THE SZECHUEN REVOLT
It was long before the outbreak of the Revolution that Szechuen was
in the throes of a revolt that threatened early to spread to most
dangerous limits from every aspect. The cause of the trouble was the
building of railroads. Szechuen demanded exclusion from the scheme
for the nationalisation of the railways. The literati and the
students took the matter in hand, declared determinedly that the
province should build its own railways, and in a very short time the
province was in an uproar. We have but little space to deal with the
history of the disturbances, but seeing that when it was at its worst
there existed a serious anti-foreign spirit, it will be well to give
a brief review on the affair.
For several years one had become accustomed to the startling
pronouncements from Peking as to what the Government of China
intended to do with regard to the establishment of railroads
throughout the length and breadth of the land, and what the
consequent opening up of the country would be. During the past few
years of China's alleged awakening we had, however, waited in vain
for the much-debated new lines. In each Provincial Assembly one of
the foremost among the matters of agenda had always been the railway
which came no nearer, and the public had grown accustomed to the talk
and instinctively had arrived at the position {236} where they do not
expect any concrete result in the shape of railroad actualities.
The announcement made during the spring of 1911 would seem to have
indicated, however, that that time was past with the coming into
public office of his Excellency Tuan Fang as Director-General of
Railways. Whilst he held public office Tuan Fang was a man who,
next, perhaps, to Yuan Shih K'ai, was looked upon as the prince of
officials, was famous for the tact and ability with which he
approached all matters having anything to do with the foreigner, was
highly respected by the people, was astute, far-seeing, progressive
in the truest sense, and generally respected as a public pillar in
the coming of the New China. But one day, when the funeral of the
late Empress was taking place, he was unfortunate enough, as will be
seen in a footnote printed below, to commit one of the greatest
breaches against Imperial etiquette. The wrath of the Throne was
brought down upon him. Tuan Fang was dismissed peremptorily, put his
papers in his pocket, and cleared out of the service in apparent
disgrace. That, however, was in the old days. China, since then,
had been quickly undergoing a process of mighty change, and Tuan had
changed with the times. He was now taken into office by the
Government, and among other things that came directly under his
control was the management of the railways proposed to become and
those already under construction. So that it was now reasonably
expected that some progress would be made--not so speedy as the
programme would indicate, perhaps--but certain was it that no man at
the time in the whole of the Government arena was more capable of
handling that particularly needed adjunct of national progress as the
modern railroad admittedly is in China. In China the railway
question is one of the most vital importance. By virtue of size
alone China, it was seen, must seek the aid of every railway-building
nation in the world if she was to complete {237} her proposed
schemes. The problems of railways here in China only touch the
difficulties of construction and initial expense. The stage where
the relation of the railways to society and commerce becomes more and
more complicated has not yet arrived. China is innocently free for
the most part from such vexatious questions as the competition of
rates and fares, the combination of railway systems, the pooling of
traffic, and State or private ownership. The conditions prevailing
in China are rather the result of historical evolution, and cannot
possibly be regarded as the outcome of any policy. If a railway has
rails, then in China it can very well be called a railway--and China
has shown us that she has been satisfied, and the Chinese Government
has always been the victim of circumstances, guided wholly by the
golden age in the past rather than an intelligent outlook for the
golden age of the future. The railways that China possesses had
always been, and still are, the most flagrant examples of how
railways should not be run. They had been a disgrace to a nation
that has put forward a claim to be making endeavours to get out of
the grip of antediluvianism. They have lost money, have been allowed
to get into the sorriest state of disrepair that can be imagined, and
altogether have been white elephants. But the spirit of railway
construction during the last few years took hold of the Government.
In the enlightened provinces of north and east China the people
talked railways, they thought railways, they dreamed railways, and
with the advent of Tuan Fang as the Director-General of Railways they
seemed set upon building railways. The need of opening up this
wonderful Empire is an oft-repeated tale, not needing to be
reiterated. In every province in the west of the Empire there is
known to be a wealth in the earth that will in time allow China to
vie with the United States in natural resources. For her own
intercommunication and exchange of products China's first need is the
railway. If her exports are {238} to increase in a proportionate
measure with her opportunity of natural development, China must have
a network of railroads to enable her speedily to transport her
products to the coast. The need is there, and aided by the Great
Four Nation Loan, China (so it seemed at the commencement of 1911)
would be able to move with enormous strides. She now had the money,
and she had now chosen the man. It was only to be hoped that his
Excellency Tuan Fang, in entering upon his important mission to the
New China, would not find his hands tied by that unmoving element of
the Old China which still rigidly maintained an attitude of
short-sighted independence.
Early in the scheme which made for the nationalisation of the
railroads it was seen that Szechuen would not pull with the other
provinces--Hunan was another. It was one of the unaccountable
phenomena of the times in several of the central provinces of China
that the gentry and the _literati_ were impressed in a manner the
reverse of satisfactory over the loaning of money by the Powers to
China. Several places had been on the verge of a revolt as a result
of the Government's decision, and in some places there was a marked
dislike to the Imperial methods of opening up the country. The first
thing that impresses the observer of social conditions in China
to-day is the magnitude of the industrial forces that are everywhere
at work--the man who does not work finds little to eat. In
seven-eighths of this enormous Empire the bulk of the country's work
is performed by the energies of human beings and beasts of burden.
China--that is, the common people of the country--has not learned the
lesson of harnessing to the chariot of industrial progress one of the
great natural forces, and they are taught from the cradle to believe
that when once a labour-saving machine is introduced, that exact
number of people whose combined work is accomplished by the machine
will commence to starve. The ordinary Chinese looks out of {239} his
almond-shaped eyes, but does not see wherein lies the wealth of the
land. That the United States of America increased its mechanical
horse-power from two million in 1870 to roughly twelve million in
1900, and has enjoyed greater wealth with its increase--and that his
own country could do the same, mattered not to the ordinary Chinese.
He argues in a very elementary manner. He has so many mouths to
feed; there is so much work to be done; when all the work that there
is to be done is done by hand labour, even then there are thousands
of mouths that cannot be filled, and if labour-saving machinery is
introduced, what will become of the millions who will be thrown out
of employment? So argues the ordinary Chinese, and for fear of
making matters worse than they are, he votes plump against the
introduction of foreign machinery. This was the spirit of the
proletariat towards the opening of the country by railway lines. But
the change was bound to come, and although the people of Szechuen
showed plainly that they intended tooth and nail to fight against
this that they little understood, the Government seemed to show most
strongly that it intended to push the building of the lines. The
question was, of course, of thrilling interest to China as a nation,
and of vital importance to the whole of the East and the West. In
former times the people themselves had had the opportunity to build
their own railways, the same as private companies did in Europe and
America. They stolidly refused, they believed such an innovation of
the devil to be directly against the welfare of the country. For
ages the Chinese Government thought the same, but when the
partly-awakened China reached out to grasp its last chance of
swinging commercially into line with other great nations of the
world, there was to be no hesitancy. China must have railways. She
could not build them herself--she had no money. Europe and America
could build them; Europe and America had the money, and {240} were
doing what any other right-thinking nation would characterise as a
gracious act (although not quite free from the loaves and fishes
element), and it was the duty of the Chinese Government to rule with
an iron hand against any hysterical hooligans whose Imperial
short-sightedness rendered them a dangerous element in the country.
There was for several months during the initial trouble no
anti-foreign movement. A Society boasting the name of the One Aim
Society--the one aim being to get the railway loan rescinded--was
formed, many scholars of repute being the leaders, who prided
themselves upon conducting their campaign in quite a civilised
fashion, and not in the old way of destroying public buildings and so
forth. Where agitation existed against the missionaries and
foreigners the leaders stepped in, agitated for and subsequently
succeeded in getting many of the commoner ringleaders beheaded. For
many hundreds of square miles the countryside was pamphleted to the
effect that "not a blade of grass belonging to a foreigner must be
touched," the writer going on to declare that "if we do this, we
shall only injure our own cause and give the foreign nations a
pretext to step in and divide up our country.... This has nothing to
do with the missionaries of any nation. If foreign nations have
money to lend, and China wishes to borrow, they have a perfect right
to lend upon the very best terms that they can get. We, therefore,
cannot blame the foreigners, but only our own Government."
Whilst, however, this was the authoritative attitude of the promoters
of the agitation, there were many of the "roughs" of the
country--that party which has been eternally agitating against both
Government and foreigners--who hoped to take advantage of the trouble
to promote its own aims. Towards this end some curious proceedings
were reported to have transpired. The press became irrepressible,
the cartoons against {241} foreigners were vile--such things as
Chinese soldiers being tied to branches of trees and shot by foreign
soldiers, with letterpress telling the people that this was the
treatment meted out by the British to the Chinese soldiers at Pienma;
Russian soldiers driving Jews into the sea at the point of the
bayonet; the picture of an Englishman separating husband and wife
with a flaring explanation that this was how the British treated the
people of India, and so on _ad libitum_. This spirit came gradually.
At the start of the rebellion the people probably thought that to
shield the foreigner would save their reputation in their barbarous
conduct throughout the province, but when they came to see plainly
enough that the Imperial hand was stronger than they had deemed it to
be, they turned their attention to what might have proved a very
dangerous spirit of anti-foreignism--but the foreigners cleared out
of the province luckily before any massacring was generally spoken
of. At the time I am writing it is not known whether the property of
foreigners was allowed to remain untouched or not.
After the outbreak at Wuchang things in Szechuen took a decided turn
for the worst. Outlawry became rife everywhere. Slaughter on a
gigantic scale was carried on; Chengtu, the capital, was besieged for
several weeks; foreigners were ordered out of the province and only
with great difficulty in many cases were able to get away; Chao Erh
Fang (the Viceroy) was killed; from end to end of the province
nothing but anarchy and lawlessness prevailed. When the trouble was
at its height Tuan Fang was ordered to Szechuen to quell the
rebellion. He went, but, good man that he was, never came back.
When the killing of the Manchus was in progress, he was killed by his
own men, and his head brought down to Wuchang.
At the time of writing the province of Szechuen is in such a
condition of unrest and complete disorganisation that it is quite
impossible to tell what will occur within {242} a year--that is,
whether there is likely then to be any prospect of real peace. It is
certain that for many months yet the missionaries will not be able to
return to their stations, and it will probably take many years, even
with the marvellous recuperative powers the Chinese possess, before
the province regains its normal conditions. For Szechuen is
different from many provinces in China. The difficulties are
different. The people--the tribal element, particularly--is a thorn
in the flesh of Chinese officialdom, and at the present juncture in
this volume to ponder upon this element in the national life will be
probably of interest. Indeed, to read aright the signs of the times
in China were never harder than to-day.
The Revolution, with the hope of a Republic, or some wonderfully
altered system of government, has changed the whole front that China
has been making to the world, and no matter how one may view the turn
of current events and the probable effect of all this change upon the
national life and character of the Chinese, he is wise who tempers
his enthusiastic study of the Revolution and the Reform movement with
a just estimate of the possibilities of the menaces that face Dr. Sun
Yat Sen and his Republican party or Yuan Shin K'ai and his
Monarchical party, in pursuing their respective policies. Some of
the menaces come from without. Most, however, come from within, and
at the present time, to those who know their China best, it is
abundantly clear that the New China's greatest hope is in fleeing
from herself.
This Revolution has seemed to bring into being a China that shall be
utterly different from any other China that has gone before. It is
in very truth a New China, and no one who, with a mildly
understanding heart, watches China to-day can fail to see in all
parts of the Empire that are known to civilisation much which forms a
good augury in the Revolution, the genuineness of a common impulse,
an impulse linked {243} with a dogged persistence of effort to get
out of the shallows of the past into the depths of the future--a
glimpse beyond the garden and cloister of Chinese antiquity into the
wonderful golden age, if the Revolutionary party is blessed.
But this Young China party will be bound to pass through a great home
and foreign political crisis, the eccentricities of whose national
programme may, if the Republican party be guided skilfully, change
the Old China into a powerful participator in the affairs of the
world. It must now be granted by all the world that the Reform
spirit in China is peculiarly the most real thing in China, and China
herself--by virtue of the Revolution--the most striking feature of
the world's politics to-day. But what is the sum of it all? There
are many aspects. Enjoying all the advantages which have come
naturally to her, China, we must remember, is as old as all history.
One sees the legend of age repeated again and again in the hard
enduring things of time, and equally as much in the great conflict
that had China in its grip for many months. Every symbol of the
common life, every action of the common people, everything in the
land points with powerful significance to fundamental enduring
things. China, during the past few years, has been furnishing us
with most things that she has dabbled in--the Revolution itself is
one of the most striking products, with evidence that she will rise
to the position that such a race should. We are able vividly to
trace, amid the seeming unalterable commonalities of life, the story
of a great overpowering reform. In many areas this reform reaches
from the minutest details of the ordinary life to the topmost rung of
the political and social ladder; in other parts, through which I have
travelled during the last two years, the general trend of the
people's lives will not allow one to believe for a single moment that
China's chance, even through revolution, will ever come.
But, generally speaking, one has to admit that at {244} one appalling
stroke this mediæval people have come to mingle in the stream of
world politics, behind which they have been lagging for centuries.
In the whirl of her present revolutionary excitement, in the rush of
the commercial torrent which will sweep through the land, the force
of which probably will eclipse even Japan's early activities in the
world's trade, we see a light on the surface of the national life of
this strange people heralding the dawn of a greater day. Even we who
live in China are lost in wonderment; those at a distance find it
impossible to form a just estimate of its value. And so vast is the
Empire, and so numerous the people, so great still the incongruities
and absurdities in everyday life in most parts, that we who spend our
lives side by side with the Chinese find difficulty in condensing
concrete opinion on any given subject. The one thing that is keeping
China back is the Dragon. We foreigners fail efficiently to
understand China because we do not understand the Dragon. In China
the Dragon has presided for centuries. Wrapped intertwiningly into
the private and the national life of the Chinese, this Dragon has
reigned supreme over a make-believe, a show of things, and innate
insincerity and hollowness unparalleled anywhere among civilised
peoples. The Chinese has, because of the Dragon, cramped himself
into strange shapes all down through history, and the world has not
known what to do with him, so foreign has been his aspect. But now
the Revolution tells us that China and hundreds of millions of her
people have changed irretrievably--so much must be taken for granted.
The change would probably be quicker and better were it not for the
Dragon, whose fangs, deeply indented into the national life, render
it one great counterpoise to the young Revolutionary party. Another
counterpoise to that reform which the New China party would institute
at once is the lamentable fact that in a very large proportion of the
Empire's area, in isolated parts far removed from {245} spheres more
easily affected by the Reform movement, there exists not a single
evidence that China is not still in the torpor of the ages. Here we
find a disorganised condition of society, and see how many forces
work blindly in a wasteful and degenerate manner. I do not say that
nothing had changed before the Revolution, for certain phases of
reform one could not get away from in even the remotest corners of
China. But if we discount the military and opium and a certain kind
of popular education, we found little indeed commensurate with the
hue and cry of the reform supposed to have been taking place to
induce those who do not know that the whole Empire was in a desperate
state of eagerness to forge ahead to believe that the Young China had
annihilated the Old China.
And in the times through which we have just passed, it is pardonable
for foreigners, except those who have made the real study of China a
serious matter, to believe that China is getting more and more to
love the foreigner. I believe that she is--but the love comes
slowly, slowly indeed.
My personal opinion is that to-day, not perhaps less than in 1900,
there are many places in China where the unveneered feeling of the
Chinese towards the foreigner has not changed. But with that, at
present, I can have nothing to do, and I trust that this Revolution
will not unfold to us further stories--such as had to be told in
Sianfu in Shensi last winter--that will make sad reading. China has
gained, and is still fast gaining, strength in naval and military
strategy, knowledge in education, in art, in science, in commerce, in
all that she has set her heart upon from outside. But by the policy
of conservatism, that "China for the Chinese" policy, a great
majority of her _literati_ are weakening her from the inside--and to
such an extent that she may yet have to eat humble bread. For as the
disturbances in Szechuen have so forcefully proved to the world,
China has not by any means succeeded in {246} putting her own house
in order, and the Revolution has given us another overwhelming truth.
If the reader will turn to a map of China, he will find that perhaps
one-third, certainly one-fourth, of the areas of the provinces of
Western China, and much territory farther north, are marked
"unsurveyed," occupied for the most part by unconquered and
independent and semi-independent tribes of people. And herein lies
the danger zone of what I would characterise as the greatest of
China's hidden menaces. Sun Yat Sen's greatest enemy, Yuan Shih
K'ai's greatest enemy--or "the greatest enemies" of any particular
faction of the Government which will become paramount--the
peculiarities of which are not known to a dozen men, it is a menace
which China herself knows little of. I am fully aware that my
contention will open up entirely new ground. The question of the
possibility of the Chinese Government having been given such trouble
as she underwent in Szechuen by the aboriginals of interior provinces
has never been broached, so far as my memory serves me, in any of the
literature dealing with China's reform during the last decade. I am
aware that I shall spring upon the ordinary student of China's
affairs a problem he may wriggle out of by stigmatising as
unimportant, for the world's manner of dealing with China is with
those things seen on the political surface only. Indeed, this is the
greatest error in literature upon China. But I am not speaking
without first-hand knowledge. After having travelled some seven
thousand miles in China, in parts often where no other foreigner has
ever entered, and having lived for several months out in the wilds
where none other than the missionary could have contact--so that none
but the missionary would be able to write about it, which is very
rarely done--it may be granted that an opinion in some definite form
is at least justifiable. My purpose was to make the subject a
special study. In most of the country where these {247} tribes
people, ordinary foreign travellers are not allowed to enter.
Officials at the _fus_ or the _hsiens_ where escorts are supplied,
refuse to allow you to start if you are foolish enough to let them
know that you intend starting. But it is only by actually travelling
in these areas that an accurate impression of existing conditions can
be gathered. Because a man has travelled from end to end of China by
the main road does not justify him in giving an opinion on the
subject; quite easy it is to travel along the main roads anywhere,
but here one sees comparatively little of the tribal element. Some
may speak of the patriotism which has grown in China of late years,
and ask if it is possible for any such menace to continue while this
spirit of patriotism thrives. I admit that a peculiar patriotism has
certainly sprung up among the people of China, but in the places I
have in mind, in the wind-swept savage country of China Far West,
patriotism is not known. Those who have been watching the trouble in
Szechuen, started long before the Revolution broke out, have been
able to see what sort of patriotism has existed. It is merely a
common spirit of hooliganism among the common multitudes, and a
spirit of alarming omnipotence among the scholars--little less,
little more. This exists among the Chinese in these regions, but I
speak here more particularly of the tribal races, among whom this
hatred towards the Government is infinitely more bitter. These
aboriginal races, or most of them, were, almost without exception, at
one time in the occupation of vast kingdoms, and their first idea is
that the Chinese Government has been built up by a succession of
excessively wicked and unscrupulous men, great commandment breakers,
a peculiarly dangerous type of mankind to which it is unfortunate to
belong. They know nothing about revolutions or reforms. They have
it in strong for the Chinese, and are boiling over with a spirit of
revenge. It is with these people that China will have to deal during
the {248} next decade. If China were to be engaged in an altercation
with any other Power, this tribal danger would be formidable; if all
becomes peaceful, when the Revolution shall have passed onward, the
task of putting all men and things in China underfoot of the
Government will not be accomplished without effort.
As things stand at present, there looms before China a problem that
will not find solution in being continually shelved. In conquering
the tribes in her own country, China faces a danger more momentous
than she knows of and greater than the Western world ever dreamed of.
It would be too long a story here to detail the tribes and the
peculiarities of each family--suffice it to say that every tribe in
western China (and their number may be judged from the fact that no
less than twenty are found in Yunnan alone), hate the Chinese and the
Manchus. In the event of any disturbances arising from the Tibetan
border, the Burma border, the Tonking border, the Mongolian border,
this involved problem of her tribespeople and how to deal with them
would so upset China's calculations that she might lose territory in
China Far West, and history might have to record another rebellion as
terrible, perhaps, as the Mohammedan rebellion in Yunnan of 1855 and
onwards. Yunnan might then go to France, Tibet to Britain, Mongolia
to Russia. This would be the zenith of complications, but it is of
this that China has always been afraid, and she will always have
cause for fear so long as this question is ignored. At the present
moment, when most of the outlying dependencies are declaring their
independence, these fears have a greater significance. The
non-ability of the officials to grip the situation in these outlying
corners of the Chinese Empire, and to have that local knowledge of
affairs which will come only with local experience, is where China
would feel the pinch in a stand-up combat with unconquered races
within her own dominions. This feeling of strife has been growing
for years, long before {249} China had an adventurous policy in
Tibet, but however expert China may have been in duping Europe as to
her intentions in Tibet, and maintaining tranquillity in that
country, it is certain that Peking did not, or would not, recognise
the presence of the evil in China Far West, to say nothing of Tibet
for the moment, of many thousands of her nominally governed races
being in a state of lawlessness and social savagery. Complications
in Tibet are liable, as they have been for many years, to arise at
any time, equally as they are in Kansu, Sinking, Szechuen, or
Yunnan--we have seen them, of course, in Szechuen. For serious
complications in any of these provinces China has always been
ill-prepared. It has been extremely doubtful whether her troops
would remain loyal, even after she had got them at the seat of action
after a tortuous march over incomprehensibly difficult country.
There are no railways in Western China to speak of--there are
absolutely none in the areas we have under survey in this
article--and the only West China railway from Tonking into the heart
of the Yunnan province would offer no advantages.
The main trunk lines of China, such as they are, run through country
removed by many days of arduous walking over land from the districts
likely to be first affected. Suppose, for a moment, that China had
decided to repel the British at Pienma, or that a civil war were to
break out in Yunnan (and neither of these is so unlikely when one
knows the aggressive Yunnanese spirit), the probability is that, were
military assistance necessary, the armies of Szechuen or Hunan would
be mobilised. But to the provincial capital of Yunnan no less then
thirty-three days would be required from Chengtu (Szechuen's
capital), and to reach Yunnan-fu from Changshu (Hunan's capital) at
least fifty days. The entire distance in either case would have to
be negotiated on foot and by native boat, and over country ranging
from sea level to say 12,000 feet above, and if complications with
any other Power had arisen in {250} China Far West, with Szechuen in
her fearful ferment one may guess at the sequel.
Generally speaking, the problem of China Far West with the tribes is
akin to that now holding the attention of the world between China and
Tibet. We all know how, if the Nepaulese had thrown in their lot
with the Dalai Lama there would have been an abrupt interruption to
China's Imperialistic policy there. With China's awakening in Tibet
and the dispatch of troops to reside there to maintain Chinese
supremacy, we have seen how Great Britain rightly sends her troops a
little farther on the Indian frontier, showing that she intends to
maintain her own _status quo_. China has Britain to watch there.
And we seem to see in China's activity in Tibet a menace to the peace
of the neighbouring States between Tibet and India. As Britain
watches China from the Indian side, France, as we have said, watches
China on the Yunnan southern border. It should be remembered that
the dream of the French in the days of their irresistible impulse for
colonial expansion in the Far West was to annex Yunnan to Indo-China,
and, however many her mistakes, her faith has survived her
disappointment. Abandoning her dream of territory, she is now going
hard and fast for the trade, and has many thousands of troops to
guard her interests on the Tonking border now that she has her own
railway. All through Yunnan a strong feeling exists among the
Chinese against the French--the French are not liked, and have been
the bone of contention for many years. Taking these facts into
consideration, one is inclined to doubt whether China is really the
Power to introduce that government into Tibet which will keep the
country free from internal strife. So far, it must be admitted, she
has done well, but so many dangers will face her after the Revolution
that it seems a most difficult political task. Trouble seems
inevitable if the reforming hand is laid too heavily upon the
Tibetans.
{251}
Added to this is the tribal danger. It may not be generally known
that many of the tribes of this great ethnological garden, stretching
from Burma right away to the north of the Chinese Empire and south as
far as Tonking and Kwangtung, are of Tibeto-Burman origin. The
Hsi-fan group, the Nou-su group (this is my own theory, for several
other theories are known, and the Nou-su group is placed broadly
under the Lolo, itself a term of opprobrium), and many other tribes
of these great families. It is safe to say, broadly, that all these
tribes are allied racially or religiously. It is well known that in
all stages of their civilisation not one tribe has a good word to say
for the Chinese, and in the western provinces these tribes peoples
predominate probably seven in ten. One cannot pose as a political
prophet. China's Revolution has shown the world that prophecy in
political possibilities in China is charged with an extraordinary
element of chance, and one may certainly declare that it is not in
the power of any one to say that these non-Chinese peoples could not
be won over to the British. My personal opinion is that it could be
easily done.
And one is able to imagine that in the revolution of politics in
Eastern Asia which this great Revolution will inevitably bring about,
and it were found necessary for China's regular army to proceed _en
bloc_ to the east of the Empire, the tribes of the west would be able
to create a situation, by civil war and open rebellion against the
Government, of so serious a nature that years would intervene before
China could completely conquer the people and gain their moral
support.
This New China Government--Republican or Monarchical, or both, as may
be--has to find out for herself her own weak points. No thoughtful
man who has been through these wild regions can doubt that the tribal
danger is one of China's greatest weaknesses, greater as one
understands it more, confronting the new {252} Government with a
problem greater than the Manchu Government was prepared to recognise.
[Illustration: A PRE-REVOLUTION GROUP. Tuan Fang, the "friend of the
foreigner," is seated. He was decapitated by his own men in
Szechuen. General Chang Piao, Commander in Chief of the Hupeh Army,
is standing on his right, in military uniform. After being routed by
the Revolutionaries, he fled the country.]
In a review of the Szechuen Revolt, the author feels that he has
wandered considerably in his chronicle. But the information
contained in what has just been written has a most vital bearing upon
the maintenance of peace in Western China.[1]
[1] In 1898 Tuan Fang was a Secretary of the Board of Works; his
rapid promotion after that date was chiefly due to the patronage of
his friend Jung Lu. For a Manchu, he is remarkably progressive and
liberal in his views.
In 1900 he was Acting-Governor of Shensi. As the Boxer movement
spread and increased in violence, and as the fears of Jung Lu led him
to take an increasingly decided line of action against them, Tuan
Fang, acting upon his advice, followed suit. In spite of the fact
that at the time of the _coup d'état_ he had adroitly saved himself
from clear identification with the Reformers and had penned a
classical composition in praise of filial piety, which was commonly
regarded as a veiled reproof to the Emperor for not yielding implicit
obedience to the Old Buddha, he had never enjoyed any special marks
of favour at the latter's hands, nor been received into that
confidential friendliness with which she frequently honoured her
favourites.
In his private life, as in his administration, Tuan Fang has always
recognised the changing conditions of his country and endeavoured to
adapt himself to the needs of the time; he was one of the first among
the Manchus to send his sons abroad for their education. His
sympathies were at first unmistakably with K'ang Yu-wei and his
fellow-Reformers, but he withdrew from them because of the
anti-dynastic nature of their movement, of which he naturally
disapproved.
As Acting-Governor of Shensi, in July, 1900, he clearly realised the
serious nature of the situation and the dangers that must arise from
the success of the Boxer movement, and he therefore issued two
proclamations to the province, in which he earnestly warned the
people to abstain from acts of violence. These documents were
undoubtedly the means of saving the lives of many missionaries and
other foreigners isolated in the interior. In the first a curious
passage occurs, wherein after denouncing the Boxers, he said:--
"The creed of the Boxers is no new thing: in the reign of Chia-Ch'ing
followers of the same cult were beheaded in droves. But the
present-day Boxer has taken the field ostensibly for the defence of
his country against the foreigner, so that we need not refer to the
past. While accepting their good intentions, I would merely ask, Is
it reasonable for us to credit these men with supernatural powers of
{253} invulnerability? Are we to believe that all the corpses which
now strew the country between Peking and the sea are those of
spurious Boxers and that the survivors alone represent the true
faith?"
After prophesying for them the same fate which overtook the
Mohammedan rebels and those of the Taiping insurrection, he delivered
himself of advice to the people which, while calculated to prevent
the slaughter of foreigners, would preserve his reputation for
patriotism. It is well, now that Tuan Fang has fallen upon evil
days, to remember the good work he did in a very difficult position.
His proclamation ran as follows:--
"I have never for a moment doubted that you men of Shensi are brave
and patriotic and that, should occasion offer, you would fight nobly
for your country. I know that if you join these Boxers it would be
from patriotic motives. I would have you observe, however, that our
enemies are the foreign troops who have invaded the metropolitan
province, and not the foreign missionaries who reside in the
interior. If the Throne orders you to take up arms in the defence of
your country, then I, as Governor of this province, will surely share
in that glory. But if, on your own account you set forth to slay a
handful of harmless and defenceless missionaries, you will
undoubtedly be actuated by the desire for plunder, there will be
nothing noble in your deed and your neighbours will despise you as
surely as the law will punish you.
"At this very moment our troops are pouring in upon the capital from
every province in the Empire. Heaven's avenging sword is pointed
against the invader. This being so, it is absurd to suppose that
there can be any need for such services as you people could render at
such a time. Your obvious and simple duty is to remain quietly in
your homes pursuing your usual avocations. It is the business of the
official to protect the people, and you may rely upon me to do so.
As to that Edict of Their Majesties, which last year ordered the
organisation of trained bands, the idea was merely to encourage
self-defence for local purposes, on the principle laid down by
Mencius, watch and ward being kept by each district."
A little later the Governor referred to that decree of the
Empress-Dowager (her first attempt at hedging), which began by
quoting the "Spring and Autumn Classic," in reference to the sacred
nature of foreign envoys, and used it as a text for emphasising the
fact that the members of the several missionary societies in Shensi
had always been on the best of terms with the people. He referred to
the further fact that many refugees from the famine-stricken
districts of Shansi and numbers of disbanded soldiers had crossed the
borders of the province, and fearing lest these lawless folk should
organise an attack upon the foreigners, he once more urged his people
to permit no violation of the sacred laws of hospitality. The
province had already commenced to {254} feel the effects of the long
drought which had caused such suffering in Shansi, and the
superstitious lower classes were disposed to attribute this calamity
to the wrath of Heaven, brought upon them by reason of their failure
to join the Boxers. Tuan Fang proceeded to disabuse their minds of
this idea.
"If the rain has not fallen upon your barren fields," he said, "if
the demon of drought threatens to harass you, be sure that it is
because you have gone astray, led by false rumours and have committed
deeds of violence. Repent now and return to your peaceful ways, and
the rains will assuredly fall. Behold the ruin which has come upon
the provinces of Chihli and Shantung; it is to save you from their
fate that I now warn you. Are we not all alike, subjects of the
great Manchu Dynasty, and shall we not acquit ourselves like men in
the service of the State? If there were any chance of this province
being invaded by the enemy, you would naturally sacrifice your lives
and property to repel them as a matter of simple patriotism. But if
in a sudden excess of madness, you set forth to butcher a few
helpless foreigners you will in no wise benefit the Empire, but will
be merely raising fresh difficulties for the Throne. For the time
being, your own conscience will accuse you of ignoble deeds, and
later you will surely pay the penalty with your lives and the ruin of
your families. Surely, you men of Shensi, enlightened and
high-principled, will not fall so low as this. There are, I know,
among you some evil men who, professing patriotic enmity to
foreigners and Christians wax fat on foreign plunder. But the few
missionary chapels in this province offer but meagre booty and it is
safe to predict that those who begin by sacking them will certainly
proceed next to loot the houses of your wealthier citizens, from the
burning of foreigners' homes the conflagration will spread to your
own, and many innocent persons will share the fate of the slaughtered
Christians. The plunderers will escape with their booty, and the
foolish onlookers will pay the penalty of these crimes. Is it not a
well-known fact that every anti-Christian outbreak invariably brings
misery to the stupid innocent people of the district concerned? Is
not this a lamentable thing? As for me, I care neither for praise
nor blame; my only object for preaching peace in Shensi is to save
you, my people, from dire ruin and destruction."
Tuan fang was a member of the Mission to Foreign Countries in 1905,
and has received decorations and honours at the hands of several
European sovereigns. In private life he is distinguished by his
complete absence of formality, a genial, hospitable man, given to
good living, delighting in new mechanical inventions, and fond of his
joke. It was he who, as Viceroy of Nanking, organised the
International Exhibition. As Viceroy of Chihli, he was in charge of
the arrangements for the funeral of the Empress-Dowager, and a week
after that impressive ceremony, for alleged want of respect and
decorum, it {255} was charged against him that he had permitted
subordinate officials to take photographs of the cortège, and that he
had even dared to use certain trees in the Sacred Enclosure of the
Mausolea as telegraph poles, for which offences he was summarily
cashiered; since then he has lived in retirement. The charges were
possibly true, but it is matter of common knowledge that the real
reason of his disgrace was a matter of palace politics rather than
funeral etiquette, for he was a protégé of the Regent, and his
removal was a triumph for the Yehonala clan at a time when its
prestige called for a demonstration of some sort against the growing
power and influence of the Emperor Kwang-Hsu's brothers.
{256}