FOREIGNERS IN CHINA—THE ATTITUDE OF THE CHINESE TOWARDS WESTERN
CIVILIZATION
Concessions successively made by China to foreigners after the Wars of
1842, 1858–60, and 1895–98—Increasing tension between the Chinese
and Europeans in consequence of the latter desiring to extend
their action—Refusal of Europeans to conform to Chinese
usages—Frequent breaches made by them against the rules and
traditional customs of the Chinese—Contempt in which Western
civilization is held by the Chinese notwithstanding their
acknowledgment of its power and material advancement—This hostile
spirit more marked among the literati, who direct public opinion,
than among the people.
The position of foreigners in the Middle Kingdom has been defined by
various formal conventions, the first of which was the Treaty of
Nanking, signed between England and China after the war of 1842, known
in history as the Opium War. This was followed in 1844 by other treaties
upon the same subject with France and the United States, and still later
with other nations; in 1858 the treaties of Tien-tsin, which were
concluded with France and England after a short war, but which were not
ratified until 1860, after a much more serious campaign and the entry of
the allied troops into Peking, greatly ameliorated the condition of
foreigners in the Celestial Empire. Lastly, in 1895, the treaty of
Shimonosaki, imposed upon China by victorious Japan, gave fresh
facilities to foreign commerce. It is a characteristic fact, however,
that no serious concession has been obtained from China until after a
disastrous war, the Government of Peking never ceding to persuasion,
only to force.
Since the sixteenth century Europeans have been able, as the Arabs and
Malays had before them, to carry on commerce with Canton without being
molested, simply because they did not show any intention of extending
their commerce further. But in the second quarter of the present century
they became more numerous and exacting, and tension began to manifest
itself. The pride of the Westerners, who were more than ever convinced
of the superiority of their civilization, and whose progress at home was
making giant strides, burned to impose their ideas upon the whole world,
and thereby wounded the equally great pride of the Chinese, stubbornly
attached to those very ancient customs so haughtily despised by the
barbarians, as they were pleased to call us. The port of Canton,
consecrated by tradition as the exchangemart between foreigners and
natives, no longer sufficed for European ambition, and a clamour was
raised to get rid of the twelve merchants, or _hongs_, to whom the
Chinese Government had conceded the monopoly of trading with the outer
world. The foreigners, moreover, demanded the right to deal with
whomsoever they pleased, and refused to submit any longer to the
arbitrary taxation and treatment to which they had hitherto been
subjected by the local authorities. These demands and others of a
similar character, which appear to us perfectly reasonable, were
considered exorbitant by the Chinese. To our incessant protests they
answered exactly as they had done twenty—nay, fifty—years before, that
we wished to compel them to do in their own country exactly as we chose,
whereas, considering that we were their guests, the contrary should be
the case, and that we ought to submit to their ways, however
objectionable they might seem to us, and even contrary to the interests
and development of our commerce. This is precisely what Europe to-day,
as then, refuses to admit, unless the Chinese very considerably mend
their ways, being of opinion that so vast a country has no right to
refuse to allow its wealth being exploited for the benefit of humanity,
and that if it cannot, either through want of goodwill or of the
necessary means, turn it to account itself, it should allow others who
possess implements perfected for the purpose to use them. In short,
Europe demands the right not only to trade, but also to exploit, and she
intends to have it, whatever may be the consequences.
This radical difference in looking at the same thing is the origin of
every difficulty that exists between the Powers and the Celestial
Empire. The peoples of the West, once they have made up their minds that
a thing is likely to further their interests, insist upon its being
carried into effect whether the Chinese like it or not, and care very
little whether they offend the prejudices or even the sanctity of
Chinese tradition. It is not merely in matters of commercial
transactions that foreigners behave thus, but also with regard to
religion. We profess the most profound admiration and respect for those
men who at the risk of their lives bring the Gospel to those who know it
not, and who sacrifice everything in the hope of saving souls, and we
are thoroughly convinced of the vast superiority of the teaching of
Jesus Christ over that of Confucius. Christianity, however, upsets not
only the traditions, but also the foundations of Chinese society. No
Government of Europe would tolerate a religion which advocated polygamy,
and that of the United States rigorously opposes the spread of
Mormonism. We must not therefore be surprised if the Chinese do not
behold with a friendly eye a religion which opposes their great doctrine
of the cultus of ancestors, and if they consider it nothing short of
sacrilege and well calculated to overthrow morality and law, and
infinitely worse from their point of view than polygamy is from ours.
The employment of female missionaries by certain Protestant sects is
another scandal, and the sight of young women living under the same roof
as men who are not their husbands gives rise in their minds to a train
of thought the reverse of edifying. It matters little that the worship
of ancestors is but mere outward form, and that the lives of the
missionaries are without any reproach: ancient traditions and customs
are violated, and to these the average Chinaman holds far more
tenaciously than he does to the truths they conceal.
The utter disregard paid by Europeans to even the most cherished customs
of the Chinese, and the vast difference which exists between the two
civilizations, together with the sense of superiority which both peoples
with perfect good faith entertain for themselves, is doubtless at the
bottom of that bitter feeling of contempt that causes every Chinaman to
despise as well as to hate the intruders. They look upon them as so many
barbarians, although Article 51 of the Treaty of Tien-tsin officially
ordained the proscription of the particular character describing
foreigners by this objectionable word. Our most complicated and
wonderful scientific instruments are not considered by the Chinese as
criterions of our superiority, and they recognise us to be skilful
workmen and clever jugglers, but otherwise only vulgar and ill-educated
fellows, and our lack of acquaintance with their ancient lore and
literature brings a smile of pity and contempt to their bland
countenances. They attach little or no importance to our inventions. ‘I
quite understand,’ said Prince Kong to a foreign Ambassador who had just
explained to him the theory and practice of railway travelling, ‘that in
Europe you should employ iron rails to transport you from one end of
your country to another. Here we obtain the same effect with our
waggons. We may not travel so expeditiously; but, then, we are never in
such a hurry.’ This quaint observation was spoken twenty-five years ago,
but it might easily be made to-day: the condition of mind which inspired
it is identical and unchanged.
The Chinese may bow to our power, but it does not inspire them with the
least awe. They entertain for us about the same agreeable sentiment that
the traveller does for the footpad who suddenly puts a pistol to his
head and demands his money or his life. And as this same ill-used
traveller, in order to avoid a repetition of the assault, if he has to
pass that way, procures the same arms as his aggressor, so the Chinese
now and again appropriate some of our weapons of defence without knowing
how to use them; but, nevertheless, they remain thoroughly convinced as
to the superiority of their civilization. There can be no doubt that if
they were left to themselves, and European influence and pressure
suddenly ceased, the Chinese would quickly pull up the telegraph-poles
and the few miles of rail which with infinite patience and trouble have
been laid, close their ports, and efface every trace of the detested
innovations of the ‘barbarians.’
This would naturally be the act of the Government. As to the people, it
will continue to use the facilities introduced by Western civilization.
The boats which ply along the coasts and up the Yang-tsze-Kiang are
crowded with native passengers, who apparently enjoy the trip, and who
pay the better share of the profits made by the various steam navigation
companies, and the trains between Tien-tsin and Peking are always
crowded. The Chinese also know perfectly well how to appreciate European
administration, and three hundred thousand Chinese live upon the French,
English, and American concessions at Shanghai, two hundred thousand at
Hong-Kong, which was only inhabited by a few fishermen before the
English occupation, and all the large towns belonging to the European
colonies in the vicinity of China—Vladivostok, Manila, Saigon,
Singapore, Batavia—are practically Chinese towns. They like to have
their property and their commercial interests protected, and strongly
object to being exploited and harassed as they are under their own
Government. At the time of the occupation of Manchuria by the Mikado’s
troops, an English missionary who had long resided in the country
assured me that the Chinese were very glad to escape from the ‘squeezee’
system, and from the many vexations to which they had been subjected by
the mandarins, and were amazed to see the Japanese pay for everything
they required.
The Chinese are not, therefore, unappreciative of our civilization, and
since we afflict them with our presence, they think it wise to profit by
the material advantages which we have introduced among them; but, with
few exceptions, doubtless they would prefer the loss of these advantages
to our company, and they never cease to despise us. From the moment that
they can read they go to their old books as to a fountain-head, whence
they drink intoxicating draughts of pride and vanity, and of profound
contempt for all that is not of the wisdom of Confucius.
After all, it is not by means of the ignorant classes, but through the
initiative of a few thinkers, that progressive ideas gradually filter
into a country and reform it. Unluckily, in the Chinese Empire, owing to
a defective system of education, the very class which ought to benefit
their fellows—the literati—is precisely that which is the most
obstinately retrogressive.
The gross superstitions, too, which are entertained by the people in the
interior of China against foreigners form another barrier to an advance
movement. That the lower classes should believe that the missionaries
pull out the eyes of little children and use their bowels as the
ingredients of infernal and magical concoctions, or that our doctors
spread the pest whenever we want a war, is not much to be wondered at,
for the same things have been repeated in Astrakhan and in some of the
Russian provinces whenever there has been a rumour of an epidemic. But
what is really very grave is that the literati, who are so all-powerful
in China, foster these superstitions, and even spread them broadcast
among the people in order the better to keep up the feeling of hatred
which they ought to attenuate. At the bottom of all the risings against
the missionaries are the mandarins and the literati. The great influence
which these men exercise over the people, and their abhorrence of
Western civilization, is the real cause why no progress has hitherto
been made in the Chinese Empire.