March 2017

Time for our last traipse through the Arthaśāstrawhich started here and continued here.


Congratulations, you’ve become king of a small ancient Indian state. Your first question: how to choose ministers? This is an important enough question that Kauṭilya does a literature review: he summarizes the opinion of various authorities before giving his own. You should not pick your classmates or family retainers (they won’t respect you as a king), nor sycophants (they are devoted by not intelligent), nor “new persons” (who are inexperienced). You should choose men of “high family and possessed of wisdom… ministerial appointments shall purely depend on qualifications.” This sounds hard to disagree with, but it’s worth pointing out that most premodern states were aristocratic and not meritocratic. (And this was long before China’s examination system developed.)

Early governments are often pictured with a small staff. E.g. I was just reading in Mary Beard that Pliny the Younger was appointed governor of a fairly large province and had precisely two  officeholders beneath him. Beyond that, he had to use his own servants, co-opt native (non-Roman) authorities, or use the legions. Chinese magistrates might govern a million citizens with no staff paid by the central government. But the Arthaśāstra describes what sounds like a pretty large and thorough bureaucracy.  Here’s the main offices described:

  • Chamberlain (responsible for treasury and storehouses)
  • Collector general (of taxes)
  • Superintendent of accounts
  • … of the treasury
  • … of (manufacturing) metals
  • … of the mint
  • … of gold
  • … of the storehouse
  • … of commerce
  • … of forest produce
  • … of the armoury
  • … of weights and measures
  • … of tolls
  • … of weaving
  • … of agriculture
  • … of liquor
  • … of the slaughterhouse
  • … of prostitutes
  • … of cows
  • … of horses
  • … of elephants
  • … of chariots
  • … of passports

He also mentions the chief priest, the officer in charge of the harem, the magistrate, the king’s council, and governors of cities, forts, boundaries, and villages.

Kauṭilya writes as if the king could regulate and manage everything. There’s no bright line between public and private. It’s clear there was private activity, but the state also carried on a lot of economic activity on its own. The king also wanted his tax share of everything. There is even a rule that the state should supply dice to gamblers.

A warning on secrecy: counsels have been divulged by parrots, mynah birds, and dogs. (Was this warning literal? But then we say “The walls have ears.”)

The vices of a king are hunting, gambling, women, and drinking. Of these, Kauṭilya concludes that drinking and gambling are the worst. Drinking causes loss of money, corpselike appearance, loss of the Vedas, pain, loss of friends, and addiction to music. For Kauṭilya that’s pretty harsh.

Using confederates, princes should be terrified into avoiding all four. This can be done by drugging his liquor, defrauding him at gambling, accosting his hunting party in the guise of bandits, and showing him “impure women”.

A forest for the king may be set up with wild animals whose claws and teeth have been removed. (This is presumably for relaxation; other forests could be set up for hunting.)

Although there is much advice about how to serve the king, the life of a courtier is described as “living in fire.”

Kings should follow their subjects in dress, customs, language, and religion. (Again, Kauṭilya wrote in a period when kings were often foreign and/or non-Hindu, so this may be a complaint against the times.)

There are suggestions on how a minister can seize power. However, Kauṭilya advises against this; rather, a young prince should be set up as a puppet.


If Kauṭilya has one word for the king, that word is spies. Spies should check on government officials, attempt to corrupt them (so you learn which are corruptible), listen for dissidents, eliminate the seditious. They spread out into neighboring countries to bring information and sow division. Good covers for spies include religious disciple, ascetic, householder, merchant, prostitute, and mendicant woman. Poisoners and assassins are also needed.

If three different spies produce the same story, it can be believed.  If they frequently differ, they are probably making things up and should be dismissed.

Suspicious places to check on: vintners; sellers of cooked rice and meat; gambling houses; houses of heretics. Merchants and physicians are expected to report suspicious clients.

Entrapment is recommended. One neat idea: pretend to have supernatural powers, such as great speed, invisibility, causing sleep, opening locked doors.  See who signs up for lessons. (You can use confederates to pretend to sleep in order to demonstrate your powers.)  Arrest those who then attempt to commit crimes.

A spy can incite the brother of a seditious person to kill him. Then you kill the brother for fratricide.

You can set up traps in a temple, e.g. a wall that falls on your enemy as he enters.

A spy can pretend to be a long-lived ascetic and make friends with an enemy king. The spy claims that he takes a new body every hundred years, and invites the enemy to see the rite. If he shows up, he can be killed.

Spies can pretend to be gods and converse with the king, so the people think the king regularly has divine visitors.


Though kings were expected to rule with wisdom, they were also expected to conquer. “Whoever is superior in power shall wage war.”

It’s presumed that all the king’s neighbors are enemies. But by the same token, the king in back of your enemy might be your friend. The rules for dealing with enemies, friends, and neutrals are pretty complex, and frequently cynical. (If you need to double-cross your enemy, he tells you how to do it.)

Fighting to the end is not wise; better to surrender. Typically a surrendered king was allowed to administer his own territory.

If you have to give children as hostages, it’s best to give princesses, because they “cause troubles” for the court that receives them. Unfortunately he doesn’t explain what troubles!

Is it better to attack a strong but wicked king, or a weak but righteous one?  The wicked king, because his own subjects will refuse to support him.

Is it better to have a small army of bold men, or a large army of effete men?  The latter: there is always work for the weaklings, and numbers terrify the enemy. Besides, you can train the effete men to be more spirited.

You could use an “army of traitors” to look weak and invite attack.

A look-alike for the king should supervise the arrangement of troops.

An untrained army can march one yojana a day (5.5 miles)— the best armies could do twice that. (Other sources on ancient warfare suggests 20 miles a day… but at this period north India still had lots of forest, so Kauṭilya probably knows what he’s talking about.)

Ways to cross a river: a line of elephants; planks spread over pillars; bridges and boats; masses of bamboo; baskets covered with skins.

You shouldn’t harass a defeat army, because it will become reckless and dangerous.

Elephants can be used not only to charge the enemy, but to break into forts, to clear the path, to protect your flank, to ford streams, to quench fires, to carry the treasury.  However, elephants are only good when there’s plenty of water: in dry hot country they become obstinate, or catch leprosy.

The four branches of the army are infantry, elephants, horses, and chariots.  However, it’s clear that the number of chariots is small: a few dozen make up the chariot arm.

Three men can oppose a horse; fifteen are needed to oppose a chariot or an elephant.







More on the Arthaśāstra. Today we’ll look at how oppressive Kauṭilya was or wasn’t.


Kauṭilya brandishes his hair at you

Prudential government

Not infrequently, Kauṭilya advises against going too far. “Whoever imposes severe punishment becomes repulsive to the people; while he who awards mild punishment becomes contemptible.”

When it comes to intrigue and diplomacy, he can be quite cynical and immoral— but we’ll get to that later. In general he advises the king to be benevolent, and warns that a wicked and greedy king makes so many enemies that his own people will not support him if foreign kings move against him.

“Whoever doubles the [king’s] revenue eats into the vitality of the country.” This almost sounds like a typo, but it’s not. You have to picture an over-zealous tax collector who brings in twice the goods that were expected. This could only be done by an increase in oppression, so it is liable to punishment. Elsewhere he explains that over-collecting injures the sources of revenue, “causing immense trouble.”

There are a number of rules designed to encourage development and foreign trade:

  • Merchants who import foreign goods may do so tax-free.
  • “Seeds not easily available” are tax-free.
  • Taxes are remitted on land if there are recent improvements, or new buildings.

In an emergency, such as a famine, the king may levy confiscatory taxes— “causing the rich to vomit their accumulated wealth”— to relieve the poor.

In a mere fiscal emergency, he can also demand a substantial additional tax— but, Kauṭilya warns, this can only be done once.

Prisoners should be freed when a country is conquered, when an heir is named, when a prince is born. Weaker prisoners may be let go on the king’s birthday. Quite frequently, prisoners can be freed if they have done useful work, or if they’re ransomed, or sufficiently whipped.

The use of assassination and other nasty methods is only to be used “against the seditious”.

When a moralist or a judge gives rules, that’s perhaps better evidence that his rules were flouted as that they were obeyed. So the Arthaśāstra shouldn’t be taken as meaning that ancient Indian society was progressive in these ways. On the other hand it does mean that these were living contemporary ideals, and reflected how the educated classes thought kings should behave.


The four classes (varṇa) of society— brahmins (priests and scholars), kṣatriyas (warriors), vaiśyas (mostly merchants), and śūdras (servants)— are mentioned, as are the caṇḍālas (untouchables) and mlecchas (barbarians) outside the system. There are also references to “heretics”— presumably Buddhists, Jains, and Ājīvikas. There is little hint of the thousands of castes (jāti) of later India.

On the other hand, it’s hard to get the impression that Kauṭilya is really doctrinaire about this. He mentions at one point that the army should be composed of kṣatriyas— but in another chapter he says that a mixed army is fine, and anyway making use of  vaiśyas and śūdras allowed you to have a bigger army, which was better. Curiously, for colonizing new lands, he suggests sending śūdras alone— it is “plentiful and permanent”. Discussing the qualifications for ministers, he asks only that they be of “high family”.


The king in his harem was guarded by female archers.

Women were the weavers; as a corollary, mail armor was made by women.

There are many rules applying to court prostitutes: She was not to leave her jewelry with anyone but her mother. She paid a high fine for cutting off someone’s ear.  She paid a large fine for taking a customer’s fee and not sleeping with him. There was a very heavy fine (500 to 1000 paṇas; compare to the wages listed in the previous post) for raping a prostitute; however, she paid an even larger fee for declining to sleep with someone the king ordered her to.

The chapter on prostitutes casually extends the same rule to entertainers— obviously seen as the same class. The sons of prostitutes are to be raised as actors.

Women are “made for sons”; as a corollary, if they are doing it to get a son, they may sleep with lepers or lunatics.

The age of majority: 12 for women, 16 for men.

On the whole the Indian kingdoms were hard for women— Kauṭilya has a whole section giving various fines for women leaving their houses. On the other hand, he allows easy divorce for both parties— the women only has to return her dowry and any jewels she received. If a woman is abandoned (when her husband leaves the city), she must wait for a year but can then herself go. He also encourages remarriage, which is significant because later Hindu society was pretty persnickety about widows remarrying.

There were punishments specially for adultery with another class— much higher if the man’s class was lower than the woman’s.

Witchcraft deserved death if it was done for reasons of incest. If you attempted to injure another by witchcraft, you could be punished with whatever you tried to do to them. But witchcraft merely to create feelings of love was no offense.

A man having sex with another man could pay 48 to 96 paṇas. (Spellcheck wants me to say pandas.  Did you know that the word panda is Nepalese? But the original reference was to the red panda.)

Bestiality cost you 12 paṇas. And 24 covered intercourse with idols of female goddesses. Assuming that means statues, that doesn’t even sound possible, but I guess the authorities would want to discourage experimentation.

Kauṭilya is very strong against rape, and defines it very clearly and broadly— “sexual intercourse with any woman against her will”. (So much for Orientalists who were hoping for a version of Gor.)

However, a woman could promise sex in order to be rescued from enemies or floods.  (She could also promise a ransom.)

I look forward to comparing these rules to the Laws of Manu.  According to Wendy Doniger, Manu was a moralist and had a very low opinion of women: women were a constant temptation to lust; they should always be dependent on men; a woman who abandons an evil husband will be reborn as a jackal. There’s none of this element in Kauṭilya. Indeed, he never gives any spiritual justification or sanction for his laws.


Kauṭilya seems embarrassed by slavery. Āryas are not supposed to be sold as slaves. There are fines for selling someone into slavery— but they start at 12 paṇas for a śūdra, which is misdemeanor level. (He explicitly calls śūdras Ārya, despite some historians’ suggestions that the servant class derived from earlier non-Ārya.)  Barbarians, of course, can be freely sold.

And yet he allows people to sell themselves, especially to “tide over family troubles”.

Slaves are not to be raped, abused, or kept naked.

People could also promise to enslave themselves and their family in order to be rescued from fires, floods, and wild animals. But the text goes on to say that the person only owes what the “experts” agree on.  (These arrangements don’t say much for the humaneness of  rescuers. But to be fair, nobody needed rules for a rescue without conditions.)


The  Arthaśāstra is aimed at kings, and aims to give them enough information to supervise the work of their ministers. In places, it gives encyclopedic information about agriculture, mining, and so on: what crops are best (rice) and worst (sugarcane— difficult and expensive to grow), where the best elephants are found (Bengal and the east), how to recognize various ores; how to test for fake gold. He even offers up some basic rules on writing— though this mostly comes down to offering definitions. (“The word is of four kinds: nouns, verbs, verb prefixes, and particles.”)

Seeds are manured with “minute fishes” as well as the milk of the spurge plant.

Rainfall could be predicted by observing Jupiter and Venus. (Unfortunately he doesn’t give details. But this gives you something to talk about with your Superintendent of Agriculture.)

The daily rations for an elephant: 1 drona of rice, 1/2 adhaka of oil, 3 prasthas of ghee, 10 palas of salt, 50 palas of meat, 1 adhaka of broth or curd, 10 palas of sugar, 1 adhaka of liquor, 2 bharas  of meadow grass, 2 1/4 bharas of ordinary grass, 2 1/2 of dry grass, and any amount of pulses.

I suppose you want to know what those measures are. Look, don’t buy an elephant if your Sanskrit is that shaky. It looks like a pala is the weight of 64 mung bean seeds. A prastha is 1/4 of an adhaka, which one dictionary translates (probably very loosely) as a gallon. If it helps, 25 palas of firewood will cook 1 prastha of rice.

Next and last post




Continuing to blog the Arthasastra. Or now that I’m on the computer with good font support, Arthaśāstra.  Or अर्थशास्त्र.


(Unless something is in quotes, it’s a paraphrase.)

Today we’ll go over rules for cities, economics, and society. Often Kauṭilya will be describing things as he thinks they ought to be rather than they are; but it’s still a valuable indication of his values and knowledge.

Cities and economics

A city should have three north-south and three east-west boulevards, each four dandas wide (24 ft), with a gate at each entrance. (This is the same as a classical Chinese capital.)

The city should be laid out as in the above diagram. Burial and cremation grounds are located to the east or north, and heretics and caṇḍālas (untouchables) lived beyond them.

There are rules for houses— they should be well built, not too close to another house, and each must have its own dunghill, watercourse, and well. A mat should be placed on the roof to protect from rain, heavy enough not to blow off.

Inns are to be provided with perfumes or garlands of flowers. Also with spies, who will report on signs of wealth.  Innkeepers are responsible to their guests for the value of things stolen.

Fording a river is forbidden without a special pass, lest traitors get away.

Musicians should not provide entertainments that make use of weapons, fire, or poison. (There must be some interesting stories behind that rule.)

Vessels filled with water are to be placed at crossroads, and in front of royal houses. Beyond this, Kauṭilya suggests that fire be prevented by praying to Agni (the god of fire). In general Kauṭilya believes in piety, but he never gives a theological justification or sanction for his rules.

Debts are inheritable, which sounds like a recipe for trouble.

A useful table of wages for government employees, all in paṇas per year: top officials (including the prince and the king’s mother), 48000. Commanders, superintendent of the harem, collector-general, 24000. Ministers, 12000. Chariot driver, army physician, horse trainer, carpenter, 2000. Astrologer, bard, superintendents, 1000. Trained soldiers, writers, accountants, 500. Musicians, 250.  Carpenters, 120. Horse keepers, bodyguards, miscellaneous servants, 60. Spies, 1000 (but the spymaster only gets 250).

Low opinions

As in most ancient societies, trading was very low-prestige— except for long-distance trading, as unusual merchandise was highly valued. Traders, artisans, beggars, clowns, and other “idlers” are closely regulated as otherwise they “oppress the country”. Goldsmiths are considered to be generally fraudulent.

A list of “undesirable persons” includes thieves, gamblers, hunters, singers, and musicians. Very often entertainers (including musicians and dramatists) are discussed along with prostitutes— again, pretty typical for premodern societies.

There’s a warning about trusting in astrology to gain wealth. Kauṭilya points out that wealth begets wealth; the stars do not.

Various laws

Treasure troves go to the king, but the discoverer gets 1/6.  Or 1/12 if he’s a peon.

If a hermit is fined, he can do penance instead, one day for each paṇa of the fine.

Eunuchs, idiots, lepers, lunatics, the blind, and those thrown out of their class do not inherit.

The eldest son receives a smaller inheritance if he is impotent. (One wonders how this was checked.)

There are fines for wandering cattle.  (Presumably this was a lot easier to regulate in ancient times!)

If a priest dies after performing a sacrifice, his heir only gets 1/5 of his share of the fee.

There are fines for selling a leprous animal– or person. This must be claimed within six weeks for animals, or within a year for humans.

You can be fined for verbal abuse, including irony— such as saying that a blind man has “beautiful eyes”.

Defendants in a legal case have 3 to 7 nights to prepare a defense. (However, there’s nothing about lawyers.)

In cases of sudden death, the corpse should be “smeared with oil” and examined. Perhaps this made bruises or changes in shape more visible, because there follows a list of clues for identifying victims of strangling, hanging, drowning, beating, poisoning, etc. (Pro tip: someone with lots of bloodstains and broken limbs may have been beaten.)

As in China, judges could torture defendants for information. On the other hand, they could be punished for unjust fines or punishments, or for sloppy procedure (e.g. “tiring parties with delay”). A Brahmin was not to be tortured, but if convicted, he could be branded on the face. (For theft, the symbol was a dog; for murder, a headless corpse; for rape, “the female part”; for drinking liquor, a vintner’s flag.)

Some suspicious signs that someone may be a thief: excessive stammering; “watching the movements of others”; rubs or scratches or “signs of scaling heights”; freshly broken nails; body smeared with oil and freshly washed. Footprints could be checked against those made near the crime scene, as well as fragments of garlands, sandals, or clothing.

If you are hurt by an elephant that you provoked, you are liable.

A fine can be levied on anyone who becomes an ascetic without providing for his wife and sons.

Next part

There’s failure in politics all the time. Parties, governing or opposing, don’t get all they want, sometimes spectacularly. But what we don’t see everyday is a political failure on the scale of today’s Trumpcare defeat.

What went wrong?  Here’s a pretty good analysis.  Here’s a good account of what Ryan did wrong. Here’s a good explanation of the GOP’s rather complex game plan.

Now, progressive opposition helped: GOP town halls and phone lines were filled with angry constituents, and that made a lot of reps worried about taking people’s health insurance away.  But fundamentally, this was an own goal.  They had the Presidency and both houses of  Congress.  The first stage of the process involved nothing but Republicans, and they had a 20-vote margin.  And they couldn’t do it. They couldn’t write a bill and pass it.

Why?  Many reasons, but one way of looking at it is this: the GOP, for a generation, has more and more defined itself as the party that is against politics. Starting with Newt Gingrich and his pals, they have systematically dismantled bipartisanship, Senatorial norms, earmarks, negotiation, half-a-loaf deals. They have consistently demonized the Democrats, and their own members who compromised with them. When Obama was elected, they quickly settled into being the Party of No. The centrist health care compromise worked out by GOP think tanks and implemented by a GOP governor had to be repudiated and treated as unbearable tyranny just out of spite that they hadn’t won.

It’s normal for presidential candidates to run against Washington– though Democrats have to at least promise to do things for people. Trump took this trope to new heights of exaggeration and mendacity: much of his appeal was as the magic outsider who would “drain the swamp” and get things done— unlike, you know, politics, which was Always Bad.

And the act worked!  That is, it worked to get Republicans elected. After the disaster of Bush, Republicans clawed their way back to control Congress and the Presidency. Now they could do anything they wanted!

And why couldn’t they?  Because after years of demonizing Politics, they’d forgotten how to do it.  Politics is never pretty, but politics is making government work for you. Naturally, the GOP should have GOP politics: making government do GOP things.  They’ve just shown that they don’t know how to do that.

Everybody deserves some blame, but we can point out the chief culprits:

  • Paul Ryan, who tried to manage the whole fiasco at a breathtaking clip. He failed because he refused to do politics: letting Congresspeople work on the bill, building consensus, bringing interest groups on board, working out a deal with everyone in his party.
  • Trump, who abandoned his own promises, didn’t know enough about the bill to argue for it, lost interest in the process after three weeks, and couldn’t think of any negotiating tactics besides vague threats and a big ultimatum.  For two years he’s gotten away with being a know-nothing who knows how to get into the papers; the fact that he hates politics and doesn’t know how to do it has finally become a huge liability.
  • The Freedom Caucus, which got almost all of what it wanted and, out of their own form of spite, still refused to go along and thus got none of what it wanted.  Ironically, their intransigence kept the GOP from jumping off a cliff, but let’s not make them into heroes here.  They wanted the bill to be far nastier, which means they too are not interested in actual politics, only in grandstanding and personal purity.
  • Some 180 to 190 Republican representatives who were still willing to go along with a crappy bill with 17% public support. That’s 180 people who could have said “This is a terrible idea, let’s slow down.” and didn’t.
  • Any number of pundits, radio blowhards, and minor pols who went along with the Repeal Obamacare line for years and never foresaw any of this. And made any reconsideration or repair unthinkable within the conservative bubble.

If they had passed the bill today, we’d probably be having the same discussion a week from now: the House bill would have flopped unceremoniously in the Senate.  But McConnell has the reputation for being canny, at least.  He was planning on a quick and decisive vote.  Since he knows perfectly well that Senators don’t work like that, he likely expected that it was better to fail big and fast, so as to move on to other things.

Have they learned anything?  Almost certainly not. The next big topic will undoubtedly be a huge tax cut for the rich. And that would be easy-peasy if the GOP adopted a very simple idea: let the tax cuts expire in ten years, so they can use reconciliation rules in the Senate. (This is what Bush did, and it’s why his tax cuts did expire.)  That would be a great victory for the GOP! But they will be obsessed with making the tax cuts permanent, which means making them revenue-neutral, so they’ll be adding in program cuts and maybe new taxes (they’re excited about a new “border adjustment tax” that could raise a trillion dollars).  And that means a bunch of additional and unnecessary fights. Oh, and we have a brain-dead custom of requiring separate bills to spend money and to raise the debt ceiling, and the debt ceiling deadline is coming up, another opportunity for a big intra-party fight.

In short: a policy of opposing all governing really does come and bite you in the ass when you’re the ones governing.  Trump already trotted out a line about blaming Democrats for the failure of the health care bill, which surely fools no one at this point.  When the Republicans can’t pass their own bill, why would any Democrat help them? But this dodge, which worked so well when the Democrats had the White House, sounds silly today and will sound even sillier as the midterms approach.

Some of my Twitter friends have joined the Democratic Socialists.  I’m kind of pleased to note that on at least one issue, I’m more radical than they are: I think the CEO system for running corporations is a dangerous anachronism. And this whole debacle shows why. Trump is the personification of the bad CEO, one who can’t build or run an honest business. His one skill is marketing one word, his own name. He’s canny or unscrupulous enough to let other people slap that name on things, often crappy or scammy things, and still make money for himself. But he’s fundamentally lazy and has no idea how to get things done except by yelling at people.  We saw today that this doesn’t work in government.  Someday we’ll see that it’s poor practice in business too.

I just finished Kautilya’s Arthashastra, which is perhaps the greatest book I know of that I can’t recommend to readers.


So, first, what is it?  It’s a book on state policy: how to run a country, how to run a spy network, how to regulate commerce, who to appoint as ministers, how to manage allies and enemies, how to conduct war. It was written somewhere from 2200 to 1700 years ago in India, attributed to one Kautilya or Vishnugupta.  It’s often claimed that Kautilya was Chanakra, the wily minister of Chandragupta Maurya, founder of the first Indian empire, but this is unlikely.

It’s often compared to Machiavelli. On the whole Kautilya counsels the king to be virtuous: he must avoid dissipation, reward loyalty, punish criminals, put down bandits, encourage (and not overtax) production. But when he’s cynical, he’s cynical.  He tells you how to recruit spies, how to double-cross your friends, how to poison people, even how a minister can declare himself king.

He’s also, truth to tell, extremely dry, and it’s not clear how much of his advice was followed, which is why I can’t urge anyone to run out and score a copy.  As Patrick Olivelle says about the similar Laws of Manu (which is coming up on the reading list, watch this space), the book dates from a time when northern India was often as not run by low-caste upstarts, by Buddhists (i.e. heretics), or by out-and-out mlecchas (barbarians)– Greeks, Kushans, Sakas. So Kautilya and Manu are both describing things as they think they ought to be.

But the thing is, more than most ancient books, Kautilya gives loads of details on everyday life: crop yields, names of measures, structure of the government, how a fort was laid out, how many yojanas the army could travel in a day, how to use elephants in warfare. (Pro tip: you can use a line of elephants as a makeshift bridge to cross a river!) That is, it’s a treasure trove of information useful in conworlding.

This will take a few posts to work through.  Let’s start with the low-hanging fruit: magical formulas!

(As a warning, this is Kautilya at his worst and most credulous. But it’s entertaining.)

  • A powder made from lizards or stinking insects, a black snake, and panic seed, will cause instantaneous death.
  • For a longer death, try root of vyaghata (Casia fistula), flower of bhallataka (Semecarpus nacardium), and essence of an insect.  (Mad props to the translator, R. Shamasastry, for working out the botanical names.) The dosage for killing a man must be doubled to kill a horse, and quadrupled to kill an elephant.
  • Smoke from the burning of krikalasa (a lizard) and grihagaulika (a house-lizard) causes leprosy.
  • You can turn an animal white using oil prepared from mustard seeds kept for seven nights in the urine of a white goat. Didn’t work? Did you keep it in a bitter gourd for a month and a half?
  • Another way to bring on leprosy: make paste from gunja seeds which have been kept for seven nights in the mouth of a white cobra. (Is the cobra dead?  Doesn’t say. If not, that’s some impressive snake training.  And if it is, I’m not sure I want to retrieve seeds from a snake left out in the Indian sun for a week.)
  • The powder of a firefly mixed with mustard oil emits night at light. One of the few believable recipes!
  • A serum applied by roasting a pregnant camel along with saptaparna (Lechites scholaris) will make a journey of a hundred yojanas fatigue-free. If you have no pregnant camel on hand, dead children roasted in cremation grounds will do. This may be hard to get past the ethics committee at your lab.
  • Fast for three nights, then take the skull of a man who has been killed with a weapon. Grow barley in it, irrigating with goat milk. Make a garland from the sprouts; it will make you invisible.
  • Make a sack from the clothes of a man who died of natural causes, and fill it with the ashes of a dead Brahmin. You can then put the sack on your back and walk about invisible. Or perhaps people will just be too polite to acknowledge your presence.
  • Fast seven nights, get hold of three white hairs from a porcupine, and make a fire with 108 pieces of the khadira tree (Mimosa catechu), along with honey and ghee. Chant a certain mantra while burying one of the hairs at the entrance to a village.  All the animals in the village will fall asleep.

Now, I don’t actually blame Kautilya for repeating this nonsense. It’s evident that he is basing his book on earlier books.  He doesn’t say he tried any of this; he’s obviously copying down similar lists from the library. This is the last chapter of the book, so he’s already given you the standard and much more plausible methods of statecraft. His attitude is obviously “This stuff might come in handy if all else fails, so here it is.”

What’s more intriguing is the mindset of whoever created these recipes. The thing that makes them implausible is the very thing that makes them hard to check: the plethora of arcane ingredients.  If someone claims to have alchemical knowledge, and someone pesters them hard enough for a recipe, this is exactly the sort of thing they’d come up with. Extra points if the ingredients are disgusting (thus the urine and ground-up lizards) or impious (Brahmins’ ashes). The questioner, without modern chemical knowledge, can hardly say “That can’t possibly work”; all he can do is write down the recipe and slink away.

Of course, it’s also possible some of these recipes ‘worked’, in the sense that some of the plants and animal products involved had some effect.  E.g. Casia fistula is used in Ayurvedic medicine as a “purgative”.  Maybe if you used enough of it, you could make someone sick, who knows.  Few of the recipes have convincing details, though, like precise dosages.

Anyway, if this whets your appetite, you can read the whole thing here.  The recipes are found in Chapter XIV.

Part Two, Three, Four

Paul Ryan worked out his health care bill in a GOP-only clubhouse and rushed it through committees before the CBO had estimated the impact, but unfortunately for him legislation has to be published eventually, so now we can take a look at Trumpcare. It isn’t pretty.


Here’s a good overview from Vox. Bottom line: Trumpcare will throw 14 million people off insurance immediately, and 24 million more in the next ten years, in order to give a $600 billion tax cut to billionaires who don’t need it.

The CBO estimates that a 64-year-old earning $26,500 a year, who currently pays $1700 a year for health care (i.e., after the Obamacare subsidy), would pay a whopping $14,600 under Trumpcare. Republican assholes think this person can just give up their iPhone, but of course the reality is that this person can’t afford that kind of “access to healthcare”.  They will go without insurance.  If they need the coverage, they will die.

And they probably voted for Trump.  Trumpcare is hardest on older people and rural areas, precisely the people who supported Trump and believed his lies about “terrific” health insurance that would cover “everybody”.

We’re used to Trump lying by now, but today’s point is that the GOP plan is the end result of years and years of Republican lies. The chief architect of this fiasco is Paul Ryan, a man who has a wholly undeserved reputation as an honest policy wonk, among pundits who desperately want to find such an animal in his party. In fact he’s a Randite whose only actual policy concern is to give the 1% more money and tear up the social safety net. It’s right there in his bill, but his public statements are full of polished lies about “choice” and “access” and the supposed evils of Obamacare.

Now, Republicans could, if they chose, be absolutely honest about their preferences. They could say they don’t believe in the government providing health care; that they are only governing to benefit billionaires; that they want to phase out Medicaid; that insurers should be able to deny coverage to whoever they want and make insurance unaffordable for the old and sick.  Probably two thirds of their voters would completely accept this— so long as they didn’t touch Medicare and Social Security. And as I’ve said before, repealing Obamacare is basically a return to the status quo of 2013.

But obviously this would be a political disaster with the muddy center of American politics, the 20% of the electorate which bounces left and right like a bobblehead and determines who actually wins elections.  Obamacare has insured millions of people who didn’t have coverage before; those folks like their new coverage, and are pissed that Republicans want to take it away. This is particularly important in the 20 Republican-led states which accepted Obamacare’s Medicaid expansions.

Klein and Schiff in the linked article make an excellent point about affordability. When health care wonks talk about health care affordability, they mean the nation spending less on health care. The liberal ones mean restraining the absurdly high prices of American health care (no other nation pays so much for so little). The conservatives mean reducing demand for health care. (Conservatives are convinced that everyone but themselves are hypochondriacs who only go to the doctor because their job or the government pays for it.)

When ordinary people talk about health care affordability, they mean what they themselves pay. People on expanded Medicaid are pretty happy: there are no deductibles and they can go to the doctor.  People on the marketplaces (like myself) are more likely to be unhappy, because deductibles have gone way up, and restrictions on who you can see have become way more cumbersome. But it’s still better than the pre-Obamacare options.

The thing is, Republicans have unwisely echoed those complaints— which means they are expected to do something about them.  You can’t say “the problem with Obamacare is high deductibles” and then create a Trumpcare that costs people 7 times as much.  That’s the problem with lying; it eventually catches up with you.

As Matt Yglesias has said, why don’t they just leave health care alone and just pass a tax cut? Mostly because Ryan and his co-conspirators thought that healthcare was low-hanging fruit. After all, they’d “repealed” Obamacare more than 30 times! The base would love them! They didn’t expect their town halls to be filled with angry constituents and the popularity of Obamacare to go up. And it’s apparently very hard for legislators to give up on a tactic and go try something else.

Ryan also seemed to expect that Republicans would just fall in line. The biggest wildcard, Trump himself, was no problem; his promises on health care turned out to be garbage. But a bunch of more-moderate Republicans in the Senate are terrified of being blamed for the catastrophe of Trumpcare, and a bunch of ultra-conservatives in the House are furious because some poor people will still get government assistance. There’s no way to make both groups happy at the same time, and it’s hard to picture how to threaten both wings to make them back down.

(The bill has to pass the House first, so the obvious “solution” is to make Trumpcare worse now, to appease the loonies, and then let the Senate deal with it somehow.)

(Maybe another lie will save the bill: promise that the real Trumpcare will be done later, and fix all the problems. Thing is, Ryan’s bill is somewhat limited by his insistence on passing it as a reconciliation bill, with zero Democratic support, but also no Democratic filibuster, because that’s the magic of reconciliation bills. The later bill would have to have Democratic votes. But if they had, or wanted, Democratic votes, they’d be pursuing them right now. The later better bill is a myth.)

Health care is hard, but all these problems are essentially of the GOP’s own making. The real problems people have with Obamacare could be easily solved with a magic ingredient: money.  But this solution isn’t available to Ryan, because he’s lost the old Reagan-Bush magic of approving of government spending when Republicans do it.  He’s created a mess for himself and the country, just to get that tax cut.