Tuesday, 9 December 2014

The Wolf’s Footprints: Indian Materialism in Perspective - PART I

An Annotated Conversation with Ramkrishna Bhattacharya

Krishna Del Toso

It was the 2009 when by chance I ran into a book just issued, whose author I already knew by name and reputation, since few years before - while I was studying the chapter devoted to the exposition of the Cārvāka/Lokāyata philosophy in Sayāṇa-Mādhava’s Sarvadarśanasaṃgraha - I had the occasion of reading with much delight one of his excellent articles published in the Journal of Indian Philosophy. This paper gathered a new collection of the extant fragments on Materialism, survived to the heedlessness of time and the - so to speak - forgetfulness of the partisans of the non-materialistic Indian philosophies.

The author was Ramkrishna Bhattacharya. I remember that when his 2009 book, Studies on the Cārvāka/Lokāyata, was delivered by the postman at my home in September of the same year, I read it in one breath. Going through its pages, one of the things that I discovered was that Ramkrishna Bhattacharya has been the pupil, among others, of Debiprasad Chattopadhyaya, the great Bengali scholar that devoted his life to the study of Indian Materialism and scientific thought, and of Mrinal Kanti Gangopadhyaya, colleague and collaborator of the former. The more my eyes ran the lines of the book, the more interest and curiosity grew in me for Bhattacharya’s ideas and perspectives on the Cārvāka/Lokāyata, mainly for two reasons. Firstly, because all the acquaintance I had of this school of thought – still quite neglected in the West – at this time was based exactly on the works of Chattopadhyaya and Gangopadhyaya (which represented, before Bhattacharya’s book, the fundamental and almost sole tools I had at my disposal for shedding a bit of light on some passages of Sayāṇa-Mādhava’s text). Secondly, because my very first impression was that Bhattacharya’s book deepened the study on and of Indian Materialism far beyond what his teachers have been able to do in their essays, letting something new emerge from the ancient sources and the modern debate. Since almost every page of Studies on the Cārvāka/Lokāyata aroused in me lots of questions and interrogatives, at a certain point I felt the need to contact personally Ramkrishna Bhattacharya for discussing and trying to understand with his help this or that subject, matter or aspect of the Cārvāka/Lokāyata philosophy that I considered problematic or dubious. This was a lucky opportunity for me because, although we never met in person, I found in Ramkrishna Bhattacharya a gentle, willing man and a strict scholar, whose sincere intention was, and is, to outline and improve a horizon of shared knowledge. Thus, day after day, email after email, since my first letter to him, our dialogue on the Cārvāka/Lokāyata has never stopped, and still continues.

In what follows, the reader will find nothing but an aperçue of my questions and Bhattacharya’s answers that we exchanged during the year 2010.

*  *  *

Krishna Del Toso

Dear Professor Bhattacharya,[1] let me begin by thanking you very much for having accepted this interview, to which I would like to give – if you agree – the structure of a conversation, and in which we will try to speak about some subjects contained in, or inspired by, your last book on Indian Materialism Studies on the Cārvāka/Lokāyata, recently published by the Società Editrice Fiorentina.[2] Studies on the Cārvāka/Lokāyata is a collection of several articles that you have written during the last fourteen years, minimally re-adapted in order to be consistently put together in a single work. The arguments dealt with there are several: one can indeed read about the origins of Materialism in India, about the principal exponents of Cārvāka/Lokāyata and about some fundamental philosophical doctrines of this school. Moreover, many fragments of Cārvāka/Lokāyata works are accurately analyzed, and so on. But, when one goes through the book, one can find, as you say in the Preface, a precise «line of argument».[3] To understand the ‘plot’ of the work, could you explain to us in which way does this «line of argument» develop, and why have you opted for exactly this particular ‘line’?

Ramkrishna Bhattacharya

The ‘plot’ of the work, as you put it, developed in course of time. I started with only one hypothesis: the Cārvākas/Lokāyatikas have been thoroughly misrepresented by almost all contributors to, or writers of, encyclopedias and handbooks, and historians of Indian philosophy (not to speak of the authors of college and university text books and popularisers). The same has been the fate of Epicurus in Europe. Their Hedonism was not synonymous with ‘eat, drink, and be merry’ kind of philosophy of life. The few available extracts from the commentaries on the lost Cārvākasūtras, the basic text, convinced me that the Cārvākas preached a more serious view of life, for they took the epistemological and ontological issues very seriously. Then I found that there were several materialist approaches beside the Cārvāka/Lokāyata which did not embrace sensual enjoyment at all; on the other hand, Ajita Kesakambala, the earliest materialist in India known to us, had embraced an austere way of living. This emboldened me to controvert Erich Frauwallner’s view regarding the courtly origin of Materialism in India.[4] All this led to the ‘line of argument’ I went on developing. I took the Cārvāka/Lokāyata as a system of philosophy which grew, not unlike other orthodox (Vaidik) systems, having a basic work of aphorisms (the mūla-text) which in its turn generated a number of commentaries, independent of one another, differing on some matters of detail but adhering to the basic doctrine of the primacy of perception. Saper vedere («To know is to see»), as Leonardo Da Vinci said.
As you can understand, I do not agree with Sebastiano Timpanaro, the Italian Marxist philosopher, that Hedonism and pessimism are two basic ingredients of Materialism.[5] As to Hedonism, the Cārvāka/Lokāyata does advise yāvaj jīvaṃ sukhaṃ jīvet («Live happily as long as you live») but, as Jayantabhaṭṭa has rightly said, it is not a prescription since all humans follow this in practice. I have dealt with these matters in my book. To think of such expert logicians such as Purandara, Aviddhakarṇa and Udbhaṭa Bhaṭṭa as wallowing in purely sensual enjoyment boggles the mind. As Horace had slandered Epicurus in one of his Epistles,[6] so have the enemies of the Cārvāka/Lokāyata. Incidentally, as to Hedonism, what is more hedonistic than Kṛṣṇa’s assurance to Arjuna in Bhagavadgīta 2.37: hato vā prāpsyasi (prāpsyase) svargaṃ jitvā vā bhokṣyase mahīm, «If slain, you attain heaven; if victorious, you enjoy the earth»? Nothing to lose either way.

Krishna Del Toso:

And as far as pessimism is concerned?

Ramkrishna Bhattacharya:

As to pessimism, the Cārvāka/Lokāyata does not betray any inclination to it, nor does it mention optimism. However, it considers life worth living, and living happily. So what Timpanaro says in connection with Giacomo Leopardi does not apply to the Cārvāka/Lokāyata.
Thus, this in brief is my ‘line of argument’.

Krishna Del Toso

Now, a second preliminary question pertains of course to what exactly promped you to undertake the study of Indian Materialism. Could you tell us what or who has been fundamental, on the one hand, for this decision and, on the other hand, for your ‘step by step’ deepening into the philosophy of Cārvāka/Lokāyata? This will also help us to understand the nature of your reference background, which you have moved from in order to develop your research.

Ramkrishna Bhattacharya:

The answer will be somewhat autobiographical.

Krishna Del Toso

Yes, of course.

Ramkrishna Bhattacharya:

I started studying Marxism-Leninism in my precocious adolescent days. I read a primer on Marxist philosophy in Bangla, my mother tongue, written by Saroja Ācārya.[7] My first initiation to the Cārvāka/Lokāyata was from this work. Before that, all I knew about Cārvākas was that they had preached the doctrine of ṛṇaṃ kṛtvā ghṛtaṃ pibet («Eat ghee, clarified butter, even if you run into debts»).[8] This was the sum and substance of the Cārvāka/Lokāyata known to almost all educated Indians. After reading Acharya’s chapter on the Cārvāka/Lokāyata, I got interested in studying this system of philosophy in more details. Even prior to that I had read some small volumes in Bangla called Jānbār Kathā (Things to know), meant for schoolchildren, edited by Debiprasad Chattopadhyaya. He had planned a sort of Book of Knowledge, one of which was on philosophy. Chattopadhyaya was later known as the author of Lokāyata and other works on the history of science and technology in India. However, he was a very persuasive writer in Bangla. He began his career as a poet and produced a number of fictions for young readers. The lucidity of his style must have stemmed from his earlier works of children’s literature. Thus Chattopadhyaya and Acharya led me to the study of the Cārvāka/Lokāyata.
However, I did not pursue the matter till much later.

Krishna Del Toso

So when did your scientific work on Cārvāka/Lokāyata begin?

Ramkrishna Bhattacharya:

I started studying the Cārvāka/Lokāyata in right earnest in 1980 when I had some leisure. First I wrote a few articles in Bangla which were received rather well. Then, I started corresponding with Eli Franco (more of him later), and encouraged by him I ventured to write for a wider readership, and so side by side began to publish in English. I was by then convinced that the Cārvāka/Lokāyata was a much misunderstood and hence unjustly maligned system of philosophy. It deserved to be shown, by employing the method of textual criticism, that the verse quoted by Sāyaṇa-Mādhava (Mādhavācārya) that spoke of eating ghee was a distortion of the original verse attributed to the Cārvākas. The paper appeared in 1996[9] and was appreciated by some scholars, not all of them sympathetic to Materialism.

I had continued to correspond with Franco, when he was in Australia and then in Europe (Austria and Germany). Though he had his own views about Jayarāśi with which I did not agree, we became sort of pen-friends (I haven’t met him to date) and then I came to know his wife, Karin Preisendanz (I met her only twice when she visited Kolkata, my home city). Both of them are scholars per excellence and helped me a lot to locate sources that are not easily available in Kolkata or India as a whole. Exchange of off-prints proved to be extremely useful.

This is how, from a budding Marxist materialist I became an ardent student of Indian Materialism. I was intrigued to find that there were more than one materialist view prevalent in India before we come to know of the aphorisms of the Cārvāka/Lokāyata. Hence I went on digging and unearthed several such examples.

Krishna Del Toso

Your last sentence lends itself to the following question. Taking into account the title of your book: Studies on the Cārvāka/Lokāyata, the presence of a slash (/) between the two words ‘Cārvāka’ and ‘Lokāyata’ led me to infer exactly that, within a same general framework, i.e., within the general cultural horizon represented by Materialism, there exists at least one – but probably more than one – distinction between Cārvāka and Lokāyata. Could you explain to us in what does this difference in identity consist?

Ramkrishna Bhattacharya:

In my opinion ‘Cārvāka’ would be the right name. I have explained the reason in the introductory part of Cārvāka Fragments: A New Collection in my book.[10] At the same time we have to keep in mind that a large number of ancient Indian philosophers and modern historians of philosophy, etc. refer to the same system as Lokāyata. In fact Debiprasad Chattopadhyaya and Mrinal Kanti Gangopadhyaya (both of them my mentors since 1980) had set the precedence by calling their work, Cārvāka/Lokāyata: An Anthology of Source Materials and Some Recent Studies.[11] But there is a snag. The word Lokāyata appears earlier than Cārvāka in Buddhist works (both Pāli and Sanskrit) but in a different sense: the science of disputation. Most probably Lokāyata in the Kauṭilīya Arthaśāstra also means the same.[12] Some scholars have failed to distinguish between the two meanings of Lokāyata and in the translation of Buddhist texts they translated Lokāyata as ‘Materialism’, which is wrong and misleading. Hence I prefer to write Cārvāka/Lokāyata.

Krishna Del Toso

You are pointing out that there exists at least a – so to speak – historical and/or grammatical difference between the two terms. What can we say about the history of the use of the two words ‘Cārvāka’ and ‘Lokāyata’?

Ramkrishna Bhattacharya:

As to the history of the use of the two words, Cārvāka as the name of a philosophical system first appears in Haribhadra’s Ṣaḍdarśanasamuccaya,[13] verse 85d, and in Kamalaśīla’s Tattvasaṅgrahapañjikā,[14] gloss on verse 1885, while Śāntarakṣita in his Tattvasaṅgraha, Ch. 22, calls it Lokāyata as does Śaṅkarācārya in his commentary on the Brahmasūtra and elsewhere. So you see both the names were current right from the eighth century CE. There are other names too: dehātmavāda, bhūtacaitanyavāda, bārhaspatyamata, etc. More intriguingly, we have allusions to one paurandaraṃ sūtraṃ as also to a pauraṃdariya vitti (paurandarīyavṛtti).[15] Of course Cārvāka is the name of a demon in the Mahābhārata.[16] It may be presumed that the Indian materialist philosophers adopted his name as a kind of nickname. Purandara, as quoted by Kamalaśīla, refers to the Cārvākas (cārvākaiḥ). You will find many such examples of using this name in several Brahminical, Buddhist, and Jain works.[17]
Thus both Cārvāka and Lokāyata became a sort of ‘brand name’, meaning Materialism in general. Franco once told me in a personal communication[18] that the mūla text of the Cārvākas «must have been composed before Dignāga’s time (480-540)». I don’t know whether he is right. The Maṇimēkalai, a Tamil Buddhist work composed between the third century and the seventh century CE, mentions both Lokāyata and bhūtavāda side by side.[19] There had been materialist thinkers in India right from the Buddha’s time – Ajita Kesakambala, for example –, or even before. Dignāga might have known some such thinkers, not necessarily a Cārvāka. Kambalāśvatara (another nickname), Purandara and Aviddhakarṇa (yet another nickname) as well as some unnamed commentators are mentioned by Kamalaśīla and so they must have flourished in or before the eighth century. After them we have Udbhaṭa, an odd kind of commentator who uses the Cārvāka aphorisms as a peg to hang his own ideas on. Cakradhara mentions Bhāvivikta as a cirantana cārvāka, «old or traditional Cārvāka philosopher».[20] So he must have been a contemporary of Kambalāśvatara and others or might have flourished even earlier.

That is all I can say in brief about the history of the two words, Cārvāka and Lokāyata.

Krishna Del Toso

You have just underlined (and you explain very well this point in the first chapter of your book),[21] that the philosophy of Ajita Kesakambala is actually materialistic and not, as is generally supposed by the most part of scholars, nihilistic. On the other hand, you add also that a real nihilist was Jayarāśi, the author of the Tattvopaplavasiṃha. As is well-known, portions of this text has been translated and studied by Eli Franco, who upholds that Jayarāśi was, rather, a sceptic.[22] Now, in your book you say that you do not agree with this interpretation. On the basis of what should we consider Jayarāśi a nihilist rather than a sceptic?

Ramkrishna Bhattacharya:

That Jayarāśi was a nihilist is amply clear from the last sentence of his book: tad evam upapluteṣv eva tattveṣu avicāritaramaṇīyāḥ sarve vyavahārā ghaṭanta iti («When all the principles are upset then all [human] practice are to be understood as happening without any judgement»). Unlike Nāgārjuna or Śrīharṣa, Jayarāśi had no system of philosophy either to establish or to uphold. In his case it was all refutation, and refutation for refutation’s sake. The only principle he sets out to upset, is the validity of all known instruments of cognition, such as perception, inference, word, etc. Mrinal Kanti Gangopadhyaya (whom Debiprasad Chattopadhyaya always mentioned as ‘my young friend and teacher’) has shown, in his illuminating Introduction to a Bangla translation of the Tattvopaplavasiṃha (chapter 1) by Dilip Kumar Mohanta,[23] that Jayarāśi’s position is diametrically opposite to Vātsyāyana’s: the latter is intent on establishing the principle of four prakāras, namely pramāṇa, pramātā, prameya and pramiti. Once pramāṇa is established, the other three are automatically accepted (see Vātsyāyana’s Introduction to his commentary on the Nyāyasūtras).[24] Jayarāśi, on the other hand, not only questions (as a sceptic does) but seeks to upset the very concept of pramāṇa itself. In this sense he was a nihilist per excellence. In fact Gangopadhyaya has rightly said that Jayarāśi was affiliated neither to the Cārvāka/Lokāyata nor to śūnyavāda or māyāvāda: he had a doctrine of his own, namely, tattvopaplavavāda. As there are māyāvāda, vijñānavāda, śūnyavāda etc., so is tattvopaplavavāda, a particular type of approach or philosophy. His Jain opponents mentioned this along with other vādas.

Krishna Del Toso

But a possible counterargument to your position could be that Jayarāśi in his text refers to Bṛhaspati, who is supposed to have been the compiler of the Cārvākasūtras, and calls him bhagavān bṛhaspatiḥ, that is, «Venerable Bṛhaspati». By relying to this reference, one could infer that Jayarāśi was a materialist.[25]

Ramkrishna Bhattacharya:

Jayarāśi’s reference to Bṛhaspati as bhagavān does not confirm his affiliation to Bṛhaspati’s system. Śrīharṣa too uses the same term, bhagavān suraguru. Would that make Śrīharṣa a Cārvāka?

I may also mention the fact that Jayarāśi is prized more in Europe and Japan than in India. He has been criticized and presented everywhere in the Jain works as a tattvopaplavavādin, never as a Cārvāka. Those who have criticized him have also sought to refute the Cārvāka/Lokāyata. Erich Frauwallner too never considered the Tattvopaplavasiṃha to be a Cārvāka work.[26]

Franco’s translation of, and notes on, the Tattvopaplavasiṃha are indeed excellent, but his view of Jayarāśi as a kind of Lokāyatika and his polemics against Chattopadhyaya in the Preface to the second edition of his book Perception, Knowledge and Disbelief have not found favour even in the West.[27] Karel Werner in his review of this edition proposes to steer a middle way between Chattopadhyaya and Franco.[28] Earlier still, Walter Ruben and K.K. Dixit pointed out many a flaw in assuming Jayarāśi as a Cārvāka. Their articles have been reprinted in Cārvāka/Lokāyata.[29] Chattopadhyaya was too modest to include his views on the Tattvopaplavasiṃha in this volume. He had in fact written two articles in Bangla in 1963, refuting the notion that Tattvopaplavasiṃha was a materialist philosophical text (as Arthur Llewellyn Basham had said in his The Wonder That Was India).[30] Chattopadhyaya reiterated his opposition to this misconception in his populariser Indian Philosophy[31] and In Defence of Materialism in Ancient India.[32] Franco was apparently unaware of Basham’s claim and therefore unhesitatingly declared in the preface to the second edition of his Perception, Knowledge and Disbelief that «no one ever claimed that Jayarāśi was a materialist».[33]

Basham was not alone in making this regrettable mistake. Those who work on the basis of secondary sources have all followed suit and represented the Tattvopaplavasiṃha as a Cārvāka materialist work. They even ignore the fact that Franco, along with Sanghvi and Parikh, labels him cautiously as representing «a minority (ekadeśa) within the Lokāyata school»[34] and admits that «Jayarāśi rejected some of the traditional Lokāyata doctrines and interpreted some of the sūtras of Bṛhaspati as reflecting opinions which are not Bṛhaspati’s own».[35] The very notion of a non-materialist Lokayata as proposed by Sanghvi and others, is alien to the Indian philosophical scenario. The Cārvāka/Lokāyata has been referred to by all ancient and medieval philosophers in India as a materialist system, no one speaks of such a non-materialist school. Franco once told me in a letter[36] that if I can accept both Buddhist idealists and Buddhist realists, why can’t I accept the sceptic Lokāyatikas and materialist Lokāyatikas? This is inference by analogy which is always doubtful.

In spite of so many dissenting voices, the false notion that the Tattvopaplavasiṃha is a Cārvāka work persists in the form that it is the only full-length book on Indian Materialism! Franco did not claim so, but who cares? In some universities the Tattvopaplavasiṃha is the prescribed text for studying the Cārvāka/Lokāyata system! Recently an Indian referee advised me to consult the Tattvopaplavasiṃha in connection with my paper on humanism and the Cārvāka/Lokāyata![37] Can folly go any further?

Krishna Del Toso

Well, dear professor, on the basis of these arguments it is undoubtedly clear that the Tattvopaplavasiṃha is not to be considered a Cārvāka work. Taken this for granted, the elimination of the Tattvopaplavasiṃha from the list of the Cārvāka/Lokayata texts makes us face up to the serious problem of the lack of direct sources of Indian Materialism. Indeed, the original sūtras, commentaries and other ancillary works written by the exponents of Cārvāka/Lokāyata schools unfortunately have not reached us. Or, the problem could be put in a more optimistic way – which I guess to be better in line with your views –, by saying that we do not still have found out manuscripts of these texts somewhere in temples or libraries or elsewhere. Anyway, all that we can make use of at present is some quotation reported in writings compiled by exponents of other philosophical traditions, such as Buddhists, Jains, Vaidikas, etc. Now, as regards this paucity of sources at our disposal, a first problem to be tackled concerns obviously why and when the texts of Indian Materialism have stopped circulating. This issue acquires even more substance when we consider that the materialistic perspectives have been seriously discussed on and on in many philosophical works – some of which were written also after the, as it were, decline of Materialism – like for instance Sayāṇa-Mādhava’s Sarvadarśanasaṃgraha, Jayantabhaṭṭa’s Nyāyamañjari or Vādidevasūri’s Syādvādaratnākara, and so on.

Ramkrishna Bhattacharya:

It is an interesting question. As for Sāyaṇa-Mādhava you are right: the Cārvāka mūla text and its commentaries were not available to him, as all the Cārvāka/Lokāyata works were lost before the fourteenth century CE. But Kamalaśīla apparently possessed the commentaries of Purandara and Aviddhakarṇa and some unnamed commentators. Jayantabhaṭṭa, Cakradhara and Vādidevasūri must have had a copy of Udbhaṭabhaṭṭa’s commentary on the Cārvākasūtras, for they either quote or paraphrase longish extracts from it. Aviddhakarṇa’s commentary was known to Karṇakagomin too. Our forefathers cultivated memorising to an amazing degree, but it was mostly confined to the Vedic texts. Philosophers must have resorted to the manuscripts of their opponents and quoted from them, not always from memory.
Materialism, as I have said before, always had a living presence in India right from the ancient times and have continued to be so in our own days. As Debiprasad Chattopadhyaya shows in his Science and Society in Ancient India,[38] the philosophical basis of the two old medical compilations, the Carakasaṃhitā and the Suśrutasaṃhitā, was out-and-out materialistic. Their Materialism, however, was not of the Cārvāka kind: they believed in five primordial elements instead of four. Space, ākāśa or vyoma, is not tangible to the senses yet it was admitted by them. Everything on earth, they believed, was composed of these five primordial elements. Later writers often use the term, cārvākaikadeśin, meaning «some sort of Cārvāka», that is, materialists other than a Cārvāka. Although the term is often employed to disguise the writers’ ignorance of who are meant by the author of the original text, sometimes they are right. There were other materialists besides the Cārvākas. The source of such other proto-materialists can be traced back to the Śvetāśvatara Upaniṣad. In the very second verse of the work, svabhāva (own being) and bhūtāni (elements) are mentioned as rivals of the creator of the universe. There are several such references in the Mahābhārata, Jain canonical works and Buddhist Sanskrit works, and the Tamil epic Maṇimēkalai. The idea of pañcabhūta (five elements) has been current through the ages. Idealist and fideist philosophers had to reckon with materialist views even after the works of the Cārvākas were lost. Materialism is not only as old as philosophy but also lokeṣu āyata, extended among the people in this world!



[1] Ramkrishna Bhattacharya was born in Kolkata (Calcutta) in 1947. Educated at the Scottish Church Collegiate School, Vidyasagar College and the University of Calcutta. Graduated with Honours in English (1966); M.A. (1968) and Ph.D. (1986). Retired on 31.12.2007 as Reader, Department of English, Anandamohan College (Kolkata), and Guest Lecturer, Post-graduate Faculty of English, University of Calcutta. He acts as resource person in refresher courses on various disciplines (Bangla, English, Sanskrit, Political Science, etc.) organized by several universities. He is Emeritus Fellow in English (2009-2011), University Grants Commission, New Delhi, Fellow at Pavlov Institute of Kolkata and has been Visiting Professor of the Indian Council of Philosophical Research (2009-2010), New Delhi. Author of nineteen books and more than one hundred thirty research papers, he regularly participates in national seminars and international conferences, workshops and across-the-board discussions. He writes articles and reviews in both scholarly journals and other periodicals on literature (Indian and European), text-criticism (Bangla and Sanskrit), history of ideas, and philosophy (specially on the Cārvāka/Lokāyata system, Materialism and Rationalism). Among his recent books, see References: Bhattacharya (2005a), (2009a), (2010a), (2010b), (2010c), (2011a), (2011b), (2011c), (2012).
[2] Bhattacharya (2009b).
[3] Bhattacharya (2009b: 9).
[4] Frauwallner (1956).
[5] Timpanaro (1975: 18 note 1, 66).
[6] Epistle 1.4 (ad Albium Tibullum), line 16. See Wilkins (1888: 12).
[7] Ācārya (1987, first published in 1943).
[8] Bhattacharya (2009b: 201-5).
[9] Bhattacharya (1996). Reprinted in Bhattacharya (2009b: 201-5).
[10] See Bhattacharya (2009b: 76-7). This paper was originally published: Bhattacharya (2002). Reprinted Bhattacharya (2009b: 69-104).
[11] Chattopadhyaya, Gangopadhyaya (1990).
[12] Bhattacharya (2009b: 131-5).
[13] Collection of Six Philosophies.
[14] Notes on the Tattvasaṅgraha (Assemblage of Philosophical Principles).
[15] Bhattacharya (2009b: 109-11).
[16] See for instance Śāntiparva XXXIX.
[17] Bhattacharya (2009b: 80-3).
[18] Hamburg, 13.04.1997.
[19] Bhattacharya (2009b: 39).
[20] Bhattacharya (2009b: 81, 88).
[21] Bhattacharya (2009b: 27-9). This paper was originally published: Bhattacharya (1997). Reprinted as ‘Origin of Materialism in India: Royal or Popular?’, in Bhattacharya (2009b: 21-32).
[22] Franco (1994).
[23] Mohanta (1998: 1-16).
[24] Jhā (1999: 1-3).
[25] Franco (1994: 228).
[26] Frauwallner (1956.2: 257).
[27] The second edition: Delhi 1994.
[28] Werner (1995).
[29] Chattopadhyaya, Gangopadhyaya (1990: 505-19 [Ruben], 520-30 [Dixit]).
[30] Basham (1954: 297).
[31] Chattopadhyaya (1964: 22-3 note 4).
[32] Chattopadhyaya (1989: 39-40).
[33] Franco (1994: XII-XIII).
[34] Franco (1994: 14).
[35] Franco (1994: 46).
[36] Hamburg, 20.07.1997.
[37] ‘Humanist Thought in Lokayata’ (in press).
[38] Chattopadhyaya (1977).




This interview was first published in Annali, (Volume No.71), publication of Università degli studi di Napoli.

Reproduced with the permission of Krishna Del Toso & Ramkrishna Bhattacharya

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