Mahabharata: A Modern Retelling (74 page)

A wise king encourages the wealthy

since their wealth will benefit the kingdom.

It is impossible to treat all alike.

The king should cultivate the powerful

and ensure the compliance of the rest.

But the rich should not despise the poor,

nor must the strong take advantage of the weak.

“The kingdom must be run on moral lines.

Taverns and whorehouses should be suppressed,

and begging banned, except in times of famine.

Robbery should not be tolerated.

“A king should be impartial—never swayed

by prejudice. Always observing dharma,

he should live soberly, and shun excess,

arrogance, falsehood and anger. Women,

except his wives, are to be avoided.

He should make certain that intermarriage

between one social class and another

does not muddy the waters of his kingdom;

that will be the best way to ensure

dutiful conduct within the family.”

They talked at length about war: how to tell

right from wrong action, how to discriminate

between appropriately war-like acts

and dishonorable trickery.

“I hate kshatriya war,” said Yudhishthira,

“so many lives are lost by it—for what?”

“War can bring prosperity,” said Bhishma,

“as well as rewards in the afterlife.

A kshatriya is born for the battlefield.

Suppose he goes to war to defend brahmins—

a worthy cause, a response to evildoing—

there could be no more glorious sight on earth

than a brave warrior offering his body

as sacrifice, his bright blood flowing freely

over his limbs. The gods rejoice to see it.

And when that kshatriya dies, washed clean of guilt,

in the fullest flower of his manhood,

he heads for heavenly bliss. It is most shaming

for warriors to meet death in their beds,

coughing feebly, moaning and shivering.

“Nevertheless, a king should avoid rashness.

If a stronger kingdom threatens his,

he should bide his time, not start a battle

he is bound to lose. He should be like

the reeds that grow beside a swollen river

which, bending flat with the powerful current,

only stand up when the time is right.

“But a flourishing kingdom does not spring

from war alone. A king should first secure

his base at home, by good governance.

A strong base comes from contented subjects

in both the city and the countryside.

The people should be plump and prosperous,

the army in good heart, and those at court

busy and purposeful. This comes about

when the king is mindful of right action,

when he is solicitous for his subjects,

is moderate, generous and energetic.

Of life’s three goals—merit, wealth and pleasure—

pleasure should come last for him. His people

will see how he works hard on their behalf

and will love and honor him.

“Only then,

when all is well at home, should the king think

of reaching for the wealth of other kingdoms

by well-planned attack. He should invite them

to submit to his authority,

promising that he will rule them fairly.

If they are reluctant, he should seek

to offer payments and conciliate.

Only if they refuse should he make war,

and then using the least possible force,

with due respect for the rules of chivalry.

Having conquered, he should pay attention

to winning hearts and minds in his new lands

through gifts and friendly speeches. Punishment

should not be used on men whose sole offense

is having fought against him. Treated well,

his new subjects may not feel inclined

to forge alliances with his enemies.

“But do not discount humiliation.

To be defeated is a bitter thing

for a proud people; memory is long

and there will always be brave young hotheads

who wish to have revenge, and prove themselves.

So the king must always be vigilant

against conspiracy, and train his spies

to be his eyes and ears.”

“Revered Grandfather,”

said Yudhishthira, “explain to me

how republics work. Without a king,

why do they not split apart?”

“Quite often

they do,” said Bhishma, “when they have become

demoralized by greed and selfishness.

A republic’s strength lies in the way

an individual’s effort is amplified

by being joined to that of the whole group.

When collective loyalty is uppermost

in people’s minds, when scrupulous attention

is paid to justice, fairly administered

by the wisest men, so corrupt influence

does not take hold, well, then a republic

will flourish. But when conflicting interests

are not resolved, then fissures will appear

and the weakened polity will fall victim

to the predations of its enemies.”

“How very many points,” sighed Yudhishthira,

“have to be borne in mind by any person

who sincerely seeks a virtuous life!

Is there one precept, above all the others,

one should not forget?”

“In my view,” said Bhishma,

“nothing is more important than honoring

one’s parents and one’s teachers; they should always

be obeyed and treated with deference.

Mother, father, teacher—they are the three worlds,

the three sacrificial fires. Their needs

should never be neglected. There is no one

in the world more wicked than a person

who harms any of these, by word or deed.

Of these, the teacher is the most important.

The two parents create the child’s body

which grows, strengthens, withers and grows old.

But one is born again through the instruction

the teacher offers. That teaching is divine,

timeless, and never decays with age.”

Yudhishthira was struggling with confusion.

Though Bhishma talked of honoring one’s parents

above all others, the Dharma King remained

angered and shocked by what Kunti had done

in covering up the truth of Karna’s birth.

“How can a man go on?” he cried to Bhishma.

“I want to live virtuously, but how to tell

right from wrong, when truth and falsehood seem

so intertwined? What
is
truth, what is falsehood?

And should one always speak the truth, regardless?”

“There is nothing higher than truth,” said Bhishma.

“But sometimes truth is false, and falsehood true.

A simple person clings to the literal;

wisdom brings deeper discrimination.

The law on what is right is intended

for the good of creatures, avoiding harm.

So, on occasion, lying may be right—

think of simple-minded Kaushika.

“There are many circumstances when the truth

may not be what it seems, and nor may lying.

Someone who witholds the truth, while not

directly lying, is committing falsehood.

Someone who lives by dishonesty

is a liar, and should certainly be punished.

But one who lies in order to support

a virtuous outcome is acting as they should.

And one who kills a hypocrite acts rightly

since, in fact, that sinner is already

killed by their own behavior. Remember too—

to act toward a person in the way

that they themselves have acted is to choose

right conduct.

“You look downcast, Yudhishthira.

All you can do is live as best you can—

do your duty as you understand it,

enjoy your pleasures, but in moderation,

worship the gods, and devote yourself

to Narayana above all others.”

“But tell me, Grandfather,” cried Yudhishthira,

“how can a king possibly be happy?”

“He must cultivate his higher faculties,”

replied Bhishma, “and act with energy,

never opt merely for an easy life.

Let me tell you the story of the camel.

“
L
ONG AGO
, in a previous age, there lived a camel. He was a great ascetic and scrupulously obeyed his vows. Lord Brahma was pleased with him, and granted him a wish. ‘Blessed one,’ said the camel, ‘I would like a neck so long that I could graze all around without having to move from place to place.’ Brahma granted his wish, and life was then so easy for the camel that he became lazier and lazier and hardly stirred himself at all. One day, during a violent storm, rather than looking for proper shelter, he poked his head into a nearby cave to keep it dry, and his head got stuck. A jackal who had taken shelter in the cave started to eat the camel’s neck. Try as he might, the camel could not escape, and that was the end of him. The story teaches us two lessons: do not become lazy; and—be careful what you wish for!”

“I worry about how to choose officials

and retainers,” said Yudhishthira.

“A king cannot rule by himself, that’s certain,

so what qualities should I be looking for

in my staff? What background should they come from?

I understand what you said earlier—

the king should not be swayed by favoritism—

but how can I be sure to make wise choices,

of people I can trust?”

Bhishma replied,

“You should choose men from good families

who observe dharma, and who are rich enough

not to be corrupted. They should be

well educated and intelligent,

good at analyzing situations,

and astute at understanding people

and relationships. They should be capable

of planning ahead, practical, far-sighted

and meticulous in all their dealings.

“The most important guiding principle

is that they should be well qualified

for the posts they occupy. They should not be

promoted inappropriately. On this point

a story comes to mind:

“
I
N A REMOTE FOREST
lived a seer, practicing extreme austerities and living on roots and berries. The animals of the forest regarded him as their friend and they would visit him to pass the time of day. One animal stayed with the seer all the time—a lanky dog, who ate the same food as his master and was calm and devoted.

“One day, a hungry leopard came that way, a large and cruel beast, and it stalked the dog with a view to eating him.

“‘Help me, blessed one,’ cried the dog to the seer, ‘a leopard wants to eat me, please rescue me.’

“‘Don’t worry,’ said the seer, and he turned the dog into a golden leopard. The dog-leopard was delighted, and cavorted around in the forest without fear.

“Then a hungry tiger saw the dog-leopard and thought he would make an excellent meal. The affectionate seer turned the dog-leopard into a tiger. The dog-tiger was delighted. But, now he was a tiger, he had no taste for roots and berries, and regularly preyed on the smaller animals in the forest.

“One day, the dog-tiger was sleeping off a large meal when he was woken by a shadow falling across his face. A gigantic elephant in rut was looming over him, about to attack. Once again, the seer rescued him, turning him into an elephant so large that his rival trundled off between the trees, grumbling. The dog-elephant was delighted to be an elephant, and joyfully plundered the lotus ponds and groves of frankincense.

“Another time, the seer rescued him from a lion by turning him into a lion fiercer than any other. The dog-lion was delighted to be a lion. But the gentler animals which previously had visited the seer were now too nervous to approach.

“You might think that no creature could frighten the dog-lion now. But one day an eight-legged sharabha, a horrific beast, approached the dog-lion. Again, the seer rescued him by turning him into an even fiercer monster of the same kind. The dog-sharabha was delighted to be a sharabha, and preyed on every kind of creature, so that all other animals and birds fled from that part of the forest, and the air was silent. Food became scarce, and one day, the dog-sharabha’s lust for meat was such that his thoughts turned to attacking and eating the seer, his benefactor. But the holy man perceived this with his inner eye, and said to the dog-sharabha, ‘Because of my affection for you, I changed you into fiercer and fiercer creatures. But now you want to attack me, ungrateful one! For this, you must return to your true nature.’

“The dog-sharabha, who had become so corrupted by advancement that he eventually wanted to turn on his benefactor, became a dog again. And the seer expelled him from the forest.

“Bear this tale in mind, Yudhishthira,

when you are choosing men as your officials.

Never appoint them to a post beyond

their natural station and capacities.”

“Grandfather, what should be a king’s public face?”

“The king is first and foremost a protector,

as I have said before,” answered Bhishma.

“How should he go about it? He should learn

from the peacock’s example. The peacock’s tail

has very many colors. In the same way

the king should have a repertoire of styles

at his disposal. Sometimes he will be stern,

sometimes devious, brave, compassionate,

and so on—drawing on these various modes

at will, according to the circumstances.

Master of moods, effecting subtle changes,

he will manage even difficult matters.

“Just as a peacock is silent in autumn

the king will guard his intentions to himself.

He will keep his balance on slippery ground

as the peacock does at the edge of waterfalls;

and as the peacock relies on the blessed rain,

the king depends on blessings from the brahmins.

“As the peacock sports in the lush forest

and dances for its mate, so at night,

in private, the king’s wives and concubines

will take pleasure in his virility.

“The king should gather wisdom where he can

as the peacock snatches tasty flying insects.

Just as a peacock frequents shadowy places,

the king should make alliances in secret,

taking care not to display his weaknesses.

Like the peacock, he should steer clear of snares.

His eyes should be as wary as a peacock’s

when it looks out for poisonous snakes, and kills them.

“The king should be alert to all that happens

within his realm, moving among his people

as a peacock flies from one tree to another.

And, as a peacock cleans itself of vermin,

the king should shed attachments by performing

selfless deeds. Last, as the brilliant colors

and splendid outline of the peacock’s tail

inspire the gorgeous flowers of the forest

to put forth their best blooms, so the king,

by dint of his exemplary behavior,

teaches his subjects to live virtuous lives.”

“Now I wish to know,” said Yudhishthira,

“about the kingly rod of force, the
danda
.

You have often talked of its importance;

I am convinced that it is necessary.

But what form does it take? Does it mean

more than a suitably severe response

to acts of wickedness?”

Bhishma replied,

“The rod of force has many embodiments.

In concrete form, every single weapon

can exemplify it. More symbolically,

it is Lord Vishnu himself, and the goddess

Lakshmi, Brahma’s daughter, and Sarasvati . . .

indeed, the rod of force takes many forms,

divine, mortal, public, private—too many

to list them all.

“It is the origin

of the three fundamentals of a good life:

merit, wealth and enjoyment. It underlies

judicial process, whereby a wrongdoer

is fairly tried and punished equitably.

In a peaceful kingdom, there may seem no need

for correction. People live in harmony

with their fellows. But if the rod of force