《墨子》Vol. 4

Mozi believed that sages who take governing the world as their responsibility must first understand the root causes of chaos to rule effectively. Just as a physician must diagnose the source of illness to prescribe the right remedy, addressing social disorder requires comprehending its origins.

The fundamental cause of chaos lies in people's inability to love one another. This manifests in specific ways: when children love only themselves and not their fathers, they harm their fathers for personal gain; when younger brothers love only themselves and not their elders, they exploit their brothers for self-interest; when ministers love only themselves and not their rulers, they undermine their lords for personal benefit. The inverse is equally true—fathers neglecting sons, elder brothers disregarding younger siblings, and rulers exploiting subjects all lead to social disorder.

Such self-serving behavior permeates all levels: thieves who love only their own households steal from others; robbers who love only themselves injure their neighbors. Ministers disrupt other families to benefit their own, while feudal lords attack neighboring states to advantage their own domains. All turmoil in the world stems from this universal lack of mutual care.

Mozi proposed that if everyone could love others as they love themselves, unfilial and uncaring behavior would vanish: regarding another's child as one's own, how could one be unkind? Viewing another's home as one's own, who would steal? This philosophy of "universal love" (jian'ai) constitutes the fundamental solution to social chaos.

Mozi believed that the fundamental principle of benevolent people is to seek benefits for all under heaven and eliminate harm. So what constitutes the harms of the world? They include states attacking each other, families plundering one another, individuals harming their fellows, rulers and ministers failing in kindness and loyalty, fathers and sons lacking affection and filial piety, and brothers refusing to live in harmony.

How do these harms arise? All stem from people's inability to love one another. Today's feudal lords only love their own states, not others', hence they recklessly wage wars. Family heads only love their own clans, not others', hence they plunder without restraint. Individuals only love themselves, not others, hence they harm people indiscriminately.

When feudal lords don't love each other, wars erupt; when family heads don't love each other, plundering occurs; when individuals don't love each other, mutual harm follows. Without love between ruler and minister, there's neither kindness nor loyalty; without love between father and son, there's neither affection nor filial duty; without love between brothers, there's no harmony. If all under heaven cease to love one another, the strong will inevitably oppress the weak, the rich will insult the poor, the powerful will disdain the humble, and the cunning will deceive the honest.

Therefore Mozi advocated "universal love" (jian'ai), maintaining that if all people could love one another, states wouldn't wage war, families wouldn't plunder each other, thieves would vanish, and proper relationships between rulers and ministers, fathers and sons would flourish—thus bringing peace to the world. Hence when sages govern the world, they must forbid mutual harm while encouraging mutual love. When people love one another, peace prevails; when they hate, chaos follows. This is why Mozi insisted we must persuade people to care for each other.

Mozi believed that the root cause of the world's conflicts lay in people's inability to love one another. Benevolent individuals oppose this state of mutual indifference—but how should we change it?

Mozi proposed using the method of "universal mutual love and mutual benefit" to transform this situation. How to implement this specifically? One should regard others' states as one's own, treat others' families as one's own, and care for others' bodies as one's own. Thus, when feudal lords love one another, they won't wage wars; when families love one another, they won't usurp each other; when people love one another, they won't harm each other. The wealthy wouldn't despise the poor, nor would the clever deceive the foolish. All calamities, usurpations, and resentments in the world could thereby be avoided—this is what the benevolent praise.

Mozi further explained: When rulers and ministers love each other, the ruler shows kindness and ministers demonstrate loyalty; when fathers and sons love each other, fathers are affectionate and sons filial; when brothers love each other, they live in harmony. If everyone in the world could love one another, the strong wouldn't bully the weak, majorities wouldn't oppress minorities, and the rich wouldn't humiliate the poor.

Mozi acknowledged that while "universal mutual love" is virtuous, its implementation faces practical difficulties. He attributed this to people not yet understanding its benefits. Just as storming cities or sacrificing one's life for fame seem difficult to common people—yet subjects accomplish these when their rulers desire them—"universal mutual love and mutual benefit" is far easier. Those who love others will be loved in return; those who help others will receive help. What's difficult about this? The real obstacle is simply that rulers haven't adopted it as governance policy, nor scholars as their code of conduct.

Mozi cited two historical examples: Duke Wen of Jin favored ministers wearing coarse cloth, so his courtiers donned sheepskin coats, leather belts, and rough caps; King Ling of Chu admired slender waists, making his ministers diet until they could barely stand without leaning on walls. This proves subjects emulate what rulers promote. King Goujian of Yue valued bravery, training his ministers and even setting ships ablaze to test their courage.

The King of Yue offered his nation's most precious treasures to motivate his soldiers, personally beating the war drum to command the attack. Upon hearing the drumbeats, the warriors charged forward without regard for their lives, willing to brave boiling water and raging fire—over a hundred perished on the spot. When the king sounded the gong to retreat, Mozi remarked: Demanding such extreme frugality and life-sacrificing valor from soldiers merely to gain reputation makes the common people of the world find it unbearable. Yet if rulers genuinely advocate such principles, the masses can still follow them—how much more so when promoting the nobler ideals of "universal mutual love and mutual benefit"?

Those who love others will always be loved in return; those who benefit others will always receive benefit; those who hate others will always be hated; those who harm others will always be harmed. This principle is not difficult to comprehend—it's simply that rulers don't adopt it as governance policy, and scholars don't practice it as behavioral standard. Nowadays, though gentlemen scholars acknowledge the excellence of "universal love" philosophy, they dismiss it as impractical fantasy, comparing its implementation to a single man carrying Mount Tai across the Yellow and Ji Rivers.

Mozi refuted this analogy as utterly inappropriate. Carrying Mount Tai across rivers indeed requires superhuman strength—no one in history has achieved it. But "universal mutual love and mutual benefit" is entirely different; ancient sage-kings actually practiced it. What proves this? When Yu the Great governed the world, he dug the Western River's fishing channels in the west to divert floodwaters; built the Fangyuan Dam in the north to regulate the Huchi marshes; excavated the Dragon Gate to benefit both the nomadic Hu and Mo tribes of Yan-Dai region and the Western River's commoners. In the east, he channeled the wetlands of Lufang, cutting nine canals to control eastern floods, bringing stability to Ji Province's people. In the south, he diverted the Yangtze, Han, Huai and Ru rivers into five lakes, benefiting the Chu, Jing, Yue tribes and southern Yi peoples. These are clear evidences of Yu practicing "universal love."

Consider too King Wen of Zhou governing Western Qi—his virtuous governance shone like sun and moon upon all lands. He prevented powerful states from bullying weaker ones, stopped the strong masses from oppressing widows and orphans, and forbade tyrants from seizing farmers' grain. Heaven blessed King Wen's benevolent rule: the elderly found support, solitary dwellers gained companionship, and orphaned children received nurture. These sagely kings' deeds prove "universal love" is no empty theory.

This passage comes from the "Universal Love III" chapter of Mozi, articulating the core tenets of the Mohist philosophy of "universal love" (jian'ai). Mozi argues that Kings Wen and Wu of Zhou achieved their great accomplishments precisely because they practiced the Dao of universal love—caring for all people equally regardless of kinship or social status, and fostering mutual benefit.

Mozi identifies three primary sources of calamity in the world: first, large states invading small ones and the strong oppressing the weak; second, the corruption of ethical relationships such as those between ruler and subject, father and son; and third, people harming one another. The root of these calamities lies in people loving only themselves and not others ("partial love"), as seen in the way people currently injure one another.

Mozi proposes replacing "partial love" with "universal love." He illustrates this with examples: if governing another state were approached with the same care as governing one's own, who would wage war? If tending to another's capital were treated as diligently as one's own, unrest would naturally cease. This is the fundamental reason universal love can eliminate chaos—when people treat others as themselves, all conflicts naturally dissolve.

Mozi emphasizes that true benevolent and principled individuals must devote themselves to benefiting the world and eradicating harm. The only path to achieving great order in the world is to implement the principle of "mutual love and mutual benefit," the proper way of governance left by the sage-kings, which contemporary gentlemen must earnestly practice.

Mozi here examines the opposition between "universal love" (jian'ai) and "partial love" (bie'ai). He begins with a rhetorical question: Who would attack another city without cause? If we cherished others' cities as our own, who would destroy them? If we treated others' families like our own, who would harm them?

Mozi argues that when states refrain from mutual aggression and households avoid disturbing one another, this constitutes the greatest benefit for all under heaven. Tracing the source of this benefit, he emphasizes it never arises from harming others but solely from "loving and benefiting people" – a principle of universal rather than partial love.

The philosopher stresses that the mission of benevolent scholars lies in promoting universal benefits and eliminating universal harms. His analysis reveals that jian'ai generates great communal advantages, while bie'ai produces widespread suffering. Using vivid analogy, he compares this to how ears and eyes assist each other in perception, or limbs coordinate in movement – people should similarly teach and support one another. Thus the childless elderly receive care, and orphans flourish.

Finally, Mozi confronts objections: Given jian'ai's manifest benefits, why do critics persist? Through a thought experiment, he refutes them: Imagine two scholars – one practicing bie'ai (loving only kin), the other jian'ai (loving universally). Clearly the latter proves more trustworthy, demonstrating universal love's practicality alongside its ethical superiority. Mozi's conviction remains unshaken: Any truly virtuous principle must be practicable.

This passage from Mozi: Universal Love discusses the behavioral differences between "universalists" (those who advocate impartial care) and "partialists" (those who advocate differential treatment). By contrasting the words and deeds of these two types of individuals, Mozi demonstrates the rationality of universal love.

When seeing a friend starve without offering food, freeze without providing clothing, fall ill without tending to them, or pass away without arranging burial—these are the words and deeds of a "partialist." The "universalist," however, is entirely different. They believe that to become a noble person in the world, one must treat friends as oneself and care for a friend’s family as one’s own. If a friend is hungry, they provide food; if cold, they offer clothing; if sick, they nurse them; if deceased, they arrange burial.

Mozi poses a question: When people face uncertain peril on a military campaign or must travel abroad on official duty, they entrust their families to others. In such cases, would they choose a "universalist" or a "partialist"? Even those who oppose universal love would inevitably choose the universalist—proof that impartial care aligns with human nature.

Mozi then extends the analogy to rulers: Suppose there are two rulers, one practicing universal love, the other differential treatment. The "partial ruler" would say, "How could I treat the people as I treat myself? Human life is as fleeting as a white colt glimpsed through a crack." Thus, he remains indifferent to the suffering of the people. The "universal ruler," however, practices the way of impartial care.

Through everyday life and governance, this passage vividly illustrates the practical value of universal love. Mozi employs a step-by-step argument to show that universal love is not merely a moral ideal but a pragmatic choice. He particularly emphasizes the importance of aligning words with deeds, asserting that a true practitioner of universal love must "keep promises and follow through on actions," just as the two halves of a tally (an ancient credential) must fit together perfectly.

This passage discusses the Mohist concept of "universal love" (jian'ai). Mozi said: Those who claim to be enlightened rulers of the world, if they only pay lip service without taking action, are not true enlightened rulers. A true enlightened ruler should regard the suffering of the people as his own suffering—when seeing people starving, he provides food; when seeing them freezing, he offers clothing; when they fall ill, he cares for them; and when they pass away, he ensures proper burial.

There are two types of rulers today: one kind speaks one way but acts another, while the other matches words with deeds. If given the choice, the people would undoubtedly choose the ruler who practices what he preaches—the "monarch of universal love." Mozi posed a rhetorical question: Now that plagues are rampant, with people dying of cold and hunger, their corpses littering the land, which type of ruler would you choose? Even ordinary people would select the ruler who implements universal love.

Some argue that while universal love aligns with benevolence and righteousness, it's as impossible as carrying Mount Tai across the Yangtze and Yellow Rivers. Mozi refuted this by saying: From ancient times to the present, no one could carry Mount Tai across rivers, yet the six sage-kings of antiquity (referring to legendary rulers like Yao, Shun, Yu, and Tang) indeed practiced universal love. Though I never witnessed these sage-kings myself, their deeds were recorded on metal and stone, bamboo and silk. The "Great Declaration" (Tai Shi) documents how King Wen of Zhou loved all under heaven impartially like the sun and moon shining upon the earth—this was King Wen's universal love. What Mozi advocated was precisely this model established by King Wen.

Mozi further elaborated: It's not only the "Great Declaration" that records this; similar accounts appear in the "Declaration of Yu" (Yu Shi) and other classics (demonstrating that universal love isn't mere fantasy but has historical precedents).

This passage illustrates Mozi's philosophy of "universal love" (jian'ai) through the deeds of ancient sage-kings. When Yu the Great launched a campaign against the Miao tribe, he declared: "Hear me, multitudes! It is not that I dare to instigate war, but the Miao tribe has rebelled. I act on behalf of Heaven to punish them." Yu's expedition wasn't for personal wealth or pleasure, but for the benefit of all under heaven, eliminating its calamities—this was Yu's "universal love."

During a great drought, King Tang of Shang prayed to Heaven: "Though I am the Son of Heaven and possess all under heaven, if there be any offense, let it fall upon me alone—do not afflict the common people." He willingly offered himself as sacrifice to plead with Heaven—this was Tang's "universal love."

The Zhou Poetry describes the governance of Kings Wen and Wu: "The Kingly Way is broad and impartial, showing no favoritism to kin, with clear rewards and punishments." Wen and Wu treated all people equally—this was their "universal love."

Mozi counters those who oppose "universal love" with a rhetorical question: When a filial son considers his parents, does he wish others to care for them or harm them? Clearly all would wish others to care for them. To realize this wish, one must first care for others' parents. This is the practical logic of "universal love"—treat others' kin as you would have them treat yours.

Human emotions are reciprocal in nature. If you treat others' parents with kindness, they will reciprocate by treating your parents kindly; if you harbor aversion toward others' parents, they will respond with similar attitudes toward your own kin. Therefore, to receive care for one's parents from others, one must first take the initiative to care for others' parents.

This principle of mutual benefit manifests most clearly in filial piety. Are all filial children in the world forced to care for others' parents? Or has our current age deteriorated to the point where even filial devotion goes unrecognized? Let us trace the teachings of ancient kings. The Book of Odes (Shijing), in its "Greater Odes" section, states: "Words spoken shall find response, kindness given shall meet return. You give me a peach, I repay you with a plum." This illustrates how those who love others will be loved in turn, while those who hate others will be hated in return.

Yet what remains perplexing is why contemporary scholars uniformly oppose the doctrine of "universal love" (jian'ai). Do they consider this principle too difficult to practice? History in fact provides numerous examples of seemingly impossible ideals eventually realized.

Consider King Ling of Chu's fondness for slender waists. The scholars of Chu, to please their ruler, restricted their diets until they became so weak they could only walk by leaning against walls. Dietary restraint is inherently challenging, yet the people quickly adapted their habits to match their sovereign's preference. King Goujian of Yue prized martial valor—after three years of training his subjects still proved insufficiently brave, so he set fire to their ships to force their advance, whereupon his soldiers charged through flames without hesitation. The adoption of coarse cloth garments during Duke Wen of Jin's reign also represented a difficult change, yet Jin's scholars swiftly adopted rough attire to please their lord.

These examples demonstrate that even the most challenging practices—dietary restraint, charging through burning ships, or wearing coarse cloth—could become widespread within a single generation when promoted by rulers. Clearly, people naturally adapt themselves to the preferences of those in authority.

Here Mozi articulates a fundamental principle: if rulers promote the philosophy of "universal mutual love and reciprocal benefit" (jianxiang'ai, jiaoxiangli), the people will naturally follow suit. This concept is both advantageous and easily practicable, with benefits too numerous to count.

He maintains that once this philosophy is advocated, supplemented by rewards for encouragement and punishments as deterrents, people practicing "universal mutual love and reciprocal benefit" would become as natural as fire rising upward or water flowing downward—an irresistible tendency for all under heaven. This "universal love" (jian'ai) constitutes the governing principle of sage-kings, capable of securing the positions of nobility while ensuring the people's material abundance.

Mozi further elaborates: rulers should practice benevolence, ministers should demonstrate loyalty; fathers should show kindness, children should practice filial piety; elder brothers should express fraternal love, younger brothers should display respect. If gentlemen aspire to become benevolent rulers, loyal ministers, kind fathers, filial children, loving elder brothers or respectful younger brothers, they must implement the Way of "universal love." This is the sage-king's method of governance and the greatest benefit for all people.