Mahabharata: A Modern Retelling (73 page)

while engaged fully in the daily round.”

Yudhishthira asked about the four classes

in society, and about the four stages

through which a man may pass during his life.

Bhishma gave details of the many virtues

that all four orders should pursue in common.

He emphasized the close connectedness

between the different classes, how they depend

one on another; but how each has its own

distinct dharma laid down for its members;

and how the king must uphold the distinctions

and not permit the blurring of boundaries.

“As for a king,” said Bhishma, “his first duty

is to his subjects, caring for their welfare

like that of his children. If they are virtuous

the king shares in the merit of his people.

He must be generous, without self-seeking.

He should worship the gods with sacrifices,

but not officiate; recite the Vedas

but not teach them. He should defend the land

bravely against marauding enemies.

To this end, he must acquire wealth

and rule the kingdom on enlightened lines.

He must use wisdom in choosing ministers

and advisers. They must be honest, able

and sincere, but the king should never

trust them entirely, nor confide too much.

“The key to all this is authority:

the power to use the rod when necessary.

A king should never act with cruelty

but he must not hesitate to punish

wrongdoers, in proportion to their crime.

Without the use of proper punishment

the kingdom will become demoralized,

there will be mayhem, and the old and weak

will become the helpless victims of the strong

as, in nature, big fish gobble small ones.

The king protects against the law of fishes.

Judicious use of royal discipline

ensures that every subject knows their place

and knows the conduct suitable for them

within the scheme of things. But if the king

applies authority erratically,

and only partially ensures fair treatment,

then, correspondingly, there will develop

all manner of ills—famine, epidemics

and breakdown of the basic forms of life.

“A king’s strength derives from a well-trained army

which can protect the kingdom against attack,

and in turn can conquer other kingdoms.

In this way, wealth can be accumulated.

Conquest can be achieved by other means,

by cunning for example. He must send spies

into the territory of his enemy;

there they can use bribery, sow discord

and send key information back to him.

But constant vigilance is necessary

for the enemy can do the same to him!”

“What should be the personal qualities

of a good king?” asked Yudhishthira.

“A king should be the master of himself

before he seeks to impose his will on others.

More than this, there are many attributes

a king should cultivate—remember these:

He should do his duty without resentment.

He should be cheerful and affectionate.

He should pursue wealth without cruelty.

He should be brave without being boastful.

He should be generous, but not foolhardy.

He should not ally himself with evil men.

He should not engage in war against his kin.

He should not use dishonest men as spies.

He should avoid acting under duress.

He should not trust an irreligious man.

He should not betray confidences.

He should never kill a messenger.

He should not get angry without good reason.

He should work hard and conscientiously

and never be unmindful of the moment.

He should enjoy his pleasures moderately.

He should guard his wife, but without jealousy.

He should not act hypocritically.

He should not live too ostentatiously.

He should be thoughtful in everything he does.

“Whoever cultivates these kingly virtues

will be fortunate in this life and the next.”

“Grandfather,” Yudhishthira asked Bhishma,

“being a king is such a heavy burden,

so much responsibility. How can he

avoid being continually anxious?

With such opportunity for error,

how can he ever sleep at night?”

“My son,”

replied Bhishma, “you should surround yourself

with virtuous brahmins, and with ministers

who are the wisest and best-qualified

men you can find. In choosing them, be guided

not by personal preference or love,

still less by pressure to confer favors,

but rather by your own considered judgment

of their abilities and character.

They should be men whose interests coincide

with yours, men innocent of secret motives.

Be ready to suspect your ministers.

Beware of any person who would profit

either from your misfortune or your death.

“The brahmins you invite to live at court

must be learned in the Vedas, and devoted

to right action. Support them generously;

their prayers and wisdom will console you daily.

Surrounded by such men, anxiety

will be kept at bay. In particular,

your court priest will be a refuge for you.”

But Yudhishthira was once again

overwhelmed by doubt: “I have never yearned

to be king, not for a single minute!

I agreed because everyone around me

persuaded me it was the right decision.

But it seems that there is no ‘right’ in kingship.

It is impossible to be a king

without engaging in immoral actions.

I’ll have none of it! I renounce the throne

and the royal rod of force that goes with it.

I’ll go to the forest, live on roots and berries,

and live a life of prayer and meditation.”

“But you
are
a king, Yudhishthira,”

said Bhishma patiently. “If you retreat

to the woods, renounce the world, to follow

your own spiritual path, you will be

a king reneging on his kshatriya dharma,

behaving like a brahmin, or like someone

in the final phase of life. I know you value

gentleness, and shrink from the exercise

of forceful authority. But the fact is

nothing great has ever been achieved

by gentleness alone. Your forebears knew this,

they knew their duty was to protect their subjects,

and what they knew should be good enough for you.

The proper dharma of a king is action;

for a kshatriya, nothing is more evil

than inertia. Your parents’ greatest wish

was always for you to embrace your duty.”

“But is it never right,” asked Yudhishthira,

“for a person to follow the life path

of an order other than their own?

After all, some brahmins become warriors.”

“They do—but they are rarely right to do so,”

replied Bhishma. “It is the king’s duty

to correct brahmins who have veered away

from their proper calling—those, for instance,

who live as merchants or farmers. It may be

that they do so out of hardship. Then the king

should provide them with adequate support,

so they return to their appropriate dharma.

Brahmins who are ignorant of the Vedas,

and make their living in a different way,

should be taxed like other citizens.

“It is the role of brahmins and kshatriyas

to support one another. To that end

the two orders should remain distinct,

each pursuing its appropriate path.”

“That sounds straightforward,” said Yudhishthira.

“The Vedas tell us we should give to brahmins,

but where does giving end? It seems the scriptures

make no allowance for a king’s resources.

What about periods of scarcity?

The Vedas say, trust in the sacrifices

the brahmins carry out on our behalf.

But how can we trust, when all we can give

is scraps and scrapings from our empty coffers?”

“You should not have such disrespectful thoughts,”

said Bhishma, “nor should you insult the Vedas.

Gifts to brahmins are part of sacrifice;

you give what you can.”

“But aren’t those gifts

merely a transaction, a form of payment

for the merit the sacrifice produces?

Rather than such ritual sacrifice,

one’s body can be a sacrificial vessel

in ascetic practice. In my view

asceticism is better than sacrifice.”

“Listen to me, O learned one,” said Bhishma.

“Asceticism withers up the body—

what merit lies in that? True self-denial

consists in kindness, self-control, compassion,

truthfulness—wise people know that these

are true asceticism. Doubting the Vedas,

our timeless spiritual authority,

is to abandon any absolutes—

that way destruction lies. No more foolishness!”

Yudhishthira asked Bhishma every question

he could think of, relating to the duties

of a king. When his attention focused

on the particulars of governance

it seemed to steady him, and calm his doubts.

They discussed strategies for protecting

a great city, and how to make provision

for possible emergencies. “The city,”

said Bhishma, “should be strongly fortified,

and there should be capacious granaries

and other stores inside the city walls.

Life should be pleasant for all citizens,

with shady courtyards, fountains and broad streets.

The buildings should be gracious and strongly made,

the markets well supplied, and there should be

fairs, festivals and temples where the gods

can be honored. Treasury and armories

should be well stocked. Experts in every art

coming from far and near should be welcomed in.

The city is like a living organism

with different parts working in harmony.

The king should take a hand in everything,

be aware of every activity,

so no intrigue can flourish behind his back.

“The countryside that lies around the city

is its source of sustenance, and must be milked

as if it were a cow—but not so much

that it becomes exhausted. Country dwellers

must feel fairly treated, their lives secure

against marauders. As for paying tax,

which no one likes, the king should make it clear

that they are living under constant threat

of aggression by invading hordes

who will certainly lay waste to the land

and rape the women if not beaten back

by a strong army—for which tax is needed.

Tax is the king’s wealth, but if the burden

is felt to be oppressive and unjust,

rich cattle owners may migrate elsewhere.