Part II, Chapter 2: The Truth of Origin: Which Level Does Madhyamaka's Diagnosis Strike?

The previous chapter tested the truth of suffering and concluded that, beneath the claim that it “remains unchanged,” Madhyamaka relocates suffering from formations into view. This chapter follows that relocation to the next link, the truth of origin. The problem can be put in a sentence: Madhyamaka diagnoses suffering's root as the view of intrinsic existence, an erroneous judgment at the epistemic level; is the level identified by this diagnosis the level at which suffering actually occurs? If not, an attack on the view of intrinsic existence, however precise, does not logically guarantee suffering's cessation.

1. Madhyamaka texts are an epistemological enterprise, attacking “post-reflective self-grasping”

What is the main content of the Mūlamadhyamakakārikā, Yuktiṣaṣṭikā, and Vigrahavyāvartanī, and of Candrakīrti's Madhyamakāvatāra and Prasannapadā? Analytical tests of concepts—motion, time, causation, self, perception, and language—showing that any concept assigned intrinsic nature generates internal contradictions, and thereby arguing that dharmas lack intrinsic nature. This is a highly abstract project of conceptual analysis. Its operation presupposes a subject capable of philosophical reflection, who commands concepts such as “I,” “dharma,” “intrinsic nature,” “permanence,” and “oneness,” and has assigned them intrinsic nature at the reflective level.

What Madhyamaka attacks is this self-grasping at the post-reflective level. A cognitive subject capable of reflection reifies the “I” through reflective activity, forming judgments such as “there is an independently existing, fixed and unchanging I,” and organizing cognition and values around it.1 This self-grasping forms at the reflective level, so arguments at that level can in principle unsettle it. It is itself a product of reflection, and reflection can test and revise its own products.

This explains why Madhyamaka arguments are so philosophically precise: their opponent is precisely the conceptual grasping formed by a reflective cognitive subject. Breaking it requires a stronger argument at the same reflective level. Reductio works precisely because it derives a contradiction within the opponent's framework of reflection, making it impossible to maintain the original position within that framework.

2. The “I” of the early discourses lies at the pre-reflective level

The early Nikāyas, however, address “self-grasping” with an emphasis on a more immediate experiential level, rather than on conceptual grasping at the reflective level: a pre-reflective psychological tendency. The three sets of evidence and the criteria for distinguishing these levels are given in the note.2

Phenomenologically, this tendency is a continually occurring “relation to me”: this event concerns me, this thing is mine, this feeling is one I am feeling. It is an automatic operation that immediately appropriates what appears in the stream of experience as “mine.” Such appropriation (upādāna) can operate actively without an explicit philosophical belief that “an eternal I exists.” It is in fact more immediate than any explicit philosophical belief, prior to reflection, and more deeply embedded in the basic structure of the experiential stream.

The central operation of the Anattalakkhaṇasutta is to test every component of the five aggregates directly in experience: form, feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness are each observed as “This is not mine; this is not I; this is not my self.”3 This is a direct observational intervention in the experiential stream itself, presupposing no philosophical reflection or conceptual analysis. Someone who knows nothing of theories of intrinsic nature or emptiness can observe as instructed. The practice of the four establishments of mindfulness likewise directly observes body, feelings, mind, and dharmas experientially; its efficacy does not depend on accepting any philosophical proposition.

The difference is structural. The practice of the early discourses aims to observe directly and loosen the automatically operating tendency to appropriate at the pre-reflective level. Its tool is the immediate awareness of mindfulness practice, not conceptual analysis. Madhyamaka practice aims to identify and overturn conceptual grasping at the reflective level, using reductio and the view of emptiness. The two traditions confront different levels of “self-grasping”: one precedes reflection; the other lies within it.

3. The separation between cognitive understanding and emotional response

One might reply that, even if the levels differ, right view at the reflective level can still penetrate downward and change the workings of the pre-reflective level. This claim faces an empirical difficulty: there is a structural separation between cognitive understanding and habitual patterns of emotion and conduct.

We do not crave something merely because we hold the mistaken cognitive judgment that “this will bring lasting satisfaction.” Even clear knowledge that satisfaction is brief and repeated craving brings more suffering often cannot prevent craving from actually arising. People with addictions understand the harm of addiction perfectly well at a rational level; this clarity does not automatically lead to stopping. Someone prone to anger over many years can accurately analyze afterward how disproportionate the anger was; that analysis does not remove the next outburst. Someone with chronic anxiety may clearly understand its irrational sources, yet anxiety still recurs. Introduction, Chapter 2 already noted this phenomenon in discussing “direct confrontation.” This separation is a structural feature of human psychology, not an occasional aberration. Neuroscientific research offers indirect support: the neural bases of emotional responses, including subcortical structures such as the amygdala, have considerable functional independence from higher cognition associated with the prefrontal cortex.4 Knowing at the reflective level does not amount to ceasing to react in old ways at the pre-reflective level.

Put this structure into a Madhyamaka setting. A practitioner has studied Nāgārjuna's arguments for years and is intellectually certain that dharmas lack intrinsic nature. Has this removed self-grasping? In a quiet discussion, the practitioner can fluently say, “All dharmas are empty; self-grasping is delusive.” Yet when publicly humiliated, when a loved one is hurt, or when the practitioner's reputation is falsely attacked, the immediate response may well be fundamentally no different from that of someone who has never encountered Madhyamaka philosophy. “Knowing nonself” intellectually and “actually not operating around a self” pre-reflectively are two different things. The former is propositional knowledge; the latter is a way of being that permeates the entire structure of personality and its immediate responses. Philosophical argument can effectively produce the former. Whether the latter follows is an independent question.

4. The incorporation of “innate self-grasping” and the questions it raises

The Madhyamaka tradition is aware of this difference in levels. The Gelug school, especially Tsongkhapa, responds by introducing a distinction between “innate self-grasping” and “acquired self-grasping.” Acquired self-grasping is an erroneous view gained by accepting philosophical or religious teachings, and philosophical analysis can break it. Innate self-grasping is an inborn tendency independent of philosophical study; infants and animals have it, and it is the deeper root of suffering.5 Madhyamaka maintains that both must be broken. Breaking innate self-grasping requires combining Madhyamaka view with meditation, so that through prolonged habituation (bhāvanā), right view deeply affects the pre-reflective level of the mental continuum.

This distinction points in the right direction in identifying the problem. This book questions not the distinction itself, but whether it solves the problem or merely gives it a new name.

What exactly is the active ingredient in “breaking innate self-grasping through habituation to the Madhyamaka view”? If it is calming and insight themselves, independent of the distinctive content of Madhyamaka view, any tradition capable of producing deep calming and insight—the early four establishments of mindfulness, Southern Buddhism's mindfulness of breathing, or even concentration and observation exercises in other traditions—would be equally effective. The necessity of Madhyamaka view would then be in question. If Madhyamaka view is the indispensable active ingredient, a specific mechanism must be explained: how does right view at the reflective level change automatic operations at the pre-reflective level? The Gelug name for the mechanism is clear: repeated habituation and conditioning through right view gradually penetrate the deeper layers of the mental continuum. But the psychological mechanism of “changing the pre-reflective level from the reflective level above it” may not hold in actual operation. Extensive experience shows that people can hold reflective beliefs for years that conflict with their automatic pre-reflective patterns while those patterns persist stubbornly. This is more than a problem of willpower. It is the structural fact of functional independence between the two levels described in the preceding section.

The tradition itself long ago recorded that “a residue remains after cognitive eradication,” and named it. Śrāvakas exhaust the afflictions, yet habitual tendencies (vāsanā) remain. The Dazhidu lun gives Pilinḍavatsa as an example. This venerable had exhausted the influxes years earlier, yet still blurted out “little maid” when addressing the goddess of the Ganges. The affliction of conceit had been cut off, but its habitual tendency still operated in verbal action.6 Mahāyāna systematizes this residue through the distinction between the two obstructions. The śrāvaka path can abandon the afflictive obstruction; the cognitive obstruction—which Gelug Prāsaṅgika tenets explicitly explain as the habitual tendencies of grasping at true existence and the distortion of dualistic appearances—is exhausted only at Buddhahood, requiring countless eons of bodhisattva conduct to clear away. This doctrinal construction amounts to an internal acknowledgment: something remains that direct realization cannot uproot directly and that only an immensely long course of conduct and habituation can wear away. The tradition's solution is to defer this residue to three great incalculable eons. This chapter merely moves the question one step earlier: if a level that even direct realization on the path of seeing cannot dislodge must be dealt with through billions of eons of “conduct,” was the mechanism's center of gravity misplaced in “seeing” from the outset?

A question of fairness must be answered here. The baseline's own sequence of mechanisms—contemplation, weakening of craving, cessation of suffering—is equally coarse in its detail. Why demand an explanation of mechanism from Madhyamaka alone? There are two answers. First, the degree of detail is not the issue; the level of operation is. The baseline's tool is the attention of mindfulness practice, working directly on the stream of experience, the pre-reflective level itself. Madhyamaka's tool is reasoning by reductio, working on propositions and judgments, the reflective level. An account of the passage “from the reflective to the pre-reflective level” is demanded from Madhyamaka because its tool and its target lie a level apart. The baseline's do not, so it does not owe the same explanation. Second, the weight is distributed asymmetrically. The baseline shares the work of liberation across the chain of the three trainings, never claiming that one component bears it alone. Madhyamaka explicitly puts the whole weight on one component, “seeing” (Part I, Chapter 1). Whoever concentrates the load at one point incurs the duty to explain its mechanism. This asymmetrical questioning results from each side's own claims, not this volume's partiality.

5. Three tests: infants, animals, and people who have lost reflective capacity

The following three cases put these questions in their sharpest form.

First, infants. An infant a few months old has no post-reflective self-grasping: it lacks the capacity for philosophical reflection and cannot form a philosophical judgment that “a self exists.” Under the distinction between the innate and the conceptually constructed, it has only innate self-grasping. Yet infants clearly have a pre-reflective sense of self, strong responses seeking pleasure and avoiding pain, and suffering—hunger, pain, and discomfort from heat and cold. If the path to breaking innate self-grasping depends entirely on philosophical reflection—first hearing and reflecting on the right view of emptiness, then habituating oneself to it—how this path can work for a being incapable of reflection needs to be explained.

Second, animals. Insects and animals in general have no post-reflective self-grasping, yet clearly have a pre-reflective sense of self. Their automatic patterns of seeking benefit and avoiding harm show some “relation to me” at work. They inhabit an experiential stream of suffering. This case shows more simply that the existence and operation of a pre-reflective sense of self do not depend on the existence of post-reflective self-grasping.

Third, people who have lost conceptual reflective capacity through brain injury. Certain injuries, such as severe frontal-lobe damage, deprive patients of higher conceptual reflection: they cannot reason philosophically, form conceptual judgments about “what I am,” or learn Madhyamaka doctrine. Yet their pre-reflective sense of self does not thereby disappear, nor does suffering cease. Some injuries instead reduce the ability to regulate distress. This case is especially forceful. It concerns “neurologically lacking the capacity to form post-reflective self-grasping,” not “never having studied Madhyamaka philosophy.” Both the pre-reflective sense of self and suffering remain.

The three cases jointly show that the existence of a pre-reflective sense of self does not depend on the existence of post-reflective self-grasping. Breaking the latter therefore does not logically guarantee dissolving the former. Madhyamaka arguments attack self-grasping at the post-reflective level, while suffering arises at least partly, and perhaps fundamentally, from the pre-reflective sense of self and tendency to appropriate. Destroying the former level does not amount to loosening the latter.

Two levels of self-grasping: which level does reductio strike?

The animal example says that, without philosophical beliefs, it continues to seek benefit and avoid harm as usual. The third example is specifically a person who has lost conceptual reflection through brain injury while the pre-reflective sense of self and suffering remain. The English wheelchair illustration does not extend this claim to wheelchair users generally; the Chinese figure depicts a person lying in bed and explicitly names brain injury.

6. Two possible Madhyamaka responses and their costs

Faced with these three cases, the Madhyamaka tradition can respond in two directions.

The first is to acknowledge that Madhyamaka soteriology applies only to people capable of reflection. The suffering of infants, animals, and those who have lost reflective capacity is addressed otherwise—for example, by compassionately dedicating merit to them. The cost is an explicit admission that Madhyamaka soteriology is not universal: it is a path designed for people capable of philosophical reflection, while suffering's deeper root, the pre-reflective sense of self, is not directly addressed within its framework.

The second is to introduce explanations such as seeds from beginningless habituation and habitual tendencies (vāsanā), treating infants' and animals' pre-reflective sense of self as the continuation of conditioning from past lives, and thereby incorporating it into the framework of rebirth, karma, and practice. This approach incurs an explanatory debt: habitual tendencies need somewhere to reside. The readiest support is the storehouse consciousness (ālaya-vijñāna). Yet Prāsaṅgika Madhyamaka, in Candrakīrti, explicitly refuses it ontological status, regarding it as an unnecessary addition to conventional truth. Introducing it to explain a pre-reflective sense of self is an unwelcome addition from the Prāsaṅgika perspective. The account of this cost must be recalibrated in light of Chapter 3 of Essay 19 in Volume 1, Part II. That chapter judges the synthesis pursued by Śāntarakṣita and Kamalaśīla formally compliant: the scope clause does not prescribe which theory must occupy the level of designation, requiring only that assertions at that level carry no pledge of real existence. A theory of consciousness installed as a conventional theory does not violate the rules. There is just one boundary: if the self-cognition aspect is established only conventionally, all is well; if someone establishes it as something that does not break apart under analysis and does not depend on another dharma, that proposition enters the scope of application. The cost, then, is not contradiction with its own position, but the self-imposed preference for economy in Candrakīrti's lineage, and whether seeds and storehouse consciousness can retain their status as designations. Madhyamaka has other alternatives: the nonperishing dharma (avipraṇāśa), presented in Chapter 17 of the Mūlamadhyamakakārikā through the simile of karma being preserved like a debt bond, and the account in Candrakīrti's lineage that locates karmic results in a merely nominal designation of continuity. Neither appeals to storehouse consciousness. But Nāgārjuna presents the former without settling it, while the latter puts all explanatory weight on the conventional designation “continuity.” Each incurs costs of its own. There are options, but no cost-free option.

7. The limits of the critique

This chapter's criticism has definite limits. First, it does not say philosophical understanding has no value: mistaken views do reinforce harmful patterns, and correct views do help establish different tendencies of response. The question is how much philosophical understanding can accomplish, not whether it is useful. Second, it does not say the Madhyamaka tradition neglected meditation. The historical conjunction of Madhyamaka and meditative practice is real. The question is whether Madhyamaka's own theoretical framework explains the mechanism that makes this conjunction effective. Third, it presupposes no shortcut to liberation that bypasses all cognitive change. It merely points out that the bridge between cognitive change and change in pre-reflective patterns requires a more specific account of mechanism than Madhyamaka texts provide.

The conclusion is narrow in scope but carries great weight. Madhyamaka specifies ignorance more precisely as the view of intrinsic existence, a philosophical achievement. Yet that view resides at the reflective level, while the craving and appropriation diagnosed by the baseline operate pre-reflectively. In becoming more precise, the diagnosis also moves away from the level where suffering actually works. This mismatch is the root of all the criticisms of mechanism in the chapters that follow. After the relocation of suffering examined in the previous chapter, this is the second test that Madhyamaka soteriology's epistemological optimism (Part I, Chapter 1) must pass.

References

References

  1. How the tradition itself reasons from the view of emptiness to liberation can be sorted, on the primary texts, into four forms, and all four start from the same place: the uppermost source of suffering is a view (identity view, grasping at true existence) or conceptual construction. First, cutting the root: trace the causal chain to its uppermost link. Mūlamadhyamakakārikā 18.5 reads “liberation is so called because karma and afflictions cease”; Qingmu's (Piṅgala's) commentary fills in the chain: “These afflictions and karma all arise from conceptual construction and are unreal; conceptual constructions all arise from proliferation. When one attains the ultimately empty true character of dharmas, proliferation ceases” (T30, no. 1564, p. 23c19 and p. 24c06 ff.). The Ratnāvalī, in Paramārtha's Chinese version, argues from seed and sprout: “Self-grasping arises from the aggregates, and self-grasping is empty in reality; if the seed is not real, how can the sprout be real? If one sees the aggregates as unreal, the view of self does not arise; when the view of self is exhausted, the aggregates do not arise again,” and “because there is the view of self, karma and existence continue” (T32, no. 1656, p. 493b05 ff.). Āryadeva's Catuḥśataka 6.10–11 says that confusion resides in all afflictions as the tactile faculty resides in the body, so that when confusion is conquered all afflictions are conquered, and that were dependent origination understood, confusion would not occur (Karen Lang, Āryadeva's Catuḥśataka, Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag, 1986, p. 67). Candrakīrti places this link in identity view and adds a step about its object: “Seeing with wisdom that all afflictions and faults arise from identity view, and knowing that the self is its object, the yogin first refutes the self”; his autocommentary: “One who wishes to abandon all afflictions and faults should abandon identity view alone; and it is abandoned only by realizing selflessness” (Madhyamakāvatāra 6.120, Fazun's Chinese translation of the root verses and autocommentary, p. 130); 6.117 sums it up: “Ordinary beings are bound by conceptual construction; to end conceptual construction is liberation” (p. 129). Second, opposition: the wisdom that realizes selflessness and the grasping at self take opposite modes of apprehension toward the same object and cannot coexist, so habituation to the former abandons the latter; for Tsongkhapa see the Great Treatise passage cited in section 4 of this chapter. Śāntideva says the same thing in terms of antidote: “Emptiness is the antidote to the afflictive and cognitive obscurations,” and “grasping at the real produces suffering, so one should fear it; realizing emptiness stills suffering, so why fear emptiness?” (Bodhicaryāvatāra, chapter 9, Rushi's Chinese translation, vv. 54–55, p. 167). Third, no object: analysis that finds nothing at all leaves conceptual construction nowhere to land, and it subsides of itself. Śāntideva: “When neither the real nor the unreal remains before the mind, then, with no other mode and without an object, it is utterly at peace” (same chapter, v. 34, p. 163). Kamalaśīla's third Bhāvanākrama is the most explicit. The non-recollection and non-attention spoken of in scripture must be preceded by correct analysis (bhūtapratyavekṣā); when the yogin, examining with correct wisdom, sees no dharma arisen ultimately in the three times, recollection and attention have nothing to work on, and he enters the non-conceptual knowledge in which all proliferation is stilled; thereby he penetrates emptiness and abandons the whole net of wrong views; hence without correct analysis right knowledge does not arise, nor is the afflictive obscuration abandoned (Giuseppe Tucci, Minor Buddhist Texts, Part III: Third Bhāvanākrama, Rome: IsMEO, 1971, p. 17). He also answers head-on how conceptual analysis can produce what is non-conceptual: analysis is conceptual by nature but is proper attention (yoniśomanasikāra), and non-conceptual knowledge arises from it; once that fire of knowledge arises, it burns the analysis, as fire kindled by rubbing two sticks burns the sticks. On the same page he adds that liberation comes from the exhaustion of afflictions, not of karma, since karma accumulated from beginningless time is endless and cannot be exhausted (ibid., p. 20). Fourth, the Chinese tradition identifies insight with liberation outright. Sengzhao: “The mysterious way lies in wondrous awakening; wondrous awakening lies in being identical with the real; being identical with the real, one regards existence and nonexistence equally; regarding them equally, self and other are not two” (Niepan wuming lun, T45, no. 1858, p. 159b20 ff.). Jizang, citing the Prajñāpāramitā and the Nirvāṇa Sūtra: “All that is dual is called having something to attain; what is not dual is called having nothing to attain. … Those who have something to attain have neither path nor fruit; those who have nothing to attain have path and fruit” (Dasheng xuanlun, fascicle 2, T45, no. 1853, p. 29a04 ff.). Huineng: “If one gives rise to the true contemplation of prajñā, in a single instant all deluded thoughts perish. If one recognizes one's own nature, with a single awakening one reaches the stage of buddhahood” (Platform Sūtra, T48, no. 2008, p. 351a03 ff.). The four forms differ in logical shape but share a starting point: the overall root of suffering is set as a view or a conceptual construction, which another cognition can overturn or replace. The step from view to transformation each supplies separately: Tsongkhapa supplies habituation, Kamalaśīla the simile of the fire sticks, Qingmu counts craving among the proliferations (“proliferation is of two kinds: the proliferation of craving and the proliferation of views,” T30, no. 1564, p. 25b02 ff.), and the Chinese tradition compresses cultivation into a single awakening. These supplements all lie outside the argument. In the tradition's own reasoning the target sits at the reflective level, which accords with this chapter's diagnosis. ↩

  2. Three sets of evidence and the criterion for distinguishing levels. First, identity view (sakkāyadiṭṭhi): a complete search of the four Nikāyas yields sixty-six occurrences—Dīgha 2, Majjhima 20, Saṃyutta 27, Aṅguttara 17. This is the view that identifies the five aggregates as self, belonging to a propositional level that can be stated and refuted. Second, the conceit “I am” (asmimāna), thirty-four occurrences—Dīgha 3, Majjhima 4, Saṃyutta 15, Aṅguttara 12—is the sense “I am,” which does not appear in propositional form. Third, latent tendency (anusaya), seventy-seven occurrences—Dīgha 1, Majjhima 7, Saṃyutta 41, Aṅguttara 28—is a potential tendency not yet manifest. The criterion for the levels is the order of abandonment: at the first fruit, identity view is abandoned, while conceit and latent tendencies remain. The most direct evidence is the Khemakasutta, Saṃyutta 22.89. The monk Khemaka says that he does not regard any of the five aggregates as “this is I” (ayamahamasmī ti na ca samanupassāmi), yet “I am” (asmī ti) remains, like the scent of a lotus belonging neither to the petals, the color, nor the stamens ("uppalassa vā padumassa vā puṇḍarīkassa vā gandho…'pattassa gandho'ti vā 'vaṇṇassa gandho'ti vā 'kiñjakkhassa gandho'ti vā"). The discourse also places three together in a single sentence: "yo ca pañcasu upādānakkhandhesu anusahagato asmīti māno, asmīti chando, asmīti anusayo". The stage it envisages is further advanced than the first fruit: it speaks of residual self-conceit in someone who has abandoned the five lower fetters ("kiñcāpi, āvuso, ariyasāvakassa pañcorambhāgiyāni saṃyojanāni pahīnāni bhavanti"). The pre-reflective psychological tendencies discussed in this section are precisely the latter two sets. The complete search used the root texts of the four Nikāyas in the VRI Roman-script edition, obtained on 2026-09-02 and counted again on 2026-09-13. It counts occurrences of the stems sakkāyadiṭṭh, asmimān, and anusay without regard to case. ↩

  3. The Anattalakkhaṇa-sutta, SN 22.59: each of the five aggregates is observed as “This is not mine; this is not I; this is not my self” (n'etaṃ mama, n'eso'ham asmi, na m'eso attā). For the scriptural basis of the four establishments of mindfulness, see the Mahāsatipaṭṭhāna-sutta, DN 22, and the Satipaṭṭhāna-sutta, MN 10. ↩

  4. For a classic account of the relative independence of the neural mechanisms of emotional responses and higher cognition, see Joseph LeDoux. The Emotional Brain: The Mysterious Underpinnings of Emotional Life. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996. LeDoux later revised his own account, but what he revised was the terminology, not the two channels themselves. In Chapter 2, “Rethinking the Emotional Brain,” of Anxious: Using the Brain to Understand and Treat Fear and Anxiety (New York: Viking, 2015; the edition used is the Penguin ebook, without printed page numbers, cited by chapter), he writes, "While I still adhere to the same basic idea about the two channels of threat processing, I no longer refer to this group of circuits as a 'fear system.'" He also says, "In retrospect, I now believe that it was a mistake to use the expression 'fear system' to describe the role of the amygdala in detecting and responding to threats". The change of name addresses the misunderstanding that calling the amygdala a “fear system” encourages: that the feeling of fear comes from the amygdala. His own account treats the amygdala as a nonconscious processor and the feeling of fear as a product of neocortical cognitive systems. He also records introducing the terms "survival circuit" and "global organismic state" to replace the older account in his 2012 Neuron article “Rethinking the Emotional Brain.” He thus retains the basic two-channel conception. This chapter draws only on its weakest claim: cognitive appraisal and emotional responses can be separated, and the latter do not automatically update with the former. That claim is not among his revisions. This is a conceptual point of reference, not a claim of historical influence. ↩

  5. On the distinction between innate self-grasping (sahaja-ātmagrāha) and acquired self-grasping (parikalpita-ātmagrāha, also translated as conceptually constructed self-grasping), and the course of “breaking innate grasping by habituation to right view,” see the vipaśyanā chapter of Tsongkhapa's Great Treatise on the Stages of the Path to Awakening, fascicle 20 of Fazun's translation. The chapter distinguishes identity view from grasping at a personal self, saying that what is to be abandoned is not the self taken as object, but the mode of grasping: “Only identity view is to be abandoned; it can be abandoned by realizing that the self lacks intrinsic nature … It is abandoned because the modes of apprehension are opposed; hence it is opposed to grasping cognition.” ↩

  6. On Pilinḍavatsa addressing the goddess of the Ganges as “little maid,” and the Buddha judging this to be a habitual tendency of conceit rather than the affliction of conceit, see the Dazhidu lun, fascicle 2 (T no. 1509). The distinction between afflictive and cognitive obstructions took definite form in Yogācāra treatises. Gelug Prāsaṅgika tenets classify grasping at true existence and its seeds as the afflictive obstruction, and its habitual tendencies and the distortion of dualistic appearances as the cognitive obstruction. Śrāvaka arhats abandon the former but not the latter. See Tsongkhapa's Illumination of the Thought: Commentary on the Madhyamakāvatāra, Fazun's translation, fascicle 7, “Explanation of the Sixth, Ultimate Bodhicitta, Part Four,” p. 158: “Although some followers of the two vehicles temporarily abandon the manifestation of the cognitive obstruction, none permanently abandons its seeds. This master accepts grasping at a self of dharmas as the afflictive obstruction, whose seeds are abandoned”; “But to purify the cognitive obstruction consisting of the habitual tendencies of distorted dualistic appearances, one cannot purify it without those assisting factors.” See also the Gelug tenet texts. ↩