50.
Now came a time when King Yudhishthira,
with his family and Krishna listening,
sat, day after day, at Bhishma’s feet
receiving knowledge and the profound wisdom
gained in a life of dedicated service
to the house of Bharata.
The new king
had spent all he had to gain the kingdom
and now, even though he had found peace
from the worst pangs of self-doubt and remorse,
he suffered still. Restless, he paced his rooms
night after sleepless night. How could he ever
be a ruler great enough to justify
the enormity of what the throne had cost:
the frightful slaughter, all the broken lives—
children who would not, now, have a father
to launch them in the world; nubile women
whose beds would be perpetually cold.
Although he yearned to have no part of power,
longed for the solace of renunciation,
he had accepted that there was no escape
from royal obligation. In that spirit,
therefore, he had come to learn from Bhishma.
Whatever questions the young king put to him,
all his fears, all his perplexities,
the patriarch had patient answers for him.
And, to breathe life into the dry bones
of abstract principle, he told stories
of brahmins, gods, of legendary rulers
and of mythic animals and birds.
“All-wise Grandfather,” said Yudhishthira,
“people say kingship is the highest calling.
To me, it is a burden—yet I know
that for a people to pursue in peace
the goals of merit, wealth, and enjoyment
their king must perform his royal duties.
If he does not, the kingdom will be ravaged
by evil and confusion. A king’s rule
acts like the tether that keeps an unschooled horse
from running wild. So please enlighten me—
what are the crucial duties of a king?”
“My son,” said Bhishma, “first you must understand
that only a man devoted to the gods
and generous to brahmins will succeed
in following the dharma of a king.
But do not suppose that supernatural help
will be available if you yourself
do not engage in energetic effort.
Both these are necessary: human striving
and blessings from the gods. But of these two
effort is most crucial—when informed
by a strong, unwavering devotion
to the highest reality.
“The brahmins
are the most important people in this world.
They are the guardians of timeless wisdom
acquired through study and through lifelong practice
of meditation and austerities,
as well as through their virtuous former lives.
They should be treated with the highest honor
as their attainments benefit us all.
At each important moment of our lives,
at times of change, of joy and desolation,
at our point of entry into the world
and at our leaving it, the ancient prayers
and rituals the brahmins perform for us
ease our spiritual pilgrimage
through this world and the next.
“With that support
the king can function as a man of action.
From time to time, this question is debated:
does the age produce the king, or the reverse?
Have no doubt—the king creates the age.
When a king rules following his dharma,
wielding the rod of royal authority,
society runs smoothly, as it should.
The gods are worshiped properly, the crops
are plentiful, the people are contented.
All is harmonious in heaven and earth.
“A bad or foolish king will bring about
an age inferior in every way:
sinful, confused, tormented by disasters.
A good king makes the world a better place
in small ways, and in great. His righteousness
sustains morality; the rituals
which he supports construct and integrate
the very cosmos. For him, the right path
is not pursuit of personal liberation
and does not lead to renunciation.
Rather, it takes him to the heart of conflict
and complexity, where those he governs
depend on him for justice and protection.
That is your lonely path, Yudhishthira.
“I know the memory of war still haunts you
and that inclines you to be lenient
toward your subjects. Yes, you can by all means
cherish your people. But you should be careful—
kindness is not always the best policy.
Kindness to one person may directly lead
to suffering for another. Never think
only of your personal inclination,
but of how you are seen—of how the office
of king is served, or not, by your decisions.
The king’s every action will be assessed
by the people, according to their lights.
Be guided by the Vedas; royal justice
should neither be too harsh nor too indulgent
but should strike a balance between the two,
moderate, as the sun is in the spring.
In that way, you will earn respect and honor.
“Brahmins will help you; seek out their advice.
But you must be aware—not every brahmin
is what he seems, or what he ought to be.
Some may be deviant, seek to undermine
your authority and harm the kingdom.
Such men should not be physically chastised,
but should be banished to some distant spot,
cut off from the temptations of intrigue.
A king should punish all, even his teachers,
who work against his interests and act wrongly.
“A king’s servants cannot be his friends.
Do not allow familiarity,
joking, and so on. They should never think
it is their place to question your decisions
or offer opinions. If they do, then soon
they will be running things at court their way
and boasting that the king seeks out their views.
Then they’ll start stealing from the royal coffers,
riding the king’s horses, wearing his clothes,
resenting his orders—imagine where it ends!
Clear boundaries make everyone contented.
“A good king sustains the social order
and he judiciously administers
the public purse. He ought to recognize
his people’s right to property, and should not
high-handedly deprive them of it. That way
they will respect him. A good king is steady,
free from fits of anger or despair.
He is self-disciplined, fair in his dealings.
His people move in safety round his kingdom
as children do within their father’s house.
Protection is the principal advantage
every subject looks for in their ruler.
“If he is to carry out his duties
the king has to survive, and that entails
a sharp awareness of his enemies,
both those who may surround him every day
and those in other kingdoms with an interest
in attacking his. While avoiding
morbid distrustfulness, he should be watchful,
astute; never underestimate
the harm that can be done by hostile men.
Even a weak ill-wisher can do damage,
as a small fire can become an inferno.
Think ahead, listen to your spies, store up
provisions against hard times. Gain support
among the people through your virtuous conduct.
A kingdom is a complex entity;
maintaining it will call for every shred
of energy and judgment you can muster.”
“Bravo! Bravo!” cried the assembled seers
sitting around Bhishma. But Yudhishthira,
as evening fell, was serious and sad.
Early the next morning, Yudhishthira,
after performing his prayers and ablutions,
sat again at Bhishma’s side.
“Grandfather,
explain to me: how is it that one man,
whose body is the same as other men’s,
who is no more noble or accomplished
than many others, who is born and dies
as they do—how is it that this one man
is called ‘king,’ and must protect the earth,
is respected above other men
and treated like a god?”
Bhishma replied,
“There was a time in the history of the earth
when there were no kings, and no use of force
or punishment; all people lived in peace
with one another, honoring the law.
But then greed arose, lust and anger,
and people grabbed what did not belong to them,
fought each other, and forgot morality.
Their ritual obligations were neglected.
All was chaos; the people were desperate,
lacking any source of authority.
“The gods hurried in distress to Brahma,
lord of creatures. ‘Blessed one,’ they cried,
‘we are afraid. The natural reverence
accorded us by humans has broken down.
These days, they no longer honor us
and we no longer shower them with favors.
Our divine status, which derives from yours,
is disappearing.’ Brahma thought long and hard
and composed the Group of Three, the goals
all men should follow to avert chaos:
virtue, wealth and pleasure. And he specified
a further, spiritual, goal: moksha—
release from the ceaseless round of birth and death,
merging the self with the absolute.
“He composed a hundred thousand lessons
addressing every aspect of earthly life.
The gods were satisfied. They asked Vishnu
to nominate a leader, one superior
to other human beings, a person worthy
to implement the teachings of Lord Brahma.
After some setbacks, and with difficulty,
the seers identified a virtuous man,
respectful of the gods, and of brahmins,
imbued with the spirit of Vishnu himself.
His name was Prithu, and the seers were sure
he would be attentive to the brahmins’ views,
and enforce the law. They consecrated him.
The populace welcomed him as their ruler.
That was the origin of kingship. Soon
order and prosperity returned,
the earth flourished and men and gods were happy.
“Of course, not every king since those distant days
has defended virtue as he should.
But the ideal is there; all recognize
and love a worthy king when they see him,
and without a king all would be chaos,
evil would prevail throughout the land.”
“What causes evil?” asked Yudhishthira.
“Greed is the ultimate root of every evil.
People who covet what they do not have
are prone to anger, and become obsessed.
They are mean-spirited, enslaved by wanting.
Those who pile up wealth for its own sake
are often ruthless and contemptuous,
despising those less well off than themselves.
Lust comes from greed. Dishonesty, ill will,
envy, ruthlessness—every kind of sin
starts with desiring more than one possesses.
“Ignorance springs from the selfsame root.
Greed spreads its branches and the mind grows dark,
unable to judge clearly. Even the wise,
skilled in offering advice to others,
are rarely free, in their secret hearts,
of craving, lust, jealousy, and longing
for an existence free from every hardship.
“Yes, greed is the worst vice. To escape its grip
one must cultivate that self-control
which is the scaffolding of every virtue.
With self-control come patience, moderation,
gentleness and generosity.
Some people might take self-control for weakness
but it is really tolerance, openness
to all experience, a non-judgmental
acceptance of all that life may send our way.
A person does not need a forest ashram
if they can exercise such self-control
while engaged fully in the daily round.”
Yudhishthira asked about the four classes
in society, and about the four stages
through which a man may pass during his life.
Bhishma gave details of the many virtues
that all four orders should pursue in common.
He emphasized the close connectedness
between the different classes, how they depend
one on another; but how each has its own
distinct dharma laid down for its members;
and how the king must uphold the distinctions
and not permit the blurring of boundaries.
“As for a king,” said Bhishma, “his first duty
is to his subjects, caring for their welfare
like that of his children. If they are virtuous
the king shares in the merit of his people.
He must be generous, without self-seeking.
He should worship the gods with sacrifices,
but not officiate; recite the Vedas
but not teach them. He should defend the land
bravely against marauding enemies.
To this end, he must acquire wealth
and rule the kingdom on enlightened lines.
He must use wisdom in choosing ministers
and advisers. They must be honest, able
and sincere, but the king should never
trust them entirely, nor confide too much.
“The key to all this is authority:
the power to use the rod when necessary.
A king should never act with cruelty
but he must not hesitate to punish
wrongdoers, in proportion to their crime.
Without the use of proper punishment
the kingdom will become demoralized,
there will be mayhem, and the old and weak
will become the helpless victims of the strong
as, in nature, big fish gobble small ones.
The king protects against the law of fishes.
Judicious use of royal discipline
ensures that every subject knows their place
and knows the conduct suitable for them
within the scheme of things. But if the king
applies authority erratically,
and only partially ensures fair treatment,
then, correspondingly, there will develop
all manner of ills—famine, epidemics
and breakdown of the basic forms of life.
“A king’s strength derives from a well-trained army
which can protect the kingdom against attack,
and in turn can conquer other kingdoms.
In this way, wealth can be accumulated.
Conquest can be achieved by other means,
by cunning for example. He must send spies
into the territory of his enemy;
there they can use bribery, sow discord
and send key information back to him.
But constant vigilance is necessary
for the enemy can do the same to him!”
“What should be the personal qualities
of a good king?” asked Yudhishthira.
“A king should be the master of himself
before he seeks to impose his will on others.
More than this, there are many attributes
a king should cultivate—remember these:
He should do his duty without resentment.
He should be cheerful and affectionate.
He should pursue wealth without cruelty.
He should be brave without being boastful.
He should be generous, but not foolhardy.
He should not ally himself with evil men.
He should not engage in war against his kin.
He should not use dishonest men as spies.
He should avoid acting under duress.
He should not trust an irreligious man.
He should not betray confidences.
He should never kill a messenger.
He should not get angry without good reason.
He should work hard and conscientiously
and never be unmindful of the moment.
He should enjoy his pleasures moderately.
He should guard his wife, but without jealousy.
He should not act hypocritically.
He should not live too ostentatiously.
He should be thoughtful in everything he does.
“Whoever cultivates these kingly virtues
will be fortunate in this life and the next.”
“Grandfather,” Yudhishthira asked Bhishma,
“being a king is such a heavy burden,
so much responsibility. How can he
avoid being continually anxious?
With such opportunity for error,
how can he ever sleep at night?”
“My son,”
replied Bhishma, “you should surround yourself
with virtuous brahmins, and with ministers
who are the wisest and best-qualified
men you can find. In choosing them, be guided
not by personal preference or love,
still less by pressure to confer favors,
but rather by your own considered judgment
of their abilities and character.
They should be men whose interests coincide
with yours, men innocent of secret motives.
Be ready to suspect your ministers.
Beware of any person who would profit
either from your misfortune or your death.
“The brahmins you invite to live at court
must be learned in the Vedas, and devoted
to right action. Support them generously;
their prayers and wisdom will console you daily.
Surrounded by such men, anxiety
will be kept at bay. In particular,
your court priest will be a refuge for you.”
But Yudhishthira was once again
overwhelmed by doubt: “I have never yearned
to be king, not for a single minute!
I agreed because everyone around me
persuaded me it was the right decision.
But it seems that there is no ‘right’ in kingship.
It is impossible to be a king
without engaging in immoral actions.
I’ll have none of it! I renounce the throne
and the royal rod of force that goes with it.
I’ll go to the forest, live on roots and berries,
and live a life of prayer and meditation.”
“But you are a king, Yudhishthira,”
said Bhishma patiently. “If you retreat
to the woods, renounce the world, to follow
your own spiritual path, you will be
a king reneging on his kshatriya dharma,
behaving like a brahmin, or like someone
in the final phase of life. I know you value
gentleness, and shrink from the exercise
of forceful authority. But the fact is
nothing great has ever been achieved
by gentleness alone. Your forebears knew this,
they knew their duty was to protect their subjects,
and what they knew should be good enough for you.
The proper dharma of a king is action;
for a kshatriya, nothing is more evil
than inertia. Your parents’ greatest wish
was always for you to embrace your duty.”
“But is it never right,” asked Yudhishthira,
“for a person to follow the life path
of an order other than their own?
After all, some brahmins become warriors.”
“They do—but they are rarely right to do so,”
replied Bhishma. “It is the king’s duty
to correct brahmins who have veered away
from their proper calling—those, for instance,
who live as merchants or farmers. It may be
that they do so out of hardship. Then the king
should provide them with adequate support,
so they return to their appropriate dharma.
Brahmins who are ignorant of the Vedas,
and make their living in a different way,
should be taxed like other citizens.
“It is the role of brahmins and kshatriyas
to support one another. To that end
the two orders should remain distinct,
each pursuing its appropriate path.”
“That sounds straightforward,” said Yudhishthira.
“The Vedas tell us we should give to brahmins,
but where does giving end? It seems the scriptures
make no allowance for a king’s resources.
What about periods of scarcity?
The Vedas say, trust in the sacrifices
the brahmins carry out on our behalf.
But how can we trust, when all we can give
is scraps and scrapings from our empty coffers?”
“You should not have such disrespectful thoughts,”
said Bhishma, “nor should you insult the Vedas.
Gifts to brahmins are part of sacrifice;
you give what you can.”
“But aren’t those gifts
merely a transaction, a form of payment
for the merit the sacrifice produces?
Rather than such ritual sacrifice,
one’s body can be a sacrificial vessel
in ascetic practice. In my view
asceticism is better than sacrifice.”
“Listen to me, O learned one,” said Bhishma.
“Asceticism withers up the body—
what merit lies in that? True self-denial
consists in kindness, self-control, compassion,
truthfulness—wise people know that these
are true asceticism. Doubting the Vedas,
our timeless spiritual authority,
is to abandon any absolutes—
that way destruction lies. No more foolishness!”
Yudhishthira asked Bhishma every question
he could think of, relating to the duties
of a king. When his attention focused
on the particulars of governance
it seemed to steady him, and calm his doubts.
They discussed strategies for protecting
a great city, and how to make provision
for possible emergencies. “The city,”
said Bhishma, “should be strongly fortified,
and there should be capacious granaries
and other stores inside the city walls.
Life should be pleasant for all citizens,
with shady courtyards, fountains and broad streets.
The buildings should be gracious and strongly made,
the markets well supplied, and there should be
fairs, festivals and temples where the gods
can be honored. Treasury and armories
should be well stocked. Experts in every art
coming from far and near should be welcomed in.
The city is like a living organism
with different parts working in harmony.
The king should take a hand in everything,
be aware of every activity,
so no intrigue can flourish behind his back.
“The countryside that lies around the city
is its source of sustenance, and must be milked
as if it were a cow—but not so much
that it becomes exhausted. Country dwellers
must feel fairly treated, their lives secure
against marauders. As for paying tax,
which no one likes, the king should make it clear
that they are living under constant threat
of aggression by invading hordes
who will certainly lay waste to the land
and rape the women if not beaten back
by a strong army—for which tax is needed.
Tax is the king’s wealth, but if the burden
is felt to be oppressive and unjust,
rich cattle owners may migrate elsewhere.
A wise king encourages the wealthy
since their wealth will benefit the kingdom.
It is impossible to treat all alike.
The king should cultivate the powerful
and ensure the compliance of the rest.
But the rich should not despise the poor,
nor must the strong take advantage of the weak.
“The kingdom must be run on moral lines.
Taverns and whorehouses should be suppressed,
and begging banned, except in times of famine.
Robbery should not be tolerated.
“A king should be impartial—never swayed
by prejudice. Always observing dharma,
he should live soberly, and shun excess,
arrogance, falsehood and anger. Women,
except his wives, are to be avoided.
He should make certain that intermarriage
between one social class and another
does not muddy the waters of his kingdom;
that will be the best way to ensure
dutiful conduct within the family.”
They talked at length about war: how to tell
right from wrong action, how to discriminate
between appropriately war-like acts
and dishonorable trickery.
“I hate kshatriya war,” said Yudhishthira,
“so many lives are lost by it—for what?”
“War can bring prosperity,” said Bhishma,
“as well as rewards in the afterlife.
A kshatriya is born for the battlefield.
Suppose he goes to war to defend brahmins—
a worthy cause, a response to evildoing—
there could be no more glorious sight on earth
than a brave warrior offering his body
as sacrifice, his bright blood flowing freely
over his limbs. The gods rejoice to see it.
And when that kshatriya dies, washed clean of guilt,
in the fullest flower of his manhood,
he heads for heavenly bliss. It is most shaming
for warriors to meet death in their beds,
coughing feebly, moaning and shivering.
“Nevertheless, a king should avoid rashness.
If a stronger kingdom threatens his,
he should bide his time, not start a battle
he is bound to lose. He should be like
the reeds that grow beside a swollen river
which, bending flat with the powerful current,
only stand up when the time is right.
“But a flourishing kingdom does not spring
from war alone. A king should first secure
his base at home, by good governance.
A strong base comes from contented subjects
in both the city and the countryside.
The people should be plump and prosperous,
the army in good heart, and those at court
busy and purposeful. This comes about
when the king is mindful of right action,
when he is solicitous for his subjects,
is moderate, generous and energetic.
Of life’s three goals—merit, wealth and pleasure—
pleasure should come last for him. His people
will see how he works hard on their behalf
and will love and honor him.
“Only then,
when all is well at home, should the king think
of reaching for the wealth of other kingdoms
by well-planned attack. He should invite them
to submit to his authority,
promising that he will rule them fairly.
If they are reluctant, he should seek
to offer payments and conciliate.
Only if they refuse should he make war,
and then using the least possible force,
with due respect for the rules of chivalry.
Having conquered, he should pay attention
to winning hearts and minds in his new lands
through gifts and friendly speeches. Punishment
should not be used on men whose sole offense
is having fought against him. Treated well,
his new subjects may not feel inclined
to forge alliances with his enemies.
“But do not discount humiliation.
To be defeated is a bitter thing
for a proud people; memory is long
and there will always be brave young hotheads
who wish to have revenge, and prove themselves.
So the king must always be vigilant
against conspiracy, and train his spies
to be his eyes and ears.”
“Revered Grandfather,”
said Yudhishthira, “explain to me
how republics work. Without a king,
why do they not split apart?”
“Quite often
they do,” said Bhishma, “when they have become
demoralized by greed and selfishness.
A republic’s strength lies in the way
an individual’s effort is amplified
by being joined to that of the whole group.
When collective loyalty is uppermost
in people’s minds, when scrupulous attention
is paid to justice, fairly administered
by the wisest men, so corrupt influence
does not take hold, well, then a republic
will flourish. But when conflicting interests
are not resolved, then fissures will appear
and the weakened polity will fall victim
to the predations of its enemies.”