Ancient Intelligence Apparatus: On Spycraft and Foreign Affairs

Book 1, Chapter 11

This is the final post on this chapter and apologies that it has taken so long. Other writing, work and life intervened, as they often do.

The final verses of this chapter deal specifically with the use of the state intelligence apparatus as an essential instrument of foreign policy. Once again, there are indications that either the verses have been modified either in their order of appearance or their context, or both over the intervening centuries. However the usual level of coherence which identifies Chanakya's political theories remains at the core.

Chanakya appears to suggest that foreign spies would also follow the categories set for and maintained by domestic intelligence apparatus (explained earlier in three parts: in general and specifically here and here) , with some key differences.

He recommends a sort of deep embedded sleeper cell system where spies are sent off to settle and become citizens of the target state. At the same time, he also ruthlessly recommends that such a spy's family and dear loved one be maintained at home and their care be in charge of the state. This very modern use of inducement (state cares for family) with threat (state retains control of the safety of the same) is typically Chanakya. Although harder to practice in the modern day scenario by most democratic states, this is still used widely by authoritarian nation-states.

Interestingly enough, Chanakya also points out that some of these spies can - and even ought to - receive wages from both their own state and the one where they are deployed. This suggests both an early idea of "double agent" although the text also suggests that this - in some cases at least - be a necessary corollary of the spy finding employment in a sensitive area, office or industry of the target nation. The need to maintain long term "hostages" to ensure loyalty and productivity thus becomes even more crucial on a tactical level.

More interesting from a contemporary viewpoint is Chanakya's injunction that foreign intelligence apparatus be extended to both friendly, unfriendly and even indifferent foreign kingdoms and states.

Meanwhile, ever the strategician, Chanakya also points out that the state must also maintain a close watch on the foreign spies other nations will have deployed at home. This cloak-and-dagger chapter becomes very modern as he points to not only a counter-intelligence organisation geared to monitoring foreign spies on domestic soil but also indicates how these foreign spies may be utilised as aspects of state policy.

Interestingly, he points to the utilisation of these foreign spies fors not only feeding information and disinformation, but also for testing the loyalty and efficacy of one's own spies based abroad.

In addition to spying on the king, Chanakya is clear that the spies deployed abroad must also gather information on and penetrate into the inner circles of the government and social elite of foreign nations.

As in the earlier sections of the two chapters, he points to the use of craftsmen, tradesmen, the physically challenged, women and others as personnel for this foreign spy network. But most intriguing - and very practical - in this verse is Chanakya's inclusion of the "melechchha" who may also be recruited for foreign espionage.

NOTE: This is interesting given Chanakya's historical location, having lived through the Greek invasion of 326 B.C. but also because it suggests a pragmatic cultural stance towards the social outsiders. A key point ought to be noted: melechchha is often translated as "non-caste" or "untouchable" but a more apt translation would be "unclean." Classical Indic traditions do not differentiate between sacred/profane or us/them but rather between clean and unclean. Any person not of the society by jati, varna and/or gotra would be considered unclean. However, at the same time, the potential for change is also embedded within the concept: so a melechchha may become "clean" and thus part of society. Records of intermarriage with the Greeks - considered by Indic traditions as melechchha - are examples of this social fluidity.

The final verses of the chapter are rather prosaic as the texts explicitly lists the potential categories and places of deployment for spies:

1. Spies can be introduced within fort walls as traders and businessmen,

2. Used at the outskirts of towns and beyond fort walls in guise of ascetics and religious
teachers

3. Forests ought to be monitored by spies in guise of forest dwellers, although here again
Chanakya shows his basic inclusivity by pointing out that forest-dwellers should also be
inducted into the intelligence apparatus as serving personnel (Btw, this reminds me of how
the initial Kargil alert was apparently sounded by shepherds along the high ranges).

4. Border spies must be posted and closely monitored for their ability to resist lures of fame,
money, honours or women (Chanakya was very aware of "honey traps" as part of tradecraft, as
is obvious by his use of women for espionage)

A final note must be made before ending: Chanakya also suggests monitoring cultivating relatives of the king and/or other targets, suggesting that these may serve as a weak point, either through their ability to betray the target, being trapped by a clever plot or arrested and held hostage by an enemy state.

This weak point is also to be monitored amongst the spies, with only those capable of withstanding these promoted and maintained to highest levels of confidentiality.

Having dealt extensively with the setting up and organisation of the state intelligence apparatus, Chanakya next moves onto the way these may be used. The next chapter considers both the use of spies for internal and external monitoring and information gathering, as well as for influencing public opinions and moods. I shall try to tackle that as soon as possible.

In the meantime, thanks for reading.

More on the State Intelligence Apparatus: Field Operatives and Women Spies!

Book 1, Chapter 11

This is the third and penultimate post of Chanakya's comprehensive discussion of the classical state intelligence structure. Having detailed the role of long-term established spies, Chanakya moves on to the field operatives or itinerant ones.

These are divided into four categories and are distinguished from the earlier five by their ability to move and short-term deployment. The four categories reference the original four purusharthas, by absence or presence or subversion of these ideals.

The first category includes a host of professions which are marked by their ability to move around as well as extensive contact with people. Professions suggested by Chanakya include: astrologers, medical practitioners, travelling veterinary and animal specialists, hypnotists (could they be equivalents of counselors or psychologists?), those able to identify birds by their sounds as well as have knowledge of their care (an early indication of the importance of birds in daily life and social status or perhaps something more magical?), magicians, entertainers, prostitutes, as well as artists (specifically dancers and musicians). Here, Chanakya also lists priests - as opposed to ascetics - with knowledge of rites and rituals.

This category seems to be motivated by a whole range of impulses, unlike the other three which have very clearly specified motivations. However I consider this category to be linked to the artha aspect of the purusharthas as it covers a wide range of material aspects, including wealth, fame, status etc.

Chanakya suggests that this first group of spies be categorised based on their abilities, knowledge, reputation, social status as well as talents. Based on this categorisation, these spies are then assigned to monitor cabinet members, army generals, aristocrats as well as other key officials and administrators.

The second category of spies is more specifically linked to artha as these are people eager to gather wealth without care for physical dangers. Specifically, Chanakya states these are people who would face down elephants, tigers and venomous snakes in order to gain material success. These spies ought to be placed in employments close to the target, including palanquin-bearers, grooms for chariots and horses, umbrella carriers, fan-bearers and any other professions requiring close physical proximity to the target of espionage.

The third category seems linked more closely to kama within the categorisation of the purusharthas, and is notable for the reversal of what may be considered aesthetic desires as well as a simultaneous facilitation of the same. Chanakya states that this category employs those with cruel, lazy, selfish and uncaring individuals, who may also be capable of subtle murder (he specifically mentions poisoning). Not surprisingly, this category includes cooks and chefs, masseurs, barbers, beauticians, and others providing domestic and personal services.

Here Chanakya inserts another sub-category, again highlighting his pragmatic inclusivity but also a rather coldly calculating view of statecraft. He suggests that in addition to these spies, the intelligence apparatus also include mentally and physically challenged beggars and poor, street singers, gypsies and other outcasts who may evoke pity from the elite. He recommends that these people be placed in the vicinity of the palace and if necessary gain occasional admittance to them. Furthermore, Chanakya also recommends these pity-raising disguises for other professional spies as a way of accessing information.

The fourth category is the most interesting as it is mostly linked to dharma although also bears elements of artha and kama and entirely composed of women. Chanakya recommends widows and impoverished single women who may be able to disguise themselves as beggars or itinerant nuns. He recommends that these women be drawn from educated backgrounds, not for reasons of class but for their abilities of easy social interaction that can help them access homes and wives of the elite. He further suggests that these women be able to pass themselves off in various disguises and thus access the different layers of society.

He recommends that the women spy gain access to queens, female members of the family as well as domestic servants, and cultivate their friendships in order to gather information. She should also make use of the other three categories who ought to report to her.

Most interesting aspect of this fourth category is Chanakya's express injunction that the other three categories must rely on the woman spy to communicate their information. Indeed he insists that this fourth category be the sole link between the headquarters or local centre of the established spies and the itinerant ones. This injunction comes at the end of a clear heirarchy of reporting that Chanakya sets up, with various lower level spies communicating their information solely to the rung above but no further.

He also explains various tactics spies could utilise to communicate between those within and without the palace walls, including feigning illness and passing off other spies as family members. Amusingly enough, he suggests the use of songs, poems and prayers in order to encode information. In a desperate, urgent situation, Chanakya suggests that a spy within a fort or palace may feign contagious illness or poison guards or even carry out arson in order to create the opportunity to communicate with his/her handler.

A final point must be mentioned: Chanakya insists that the spies not know each other for a particularly reasonable tactical purpose. Lack of knowledge of each other ensures that information reaching the handler is not doctored or agreed upon. Should the information from the three categories of spies reaching the woman-handler differ, Chanakya suggests investigating the matter further. Here he does not stop at investigating the information but also the trustworthiness of the source. He recommends that an untrustworthy spy be eliminated quietly from the ranks.

The final verses of this chapter deal with the use of espionage for gathering foreign intelligence. The next post - hopefully in the next few days - shall deal with that aspect.

More On An Ancient Intelligence Apparatus

Book 1, Chapter 10

Before launching into this chapter, I would like to thank all those who read and comment on this blog, as well as those who email their thoughts and reactions to me.

Also, a clarification: this blog is not a translation; nor is it in any way meant to be an “authoritative” study or analysis of Chanakya’s text. I am using various translations and versions to do one simple thing: record my personal responses to this seminal political text. In the process, I hope that more people are made aware of the incredible worth and value of this book.

Far too often, in contemporary India, we treat our classical texts either with a Macauley-ist disdain or with unwarranted reverence. The unfortunate result of both these responses is that many of us no longer have access to these incredible documents of our ancient culture. This blog attempts to do something very personal: demystify and thus decolonise ancient political thought through an individual reading and thus bring it to more modern readers.

And so, onwards:

The first of two chapters on establishing an intelligence system explains the five kinds of spies who occupy relatively stationary, long term posts and are primarily used for gathering internal intelligence.

The fascinating point that Chanakya emphasises repeatedly is that the contact of government officials with spies must be limited as much as possible. Only the ruler or a very small number of trusted advisors should have contact with the spies, and must do so in complete secrecy. This is especially important as Chanakya suggests the use of spies for purposes of not only gathering information but also as an aspect of statecraft which may be deployed to entrap opposition, convince populace of specific aims and ideas, as well as use them as agent provocateurs to create controlled disturbances which may be of benefit to the state.

What is also intriguing in this chapter is Chanakya’s very modern use of the varieties of potential spies. The five explicit categories include students and/or intellectuals, unsuccessful businessmen, farmers, ascetics (or at least spies disguised as these), and women.

The first of these categories, according to Chanakya, include students. These, in addition to their intellectual capacities, should be bold even brash, argumentative and capable of eliciting information from others. These may include students or those involved in research, teaching, intellectual activity at a university or institute of higher learning.

Chanakya suggests that such students be recruited directly by the chief of intelligence services and only report to the chief and the ruler. Moreover, these spies ought to be regularly rewarded in cash and in honours. This seems very modern of Chanakya and throws open an entire possibility of ancient scholars not only working at universities but also benefitting from intelligence sharing, a practice quite prevalent in many western nations. Indian intelligence establishment could benefit from a revival of this ancient practice!

Interestingly, these students are intended to report on discontent and conspiracies developing amongst the youth. It seems that regardless of Europe’s soixante huitards, political analysts have long viewed students with suspicion, most likely with probably cause.

I must confess that suddenly the ancient Nalanda university gains a political science dimension that I had not considered before. Of course, given Chanakya’s own apparent link with the university at Takshashila, this comes as no surprise.

The second category of the five extends the intelligence apparatus to ascetics, especially those renowned for their intelligence and knowledge. Most curious, however, is Chanakya’s role for these. He recommends that such an ascetic be aided by the state in setting up a network of other ascetics who report on matters across the land. In return, these informants are paid in cash and material comforts. Indeed, the chief ascetic of the operation ought to have access not only to funds but also know-how in areas of animal husbandry, farming and small business, especially through the use of earlier mentioned student spies.

This is fascinating not only for the use of ascetics and religious figures for purposes of the state, but also for its absolutely pragmatic view that these may serve as apt conduits of information.

A secondary aspect that is quite impressive is the cohesion of network that emerges – despite the textual disruptions – in the organisation. University students provide the know-how in their fields to ascetics, just as other farmers, traders and craftsmen benefit from the information. What emerges in this description is a seamless understanding of how various aspects of the society may be linked and interconnected for purposes of gathering information.

The third category – and a logical one for an ancient agrarian society – includes spies who are drawn from ranks of impoverished farmers or disguise themselves as such. These farmer-spies are again paid by the state and expected to report on the loyalties and discontents of the farming communities. In addition, the farmer-spy is expected to create a network of informants drawn not only from amongst the farmers (and thus, presumedly, landowners) but also amongst the farm labourers.

The fourth category links up to the farmers, as it draws on the traders and business communities. Here, Chanakya again suggests recruiting an impoverished or unsuccessful trader and/or businessman. These spies are not only expected to recruit a network of business informants but also use their travels for business to gather intelligence on other entrepreneurs, market conditions and discontents.

The final category links back to the role of ascetics and are concerned with religious leaders who live in ashrams. However, here the instructions are far more specific: these religious leaders are expected to establish a peaceful and attractive ashram near major urban centres.

Initially, they should at least provide the impression of austerity. This practice of visible austerity is meant not for any spiritual purpose but rather to impress the local populace and diminish the respect they have for any other local ashram or teacher.

Interestingly enough, the ashram should make use of other spies to not only discover secrets of the populace but also the weakness of other religious institutions and leaders. These secrets can then be utilised for fortune-telling, counselling and persuasion (sounds like blackmail, but if it works…). The guru ought to also conspire with the state in order to predict accidents and calamities which can then be ‘proven’ by action on part of the state. From some of the commentaries on the text, these predicted acts seem to include acts of arson, poisoning and mysterious deaths which are obviously assassinations carried out by the state.

Within the text itself, the examples of ‘fortune-telling’ include predicting government honours and rewards for specific citizens which have been agreed upon earlier with the state. This may appear devious but logical if convoluted pragmatism embodied by the text.

Indeed the pragmatism of the text extends to the final verses of this chapter which explain the suggested course of action based on the internal intelligence provided by this spy network.

Chanakya suggests that should intelligence reveal that a citizen or organisation has been upset unintentionally by the ruler or the state, there must be an honest attempt made to address these complaints and bring the discontent elements back into the fold. The state may use rewards, economic reparations, or honours to allay a justifiable grievance.

However, in case of those who are discontent without justifiable reason, or cannot be persuaded otherwise, the state must use the intelligence apparatus to dispatch them. For this brutal if expedient remedy, the text suggests using accidents, apparently criminal assault or a confrontation between two opposing groups which may serve as cover for the assassination. (More on the art of assassination later as Chanakya goes into vast detail further on).

Before ending the chapter, Chanakya points out that a ruler ought to learn from the spies about those who are trustworthy and reward them appropriately. In contrast, the disloyal ought to be removed with as little fuss as possible as the ruler should not waste resources on them, and instead should focus on matter of the state and welfare of the people.

The next chapter deals with the second category of itinerant spies, with four specific classifications. Hope to get to that soon.

Structure and Role of the Intelligence Apparatus in Statecraft: Part 1

Chapter 10 and 11 of Book 1 comprise some of my favourites. However, they are very detailed and so require a short over view, especially as they cover so much ground that a straight reading and translation of the verses is not sufficient for understanding.

Both chapters cover the kinds of spies, their recruitment, roles, rewards, as well as structures of a king's espionage apparatus. Unfortunately either through time or due to loss of text, the sequence of discussion is particularly non-linear and therefore slightly confusing. But this may also be attributed to Chanakya's knowledge of certain activities and philosophies that he takes for granted and thus does not necessarily explain.

Chanakya begins by classifying nine different kinds of spies, each with a particular role and status. However, he also explains the structure of a state's intelligence apparatus, which he divides into two specific categories.

The first category is made up for five different kinds of spies that Chanakya describes as a king's five eyes. Interestingly enough, these first five are primarily deployed for internal intelligence and are meant to monitor the cabinet, influential persons of the realm as well as the general tendencies and levels of discontent in the populace. These first five are also distinguished by their primarily stationary deployment; that is, they are deployed for collecting intelligence in long-term, sometimes sleeper, capacities and are meant to report back to the king from their posts.

The second category, made up of four kinds of spies, are those who are deployed for short terms and in transitory capacity. These four kinds travel, move around, and may even be deployed in realms beyond their own.

Chanakya differentiates these two kinds of espionage by describing the first as "sanstha" and the second as "sanchaar." This may be considered an early form of dividing intelligence operators into headquarters vs field operatives, although Chanakya is quite clear that even the stationary, long term spies must have only limited knowledge of other parts of the intelligence apparatus. This, in many ways, is a function more of size than modernity, as maintaining a small core of intelligence analysts who could make sense of the information sent back is only possible when a small amount of data is generated.

However, Chanakya is quite modern on another aspect: he is quite emphatic about limiting the ways in which information is transmitted, as well as, on the paramount importance of maintaining minimum contact between different levels of espionage hierarchy. In practical terms, this means that the stationary spies communicate with only the layer above them and do not know of the various other members of the apparatus. Similarly, the high status spies - business leaders, aristocrats or intellectual - only communicate with the head of intelligence or directly with the king.

Moreover, Chanakya suggests that all kinds of people, including students, teachers, ascetics, entertainers, jugglers, beggars, traders, farmers, and so on can be recruited to serve as spies with different roles, inducements and rewards. Here it must be noted that Chanakya also makes a clear case for not only recruiting members of all classes and "castes" but also insists that spies be able to take on the necessary markers of other classes and "castes" as required (a prescient take on Rudyard Kipling's fantastic Kim here).

He is also surprisingly inclusive regarding the use of mentally and physically disabled people for gathering intelligence, acknowledging in a deeply practical manner, that many of these are least likely to be suspected. This also echoes Chanakya's organisation of the king's internal circles of protection which also include the physically and mentally challenged. In this second case, Chanakya is even more brutal in his reasoning, pointing out that gratitude may make such defenders more fierce in their loyalty to the king and thus better equipped than the able-bodied warriors.

One final point in this overview of the intelligence structure explained by Chanakya must be made as it again contradicts the simplistic notions that women were necessarily isolated or indeed marginalised in classical Indian society. Not only does Chanakya list women in the listing of nine kinds of spies, he also gives them an interesting and key mandate.

According to Chanakya, women spies must be the only conduit of information between the stationary and roaming branches of espionage, thus forming the sole crucial link between the two branches of intelligence gathering. Furthermore, in case of the "sanchaari" (roaming) spies, he insists that women spies have the responsibility of transmitting and/or transferring the gathered information to the king. In fact, Chanakya spends a fair amount of time explaining all the tactics by which the female spy can be contacted and given information by the other members of the espionage team.

This final point regarding the use of female spies flies in the face of modern (and primarily Western inspired) structures of intelligence agencies which use women for honey traps but have rarely given them executive power (the former MI5 chief is one exception). However, it echoes the view that informs the Russian security policy of "shoot the women first" in counter-insurgency operations. Chanakya makes the point elsewhere in the text which is shared at least in part by the modern Russian state that women warriors (and obviously spies) are more loyal and committed to the cause.

While I will take up the specifics of Chanakya's view on the intelligence apparatus in the next couple of posts, I believe that the most salient point raised by these chapters, is the inclusivity shown by the text which contradicts some of the post-imperialist ideas of ancient Indian history, developed over the past 200 years.

Vetting the Cabinet: Ancient Techniques for a Modern Necessity

Book 1, Chapter 9 continued...

Quick recap of the four techniques that Chanakya provides for vetting members of a king's cabinet:

1. Test on grounds of virtue or righteousness or the test of dharma,
2. Test on grounds of greed or the test of artha,
3. Test based on physical lust or pleasure, or the test of kama,
4. Test based on fear, or the test by bhaya.

Once again, Chanakya reverts to his four key pillars of governance: wisdom, wealth, punishment and secrecy. It is also useful to link back these four tests to the four purusharthas discussed earlier in this blog, with the final test - of fear - linking to the most intrinsic yet subtle motivations for human life (moksha). This fourth - link between bhaya and moksha - is the most interesting philosophical leaps in Chanakya's work moving from political philosophy to issues of cultural ideals; I hope to develop further in the reading.

In the second part of this current chapter, Chanakya explains the appointments that ought to follow successes in each of these tests. Once again, this suggests that a king may vet cabinet members for their strengths and weakness on all or any of these grounds. More interesting is the assumption that failure on one of the tests does not necessarily bar a person from occupying a government post, but rather is used as a guide to the most appropriate government portfolios.

According to Chanakya, here are the appointments based on successes of each of the four varieties of tests:

1. Those who successfully pass the test of dharma ought to be appointed to positions dealing with law enforcement, including the judiciary. In fact, these candidates are best suited, according to the philosopher, for duties that require ethical rigour but also potentially very difficult decisions of violent punishments.

2. Those who successfully pass the test of artha are to be appointed to fiscal positions, in charge of treasury, tax collection, revenue generation and other functions in the state's management of finances.

3. Those who successfully pass the test of kama are to be appointed to oversee functioning of businesses and enterprises linked to luxury, including pleasure houses, courtesans, gambling, liquor production, and management of controlled substances in the state. In addition, these candidates are also best suited to manage the king's own living and working quarters.

An aside: I find this the most fascinating aspect of Chanakya's treatise: he views unsavoury activities as not to be banned but to be regulated by the state and thus made to contribute to the treasury. I find the innate practicality of this stance far more to my tastes than the Abrahamic texts informed and morality based laws that most states (especially western democracies and modern India) attempt to implement.

4. Those who pass the test of bhaya must be appointed to defence, protection and security areas of the goverment.

Chanakya recommends that those who pass all four tests should be granted ministerial or senior positions within the king's cabinet.

However, in a display of ruthless realpolitik, he points out that those who fail these tests are not necessarily to be discarded. Instead, he recommends that those fail the four tests ought to be appointed to manage far flung enterprises including forestry and mining, both areas that are labour intensive as well as removed from the court and capital. In context of Chanakya's later discussion of political assasssinations, this also suggests that the king may decided to get rid of such disloyal advisors in a politically expedient way without giving rise to criticism or controversy.

Once again, Chanakya refers to earlier theorists and points out that the king must also take into account the abilities and talents of those who have passed the tests and appoint them accordingly to appropriate posts. So simply passing a temperament test ought not to be the sole criterion for appointment!

Moreover, Chanakya also calls on earlier theorists (once again indicating that much of earlier political thought is now lost to us) to emphasise a key point: at no point in the tests should the king allow himself or the consort to be used in any way. This distance ensures that no ill-feeling is attached to the king and an impression of equality is maintained in the court.

He provides a further warning to the king in carrying out the four tests, advising that these be done with a maximum level of discretion. Using the metaphor of poison dissolved in water, he points out that sometimes, the mere accusation of misbehaviour or disloyalty may prompt a person to behave in that manner.

To ensure that such a person can be contained and brought back into the fold, the king must retain a distance from those conducting the test. While the secret service of the state may be used, it is necessary that the royal house remain above the practical machinations of governance, if not in practice then in image.

This chapter begins to address one of the key points of Chanakya's statecraft teachings: that of the use of secret service and spies. As mentioned earlier, secrecy is one of the four key pillars for his statecraft policy. However, unlike many later (and Western) political thinkers, Chanakya is quite clear about the ways in which spies may be used for internal and external policy making and implementation.

The next chapter begins to enter into details of formation of secret service and appointment of spies.

Till very soon...

Vetting the King's Cabinet: Ancient Techniques for a Modern Necessity

First of all, apologies for the long silence since my last post. Unfortunately bureaucratic matters have taken up a lot of the past couple of months. However, onwards...

Book 1, Chapter 9:

Quite contrary to the modern practise of vetting cabinet appointments and advisors before their appointment, this chapter suggests secret ways of testing the loyalty of key appointments after they have taken up their posts. However, unlike the current practice, the vetting is meant to not check up on potential, background or indeed character traits but rather ensure loyalty and appropriate behaviour once the advisors have taken up their positions. For this, Chanakya suggests three key ways of testing loyalties and behaviour of cabinet members. Moreover, he provides specific instructions for each of these.

Before describing each of the tests, it is necessary to note that the motivations and ideas for these are guided once again by the crucial principle of the "purusharthas."

The first of these is under a very curious definition of "the virtuous solution" or the "test of virtue" or "Dharma" Chanakya suggests that the king reach a secret agreement with the royal priest and find a false pretext for dismissing him/her from the post, thus freeing the priest to appear as the injured party and carry out a secret task.

In turn, the priest then approaches any suspicious advisor, or indeed all advisors in turn, to declare the king as lacking in virtue and incapable of governance. The priest also suggests that the king ought to be replaced by a better person, determined by all the advisors. The priest must also misinform the advisors that he has spoken to the rest of the cabinet who are in agreement with such a seditous plan.

Here it is crucial to note that kingship was not necessarily determined solely by lineage in classical India. A system of limited democracy seems to have prevailed amongst the elite members of the court. In other parts of the region, a rudimentary form of democracy allowed the people to choose and/or dethrone the ruler. This early system survived at least in some of the Rajputana till the medieval era, with documents from the Sisodia court at Chittorgarh suggesting that the nobles played a crucial part in the ascension of a king.

Chanakya continues with his "test of virtue" by explaining that once a traitor is identified, mostly by his/her gullibility and agreement to the plan proposed by the royal priest, the king should soon after ensnare that advisor in some scandal and relieve him of his post.

Here it is crucial to note that, in the whole process, the advisor is never confronted openly, nor is there any suggestion of a public trial. Instead, the advisor is simply dispatched, gently and on other pretexts. This route does allow the king a lot of discretion in not only removing an advisor from the cabinet but also re-instating them to an equal or higher post should the circumstances change.

The second test is the "test of greed" (or Artha). For this test, the king uses his military chief for a similar purpose, first dismissing him and then allowing him to incite other cabinet members to rebellion. The difference here is the motivation: unlike the priest who uses persuasion and accusations of a lack of virtue against the king, the military chief is granted state funds to lure any treacherous advisors. The military chief uses the spy services to contact the cabinet members, offering them lucre in exchange for their support. The traitors are again dismissed from their posts on false charges.

The third test is the "test of lust" (or Kama). For this test, the king makes use of a female ascestic who is closely linked with the royal family and the court. Indeed, in context of Chanakya's civil code which suggests an ease of divorces, prevalence of remarriages, as well as no particular disfavour attached to widowhood, this may suggest a possible area where middle-aged or older single women - widowed or divorced - were politically active.

The ascetic establishes contact with the advisors, and sets up a honey trap. She lures the advisor with sexual intimacy, but then offers potential for money, progress, status as rewards for the advisor revolting against the king.

The fourth technique is a "test of fear." For this, the king uses one advisor who organises a boat trip, hunting trip or some other entertainment. The king not only prohibits the entertainment but also insults the organiser publicly. After this, the kings' spies approach the disappointed and annoyed advisors in guise of young students who wish for an uprising against an unjust king.

In this final option, the use of students or "brahmacharis" or those who have not yet come of age is of particular interest. I have found no other explanation in other texts, but the verse itself suggests that this last technique may work best for the younger advisors who are likely to be angered or disappointed easily.

In the remaining verses, Chanakya specifies the kinds of tasks that should be granted to the advisors who pass each test. The phrasing of these verses suggests that the advisors may be re-instated in specific positions should they fail one test but succeed in another. One risk, to me at least, of this technique is that the king may spend his first months or year in office with constant cabinet reshuffles. But, perhaps, this is a less risky option than having poor or disloyal advisors occupying the wrong office.

I hope to post the second half of the chapter later in the week. Till then, keep well.

Key principles of Other Cabinet Appointments

Book 1, Chapter 8 (cont’d):

After exhaustively listing all the necessary qualities and qualifications for the prime minister, Chanakya uses the rest of this chapter for discussing other cabinet appointments as well as the selection of the royal priest.

Oddly enough, after the exhaustive list provided in the first verse regarding the prime minister’s post, the rest of the chapter seems rather perfunctory. It appears that Chanakya assumes that the king will apply the basics as pointed out earlier to the rest of his/her cabinet.

However, he does emphasise that the king must investigate the background, attitudes, loyalties and abilities of those he plans on appointing to cabinet posts. This verse seems to posit the necessity of “background checks” for all cabinet ministers, as the candidate’s aptness for the post must be confirmed by speaking with neighbours, colleagues, friends, and others in his private and professional circles.

More importantly, this background check is not only intended for politically expedient motives of confirming loyalties or ideological views. Instead, the check should be to confirm the candidate’s knowledge and abilities as well as his/her ways of thinking and acting. Indeed, here Chanakya suggests that debating competitions, professional tests and social gatherings ought to be used to test a candidate’s self-confidence, problem-solving style and aptitude, as well as their personal characteristics of patience, determination and leadership qualities.

A final point: Chanakya suggests that the king meet the candidate personally to determine their ability to not only be “sweet-spoken” but also to check for the capacity for vengefulness. I suppose after the gruelling tests the candidate would have been subjected to by this point, testing for vengefulness is a good idea!

I am beginning to wonder whether Chanakya had developed an HR competencies form and interview process? If so, it would possibly be the earliest and most comprehensive one in existence.

There is a quick digressive verse at this point in the chapter where Chanakya points out that the king has three bases for decision-making: first hand data gathered by personally witnessing an act; second hand information brought to the ruler by others; and finally, the experience gained by successfully completing a task which then provides experiential basis for any future tasks of a similar nature.

This difference is necessary for a ruler to keep in mind as no one human being is capable of carrying out all the tasks necessary for successfully running a kingdom. The king must successfully delegate administrative responsibilities or suffer two major adverse consequences: become overburdened by duties, and lose confidence of the cabinet who begin to believe that they are untrustworthy. For these reasons, stead, a king must know how to appoint the best cabinet possible to carry out the necessary duties.

Not surprisingly, as a final point, Chanakya points out a rather selfish advantage of appointing a good cabinet: the unpopular decisions are seen as being taken by the minister rather than the king, thus sparing him from popular anger.

Hmmmm... I am beginning to see that the Con-Lib coalition is making full use of this idea. In fact, I would highly recommend that Nick Clegg read Chanakya, if only to learn how to survive the Cameron-realpolitik.

The final verse in this chapter addresses the issue of appointing the royal priest. Here the interesting point is not only that the list of qualities required contains the usual knowledge of the four Vedas and astrology, as well as meditative abilities, but that the royal priest must also be fully knowledgeable in political sciences (Chanakya uses the term “dand-niti” or the term for political theory and practice here).

Of course, in addition to the personal qualities, the royal priest must also be “high born” suggesting that family lineage of the priest may provide political advantage to the king. Perhaps, here Chanakya is aware of his own times when Chandragupta Maurya lacked the family connections that may have provided political leverage in his newly acquired empire? Furthermore, Chanakya suggests that the king must maintain filial relationship with the royal priest, treating him like a teacher (guru) or father. Again, echoes of the personal?

A strange aside in this verse: that the king should trust the royal priest with his personal safety. This definitely suggests that for Chanakya, the royal priest not only has a religious and spiritual function but also a political and possibly even a military one. In conjunction with the earlier statement about choosing a high born candidate, this may suggest that Chanakya was fully aware of the “warrior-priest” phenomenon and even quite supportive of this, albeit not in a royal role.

His stand seems to go against the grain as much of the Indian political tradition warns against “priest-kings” or those who combine the Brahmin-Kshatriya traits. However, this verse seems to suggest that although the combination would be dangerous (and possibly totalitarian) in case of the king, it can be followed through in case of the royal priest by appointing a candidate with Kshatriya-Brahmin values.

The final verse explains the advantages of appointing the appropriate royal priest. A good royal priest not only protects the king but also ensures that the deities are kept content with the appropriate rituals. Finally, a successful royal priest ensures that the poor in the realm are kept loyal and happy by ensuring that wealth is redistributed amongst them.

This ends the theoretical aspect of cabinet appointments. The next chapter appears to be taken from a classical human resources manual as it explains the processes of testing the cabinet candidates.

Hope to be able to post on that chapter very soon so watch this space!