Is Political Order Redemptive?
The origins of chaos and cannibalism in the human world
Political order is most often taken for granted in our daily lives. While we acknowledge the existence of various institutions and agencies that form the structure and system of a polity, we rarely delve deeper into understanding the foundations of political order. Moreover, there is a tendency to assume that a given political order is unchangeable and resistant to reform. As a result, we unconsciously become entrenched in this established order, depriving ourselves of the awareness needed to examine its fundamentals.
But why do we care about the structure and evolution of political order? Does it matter to our day-to-day life? Are we aware of the good and bad parts of a political order so that we can reform and make it sustainable?
If our answers to these questions hinge on acknowledging that political order is closely interlinked with our history, unique national traits, culture and tradition, and the trajectories of our life paths, then we may need to develop a new perception of political order such that we become proactive in shaping it instead of passively accepting it. It is necessary to remember that when we unwittingly recognize this or that political order, we consent to its moral and ethical foundations without carefully investigating and examining its legitimacy and plausibility.
This claim implies that we may be able to make peace with our moral conscience that we are contributing to a good and just political order, but what if we are wrong and misled by the delicately manufactured and ambiguous reality?
In this context, we can see that our political awakening or consciousness arises when we feel a rupture or a disconnect between our self-conceived identity with the established political order. We may start with this question: is political order restorative and redemptive?
Tamper with the way things are and the warped human nature
Once there was a man called Geng Sangchu1, a disciple of Lao Tzu. He acquired part of the Way of Lao Tzu and lived in the Mountains of Zigzag.
After three years, the people there received a tremendous harvest. And they attributed such a happy result to the work of Geng Sangchu. Everywhere people said to one another, “Why don’t we make him our impersonator of the dead and pray to him, turn over to him our altars of the soil and grain?” (Positioning Geng Sangchu as their actual ruler or protector).
When hearing this news, Geng Sangchu was not pleased. So he explained to his disciples, who were surprised to find out his reaction, “The arrival of spring brings life to all kinds of plants, and when autumn is around the corner, their fruits will ripen. This is the Way of Heaven.”
Geng Sangchu felt guilty about how things had become because he had studied the Taoist way of life for decades. Moreover, he was disturbed that the people there wanted to make him a model for men and name him one of their worthy sages.
Some of Geng Sangchu’s students tried to convince their master that being recognized by the local people was a good thing. They said, “To honor the worthy and assign office to the capable, receiving benefits and recognition in such circumstances, this has been the custom since the ancient days of sages like Yao and Shun (both are saint rulers by Confucian standards). So why not satisfy the demands of the people here?
Geng Sangchu replied, “Yao and Shun do not understand that by promoting men of worth, the people will begin to trample over one another. Employ men of knowledge, and then people will begin stealing from one another. From then onward, people will grow more diligent in pursuing gains and rewards. There will be sons who kill their fathers, ministers who kill their rulers, and brigands who pilfer at noon. The source of great chaos arises from the practices of Yao and Shun. Mark my word: a thousand generations later, there will be people eating one another up!”
The individual mind and political order
One fundamental Taoist idea in Tao Te Ching and Chuang Tzu’s works is a measured critique of saint worship and intellect. As the story of Geng Sangchu shows, Taoists are aware of the problem of being recognized and even worshiped. Why so? Because it is unnatural.
As a Taoist master, Geng Sangchu followed Taoist principles to attend to things as they were and manage human affairs based on his understanding of natural order. He did not conduct himself with the thought of courting acclaim and support from the local people. He just applied his knowledge and experience, which happened to help the harvest there, without intending to be recognized as a leader. His way of living was following the teaching of Taoism, as Tao Te Ching reveals,
The Sage:
Manages affairs without action;
Preaches the doctrine without words;
All things take their rise, but he does not turn away from them;
He gives them life, but does not take possession of them;
He acts, but does not appropriate;
Accomplishes, but claims no credit.
It is because he lays claim to no credit
That the credit cannot be taken away from him2.
Taoist political thinking is rooted in a deep wariness of the dangers associated with the glorification of individuals, whether in the form of saint worship, power worship, or leader worship. An ideal Taoist sage accomplishes tasks for the betterment of their community but remains humble, eschewing personal credit, rewards, and fame. This is the natural thing to do. By adopting this mindset, Taoism provides an antidote to the pitfalls of demagoguery and a political culture centered around bureaucratic power.
Therefore, Taoists maintain a vigilant attitude toward political power, recognizing its potential for abuse and its capacity to distort the human mind. When the pursuit and acquisition of power are widely accepted as desirable, individuals unconsciously compete to attain it. Despite being aware of historical instances in which the misuse of power led to human disasters and tragedies, we are never held back in our pursuit of power. In this sense, Taoism's stance serves as a reminder of the importance of tempering our ambitions and exercising prudence when it comes to wielding political authority.
It is crucial to note that Taoists do not dismiss the use of intellect in a somewhat cynical and mindless way. Instead, Taoism has a holistic view of the beginning, evolution, and consequences of employing intellect to build a political order. If the groundwork of a political order is unstable and flawed, such as centering and elevating the ruler and those in power over the ordinary citizen, it may lead to a top-down governance approach or a centralized model. Despite its seeming efficiency and effectiveness, this arrangement still reveals the untenable and indefensible nature of the political order during times of crisis due to its weak foundation.
Taoist political thinking also attributes the origin of political chaos to meddling with people’s minds with lofty political ideals, ideologies, and anything that may arouse fanatic convictions and actions. Taoist thinkers were highly critical3 of Confucians who propagated doctrines of benevolence and righteousness because they observed that when these teachings became political indoctrination, they often yielded counterproductive outcomes. The emphasis on such doctrines led to a proliferation of self-proclaimed Confucian practitioners vying for public office and political power. In this competitive environment, individuals would assert themselves as being “more” Confucians than their rivals, resulting in uncertainty, chaos, and, in some cases, destruction and tragedy.
In the story above, Geng Sangchu was vigilant of himself being publicly recognized and elevated as a worthy man. This very act of rewarding and worshipping someone for their achievements and capability betrays their original intent of doing something without taking credit. It becomes politically precarious and dangerous when leaders single-mindedly pursue recognition and acclaim for their work.
It also amounts to a typical mistake of misunderstanding the manifestation of the Yang as the normal status of things in the universe. Fortune, honor, and esteem, especially sought after in an unnatural manner, will be accompanied by mishap, disgrace, and denouncement when the circumstances take a turn, with the Yin energy finishing its work accordingly. We do not need to go into detail to explain the danger of placing someone less than a sage at the center of political power and seeing them making political arrangements based on their wishes, preferences, distinctions, and willful discriminations. Political experiments (even the ones with good intentions) due to some presumptuous and radical leaders’ whims and plans will always fail terribly.
For the Taoists, a preferable kind of political order is one in which we do not feel its existence. People become attuned to not attributing their successes and achievements to rulers or political leaders but to something done by themselves. As Tao Te Ching explains the subtle psychological distance people feel between themselves and the established political order,
Of the best rulers
The people only know that they exist;
The next best they love and praise;
The next they fear;
And the next they revile.
When they do not command the people’s faith,
Some will lose faith in them,
And then they resort to oaths!
But (of the best) when their task is accomplished, their work done,
The people all remark, “We have done it ourselves.”4
In this regard, sage rulers attain effective governance through a principle of non-governing5, whereby the political order operates naturally and spontaneously. In such social conditions, individuals who lead balanced lives, refraining from exploiting or pushing the boundaries of the established order, can freely pursue self-fulfillment proper to their talents and aspirations.
This story appeared in “Geng Sangchu,” one of the Miscellaneous Chapters in Chuang Tzu’s works. I made some changes to the original text.
Lin Yutang, “Chapter 2: the rise of relative opposites,” in The Wisdom of Laotse.
Chuang Tzu was empathetic and understanding of true Confucians, particularly their willingness to devote themselves to a bigger ideal, such as building a stable and just political order, than simply self-preservation.
Lin Yutang, “Chapter 17: rulers,” in The Wisdom of Laotse.
Non-governing is very much a political principle of Chuang Tzu. I will discuss this idea in a new reflection piece.
Wow! I have two observations here. The principle of the sage ruler seems to be awfully similar to the idea of the philosopher king of the ancient greco-roman philosophy. I have also seen some parallels in ancient Indian philosophy. I guess there was some wisdom collectively in the political economy of the time that we seem to have forgotten.
Geng Sangchu's prophecy about the development of political power into cannibalism stands eerily accurate in this age of late capitalism, and his opinions (and those discussed in the fourth citation) seem to suggest a political setup of a small goverment running on near anarchist principles.