is sapping my energy. My speech is slurred.
And how can I lay claim to wisdom, Krishna,
when you are here? I would be ashamed—
it would be like a pupil holding forth
in the presence of his revered master.”
“Greatest mainstay of the Bharatas,
your wisdom is legendary,” replied Krishna.
“But I can ease your physical distress.
You will have no more pain or tiredness,
your mind will be clear, and you will remember
all you ever knew. With your celestial eye
you will see the truth of things entire,
as if watching fish in limpid water.”
The sun was dropping behind the western hills.
All took their leave and left Bhishma to rest.
The royal party rode back to the city.
In the morning, Yudhishthira decided
he would go back to Bhishma with no escort,
only Krishna and his family.
They found the seers around him, as before.
Yudhishthira could not bring himself to speak,
so Krishna approached. “How is it with you?
I hope you are comfortable.” Bhishma replied,
“Thanks to you, all my pain has left me,
my mind and understanding are diamond clear.
But why, tell me, do you not yourself
teach Yudhishthira?” Krishna answered him,
“I wish to do you good. What you teach the king
will become known throughout the three worlds,
bringing you great glory. The Pandavas
are here. Please speak to them like a father;
they trust you utterly.”
“Let Yudhishthira
question me,” said Bhishma. “That son of Pandu
is scrupulous in his respect for dharma,
self-controlled, truthful and devout.
He worships the gods and respects his elders,
is gracious to guests, and generous to brahmins—
Yudhishthira should say what he wants to hear.”
“He is too full of shame to approach you,
aware of having harmed you, and so many
other outstanding men. He fears a curse.”
“Krishna,” said Bhishma, “as you know, the scriptures
have laid down that warfare is to kshatriyas
what piety and study are to brahmins.
A kshatriya should always be prepared
to kill even his kin in a just cause.
Yudhishthira has acted honorably.”
Hearing this, Yudhishthira drew near
and clasped Bhishma’s feet. “Welcome, my son,”
said Bhishma. “Be seated, do not be afraid.
Whatever you desire to know—ask me.”
50.
THE EDUCATION OF THE DHARMA KING (1)
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
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