BUT what is a philosophy of peace? Peace is an ever-present condition of living, rather than the abstract condition to be devoutly wished for in some distant utopia. Peace is normal, as health is normal. We have to have a philosophy in which we believe that peace is positive and not merely the absence of conflicts and wars—a negative ideal. Peace is rich, peace is satisfying, peace is growth and movement and action and life. Peace is as natural as harmony because it is the normal way of man; man rejects war as he intuitively rejects discord or dissonance in music. And the psychology of domestic peace, national peace, and world peace cannot be very different—it is merely the harmony of social relationships. For that harmony of social relationships there is a technique. Human philosophy should occupy itself exclusively with that technique of social harmony.
Naturally, I have been searching in Chinese thought for elements that might be contributions to the philosophy of world peace. Human society in China is on the whole no better than human society in the West. There are squalor, poverty, quarrels, corruption, selfishness, and social injustice. There are as many reactionaries in China as in the West, only a little less appeasers in high places. The thought causes a shudder. After all, the man who deals with Darlan must envy Laval, who can deal direcdy with Hider. Both proceed on the principle of expediency at the sacrifice of principles, but after all the man who deals with an accessory must envy the man who is able to deal with the principal. Man in China acts both on “principle” (ching) and on “expediency” (ch’üan), both fully recognized by Confucian teachers. But somehow he still believes in moral principles and values and their validity in practical action.
Where China utterly differs from the West are the three contempts: the contempt for the soldier, the contempt for the the police, and the contempt for lawyers. China has lived for 4,000 years without police and lawyers, and the soldier is despised. It is an unmathematical way of life, arising from contempt for the mathematical way of thinking.
Evidently, here is a new approach. The Chinese believe that when there are too many policemen, there can be no individual liberty, when there are too many lawyers, there can be no justice, and when there are too many soldiers, there can be no peace. Peace can be obtained only by putting the government in reverse. Since this is a world of mixed characters, let there be a government to put a few fellows in jail. That is all the government exists for. True justice is obtained by settlement out of court, and true peace is obtained when soldiers are unseen, unheard of, and unknown. Ultimately the problem of peace is the problem of general education in good manners and music.
I am not joking when I say that this is the basic teaching of Confucianism. It is the central, basic, and fundamental teaching of Confucian philosophy, which merges political and moral problems into one. For this is the strangest outcome of the reputed Confucian good sense—government by good manners and by music. Americans, who are intensely practical, may agree that government by police, particularly secret police, is highly repellent. They may agree that government by law, though workable, may be slightly inadequate and fall short of the highest ideal. They know that government by a series of verbotens in the Prussian style is not good enough for the democratic individual, and that the good life is something more than obeying a series of “Thou shalt not’s.” They know that in a mature, full-grown democracy, peace and order ultimately depend on the decency and self-respect of the individual.
I like Americans best when I see them breaking laws and regulations, when I see at a movie theater that the audience’s sympathy is with the stowaway and not with the law-upholding captain, and when I see on the trains between Washington and New York people smoking in every car marked “No Smoking.” These are born democrats, I say. When the situation gets bad enough, it is not the Herr Conductor that will stop it, but the public, by somebody writing to the New York Times pleading against the danger of ashes burning babies’ arms. If the public does not mind, neither will the American conductor. But imagine a Prussian crowd smoking in a car where smoking is verboten! They just can’t do it, and that is why the Weimar Republic fell and the Frankfurter Zeitung turned tail and they needed a Hitler. Put a Hitler over an American crowd to tell them not to do this and not to do that, and see the result. He would not survive three months before his head was smashed. Democracy’s reply to Prohibition was the speakeasies. The history of the speakeasies is the glorious history of exactly how much the American people would stand for verbotens, and of how they would obey even laws passed by themselves! I take off my hats to these Americans, because they are like my own people, the Chinese. You can’t “prohibit” the Americans, nor can you the Chinese. An official prohibition to do a thing is an invitation to a Chinese to do it. Long live the identity of our causes!
Even so, the practical Americans must doubt Confucius’ reputation for common sense when they hear of his proposal to govern a country by music. Only a Saroyan could have said a thing like that. Nevertheless, I maintain that Confucius was quite sane, as I shall try to show. Confucius actually “sang in the rain.”13 Confucius did say it, and said it time and again all his life. Such was his precept about government and his emphasis on worship and song that one of his disciples took his words literally. When Confucius one day approached a city where his disciple, Tseyu, had been made magistrate, he heard public singing going on in the squares.
Confucius grinned and said to Tseyu, “You are killing a chicken with a big cleaver for killing a cow.” “But I heard from you,” replied Tseyu, “that when the superior man had learned culture, he would become kind and when the common man learned culture, he would become self-disciplined.” Confucius turned to the other disciples and said, “You fellows, what he says is right. I was only pulling his leg!”14
I have chosen this aspect of Confucianism to show, by way of contrast, the Confucian emphasis on spiritual values, and to reveal the devastating inadequacy of the economic solution for peace. The adolescent idea that peace can be achieved by a mechanical distribution of goods, its crudity and its inadequacy, will become apparent. We must soon come to the position of admitting that the man who talks of music and spiritual harmony is not just a moron, and refuse to believe that only the man who talks of canned goods is “practical.” If practical good sense means preoccupation with material realities of food and clothing and shelter, that decidedly is not a characteristic of Confucianism.
Of the factors of government, Confucius had this to say:
Tsekung asked about government, and Confucius replied, “People must have sufficient to eat; there must be a sufficient army; and there must be faith in the nation.” “If you were forced to give up one of these three factors, what would you go without?” asked Tsekung. Confucius said, “I would go without the army first.” “And if you were forced to go without one of the two remaining factors, which would you rather go without?” asked Tsekung again. “I would go without sufficient food. There have always been deaths in every generation, but a nation without faith cannot stand.”15
Since the psychology of peace is the same, whether it be domestic, national, or world peace, the factors of such a peace, according to Confucius, may be appropriately examined here. We have been used to treating politics as a separate problem, as strictly a problem of the machinery of administration, cut apart from morals. Confucianism envisages the government as only one of the four factors of bringing about social order, “rituals, music, punishments and administration”; in fact, it is always contemptuous of a purely political solution as such. Only so can we understand the fantastic theory of government by music. The conception of peace is more than the mechanics of keeping good men out of jail and bad men in it; it is related to true manhood and to social and national health, in which music seems the best and most natural fruition of culture. It almost seems that the enjoyment of music provides the aim and end and raison d’être of culture itself.
For so are the nature and function of government and the nature of domestic, national, and world peace conceived:
It follows, therefore, that to govern a country without li (rituals, and the principle of moral order) is like tilling a field without a plough. To observe li without basing it on the standard of right is like tilling the field and forgetting to sow the seeds. To try to do right without cultivating knowledge is like sowing the seeds without weeding the field. To cultivate knowledge without bringing it back to the aim of true manhood is like weeding the field without harvesting it. And to arrive at the aim of true manhood without coming to enjoy it through music is like harvesting and forgetting to eat the harvest. To enjoy true manhood through music and not arrive at complete harmony with nature is like eating and not becoming well fed, or healthy.
When the four limbs are well developed and the skin is clear and the flesh is full, that is the health of the body. When the parents and children are affectionate, the brothers are good towards one another and the husband and wife live in harmony, that is the health of the family. When the higher officials obey the law and the lower officials are honest, the officers have regulated and well-defined functions and the king and ministers help one another on the right course, that is the health of the nation. When the Emperor rides in the carriage of Virtue, with Music as his driver, when the different rulers meet one another with courtesy, the officials regulate one another with law, the scholars urge one another by the standard of honesty, and the people are united in peace, that is the health of the world. This is called the Grand Harmony (tashun).16
From such a picture of world peace as the Grand Harmony, it is clear that peace is not the absence of conflicts, but the healthy result of a number of cultural forces. It is easy to understand therefore why a political solution is necessarily inadequate and shallow in the “governing” of a country. Government is more than governing—hence the role of rituals and music. The four factors of social order work for a common goal. “Li (rituals), music, punishments and administration have a common goal, which is to bring about unity in the people’s hearts, and carry out the principles of political order.”
The defense of government by music in Liki (chapter “On Music”) is made in curiously psychological terms. Rituals and music help to achieve this social harmony by establishing the right likes and dislikes, or what we call good taste in the people. Social and political chaos comes from certain unregulated desires. Ultimately, there can be peace only when there is peace in the human heart; it cannot be imposed from without. These psychological facts showing the origins of world chaos are still true today:
The nature of man is usually quiet, but when it is affected by the external world, it begins to have desires. With the thinking mind becoming conscious of the impact of the material world, we begin to have likes and dislikes. When the likes and dislikes are not properly controlled and our conscious minds are distracted by the material world, we lose our true selves and the principle of Reason in nature is destroyed. When man is constantly exposed to the things of the material world which affect him and does not control his likes and dislikes, then he is overwhelmed by the material reality and becomes dehumanized or materialistic. When man becomes dehumanized or materialistic then the principle of Reason in nature is destroyed and man is submerged in his own desires. From this arise rebellion, disobedience, cunning and deceit, and general immorality. We have then a picture of the strong bullying the weak, the majority persecuting the minority, the physically brave going for violence, the sick and crippled not being taken care of, and the aged and the young and helpless not cared for. This is the way of chaos.
The people are therefore controlled through the rituals and music instituted by the ancient kings . . . the rituals regulate the people’s feelings; music establishes harmony in the sounds of the country; the administration orders their conduct and the punishments prevent crimes. When rituals, music, punishments and administration are all in order, the principles of political order are complete.
We are now in a position to follow the close connection between music and rituals and good government—a good government based on good taste.
Music unites, while rituals differentiate. Through union, the people come to be friendly toward one another, and through differentiation, the people come to learn respect for one another. If music predominates, the social structure becomes too amorphous, and if rituals predominate, social life becomes too rigid. To bring the people’s inner feeling and external conduct into balance is the work of rituals and music. The establishment of rituals gives a well-defined sense of order and discipline, while the general spread of music and song establishes the general atmosphere of peace among the people. When good taste is distinguished from bad taste, then we have the means of distinguishing the good from the bad people, and when violence is prevented by the criminal law and the good men are selected for office, then the government becomes stable and orderly. With the doctrine of love for teaching affection, and the doctrine of duty for teaching moral rectitude, the people will then have learned to live in a moral order.
Music comes from the inside, while rituals come from the outside. Because music comes from the inside, it is characterized by quiet and calm. And because rituals come from the outside, they are characterized by formalism. Truly great music is always simple in movement, and truly great rituals are always simple in form. When good music prevails, there is no feeling of dissatisfaction, and when proper rituals prevail, there is no strife and struggle. When we say that by mere bowing in salute the king can rule the world, we mean thereby the influence of rituals and music. When the violent elements of a nation are kept quiet, the different rulers come to pay homage, the military weapons are locked up, the five classes of punishments are not brought into use, and the people have no worries and the Emperor has no anger, then truly music has prevailed. When the parents arid children are affectionate toward one another, the juniors respect the elders, and this respect is extended to all people in the country, and the Emperor himself lives such an exemplary life, then we may truly say that li has prevailed.”
The constant contrasts of rituals and music as instruments of social and political order are philosophic and quite revealing and must help to correct the impression that practical Confucianism deals only with kitchen pots and pans, or can ever descend to the level of economic thought which reduces civilization and progress to the two questions of alimentation (“a quart of milk”) and elimination (the flush toilet). “Truly great music shares the principle of harmony with the universe, and truly great ritualism shares the principle of distinctions with the universe.” Again, “Music expresses the harmony of the universe, while rituals express the order of the universe. Through harmony all things are influenced, and through order all things have their proper place.” Or again, “Music illustrates the primordial forces of nature, while rituals reflect the products of the creation. Heaven represents the principle of motion, while Earth represents the principle of rest, and these two principles of motion and rest permeate life between Heaven and Earth. Therefore, the Sage tal\s about rituals and music.”
Finally we arrive at the perception of the profound truth concerning the creation of harmony, and the basis of a great nation. “Therefore, the superior man tries to create harmony in the human heart by a rediscovery of human nature, and tries to promote music as a means to the perfection of human culture. When such music prevails and the people’s minds are led toward the right ideals and aspirations, we may see the appearance of a great nation.”
Confucius, I am sure, shares with me the impatience with the techniques of alimentation and elimination as the means for solving the present world chaos and planning a world peace. We are miserably mistaken if we think that Asiatics can be satisfied with the white man’s canned goods. What they prize are the empty cans because they have a tinkling sound which pleases the ear and a shining luster which pleases the soul. For their food, they prefer bananas.
13 See the piece “Confucius Singing in the Rain,” With Love and Irony, p. 167.
14 The Wisdom of China and India, pp. 821-822.
15 Ibid., p. 839.
16 For this and the following quotations, see Wisdom of Confucius (Modern Library), pp. 239-240, and 252-261.