The second chapter of Kautilya’s Arthashastra is fittingly titled Vinayadhikarana. It can be loosely translated as On the Subject of Training. Its scope is quite encyclopaedic, and at one level, it can be likened to a training manual. It contains a highly detailed exposition of the process for selecting ministers. Even at this distance in time, one cannot but marvel at the breadth and depth to which Chanakya has gone. We can offer only the briefest of summaries of this chapter.
Before being appointed, the aspirant was subjected to rigorous tests which were above and beyond their formal education, scholarship, talent, skill, or experience. Kautilya assigned the topmost spot to the following qualities: personal character and conduct, unimpeachable integrity, and unquestionable fealty to the land. To qualify in these, he devised the fabled fourfold Kautilyan Test:
Religious allurement
Monetary enticement
Sexual temptation
Inducement of threats to the aspirant’s physical safety
Depending on which tests the aspirant passed or failed, portfolios would be allocated. For example, if a candidate failed all tests but passed the test of sexual temptation, he would be placed in charge of “pleasure houses" or brothels. A candidate who passed all the tests would be appointed to serve in the office of the Prime Minister.
However, the test did not end after the candidate was appointed. Serving ministers and high-ranking bureaucrats were subjected to continuous scrutiny, typically by a well-oiled and extensive spy system and various mechanisms of vigilance. The manner in which Kautilya administered the sprawling Mauryan Empire is the best proof of the effectiveness of this system.
The contrast with our own time could not be starker—or more disheartening. Suffice it to say that numerous high-ranking members of the civil services have been caught making dangerous compromises with the breaking India forces.
Apart from these tests, appointments to ministerial offices in ancient India also required the following qualifications:
A solid training in the arts, such as music, drama, and poetry
A thorough mastery of grammar
Elegant handwriting
A conscious cultivation of vision and foresight
A strong memory
Eloquence
Health, vigour, and enthusiasm
Advanced training in military combat exercises
A personal demeanour that exuded dignity, poise, composure, charm, and wit
Round-the-clock accessibility to everyone, including the lowest classes of society
A genuine attitude of affection and warmth towards all classes of society
Ruthlessness devoid of personal hatred when dealing with criminals
Purity in personal and public life: In general, this meant that the minister or official had to uphold the mandatory elements of achara (spiritual conduct) and vyavahara (worldly conduct)—including prescribed dharmic rituals, festivals, vratas, daana, building rest houses, granting pastures etc.
The Mahabharata contains an evocative set of verses that present a profound list of qualifications and qualities a minister must possess:
“Oh Rajan! Take care that your ministers are men well-versed in the theory and practice of statecraft and the application of the six gunas: noble birth, piety, faultlessness, statesmanship, knowledge of the Sacred Law, and expertise in history.
“They must be skilled in reading and interpreting the unwritten signs and intentions (Ingitajnana) of people as if they were an open book.
“They must fully understand what should be done and when. They must be heroic and strong. They must be well-born and well-bred, keen-witted, and must succeed in all tasks they undertake.
“They must be experts in the art of warfare and in the fortification of strongholds to render them impregnable. They must be deeply learned in the Dharmashastras, broad-minded, and capable of showing mercy when the situation demands it.
“They must be wise, endowed with foresight, and possess the acumen to circumvent all future dangers. They must have the inner strength to face and subdue any imminent threat. They must keenly anticipate the motives of both foes and friends alike.
“More importantly, they must know how to deal with indifferent and lazy kings who act without purpose, and they must guard their secrets, standing firm like rocks.
“O King! These ministers must be Dharmic, generous, and immune to all temptations. Ultimately, such ministers are strong and steadfast, like patient cows, bearing the burden of the state upon their backs."
The history and culture of the Indian people and their civilisation form an inspiring, sublime, and grand kaleidoscope, pieced together with exquisite patterns of the lives and legacies of such ministers. There is a volume waiting to be written documenting the heritage of these exalted souls. In the annals of our epics, such figures include the wise Sumantra, Dasharatha’s minister or Vidura, the philosopher-minister.
In the annals of recorded history, we find Chanakya, one of the pioneers of world statecraft; Darbhapani, the Prime Minister of the Pala Empire; Vidyaranya Swami, the spiritual architect and Prime Minister of the Vijayanagara Empire; Thimmarasu, the Rajguru and Prime Minister of Krishnadevaraya; and, in more recent times, Sir M. Visvesvaraya.
Authors of various Dharmashastra treatises have invariably recommended that the King should follow the Prime Minister as “a student follows his preceptor, and a son his father." History provides numerous instances demonstrating that this precept was put into practice long before it was formally codified. It also enjoyed remarkable longevity—all the way up to the time when India adopted a questionable democracy.
The 1970 Kannada blockbuster Sri Krishnadevaraya brings this illustrious practice of statecraft to life in a scene where Prime Minister Thimmarasu repeatedly slaps the newly coronated Emperor Sri Krishnadevaraya. This is how Krishnadevaraya responds: “I understand that there is an intrinsic message of virtue and caution in your slaps. It only shows the depth of your affection towards me."
I believe further commentary on this point is superfluous.
The foundational theory and practice that ensured an innate harmony between the King and the Council of Ministers has perhaps suffered its severest blow after 1947. By concentrating all power in his own person, Jawaharlal Nehru became the contemporary symbol of this beating. He became—to borrow his own words—“a Caesar," an unaccountable monarch in a democracy which was formed after abolishing the Princely States.
By surrounding himself with flatterers, self-servers and Indian agents of the Soviet Union, Nehru became their puppet, while they, in turn, fattened themselves on India. Thus, while in the public eye he appeared to be the unchallenged leader of the country, the real drama was unfolding behind the scenes. In the Emersonian sense, this was that drama: “But the President has paid dear for his White House. It has commonly cost him all his peace, and the best of his manly attributes. To preserve for a short time so conspicuous an appearance before the world, he is content to eat dust before the real masters who stand erect behind the throne."
Perhaps we wait in vain for the day when the long-overdue reform of our bureaucracy will finally become a reality —one that incorporates these time-honoured Sanatana precepts of statecraft and governance.
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