The scriptural injunction concerning knowledge is the study of one's own Vedas—that is, Vedic study itself is a type of "injunction" (prescriptive statement). It yields no separate fruit; just as performing sacrifice brings heaven, or performing sacrifice for rain brings crops—there are fruits such as these; but the injunction to study the Vedas yields no distinct fruit. Why? Because its fruit is inherent within itself. Understanding the meaning of sacrifices and rituals—this is the direct, visible fruit of Vedic study. Therefore, this injunction does not depend upon some other commendatory statement to obtain its fruit. A commendatory statement means speaking something not as the primary injunction's purpose, but for praise or encouragement. For example: "If you perform sacrifice, you will become great"—this is not the primary fruit, but rather a statement made to inspire. But Vedic study requires no separate commendatory verses to support it, because its own purpose is fulfilled—conveying the meaning of sacrifices.
Let me illustrate with an example. "Go to school every day, study." Here there is no separate fruit, because studying itself yields a fruit → the acquisition of knowledge. The primary purpose of study is to gain knowledge. Again—"If you pass the examination, you will receive a degree." Here there is a distinct fruit—the degree. The purpose of study points toward another fruit. In the case of the Vedas, we may say: Vedic study = going to school every day to study. Its fruit is not something separate, but understanding the meaning of sacrifices and injunctions as described in the Vedas—this is the direct fruit. Sacrifice or ritual = passing an examination and receiving a degree. Their fruits are heaven, rain, children, and so forth. Vedic study does not seek a separate fruit from some commendatory statement. Because its own fruit lies within—just as "studying produces learning," so too "studying the Vedas produces understanding of sacrifice."
Refutation: The view presented is flawed, because the being of whom the Upanishads teach is different from the agent and the enjoyer. Who is 'he'? The 'he' taught in the Upanishads = the Self/witnessing consciousness—who in truth performs no action and enjoys no fruit. We obtain knowledge of this being (Self-knowledge) from Vedanta/the Upanishads alone, from nowhere else. Knowledge of this being produces no action—attainment of Self-knowledge does not mean becoming an agent, but rather the dissolution of the illusion of agency. Therefore, Self-knowledge cannot be called an auxiliary to sacrifice or a producer of it.
Chandogya, 8.15.1: "He consumes nothing" → the witnessing being is no enjoyer. Mundaka, 3.1.1: "Another merely sees, does not eat" → the witnessing being is only the seer, not an agent or enjoyer. In daily experience, the 'person' who performs sacrifice (the agent) and enjoys its fruit (the enjoyer)—this person we know directly through everyday experience. Therefore, to teach us of this agent-enjoyer person, scripture is unnecessary; scripture's function is to point to that witnessing being, who transcends the agent-enjoyer. Since the Upanishadic Self is actionless and enjoyer-less, no action arises from Self-knowledge. Thus, it is groundless to say that Self-knowledge is subordinate to or auxiliary to sacrifice—herein lies the refutation of the view presented.
Objection: The individual self (jiva) and the Supreme Self (Atman or Brahman) are in truth identical, one and indivisible. This very teaching is expressed in the Chandogya Upanishad (6.3.2)—"by this jiva, by this Self"—what does it mean? Jiva = the one who regards himself as bound to body, mind, and senses, whose experience is limited, who moves about in birth and death, pleasure and pain. Atman = that very essence-being, which is infinite, eternally real, without relation, indestructible, and supreme consciousness. The Upanishad teaches that the jiva is actually the manifestation of Atman, appearing small and limited through identification with body-mind and ego. But in truth, the jiva and Atman are not separate beings. Let us understand through a simple example. The sun in the sky is one, but when its reflection appears in a pond, it seems as though there were a separate sun. The reflected sun = jiva. The original sun = Atman.
# The Nature of Self and Liberation
There is not truly two here—there is but one sun. To speak in terms of electricity and bulbs: electricity is everywhere one. Yet in each bulb, a separate light appears. The light in the bulb = the individual self (jīva). Electricity = the Ātman. Though the light seems distinct, the source is singular.
The essence of the teaching in the Chāndogya Upaniṣad is this: the individual self (the manifest ātman) and the Ātman (the Supreme Self) are identical. The distinction we perceive—”I am small, limited, helpless”—is the result of illusion and ignorance. When one attains self-knowledge, one understands: “I am truly nothing other than that infinite Ātman.”
**Objection:** This is true; yet the individual self as it is bound to ignorance (avidyā)—this is what we directly know in daily experience. And it is precisely this knowledge of the individual self that provides the reason for performing ritual acts (yajña); there is no need for scripture to teach this. But the Supreme Ātman—who is self-luminous and free from all distinction—must assuredly be known through scripture; and this self-knowledge stands opposed to ritual action. How then can it be said that ritual action itself is the visible fruit of this knowledge?
This may be explained thus: one who knows the Ātman—who is the highest bliss, who is one and without a second—why would such a person perform any action at all? And how could he perform any action? Because all his desires are fulfilled, and there remains no means for action itself. Some hold that there is no relation between ritual and knowledge, for they oppose each other. Ritual is bound to duality, knowledge to non-duality. But this is mistaken; if it were truly so, then the arising of non-dual knowledge would be impossible for them. For by their own reasoning, there would be conflict between knowledge of distinction (known through the senses, mind, and other means) and non-dual knowledge.
**Objection:** Since means and end do not exist simultaneously, there is no conflict between them; when non-dual knowledge arises, all distinction vanishes. There is no conflict between them; nor does the presence of one cause the other to cease being either end or means. For the means always occurs earlier in time—at which point the distinctions (such as the instruments of knowledge) have not yet vanished. Moreover, distinction itself is the means by which non-dual knowledge arises.
**Refutation:** If that is so—if we accept that there is no conflict between means and end because they do not coexist but occur in sequence—then the same would hold between knowledge and ritual acts. For rituals would also count as means (just as the instruments of knowledge—perception, inference, and the rest—are means to knowledge), and ritual would then be considered a means.
**Objection:** Since Brahman is not something to be accomplished, ritual has no application to it; and the scriptures declare: “What is not a fruit (namely, Brahman) cannot be brought forth by what is accomplished (by ritual).” (Muṇḍaka Upaniṣad, 1.2.12). These acts are also ineffective for the origination of knowledge, for knowledge depends upon the instruments of knowledge. Ritual cannot even be an aid to knowledge, for there is nothing to be accomplished by knowledge. Liberation is not something to be accomplished by knowledge, for if it were, it would not be eternal. Consider what “accomplished by knowledge” means. If liberation were something that knowledge produces or creates, then liberation would be a product—something that did not exist before and came into being later. Any “created thing” arises within time. What is born must also perish. Thus if liberation were newly created by knowledge, it would become impermanent.
Liberation (mokṣa) is eternal, ever-existent. It is not something to be artificially attained. The very nature of the Ātman is liberation—it has always been present. Ignorance obscures it; knowledge merely removes that veil.
Liberation is not created by action. It is the soul’s intrinsic condition—eternal, indestructible. Knowledge merely dispels the veils of maya and ignorance to reveal that liberated nature already present. Thus it may be said: the destruction of the cause of bondage is indeed something to be accomplished, and when that cause is destroyed, its absence brings liberation. But if this is so, what is the cause of bondage? If the answer given is—primordial ignorance is the cause of bondage—then its destruction is accomplished through knowledge, and by nothing else; for the arising of knowledge is itself the destruction of ignorance.
Let us suppose that the arising of knowledge destroys that ignorance (which is non-apprehension—the failure to grasp truth). For only the arising of something positive can destroy the non-existence that precedes it. Yet the arising of knowledge does not destroy erroneous cognition. In truth, one positive entity cannot destroy another positive entity, because positive entities do not bear a relation of mutual non-existence; if they did, the result would be void.
A positive entity is that which truly exists—knowledge, objects, experience—all are positive. Mutual non-existence means: if two things bear the nature of destroying one another, they cannot coexist. As light and darkness cannot. If one says, “A positive entity can destroy another positive entity,” then the presence of one must entail the absence of the other. This means all positive entities would destroy one another → ultimately nothing would remain → nihilism would result.
If we suppose that knowledge (positive) and error (positive) are of equal nature, and if the arrival of knowledge “directly destroys” error, then the logic would follow: one positive entity can destroy another positive entity. If this principle were universal, then all things destroying one another would leave nothing in the end. Therefore it is said: positive entities do not possess such a nature. Positive entities cannot be destroyed by one another. If they could, all existence would vanish, leaving only void. Thus erroneous knowledge is not destroyed directly by knowledge itself, but by the absence of ignorance.
The cause of erroneous knowledge is the failure to perceive truth (non-apprehension). For example: because we do not recognize the rope (non-apprehension), we mistake it for a serpent (erroneous knowledge). Thus it is said that when non-apprehension is removed—when we come to recognize the rope—erroneous knowledge vanishes of itself. But this explanation is not entirely correct. For non-apprehension is negative (an absence), and no mere “absence” can truly be a cause. To be a cause, there must be some positive power or process. If non-apprehension truly were the cause of erroneous knowledge, then where truth is not grasped at all—as in unconscious states (swoon, sleep)—error should be greatest. Yet in fact, during swoon or sleep, no erroneous knowledge occurs.
Non-apprehension alone is not the cause of error. Erroneous knowledge arises when non-apprehension is joined with imagination or misapprehension. Thus it is not mere non-apprehension (absence) that is responsible, but rather the positive dimension of ignorance—the power that generates false knowledge—that is the true cause. What then is its cause? It has been said: “Ignorance, which is primordial and without purpose.” And there is no place for questioning the cause of ignorance itself.