by Confucius
It has been tempting for some translators to call this figure ‘God’. At times James Legge, the first serious translator, does so in his translation of the Shang Shu, reflecting both his nineteenth-century missionary background but also his genuine desire that Westerners take the Confucian classics seriously as spiritual texts. He hoped to achieve this in part by using the word ‘God’ and to some extent by stylistically basing his own translations on the metre and rhythm of the King James version of the Bible (1611). By these means he intended the Western reader to feel that Confucian and Daoist books were potentially as important as the Bible. He was also part of a debate which arose within the missionary community in China (who tended to be the prime movers in taking Chinese culture and literature seriously until the rise of a more scholarly approach in the early twentieth century) about whether the Chinese had been vouchsafed a revelation from God similar to that given to the Israelites in the Old Testament. In other words, did the Chinese receive a special revelation and thus have a special relationship with God along the same lines as ancient Israel? And if so, did this revelation and relationship become confused, lost and obscured by the rise of later religious practices, in the same way as the Old Testament at times presents the Israelites as having lost their way due to ‘heathen’ practices? Such ideas persist amongst some evangelicals to this day. I was recently asked if the most profound Chinese characters show that they were based upon symbols found in the Book of Genesis. I had to answer that this was not the case.
These considerations lie behind the occasional use of the term ‘God’ by Legge. I have not used that term because I think it gives a false sense of the nature of what the various Chinese terms mean. If anything, the notion of a ‘Ruler on High’ reflects a standard of virtue and authority which has to be at the top of the classic model of the universe as envisioned by the Confucian world view. Looking at it anthropologically, a hierarchy which claims that its authority comes from Heaven has to have a Heavenly Ruler who decides that this is so and bestows the Mandate of Heaven. Looked at spiritually, Heaven acts and thus it must have a prime actor who makes things happen. But the sense here is of an instrumental need for a ruler rather than the sense of a personal deity concerned with the well-being of the human realm.
The question of whether such a figure as the Ruler on High or the Heavenly Emperor was the ultimate force of the cosmos was a debate of immense intensity during the period between the end of the Han Dynasty and the rise of the Sui (AD 220 to 589), during which time the Shang Shu as we have it today was once again almost completely lost and then reconfigured as a core text (see below). Philosophers such as Wang Bi (AD 226–249) and Gou Xiang (c.AD 252–312) argued in a similar fashion to Aristotle that there has to be an unmoved mover behind everything. Wang Bi puts it thus:
Things do not struggle among themselves at random. They flow of necessity from their principle of order. They are integrated by a root cause. They are gathered together by a single influence. Thus things are complex but not chaotic. There is multiplicity of them but not confusion.*
Guo Xiang puts it very bluntly:
Everything that exists moves forward and backward differently, as though there were a True Lord to make them so. But if we search for evidences for such a True Lord, we fail to find any. We should understand that things are all natural and not caused by something else.†
This is why we need to be very careful about using terms such as ‘God’ for phrases such as ‘Ruler on High’. There is a greater depth behind the terms than can be captured by simple transposing to the Western concept of God.
Just occasionally, there is a hint of the sort of divine being who listens to the cries of the oppressed people. For example, in chapter twenty-seven King Wu says with regards to why the Shang must be overthrown:
So, having made sacrifices to the Ruler on High and performed the correct rituals for the deities of the land, I will now lead us all in carrying out the instructions from Heaven. Heaven cares deeply for the people. What the people long for, Heaven means to give. So come now, help me, a simple man, to reform the world.
The sense that comes across from this quote is that the Ruler on High is but an instrument of the Higher Power, which is simply ‘Heaven’, the unmovable mover.
Into this discussion of Heaven and deities must come the fact that this section in particular shows the role of ancestors who have become divine or at the very least live on and are able to observe what is happening upon Earth, even if their ability to interfere is somewhat unclear. Throughout this section, the role of Tang the Conqueror transcends his purely human life. He becomes the revered and worshipped First King to whom all later rulers have to be held accountable. It is the role of the ancestors to take the place which in Western religious tradition is filled by God, Jesus or the saints and prophets. When in crisis, it is to the ancestors that the noble ministers turn for help.
It is in the Book of Shang that we meet – in full flow of advice and commentary – the fearless and often rather patronizing minister who takes it upon himself to correct and improve the morality of the ruler. The importance of virtue rises to the fore with the Shang dynasty because its eventual dramatic fall is accounted for by the failure of the dynasty to continue to practise virtue.
This is not through lack of ministers and advisors telling the ruler to be virtuous. For example, chapters thirteen to sixteen introduce us to Yi Yin, the chief minister of the ruler who was the grandson and successor of Tang the Conqueror and ruled from 1753 to 1720 BC. In chapter thirteen, Yi Yin sets out very clearly why the practice of virtue and following the Way of Heaven are vital:
In the past the Xia started off by being worthy, so as a result no wrath descended upon them from Heaven. The spirits of the land and waters were at peace and all life on earth was united – all creatures. However, their descendants did not follow this model, and as a result the Emperor of Heaven sent disasters upon them, through our ruler whom Heaven chose to endow with its Mandate …
Now then, arising from such reward for virtue, everything hangs on how you all begin. Start by showing true affection to your own family because if you can show it to them, then you can go on to show it to the State and then to everyone within the boundaries of our land.
What is very interesting in the midst of the sagacious advice offered is the political insight and indeed wisdom. The Confucian ethic – or perhaps this is better termed ethos – often meant that loyal ministers and officials had to be willing to confront corruption at the highest level. Although they were the loyal bureaucracy, they were also expected to be the fiercest defenders of justice, benevolence and virtue. They took upon themselves to correct rulers in order to defend the ordinary people and the seeds of this virtuous opposition are sown here in these chapters.
For example, listening again to Yi Yin, this time from chapter sixteen, which is considered a later possible third- to fourth-century AD text but seems to reflect an ancient tradition of this virtuous minister, he says:
Come now, my king. As you know, Heaven does not have favourites. It simply rewards those who are respectful. It is the same with the people. They are not uncritical in their affection because they look to see who is really benevolent. The gods don’t just accept any offering made to them. They only accept those offered with real sincerity. As you know, it’s not easy to sit on the throne Heaven bestows.
Where virtue is, order is there too.
Where virtue isn’t – chaos.
Follow the design of order and all will go well.
Ignore it and it will end in disaster.
A wise ruler is constantly thoughtful in what he follows.
However, perhaps the greatest hero ministers have to be the Viscount of Wei, brother to the last and most evil king of the Shang dynasty, and the Principal Scholar of the last king of the Shang. The Viscount of Wei lays into the corruption of his brother and the corruption of the vast majority of the scholars, ministers and officials in chapter twenty-six, the very last Shan
g chapter.
The Viscount was outspoken, and said:
‘Scholars, great and small, this Yin dynasty
has now lost its right to rule over our land.
Our ancestors were appointed from on high
knowing what needed to be done, and how to do it.
But all that’s been lost through drunkenness,
and the virtue of the past has been betrayed.
The people of Yin think it’s fine
to perform crimes of daylight robbery and viciousness
no matter how great or small.
The nobles even encourage each other in this
and no one is ever challenged! But now
the common people are in revolt, and at last
the whole edifice is collapsing …’
In true Confucian style, the Principal Scholar points to the impact of such corruption on the ordinary people when he says ‘Look at the poor, they’ve given up all hope of salvation.’
But it is the final two sentences of his speech in chapter twenty-six which show the virtue of this great man. While others are getting ready to flee, seeking refuge wherever they can, he says:
We each have to make our own decision,
and we’ll each have to answer for this to our ancestors,
but I have chosen to stay. My refuge is here.
As the counterpart to the virtuous minister we also meet the king who wants to be virtuous, to be worthy of Heaven’s Mandate and who seeks guidance from a virtuous minister. In chapters twenty-one to twenty-three we meet King Wu Ding and his advisor Yue, whom the king sees in a dream and sends out servants to find. Here the king echoes the concern of the sagacious ministers by saying:
Every morning, every evening
tell me what you think so I can act virtuously.
If I’m like hard metal
then you will be my grindstone
on which I find my edge.
If I’m like one trying to cross a great river
then you will be my boat I’m rowing across.
If I am like a dry and thirsty land
then you will be rain to me!
Being honest you will make me so.
Be like a medicine, which, bitter as it is
is healing for the patient.
I am a man walking barefoot,
I need to tread carefully or my feet will be hurt.
This section also contains the three chapters related to the moving of the Shang dynasty capital to a new site known as Yin (close to Anyang City in Henan Province – rediscovered in the late nineteenth century and the site of the first major discovery of oracle bones with early Chinese characters cut into them), which give the Shang the alternative dynastic name, Yin. Chapters eighteen to twenty tell of King Pan Geng’s attempts to persuade his somewhat reluctant people to move. The tone is splendidly tetchy at times, as, for example, in this section from chapter eighteen where he rounds on the moaning, grumbling officials and tries to get them to see that they are all part of something much bigger:
But now, you are all kicking up a great fuss, making false and pointless claims, and I honestly have no idea what you are all going on about. It is not that I have given up on virtue, but you don’t give me any respect. It’s as if you cannot see me for who I really am, a straightforward man – as if you are looking at me by the faint light of an open fire. I fear that, through my lack of experience, I am to blame for this. After all, a fishing net only works if all the many strands are in place and holding together. Likewise, a farmer who puts time and trouble into managing his fields will get a good harvest as a result. If you can banish selfishness, then you will help the people and indeed your own family and friends as well.
However, the absolute power he also wields is made quite clear at the end of the chapter when he says, ‘Because if you don’t [move to the new capital], you will be punished. And then it will be too late to repent.’
The penultimate chapter in this Book of Shang foreshadows the downfall of the Shang through the venal corruption of the last Shang ruler, Zhou. Chapter twenty-five, where minister Zu Yi is confronting the ruler Zhou, ends thus:
How can you claim to still have the Mandate of Heaven when your manifold wickednesses are only too well known? Very soon the Dynasty of Yin will fall and you will be to blame. Can you not consider the significance of this condemnation and its impact upon your country?
As we saw earlier, in chapter twenty-six all hope has been lost and so we come to the final Book of the Shang Shu and the story of the next dynasty, the Zhou, in The Book of Zhou.
The Book of Zhou
From chapter twenty-seven to chapter fifty-eight we have the story of the conquest of the Shang by the Zhou and the establishment of the Zhou dynasty. The Zhou dynasty ruled in theory from 1122 BC (or from 1046 BC according to modern dating systems) to 221 BC. I say in theory because effectively after 770 and a major invasion from the West, it ruled only a part of Eastern China and then from 476 BC only in name as China split into a range of smaller kingdoms. It was the First Emperor who would in 221 BC finally extinguish all the other kingdoms through conquest and create a united China and finally put to rest any notion of the Zhou Dynasty still existing. He founded his own Qin Dynasty instead. Our texts take us to the reign of King Ping who came to the throne in 770 BC.
The Book of Zhou occupies more than half of the total book and with a few exceptions (see below) consists of documents which are considered to be from the oldest version of the book. The Zhou recorded in detail their times and alongside this section of the book we can place another two of the Five Classics, the Yi Jing (Classic of Change) and the Shi Jing (Classic of Poetry). Both books in very different ways recount the events and processes involved in the overthrow of the Shang by the Zhou. It is possible that both were recited annually alongside the Shang Shu at a celebration ceremony where, through drama, liturgy and recitation, the story of the triumph of the Zhou over the corrupt Shang was enacted. The Li Jing (Classic of Rites) makes mention of just such a ceremonial retelling. It was similar in a way to the role of Passover plays in Judaism or a Passion Play in Christianity.
The Zhou section opens with the Great Vow, chapters twenty-seven to twenty-nine. Here King Wu of the Zhou announces that he has been commanded by Heaven to overthrow Zhou the Shang ruler. We are traditionally in the year 1123 and Wu outlines in these chapters the terrible crimes of King Zhou. King Zhou is the archetype of the evil ruler and his crimes are known to this day. In these chapters they are simply mentioned in passing. To understand the revulsion with which this evil king has been viewed throughout Chinese history it is useful to know a little more about these infamous incidents. In chapter twenty-seven we read this:
He has become so lost in drink and lust that he has become a terrible tyrant. He has punished entire families, not just the actual criminal; he has favoured a few families by making key posts hereditary and his obsession with building himself luxurious palaces, vast pleasure complexes with lakes and water features, has been at the expense of you, the people. He has tortured the most loyal and good people and has cut open the bellies of pregnant women.
He was renowned as a drunkard, as promoting only his cronies and for experiments. Here the reference is to his experiments to see how babies grew by ordering that pregnant women have their bellies slit open so that he could see what stage the foetus had reached. He is also infamous for two other experiments on living people which are mentioned in chapter twenty-nine:
Listen: he dissected the bare legs
of those who work deep in the paddy fields
and cut out for casual inspection
the hearts of the highest men!
It is said that one day, travelling through the countryside in winter, he saw peasants working up to their thighs in cold water planting out the rice. Convinced they must have special legs which could withstand the cold, he had them seized and their legs amputated so he could examine them and compare them with other people, also seized and al
so cut up in this barbaric way.
Likewise, he wanted to find out if the hearts of virtuous men were different from those of ordinary men. So he had the hearts of some of the wisest and most virtuous men in the land cut out of their bodies to be examined.
On top of this he oppressed the people so that they cried out to Heaven for rescue and he failed to perform the rituals for the veneration of his ancestors.
This is why, as King Wu says, ‘The sheer scale of Shang’s wickedness is overwhelming and Heaven’s Mandate has been given to us so we can destroy them.’ In a series of Calls to Action, King Wu summons the people, their leaders and their armies to join him in seeking to overthrow King Zhou.
In chapter thirty we have a dramatic (literally) presentation of the Call to Arms in the Vow at Mu. The armies are about to cross the river and therefore formally invade the Shang. The remarkable thing is that we have a parallel and contemporary account of this invasion by the Zhou, contained in the Yi Jing and in the Shi Jing. The testimony of both the other books to the historicity of this invasion is important as for the first time we have other documents which corroborate the Shang Shu accounts.
Of these, the most significant is the account in the Yi Jing. The Yi Jing is a set of oracle readings taken in preparation for this invasion and which guided it. These oracles were given over a short period of time. They tell the story of the epic struggle and uprising of the Zhou, which led to the overthrow of the Shang dynasty. Running through the ancient texts of the Yi Jing and in the Book of Zhou of the Shang Shu is an epic which ranks alongside the Exodus or the siege of Troy. These oracles are also commented upon in the Shi Jing. For example: