THE CHINESE RULE IN KASHGAR.
The Chinese conquest of Jungaria and Eastern Turkestan having become an
accomplished fact, what did the new rulers do to justify their forcible
interference in Central Asia? What measures did they adopt to conciliate
the subject peoples, and what to increase the prosperity of a vast
region, naturally fertile, but impoverished by centuries of improvident
government and of civil anarchy and war? Did they follow the precedent
that had been set them by every past ruler of those countries, and leave
the people to their own devices, to starve or to exist as best they
might, so long as the tribute money was forthcoming? Did the Chinese
Viceroys of Ili, or their lieutenants in Kashgar, Yarkand, Aksu, or
Kucha adopt a policy of inaction, and pursue a line of conduct of
unprincipled selfishness in advancing their own personal fortunes, and
thus prove that they were of the same stamp as all other Asiatic
despots, careless of the day and utterly regardless of the morrow? The
best way to see how they acted, what they did, and what they did not
that was possible, is to follow their rule in Kashgar with some
attention. In itself this may be found to be no uninstructive lesson for
us, who are also a great governing people; and from the perusal of what
the Chinese administrators did in Central Asia we may arise willing to
accord them high praise, because we are better able than other nations
to appreciate the difficulties of their task.
After the fall of Amursana, the Chinese, in the first place, organized
their administrative system upon the following basis:--The supreme
authority was vested in the hands of the Viceroy of Ili. Under him an
amban, or lieutenant-governor, administered affairs in Kashgar. His
place of abode was Yarkand. In internal matters the Yarkand Amban was
without a superior south of the Tian Shan, but in external affairs he
only acted in subordination to the Viceroy of Ili, who alone was in
communication with Pekin. Under each of these potentates there were the
usual deputy-ambans and Tay Dalays, or military commanders. All the
cities had Gulbaghs constructed outside of them, and these forts were
held by Chinese troops--that is, by a mixture of Khitay and Tungani. It
is computed that 20,000 troops used to garrison Kashgar and the
neighbourhood alone. The military posts were restricted to Chinamen, and
the higher judicial and administrative offices were also withheld from
the subjected race. But these were the only privileges retained by the
Chinese.
The Khan, or chief Amban, who resided in Yarkand, made all the
appointments to the minor offices, which were filled almost exclusively
by Mahomedans. The only precaution the Chinese seem to have taken was to
refuse employment to a Kashgari in his native town, so that a Yarkandi
would have to go to Aksu, or some other place away from his home, if he
desired to participate in the government of his country. But beyond this
there was no restriction, and nominally the Hakim Beg, the highest
Mussulman officer, ranked on an equality with the Chinese amban. His
subordinates were all Mahomedans, with the exception of his personal
guard of Khitay troops. In the hands of these natives of the country lay
all the administration of justice among their co-religionists, the
collection of the revenue, and the levying of customs dues on the
frontier and of trade taxes in the cities. It was only when cause for
litigation arose between a Buddhist and a Mussulman that the amban
interfered. We have therefore the instructive spectacle before us of a
Buddhist conquest becoming harmonized with Mussulman institutions, and
Chinese arrogance not content with tolerating, but absolutely fostering,
a regime to which its hostility was scarcely concealed. This is the only
instance of the Chinese exhibiting such more than Asiatic restraint
towards Mahomedans; for their dealings with Tibet, a country of peculiar
sanctity and Buddhist as well, is not a case in point. The scheme worked
well, however. Chinese strength was husbanded by being employed only
when absolutely necessary to be called into play, and the people, to a
great degree their own masters, did not realise the fact of their being
a subjected nation. Their first anxiety was the payment of their
taxes--far from exorbitant, as it had been under their own rulers; but
that task accomplished, they could free their minds from care.
Very often their own countryman, the Hakim Beg, was a greater tyrant
than the Chinese amban in the fort outside their gates; but against his
exactions they could obtain speedy redress. When their Hakims, or Wangs
as the Chinese called them, became unpopular in a district, the amban
promptly removed them; even if he considered they were not much to
blame, he always transferred them to some other district. The first
object in the eyes of the amban was the maintenance of order, and he
knew well enough that order could not be maintained, unless he resorted
to force, which he studiously avoided, if the people were discontented.
The people therefore could repose implicit trust in the Chinese amban
securing a fair hearing and justice for them in their disagreements with
their own leaders; and the Mussulman Wangs, who were the old ruling
class, saw the unfortunate tax-payer at last secure from their tyranny
through the clemency of a Buddhist conqueror. We are justified in
assuming that the population saw the force of these patent facts, and
that, if not perfectly to be relied on in any emergency, the Chinese had
no danger to expect from the tax-producing and patient Kashgari.
So long as the Chinese rule remained vigorous--that is, for about the
first fifty years--the Ambans worked in perfect concord with the Wangs,
and through them with the people. But the internal relations between
these various personages became more complicated and less cordial
through the importation, about the beginning of this century, of a fresh
factor into the question. The Chinese had granted the cities west of,
and including, Aksu very considerable privileges in carrying on trade
with Khokand; and in the course of commercial intercourse a Khokandian
element was slowly imported into these cities, when it became a people
within a people, enjoying the prosperity to be derived from the Chinese
Empire, but not experiencing any sentiment of gratitude towards those by
whom the favours were conferred. After some years, when these Khokandian
immigrants had become numerous, the Chinese acquiesced in their
selecting a responsible head for each community, and this head, or
Aksakal, was nominated by the Khan of Khokand, the only temporal
sovereign these people recognized. The creation of this third power in
the state, which was first sanctioned as a matter of convenience, was to
be fraught with the direst consequences for the Chinese. The Khitay
would be justified in saying that the Aksakals were "the cause of all
their woe," in Kashgar at all events. The Aksakals were far too prudent
to challenge the supremacy of the Chinese officials, and their first
object was rather to make themselves independent of the Wangs than to
compete with the Ambans. In this they were successful, for the Chinese
neglected to take into account the dangers that might arise from these
same bustling, intriguing, and alien Aksakals. The Wangs had always been
obedient vassals, but the plausibility of the Aksakals put them on a par
with their rivals. The Chinese washed their hands of the quarrel, and
may have imagined that their rule was made more assured by divisions
among the Mussulmans. In this they were mistaken. The Aksakals, who
after a time repudiated their obligations to the Wangs, became the
centre of all the intrigue that marked the last half-century of Chinese
rule, and, puffed up by their triumph over the Wangs, did not hesitate
to challenge the right of the Ambans to exercise jurisdiction over them.
But of this more later on.
While the Chinese adopted these liberal measures in their dealings with
the Mussulman population, they did not neglect those other duties which
belong to the government by right. The greatest benefit they could
confer was of course the preservation of order, and to maintain the
balance impartially between the numerous litigants was the first article
in the creed of the Chinese viceroys. As tranquillity settled down over
these distracted regions, trade revived. The native industries, which
had greatly fallen off, became once more active; and foreign enterprise
was attracted to this quarter, which Chinese power soon made the most
favoured region in Central Asia. But the rulers did not rest content
with the mere preservation of good order. They did not leave it to the
inclination of an indolent people to progress at as tortoise-like a
speed as they would wish; but they themselves set the example which the
rest felt bound to imitate. Not only did the enterprising Khitay
merchant from Kansuh and Szchuen visit the marts of Hamil and Turfan,
but many of this class penetrated into Kashgar proper, where they became
permanent settlers. These invaluable agents supplied the deficiency that
had never before been filled up in the life of the state, for they
brought the highest qualities of enterprise and practical sagacity,
together with capital, as their special characteristics. In the train of
these Khitay merchants came wealth and increased prosperity. Yarkand,
Kashgar, Aksu, and Khoten became cities of the first rank, and the
population of the country in the year 1800 was greater than it had ever
been before.
There was perfect equality too between all the various races in respect
to trade. The Chinese did not demand special immunities for their own
countrymen, as might have been expected. The Khitay, who came all the
way from Lanchefoo in search of a fortune, must be prepared to compete
in an equal race with the Khokandi, the Kashgari, or the Afghan. His
nationality would obtain for him no immunity from being taxed, or could
give him no advantage over the foreign or native traders. The main
portion of the trade of the country remained in the old hands. Khokand
benefited as much as Kashgar by the trade, and China, in a direct
manner, least of the three.
The Chinese have at all times been justly famous for their admirable
measures for irrigating their provinces. The wonderful canals which cut
their way, where there are no great rivers, in China proper are
reproduced even in this outlying dependency. Eastern Turkestan is one of
the worst-watered regions in the world. In fact there is only a belt of
fertile country round the Yarkand river, stretching away eastward along
the slopes of the Tian Shan as far as Hamil. The few small rivers which
are traced here and there across the map are during many months of the
year dried up, and even the Yarkand then becomes an insignificant
stream. To remedy this, and to husband the supply as much as possible,
the Chinese sank dykes in all directions. By this means the cultivated
country was slowly but surely spread over a greater extent of territory,
and the vicinity of the three cities of Kashgar, Yangy Hissar, and
Yarkand became known as the garden of Asia. Corn and fruit grew in
abundance, and from Yarkand to the south of the Tian Shan the traveller
could pass through one endless orchard. On all sides he saw nothing but
plenty and content, peaceful hamlets and smiling inhabitants. These
were the outcome of a Chinese domination.
The Chinese, besides possessing a dual line of communication with their
own country, one north and the other south of the Tian Shan, had also a
caravan route from Khoten to Lhasa, the capital of Tibet. There was also
some intercourse with Cashmere by this way. The jade, for which Khoten
was justly, and is still, famous, was exported in immense quantities,
both to Tibet and to China, through Maralbashi. This mineral was held in
high esteem by Chinese ladies, and alone sufficed to make the prosperity
of Khoten assured. Gold, silk, and musk, were other articles included in
the commerce of this flourishing city. There was also, in the Chinese
time, a very extensive manufacture of carpets and cotton goods. The gold
mines, which, with two exceptions, have not been worked since the same
time, are believed to be scarcely touched, and only await a fostering
hand to be put in working order once more.
The Chinese also devoted great attention to the coal mines in the
vicinity of Aksu, and these were worked both by private enterprise and
the Government. Coal was an article of common use in that city, but it
does not appear to have been exported beyond the neighbourhood. It is
known that the Chinese took greater interest in the development of the
internal means of wealth of the country than in inducing foreigners to
enter it. Thus, we see that mines, in a special degree, received state
approval and support. The gold mines of Khoten, the coal of Aksu, and
the zinc of Kucha, are all conspicuous instances of this; as, under all
past, and the recent Mahomedan, rule, they have been most foolishly, but
consistently neglected.
Nor were those special trades for which Kashgar had in prosperous
moments been renowned, neglected. The leather-dressers of Yarkand and
Aksu, the silk-mercers of Kashgar and Khoten, were never so busy as in
the warlike days of Keen-Lung, and the great mass of the people, the
agricultural class in the villages, was equally prosperous and well
governed. Trade was fostered on all sides, and the conquering power was
content to stand aside and witness the steady progress of its subjects
towards hitherto unattained and unattainable prosperity.
Lastly, the Chinese directed their attention to the improvement of the
means of communication between one part of the province and another. It
was absolutely necessary to the security of their rule that there should
be an easy and always open road between Ili and Kashgar. Therefore, a
way was cut, at great expense, through the Tian Shan, north of Aksu, and
this pass was known as the Muzart, or Glacier. So difficult was the
country through which it passed, and such the danger from ice-drifts and
snow-storms, that relays of men had to be kept constantly at work in
order to prevent it getting out of repair for a day. The construction of
this road was, in the first place, most expensive, but, perhaps, the
cost of repairing was much more. This, the most striking engineering
achievement of the Chinese, has become practically useless, through
fifteen years of neglect. If China is to regain Ili, it will, no doubt,
be restored. The passes west of this, by the Narym River to Vernoe, and
through Terek to Khokand, were those selected by Yakoob Beg to supply
its place.
The next object to which the Chinese specially paid attention was the
preservation of their road home to China. Thus the road in Tian Shan Pe
Lu, and the other in Tian Shan Nan Lu, were kept in the most effective
state possible. The former, north of the mountains, passed through Manas
and Urumtsi to Hamil; the latter, south of them, through Aksu and Kucha
to the same place. The alternative route from Kucha to Kashgar and
Yarkand, through Maralbashi, was also much used, more especially,
however, by those who desired to break off at that outpost in the desert
to reach Khoten and Sanju. In each city there was appointed a committee
to superintend the roads in the district, and this Road Board was a
highly important and useful corporation. It was by such measures as
these that the Chinese made their rule a blessing to Kashgar and
Jungaria for more than fifty years. Of course, there was the fiscal side
of these schemes of public utility. Roads could not be opened up and
maintained in order, canals could not be dug, the state could not
administer justice, promote trade, and make itself respected abroad,
without an assured revenue, and this revenue, after the first ten years,
was very productive.
The principal taxes were the tithe on the produce of the land, called
"_ushr_" and the _zakat_ (fortieth), on merchandise and cattle. Then, in
the cities, there was a house tax, which was essentially, like our own
income tax, a war tax, fluctuating in accordance with the military
necessities, caused by foreign or civil war. From the mines, too, the
state derived a large annual sum, which was generally devoted to some
object of public utility. There was also the tribute money from the
Kirghiz nomads, whose flocks and horses were numbered and taxed at a low
rate, in return for which they were taken under the protection of China.
In addition to these great taxes there were several smaller ones, such
as a fee on fuel sold in the market, and another levy on milch-kine kept
in cities. A writer on Kashgar has said that these "proved a ready means
of oppression, and a prolific source of that discontent which left the
rulers without a single helping hand, or sympathising heart, in the hour
of their distress and destruction." But this assumption of cause and
effect is scarcely just.
Of course, all taxes can be made a ready means of oppression by the
tax-gatherer, who, in this case, was a Mussulman and fellow-countryman.
But taxes are absolutely necessary to all good government, and when we
consider what China did with her revenue, with what public spirit her
representatives laid it out in plans for the advantage of the state, can
we pronounce an opinion that she imposed unfair burdens on the
subjected race? Moreover, no one denies the prosperity general
throughout Kashgar in those days, a period looked back to with regret by
the inhabitants during the most favoured years of Yakoob Beg's rule. It
is not in accordance with facts, then, to imply that the Chinese ground
Kashgar under them by severe taxation, and whatever petty tyranny there
was, was carried on not by the Khitay Ambans, but by the Mahomedan
Wangs.
In the hour of distress and destruction the people, indeed, proved
traitorous to their best friends, or, more generally, apathetic; leaving
to the energetic Andijani element within their gates the task of
crossing swords with Buddhist rule, to which the hostility of these
immigrants had always been declared.
The short-sightedness of the Kashgari played the game of the more
fanatical and ambitious people of Khokand; but the rule of China did not
pass out of Eastern Turkestan until the disturbances of forty years had
generated ill-feeling that formerly was not, and had so embittered the
relations of governing and governed, that what had come to be considered
a lenient and impersonal government, assumed all the darker hues of a
military and foreign despotism. Even then China did not fall until there
was dissension within herself, when, split into three hostile camps, her
sword dropped nerveless from her hand in Central Asia, 2,000 miles away
from her natural border. To follow Chinese rule in Kashgar down to 1820,
is to observe the monotonous course of never varying prosperity. From
that year to 1860, the tale is of a different complexion, less
monotonous but also less satisfactory.
In 1758 and 1760 Chinese armies entered Khokand. Tashkent fell in the
former year, and the capital in the latter. The Chinese then withdrew,
after imposing a tribute upon Khokand. During the long reign of
Keen-Lung--that is, down to 1795--the tribute was regularly paid. After
that year, however, the payment became irregular, and border warfare of
frequent occurrence between the two neighbours. At last, in 1812,
Khokand, then under an able prince, refused to pay tribute any longer,
and the Chinese acquiesced in the repudiation. Nor did the change in the
relations between China and Khokand stop here; for, a few years
afterwards, the Chinese found it expedient to pay Khokand an annual sum
to keep the Khoja family, whose representatives were residing in
Khokand, from intriguing against them. The amount of the subsidy was
L3,500 of our money. In addition to this, the Khan of Khokand was
permitted to levy a tax on all Mahomedan merchandise sold in Kashgar
through Andijan merchants. This tax was collected by the Aksakals before
mentioned, and was a very profitable source of income for the
impecunious khans. But even these concessions and perquisites did not
satisfy the Mussulmans of Central Asia, who saw in Chinese moderation an
evidence of weakness and decline. The Aksakals, in these years of
Mahomedan revival, became political agents of the greatest importance.
It was they who gave a point to all the discontent there might be in
Kashgar; it was they who attributed to the Chinese the blame for
whatever evils this world is never wholly free from; and it was they who
agitated for the return of the old Khoja kings, who were always
destined, in their eyes, to bring the most perfect happiness. With such
causes at work both within and without their position, the Chinese had
not to wait long before their authority was more openly challenged.
Sarimsak, the only member of the Khoja family surviving the massacre by
the Chinese, had fled, as a child, into the impenetrable recesses of
Wakhan. From thence, in later years, he had gone to settle in Khokand,
where he married. This prince had three sons--Yusuf, Bahanuddin, and
Jehangir, the youngest and best known. In 1816, the first outbreak
against Chinese authority occurred, when a small rising took place in
Tash Balik, a town to the west of Kashgar. This was speedily put down,
and its leaders executed. It was but the forerunner of the storm.
In 1822, Jehangir resolved to reassert his claims over Kashgar, and,
while his eldest brother continued to reside in retirement at Bokhara,
he joined the Kara Kirghiz. With a party of these, under the command of
their chief, Suranchi Beg, Jehangir raided up to the city of Kashgar. He
was there repulsed in the suburbs, and compelled to flee. He then joined
the Kirghiz of Bolor round Narym, who were nominally feudatories of
China, and, with their aid, commenced a petty sort of border war. A
small Chinese force was despatched against him, and drove the Kirghiz up
as far as Fort Kurtka. On their return from this successful attack, they
were, however, surprised in one of the defiles, and almost all were
destroyed. This was the first reverse the Chinese had ever met with in
the field, and it was at once bruited about through all parts of Central
Asia. It gave a life to the Khoja cause which it had hitherto lacked,
and adventurers from all parts flocked to the standard Jehangir now
raised on the borders of Kashgar. The Khan of Khokand so far assisted
him as to send him a skilled general, Isa Dadkhwah, and extended over
his cause that protection and sanction which Khokand has ever since
thrown over the Khoja family.
In the spring of 1826, Jehangir advanced in force against Kashgar, and
the Chinese, despising their assailant, left their fortifications to
encounter him in the open. A battle then ensued, of which the
particulars have not come down to us, but which resulted in the defeat
of the Chinese. Jehangir entered Kashgar in triumph, was received with
acclamations by the people, urged on by the Aksakals, and proclaimed
himself sovereign of the country, under the style of Seyyid Jehangir
Sultan. His first act--the most significant exposure of the true
sentiment of the Kashgarian people there well could be--was to order
the execution of the Mahomedan Wang of Kashgar, by name Mahomed Seyyid.
The fall of Kashgar was the signal to the Aksakals throughout Altyshahr
to begin that work for which they had been long preparing. In Yangy
Hissar, Yarkand, and Khoten risings at once took place. The Chinese,
surprised and unarmed, were butchered in the streets, and the Gulbaghs,
as the visible token of the foreign rule, were razed with the ground.
The Gulbagh of Kashgar itself alone held out, but it at last fell, after
sustaining a long siege, into the hands of Jehangir. His triumph
completed, he had to concern himself more with his relations with
Khokand than about the Chinese, who were mysteriously quiet. Mahomed Ali
Khan, of Khokand, who thought that Jehangir's success was solely due to
him, laid claim to a certain historical superiority over his vassal of
Kashgar, to which the Khoja prince was not willing to assent. A large
Khokandian army which had been sent to Kashgar returned, after losing
1,000 men before the walls of the Gulbagh, and its withdrawal was the
signal for plots and counterplots to break out in the palace of the new
ruler. These he promptly repressed, reduced the intriguing general, Isa
Dadkhwah, in rank, and had emancipated himself from his thraldom to
Khokand, when the news came that the Chinese were at last returning.
Although the western portion of Altyshahr had fallen away from the
Chinese, Aksu and Maralbashi remained true to their allegiance. The
Chinese still possessed the military keys of the country. Moreover,
their possession of Ili gave them an enormous strategical advantage, and
in the Tungan population they possessed an almost inexhaustible supply
for recruiting "revindicating" armies. It is apropos here to state that
China retained both of these advantages down to the time of Buzurg Khan
and Yakoob Beg, and that, so long as she possessed them, the utmost
Mussulman fanaticism and Khokandian patronage of the Khojas could do
was futile against the arrest of fate. During six months Jehangir ruled
in Kashgar, and during six months the Chinese viceroy made his
preparations at Ili for a thorough revenge. An army of more than 100,000
men, raised from the Tungani, the Calmucks, and the Khitay garrison, was
despatched from Ili, and in January, 1827, entered Aksu. Here all the
brigades were concentrated, and the Viceroy, in conjunction with the
general under him, by name Chang-Lung, drew up the plan of campaign,
which was as follows:--A small army of 12,000 men was sent against
Khoten across the desert through Cay Yoli, while the remainder of the
host advanced on Maralbashi. Here another detachment of 7,000 strong was
directed against Yarkand, while the main body marched on Kashgar by the
banks of the Kizil Su.
Their advance was unopposed until they reached Yangabad, or Yangiawat,
where Jehangir had concentrated an army computed at 50,000 men, but
probably considerably less. When the armies sighted each other they
pitched their camps in preparation for the decisive contest that was at
hand. In accordance with immemorial custom, each side put forward on the
following day its champion. On the part of the Chinese a gigantic
Calmuck archer opposed on the part of Jehangir an equally formidable
Khokandi. The former was armed with his proper weapons, the latter with
a gun of some clumsy and ancient design, and while the Khokandi was
busily engaged with his intricate apparatus, the Chinese archer shot him
dead with an arrow through the breast. Of course, neither army would
have acquiesced in the decree of the God of Battles as shown by the fate
of its champion, but, in this case, it was true that--
"Who spills the foremost foeman's life,
His party conquers in the strife."
After a sharp, but brief, skirmish, the Kashgarian army withdrew in
confusion, and the following day the Chinese surrounded Kashgar on three
sides. During the night the heart of Jehangir misgave him, and he fled
to the Karatakka mountains. But here the snow had rendered the passes
impracticable, and, after hiding for a few days in that difficult
region, he was captured by the Chinese. His fate was that usually met
with by traitors to that empire, for, being sent to Pekin, he was
executed after torture. In this war Ishac Wang, of Ush Turfan, played a
great part against the Khoja prince, and was rewarded for his good
service by being appointed Wang of Kashgar. The Chinese constructed a
fresh fort, Yangyshahr, in the place of the destroyed Gulbagh, and left
a large Khitay garrison under Jah Darin. But Ishac Wang, who was given
some such title as Prince of Kashgar, was soon afterwards deposed and
recalled to China.
The Chinese authority was re-established without difficulty in the three
cities, and peace settled down over Eastern Turkestan. But the
repressive and punitive measures that the Chinese felt compelled to
adopt raised a bitterer sentiment in the minds of the people than had
previously existed. The Chinese were, indeed, only employing the same
weapons that had been used against themselves, but none the less did
these reciprocal atrocities dissipate whatever friendship there had
been. Among other acts the Chinese removed 12,000 Mahomedan families
from Kashgar to Ili, and these, destined to play an important part in
the history of that province, became known as Tarantchis, or Toilers.
The Chinese resolved to punish Khokand as well. They broke off all trade
with that state, and happy would it have been for them if they could
have continued to preserve a closed frontier. But the Khan of that time
was Mahomed Ali Khan, the most ambitious, as he was the ablest, of the
princes of that country. He had just annexed Karategin, and had acquired
some of the outlying provinces of Badakshan, which Mourad Beg, of
Kundus, had absorbed about the same time. It was not probable that he
would put up with the Chinese defiance. He was prudent enough to delay
his advance until the main body of their army had been withdrawn. But,
as soon as he was informed that the Chinese had gone back to Ili,
Mahomed Ali, calling Yusuf, Sarimsak's eldest son, from his retirement
in Bokhara, placed him at the head of an army, under the charge of his
own brother-in-law, Hacc Kuli Beg. The Chinese were worsted at Mingyol,
and all the cities west of Aksu turned against the Chinese, as before,
and proclaimed for Yusuf Khoja. Then the massacres were repeated, and
the invasion of Yusuf was that of Jehangir over again in exact detail.
But Yusuf's triumph was still more brief. Whereas Jehangir had ruled for
nine months, Yusuf only swayed the sceptre for three.
The Chinese movements were delayed by small Mussulman revolts in Barkul
and Shensi until the spring of 1831, but then, when they returned, they
found that Yusuf and the Khokandian army had retreated some months
before. The facts were that the moment Khokand invaded Kashgar, Bokhara
attacked Khokand, and Hacc Kuli Beg had to be recalled to cope with
matters more pressing than Khoja rights. With the general had gone
Yusuf, far from anxious to encounter the Chinese alone. The return of
the Khokandian army sufficed to dispel all danger from Bokhara, and, a
few months after, Mahomed Ali Khan recommenced operations--in the east
this time--against the Kirghiz under Chinese protection. The Chinese
were thoroughly sick of these petty disputes, and made a treaty with
Khokand, by which that state acquired fresh commercial privileges, in
addition to the old ones, and by which the importance of the Aksakals
rather increased than waned. Mahomed Ali Khan had acquired all he
wanted, and discouraged the Khoja party, as, indeed, the terms of this
treaty compelled him to do. The risings under Jehangir and Yusuf were
undoubtedly a great blow to Chinese prestige. To all appearance each had
nearly been successful, and the Chinese, whose prestige was enormous in
Central Asia--quite as great as that of Russia is now--had been, on one
or two occasions, openly defeated. But, after all, this was a little
matter compared to the shock the sentiments, called into being by sixty
happy years, had received. Between Buddhist and Mussulman, between
Chinaman and Central Asiatic, all the old antipathy was revived in the
butcheries of Yarkand and Kashgar. The Kashgari showed that they could
not appreciate the benefits they had received from China, and the
Chinese, enraged at the slaughter of their countrymen, and, perhaps,
also at the ingratitude evinced towards them, retaliated in kind. They
did not appreciate that moderation, which Europeans have not always
shown under similar circumstances, and wrought out their revenge in
their own ancient fashion. It is absolutely necessary that the reader
should remember that the two rapidly succeeding invasions of Jehangir
and Yusuf form a turning-point in the history of the Chinese rule in
Kashgar. Up to that epoch it is difficult to find words sufficient to do
justice to China's beneficent government there; after that year it would
be absurd to employ the same language. For the change the chief blame
must fall upon the fickle and ungrateful Kashgari themselves, and then
on the intriguing Andijanis. The Chinese are justified, at least, in
saying that, having for more than half a century ruled this people with
justice, they only relaxed in their efforts to promote its well-being
when their unarmed countrymen and soldiers had been surprised and
butchered by thousands.
Strange, and almost contradictory, as it may appear, there was a brief
respite during which things seemed to have got into their old groove of
happy prosperity; and the chief credit for this must be given to a
Mahomedan sub-governor of the Chinese viceroy. Zuhuruddin, such was his
name, had raised himself to the high post of Amban in Kashgar, a post
never before held by any other than a Khitay. By birth he was of
Kashgar, but he always represented himself as having been born and
brought up in Khokand, where he had been imprisoned for a political
offence. For seven or eight years he governed Kashgar to the perfect
satisfaction both of the people and of the Chinese, and among some of
his public acts may be mentioned the reconstruction of new forts outside
the cities, in the place of those destroyed in the recent revolts. These
were known now as Yangyshahr instead of Gulbagh. But in 1846
Zuhuruddin's rule was disturbed by hostilities on the part of Khokand
and the Khojas.
In 1845 Khudayar Khan had been called to the throne after the death of
Mahomed Ali, but his authority was not without its rivals. In the state
of confusion that then ensued, Khokandian adventurers urged the Khoja
princes, who were now represented by the sons of Jehangir, to renew
their old attacks against the Chinese. To these advisers the Khojas
turned a willing ear, and preparations were accordingly made for the
enterprise. At that time Khokand was full of adventurers to whom Mahomed
Ali had been able to give constant employment, but who now under the
more peaceful rule of Khudayar idled their time in the cities of that
khanate. Among these and the ever willing Kirghiz, it was not difficult
for the princes of Kashgar to raise an army, formidable in numbers, if
not remarkable for cohesion. At that time there were seven prominent
Khoja princes in Khokand, of whom we may here mention Eshan Khan,
usually called Katti Torah, Buzurg Khan, and Wali Khan. This inroad did
not take its name from any one of these, but from them all combined;
thus it was distinguished as Haft Khojagan, or that of the Seven Khojas.
With his brothers and relations and a considerable following, Katti
Torah advanced upon Kashgar, always the first object of these invaders,
which fell after a siege of thirteen days through treachery. This was
the only success they achieved; the other cities would have nothing to
do with them; and after two months' indulgence in unbridled licence the
Chinese beat them in a fight at Kok Robat, and drove them out of the
country. For the first time there was an air of ridicule thrown over
these Khoja invasions in the eyes of the Kashgari, while the outrages
they had committed during their brief stay had raised bitterer feelings
still. Zuhuruddin, who fell under the displeasure of the Chinese, was
removed from his post, and fresh Ambans, once more Khitay, were
appointed. For nine years the Khojas remained passive, but in 1855 Wali
Khan and his brother Kichik Khan, began to bustle once more on the
Kashgarian frontier. It was not until 1857 that Wali Khan succeeded in
forcing the advanced guard of pickets maintained in the passes by the
Chinese, but having accomplished that his triumph was rapid. Kashgar
fell into his possession by a _coup de main_, and once more a Khoja
prince was seated in the _orda_ at Kashgar. Artosh and Yangy Hissar fell
into his possession, and he threatened Yarkand. But everywhere the
Chinese garrisons remained unconquered in the forts, biding the
exhaustion of their foe and the arrival of reinforcements. After a rule
of nearly four months the armies of Wali Khan having been then defeated
by the Chinese, the Khoja fled to the remote state of Darwas, where he
was surrendered to Khokand by its chief Ismail Shah. This ruler, the
most tyrannical, bloodthirsty, and licentious of all the Khojas, met the
fate which he deserved long afterwards at the hands of Yakoob Beg. His
temporary tenure of power is still remembered with dread by the people,
who consider him to have been the most incarnate monster who ever held
the destinies of their country in his hand. The Chinese were more severe
in their punitive measures after this campaign than they had been after
any other, but, notwithstanding the part Khudayar and his people had
played in Wali Khan's affair, the old relations between "these
incompatible people," as Dr. Bellew aptly calls them, were restored.
After this event there was but one minor disturbance caused by an inroad
of Kirghiz nomads, headed by the sons of one of the principal victims of
Chinese vengeance, but this had no political importance.
The invasion of Wali Khan was the last of those Khoja expeditions which
took place prior to the Tungan revolt. In the thirty-two years that
elapsed from the date of Jehangir's attempt to that of his son, there
had in all been four of them. That of Jehangir himself being the first;
of his elder brother Yusuf, the second; of Yusuf's eldest son, Katti
Torah, the third; and of Jehangir's second son, Wali, the fourth. Not
one of these is in any sense noteworthy, except for the crimes with
which it was attended, and none of them did more than inflict an untold
amount of misery and suffering on their own followers, as well as on the
people they claimed to represent by right divine. It may also be noticed
that with each enterprise there was a decline in moral character. Thus
Jehangir was infinitely the best of them in every sense, and ruled
fairly according to his lights. His brother Yusuf was of a more timid
mind, but evidently not less imbued with some notion as to the sanctity
of his mission. But from these to Katti Torah is a long descent. That
prince seemed to aspire to securing his personal comfort and enjoyment
alone, and disregarded all his subjects' complaints at the arbitrary
rule of his deputies. But Wali Khan, the next of these Khoja kings from
"over the mountains," excelled his cousin in vice, and tyranny, and
utter want of purpose, not to speak of honour, quite as much as Katti
Torah surpassed their sires. Nor can there be much hesitation in saying,
from what Buzurg Khan did during the few months he held power, that, had
not Yakoob Beg clipped his flight, he would have surpassed Wali Khan in
his own peculiar vices. The reader will scarcely be disposed to take
much interest in this irredeemable family, mad with the insanity of
wickedness. But in justice to the Chinese, and to Yakoob Beg, it is only
right that the rivals of the former should be made to appear in their
true colours. All the sanctity that a peculiarly venerable descent from
Hazrat Afak could give; all the stories told of the good deeds of some
of their ancestors; all the affection that naturally attaches to a
native rule, and all the dislike that must undermine a foreign, be it
never so beneficent; all these things were destroyed by the weakness and
ill success that attended the first two Khojas, and by the cruelty,
indifference, and licentiousness that marked the last two. When Buzurg
Khan came he found loyalty to the Khoja the heirloom of a few families,
not of a people.
Had the Chinese restrained their vindictive feelings after the war with
Jehangir, and proclaimed a free pardon to every one save the Khokandis,
and then devoted their attention with the old vigour to peaceful
pursuits, we believe that the Chinese rule would have been permanently
secured. At that moment the Chinese were strong enough to have defied
Khokand, and to have broken off all intercourse with that state. By
dismissing the Aksakals, and severing the connection between the two
states, the Chinese would have dispelled a danger that was for forty
years to be ever before them, and, in the end, when the Tungani also
rose, was to overcome them. Even clemency after Yusuf's inroad, which
was really caused by the Chinese repressions, might not have been wholly
in vain, and would have consolidated their position, when reinvigorated
by Zuhuruddin's tenure of power. But the Chinese did not appreciate the
quality of mercy. They could be just and impartial in the ordinary
avocations of life, but to those who revolted against their authority
they showed no trace of human feeling. For a man to rebel against them
was certain death; for a people, history tells us, the fate was not far
different. Nor in dealing with such did they hesitate to supplement
their military strength by the most despicable of artifices. Garrisons,
accorded honourable terms, ruthlessly butchered; princes, who threw
themselves on their mercy, deported to Pekin to be hanged or tortured
out of life: these are frequent occurrences in the history of China, and
of her career in Central Asia the tale is identical. Yet, while drawing
a veil over these blots on an otherwise brilliant surface, should we not
desire to conceal them wholly from the view. It is necessary that they
should be stated to understand what Chinese domination means as a whole;
of its great benefits there can be no doubt, if the people will remain
quiescent. For fifty years, or for five hundred, China will rule an
unmurmuring people with justice, and lead them into the paths of
prosperity and peace; but if they rebel, if they openly defy authority,
if they invite a hostile stranger within their borders, the punishment
will be as sweeping, as cruel, and, in one and a higher sense, as
wrongfully foolish, whether the association of the races may have been
for fifty years or five centuries, as it was in the case of Kashgar.
There is not much reason for hoping that China will deviate from her
ancient custom, on the occasion now transpiring, of demanding "an eye
for an eye" and "a tooth for a tooth."