Meritocracy, Aristocracy, and “Literati Democracy” in Chinese Imperial History

Author(s):  
Pablo Ariel Blitstein

This chapter focuses on Qian Mu’s theory of “literati democracy” and related claims that the selection of literati officials in imperial China was “meritocratic.” By focusing on China’s early Middle Ages, this chapter shows, first, that before the implementation of civil service examinations in the seventh century, “meritocracy” already was a ruling principle of medieval recruitment systems; and second, that the meritocratic nature of Qian Mu’s literati democracy evinces a close historical relation with the aristocratic world of the Chinese Middle Ages. Although meritocracy has been praised globally as democratic by enthusiastic advocates of “modernization,” this chapter suggests that such meritocracy is as aristocratic today as it was in medieval China.

Author(s):  
Lynda Coon

The final chapter of this volume explores the conversation on Jesus held between material and textual sources, where monumental works of sculpture extend salvific themes found in the lives of saints and the verses of poets. Merovingian meditations on Jesus are multivocal, reflecting the cross-cultural rhythms of a world open to and receptive of external influences, whether originating in classical or biblical texts or hailing from Mediterranean or Northern lands. In order to prove this hypothesis on the Merovingian body and the embodied savior, three works of sculpture produced during the early Middle Ages serve as sounding boards for Jesus’ earthly ministry as enacted by human players: the crucified savior featured on the seventh-century Moselkern Stele; the eighth-century Hypogée des Dunes’s sculpted relief of the two thieves crucified along with Jesus; and the so-called Niederdollendorf “Christ,” carved most likely in the seventh century. Saintly actors, such as Radegund of Poitiers (d. 587), animate three themes expressed in the sculpted sources respectively: (1) absence, (2) torture, and (3) light. The three subjects—light, torture, and absence—all point to strategies of integrating the realm of humanity within the celestial spheres, and each motif tracks different styles of meditating on Merovingian Jesus.


Author(s):  
Luc Bourgeois

The study of places of power in the Merovingian realm has long been focused on cities, monasteries, and royal palaces. Recent archaeological research has led to the emergence of other categories. Four of them are addressed in this chapter. These include the capitals of fallen cities, which continue to mark the landscape in one way or another. Similarly, the fate of small Roman towns during the early Middle Ages shows that most of them continued to host a variety of secular and ecclesiastical powers. In addition, from the fourth century onward, large hilltop fortified settlements multiplied anew. They complemented earlier networks of authority, whether elite residences, artisan communities, or real towns. Finally, from the seventh century onward, the great aristocratic villas of late antiquity were transformed into settlements organized around one or more courtyards and supplemented by funerary and religious structures. The evolution of political spaces and lifestyles explains both the ruptures in power networks that occurred during the Merovingian epoch and the many continuities that can be seen in the four kinds of places studied in this chapter that were marked by these developments.


Author(s):  
Rui Magone

The examination system, also known as “civil service examinations” or “imperial examinations”—and, in Chinese, as keju科舉, keju zhidu科舉制度, gongju貢舉, xuanju選舉 or zhiju制舉—was the imperial Chinese bureaucracy’s central institution for recruiting its officials. Following both real and idealized models from previous times, the system was established at the beginning of the 7th century ce evolving over several dynasties into a complex institution that prevailed for 1,300 years before its abolition in 1905. One of the system’s most salient features, especially in the late imperial period (1400–1900), was its meritocratic structure (at least in principle, if not necessarily in practice): almost anyone from among the empire’s male population could sit for the examinations. Moreover, candidates were selected based on their performance rather than their pedigree. In order to be accessible to candidates anywhere in the empire, the system’s infrastructure spanned the entire territory. In a long sequence of triennial qualifying examinations at the local, provincial, metropolitan, and palace levels candidates were mainly required to write rhetorically complicated essays elucidating passages from the Confucian canon. Most candidates failed at each level, and only a couple of hundred out of a million or often more examinees attained final examination success at the metropolitan and palace levels. Due to its accessibility and ubiquity, the examination system had a decisive impact on the intellectual and social landscapes of imperial China. This impact was reinforced by the rule that candidates were allowed to retake examinations as often as they needed to in order to reach the next level. It was therefore not uncommon for individuals in imperial China to spend the great part of their lives, occasionally even until their last breath, sitting for the competitions. Indeed the extant sources reveal, by their sheer quantity alone, that large parts of the population, not only aspiring candidates, were in fact obsessed with the civil service examinations in the same way that modern societies are fascinated by sports leagues. To a great extent, it was this obsession, along with the system’s centripetal force constantly pulling the population in the different regions toward the political center in the capital, which may have held the large territory of imperial China together, providing it with both coherence and cohesion. Modern Historiography has tended to have a negative view of the examination system, singling it out, and specifically its predominantly literary curriculum, as the major cause for traditional Chinese society’s failure to develop into a modern nation with a strong scientific and technological tradition of its own. In the late 20th and early 21st century, this paradigm has become gradually more nuanced as historians have begun to develop new ways of approaching the extant sources, in particular the large number of examination essays and aids.


Author(s):  
C. Philipp E. Nothaft

This chapter familiarizes readers with the ancient back-story of the Julian calendar and describes how one of the central problems inherent in this calendar—the drift of the equinoxes and solstices caused by an overestimation of the length of the tropical year—manifested itself in medieval literature until the end of the eleventh century. It also explores how the development of the computus genre in seventh-century Ireland was instrumental in preserving knowledge of the Western calendar’s Roman-pagan roots. The final two sections show how the existence of diverging traditions for the dates of the equinoxes and solstices in the Julian calendar created an important context for the practice of solar astronomy in early medieval Europe, which included the use of observational methods.


2020 ◽  
Vol 1 (2) ◽  
pp. 251-287
Author(s):  
Grégoire Espesset

Abstract Still neglected by modern research, the “Weft” (or “Apocrypha”) contain a wealth of unexploited data relevant to Chinese history in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages. Sometimes ascribed to Confucius, these texts, whose Chinese name (wei 緯) denotes the crosswise threads of woven fabric, have long been perceived as arcane supplements to the “Classics,” called jing 經, the lengthwise threads. Repeatedly prohibited and destroyed, they survive mainly as citations today. This paper focuses on one of them, anonymous, undated, and fragmentary, titled Qiantan ba 潛潭巴. Most of its remnants present extrapolations derived from observed phenomena interpreted as signs. By comparing the observed patterns to the typology of portents in the official monographs on celestial phenomena and the Five Agents of the era, the paper sheds light on the logic at work in the interpretative process.


2013 ◽  
Vol 82 (1) ◽  
pp. 40-68
Author(s):  
Carolyn Muessig

Francis of Assisi's reported reception of the stigmata on Mount La Verna in 1224 is widely held to be the first documented account of an individual miraculously and physically receiving the wounds of Christ. The appearance of this miracle, however, in the first quarter of the thirteenth century, is not as unexpected as it first seems. Interpretations of Galatians 6:17—“I bear the marks of the Lord Jesus Christ in my body”—had been circulating in biblical commentaries since the early Middle Ages. These works posited that clerics bore metaphorical and sometimes physical wounds(stigmata)as marks of persecution, while spreading the teaching of Christ in the face of resistance. By the seventh century, the meaning of Galatians 6:17 had been appropriated by bishops and priests as a sign or mark of Christ that they received invisibly at their ordination, and sometimes visibly upon their death. In the eleventh century, Peter Damian articulated a stigmatic spirituality that saw the ideal priest, monk, and nun as bearers of Christ's wounds, a status achieved through the swearing of vows and the practice of severe penance. By the early twelfth century, crusaders were said to bear the marks of the Passion in death and even sometimes as they entered into battle. By the early thirteenth century, “bearing the stigmata” was a pious superlative appropriated by a few devout members of the laity who interpreted Galatian 6:17 in a most literal manner. Thus, this article considers how the conception of “bearing the stigmata” developed in medieval Europe from its treatment in early Latin patristic commentaries to its visceral portrayal by the laity in the thirteenth century.


1996 ◽  
Vol 32 ◽  
pp. 31-43
Author(s):  
Rob Meens

Unity and diversity form a theme which Gregory the Great addressed in his famous set of answers to Augustine of Canterbury. Augustine had asked the Pope: Even though the faith is one, are there varying customs in the churches? and is there one form of mass in the Holy Roman Church and another in the Churches of Gaul? To this, the Pope replied: My brother, you know the customs of the Roman Church in which, of course, you were brought up. But it is my wish that if you have found any customs in the Roman or the Gaulish church or any other church which may be more pleasing to Almighty God, you should make a careful selection of them and sedulously teach the Church of the English, which is still new in the faith, what you have been able to gather from other churches. For things are not to be loved for the sake of a place, but places are to be loved for the sake of their good things. Therefore choose from every individual Church whatever things are devout, religious, and right. And when you have collected these as it were into one pot, put them on the English table for their use.


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