Chapter X

Present Forces and Tendencies in the far East



The Far Eastern situation is so complex that it is very difficult to
guess what will be the ultimate outcome of the Washington Conference,
and still more difficult to know what outcome we ought to desire. I will
endeavour to set forth the various factors each in turn, not simplifying
the issues, but rather aiming at producing a certain hesitancy which I
regard as desirable in dealing with China. I shall consider successively
the interests and desires of America, Japan, Russia and China, with an
attempt, in each case, to gauge what parts of these various interests
and desires are compatible with the welfare of mankind as a whole.[86]

I begin with America, as the leading spirit in the Conference and the
dominant Power in the world. American public opinion is in favour of
peace, and at the same time profoundly persuaded that America is wise
and virtuous while all other Powers are foolish and wicked. The
pessimistic half of this opinion I do not desire to dispute, but the
optimistic half is more open to question. Apart from peace, American
public opinion believes in commerce and industry, Protestant morality,
athletics, hygiene, and hypocrisy, which may be taken as the main
ingredients of American and English Kultur. Every American I met in the
Far East, with one exception, was a missionary for American Kultur,
whether nominally connected with Christian Missions or not. I ought to
explain that when I speak of hypocrisy I do not mean the conscious
hypocrisy practised by Japanese diplomats in their dealings with Western
Powers, but that deeper, unconscious kind which forms the chief strength
of the Anglo-Saxons. Everybody knows Labouchere's comment on Mr.
Gladstone, that like other politicians he always had a card up his
sleeve, but, unlike the others, he thought the Lord had put it there.
This attitude, which has been characteristic of England, has been
somewhat chastened among ourselves by the satire of men like Bernard
Shaw; but in America it is still just as prevalent and self-confident as
it was with us fifty years ago. There is much justification for such an
attitude. Gladstonian England was more of a moral force than the England
of the present day; and America is more of a moral force at this moment
than any other Power (except Russia). But the development from
Gladstone's moral fervour to the cynical imperialism of his successors
is one which we can now see to be inevitable; and a similar development
is bound to take place in the United States. Therefore, when we wish to
estimate the desirability of extending the influence of the United
States, we have to take account of this almost certain future loss of
idealism.

Nor is idealism in itself always an unmixed blessing to its victims. It
is apt to be incompatible with tolerance, with the practice of
live-and-let-live, which alone can make the world endurable for its less
pugnacious and energetic inhabitants. It is difficult for art or the
contemplative outlook to exist in an atmosphere of bustling practical
philanthropy, as difficult as it would be to write a book in the middle
of a spring cleaning. The ideals which inspire a spring-cleaning are
useful and valuable in their place, but when they are not enriched by
any others they are apt to produce a rather bleak and uncomfortable sort
of world.

All this may seem, at first sight, somewhat remote from the Washington
Conference, but it is essential if we are to take a just view of the
friction between America and Japan. I wish to admit at once that,
hitherto, America has been the best friend of China, and Japan the worst
enemy. It is also true that America is doing more than any other Power
to promote peace in the world, while Japan would probably favour war if
there were a good prospect of victory. On these grounds, I am glad to
see our Government making friends with America and abandoning the
militaristic Anglo-Japanese Alliance. But I do not wish this to be done
in a spirit of hostility to Japan, or in a blind reliance upon the
future good intentions of America. I shall therefore try to state
Japan's case, although, _for the present_, I think it weaker than
America's.

It should be observed, in the first place, that the present American
policy, both in regard to China and in regard to naval armaments, while
clearly good for the world, is quite as clearly in line with American
interests. To take the naval question first: America, with a navy equal
to our own, will be quite strong enough to make our Admiralty understand
that it is out of the question to go to war with America, so that
America will have as much control of the seas as there is any point in
having.[87] The Americans are adamant about the Japanese Navy, but very
pliant about French submarines, which only threaten us. Control of the
seas being secured, limitation of naval armaments merely decreases the
cost, and is an equal gain to all parties, involving no sacrifice of
American interests. To take next the question of China: American
ambitions in China are economic, and require only that the whole country
should be open to the commerce and industry of the United States. The
policy of spheres of influence is obviously less advantageous, to so
rich and economically strong a country as America, than the policy of
the universal Open Door. We cannot therefore regard America's liberal
policy as regards China and naval armaments as any reason for expecting
a liberal policy when it goes against self-interest.

In fact, there is evidence that when American interests or prejudices
are involved liberal and humanitarian principles have no weight
whatever. I will cite two instances: Panama tolls, and Russian trade. In
the matter of the Panama canal, America is bound by treaty not to
discriminate against our shipping; nevertheless a Bill has been passed
by a two-thirds majority of the House of Representatives, making a
discrimination in favour of American shipping. Even if the President
ultimately vetoes it, its present position shows that at least
two-thirds of the House of Representatives share Bethmann-Hollweg's view
of treaty obligations. And as for trade with Russia, England led the
way, while American hostility to the Bolsheviks remained implacable, and
to this day Gompers, in the name of American labour, thunders against
"shaking hands with murder." It cannot therefore be said that America is
_always_ honourable or humanitarian or liberal. The evidence is that
America adopts these virtues when they suit national or rather financial
interests, but fails to perceive their applicability in other cases.

I could of course have given many other instances, but I content myself
with one, because it especially concerns China. I quote from an American
weekly, The _Freeman_ (November 23, 1921, p. 244):--

     On November 1st, the Chinese Government failed to meet an
     obligation of $5,600,000, due and payable to a large
     banking-house in Chicago. The State Department had facilitated
     the negotiation of this loan in the first instance; and now, in
     fulfilment of the promise of Governmental support in an
     emergency, an official cablegram was launched upon Peking, with
     intimations that continued defalcation might have a most serious
     effect upon the financial and political rating of the Chinese
     Republic. In the meantime, the American bankers of the new
     international consortium had offered to advance to the Chinese
     Government an amount which would cover the loan in default,
     together with other obligations already in arrears, and still
     others which will fall due on December 1st; and this proposal had
     also received the full and energetic support of the Department of
     State. That is to say, American financiers and politicians were
     at one and the same time the heroes and villains of the piece;
     having co-operated in the creation of a dangerous situation, they
     came forward handsomely in the hour of trial with an offer to
     save China from themselves as it were, if the Chinese Government
     would only enter into relations with the consortium, and thus
     prepare the way for the eventual establishment of an American
     financial protectorate.

It should be added that the Peking Government, after repeated
negotiations, had decided not to accept loans from the consortium on the
terms on which they were offered. In my opinion, there were very
adequate grounds for this decision. As the same article in the _Freeman_
concludes:--

     If this plan is put through, it will make the bankers of the
     consortium the virtual owners of China; and among these bankers,
     those of the United States are the only ones who are prepared to
     take full advantage of the situation.

There is some reason to think that, at the beginning of the Washington
Conference, an attempt was made by the consortium banks, with the
connivance of the British but not of the American Government, to
establish, by means of the Conference, some measure of international
control over China. In the _Japan Weekly Chronicle_ for November 17,
1921 (p. 725), in a telegram headed "International Control of China," I
find it reported that America is thought to be seeking to establish
international control, and that Mr. Wellington Koo told the
_Philadelphia Public Ledger_: "We suspect the motives which led to the
suggestion and we thoroughly doubt its feasibility. China will bitterly
oppose any Conference plan to offer China international aid." He adds:
"International control will not do. China must be given time and
opportunity to find herself. The world should not misinterpret or
exaggerate the meaning of the convulsion which China is now passing
through." These are wise words, with which every true friend of China
must agree. In the same issue of the _Japan Weekly Chronicle_--which, by
the way, I consider the best weekly paper in the world--I find the
following (p. 728):--

     Mr. Lennox Simpson [Putnam Weale] is quoted as saying: "The
     international bankers have a scheme for the international control
     of China. Mr. Lamont, representing the consortium, offered a
     sixteen-million-dollar loan to China, which the Chinese
     Government refused to accept because Mr. Lamont insisted that the
     Hukuang bonds, German issue, which had been acquired by the
     Morgan Company, should be paid out of it." Mr. Lamont, on hearing
     this charge, made an emphatic denial, saying: "Simpson's
     statement is unqualifiedly false. When this man Simpson talks
     about resisting the control of the international banks he is
     fantastic. We don't want control. We are anxious that the
     Conference result in such a solution as will furnish full
     opportunity to China to fulfil her own destiny."

Sagacious people will be inclined to conclude that so much anger must be
due to being touched on the raw, and that Mr. Lamont, if he had had
nothing to conceal, would not have spoken of a distinguished writer and
one of China's best friends as "this man Simpson."

I do not pretend that the evidence against the consortium is conclusive,
and I have not space here to set it all forth. But to any European
radical Mr. Lamont's statement that the consortium does not want control
reads like a contradiction in terms. Those who wish to lend to a
Government which is on the verge of bankruptcy, must aim at control,
for, even if there were not the incident of the Chicago Bank, it would
be impossible to believe that Messrs. Morgan are so purely philanthropic
as not to care whether they get any interest on their money or not,
although emissaries of the consortium in China have spoken as though
this were the case, thereby greatly increasing the suspicions of the
Chinese.

In the _New Republic_ for November 30, 1921, there is an article by Mr.
Brailsford entitled "A New Technique of Peace," which I fear is
prophetic even if not wholly applicable at the moment when it was
written. I expect to see, if the Americans are successful in the Far
East, China compelled to be orderly so as to afford a field for foreign
commerce and industry; a government which the West will consider good
substituted for the present go-as-you-please anarchy; a gradually
increasing flow of wealth from China to the investing countries, the
chief of which is America; the development of a sweated proletariat; the
spread of Christianity; the substitution of the American civilization
for the Chinese; the destruction of traditional beauty, except for such
_objets d'art_ as millionaires may think it worth while to buy; the
gradual awakening of China to her exploitation by the foreigner; and one
day, fifty or a hundred years hence, the massacre of every white man
throughout the Celestial Empire at a signal from some vast secret
society. All this is probably inevitable, human nature being what it is.
It will be done in order that rich men may grow richer, but we shall be
told that it is done in order that China may have "good" government. The
definition of the word "good" is difficult, but the definition of "good
government" is as easy as A.B.C.: it is government that yields fat
dividends to capitalists.

The Chinese are gentle, urbane, seeking only justice and freedom. They
have a civilization superior to ours in all that makes for human
happiness. They have a vigorous movement of young reformers, who, if
they are allowed a little time, will revivify China and produce
something immeasurably better than the worn-out grinding mechanism that
we call civilization. When Young China has done its work, Americans will
be able to make money by trading with China, without destroying the soul
of the country. China needs a period of anarchy in order to work out her
salvation; all great nations need such a period, from time to time. When
America went through such a period, in 1861-5, England thought of
intervening to insist on "good government," but fortunately abstained.
Now-a-days, in China, all the Powers want to intervene. Americans
recognize this in the case of the wicked Old World, but are smitten with
blindness when it comes to their own consortium. All I ask of them is
that they should admit that they are as other men, and cease to thank
God that they are not as this publican.

So much by way of criticism by America; we come now to the defence of
Japan.

Japan's relations with the Powers are not of her own seeking; all that
Japan asked of the world was to be let alone. This, however, did not
suit the white nations, among whom America led the way. It was a United
States squadron under Commodore Perry that first made Japan aware of
Western aggressiveness. Very soon it became evident that there were only
two ways of dealing with the white man, either to submit to him, or to
fight him with his own weapons. Japan adopted the latter course, and
developed a modern army trained by the Germans, a modern navy modelled
on the British, modern machinery derived from America, and modern
morals copied from the whole lot. Everybody except the British was
horrified, and called the Japanese "yellow monkeys." However, they began
to be respected when they defeated Russia, and after they had captured
Tsing-tao and half-enslaved China they were admitted to equality with
the other Great Powers at Versailles. The consideration shown to them by
the West is due to their armaments alone; none of their other good
qualities would have saved them from being regarded as "niggers."

People who have never been outside Europe can hardly imagine the
intensity of the colour prejudice that white men develop when brought
into contact with any different pigmentation. I have seen Chinese of the
highest education, men as cultured as (say) Dean Inge, treated by greasy
white men as if they were dirt, in a way in which, at home, no Duke
would venture to treat a crossing-sweeper. The Japanese are not treated
in this way, because they have a powerful army and navy. The fact that
white men, as individuals, no longer dare to bully individual Japanese,
is important as a beginning of better relations towards the coloured
races in general. If the Japanese, by defeat in war, are prevented from
retaining the status of a Great Power, the coloured races in general
will suffer, and the tottering insolence of the white man will be
re-established. Also the world will have lost the last chance of the
survival of civilizations of a different type from that of the
industrial West.

The civilization of Japan, in its material aspect, is similar to that of
the West, though industrialism, as yet, is not very developed. But in
its mental aspect it is utterly unlike the West, particularly the
Anglo-Saxon West. Worship of the Mikado, as an actually divine being,
is successfully taught in every village school, and provides the popular
support for nationalism. The nationalistic aims of Japan are not merely
economic; they are also dynastic and territorial in a mediæval way. The
morality of the Japanese is not utilitarian, but intensely idealistic.
Filial piety is the basis, and includes patriotism, because the Mikado
is the father of his people. The Japanese outlook has the same kind of
superstitious absence of realism that one finds in thirteenth-century
theories as to the relations of the Emperor and the Pope. But in Europe
the Emperor and the Pope were different people, and their quarrels
promoted freedom of thought; in Japan, since 1868, they are combined in
one sacred person, and there are no internal conflicts to produce doubt.

Japan, unlike China, is a religious country. The Chinese doubt a
proposition until it is proved to be true; the Japanese believe it until
it is proved to be false. I do not know of any evidence against the view
that the Mikado is divine. Japanese religion is essentially
nationalistic, like that of the Jews in the Old Testament. Shinto, the
State religion, has been in the main invented since 1868,[88] and
propagated by education in schools. (There was of course an old Shinto
religion, but most of what constitutes modern Shintoism is new.) It is
not a religion which aims at being universal, like Buddhism,
Christianity, and Islam; it is a tribal religion, only intended to
appeal to the Japanese. Buddhism subsists side by side with it, and is
believed by the same people. It is customary to adopt Shinto rites for
marriages and Buddhist rites for funerals, because Buddhism is
considered more suitable for mournful occasions. Although Buddhism is a
universal religion, its Japanese form is intensely national,[89] like
the Church of England. Many of its priests marry, and in some temples
the priesthood is hereditary. Its dignitaries remind one vividly of
English Archdeacons.

The Japanese, even when they adopt industrial methods, do not lose their
sense of beauty. One hears complaints that their goods are shoddy, but
they have a remarkable power of adapting artistic taste to
industrialism. If Japan were rich it might produce cities as beautiful
as Venice, by methods as modern as those of New York. Industrialism has
hitherto brought with it elsewhere a rising tide of ugliness, and any
nation which can show us how to make this tide recede deserves our
gratitude.

The Japanese are earnest, passionate, strong-willed, amazingly hard
working, and capable of boundless sacrifice to an ideal. Most of them
have the correlative defects: lack of humour, cruelty, intolerance, and
incapacity for free thought. But these defects are by no means
universal; one meets among them a certain number of men and women of
quite extraordinary excellence. And there is in their civilization as a
whole a degree of vigour and determination which commands the highest
respect.

The growth of industrialism in Japan has brought with it the growth of
Socialism and the Labour movement.[90] In China, the intellectuals are
often theoretical Socialists, but in the absence of Labour
organizations there is as yet little room for more than theory. In
Japan, Trade Unionism has made considerable advances, and every variety
of socialist and anarchist opinion is vigorously represented. In time,
if Japan becomes increasingly industrial, Socialism may become a
political force; as yet, I do not think it is. Japanese Socialists
resemble those of other countries, in that they do not share the
national superstitions. They are much persecuted by the Government, but
not so much as Socialists in America--so at least I am informed by an
American who is in a position to judge.

The real power is still in the hands of certain aristocratic families.
By the constitution, the Ministers of War and Marine are directly
responsible to the Mikado, not to the Diet or the Prime Minister. They
therefore can and do persist in policies which are disliked by the
Foreign Office. For example, if the Foreign Office were to promise the
evacuation of Vladivostok, the War Office might nevertheless decide to
keep the soldiers there, and there would be no constitutional remedy.
Some part, at least, of what appears as Japanese bad faith is explicable
in this way. There is of course a party which wishes to establish real
Parliamentary government, but it is not likely to come into power unless
the existing régime suffers some severe diplomatic humiliation. If the
Washington Conference had compelled the evacuation of not only Shantung
but also Vladivostok by diplomatic pressure, the effect on the internal
government of Japan would probably have been excellent.

The Japanese are firmly persuaded that they have no friends, and that
the Americana are their implacable foes. One gathers that the
Government regards war with America as unavoidable in the long run. The
argument would be that the economic imperialism of the United States
will not tolerate the industrial development of a formidable rival in
the Pacific, and that sooner or later the Japanese will be presented
with the alternative of dying by starvation or on the battlefield. Then
Bushido will come into play, and will lead to choice of the battlefield
in preference to starvation. Admiral Sato[91] (the Japanese Bernhardi,
as he is called) maintains that absence of Bushido in the Americans will
lead to their defeat, and that their money-grubbing souls will be
incapable of enduring the hardships and privations of a long war. This,
of course, is romantic nonsense. Bushido is no use in modern war, and
the Americans are quite as courageous and obstinate as the Japanese. A
war might last ten years, but it would certainly end in the defeat of
Japan.

One is constantly reminded of the situation between England and Germany
in the years before 1914. The Germans wanted to acquire a colonial
empire by means similar to those which we had employed; so do the
Japanese. We considered such methods wicked when employed by foreigners;
so do the Americans. The Germans developed their industries and roused
our hostility by competition; the Japanese are similarly competing with
America in Far Eastern markets. The Germans felt themselves encircled by
our alliances, which we regarded as purely defensive; the Japanese,
similarly, found themselves isolated at Washington (except for French
sympathy) since the superior diplomatic skill of the Americans has
brought us over to their side. The Germans at last, impelled by terrors
largely of their own creation, challenged the whole world, and fell; it
is very much to be feared that Japan may do likewise. The pros and cons
are so familiar in the case of Germany that I need not elaborate them
further, since the whole argument can be transferred bodily to the case
of Japan. There is, however, this difference, that, while Germany aimed
at hegemony of the whole world, the Japanese only aim at hegemony in
Eastern Asia.

The conflict between America and Japan is superficially economic, but,
as often happens, the economic rivalry is really a cloak for deeper
passions. Japan still believes in the divine right of kings; America
believes in the divine right of commerce. I have sometimes tried to
persuade Americans that there may be nations which will not gain by an
extension of their foreign commerce, but I have always found the attempt
futile. The Americans believe also that their religion and morality and
culture are far superior to those of the Far East. I regard this as a
delusion, though one shared by almost all Europeans. The Japanese,
profoundly and with all the strength of their being, long to preserve
their own culture and to avoid becoming like Europeans or Americans; and
in this I think we ought to sympathize with them. The colour prejudice
is even more intense among Americans than among Europeans; the Japanese
are determined to prove that the yellow man may be the equal of the
white man. In this, also, justice and humanity are on the side of Japan.
Thus on the deeper issues, which underlie the economic and diplomatic
conflict, my feelings go with the Japanese rather than with the
Americans.

Unfortunately, the Japanese are always putting themselves in the wrong
through impatience and contempt. They ought to have claimed for China
the same consideration that they have extorted towards themselves; then
they could have become, what they constantly profess to be, the
champions of Asia against Europe. The Chinese are prone to gratitude,
and would have helped Japan loyally if Japan had been a true friend to
them. But the Japanese despise the Chinese more than the Europeans do;
they do not want to destroy the belief in Eastern inferiority, but only
to be regarded as themselves belonging to the West. They have therefore
behaved so as to cause a well-deserved hatred of them in China. And this
same behaviour has made the best Americans as hostile to them as the
worst. If America had had none but base reasons for hostility to them,
they would have found many champions in the United States; as it is,
they have practically none. It is not yet too late; it is still possible
for them to win the affection of China and the respect of the best
Americans. To achieve this, they would have to change their Chinese
policy and adopt a more democratic constitution; but if they do not
achieve it, they will fall as Germany fell. And their fall will be a
great misfortune for mankind.

A war between America and Japan would be a very terrible thing in
itself, and a still more terrible thing in its consequences. It would
destroy Japanese civilization, ensure the subjugation of China to
Western culture, and launch America upon a career of world-wide
militaristic imperialism. It is therefore, at all costs, to be avoided.
If it is to be avoided, Japan must become more liberal; and Japan will
only become more liberal if the present régime is discredited by
failure. Therefore, in the interests of Japan no less than in the
interests of China, it would be well if Japan were forced, by the joint
diplomatic pressure of England and America, to disgorge, not only
Shantung, but also all of Manchuria except Port Arthur and its immediate
neighbourhood. (I make this exception because I think nothing short of
actual war would lead the Japanese to abandon Port Arthur.) Our Alliance
with Japan, since the end of the Russo-Japanese war, has been an
encouragement to Japan in all that she has done amiss. Not that Japan
has been worse than we have, but that certain kinds of crime are only
permitted to very great Powers, and have been committed by the Japanese
at an earlier stage of their career than prudence would warrant. Our
Alliance has been a contributory cause of Japan's mistakes, and the
ending of the Alliance is a necessary condition of Japanese reform.

We come now to Russia's part in the Chinese problem. There is a tendency
in Europe to regard Russia as decrepit, but this is a delusion. True,
millions are starving and industry is at a standstill. But that does not
mean what it would in a more highly organized country. Russia is still
able to steal a march on us in Persia and Afghanistan, and on the
Japanese in Outer Mongolia. Russia is still able to organize Bolshevik
propaganda in every country in Asia. And a great part of the
effectiveness of this propaganda lies in its promise of liberation from
Europe. So far, in China proper, it has affected hardly anyone except
the younger students, to whom Bolshevism appeals as a method of
developing industry without passing through the stage of private
capitalism. This appeal will doubtless diminish as the Bolsheviks are
more and more forced to revert to capitalism. Moreover, Bolshevism, as
it has developed in Russia, is quite peculiarly inapplicable to China,
for the following reasons: (1) It requires a strong centralized State,
whereas China has a very weak State, and is tending more and more to
federalism instead of centralization; (2) Bolshevism requires a very
great deal of government, and more control of individual lives by the
authorities than has ever been known before, whereas China has developed
personal liberty to an extraordinary degree, and is the country of all
others where the doctrines of anarchism seem to find successful
practical application; (3) Bolshevism dislikes private trading, which is
the breath of life to all Chinese except the literati. For these
reasons, it is not likely that Bolshevism as a creed will make much
progress in China proper. But Bolshevism as a political force is not the
same thing as Bolshevism as a creed. The arguments which proved
successful with the Ameer of Afghanistan or the nomads of Mongolia were
probably different from those employed in discussion with Mr. Lansbury.
The Asiatic expansion of Bolshevik influence is not a distinctively
Bolshevik phenomenon, but a continuation of traditional Russian policy,
carried on by men who are more energetic, more intelligent, and less
corrupt than the officials of the Tsar's régime, and who moreover, like
the Americans, believe themselves to be engaged in the liberation of
mankind, not in mere imperialistic expansion. This belief, of course,
adds enormously to the vigour and success of Bolshevik imperialism, and
gives an impulse to Asiatic expansion which is not likely to be soon
spent, unless there is an actual restoration of the Tsarist régime
under some new Kolchak dependent upon alien arms for his throne and his
life.

It is therefore not at all unlikely, if the international situation
develops in certain ways, that Russia may set to work to regain
Manchuria, and to recover that influence over Peking which the control
of Manchuria is bound to give to any foreign Power. It would probably be
useless to attempt such an enterprise while Japan remains unembarrassed,
but it would at once become feasible if Japan were at war with America
or with Great Britain. There is therefore nothing improbable in the
supposition that Russia may, within the next ten or twenty years,
recover the position which she held in relation to China before the
Russo-Japanese war. It must be remembered also that the Russians have an
instinct for colonization, and have been trekking eastward for
centuries. This tendency has been interrupted by the disasters of the
last seven years, but is likely to assert itself again before long.

The hegemony of Russia in Asia would not, to my mind, be in any way
regrettable. Russia would probably not be strong enough to tyrannize as
much as the English, the Americans, or the Japanese would do. Moreover,
the Russians are sufficiently Asiatic in outlook and character to be
able to enter into relations of equality and mutual understanding with
Asiatics, in a way which seems quite impossible for the English-speaking
nations. And an Asiatic block, if it could be formed, would be strong
for defence and weak for attack, which would make for peace. Therefore,
on the whole, such a result, if it came about, would probably be
desirable In the interests of mankind as a whole.

What, meanwhile, is China's interest? What would be ideally best for
China would be to recover Manchuria and Shantung, and then be let alone.
The anarchy in China might take a long time to subside, but in the end
some system suited to China would be established. The artificial ending
of Chinese anarchy by outside interference means the establishment of
some system convenient for foreign trade and industry, but probably
quite unfitted to the needs of the Chinese themselves. The English in
the seventeenth century, the French in the eighteenth, the Americans in
the nineteenth, and the Russians in our own day, have passed through
years of anarchy and civil war, which were essential to their
development, and could not have been curtailed by outside interference
without grave detriment to the final solution. So it is with China.
Western political ideas have swept away the old imperial system, but
have not yet proved strong enough to put anything stable in its place.
The problem of transforming China into a modern country is a difficult
one, and foreigners ought to be willing to have some patience while the
Chinese attempt its solution. They understand their own country, and we
do not. If they are let alone, they will, in the end, find a solution
suitable to their character, which we shall certainly not do. A solution
slowly reached by themselves may be stable, whereas one prematurely
imposed by outside Powers will be artificial and therefore unstable.

There is, however, very little hope that the decisions reached by the
Washington Conference will permanently benefit China, and a considerable
chance that they may do quite the reverse. In Manchuria the _status quo_
is to be maintained, while in Shantung the Japanese have made
concessions, the value of which only time can show. The Four
Powers--America, Great Britain, France, and Japan--have agreed to
exploit China in combination, not competitively. There is a consortium
as regards loans, which will have the power of the purse and will
therefore be the real Government of China. As the Americans are the only
people who have much spare capital, they will control the consortium. As
they consider their civilization the finest in the world, they will set
to work to turn the Chinese into muscular Christians. As the financiers
are the most splendid feature of the American civilization, China must
be so governed as to enrich the financiers, who will in return establish
colleges and hospitals and Y.M.C.A.'s throughout the length and breadth
of the land, and employ agents to buy up the artistic treasures of China
for sepulture in their mansions. Chinese intellect, like that of
America, will be, directly or indirectly, in the pay of the Trust
magnates, and therefore no effective voice will be, raised in favour of
radical reform. The inauguration of this system will be welcomed even by
some Socialists in the West as a great victory for peace and freedom.

But it is impossible to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, or peace
and freedom out of capitalism. The fourfold agreement between England,
France, America and Japan is, perhaps, a safeguard of peace, but in so
far as it brings peace nearer it puts freedom further off. It is the
peace obtained when competing firms join in a combine, which is by no
means always advantageous to those who have profited by the previous
competition. It is quite possible to dominate China without infringing
the principle of the Open Door. This principle merely ensures that the
domination everywhere shall be American, because America is the
strongest Power financially and commercially. It is to America's
interest to secure, in China, certain things consistent with Chinese
interests, and certain others inconsistent with them. The Americans, for
the sake of commerce and good investments, would wish to see a stable
government in China, an increase in the purchasing power of the people,
and an absence of territorial aggression by other Powers. But they will
not wish to see the Chinese strong enough to own and work their own
railways or mines, and they will resent all attempts at economic
independence, particularly when (as is to be expected) they take the

form of State Socialism, or what Lenin calls State Capitalism. They will
keep a _dossier_ of every student educated in colleges under American
control, and will probably see to it that those who profess Socialist or
Radical opinions shall get no posts. They will insist upon the standard
of hypocrisy which led them to hound out Gorky when he visited the
United States. They will destroy beauty and substitute tidiness. In
short, they will insist upon China becoming as like as possible to
"God's own country," except that it will not be allowed to keep the
wealth generated by its industries. The Chinese have it in them to give
to the world a new contribution to civilization as valuable as that
which they gave in the past. This would be prevented by the domination
of the Americans, because they believe their own civilization to be
perfect.

The ideal of capitalism, if it could be achieved, would be to destroy
competition among capitalists by means of Trusts, but to keep alive
competition among workers. To some extent Trade Unionism has succeeded
in diminishing competition among wage-earners within the advanced
industrial countries; but it has only intensified the conflict between
workers of different races, particularly between the white and yellow
races.[92] Under the existing economic system, the competition of cheap
Asiatic labour in America, Canada or Australia might well be harmful to
white labour in those countries. But under Socialism an influx of
industrious, skilled workers in sparsely populated countries would be an
obvious gain to everybody. Under Socialism, the immigration of any
person who produces more than he or she consumes will be a gain to every
other individual in the community, since it increases the wealth per
head. But under capitalism, owing to competition for jobs, a worker who
either produces much or consumes little is the natural enemy of the
others; thus the system makes for inefficient work, and creates an
opposition between the general interest and the individual interest of
the wage-earner. The case of yellow labour in America and the British
Dominions is one of the most unfortunate instances of the artificial
conflicts of interest produced by the capitalist system. This whole
question of Asiatic immigration, which is liable to cause trouble for
centuries to come, can only be radically solved by Socialism, since
Socialism alone can bring the private interests of workers in this
matter into harmony with the interests of their nation and of the world.

The concentration of the world's capital in a few nations, which, by
means of it, are able to drain all other nations of their wealth, is
obviously not a system by which permanent peace can be secured except
through the complete subjection of the poorer nations. In the long run,
China will see no reason to leave the profits of industry in the hands
of foreigners. If, for the present, Russia is successfully starved into
submission to foreign capital, Russia also will, when the time is ripe,
attempt a new rebellion against the world-empire of finance. I cannot
see, therefore, any establishment of a stable world-system as a result
of the syndicate formed at Washington. On the contrary, we may expect
that, when Asia has thoroughly assimilated our economic system, the
Marxian class-war will break out in the form of a war between Asia and
the West, with America as the protagonist of capitalism, and Russia as
the champion of Asia and Socialism. In such a war, Asia would be
fighting for freedom, but probably too late to preserve the distinctive
civilizations which now make Asia valuable to the human family. Indeed,
the war would probably be so devastating that no civilization of any
sort would survive it.

To sum up: the real government of the world is in the hands of the big
financiers, except on questions which rouse passionate public interest.
No doubt the exclusion of Asiatics from America and the Dominions is due
to popular pressure, and is against the interests of big finance. But
not many questions rouse so much popular feeling, and among them only a
few are sufficiently simple to be incapable of misrepresentation in the
interests of the capitalists. Even in such a case as Asiatic
immigration, it is the capitalist system which causes the anti-social
interests of wage-earners and makes them illiberal. The existing system
makes each man's individual interest opposed, in some vital point, to
the interest of the whole. And what applies to individuals applies also
to nations; under the existing economic system, a nation's interest is
seldom the same as that of the world at large, and then only by
accident. International peace might conceivably be secured under the
present system, but only by a combination of the strong to exploit the
weak. Such a combination is being attempted as the outcome of
Washington; but it can only diminish, in the long run, the little
freedom now enjoyed by the weaker nations. The essential evil of the
present system, as Socialists have pointed out over and over again, is
production for profit instead of for use. A man or a company or a nation
produces goods, not in order to consume them, but in order to sell them.
Hence arise competition and exploitation and all the evils, both in
internal labour problems and in international relations. The development
of Chinese commerce by capitalistic methods means an increase, for the
Chinese, in the prices of the things they export, which are also the
things they chiefly consume, and the artificial stimulation of new needs
for foreign goods, which places China at the mercy of those who supply
these goods, destroys the existing contentment, and generates a feverish
pursuit of purely material ends. In a socialistic world, production will
be regulated by the same authority which represents the needs of the
consumers, and the whole business of competitive buying and selling will
cease. Until then, it is possible to have peace by submission to
exploitation, or some degree of freedom by continual war, but it is not
possible to have both peace and freedom. The success of the present
American policy may, for a time, secure peace, but will certainly not
secure freedom for the weaker nations, such as Chinese. Only
international Socialism can secure both; and owing to the stimulation of
revolt by capitalist oppression, even peace alone can never be secure
until international Socialism is established throughout the world.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 86: The interests of England, apart from the question of
India, are roughly the same as those of America. Broadly speaking,
British interests are allied with American finance, as against the
pacifistic and agrarian tendencies of the Middle West.]

[Footnote 87: It is interesting to observe that, since the Washington
Conference, the American Administration has used the naval ratio there
agreed upon to induce Congress to consent to a larger expenditure on the
navy than would otherwise have been sanctioned. Expenditure on the navy
is unpopular in America, but by its parade of pacifism the Government
has been enabled to extract the necessary money out of the pockets of
reluctant taxpayers. See _The Times'_ New York Correspondent's telegram
in _The Times_ of April 10, 1922; also April 17 and 22.]

[Footnote 88: See Chamberlain, _The Invention of a New Religion_,
published by the Rationalist Press Association.]

[Footnote 89: See Murdoch, _History of Japan_, I. pp. 500 ff.]

[Footnote 90: An excellent account of these is given in _The Socialist
and Labour Movement in Japan_, by an American Sociologist, published by
the _Japan Chronicle_.]

[Footnote 91: Author of a book called _If Japan and America Fight_.]

[Footnote 92: The attitude of white labour to that of Asia is
illustrated by the following telegram which appeared in _The Times_ for
April 5, 1922, from its Melbourne correspondent: "A deputation of
shipwrights and allied trades complained to Mr. Hughes, the Prime
Minister, that four Commonwealth ships had been repaired at Antwerp
instead of in Australia, and that two had been repaired in India by
black labour receiving eight annas (8d.) a day. When the deputation
reached the black labour allegation Mr. Hughes jumped from his chair and
turned on his interviewers with, 'Black labour be damned. Go to
blithering blazes. Don't talk to me about black labour.' Hurrying from
the room, he pushed his way through the deputation...." I do not
generally agree with Mr. Hughes, but on this occasion, deeply as I
deplore his language, I find myself in agreement with his sentiments,
assuming that the phrase "black labour be damned" is meant to confer a
blessing.]

Chapter XI

Chinese and Western Civilization Contrasted



There is at present in China, as we have seen in previous chapters, a
close contact between our civilization and that which is native to the
Celestial Empire. It is still a doubtful question whether this contact
will breed a new civilization better than either of its parents, or
whether it will merely destroy the native culture and replace it by that
of America. Contacts between different civilizations have often in the
past proved to be landmarks in human progress. Greece learnt from Egypt,
Rome from Greece, the Arabs from the Roman Empire, mediæval Europe from
the Arabs, and Renaissance Europe from the Byzantines. In many of these
cases, the pupils proved better than their masters. In the case of
China, if we regard the Chinese as the pupils, this may be the case
again. In fact, we have quite as much to learn from them as they from
us, but there is far less chance of our learning it. If I treat the
Chinese as our pupils, rather than vice versa, it is only because I fear
we are unteachable.

I propose in this chapter to deal with the purely cultural aspects of
the questions raised by the contact of China with the West. In the three
following chapters, I shall deal with questions concerning the internal
condition of China, returning finally, in a concluding chapter, to the
hopes for the future which are permissible in the present difficult
situation.

With the exception of Spain and America in the sixteenth century, I
cannot think of any instance of two civilizations coming into contact
after such a long period of separate development as has marked those of
China and Europe. Considering this extraordinary separateness, it is
surprising that mutual understanding between Europeans and Chinese is
not more difficult. In order to make this point clear, it will be worth
while to dwell for a moment on the historical origins of the two
civilizations.

Western Europe and America have a practically homogeneous mental life,
which I should trace to three sources: (1) Greek culture; (2) Jewish
religion and ethics; (3) modern industrialism, which itself is an
outcome of modern science. We may take Plato, the Old Testament, and
Galileo as representing these three elements, which have remained
singularly separable down to the present day. From the Greeks we derive
literature and the arts, philosophy and pure mathematics; also the more
urbane portions of our social outlook. From the Jews we derive fanatical
belief, which its friends call "faith"; moral fervour, with the
conception of sin; religious intolerance, and some part of our
nationalism. From science, as applied in industrialism, we derive power
and the sense of power, the belief that we are as gods, and may justly
be, the arbiters of life and death for unscientific races. We derive
also the empirical method, by which almost all real knowledge has been
acquired. These three elements, I think, account for most of our
mentality.

No one of these three elements has had any appreciable part in the
development of China, except that Greece indirectly influenced Chinese
painting, sculpture, and music.[93] China belongs, in the dawn of its
history, to the great river empires, of which Egypt and Babylonia
contributed to our origins, by the influence which they had upon the
Greeks and Jews. Just as these civilizations were rendered possible by
the rich alluvial soil of the Nile, the Euphrates, and the Tigris, so
the original civilization of China was rendered possible by the Yellow
River. Even in the time of Confucius, the Chinese Empire did not stretch
far either to south or north of the Yellow River. But in spite of this
similarity in physical and economic circumstances, there was very little
in common between the mental outlook of the Chinese and that of the
Egyptians and Babylonians. Lao-Tze[94] and Confucius, who both belong to
the sixth century B.C., have already the characteristics which we should
regard as distinctive of the modern Chinese. People who attribute
everything to economic causes would be hard put to it to account for the
differences between the ancient Chinese and the ancient Egyptians and
Babylonians. For my part, I have no alternative theory to offer. I do
not think science can, at present, account wholly for national
character. Climate and economic circumstances account for part, but not
the whole. Probably a great deal depends upon the character of dominant
individuals who happen to emerge at a formative period, such as Moses,
Mahomet, and Confucius.

The oldest known Chinese sage is Lao-Tze, the founder of Taoism. "Lao
Tze" is not really a proper name, but means merely "the old
philosopher." He was (according to tradition) an older contemporary of
Confucius, and his philosophy is to my mind far more interesting. He
held that every person, every animal, and every thing has a certain way
or manner of behaving which is natural to him, or her, or it, and that
we ought to conform to this way ourselves and encourage others to
conform to it. "Tao" means "way," but used in a more or less mystical
sense, as in the text: "I am the Way and the Truth and the Life." I
think he fancied that death was due to departing from the "way," and
that if we all lived strictly according to nature we should be immortal,
like the heavenly bodies. In later times Taoism degenerated into mere
magic, and was largely concerned with the search for the elixir of life.
But I think the hope of escaping from death was an element in Taoist
philosophy from the first.

Lao-Tze's book, or rather the book attributed to him, is very short, but
his ideas were developed by his disciple Chuang-Tze, who is more
interesting than his master. The philosophy which both advocated was one
of freedom. They thought ill of government, and of all interferences
with Nature. They complained of the hurry of modern life, which they
contrasted with the calm existence of those whom they called "the pure
men of old." There is a flavour of mysticism in the doctrine of the Tao,
because in spite of the multiplicity of living things the Tao is in some
sense one, so that if all live according to it there will be no strife
in the world. But both sages have already the Chinese characteristics of
humour, restraint, and under-statement. Their humour is illustrated by
Chuang-Tze's account of Po-Lo who "understood the management of
horses," and trained them till five out of every ten died.[95] Their
restraint and under-statement are evident when they are compared with
Western mystics. Both characteristics belong to all Chinese literature
and art, and to the conversation of cultivated Chinese in the present
day. All classes in China are fond of laughter, and never miss a chance
of a joke. In the educated classes, the humour is sly and delicate, so
that Europeans often fail to see it, which adds to the enjoyment of the
Chinese. Their habit of under-statement is remarkable. I met one day in
Peking a middle-aged man who told me he was academically interested in
the theory of politics; being new to the country, I took his statement
at its face value, but I afterwards discovered that he had been governor
of a province, and had been for many years a very prominent politician.
In Chinese poetry there is an apparent absence of passion which is due
to the same practice of under-statement. They consider that a wise man
should always remain calm, and though they have their passionate moments
(being in fact a very excitable race), they do not wish to perpetuate
them in art, because they think ill of them. Our romantic movement,
which led people to like vehemence, has, so far as I know, no analogue
in their literature. Their old music, some of which is very beautiful,
makes so little noise that one can only just hear it. In art they aim at
being exquisite, and in life at being reasonable. There is no admiration
for the ruthless strong man, or for the unrestrained expression of
passion. After the more blatant life of the West, one misses at first
all the effects at which they are aiming; but gradually the beauty and
dignity of their existence become visible, so that the foreigners who
have lived longest in China are those who love the Chinese best.

The Taoists, though they survive as magicians, were entirely ousted from
the favour of the educated classes by Confucianism. I must confess that
I am unable to appreciate the merits of Confucius. His writings are
largely occupied with trivial points of etiquette, and his main concern
is to teach people how to behave correctly on various occasions. When
one compares him, however, with the traditional religious teachers of
some other ages and races, one must admit that he has great merits, even
if they are mainly negative. His system, as developed by his followers,
is one of pure ethics, without religious dogma; it has not given rise to
a powerful priesthood, and it has not led to persecution. It certainly
has succeeded in producing a whole nation possessed of exquisite manners
and perfect courtesy. Nor is Chinese courtesy merely conventional; it is
quite as reliable in situations for which no precedent has been
provided. And it is not confined to one class; it exists even in the
humblest coolie. It is humiliating to watch the brutal insolence of
white men received by the Chinese with a quiet dignity which cannot
demean itself to answer rudeness with rudeness. Europeans often regard
this as weakness, but it is really strength, the strength by which the
Chinese have hitherto conquered all their conquerors.

There is one, and only one, important foreign element in the traditional
civilization of China, and that is Buddhism. Buddhism came to China from
India in the early centuries of the Christian era, and acquired a
definite place in the religion of the country. We, with the intolerant
outlook which we have taken over from the Jews, imagine that if a man
adopts one religion he cannot adopt another. The dogmas of Christianity
and Mohammedanism, in their orthodox forms, are so framed that no man
can accept both. But in China this incompatibility does not exist; a man
may be both a Buddhist and a Confucian, because nothing in either is
incompatible with the other. In Japan, similarly, most people are both
Buddhists and Shintoists. Nevertheless there is a temperamental
difference between Buddhism and Confucianism, which will cause any
individual to lay stress on one or other even if he accepts both.
Buddhism is a religion in the sense in which we understand the word. It
has mystic doctrines and a way of salvation and a future life. It has a
message to the world intended to cure the despair which it regards as
natural to those who have no religious faith. It assumes an instinctive
pessimism only to be cured by some gospel. Confucianism has nothing of
all this. It assumes people fundamentally at peace with the world,
wanting only instruction as to how to live, not encouragement to live at
all. And its ethical instruction is not based upon any metaphysical or
religious dogma; it is purely mundane. The result of the co-existence of
these two religions in China has been that the more religious and
contemplative natures turned to Buddhism, while the active
administrative type was content with Confucianism, which was always the
official teaching, in which candidates for the civil service were
examined. The result is that for many ages the Government of China has
been in the hands of literary sceptics, whose administration has been
lacking in those qualities of energy and destructiveness which Western
nations demand of their rulers. In fact, they have conformed very
closely to the maxims of Chuang-Tze. The result has been that the
population has been happy except where civil war brought misery; that
subject nations have been allowed autonomy; and that foreign nations
have had no need to fear China, in spite of its immense population and
resources.

Comparing the civilization of China with that of Europe, one finds in
China most of what was to be found in Greece, but nothing of the other
two elements of our civilization, namely Judaism and science. China is
practically destitute of religion, not only in the upper classes, but
throughout the population. There is a very definite ethical code, but it
is not fierce or persecuting, and does not contain the notion "sin."
Except quite recently, through European influence, there has been no
science and no industrialism.

What will be the outcome of the contact of this ancient civilization
with the West? I am not thinking of the political or economic outcome,
but of the effect on the Chinese mental outlook. It is difficult to
dissociate the two questions altogether, because of course the cultural
contact with the West must be affected by the nature of the political
and economic contact. Nevertheless, I wish to consider the cultural
question as far as I can in isolation.

There is, in China, a great eagerness to acquire Western learning, not
simply in order to acquire national strength and be able to resist
Western aggression, but because a very large number of people consider
learning a good thing in itself. It is traditional in China to place a
high value on knowledge, but in old days the knowledge sought was only
of the classical literature. Nowadays it is generally realized that
Western knowledge is more useful. Many students go every year to
universities in Europe, and still more to America, to learn science or
economics or law or political theory. These men, when they return to
China, mostly become teachers or civil servants or journalists or
politicians. They are rapidly modernizing the Chinese outlook,
especially in the educated classes.

The traditional civilization of China had become unprogressive, and had
ceased to produce much of value in the way of art and literature. This
was not due, I think, to any decadence in the race, but merely to lack
of new material. The influx of Western knowledge provides just the
stimulus that was needed. Chinese students are able and extraordinarily
keen. Higher education suffers from lack of funds and absence of
libraries, but does not suffer from any lack of the finest human
material. Although Chinese civilization has hitherto been deficient in
science, it never contained anything hostile to science, and therefore
the spread of scientific knowledge encounters no such obstacles as the
Church put in its way in Europe. I have no doubt that if the Chinese
could get a stable government and sufficient funds, they would, within
the next thirty years, begin to produce remarkable work in science. It
is quite likely that they might outstrip us, because they come with
fresh zest and with all the ardour of a renaissance. In fact, the
enthusiasm for learning in Young China reminds one constantly of the
renaissance spirit in fifteenth-century Italy.

It is very remarkable, as distinguishing the Chinese from the Japanese,
that the things they wish to learn from us are not those that bring
wealth or military strength, but rather those that have either an
ethical and social value, or a purely intellectual interest. They are
not by any means uncritical of our civilization. Some of them told me
that they were less critical before 1914, but that the war made them
think there must be imperfections in the Western manner of life. The
habit of looking to the West for wisdom was, however, very strong, and
some of the younger ones thought that Bolshevism could give what they
were looking for. That hope also must be suffering disappointment, and
before long they will realize that they must work out their own
salvation by means of a new synthesis. The Japanese adopted our faults
and kept their own, but it is possible to hope that the Chinese will
make the opposite selection, keeping their own merits and adopting ours.

The distinctive merit of our civilization, I should say, is the
scientific method; the distinctive merit of the Chinese is a just
conception of the ends of life. It is these two that one must hope to
see gradually uniting.

Lao-Tze describes the operation of Tao as "production without
possession, action without self-assertion, development without
domination." I think one could derive from these words a conception of
the ends of life as reflective Chinese see them, and it must be admitted
that they are very different from the ends which most white men set
before themselves. Possession, self-assertion, domination, are eagerly
sought, both nationally and individually. They have been erected into a
philosophy by Nietzsche, and Nietzsche's disciples are not confined to
Germany.

But, it will be said, you have been comparing Western practice with
Chinese theory; if you had compared Western theory with Chinese
practice, the balance would have come out quite differently. There is,
of course, a great deal of truth in this. Possession, which is one of
the three things that Lao-Tze wishes us to forego, is certainly dear to
the heart of the average Chinaman. As a race, they are tenacious of
money--not perhaps more so than the French, but certainly more than the
English or the Americans. Their politics are corrupt, and their powerful
men make money in disgraceful ways. All this it is impossible to deny.

Nevertheless, as regards the other two evils, self-assertion and
domination, I notice a definite superiority to ourselves in Chinese
practice. There is much less desire than among the white races to
tyrannize over other people. The weakness of China internationally is
quite as much due to this virtue as to the vices of corruption and so on
which are usually assigned as the sole reason. If any nation in the
world could ever be "too proud to fight," that nation would be China.
The natural Chinese attitude is one of tolerance and friendliness,
showing courtesy and expecting it in return. If the Chinese chose, they
could be the most powerful nation in the world. But they only desire
freedom, not domination. It is not improbable that other nations may
compel them to fight for their freedom, and if so, they may lose their
virtues and acquire a taste for empire. But at present, though they have
been an imperial race for 2,000 years, their love of empire is
extraordinarily slight.

Although there have been many wars in China, the natural outlook of the
Chinese is very pacifistic. I do not know of any other country where a
poet would have chosen, as Po-Chui did in one of the poems translated by
Mr. Waley, called by him _The Old Man with the Broken Arm_, to make a
hero of a recruit who maimed himself to escape military service. Their
pacifism is rooted in their contemplative outlook, and in the fact that
they do not desire to change whatever they see. They take a pleasure--as
their pictures show--in observing characteristic manifestations of
different kinds of life, and they have no wish to reduce everything to a
preconceived pattern. They have not the ideal of progress which
dominates the Western nations, and affords a rationalization of our
active impulses. Progress is, of course, a very modern ideal even with
us; it is part of what we owe to science and industrialism. The
cultivated conservative Chinese of the present day talk exactly as their
earliest sages write. If one points out to them that this shows how
little progress there has been, they will say: "Why seek progress when
you already enjoy what is excellent?" At first, this point of view seems
to a European unduly indolent; but gradually doubts as to one's own
wisdom grow up, and one begins to think that much of what we call
progress is only restless change, bringing us no nearer to any desirable
goal.

It is interesting to contrast what the Chinese have sought in the West
with what the West has sought in China. The Chinese in the West seek
knowledge, in the hope--which I fear is usually vain--that knowledge may
prove a gateway to wisdom. White men have gone to China with three
motives: to fight, to make money, and to convert the Chinese to our
religion. The last of these motives has the merit of being idealistic,
and has inspired many heroic lives. But the soldier, the merchant, and
the missionary are alike concerned to stamp our civilization upon the
world; they are all three, in a certain sense, pugnacious. The Chinese
have no wish to convert us to Confucianism; they say "religions are
many, but reason is one," and with that they are content to let us go
our way. They are good merchants, but their methods are quite different
from those of European merchants in China, who are perpetually seeking
concessions, monopolies, railways, and mines, and endeavouring to get
their claims supported by gunboats. The Chinese are not, as a rule, good
soldiers, because the causes for which they are asked to fight are not
worth fighting for, and they know it. But that is only a proof of their
reasonableness.

I think the tolerance of the Chinese is in excess of anything that
Europeans can imagine from their experience at home. We imagine
ourselves tolerant, because we are more so than our ancestors. But we
still practise political and social persecution, and what is more, we
are firmly persuaded that our civilization and our way of life are
immeasurably better than any other, so that when we come across a nation
like the Chinese, we are convinced that the kindest thing we can do to
them is to make them like ourselves. I believe this to be a profound
mistake. It seemed to me that the average Chinaman, even if he is
miserably poor, is happier than the average Englishman, and is happier
because the nation is built upon a more humane and civilized outlook
than our own. Restlessness and pugnacity not only cause obvious evils,
but fill our lives with discontent, incapacitate us for the enjoyment of
beauty, and make us almost incapable of the contemplative virtues. In
this respect we have grown rapidly worse during the last hundred years.
I do not deny that the Chinese go too far in the other direction; but
for that very reason I think contact between East and West is likely to
be fruitful to both parties. They may learn from us the indispensable
minimum of practical efficiency, and we may learn from them something of
that contemplative wisdom which has enabled them to persist while all
the other nations of antiquity have perished.

When I went to China, I went to teach; but every day that I stayed I
thought less of what I had to teach them and more of what I had to learn
from them. Among Europeans who had lived a long time in China, I found
this attitude not uncommon; but among those whose stay is short, or who
go only to make money, it is sadly rare. It is rare because the Chinese
do not excel in the things we really value--military prowess and
industrial enterprise. But those who value wisdom or beauty, or even the
simple enjoyment of life, will find more of these things in China than
in the distracted and turbulent West, and will be happy to live where
such things are valued. I wish I could hope that China, in return for
our scientific knowledge, may give us something of her large tolerance
and contemplative peace of mind.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 93: See Cordier, op. cit. i. p. 368, and Giles, op. cit. p.
187.]

[Footnote 94: With regard to Lao-Tze, the book which bears his name is
of doubtful authenticity, and was probably compiled two or three
centuries after his death. Cf. Giles, op. cit., Lecture V.]

[Footnote 95: Quoted in Chap. IV, pp. 82-3.]

Chapter XII

The Chinese Character



There is a theory among Occidentals that the Chinaman is inscrutable,
full of secret thoughts, and impossible for us to understand. It may be
that a greater experience of China would have brought me to share this
opinion; but I could see nothing to support it during the time when I
was working in that country. I talked to the Chinese as I should have
talked to English people, and they answered me much as English people
would have answered a Chinese whom they considered educated and not
wholly unintelligent. I do not believe in the myth of the "Subtle
Oriental": I am convinced that in a game of mutual deception an
Englishman or American can beat a Chinese nine times out of ten. But as
many comparatively poor Chinese have dealings with rich white men, the
game is often played only on one side. Then, no doubt, the white man is
deceived and swindled; but not more than a Chinese mandarin would be in
London.

One of the most remarkable things about the Chinese is their power of
securing the affection of foreigners. Almost all Europeans like China,
both those who come only as tourists and those who live there for many
years. In spite of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance, I can recall hardly a
single Englishman in the Far East who liked the Japanese as well as the
Chinese. Those who have lived long among them tend to acquire their
outlook and their standards. New arrivals are struck by obvious evils:
the beggars, the terrible poverty, the prevalence of disease, the
anarchy and corruption in politics. Every energetic Westerner feels at
first a strong desire to reform these evils, and of course they ought to
be reformed.

But the Chinese, even those who are the victims of preventable
misfortunes, show a vast passive indifference to the excitement of the
foreigners; they wait for it to go off, like the effervescence of
soda-water. And gradually strange hesitations creep into the mind of the
bewildered traveller; after a period of indignation, he begins to doubt
all the maxims he has hitherto accepted without question. Is it really
wise to be always guarding against future misfortune? Is it prudent to
lose all enjoyment of the present through thinking of the disasters that
may come at some future date? Should our lives be passed in building a
mansion that we shall never have leisure to inhabit?

The Chinese answer these questions in the negative, and therefore have
to put up with poverty, disease, and anarchy. But, to compensate for
these evils, they have retained, as industrial nations have not, the
capacity for civilized enjoyment, for leisure and laughter, for pleasure
in sunshine and philosophical discourse. The Chinese, of all classes,
are more laughter-loving than any other race with which I am acquainted;
they find amusement in everything, and a dispute can always be softened
by a joke.

I remember one hot day when a party of us were crossing the hills in
chairs--the way was rough and very steep, the work for the coolies very
severe. At the highest point of our journey, we stopped for ten minutes
to let the men rest. Instantly they all sat in a row, brought out their
pipes, and began to laugh among themselves as if they had not a care in
the world. In any country that had learned the virtue of forethought,
they would have devoted the moments to complaining of the heat, in order
to increase their tip. We, being Europeans, spent the time worrying
whether the automobile would be waiting for us at the right place.
Well-to-do Chinese would have started a discussion as to whether the
universe moves in cycles or progresses by a rectilinear motion; or they
might have set to work to consider whether the truly virtuous man shows
_complete_ self-abnegation, or may, on occasion, consider his own
interest.

One comes across white men occasionally who suffer under the delusion
that China is not a civilized country. Such men have quite forgotten
what constitutes civilization. It is true that there are no trams in
Peking, and that the electric light is poor. It is true that there are
places full of beauty, which Europeans itch to make hideous by digging
up coal. It is true that the educated Chinaman is better at writing
poetry than at remembering the sort of facts which can be looked up in
_Whitaker's Almanac_. A European, in recommending a place of residence,
will tell you that it has a good train service; the best quality he can
conceive in any place is that it should be easy to get away from. But a
Chinaman will tell you nothing about the trains; if you ask, he will
tell you wrong. What he tells you is that there is a palace built by an
ancient emperor, and a retreat in a lake for scholars weary of the
world, founded by a famous poet of the Tang dynasty. It is this outlook
that strikes the Westerner as barbaric.

The Chinese, from the highest to the lowest, have an imperturbable quiet
dignity, which is usually not destroyed even by a European education.
They are not self-assertive, either individually or nationally; their
pride is too profound for self-assertion. They admit China's military
weakness in comparison with foreign Powers, but they do not consider
efficiency in homicide the most important quality in a man or a nation.
I think that, at bottom, they almost all believe that China is the
greatest nation in the world, and has the finest civilization. A
Westerner cannot be expected to accept this view, because it is based on
traditions utterly different from his own. But gradually one comes to
feel that it is, at any rate, not an absurd view; that it is, in fact,
the logical outcome of a self-consistent standard of values. The typical
Westerner wishes to be the cause of as many changes as possible in his
environment; the typical Chinaman wishes to enjoy as much and as
delicately as possible. This difference is at the bottom of most of the
contrast between China and the English-speaking world.

We in the West make a fetish of "progress," which is the ethical
camouflage of the desire to be the cause of changes. If we are asked,
for instance, whether machinery has really improved the world, the
question strikes us as foolish: it has brought great changes and
therefore great "progress." What we believe to be a love of progress is
really, in nine cases out of ten, a love of power, an enjoyment of the
feeling that by our fiat we can make things different. For the sake of
this pleasure, a young American will work so hard that, by the time he
has acquired his millions, he has become a victim of dyspepsia,
compelled to live on toast and water, and to be a mere spectator of the
feasts that he offers to his guests. But he consoles himself with the
thought that he can control politics, and provoke or prevent wars as may
suit his investments. It is this temperament that makes Western nations
"progressive."

There are, of course, ambitious men in China, but they are less common
than among ourselves. And their ambition takes a different form--not a
better form, but one produced by the preference of enjoyment to power.
It is a natural result of this preference that avarice is a widespread
failing of the Chinese. Money brings the means of enjoyment, therefore
money is passionately desired. With us, money is desired chiefly as a
means to power; politicians, who can acquire power without much money,
are often content to remain poor. In China, the _tuchuns_ (military
governors), who have the real power, almost always use it for the sole
purpose of amassing a fortune. Their object is to escape to Japan at a
suitable moment; with sufficient plunder to enable them to enjoy life
quietly for the rest of their days. The fact that in escaping they lose
power does not trouble them in the least. It is, of course, obvious that
such politicians, who spread devastation only in the provinces committed
to their care, are far less harmful to the world than our own, who ruin
whole continents in order to win an election campaign.

The corruption and anarchy in Chinese politics do much less harm than
one would be inclined to expect. But for the predatory desires of the
Great Powers--especially Japan--the harm would be much less than is
done by our own "efficient" Governments. Nine-tenths of the activities
of a modern Government are harmful; therefore the worse they are
performed, the better. In China, where the Government is lazy, corrupt,
and stupid, there is a degree of individual liberty which has been
wholly lost in the rest of the world.

The laws are just as bad as elsewhere; occasionally, under foreign
pressure, a man is imprisoned for Bolshevist propaganda, just as he
might be in England or America. But this is quite exceptional; as a
rule, in practice, there is very little interference with free speech
and a free Press.[96] The individual does not feel obliged to follow the
herd, as he has in Europe since 1914, and in America since 1917. Men
still think for themselves, and are not afraid to announce the
conclusions at which they arrive. Individualism has perished in the
West, but in China it survives, for good as well as for evil.
Self-respect and personal dignity are possible for every coolie in
China, to a degree which is, among ourselves, possible only for a few
leading financiers.

The business of "saving face," which often strikes foreigners in China
as ludicrous, is only the carrying-out of respect for personal dignity
in the sphere of social manners. Everybody has "face," even the humblest
beggar; there are humiliations that you must not inflict upon him, if
you are not to outrage the Chinese ethical code. If you speak to a
Chinaman in a way that transgresses the code, he will laugh, because
your words must be taken as spoken in jest if they are not to constitute
an offence.

Once I thought that the students to whom I was lecturing were not as
industrious as they might be, and I told them so in just the same words
that I should have used to English students in the same circumstances.
But I soon found I was making a mistake. They all laughed uneasily,
which surprised me until I saw the reason. Chinese life, even among the
most modernized, is far more polite than anything to which we are
accustomed. This, of course, interferes with efficiency, and also (what
is more serious) with sincerity and truth in personal relations. If I
were Chinese, I should wish to see it mitigated. But to those who suffer
from the brutalities of the West, Chinese urbanity is very restful.
Whether on the balance it is better or worse than our frankness, I shall
not venture to decide.

The Chinese remind one of the English in their love of compromise and in
their habit of bowing to public opinion. Seldom is a conflict pushed to
its ultimate brutal issue. The treatment of the Manchu Emperor may be
taken as a case in point. When a Western country becomes a Republic, it
is customary to cut off the head of the deposed monarch, or at least to
cause him to fly the country. But the Chinese have left the Emperor his
title, his beautiful palace, his troops of eunuchs, and an income of
several million dollars a year. He is a boy of sixteen, living peaceably
in the Forbidden City. Once, in the course of a civil war, he was
nominally restored to power for a few days; but he was deposed again,
without being in any way punished for the use to which he had been put.

Public opinion is a very real force in China, when it can be roused. It
was, by all accounts, mainly responsible for the downfall of the An Fu
party in the summer of 1920. This party was pro-Japanese and was
accepting loans from Japan. Hatred of Japan is the strongest and most
widespread of political passions in China, and it was stirred up by the
students in fiery orations. The An Fu party had, at first, a great
preponderance of military strength; but their soldiers melted away when
they came to understand the cause for which they were expected to fight.
In the end, the opponents of the An Fu party were able to enter Peking
and change the Government almost without firing a shot.

The same influence of public opinion was decisive in the teachers'
strike, which was on the point of being settled when I left Peking. The
Government, which is always impecunious, owing to corruption, had left
its teachers unpaid for many months. At last they struck to enforce
payment, and went on a peaceful deputation to the Government,
accompanied by many students. There was a clash with the soldiers and
police, and many teachers and students were more or less severely
wounded. This led to a terrific outcry, because the love of education in
China is profound and widespread. The newspapers clamoured for
revolution. The Government had just spent nine million dollars in
corrupt payments to three Tuchuns who had descended upon the capital to
extort blackmail. It could not find any colourable pretext for refusing
the few hundred thousands required by the teachers, and it capitulated
in panic. I do not think there is any Anglo-Saxon country where the
interests of teachers would have roused the same degree of public
feeling.

Nothing astonishes a European more in the Chinese than their patience.
The educated Chinese are well aware of the foreign menace. They realize
acutely what the Japanese have done in Manchuria and Shantung. They are
aware that the English in Hong-Kong are doing their utmost to bring to
naught the Canton attempt to introduce good government in the South.
They know that all the Great Powers, without exception, look with greedy
eyes upon the undeveloped resources of their country, especially its
coal and iron. They have before them the example of Japan, which, by
developing a brutal militarism, a cast-iron discipline, and a new
reactionary religion, has succeeded in holding at bay the fierce lusts
of "civilized" industrialists. Yet they neither copy Japan nor submit
tamely to foreign domination. They think not in decades, but in
centuries. They have been conquered before, first by the Tartars and
then by the Manchus; but in both cases they absorbed their conquerors.
Chinese civilization persisted, unchanged; and after a few generations
the invaders became more Chinese than their subjects.

Manchuria is a rather empty country, with abundant room for
colonization. The Japanese assert that they need colonies for their
surplus population, yet the Chinese immigrants into Manchuria exceed the
Japanese a hundredfold. Whatever may be the temporary political status
of Manchuria, it will remain a part of Chinese civilization, and can be
recovered whenever Japan happens to be in difficulties. The Chinese
derive such strength from their four hundred millions, the toughness of
their national customs, their power of passive resistance, and their
unrivalled national cohesiveness--in spite of the civil wars, which
merely ruffle the surface--that they can afford to despise military
methods, and to wait till the feverish energy of their oppressors shall
have exhausted itself in internecine combats.

China is much less a political entity than a civilization--the only one
that has survived from ancient times. Since the days of Confucius, the
Egyptian, Babylonian, Persian, Macedonian, and Roman Empires have
perished; but China has persisted through a continuous evolution. There
have been foreign influences--first Buddhism, and now Western science.
But Buddhism did not turn the Chinese into Indians, and Western science
will not turn them into Europeans. I have met men in China who knew as
much of Western learning as any professor among ourselves; yet they had
not been thrown off their balance, or lost touch with their own people.
What is bad in the West--its brutality, its restlessness, its readiness
to oppress the weak, its preoccupation with purely material aims--they
see to be bad, and do not wish to adopt. What is good, especially its
science, they do wish to adopt.

The old indigenous culture of China has become rather dead; its art and
literature are not what they were, and Confucius does not satisfy the
spiritual needs of a modern man, even if he is Chinese. The Chinese who
have had a European or American education realize that a new element, is
needed to vitalize native traditions, and they look to our civilization
to supply it. But they do not wish to construct a civilization just like
ours; and it is precisely in this that the best hope lies. If they are
not goaded into militarism, they may produce a genuinely new
civilization, better than any that we in the West have been able to
create.

So far, I have spoken chiefly of the good sides of the Chinese
character; but of course China, like every other nation, has its bad
sides also. It is disagreeable to me to speak of these, as I experienced
so much courtesy and real kindness from the Chinese, that I should
prefer to say only nice things about them. But for the sake of China, as
well as for the sake of truth, it would be a mistake to conceal what is
less admirable. I will only ask the reader to remember that, on the
balance, I think the Chinese one of the best nations I have come across,
and am prepared to draw up a graver indictment against every one of the
Great Powers. Shortly before I left China, an eminent Chinese writer
pressed me to say what I considered the chief defects of the Chinese.
With some reluctance, I mentioned three: avarice, cowardice and
callousness. Strange to say, my interlocutor, instead of getting angry,
admitted the justice of my criticism, and proceeded to discuss possible
remedies. This is a sample of the intellectual integrity which is one of
China's greatest virtues.

The callousness of the Chinese is bound to strike every Anglo-Saxon.
They have none of that humanitarian impulse which leads us to devote one
per cent. of our energy to mitigating the evils wrought by the other
ninety-nine per cent. For instance, we have been forbidding the
Austrians to join with Germany, to emigrate, or to obtain the raw
materials of industry. Therefore the Viennese have starved, except those
whom it has pleased us to keep alive from philanthropy. The Chinese
would not have had the energy to starve the Viennese, or the
philanthropy to keep some of them alive. While I was in China, millions
were dying of famine; men sold their children into slavery for a few
dollars, and killed them if this sum was unobtainable. Much was done by
white men to relieve the famine, but very little by the Chinese, and
that little vitiated by corruption. It must be said, however, that the
efforts of the white men were more effective in soothing their own
consciences than in helping the Chinese. So long as the present
birth-rate and the present methods of agriculture persist, famines are
bound to occur periodically; and those whom philanthropy keeps alive
through one famine are only too likely to perish in the next.

Famines in China can be permanently cured only by better methods of
agriculture combined with emigration or birth-control on a large scale.
Educated Chinese realize this, and it makes them indifferent to efforts
to keep the present victims alive. A great deal of Chinese callousness
has a similar explanation, and is due to perception of the vastness of
the problems involved. But there remains a residue which cannot be so
explained. If a dog is run over by an automobile and seriously hurt,
nine out of ten passers-by will stop to laugh at the poor brute's howls.
The spectacle of suffering does not of itself rouse any sympathetic pain
in the average Chinaman; in fact, he seems to find it mildly agreeable.
Their history, and their penal code before the revolution of 1911, show
that they are by no means destitute of the impulse of active cruelty;
but of this I did not myself come across any instances. And it must be
said that active cruelty is practised by all the great nations, to an
extent concealed from us only by our hypocrisy.

Cowardice is prima facie a fault of the Chinese; but I am not sure that
they are really lacking in courage. It is true that, in battles between
rival tuchuns, both sides run away, and victory rests with the side that
first discovers the flight of the other. But this proves only that the
Chinese soldier is a rational man. No cause of any importance is
involved, and the armies consist of mere mercenaries. When there is a
serious issue, as, for instance, in the Tai-Ping rebellion, the Chinese
are said to fight well, particularly if they have good officers.
Nevertheless, I do not think that, in comparison with the Anglo-Saxons,
the French, or the Germans, the Chinese can be considered a courageous
people, except in the matter of passive endurance. They will endure
torture, and even death, for motives which men of more pugnacious races
would find insufficient--for example, to conceal the hiding-place of
stolen plunder. In spite of their comparative lack of _active_ courage,
they have less fear of death than we have, as is shown by their
readiness to commit suicide.

Avarice is, I should say, the gravest defect of the Chinese. Life is
hard, and money is not easily obtained. For the sake of money, all
except a very few foreign-educated Chinese will be guilty of corruption.
For the sake of a few pence, almost any coolie will run an imminent risk
of death. The difficulty of combating Japan has arisen mainly from the
fact that hardly any Chinese politician can resist Japanese bribes. I
think this defect is probably due to the fact that, for many ages, an
honest living has been hard to get; in which case it will be lessened as
economic conditions improve. I doubt if it is any worse now in China
than it was in Europe in the eighteenth century. I have not heard of any
Chinese general more corrupt than Marlborough, or of any politician more
corrupt than Cardinal Dubois. It is, therefore, quite likely that
changed industrial conditions will make the Chinese as honest as we
are--which is not saying much.

I have been speaking of the Chinese as they are in ordinary life, when
they appear as men of active and sceptical intelligence, but of somewhat
sluggish passions. There is, however, another side to them: they are
capable of wild excitement, often of a collective kind. I saw little of
this myself, but there can be no doubt of the fact. The Boxer rising was
a case in point, and one which particularly affected Europeans. But
their history is full of more or less analogous disturbances. It is this
element in their character that makes them incalculable, and makes it
impossible even to guess at their future. One can imagine a section of
them becoming fanatically Bolshevist, or anti-Japanese, or Christian, or
devoted to some leader who would ultimately declare himself Emperor. I
suppose it is this element in their character that makes them, in spite
of their habitual caution, the most reckless gamblers in the world. And
many emperors have lost their thrones through the force of romantic
love, although romantic love is far more despised than it is in the
West.

To sum up the Chinese character is not easy. Much of what strikes the
foreigner is due merely to the fact that they have preserved an ancient
civilization which is not industrial. All this is likely to pass away,
under the pressure of the Japanese, and of European and American
financiers. Their art is already perishing, and being replaced by crude
imitations of second-rate European pictures. Most of the Chinese who
have had a European education are quite incapable of seeing any beauty
in native painting, and merely observe contemptuously that it does not
obey the laws of perspective.

The obvious charm which the tourist finds in China cannot be preserved;
it must perish at the touch of industrialism. But perhaps something may
be preserved, something of the ethical qualities in which China is
supreme, and which the modern world most desperately needs. Among these
qualities I place first the pacific temper, which seeks to settle
disputes on grounds of justice rather than by force. It remains to be
seen whether the West will allow this temper to persist, or will force
it to give place, in self-defence, to a frantic militarism like that to
which Japan has been driven.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 96: This vexes the foreigners, who are attempting to establish
a very severe Press censorship in Shanghai. See "The Shanghai Printed
Matter Bye-Law." Hollington K. Tong, _Review of the Far East,_ April 16,
1922.]

Chapter XIII

Higher Education in China



China, like Italy and Greece, is frequently misjudged by persons of
culture because they regard it as a museum. The preservation of ancient
beauty is very important, but no vigorous forward-looking man is content
to be a mere curator. The result is that the best people in China tend
to be Philistines as regards all that is pleasing to the European
tourist. The European in China, quite apart from interested motives, is
apt to be ultra-conservative, because he likes everything distinctive
and non-European. But this is the attitude of an outsider, of one who
regards China as a country to be looked at rather than lived in, as a
country with a past rather than a future. Patriotic Chinese naturally do
not view their country in this way; they wish their country to acquire
what is best in the modern world, not merely to remain an interesting
survival of a by-gone age, like Oxford or the Yellowstone Park. As the
first step to this end, they do all they can to promote higher
education, and to increase the number of Chinese who can use and
appreciate Western knowledge without being the slaves of Western
follies. What is being done in this direction is very interesting, and
one of the most hopeful things happening in our not very cheerful epoch.

There is first the old traditional curriculum, the learning by rote of
the classics without explanation in early youth, followed by a more
intelligent study in later years. This is exactly like the traditional
study of the classics in this country, as it existed, for example, in
the eighteenth century. Men over thirty, even if, in the end, they have
secured a thoroughly modern education, have almost all begun by learning
reading and writing in old-fashioned schools. Such schools still form
the majority, and give most of the elementary education that is given.
Every child has to learn by heart every day some portion of the
classical text, and repeat it out loud in class. As they all repeat at
the same time, the din is deafening. (In Peking I lived next to one of
these schools, so I can speak from experience.) The number of people who
are taught to read by these methods is considerable; in the large towns
one finds that even coolies can read as often as not. But writing (which
is very difficult in Chinese) is a much rarer accomplishment. Probably
those who can both read and write form about five per cent, of the
population.

The establishment of normal schools for the training of teachers on
modern lines, which grew out of the edict of 1905 abolishing the old
examination system and proclaiming the need of educational reform, has
done much, and will do much more, to transform and extend elementary
education. The following statistics showing the increase in the number
of schools, teachers, and students in China are taken from Mr. Tyau's
_China Awakened_, p. 4:--

                         1910        1914       1917       1919

Number of Schools       42,444     59,796    128,048    134,000
Number of Teachers     185,566    200,000    326,417    326,000
Number of Students   1,625,534  3,849,554  4,269,197  4,500,000

Considering that the years concerned are years of revolution and civil
war, it must be admitted that the progress shown by these figures is
very remarkable.

There are schemes for universal elementary education, but so far, owing
to the disturbed condition of the country and the lack of funds, it has
been impossible to carry them out except in a few places on a small
scale. They would, however, be soon carried out if there were a stable
government.

The traditional classical education was, of course, not intended to be
only elementary. The amount of Chinese literature is enormous, and the
older texts are extremely difficult to understand. There is scope,
within the tradition, for all the industry and erudition of the finest
renaissance scholars. Learning of this sort has been respected in China
for many ages. One meets old scholars of this type, to whose opinions,
even in politics, it is customary to defer, although they have the
innocence and unworldliness of the old-fashioned don. They remind one
almost of the men whom Lamb describes in his essay on Oxford in the
Vacation--learned, lovable, and sincere, but utterly lost in the modern
world, basing their opinions of Socialism, for example, on what some
eleventh-century philosopher said about it. The arguments for and
against the type of higher education that they represent are exactly the
same as those for and against a classical education in Europe, and one
is driven to the same conclusion in both cases: that the existence of
specialists having this type of knowledge is highly desirable, but that
the ordinary curriculum for the average educated person should take more
account of modern needs, and give more instruction in science, modern
languages, and contemporary international relations. This is the view,
so far as I could discover, of all reforming educationists in China.

The second kind of higher education in China is that initiated by the
missionaries, and now almost entirely in the hands of the Americans. As
everyone knows, America's position in Chinese education was acquired
through the Boxer indemnity. Most of the Powers, at that time, if their
own account is to be believed, demanded a sum representing only actual
loss and damage, but the Americans, according to their critics, demanded
(and obtained) a vastly larger sum, of which they generously devoted the
surplus to educating Chinese students, both in China and at American
universities. This course of action has abundantly justified itself,
both politically and commercially; a larger and larger number of posts
in China go to men who have come under American influence, and who have
come to believe that America is the one true friend of China among the
Great Powers.

One may take as typical of American work three institutions of which I
saw a certain amount: Tsing-Hua College (about ten miles from Peking),
the Peking Union Medical College (connected with the Rockefeller
Hospital), and the so-called Peking University.

Tsing-Hua College, delightfully situated at the foot of the Western
hills, with a number of fine solid buildings,[97] in a good American
style, owes its existence entirely to the Boxer indemnity money. It has
an atmosphere exactly like that of a small American university, and a
(Chinese) President who is an almost perfect reproduction of the
American College President. The teachers are partly American, partly
Chinese educated in America, and there tends to be more and more of the
latter. As one enters the gates, one becomes aware of the presence of
every virtue usually absent in China: cleanliness, punctuality,
exactitude, efficiency. I had not much opportunity to judge of the
teaching, but whatever I saw made me think that the institution was
thorough and good. One great merit, which belongs to American
institutions generally, is that the students are made to learn English.
Chinese differs so profoundly from European languages that even with the
most skilful translations a student who knows only Chinese cannot
understand European ideas; therefore the learning of some European
language is essential, and English is far the most familiar and useful
throughout the Far East.

The students at Tsing-Hua College learn mathematics and science and
philosophy, and broadly speaking, the more elementary parts of what is
commonly taught in universities. Many of the best of them go afterwards
to America, where they take a Doctor's degree. On returning to China
they become teachers or civil servants. Undoubtedly they contribute
greatly to the improvement of their country in efficiency and honesty
and technical intelligence.

The Rockefeller Hospital is a large, conspicuous building, representing
an interesting attempt to combine something of Chinese beauty with
European utilitarian requirements. The green roofs are quite Chinese,
but the walls and windows are European. The attempt is praiseworthy,
though perhaps not wholly successful. The hospital has all the most
modern scientific apparatus, but, with the monopolistic tendency of the
Standard Oil Company, it refuses to let its apparatus be of use to
anyone not connected with the hospital. The Peking Union Medical College
teaches many things besides medicine--English literature, for
example--and apparently teaches them well. They are necessary in order
to produce Chinese physicians and surgeons who will reach the European
level, because a good knowledge of some European language is necessary
for medicine as for other kinds of European learning. And a sound
knowledge of scientific medicine is, of course, of immense importance to
China, where there is no sort of sanitation and epidemics are frequent.

The so-called Peking University is an example of what the Chinese have
to suffer on account of extra-territoriality. The Chinese Government (so
at least I was told) had already established a university in Peking,
fully equipped and staffed, and known as the Peking University. But the
Methodist missionaries decided to give the name "Peking University" to
their schools, so the already existing university had to alter its name
to "Government University." The case is exactly as if a collection of
old-fashioned Chinamen had established themselves in London to teach the
doctrine of Confucius, and had been able to force London University to
abandon its name to them. However, I do not wish to raise the question
of extra-territoriality, the more so as I do not think it can be
abandoned for some years to come, in spite of the abuses to which it
sometimes gives rise.

Returned students (_i.e._ students who have been at foreign
universities) form a definite set in China.[98] There is in Peking a
"Returned Students' Club," a charming place. It is customary among
Europeans to speak ill of returned students, but for no good reason.
There are occasionally disagreements between different sections; in
particular, those who have been only to Japan are not regarded quite as
equals by those who have been to Europe or America. My impression was
that America puts a more definite stamp upon a student than any other
country; certainly those returning from England are less Anglicized than
those returning from the United States are Americanized. To the Chinaman
who wishes to be modern and up-to-date, skyscrapers and hustle seem
romantic, because they are so unlike his home. The old traditions which
conservative Europeans value are such a mushroom growth compared to
those of China (where authentic descendants of Confucius abound) that it
is useless to attempt that way of impressing the Chinese. One is
reminded of the conversation in _Eothen_ between the English country
gentleman and the Pasha, in which the Pasha praises England to the
refrain: "Buzz, buzz, all by steam; whir, whir, all on wheels," while
the Englishman keeps saying: "Tell the Pasha that the British yeoman is
still, thank God, the British yeoman."

Although the educational work of the Americans in China is on the whole
admirable, nothing directed by foreigners can adequately satisfy the
needs of the country. The Chinese have a civilization and a national
temperament in many ways superior to those of white men. A few Europeans
ultimately discover this, but Americans never do. They remain always
missionaries--not of Christianity, though they often think that is what
they are preaching, but of Americanism. What is Americanism? "Clean
living, clean thinking, and pep," I think an American would reply. This
means, in practice, the substitution of tidiness for art, cleanliness
for beauty, moralizing for philosophy, prostitutes for concubines (as
being easier to conceal), and a general air of being fearfully busy for
the leisurely calm of the traditional Chinese. Voltaire--that hardened
old cynic--laid it down that the true ends of life are "_aimer et
penser_." Both are common in China, but neither is compatible with
"pep." The American influence, therefore, inevitably tends to eliminate
both. If it prevailed it would, no doubt, by means of hygiene, save the
lives of many Chinamen, but would at the same time make them not worth
saving. It cannot therefore be regarded as wholly and altogether
satisfactory.

The best Chinese educationists are aware of this, and have established
schools and universities which are modern but under Chinese direction.
In these, a certain proportion of the teachers are European or
American, but the spirit of the teaching is not that of the Y.M.C.A. One
can never rid oneself of the feeling that the education controlled by
white men is not disinterested; it seems always designed, unconsciously
in the main, to produce convenient tools for the capitalist penetration
of China by the merchants and manufacturers of the nation concerned.
Modern Chinese schools and universities are singularly different: they
are not hotbeds of rabid nationalism as they would be in any other
country, but institutions where the student is taught to think freely,
and his thoughts are judged by their intelligence, not by their utility
to exploiters. The outcome, among the best young men, is a really
beautiful intellectual disinterestedness. The discussions which I used
to have in my seminar (consisting of students belonging to the Peking
Government University) could not have been surpassed anywhere for
keenness, candour, and fearlessness. I had the same impression of the
Science Society of Nanking, and of all similar bodies wherever I came
across them. There is, among the young, a passionate desire to acquire
Western knowledge, together with a vivid realization of Western vices.
They wish to be scientific but not mechanical, industrial but not
capitalistic. To a man they are Socialists, as are most of the best
among their Chinese teachers. They respect the knowledge of Europeans,
but quietly put aside their arrogance. For the present, the purely
Chinese modern educational institutions, such as the Peking Government
University, leave much to be desired from the point of view of
instruction; there are no adequate libraries, the teaching of English is
not sufficiently thorough, and there is not enough mental discipline.
But these are the faults of youth, and are unimportant compared with the
profoundly humanistic attitude to life which is formed in the students.
Most of the faults may be traced to the lack of funds, because the
Government--loved by the Powers on account of its weakness--has to part
with all its funds to the military chieftains who fight each other and
plunder the country, as in Europe--for China must be compared with
Europe, not with any one of the petty States into which Europe is
unhappily divided.

The students are not only full of public spirit themselves, but are a
powerful force in arousing it throughout the nation. What they did in
1919, when Versailles awarded Shangtung to Japan, is well told by Mr.
Tyau in his chapter on "The Student Movement." And what they did was not
merely political. To quote Mr. Tyau (p. 146):--

     Having aroused the nation, prevented the signature of the
     Versailles Treaty and assisted the merchants to enforce the
     Japanese boycott, the students then directed their energies to
     the enlightenment of their less educated brothers and sisters.
     For instance, by issuing publications, by popular lectures
     showing them the real situation, internally as well as
     externally; but especially by establishing free schools and
     maintaining them out of their own funds. No praise can be too
     high for such self-sacrifice, for the students generally also
     teach in these schools. The scheme is endorsed everywhere with
     the greatest enthusiasm, and in Peking alone it is estimated that
     fifty thousand children are benefited by such education.

One thing which came as a surprise to me was to find that, as regards
modern education under Chinese control, there is complete equality
between men and women. The position of women in Peking Government
University is better than at Cambridge. Women are admitted to
examinations and degrees, and there are women teachers in the
university. The Girls' Higher Normal School in Peking, where prospective
women teachers are taught, is a most excellent and progressive
institution, and the spirit of free inquiry among the girls would
horrify most British head mistresses.

There is a movement in favour of co-education, especially in elementary
education, because, owing to the inadequate supply of schools, the girls
tend to be left out altogether unless they can go to the same school as
the boys. The first time I met Professor and Mrs. Dewey was at a banquet
in Chang-sha, given by the Tuchun. When the time came for after-dinner
speeches, Mrs. Dewey told the Tuchun that his province must adopt
co-education. He made a statesmanlike reply, saying that the matter
should receive his best consideration, but he feared the time was not
ripe in Hunan. However, it was clear that the matter was within the
sphere of practical politics. At the time, being new to China and having
imagined China a somewhat backward country, I was surprised. Later on I
realized that reforms which we only talk about can be actually carried
out in China.

Education controlled by missionaries or conservative white men cannot
give what Young China needs. After throwing off the native superstitions
of centuries, it would be a dismal fiasco to take on the European
superstitions which have been discarded here by all progressive people.
It is only where progressive Chinese themselves are in control that
there is scope for the renaissance spirit of the younger students, and
for that free spirit of sceptical inquiry by which they are seeking to
build a new civilization as splendid as their old civilization in its
best days.

While I was in Peking, the Government teachers struck, not for higher
pay, but for pay, because their salaries had not been paid for many
months. Accompanied by some of the students, they went on a deputation
to the Government, but were repulsed by soldiers and policemen, who
clubbed them so severely that many had to be taken to hospital. The
incident produced such universal fury that there was nearly a
revolution, and the Government hastened to come to terms with the
teachers with all possible speed. The modern teachers have behind them
all that is virile, energetic, and public-spirited in China; the gang of
bandits which controls the Government has behind it Japanese money and
European intrigue. America occupies an intermediate position. One may
say broadly that the old traditional education, with the military
governors and the British and Japanese influence, stands for
Conservatism; America and its commerce and its educational institutions
stand for Liberalism; while the native modern education, practically
though not theoretically, stands for Socialism. Incidentally, it alone
stands for intellectual freedom.

The Chinese are a great nation, incapable of permanent suppression by
foreigners. They will not consent to adopt our vices in order to acquire
military strength; but they are willing to adopt our virtues in order to
advance in wisdom. I think they are the only people in the world who
quite genuinely believe that wisdom is more precious than rubies. That
is why the West regards them as uncivilized.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 97: It should be said that one sees just as fine buildings in
purely Chinese institutions, such as Peking Government University and
Nanking Teachers' Training College.]

[Footnote 98: Mr. Tyau (op. cit. p. 27) quotes from _Who's Who of
American Returned Students_, a classification of the occupations of 596
Chinese who have returned from American universities. The larger items
are: In education, 38 as administrators and 197 as teachers; in
Government service, 129 in executive offices (there are also three
members of Parliament and four judges); 95 engineers; 35 medical
practitioners (including dentists); 60 in business; and 21 social and
religious workers. It is estimated that the total number of Chinese
holding university degrees in America is 1,700, and in Great Britain 400
_(ib.)._ This disproportion is due to the more liberal policy of America
in the matter of the Boxer indemnity. In 1916 there were 292 Chinese
university students in Great Britain, and Mr. Tyau (p. 28) gives a
classification of them by their subjects. The larger groups are:
Medicine, 50; law and economics, 47; engineering, 42; mining, 22;
natural science (including chemistry and geology, which are classified
separately), 19.]

Chapter XIV

Industrialism in China



China is as yet only slightly industrialized, but the industrial
possibilities of the country are very great, and it may be taken as
nearly certain that there will be a rapid development throughout the
next few decades. China's future depends as much upon the manner of this
development as upon any other single factor; and China's difficulties
are very largely connected with the present industrial situation. I will
therefore first briefly describe this situation, and then consider the
possibilities of the near future.

We may take railways and mines as the foundation of a nation's
industrial life. Let us therefore consider first the railways and then
the mines, before going on to other matters.

When railways were new, the Manchu Government, like the universities of
Oxford and Cambridge (which it resembled in many ways), objected to
them, and did all it could to keep them at a distance.[99] In 1875 a
short line was built by foreigners from Shanghai to Woosung, but the
Central Government was so shocked that it caused it to be destroyed. In
1881 the first permanent railway was constructed, but not very much was
accomplished until after the Japanese War of 1894-5. The Powers then
thought that China was breaking up, and entered upon a scramble for
concessions and spheres of influence. The Belgians built the important
line from Peking to Hankow; the Americans obtained a concession for a
Hankow-Canton railway, which, however, has only been constructed as far
as Changsha. Russia built the Manchurian Railway, connecting Peking with
the Siberian Railway and with Europe. Germany built the Shantung
Railway, from Tsingtau to Tsinanfu. The French built a railway in the
south. England sought to obtain a monopoly of the railways in the
Yangtze valley. All these railways were to be owned by foreigners and
managed by foreign officials of the respective countries which had
obtained the concessions. The Boxer rising, however, made Europe aware
that some caution was needed if the Chinese were not to be exasperated
beyond endurance. After this, ownership of new railways was left to the
Chinese Government, but with so much foreign control as to rob it of
most of its value. By this time, Chinese public opinion had come to
realize that there must be railways in China, and that the real problem
was how to keep them under Chinese control. In 1908, the Tientsin-Pukow
line and the Shanghai-Hangchow line were sanctioned, to be built by the
help of foreign loans, but with all the administrative control in the
hands of the Chinese Government. At the same time, the Peking-Hankow
line was bought back by the Government, and the Peking-Kalgan line was
constructed by the Chinese without foreign financial assistance. Of the
big main lines of China, this left not much foreign control outside the
Manchurian Railway (Chinese Eastern Railway) and the Shantung Railway.
The first of these is mainly under foreign control and must now be
regarded as permanently lost, until such time as China becomes strong
enough to defeat Japan in war; and the whole of Manchuria has come more
or less under Japanese control. But the Shantung Railway, by the
agreement reached at Washington, is to be bought back by China--five
years hence, if all goes well. Thus, except in regions practically lost
to China, the Chinese now have control of all their more important
railways, or will have before long. This is a very hopeful feature of
the situation, and a distinct credit to Chinese sagacity.

Putnam Weale (Mr. Lennox Simpson) strongly urges--quite rightly, as I
think--the great importance of nationalizing _all_ Chinese railways. At
Washington recently, he helped to secure the Shantung Railway award, and
to concentrate attention on the railway as the main issue. Writing early
in 1919, he said[100]:--

     _The key to the proper control of China and the building-up of
     the new Republican State is the railway key_.... The revolution
     of 1911, and the acceptance in principle of Western ideas of
     popular government, removed the danger of foreign provinces being
     carved out of the old Manchu Empire. There was, however, left
     behind a more subtle weapon. _This weapon is the railway_. Russia
     with her Manchurian Railway scheme taught Japan the new method.
     Japan, by the Treaty of Portsmouth in 1905, not only inherited
     the richer half of the Manchurian railways, but was able to put
     into practice a new technique, based on a mixture of twisted
     economics, police control, and military garrisons. Out of this
     grew the latter-day highly developed railway-zone which, to all
     intents and purposes, creates a new type of foreign _enclave_,
     subversive of the Chinese State. _The especial evil to-day is
     that Japan has transferred from Manchuria to Shantung this new
     technique,_ which ... she will eventually extend into the very
     heart of intramural China ... and also into extramural Chihli and
     Inner Mongolia (thus outflanking Peking) unless she is summarily
     arrested. _At all costs this must be stopped._ The method of
     doing so is easy: _It is to have it laid down categorically, and
     accepted by all the Powers, that henceforth all railways on
     Chinese soil are a vital portion of Chinese sovereignty and must
     be controlled directly from Peking by a National Railway Board;
     that stationmasters, personnel and police, must be Chinese
     citizens, technical foreign help being limited to a set standard;
     and that all railway concessions are henceforth to be considered
     simply as building concessions which must be handed over, section
     by section, as they are built, to the National Railway Board_.

If the Shantung Railway Agreement is loyally carried out, this
reform--as to whose importance I quite agree with Putnam Weale--will
have been practically completed five years hence. But we must expect
Japan to adopt every possible means of avoiding the carrying out of her
promises, from instigating Chinese civil war to the murdering of
Japanese employees by Japanese secret agents masquerading as Chinese.
Therefore, until the Chinese actually have complete control of the
Shantung Railway, we cannot feel confident that they will ever get it.

It must not be supposed that the Chinese run railways badly. The Kalgan
Railway, which they built, is just as well built as those constructed by
foreigners; and the lines under Chinese administration are admirably
managed. I quote from Mr. Tyau[101] the following statistics, which
refer to the year 1919: Government railways, in operation, 6027
kilometres; under construction, 383 kilometres; private and provincial
railways, 773 kilometres; concessioned railways, 3,780 kilometres.
Total, 10,963 kilometres, or 6,852 miles. (The concessioned railways are
mainly those in Manchuria and Shantung, of which the first must be
regarded as definitely lost to China, while the second is probably
recovered. The problem of concessioned railways has therefore no longer
the importance that it had, though, by detaching Manchuria, the foreign
railway has shown its power for evil). As regards financial results, Mr.
Tyau gives the following figures for the principal State railways in
1918:--

Name of Line.    Kilometres    Year        Per cent, earned
                 Operated.     Completed.  on Investment.

Peking-Mukden      987          1897          22.7
Peking-Hankow     1306          1905          15.8
Shanghai-Nanking   327          1908           6.2
Tientsin-Pukow    1107          1912           6.2
Peking-Suiyuan     490          1915           5.6

Subsequent years, for which I have not the exact figures, have been less
prosperous.

I cannot discover any evidence of incompetence in Chinese railway
administration. On the contrary, much has been done to overcome the
evils due to the fact that the various lines were originally constructed
by different Powers, each following its own customs, so that there was
no uniformity, and goods trucks could not be moved from one line on to
another. There is, however, urgent need of further railways, especially
to open up the west and to connect Canton with Hankow, the profit of
which would probably be enormous.

Mines are perhaps as important as railways, for if a country allows
foreign control of its mineral resources it cannot build up either its
industries or its munitions to the point where they will be independent
of foreign favour. But the situation as regards mining is at present far
from satisfactory. Mr. Julean Arnold, American Commercial Attaché at
Peking, writing early in 1919, made the following statement as regards
China's mineral resources:--

     China is favoured with a wonderful wealth in coal and in a good
     supply of iron ore, two essentials to modern industrial
     development. To indicate how little China has developed its
     marvellous wealth in coal, this country imported, during 1917,
     14,000,000 tons. It is estimated that China produces now
     20,000,000 tons annually, but it is supposed to have richer
     resources in coal than has the United States which, in 1918,
     produced 650,000,000 tons. In iron ore it has been estimated that
     China has 400,000,000 tons suitable for furnace reaction, and an
     additional 300,000,000 tons which might be worked by native
     methods. During 1917, it is estimated that China's production of
     pig iron was 500,000 tons. The developments in the iron and steel
     industry in China are making rapid strides, and a few years hence
     it is expected that the production of pig iron and of finished
     steel will be several millions of tons annually.... In antimony
     and tin China is also particularly rich, and considerable
     progress has taken place in the mining and smelting of these ores
     during the past few years. China should jealously safeguard its
     mineral wealth, so as to preserve it for the country's
     welfare.[102]

The _China Year Book_ for 1919 gives the total Chinese production of
coal for 1914 as 6,315,735 tons, and of iron ore at 468,938 tons.[103]
Comparing these with Mr. Arnold's figures for 1917, namely 20,000,000
tons of coal and 500,000 tons of pig iron (not iron ore), it is evident
that great progress was made during those three years, and there is
every reason to think that at least the same rate of progress has been
maintained. The main problem for China, however, is not _rapid_
development, but _national_ development. Japan is poor in minerals, and
has set to work to acquire as much as possible of the mineral wealth of
China. This is important to Japan, for two different reasons: first,
that only industrial development can support the growing population,
which cannot be induced to emigrate to Japanese possessions on the
mainland; secondly, that steel is an indispensable requisite for
imperialism.

The Chinese are proud of the Kiangnan dock and engineering works at
Shanghai, which is a Government concern, and has proved its capacity for
shipbuilding on modern lines. It built four ships of 10,000 tons each
for the American Government. Mr. S.G. Cheng[104] says:--

     For the construction of these ships, materials were mostly
     supplied by China, except steel, which had to be shipped from
     America and Europe (the steel produced in China being so limited
     in quantity, that after a certain amount is exported to Japan by
     virtue of a previous contract, little is left for home
     consumption).

Considering how rich China is in iron ore, this state of affairs needs
explanation. The explanation is valuable to anyone who wishes to
understand modern politics.

The _China Year Book_ for 1919[105] (a work as little concerned with
politics as _Whitaker's Almanack_) gives a list of the five principal
iron mines in China, with some information about each. The first and
most important are the Tayeh mines, worked by the Hanyehping Iron and
Coal Co., Ltd., which, as the reader may remember, was the subject of
the third group in the Twenty-one Demands. The total amount of ore in
sight is estimated by the _China Year Book_ at 50,000,000 tons, derived
chiefly from two mines, in one of which the ore yields 65 per cent. of
iron, in the other 58 to 63 per cent. The output for 1916 is given as
603,732 tons (it has been greatly increased since then). The _Year Book_
proceeds: "Japanese capital is invested in the Company, and by the
agreement between China and Japan of May 1915 [after the ultimatum which
enforced the revised Twenty-one Demands], the Chinese Government
undertook not to convert the Company into a State-owned concern nor to
compel it to borrow money from other than Japanese sources." It should
be added that there is a Japanese accountant and a Japanese technical
adviser, and that pig-iron and ore, up to a specified value, must be
sold to the Imperial Japanese works at much below the market price,
leaving a paltry residue for sale in the open market.[106]

The second item in the _China Year Book's_ list is the Tungkuan Shan
mines. All that is said about these is as follows: "Tungling district on
the Yangtze, 55 miles above Wuhu, Anhui province. A concession to work
these mines, granted to the London and China Syndicate (British) in
1904, was surrendered in 1910 for the sum of £52,000, and the mines were
transferred to a Chinese Company to be formed for their exploitation."
These mines, therefore, are in Chinese hands. I do not know what their
capacity is supposed to be, and in view of the price at which they were
sold, it cannot be very great. The capital of the Hanyehping Co. is
$20,000,000, which is considerably more than £52,000. This was the only
one of the five iron mines mentioned in the _Year Book_ which was not
in Japanese hands at the time when the _Year Book_ was published.

Next comes the Taochung Iron Mine, Anhui province. "The concession which
was granted to the Sino-Japanese Industrial Development Co. will be
worked by the Orient Steel Manufacturing Co. The mine is said to contain
60,000,000 tons of ore, containing 65 per cent. of pure iron. The plan
of operations provides for the production of pig iron at the rate of
170,000 tons a year, a steel mill with a capacity of 100,000 tons of
steel ingots a year, and a casting and forging mill to produce 75,000
tons a year."

The fourth mine is at Chinlingchen, in Shantung, "worked in conjunction
with the Hengshan Colliery by the railway." I presume it is to be sold
back to China along with the railway.

The fifth and last mine mentioned is the Penhsihu Mine, "one of the most
promising mines in the nine mining areas in South Manchuria, where the
Japanese are permitted by an exchange of Notes between the Chinese and
Japanese Governments (May 25, 1915) to prospect for and operate mines.
The seam of this mine extends from near Liaoyang to the neighbourhood of
Penhsihu, and in size is pronounced equal to the Tayeh mine." It will be
observed that this mine, also, was acquired by the Japanese as a result
of the ultimatum enforcing the Twenty-one Demands. The _Year Book_ adds:
"The Japanese Navy is purchasing some of the Penhsihu output. Osaka
ironworks placed an order for 15,000 tons in 1915 and the arsenal at
Osaka in the same year accepted a tender for Penhsihu iron."

It will be seen from these facts that, as regards iron, the Chinese have
allowed the Japanese to acquire a position of vantage from which they
can only be ousted with great difficulty. Nevertheless, it is absolutely
imperative that the Chinese should develop an iron and steel industry of
their own on a large scale. If they do not, they cannot preserve their
national independence, their own civilization, or any of the things that
make them potentially of value to the world. It should be observed that
the chief reason for which the Japanese desire Chinese iron is in order
to be able to exploit and tyrannize over China. Confucius, I understand,
says nothing about iron mines;[107] therefore the old-fashioned Chinese
did not realize the importance of preserving them. Now that they are
awake to the situation, it is almost too late. I shall come back later
to the question of what can be done. For the present, let us continue
our survey of facts.

It may be presumed that the population of China will always be mainly
agricultural. Tea, silk, raw cotton, grain, the soya bean, etc., are
crops in which China excels. In production of raw cotton, China is the
third country in the world, India being the first and the United States
the second. There is, of course, room for great progress in agriculture,
but industry is vital if China is to preserve her national independence,
and it is industry that is our present topic.

To quote Mr. Tyau: "At the end of 1916 the number of factory hands was
officially estimated at 560,000 and that of mine workers 406,000. Since
then no official returns for the whole country have been published ...
but perhaps a million each would be an approximate figure for the
present number of factory operatives and mine workers."[108] Of course,
the hours are very long and the wages very low; Mr. Tyau mentions as
specially modern and praiseworthy certain textile factories where the
wages range from 15 to 45 cents a day.[109] (The cent varies in value,
but is always somewhere between a farthing and a halfpenny.) No doubt as
industry develops Socialism and labour unrest will also develop. If Mr.
Tyau is to be taken as a sample of the modern Chinese governing classes,
the policy of the Government towards Labour will be very illiberal. Mr.
Tyau's outlook is that of an American capitalist, and shows the extent
to which he has come under American influence, as well as that of
conservative England (he is an LL.D. of London). Most of the Young
Chinese I came across, however, were Socialists, and it may be hoped
that the traditional Chinese dislike of uncompromising fierceness will
make the Government less savage against Labour than the Governments of
America and Japan.

There is room for the development of a great textile industry in China.
There are a certain number of modern mills, and nothing but enterprise
is needed to make the industry as great as that of Lancashire.

Shipbuilding has made a good beginning in Shanghai, and would probably
develop rapidly if China had a flourishing iron and steel industry in
native hands.

The total exports of native produce in 1919 were just under £200,000,000
(630,000,000 taels), and the total imports slightly larger. It is
better, however, to consider such statistics in taels, because currency
fluctuations make the results deceptive when reckoned in sterling. The
tael is not a coin, but a certain weight of silver, and therefore its
value fluctuates with the value of silver. The _China Year Book_ gives
imports and exports of Chinese produce for 1902 as 325 million taels and
214 million taels respectively; for 1911, as 482 and 377; for 1917, as
577 and 462; for 1920, as 762 and 541. (The corresponding figures in
pounds sterling for 1911 are 64 millions and 50 millions; for 1917, 124
millions and 99,900,000.) It will thus be seen that, although the
foreign trade of China is still small in proportion to population, it is
increasing very fast. To a European it is always surprising to find how
little the economic life of China is affected by such incidents as
revolutions and civil wars.

Certain principles seem to emerge from a study of the Chinese railways
and mines as needing to be adopted by the Chinese Government if national
independence is to be preserved. As regards railways, nationalization is
obviously desirable, even if it somewhat retards the building of new
lines. Railways not in the hands of the Government will be controlled,
in the end if not in the beginning, by foreigners, who will thus acquire
a power over China which will be fatal to freedom. I think we may hope
that the Chinese authorities now realize this, and will henceforth act
upon it.

In regard to mines, development by the Chinese themselves is urgent,
since undeveloped resources tempt the greed of the Great Powers, and
development by foreigners makes it possible to keep China enslaved. It
should therefore be enacted that, in future, no sale of mines or of any
interest in mines to foreigners, and no loan from foreigners on the
security of mines, will be recognized as legally valid. In view of
extra-territoriality, it will be difficult to induce foreigners to
accept such legislation, and Consular Courts will not readily admit its
validity. But, as the example of extra-territoriality in Japan shows,
such matters depend upon the national strength; if the Powers fear
China, they will recognize the validity of Chinese legislation, but if
not, not. In view of the need of rapid development of mining by Chinese,
it would probably be unwise to nationalize all mines here and now. It
would be better to provide every possible encouragement to genuinely
Chinese private enterprise, and to offer the assistance of geological
and mining experts, etc. The Government should, however, retain the
right (_a_) to buy out any mining concern at a fair valuation; (_b_) to
work minerals itself in cases where the private owners fail to do so, in
spite of expert opinion in favour of their being worked. These powers
should be widely exercised, and as soon as mining has reached the point
compatible with national security, the mines should be all nationalized,
except where, as at Tayeh, diplomatic agreements stand in the way. It is
clear that the Tayeh mines must be recovered by China as soon as
opportunity offers, but when or how that will be it is as yet impossible
to say. Of course I have been assuming an orderly government established
in China, but without that nothing vigorous can be done to repel foreign
aggression. This is a point to which, along with other general questions
connected with the industrializing of China, I shall return in my last
chapter.

It is said by Europeans who have business experience in China that the
Chinese are not good at managing large joint-stock companies, such as
modern industry requires. As everyone knows, they are proverbially
honest in business, in spite of the corruption of their politics. But
their successful businesses--so one gathers--do not usually extend
beyond a single family; and even they are apt to come to grief sooner or
later through nepotism. This is what Europeans say; I cannot speak from
my own knowledge. But I am convinced that modern education is very
quickly changing this state of affairs, which was connected with
Confucianism and the family ethic. Many Chinese have been trained in
business methods in America; there are Colleges of Commerce at Woosung
and other places; and the patriotism of Young China has led men of the
highest education to devote themselves to industrial development. The
Chinese are no doubt, by temperament and tradition, more suited to
commerce than to industry, but contact with the West is rapidly
introducing new aptitudes and a new mentality. There is, therefore,
every reason to expect, if political conditions are not too adverse,
that the industrial development of China will proceed rapidly throughout
the next few decades. It is of vital importance that that development
should be controlled by the Chinese rather than by foreign nations. But
that is part of the larger problem of the recovery of Chinese
independence, with which I shall deal in my last chapter.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 99: For the history of Chinese railways, see Tyau, op. cit.
pp. 183 ff.]

[Footnote 100: _China in_ 1918. Published by the _Peking Leader_, pp.
45-6.]

[Footnote 101: Op. cit. chap. xi.]

[Footnote 102: _China in_ 1918, p. 26. There is perhaps some mistake in
the figures given for iron ore, as the Tayeh mines alone are estimated
by some to contain 700,000,000 tons of iron ore. Coleman, op cit. p.
51.]

[Footnote 103: Page 63. The 1922 _Year Book_ gives 19,500,000 tons of
coal production.]

[Footnote 104: _Modern China,_ p, 265.]

[Footnote 105: Pages 74-5.]

[Footnote 106: Coleman, op. cit. chap. xiv.]

[Footnote 107: It seems it would be inaccurate to maintain that there is
nothing on the subject in the Gospels. An eminent American divine
pointed out in print, as regards the advice against laying up treasure
where moth and rust doth corrupt, that "moth and rust do not get at Mr.
Rockefeller's oil wells, and thieves do not often break through and
steal a railway. What Jesus condemned was hoarding wealth." See Upton
Sinclair, _The Profits of Religion_, 1918, p. 175.]

[Footnote 108: Page 237.]

[Footnote 109: Page 218.]

Chapter XV

The Outlook for China



In this chapter I propose to take, as far as I am able, the standpoint
of a progressive and public-spirited Chinese, and consider what reforms,
in what order, I should advocate in that case.

To begin with, it is clear that China must be saved by her own efforts,
and cannot rely upon outside help. In the international situation, China
has had both good and bad fortune. The Great War was unfortunate,
because it gave Japan temporarily a free hand; the collapse of Tsarist
Russia was fortunate, because it put an end to the secret alliance of
Russians and Japanese; the Anglo-Japanese Alliance was unfortunate,
because it compelled us to abet Japanese aggression even against our own
economic interests; the friction between Japan and America was
fortunate; but the agreement arrived at by the Washington Conference,
though momentarily advantageous as regards Shantung, is likely, in the
long run, to prove unfortunate, since it will make America less willing
to oppose Japan. For reasons which I set forth in Chap. X., unless China
becomes strong, either the collapse of Japan or her unquestioned
ascendency in the Far East is almost certain to prove disastrous to
China; and one or other of these is very likely to come about. All the
Great Powers, without exception, have interests which are incompatible,
in the long run, with China's welfare and with the best development of
Chinese civilization. Therefore the Chinese must seek salvation in their
own energy, not in the benevolence of any outside Power.

The problem is not merely one of _political_ independence; a certain
cultural independence is at least as important. I have tried to show in
this book that the Chinese are, in certain ways, superior to us, and it
would not be good either for them or for us if, in these ways, they had
to descend to our level in order to preserve their existence as a
nation. In this matter, however, a compromise is necessary. Unless they
adopt some of our vices to some extent, we shall not respect them, and
they will be increasingly oppressed by foreign nations. The object must
be to keep this process within the narrowest limits compatible with
safety.

First of all, a patriotic spirit is necessary--not, of course, the
bigoted anti-foreign spirit of the Boxers, but the enlightened attitude
which is willing to learn from other nations while not willing to allow
them to dominate. This attitude has been generated among educated
Chinese, and to a great extent in the merchant class, by the brutal
tuition of Japan. The danger of patriotism is that, as soon as it has
proved strong enough for successful defence, it is apt to turn to
foreign aggression. China, by her resources and her population, is
capable of being the greatest Power in the world after the United
States. It is much to be feared that, in the process of becoming strong
enough to preserve their independence, the Chinese may become strong
enough to embark upon a career of imperialism. It cannot be too
strongly urged that patriotism should be only defensive, not aggressive.
But with this proviso, I think a spirit of patriotism is absolutely
necessary to the regeneration of China. Independence is to be sought,
not as an end in itself, but as a means towards a new blend of Western
skill with the traditional Chinese virtues. If this end is not achieved,
political independence will have little value.

The three chief requisites, I should say, are: (1) The establishment of
an orderly Government; (2) industrial development under Chinese control;
(3) The spread of education. All these aims will have to be pursued
concurrently, but on the whole their urgency seems to me to come in the
above order. We have already seen how large a part the State will have
to take in building up industry, and how impossible this is while the
political anarchy continues. Funds for education on a large scale are
also unobtainable until there is good government. Therefore good
government is the prerequisite of all other reforms. Industrialism and
education are closely connected, and it would be difficult to decide the
priority between them; but I have put industrialism first, because,
unless it is developed very soon by the Chinese, foreigners will have
acquired such a strong hold that it will be very difficult indeed to
oust them. These reasons have decided me that our three problems ought
to be taken in the above order.

1. _The establishment of an orderly government_.--At the moment of
writing, the condition of China is as anarchic as it has ever been. A
battle between Chang-tso-lin and Wu-Pei-Fu is imminent; the former is
usually considered, though falsely according to some good authorities,
the most reactionary force in China; Wu-Pei-Fu, though _The Times_ calls
him "the Liberal leader," may well prove no more satisfactory than
"Liberal" leaders nearer home. It is of course possible that, if he
wins, he may be true to his promises and convoke a Parliament for all
China; but it is at least equally possible that he may not. In any case,
to depend upon the favour of a successful general is as precarious as to
depend upon the benevolence of a foreign Power. If the progressive
elements are to win, they must become a strong organized force.

So far as I can discover, Chinese Constitutionalists are doing the best
thing that is possible at the moment, namely, concerting a joint
programme, involving the convoking of a Parliament and the cessation of
military usurpation. Union is essential, even if it involves sacrifice
of cherished beliefs on the part of some. Given a programme upon which
all the Constitutionalists are united, they will acquire great weight in
public opinion, which is very powerful in China. They may then be able,
sooner or later, to offer a high constitutional position to some
powerful general, on condition of his ceasing to depend upon mere
military force. By this means they may be able to turn the scales in
favour of the man they select, as the student agitation turned the
scales in July 1920 in favour of Wu-Pei-Fu against the An Fu party. Such
a policy can only be successful if it is combined with vigorous
propaganda, both among the civilian population and among the soldiers,
and if, as soon as peace is restored, work is found for disbanded
soldiers and pay for those who are not disbanded. This raises the
financial problem, which is very difficult, because foreign Powers will
not lend except in return for some further sacrifice of the remnants of
Chinese independence. (For reasons explained in Chap. X., I do not
accept the statement by the American consortium bankers that a loan from
them would not involve control over China's internal affairs. They may
not mean control to be involved, but I am convinced that in fact it
would be.) The only way out of this difficulty that I can see is to
raise an internal loan by appealing to the patriotism of Chinese
merchants. There is plenty of money in China, but, very naturally, rich
Chinese will not lend to any of the brigands who now control the
Government.

When the time comes to draft a permanent Constitution, I have no doubt
that it will have to be federal, allowing a very large measure of
autonomy to the provinces, and reserving for the Central Government few
things except customs, army and navy, foreign relations and railways.
Provincial feeling is strong, and it is now, I think, generally
recognized that a mistake was made in 1912 in not allowing it more
scope.

While a Constitution is being drafted, and even after it has been agreed
upon, it will not be possible to rely upon the inherent prestige of
Constitutionalism, or to leave public opinion without guidance. It will
be necessary for the genuinely progressive people throughout the country
to unite in a strongly disciplined society, arriving at collective
decisions and enforcing support of those decisions upon all its members.
This society will have to win the confidence of public opinion by a very
rigid avoidance of corruption and political profiteering; the slightest
failure of a member in this respect must be visited by expulsion. The
society must make itself obviously the champion of the national
interests as against all self-seekers, speculators and toadies to
foreign Powers. It will thus become able authoritatively to commend or
condemn politicians and to wield great influence over opinion, even in
the army. There exists in Young China enough energy, patriotism and
honesty to create such a society and to make it strong through the
respect which it will command. But unless enlightened patriotism is
organized in some such way, its power will not be equal to the political
problems with which China is faced.

Sooner or later, the encroachments of foreign Powers upon the sovereign
rights of China must be swept away. The Chinese must recover the Treaty
Ports, control of the tariff, and so on; they must also free themselves
from extra-territoriality. But all this can probably be done, as it was
in Japan, without offending foreign Powers (except perhaps the
Japanese). It would be a mistake to complicate the early stages of
Chinese recovery by measures which would antagonize foreign Powers in
general. Russia was in a stronger position for defence than China, yet
Russia has suffered terribly from the universal hostility provoked by
the Bolsheviks. Given good government and a development of China's
resources, it will be possible to obtain most of the needed concessions
by purely diplomatic means; the rest can wait for a suitable
opportunity.

2. _Industrial development._--On this subject I have already written in
Chap. XIV.; it is certain general aspects of the subject that I wish to
consider now. For reasons already given, I hold that all railways ought
to be in the hands of the State, and that all successful mines ought to
be purchased by the State at a fair valuation, even if they are not
State-owned from the first. Contracts with foreigners for loans ought to
be carefully drawn so as to leave the control to China. There would not
be much difficulty about this if China had a stable and orderly
government; in that case, many foreign capitalists would be willing to
lend on good security, without exacting any part in the management.
Every possible diplomatic method should be employed to break down such a
monopoly as the consortium seeks to acquire in the matter of loans.

Given good government, a large amount of State enterprise would be
desirable in Chinese industry. There are many arguments for State
Socialism, or rather what Lenin calls State Capitalism, in any country
which is economically but not culturally backward. In the first place,
it is easier for the State to borrow than for a private person; in the
second place, it is easier for the State to engage and employ the
foreign experts who are likely to be needed for some time to come; in
the third place, it is easier for the State to make sure that vital
industries do not come under the control of foreign Powers. What is
perhaps more important than any of these considerations is that, by
undertaking industrial enterprise from the first, the State can prevent
the growth of many of the evils of private capitalism. If China can
acquire a vigorous and honest State, it will be possible to develop
Chinese industry without, at the same time, developing the overweening
power of private capitalists by which the Western nations are now both
oppressed and misled.

But if this is to be done successfully, it will require a great change
in Chinese morals, a development of public spirit in place of the family
ethic, a transference to the public service of that honesty which
already exists in private business, and a degree of energy which is at
present rare. I believe that Young China is capable of fulfilling these
requisites, spurred on by patriotism; but it is important to realize
that they are requisites, and that, without them, any system of State
Socialism must fail.

For industrial development, it is important that the Chinese should
learn to become technical experts and also to become skilled workers. I
think more has been done towards the former of these needs than towards
the latter. For the latter purpose, it would probably be wise to import
skilled workmen--say from Germany--and cause them to give instruction to
Chinese workmen in any new branch of industrial work that it might be
desired to develop.

3. _Education._--If China is to become a democracy, as most progressive
Chinese hope, universal education is imperative. Where the bulk of the
population cannot read, true democracy is impossible. Education is a
good in itself, but is also essential for developing political
consciousness, of which at present there is almost none in rural China.
The Chinese themselves are well aware of this, but in the present state
of the finances it is impossible to establish universal elementary
education. Until it has been established for some time, China must be,
in fact, if not in form, an oligarchy, because the uneducated masses
cannot have any effective political opinion. Even given good government,
it is doubtful whether the immense expense of educating such a vast
population could be borne by the nation without a considerable
industrial development. Such industrial development as already exists is
mainly in the hands of foreigners, and its profits provide warships for
the Japanese, or mansions and dinners for British and American
millionaires. If its profits are to provide the funds for Chinese
education, industry must be in Chinese hands. This is another reason why
industrial development must probably precede any complete scheme of
education.

For the present, even if the funds existed, there would not be
sufficient teachers to provide a schoolmaster in every village. There
is, however, such an enthusiasm for education in China that teachers are
being trained as fast as is possible with such limited resources; indeed
a great deal of devotion and public spirit is being shown by Chinese
educators, whose salaries are usually many months in arrears.

Chinese control is, to my mind, as important in the matter of education
as in the matter of industry. For the present, it is still necessary to
have foreign instructors in some subjects, though this necessity will
soon cease. Foreign instructors, however, provided they are not too
numerous, do no harm, any more than foreign experts in railways and
mines. What does harm is foreign management. Chinese educated in mission
schools, or in lay establishments controlled by foreigners, tend to
become de-nationalized, and to have a slavish attitude towards Western
civilization. This unfits them for taking a useful part in the national
life, and tends to undermine their morals. Also, oddly enough, it makes
them more conservative in purely Chinese matters than the young men and
women who have had a modern education under Chinese auspices. Europeans
in general are more conservative about China than the modern Chinese
are, and they tend to convey their conservatism to their pupils. And of
course their whole influence, unavoidably if involuntarily, militates
against national self-respect in those whom they teach.

Those who desire to do research in some academic subject will, for some
time to come, need a period of residence in some European or American
university. But for the great majority of university students it is far
better, if possible, to acquire their education in China. Returned
students have, to a remarkable extent, the stamp of the country from
which they have returned, particularly when that country is America. A
society such as was foreshadowed earlier in this chapter, in which all
really progressive Chinese should combine, would encounter difficulties,
as things stand, from the divergencies in national bias between students
returned from (say) Japan, America and Germany. Given time, this
difficulty can be overcome by the increase in purely Chinese university
education, but at present the difficulty would be serious.

To overcome this difficulty, two things are needed: inspiring
leadership, and a clear conception of the kind of civilization to be
aimed at. Leadership will have to be both intellectual and practical. As
regards intellectual leadership, China is a country where writers have
enormous influence, and a vigorous reformer possessed of literary skill
could carry with him the great majority of Young China. Men with the
requisite gifts exist in China; I might mention, as an example
personally known to me, Dr. Hu Suh.[110] He has great learning, wide
culture, remarkable energy, and a fearless passion for reform; his
writings in the vernacular inspire enthusiasm among progressive Chinese.
He is in favour of assimilating all that is good in Western culture, but
by no means a slavish admirer of our ways.

The practical political leadership of such a society as I conceive to be
needed would probably demand different gifts from those required in an
intellectual leader. It is therefore likely that the two could not be
combined in one man, but would need men as different as Lenin and Karl
Marx.

The aim to be pursued is of importance, not only to China, but to the
world. Out of the renaissance spirit now existing in China, it is
possible, if foreign nations can be prevented from working havoc, to
develop a new civilization better than any that the world has yet known.
This is the aim which Young China should set before itself: the
preservation of the urbanity and courtesy, the candour and the pacific
temper, which are characteristic of the Chinese nation, together with a
knowledge of Western science and an application of it to the practical
problems of China. Of such practical problems there are two kinds: one
due to the internal condition of China, and the other to its
international situation. In the former class come education, democracy,
the diminution of poverty, hygiene and sanitation, and the prevention of
famines. In the latter class come the establishment of a strong
government, the development of industrialism, the revision of treaties
and the recovery of the Treaty Ports (as to which Japan may serve as a
model), and finally, the creation of an army sufficiently strong to
defend the country against Japan. Both classes of problems demand
Western science. But they do not demand the adoption of the Western
philosophy of life.

If the Chinese were to adopt the Western philosophy of life, they would,
as soon as they had made themselves safe against foreign aggression,
embark upon aggression on their own account. They would repeat the
campaigns of the Han and Tang dynasties in Central Asia, and perhaps
emulate Kublai by the invasion of Japan. They would exploit their
material resources with a view to producing a few bloated plutocrats at
home and millions dying of hunger abroad. Such are the results which the
West achieves by the application of science. If China were led astray by
the lure of brutal power, she might repel her enemies outwardly, but
would have yielded to them inwardly. It is not unlikely that the great
military nations of the modern world will bring about their own
destruction by their inability to abstain from war, which will become,
with every year that passes, more scientific and more devastating. If
China joins in this madness, China will perish like the rest. But if
Chinese reformers can have the moderation to stop when they have made
China capable of self-defence, and to abstain from the further step of
foreign conquest; if, when they have become safe at home, they can turn
aside from the materialistic activities imposed by the Powers, and
devote their freedom to science and art and the inauguration of a better
economic system--then China will have played the part in the world for
which she is fitted, and will have given to mankind as a whole new hope
in the moment of greatest need. It is this hope that I wish to see
inspiring Young China. This hope is realizable; and because it is
realizable, China deserves a foremost place in the esteem of every lover
of mankind.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 110: An account of a portion of his work will be found in
Tyau, op. cit. pp. 40 ff.]

Appendix


While the above pages were going through the Press, some important
developments have taken place in China. Wu-Pei-Fu has defeated
Chang-tso-lin and made himself master of Peking. Chang has retreated
towards Manchuria with a broken army, and proclaimed the independence of
Manchuria. This might suit the Japanese very well, but it is hardly to
be supposed that the other Powers would acquiesce. It is, therefore, not
unlikely that Chang may lose Manchuria also, and cease to be a factor in
Chinese politics.

For the moment, Wu-Pei-Fu controls the greater part of China, and his
intentions become important. The British in China have, for some years,
befriended him, and this fact colours all Press telegrams appearing in
our newspapers. According to _The Times_, he has pronounced in favour of
the reassembling of the old all-China Parliament, with a view to the
restoration of constitutional government. This is a measure in which the
South could concur, and if he really adheres to this intention he has it
in his power to put an end to Chinese anarchy. _The Times_ Peking
correspondent, telegraphing on May 30, reports that "Wu-Pei-Fu declares
that if the old Parliament will reassemble and work in national
interests he will support it up to the limit, and fight any
obstructionists."

On May 18, the same correspondent telegraphed that "Wu-Pei-Fu is lending
his support to the unification movements, and has found common ground
for action with Chen Chiung Ming," who is Sun's colleague at Canton and
is engaged in civil war with Sun, who is imperialistic and wants to
conquer all China for his government, said to be alone constitutional.
The programme agreed upon between Wu and Chen Chiung Ming is given in
the same telegram as follows:

     Local self-government shall be established and magistrates shall
     be elected by the people; District police shall be created under
     District Boards subject to Central Provincial Boards; Civil
     governors shall be responsible to the Central Government, not to
     the Tuchuns; a national army shall be created, controlled and
     paid by the Central Government; Provincial police and
     _gendarmerie_, not the Tuchuns or the army, shall be responsible
     for peace and order in the provinces; the whole nation shall
     agree to recall the old Parliament and the restoration of the
     Provisional Constitution of the first year of the Republic; Taxes
     shall be collected by the Central Government, and only a
     stipulated sum shall be granted to each province for expenses,
     the balance to be forwarded to the Central Government as under
     the Ching dynasty; Afforestation shall be undertaken, industries
     established, highways built, and other measures taken to keep the
     people on the land.

This is an admirable programme, but it is impossible to know how much of
it will ever be carried out.

Meanwhile, Sun Yat Sen is still at war with Wu-Pei-Fu. It has been
stated in the British Press that there was an alliance between Sun and
Chang, but it seems there was little more than a common hostility to Wu.
Sun's friends maintain that he is a genuine Constitutionalist, and that
Wu is not to be trusted, but Chen Chiung Ming has a better reputation
than Sun among reformers. The British in China all praise Wu and hate
Sun; the Americans all praise Sun and decry Wu. Sun undoubtedly has a
past record of genuine patriotism, and there can be no doubt that the
Canton Government has been the best in China. What appears in our
newspapers on the subject is certainly designed to give a falsely
unfavourable impression of Canton. For example, in _The Times_ of May
15, a telegram appeared from Hong-Kong to the following effect:

     I learn that the troops of Sun Yat Sen, President of South China,
     which are stated to be marching north from Canton, are a rabble.
     Many are without weapons and a large percentage of the uniforms
     are merely rags. There is no discipline, and gambling and
     opium-smoking are rife.

Nevertheless, on May 30, _The Times_ had to confess that this army had
won a brilliant victory, capturing "the most important stronghold in
Kiangsi," together with 40 field guns and large quantities of munitions.

The situation must remain obscure until more detailed news has arrived
by mail. It is to be hoped that the Canton Government, through the
victory of Chen Chiung Ming, will come to terms with Wu-Pei-Fu, and will
be strong enough to compel him to adhere to the terms. It is to be hoped
also that Chang's proclamation of the independence of Manchuria will not
be seized upon by Japan as an excuse for a more complete absorption of
that country. If Wu-Pei-Fu adheres to the declaration quoted above,
there can be no patriotic reason why Canton should not co-operate with
him; on the other hand, the military strength of Canton makes it more
likely that Wu will find it prudent to adhere to his declaration. There
is certainly a better chance than there was before the defeat of Chang
for the unification of China and the ending of the Tuchuns' tyranny. But
it is as yet no more than a chance, and the future is still
problematical.

_June_ 21, 1922.