《道德经论兵要义述(王真)》

I, Wang Zhen, submit this memorial:

A ruler shows the greatest wisdom by listening with an open mind; a minister shows the deepest sincerity by ensuring that loyal counsel reaches the ruler’s ears. My abilities are ordinary and my understanding limited. I have served for many years in military offices and have never been to court. Your Majesty has shown me exceptional kindness and promoted me beyond my station, entrusting me with important duties. In four years, I have twice served as a governor. I have failed to share the sage ruler’s toil in worrying for the state and its people, and have not relieved the weary and suffering populace. I am truly like those ancients described as occupying an office without earning my keep, yet I have long enjoyed favor and honor. For this reason, day and night I have been fearful and ashamed, unable to rest whether sitting or lying down.

I often reflect that my body is too slow to serve the state with vigor, while my life and family are too insignificant to repay your kindness. If I withdraw, I cannot make amends for my failings; if I advance, I sincerely wish only to fulfill my loyalty. So I offer these shallow thoughts, hoping they may be of some small benefit. In observing the Way of Heaven above, weighing human circumstances in the middle, and examining the lay of the land below, I will do my utmost with a minister’s sincerity to repay the kindness of my sovereign and father. The essential meaning of the three hundred poems in the Book of Songs is to return to what is pure and without fault; the teachings in the five thousand words of the Dao De Jing, too, must lead to setting oneself aright.

Your Majesty holds to the utmost Dao as ruler and governs the world through Wuwei (non-action). Since personally taking charge of state affairs, you have brought peace and well-being to the lands under Heaven, and even the sun and moon shine more brightly through your De (Virtue/Power). The essential meaning of the three hundred poems in the Book of Songs is to return to what is pure and without fault; the teachings in the five thousand words of the Dao De Jing, too, must lead to setting oneself aright.

Your servant Wang Zhen submits this memorial: I have heard that in ancient times, the clan of Bao Xi (Fuxi) received the Dao of Heaven and Earth and governed the myriad things. Yet he still felt that the moral influence of a ruler alone was not enough. He therefore reflected in stillness on how to teach the people, so that profound principles might resonate with and connect to Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth do not speak, yet they bring forth and nurture the myriad things: Heaven generates them, and Earth nourishes them. Thus the Yellow River brought forth the Dragon Chart, and the Luo River brought forth the Turtle Writing, revealing the patterns and principles between Heaven and Earth. From these, people drew the trigrams and created written characters. Later, human intelligence gradually awakened, while the customs of simplicity and authenticity slowly faded. The truths expressed through writing alone were no longer enough to govern the world, so records also became necessary…

The Emperor Xuanyuan (Laozi) set forth teachings on the principles of Heaven and Earth in order to remedy the ills of human affairs. Thus, the five thousand words of the Dao De Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue) offer earnest instruction and heartfelt counsel, expressed with great depth. The text reveals the foundations of the Dao and De, while setting aside incidental details of expression. As a work of writing, it is like the sun, moon, and stars illuminating the heavens; as a counterpart to plants and animals, it is like the myriad things filling the earth; and as a guide to moral instruction, it encompasses the various standards of conduct people should follow.

Why is ritual said to be the beginning of disorder? Here, “disorder” also carries the sense of governing and setting things right. When events fall into confusion, they cannot be restored to order unless they are governed according to ritual. That is why ritual is called the starting point for putting disorder right.

Civil governance directs the use of force, while force safeguards civil governance. These two means complement one another and arise from the same Way of governing; they are often used together, so how could either be discarded? Forgetting warfare brings danger, while delighting in warfare invites ruin. From this we can understand that military force may be used, but must not be relished; war must be prepared for, but never forgotten.

From the time when the Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan used military force to quell disorder, successive eras after Shaohao also resorted to arms. Even after the Three Kings rose to power, rulers of sage-like virtue used force to pacify the realm. Yet the Three Kings took up arms in response to the times. Once their task was accomplished, they withdrew their troops and did not use force rashly again.

In later generations, some succeeding rulers were arrogant and corrupt, some cruel and unrestrained, some quick to anger and greedy, and others self-important and suspicious. They treated the army as their personal instrument, and the state and its people as private property. Whenever they sent troops into battle, they sought to grow more powerful and to win at all costs. They repeatedly exhausted the realm through militarism, keeping war without end. Some refused to withdraw their troops and ultimately brought about their own destruction; others indulged their desires without restraint and were finally overthrown. They subjected the people to slaughter merely to vent one person’s anger and greed. Suffering spread across the four seas, and the flames of war engulfed the world. The Daoist ruler, who governs the realm through the Dao, grieved at this devastation, yet could not abolish military force altogether and was left with no choice but to use it.

When sages use military force, they do so neither to vent anger nor to seize wealth, neither out of greed nor to avenge old grudges. Military force should be kept in order, maintained, and held in reserve to guard against the wicked and deter those who refuse to submit. It must not be used for killing on the battlefield, for hunting, or for bullying others through strength. This is the deeper purpose behind the sage’s use of force.

Anger goes against De, and weapons are inauspicious things; conflict, too, is what people detest most. Since anger violates De, weapons are used, and people’s greatest aversion is indulged, how could anyone act rashly? Thus, those who possess the highest De draw all under Heaven to them; those who possess the highest benevolence draw all within the four seas to them; those who act with righteousness draw the people of a state to them; and those who uphold ritual and law draw the people of a district to them. When these four qualities are lacking, people will not come over. When the people’s hearts do not turn toward a ruler, he resorts to military force—and using military force leads to peril. Weapons are therefore called inauspicious instruments, and are said to lead toward death. A ruler must first devote himself to De and treat the use of arms with great caution.

I have also heard that a ruler who founds a dynasty must remain alert to the possibility that his achievements are not yet complete, while a ruler who inherits the throne must remain alert to whether he can hold on to his position. This is the Way of the sage. The sage regards a matter that requires troops as one that may not truly require them, and so can lay down arms. Ordinary people, however, take a matter that may not require troops as one that must be fought, and so wars arise without end. The Daodejing’s admonitions were meant not only for the feudal lords and rulers of its time, but also to keep later rulers from resorting to arms rashly.

For this reason, Laozi deliberately wrote five thousand words. He first set out the Great Dao and highest De, the essentials of cultivating oneself and governing the state, and the principles of governing through Wuwei (non-action) and teaching without words. Only after several dozen chapters did he begin to discuss the use of arms directly. Yet, considering the profound intent of the whole work, there is no chapter wholly unrelated to military affairs. Laozi lived at the end of the Yin dynasty, when campaigns were launched by the feudal lords and the Zhou king had long since lost the proper Dao for uniting the people. Unable to criticize the rulers of his time directly, he emphasized the principles of stillness, non-contention, gentleness, humility, and yielding, thereby admonishing them.

Conflict is the cause of war and the source of calamity and disorder. The sage’s first task is to prevent conflict at its source.

Strife is the root of war and the source of calamity and disorder. The Sage wished first to block its source and sever its root. That is why the Daodejing repeatedly stresses from beginning to end that the most important thing is not to contend. If people do not contend, how could weapons and warfare arise? What reason would there be for battle formations to be drawn up? The Lord of the Dao (here referring to Laozi) warned us again and again with such earnest care—surely he had profound reasons for doing so! Surely he had profound reasons!

Heaven and Earth never speak. The transformations of Yin-Yang are subtle and difficult to fathom, so the Lord of the Dao reluctantly gave the Dao a name and created written characters, hoping that people might recognize it and act in accordance with it. The Dao is neither difficult to understand nor difficult to follow. What is more, the ancestors of our dynasty revered the Great Dao and carried on its De; the sages’ lineage has been passed down through later generations, all deriving from the same line of the Immortal Dao. The greatness and prosperity of our state are truly beyond words.

With reverence, I praise Your Majesty, the wise, sagely, cultured, and martial Emperor: Your Majesty is intelligent and discerning, profound in literary thought, and rich in wisdom; gentle and respectful, you have inherited the magnificent glory of ten generations of ancestors and continued the mandate and legacy destined for countless billions of descendants. This is truly beyond what words can express.

I respectfully consider Your Majesty to be sagacious and wise, gifted in both letters and arms, perceptive and reflective, generous and humble. You have inherited the magnificent legacy built up over ten generations and sustained the fortunes of the realm for ages to come. Your Majesty has illuminated the Dao of rulership and nurtured all things; you have upheld the ruler’s De, bringing order to the laws of the realm. Serene and practicing Wuwei, you transform all things through your wondrous teaching. When war is about to begin, you put away the weapons; where the troops have already taken their positions, you dismiss their ranks. Your Majesty governs through Wuwei and without meddling, esteeming the supreme De and supreme benevolence expounded in the five thousand words of the Daode Jing, and paying little heed to the many strategic obstacles discussed in the one hundred and twenty military treatises. You govern the realm in simplicity and Wuwei, extending profound instruction to the people. They dwell in peace and contentment, singing as they strike the earth; even village elders often praise Your Majesty’s utmost De. How fortunate the realm is! How fortunate the realm is!

In my youth I studied Confucian learning, but as I grew older I acquired no military skill with which to win distinction. Now, in this peaceful and flourishing age, I have been able to witness a stable realm and receive the nurture and protection of benevolent governance. I therefore set aside my own inadequacy and venture to expound the words of the sages. Even if I am found guilty and subjected to boiling in a cauldron, I will willingly endure it, hoping only that my humble views may be accepted.

I believe the Daode Jing already has the commentary of the ancient Master Heshanggong and the elucidation of Master Yan Junping; more recently, it has also received a commentary from the Kaiyuan era. Given these interpretations, how could someone of my limited learning and understanding dare to offer views lightly? What I discuss here is only the essentials of warfare, for which I have tried to select relevant passages from the profound principles of the Daode Jing. I have taken the opening words of each chapter of the Daode Jing as headings and set them out in order below, briefly explaining beneath each heading the intent of the Mysterious Origin Emperor, Laozi. At times I first quote the scripture to introduce my discussion; at others, I quote it afterward to bring the discussion to a close. My explanations are conjectures based only on my own understanding, expressing the narrow view of one who sees only a small part through a tube. Though I lack the ability to hit the mark with every shot, I hope at least to contribute a tiny fraction of my effort. I have therefore titled this work A Discussion of the Essentials of the Dao and De in Warfare.

My writing and understanding are shallow and coarse, and I fear they may offend Your Majesty. I am filled with dread and tremble deeply as I respectfully submit this account.

Discussion of the Essentials of the Dao and De in Warfare, Volume One

“The Dao That Can Be Spoken” — Chapter One

I, Wang Zhen, explain: Human beings are born by receiving the two Qi of Yin and Yang, and occupy a place among the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity. Of all living things, humans are the most spiritually attuned and are therefore called “the most numinous.” Among the most numinous, those who understand the Great Dao are called sages. Sages govern the myriad things on behalf of Heaven and Earth. They use words to explain the Dao and then establish names on the basis of the Dao. Yet the “Dao” expressed in words is not the eternal, true source; hence it is called “the Dao that can be spoken.” Since it is the root of all things and can be referred to by a name, it is also called “that which can be named.”

The Dao by which Heaven and Earth operate has no form or trace and cannot be sought directly. Thus the text says, “Always be without desire, in order to observe its subtlety”: only by remaining free of desire can one perceive its hidden workings. The deeds of sages can be seen, so the text says, “Always have desire, in order to observe its manifestations.” Here, “observe” can also mean to reveal or display.

The workings of Heaven and Earth proceed from the formless into form. Thus, although the myriad things all arise from the Dao, they have different names. The principle of change, meanwhile, returns from form to the formless; all of it may therefore be called “mysterious,” meaning profound and difficult to fathom. The cycle of seasons and the transformation that brings forth the myriad things are one kind of mystery. The sages’ governance of the myriad things on behalf of Heaven and Earth, allowing each to find its proper place in nature and life, is another. Hence the text says, “Mystery upon mystery.”

The Dao Lord thus means to explain that a ruler’s governance of the realm, the pacification of the myriad states, and the ordering of the armies should all begin at the gateway of this Dao. Hence it is called “the gateway to all mysteries.”

I respectfully observe that the five thousand words written by the Mysterious Origin Emperor (Laozi) will be handed down for countless ages. Their effects may be compared to Heaven and Earth sheltering and sustaining all things, and to the sun and moon shining everywhere: they bring lasting benefit to humankind. A ruler who attains this Dao can govern the realm; a lord who attains it can bring peace to his state; a minister who attains it can bring his undertakings to completion; and a scholar or commoner who attains it can understand where they ought to turn. Those who seek shortcuts and do not follow this Dao will surely regret acting in the wrong order. How much more so for those who turn from the right path, take dangerous byways, and still hope to succeed by luck?

The subtlety of the Dao reaches the deepest depths and is difficult to put into words. For this reason, the chapter opens with “the Dao that can be spoken is not the eternal Dao,” pointing out that though paths may differ, in the end they can lead to the same destination. It closes with “the gateway to all mysteries,” showing that the many strands of thought can ultimately converge. There is indeed a profound reason for placing these words at the beginning of the chapter.

Master Zhen explains: What is called beautiful is relative to what is ugly. When everyone under Heaven knows what is beautiful, this shows they already know what is ugly; when they know what is good, this shows they already know what is not good. That is why the text goes on to say: being and nonbeing give rise to one another; difficult and easy bring one another about; long and short reveal one another; high and low depend on one another; notes and tones harmonize with one another; before and after follow one another.

Once things have names, people develop all kinds of feelings, and distinctions between right and wrong, self and other, arise in turn. Once distinctions take shape, love and aversion emerge, and people begin to struggle with one another. When love and aversion contend, warfare begins. The warfare spoken of here does not necessarily involve weapons: ordinary people fight with their hands and feet; insects and beasts struggle with claws and teeth; birds fight with their sharp beaks and spurs—the pointed projections behind their feet. All of these are forms of conflict. As for rulers who wage war, they never do so without weapons and armor.

No calamity is greater than this. Therefore, one should stop using military force and promote civil governance, undertake what is beneficial and remove what is harmful, and bring order to all affairs. This is what is meant by Wuwei (non-action): not acting recklessly or imposing one’s will.

There is no greater calamity than this. Therefore, cease military campaigns and revive education; undertake what benefits the people and remove what harms them. When matters are properly handled, this is called “Wuwei” (non-action). Once moral instruction has been put into practice, there is no need to forcefully proclaim it in words. This is called “teaching without words.” Thus it is said that the sage governs through Wuwei and teaches without words.

“Wuwei” means allowing results to unfold unseen and benevolence to be put into practice quietly, so that the people benefit day by day without noticing. That is Wuwei. “Teaching without words” means setting oneself upright in order to guide those below, and not demanding of others what one cannot do oneself. The ancient practice of speaking cautiously and not opening one’s mouth lightly carries the same meaning.

If a ruler is not swayed by pleasure or anger, punishments and rewards will not be misapplied, and wars will not arise. If the ruler is not driven by greed, taxes will not be heavy and offerings will not be excessive. If the ruler is not governed by personal likes and dislikes, appointments and dismissals will be appropriate, and the worthy will be clearly distinguished from the unworthy. If the ruler does not place undue trust in personal attendants, honest people will surround him on every side. If the ruler does not covet territorial expansion, he will not wage war, and soldiers will not be burdened. If the ruler does not trouble the people, the realm will be at peace. Such, indeed, are the benefits and blessings that Wuwei brings.

“All things arise, and none is turned away” means that those above and below each abide in their natural place, without the need for many words. The ruler brings all things to life without claiming their benevolence as his own; acts without relying on his own De; and brings about change alone without claiming credit or depending on force, instead remaining humble and self-contained. In this way, governance can be simple and easy to carry out, and can endure without departing from the ruler. Thus it is said: “Precisely because he does not claim credit, his achievements do not leave him.”

Wang Zhen says: When a sage governs the state, he does not boast of his achievements or flaunt his abilities. Those above set an example through their conduct, and those below receive instruction. Once self-praise and the desire to prevail have been removed, there is no ground for strife. This does not mean that the sage makes no use of capable people; rather, he keeps people from competing for fame and profit.

From the Three August Ones and Five Emperors to kings and hegemonic rulers, none failed to respect the Three Dukes and other high ministers or to honor officials at every level. In external affairs, they relied on ministers and counselors to assist in governing; within the palace, their consorts also helped administer the realm. How, then, could one say they did not respect the capable? Certainly not.

“Hard-to-obtain goods” refers to rare and precious things from distant lands. If a ruler’s greed for treasure is never satisfied, the people must keep presenting and transporting offerings. When people continually take from one another, how is that different from theft? When thieves rise up, warfare follows.

Treasures and beauty are things people desire, but the sage understands how things work and does not let such desires disturb his inner life. His mind therefore remains undisturbed. Thus, “emptying the mind” means clearing away distracting thoughts and stopping delusion; “filling the belly” means holding loyalty and trust in one’s heart; “weakening the will” means being humble and gentle, and not showing off one’s strength or acting aggressively; “strengthening the bones” means remaining inwardly firm and preparing in advance.

“Always keep the people without knowledge and without desire” means that the ruler leads the people through upright conduct, so that even the clever dare not act recklessly. Hence the following phrase, “practicing Wuwei (non-action),” admonishes the ruler not to act rashly by taking up arms and starting wars. An old saying goes: “What did Shun do? He simply governed the realm with reverence and uprightness.” If every ruler had virtue like Shun’s, how could the realm fail to be at peace? Thus, when one governs by following the Way of Wuwei, nothing remains beyond one’s ability to govern.

Master Chenzhen says: This chapter teaches that a ruler should align himself with the Dao and govern with a settled mind, harboring neither self-satisfaction nor excessive desire. He should remain deep and clear, like the source of all things. In this way, he can naturally soften what is sharp and resolve disorder, and so restrain his radiance and quiet his might. “Blend with the light” means tempering one’s brilliance; “mingle with the dust” means becoming one with the world, and also implies accepting what is impure. Xuanyuan, an honorific title for Laozi, praises the ruler who possesses the Dao for being able to uphold the highest De in this way. Hence the saying: “I do not know whose descendant he is; he seems to have existed before the Lord of Heaven.” This means that he appears to have existed before the Lord of Heaven.

“The Chapter on Heaven and Earth Are Not Benevolent,” No. 5

Master Chenzhen says: “Not benevolent” means the same as the “not possessing De” mentioned below. Both the Way of Heaven and the way of kings bestow kindness, bringing fine benefits to all under Heaven, yet they do not claim credit for their kindness or demand that all things repay them for bringing them into being. If a ruler likewise seeks no repayment from the people, punishments will naturally be unnecessary. When punishments are no longer used, war will not arise; when war does not arise, all under Heaven can be at peace.

Thus it says: “Isn’t the space between Heaven and Earth like a bellows?” This means that if a ruler can harmonize primordial Qi and handle all affairs well, he will function like a bellows, continuing to work without obstruction. People who speak little often speak to the point. Therefore, the sage handles affairs through Wuwei and teaches without words. Hence the saying: “Too many words often lead to difficulty; better to hold fast to the center of the heart.” This is likely what the passage means.

“The Chapter on the Valley Spirit Never Dies,” No. 6

Wang Zhen says: “Valley” means nourishing and sustaining, and it also refers to emptiness. Shen and Qi move and rest within emptiness, and so they can endure forever. “Mysterious Heaven” refers to the nose, while “Female Earth” refers to the mouth. Clarity is the foundation of Heaven; stillness is the foundation of Earth. This passage says that if a ruler can long uphold the way of clarity, stillness, and emptiness, and use it to govern the world and the state, there will naturally be no need to mobilize armies or toil in frantic activity. Hence it says, “Use it, and you will not feel wearied.”

“On the Endurance of Heaven and Earth,” Chapter Seven

Wang Zhen says: Heaven is clear and bright, moving without rest; Earth is tranquil, enduring in stillness. They accord with the transformations of nature. They do not act arbitrarily, boast of their achievements, or deliberately favor themselves. They spread Yang Qi and Yin Qi, yet do not regard themselves as masters; thus they endure. The sage follows the virtue of Heaven and Earth: clear, still, and tranquil, humble and yielding, never striving to stand ahead of the people. For that reason, the sage comes to stand before them.

“To place oneself outside oneself” means not valuing one’s status or self-interest. Then troubles cannot harm one, and one’s body can be preserved for a long time. The scripture also says, “If I have no self, what troubles could I have?” This expresses precisely the same idea.

If a ruler can restrain private desires and restore ritual propriety and righteousness, bringing the people of the world back to benevolence and virtue, the people will support him, and distant peoples will come to pay their respects. In this way, war will naturally cease, and the ancestral temple and state will be at peace. Hence it says, “Is it not because he is selfless? That is why he can fulfill himself.”

Wang Zhen explains that this chapter deals specifically with the essentials of governing an army and employing troops, and that its meaning is profound. The best principles for using troops can be illustrated by water. When water floods, it causes devastation; when an army falls into disorder, it brings suffering to the people. Properly managed, water nourishes all things and allows boats to travel with ease. Properly governed, an army brings peace to the people and protects the state. Governing an army in a way that, like water, does not contend, and that rests willingly in the lowly places people dislike without harming others, comes close to the Dao (the Way).

An army’s movements and halts should therefore be guided by favorable timing and position. This is called “dwelling in a good place.” The commander’s mind should be clear and still, far-reaching and generous; this is called “a good, deep mind.” Since armies often bring danger and harm, people should be treated with benevolence; this is called “goodness in giving.” Mishandled orders in the army can cause disorder, so affairs of state must be governed well; this is called “good governance.” The art of employing troops calls for careful planning and fine judgment; this is called “good ability in one’s work.” Whether raising and organizing troops, responding to the enemy, or providing relief in the face of disaster, one must act at the right time; this is called “good timing in action.”

The earlier passage has already listed seven forms of goodness and the virtue of non-contention, yet here non-contention is mentioned again. Wang Zhen holds that the Daodejing (Classic of the Way and Virtue) earnestly counsels rulers: those in high positions should follow what comes naturally, avoid claiming credit, and refrain from forcing action; in employing troops, they should act at the right time. Precisely because they do not contend, they incur neither fault nor resentment.

“Precisely because he does not contend with others, he has no faults or grievances.” I believe Laozi uses these words to urge rulers earnestly: they should occupy the highest position and govern through Wuwei (non-action), without competing for victory with those below them. Wuwei is the root of putting an end to the use of arms, while non-contention is the foundation for bringing war to a halt. If lords and kings can recognize these foundations, reduce their decrees and actions, and put an end to strife, then weapons and armor will lie at rest, and warfare can be brought to an end.

I have repeatedly studied the five thousand words of the Dao De Jing. Whenever I probe their deeper meaning and examine the work’s central purpose, I find that it begins by speaking of Wuwei and then of non-contention, making these the foundations of its teaching.

Ordinary people find it hard to be entirely free of conflict in their feelings and dispositions. Only sages can truly refrain from contending. Conflict has many causes; here are a few in brief: people are prone to fight when they act without reflection, disregard propriety and law, fear nothing, or refuse to tolerate others. Rebellion and defiance, a hard and competitive nature, rudeness and arrogance, excessive anger, extravagance and indulgence, boasting and conceit, a taste for victory, stubbornness against reason, greed for advancement, forceful displays of strength, favoritism and hatred, arbitrary domineering, and arrogance born of favor can all provoke conflict.

Thus, if a ruler displays any one of these traits, the realm may take up arms; if a feudal lord displays any one, war may break out within his domain; if a minister or great officer displays any one, disorder may arise in his household; and if a scholar or commoner displays any one, misfortune may befall them personally.

So, if a ruler understands how to appoint capable people and bring peace to the people, he should first eliminate these failings, so that people no longer contend. When contention ceases, warfare can be quelled; when warfare is quelled, the troops can naturally be disbanded. The key lies in not contending.

To fight over a city leaves its streets strewn with bodies; to fight over land fills the fields with the dead. An ancient saying goes, “The noble person has nothing to contend over.” It also says, “When people do not contend among themselves, conflict does not give rise to war.” Why should a ruler have any need to fight over such things? Thus, the final chapter of the lower section of the Dao De Jing says, “The Dao of Heaven benefits all things and does them no harm; the sage’s way of acting is to act without contending.” This is the wisdom of knowing when to bring things to an end.

“Chapter Nine: Holding and Filling.”

Wang Zhen explains: Military strength is a means by which people protect themselves and defend their own interests. Ordinary people who wear a sharp sword three feet long or carry a dagger only a few inches long may even use force to oppress the Son of Heaven, seize a feudal lord, compel someone to make a pledge face to face, or demand that someone’s life be taken afterward—and often succeed. How much more clearly, then, must a ruler understand this, commanding countless people and occupying a position of supreme honor, second only to one person, while facing all things under Heaven: it is not easy to remain full, and it is indeed difficult to wield sharp power.

Thus the Dao De Jing says: “When halls are filled with gold and jade, no one can keep them safe. Pride in wealth and rank only brings calamity upon oneself.” The Daoist ruler uses the gold and jade that people value most as a warning, hoping they will cherish what they already have and remain cautious and alert. These words especially admonish princes and rulers: they should remain humble, cast off extravagance and arrogance, and keep this concern constantly in mind so they do not bring calamity upon themselves.

The text therefore continues: “After success and fame have been achieved, to withdraw oneself accords with the Way of Heaven.” Here, “withdraw oneself” does not mean one must necessarily resign the throne and relinquish power. It means that after achieving success, one does not claim the credit for oneself. As the scripture says: “Precisely because one does not claim credit, one’s accomplishments are not lost.” That is the meaning.

Chapter Ten: “Nurturing the Spirit and Embracing the One.”

“Po” is the yin aspect of a person’s bodily form, while “One” is the yang essence and Qi. This passage says that a ruler should preserve the original Qi, keep the mind and spirit focused and gentle, and maintain the simple virtue of an infant. “Cleanse the mysterious mirror” means to purify the heart and look inward, leaving one’s thoughts free of defilement.

“To love the people and govern the state: can this be done through Wuwei?” means that to govern the state well, one should first care for the people; and to care for the people, one should first practice Wuwei (non-action). Here, “Wuwei” means not using warfare as a means of governing, because the harm caused by war is profound. To care for the people, one should first remove this harm.

“Heaven’s Gate” refers to the breath through the nose. Breathing should be long and steady; even when body and mind are at rest, let the breath enter and leave naturally. “Clear understanding” refers to sight and hearing: perception should reach in all directions while remaining free from rash distinctions, as though knowing nothing. All of this concerns the principles of cultivating oneself, governing the state, and caring for all people.

“To give life and nurture; to give life without claiming possession, to act without relying on one’s efforts, to guide without ruling—this is called profound De” means that the sage follows the Dao of Heaven in nurturing the myriad things, yet claims no ownership over them, does not rely on personal accomplishments, and does not rule over them. This is De of profound mystery, the De of the Dao of Heaven.

“Thirty Spokes and Twenty-Six One Hub” Chapter, Section Eleven

Wang Zhen says: The wheel, the vessel, and the room each show how things with form function through what is empty, while emptiness depends on things with form to reveal its use. They are therefore offered as examples.

Weapons can be understood in the same way: although weapons have form, they also have a function of “nonbeing.” The bowstring and arrows can serve as a deterrent; they need not actually wound anyone to be effective. Thus, one who understands the use of arms keeps weapons at hand but holds them in reserve. Being prepared without using them lightly is the aspect of “non-use” in the use of weapons. From this we can see that what is empty can have a function.

Bright colors can nourish the eyes, but looking at them too much can harm the eyes and lead to blindness. Pleasing music can soothe the ears, but listening too much can damage hearing. Delicious food can satisfy the appetite, but eating too much can spoil the sense of taste. Thus, when governing a state, an enlightened and sagely ruler often corrects people’s excessive indulgence in order to preserve their bodies and calm their minds.

A ruler should make sagacity and clear understanding his foundation, and stillness his basis. If he chases wild animals across the wilderness, races his chariot over steep mountains, and drives six fine steeds at full gallop until no army, however vast, can catch him; if he competes with falcons and eagles and tests his strength against bears, even obscuring the sun and moon with banners that flutter in confusion, then rides on in reckless abandon and forgets to return, his many kills will do nothing to help him govern. When the winds and rains fall out of balance and the palaces stand empty, this is called disorder and madness. Calamity arises from it. That is why the Dao De Jing says, “Why does the ruler of a great state, with ten thousand chariots, regard his own person as less important than the world?” It speaks of just this situation.

When a ruler prizes rare and precious goods, he invites thieves. Thieves multiply, and war may follow; no harm brought by war is greater than this. Material desires also obstruct people from acting as they should. This is only natural.

Therefore, the sage values what the belly needs, taking what can nourish it without stirring desire. He does not chase what the eyes can see, because coveting what one looks at gives rise to craving. Hence the saying: “Let go of that and choose this.” That is, let go of sensory stimulation and greed, and value inner calm and practical needs.

Wang Zhen explains: A ruler can securely hold his position only because he has received Heaven’s favor. Likewise, a feudal lord can possess his fief only because he has received the ruler’s favor. Thus, favor brings prominence; prominence gives rise to arrogance; arrogance leads to guilt; and guilt brings humiliation. For this reason, the sage faces gain and loss with constant vigilance.

Rulers and feudal lords occupy high positions. If they cannot humble themselves before those of lower rank and treat others with respect, but instead delight only in warfare and rely on force, then scorn their enemies after winning, disaster will soon befall them. Clinging to self-preservation can invite harm; placing one’s own safety outside one’s concerns can, in turn, preserve oneself. Is this principle not profoundly subtle?

Those who value themselves too highly can only make a temporary home in the world; those who know how to cherish themselves can entrust themselves to the world for the long term. Thus the Dao De Jing says, “The sage knows himself but does not show himself off; he cherishes himself but does not exalt himself.” Surely this is exactly the point.

“Looked at, It Cannot Be Seen,” Chapter Fourteen (Dao De Jing, Chapter Fourteen).

Chen Zhen explains: “‘Yi’ means level and plain, and refers to the Way of Heaven. It can be seen, but never truly seen clearly. ‘Xi’ suggests something faintly present and faintly absent, and refers to the Way of Earth. It can be heard, but never truly heard clearly. ‘Wei’ means subtle and mysterious, and refers to the Way of humanity. It seems within reach, yet cannot be grasped.

“Heaven moves in clarity, yet does not deliberately display its brightness. Earth is still and deep, yet does not purposely conceal itself. Human beings flourish without end, yet do not exalt themselves by distinguishing among the myriad things. Hence it is said: above, it does not shine forth; below, it is not dim. It continues without end and is difficult to name. Considered separately, these are the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity; considered together, they form the undivided whole of De (Virtue/Power). Thus one should return to a state without form or substance. This is the form of the formless, the image of what has no concrete thing: it is called ‘hu huang,’ a state that is faintly present and absent, elusive and hard to grasp.

“This passage also says that the myriad things arise from the formless and return from form to the formless. Being and nonbeing interweave, and so they are called ‘hu huang.’ Face it, and its beginning cannot be seen; follow it, and its end cannot be seen. In other words, the Three Powers can return to a single whole, and that whole can in turn give rise to the Three Powers, with no fixed beginning or end. A ruler should therefore grasp the ancient Way of Wuwei (non-action) and use it to govern the affairs of the present, which have names and forms. Here, ‘Wuwei’ also means not to initiate warfare, while ‘that which has a name’ refers to the affairs of the state and its military. Only by understanding the root of things and returning to simplicity can one grasp the guiding principle of the Dao.”

Chapter Fifteen: “Those Skilled in the Dao of Ancient Times”

Chen Zhen explains: “‘Those skilled in the Dao of ancient times’ refers to superior adepts—people of profound cultivation—who devote themselves to the way of the sages. Only by understanding the root of things and returning to simplicity can one grasp the guiding principle of the Dao.”

Chapter Fifteen: “Those Skilled in the Dao of Ancient Times”

Wang Zhen explains: “Those in ancient times who excelled at serving as officers” means the highest officers: people of sage-like virtue who held the rank of princes and lords. “Subtle, mysterious, and penetrating” describes the workings of the Dao and De, which are difficult to express in words. When sages and worthies governed the world, whether in a state or an army, they acted with reverence and caution, as if standing at the edge of an abyss or walking on thin ice. Their bearing and thoughts were always as cautious as someone wading through water in winter. “Wary of their neighbors on every side” means handling affairs with the utmost care.

“Grave, like a guest” refers to a saying in the Dao De Jing: “In the use of arms, there is a saying: I dare not take the initiative, but would rather respond; I dare not advance an inch, but would rather retreat a foot.” “Scattered, like ice beginning to melt” means that gathering and dispersing, yielding and extending, can all change in accordance with circumstances, without becoming fixed. “Sincere and plain” means unadorned; “open like a valley” means deep and tranquil.

Turbid water, left undisturbed for a long time, will gradually become clear; when quietude is maintained for a long time, vitality will gradually emerge. These are all expressions of following the natural order, with movement and stillness each occurring at the proper time. Who can do this? Only sages and worthies. Thus it is said: hold fast to this Dao, and do not seek to be full. When princes and lords follow the Dao, they should not become self-satisfied or arrogant. Precisely because they do not become full, they do not boast of themselves or proclaim new achievements. Those who can hold to the Dao and follow their nature, never showing off, are like old things: they do not seek renewal or deliberately establish new accomplishments.

“Reaching the Utmost in Emptiness,” Chapter Sixteen

Wang Zhen explains: When the Way of Heaven becomes full and arrogant, it moves toward fullness. Precisely because it does not become full, it does not boast of itself or proclaim new achievements. Those who can hold to the Dao and follow their nature, never showing off, are like old things: they do not seek renewal or deliberately establish new accomplishments.

“Reaching the Utmost in Emptiness,” Chapter Sixteen

Wang Zhen explains: “The Way of Heaven is clear, empty, and vast. It covers and protects the myriad things without favoritism. The Way of Earth is still and deep. It nurtures the myriad things without favoritism. Yin and Yang each maintain their proper state, so people and all things can grow and develop in accordance with the laws of nature. Thus the Dao De Jing says, ‘The myriad things arise together.’

“The flourishing growth of the myriad things is a sign that life continues without end. Observing how all things cycle and return, I have seen the original nature of Heaven and Earth. Once their growth is complete, each returns to its source and becomes still. Returning to the source is called ‘stillness’; becoming still is called ‘returning to one’s destiny’; returning to one’s destiny is called ‘the constant.’ This means that when the myriad things have suffered no grave harm, they can return to their own nature and life, fulfilling the portion allotted to them by nature. This may be called attaining the Way of true constancy.

“Because sages understand the Way of true constancy, they can see clearly and understand fully, without doubt in their hearts. If a ruler does not understand the Way of true constancy, indulges his desires, recklessly commits harmful acts, and then raises armies and spreads poison, he will surely bring disaster upon himself. That is why the scripture says, ‘Reckless action brings misfortune.’

“‘Knowing the constant brings acceptance’ means that if lords and kings can be tolerant of others, and are skilled at welcoming and nurturing the people, they may be called impartial and selfless. When they are impartial and selfless, the royal Way will naturally become manifest. When the royal Way becomes manifest, the ruler’s De will accord with Heaven. When his De accords with Heaven, he can follow the Dao, remain secure for a long time, and live out his life without danger.”

Wang Zhen explains: In ancient times, the Great Dao—the fundamental principles by which nature operates—was followed throughout the world. The highest De was never deliberately displayed. The people knew only that they had a ruler; they felt no effort on the ruler’s part. The ruler governed them in daily life, yet they were unaware of it.

In the middle ages, benevolence and kindness were practiced together, and their benefits gradually reached the people. The people therefore loved and drew close to their ruler, praising and extolling him. The marks of governance began to show. Later still, people governed the state through righteousness: even minor offenses were punished, the people were mobilized, and wars were launched. The people came to fear their rulers. Later, people governed through ritual. When ritual rules became elaborate, they could easily give rise to disorder. Sincerity disappeared, and deceit arose; the people came to hold their rulers in contempt.

When trust does not come from within, people will not believe one another. They deceive one another with polished words, and empty talk may even be held in esteem. This is truly lamentable. A ruler should establish achievements without claiming credit, and sustain the work without letting it fail. The people should not feel the ruler’s power; everyone should think that all things have simply unfolded of themselves. This is good governance.

Chapter 18: When the Great Dao Is Abandoned

Wang Zhen explains: After the Great Dao fell into obscurity, a lesser form of De began to act deliberately, and the practice of benevolence and righteousness arose. Then came clever schemes, petty ingenuity, and widespread hypocrisy. Only when families fell into discord were filial devotion and parental kindness specially promoted; only when the world fell into disorder did loyal ministers appear. This shows how beauty and ugliness stand in contrast, each becoming visible through the other.

Chapter 19: Cast Off Sagacity and Abandon Knowledge

Wang Zhen explains: “This passage means that the Sage should put an end to outward displays, avoid self-praise, and refrain from relying on clever schemes and deceit. The people will then benefit greatly, so it says that their benefits will increase a hundredfold.

“Benevolence often arises when people’s hearts lack benevolence, and righteousness may likewise arise when conduct is unrighteous. If we can now do away with contrived benevolence and abandon deceitful, false righteousness, relatives will live together in natural harmony, and filial devotion and compassion will reappear.

“Then, if we also do away with excessive cleverness and abandon the pursuit of private gain, warfare will not break out; when there is no warfare, thieves will not emerge. Wang Zhen worried, however, that later generations might not understand how words that appear positive can sometimes mean the opposite. He therefore added: ‘These three injunctions are not enough if treated as mere rules, so we must also explain what they ultimately point toward: preserve simplicity, hold fast to what is genuine, lessen thought, and restrain desire.’

“Displaying the Uncarved” means keeping one’s outward appearance simple and natural; “Embracing the Uncarved” means holding to sincerity and simplicity within. Thought and desire are part of human nature. They can be restrained, but cannot be eradicated altogether. Thus the text urges rulers to lessen thought and restrain desire, so that the fortune of the state may endure and the people may receive its blessings.”

Wang Zhen explains: If we put an end to teachings that continually nourish selfish desires and pursue profit, there will be no more troubles. The difference between “wei” (a respectful response) and “a” (echoing someone else’s words), and the distance between “good” and “evil,” are both very small. So people must also be warned: Why be disrespectful and instead show contempt? Why abandon the good and turn to evil? Is this not a grave matter? Thus, even what people fear must not go unf eared.

If everyone were made to lose themselves in pleasures and desires, they would feast as at a grand sacrificial offering of cattle, sheep, and pigs, or enjoy themselves as though all had climbed a high terrace on a spring day. They would indulge their passions without limit.

Thus the Dao Lord says: “Alone, I am calm and still, like an infant who knows nothing; I am like a traveler riding in a carriage, drifting on without stopping.” This presents a humble and yielding bearing, unlike the way people boast and show off, claiming to have wisdom to spare. So the next lines say: “Alone, I seem to have lost something; alone, I harbor the heart of a fool.” Does this mean I am truly like a fool? No. I am simply dazed and subdued, as though quiet and obscure, without any fixed attachment.

I alone seem dull and unpolished, unlike everyone else, yet I cherish the “Nourishing Mother.” “Nourishing” means to receive and practice; “Mother” means the Dao. Wang Zhen uses this to urge rulers to embody the Dao and govern through Wuwei (non-action). Then warfare will naturally subside, and all under Heaven will be at peace.

Chen Zhen explains: “Hollow” means “immense” here. It refers to the expression of great De, namely, Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth are generated by the Dao and change in accordance with it; thus, “they follow only the Dao.” The so-called Dao is indistinct and elusive, impossible to see clearly. Yet within this elusiveness there are images: this describes the primordial Qi passing from nonbeing into being. Within the elusiveness there are also actual things: this describes the Qi of the Great Beginning condensing from being into form. Within the deep darkness lies vital essence. This describes the union of male and female and the transformation that brings forth the myriad things: although it takes place in darkness, unseen, it always follows patterns and gives signs. Thus, from ancient times to the present, the name of the Dao has never disappeared. All things first arose from the indistinct depths. How do I know that the beginning of all things was like this? I know it on this basis.

“Bend and Be Whole,” Chapter 22

Chen Zhen explains: “Bend” here means yielding, accommodating, and accepting what comes; it does not mean crooked or improper conduct. What follows in this chapter concerns principles that seem contrary on the surface but in fact accord with the right way. Thus, when the sage “embraces the One”—holds fast to the fundamental Dao—he upholds the principle that bending preserves wholeness, and makes it a guide for conduct throughout the world. The four points beginning with “does not display himself” all describe the Dao of noncontention. Hence the saying: “Because he does not contend, no one under Heaven can contend with him.” When no one under Heaven contends, armed conflict naturally comes to an end. Could the ancients’ saying, “Bending preserves wholeness,” really be empty words? One must indeed follow this principle and ultimately return to integrity and stillness. This is the foremost principle in governing armies and states.

“Few Words Accord with Nature,” Chapter 23

Master Chen Zhen explains: “Few words” means speaking little and making few changes. When those in high positions issue fewer complicated commands and interfere less in affairs, they accord with the natural Dao (the Way). In governing a state and commanding an army alike, one must avoid convoluted directives, harsh urgency, and violent oppression. The text therefore uses fierce winds and sudden storms as a metaphor.

Those who follow the Dao can unite with it. But if they become like those who have lost the Dao, they will mistake loss for gain. People who have long been lost accompany one another, each believing they have gained something, yet none realizing that they have lost the Dao. Hence the saying, “Loss, too, is gain.” “Trust is insufficient” means that those below lack trust, and this is also connected to those above failing to keep faith.

Chapter 24: “Those Who Stand on Tiptoe Do Not Stand Firm”

Master Chen Zhen explains: Those who stand on tiptoe or stride with exaggerated steps cannot stand upright or walk steadily. This means that people who are restless and strive to outdo others cannot follow the balanced and upright path, even when they raise troops and mobilize the people. How much less should one trust those who presume to see clearly, claim to be right, boast of their achievements, and flaunt their strengths? The sage likens these to scraps of food and ugly excesses, and rejects them all. How could a person who has the Dao engage in such things?

Chapter 25: “There Is a Thing, Formed in Confusion”

Master Chen Zhen explains: This chapter focuses on the essential nature of the Dao. It has no fixed form, yet seems to have form; it has no tangible image, yet endures unbroken.

Chenzhen explains that this chapter forcefully expounds the substance of the Dao. It has no shape, yet gives shape its function; it has no image, yet can manifest the myriad forms; it has no fixed name, yet can be named provisionally. It is not a concrete thing, yet can generate all things, so it is provisionally called “great.” “Great” means vast without bounds or end. Everything in the world is vast, and the Dao reaches everywhere. “Going” means proceeding and moving. The Dao moves without ceasing and must reach far away; when its movement reaches the limit, it returns. Hence the word “return.” This means that the Dao circulates everywhere and is therefore the source of all things under Heaven. “Mother” means the root; “ancestor” means the origin, which is also the One. Thus the scripture says that when rulers attain the One, they can become the proper way for all under Heaven. This means that one who can set people straight can govern the world. Heaven, Earth, and humanity—the Three Powers—each take the others as models, but in the end all take the Dao as their standard; the Dao, in turn, models itself on what is natural. When a ruler models himself on what is natural, he can govern things properly.

“Chapter 26: The Heavy Is the Root of the Light”

Chenzhen explains that if a gentleman is not steady, he will have no dignity; stillness is the nature of benevolence. In the sayings of the ancients, “gentleman” here refers broadly to the Son of Heaven and the feudal lords. “Traveling all day” means that even when a ruler is away for only one day, he must prepare his ceremonial escort and carriage, and remain seated among the baggage train—the military vehicles and protective equipment—in case of an unexpected event. The text also says that even if a ruler has a temporary palace far from the court, he must not rely on his exalted status as Son of Heaven to act rashly before the people of the realm. This is also a grave warning to rulers not to travel secretly in plain clothes with only one carriage and a single attendant. Acting lightly makes a ruler lose the proper decorum for directing his ministers; acting impulsively makes him lose the proper conduct expected of ministers serving their ruler. How could this fail to give cause for caution? Hence the saying: “The light loses its ministers; the restless loses its ruler.” This is what it means.

Wang Zhen says: “No wheel ruts or footprints” means leaving no obvious traces while on the march. “No flaws or errors” means holding to the center. “Using no counting rods” means winning in battle without revealing one’s plans. “Impossible to breach” means that the defenses are secure. “Impossible to untie” means that there is no clue for others to seize upon. These five methods of skillful warfare are all secretly planned and quietly applied by the sage: he does not display his intelligence or boast of himself, leave obvious traces, or reveal the situation. He always hopes to halt the fighting before war begins and quell conflict before strife arises.

Thus, the state abandons no one, and people waste nothing. Such a condition is reached by inheriting and applying the sage’s way. The sage does not parade his De before others or flaunt his benevolence to the myriad things. He simply lets the people benefit naturally in their daily lives, without knowing that the sage is at work. For this reason, he does not claim the status of a teacher. Yet the sage worries that people may fail to grasp the highest principle and instead fall into confusion, so he explains its hidden meaning in depth. This is indeed an important and subtle teaching.

“Knowing the Masculine” Chapter, 28

Wang Zhen says: A ruler naturally possesses vigorous ability, outstanding strategies, imposing bearing, and a formidable presence. He also occupies the highest position, above all the people, and is surrounded and guarded by the Six Armies—the forces commanded by the Son of Heaven—with every level of government and its officials in place. He commands awe without becoming angry and carries authority without harsh rebuke. Therefore, a ruler should always hold to gentleness and humility, still as a valley beneath Heaven. A valley is empty and spacious; it can receive all things and contain what is impure. In this way, his De can remain within him without interruption.

“To return to the infant” means to hold fast to the fundamental principle and embrace De, returning one’s nature and heart to the infant’s pure, natural state, and allowing no thoughts of artifice or deceit to enter the heart.

Even when one has understood clearly, one must always hold fast to the Dao of humility, silence, and stillness. Only then can one become a model for all under Heaven to follow. In this way, one’s De will not stray, and one will eventually return to a state of balance and integrity.

Honor and disgrace always come together. If a ruler understands that glory passes in the blink of an eye and often remembers that hardship and humiliation may follow, he can be as receptive as a deep valley. Here, “valley” and “stream” have similar meanings. In this way, De can remain abundant, and one can return to simplicity. The uncarved block is the original state of primordial Qi, the vital energy from which Heaven and Earth bring forth the myriad things. The sage divides the uncarved block, forming the many kinds of implements and abilities. By appointing people to their roles, he makes them officials at every level. “Great governance” means ruling the realm and the state. In governing the realm, why would one need to divide matters into minute, cumbersome details? Thus it is said: “Great governance does not carve things up.”

“If You Would Take the World” — Chapter 29

Chen Zhen explains: This chapter is devoted to those who overestimate themselves and seek to seize the world. It points out that I have long known they will not succeed. The word “acting” here refers to waging war. The world is a sacred vessel and must not be forcibly manipulated. To say it must not be manipulated means that the world cannot be seized by force of arms. If one tries, one is certain to fail. Even if one seizes it for a time, one will soon lose it.

Some things lead, while others follow; some are warm, while others blow cold; some are strong, while others grow weak; some carry, while others overturn. These changes all show that misfortune and good fortune depend on one another and transform into each other. Therefore, the sage casts off extremes, extravagance, and excess, strives to stand in the middle way, and holds fast to it without slackening. This is an important admonition.

“One Who Uses the Dao to Assist a Ruler” — Chapter 30

Chen Zhen explains: This chapter is devoted to admonishing the generals and ministers who assist a ruler. Its meaning is that they should assist the ruler in accordance with the Dao and not use military strength to impose their power.

Wang Zhen says: This chapter offers a particular warning to generals and ministers who assist a ruler. Its meaning is this: when assisting a ruler through the Dao (the Way), do not use military force to impose your power on the world.

Wang Zhen cites the Qin dynasty to show that military expansion often brings retribution. Li Si, Zhao Gao, Bai Qi, Meng Tian, and others did not assist the ruler in a way that accorded with the Dao. Instead, they relied on violence to conquer and seize territory. They burned the Books of Odes and Documents and buried Confucian scholars alive. At Changping, they killed more than four hundred thousand Zhao soldiers. After taking control of various regions, they slaughtered the people on a vast scale, leaving almost no survivors. Qin Shi Huang still watched the world with the ferocity of a hawk, his greed insatiable. Though the Qin dynasty’s allotted span had ended, the harm left by its tyranny continued to make people kill one another. Before long, the state collapsed.

Thus, Hu Hai was killed at Wangyi Palace, Ziying was killed in Xianyang, Fusu died at the Great Wall, and Li Si and his sons met a terrible end in Yunyang. Bai Qi drew his sword and took his own life at Duyou, while Zhao Gao, too, met his downfall in the palace. These were all consequences of acting through violence.

Where armies have been stationed, thorns often grow thick; after great battles, famine often follows. Raising an army of one hundred thousand costs a thousand gold pieces each day. Sending one hundred thousand soldiers away to war also drives a million common people from their homes. Add the calamities brought by warfare, along with drought and epidemics that follow one another, and no disaster could be more grievous.

Therefore, one who is skilled in warfare seeks only to accomplish what is necessary and dares not use force to impose power. Such a person does not boast of achievements or grow arrogant over them; troops are deployed only when there is no other choice. This is what it means not to impose one’s power. “No other choice” is a vital principle for the sage who uses troops. Military action should be decisive without being overbearing: one should not boast of victories or take pleasure in killing, but regard calm restraint as the highest good. Even when victorious, one should not treat war as something to celebrate. This is what it means to be decisive without being overbearing.

When things reach the height of their strength, they grow old; this also describes how armies decline. The phrase “long since” means that armies acting contrary to the Dao should be stopped early, without further advances. If Li Si, Bai Qi, and the others had considered withdrawing their troops and ending the fighting in time, how could they have brought destruction upon themselves?

“Fine weapons” are weapons made beautiful and sharp. Wang Zhen explains that weapons deliberately adorned to seem precious and keen are precisely instruments of death. The left belongs to Yang and symbolizes good fortune; the right belongs to Yin and symbolizes danger. When a gentleman is forced to use weapons, he should remain calm and composed. Even after winning a battle, he should take little pleasure in the victory and never delight in killing. Those killed are people of his own kind—how could he rejoice in killing them? If he were enthralled by slaughter, how could a ruler prevail throughout the world?

In ancient times, when many people were killed, people grieved and wept. Even after victory, they treated the dead according to funeral rites. Since the dead were all people of their own kind, how could they fail to honor them with funeral rites?

Later generations did things differently. Armies went to war, and victory and defeat were roughly evenly matched. Even when they happened to win, they often first proclaimed their achievements publicly on large silk banners. Generals would also inflate ten to a hundred, a hundred to a thousand, and a thousand to ten thousand, exaggerating their military accomplishments to please their superiors. Sometimes, even when superiors knew these claims were deceptive, they treated them as a way to establish their authority and sought to make their own reputations renowned. Such conduct plainly invites people’s resentment and is also judged in secret by the spirits, who may or may not forgive it. A ruler who acts this way cannot prevail throughout the world. How can a general like this be said to assist the ruler through the Dao?

The official Wang Zhen explains: “‘Uncarved simplicity’ is the underlying substance of the Dao. The Dao is subtle, profound, and present everywhere; that is why it is called ‘small.’ If rulers can hold to this subtle Dao and constantly maintain Wuwei (non-action) and stillness, all things will naturally come to them and submit. Yin and Yang in Heaven and Earth will naturally harmonize, and sweet dew and timely rain will fall of their own accord, nourishing all things. Then rulers need not issue commands, and the people can each attain a fair and fitting life.

“Therefore, rulers began to give things distinct names and establish their proper roles. Once things had names and roles, ruler and minister, superior and subordinate, and every kind of affair all knew where each should stop. A ruler should stop at benevolence; a minister, at loyalty; a son, at filial devotion; friends, at trust; husband and wife, at righteousness; military campaigns, at restraint; and the collection of taxes, at a light and moderate level. When each knows the proper measure, danger will not follow.

“For example, when the Dao moves through the world and is used to govern a state, it is like rivers and streams flowing toward the sea: their waters respond to one another, surging together day and night without pause.”

“Knowing Others Is Wisdom,” Chapter 33

The official Wang Zhen explains: “To ‘know others’ means to assess their character, listen to their words, and observe their conduct…”

I, Wang Zhen, explain: Can anyone conceal their true depth from someone who judges them by listening to what they say and watching what they do? Such things can probably be understood through wisdom. That is why it is said, “Understanding others is wisdom.” But what of clearing the heart and looking inward, so that one is free of self and others and knows oneself clearly? What could this be but illumination? “Knowing oneself” is said to approach the state of a sage precisely because it is not easy for people to know themselves.

Qin Shi Huang (Ying Zheng) swallowed up all under Heaven, and the state of Chu made the feudal lords submit. When the six states were annexed, they all retreated in fear; when the Three Armies were commanded, their troops scattered at the mere sight of the Qin forces. This can only be called overcoming others through strength. Those who overcome others through strength are often overcome by others in the end.

Could the Zhou dynasty’s loyalty and generosity not be called overcoming oneself? The Zhou people avoided the Rong and Di peoples and cared for the common people, and those who came over to join them were as numerous as people flocking to a market. When King Wu of Zhou marshaled his troops and swore an oath before setting out, even those who secretly sympathized with King Zhou of Shang came, as promised. Then the vanguard of the Shang army turned and attacked its own rear guard, and the Zhou army pacified all under Heaven in a single battle. Was this loyal and generous virtue not precisely a triumph over oneself? Later, as the Zhou rulers’ descendants declined, the feudal lords contended for power by force, yet still did not dare proclaim themselves ruler of all under Heaven. The position of supreme ruler remained vacant for forty or fifty years. Could this too be called overcoming oneself?

Thus, those who accomplish hegemony or kingship must be able to prevail; those who prevail must be strong; the strong must be skilled at drawing on the strength of others; those skilled at drawing on others’ strength must win people’s hearts; those who win people’s hearts must first be able to settle themselves; and those who can settle themselves must understand softness. Therefore, when the strong accord with the Dao, they can prevail without fighting; when the weak accord with the Dao, they can gain without contending.

Taking contentment as wealth is a human principle; material possessions can be amassed without limit. Holding firm to one’s purpose and striving tirelessly is a law of Heaven. If you are skilled at keeping to your own Dao and do not lose your roots, how could you fail to endure? If you act with the same care as when you began, how could you fail? Is this not the way to longevity?

I, Wang Zhen, explain: The Great Dao is vast and fills the world; there is nowhere it is absent. It may be on the left or on the right. This means that all things follow and depend on it. All things grow, develop, flourish, and thrive through the Great Dao, yet they do not credit it with their well-being.

When its work is complete, it does not claim the credit. This means that the sage governs the world in accordance with the Great Dao, cares for all things with an unselfish heart, and nourishes them without seeking repayment. Thus, the sage does not rule over all things as their master. The sage has no selfish desires—how could this be called small-minded? All things turn to the sage, who governs through the impartial and selfless Dao, yet does not call himself their master. How could this fail to be called greatness? Because the sage never considers himself great, he is able to achieve true greatness.

Chapter 35: “Holding to the Great Image”

I, Wang Zhen, explain: Heaven reveals the images of all things, and the sage follows them. When a ruler holds to the Great Dao and does not stray from it, people throughout the world will turn to him. He then settles and nourishes those who come to him through De (Virtue/Power), helping them flourish without harm. This is like setting out food and drink, and music and celebration, on a broad highway, so that passersby can eat their fill and be glad.

When putting armies in the field, too, the subtle Great Dao should guide their use; what matters is calm Wuwei (non-action), without display or clamor. The Great Dao has no form or trace, so an observer cannot perceive it through sight or hearing. The more widely the Great Dao is applied, the greater its effects, without end. Hence the saying, “Its use cannot be exhausted.” “Exhausted” means brought to an end or stopped.

Chapter 36: “If You Would Gather Something In”

Wang Zhen’s commentary says: This chapter is mainly about how Heaven and Earth, together with spirits and gods, harm what is full and overbearing, while blessing those who are humble. Those who govern a state or command an army must look up to observe the Way of Heaven, look down to examine human affairs, and remain constantly on guard.

When the seasons and human affairs seem to be helping me expand and advance, might they not turn around and make me contract? When they seem to be making me strong, might they not instead make me weak? When they seem to be bringing me prosperity, might they not instead bring me decline? When they seem to be making me wealthy, might they not instead leave me plundered? If a ruler can remain cautious and alert in this way, it may be said that they can perceive both subtle signs and obvious changes.

That is why the text goes on to say, “The soft and weak overcome the hard and strong.” This does not mean that a weak person is certain to defeat a powerful enemy. It means that rulers who already occupy a position of strength should all the more cultivate an attitude of using softness to overcome hardness. Humility, lowliness, and frugality allow one to endure; pride, arrogance, extravagance, and indulgence invite calamity. This is the way things ordinarily work.

The sage fears that people may still fail to understand, so the text issues a further solemn warning: “Fish must not be taken from the deep.” Fish are a metaphor for the people, and the deep is a metaphor for virtue. A ruler should govern the people by letting them live in a stable realm of benevolence and virtue, just as fish are left in deep water, safe from the hardships of drying up or being caught in nets, so they may live in peace and contentment.

The former kings made their authority shine through virtue; they did not flaunt their military might. Weapons are vital instruments of the state and must not be displayed lightly. An army should fight when necessary, but it must not be abandoned; preparations should be made at home, while endless warfare abroad must be avoided. If military might is flaunted abroad, the state may ultimately suffer the disgrace of defeat. How could one fail to be cautious?

Cheng Zhen explains: “‘Constant Dao’ refers to the nameless foundation that existed before Heaven and Earth had differentiated. ‘The Dao that is constant’ refers to the Dao as all things first acquired names. At the beginning, the Dao had no name and was the source of all primordial Qi. Later, when all things acquired names, the Dao became their beginning.

“The Dao takes nature as its model. Heaven and Earth, Yin-Yang, all harmonize and operate naturally, without deliberate action; this is called Wuwei (non-action). The seasons continue to turn as usual, and all things continue to grow and ripen; this is also called ‘nothing is left undone.’

“Heaven’s Dao benefits all things without harming them, so a ruler should take Heaven’s Dao as his model. He should do everything possible to prevent harm to the world, and everything possible to bring it benefit. The greatest harm to the world is the use of arms; its greatest benefit is the end of warfare. If rulers and lords can hold fast to the natural Dao, all things will transform of themselves and return to harmony.

“After all things have been taught and transformed, if people begin to breed desires and seek reckless action, they should be settled through the ‘nameless uncarved simplicity’—the plain nature untouched by carving or distinctions of name and form. Taking desirelessness as their foundation and quieting their hearts, they can return to the root and recover their original life, coming back to the constant Dao. Once they return to the constant Dao, all things will naturally fall into proper order. Thus the Jing says, ‘The world will set itself right.’ It also says, ‘When I am still, the people naturally become upright.’ The Analects likewise says, ‘If those at the head act rightly, who would dare not to be right?’ This is precisely the principle being expressed.”

Essential Points on the Use of Arms in the Dao De Jing, Volume Three

“Superior De Is Unaware of Its De” (Chapter 38)

Cheng Zhen explains: “‘Superior De’ is De that has become one with the Dao. In the age of the legendary Three Sovereigns, people were so simple and natural that their way of life could scarcely be described in specific words. The Jing says, ‘Those of inferior De do not lose their De…’”

Wang Zhen, a minister, explains: The highest virtue is one with the Dao. This was the age of the legendary Three Sovereigns, an age so remote that it can scarcely be described in words. Thus the Daodejing says, “Those of lesser virtue seem virtuous, yet do not cling to virtue.” This means that virtue is simply one way in which the Dao exerts its power.

By the age of the Five Emperors, people had begun to feel affection for one another. In the early period of the Three Kings, Dao, virtue, benevolence, righteousness, and ritual operated side by side to prevent trouble, restore order, and govern the world. Considered as a whole, the principles behind governing the world or a state, and cultivating oneself, are the same. Thus, although the Three Sovereigns, the Five Emperors, and the Three Kings followed different practices, their intentions were in accord; their paths differed, but they reached the same destination. A ruler should draw on Dao, virtue, benevolence, righteousness, and ritual together, like five materials that work in combination: none can be left out.

The Daoist ruler—here, a ruler discussed through Daoist thought—cites antiquity to explain the present and expose the loss of virtue in his own time. In the age of the Three Sovereigns, weapons stood on either side of the palace, and all under Heaven was at peace. By the age of the Three Dynasties, war had arisen. People’s trustworthiness had waned. Though ritual exchanges still involved jade and silk, they had become empty formalities and could no longer bring genuine harmony between those above and those below. Nor could people in later times match the customs of antiquity.

Once the rites fall into disuse, society descends into disorder; to remedy disorder, one must attend to ritual. The phrase “disorder is still order” means that ritual is the starting point for bringing confusion under control. Yet the Daoist ruler also intends to show the successive levels of cultivation: if a ruler sets aside ritual and practices righteousness, he can then go beyond righteousness and practice benevolence; beyond benevolence and honor virtue; and finally, by ceasing to cling even to virtue, return to the Dao. Thus the scripture says, “A great man takes his stand on what is substantial, not what is superficial; he holds to what is true, not what is showy.”

In other words, one should set aside the more superficial norms of ritual and righteousness and turn instead to the profound roots of Dao and virtue, using them to govern and instruct all under Heaven. This is a deeply considered teaching, and so the scripture says, “Set aside that side and choose this one.”

I, Wang Zhen, explain: Laozi cites the principle that Heaven and Earth, the spirit valley, and all things come into being through “attaining the One” in order to admonish rulers to be cautious and humble. Heaven and Earth seem to rely on nothing, yet their clarity and tranquility allow them to endure; still, one must be alert to the possibility of their collapse. The spirit valley seems to rely on nothing, yet its numinous abundance allows it to persist; still, one must be alert to its possible exhaustion. All things seem to rely on nothing, yet they can grow and continue; still, one must be alert to their possible extinction. Rulers seem to rely on nothing, yet their honored position makes them powerful; still, they must be alert to the calamity of overthrow. Thus, one should take lowliness as one’s foundation. If one does not presume on one’s strength, one will not contend for dominance. When contention ends, warfare will cease; when warfare ceases, one can long preserve the blessings and emoluments bestowed by Heaven.

Chapter Forty: “Reversal Is the Movement of the Dao”

I, Wang Zhen, explain: The myriad things move and grow in profusion, and none fail to return to their roots. Hence it is said, “Reversal is the movement of the Dao.” The movement of ordinary things always leads to rest. When warfare ceases, one can long preserve the blessings and emoluments bestowed by Heaven.

Wang Zhen explains: The myriad things move and emerge in profusion, yet in the end they all return to their source. Hence the saying, “Returning is the movement of the Dao” (returning to the source is how the Dao operates). “Returning” means going back, or reverting. Ordinary things move by continuing to act; the Dao moves by passing from activity into stillness.

Through this return to the source, one may perhaps glimpse the original nature of Heaven and Earth. Stillness is their root, while movement is their function. When the activities of the myriad things return to silence, they return to their source. Therefore, the sage acts with care and often abides in Wuwei (non-action). Knowing deeply that all things return to their roots and abide in stillness, the sage can understand the constant Dao. Only by understanding the constant Dao can one avoid acting rashly; by not acting rashly, one becomes clear-sighted.

Softness and weakness are how the Dao exerts its influence. By putting the way of softness and weakness into practice, the sage can prevail over those in the world who are forceful and violent.

Here, “things” may also refer to affairs. All affairs in the world arise from “being,” while “being” arises from “nonbeing.” Therefore, the sage often handles affairs through Wuwei, allowing the myriad things to return to stillness. Then they can come into being naturally, without deliberate planning or human intervention. This is what is meant by “being arises from nonbeing.”

“Those of the highest understanding hear of the Dao,” Chapter 41 (heading for this passage).

The True Minister explains: Sages and worthy people come in different kinds; how much more so ordinary people and scholars? How could they all reach the same level? So the Lord of the Dao broadly divides people here into three grades—upper, middle, and lower—to show how deeply they understand the Dao.

King Wenxuan said, “If I hear the Dao in the morning, I can die that evening.” This reveals the upper-grade person’s ardent resolve to seek the Dao. People’s abilities differ, high and low, which is why some are criticized as “seeming to preserve the Dao while seeming to lose it.” And because summer insects cannot believe that ice exists, it is said that “those who hear of the Dao will laugh aloud.”

Thus it is also said: “One who understands the great Dao seems dim and ignorant.” This describes the virtue of Heaven: high above and brilliantly radiant, Heaven often appears dark and hard to discern. “One who walks on the great Way seems to be moving backward.” This describes the virtue of Earth: Earth’s breath rises in vapor and its life force surges upward, yet it occupies a low and yielding position. “A level road seems uneven.” This describes the virtue of a ruler: though the ruler stands as high as Heaven, he should be one with the people and never exalt himself.

For this reason, a ruler endowed with the highest virtue should also occupy a low position, like a stream valley: humble and receptive, able to embrace all things. A ruler of the greatest purity should also seem to place himself amid filth and disgrace. Even when vast and complete in every respect, he often appears to lack something. And even when he wishes to establish virtue among the people, he must always be cautious not to display himself deliberately. Hence it is said that he seems slack. Even one who truly perceives and practices the great Dao often appears to have changed.

The greatest square has no corners. The greatest vessel is often completed late and does not seek swift recognition. The greatest sound is rarely heard, yet can stir creatures lying dormant. The greatest image has no visible shape and presents itself as formless. The Dao has no name by nature; it is named only as a makeshift. As the source of all things, it lets them grow by following their own nature. Hence it is said that the Dao excels at giving and bringing all things to completion.

If a ruler can uphold De and govern the world with humility and gentleness, keeping his virtue hidden and letting things follow their natural course, who could contend with him? When there is no contention, war and weapons naturally subside and lie dormant.

The explanation states: After primordial Qi (the fundamental energy from which heaven, earth, and all things arise) first comes into being, it continues to generate without end, and so all things fill the space between heaven and earth. At birth, all things carry Yin’s austere energy on their backs and embrace the Yang energy of warmth and light. Only when Yin and Yang are in harmony and attain a balanced state does a being become human. For this reason, humans are called the most spiritually perceptive among all things. With both spiritual perception and intelligence, people can understand the principles of loss and gain.

People may take upon themselves titles they dislike because they wish to accept a loss of their own accord in order to gain something. That is why it is said: “Some things benefit from being reduced, while others suffer from being increased.” This is the principle at work. The same principle of loss and gain should guide the instruction and admonition of others. If people fail to understand it and rely only on superior numbers and strength, delight in warfare, act violently and arrogantly, and underestimate their enemies, they will inevitably suffer defeat and humiliation; they may even see their entire army destroyed, cities massacred, and people harmed. This is clear proof of a death that comes at the wrong time. Hence it is said: “The overbearing and domineering do not meet a good end.” In governing the world and the state, no disaster is greater than this. That is why it is said: “I take this as the foundation of instruction.” The meaning is that among the important principles for teaching and admonishing others, none is more important than this.

“Nothing in the World Is Softer Than Water,” Chapter 43

The explanation states: “Utmost softness” means humility and stillness; it is the Qi of nature. “Utmost hardness” means rigidity and agitation; it is the person who acts deliberately. Soft stillness stands opposed to rigid movement, and in the end the weak overcome the strong. Hence it is said: “What gallops through all under heaven is the most yielding…”

Wang Zhen says: The softest state is humble and tranquil; this is what is called the Qi of nature. The strongest state, by contrast, is forceful and restless, and belongs to the realm of deliberate action. The soft and tranquil can overcome the forceful and restless: softness ultimately prevails over strength. Thus it is said that the soft can govern the hardest things in the world.

If a ruler can put the subtle and profound Dao into practice and reach the state of Wuwei (acting in accord with nature and refraining from needless action), nothing will be beyond his reach. Hence the saying, “Nothing enters where there is no space.” Acting through Wuwei means using tranquility to bring things to their proper order and not rashly taking up arms.

“Teaching without words” means that a ruler guides the people by setting himself right and leading by example. The people will naturally follow, without waiting for the ruler to issue commands. This is the meaning of “People do not obey his orders, yet they follow his conduct,” and of the scripture’s phrase, “practicing the teaching without words.” There is no better way for a sage to govern the world. The Daoist ruler lamented that few people in his time could do this, and so said, “Few in the world can do it.”

“Which Is Dearer, Name or Self?” Chapter 44

Wang Zhen says: “Name” means official rank and emoluments. Those who compete for rank often forget themselves. “Goods” means wealth and precious possessions. Those who crave material riches often take their own lives lightly. Compared with the self, fame and gain are less dear; the body is more important than wealth. Even a dull person understands this.

Yet when faced with gain and loss, giving and taking, people are often confused, and even ordinary people are not immune. Only the sage understands that contention can be brought to an end, and so does not compete for rank. The sage also understands that having enough wealth is sufficient, and so does not harm the self, accumulate excessive possessions, or thereby invite great loss. In this way, one can remain free of humiliation and danger throughout life, and enjoy lasting security.

“Great Completion Seems Incomplete” Chapter 45

As Minister Zhen explains, even when the Sage is in a secure and carefree position, he does not boast of his achievements. He often behaves as though something is lacking, and so his actions never bring the worry of harm or failure. Even when he has more than enough, he does not grow proud of his abundance. He remains humble, and so his actions never lead to hardship.

The Sage is straightforward with others, yet yielding and humble with himself. Thus, he acts with reserve, as though hiding his skill, and makes use of his simple nature. He is also careful with his words, as though he could not speak well, and puts an end to showing off his eloquence and using clever, flattering speech.

On closer examination, the passages above all ultimately point to the virtue of stillness and tranquility. The text explains this by setting agitation against stillness, and cold against heat. Stillness and tranquility mean Wuwei (non-action); here, “non-action” means refraining from rashly waging war. In this way, one can become the ruler of all under Heaven. The text also says, “I cherish stillness, and the people naturally become upright,” and, “When there is no reckless desire and stillness is maintained, all under Heaven will naturally be at peace.” These express the same principle.

Chapter Forty-Six: “When the Way Prevails Throughout the World”

As Minister Zhen explains, when warhorses are sent back to work the fields, and the land is overgrown with brambles, is this not a sign that the Way prevails throughout the world? If defensive works are built everywhere outside the city, and warhorses breed in the fields, can this be a world where the Way prevails?

When a ruler gives free rein to his desires, the people under Heaven suffer the consequences. When his cravings grow without limit or restraint, the people under Heaven are harmed. When the ruler obtains everything he wants, the people under Heaven are drawn together into calamity. But if those in high positions understand that knowing what is enough is itself to have enough, who among the people under Heaven will not always feel content?

King Wang Zhen explains: A ruler should model himself on Heaven and follow the Earth, remaining respectful and self disciplined, and govern the world facing south with uprightness. In the highest position, he practices Wuwei (non-action), needing only to let his robes hang and fold his hands. Officials below each perform their own duties and naturally bring matters to completion. In this way, laws and standards remain proper, and all things proceed smoothly. Why wait until acting personally to know, seeing with one’s own eyes to name things, or doing something with one’s own hands to accomplish it?

“Daily Increase Through Learning” Chapter Forty-Eight

King Wang Zhen explains: “Pursuing learning” means transmitting the rites, laws, and decrees established by the rulers of earlier generations. Since regulations consequently grow more numerous day by day, this is called “daily increase.” “Pursuing the Dao” means skillfully closing the seven apertures—the sense openings of the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth—and holding fast to the Three Treasures: compassion, frugality, and not daring to put oneself ahead of the world. This is called “daily decrease.”

The Dao of Heaven reduces what is excessive and supplies what is insufficient. The Dao of the sage reduces what is excessive and uses it to nourish the world. Hence the saying, “decrease it, and decrease it again.” One who can apply this principle will naturally attain Wuwei. The sage thinks little and desires little, puts an end to military campaigns, and cultivates civil rule, so he does not act recklessly. Yet when he knows of something beneficial to the world, there is nothing he will not do. Hence the saying, “there is nothing he does not do.”

When the sage rules, he is constantly without action and without interference, and takes the people’s wishes as his own. In this way he can win the people’s allegiance. If a ruler takes action, he will seize the people’s possessions through taxation; if he launches military campaigns, he will endanger their lives with weapons. Then families will be torn apart and people will rebel; the state will fall and the people will be plunged into hardship. How could such a ruler win the people’s allegiance? Hence the saying, “This is not enough to win the world.”

“The Sage Has No Constant Mind” Chapter Forty-Nine

Wang Zhen says: “The sage makes the people’s wishes his own,” meaning that he follows the wishes of the people. Even when some people behave badly, the sage still treats them with goodwill. He teaches them through De and guides them toward goodness. Thus the Dao De Jing says: “If someone is not good, what reason is there to cast him aside?”

Even when people are untrustworthy, the sage still trusts them, again following the people’s wishes. In doing so, he shows that if he himself lacked trustworthiness, people would become even less trustworthy. He therefore teaches them through De so that they will keep their word. This is why both virtue and trustworthiness must be carefully examined.

The sage is constantly concerned for all under Heaven, never resting for a moment. He works to bring people’s hearts back to simplicity and unity, guiding them away from evil and toward goodness. The people therefore listen intently and watch closely for the sage’s intentions, while the sage cares for them as a parent cares for children. Hence the scripture says, “They are all like children.” Since the sage comforts the people of the world as though raising children, he is plainly their parent. What parent would use weapons and punishments to harm their own children? Certainly none.

Wang Zhen explains: Going out and moving about are signs of vitality; resting and drawing inward are signs of moving toward death. “Three out of ten” refers to the four gates and nine apertures. The four gates are the source through which nature and life flow; the nine apertures are portals through which desires enter and leave. The opening and closing, stillness and movement of the source must follow due measure, and the portals must open and close at the right times. Following this pattern leads to longevity; going against it brings death.

The most important thing in preserving life is to nourish it. But excessive nourishment can damage life, which is why the text asks, “Why do some people take preserving life so seriously?” Those skilled at preserving life are the sages. The Lord of the Dao is humble and does not claim to have seen or heard anything, hence the words, “I have heard.”

The sages’ way of living benefits all things without harming them. How, then, could external things harm them? Even when entering the wilderness, they do not hunt in hopes of encountering fierce beasts such as tigers or rhinoceroses and then killing them. Even when entering a military camp, they do not don armor, take up weapons, and actively seek out enemies to kill. In this way, they avoid the danger of being wounded by weapons, because they keep their sharpness in check, blend into the common world, nourish their original Qi, hold fast to the enduring Dao, and understand the principle of life’s ceaseless renewal. This is why the text asks, “Why are some able to escape the place of death?” In the latter days, people take up arms and put themselves in mortal danger, yet still hope to escape death. Is that possible?

Wang Zhen explains:

The Way of Heaven has no personal attachments, yet it brings all things into being. The Virtue of Earth has no personal attachments, yet it nurtures all things. Thus, all things take shape, and the tendencies of things change and come to form. There is nothing among the myriad things that does not honor the Dao and cherish De. The Dao is honored and De is cherished because they naturally receive from Heaven their rank and stipend. Who could deliberately confer such rewards on them? Therefore, lords and kings should take Heaven and Earth as their models for the Dao and De.

As a ruler, one should allow all things to grow, be nurtured, and mature, and protect them without missing the proper time. One should also avoid claiming credit or relying on force, cease controlling and exploiting all things, and bring conflict to an end. Only then can one be said to accord with Heaven’s De. This is called “Mysterious De,” the profound and subtle De.

“The World Has a Beginning,” Chapter 52

Wang Zhen explains:

The Dao is the source of all things. Once it has a name, it becomes the mother of all things under Heaven. A ruler dwelling at the center of the world should take it as a model, as the children of all things do. Having recognized the children of all things, one must return to and keep watch over their mother—that is, hold fast to the Great Dao.

A ruler should keep to the Dao and nurture all things, shutting off the ears and eyes and gathering in the senses, so as not to be drawn along by external sounds and sights. In this way, one can avoid hardship and danger for a long time. One must also be able to perceive subtle signs and prevent them from developing in time; this is what it means to be clear-sighted. One must also hold fast to the Dao of weakness, and only then can one ultimately attain strength.

“To use its light” means to let De appear outwardly. “To return to its brightness” means to observe and follow the Great Dao inwardly. If one governs the state and commands an army without harming the myriad things, what calamity could be brought upon oneself? This is why it is said, “to follow the constant.” “Follow” means to employ in secret and observe quietly; a ruler should always apply the Great Dao in this way.

“If I Had Even the Smallest Knowledge,” Chapter 53

I—Wang Zhen’s self-reference—say here: “I” refers to the ruler. If a ruler can remain steadfast and independent, see matters clearly, act in accordance with the Great Dao, and ensure that everything carried out is proper and fitting, then he is most worthy of respect and careful regard.

The Great Dao is broad, level, and straight, and easy to follow. Yet people refuse to walk it, preferring side paths and narrow tracks, vainly hoping that shortcuts will bring them quick success. But haste often keeps them from reaching their goal. This passage therefore earnestly warns people not to abandon the Great Dao in pursuit of immediate gain.

The offices of the court may appear clean and orderly, while the fields lie barren and the storehouses stand empty. Generals, whether or not they have earned merit, wear costly silk, carry swords, eat and drink to excess, and hoard wealth. They take possessions especially from the poor to support their lavish households. This is thieves flaunting their extravagance. How could it be called following the Great Dao?

The Daoist ruler—Laozi, author of the Daodejing—was deeply troubled by the decline and hardship of the age, and by the fact that the world had fallen into such error. He therefore wrote this chapter to issue a stern warning to all.

“On What Is Well Established and Cannot Be Uprooted,” Chapter 54

Wang Zhen’s commentary says: “Those skilled at establishing a foundation” refers to rulers who found a state. Their virtue brought them far-reaching renown, so once they established a kingdom, its foundations were not easily shaken. “Those skilled at preserving what they have” refers to rulers who inherited the throne. They held their position through benevolence and virtue, and were therefore able to govern securely for a long time.

This chapter explains that only by cultivating virtue in every respect and governing with benevolence can rulers pass lasting blessings on to later generations. Success and failure do not depend on some supposed allotment of Heaven’s Mandate or the times, nor are they determined by warfare and the use of force to seize the realm. Thus the Dao De Jing says: “The world is usually won through Wuwei (non-action); once one meddles and acts recklessly, one is not fit to win it.” It also says: “The Way of Heaven favors no one, yet it constantly assists the good.”

From the ancient Heavenly Emperors through the Five Emperors, some of their descendants held the throne for tens of thousands of years, while others did so for several thousand. In the Three Dynasties of Xia, Shang, and Zhou, even though tyrannical rulers damaged their dynasties’ fortunes, those houses still endured for eight or nine hundred years before finally falling apart and losing their states. Does this not show that dynastic rise and decline were truly determined by Heaven’s Mandate or by warfare and force? Clearly, they were not.

The “Si Qi” ode in the Book of Songs says: “First set one’s wife aright through ritual and law, then extend this to one’s brothers, and thereby bring order to family and state.” It also says: “The descendants of King Wen, both the main line and its branches, continued from generation to generation.” This is why the Dao De Jing says: “How do I know what is happening throughout the world? I know it by these principles.” Is this not precisely what it means?

Chapter Fifty-Five: “The Chapter on the Abundance of De”

Wang Zhen explains: This passage speaks of a ruler whose De is profound, whose spirit is undivided and whose breathing is calm, as simple and unspoiled as an infant. He has no clever schemes or calculations and is free from worry. Through sincerity, he understands the principles of things, and so nothing can harm him. Venomous creatures, fierce beasts, and birds of prey are metaphors for evil people who cause harm. The point is that even when violent men are full of menace and harbor poisonous intent, they ultimately cannot harm a ruler of profound De.

An infant can cry without becoming hoarse because its calmness has reached the utmost. When all Five Constant Virtues—benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness, as understood in Confucianism—are present, this is called harmony. Hence the saying: “To understand harmony is to be constant; to understand constancy is to be clear-sighted.” What gives life without end, nourishing and enriching all things, is called an auspicious sign.

A ruler should examine and discipline his body and mind each day, keeping himself gentle and compassionate. He must not indulge his temper or rely on force, or he will become overbearing. The Commentary, a general term for ancient works, says: “At the first beat of the drum, morale rises; at the second, it wanes; at the third, it is spent.” This shows that acting on forceful momentum alone cannot last. When strength reaches its extreme, it begins to decline; an exhausted and weakened army falls into a passive position. The same principle applies here. One should therefore curb overbearing conduct early and not let it continue.

“Those Who Know Do Not Speak,” Chapter 56

Wang Zhen explains: When applying the principles of the Dao to warfare, those who truly understand do not reveal its essential secrets; those who enjoy talking often do not grasp what is crucial. Hence the saying: “Those who know do not speak; those who speak do not know.” Blocking the outlets of desire and the senses, and closing the gateways through which the mind and spirit wander outward, is the profound key to the art of war. Blunting sharpness, resolving disputes, and the six…

Wang Zhen explains: To guide the use of armed force by the Dao, those who truly understand its essential secrets do not speak of them lightly. Those who enjoy talking about them often do not grasp the essentials. Hence the saying: “Those who know do not speak much; those who speak much may not truly know.”

Restraining the desires of the senses and shutting out external temptations are profound secrets of the use of armed force. Blunting sharpness and resolving conflict, so that one can join with one’s surroundings without showing an edge, are its most important principles. These profound truths cannot be explained one by one, and so they are called “Mysterious Unity” (xuántóng), a state of deep and seamless communion.

Thus, when a sage leads an army into battle, it can win; when defending, it can stand firm. Nothing under Heaven has the power to oppose it. Yet the sage does not take the world’s enemies lightly, favor some over others because of distance, seek advantage or harm out of gratitude or resentment, or rank people as higher or lower because they share the same status. For this reason, the people of the world hold the sage in respect.

The minister Zhen explains: In governing the state, one should follow the proper Way. “Governance” means setting things right. When the ruler sets an example and acts rightly, who would dare to act otherwise? In warfare, one must use the unusual; “unusual” means adapting to circumstances. If such adaptation accords with the Dao (the Way), what harm can it do? To gain all under Heaven by means of noninterference—here, “noninterference” means avoiding war and the use of weapons. That is why the scripture says, “How do I know these principles? I know them from this.”

The scripture also says that taboos multiply because rulers fish the waters dry and plunder excessively, then impose layer upon layer of prohibition. The people are left with too little, and wealth cannot circulate among them. Their growing poverty is therefore inevitable. If everyone is also allowed to indulge in schemes and wield sharp weapons, how could the state avoid falling into confusion? Here, “confusion” means disorder. When people show off their skills and pursue rare, ingenious things, they unsettle the ruler’s mind. The more numerous and severe the laws, the more thieves there are, because people cease to fear death.

Thus the sage says, “When I practice Wuwei (non-action), the people transform of themselves.” That is, when there is no warfare and people are left in peace, they follow the teaching of their own accord. “When I do not interfere, the people grow prosperous of themselves”: when taxes and forced labor are not imposed, people can live in peace and gradually become wealthy. “When I love stillness, the people become upright of themselves”: when they return to the root and recover their original nature, they become upright naturally. “When I have no desires, the people remain simple of themselves”: when they are not drawn along by appetites and desires, they naturally preserve their simplicity.

“When Governance Is Muddled” Chapter Fifty-Eight

The minister Zhen explains: In governing the state, the ruler should restrain his own cleverness and widen the scope of his instructions, so that government remains gentle and unintrusive. Then the people will naturally remain simple.

“When Governance Is Muddled” Chapter Fifty-Eight

I, Wang Zhen, believe that a ruler should restrain his own cleverness and talent, make laws and instruction more lenient, and maintain an unadorned, generous manner. Then the people will naturally return to simplicity. If those in high positions scrutinize everything harshly, those below will deceive and disobey, seeking only to escape punishment by chance, and people will lose trust in one another.

Good fortune may rest upon misfortune, and misfortune may conceal good fortune. Both arise from people’s actions and unfold as events develop. Victory and defeat, gain and loss, favor and disgrace alternate with one another. Whatever the circumstances, one’s own person and family, the household and the state, and even all under Heaven may be drawn in. Therefore, whether an affair is great or small, one should act with reverence and caution, and be especially alert to the way fortune and misfortune transform into each other.

Most people hope only for good fortune to arrive and give little thought to the possibility of misfortune. When beset by misfortune, they do everything they can to turn it into good fortune; when enjoying good fortune, they take no precautions against misfortune. Thus it is said, “Who knows where it will end?” What is more, people may regard what is right as evil and good deeds as calamities. This is what is meant by: “People have been confused and unenlightened for a long time.”

Therefore, the sage abides by his own principles but does not impose judgments on others. He keeps himself upright and free from impurity, yet does not look down on ordinary people. Instead, he disciplines himself and treats others with generosity. Hence it is said, “Upright, yet not overbearing.” The sage holds back his sharpness and keeps his cleverness within; hence it is said, “Luminous, yet does not dazzle.”

“Regulating the People and Serving Heaven,” Chapter Fifty-Nine.

Wang Zhen explains: “‘Cherishing’ means valuing and caring for others. A ruler who governs the people and reverently serves Heaven should take benevolence as the foundation. That is why it is said, ‘Nothing is better than cherishing.’ When the way of benevolence is put into practice, all under Heaven will submit early; and when all under Heaven submits early, De accumulates without cease. With De deep and abundant, one can win when going to war and remain secure when defending. Thus no difficulty cannot be overcome. When victory is assured wherever one goes, one’s power becomes immeasurable; and with immeasurable power, one can establish a state. Once a state has a foundation, it can endure for a long time. ‘The Mother’ refers to the Dao. When a ruler preserves the state by following the Dao, the state’s foundations naturally grow deep and secure, and the ruler can enjoy lasting peace and good fortune.

“Governing a Great State” (Chapter 60)

Those who govern the world and its states should act like someone cooking a small fish: they should not turn it over or disturb it too often. Government should take calmness and freedom from unwarranted interference as its foundation. In this way, the Dao will not be lost. When the Dao is preserved, Yin-Yang will be harmonized; when Yin-Yang is harmonized, wind and rain will come in due season; and when wind and rain arrive at the right time, the hundred spirits will be at peace. With the hundred spirits at peace, harmful and uncanny forces cannot cause disorder. Thus it is said, “Ghosts and spirits do not manifest to cause trouble.” Moreover, when a wise ruler is above, weapons need not be used. The people will be sincere and compliant, and will naturally receive Heaven and Earth’s protection. It is only natural, too, that the sacred and spiritual forces should respond in harmony and that blessings and virtues should gather in abundance.

“A Great State Is Like a Downstream Basin” (Chapter 61)

I, Wang Zhen, believe that this chapter chiefly explains why a ruler should always make humility his virtue. How could he rely on weapons and force to win disputes? When large and small states deal with one another, and when people of every kind are treated and welcomed, a careful look at the reasons and circumstances shows that each is pursuing what it wants. Since each side has its own aims, the stronger party should lower its stance. The principle is clear. Humility means reducing the advantage of those above and benefiting those below. It is for those in higher positions to practice this, not for those below to be required to do so. That is why the Book of Changes says, “By humbly treating those of low status despite one’s own eminence, one can win the people’s hearts.” Surely this is the very point.

“The Dao Is the Treasure of All Things,” Chapter 62

I, Wang Zhen, believe that sages cherish the Dao because it can protect and nourish the people under Heaven. Among the people of the world, few do good, while many do not. Can those who do wrong simply be cast aside? Therefore, sages establish the Son of Heaven and appoint the Three Dukes—high officials who assist the ruler—and work to lay down weapons and use punishments sparingly. They praise good words and honor good conduct, hoping that the people will mend their ways and turn toward goodness. They guide them through governance and moral instruction. For this reason, the Dao is treasured throughout the world. Why compare a great jade bi disc with a team of four horses to decide which is more precious?

“Practicing Wuwei,” Chapter 63

I, Wang Zhen, offer this explanation: A ruler who follows the royal Way begins governing by remaining upright and quiet, with his garments hanging loosely and his hands folded. Thus the text says, “act through Wuwei (non-action),” meaning to act without reckless interference. He ends the use of arms and does not contend with others. Thus it says, “attend to what is no affair,” meaning not to multiply tasks by continually doing more. He holds the Great Dao within and has spiritual illumination in his heart. Thus it says, “savor what has no flavor,” meaning to experience the flavor of the flavorless.

The wishes of the people in all the lands, and the feelings of the multitude, find expression even in ordinary weather, such as winter cold or summer rain. How, then, could a ruler concern himself only with the size of a matter or the number of people involved? He should comfort the people in every case, so that they have no resentment or blame to bear. Thus the text says, “Repay resentment with De (Virtue/Power).”

The difficult things under Heaven surely begin with what is easy. This means that if a ruler dismisses small matters because they are easy to handle, troubles may arise from them. Great undertakings under Heaven surely begin with what is subtle. This means that if a ruler neglects small acts of conduct, he will ultimately damage his great De. Therefore, the sage guards against trouble while it is still subtle, gradually accumulating small efforts to accomplish great things. If he waits until a matter is evident and has grown large before dealing with it, it will be too late. That is why the sage never regards himself as undertaking great things, and is thereby able to accomplish great things.

Those who make promises lightly often find it hard to keep them; those who regard matters as too easy often invite further difficulties. This is an inevitable principle. Govern in a simple and straightforward way, and affairs are easy to carry out; treat them carelessly, and trouble will arise. The sage therefore always treats affairs with due gravity, exercising the utmost caution. In the end, every matter goes smoothly, and nothing proves difficult. Thus the text says, “In the end, nothing is difficult.”

“On Holding Fast to Things While They Are Stable,” Chapter Sixty-Four.

Wang Zhen explains: This chapter is mainly about how success or failure depends on whether people follow the right way of doing things and remain faithful to it from beginning to end. For this reason, the sage does not dare to act rashly or pursue quick success at all costs.

When people stay alert to danger even in times of safety, it is easier for them to remain steadfast. When they follow the natural patterns of things, it is easier to make plans. If treachery and disorder suddenly arise, they can be easily quelled by dealing with them promptly while they are still fragile and just beginning. If they are dispelled as soon as the slightest signs appear, they are not difficult to resolve. Thus, one should act before anything has happened and bring order before a situation becomes chaotic. With foresight, the sage acts early, before signs have emerged, so that problems do not spread and become difficult to control.

A great tree grows from a tiny sprout, a high terrace is built from basketfuls of earth, and a long journey begins nearby, beneath one’s feet. These three examples show that great achievements accumulate from small beginnings, and distant journeys must start close at hand. Follow the natural pattern and allow things to unfold step by step, and they will eventually reach their proper outcome. Skip the necessary stages and rush toward success, and the pursuit of speed itself will become a burden.

Therefore, one must not act recklessly in warfare; rash action inevitably leads to defeat. One must not insist on using weapons; determined resort to force inevitably brings loss. The sage acts neither recklessly nor with attachment to force, and so avoids the defeat and loss that follow.

People in the world often approach their tasks with doubt and hesitation, then seek shortcuts once they are on their way. In leading armies and defending their states, they often ruin things themselves just as success is within reach. This is because they misunderstand what must come first and what must come later, forgetting that care is needed from beginning to end. Thus, if one is as cautious at the end as at the beginning, one will not ruin what one has undertaken.

The sage does not pursue what everyone else pursues, and so does not prize rare goods. The sage studies what others do not study, to remedy the mistakes people commonly make. The sage simply assists the myriad things as they naturally grow and mature according to their own patterns, and in the end does not impose personal views upon them or act without due cause. Thus, one should assist the myriad things in following their natural course, without unwarranted interference.

Wang Zhen says: This chapter explains that the rulers of ancient times who were skilled in following the Dao did not use clever schemes and political cunning to instruct the people. Instead, they kept the people simple and sincere. The Jing says, “People are difficult to govern because they have too much cleverness and deceit in their hearts.” It also says, “Governing a state through cleverness brings disaster upon it.” This does not mean that a ruler endangers the state by governing wisely. Rather, it means that when the people all become calculating, deceitful, and full of schemes, they may become a danger to the state.

Ordinary people have limited understanding. They may act first out of suspicion and deceit, and may not know how to distinguish right from wrong or what accords with the natural course from what goes against it. It is even harder for them to tell whether their rulers are soothing them or abusing them. Some gather in their villages; others rise up in crowds across the land. One person takes the lead in rebellion, and many follow. In the end, this often leads to war. Keeping the people of the realm true to their simple and honest nature is therefore a blessing for the state.

If a ruler understands this and leads by example, becoming a model of proper conduct, then he accords with Heaven’s De. This profound and mysterious virtue is worthy of a ruler’s emulation. When a ruler follows the natural course and allows all things to return to simplicity, the people of the realm can attain a state of great harmony.

Wang Zhen says: This chapter uses the rivers and seas as a particular metaphor to explain how the rivers and streams can all flow toward them.

“Why Rivers and Seas Can Be Kings of All Valleys,” Chapter 66

Wang Zhen’s commentary says: This chapter uses rivers and seas as a metaphor to show that a ruler should be humble and gentle, and remain in a lowly position. Only by being supremely humble and yielding can a ruler win the support of all under Heaven. When people support him sincerely, they will gladly recommend him and will not grow weary of him. In this way, there will naturally be no contention between those above and those below.

The principle of “non-contention” accords with Heaven’s virtue. Heaven nourishes all things without making a show of it; it moves throughout Heaven and Earth without deliberately striving to prevail. Who among all under Heaven could contend with one who does not contend? That is simply impossible.

“Everyone Under Heaven Says I Am Great,” Chapter Sixty-Seven.

The True Minister explains: This chapter sets out the importance of the “Three Treasures,” the three fundamental virtues spoken of in Daoism. It therefore begins with “I am great.” “Great” refers to the essence of the Dao. Those of lesser understanding do not grasp this and so take it to be ordinary, nothing out of the way. Here the ruler is urged to reflect carefully on the meaning of the Three Treasures, preserve them, and put them into practice. The text first discusses the consequences of taking up or abandoning them, to show the merit of compassion and frugality.

The scripture says, “Because one is compassionate, one can be brave.” This speaks of compassion as a fundamental virtue. If a ruler’s compassion can win the wholehearted loyalty of everyone under Heaven, even to the point of laying down their lives, is that not bravery? The scripture also says, “Because one is frugal, one can be generous.” If a ruler’s frugality can bring prosperity to everyone under Heaven, is that not generosity?

Thus the Three August Ones used these principles to defeat the Nine Li; the Five Emperors used them to eliminate the Four Fiends; and Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou used them to pacify the realm by force of arms. King Cheng and King Kang of Zhou, as well as Emperor Wen and Emperor Jing of Han, used them until punishments were almost no longer needed. By contrast, Jie and Zhou abandoned the Three Treasures, and their states fell. King You and King Li of Zhou abandoned them, and they died as their realm fell into disorder. The rulers of Qin abandoned them, and the Second Emperor of Qin was killed. Xiang Yu abandoned them, and in the end his head and body were separated. Emperor Wu of Han abandoned them, and the population and strength of the realm were greatly depleted. Cao Cao abandoned them, and the realm came to be divided among Wei, Shu, and Wu.

So the scripture says, “Only by abandoning compassion does one become forceful; only by abandoning frugality does one become extravagant.” To abandon compassion is to refuse to care for the people. The people will then have no reason to repay their ruler with their lives. How could a ruler, relying only on his own fierce courage, truly inspire the people under Heaven to fight his enemies? To abandon frugality is to fail to value resources: to impose heavy levies, build grand palaces, and expand the army. In the end, wealth and grain are exhausted. How, then, can the ruler be prosperous?

The scripture also says, “By putting oneself last, one can come to the fore.” It also says, “To stand at the head of the people, one must first place oneself behind them.” Thus the sage never dares to contend for leadership over all under Heaven, yet in the end becomes their leader.

The results of practicing the Three Treasures, from the Yellow Emperor to Emperor Wen and Emperor Jing of Han, were as described; the consequences of abandoning them, from Jie and Zhou to Cao Cao, were likewise as described. Thus the scripture says, “With compassion in warfare, one can prevail; with compassion in defense, one can stand firm. Whomever Heaven would save, it protects with compassion.”

“Those skilled at serving as generals do not glorify displays of force or aggression; those skilled in warfare do not engage lightly; those skilled at defeating the enemy do not contend for superiority; those skilled at employing others always place themselves below them.” This is how things are. Thus it is said: fight with compassion and you will prevail; defend with compassion and you will stand firm. When Heaven is about to aid someone, it protects that person with compassion.

Chapter 68: “Those Skilled as Warriors Do Not Display Force”

The minister Wang Zhen explains: A ruler whose conduct accords with the Dao (the Way) always governs through Wuwei (non-action) and teaches without relying on words. How could such a ruler glorify military force? Those skilled in warfare do not fail lightly; what matters is remaining calm and unassuming. Even when they win a battle, they do not treat victory as something to boast about. Instead, they approach it with sorrow, as if attending a funeral. What place, then, is there for anger?

A wise ruler’s De (Virtue/Power) accords with Heaven and Earth. Naturally, such a ruler does not contend with others. Thus it is said: “Those skilled at defeating the enemy do not contend.” A king economizes in his expenditures, cares for the people, and puts them to work in keeping with the seasons for farming. When appointing ministers to assist him, he regards them as his own hands, feet, heart, and inner organs. When appointing generals, he respectfully entrusts them with military authority and personally helps push their carriage as they set out. First he wins their trust, then he draws on their strength. Thus it is said: “Those skilled at employing others always place themselves below them.” This is the virtue of noncontention. The virtue of noncontention can accord with Heaven and serve as a guiding principle for conduct in the world. That is why it is called “the highest principle from ancient times.”

Chapter 69: “On the Use of Arms”

Wang Zhen says: The Dao Lord is modest and does not wish to speak about military affairs himself, so he borrows the words of military strategists to explain the principle.

In warfare, the side that takes the initiative is the “host,” while the side that responds later is the “guest.” A sage wages war only when compelled, so he waits until the enemy invades before taking action. Since he rises to meet the enemy’s advance, he is always in the guest’s position. He attacks little and withdraws to defend often: that means remaining composed and cautious, keeping plans deeply concealed, and facing a powerful enemy with steadiness. Even when the enemy invades, I am skilled at leading troops but do not deploy them in battle formation. Since I can lead troops without arraying them, I will naturally not launch a campaign on my own initiative. Hence the saying: “When you move, it is as though you do not move.”

Since I have not set out to wage war, my soldiers hold their ground in the cause of justice. Why, then, should they brandish their arms to show their strength? Even when a ruler who has the Dao encounters a violent enemy leader who invades recklessly, he can explain the principles through words and make his intentions clear with shields and feathered ornaments, objects used in ritual dances in ancient times. Once the other side understands what is right, it will withdraw, and there will naturally be no more enemies. Hence the saying: “Continue to remain without enemies.”

When the enemy retreats, put away the weapons. Hence the saying: “There are no weapons in hand.” Once the weapons have been put away, one must guard against forgetting to remain prepared for war. So the warning continues: “No calamity is greater than making light of the enemy; if you do so, you will nearly lose what you treasure.” To make light of the enemy means being eager for war abroad while remaining wholly unprepared at home. Better to seek battle abroad than to leave the home front entirely undefended: a war abroad may end in victory or defeat, but being unprepared at home leads inevitably to ruin.

When a sage is on the throne, he can indeed ensure that there are no enemies under Heaven. Yet from the perspective of a ruler governing the state and judging whether it is orderly or chaotic, there may be many enemies. Why? The Book of Documents says: “If you treat me well, I will support you; if you abuse me, I will hate you.” In this light, the people under Heaven may become enemies; so may the people of a state, a village, a household, or even a single person’s own self. Thus, when a king does not look down on low-ranking officials, he wins the hearts of people in every state. When a duke or marquis does not mistreat widowers and widows, he wins the people’s support. When ministers and high officials treat their subordinates and servants well, they win the hearts of people at every level.