Translation between languages is never a simple mechanical process of substituting words. This becomes especially true when translating ancient sacred texts like the Bhagavad-gita, where subtle word choices can profoundly shape religious understanding and practice. Small changes in translation can alter theological emphasis, shift the tone of philosophical critiques, and even change practical recommendations for spiritual life.
The Nature of Sanskrit Translation
Sanskrit presents unique translation challenges. Many Sanskrit words have no precise English equivalents. A single Sanskrit term might encompass concepts that English expresses through multiple distinct words. Conversely, subtle Sanskrit distinctions might seem to collapse into single English terms.
Additionally, Sanskrit religious texts operate within complex philosophical traditions. The same word might carry different connotations in different schools of thought. A translator must choose not just how to render the word, but how to position it within ongoing philosophical debates.
When A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada translated the Bhagavad-gita, he made thousands of translation choices. Some were straightforward, others involved interpretation. Later editors who revised his translations also made choices—sometimes different ones—with implications for how readers understand Krishna consciousness philosophy.
From “Impersonal” to “Impersonalist”
One of the most discussed translation changes involves the word “impersonal” and its variants. In discussing non-devotional approaches to spirituality, Prabhupada’s 1972 Bhagavad-gita often used “impersonal” as an adjective describing certain philosophical concepts. The revised edition frequently changed this to “impersonalist,” referring to people who hold such views.
Consider the difference:
1972: “The impersonal conception of the Absolute Truth is also condemned.”
1983: “The impersonalists’ conception of the Absolute Truth is also condemned.”
The first version critiques an idea. The second version critiques people. This subtle shift changes the text’s tone from philosophical analysis to ad hominem argument. Readers of different editions receive different impressions of how Gaudiya Vaishnavism relates to alternative philosophical schools.
Defenders of the change argue that Prabhupada often did criticize impersonalist philosophers, not just impersonal philosophy, and that the revision better reflects his actual position. Critics note that the original translation was Prabhupada’s own choice, and changing it alters the text’s rhetorical strategy in ways he might not have approved.
“Surrender” vs. “Submit”
The concept of sharanagati (approaching the Supreme for shelter/protection) appears frequently in the Gita. Translation options include “surrender,” “submit,” “take shelter,” and others. Each carries different cultural connotations.
“Surrender” implies yielding after resistance, perhaps with military overtones. “Submit” can suggest subordination or even unwilling compliance. “Take shelter” emphasizes protection rather than defeat.
Prabhupada used various terms in different contexts, but “surrender” appeared most frequently. This choice aligned with his presentation of bhakti-yoga as requiring complete dedication and ego dissolution. However, “surrender” can trigger resistance in Western audiences who value autonomy and independence.
Some later ISKCON materials have begun using “take shelter” more frequently, perhaps to make the philosophy more palatable. Whether this represents helpful contextualization or dilution of Prabhupada’s message depends on one’s perspective.
“Devotee” vs. “Devotee of the Lord”
In describing practitioners, translations must choose between simpler and more explicit language. Should bhakta be translated as “devotee” (shorter, cleaner) or “devotee of the Lord” (more specific, less ambiguous)?
Revisions sometimes added clarifying phrases where the original used simpler terms:
Original: “The devotee should not be disturbed.”
Revised: “The devotee of the Lord should not be disturbed.”
Proponents argue this prevents misunderstanding—the sentence clearly refers to devotees of Krishna, not just anyone devoted to anything. Critics suggest the addition is redundant and that repeated additions of “of the Lord” make the text more wooden and less literary.
Technical Terms: Transliteration vs. Translation
Should technical philosophical terms be translated into English or left in transliterated Sanskrit? Should dharma become “religion,” “duty,” “essential nature,” or remain “dharma”? Should karma be translated as “action,” “reaction,” or left as “karma”?
Prabhupada used a mixed approach. Some terms (karma, yoga, guru) he left in Sanskrit, reasoning they had entered English usage and translation would lose nuance. Others he translated, accepting some imprecision for clarity’s sake.
Revisions sometimes changed these decisions, translating terms Prabhupada left in Sanskrit or vice versa. Each change affects how accessible the text is to newcomers versus how precisely it communicates to those familiar with philosophical terminology.
Pronouns for the Divine
English requires choosing pronouns for God. Should Krishna be “He”? What about the impersonal Brahman concept—“It”? These grammatical necessities force translators to take philosophical positions.
Capitalizing divine pronouns (“He created this world”) emphasizes divinity but interrupts reading flow. Not capitalizing (“he created this world”) feels more natural but potentially disrespectful to believers. Prabhupada capitalized divine pronouns; later editors sometimes maintained this, sometimes didn’t, creating inconsistency.
Even more fraught is how to refer to the soul (atma). Is the soul “he,” “she,” “it,” or “they”? Prabhupada generally used “he” as a generic, following mid-20th-century English convention. Modern sensibilities find generic “he” exclusionary. But changing it requires rewriting entire sentences, potentially altering meaning.
Euphemism and Direct Language
Sacred texts sometimes discuss topics that make translators uncomfortable. How explicitly should sexual references be rendered? Should descriptions of bodily functions be euphemized?
The Bhagavad-gita is relatively restrained, but Prabhupada’s purports sometimes included blunt observations about bodily existence and material desire. Some revisions softened language that might offend readers, while others preserved Prabhupada’s direct, sometimes shocking, style.
Was Prabhupada’s bluntness essential to his message—a deliberate strategy to jolt readers out of complacency? Or were some phrasings unnecessarily crude, reflecting his era’s norms more than eternal philosophy? The answer shapes how editors approach revisions.
Readability vs. Literalness
All translators face tension between smooth readability and word-for-word accuracy. A highly literal translation preserves more of the original’s structure but reads awkwardly. A free translation flows beautifully but strays further from the source.
Prabhupada leaned toward readability, often restructuring sentences entirely rather than preserving Sanskrit word order. This made his translation accessible to English speakers without Sanskrit knowledge. Revisions sometimes made the text even more readable, or sometimes moved closer to literal rendering when editors felt accuracy had been sacrificed.
Neither approach is objectively correct. The question is: what serves the text’s purpose better? If the goal is introducing Westerners to Krishna consciousness, readability matters enormously. If the goal is precise transmission of Prabhupada’s understanding of the Sanskrit, literalness might matter more.
The Impact on Practice
These translation choices aren’t merely academic. They shape how practitioners understand their spiritual path:
- If God is always capitalized “He,” practitioners absorb that the Supreme is definitively personal, not impersonal
- If the text frequently uses “surrender” language, practitioners internalize that bhakti requires complete ego dissolution
- If impersonalists are consistently critiqued negatively, practitioners may view dialogue with other traditions as pointless
- If technical terms remain in Sanskrit, practitioners learn to think in Vaishnava philosophical categories
Translation decisions accumulate into worldviews. Practitioners reading different editions are subtly being formed into different types of devotees—perhaps more confrontational vs. more dialogical, more focused on devotional emotion vs. more interested in philosophical precision.
Who Decides?
The deepest question is authority. Who has the right to make these consequential decisions? Prabhupada made the original choices. The BBT editors made different ones, claiming to better represent Prabhupada’s intentions. Future editors may make still different choices.
Without Prabhupada available to consult, how can anyone definitively say what translation best captures his meaning? This question extends beyond word choice to the nature of textual transmission in religious traditions. Is the authorized version the founder’s actual output, or the version most faithful to what he supposedly intended?
Comparative Traditions
These questions are not unique to ISKCON. Biblical translation has generated enormous controversy—should translations use contemporary idiom or preserve archaic dignity? Should gender-neutral language replace masculine defaults? Christian communities split over such questions.
Buddhist translation faces similar issues. Should nirvana remain in Sanskrit or become “extinguishment”? Should dukkha be “suffering” or “unsatisfactoriness”? Each choice shapes how Westerners understand Buddhist teaching.
What may be distinctive about the ISKCON case is the relatively recent vintage of the original translation (1972), meaning many practitioners remember using it, and the revision happened after the translator’s death rather than under his supervision.
Conclusion
Words matter. Translation choices are not neutral technical decisions but consequential acts that shape religious communities. When “impersonal” becomes “impersonalist,” when terms are added or removed, when sentences are restructured, the text changes—and its readers change with it.
Different stakeholders have different priorities. Some emphasize accessibility to new audiences. Others prioritize faithfulness to Prabhupada’s original language. Still others focus on alignment with Sanskrit sources. These priorities can conflict, and resolution requires judgment calls about which values matter most.
What seems clear is that these decisions should be made consciously, with awareness of their implications, and ideally with community input rather than imposed by editorial fiat. The words practitioners encounter in sacred texts form their spiritual consciousness. Those words deserve careful stewardship.
