Order in Chinese Society: Analysing the Insights of Eric Voegelin and the Confucius Chun Tzu (Part II)

In Part I, the philosophical insights of Eric Voegelin were examined in the work of one of China’s greatest literary figures, Lu Xun. One of the most important features of Lu Xun’s work was his deep concern for what he perceived as the individual and the national character. He argued, “When the individual is exalted to develop his full capacity, the country will be strengthened and arise.”[1] His understanding of the “individual” was one who acquires virtue and acts towards others in an open and humane way. Part II, presents Voegelin’s insights to the problem of order in Chinese society and focuses on Confucius’ creative approach to the chun tzu notion as a possible ordering principle of society.

Voegelin recognized that it was necessary to avoid what he calls a “straight-line history’[2] and in the process, after a spell of seventeen years, he changed the direction of his research resulting in a major shift in his fourth volume, Order and History, The Ecumenic Age (1974). He pointed out that although his previous studies were still valid, however, the project as he had first envisaged it, “was untenable because it had not taken proper account of the important lines of meaning in history that did not run along lines of time.”[3] He recognized that not only were there special revelatory experiences as in the Platonic vision or in the Judea-Christian experience, but there were parallel spiritual outbursts of which the Confucian experience was one. The chun tzu expression of Confucius symbolized a new understanding of the order of political reality. Voegelin realized that independent parallel histories of non-western mankind had been simply overlooked and this was a challenge he faced.[4]

To investigate the ordering principle in non-Western experience was a challenge. First, it is generally conceded that the Chinese experience arose independently of the West, which meant there were no common symbols. Secondly, the analyst can be accused of imposing cultural values from one culture to another. To examine the problem of analyzing the Chinese experience, Voegelin chose the “philosopher’s experience” which has engendered symbols and in this way he avoided the problem of using sociological or culture-bound values. The immediate task for him was to investigate the degree and type of differentiation exhibited by the Chinese experience of the divine. Voegelin used such terms as, “immanence” and “transcendence”, “leap in being”, “incomplete break” and lastly, “substance” to indicate the types of differentiation.  In order to understand how the Chinese viewed both the divine and human concepts it is necessary first to study those symbols that have been engendered as expressions of the divine. How did the early Chinese conceive the divine? I have presented the following most significant notions: Shang Ti [high god or ancestor]; T’ien [heaven]; and the Tao [Way].

 Shang Ti, The Common Ancestor

Shang Ti in the Shu Ching and the Book of Odes refers to a being who is literally the “Supreme Emperor” and seems to have been considered by the early Chinese as the highest and supreme authority. He presided over an elaborate hierarchy of spirits who were secondary to him and paid him an allegiance. Shang Ti belonged to the religious beliefs of a large part of the population of China and had probably existed from the earliest time in Chinese history.[5] The official religion regarded certain deities as objects of state worship. Ti or Shang Ti was still retained by the Ch’ing government, and was given “first rank” with “The Empress Earth, the Imperial Ancestors and the Guardian Spirits of the Land and the Harvests [she chi].”[6]

T’ien

One of the earliest references to T’ien, “heaven,” is in the Shu Ching V,1(1),3 : “Heaven and Earth are Father and Mother of all beings” The ruler is referred to as the “Father and Mother of the nation.”[7] Schindler observes a close relation between sky, T’ien and sun in some old forms of Chinese writing  – “Heaven understood with the sun as a solar god.”  In ancient literature t’ien, heaven, appears to be entirely anthropomorphic. Heaven is referred to as “quick of hearing and sharp of sight like the people.”[8]As the documents were revised the anthropomorphic conception of heaven gradually waned. Reference to “summer sky” and “autumnal sky” indicates that the divinity of Heaven was apparently taken to be the personification of the sun.[9] The association of T’ien with the sky has been remarked on by Eliade, who observes that for the Chinese the sky “regulates the order of the cosmos, and dwells as supreme sovereign at the summit of the nine regions of heaven.”Also,“The sky is a dynastic providence, an all-seeing and law-giving power. It is the god of vows.  Men swear by the brightness of day and of dawn; they call to witness the blue vault, the blue sky, the sky on high that shines and shines.”[10] T’ien is closely connected to natural phenomena such as sky and from this source belief in an all-seeing giver was conceived.  The God-on-High, as Joseph Shih has suggested, can sometimes be “confused with a moon-god and was consequently taken for a Higher ancestor.”[11] However Shang Ti could also be considered as a deity of Earth.

Tao

Tao is more fluid than Shang Ti and T’ien in the sense of being a process or force in the cosmos.[12] The self-generating process of the cosmos as a harmony of cosmic forces has been encapsulated by Chang Tsai in his treatise “Great Harmony (Ch. 1). He writes:

“The Great Harmony is called the Way (Tao, Moral Law). It embraces the nature which underlies all counter processes of floating and sinking, rising and falling, and motion and rest. It is the origin of the process of fusion and intermingling, of overcoming and being overcome, and of expansion and contraction. At the commencement, these processes are incipient, subtle, obscure, easy and simple, but at the end they are extensive, great, strong and firm. It is ch’ien (Heaven) that begins with the knowledge of Change, and k’un (Earth) that models after simplicity. That which is dispersed, differentiated, and capable of assuming form becomes material force (ch’i), and that which is pure, penetrating, and not capable of assuming form becomes spirit. Unless the whole universe is in the process of fusion and intermingling like fleeting forces moving in all directions, it may not be called Great Harmony.”[13] 

This passage exemplifies the understanding of Tao as the cosmic force behind all that exists. The early Confucians recognized the importance of Tao as the force that not only governs the cosmos but also as the Way or path to guide the lives of humans. What is important to note here is the strong sense of harmony with the divine strengthened by a cosmological experience. The Chinese conception of the world suggested a pervasive cosmological influence throughout the entire society which found expression in the cultural history of China.

Chinese Failure to Break from the Cosmological Mode

Voegelin explains that the failure of the Chinese to break from the cosmological mode meant that in China “polytheism of the Homeric type” never appeared. He observes that an early date the Chinese at perceived “the divine force ordering the ritual ecumene” as an impersonal force, “expressed by the symbol t’ien”.[14] The order as envisaged by the sages, was validated on a “deceptively traditionalist claim, on the ethos of a past unencumbered by polytheism.” The result was the absence of tension in Chinese thought which in other traditions led to debates about which god was more important. Due to the absence of such tension, the Chinese experience of the divine failed to give rise to an understanding of transcendence.[15]

The implications of China’s failure to reach modernity in the area of philosophy and science have been observed by many scholars.[16]Joseph Needham, for example, recognized the same problem when he declared that Chinese thought failed to separate the “social man” from Nature. He explained that although Chinese philosophers gave great significance to the study of man and to the doctrine of a co-operative society in which men’s interests complemented each other without conflict, at the same time, they neglected to develop principles to confront superstition.  If they had done so, the way could have been opened up to investigate scientific principles. Needham, also perceptively observed that there was a failure to distinguish between ethics and politics. Furthermore, China did not develop a rational science.[17] He suggested that supernatural or religious perceptions were unquestioned. If the Chinese thinkers had been more “rationalistic,” such an approach could have aided the evolution of a scientific view of the world. Needham placed the blame on the Confucian view of man and human society. The Chinese scholars were satisfied with what they had and did not look for an alternative approach. For them, the Way of antiquity and the sages whom Confucius idealized was sufficient.

Voegelin approached the problem from another way. He considered it was the difficulty of finding in non-Western cultures a common substance or topoi (notions). Some common substance is necessary to carry out a debate. He remarked, “A dialogue or a conversation must always have as its substance, a background of common experience of something, and a common language.”[18] For example, in the Western experience, the common basis was the Hellenic and Christian experience of transcendence. However, when non-Western experiences such as the Hindu, Buddhist, or Confucianist experiences are examined, there appears to be no common topoi or experience between them. Each tradition has a very difference substance.[19]

Voegelin’s use of substance has been discussed in the context of Hellenic and Christian thought. Substance is understood as the underlying reality (ousia). When Voegelin examined the Chinese experience,  he categorized it as a “compact” experience  meaning that the Chinese view of “heaven” (Tao, T’ien) is portrayed as the  “operation of impersonal cosmic forces.” Tien, heaven, preserves its “majesty of undisturbed order, while society is engaged in its struggle for attunement [to the cosmos]”[20] The same idea of merging between men and spirits in the Chinese experience is supported by Fung Yu-lan.  He observes that although the concept of Heaven (tien) and God (ti) gives an appearance of a monotheistic belief, the old ideas of polytheism were still present.[21] As it was, the multitude of spirits which pervaded the Chinese universe are considered “anthropomorphic beings.”[22] The actions of these spirits were looked upon as quite indistinguishable from those of human beings.  Fung Yu-lan refers to the idea by pointing out that, “people and spirits were confusedly mingled” and “people and spirits held the same position”, further “the spirits followed the customs of the people.” Hence, the actions of these spirits were looked upon as being indistinguishable from those of human beings.[23] Both Needham and Fung Yu-lan recognize the absence of the principle of differentiation compared to Hellenic and Christian thought. They acknowledge that the merging of divine, human and natural phenomena was a basis for concern. 

What is being emphasized here is that in the Chinese experience the divine is never identified, except as an impersonal force that pervades the cosmos, whereas, in the Western experience the divine is understood as “being.”[24] Gilson explained that “being” is “the first principle of human knowledge”[25]and “if  being is the first principle of human knowledge, it must be the very first  object to be grasped by the  human mind.” It is useful to recall Gilson’s observation that “the word ‘being’ is a noun, as such it signifies either a being (that is, the substance, nature, and essence of anything existent), or being itself, a property common to all that which can rightly be said to be.” In “a second acceptation, the same word is the present participle of the verb,‘to be.’ As a verb, it no longer signifies something that is, nor even existence in general, but rather the very act whereby any given reality actually is, or exists”.[26] Thus, Gilson sums up “being” as the thing “being” what it is and states, “Let us call this act a ‘to be’, in contradistinction to what is commonly called ‘a being’. It appears at once that, at least to the mind, the relation of ‘to be’ to ‘being’ is not a reciprocal one. ‘Being’ is conceivable, ‘to be’ is not. We cannot possibly conceive an ‘is’ except as belonging to something that is, or exists.”[27]

Gilson’s elaboration of “being” highlights the difference between the Chinese experience of the divine and the Western; in the Chinese experience the Tao is never considered a Being. (The Tao is sometimes described as non-being.) The expression non-being reinforces the failure to account for the precise differentiation of being, i.e. the divine and other beings. There is no philosophical framework present in Chinese thought such as the hierarchy of being to differentiate what the divine Being is. In the Judeo-Christian experience, the divine is understood as transcendent Being and it has an identity and a Name. The “Moses experience” discovered that the transcendent being was the being of God, “I am who I am” and that the Israelites were the “people of God”. That is why the particular emphasis given to the relation between the transcendent being and those beings who were “His people.”

The accent on differentiation of being, that is, human-divine has important reverberations on Western consciousness in determining the human type and the order of society. Voegelin explains the “types of truth”:

“The first of these types is the truth represented by the early empires; it shall be designated as ‘cosmological truth.’ The second type of truth appears in the political culture of Athens and specifically in tragedy; it shall be called ‘anthropological truth’ – with the understanding that the term covers the whole range of problems connected with the psyche as the sensorium of transcendence. The third type of truth that appears with Christianity shall be called ‘soteriological truth.’“[28]

“The first type, designated as “cosmological truth” is represented in the Chinese experience of the divine.”[29]

The Problem of Differentiation

The “saint” in the non-western experience transcends the ordinary distinctions of things and loses his or her “self” in the Tao. The fluidity of the experience is manifested as the “saint” merges into the nameless Tao. The experience is one of losing oneself in the Tao as understood by Chung Tzu. Fung Yu-lan suggests, “because he has transcended the ordinary distinctions of things, he also transcends the distinction between the self and the world, the ‘me’ and the ‘non-me.’” Fung Yu-lan elaborates:

Therefore he has no self. He is one with the Tao. The Tao does nothing and yet there is nothing that is not done. The Tao does nothing, and therefore has no achievements. The sage is one with the Tao and therefore also has no achievements. He may rule the whole world, but his rule consists of just leaving mankind alone, and letting everyone exercise his own natural ability fully and freely. The Tao is nameless and so the sage who is one with the Tao is also nameless.[30]

In this passage the union between the divine and the human is expressed as the self merging in the Tao. Some observations by Gregor Sebba are useful here.[31]He observes that the consciousness of the “saint” in “eastern experience” is a kind of consciousness that goes beyond differentiation. (A “transconsciousness”, as Mircea Eliade calls it). Sebba has analyzed the eastern consciousness as a way of knowing that stops the movement through the hierarchy of being in order to force one’s state of consciousness to the point where all experience of differentiation vanishes.[32] In this manner, the “saint” achieves oneness with the Tao. Hence, consciousness in the Eastern experience is perceived as a state beyond the cosmos and beyond history.[33] Whereas, in the Western experience, the “saint” stays within the movement of the hierarchy of being, because in the Christian experience the “saint” experiences the divine union through faith and love.[34]

In the Christian way of knowing, the divine-human encounter the mature soul never merges with the divine being. Christian theologians carefully preserve the creature/Creator distinction when exploring the mature soul’s spiritual encounter with the divine. The framework of the hierarchy of being is carefully maintained. Hence, the “saint” in the Christian experience does not “leap out” of the framework of the hierarchy of being, but acknowledges the order as an ever present structure of reality, pertaining to human existence. The Western experience holds no place for immersion of the “saint,”, although the language of some mystical writers may invite such an impression. The union with the divine in the Christian experience is accomplished through grace, an aspect Voegelin remarked on in a letter to Alfred Schütz.[35]

Some scholars question whether Voegelin in his Order and History: In Search of Order, may have moved from his earlier position on differentiation as expressed in the New Science of Politics to a new position suggested by the terms, “It-reality” and “thing-reality”. Do these terms replace the three “human types” category?[36] The subject is too large to elaborate on here, except to point out that if this was so, then Voegelin would have refuted all he had previously written on the order of the soul and order of society. Secondly, Voegelin himself could be accused of reductionism, which was something he persistently challenged. Although he may have shifted his position several times, yet all his works hold together with remarkable consistency.  Furthermore, in Order and History, In Search of Order (CW18), he remarked that the work was the key to all he had written. Hence, his use of the term “It-reality”/”thing-reality” does not contradict his notion of maximization and differentiation as expressed in earlier works.

“Transcendence” in this context means an experience that involves the differentiation of consciousness between the soul and the divine in the Hellenist sense, the Platonic discovery that the psyche is the site of transcendence of the human experience. In the Christian sense of transcendence, God is understood as “I am who I am” in partnership with “his people.” The Hellenic Judeo-Christian experience is a human-divine unit, not oneness.  “The leap in being” means a movement up the hierarchical scale of being – not a leap away;[37] whereas, “immanence” is understood as a divine force, literally “dwelling in”, and adhering within the cosmos, as in Hegel’s Giest. Immanence opens the way for pantheism and reductionism, and has been opposed by those thinkers for whom the Judeo-Christian experience is central to their philosophic framework.

In the Western and Eastern experiences of the divine, these differences have important implications for understanding the ordering principle of society. The failure to differentiate the human experience from the divine has serious implications in the interpretation of order in the political, social, economic and international arenas.  We find that an impersonal source of order is still a defining code in China, even to the present. This situation permits Chinese thought to meld easily with communism. Voegelin states:

To this day, the faith in an impersonal source of order has remained a determinant in the resistance of cultivated Chinese to religions with personal gods because of their inferior rationality, while the same faith seems to have affinities, if not with the ethos of communism, at least with its impersonal law of dialectics.[38]

Confucian Spiritual Creativity

Nevertheless, the Chinese experience is complex. Although, the divine is perceived to be closely linked to the cosmos, at the same time, a remarkable advance towards the anthropological human type is found when we examine the notion of “man” in the Chinese experience. Confucius offered a brilliant new understanding of “man” in the sage notion (chun tzu). In China, spiritual creativity appeared markedly in thinkers such as Confucius and Lao Tzu.  What is generally agreed, is that these spiritual outbursts had no connection with Judaic or Hellenist thought, even though a similar creative outburst appeared there at the same time. Voegelin understands these spiritual outbursts as “carriers of the spiritual order,” and prefers to call this period “the Ecumene Age” rather than “the axial age”(Jaspers). One aspect manifested by this spiritual creativity is the chun tzu notion of Confucius.[39]

Almost from the dawn of history, as Cheng Tien-hsi explains, the Chinese have distinguished between two types of men: chun tzu which is literally the sovereign man, i.e. the man of virtue or principles or the Noble Man, and hsiao yun li, the petty man, the man with no virtue or principles.[40] Both terms appear in the early Book of History.  The notion of chun tzu is considered central by the Chinese to the formation of character.[41] Certain sayings of Confucius confirm this: “The Jiun Tze [chun tzu] does not even for the space of a single meal, deviate from virtue.  In moments of haste or pressure, he would adhere to it; and, in hours of danger or confusion, he would adhere to it.”[42]Cheng Hsien-Tsi contrasts this notion with hsiao yun li, understood as one who is narrow and not liberal and who clings to comfort and is always distressed.  He does not help others, and is not sociable. Confucius radically changed the earlier concept of chun tzu,[43] literally from “son of a ruler” to “superior man”, by arguing that “nobility” denoted a morally superior man, not a person determined by status or heredity.[44]Fung Yu-lan explains that the chun tzu was originally a term applied to feudal princes, but later came to be applied to the one who possessed “princely” moral qualities.  Such a person was the “Superior Man”. This person was one whose nature was genuine, and could put the li, rites into practice.[45]

It is generally agreed that Confucius’ understanding of man was innovative.[46]In fact, it was so radical that it can be referred to as a “social revolution”.[47]Hughes explains that in China in the 6th century B.C., there arose thinkers who acknowledged the importance of the individual and sought “to break away from the group mind.”[48]However, Confucius imbued the term chun tzu with a “new content,” that is, the idea of associating the superior man not with heredity, but with high ideals of character as manifested by the practice of (humanity), jen.[49] This innovation marked the discovery of the individual in Chinese society.  It was the ability of a man to look at himself and see himself in relation to others. That was the foundation on which Confucius wished to build a good government, one that rested not on power, but on the good of the common man.[50] On this same subject, Mote has pointed out that “Confucius insisted that the name chun tzu should apply only to those ‘superior men,’ those who gave evidence of having achieved a personal superiority of ethical and intellectual cultivation.”This was a revolutionary redefinition of the criterion for assigning status in society and was formulated at a time when the old criterion was becoming obsolete. Some would argue Confucius’ purpose was to revitalize the aristocracy by challenging its members to play their proper roles,[51] yet, the outcome was that Confucius openly invited men of all backgrounds and classes to be his students in order to become “superior men,” something that was proclaimed as the universal standard for education.[52]Chinese society had found a mechanism for regulating and encouraging social mobility as well as providing a justification for the ideal of an open society.[53]

In Confucius’ thought, the sage is one who possesses the quality of genuineness or truth and is opposed to all emptiness and falseness.  He referred to this quality as “basic stuff” consisting of straightforwardness or uprightness (chih).[54] Such an expression of human nature appears in short pithy sayings in the Lun Yu.[55] For example :

Zinging asked about the true gentleman. The Master said: ‘He preaches only what he practices’( 2.13).

The Master said: ‘The gentleman considers the whole rather than the parts. The small man considers the parts rather than the whole’(2.14).

The Master said: ‘A gentleman seeks virtue: a small man seeks land. A gentleman seeks justice; a small man seeks favors’(4.11).[56]

The Confucian innovation of the chun tzu led to special attention being given to human psychology. In the Confucian perspective humans were considered equal in their human nature, but different in their practice of virtues. “In their original natures (hsing) men closely resemble each other. In their acquired practices (hsi) they grow wide apart.” [XVII,2].[57]Such a view of human nature was taken over by the later Confucians.[58] Confucius, himself never gave an absolutely clear-cut answer as to whether man’s nature is good or evil. This has remained a major problem for the Confucian school. The new Confucian understanding of human nature can be referred to as an “awakening”. Cheng Chung-ying explains that the Confucian age begins with

Confucius’s explicit recognition that the external t’ien (heaven) has an essential link with the internal te (virtue, power) of man and that man should extend himself in a graded love toward other men and thus achieve the universal humanity inherent in us. We may say, therefore, that Confucianism as represented by Confucius is an awakening of man in regard to his relationships to heaven, to other men and to himself. The relationality of man is to be realized in the practice and perfection of virtues such as jen (love and benevolence), yi or I (righteousness), li (propriety) and chih (wisdom in distinguishing good from bad).[59]

What Cheng Chung-ying is suggesting is something close to Platonic philosophy. Fung Yu-lan confirms this position when he points out that most Chinese philosophers have elaborated on the “Inner Sage and Outer King” and considered the Inner Sage as one who has established virtue in himself; the Outer King is one who has accomplished great deeds in the world. “The highest ideal is for a man  to possess both the virtue of a Sage and the accomplishment of a ruler, and so become what is called a Sage-king, or what Plato would have termed the Philosopher-king.”[60]

 Voegelin’s Analysis of Confucius’ Chun Tzu

The elaboration of the chun tzu  as “the ideal man” suggests that a leap of being did occur in the Chinese experience. Confucius’ teaching had a civilizing effect on human nature, and contributed to order in society. The sage notion and its cluster of virtues reinforce the theory that the substance of Confucius’ teaching provided a basis for a new human type, as Voegelin suggested. Confucius set his disciples altruistic goals and high standards. These features suggest there is some equivalence of the chun tzu aspirations with the philosopher’s nous. However, for all its brilliance, Confucius’ teaching did not achieve a “breakthrough”, i.e. a move from the cosmological type of truth to the anthropological type. Confucianism never became “radically transcendental” and Confucius’ teaching remained merely as one school among others for three thousand years.[61] Voegelin observes that this strange situation has no other comparison in history. He states:

Why, then should China be singled out as having this characteristic? The reason is that no other civilization is distinguished by a galaxy of original, forceful personalities, engaging in spiritual and intellectual adventures which might have culminated in a radical break with the cosmological order, but invariably got bogged down and had to succumb to the prevailing form.[62]

The complexity of the problem rests not on the absence of differentiation but in its presence. As we have seen, Confucius’ innovative understanding of the sage notion was remarkable, for it envisaged the potential of a person to be responsible for his spiritual relation with the Tao. The chun tzu symbol marked the discovery of the autonomous personality as a source of order.[63]Voegelin explains:

The order of society, which hitherto, had depended on the Son of Heaven alone, now depended, in rivalry with him, on the sage who participated in the order of the cosmos. In the realm of symbols the new experience of the autonomous person and his will to order became manifest in the transfer of imperial qualifications to the sage.  The tao and the teh,[64] whose possession entailed the ordering efficacy of the prince, the ch’un, now became efficacious forces in the soul of the princely man, the chun-tse.  Confucius thus approached the sage and the prince  to the point of blending  them in a symbol closely related to Plato’s philosopher-king.[65]

The Confucian innovation had made it possible to access the tao individually. One was no longer only a member of a society relating to the Tao through mediation of the ruler; now the possibility had been opened up for the individual to become “a potential ruler and a rival to the Son of Heaven in mediating the tao – an idea which, as far as we know, never occurred to an Egyptian.”[66]

Although a certain similarity of the chun tzu notion to the philosopher’s nous appears apparent, what were the differences?  Voegelin suggests there is need to ask what type and degree of differentiation is found.[67] It will be recalled that “differentiation” refers to that anthropological human type of truth wherein Plato “discovered” the psyche as the site of transcendence of the human experience.  When we come to examine the Chinese sage notion, we find no evidence of that sharp distinction between transcendence and immanence. Voegelin attributes the failure to distinguish the difference is due to the Chinese sense of merging. Voegelin considered that “the princely man was governed by the same cosmic fatality as that of the ruler.” For the king had the teh (force) to mediate the cosmic tao (order) to society through the ming, the decree of heaven; and in the same manner it depended on the heavenly ming whether the wisdom of the sage was heard and accepted, so that he would become an effective ordering force in the community.[68] Both the emperor and sage (chun tzu) were subject to the same cosmological fatality of the heavenly ming. Hence, instead of achieving a sharp break in consciousness between “man” and the cosmos as had occurred in Plato’s experience, what we find is that in the Chinese experience, the collective identity persisted.  Unlike the philosopher’s nous which challenged the climate of opinion in Greek society, in the case of China the sage was so well attuned to the cosmic Tao that rather than being a force to oppose the dynastic te [power], he ended up supporting it.[69] Furthermore, because the Chinese experience of the chun tzu notion lacked the radical element of differentiation, a new theological consciousness never developed. Confucianism was never able to break with cosmological thinking.  In fact, the Imperial rulers were able to utilize Confucian scholarship to consolidate their own political power structure. From the time of the Han, Chinese civilization became an imperial power comparable in achievements and history to the Roman Empire.

This discussion has explored the divine perceptions of the Chinese and observed the tendency to merge the order of being. Together with this merging sense there is also an indication of a lack of tension amongst Chinese thinkers as to which was the greatest god. The absence strengthened the idea of order perceived as being harmonious with the cosmos. Hence, all these factors together created the situation where the Chinese experience failed to produce the creative force to enable a complete breakthrough to be achieved. Voegelin, reflecting on the Chinese experience came to the conclusion that it poses an “almost insuperable obstacle to analysis.”[70]Although the Confucian sage notion possessed a certain “aptitude” towards anthropological consciousness, that level of consciousness was never achieved. Confucius’ teaching may have possessed the seeds of a “religion” or spirituality which perhaps in different circumstances might have flowered, but unfortunately it was systematically stifled by the on-going ruling powers.  Confucianism, instead of being the creative movement that it should have been, has – as history has demonstrated – ended up stifling other creative movements. (The Confucianists strongly opposed all heterodox thought). The determination to suppress the creative energy explains China’s predicament today in opposing so-called Western ideas of democracy and human rights.[71]

Voegelin has illuminated an inherent characteristic of Chinese thought, which is the inability to differentiate between the notions of immanence and transcendence. After the creative period of Confucian teaching, the political order was subject to Ch’in and Han expansionism. The era termed as the Ecumenic Age, is understood as “a period in the history of mankind which roughly extends from the rise of the Persian Empire to the fall of the Roman Empire (between the 6th century B.C. and the 6th century A.D.)” The period is characterized as a time of empire building wherein the conquest of many ethnic societies took place.

The Ecumenic Age was characterized by a fundamental division between the temporal and the spiritual poles of existence. A shift of consciousness in Chinese thought took place from the spiritual to the political. The term ecumene originally signified the civilized inhabited world as it was then known.[72] The new consciousness was expressed by the rulers’ desire to establish an empire as an inclusive enterprise. The Ch’in and Han dynasties were based on a rationale of force and power, and the state sacrifices were employed to gain a large share of the benefits of sacrifices and to legitimize the right to govern.[73]

The particular “transformation” of the Confucian age to the Imperial phase was recognized by Voegelin as an “extraordinary” turn of events.[74]The dynasties were not overthrown but continued as if there had been no change.  Consequently, what remained was a political structure with no spiritual substance. The earlier understanding of the cosmological order combined with the ritual experience was displaced.  As a result, the Confucian innovation of the chun tzu was never absorbed into mainstream political consciousness. Bereft of this spiritual substance, the new imperial order relied on power and kuo [force] alone.[75] Voegelin insists that “the end [telos, end, and fulfillment] of all human action does not lie within this world but beyond it.” He states, “Organization, to be sure, is necessary to the existence of man and society in this world, but no organization can organize mankind – even global ecumenicity of organization is not universality.” [76]

The failure of Chinese thought to break from the cosmological mode meant that a transcendent understanding of human nature never featured as any part of the ordering force of Chinese society. As a consequence, in China there was a “less than full conception of man.” The anthropological principle, articulated as the “polis is man written large” (i.e. the person is more significant than the state) has remained dormant in China.

Voegelin’s analysis of various types of human consciousness is very useful today to highlight the underlying difference of world views encountered in the international arena. His analysis of the principle of differentiation provides a philosophical framework which is useful to explore very different cultural positions taken between modern, democratic countries and nations such as China, which tend to ward off the serious question of human rights.[77] It is argued here that China’s legacy of cosmological consciousness is still a present factor in Chinese thinking. The anthropological principle has not as yet taken root.  As Voegelin declares, the principle, i.e. Plato’s discovery that  the psyche is  the site of transcendence in the human experience, is so powerful that it can act as a “wedge” between  immanent and transcendent truth.[78]Societies which do not possess the anthropological consciousness of “man” and society develop a form of order at the risk of the price of the human person.[79]

The loss of substance is present: “The te is the sacral substance of order which can be accumulated in a family through the merits of distinguished ancestors.”[80]The “sacral substance of order” is understood as te.[81] The te validates the dynasty. When the dynasty loses the te, then it is time for another dynasty. Order based on te opens the way for frequent upheavals in China. The process of loss is evident in this century for example in 1911, with the change from the Imperial order to a Republic.[82] Furthermore, in 1929, there was the May Fourth Protest;[83]and more recently, in 1989, there was the students’ protest against the corruption of  Deng Xiao-ping’s rule.[84] Each occasion was an attempt by the people (min) to recover the substance of order in Chinese society and on each occasion the protest made by the people failed.[85] The Chinese experience of order still retains its cosmological characteristics due to the series of repressive rulers and the enforcement of Confucianism. The creative thinking of Confucius failed to lift the Chinese experience to an order where “man is the measure of the polis.”

Postscript

These Papers were written more than twenty years ago, since then there has been the rise of “Imperial China,” which as to some extent has taken the West by surprise. The ruling Chinese party has managed to harness every form of Western technology and extend its influence and control globally. For those, having to make policy decisions and who work in the field of international relations, it seems to me, Eric Voegelin’s penetrating analysis of order in Chinese society is crucial to understanding the West’s relationship with China.  Substantially, China has never changed over 3000 years, and it is this form of order that China is ready to inflict on democratic societies. One need not look too far, as we have current examples of Hong Kong and the present threat to Taiwan.

Notes

[1] Cited in Lee Ou-fan, Voices from the Iron House: A Study of Lu Xun , 1987, p.41

[2] CW 10:159

[3] OH 4:2

[4] O H 4:5-6

[5]Joseph Needham, Science and Civilization in China, Vol. 2, “History of Scientific Thought” (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1956), pp. 580-581.  See also Joseph Shih, “The Notions of God in the Ancient Chinese Religion,” Numen: International Review for the History of Religions (Leiden: Brill), 16 (1969),   p.100.

[6]See Laurence Thompson, Chinese Religion: An Introduction  (Belmont, Cal: Dickenson Pub. Co., 1969), p. 69, see n. 2.

[7]Bruno Schindler, “The Development of the Chinese Conceptions of Supreme Beings”, in Hirth Anniversary Volume, Asia Major, Journal devoted to the Study of Languages, Arts and Civilization of the Far East and Central Asia, Introductory Volume, edited by Bruno Schindler (London: Probsthain, 1923),   p. 299. Schindler notes that if the Sovereign is called “Father and Mother of the nation”, this is no contradiction but is simply one of the numerous linguistic parallelisms brought about by mental association, and customary with the Chinese at all times.  He also remarks that the title  Ti means supreme Master, Ruler, Emperor (p. 336).  When discussing the origins of Shang Ti, Schindler observes that Shang Ti  is not only an ancestor-deity in the ordinary sense but seems to be of a totemistic character. Furthermore, he observes that there is evidence to suggest that the old sacrifices of the ancestor cult have been mingled with the cult of the universe  (p. 355).

[8] Schindler, “The Development of the Chinese Conceptions of Supreme Beings”, in Hirth Anniversary Volume, 1923, p. 301. Schindler cites many examples from the Shu Ching to support  the anthropomorphic idea of Shang Ti.

[9]Ibid., Schindler also notes that  t’ien is considered a Chou term.

[10] Mircea Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion, trans. Rosemary Sheed  (London & New York: Sheed and Ward, 1958), p. 63, see n.1.  Eliade refers to M. Granet, La Religion des Chinois (Paris, 1922), p. 57.

[11] Shih, “The Notions of God in the Ancient Chinese Religion”, p. 112.

[12]See Kristofer Schipper, The Taoist Body, translated by Karen C. Duval (Berkeley, Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1993). See Chapter 3, “Divinity”. Also refer to  Michael La Fargue, Tao and Method: A Reasoned Approach to the Tao Te Ching (New York: State University Press, 1994). La Fargue takes what he calls “a non-foundational position” to examining the Tao. See also Zhang Longxi, The Tao and the Logos: Literary Hermeneutics, East and West (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 1992).

[13] Wing-tsit Chan, translated and compiled,  A Source Book on Chinese Philosophy (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University, 1963),  pp. 500-501.

[14] CW 28: 28

[15] CW 28:28

[16] See Hu Shih, “The Scientific Spirit and Method in Chinese Philosophy”, in Charles A. Moore, ed.,  The Chinese Mind: Essentials of Chinese Philosophy and Culture  (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1967), pp. 104-131. See also Discovering China: European Interpretations in the Enlightenment, Julia Ching and Willard G. Oxtoby, eds., (Rochester, New York: University of Rochester Press, 1992).

[17] Needham, Science and Civilization in China, “History of Scientific Thought”, Vol. 2, 1956, p.14.  Needham writes concerning the absence of tension in Confucianism and considers its “intense concentration of interest upon human social life to the exclusion of non-human phenomena negates all investigation of Things, as opposed to Affairs. Hence, rationalism proved less favourable than mysticism to the progress of science”.  A criticism has been made of Needham’s position by A.C. Graham, Unreason within Reason, in his essay, “China, Europe and the Origins of Modern Science: Needham’s The Grand Titration”  (La Salle, Ill.: Open Court Publ.,1992).

[18] CW 33:271

[19] CW 33: 271

[20] OH 1:39

[21]Fung Yu-lan, A History of Chinese Philosophy, The Period of the Philosophers, Translated by Derk Bodde  (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1952), Vol. I,  pp. 22-24. It is important to note that Voegelin considers polytheism in the Homeric sense as one significant god competing  with another whereas  Fung Yu-lan  descibes polytheism as many gods present but it is not an issue whether one is more important than another. The idea of one god being more important was not significant until  T’ien  became ritualised by the emperors.

[22]Ibid., p. 24.

[23]Ibid.

[24] OH 4:295

[25] Etienne Gilson  refers to  his work, The Unity of Philosophical Experience (New York: Scribner, 1937), p. 313 and p. 316.

[26] Etienne Gilson, Being and Some Philosophers  (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1952),  p. 2.

[27]Ibid., p.2.

[28]CW 5: 149-150; also Voegelin, New Science of Politics, 1952, pp. 76-77.

[29]The Chinese experience is complex as  will be shown when I discuss the Confucian chun tzu.

[30]Fung Yu-lan, A Short History of Chinese Philosophy,  Derk Bodde, ed. (New York: Macmillan Publ., 1948), p. 110.

[31]Gregor Sebba, “Prelude and Variations on the Theme of Eric Voegelin”, Southern Review, 13 (1977), p.  672.

[32]Ibid., Sebba refers to Voegelin’s comment that  “Europocentrism preserves all strata of reality in their own right and grasps the hierarchy of being in its full articulation”.

[33]Ibid.

[34]Ibid.

[35]Voegelin, “Letter to Schütz”, in Opitz, and  Sebba, eds., The Philosophy of Order:  Essays on History, Consciousness and Politics, 1981, p. 455.

[36]See Fred Dallmeyer, “In Search of Order – Eric Voegelin,” Journal of Politics,  51 (1989),  pp. 411- 430.

[37] OH 1:452

[38] CW28:28

[39]There are several important sources where Voegelin examines the Chinese situation. These are found in Order and History, The Ecumenic Age (Baton Rouge and London: Louisiana State University Press, 1974), Chapter 6. “The Chinese Ecumene.”

[40]Cheng Tien-Hsi, China Moulded by Confucius: The Chinese Way in Western Light  (London: Stevens & Sons, 1947).  See p. 37, n.3 . Cheng Tien-Hsi cites Bk. IV, Record of Yu (2205 B.C. Also see Fung Yu-lan, History of Chinese Philosophy, Vol. 1, p. 48. Fung Yu-lan refers to chun tzu, “scholars of the nobler type and hsiao jen meaning “inferior type”. A more recent reference to the chun tzu notion is found in Simon Leys, Translation and notes,  The Analects of Confucius  (New York: W.W. Norton & Co.), 1997, pp.105-107.  Leys writes:

Before Confucius, the word junzi (gentleman) merely indicated social status. A major originality of Confucian thought is to have progressively divested this notion of its social definition and to have endowed it with a new, purely ethical content. This transformation had huge and radical implications, as it was eventually to call into question the fundamental structure of the aristocratic-feudal order. For the old concept of an hereditary elite it substituted the notion of an elite based not on birth or wealth, but purely determined by virtue, culture, talent, competence, and merit.

[41]D.C.Lau, translated, Confucius: The Analects (Lun Yu), (Hong Kong: The Chinese University Press, 1983).  Lau writes, “There is no doubt, however, that the ideal moral character for Confucius is the chun tzu (gentleman), as he discussed in more than eighty Chapters in the Analects. Chun tzu and hsiao jen (small man) are correlative and contrasted terms. The former is used of men in authority while the latter is used of those who are ruled. In the Analects, however, chun tzu and hsiao jen are essentially moral terms.” Introduction, p. xi-xii.

[42]Cheng Tien-Hsi, China Moulded by Confucius, The Chinese Way in Western Light, 1947, p. 38. Cheng Tien-Hsi cites Lun Yu, Pt IV,Ch.5, secs.2-3. The following is from Simon Leys, translation,  The Analects of Confucius, 1997:

The Master said: “Riches and rank are what every man craves; yet if the only way to obtain them goes against his principles, he should desist from such a pursuit. Poverty and obscurity are what every man hates; yet if the only escape from them goes against his principles, he should accept his lot. If a gentleman forsakes humanity, how can he make a name for himself? Never for a moment does a gentleman part from humanity; he clings to it through trials, he clings to it through tribulations” (4.5).

[43]Wing- Tsit Chan, translator and compiler, A  Source Book, 1963, p. 16. He notes that for Confucius the man of jen is the perfect man. He is the true chun-tzu, he is the man of the Golden Rule.

[44]Ibid., See also Cheng Tien-Hsi, China Moulded by Confucius, The Chinese Way in Western Light, 1947, p. 38.

[45]Fung Yu-lan, History of Chinese Philosophy, Vol. 1, 1952,  p. 68.

[46]Frederick W. Mote, Intellectual Foundations of China ( New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1971),  p. 39.

[47]Wing-tsit Chan, translator and compiler, A Source Book, 1963, p.15. Wing-tsit Chan explains that Confucius in his reference to the sage emperors, Yao and Shun and Duke of Chou, was looking back to the past for  “ideal men”.

[48] E.R. Hughes, The Individual in East and West (London: Oxford University Press, 1937), p. 88.

[49]Ibid., p. 94.

[50]Ibid., pp. 94-95.

[51]Mote, Intellectual Foundations of China, 1971,  pp. 39-40.

[52] See Leys, The Analects of Confucius, 1997, p. 159. Leys comments, “Confucian education was not an acquisition of technical information, but a development of one’s humanity – it was not a matter of having, but of being.  In the universality of his humanism, the Confucian gentleman was the exact equivalent of the honnête homme of classical France”.

[53]Mote, Intellectual Foundations of China, 1971,   pp. 39-40.

[54]Fung Yu-lan, History of Chinese Philosophy, 1952, Vol. 1, pp. 68-69.

[55]Ibid., p. 67. “Man’s life is to be upright (chih). If one makes crooked this life, one is lucky to escape (disaster)” (IV,17). Also,  “When the ‘basic stuff’ (chih) exceeds training (wen) you have the rustic. When training exceeds ‘the basic stuff’ you have the clerk. It is only when the ‘basic stuff’ and training (li) are proportionately blended that you have the Superior Man” (VI, 16) (p. 69).

[56]Leys, The Analects of Confucius, 1997. (I have cited from the text of Fung Yu-lan, History of Chinese Philosophy, 1952, Vol. 1,  unless otherwise stated).

[57]Fung Yu-lan, History of Chinese Philosophy, 1952, Vol. 1, p. 75.  Leys, The Analects of Confucius, 1997, trans: The Master said: “What nature put together, habit separates”  (17.2).

[58]Fung Yu-lan, History of Chinese Philosophy, 1952, Vol. 1, p. 75.

[59]See Cheng Chung-ying, “Chinese Philosophy”,  Inquiry, 14 (1971),  p. 118.

[60]Fung Yu-lan, History of Chinese Philosophy, 1952, Vol.  I,  p. 2.

[61] OH1: 62

[62] OH4:285

[63] OH1: 61-62

[64]Refer to Wing-Tsit Chan, A  Source Book in Chinese Philosophy, 1963.  Chan observes that te is not found in the oracle bones on which the Shang  ideas and events are recorded, but is a key word in early Chou documents. This fact marked an important shift of thought.  The destiny of a dynasty did not depend on some heavenly power but on the practice of “virtue”.  There was still recognition of heaven but  now man could control his own destiny by his moral deeds (pp. 3-4).  See also Peter Boodberg, “The Semasiology: Some Primary Confucian Concepts”, Philosophy East and West 2 (1953), pp. 324-25.  Boodberg writes, This character is made up of graphs for “heart” and “upright”. Its meaning suggested keeping true to one’s essence or normal state or function. Te is sometimes described as an acquired quality, and it is significant that the word was  often defined  by the Chinese scholars by the homonym te, “to acquire” “to obtain”.

[65] OH1: 62-64

[66] OH 1:62

[67] OH4: 286

[68] OH1: 62

[69] OH1: 62

[70] OH4: 285

[71]James D. Seymour, “Human Rights in China”, Current History, Sept (1994), pp. 256-259.

[72] CW11:150

[73] CW11:146

[74] OH4: 298-299

[75]The notion of the chun tzu was taken over by Chinese philosophers but never  energised Chinese political thought. The idea that man is the measure of the polis  never prevailed in Chinese political order. Instead the idea of the Emperor as the “One-Man” always persisted.  Collective consciousness is the underlying reality of Chinese political order.

[76] CW11:155

[77]See Yuan-li et al., Human Rights in the People’s Republic of China  (Boulder: Westview Press, 1988); Ann Kent, Between Freedom and Substance: China and Human Rights (Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1993); James D. Seymour, “Human Rights in China”, Current History (Sept, 1994), pp. 256-253; Davis Wen-Wei Chang, “Confucianism, Democracy and Socialism: The Communist Search For a New Typology With Chinese Characteristics”  Asian Thought and Society, 17, 51 (1992), pp.179-194.

[78] CW 5: 136; or Voegelin, The New Science of Politics, 1952, p. 60.

[79]Ibid., pp. 60-61.

[80]Voegelin, Order and History, The Ecumenic Age, Vol. 4, 1974,  p. 277.  See also Philip J. Ivanhoe, Confucian Moral Self-Cultivation  (New York: Peter Lang, 1993).  Introduction, p. 2.  Ivanhoe remarks that te, virtue, is related to te, to get or gain. One who has virtue has some sort of hold or a kind of power. In this sense it is specially a power over others. He writes:

In this early period the notion of te is almost always found in texts concerning rulers and had the sense of that virtue particularly a good ruler: royal virtue. Royal virtue enabled the king to accomplish a great deal but most importantly it enabled him to get the endorsement of the ancestral spirits. Such support was thought necessary for him to gain and maintain his rule.

[81] Te, see  Leys also suggests that  te “usually translated as ‘virtue’; this translation would be appropriate if the reader could spontaneously understand it in its original, primary meaning: ‘virtue,’ like Latin ‘virtus,’ the Italian ‘virtu,’ or the French vertu, had a connotation of ‘power’ which became largely lost in later usage …”.   The Master said: “Failure to cultivate moral power, failure to explore what I have learned, incapacity to stand by what I know to be right, incapacity to reform what is not good – these are my worries.” (p. 150).

[82]Many works deal with these events, e.g. Jean Chesneaux, Marianne Bastid, and Marie-Claire Bergere, Translated from the French by Anne Destenay, China from the Opium Wars to the 1911 Revolution (New York: Pantheon, 1976).

[83]See Conrad Schirokauer, A Brief History of Chinese and Japanese Civilisations (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1978), pp. 477-478.

[84]Refer to Trevor Watson, Tremble and Obey: An ABC Correspondent’s Account of the Bloody Beijing Spring (Crows Nest, NSW: ABC Book, 1990); Donald Morrison ed., Massacre in Beijing: China’s Struggle for Democracy (New York: Warner Communications, 1989).

[85]This process will occur again and in fact is kept alive by such people as Wei Jingsheng, a Chinese dissident who has spent sixteen years in jail for his attack on the government of Deng Xiao-ping.  (See The Weekend Australian, May 31-June 1, 1997.  There is a push to give Wei Jingsheng the Nobel Peace Prize. (At present he is in the U.S.A.)

This is the second of two parts with part one available here.

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