Reconstructing the Confucian Dao

Zhu Xi's Appropriation of Zhou Dunyi

Joseph A. Adler

• Publisher: SUNY Press
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781438451589
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Asian Religions

Zhu Xi, the twelfth-century architect of the neo-Confucian canon, declared Zhou Dunyi to be the first true sage since Mencius. This was controversial, as many of Zhu Xi's contemporaries were critical of Zhou Dunyi's Daoist leanings, and other figures had clearly been more significant to the Song dynasty Confucian resurgence. Why was Zhou Dunyi accorded such importance? Joseph A. Adler finds that the earlier thinker provided an underpinning for Zhu Xi's religious practice. Zhou Dunyi's theory of the interpenetration of activity and stillness allowed Zhu Xi to proclaim that his own theory of mental and spiritual cultivation mirrored the fundamental principle immanent in the natural world. This book revives Zhu Xi as a religious thinker, challenging longstanding characterizations of him. Readers will appreciate the inclusion of complete translations of Zhou Dunyi's major texts, Zhu Xi's published commentaries, and other primary source material.

Part I

Introduction

The story of the early development of “Neo-Confucianism”—the revival of Confucianism in Song 宋 dynasty China (960–1279), after eight hundred years during which Buddhism and Daoism had dominated the religious landscape—has taken pretty much a standard form ever since the late twelfth century.¹ It begins with Zhou Dunyi 周敦頤 (1017–1073), who contributed three major items to the tradition: the Taiji Diagram (Taijitu 太極圖); a “Discussion of the Taiji Diagram” (Taijitu shuo 太極圖說, usually translated as “Explanation”); and a longer text called (in very loose translation) Penetrating the Scripture of Change (Tongshu 通書).² The “Discussion” is said to provide the cosmological basis of Neo-Confucian philosophy—cosmology in terms of qi 氣 (the “psycho-physical stuff” of which all things are composed), which has two modes of activity, yin 陰 (dark, moist, sinking, condensing) and yang 陽 (light, dry, rising, expanding).

The story continues with Zhou acting as tutor to his two nephews, Cheng Hao 程顥 (1032–1085) and Cheng Yi 程頤 (1033–1107), for about a year when they were teenagers. The Cheng brothers then grow up to form the nucleus of a group of Confucian thinkers in the city of Luoyang, in north-central China (Henan province). The Chengs and their many disciples come to be known as the Luo 洛 school—usually referred to in Western scholarship as the Cheng school. They become quite influential in philosophical circles and are actively involved in government, especially as part of the conservative opposition to the reformist prime minister, Wang Anshi 王安石 (1021–1086).

About twenty years after Cheng Yi dies, comes a catastrophe. The capital, Kaifeng, is captured by the Jurchen, a nomadic ethnic group from the northeast. The emperor is abducted. The remaining court flees to the south and establishes a new Song capital in Lin’an (modern Hangzhou), but the northern half of their former domain is now ruled by the Jurchen. (The dynastic era is thenceforth divided into two parts, the Northern Song [960–1127] and Southern Song, which was finally conquered by the Mongols in 1279.) Some of the Chengs’ disciples also move south and spread their teachings there. Zhu Xi 朱熹 (1130–1200), born three years after the loss of the north, studies with some third-generation Cheng disciples and eventually, after seriously flirting with Buddhism, becomes committed to their school of thought and spreads their teachings prolifically. He becomes even more influential than the Cheng brothers, and his teachings eventually dominate those of his competitors. He combines the ideas of the Chengs and their associates with his own, creating a new synthesis called Daoxue 道學 (Learning of the Way)—also called the “school of principle” (lixue 理學) or (preferably) the Cheng-Zhu school. While never without serious competition, this school dominates the later history of Chinese thought right up to the twentieth century, becoming in many people’s minds synonymous with “Neo-Confucianism.”

This “standard” history is recognized by scholars today as at best a partial view of the development of Confucian thought and practice in the Song dynasty, which was much more varied than the simplified story allows. At worst it is a reductionistic identification of “Neo-Confucianism” with the Cheng-Zhu school alone—perhaps admitting the Lu-Wang school as a counterpoint.³ It is no longer sufficient to limit the story to the Northern Song masters Zhou Dunyi, the Cheng brothers, Zhang Zai 張載 (1020–1077), Shao Yong 邵雍 (1012–1077),⁴ Zhu Xi, and Lu Jiuyuan 陸九淵 (commonly known as Lu Xiangshan 陸象山) in the Southern Song (1127–1279); and Wang Yangming 王陽明 in the Ming dynasty (1368–1644). We now know how important Zhu Xi’s correspondence with Zhang Shi 張栻 (1133–1180) was to the development of his thought; we know more about Zhu’s friend and sometime collaborator Lü Zuqian 呂祖謙 (1137–1181), and his rivals Chen Liang 陳亮 (1143–1194), Lu Jiuyuan, and Lu's brothers.⁵

We also know, although it is not widely acknowledged, that the placement of Zhou Dunyi at the head of the lineage of Song “sages” was entirely the invention of Zhu Xi.⁶ We also know how problematic that choice was for Zhu: Zhou Dunyi was widely regarded as having strong Daoist leanings, and Zhu Xi was vehemently opposed to Daoism, at least after the 1150s. Zhou’s Taiji Diagram, in fact, almost certainly was given to him by his Daoist friends, and this was well known in Zhu Xi’s time (although he denied it). The key terms in the “Discussion” of the diagram, written by Zhou himself, were largely or exclusively Daoist terms (taiji and wuji). And some of Zhu’s colleagues—notably the Lu brothers—objected strongly to Zhu’s elevation of Zhou to the position of first Confucian sage of the Song because of his Daoist connections. This dispute produced a rather bitter split between Zhu Xi and Lu Jiuyuan, who had previously been good friends.

All this raises the obvious question: Why did Zhu Xi declare Zhou Dunyi to be the first true Confucian sage since Mencius (Mengzi 孟子, 4th century BCE)? He could easily have followed the consensus of his colleagues that Cheng Hao had rediscovered the Confucian dao, as his younger brother, Cheng Yi, had first suggested. After all, the philosophy of the Cheng brothers was the core upon which Zhu Xi built his synthesis. It was they who made the concept of li (principle, pattern, order) central to what became the Cheng-Zhu school of Confucian thought.

The prevailing answer to this question is that it was Zhou Dunyi’s concept of taiji 太極 (usually translated as “Supreme Ultimate”) that enabled Zhu Xi to systematically link together the cosmological discourse centered on qi 氣 with the metaphysical discourse of the Cheng brothers, centered on li 理.⁷ This is therefore a philosophical solution to our problem. But taiji was also found in the Yijing 易經 (Scripture of Change)—one of the Confucian “Five Classics (Scriptures)”—in one of the appendices attributed to Confucius himself!⁸ In fact, this is the first occurrence of the term in extant Chinese literature, and its usage there closely parallels Zhou Dunyi’s usage of the term.⁹ So Zhu could easily have based his philosophical usage of taiji on that text, thereby avoiding the unpleasantness of Zhou Dunyi’s Daoist connections.

I have taken a different approach to the problem, looking not only at Zhu Xi’s philosophical system but also at his personal religious practice. We actually know quite a bit about this, because one of the well-known episodes in Zhu’s life was a “spiritual crisis” he experienced during his late thirties, which is well documented. What has not been remarked by any scholars, to my knowledge, is that immediately after resolving this crisis he turned to work on Zhou Dunyi’s writings, and his campaign to place Zhou at the head of the Cheng-Zhu lineage began at that time. This alone could, of course, be coincidence. But the possibility of coincidence is greatly diminished by the fact that the particular solution he found for his spiritual crisis—what I call the “interpenetration of mental activity and stillness”—is also found prominently in both of Zhou Dunyi’s major texts, the Taijitu shuo and the Tongshu. And Zhu Xi foregrounds this idea whenever he discusses taiji (see chapter 4).

Demonstrating how Zhu Xi’s religious praxis conditioned his philosophical system throws new light on both his methodology of self-cultivation and the linchpin of his philosophy, the concept of taiji. In particular, it means that taiji should not be translated as “Supreme Ultimate” but as “Supreme Polarity” (chapter 4). Since Zhu equated taiji with the central concept of li, and since Zhu exerted enormous influence on the past eight hundred years of Chinese thought—including both his followers and his critics—the significance of this reinterpretation should not be underestimated.

Deconstructing the traditional story of the Northern Song revival, a story wholly constructed by Zhu Xi, reminds us of the variety of ways in which a religious-philosophical tradition can redefine itself. First, the Song revival and reconstruction of Confucianism has long been understood as a response to the challenge of Buddhism, which was extremely popular among Song litera...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• PART I
• PART II: Translations of Zhou Dunyi’s Major Works and Zhu Xi’s Commentaries, with Further Discussions by Zhu Xi and His Students
• Bibliography
• Index
• Back Cover