The present book by Aruna Gamage is one of the most important contributions to the field of Theravāda studies in this decade. After exploring and mining the vast literature of Pali commentaries and sub-commentaries, the author offers a clear and informative picture of how the scholastic authority of this school was constructed. Importantly, Gamage highlights the fact that Mahāvihāra Buddhism was one among competing schools of interpretation within the Theriya lineage. This is often overlooked, and his book will surely become an indispensable reference for any discussion of the intricacies through which what we call Theravāda was constituted as a doctrine. After a general introduction, Chapter 1 analyses Buddhaghosa’s perspective on the four sources of authority. This chapter is particularly noteworthy as it clearly shows how the ideal hierarchy of authority is de facto reversed in commentarial practice. Chapter 2 is equally fascinating, as it discusses the traditions of peripheral and apocryphal texts that found their way into the classical Pali commentaries. Chapter 3 examines how Buddhaghosa edited (in contemporary science we would say “cooked”) his sources. This chapter is not without its problems, as I will illustrate below. Chapter 4 presents one of the major debates recorded in Theravāda literature, namely the clash with the Vitaṇḍavādins (i.e. those who argue with sophistries). This section focuses on soteriological issues that were always central. The book ends with a short conclusion.

One of the virtues of Gamage’s book is his attempt to assess critically Buddhaghosa’s strategies as a champion of Theravāda orthodoxy. In some cases, however, I am not sure I agree with his evaluations. For example, on p. 81 there is a section titled “Logical fallacies” (§1.8). In it, the author states that “quoting canonical statements in contexts different from their original ones is a common feature of Buddhaghosa’s commentarial practice”. Footnote 131 illustrates this with Buddhaghosa’s classification of the Buddha’s teaching as twofold: “by way of censure” (niggahamukhena) or “by way of assistance” (anuggahamukhena). The first method, Gamage explains, is used for disciples who overestimate their abilities; the second for those who are honest and willing to learn. Therefore, I do not think it is contradictory that Buddhaghosa considers Elder Tissa to belong to the second group. Surely Tissa is not a saint, but he acknowledges his shortcomings: “The teachings are no longer clear to me”, etc. (dhammā pi maṃ na paṭibhanti …), and is willing to learn (see S III 106,₁₀). Similarly, in the same section, Gamage claims that Buddhaghosa employs the fallacy of post hoc ergo propter hoc. The only example given, in footnote 135, is not an instance of this fallacy. The monk’s argument is merely that the study of the Vinaya is required for understanding the authority of the Abhidhamma. The argument may or may not be convincing, but Buddhaghosa’s logic does not involve the post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy.

On p. 202, kāye vahante nisīditvā sajjhāyaṃ karonti is translated as “When the group [of monks] is at work [they] sat down [and] studied”. There is no further commentary on this passage in the Pali. In my view, the verb √vah here means “to endure”, and the sentence, with a locative absolute, means “as long as [their] body endured, they sat down and studied”. Similarly, in the next line, avahante, with the implied kāye, does not mean “when [the group of monks] is not at work”, but rather “when the body could no longer endure”, namely the rehearsal (sajjhāya), i.e. the practice of repeatedly reciting what was known by memory. Again, at the end of the passage, the expression pariyattiṃ sammasanti is rendered “they mastered the scriptural study”. This is certainly one possible meaning of sammasati, but in this context I am not convinced it fits. The idea seems to be that this select group of monks departed for twelve years, fleeing a famine, and kept the textual tradition alive by retaining it in their memories. They ate very modest food (as the passage clearly indicates), but they made great effort – as long as their bodies endured – to keep rehearsing (sajjhāyaṃ karonti) the texts they knew by heart. This is how the Three Baskets were preserved. But when they became exhausted, they gathered and reflected on the texts. That is to say, they discussed their meaning: it was an aṭṭhakathā, a “discussion of meaning”. The implication is that memorization requires greater physical effort, and when the body can no longer sustain it, it is time for group discussion to clarify the meaning – and perhaps the wording – of what has been memorized. The next sentences confirm this, as Gamage himself translates: “In this manner, for twelve years, [they] preserved the Three Baskets together with the expositions of meaning in full”. Incidentally, I am not sure why words such as “they” are enclosed in square brackets when they are already explicit in the verb: dhārayiṃsu means “they preserved”, not simply “preserved”. The same convention appears elsewhere, and its rationale is not entirely clear to me, though such formal matters are, I think, secondary and do not affect the value of the book.

The study of Pali commentaries has gained new momentum in recent years, and there is no doubt that Aruna Gamage is one of the leading scholars in the field. His work is therefore highly valuable to those wishing to navigate the turbulent waters of medieval debates, controversies, schools, and authors. This is the period that actually defines the Mahāvihāra doctrine – or doctrines. Gamage’s monograph provides an excellent foundation for those who wish to pursue further research.