Ashoka the Great

by Keuning, Wytze

  ‘He has abandoned all warfare. The Buddha forbids destruction of life.’

  ‘And if he gets into conflicts with neighbouring peoples?’

  ‘Then he tries to solve the problems through envoys and missions. To such cowardly methods the third Maurya descends. The fourth may be going as a supplicant to his enemies.’

  ‘Your bitterness shows that the Mauryas have enemies in their own country as well. Do all the Brahmins hate the Buddha and the Emperor?’

  ‘Unfortunately, not. Many let themselves be carried away by the teachings of the Buddha, compassion and love for all beings.’

  ‘So amongst the Brahmins there are still some humane beings.’

  ‘The gods starve and thirst; the Buddha forbids sacrifices.’

  The Greeks, together with Tshunda, leave the sullen Brahmin.

  ‘Tshunda, you are right. This is a relic of old cast-off thoughts. But the Emperor …’

  ‘That does not look too good for our mission,’ Aristes remarks.

  ‘What courage to carry through such a doctrine in a world empire. Like a Phoibos Apollo, who brands murder as a transgression of the laws of Zeus.6

  ‘But Diodotos cannot expect support of this Emperor!’

  ‘Without effort one does not obtain friendship, even less, help.’

  ‘You have to talk with the Maharajah yourself,’ reassures Tshunda. ‘He is the personification of truth and benevolence. He will meet you with courtesy.’

  After Indraprastha the road continues through the lush fields of Madhyadesa, where the prosperity and peace of the people is visibly seen in the countryside. It leaves a great impression on the Greeks, coming from a country where for many years revolt and fighting have disturbed the peace. In every city they pass by, they are firmly regulated but treated and cared for with great friendliness by the foreigners department. There is no arbitrariness in this country; all government institutions work scrupulously and with flexibility which is only possible with people who feel secure in the Emperor’s hand and justice. The interest in Orestes’ caravan is great but not intrusive, maybe too because a Brahmin is part of the company.

  When the caravan departs from Kashi, Orecles notices that Katcha is missing.

  ‘Where has my protector gone?’ he asks mockingly.

  ‘He took a different road, sir.’ answers Tshunda.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I heard about it. Certain people cannot hide themselves from the imperial secret service.’

  Orecles looks at him in disbelief. ‘One step off the road and one is lost, Tshunda, in such a great empire.’

  ‘Do try it, high emissary.’

  ‘Do they keep an eye on Katchayana?’

  ‘Most likely they knew where he went to.’

  ‘Is he dangerous?’

  ‘No. Former sacrificial priests like to sow intrigue against the Emperor but no one is a match for the secret service.’

  ‘At least Katchayana could have said a word of thanks for our proper care,’ laughs Aristes.

  ‘On the contrary, he thinks that you are obliged to him.’

  ‘Let us offer him our best camel as thanks!’

  ‘He probably would accept it in full earnestness.’

  In Pataliputra, the delegation is received with all honours. They are accommodated in one of the imperial buildings in the park and are told that they will be received by the Maharajah on the following day. At night, Tshunda reports to the Emperor. He has spent the months-long journey well, so that he can inform his Lord fully about the mission.

  ‘Guide the delegation on its return, too, Tshunda.’

  Tshunda bows deeply. ‘I have yet another message, sir. From Taxila to Kashi a young Brahmin travelled along with us. Katchayana. I understood that he was on his way to the capital and was very ill-disposed towards the Mauryas. In Kashi I warned the secret service.’

  ‘They reported it to me from Kashi. You can keep an eye on the delegation. If need be, ask for help from Maskarin.’

  Tshunda leaves and Ashoka summons Maskarin, whom he addressed: ‘Maskarin, in a few days there will come a young Brahmin from Kashi. Katchayana or Katcha. I do not know the purpose of his journey.’

  ‘The brahmacharin from Tirha? I have read a lipi about him at the mahamatrya. He studies in Taxila.’

  ‘Right. He has returned together with the delegation of Bactria up to Kashi and comes to Pataliputra. He is hostile to the Yuvaraja, whose wife he desired when he was living in the house of Santanu. Have him carefully watched.’

  When Ashoka has heard all the informants, he goes to see Asandhimitra. Tishya Rakshita is with her. She goes up to leave but the Maharajah motions for her to stay.

  ‘Today there arrived a delegation from Bactria to Pataliputra, and tomorrow they will be received in the Throne hall.’

  ‘So, the whole court has to be present,’ Asandhi says with a laugh.

  ‘Certainly, it is better to convince foreign sovereigns of our might rather than fight them with wars. Katcha, who was earlier a brahmacharin with Santanu, travelled along with them.’

  ‘And now my Raja is worried about his son!’

  Ashoka smiles. ‘There is one in India who always understands the promptings of my soul, without me having to express them.’

  ‘Do you fear a threat, my Ashoka?’

  ‘Katcha is a sacrificial priest and he hates Kunala.’

  ‘The Brahmin-court disappeared, in its place the Ashokarama rises high over the towers of Pataliputra as a shining symbol of peace.’

  ‘As a wise Rani you are correct; I, as a monarch watching over my people … I can punish Katcha for his evil wrongdoing in Tirha, send him to the mines at the Gandaki.’

  ‘And strengthen his hate.’

  Unwillingly, Ashoka turns away and says sharply: ‘But protect the Yuvaraja from that hatred!’

  Asandhi puts her hand on his arm. ‘The Yuvaraja obviously knows how to defend himself against this young Brahmin.’

  ‘I feel responsible for the happiness of my people. And that is bound up with Kunala’s succession.’

  ‘In the end you are right, noble Maharajah. Certainly, Kunala’s succession is not beyond doubt for you. You do not have absolute faith in fate and the gods.’

  Ashoka always feels that Asandhi understands him. He knows that a weak spot has been revealed in the structure of his government. With great sincerity he has wanted to change the people’s vision on life; he believed that everyone will recognise ‘good’ if it is made clear to them. Anyone, whose vision is opposed to his, is still lacking the correct insight. And the one who has to continue his work should be someone who thinks like him and shares his convictions. Kunala! And so humanity will finally be won over. That is why, when danger threatens his beloved son, he feels like intervening, making him forget how he himself had to conquer endless dangers, and triumphed!

  Neither of them takes notice of the youngest Rani. She has heard about Katcha in Vaishali but never thought again of the rival of the Yuvaraja. It strikes her now even more that he is her kindred spirit in hatred. Like a tiger before its prey, her hatred is always ready to leap, to sate the hunger for vengeance. Her thoughts and desires harden. Will there ever be a chance to meet Katcha? Two people, both filled with passionate love for one another, discover each other as soulmates. Why should not two, whose hatred is equally strong, be driven towards each other? She cannot leave the palace unnoticed while it is not safe for him to enter.

  One day she will meet him. Time will not wear out her thirst for vengeance; only time can help her avenge. Only now does she notice that the Maharajah is looking at her. She starts and smiles at him.

  ‘Well, Tishya, the case touches you, I see. What do you say?’

  ‘Sir, one simple sacrificial priest! You have disposed of thousands.’

  ‘Your word would be a release, Tishya, if Katcha had not by his hatred caused a disaster over all of Tirha.’

  ‘One priest against the Mauryas! Like a wasp against
a horse!’

  ‘Right Tishya, one wasp … and the horseman will crush it!’

  Tishya suddenly feels afraid of the eyes of the mighty Maharajah.

  The following day, the reception for the delegation takes place with all the pomp and panoply of the imperial court. Ashoka appears in white silken attire, glittering with the most precious gems. Kunala is sitting beside the Maharajah, in a less eye-catching but equally expensive raiment. The ministers, Ranis, army commanders, Princes and Princesses give the hall a look of lustre and distinction, no less than that of the courts of Iran and Egypt.

  Beautifully dressed female palace-guards ring the company on the outer columns. Servants with pure white chamara fans wave fresh air towards the Maharajah. Others offer cooling drinks from golden jars. Musicians play soft music on veenas, flutes and whispering drums, as the delegation enters and strides across the open space.

  Orecles stops before the mighty Emperor and the music falls silent. The Greek delivers his eulogy on Ashoka and the King of Bactria in the Greek language. Ashoka answers in Pali, which he has implemented in India with a steady hand as the everyday language of the multifarious peoples. The sarthavaha translates. Then Orecles offers the mighty monarch the gifts of Diodotos. Ashoka thanks him with cordial words and asks him to come during the night to his working quarters, together with Aristes, to talk about the mission.

  The first ministers, Radhagupta and Khallataka—whom Ashoka always addresses in important matters—are present at his request, as well as the Yuvaraja. The sarthavaha places himself beside Orecles as a translator.

  ‘It would please me to listen to the message of your King, highly honoured Orecles.’

  ‘Bactria is a prosperous country, Your Sacred and Gracious Majesty, a country of large forests and delicious fruits, beautiful juicy grapes from which the sweetest smelling wines are made. The Oxus and its tributaries flow through the luxuriant pastures. Our fields cover the valleys with golden grain. Our meadows are home to many sacred cows. Our horses are more beautiful and swifter than those of the neighbouring countries. Our capital has its well trodden roads to Syria, Egypt and Greece, to Chorasmii, the country of the Scyths, China and Tibet, and across the Parapanisads7 to your beautiful India. Our country broke the obligation of tribute to the Seleucides8, when Antiochos destroyed his countries by wars with Ptolomeus Philadelphos from Egypt and the king of Antropatene. Our capital, Zariaspa, is the oldest, the mother of all cities. The whole world sends its caravans with a wealth of goods inside its walls. There is, however, one threat to our peace and prosperity: To the North and the East of our beautiful Bactria live the wild horse-people. Although my brother, King Diodotos, compelled Arsases and his brother Teridates, who freed Parthia from the Seluicides, to flee, he fears the Chorasmeans, the Turanians and the Scyths, with their tremendous troops of horsemen. But they do not threaten only our country, but also your kingdoms of Kabulistan, across the Parapanisads, and Arachosia and Gedrosia, not to mention the Punjab. So, it is in your and Diodotos’ common interest, gracious Maharajah, to form a strong power against the horsemen of the North. Our cavalry is courageous and in large numbers, but you have your powerful war elephants and your archers. Diodotos would like to suggest to you that together we push back the horse-people so that they will be a threat neither to him nor to your Gracious Majesty.’

  ‘Honoured Orecles, I thank your King for the trust that he places in the Maharajah of Aryavarta. I hope that we may be friends for many more years. But tell your King that I led two terrible wars, the first one forced upon me against my own brother, the second because I was threatened by the King of the Kalingas. My mighty armies conquered both. But I experienced the horrors and the degrading shame of causing young flourishing lives to be mowed down like the stalks on your rich fields of grain. Ever since, I have been a serious follower of the Buddha who forbids the destruction of life. I have foresworn war and have discovered a means to settle conflicts in a way that can only honour humanity, by a benevolent and peaceful attitude to life. Around my empire live many peoples. I wish to be friends with them. They should not fear me but trust me. I wish that the noble people of Bactria too will be filled with this same spirit and that this spirit will inspire the horse-peoples at your borders. Why should we not come together and, with benevolence and compassion, do everything to prevent what we would see as ‘the sin of sins’? He, who heeds to the Buddha and understands the beauty of his teachings does not start a war anymore but detests war.’

  ‘I want to praise your noble principles, gracious Maharajah, but preach to the lion that he saves the cow out of compassion, what do you think he will do?’

  ‘The human being has his manas, and in the core of his being the seed of the Supreme with which he can, and must, control the crudeness of nature!’

  ‘Preach to the Turanians, the Scyths, that they drive their horses to the meadows and live in peace with other people? They would applaud if Bactria did so and lost its power but solely so that they then can obtain an easier prey! If they know that you or your successors neglect your armies the barbarians will immediately jump on your empire from all sides.’

  ‘I want to spread the doctrine of the Buddha to the whole world by missions. It is the doctrine of compassion that is from the All-powerful and that finally expresses itself in each human being.’

  ‘The fact that you, noble Maharajah, are a follower of the Buddha proves the greatness of his doctrine. However, our prophet Zarathustra taught us about the good god, Ahura Mazda.9 He is all that is contained in goodness, devotion, diligent land-cultivation and obeisance in the highest sense. But opposing Mazda is the world of Anro Mainyn10 with his evil spirits, the daevas. Sowing grains means practising the law. Where full-grown stalks sway in the wind, the daevas disappear. Our sacred bird is Parodars, the cock, the wake-up caller in the early morning. Mazda is the father of truth and activity; Anro Mainyn the one of deceit and laziness, the source of all evil, injustice, darkness and impurity. The cultivated earth is of Mazda, the wilderness of Anro Mainyn and the daevas. We worship Mazda with offerings and prayer with the sacred fire that lives inside a human being, animal, plant and lightning. The sun is the power of light, which can withstand the daevas. In that way, our religion teaches us, it is a duty to be hard with the enemies, to subjugate the realm of the evil and its servants: The servants-of-the-lie one teaches with the sword!’

  ‘But does ‘teaching with the sword’ not mean provoking a war? You ask me for elephants and archers to drive back the horse-people. That means war for territory, for conquest. It is not the defence of your hearths; it is attack, a deliberate act of war! Therefore, I will never lend my armies! My stand is: teach the servant-of-the-lie the wisdom of the Buddha, do not destroy life needlessly. Look how prosperity and happiness are spreading out their wide wings over my empire. During my life and after I am gone, I hope!’

  ‘Would there then be a possibility that King Diodotos could ask of you a considerable number of elephants, noble Maharajah? It must be reassuring to you that there is a strong kingdom separating you from the barbarians in the North.’

  ‘You will hear my opinion and that of my First Minister Radhagupta, O, Orecles.’

  ‘King Diodotos cannot expect of the sacred Maharajah that he sacrifices part of his strength to foreign sovereigns. The elephants together with the archers are the nucleus of our army. India is blessed with this strength that protects it against every enemy. Who knows whether friendliness towards a good neighbour will not turn against us one day?’

  ‘The priests of Mazda command us to honour honesty, loyalty, truth and purity, noble minister!’

  ‘We have experienced in India, noble Orecles,’ says Khallataka, who until then has kept silent, ‘that the priests in whom one entrusts the noblest of the spirit always bring ruin upon the country, if their self-interest, which they always identify with the will of the godhead, is at stake. Buddhism does not know priests, merely truthful followers of the Buddha, the greatest of human being
s.’

  ‘You, too, have your priests, a young Brahmin told me.’

  ‘He is a sacrificial priest and an enemy of the sacred Maharajah who leads our people to peace and happiness.’

  Orecles keeps silent for a moment. Has not Tshunda told him the same? ‘Purity in the material world, and purity of the inner being, by right thoughts, right words and right deeds. So our priests teach us.’

  ‘No living being should be killed needlessly because all life is sacred, embraced by the compassion of the Buddha.’

  ‘With such lofty principles, noble Maharajah, you surrender your country to the servants of Anro Mainyn.’

  ‘Except when the Dharma is brought to the whole world,’ opines the Emperor. ‘He who understands the Dharma, accepts it. That is my experience in India.’

  ‘Bactria will never give up the beautiful doctrine of Zarathustra for your prophet, the Buddha. But the horse-riding people of Mid-Asia …’ Orecles looks up at the Maharajah with an ominous gaze … ‘they will invade your empire, when the Emperor will no longer be able to fall back upon a great armed force. You refuse Diodotos’ hand and to that you are entitled, it may even be your duty. But one day possibly, India will curse your decision.11 Will the Buddha then remain their prophet, noble Maharajah?’

  ‘King Diodotos wants to annex Sogdiana and Margiana to his kingdom, I have heard, honourable Orecles. I wish friendship with my neighbours but not in the way that I have to join them in taking up arms.’

  Orecles is startled. Then he understands that the Emperor is informed by others as well, not just himself.

  The delegation of Diodotos has long since left the capital. Ashoka did not let the opportunity pass to display the power of his army; even more, the works of peace, including the industrious diligence in the capital, the building of canals for irrigation, and a thriving agriculture. But the emissary of the blatantly expansionist country and the Maharajah could not come to an agreement about the importance of the army in the polity.

  ‘It is an oppressing thought, my Father,’ says Kunala one night, as he reposed in Ashoka’s working chamber. ‘No one who listens to your vision about the change in outlook and attitude of mankind believes in its realisation.’