What The East Might Teach Us
Gavin Flood's The Tantric Body is a fairly dense academic text and not cheap, even if you can get it second hand, as I did, at a store like 
Treadwells. I am also 
not entirely convinced by Gavin Flood's almost obsessive thesis of the
'entextualisation' of Tantra in the body although, if accepted in 
perhaps a less intense form, he offers some deep insights into how the 
Tantric tradition relates spirit to matter. However, this is a 
five star text if only because of its value as corrective to the soft 
core 'namaste' tantric culture that has developed in the West as a form 
of partner guidance counselling for anxious middle class liberals who 
clearly have great personal difficulty either in escaping 
Judaeo-Christian habits of mind or in understanding the real spiritual 
use of transgression. This is as self-challenge rather than as palliative and as 
something for the detached individual rather than for the bonding 
couple.
Flood is not interested in later and sociologically 
all-too-convenient reinventions of Tantra. He sees Tantra as embedded in
 a particular time and place, in essence pre-modern South Asia, and as 
fundamentally 'traditionalist' requiring a particular accepted vision of
 being and of society against which to think and transgress. I 
believe that he is right and that it is absurd either to try to recreate
 this culture on Western soil where it can have no meaning without its 
traditional base, based on principles that are fundamentally 
conservative, or to pretend that liberalising it (to be acceptable to 
intellectually lazy thirty-something beautiful people in California and 
the East Coast cities of America) has anything to do with its real 
meaning. As I will argue, Tantra can have meaning in a Western context 
but that meaning cannot be one that refers to the ur-tradition because 
that tradition is simply not relevant to Western society today. There is
 no connection ...
What may not be so absurd is to study the 
fundamental philosophy underpinning tantric thought and reconstruct it 
as a radically transgressive alternative to Judaeo-Christian conventions
 and assumptions. This is a project for which this book, though 
definitely not the purpose of the author, would be admirably suited as 
starting point for analysis and ideas. The book is in two halves.
 The first explores the context for South Asian tantra - Flood's theory 
of entextualisation, the Vedic origins of tantric thinking about the 
body, the central core of tantric revelation and the nature of tantric 
civilisation. The second half then analyses the three key traditions of 
South Asian Tantra: the pancaratra, the saiva siddhanta and the 
esctatic: and it makes observations of great value on the forms as well 
as the substance of the tantric imagination.
It is the ecstatic 
or perhaps shamanistic approach to Tantra that is the most transgressive
 and, logically, the easiest basis for a Tantra that can exist outside 
of tradition, whether as the sexual form best known through Anand and 
Osho (and which has its virtues even if it bears less resemblance to its
 original form than it likes to believe) or as the basis for a future 
philosophical and transgressive adaptation that can be fitted to Western
 traditions without the odd desire of Americans to be 'good' about 
everything that they do. Tantra is interesting in part because it
 is a 'way of seeing' that can be adapted to different religious systems
 and cultures. There is tantric thought within Hinduism, Jainism and 
Buddhism and it has influenced Western neo-pagan and existentialist 
thought (the latter by a very circuitous route) so that there is no 
logical reason why it could not be adapted once again to a Western 
context despite Flood's vigorous defence of it as fixedly 
traditionalist.
The book is valuable to a Westerner who is not 
inclined to scholarship alone because it gets down to basics on what to 
be tantric means to someone coming from the ur-tradition and is thus an 
important corrective to later imposed meanings. Indeed, this book has 
determined me on being extremely resistant to any attempts, even by 
myself, to appropriate the tradition as tradition but rather, as 
suggested above, to investigate it (beyond the scholarly) as a 
psychological approach to the spiritual and to the relationship between 
mind and body in a way that can be reconfigured for new social and 
material challenges. What works for stratified royal low technology 
cultures would need to be totally rethought for near-egalitarian, 
democratic and internet-based cultures even as the core psychological 
and even ontological propositions underpinning tantra might be preserved
 almost whole. The enthusiasm of the 'namaste' brigade 
increasingly looks like an attempt to preserve the forms rather than the
 content of tantra in order to make transgression 'nice' when the lesson
 of Tantra is that, through technique, one learns to detach oneself and 
rise above inherited social obligation (dharma) in order to discover 
oneself and one's place without necessarily seeking to tear apart the 
fabric that keeps things together for the rest of humanity. It is not 
'nice' at all - what it is not either is socially disruptive.
There
 are complex paradoxes in tantric transgression that make it 
anti-revolutionary except in relationship to oneself and, so, very 
unlike the instinctive socially progressive impulse in the Western 
religions even if they degenerate too frequently into institutional 
sclerosis. Part of the paradox of Tantra as philosophy is that the 
internal radical revolution it may cause has no immediate revolutionary 
effects on social structures (the duty that is 'dharma') or economic 
relations yet, in changing minds and attitudes, it might well ensure, in
 a non-traditional society, that cultural sclerosis is impossible. A 
tantric revolution in culture, and so in society and perhaps economy, 
might come to be permanently creative in conditions where pre-modern 
kingship has been replaced by the constant changeability created by the 
internet.
Flood, of course, does not deal directly with any of 
these considerations but he does give due weight to the political 
dimensions of Tantra as socially embedded practice where the 
divinisation of the body is associated with the divine king's 
relationship to the land. These are ideas that recur independently 
whenever a monarchy seeks legitimacy - the idea of a body politic with 
the King at its head was a commonplace amongst seventeenth century 
European royalists and was implicit in the 'as above, so below' thinking
 of the Western esoteric tradition. The point is that an adept's 
apparent transgression is, in fact, an endorsement of dharma and of 
social order because it ritualises destructive or unconventional 
impulses, individualises them and places them in a pot in which 
transgressive activity is contained and not unleashed on society as a 
whole.
This is suggestive for the future of the West since the 
internet in particular permits, as never before, the democratisation of 
contained transgression under conditions of relative safety where it 
need not be disruptive of economic relations (capitalism) or of power 
relations (essentially, the self-reinforcing elites who really run 
capitalist democracies). Tantric thinking in the West can, therefore, be
 either a form of displacement activity wholly disconnected from a 
critique of social or economic power relations (which may be one reason 
why political progressives are so often irritated by new age 
individualism) or it can be harnessed into an ontology of power 
relations as a method of revolutionary potential that turns entirely on 
its head the conservative traditionalist assumptions of its South Asian 
origins.
This is, of course, highly speculative thinking on my 
part but in a West which is hard wired for struggle and where the elites
 are clearly no longer fit for purpose within a democratic tradition 
that is well past its sell-by date in its current form, a form of 
transgressive radicalism that operates to shift the Bell Curve of 
conformity (our modern 'dharma') towards radical individual liberation 
but not libertinism for its own sake might well be the legacy of 
tantrism in the West - if, that is, it can shake off its anodyne new age
 'namaste' acolytes and cease to be a substitute for individuation in 
favour of endless intellectual self-questioning and the clubbability of 
anxious educated liberals looking for 'meaning'. In short, true 
tantric liberation might well be liberation from Tantra itself and from 
the long shadow of that spiritual Mandela or is it physical Mandala, the
 Dalai Lama, and of Osho. If the search for meaning can shift to 
interconnected individuals uncovering it from themselves and away from a
 sub-culture of American small business interests flogging meaning by 
mail order, then something could really change in our culture.
One
 aspect of the tantric imagination that might strike a chord within a 
Western mind embedded in the massive flow of images available through 
the internet, through popular culture and through broadcast and other 
media, as well as in the breadth of contemporary art and literature, is 
the priority given to the imagination as an alternative reality that is 
more real than the given world of matter. It is a way of thinking
 that also exists ready-made in Western underground culture and in the 
culture of romantic art, especially that of the symbolists and 
surrealists. Tantra is visualisation - some of the 'notorious' sexual 
practices are as potent imagined as actually lived - and there are 
imaginings about the body (Flood's main theme) and about flows of energy 
through the 'chakras' as well as about the creative use of sounds and 
gestures made by the body that suggest an integration of body and mind 
very different from the Cartesian norm.
Merleau-Ponty is 
mentioned once by Flood and the emergence of his name seems apposite. 
The body is the mediator between world and consciousness and to think 
tantrically is as revolutionary as to think existentially in a world 
where socially constructed reality is as alienating as the early Marx 
suggested. Perhaps constructing a massive politico-religious movement 
like Communism was never going to be able to deal with alienation but 
anarcho-tantric thinking might if directed to radical social and 
economic revolution as a matter of existential choice rather than 
dharmic duty. Perhaps po-faced progressives might effect more change in 
the world if they were prepared to become a little more ecstatic and 
transgressive in their private lives.
But let us get back to the 
book. Do not be put off by the fact that Flood makes no concessions, 
takes no prisoners in his learning. Vedic and tantric culture within 
Vedic culture is as or more complex than the scholastic theology of the 
Christian West. There will be little context - no dimly remembered 
catechisms or histories of the reformation or philosophy 101s - to get 
the reader through some of these pages. If you are interested in tantric
 thought, I advise you to persevere, mark out what you do not know and 
return to such matters later. Treat it as a guide book to unknown 
territory and you will not go far wrong. By the end of it, you will 
either know that you have no interest in this tradition or that you will
 want to read more deeply. The text and the extensive notes represent a 
gold mine of further reading.
Where does Flood leave the debate? 
He writes that "... there are elements within the tantric body that have
 appeal in Western modernity but that have been distorted through their 
extirpation from their historical and textual locations. This appeal is 
inevitably linked to the critique of religion as the history of error 
and the professed dliberation of the individual from a straitjacket of 
conservative, Christian morality." He then adds, " ... the tantric body 
does contain resources that could arguably contribute to discourse in 
late modernity." Unfortunately, he goes little further than a 
weak reference to environmentalism and personal transformative concerns 
but the prospects for Tantra in the transformation of the West are not 
the subject of this book and nor should they have been. What Flood has 
done, if in a somewhat academic way, is open the doors of perception to 
possibilities and sources for possibility - and for this he should be 
thanked.
Flood emphasises text and tradition. He cannot see 
any easy transplant of South Asian (as opposed to Tibetan Buddhist) 
traditions. The hint to the future lies in a throwaway line that Tantra 
shows us 'a particular way of conceptualising the body distinct from 
either a Western dualism or materialism'. He contrasts this (rightly) as
 representing a tradition-based subjectivity that stands against Western
 individualism. His final message is deeply conservative - his last 
words refer to 'subjecting self and body to master and tradition'. Romantic
 though this is, I think he is wrong, not about historical Tantra (where
 he is wholly right) but about the anti-traditional potential of turning
 tantric transgressional modes and psychology against dualism but in a 
context of given materialism and individualism that is far from 
conservative. This neo-Tantra would, of course, not be Tantra at all, 
much as Christianity is not Judaism even as it inherited certain key 
ideas and prejudices from its spiritual forefather. 
Will this 
reconfiguring of perception take place in the West? Perhaps. The 
insights of tantric psychology have drifted into esoteric and radical 
spiritual thinking as well as into existentialist thought by the back 
door for two centuries in dribs and drabs. They may well come to fit in 
well with a world where there is no psychological or philosophical basis
 for authority (which would immediately make this alternative thinking 
suspect to Flood), where the phenomenological impulse has transformed 
our understanding of what we can know and what 'is', where psychology 
has been integrating rather than disintegrating mind and body at the 
expense of rationalism and where individualist modes are crying out for a
 methodology for thinking about ethical choices that can arise from 
within without the forced 'dharmic' paraphrenalia of Kantianism. The
 tantric mentality is undoubtedly socially dangerous in its potential 
(as some South Asian kings and their advisers knew themselves) and it is
 unlikely to appeal to more than a small minority of persons in the West
 but, if re-directed to new ends, its long term effects might be 
socially and culturally revolutionary. We'll see ... it has probably 
outstayed its welcome in its increasingly petit-bourgeois homeland.
The particular version of the Tao Te Ching is, in itself, unremarkable. It is a small book in a series of Sacred Texts published by Watkins and I regret that I cannot easily recommend it but it does inspire some thoughts on the East Asian aspects of learning from the 'East' to parallel those Flood triggers about South Asian thought processes. Let
 us deal with the original. Personally, I am highly sympathetic to 
Taoist (or Daoist) thinking, considering it generally true to the 
question of how we can find balance in our relations with the world and 
with an ethic that 'works'. The technique of these verses is to present 
the argument in poetic form as paradoxes for contemplation. Unfortunately,
 there comes a point when the paradoxical becomes the obscure and the 
repetitive - and it is at times like this that you need a deeper 
commentary that distinguishes carefully between what the text may have 
meant in its original context and what it should or could mean to us 
today. 
This suggests reading it in its social context of the 
Sixth Century BCE (much as Flood sets Tantra in its original historic context) or uncovering a personal meaning relevant to the 
Twenty-First Century AD (which I attempted to do above in reviewing the possible use of Flood's book) - but it is one hell of a task to give it a 
viable social or political meaning today without a lot of intellectual 
effort being applied. Unfortunately, the Commentary to this book does 
not reach the necessary standard. Dale's commentary, which starts
 well enough with a clarification of what he translates as the Great 
Integrity, descends into some necessary repetition (of course, because 
the original is repetitive), but also into an agenda that sustains a 
mythic narrative that just does not stand up to scrutiny. It 
offers one of those vague 'new age' political philosophies where what 
ought to be is construed as really under the surface of things now. 
Lovely and comforting perhaps but scarcely what Lao Tzu actually meant over two 
thousand years ago.
Discomfort starts with occasional references 
to Dale translating to fit the message for today. Well, that starts 
getting me nervous because I have to trust a translator. If his 
commentary has an agenda and he admits to one or two minor changes for 
relevance, then I start to get very distrustful, fairly or unfairly. In
 other words, this is a version of the text for the fluffy new age market and it is 
neither a scholarly book nor an attempt to investigate the text more 
carefully for any meaning that might be drawn out in the context of our 
own cultural development or in the light of the explorations of our most
 advanced thinkers - even in opposition to them. This is a shame 
because Lao Tzu has a great deal to teach us about the nature of 
Existence (Being) and our responses to it. A dialogue between it and 
Western existentialism (and post-existentialist) thinking remains 
fruitful. In a way, while not wishing to discourage Watkins' general 
mission to bring the esoteric and spiritual to the Western mainstream, 
the popularisation of such schools as Tao and Tantra for lightly worn 
'personal development' has its downside. 
It is not really fair 
to ask most people to have the rigour of the professional thinker or to 
challenge everything as a matter of course. The spiritual is a way of 
constructing oneself as meaningful and the arrival of Buddhist, 
Kabbalistic, Taoist, Tantric and Sufi modes (let alone, say, Wiccan) 
amongst the anxious is of vital importance - similar to the role of 
Mystery Religions in the late Roman Empire. It is a means of dealing 
with overwhelming social forces at a time of maximum personal 
insecurity. The spiritual is 'real' and to be respected. Those militant 
atheists and rationalists are arrogant and cruel in trying to undermine 
it. It can have an important social and personal purpose. However,
 there are levels of engagement. All these forces range from the popular
 (the equivalent to the worship of saints) to the highly scholastic 
(equivalent to Thomism) through to the ecstatic and spiritual (as in the
 experience of St. Theresa of Avila). They exist alongside each other, 
regardless of the functional role of a church or mission. 
It is 
reasonable to hope that texts will be offered to the public that are 
accurate in every detail and have their contents explained properly and 
in context, without pandering to a vaguely fashionable green and 
progressive ideology. This is a fairly common ideological trope in 
neo-pagan and esoteric popular literature - a sort of save the whales 
and stop climate change through a free love and drumming mentality. Do I 
jest?! This particular book is fine as an attractive equivalent to
 an icon but it is not one painted by a Master. If you do buy this for 
contemplation, the meat lies in the first verses. There is real value to
 be had in the way Lao Tzu faces existence head-on without flinching and
 draws from this experience an ethic of calm, balance and distanced 
compassion for oneself as for society. This should be as much part of 
any civilised person's education as the Four Gospels even if you
 end up believing in neither God nor the Way. I shall certainly be 
looking for another copy of the original text to hold in my Library for 
this reason.