The ‘Five Points’ and the Origins of the Buddhist Schools

The ‘Five Points’ and the Origins of the Buddhist Schools

The historical background

The history of Buddhism in India between the death of the founder and the beginning of the Suṅga period is remarkably little known. Apart from the account of the first two communal recitations (saṅgīti) or Councils and a certain amount of information relating to the reign of the Emperor Aśoka, we are largely dependent upon traditional Buddhist accounts of the origin of the eighteen schools. As Frauwallner has commented: “These accounts are late, uncertain and contradictory, and cannot be relied upon blindly”.

The number eighteen is probably symbolic in nature and should perhaps not be taken too seriously. Nevertheless it is clear that there is a generally accepted tradition that in the course of the second and third centuries after the Buddha’s mahāparinibbāna the saṃgha divided into a number of teacher’s lineages (ācariyakula) or doctrines (vāda;3 ācariyavāda4) or fraternities (nikāya).5 At a later date these terms became in effect synonymous, but this may well not have been the case earlier.

In the early centuries AD the Sinhalese commentators and chroniclers assembled the data available to them and constructed a consistent chronology of the early history of Buddhism and of the kings of Magadha. The absolute chronology which they created has not proven acceptable as it places the reigns of the Mauryan Emperors Candragupta and Aśoka more than sixty years too early.

However, the general account they provide has been reconciled with other data, mainly from the Purāṇas, to create a widely accepted chronological framework for the history of India during this period.

For our purposes, the essential points of this account are that the accession of Aśoka occurs in 218 BE and all eighteen schools were already

in existence by 200 BE.6 This we will call the ‘long chronology’, to use a convenient term of Lamotte’s.7

A number of works of Sarvāstivādin origin (and later works influenced by them) date the accession of Aśoka to 100 BE. In fact it seems clear that during the early centuries AD the Vaibhāṣika commentators attempted to create a chronological framework for the early history, probably using a version of the Aśoka legend as their starting point.

Of course, many of the Sanskrit texts simply give isolated statements, which could not be called a chronology. However, we do possess a work on the doctrines of the eighteen schools which does go some way towards achieving a unified framework.

This is a treatise attributed to Vasumitra, extant in three Chinese and one Tibetan translation. In fact the verses naming the author as the ‘bodhisattva Vasumitra’ are absent from the earliest Chinese translation (beginning of the fifth century AD) and were clearly added in India at a later date.

The first translation would hardly have failed to mention his name, if its attribution to one of the famous figures of Sarvāstivādin history bearing the name of Vasumitra had been known at the time. Probably it is a work of the third or fourth centuries AD.

For our purposes the essential points to note are that for Pseudo-Vasumitra divisions begin during the reign of Aśoka in the second century BE.8 By the end of the second century the Mahāsāṅghikas had eight new branches but the Sthaviras were still undivided.

During the course of the third century BE nine new branches of the Sthaviras emerge and the Sautrāntikas arrive in the fourth century BE. This we will call the ‘short chronology’.

The difference between the two chronologies is rather considerable. According to the long chronology all eighteen schools existed eighteen years before the accession of Aśoka.

According to the short chronology divisions among the Sthaviras do not begin until 100 years after the accession of Aśoka. We do not know whether other major schools than the Theravādins and the Sarvāstivādins had created their own chronologies.

The Śāriputraparipṛcchā, a Mahāsāṅghika work translated into Chinese between AD 317 and 420, follows more or less the same chronology as Pseudo-Vasumitra.9 Bhavya preserves various traditions which may be old, but it seems dangerous to rely on material only collected as late as the sixth century AD.

Later translations mention 116 BE, but it seems clear that originally the work, like the Dīpavaṃsa, specified only the century. See A. Bareau, “Trois traités sur les sectes bouddhiques attribués à Vasumitra”, JA, 1954, 236ff.

A number of scholars have expressed doubts as to whether we can still accept a version of the long chronology as authoritative.10 At present it does not seem possible to decide the question. Here only a few of the relevant issues can be addressed, since our concern is to examine the nature of the earliest divisions in the Buddhist community and of the earliest schools of thought.

However, some points cannot be avoided entirely. One of our earliest sources relates the first schism of all to the second communal recitation—usually known as the Council of Vaiśāli.

The Council of Vaiśāli

An account of the first two communal recitations is contained in all surviving recensions of the Vinayapiṭaka. We possess one version in Pāli, parts of two in Sanskrit, one in Tibetan and five in Chinese.

There is also a summary of the Vinaya of the Haimavata school in Chinese.

This material has been conveniently collected in French by Hofinger.12 The date of the events described is given as 100 BE in the Pāli Vinaya and in the Vinayas of the Mahīśāsakas, Dharmaguptakas and Haimavatas.

These schools are closely related as regards their Vinayas.

The Vinayas of the Sarvāstivādins and Mūlasarvāstivādins give the date as 110 BE. No doubt this divergence is due to a wish to reconcile the account of the second communal recitation with the tradition found in Sarvāstivādin works that the accession of Aśoka took place in 100 BE.14 The rather brief account in the Mahāsāṅghika Vinaya gives no date at all.

In any case it seems likely that the figure of 100 years was known in the last centuries

The Vinaya of the Mūlasarvāstivādins is well known to have been revised at a late date, while the portion of the Sarvāstivādin Vinaya which contains the account of the councils is an addition translated at a later time—P. Demiéville, “À propos du Concile de Vaiśāli”, 242ff. See also P.H.L. Eggermont, “New Notes on Aśoka and his Successors, II”, 88, and H. Bechert, Die Lebenszeit des Buddha, 160.

BC, whether or not it is original. This would still be far earlier than most of our historical information for the early period.

One hundred years is a round figure, and was almost certainly not intended as an exact count of years. It is more interesting to examine the accounts of the event to see what they tell us as to its likely dating. What is immediately striking is the paucity of claims to direct connection with Buddha.

Yet even as late as 60 BE there would have been monks in their eighties who would have received upasampadā in the lifetime of the Buddha (even perhaps some in their seventies who were novices at a young age). Given the emphasis upon seniority in the saṅgha, such monks would have played a major role (ceremonially even if not in fact) and their connection with the Buddha would have been mentioned in all extant accounts.

They are not mentioned. We can assume therefore that the second communal recitation did not take place much before about 70 BE.

On the other hand every account we have emphasizes the connection with Ānanda (except the Mahāsāṅghika). The very brief Mahāsāṅghika account is however one of the few to claim a direct relationship with the Buddha.

At the very least it seems likely that in the original version the presiding monk (very probably the oldest living monk) was specifically claimed to have been a pupil of Ānanda.

No early tradition survives as to the date of the death of Ānanda, but it seems reasonable to suppose that he might have lived until around 20 BE.18 In this kind of context being a pupil of Ānanda does not necessarily involve a long period of contact.

In his old age Ānanda would no doubt have been the head of a large group of monks and even the pupils of his pupils would have had Ānanda as their nominal teacher so long as Ānanda was still alive.

At the traditional date (taken literally) of 100 BE it would just about be possible for the most senior monk alive to be reckoned a pupil of Ānanda—he would have to be an active centenarian.

A date ten or so years earlier would be more likely. In the form in which we have the tradition, however, it is quite impossible—a whole group of active centenarians is not believable!

A group of active octogenarians is certainly possible—we are after all dealing with a group of elders selected precisely because of their age.

It might be argued that life expectancy would have been lower at the time. However, we are dealing with a group of individuals who are teetotal, non-smoking and celibate.

They would have had plenty of exercise and would usually be regarded as noncombatants in situations of conflict. Data on life expectancy from Egypt in the early centuries AD suggest a 50% mortality rate for each decade of life after adolescence, but this would be for the general population. See N. Lewis, Life in Egypt under Roman Rule, .

Even the later Dīp IV 50, 52; V 23 claim that they had all ‘seen the Tathāgata’ is not entirely ruled out. A small child could well have been taken to ‘see the Tathāgata’ at a very young age and told about the event when it was older. As late as 80 BE the oldest monk alive would very likely have some such memory.

What emerges from this is that a date of around 70–80 BE is implied by the accounts as we have them. Two further points should be noted. Firstly, the early traditions do not mention the name of the king, presumably because it was of no interest and because he played no special role in these events. Secondly, all the early accounts (including that of the Mahāsāṅghikas) leave us to understand that the decisions taken were accepted by all parties.

The First Schism

The earliest accounts we have of the first schism in the Buddhist order are quite late. Even by the short chronology we are speaking of sources between four and six centuries subsequent to the event.

By the long chronology we could be dealing with sources no earlier than eight centuries after. The earliest source is possibly the Mahāvibhāṣā, which is posterior to Kaniṣka in date.

However, the relevant passage is absent from the earliest translation into Chinese of this work.22 It could therefore be a later addition made in India.

This account claims that the first schism was the result of doctrinal controversies over the ‘{{Five Points[[’ advanced by a monk named Mahādeva.23 Let us note that Mahādeva is not named in this context in any other early source and is therefore not certainly named before the fifth century AD—nearly a thousand years later (by the long chronology)!

Pseudo-Vasumitra, also a Sarvāstivādin source, likewise attributes the schism to doctrinal disputes over ‘{{Five Points[[’. The earliest Chinese translation refers to three monks named Nāga, Pratyaya and Bahuśruta. The Tibetan translation is similar.

The two later Chinese translations refer to four groups of monks.24 This is clearly related to a later passage from a work attributed to Bhavya (sixth or seventh century) which attributes the schism to a worthy monk (unnamed or named Bhadraka), subsequently supported by two learned (bahuśruta) Elders named

This line of thought was first suggested to me by Richard Gombrich, but my conclusions differ slightly from his. See R. Gombrich, “The History of Early Buddhism: Major Advances since 1950”, Nāgasena) and Sthiramati (according to Bu-ston Valguka).

Tāranātha infers from the contents of the subsequent list of the propositions attributed to the different schools that this is a tradition of the Sammitīya school.

The same source (quoted by Bhavya) dates these events to 137 BE under the kings Nanda and Mahāpadma and mentions that the work of the Elder Vātsīputra took place in 200 BE.

This date for the origins of the Pudgalavāda is too late in terms of the long chronology, but reasonably compatible with the short chronology which dates the beginning of divisions among the Sthaviras to 200 BE. The first date is more in line with the long chronology. Probably the Sammitīyas had their own chronology.

By contrast the Sinhalese tradition knows nothing of a doctrinal cause for the first schism. The oldest source is the Dīpavaṃsa which probably dates from immediately after the reign of Mahāsena when its account ends.

This would be early fourth century AD.26 It traces the origin of the schism to the defeated party at the second communal recitation and is followed in this by later Sinhalese chronicles.

Noticeably, however, Buddhaghosa does not give an account of the origin of the eighteen schools in the Samantapāsādikā.

The commentary to the Kathāvatthu does. Its account is closely related to that in the Mahāvaṃsa, but also quotes the Dīpavaṃsa in full. This strongly suggests that no account of the ‘eighteen schools’ was preserved in the commentarial tradition of the Mahāvihāra.

This can also be inferred from the Dīpavaṃsa. The first part of Chapter V is given a separate title Ācariyavāda.

It contains the account of the schools preceded by an account of the first two communal recitations or dhamma recensions (saṃgaha).

Since Chapter IV had already given an account of these it is obvious that the Dīpavaṃsa is drawing on a second older source, presumably in Sinhala Prakrit.

We can go further than this. That older source has clearly taken a list of schools of northern origin and added to it an introduction giving an account of the two communal recitations based on the Mahāvihāra commentarial tradition. That it is a list of northern origin emerges clearly from its close relation to the lists given

AD 274–302 (G.C. Mendis, “The Chronology of the Early Pāli Chronicles of Ceylon”, UCR, 1947, 54). Mendis, following Paranavitana, rejects the notion that an era based on 483 BC was known in ancient Ceylon. H. Bechert, “The Date of the Buddha Reconsidered”, 32, agrees but R. Gombrich, Theravāda Buddhism, London, 1988, 141n., prefers to retain the traditional dating of Wickremasinghe (followed by Geiger). For Mahāsena this would give dates of 334–361/2.

by Pseudo-Vasumitra and the Śāriputraparipṛcchā.29 In fact it is possible to infer that it derives from a Sarvāstivādin original, probably mediated by a Mahīśāsaka source.

The reason this can be inferred is that the first schism in the Theravāda is attributed to the Mahīśāsakas from whom the other divisions descend.

This is the position where one would expect the Sarvāstivādins who are found conversely in the position where one would expect the Mahīśāsakas (i.e. in close connection with the Dharmaguptakas).

The list gives details of minor Sarvāstivādin branches such as the Suttavādins and clearly lacked information on the later Mahāsāṅghika schools of Amarāvati and Nāgārjunikoṇḍa. On the other hand the Sinhalese were well aware of the Andhakas.

Their views are often referred to in the commentary to the Kathāvatthu. There is inscriptional evidence of the presence of the Sinhalese school at Nāgārjunikoṇḍa in the third century AD.30 One of Buddhaghosa’s sources is an Andhakaṭṭhakathā.

In these circumstances it is easy to understand why the list of schools given in[[ Kathāvatthu]-aṭṭhakathā does not relate very well to the attributions given in the body of that very text. Not surprisingly, therefore, the Ceylon texts add a further list of six Indian schools. These do relate to the Kathāvatthu and are obviously based upon the Mahāvihāra commentary to that work.

We may note the mention of schools such as the Rājagirikas and the Siddhathikas, hardly mentioned in Indian literature but known from inscriptions at Amarāvati. Even more suggestive is the presence of the otherwise unknown Vājiriyas.

It is not then surprising that Kathāvatthu Commentary often feels the need to add the word etarahi ‘nowadays’ when it attributes particular views to particular schools.

Like the Ceylon tradition, the eclectic Sāriputraparipṛcchā gives a list of the eighteen schools of northern origin. It too knows nothing of a first schism due to discussion of doctrinal points.

Neither, however, does it describe the origin of the Mahāsāṅghikas as deriving from the defeated party at the second communal recitation. Rather it sees the Mahāsāṅghikas as the conservative party which has

Probably the later term Vetullaka has been substituted for them in the extant version of Kv-a, just as the term Vetulyavāda (Mhv XXXVI, 41) replaces the earlier Vitaṇḍavāda (Dīp XXII 43–44).

Etarahi occurs throughout vaggas 2 and 3, predominates in vaggas 1 and 4 and peters out in vagga . Apart from one occurrence in the eighth vagga it does not occur again except in vaggas 17 and 18 where it is always applied to the Vetullakas.

This may be because one is intended to take it as read after the first few vaggas. Alternatively, it is possible that the original information available for these did not make sense and so the commentator has substituted a reference to the contemporary situation.

preserved the original Vinaya unchanged against reformist efforts to create a reorganized and stricter version. Like the Dīpavaṃsa it sees the origin of the name partly in a council where the Mahāsāṅghikas were in the majority and their opponents included many senior monks.

This must however be largely a myth based upon a folk etymology. Clearly the Mahāsāṅghikas are in fact a school claiming to follow the Vinaya of the original, undivided saṅgha, i.e. the mahāsaṅgha.

Similarly the theravāda is simply the traditional teaching, i.e. the original teaching before it came to be divided into schools of thought.36 The Dīpavaṃsa makes this clear when it explicitly identifies the term theravāda with the term aggavāda in the sense of primal teaching. We have then two accounts of the origins of the first schism. The first is of Sarvāstivādin origin.

Known from two sources of around the third and fourth centuries AD and in many later sources based on these, it attributes the origin to doctrinal disputes over the ‘{{Five Points[[’.

The second is of Theravādin and Mahāsāṅghika origin. Known from two sources of around the third and fourth centuries AD, and in many later sources based on these, it attributes the origin to Vinaya issues.

It is obviously important to examine carefully the evidence for the content of the doctrinal disputes. As we shall see, it is very much earlier in date than the evidence for the ‘eighteen schools’.

The ‘Five Points’

The most detailed account we have of the ‘Five Points’ is contained in a canonical Pāli text, the Kathāvatthu. Traditionally this work is attributed to Moggaliputta Tissa in the reign of Aśoka, i.e. the latter part of the third century BC.

Although some scholars have supported the traditional view, it is in fact clear that it is not a unitary work in the form in which we have it.38 If the authenticity of the Ceylon tradition that the Canon was closed in the first century BC is accepted, then even the latest portions would not be subsequent to the first century BC.

This cannot in any case be far wrong. The Kathāvatthu on the one hand contains arguments against some Mahāyānist or proto-Mahāyānist notions and on the other clearly does not know the developed Mahāyāna.

A good example would be the assertion in one of the final sections of the Kathāvatthu that Buddhas stand in all directions.39 The supporter of this view denies that they are in any of the recognized heaven realms but is not able to name any such Buddhas

when challenged to do so. Such an argument would not have been possible once the developed Mahāyāna literature was known.

We can in any case be certain of an early date for the oldest portions of the Kathāvatthu.

The first vagga (known as the mahāvagga) discusses mainly but not exclusively the views of the ‘person’ and of sabbam atthi ‘all exists’; it contains a number of anomalous linguistic forms.

These are not quite absent in the remaining vaggas but relatively few. Norman has convincingly established that these cannot be due to influence from Sinhala Prakrit but must be of North Indian origin.

He has also suggested that there was originally a dialect difference between the two speakers in the framework of the puggalakathā (the first portion of the first vagga).

This gains support from the fact that a canonical Sarvāstivādin abhidharma work, the Vijñānakāya, devotes its first two chapters to defending the doctrine of sarvam asti and criticizing the notion of the pudgala—the same two topics that we find in the mahāvagga but in reverse order. In the first chapter the opponent of sarvam asti is named as Maudgalyāyana (Mou-lien).

As was pointed out by La Vallée Poussin, this must refer to Moggaliputta Tissa, the author of the Kathāvatthu.43 The earliest portion of the Kathāvatthu is then likely to date from the third century BC or very soon thereafter.

It is worth noting at this point that this suggests a three-way split.

Party A would oppose both the puggala and sabbam atthi. Led by Moggaliputta they would be Vibhajyavādins and ancestors of the Ceylon tradition among others.

Party B espouses sarvam asti and opposes the doctrine of the ‘person’, preferring its own teaching referred to by the Vijñānakāya as śūnyatāvāda. They would be the ancestors of the Sarvāstivāda. Party C would be the Pudgalavādins who presumably rejected the doctrine of sarvam asti.

This three-way split gains some support from a Pāli commentarial passage which treats puggalavāda and suññatavāda as extremes to be avoided. In any case it is not clear whether these were yet distinct fraternities (nikāya) or merely schools of opinion.

Nor is it clear what the relationship of these three schools would be to the Mahāsāṅghikas.

Māgadhisms outside the puggalakathā are particularly prominent at Kv 119-120 and 159-162 i.e. in discussions related to sabbam atthi.

The very next section of the Kathāvatthu deals precisely with the ‘{{Five Points[[’. This portion of the text must also be quite early. It seems to represent a genuine debate with a real opponent. The tone of it is still very similar to the mahāvagga.

It is probably part of the original core of the text. Even if not, it cannot plausibly be dated later than the second century BC.

It is a matter of some surprise that most scholars have in fact given more weight to much later accounts than to the actual content of the Kathāvatthu itself. Let us note that by the short chronology the relevant portions of the text would be close in time to the original disputes. Even by the long chronology they would only be a century or so later.

This contrasts sharply with sources belonging to the commentarial period some five centuries later. Moreover, such sources mostly represent a genre of literature which handed down supposed views of different schools in short statements.

Out of context in this way they are subject to error and reinterpretation. In some instances it is quite clear that this has been the case. Such works do not constitute a good source for the understanding of controversial points.

Wherever possible, these must be understood in their original context, that is to say in the actual abhidhamma literature itself.

It is by no means clear that most of the views we are given as sectarian views were ever the positions of clearly defined schools. Many of them are surely constructed dilemmas, intended as debating points to sharpen understanding of the issues.

They could never have been the cause of serious sectarian division. It is much more probable that they, like much else in the canonical abhidhamma, are simply the distant ancestors of the dialectic of the Mādhyamikas.

The ‘Five Points’ in the Kathāvatthu

The thing that stands out most clearly about the treatment of this subject in the Kathāvatthu is that it is closely related to the earlier discussion as to whether an arahat can fall away. The same structure is applied to each of the first four points as is applied in the earlier discussion. The parallel is so close that it is difficult to doubt that they are part of one and the same discourse. The view that an arahat

can fall away is standard in the Sarvāstivāda and the orthodox Vaibhāṣika position on the subject is recounted at length by Vasubandhu in the Abhidharmakośa.47

The Kathāvatthu is clearly criticizing a very similar position, i.e. one in which the arahat, never-returner and once-returner can fall away, but the stream-enterer cannot. The opponent in the Kathāvatthu and the Vaibhāṣika both support their case by reference to the obscure distinction between the samayavimutta and the asamayavimutta.

The context in which we should see the ‘{{Five Points[[’ is then that of the abhidhamma debates which refine the interpretation of some of the more recondite points of suttanta teaching.

We shall see that such a context gives little support to notions which see the ‘{{Five Points[[’ as involving some kind of downgrading of the arahat as against a Buddha. This is not the issue. If there is a downgrading, it is rather a devaluing of the arahat who has not developed the abhiññā.

The arahat has doubt

The simplest of the ‘{{Five Points[[’ to understand is certainly the proposition that the arahat has doubt. The first thing to notice is how remarkable this proposition is. It is a frequent declaration of the suttanta literature that the stream-enterer has overcome doubt.

So basic is this notion that the statement that an arahat has doubt must be intended to startle. In fact when the argument is examined in detail it is clear that it has been carefully constructed in order to generate a challenging proposition.

In the first place, the word used for doubt is kaṅkhā. Now this is just slightly less specialized in its usage in the earlier literature than the more technical vicikicchā. It is immediately agreed by both parties that the arahat does not have either vicikicchā or kaṅkhā in the technical sense of doubt as to Teacher, Dhamma, Saṅgha, etc.

It is equally agreed by both parties that an arahat may be in doubt as to name and family, as to right and wrong roads and as to ownership of grass, wood and trees, but cannot be in doubt as to the four fruitions (phala).

In this restricted sense the proposition cannot really be disputed; so an initially counter-intuitive thesis achieves the aim of both stimulating the hearer and sharpening the understanding. Clearly all that is at issue is at most a terminological question, if that.

It is significant that the Satyasiddhiśāstra gives a parallel account of the nature of doubt. Of special interest is the distinction made between an arahat skilled in his own dhamma (sadhammakusala) and an arahat skilled in paradhamma.

Only the latter is free from doubt in both senses. The commentary is probably right to equate this to the distinction between paññāvimutta and ubhatobhāgavimutta.

In this context that is equivalent to the distinction between an arahat without higher knowledges (abhiññā) and one who has developed such abilities. Interestingly this is not a standard term in the Pāli abhidhamma and appears to be drawn from the terminology of the opponent.

The arahat has ignorance

Hardly less surprising is the proposition that an arahat has ignorance. Here again a slightly less specific term—aññāṇa is used for ignorance rather than the more usual technical term—avijjā, but the conclusions are practically identical. In fact the whole course of the discussion is on the same lines as in the case of doubt.

A number of scholars have followed the Mahāvibhāṣā in interpreting this as referring to unafflicted (akliṣṭa) ignorance. It is perhaps worth noting that this, if correct, would situate the discussion very much in the context of the Sarvāstivādin tradition.

Such a terminology is absent from the Pāli abhidhamma literature. Of course the substantial point is very similar. However, the Jñānaprasthāna appears to have understood that an arahat could be ignorant as to his own liberation.

Paravitāraṇā

This is the fourth proposition in all the extant lists. Paravitāraṇā can mean:

A. induction of comprehension by others; B. induction of investigation by others; C. being made to overcome by others; D. being made to complete by others.

One suspects that a deliberate wordplay of the kind so frequent in the Paṭisambhidāmagga is intended.53 The Kathāvatthu seems to take it in the first two senses. The context suggests sense C which recalls the notion of kaṅkhāvitaraṇa ‘overcoming doubt’.55 It is clear that the variations in the translations of Pseudo-Vasumitra, etc. are simply the different options.

The Jñānaprasthāna probably had the same term as the Kathāvatthu.56 Again we have a superficially startling notion. The whole point of being an arahat is to have an independent knowledge of truth such that no assistance would be required from others.

Note that this is the first point raised in the Kathāvatthu and the opponent immediately concedes that an arahat is not dependent on another and does not lack wisdom in the sense of knowledge of the Buddhist path.

In fact each of the four senses given above requires abhidhamma analysis. Sense A is true if what is meant is comprehension of mundane information. It is false if what is meant is the liberating knowledge.

Sense B is false if what is meant is the arousing of insight since the arahat must have active wisdom at the time of realization. It would be possible, however, to argue that someone might attain arahatship, but not label their experience: ‘this is arahatship’.

If the question were raised, they would be able to identify it. It is also possible to argue that not all ariyas would have the relevant reviewing knowledge.58 Indeed this would be generally agreed for stream-enterers (cf. the story of Mahānāma); some would only be able to identify themselves as stream-enterers after being told the relevant criteria and investigating to establish the absence of doubt, etc.

Sense C, however, implies the existence of arahats who can only overcome defilements after a stimulus from someone else and sense D implies arahats who can only complete the path, etc. after such a stimulus. The need for such a stimulus (parato ghoso) is of course standard for stream-enterers and reasonably widely exemplified for arahats. It would, however, be felt in the Theravādin abhidhamma and other ekâbhisamaya schools that the individual concerned was not

Paṭis is certainly another text of this formative period. See A.K. Warder’s introduction to Paṭis tr.

The second of the ‘{{Five Points[[’ is precisely kaṅkhā in the Kathāvatthu. Most other sources reverse the order of the second and third points, which means that kaṅkhā immediately precedes paravitāraṇā.

This may be earlier, but one late source, Vinītadeva follows the Pāli order—A. Bareau, op. cit., 194. It is also possible that the verse cited by Pseudo-Vasumitra, etc. has changed the order for metrical reasons (see n. 71 below).

yet an arahat—he would perhaps have experienced the ordinary (lokiya) path of arahatship but not yet the transcendent (lokuttara) path. Such a view would be more appropriate to an early version of the gradualism of the Sarvāstivāda.

It is perhaps significant that the final point made in the Kathāvatthu is an acknowledgement that arahats are not made to comprehend the (fruit of) arahatship by others. La Vallée Poussin is misleading here.

The opponent accepts this point. No-one is arguing that an arahat can be mistaken as to his fruition. This possibly implies a school in which experience of magga is not necessarily immediately followed by the phala. Again, I suggest, an early version of anupūrvâbhisamaya.

In the seminal article in which he identified the ‘{{Five Points[[’ in the Kathāvatthu, La Vallée Poussin offers three possible translations of ‘Points’ 2–4. The third, which he considers, to be “probably (?) the original meaning of Mahādeva”, is: “being ignorant and subject to doubt, an arhat ought to receive instruction”.

To my mind, this is unfortunate. La Vallée Poussin’s article has been extremely influential and widely followed—in particular in his view that the “general import seems to be a strong depreciation of the arahats”.

In fact the other two translations which he offers are more to the point. The first refers simply to acquiring mundane information while the second is the case of an arahat unaware of his arahatship who “gets certitude from the asseveration of another”.

What we have here is a constructed dilemma which clarifies the distinction between the knowledge of dhamma which every arahat must have and the more mundane knowledges of name and family, etc. which are only known to some arahats.

There is no depreciation of arahats as such, here. At most it is only arahats without higher attainments and higher knowledges who are being (slightly) depreciated.

Why then did La Vallée Poussin think there was?

Partly it must be because of relying on the accounts associated with the name of Mahādeva—accounts which we now know to be late and probably subsequent to the period of conflict between Mahāyāna and the early schools which seems to have occurred around the third century AD.63 Even more important was his interpretation of the first of the ‘Five Points’ to which we must now turn.

Parûpahāra

Unusually there are two terms given for the first ‘Point’ in the Kathāvatthu. In the uddāna we find parûpahāra.

This, in isolation rather cryptic expression, is found also in Pseudo-Vasumitra. Demiéville points out that the different Chinese translations must derive from different interpretations of the term. The earliest translation and also the Tibetan translation interpret it in the sense of ‘providing’.

Bhavya clearly had the same word but the Tibetan translators appear to have resolved the compound as ‘providing for another’ instead of being ‘provision by another’. Unfortunately both Lamotte and Bareau have chosen to follow Hsüan-tsang and translate this point as “the arahat can be seduced by others”.

In the body of the text of the Kathāvatthu the proposition is put at first as “an arahat has emission of impure seminal fluid”. Demiéville renders the Jñānaprasthāna version as: “Il y a chez l’Arhat, molesté par le dieu Māra, émission d’impureté”. Just as with the other ‘Points’ the proposition is very startling.

The question of the emission of semen is extremely important in the Vinaya literature and hence in the practical life of the bhikkhu. It is discussed there not infrequently and the emphatic statement in the Mahāvagga68 that it cannot occur that an arahat’s semen would be released would have been well-known.

La Vallée Poussin suggested that the notion here is that of a succubus. The Kathāvatthu refers to the opponent’s claim that divinities of the Māra class (Mārakāyikā devatā) bring about the arahat’s emission of seminal impurity.

The Jñānaprasthāna also attributes this to the activity of Māra. According to Paramārtha, Mahādeva claimed that all bodily outflows (tears, phlegm, etc.) in an arahat are the work of Māra. The same source attributed to Mahādeva a sūtra in which occurs the statement:

What is important to note is that no source claims that this could occur as a result of a dream. Of course it is suggested that a dream occurred in the case of Mahādeva, but this is precisely because he is, according to the Mahāvibhāṣā, a false arahat.

Arahats do not dream

The key to the interpretation of this passage lies in the presentation of the opponent’s argument at the end.70 The Kathāvatthu often allows the opponent to make a telling point near the end of the discussion. Here the point made is that others may provide (upasaṃhareyyuṃ) the five requisites; therefore there is parūpahāra for an arahat.

This is textually slightly clumsy as it stands. The reason is clear. In the ‘Five Points’ as they originally stood what was asserted was the proposition that an arahat can be provided (with material things) by others.

This is obviously closely analogous to the provision of mundane information as envisaged in the following ‘Points’.

As we have seen, it is precisely this original proposition which is preserved by Pseudo-Vasumitra and Bhavya, undoubtedly because it was enshrined in a verse.

The Kathāvatthu and Jñānaprasthāna have focussed on what they see as the weak point in the opponent’s argument in a kind of reductio. One may guess that there really was a sūtra in which Māra was depicted as doing some such thing.

This would not be so far out of line with some of the other things Māra is shown as doing in the Canon. The logic is after all clear: deities can provide the requisites for monks.

If supernatural beings can create food and robes for arahats, then they can create other things. If so, Māras can create undesirable things. We have a sutta to support this.

It is interesting to see how the Kathāvatthu seeks to oppose the point. Initially it establishes agreement that arahats do not have passionate attachment (rāga) and implies that seminal emission is appropriate only for those who do.

Then it seeks to establish the origin of the seminal fluid produced by deities of the Māra class. The opponent agrees that it is not from those deities nor the arahat’s own nor from other people. Deities and arahats do not have seminal emissions in the ordinary way.

If from other people, how does it get into the body? The opponent agrees that it is not provided through the pores of the body. This rules out either a source from other human beings or a creation by those deities outside the body.

The question is then asked why these deities do this, and we learn that it is in order to produce doubt (vimati). It is established that this is not doubt in the Teacher, etc. Presumably, then, it is some kind of mundane doubt.

This topic is then left—presumably because it will be taken up in discussion of the subsequent ‘Points’. Then we return to the question of the origin of the seminal fluid.

The point to note is that Māras are Paranimmitavasavattin deities—they have power over the creations of others, they do not merely create.

The opponent is clearly working on the basis of traditional Indian medicine in which seminal fluid (sukka) is one of the seven elements beginning with chyle (rasa) into which food is successively transformed.

The objection is raised that not all who eat have emissions of seminal fluid (e.g. boys, eunuchs and deities). It is also objected that the case of excretion is not analogous, since there is no reservoir (āsaya) for seminal fluid as there is for digested food.

All this seems a little out of harmony with the next section which is an abhidhamma style ‘circulating discourse’. First it is established that an arahat has completely and utterly made an end of passionate attachment.

Then the same is established for each of the other nine kilesas. Next it is established that the path has been brought into being in order to abandon passionate attachment (rāgappahānāya maggo bhāvito).

The same is then established one by one for each of the other six sets which make up the bodhipakkhiyadhammas.

This whole process is then gone through one by one for each of the other nine kilesas (which include both delusion and doubt).

A fine mnemonic chant! What is its purpose? The answer must be, to emphasize the thoroughness with which an arahat has accomplished his task in order to counter the suggestion that an arahat may fall away.

What follows is a quotation emphasizing the qualities of the arahat. Then comes the distinction between the two kinds of arahat. Then the whole process involving the ten kilesas and the seven sets applied to each of the ten is applied to the two arahats. In fact a catuṣkoṭi is employed in each case to point out the oddity of the proposition.

It is this circulating discourse which recurs for the next three ‘Points’ and is found in very similar form in the earlier discussion of an arahat’s falling away.

The original form of the ‘Five Points’

Analysis of the Kathāvatthu gives, then, clear evidence of a historical development in the materials from which it is composed. We can divide this into three phases.

Phase One is the development of a literature consisting of constructed dilemmas. Of course, some of these were probably very old but a fashion, as it were, for them would be associated with the rise of abhidhamma.

They would not really be a radical departure of any kind, just a stimulating formulation for purposes of clarification. It is material of this sort which has been used as the basis for many of the kathāvatthūni ‘points for discussion’. No doubt, too, they continued to be composed.

Phase Two would be slightly later than, but overlapping with, Phase One. This would be the period of the three-way doctrinal discussions between Pudgalavādins, Sarvāstivādins and Vibhajyavādins. It is just these three schools for whom we have a coherent doctrinal structure emerging from the early period and no others.

this period, however, we must certainly think in terms of schools of thought rather than separate, organized sects. In the Kathāvatthu this would be evidenced by the Puggalakathā and the sections in the early chapters dealing with the Sarvāstivāda.

The original version of the ‘{{Five Points[[’, if it was originally a set of five, would be:

a. provision by others (parūpahāra)

b. lack of knowledge (aññāṇa)

c. uncertainty (kaṅkhā)

d. induction of comprehension/investigation by others (paravitāraṇā)

e. the arahat falls away (parihāyati arahā).

This would be a mnemonic for the following argument.

There are certain individuals who attain a temporary liberation. They require an external stimulus. How do we know that arahats of any kind may require external aid? It is agreed that they can receive material aid from others.

Equally they can be in doubt as to the correct road to take on a journey and can lack knowledge of mundane things. In such cases they require external information if they do not have psychic powers.

Similarly certain individuals can momentarily achieve arahatship but external confirmation or an external stimulus to stabilize their achievement is required if they do not have sufficient concentration.

Phase Three in the development of the Kathāvatthu would represent a subsequent reshaping in a changed historical situation. The northern Sarvāstivādin tradition has receded from awareness. Its centres in Kashmir, Gandhāra and Mathurā are far away.

Contact now is with the Mahāsāṅghika traditions further south. It is to this period that we should attribute the work of Mahādeva. Pseudo-Vasumitra describes the origin of three schools as due to the work of Mahādeva.

Pudgalavādin are: 1–69; 93–115; Sarvāstivādin are: 69–93; 103–9; 115–51; 212–20; 225–7; closely related are: 151–55; 159–63. If the first four ‘Points’ were originally Sarvāstivādin (i.e. 163–95), there can have been very little in the first two vaggas concerned with schools other than these two.

If there was originally a mnemonic verse (note 71 above), then the pādas of the second line might have been either:

arahā parihāyati / etaṃ Buddhāna

sāsanam // or

arahattā parihāni / etaṃ

Buddhānusāsanam //

The Śāriputraparipṛcchā refers to the ‘school of Mahādeva’ in the same context.78 It is with the same group of schools that the Kathāvatthu Commentary associates the ‘{{Five Points[[’. These and later schools are grouped by the Kathāvatthu Commentary under the name of Andhaka and it is precisely in inscriptions from Amarāvati and Nāgārjunikoṇḍa that we meet them.

According to the earliest translation of Pseudo-Vasumitra we should date this Mahādeva’s work to the period before 200 BE. This is a short chronology work; so it must refer to a date about one hundred years after the accession of Aśoka, i.e. the early second century BC.

Since Pāli sources also imply a date after the reign of Aśoka, it is probably safe to date the formation of these later Mahāsāṅghika schools to the second century BC.79 What I wish to argue is that the Kathāvatthu was expanded and reshaped precisely at this time in response to ideas coming from these schools.

In fact the commentary attributes the bulk of the views in the Kathāvatthu either to the schools it calls Andhakas or to the Uttarāpathakas.

This must be a recollection of the situation at an earlier date. Probably many views originally of Sarvāstivādin origin have been transferred to the more familiar Andhakas.80 The term ‘Andhaka’ itself is a reflection of Śātavāhana times.

Mahādeva would then have taken up the ‘{{Five Points[[’ and reformulated them for his own purposes.

It is this reformulation which is evidenced in the Kathāvatthu. Probably it is at this stage that the first ‘Point’ was transformed from a simple statement that arahats can receive material aid from divinities to a claim that (some?) arahats are subject to physical interference by divinities of the Māra class. Very possibly the subsequent points were also reinterpreted in a stronger sense.

The fifth ‘Point’

The early Mahāsāṅghikas appear to have rejected the idea that an arahat could fall away.81 This must be the reason why Mahādeva has changed the fifth ‘Point’. It might have seemed natural simply to transfer it to the stream-enterer, but this has

See Nattier and Prebish, op. cit., 258–64 for the view that Mahādeva and the ‘Five Points’ must be associated with ‘southern’ Mahāsāṅghika schools.

A good example of this is at Kv-a 60 where the distinction between appaṭisaṅkhā-nirodha and paṭisaṅkhā-nirodha is attributed to the Mahiṃsāsakas and the Andhakas. Yet it must surely be Sarvāstivādin.

See A. Bareau, op. cit., 244; Les Sectes bouddhiques du Petit Véhicule, This seems to be what is said in Pseudo-Vasumitra, although the earliest translation differs: A. Bareau, “Trois traités sur les sectes bouddhiques attribués à Vasumitra, Bhavya et Vinītadeva”, 243 n.

Bhavya is silent, but Vinītadeva (idem, page 194) attributes the view that there is no falling away from either arahatship or stream-entry to the Lokottaravādins. Bareau cites the Vibhāṣā. Kv-a 37 attributes the view that arahats can fall away to some Mahāsāṅghikas. Probably this idea was admitted later in the Andhaka schools.

not been done explicitly. Instead, other questions related to stream-entry have been taken up, which could approach the same question more obliquely. The second vagga of the Kathāvatthu preserves two items.

In fifth place we have the proposition that there could be verbal utterance (vacībheda) on the part of someone in a meditative attainment (samāpannassa), while in sixth place we have another statement in cryptic form: dukkhâhāro maggaṅgaṃ.

Within the text of the first item we have the question: “When knowing ‘suffering’, does one utter the word ‘suffering’?”, while in the text of the second is the question: “Do all those who utter the word ‘suffering’ bring into being (bhāventi) the path?”

Bhavya has the same two items, but in reverse order, in his account of the views of the Ekavyavahārikas.

It is the second item which corresponds with the fifth ‘Point’ of the Sanskrit sources.

It is suitably ambiguous. At first sight it could easily be taken to mean: “the nutriment of suffering is a factor of the path”—a rather unexpected notion. It could mean “evoking [[[knowledge]] of] suffering is the cause of the path”, but this would not be at all controversial.

What must be in fact intended is: “pronouncing [the word] ‘suffering’ is the cause of the path” or it could be “…is a sign of the path”.86 Paramārtha and his interpreters preserve two explanations. One is that repeating a verse can provide the stimulus required to arouse the path of stream-entry as in the case of Sāriputta.

The point here seems to be that attainment of stream-entry normally requires some form of teaching from the Buddha or a Vinītadeva—A. Bareau, “Trois traités sur les sectes bouddhiques attribués à Vasumitra, Bhavya et Vinītadeva”, 194 is very close. The other two occurrences in Bhavya must be related (idem, 173 and 188).

No less than three alternative versions of it have been added in the later translations of Pseudo- Vasumitra (idem, p. 243).

In the version of the Mahāvibhāṣā and in the actual list of the ‘Five Points’ given in Pseudo-Vasumitra a version is given in which an expression meaning ‘verbal enunciation’ seems to have replaced ‘enunciating dukkha’.

Certainly if the pāda could be replaced easily by one meaning: “Ce sont là tes paroles démentes”, as Ki-tsang tells us, then some word from the root vac must have been introduced—cf. P. Demiéville, op. cit., 36). Nevertheless it seems fairly likely that the verse attributed to Mahādeva would in Pāli form be similar to:

disciple. The second explanation, derived from the Mahāvibhāṣā, is that the deliberate repetition of the word ‘suffering’ can act as the necessary impulse to arouse that path. By themselves such explanations seem fairly straightforward.

What does the Kathāvatthu have to say?

The first thing to notice is that there are an additional three related topics.

The question as to whether one can hear sounds while in an attainment is closely related both conceptually and in literary form to the question as to whether one can make utterances.

Similarly the question as to whether the knowledge “this is suffering” occurs for one uttering the words “this is suffering” is clearly another formulation of the same issues. More interesting than either of these is a third point, which emerges when the literary form of the discussion of dukkhāhāro maggaṅgaṃ is examined.

The treatment of this topic is brief, but the identical form is repeated later in the second vagga. The immediate question is: “Do all those who hear the utterance (vohāra) of Lord Buddha bring into being the path?” This is part of the larger question as to whether the utterance of the Lord Buddha is transcendent (lokuttara).

This is important and must be examined, but for now it is sufficient to note that the issue in this topic is partly the question of momentariness. Can different things go on at the same time or do they occur in a rapid, sequential process? That of course is precisely the question of suttanta versus abhidhamma.

This is the hallmark of the Kathāvatthu’s treatment of many of the views which later tradition associates with the Mahāsāṅghikas.

They are again and again criticized for over- generalizing, for lack of precision or for excessive enthusiasm.

Of course, the criticism is usually in the form of asking questions rather than overt criticism but it is no less real for that.

This is what one would expect if the views current among them were suttanta formulations lacking in abhidhamma exactitude—a rather conservative doctrinal approach. In this context it is interesting to notice that the Vinaya of the Mahāsāṅghikas seems to define abhidharma as the ninefold sūtrānta. This suggests that the early Mahāsāṅghikas (or some of them) may have rejected the abhidharma developments.

Mahāsāṅghika origins

If the ‘{{Five Points[[’ and Mahādeva were not involved in the First Schism, then we are left with vinaya issues as the cause.

It has been realized for some time that it is unlikely that the Mahāsāṅghikas are directly descended from the defeated party at the second communal recitation.94 They would hardly give a favourable account of their own defeat!

It is of course quite possible that they, or some of them, originated in the same geographical area as the Vajjiputtakas and were associated with them in the minds of their opponents.

Human nature being what it is, it is perfectly credible that the Mahāsāṅghikas believed that they had preserved the original form of the Vinaya which had been altered by others. Their opponents are unlikely to have agreed.

They probably felt that things had become lax and it was necessary to restore the pristine teaching. In such a dispute historians should not take sides.95 We may be sure that each party was able to make a case for its position.

What is important is that the picture which now emerges is one in which the earliest division of the saṅgha was primarily a matter of monastic discipline. The Mahāsāṅghikas were essentially a conservative party resisting a reformist attempt to tighten discipline.

The likelihood is that they were initially the larger body, representing the mass of the community, the mahāsaṅgha. Subsequently, doctrinal disputes arose among the reformists as they grew in numbers and gathered support.

Eventually these led to divisions on the basis of doctrine.

For a very long time, however, there must have been many fraternities (nikāyas) based only on minor vinaya differences.

They would have been very much an internal affair of the saṅgha and the laity would have been hardly aware of them. Geographical differences and personalities would have been more important than doctrine.

What then of the early schools within the Mahāsāṅghikas? According to the Sammitīya tradition preserved by Bhavya the Mahāsāṅghikas divided into two schools, at a point subsequent to the origination of the Pudgalavāda.

The Dīpavaṃsa and other Pāli sources mention the same two schools as the first division of the Mahāsāṅghikas. The two schools concerned are the Kaukkuṭikas and the Ekavyavahārikas. A few sources connected with the North West mention a third: the Lokottaravādins.

This may be due to the later prominence of that school in the area of modern Afghanistan. In fact, however, it seems likely that the Lokottaravādins and the Ekavyavahārikas are two names for the same school.

The Pāli form (Gokulika) and the various translations make it clear that three distinct interpretations of the name of the Kaukkuṭikas were current. The first gives the Pāli form, but is almost certainly an error or popular etymology based on the Middle Indian form.

The second interpretation explains it as connected with the Pāli kukkuḷa (Skt. kukūla) ‘a burning ember’ or ‘a chaff fire’. The only view that the commentary to the Kathāvatthu attributes to this school is that “all constructions without exception are burning embers (kukkuḷa)”.

The Kathāvatthu criticizes this as an over-generalization.98 If this is a genuine recollection of the teachings of this school, as its context in the second vagga might suggest, then this school could have been promulgating some teachings related to insight meditation.

However, this too may well be a popular etymology. Most probably the name Kaukkuṭika originated from the name of the Kukkuṭârāma in Pāṭaliputra—a monastery associated in some sources with the Mahāsāṅghikas. This would be a school centred on that monastery.

Possibly the connection became unfamiliar when Pāṭaliputra ceased for a while to be the effective capital of India or after some destruction in that city. We can, I think, say more about the Ekavyavahārikas.

To do so, we must return to the question as to whether the utterance (vohāra) of the Lord Buddha is transcendent (lokuttara). As we saw, this is closely related to Mahādeva’s new version of the fifth ‘Point’ in the Kathāvatthu’s treatment.

What is also interesting is that it in fact deals with two distinct views. With the first, all utterance on the part of the Buddha is transcendent, just as “Both a heap of corn and a heap of gold can be pointed to with a golden rod”.

For the second view, the Buddha’s utterance is ordinary (lokiya) when he makes an utterance about ordinary things, but transcendent when he makes an utterance about transcendent things. The commentary remarks at this point that “…this is one view; it is the view nowadays of some Andhakas”.

It can then be clearly understood that the Ekavyahārikas or ‘One-utterancers’ are so called because they held the belief that Buddhas have only one kind of utterance, i.e. a transcendent utterance.

Hence too their alternative name of Lokottaravādins “those whose doctrine is transcendent” or “those who affirm the transcendent speaking (of the Buddha)”. The Kaukkuṭikas on the other hand must have espoused the alternative proposition that the Buddha had two kinds of speech. This

Possibly the inhabitants of that monastery interpreted its name as derived from the Māgadhī equivalent to Kukūla. Bhavya’s first list includes mention of a school called Kurukula supposed to be another name for the Sammitīyas. This list does not include the Kaukkuṭikas; so Kurukula is probably a rendering of their name. In BHSD we also have Kurkuṭârāma.

This could be due to invasion, but note that the Aśokâvadāna and other sources attribute the destruction of this monastery to Puṣyamitra—E. Lamotte, Histoire du Bouddhisme indien, 425–30.

seems very appropriate if we examine the two schools into which the Kaukkuṭikas appear to have divided at an early date.

The commentary does not identify any of the views found in the Kathāvatthu as belonging to these schools, but there is some information in later sources.

Taking first the school of the Bahuśrutīyas, Pseudo-Vasumitra tells us that they distinguish between the transcendent and the ordinary teaching of the Buddha.

The former consists of five words which have the power to lead out of saṃsāra: impermanence, suffering, emptiness, no-self and the peace of nirvāṇa. All other words uttered by the Buddha are his ordinary teaching.

This is clearly a development of the thesis of those opposed to the ‘One-utterancers’. It is not clear how their views differed from those of the second school, the Prajñaptivādins.

Their name could refer to some kind of doctrine concerning ‘descriptions’ or ‘concepts’, but it is perhaps more likely in the context that it concerned the Buddha’s ‘making known’ of some aspect of the teaching.

The Dīpavaṃsa knows only one further school among the Mahāsāṅghikas—the Caitya school.

According to the Sammitīya tradition given by Bhavya it is this school which was founded by Mahādeva.

It was probably the mother school, based at Amarāvati, of the later schools which the Sinhalese know as the Andhakas. The fuller form of their name means either those with a doctrine about shrines, i.e. stūpas or those who honour shrines.

The latter is supported by archaeology—the remains at Amarāvati certainly testify to an interest in stūpa symbolism. Pseudo-Vasumitra tells us that this school held that honouring stūpas does not bring much merit, which would rather support the former interpretation. Perhaps it is also relevant that there is some evidence of deprecation of the stūpa cult in certain of the early Mahāyāna sūtras.

What then is the significance of Mahādeva’s, if Mahādeva it was, alteration of the fifth Point’? To understand this, we need to turn to another aspect.

The experiential dimension

As it is presented in the suttanta literature, the enlightenment experience is the result on the one hand of meditational practice (including devotion and study) and on the other of immediate triggering events.

Traditionally, these immediate causes are expressed as the two conditions for the arising of the ariya path: teaching of dhamma by someone who has already experienced it (parato ghoso) and appropriate bringing to mind (manasikāra) on the other—the external and internal conditions which combine at an opportune moment. When such a moment arrives, the enlightenment experience can occur quite suddenly.

An individual who has had such an experience and stabilized it is an ariya, a person who is genuinely noble as opposed to merely noble by birth.

His experience is referred to as transcendent (lokuttara) and when, subsequently, he acts or speaks on the basis of that experience, his speech or action are also referred to as transcendent.

Presumably the notion is that the experience he has had and continues to have somehow suffuses and transforms his speech. This must obviously be even more true in the case of a Buddha or an arahat.

As a description of how it should appear in practice, this is not controversial for any school of early Buddhism. The problem arises when the attempt is made to give a more exact formulation.

This attempt was made in the abhidhamma literature.

Here the mind is defined as momentary and intentional in nature; a given mental event involves the knowing by a single mind of a single object.

The enlightenment experience was defined as the moment in which a transformed and hence transcendent mind, in association with the mental structuring of the path, takes as its object the element (dhātu) which is unconstructed (asaṅkhata), i.e. its basis is an experience of an aspect of reality which is uncaused and which does not construct new mental and physical events. Yet this aspect somehow acts as the support for the transformed and newly harmonious balance of mental events.

Obviously the notion of an intentional consciousness experiencing an object which is effectively without boundaries or limits raises some philosophical problems and there are differences between the various abhidhamma systems precisely at this point.

Fortunately these issues can be disregarded for the present purpose.

The important thing to note is that in general the abhidhamma systems of the Vibhajyavāda and the Sarvāstivāda do not allow the simultaneous occurrence of different consciousnesses.

In the present context this means that the experiences of hearing or speaking or bodily action or experiencing the dhamma which does not construct must all involve different objects. Speaking or hearing cannot therefore be transcendent in strict abhidhamma terms.

We should not misunderstand this. Seeing and hearing do not occur simultaneously in abhidhamma terms. Obviously, however, we seem to experience them as occurring together and in ordinary language we can speak of them as occurring at the same time. In just the same way the experience of the transcendent and sensory activity are not simultaneous. However, we could experience them in alternation as effectively occurring at the same moment.

The suttanta way of putting things is not wrong from the abhidhamma perspective. It is simply that there is a more exact form of expression which is more appropriate for the development of insight.

The reformulation of Mahādeva

We can now return to Phase Three in the evolution of the Kathāvatthu’s treatment of the ‘{{Five Points[[’.

There could be no objection to the proposition that repeating the word dukkha might sometimes act as the necessary stimulus to enlightenment and it is not obvious why the notion that its utterance might occur spontaneously at such a time would be unacceptable. Nor could the claim that the Buddha’s speech was

transcendent be rejected as such, especially not if it was limited to his speech on dhamma topics. These things can only be objected to from the abhidhamma point of view.

Not surprisingly, then, the Kathāvatthu rarely criticizes these points as such. Usually it simply attacks them as generalizations. Not everyone who pronounces the word dukkha immediately gains enlightenment regardless of their previous behaviour, nor even everyone who has developed insight! Quite often the typical abhidhamma emphasis on the impossibility of two simultaneous consciousnesses occurs.

What is interesting, however, is the precise position which is being commented on. The opponent is making a very specific claim.

The spontaneous utterance of the word ‘suffering’ occurs only in one case. It does not occur in ordinary jhāna, whether of the form or formless realms. Neither does it occur in an ordinary path attainment (strong insight of the later terminology).

Nor does it occur if the path attainment, although transcendent, is higher than the first jhāna in level. The commentary even understands that it is restricted to the path of stream-entry on the grounds of the denial that it occurs in all cases.

However, it would seem difficult to justify this position from the text.

This restriction to the first jhāna is very suggestive.

It immediately recalls the pure insight worker who achieves the jhāna level of concentration only at the moment of stream-entry and perhaps the arahat who is paññāvimutta.

This places the reformulation of the five Points’ firmly in the context of the distinction between the arahat skilled in paradhamma and the one skilled in his own dhamma. Probably then this too is part of Mahādeva’s reformulation. There are a number of reasons why this should be so.

Firstly, it seems odd to have a difference between the case of the arahat’s falling away and the other four cases. Secondly, it is easy to replace the references to paradhammakusala, etc. with those to asamayavimutta, etc. but the converse is not possible. Only the question of temporary versus non-temporary liberation is appropriate to the issue as to whether an arahat falls away.

This of course explains why the substitution could not take place in that case.

Thirdly, as suggested above, this is an unfamiliar terminology.

It must come from the opponent. Yet it is not, as far as I am aware, a Sarvāstivādin usage; it may very well, then, be Mahāsāṅghika. Fourthly, it suggests a later period when an emphasis on concern for others as a higher spiritual motivation is beginning to be formulated more specifically.

Finally, it seems to be associated with an emphasis on the value of practising the higher jhānas and the abhiññās. This is perhaps not especially characteristic of the Sarvāstivādins.

It is certainly characteristic of the Yogācārins and it may be suggested that this may be a feature in which they were influenced by the Mahāsāṅghikas.

There is some reason to believe that practice of the jhānas is of great antiquity and the Mahāsāṅghikas, or this branch of them, may well have been conservative in this respect as well as others.

Frauwallner has suggested that the Yogācārins must have taken over many of the non-Sarvāstivādin aspects of the Mahāyānist abhidharma system from an earlier system. It would not be very surprising if that source proved to be the Mahāsāṅghikas of central India, an area that seems to have gone over to the Mahāyāna en masse at a relatively early date.

The two key features of Asaṅga’s abhidharma are the acceptance of the possibility of more than one consciousness at a time and the introduction of the notion of the ālayavijñāna.

The former might very well have been part of Mahādeva’s formulation, to judge by the Kathāvatthu’s criticisms, while the latter was attributed by the Yogācārins precisely to earlier concepts of the Sinhalese school and of the Mahāsāṅghikas.

It would not be at all unexpected if the Vibhajyavādin concept of the bhavaṅga consciousness, already current in the later canonical Abhidhamma period, was taken over or shared in some form by their neighbours, the southern Mahāsāṅghikas.

Can we then assess precisely how and why the ‘{{Five Points[[’ were reformulated by Mahādeva? I think the answer is yes. His argument must have run something like this.

There are two ways of practising—a selfish one in which you are concerned with getting your own enlightenment as quickly as possible and a more altruistic approach with more concern for others.

In the latter case you must develop the jhānas and the higher attainments. There are serious snags to the selfish approach.

You can be subjected to material assistance, even harassment by Māras.

You can lack crucial understanding and have doubt as to your own achievement. You may also lack the information you need to help others. You could well require the aid of others in order to reach your goal or at any rate to finalize it.

Because your concentration development is limited, you may need to verbalize your insight meditation in order to stimulate the necessary absorption or to compensate for the absence of teaching by another person when it is required. None of this will be necessary if you develop the jhānas in order to become an arahat skilled in paradhamma.

Clearly there must have been more to it than this. Obviously the fact that it was felt necessary to reorganize the Kathāvatthu treatment of the ‘Five Points’ indicates at the least that the old formulation had lost relevance, presumably because of the success of Mahādeva’s new version.

We may guess however that a more substantial development of some kind would be required.

Most probably a Mahāsāṅghika (or Andhaka) version of abhidhamma had been created on the lines suggested above. Very probably many of its key features are recorded in the Kathāvatthu.

It may eventually be possible to reconstruct it but the task is formidable. The attributions of the commentary cannot be trusted without confirmation. The later literature on the schools reflects a later situation when the Mahāsāṅghikas had largely adopted the Mahāyāna.

Sarvāstivādin writers may attribute Mahāyānist notions to the Mahāsāṅghikas in order to discredit one or both. Mahāyānist writers of a later date (e.g. Paramārtha) associate the two in order to show the antiquity of the Mahāyāna.

Probably most later Mahāsāṅghikas believed that their particular tradition had always been Mahāyānist.

It is however clear that the Mahāyāna cannot be this early.113 That is to say, Mahāyāna as a movement distinct from and opposed to the early schools cannot be. Undoubtedly some of the tendencies which led to the Mahāyāna literature were already extant. To reconstruct the ideas of the early Mahāsāṅghikas we will have to discount this material and draw instead on the Kathāvatthu and the early Sarvāstivādin literature.

Chronological aspects

The three phases in the development of abhidhamma discussion which have been identified (section 10 above) can be approximately located in time. The Sammatīya tradition cited by Bhavya would suggest that Phase One might correspond to the period of debates at and just before the Mauryan period. Phase Two would be

See now G. Schopen, “The Inscription on the Kuṣān Image of Amitābha and the Character of the Early Mahāyāna in India”, JIABS, 1987, 99–137 and P. Harrison, “Who Gets to Ride in the Great Vehicle? Self-image and Identity Among the Followers of the Early Mahāyāna”, JIABS, 1987, 67–89.

during the Mauryan period and Phase Three at the end of the Mauryan period. The Pāli sources would locate the second phase in the reign of Aśoka. The third phase must then be later.

The Pāli sources and the Sammatīya tradition are in that case approximately in line.

There is, however, no way in which this can be reconciled with the Sarvāstivādin sources according to which the divisions among the Sthaviras do not begin until a hundred years after the accession of Aśoka.

It does not seem possible in the present state of historical knowledge to reach a firm decision either way. Perhaps, however, the balance of advantage still lies with the long chronology. Certain things follow, it seems, from whichever choice is made.

If the long chronology is correct, then the Sarvāstivādin traditions as to the date of the works contained in their own Abhidharmapiṭaka may not be correct. We should probably date some of the later works earlier than tradition claims. Their dates will have been brought down in time to fit a shorter period than was actually the case.

Conversely, if the Sarvāstivādin tradition is correct, then certain aspects of the Sinhalese tradition cannot be accepted. In particular it will be difficult to accept the claim that the Pāli canonical texts were set in writing for the first time at the end of the reign of Vaṭṭagāmaṇi Abhaya (89–77 BC) after a Tamil invasion leading to a period of Tamil rule and soon after the separation of the Abhayagirikas from the Mahāvihāra.

As Bechert has commented, “…beginning with that period [second century BC] the Ceylonese chronicles can be considered as highly reliable sources of historical information”. They are in fact often confirmed by archaeological evidence. Given that this is the case, it is difficult to reject their testimony about events in Ceylon.

Bechert has recently revived the suggestion that there are indications of the presence of the short chronology in Ceylon at an early date.116 This, I think, is mistaken, but there is evidence of a slightly different version of the long chronology.

Most Ceylonese sources date the accession of Aśoka to 218 BE and the third communal recitation to 236 BE (i.e. 218 + 18). The commentary to the first book of the Abhidhammapiṭaka, the Aṭṭhasālinī three times states that Moggaliputta Tissa promulgated the Kathāvatthu in 218 BE.

This strongly suggests that there may have been an earlier tradition which dated the third communal recitation to 218 BE.

The precise authorship of the Aṭṭhasālinī is debated but it is clear that, whether it was an early work of Buddhaghosa himself or the work of an associate, it is less carefully edited than most of the other commentaries and sometimes preserves earlier traditions which have been normalized elsewhere. It we turn to the Samantapāsādika, we find an account of the legend of Moggaliputta Tissa.

This begins with the Elders of the second communal recitation searching the future to see if the sāsana will have such a scandal again. They see that “in the 118th year from now” a king named Dhammāsoka will arise, will generously give support, and many non-Buddhist mendicants (titthiya) will enter the sāsana and cause such an affair.

The Elders decide to visit the future Moggaliputta who is at that time dwelling in the Brahmā world. They inform him that there would be a great scandal in the sāsana “in the 118th year from now”.

So we see that both the accession of Aśoka and the third communal recitation are attributed to 218 BE. Very probably this is the tradition that the Sinhalese found in the old commentary to the Abhidhammapiṭaka when they set out to determine the chronology of past events.

The Mahāvaṃsa gives an account of the life of Aśoka first and so only refers back to the elders’ beholding the future, but it then goes on to the story of their visit to the future Moggaliputta and gives the same prediction of a time of trouble ‘after 118 years’.

The Dīpavaṃsa simply begins with the prophecy regarding Moggaliputta: “That monk, an exemplary samaṇa, will arise 118 years in the future”.122 It is clear that the reason that no introductory account is given is that the ācariyavāda has been inserted between the prophecy and the first account of the second communal recitation. Nevertheless it clearly belongs in the context we find in the Samantapāsādikā.

It must belong in the same context here, since the parinibbāna of the Elders of the second communal recitation is immediately mentioned, which would be unnecessary if the prophecy was by the Buddha.

This cannot then be evidence of the presence of the short chronology. It is simply that the earlier prediction of the ‘time of trouble’ has become a prediction of the ‘arising’ of Moggaliputta.

The other passage in the Dīpavaṃsa which is cited as evidence for the short chronology occurs in the first chapter. The first communal recitation is mentioned; then the next śloka declares: “118 years after that will be the third recension.”

As Oldenberg points out in his edition, the simplest explanation for this is that a śloka which mentioned the second communal recitation has dropped out.

This passage, then, like the Aṭṭhasālinī passage mentioned above is evidence for the date of 218 BE for the third communal recitation. The only other evidence known to me for the short chronology in Ceylonese sources is a verse attributed to the ‘Ancients’ (Porāṇā) in the late fourteenth century Saddhamma-saṅgaha.

However, this text refers to verses from the Cūlavaṃsa as by the ‘Ancients’; so it is not evidence for an early date. Moreover, it has not been critically edited and the verse concerned is easily amended.

There is, then, no reason to believe that the short chronology was known in ancient Ceylon, but considerable support for the existence of a tradition that the third communal recitation took place 118 years after the second.

One might guess that originally the commentorial tradition recorded the same figure for both the king and the recitation. Subsequently it was realized that this was unlikely and the date of the recitation was moved a further eighteen years on. It seems better to adopt the reverse procedure.

This would suggest that the accession of Aśoka took place about a hundred years after the second communal recitation (assuming that the third recitation took place about eighteen years later).

However, it is more likely that the figure is notional and slightly exaggerated as with the second communal recitation. In this case the accession of Aśoka should have taken place between about 140 and 160 BE (70/80 + 70/80).

This has the virtue of bringing the Sinhalese traditions into line with Bhavya’s Sammatīya account. If we date Aśoka’s accession at 52 years after the accession of Candragupta in c. 313 BC,128 then the work of the founder of the Pudgalavādins will take place around 261 BC with Moggaliputta’s response and the third communal recitation, if there was one, at c. 243 BC.

The beginning of the controversies would be 63 years before Aśoka, i.e. c. 324 BC under Mahāpadma Nanda. We know of course that a Nanda was ruling in Magadha at the time of Alexander’s invasion (327–324 BC).

This would imply a date for the beginning of the Buddhist era between 400 and 420 BC. Other evidence would also seem to support a date close to the end of the fifth century BC.129

It may be suggested that one reason why the length of time has been increased is an attempt to fit a king list with the Buddhist traditions. It seems most unlikely that the Buddhist saṅgha would have preserved a list of the kings of Magadha together with their regnal years.

When the Sinhalese found a need for such a list, there is only one place they could have got it: the brahmins.

If there is a general similarity between the Sinhalese tradition and that in the Purāṇas, it is because the Sinhalese got it from the Purāṇas or from where the Purāṇas got it. In fact we have no certainty of the existence of any other source from which they could have got it.

Summary

Sections 1–4 examine the historical problems and background, suggest a date of around 70–80 BE for the Council of Vaiśāli and discuss the available sources of information on the early Buddhist schools.

The significance for this of the ‘{{Five Points[[’ is indicated. A discussion of the date of the Kathāvatthu indicates a stage in which there was a three-way controversy: Sarvāstivāda, Pudgalavāda and Vibhajyavāda.

Sections 5–10 examine the first four ‘Points’ in detail and seek to show that in their original form the fifth ‘Point’ was the question as to whether an arahat can fall away. The logical structure of the original ‘{{Five Points[[’ is indicated and it is suggested that in this form they were probably Sarvāstivādin. Three phases in the development of the Kathāvatthu are proposed.

Sections 11–14 examine the fifth ‘Point’ and explore its connection with the Mahādeva associated with the development of the later (southern) Mahāsāṅghika schools.

Evidence from the Kathāvatthu is brought to bear on the nature of the earliest Mahāsāṅghika schools.

The new formulation of the ‘{{Five Points[[’ is examined and suggestions are made as to the nature of the new developments among the Mahāsāṅghikas. In particular, trends to emphasize the altruistic value of developing the higher jhānas and a new formulation of a Mahāsāṅghika abhidharma seem likely.

Section 15 examines the chronological implications. Evidence in the Ceylon sources is advanced to support the existence of an early tradition dating the ‘Third Council’ to 218 BE. The suggestion that there is evidence for a ‘short chronology’ tradition in the Pāli sources is refuted.

See K.R. Norman, “Observations on the Dates of the Buddha and the Jina” (to be published in a volume on the date of the Buddha edited by H. Bechert).

Addendum

In late 1989 Professor Richard Gombrich circulated a paper on the date of the Buddha.130 He has kindly given permission for it to be referred to here prior to publication.

In this paper he has offered an ingenious reinterpretation of the data given in the Dīpavaṃsa and has convincingly shown that the information given there on the ages of the teachers in the vinaya lineage of Mahinda (traditionally interpreted as their age since ordination) is better and more consistently interpreted as their age since birth (or conception).

This produces a date for the accession of Aśoka of c. 136 BE (with a margin of uncertainty due to the addition of a series of life-spans given in figures rounded to whole years).

Gombrich takes the date of the accession of Aśoka to be c. 268 BC and therefore suggests that the Buddha’s death took place “within six or even five” years of 404 BC. His argument can, I believe, be taken one step further.

Gombrich discards all data given in the Pāli chronicles as to regnal years. This seems in general appropriate. However, the information in chapter five of the Dīpavaṃsa about the date of accession of Candragupta is likely to have been handed down as part of the vinaya lineage.

If so, Candragupta ascended the throne in c.100 BE.132 Taking the accession of Candragupta to occur in c. 313 BC, the following approximate chronology arises:

Could this be the source of some of the ‘short chronology’ traditions? The later more familiar name of Aśoka could have been substituted for that of Candragupta.

The story in Sp of the Elders of the second communal recitation visiting Moggaliputta Tissa in the Brahmā world and requesting him to take birth now fits in very well (see pp. 47–48 above).

The five Greek kings mentioned in the 13th Rock Edict would then be: 1. The Seleucid Antiochus I (281/280–261 BC) or Antiochus II (261–246 BC) 2. Ptolemy II of Egypt (285/283–246 BC) 3. Antigonus II of Macedonia (276–239 BC) 4. Alexander II of Epirus (from 272/271 BC—date of death not known) 5. Magas of Cyrenaica (c. 275–c. 250 BC).

The Edict could not have been inscribed before the accession of Alexander of Epirus in 272/271 BC nor much after 250 BC.

Although these dates are only approximate, they offer a real possibility of establishing a definitive chronology, if new archaeological or other information should come to light.

The reason why the Ceylon chronicles went astray is now clear. They must have had access to brahmanical traditions on the regnal years of the kings of Magadha (as well as to a northern account of the development of the ‘eighteen’ schools).

They constructed (in the Mahāvaṃsa or its sources) a new, more consistent chronology in an attempt to reconcile their own traditions (which must have been based on the lineage of Mahinda) with the new data. Ironically, it transpires that they would have been better advised to be less open to overseas influences and keep their own tradition.