Chapter 6 Apr 9th
Chapter 6 Apr 9th
Introduction
The sections of the chapter given below are part of the interpretation and construction
of the first pillar of a Tagorean ecosophy – love. An ecosophy, coined by Arne Næss is a
personal philosophy that is aligned to living in harmony with Nature. Love for Tagore is a
theme that recurs across genres and a principle he demonstrated throughout his life. His first
English biographer E.J. Thompson reflected, “In [Tagore’s] earlier phase as a poet, he
believed in two dogmas: the love and joy of the Universe. He believed in these to the end”
(Thompson, 1921:81), Christine Kupfer notes: “Tagore’s highest ideal of being is a state of
joy and love” (2016:xiv) and Micheal Collins (2012:42) states the centrality of love to
Tagore’s thought because of its lived, active and not-other-worldly nature. These
observations indicate that love pervades Tagore’s metaphysics, his aspirations, and his
actions.
Tagore’s conception of love was shaped by a blend of philosophical, spiritual, and
literary traditions, including the Upaniṣads, Bhakti poetry, the Bāuls of Bengal, Gautama
Buddha, Sufism, Romanticism, the distinctive morality from his father Debendranath’s
sermons, Shelley’s poetry and Tolstoy’s philosophy, to name just a few to whom he
expressed his indebtedness (Hatcher, 2007:122). This confluence of diverse influences
engendered a distinct ideology—wielding considerable influence, as much as his Upaniṣadic
beliefs—on Tagore’s spiritual and poetic life. Mandakranta Bose terms Tagore’s philosophy
as a “spirituality of love” (2017:31).
Bose’s term suggests, Tagore’s conception of love was far from conventional. In
‘Tagore and Transformations in the Ideals of Love,’ Sudipta Kaviraj (2015) explores the
historical transformation of the discourses of love and its evolution in reaction to
contemporary events. He cites Tagore as a “major performer and his work constituted a
principal site of the transition from one aesthetic structure to another. […namely] from
shringara, conventionally translated as erotic love, to prema.” (p.162). According to Kaviraj,
Tagore “enveloped by a deep and serene aestheticism” and thus integrated ideas of love,
desire, and eroticism to connect human, nature and divine love in a novel way. And
1
secondly, Tagore’s departure from traditional conventions that celebrated “shringaric”1 love
to a more Victorian stance than previous expositions and less descriptive in the physical
aesthetic than writers like Bankim—towards a “thoroughly new and different” aesthetic
realm through “great lyrical refinement, with carefully chosen words, a slow and beautiful
cadence, restrained and wistful music” (p.181).
Tagore’s conception of love, despite, and perhaps because of, its deep aestheticism
and syncretic nature is insightful and multifaceted because it has within it what Ankur Barua
defines through the Sanskrit-Bengali word sāmañjasya2—a vision of harmony. Barua
categorises this as harmony between “the human and the divine, the householder and hermit,
the finite and the infinite, the individual and the social, India and the world” (2018:xv) in
similar but perhaps less contemporary terms than E.J. Thompson, who in the introduction to
Tagore’s Nationalism listed them as: “spiritual and materialist, East and West, Nation and no-
nation, masculine and feminine, abstract and personal”: for Tagore these pairs should “not
compete but should harmonise” (Thompson in Tagore, 15). Furthermore, sāmañjasya has a
connotation of spontaneity and lack of deliberate process (Moniet Williams, 1867) which as
we shall see is specifically germane in understanding Tagore’s intimacy with nature, a
leitmotif that runs through much of his work (Gupta, 2016:15).
This chapter details the ground and structure of sāmañjasya of Tagore’s love
which highlights the difference between this love and
The basis of Tagores love is such that it addresses two of the major issues which
can be used to build up a significant aspect of the understanding of Mathews
ontopoetics and furthermore has the potentioal to shift us from an ecological to a
motivational turn.
proposes that such a sāmañjasya love, as conceived by Tagore, is the foundation of a
distinctly Tagorean ecosophy. Moreover, taken to its fullest expression this can elicit a
relationality between humans and nature that inherently inspires a ‘motivational turn’.
Through a close reading of Tagore’s texts, we analyse the conception of love that underpins
his perspective and bring together explicitly the key features that give his thought an
ecosophical dimension. In places, we discuss the way these themes take a different path from
1
This śṛṅgāric love is the “erotic sentiment,” and represents one of the nine kinds of Rasa or sentiments evoked
in dramatic plays.
2
Sāmañjasya refers to harmony, coordination, concord, agreement, or compatibility. It is used to denote a state
of being in which elements are well-coordinated or in balance with each other, leading to a harmonious or
seamless operation or existence. Furthermore, this carries the connotation of spontaneity and the dictionary
glosses áñjasā ] ind. straight on , right , truly , justly
2
Tagore’s contemporaries and current environmental thinkers, and we develop what is most
salient in them.
The first part ‘Tagore’s Conception of Love’ defines love and highlights three key
concepts—freedom, renunciation, and dharma— integral to this formation of love as the
foundation of the cosmos and the harmoniser of dualities. The second part ‘Tagore’s ‘Love’
in dialogue with contemporary environmental philosophy’ explores two main areas: (1) The
concept of identification and its significance in motivating us to move from awareness to
action through an ontopoetic lens, and (2) Tagore’s stance on human exceptionalism.
Although, at first glance, this stance appears to conflict with deep ecologists’ criticisms of the
Anthropocene, Tagore’s human exceptionalism adopts a more favourable perspective when
love is considered as a metaphysical base.
As noted in the methodology, Tagore’s canon is notoriously large and so for reasons
stated below, this analysis is restricted to a close reading of ‘Prem’ and ‘Realisation in Love,’
while referring to other essays, poems and short stories where appropriate. To keep within
10,000 words for this confirmation submission, sections 6.1.3 and 6.2.3 are removed, and
footnotes and passages marked with [] are shortened. Additional case-studies have been
moved to an Appendix.
“Prem” constitutes one of eleven discourses featured in the first volume of the
Santiniketan series (henceforth SN). This series encompasses a collection of 152 sermons
segmented into seventeen parts across two volumes that were delivered from 1908 to 1914,
having transitioned from sringara to prema. The SN volumes are considered ‘seed texts’
delivered in Bengali on home turf that Tagore drew from in his later philosophical lectures
(Bhattacharjee, 2022). Requests from Kshitimohan Sen, other teachers and students at the
Santiniketan gurukula (school) prompted Tagore to deliver these talks which were directly
inspired by his dawn-upāsanā, (meditation, worship and spiritual reflection). Although he
initially hesitated to share the insights from his sādhanā (spiritual practice), considering these
moments sacred, Sen eventually persuaded him to impart some of these reflections as a form
of prasād (blessed offering). Tagore’s own musings on these lectures, conveyed in a letter to
3
Rani Mahalanobis (30 January 1935), reveal his sense of astonishment at the profundity of
the words he found himself articulating. He felt as if the words were both his and not his,
likening himself to a “well-made talking machine” (trans. Bhattacharyya). These talks,
reflecting Tagore’s deep spiritual engagement, significantly influenced later widely-read
works like Sadhana: Realisation of Life (henceforth Sadhana) and Thought Relics
(Bhattacharyya, 2019:6).
Human Values (1996) (henceforth HV) by Chakraborty & Bhattacharya and
Santiniketan Essays by Medha Bhattacharya (2019) are useful translations of a large
percentage of these essays; the first offering a general introduction accolading the forgotten,
practical wisdom found in these reflective-talk-essays and the second contains a critical
introduction on many of the essays. Here, Bhattacharya provides a generic and broad
sweeping exposition of Tagore’s conception of love in the section: ‘The aspect of love in
Śāntiniketan and some other Tagorean texts’ that proves a useful pointer to source material. I
refer to HV, which provides a useful initial translation, though I found the authors had added
to Tagore’s original writing and so use my own translation of ‘Prem’ of the original in this
analysis (see Appendix 1).
‘Realisation in Love’3 (henceforth RiL) is the fifth chapter in Sadhana, accepted now
as one of Tagore’s quintessential philosophical expositions in English (along with Religion of
Man (1931)4). Sadhana is a collection of lectures, delivered in the UK and the USA and
published in 1913. These talks allowed Tagore to share his distinctive viewpoint, blending
Indian spiritual and philosophical traditions with Western concepts like the “problem of evil”,
“sin”, and “Father”. This made it a pivotal work, offering Western audiences an opportunity
to come “into touch with the ancient spirit of India as revealed in our sacred texts and
manifested in the life of today” using language they could easily understand (Sadhana:i).
This focus on appealing to a global cross-cultural audience also characterises others in
this period, perhaps the most famous being Swami Vivekanand after his address at the
Parliament of the World’s Religions in Chicago in September 11, 1893. However, in Tagore,
we see a distinctive emphasis on the idea of lived wisdom and the importance of making texts
new and of lived importance through embodied practice not as a sanyasi (ascetic/renouncer)
in an established order. Further, he differs from other Brahmo Samaj leaders, such as Keshab
3
Tagore’s first delivery of RiL in Britain was in the library of Manchester (now Harris) College, Oxford, on
24th May 1913 (10 Jaiṣṭha 1320 BE) on an invitation from its then principal J. Estin Carpenter.
4
Religion of Man (1931), presented as the Hibbert Lectures at Oxford in 1930, is noted in Simon Blackburn’s
“Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy” (2nd ed., 2008, p. 358) short entry on Tagore “Indian philosopher and poet”
whose “best-known book in the West is The Religion of Man”
4
Chandra Sen who also went overseas, travelling to England in 1870, where he delivered
lectures promoting the ideals of a universal and reformist approach to religion, which sought
to harmonise different religious traditions. In contrast, Tagore, whose link with the Brahmo
Samaj was inherited and his involvement as secretary and hymn-composer, shaped his early
years, eventually found that institutions “represented an artificial average, with its
standard of truth at its static minimum, jealous of any vital growth that exceeded its
limits” (The English Writings, Vol. 3:129). Both the preaching and seva (selfless service)
mission inspired by the travelling sanyasi and the structured evangelism by the Brahmo
Samaj (or any sampradāya (a tradition or a religious system following a particular lineage or
guru śiṣya paramparā) were limiting. Tagore drew from many sources that supplemented this
abstract knowledge with an embodied knowing or realisation of the divine through an
intimacy with Nature (Tagore, 1949:88; 1961:18).
As we shall see, for Tagore, Nature has two aspects: the physical, characterised by
outward restlessness and change, and the poetic, resonating with inner silence, peace, and
limitless beauty (RiL:57). Though seemingly contradictory, these facets express one unifying
principle—love. It is this Tagorean definition of love that I layout in the next section.
5
Tagore defines love as both ćarama satya “ultimate Truth,” and parama rasa
“supreme essence” (Prem:2). He makes this claim with a foundational premise:
In the Vedic hymns, death is His shadow, immortality is also His shadow—He has unified
both within Himself. He who has ended all duality within Himself is the ultimate Truth. He is
the purest light; He is the clearest darkness. (Prem:1)
Here, both death and immortality, seemingly paradoxical are both “shadows” of the
Infinite and unified within It. This suggests a being or state that exists beyond the limitations
of binaries or dvandvas6—pairs of opposites such as death and immortality, good and evil,
existence and non-existence, or light and darkness. Dvandvas are secondary, derivative
features or “shadows”, not the essence of the Infinite. “He who has ended all duality within
Himself”, a statement reflected in Ishopanisad (7) and Bhagavad Gītā (2:55; 6:29) is “the
ultimate Truth”. By describing this ultimate Truth as both “bishuddhotom jyoti” (purest light)
and “nirmalotom andhokār” (clearest darkness), Tagore uses imagery that evokes the idea of
a reality that is all-encompassing and beyond the grasp of human cognition, which tends to
categorise and separate.
In Indic conceptions, jyoti often symbolises knowledge, consciousness, and the
divine. It is not just physical light but the metaphysical light of pure consciousness that
illuminates all experiences without being affected or diminished. Andhakār, ‘darkness,’
conversely, symbolises ignorance, unawareness, inertia, the absence of knowledge, and
potentiality. It represents the unknown, the unmanifested, or the hidden aspects of reality.
However, darkness is not merely the absence of light or a negative principle; it also signifies
the fertile ground from which knowledge and enlightenment can emerge. The coexistence of
light and dark in Tagore’s assertion underlines the notion that ultimate Truth or reality
transcends the simple dichotomy of knowledge and ignorance, being and non-being.
Although Tagore is trying to articulate “ultimate Truth” as transcending boundaries,
he can only do so in as far as language permits, which in itself creates a boundary 7. For
Tagore, for Truth to be “ultimate” it has to contain everything: “if the synthesis of all
opposites does not occur within a single truth, then it cannot be considered the ultimate
Truth.” Here, Tagore explicitly rejects any dualistic conception of divinity, giving the
example of God versus Satan for epitomising immortality and death (Prem:1), in favour of a
monistic understanding where Brahman is recognised as the singular, ultimate Truth,
harmonising all conflicts and separateness. He adds, “But we do not accept any partner to
6
A concept also found in the Bhagavad Gītā 2:16, 5:19, 13:31 etc []
7
See Wittgenstein and Tagore: language []
6
Brahman—we know He8 is the Truth, all conflicts of partial truths have found harmony in
Him; we know He is one; all separateness of existence is unified in Him” (Prem:1) Tagore
may be taking the meaning of “Brahman as… Truth” as a fact because it is the meaning or
definition embedded within the word not as Truth as experienced by everyone. He observes:
“That’s why the Upanishads have not only called Him Truth, but they have also described
Him as the embodiment of Essence—knowing Him in His complete essence gives meaning
to knowledge.” Intellectual knowing is “a matter of principle” only through logic. Knowledge
as a paṇḍita (scholar) or brāhmaṇa (a member of the priestly caste) may know the principle
of Brahman through studying and teaching texts. However, such intellectualisation alone
does not suffice in knowing Him “in his complete essence”—a way of knowing that gives
“meaning to knowledge”. The “ultimate Truth” here is not just a philosophical concept that
distinguishes truth from fact, but a direct, experiential reality that transcends (without
negating) intellectual understanding.
For Tagore, to directly know or experience Truth needs a connection through the heart
as well: “Knowing Him as Truth is only through knowledge—where is our heart’s connection
to it?” (Prem:1). He questions the sufficiency of a merely intellectual understanding,
proposing that knowing the Infinite goes beyond the limitations of the intellect alone. He
pointedly asks, “Does this Truth have no essence?” (Prem:1), employing a rhetorical question
to emphasise that there’s more to understanding than intellect alone can grasp or reveal. []
Tagore goes on to invoke the Upaniṣads to affirm that the Infinite embodies both
Truth and Essence9 unified within It. It is this unity that gives embodied meaning to
knowledge: “Just as all Truth has merged in Him, so has all Essence.” Here, there are three
entities: Truth, Essence and the Infinite. Continuing, he posits: “Therefore, it stands that He
who is the ultimate Truth is also the supreme Essence. That is, He is the embodiment of
love.” (Prem:2). In other words, the Infinite who is the ultimate Truth (where no dvandvas
can exist) and the supreme Essence, ie, the infinite is Love – embodied. It is this embodied
Love that is integral to resolving all differences and conflicts.
8
Referencing Brahman by using “He,” Tagore dismisses Śaṅkara’s theoretical negation of Iśvara from Absolute
Reality. Tagore here is not suggesting the denial, devaluation or disregard for the world that classical Advaita
tends towards (Nelson:80). For Tagore, it is through this personal connection that individuals can gradually
realise their unity with the Absolute, in a manner that is both emotionally profound and accessible to all (Barua.
103). This conception allows Tagore to realise “the Absolute in the presence of Iśvara” through an intimate,
interior communication with his ‘Jeevan Devata’— a vision integrating divine and human: a theme explored
extensively in Chapter 8.
9
Tagore in this same essay, later refers to a line in Taittirīya Upaniṣad from the ‘Anandavalli’, interestingly,
also known as ‘Brahmanandavalli’ – perhaps seeing Ananda and Brahman as synonymous. This chapter is
devoted to exploring the nature of Ananda (bliss) as the essence of Brahman. It posits that bliss is not just an
attribute of the ultimate reality but its very essence. “Raso vai sah” (He is verily the essence) suggests that the
ultimate reality is bliss itself, and knowing this bliss is knowing the essence of all existence.
7
The need to merge dvandvas into a singular truth to regard it as the ultimate truth
stems from the definition of “ultimate”10—the highest, final, or most fundamental level of
something. But why must the ultimate truth and supreme essence equal the embodiment of
love? Tagore describes the Infinite further:
“He is love, who, needing nothing, sacrifices everything for us, He is the embodiment of love.
He continuously emanates His power throughout the universe for us--all creation is His
offering. From bliss indeed, all beings are born--everything is being created from bliss,
nothing is happening out of obligation--that self-manifested, self-emitted love is the source of
all creation.” (Prem:3).
Here, the Infinite, explicitly called Love, is characterised by absolute freedom from need,
representing the pinnacle of selflessness, generosity, and creativity. The phrase “needing
nothing” highlights the complete and self-sufficient nature, paradoxically giving rise to an
infinite capacity for generosity, as seen in the act of “sacrificing everything for us”. This act
of sacrifice, emerging naturally from the essence of Love, is unconditional and
comprehensive, is not borne out of obligation but emerges from the very nature of love itself
—a love that is unconditional and all-encompassing, not the jealous, hierarchical or wrathful
God described in chapter 4 of this thesis.
From the statement tini premsworūp (He (the Infinite) is the embodiment of love), -
sworūp means “own form” or “true nature.” This has a slightly different connotation to
embodiment. The Infinite’s true nature is love may be more accurate as it positions love not
as an emotion, a personification or incarnation, but as the Infinite’s own nature. This
interpretation suggests that to truly understand and experience love is to engage with the
divine itself.
Moreover, Tagore portrays love as the underlying source that “continuously emanates
His power throughout the universe for us—all creation is His offering.” This expands love’s
scope to a more than cosmic level. The concept of continuous emanation depicts the universe
as an ever-evolving expression rather than a static existence. From this perspective, the
universe and everything within it are seen not as mere objects or happenstance but as
expressions of a profound, generous, loving purpose. []
Love not only upholds the universe and imbues the universe its power, but also
somosto sṛiṣṭi tār krito uṣsorgo (“all of creation is His offering”) implies that the act of
creation is a deliberate offering—note the use of utshorg (offering) over tyāg (sacrifice)—
10
For a cognitive explanation of the “Hindu obsession” with ultimate truth” see Sudith Khkar []
8
suggests that existence itself is a hallowed act, a reflection of the boundless generosity and
benevolence emanating from the divine essence that is love.
The pada (line of a verse): ānandāddhyeva khalvimāni bhūtāni jayante translates to
“From bliss indeed, these beings are born” comes from the Taittiriya Upaniṣad (3:6:1),11
specifically from the ‘Anandavalli’12 (bliss section). This passage is part of an exposition on
the nature of ānanda (bliss) as the fundamental cause of creation, positing that the entire
universe and all beings springs not from a vacuum or nothingness but from ānanda—the
blissful aspect of Brahman. Ānanda is an essential aspect of satchitānanda (truth-
consciousness-bliss)— representing not merely attributes or qualities of Brahman but its very
essence, from which all existence emerges.13
This emergence is not due to lack or necessity: “Nothing at all is happening because
of any need,” but from ānanda. This further underscores the universe’s unfolding as a joyous
act of creation, driven by “self-manifested” and “self-emitted” love that is “the source of all
creation”. This challenges materialistic or utilitarian views of the universe’s formation,
proposing instead that the cosmos is a result of overflow, a spontaneous emanation of joy and
love, rather than a response to a deficiency or desire.
9
redefined the concept of sannyāsī, stressing that śivajñāne jīver sevā (“serving human beings
knowing that they are manifestations of God”) is integral to the spiritual journey (Maharaj,
2020:175), and Aurobindo, turned inwards, staying indoors for more than forty years.
Although Tagore was closer to Vivekananda’s conception of salvation not through traditional
renunciation or world denial, but through “practical Vedānta,”—Vivekananda’s endeavour
provides a philosophical foundation for the ethics of love and social service (Maharaj,
2020:176), however, Tagore’s conception centred on breaking free of selfishness and
releasing the coils of ego. Such daily hoardings must be renounced so that freedom, whose
ultimate goal is love, can be attained (Prem:3). When this love is experienced, the mind by
default realises, "Then I truly live." (Prem:2).
For Tagore, “The person who is […] busy only in conquering their own ego, does not
experience the dawn of love” and thus does not truly live. He by no means denounced
Gandhi, Vivekananda, or Aurobindo as people—on the contrary, he thought, spoke and wrote
of them with great regard. His critique was aimed at the notion that a singular focus on
conquering the ego (ahaṁkāra) or rather purifying the mind (manas) can be inadvertently
“self-centered”, thereby obscuring the “sun of love” in one’s heart. In short, the love that
pervades creation is veiled or overshadowed by direct attempts to purify the veils that cover
it. Rather, it is by fully living out our creativity that we free ourselves from the limitations of
the ego—a concept we cover in detail in Chapter 8.
Furthermore, Tagore observes that the traditional concept of renunciation doesn’t
prompt individuals to ask, “Why should I let go?” (HV). This lack of questioning is due to a
prevalent disconnect from the belief, as stated in various scriptures, that letting go of worldly
attachments is a path to mukti (freedom). The strong attachments to people, places, and
worldly objects overshadow the true import of such liberation which Tagore identifies not as
the renunciation of possessions but as “the ultimate fulfilment of desire.” This desire resides
in love, where questions of “why?” or “what will occur then?” are irrelevant—love serves as
its own rationale and objective. In that experience of love, which is the ultimate fulfilment of
all desire, concerns about purpose or outcome “cannot exist” (Prem:2). Thus, a Tagorean
conception is not to forsake the world but to fully embrace love’s quest.
For Tagore, the relationship between love and renunciation is so closely linked that
even deciding which comes first is difficult: “Without love, there is no renunciation, and
without renunciation, love cannot happen.” (Prem:2). Renunciation is depicted as the
pinnacle of generosity, paralleling the ‘offering’ mentioned previously—it transforms into a
vital conduit for the expression of love—the essential essence of Truth, is realised and
10
actualised in the world through the full extension of oneself to others. This offering is not a
giving “out of necessity or under the compulsion of oppression”; it is the complete and loving
giving that holds nothing back. Because, be it the oppressor or the renouncer, giving through
prayojan (direct necessity with a purpose in mind), tāgid (demand), atyācćār (oppression) or
dān (donation when given with an indirect purpose in mind) are still “busy only in
conquering their own ego”. Tagore posits, “… it is love that ultimately reveals itself through
the practice of renunciation.” (Prem:2). And in this love is the fulfilment of freedom.
But love is free, it is independent. There is no difference between love and slavery--only
slavery is bound, and love is free. Love establishes itself in its ultimate form by its own rules,
it does not explain itself to anyone above it. (Prem 3).
Here Tagore uses both both mukta (free) and svādhīna (independent) to characterise love.
While both terms are related to the concept of freedom, svādhīna focuses more on the aspect
of independence and self-determination, whereas mukta emphasises the broader concept of
liberation and the absence of bondage.15 Instead of being slaves bound out of prayojan, tāgiḍ,
atyāchār or dān, love is its opposite, free from these, it establishes itself through its own rules
(as we extracted in the two previous sections) “needing nothing” yet “sacrificing everything”
in an “offering” from a state of “fullness” rather than need or want. Furthermore, to explain
itself would indicate there was another entity above it. However, in this conception, love is
“self-manifested”, “self-emitted” and “the source of all creation” and so it inherently defies
the necessity for external validation or explanation.
Tagore posits that achieving existential “fullness” and the “complete fulfilment of
desires” necessitates a deep unification with love (Prem:4). However, such a union requires
complete independence, because “Without independence, there can be no exchange with the
independent” (Prem:4). This implies that to engage with the Infinite, the finite individuals
themselves must be free and independent of necessity, compulsion etc, highlighting the
active desire required to unite with love.
This active aspiration, or mumukṣutva (intense longing for freedom), aims for
independence from prayojan etc, highlighting love’s ability to “liberate” a person by: “[…]
15
Definitions from biswas-bangala dictionary.
11
break the bonds of selfishness, release the coils of ego, and [renounce the things] we have
hoarded just for accumulation” (Prem:3). Such an understanding of love is incompatible with
ego-driven attachment or selfishness, which tether us and foster dependency. Instead, love
serves as an elevating force guiding us towards a deeper understanding of both ourselves and
others.
In this conception, love, in its purest form, is accessible not by renouncing the world
in the traditional sense but by being in harmony with it: “The perfect freedom is in a perfect
harmony of relationship and not in a mere severance of bondage” (Thought Relics, p.105).
This brings us back to the idea of sāmañjasya love and a vision of harmony in and with the
world.
[As indicated in the Introduction, this section is removed due to word limit]
12
6.2. Tagore’s ‘Love’ a new direction in contemporary Environmental Philosophy
13
At one end of the spectrum, Tagore’s spiritual connection with nature, where the
Infinite or God, which as we saw earlier is love, is also the very fabric of the finite world:
“The infinite being has assumed unto himself the mystery of finitude. And in him who is love
the finite and the infinite are made one” (RiL,64). This exemplifies a profound identification
with the environment that transcends conventional religious narratives. Tagore writes:
To me, religion is too concrete a thing though I have no right to speak about it, but if ever I have
come to realise God, or if the vision of God has ever been granted to me, I must have received the
vision through this world, through men, through trees and birds and beasts, the dust and the soil. I
feel his touch in the sky, in the air, in water, everywhere I feel it. There are times when the whole
world speaks to me. (1949:88)
Tagore experiences God in Nature, which includes “men…trees and birds and beasts, the dust
and the soil” as well as in more subtle forms “sky…air…water…everywhere”. And it is the
aliveness of these entities, for Tagore, that opens up a non-lingual communication where “the
whole world speaks” to him. Many have put labels on Tagore’s worldview; as early as 1921,
the Hungarian Jesuit Father Béla Bangha called it a “pantheistic cult of nature”, the Catholic
theologian István Záborszky in 1927 interpreted his ideas as “pantheistic monism” (cited in
Bangha, 2007:92-93) and more recently Indian ecophilosopher, Aseem Shrivastava (2020)
posits Tagore with a “panentheistic” perspective, wherein the divine is immanent in all
aspects of the cosmos and is also more than the cosmos. Tagore himself might have been
sceptical of such neat labels. This sentiment is key to understanding the poet’s religion where
such categorisation is not undermined but neither is it the grounds for knowing something. In
the Religion of Man lectures (1958) he posits: “The details of reality must be studied in their
differences by Science, but it can never know the character of the grand unity of relationship
pervading it, which can only be realised immediately by the human spirit.” (italics mine,
RoM:102). For Tagore, it is the “primal imagination of man” by which he means the
imagination which is “fresh and immediate in its experience” that is the source of the poet’s
canto. He drolly remarks that reducing a belief in the “living Truth” to a term like
“panenthropy”16 is “an idolatry of name” that merely diverts attention from the profound
mystery it represents (RoM:103).
Kaiser Haq in his critique of Tagore’s Philosophy, notes that: “Tagore’s idealist
philosophy informs his “poet’s religion,” which is undogmatic, fluid, characterised by
negative capability, and extends into his view of science, not with very happy results.” (Haq,
2010:28). For Haq, it is because of Tagore’s mysterious and sometimes mystifying statements
16
A term he may have made up to make his point.
14
that led to some of his most searing criticism. 17 In 1913, the analytical philosopher Bertrand
Russell wrote to Ottoline Morell: “[…] back from Tagore’s lecture […]. It was unmitigated
rubbish – cut-and-dried conventional stuff about the river becoming one with the Ocean and
man becoming one with Brahma. […] The sort of language that is admired by many Indians,
unfortunately, does not, in fact, mean anything” (Dutta and Robinson 1995:96??) []
Most western philosophers with a limited understanding of these core eastern
philosophy concepts have perhaps misunderstood Tagore’s conception. Shows that they
have heard lectures before, but failed to think through core concepts and link…such
unreflected comments point. About the dynamic interplay of certain aspects of relity
that can only partially be captured by intelletct and theredore not subject to nanlytical
categories. This makes way for story going beyond ontological categories. Brahma putra
island – reference here…russel and west want to put things in neat categories – rigid
ontological boundaries. Thuis assumption is one of the big obstructin.
Freya Mathews most strongly contends that the shortcomings of environmental
philosophy discourse to date may not necessarily lie in its content, including its
ecological or anti-dualist narrative in the case of deep ecology but rather a
‘motivational turn’ has not occurred because of the nature of discourse itself. This
notion is influenced by philosopher and sinologist Francois Jullien, who suggests that
the root of modern misunderstandings lies in the act of theorising itself, encompassing
both our metaphysical views of reality and our epistemological approach to
understanding the world (Mathews, 2023:46). Ontopoetics, then, is an invitation to
move beyond the discursive nature of discourse to explore the premise “that there exists
an inner aspect of reality which is expressed via a communicativity 18 that coexists with
but does not over-ride physical causality” (italics mine) (Mathews 2017).
This critique not only highlights the conflicting stance between philosophical
rationalism and idealism and also the fine line between philosopher, mystic and poet that
Simone Kotva explores in Effort and Grace : On the Spiritual Exercise of Philosophy but also
17
See Dutta and Robinson (1995:176) for the type of pushback Tagore received from Bertrand Russel and
George Bernard Shaw []
18
Mathews cautions that any act of communication, be it between individuals or with the world around us,
discernment and sound judgment are essential. Erroneous assumptions when interpreting others’ actions and
speech, must be avoided, just as we must be adept at recognising and understanding communicative intentions
in our interactions with the world. Recognising a ‘poetic order’ should not lead to a self-absorbed interpretation
of events. Societal wisdom and experience are invaluable in navigating this poetic order, shaping our intuitions
in understanding the communicative aspects of reality. Further exploration of this topic can be found in ‘For
Love of Matter’ (see pages 67-68).
15
the intensity of one’s commitment to a particular standpoint can be misconceived or
underappreciated when observed through a distinct cultural or philosophical viewpoint.
The field of post-colonial studies, sparked by the ground-breaking work of Edward
Saïd19, scrutinises the historical practice by the West of marginalising the “Orient.” This was
done to rationalise colonial endeavours, portraying these cultures as backward, illogical, and
fundamentally lesser than their Western counterparts. Although such overly broad and
sweeping binaries20 cannot be made, Saïd’s work, and indeed postcolonial studies as a field,
point to how cultural backgrounds shape our interactions with the world and emphasise the
necessity to surpass the prejudices and stereotypes rooted in an era of colonial exploitation
that held particular ontologies and epistemologies as superior. In an increasingly globalised
world, marked by ecological and social injustices, these prevailing modes of being and
knowing are subject to rigorous examination and critique from both emic and etic
perspectives.
In a similar way, when othering Nature, a person’s cultural lens shapes the degree to
which they might identify with and value different aspects of nature, sometimes leading to a
dismissal of unfamiliar expressions of love, identification and connection.
David Haberman’s ‘Loving Stones’ (2020) provides a comprehensive exploration of
the religious and cultural facets of human interaction with nature. Exploring the worship of
Mount Govardhan as a case study, Haberman examines how cultural and religious
backgrounds shape individuals’ perceptions of and relationships with the natural
environment. This analysis reveals that the social contexts into which people are integrated
profoundly influence their views of nature, frequently resulting in the belief that their own
perspective is uniquely genuine and as “singularly authentic” (p.50). For those unfamiliar
with such a worldview, worshipping a stone or a mountain may appear as idolatry. However,
for a devotee, justifying their worship is unnecessary, as the inability to understand or
perceive clearly lies with the observer, not the practitioner (p.49).
Yet, such superimposition of the divine onto Nature or into idols is not without its
critics within the culture itself, as seen in the re-evaluation of idol worship by figures like
Kabir, Namdev and many of the sufi poets, who advocate for a more direct, unmediated
19
In Orientalism: Western Conceptions of the Orient (1978) Saïd draws mainly on Middle Eastern materials , it
is in Culture and Imperialism (1993) that he extends this using: “European writing on Africa, India, parts of the
Far East, Australia” that he sees as “ part of the general European effort to rule distant lands and peoples and,
therefore, as related to Orientalist descriptions of the Islamic world” (p.xi)
20
Saïd’ himself later speaks about “interdependent histories” and “the problem of homogenisation” in an
interview for Radical Philosophy (1993), repr. in Power, Politics and Culture. Interviews with Edward W. Said,
ed. Gauri Viswanathan (London: Bloomsbury, 2005), p. 220.
16
connection with the divine in nature. Kabir for example, sings: “Kabir, they’ve spoiled
devotion/bathing stones and pebbles/The poison’s stored inside,/the nectar’s poured away.”
(Kabir, Hess & Siṃha:2002:119). Such criticism was not rooted in the belief that God is
absent from these objects, but rather in the conviction that God’s presence is not limited to
any single form or place, reflecting a more expansive understanding of divinity. []
And during the 19th century figures such as Ram Mohan Roy rejected idol worship, a
stance that was core in the establishment of the Brahmo Samaj. Tagore echoed similar
sentiments regarding the limitations of idolatry in spiritual practice. His belief in the
immanence of the divine is evident in many of his works and an underlying factor of his
educational philosophy that included the cultivation of spiritual, aesthetic, and ecological
sensibilities. In Santiniketan, which was mostly barren land before Tagore introduced annual
celebrations of nature through festivals like Basanta Utsav (spring festival) and Poush Mela
(winter fair), as well as Vriksharopana (tree planting ceremony) and Halakarshana
(ploughing ritual), as an expression of this spiritual connection. Here, he not only cultivated
the land into a lush haven, moreover, the beauty and renewal of spring and the arrival of
winter were not merely observed; through celebration, song, dance, tree-planting rituals, and
readings, the changing nature in and of these seasons were deeply experienced and actively
integrated into the fabric of life and learning.
In chapter one of this thesis, the complex dialogue surrounding human engagement
with the natural world was discussed, highlighting the tension between cultural and religious
reverence and environmental stewardship. This tension becomes even more pronounced
when considering the exploitation of sacred lands, such as the river Ganga or Amazon
rainforest, that, despite being considered sacred by indigenous communities and critical for
global ecological health, face relentless pollution and deforestation, respectively. I mention
this here to note the paradox of belief. In contrast to this Anthropocentric exploitation of
Nature, some believe that divine entities, like the sacred waters, inherently possess self-
purifying abilities, viewing natural disasters as divine retribution for human misdeeds,
reflecting a perspective where the divine directly influences ecological outcomes (Bilimoria
& Rayner, 2024 p.197; p.233). Spiritual and religio-cultural ideas about the divinity of
Nature have their limitations and in practice have not seen any concrete change in the overall
ecological behaviour of the masses.21 This is somewhat dependent on how God works in and
through Nature is viewed. A classic example is the clash of perspectives between Tagore and
21
In chapter one we touched upon the inspirational and exceptional cases such as the Bishnoi and Chipko
movements and also the problems with a Romantic view of Nature.
17
Gandhi over the Bihar earthquake22 and also due to the changing priorities of a developing
nation (Bilimoria & Rayner, 2024).
Beyond such external paradox, Tagore, as we saw in Chapter 4 of this thesis,
attributes a deeper connection to place that is passed down generationally and moulds the
human relationship to the land. This bears resonance with contemporary environmental
thinkers who consider the human-nature connection influential on the human psyche and in
this way influence action. Such ways of thinking surpass cultural limits and debates over
idolatry or divine concepts, pointing towards a personal realisation that includes Nature in its
attainment.
Næss’s concept of the ‘ecological self’ integrates the natural world into our very
identity, emphasizing ‘identification’ with nature as a pathway to self-realization and self-
love. This principle underpins his belief in the intrinsic value of nature and our concern for
its well-being, as articulated in his essay ‘Self-Realization: An Ecological Approach to Being
in the World,’ he states:
Because of an inescapable process of identification with others, with increasing maturity the self is
widened and deepened. We “see our-selves in others.” Our self-realization is hindered if the self-
realization of others, with whom we identify, is hindered. Our love of our self will fight this
hindering process by assisting in the self-realization of others according to the formula “Live and
let live!” (2005:516)
22
Tagore and Gandhi famously diverged in their interpretations of the devastating Bihar earthquake in 1934.
Gandhi viewed the earthquake as a divine retribution against the sin of untouchability, suggesting that the
disaster was a moral lesson from God to prompt societal reform. Tagore strongly objected to this interpretation,
arguing that attributing natural disasters to moral causes misrepresents the nature of such events and unjustly
rationalises human suffering. This disagreement highlighted a broader philosophical rift between the two:
Gandhi often infused his political and social activism with spiritual convictions, while Tagore promoted a more
rational and humanistic approach to understanding the world.
18
life forms, transcending aesthetics, size, and sentience.: “Human nature is such that with
sufficient ‘all-sided maturity’ we cannot avoid ‘identifying’ oursel[ves] with all living beings,
beautiful or ugly, big or small, sentient or not.” (Næss, 2005:515). This conception underlines
an expanded self-concept that comes through an “all-sided maturity” that results in an
identification with all existence.
In Toward a Transpersonal Ecology, Warwick Fox, building on Næss’s thought,
presents a nuanced understanding of ‘identification’ within the context of ecological
consciousness and self-realisation, writing that identification should be taken to mean “the
experience not simply of a sense of similarity with an entity but of a sense of commonality”
(1995:231). Christian Diehm further delineates human-nature identification further in the
paper ‘Identification with Nature,’, framing it as an “identification-as-belonging”—a distinct
feeling of community or unity with the non-human world. Within the deep ecology
framework, various configurations exist but can generally be divided into two broad
categories: “personal,” referring to the sense of unity with other beings that arises from direct
personal engagement with them, and “transpersonal,” which broadens our sense of
community to include beings with whom we have not had direct contact, such as the cosmos:
“It is the recognition of our place in the larger scheme of things and as our self “. (2007:7).
Identification is triggered or realised in any “situation that elicits intense empathy”
(Næss:517). When we see and feel the suffering of another. For Næss, one such incident was
when he observed a flea’s prolonged and agonising death after it accidentally leapt into a
pool of acid, eliciting in him a profound sense of identification and compassion. He did not
merely feel for the flea; he saw an aspect of himself in its struggle. This identification
allowed him to experience true empathy, a cornerstone for compassion and solidarity for
living beings as far removed from the human as a flea.
Another example is Jadav Payeng of the Mising tribe, also known as the Forest Man
of India, who has dedicated several decades to planting trees. His remarkable journey was
triggered by an “intense empathy” when he witnessed a group of snakes that had perished due
to the lack of shade. [see Appendix 2 for the case study].
Payeng and Næss’s moment of intense empathy prompted radical and sustained action
that was induced by an inner realisation of a profound identification and connection for the
flea and snakes alike. Their subsequent action was incited from immediate contact and not
externally mediated or influenced by any particular external or “media” forces; there were no
scientific reports or policy documents or news headlines. There was a direct experience of
19
connection with the non-human being that was so powerful that it influenced and shaped the
activities of their entire lives.
This is not to say that external media does not play a role in disseminating knowledge,
however it does not appear to have actively changed societal behaviour in such a
transformational way. [This is elaborated on in a sub-section of chapter 1].
The parallel between Deep Ecology and the Mising worldviews is interesting. Both
emphasise a dynamic and expansive understanding of self-identity in relation to nature.
While the former proposes a theoretical expansion of the self from an individual to a
universal level, the Misings live this expansion through their animistic beliefs and rituals.
This confluence of ecological philosophy and indigenous spiritual practice illustrates a
profound, universal human capacity for identification with the natural world. It is a journey of
expanding consciousness, where one’s sense of self transcends individual boundaries,
embracing a broader, more inclusive identity with the natural world. This holistic view,
embodied both in philosophical discourse and in the lived experiences of indigenous
communities like the Misings, underscores the essential unity and interdependence of all life,
paving the way for a more harmonious coexistence with our natural environment. Both these
worldviews emphasise identification with Nature, one comes from a bottom-up expansion
and the other a top-down transmutation.
Piers Locke, provides another formation of the human-nonhuman relationship. In his
study ‘Elephants as persons, Affective Apprenticeship, and Fieldwork with Nonhuman
Informants in Nepal,’ he presents elephants as subjective actors in ethnographic research,
focusing on their personhood and the emotional interactions between humans and elephants.
Lock’s experiences with a female elephant, highlight the interspecies sociality which not
only challenges the human-centric ethnographic traditions but expands the very notion of
human-nonhuman categories of relation. He identifies three types of relationships between:
(1) humans and God, whereby the Lord Ganesh is reflected in the elephant, (2) human and
animal whereby the elephant has to be coerced in some way and (3) human and co-worker,
whereby there is recognition and mutual understanding. His account demonstrates that
openness and love can transform interactions between humans and nonhumans, showing that
such interactions can make ontological boundaries malleable, flexible and enriched by
emotional bonds.
Tagore, Næss, Payeng, and Locke’s examples illustrate the extent to which we
identify with and ethically regard the Other significantly shapes our motivation and
inspiration, affecting how we perceive and behave towards them. Such identification can
20
lead to various entities—be they stones, trees, animals, or other humans—can shape the
nature and intensity of our love or care towards them. Our limits of identity and the
responsiveness we extend are intertwined, influencing how we connect with different
ontological categories, animate or inanimate. And with malleable, flexible interactions, that
are permeable and constructed rather than fixed enriched by emotional bonds, the human-
nature relationship depends upon what we attend to and deem significant, which is
determined by what we love. [LINK ONTOPOETICS] This is a conscious choice made at
both the individual and socio-cultural level, but what happens when we don’t choose love?
21
Tagore, to some extent, talks to this point in RiL, where he suggests that to realise
love independently of our egocentric likes and dislikes requires an ethical stance rooted in
dharma. For Tagore: “The human soul is on its journey from the law to love, from discipline
to liberation, from the moral plane to the spiritual” (Sādhanā:106). This journey moves the
individual to sublime realms of love, liberation and spirituality 23 through very concrete
applications of law, discipline and morality. The question of whether ordinary individuals can
live according to such high ideals is raised by Knut Jacobsen (1996), amongst others. This is
true of Næss and Payeng, not just Tagore, who all seemed to have access to Nature in ways
that most people don’t, giving them the ability to disconnect from the complexities and
practical challenges inherent in daily life and be alert and aware of the Natural environment.
Something that is seemingly impossible in urban settings. Tagore himself suffered from being
overburdened from his institutional work—that took away from his natural proclivity as a
poet and naturalist, ever looking for ways to escape and be even closer to Nature (Baktay
cited in Bangha, 2007:251).
Even so, this did not quench Tagore’s aspirations or endeavours to live a life in and of
love. In his interpretation of Brahma-vihār, communion with this Infinite is attained through
the heightening of our consciousness into love and extending it all over the world
(Sadhana:60) This heightened vision is attained through continuous “practice of realising
affirming the presence of the infinite in all things” (italics mine, Sadhana:13). This
heightening of consciousness necessarily “transcends pride, hatred, and deception.” Universal
harmony is reached by having “measureless love for all creatures” (Sadhana:59). This
transcends the superimposition of the divine onto Nature.
Love as a foundation contains an ethical and compassionate facet within itself,
broadening its scope beyond interpersonal and human interactions to encompass universal
compassion and a profound inclination towards empathy and non-violence across all forms of
life. It is through dharma or right action that the individual can reach the heights of fulfilment
and come to experience such a foundational conception of love not at the expense of it.
23
In a subsequent part of “RiL,” Tagore characterizes spiritual vision as the perception of the entire truth. He
argues that our desires for pleasure, material gain, and comfort degrade humanity to its basest level, constituting
a form of self-deception on a grand scale.
22
Tagore, as opposed to other ecophilosophers, lays more emphasis on the pre-eminence of
humans. In a passage from Religion of Man he notes:
“…that, this world, consisting of what we call animate and inanimate things, has found its
culmination in man, its best expression. Man as a creation, represents the Creator, and this is why
of all creatures it has been possible for him to comprehend this world in his knowledge and his
feeling and in his imagination, to realise in his individual spirit a union with a Spirit that is
everywhere.” (1958:103).
Despite the possibility of trying to appeal to the audience at hand, Tagore’s seemingly
individualistic stance could be useful in facing our current ecological predicament as it gives
humans greater moral and ethical responsibility. If the massive destructive changes in the
natural environment are a result of human activity, then humans, who can connect with nature
should they choose to, have the capacity to imagine a new way of being and living in
harmony with the it. In fact, they must, if they are to realise the Infinite—a belief that Tagore
spent much of his life striving to articulate. Shrivastava reflects: “Tagore’s great quest
throughout his life was to harmonise the Infinite with the finite” (Shrivastava in Ahiṃsā
Conversation, 2020) and as we have seen in section 1, Tagore considered the purpose and
meaning of the human’s role and stature in the cosmos was to harmonise the finite self with
the infinite through the fullest expression of love. Tagore's philosophy of nature centres on
23
the idea of human beings developing a profound connection and affection for the natural
world, which leads to a spiritual awakening where the self is perceived as intertwined with
nature. He believed that by embracing our bond with nature, we transcend the "prison-like
walls" of the individual self. Furthermore, the utilitarian approach to Nature that was then
forming and now prevailing as practices, stems from humans’ alienation from Nature. For
Tagore: “the valuation of nature is instrumental only to the degree that love itself is
instrumental in its dependence on the object of love” (Lopresti, 2008:149).
It cannot be said that Tagore was overly human-centered or discriminatory towards other
species in the way the passage above may allude to. Tagore’s underlying and consistent focus
on love as the key to harmonising the finite with the infinite and humans with nature. As we
saw in Section 1, this conception of love allows for both unity and distinct identities between
lover and beloved; Tagore's environmental ethics are shielded from being dismissed as
spiciest or mere capricious aesthetic appreciation—Chapter 7 discusse this theme.
This connects to Tagore's epistemology, whereby love is experienced and cultivated by the
individual through renunciation and daily introspective practices; it prevents Tagore’s vision
of unity with nature from devolving into mere cliché—that humans are part of nature and are
enriched by this bond—but rather provides practical, embodied praxis. Gupta makes an
erroneous implication by citing 'Sahityer Pathe' (On the way to literature), where Tagore
makes a distinction between "fact" and "truth” writing: "Something is a fact. It becomes true
when it is experienced or felt" (p. 62). However, as we see from Tagore’s epistemology this
does not mean that nature itself is somehow "true" when "we are involved in it" (p. 62) but
rather for Tagore, as Lopresti points out “nature is not something that can be true or false,
fact or fiction; rather, our relationship with nature can facilitate in us a direct experience of
the truthfulness of spiritual harmony.” (149)
In exploring Tagore’s connection with nature and the cosmos, his philosophy presents a
unique blend of love, that brings with it a knowing that transcends reason. This bears
resonance to the Sanskrit term jñātṛtva (knowership). The link between Tagore’s conception
of love and the type of knowing it brings about provides a defence for Tagore’s human
exceptionalism which we can redefine as an ‘enlivened, radical anthropacentrism’.
24
Like other founding ecophilosophers and Nature mystics, Tagore bestows upon Nature a
distinct attribute that can be apprehended when we are fully engaged with it. According to
Tagore, Nature ignites an immediate encounter that allows us to comprehend the omnipresent
existence of God, a realisation exclusive to the human species:
At once I came to a world wherein I recovered my full meaning. My mind touched the creative
realm of expression […] The rhythmic picture of the tremulous leaves beaten by the rain opened
before my mind the world which does not merely carry information, but a harmony with my
being. The unmeaning fragments lost their individual isolation and my mind revelled in the unity
of a vision. (1958:95-96)
In the commentary, Tagore refers to this deity as Vishvakarma – world actor or world
architect. The multiplicity of names and forms is his outer manifestation as Nature. His inner
manifestation is through the heart of man. This immediate way of knowing or understanding
of truth comes from direct intuition. (p.25). It differs from way of knowing differs from usual
analysis through mediated epistemologies, ie pratyakṣa (direct perception, through the
senses) and anumāna (inference) where viṣayas (sensory objects) are first perceived by the
indriyas (senses), processed by the manas (mind), and then discerned by the buddhi
(intellect). The knowledge acquired is then channelled back through the mānas to the
karmendriyas (organs of action). This direct form of understanding is distinctly not śabda, or
testimony from an outside authority.
25
Another example of such an immediate knowing comes from Aldo Leopold, who
experienced a transformational epiphany upon witnessing the death of a she-wolf he had just
shot:
We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes. I realised then, and
have known ever since, that there was something new to me in those eyes – something known
only to her and to the mountain. I was young then, and full of trigger-itch; I thought that because
fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves would mean hunters’ paradise. But after seeing the
green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view
(1949:130.).
Leopold's transformative encounter reveals an inherent vitality shared across all living
beings, fostering a deeper understanding of life's interconnectedness. An experience that led
him to become one of the founding foreparents of environmental philosophy spending a
lifetime advocating for the natural world. Dipesh Chakrabarti’s pivot from human to
planetary history, was inspired by a feeling of intense loss that led to an awakening to
ecological crisis.
These examples point to a deeper reality under the surface of objective perception, and that
through a shift in awareness, humans have the capacity to access this reality and experience
more profound meaning and connection in the world, through its very beauty and rhythm.
Tagore’s conception of the human’s place in the world, however, seems to diverge, and
perhaps it is just emphasis rather than actual difference, from the biocentric and panpsychist
perspectives like those offered by Næss and Mathews. Mathews expands ideas of connevity
in ‘Love of Matter’ to an invitation to a more dialogical and communicative approach to the
human-Nature relationship. This ontopoetic way of being in the world is poetic—”a
communicative engagement between self and world” (Mathews 2009) which resonates with
Tagore’s analysis of poetry: the ability to enter one’s own soul, the soul of others and the soul
of the nature is poesy.’ (Tagore, 1882); the difference being that the soul, which Tagore
names love, is the root of the cosmos.
‘The Horse’ (see Appendix 2), a short story Tagore wrote in 1919, illustrates the paradox of
human progress: the desire to harness nature for human benefit often leads to the evisceration
of the very essence that makes nature fecund, beautiful and unique. The narrative of jñātṛtva
— knowership, as it engenders knowledge—this force of the need ‘to know’ can be a double-
26
edged sword. This pursuit solidifies our findings into distinct categories, emerging from our
existential endeavours, and has the potential to ensnare us. Policies become expressions of
these ontological fruits, which, through repetition and ossification, restrict our behaviours to
actions we believe are mandated by these policies, often built on the erroneous premise that
Nature’s value is solely in its utility to us. Nevertheless, Norton (1984, 1992) contends that an
enlightened anthropocentrism would ultimately result in policies that intrinsically value
nonhuman life forms.
Tagore’s vision of human exceptionalism pivots not on a hierarchy that elevates humanity
above nature but on the premise of profound responsibility and human agency. This
ontological elevation of humans is not a carte blanche for exploitation but a call to
stewardship rooted in moral and ethical imperatives that sprout from an intrinsic Oneness that
for Tagore is the nature of Love. In distinguishing this from the conventional
anthropocentrism that has arguably precipitated the environmental crisis, it is imperative to
note that Tagore’s exceptionalism derives from a deeper, almost spiritual, kinship with
nature. It is this intrinsic connection that mandates humans to act as conscientious guardians
of the natural world, rather than as its sovereigns. Such a standpoint is crucial in the current
discourse on environmental philosophy, which often views human exceptionalism with
scepticism due to its potential to justify environmental degradation.
Chakrabarty also confronts the Anthropocene’s demand for a new human self-understanding
that transcends the historical narrative’s anthropocentric bounds. He critically engages with
the kind of human exceptionalism Tagore’s exceptionalism is not about domination but about
acknowledging the human as an integral part of the planetary life. Chakrabarty urges us to see
humans as a force of Nature that has irrevocably altered the planet, thereby inheriting an
unprecedented ethical responsibility. This concept resonates with Tagore’s call for a profound
moral and ethical responsibility towards Nature, which is inherent in the Indian philosophical
notion of jñātṛtva — a deep awareness of our role as knowers and agents within the larger
cosmic order. This concept is critical in understanding his thought on his own terms.
27
Conclusion
24
For an extensive discussion on the impact of science and technology on the environment and its role in
shaping contemporary society, see: Freeman, C., & Soete, L. (2007). “Science, technology and innovation
indicators: the twenty-first century challenges” in Science, technology and innovation indicators in a changing
world: responding to policy needs; Erickson, M. (2016). Science, culture and society: Understanding science in
the 21st century. Additionally, Phalkey, J., & Lam, T. (2016) explore the influence of these developments on
India’s intellectual landscape in “Science of giants: China and India in the twentieth century,” Themes
28
In Tagore’s worldview, like many Indic schools of thoughts, the soteriological project
is mukti. As we have seen in the comparison of terms sections, this freedom differs in that it
is attained in and through love and a full engagement with and embodiment of the world
rather than denying or renouncing it. Rather it is the renunciation of the coils of the
selfishness of the ego that gives rise to the Universal Man; this human exceptionalism
contrasts with the anthropocentric worldview.
As an alternative sensibility to tackle a now systemic issue, perhaps a move towards a
foundation of love is what is required at least, as Hall (p.223) suggests, by some members of
the community, if we are going to move from an ‘ecological turn’ in knowing to a
‘motivational turn’ in doing and being. Tagore’s sāmañjasya love achieves the identification
that Næss, Payeng and Locke advocate, but what makes it useful in the purpose of this thesis,
to develop an improved ecosophy, is its focus on the texture of lived human experience, and
the social, communal context in which it harmonises and bridges disparate realms of
existence—in our case, the disconnection between humans and Nature and knowledge and
action, through following a path of dharma. Tagore’s ecosophy is centred within a wider
soteriological endeavour: through the exceptionally human ability to come to know the
Infinite through Nature.
The argument of this over all thesis is two-fold: that it is our growing disconnection
from Nature that is a key contributor to our lack of care and that even though there has been
an ecological turn in awareness and growing anxiety about the destructive ecological changes
that are occurring at an unprecedented rate, it has not led to a substantial motivational change.
In this chapter, we have found that Tagore’s conception of love has practical, ethical and
sustainable potential for both rethinking our disconnection and also motivating a change in
behaviour.
29