Ｔｈｅ Ｉｍｐｅｒｉａｌ Ｅｘａｍｉｎａｔｉｏｎ Ｓｙｓｔｅｍ ａｎｄ Ｉｔｓ Ｖａｇａｒｉｅｓ

ＨＵＯ　ＪＩＡＮＹＩＮＧ

THE celebrity that Jiang Ziya achieved 3,000 years ago lives on, simply in his being regarded as the patron saint of human resources. During his lifetime Jiang worked as butcher, innkeeper, vendor, and fisherman. It was his meeting, at the age of 70, with King Wen of the Kingdom of Zhou that changed both his fate and that of the erstwhile vassal state. Jiang exemplifies the crucial nature of discerning qualities in a person that make them fit for a leadership role.

Early Methods ofOfficial Selection

None of King Wens many civilian or military officials struck him as suitable for the task of training troops and devising military strategies. He consequently toured the kingdom in search of a suitable candidate. During his travels he heard of an eccentric fisherman who angled with a straightened rather than a curved hook. Unsurprisingly, he had caught nothing for three years. The reason he gave for this self-defeating approach to making a living was: “I prefer to subsist by straight, than gain by crooked means; I set my fishing pole to catch kings and dukes rather than carp.” King Wen, understanding Jiangs implicit meaning, immediately set out to find him. In the ensuing talks between monarch and fisherman, the former was greatly impressed with Jiangs broad knowledge, insight and shrewd analysis of the current political and military situation. Ostensibly a fisherman, Jiang Ziya had obvious political ambitions. He sought to topple the corrupt Shang Dynasty and establish the Zhou Dynasty in its place. King Wen first appointed Jiang Ziya state tutor and later prime minister in charge of both civilian and military affairs. Jiang assisted King Wen, and later his son King Wu, in their establishment of the Zhou Dynasty (11th century -256 BC), which ruled for 800 years.

China was a slave society during the Shang and Zhou dynasties. Officials, in common with emperors, inherited their exalted positions rather than being appointed on merit. Jiang Ziya, as a talented commoner that rose to prominence within the nations ruling organ, was the first exception to this convention. Had it not been for the wise leadership of King Wen, he would otherwise have remained a social nonentity.

Jiangs appointment signaled a positive change in approach to the selection of court officials. Enfeoffed princes and royal relatives whose power had grown by the late Zhou Dynasty were keen to consolidate their local governance. Doubtlessly inspired by King Wens example, there were cases of single aristocrats appointing thousands of scholars solely on the basis of talent and expertise, rather than social status or family background. Known in Chinese as menke (mentors and advisors) or shike (hangers-on), these scholars acted as private advisors and aides to their masters. Although not placed on the official payroll or given official titles, there were some that nevertheless achieved prominence. One example is Fan Sui, who eventually held the office of prime minister of the State of Qin. It was not until the late third century BC of the Han Dynasty that specific rules for the selection of officials were institutionalized.

The Han Dynasty (206 BC-AD 220) had two main methods of selecting its officials. One was through recommendations by local officials; the second was after a direct audience with either the emperor or a high-ranking official. In the former case, local officials, according to the requirements of the central government, proposed candidates that were well read paragons of filial piety, bold enough to offer frank advice and suggestions. The central government made selections after candidates had undergone the relevant examination process. In the second instance, either the emperor or his high-ranking officials personally interviewed more illustrious candidates and appointed them to posts commensurate with their particular skills and talents.

These conventions became streamlined in the centuries after the Han Dynasty. Recommended candidates were eventually classified under nine levels corresponding to official ranks. Official posts for the express purpose of selecting and appointing officials also became institutionalized.

The latter innovation, however, gave rise to selections that were made on a purely subjective basis. Nepotism and bribery were consequently rife, and only candidates from privileged family backgrounds were appointed to high-ranking posts. This situation changed for the better in the Sui Dynasty (581-618). It was then that the imperial examination system came into force.

Fair Play in a Mans World

The imperial examination system, or keju/kekao, comprised a pyramid structure of official selection. It incorporated in its early days the local (prefecture- or county-level), provincial and national exams. An in-palace exam, or dianshi, personally presided over by the emperor, was incorporated into the system during the Song Dynasty (960-1279). It was the finishing touch to the four-level imperial examination structure that continued until 1905, when the Qing Government abolished the entire system.

Local examinations, known as tongshi or beginners exams, were the bottom rung of the examination ladder to officialdom. The so-called xiucai who had passed the tongshi could enter the provincial examinations. The xiucai title was also a certificate of merit entitling the holder to a subsidy or living allowance, reduced taxes, and exemption from corvee labor as well as the convention of kneeling before officials. Seekers of official posts needed to pass the provincial exam before being awarded the official title of juren, but it by no means guaranteed an official post. The more fortunate juren found positions as prefectural or countymagistrates.

The Board of Rites usually conducted the national exam, or huishi, meaning assembly exam, for which only juren were eligible. Those that passed earned the title of gongshi. It was this select number that qualified to enter the final exam within the imperial palace. The in-palace test was more of a placement contest than an advancement exam. Those that passed were more often than not conferred the title of jinshi and offered official posts. But only the top three – in descending order the zhuangyuan, bangyan and tanhua – were personally appointed by the emperor to high-ranking positions.

The imperial exam system may be defined as fair play in a mans world. It was open to all men of letters – in the gender sense – and carried no restrictions as regards age or family background. Scores were the sole criterion on which contestants were judged. There was also no limit on the number of attempts at each level of the exam. During the 1,300 years the system was in force it was not uncommon to see the names of young adults, octogenarians and even nonagenarians on lists of juren. In 1775, the 40th year of the Qianlong reign, for example, the names of one nonagenarian, 20 octogenarians and five septuagenarians appeared on the lists of juren from around the country.

The imperial examinations, therefore, offered an impartial route to social mobility for everyday citizens.

Historic Role

Only a minority of participants in imperial examinations eventually entered officialdom. But the system fostered an intellectual element within the populace that in turn propelled cultural and social progress in ancient China. During the 1,300 years the imperial examination system was in force it nurtured a zeal for learning that boosted development of government-run and private schools around the country. The keju produced more than 100,000 jinshi and millions of juren. Most of the famous administrators, politicians, thinkers and military strategists in Chinese history originated in the keju ranks.

The exams emphasis was on liberal arts. In the Tang Dynasty, for example, examinees were well advised to produce examples of their poetry prior to taking the exam. This enabled an assessment not only of their literary grace, but also of their calligraphy. In the practice known as scrolling, examinees would copy their literary works on to scrolls and present them to political, cultural and social personages, in hopes of recommendations to the Board of Rites. Such was the case of the great Tang Dynasty poet Bai Juyi.

Bai understood the meter of ancient poems at age five. By the time he had reached his teens he was writing exquisite poetry. Before taking the national exam, he took a scroll of his poems to the capital city of Changan (present-day Xian) to present to Gu Kuang, a renowned poet of the time. Influenced by his visitors young age, Gu, made a pun on the name Juyi, which in Chinese means to settle down and make an easy living, when he remarked, “Its probably not easy to settle in Changan, as the price of rice here is high.” But after unrolling the scroll and glancing at the first poem he soon changed his tune. It was Grass on the Ancient Plain – Farewell to a Friend, one of Bais masterpieces that is still widely read and appreciated. Gus next remark was, “Such a talent for poetry will certainly make it easy to settle in Changan.” Gu subsequently hosted a banquet in honor of Bai Juyi, and invited the capitals literati. It made Bai an overnight literary celebrity.

Imperial examinees that had passed the in-palace exam and become jinshi were thin on the ground during the Tang Dynasty. A well-known maxim of the time states that in the normal course of a mans life he, “becomes a jinshi at age 50.” Bai Juyi, at age 29, was the youngest of the 17 jinshi that had sat and passed that years huishi. Bai sustained his reputation as an upright, incorruptible and accomplished administrator throughout his official career.

The Tang Dynasty is regarded as the golden age of Chinese poetry. More than 49,000 poems by 2,300 Tang poets are still widely recited today. In addition to enabling a large number of competent officials to enter the foreground of the contemporary political stage, therefore, the Tang Dynasty imperial exams also engendered generations of gifted poets and men of letters that took Chinese poetry to its zenith.

As the imperial exams focused almost exclusively on Confucian classics, theyhelped popularize Confucian education and establish Confucianism as one of Chinas three pillars of wisdom.

Decline

It was in the 14th century during the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), that the imperial exams changed format and adopted the rigid, eight-legged style of essay writing. Examinees were expected to adhere closely to this format while, “assuming the tone of their ancient predecessors.” A strict number of characters was also allotted to each of the eight “legs.” This inflexible approach continued throughout the succeeding Qing Dynasty, to the detriment of its cultural, social and educational development. Malpractice in imperial exams, such as bribery, also became rampant. Gu Yanwu, a celebrated Qing Dynasty scholar, declared the eight-legged practice as “more disastrous than ‘book burning” (the purge of Confucianism ordered by Qin Shihuang, first emperor of the Qin Dynasty, when Confucian books were burnt and Confucian scholars buried alive).

The Qing Dynastys decline matched the deterioration of the imperial exam system. By the late 19th century, the systems failure to produce competent officials was being cited as the cause of successive domestic and diplomatic crises. Officials began sending imperial memorials to the throne, imploring it to “abandon the imperial exam system and operate modern schools instead.” The Qing Government issued a decree in 1905 announcing the suspension of imperial exams. This marked the end of the 1,300-year-old system. The 1911 Revolution ended the Qing Dynasty six years later.

The merits and demerits of the keju system, however, remained an historical topic. Sun Yat-sen, father of Chinas democratic revolution, spoke of the keju (in his Five-Power Constitution) as “the best ancient system for the selection of talented people in the world.” Western scholars commend the keju system as the “fifth invention of ancient China,” in addition to the compass, gunpowder, papermaking and printing. The positive role that the keju system played in Chinas history is clearly evident in its literary treasures, as well as in the legacies of its masters of statecraft and military strategy.