Confucius and the Traditional Culture He Represents An Unjustly Blamed Scapegoat, a Deeply Wronged Fall Guy

 Confucius and the Traditional Culture He Represents

An Unjustly Blamed Scapegoat, a Deeply Wronged Fall Guy

The noble-born Indian poet Tagore once said a widely circulated quote: “Knowledge is the crystallization of precious gems, and culture is the luster they emit.” Sometimes I think that, for me—or for many others like me who feel they’ve lived a life of failure—this statement of his feels even more noble than his aristocratic origins, noble to the point of being utterly unattainable. Perhaps this is an inevitable outcome of the era of information flattening: knowledge has greatly depreciated in value, and for many ordinary people, culture has even become a burden. Take me, for example—I secretly scribble little essays in private, but in public, if someone says I’m “cultured,” whether they mean it kindly or maliciously, my instinctive reaction is to feel insulted. Yet here I am, a insignificant nobody, writing this piece about “Confucius and the Traditional Culture He Represents.” This, in itself, powerfully proves how knowledge and culture have drastically lost value for ordinary or unsuccessful people in this age of information flattening. Of course, even though I admit I’m a nobody, I still want my little essay to have a shred of reason—even if it’s just a shred of reason in private. Otherwise, even in secret, lying down would feel more comfortable than sitting up.

Enough with the rambling; let’s get to the point. Confucius, born Qiu with the courtesy name Zhongni, commonly revered as a sage, lived around 500 BCE. For most of the 2,400 years since his death, it’s hardly controversial to say he’s the most monumental figure in the memory of Chinese civilization. The vast majority venerate him, a small minority eye him skeptically, and a few slander him. The traditional culture he represents survived the book-burning and scholar-burying of Qin Shi Huang and was elevated by Emperor Wu of Han’s exclusive promotion of Confucianism, long transcending the confines of Confucian thought itself. With the rise of the imperial examination system in the Sui and Tang dynasties, the traditional culture Confucius represents became even more entwined with politics. Later, the Neo-Confucianism of the Song dynasty and Wang Yangming’s School of Mind in the Ming dynasty showed tendencies to separate this culture from politics, but the political systems of the Ming and Qing dynasties rendered such unintentional separations irrelevant. On the contrary, starting from the mid-to-late Qing dynasty—especially after the First Opium War—the impact of Western academic thought, combined with the Taiping Rebellion, meant that nearly all traditional culture, directly or indirectly tied to politics, could be represented by Confucius. In the relatively short period that followed, the imperial exams were abolished, the Qing government was overthrown, and the New Culture Movement brought turbulent change. Confucius became controversial, and the traditional culture he represented grew fragmented. If things had progressed naturally, I think Confucius would still be Confucius, and the traditional culture he represents would have gradually settled, its dross slowly ignored and its essence gradually absorbed. But then came the unexpected.

As if dictated by historical fate, in the last 100 years since Confucius’s time, the tide of communism swept across this land like a virus, devouring nearly all thought and culture. Especially after the Communist Party established its regime in 1949, everything took on a different flavor. Confucius became “Old Man Kong,” and the traditional culture he represented was reduced to a rag for wiping the table of communist ideology. No, “rag” isn’t quite right—perhaps “diaper” is more fitting. Of course, in rare exceptions, the Communist Party would borrow Confucius’s name for things like “Confucius Institutes,” or let the traditional culture he represents air out a bit through various “traditional culture” research centers. But in essence, within the Communist Party’s domain, Confucius can only ever be “Old Man Kong,” and the traditional culture he represents can only be a diaper for communist ideology. Anything else is a misunderstanding.

Misunderstanding 1: Confucius and the Traditional Culture He Represents Have a Standard

From the discussion above, it’s not hard to see that Confucius has long become a symbol, and the politically-related traditional culture he represents is fluid—a fluidity spanning over 2,400 years. This millennia-long flow has brought both mud and sand: the nourishing soil for human development has become thick and sticky, while the harmful sand has been polished smooth. From an individual perspective, almost any viewpoint can find both pros and cons within it, and almost no understanding can escape its vast scope. From a societal perspective, for rulers, all good deeds can be interpreted as praise-worthy within it, and all bad policies can find excuses within it. For the ruled, when you encounter good deeds, you can thank tradition; when you face bad policies, you can curse it. Of course, if you’re ruled by the Communist Party, whether it’s good or bad, Confucius or tradition becomes irrelevant—thanking the Party is the only correct answer. I digress a bit, but maybe not really.

Back to Confucius and the traditional culture he represents. Sometimes I think the attitude from Zhou Dunyi’s Ode to the Lotus in the Song dynasty—“to be admired from afar but not profaned up close”—is the most fitting approach. Within it lies essence that can foster rapid personal growth, but also dregs that can slowly drag society down. You can revere it, you can despise it, but it’s hard to confine it to a specific framework because Confucius and the traditional culture he represents inherently lack a standard. A symbol and a flowing torrent are better suited for distant admiration. If you can draw some energy from it, great; if not, no harm done. But to become wholly engrossed in it, or to treat it as a cure for ailments, is wishful thinking—it might even turn into a deadly poison. Or to put it another way: making Confucius and the traditional culture he represents the scapegoat for many of today’s social and political problems in China isn’t unjust. After all, even a sage is human, and the traditional culture he represents is indeed a mix of mud and sand.

Misunderstanding 2: Communism Has a Bottom Line

When a person becomes insanely arrogant, it’s hard for an onlooker to see their merits—a fact easily confirmed by history or reality. But when an ideology becomes diabolically self-aggrandizing, it’s hard for either outsiders or those immersed in it to discern its bottom line. It’s not easy to verify this through history or reality because ideologies are inherently vast, and arrogance and exclusivity are their natural traits. Whether they turn demonic is a matter of perspective. Proving it risks falling into logical traps, like the endless loop of “a white horse is not a horse.” Still, I’ll try to argue from logic that communism has no bottom line—because I don’t care whether a “white horse” is a “horse.”

What is communism? I once naively thought it was just another expression of Marxism. But with more knowledge—especially after reading some of Qin Hui’s articles—I realized I was wrong. Simply put, communism extracts the class and revolution parts from Marxist theory and distorts them further. Marx’s theories are merely a primer for communism. I also once thought communism was the Lenin-Stalin-Mao style of fundamentalist fanaticism, but then Khrushchev denounced Stalin, Deng Xiaoping betrayed Mao, and yet both continued waving the communist flag. I was wrong again. Now I see it: communism is a chameleon-like ideology aimed solely at seizing and controlling power, a utopian trap. Vividly put, communists erect a grand flag in the void, appoint themselves flag-bearers, and decide where the flag goes, how to get there, and how long it takes. Worse, those who don’t follow or can’t see the flag are backward, enemies—or at least potential enemies. And with enemies, communism reverts to its chameleon nature, forming a “perfect” closed loop. The problem lies precisely in that “perfection.” Think about it: for communists, the sky has clouds, the earth has flaws, and humans are mere dust—only communism is “perfect.” Does it need a bottom line? What’s a bottom line for—footnotes to “perfection”? If footnotes are needed, is it still “perfect”? So communism has no bottom line. More precisely, any communism with a bottom line is just a disguise—and disguises are a chameleon’s forte.

Misunderstanding 3: Confucius, the Traditional Culture He Represents, and Communist Ideology Are Aligned

Thought is a wonderful thing. Nobel laureate French writer Romain Rolland said, “Those who strangle thought are the greatest murderers.” If he’s right, then everyone promoting communist ideology is guilty of crimes against humanity—and that’s not too far-fetched. For communism, controlling or reshaping thought is key to its viral spread. Historically, in its early rampant stages, whether through violence or deceit, the control of thought served starkly practical interests—class, land, wealth—all pointing to power itself. Once power is fully seized, communism enters a stable phase where belief doesn’t matter, only submission does. Accordingly, communists create a ladder with communism as the backdrop, built on sin and fairness as its price. Climb the ladder, and you’re one of them—even hanging on counts. Those on the ladder are flag-bearers, radiating light. The higher you climb, the brighter the glow, until it masks human traits, leaving only the flag. How can a flag be doubted or err? If flaws appear, a scapegoat steps in.

For communist ideology, Confucius and the traditional culture he represents are the perfect scapegoat—better even than history, which they can dress up at will. This is because communism has no bottom line, and Confucius and the culture he represents have no standard. All the evils of communism—closed-mindedness, tyranny, extremism, ignorance, arrogance, brutality, personality cults—can be found in Confucius and the traditional culture he represents, with “can be” almost unnecessary: every bad thing can be pinned on them. After all, Confucius lived 2,500 years ago, and the culture he represents has accumulated for over two millennia. But does that mean they’re aligned with communism? That’s a grave mistake. Confucius and his traditional culture also contain good—enlightenment, democracy, moderation, benevolence, peace, kindness, and people-centeredness. Does communism have these? Except when communists need a façade, I’d say communism inherently lacks even a speck of these virtues. As an ideology, it’s become diabolically arrogant; any good would be a burden, dulling its luster. So Confucius and the traditional culture he represents are merely communism’s diaper and scapegoat—a deeply wronged scapegoat at that.

With these three misunderstandings addressed, this little essay is mostly done. I’m not satisfied—want to revise, add examples—but I’ll leave it as is. Not aiming for perfection, just peace of mind. At the end, I’ll quote a few lines from the Analects to encourage myself and any kind-hearted readers:

Zengzi said: “A scholar must be resolute and steadfast, for the burden is heavy and the journey long. To take benevolence as one’s duty—is that not heavy? To persist until death—is that not far?”

May 24, 2024, Friday