The Desperate Plight of the Coolies

 

Confucius stratified the Celestial society into a series of grades, the lowest of which was referred to as the “mean class”. This group included prostitutes and actors and – arguably the lowest of all – the coolies. Coolies were unskilled labourers, men who had nothing to offer but the strength of their limbs and the endurance of their backs. Many coolies did not choose their station in life; mostly they were driven to it by economic duress, natural disasters and – particularly in Shanghai – by the actions of kidnappers.

In such a heavily-populated country as China has traditionally been, labour is ever an abundant resource. In the days of Ch’in Shi-huang-ti, millions of men were available to be pressed into the construction of his major building works, whether networks of roads or the Great Wall of China. In many cases, labourers were worked to death and their bodies simply tossed into the foundations as the work moved over them. Often, defeated enemies were pressed into service for such projects but usually this workforce was not equal to the outcome; the Emperor would be well within his rights to call upon the 18 Provinces to supply the shortfall in order that his vision would transpire. In this way, the nature of work in China traditionally became a matter of brute force as opposed to efficiency, and has informed the Chinese work ethic in all areas up to this day. Any project would succeed as long as enough muscle was thrown at it.

There were other more subtle currents pervading this state of affairs. Primarily, the feudal obligations to the Emperor underscored the activity: what the Dragon Throne ordained must come about. For many provincial Governors, the mobilisation of an excess population – especially criminals - from their area of control to the oversight of the Imperial ‘project managers’ reduced the number of mouths that they had to feed; it also meant that, in lean years of agricultural production, any shortfalls in tribute to the Emperor’s storehouses could be made up with the supply of labourers for building projects. Finally, in times of war, it gave governors a means of avoiding conflict if it was not in their best interests: under Confucian thought, soldiering was an ignoble duty, to be avoided wherever possible; providing a labour force during times of war rather than a military one, was not a gift to be sneezed at by the Dragon Throne and could not lightly be refused. Thus, a governor could keep his local dignitaries from an onerous task (a favour to be repaid with interest at a later date, certainly), keep ‘face’ with the Imperial Court and be free to play politics and skulduggery with the potential - or actual - enemies of the State.

On a side note, slaves were always present from the early years of the Celestial Kingdom but they were usually only a nominal presence: often slaves were freed en masse across the 18 Provinces as a gesture of magnanimity by the Emperor. Slaves would seem to have been an ostentatious display of wealth by local dignitaries and, as their upkeep was expensive, the wholesale freeing of them by the Emperor would seem to have been a means of easing public expenditure rather than a gesture of altruism.

Successive dynasties, in fear of popular uprisings by the insidious secret societies, had strong motivations for the suppression of technology across the Empire. In their eyes, anything that served to reduce the number of coolies involved in a given task was to be avoided; idle hours allowed for plotting and scheming and this was best given a wide berth. Under the Manchu reign, fears of the numbers of coolies who would be rendered unemployed by the introduction of technology meant that they strove mightily to suppress its introduction. True, the Manchus were also afraid of ‘losing face’ by being shown up as incompetent with technologies which the rest of the world took in its stride and there were mystical apprehensions about the effects of technology on the feng shui of the land; but these were subordinate issues to the more practical one of keeping potential unrest from fomenting among the “mean” classes.

Conversely, from the point of view of the coolies themselves, they perceived their treatment with a fair degree of equanimity. Although tasks were often back-breakingly hard, they felt that sharing the duty with many others made the work less egregious: a task requiring three people was easy when split amongst twelve and even allowed for a little slacking-off. Given the scarcity of work in lean times, the Chinese labourer was cheered by work which supported a majority of those in need of food and cash; often the employer received much ‘face’ due to the number of coolies which he was ready to employ, so a huge workforce was seen as a hallmark of status. The more cynical among us may see straight through to the callous manipulation of the uneducated lower-classes which this system reveals; however, much of the employment of unskilled labour throughout Chinese history has nevertheless been motivated by genuine altruism and a sense of brotherhood and community.

So, how many coolies does it take to complete a task? Here’s an example:

“As we lived in the central part of the city and the only means of travel was by sedan chair and the distance from our house to the Palace was about thirty-six Chinese li (a three-hour ride), we had to start at three o'clock in the morning, in order to be there at six ... We started at three o'clock that morning in total darkness riding in four coolie sedan chairs, one on each side of the chair. In going such a long distance it was necessary to have two relays of chair coolies. This meant twenty-four coolies for the three chairs, not counting an extra coolie for each chair who acted as a sort of head chair bearer. Besides this there were three military officers on horses, one for each chair and two servants riding at the back of each chair. In addition there were three big Chinese carts following behind for the chair coolies to ride in and rest. This made a cavalcade consisting of forty-five men, nine horses and three carts.”

-Two years in the Forbidden City by Princess Der-ling

Given the status of the passengers in this example, the numbers are somewhat exaggerated; however, the number of resources devoted such a simple task is not unusual in this era of Chinese history.

With this example in mind, it is hardly surprising to see why the Chinese resisted the introduction of technology into their country so strongly. Such things as the railways meant that literally thousands of coolies would have been instantly out of work and this was exactly the angle that the Boxers took to incite rebellion among the lower classes. Across the end of the Nineteenth Century and the beginning of the Twentieth, hundreds of miles of railway tracks were built, destroyed and replaced in China, over and over again until the coolies could be convinced that the railways were inevitable and that repeated acts of sabotage served no-one’s best interests in the long run.

Perhaps the saddest type of coolie however, was the one who had no intention of ever becoming one. Around larger cities like Shanghai, particularly those operating as treaty ports with foreign legations and extraterritoriality status, a thriving market began in the trade of human beings. As boomtowns grew and trade became established, workers were required to facilitate practically everything and kidnappers began to grab people from outlying districts and impress them to work in factories and in construction. As we have seen, women stolen from rural areas were invariably dragged into a life of prostitution; men were sent to work in conditions which could only be charitably described as ‘horrific’. In Shanghai’s early days, these unfortunates might have been set to work pounding-in the foundations along the Bund, work which, spent in the stifling environmental conditions, could see them buried beneath tonnes of pylons or sucked down – irrecoverably – into the Whangpoo mud. Others could find themselves tied to machines in airless factories or warehouses, scalded by steam or exposed constantly to toxic levels of chemicals or waste by-products. As in the days of the First Emperor, those who died were simply dumped in the streets, their bodies collected by the city refuse men the following morning.

“Shanghaied” workers were usually, forced to sign contracts which bound them to their new ‘owners’ for either a set duration or until a nominal amount of ‘earnings’ had been accrued; of course this whole process was heavily weighted in the favour of the kidnappers and very few coolies survived undamaged to see the end of their ‘contract’. Those who suffered disabilities or who were unwilling to work and end the arrangement, often met with unfortunate ‘accidents’ and were eliminated from the work pool. From the 1860s onwards, many coolies were snatched from the streets of Shanghai and other cities, loaded upon ships and sent to faraway lands, there to supply labour shortages incurred by the abolition of slavery on foreign shores. These ‘recruits’ were also bound to contracts, usually arranged by tong or Triad overlords, and were able to return to their homes if their fee to the plantation owner could be recouped. Again, few managed to do so, and such a fate was universally regarded as a precursor to a horrible death.

(It should be noted here that no Celestial was allowed to travel outside of Chinese territories at this time, according to Imperial decrees dating from the time of the Ming Dynasty; naturally, very few kidnappers or press-gangers paid much attention to this restriction.)

Finally, there was a group of coolies who chose to adopt the lifestyle. Around Shanghai, notably, the rural denizens often chose to enter the city and seek employment there, especially in years when the crops had failed or had been less than fruitful. Many of these labourers chose to work on the docks shifting cargoes, or as rickshaw men; these occupations hired daily for eight-hour, or more, shifts and those who managed to grab a work ticket could always find ways to maximise their earnings in that shift. If they weren’t lucky enough to grab a work ticket for the day, well there were more at the next shift, or the next day, and, in the meantime, they could always beg.