The Most Venerable Book (Shang Shu)

by Confucius

  Clear and glittering bright

  Are the ordinances of King Wen.

  He founded the sacrifices

  That in the end gave victory

  That are the happy omens of Chou.*

  The Yi Jing is made up of sixty-four sets of hexagrams – sets of six lines which are either yin, a broken line, or yang, an unbroken line – which together, through complex processes, reveal the oracle. Their pattern derives from the River Chart discussed earlier. This cosmic map of relationships was revealed, according to Chinese mythology, to the first being who created life, Fu Xi, on the back of a turtle (see page xxii above). Deeply mysterious, the sixty-four hexagrams are in fact a collection of oracles which inspired faith in the great venture of overthrowing the Shang.

  The phrase ‘cross the great river’ appears seven times in the Yi Jing. For the Zhou, living west of the Yellow River, the ‘great river’ is none other than the Yellow River itself. This vast river was both a physical barrier with the Shang empire and a mental barrier. To cross the great river meant to break out of the mountains and on to the fertile plains. Thus ‘crossing the great river’ means to undertake a vast enterprise – the conquest of Shang, no less.

  Alongside this clue were the various oracles which speak of the difficulties of forging some sort of an alliance – texts such as Hexagram 2, which talks of having ‘friends in the South West and losing friends in the North East’, or Hexagram 11, in which the ‘lesser ones leave and the great come’; only to be followed in Hexagram 12 with ‘the great leave and the lesser ones come’. This echoes the following section of chapter thirty in the Shang Shu:

  ‘My liege lords, ministers and officials; commanders of the hosts; commanders of the cavalry; commanders of the infantry; leaders of thousands and officers of hundreds,’ he said to them all in welcome. ‘You have come, all of you, from so many different regions and places. All of you raise your weapons of war and raise your shields as I declare this vow.’

  It is also clear that the Yi Jing builds up to a climax of expectation around Hexagram 30, traditionally the last hexagram in section one of the Yi Jing. Thereafter, the oracles deal not so much with some vast undertaking which everyone has to be drawn into but with the aftermath or consequences of the success of such an undertaking. This too is reflected in the later part of the Book of Zhou in the Shang Shu.

  The Yi Jing provides us with another take on this momentous moment in Chinese history. The hexagrams actually spell out a storyline, though not in conventional fashion, for they were, after all, oracle readings which in many cases forecast or encouraged actions which then followed. What they do is record the progression of thinking and thus of questions to the oracle with regards to how to plan and execute such a major undertaking as the invasion of the Shang dynasty by the Zhou tribes. The reason these oracles were collected together, and were known for some 800 years or so as the ‘Changes of Zhou’, is quite simply that they are the oracles which led the Zhou to rise against oppression. They are in effect a sort of Bayeux Tapestry of China in words – or the Story of the Exodus for Judaism, which still to this day Jews recite and relive every Passover.

  Furthermore, this extraordinary text not only chronicles the invasion but also deals with the problems which then beset the victorious army and people, and ends by posing questions of power and corruption in ways not dissimilar to Greek tragedy or the spirit of the Iliad.

  The Zhou celebrated their victory over the Shang once a year at their ancestral temple. Ritual dances re-enacted the conquest and it would seem fair to speculate that the oracles associated with the invasion were also annually recalled and recited, leading to the compilation of at least part of what we now know as the Yi Jing. This would also have been a likely setting for the retelling of the story in the form we have in the Shang Shu itself. This is very similar to the role that some of the Psalms had when they were used to celebrate Israel’s victories and conquest and were annually recited in the Temple, or the Celtic, Anglo-Saxon and Norse tradition of bards composing epic sagas to be sung at feasts, recalling the triumphs of the warriors.

  Again, in the Shi Jing we find this echoed. For example, Poem 226 in Waley’s translation (op. cit.) is very clear:

  Oh, great were you, King Wu!

  None so doughty in glorious deeds.

  A strong toiler was King Wen;

  Well he opened up the way for those that followed him.

  As heir Wu received it,

  Conquered the Yin, utterly destroying them.

  Firmly founded were his works.

  One of the crimes of which Zhou was guilty was the imprisonment of King Wen of the Zhou, father of King Wu. This venerable old man was locked up for over a year. According to later legend, while he was a prisoner in the Shang dungeons he fell to writing down the sixty-four basic texts – ‘oracles’ – of the Yi Jing. Clearly this was not the case. Legend, however, wanted to honour him, for he was the father of the eventual victor over Zhou, and this was one way of doing it.

  King Wen was eventually released after he had offered up most of his lands to Zhou in return not just for his own freedom but for agreement from Zhou that a particularly barbaric torture he had invented be abandoned. This torture was known as the ‘Grill Roast Technique’, where people were laid on red-hot grids and literally cooked alive.

  Soon after his return to the Zhou tribes, King Wen died and his son King Wu ascended the throne. He was very different sort of character. Aggressive and opportunist, he soon saw that the Shang dynasty was ready to fall. It was he who called for the oracles to be read for advice on whether to attack or not, and he dominates the opening sections of the Book of Zhou in the Shang Shu. It is worth looking briefly at how the Yi Jing texts spell out the initial stages of the conquest, for these are echoed in the Shang Shu.

  The opening text of the Yi Jing, Hexagram 1, relates to the offering of an original sacrifice, a mighty immolation which brought ‘a favourable oracle’. Here is recorded King Wu’s initial sacrifice or offering, seeking advice on whether to even start such a scheme as the invasion of Shang. He was obviously pleased with the positive response.

  Hexagram 2 repeats the details of the successful offering and favourable reading, but then expands a bit more into giving a good outline of the sorts of problems that the king has to face. It talks of taking initiatives and of how some of these will fail. It urges perseverance until the right way has been found. It also cautions that not all those who will be invited to join the attack will come. It is a wise piece of advice to a leader preparing for a major undertaking.

  The wise advice is continued in Hexagram 3, where again the original successful oracle is repeated. This is followed by cautionary advice.

  Hexagram 4 introduces us to something very different. Here, in an extraordinary reading, we have not a third-person voice but first person. The oracle speaks in terms of ‘I’ – and is obviously becoming frustrated! It rebukes those who keep coming to it and who are youthful and shallow. It would appear that the young leader Wu has been pushing it a bit. The strange oracle has a tremendous ring of authenticity about it. You can see the shaman and the oracle getting fed up with the constant requests for more and more favourable readings. The oracle is basically saying, ‘Look, I’ve said it will work, so stop asking about that and get on with it!’ In other words, Wu has now been told most definitely that the oracle is on his side, but that he, Wu, must now seize the moment.

  Finally, in Hexagram 5, Wu is given the reading he has been looking for. He is told that if he is confident and makes the right sacrifices, then he can cross the great river. This is the first time the Yellow River is mentioned and given its role as the most serious physical barrier between the two countries. It is clear that when Wu is told to cross the river he is being given authority from Heaven to invade. With this oracle, the conquest is under way. This crossing of the river is narrated in chapter thirty-one of the Shang Shu:

  By the Wu Wu*day the army had crossed the ford of Meng and by
the next day we were assembled on the borders of Shang in accordance with Heaven’s Decree.

  The somewhat confused state of the Shang Shu is reflected in the fact that later in the book we have further accounts of the launch of the war – for example, in chapter thirty-five the whole saga is told again.

  After the successful conquest, the Book of Zhou chapters constantly refer back to why it was legitimate to overthrow the Shang and they also warn against complacency. For example, in chapter forty the young king is told:

  In the beginning Heaven guided the Yin and their descendants were blessed because they lived in accord with the Mandate of Heaven. But their descendants later squandered everything.

  Now our young king has ascended to the Throne. He must not neglect the elders and those people who have true experience, otherwise how will he come to understand the virtue of the ancient ones who themselves were guided by Heaven. Indeed, the king may be just a youth, but he is the chosen son who is expected to unite the ordinary people. He must be always alert to the dangers that confront the people; he must not fail to do this.

  Was this why the drama of the conquest was re-enacted each year? To act as a reminder that only constant vigilance could preserve a dynasty from slipping into corruption? It seems likely.

  This Book also contains some themes we have explored earlier. For example, the Viscount of Wei whom we met in chapter twenty-six taking his principled stand against the last Shang king, reappears in chapter thirty-six in what may be a later text. Because of his manifest virtue, he is given responsibility by the victorious Zhou for continuing the ritual sacrifices to the worthy former kings of the Shang.

  It is in this Book of Zhou that we meet the model par excellence of the just, moral and humble Confucian minister: the Duke of Zhou. From the very first time we meet him in chapter thirty-four, we know he is going to be outstanding. His loyalty to the ruling house and his desire to be as anonymous as possible while offering his own life if it can save the life of the sick king are wonderfully told in this chapter, as are the plots against him. When at last the king discovers how loyal and humble the duke has been, he say this, which sums up the pivotal role of the Duke of Zhou as the model minister:

  Holding the Record, the king wept and said, ‘We need no further divination for us to understand how dedicated the Duke of Zhou is to the well-being of our Royal House. But because of our foolishness and youth, we did not understand this until today. This explains why Heaven has manifested its anger, so we will discover the true virtue of the Duke of Zhou. Now it is time for me, a mere stripling, to go and meet him, for this is how things should be done in both my Household and my kingdom.’

  The worthiness of the Duke of Zhou and the real affection in which he seems to have been held by the people is reflected in the Shi Jing. Poem no. 232 in the Waley translation has a constant refrain about when the Duke of Zhou has come to the East (as the ruler of the Lu region):

  Throughout the kingdoms all is well.

  He has shown compassion to us people,

  He has greatly helped us.

  A central role of the Duke of Zhou is planning for, finding and helping to build and organize a new capital. The moving of capitals as we saw in the Book of Shang was a complex issue but also a way of making a clean break. Chapters thirty-seven and forty to forty-two concern the creation of the new capital at Luo – now known as Luoyang. They echo many of the themes outlined in the creation of the Shang capital at Yin – people not wanting to go; creating new traditions and structures; divining where best to build the city and so forth.

  In between all this we have some extraordinary chapters. For example, chapter thirty-eight is a passionate plea for sobriety amongst officials who have been using the excuse of ritual and formal banquets to get drunk. Not just drunk, but drunk on money set aside for the proper performance of ritual and entertainment. This is a problem which bedevils China to this day, often attacked by leaders such as President Xi, who in 2012 spoke out about this, using astonishingly similar words to those of chapter thirty-eight.

  But it is chapter thirty-two which is perhaps, along with chapter fifty, the most fascinating. In chapter thirty-two, the Great Plan, we have a detailed outline of the core elements of ancient Chinese philosophy. This is probably the earliest such clear outline, and even if not all of it comes from the earliest texts, nevertheless it captures the earliest thinking of Chinese cosmology based on the Five Elements concept.

  In this chapter we are introduced to the essential tabulations that underpin the Chinese cosmological worldview. There are nine different subsets and even their titles are intriguing:

  The Viscount of Qi replied, ‘Long ago, so I have heard, when Gun fought the Great Flood he upset the Five Elements. This provoked the Ruler to great anger and as a result he did not share with him the Great Plan in its Nine Sections. Because of this, the fundamental principles were lost and Gun was forced into exile, where he died. It fell to Yu to rise up and take on the mantle of his task, whereupon Heaven shared with Yu the Great Plan and its Nine Sections.

  ‘And so it was that everything was once again in order.

  ‘The first of the Nine is the Five Elements

  the second is respect for the Five Conducts

  the third is taking care of the Eight Regulations

  the fourth is details of the Annual Records

  the fifth is perfecting Princely Rule

  the sixth is proper use of the Three Virtues

  the seventh … the Exploration of Uncertainty

  the eighth, the purposeful use of Understanding

  the ninth the careful use of the Five Good Fortunes

  – with a respect for the Six Extremes.’

  The Exploration of Uncertainty is my personal favourite. It echoes the final two hexagrams of the Yi Jing. These are titled ‘No 63 – Finished’ and ‘No 64 – Unfinished’.

  The chapter spells out what each of these sets are, and their meaning, in what can only be considered a synopsis of Chinese philosophy from around 2000 years ago, if not older. As such, it is of immense significance as an insight into the development of core ideas within Chinese cosmology and their relationship to humanity on earth. In the classic Chinese cosmological view, there are three main forces: Heaven, Earth and Humanity. Between them, they are in charge of all life and if any are out of kilter then the cosmos is out of kilter.

  This is captured in a quote from the Doctrine of the Mean, written by Confucius’s grandson c. fourth century BC:

  Only those who are the most sincere [authentic, true and real] can fully realize their own nature. If they can fully realize their own nature, they can fully realize human nature. If they can fully realize human nature, they can fully realize the nature of things.

  If they can fully realize the nature of things, they can take part in the transforming and nourishing process of Heaven and Earth. If they can take part in the transforming and nourishing process of Heaven and Earth, they can form a trinity with Heaven and Earth.*

  The correlation between, for example, the Five Elements (water, fire, wood, metal and earth) and the Five Conducts, which then leads to the Eight Regulations, shows this clearly. One could say, ‘on earth as it is in heaven’, to quote from the Lord’s Prayer.

  Chapter fifty (and flowing over into chapter fifty-one) is a detailed description which has the ring of authenticity and may well be one of the oldest documents to have survived. It recounts in great detail the funeral for a king and the coronation of the new king. Here we have a fulsome ritual description of the conduct of a royal funeral and the passing on of power from one ruler to his heir. The chapter is filled with extraordinary detail such as the ritual clothes that the key participants wore; the official layout of the palace; the different roles the key players had and the sacred objects of ancient China. It is here that we hear about the ritual objects of ancient China such as the River Chart from which the Yi Jing comes; the Great Tortoise Divination Shell; the Red Knife; the Great Book of Instructi
ons; the Grand Jade Disc of Fortune and the Heavenly Chime stone. Some of these objects – such as the River Chart – we still know to this day. Likewise, the divination shells which have been excavated from the Shang dynasty sites over the last century or more. In many museums we can look at jade discs and understand that they were symbols of power and authority and Heavenly chime stones are also to be found. But quite what the Red Knife was, or the Book of Instructions, we have no idea.

  On a more sinister level, chapter fifty-five takes us in detail into the penal codes of the Zhou. Here, however, the severity (to a modern ear) of what should be done is once again mitigated by compassion – the sign of a truly virtuous ruler.

  ‘When both parties are present and ready,

  the judge should listen to the Five Charges.

  If the Five Charges lead to the Five Punishments,

  then so be it.

  If however they do not justify them,

  then don’t use the Five Punishments.

  Instead use the lesser ones,

  the Five Penalties …

  ‘Make the punishment fit the crime.

  ‘Judge carefully and equitably.’

  The chapter sets out the scale of punishments:

  ‘If you are uncertain whether to brand someone, commute this to a fine of six hundred ounces of copper – but only when you are sure.

  ‘If in doubt about a nose slitting, commute to twice that, but only once you are sure.

  ‘If in doubt about a foot amputation, commute this to three thousand ounces of copper, but only once you are sure.

  ‘If in doubt about castration, commute this to three thousand six hundred ounces of copper, but only once you are sure.

  ‘If in doubt about execution, commute this to six thousand ounces of copper, but only once you are sure.

  The role of justice is to protect the people and to create harmony. This overriding concern means that while there are severe punishments, the purpose of them is to restore law and order for the betterment of all.