Recollecting Robert Papini

In Memoriam

Robert Papini in meditation at Vaults & Garden cafe,
University Church of St Mary the Virgin, Oxford, 2007.

 

This is a belated tribute to Robert Papini, particularly for his contributions to interfaith, notably with the International Association for Religious Freedom.  I also include excerpts from his other activities, with a sprinkling of quotes to offer glimpses of his erudition.  I hope to highlight in these brief excerpts how he exemplified the voluntary and vocational nature of his work and reflected deeply.

Background

Robert was originally from South Africa, with Italian ancestry through his father who was originally from Florence.  Possessing an open and inquisitive mind, he developed an interest in people, culture and the environment, which he nurtured throughout his life.  His academic study included two degrees in the UK: a Bachelor’s in English and African & Caribbean Studies at the University of Kent at Canterbury and a Master of Studies in Ethnology and Museum Ethnography together with Museology at the Department of Ethnology & Prehistory/ Pitt Rivers Museum, University of Oxford (as a member of Linacre College).  This led to employment as a Research Officer in the Local History Museums, Durban from 1989 to 2002.  Some fruits of his research are evident in papers on his Academia site.

Robert at IARF

About a year later, from November 2003, he started a new job in Oxford, as General Office Administrator at the Secratariat of the International Association for Religious Freedom (IARF). IARF is one of the first international interfaith organisations, which traces its formation to 1900 and is a UN NGO with general consultative status, which means it can be consulted on any matter, not just religion.

Robert was soon immersed at his desk in a compact office space, within a series of rooms on the top floor of a corner block in Market Street, which also housed the World Congress of Faiths (WCF), the International Interfaith Centre (IIC) and, in little more than a storage room, Rissho Kosei-Kai (RKK).  There he started to familiarise himself with the organisation and the distinctive features of dealing with adherents of world religions and the complexities of faith-based issues.  There were numerous projects that needed planning and facilitating.  It was a demanding initiation into international interfaith work.

I had been a member of the IIC and kept in touch with the office, sometimes exchanging e-mails.  At the beginning of March 2004, I sent a note about a Dhammakaya meditation session that I was organising at the Friends Meeting House in St Giles, which was circulated internally.  Robert picked it up and was interested.  He had already practised Vipassana as taught by S.N. Goenka, but was open to exploring other methods. 

However, he was swamped by work.  It was not until June, when another series of classes was on offer, that he felt that he was starting to cope with his role and ready to attend, commenting early in June 2004:

Many thanks for this; six months on, & I'm a bit more on top of admin routines at IARF, so have some time for myself now. Am definitely there for the first & last of the dates mentioned...

Robert did make it, but only just, and couldn’t stay:

Very sorry to have had to walk out on the class - please excuse, I was just so shattered from the day's work, found myself dropping off as soon as the eyes closed, in spite of all efforts!

I need to have a good day at work first, I realise...

Robert’s exhaustion came from his wholehearted efforts and over the next years he continued to grapple with – what seemed to me – an exceedingly demanding job.  In typical corporate style, his job titles were frequently shuffled without a clear career progression; from Office Administrator, he became (in succession): Office & Research Co-ordinator, Executive Officer, Office Manager and later he signed off merely as Admin.

Occasionally, Robert’s dissatisfaction was intense (he once admitted to me that he had walked out on an important meeting), but by and large, Robert gradually found his way, managing the challenges more effectively.  One of his most impactful involvements was in human rights education, especially in India, resulting in numerous training sessions.

In parallel, with opportunities to explore near and far, he developed his leisure activities. He drew on a long-standing interest in photography that inspired the likes of High School students and photojournalists (archived), with camera in hand, he started to reacquaint himself with the geography of Oxford and the Thames, dutifully contributing photographs of historic landmarks to the Historic England Archive IOE Series.

In Osaka

His travel abroad provided an opportunity for him to apply his empathic approach towards different cultures and for others to experience his considerable writing skills, whether that meant capturing the zeitgeist in brief pithy comments or much longer, evocative narratives.  This was epitomised in an unexpected turn of events. 

By 2007, as documented in the annual report of 2008/9, IARF was suffering a crisis and underwent major organisational change with operations moved to Japan.  After holding the fort in Oxford, Robert, as the sole surviving staff member, was sent to Osaka in mid-December, to run operations out of IARF’s Japan office, assisted by unpaid volunteers.  At the invitation of Reverend Yoshinobu Miyake, he was hosted by the Konko Church of Izuo (of the Shinto tradition), one of the charity’s main supporters.

Robert was once again having to orientate himself in a new culture and, despite severe financial constraints, he embraced it with enthusiasm, vividly penning his initial impressions:

Getting back to UK end-2003 was a buzz, but this is another order of excitement. Always been hard for me to remember what it's like when you land blind in a totally new country where the script is a scribble to you, and a handful of words is all you have.

During his first week, his creative juices started flowing:

18/12/2007
OK, this should be on a blog, but gimme time - I just got here...!.

(How about 17 years or so?)

He could barely wait to describe his environment:

Evening of my third day as a transient of Izuo neighbourhood, Osaka – just got back from my first real solo sortie into the surrounds, & my virgin supermarket safari. Been itching to get reactions to file, so lucky i brought over the old Toshiba laptop from Oxford, as no office PC bought yet, let alone set up in the new IARF office, which is double ex-res rooms two doors along from my little living-cell here on level three, topmost, of the Izuo Konkokyo church residential block (From my window, that's filled with the watercolour-fine foliage of dwarf bamboo and looks directly onto the Ancestors' Hall, I can see the massive coped gable of the mighty temple's great tiled roof, which is steep & gold-monogrammed, and the antique pale green of oxidized bronze).

The loaded term 'cell' i mean in the fully positive sense – i'm sat tapping away right now on the beautiful fine-weave /tatami/ mat flooring that's integral to the traditional Japanese home, with enough room on one edge of the living space to have a mattress, on the other a thin futon for my morning & evening bodywork; no furniture, but a roomy built-in cupboard & wall-mounted heater/aircon. My tiny kitchenette has a sink, mini-fridge & single electric ring, which would be fine anyway (though you might think I look a bit outlandish looming over my wok in its recess) but there's a much bigger cooking space, with gas, in the office-to-be, where i'll likely do most feeding..

Robert proceeded to describe his use of the local public bath (for his ‘cell’ had no shower or bath) as very much a social activity, but a tradition in decline as a result of Western influence.  Then came further details of his residence,

So anyway – there it is, my monkish cell with its outhouse ablutions. In all it's small for a great lunk of a spotty barbarian like me, kinda 'cubicular' i guess, but perfect for your stripped-down living, your monastic aspiration, and i have near-perfect silence here. There's a little street goes down the one side of this long 3-storey residential block, but hardly any traffic, and it's utterly charming, in the way of everything i've seen so far in the neighbourhood: /so/ different from our innercity streetscapes, obv everything three-quarter size, yes, but in many other ways such an insight into pre-modern urbanity while being totally modern, and refreshingly non-postmodern in the human scale of it, the sense of neighbourhood & the diversity & almost hobbitonian individuality of structures, the mingling of small business with residential, the balconies, jungle of oldstyle wiring overhead through all the interlinked alleyways & arcades that make up our Izuo 'hood, in the district here of Sangenya Nishi, a ward of Taisho, one of the many areas of what is a truly huge, trade-grown megasprawl between distant coastal mountain range and bay, with a good part of it reclaimed from the sea (including the airport, built by infilling the bay with mountain-top) --- and much of that in centuries well before the Dutch began their much-celebrated polders.

Bringing his historical survey into present times, he paused again to reflect:

Not too hard then, wandering about, to sense for oneself how the cities of pre-modern Japan must have been before American bombs & the post-war boom ushered in the built environment we see now. And this Now itself is all very much of that era; what gives the charm is the 50s/60s retro feel in building design, kinda like visions of old-school futurists, now a little worn & dated, but very much inhabited & alive, & conforming well to a certain stereotype we have of Japan (or at least, that the sophisticated have; I'm disturbed to discover how crude were my notions of this country & culture - just as with everywhere unknown, you come to realise. Pious it may sound to ask again, but the old chestnut stands: When will we learn to attribute the very same full humanity to others as we do to ourselves & 'our own'? Travel the cure? Shame it has to be on fossil fuel).

And found other sites particularly striking for being of a certain period:

Took a wander around the neighbourhood this afternoon … Found my way into the Osaka Dome (Police & Bon Jovi to play soon), & it's so /very/ much of its time - 80s futurist, now beginning to wear a bit. This was the Wembley Arena of its day, and vast it must have seemed then. Still pretty impressive. They have some kind of snowmaking lark going on at the top level, & loads of young people were buying snowboarding & other gear at a big indoor market, then queuing to get in. All the rage, obv. Minded me of Dubai's snow mountain in the desert, & other insanities of the incipient anthropocene era of atmosphere-wrecking.

Back in the office, it was time to deal with some practicalities.

Izuo, Osaka

18 Dec 07

dears

First day spent assembling the few bits of office furniture, devilish diagrams but eventually got them figured & glued, banged & screwed all together, trala, with just one cockup, of slight consequence though odd appearance (I blame it on a skewhiffed hands-off education. Come naa then, Bob the Builder To Be, make yo papa's ghost proud...)..

He was seemingly adopting the famed Japanese work ethic, as exemplified by his distinguished host:

 … Tomorrow we go off to Kyoto again, this time to some of the great shrines, for a 'greeting'. And it seems there's a trip to Tokyo next week, for this G8 Religious Leaders thing of Rev. Miyake's. He richly deserves the honorific 'tireless' that's given him in the biography of his grandfather that i'm reading: having gotten back from Tokyo at 3.30am this morning, after three top-level meetings with cabinet secretaries, etc., he was up at 4.30am to hold a temple service, then hit the desk to complete a newsletter for a 11am deadline! Even with the flu that he's inevitably picked up (quite a few people going about in facemasks, as it's said to be bad this year), he remains cheerful as ever, happy to help me out, managing well enough without his office girls today (Tuesday is a day off around here).

After an eventful start, he was in good spirits, sending the following note to welcome the arrival of 2008:

Dear friends

This year I count myself probably the first of you to greet the new year, here in Osaka, on the western Pacific rim. Aah yes - to be first, for once... ;}

(Most of you at least nine or ten hours away from first continental landfall of Jan 1st. 2008, some much more. Shame... But the suspense is everything, right?)...

Enjoy it when it comes, & here's to the year -- hope you're facing it with courage & commitment.

As ever -  Life, Love & Unity  !

Robert was in his element on this sojourn.  With his stay being extended, his wife, Catherine, went over several times to join him.  After a successful spell that met the approval of his hosts, he returned towards the end of 2008 to establish a ‘virtual office’, subsequently returning to Osaka for shorter spells.  In the minutes of the IARF Council Meeting of March 2009, the Personnel Committee reported:

Guji Takahiro Miwa had supervised the Osaka Office and was pleased with Robert’s performance. From November 2008 Robert had operated a virtual office from his London home and this had worked well with appropriate cooperation from the Church of Konko, whose staff had checked the incoming post. The three months in Osaka and three months in London arrangement will continue during 2009. A motion of thanks to Guji Takahiro Miwa, Guji Yoshinobu Miyake and Robert Papini was passed by acclamation.

Through generosity and fruitful collaboration, IARF survived and was able to maintain a significant international presence, providing input on a range of issues that affected religious practice directly and indirectly.  Robert provided a continuous thread to all these activities, not merely in fulfilling his office duties in practical terms, but, more profoundly, by his sincere cultural adaptation, demonstrating a deep dialogue with the Japanese members who provided the main financial support.  He earned considerable respect and hence encouragement to keep going.

Laying Foundations for Digital Communications

IARF’s severely limited financial resources prompted the organisation to make increasing use of electronic means of communication, a direction already evident in Council Meeting minutes of 2009.

Robert was again instrumental in this development; the ‘IARF - RFYN Young Adults’ Human Rights Training, Kolkota: 2011’ report noted:

Mr. Robert the administrator-IARF has began with session where he has made us know actualization of HRD ie “Human Rights Defenders” He introduced us with the various sources from where we can began and channelize our revolution towards Peace. In his continuing session he has mention the various ways ie media, SMS, Facebook, and Twitter can play significant Role.

The IARF Website was intended to be central to these developments.  Unfortunately, it was not fit for purpose.  Navigating from the home page, one  encountered pages authored in 2009, in one design, and a presumably early 2008 design used for news in 2010.  The site also had a discussion forum that was swamped by spam, and with custom PHP coding that was not maintained, the security status was questionable.  And then there were the styling and presentation issues, the variability in layout, fonts, colour schemes.  All in all it was a mess.

So IARF sought a solution based on an established content management system and Robert was tasked with delivering it.  A tender was put out, to which several companies responded, but I suspect that the budget was not adequate for commercial rates – even after significant discounts.  It likely prompted a reassessment and a reaching out to existing contacts in the hope of finding someone with requisite skills (and a charitable disposition).  That let Robert to me.

At that time, I was employed half-time as Web Officer at the Museum of the History of Science, so I had some spare capacity.  And having developed and consolidated the museum’s web offerings in WordPress, I had some idea about content management.

On 11 May, following a face-to-face chat, Robert sent me their requirements document.  At the end of the month, after further exchanges, Robert wrote:

Apropos, this email is really to tell you some good news (well, I hope it's good for you! - i.e. that you're not committing out of any sense of obligation to the interfaith cause.  The consensus seems to be that our new site project is in better hands with you than with some anonymous vendor for whom we're just another client.

Agreement was reached, and I started the work in early June.

There was endless scope for design, but Robert kept things fairly simple - it would suffice to make the site resemble or, at least, be in tune with the United Nations(!).  At that time, the U.N. site was heavily information-oriented, with hierarchical navigation, which actually suited me because I tend to think that way and am not a specialist in front-end graphic design or user interfaces. I proceeded to customise an existing WordPress theme by Brian Johnson, a member of the IARF US Chapter, extending it to accommodate the wider remit of the parent organisation.

Robert was keen for the site to emphasise its global scope and for it to act as a conduit in both directions and he wanted visitors to be aware of this and hence the use of the Pulsemaps heat map WordPress plugin.  He also sought to offer various means for essential communication from those directly affected by religious persecution.  Hence the Skype contact and the brief contact form, encrypted in case of snooping, especially by state authorities.

The main work was completed in about six months, in time for Christmas 2011; the site was duly delivered on a new virtual private server with not insubstantial system resources allocated.  I provided various documentation and training with further consultancy in subsequent months, when I departed for Qatar to take up a full-time post at the Qatar Museums Authority.  I would come back periodically to the UK and as Robert lived near Heathrow, we met up a couple of times in Terminal 4 before my departure back to the Gulf.

Whilst laborious, the website re-development project consolidated Robert’s knowledge of the entire organisation in its various strands, right across the world.  The international scope was reflected in Robert’s promotion of IARF work on social media, establishing a Flickr group, which featured the Human Rights Education and Training Programme in India.

where he was also involved in panel discussions

With the projects being delivered, his contributions became duly recognised in various countries outside the UK, not just Japan and India.  For example, for his role in the founding of the Kenya chapter:

To IARF administrator brother Robert Papini, I thank him for all the support he has shown towards the formation of IARF Kenya chapter.”  (Rev. Lawrence Adera, Secretary General IARF Kenya chapter)
Midview Hotel, Nairobi, 20 July 2013

By 2015, the website was well established and in much better shape.

The international reach of IARF was evident in its member groups:

 

Having implemented these major deliverables, Robert decided that it was time he moved on and he retired from his post in June 2015. 

Vade Mecum

Over the years, we met up periodically for wanderings on foot, sometimes joined by Catherine; and after leaving IARF, he had more time to roam. For, Robert noted, “We 'obligate bipeds' are in prime health when doing around 20km per day!”

We met mainly in towns and cities, which served as sources of endless anthropological fascination as we navigated across centuries of development and bounced ideas off each other.  One such meander was in 2016, assisted by Designs of the Times: Self-guided walk through the Square Mile (archive).  Always with Robert, as an allotment holder, having an eye for uncovering green spaces (the so-called secret gardens):

Robert in Christchurch Greyfriars Church Garden.

 

[See also some photos on Flickr.]

The next day, Robert reflected:

a very promising beginning to possible probings of whatever may remain neglected & unilluminated in this breathtaking megalopolis.

And in response to a tentative proposal I had in mind for a “3D illuminations of neglected spaces (or similar)”, he was encouraging, clearly seeing a deeper potential:

I've been interested in Psychogeography for a while, though never had the chance to really go into it. Seems all a bit trendy at the moment, but nonetheless may have merit if it matures along with the kind of technology you're clearly thinking about applying.

[See, e.g., an explanation of the term by the Tate. ]

Occasionally, we met in more rural settings, such as Wytham, where we’d observe other kinds of wildlife going about their business.  But it didn’t really matter where we ambled for Robert was perspicacious in any environment.

Thursday’s Lotus

My own introduction to interfaith work, which led to my meeting Robert, was through my mother, the late Fuengsin Trafford, who worked for 10 years at the Multi-Faith Centre in Birmingham before it ceased operating in the mid-1990s.

Shortly after my mother passed away in 1995, I started writing her biography.  By the time Robert left the offices in Market Street, I had a complete draft and was getting editorial feedback with a view to publication.  Robert offered his services and agreed to compile the index, patiently and painstakingly using DEXter, a clever, but somewhat temperamental tool that provided wonderful automated assistance most of the time, but not always.  A little over twenty years after commencement, Thursday’s Lotus was finally published and I was pleased to present a copy to Robert. 

He graciously responded:

I do have to say, it's such a total pleasure to heft in one's hand the finished work -- thank you!  It's been a while since I was involved in anything that saw the solidity of bound paper.

To say it again, it's been a privilege to be associated with something out of the ambitious world of interfaith that has this much integrity & worth. So much of what I toiled at with IARF so often seemed futile, but your labour of love has gone quite a way to persuading me of the merit of its wider context.

I’m sure that if Robert had been writing to or about someone he worked with at IARF, he would have been more positive, for he appreciated his colleagues in the office; his frustrations were (I feel) to do with the organisation's corporate management.  At the same time, some of these comments came from a natural modesty and humility, indications of his own integrity, which were what encouraged him to persevere.  But also, in hindsight, these were signs of low self esteem.

Environmental Awareness and an unusual Anthropological Project

Robert’s connection with Nature was deep, informed by study of evolution and observation of the present.  In May 2020, the early months of the Covid-19 pandemic, Robert drew further inspiration from cultivating his allotment plot to  fuel a passion for returning to a more sustainable living and community:

I've never been more physically exhausted in any Springtime of soil toil - but it's fantastic, a joyful weariness. The life of plants, I've come to realise, is an allure that beats any that comes out of a screen.

I'm investigating a place called Tinker's Bubble, down in Somerset. Check it out, there's a great video on Vimeo.

Tinkers Bubble is a small off-grid woodland community in Somerset.  This ‘back to basics’ lifestyle was, Robert mused, probably too radical for Catherine (or, indeed, most of the population used to their creature comforts), so he wondered about milder alternatives and, so, I suggested the LandARK.  Naturally, he had already come across it and considered its viability:

Thanks for reminder of this excellent venture, which I stumbled upon years ago, bookmarked, and had not revisited. The question would be, of course, where one might be permitted to plant one's little bubble. Might it help to be tugging one's forelock before the great & good one percent who own more than half this island?

We exchanged further speculative messages against a backdrop of a world in utter confusion, without any definite conclusion.

Meanwhile, at the writing desk, within a year of leaving IARF, Robert embarked on an ambitious writing project, a kind of anthropological novel describing Mesolithic life in Africa.  He was tentative about revealing it, perhaps fearing that it wouldn’t lead anywhere, but did share a few tantalising glimpses.  Robert first mentioned his ideas to me in a park café near SOAS towards the end of October 2017 shortly before I attended an evening meeting of The Biographers' Club.  Afterwards, I wrote to him to relate that there was reflection on how to 'enter' a different time and land; in all cases the key was immersion, directly or indirectly.

Robert responded:

 …  Interesting to hear that biographers do still cherish the credo that it's possible to immerse in another time. It undergirds the whole craft, I suppose, but as the tired saying goes 'The past is another country...they do things differently there'. So I propose to market my work as a satirical subgenre of Fantasy, so absurd do i find the proposition that a modern consciousness can evoke anything faintly approaching the conditions of life even a century back - let alone the millennia that 'prehistoric fiction' wades blithely about in...

Serious fiction is only ever contemporary.

But my hunch is that even as the globe shrinks & the old nomad wanderlust of our kind dies spatially, it will compensate temporally, and while the kids are hurtling off to fantasy worlds rich in dragons & elves, or fearsome deep-space aliens, the adult imagination will want inter alia to probe further & further back into our imagined past.

And what the market calls for, none shall gainsay! Hooray indeed. Long may huddled creatives continue to earn a crust down the 'satirical fantasy' alleyway... with cakes & ale to the trailblazers, of course.  ;)?

Gradually, having got to know about Robert’s project, friends and family became curious about his writing.  I was not alone in thinking that a publisher might be interested and, so, enquired about samples.  In March 2021, replying to a message which had started on zero emission zones, Robert was characteristically thoughtful:

Molweni, bra Paul (Gauteng-greets)

Thanks for asking about my long-ongoing writerly ambitions.
It's become more effortful as I've had to start infilling the structure with plausibly thought-out, anthropologically-informed pattern & process around the storyline.

I wish it were possible to offer some sample, as it seems most creatives are able to do even just a few months after conceiving a project (mine has been five years in the making so far). 

However it's a 'built world' I'm about, so even a short passage would demand of any reader an immersion into backdrop detail (I provide it in maps, timelines, synopses, etc.) which few are prepared to undertake, given the Titanic-scale 'raft of alternatives' on market offer any day of your life... (and all within a few seconds' whisper of your fingers' busy tap-tapping). 

That begs the larger question of whether readerly attention span nowadays has any inclination toward 'built-world immersion' (aka Fantasy?). Maybe the New Pandemia inclines the newly underemployed among them that way? 

I'm counting on a few other things to make the offer stand out - not least that Fantasy has always been hugely ethnocentric. Counting most riskily of all, though, on a readership that's able to slow down, in order make sense of language rendered faux-archaic.
Not much ask there! :)

He confirmed his commitment in further correspondence.:

I've come too far now to abandon it. Huge investment of time, and sacrifice of earnings. Sometimes I do wonder what can have driven me to it!

Sadly, he would never see its completion. 

Robert’s Passing

Robert Papini passed away suddenly and unexpectedly on Saturday 23 April 2022 shortly after 3pm.  Whilst difficult to comprehend, there has since come to light much of biographical interest.  This post offers just a taste of Robert’s life, one that epitomised an enquiring mind and service to humanity. He worked hard, facilitated, inspired and did not seek credit.  It’s especially evident from his time at IARF, where he made a major contribution in delivering projects across the world, touching many people’s lives in a positive way. 

Schlich and Schauberger: The Contrasting Fortunes of Two Distinguished Foresters

[Updated on 15 Sept '20 to insert a photo, transcription and translation of Schlich's memorial stone and again on 18 Sept with updates concerning information on Wikipedia; and on 22 June '25 to revise the opening paragraph, with additional links and to qualify my assertion about a continuous stretch of woodland.]

Sir William Schlich (left) and Viktor Schauberger (right)

Forestry Science

Earlier this month I met up with a former colleague, who gave me a guided tour of Bagley Wood, entering it from his back garden in Kennington.  In millennia gone by it was possibly part of a continuous stretch of woodland that incorporated what we now call Wytham Woods.  Nowadays both are conserved for research purposes and have University connections: Bagley Wood has for centuries been owned by St John’s College, whilst Wytham Woods was bequeathed to the University in the early 1940s.   

This has helped them retain evidence of their historic ancestry, which is important as environmental concerns continue to grow.  In Bagley, I was shown oak trees of various ages and how they are in close alignment with the paths; the ancient ones, many hundreds of years old with their wide trunks, tend to have collapsed, losing their original shape.  Furthermore, such woods are being systematically mapped in detail, revealing the extent of ancient woodland, for instance a study site map for Wytham Woods.  

As we trundled along, we then came across a memorial stone in Latin, dedicated to Wilhelm Schlich (1840-1925), who decades later is described as the founder of forestry science.  

Latin transcription:

In Memoriam Gulielmi Schlich MDCCCXL – MCMXXV Scholae Silviculturae apud Oxoniensis fundatoris et in commemorationem itineris sui ponendae adfuerunt publicis Germaniae silvarum curatoribus viri delecti tum primum publice in Britanniam missi.  Quarto die mensis Aprilis anno MCML.  

My attempt at translation (suggested improvements welcome, else caveat lector!)

In Memory of William Schlich (1840 – 1925), the Founder of the School of Silviculture (Forestry) at Oxford and in commemoration of his journey that led to its establishment; he was initially selected from German forest wardens to enter British service.  [Erected] 4th April 1950.

By applying scientific methods to the cultivation, management, preservation and utilisation of forests, he has influenced generations of forestry specialists and in turn had a major impact on our landscapes today.  It is probably in large part thanks to him that visitors are able to enjoy the conservation woods in this locality; I especially value their presence as many of my ideas have surface in my wanderings through Wytham Woods. 

Yet Schlich’s family did not have any background in forestry; it was an interest he developed himself whilst at university.   Having initially studied mathematics and mechanical engineering, he was inspired to pursue forestry studies by Gustav Heyer, who lectured in the subject.  Schlich’s professional career subsequently flourished in the service of the British Imperial Indian Forestry Service. 

In basic terms, the impetus came from the need to support the economic prosperity of a colonial power with the management and supply of timber stocks.  However, in conducting his work, he developed his appreciation of sustainability and a sense of how forests contribute to general well-being.  It is evident in his magnum opus, the five-volume Manual of Forestry: in Volume 1, concerning forest policy, Schlich starts his introduction with a definition of a ‘forest’, taking account of both natural ‘primeval’ forests and cultivated ‘economic’ forests.  His discussion of the utility of forests (Part 1, Chapter 1) is likewise broad, partitioning it into ‘direct utility’ and ‘indirect utility’; the former treating economic necessity, the latter embracing broader environmental considerations such as temperature and moisture together with factors of well-being (‘hygiene, aesthetics and ethics’).

Schlich recognizes that forests generally create moister climes than exposed land, “On the whole, there can be no doubt that forests preserve humidity to a considerable extent”, more so at altitude, though they also consume water (p.16).  Schlich then goes on to describe mechanical effect of forests, how the water is retained by forests:

Of the rain falling over a forest, close on one-fourth is intercepted by the crowns of the trees, and the other ¾ fall upon a layer of humus which possesses a great capacity of absorbing water and of retaining it for a time.

Some of that water evaporates from the soil covering, but the greater part penetrates into the soil; some of it is taken up by the roots, and the balance becomes available for the feeding of springs.  In this manner well-preserved forests have a decided effect upon the sustained flow of springs.

He goes on to relate that the absorption of water by forests reduces the flood level.  He describes many other health benefits of forests, particularly their release of oxygen into the air and the general absence of pollution, making them beneficial for visitors.

Whilst Schlich describes some of the general effects from the absorption of water in relation to the physical environment and human well-being, he does not (from my cursory reading) appear to say anything about the water itself, its chemical composition, how this might change during the lifecycle, and what this means for the planet and humanity.  Generally speaking, water is treated as a collective mass, an aggregate resource.  For a deeper exploration, we need another voice …

Forests and Water

In 1885, the year Schlich moved to England to take up the pioneering post of Professor of Forestry at the Royal Indian Engineering College, there was to emerge someone else who was to take a deep interest in forests, Viktor Schauberger.   He was born near Linz in Upper Austria into a family that had been foresters for many generations, their motto being Fidus in Silvis Silentibus “Faithful to the Silent Forests” – reflecting a deep awareness of Nature’s harmony, where there is sound, but not noise.  

Thus Schauberger became absorbed in forestry from a very early age.  From early childhood he developed an acute sensitivity to the silvan environment, immersing himself in its embrace, observing and reflecting, especially on water, for hours at a time, heeding well his mother’s advice,

If occasionally life is really hard, and you don't know where to turn, go to a stream and listen to its music. Then everything will be alright again.

[Olof Alexandersson trans.]

Schauberger was encouraged by his parents to pursue higher education studies, but he refused after seeing how his elder siblings had lost much of their intuition; in his view, their minds had become perverted by that formal academic environment.  Instead he trained as a forest warden.  

By observing first hand and developing his intuition, he saw how Nature works in balance, especially in the properties of water and its relationship to the forests.  He came to understand how nutrients are ingested in water cycles – when rainfall sinks deep into the ground it absorbs important minerals vital for life before it rises up again, emerging in springs or otherwise re-entering circulation.  This he called the full water cycle.  On the other hand, with deforestation, the soil bakes and cannot absorb the water, so it runs off, not only leading to flooding, but failing to absorb the minerals.  To Schauberger such water was seriously depleted, it lacked the nutrients of life.  

Based on his understanding of the energetic properties of water, particularly how this is affected by temperature variations, centred around 4 degrees C (water at rest, where energy is greatest), he was able to design and engineer a log flume that led to commissions for other flumes in several countries, one of which was filmed in a 1930 documentary. 

His successes earned him the nickname, the 'water magician' and his reputation grew.  However, whilst this provided funding for valuable research, unfortunately, as he ruefully reflected, he had successfully contributed to deforestation.   From as early as the 1920s, he could clearly foresee the environmental crises that we are experiencing today, moving him to co-found Grüne Front (Green Front), the first environmental movement in Austria, the precursor to the Pythagoras Kepler System.  

Schauberger went on to develop many theories and wrote copiously on a vast array of topics, going beyond water cycles and filtration to jet propulsion, especially utilising his understanding of balancing forces and spiral vortices.  He also was very ‘hands on’, producing many working prototypes, but many of these were appropriated by competing (and often unscrupulous) interests.  As to his written output, he only produced materials in German and using his own unconventional terminology with little interest in translation to contemporary scientific terminology.  It’s not surprising then that, unlike Schlich, you won’t hear about Schauberger in lectures or be able to read his work in university libraries.  In fact, he only published one fairly small book, which had the discouraging title, Unsere sinnlose Arbeit (later released in English as ‘Our Senseless Toil’).   

Fortunately, there are a number of publications that describe his ideas (with greater optimism); much has been translated into English, for which we are indebted especially to Olof Alexandersson and Callum Coats, who spent many years with the Schauberger family, reading, digesting, understanding and translating many of his documents.  

Coats wrote a succinct introduction for Nexus Magazine in three parts, entitled, Who was Viktor Schauberger? (1996).  Coats has also authored more substantial works, including perhaps the most comprehensive guide, Living Energies.  To gain a taste, you can see some of his lectures on YouTube.   One series was recorded on film in 1985, as Sacred Living Geometry - The Enlightened Environmental Theories of Viktor Schauberger - part 1 and part 2.  More recently, he presented at the 2008 Nexus conference. 

Legacies

Today the name of Sir Wilhelm Schlich is very much associated with the advancement of modern forestry practices; he is recognised as a pivotal figure, not only in British forestry, but across the world as a result of Britain’s historical colonial connections.  This is manifest in the Sir William Schlich Memorial Award and the Schlich Memorial Prize.

Meanwhile, Viktor Schauberger remains a fringe figure.  It's evident in his treatment on Wikipedia: he is at least listed in the Forester page, but the his own entry is insubstantial, whilst the associated Talk page is huge and contains much ridicule.   I don't think the handling of his reputation would have disturbed Schauberger for he knew the forests deeply and all that sustained them.   But he was concerned about humanity's treatment of the natural world.  It led him to make a prediction that is eerily prescient: unless we learn how to work in sympathy with Nature and support its proper functioning rather that going against it to exploit our world, we will surely destroy ourselves.  

In his work on water cycles, at least, Schauberger appears to be far more in the consciousness of environmentalists: compare a Google search for the following (just remove the [] brackets): ["water cycle" schlich] and ["water cycle" schauberger].  You will find hardly any matches for Schlich, but many for Schauberger – many are commentaries by environmentalists.

And there is further recognition from engineers and scientists from a range of discplines, some working on flood management, others on more speculative areas.   This is well summarised in a film that has the same title as Schauberger’s, motto “Comprehend and copy nature”.

A few years ago whilst paying a visit to Wytham Village Stores I came across a group of three postgrads.  I got chatting with one of them and asked about his research.  He explained that he was involved in flood alleviation in the Oxford area, specifically the bypass channel to reduce the load on the flood plains. 

I asked him whether he had visited Wytham Woods and he confessed he wasn’t really interested in them!   His response confirms my feeling that more people would really benefit from learning about the work of both Schlich and Schauberger.

On Intuition in the Life and Work of Ramanujan

Portrait photo of Srinivasa Ramanujan in England

These past few weeks I have been engrossed in reading about Srinivasa Ramanujan (1887-1920), the brilliant mathematician from South India whose prolific work in number theory lit up the academic world from the early 20th century onwards.

In my studies in this subject I had heard the name, seen references, but didn't use his work.  Even though he's famous in the mathematical world and in India, I wasn't minded to give much attention until I happened to chat over lunch with Thomas Bewley, who described his experiences of playing Prof. H. F. Baker in the film, The Man Who Knew Infinity.  I promptly ordered a DVD and enjoyed watching the film, so I then ordered the substantial biography of the same name by Robert Kanigel.

I'm writing this having just finished Kanigel's book.  It's extensively researched and very detailed, covering Ramanujan's life and work; whilst aimed at the general reader, quite a lot of mathematical material has been presented, in a generally convincing way – Kanigel is numerate (he has a degree in mechanical engineering) and he has evidently spent considerable time grappling with the material in conversation with scholars.

I particularly like the way he shows how the relevancy of Ramanujan's work and various applications has ebbed and flowed; in his early years he struggled to make known his findings, but gradually some friends and associates tried to help promote his cause until they were able to tap into the British colonial networks.  Eventually there arose opportunity to write to the scholars at Trinity College, Cambridge, Britains' foremost centre for mathematical research.  Even then, Ramanujan had to keep persevering until he succeeded at the third attempt when his genius was recognised by Hardy, who nurtured Ramanujan's talent by instilling the rigours of proof and dissemination of the various results.  After Ramanujan's passing, Hardy continued to promote his cause through papers and continued reference.  Subsequent decades saw changing foci, but recently his work has become of great significance – his “mock theta functions” have been integral to the development of mock modular forms, which are now used in astrophysics, even to model singularities (black holes, etc.).

Personally, I might like to explore his work in partition functions (having a natural interest in combinatorics).  However, I am mainly interested at the moment in Ramanujan's spirituality, what we might learn about intuition.  Kanigel attempts to explore this area, knowing full well that members of the public like especially to know about how a human being can navigate the vicarious aspects of life and its innumerable obstacles, triumphing over adversity – the indomitable spirit.  Kanigel dutifully delves into this with cultural sensitivity – undertaking fieldwork in the foreign lands and cultures of the British Isles and India.  Through the information he gathers from interviewees, Kanigel recreates at some length daily scenes in which Ramanujan lived and breathed mathematics - in Kumbakonam, his home town, and in various other places such as Triplicane (now Tiruvallikkeni) (with its historical sites such as the Arulmigu Sri Parthasarathyswamy Temple), and other areas in the then Madras Presidency (now Tamil Nadu).

Even in a volume as extensively researched as this, the whys and wherefores as to Ramanujan's  mathematical discoveries can't be fully explained when it seeks to explicate an entire life story and indicate especially its mathematical import today.  Even so it's noticeable that whilst Kanigel appears comfortable explaining material facts, he finds it exceedingly difficult to fathom Ramanujan's spiritual inspiration.  Hence overall he writes sympathetically, but when it comes to religious aspects, he doesn't have much to say, and even occasionally strikes an incredulous tone.

For example, referring to a gathering that developed into philosophical discussion he writes (pp. 31-2):

Another time, when he was twenty-one, he showed up at the house of a teacher, got drawn into conversation, and soon was expatiating on the ties he saw between God, zero, and infinity - keeping everyone spellbound till two in the morning. It was that way often for Ramanujan.  Losing himself in philosophical and mystical monologues, he'd make bizarre, fanciful leaps of the imagination that his friends did not understand but found fascinating anyway. So absorbed would they become that later all they could recall was the penetrating set of his eyes.

I don't suppose Ramanujan felt lost; if anything, he was finding deeper relationships in what the author describes as "bizarre" and "fanciful".  Whilst it might have been tantalising to his audience, at the same time the culture readily accepted this kind of expression.

In another chapter Kanigel writes (p.66):

Later, in England, Ramanujan would build a theory of reality around Zero and Infinity, though his friends never quite figured out what he was getting at. Zero, it seemed, represented Absolute Reality. Infinity, or ∞, was the myriad manifestations of that Reality. Their mathematical product, ∞ x 0, was not one number, but all numbers, each of which corresponded to individual acts of creation. 

Kanigel's tone conveys shades of incredulity, but these kinds of views are taken seriously in many parts of the world.  At least in recent centuries, they seem to be more naturally appealing to Asians – from all over, whether the South, South-East, Far East, or the North.  So I'm interested to read accounts from their perspective, particularly Indian interpretations – how do they interpret Ramanujan today?

As Ramanujan is a national hero, there's no shortage of material, a fair amount being helpfully referenced in Kanigel's book.  Arriving as a newcomer, I try to find, where possible, sources with first-hand accounts, ideally published by authorities who have some historical connection.  My starting point has been a broad selection made available by The Institute of Mathematical Sciences in Tamil Nadu, a national research centre.

A section on books lists five volumes, including Kanigel's.  Among the others, I've been looking at  'Ramanujan - The Man And The Mathematician' by S. R. Ranganathan, part of Great Thinkers of India Series, published by Asia Publishing House in 1967.  The publisher is still registered, based in Mumbai, but I can find no website for it.  Dr Ranganathan was a mathematician and library information professional in India; an endowment in his name is associated with another publishing company, Ess Ess Publications limited, and copies of the book are readily available from them.  (But it's also not hard to find a free version online.)

This book records some accounts by those who knew and met with Ramanujan.  One of the respondents is Dr. Mahalanobis, who was there in the late night discussion that Kanigel refers to.  He recalls:

He sometimes spoke of “zero” as the symbol of the Absolute (Nirguna-Brahmam) of the extreme monistic school of Hindu philosophy, that is, the reality to which no qualities can be attributed, which cannot be defined or described by words, and which is completely beyond the reach of the human mind. According to Ramanujan, the appropriate symbol was the number “zero”, which is the absolute negation of all attributes.  He looked on the number “infinity” as the totality of all possibilities, which was capable of becoming manifest in reality and which was inexhaustible. 

(MN Reminiscences of Dr P C  Mahalanobis FRS,
Member of the Planning Commission of India: MP1, p.82)

Ramanujan starts with that philosophical position and then gives it mathematical expression, based on numerical properties that can exhibit the transcendent qualities.  These are not just made up fancifully, but rather there are references to a philosophical school.   Nirguna-Brahmam (or Para Brahman) is described in Hindu texts as the highest spiritual state, the formless Brahman, specifically in the sense of being absent of Maya, illusion.  It's a core belief in the Advaita Vedanta tradition.

Mahalanobis continued:

According to Ramanujan, the product of infinity and zero would supply the whole set of finite numbers.  Each act of creation, as far as I could understand, could be symbolised as a particular product of infinity and zero, and from each such product would emerge a particular individual of which the appropriate symbol was a particular finite number. I have put down what I remember of his views. I do not know the exact implication. 

Whilst Mahalanobis lacked understanding of the finer points, he could gain a general sense of what lay behind Ramanujan's words – there was valid and useful communication.  If they had been completely incomprehensible, then Ramanujan probably would not have sustained interest for so long.  Perhaps more significant still as an indication of the importance of this spiritual view, was the following reflection:

He seemed to have been perhaps emotionally more interested in his philosophical ideas than in his mathematical work. He spoke with such enthusiasm about the philosophical questions that sometimes I felt he would have been better pleased to have succeeded in establishing his philosophical theories than in supplying rigorous proofs of his mathematical conjectures.

This is a significant passage as it points to how important to him was his underlying spirituality of which mathematics was an expressions.  I think we see the deleterious effects of denying him support for this spirituality when Kanigel describes how to many Ramanujan appeared a much-changed man on his return to India in 1919.  Mentally and emotionally he was a different person: whereas previously he was full of fun and sociable in small groups, on his return he appeared withdrawn and angry.  It seems England was able to support his mathematics, but it came at the price of his Brahmin caste (at least for those who did not allow any exemptions to Samudrolanghana, the offence of crossing the sea) and his wellbeing.  There are areas that the book perhaps understates this sacrifice – which was more than the decline in his physical health.  Yet Ramanujan foresaw his own death (“I won't reach 35 years of age”), so the speculation around what might have been regarding alternative life paths and treatments of his tuberculosis should be set against that.

In modern times, we can still find views from India, especially religious teachers, who can give some indications of Ramanujan's spirituality.  Even though they might not have any formal background in mathematics and may lack rigorous language, they can express the 'inner voice', as it were.  For example, in his talk at SRCC College, available in a YouTube video, entitled The Secret of Ramanujan's Genius,  Sadhguru likens deities or, more specifically, murtis (forms) to energetic machines that are able to enhance particular faculties; unlike mechanical devices, such machines don't have moving parts, are easy to maintain, and are available all day and every day.  Ramanujan knew how to use the murti known as the goddess or deity Namagiri to receive mathematical insights and he seemed to be working continuously.  In the short excerpt, it's not explained how one cultivates practice of utilising these murtis, but in India it is typically through yogic or meditative training, and, as for most yogis, Sadhguru gives instruction in these, such as Isha Kriya.

Another perspective is shared in a presentation on teachings by Sri Aurobindo & The Mother: the quality of beauty is highlighted in a post where Sandeep, the author, asks: Where does Mathematics come from?   According to teachings in this tradition, having some correlation to the energetic machines, it as though humans have inner beacons of light that can be directed towards specific arts; an agile mind can shine the light in different directions.  But here, this longer article also emphasizes  development (I'd choose the word bhavana) of the capacity of attention and concentration.  Other posts on that informative site, including one that considers some views of Roger Penrose, describe how a prerequisite is knowing how to bring the mind into stillness (once the mind is at a standstill one can move easily in any direction); bringing the mind to a standstill is  key to allowing novel ideas to arise.

From my own Buddhist perspective, I would highlight that Ramanujan's superlative ability can only come through sustained kusala karma (skilful intentional actions), usually over many lifetimes.  In this way he would have generated puñña (merit), a kind of energetic fuel that with continued cultivation crystallizes as paramis (perfections) – puñña gives you the capacity to achieve, paramis enable that capacity to be readily and instantly available.  Perhaps Ramanujan refrained strictly from intoxicants leading to great clarity and receptivity of mind – certainly even in such a foreign environment he practised strictly as a Brahmin, so he retained that quality of mind seeking perfection.

A Rare Opportunity: On ‘Buddhism and Pali’

There's a new book that I'd like to introduce:

Cover for 'Buddhism and Pali' (from mudpiebooks.com)

A little over 10 years ago I had the good fortune to study under Professor Richard Gombrich at the OCBS Pali Summer School of 2008.  I subsequently used the knowledge gained to read and translate from the Pali some passages in the Theravada Buddhist canon as part of my Master’s thesis.   So, I was pleased to see the publication of Prof. Gombrich’s latest book, Buddhism and Pali.

In this post I offer some thoughts about the material - they're more ad hoc responses to some ideas put forth than a book review because I’m not qualified to assess the finer points of linguistics.

Introduction

The title of this post is quoted from page 8 of Gombrich’s ‘Buddhism and Pali’, where the author indicates why, despite being somewhat sceptical about its appeal to members of the public, he decided to go ahead and write this small volume: he sees its potential to raise awareness about the far-reaching significance of Pali.  I think he went ahead because he is a believer!  That is, he truly believes in the importance of the Buddha as a historical figure, in the value of his teachings, particularly for the depth of the philosophy, and in the necessity of knowing Pali as the means to properly access that knowledge and interpret it accurately.

I remember maybe 20 years ago hearing about the Jesus Seminar and its efforts to determine the historicity of Jesus and what could be reliably attributed to him.  It seems that in recent years this kind of approach has been attempted in respect of the Buddha Gotama, leading to similar results, where some academics deny that the canonical texts can be attributed to the Buddha himself and hence cast all kinds of doubt on the material.  As someone who is interested in Buddhist texts primarily as a practitioner, I’ve always felt that these kinds of scholarly views are rooted in a kind of hindrance, specifically sceptical doubt (Pali: vicikicchā - for the definition, I'm linking through to an online edition of the Pali Text Society's Pali-English dictionary).

So I naturally welcomed this new book, which constructs an argument, mainly linguistic, but backed up by cultural, historical and other observations, that shows how Pali could in fact be the language the Buddha actually used in his teachings across a vast swathe of what we now refer to as India.  As a scholar specialising in Indo-Aryan languages over his long career, Gombrich is sensitive to various issues that need to be addressed, especially concerning matters such as the integrity of texts and their preservation.

The book itself comprises four chapters and I’ll briefly introduce them and pick up on points I found interesting.

1. Pali in History

In the first chapter, Gombrich sets the scene, indicating the current use of Pali in the canon of the Theravada School of Buddhism, how it was essentially a language of recitation used by monks and nuns to maintain the teachings.  He then traces its linguistic history back to a few centuries BCE, showing in particular how it relates to Sanskrit.  The book is concise and succinct, making it easy to digest and follow the lines of thought.  Thus, we have a nice overview of the history of the Buddha, the geography of India and the modes of usage of Pali, especially among monastics.  Then the ancestry of Pali is outlined in three steps, altogether covering a single page.  So it’s a kind of primer, with some footnotes provided for further exploration.

Being condensed, many points are made only briefly. One of the first to catch my eye was that the word phāsa (p.11), which means ‘language’, was originally attached to ‘Pāli’ .  The same word has been brought into Thai (phāsa is rendered as ภาษา, hence ภาษาไทย). In fact, Thai has incorporated many such ‘loan words’ from Pali and Sanskrit, but also from many other languages (its influences are complex)!

The transmission of the Buddha’s teachings was initially an oral tradition, only later written down, typically on palm leaves.  We may take writing for granted now, but (I didn't see this mentioned by Gombrich) one doesn’t have to go back very far to find practitioners who did not make use of written texts.  For example, the founder of Wat Phra Dhammakaya on the outskirts of Bangkok was an illiterate nun, Khun Yay Upasika Chandra Khonnokyoong.

It's remarkable that the texts have been handed down over the centuries with hardly any corruption.  Gombrich uses his philological expertise to cleverly argue how Pali has been preserved and evolved for a variety of pragmatic and conventional reasons, usually under the influence of Sanskrit, but used in a distinct way; its distinction arising because it is an artifice - a vehicle for transmission that needs careful memorisation, but also reflects adaptation to local environments.  He makes the argument easier to follow by comparison with the use of the English language, which he furnishes with examples.

In passing, he also makes the point that the teachings tell us that all this is subject to impermanence and will eventually perish.  From a professional perspective, as another aside, I wonder about the digital context, where we can easily replicate data in the Cloud and ensure integrity using checksums.   Well, checksums are themselves subject to bit rot (corruption) and according to Buddhist cosmology our world and many realms above eventually get destroyed, so that would include all the data centres in the Cloud and in clouds!

I find conservative Gombrich’s statement that “as far as we know” Theravada Buddhism was confined in its first millennium to India and Sri Lanka (p. 22): I am persuaded by the thesis proposed by Lewis Lancaster in the Maritime Buddhism Project that traders carried religious practices across South and South-East Asia much earlier (e.g., across the Bay of Bengal, the Andaman Sea, through the Malacca Strait, and up to the South China Sea).  Collaborative research is ongoing to form an electronic atlas.  Whilst the picture is patchy, there is significant archaeological evidence - for example, in Thailand, as reported by Suchandra and Lipi Ghosh,  excavations have unearthed objects with Buddhist inscriptions (in Pali or Hybrid Pali and Sanskrit) dated to the Dvāravatī period that have strong associations with the sea: such as amulets, carried by seafaring merchants to ensure a safe voyage and even images of Buddha Dipankara calming the waves.  I also asked my uncle, Sean Trafford, who spent his working life at sea, much of it in and around SE Asia, and he found the thesis credible.

Perhaps the first intimation I received of such early connections for Thailand was a visit to Phra Pathom Chedi in 1988, which I subsequently wrote about as one of my first articles on the Web.   A traditional overview of how Buddhism came to Thailand was compiled by Ven. Dr. Saddhatissa  There is, of course, a large gap between the time of Emperor Ashoka and the mid first millennium C.E., but it’s narrowing - see e.g. Stephen A. Murphy and Miriam T. Stark’s introduction to period transitions. (Coincidentally, one of my cousins has just started her first year as an undergraduate in the Faculty of Archaeology at Silapakorn University, so I may get to hear about further developments!)

2. The Linguistic Character of Pali

The second chapter - on ‘The Linguistic Character of Pali’ - is the most technical.  It contains material that is second nature to the author, so it’s both easy for him to spell out and difficult for him to gauge how accessible it might be for the reader.  For anyone who has made an initial attempt to learn the language it’s a useful refresher of the main concepts, but others may well observe the guidance, thoughtfully inserted, to just read some of the more general remarks.

These include the use of verse, which I tend not to give much attention to, even though I frequently come across them in sutta study; although the texts are largely prose, verses do feature.  My appreciation and understanding of verse is limited, but some while ago I became keen to learn the meaning of a daily chant called 'A Buddha Prayer Song', so eventually I produced a translation, aided by Thai friends.  It was an example of prosody, so I was pleased to learn more about the metrical structure of such verse. 

3. Pali Prose Style

In the third chapter - on ‘Pali Prose Style’ - Gombrich discusses how its style was especially shaped by the oral tradition.  He also explores the question of how the oral transmission has been so efficient, with some corroboration from neuroscience and illustrations from other disciplines such as music.  There are practical strategies indicated for memorisation such as the division of labour and Gombrich indicates how the Buddhist Councils have helped ensure their preservation.

He goes on to use a linguistic argument based on an incremental style of prose, where words are successively augmented - in length and meaning.  When considered from the view of the practice, we find that the experience is often of gradual development, gradual evolution and progression, so to record this it is fitting to choose words that reflect this in structure and meaning.  This insight helps in the validation of texts, i.e. there is scope for validation through practice. This is particularly the case when undertaking a practice with a sequence of steps, as exemplified by the Ratha-vinita Sutta  (Relay Chariots, translation by Thanissaro Bhikkhu).

Gombrich takes as an example (pp. 57-61) the homage (vandanā) in the iti pi so formula, which is a standard recitation in Pali chanting.  I think it’s an ambitious choice because it’s very condensed with meaning at mundane and supramundane levels, but I think through meticulous analysis he arrives at a sensible interpretation, showing the value of a proper understanding of Pali - it makes rational sense.

However, the scholarly method follows a particular intellectual discipline, so the result is often carefully couched and sometimes speculative; perhaps its deeper meaning cannot be convincingly made by linguistics alone.  In particular, whilst Gombrich also makes the important point that the text carries with it an injunction, of ‘ought’, scholarship doesn’t necessarily bring about this ‘ought’ response, i.e. "Right, let’s undertake the practice!"  To me it seldom is that compelling.  Even from the perspective of practice, it still is a matter of interpretation dependent on view (diṭṭhi) and according to the path (magga) taken.  However, to some extent the words can help to validate practice, so it works both ways.  

Indeed, the linguistic reading can lead on to practice and I’ll try to illustrate this by focusing on the ‘ought’, drawing on the Dhammakaya tradition to which I belong.  I’ll start by making the assertion that the presentation style of a practitioner can be more persuasive about the ‘ought’.  I think especially of the late Chao Khun Phramongkolthepmuni, the re-discoverer of this practice.  When he was delivering sermons as Abbot of Wat Paknam Bhasicharoen in Thailand he spoke with a directness and assuredness that arose from meditation experience.  His audience was roused in large numbers over the years and it came about as the audience engaged a different mode of listening and interpreting, through the citta, a Pali word that I would render along the lines of “heart-mind”, to distinguish it from the brain alone. 

The Chao Khun explained every word in the iti pi so, and gave the formula a sense of direction reflecting investigation within what the Buddha referred to as “this fathom-long body” (Rohitassa Sutta).  I summarise the respective interpretations in a table as follows:

Term	Gombrich	Dhammakaya tradition	Comment (Dhammakaya)
svākkhato	well-taught	well-taught
Bhagavatā	Blessed One	Blessed One	Because the Buddha is breaker of the wheel of Samsara
Dhammo	Teaching	Dhamma	Teaching (mundane) and Truth as supramundane reality
sanditthiko	practical	to be seen	Directly observable
akāliko	immediate	timeless and ever-present	Whether there are Buddhas in the world or not, the Path to Enlightenment lies open, all the same
ehipassiko	Come and see	Come and see
opanāyiko	useful	leading inwards	the operative mode is given by phrases such as kāye kāyānupassī, ‘contemplating body in body’ in accordance with the Middle Way.
paccattam	individually, by oneself	individually, by oneself
veditabbo	o be understood	to be realized	directly, not just intellectually
viññuhi	by the intelligent	by the wise

This practice-based approach was even reflected in the design of published materials.  For example, several of the terms, including opanāyiko, were employed on the front cover of a magazine of the Bhikkhus of Wat Paknam, surrounding the image of the Buddha in meditation.

Another area where the orientation of practice can prompt or fashion a different response concerns repetition (pp. 62-68). Certainly some formulaic repetition acts as little more than packaging, but the repetition in the ‘contents’ does need care.  As mentioned, repetition aids and reinforces memory, but it also establishes a rhythm, which can be cyclical in nature, like a spiral staircase, where the completion of each full 360 degree rotation brings a different aspect viewed from a series of successively higher windows (perhaps these are the “small changes” that Ven. Dr Walpola Rahula alluded to?).  Lists are usually intentionally ordered.  Hence the khandhas (pp. 64-5) are to be contemplated, each in turn (it’s not an intellectual exercise, it’s a sermon on practice, not about the practice).

But some cases of repetition do appear to be far less necessary: repetition that arises through reporting - the convention of repeating verbatim each time a new person is to hear what has been said.  Such preservation can make for excessive, even quite absurd, repetition as illustrated (p. 66) and I confess that in study groups we often skip reading out such repeated reports.

Gombrich makes the key point that repetition occurs at every level, which suggests that the Buddha used repetition in his speeches, thereby strengthening the case that the Pali does indeed record the Buddha’s own words.

4. Pali in Buddhist Ideology

Having laid the foundations, the final chapter presents the main thesis: that the Buddha gave his teachings in Pali as part of his ideology; the use of Pali emerged in opposition to Sanskrit as integral to the Buddha’s teachings being in contradistinction to the Vedas.  I hadn’t thought that the Buddha might so deliberately using language (or avoid the use of a particularly structured language) to take an ideological stance, but I can imagine it fits like this. 

Then Gombrich builds his case, showing how the Buddha gave his teachings to anyone who was prepared to receive them, instructing his disciples to make language accessible and adaptable to locality.  A particularly difficult area is establishing what language was used between the time of the Buddha and when it was first formally written down in Sri Lanka.  So Gombrich proceeds to develop a linguistic argument, inviting the reader to imagine the conditions in which the Buddha roamed far and wide and how Pali appears to have accommodated a wide range of dialects to match whilst being based on a predominant dialect, a ‘lingua franca’, becoming the ‘argot’ of the Buddha and his followers (rather than quoting Google, I suggest the entry in an online etymology dictionary).

Such language was used in a pragmatic fashion to convey meaning, so it can be argued that implies purging language of foreign terms.  I’m cautious about that; some terms need to be introduced with all nuances of the original meaning properly established or else much can be lost.  I think, for example, of the term “mindfulness”, which is typically used for sati, but in the process the sense of clear comprehension with an ethical basis has often been removed (think about the sequence of the Eightfold Noble Path).

Conclusion

In the epilogue, Gombrich leaves us with an open problem: how best to teach a basic course in Pali that will enable students to tackle the translation of texts with the aid of a dictionary and other tools.   From past experience, Gombrich has found that the course needs to be intensive over a short period, usually 2-3 weeks, but that has presented various challenges in terms of organisation and commitment irrespective of whether that is offered in person at a physical location or online. 

Efforts are currently being made to provide a more sustainable option through online courses with recorded sessions, which should improve retention, though it will mean reduced personal interaction.  Having been involved in developing and support e-learning platforms, and even a little research, I expect A.I. to offer considerable potential, especially assistance in understanding particular concepts being taught in drill practice.  Financial support would make things easier, remove some barriers, but overall I think that it still largely depends on the student's determination as to whether there will be a successful outcome.

---

Overall, this little volume has been stimulating and enjoyable and I'm pleased to recommend it.  It has reminded me how fortunate I was to learn the rudiments of Pali from an expert so that I could be in a position to explore the Buddha's teachings with more assurance; today, I mainly use that knowledge outside the academic context, in a local Buddhist group (where we follow chanting and meditation with sutta study, using a plethora of books and some electronic tools).

Postscript [12 January 2019]

After posting the article, I recalled having written about how the Buddha transmitted Dhamma based on knowing the receptivity of his audience and their kamma.  To explain how this worked, I tried to use analogies with concepts in physics (mainly holography, first introducing the basic idea and then elaborating with a further analogy of a radio set.