On The Creation Of New Heavens
Markus Srik
2 February 2010, 04:37In the beginning is always a story (so the rule books say), and so, let us start with one.
There was once, or could have been, in an ancient land now called India, a king called Trishanku who was mighty and possessed of wealth, lands and progeny. Rather than seek to expand his dominion on our plane, he set his sights on a loftier (literally) goal: he wished to enter heaven in his mortal form. He sought the services of his Guru, who, indignantly and unequivocally, refused the impertinent request of his lord. The King, unfazed, hastened to the sons of the Guru, also reputed to be capable, an act perhaps not in the best of tastes. The sons, sages themselves, took umbrage at the insult to their father’s counsel, and cursed the King. He was reduced to the form of a Chandala, one without caste, and doomed to wander the earth, eating the flesh of dogs. This circumstance was very depressing for the former King, and he would have persisted in his misery, had not another former king taken pity on him. This was a great sage called Vishwamitra, or Friend to the Universe.
Vishwamitra set about arranging the prescribed rites to summon the Devas (cognate, incidentally, with Latin deus, divus, God), the residents of heaven, that they might take Trishanku with them to the celestial sphere. However, repelled by what they considered an impious act, one never before permitted by the laws of the universe, most of the invited rishis refused to attend. Not even the sons of Vishwamitra, rishis too, assented. In his rage, Vishwamitra cursed his children and they ceased to be rishis; indeed, were not even permitted to be humans. And he proceeded to perform the ritual himself.
But, at the culmination, after all the shlokas (verses) had been read and oblations poured into the now-sacred fire, there was only silence. The wind appeared to have died. Of celestial beings, there was no sign. Perplexed, Vishwamitra repeated the final invocation. This time too, no response came forth, no immortal materialized.
And Vishwamitra’s anger at the divine snub knew no bounds. He rose up from his place at the fire and said unto the increasingly subdued Trishanku, “I have promised you heaven, and to heaven shall you now go!”. He then called upon his own powers, granted to him by the Gods in recognition of his monumental meditation performed over centuries, and caused Trishanku to be lifted up and sent hurtling towards heaven.
As a consequence, the natural order of things in heaven were disturbed, and many evil omens were seen, an unprecedented state of events. The Devas rushed to their revered seer, Brihaspati, and desired direction – why were these monstrous things happening, and what was to be done? Brihaspati, grown ancient in wisdom, disclosed to them the cause, it was because a man could not be permitted to enter heaven in his mortal form, but the Devas and he were powerless against the might of Vishwamitra. Only the Gods could now prevail, and he suggested they be approached. The Devas approached Brahma, the Creator of the Universe, and implored him to act in their cause. They did so, and Brahma willed that Trishanku be barred from heaven.
There was Trishanku then, stuck between heaven and earth, supported on one side by the powers of the Friend to the World, and thwarted from further progress by the Creator of the World. Brahma then called upon Vishwamitra and bade him realize that cosmic laws may not be easily tampered with, that Trishanku would not be suffered to enter heaven.
The witnesses on both realms trembled at the impasse – who knew what would next happen? It was then that Vishwamitra, in his pride, and cognizant of his own powers, proclaimed, “If the Devas will not have you in heaven, then I will create a second one!”. And so it came to pass that a rival heaven was created, and the old storytellers have it that the constellation called Saptarishi, or Seven Sages, variously called the Big Dipper, Plough, Wagon, Karlavagnen, Großer Wagen or Horse, part of Ursa Major, is how we have long known this second heaven. The cosmic order was preserved and Trishanku finally had his wish, though at no little expense.
Rich as this tale is in its insights into the human condition and our understanding of our place in this world, one aspect is particularly fascinating: the creation of a heaven.
In the third essay of his Zur Genealogie der Moral (On The Genealogy Of Morals, 1887), Nietzsche writes:
The famous story of King Vishwamitra comes to mind, who, through a thousand years of self torment attained such a feeling of power and confidence that he set about creating a new heaven – that strange symbol of the oldest and most recent history of philosophers on this planet.
He goes on to add:
Of course, everyone who has ever created a “new heaven”, has found the power to that first in his individual hell…
(original German: Ich erinnere an die berühmte Geschichte des Königs Viçvamitra, der aus tausendjährigen Selbstmarterungen ein solches Machtgefühl und Zutrauen zu sich gewann, dass er es unternahm, einen neuen Himmel zu bauen: das unheimliche Symbol der ältesten und jüngsten Philosophen-Geschichte auf Erden, – Jeder, der irgendwann einmal einen »neuen Himmel« gebaut hat, fand die Macht dazu erst in der eignen Hölle…)
His favourite “artist of the German language”, Heinrich Heine, too was aware of the story, but wrote of Vishwamitra when the sage was still a king, driven by lust to war, against a rishi.
When shall we dare to enter heaven in our mortal form? Differently phrased, what is our vision for the world?
A world without malaria and AIDS; without terrorists and starved children? What is the case for the redistribution of wealth, or, even, for the generation of wealth? What is the metaphorical Promised Land – that we move the bulk of mankind to the services sector, for the human soul must not be sullied in drudgery, that we bring down the retirement age, that we delay the exit from the educational system, that welfare, health insurance and housing be universal? That societies become confident enough of themselves to allow all transgressions except the most serious ones to remain unprosecuted (coincidentally, a Nietzschean idea), that all adhere to some chosen religious system, or even two? If a means-goals dichotomy is permissible, then efficient machines, high economical output, corruption-free police, democracy, voluntary carbon trading, clean streets and suchlike are perhaps the means.
Is cultural produce the goal? Art not just protects us from the monsters that dwell in the darkness of the night, but it is the reason we must live through it, to celebrate the dawn, and every season. But opinions on the value of Beethoven’s Ninth differ, and even when they do not, few suggest that all further musical innovation cease. Let us be thankful for intellectual diversity. That is why freedom is beautiful (Freedom, akin to German frei and Dutch vrij, from the Indo-European base prei, to be fond of; also the root of Sanskrit priya, dear, desired). And it is because we may think differently that there may be no universal goal shared by all mankind, though we may collaborate to facilitate means.
New goal: to create our own, individual heavens.
