FOUR
The Kuru sovereign Yudhishtira says to his grandsire Bheeshma, lying on his bed of arrows, “I have heard that a king’s is the highest dharma. Pitama, I would learn my dharma from you.”
Bheeshma says, “A king’s first dharma is to worship the Gods and to honor brahmanas who are illumined men. But he himself should always be a karma yogin, a man of deeds. There are those that say destiny is all-important in a king’s life. Karma comes first, Yudhishtira. Destiny is important, but his own actions shape a king’s destiny. Indeed, I would even say a king’s deeds are more powerful than destiny.
The king’s second dharma is to be truthful. If you are a man of truth, your subjects will honor you, trust you. A king must be above reproach. He must be restrained, humble and righteous. He must be a master of his passions.
Justice must be like breathing to him: it must come naturally. As for his weaknesses, he must know how to conceal them, to be perfectly secretive about them. He must know his enemies’ weaknesses and hardly let them know he does. A king’s plans must be opaque, known only to himself and, perhaps, one or two counselors whom he trusts.
A king’s demeanor should be unafraid and straightforward. He must not be too mild. He will be disregarded if he is and his subjects will have no respect for him. That does not mean he should be harsh or tyrannical and that his people should be unduly frightened of him.
Most of all, a king must know how to choose those who serve him. He should be a judge of men and know whom he can trust and who are dangerous. Compassion must be part of the good king, but never weakness. If he is weak, the lowest men will take advantage of him.
Vigilance is integral to a king’s every moment. He must always be alert and study both his friends and his enemies. Above all, he must remember his first duty is toward his subjects. He must nurture them as a mother does the child in her womb. His dharma is never to please himself at his people’s expense. As a mother is with her child, a king should be with his people: their welfare should be his only concern.
A king must be the loneliest man in the land. He must not share his inmost thoughts with anyone, not his closest advisors. He must be adept at dealing with the stronger enemy, the equal and the weaker one. He must know how to employ spies and sow dissention in his enemy’s city, to divide those that serve his enemy. He should know how to bribe his enemy’s soldiers and officials, make them betray their master.
A king should speak pleasantly at all times. He should surround himself with those that are as noble as he is, whose natures and thoughts concur with his own. Indeed, the only difference between himself and those that serve him should be the crown on his head.
The noblest king is the one in whose country the subjects are like children in their father’s house. They are contented, because it is their own home they are living in. There is no deceit or pretence among them, no envy or dishonesty.
The essence of a king’s dharma is to secure his subjects’ prosperity, their happiness. There is no harder task on earth and he must use varied methods to achieve his ends. Most important are the men he appoints to positions of power. They must be honest and sincere men, yet he should never trust them entirely. The treasury must always be full, for the king’s power stems from his wealth, as well. He must always have a powerful army to protect his kingdom, for that, too, is the secret of his strength. He must be a master of creating discord in his enemies’ kingdoms, because therein also lies his strength. He should be wary and always on his guard against his enemy, who would do the same to him: create dissension within his country, his very court.
The king is the justice in the land. He is the one who metes out punishment to wrongdoers and protects the righteous. He should be honest; but he must know the ways of the world, how to fight fire with fire. He can never afford to be a simpleton. And yet, the world must never see him as being other than candid and straightforward.”
Thus, Bheeshma of the Kurus discourses on the dharma of a king to Yudhishtira. He dwells on the many nuances and secrets of kingship and they soon find the day has flown by and the sun is sinking in the west. Yudhishtira takes his Pitama’s hand and says, “You must rest now. I will return, first thing in the morning. There is so much I have to ask you still.”
Bheeshma lays his palm on Yudhishtira’s head. He shuts his eyes and peace steals over him. He falls into a deep, healing sleep.
The next morning, Yudhishtira and his brothers arrive with the sun. Yudhishtira has a question for his grandsire. “Pitama, how does a king come to be called Rajan? He is just a man like all other men. He is subject to joy and grief. His mind and his senses are like those of other men. His lives for as long as other men do. Among his subjects, are men that are his superiors in intellect, in wisdom and courage. Yet, the king rules all the others. Why is one man elevated to being a Rajan, Pitama?”
Bheeshma says, “Long ago, in the first ages of krita and treta, there were no kings or kingdoms. The world was one and all men lived as one, in love, sharing the plenitude of the earth. The pristine spaces of nature were man’s inheritance and he was fulfilled in them, he rejoiced in them. All men were like brothers; they cared for one another as parts of themselves.
As time advanced, evil crept into the hearts of men. Covetousness was the first darkness to cloud the light of men’s minds: they became greedy and wanted possessions. Ancient man was free of such possessiveness; he knew his natural place in the order of things and exulted in time and its subtle fruit of wisdom and delight.
The first step toward darkness was covetousness, but lust was not far behind. Lust never hunts alone; wrath arrived with it. The age grew dark and anarchy and confusion swept the world. The original Veda vanished from the lips and the minds of men; dharma vanished with the Veda. The guardians of the world, the Devas, took panic and came trembling before their sire Brahma in his sabha.
Indra cried, ‘Lord, the world you created is plunging toward destruction. You must save it.’
It was then that Brahma composed the Neeti Shastra, an interminable treatise on conduct. It contained a hundred thousand edicts. So far, men had been pure and had needed no more than their untainted natures to be their guru. Now they were corrupted, their hearts had grown dark; they had need of a law outside themselves. When there is a law, someone must enforce that law. For the first time, men were divided into rulers and the ruled.
The Neeti Shastra dealt with the four concerns of human life: dharma, artha, kama and moksha. Brahma dwelt on these, at length. An important part of the Neeti Shastra dealt with crime and its punishment: what constituted a crime and how each crime should be punished. There were two kinds of punishment the Shastra dealt with, the open and the secret punishment. It dealt, for the first time, with traders and trade and the conservation of wealth. It dealt with rishis and tapasya. It spoke of thieves and other criminals and how they should be treated.
Another section of the Neeti Shastra dwelt on religious observances and rituals and the conduct of the various officials in the kingdom: of counselors, spies, ambassadors and the method of conciliation.
Brahma composed that Shastra in a mere moment and he said, ‘Let this be called the Dandaneeti, the way of chastisement. There has never been crime or punishment before in the world. Now, there is already crime and let there be punishment as well.’
The treatise was studied and abridged by the great Gods, Siva being the first. Just before it was given to men, the wise Sukra saw it. He knew men’s lives were short and most of them would hardly have the time to study such a voluminous Shastra. Sukra pared the original Dandaneeti down to its present form of a thousand essential edicts. Then, the Devas brought the tract to the Lord Vishnu who lies upon eternity’s ocean of bliss. They said to him, ‘Lord, show us a man on earth worthy of ruling all other men.’
Vishnu said to them, ‘I will enter the body of one man. He and his sons shall be lords of the earth.’
A man called Vena was chosen to be king. From Vena’s right arm, a son was born and he was as glorious as Indra. He was born wearing a coat of mail and with all the occult and earthly weapons. He was born knowing the Vedas and the Shastras, the art of war and of kingship and all the other arts, too. His name was Prithu and the rishis made him king of the world. Men said, in those days, that Prithu was the eighth son of Vishnu himself.
Prithu leveled the uneven earth. Vishnu and the Devas came down to witness the coronation of Prithu. Bhumidevi came as a Goddess bearing treasures of gold and jewels for king Prithu. Prithu asked her to be a cow and he milked her for the seven foods, which all living creatures would eat. Prithu was the lord not only of men, but also of the forests and the trees and the birds and beasts in them.
It was Prithu who first established dharma in the world and elevated it above all else. Prithu brought peace and righteousness back to the earth and because the people loved him, he was called Rajan: ‘He who pleased all men’. Because he healed men’s sick minds, he was also called Kshatriya; because the earth was pervaded by virtue during his reign, she was named Prithvi, after him.
Vishnu is said to have entered that first king’s body and Prithu was blessed with divine intelligence, superior to any other man’s. Thus, a king was created by the Gods themselves and was not to be trifled with. That was why he ruled the world, but not the world him. And so, Yudhishtira, a king is called Rajan.”
Yudhishtira asks, “What is the dharma of the people?”
“Their first task is to choose a king and crown him. For his treasury, they must give up a fiftieth part of their livestock and gold and a tenth part of their grain. They should help him choose from among them men that are proficient at arms, so the kingdom can have an army. It is said a fourth part of the people’s punya, their virtue, accrues to their king and so, too, a fourth of their paapa, their sins.
Before their king, the people should be as a sishya before his guru, humble. A king whom his own subjects honor will naturally be feared by his enemies.”
“What are a king’s other duties, Pitama?”
“First of all, a king should subdue himself. Then it will be easy to subdue his enemies. There is no conquest as hard as that of his own five senses. Every king must wage a lifelong war against these.
A king must have an army to defend his kingdom and his people. He must be vigilant, because danger is always near. He must have spies who warn him of everything that goes on in his enemies’ kingdoms, why, in their very hearts. His spies must be the cleverest of his agents. They must seem like fools before whom an enemy will speak freely, without fear; or they must seem like men that are deaf and blind. In fact, they must be wise men, sharp and loyal, a king’s eyes and ears in his streets and in distant parts. His spies must be the hardiest, most incorruptible men, strong and able to bear long privations: exile, cold, heat, violence and hunger. A king must have secret agents in his own court, that spy on his ministers, his friends, even on his sons. His spies should report only to the king himself. They must not know one another, or they will become too powerful.
The king, on whom his people rely, must never hesitate to be ruthless with his enemies. It must not be beneath him to use treachery, fire and poison against them. He should take a sixth of his people’s income for himself, as tithe, to maintain his army for their protection. His people are a king’s children, but he must not be overly compassionate when punishing the criminals among them, or he will lose respect.
Honest men, who are perfectly trustworthy, must be appointed to administer justice in the kingdom. If they are corrupt, the nation becomes weak. The old adage is so true, Yudhishtira: that the king makes the age; and not the other way, that the age makes the king.
Yet, the four yugas have their different natures and gifts to bestow on the earth. The age when the kings of the world rule entirely by the Neeti Shastra is called the satya or the krita yuga. Dharma prevails perfectly in this yuga and evil is unknown. It is an age when there is hardly any need for a king. The earth yields food without being tilled or sown and life-giving herbs and sacred plants, which cure every disease, grow abundantly. Sickness hardly exists during the halcyon krita and men live long lives. Every season is full of delight and peace and harmony suffuse the earth and its rulers reign immaculately by the Dandaneeti.
Then, comes an age when the king rules with three parts of dharma and one of darkness. This is the treta yuga. The earth no longer yields food on her own, but waits to be tilled. The third yuga is the dwapara and its sovereigns employ a half part of dharma to rule and the other half adharma, evil. The earth gives only half of what she can and the foods she yields are only half as nourishing as they once were. The herbs of healing, also, have lost their power by half and men too have lost half their dignity, strength and splendor.
In the last age, the kali yuga, the kings of the earth oppress their own people. Adharma is the rule of the day and hardly a fourth of the Dandaneeti is used. The earth is governed by anarchy and violence. All kinds of diseases sweep the world and men live short, harsh lives. The men of this yuga are diminished in every respect; indeed, they are hardly men in the sense that men of old were. They are creatures of darkness, their hearts ruined by greed, lust, malice and envy. The clouds do not bring the rain in season; drought and famine have their way with the world.
These are the yugas, Yudhishtira and the king is said to cause them.”
“Pitama, the king is the lord of wealth. Whose wealth does he own?”
“The Vedas say that the wealth of all men, except brahmanas, belongs to the king. It is the king’s dharma to support the holy ones, who bless the kingdom.”
The Pandava asked, “No king can accomplish even the smallest task by himself, but he needs his ministers. What are the traits and the dharma of the king’s ministers? What kind of men are worthy of being ministers?”
Bheeshma says, “A king is usually surrounded by four kinds of men. The first kind is the one whose opinion is always the same as his own, dharma or not. The second kind is the man who is sincerely devoted to his sovereign. The third is related by blood; and the fourth may be those who began as enemies, but have been won over with gifts.
There is also a fifth man, who serves only dharma. This fifth kind is rigid and a king should exercise caution while confiding in him. A king has to rule not only with dharma, but with adharma, too; and the fifth kind of friend or minister will censure him whenever he uses the dark ways. He might even betray him.
Most important is choosing the ministers with whom a king will surround himself. When power and position are involved, no man can be trusted entirely. A dishonest man can appear honest and an honest man, a villain. Power also changes men. A man who was scrupulously honest can be corrupted by power and become dishonest. Thus, no one must be trusted implicitly. Yet, a king cannot be unduly suspicious either. He must blend trust with mistrust, judiciously. He should use one minister to spy on another.
But of all those close to him, a king should fear his own blood like death. A kinsman always considers himself the king’s equal or his superior and he is more envious than anyone else. His own kinsman cannot bear to see a king prosper.” A wry smile twitches at the Kuru patriarch’s lips. He says, “But you know all about that, Yudhishtira. Yet, a king needs his kinsmen more than anyone else. With them, also, he must behave as if he trusts them completely, but in truth he must always be watchful.”
Yudhishtira asks, “What kind of men should be made legislators? What qualities should the ministers of war have? Which men should be a king’s courtiers and which ones his counselors?”
“The legislators should be modest, restrained men; they must be honest and sincere and have the courage of truth with them at all times. The ministers for war must be men who are close to the king, ever at his side. Most of all, they must be brave men and kshatriyas. They must be learned, too and their only fault should be their excessive love for their master. A courtier should be from the noblest lineage and the king must always treat him with honor. He, also, must be one who is always loyal, a man who never abandons his sovereign, whatever the circumstances.
The officers of the army must be from noble stock and born in the king’s own country. Let them be handsome, learned and powerful men, so they inspire loyalty and devotion in their soldiers. They must be of impeccable conduct and, above everything else, loyal.
As counselors a king must have four brahmanas, learned in the Vedas, all of them snatakas and dignified past reproach. He must have eight kshatriyas, strong men and proficient warriors. He must have twenty-one vaishyas, all wealthy, three sudras, pure, humble and intelligent and one suta. Remember that these counselors must all be above fifty years of age.
Among a king’s main tasks is to punish those that commit crimes in his land. The wealthy criminal should have his riches or property taken from him, while the poor criminal should be imprisoned. Corporal punishment may be used to check the more hardened law-breakers.
A good king levies taxes as a bee gathers pollen from flowers: gently, without injuring his people. He is like a tigress who grips her cubs firmly in her teeth, but never hurts them.”
Bheeshma imparts his treasure of wisdom to Yudhishtira over many days. There is much he shares that has not been recorded: for, at times, he speaks in secret. At dusk, the Pandavas go back to Hasti-napura and they return each morning with the sun.
Once, Yudhishtira asks, “Pitama, tell me again how a king should conduct himself.”
“Dharma must be his very life, for there is nothing greater than dharma in the world. Dharma makes one king better than another; and, with dharma, a king can conquer the earth. Remember his ministers must be men of dharma, as well, as pure as he is; and their truth should radiate, by word and by deed, throughout the land. Malice has no place in a king’s heart. His senses must be perfectly subdued. He must love his people as a father does his children and he should use his intelligence without passion. Then, his reign will be glorious and his greatness swell like a sea fed by a thousand rivers.”
Yudhishtira says, “The way of dharma is long, it is said to have a hundred branches. Which are the main duties to be followed?”
“First of all, the mother, the father and the guru must be worshipped and what they command must be obeyed without question. Serving his father helps a man cross the sea of samsara, serving his mother raises him up into Devaloka and serving the guru bestows the realm of Brahma on a sishya.”
“Tell me about dharma, artha and kama, Pitama. Which of them helps take one’s life in the right direction?”
“The three exist together; they are indivisible when a man creates artha, wealth, for himself, always treading the path of dharma. Wealth is rooted in virtue and kama, pleasure, is the fruit of wealth. All these come to be by the effort of a man’s will. In this world, there are objects created for the gratification of the senses and the acquisition of these is the will’s concern.
When a man is unattached to the objects of pleasure, he is liberated. One needs virtue, punya, to protect the body. One requires wealth to be virtuous. However, dharma, artha and kama must never be pursued just for themselves, but always as a means to knowledge: the knowledge of the Self. Virtue must be acquired not for pleasure, but to purify the soul. Wealth must be acquired so it can be spent with perfect relinquishment and pleasure must be pursued not to gratify the body but only to support it.
Thus, dharma, artha and kama are founded in the will and all three are necessary means to an end. The end is moksha, the final goal, the only one. As a man approaches moksha, he must abandon dharma, artha and kama by tapasya, ascetic penance.”