Abhinavagupta and the metaphisics of light

SUHRAWARDĪ, ABHINAVAGUTPA, AND THE METAPHYSICS OF LIGHT
by
Kirk Templeton
A Dissertation Submitted to the Faculty
of the California Institute of Integral Studies
in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of
Doctor of Philosophy in Philosophy and Religion with a concentration in
Asian and Comparative Studies
California Institute of Integral Studies
San Francisco, CA
2013

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CERTIFICATE OF APPROVAL
I certify that I have read SUHRAWARDĪ, ABHINAVAGUTPA, AND THE
METAPHYSICS OF LIGHT by Kirk Templeton and that in my opinion this work
meets the criteria for approving a dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of
the requirements for the Doctor of Philosophy in Philosophy and Religion with a
concentration in Asian and Comparative Studies at the California Institute of
Integral Studies.
Jim Ryan, Ph.D., Chair,
Professor, Asian and Comparative Studies
Bahman Shirazi, Ph.D.
Faculty, Integral Counseling Psychology
Mohammad Azadpur, Ph.D.
San Francisco State University

iv
Kirk Templeton
California Institute of Integral Studies, 2013
Jim Ryan, Ph.D., Committee Chair
SUHRAWARDĪ, ABHINAVAGUTPA, AND THE METAPHYSICS OF LIGHT
ABSTRACT
The doctrine of the metaphysics of Light was a powerful current of
thought that flowed through Western philosophy from ancient times down
through the Renaissance. It taught that reality was essentially and
fundamentally Light, not in a metaphorical but in a proper sense. Moreover, this
Light was understood to both emanate being and illuminate cognition.
The purpose of this dissertation is to investigate the possibility that the
doctrine of the metaphysics of Light also appeared in the systems of two other
philosophers: Shihāb al-Din Suhrawardī, a Persian philosopher of the 12th
century, and Abhinavagupta, a great Kashmir Śaivite philosopher of the 10th
century. Suhrawardī worked within the Islamic philosophical tradition and so
had direct historical connections with the Neoplatonic sources of the
metaphysics of Light in the West. He also claimed Persian, Egyptian, Babylonian,
and Indian sources for his Light doctrine. Abhinavagupta had no attested
historical connections with either Suhrawardī or Neoplatonism. Yet there are
remarkable and striking similarities in the systems of Suhrawardī and
Abhinavagupta in both ontology and epistemology that identify them with the

v
doctrine of the metaphysics of Light. The situation with regard to cosmology is
more complex. Suhrawardī enunciates a system of emanation similar to that of
his Neoplatonic forbearers. Abhinavagupta enunciates a system of emanation,
but its categories are radically different from Neoplatonism. Combined with
Suhrawardī’s invocation of ancient sources, this suggests that both Suhrawardī
and Abhinavagupta taught a true metaphysics of Light, but that the context of
the doctrine itself should be extended beyond Neoplatonism to include
traditions from Iran and India.

vi
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost, my deepest thanks go to my guru and fellow śakta
Jim Ryan, who first introduced me to the wonders of Indian thought, and whose
patience and wisdom have guided me throughout this project. He embodies in
fullest measure the ideal of the integral scholar. I owe a similar profound debt to
Mohammad Azadpur, who opened the treasure house of Islamic philosophy to
me. Bahman Shirazi has been a constant source of deep insight and knowledge
expressed with a constant and gentle grace and good humor. I must also
acknowledge Mark Dyczkowski, who has honored me with both his teaching and
friendship, and John Glanville, my magister in the magnificent edifice of
Thomism. Both my Sanskrit and spirit have benefitted immeasurably from the
teaching and friendship of Shanta and Indira Bulkin. No scholar’s work is his
alone and to the extent that there is any virtue and value in these pages, it
derives in great measure from what I have gleaned from the scholarship and
support of my collegues at CIIS, especially Stephan Julich, Aaron Weiss, Sean
MacCracken, and Kundan Singh. Finally I must thank my daughter Sara, whose
love and laughter have lighted my way on our travels together along the Golden
Road to Samarkand.

vii
ॐ ऐँश्री सरस्वत्यै नमः
स्तौमम त्ववां त्ववां च वन्दे
मम खलु रसन ां नो कद चित्
त्यजेथ ाः

viii
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Abstract...................................................................................................................iv
Acknowledgements.................................................................................................vi
Chapter 1: Introduction .......................................................................................... 1
Purpose and Contribution of the Study ........................................................ 9
Review of Scholarship ................................................................................. 12
Methodological Considerations .................................................................. 22
Limitations of the Study .............................................................................. 31
Structure of the Study................................................................................. 35
Chapter 2: The Historical Context......................................................................... 38
Neoplatonism and Indian Philosophy: The Question of Influence ............. 41
Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta in Historical Context ................................ 55
Suhrawardī: Life and Works ........................................................................ 76
The Historical Context of the Metaphysics of Light in Suhrawardī’s
Ḥikmat al-Ishrāq.......................................................................................... 81
Abhinavagupta: Life and Works ................................................................ 114
The Historical Context of Light in Abhinavagupta’s Anuttara Trika
Kula............................................................................................................ 119
Conclusions Concerning the Question of Context .................................... 130
Chapter 3: Light and Being.................................................................................. 136
Light and Being in Suhrawardī’s Ḥikmāt al-Ishrāq .................................... 140
Light and Being in Abhinavagupta’s Anuttara Trika Kula.......................... 160
Comparing Being and Light in Suhrawardī’s Ḥikmat al-Ishrāq and
Abhinavagupa’s Anuttara Trika Kula......................................................... 178
Chapter 4: Light and Cognition ........................................................................... 186
Light and Cognition in Suhrawardī’s Ḥikmāt al-Ishrāq.............................. 192

ix
Light and Cognition in Abhinavagupta’s Anuttara Trika Kula................... 206
Comparing Light and Cognition in Suhrawardī’s Ḥikmat al-Ishrāq and
Abhinavaguta’s Anuttara Trika Kula ......................................................... 223
Chapter 5: Light and Emanation ......................................................................... 227
Light and Emanation in Suhrawardī’s Ḥikmāt al-Ishrāq............................ 232
Light and Emanation in Abhinavagupta’s Anuttara Trika Kula................. 240
Comparing Light and Emanation in Suhrawardī’s Ḥikmat al-Ishrāq
and Abhinavagupta’s Anuttara Trika Kula ................................................ 251
Chapter 6: Conclusion......................................................................................... 261
References .......................................................................................................... 278
Appendix A: Abbreviation Key ............................................................................ 292

1
CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION
The term “metaphysics of light” was first coined by Clemens Baeumker in
1916 (McVoy, Grossteste 87). It has been employed ever since in studies of the
Western history of philosophy to designate a powerful and pervasive current of
philosophical, mystical, and theological thought that runs right through
European culture from ancient times down to the Renaissance. In terms of
scholarly practice, it has been used most often, perhaps, within the study of
medieval philosophy, but even there it has been admitted of having a wider
application.
The purpose of this study is to investigate the possibility that the doctrine
of the metaphysics of Light also appeared in the systems of two other
philosophers: Shihāb al-Din Suhrawardī, a Persian philosopher of the 12th
century CE, and Abhinavagupta, the great Kashmir Śaivite philosopher of the
10th century CE. The possibility of extending the doctrine to non-Western
philosophers in this way may also have implications for how the doctrine is
understood within the Western academy and this issue is also examined.
In Western scholarship, the doctrine is typically traced to Greek
philosophy, for as a major scholar of the tradition, James McVoy, has written:
“As a symbol for human knowledge, the interplay of light and sight is
omnipresent in Greek intellectual culture and its heirs” (“Light” 126). Arguably,
elements of the doctrine could be found in Parmenides (fl. 5th century BCE) with
his use of light and darkness as cosmological principles (Notopoulos 169). While

2
Plato (429–327 BCE) was not himself an explicit exponent of the doctrine, his
treatment of light and the sun were so seminal that the metaphysics of Light1
has been associated with Platonism ever since (McVoy “Light” 126–27). As
Goodenough demonstrates throughout his classic study By Light, Light, Philo of
Alexandria (20 BCE–50 CE) taught the doctrine, along with other Middle
Platonists such as Clement of Alexandria (c. 150–215 CE) and Origen (184–234
CE) (Berchman 194). With Plotinus (204–270 CE) the doctrine reaches perhaps
its most paradigmatic expression (Yhap 78), becoming almost a defining feature
of Neoplatonism, especially in the works of Iamblichus (242–327 CE) and Proclus
(412–485 CE) (Johnston 8–13).
The Metaphysics of Light was a basic tenet of the Islamic Peripatetic
tradition, which also had its roots in Neoplatonism, being fundamental to the
systems of both Al-Farabī (870–c. 950) and Ibn Sinā (c. 980–1037) (Nasr Islamic
160). As with much else in the Greek tradition, Islamic philosophy not only
became the predominant repository of the doctrine and the vehicle of its
development, but also was the major source of its transmission to the Latin West
in the 12th and 13th centuries (Druart “Philosophy” 97–120; Knowles 193–205).
1
As will become apparent, the doctrine of the metaphysics of Light distinguishes the
metaphysical Principle of Light from the physical light that affects our sense of vision. In
this study I follow the practice of certain other scholars in capitalizing the former usage
and leaving the latter in lower case. Examples of this practice would include Corbin’s
Spiritual Body and Celestial Earth, Dyczkowski’s Doctrine of Vibration, Nasr’s Islamic
Cosmological Doctrines and Three Muslim Sages and Yazdi’s Principles of Islamic
Epistmology. The vocabulary of Latin enabled Grosseteste to distinguish the two as
lumen and lux.

3
The other profound influence on the development of the medieval metaphysics
of Light was another one of its paramount exponents, St. Augustine (354–430
CE) (Knowles 49). In medieval scholasticism, the metaphysics of Light flourished
most significantly between c. 1220 and 1270 CE. As Pasnau records while
discussing thirteenth century Franciscans in his article on “Divine Illumination,”
the name of St. Bonaventure (1221–1274 CE) is especially associated with it but
Robert Grossteste (1175–1253 CE) also enunciated it in a particularly
thoroughgoing yet innovative form. His De Luce has been considered to be the
only significant work of scientific cosmogony between Plato’s Timaeus and the
18th century and is thought to have laid the foundation for modern
mathematical physics (Zajonc 53). In Scholasticism after the 13th century the
doctrine was found only among the German mystics and Nicolas of Cusa (1401–
1464 CE) (J. Hopkins 28). It was revived in Renaissance by Marsilio Ficino (1433–
1499), Giordano Bruno (1548–1600), and Franceso Patrizzi (1529–1597). It also
appeared among the Cambridge Platonists (mid-17th century). Yet by the time
of the rise of rationalism the doctrine was, with a few very marginalized
exceptions, extinct in Western intellectual culture.2
The claim that Suhrawardī also embraced the metaphysics of Light is not
at all a difficult to sustain because he was member of the Islamic philosophical
tradition and so a Neoplatonist. Thus he was part of the lineage that articulated
2
I discuss some of the reasons for this change in Chapter 4 of this study.

4
the doctrine of the metaphysics of Light within Islamic intellectual culture, even
though his self-defined role within that lineage was that of critic and reformer.
Much of what makes Suhrawardī interesting and important in terms of the
metaphysics of Light is that he expresses it in an extremely pure, even radical
form, adopting in his major work an entirely Light-based philosophical
vocabulary to replace the standard terminology of the Islamic tradition—a
terminology that even he himself had used in earlier works. He is also
interesting because in articulating his version of the metaphysics of Light in his
masterwork The Philosophy of Illumination (ḤI)3
, he asserts that the doctrine is
primordial, an ancient wisdom known to the sages of Egypt, Greece, Persia, and
India (165).
Abhinavagupta is a different story. For, unlike Suhrawardī, he has no
attested historical connection whatsoever with the main current of the tradition
of the metaphysics of Light, rooted as it is Neoplatonism in the West.4 Therefore
any justification to include him as an exponent of the doctrine must rest on the
analysis of philosophical doctrine alone.
The purpose of this study is to do just that: investigate the possibility of
extending the term “metaphysics of Light” to include Abhinavagupta’s system by
means of a comparative study between it and Suhrawardī’s. This investigation
3
For a key to all abbreviations used in citing texts and documents, see Appendix A.
4
This is one of the things that makes Suhrawardī’s assertion of a primordial tradition
which includes India intriguing.

5
will also have larger philosophical implications. As Frits Staal justly observes,
“whereas the comparative study of religions has no pretention of being itself a
religion, comparative philosophy is, according to the term, philosophy” (2). In
undertaking this project I am also implicitly taking a philosophical position.
When discussing the metaphysics of Light McVoy remarked that there are “great
metaphysical systems which repose on a single concept possessed of a richness
or magnetic force sufficient to ground a whole system of ideas” (“Light” 126). By
investigating the possibility of extending the scope of the doctrine to include
Abhinavagupta, I am implicitly asserting that such concepts can transcend
cultural boundaries and the metaphysics of Light is one that does so, that it
might have a place on what Scharfstein calls “a kind of periodic table of the
elements of philosophy” (7). This assertion in turn implies that the way the
doctrine of the metaphysics of Light itself is understood may change in order to
accommodate a broader, non-Western context.
In performing this investigation I am assisted by the fact that the
metaphysics of Light is not a myth or metaphor or poetry, but a philosophical
doctrine. It asserts some very particular things about reality and it does so in a
very particular way. Essentially, as the name of the doctrine indicates, it holds
that reality is ultimately Light. Moreover, the doctrine asserts that Light both
emanates being and illuminates cognition. Turning once more to McVoy:
To come now to the central issue of the metaphysics of light, the
identification of the divine nature, and consequently of created reality
olformulated as follows: God is light in a proper and not merely a

6
metaphorical sense; the essence of light lies in spiritual being rather than
corporeal; in the visible world, light is the first, subtlest and most active
of material elements, and hence closest to immaterial nature.…Light,
then, is not a mere metaphor for the unsayable, but a concept which
names intelligible reality properly and fittingly. (“Light” 139)
Light is not exclusively or even primarily the physical light which is the object of
the studies of optics and electromagnetism. That physical light is only one of its
manifestations, albeit a particularly important one. The true and actual Light is
the underlying Principle of Reality which both gives things their being and makes
them knowable, in the same way that the light of the sun both nourishes life and
enables us to see.
The metaphysics of Light thus combines epistemology with its ontology.
The Light reveals both Itself and Its object. Thus, a characteristic and defining
element of the doctrine is a cognitio infusa, the direct illumination of the human
intellect by this all-pervading and encompassing Light. This aspect of the
doctrine was so prevalent that it also has its own designation in Western studies
of the history of philosophy: the doctrine of divine illumination. As I discuss in
Chapter 2 of this study, in its characteristic formulation as the theory of the
active intellect, the doctrine of divine illumination held sway over philosophy in
Europe and West and Central Asia for over a millennium. It is a characteristic
and integral element of the larger doctrine. What McVoy says in reference to
the medieval period applies generally: “The illumination-theory of the 13th
century cannot be understood as a mere theory of knowledge, but only as the

7
epistemological expression of a metaphysical view of being and activity,
participation and order—in short of the metaphysics of light” (“Light” 139).
In addition to ontology and epistemology, there was a third component
of the metaphysics of Light, at least as was understood and taught by Neo-
platonic traditions. The qualification is necessary because this is not true of
medieval scholasticism. The third component is the doctrine of emanation, and
this was in fact specifically condemned by the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215.
The reason for this will soon become evident.
The doctrine of emanation is essentially a way to unite transcendence
and immanence. In the physical world the light from a single source—the sun—
illuminates a multitude of objects for the eye in all their diversity of form and
color, yet in illuminating them, it remains itself unchanged. In emanationism this
image is taken to represent the relationship of the single, absolute and
transcendent ground of being to the phenomenal world of being and becoming
and human experience.
This is not a temporal process but a formal one. It is considered to be
outside space and time as well as being beyond Being itself. The cosmological
structure whereby the First Principle of Reality emanates all things is a
continuum expressed as gradations of degrees of actuality. It is often
understood as a hierarchy whereby all things are ranked according to their
degree of proximity to the fundamental Principle. Since the emanation is a
continuum, the Principle is manifesting out of Itself and so what it manifests

8
must also remain in some sense finally Itself. Just as the rays of the sun are not
the sun but they are also nothing but the sun, so in the doctrine of emanation all
manifestation has an essential, if qualified, existential identity with its Principle.
This understanding of cosmogony was of course the reason for the
condemnations by the medieval Church, for such a doctrine flatly contradicted
the dogma of a separate creation by God ex nihilo. Islam and Judaism also
taught a separate creation, but elements within the intellectual traditions of
these faiths were able to accommodate the doctrine of emanation in their
versions of the metaphysics of Light. As Seyyed Hossein Nasr explains:
[The doctrine of Emanation] is alien to the exoteric element of
monotheistic traditions in which the absolute distinction between the
Creator and the creature is preserved. In Islam the doctrine of
emanation, or effusion, therefore, can be understood and integrated only
in the esoteric aspect of the Tradition. (Cosmological 202)
The same is true of the Jewish tradition: emanation appears there, but only in
Kabbalah. However, the philosophical and theological elements of Christianity
had no legitimately recognized, or even quasi-legitimately recognized, esoteric
component. Therefore emanation could only appear in mysticism such as
Eckhart’s, and even there not without considerable controversy (he was
condemned in 1329).5
5
McVoy’s hero Grossteste is an interesting case. In Grossteste’s version of the doctrine
the Light which constitutes all of reality is described as being “self-defusing”—which is
simply emanation by another name. As far as creation is concerned: “We can study the
light that God’s word made, but may not forget that God makes light, because he is light
in his own nature” (“Light” 134—italics in original).

9
For purposes of this study, however, the doctrine of Emanation will be
taken as an element of the metaphysics of Light. This procedure is adopted
because it was an essential feature of the doctrine in its Neoplatonic version,
which is generally taken to be paradigmatic. However, it will turn out that the
Christian version of the doctrine of the metaphysics of Light, with no emanation,
will be of some importance in my final discussion. This then, is the framework
within which this study’s investigation occurs: a philosophical doctrine
containing the three interrelated elements of Light and being, Light and
congnition, and Light and emanation.
Purpose and Contribution of the Study
The purpose of this study is to compare the philosophical systems of
Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta with a focus on their treatment of the
metaphysics of Light. The research question investigated is to what extent is it
legitimate to include their systems within the extension of “the doctrine of the
metaphysics of Light,” a category that has been principally applied to a current of
philosophical thought in European intellectual history. This investigation
includes consideration of the extent to which so including them may change the
defining characteristics or intension of the doctrine itself.
Both of these philosophers are still relatively unknown, and a
comparative study between them and their traditions has never yet been
undertaken. Besides its intrinsic interest for scholars of Suhrawardī and

10
Abhinavagupta, this study breaks new ground and offers the prospect of
broadening and enriching the scholarly discourse in a number of areas.
First there is the field of the history of ideas, especially in Western
civilization and culture. The metaphysics of Light is one of the most neglected
areas in the Western philosophical canon, yet one of the more important. The
decisive rejection of the doctrines of the metaphysics of Light and divine
illumination after their predominance for over a millennia is one of the most
significant turning points in the history of Western intellectual culture, yet both
the doctrines and their historical importance are relatively unknown. If this
study does no more than increase acquaintance and possible interest in these
areas, to that extent alone its effect will be salutary.
The study is also of benefit to scholars of the doctrine of metaphysics of
Light. The works of these scholars mostly focus on medieval and to some extent
Islamic philosophers, mostly Avicenna. By extending the realm of discourse to
Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta and engaging in a comparative analysis of the
doctrine in their systems, this study may serve to enrich the discourse with
additional insights into the structure and meaning of the doctrine itself.
In the area of Suhrawardī studies, comparison with Abhinavagupta’s
thoughts may similarly yield fresh perspectives. Suhrawardī scholarship is
enlivened—if that is the correct word—by controversy having to do with the role
of Persian thought and symbol in Suhrawardī’s thought, especially in relationship

11
to Greek influence. By shifting the focus eastward, as it were, this study will
contribute to that discussion, even if it is only by adding fuel to the fires.
Another contribution lies in the fact that this is a comparative study of an
Islamic and an Indian philosopher. As Sayyed Hossein Nasr points out: “Rarely
does one find serious comparative studies made of Islamic philosophy with those
of India and the Far East” (“Significance” 3). This lack is especially to be
regretted since Islamic culture can be credited with producing the first works of
comparative philosophy with Abū Rayhān al-Bīrūnī (973–1048) and his most
famous works of this kind concerned India.
As a comparative study between a Persian and an Indian philosopher
who lived during the 10th-11th centuries CE, this study will also have relevance
to the re-evaluation of Persia’s role in the cultural history of Eurasia which is
beginning to emerge within the Western academy. This view increasingly
recognizes what has been called a “Persian Cosmopolis” in which a full range of
cultural influences were diffused throughout Africa, Central Eurasia and East Asia
as a coherent whole from the 9th through 19th centuries CE.6 Of particular
importance in this regard is the fact that (as I discuss in Chapter 2) although
there is no attested relationship between the systems of these two philosophers
during the period when they were produced, Suhrawardī’s illuminationist
doctrine was a central pillar of the Delhi Sultanate under Akbar some centuries
6
For a recent discussion see Eaton (“Revisiting”).

12
later. A comparative study of Light in the systems of Suhrawardī and
Abhinavagupta can contribute to the growing understanding of the complex flow
of ideas and influence that characterized the central Eurasian cultural complex
during this entire period.
Although there have been comparative studies of Platonism and Indian
philosophy since the beginning of the last century, to date there has been much
less work that focuses on either Islamic Neoplatonism or Kashmir Śaivism than
there has been in areas such as Plotinus and Advaita Vedānta. Here again this
study will widen and, hopefully, enrich the discourse. Simply by broadening the
extension of the term “metaphysics of Light” to include an Indian philosopher,
this study contributes to the scholarly conversation concerning both the
universality of philosophy as such and, given that there is something called
“world philosophy,” the possibility of universal ideas within it.
Review of Scholarship
There have been no previous comparative studies of Suhrawardī and
Abhinavagupta; mine is the first. The same is true for cross-cultural studies of
the doctrine of the metaphysics of Light. So in these areas no prior scholarship
exists to review.
In a somewhat broader context, there has been a history of comparative
studies between Platonism and Indian philosophy going back over the last
century, and very recently these have included a study directly comparing
Neoplatonism with Kashmir Śaivism (Just), but these are so deeply involved with

13
the question of historical context and cross-cultural influence that I have
deemed it more appropriate to deal with them in Chapter 2 of this study. In
terms of a review of existing scholarship, this leaves work that has separately
addressed Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta.
The pre-eminent figure in the study of Suhrawardī in modern Western
scholarship is Henry Corbin (1903–1978) who essentially introduced it there. His
work still casts its influence over the entire field. In the mid-20th century, Corbin
worked relentlessly to translate, edit and study Suhrawardī’s works and thought,
producing the three volume translation Opera Metaphysica et Mystica in the
1940s and 1950s. His work has also engendered controversy within the very
field that he himself founded, with scholars dividing themselves into two schools
of thought, one of which he led and another that took a profoundly critical view
of his teachings.
This controversy is often framed as being over the question of whether
Suhrawardī was a philosopher or a mystic. This is a gross oversimplification.
Corbin himself and his school, represented by scholars such as Seyyed Hossein
Nasr, Mehdi Aminrazavi, and Tom Cheetham, do indeed emphasize the mystical,
esoteric and, as they like to describe it, “theosophical” elements of his thought.
Corbin also argued for a continuity between Suhrawardī and Avicenna in terms
of an illuminative or oriental (“eastern”) philosophy based on elements found in
their allegorical writings or, as he called them, “visionary recitals.” In works such
as Avicenna and the Visionary Recital and Spiritual Body and Celestial Earth, he

14
investigated these ideas further in ways similar to those of Suhrawardī himself,
seeking to understand illuminationist philosophy in terms of an esoteric tradition
with roots in Zoroastrian and Hermetic thought. Corbin’s scholarship was also
deeply informed by his involvement with contemporary Western studies of the
problems of hermeneutics, especially the work of Martin Heidegger. He found
and developed deep resonances between this contemporary movement and the
Islamic tradition of hermeneutics (ta’wil).7
The pre-eminent representatives of the other and contending school of
Suhrawardī scholarship are John Walbridge and Hossain Ziai. Their great
contribution to Suhrawardī scholarship is their joint translation of Suhrawardī’s
masterpiece The Philosophy of Illumination (Ḥikmat al-Ishrāq). Walbridge has
also written a trilogy of books on Suhrawardī (The Leaven of the Ancients, The
Science of Mystic Lights, The Wisdom of the Mystic East) and Ziai has produced
his own study of illuminationist philosophy, Knowledge and Illumination. The
best way to present their differences with Corbin is to let them speak for
themselves, from the Introduction to their translation:
The great French orientalist Henry Corbin saw Suhrawardī’s project as an
“Oriental theosophy.” The “Peripatetic” works were thus either purely
propaedeutic or a middle phase of his thought. The Philosophy of
Illumination stands alone as representative of Suhrawardī’s mature
thought. What is important in that work is the metaphysics of light and
darkness and, in general, the mythological elements of Suhrawardī’s
thought. The allegories and the mystical works are likewise seen as
representative of the final and highest stage of his thought. Suhrawardī’s
7
For a discussion of this resonance and its importance for contemporary philosophy see
Chapter 2 of Azadpur’s Reason Unbound.

15
primary cultural identification is with ancient Iran. Insofar as Corbin’s
interpretation has premodern roots, they are in the Zoroastrian-oriented
philosophy of the Illuminationists of Mughal India. Corbin’s
interpretation is expressed not just in his studies of Suhrawardī but also
in his translations and even his critical editions of Suhrawardī’s works.
The use of renderings like “theosophy” and “oriental” indicate the
fundamentally mythological focus of Corbin’s interests and
interpretations. His translation of The Philosophy of Illumination omits
the logic, and his editions of the three “Peripatetic”…works omit the logic
and physics of each work and contain only the sections on metaphysics.
Such methods inevitably downplay the strictly philosophical aspects of
Suhrawardī’s thought. Others—and we are among them—see
Suhrawardī’s program as fundamentally philosophical and consider the
“mature Peripatetic” works to be part of the same philosophical program
as The Philosophy of Illumination. In such an interpretation, Suhrawardī’s
logical and metaphysical critique of the Peripatetics is central to his
philosophical enterprise. Suhrawardī is presenting what is fundamentally
a philosophy—albeit one with a place provided for the use of allegory
and mystical experience—and is thus to be interpreted and judged in
philosophical terms.…The allegorical works, though of literary interest,
are seen as primarily elementary and semipopular works and not central
to the Illuminationist philosophy. (xix)
There is another scholar whose name deserves mention in this survey and who
stands quite apart from this debate. This is Mehdi Hai’iri Yazdi. His Principles of
Epistemology in Islamic Philosophy: Knowledge by Presence is valuable because it
is one of the first philosophical studies in English written by a scholar who was
trained in the traditional method of philosophical study in Iran but who is also
well versed in the Western philosophical tradition. Like Suhrawardī himself, he
emphasizes both mystical and philosophical aspects. In the introduction to the
Principles of Epistemology he writes:
The primary aim of this study is to introduce the notion of knowledge by
presence, as nonphenomenal human consciousness that is identical with
the very being of human nature, to the epistemological study of
philosophy. Having touched on this aim, we are legitimately prepared to

16
utilize philosophical analysis in formulating the mystical theory of the
unicity of the whole world of Being as the prime proposition of mystical
theory. Most important of all, through this analysis the paradoxical
problems inherent in the theory of mysticism can be examined through
the logic of philosophical thinking. (2)
Walbridge and Ziai are quite correct in noting that Corbin tends to
neglect the philosophical aspects of Suhrawardī’s work and that this is
problematic. In this study I argue that Suhrawardī’s philosophical arguments and
critique of the Peripatetic system are motivated by his view that the Peripatetic
system is an incorrect and inadequate theoretical guide to the intuitive
philosopher in her path to mystical fulfillment. So I hold that the mystical and
philosophical aspects of Suhrawardī’s system are mutually supporting and
equally necessary to an accurate understanding of his thought. In this I agree
with Walbridge and Ziai. It is only fair to note, however, that this criticism does
not hold for others who have been considered (and who have considered
themselves) to be members of Corbin’s school. Both Nasr and Aminrazavi give
full value and attention to the philosophical aspect of Suhrawardī’s work and
both have produced valuable and important studies in this regard. Aminrazavi’s
School of Illumination, for example, shows a fine balance in considering all of the
elements of Suhrawardī’s thought.
It is also unjust, however, to represent Walbridge and Ziai as failing, in
Aminrazavi’s words, to give “appropriate credit to the mystical dimension as
well” (School xix). Both Walbridge and Ziai are in fact insistent that mystical

17
experience is fundamental to Suhrawardī’s philosophy. Thus, Ziai writes that
Suhrawardī’s work
marks the beginning of a well-formulated religious and mystical
philosophy in Islam. It transcends Peripatetic philosophy by according a
fundamental epistemological position to revelation, personal inspiration
and mystical vision. Suhrawardī’s thought constitutes neither a theology,
nor a theosophy, nor sagesse orientale, as the volume of scholarship to
date may suggest. Instead it represents a systematic mystical philosophy.
(Knowledge 2)
Walbridge takes a view that is in some ways very similar to my own:
Suhrawardī states that the truths of the Science of Lights are derived in
the first instance from mystical intuition. Plato, for example, knew that
the basis of all reality was light because he saw that this was so….The
Philosophy of Illumination is philosophy, not mysticism; Suhrawardī
constructs rational proofs of his intuitions both for the sake of his own
continued certainty and correct interpretation of those intuitions and for
the guidance of those without the experience. (Science 42)
Where Walbridge and Ziai deserve to be faulted, however, is in their
handling of the visionary recitals. These they treat with a not-so-benign neglect.
Walbridge, for example, writes as follows:
[Suhrawardī’s] allegories were widely read and in the eyes of many
Persian scholars and philosophers came to be considered the centerpiece
of his philosophy. This seems wrong on the face of it, since the content
of his allegories is quite elementary and they do not contain his more
advanced doctrines. I am convinced they were intended for popular
readers and for students. (“Suhrawardī” 219)
It seems much more likely, rather, that “on the face of it” works that are
universally regarded as gems of Persian literature and which Walbridge himself
describes as “exquisite” (“Suhrawardī” 219) were intended to be more than
primers or popularizations. Aminrazavi makes the point:

18
To ignore the vast body of Suhrawardī’s mystical narratives also ignores
the reason he wrote these mystical treatises. If Suhrawardī did not
consider them to be necessary, he would not have composed them with
such care or given repeated instructions to his companions to safeguard
them. The mystical narratives of Suhrawardī should be regarded as part
and parcel of the doctrine of illumination and it is in such treatises that
he offers the second component of the ishrāqi school of thought, namely
practical wisdom. (School xvii)
He goes on to say:
It is obvious that Suhrawardī has written a variety of mystical narratives
deliberately using the traditional Sufi symbolism and metaphors.
Furthermore, the number of these treatises, the use of Sufi language and
expressions, as well as explicit emphasis on such notions as the spiritual
path, the need for a master and ascetic practices, all indicate one thing,
namely Suhrawradī’s desire to disclose the place and significance of the
Sufi component of the school of ishrāq. It is therefore our view that
disregarding the Sufi elements of the Suhrawardian thoughts leads to a
misinterpretation of the school of Ishraq which is often followed by an
attempt to place Suhrawardī in one of the traditional schools of Islamic
philosophy, i.e. peripatetics. It is the opinion of this author that
Suhrawardī did not rely on one methodology for the understanding of
truth but that he made full use of the possibilities that exist in the
philosophical as well as the practical aspects of wisdom. (School xix)
A. S. Coomaraswamy put into clear perspective what I believe is the
underlying problem in all this when he wrote that it was a peculiarity of the West
“that whereas all other peoples…have thought of art as a kind of knowledge, we
have invented an ‘aesthetic’ and think of art as a kind of feeling” (113). This
seems to be precisely the issue upon which this controversy rests. Corbin, along
with Nasr and Aminrazavi, believe that the visionary recitals convey knowledge.
Walbridge and Ziai believe that they do not: they are “only” of “literary interest”
(ix). But what did Suhrawardī believe? What did he intend?

19
I think it is fairly evident that Walbridge, at least, believes that
Suhrawardī intended to be a Greek. I say this because of the fact that of
Walbridge’s three books on Suhrawardī, one, The Leaven of the Ancients, is
devoted entirely to attempting to prove that Suhrawardī was a traditional Greek
philosopher, and another, The Wisdom of the Mystic East, is devoted entirely to
attempting to prove that Suhrawardī could not possibly have been influenced by
anything Persian:
There is certainly no warrant whatever for considering Suhrawardī as an
exponent of any sort of genuine pre-Islamic Iranian wisdom. He shows
no evidence of knowledge of ancient Iran beyond what might be
expected of an educated Muslim of his time and place. I will argue that
his invocation of the ancient Persians is incidental even in terms of his
philosophical mythology, and that is Plato, Hermes and the Greeks who
are central.…It is the Greek philosophers who are his sages par
excellence. (Wisdom 13)
I tend to think that Walbrigde’s views reflect a tendency that still exists in
Western academic circles to identify philosophy with the Greeks, rationalism
with philosophy, and Western civilization with both, and that this has had its
effect on the study of Suhrawardī. This settled opinion results in a tendency
among scholars such as Walbridge to unduly emphasize what they think to be
the Greek and rational elements of his thought and to try to disregard or
disparage the Persian and poetic, whether pre-or post-Islamic. This does not do
justice to the full range of Suhrawardī’s legacy. There is still a pervasive
tendency among scholars to believe, as Oswald Spengler wrote, that our
Western culture has a deep inward relationship to Greek culture that makes us

20
its successors and inheritors rather than being merely its worshippers. For my
part, I agree with Spengler in believing that this is, as he says, a venerable
prejudice that should at long last be put aside.8
After all of that, it is a pleasure to record that contemporary scholarship
on Abhinavagupta is much less fraught, no doubt because the subject matter is
more remote, with no direct connection with the Western tradition such as
Suhrawardī has with Platonism. As it is the case with Suhrawardī, the study of
Abhinavagupta is a recent phenomenon, primarily because his work has lain in
obscurity for many centuries. What enabled scholarship to begin was the
publication in the early part of the 20th century of the Kashmir Series of Texts
and Studies by the Research Department of the Government of Kashmir. The
publication of this series enabled scholars to find reprinted all of the important
texts of the early Kashmir Śaivite tradition. This publication event has allowed
research to flourish both in India and the West. In India, it is worthwhile to note
the work of the most authentic modern representative of the tradition,
Brahmacari Lakṣman Joo, who has had a number of the more prominent
Western scholars among his students. In addition, there is Pandey’s
monumental and indispensable study, Abhinavagupta. Pandey has also
produced a text of the Īśvarapratyabhijñāvimarśinī, including an English
8
“Es ist ein ehrwürdiges Vorurteil, das wir endlich überwinden sollten, daß die Antike
uns innerlich nahesteht, weil wir vermeintlich ihre Schüler und Nachkommen, weil wir
tatsächlich ihre Anbeter gewesen sind” (37).

21
translation. Jaideva Singh has brought out a series of translations, complete with
his own extremely valuable commentary, including the Śivasūtras, the
Spandakārikās, the Pratyabhijñāhṛdayam, the Parātrīśikāvivaraṇa, and the
Vijṇānabhairava. The Muktabodha Indological Research Institute has produced
quality translations of the Paramārthasāra, Tantrasāra, and Utpaladeva’s
Īsvarapratybhijñākārikā.
In the West, Alexis Sanderson has written copiously on the Śaiva
traditions in Kashmir, producing a series of articles covering a wide variety of
topics including both historical and interpretive issues. A number of scholars
have produced studies treating particular facets of Abhinavagupta’s work within
the Kashmir Śaivite tradition as a whole. Lilian Silburn, in addition to translating
a number of works into French including the Paramārthasāra, wrote a study
whose particular focus was kuṇḍalinī and its place within the tantric tradition.
André Padoux has produced a systematic and in-depth treatment of divine
speech and phonematic emanation. Mark Dyczkowski has written a trilogy
whose particular focus is the doctrine of spanda or vibration. Paul Muller-Ortega
wrote a book whose particular focus was the symbol of the heart with the works
of Abhinavagupta. John Dupuche has written on the Kula Ritual as described in
the Tantrāloka (TĀ). All of these scholars have also published significant essays
which advance the study of Abhinavagupta’s work. Also of note is Dyczkowski’s
forthcoming translation of the complete Tantrāloka with commentary, which will
certainly make Abhinavagupta’s magnus opus much more generally accessible.

22
In addition to these philosophical studies, there has been a similar flowering of
both Indian and Western scholarship treating of Abhinavagupta’s theories of
aesthetics. The pioneering work was Indian Aesthetics by Pandey, framed in
terms of Abhinavagupa’s theories and devoted to bringing them into line with
the philosophical aspects of Abhinavagupta’s works in which Pandey was also a
pre-eminent scholar. Ingalls, Masson, and Patwardhan have produced a
translation of the Dhvanyāloka of Ānandavrhana along with Abhinavagupta’s
Locana, supplemented by analytical studies such as Masson and Patwardhan’s
Śāntarasa and Abhinvagupta’s Philosophy of Aesthetics. There have also been
works by K. P. Mishra, Y. S. Walimbe, and R. Gnoli.
Methodological Considerations
There is an obvious fact with which any scholar who seeks to approach
thinkers such as Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta must come to terms. Speaking
of Suhrawardī’s Ḥikmat al-Ishrāq, Walbridge puts it in the following way:
He indicates that it is an esoteric book, written for his disciples and not
really intended for others. It was based in part on intuition or mystical
insight; its full comprehension was reserved for those who have achieved
a certain level of spiritual comprehension. (Science 28)
The obvious fact poses an obvious methodological problem. Again speaking with
reference to Suhrawardī, Aminrazavi states it comprehensively:
The foremost difficulty in writing on Suhrawardī’s school of illumination,
as with any visionary mystic/philosopher, is to find the qualified person
who can comment from an insider’s point of view. The heart of the
visionary’s brand of mysticism, is to have an intuitive knowledge of or an
inner experience of, truth. By definition, then, commentators and
authors of such a work would be qualified to explain this inner

23
experience if they can relate to this message on an experiential basis and
therefore can speak as an insider. The above poses a problem for this
author since on the one hand I am to comment on a philosopher/mystic
whose thoughts have drawn and engaged more for a number of years,
while on the other hand I do not stand within the illuminationist tradition
of the luminous world of lights, angels, archetypes and the
interconnected web of ideas that Suhrawardī puts forward.…An insight of
the luminous world of Suhrawardī therefore, is not a “live option” for me,
to use William James’ term. (School xvi)
Muller-Ortega raises the same issue with regard to Abhinavagupta:
Can we hope completely to understand Abhinavagupta? We must be fully
aware that for every element of his thought we study, many more remain
to be discussed before we can claim a true understanding of this great
teacher and the tradition from which he stems. We immediately
encounter an important and central cross-cultural perplexity. We have
been using the term understand in its commonly accepted denotation: to
have a thorough technical acquaintance with something. The term may
be used in a stronger sense: Abhinavagupta distinguishes between an
understanding that is purely intellectual, and one gained from
experiential knowledge. There is an important sense in which to
understand the Heart actually requires replicating the journey of return
that is the tantric sādhanā: we must play Śiva’s game to its most serious
and hilarious conclusion, which is the unmasking of Śiva within ourselves.
A scholarly study, however, cannot insist on such a radical form of
understanding. (Triadic 2–3)
Since both of these distinguished scholars have in fact produced scholarly
works that deal with Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta, the reader will not be
remiss in presuming that they have both offered solutions to the conundrum
that they have posed. And so it is. Aminrazavi writes as follows:
This volume presents not so much a discussion concerning the validity or
soundness of Suhrawardī’s specific ideas but an exposition of the mystical
dimension of his rather broad and varied school of thought. As an
outsider to a school of thought whose thrust remains the attainment of
truth through a special mode of cognition, all an author can do is to
engage himself in a close textual analysis and attempt to put them in
coherent and well defined concepts.…The present work, therefore,
undertakes a study of the mystical dimension of Suhrawardī’s thought. It

24
is imperative to note that while mysticism remains one of the salient
features of Suhrawardī’s philosophical school, he was not only a Sufi nor
was his school of thought only mystical. (School xvi)
And here is Muller-Ortega:
A scholarly study, however, cannot insist on such a radical form of
understanding. As a consequence we must here limit the notion of
understanding to a form of sympathetic perception through which we
attempt to see and feel our way into the still alien universe of tantric
sādhanā. However, this limitation of understanding necessarily obscures
the most important meaning of the Heart of Abhinavagupta: that a
religious vision is not something simply intellectual, emotional, or
imagined, but rather it is a pulsating, powerful experience that
completely transforms our ordinary and routinized perceptions of reality.
Nevertheless, a scholarly study can contribute something to the collective
task of interpreting and understanding the work of Abhinavagupta. In
addition, it may embolden a few readers to the existential task of
experiential replication. (Triadic 3)
In facing myself this methodological dilemma, I can first simply appeal to
the precedent of these ansehene Vorgängers. My task of justification is actually
easier than theirs because mine is a philosophical study with a strictly
philosophical research agenda, even though it must to some extent deal with the
mystical aspect of their work. I can once again appeal to Staal’s dictum that
while comparative religious studies are not religion (which in essence is the
problem that Aminrazavi and Muller-Ortega have posed), comparative
philosophy remains philosophy. In this I am aided by both of the subjects of the
study themselves. Both Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta can be described, in
Ziai’s happy phrase, as systematic mystical philosophers (Knowledge 1). Muller-
Ortega himself refers to Abhinavagupta’s “highly intellectualized mysticism”
(“Luminous” 51). Even though these are both mystical systems, one finds very

25
little that is apophatic in either thinker’s writings—no appeals to ineffability such
as occur in Cusa, for example. On the contrary, both Suhrawardī and
Abhinavagupta are insistent upon the place, even the necessity, of reasoning in
the mystical quest.
In the introduction to his masterwork, Ḥikmat al-Ishrāq, Suhrawardī
distinguishes two types of wisdom (ḥikma) in philosophy: intuitive (ta’alluh) and
discursive (baḥth). Intuitive philosophy is the more mystical side of things. It
means, literally, becoming God-like, from takhalluq bi akhlāq Allāh, becoming
characterized by the traits of God. Discursive philosophy, however, involves the
mastery of logic and reason and of the sciences. Suhrawardī says that
philosophers may have varying combinations and degrees of either of these two,
but that the ideal philosopher is the master of both (ḤI 5).
Abhinavagupta goes even further. He writes that, according to Kashmir
Śaiva doctrine, knowledge and ignorance may be divided into two types each,
namely spiritual (pauruṣa) and intellectual (bauddha) (TĀ 1.36).9 He argues that
both spiritual and intellectual ignorance and spiritual and intellectual knowledge
feed on each other (posṭṛ). He then goes on to say that, while initiation and
ritual and the like may eradicate spiritual ignorance, this only occurs after the
body dies. However, he continues, if intellectual ignorance is brought to an end
through intellectual knowledge, then liberation while still alive is as if in the palm
9
ज्ञ न ज्ञ नस्वरूपां यदुक्तां प्रत्येकमप्यदाः।
चिध पौरूषबौद्धत्वचिदोक्तां चिवि सने ॥

26
of one’s hand (jīvanmuktiḥ karatale sthitā) (TĀ 1.44).10 Moreover, even in the
case of initiation and ritual and the like, liberation only occurs when it is
preceded or accompanied by clear intellectual insight (bauddhavijñāna). Thus, in
that case also, intellectual knowledge is the dominant factor (TĀ 1.45). This
emphasis on the intellectual in both Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta encourages
me to suppose that a study such as this one, which is focused on philosophical
doctrine, can nonetheless be adequate to truly capture at least some of the
essence of what each of them understands and intends with regard to Light.
A philosophical approach, however, has its own methodological problems
to be considered. This fact is particularly true of a comparative study. The first
question to be addressed is whether or not it is legitimate to refer to systems of
thought that are not derived from the Greek intellectual culture of antiquity as
“philosophy.” It goes without saying that I think that it is legitimate to do so, in
particular for a couple of systems of thought from Persia and India. Happily, I am
not alone in holding this view in the philosophical community. Scharfstein
advocates it as follows:
As the interrelationship between human beings everywhere grows
stronger and more visible, it grows more obvious that a point of view that
takes account of no more than a single culture is to that extent provincial.
This provincialism has been shared by persons of otherwise great
intellectual distinction, too proud, I suppose, to realize how narrow-
minded they were, or still are. I do not hesitate to say that anyone who
believes that philosophy…has been confined to Europe is demonstrating
10
बौद्धज्ञ नेन तु यद बौद्धमज्ञ नजृचभितम् ।
चवलीयते तद जीवन्मुचक्ताः करतले चस्थत ॥

27
either ignorance or prejudice. So far as I know, this belief is never held by
those have studied Indian or Chinese thought with care. (7)
It helps, however, to have some justification for this view, and for the purposes
of providing it for this study I will avail myself of the one Scharfstein himself
supplies:
I define [a] tradition as philosophical to the extent that its members
articulate it in the form of principles—if only principles of
interpretation—and of conclusions reasonably drawn from them; and I
define it as philosophical to the extent that its adherents defend and
attack by means of reasonable arguments—even those that deny
reason—and understand and explain how they try to be reasonable. (1)
Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta do not merely state and claim things about Light,
they present reasoned arguments in support of what they state and claim. Some
of these arguments are considerably intricate and subtle. I have included a
number of them in this study and one of the reasons that I did so was to make
exactly Scharfstein’s point, that Suhrawardī and especially Abhinavagupta should
be considered philosophers because they reason and argue in what is a
quintessentially philosophical manner.
It must, however, be noted that the scope of what is called
“philosophical,” even within Scharfstein’s definition, is somewhat broader for
“systematic mystical” philosophers such as Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta then
what is often meant by “philosophy” in, say, many modern American
universities. In this context Jonathan Edelmann, for example, argues that for
Hindu thinkers such as Abhinavagupta, while it would certainly be false to say
that his system is not philosophical or has no philosophical interest at all, it is

28
misleading to call them philosophers, in particular since the scope of their
intellectual practice includes the spiritual exegesis of sacred texts in a way that
modern Western philosophical practice does not. Their practice should more
properly be called theology (430–31). Of course, neither Suhrawardī nor
Abhinavagupta are modern Western philosophers, and Edelmann himself
recognizes that “the words philosophy and theology have changed in meaning
over the course of Western history, and therefore Hindu exegetes share
sensibilities of what was called philosophy in medieval Europe” (431). However,
he then goes on to say that “we need to use the words are used today, even if
one may wish to note alternative meanings from different historical contexts”
(431). The difficulty with this analysis is that it privileges mainstream Western
practice in a way that is not entirely justified—consider, for example,
contemporary Thomism, which continues to share the medieval outlook—and it
also smacks of Eurocentrism. For example, the accuracy of his claim is arguable
in the case of contemporary Islamic philosophers such as Mehdi Yazdi
Mohammed Azadpur, and Seyyed Hossein Nasr.
The other issue is that of contextualism. In his collection of essays
dealing with Light in various traditions, which includes articles on both
Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta, Matthew Kapstein summed up the issue:
The comparative study of mysticism and religious experience has been
enriched during recent decades by a lively debate aroused by scholars
who have argued, against the perennialism that had characterized much
of early-twentieth-century writing on mysticism, that religious experience
is largely a matter of cultural and linguistic construction, and not of

29
context-neutral, universal phenomena. In rebuttal, some have recently
sought to challenge constructivism, grounding religious epistemology in
experiences that are not contingently constructed, but instead reflect
innate capacities of human consciousness and perception. (ix)
Although Kapstein was writing about religion and mysticism, similar things have
been said in philosophy, although with perhaps a little less force because
reasoning is less private than mystical experience. Nevertheless, as I have noted
earlier, in making this study I am clearly committed to the possibility and
legitimacy of cross-cultural comparison between intellectual cultures in general
and philosophical traditions in particular.
As far as the extreme contextualist position is concerned, that is, that
philosophical traditions from different cultures are absolutely incommensurable,
I will note along with others that it entails its own denial. The claim that
different philosophical traditions are incommensurable depends in itself upon
them being at least commensurable enough so that one can judge them to be in
fact incommensurable. As Scharfstein puts it:
Whoever goes beyond the mere assertion and undertakes to explain how
and why traditional Indians, Chinese, and Europeans were—and, to later
interpreters, remain—impenetrable worlds apart, is most probably
assuming the ability to enter into each of the worlds far enough to show
that they are closed to one another. The explanation explains what, it is
claimed, is impossible to explain. (34)
My other justification for a methodology employing cross-cultural philosophical
comparisons is that the denial that philosophers from differing cultures can
interact with each other in meaningful ways is empirically false. We have had
examples of just such interaction throughout recorded history. The most

30
relevant example to this study, perhaps, is that, when Greek philosophers
travelling with Alexander the Great encountered yogis in India, they were able to
recognize what they were to the extent of calling them gymnosophists.11
The present study itself brings up this question in another interesting
way. Consider the following remark of Frits Staal, delivered in a somewhat
contextualist vein: “Oriental philosophies can be studied in Western philosophy
only as possibilities of Western philosophy” (13). Now, that is prettily said, but
where does it leave Suhrawardī, a Persian Platonist? For as a Persian, he is
presumably an Oriental philosopher, and as a Platonist, presumably a Western
one.12 But how can he be? By its mere existence, the Islamic philosophical
tradition broaches the question of whether or not the Greek philosophical
tradition is inherently “Western” at all. As the boundaries between different
contexts start to become permeable or even fade, contextualism becomes a
harder position to sustain.
11
A (somewhat) more recent example comes from the chair of my dissertation
committee, who for quite a number of years has been attending a series of conferences
held between Hopi Medicine Elders and Quantum Physicists in the American Southwest.
By his account, the two groups seem to understand one another remarkably well.
12
This is Scharfstein’s solution. In his Comparative History of World Philosophy he
writes “Jewish and Muslim thought, though each has its own history and dogmas, draw
their philosophy proper from the same Greek and Roman sources and, in this limited
but real sense, are part of the European tradition” (6). For anyone with a knowledge of
the Islamic tradition and its historical relationship with the West, this step is
misconceived almost to the point of absurdity.

31
Limitations of the Study
Both Suhrawardī’s ḥikmat al-ishrāq and Abhinavagupta’s anuttara trika
kula are rich and profound systems, integrating philosophy and mysticism. A
comparative study such as this one, focused as it is on the purely philosophical
aspects of their works, can barely touch upon the surface of either. Its
justification lies, I believe, in the centrality of Light to both of their systems of
thought and practice.
Nonetheless, it is important to acknowledge some of the limitations that
are necessarily imposed on the study by its scope and focus. The first limitation I
wish to mention is textual. In focusing upon the question of the doctrine of the
metaphysics of Light as it appears in their systems, in the case of Suhrawardī I
have used almost exclusively his masterwork, Ḥikmat al-Ishrāq (ḤI). Not only
does this book express his philosophical treatment of Light in a complete and
comprehensive way, including all of his arguments for illuminationist principles
and against the Peripatetics, but alone among all his works it is written in the
Light terminology which is perhaps the most striking feature of his philosophy.
In the case of Abhinavagupta I have used primarily his masterwork the
Tantralokā, supplemented by a few other works, in particular the
Īsvarapratyabhijñāvimarśini because it is there that he presents his detailed
philosophical argumentation.
Since this study is a philosophical one, and both Suhrawardī and
Abhinavagupta are systematic mystical philosophers, I am necessarily telling only

32
half the story. But as Aminrazavi and Muller-Ortega have said, and I quite agree,
the core experiential elements of the mystical aspects of their systems are quite
beyond the reach of a scholarly study. However, neither Suhrawardī nor
Abhinavagupta compartmentalized their knowledge in this way. So there are
elements in their mystical and aesthetic thought that doubtless have significant
bearing even on the more purely philosophical aspects of their work that I
consider and these things appear in their texts. Because of my focus on the
doctrinal elements of the metaphysics of Light in relation to these works, I have
not been able, for reasons of space, to include all of these in my study, although I
do discuss mysticism to a certain extent. Yet they are of such importance that
they at least bear mentioning.
A very complex and important part of Abhinavagupta’s texts, especially
the Tantrāloka, is his explication of the four methods or means (upāya-s) where
one actually attains enlightened freedom. Often in his works discussion of these
means are deeply intertwined with the more philosophical elements of his
discussion. This interleaving can occur at a very fine level of detail, even within
an individual pada. In lifting out the purely philosophical elements for a doctrinal
comparison with Suhrawardī, I have inevitably done a certain injustice not only
to the actual flow of Abhinavagupta’s thought but to it sense as well. I am aware
of this fact, but I also think that the philosophical elements can be treated in
isolation for the purposes of this study, which is a doctrinal investigation
concerning specific questions of ontology, epistemology, and cosmogony.

33
Attempting to include these elements would also inevitably trespass on those
elements of Abhinavagupta’s system that can be accessed only through direct
experience and which are beyond the reach of a scholarly study anyway.
In their writings, both Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta also move beyond
the strictly philosophical into the areas of the poetic, aesthetic, and imaginal. I
have already had occasion to discuss these facts with regard to Suhrawardī in my
review of scholarship earlier in this chapter. The same is true for
Abhinavagupta’s extensive and important works on aesthetics. I agree with
scholars such as Pandey, Barlingay, and Mishra that Abhinavagupta’s aesthetic is
seamlessly integrated with his philosophy and so its relevance is undoubted.
Abhinavagupta’s Dhvanyāloka (“Light on [the Doctrine of] Suggestion”)
has proven over the centuries to be one of the most influential works of India on
the theory and practice of poetics and literary criticism. As its name indicates, in
large part it is a defense and advocacy of suggestion (dhvani) as an independent
semantic mode that has greater evocative power in speech than direct
denotation (abhidhā).
Indirect reference implies the need for interpretation of meaning, and
thus of some level of hermeneutics. As I discuss earlier in this chapter in the
review of scholarship, hermeneutics (ta’wil) is one of the fundamental features
of Corbin’s approach to the works of Suhrawardī, especially in the visionary
recitals, for the idea of ta’wil, etymologically and functionally, is to “cause to
return, to lead back, to restore to one’s origin and to the place where one comes

34
home, consequently to return to the true and original meaning of a text”
(Avicenna 29). When one considers that one of the fundamental concepts of
Kashmir Śaivism is pratyabhijñā or recognition, it seems evident that there is
material here for a comparative investigation between Suhrawardī and
Abhinavagupta that could go beyond the limits of investigating their systems in
terms of the metaphysics of Light. Such a study might even involve correlating
similarities in their Light philosophies with possible similarities arising from their
common involvement with poetics, suggestive reference, and hermeneutics. I
readily acknowledge the appeal of such a study and its possible importance to a
number of areas of scholarship, but also must submit that it is quite beyond the
scope of the present study.
The same is true of another important aspect of Suhrawardī’s work that
also engaged Corbin in a fundamental and compelling way. Suhrawardī taught
that in addition to the intelligible, spiritual, and material worlds, there is another
level of reality, the ‘alam al-mithāl, or what Corbin named the mundus
imaginalis or imaginal world. The imaginal level of reality operates like an
intermediary bridge between the physical world and the intelligible level of
world of forms. More than the concept of hermeneutics or ta’wil, the imaginal
world has direct philosophical implications, dealing as it does with issues of
ontology. It is also important in terms of Suhrawardī’s relation to the Islamic
tradition because it is anticipated in Al-Farabi and Avicenna and also appears in
Ibn ‘Arabi who is his near contemporary (d. 1240). Nonetheless I have regretfully

35
concluded that consideration of this important aspect of Suhrawardī’s system is
beyond the scope of the present study. I am sustained in this decision by the
fact that the ‘alam al-mithāl and its theory is barely mentioned, if it is mentioned
at all, in the Ḥikmat al-Ishrāq, which is Suhrawardī’s major philosophical work
concerning the metaphysics of Light and the fundamental research text for this
study.
Structure of the Study
As philosophy, the doctrine of the metaphysics of Light has three
elements: ontology, epistemology, and emanation. Although the three interact
together to form a composite and complex whole, it is useful to separate them
for analysis. The core of this study is its three central chapters, one chapter
dealing with each of these doctrinal elements.
Persia has always served as a bridge between the East and the West, and
in a way Suhrawardī serves that function in this study as well. Its central
question is to ask to what extent it is legitimate to include Suhrawardī’s al-
ḥikmat al-ishrāq and Abhinavagupta’s anuttara trika kula within the extension of
the doctrine of the metaphysics of Light. For Suhrawardī there is no difficulty in
this whatsoever: the doctrine of the metaphysics of Light in its accepted
extension is Platonist, and so is Suhrawardī. The only reason he has not been
regularly included in the lists of philosophers who are identified with the
doctrine is that he has been (and to a certain extent remains) relatively unknown
in Western academia. So in a comparative study with Abhinavagupta he can

36
serve as a litmus test, as it were, because it is of Abhinavagupta, who is not a
Platonist and is an Indian philosopher, that the central question to be
investigated really needs to be asked. So in each of the central chapters, after
some introductory discussion, I proceed to a descriptive analysis of Suhrawardī’s
system in terms of the specific element of the doctrine to be investigated in that
chapter. I then go on to do the same for Abhinavagupta and then finally I do a
comparative analysis. I have also included in each chapter direct quotations
from the works of Plato or Plotinus or both as prime exemplars of the doctrine in
its “original” Platonic setting to serve as an additional touchstone for
comparison.
Before beginning this comparative analysis, however, I devote Chapter 2
of this study to the historical context. The question of context assumes
importance in any cross-cultural comparative study and especially so in this one,
because it is important in terms of the research question to determine to what
extent, if any, there has been direct or indirect influence between Suhrawardī’s
and Abhinavagupta’s thought or even between their parent traditions. In
addition to investigating this question, in this chapter I give a brief overview of
the life and works of the two philosophers. I also examine the historical context
of both Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta within each of their own traditions.
In Chapter 3 I investigate and compare how Suhrawardī and
Abhinavagupta each understand Light within the ontologies of their respective
systems. I inquire into what they mean by “Light” and how they both define it

37
and understand it in relation to Being and manifestation, as well as the general
features of their cosmologies. I also look at the arguments they bring to bear
against other schools within their respective traditions with a view to determine
how they illuminate each philosopher’s particular treatment of the question of
Light and Being.
In Chapter 4 I bring the same comparative procedure to Light and
cognition, examining Suhrawardī’s and Abhinavagupta’s systems in relation to
the idea of divine illumination. I investigate their own particular doctrines,
knowledge by presence and the illuminative relation for Suhrawardī, and the
doctrine of appearance and the doctrine of vibration in Abhinavagupta. I again
examine the particular lines of argument each philosopher takes against other
schools to establish his version of the doctrine.
Chapter 5 deals with the doctrine of emanation. Here I will consider how
each philosopher understands the continuum of Light which constitutes reality
and manifestation, of what it consists, and the manner in which it functions.
In Chapter 6, the conclusion, I seek to collate and evaluate the material of
the other chapters with a view toward answering the research question by
evaluating the extent to which Suhrawardī—and in particular Abhinavagupta—
may be thought to be exponents of the doctrine of the metaphysics of Light as
well as to what extent doing so may possibly change the defining characteristics
of the doctrine itself.

38
CHAPTER 2: THE HISTORICAL CONTEXT
In his Introduction to The Presence of Light, Matthew Kapstein writes as
follows:
Among the themes sometimes taken to suggest that there is a universal
basis for religious intuition and experience, images of light must hold
pride of place….In mystical traditions, East and West, not only is light
ubiquitous, but strikingly precise similarities may be found in altogether
different historical and cultural settings. The traditions themselves, in
their interplay of convergence and divergence, seem to confirm the
vision of the whole and its many modes. (viii)
The works of Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta show exactly this striking
similarity within differing historical and cultural settings. There is no attested
historical or textual connection between them yet, as this study shows, their
philosophical doctrines concerning Light are remarkably similar. In his recent
comparative study of Neoplatonism with Kashmir Śaivism, Michal Just
summarizes the situation accurately and well:
How is it possible that this philosophical doctrine seems to have travelled
across geographical and cultural boundaries with such unbelievable ease?
This might be explained either by the nature of the subject itself…or by a
cross-cultural exchange of ideas based on real contact on oral or textual
level…since direct textual parallels, e.g. translations, seem difficult to be
found, the question of real contact may remain forever open as its
answer more or less depends on the personal preferences of each
interpreter. We could take the first path and presume that doctrinal
parallels are derived from the nature of the mind itself; we are thus led to
the old doctrine of eternal philosophy (philosophy perennis or theologia
prisca).…Taking the path of “influence” would on the other hand lead to
an increasingly detailed study of the history with a proportionally
increasing degree of speculative theorizing based on the growing amount
of material of such study. (23)
In his essay, Just considers only Hellenistic Neoplatonism in relation to
Kashmir Śaivism. There is no mention of the Islamic development of Neoplatonic

39
thought in general nor of Suhrawardī’s illuminationist philosophy in particular.
Just is by no means unique in this regard. Comparative studies of Neoplatonism
and Indian philosophy have gone on in the Western Academy for over a century
with little or no mention of Islamic philosophy. Yet in considering possible
influences between Neoplatonism and Indian systems of philosophy, the
importance of Islamic Neoplatonism is obvious since this tradition flourished in
Persia, which lies geographically between West Asia and the Mediterranean on
the one hand and South Asia on the other. Moreover, Light imagery has been
pervasive throughout central Eurasia, being found not only in Greek, Persian,
and Hindu thought but in Buddhist, Jewish, Christian, and Manichean as well.
This suggests the possibility of a transfer of Light imagery and associated
doctrines along the trade routes that have woven the cultures of this region
together over the last three millennia. Suhrawardī himself understood his
tradition to be rooted in an ancient wisdom tradition that was common to Egypt,
Greece, Persia, Babylon, and India. His identification of the Zoroastrian Amesha
Spenta, or bounteous immortals, with the Platonic forms suggests that Iran may
have been not only a bridge between Eastern and Western currents of thought
that contributed to the metaphysics of Light but an important source of them as
well. The existence of an Indo-Iranian linguistic, mythological, and spiritual
substratum existing prior to the earliest Vedic and Zoroastrian scriptures and
contributory to both is almost universally recognized, and this could also be a
potential source of a common heritage that eventually flowered into various

40
forms of Light-based spiritual practice and intellectual speculation. This
interaction between the two branches of the Indo-Iranian linguistic and spiritual
substratum thus dates to the close of the second millennium BCE and has been
continuous ever since. As G. Gnoli writes in the introductory section of his article
on these relations:
Existing cultural, as well as linguistic, differences between the two larger
groups would only be heightened by geographic dispersal and,
consequently, different experiences of adaptation and interaction with
the indigenous populations and different contacts with neighboring
societies. However, through political expansion, commercial relations,
religious and other cultural exchange, Iranians and Indians were destined
to experience repeated, if not continuous, rediscoveries of each other,
both in ancient times and, with increasing intensity, after the extension
eastward of Islam and the Persian language. (“India”)
Political control of these regions might change frequently, yet despite the
rise and ebb of empires, the history of India and Iran has been one of continuous
cultural interpenetration:
India’s wealth and cultural vigor, finding outlets to the west and
expedited by Iranian entrepreneurship, would give it an influence on the
art, thought, and religion of Iran and of Central Asia. In turn, the
eastward political and cultural expansion of Islam would create a vast
new field of interaction between Iranians and Indians across the
subcontinent. (G. Gnoli “India”)
All of this is clearly relevant to the research question of this study
because if there are indications of possible influence between or a common
heritage for Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta, then that might be the source of
similarities in their doctrines. There is a clear sense in which bringing a Persian
and an Indian philosopher within the ambit of the discussion of the metaphysics
of Light shifts the focus of discourse eastward, as it were, in the direction of

41
Persia and India. In particular, it opens up new avenues of inquiry concerning
the question of Persian influence on Suhrawardī’s illuminationist philosophy that
is of such importance (and controversy) in the study of his legacy.
In this chapter I address these issues of historical context. To undertake a
detailed study of the complete millennial sweep of Indo-Iranian cultural
interactions is beyond the scope of this study, so I concentrate on a few selected
elements within this history of continual interaction that bear directly or
significantly on the possibility of influence between Suhrawardī and
Abhinavagupta. I begin by considering the way in which prior scholarship has
addressed the questions of possible influence and doctrinal similarity between
Neoplatonism and Indian philosophy and examine it with reference to
Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta. I next consider the historical context of
Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta specifically, concentrating on the two epochs
that are especially suggestive of a possible shared context: the Indo-Iranian
substratum and the Delhi Sultanate under Akbar. I then consider both
Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta within the context of their respective traditions.
Finally I discuss what possible conclusions may be drawn from a consideration of
context in terms of the research project of this study.
Neoplatonism and Indian Philosophy: The Question of Influence
The question of possible influence between Greece and India in classical
antiquity has been debated by scholars over the past century. A great deal of
this discussion has been focused on possible relationships between the

42
Neoplatonists—in particular Plotinus—and Indian philosophy—in particular
Vedanta—wherein many doctrinal similarities have been seen to occur. Now,
Suhrawardī was a Neoplatonist. Similarly, Abhinavagupta’s anuttara trika kula
has historical and doctrinal relationships with Vedantā. So if there were strong
evidence for historical interaction and influence between Neoplatonism and
Vedanta and those interactions included elements of the metaphysics of Light,
then doctrinal similarities between Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta concerning
Light might be explained as the result of them both inheriting those doctrines
from such an earlier interaction of Greek and Indian traditions.
However, in modern Western scholarship at least, the question of
possible direct doctrinal influence between Indian and Greek philosophers
remains moot. Scholars have advanced arguments for the complete range of
possible positions, from historical influence being virtually impossible to its being
virtually certain. There have also been arguments for a perrenialist view,
although this can be taken to be not mutually exclusive with the possibility of
influence. These discussions have by and large treated India and Greece as
standing in isolation, as it were, without taking into consideration the possibility
of influence mediated by the network of trade routes (the Silk Road) that have
woven Eurasia together throughout antiquity.
Without doubt, the most ambitious attempt to argue for a definite
mutual influence between India and Greece in general has been Thomas
McEvilley’s The Shape of Ancient Thought. McEvilley argues for “two massive

43
transfers of ideas or methods of thinking, first from India into Greece in the pre-
Socratic period and again from Greece back into India in the Hellenistic” (642).
Essentially he claims that Indians taught the early Greeks monism and Greeks
later reciprocated by teaching Indians logic. Commentators have faulted him for
his neglect of Persia, as well as the possibility of emergence of similar doctrines
from a common Indo-European “proto-philosophy” (Allen 60–62; Thompson 48–
49). Bussanich brings up the alternative perrenialist explanation for similarity of
doctrine (5–6). Nowhere does McEvilley deal with the doctrine of Light and its
place in either tradition.
Concerning the more specific question of possible influence between
Neoplatonism and India, the starting point for discussion is often a reference
that Porphyry makes to Plotinus’s ardent interest in the philosophies of Persia
and India. After describing how after a long search Plotinus settled on
Ammonius as the teacher he had been looking for, in his the Porphyry writes:
From that day he followed Ammonius continuously, and under his
guidance made such progress in philosophy that he became eager to
investigate the Persian methods and the system adopted among the
Indians. It happened that the Emperor Gordian was at that time
preparing his campaign against Persia; Plotinus joined the army and went
on the expedition. He was then thirty-eight, for he had passed eleven
entire years under Ammonius. When Gordian was killed in
Mesopotamia, it was only with great difficulty that Plotinus came off safe
to Antioch. (3)
It is both remarkable and significant that in reading this passage, contemporary
scholars tend to focus entirely on the reference to India while passing over the
reference to Persia in silence. Yet this is only one of many references to the

44
influence of Persian knowledge that are made in Greek texts throughout
antiquity.
It is important to recognize that it is not the ancient Greeks themselves
who ignore or deny Persian influence on Greek thought—rather they
consistently affirm it.13 It is contemporary Western scholarship that discounts
the possibility of Persian influence. The difficulty for contemporary scholarship is
that there is nothing in the extant works of Plotinus that refers to Indian or
Persian philosophers in the direct way that he refers, for example, to
Parmenides. Thus scholars are left with inferring possible influence solely from
similarities in doctrine. In mainstream Neoplatonic scholarship this question has
been framed as whether or not there are aspects of Neoplatonism which cannot
be understood solely against the background of Greek tradition and would
therefore require some outside influence—presumably Indian—to explain (Staal
249). The majority of the leading scholars of Plotinus of the 20th century have
maintained that no such Indian influence is indicated (Sumi 45).14 Even granting
that it is historically possible that Plotinus was in contact with and influenced by
Indian thought, “possible contact and doctrinal similarity do not add up to
influence” (Wolters 302–03). On the other hand, scholars such as Tripathi argue
13
Even Walbridge writes that “References to things Persian appear frequently in Greek
literature of all periods” and that very often these references include statements that
Greek philosophy was influenced by or even developed from Persian wisdom
(Wisdom 5).
14
A survey of the relevant scholars and their works can be found in Staal 235–50.

45
that “we may conclude that Indian thought might have played a great part in the
development of Neoplatonism, and that Neoplatonism might be the result of the
religious syncretism which arose from the conquests of Alexander the Great and
the undertakings of the Roman Empire” (287).
There are others who adopt a more perennialist view. Chattopadhy, for
example, writes:
Fashions and faith change. Languages and ways of doing philosophy are
not constant either. But certain fundamental questions of life appear,
disappear and reappear in different forms….It is interesting to recall that
none of these questions is peculiar to one particular culture, form of life
or system of philosophy. Their trans-cultural or pervasive influence is
itself an intriguing philosophical question. How do you account for the
fact that in India, Europe and elsewhere, old, new and renewable
answers have been and still are being raised in the course of tackling
these questions? (31)
I. C. Sharma writes:
Let us accept that Plotinus was absolutely ignorant of Indian thought.
The question arises, what could be the cause of the parallelism between
the meditative methods of Plotinus and those of the Upaniṣads and the
Bhagavadgīta? How is it that similar methods have led to the same
conceptual formulation in Plotinus of the theory of the One, the Nous,
the Psyche and the World, as that of Indian thought? The most modest
answer would be that, just as the scientists’ experiments on the nature of
the atom performed in different laboratories have led to the same
conclusions the Greek and Indian thinkers might have reached identical
conclusions to the domain of religion independently of each other. (334)
Others argue that the cultural interchange facilitated by extensive trade
networks would foster a tendency toward a blending of doctrines:
Plotinus never belonged to the isolated Occident which in fact never
existed. European culture developed historically by heavy borrowing
from Babylon, India, Syria and Egypt, perhaps also from Iran and
Palestine, and Plotinus drank deeply from that composite, creative,

46
cosmopolitan culture of the Mediterranean, which today belongs to the
world’s common heritage. (Gregorios, “Geography” 21)
In any case, the question of influence between Neoplatonism and Indian
philosophy remains undecided and is likely never to have a clear resolution “at
least in the absence of some dramatically new body of evidence—namely, the
discovery of the Neoplatonic equivalent of the Dead Sea scrolls” (Ciapalo 72).
In all of this discussion, there is very little that is focused directly on the
doctrine of Light. There is one exception to this, however, in a paper entitled
“Cit and Nous” which was prepared and presented by Paul Hacker for an
international conference on “Neoplatonism and Indian Thought” held at Brock
University in Ontario in October 1967.
As its title indicates, Hacker’s essay is a comparative study of the concept
of Nous in Neoplatonism and Cit in Vedānta and Advaita Vedāntism.15 Fairly
early on, however, he finds what seems to be a glaring inconsistency. In
Neoplatonism, Hacker notes, the intellect or soul is described as being inherently
capable of turning back upon itself.16 This means that the cognitive theory of
Neoplatonism involves reflexive awareness—in Hacker’s words, “epistemological
reflexivity.” Yet “the Advaitic Vedantist explicitly dismisses the notion of
15
There are a variety of philosophical systems may be called “Vedanta.” What Hacker
means by his use of the term is primarily the system of Śaṁkara, as well as “later
interpretations of the Upaniṣads” (161). In the course of his essay, he makes specific
reference to Śaṁkara’s Upadeśasāhasrī (171–77) his Brahmasūtrabhāṣya (178–80) and
his commentary on the Bṛahdāraṇyakopaniṣad (179). Among the Upaniṣads, he also
refers to Katha, Śvetāśvatara, Muṇḍaka and Maitrī (162) and he also mentions Paul
Deussen’s The System of the Vedānta (162).
16
Έπιστροφέ προς έατου

47
epistemological reflexivity as illogical” (165). There is good reason for this, he
writes, for “one of those thinkers whose speculations were handed down in the
Upaniṣads conceived a thought that, in my opinion, belongs to the greatest
achievement of philosophy, both Eastern and Western” (165). This thought, as it
is expressed in the Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad is that “You cannot see the seer of
seeing, you cannot hear the hearer of hearing, you cannot think the thinker of
thinking, you cannot cognize the cognizer of cognition” (3.4.2).17 As Hacker
expands the problem:
That which makes knowledge possible—knowledge of all kinds, sensorial
perception as well as mental insight and discursive thinking—the
principle which makes this possible cannot naturally be grasped or
comprehended by that of which it is the very basis of existence.
Whatever names we may give to the principle which makes both mental
and sensuous acts or events possible, whether we call it consciousness or
spirit or thought or knowledge, it is absurd to assume that this principle
should need an act of knowledge in order to attain that state which we
call “to be known” or “to be manifest.” It is absurd because that which
makes a thing possible, or is the basis of it, cannot possibly itself be made
possible by the thing which it makes possible. Such an absurdity,
however, would happen in epistemological reflexivity. (165)
Yet it is “inconceivable,” writes Hacker, that “the greatest thinkers of the
West should have acquiesced in a blatant absurdity” (165). The solution to this
problem, he finds, is to suppose that by “reflection upon oneself, “ the
Neoplatonists did not mean the usual type of cognition which an object
17
न दृष्टेर द्रष्टवरां पशयेः
न श्रुतेर श्रोतवरां शृणुयवः
न मतेर मनतवरां मन्वीथवः
न मवज्ञवतवरां मवजवनीथवः

48
represents itself to a knowing subject, but rather self knowledge in the sense of
the knowing subject being immediately revealed to itself:
For the negative proposition, “Spirit can never become an object,”
provides a vigorous support to the positive statement, “Spirit is self-
revealing.” The denial of objectivity on the part of spirit naturally involves
its proximity to the subject of knowledge. (166)
But how can we be sure that the Neoplatonists in fact intended this conception
of self-reflection as self-revealing rather than a subject-object relationship? The
answer, Hacker claims, lies in the fact that both Neoplatonists and Vedāntists
expressed this self-revealing in the same terminology—the terminology of Light:
The self-manifestation of the spirit is expressed by an old term, stemming
from mythic thinking and, through a long history, eventually developing
into one of the finest intellectual achievements of India. Like “reflection
upon oneself” its expression is a metaphor, but, I think, a much more
apposite one, namely “self-luminous” in Sanskrit svayaṃ-jyotis or
svayam-prakāśa. “Light, “ “shining” is a self-explanatory and widely used
metaphor to denote all acts and states of consciousness and cognition
and perception. “Self-luminosity” implies both the spirit’s awareness of
its self and its capability of making objects, both mental and material,
appear in the range of consciousness. (167)
I have more to say concerning the status of Light as “metaphor” in
Chapter 3. But, to continue following Hacker’s account, he then goes on to make
the point that in Neoplatonism, the understanding of Light moves beyond
cognition into a full-blooded metaphysics of Light, a “philosophical aspect that
may be called an epistemological ontology” (167). Recalling McVoy’s doctrinal
exposition of the metaphysics of Light from Chapter 1 of this study, the
illuminative theory of knowledge can only be understood as “an expression of
being and activity, participation and order—in short of the metaphysics of light”

49
(“Light” 139). Moreover, as is shown in Chapters 3 and 4 of this study, the
inherent nature of Light as such is self-awareness.
I have quoted at length from this essay of Hacker’s because in his
comparative study between Neoplatonism and Vedānta/Advaita Vedāntism he
has anticipated with remarkable precision some of the major themes of the
present study, which compares Suhrawardī, a medieval Islamic Neoplatonist,
with Abhinavagupta, a Kashmiri Śaivite whose thought emerged within the
current of Indian thought that in many respects continued to look to Vedānta as
foundational, even while critiquing it.
Hacker began by recognizing a problem in the Neoplatonic account of
cognition as involving έπιστροφέ προς έατου, or epistemic reflexivity, because,
as Vedānta had discovered, the notion of the knower taking itself as an object is
inherently self-contradictory. He solved this problem by arguing that the
Neoplatonic account understands reflexive awareness as self-manifestation or
self-luminosity—which is not self-contradictory—rather than as the self
representing itself to itself as an object—which is. He supported this by noting
the similar use of Light terminology in both Neoplatonism and Vedānta to
describe self-awareness, which would indicate that sense in which self-
awareness was understood was the same in both.
Now, it is precisely this distinction between two ways of understanding
self-knowledge and the identification of self-luminosity as the correct one that
stands at the core of Suhrawardī’s Illuminationist philosophy. In describing

50
luminous self-awareness Hacker wrote that “the denial of objectivity on the part
of spirit naturally involves its proximity to the subject of knowledge” (166).
Suhrawardī is more precise. It is not proximity that is involved, but rather
presence. Suhrawardī’s term for this luminous self-awareness is “knowledge by
presence” (al-‘ilm al-ḥuḍūrī) which he contrasts with “knowledge by
representation” (al-‘ilm al-rasmī) which refers to the subject-object knowledge
which Hacker, following the Vedānta, finds to be self-contradictory. Later, in
Chapter 4, I examine how Suhrawardī employs what is essentially the same line
of argumentation to show the identical result—that the self’s knowledge of itself
must be in the form of knowledge by presence rather than knowledge by
representation.
In taking up the question of “why the idea of epistemological reflexivity is
alien to Vedantic thought,” Hacker prudently qualifies this by remarking, “I am
not speaking of Indian thought in general.” Indeed, for “epistemological
reflexivity” can serve as a reasonably adequate translation of vimarśa, which
along with prakāśa, lies at the heart of Abhinavagupta’s annutara trika kula in
much the same way that al-‘ilm al-ḥuḍūrī and nur al-anwār, the Light of Lights,
lies at the heart of Suhrawardī’s ḥikmat al-ishrāq. Moreover, these terms
together essentially constitute Hacker’s “philosophical aspect that may be called
an epistemological ontology” (167). To see this one need only consult
Dyczkowski’s definition of these terms:

51
Absolute consciousness understood as unchanging ontological ground of
all appearing is termed “Prakāśa”. As the creative awareness of its own
Being, the absolute is called “Vimarśa”. “Prakāśa” and “Vimarśa”—the
Divine Light of consciousness and the reflective awareness this Light has
of its own nature—together constitute the all-embracing fullness
(pūrnatā) of consciousness. (Doctrine 59)
Yet note that these philosophical concepts which support Abhinavagupta’s
system and Kashmiri Śaivism in general—what Hacker calls “epistemological
reflexivity” and “epistemological ontology”—are by his account both
characteristics of Neoplatonism that are fundamentally “alien to Vedāntic
thought” (167). But then this would imply that Kashmir Śaivism, at least in these
respects, is doctrinally closer to Neoplatonism than it is to Vedānta. Perhaps this
is why, in his magisterial study of Abhinavagupta’s life and works, Pandey felt
compelled to write that in approaching aspects of Abhinavagupta’s thought we
would inevitably be “reminded of the Philosophy of Plotinus” (631). Both
Suhrawardī and Abhinavagupta explicitly define the Light of self-awareness
precisely as Hacker suggests it was understood by Neoplatonism and Vedānta: it
is “both the spirit’s awareness of its self and its capability of making objects, both
mental and material, appear in the range of consciousness” (167).
There is another issue touched upon by Hacker which prefigures
elements to be touched upon in this study. In this case it is an area of
fundamental difference that he finds to exist between Neoplatonism and
Vedānta that is also carried through into the work of Suhrawardī and
Abhinavagupta. This concerns the Neoplatonic world of Intelligible Forms, a

Abhinavagupta and the metaphisics of light

Abhinavagupta and the metaphisics of light

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