The Useless Tree

Stand with Chen Guangcheng

Chen Guangcheng, the courageous human rights lawyer in China, who has been subjected to brutal "house arrest" for years, has escaped his captors and is apparently in hiding, perhaps in the US embassy, in Beijing.  Here's what I blogged five and a half years ago:

  Chen Guangcheng believes in the rule of law.  He believes that the law should apply equally to everyone.   He believes that government officials who break the law should be held accountable.  He is performing a civic duty precisely in line with the Communique of the Sixth Plenum [of the 16th Central Committee].  But he has been arrested and brutalized.  His tormentors have made a mockery of the very idea of the rule of law.  And until President Hu Jintao finds the political courage to allow the law to develop in a truly equal and just manner, until he accepts that idea that honest people like Chen Guangcheng have a right and a duty to demand that the law apply to everyone equally, including Communist Party officials, until then the words of the Communique are empty.

Hu Jintao has not had the political courage to do the right thing for all these years.  Nor has Wen Jiabao.  Indeed, Chen, in the midst of his escape, has put out a video directly asking Wen for justice:

 

Let's hope that the Party Center let's him go free.  I fear, however, that that will not be the outcome.  

 In a way, this is a test of whether the Center is willing to embrace something like a Confucian ethic.  I see Chen as a genuinely Mencius-like figure.  He stands consistently for fairness and justice for the powerless, and he is willing to speak up to the powers that be, demanding redress for legal and economic inequality.  And his righteousness is obvious to all who know him. Clearly, the right thing to do is free him from the brutal, illegal, deeply inhumane assaults he has suffered for so long.

But I am afraid the Center will show itself to be the bastion of hard-line Legalism that it has always been.  They will interpret Chen as a challenge to their power and they will find a way to crush him.  Or if they exile him, they will punish those who have supported him.

All we can do is stand in witness and call for justice:

Free Chen Guangcheng!

When "Confucianism" isn't really Confucianism

Alistair J. Nicholas, an expatriate pr exec in Beijing, pens a piece in the China Daily that reflects upon cultural differences between China and the West, especially in corporate workplaces.  There are some useful insights into how to get things done and not make a fool of yourself.  But from the very first paragraph he falls into the unfortunate practice of using the term "Confucianism" as a stand-in for contemporary Chinese culture:

The hierarchical nature of Chinese society and the role of hierarchy in the realm of modern social structures defy explanation to Westerners who come from more egalitarian societies. Even after 12 years of living in China, I am confounded by the continuance of this most Confucian inheritance of China's past.

This is a airly typical statement, hearkening back to the Gellner quote above: Confucianism, in practice (and I want to stress that here: what was practiced as "Confucianism" diverged from certain ethical expectations of "Confucianism"...) authorized hierarchical social and political relationships.  So far nothing out of the ordinary here.

But problems set in when we get statements like this:

Of course, there is a downside to China's strict hierarchical structures in business: namely, that merit may be overlooked - or expected to be overlooked - in the rise to the top of the pyramid.

Confucianism, of course, envisions a meritocracy of sorts, an ethical meritocracy: the morally superior should rule and lead.  And we know who the morally superior are not because of what school they went to or who their daddy is but by their actual performance of right actions.  Moral achievement is not existential, it is performative.  Thus, if hierarchy is obstructing meritocracy that is a sign of the failure of Confucianism, not its consequence.  

Of course, we could argue that Confucianism is still culpable because, in the first instance it authorized hierarchy, which then goes on, in an un-Confucian way, to obstruct meritocracy.  But this strikes me as an unfair critique.  Confucianism stands against unmeritorious hierarchy: this is very much the life's work of Mencius...

Another problem emerges with this statement:

But Chinese hierarchy can result in other unfavorable outcomes if not fully understood. For example, Chinese are reluctant to question or challenge their superiors because they have been brought up to respect their elders and others in authority.

While respect for elders is certainly a Confucian idea, it is not unqualified. If elders and/or superiors are doing the wrong thing, children and subordinates should respectfully point out the problem.  While passages from the Analects could be cited here, I like this excerpt from Mencius:

If you don’t resent a parent’s fault when it’s serious, you’re treating parents like strangers.  And if you resent a parent’s fault when it’s slight, you’re treating parents with abandon.  Treating them like strangers, treating them with abandon – either is no way for a child to honor parents. (12.3)

Children, to really honor parents, should treat them as neither strangers nor with abandon.  They should let parents know when there are problems.

In any event, whatever traditional Chinese culture was, or contemporary Chinese culture is, it cannot be simply reduced to "Confucianism," because there are aspects to the culture, old and new, that clearly run against the grain of Confucian morality. 

Chinese culture has always been more than "Confucianism."

The Pursuit of Happiness

An op-ed in the English edition of the Global Times today asks: Are Chinese people truly miserable? It opens:

"Misery" is a regular word today. From emotions reflected in the media and online, the Chinese sense of misery is increasing while happiness seems to be dwindling. Here are two questions: Firstly, is the sense of misery in Chinese society beyond normal? Secondly, what can the government and society at large do to stop this?

The conclusion is often that most Chinese people feel more miserable than before. As various conflicts break out, the public faces more social evils than before and have more ways to express their distress. Consequently the impression of their lifestyle is badly affected and negative assessments on society are flocking in.

But it is not proper to say the Chinese sense of misery has become unbearable. According to several surveys, Chinese are rather optimistic in their worldview. China is not an angry country or on the cusp of revolution.

I imagine they need to put in that last line about no revolutions to distinguish their argument from the upheavals in North Africa and the Middle East, which are continuing apace.  Beyond that, this piece seems to be a fairly standard reflection on the social and cultural disruptions caused by rapid modernization.  Misery sets in when individuals cannot find a job in the new economy, a place in the new society, or meaning in the new culture.  That misery might be offset by the discovery of new possibilities and an openness to change.  But these sentiments are by no means particular to China.

In raising the "what is to be done?" question, however, the author moves in a decidedly Mencian direction:

However, the government should bear the burden to reduce public misery, bringing dreams and hopes to society and encourage people to move in the right direction. Chinese people should believe that a better life awaits them and that the next generation will embrace a brighter future. People should also be confident in a more democratic and fairer society with less corruption.

Mencius, writing in a time of bewildering change and turmoil, had his own vision of what the government should provide to ensure secure and happy lives for the common people:

.....Let mulberry trees be planted about the homesteads with their five mu, and persons of fifty years may be clothed with silk. In keeping fowls, pigs, dogs, and swine, let not their times of breeding be neglected, and persons of seventy years may eat flesh. Let there not be taken away the time that is proper for the cultivation of the farm with its hundred mu, and the family of several mouths that is supported by it shall not suffer from hunger. Let careful attention be paid to education in schools, inculcating in it especially the filial and fraternal duties, and grey-haired men will not be seen upon the roads, carrying burdens on their backs or on their heads. It never has been that the ruler of a State, where such results were seen - persons of seventy wearing silk and eating flesh, and the black-haired people suffering neither from hunger nor cold - did not attain to the royal dignity.'

Not quite sure how that would translate into contemporary material conditions.  But notice how the op-ed calls for "...a more democratic and fairer society with less corruption."  More democracy!  This is not as surprising as it may seem at first.  The CCP has always contended that the political system it manages is a kind of democracy: a "socialist democracy."  So, there's no real contradiction here between the author and the official ideology, at least not on the surface.

Of course, if the author wants to press for a multi-party, liberal, electoral democracy, well, then, Party censors are standing by to keep those ideas from gaining too much traction in society.

But if the pursuit of happiness that is the goal here, it would seem that a critical apsect of happiness is missing: the individual.  Different persons will calculate happiness in different ways, depending on their circumstances and personalities.  The government, or society, as a whole, cannot provide it for them.  Certain material conditions and social opportunities can be made available, and these might increase the likelihood of happiness for a greater number of people.  But individuals need to have the freedom as well as the wherewithal to create their own happiness. 

That is not a feature of "socialist democracy," but it does have some grounding in ancient Chinese thought, especially Zhuangzi.   As I have mentioned on other occasions, Burton Watson, translator of many ancity texts, including Zhuangzi, understands freedom to be the central theme of Zhuangzi.

And the link between freedom and happiness might best be captured by this passage (Hinton, p. 41):

A marsh pheasant has to walk ten paces for a bite to each and a hundred for a sip of water.  But still wouldn't want to be tamed and put in a cage.  Even treated like a king, it could never be happy and content.

澤雉十步一啄，百步一飲，不蘄畜乎樊中。神雖王，不善也

But that might be too politically incorrect, in the context of CCP power, for op-ed writers at the Global Times...

Mencius in Libya

The rather gruesome public death of Muammar el-Qaddafi, dictator of Libya, has caused some upset in more comfortable political quarters.  And this was the topic of a historically well-informed op-ed in today's NYT by Simon Sebag Montefiore.  He draws comparisons, some fairly grisly, to the fall of other infamous tyrants.  And he suggests that the public killing of a despot might yield a productive political catharsis:

Only death can end both the spell to bewitch and the prerogative to dominate — and sometimes, not even death can snuff out power. “The terror inspired by Caligula’s reign,” wrote Suetonius, “could be judged by the sequel.” Romans were so terrified of the emperor that it was not enough to assassinate him. They wanted to see him dead: fearing it was a trick and lacking cellphone footage, they had to be convinced. The mile-long line of Libyans who were keen to see Colonel Qaddafi’s cadaver in its shop-refrigerator-tomb would understand this perfectly.

It seems that the unjust ruler can sometimes (not always, unfortunately) bring about his own demise.  The bloodier and more capricious his rule, the more terrible the popular reaction, if the people get a chance to respond.  This bring Mencius to mind.  When asked if regicide is legitimate, in 1B.8, he answers (Bloom translation):

One who offends against humaneness is called a brigand; one who offends against rightness is called an outlaw.  Someone who is a brigand and an outlaw is a mere fellow.  I have heard of the punishment of mere fellow Zhou but never the slaying of a ruler.

"Zhou" here is the infamous King Zhou, the final ruler of the Shang dynasty.  He is often referred to as "Tyrant Zhou," one of the great villains of Chinese history, righteously overthrown by virtuous King Wu (things get a bit complicated, King Wu was from a state called "Zhou," a different Chinese character than "Zhou" of King Zhou...).  Mencius is thus saying that evil King Zhou was so bad - a "brigand and an outlaw" - that he had lost the moral authority of rulership.  He was not worthy of any protection from regicide, because he was not a true king.  His violent demise, at the hands of King Wu, was justified as a sort of rectification of names.  That is, if he was not living up to the norms implied by the title "king" he should not be given that title nor the political status and prerogatives that are associated with the title.

Mencius is generally against killing as a means of government.  But in this instance the violent downfall of a tyrant was acceptable.  The bad guy brought it on himself for being so bad for so long.  The people could no longer tolerate the injustice and they struck out against him.

This does not necessarily imply a generalized "right to rebellion" in Menicus.  Nor does it necessarily mean that the "people" are the legitimate agents of this kind of political change.  In 5B.9 he tells us that it is ministers from royal families who have the moral standing to remove bad rulers. 

But 1B.8 reflects a kind of resignation. If tyrants face the people's wrath and die violent deaths, we should not mourn them as fallen kings.  Rather, we should look forward and ask: who will bring humane government to a traumatized land?

Mencius would not feel sorry for Qaddafi.

Thinking of Yueyue and obligations to strangers

The sad story of Wang Yue, widely known as Yueyue - a two-year old girl in Foshan run over by a van, and even run over a second time by another vehicle, and then left to die while uncaring passersby ignored her - has swept across the internet in the past week.  One of the most pointed responses I have seen is the reflection by writer Lijia Zhang.  In trying to understand the tragedy, she writes:

The fundamental problem, in my view, lies in one word that describes a state of mind: shaoguanxianshi, meaning don't get involved if it's not your business. In our culture, there's a lack of willingness to show compassion to strangers. We are brought up to show kindness to people in our network of guanxi, family and friends and business associates, but not particularly to strangers, especially if such kindness may potentially damage your interest.

There is some truth in this.  Guanxi is a powerful thing.  But I want to preempt (and maybe I'm too late for preemption, so this will have to be a kind of resistance..) the lurking assumption that Confucianism is somehow to blame here. 

Now it is true that Confucianism produces a sort of ethical particularism.  Certain obligations are more important than others.  If there is ever a conflict of duties between, say, taking care of our parents and helping others, our family obligations should come first.  Indeed, if there is an apparent conflict between our family obligations and the law, Confucius famously suggests that we should protect our families first.  Analects 13.18 gives us this:

The Governor of She in conversation with Confucius said, "In our village there is someone called 'True Person.'  When his father took a sheep on the sly, he reported him to authorities.

Confucius replied, "Those who are true in my village conduct themselves differently.  A father covers for his son, and a son covers for a father.  And being true lies in this."

Constructing a universal (or universal within the jurisdiction of the state) moral code enforceable by law is thus obstructed by the Confucian call to care for family first.  And this could, when reproduced over time for centuries, engender disregard for obligations we have to strangers.

But we should not stop the consideration of Confucianism there.

In the Analects, Confucius recognizes that, when not confronted with immediate conflicts of obligations, we should treat others as we would want them to treat us.  There is a general sense of moral reciprocity.  Of course, it is stated in negative terms - don't do unto others what you would not want done unto yourself - but the effect is largely the same.  And in the case of Yueyue it would run something like this: don't ignore an injured child in the road because you would not want others to ignore your injured child in the road.  Of the various places in the text where this "golden rule" is expressed, 12.2 might be best in reference to the Yueyue tragedy:

Zhonggong inquired about authoritative conduct (ren).  The Master replied, "In your public life, behave as though you are receiving important visitors; employ the common people as though you are overseeing a great sacrifice.  Do not impose upon others what you yourself do not want, and you will not incur personal or political ill will.

"Though I am not clever," said Zhonggong,  "allow me to act on what you have said.

Notice the "in your public life."  I think this would apply to the passersby in Foshan.  Were they adhering to a Confucian code, they would have helped Yueyue, just as they would help an honored guest who had fallen in their home.

Mencius provides a much fuller justification for obligations to strangers, while maintaining the Confucian understanding that in those cases where obligations clearly conflict, family would come first.  His famous image of a child about to be hurt by falling in a well is painfully apt here.  Here's the Legge translation of 2A6 (Chinese Text Project):

.....When I say that all men have a mind which cannot bear to see the sufferings of others, my meaning may be illustrated thus: even now-a-days, if men suddenly see a child about to fall into a well, they will without exception experience a feeling of alarm and distress. They will feel so, not as a ground on which they may gain the favour of the child's parents, nor as a ground on which they may seek the praise of their neighbours and friends, nor from a dislike to the reputation of having been unmoved by such a thing. From this case we may perceive that the feeling of commiseration is essential to man, that the feeling of shame and dislike is essential to man, that the feeling of modesty and complaisance is essential to man, and that the feeling of approving and disapproving is essential to man. The feeling of commiseration is the principle of benevolence. The feeling of shame and dislike is the principle of righteousness. The feeling of modesty and complaisance is the principle of propriety. The feeling of approving and disapproving is the principle of knowledge. Men have these four principles just as they have their four limbs. When men, having these four principles, yet say of themselves that they cannot develop them, they play the thief with themselves, and he who says of his prince that he cannot develop them plays the thief with his prince. Since all men have these four principles in themselves, let them know to give them all their development and completion, and the issue will be like that of fire which has begun to burn, or that of a spring which has begun to find vent. Let them have their complete development, and they will suffice to love and protect all within the four seas. Let them be denied that development, and they will not suffice for a man to serve his parents with.'

Notice the univerality in the claims: not "some men" or "my family" but "all men have a mind [heart] which cannot bear to see the sufferings of others."  And "all men have these four principles in themselves..."  This is the classic statement of the Mencian belief in good human nature.

I read this as prescriptive as much as it is descriptive.  He is telling us, by asserting this description of human nature, that this is how we should be in the world.  We should act to save the child because we have the capacity for good and we need to enact and express that capacity to reach our full potential for humanity.   That the passersby in Foshan failed to do so, shows them to "play the theif with themselves;" they are not doing what they can and should do.

I want to add another passage from Mencius here (thanks to the reading I am doing with my students this week) to underline the idea that we do have an obligation to treat strangers with compassion and respect.  Here is an excerpt from 4B29 (which is #57 in the Chinese Text Project):

Yu and Ji, in an age when the world was being brought back to order, thrice passed their doors without entering them. Confucius praised them. The disciple Yan, in an age of disorder, dwelt in a mean narrow lane, having his single bamboo-cup of rice, and his single gourd-dish of water; other men could not have endured the distress, but he did not allow his joy to be affected by it. Confucius praised him. Mencius said, 'Yu, Ji, and Yan Hui agreed in the principle of their conduct. Yu thought that if any one in the kingdom were drowned, it was as if he drowned him. Ji thought that if any one in the kingdom suffered hunger, it was as if he famished him. It was on this account that they were so earnest. If Yu and Ji, and Yanzi, had exchanged places, each would have done what the other did. Here now in the same apartment with you are people fighting - you ought to part them. Though you part them with your cap simply tied over your unbound hair, your conduct will be allowable. If the fighting be only in the village or neighbourhood, if you go to put an end to it with your cap tied over your hair unbound, you will be in error. Although you should shut your door in such a case, your conduct would be allowable.'

Notice how Yu and Ji, sages worthy of emulation, took the sufferings of others as if they themselves were suffering.  Bloom's translation suggests that when something bad was happening in the world, they felt as if they themselves were perpetrating the bad act.  Either way, the main point is the same: they identified with the suffering of others, the suffering of strangers, and they longed to make it right.  Clearly, had Yu or Ji been in that street in Foshan, they would have rushed to Yueyue's aid.

What happened, in the sad case of Yueyue, was not, then, simply a product of Confucian culture; it was a failure to live up to the moral expectations of Confucian culture.  To my mind the only legitimate Confucian justification for non-action in this case would be if there were clear conflict with family obligations.  And by "clear" I mean something more than the perverse incentives created by contemporary law.  The possibility of some sort of legal entanglements in the future should not have obstructed immediate resopnse in such a dire case.  Or, at least, that is my sense of what Mencius would say here....

Mencius: Now more than ever

Rising socio-economic inequality is a heated topic of discussion in China.  China Digital Times links to several pieces about growing resentment toward the increasingly base and brazen nouveaux riches. This is not a new story.  Economic growth in China has come at the cost of growing inequality.  Suisheng Zhao summarizes the political implications nicely:

China now has one of the most unequal income distributions in the world, with a Gini coefficient of 0.50 in 2009, even higher than the United States, at 0.46. This alarming inequality has come as China has dismantled its social welfare structures, leaving hundreds of millions of people with minimal or no provision of healthcare, unemployment insurance, and other social services. These growing gaps are at the root of social unrest, that threatens political stability, an accepted pre-condition for economic development. Coercive force has been deployed with increasing frequency to suppress popular unrest. This year, the financial cost of ‘maintaining stability’ (维稳) is estimated to have outstripped the size of the defence budget. The dramatically rising costs of maintaining internal control have raised questions about the sustainability of the China model, which is based on the wrong assumption that economic growth trumps all else. If the government takes care of economic growth the assumption is, people will be willing to give up all moral and other demands.

As economic growth has delivered the essentials of living, Chinese people appear, in fact, to be expressing greater demand for social justice and protection of their rights. So it is increasingly difficult to contain or discourage social discontent through economic growth alone.

Whether increased repression is sustainable or political reform of some sort is inevitable are big questions.  I want to turn in a different direction, however: how current socio-economic inequalities in China violate Confucian justice norms as expressed by Mencius.

To begin, we must first acknowledge that Mencius is not, by any means, a radical egalitarian.  He clearly recognizes that variations in talents and abilities will create divergent life chances for different individuals.  Perhaps most famously, he approvingly quotes an anonymous source:

Some use their minds to work, and some use their muscles.  Those who use their minds govern, and those who use their muscles are governed.  Those who are governed provide for those who govern, and those who govern are provided for by those who are governed. 

A pretty clear political hierarchy based upon socio-economic difference.  And just in case we didn't get the point, Mencius ends this same chapter with a paragraph that begins: "But inequality is in the very nature of things."

Alright then.  Mencius is not a Digger.  But while accepting a certain level of inequality as just and right, he strenuously argues against wealth gaps that are too great.  Some inequality is acceptable, even good; too much inequality is inhumane.  And the extent of inequality in China today would would certainly be seen by Mencius as excessive and immoral.

The first chapter of  Mencius gives us several examples.  Here's one:

Emperor Hui of Liang said: "I'm ready to be taught without resenting int."

"Is there any difference between killing someone with a stick or killing them with a sword?" began Mencius.

"No, there's no difference."

"And killing with a sword or a government - any difference?"

"No difference."

"There's plenty of juicy meat in you kitchen and plenty of well-fed horses in you stable," continued Mencius, "but the people here look hungry, and in the countryside they're starving to death.  You're feeding humans to animals.  Everyone hates to see animals eat each other,and an emperor is the people's father and mother - but if his government feeds humans to animals, how can he claim to be the people's father and mother?"...

This might seem to suggest that only the most extreme inequality - lots of food for some, starvation for others - merits any Mencian concern.  But notice how government is tied into the argument.  Since it is the ruler he is addressing, and that ruler is the executive power of the government of that time, it is government, through its wrong-headed policies, that is "feeding humans to animals."

Elsewhere in chapter one, we get a fuller sense of government's responsibility to address inequality.  When talking with Emperor Hsuan of Ch'i, Mencius suggests that even more moderate levels of inequality should be of concern and he provides a guide for public policy.  Government, he argues, should "secure the people's livelihood;" that is, intervene in society to make sure everyone has sufficient material existence to fulfil their familial and social duties in dignity, to "serve their parents or nurture their wives and children." And he tells us what is required for that:

If you want to put my words into practice, why not return to fundamentals? When every five-acre farm has mulberry trees around the farmhouse, people wear silk at fifty.  And when the proper seasons of chickens and pigs and dogs are not neglected, people eat meat at seventy.  When hundred-acre farms never violate their proper seasons, even large families don't go hungry.  Pay close attention to the teaching in village schools, and extend it to the child's family responsibilities - then, when their silver hair glistens, people won't be out on the roads and paths hauling heavy loads.  Our black-haired people free of hunger and cold, wearing silk and eating meat in old age - there have never been such times without a true emperor.

That strikes me as a fairly extensive policy agenda.  One that requires serious governmental attention to inequality well before we get to conditions of starvation.  As such, a contemporary Mencian could only look at China today and condemn the glaring inequalities that now stalk the land....

(photo from ChinaSmack, "Elderly, Women, and Children Left Behind in China's Countryside.")

The Irrepublicans

The debates about raising the debt ceiling are heating up.  For someone of my age and background the whole thing is rather extraordinary.   It used to be that the Republicans were reliably the party of finance capital, making sure that Wall Street was well cared for and that creditors were protected.  They would complain about profligate Democrats who threatened to upset the bond markets.  Responsibility, for Republicans, was all about maintaining market stability, and if tax increases were necessary to do that, then that is what you did (see: Reagan, and Bush I...). 

But something happened on the way to the tea party.  Republicans are now split between the old defenders of finance capital (who must be going crazy along about now...) and the newly energized petty bourgeoisie, obsessed with self-contradictory anti-government, anti-tax ideology (self-contradictory because so many of them rely on various government programs that they, in theory, detest...).  The rhetorical and political momentum within the Republican party seems to have shifted in the direction of the latter, and their intransigence on tax questions has brought us to the brink of default, which would, of course, be disastrous not only for many average citizens but for finance capital.  Lots of tension in those Republican caucus meetings...

Now, maybe the big capitalist creditors should absorb the hurt of default, or whatever policy actions will be taken to avoid formal default.  But I am thinking that that won't happen.  If we really do move past the August 2nd deadline and onward into the financial unknown, I suspect that the little people - many tea partiers, too! - will bear the brunt of the adjustment.  That's what power is about...

Whatever the case, the petty bourgeois fanatics in Congress are threatening the livelihoods and prospects of many, many people in order to preserve their ideological purity on tax increases.  Given the circumstances, those who can afford to pay more, should pay more; taxes on the wealthiest, who, after all gain the most from the current system, should be raised. Take a little from finance capital in order to save finance capital and keep the system from collapsing - since the effects of collapse will affect many more than just finance capital.

But the Republicans can't seem to do it.  They have abandoned their old sense of responsibility.  They have become Irrepubilcans...

That, at least, is what Mencius would say (you knew I had to work the ancient Chinese philosophy in here somewhere...).  He would see them as irresponsible, since, from his point of view, when economic inequality is growing, the rich should take it upon themselves to help out the poor.  Generally speaking, Mencius is a proponent of low taxes - his well field system  was the basis for his understanding that tax rates should be one part in nine, or about 11%.  But his sense of equality is as important as any particular tax rate.  One of the great virtues of the well field system is that it applied an equal standard that could be applied to everyone.  So maybe Mencius would be an advocate today for a flat tax....  

If, however, we take his concern for countering economic inequality seriously, and I think we should, then it could be that the pursuit of equality would require some adaptations to tax policy.  Maintaining something like Medicare and Medicaid would be important for Mencius, since they allow a certain dignity in later life for the elderly.  Funding education would also be important for him.  Military spending, not so much - he would press for considerable reductions in defense spending.  But if policies that alleviated economic inequalities (not eradicate them, but simply ameliorate the worst differences) required more than a 11% tax rate, Mencius would require the rich to pay more.  He recognized that taxes can be too high, but also that taxes can be too low.  When discussing the "northern barbarians" (i.e. those uncivilized and uncultured, without sufficient governing institutions), he said:

If our rulers levy tax rates below that prescribed by the Way of Yao and Shun [ancient sage kings], they'll be nothing but barbarians great and small.  And if our rulers levy tax rates above that prescribed by the Way of Yao and Shun, they'll be nothing but tyrant Chiehs great and small. (227)

In determining appropriate tax rates, especially in a modern, industrial/post-industrial economy, Mencius would be open to debate and compromise.  He would not stick doggedly to the 11% rate that made sense for an ancient, agricultural society.  He would resist ideological rigidity:

The problem with clinging to a single doctrine is that it plunders the Way: to glorify the one, you cast out a hundred. (245)

Bottom line: the current financial situation threatens the economy and the livelihood of many people, something that would exacerbate already bad economic inequalities.  Under such circumstance the responsible, Mencian approach would be to ask the rich to do more.  But the Republicans can't see that.... they're Irrepublicans....

 

How Mencius Undermines Tyrants

I was reminded today of Mencius as I read this op-ed piece in the NYT: "How Tyrants Endure".  

First a bit of background...

Mencius is associated with the concept of "right of rebellion:" if a ruler is behaving badly, then some people can justifiably remove that ruler from power.  Historically  debate has raged about whether this implies a generalized popular "right of rebellion," in which the "people" can and should rise up against a tyrant, or if Mencius simply means that a more restricted sector of society - the leading families, the aristocracy, the royal ministers, etc. - are the only ones who can and should rightfully act against a despot.  I tend to accept the latter, more restricted interpretation of Mencius, especially in light of Justin Tiwald's work.  

But beyond the justification for removing bad rulers from power, Mencius provides a somewhat more subtle and, perhaps, powerful assault against tyrannical abuses of power.  And we can see this when reflecting on the NYT piece.  Here is what the authors, Bruce Bueno De Mesquita and Alastair Smith say:

Despotic rulers stay in power by rewarding a small group of loyal supporters, often composed of key military officers, senior civil servants and family members or clansmen. A central responsibility of these loyalists is to suppress opposition to the regime. But they only carry out this messy, unpleasant task if they are well rewarded. Autocrats therefore need to ensure a continuing flow of benefits to their cronies.

If the dictator’s backers refuse to suppress mass uprisings or if they defect to a rival, then he is in real trouble. That is why successful autocrats reward their cronies first, and the people last. As long as their cronies are assured of reliable access to lavish benefits, protest will be severely suppressed. Once the masses suspect that crony loyalty is faltering, there is an opportunity for successful revolt. Three types of rulers are especially susceptible to desertion by their backers: new, decrepit and bankrupt leaders.

This sentence is especially important: "That is why successful autocrats reward their cronies first, and the people last."  It brings a rather famous passage from Mencius to mind:

Mencius said: "The people are the most precious of all things.  Next come the gods of soil and grain.  The sovereign matters least." (14.14/7B.14)

Indeed, throughout the book that bears his name, Mencius is constantly presented as challenging rulers to share their wealth with the people, to ensure that economic inequalities do not grow too onerous, and to limit their personal consumption, as well as that of their families and immediate political supporters, all in the interest in preserving "the most precious of all things."  We can read this as a kind of socio-economic welfarism but, as De Mesquita and Smith suggest, it also has profound political implications.  If taken seriously, and actually implemented, serving the people would limit an autocrats capacity to pay off the military, the bureaucracy and other key political supporters.  From the Menican point of view, a ruler has to be willing to weaken his own political base, in order to create the conditions for longer term political stability, on the belief that when people can see that their material conditions are improving they will continue to support the leader who has contributed to their prosperity.

The Mencian call for the people to come first, therefore, is a direct challenge to the typical, short-term political strategy of authoritarians.

The recent Jasmine Revolution that has swept across North Africa and the Middle East bears Mencius out.  Mubarak and Gaddafi and Asad and others had not placed the people first. Their political strategies, as De Mesquita and Smith argue, focused on directing scarce economic resources to their political cronies.  This worked for a while, a fairly long while in many cases.  But, in the end, especially as resources became more and more scarce due to global recession, the people became desperate enough to protest and, just as importantly, the old cronies grew skeptical that the autocrats could continue to pay them off.  Et Voila!  The dictators faced political crisis. 

Had these rulers read Mencius, perhaps they would have come to understand that paying off cronies in the short term is not only unjust, but also a recipe for political failure in the longer term.

This is not a "right of rebellion" argument.  Rather, it is a warning to dictators: if you do not let go of your own personal political interest in maintaining power, if you insist upon diverting scarce resources to political supporters, you will ultimately face ignominy.  In ruling, if the interests of the sovereign are placed first, the regime will be unstable and liable to crisis and breakdown.

A Mencius Moment

Work is piling up again. Time is fleeting - not enough of it to blog as much as I would like.  But here is a thought from Menicus, whom we are reading in my tutorial this week.  No need for commentary, just his words:

Mencius said: "The ten thousand things are all there in me.  And there's no joy greater than looking within and finding myself faithful to them.  Treat others as you would be treated.  Devote yourself to that, for there's no more direct approach to Humanity. 13.4

Killing Chinese People

Frank Dikotter has a new book out about the Great Leap Forward, Mao's Great Famine: The History of China's Most Devastating Catastrophe.  I haven't read it yet (mine is on order) but early reviews are in.  Here's Jonathan Mirsky:

In brutal fact, between 1959 and 1962, at least forty-three million Chinese died during the famine [Edgar] Snow didn't bother to see. Most died of hunger, over two million were executed or were beaten or tortured to death, the birth rate halved in some places, parents sold their children, and people dug up the dead and ate them.

The cause of this disaster, the worst ever to befall China and one of the worst anywhere at any time, was Mao, who, cheered on by his sycophantic and frightened colleagues, decreed that before long China's economy must overtake that of the Soviet Union, Britain and even the US. Mao suggested that 'When there is not enough to eat people starve to death. It is better to let half of the people die so that the other half can eat their fill,' and declared that anyone who questioned his policies was a 'Rightist', a toxic term eventually applied to thirteen million Party members.

Here is Jonathan Fenby:

...By digging into the records, Dikötter provides a detailed litany of the degree of suffering the Great Helmsman unleashed and the inhumane manner in which his acolytes operated. Horrors pile up as he tells of the spread of collective farms and the vast projects that caused more harm than good and involved the press-ganging of millions of people into forced labour. As the pressure mounted to provide the all-powerful state with more and more output, the use of extreme violence became the norm, with starvation used as a weapon to punish those who could not keep up with the work routine demanded of them. The justice system was abolished. Brutal party cadres ran amok. "It is impossible not to beat people to death," one county leader said.

Some contemporary Chinese nationalists try to rationalize the Leap as somehow necessary for China's modernization and ascent.  That is rubbish.  It was a totally unnecessary assault on Chinese farmers and citizens.  Dikotter's book reminds us that Mao did vast damage to the country and its people.  The Chairman was a deeply inhumane man and ruler, one whom Mencius would certainly denounce:

"There's plenty of juicy meat in your kitchen and plenty of well-fed horses in  your stable," continued Mencius, "but the people here look hungry, and in the countryside they're starving to death.  You're feeding humans to animals.  Everyone hates to see animals eat each other,and an emperor is the people's father and mother - but if his government feeds people to animals, how can he claim to be the people's father and mother?" (1.1)

We might amend Mencius' words here.  What Mao did was tantamount to feeding people to the Party,  he killed them to maintain the power of the CCP, the institution he led, that gave him  his power, and which carried out the horrible work of the GLF.