Ashoka the Great

by Keuning, Wytze

  Vasumitra bowed.

  ‘I need a reliable sarthavaha.’

  Vasumitra thought for a moment.

  ‘Sire, can he be a Shudra?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘Then you can have Achala. He speaks nine tongues, knows Bharuchkacha completely, as well as all the large trading cities in Aryavarta.’

  A sparkling wind blew through the government offices. A single sharp remark, a question, Ashoka’s acquaintance with everything, his interest in the smallest of details, his razor-sharp memory which forgot neither a person nor a case, filled the people with awe, and confirmed the wild legends of Pataliputra, Taxila and Vidisha.

  An elderly Brahmin, a purusha2, entered Ashoka’s palace office upon the instigation of Shakuni. In a reserved manner, he made a perfunctory bow. It annoyed the Viceroy.

  ‘Who are you, Brahmin?’

  ‘I am Koshala, Sire.’

  ‘Purusha in Dhala.’

  ‘Yes, Sire.’

  ‘You are very rich, Koshala, you live in a palace. Did you inherit your wealth from your father?’

  ‘My father left me rich possessions but that is of no concern to anyone, as little as I am concerned over others’ personal matters.’

  ‘Right, noble Kosala. So, you immediately rebuked Shakuni, when he came speaking ill of me. For two days he was your guest.’

  Kosala trembled but, trying hard to appear calm, answered:

  ‘Hospitality is deemed to be a virtue amongst Aryans, Sire.’

  ‘Did you rebuke him?’

  ‘I do not know anymore, O, Raja.’

  ‘When you became purusha, you did swear the oath of fealty to the Maharajah. Is that fealty also a virtue amongst the Aryans?’

  ‘Yes, O, Raja.’

  ‘How many caravans pass by Dhala?’

  ‘In the past years, many caravans have used the road over Dhala.’

  ‘And you permit them, purusha? You know that caravans from Bharuchkacha have to follow the Maharajah’s great trade roads over Ujjain. Or, are the interests of the Maharajah of no concern to you either? Do you collect the tax on the caravan-goods?’

  After a pause, he replied, ‘No, Sire, I am not empowered to do so.’

  ‘Then for what are you empowered, purusha?’

  ‘The collection of levies on the lands, O, Raja.’

  ‘From now on, you will compel each caravan that wants, unlawfully, to take the road past Dhala, make use of the road over Ujjain, if necessary, by force.’

  ‘Yes, Sire.’

  ‘Tomorrow I will hear, too, how large your territory is and how much of the taxes you contribute to the rajuka.’

  ‘Sire, one cannot do everything in one day.’

  ‘In one day, there can always be accomplished more than one does.’

  Early next morning, Kesala appeared in the Viceroy’s palace.

  ‘Sire, I have been dismissed. Although I wished to leave, to have it done this way is not fair: my employment was lawful.’

  ‘I know that. Why do you wish to leave?’

  ‘I want to live in harmony with my faith. That is impossible here. I will go to Taxila for studies after which I will make a pilgrimage to Kapilavastu3.’

  ‘Are you thinking of becoming a follower of Gautama the Buddha?’

  ‘Yes, Sire.’

  ‘Why could you not live in harmony with your faith here?’

  ‘Sire, the second precept of the Buddha is: ‘Not to take what is not given to you voluntarily’. In Malwa, everyone takes whatever he can snatch. The fourth precept is: ‘truthfulness’. In Malwa, truth is gone like the stork in monsoon.’

  ‘What has been your kind of service, Kesala?’

  ‘I travelled on horseback through the west Malwa to see how many of the caravans were deceiving Kartika.’

  ‘And how many did you find?’

  ‘Seven, Sire. When I pointed out to them their deceit, they either jeered at me, deliberately spoke in languages I could not understand, or ignored me.’

  ‘Why did you investigate all this?’

  ‘So, the High Rajuka could inform the new Raja.’

  ‘Are there many caravans that take the smugglers’ routes?’

  ‘Nearly all of them, Sire.’

  ‘Is it possible to catch up with those seven caravans?’

  ‘Maybe, with three or four of them. It would require fifty armed horsemen.’

  ‘I take you immediately back into service. Within one hour you will leave with fifty heavily armed riders.’

  Kesala caught up with five caravans. From then on, all goods unloaded at the large trading cities had to be marked with the royal seal.

  ‘Who is Kesala?’

  ‘He is a lipikara4, Sire, but he meddles too much in the work of other employees. That makes him unpopular.’

  ‘Honest? Diligent? Loyal?’

  ‘Very much so, Sire.’

  ‘You are discharged as of now, Kartika. Are you rich?’

  ‘No, Sire. I have served the Maharajah honestly.’

  ‘Then you may keep your wages.’

  ‘Kesala, from now on you are in charge of the Government offices. Take care there is truth, heedfulness to duty and respect for the laws of the Maharajah, so that you can live in harmony with your faith.’

  Kesala, deeply touched, thanked him.

  Kullika arrived in Ujjain, and the solicitude displayed by Ashoka to his purohita touched everyone. ‘We will now give thought to others too, my Kullika.’

  ‘I still consider it as good fortune that I joined you, my Raja. I have come to know and value now the teachings of the Shakyamuni.’

  ‘I know them too, my Kullika. No teachings for me! A path to be walked upon by only a happy few of the millions in Aryavarta, to reach Nirvana … Of what value are such teachings for us?’

  ‘It is a path for everyone to embark on, my Raja! Lies the beauty of your walk in the way you walk it … or in the journey’s end?’

  ‘No, of course not in its journey’s end.’

  ‘Well, the beauty in the teachings of Gautama Buddha is the great importance he attaches to faith and to life itself. He praises life as joy; that is what Aryavarta has forgotten because of the constant fear of Manu’s heavy hand.’

  ‘This is what Devi told me, too.’

  ‘Then the Rani is a Buddhist, Sire. It is beautiful, too, how he respects all life.’

  ‘I killed the judicial elephant and Virata, Devaka, Richika, and …’

  ‘Some people’s path leads over abysses with crocodile-infested rivers and steep tiger-rocks, while others’ over low-lying lands of luxuriant pastures. A king has to judge the deeds of his subjects, a Vaishya only to cultivate his fields and tend his cattle.’

  ‘Never will I respect a life if it places itself, out of greed, above other man’s happiness.’

  ‘I hope that your road will be long and your Nirvana far away yet, my Raja.’

  ‘So, I may learn to respect life, you mean?’

  ‘Someone whose mind goes out to the sorrow and happiness of others will learn that by himself, Sire. No, to pave the way for others.’

  ‘To be able to do so, there should be at least one person who believes in us, my Kullika, and that is why I missed you much. Now I have two.’

  Ashoka had taken Devi from Vidisha to Ujjain. The capital was festively adorned. The employees had soon come to regard Ashoka’s authority as inescapable, and no one dared anymore go his own way. The rise in the number of caravans created a great deal of work. Merchants and caravan traders bowed to this new control. The Raja demanded his tax strictly according to the rules the Maharajah had laid down for Malwa. The purushas were given strict orders to collect that part of the harvest that was lawfully due, and soon the storehouses were filled. The people wallowed in the mysticism surrounding the Wild Prince, and watched in amazement at the marvel that one single man was able to bring about in the south-west of the great empire. When Devi entered the city, like a fairytale Princess in radiant beaut
y, seated by the side of her beloved Prince on the royal elephant Jampa and followed by Ashoka’s fierce warriors, there seemed to be no end to the cheering. The loveliest of flowers were showered by the crowds lining their path. Ujjain felt how the depressing cloud of injustice and deceit which had hung over them for a long time, had given way to the justice and power of the Raja. It was like experiencing cooling rain after a searing period of hot sun, a feast for the joyful revellers.

  His influence in Taxila and Ujjain affected Ashoka even more than it did his subjects. He observed the eagerness with which people submitted themselves to a sovereign who, supported by a strong will, ruled justly and honestly. But, like a threatening power, an obscure force of nature, he felt the spirit of the Brahmin priests opposing him, their twisted grip on the souls of the simple Vaishyas. In Taxila he had wanted—amidst all those great scholars from the university—to seek for the one truth that had to exist. ‘Search for truth and you will find many truths.’ Or, revelations, after all? But which? Of Buddha? Empathising in compassion and joy. With the sacrificial priests as well? Foolishness!

  After a hard day’s work, at evening time, when Chandra spread out his calming light over Malwa, he would often sit on the verandah with Devi and Kullika. Then everything within him cried out for clarity:

  ‘Buddhism is good for monks in monasteries, my Kullika. Only there, within the walls, pervades the right conditions for the ‘path’. He who wants to control Jambudvipa5 will find such a faith ludicrous. It is as if a warrior calls: ‘I want to fight my strongest enemy, so bind my hands and feet’. Of what worth is compassion in a world of priests’ hatred!’

  ‘No country needs the all-encompassing love of the Shakyamuni more than Jambudvipa, my Raja. Who is the one you love most in Bindusara’s empire?’

  ‘Vidisha Mahadevi,’ laughed Ashoka.

  ‘The Rani is a descendant of the Shakyaclan, and in her being she is a follower of the Shakyamuni.’

  ‘But the whole clan had to flee the country of the Buddha because of Vidudabha. For him, the gentle followers of Gautama Buddha had become an all-too-easy prey.’

  ‘No Raja in Jambudvipa established his power with less bloodshed than the Raja of Ujjain.’

  ‘Child’s play, compared to what I want to achieve, my Devi. The Buddha would shackle me.’

  ‘Hatred is not appeased by hatred; only love appeases hatred.’

  ‘Egotism is not vanquished by love: to love is to surrender. An informant from Pataliputra told me that the Maharajah has been ill. The Brahmins advised him to take a decision about the succession to the throne. The Maharajah refused. Fortunately, the magician cured my father. Two of the Princes, leaders in the army-camp, had Shiva’s temple demolished, but the next morning the building was again in place. The temple had not been consecrated by the priests, thus was not sacred, and had to be burned down. No soldier had dared to carry out the order, fearing Shiva’s wrath. Then a penitent from Pataliputra came forward to do it. The following day the temple was rebuilt once again, and Father has forbidden it to be brought down. The soldiers of the four camps are now very zealous in their worship of Shiva. Shakuni has fled and vanished without a trace. This, Sela surmises, with the help of the Brahmin-court. And so, in Pataliputra too, each chooses his own selfish way. I, too.’

  ‘I fear the Shiva-cult will coarsen the warriors, Sire.’

  ‘Does my purohita expect that events in Pataliputra will take place like a dispute in a forest hermitage?’

  ‘Maybe, the peaceful division of the eastern and western regions of the empire could be the answer.’

  ‘If it were a battle for worldly power between Sumana and me, Kullika, yes. But in essence, it is a battle for justice and happiness. Either Sumana wins, and thus the priest, or I win, which means, the people of my father’s vast empire win. I do not see how that can happen without a battle.’

  ‘A new light has been kindled in Jambudvipa, Sire: The life of each being is sacred.’

  ‘Apply that to Aryavarta and Mara, the devil, will reign.’

  ‘Otherwise, the army will reign. Is that a higher principle? Even when it enforces goodness! What is the value of that outer deed in comparison with the inner attitude of loving kindness, compassion, empathy, equanimity towards the impure or wretched ones, in thoughts, words and deeds, the four Sublime States of the Buddha?’

  ‘Sumana … Devaka … Richika … Tritsus … Hasta. Not to speak of Jokarna, Sahula and Lamba.’

  ‘The magic of love for all beings, even the raging wild elephant could not resist.’6

  ‘Sumana … Devaka … Richika … Tritsus. No … I, Maharajah! I praise the worship of Shiva: Shiva is the god of destruction as well as the life-creating power, and, my Kullika, of the eternal truth. Why should I not venerate Shiva as the punishing, avenging god, who takes on your four principles of truth? Buddha, my Devi, has proved too weak for the entrenched habit to surrender to the heartless Brahmin priests. Are not these your words?’

  ‘My dear Ashoka, it is dangerous to place the tiger beside the peacock.’

  ‘But it is more dangerous to lose oneself in the beauty of the holy peacock. Why should not Shiva, with his purifying, immaculate truth, take in the desecrators of your beautiful doctrine of all-encompassing love, and then pass them on, purified, to samsara for rebirth? You fear my actions will demand blood. But do you not count the blood that your tolerance demands?’

  ‘Sire, Revata wishes to speak to you.’

  ‘Sire, my work would have been impossible had I not had the help of Achala, who is fluent in the languages spoken by the foreign sailors. We have formed a caravan the way you ordered. I was the caravan trader, Achala, the sarthavaha. We bought sandalwood and cinnamon oil from the Deccan, silk and swords from Kashi, gemstones, ivory and sweet aromatic oils from Taxila, pearls from Sinhala; in short, everything that is of value for the merchants of foreign countries. Then, we left for Bharuchkacha, where we bribed the officers with precious objects, and so ensured access into government offices and their secrets, which are for sale everywhere with a few tricks. Then, we started our trade with the foreigners: the means was our merchandise, the purpose, to get to know everything about the administrators and the Port area.’

  Revata informed the Raja about what was going on in the ports.

  2

  SHIVA’S THUNDERBOLT

  he day after tomorrow we will depart towards Bharuchkacha.’ Early the next morning, Ashoka gave orders for Jampa, an oxcart, and a few of the war chariots to proceed, and to wait for him some two yojana from Bharuchkacha. Then he prepared himself for the journey. He selected a fairly heavily armed force. Devi bid the Viceroy farewell. Kullika blessed the troops.

  ‘Sire, let wisdom guide you,’ whispered the Rani to the king.

  ‘I never spill more blood than Shiva decrees, my beloved Devi.’

  Ashoka’s expedition to Bharuchkacha was hastened to the quickest pace. Achala rode with the King and Kullika ahead of the troops. They followed the caravan road to Mahismati and then rode through the southern forests of Malwa until they reached the high Vindhyas. From there, they descended to the Narmada, keeping to the course of the river as much as possible till Bharuchkacha. Ashoka, when he could, asked the sarthavaha for details about the port area. His questions probed further and deeper than Achala really liked to divulge. But the young Viceroy was irrepressible in his inquisitiveness. He connected facts, formed plans, never forgot any detail and Achala realised its importance only when Ashoka had already drawn his conclusions and had decided on the strategy of his actions. At some distance from the town he reorganised his troops before they marched into Bharuchkacha, going directly to the marketplace on the banks of the River Narmada.

  Ashoka’s arrival created a stir in the busy market town. People from all corners, foreigners and citizens, came to see the unusual cavalcade. None knew what to make of this unexpected appearance in the streets. An imperial elephant? A splendidly dressed-up Prince? An armed force? In the palace
of Sarvilaka, people were as surprised as they were unprepared. The Purusha’s face lost all colour when he heard that a strong troop of warriors stood in front of the palace. Could it be the Iranians? Had Gobad not threatened him that he would make his complaints to the government in his country? Foolishness. They would not dare to be so brazen as to invade the empire of the mighty Maharajah of India! Kartika? Ridiculous!

  Ashoka entered the palace with Kullika and Achala, followed by twenty heavily armed soldiers, and proceeded towards the hall of Justice. There, they took their places on the three chairs meant for the judges.

  ‘Tell Sarvilaka to come here immediately,’ he told a startled servant who had come rushing up to him.

  ‘Sire, my master is in the ladies’ quarters and no one is allowed to disturb him.’

  ‘The Viceroy of Malwa wishes to speak to him in no later than five minutes.’ He then said to Jala, his chief officer, ‘Follow that servant with ten warriors.’

  A moment later, Sarvilaka appeared, accompanied by his principal wife. They threw themselves down at the feet of the Raja.

  ‘Gracious Raja, I regret that I was not aware of your arrival. Bharuchkacha surely would have welcomed you with a warm reception. How can I be of service to Your Grace? Nothing will be too difficult for me and for the city government.’

  ‘Stand up, Sarvilaka. I do not come to ask favours from you. You are appearing here at my court and you will give me an account of your deeds. Swear the oath that you will speak the truth, Sarvilaka. What rights have you claimed from the incoming ships?’

  ‘A tenth part, O, Raja, as the law decrees.’

  ‘No more?’

  ‘No, Sire.’

  ‘Jala, have three captains of foreign ships sent in.’ He turned once again to Sarvilaka: ‘How much is claimed from the caravans departing?’

  ‘They ought to contribute a tenth part, too, Sire. The caravans do make their payments in Ujjain though.’

  ‘How many caravans have been despatched from Bharuchkacha to Ujjain in the last three weeks?’

  ‘I have to ask my employees, O, Raja.’