Welcome! I'm David Roman and this is my History of Mankind newsletter. If you've received it, then you either subscribed or someone kind and decent forwarded it to you.
If you fit into the latter camp and want to subscribe, then you can click on this little button below:
To check all previous newsletters in the History of Mankind, which is pretty long, you can click here.
Confucius, obviously a man blessed with a unique intellect, found particular success with his denunciations of impostors and manipulators of language.[1] His emphasis on rituals as something apparently unimportant that can be disturbed with terrible consequences for all concerned is related to that point: many of his scholarly predecessors had been experts on ritual matters, an issue of great importance in tribal societies but of declining relevance as technology and culture advance.
Confucius went further, turning rituals into a social philosophy, and the basis for social order. Kindheartedness/righteousness thus becomes mandatory for the expert on rituals, who must also be unselfish in his promotion of a ritualized society in which younger siblings obey the older[2], sons obey parents, parents obey officials, officials obey the ruler and the ruler must obey the cosmic rules of righteousness, systematizing the already existing concept of the “Mandate of Heaven,” a hugely influential expression in old and modern Chinese politics.
It’s not surprising that a key notion flows from this – and so, millennia before Immanuel Kant's categorical imperative, centuries before the Bible's admonition, Confucius espoused the well-known principle "do not do to others what you do not want done to yourself," the so-called Golden Rule.[3]
Another influential insight found in Confucius’ work is deeply connected with his fixation on ritual and social position, and refers to the nature of virtue. As he taught it, worthy people – those who carefully observed their duties and adhered to the restraints inherent to their station – acquire respect and status, and thus the grateful spirits cause him to prosper.
Such person is regarded as having “de,” typically translated as “virtue”: a word derived from “gratitude” or even “duty,” so that it represents a sort of small but positive claim on Heaven’s gratitude. The virtue of a person in a prestigious position is thus massively different from that of somebody poor or powerless and can be easily squandered by debts incurred with Heaven, through lack of restraint, arrogance or cruelty.
In keeping with his traditionalist approach, it’s not surprising that Confucius, like so many of his age and class, abhorred the idea of setting up laws and punishments in writing. In 513 BC, he criticized the state of Jin for casting a bronze tripod with such information, arguing that it would likely disrupt social hierarchies[4].
Confucius’ generation not only produced sages who would be influential for millennia, but new powers in Chinese politics; it was during this era that the Chinese borders effectively expanded eastwards all was the way to the Pacific Ocean shore, leading to the rise of Wu, south of Confucius’ Lu and including the rich Yangtze delta; and Yue, south of Wu and soon controlling the Pearl River delta where the city of Hong Kong would rise over two millennia later.
Wu secured independence from Chu soon after the death of King Zhuang of Chu, and immediately became a thorn on the larger kingdom’s side. Looking to shore up their position, Wu kings constantly intrigued against Chu, forming coalitions with minor states. Chinese historiography reports that Wu became a haven for Chu exiles, like the scholar Wu Zixu, who plotted to kill the existing Wu king and replace with him with his master, King Helu of Wu (r. 514-496 BC), a war-like character who appointed Sun Wu as advisor.
King Helu left Wu Zixu in charge of turning Suzhou – for centuries to come one of China’s main centers, just 100 kilometers west of modern Shanghai – into a great metropolis through massive public works. These include the construction of the first stretches of a canal looking to link China’s central plain, often blighted by drought, with the water-rich Yangtze region, a grandiose project for a Grand Canal that would only be completed in the Sixth Century AD.
King Helu campaigned against Chu with Sun Wu on his side. After five victories, Helu took over the Chu capital at Ying (modern Jingzhou, in the west of Hubei province) and famously failed to rape the widowed queen of Chu, who fought him off with a knife[5]. Wu’s invasion of Chu ultimately ended in defeat, after the troops of Qin intervened and helped Chu get rid of the invaders. But its legacy was extremely long-lasting and influential: to this day, Sun Wu remains a paramount figure in Chinese thought, and his “Art of War” is often quoted.
The book is stern, written by a stern man whose best-known anecdote involves the execution of two of his King's concubines, to ensure the obedience of the others: an early version of Voltaire's later quip “pour l'encouragement des autres.”[6]
However, Sun Wu is also practical and always at pains to make sure that no lives are wasted unnecessarily in the search for military glory; he belonged to one of the last generations of Chinese literate warriors – after the country’s unification in the Third Century BC, such general-writers, a Graeco-Roman staple from Xenophon to Caesar, became a rarity in Chinese history, to the point of essentially disappearing, as the career paths of court scholars and military enforcers radically diverged[7].
Sun Wu’s strand of practicality is connected to the School of "Minor-talks" (Xiaoshuojia) of the era, in which various thoughts originated from non-famous people on the street were discussed: in fact, Chinese kingdoms had government officials responsible for collecting ideas from non-famous people on the street and report them, a way both to conduct surveillance of potential rebellious subjects and of recognizing stray talent among the lower classes, a persistent interest of Chinese rulers. They always knew that, among what was largely an ethnically-homogenous population resulted from the expansion of “core” Han Chinese into areas occupied by ethnically-related peoples, it made no sense to expect more intelligence from the nobility than from the common men and middle classes from which the future Mandarin class would rise.
FROM THE ARCHIVES:
The Mandate of Heaven: How China Became Chinese
(This post is a sequel to this earlier post. To see all older posts in a list arranged by subject, click here) China’s great King Wu died young, possibly in 1043 BC, and the Zhou were in serious danger of losing control of the state. The possibility was averted by the successful intervention of Zhou Gong, also known as Duke of Zhou, a younger brother of…
Wu’s short but brilliant era of independence would end right after Sun Wu’s generation passed from the scene, by the intervention of that kingdom’s neighbor to the south, Yue.
Yue gained prominence through metal-working. Iron was still little used in China during this era, but Yue’s bronze swords became famous across the empire. Yue was also notorious for its barbarian customs, derived from a population that was, like much of Chu’s, only slowly adapting Chinese customs and language – Austroasiatic languages, related to modern Khmer and Vietnamese, remained common there until Chinese reunification in the Third Century BC.
Together with Wu’s, Yue’s sailors were the first Chinese to sail the Pacific Ocean with any regularity, and adopted the habit of naming their oared ships. Their unique skillset helped them overcome their main rival, Wu, which they eventually took over in a series of campaigns in the mid-Fifth Century BC.
After that, the city of Suzhou became the Yue capital and, more importantly, Chinese history itself entered a new era – the Spring and Autumn Annals covering the history of the period, traditionally believed to have been compiled by Confucius, end in the year 481 BC, and thus the Warring States Period, one dominated by all-out warfare lasting for two-and-a-half centuries, starts in China[8].
[1] In Europe, similar arguments have been presented but never carried that much weight. In her 2016 history of Rome since the Catiline conspiracy, “SPQR,” Mary Beard writes at the very start that 'we hear echoes of the frequent denunciation of so-called political correctness by today’s conservatives in comments made by Cato the Younger the year before Cicero’s speech, in 63 BC. “Long ago we lost the real names of things,” Cato warned. “Giving away other people’s money is called ‘generosity.’ Flagrant misbehavior is called ‘courage.’ We’ve reached the tipping point and it’s killing our country.”' Before then, as we'll see, Sophists also discussed the importance of naming things properly.
[2] The Chinese language has specific words for “older brother”, “younger sister”, “aunt from the mother's side”, etc. The whole sequence of hierarchic obedience recommended by Confucius is called “the five human relationships.” Chinese do love numbers and numbering things.
[3] Kant wrote "Act only in accordance with that maxim through which you can at the same time will that it become a universal law"; the New Testament, in Matthew 7:12, states: “Therefore whatever you desire for men to do to you, you shall also do to them; for this is the law and the prophets.” Russell Freedman, author of “Confucius – The Golden Rule,” translates the Chinese sage's words as "Do not impose on others what you do not wish for yourself." They are in the Analects, XV.24.
[4] Cit. Michael Loewe, in Cambridge History of Ancient China (1999)
[5] Chinese historians, always with a strong moralistic streak, report that Helu left in shame after she, knife in hand, remonstrated with him.
[6] This sentence is told by a character in Voltaire's Candide, when Candide observes the execution of a British admiral, based on the real-life execution of John Byng for cowardice before the enemy: the character explains that Britain finds it necessary to shoot an admiral from time to time "pour l'encouragement des autres" (to encourage the others).
[7] Graff (Op. Cit.) argues that the split between soldiers and historians during the imperial age resulted in sometimes less than ideal descriptions of military campaigns in Chinese historiography: “With little knowledge of or interest in the practical details of warfare – and with very few details provided by their sources in any case – these scholarly official historians were probably more comfortable borrowing elements of their own descriptions of military operations from models of the genre in earlier histories and recycling conventional literary expressions and allusions bearing on combat than trying to offer a precise and accurate reconstruction of the event. When they did choose to provide details, they usually preferred to focus on a clever stratagem or an unusual or colorful feature of the battle or campaign. The scholarly elite from which the official historians were drawn was not only unfamiliar with the practical details of military affairs, but was often actively hostile to warfare and the military.”
[8] The great Han Dynasty historian Sima Qian did keep in mind that Yue’s subjection of Wu was only completed years later, and considered 475 BC instead as the start of the new era, since that marked the appointment of the last “ba” recognized by all of the Zhou dukes. Meanwhile, King Fuchai, Wu’s last sovereign, hanged himself in 473 BC, surrounded by Yue’s forces.
🎺🎶…said the King of Wu to Sun Tzu, what are you doing with my favorite Hoo?🎶🎵
My favorite Sun Xu story, especially when people start throwing out the Fortune Cookie Snippets. If you recall, the ending was unfavorable to the giggling concubine.