Mr. Zhong Wen has long been a senior figure for whom I hold the deepest respect. I once wrote in praise of him: though in his nineties, he continues to write tirelessly; his convictions grow ever firmer; his manner is modest and sincere—truly a model for younger generations.

Recently, Elder Zhong invited me to write a preface for his new book Confucius. I was born later and my learning is shallow, so with some trepidation I spoke frankly to him: I have always held a critical view of traditional Chinese culture, and am particularly unsympathetic toward Confucianism. Writing a preface under such circumstances might well run counter to the author’s original intent. However, Elder Zhong believed that differing viewpoints could offer fresh perspectives and were very much welcome. Thus encouraged, I could only say a few words—fully aware that I might be guilty of “adding a dog’s tail to a sable,” a self-mockery already acknowledged in the title.

A careful reading of the new book reveals that it does not merely introduce the two historical figures Confucius and Laozi. The text covers a wide range of figures and doctrines, beginning with Pangu creating heaven and earth and extending all the way to modern scholars. Privately, I feel that a title such as A Brief Survey of Traditional Chinese Political and Philosophical Culture might be more appropriate. Nevertheless, since Confucianism remains the main thread, it seems to me that Elder Zhong is in fact attempting to portray Confucianism as “the core of Chinese civilization.”

It is quite evident that Elder Zhong holds Confucian culture in the highest esteem, believing it to be the very core of Chinese civilization. One can also see that, like most Chinese intellectuals, he has been deeply influenced by the British historian Arnold Toynbee (1889–1975). Toynbee once said: “The twenty-first century will be the century of the Chinese people; Confucius and Mahayana Buddhism will lead humanity out of confusion and suffering and onto a broad road of peace and well-being.” This statement greatly satisfied the self-esteem and inner expectations of many Chinese scholars, leading them to conclude that Confucianism, combined with Buddhism, could guide the world. And now, indeed, we are in the twenty-first century.

Scholars have long delighted in such “discoveries.” They point out, for example, that Confucius appears among the sculptures in the United States Capitol. They also continue to excavate ideas and theories within Confucian thought that seem to correspond to the needs of various value systems, in order to demonstrate the greatness of this culture.

I find this entirely understandable. After all, during more than two thousand years of “banishing the hundred schools and honoring Confucianism alone,” China produced only one great sage—Confucius. For 118 generations, our ancestors lived under his aura, with no figure surpassing him. One might say that Confucian rules have been implanted into the Chinese genetic code; even foreign conquerors were ultimately transformed by Confucianism. When I traveled in China, I saw many Confucian cultural relics rebuilt during the Qing dynasty—an awe-inspiring sight.

In 2014, I attended a forum at the Department of Philosophy at Peking University, where the keynote speaker was the department chair. The topic sounded very contemporary: Ordinary People and a Great Era. I assumed it would convey modern ideas, but the entire lecture was framed in Confucian terms. Using Confucian doctrine to narrate the great era of the twenty-first century felt awkward throughout. But since this was what he had studied since childhood, he knew nothing else. It left me with a wry smile.

The renowned scholars mentioned in this book can basically all be regarded as Confucians, which is why they are included. They are extraordinarily intelligent, outstanding among their peers, yet from a young age they were immersed in this culture. So apart from promoting the Confucian doctrine that Toynbee claimed could lead the twenty-first-century world out of suffering, what else could Chinese scholars possibly recommend?

Yet I often ponder one question: according to Toynbee, if Confucianism is so great that it can guide humanity out of suffering in the twenty-first century, why has the land of its birth remained mired in suffering and ignorance for more than two thousand years, unable to emerge from darkness even to this day?

I am told that this is because Confucian thought was damaged and now needs to be restored and reimplemented. But in fact, most Chinese cultural elites now scattered around the world are still deeply embedded in Confucian culture. Historically, even foreign rulers such as the Qing dynasty were influenced by Confucianism; its transmission has been clearer and more continuous than that of almost any other culture. Where, then, was it destroyed? Of course, the Chinese Communist Party—an extremely evil, anti-human regime—does not count here. But if a doctrine can be destroyed by just seventy years of CCP rule, what qualification does it have to lead the world out of suffering?

I have long believed that the emergence and persistence of the CCP are themselves closely related to China’s millennia-old cultural tradition, especially Confucianism. Many of Mao Zedong’s evil ideas derived to a great extent from his intensive reading of classical Chinese works such as The Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Governance. And Sima Guang himself was an ardent admirer of the Zuo Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals. During the Qing dynasty, Emperor Qianlong sponsored the compilation of the Complete Library of the Four Branches of Literature, which enshrined Neo-Confucianism of the Cheng–Zhu school—clear evidence of Confucianism’s compatibility with authoritarian rule. The millennia-old Chinese culture now treated as a treasure—what has it actually brought to this country?

As for Buddhism in China, whether Mahayana or Theravada, has it ever truly led the nation or the people out of suffering? The answer has long been evident.

Looking at China today, Buddhism has not changed China; on the contrary, it has become a morally corrupt profit-seeking institution. Looking around the world, has anyone seen a Buddhist country that is prosperous, powerful, and highly civilized enough to lead the world?

Thus, the words spoken by Toynbee in Britain more than a century ago are, in fact, no different from the various prophecies circulating on Twitter today—they should not be taken too seriously.

If a doctrine that has existed for two thousand years has failed to bring civilizational progress to its homeland, and has instead been used as a tool of authoritarian rule, then no matter how brilliantly it is packaged, it can only be regarded as a historical doctrine. We can also find many splendid-sounding phrases in the mouths of Mao Zedong and Adolf Hitler—should we inherit those as well?

Some argue that if one rejects traditional culture, then what can Chinese civilization rely on for continuity? In fact, the lifestyle of contemporary Chinese people has already provided the answer. China’s hospitals, schools, automobiles, trains, airplanes, computers, mobile phones, and the internet—all of these are not inherited from traditional Chinese culture but are directly adopted from Western civilization. In other words, traditional Chinese ways of life have been abandoned. This demonstrates that Chinese people have, in practice, already acknowledged the superiority of Western civilization over traditional Chinese civilization. However, because of the CCP’s evil authoritarian rule, the highly civilized cultural ideals and value systems that accompanied Western civilization have been kept outside the door.

Whether Roman culture, Greek culture, or the later Renaissance and Enlightenment, humanity has already developed a mature, effective cultural value system that brings real benefits to human society. The world’s wealthiest and most civilized social systems and nations are all beneficiaries of this value system—including the United States and the entire Western world.

Why, then, can we accept removing long gowns, cutting off queues, putting on suits, entering the internet age, and adopting Western modern lifestyles, but refuse to accept a proven superior cultural value system? Why instead dig a thoroughly failed zombie culture out of the grave?

I have deliberately not yet mentioned Laozi. I have read the Dao De Jing, which is indeed a remarkable and profound philosophical work. However, it does not align with China’s long history of authoritarian rule and was therefore marginalized. In contrast, it has been highly esteemed in the West. The American philosopher Will Durant (1885–1981), a contemporary of Toynbee, even said that with the Dao De Jing, all other books could be burned, and one need only seek wisdom there. This statement is somewhat extreme; even when made by a famous Westerner, it can only be taken as a personal opinion, worth hearing but not accepting wholesale.

The greatest problem with the Dao De Jing is that it consists of short sentences and extensive metaphors, making it difficult for ordinary readers to grasp directly. Classical Chinese requires translation, and translation has no single correct answer. Thus, in reality, every reader—past and present, Chinese or foreign—reads either a translated interpretation or their own subjective understanding. The Dao De Jing is a great philosophical work, but unlike The Spirit of the Laws, The Republic, or The Social Contract, it is not immediately clear nor readily applicable in practice. It is therefore destined to exist only as a great work of Eastern philosophy.

This piece was written at another’s request; my views are shallow and simply express my candid thoughts. Any assessment of such profound cultural issues is inevitably superficial. Fortunately, I have already labeled this as “adding a dog’s tail to a sable”—a narrow personal view. I ask the reader’s indulgence for its crudeness.

January 21, 2024
New England, United States