"Your Bodies and Names Shall Perish Together, but the Great Rivers Flow On Forever" -- Confucianism Has Intellectually Constituted the True "Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere"!

For over two thousand years, there have been plenty of people cursing Confucianism, yet none of it has changed the fact that Confucianism became the intellectual foundation of every East Asian nation. In truth, the so-called "Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere" that little Japan fantasized about was already realized through Confucianism -- Confucianism has intellectually constituted the true "Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere."

Confucianism is of course not simply "the teachings of Confucius." Confucianism has always been an evolving system. Marxism can develop -- why can't Confucianism? Throughout history, those who blindly cursed Confucianism were merely spitting into the wind. As the saying goes, "Your bodies and names shall perish together, but the great rivers flow on forever." Over two thousand years of Confucian development have proven this without exception.

First of all, one absolutely cannot equate Confucianism with Confucius. Confucius merely compiled and annotated some ancient classics with his own commentary. If we look at it from the perspective of the Book of Changes, the Confucian school developed the yang -- the masculine, vigorous aspect -- while the Daoist school developed the yin -- the soft, yielding aspect. This one yang and one yin together constitute the Way of the original Chinese civilization. Of course, without the later introduction of Buddhist culture, Chinese civilization could never have reached such heights. But even in its original state, Chinese civilization was still far beyond the reach of today's trash literati.

From the ancient civilization represented by the Book of Changes, to Confucius, Zisi, Mencius and others, then to Han Confucianism, Song Neo-Confucianism, and Ming School of Mind -- this constitutes the historical developmental thread of the Confucian tradition. Additionally, the early Qing Dynasty and the Republican era also brought new interpretations of Confucianism. Confucianism emphasizes masculine vigor, emphasizes the vast and righteous qi -- this is embodied in Wen Tianxiang's "Song of Righteous Qi." For the excessively soft and yielding national temperament of today, this is perhaps what most urgently needs supplementing:

Song of Righteous Qi

Between heaven and earth there is righteous qi, mixed and endowed into all flowing forms. Below it becomes rivers and mountains; above it becomes sun and stars. In humans it is called vast integrity, surging forth to fill the blue abyss.
When the imperial way is clear and level, it holds harmony and breathes into the bright court. Only when times are desperate does true integrity appear, each case recorded in vermilion annals: in Qi, the Grand Historian's bamboo slips; in Jin, Dong Hu's brush.
In Qin, Zhang Liang's iron hammer; in Han, Su Wu's steadfast token; as General Yan's severed head, as Attendant Ji's blood, as Zhang Suiyang's teeth, as Yan Changshan's tongue.
At times as the Liaodong cap, pure conduct hard as ice and snow; at times as the "Memorial on Going to War," moving ghosts and gods to tears with its heroic force. At times as oars crossing the river, with righteous fury swallowing Hu and Jie;
at times as a court tablet striking traitors, smashing rebel skulls apart. This qi expands in grandeur, austere and enduring through all ages. When it pierces sun and moon, how can life and death be worth discussing!
The earth's frame stands by it, heaven's pillar is honored by it. The Three Bonds depend on it for life, and moral duty takes it as root. Alas, I encountered ill-fated times; as a captive official, my strength was truly insufficient.
Like a Chu prisoner with prison-cord round his cap, in transfer carts sent to the barren north. Cauldrons and boiling vats seemed sweet as stuffing, yet impossible to attain. In dark cells, ghostly fires dimly burn; in spring courtyards, the sky is shut in blackness.
Ox and steed share one stable; chickens roost while phoenixes must peck. One morning touched by mist and dew, all are divided into ditch-side carrion. Endure thus through cold and heat again, and a hundred plagues retreat on their own.
Alas for this swampy ground -- for me it is a land of peace and joy. What crooked trick could there be? Yin and yang cannot harm me! Looking back, this loyal flame still burns bright; I raise my eyes to white drifting clouds.
Long, long is the sorrow in my heart -- how could vast heaven have an end! The sages grow farther day by day, yet their models remain from old. Under windy eaves I open books and read; the ancient Way shines upon my face.