The term “Neo-Daoism” (or “Neo-Taoism”) seeksto capture the focal development in early medieval Chinese philosophy,roughly from the third to the sixth century C.E. Chinese sourcesgenerally identify this development asXuanxue, or“Learning (xue) in the Profound(xuan).”
“Xuan” literally denotes a shade of black withdark red. By extension, it gains a richer meaning connoting what ishidden from view or far from reach, especially in the sense of aprofound truth that escapes ordinary comprehension, and thus appears“dark” or mysterious. In this latter sense, it figuresprominently in theLaozi (Daodejing). The Dao or“Way” is “formless” and“nameless,” as theLaozi asserts, and yet it isthe “beginning” of “heaven and earth,” and thebasis of human flourishing. Indescribably deep and profound, the Daotherefore can only be depicted as dark and hidden, orxuan(see especiallyLaozi, Chapter 1).
Xuanxue aimed at unlocking the mystery of Dao, and in sodoing came to define the early medieval Chinese intellectual scene.However, it was not a partisan “Daoist” school. As such,the label “Neo-Daoism” is ambiguous and should be treatedwith care, though it may be convenient and widely used.Xuanxue harbored a wide range of views. The concept of Daoprovided a focus, but it invited diverse interpretation.Xuanxue arose during a time of political turmoil after thefall of the Han dynasty (206 B.C.E.–220 C.E.), when leadingintellectuals of the succeeding Wei (220–265) and Jin(265–420) dynasties interrogated tradition afresh, so as toarrive at a new blueprint for order. This occasioned intense debatesand set new directions for the development of Chinese philosophy. Thediscussion that follows will set out briefly the context in whichNeo-Daoism made its mark, and introduce some of its major figures anddebates.
As a proper term,Xuanxue gained currency during the fifthcentury C.E. It named a branch of learning that formed a part of thecurriculum of the imperial academy. The subject matter ofXuanxue in this formal sense centered on theYijing(Classic of Changes), theLaozi, theZhuangzi, andselected commentaries on them. These three classical texts were seento hold deep insight into the cosmos and the human condition, and werereferred to collectively as the “Three (Great Works on the)Profound” (sanxuan). They articulated their vision of“grand harmony” and “great peace” through theconcept of Dao, which demanded explication. It is precisely the goalofXuanxue, then, to bring to light the nature and functionof Dao, which may appear dark or impenetrable.
In a wider sense,Xuanxue came to describe, retrospectively,the main current of early medieval Chinese philosophy as a whole. Thisis a broad stroke that privileges intellectual unity over diversity.However, as we will see, family resemblances notwithstanding, thereare significant differences among individualXuanxue thinkersin their understanding of Dao. Looking back, later historianstypically traced the beginnings ofXuanxue to the early thirdcentury C.E. The end of the Han dynasty caused painful disruptions,but it also forced open a space for intellectual renewal. In thiscontext, the educated elite debated on ways to restore order andharmony, based on their interpretation of the teachings of the ancientsages and philosophers. The hermeneutical contest was keen, and newideas came to the fore through the critical engagement with tradition.Nevertheless, there was a shared assumption that any blueprint forlasting peace and harmony must rest on a clear understanding of Dao,which provided a point of departure for the unfolding ofNeo-Daoism.
WhileXuanxue was guided by what may be called a keen“Dao-centered” consciousness, it was not a Daoist movementaimed at dismantling the teachings of Confucius. There is also somedebate as to whether Neo-Daoism abandoned sociopolitical engagementfor a kind of individualistic escapism. These two points warrantfurther discussion, which should give a thicker description of thecontext in which Neo-Daoism came into play.
The close connection betweenXuanxue and “PureConversation” (qingtan) is often cited as evidencepointing to the former’s escapist interests. Pure Conversationwas one of the hallmarks of early medieval Chinese literati culture.In its mature form, it found expression in high-minded debates ontopical philosophical concerns, such as the relationship between“capacity” and “nature” in a person (to bediscussed in Section 5 below). Pure Conversation has been traced to aprotest movement against political corruption that erupted toward theend of the Han period. The protests were harshly suppressed.Consequently, some commentators argue, many intellectuals becamedisillusioned with the political process. Fearing for their safetyalso, they turned to, as it were, “purer” pursuits,channeling their creative energy to art and philosophy, away from thetreacherous waters of politics. Culturally, they indulged in wine,games, including Pure Conversation, and outlandish behavior thatseemed to have been designed expressly to upset the status quo.Examples of these will be mentioned below. AsXuanxueinformed Pure Conversation philosophically, it is therefore chargedwith having given rein to a spirit of disengagement that took refugein unproductive intellectual exchanges and certain counter-cultureexpressions.
No doubt, many literati in early medieval China found politics to beexceedingly corrupt. During this time, eremitic ideals also becameentrenched in mainstream high culture. Nevertheless, these alone donot afford a full view of the vibrant intellectual landscape. Whilesome scholars had lost faith in the political process, many othersremained committed to revitalizing the rule of Dao, however it mightbe defined, and pushed for reforms. While some considered politicalinvolvement distasteful and trained their minds on alternative pathsof fulfillment such as music and spirituality, others sought toreclaim the true teachings of the sages of old, so as to bring about anew sociopolitical awakening. These are not mutually exclusivepositions, and both sides contributed to the formation of Neo-Daoism.Indeed, eremitism in early medieval China seldom translated intoabandoning the sociopolitical world; in most cases, it signaledpersonal “purity” or integrity, a highly valued asset ifnot a precondition for admission to officialdom. Certainly,philosophical debates need not always be about political reforms;nevertheless, especially for young scholars aspiring to make a namefor themselves in public life, successes at Pure Conversation couldreap substantial political dividends. As a general intellectualmovement,Xuanxue is united in its attempt to illuminate the“dark,” to lay bare the profound mystery of Dao, but itencompasses a range of responses to the brave new world that waspost-Han China.
During the heyday of the Han dynasty, the Confucian tradition, as itwas interpreted at that time, towered over all the other schools ofthought. Confidently, it mapped out the structure of the universe andthe ways in which the world under heaven ought to be governed. Withthe decline of the Han dynasty, critiques of Han Confucianism began tosurface. To some scholars then, Han Confucianism was not onlypowerless in arresting the growing malaise, but also part of theproblem that led to the downfall of the Han dynasty. The critique ofHan Confucianism, it is important to emphasize, does not necessarilyamount to a rejection of the teachings of Confucius. In fact, with fewexceptions, Wei-Jin scholars agreed that Confucius was the highestsage. It is thus important to clarify that the term“Neo-Daoism” does not refer to a kind of“anti-Confucius” movement. For the majority ofXuanxue proponents, Confucius had penetrated completely themystery of Dao; it was the misunderstanding and misappropriation ofConfucian teachings by Han scholars that created difficulties and thusrequired rectification.
One key concern was that scholarship had become an avenue foremolument, as a result of which self-interest came to outweigh theconcern for truth. This in part explains the emphasis on purity inearly medieval Chinese literati culture. Furthermore, Han Confucianismattempted to forge an “orthodox” front, to explain and putinto practice its teachings, and to silence dissent and opposition.The extent of Confucian orthodox control may be open to debate, butthere is little question that it sought to exact compliance, which setlimits to thought. The classics were restricted to a particular modeof interpretation, and non-canonical literature, including Daoistworks, were often viewed with suspicion or dismissed outright. In theinterest of unity, orthodoxy prescribed closure; but in an age ofdisunity and disruption, the quest for order charged throughintellectual barriers with emancipatory fervor.
During the Han period, commentaries emerged as the principal medium ofphilosophic discourse. Methodologically, Han commentaries emphasizeddetailed explanation of individual words and phrases of the classics.This necessitated heavy specialization, which heightened virtuositybut also opened the door for vain scholastic display and fragmentationof learning. One of the most important debates inXuanxueconfronts directly the question of interpretation, which broughthermeneutics to the forefront of Chinese philosophy. More will be saidabout this debate later.
In this context, a first wave ofXuanxue philosophers arrivedon the scene. They were the brightest of their age, many of whomhailed from distinguished families who had held high office forgenerations. They were concerned with restoring unity and harmony tothe land, not by repudiating the teachings of the sages but byinterpreting them anew. They discerned that the great teachers of oldsuch as Confucius and Laozi shared a profound understanding of Dao,and for this reason, the highly partisan approach of Han Confucianismcould not but lead to grave misunderstanding of the sage enterprise.In response, they devised new commentarial strategies and fashionednew genres of philosophical discourse, especially thelun,critical discussions, essays or disquisitions that focus on particulartopics, which often elicited refutations and in turn, rejoinders. Someexamples of this will be discussed in the sections that follow.
On this view, Confucius and Laozi were both “Daoists,” inthe non-partisan sense of the term. Neo-Daoist philosophers set forththe truth of Dao as they understood it in a broad synthesis, bringingtogether ontology, cosmology, ethics, and political philosophy, andbreaking down partisan divides along the way. Convinced of the unityof the classics, they attempted to provide an integral account of theone “Daoist” tradition. Crossing swords in debate,competing in offering new readings of the classics, reacting againstand influenced by one another—in this crisscrossing of ideas,Xuanxue flourished.
Translating the termXuanxue remains a challenge. In view ofthe ambiguity of “Neo-Daoism,” “Dark Learning”has been proposed as an alternative. This is also not entirelysatisfactory. Even if it is clear that “dark” does notconnote something sinister, it is still problematic because while thesubject of the inquiry appears dark or inaccessible to understanding,there is nothing mysterious about the inquiry itself. Innovative andabstract in some respects,Xuanxue is nonetheless committedto analytic rigor and clarity in explicating the meaning of Dao. Theculture of disputation has deep roots in Chinese history, and rigorousdebates on the classics became prevalent during the Han period, whichfueled the development of Neo-Daoist philosophy.
Critics ofXuanxue condemned it as “dark,”because they judged it to be obfuscating and detrimental to theflourishing of the Way. They would use phrases like “darkwords” (xuanyan) or “dark talk”(xuantan) in a pejorative sense, indicating that to themXuanxue was nothing but empty talk, convoluted, mystifyingand misguided. In these contexts, “xuan” may betranslated as “abstruse,” “obscure,” or wordsto that effect. What this suggests is that uniform translation withoutregard to context might be ill advised. Grammatically the wordxuan functions as a noun in “Xuanxue.”Perhaps “Learning in the Profound,” “Learning of theMysterious Dao,” “Inquiry into the Profound” orsimilar renderings may be considered, though they seem ratherbulky.
AsXuanxue philosophy is seen to offer a fresh approach tounderstanding the nature and function of Dao, it has come to be calledxin daojia (literally, new school of Daoist thought) in somemodern Chinese studies, or “Neo-Daoism” in Englishtranslation. In the pages that follow, the termsXuanxue andNeo-Daoism will be used interchangeably in a general sense, as abroad, dynamic intellectual front that flourished during earlymedieval China, as opposed to a homogeneous “school” withset doctrines. In modern Chinese,Xuanxue is also taken torefer to astrology, geomancy and other popular religious arts, whichfall outside the scope of this discussion.
Among the first wave of Neo-Daoist philosophers, He Yan (ca.207–249) and Wang Bi (226–249) are often singled out bylater scholars as having laid the foundation of the new Learning inthe Profound. According to theJin shu (History of the JinDynasty), He Yan, Wang Bi, and some of their contemporaries set forththe meaning ofLaozi andZhuangzi, and establishedthe view that all beings “have their roots in nothingness(wu),” which not only “originates things”but also “completes affairs.” As theJin shu goeson to relate,wu is that which the yin and yangqi,vital forces or “energies,” depend on in their creativetransformation, that which all beings depend on in acquiring theirform, and that which the morally worthy depend on in acquiring theirvirtuous character (Chapter 43). This furnishes a helpful startingpoint for a reconstruction ofXuanxue philosophy.
He Yan was one of the leading intellectual figures of the early thirdcentury, a trend setter on the cultural front, and one of the mostinfluential in government. Wang Bi was very much aprotégé of He Yan. A widely reported story, for example,has He Yan declaring that Wang Bi was one of those rare individualswith whom one could discuss the most profound truths about the cosmosand human affairs (e.g., seeSanguo zhi [Records of the ThreeStates] 28).
Both He Yan and Wang Bi were known for their expertise in theYijing. Both were deeply interested in theLaozi.Wang Bi’sLaozi andYijing commentariesoccupied an esteemed place in the formalXuanxue curriculum,and arguably they remain the most important philosophical treatment ofthe two classics today. However, it should be noted that both He Yanand Wang Bi wrote on the ConfucianLunyu (Analects)as well. Through their extant writings, we gain a good view of themain contours ofXuanxue philosophy.
TheJin shu account cited above identifies the concept ofwu as the locus ofXuanxue. The concept plays acritical role in theLaozi and has been translated variouslyas “nonbeing,” “nothing,” or“nothingness.” In classical Chinese,wu generallyconveys the sense of “not having” something—e.g.,“not having a name” (wu ming)—and functionsas the opposite of “you,” “having”something. In theLaozi, it is used as an abstract noun aswell. Specifically, theLaozi states thatwu is thesource of all beings (Chapter 40) and the basis of all functions(Chapter 11).
To He Yan and many of his contemporaries, there is little doubt thatthe meaning of Dao is to be sought in the concept ofwu; but,it does not follow that they all understood the latter in the sameway. The translation of the termwu will need to reflect theparticular interpretation in question. In this section, the discussionon He Yan and Wang Bi will focus on their understanding of Dao aswu and its practical implications.
He Yan’s writings exist mainly in fragments today. The mostimportant are (1) his commentary to theLunyu, which was,however, a collective effort jointly submitted to the throne withseveral other scholars, and (2) quotations from two of his essaysentitledWuming lun (Critical Discussion on the Nameless) andDao lun (Critical Discussion on Dao) preserved in latersources. In the former of the two essays, He Yan explicitly definesthe Dao aswu. In the latter, theDao lun, there isa fuller discussion of the meaning of nothingness:
Beings depend onwu in coming into existence, in becomingwhat they are. Affairs on account ofwu come to fruition andbecome what they are. Now, one tries to speak aboutwu, butno words could describe it; name it, but it has no name; look at it,but it does not have any form; listen to it, but it does not give anysound. Then, indeed, it is clear that the Dao is complete(quan). Thus, it can bring forth sounds and echoes; generateqi energies and things; establish form and spirit; andilluminate light and shadows. What is dark obtains its blackness fromit; what is plain obtains its whiteness from it. The carpenter’ssquare is able to make a square because of it; the compass is able tomake a circle because of it. The round and the square obtain theirform, but that which gives them their form itself does not have anyform. The white and the black obtain their name, but that which givesthem their name itself does not have any name.
Few scholars in early medieval China would question the generalassertion that the Dao is the “beginning” and“mother” of all things, as theLaozi puts it(Chapter 1). There was also widespread acknowledgement of thenamelessness and formlessness of Dao. After all, as the opening wordsof theLaozi famously proclaim, “The Dao that can bespoken of is not the constant Dao.” The real issue is how canthat which transcends language and perception be said to be thecreative source of all beings?
According to He Yan, the solution to the mystery of Dao lies inrecognizing its “completeness” or undifferentiatedwholeness (quan). Precisely because the Dao is whole andcomplete, it is able to bring forth heaven and earth and the myriadcreatures. For the same reason, in its undifferentiated fullness theDao does not have any particular form, and as such cannot be pinneddown conceptually and named. Even the term “Dao,” as theLaozi makes clear, is but a metaphor, a “forced”effort to reference a reality that is ultimately ineffable (Chapter25). He Yan stresses the same point in his “Critical Discussionon the Nameless”: “The Dao [i.e., what the word‘Dao’ seeks to point to] fundamentally has no name. Thus,Laozi said he could only force a name on it.”
Put differently, the Dao can only be described aswu becauseit does not have any distinguishable feature or propertycharacteristic of things. On this reading,wu does notsignify ontological absence, but on the contrary attests to thefullness and fecundity of the Dao. More precisely, through a processof differentiation, the Dao generates the yin and yangqithat constitute all phenomena. TheLaozi has also made thepoint that the Dao is “undifferentiated and complete”(Chapter 25). This is now shown to be the source of the yin and yangqi—vital forces, pneumas, or loosely,“energies”—that engender, shape and sustain life. Inthis respect, He Yan adhered generally to the yin-yang cosmologicaltheory established since the Han dynasty. Viewed in this light, thenothingness of Dao has important implications for ethics and politicalphilosophy.
Under theqi theory, all things are constituted by aparticular measure, both quantitative and qualitative, of the yin andyangqi energies. For example, heaven is constituted by aparticularly clear and refined form ofqi, whereas thesolidity of earth reflects its “heavier”qicomposition. For human beings, each person has been endowed with anallotment ofqi from birth, which informs his or her inborn“nature” (xing). In traditional Chinese terms,theqi endowment of an individual may be “thick”or “thin.” How this is understood bears directly on theconception of the ideal ethical or spiritual life and politicalcommunity.
He Yan affirms in hisLunyu commentary that the inborn“xing-nature is that which human beings have beenendowed with, and which enables them to live” (5.13). This is tobe understood in terms ofqi, which also accounts for aperson’s “capacity” (cai) (commentary toLunyu 15.29). In this context, the concept ofcai isgiven a wide remit, encompassing the full range of talent and abilitysuch as physical endowment, intelligence, and emotional and moralcapacity.Xuanxue scholars debated hotly on the relationshipbetween a person’s nature and capacity, of which more will besaid later.
The height of ethical and spiritual attainment is, of course,represented by the figure of the sage. To He Yan, the sage isprecisely someone who is gifted with an exceptionally fine and richqi endowment, which enables him to “merge with thevirtue of heaven and earth” (commentary toLunyu 14.35and 16.8). This follows the language of theYijing andintroduces a political dimension, for the virtue of heaven and earthbrings about communal flourishing. Nevertheless, the underlyingassumption remains that “sagehood” rests on a specialinborn sage nature that finds expression in optimal capacity on allfronts. This also means that “sageness” cannot be acquiredthrough learning or effort; in other words, sages are born, notmade.
He Yan is noted for his view that the sage “does not experiencepleasure and anger, or sorrow and joy” (Sanguo zhi 28,commentary). Later scholars have taken this to mean more generallythat the sage “does not have emotions” (wuqing).However, this does not imply that the sage lacks the capacity togenerate cognitive and affective responses. In He Yan’sinterpretation, the nature of the sage is ultimately modeled on thatof the Dao. Given that the Dao embodies the fullness ofqi,conceptually it should be evident that the sage cannot be lacking inany way. The exceptionalqi constitution of the sage meansthat his nature, like that of the Dao, is also undifferentiated andcomplete. As such, the sage is never partial or affected by phenomena;untouched by affective interests, his mind is always clear andtranquil, free from doubt and emotional disturbances. Consequently, onthe political level, he is able to govern with impartiality, providefor the people with his profound virtue, establish lasting order andusher in the perfect reign of great peace.
This is an ideal construct. It may be logically coherent or evencompelling, a mark of philosophical distinction prized byPure-conversation connoisseurs, but what real bearing does it have onpolitics and government? Sages—fantastic individuals born with asage nature on He Yan’s view—are obviously rare. Ifsagehood is not a genuine ethical option that can be achieved throughlearning and effort, a new model needs to be found. Logically,attention should then turn to “worthy” individuals likeYan Hui, the gifted and cherished disciple of Confucius, who is“close to the way of the sage” (commentary toLunyu 11.19).
However, Yan Hui is also a special case, whose accomplishments arethemselves quite extraordinary (e.g., commentary toLunyu6.3) and reflect a superiorqi endowment. Only a select few,in other words, can hope to match the attainment of Yan Hui. This ineffect marks out a separate class of exceptional individuals, the trueelite, so to speak, whose inborn capacity far surpasses that of thecommon people and therefore should be entrusted with the task ofgovernment. Fair-minded and intellectually gifted, such individualsare also able to identify the right talent for public office, whichwould ensure the proper functioning of sociopolitical processes on asustained basis. Capacity is a function ofqi, and just asone grows hot under the collar when angry or turns pale in moments offear, the idea is that one’sqi constitution can bediscerned by the expert, especially by looking into the person’seyes. Once it is understood that the nothingness of Dao reflects thefullness ofqi, a clear view of the cosmos and the humancondition emerges, on the basis of which renewed peace and harmony maythen be realized.
Together with He Yan, Wang Bi helped set the course of Neo-Daoistphilosophy. Although they shared similar philosophical concerns andwere close socially and politically, it should not be assumed thatthey approached the mystery of Dao in the same way.
Wang Bi was a prolific scholar. Before his untimely death at the ageof twenty-three, he had already completed a major commentary each ontheYijing and theLaozi, two shorter interpretiveessays on them, and a work on theLunyu. This last,unfortunately, has not survived except for about fifty quotations,cited chiefly in Huang Kan’s (488–545) comprehensiveLunyu commentary.
Like He Yan, Wang Bi focuses on the concept of“nothingness” (wu) in his explication of Dao. ForHe Yan, the nothingness of Dao bespeaks its undifferentiated fullness.Wang Bi, however, holds a different view. The argument fromDao’s completeness cannot explain fully the mystery of Dao,according to Wang. This is because it fails to resolve the problem ofinfinite regress. If the chain of beings were to be traced to aspecific agent or entity, the origin of the latter must itself bequestioned. What gives rise to the category of beings cannot be abeing, no matter how powerful or fecund, with or withoutdifferentiated features. Taken to its logical conclusion, the argumentcannot be thatwu marks the incomparable being of the Dao;rather, as Wang Bi states explicitly, “Dao” serves but as“the designation ofwu” (commentary toLunyu 7.6, cf. commentary toLaozi 25).
The genesis of the cosmos certainly cannot be understood apart fromDao, but it is not the work of a primordial being or substance. As alinguistic representation, a metaphor in effect, “Dao”brings up the image of a great thoroughfare of life, from which allbeings arise, but it does not entail an objective referent. Theformlessness and namelessness of Dao signals a deeper reality. Tobring to light the profound mystery of Dao, reflection must venturebeyond the conceptual confines of what may be called an ontology ofqi to discern the logic ofwu.
TheLaozi asserts that “Dao gives birth to one,”which produces “two,” and in turn the myriad beings(Chapter 42). Whereas commentators from the Han period onwardgenerally identified the “one” with the originalqi that generated the yin and yang vital forces—the“two”—at the beginning of time, Wang Bi may be saidto have effected a paradigm shift in redirecting attention to thelogical ground of the multiplicity and diversity of beings.
As Wang Bi understands it, “beginning” is not a temporalreference but signifies logical priority. It is true that“two” would be inconceivable without “one,”but this is a conceptual relation not to be reduced to a hierarchy ofsubstances or vital forces (commentary toLaozi 42, drawingfromZhuangzi, Chapter 2). Dao constitutes the absolutebeginning in that all beings have causes and conditions which in theend must logically derive from a single source; but, like“Dao,” “one” remains a symbol and does notreference any original substance or agent. Significantly, as Wang Bimakes the point in both hisYijing andLaozicommentaries, in this sense “one” isnot a numberbut that which makes possible all numbers and functions. In the latter(commentary toLaozi 39), Wang defines “one” as“the beginning of numbers and the ultimate of things.” Inthe former (commentary to Appended Remarks, Part I), he writes,“In the amplification of the numbers of heaven and earth [inYijing divination] … ‘one’ is not used.Because it is not used, use [of the others] is made possible; becauseit is not a number, numbers are made complete. This indeed is thegreat ultimate of change.”
“All things in the world are born of something (you);something is born of nothing (wu),” according to theLaozi (Chapter 40). How this is interpreted defines theapproach to Dao by individualXuanxue scholars. WangBi’s view is that Dao is not a nameless and formless somethingof which nothing can be said. Dao or Way indeed gives the sense thatall beings are derived from the same source, but it points ultimatelyto that which is other than being,wu(“not-being”), a conceptually necessary basis of being. Inthis way, the mystery of Dao, that it is both nothing and responsiblefor everything, may be explained.
This does not invalidate the yin-yang cosmological theory, which doesyield important insight into the workings of nature and society.Nevertheless, cosmology cannot lay bare the highest Daoist truth, withwhich the sages of old were principally concerned. In Wang Bi’sreworking,wu emerges as a higher-order concept that accountsfor the coming to be ofqi and allqi-constitutedphenomena. On He Yan’s reading, it would be appropriate to speakof “the Dao,” with the definite article; but in WangBi’s interpretation, Dao is entirely symbolic and any attempt atreification must be resisted. This affirms the radical transcendenceor otherness of Dao aswu. At the same time, by means of theconcept of “one,” Wang maintains also the unity of theDaoist world, without having to resort to the language of time andbeing. The idea of a single “root” of existence holdsimportant practical implications.
If Dao is by definition what being is not, how is it related to theworld? The concept of “one” points in the generaldirection, but it requires corroboration. The concept ofli,deep pattern or principle, plays an important role in helping tobridge the conceptual divide between transcendence and immanence inWang Bi’s philosophy.
Dao has its “great constancy,” as Wang observes, whichfinds expression inli (commentary toLaozi 47).What this means is that the Daoist origin and structure of the worldis seen to entail an inherent order. The plenitude of nature and theregularity of the seasons, for example, both attest to the presence ofDao in the world, not as primary substance, and still less a supremedeity, but as pristine order or coherence marked by intelligiblepatterns of change and principles of operation. This is the underlyingassumption for the claim that Dao not only originates things but alsonurtures and completes them, and that Dao is not only the beginningbut also the “mother” of all beings (commentary toLaozi 1, 51 and 52).
The world is characterized by ceaseless change and transformation,which at first glance may appear haphazard; but as theYijinghas shown, change conforms to basic principles—not staticmetaphysical “forms,” but dynamic modes ofoperation—that can be described generally in terms of theinterplay between the yin and yang vital forces. In this sense, theLaozi remarks that human beings are “modeled”after heaven and earth, and ultimately, after Dao (commentary toLaozi 25).
Of course, Dao properly understood aswu is not a somethingthat can be modeled after, but asli, it points to anintrinsic order that constitutes and regulates all beings andfunctions. To Wang Bi, in short, both theYijing and theLaozi realize that things and affairs follow certainli such as the cycle of growth and decay, and moreimportantly that the manifold patterns and principles governing theuniverse, like the branches of a tree, all stem from a single, unified“root.” For this reason, in interpreting theYijing, Wang emphasizes that the meaning of a hexagram is tobe sought in one line, as opposed to all the six lines that make upthe hexagram. The technical detail of Wang Bi’sYijinglearning cannot be pursued here, but we will come back to the metaphorof “root and branches” shortly.
Li-principle, “one,” andwu thus form aconceptual cluster, which from different angles shed light on theseemingly dark or indecipherable truth of Dao. They inform not onlythe conception of the order of nature but also that of the self andsociety.
Human beings are of course formed byqi, which may entaildifferent capacity. Wang Bi, like his contemporaries, recognizes thata person’sqi endowment may be “thick” or“thin” (commentary toLunyu 17.2). However, whatis more important is that beyond the differences in capacity, all areequally endowed with a Dao-centered nature, an internalli oforder and harmony that tends toward stillness at its innermostdepth.
This follows from the analysis of Dao aswu and“one,” which strips away the many disquieting layers ofhuman artificiality and desire to arrive at a tranquil core. This is akey assumption. “One,” as the logical basis of the“many,” according to Wang, signifies also what is of thebarest minimum (commentary toLaozi 22), which in thiscontext translates into a view of human nature that has basic needsbut little desire in its original, pristine condition. The languagehere is novel, though the general idea is already present in theConfucianLiji (Record of Rites): “When human beingsare born, they are tranquil; this is the nature of [human beingsendowed by] heaven.”
From Wang Bi’s perspective, heaven forms a part of the Daoistworld, is itself derivative of the transformation ofqi, andtherefore cannot be identified as the ultimate source of human nature.Further, because Dao has no objective referent, it cannot be said thathuman nature is made in the image of a “creator” orderived from any external source. This necessitates an“inward” turn in fathoming the roots of human nature.Consequently, according to Wang Bi, human nature in its original,pristine form can only be understood to be “so of itself”(ziran).
The concept ofziran is critical to Neo-Daoist philosophy andis usually translated as “naturalness” or“spontaneity.” Commenting on the well-known statement intheLaozi that “Dao models afterziran,”Wang Bi is careful not to reify what is properly conceptual:“Ziran is a term [that we use] to speak of that whichhas no designation; it is an expression that seeks to lay bare [themeaning of] the ultimate” (commentary toLaozi 25).
Human nature so conceived may be described metaphorically as beinglike a plain block of wood (pu) that has not been carved intoa functional or ornamental object, or it may be articulatedself-referentially as what is “genuine” or“authentic” (zhen) of the person (e.g.,commentary toLaozi 16 and 28). However, these remainexpedient markers pointing to the truth ofziran, of what is“self-so,” understood as being rooted in a conceptuallynecessary ontological foundation that the ancient sages aptlydescribed as Dao.
The analysis of human nature bears directly on ethics and politicalphilosophy. At the ethical level, Wang Bi could not but disagree withHe Yan on the issue of the nature of the sage. Rather than seeing thesage as an exceptional individual blessed with an extraordinaryqi endowment that effectively renders him a different kind ofbeing, who by nature is unaffected by any differentiated emotions suchas pleasure and anger that are inherently partial, as He Yan does,Wang Bi argues that the sage is the same as ordinary men and women inexperiencing the full range of emotions.
However, there is one decisive difference between the sage and thecommon person. While the sage responds to phenomena intellectually andemotionally like everyone else, he is not burdened or enslaved by thembecause of his “spirit-like perspicacity”(shenming).
If there is a fundamental unity to all beings, it cannot be maintainedthat a select few are exempted from the rule. Given the premise thatall are endowed with a Dao-centered nature, the difference between thesage and the average person cannot be one of kind but only of degreeand attainment. Moreover, He Yan’s thesis would rule out thepossibility of becoming a sage; indeed, even becoming a “nearsage” like Yan Hui would be beyond the reach of most people. Assuch, how can the sage serve as a source of inspiration andmotivation? This may be the main point of contention that sets He Yanand Wang Bi apart.
The sage is not without sorrow and joy; even Confucius, the highestsage, could not but be pleased when he met Yan Hui or be saddened byhis untimely passing. Yet, the sage realizes that human emotions areultimately driven by self-interest. Precisely because of his affectiveresponsiveness, the sage is able to understand and empathize with theneeds of the people; but because of his “spirit-likeperspicacity”—that is, his heightened spirituality andprofound understanding of the nature of things—his mind remainsperfectly clear like a polished mirror and unburdened by emotionalattachments. It is logically invalid, as Wang astutely observes, toconclude from the absence of attachments to the absence of emotions(Sanguo zhi 28, commentary).
The way to sagehood does not lie in suppressing one’s emotionsor in any artificial means, but in abiding by the order ofziran, in staying true to one’s “root,”one’s Dao-centered nature. The “authenticity” of thesage entails that he is naturally simple like “uncarvedwood,” which is also to say that he is free from the dictates ofdesire. In this sense, Wang Bi speaks of the sage as embracing“emptiness and quiescence” (e.g., commentary toLaozi 16), or as having returned to a state of“emptiness and nothingness” (commentary toLaozi48). In this same sense, Wang asserts in a celebrated dialogue withPei Hui, another senior intellectual figure at that time, thatalthough Confucius did not speak aboutwu explicitly, henonetheless embodied it in his every word and action (Sanguozhi 28, commentary, andShishuo xinyu [New Accounts ofthe Tales of the World] 4.8). The crucial hermeneutical point here isthat “it”—“nothingness”—does notrefer to any object or substance; once the nature of Dao isunderstood, the embodiment ofwu can only mean therealization ofziran.
This is also how Wang Bi understands the concept ofwuwei,often translated as “nonaction,” which figures centrallyin theLaozi and appears also in theLunyu, where itis associated with no less a personage than the sage-king Shun (15.5).Like other central philosophical concepts in the Chinese tradition,the meaning ofwuwei is contested and requires carefulcontextual delineation. In the case of Wang Bi,wuwei servesto bring out the meaning ofziran in practice. Thus,commenting on the claim inLaozi 37 that “Dao isconstantlywuwei,” Wang simply states, “Thismeans followingziran.”
As applied to the sage, who is “one” with Dao in the sensethat he is always true to his calm and tranquil nature,wuweimanifests itself in a life of guileless simplicity and a profoundunderstanding of the principles governing the Daoist universe.Naturally, the sage dwells in quietude and does not engage insuperfluous activity, for which reason the term“wuwei,” which conveys the sense of “nottaking action,” is used. It would be inconceivable, for example,to have a true sage indulging in gossip or slander. Moreover, there isa qualitative dimension towuwei, in that every action of thesage will accord fully with the principles of nature, without anytrace of artificiality or arbitrariness. As applied to the commonpeople,wuwei poses an ethical challenge, which demands doingless of the many needless activities that cloud their hearts andminds, corrupt their nature, and in the end only serve to perpetuatethe tyranny of desire. To those who aspire to walk in the footsteps ofthe sages, then,wuwei should be understood as a process of“returning” to one’s “root,” that is tosay, a spiritual and ethical journey to recovering one’spristine Dao-centered nature.
The order ofziran pervades all spheres of life and activity.Ethics and political philosophy, in other words, proceed from the samelogical ground. At the sociopolitical level, both the family and thestate are seen to have a basis in the natural order of things.Furthermore, just as the mind commands the body, ideally the familyand the state should be led by a single sovereign. Given the analysisof Dao as “one” and principle, Wang Bi is thus committedto defending not only the institution of the family and the state, butalso the hierarchical structure of sociopolitical relations. In thisway, new Daoist insight comes to illuminate concerns typicallyassociated with Confucian philosophy, sweeping aside any partisanobstacles along its path.
In theory,wuwei aims at preserving the order ofziran so that the myriad things and affairs can flourish andattain their proper end. In practice, the politics ofwuweimay be contrasted with Legalist policies that emphasize thoroughpolitical control through reward and especially punishment. The roleof the ruler, like that of the father, entails great responsibility.Whilewuwei naturally has no room for, say, heavy taxation orexcessive conscript labor for war or palace construction, it shouldnot exclude appropriate public works like irrigation or services likecaring for the sick. Such action would be deemed in alignment with theperceived order of nature. Obviously, they are not carried out toenhance the ruler’s reputation or interests. The ruler whogoverns withwuwei may appear to be doing nothing, but inguiding the people to return to their original nature he establishes afirm foundation for great peace. The state would prosper of its ownaccord, as it were, if only the ruler could remain steadfast infollowing the way of “emptiness and quiescence.” The logicof nothingness, perhaps unexpectedly, reaches an idealistic end. Insum, as Wang Bi concludes in his shorter essay on theLaozi,the key to the Daoist vision lies in “honoring the root andcalming the branches,” which ensures that the people are notalienated from their true nature and thus able to find fulfillment(also see commentary toLaozi 38, 57 and 58).
During the second half of the third century, a group of intellectuals,remembered fondly in Chinese sources as the “Seven Worthies ofthe Bamboo Grove” (zhulin qixian), came to representthe voice of the Learning in the Profound. They are: Ji Kang(223–262, or 224–263), Ruan Ji (210–263), Xiang Xiu(ca. 227–280), Shan Tao (205–283), Liu Ling (ca.221–300), Wang Rong (234–305), and Ruan Xian (nephew ofRuan Ji, dates unknown but perhaps slightly older than Wang Rong).Although the term “bamboo grove” has a particular Buddhistreference, it probably refers to bamboo fields in or near JiKang’s estate in Shanyang (modern Henan province), where thegroup and their associates gathered in pleasure and friendship. Of theseven, Ji Kang, Ruan Ji, and Xiang Xiu are of particular interest tostudents of philosophy. The first two will be introduced here.
Ji Kang cuts a striking figure in the history of Chinese philosophy. Abrilliant musician and poet, a master of Pure Conversation, aniconoclast and a model of integrity, Ji Kang was the undisputed leaderof the Seven Worthies and one of the most influential intellectuals ofhis age. He was unfortunately caught in the web of power struggles andwas sentenced to death. Several thousand students of the imperialacademy reportedly petitioned for his release. Before the execution,as traditional sources further relate, Ji remained perfectly composed;as the final hour approached, he asked for aqin (stringinstrument, commonly translated as zither or lute) and gave a finalperformance, lamenting only that the tune he played would now die withhim (e.g., seeJin shu 49). Later scholars throughout Chinesehistory who saw themselves as victims of injustice would often drawinspiration from Ji Kang’s courage and integrity.
Ji Kang’s extant writings include a collection of sixty poems,an influential “Rhapsody on the Zither” (Qin fu),and fourteen other essays. The concept ofziran underpins JiKang’s version of Neo-Daoism. In agreement with He Yan and WangBi, Ji sees an inherent order in the universe. The origin of theDaoist world is to be understood in terms of the transformation ofqi. The “originalqi,” brimming withcreative energy but completely undifferentiated, gave rise to yin andyang, from which heaven and earth, the five dynamic elemental forces(wuxing), and the myriad beings in turn ensued. Boundless butnot reducible to any shape or form, the Dao can be described aswu, but in this interpretation, the nothingness of Dao gainsmeaning from the original oneness ofqi. In this respect, JiKang seems closer to He Yan than Wang Bi in drawing from the yin-yangcosmological theory, though there is perhaps a stronger religioussensibility that distinguishes Ji’s approach to the profoundmystery of Dao.
On the premise that the order of nature issues from the transformationofqi, Ji Kang recognizes that individuals are allotted aqi endowment of varying abundance and purity, which definestheir nature and capacity. This explains why some people are blessedwith long life or exceptional talents, while others must endurecertain natural disadvantages. The fact that one may be gifted in someways but deficient in others testifies to the presence of differentconfigurations of vital powers informing each person. In an essaytitled “Critical Discussion on Intelligence and Courage”(Mingdan lun), Ji Kang thus disputed the assertion that thosewho possess intelligence or brilliant understanding are sure to havecourage. Arising from different determination ofqi, Ji says,the two “cannot produce each other.”
While most people are born with a mix of strengths and weaknesses, thelogic ofziran allows the possibility of perfect endowment.It follows that sages must be regarded as extraordinary beingsanimated by the finestqi essence. For the same reason, JiKang defended the existence of “immortals,” a popularideal in religious Daoism, on the understanding that they aresimilarly informed by the purest form ofqi, which precludesany defilement that causes the body and spirit to decay.
So defined, neither sagehood nor immortality can be attained throughlearning or effort. However, the doctrine ofziran does notnecessarily entail a strong determinism or “fatalism” thatdismisses all human effort. Immortality may be beyond reach, but as JiKang explains in his essay “On Nourishing Life”(Yangsheng lun), self-cultivation can enhance one’sphysical and spiritual well-being substantially. Specifically,breathing exercises, special diets and the use of drugs can helpmaximize the limits of one’s natural endowment, and bring aboutrejuvenation and long life. Drug use, incidentally, was widespreadamong the literati in early medieval China. He Yan, for example, isknown to have championed a certain drug for its ability to “liftone’s spirit,” and Ji Kang is also reputed to have been aconnoisseur in this field. In any case, knowledge of Dao and practicein the art of nourishing life can make a significant difference, eventhough they may fall short in transforming the person into an“immortal.”
It is important to note, however, that effort directed at nourishinglife should always accord withziran and must not be confusedwith action that violates the principles of nature. This brings intoview Ji Kang’s critique of Confucian norms and rituals, which heconsidered artificial and restrictive. Ji devoted an essay to refutingthe widely held view that people “naturally take tolearning.” Learning in the Confucian sense presupposesdiscipline and does not come naturally to people, whose need topreserve energy predisposes them toward repose.
From this essay, it also becomes clear that the concept ofziran is closely tied to a Daoist philosophy of history,which envisions a process of decline from a pristine beginning ofsimplicity and wholesome goodness. Echoing theLaozi (Chapter18), Ji Kang asserts that it is only when the “great Dao”fell into disuse—that is, when selfishness and strife renderednatural, prereflective kindness out of the ordinary—thatbenevolence and righteousness came to be treasured as acquired,remedial virtues. In this sense, Confucian learning reflects but theloss of naturalness in a world dominated by self-interest.
In another essay, “On Dispelling Self-interest” (Shisilun), Ji Kang brings out further the ethical implications ofziran. Without self-interest means, at the very least, thatone is completely open about one’s feelings and intentions. Thisdoes not guarantee moral purity, of course, but it reflects a mind nolonger burdened by praise or blame, approval or censure, and otherself-regarding concerns. Conversely, veiled motives and hiddenfeelings invariably involve calculations of cost and benefit thatcorrupt the mind, even if they are invested in moral ventures.Ideally, in the case of a sage endowed with a perfect nature, completeopenness and purity coincide. For the majority, however, self-interestposes an obstacle to realizingziran. From this perspective,nourishing life thus takes on a deeper ethical meaning. Althoughbreathing exercises and the use ofqi-enhancing drugs may beuseful, ultimately all such effort must be directed at dispellingself-interest. To dispel self-interest and in this sense attain utmost“emptiness,” it is necessary to confront the root problemof desire.
Desires are harmful to both body and mind, as Ji Kang emphasizes in“On Nourishing Life.” Purity of being, in contrast,entails the absence of desire or any form of emotional disturbance.Are all desires, then, unnatural? The essay drew a sharp response fromXiang Xiu, for whom desire arises naturally from the mind. As such, itcannot be eradicated but only regulated by rules of propriety andritual action. In reply, Ji Kang points out that although pleasure andanger, and the desire for fame and beauty may stem from the self, likea tumor they only serve to deplete one’sqi. Basicneeds are of course not to be denied, but desires are shaped byobjects and reflect cognitive distortions that consume the self. Toquench one’s thirst, one does not desire to drink the wholeriver. This is fundamentally different from the desire for power andwealth, which knows no rest. Moreover, the suppression of desire byartificial means may remove certain symptoms, but it does not cure thedisease. It is only by recognizing the harmful influences of desirethat one begins to seek calmness and emptiness of mind. Ultimately,nourishing life is not just about health and longevity but sets itssight on a higher, and to Ji Kang, more authentic, mode of beingcharacterized by dispassion.
In this connection, Ji Kang’s famous thesis that emotions areforeign to music—or literally, that “sounds do not have[in them] sorrow or joy” (sheng wu ai le)—becomesreadily understandable. If desire and the emotions that flow from itare not intrinsic to nature, and since sounds are naturally producedby the vibration ofqi energies, it cannot be the case thatmusic embodies sorrow or joy, as classical Confucian musical theorygenerally assumes. Subjective and cognitive reactions, including thepossibility of emotional contagion, in other words, should bedistinguished from what is natural and objective; otherwise, Jiargues, one can hardly account for the fact that the same piece ofmusic may evoke different responses in different audiences. On theaesthetic front, this has the effect of opening up the field ofaesthetic judgment—for example, music condemned by classicalConfucianism as inherently “licentious” could now bereappraised in terms of their musical quality. At the ethical andspiritual level, music can be a powerful aid to nourishing life. Thisis because music can articulate harmony that would render conditionsmore favorable for dispelling self-interest. Ji Kang’s work onnourishing life and the nature of music wielded considerable influenceamongXuanxue scholars.
Ji Kang is often depicted as a radical iconoclast, who openlychallenged the authority of classical models of moral attainment,including Confucius. Compared with He Yan and Wang Bi, he certainlyseems less inclined to accommodate Confucian learning and ritualpractice in his vision ofziran. It is also true that he waspolitically frustrated and marginalized. Yet, the emphasis onnourishing life need not imply abandoning the sociopolitical world fora life of reclusive exile. Like Wang Bi, Ji recognizes that the orderofziran encompasses basic social institutions such as thefamily and the state. In his “Family Admonitions”(Jiajie), he instructed his children to uphold integrity inboth private and public life. In an essay devoted to the teachings ofgovernment (Taishi zhen), Ji affirmed that rulership has abasis in the principles of nature. Respect for elders and kindness arenot contrary toziran, so long as they do not becomedeliberate acts with a view to self-gain.
In another essay (Guan Cai lun), Ji Kang attempted torehabilitate the two nobles of the Zhou dynasty—Lords Guan andCai—who had been condemned by later historians for theiropposition to the Duke of Zhou. Commentators generally agree that thehistorical discussion serves but as a thin disguise for Ji’scriticism of the regime in power at that time. This is not the work ofa man who rejected politics as a matter of principle, but pointsinstead to an engaged intellectual who would stop at nothing to makeknown the truth as he saw it. In the end, if the order ofziran were allowed to flourish, if desire and self-interestwere pacified, and if careful nourishing were applied to removeinterference especially of the Confucian and Legalist variety, societywould attain peace and harmony of its own accord. Despite the tragiccircumstances of his life, Ji Kang proves rather sanguine in his faithin the power ofziran.
Ruan Ji, like Ji Kang, captured the imagination of later generationsas a model of authenticity, an intellectual who was completely true tohis principles. An outstanding poet and musician, he is alsoremembered for his daring defiance of the Confucian orthodoxy, at atime when deviation from the norms of tradition could easily be deemedseditious. To his admirers, Ruan Ji was a tragic hero. Well versed inboth Confucian and Daoist learning, he was evidently a man ofprinciple who took seriously the calling of an intellectual to bringpeace and harmony to the state. Hailing from a distinguished family,he was in a strong position to make a difference in public affairs.The unforgiving realities of third-century Chinese politics, however,soon took its toll on Ruan, who found himself trapped in a world ofviolence and duplicity. Proud and uncompromising, never a consentingpartner in the intercourse of power, Ruan Ji had to endure repeatedslander and escaped censure only by finding refuge in an almostconstant intoxicated stupor.
Drinking was an important aspect of literati culture. Wine made from avariety of fruits and grains was widely consumed. In Ruan’scase, wine became a means to self-expression as well as a lifeline topreserving his integrity. According to his biography, he avoided amarriage proposal from the de facto ruling house by staying drunk forsixty days (Jin shu 49). Whether this actually happened, orwhether he was an alcoholic is not the issue; what emerges from thisand other reports is a portrait of a frustrated but sensitive andardent thinker, whose outrage at an immoral world finds preciseexpression in “outrageous” opinions and behaviorchallenging the legitimacy of established practice. Even at hismother’s funeral, Ruan did not stop drinking, an act thatpatently disregarded the requirement of ritual and resulted in a callfor his banishment from the realm. The full significance of the storycomes to light when the reader realizes that Ruan was in fact famousfor his filial piety. When his mother died, his grief was so intensethat he “coughed up blood” and “wasted away”for a long time.
Although Ruan Ji was unable to escape from the world of power, he tookevery opportunity to assert his free and indomitable spirit. Ritualsand convention were not meant for him, as he announced boldly, inresponse to a charge that he had contravened the rules of propriety inseeing his sister-in-law off on a journey. So disgusted with anddisdainful of the shallow men of high society, Ruan would literally“eye” his visitors in different ways—gleaming withadoration and pleasure when they were to his taste, or rolling hiseyes superciliously when the company was deemed foul. This did notearn him too many friends at court, but it certainly enhanced hisreputation as a leader of the Seven Worthies of the Bamboo Grove.
Ruan Ji left behind a large number of poems and several essays. Anearly work is entitled “Disquisition on Music” (Yuelun), in which he discusses along Confucian lines the function ofmusic in bringing about harmony. Like most Neo-Daoist intellectuals,Ruan believed that the teaching of Confucius had been distorted bylater scholars who under the banner of Confucianism sought merely tofurther their own gain. Confucius was only concerned with the Dao. Thewritings of Confucius and other sages sought to bring to light but oneDaoist truth. Ruan Ji devoted an essay each to theYijing,theLaozi, and theZhuangzi. While the essay on theYijing dates probably to his youth, and that on theLaozi survives only in fragments, theDa Zhuang lun(Critical Discussion on the Full Meaning of theZhuangzi)reflects Ruan’s mature thinking. Equally important is his famouspoetic essay, the “Biography of Master Great Man”(Daren xiansheng zhuan), in which he takes aim at the corruptways of the world and invokes an image of Daoist transcendence, abiting contrast that is rendered all the more powerful in the light ofhis own predicament.
Like Ji Kang, Ruan Ji focuses on the concept ofziran,naturalness, in his reformulation of Daoist philosophy. Commenting ontheLaozi, Ruan makes clear that the concept of Dao should beunderstood as the “self-so” source of the processes ofchange and transformation. Whereas theLaozi calls it Dao,theYijing describes it as the “Great Ultimate”(taiji), and theSpring and Autumn Annals, the“Origin” (yuan). Or, as Ruan writes in his essayon theZhuangzi, “heaven and earth are born ofziran, and the myriad beings are born of heaven andearth.” There is “nothing outside” (wuwai)the world ofziran, Ruan adds, which is to say that the Daoshould not be mistaken for any metaphysical agent or entity. Rather,the theory of naturalness suggests that heaven and earth andeverything within it originate from oneqi. All phenomena areconstituted byqi; as such, according to Ruan, Zhuangzi issurely right in maintaining that “the myriad beings are but onebody” (Zhuangzi, Chapter 5).
The plenitude of nature reflects the inexhaustible resourcefulness ofthe Dao. Moreover, phenomena conform to constant principles andfunction in harmony. In hisZhuangzi essay, Ruan details intraditional cosmological terms how the originalqidifferentiates into yin and yang, the two basic forms of vital forcesor energies that not only shape but continue to govern the phenomenalworld. Male and female, the hot and the cold, light and darkness, andother yin-yang correlates underpin the structural order of the Daoistuniverse. The movement of the sun and the moon, the regularity of theseasons, the operation of wind and rain, and other natural processesdisclose further a dynamic regime of self-regulating change andrenewal. In this way, an inherent order is shown to lie at the heartofziran. As in Ji Kang’s analysis, this forms thebasis of an ethics of naturalness.
The ideal sage, of course, embodies naturalness in his entire being.This presupposes a profound understanding of what theZhuangzi calls the “equality of things,” nowexplained by Ruan Ji in terms of the oneness ofqi. Life anddeath, fortune and misfortune, and other seemingly unbridgeabledivides form but moments in the same continuum of naturaltransformation. The sage, accordingly, regards them as one.Distinctions, in the sense of value discrimination, can thus no longerbe maintained. Whether this entails a mystical union with natureremains a question. Ruan’s poetic eloquence, especially in the“Biography of Master Great Man,” often appears to rise tomystical heights. Nevertheless, the more important point seems to bethat the sage recognizes the centrality of emptiness and quiescence ina life ofziran.
Devoid of self-interest, unmoved by riches and power, completely atease with his own nature and the natural order of things at large, thesage attains freedom and in this sense, “transcendence.”In contrast, as “Master Great Man” denounces, the learned“gentlemen” of polite society are no better than the licethat dwell in one’s pants. Hiding deep in the recesses oftradition, they dare not move against ritual and dread any threat tothe status quo. When hungry, they feast parasitically on the people.There is ample evidence that Ruan Ji regarded the teachings of theConfucian tradition at that time to be deficient and detrimental tothe project of naturalness.
More precisely, Ruan’s theory ofziran envisages aninner spirituality that must be protected from the corruptinginfluence of power and desire. There is a wholesome sincerity andinnocence to natural affective expressions. When desire for gain isallowed to dominate, however, what is spontaneous mutates into hiddendesigns and false appearances. For this reason, complete opennessranks high on Ruan’s ethical agenda. In a world dominated bysmall-minded “gentlemen,” where sincerity of feeling isjudged a threat to the establishment, an ethics of naturalnessinevitably finds itself engaged in a struggle for freedom.
LaterXuanxue scholars took great pleasure in recounting howdespite venomous opposition, Ruan Ji had persisted in his unorthodoxways. For example, we are told that he frequented a neighbor’splace for wine and the company of the latter’s wife. When he gotdrunk, he would fall asleep next to her. Understandably suspicious atfirst, the husband nonetheless found Ruan completely innocent,honorable and above reproach in both intention and act. In this, wesee how moral character is traced to naturalness. Another neighbor hada talented and beautiful daughter who unfortunately died young.Although Ruan did not know the family, he went all the same to herfuneral and cried with total abandon. Whether in these or otheraccounts, the point is always that whereas rituals and taboos stifleand corrupt the self, naturalness promises liberation and a return toauthenticity.
Does not the open display of emotions contradict the emphasis on“emptiness”? He Yan, for example, had argued that sages donot experience pleasure and anger, or sorrow and joy. However, as thisview entails that sages must be regarded as ontologically distinctfrom ordinary human beings and that sagehood is beyond the reach ofself-cultivation, not allXuanxue scholars would be amenableto it. As we have seen, Wang Bi had countered that“emptiness” need not suggest the absence of emotion, butrather an enlightened mode of being not bound by emotional or otherattachments. These arguments would have been known to Ruan Ji. GivenRuan’s emphasis on authenticity, he would be concerned to showthat genuine affective responses flowing from a pure heart empty ofselfish desire belong integrally to the ideal ethical life.
In theDa Zhuang lun, Ruan Ji describes the sage as a“person of ultimate attainment” (zhiren), whoseprofound understanding of the “equality” of things in theorder ofziran naturally expresses itself in a simple yetfulfilled life. On a larger scale, this should translate into apeaceful and harmonious society. If nature had yielded an originallypristine order, how did it come to be infested with an army of“lice”? Ruan Ji provides a startling response in his“Biography of Master Great Man.”
At the “beginning,” when yin and yang naturally took theircourse, when domination and deceit were yet unknown, all under heavenindeed lived in perfect harmony. There were neither rulers norministers, and yet order prevailed of its own accord. When rulershipwas established, Ruan goes on to say, domination arose; when ministerswere appointed, conflict and deceit also came into the world. It isnot entirely clear why or how kingship came to be established, butjudging from Ruan’s essay on theZhuangzi, much of theblame lies with subjective discrimination. When natural distinctions(e.g., differences in size) became value markers (e.g., that big is“better” than small), desire and domination already beganto cloud the true picture.
In elevating naturalness above all manmade institutions, Ruan Ji thusfound a place for anarchism, which is rarely entertained in the wholeof Chinese philosophy. During the fourth century, perhaps reflectingthe political turbulence of the period, another thinker by the name ofBao Jingyan did take up the same theme in an essay entitled“Disquisition on Not Having Rulers” (Wu jun lun).Although the work has not survived, it was criticized by Ge Hong (ca.283–363) in hisBaopuzi (The Master Who EmbracesSimplicity). According to Ge Hong, Bao was an avid reader of theLaozi and theZhuangzi and was adept in the art ofdisputation. The main thesis of his work is that rulership is but aform of domination that violates naturalness. Nevertheless, anarchismdid not find strong support in Neo-Daoism. In fact, the majority ofXuanxue scholars may be said to have espoused fairly“conservative” political ideals. He Yan and Wang Bi, forexample, had little difficulty justifying absolute monarchical rule,provided that it coincides withziran and“nonaction.”
While the critique of government is clear, Ruan Ji was certainly notplotting to overthrow it. Such scheming would be inimical to the goalof naturalness. Does it entail renunciation, a complete severing fromthe political world? Ruan Ji is commonly depicted as a frustratedintellectual yearning for a life free of deception and untainted bypower relations. Indeed, one suggestion is that whereas Ruan in hisearly writings had accorded a positive place to ritual and music asthe work of the ancient sages to maintain harmony in the world, in hislater years he became totally disillusioned and turned toescapism.
This view is unhelpful, because it undermines the possibility ofrenewal in the philosophy ofziran. The ethics of naturalnessis not about renunciation. The sages of old were all concerned withdiminishing the power of desire, so as to enable the people to livewell and prosper. From this perspective, the Daoist recluse furnishesa powerful symbol because he abides byziran and not becausehe refuses to have anything to do with the world. Similarly, the“Great Man” does not aspire to a life of freedom torealize his own ambition, but rather to initiate a process of healingthat would revitalize the rule of the Dao, envisioned as a kind ofwholesome cooperative community. If naturalness has any restorativepower at all, disengagement should have little role to play inNeo-Daoist ethics.
A generation or so after He Yan, Wang Bi and the Seven Worthies of theBamboo Grove, Guo Xiang (d. 312) arrived on theXuanxuescene. Accomplished in philosophical debate and other forms ofcultured discourse, he was highly regarded by his contemporaries as anewXuanxue champion “second only to Wang Bi,”whose philosophical prowess had by then acquired legendaryproportions. Guo Xiang is by far the most important interpreter of theZhuangzi in Chinese history. Through his effort, indeed, theZhuangzi has come down to us in its present form, dividedinto thirty-three chapters. Yet, Guo Xiang has also been accused of noless an intellectual offense than plagiarism.
As early as the fifth century, the charge was made that Guo hadplagiarized the work of Xiang Xiu, a close friend of Ji Kang andfellow member of the Seven Worthies of the Bamboo Grove. Xiang Xiu isprimarily noted for his work on theZhuangzi, though he isalso known to have written a commentary to theYijing.According to theShishuo xinyu (4.17), “Initially,there were scores ofZhuangzi commentators, but none couldgrasp its meaning and essential teachings. Xiang Xiu then went beyondthe old commentaries to interpret theZhuangzi [afresh]. Hisexplanation was subtle and penetrating, which greatly advanced thecause of the [Learning in the] Profound.” Xiang Xiu’scommentary was incomplete, as the text goes on to relate, and GuoXiang later “stole” it as his own.
This is a harsh judgment on Guo Xiang. The biography of Xiang Xiu intheJin shu (Chapter 49) recounts only that Guo Xiang had“extended” the former’s work. Although Guo wasundoubtedly influenced by Xiang Xiu, whose work survives only in theform of quotations preserved in later sources, recent scholarshipgenerally agrees that Guo had drawn his own conclusions. Seeking toreconcile the yearning for freedom and transcendence withsociopolitical engagement, Guo Xiang fuses together in hisZhuangzi commentary ontological and ethical insights. It isworth noting that despite the extremely unstable political conditionsthat plagued the early Jin dynasty, and the fact that Guo had comefrom a relatively humble background, he enjoyed a long anddistinguished public career. Besides theZhuangzi, Guo alsowrote on theLaozi and theLunyu, although these areno longer extant except for a few fragments cited in othersources.
Like Wang Bi, Guo Xiang recognizes the ontological import of Daoistphilosophy. There is no disagreement that all beings originate fromDao. However, Guo takes issue with the view that the key to unlockingthe mystery of Dao lies in the concept ofwu, nothingness.This is because nothingness remains an abstraction, a negationsignifying what being is not in Wang Bi’s interpretation, and assuch cannot bring about creation. So defined,wu and thecategory of beings (you) are mutually exclusive; as Guoplainly states, “It is not only thatwu cannot changeinto being but also that being cannot change intowu”[in the abstract sense of nonbeing] (commentary toZhuangzi22).
The appeal to a divine creator should indeed be rejected, but thisdoes not entail a nihilistic absence. Having disposed of theseoptions, what does Guo Xiang have to offer in their place? He writes,“Becausewu [by definition] is not being, it cannotproduce being. Prior to the coming to be of being, it cannot produceother beings. In that case, then, who or what brought about the birthof being? [The answer can only be that] beings are spontaneouslyself-generated” (commentary toZhuangzi 2).
Xuanxue studies are fond of contrasting Wang Bi’semphasis onwu with Guo Xiang’s focus on being.However, what is more critical is how Guo Xiang arrives at hisconclusion. Certainly, the mystery of creation cannot be resolved bypositing an objectified, transcendent Dao. But, this does not warranta flight to nothingness, which as a conceptual device cannot be anagent of real production and change. To Guo Xiang, then, the onlylogical alternative would be to recognize the reality of spontaneous“self-production” (zi sheng) and“self-transformation” (zi hua orduhua). These ideas are already present in Xiang Xiu’scommentary to theZhuangzi, but in the hands of Guo Xiang,there is now fuller disclosure of the perceived deeper philosophicalmeaning ofziran.
At the most basic ontological level, prior to the birth of the myriadbeings, being is “so of itself,” which implies that beingexists eternally. In Guo’s own words, “Generally, we mayknow the causes of certain things and affairs near to us. But tracingtheir origin to the ultimate end, we find that without any cause, theyof themselves come to be what they are. Being so of themselves, we canno longer question the reason or cause of their being, but shouldaccept them as they are” (commentary toZhuangzi 14).In this sense, “self-production” or“self-transformation” does not quite explain“how” being came into existence; instead, it offers alogical alternative, which bypasses the philosophical problemsassociated with both a pure negation and the positing of a particularcausal agent. At the epistemological level, the further implication isthat self-transformation remains a mystery. Far from being a source ofperplexities, to Guo Xiang, this frees and reorients the mind torealize the nature of Dao and a life ofziran.
The doctrine of self-transformation, for which Guo is particularlyremembered, affirms that the Dao is everywhere and in all things. Thelogic of immanence takes full effect, once nothingness is removed fromview. Even in the most base and lowly, as theZhuangziemphasizes, the presence of Dao can be detected (Chapter 22). To GuoXiang, theZhuangzi can only be alluding to the pervasivenessofqi.
All beings are endowed with a “share” or allotment(fen) ofqi, the inexhaustible power of the Dao,which gives them life and determines their nature and capacity.Moreover, the order of nature depicts not a state of random disorder,but an organized regime in which all parts have a role to play. Withrespect to human beings, for example, the body functions harmoniouslyas a unified whole in accordance with specific principles(li). Without undermining the interdependence of themultitude of organs, there is a hierarchical structure to the workingsof the body, where the mind assumes sovereign control. In theserespects, guided by the concepts ofqi and principle, GuoXiang follows the mainstream Neo-Daoist analysis ofziran.
Given that individuals enjoy a particular “share” of theDao, differences in natural endowment should be recognized. Forexample, due to the different allotment ofqi, some peopleare born with a high degree of intelligence or gifted in other ways.Because everything is what it is “so of itself,” Guo Xiangmust admit that “what one is born with is not something that isundue or inappropriate” (commentary toZhuangzi 5).Because one’s nature is determined by exact principles, one mayalso speak of destiny in this connection. Is Guo, then, committed to akind of thoroughgoing fatalism? Does this entail a rigid system inwhich individuals merely conform to prescribed roles?
It is a matter of destiny or “fate” that one is born ofsage character, average capacity, or disadvantaged. In all cases, Guomaintains that one ought to accept one’s natural endowment.Extending a naturalistic reading to an old religious concept, this isin Guo’s estimation what is meant by the “mandate ofheaven” (tianming). As it cannot be disputed that thereare individuals who are blessed with an exceptionally richqiendowment, there is thus some truth to the view held by He Yan andothers that sageness is defined by an inborn sage nature. Yet, is itthe case that sagehood is restricted to a select few? Guo is alsoconcerned to distinguish destiny as fact from value, and to make roomfor change and development in human flourishing.
Differences based on endowment do not constitute any basis for valuejudgment. This is central to Guo’s overall argument and isreminiscent of Ruan Ji’s view of naturalness in some respects.As theZhuangzi repeatedly argues, what needs to berecognized is the “equality of things.” Equality is not tobe confused with sameness. In this context, equality suggests that allbeings are partners in the larger architecture of Dao. Being gifteddoes not necessarily make one “better”; even a physicallyor mentally handicapped person is “complete” in his or herown way. Differences among individuals are undeniable, but they do notlegitimize prejudice or discrimination.
At the sociopolitical level, human relationships are also governed byconstant principles; like different parts of the body, individualshave their proper place in the social and political assembly. Fromthis perspective, as opposed to conventional arrangements that can bechanged or discarded at will, both the family and the state should beunderstood as expressions ofziran.
Furthermore, in view of the hierarchical order of nature, Guo does nothesitate to say that the father should be the head of the family, andthat the state should be ruled by the king. This would rule outanarchism. In this regard, while Guo Xiang and Ruan Ji agree on thecentrality of naturalness, they come to very different conclusions onthe ideal structure of the state. What needs to be made clear is thatthe necessary gradation of authority for different roles andresponsibilities that comes with a hierarchical system does notwarrant any form of authoritarian government that oppresses thepeople. The father may be the authoritative figure in the family, buthe would not be in that position if not for his children. As“children” of the Dao, all beings are indispensable andoccupy an equally important station in the order ofziran.
Whereas scholars such as Wang Bi emphasize unity over multiplicity,Guo Xiang underscores the richness and diversity of the Daoist world.Individuality is not sacrificed for political interests, or dissolvedinto a sea of metaphysical oneness. On the contrary, as Guo forcefullyargues, there is no greater calamity than the loss of individualityand authenticity, of one’s identity as endowed by nature(commentary toZhuangzi 10). Conversely, the Daoist goal canbe defined as the realization of one’s nature, and particularlythe optimization of one’s inborn capacity. As nature blossoms,destiny is fulfilled.
While this may not be able to detract entirely from the charge offatalism, Guo Xiang does aim to introduce a dynamic view of nature anddestiny. It also opens up a deeper dimension to the notion ofsagehood. The Daoist world is never static; it changes and renewsitself constantly. The mountain or ocean may appear unchanging, but itis perpetually in flux. This is mirrored in human existence, whereindividuals grow with the passage of time (commentary toZhuangzi 6). Although constituted byqi andregulated by principles, individuals and societies need not be viewedas fixed assets without possibility of change and development. Indeed,while the order of nature must be respected, the person of Daorecognizes the inevitability of change. The sage nourishes his natureand adapts constantly to changes in the social and naturalenvironment. This, as Guo Xiang sees it, brings out the real meaningof Daoist nonaction (wuwei).
Nonaction “does not mean folding one’s arms and keepingquiet,” as Guo makes explicit what mostXuanxuescholars implicitly acknowledge (commentary toZhuangzi 11).It is also not a technical skill, requiring special training ordiscipline. In Guo Xiang’s interpretation, nonaction stems froma profound discernment of the way of naturalness, which entails not somuch doing less of certain things, as a mode of being and spirit ofaction guided by the principles of nature, according to which oneperforms all functions.
There are two aspects to Guo’s understanding ofwuwei.First, as things and affairs are informed by principles, there is anatural way of action and interaction. Like the fabulous Cook Ding(Zhuangzi 3) who could cut up an ox without having to rely onsensory perception or mental calculation, and just as spontaneousaffection characterizes the parent-child relation, the sageaccomplishes all tasks by simply following the “grain” ornature of phenomena.
Second, in the light of the equality of things, nonaction ideallyleads to a sense of freedom and equanimity. Instead of chasing afterfalse ideals, trying to be like someone else, and ending up a prisonerof restless striving and deceit, one should stay true to oneself anddevelop one’s nature. If self-sufficiency is assumed, there isno point in imitating others, including those blessed with a specialqi endowment; to do so, indeed, as Guo Xiang puts it, wouldbe like a fish’s aspiring to become a bird (commentary toZhuangzi 2).
This is important and marks Guo’s originality. Nonaction cannotbe divorced from naturalness or reserved for those with an inborn sagenature alone. What is required of self-fulfillment has already beengiven; to clamor after what is foreign to one’s genuine“share” of the Dao is not only futile but alsoself-negating. If this is true, the very idea of sageness needs to bereconsidered.
Again, it should be recognized that there are those who embody aspecial sage nature—they are like “pines andcypresses,” which are the finest of trees (commentary toZhuangzi 5)—but more fundamentally, as Guo Xiangexplains, the term “sage” designates those who haverealized their nature (commentary toZhuangzi 1). Thiseffectively removes any barrier to attaining sagehood. Thus, while Guoagrees with He Yan in recognizing the decisive difference ofqi endowment, he is also able to address Wang Bi’sobjection, discussed earlier, and offer an alternative avenue torealizing great peace.
Against helplessness and passive resignation, Guo Xiang calls for aconstructive celebration of individuality and the plenitude of theDaoist world. Free from the hold of desire and the ceaselessundulation of discontent, one reaps an inner calm and grows at easewith the external world. Even death loses its fearsome grip, for onerealizes that life and death are equally a part of the transformationof nature. The person of Dao does not need to live in reclusion orshun politics. In fact, any deliberate disavowal of communal lifewould violate the spirit of naturalness. The important point is that“although the sage [in the broad sense of someone who hasrealized his true nature] finds himself in the halls of ritual andgovernment, his mind is not different from when he is surrounded bymountains and trees” (commentary toZhuangzi 1). Beyondthe sway of the emotions, the sage roams the world without being movedor enslaved by it. This, to Guo Xiang, truly captures the essence of“carefree wandering,” which is now shown to have a placein mundane activities.
Politically, the ruler should also abide by naturalness and nonaction.This means, besides self-cultivation, allowing and encouraging thepeople to develop their nature and capacity to the fullest. Thus,artificial restrictions and interference should be minimized. Officialappointments, moreover, must be made on the basis of capacity and notby family background, as was commonly the case in Guo’s China.In return, as Guo confidently predicts, ministers and subjects wouldnaturally fulfill their duties, and all under heaven would live inpeace and contentment. As needs and circumstances change, social andpolitical practice should not be fossilized. Timely adjustments wouldhelp ensure renewal and harmony in a dynamic realm.
From He Yan and Wang Bi to the Seven Worthies of the Bamboo Grove andGuo Xiang, the main contours of Neo-Daoism can be discerned. Sharingthe same philosophical vocabulary and reacting to a common heritage,the proponents of the new Learning in the Profound may appear to bespeaking with a single voice. On closer examination, it becomesapparent that they seek in their own way to make sense of the mysteryof Dao. Friendship and patronage do play an important role in earlymedieval Chinese literati culture, but they do not diminish thepremium placed on intellectual independence, rigor, and originality.This is best reflected in the many debates that populate the world ofNeo-Daoist learning.
The view of He Yan that the sage is by nature absolutely impartial,above the fray of the emotions, attracted a great deal of attention atthat time. TheSanguo zhi (Chapter 28, commentary), forexample, reports that Zhong Hui (225–264), who rivaled Wang Bias one of the brightest intellectual stars of the age, and others allelaborated on it. Wang Bi, as we have seen, put forward a dissentingview, which on the basis of a particular logic of nothingness groundsthe possibility of sagehood in an original nature untainted bycognitive distortions and affective disturbances. Later, Guo Xiangsought a new resolution by aligning sagehood with self-realization.The role of the emotions and the natural differences based onqi endowment may be admitted, but in the being of the sagethe burden of value attachment that they bring has been totally“forgotten” or lifted in the light of the equality ofthings (e.g., see Guo Xiang, commentary toZhuangzi 2).Bearing directly on the question of sagehood is the larger debate onthe relationship between a person’s capacity and nature.
Although it is generally agreed that nature is inborn and formed byqi energies, whether it is solely responsible for aperson’s capacity, be it intellectual, physical, psychologicalor moral, remains an issue. This is important not only because itconcerns the nature of sagehood, whether it is an attainable goal ordetermined by an essential sage nature, but also because the righttalent must be identified for public office. A late second-century orearly third-century work by Liu Shao, theRenwu zhi(translated into English asThe Study of Human Abilities) hasalready broached the question and attempted to map out the varioustypes of talent and the signs by which they might be identified. Thisdeveloped into a major debate, on which Zhong Hui composed a treatisecalled “On the Four Roots of Capacity and Nature”(Caixing siben lun).
Zhong’s work has not survived, but it is widely reported thatthe debate involved four distinct positions—namely, thatcapacity and nature are “identical” (tong); thatthey are “different” (yi); that they“coincide” (he); and that they“diverge” (li) from each other.
The first view is represented by Fu Jia (also pronounced Fu Gu,209–255), who emerged as a major policy maker during the Wei-Jintransition. On this account, both nature and capacity are determinedby one’sqi endowment. Whereas nature is the innersubstance, capacity reaches outward in functional ability and conduct.This view finds eloquent support in another third-century work, the“Disquisition on Capacity and Nature” (Caixinglun) by Yuan Zhun, who was on good terms with Ruan Ji. Accordingto Yuan, beings can be either excellent or of a poor quality. Whereasthe former are endowed with “pureqi,” the latterare constituted by energies of a more “turbid”composition. It is like a piece of wood, Yuan adds; whether it iscrooked or straight is a matter of nature, on the basis of which ithas a certain capacity that can be made to serve particular ends.
The second is represented by Li Feng (d. 254), according to whom FuJia had misconstrued the relationship between capacity and nature.This is because whereas nature is inborn, capacity is shaped bylearning. What nature provides is simply the biological apparatus orfaculties that enable a person to grow and to learn; the person onebecomes, in contrast, is the result of learning and putting intopractice the teaching of the sages. Any accomplishment, including theattainment of sagehood, ultimately depends on effort. Yu Huan, a notedthird-century historian, provides a helpful analogy to explain thepoint—the effect of learning on a person, he says, is likeadding color to a piece of plain silk (Sanguo zhi 13,commentary).
Zhong Hui himself held the third view, which attempts to mediatebetween the first two positions. Although native endowment isnecessary for realized capacity, it is not sufficient. What isendowed, in other words, marks a person’s potential, which mustbe carefully nurtured and brought to fruition. For sages andimmortals, who are different in kind because of their exceptionalqi constitution, innate capacity naturally manifests itselfcompletely in extraordinary achievements. For ordinary human beings,however, nature does not amount to actual ability but only furnishescertain aptitude, dispositions or directions of development. Ofcourse, if the native endowment is extremely poor, there is not muchthat can be done. Nevertheless, the real challenge to Fu Jia’sidentity thesis is that an excellent endowment may go to waste becausethe person succumbs to desire and would not learn.
Finally, Wang Guang (d. 251) argued for the last position, which isstronger than Li Feng’s and appears to be directed especiallyagainst Zhong Hui’s modified identity thesis. Inborn nature doesnot provide the necessary fertile ground for cultivation; rather, itneeds to be rectified by learning. Human beings are inherently drivenby desire and therefore must rely on rituals and instruction to becomeresponsible individuals. In this sense, capacity and nature do notcoincide but diverge from each other.
It has been suggested that the debate should be understood in thecontext of the power struggle between the main rival factions in Weipolitics. Specifically, Fu Jia and Zhong Hui both sided with thefaction that was to emerge victorious and strike down Li Feng and WangGuang. Political affiliation, like patronage, is certainly important,but it does not dictate philosophical opinion in Neo-Daoism. He Yan,for example, would favor Fu Jia’s identity thesis, given hisunderstanding of human nature, despite the fact that the latter hadcriticized him openly. Similarly, Ji Kang would find Zhong Hui’sattempt to accommodate learning and effort agreeable, even though hehad rejected Zhong’s overtures to befriend him and in the endwas put to death at Zhong’s instigation.
Another key debate in Neo-Daoist philosophy concerns the relationshipbetween “words” (yan) and “meaning”(yi). The debate has its roots in theYijing, whereConfucius is made to ask whether words can fully disclose meaning.This goes beyond the interpretation of any one work, but probes thenature of understanding itself. As common experience seems to suggest,words often fail to express intense emotions or complex ideas. Aminority view, represented by the late third-century thinker OuyangJian, defended the thesis that meaning is completely“exhausted” or expressed by words (yan jin yi).The majority ofXuanxue scholars, however, regarded words asnecessary but insufficient to understanding.
A spokesman for the position that “words cannot fully expressmeaning” (yan bu jin yi) was Xun Can (ca.212–240), who gained considerable notoriety for his claim thatthe classics were but the “chaff” of the sages’profound learning. The conclusion is inescapable, according to Xun,for meaning transcends the limiting confines of language. Wang Bisupplies a fuller and more nuanced argument. Although meaning ismediated by words and images, the means of interpretation must not beconfused with the end itself. Words can in fact become an obstacle tounderstanding if they are made the focus of interpretation. Citing theZhuangzi, Wang maintains that the words and images that makeup a text must be “forgotten” before its meaning can becomprehended. To understand a poem, for example, it is not enough toassemble an exhaustive list of definitions. The words are“forgotten” or left behind in the sense that understandingreaches into the underlying world of ideas where a deeper meaningresides. Guo Xiang also makes clear that although ideas issue fromwords, they cannot be reduced to their literal, surface meaning. Thisis especially important to understanding theZhuangzi, whichemploys a large number of parables and metaphors, often involvingspiritual figures or supernatural exploits. Taken literally, theyverge on the fantastic; understood properly, they intimate the wonderof the Dao and the order ofziran.
This diverges sharply from the Han hermeneutical model, whichtypically on the basis of a kind of correspondence theory assumes thatwords have fixed meanings located in external referents. Specifically,under the dominance of yin-yang theories, the classics were seen torefer to particular cosmological phenomena. For example, Hancommentators commonly took the word “one” to mean the polestar. In contrast, Neo-Daoist writings show little interest incosmological speculation. This does not mean that the authors hadabandoned the yin-yang cosmology; rather, they took the classics to beconcerned with issues more profound than naming the various componentsof the cosmos. A poem may depict actual objects or events; but senseis not limited to reference, and the meaning of the whole transcendsthe identity of its parts. From a new hermeneutical perspective,proponents ofXuanxue thus endeavor to reverse an“outward” interpretive course to return to the“roots”; that is to say, to recapture the perceived coreteachings of the sages. This may suggest direct illumination orintuition, a sudden apprehension of meaning. However, it should beremembered that all the major Neo-Daoists discussed here excelled inthe art of argumentation, which is to say that there is no substitutefor careful philosophical analysis. Once the chain of references isbroken, once the hermeneutical perspective is altered, interpretationis free to pursue the deeper meaning of the “dark” andprofound, which in the final analysis is whatXuanxue is allabout.
From a broader perspective, given the dissatisfaction with HanConfucianism, many of the debates inXuanxue revolve aroundthe relationship between “orthodox teachings”(mingjiao)—the normative “naming”(ming) that determines standards and values—andziran. Both offer an idealized picture of the world, animagined state in which order and harmony prevailed and to which thetroubled world of the present must seek to return. Does the former,bound by doctrines of propriety, rituals, and government, opposenaturalness and thwart all aspiration toward a life of “carefreewandering”? The debate on “nourishing life,” forexample, reflects this concern. Two main approaches may bedistinguished, whose impact far exceeds the quiet preserves of thephilosophers’ “bamboo grove,” to spark new trends inboth politics and culture.
For Wang Bi, it is clear that government and society should ideallyconform to the principles ofziran, as they stem from thesame “root.” Guo Xiang is even more specific in arguingthat the norms and rites that define civilization are not alien toziran but in principle flow spontaneously from it. Thenatural bond between mother and child, for example, attests to theinherent harmony between idealmingjiao andziran.Although decay and corruption may have set in, the ethics ofnaturalness does not seek to escape from the roles andresponsibilities of sociopolitical life.
To Wang Bi, it is imperative that the ruler and those in power“return” to “emptiness and quiescence,” inwhich state the right policies would naturally prevail, resulting inpeace and abundance, and more importantly, simplicity, genuineness andcontentment. To Guo Xiang, the hierarchical structure of society neednot be oppressive, for each and every person is “equal”and self-sufficient, which enables an inner transcendence that is themark of authenticity and the full realization of one’s natureand capacity.
Differences in interpretation notwithstanding, Wang Bi and Guo Xiangconverge in recognizing the place of certain basic normative patternsand principles in the order of nature, and the need to ensure thatthey do not deviate from it. This is the first main approach to thedebate betweenmingjiao andziran. It is perhaps notincorrect to speak of their having brought together Confucian andDaoist concerns, inasmuch as Confucianism pays special attention topropriety and government, whereas Daoism focuses on naturalness. Thesame may be said for Xiang Xiu, who wrote an essay entitled “OnConfucianism and Daoism” (Ru Dao lun) in his youth.Although he apparently discarded it and we have no knowledge of itscontent, the famous poet Xie Lingyun (385–433) later spoke ofXiang Xiu as having treated “Confucianism and Daoism asone.” Nevertheless,Xuanxue is not a kind ofscholasticism that pitches one school against another. Instead ofseeing them as attempting to reconcile Confucianism with Daoism, itmay be suggested that they were primarily concerned with thesubstantive issue of the relationship betweenmingjiao andziran.
Ji Kang and Ruan Ji took the stronger view that the then prevalentorthodox teachings impinged on naturalness. The burden of worldlystriving, ultimately driven by desire, has become so great that itwould not be possible to maintain an inner purity and transcendencewhile following the norms and rites of society and tradition. Genuinefreedom is possible only if one goes beyond the strictures ofnormative orthodox teachings and aligns oneself completely withziran, as Ji Kang boldly asserts in “On DispellingSelf-interest.” Going beyondmingjiao does not meanleaving the world behind in this context; again, the point is notrenunciation, but radical change, by reorienting one’s sense ofpropriety and value. This not only invites philosophical debate butalso gives impetus to an avant-garde counter-culture development,which adds a tinge of romanticism to theXuanxuemovement.
As the idea of naturalness gained currency, many prominent men ofletters came to appreciate strong emotions as a sign of authenticity.Thus, Wang Rong, the youngest member of the Seven Worthies of theBamboo Grove, did not try to contain his grief in accordance with therequirement of ritual when his son died. The sage may be oblivious tothe call of the emotions, he explains, and men of inferior nature areincapable of experiencing true affection; “it is precisely inpeople like us that the deepest and most intense emotions find theirplace” (Shishuo xinyu 17.4). Although there is somedispute whether these words should be attributed to Wang Rong or hiscousin, Wang Yan, the point remains that naked emotions had come to becherished as a Neo-Daoist ideal. In the same spirit, Xun Can wasdevastated by the death of his wife. In response to Fu Jia’scriticism that he was overreacting, Xun simply lamented that it wouldbe difficult to find again a woman of true beauty. His grief was sointense, we are told, that he died shortly after at the age oftwenty-eight (Sanguo zhi 10, commentary; cf.Shishuoxinyu 35.2).
The unaffected display of emotion often came into conflict with thecode of conduct sanctioned by orthodox teachings. Ruan Ji wascriticized on several occasions for his unorthodox behavior. Theseaccounts, more than a record of events, serve to underscore the vastdivide that separates an idealized naturalness from the artificial andoften hypocritical observance of orthodox customs in early medievalChina. Once unconventional behavior is seen to express naturalness andauthenticity, it is perhaps inevitable that more radical gestureswould come to create a colorful but nonetheless extremely slipperyslope. For example, Liu Ling, another member of the Seven Worthies, iswell known for his fondness for wine. Never without a bottle in hand,when travelling he would ask an attendant to carry a shovel, so thathe could be buried on the spot should he die from a bout ofdrunkenness (Jin shu 49). Answering his critics, who foundhim naked, drinking with abandon in his house, Liu said, “I takeheaven and earth to be my dwelling, and my rooms are my coat andpants; so what are you gentlemen doing in my pants?”(Shishuo xinyu 23.6)
As Pure Conversation andXuanxue culture captivated highsociety, many literati were quick to imitate such behavior. It becamefashionable to give free rein to one’s impulses, and many hadhoped to acquire a reputation as a high-minded intellectual of purecharacter and lofty ideals by opposing established norms and rituals.Whether this represents a deterioration of Neo-Daoism need not concernus. The point to note is that serious implications follow from aphilosophy ofziran. Of course, there were Neo-Daoists whoobjected to this trend. For example, Yue Guang(252–304)—whom Wang Rong, Wang Yan, and other leadingscholars praised as a rare talent capable of takingXuanxueto new heights—was obviously unimpressed by the extent to whichmany of his contemporaries had gone in search of a“carefree” life. “Inmingjiao itself thereis a blissful abode,” he asks, “so why go to suchextremes?” (Jin shu 43)
In the early fourth century, the Jin dynasty was forced to flee itscapital and to rebuild in south China. As the literati settled in anew land, they looked back to the time of He Yan and Wang Bi as thegolden age ofXuanxue. Although Pure Conversation continuedwith undiminished rigor, it did not introduce many new ideas. In thesouthern court, the senior statesman Wang Dao (276–339) isreported to have said that he would only talk about “nourishinglife,” “words and meaning,” and Ji Kang’stheory of music (Shishuo xinyu 4.21). Throughout the Jinperiod and beyond, as another early source relates, whether“sounds do not have sorrow or joy” and the “fourroots of capacity and nature” remained the stuff ofphilosophical discussion (Nan Qi shu [History of the SouthernQi Dynasty] 33).
As Neo-Daoism entered its last phase, another Daoist work, theLiezi, came to rival the “Three Great Works on theProfound.” Zhang Zhan (ca. 330–400) wrote an importantcommentary on the work—indeed, some would argue that Zhang had ahand in the formation of theLiezi itself—in which herecapitulated many of the ideas that spanned the entire spectrum ofNeo-Daoist philosophy. What is of particular interest is that Zhangexplicitly introduced Buddhist ideas intoXuanxue.
Buddhism had entered China long before the Jin period. Given thesimilarity between the Daoist concept ofwu and the Buddhistemphasis on “emptiness,” it has been suggested thatNeo-Daoism was influenced by Buddhist philosophy from the start.Though possible, there is so far no strong evidence linking He Yan,Wang Bi and other early Neo-Daoists to Buddhism. On the contrary, itis clear thatXuanxue had exerted considerable influence onthe development of Chinese Buddhism. From the fourth century onward,Buddhist masters frequently engaged in Pure Conversation andchallengedXuanxue scholars at their own game. For example,theShishuo xinyu (4.32) reports that the monk Zhi Dun(314–366) challenged the “Xiang-Guo”—i.e.,Xiang Xiu and Guo Xiang—interpretation of theZhuangzi,arguing that only the enlightened sage could truly experiencetranscendental freedom. In another episode, we find Zhi Dun takingpart in a debate on the “four roots of capacity andnature” (4.51). During the Northern and Southern Dynasties thatfollowed the Jin,Xuanxue reached the pinnacle of itsinfluence when it was admitted into the official curriculum of theimperial academy. At the same time, however, Neo-Daoism also began tolose its vitality. As the early medieval period drew to a close, itwas Buddhism and religious Daoism that commanded the attention of theliterati.
Xuanxue or Neo-Daoism occupies a key place in the history ofChinese philosophy. Arriving on the Chinese scene at a point ofrupture, it redefined the classical tradition and brought intocurrency new ideas in metaphysics, ethics, hermeneutics, and otherareas of philosophical concern, which facilitated the reception ofBuddhist philosophy and laid the foundation for the Neo-Confucianmovement later. To recapitulate, mainstream Neo-Daoism is not apartisan Daoist school. Properly understood, Confucius, Laozi, andZhuangzi converge in their understanding of Dao. Secondly,Xuanxue cannot be divorced from the goal of “greatpeace.” The philosophy of nothingness and naturalness does notgive rise to pessimism or renunciation. Even Ji Kang and Ruan Ji didnot abandon the promise of renewal. Although many scholars had foundin the figure of the ancient recluse a source of inspiration, anddespite the fact that it was common for the literati to refuse office,there was an optimism that naturalness and nonaction would in the endbring about harmony and peace. Finally, it should be emphasized thatNeo-Daoism is not monolithic. The concept of nothingness, for example,may have been central to theXuanxue project, but it issubject to debate and interpretation. Toward the end of the thirdcentury, for example, Pei Wei (267–300) composed a treatiseprovocatively titled “Extoling [the Philosophical Primacy of]Being” (Chongyou lun), which should give an indicationof the vibrancy of the Learning in the Profound.
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