In the deep tapestry of ancient Indian thought, few concepts carry as much weight—or cause as much debate—as the idea of Sanātana: that which is eternal, unbeginning (anādi), and uncaused. To contemplate existence without a singular temporal origin is one of the most profound metaphysical achievements of classical Indian philosophy. It frees the mind from the rigid, linear “creation out of nothing” models of western monotheism, replacing them with a vision of time as an infinite, cyclical dance of cause and effect.

Yet, a fatal confusion has long haunted this intellectual heritage. In the hands of orthodox scholasticism, the noble metaphysical truth of anādi—an unbeginning universe—was weaponized to sanctify something entirely temporal: a rigid, human-made social hierarchy. By conflating cosmic reality with social power, Brahminical commentators attempted to transform a historical human invention into an unshakeable, eternal law.

Understanding how this happened—and why the heterodox traditions, most notably Buddhism, rejected it—is not merely an exercise in academic history. It is a vital lesson in how dogmatic scholasticism operates when it prioritizes protecting authority over seeking truth.

The Anatomy of a Redundant Claim

To understand the roots of this intellectual conflict, one must first look at how we talk about origins. It is common in popular comparative religion to hear that Buddhism rejects a “beginning of time created by any divine entity.”

Buddhism does not merely reject a god-created beginning; it rejects the very possibility of a first moment in time altogether. Under the doctrine of Dependent Origination (Pratītyasamutpāda), every phenomenon arises in dependence upon prior causes and conditions. Because every cause must have a cause before it, the concept of an absolute “first cause” or “initial starting line” is logically impossible. Samsāra—the cycle of conditioned existence—is explicitly described as anamatagga: without discoverable beginning.

Time, in Buddhist thought, is infinite. Existence has no first chapter.

The Hijacking of Sanātana

It is precisely at this juncture that orthodox Brahminical thought diverted from rational metaphysics into social dogma.

Faced with the profound concept of an unbeginning universe, schools like Mimāṃsā and later Vedāntic commentators (including Śaṅkara and Rāmānuja) sought to weave the Vedic social order—specifically the four-fold Varna (caste) system—into the very fabric of the cosmos itself. Drawing on textual interpolations like the Purusha Sukta of the Rigveda and the legal mandates of the Manusmriti, they claimed that the creation of humanity into distinct hierarchical categories by Brahma was not a historical event, but an eternal, recurring cosmic necessity.

To resolve the obvious contradiction—how can a specific creation event by Brahma be “eternal”?—the scholastics constructed an elaborate defense: Brahma does not create out of nothing; he merely “re-manifests” the world at the start of every cosmic cycle (Kalpa) based on prior seed-impressions (Samskaras). Therefore, they argued, the Varna structure is Nitya (eternal) and Sanātana (unbeginning).

But this argument collapses under the weight of its own ideological burden. Framing a social hierarchy as “eternal” does not make it divine; it merely shields human-made power structures from critique, reform, or abolition.

The Fallacy of Predetermined Defense

Why did brilliant commentators go to such extraordinary lengths to justify social inequality as an eternal cosmic law?

Because their core objective was predetermined: preserving the supreme, unquestionable authority of the Veda (Vedāprāmāṇya).

When a philosophical system begins with the absolute premise that its foundational texts are infallible (apauruṣeyatva), its reasoning inevitably becomes circular—a classic exercise in begging the question. Instead of allowing empirical observation, historical evidence, or moral reason to dictate truth, the scholastics worked backward from a pre-ordained conclusion: The text is supreme; therefore, the social hierarchy it mandates must be an eternal cosmic law.

This was not neutral, open-ended philosophical inquiry. It was dogmatic scholasticism designed to protect institutional privilege under the banner of divine ordinance.

The Śramaṇic Rejection: Rationality over Dogma

It was against this intellectual self-deception that the Śramaṇa movements—most prominently early Buddhism, Jainism, and the materialist Cārvāka school—mounted their revolt.

In discourses like the Aggañña Sutta, the Buddha directly dismantled the Brahminical myth of divine social origin. Replacing the supernatural narrative with an empirical, evolutionary account, the Buddha demonstrated that social divisions arose historically through practical human needs: division of labor, governance, agreement, and economic activity. Human worth, Buddhism asserted, is defined entirely by individual moral character (kamma) and intentional action, never by birth or hypothetical cosmological assignment.

Where the Brahminical establishment offered a closed loop of scriptural authority, the heterodox thinkers insisted on empirical testability, logical consistency, and ethical outcome. They saw through the rhetorical maneuver: claiming a social order is “Sanātana” does not make it eternal; it merely exposes a desperate attempt to make a temporal institution unchallengeable.

Reclaiming the Unbeginning Mind

The lesson of this ancient debate resonates deeply today.

True Sanātana—the contemplation of unbeginning, interconnected existence—demands intellectual humility and endless curiosity. It acknowledges that reality is a vast, dynamic web of cause and effect without a dogmatic starting point.

When we mistake the temporary, human-made arrangements of society for “eternal natural laws,” we commit the same intellectual error as the orthodox scholastics of old. Real wisdom requires us to strip away the predetermined dogmas, confront power structures for what they are—historical, contingent, and human—and uphold rational, ethical inquiry as our highest guide. NI