A View from the 'Hill

China Post editorial:

That people throughout Taiwan got up before dawn, put on purple gowns, lit incense and watched eight rows of eight children in yellow costumes and peacock feathers perform a slow dance was not unusual; these rituals to honor Confucius are held annually on September 28. What was strange was that similar events were also held in China, which spent most of the twentieth century attempting to diminish the influence of Confucius' teachings and to dislodge “The Sage” from his pedestal.

The political changes that led to the overthrow of the imperial system in 1911 and establishment of the Republic of China the following year were quickly followed by the New Culture Movement, which sought the overthrow of a whole range of traditions that its leaders, Lu Xun, Hu Shih and others, held responsible for holding back China's development into a modern nation. Confucian influence over morality, education and public office came especially under attack, as did Confucius himself, as a symbol of the ossification of Chinese culture.

Although somewhat rehabilitated later under Republican rule, Confucius was again vilified by the Chinese Communist Party, which dedicated itself to smashing the “Four Olds”: old customs, old culture, old habits and old ideas.

This reached its peak during the Cultural Revolution, when Red Guards ran amok in Confucius' hometown of Qufu in Shandong Province. With connivance of the central government, they smashed or destroyed thousands of cultural artifacts relating to the man who, for two millennia, had been revered as the nation's sage and its first teacher.

So it is even more surprising that Communist Party officials were among those honoring this erstwhile villain in Qufu and elsewhere this morning; that Yu Dan's “Confucius from the Heart: Ancient Wisdom for Today's World” stayed on the Chinese bestseller list for more than two years, selling around 10 million copies; that 2,008 performers at the opening ceremony for the 2008 Beijing Olympics sang “Friends have come from afar, how happy we are,” in quotation from the “Confucian Analects;” that a biopic of Confucius' life starring Chow Yun-fat received government sponsorship; that “guoxue” — national learning, the study of traditional Chinese history, culture and literature — is currently undergoing a nationwide resurgence; and that when the PRC decided to set up a system of international institutes along the lines of the British Council or Alliance Francaise to promote Chinese language and culture, it decided to call them the Confucius Institutes.

Some people, most vocally those in South Korea, have suggested that the PRC's reappraisal of its views on Confucius is merely a cynical attempt to cash in on his international “brand recognition,” and have attacked the institutes as tools of Chinese cultural imperialism. But the truth is more complicated.

First, like the words of many philosophers, teachers and religious leaders whose reputations have endured over long periods, Confucius' teachings are ambiguous enough and so open to interpretation that they have been adopted and adapted by a variety of disparate interests, and that what started as a revolutionary perspective was quickly usurped and became a force for conservatism over the following two millennia.

This started with compilation of “The Analects” by the disciples of the disciples that succeeded Confucius himself; through codification of Confucian ideas into the official imperial philosophy and required reading for civil service examinations during the Han dynasty; reinterpretation by Zhu Xi in the Song Dynasty a thousand years later, which established the Neo-Confucianism that held sway until the end of the imperial system a century ago, and most recently has led to Yu Dan's idiosyncratic interpretation that has captured public imagination but has irritated many experts who accuse her of distorting Confucius' teachings.

So should the world be surprised by China's recent reappraisal and adoption of Confucius?
Perhaps not. First, although it is sometimes portrayed in the West as a religion — not surprisingly, perhaps, in light of the Sept. 28 ritual offerings made to The Sage — Confucianism is really a codification of ethics or even a political science.

Second, the Confucian concepts of righteousness, reciprocity and the Golden Rule — of doing unto others what you would have done to oneself — contrast sharply with the West's emphasis on self and self-interest, but accord with Communist ideals of communality.

Third, as the Communist Party has moved away from a true espousal of orthodox ideals, Confucianism might offer a source of legitimacy to party rule by filling the ideological void left by the abandonment of Marxism.

Most importantly, as stated in the government's explanation for choosing the name “Confucius Institute,” it manifests the longevity and profundity of Chinese language and culture. In other words, like at every change of dynasty or regime in China, the CCP started with promises of change but is ending up by appealing to the nation's glorious past and adopting many of the values, traditions and practices of its predecessors.

Although quieter than the changes pursued during the Cultural Revolution, this represents a truly radical change in China at the start of the 21st century.