During the period August-November 1918 Sri Aurobindo
wrote a series of four articles under the title The Renaissance in India. These had first appeared in his monthly Arya which in 1920 were issued in the
form of a book. The book was reissued on a number of occasions later on. In the
Birth Centenary edition it appears in The
Foundations of Indian Culture as volume 14. This new birth in India is
intimately connected with the eternal values of truth for which the country
stands, the basis of Sanatan Dharma, the religion perfected
and developed through the Rishis, saints and Avatars now going forth to do the
divine work among the nations—as Sri Aurobindo spoke at Uttarpara in 1909. In
the Renaissance he sees a new birth
for
Spirituality is indeed the master-key of the Indian
mind; the sense of the infinite is native to it. India saw from the beginning,—and,
even in her ages of reason and her age of increasing ignorance, she never lost
hold of the insight,—that life cannot be rightly seen in the sole light, cannot
be perfectly lived in the sole power of its externalities. She was alive to the
greatness of material laws and forces; she had a keen eye for the importance of
the physical sciences; she knew how to organise the arts of ordinary life. But
she saw that the physical does not get its full sense until it stands in right
relation to the supra-physical; she saw that the complexity of the universe
could not be explained in the present terms of man or seen by his superficial
sight, that there were other powers behind, other powers within man himself of
which he is normally unaware, that he is conscious only of a small part of
himself, that the invisible always surrounds the visible, the suprasensible the
sensible, even as infinity always surrounds the finite. She saw too that man
has the power of exceeding himself, of becoming himself more entirely and
profoundly than he is,—truths which have only recently begun to be seen in
Europe and seem even now too great for its common intelligence. She saw the
myriad gods beyond man, God beyond the gods, and beyond God his own ineffable
eternity; she saw that there were ranges of life beyond our life, ranges of
mind beyond our present mind and above these she saw the splendours of the
spirit. Then with that calm audacity of her intuition which knew no fear or
littleness and shrank from no act whether of spiritual or intellectual, ethical
or vital courage, she declared that there was none of these things which man
could not attain if he trained his will and knowledge; he could conquer these
ranges of mind, become the spirit, become a god, become one with God, become
the ineffable Brahman. And with the logical practicality and sense of science
and organised method which distinguished her mentality, she set forth
immediately to find out the way. Hence from long ages of this insight and
practice there was ingrained in her spirituality, her powerful psychic
tendency, her great yearning to grapple with the infinite and possess it, her
ineradicable religious sense, her idealism, her Yoga, the constant turn of her
art and her philosophy.
But this was not and could not be her whole mentality,
her entire spirit; spirituality itself does not flourish on earth in the void,
even as our mountain-tops do not rise like those of an enchantment of dream out
of the clouds without a base. …
The power of the ancient Indian spirit was a strong
intellectuality, at once austere arid rich, robust and minute, powerful and
delicate, massive in principle and curious in detail. Its chief impulse was
that of order and arrangement, but an order founded upon a seeking for the
inner law and truth of things and having in view always the possibility of
conscientious practice.
Indeed without this opulent vitality and opulent
intellectuality
The ideals of the Indian mind have included the height
of self-assertion of the human spirit and its thirst of independence and
mastery and possession and the height also of its self-abnegation, dependence
and submission and self-giving. In life the ideal of opulent living and the
ideal of poverty were carried to the extreme of regal splendour and the extreme
of satisfied nudity. Its intuitions were sufficiently clear and courageous not
to be blinded by its own most cherished ideas and fixed habits of life. If it
was obliged to stereotype caste as the symbol of its social order, it never
quite forgot, as the caste-spirit is apt to forget, that the human soul and the
human mind are beyond caste. For it had seen in the lowest human being the
Godhead, Narayana. It emphasised distinctions only to turn upon them and deny
all distinctions. If all its political needs and circumstances compelled it at
last to exaggerate the monarchical principle and declare the divinity of the king
and to abolish its earlier republican city states and independent federations
as too favourable to the centrifugal tendency, if therefore it could not
develop democracy, yet it had the democratic idea, applied it in the village,
in council and municipality, within the caste, was the first to assert a
divinity in the people and could cry to the monarch at the height of his power,
"O king, what art thou but the head servant of the demos ?" Its idea
of the golden age was a free spiritual anarchism…
But this spiritual tendency does not shoot upward only
to the abstract, the hidden and the intangible; it casts its rays downward and
outward to embrace the multiplicities of thought and the richness of life.
Therefore the second long epoch of
One thing seems at any rate certain, that the spiritual
motive will be in the future of
All great movements of life in
But what are likely to be the great constructive ideas
and the great decisive instruments which this spirituality will take to deal
with and govern life, is as yet obscure, because the thought of this new
In poetry, literature, art, science there have, on the
contrary, been definite beginnings.
Indian society is in a still more chaotic stage; for
the old forms are crumbling away under the pressure of the environment, their
spirit and reality are more and more passing out of them, but the facade
persists by the force of inertia of thought and will and the remaining
attachment of a long association, while the new is still powerless to be born.
There is much of slow and often hardly perceptible destruction, a dull
preservation effective only by immobility, no possibility yet of sound
reconstruction. We have had a loud proclaiming,—only where supported by
religion, as in the reforming Samajas, any strong effectuation,—of a movement
of social change, appealing sometimes crudely to Western exemplars and ideals,
sometimes to the genius or the pattern of ancient times; but it has quite failed
to carry the people, because it could not get at their spirit and itself
lacked, with the exceptions noted, in robust sincerity. We have had too a revival
of orthodox conservatism, more academic and sentimental than profound in its
impulse or in touch with the great facts and forces of life. We have now in
emergence an increasing sense of the necessity of a renovation of social ideas
and expressive forms by the spirit of the nation awaking to the deeper yet
unexpressed implications of its own culture, but as yet no sufficient will or
means of execution. It is probable that only with the beginning of a freer
national life will the powers of the renaissance take effective hold of the
social mind and action of the awakened people.
The renaissance thus determining itself, but not yet finally determined, if it
is to be what the name implies, a rebirth of the soul of India into a new body
of energy, a new form of its innate and ancient spirit, prajñã purãni, must insist much more finally and integrally
than it has as yet done on its spiritual turn, on the greater and greater
action of the spiritual motive in every sphere of our living. But here we are
still liable to be met by the remnants of a misunderstanding or a refusal to
understand,—it is something of both,—which was perhaps to a little extent
justified by certain ascetic or religionist exaggeration, a distrust which is
accentuated by a recoil from the excessive other-worldliness that has marked
certain developments of the Indian mind and life, but yet is not justified,
because it misses the true point at issue. Thus we are sometimes asked what on
earth we mean by spirituality in art and poetry or in political and social life...
We have here really an echo of the European idea, now of sufficiently long
standing, that religion and spirituality on the one side and intellectual
activity and practical life on the other are two entirely different things and
have each to be pursued on its own entirely separate lines and in obedience to
its own entirely separate principles… We must, therefore, try to make clear
what it is we mean.
But
first let us say what we do not mean by this ideal. Clearly, it does not
signify that we shall regard earthly life as a temporal vanity, try to become
all of us as soon as possible monastic ascetics, frame our social life into a
preparation for the monastery or cavern or mountain-top or make of it a static
life without any great progressive ideals but only some aim which has nothing
to do with earth or the collective advance of the human race. That may have
been for some time a tendency of the Indian mind, but it was never the whole
tendency. Nor does spirituality mean the moulding of the whole type of the
national being to suit the limited dogmas, forms, tenets of a particular
religion, as was often enough attempted by the old societies, an idea which
still persists in many minds by the power of old mental habit and association;
clearly, such an attempt would be impossible, even if it were desirable, in a
country full of the most diverse religious opinions and harbouring too three
such distinct general forms as Hinduism, Islam and Christianity, to say nothing
of the numerous special forms to which each of these has given birth.
Spirituality is much wider than any particular religion, and in the larger
ideas of it that are now coming on us even the greatest religion becomes no
more than a broad sect or branch of the one universal religion; by which we
shall understand in the future man's seeking for the eternal, the divine, the
greater self, the source of unity and his attempt to arrive at some equation,
some increasing approximation of the values of human life with the eternal and
the divine values.
Nor do we mean the exclusion of anything whatsoever
from our scope, of any of the great aims of human life, any of the great
problems of our modem world, any form of human activity, any general or
inherent impulse or characteristic means of the desire of the soul of man for
development, expansion, in- creasing vigour and joy, light, power, perfection.
Spirit without mind, spirit without body is not the type of man, therefore a
human spirituality must not belittle the mind, life or body or hold them of
small account; it will rather hold them of high account of immense importance,
precisely because they are the conditions and instruments of the life of the
spirit in man. The ancient Indian culture attached quite as much value to the
soundness, growth and strength of the mind, life and body as the old Hellenic
or the modern scientific thought, although for a different end and a greater
motive… Spirituality is not necessarily exclusive; it can be and in its
fullness must be all-inclusive.
But still there is a great difference between the
spiritual and the purely material and mental view of existence. The spiritual
view holds that the mind, life, body are man's means and not his aims and even
that they are not his last and highest means; it sees them as his outer
instrumental self and not his whole being. It sees the infinite behind all
things finite and it adjudges the value of the finite by higher infinite values
of which they are the imperfect translation and towards which, to a truer
expression of them, they are always trying to arrive. It sees a greater reality
than the apparent not only behind man and the world, but within man and the
world and this soul, self, divine thing in man it holds to be that in him which
is of the highest importance, that which everything else in him must try in
whatever way to bring out and express, and this soul, self, divine presence in
the world it holds to be that which man has ever to try to see and recognise
through all appearances, to unite his thought and life with it and in it to
find his unity with his fellows. This alters necessarily our whole normal view
of things; even in preserving all the aims of human life, it will give them a
different sense and direction.
We aim at the health and vigour of the body; but with
what object? For its own sake, will be the ordinary reply, because it is worth
having; or else that we may have long life and a sound basis for our
intellectual, vital, emotional satisfactions. Yes, for its own sake, in a way,
but in this sense that the physical too is an expression of the spirit and its
perfection is worth having, is part of the Dharma of the complete human living;
but still more as a basis for all that higher activity which ends in the
discovery and expression of the divine self in man, śariram khalu dharma-sādhanam, runs the old Sanskrit saying, the
body too is our means for fulfilling the Dharma, the Godward law of our being.
The mental, the emotional, the aesthetic parts of us have to be developed, is
the ordinary view, so that they may have a greater satisfaction or because that
is man's finer nature, because so he feels himself more alive and fulfilled.
This, but not this only; rather because these things too are the expressions of
the spirit, things which are seeking in him for their divine values and by
their growth, subtlety, flexibility, power, intensity he is able to come nearer
to the divine Reality in the world, to lay hold on it variously, to tune
eventually his whole life into unity and conformity with it. Morality is in the
ordinary view a well-regulated individual and social conduct which keeps
society going and leads towards a better, a more rational, temperate,
sympathetic, self- restrained dealing with our fellows. But ethics in the
spiritual point of view is much more, it is a means of developing in our action
and still more essentially in the character of our being the diviner self in
us, a step of our growing into the nature of the Godhead.
So with all our aims and activities; spirituality takes
them all and gives them a greater, diviner, more intimate sense… the spiritual
viewpoint truth of existence is to be found by intuition and inner experience
and not only by the reason and by scientific observation... Eventually, the
real value of philosophy is to prepare a basis for spiritual realisation and
the growing of the human being into his divine nature. Science itself becomes
only a knowledge of the world which throws an added light on the spirit of the
universe and his way in things. Nor will it confine itself to a physical
knowledge and its practical fruits or to the knowledge of life and man and mind
based upon the idea of matter or material energy as our starting-point; a
spiritualised culture will make room for new fields of research, for new and
old psychical sciences and results which start from spirit as the first truth
and from the power of mind and of what is greater than mind to act upon life
and matter. The primitive aim of art and poetry is to create images of man and
Nature which shall satisfy the sense of beauty and embody artistically the
ideas of the intelligence about life and the responses of the imagination to
it; but in a spiritual culture they become too in their aim a revelation of
greater things concealed in man and Nature and of the deepest spiritual and
universal beauty. Politics, society, economy are in the first form of human
life simply an arrangement by which men collectively can live, produce, satisfy
their desires, enjoy, progress in bodily, vital and mental efficiency; but the
spiritual aim makes them much more than this, first, a framework of life within
which man can seek for and grow into his real self and divinity, secondly, an
increasing embodiment of the divine law of being in life, thirdly, a collective
advance towards the light, power, peace, unity, harmony of the diviner nature
of humanity which the race is trying to evolve. This and nothing more but
nothing less, this in all its potentialities, is what we mean by a spiritual
culture and the application of spirituality to life…
Perhaps there was too much of religion in one sense;
the word is English, smacks too much of things external such as creeds, rites,
an external piety; there is no one Indian equivalent. But if we give rather to
religion the sense of the following of the spiritual impulse in its fullness
and define spirituality as the attempt to know and live in the highest self,
the divine, the all-embracing unity and to raise life in all its parts to the
divinest possible values, then it is evident that there was not too much of
religion, but rather too little of it—and in what there was, a too one-sided
and therefore insufficiently ample tendency. The right remedy is not to
belittle still farther the agelong ideal of