Transformative Tears: Genesis’s Joseph and Mengzi’s Shun

Abstract

By comparing two significant characters in a Biblical and a Confucian story, respectively, this article examines how the two traditions referred to share a common understanding of what “reconciliation” is meant to be. I compare Joseph in Genesis and Shun in the Mencius, focusing on how their crying contributes to familial reconciliation. The comparison raises anthropological commonalities between these narratives concerning structures of violence and the process of personal transformation leading to interpersonal reconciliation. There is particular emphasis on the significance of emotions: the way in which tearful emotions are expressed and perceived functions either as cause (Shun) or effect (Joseph) of the aggressor’s transformation, thus triggering the reconciliatory process. Following the suggested interpretation of these narratives as historic encounters between cultures of different provenance, the commonalities found in both approaches to reconciliation can potentially serve as a source of inspiration for present-day relations between religions and civilizations.

1. Introduction

Do they weep and cry, the powerful figures who shape the political and economic course of events? How often do we see the prominent personalities of our time—the influential and successful—shed any tears? A public display of painful emotions seems to be reserved for those perceived as losers, for marginalized and unimportant players who are rarely seen on the global stage today. “Given our current context of insensible neoliberal globalization”, crying and the public expression of suffering seems “useless” (Laguna 2024, p. 4).

The revered personalities of past traditions, however, are of a different breed. Indeed, there are great weepers among their ranks. This comparative study focuses on two such figures: Joseph, from the Biblical book Genesis, and Shun, as depicted in the Confucian classic Mencius. Their tears are not futile; rather, they bring to the fore a process that, amid the widespread inequalities and conflicts of our time, appears to be no less threatened than the display of mournful emotions itself, namely, reconciliation.

The following discussion will explore the reasons for Joseph’s and Shun’s weeping, as well as the importance of their tears towards the reconciliation of their families. The method of analysis differs in the two texts. In the case of Joseph, the analysis is confined to the story explicitly dedicated to his person, which is reconstructed according to the sequence of his sevenfold weeping. In the case of Shun, the analysis follows Mengzi’s dialogues with alternating interlocutors and on various topics, attempting to understand Mengzi’s emotional portrait of Shun in the larger context. The profound commonalities between the two narratives, their two main protagonists, and the implied notions of reconciliation are synthesized in the conclusion.

2. Why Does Joseph Weep and Cry?

2.1. The Joseph Narrative in Context

The story of Joseph (יוֹסֵ֗ף) is of eminent importance in the Hebrew tradition. It is embedded in the story of his father Jacob that represents half of the first book of the Hebrew Bible (Genesis 25–50) and is simultaneously part of the family narration of Abraham (from Gen 12). A pattern of conflict runs through the four generations from Abraham to Isaac to Jacob and Joseph: Preferential parental love towards one of their sons causes rivalry to arise between brothers. In fact, the book of Genesis (בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית, “in the beginning”) presents this pattern as a primal human conflict starting with the original human family and its pair of brothers, Cain and Abel (Gen 4). In the triangular relationship between Jacob as father, his preferred son, Joseph, and the eleven brothers of the latter, this bias is resolved (Krochmalnik 2001, p. 13). The significance of Joseph’s figure lies in the fact that, at the end of Genesis, he creates the positive dynamic of reunification which replaces the negative dynamic of family division developed throughout the book. It is during Joseph’s and his brothers’ generation that the conflicts of their fathers are finally overcome.1 In the Hebrew tradition, the story of Joseph speaks like no other of the possibility to transit from conflict to reconciliation.

2.2. Method of Reading and Background Story

This reconciliation process has its narrative center in chapters 42–45 in which Joseph’s reunion, after two decades, first with his brothers and then with his father, is described. This article will focus on the dynamic between them and specifically on the instances of weeping that occur. In the reunion with his brothers, Joseph weeps (בכה, bkh; (Gesenius 1915, p. 98)) repeatedly, more precisely seven times.2 Here, the same question arises that Mengzi is asked about Shun: “Why was it that he wept and cried?” (Mengzi 5A1).

An understanding of the background is needed. In Gen 42, Joseph’s ten half-brothers suddenly appear in Egypt, the place where he had built up a new life far away from the land of Canaan where he once lived with the rest of the family. These very half-brothers had planned to murder him two decades earlier (Chapter 37). At the intervention of Reuben, the first-born, they had finally decided not to kill him with their own hands. “‘Shed no blood’, said Reuben to them, ‘throw him down that well out in the desert, but do not kill him yourselves’” (37:22).3 Joseph is then sold to merchants who bring him to Egypt. After turbulent years, he eventually rises to become “the man in authority over the country” (Gen 42:6) with the title of Vizier of Egypt, the second most powerful person after the Pharaoh (Speiser 1964, p. 314). During a famine, his brothers travel to Egypt to secure food, not knowing anything about the fate of Joseph. In fact, it is Joseph who “allocated the rations to the entire population” (42:6) and is responsible for the distribution of grain to the travelers. When the brothers ask for supplies, it is none other than Joseph whom they unwittingly address: “Joseph recognized his brothers, but they did not recognize him” (42:8).4

Here starts a process of personal transformation and relational reconciliation, presented in a dense, closely knit, and complex story. Using recognized methods of narrative analysis, the reconciliatory dynamic between the protagonists is reconstructed below.5

2.3. Maturation, Denial, and Trial

2.3.1. Maturation

The beginning of the core passage is marked by a change in scene (Fischer 2010, p. 109)—the narrative shifts from the homeland Canaan to the foreign land Egypt (42:5). In parallel, a sharp contrast is drawn between Joseph and his half-brothers—Joseph has matured and assumed a different character, while the brothers are still their old selves, stuck with their former flaws.

At the time of his brothers’ arrival in Egypt, Joseph is in a position of strength and power. The text emphasizes that the brothers “come” to Egypt, stated from Joseph’s point of view (42:5).6 From here on, the narrative is primarily described from Joseph’s perspective: he determines the course of events; the brothers are in his hands, just as he was in theirs before (Chapter 37). He could have revealed himself to them immediately in order to reproach them, take revenge, and “rejoice in their humiliation and his triumph” (Jacob 1934, p. 763) as he had done before: years earlier, when still in Canaan, he had told his brothers about dreaming of their sheaves gathering around and prostrating before his sheaf (37:7), and the image of celestial bodies in the same vein (37:9). He presented these dreams and the entailed claim to superiority without taking his brothers’ sensitivities into consideration. They had envied him anyway, because they could see “how much more his father loved him than all his other sons” (37:4). Joseph’s lack of empathy contributed to them “hating him even more, on account of his dreams and of what he said” (37:8)7. It is in response to this incident that the half-brothers decided to kill “the dreamer” (37:19), a plan they eventually changed to selling him as a slave. Upon the brothers’ arrival in Egypt and their bowing before him (42:6), Joseph remembers his now fulfilled dreams (42:9); yet his way of dealing with them reveals how Joseph has changed. He does not use the unexpected twist of fate and fulfillment of his dreams in triumph against his brothers.

Joseph’s transformation is presented through a narrative technique (Fischer 2000a, p. 32; 2010, p. 105ff). Three shortcomings narrated in Genesis 37 are juxtaposed with three experiences of maturation in chapters 39–41. The three flaws eluded to in Ch. 37 are the following: (a) slander: he speaks ill of the brothers in front of his father (37:2); (b) lack of empathy: he relates his dreams of greatness in front of his brothers without realizing that he is stirring up their jealousy (37:5); and (c) lack of initiative: he does not obey his father’s command, but instead replies “Look at me!” (הִנֵּֽנִי, literally “see me”, 37:13),8 causing his father to repeat the command, a fact emphasized linguistically by a new introduction to the speech and a repetition of the command (37:14). These three flaws are reversed in chapters 39, 40 and 41. (a) He has a first-hand experience of the slander he inflicted on the brothers when he is wrongly accused of a moral offense (Chapter 39). (b) Thereupon thrown into prison, he shows a new sensitivity: he observes Pharaoh’s officials, sees their sad faces with empathy, addresses them proactively, and helps them read their dreams; thus, his own misguided approach to dreams qualifies him as a dream interpreter later (Chapter 40). (c) On his own initiative, he develops a program to alleviate the famine (Chapter 41), thereby signaling his readiness to take responsible action. Thus, Chapters 39–41 describe the three-step remedying of Joseph’s shortcomings: from slander, insensitivity, and disobedience to humility, empathy, and responsibility.9

2.3.2. Denial

In contrast, the depiction of the brothers shows they have not undergone any significant change. They introduce themselves as “We are all sons of the same man. We are honest men” (42:11) and “‘Your servants were twelve brothers’, they said, ‘sons of the same man in Canaan, but the youngest is now with our father, and the other is no more’” (42:13).10 In all regards, the opposite of what they say is true. (a) They are not honest men. Having sold Joseph as slave, simply saying “one of us is no more” is in no way an honest statement. In addition, the phrase translated as “your servants were twelve brothers” (42:13) is a nominal clause that does not carry any grammatical indication of time in the Hebrew original version. The brothers’ first statement could even be understood as an outright lie: “We are twelve brothers”. Joseph, who knows the truth, realizes that they are withholding the truth. (b) They do not act as brothers in the true sense, as the youngest, Benjamin, is not among them. Benjamin, who like Joseph is also a son of Jacob’s preferred wife Rachel and hence his only full brother, was left behind with the father (Gen 42:4 “But Jacob did not send Joseph’s brother Benjamin with his brothers. ‘Nothing must happen to him’, he thought”). Jacob’s preferential love that once caused the brothers to hate Joseph (37:4) and plot to kill him (37:18) still divides them. (c) Consequently, they are not “all sons of the same man”, but rather unequal sons—in reality, their father regards his sons as belonging to two different classes (Fischer 2010, p. 111). Following his brothers’ self-introduction, Joseph notices that the family is still trapped in the same biased structure that caused his suffering in Ch. 37. There is still dishonesty on the brothers’ side, there is still division between them, and there is still reservation towards their father because of his unequal treatment.

2.3.3. Put to the Test

Since his brothers do not show any change, Joseph cannot immediately initiate reconciliation (Fischer 2010, p. 110). “This would not be reconciliation if they had remained the same” (Jacob 1934, p. 763). Reconciliation presupposes that both sides have overcome their dynamic which raises conflict. From Joseph’s point of view, it is only possible “if he knows that they have become others, i.e., in truth his brothers” (Jacob 1934, p. 766). Hence, he “did not make himself known to them” (42:7), stated more poignantly in Hebrew: “he pretended to be a stranger” (וַיִּתְנַכֵּ֨ר). Instead, he creates an opportunity for them to change by subjecting them to a test.

“This is the test you are to undergo: as sure as Pharaoh lives you shall not leave unless your youngest brother comes here. Send one of your number to fetch your brother; you others will remain under arrest, so that your statements can be tested to see whether or not you are honest.” (42:15f). After three days in captivity, he keeps one of the half-brothers as hostage and sends the rest to fetch Benjamin, his only full brother. Joseph’s harsh conduct towards his half-brothers is open to various interpretations. In the broader context, the most coherent reading is that Joseph’s intentions are not rooted in retribution or vengeance, but rather in the preparation for the reconciliation he has envisaged from the outset (Jacob 1934, p. 765ff). What Joseph calls a test is actually a healing process aimed at their inner guilt (Chapter 37): a flaw in their ability to relate to one another.11

The brothers’ trial unfolds in two ways.12 First, Joseph subjects them to the injustice that they had done to him: just as they had detained him with the intention of killing him, they now experience imprisonment, also under threat of death (42:18–20). On the other hand, he recreates the situation in which they had sinned against him: they are again faced with the decision to leave one brother behind (Fischer 2010, p. 113).

The relational problems unknowingly revealed by the brothers in their introduction become the content of the test that they undergo. Can they be honest? Do they unite as brothers? Are they sons of equal standing, equally accepting their common father and equally accepted by him? Having observed their flaws in these three respects, Joseph enables them to mature in these three respects. Eventually their words will be truthful because they will become what they claim to be.13 Next, this article will illuminate the three phases of this test, each phase concluding in Joseph’s weeping. Hence, the following reconstruction of the story of Joseph is organized by two parallel markers: the phases of the brothers’ transformation and the instances of Joseph’s crying.

2.4. The Tears of Joseph

2.4.1. First Weeping: Honesty

As the brothers held captive are confronted with the injustice they did to Joseph, they begin to shift towards honesty: “And they said to one another, ’Clearly, we are being punished for what we did to our brother. We saw his deep misery when he pleaded with us, but we would not listen, and now this misery has come home to us’” (42:21). They see a direct connection between their guilt and their fate: “Now comes the accounting” (42:22). Their own distress in captivity enables the brothers to remember the distress they had inflicted and even physically feel it to the point of “panic” (42:28). When they experience a change in perspective as their own actions turn back on them, they can acknowledge what they had done to Joseph. Seeing and hearing this, Joseph “turned away from them and wept” (42:24).

Here, Jospeh’s crying expresses his reaction to an observed transformation in the others (Jacob 1934, p. 771f). This marks the success of the first part of the test: “So that your statements can be tested to see whether or not you are honest” (42:16). The brothers have at least demonstrated to be honest with each other. It will take more time before they can be honest with Joseph as well: later, they still speak of their dead brother instead of acknowledging their offense (44:20), and it is not until the very end of the story that they are able to ask Joseph for forgiveness (50:17). However, Joseph observes their admission to each other, the first important step.

2.4.2. Second Weeping: Brotherhood

In order to persuade his father to let Benjamin go, Joseph takes a hostage. He wants to force Benjamin’s arrival. “He chose Simeon out of their number and had him bound while they looked on” (Gen 42:24)14. The text underlines how the brothers perceive what Joseph is doing to Simeon. He subjects his brothers to a sensorial experience to induce a shift from the aggressor’s to the victim’s perspective. The fact that sensorial experience has the power to evoke emotions and trigger a change in perspective will be a central point of comparison with the Mencius.

Back in Canaan, the brothers at first cannot convince their father to let his preferred son leave. Quite tellingly, he accuses his sons of admitting the existence of yet another brother to Joseph. “Why did you bring this misery on me by telling the man you had another brother?” (43:6). The brothers’ answer is striking: “He kept questioning us about ourselves and our family, asking, ‘Is your father still alive?’ and ‘Have you another brother?’ That is why we told him” (43:7). Here, the brothers are simply honest. The text thus emphasizes that dishonesty is a family problem from which the brothers have been able to free themselves through their trial, whereas the father has yet to undergo a process of transformation. But pressed by the hardship of hunger15 and the persuasion of his sons, especially Judah, Jacob ultimately lets Benjamin go.

This “letting go” (מְשַׁלֵ֖חַ) represents Jacob’s transformation (Fischer 2010, p. 112). He has given up his preference for one of his sons. It was precisely this kind of preferential love that had caused much suffering in the family. Jacob’s release of Benjamin has both (a) transgenerational and (b) biographical significance. (a) Like his ancestor Abraham, he received the promise of countless descendants (28:13ff) and like Abraham (22:1ff), Jacob is able to forego its fulfilment. He accepts the possibility of losing not only his most beloved, but all his sons.16 “As for me, if I must be bereaved, bereaved I must be” (43:14). Moreover, preferential parental love had been transmitted for generations (Fischer 2010, p. 92). (b) For Jacob, giving up preferences among his sons also means reconciling himself with his own past in two ways. On the one hand, as he was treating the sons of Leah and Rachel unequally, he still held on to his preferential love for Rachel whom Laban once misused to force him into many more years of labor (29:25). Jacob had clung to the injustice done to him, but at long last, he overcomes Laban’s betrayal. On the other hand, he had repeated an injustice inflicted on him by his father. Isaac had preferred Jacob’s twin brother Esau (25:28). Fraternal jealousy had caused discord since Cain and Abel (4:8). Jacob is finally ready to heal the structural wound of generations: preferential love. Jacob releases Benjamin from the “prison” of paternal preferential love to enter brotherly relationships on an equal level. Now, when they say that they are “all brothers” they are speaking the truth.

Immediately after seeing Benjamin, Joseph weeps for the second time. “Joseph hurried out; so strong was the affection he felt for his brother that he wanted to cry. He went into his room and there he wept” (43:30). Again, his crying is caused by witnessing a step of transformation on behalf of his brothers and his family. The text emphasizes his emotions: “His feelings glowed with hot excitement” (כמר Baumgartner and Köhler 1995, p. 459; 43:30) may constitute a more literal translation. This weeping is also marked by unique lexical features: the Hebrew text states that Joseph is “searching to cry” (וַיְבַקֵּ֖שׁ לִבְכּ֑וֹת). This wording appears nowhere else in the Hebrew Bible and different interpretations are possible.17 It might show Joseph’s strong desire for reconciliation since he cannot allow free rein to his feelings yet. He longs for the reconciliation that is in the offing but still requires a further step.

2.4.3. Third and Fourth Crying: Filiality

At this point, further development in the triangular relationship between Jacob, Joseph, and his brothers is about to take place. The focus is now on the relationship between the sons and their father. Joseph creates a situation similar to the brothers’ crime upon him (Chapter 37). A ruse (Dietrich 1989, p. 34) enables him to accuse Benjamin of theft, to keep him as a slave, and to offer the brothers a return to their father (44:17). They are now faced with the same choice that they had back then: do they once again exclude their father’s preferred half-brother and return to their father without him? In contrast to the past, they would not seem to be called guilty, they would not have to lie to their father and could justify their return by bringing him the vital food supply.

This time, instead of saving their lives by sacrificing Benjamin, the brothers insist on going into servitude with him. This is an even more striking gesture as they are ignorant of his innocence. They choose brotherhood over self-interest. More importantly, they act on behalf of their father by aligning their behavior with his feelings. The text stylistically reflects this aspect: Judah utters a long speech, the longest in the whole book of Genesis, in which he offers himself up to let all the others return home.18 In his speech, their father has the most prominent position—he mentions him 14 times.19 Judah openly addresses the problem of Jacob’s exclusive love for Rachel and paternal preference for Benjamin (44:27ff), and still calls him “my father” (44:34). His ability to reproduce his father’s past statements verbatim shows respect and esteem, but also obedience and sense of duty. Whereas the brothers did not care about Jacob’s pain losing Joseph, Judah is full of empathy this time: “How indeed could I go back to my father and not have the boy with me? I could not bear to see the misery that would overwhelm my father” (44:34). This statement is ever more significant given that shortly before, Jacob had spoken of Benjamin as his only son, as if Judah and his brothers did not exist (42:38). Judah thus overcomes an egocentric disposition that belonged to his father in the first place: Jacob always had a need to be first, as is already evident before his birth (25:22) and at birth (25:26), and which leads him to misfortune, including the betrayal of his brother Esau (25:29ff, 27:1ff). As Joseph and his brothers overcome the inherited disposition of brotherly envy, they accept their father as he is (Fischer 2010, p. 114). A sense of solidarity grows. Here, Judah and Benjamin are in the spotlight: Judah, because he can express this transformation in his speech like none of the other brothers can do. And Benjamin, because he was, so to speak, a victim of his father’s excessive exclusive love, from which he is now freed—Benjamin is the only one apart from Joseph who also weeps when reconciliation finally takes place (45:14).

Witnessing this transformation in his brothers, Joseph reacts with a twofold crying: “Then Joseph could no longer control himself […] and he lifted up his voice with weeping” (45:1f)—first in the arms of his brother Benjamin (45:14) and then in the arms of all the other half-brothers (45:15). It is only now that Joseph cries in front of them. Before, he had always retreated when crying so that his brothers would not see it. Now they can see him cry. Showing feelings requires mutual trust, and this has been restored. Face-to-face communication between them is reestablished: “He kissed all his brothers, weeping on each one. Only then were his brothers able to talk to him”. (45:15). The text finally offers resolution to the conflict that follows Joseph’s dream message two decades earlier (Chapter 37). Only when everyone is finally treated equally can they speak to Joseph.

The brothers have undergone Joseph’s threefold “test” by maturing into what they had claimed to be in the very beginning: honest men, united brothers, and filial sons of their common father. In the first step, they develop a new honesty by admitting their guilt. In the second step, they persuade their father to overcome his exclusive love for Benjamin and can unite as brothers on an equal level. In the third step, they prove their brotherhood by overcoming brotherly envy and the need to be first by accepting Jacob as their common father.

2.4.4. Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Weeping: Completion of Reconciliation

Up to now, this article has covered four of the seven instances of crying. In each instance, Joseph’s tears were shed as a reaction to a transformation that he could observe in his brothers while undergoing his “test”. Having witnessed the unfolding of their transformation, he reveals himself to them. Rapprochement between brothers is now possible, but reconciliation of the whole family, including their father (and thus all the previous generations who suffered from the same structural pattern of parental preferential love and brotherly rivalry) is still some steps away. The article will proceed to briefly mention the three other instances of crying because they mark important steps in the process of family reconciliation.

Fifth crying: Father and son (46:29). The son, Joseph, and the father, Jacob, reunite. Their encounter is different compared to that of the brothers and deeply marked by filial piety. What makes it unique is the absence of speech. The Hebrew text states that Joseph “appeared to” Jacob. Jacob can finally “see” him. Joseph cries on Jacob’s neck, emphasized in the Hebrew text as a particularly “long-lasting” (עוד) crying.

Sixth crying: Death and healing (50:1). Upon seeing Jacob pass away, Joseph cries. Reconciliation has occurred, wounds have healed, the vicious circle has been broken, and the next generations are spared the structural problem instilled by their ancestors. The end of Jacob’s life symbolizes the end of a multigenerational conflict.

Seventh crying: Forgiveness and completion (50:17). The brothers claim that Jacob had a last wish, expressed in absence of Joseph: “‘You are to say to Joseph: ‘Now please forgive the crime and faults of your brothers and all the wrong they did you. So now please forgive the crime of the servants of your father’s God’. Joseph wept at the message they sent to him”. What is translated here as “forgive” literally reads “carry the offense/guilt” (נשׂא פשׁע). It is unclear whether Jacob really said these words. Stylistically, it seems improbable: In earlier instances, the narrator paid great attention to first presenting the father’s words in direct speech and then repeating the words by others in indirect speech (Coats 1976, p. 11, Fn. 9). On a relational level, too, it seems strange that Jacob prefers to talk to the brothers rather than to Joseph. The fact remains unclear. What is more important in this instance is that it is the first time a direct request for forgiveness has been expressed by the brothers towards Joseph. They had previously only admitted their guilt to each other, but not to him. This seems to be the final step towards lasting reconciliation. At the end of the first book of the Hebrew Bible, Genesis 50, a multigenerational family conflict that starts at the very beginning of the Bible, Gen 4, is resolved. The family is finally reconciled20.

3. Why Does Shun Weep and Cry?

3.1. Shun in the Mencius

Apart from the author Mengzi himself, Shun (舜 shùn) is the person most referred to in the Mencius, receiving 100 mentions spread over 40 of the 260 paragraphs.21 Mengzi frequently refers to Shun in fixed formats such as “the Way of Yao and Shun” (尧舜之道 yáo shùn zhī dào), thereby reinforcing Shun’s status in Chinese tradition: Shun is commonly held as one of the founders of Chinese civilization, a model of righteous living, and a prototypical political leader.22 Besides formulaic references, the Mencius contains passages that provide vivid narrations about Shun’s character, biography, and family, most prominently in Chapter 5A (万章上 wàn zhāng shàng). It is in these paragraphs that Mengzi develops his original interpretation of Shun, which goes beyond preexisting classical sources.23 Chapter 5A might be regarded as “the story of Shun” within the Mencius. The chapter starts off with a disciple of Mengzi asking his master: “When Shun went to the fields, weeping and crying out to merciful Heaven, why was it that he wept and cried?” (5A1).24 In the Mencius, Shun’s tears are the point of entry into the discussion of this character.

3.2. Grief and Longing: Concordance

What moved Shun to tears? “It was from grief and longing” (怨慕也 yuàn mù yě). This succinct answer of Mengzi in 5A1 needs contextual references to clarify its meaning. Attempts have been made to draw on paragraph 5A1, which lends a focus on filial piety as this is the main topic of the paragraph (Zhang Xianglong [张祥龙] 2014; Liu Yang [刘洋] 2016). Grief and longing (怨慕 yuàn mù) are then seen as “moral emotions” (道德情感 dào dé qíng gǎn) that motivate a “praxis of filial morality” (孝道实践 xiàodào shíjiàn) (Wang Wenjuan [王文娟] 2021). However, a closer analysis of the words grief and longing as a pair (1) and separately (2a; 2b) suggests going beyond 5A1 because both characters are closely linked to Shun throughout the whole Mencius.

(1) Grief and longing appear together once more in 6B3, notably again in combination with crying (泣 qì) and Shun’s name, just like in 5A1. Considering that the two characters for crying and longing are rarely used in the Mencius (in four and three paragraphs, respectively), the repeated appearance of this four-character set containing “grief”, “longing”, “crying” and “Shun” (怨, 慕, 泣, 舜) is notable.

(2) In addition, the independent occurrence of the characters outside this set are also linked to Shun:

(2a) Longing (慕 mù). Other possible translations include: “yearning” (Lau 2004) in 5A1); “full of earnest desire” (Legge 1895 in 5A1), “to affect” (Legge in 4A3), “ardent désire” (Vermander 2022, p. 182). The term is connected to Shun in all its appearances in the Mencius. Of its twelve occurrences in three paragraphs, seven are set in 5A1; once it appears in the last line of 6B3, featuring the same quote of Confucius with which 5A1 ends; and four times it appears in 4A6 where the interconnectedness of governing family, country, and world is discussed, a theme personified by Shun.

(2b) Grief (怨 yuàn), elsewhere translated as resentment (Bloom in 6B3)25, complaining (Lau), dissatisfaction (Legge), or recriminations (Vermander 2022, p. 182), appears more frequently and relates to Shun in all its occurrences as well: 11 of its 25 occurrences are set in paragraphs that explicitly name Shun, most prominently in Mengzi’s “story of Shun” in chapter 5A (5A1, 5A3, and 5A6), as well as in another central Shun passage, 6B3. All other occurrences are thematically linked to Shun by dealing with the ideal ruler (1A7, 1B5, 1B11, etc.) or the ideal servant (2A7, etc.). Shun is the prototype for both sides of such asymmetric relations, in the political sphere as well as in his family relationship.

This brief concordance suggests treating the words grief and longing as part of the technical terminology used by Mengzi for his emotional portrait of Shun. They activate a network of passages that explicitly or implicitly deal with Shun. Navigating through this web of references will shift the focus away from filial piety to a broader view of Mengzi’s depiction of Shun, of weeping, and of the underlying emotions and relational effects of tears. By doing so, this article attempts to address the dual question of (a) why Shun cries in particular, and (b) in more general terms, what significance Mengzi attaches to the expression of emotions26.

3.3. Speaking of Tears

Going beyond 5A1 in understanding grief and longing as the cause of crying, I first follow Mengzi’s term for “weeping and crying” (号泣 hào qì). The second character (泣 qì) is used seven times in four paragraphs, 5A1 with three appearances being the most important passage. Only in 5A1 is it used in combination with the first character (号 hào), a term that appears only once more in 6B4, though with a different meaning (“argument”, Bloom, Legge). This article will focus on the second character and in the course of this discussion touch upon each of its occurrences, all of which are connected to Shun.

The character crying (泣 qì, also “wailing”, Lau) appears in 4B33, the paragraph preceding 5A1. The Mencius proceeds associatively here, linking the key term of the last sentence in Ch. 4 to the first sentence of Ch. 5. This demonstrates the centrality of crying in Mengzi’s view of Shun: departing from crying and weeping, the topic naturally finds Shun.

In 4B33, a woman decides to check on her husband: “I will observe our good man and see where he goes. She arose early in the morning and followed her husband wherever he went”. The high-rank social interactions he is bragging about turn out to be a pretense—instead he is begging for food. The woman returns home and “together with the concubine she reviled the husband, and they wept together in the courtyard”. Why is it that they cry?

As Mengzi depicts it, the women are victim to aggression from the husband’s side. His dishonorable lifestyle and his lies are dishonoring his partners, so they “weep together in shame”. The man’s offense is all the more serious given the kind of relationship they are in, a relation of intimacy and asymmetrical dependence: “A husband is one to whom we look up and with whose life ours are forever bound. And now it turns out that he is like this”.

Events turn when the wife “observes and sees” (瞷 jiàn) the man’s true lifestyle. The term appears only once more in the Mencius, notably in the directly preceding paragraph, 4B32, which hints again at Mengzi’s associative style27: “Chuzi said, ‘The king sent someone to spy on the Master to see whether he was different from other people.’ Mencius said, ‘How should I be different from other people? Yao and Shun were the same as other people.’” In both paragraphs, the character “observe/spy and see” is about aiming to perceive the truth about another person. Paragraphs 4B33 and 4B32 are counter-stories showing two sides of the same idea. In 4B33, the perceived reality is not the same as the pretended persona, and the uncovering of the truth dishonors those who discover it as it inflicts shame on them; hence, they are moved to tears. In 4B32, in contrast, there are no false pretentions and no victim to be affected by dishonesty; hence, there are no tears.

First conclusion: Crying is an expression of emotions by someone facing harm in a close, asymmetric relationship.

3.4. Seeing, Blindness, and Interplay

3.4.1. Seeing and Humaneness

Paragraph 4B33, in showing how in the face of harm affective reactions are exposed (crying), presents the victim’s perspective. This theme is prominently discussed in another paragraph, 1A7, which is further linked to 5A1 through the term grief (怨 yuàn). Paragraph 1A7 adds a notion that 4B33 does not include, that is, the aggressor’s perspective: what is the backward effect of the victims’ affective reactions on the one inflicting harm? The guiding idea in 1A7 is the difference between “seeing” (见 jiàn) and “not seeing” (未见 wèi jiàn), determining the course of events three times:

First, seeing the suffering of a sacrificial animal causes the observing king to spare it. “On seeing this, the king asked where the ox was going and was told that it was being taken to serve as a blood sacrifice in the consecration of a bell. The king said, ‘Spare it. I cannot bear its trembling, like one who, though blameless, is being led to the execution ground’”.

Second, seeing the trembling of the ox in the face of harm to be inflicted on it is what distinguishes the king from those who have not seen it and hence misunderstand the reaction of the king. “Though the people all thought it was because the king grudged the ox, I know it was surely because the king could not bear to see its suffering”.

Third, the king then has the ox exchanged for a sheep, which in Mengzi’s eyes is fully compatible with the king’s sparing the ox because he did not see the sheep: “This was after all the working of humaneness—a matter of having seen the ox but not the sheep. This is the way of the noble person in regard to animals: if he sees them alive, then he cannot bear to see them die, and if he hears their cries, then he cannot bear to eat their flesh”.

The two words for “seeing” discussed above are pronounced the same (jiàn) but written differently (1A7: 见, 4B32, 4B33: 瞷) and convey different meanings. The former lacks the intention that is characteristic of the latter. Their commonality lies in a sensory exposure to reality28. The king’s sparing of the ox is a consequence of having seen its expression of fear and is not generalizable; hence, he has no intent to spare sacrificial animals overall29. Other than the sheep, the ox would count as the king’s victim in the sense of a possible but omitted rescue. An act of humaneness as exemplified in 1A7 is conditional upon direct and sensory exposure to its object.

Mengzi guides the king in his desire to “become a true king” by starting with what is already truly kinglike in him: the “working of humaneness” (仁术 rén shù) manifested in sparing the ox after having perceived its fear. Mengzi’s didactics with the king mirror his account of Shun’s process of growth: “When Shun was living deep in the mountains, dwelling together with trees and rocks and wandering together with deer and swine, the difference between him and the rustic people who dwelled deep in the mountains was quite small. But when he heard a single good word or observed a single good action, it was like a river in flood or a spring flowing forth –nothing could contain it” (7A16). Even the most random experiences of goodness (善 shàn) can stimulate growth in Shun, and so can a seemingly insignificant act of humaneness serve the king as model for true kingship: “With such a mind one has what it takes to become a true king”. (1A7)

Second conclusion: Seeing the emotions expressed by the victim facing harm can move the aggressor inflicting harm from inhumaneness towards humaneness.

3.4.2. Blindness and Inhumaneness

Back to Shun: 5A2 presents Shun’s father as the counter-persona to the king in 1A7—a man of inhumaneness, attributed with the according image of blindness. His name is Gusou (瞽瞍 gǔsǒu), both characters signifying blindness, he is “the blind blind”, a blindness not limited to the physical realm. Via negation, he confirms the inner connection between seeing the emotions of one’s victim and being moved to humaneness: Gusou does not see; hence, there is no working of humaneness. His repeated attempts to kill Shun are all designed in a way so that he does not see his son. “Shun’s parents sent him to repair a granary, and, having removed the ladder, Shun’s father, the Blind Man, set the granary ablaze”. And again (note the striking similarities to the attempted murder of Joseph): “They also made him dig a well. He got out, but they, not knowing that, proceeded to cover him up”.30 While the king can “not bear to see” (不忍见 bù rěn jiàn)31 the suffering of his subject and so spared it, Gusou avoids seeing Shun and cannot perceive his suffering. The avoidance of seeing accompanies the absence of an impulse towards humaneness32. The paradigmatic inhumaneness of Gusou is grounded in his insensitivity to a dimension of reality, namely, the emotions his acts cause in his counterpart.

The juxtaposition of Gusou and the king shows that an impulse toward humaneness presupposes the sensory perception of the reality one deals with, more specifically, of the emotional effects one’s behavior has on one’s counterpart. Mengzi calls this attitude “observant of human relationships” (察于人伦 chá yú rénlún)33. It is this attitude that persistently nurtures the working of humaneness in Shun: “Shun was clear about the multitude of things and observant of human relationships. Humaneness and rightness were the source of his actions; he did not just perform acts of humaneness and rightness” (4B19). In the Mencius, there seems to be no positive stimulus towards inhumaneness. An inhumane attitude, personified by the blind Gusou, is a privation—a lack of the working of humaneness due to blocking its sensorial mobilizer.

Shun’s family story also provides a positive example of how perception mobilizes humaneness. Shun’s half-brother Xiang (象 xiàng, “the elephant”) is habitually inhumane: “Xiang took as his daily occupation the cause of murdering Shun” (5A3). Paragraph 5A2 describes an attempt not carried out34: “Xiang went to Shun’s palace, and there was Shun on his couch, playing the lute”. He arrives with the plan to murder Shun but upon seeing him, he changes his mind “Xiang said, ‘I have been concerned only for you, my lord.’ He was embarrassed”. Xiang here is in the role of the king in 1A7. The difference between the father Gusou and half-brother Xiang is a matter of having seen or not having seen Shun. The connection to 1A7 is marked by a linguistic link, the reappearance of ox and sheep. Before Xiang goes to kill Shun, he makes plans for how to divide Shun’s belongings: “Let his oxen and sheep go to my parents”.35

Third conclusion: Being insensitive to the emotional expressions of one’s counterpart blocks stimuli that would mobilize the working of humaneness.

3.4.3. Interplay: Perceiving and Reacting

The perspective of the one who inflicts harm presented in 1A7 and 5A2 is omitted in 4B33: “The good man, knowing nothing of this, strutted in from outside, with an air of self-consequence, expecting to impress his wife and concubine”. The scene ends abruptly, as if the further course of events could be intuited by the reader based on prior discourse in the Mencius. If the stance developed in 1A7 applies to the man in 4B33, seeing the women’s emotional reaction to the harm he inflicted upon them can provide a stimulus to humaneness that could lead him to honesty and to adapting his lifestyle. Mengzi situates change toward humaneness in an interplay of perception and reaction. Inhumaneness affects the victim, and the victim’s response (weeping in 4B33, trembling in 1A7) affects the actuator (not bearing to see the suffering 1A7). On both sides, perception is the trigger: One side sensorially perceives imminent harm (the woman observes the man, the animal approaches execution) which triggers an emotion (shame, fear) that is visibly expressed (crying, trembling). The other side sensorially perceives this emotional reaction (the king sees the trembling) which triggers the working of humaneness (sparing the animal). Mengzi depicts growth in humaneness as an interplay of emotions and perceptions, of reactions and subsequent reactions on perceived reactions.

Such an interplay is happening between Shun and Xiang, too. Mengzi describes it in short when asked if Shun was ignorant of Xiang’s murderous intentions: “How could he not have known? When Xiang was anxious, he, too, was anxious, and when Xiang was glad, he too was glad” (5A2). Shun in his fully developed ability of emotional resonance feels anxiety caused by the anxiety which Xiang feels in his violent ambitions. As Xiang perceives Shun’s anxiety, he is moved to spare his life, like the king in 1A7, and shows his respect instead. Shun sees the working of humaneness in Xiang and recognizes “the mind it takes to become a true king” (1A7), therefore entrusting him with the leadership over his subjects: “You should govern them on my behalf” (5A2). Xiang, in respecting Shun, conforms to what “brotherly love should have impelled him to” and therefore feels the kind of “joy” one feels when “coming into one’s element” (5A2), that is, being a true brother to Shun. The latter then perceives Xiang’s gladness and reflects it in turn. Xiang’s transition from inhumaneness to humaneness is characterized by an interplay of emotions between him and Shun, indicating that the process is relational rather than individual in nature.

Fourth conclusion: Personal growth in humaneness rests upon an interpersonal influence.

3.5. From Interplay to Transformation

The above conclusions allow for a deepened understanding of 5A1 and of the reasons for which Shun weeps. (a) Shun’s crying and weeping constitute an emotional reaction to the harm inflicted on him by his family. (b) If Shun’s father saw Shun’s crying caused by his aggression, he could be moved to humaneness. Does (b) happen?

3.5.1. What Is Transformation?

In the Mencius, interpersonal influence causing a person’s transition towards humaneness is a central theme. In 7A13: “Where the noble person passes he transforms; where he resides he exerts a spiritual influence”. In 7A40: “There are five ways in which the noble person teaches others. One is by exerting a transforming influence, like a timely rain”. In 7B25: “When one is great and exercises a transforming influence, one may be called a ‘sage’”. More passages testify to Mengzi’s view that a humane person exerts a transforming influence on his environment. Paragraph 3A2 is of special importance as it deals with weeping (泣 qì): “When the lord dies his heir gives over authority to the chief minister. […] As he approaches his position in the ceremony of mourning, he weeps. Among all the officers, none will dare not to grieve, following his example”. Crying has a transformative influence on those who perceive it.

In line with these passages, Mengzi seems to explicitly tell how Shun transforms his father Gusou. He cites the Classics of the Documents: “Reverently performing his duties, he [Shun] appeared before Gusou—awestruck, fearful, grave. And Gusou was also transformed” (5A4). Gusou is transformed by the perception of Shun’s emotions. However, Bloom’s translation is debatable. The character behind “transformed” is not, as in the case of the passages above, 化 (hua 7A13, 7A40, 7B25), but 允 (qiān, or yǔn), a word that appears in the Mencius only once and is characteristic of earlier writing. Bloom claims to “follow Legge’s sense of the term” (Bloom 2009, p. 103, Fn. 21). The latter translates as “Gu Sou also believed him and conformed to virtue”. Legge’s rendering of 允is close to the explanation given by the classical Chinese dictionary Shuowen Jiezi (说文解字, ca 100 CE): “to consent because it is worthy of trust”.36 Applied to 5A4: Gusou consents to the trustworthiness of Shun. The even older dictionary Erya (尔雅, ca. third century BCE) gives both “trust” (信 xìn) and “trustworthiness” (诚 chéng) as the meaning.37 The character in its original meaning can relate to both sides, the exerting, trustworthy side and the receiving, trusting side. 允 itself already contains the notion of an interplay between two persons centered around trust. In the above cited passage 5A4, this notion is stressed by the term 亦 (yì) which Bloom translates as “also”. The term’s original meaning “both, as well as” carries a sense of reciprocity and therefore makes an indirect statement about Shun: he is already in the state Gusou is “also” changed into. 允 in its original bidirectional meaning, supported by 亦 in its reciprocal meaning, embodies what is happening in the transformation between Shun and Gusou: Gusou is becoming what Shun is.

The passage from the Book of Documents cited by Mengzi provides further support for assuming the transformation of Gusou through Shun. In almost identical words as in 5A1, it describes Shun’s crying and weeping to Heaven and to his parents. The central theme of the passage is the power of transformation. The retuning of Gusou by Shun serves as a comparative contrast for the retuning of the defiant Mao people by Shun’s successor Yu. Shun’s example is used to show “It is virtue that moves Heaven”38 and “greatest trustworthiness affects the spirits”39 (Counsels of the Great Yu, 3:66). It is in his translation of this classic that Legge uses “transform” in the passage cited by Mengzi in 5A4: “Gu also became transformed by his example” (Counsels of the Great Yu, 3:66).

Fifth conclusion: Shun’s expression of emotions transforms his father Gusou.

3.5.2. Transformation and Purposelessness

Mengzi reevaluates the visible expression of emotions. His interlocutors regard it as improper for a noble person to show grief; he should be “indifferent” (恝 jiá) instead (5A1). Mengzi only comments: “This is something you do not understand” (5A1). For Mengzi, exposing emotions is not characteristic of the “small man” (小人 xiǎo rén, 6B3), as his dialogue partners suppose, but of being “consummately filial”, because it can overcome estrangement in relationship (6B3). Does this mean that Mengzi calls on intentionally exposing emotions?

Mengzi has an explicitly non-instrumental approach to the visibility of emotions. Following from the position that the perception of tears has transformative power, he does not conclude that they should be made visible. Quite the opposite, there is a paradox of authenticity: only when emotions are not strategically used to transform are they authentic enough to have the power to transform. That potential lies in emotional tears out of “grief and longing”, not in strategically calculated tears. In crying, nothing outside of crying is intended: “if my older brother were to draw his bow to shoot him, I would shed tears when telling of it solely because he is my relative” (6B3)—and not because these tears are to change the brother’s murderous intention. Valuing humaneness as an end in itself without regard of extrinsic profit is a central message in the Mencius, already demonstrated in the very first paragraph40: “Why must the king speak of profit? I have only (teachings concerning) humaneness and rightness. […] Let the king speak only of humaneness and rightness. What need has he to speak of profit?” (1A1). In 5A1, Shun does not seek witnesses to his crying nor does any statement hint at an intention of changing his family members. “In devoting my strength to tilling the fields, I am fulfilling my duties as a son, nothing more”41. Shun does not cry to transform his family.

Sixth conclusion: In the Mencius, there is no instrumental use of emotions or of their transformative potential.

3.6. The General Relevance of Shun’s Narrative

Mengzi attributes general relevance to the relationship between Gusou and Shun. The latter being leader over all-under-Heaven, their relation is of ultimate, all-encompassing dimensions: “among the honors paid to one’s parents, there is none greater than nurturing them with all-under-Heaven. To be the father of the Son of Heaven is the ultimate honor, and to be nurtured with all-under-Heaven is the ultimate nurturing” (5A4). This might be the reason why Shun’s crying is directed both towards “Heaven and to his parents”42 (5A1). Their relationship has representational status and Shun’s crying thereby concerns all father–child relationships. Therefore, Mengzi speaks of an ultimate and all-encompassing transformation brought about by the transformation realized in the relationship of Shun and Gusou:

“Through Shun’s fulfilling the Way of serving his parents, Gusou came to be pleased, and when Gusou came to be pleased, the world was transformed. When Gusou came to be pleased, all the fathers and sons in the world became secure. This is called ‘great filiality’”. (4A28)

The term behind Bloom’s “came to be pleased” (砥豫 zhǐyù, Legge: “was brought to find delight in what was good”) is unique to this one passage amongst all Chinese classics. The first character carries the meaning to pacify and to stabilize (Ricci 2001), as depicted by its radical “stone” (石). The second character signifies joy43 and contains the character for elephant (象), as if Shun’s half-brother was somehow included and present in the encounter between Shun and Gusou, turning it into a family dynamic.44

There also is an interplay between Gusou and Shun. Gusou’s becoming pleased is all that Shun lacks: “The reason why the approval of men, the love of women, wealth, and honor were not enough to dispel his sorrow was that it was a sorrow that could be dispelled only by being in harmony with his parents”. (5A1). Only when the father’s resistance against Shun is dissolved does Shun become completely filial. According to the authoritative Song Dynasty commentator Zhu Xi (1130–1200), Shun blames himself for his parents’ aggressions against him. His grief in 5A1 is directed towards himself and his own lack of filiality that makes him unworthy of his parents’ affection.45 Only through his parents’ acceptance can he be transformed into being fully filial. “He thought that if he could not win the hearts of his parents, he could not be a human being, and that if he could not reach an accord with his parents, he could not be a son”. (4A28). As Gusou becomes a true father, Shun also becomes a true son. This reverses a degeneration not only in Gusou but also in Shun: “To not have a father and to not have a ruler is to be an animal”. (3B9)46. This mutual transformation between Shun and Gusou might best be described as reconciliation, a familial reconciliation happening between father and son, representative of reconciliation in all family relations47.

Zhu Xi speaks in yet another way of the general relevance of Shun’s narrative. Shun is a role provider, and thus he paradigmatically defines the roles of son and father. In his commentary to 4A28, Zhu Xi summarizes Shun’s definition of filial and parental roles: “The son is filial, the father kind, each stay in their role and do not feel unpacified about their role, this is what is called pacified”48. Shun constitutes the relational structure of filial piety, and by constituting this family virtue, not only his family relationship but indeed the world is transformed.

Seventh conclusion: The transformation that Gusou undergoes under Shun’s influence is representative of the transformation of all things.

3.7. Summary

Why is it that Shun cries and weeps? Shun’s grief and longing, as exposed in his crying, result from facing inhumaneness in his family relationship. The exposure to and sensory perception of emotions has the potential to transform the inhumane intention of the aggressor towards impulses of humaneness.

4. Conclusive Remarks: Commonalities Between Shun and Joseph

Though distant in cultural and historical origin, Genesis’ Joseph and Mengzi’s Shun are linked by profound similarities that can be presented in three categories: 1. type and status of the narrative; 2. biography and character traits of the protagonist; 3. entailed notion of reconciliation.

4.1. Narrative Commonalities

Both narratives are of highest cultural value and canonical status: the story of Joseph appears in the sacred scriptures of Judaism and Christianity (Genesis) and, with some variations, also of Islam (Sura Yusuf), whereas the Mencius is part of the authoritative Four Books defined by Zhu Xi. The narrated times are approximately the same, being around the end of the third millennium BCE (Zhang Xianglong [张祥龙] 2014; Ermoni 1912, p. 1655). Brotherly conflict and unequal parental treatment are at the core of both stories. Both narratives deal with a multigenerational pattern of conflict. Both texts go beyond simple storytelling and operate on various levels of prototypical (depicting exemplary individuals), familial (constituting a model of family relationships), political (presenting principles and legitimation of just leadership), mythological (transmitting resources of meaning and purpose), cultural (recounting a foundational history of culture), and ancestral (personifying conflicts and the merging of ancient dynasties and tribes) significance.

4.2. Biographical Commonalities

Their commonality of crying tears in the course of their respective family conflicts provides the starting point of this comparative study. In addition, further similarities in biography and character become obvious: Both Joseph and Shun suffer attempted murder by their half-brother(s), including being put in a well; both have a blind father; they rise in hierarchy to take the second highest political position and eventually become leaders of their people; their elevation implies a rejection of primogeniture; both marry without the knowledge and consent of their parents; eventually they are accepted by their brothers and father in their political as well as familial roles; both are wounded by their father’s attitude towards them (too much love in Joseph’s and not enough in Shun’s case); brotherly rivalry marks their familial relationship; they initially do not expose their emotions or weeping to their family; both are connected to agriculture and alleviate the hunger of their people; both are associated with foreign lands (Joseph with Egypt and Shun with an “Eastern barbarian origin”); and, though coming from peripheries, they unify and recenter their family and people. Having everything they need and holding immense power, they both profoundly lack only one thing: reconciliation with their family.

4.3. A Common Notion of Reconciliation

There is no such word as “reconciliation” in any of the two texts. Neither Genesis nor the Mencius systematically conceptualize what reconciliation is; however, both Joseph and Shun narratively personify how reconciliation is brought about. Their commonalities reveal the transculturally shared anthropological ground of reconciliation.

4.3.1. Violence

The depiction of a reconciliatory process presupposes a given conflict. Both texts undertake “the unveiling of the structure of violence” (Vermander 2011, p. 160) in a similar way: at its core, violence begins with intentionally avoiding perception of one’s counterpart, that is to say, not seeing the suffering of one’s victim. The blind Gusou is the “extreme case, a case for textbook discussion” (Vermander 2023, p. 115) of this structure of violence. Despite the fact that, according to Mengzi, no human being could bear to watch a child fall into a well (2A6), Gusou, in contrast, attempts to bury his son in a well. As he is completely insensitive to the suffering of his counterpart, he represents a “denatured” (Vermander 2022, p. 181) person not fulfilling what Mengzi describes as the minimum conditions of humaneness: “All human beings have a mind that cannot bear to see the sufferings of others” (2A6). Gusou’s structurally violent attitude is not transformed until he is finally able to perceive his son and his emotions (5A4). Similarly, the transformation of Joseph’s brothers is described as maturing in the ability of emotional perception: when looking back at their crime against Joseph, they admit how they “did not hear his emotional distress” (42:21). Towards the end, Judah asks to “speak a word in the ears” of Joseph (44:18). He has learned the importance of listening. In his speech that follows, he testifies to his transformation in claiming that he “could not bear to see” the suffering of his father Jacob if he were to lose yet another son (44:34).

4.3.2. Steps in the Reconciliatory Process

Joseph and Shun demonstrate how this structure of violence is disempowered. The following five common steps emerge in both narratives: 1. Facing aggression in a close relationship, the victim feels and exposes emotions. 2. The perception of these emotions causes a change in perspective in the aggressor. 3. Moved by sharing the inner perspective of his/her counterpart, the aggressor experiences a transformation. 4. An interplay between both sides unfolds that deepens transformation on both sides and creates proximity between them. 5. As this new quality of encounter prevails and matures, reconciliation finds its way into the relationship.

4.3.3. Tears

In both narratives, tears are pivotal to the reconciliatory process. At first glance, there seems to be a difference in the precise function of tears. In Shun’s case, crying is caused by inhumane harm to the victim, and it might transform the aggressor if he sees the crying. In Joseph’s case, crying is caused by having witnessed a transformation of the inhumane towards humaneness. Underlying this difference lies yet another deeper commonality: the significance of empathy and compassion. Joseph’s aggressors are transformed by feeling the inhumaneness they inflicted on their victim, which in turn is inflicted on themselves. Similarly, Shun’s aggressors are transformed by perceiving their victim’s emotions. In both cases, transformation on the aggressor’s side is mediated by a change in perspective that allows for empathy with the victim. In both texts, tears relate to transformation, either as the cause (Shun: his tears cause the other to be compassionate) or the effect (Joseph: his tears are caused by perceiving the other’s compassion).

4.4. Transcultural Dimension: Reconciliation Between Civilizations

The two texts reveal fundamental cross-cultural anthropological parallels in the conceptualization of violence and its transformation towards reconciliation. In their respective traditions of interpretation, both texts have been understood typologically, hence considering the narrated characters not just as individuals but as representatives of collectives and historic constellations. In this sense, the stories have been read as reflecting historical conflicts and rapprochement between nations and tribes. Shun’s relations with his predecessor Yao and successor Yu has been understood as processing the struggles for differentiation and unity between tribes of different ethnic origins (Erkes 1939). The relations between Jacob’s sons has been seen as recounting the separation and merging of the Northern and Southern kingdoms of Israel (Fischer 2001). Both texts employ personification to preserve and process a collective historic experience that shapes a civilization: navigating the encounter of non-homogeneous cultures.

From this perspective, the commonalities between both texts’ notions of reconciliation can be applied not only to interpersonal relationships, but also to the very kind of constellations that form the historical core of these texts: the encounter between cultures. Such a reading could be applied to the relationship between the two great civilizations for which these texts are culturally formative49: on the one hand, the West, whose cultural foundations include the Biblical tradition, in which the Book of Genesis and therein Joseph play an eminent role—and on the other hand, South East Asia and specifically China, for whom the Confucian tradition including Mengzi and his model protagonist Shun are of particular importance. The comparison of Joseph and Shun can provide shared resources in overcoming the multifaceted challenges of resolving structures of conflict and violence and creating a dynamic of reconciliation and peace between both civilizations.