Chapter VI
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.
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The Awakening of the East: Siberia—Japan—ChinaChapter VI
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