WebNovels

Chapter 5 - Peace and Strategy: Mozi Challenges War

In the West, many recall Tolstoy, who renounced violence and sought moral truth through peace and love. Centuries earlier in ancient China, another thinker dared to speak against the drums of war—not with armies, but with reason and conviction. His name was Mozi.

Warring States Period, around 430 BCE

The air in the State of Chu was thick with the scent of iron and ambition. A great ruler prepared to wage war against the smaller State of Song, seeking glory through conquest. Into this charged court walked Mozi, a philosopher clad not in silk, but in coarse cloth, his eyes bright with urgency and compassion.

He bowed deeply before the king."Your Majesty," he began, "you speak of victory. But what victory is there in ruin? To seize another's land is to sow sorrow in both hearts. The strong may win the battle, but the people—yours and theirs—will bear the wounds."

The court erupted in murmurs. Some laughed. Others frowned. The king's general smirked. "You speak as if peace can shield us from greed, as if love alone can hold back armies."

Mozi stood firm. "If each ruler acts out of self-interest, the world burns. But if one ruler chooses restraint, he teaches others that reason, not rage, is the path of strength. I have measured the machines of war myself, and I can defend the weak with nothing more than wit and principle."

Impressed by Mozi's courage, the king agreed to a test. For three days, Mozi debated the generals, countering every stratagem with logic so clear that even the proudest soldiers found no flaw. His words carried not arrogance but conviction—born of a belief that humanity could rise above violence through shared purpose and universal love.

When the debates ended, the hall was silent. The king finally said, "Your reasoning defeats our swords. We shall not march."

Mozi bowed once more, his coarse robe whispering against the polished floor. He had no wealth, no army, no rank—but his mind had disarmed a kingdom.

Long after Mozi departed, the halls of Chu echoed with his words—a strange mixture of strength and compassion. Across the land, others began to ponder where true beauty and meaning might dwell if not in conquest. Some found it in art, in the fleeting grace of ink and gesture. One such man, centuries later, would gather poets by a flowing stream and leave behind a masterpiece that spoke not of war, but of harmony.

More Chapters