《道德真經衍義手鈔》Vol. 8

This passage explains that those who assist rulers with the Dao (the Way) should not seek dominance through military force, as violence begets reciprocal retribution. Just as killing someone's father will lead others to kill yours, and murdering another's elder brother invites the same fate upon your own kin—this essentially amounts to indirectly harming your own family.

Mencius articulated this principle clearly in the "Jinxin" chapter of his works: "Only now do I truly understand the gravity of killing another's kin. How you treat others will inevitably be returned in kind." During the war between Zou and Lu, Mencius admonished Duke Mu of Zou: "In years of famine, your people starve to death or flee as refugees while your granaries overflow, and officials conceal the truth. This is how those in power neglect and harm their subjects." Zengzi warned us to be vigilant: "What you mete out will be returned to you." Now the people have found their opportunity for retribution—the ruler can blame no one but himself.

History bears witness through tyrants like King Ling of Chu, King Min of Qi, Qin Shi Huang, and Emperor Wu of Han—some meeting violent ends themselves, others bringing calamity upon their descendants—all due to ruthless governance devoid of the Dao. When King Ling of Chu ruled, his own sons allied with armies from Chen and Cai to rebel, slaughtering royal family members including Crown Prince Lu. Hearing of his sons' deaths, the king fell from his chariot, weeping: "Do others not love their children as I love mine?" Such are the bitter fruits of tyrannical rule.

King Ling of Chu (ruler of the Chu State during the Spring and Autumn period) had executed many sons of noble families—was this retribution now visiting him in turn? When his minister Zige advised him to temporarily retreat to the outskirts to observe public sentiment, the king realized the people's fury could no longer be quelled. Zige then proposed seeking aid from other feudal lords or defecting to a major state, but King Ling rejected both options in despair, ultimately hanging himself while fleeing. Was this not the calamity brought about by indiscriminate slaughter of the innocent?

Consider also King Min of Qi during the Warring States period. When the Yan general Yue Yi allied with four states to attack Qi, he pointed out: the Qi king was obsessed with grandiose achievements, ostracized virtuous ministers, favored petty men, and his tyrannical rule had stirred boiling resentment among the people. Later, the Chu general Nao Chi pretended to rescue Qi while secretly conspiring with Yan to partition the state, ultimately assassinating King Min. Xunzi commented on this: governing a state is like wielding a sharp blade—follow the Dao (the Way) and the nation enjoys peace and prosperity; deviate from the Dao and one suffers self-inflicted harm. Kings Min of Qi and Kang of Song were classic examples.

After Qin Shi Huang unified the Six States, merely three years into the reign of his son Huhai (Qin Er Shi), Chancellor Zhao Gao—to protect himself—instructed Yan Le to storm the palace. Yan Le confronted the emperor directly: "Your tyranny violates the Dao—the whole world rebels against you. Please end your own life!" Forced into a corner, Qin Er Shi committed suicide. Soon after, Liu Bang entered the pass, and the Qin prince Ying surrendered by presenting himself in a plain white horse-drawn carriage—thus the Qin dynasty collapsed.

These rulers all met violent deaths due to tyrannical and unprincipled governance, proving the axiom that "those who abandon the Dao find few supporters." Like grasping a double-edged sword, rulers who fail to wield power through the Dao will ultimately be devoured by it.

This passage primarily discusses the calamities brought by warfare and the Daoist perspective on military strategy.

First, historical lessons are presented: After Qin prince Ying surrendered, he reigned as emperor for merely forty-six days before the state collapsed and he perished—a karmic retribution affecting his descendants. Emperor Wu of Han exhausted his people with incessant warfare and grandiose construction projects, leading to widespread suffering and rampant banditry. Ultimately, disaster befell his descendants as well—his crown prince Liu Ju was forced to rebel, ending with both mother and son taking their own lives.

Next, metaphors illustrate the consequences of war: Land where armies have camped becomes overgrown with thorns (fields lie fallow, stones exposed). After great battles, years of famine inevitably follow. As Zhuangzi’s "The Fisherman" chapter states, when governance fails and the people lose their livelihoods, farmland turns desolate and lives are plunged into misery—precisely the devastation commonly seen in war’s aftermath.

Finally, the proper way of employing military force is explained: Those truly skilled in warfare seek only to achieve their objective ("merely the result") without bullying the weak. Upon achieving it, they refrain from arrogance (no boasting), self-aggrandizement (no flaunting), or haughtiness (no pride), recognizing it as a last resort (no alternative). As the Yijing states, the sage invented bows and arrows "to awe the world"—a necessary means to resolve conflict, not out of bloodlust. Gengsangzi (a Daoist figure) also remarked that attempting to abolish war entirely is as impractical as refusing to eat for fear of choking. Yet those who assist rulers must remain soft and tranquil, never resorting to force recklessly.

(Note: "Kui" refers to a Yijing hexagram symbolizing conflict and separation; Gengsangzi was a prominent Daoist figure.)

This passage discusses the principles of military strategy, emphasizing that armed force should only be employed as a last resort.

The text begins by citing the perspective from Kang Cangzi's "Chapter on Military Strategy": while military force cannot be completely abolished, neither should it be overly relied upon. The pursuit of hegemony through overwhelming military power is something to be wary of.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records a case of Zheng attacking Song: Zheng's nobleman Guisheng, under orders from Chu, launched an attack against Song, which was defended by generals Hua Yuan and Le Ju. The Song army suffered a crushing defeat, with many commanders captured. One revealing detail involves Song official Kuang Jiao encountering a Zheng soldier who had fallen into a well. Contrary to military protocol, Kuang reversed his weapon to rescue the enemy soldier, only to be captured himself. Commentary notes this as behavior that violated military orders and ritual propriety, destined to end in capture.

Military action requires "resolute determination" (guo yi) - "killing the enemy constitutes decisiveness" (guo), while "seeing it through constitutes perseverance" (yi). Arbitrarily changing orders inevitably leads to defeat. The text also recounts how before battle, Hua Yuan feasted his troops, but his charioteer Yang Zhen, resentful at not receiving mutton, deliberately sabotaged the battle by creating chaos, resulting in Song's disastrous defeat. Such actions that harm the state and people due to personal grudges are the most reprehensible.

The example of Tang of Shang is then cited: though his victory over Jie of Xia aligned with heavenly will and popular sentiment, Tang still felt remorse after exiling Jie to Nanchao, fearing posterity's criticism. This illustrates that even in righteous warfare, victors should maintain humility.

In summary, the passage emphasizes that the Dao of military strategy lies in "responding only when absolutely necessary." Armed force should only be used to stop atrocities, never to flaunt power or pursue dominance. After victory, constant self-reflection is essential - arrogance must be avoided.

The passage primarily discusses principles of governance and military strategy, centering on the idea that rulers should maintain a sense of reverence and exercise caution when employing force.

The author begins with the story of Tang of Shang (the founding ruler of the Shang dynasty): After overthrowing the Xia dynasty, King Tang returned to his capital, Bo (near present-day Shangqiu, Henan), but was filled with unease. He warned his people that although he had unified the realm, he feared his Virtue (De) was insufficient to bear the weight of Heaven and Earth’s mandate, trembling as if standing on the edge of an abyss. This illustrates the deep reverence ancient wise rulers held for power.

The text then contrasts this with the example of the state of Wu during the Spring and Autumn period: After defeating Yue, Wu grew arrogant and underestimated the state of Chu—an attitude of complacency that ultimately led to its downfall. Here, the author invokes the Daodejing’s teaching that "what is strong and full will decay," as such extremes violate the natural law of the Dao (the fundamental principle of the cosmos).

Quoting the Zhuangzi, the passage explains the nature of the Dao: It existed before Heaven and Earth yet does not appear ancient; it encompasses the six directions (all of space) yet does not seem vast—illustrating the Dao’s timelessness and universality.

Finally, the text discusses the proper approach to warfare: A nobleman in daily life honors the left (traditionally associated with Yang, representing life), but in military affairs, he honors the right (associated with Yin, representing death). Weapons are instruments of ill omen, to be used only as a last resort, and with detachment. As Emperor Shun (the legendary sage ruler) declared when appointing Gao Yao as his minister of justice: "When barbarians invade the Central States and bandits harm the people, one must discern with utmost clarity and enforce laws justly, ensuring punishments match the crimes, so that all may be convinced." This emphasizes that force must always be a measure of final recourse, applied with fairness and restraint.

This passage primarily discusses the principles of ancient warfare. The five mourning grades system (wufu zhidu) was used to determine crimes, with major offenses divided into three levels: high officials were punished in the wilderness, ministers in the court, and scholars in the marketplace. Exile was also classified into five degrees, though residential areas were only divided into three tiers—similar to how noble ranks had five grades but fiefdoms only three levels. A true Daoist gentleman would resort to military force only as a last resort.

When Jiang Ziya (Grand Duke of Qi) was fishing at Panxi, he obtained a jade tablet inscribed with the Six Secret Teachings (Liutao) from a fish's belly. This military treatise is divided into six sections: the Civil Strategy (Wentao) discusses governance, the Martial Strategy (Wutao) addresses quelling chaos, the Dragon Strategy (Longtao) focuses on harmonizing Yin-Yang, the Tiger Strategy (Hutao) emphasizes the judicious use of force, the Leopard Strategy (Baotao) deals with adaptability, and the Dog Strategy (Quantao) covers intelligence gathering. "Tao" means concealment, as military strategies must not be revealed lightly.

During Emperor Xuan of Han's reign, Chancellor Wei Xian advised against rash military campaigns against the Xiongnu. He outlined five types of military engagements: the righteous army (for suppressing rebellion and eliminating tyranny—certain victory); the defensive army (forced into battle—likely victory); the impulsive army (provoked by minor grievances—certain defeat); the greedy army (coveting land and wealth—certain defeat); and the arrogant army (flaunting military might—certain ruin). These five scenarios demonstrate that military action should only be taken when absolutely necessary, as forced campaigns lead to no good outcome. This aligns with the teachings found in the Wenzi's chapter on the Dao of Warfare.

This recounts stories of ancient sages who resolved conflicts through the principle of Wuwei (non-action). When Bai Gong Sheng rebelled in the State of Chu, a man named Shi Nan Yiliao peacefully reconciled two feuding families simply by juggling balls; while Sunshu Ao calmly rested with a feather fan in Yingdu, causing the Chu people to lay down their arms. These anecdotes are recorded in detail in the Zhuangzi's "Xu Wugui" chapter.

These examples demonstrate how Shi Nan Yiliao and Sunshu Ao employed the "Dao of wordless wisdom" and the "contest without contention" to resolve conflicts—exemplary models of achieving victory without battle. True wisdom doesn't rely on force but accomplishes goals through serene Wuwei. Those who glorify military victories actually delight in killing, and such people can never attain the Mandate of Heaven.

The Mencius records how Mencius told Prince Xiang of Liang (son of King Hui of Liang): "Today's rulers all delight in killing. Should one emerge who doesn't, the people would crane their necks awaiting his rule. The people's support flows like water downhill—who could stop it?"

The Liezi records how Zhao Xiangzi sent Xinzhi Muzi to conquer Di successfully—an anecdote also detailed in Zhuangzi's "Shuofu" chapter, which we needn't repeat here.

According to ancient rites, auspicious affairs honored the left position, inauspicious ones the right. Thus the lieutenant general stands left while the supreme commander stands right—applying funeral rites to warfare, as explained in the Book of Rites' "Tangong" chapter. The key point is that when a warrior is promoted to supreme commander for military merit, he must stand in the right (death-associated) position. Hence "victories should be treated with funeral rites," because war ultimately deserves no glorification.

Finally, we recall the essence of Dao De Jing Chapter 32: "The Dao remains eternally nameless." Though seemingly insignificant, none in the world can subdue it. Should lords and kings preserve this principle, all things would spontaneously submit.

In this world, those with abilities are assigned tasks according to their talents: the sharp-eyed are made to observe, the keen-eared to listen, the strong to labor, and the eloquent to speak. These specialists are all ultimately driven by Wuwei (non-action), the natural Dao. Only the Dao itself remains like uncarved wood, without any name or form to define it.

The Liezi·Zhongni chapter records: In the state of Zheng, the region of Puze had many virtuous scholars, while Dongli boasted numerous talented individuals. When Baifengzi, a disciple from Puze, passed through Dongli, he encountered the sophist Deng Xi. Looking back at his disciples with a smile, Deng Xi said, "Shall we tease this approaching fellow?" His disciples replied, "We'd love to see our master's skills in action."

Deng Xi challenged Baifengzi: "Do you understand the meaning of 'nourishment'? Creatures that can only nourish others but not themselves are beasts like pigs and dogs. True humans nourish all things and make them serve their purpose. Your comfortable life—well-fed, well-clothed, and secure—depends entirely on the rulers' governance. Living in groups like this, how are you different from livestock in pens?" Baifengzi remained silent, but his disciple stepped forward: "Haven't you heard of Qi and Lu's abundance of talent? There are master builders, expert metallurgists, accomplished musicians, skilled calligraphers, military strategists, and ritual specialists—each excelling in their field, yet none can command the others. Those in high positions actually know nothing; the real work is done by specialists like us. The rulers are merely being directed by us—what makes you so proud?" Struck speechless, Deng Xi retreated with his disciples.

This story reveals how those who consider themselves wise and talented are actually being directed by those they deem ignorant and unskilled—hardly grounds for pride. Therefore, true Dao masters neither chase fame nor flaunt abilities, appearing muddled yet wandering freely beyond anyone's control. Ordinary people encountering them need no words—the Dao's power is felt upon meeting, inspiring natural devotion. As the scripture says: The Dao remains eternally nameless and simple. Though seemingly insignificant, none in the world dare belittle it. Should lords and kings uphold this principle, all things would return to them spontaneously.

This passage elucidates a core principle: a true ruler need not rely on force or coercion to command obedience, but rather naturally earns respect through self-cultivation and moral influence.

The text cites Mencius to illustrate this truth: A true exemplary person (referring to one of virtue) maintains integrity regardless of circumstances—remaining unrestrained neither in wealth nor honor, unswerving in poverty or hardship, and unyielding even against oppressive power. If a ruler governs according to the principles of the Dao (the Way), all things will submit willingly—what need is there for force?

Further drawing from Zhuangzi's "Free and Easy Wandering," it explains: Even sage-kings like Yao and Shun possess virtue as insignificant as "dust and chaff" (using "dust and husks" as metaphors for superficial reputation). What truly matters is the inner spiritual essence, not external fame. Floodwaters rising to heaven cannot drown them; droughts melting metal and scorching mountains cannot make them feel heat—demonstrating how true sages transcend the material world.

(Note: The mentioned "Yao and Shun" are legendary sage-kings of antiquity, here symbolizing those with genuine moral cultivation.)