Another of Confucius’ disciples, Xunzi (c. 300 BC–237 BC), attempted, by contrast, to reorganise Confucianism in its ancient form. Breaking with Mencius’ ‘naïve idealism’, he asserted that man’s nature was not a good one and that it ‘requires either a master or a model before it can be rectified’. Man’s humanity, he says, stems from an aptitude to ‘make social distinctions’. It is therefore up to society itself to give human aspirations their shape, to channel them and eradicate all that is essentially evil in them. Unfortunately for Xunzi, he had the misfortune of educating two students, Han Fei Zi and Li Si, who would go on to distinguish themselves as legalist theoreticians. As a result of this, he was rejected by orthodox Confucians, who refused to acknowledge him as one of their own.
When the power of the Zhou dynasty collapsed, anarchy gradually set in throughout the immense Chinese continent. In the absence of any and all central authority, the small principalities waged merciless war upon one another. Such was the ‘Warring States Period’, which came to an end in 221 BC, when China’s first emperor, Qin Shi Huang, imposed an absolute sort of authority upon the aristocracy and undertook to unify the country. Qin Shi Huang founded his capital in Xianyang, in the vicinity of today’s Xian (Shaanxi). Shortly afterwards, he used the criticism that scholars had targeted him with as a pretext to take up arms against the Confucians, with the support of the ‘legalists’, whom he had turned into his personal advisors. In 213 BC, he proceeded to outlaw Confucius’ works and burn the scholars’ books (a fact that would later arouse Mao Zedong’s admiration). He also unleashed his fury on people, arresting many of Master Kong’s partisans. 460 of them would be buried alive.
A compilation of anecdotes, sayings and statements classified into twenty sections, the famous Analects (‘Lun Yu’) were among the books that ended up being destroyed. Later, however, they were reconstituted using two different versions recovered during the Han reign.
The other classic Confucian works are five in number: the Yijing or ‘Book of Changes’; the Shujing or ‘Book of Documents’; the Shijing or ‘Book of Poetry’; the Liji or ‘Book of Rites’; and the Yue Jing or ‘Book of Music’,931 which is almost entirely lost to us. The oldest of these texts date back to around 1000 BC. Most were compiled and classified by Confucius himself.
The Yijing, which is well-known among esotericists, presents us with sixty-four hexagrams alongside some rather obscure comments. Dealing with the issue of the world’s origin and nature, as well as with the manner in which a wise man is to adapt his behaviour to them, it has been the object of numerous interpretations. Thanks to an entire system of numerical correspondences and speculations in which the five elements (water, fire, wood, metal and earth) play a fundamental role, the Shujing, which comprises the history of the ancient Chinese emperors, proposes its own philosophical view of the universe. The Shijing and the Liji are respectively a collection of 300 poems and a compilation of rites divided into three separate parts.
The Examination System
Qin Shi Huang dies in 210 BC, following a reign that had spanned across an eleven-year period. A rather dreary figure, his successor only manages to remain in power for four years. In 206 BC, a common man, Liu Bang, organises a rebellion that puts an end to the authoritarian Qin dynasty and, by the same token, founds his own — the Han dynasty.
Under this dynasty, which would last for four centuries, the Confucians return in full force. Their doctrine even becomes the formal basis of the Chinese Empire, remaining so until the year of 1911.
In harmony with his own political tactic, it was Chinese Emperor Wu (140 BC–87 BC) who first chose to favour Confucianism over both Taoism and Buddhism (which had begun to seep into Chinese society). In 142 BC, he established a school where pupils were taught the Confucian precepts. It thus became customary to select future officials from among the ranks of the well-read. The rise of the mandarinate would go hand in hand with the development of the ‘examination system’.
This system, which was not the sole prerogative of the aristocracy and practically granted the imperial bourgeoisie exclusive monopoly over state employment, soon acquired a tremendous sort of complexity. One thus invented fastidious questionnaires with the purpose of evaluating one’s knowledge and personality. Every year, officials were assessed in accordance with the four traditional qualities and the twenty-seven conventional ‘perfections’. As the centuries went by, the inevitable result was a stagnating system in which students would ‘cram’ their entire lives so as to memorise customary responses regarding not only philosophy and law, but also sacrifice, mathematics and writing skills. During that same period, various popular books proceeded to spread the image of the cruel, vain and incompetent mandarin among the people.
And yet, the Confucians recruited through examination were always subject to the duty of remonstrance, which they often carried out at the risk of their own lives. Etiemble writes:
Let us add here that under the pretext of espousing a Confucian line of thought, a mind as free and agile as that of Wang Chong, China’s own Voltaire or Lucien, proceeded to contradict the dogmas using a scepticism devoid of illusions, whereas Xu Shen, who authored the very first great Chinese dictionary, the Shuowen, thus preceding Bayle’s philosophical and critical dictionary by more than 1,500 years, undertook to expound in his Incompatibilities Between the Five Canons all the incoherences that could already be detected in the texts that had become sacred to Confucianism, a Confucianism which, as he was able to demonstrate in a most perceptive manner, could never constitute one single homogeneous doctrine.
Already in the 5th century AD, Confucian morality had lost a great deal of its initial flexibility, with a number of rites surrendering to stagnation and becoming a set of old-fashioned ceremonies. Any respect for the established order only served to benefit imperial officials. The doctrine itself had become an eclectic sort of system comprising various elements that had been borrowed from other beliefs and popular superstitions.
Such syncretism should not come as a surprise, for the notion of ‘school’, in the exclusive sense of the word, is foreign to the Chinese mentality, which, by contrast, is almost always inclined towards embracing synthesis. One can thus, for instance, come across a single household abiding by customs that have been borrowed from several different religions, pursuant to the following principle formulated by Marcel Granet: ‘Having a system of rites is necessary, and each rite can prove to be valuable’.
Furthermore, the equivocal character of certain formulae renders contradictory exegeses possible. Mr Daniel Leslie explains:
Almost every single verse in traditional Chinese is subject to several different translations. There are many reasons for this, but the main one lies in the absence of grammar in ancient Chinese, including conjugation, tenses, plurals, etc. While this results in great stylistic simplicity, terseness, and beauty, it also leads to great difficulty when it comes to grasping the meaning, leaving a lot of room for contradictory interpretations.
At the start of the 10th century AD, China lapses once again into a fragmentation period, one that would last around fifty years. It is the period of the ‘Five Dynasties’ (907 AD–959 AD).
Unity is then re-established by the Song dynasty. Threatened by the Barbarians in the North, its members seek refuge in the South from 1127 AD onwards.
That is when neo-Confucianism surfaces. Its leading and founding figure is Zhu Xi (1130 AD–1200 AD), the father of the doctrine of norms or doctrine of reason.
A Vast Empire from Venice to Seoul
During the 11th century AD, Zhou Dunyi (1017–1073) had already attempted to demonstrate that the Buddhist notion of the infinite, or the ‘unlimited’ (Wújí), could be identified with the notion of the ‘great pole’ (Taiji) that the Confucians defined as an absolute in their system. It was a perilous undertaking, for it was tantamount to associating two very different doctrines — Buddhism, in which one is to kill one’s desire so as to free oneself from the world; and Con
fucianism, where one must temper their desire in order to integrate into the world.
In other words, the purpose was to turn ancient Chinese naturalism, defined as a doctrine of adjustment to the world (‘entry into the world’), into a philosophy compatible with the notion of illumination characterising Indian immanentism. And it is this very path that Zhu Xi chose to take.
Mr Etiemble writes:
Just as Saint Thomas longed to reconcile Christian sensibility with Aristotelian thought, and Jewish messianism with Hellenic thought, Zhu Xi strived to reconcile a Buddhist absolute, the Li, with both Confucius’ and Mencius’ moral tradition.
In parallel to this, Zhu Xi replaced the great Confucian classics with thirteen official books and commentaries. The latter constituted henceforth the very substance of official competitions, with neo-Confucianism becoming the new orthodoxy.
It is under this renovated form that Master Kong’s precepts were gradually disseminated across a major part of Asia. In Vietnam, following the second Chinese invasion (1405 AD–1427 AD), the studying of the books even became compulsory. Neo-Confucianism permeated Korea as well, especially during the reign of Sejong the Great, who, in 1401 AD, drove the bonzes out of his court and secularised part of the Buddhist church’s possessions. Last but not least, neo-Confucianism seeped into Japan towards the end of the 15th century AD, developing there through the presence of several sects.
Beginning in the 13th century, China integrates into a vast global empire spreading from Venice to Seoul. The silk road is inaugurated under the Pax Mongolica. The yellow continent opens up to foreign influence, as Marco Polo marvels at everything that the Far East has to offer.
In France, a book on Master Kong is published in 1641. In his dialogues, Fénelon932 pens a conversation between Socrates and Confucius.
During the 17th and 18th centuries, the Jesuits settle in China. The moral principles of the scholars are a source of surprise to them. Some venture as far as to claim that the Confucian Sky (Tiān) is analogous to the God of the Christians. After some lengthy debates (the famous ‘Chinese Rites Controversy’), these propositions are condemned by Rome. The controversy leads to a temporary abolition of the Order of the Jesuits by the Pope himself, an abolition that would last approximately half a century.
Just like the Jesuits, Bayle, Leibniz, Voltaire, and the encyclopaedists declare themselves fascinated by Confucianism. They praise its practical character, tolerant spirit, benevolence and agnosticism, which they contrast with their own era’s absolutism. Voltaire, whose Age of Louis XIV ends with a chapter on the Chinese Rites Controversy, writes two ironic and henceforth famous lines on Master Kong:
He only spoke as a wise man, never as a prophet
Yet everyone believed him, even in his own land.
After 1840, in the aftermath of the Opium Wars, the European pressure resulting from the great industrial and scientific revolution becomes extremely noticeable. Unable to respond to it, China proceeds to withdraw into itself.
At the dawn of the 20th century, the revolution of 1911 triggers the fall of the Manchu dynasty and the advent of the republic. The examination system is then abolished.
The socialist and liberal opinions, however, are different. Whereas the liberal philosopher Hu Shih attacks Confucianism with great virulence, Sun Yat-sen, the founder of the Chinese Republic, openly espouses its canonical principles. To the three powers it borrows from the West (the legislative, executive and judicial power), his Constitutional Project adds two more, with a corresponding Control Council and Examination Council. In 1915, Confucianism almost succeeds in reclaiming its position of state religion.
Certain communist intellectuals perceive Confucianism as a means to combat the Taoist ideal of non-action and contemplation, while others condemn Confucius’ personal and ‘petty bourgeois’ morality, contrasting it with Lao Tzu’s disinterested aspirations.
This is what Chen Duxiu, the future co-founder of the Chinese Communist Party, wrote in the highly influential New Youth magazine back in 1919:
The task to be accomplished by the new generation is that of fighting against Confucianism, the ancient tradition of virtues and rites.
In the eyes of the Kuomintang, by contrast, Master Kong comes across as a precursor of liberal democracy. Having taken control of the Kuomintang in 1925, Chiang Kai-shek launches his New Life Movement (Xīn Shēnghuó yùndòng), which combines Confucianism with humanitarian socialism and comprises a few Christian ideas, as well as some formulas borrowed from Mo-Tzu.
Maoism and Confucianism
No sooner had he seized power in 1949 than Mao Zedong declared his intention to wage a relentless battle against Confucian principles. This is what he told Robert Payne:933 ‘I have hated Confucius since the age of eight’. He alluded to various personal memories — his mother was a Buddhist, his father a Confucian.
And yet, this is what he had previously proclaimed, in an interview conducted in 1936:
The history of our great people has, for thousands of years, been characterised by national particularities… Today’s China is a development of the historical one. We must turn ourselves into the heirs of all that is precious in our past, from Confucius to Sun Yat-sen.
In his book on The People’s Democratic Dictatorship (1949), it was through his use of a Confucian term that he defined communism as the ‘great harmony’ (Ta Tung).
In 1956, he would also publish a poem entitled Swimming, which ends with the following words:
It was by a stream that the Master said,
“Thus do things flow away!”
And this is what one reads in Analects IX, 16:
The Master, standing by a stream, said,
“Everything flows like this, never ceasing, day or night!”
According to the Soviets, ‘Mao Tse-tung, who had been strongly influenced by Confucianism in his youth, perceived Marxist theses through the deforming prism of Confucian thought. His philosophy stems from two sources: the traditional Confucian ideology, whose dominant elements are feudal ethics and chauvinism; and, additionally, a variety of bourgeois doctrines, whether Chinese or European’ (M. Altaisky and V. Georgiev, The Philosophical Views of Mao Tse-tung: A Critical Analysis. Progress Publishers Moscow, 1971).
Former Chinese President Liu Shaoqi, who was eliminated during the Cultural Revolution, never attempted to conceal his admiration for Confucius. In his manual entitled How to Be a Good Communist, he even adopted one of Mencius’s formulas. This is what he wrote:
There are some who claim that the geniuses of the Revolution, namely Marx, Engels, Lenin and Stalin, cannot be equalled; but they can indeed, for Mencius has written that anyone can become Yao and Shun. (This is an allusion to the two sage-rulers of the golden legend.)
Writer Kuo Mo-Jo, the very archetype of the old and well-read Chinese man that has joined the communist regime, also belongs to those who have been inclined to interpret Marxism using Confucian terminology. In 1945, he presented Master Kong as the ‘champion of little people’s rights’ (in 1966, however, during the Cultural Revolution, he would be compelled to embrace self-criticism).
In 1957, the campaign did seem to slacken. During a reception held in Beijing, Etiemble, the author who had greatly contributed to defending Confucius’ thought against the distorting interpretations to which it was subjected, was surprised to see people make a toast in honour of the philosopher.
Mr Alain Peyrefitte, whose trip to China also took place in a period of calm, gained the impression of a return to Chinese eternal values. He writes:
The golden mean is the answer. Although the developments of the Chinese revolution do often give an impression of excess, it is a middle path that ends up prevailing once the excesses have spontaneously discredited themselves. One thus finds oneself halfway between anarchist Leftism and conservative Rightism, between utopia and routine, and between challenging the world and renouncing one’s global ambitions.
In China, the periods of struggle against Conf
ucianism have, in fact, always coincided with periods of hard-line political attitudes that went hand in hand with an ‘ultra-Leftist’ attempt at a strong comeback. This is precisely what happened in 1974, when Maoist radicals labelled the Confucian undertaking ‘a restoration of the ancient ruling class’ (Fu Pi) and an attempt ‘to get the former nobles that have been reduced to commoner status back on their feet’ (Chu Yimin). The purpose was to prevent some former leaders of the Chinese Communist Party, ‘purged’ during the Cultural Revolution, from making a comeback to public life (the denunciation of Confucius was linked to the creation of a Shanghai newspaper controlled by the radicals, the Hsüeh-Hsi Yü P’i-P’an).
Furthermore, Mr Jean Daubier, who authored a book on the Cultural Revolution, asserts that ‘Lin Biao’s theory of the genius (i.e. the Chinese version of the man of providence); the doctrinal and moralising simplism which he advocated; the encouragement given to decentralisation; and the prominence of the military seemed to bestow upon the new regime many aspects of the previous one. The campaign against Confucius thus responded to the necessity to destroy the old cultural environment from which “Lin-Biaoism” had stemmed’.
Faced with his obligation to abolish natural hierarchies that experienced ceaseless rebirth, Mao Zedong could only mistrust a doctrine which, historically speaking, had served as the imperial regime’s philosophical and moral basis. He could not allow the Chinese, who all share certain mental affinities, to unite under any other principles but those defined by the state itself. He equally mistrusted the old ‘censorship’ tradition exercised by generations of cultivated people towards the ‘prince’. And last but not least, he was well aware of the fact that the creation of a ‘new man’ entirely devoted to the community required not only radical upheaval but also the Revolution’s permanent reevaluation at the hands of the revolutionaries themselves, both within the institutions and within the Party.
Controversies and Viewpoints Page 40