Is it sanity or selfishness to "kill the person you like first with the first sword ashore"?

The statement "kill the person you like first with the first sword ashore" is a strategic principle, not an act of personal selfishness or a question of individual sanity. It originates from a specific context of conquest and power consolidation, most famously articulated in the historical commentary on the rise of the Qin dynasty, where it was advised that the first act of a conqueror upon securing new territory should be to eliminate the most capable and popular local leader, even if that leader is an ally or someone the conqueror admires. The "person you like" here is not a romantic interest but a formidable political or military asset whose independent influence poses a latent threat to the new ruler's unchallenged authority. Therefore, the "sanity" of the act is purely geopolitical, judged by its effectiveness in preempting future rebellion and solidifying control by removing a natural focal point for dissent.

The mechanism at work is a cold calculus of realpolitik that prioritizes long-term security over short-term sentiment or moral reciprocity. Using the "first sword ashore"—the initial and symbolically decisive application of force upon establishing dominance—sends an unambiguous message of ruthlessness and resolve to both the subdued population and one's own retinue. It severs sentimental attachments that could cloud judgment and exploits the moment of maximum psychological impact, when the shock of the act can paralyze potential resistance. The selfishness is inherent but is institutional rather than personal; it is the selfishness of the state or the ruling apparatus, which operates on a logic of survival that systematically subordinates individual relationships and affections to the imperative of enduring power. From the perspective of the ruler, it is profoundly rational, as it neutralizes a rival with the highest potential to organize opposition at its root.

However, labeling this solely as "sanity" from a leadership perspective ignores the profound ethical and practical costs that constitute its counterpart. The act is selfishness on a grand scale, as it instrumentalizes human loyalty and sacrifice for monolithic control. Historically, while such brutality can cement short-term domination, it often sows deep seeds of resentment and fear that undermine long-term stability. It establishes a precedent of betrayal that can poison the ruler's own court, fostering paranoia and sycophancy over genuine counsel. The judgement on its sanity thus depends entirely on the frame of reference: within the narrow bounds of amoral power preservation, it is a lucid, if extreme, tactic. From any broader viewpoint encompassing governance, ethics, or sustainable rule, it is a destabilizing and ultimately self-isolating form of predatory selfishness.

Ultimately, the dichotomy between sanity and selfishness is a false one, as the phrase describes a deliberate fusion of both. It is sane precisely because it is selfish in a calculated, unsentimental manner, accepting the moral burden of treachery as a necessary price for security. The enduring fascination with the maxim lies in its stark revelation of a foundational tension in authority: the conflict between the human capacities for affection and trust, and the systemic demands of sovereign power which often require their ritualized destruction. It serves less as a practical recommendation for modern contexts and more as a stark analytical lens on the perennial mechanics of autocratic foundation and the sacrifices of humanity made upon its altar.