We Are Not Alone
Seeing Our Present and Future in the Past
The Duties of the Intellect
As an educator, scholar, writer, and translator, I thought of the duties of the intellect a rather big issue all the time. Before 2020, I had reached an agreement with myself that the duties for me as an intellect and a mom of three kids were to teach with passion and write with insight. I traveled around the world to give public talks, I engaged myself with my students, and I enjoyed chatting with my colleagues. Life was quite decent.
Then COVID came during the year of election, which changed everything, including how I view this old topic, the duties of the intellect. When we are stuck inside home, some people have to go out to work, and they were called essential workers. Soon I found out that most of the essential workers were students, they deliver packages, serve food, and work at front desks. One female Latino student decided to work for Costco in April saying “I am young, if I did not go out to work and be an essential worker, who will?” Then I realized how privileged we are that we can work from home. Think of the people who cannot? Why not? Why them? Then one African American male student told me that he was pulled over by the police three times since COVID for nothing. One Chinese American student went out to a grocery store. At entrance line, a lady in front of him and a man behind him both yelled at him, “Get away from me.” Also, my 8-year-old son was very good at acting, I told him practice acting and become an actor. He said, “Mom, I won’t succeed.” “Why? Who said that? How could you know?” His reply broke my heart, “Mom, I am not white.”
The confusion, pain, anxiety, and hopeless, all of sudden, washed over me, at both societal and personal level. I looked for help from history and literature. In March, when my school and my kids’ schools turned into remote learning, I picked up The Tales of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. I read the first page and cried:
It was the best of times,
it was the worst of times,
it was the age of wisdom,
it was the age of foolishness,
it was the epoch of belief,
it was the epoch of incredulity,
it was the season of Light,
it was the season of Darkness,
it was the spring of hope,
it was the winter of despair.
We had everything before us, we had nothing before us.
We were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way
– in short,
the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
What Dickens taught me is that we are not alone. We cannot be alone. We are not the first generation experiencing any strong emotions, neither are we the first group to experience a pandemic. I continued my journey to seek inspiration, and I found out about the third century, an amazing but tragic time.
Throughout thousands of years of Chinese history, there were three major population drops, the first one happened during the third century, from 57 million people during the Eastern Han Dynasty (206 B.C.E.-9 C.E.) to nearly 50 million during the Western Han (25-220) to less than 10 million during The Three Kingdoms (220-265). If we search the word “pandemic” (yì 疫) to survey the official histories of the three eras, it is strikingly clear that pandemics were the cause of the decreasing population. During the 215 years of the Eastern Han Dynasty, yì appeared 31 times; during the 195 years of the Western Han Dynasty, yì appeared 74 times; during the 45 years of The Three Kingdoms, yì appeared 38 times. Pandemics happened more and more frequently, from once every seven years to once every 2 or 3 years to almost once a year. Considering the fluctuation of the numbers we have, it is safe to say that the third century pandemics wiped out two thirds of the population.
How did people react to the deadly disease? To the hopeless situation? How did they feel about the dying, the dead, and their own life? What did they do?
Cao Zhi (192-232), a prince of Wei and an accomplished poet in his time, wrote an essay on pandemic:
In the twenty-second year of the Jian’an era (218), a pestilential humor prevailed. Every household suffered from the pain of death; from every chamber there came the sound of wailing. In some cases, entire families passed away; in other cases, whole clans were wiped out. Some people believed that the plague was caused by ghosts and deities. All of those who were stricken by the epidemic were, however, people wearing coarse clothes, eating bean leaves, and living in humble dwellings of brambles and reeds. As for families residing in great mansions and dining from arrayed tripods, dressed in sable coats and sitting on layered mats, they were rarely affected. The plague occurred because the yin and yang were displaced, and the cold and hot seasons were out of joint. And yet ignorant folk hung talismans in an effort to expel it --that was quite ridiculous.[1]
The situation Cao Zhi experienced was horrifying and deadly, as a pandemic took some entire families or clans. He mistakenly thought that only poor people who cannot eat well and dwell will die. When COVID first broke out in China, many western presses thought it only happened on Chinese people or other races. Later, the western people thought it only happened to the people of colors or seniors. Cao Zhi was wrong, so did many people of our time. Pandemic infects any human being, regardless of race, gender, and age.
For COVID, many people believed and still believe in all kinds of conspiracies, as they try to understand this germ. Cao Zhi regarded the pandemic as nature out of balance. I think Cao Zhi, who lived two-thousand years ago, was right in the sense of environment. As David Quamman explained in his book Spillover: Animal Infections and The Next Human Pandemic published in 2012, that many diseases originated in wild animals before being passed to human. We invaded the nature, and the nature revenges with germs.
Another positive thing we can learn from Cao Zhi’s writing is that facing the deadly disease, the third century Chinese did not blame or attack any minorities or their fellows, rather they blamed ghosts and deities. Third century witnessed the first wave of globalization, so Chinese people encountered many others from Central Asia or beyond who lived in many other parts of China. Those others were not attacked or associated with the deadly germ. In 2020 in the USA, the Chinese became scapegoats, and faced serious occasions of being beaten, verbally or physically. This was again not the first-time that certain minority was targeted, blamed or attacked. During the Black Death, Jews were burned. We have to think harder about the duties of the intellect: what should we do to avoid the blind hatred in this culture?
Cao Zhi’s older brother Cao Pi (ca. 187-226) soon realized that the pandemic can infect everyone, including himself, the Emperor Wen of Wei (r.220-226). On March 17, 218, Cao Pi wrote a letter to Wu Zhi (177-230) who later assisted in found the new dynasty:
Many relatives and old friends were stricken by last year’s epidemic. Xu, Chen, Ying, and Liu passed away all at once. How could I speak of the pain![2]
Xu Gan, Chen Lin, Ying Yang, and Liu Zhen were four royal followers of Cao Pi, four active members in his political and literary circle. All of them died because of the pandemic in 217.
Cao Pi, the emperor, was deeply affected. He wrote a letter to Wang Lang, Chamberlain for Law Enforcement, whom he had always respected:
Alive, a man has a body of seven chi; dead, he becomes a coffinful of dirt. Only by establishing virtue and spreading fame does he not decay; the next best thing is to write books. Epidemics frequently strike; members of the gentry wither and fall. Who am I that I alone could hope to live out my natural lifespan?[3]
Cao Pi not only realized that pandemic was not biased, that means he could die of it as well; but also, deeply worried about the question we worry: considering we can die, theoretically sooner due to a natural disaster, what can we do? As the intellect? As the educated? He found the solution: Writing!
Fighting decay, physically and spiritually, with writing was an old idea. About five centuries before Cao Pi’s time, tere was a discussion about immortality, which was called “Three Things that Do Not Decay” (sān bù xiǔ 三不朽), and they were “virtue,” “deeds,” and “words.”[4] Either you establish high moral standards and being a moral model such as Confucius; or you contribute military success like founding figures; or you write. You will perish and leave the world, but your words will carry on your thoughts and live on forever.
As a scholar and writer, thankfully, writing is what I do! This sense of urgency for writings somehow comforts me, as I know writing once was so much valued by the one with ultimate power.
Cao Pi was not just saying it, he did it:
… Thereupon he (Cao Pi) composed his Normative Discourses as well as his poems and rhapsodies, which amounted to over one hundred pieces. He gathered various scholars within the Sucheng Gate and tirelessly discussed with them the general import [of his writings].[5]
He composed, he encouraged his followers to compose, and he even equalized writing to state affairs. Not surprisingly, his time was considered the “literary awakening period.”
Because of COVID, I want to write more! On what though? We cannot pretend nothing happened, we cannot resume our life as if COVID never came, even after when we can go back to the so called “normal.” COVID posts a death threat upon us, more importantly it accelerates many social conflicts and inequalities that we have to face and solve. Facing my students who struggle in a pandemic, hearing unjust accidents, thinking of our coming generations, I gain the urge to keep seeking inspiration and solutions.
There will be a conflict if there are two or more people. There will be a conflict between two species, such as human being and COVID this time. How do we solve the conflict? Confucius answered it with “benevolence” (ren 仁). The word is consisting of two parts, human radical on the left and number 2 on the right, which means being kind to others is the best way to solve conflicts. Can we use unkind ways to solve disputes? Maybe, but we can only solve the problem temporarily, but not provide a constructive and ever-lasting way to sustain a peaceful society.
Mencius (372-289 B.C.E.), a Confucian philosopher, elaborated the Ren or benevolence further:
Treat your elders as elders, and extend it to the elders of others;
treat your young ones as young ones, and extend it to the young ones of others;
then you can turn the whole world in the palm of your hand.[6]
Being benevolent or kind means to respect all elders and take care of all youth. We don't need ambition to control the world, but we desperately need to control COVID and any discrimination against people who need help!
Are we kind? Is our culture kind? Does our culture allow us to be kind? Does our society support us to be kind? How do we build a kind and caring society? Can we, the educated, use words, one of three immortalities, to promote a caring society? If not us, then who?
In the spring of this pandemic year, BBC released a documentary on Du Fu (712-770) titled China’s Greatest Poet. Why is Du Fu the greatest? He is special not because he is talented, since there are millions of talented poets in Chinese history. He stands out because he cared, and he used his poetic and writing talents to express his cares. He was the only poet called “Poet Historian” in Chinese history.
Spring Scene
Du Fu
In
fallen states, hills and streams are still there;
The city is in Spring, grass and leaves abound.
There are tears on the flowers, who feel the times;
Birds startle my heart, they too hate partings.
The beacon fires have been linked for three months,
A letter from home is worth a thousand pounds.
My grey hairs are scratched even shorter,
Soon it will not be enough to hold my cap.
This pome was composed in March 757, nine months after An Lushan, a half Chinese and half Sogodian, rebelled; and seven months after Du Fu was captured by the rebels. He felt sorrowful, missing his family, as “a letter from home is worth a thousand pounds.” Before COVID, I went back to China with my kids once a year, sometimes I started to take it for granted, and thought it was not a big deal, and sometimes I thought that I did not want to go back to China for a while. But now I miss these days that we can freely travel, and my mom can freely visit us. This separation with uncertainty about the future is really painful.
Du Fu expressed personal sorrow, but also showed his sympathy over the destructed states and miserable people caused by the political disaster. At his later life, Du Fu and his family settled in a thatched hut in modern Chengdu, Sichuan, China. One day the roof of the thatch was first blown off by winds and then stolen by boys. Without warm clothes and a dry place to live, he worried about the soaking of the long night. His personal worries somehow urged him to worry about common people, even more:
If only I could get a great mansion of a million rooms,
broadly covering the poor scholars of all the world,
all with joyous expressions,
unshaken by storms,
as stable as a mountain.
Alas, when will I see such a roof looming before my eyes?
then I would think it all right
if my cottage alone were ruined
and I suffered death by freezing.[7]
Du Fun, “A Song on How My Thatched Roof Was Ruined by the Autumn Wind”
This worrying and caring sense among the learned men is part of Chinese tradition, maybe it was driven by surviving harsh natural disasters, or driven by the desire to live eternally, but it clearly enriched the intellect’s sense of community, which had been summarized by Fan Zhongyan (989-1052) in his famous essay “Records of the Yueyang Tower”:
Worry should be before,
and joy must be after
those of the people.
The Yueyang Tower is a historical site located at modern Yueyang, Hunan. In 1044, Teng Zijing became the local governor, started to rebuild this tower, and invited his friend Fan Zhongyan to memorialize this event. On the 15th day of the 9th lunar month in 1046 A.D., Fan, a Chinese poet, writer, politician, philosopher, and military strategist, completed his essay. It soon became so well-known that any educated Chinese can recite some parts or the entire piece, and the two sentences quoted above always stand out. Fan Zhongyan carried on the caring tradition in his words, people who loved his words and recited his words also carried on the tradition: care about others.
Does America have the existing registration which allows the intellect practice and imply the sense of caring? Does caring about others hurt or hinder democracy? Can we all wear masks to protect not just ourselves but also the elders who are more venerable to the creepy germ? To protect the colored who are not been taken care of due to the lack of medical treatment? To protect our next generations who might spread the disease further?
Actually yes! I have been nourished by history and literature, so I spent time on finding inspiration from the past, I am glad I found the everlasting sense of caring. What also excites me is that I am not alone searching, and caring is not a Chinese remedy, nor humanities. Recently a science paper by Drs. Jeff Toney and Stephanie Ishock called my attention. They examined the 1890 Russian Flu and compared it with COVID, and concluded as following:
“The pandemic that has rocked the core of our society, ripping us apart, can become an opportunity to bring us closer together and slow down or completely avoid the next wave of this pandemic. As technology advances toward safe, effective vaccines and antiviral therapies, human nature will remain the same. In the end, empathy and the resolve to protect one another could be the most important factors in saving as many lives as possible.”[8]
“Empathy” and “protect one another” are caring! WE, historian, politician, poets, scientists, Chinese, and American, are reaching the same goal through different routes. Let’s care, show care, demonstrate care, and promote care. If not now, then when?!
