The politics of the Buddha’s genitals

Maybe some people have an incredibly deep-seated reluctance to engage a thread about genitalia? In any context at all?

The term lingakośa just means prepuce, see pic below in and Indian context. I know it’s got Shiva’s head on it, but the idea of what is meant by kosa in the picture (the decorative cover which has been attached to the linga) should be comprehensible by its location. In one period, it was fashionable to offer an ornamented kosa to a Shiva linga…nothing complicated there (if you ignore the whole mukhalinga thing).

If we compare the ohita in kosohita to Sanskrit avahita, we can see that this is, in fact, 100% the correct verb for putting a sword, etc, into its sheath. C.f. यथा क्षुरः क्षुरधानेऽ- वहितः (yathā kṣuraḥ kṣuradhāne’- vahitaḥ) Bṛ. Up.1.4.7.

Kosa is just a word with an intimidating semantic range: sometimes it means vessel, sometimes it means cover or integument, what to do? At least Buddhaghosa got it spot on when he said:

Bhagavato hi varavāraṇasseva kosohitaṃ vatthaguyhaṃ suvaṇṇavaṇṇaṃ padumagabbhasamānaṃ.

Explicitly, it’s like a male horse’s genitals. More poetically, it’s like the sepals of a closed lotus bud (padumagabbha). The kid from the Nalinika Jataka knew nothing, which is why it’s funny. He’s not a reliable source on these things. :babel_fish:

4 Likes

In McGovern’s article, he mentions that he was unable to consult Zysk’s work, The Indian System of Human Marks (2016). Out of curiosity, I looked into this work, and one interesting result came up for the thirty-two marks in Google Books. But of course the view was very limited (snippet view). So, I did the reasonable thing, and got my hands on the hardcover two-volume set.

The early Indian physiognomy systems presented by Zysk are interesting in that they show so many different lists of marks for men and women. The marks are often made with obscure references to lines on the body, or analogies to animals in ways that to us would seem quite unflattering whether they are meant to be positive or negative. In light of these other ancient systems, the marks listed for the Buddha don’t even seem very strange or unusual.

Zysk also connects the earlier traditions and texts to modern traditions. He has apparently done quite a bit of fieldwork, presenting his experiences with fortune tellers and physiognomy in modern India. He’s clearly passionate and curious about the subject, and all its variations. That comes through despite the more academic presentation.

As mentioned earlier in this thread, the origins of these systems can be traced back to Mesopotamia. From there, they spread to India (specifically the west and northwest). And eventually then to Greece and Rome, from where there was some later influence as well. So what we are dealing with is a large body of knowledge, with many variations, traveling across cultures.

In these two volumes, there is one chapter primarily that deals with the 32 marks. Or maybe I should say that the chapter is broadly based on a type of numerology of marks for men, numbering 31-33 depending on the tradition. The method of dividing and counting the different parts of the body also apparently served as a mnemonic device for memorizing the different parts of the body (149).

As with the EBT’s, non-Buddhist Indian texts may refer to the mahāpuruṣalakṣaṇāni (156). So they are the “marks of a great man”, but with none of the Buddhist implications of being a buddha or a cakravartin king. The number of marks given in Sanskrit literature is often referenced as 32; however, in extant Indian physiognomy texts, the number of marks may sometimes instead be 33 (156, 160).

Zysk is generally skeptical of the claim that the Buddhist system of 32 marks presented in the EBT’s was actually connected to the Brahmins specifically. He instead thinks it represented a more general body of knowledge that was spread from western or northwestern India (164):

In all the stories, knowledge of the collection of the thirty-two marks was part of a group of “mantras,” on which there is no further elaboration. It is unlikely that the reference here is to the Vedas, which elsewhere in the Pāli Canon are specified by manta. It is very probable that they include the different divinatory arts mentioned above [i.e. those inappropriate for ascetics and Brahmins]. Being called “mantras,” the thirty-two marks were meant to be repeated and hence memorised. In one version, they are said to have been acquired in the Deccan, which probably corresponds to the general region west of the Ganges, where such traditions were known and taught. This general location corresponds to the movement of the system of knowledge from (north)west to east.

He further connects it to systems of physiognomy that were applied specifically to royalty. This is following the theories of Burnouf, who noted that poets used the same qualities to describe epic heroes. Zysk concludes that these marks were meant to characterize men at the higher orders of society (164):

As we have noticed already from around the first century CE, the system of human marks was used by the royal orders. The connection to the warriors and Kṣatriyas supports Burnouf’s theory of the origin of the thirty-two marks in Buddhist sources. It is altogether likely, therefore, that the form of human marks found in the Buddhist texts derived from a numerical system of marks applied to kings and warriors, who lived in the region called the Deccan.

There is substantial overlap between the Buddhist 32 marks, and the 31-33 marks for men in other sources. In fact, most of the Buddhist 32 marks are found in the other texts (165-166):

A closer examination of the Buddhist Pāli and brahmanic śāstric formulations reveals the following: of the thirty-two marks of the Buddha, fourteen correspond to the śāstric lists [4, 8-10, 12-16, 19, 24-27]; of the fourteen that correspond to śāstric lists, five are from the non-fixed number and two from the fixed number of body parts. An additional seven have a semantic similarity to the śāstric formulations. They make up about two-thirds (21) of the thirty-two marks.

The marks that are unique to the Buddhist tradition are: 1-3, 5-6, 20-21, 23, 28, 30, and 31, in the traditional order of the 32 marks (165-166).

Also unique to the Buddhist tradition of 32 marks is that they are connected to buddha or cakravartin king, and connected with concepts of karma.

The major variation in the presentation of the Buddhist 32 marks is that the earlier formulas go toe-to-head (early Greece, India). However, some later texts such as the Lalitavistara and Mahāvyutpatti go from head-to-toe. Zysk suggests that the shift to head-to-toe, may have been influenced by systems of physiognomy in the Middle East and the Hellenistic world after the time of Aristotle and Polemon (170-171).

So what does this all mean for the Buddha’s genitals? Well, as number 10 in the list of 32 marks, it is included in standard fixed lists of 31-33 marks for men, grouped by characteristic. In the brahmanical śāstric formulations, the characteristic appears under the category of parts that are “short” (hrasva) (157-158). Additionally, the Bṛhatsaṃhitā says about this mark that, “kings have penises concealed in a sheath” (198).

But more broadly, it means that this particular characteristic was one part of a common body of knowledge about physiognomy for men. Probably physiognomy for high-status men in western or northwestern India.

On this last point, it may be notable that the earliest extant text on physiognomy in India (Gārgīyajyotiṣa), contains references to animals, minerals, and metals. According to the author’s analysis, those references place it around the Gandhara region (i.e. modern Afghanistan and Pakistan) (63-64).

11 Likes

Okay, excellent point. I’ll be revising my translation.

llt this is the most informative summary and survey of this topic I’ve ever seen, thanks so much!

This strikes me as a little odd, although perhaps it is just out of context. The Pali texts consistently list the marks as belonging to the Vedic ancillary literature, hence by definition, “not the Vedas”.

You recite and remember the hymns, and have mastered the three Vedas, together with their vocabularies, ritual, phonology and etymology, and the testament as fifth. You know philology and grammar, and are well versed in cosmology and the marks of a great man.

I wonder if we have rather overlooked the significance of the last phrase. The marks in Buddhism commonly appear compounded with lokāyata which, as Jayatilleke shows, must have meant something like “cosmology”. We also know that later systems developed elaborate cosmological “maps” showing how the cosmos could be described as a “purisa” a “cosmic man”. The details of the idealized human physique correspond with the shape of the world as a whole. Was this part of the context of the marks from the beginning?

??? The Deccan (dakkhiṇāpatha) is, as the name says, to the south, not the west. Presumably he’s talking about Bavari in Snp 5.1, who lived on the banks of the Godhavari river, which arises in Maharashtra and empties in the Bay of Bengal.

Bavari lived to the south-west, not north-west, and not somewhere that was part of a generalized transmission of knowledge from the north-west. Moreover, the text tells us that this was not his native land: he had traveled there from Savatthi long before, presumably bringing his knowledge with him.

The transmission of brahmanical lore was, rather, down the uttarapatha from Gandhara via Kuru, Mathura, and Savatthi. The assumption in the text, and throughout the Buddhist literature, is that the marks were part of ancient Brahmanical lore, not something that Bavari picked up in the Deccan.

9 Likes

I was wondering about that as well. Looking at maps of what people consider to be the Deccan shows regions that are mostly south / southwest. But it’s also an enormous region that seems to be practically half of India.

It seems like it would make more sense for those ideas to travel from the northwest / north, though, and there is no real need to link them to the Deccan in the first place. The Suttanipata is not cited, but Ambaṭṭha-sutta (DN 3) and Brahmāyu-sutta (MN 91) are cited in some passages. DN 3 refers to the Deccan as the place where the Brahmin Ambaṭṭha learned mantras. I’m not seeing a strong link between the Deccan and the 32 marks, although Ambaṭṭha does examine the Buddha’s 32 marks.

I think according to Zysk’s analysis, he believes that a cosmology was not part of the context of the marks at the beginning. Instead, he connects the system of human marks to the Kṣatriyas, and believes that because that knowledge was useful, it became absorbed by the Brahmins and given divine origins, to allow it to be accepted in brahmanical systems of knowledge (4):

The story of the transmission of human marks reveals a familiar theme in Indian literary history. First, a body of information useful to Brahmins is transformed into a system of knowledge via translation into didactic Sanskrit verses that mention its divine origin. Secondly, the body of information takes on a mythological evolution that associates details with the pantheon of Hindu gods and demigods. This process of Sanskritisation and Brahmanism permitted useful information to become part of legitimate brahmanic knowledge and eventually to develop into an independent system or śāstra. The Hindu medical science of Āyurveda, with which the system of human marks had similarities, has a very similar evolutionary history. By the mediaeval period, a well-established and refined system of the human marks had been incorporated into the encyclopedias of brahmanic learning, while parallel versions in Prakrit and vernacular languages were bringing it to a wider population.

In the brahmanical śāstric literature, the analogous systems tend to have 31-33 marks. The most common number is 33 marks. Zysk does identify 33 as an auspicious number, possibly related to the Vedic gods (160):

From Garga onward, the list of fixed number of body parts begins to become gradually stabilised. Although the numbers range from thirty-one to thirty-two, the predominant number is thirty-three, which is auspicious, being the total number of Vedic gods, calculated as eleven in each of the three worlds (heaven, mid-space, and earth), but the generally accepted number is thirty-two, perhaps in order to harmonise it with the total number of the marks of the Buddha.

He covers early theories about connections between hymns in the Vedic tradition very briefly, mentioning the Ṛgveda (10.90) and a hymn from the Atharvaveda (10.2), but finds them to have many differences, and to rarely be exact matches (162).

Taking a step back, in the preface, Zysk generally identifies the early Indian system of human marks as a “warrior-based system of knowledge”, and uses the Buddha as an example in his relation to the Śākyas. In this, he considers it to be different from most other forms of brahmanical knowledge (x-xi):

The story of the Indian system of human marks is different from other systems of brahmanical knowledge. Evidence suggests that original benefactors and subsequently the keepers of the knowledge of the marks were the conquerers and rulers rather than the priests and scholars. These noblemen used the medium of Prakrit rather than Sanskrit to teach and preserve the system. […] Evidence from the early books of Jyotiḥśāstra indicate that the system of knowledge as it pertained particularly to men was used to distinguish the conquerors from those they conquered. Early knowledge and use of the system of human marks had two main aims centering around power: to preserve the purity of the class of rulers and to gain knowledge of the people over whom they held dominion.

Zysk remarks that the system is in some ways a refinement of the varṇa system presented in the Vedas. It also seems to include ideas about race, and similarities to 20th-century eugenics (x-xi). That seems to put a different spin on mahāpuruṣalakṣaṇa, and similar terminology such as “the marks of all superior men” (sarvotkṛṣṭapuruṣalakṣaṇam). In the Gārgīyajyotiṣa, which uses the term mahāpuruṣalakṣaṇa, it tells us who those “great men” are. They are wealthy men, kings, generals, warriors, heroes, etc. They are contrasted with poor men, servants, cowards, evildoers, etc. (65-67).

An example given with a related numerological formula of 28 types of marks for men is given in the Rāmāyaṇa (Sundarakāṇḍa, 33.17-19). Rāma is a Kṣatriya destined to become king, so he should be expected to have the marks of a king. His brother Lakṣmaṇa should lack those marks. Hanuman cannot tell the brothers apart otherwise, so he looks for the marks of a king. In this context, the system of marks is used for identifying the heir apparent (xi, 150).

In terms of terminology, the Indian texts on physiognomy are typically divided in two parts: puruṣalakṣaṇam for men, and strīlakṣaṇam for women. The marks are typically divided between auspicious (śubha), and inauspicious (aśubha) (5).

6 Likes

Not quite: it’s where his ancestor the “dark sage” learned them, but in any case it’s an interesting detail.

The identity of the “Black Boy” as hailing from the south does, of course, fit in with the distribution of skin color in India; dark-skinned people tend to live closer to the equator.

But it is interesting that he is said to have learned the “brahmamanta” there. Whether this means the Vedas or as i have translated it “prime spell” is unclear to me. regardless, it does suggest at a distribution of brahmanical texts north from the deccan, contrary to the usual assumption they came south from Gandhara. Of course there’s no reason such transmission has to be one-way.

Okay.

seems reasonable.

Intriguing.

6 Likes

I just want to add some more details before I forget. The books have been shipped back to the library from whence they came.

Physiognomy in Buddhism

Early Buddhist texts refer to 32 marks of a “great man”, which are apparently all found in cakravartin kings and buddhas. The readers of such marks are portrayed as Brahmins. These marks often seem strange to modern readers, and later commentarial literature may not be reliable. Understanding the role of these marks and their context is worthwhile.

In other places, monastics are warned against reading the marks of men and women. This suggests that śramaṇas in northern India were in fact commonly reading those marks. So in this case, we have an example of a prohibited practice for Buddhist monastics that also paradoxically defines the Buddha in some way.

Classificiations

The system of human marks is commonly called lakṣaṇaśāstra. It may also be referred to simply as puruṣa-strī-lakṣaṇāni, the marks of men and women. In terms of function, these correspond roughly with physiognomy. The primary literary category that it is a part of is jyotiḥśāstra (astrology). In that sense, it is linked with cosmology.

This concept of astrology covers conventional astrology, along with omens, mathematics, and speculative astronomy. The marks are classified under “omens” within this system. They are also considered omens in the earliest Mesopotamian systems from which they are likely derived. In India, the marks were also later incorporated into marriage contracts, so they appear in the brahmanical literature of dharmaśāstra as well.

Jyotiḥśāstra was later incorporated into sāmudrikaśāstra, the body of knowledge attributed to the patron saint of astrology (Samudra). Originally palmistry (rekhāśāstra) was part of the system of marks. However, eventually palmistry split off and became its own system of knowledge within sāmudrikaśāstra, which then contained both jyotiḥśāstra and rekhāśāstra.

In addition to jyotiḥśāstra and related literary categories and classifications, lakṣaṇaśāstra is also embedded in some Puranical literature, and in some Buddhist literature.

Examples

Some examples of readings for marks are given below, some of them from Gārgīyajyotiṣa, although a few are from other texts.

Some readings for marks are quite descriptive and compare features to those of animals:

  • Kings are remembered for having eyes that are like those of the White-winged Wood Duck and resemble the fruits of the Caper Berry; and also for having eyes with the following marks: oily (i.e., moist) and red; reddish-brown; unifrom and fixed like a bird’s; or extended, wide, prominent and white with black. Eyes that are moon-like (i.e., placid) are auspicious and engender affection.

Seems reasonable. There is a lot of emphasis on complexion and qualities of the skin:

  • A man whose face is fleshy, oily smooth, with a lovely natural bodily glow; whose appearance is adorable; whose face is rich in colour; and whose joints are firmly set, experiences perpetual happiness.

Well there you go. If you are looking for an adorable man, remember to check if his joints are firmly set in place. Also, that natural bodily glow is prized and seems to be linked to physical health, fitness, and strength. It can be also augmented by oils, but not replaced by oils.

  • The types of masculine natural bodily glow that are idolised are a glow that is lovely, bright, and clear; a glow that resembles the sun, the moon, or a gem; or a glow that is enhanced by the threefold topical, medicinal oils.

When people read about the Buddha having some huge aura around him, they expect it to be supernatural. But there is probably a good basis to say that it has more to do with some well-to-do men who spend their time wrestling outdoors, with a natural glow of health and fitness.

  • The bodily radiance (of an idolised man) diminishes the bodily radiance of others; his handsomeness minimizes their handsomeness; and he destroys their natural body glow with his natural body glow and diminishes their eloquence with his eloquence. Without a doubt, his deportment and wealth diminish the deportment and wealth of others.

In any case, not all of these things are good for men. For both men and women, the marks are divided into auspicious and inauspicious. Some examples of negative marks:

  • Camel-eyed men are wealthy, ruthless villains. Men with great character have exalted eyes and ruthless men have one yellow eye.
  • Likewise, men who constantly blink and who have parrot’s eyes are argumentative; and men with eyes like those of donkeys, buffaloes and snakes are slain by the sword.

Marks for women are covered in the equivalent parts of the text. Here we can see how Indian physiognomy uniquely incorporated auspicious symbols into the system of marks. You can see that here, but no “wheel” symbols are listed for the feet:

  • (This is the list of auspicious marks): a conch shell, a goad, a lotus-petal, an umbrella, the earth together with a constellation; likewise, a mountain-shape, a wheel, the moon, the sun, and moreover, a flag, {a whisk-fan, a portal, a lion, a snake, a horse, a svastika, a fish, a Haṃsa-bird, a full pot, a city, a great} elephant, a pot of boiled rice (?) an ocean, a Makara-water-animal, and a banner. Now, (if) these marks appear on women’s soles and toes, the females are happy, very wealthy and endowed with offspring.

Not all marks are so symbolic, though. Some can seem like quite arbitrary ways to keep people away who were deemed too crude or in poor health. Something as simple as scratched toenails could be considered inauspicious and a bad omen:

  • Expect toenails that are short, broken, scratched, colourless, …, pale, split or that resemble wild snakes and the nails of female jackals to belong to women who are steeped in misery.

Here I’ll give one last reading showing how some of the oldest Mesopotamian marks resurface occasionally in Indian marks, like for body hair that curls in one direction or the other:

  • People adore women who have armpits with a concave form, delicate hairs and (good) complexion, are symmetrical, {have (hairs?) that twist clockwise} and are both spacious and subtle.

So there you go. If these seem strange, believe me that these are some very normal readings. I’ve left the types of marks that are NSFW, as the vast majority do not directly tie in with the 32 marks.

4 Likes

Damn. Seconding this. I did Kung Fu for a while and all the scary (lol) and really intense fighters were women–nothing like showing your own internal misogyny by assuming you can take someone down just because they’re a woman and being proven very, very, very wrong. Especially when the women have Chinese broadswords. Or fists. Or are just generally more trained than you.

1 Like

Dear Bhante Sujato
Thank you for your explanation.
This whole gender issue is outside Buddha’s teachings as well as the invaluable truth he discovered and revealed about the Existence. Physical body provides only a place for the Mind to reside temporarily and the parts of the body have to perform different activities for the survival and for propagation and produce the progeny. Some animals have both reproductive organs in the same body but the higher the order in the animal kingdom, it becomes distinct and separate. Like any other appendage of the body, the sexual parts too have a job to perform like the heart pumps blood, brain stores the memory and helps with the senses, lungs to purify blood, etc. The human if not super human or not wise cannot understand the functions of the Mind and the Body. Why should one little part of the body or human physiology gets more prominence over the others, in determining whom you want to become spiritually, intellectually or worldly? It’s in the Mind that decides what you want!
Probably, Brahmanism or other older beliefs in the society must have seeped into or added into Buddha’s Teachings after about 100 years from Buddha’s Parinirvana. If everything else in the world changes except the ‘Change’ or the concept of Change one can expect anything to happen to Buddha’s Teachings too which has been carried along mainly via Oral Tradition until it was made into a Text. The Wise sees the Truth, which was Buddha’s first realisation, and that was why he said that “My Teachings are for those with Panna (Wisdom”
:pray::pray::pray:
Janakie

As I’m currently doing some research into the interesting topic of queerness in buddhism, I came across this post again.

I would not say intersex, but androgynous.

The following is from R.P. Goldman in Transsexualism, gender, and anxiety in traditional India. Journal of the American Oriental Society, 113(3):374–401, 1993. URL http://www.jstor.org/stable/605387.


Of Ramakrishna his followers reported:

“his genitals became contracted and entered completely into his body, like the limbs of a tortoise”

Of Yogananda it is also reported:

“Master exemplified the androgynous balance of the perfect human being.”

The idea that profound and perfect sexual abstinence itself can lead to the inversion of the male genitalia or even their conversion into breasts, in the case of great yogis, is occasionally encountered. On this, see the interesting discussion at W. Doniger O’Flaherty. Women, Androgynes, and Other Mythical Beasts. University of Chicago Press, 1982


I therefore indeed suggest the reading that as the Buddha is the perfect human being, he (they) should be androgynous.

3 Likes

So he didn’t have a son then?

2 Likes

Sutta is a tool to guide us to the truth. It is simply a tool, it is not the truth. Since it is a tool and not the truth, it can be fabricated. The persons or details in the Sutta may be real or not real. However, that is not the purpose or concern of the Sutta. It does not try to convey the actuality of the events or persons in it. It is trying to convey some meanings that guide us to the truth.

If we look at MN91, it states that the marks of a great man has been handed down in the brahmin’s tradition’s hymns. It means that a great man is defined or determined by his appearance or his body according to this tradition. However, the Buddha never teaches us that.

Using the idea of the physical marks of a great man in that tradition, the authors of the sutta intentionally make the marks as weird as possible. This shows us the weirdness of the idea. Nobody who has not lost his mind can see that as normal or acceptable. That is what the Sutta is trying to convey. It also emphasizes the absurdity of the idea by adding the two parts that are missing and that the Buddha also wants to show off them.

By rejecting the physical marks of a great man in that tradition, it starts showing us the characters of the Buddha. His right mindfulness in all actions, his contentment, his right speech, right action… This is the true marks of a great man according to Buddhism. This is the real focus of the sutta.

In the next Sutta MN92, we can see the authors begin to describe how the Buddha looks like physically in its verse. There is nothing abnormal with the appearance.

I think MN91 is a very interesting Sutta. It helps us to distinguish the finger and the moon, and to break our habits of grasping onto the wordings or the persons in the Suttas.

Taking these tales as a myth, as mentioned by Bhantes article, indicates that the Buddha is untraceable in the real world. If we take physical birth as the beginning of contact with the objective world, then it becomes clear how sex is a social construct. If the nature of constructs takes form as its basis, then form can be utilized to convey it as a myth.

There are aspects of us that are better explained through myth than science. Sexuality is one of these instances where using science has its limitations.