Upanishadic Ideas in the Taoist Texts

by Hari Prasad Shastri

The points of contact between classical Indian thought and Chinese thought are few. The Chinese, from the time of Yao and Shun, have been a practical and down-to-earth people, while the Brahmins of India have been more inclined to reflection, philosophical speculation, and worship of the spiritual law called Dharma. Yet some of the mystical writers of China, Lao-tsu, Lieh-tsu and Chwang-tsu, and the amplifiers of their doctrines in the Sung dynasty, speak the very language of the Upanishads and live and breathe in a region similar to that of Yajnavalkya, Shankara and others.

In China nothing definite is known about either Lao-tsu or Lieh-tsu, although we have a legendary outline of the life of Chuang-tsu. Ssuma Chien of the Han dynasty, the greatest Chinese historian of ancient China, gives us no information about these great philosophers whose works have exercised such an influence on Chinese life and thought, but some Taoist thinkers of the Tang dynasty, in which several rulers professed to be followers of Taoism, held that Lao-tsu was an Indian rishi, who came through the Himalayas riding a bull, and after spreading his doctrine in China, returned to his Himalayan retreat.

The adherents of the mystic school in China call the nameless principle the ‘Tao’. Many renderings have been given of this word, but none is comprehensive. It seems certain, however, that what Lao-tsu and his followers have called Tao is that principle, unconditioned, attributeless and ever passive, yet infinitely and eternally creative, which the Upanishads call Brahman. The conversation between Duke Han and the wheelwright, reported in the words of Chuang-tsu, shows how Tao is beyond all authority and proof. The same thing is said about Brahman or Atman, which is not to be obtained either by reasoning or by hearing. Here is a summary of the Upanishadic doctrine of Brahman in the words of the Tao Teh Ching:

The way that can be walked upon is not the eternal way;
The name which can be uttered is not the eternal name.

The Upanishads are emphatic on the merit of knowledge and the ultimate futility of rituals. Shri Shankara, in many of his writings, regards attachment to ritual to be a barrier to the realization of Atman. This also applies to the Taoist texts. Chuang-tsu performed no rites on the death of his wife. Nowhere does Lao-tsu recommend any ritual. He is critical of Confucius’ love for rites and ceremonies. Chuang-tsu is, at times, rather rude to the sage of rectitude, taunting him on his ceremonial dress and appearance.

What, then, is the means to illumination? In the Upanishads it is called ‘paravidya’—the higher learning. Even the Vedas, insofar as their subject matter concerns rituals, are called the inferior learning. A similar doctrine is found in the Tao Teh Ching, where book learning in itself is held in ridicule:

To know the Eternal is called enlightenment…
That is knowledge by which the Imperishable is reached.
This is called profound identification.

The same tendency is found in many passages in the Upanishads.

We also find that the Taoist cosmogony has similarities with Upanishadic thought. The evolution of prakriti (primordial matter or nature) started without any personal directive will, the mere proximity of purusha (the infinite, qualitiless, spiritual power) being a sufficient impetus. The undifferentiated state of prakriti which evolved into akasha (space or ‘ether’), its first product, is called Chaos by the great Lieh-tsu. These are his words:

There was in the beginning Chaos (Hun lun), an unorganized mass. It was a mingled potentiality of Form (Hsing), Pneuma (Ch’i) and substance (Chib). A great change took place in it; and there was a great starting (Tai Chi), which is the inception of Pneuma.

The Tao is dissociated from activity and is the root soul of the evolution in Chaos. The Purusha of Kapila or the Atman, as described in the Chandogya and other Upanishads, is pure intelligence, without any activity at all. Sansara or the world process in its totality is eternal. So say the Upanishads and the systems of thought founded on these great classics. Lieh-tsu seems to think so as well, for he says:

That which has life returns to that which is lifeless; that which has form returns to that which is formless. That which is lifeless does not eternally remain lifeless… Things exist because they cannot be otherwise… The soul is heavenly and the bones are earthly.

This great sage holds that life and death, existence and non-existence, creation and destruction (the return to the cause) are the inherent law of nature, and that the world is revolving on an eternal wheel.

An attitude of aloofness from the affairs of the world, at least in the period of probation, is recommended in the sacred classics. Under the influence of Shankara, Sannyasa (renunciation of worldly ties in favour of single-minded spiritual practice) became a high ideal of the aspirant.

The beautiful hills of Hang-Chow and the mountain retreats of Shangtung are studded with Taoist hermitages in which the Taoist sadhus live and practise* just as the Sannyasis live in retirement in Uttarakashi, Tapovana and Gangotri. During a visit to the Taoist monastery, Great White Cloud, in Chekiang, I noticed the same atmosphere of serenity, purity and love that I had felt in Uttarakashi and Rishikesha.

According to Manu, Vyasa and Bhishma, the Dharma, the higher ethical code, differs according to time, place and the stage of one’s personal spiritual evolution. The ethics of a householder are different from the ethics of a monk or a student. Let us hear what Chuang-tsu has to say on this subject:

What is good for me is not necessarily good for others, and vice versa. The stork has long legs, but it would surely resent any human interference with their length; the duck, on the other hand, has short legs, but it would not be thankful for an artificial improvement on their stubbiness. Hsi Shih was a beautiful woman, but when her features were reflected in the water, the fish would have been frightened away.

The highest ethical conduct, according to the Gita, is to live detached from the mind and the buddhi, established in the serenity of the Empire of Atman. Chuang-tsu is convinced of the presence of Tao in all, and the reason why we confuse what is right with what is wrong is that by identifying ourselves with matter, we prevent the natural workings of the Tao in us.

Be independent of subjective ignorance and individual egoism. Discover the universal Tao in your being, and all will be well with us… Let us make our appeal to the infiniteness of Tao and pitch our tents permanently there.

‘There is no happiness in the finite existence,’ says the Chandogya Upanishad.

Chuang-tsu opposes the dualism of Yin and Yang of the Confucian school. The Taoist writers, like the teachers of the Vedanta, are strict monists. Kwan-yin-tze, the greatest of the Sung dynasty Taoist scholars, says:

Heaven and earth and all things contained therein are no more than my essence, my spirit. There is nothing that dies; there is nothing that is born… To the wise there is one mind, one substance, one reason; and these three are conceived in their oneness. Therefore they do not repress the not-one with the one, nor do they injure the one with the not-one.

Many passages in the writings of this great Taoist scholar read like verses of the Bhagavad Gita:

All things change but the essence pervading them is changeless. The wise know this oneness of things and are never disturbed by outward signs…

The wise, abiding in the eternality of things, think of this changeless aspect and remain undisturbed.

Just as nirvana or moksha (release) is the ideal of the non-dual aspirants, so Wu-Wei is the ideal of the Taoists. Wu-Wei and Nirvana are similar conceptions. Both condemn assertion of egoism; both advocate a life of peace and at-one-ment with others. On Wu-Wei, which has much in common with the ideal of the sthita-prajna (one established in Wisdom) as given in the second chapter of the Gita, Lao-tsu speaks as follows:

Therefore the sage conducts affairs with non-assertion; he practises the doctrine of silence. All things are working, and he does not refuse to work with them… He who asserts is defeated; he who seizes suffers loss. The sage asserts not; therefore he is not defeated… The sage desires not-desiring, prizes not the treasure that is unobtainable, learns not-learning, returns to what the masses have passed by, and thereby he assists in the natural development of all things, but he never dares to assert himself.

In the non-dual texts the need for a Guru is emphasised. In the Gita Shri Krishna says: Know That, through service of the teacher.’ Taoist regard for the Teacher is well-known to those who have lived in a Taoist monastery. Lieh-tsu’s instructions on the methods of attaining Wu-Wei give high importance to proximity to the Teacher and loving service of him.

* The writer lived in China from 1919 to 1928