Confucius
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Confucianism is considered to be more a socio-political philosophy than a religion, and Confucius himself famously did not speak of gods, the afterlife or anything supernatural. However, throughout history there have been those who have chosen to worship Confucius as a deity, specifically a god of learning or knowledge. As early as the second century BC, Han dynasty emperors offered animal sacrifices at the tomb of Confucius. By the fifth century AD, Confucius became the object of veneration in dedicated state Confucian temples throughout the country and many young scholars and their families prayed to him for academic success, particularly in the career-making civil service examinations. The Confucius Temple in Qufu, the town of his birth and death, was built on the site of Confucius’ home shortly after he died, and has become a place of pilgrimage for many of his followers for centuries. Confucian temples have also been established in Japan, Korea, Vietnam, Indonesia and Malaysia. In Hanoi, the Confucian temple known as Van Mieu, or Temple of Literature (built in AD 1070), housed statues of Confucius and his main disciples, to whom offerings were made, and Vietnam’s first university was established within its grounds.
Figures of Confucius, often depicted as a bearded teacher wearing courtly robes, seated and holding an official tablet, were sculpted out of stone and bronze and placed in temples as objects of worship. Similarly, devotional paintings, prints and rubbings of carved stone images of the Great Sage were produced and widely circulated. The most famous was that of Wu Daozi (680–740), a Tang dynasty artist, who created the iconic portrait of Confucius as an elderly scholar standing with his hands together as if teaching. Over the centuries more portraits of Confucius and his disciples were created to help promote his ideals and they were used widely in personal worship. By the eighteenth century, worship of Confucius was so pervasive that in 1715 Pope Clement XI considered it a threat to the spread of Christianity in China, and despite the efforts of Jesuit missionaries in China to convince him that Confucian rituals were civil rituals compatible with Christian beliefs, the Pope forbade Chinese Catholics to perform rites to honour Confucius or their own ancestors.
Today, a visitor to the Confucius Temple in Qufu will see hundreds of visitors lighting incense, praying to Confucius, or writing out their prayers on wooden votive plaques that are hung as offerings outside the main hall of the temple. On a visit there in 2008 I witnessed a man performing an intense walking prayer, in which he prostrated himself every few steps and bowed his head to Confucius. When I was leaving the temple complex two hours later, he was still making his way slowly and humbly towards the inner main hall.
A STAMP OF POLITICAL LEGITIMACY
Since the Han dynasty (206 BC–AD 220), although Confucianism was often eclipsed by the popularity of Daoism and Buddhism, many Chinese rulers incorporated the teachings of Confucius into their government policies. His insistence on the importance of virtuous rulers led many emperors to try to appear benevolent, for instance by going down among their people following a natural disaster, and his belief in education for all men led to the formation of a civil service comprising many men of lower social rank but considerable dedication and talent. From around the twelfth century Confucianism experienced a renaissance, triumphing over both Buddhist and Daoist teachings to become the official philosophy once again. This new form of Confucianism, later known as Neo-Confucianism, incorporated elements of Daoism (including the Dao and yin-yang) and Buddhism (such as discussions of the soul) and implied a parallel between social and political order and a greater cosmic order. Rulers from this period onwards often believed that by espousing Confucianism, they were not only ensuring social and political order in their realm but also preserving the stability of the universe.
Over the centuries, periods of political and economic success in China were often attributed to such Confucian approaches, and each new dynastic regime, even those of foreign rulers such as the Mongols or Manchus, generally followed the same policies. In other East Asian countries, too, rulers adopted Chinese Neo-Confucianist government policies as a means of legitimising their own rule. In Japan in the early 1600s, for example, the Tokugawa Shogunate, or military government, was impressed by the political and economic might of Ming dynasty China and assumed Neo-Confucian ideals to strengthen their control over the populace. In particular, the Shogunate borrowed Confucius’ belief in devotion to one’s lord to bolster the existing samurai ethic of loyalty, and it also enforced a rigid social hierarchy which placed the samurai at the top, followed by farmers, artisans and, lastly, merchants. Citing Chinese Neo-Confucian doctrine, the Tokugawa government claimed that only by adhering to this structure and these values could both social and universal order be maintained. This system remained in place in Japan for over 250 years, until it was challenged by supporters of the Japanese emperor who opposed the military government and sought a return to traditional Japanese-style imperial rule.
A SYMBOL OF ANCIENT WAYS
Although numerous rulers in China and beyond sought to forge a connection with the country’s ancient past by espousing and propagating the teachings of Confucius, there have been several important Chinese rulers who considered them harmful or antiquated and banned them outright. One of the most notable examples was China’s first emperor Qin Shi Huang (259–210 BC), who succeeded, after much bloody warfare, in uniting all the warring states of China under his rule. A follower of the Zhou dynasty Legalist philosophy, which claimed that social order could only be maintained by imposing strict laws and rules upon the people, he outlawed Confucianism and other Zhou philosophies, considering them potentially threatening to his new world order. To prevent the common people from having access to Confucian teachings and using them to challenge government decisions, he ordered the destruction of Confucian books and put to death many followers of Confucius. Some copies were retained in the imperial library for official use, but these books were in turn destroyed when the capital was burned during the collapse of the Qin. (It was only after the fall of the brief Qin dynasty that Confucianism began to become a powerful force in Chinese government.)
More recently, during the Cultural Revolution of Mao Zedong, Confucius was again demonised. Mao declared him to be a symbol of China’s imperial and feudal past and thus an enemy of the people and of their Revolution. Mao criticised Confucius’ belief in the importance of a hierarchical social structure as particularly counterrevolutionary, even though he himself borrowed the Confucian concept of loyalty to one’s ruler to garner popular support and further his own political aims. Under Mao, texts such as The Analects, which contained Confucius’ principal teachings, were banned, and Confucian scholars were punished and often tortured. Confucian temples were either turned into museums and libraries or were destroyed, and statues of Confucius inside them defaced.
A SYMBOL OF CHINESE CULTURE
In the last years of the twentieth century, as China began to depart from many of its Communist policies and reinvent itself as a powerful economic and cultural force in the world, Confucius was gradually brought back from political exile and is now being touted as a symbol of the greatness of China’s ancient civilisation. After the considerable cultural devastation of the Communist Revolution, the Chinese have sought to rediscover their own heritage, and many have turned to the teachings of Confucius as a means of reconnecting with it.
In 2004 the first Confucius Institute, a public, non-profit organisation run by the Chinese government, was opened in Seoul. The Confucius Institute promotes Chinese culture and language and supports local Chinese language-teaching programmes, following the models of such institutions as the British Council, the Goethe Institute or Japan Foundation. There are now over 300 such Confucius Institutes worldwide, mostly in universities, and the Chinese government plans to open 1,000 Confucius Institutes by 2020. It is also significant that in 2008, when the whole world was watching the Beijing Olympics, the spectacular opening ceremony began with the first words from The Analects of Confucius, which welcome friends from afar. Only a few decades after Confuc
ius was declared an enemy of the Chinese people and the Communist Revolution, the Chinese government is now upholding him as the great symbol of Chinese culture.
Among the Chinese people, too, Confucius has enjoyed a new lease of life. In 2006 a female professor of media studies, Yu Dan, rose to national stardom with her hugely popular television series and best-selling book that interprets Confucius’ teachings for modern life in China. Selling roughly ten million copies (six million pirated!) in its first year, the book has been powerful evidence that the Chinese are again interested in what their most famous philosopher has to say about society, politics, education and the human condition.
What did he teach?
No writings by Confucius have survived, but after his death his followers compiled his doctrines in a text called The Analects, a collection of sayings attributed to Confucius and observations by his students of his actions, behaviour and dialogues with them. The volume is short and its twenty chapters are assembled in a rather haphazard way, so it cannot be considered a thorough or comprehensive guide to his beliefs. Many of the verses begin with the words, ‘The Master said’, while some verses contain the teachings of his followers, so the text is very much an interpretation of his work by later students of his philosophy. Yet in The Analects we do gain a sense of his priorities and attitudes.
We learn that Confucius was primarily concerned with the human condition. His teachings did not address the afterlife or spirits, and he did not give his views on ‘the nature of things and the Way of Heaven’.1 Instead, he advised his students to keep ghosts and gods at a distance,2 and focus on people. At the core of his beliefs is the concept of ren, or benevolence, a virtue that each individual should strive to acquire, from the most powerful ruler to the poorest farmer supporting his family. An ideal man (his doctrines rarely referred to women) was a junzi, a gentleman who possessed this virtue and who behaved with kindness and wisdom towards others. Such a man was also well educated in classical literature, history, music and, most importantly, rituals, particularly those rituals that honoured the family ancestors. Confucius believed that an education in these areas was crucial not only for the development of the intellect but also for the cultivation of the character, and he repeatedly stressed the importance of learning.
The education of the mind and the cultivation of the character were, he believed, the key to creating successful relationships at all levels of society. To him, relationships were the very foundation of society: ruler–subject, father–child, husband–wife, older sibling–younger sibling, and friend–friend. Whatever the connection, both parties were expected to behave according to their status – the person in the higher position with kindness towards the lower and the lower with loyalty to the higher. If such reciprocity was demonstrated, social and political harmony could be achieved. Confucius saw it as the responsibility of the ruler of a state to set the example for his people, by showing kindness towards them and integrity in his political affairs. A leader who faltered in this had no right to rule the people, and should be removed from power.
Although we will never know exactly what he taught his many students, The Analects do give us a good guide to his basic philosophy. The following is a closer look at some of the main elements of his teachings. I have included excerpts from The Analects that, I believe, best illustrate what his students understood to be his views on these important aspects.
REN
At the very centre of Confucius’ teachings is the concept of ren – what is perhaps best described as a deep and sincere concern for the welfare of others. Ren is a quality that is hard to define precisely, and although the term is mentioned often in The Analects and is a crucial concept in his teachings, Confucius did not provide a solid definition of the word as he understood it.3 In fact, at one point in the text we learn that the Master seldom spoke of ren,4 and on the occasions when he did, he sometimes seemed to contradict himself. For example, on the one hand, he claimed, ren could only be achieved with a great deal of work: ‘A good man’s trials bear fruit – this is goodness indeed’,5 while on the other he suggested that all one had to do was wish for it and it would appear: ‘Is goodness out of reach? As soon as I long for goodness, goodness is at hand.’6 Such seemingly opposing statements can be confusing, and, not surprisingly, the term acquired a mystical quality and has been a subject of debate among Confucian scholars and philosophers for centuries. Translators have struggled to express the concept in foreign languages, and in English it has been rendered variously as benevolence, humanity, compassion, goodness and even love.
To Confucius, ren was what he most passionately sought to cultivate in himself. Whoever truly loves ren, he declared, would put nothing above it.7 His whole philosophy, or Way, revolved around the pursuit of this quality, and he urged his students to join him in this quest. To him, true compassion for others, or humanity, is not merely an essential quality for living within society. It is the only true path to individual happiness. Once in possession of it, he told his students, ‘even though you only have coarse grain for food, water for drink, and your bent arm for a pillow, you may still be happy’.8 He also claimed, ‘a good [ren] man rests in his humanity [ren], a wise man profits from his humanity [ren]’.9 In contrast, a man who does not possess ren ‘cannot long bear adversity and cannot long know joy’.10 Indeed, he challenged, ‘if a gentleman forsakes humanity [ren], how can he make a name for himself? Never for a moment does a gentleman part from humanity [ren]; he clings to it through trials, he clings to it through tribulations’.11
Confucius seems to have believed that the pursuit of ren was not an easy task. This was not a quality that one was born with, but was learned through much hard work and discipline. It could take a lifetime of self-cultivation to develop ren, and to be able to use it naturally. So, when he suggested that a person could just wish for ren and it would be there, he was not contradicting himself. Rather, he was likely implying that once this quality was truly learned, it could be summoned immediately, without much effort.12 However, even if a student succeeded in acquiring ren, his spiritual quest would not necessarily be over, since this wonderful quality brings with it great responsibility. A student of his Way (Dao), he said, must be strong, ‘for his burden is heavy, and his journey is long. His burden is humanity [ren]: is this not heavy? His journey only ends with death: is this not long’?13 He might also have to make the ultimate sacrifice: ‘There are instances where he will give his life in order to fulfil his humanity.’14 Someone in possession of ren would make such a sacrifice without a second thought, since there was nothing more important in life than showing genuine compassion for others. Only by doing this, Confucius believed, could one be truly human and attain true happiness.
LI
According to Confucius’ teachings, one of the most important and effective ways to cultivate ren was to study and carefully follow li. This word, like ren, has a broad meaning and is not easy to translate precisely, but the English terms most often used are ‘ritual’ or ‘propriety’. Li applies to such everyday social acts as basic greetings. How we address the various members of our social world – family friends, teachers, employers or government officials – depends on our own social position as we travel through life. We learn our greeting rituals and practise them, sometimes more successfully than others. (In fact, we are mostly unaware that we are performing a rite at all, unless something goes wrong with the encounter and a person is offended.) Li also applies to the more elaborate rituals that we perform, such as weddings, graduation ceremonies and funerals. In China, from before the time of Confucius, the most important rite of all was the honouring of one’s deceased family members, both during the funeral and afterwards as an ancestor spirit at the family altar.
To Confucius, the point of most social rituals was to help guide people in their day-to-day dealings with others. Rituals provide a means of showing gratitude, congratulations or condolences in ways that can form and strengthen relationships and help people to express needs, wishe
s and feelings appropriately. ‘Without ritual,’ he explained, ‘courtesy is tiresome, prudence is timid; without ritual, bravery is quarrelsome; without ritual, frankness is hurtful.’15 With the tools and the structures provided by our social rituals, he believed, people can display such qualities as bravery or frankness in ways that do not hurt or offend others. However, Confucius warned his students to beware of putting form above substance. He insisted that more important than the simple act of carrying out a particular rite was to do so with a sincere heart and with respect, not only towards others, but also towards the act itself. Without this attitude, the ritual would have no real meaning and would be ineffective both as a means of developing good relationships and as a way of cultivating the self.
For example, when it comes to serving one’s parents, he taught, ‘It is the attitude that matters. If young people merely offer their services when there’s work to do, or let their elders drink when there is wine and food, how could this ever pass as filial piety?’16 Far more important than the gesture of helping others and serving them food and drink was the feeling of wanting to perform this act for them, out of love rather than mere obligation. He despaired that, too often, people carried out so-called filial acts towards their parents without any true emotional connection with them. ‘Nowadays,’ he lamented, ‘people think they are dutiful sons when they feed their parents. Yet they also feed their dogs and horses. Unless there is respect, where is the difference?’17 The same approach should apply to the more elaborate rituals. When asked, ‘What is the root of ritual?’, Confucius answered, ‘Big question! In ceremonies, prefer simplicity to lavishness; in funerals, prefer grief to formality.’18 To him, it was much more important to focus on the human aspect of the ceremony itself- for example, the honouring of a family member – than on its form, even if that meant forgoing some of the prescribed details. He further stressed this point by declaring, ‘If I do not sacrifice with all my heart, I might as well not sacrifice.’19