The
International Legations
"The British residents
in Shanghai are the spoilt children of the Empire. They pay no taxes to China,
except that landowners pay a very small land tax and no taxes to England. Judges
and consuls are provided for them; they are protected by the British fleet, and
for several years they have had, in addition, a British army to defend them;
and for all this expenditure the British taxpayer pays."
-L. A. Lyall
It hardly needs to be
pointed out but the foreigners in China at this time felt themselves to be
vastly superior to the Chinese. While it would be simple to assume that this
attitude came from the relative positions that the various parties adopt where
one is the victor and the other the loser, there were finer distinctions within
this arrangement which informed matters. Firstly, the foreigners’ religious
representatives deemed the Chinese way of life as ‘heathen’ and ‘uncivilised’;
as the victors, the foreign occupants were happy to accept this as a given,
despite the fact that many of them chose to freely sample the Chinese way of
life and – privately – adopt many of their practises. Secondly, the technology
available to the Chinese, while notable, had not been used in defense of the
country and many foreigners chose to interpret this as a mark of technological
inferiority.
The Chinese were indeed
too slow to make retaliatory moves (although one could argue that the Taiping Rebellion was one of the first
attempts by the Celestials to make a stand for their own nationhood). The
Ch’ing Dynasty had deliberately kept the populace blinkered and
under-technologised, fearing just the kind of trouble that the Taipings
represented. Many Chinese thought that China was the entire world and had never
heard of ‘other countries’ or ‘other peoples’: there were only themselves and
some outer darkness, populated by ‘barbarians’. Indeed all government
correpondence naively referred to British and other foreign delegates as
‘barbarians’, a habit that took an act of government to eradicate.
Consequently, when the victors of the First
Opium War swaggered into the country, the Chinese were at a loss as to what
to do.
For the British and
French especially, the foreigners were strolling along well-trod paths: they
were the conquerors and the Chinese, the conquered. As had happened in Africa,
America, Australia and India, the indigenous peoples were relegated immediately
to a subordinate position. 1842 was hailed as the year a new addition was made
to the jewels in the crown of the British Empire and the British were quick to
mint medals celebrating the event. China was a great big pie ready for carving
and the rest of the West was eager to follow in British footsteps. However, all
of this flag waving was a lie designed to veil the truth.
Britain had discovered a
taste for tea and for drinking it out of fine Chinese porcelain. The only place
they could get these commodities from was China and China wanted nothing that
the British had to offer. As a result, British wealth flowed into China and an
economic crisis followed after it. William Jardine and James Matheson decided
that the Chinese would take the opium that they were growing in fields in India
and that they would like it: in defiance of strict Imperial bans, they ran the
drug into the country and forced the populace to buy it. Soon, 1 in 10 Chinese
was ready to defy Imperial edicts to get another fix and the rest is history. A
side-effect of all this was that the West received an indelible image of the
Chinese as drug fiends.
But there were arguments
against this. Marco Polo and his father travelled to China in the 11th
Century and spent many years there under the aegis of Kublai Khan. Marco wrote a book extolling the wonders of
China, the palaces, the luxury, the technological advances: the picture he
painted was of a civilisation far in advance of Europe at the time. Samuel
Johnson, the great lexicographer, extolled his friends to visit China and to
see the Great Wall as a mark of accomplishment in their lives. These
contrasting images caused an interest in Europe and was the impetus to energise
the field of Sinology; most Europeans however, had no knowledge of Marco Polo
(other than that he introduced pasta to Italy, a ‘fact’ which may well be
erroneous) and chose to view China as a nation of uncivilised reprobates.
The Unequal Treaties gave the Westerners a wide range of freedoms in the wake of
their victory: they were free from local laws and allowed to live as they liked
with no repercussions to their reputations or dignity back in their home
countries. In fact they were enjoying the hermetically-sealed life of diplomats
all over the world – diplomatic immunity and a detachment from local issues. As
the above quote reveals, they were largely not even answerable to their own
countries.
All of this led
foreigners in Shanghai (and the other treaty ports) to firmly believe that they
were superior beings whose one purpose was to treat China as a cash cow that
they could milk without hindrance or let. It’s hardly surprising to learn that
the Chinese privately referred to the invaders as ‘barbarians’ regardless of
government policy.
The Celestials
Image
depicting the Chinese notion of the Fan Kuei
(“Foreign Devils”)
The bottom line is: the Chinese did not
know how to respond to the West.
For most Chinese, the abiding nemesis was
the Manchu Dynasty that had taken hold of the Dragon Throne. These ‘foreigners’ from the north had slipped in at
the opportune time and had laid their yoke across the world: families who had
previously enjoyed high rank and wide esteem were outcast and sent to the far
southern provinces (the lucky ones, that is) and were now struggling to make
ends meet; every man in the world had been forced to shave his head and wear
the queue; marriage was forbidden between those of Manchu descent and everyone
else. There had even been questions in high places about the validity of
foot-binding.
Suddenly, in the mix, there were these
‘barbarians’ whom many Chinese sincerely regarded as animals taught to walk on
their hind legs: the English, with their extravagant whiskers and their
irritating voices were thought of as goats, walking on their hind feet and
burdened with a lack of tact, manners and political fine feeling. For the
majority of Chinese, while their enmity was focussed on the occupants of the Dragon Throne, the foreigners caught
them broadside and they never saw it coming.
One thing that the Chinese
found very peculiar about the foreigners was their veneration of pigs (this did
nothing to reduce their feeling that the fan
kuei were actually animals). The
first missionaries, with very little sense of the Chinese dialects, attempted
to translate the words ‘Jesus Christ’ into Chinese; the result was a phrase
which was understood to mean ‘the Squeal of the Pig’ to the ears of many
potential converts. The staunch resistance that many missionaries encountered
in their dealings with the Chinese had less to do with refusing to accept the
Word of God and more to do with an unwillingness to kow-tow to a screaming pig, nailed to a piece of wood.
ANTI-CHRISTIAN PROPAGANDA:
A mandarin presides
over the execution of a crucified pig (identified in the marginal text as
Christ) while goat-headed foreigners are decapitated.
Linguistic
misunderstandings aside, the very notion of Christianity and its notion of an
afterlife flew in the face of thousands of years of ancestor-veneration and
Confucian ideals. Most Chinese accepted the fact that, upon death, they would
be re-united with their forebears and then would be able to monitor the actions
of the succeeding generations. Christian thought taught that all of a Chinese
person’s ancestors were heathens and therefore in Hell; further, any action on
the part of the convert to aspire to the Christian Heaven, meant that they
would be forever cut off from their families in the next life, something that
did not appeal to most Celestials.
The country quickly divided
along curious lines. First, there were those who despised the Ch’ing Dynasty, the original foreigners
from Manchuria who had taken control of the Dragon
Throne: most of these people rallied to the catch-cry, “Defeat the Ch’ing, restore the Ming” (despite the fact that the
cruelties and excesses of the Ming
Dynasty made the worst efforts of the Ch’ing look sophomoric). Ranged
against these extremists were those who, whilst acknowledging the ‘foreign-ness’
of the Manchus, felt that much had been gained by their governance that had
brought benefits to the country. The
Queue Law for example had imposed uniformity across the country and had
exposed troublesome elements which had been swiftly dealt with; the Manchus had
revived and codified the bureaucratic examination system and had restored the Hanlin Library; many had benefited from
the steady rule of the Manchu Emperors. This is the pragmatic Chinese worldview
at its finest: the ability to take a bucketful of lemons and make lemonade.
With the arrival of the
Westerners this division split into even more interesting patterns – the
anti-foreign elements lumped the ‘gweilos’
in with the Manchus as just another group of barbarians to be fought off; the
moderates (if we can coin such a term for them) chose to sit back and see what
the newcomers had to offer.
What they had to offer was
technology. The Manchus had deliberately avoided investing in new technologies
in order to keep the populace subordinated; with the coming of the West, the
technology was in open view and it made many people think of its possibilities.
The reactionaries, groups like the Boxers,
rejected the use of any foreign weaponry, with the obvious results; more
farsighted individuals – such as Li Hung-chang and Yuan Shi-kai – saw this
technology as a means of garnering China a place on the world stage of
international politics.
The big problem was ‘face’.
The lack of technological nous was a hindrance for the Chinese: they wanted to
know about new technologies but they couldn’t go begging, cap in hand, to ask
to be shown, otherwise they would look small in the eyes of their opponents.
They had to let the information filter through, by allowing contact without
control. This is a passive-aggressive pattern that informed China’s dealings
with the West all though the Victorian era and right up to the present day. The
Chinese people were poised to become the most frustrating people the West ever
had to deal with...
The Missionaries
Most travellers to China
had very little good to say about the missionaries. George Morrison, Alicia
Little and Peter Fleming all acknowledged their assistance during their own respective
journeys but had little to say about the work that they were doing, or the
lasting effects that it would have upon China. All of them recognised differing
factions within the Christian missionary crowd and a general consensus of
opinion can be outlined.
Firstly, there were a huge
number of missionary societies. The largest was arguably the Inland Mission Society but other
organisations were present from England, Scandinavia, southern Europe, Russia
and the US. It looked as though any Christian community with the cash and the
wherewithal to spread the Good Word sent people to China in droves.
Unfortunately, these societies were often run by old men and women with little
or no idea how the world worked or how to outfit their representatives to live
and work in a foreign – and inhospitable – country. Funds and incomes were
withheld or miscalculated, often with a view to ‘curbing temptation’ in young
missionaries, and church elders wilfully assumed that the ways of doing
business in Shanghai were the same as everywhere else. The Shanghai missionary
– sometimes the only representative of their organisation in the area – became
an ill-fed, anxious and poorly-dressed haunt of banks, insurance companies, and
custom houses, awaiting Letters of Credit or financial handouts that rarely,
and only grudgingly, appeared.
The Chinese were largely touted
by the missionaries as ‘God’s lost children’; they were difficult to convert,
recidivism was high and the business of explaining the business of Christianity
to them was fraught with linguistic, cultural and contextual potholes.
Explaining to a potential Chinese convert, that their ancestors were in Hell
and that, in Heaven, the convert would be forever separated from them, was
flying in the face of thousands of years of Confucian thinking. Nevertheless,
many missionaries set their shoulders to this most onerous of wheels with a
will.
Although not the first
Christians to make it into China (the Nestorians were invited in temporarily by
Kublai Khan) the Jesuits were the first Christians to gain a toehold and
consolidate their presence. As early as the 16th Century, they
entered China by way of Canton and began to study the Celestials with a view to
bringing them over to Christ. Of all the Christian sects and organisations
which followed, the Jesuits were the most concerned about keeping a low profile
and not making waves.
The Jesuits dedicated
themselves to study and wrote copious volumes of their observations. They also
dedicated themselves to tending for the health of their congregations, the
bettering of crop yields and the creation of urban infrastructure. More than
any other Christian faction they took a ‘hands on’ approach to spreading the
Word and were well received by the peasants. Unfortunately, they also became
heavily involved in the politics of the country and occasionally faced purges
by various Emperors when they thought that the Jesuits had nurtured vested
interests.
On balance, the Catholics
were relatively inoffensive; it was the Protestant faiths, especially the
Baptists, that really caused a problem. Undeniably, Westerners were prey to a
sense of superiority whenever they dealt with China; the Protestant Christians
had this trait also, along with a Bible to back them up in their belief. Many
Baptist societies in America sent missionaries who felt that it was ‘beneath
them’ to leave the cities to preach in the country – they trained Chinese
converts to do this ‘dirty work’ for them. In the next century with Charles
Soong, this attitude would prove to be a very bad move indeed.
The missionaries vented a
huge amount of vitriol declaiming that the Chinese were morally bankrupt; they
were suspicious of all Westerners who professed to enjoy the Chinese way of
life and energetically turned over stones in the foreign enclaves trying to
weed out those who had ‘gone native’. In this way they made themselves as
annoying to the foreign representatives as they did to the Chinese. Worse
still, missionaries from one organisation were suspicious of the methods and
outcomes of other groups: their
converts were ‘simply recidivists, rice Christians who were seeking handouts’
and their Christian motives were
‘corrupted by worldly, ulterior aims’. They took relish in undermining other
groups’ efforts and, in this way, shot themselves in the foot.
The Yellow
Peril (1895) by Knackfuss,
presented to the Tsar
Most commentators talk
fondly about missionaries encountered far away from the cities and lost in
remote wilderness areas. These missionaries tried to work closely with their
potential converts, tending the sick and working the land with them. These
worthies were ready to provide a hot meal and an overview of the region’s
politics, along with a carefully nurtured bottle of wine laid by for a special
occasion. Oftentimes, they had been so long away from other white people that
they had forgotten their own language. These missionaries tended to dress in
Chinese fashion, grow the queue and to eat Chinese food, something that most
other foreigners found incomprehensible. To many travel writers of the day,
these Christians were the ones doing the most to earn the respect and trust of
the Chinese.
“We were told that when the
missionaries went down to do flood relief work a year or so ago, they were so
busy that they didn’t have time to preach, and they did so much good that when
they were through they had to put up the bars to keep the Chinese from joining
the churches en masse. We haven’t heard, however, that they took the hint as to the best way
of doing business...”
-John Dewey,
Letters from China and Japan, 1920
On the other hand, they disparaged
the hard-nosed Baptists who stomped around the country with complete, shocked
disdain of the local culture and insisted on being treated like dignitaries
wherever they went. These zealots withheld food from all and sundry, indulged
in ‘squeeze’ scams while deprecating those who practised it against them and
promoted scabrous gossip amongst their white parishioners. These Church workers
were found most often in the diplomatic communities exchanging gossip, rather
than in the villages toiling for the souls of the Chinese.
All in all the writers of
the day seemed to indicate that a humanist approach to solving China’s social
evils would have been preferable to bludgeoning the heathens with the Crucifix.
The Chinese were told by unscrupulous rabble-rousers that all missionaries
killed babies and used pieces of their intestines and their eyes to work black
magic: such obvious ‘gutter press’ added to the acrimony with which the Chinese
regarded the Christian workers but was hardly necessary to ignite the riots
that later created thousands of Christian martyrs...
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