The Joys of Swordplay

All exercises in governance are exercises in force: they are the actions of sanctioned violence, the sanctioning of which must be justified if it is to be any different than coercion, theft, and murder. Though I have mostly avoided politics in these meditations, preferring instead to focus on personal development, it is the case that much of eastern philosophy, even in Taoist text, is political. And that makes sense. The right to rule would naturally be a consequence of the right way to rule, at least, if one believes in following the Way.

And so, chapter thirty, “The Joys of Swordplay,” argues for the just application of the sword of the state. Here, Zhuangzi appears as a character, summoned by the prince of Zhou, to convince King Wen to give up his obsession with hiring numerous swordsmen as retainers for the purpose of entertaining him through duels. Apparently, such an obsession had led to the king neglecting his stately duties, made him merciless and cruel, and invited his neighboring states to maneuver against him—presumedly because they see him as an imminent threat.

And so, in disguise as a master swordsman himself, Zhuang Zhou deploys his verbal swordsmanship against King Wen:

Zhuangzi sauntered leisurely into the palace through the doorway of the royal hall, and when he saw the king he did not bow. . . .

Zhuangzi said, “I have heard that your majesty has a liking for the play of the sword, so I have come to meet with you on the strength of my swordplay. . . . This is a swordplay that displays false appearances to the opponent, leading him on with the lure of gain, thrusting forth only after he does, but preceding him in landing the blow. . . .

“But I have three different swords. . . . I have the sword of a Son of Heaven, the sword of feudal lord, and the sword of a commoner.

“The Son of Heaven’s sword has a point formed of the Gorge of Yan and Rockwall up north, the eastern peninsula of Qi out to Mount Dai forming its blade-edge, the states of Jin and Wei to the west forming its spine, the states of Song and the former holdings of Zhou forming its hilt, and the states of Han and Wei in the west forming its handle. . . . When this sword is thrust straight forward there is nothing in front of it. When it is raised, there is nothing above it. When it is put down, there is nothing below it. When spun around, there is nothing on any side of it. . . . If this sword is used even once it puts all the feudal lords in their places and all the world yields. . . .

“The sword of a feudal lord has a point made of wise and brave men of distinction, and edge made of pure and incorruptible gentlemen, a spine made of officers worthy and good, a hilt made of officers loyal and sagacious, a scabbard made of officers heroic and valiant. If this sword is used even once, it is like thunder from a flash of lightning, and all within such the four borders submit as retainers, willingly obeying the ruler’s command. . . .

“The commoner’s sword is wielded by men. . . . Their eyes are full of rage and their words full of threats. . . . Now your majesty has the position of the Son of Heaven and yet he is fond of the sword of the commoner. To be honest, I think it is a little beneath you.” (Zhuangzi 251-2)

The sword of a Son of Heaven is a metaphor for State the which accords with the Way. There is nothing outside of its domain, not because it involves itself in each persons affairs, but because its non-doing, its wuwei, benefits all. This is a state which benefits the whole world by knowing its place and thereby where to stop. Such a state’s course is to do only that which is necessary of it, not for the sake of wealth, status, or power, but in order to fulfill its purpose: to bring peace and stability among the various lesser powers. The sword of a Son of Heaven is state which makes itself unnecessary, because when properly wielded, it accomplishes its goals and makes itself seem superfluous and invisible.

The sword of a feudal lord is the institution of the state itself, as opposed to its spirit and purpose. This sword is the bureaucracy, the individual people which make up its organs. Like the sword of a Son of Heaven, when properly used, it makes itself seem irrelevant. In the feudal lord’s sword’s case, this is accomplished through virtue and honesty—both within and without, as you’ll notice a scabbard is described as well—and through fast action. The sword, the coercive force, employed ought to be immediate and transient. Compare this to a slow, labyrinthian, grinding bureaucratic structure which wastefully devours resources, over bloating itself. Such an institution is doomed to corruption just as it is doomed to abandon its primary purpose for the sake of sustaining its own existence. Therefore, a good state institution is an efficient and effective one, one which delivers on its promises, which is not questionable ethically. The sword of a feudal lord is that kind of judicious, straight-forward application of force: transparent and transient.

Lastly, the sword of a commoner is the actual act of enforcement itself. This can be enforcement of laws and ordinances, or it can be warfare. Either way, this is the lowest aspect of the state, one which it should minimize if it is to aspire to attain the higher two. After all, the state which takes to the “Joys of Swordplay” is one which needs enemies to contend with—and so will make them. It is a state which enjoys the expansion of it bureaucratic structure and the force it imposes—therefore, it is a state which will makes itself inefficient and ineffective; it wants to contend and therefore does not want to serve its original or intended purpose.

That is all to say that the commoner’s sword is for the commoner. A single man uses force to defend his life, family, and home. But when it is a matter of state, when we are no longer considering individuals, but collective groups and aims, such a tool is beneath the institution. The joys of such a tool are in fact a detriment. A lord should abhor the necessity of his wielding force and want for it to do be over as soon as is possible. An emperor should likewise not seek war, conquest, nor subjugation, but peace and harmony. When he must go to war, it should be a decisive action with the purpose of tolerance among the various factions.

And for all of these cases, each should be strong enough to need use of its sword only once. It is not passivity or pacifism lauded here, but power and judicious wisdom in abundance enough that each level of society can pursue its particular Course and ultimately come into accord with the Great Course.

Zhuangzi. Zhuangzi; The Complete Writings, translated by Brook Ziporyn, Hackett Publishing Company Inc., 2020