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,
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 possibl
e 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.”
51.
THE EDUCATION OF THE DHARMA KING (2)
“How very many points,” sighed Yudhishthira,
“have to be borne in mind by any person
who sincerely seeks a virtuous life!
Is there one precept, above all the others,
one should not forget?”
“In my view,” said Bhishma,
“nothing is more important than honoring
one’s parents and one’s teachers; they should always
be obeyed and treated with deference.
Mother, father, teacher—they are the three worlds,
the three sacrificial fires. Their needs
should never be neglected. There is no one
in the world more wicked than a person
who harms any of these, by word or deed.
Of these, the teacher is the most important.
The two parents create the child’s body
which grows, strengthens, withers and grows old.
But one is born again through the instruction
the teacher offers. That teaching is divine,
timeless, and never decays with age.”
Yudhishthira was struggling with confusion.
Though Bhishma talked of honoring one’s parents
above all others, the Dharma King remained
angered and shocked by what Kunti had done
in covering up the truth of Karna’s birth.
“How can a man go on?” he cried to Bhishma.
“I want to live virtuously, but how to tell
right from wrong, when truth and falsehood seem
so intertwined? What is truth, what is falsehood?
And should one always speak the truth, regardless?”
“There is nothing higher than truth,” said Bhishma.
“But sometimes truth is false, and falsehood true.
A simple person clings to the literal;
wisdom brings deeper discrimination.
The law on what is right is intended
for the good of creatures, avoiding harm.
So, on occasion, lying may be right—
think of simple-minded Kaushika.
“There are many circumstances when the truth
may not be what it seems, and nor may lying.
Someone who witholds the truth, while not
directly lying, is committing falsehood.
Someone who lives by dishonesty
is a liar, and should certainly be punished.
But one who lies in order to support
a virtuous outcome is acting as they should.
And one who kills a hypocrite acts rightly
since, in fact, that sinner is already
killed by their own behavior. Remember too—
to act toward a person in the way
that they themselves have acted is to choose
right conduct.
“You look downcast, Yudhishthira.
All you can do is live as best you can—
do your duty as you understand it,
enjoy your pleasures, but in moderation,
worship the gods, and devote yourself
to Narayana above all others.”
“But tell me, Grandfather,” cried Yudhishthira,
“how can a king possibly be happy?”
“He must cultivate his higher faculties,”
replied Bhishma, “and act with energy,
never opt merely for an easy life.