Yet Before the Sins of Reading Could Be Committed Strategies of Avoidance from South Asia

Abstract

Although similar, the terms ‘sacred text’ and ‘sacred scripture’ are not interchangeable. In my view, ‘sacred scriptures’ are physical materials that embody the transcendental words recognised as ‘sacred text’ in tangible form. Since the Abrahamic religions hold their scriptures in such high regard, the distinction between ‘sacred text’ and ‘sacred scripture’ becomes blurred within these traditions. By contrast, Indian religions such as Buddhism, Jainism and Hinduism seem to be more careful to maintain this distinction, as they attribute greater prestige to orality. Even when their sacred texts were written down, their main function was not usually to establish a connection between the author and the reader, i.e., to be read, but rather to be worshipped as relics. This article aims to introduce the Indian textual tradition as a possible counterpoint to the Judaeo-Christian approach. It provides a general overview of oral and manuscript culture in Indian religions and examines whether the high reverence attributed to the oral transmission, the lower prestige of the writing, and the worship of manuscripts can be understood as strategies to avoid those discrepancies, which are known as the ‘sins of reading’ (‘peccata lectionis’) in Western civilization.

1. Introduction

Sacred languages are one of the most obvious tools invented by religions to bring the transcendent into the profane world (Otto 1987, pp. 84–85). The liturgical use of a sacred language not only facilitates spiritual or transcendental experiences for believers, but also protects the scripture. The fact that religious works are composed in a language that is not understood by the masses serves to ensure that the teachings are studied only by highly qualified and competent persons, and are therefore hardly misinterpreted. In this way, it is an effective tool to hinder the committing of the sins of reading (‘peccata lectionis’).

In Europe, it is commonplace for religious teachings to be written down and therefore are readable. As the Christian Bible was once synonymous with the term ‘Scripture’, this word was later widely used for the sacred writings of other religions. However, William A. Graham has pointed out the inconsistency of this terminology, noting that Eastern religions, especially Indian religions, often avoided writing and favoured oral transmission to pass on their sacred teachings rather than producing books as Abrahamic beliefs did (Graham 1987, pp. 1–5).

If sacred literature does not manifest itself in written form, in Graham’s opinion, using the term ‘scripture’ derived from the Latin verb, scribere, to write, for works that were traditionally not written down is inappropriate. Graham, therefore, favoured the terms ‘oral and written scriptures’, but warned that the former was an oxymoron and the latter was redundant (Graham 1987, p. 5).

Considering Graham’s critical approach, on the following pages I will provide a general survey of Indian oral and manuscript culture. I will use the term scripture in the narrow sense, referring to physical and readable manifestations of sacred works. I will also investigate whether scriptures in this sense existed on the Indian peninsula, and whether their absence could be used as a tool against the sin of reading, in the same way that the use of Latin was in Western Christianity.

2. The Transmission of the Vedas

In order to introduce the textual transmission in ancient India, it is logical to begin the discussion with the Vedas. Not only are they the oldest available texts, they also have the highest prestige within the brāhmaṇic tradition. The Vedic texts were recognized as śruti1 (Manusmṛti, Olivelle 2005, 2.10.a), meaning hearing, which refers to the idea that they were handed down directly by Brahmā, the creator god (Matsya–purāṇa 1954, 53.3), or were authorless, and thus eternal, as proposed by the mīmāṃsakas (Clooney 1987, p. 660).

The term śruti was naturally contrasted with the term smṛti meaning remembrance and refers to the other religious works that were composed and transmitted by ancient sages. Pārthasārathi Miśra, an 11th century-commentator of the Mīmāṃsāsūtra (Keating 2022, p. 396) distinguishes between types of texts as follows:

tac <śāstraṃ> ca dvaividhaṃ pauruṣeyam apauruṣeyaṃ ceti|

tatra pauruṣeyam āptavākyam|

apauruṣeyaṃ ca Vedavākyam|

(Pārthasārathi Miśra comm. ad Mīmāṃsāsūtra n.d., 1.1.5.)

[The teaching (śāstra)] has two types: human and non-human. The human [type] consists of the words of credible persons, while the non-human [type] consists of the words of the Veda.

In practice, the terms pauruṣeya (human) and apauruṣeya (non-human) not only refer to the different origins of religious texts but also imply that pieces of śruti and smṛti literature could not be preserved in the same way. When a religious work was attributed to a purely transcendental origin, most cultures opted to give sacred texts a distinctive physical form.

For instance, the God of the Old Testament inscribed the Ten Commandments on two stone slabs and gave them to Moses. Muslims developed unparalleled calligraphy to preserve the words of Allah in a dignified manner. The Book of Kells and the Abbey Bible are perhaps the most well-known of the richly illustrated biblical manuscripts from the Middle Ages.

By contrast, the brāhmaṇas preferred to transmit their most sacred texts orally and resisted writing them for a very long time. Even in the 11th century, al-Bīrūnī, the Khwarazmian traveler, reported that the brāhmaṇas prohibited writing down the Veda:

“They do not allow the Veda to be committed to writing, because it is recited according to certain modulations, and they therefore avoid the use of the pen, since it is liable to cause some error, and may occasion an addition or a defect in the written text.”

(Sachau 1910, pp. 125–26)

To explain this prohibition, various theories have been developed. Moriz Winternitz primarily proposed profane motivations. Initially, he suggested that the absence of suitable writing materials could explain the lack of written Veda-texts. However, he quickly dismissed this idea, arguing that if there had been existed a strong need, this issue would have been overcome. Ultimately, he concluded that the oral transmission served as a means for the brāhmaṇas to affirm their social status by monopolising sacred knowledge (Winternitz 1927, p. 35).

Later, Witzel affirmed this point of view, proposing that written Veda would have resulted in the brāhmaṇas losing their status and income (Witzel 2011, p. 502). Ingo Strauch came to the same conclusion, supposing that any attempt to democratise the religion would have been unbearable for the brāhmaṇas (Strauch 2012, p. 149).

Although these arguments can explain why the brāhmaṇas initially avoided the writing, they do not provide sufficient explanation as to why they stuck with oral transmission for so long. To me, it seems the knowledge of the Vedic language itself would have been enough to uphold the status of the brāhmaṇas. Moreover, from a Western perspective, the brāhmaṇas took unnecessary risks of losing or forgetting their tradition. In this way, I think the preference for oral transmission cannot be simplified and may stem from more complex motivations.

First, it is unclear whether the refusal to writing down the Vedas was not a forgone conclusion from the beginning. Although al-Bīrūnī’s above-quoted words report about strict oral transmission, there are some traces suggesting that there may have early attempts to produce written Veda-texts. For example, Michael Witzel has proposed that the unusual changes in consonant sound from voiced to unvoiced in the Kāṇva version of the Śukla Yajurveda2 provide indirect evidence of the existence of an early written text of the Veda (Witzel 2011, pp. 513–14).

Another slight proof is found in the Mahābhārata, stating that those who wrote down the Vedas were condemned to hell:

Vedavikrayiṇaś caiva Vedānāṃ caiva dūṣakāḥ|

Vedānāṃ lekhakāś caiva te vai nirayagāminaḥ||

(Mahābhārata, Sukthankar et al. 1927–1966, 13.24.70)

Those who sell, spoil or write down the Vedas, they go to hell.

These words also suggest that writing down the Vedas may have posed a real danger even in the early period (Witzel 2011, p. 503). If so, I think this provides further evidence that the brāhmaṇas’ aversion to writing cannot be explained solely by the desire to maintain social status. As the brāhmaṇas were the only people capable of writing down the Vedas, hints at the early written Vedas suggest that some brāhmaṇas were involved in this process. However, their attempts proved unsuccessful.

To understand the brāhmaṇas’ preference of the oral transmission, it is worth taking into consideration its theological basis. The Gopatha–brāhmaṇa, dated to the late Vedic period, reports about this as follows:3

tena ha vā evaṃviduṣā brāhmaṇena brahmābhipannaṃ grasitaṃ parāmṛṣṭam| brahmaṇākāśam abhipannaṃ grasitaṃ parāmṛṣṭam| ākāśena vāyur abhipanno grasitaḥ parāmṛṣṭaḥ| vāyunā jyotir abhipannaṃ grasitaṃ parāmṛṣṭam| jyotiṣāpo ‘bhipannā grasitāḥ parāmṛṣṭāḥ| adbhir bhūmir abhipannā grasitā parāmṛṣṭā| bhūmyānnam abhipannaṃ grasitaṃ parāmṛṣṭam| annena prāṇo ‘bhipanno grasitaḥ parāmṛṣṭaḥ| prāṇena mano ‘bhipannaṃ grasitaṃ parāmṛṣṭam| manasā vāg abhipannā grasitā parāmṛṣṭā| vācā vedā abhipannā grasitāḥ parāmṛṣṭāḥ| vedair yajño ‘bhipanno grasitaḥ parāmṛṣṭas [ed. parimṛṣṭas]| tāni ha vā etāni dvādaśamahābhūtāny evaṃvidi pratiṣṭhitāni| teṣāṃ yajña eva parārdhyaḥ|

(Gopatha–brāhmaṇa, Gaastra 1919, 1.1.37.)

The brāhmaṇa, who knows what is right, seized, swallowed and contemplated the brahman. The brahman seized, swallowed and contemplated the sky. The sky seized, swallowed and contemplated the wind. The wind seized, swallowed and contemplated the light. The light seized, swallowed and contemplated the water. The water seized, swallowed and contemplated the earth. The earth seized, swallowed and contemplated the food. The food seized, swallowed and contemplated the breath. The breath seized, swallowed and contemplated the mind. The mind seized, swallowed and contemplated the speech. The speech seized, swallowed and contemplated the Vedas. The Vedas seized, swallowed and contemplated the sacrifice. These are the twelve great elements. They depend on the one who knows what is right. Of these, the sacrifice is the most excellent.

Although the cosmological reflection of the brāhmaṇa is fairly obscure, it is remarkable that it identifies the Vedas as one of the mahābhūtas, or fundamental elements, made of speech. This implies that the Veda-texts can only be accurately conveyed orally and any attempts to write them down would be incompatible with its sonic essence. As Bruno Lo Turco aptly remarked, the Vedas were considered to be “something made of Speech” rather than “a collection of pieces of information” (Lo Turco 2013, pp. 86–87). Consequently, the brāhmaṇas developed sophisticated mnemonic techniques to enable them to transmit their sacred knowledge accurately from generation to generation. Witzel aptly compared the present-day Vedic recitation to “a tape recording of what was first composed and recited some 3000 years ago” (Witzel 1995, p. 100).

The fact that the Vedas can only be transmitted orally means that this is the most appropriate method of transmitting a text. This approach may necessarily lead to a lack of faith in writing. Due to the climate, Indians had to continuously copy their manuscripts. However, this process involved more than just multiplication; manuscripts were also revised and reworked to align with contemporary religious, social, and aesthetic conventions (Colas 1999, pp. 33–34).

The fact that oral transmission was considered superior empowered scribes to alter texts. If orality was accepted as the accurate method of transmission, then a scribe confronted with any discrepancy could easily conclude that it was a previous copyist who had made a mistake rather than accepting that the original work contained unflattering content.

Furthermore, writing was considered not only a lower method of transmission, but also the means of textual corruption (Lo Turco 2013, pp. 85–86). As the pieces of smṛti literature derive their authority from the original and transcendental Veda (Brockington 1996, p. 105), it seems that writing was the driving force that by desacralizing, materialising and diversifying the Veda, produce the subsequent works.

This way of thinking, however, formed a challenge for the later interpreters. The Manusmṛti, for example, states that it contains nothing that is not already included in the Veda:

yaḥ kaścit kasyacid dharmo Manunā parikīrtitaḥ|

sa sarvo ‘bhihito Vede sarvajñānamayo hi saḥ||

(Manusmṛti, Olivelle 2005, 2.7)

All of the dharma that Manu said for anyone is found in the Veda, since he was omniscient.

These words naturally raise the question of why this work is necessary. Kullūka suggested that the Manusmṛti includes fragments of the Veda that have decayed or been lost over time:

sarvajñatayā cotsannaviprakīrṇapaṭhyamānavedārthaṃ saṃyagjñātā lokahitāyopanibaddhavān|

(Kullūka ad MS, Kāvyatīrtha n.d., 2.7. p. 34).

Due to his omniscience, [Manu] correctly understood the meaning of the Veda, which had been [partly] destroyed and scattered, but was [still] being recited. He codified it for the benefit of mankind.

In this way, Kullūka suggests that the works known as smṛti were once part of the śruti but were written down due to certain calamities. It is important to emphasise that, despite this claim, Kullūka does not equate smṛti with śruti. Later, he also hints at the priority of the Veda:

dharmaṃ ca jñātum icchatāṃ prakṛṣṭaṃ pramāṇaṃ śrutiḥ| prakarṣabodhanena ca śrutismṛtivirodhe smṛtyartho nādaraṇīya iti bhāvaḥ|

(Kullūka comm. ad MS, Kāvyatīrtha n.d., 2.13 p. 35).

For those who wish to understand the dharma, the superior means of acquiring certain knowledge is the śruti. Regarding this superiority, if the smṛti contradicts the śruti, the content of the smṛti should not be considered. This is the meaning.

From this point of view, codifying, in practice writing, emerges as the means by which the originally transcendental texts are transformed into smṛti-works. While writing does not completely destroy the sacredness of the śruti-texts, it makes them less sacred by materialising them.

Unlike Kullūka, Medhātithi argues that śruti and smṛti are complementary:

mukhyaṃ pramāṇaṃ dharme Vedaḥ sa ca tair na śakyo jñātum| atyantadurvijñāno hy asau nigamaniruktavyākaraṇatarkapurāṇamīmāṃsāśāstraśravaṇam apekṣate svārthabodhe|

(Medhātithi comm. MS, Jha 1920, 2.13. p. 73.)

In the dharma, the superior means of acquiring certain knowledge is the Veda, but this is beyond the understanding of those [who wish to grasp the dharma]. As [the Veda] is extremely difficult to understand, auxiliary works, etymology, grammar, logic, purāṇa, mīmāṃsā and scientific texts must be studied to grasp its meaning.

In this way, Medhātithi aimed to reduce the boundary between śruti and smṛti. Although he acknowledges that smṛti is generally associated with writing, he broadens its definition and identifies it as similar to the concept of sacred tradition in Christian theology

yatra dharmaḥ śiṣyate kartavyatayā pratīyate sā smṛtiḥ| nibandhānibandhāv aprayojakau| śiṣṭasamācārād api dharmasya kartavyatāvagatiḥ| so ’pi smṛtir eva|

(Medhātithi comm. ad MS, Jha 1920, 2.10. p. 70.)

[Anything from which] dharma can be learnt as a duty, is smṛti. Whether it is written (literally textualized) or not does not matter. A duty of dharma can be learnt from the conduct of virtuous people. This is smṛti too.

According to Medhātithi, in practice everything can be regarded as smṛti from which the commands of the dharma can be recalled. Thus, under this term not only written works (nibandha) were comprehended, but also other unwritten things (anibandha), such as virtuous conduct (samācāra). For him, the key feature of smṛti is recollection and writing is one means of achieving this.

The two opposing approaches shared by the commentators of the Manusmṛti illuminate the two places where writing was able to break through. From the first millennium AD, written Veda-texts appeared in greater numbers, which was probably due to the emergence of exegetical works (Lo Turco 2013, p. 86). Although the texts were written down, they did not form book-to-be-read, but they remained tool subordinate to oral transmission (Karttunen 1998, p. 116), in accordance with the role attributed by Medhātithi to the smṛti literature.

On the other hand, as Kullūka touched on, writing can mean a last resort, a kind of lifeline when the oral transmission was hindered. Al-Bīrūnī reported about Vasukra, a Kashmirian brāhmaṇa who, being afraid of losing the sacred knowledge wrote down the Veda:

“…not long before our time, Vasukra, a native of Kashmir, a famous Brahmin, has of his own account undertaken the task of explaining the Veda and committing it to writing. He has taken on himself a task from which everybody else would have recoiled, but he carried it out because he was afraid that the Veda might be forgotten and entirely vanish out of the memories of men, since he observed that the characters of men grew worse and worse, and that they did not care much for virtue, nor even for duty.”

(Sachau 1910, pp. 126–27)

In summary, the dominance of oral transmission means that it is pointless to talk about the sins of reading in the śruti literature. The transmission of the Veda-texts did not appear to aim to produce legible texts. On the contrary, the brāhmaṇas were interested in preserving the texts in their original sonic form. This intention guaranteed that the Veda-texts retained their sacredness and could be used in rituals. It also shaped the Indians’ later attitude towards written works.

3. The Transmission of the Mahābhārata

The other side of the ancient Indian textual tradition is typically exemplified by the Mahābhārata. While the Veda-texts were preserved without alteration for centuries, the great epic was handed down in different forms in various parts of the Subcontinent once it was committed to written transmission (Colas 1999, p. 31).

Indeed, both modern scholarly research and the mythological tradition suggest that the Mahābhārata also has its origins in orality. According to widely accepted theories, the great epic was initially composed by various bards and then taken over by the brāhmaṇas who nevertheless never considered it sacred enough to be exempt from being written down (Brockington 1998, pp. 20–21).

The remembrance of the oral transmission is also reflected in the epic’s two frame narratives. Both stories recount that the Mahābhārata was first recited at large-scale sacrifices. According to the inner frame of the epic (Mahābhārata, Sukthankar et al. 1927–1966, 1.54.1–24), the Mahābhārata was first time recited by Vaiśampāyana at the snake sacrifice of Arjuna’s great-grandson, Janamejaya. The outer frame (Mahābhārata, Sukthankar et al. 1927–1966, 1.1.1–210) adds that Vaiśampāyana’s performance was listened to by Ugraśravas, a bard, who later recited the entire epic at a sacrifice, performed by Śaunaka in the Naimiṣa forest. Although the Mahābhārata in this way speaks only of its oral performances, it contains no hints that would prohibit writing it down.

On the contrary, many phalaśrutis4 of the Mahābhārata-manuscripts refer to the merits of reading the epic (Brockington 1998, p. 3). Even the reconstructed text of the critical edition concludes with a verse of this kind:

Mahābhāratam ākhyānaṃ yaḥ paṭhet susamāhitaḥ|

sa gacchet paramāṃ siddhim iti me nāsti saṃśayaḥ||

(Mahābhārata, Sukthankar et al. 1927–1966, 18.5.53.)

Anyone who reads the story of the Mahābhārata aloud very attentively will attain the greatest success. I have no doubt about this.

Of course, it should be emphasised that, under the verbal root √paṭh, reading aloud or recitation should be understood here rather than silent reading (Lo Turco 2013, p. 88). The production of Mahābhārata-manuscripts is also touched on by a popular myth that was added later to the epic tradition. This story introduces Gaṇeśa as the very first scribe of the Mahābhārata (Sukthankar et al. 1927–1966, 1. App. pp. 884–85). Although this myth only appears in some later manuscripts, it has become a defining episode in epic mythology (Brockington 1998, pp. 2–3).

The dual nature of its transmission reflects how the ancient Indians interpreted the connection between the great epic and the Veda. On the one hand, some passages of the Mahābhārata equate the two:

evaṃ Dvaipāyano jajñe Satyavatyāṃ Parāśarāt|

dvīpe nyastaḥ sa yad bālas tasmād Dvaipāyano ‘bhavat||

pādāpasāriṇaṃ dharmaṃ vidvān sa tu yuge yuge|

āyuḥ śaktiṃ ca martyānāṃ yugānugam avekṣya ca||

Brahmaṇo brāhmaṇānāṃ ca tathānugrahakāmyayā|

vivyāsa vedān yasmāc ca tasmād Vyāsa iti smṛtaḥ||

Vedān adhyāpayām āsa Mahābhāratapañcamān|

Sumantuṃ Jaiminiṃ Pailaṃ Śukaṃ caiva svam ātmajam||

prabhur variṣṭho varado Vaiśampāyanam eva ca|

saṃhitās taiḥ pṛthaktvena Bhāratasya prakāśitāḥ||

(Mahābhārata, Sukthankar et al. 1927–1966, 1.57.71–75)

In this way, Dvaipāyana was born to Satyavatī and Parāśara. As a child, he was placed on an island and became known as island-born (dvaipāyana). He was aware of that the dharma was gradually declining5 from yuga to yuga. Taking into consideration the health and strength of mortals, he divided the Vedas in order to favour Brahmā and the brāhmaṇas, and thus became known as the divider (vyāsa). This most excellent lord, who granted wishes, taught the Vedas—the fifth part of which was the Mahābhārata—to Sumantu, Jaimini, Paila, Vaiśampāyana, and his son, Śuka. They revealed the collections of Bhārata one by one.

The quoted verses introduce the famous mythological sage, Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana, also known as Vyāsa, as the person who divided the original, unified Veda into five parts. Although the passage is somewhat elliptical, it suggests that the usual four Veda–saṃhitās, collections of the Veda-texts, Ṛg-, Yajur-, Sāma- and Atharvaveda, are complemented by the Mahābhārata. It is not unusual for the epic to be eulogised as the fifth Veda, but this passage goes further by suggesting that the Mahābhārata derives from the same transcendental source as the other Veda–saṃhitās. However, this claim was never widely accepted. While several authors compared the Mahābhārata to the Veda, they were usually careful not to identify it as a piece of śruti literature. The Bhāgavata–purāṇa, for example, states that the Mahābhārata was only a Veda-like work for those excluded from studying the śruti texts by birth:

strīśūdradvijabandhūnāṃ trayī na śrutigocarā|

karma śreyasi mūḍhānāṃ śreya evaṃ bhaved iha|

iti Bhāratam ākhyānaṃ kṛpayā muninā kṛtam||

(Bhāgavata–purāṇa, Singh 1987, 1.4.25.)

Woman, śūdra and brāhmaṇa by name only, these three are not allowed to study the śruti. The sage thought, ‘Let this good deed be for the sake of these unfortunates’, and kindly composed the story of the Bhārata.

Regarding Vyāsa’s involvement in the creation of the Mahābhārata, the common thinking is that he divided the Veda into four saṃhitās and then composed the Mahābhārata as a separate work.

tapasā brahmacaryeṇa vyasya Vedaṃ sanātanam|

itihāsam imaṃ cakre puṇyaṃ Satyavatīsutaḥ||

Parāśarātmajo vidvān brahmarṣiḥ saṃśitavrataḥ|

mātur niyogād dharmātmā Gāṅgeyasya ca dhīmataḥ||

kṣetre Vicitravīryasya Kṛṣṇadvaipāyanaḥ purā|

trīn agnīn iva Kauravyāñ janayām āsa vīryavān||

utpādya Dhṛtarāṣṭraṃ ca Pāṇḍuṃ Viduram eva ca|

jagāma tapase dhīmān punar evāśramaṃ prati||

teṣu jāteṣu vṛddheṣu gateṣu paramāṃ gatim|

abravīd Bhārataṃ loke mānuṣe ‘smin mahān ṛṣiḥ||

Janamejayena pṛṣṭaḥ san brāhmaṇaiś ca sahasraśaḥ|

śaśāsa śiṣyam āsīnaṃ Vaiśaṃpāyanam antike||

sa sadasyaiḥ sahāsīnaḥ śrāvayām āsa Bhāratam|

karmāntareṣu yajñasya codyamānaḥ punaḥ punaḥ||

vistaraṃ Kuruvaṃśasya Gāndhāryā dharmaśīlatām|

kṣattuḥ prajñāṃ dhṛtiṃ Kuntyāḥ samyag Dvaipāyano ‘bravīt||

Vāsudevasya māhātmyaṃ Pāṇḍavānāṃ ca satyatām|

durvṛttaṃ Dhārtarāṣṭrāṇām uktavān bhagavān ṛṣiḥ||

caturviṃśatisāhasrīṃ cakre Bhāratasaṃhitām|

upākhyānair vinā tāvad Bhārataṃ procyate budhaiḥ||

tato ‘dhyardhaśataṃ bhūyaḥ saṃkṣepaṃ kṛtavān ṛṣiḥ|

anukramaṇim adhyāyaṃ vṛttāntānāṃ saparvaṇām||

idaṃ Dvaipāyanaḥ pūrvaṃ putram adhyāpayac Chukam|

tato ‘nyebhyo ‘nurūpebhyaḥ śiṣyebhyaḥ pradadau prabhuḥ||

Nārado ‘śrāvayad devān Asito Devalaḥ pitṝn|

gandharvayakṣarakṣāṃsi śrāvayām āsa vai Śukaḥ||

(Mahābhārata, Sukthankar et al. 1927–1966, 1.1.52–64)

After dividing the eternal Veda with his magical power during his studies, Satyavatī’s son composed this auspicious epic. He was the wise son of Parāśara. This brāhmaṇa sage adhered firmly to his vow. Following his mother’s and Bhīṣma’s6 command the virtuous Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana fathered three descendants of Kuru, like fires for Vicitravīrya. After fathering Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Pāṇḍu, and Vidura, the sage returned to his ashram to practise ascetism. When they had grown old and turned to the supreme path, the great sage recounted the Bhārata in this human world. When Janamejaya and the brāhmaṇas asked him [to recount the story], he asked his pupil, Vaiśaṃpāyana, who was sitting next to him, [to fulfil this wish]. Taking a seat among the sadasyas, he recounted the Bhārata. Urged again and again during the intervals of the sacrificial rites, Dvaipāyana recounted the details of Kuru’s lineage, Gāndhārī’s virtuosity, Vidura’s7 wisdom and Kuntī’s firmness. The glorious sage [also] spoke about the majesty of Kṛṣṇa,8 the veracity of Pāṇḍu’s sons and the misdeeds of Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons. He expanded the text of the Bhārata, excluding the episodes, to twenty-four thousand verses. The sages call [this work] the Bhārata. After that, the sage summarised [the Bhārata] in a chapter consisting of one hundred and fifty verses, which set out the order of events together with the titles of the books. First, Dvaipāyana taught [the epic] to his son, Śuka; then he passed it on to his other suitable pupils. Nārada recited it to the gods, Asita Devala to the forefathers and Śuka to the gandharvas, the yakṣas, and the rākṣasas.

Although the quoted passages attribute slightly different roles to Vyāsa in producing the Mahābhārata, they agree that the sage handed his work down to his pupils purely orally. The aforementioned passages contain two slightly different lists of Vyāsa’s disciples.

According to the first account, Vyāsa taught the Mahābhārata to his four students, Sumantu, Jaimini, Paila and Vaiśampāyana, as well as his son, Śuka. Vyāsa’s pupils also appear in the Viṣṇu–purāṇa, where they are associated with a separate collection of the Veda-texts:

Brahmaṇā codito Vyāso Vedān vyastuṃ pracakrame|

atha śiṣyān sa jagrāha caturo Vedapāragān||

Ṛgvedaśrāvakaṃ Pailaṃ jagrāha sa mahāmuniḥ|

Vaiśampāyananāmānaṃ Yajurvedasya cāgrahīt||

Jaiminiṃ Sāmavedasya tathaivātharvavedavit|

Sumantus tasya śiṣyo ‘bhūd Vedavyāsasya dhīmataḥ||

(Viṣṇu–purāṇa, Pathak n.d., 3.4.7–9)

Urged on by Brahmā, Vyāsa began to divide the Veda. He took four pupils, skilled in the Veda, with him. The great sage made Paila the student of the Ṛgveda, Vaiśampāyana the student of the Yajurveda and Jaimini the student of the Sāmaveda. Sumantu, the [fourth] pupil of the wise arranger of the Veda, became an expert in the Atharvaveda.

Given the first account’s assertion that the Mahābhārata is the fifth sub-text of the unified Veda, Śuka emerges as the sage who is responsible for studying and transmitting the Mahābhārata among the pupils. Furthermore, the other quoted account also attributes a special role to Śuka, introducing him as the first person to hear his father’s work. Therefore, it is somewhat unexpected that the present Mahābhārata derives its authority from Vaiśampāyana’s recitation. The Viṣṇu–purāṇa also touches on the transmission of the epic, stating that the Mahābhārata was handed over to Romaharṣaṇa (supposedly identical with Ugraśravas). However, this suggests that, contrary to the well-known narrative, the sūta learnt the Mahābhārata directly from Vyāsa:

Romaharṣaṇanāmānaṃ mahābuddhiṃ mahāmuniḥ|

sūtaṃ jagrāha śiṣyaṃ sa itihāsapurāṇayoḥ||

(Viṣṇu–purāṇa, Pathak n.d., 3.4.10.)

The great sage made the extremely clever bard (sūta), Romaharṣaṇa, the student of the epic and the purāṇa.

Among the afore-quoted accounts, the second one supports the widely accepted tradition that Vaiśampāyana was the first human to perform the Mahābhārata. This account reveals another aspect of the transmission of the epic. According to this, Nārada and Asita Devala also learnt the great epic from Vyāsa, and together with Śuka, they taught it in unearthly worlds. Nārada taught the Mahābhārata to the gods, Asita Devala to the forefathers and Śuka to the gandharvas, the yakṣas and the rākṣasas. This distribution demonstrates that the Mahābhārata existed in several versions from the beginning. The fact that different rules apply to different beings—for example the humped Raivata spent only a moment among the gandharvas in heaven, but this equalled many eons (Harivaṃśa, Vaidya 1969, 9.24–26)—implies that these mythological versions of the epic may have differed from each other. The Matsya–purāṇa (1954, 53.8–11) also attests that the divine version of the Purāṇa9 was much longer than the earthly one.

In summary, it seems worthwhile to consider what the myths about the origin of the Mahābhārata reveal about how the text was traditionally received. Although the double frame narrative of the epic may play different roles, some of which have already been investigated in scholarly works (Black 2023; Minkowski 1989; Witzel 1987), I believe that it also serves as a warning to the audience about that the access to Vyāsa’s original work is hindered.

According to the inner frame, Vaiśampāyana was the first earthly reciter of the epic. Hints that he initially specialised in the Yajurveda and that Śuka may have had a better understanding of his father’s work suggest that not the best version of the epic was passed down to humans. This is also affirmed by allusions to a divine version of the epic.

From another perspective, however, Vaiśampāyana emerges as a highly trustworthy reciter. He may have undergone professional Vedic-like training, and it was Vyāsa himself who asked him to perform the entire Mahābhārata at the sacrifice (Mahābhārata, Sukthankar et al. 1927–1966, 1.54.21–22).

Although Vaiśampāyana seems to be established as a reliable source, as Vyāsa’s disciple, it should not be forgotten that this whole story is embedded in the outer frame of the epic. According to this, the available form of the Mahābhārata was transmitted by Ugraśravas, the mythical archetype of the ancient Indian bards, who was also present at Janamejaya’s sacrifice and heard Vaiśampāyana’s perform. Unlike Vaiśampāyana, Ugraśravas’ knowledge of the epic was incidental; he relied on his memory to present the Mahābhārata, having received no professional education. The outer frame further distances the original work and the audience.

Furthermore, since the Mahābhārata mentions Vyāsa’s numerous disciples, it is possible that some of them may have created their own versions of the epic, as Vaiśampāyana did. This idea is reflected in the Jaiminīya Āśvamedhikaparvan, which presents an alternative version of the fifteenth book of Vaiśampāyana’s Mahābhārata. While it is uncertain whether an entire Mahābhārata attributed to Jaimini existed, or if only the Āśvamedhikaparvan was reworked in this way (Koskikallio and Vielle 2001, p. 69), it is notable that the epic tradition allows for the creation of Mahābhāratas other than that of Vaiśampāyana.

Finally, the question arises as to how these narrative elements interact with the dangers associated with reading sacred texts. In fact, nothing prohibits reading the epic, which, even if it is not considered transcendental, evidently has sacral significance and thus involves the risk of misinterpretation. To avoid this, the frame stories suggest that our access to Vyāsa’s original work is quite limited. In the case of the Mahābhārata, the fact that our best version of the original work is thirdhand allows the text to be written down in the knowledge that the epic will undergo further, more intensive textual corruption.

4. Textual Tradition Among Buddhists and Jains

The last step in our investigation is to examine how non-Hindu religious groups, such as the Jains and Buddhists, engage with their textual traditions. Of course, this is a vast topic on which many scholarly works already exist. Therefore, my aim here is not to provide a detailed discussion, but rather to offer an insight into the Buddhist and Jain approaches to the shift from orality to writing. As both religions are rooted in the teachings of wandering ascetic groups, oral transmission initially played a crucial role.

The sacred texts of Jainism are based on the teachings of the twenty-four tīrthaṅkaras (literally ‘fordmakers’), the line of the Jain religious teachers, and were written by their disciples. The words of the tīrthaṅkaras were regarded as eternal truths, similarly to the śruti, and the earthly survival of these truths was managed by Sudharman, Mahāvīra’s, the twenty-fourth tīrthaṅkara’s last disciple, in this world age. As the Jains regarded the study of sacred literature as a privilege reserved for monks, and did not consider it to be of ultimate importance (Dundas 2002, pp. 61–66), the general claim, that a significant part of the original canon was lost, may not have caused greater disruption to the community.

The Śvetāmbaras, one of the main sub-sects of the Jain community, believed that even though the most sacred Pūrva texts10 had been lost, much of the tīrthaṅkaras’ teachings were still available (Ibid., pp. 67–68). However, this belief naturally diminishes the relevance of the canon. In any case, according to the Śvetāmbara tradition, the early monks were intent on systematising the teachings of the tīrthaṅkaras, and after three (practically four) common recitations11 the extant canon was started to be written down in the first half of the fifth century (Ibid., p. 71).

Beside the claim that the canon was incomplete, the Śvetāmbaras often emphasised the dangers of misinterpreting sacred literature. For instance, in the sixteenth century, Dharmasāgara considered that improper readings of sacred texts resulted in the emergence of many sects within Jainism (Ibid., p. 62).

Unlike the Śvetāmbaras, the other main group of Jains, the Digambaras believed that the entire canon had been lost (Bronkhorst 2018, p. 67). This distinguishes the Digambaras not only from their Jain rivals (Dundas 2002, p. 61), but also precludes the possibility of achieving true knowledge through written texts.12 While the loss of the canon meant that the Digambaras could not produce sacred literature based on the tīrthaṅkaras’ words, studying its pieces was the exclusive duty of monks, just as it was among the Śvetāmbaras.

In summary, although the Jains were aware of the dangers of writing, they did not prohibit it when it came to transmitting sacred literature. It seems that the Jain solution to avoid the emergence of false teachings was, on the one hand, to narrow the audience of the texts down to monks, and, on the other hand, to introduce the available canon as reminiscences or imitations of the original sacred literature.

But what if the order of the monks is extinct as happened for a while to the Digambaras? For this question, the answer is found in the story of the publication of the Ṣaṭkhaṇḍāgama, the oldest extant Digambara text, as recorded by Paul Dundas:

According to the tradition, this text is based on the teachings of the second-century monk, Dharasena. Fearing the gradual loss of scriptural knowledge, he taught his two students, Puṣpadanta and Bhūtabali, everything he could remember from the original canon. The palm-leaf copies of these teachings were later deposited in Mūḍbidrī situated in the south-west of Karṇāṭaka. Over the centuries, the manuscripts lost their practical function as readable texts, and gradually transformed into purely religious object. Interest in their content, however, did not disappear completely. At the turn of the 20th century, some members of the Digambara community hired a local scholar to transcribe the manuscripts into modern kannaḍa and nāgarī scripts. However, the local clergy of Mūḍbidrī prohibited the publication of the text, claiming that studying the manuscripts was the privilege of Digambara monks, who had become extinct by that time. Although the Ṣaṭkhaṇḍāgama was smuggled out and finally published, its story illustrates how the function of the work changed: as studying the sacred scriptures was the monks’ privilege, and they had become extinct among the Digambaras, the manuscript transformed into a sacred object exclusively (Ibid., 2002, pp. 63–65).

The behaviour of the clergy of Mūdbidrī represents an extreme refusal of reading the sacred texts, proposing that manuscripts of religious literature were produced to be worshipped rather than read. In fact, this custom was not a Jaina peculiarity, but it was widely extended in the Indian religions, presumably from the appearance of the first manuscripts of the sacred texts.

Previously, this custom was thought to have emerged alongside Mahāyāna Buddhism (Schopen 1975), but archaeological findings attesting to such a cult date back to around the first half of the second century, before the first Mahāyāna texts appeared (Drewes 2007, pp. 126–33, 137). This suggests that it may have been widely accepted by Buddhist groups at that time.

Considering that such a religious practice by nature requires written texts to be worshipped, it seems remarkable that Buddhists may have been the pioneers who submitted their works to be recorded in writing. Although Bruno Lo Turco supposed that the emergence of the Buddhism promoted the spread of writing among the brāhmaṇas (Lo Turco 2013, p. 90), it is important to emphasise that their teachings also rooted deeply in orality, just as the Hindus’ and the Jains’.

The sacred literature of the Buddhists is based on the Buddha’s words (Tilakaratne 2012, p. xxiv), the recording of which may have formed a great challenge for the emerging community after the founder’s passing away. The Pāṭhikavagga, the Pāli commentary of the Dīghanikāya informs about that the early Buddhists were concerned about that the Jain community was suffering of that they were not able to recollect Mahāvīra’s, the 24th tīrthaṅkara’s preaches correctly:

tena kho pana samayena Nigaṇṭho Nātaputto Pāvāyaṃ adhunā kālakato hoti| Tassa kālakiriyāya bhinnā nigaṇṭhā dvedhikajātā bhaṇḍanajātā kalahajātā vivādāpannā aññam aññaṃ mukhasattīhi vitudantā viharanti na tvaṃ imaṃ dhammavinayaṃ ājānāsi ahaṃ imaṃ dhammavinayaṃ ājānāmi|

(Pāṭhikavagga, Rhys Davids and Carpenter 1911, p. 117)

When Nigaṇṭha Nātaputta (identical with Mahāvīra) passed away recently in Pāvā, his death caused his followers to split into two groups. They divided into two parties. They quarrelled and fought with each other. They contradicted each other. While travelling, they insulted each other, saying things like, ‘You don’t understand the theoretical and practical teachings.’ ‘I do understand the theoretical and practical teachings.’

The case of the Jains urged the first Buddhist monks, led by Śāriputra, to make serious efforts to preserve the Buddha’s teachings. Initially, they also relied on oral transmission. As their first councils were known as saṃgāyanas, literally meaning “singing together”, it is strongly suggested that the joint recitation of the monks formed the main means of canonising and transmitting the texts (Tilakaratne 2012, p. 13).

The Theravādins, who possess the earliest extant Buddhist canon, the Tipiṭaka, connect the writing down of the sacred texts to a specific historical event (Tilakaratne 2012, p. 81). According to the Dīpavaṃsa, the earliest chronicle of Sri Lanka, this occurred during the reign of Vaṭṭagāmaṇi Abhaya in the first century B.C. (Norman 1997, p. 77). This source reports about such a crisis that was recorded by Al-Bīrūnī after more than a thousand years about the Kashmirian brāhmaṇa, Vasukra:

Vaṭṭagāmaṇi Abhayo evaṃ dvādasa vassakaṃ|

pañca māsesu ādito rājā rajjam akārayi||

piṭakattayapāliṃ ca tassā aṭṭhakatham pi ca|

mukhapāṭhena ānesuṃ pubbe bhikkhu mahāmatī||

hāniṃ disvāna sattānaṃ tadā bhikkhū samāgatā|

ciraṭṭhititthaṃ dhammassa potthakesu likhāpayuṃ||

(Dīpavaṃsa, Oldenberg 1879, 20.19–21)

Vaṭṭagāmaṇi Abhaya first ruled the kingdom for five months, and then for another twelve years. In the past, the wise monks had passed on the text of the three piṭakas and its commentary orally. When the monks saw the destruction, they got together and made the piṭakas together with the commentary to be written down in books to be kept for a long time.

As many scholars have already pointed out, the writing down of the Pāli canon marked an important point in the history of Buddhism. Until then, the religious teachings were under the control of the bhāṇakas, the preachers, whose consensus was required for the legitimation of the sacred texts. Although the emergence of the written canon did not put an end to the common recitation of the monks, it broke the power of the bhāṇakas in authorising sacred works (Norman 1997, pp. 90–92).

Regarding this, Richard Gombrich proposed that the spread of writing among Buddhists led to the emergence of several Mahāyāna schools (Gombrich 1990, pp. 41–43). Paradoxically, the fact that the Buddha’s words could be written down provided an opportunity for other Buddhist groups to introduce their own teachings. Many of these emerging schools proposed that the Buddha’s Pāli teachings were intended for the general public, and that he also formulated secret teachings for a select few (Norman 1997, p. 92). This foreshadows the fact that the emerging Mahāyāna schools preferred to use Sanskrit as their sacred language, unlike earlier schools.

This choice of language meant that the Mahāyāna doctrine could spread to the brāhmaṇical culture. On the other hand, as the language of the cultural elite, it shows that the idea that the Mahāyāna was the “Buddhism of laity” is wrong (Gombrich 1990, p. 43). Even if Buddhists did not restrict the study of sacred texts as strictly as Jains did, it is suggested that the first audience of both Theravāda and Mahāyāna texts was the community of monks.

Drewes pointed out that, despite the widespread nature of manuscript worship, Mahāyāna sources did not attribute special importance to this custom and usually considered it less relevant than memorising or teaching texts (Drewes 2007, p. 137). Nevertheless, the popularity of text worship suggests that, while monks had direct access to religious literature, for most laypeople, worshipping manuscripts was the only or main point of contact. The success of the custom demonstrates that it was adopted not only by the Jains, but also by the medieval purāṇas—enormous collections of Hindu mythology—which comprise a significant number of references to manuscript worship (De Simini 2016, p. 23).

5. Conclusions

In the introduction to this article, I have emphasised that, if we are to discuss the sins of reading in ancient India, we must first establish whether scriptures, defined as physical and readable manifestations of sacred works, existed there. If there were no scriptures, then the sins of reading cannot be committed.

As we have seen in Vedic religion, the sacred status of the text played a key role. As the essence of the Vedas was their sonic nature, the brāhmaṇas mostly refused to write them down, instead developing sophisticated mnemonic techniques to preserve them in their original form, thus guaranteeing their usability in Vedic rituals. According to this way of thinking, writing necessarily emerges as a means of textual corruption, thus excluding the possibility that written works can become sacred.

Although the textual tradition of the Jains and Buddhists was also rooted in orality, as a significant proportion of their texts contain regulations for monks, and were thus less used for liturgical purposes, they showed less rejection towards writing. In these religions, the correct understanding of the texts was more important than ritual purity. In this way, both Buddhism and Jainism made attempts to restrict the study of the canon to an elite group of monks. Alongside this, the worship of religious writings emerged.

While the Vedic religion saw writing as desacralising sacred texts, followers of Buddhism, Jainism and purāṇic Hinduism claim that writing can transform them from abstract entities into religious objects. As these manuscripts or books are to be worshipped rather than read, they cannot be called scriptures.

Returning to the initial question of whether scriptures existed in ancient India, I would say that they did not. It seems that the Indian culture was unfamiliar with scriptures until Islam spread more widely. This paradigmatic change is best exemplified by the Sikhism, in which written works and their content become sacred together (Owen Cole 1982, pp. 58–59).