Spirits of Air and Goblins Damned: Life in the Light on the Six Realms Commentary

Abstract

Scholarship in Buddhist Studies, particularly among philologists and philosophers, often overlooks cosmology, karma, and rebirth. This neglect is a legacy of a deep and long-standing anti-metaphysical spirit that pervades the empirical and philosophical frameworks employed in the discipline. This study engages in a philological close reading of four manuscripts of an unedited and untranslated Pali commentary on the Cha-gati-dīpanī “Light on the Six Realms”, a work on karma and rebirth composed possibly in Pagan, Myanmar, in the early second millennium. This text is particularly significant as one of the oldest Pali works from the region, drawing on now-lost Sanskrit (or possibly Prakrit) sources and offering unique insights into broader Buddhist debates, such as the ontological status of hell guardians. I examine the text’s depiction of the hell and animal realms and reassess some of our scholarly paradigms that often frame the kind of ideas the commentary presents as irrational, figurative, or “folk”. Ultimately, this study calls for greater attention to such works and their perspectival horizons to enrich our understanding of the intellectual life of medieval Buddhism beyond the constraints of modern empirical and philosophical assumptions.

1. Introduction

“Buddhism, in its institution, is abhorrent from idolatry”, the naturalist and colonial officer William Henry Sykes wrote in 1841, “and yet”, he continued, “in all countries where it is now practised, it is characterized not only by its gross worship of figures of Buddha, but of endless forms of ‘spirits of air and goblins damned’” (Sykes 1841, p. 200). Sykes’s disparaging comparison between an essential, historical Buddhism and contemporary Buddhist practice is typical of nineteenth-century Orientalist rhetoric. His modified allusion to King Hamlet’s ghost—“Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned” (1.4.40)—highlights also how British sensibilities toward the supernatural had changed by the mid-nineteenth century. Shakespeare’s Renaissance ghost, originally shrouded in religious ambiguity, was now, for Sykes, a touchstone of idolatry and superstition (Greenblatt 2013; McCorristine 2010, pp. 61–65).

Protestant Christianity across Europe ushered in radical criticisms of religious idolatry and anthropomorphism within a broader critique of scholastic metaphysics. For instance, John Calvin framed idolatry not as worshipping real demonic forces but as things people have “fabricated in their own brain” (in cerebro suo confictos), which served as a false (and thus sinful) mediator between humanity and the divine (Calvin 1559, p. 26, cited in McGee 2023, pp. 9, 26). We can find strands of a similar critique of conceptual idolatry in Martin Luther’s turn against metaphysics and natural theology as “idols in the heart” (idoli in corde) (Luther 1911, p. 604, cited in Oltvai 2020, p. 59). Some subsequent theologians and philosophers, such as Spinoza and Kant, developed upon concerns about anthropomorphic superstition in metaphysics as an obstacle to knowing God (Spinoza 1915, pp. 16, 39–46; Kant 1929, pp. 525–70; 2001, §§57–59).1 Not without irony, Ludwig Feuerbach reversed this critical lens and argued that, as God’s predicates are all anthropomorphisms, their true subject, the real God, is actually humanity (Feuerbach 2012, pp. 97–133; Becker 2008, p. 163). A related logic regarding conceptual idolatry in clouding humanity’s perception of truth is at work among early empiricists, such as Francis Bacon (“four idols of the mind”) and David Hume (Cooper 2019; Russell 2016).2

Beginning perhaps with Hume’s Natural History of Religion (Hume 1757), these currents combined to produce comparative morphologies of religion in which metaphysics that ascribe human or divine powers to gods, animals, or inanimate things were considered popular and vulgar (often in contrast with philosophical theism).3 These typologies were mapped onto distinct cognitive modes, faculties, and modalities of being such that anthropomorphic thinking, ignorance about “true” causality, and beliefs based on needs and base passions represented a primitive form of life.4 This is something of a nineteenth-century hinge belief that was foundational for thinkers as diverse as Max Müller and Friedrich Nietzsche.5 So when Sykes, writing in the middle of the nineteenth century, praises an imagined non-idolatrous early Buddhism from its later manifestations, he was not simply expressing religious opposition to “graven images” but also judging Buddhism on a modern scale of cultural value. Orientalists viewed Buddhism positively insofar as Gotama Buddha was treated as an ally in post-Reformation Europe’s fixation either with perfecting metaphysics, overcoming it through empiricism and, later, phenomenology, or apophatically abandoning it altogether.6 The rest of Theravāda Buddhist thought in particular could be ignored on a sliding scale of distaste, beginning with its living spirits, gods, and cosmology and often extending to the realism of its later Abhidhamma.

The legacy of this sentiment toward Buddhist cosmology as empirically false or as a reflection of a lower-order mental state, a “disease of language”, to use Max Müller’s expression (Müller 1862, p. 22; Yelle 2013),7 is that there are only two Theravāda Buddhist cosmological works translated in the English language. The only Pali work is the Pañca- or Cha-gati-dīpanī (Light on the Five/Six Realms).8 This hundred-verse poem introduces the cosmos’s realms of living beings and the types of karma bringing about rebirth in these realms. An anonymous monk translated the poem into Pali from the Sanskrit Ṣaḍ-gati-kārikā (Verses on the Six Realms), possibly in the twelfth century (von Hinüber 1996, §394). The status of this work as one of very few to receive any scholarly attention owes much to the fact that it caught the attention of French philologists, especially Paul Mus, whose presuppositions differed somewhat from their British and German counterparts. For instance, Mus opens his study of the Ṣaḍ-gati-kārikā (Mus 1939, v–xxii) by criticizing key aspects of the dominant civilizational framework of his day, Lucien Lévy-Bruhl’s distinction between a pre-logical primitive mentality and modern logical mentality, questioning the applicability of its dichotomous depiction of historical progress to Buddhism.

This article offers an analysis of the Light on the Six Realms’s Pali commentary, the Cha-gati-dīpanī-ṭīkā (Light on the Six Realms Commentary), a work Paul Mus relied on in his study of the Verses on the Six Realms but that remains unedited and untranslated.9 The Commentary opens with a poetic, kāvya-style praise of the Buddha. It describes how a certain Assaghosa (Sk. Aśvaghoṣa) composed the Verses on the Six Realms as an abridgment to the Saddharma-smṛty-upasthāna Sūtra. It then notes that the author of the Light translated the Verses on the Six Realms into Pali for the benefit of those with a weak understanding (mudu-paññā), possibly of Sanskrit (fol. 4^Ib–5^Ib).10 The anonymous Commentary was likely composed in the first half of the second millennium and, alongside commenting on the Light, it incorporates and translates relevant parts of a Sāṃmitīya recension of the Loka-prajñapti (Mus 1939, pp. 33–65).11 The earliest Pali cosmological text, the Loka-paññatti, possibly composed in twelfth-century Pagan, is also a translation of a similar version of the Loka-prajñapti (Denis 1977, I, pp. i–x). The late Eugène Denis edited the Loka-paññatti and translated it into French and, alongside that of Paul Mus, his work forms an invaluable foundation for investigating the Commentary. The Commentary also influenced other Pali cosmological works, and a cursory examination indicates that it was a source for at least one Lao commentary on the Light.12 This article offers a description of this neglected commentary, focusing on the two lowest realms of rebirth, the hell and animal realms, and situates it within its recoverable intellectual context, particularly the source material used. In addition, I introduce some of the work’s core thematic features that highlight blind spots in current discussions about Buddhist views on karmic ethics, rebirth, and animals that exist, in part, due to the continuing neglect of this kind of literature.

2. No Other Actor Is Found

• kāyâdīhi kataṃ kammaṃ attanā yaṃ subhâsubhaṃ |
• phalaṃ tass’ eva bhuñjanti kattā añño na vijjati || 2 ||
• iti mantvā dayâpanno tilokekagaru satthā |
• hitāyâvoca sattānaṃ kammuno yassa yapphalaṃ || 3 ||
• “Those who perform a bodily act, etc.,
• Whether wholesome or unwholesome,
• Will partake of that very act’s fruit.
• There is no other actor involved.
• With this in mind, the compassionate one,
• The three worlds’ sole authority, spoke
• For the benefit of living beings
• About what action leads to what result”.

These opening verses of the Light introduce a succinct definition of karma, stating that actors experience the results of only their past actions and that no other agent is involved. In his introduction to his study of the Verses on the Six Realms, Paul Mus evokes this passage and observes that Buddhist texts are “apparently insensitive to the most obvious contradiction” that “in strict orthodoxy, the one who performs the act and the one who reaps the fruit are not the same person and cannot be, for there is no person” (Mus 1939, p. xix). After surveying the thoughts of his contemporaries about this matter, Mus offers his own resolution to the apparent contradiction. While Mus criticizes Lévy-Bruhl’s civilizational dichotomy between the illogical primitive and the logical modern, he instead reinterprets and universalizes the distinction in terms of psychological states. He retains, for instance, Lévy-Bruhl’s concept of “participations”, mental states in which the usual logic and reasoning of ordinary life is suspended. For Mus, the belief in personal karmic continuity, seemingly in contradiction with “non-self” (anatta), is one such example of a “participation”: a collective, affective disposition brought about through rituals and practices that “in ordinary times” can become “the object of a more stable and reflective belief” (Mus 1939, p. xviii).13

Most philosophically inclined studies of Buddhist ethics similarly prioritize the teachings of “non-self” and those of the Abhidhamma as representing Buddhism’s logical orthodoxy (Walser 2022).14 Jay L. Garfield has recently offered a related criticism of what he sees as a Kantian tendency to discuss Buddhist ethics only from the standpoint of Buddhism’s goal, namely that of an enlightened mind or Buddha. He argues that to do so “would be wrong, would be to ignore the structure of Buddhist moral theory. Buddhist ethics is about path” (Garfield 2015, p. 80). Similarly, Collins (1997, p. 479) once argued that to neglect the highly contextual nature of different Buddhist teachings on the path—especially those demarcated as either conventional (sammati) or absolute (paramattha)—would be like “trying to book a ‘table’ at a restaurant using the language of micro-physics”. However, in the same article, as elsewhere, Collins, like Mus, still equates these different forms of teaching with distinct “cognitive modes”, the “narrative” and “systematic” (Collins 1997, p. 477). Rather than analyzing the type of karmic ethics that the Light and its Commentary introduces as reflecting a cognitive mode or mentality, pace Mus, Collins, and others, it is worth exploring what the Commentary, in particular, can tell us about the discursive situation that warranted the Light’s articulation of personal karma.

While the precise context in which the Commentary was composed may be irretrievable, manuscript evidence suggests that the Light became an important work of cosmological ethics in the Theravāda tradition, and that the Commentary continued to play a role in its reception. The three central Thai khom script manuscripts and the one Burmese script manuscript consulted for this article are all from the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. None of them are entirely readable, though monks may well have still used them for study as they show signs of editing for meaning. The opening of the Commentary at least provides some details about the context of the composition of the Saddharma-smṛty-upasthāna Sūtra, which the Sanskrit Verses (and thus the Light, as its Pali translation) supposedly summarized.15 It states that the Buddha taught this sūtra to ascetics, Brahmans, gods, and humans, according to their different dispositions (āsayânurūpa), and, in addition, it refers to the cosmological knowledge the Buddha imparted as something he acquired as part of his preparations for Buddhahood (sambhāra):

…saka-sambhārâdhigatânuttara-ñāṇâlokabalena lokaṃ volokento addasā bhagavā nānā-kamma-ppabhave sattanikāye. [fol. 4^Ib,_4–5]

“Surveying the world with the light-like power of his ultimate knowledge, acquired by his own preparations [for awakening], the Bhagavan saw groups of living things being reborn as a result of their various actions”.

Regarding the path, then, the text presents cosmological knowledge as an important aspect of an enlightened being’s omniscience and as something to be imparted for the moral education of all living beings, including ascetics, Brahmans, and gods.16 In commenting on the second and third verses of the Light quoted above, the Commentary explains that these verses describe how the Buddha was disposed to give such a cosmological discourse to the assembled living beings. The third verse of the Light presents the second verse’s definition of personal karma as a reflection the Buddha had that filled him with compassion and led him to give his discourse. The Commentary states that, in contemplating that no other actor is involved in karmic retribution apart from the one who acts, the Buddha felt compassion for those who are misled by different philosophies and fall into hell. The Commentary quotes a verse to illustrate what philosophies exactly the Buddha had in mind:

• issaro sabba-bhavānaṃ uppāda-ṭṭhiti-kāraṇaṃ |
• sabbaññū pi ca so sabba-bhāva-rūpa-nivedako ||
• uppāda-ṭṭhiti-nāsānaṃ kāraṇaṃ pakatī ti ca |
• sabbâpetā vadant’ aññe sādhu-siddhanta-vajjitā ||
• sabba-hetu-nirāsa-sabhāvānaṃ bhāvam āhu te |
• sabhāva-vādino aññe pi .. .. .. .. .. .. .. || [fol. 6^Ib,₄–7 ^Ia,₁]17

“God (issara) is the cause of the arising and sustaining of all pleasures and the omniscient one also assigns the form of all living things. Others, who everyone disregards and who are rejected by the settled opinion of the wise, state that material power (pakati) is the cause of arising, sustaining, and disintegrating. Others too, who are proponents of inherent existence (sabhāva-vādi) speak of the existence of desireless (nirāsa) inherent existences (sabhāva) as a cause (hetu) for everything .. .. .. .. .. .. ..”.

The verse situates the Light’s emphasis on personal karma against three views. The first concerns the theistic belief that an omnipotent being rewards our moral behavior. The second, perhaps Sāṃkhya, position is that a material principle or power (Sk., prakṛti) determines moral consequences. Lastly, in a sentence that remains partly illegible, the verse introduces a view of change based on the inherent natures of things without the involvement of any desire (nirāsa). For the Commentary, the claim that there is “no other actor” in verse two of the Light serves to head off such alternative conceptions of moral causality that it deemed particularly harmful. In this regard, the commentary points us to what the poem’s emphasis on personal karma does, not what it represents. Paul Mus was not wrong, then, in viewing statements of personal karmic continuity as participatory insofar as they are contextual and socially embedded but, in my view, slightly missed the mark (under the influence of Lévy-Bruhl) in explaining such language as rooted in a psychological state that stands apart from ordinary logical thought, rather than as simply having a practical function in discourse. To paraphrase Wittgenstein (2009, § 60), whether we say “Bring me the broom!” or “Bring me the broomstick and the brush which is fitted on it!” depends on ordinary usage in a given context rather than any fixed logical distinction.

We glimpse an alternative paramattha paradigm in the Commentary’s explanation that an action (kamma) is what is “performed with the body, etc.” The Commentary offers two main ways of classifying an action: a two- and three-fold classification. In the two-fold classification, an action is either good (subha) or bad (asubha). In the three-fold classification, an action is what one does (kata), what one causes others to do (kārita), and what one condones or approves of (anumodita) [fol. 6^Ib,_1–2].18 The Commentary further explains that performing an act oneself is bodily (kāya-kamma), having someone else do it is verbal (vacī-kamma), and approving of someone else’s action is mental (mano-kamma). It then remarks that in all three cases, the action is “only performed within one’s continuum (attano santāne)” [fol. 6^Ib,₃]. The subtle shift in emphasis from speaking of an actor doing an action to an action occurring within a continuum points to an Abhidhammic context, which analyzes personhood in terms of the causal continuity of five aggregates (khandha-santāna). However, the Commentary’s ethics largely stick to talk of agents rather than khandhas, “brooms” rather than their parts.

3. Going Through Hell with the Loka-Prajñapti

It is the continuing legacy of psycho-social frameworks like Lévy-Bruhl’s, which, as noted, began in the eighteenth century with Hume, that we compartmentalize aspects of mental life and map those modes onto specific forms of religion or religious doctrine. In addition, these presumed forms of religious life are often subsequently treated as isomorphic with particular social groups. For instance, Mus’s distinction between separate psychological dispositions rooted either in participations or logical orthodoxy comes to define his sociology of cosmological knowledge. For Mus, an ideal monastic Saṅgha focuses on nirvana, while the participatory beliefs of karma and rebirth are primarily the concern of laypeople and “less saintly” monks in need of the “adjuvants” of heaven and hell (Mus 1939, p. xxiv).19 In this section, I explore depictions of such hells in the Commentary and highlight how, even in more contemporary works, the details of karmic theory outlined in the Commentary are often ignored or explained away as “popular” religion.

The Light spends almost two-thirds of its verses discussing the lower realms of rebirth: the hells, animals, ghosts, and the asuras (jealous gods). The remaining higher realms comprise the human realm and the gods. The later redactors of the Pali Cha-gati-dīpanī reduced the number of realms to five and renamed the work the Pañca-gati-dīpanī (Light on the five realms). In doing so, they subsumed the asura realm into the god and ghost realms following the orthodox opinion of the Pali commentarial tradition.20 The Light begins its discussion of the lower realms with the first of the eight major hells, the Sañjīva.21 It states in verse six that “Men who kill living beings out of greed, ignorance, fear, or anger, and who raise them for slaughter, surely go to the Sañjīva hell”.22 The Commentary expands on the four causes of murder given in the verse (greed, ignorance, fear, and anger) and frames them as the source of all evil actions (pāpa) and the cause of any rebirth in the lower realms. It quotes a statement from the Buddha not found in the Pali canon that likely comes from another nikāya’s scriptures:

• catūhi bhikkhave kāraṇehi sattā agatiṃ gacchanti. katamehi catūhi?
• lobhato dosato câpi mohato bhayato pi vā |
• iti catūhi jāyante sattā agatigāmino || [fol. 7^Ib,₅]
• “Monks, living beings go to a bad state for four reasons. Due to what four?
• Due to greed, anger, ignorance, or fear.
• Thus, beings who go to bad states
• are born there for four reasons”.

While the Commentary comments on the Light’s verses, it includes long, discrete descriptions of each realm drawn from the Loka-prajñapti, and this is the case for its description of the Sañjīva hell. As noted by Mus (1939, pp. 33–65) and Denis (1977, I, pp. xl–xlix), most of these descriptions are shared with the Pali Loka-paññatti, which translated a very similar version of the Loka-prajñapti to the one the author of the Commentary used. The descriptions of the eight great hells in both the Commentary and the Loka-paññatti also overlap considerably with the Mahā-vastu, part of the Mahāsāṅghika-Lokottaravādin Vinaya, which, at least partly, relied on a source similar to the Loka-prajñapti as well. These descriptions of hell, then, were commonly viewed as authoritative by the Lokottaravādins, the Sāṃmitīyas, and, by the early second millennium, the Southeast Asian Theravādins as well.23 Compare, for instance, in

Table 1. A comparative table of the descriptions of the Sañjīva hell.

CHA-GATI-DĪPANĪ-ṬĪKĀ, fol. 9Ia,1–9Ib,2	LOKA-PAÑÑATTI, I, pp. 93,8–94,4
kassa kammassa vipākato te pana sattā tattha uppajjantī ti. yathā idh’ eva loke sapattā vā sapatta-verikā vā parājita-rājāno vā khetta-verikā vā vatthu-verikā vā paṭirājāno vā corā vā gāma-ghātikā vā añña-m-aññaṃ paṭigha-cittaṃ upaṭṭhapetvā kālaṃ karonti. tassa kammassa vipākato tattha sattā uppajjanti. evaṃ vuttānam pi pāpakānaṃ kammānaṃ vipākato tattha sattā uppajjantī ti daṭṭhabbaṃ. kassa kammassa vipākato pana sattā tacchiyantī ti. yathā idha loke ādhipacca-vasena vā maṃsa-lobhena vā kodha-vasena vā sajīvake satte tacchanti vā tacchāpenti vā. tassa kammassa vipākato sattā tacchiyanti. kassa kammassa vipākato pana tesaṃ sīto vāto paṭivāyatī ti. idha loke nivāpa-bhojanāni ye denti migānaṃ mahisānaṃ sukarānaṃ kukkuṭānaṃ thūla-maṃsatthāya tassa kammassa vipākato tesaṃ sīto vāto paṭivāyati. kassa kammassa vipākato pana tesaṃ hatthesu asinakhā jāyantī ti. idha loke rājāno vā rāja-maccādayo vā paresaṃ hatthesu āvudhāni datvā evam āṇāpenti. ettha tumhe va imehi āvudhehi itthan-nāmaṃ gāmaṃ vā nigamaṃ vā jana-padaṃ vā manusse vā tiracchāna-gate vā hanatha vā mārethā ti vadanti. tassa kammassa vipākato tesaṃ hatthesu asi-nakhā jāyanti.24	kassa kammassa vipākato tattha sattā upapajjanti. yathā idha sapatta-verikā vā parājita-rājāno vā khetta-verikā vatthu-verikā vā paṭiverikā vā paṭirājāno vā corā vā gāma-hatā vā añña-m-aññamhi sapatta-cittāni upaṭṭhāpetvā kālaṃ karonti tassa kammassa vipākato tattha sattā upapajjanti. evaṃ kho pana vividhānaṃ pi pāpakānaṃ akusalānaṃ kammānaṃ vipākā tattha sattā upapajjanti. evaṃ kho pana adhipateyyaṃ etaṃ tatth’ upapattiyā. tatth’ upapanno aññesaṃ vividhānaṃ pi pāpakānaṃ akusalānaṃ kammānaṃ vipākaṃ paccanubhoti. kissa kammassa vipākato tacchayanti. yathā idha jīvantake pāṇake tacchetā vā honti tacchāpetā vā tassa kammassa vipākato tacchayanti. kissa kammassa vipākato tesaṃ sītakā vātā upavāyanti. yathā idha nivāpa-bhojanāni dentā honti migānaṃ mahiṃsānaṃ sukarānaṃ kukkuṭānaṃ thūla-maṃsatthāya vadhissāmā ti tassa kammassa vipākato tesaṃ sītakā vātā vāyanti. kissa kammassa hatthesu nakhā jāyanti asiyo vā āyasā. yathā idha āyudhāni dentā honti ettha tumhe imehi āyudhehi itthan-nāmaṃ gāmaṃ vā janapadaṃ vā hanatha manusse vā tiracchāna-gate vā tassa kammassa vipākato tesaṃ hatthesu nakhā jāyanti asiyo va āyasā.
MAHĀ-VASTU, I, pp. 16,8–17,6	LOKA-PRAJÑAPTI,25 T1644, 207bc
kasya karmasya vipākena tatra satvā upapadyanti. iha sapatnā ye vā bhonti sāpatnakā vā vairiṇaḥ kṣetra-vairikā vā vastu-vairikā vā vapra-vairikā vā pratirājāno vā caurā vā saṃgrāma-gatā anya-m-anyasmiṃ sāpatnāni cittāni upasthāpayitvā kālaṃ kurvanti. tasya karmasya vipākato tatra satvā upapadyanti. evaṃ khalu punaḥ ādhipateya-mātram etaṃ tatropapatteḥ. tatropapannā anyeṣāṃ pi pāpakānām akuśalānāṃ karmāṇāṃ vipākaṃ pratyanubhavanti. kasya karmasya vipākena takṣīyanti. yehi iha jīvanto prāṇakā tacchitā bhavanti vāsīhi paraśūhi kuṭhārīhi tasya karmasya vipākena takṣīyanti. kasya karmasya vipākato teṣāṃ śītako vāyu upavāyati. yehi iha nivāpaka-bhojanāni dattāni bhonti śṛgāla-mahiṣāṇa-śūkarāṇa-kukkuṭāna-poṣitāni māṃsārthāya vadhiṣyāmi tti tasya karmasya vipākato teṣāṃ . . . . . . . . .26 hasteṣu nakhā jāyanti daṇḍā vā āyasā. yathā iha āyudha-yānāni dattāni bhonti evaṃ yūyaṃ imehi āyudhehi itthaṃ-nāmaṃ grāmaṃ vā nagaraṃ vā nigamaṃ vā hanadhvaṃ manuṣyāṃ vā tiracchāna-gatāṃ vā tasya karmasya vipākato teṣāṃ hasteṣu daṇḍā vāyasā jāyanti asino ca.	以何行 業起此果報。令諸眾生於彼中生。昔在人中 眾多女人。共一夫主互相瞋妬。若多男子共 諍一女起怨家心。或邪婬他婦或諍田園及 車乘等。或二國王諍於隣地。或劫盜他財為 財主所治。共結怨家如人交陣。更相殘戮。已結怨家未相解謝。懷此命終由此業報彼中受生。復次種種諸惡不善業報故於彼中生。復次 有增上業感彼中生。彼中生已受用種種惡 業果報。云何業因令諸罪人更相殘斫。昔在人中執持鐇斧及刀仗等。斬斫有命眾生之 類。是故於中受相斫報。復次何業為冷風所 吹而復更生。昔在人中畜養飲食。牛鹿猪羊 鷄鴨之屬得肥長已。為得多肉當復烹殺。由此業報感彼冷風還得暫活。云何業報得生利爪如利劍。昔在人中給人刀仗。作如此教汝等可來。某處州郡及縣邑等。往彼行殺或 人或畜。由此業報劍爪得生。

a part of the Commentary’s more detailed description of the Sañjīva hell with the Pali Loka-paññatti, the Mahā-vastu, and the extant Chinese translation of the Loka-prajñapti.

The Commentary on the Light’s verse on the Sañjīva hell (v.6) first analyzes its wording and intended meaning before engaging in a more expansive description of the hell using material from the Loka-prajñapti. It describes how hell guardians (niraya-pala) torture the living beings born there until they faint. A cool wind then revives them, and they regenerate with knives on their fingers instead of nails. The hell beings then flay each other to death, only to be revived once more for the process to start again. This torturous cycle of death and revival gives the Sañjīva its name, the “Reviving” hell. The Commentary details the karma, the immoral behavior, that brought about each of the hell’s features. The passage cited above in Table 1 captures this aspect, and the following is a translation of the Commentary’s version:

“Further, what karma results in living beings being reborn there? In this very world, for instance, rivals, hostile adversaries, defeated kings, adversaries over land and property, enemy kings, thieves, or village murderers die harboring murderous thoughts toward one another. Living beings are born there as a result of that karma. You should understand that evil karmas already mentioned also result in living beings being reborn there. What karma, then, results in living beings being tortured? In this world, for instance, due to power, greed for meat, or out of anger, they torture or order others to torture beings while they are still alive. That karma results in them being tortured. What karma, then, results in a cool wind blowing on them? There are those in this world who give fodder and food to wild animals, buffalos, pigs, and chickens to fatten them up for slaughter. That karma results in a cool wind blowing on them. What karma, then, results in living beings growing nails of knives? Kings or their ministers in this world put weapons in the hands of others and instruct them. ‘Here, with these weapons, attack or kill such a village, market town, country, humans or animals.’ That karma results in their nails turning into knives”.

A feature of this section of the Commentary is that the initial analysis of bad karma, in terms of greed, anger, ignorance, and fear, falls into the background. Instead, the Commentary focuses on the specific actions that bring about the punishments in the hell and frames them in a kind of “contrapasso” dynamic. For instance, the act of giving food to livestock to fatten them up for slaughter produces the pleasant cool wind in the hell that ultimately revives the living beings so that hell guardians can kill them once more. The emphasis on specific actions and the mirroring retribution they bring about in hell continues throughout the Commentary’s description of the underworld. Compare, for instance, a passage from the Commentary’s account of the sixteen auxiliary hells (nirayussada) that surround each of the eight main hells. This section is also noteworthy in that it has no parallel in the Mahā-vastu, deviates from the Loka-paññatti and Loka-prajñapti, and uses similar language to the Pali commentary on the Deva-dūta Sutta, suggesting perhaps that the latter was also a source (Akita 2022, p. 176).

gūdha-nirayussado tassa bahiddhā anto-kūṭâgāra-matta-vitacchitaṅgāra-paripuṇṇo āditta-cchārikā-nirayo yattha kukkule patitā sattā tattha kukkuḷa-rāsimhi khitta-sāsapa-siddhattha-telādīnī viya heṭṭhima-talam eva gaṇhanti.27 so pana nirayo gūdha-nirayato nikkhanta-sattānaṃ sama-bhūmi-talaṃ susammaṭṭha-rājaṅgaṇaṃ viya khāyati. tattha patita-matten’ eva sakala-sariraṃ madhu-sittha-piṇḍaṃ viya vilīyati. īdisaṃ dukkham anubhavamānā sattā na ca tāva kālaṃ karonti yāva na taṃ kammaṃ byantigataṃ hoti. kassa kammassa vipākato sattā taṃ dukkham anubhavantī ti. yathā idha jīvantake pāṇake tatta-paṃsuke vā tatta-vālukāsu vā pakkhipanti dusīla-pabbajitā vā cīvara-senāsanāni paribhuñjanti. tassa kammassa vipākato taṃ dukkham anubhavanti.28

“Beyond the auxiliary hell of excrement, there is a hell of burning ash, which inside is filled with embers, fashioned as high as a gabled house. The living beings descend into the pile of burning charcoal, tossed in like dark or white mustard seeds, and resemble seed oil once they have reached the bottom. Furthermore, when living beings emerge from the hell of excrement, this hell appears flat with an even surface, much like a well-swept palace courtyard. As soon as they fall on it, their whole bodies melt like a lump of honey or beeswax. While experiencing such pain, the living beings do not pass away until their karma is exhausted. What karma results in the suffering the living beings experience? In this world, for instance, people throw living creatures into heated soil or sand. Or, there are poorly behaved renunciates who misuse robes, beds, and chairs. That karma results in them experiencing that pain”.29

With respect to the “hell of embers”, then, we have another moral connection established between a specific action, in this case burying creatures alive in hot sand or soil, and the equivalent punishment in hell, being buried in a heap of hot embers. The additional mention of monastic Vinaya infringements is also a common feature of the work’s discussion of the lower realms, though, in these cases, there is no explicit mirroring connection between the physical act and its result. While I only cite two examples here, we can find this contrapasso dynamic throughout the Commentary’s description of the hell realms. It is also a feature found in the Pali commentaries, other early second-millennium Pali works on rebirth and karma, and contemporary monastic publications.30

As Bronwyn Finnigan pointed out (Finnigan 2022, p. 14), the academic study of Buddhist ethics has almost entirely ignored this form of moral reflection, which she refers to as the doctrine of karma’s “transcendental commitments”.31 One notable exception is Bruce Reichenbach (1990), who distinguished between “subjective” and “objective” aspects of karma. The first concerns the way our saṅkhāras—“dispositions, desires, and intentions” (Reichenbach 1990, p. 27)—shape our actions, which, in turn, reshape our saṅkhāras and alter how we experience the world.32 The second concerns how our actions condition objective changes to “the kinds of bodies with which we are reborn, our social status, and how other persons and things in the environment act on us” (p. 31). Reichenbach was led to this dichotomy because he struggled to reconcile the causal mechanisms of saṅkhāras with the karmic results described in Buddhist texts such as those outlined above, where those who put weapons in the hands of others have their hands chopped off in hell, for instance. Finding such examples in conflict with his naturalistic understanding of causality and character development, Reichenbach had to introduce another category to account for this aspect of karma.33 While Reichenbach and Finnigan commendably accommodate the ethical reflections found in texts like the Commentary, it is important to recognize that framing certain aspects of karma as “transcendent” arises primarily from the imposition of such naturalistic, Humean models of causality onto karma theory. Within Theravāda causal frameworks, karma in the Commentary would not be transcendent (lokuttara) in any sense.34

However, the dominant approach to the kind of karma outlined in the Commentary is either to ignore it or explain it away. For instance, Damien Keown (1996) criticized Reichenbach’s distinction and argued we can understand karma theory entirely in terms of saṅkhāras and dismisses the “objective” elements Reichenbach noted as central to karma theory. Keown dismisses one such instance in the Dhammapada commentary as “commentarial”, “uncanonical”, and “popular”, suggesting it would be “unwise to regard it as an authoritative teaching on karma” (Keown 1996, pp. 341–42). This stance devalues later Buddhist traditions and uses the notion of the “popular” (i.e., vulgar religion) to explain a perceived deviation from a posited, more refined rationality, which, as in many philosophical studies, is viewed in the abstract rather than as embedded in a particular intellectual enterprise. Keown does concede, however, that “situations…where a specific cause is linked to a specific effect, are the most difficult for the saṃskāra theory to explain”. Recent works on Buddhist ethics in philosophy, such as those by Gowans (2015) and Garfield (2022), similarly prioritize naturalized, disposition-focused ethical theories while often downplaying or ignoring karma and rebirth. In the case of Christopher W. Gowans’ Buddhist Moral Philosophy, for instance, Gowans argues that the teachings of karma and rebirth are inconsistent with the doctrine of “no self”, conflict with modern science, and, in some respects, are “morally unacceptable” (Gowans 2015, p. 79). Consequently, his chapter on these aspects of Buddhism seeks to “eliminate and significantly modify these doctrines” (Gowans 2015, p. 77). Such approaches reflect an effort to render Buddhist ethics intelligible and relevant within a contemporary, secular framework, which, in foregroundingnaturalism, can reproduce problematic scales of cultural value against which Buddhist thought is measured.35

4. Getting Real with the Hell Guardians

A fully naturalized view of karma as habitual intentional attitudes that leave us predisposed to experience our lives in specific ways can also render states of hell or heaven as primarily figurative entities. As Garfield writes, “their real ethical punch is metaphorical” (Garfield 2022, p. 64). While this statement may be true of certain contemporary forms of Buddhism, it is important to stress, as Garfield is aware, that the “reality” of hell is also dependent on the epistemic framework of the tradition in which hell is a subject of discourse. In this regard, while the Commentary treats hell’s ethical punches, and its stabbings, flayings, and burnings, for that matter, as very real indeed, it contains a lengthy digression not found in the Loka-prajñapti concerning the ontological status of the hell guardians inflicting these punishments. This passage is also partly incorporated in the post-fifteenth-century Thai cosmological work, the Loka-saṇṭhāna-jota-ratana-gaṇṭhi, which used the Commentary as a source.36 This cosmological issue is a feature of debate across several Indian Buddhist traditions. It is best known from the well-documented view of the Yogācārins, as found in Vasubandhu’s Viṃśatikā-kārikā, that hell guardians are mental, karmic projections. The Commentary is of particular historical interest in this regard as it instead articulates a Sārvāstivāda position alongside critical representations of other Buddhist schools.37

The discussion about the reality of hell guardians in the Commentary comes at the beginning of a section on Yama’s hells (fol. 27^Ib,₃–6^IIa,₂). These ten hells that King Yama rules are situated above the eight great nirayas and their ancillary hells. The Commentary describes Yama as a “celestial ghost” (vimānika-peta) who divides his time between a luxurious heavenly palace and his kingdom in hell. At the four doors to his hell are advisors Siri and Gutta, who read out from a metal sheet (potthaka) the consequences of the karma of the living beings entering hell. Upon their instruction, hell guardians fling the beings into hell and carry out their punishment (fol. 27^Ib,₃–4^IIa,₁).38 While not explicitly mentioned in the Commentary, the controversy over the ontological status of hell guardians stems from a perceived karmic paradox that hell guardians inhabit hell yet are not subject to its tortures.39 As living denizens of hell, they should, in theory, have a karmic background similar to those they are torturing.40 The same paradox does not apply to Yama, however, as he is not a resident of hell but rather a powerful peta who, for his sins, presides over hell while, due to his good karma, spending time in his heavenly palace.

The Commentary, however, does not directly address the context of this debate—perhaps because it was well known enough not to need repeating—and begins by simply noting some of the differing views on the ontological status of the hell guardians:

ettha pana eke ācariyā vadanti niraya-pālā nāma n’ atthi yanta-rūpaṃ viya kammam eva karaṇaṃ karotī ti. apare [+ samayena, B] abhidhammika-therā aññathā vadanti. yathā hi atthi nirayapālā sacchikaṭṭha-paramatthenā ti āmantā atthi niraya-pālā asacchikaṭṭha-paramatthenā [atthi … °paramatthenā, om. B] ti. yathā idha loke guṇa-dosa-vinicchaya-ṭhāne [°ṭhāne, om. A] kārakā [vinicchaya-kārakā, C D] dosa-guṇânurūpa-niggahânuggahaṃ [ânuggahānuggahaṃ, B] karonti. tathā kamma-nimmānato [°nimmānam antarenā, B] pi kammânurūpa-vipākânubhāva-dāyakā bhavantī ti vadanti.

“In this regard, however, some teachers say that the hell guardians do not exist and that it is karma itself that brings about the activity like a mechanical device. Other Abhidharma elders say otherwise, as, when asked if hell guardians exist in a true and ultimate sense, they say, yes they exist (B), [but not in a true and ultimate sense, (A, C, D)]. In this world, some in courts of law make judgements about what is good and bad and give punishments and favors accordingly. In the same way, without being a karmic formation (B) [/as a karmic formation (A, C, D)], there are those who bestow results and consequences in accordance with karma”.

The Commentary here introduces two or three different views about the ontological status of hell guardians. The ambiguity stems from the khom manuscripts (A, C, D) offering alternative readings to the Burmese manuscript (B), which, in my opinion, often represents an older version of the text. I point out these differences below, but at the outset, all manuscripts quote the same view of “some teachers” (eke ācariyā), who likely represent a Sarvāstivādin position, that the hell guardians do not exist as living beings, but are rather physical, mechanical devices, like robots (yanta-rūpa), created by karma.41 While the Commentary does not make it explicit, the karma of the living beings born in hell creates the robots that punish them.

The Commentary then introduces the contrasting view of certain “Abhidhamma elders”. Here is where the manuscript witnesses differ. The Commentary quotes an Abhidhamma text, which in style is similar to the Pali Kathā-vatthu but is not identical with it. The Burmese manuscript version asserts that hell guardians exist in “a true and ultimate sense”. If we follow the doxographical claims of other Buddhist literature, this position may well correspond to that of the Mahāsaṅghikas or Sāṃmitīyas. The central Thai khom manuscripts, however, add a caveat. The hell beings exist, they say, but specifically “not in a true and ultimate sense”.42 This corresponds with the orthodox Theravāda position on the nature of hell guardians and likely represents a modification made by Theravāda monks to make sense of this passage on their terms. Similarly, the Burmese manuscript states that, in this other view, the hell guardians act “without being a karmic formation” (kamma-nimmānam antarena) whereas the khom manuscripts state that hell guardians act “as a karmic formation” (kamma-nimmānato).

The rest of the discussion consists of a rebuttal of the view that the hell guardians exist “in a true and ultimate sense” and not as a manifestation of karma. First, the Commentary asks if, in such a view, the hell guardians manifest by themselves or due to a cause. If it is the former, the Commentary rejects the view as similar to those who believe in a creator God as a cause of karmic retribution (fol. 4^IIa,₄–4^IIb₁).43 Alternatively, the hell guardians may arise due to a cause. But in that case, since the opponent believes that karma is not involved in the manifestation of hell guardians, the only possible cause would be environmental (utu-paccaya). This would mean that the hell guardians would not be sentient (sacittaka). However, that would essentially make them like the Sarvāstivādin “mechanical devices”, just with the environment as a cause for their manifestation rather than karma. If the opponent wants the hell guardians to be sentient and to have minds, they would be subject to karma, as karma governs minds (fol. 4^IIb,₂–₅).44

The Commentary then turns to whether and in what way the hell guardians can be said to inhabit the hell realm (gati) or not. If they are not there as an outcome of karma, then, again, they act as agents of karmic retribution while standing outside of karma as a mechanism. Interpreting what follows in the text is challenging due to the significant differences between the khom manuscripts and the Burmese. The khom manuscripts (A, C, D) modulate the opponent’s position to correspond to a Theravāda perspective and represent the opponent as only specifically rejecting the Sarvāstivāda view that “only karma brings about the activity like a mechanical device (yanta-rūpa)”, not the fact that the sentient hell guardians are caused by karma (kamma-nimmita). The Burmese manuscript (B), however, continues to represent the opponent as rejecting the karmic construction of hell beings entirely.45 In all manuscripts, however, the Commentary concludes that “from all perspectives it is reasonable to accept that the hell guardian’s existence is constructed by kamma” (fol. 4^IIb,₅–5^IIa,₃).46 It does not specify whether the karma that creates the hell guardians would be that of the hell guardians or the karma of the beings sent to hell. If the former, the position would not resolve the paradox that led the Sarvāstivāda to suggest that hell beings were like mechanical devices in the first place.47

However, the Commentary’s main concern is to critique the idea of anything in existence standing outside the workings of karma. It emphasizes this again at the end of its discussion of the status of hell guardians and highlights the dangers of viewing them as not conditioned by karma. Such a view would result, the Commentary points out, in hell guardians having similar moral powers to those ascribed to a creator God. In addition, if such agents were needed to carry out karmic retribution for bad deeds, then, by the same logic, there would need to be similar, effectively transcendent agents facilitating the rewards of good karma, too. In the end, the Commentary remarks, the proponents of this view would have to “accept that the whole world combined is an agent” of karmic retribution. It again emphasizes that there would be no difference between this view and those who believe in the moral agency of a creator God (fol. 5^IIa,₃–6^IIa,₂).48

The issue of the reality of hell guardians is embedded in the practical, rather than formal, rationality of a historically developing theory of karma. The origin of this debate stems from the view that living beings born in the same realm (gati) share similar karmic histories and so should face similar karmic consequences. For some, the reality of hell guardians posed a problem as they did not suffer the pain the other living beings there endured. The Sarvāstivāda answered this perceived conundrum by arguing that hell guardians are mere automatons, mechanisms of karmic consequence. Their opponents, who we may identify with the Sāṃmitīyas or Mahāsaṅghikas, instead resolved the issue by claiming that hell guardians were real living beings not subject to the karma of the hell realm. Note that a view of the gatis as having a particular karmic uniformity frames the whole debate. The Pali commentarial tradition, on the other hand, found no warrant for any contradiction as their scriptures depicted hell guardians as living beings and each realm as not necessarily so uniform, manifesting a wide range of karmic results.

However, in the Commentary, the perceived contradiction that stimulated the debate on the reality of hell guardians essentially disappears. Instead, the text focuses solely on refuting the view that hell guardians are living beings standing outside a hell’s karmic system. As with the emphasis on personal karma, the Commentary’s primary concern is to avoid imputing the existence of any transcendent being or principle within the cosmological order as necessary for moral causation. This overriding commitment apparently allows the Commentary to claim that any view of the hell guardians is appropriate as long as karma conditions their existence. This standpoint may seem to be incongruous with the very foundations of the whole debate. However, within this specific discursive situation, these positions are treated as commensurable in fending off the different doctrinal threat of transcendent agency. The continually shifting parameters of debate manifest also in the manuscripts of the Commentary itself and in a later Pali text, the Loka-saṇṭhāna-jota-ratana-gaṇṭhi. There, the orthodox Theravāda view that hell guardians are conditioned living beings like any other is edited into the text and, in the case of the Loka-saṇṭhāna-jota-ratana-gaṇṭhi, the work excises more complex sections of the debate no longer deemed relevant.

5. Animal Kingdoms

After the sections on the major and ancillary hells, the Light moves on to the animal (tiracchāna) realm, the second lowest realm in its six-fold schema. Compared with the forty or so verses on the hells, the Light only spends seven discussing animals. Similarly, the Commentary’s treatment of animals is relatively brief but it continues to supplement its analysis of the animal verses in the Light with more extensive material compiled from the Loka-prajñapti.49 These materials reveal a detailed, systematic, and hierarchical vision of the animal realm that reflects a consolidation of and development upon the distinctions and classifications found in the earliest Buddhist literature and canonical commentaries (Ohnuma 2017). Scholarship on Buddhism, animals, and the environment often overlooks the kind of scholastic ordering and categorization of animal life that we find in the Commentary, in part due to the anti-metaphysical commitments informing our approaches.

Buddhism-inspired deep ecologists like Arne Naess (1978, 2008) and Michael E. Zimmerman (2006), for instance, have emphasized affinities between a mystical Zen, environmentalist thought, and European philosophers who challenged scholastic metaphysical tradition, such as Baruch Spinoza and Martin Heidegger. In Zimmerman’s Buddhism (Zimmerman 2006, p. 316), “Humans can encounter birds and trees, lakes and sky, humans and mountains not as independent, substantial, self-enclosed entities, but rather as temporary constellations of appearances: self-giving phenomena arising simultaneously”. By contrast, with respect to the Pali tradition, scholarship has often explained away depictions of animals in texts like the jātakas as “folk” and allegorical. Ian Harris (2006, p. 208) wrote, for instance, that “the often highly anthropomorphic character of the essentially pre-Buddhist folk-tradition of these narratives is largely devoid of ‘naturalistic’ content”.

Despite their differences, a familiar framework hangs over both views of Buddhism. For the naturalists, scientific rationality stands above “folk” psychology, which encompasses metaphysics with its anthropomorphic “powers” and “causes”. Others, like the Heideggerians, reject this hierarchy, instead valorizing an “authentic” mode of being grounded in a more primordial relation to existence (though Heidegger’s later works shift away from a specifically folk-rooted framing) that is similarly critically contrasted with traditional metaphysics.50 While there may be a formal similarity between Harris’s naturalism, Naess’s or Zimmerman’s “deep ecology”, and the views of some Buddhists on some stages of the path and in some Buddhist traditions, what we may lose between the analytical approaches of naturalists and deep ecologists is an appreciation of the kind of totalizing, categorical descriptions (which Western scholars of Buddhism have viewed from the outside as “metaphysics”) that characterize late medieval Theravāda monastic thought about animals and their place in the cosmos.51

The Commentary’s discussion of the animal realm begins by categorizing all animals in terms of their number of feet. There are those without feet, like snakes and fish; those with two feet, like birds and monkeys; those with four feet, like elephants and lions; and those with many feet, like centipedes, scorpions, and spiders (fol. 9^IIb,₂–₃). The Commentary depicts each of these categories as caste-based, centralized, hierarchical domains ordered in terms of the power and dominance (issariyâdhipacca) particular creatures have over others.52 For instance, the nāgas, serpent-like creatures, are dominant over all animals with no feet. The Commentary describes many nāga kings ruling various regions, especially the oceans and underground depths. The oceans are a complex case, however, as while two nāgas, Kambhala and Assatara, rule over the nāgas in the sea, there is also a giant fish, Ānanda, who holds “power and dominance” over all fish and other ocean creatures. There are also different nāga clans, distinguished by how they impart their venom, namely through sight, touch, breath, and bite. The nāga king ruling over the biting clan, the Kaṇhāgotamakas, for instance, also rules venomous snakes and snake-like creatures, which are categorized by their snake caste, whether Brahmans, Khattiyas, Vessas, or Suddas (fol. 9^IIb,₃–10^IIb,₅).

The Commentary presents information about the animal realm as an ordered compilation of detailed facts. There is no strong presence of the “narrative” textual forms that are often used to explain away cosmological creatures as merely literary figures. For instance, when discussing the realm of two-footed creatures, the Commentary states that Venateyya, a giant bird (supaṇṇa, garuḍa), rules over all birds in the world, and that the heroic primates from the Rāmāyana, Hanumān, Bāli, and Sugrīva, rule over the monkeys and other similar creatures. The Commentary is particularly concerned with the size of Venateyya and states that the length of each of his wings and the space between his wings is fifty yojanas. His body is one hundred and fifty yojanas wide and five hundred yojanas long. The circumference of his mouth is nine yojanas, his crest is three yojanas, and his head feathers are ten yojanas long. His ears are two yojanas, his beak, three yojanas, and his tongue is one yojana long (fol. 11^IIa,₁–₄).53

This propensity for fine-grained detail is no more apparent than in the Commentary’s discussion of the complex societies of elephants. The Commentary describes the supreme king of the elephants, Rucāgiri, as living on the north side of the Himalayas near the Mandākinī lake. He rules over a court of elephants of a variety of different colors. However, the text mentions three other elephant kings, Uposatha, Chaddanta, and Sīlavā. King Uposatha is gold in color, rules over many yellow elephants, and should also serve as a universal emperor’s (cakkavatti) vehicle. His two daughters are both wives of Chaddanta, king of the Chaddanta elephants. Finally, Sīlavā is the king of the so-called “fragrant” (gandha) elephants and other ordinary elephants (pakati-hatthi) (fol. 12^IIa,₃–13^IIa,₄). The Commentary elaborates about the eating and bathing practices of King Rucāgiri and the hierarchy of his court.

yadā rucā-giri nāma nāga-rājā mandākiniyaṃ nhāyitu-kāmo gacchati tadā te kāla-hatthino maggañ ca tiṇañ ca paṭisodhenti. atha so rucā-giri nāga-rājā nāga-saṃgha-parikkhitto tena maggena mandākiniṃ gacchati. tassa agga-mahesiyo kumbha-sandhovakaṃ piṭṭhi-sandhovakaṃ danta-sandhovakaṃ ādāya taṃ parivāretvā gacchanti. so mandākiniṃ pavisitvā nhāyati. tadā aññe nāgā mālāni ganthenti aññe āveḷakaṃ aññe vataṃsakaṃ karonti. so nāgo paccuttiṇṇo uppala-mālā-dhārī supatiṭṭhita-nigrodhaṃ gantvā paṭivasati. itare pi attano vaṇṇa-kulânukkamena paccuttiṇṇā tatth’ eva gantvā taṃ anuparivārenti. tato kāla-hatthino pacchā-nhātāni bhisa-mūlāni abbāhetvā acelakaṃ katvā sudhotāni suvikkhālitāni katvā supatiṭṭhitaṃ nigrodha-mūlaṃ gantvā kāla-hatthinīnaṃ denti. kāla-hatthiniyo nīla-hatthīnaṃ denti. nīla-hatthino nīla-hatthinīnaṃ denti. nīla-hatthiniyo lohita-hatthīnaṃ denti. lohita-hatthino lohita-hatthinīnaṃ denti. lohita-hatthiniyo pīta-hatthīnaṃ denti. pīta-hatthino pīta-hatthinīnaṃ denti. pīta-hatthiniyo seta-hatthīnaṃ denti. seta-hatthino seta-hatthinīnaṃ denti. sabbe hatthino tāni añña-m-aññassa datvā tato bhojenti. iminā niyāmena taṃ bhojetvā tassa ārakkhaṃ saṃvidahitvā va tato nivattitvā sabbe hatthino anukkamena gantvā attano āhāra-kiccaṃ karonti.54 (fol. 12^IIa,₅–13^IIa,₁)55

“When the elephant king, Rucāgiri, wants to go and bathe in the Mandākinī River, the black elephants clear the path and the grass. The elephant king Rucāgiri then goes along the path to the Mandākinī River with a retinue of elephants surrounding him. His chief queens accompany him as they proceed, taking scrubbers for his forehead, back scrubbers, and his toothbrush. The king enters the Mandākinī River and bathes. Some elephants then tie garlands, some make a headdress, and others make a chaplet for him. When the king gets out, he puts on a blue lotus flower garland, walks over to a very sturdy Banyan tree and rests there. The others also get out following the rank of their caste (vaṇṇa) and family lineage (kula), go to where the king is, and surround him. After bathing, the black male elephants dig up lotus roots and wash and rinse them thoroughly. They then go to the foot of the very sturdy Banyan tree and give them to the black female elephants. The black female elephants give them to the dark blue male elephants. The dark blue male elephants give them to the dark blue female elephants. The dark blue female elephants give them to the red male elephants. The red male elephants give them to the red female elephants. The red female elephants give them to the yellow male elephants. The yellow male elephants give them to the yellow female elephants. The yellow female elephants give them to the white male elephants. The white male elephants give them to the white female elephants. Once all the elephants have given each other the lotus roots, they feed the king. Once they have fed him in this way, all the elephants ensure the king is guarded before turning away from him and proceeding, according to their rank, to attend to their own meal duties”.

The realm of the four-footed creatures has more kings than any other. Alongside the elephant kings, there is Valāha, king of the horses, and the great bull king who rules over all cattle, including oxen, buffaloes, goats, and sheep. Lions, like elephants, also have a complex social structure. There are five kinds of lions: black lions, grass-colored lions, white lions, human lions, and maned lions. The human lion has a lion’s head and a human body and exists only during periods in which buddhas have arisen. The maned lion is the most powerful among the lions and rules all four-legged animals, including hares, deer, and mice. Finally, the crocodile king rules all other four-legged creatures in the oceans, rivers, and lakes. The last domain of creatures with many feet has one king, the Great Crab king (fol. 13^IIa,₄–14^IIa,₁). Such a picture of animal life is a far cry from the apophatic ethos that pervades much Buddhism-inspired environmentalist thought.

While the animal realm is the second lowest realm in the cosmos’s moral hierarchy, the Commentary explains the varying fortunes of animals, with some born as animal kings in relatively pleasurable circumstances, as the result of a mixture of wholesome and unwholesome actions performed in their previous lives (fol. 14^IIa,₂–14^IIb,₅). To be born as a powerful serpent, nāga, for instance, one may have been very generous (dātar) but also bad-tempered and cruel (kodhana, krūra). Both the Light and its Commentary similarly connect different kinds of animal birth with particular types of unwholesome karma. For instance, sensual desire leads to rebirth as a swan, dove, or donkey; delusion leads to rebirth as an insect; anger and resentment to rebirth as a snake; arrogance to rebirth as a lion; conceit to rebirth as a donkey, pig, or dog; frivolousness, shamelessness and talkativeness leads to rebirth as a crow. While most of these karmic causes refer to mental states, a couple refer to specific actions. For instance, injuring, tying up, and flogging elephants, horses, cows, and oxen lead to rebirth as a spider, centipede, or scorpion. Here, it is again evident that a solely “naturalized” understanding of karmic causality in terms of disposition and character cannot explain, for instance, why shamelessness would necessarily lead to rebirth as a crow. To hold to a purely naturalistic interpretation of karma, one can only view such facts as “appeals to the popular imagination” (Keown 1996, p. 343) or as “folk tradition” (Harris 2006, p. 208). However, there is no aspect of the Commentary or any other Pali cosmological text that would suggest its cosmological facts were in any way figurative or an adaptation to appease the laity.56 Instead, in the Commentary and all other cosmological literature, this picture is seen as part and parcel of the Buddha’s omniscient knowledge.

Finally, even when taken seriously, Buddhism’s classification of animals as lower order beings is sometimes treated as distinct from its strong, ethical stance toward them (Ohnuma 2017, p. 23). As we have seen in the hells, killing, hurting, torturing, eating meat, restraining animals, and even feeding farm animals send a living being to hell. At the same time, the animal realm is a product of such unwholesome actions. This is exemplified by the scorpion who in its previous life tied up and flogged beasts of burden. Here we have a schema of animal life that makes sharp categorical distinctions and is essentially hierarchical with a power structure based on dominance, while also advancing an unyielding stance on the use and abuse of animals. In much contemporary European theory, the division and categorization of animals are “symptomatic idiocies” (Derrida 2002, p. 409), the root of violence and exploitation. Setting aside whether the exploitation of animals is primarily a metaphysical issue or one of political economy, it is at least worth raising the question whether this axiomatic connection in European thought between metaphysics and violence is actually universal or specifically a Western problem.57

6. Conclusions

I began this article connecting the secular academic neglect of Buddhist cosmology with post-Reformation Europe’s increasingly abstract conceptions of idolatry and its broader critique of medieval metaphysics. In this light, the naturalist scientific project carries with it many of the same theological concerns about the validity of metaphysics. Likewise, twentieth-century philosophers, such as Heidegger, who critiqued scientific modernism, often still did so with similar outcomes, finishing the Reformation task of critiquing metaphysical forms of thought that continued to underpin modernity.58 As a result, a naturalistic or apophatic ethos hangs over many academic portrayals of Buddhism, jettisoning the tradition’s totalizing, unscientific representations of the world.

To begin to redress this imbalance, I introduced the Light on the Six Realms Commentary, an unedited and untranslated Pali work on cosmological ethics, that informed some of the earliest philological reflections on Buddhist cosmology in the early twentieth century but which has never been edited or translated. As one of the only surviving Buddhist texts from Southeast Asia from the first half of the second millennium, the Commentary, as well as the Loka-paññatti, are an important record of the cosmological knowledge that became authoritative for early Theravāda monastic lineages in the region. The Commentary also provides an invaluable glimpse at some of the non-Theravāda cosmological material associated with other Buddhist schools, such as the Sāṃmitīyas and Sarvāstivādins, that was circulating at the time of the work’s composition. I built upon Paul Mus and Eugène Denis’s foundational philological work and explored further the relationship between the Commentary, the Pali Loka-paññatti, the Loka-prajñapti, and the Mahā-vastu. In addition, I have provided the first detailed description of a passage in the Commentary, not found in either the Loka-paññatti or Loka-prajñapti, concerning the reality of hell beings. This passage is particularly significant as, while modified through its reception in the Theravāda tradition, it appears to preserve Sarvāstivāda Buddhist arguments against the Mahāsaṅghikas or Sāṃmitīyas about the unreality of hell guardians.

In offering detailed descriptions of how the Commentary approaches personal karma, the hells, hell guardians, and animals, I highlighted differences between the Commentary and our received paradigms in the philological and philosophical study of Buddhist texts, which often filter out the kind of ideas the Commentary presents as “illogical”, “figurative”, “emotional”, “popular”, and “folk”. I suggested that this categorization of cosmological thought is essentially a legacy of post-Reformation typologies of religion and civilization, more broadly. These were mapped onto distinct cognitive modes, faculties, and modalities of being that were in turn seen as isomorphic with particular social groups. As such, Buddhist theories of karma, rebirth, and non-human forms of life could be viewed variously, and often at the same time, as lower order religious phenomena; cognitively, as a naïve metaphysics and a primarily affective form of knowledge; and sociologically, as popular beliefs primarily associated with Buddhist laity. Even as these tropes have been reevaluated, an anti-metaphysical stance continues to pervade much contemporary philosophy, often leaving little room in the representation of Buddhism for works like the Commentary, with its non-Humean causality, real, robot-run hells, and courts of aristocratic elephants. A closer engagement with such works would expand our understanding of Buddhist intellectual history and also allow us to better appreciate how the tradition has transformed in the present.