Why Ancient Chinese Political Thought Matters: Four Dialogues on China’s Past, Present, and Future

Daniel A. Bell’s entertaining introduction to ancient Chinese thinkers—and what they can teach us about today's most pressing political questions in China and beyond.

Princeton University Press is publishing Daniel A. Bell’s new book, Why Ancient Chinese Political Thought Matters. It is a great pleasure to recommend the book, presenting its official overview, praise, and introduction.

Bell, Professor and Chair of Political Theory with the Faculty of Law at the University of Hong Kong, is one of the best-known scholars writing in English on Chinese political philosophy. Previously, he served as dean of the School of Political Science and Public Administration at Shandong University (Qingdao) in China from 2017 to 2022, a rare role for a foreign scholar inside a major Chinese university.

His books include The Dean of Shandong (2023), Just Hierarchy (2020, with Wang Pei), The China Model (2015), The Spirit of Cities (2012, with Avner de-Shalit), China’s New Confucianism (2008), Beyond Liberal Democracy (2007), East Meets West (2000), and Communitarianism and Its Critics (1993).

He is founding editor of the Princeton-China series (Princeton University Press) which translates and publishes original and influential academic works from China. His works have been translated into 23 languages. He has been interviewed in English, Chinese, and French. In 2018, he was awarded the Huilin Prize and was honored as a “Cultural Leader” by the World Economic Forum.

Overview

China’s most original, diverse, and fascinating political debates took place more than two millennia ago, but they have profoundly shaped Chinese political thinking and practice ever since and, remarkably, their influence on the country’s leaders is only growing today. Yet these timeless debates—which are very likely to influence the answers to such questions as whether China should use military force to take control of Taiwan—are still far too little understood in the West. In this enlightening and entertaining book, Daniel Bell, a leading expert on Chinese political thought, takes the greatest thinkers from China’s past—Confucius, Mencius, Xunzi, Shang Yang, Han Feizi, Zhuangzi, and Mozi—and puts them in dialogue with each other in modern settings. The result is a creative and engaging introduction to ancient Chinese political thought that reveals its relevance to the future of China and the rest of the world.

Before China’s unification in 221 BCE, the brilliant political thinkers who founded Confucianism, Daoism, Legalism, and Mohism roamed from state to state, argued with each other, and tried to persuade rulers to follow their ideas. Bell draws on their debates—about such perennial issues as war, corruption, government involvement in family life, and whether the state should subsidize culture—to create vivid imaginative dialogues about important contemporary social and political controversies.

China’s political thinking is rooted in its past. Understanding what ancient Chinese political thought can teach us about today’s critical debates is essential to understanding the future of China and the world.

Praise

“For anyone, like me, who’s ever stared at a shelf of Chinese classics and thought ‘where do I even start?’—start here. Bell makes China’s ancient debates feel alive, witty, and politically urgent.”—Alexandre Lefebvre, author of Liberalism as a Way of Life

“Drinks are poured, jokes are exchanged, and the banquet is set. In this book, Daniel Bell invites us to eavesdrop on fascinating, candid, and witty discussions between imagined contemporary descendants of great Chinese philosophers. Their dialogue provides a dynamic understanding of key philosophical ideas in classical China that are as relevant to our lives as ever. This is serio ludere, or serious play, at its finest.”—Anna Sun, author of Confucianism as a World Religion

“Daniel Bell makes this deep dive into ancient Chinese political thought an easy and entertaining business. While the original Chinese texts themselves offer little by way of structure and context, by organizing them into a lively dialogue, Bell provides them with lucidity and coherence. Indeed, he furnishes these early thinkers with a stage on which to debate both their own theories and the contemporary issues that he would have them answer.”—Roger T. Ames, author of Living Chinese Philosophy

“Daniel Bell is one of the most innovative political theorists of the twenty-first century, transcending the boundaries of Western theoretical traditions and bridging cultural and intellectual traditions. In this ambitious and thought-provoking book, Bell creatively fills gaps in the understanding of Chinese political philosophy and underscores its enduring relevance. The dialogues bring complex philosophical debates to life and are brimming with wisdom and profound insight.”—Baogang He, coauthor of China’s Galaxy Empire

“Ancient political thought, exemplified by the classical Chinese perspectives in Bell’s luminary dialogues, matters because it grapples with questions about human society—loyalty, power, culture, and justice—that remain urgent for rethinking the political today.”—Shadi Bartsch, author of Plato Goes to China: The Greek Classics and Chinese Nationalism

“With a unique dialogue form that reflects how the Chinese tradition itself developed, this book opens creative avenues for engaging with some of the most urgent social and political issues in contemporary China.”—Paul J. D’Ambrosio, coauthor of Genuine Pretending: On the Philosophy of the Zhuangzi

Why Ancient Chinese Political Thought Matters: Four Dialogues on China’s Past, Present, and Future

Introduction

FOUR GREAT DEBATES OF CHINESE POLITICAL THOUGHT

CHINA’S POLITICAL thinking is rooted in its past. To understand Chinese politics, it is essential to understand the main themes of Chinese philosophy and history that serve as reference points for Chinese intellectuals and public officials in everyday conversation and political discourse. The political debates in the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods (ca. 770-221 BCE) were, arguably, the most original, profound and influential political debates in China’s history. China had not yet been unified by the Qin dynasty in 221 BCE, and political theorists and the ancient equivalent of policy advisers roamed from state to state, seeking to influence rulers. Notwithstanding constant warfare, thinkers were surprisingly free to argue about political controversies. The founding members of schools that came to be known as Confucianism, Legalism, Daoism, and Mohism engaged in heated arguments about politics and good government. These debates recurred in different forms over the next two millennia and we can expect further iterations in the future.

I do not mean to imply that good understanding of these debates is sufficient to comprehend contemporary Chinese politics. Of course, there were diverse and fascinating political debates in subsequent Chinese history, and more recent imported theories such as socialism and democracy also shape Chinese political thinking and policymaking. But those seeking deeper knowledge of Chinese politics need to have a solid understanding of political theories from the pre-Qin period because they still serve as important reference points for Chinese intellectuals and political officials today: as background assumptions and ideals for much political thinking and policy-making in the twentieth century when China was shaped by the tradition of antitraditionalism and more explicitly the past several decades along with the revival of China’s political traditions in academia and official political discourse.’

These ancient political debates are not well-known outside of China, and my book aims to remedy this gap of understanding. My aim is not to take sides in these debates but to be charitable and fair-minded to all sides and to familiarize readers with the most influential political thoughts and theories from ancient China using the words of the thinkers themselves.? For this purpose, I have written this book in dialogue form, and I draw mainly on the original thoughts and ideas of great political theorists from the pre-Qin period (in English translation). The dialogue form also has the advantage of showing the diversity of political thought in ancient China in an accessible and entertaining manner for the modern reader.

My book also aims to show that these ancient debates remain relevant today and for the foreseeable future. For this purpose, I have taken key strands of ancient political debates with lasting value—harmony versus freedom, law versus ritual, musical culture versus material welfare, and realism versus idealism in international relations—and apply them to policy questions of contemporary relevance. The debates are set in different parts of China in the near future, and the protagonists are (fictitious) descendants of the great political thinkers, which is not entirely implausible in a Chinese context because the descendants of Confucius and Mencius have family trees that extend to descendants in modern society who often take pride in the ideas of their ancestors. They argue about perennial political challenges such as whether moral obligations between family members need to be legally enforced, how to reduce corruption in government, whether the state should promote culture, and under what conditions the state should engage in warfare. The debates shed light not just on Chinese thinking but on political thinking more broadly: after all, what makes great thinkers great is that they proposed ideas that are relevant in different times and places and that can help us think about how to deal with modern-day political challenges.

The ancient Chinese works used for these dialogues were, of course, written in classical Chinese, and I rely on a mixture of my own translations and those by experts.’ I have checked most of the translations against the original sources and selected those that seemed both relatively accurate and fluent in modern English, with occasional modifications. * For the general reader, I have provided brief introductions to the thoughts of the political thinkers before launching into the dialogues. For the experts, the notes provide references to secondary sources and point to alternative interpretations of some passages discussed in the main text.

Each chapter can be read more or less independently, depending on the reader’s interests. The dialogues between descendants of the great thinkers are set in contemporary settings: the descendants are committed to the thoughts of their ancestors, but they illustrate arguments with examples from recent history. Hence, the dialogues should be viewed as writings inspired by the great thinkers rather than unmediated interpretations of the original texts. But I remain relatively faithful to the key ideas in the sections on particular thinkers, so if the reader wants to learn the thoughts of individual thinkers, it is best to focus on the sections in chapters that discuss their thoughts using mainly their original words (in translation): for example, section 1 in chapter 1 discusses the views of Confucius in detail, and section 2 discusses the views of Zhuangzi in detail (the sections where the thinkers act as critics and the concluding sections in each chapter owe more to my own thinking). But I’d suggest that individual chapters be read from start to finish because they make sense only as a whole, and I provide somewhat surprising speeches at the end of each chapter.’ Readers who want to have an overall sense of the thoughts of China’s most influential political theorists from the pre-Qin era that set the terms for much of the political thinking in subsequent Chinese history should read the whole book.

The book leads off with a dialogue between Kong and Zhuang, descendants of Confucius (Kongzi) and the great Daoist thinker Zhuangzi. Both the Confucian and the Daoist traditions have been hugely influential in Chinese history, but they tend to pull in different directions: the Confucians argue for the importance of nourishing harmonious and humane social relations and educating talented and virtuous public officials, whereas Daoists emphasize an easygoing lifestyle with minimal social attachments. Confucians value constant self-improvement, hard work, and social and political responsibility, whereas the Daoist emphasis on carefree wandering has inspired countless artists, social recluses, and those who seek freedom from social stresses. Kong and Zhuang meet in a bar on a remote island in Hong Kong and argue about whether obligations between adult family members should be legally enforced. Kong allows for the possibility that the law can set constraints on freedom in order to promote harmonious ties between family members in such cases as the promotion of filial piety and the right to divorce. Zhuang appears to be more skeptical, but he might have a sudden change of mind.

The second dialogue considers how to minimize corruption in government, one of the perennial challenges in Chinese history. A descendant of the influential political thinker Han Feizi, who systematized China’s Legalist tradition, argues that people cannot be motivated by moral concerns and that corruption can be curtailed only by means of harsh legal punishments that make public officials fearful of doing deeds that harm the state.

The punishments need to apply to all without any discretion or mercy. A descendant of the Confucian thinker Xunzi, who was Han Feizi’s teacher, agrees that people have a tendency to badness but argues that people can improve morally. If the aim is long-term reduction of corruption in government, only social rituals that make participants feel part of a community can succeed. Mr. Xun is not against legal punishments but argues they should be a last resort. The dialogue is heated and emotional, with the student seeming to call for the physical elimination of his teacher, but it ends with a banquet.

The third dialogue imagines a deliberative poll where ordinary citizens selected at random must decide whether the local community should fund a musical arts center. It takes place in a rural part of Shandong province rich in culture but poor in material resources. Mr. Mo, a descendant of Mozi, the founder of the Mohist school, argues that the community should spend scarce resources on supplying the material needs of the common people rather than funding musical arts. A descendant of the author of the Yueji (Record of Music) named Ms. Yue argues for funding the musical arts on the grounds that music is necessary for human flourishing. Music provides joy and forms the foundation for communal bonds that allow for policies that help the poor to be implemented without much resistance. The citizens deliberate at the end, but will their decision be respected by the powers that be?

The last dialogue is an acrimonious argument about the appropriate use of military power. I imagine a discussion between descendants of Mencius (Mengzi) and Shang Yang, a founder of the realpolitik Legalist school who is far more Machiavellian than Machiavelli himself. They argue over whether mainland China should invade Taiwan after it declares formal independence. Shang declares that an invasion should be carried out even if it involves cruel means, whereas Meng believes that war needs to be morally justified in terms of both cause and means, with the implication that Chinese rulers should be cautious about invading. The debate is carried out in the presence of the ruler, similar to ancient Chinese debates about war, and the chapter ends with a meeting of the Standing Committee of the Politburo where decision-makers discuss the possibility of invasion in view of the contrasting perspectives provided by the two thinkers.

The book ends with an Atogaki (afterword) explaining what’s wrong with this book. I freely acknowledge that my method will not be to everyone’s taste. Intellectual historians will fault me for plucking thinkers from their original context. Experts in Chinese philosophy may contest my interpretation of certain passages from classic texts. Normative theorists will object to the fact that I seek inspiration only from pre-Qin Chinese political thought. Some ideas of political theorists from ancient China that were meant to be deadly serious are discussed in a way that’s sometimes lighthearted, which may turn off those who think humor shows a lack of respect for the greats. Oh well, it’s hard to please everybody. But some students and scholars of China studies and comparative political theory as well as those who do not normally engage with Chinese politics and philosophy may enjoy this book. And if I’m lucky, a young intellectual rummaging in one of the world’s few remaining libraries with physical books in fifty years’ time will stumble upon this book and end up learning something about political debates from ancient China that may still be relevant for thinking about the challenges of the late twenty-first century.

The Dean of Shandong: Confessions of a Minor Bureaucrat at a Chinese University