CHAPTER II
WHAT CHINA MEANS TO THE WORLD
The day is past when any one in Europe, whether Christian or non-Christian, can be indifferent to what is happening in China. The Christian has indeed been for a long time alive to the importance of these developments, but the ordinary citizen with no strong religious views has usually neither displayed nor felt any interest in a country separated from us by so many miles and by such an untraversable gulf in thought and language. If the Christian has urged the importance of Chinese missions, his neighbours have answered by asking him why he cannot leave the Chinese to themselves and to their own religion. Whatever justice the opponent of missions in times past may have thought he had for this view, he cannot now maintain that the Chinese question is one which may be put on one side by any thoughtful man. The movements of this vast mass of humanity, amounting to a quarter of the population of the world, cannot but fail to have a very real and vital effect on the whole civilised world.
The revolution that is affecting China brings Europe and America into close contact with a country equal to Europe in size, and not far inferior in productive power. A few years ago China was so far away that except as an outlet for trade it had little interest for people here. The voyage occupied many months and was esteemed a hazardous journey, owing to the dangerous coasts and typhoons of the China seas. Now a train-de-luxe conveys the traveller in a fortnight across Asia to Peking, and if the accommodation on the Chinese part of the railway is not altogether luxurious, the traveller remembers that it is far superior to that on the first railways opened in our own land. The journey is of course tedious, but the fact that business men in the north of China are talking of always spending their summer holidays in England, will show how close China is now to Europe. It is no exaggeration to say that in reckoning distance by the time it takes to complete the journey, China is nearer to England than London was to Scotland in the days of Dr. Johnson, while in point of comfort and convenience there is no comparison. The journey from London to Peking is far easier at the present day than the journey from London to Edinburgh in the days of Johnson's famous trip to the Hebrides.
If in this way we are getting closer to China, we are still more growing closer in thought. No longer can we speak of a gulf that separates us from China. Every year English is becoming more and more the language of educated men in East; even though we cannot read their books, they are reading ours either in translations or in the original. Japan has set the example of having English taught universally in her high schools, and now China is following her example. A foreigner, talking about Esperanto, remarked: "What would be the use of making an universal language? English, at any rate in the East, is the universal language." That barbarous patois, "pidgin" or business English, lives still in China. It consists of English roots, enlarged by the addition of Portuguese words, put into Chinese idiom and pronounced Chinese fashion. But "pidgin" English is fast giving way to pure English, spoken most commonly with a marked American accent.
If this growing proximity of China compels the attention of the civilised world, the virgin wealth of her mineral resources and the cheapness of her labour have excited the cupidity of the Western capitalist, and it is daily more obvious that China must become the centre of international politics, therefore the extent to which she will affect the rest of the world should be a matter for careful consideration. India, it will be urged, has long been in contact with Europe, and the effect on Europe is small. Why should there be any difference when another Oriental race comes in close proximity with Europe? Putting on one side the fact that India has, both in trade and in politics, had a very great effect on England, it can be answered that there is an essential difference between the brown inhabitants of India and the yellow race. The former are, through religion or custom, unable to accommodate themselves to the conditions of Western civilisation; the latter have shown themselves such adepts at accepting Western life that they have excelled the white man, to his great annoyance, in his own civilisation. The Chinaman, who is forbidden to enter America, Australia, and South Africa, is refused admittance, not because he has been untried or because he has been tried and found wanting, but because he has been tried in the three continents and found by all who have tried him eminently efficient—so efficient that if he were allowed to continue in those countries, he would soon render the presence of the white settler unnecessary. He has been tried in three just balances and been found of such value that the white voter is unanimous in demanding his exclusion. But even the most aggressive Chinese exclusionist can scarcely hope to exclude him from his own country, and the Chinaman who stays at home is probably a better man than the Chinaman who goes abroad.
Western civilisation may be expected to grow with equal rapidity in China as it has in Japan. Obviously Japan is the precedent that China will follow rather than India, whether Hindu or Mohammedan.
A few years ago a man would have been classed as an eccentric who dared foretell that Russia would be defeated by Japan. When Japan talked about going to war with Russia, Russia laughed. Who can tell how we shall speak of China a few years hence? For Japan after all is only the same size in population as Great Britain, but China is eight times as large.
There are three ways in which China may affect Europe. Militarily, she may menace her by her enormous armies enlisted from her vast population. Commercially, she may afford an outlet for our trade far greater than we possess at the present time, and perhaps be a competitor in trade and a place where the capital of Europe will be invested. Morally, she may either depress or elevate our social morals. Perhaps the reader may be inclined to smile at the idea of China being in a higher moral condition than Europe, so as to be able to react on her beneficially, but stranger things have happened; and if Europe follows the example of France in deterioration, and China continues to advance with the same rapidity, China might easily excel Europe in morals.
Let us first deal with the question from the military point of view. The military authorities who know the Chinese seem to be equally divided in opinion; many are confident that they are an unwarlike race, others maintain and bring evidence to prove that under competent officers they have great military qualities.
A few years ago, for instance, the development of the military power of China was regarded as a possible danger to the world, and especially to England or Russia. It was pointed out that China might easily descend with a huge army on to India in the distant future, or she might turn her arms northward and conquer the wide districts of Siberia. Now the popular view is the reverse, and the military power of China is regarded as a thing incapable of great development. A Japanese diplomatist with whom we discussed the question ridiculed the idea of the yellow peril and smiled at the suggestion that China could ever be a nation great in war. Certainly her present military power can be safely ignored except in Manchuria; whether that power is capable of development is a moot point. Believers in the war-like possibilities of China point out that as a matter of fact China is by right of conquest suzerain to such warlike races as the Tibetans and the Ghurkas, and that her empire reaches as far as Turkestan. In answer it is urged that the victors were not the Chinese, but the conquerors and present rulers of the Chinese, the northern Manchus; who, till they were absorbed by Chinese civilisation, spoke a different language and wrote a different character.
The Manchus are far from being extinct, though through years of sensual indulgence they have lost their virility; but the discipline of religion or the call of a national emergency might restore the war-like qualities of the race. It was only in 1792 that the Chinese, under Sund Fo, defeated the Ghurkas, and we must allow that a race who could defeat these gallant soldiers must be skilled and brave in war. On the other hand I was assured that the Manchus, so far from showing any courage in the war with Japan, were the first to flee, and that they differ in nothing from the Chinese except that they are pensioners and ride horses. Those who disbelieve in the courage of the Chinese say the Chinese never had any courage except of a passive order; that they would endure suffering against any race on earth, and that their whole history tells that tale; that they have been subject in turn to the Mongols, the Kins, and the Manchus; and that the period of the Ming dynasty when they were free, was only because the Mongols had reduced every nation within many thousands of miles to subjection, and then they themselves had fallen a prey, not to the Chinese arms directly, but to the enervating and destructive effects of Chinese civilisation which rendered them absolutely unable to fight.
Those who argue in this way point to that great feature of Chinese scenery, the fortified wall. That Great Wall of China, climbing hill and dale, was built to keep the northern and warlike tribes from harrying the peace-loving and industrious Chinaman. Behind that wall lie nothing but fortress after fortress; every city is walled, and those walls tell their own tale. A warlike race never dwells in walled cities. When the traveller enters Japan after visiting China, the first thing which strikes him is the absence of walled cities. The villages and towns lie along the roads as they do in our own country instead of clustering behind the tall and gloomy walls of China. Again, those who say the Chinese will never fight, point out that they have never been able to reduce two savage races right in their midst, the Maios and Lolos. One devoted missionary who had spent many years of his life in the thankless task of attempting to approach these savage Lolos, gave us an interesting account of the relation between the Lolos and the Chinese which certainly does not show that the Chinese have much military skill. The Lolos are a sort of Highland caterans who live in the mountains in the west of China, and from time to time raid the peace-loving Chinese villages. The Chinese then retaliate by organising a large force, who advance on the Lolo country and burn their villages. The Lolos rarely offer any direct resistance, as they realise they are hopelessly outnumbered, but take an opportunity to raid another village and to slaughter hundreds of defenceless Chinese. If the forces are anything like equal, the Lolos will fight, and even sometimes when the forces are wholly unequal. On one occasion seven Lolos and two women put to flight three hundred Chinese soldiers, killing forty and wounding many more. The Chinese consequently live in considerable fear of those Highland barbarians, whose fierce yells and savage onslaught produce absolute panic in their troops.
Officers who have commanded Chinese troops seem generally to believe in their capabilities. Gordon, for instance, spoke in the highest terms of the soldiers who formed his "ever victorious army," and the English officers who commanded the Weihaiwei regiment and those who commanded the Chinese volunteers at the siege of Peking spoke equally well of their men. It is reported that the Chinese soldiers at the siege of Tientsin would carry the wounded back out of the range of fire when no European soldiers could be found ready to perform this dangerous task, but of this story I could find no first-hand confirmation. But whether the Chinese in times to come will develop an efficient army or whether they do not, the most competent judges affirm that Chinese military greatness will always make for peace; that they will never wage a war of aggression; and that, so far from being a menace to the world, they will prove to be a security for the world's peace in the Far East. In fact it is the continuance of China's military weakness rather than the growth of her military power which is most likely to disturb the political atmosphere. China is far too rich a prize to be safe if unguarded, and the acquisition of her wealth will always prove a temptation to her needy neighbours.
The integrity of the Chinese empire is for many reasons a most desirable thing, and that integrity can best be maintained by an increase of China's military power.
One of the reasons why this is so much to be desired is from the commercial effect which China may have on the rest of the world. If the vast masses of her singularly excellent workmen are to be exploited by powers who have no thought for either hers or the world's welfare; if the sweated den of the alien is a menace to the healthy conditions of the working man in London; if the policy of such philanthropists as Lord Shaftesbury has been at all beneficial to the world at large, the sudden introduction of hundreds of thousands of ill-paid but efficient working men to the great Western market will have a deleterious effect on the social conditions of the civilised world. It is obviously far more simple to bring the factories to China than to bring the Chinaman to the factories, and this will be freely done if ever the flag of the foreigner waves over China. The great advantages that China can offer of cheap labour, cheap coal and cheap carriage, coupled with the security of a European flag, will have the effect of attracting to China a very large number of the world's industries. If this is done gradually, so that the internal market in China increases proportionally, this will not result in any evil to other nations. China will share in the wealth of the world, and will be at once a large producer and a large consumer; but if before Western civilisation has been assimilated by the working classes Western factories are extensively started in China the result will be one of those dislocations of social conditions which we include under the name of sweating.
Western conditions of labour in Western countries may be deemed by some to be hard, but no one can doubt that if Western conditions of labour were forced on a population which did not understand them, they would have a tendency to become definitely oppressive. The Chinese coolie will, I fear, be as little able to maintain his ground against the foreign contractor supported by the arms of a foreign power, as the Congo native is to maintain his rights against his Belgian oppressor; and unless Western powers have the humanity and wisdom to resist those of their own nations who will clamour to make money out of Chinese labour, Western dominance in China is not to be desired by Western wage-earners.
HANKOW, THE CHICAGO OF CHINA. RIVER AT LOW WATER, 600 MILES FROM THE SEA. HAN-YANG IRONWORKS
One of the most impressive sights in China is the Han-yang Ironworks. They employ three thousand men, and are owned by a body of Chinese capitalists. They have found it worth while to triple their plant within the last two or three years, and one can hardly wonder when one realises that, though the labourers are paid a very high rate according to Chinese scale, they only get sixpence a day, and even allowing that it requires three Chinamen to do the work of one Englishman, which is a higher proportion than is generally claimed, obviously there is a very large margin of profit to be made by the owners of the works. It is worthy of note that the Chinese have been unable at present to produce any native engineers; sixteen Europeans of various nationalities manage and control the works, though they are owned by Chinese, but the skilled work is all done by Chinese. For instance, we saw a man straightening the rails with a steam hammer; it was very skilled work, and I was told he was making 7d. or 8d. a day. If any social reformer, if any one interested in the condition of the working classes, has time to consider this question and to escape from that parochial mind which so distorts the importance of things, he will see that the conditions of the working classes in Europe will depend to a greater degree on the proper development of the social conditions of China than on any factor at home. To put it briefly, if the fourth of the labour of this world is living under sweating conditions, the other three-fourths may consider themselves lucky if their income is not cut down by 25 per cent.
On the other hand, if the development of China is allowed to pursue its normal course, and education and enlightenment are encouraged to proceed by equal steps with material well-being, the commercial conditions of China, so far from being injurious, will prove beneficial to the world at large. The internal market, for one thing, will tend to keep pace with China's productions. If China exports, she will also import; the volume of trade will no doubt be enormously increased, and that trade will bring prosperity to China and to those other countries who are trading with her. Her people will gradually grow accustomed to Western conditions, and, if China maintains her independence, those conditions will not be allowed to become too onerous to the poorer classes. The wealth of another country does not injure her neighbours; it is rather her poverty which injures them. There is always the danger that the poorer country will drain the capital from the richer country, and that a rich country becomes harsh to a poor country in the same way that the creditor is harsh to the debtor; certainly it would be most undesirable if a sudden industrial expansion in China paralysed many industrial undertakings in England by depriving them of the capital they needed for enlargement, and it would be equally undesirable to have any industrial undertaking in China controlled by a Board of Directors in London, whose one object was to increase their dividends, and who were ignorant of and therefore indifferent to the injury that might be incidentally done to the welfare of thousands of Chinese who fell under their power.
And this brings me to the third point of how China may affect the rest of the world. She may, and most probably will, degrade the moral tone of Europe. On the other hand, it will be quite possible that she may act as a moral tonic. We scarcely realise the nature of the chains that bind one part of our civilisation to another. To hear men talk, one would suppose that the great factors in the government of mankind are the laws and regulations made by kings and popular assemblies; but a deeper inquiry must show that it is only the smaller part of a man's life that is controlled by law, the greater part is controlled by custom or fashion which is enforced, to use the technical term, by the sanction of public opinion. Consider, for instance, the customs of dress, or of manners, or the hours we keep, or the way we refer to things, or even our very thoughts—they are all subject to this power; the State does not generally command any particular dress, yet there is a large and increasing measure of uniformity in dress. You may go from Asia to America, from Vancouver to Vladivostock, and you will see uniformity in the rules of dress. This uniformity is all the more remarkable, because its laws, instead of being fixed and stationary, are constantly altered; indeed, in comparison with the power of fashion, the powers of the greatest autocrat or of the most efficient public office are as nothing. The autocrat may give an order; the public office, with its endless clerks and forms, with its miles of red-tape, may try to see that order carried out; but may quite possibly fail. But fashion, issuing her capricious orders, has no office, no clerks, no printed forms that have to be filled up to secure obedience, yet her subjects yield such willing service that they seek for information from every quarter as to the nature of her commands, and when they know them, they count neither money nor comfort to be of importance compared with obedience to their mistress. The world, while it wonders at its own submission, enlarges or reduces its clothes, alters its head-gear, and further, will even change its manners, its speech, and its thoughts. The latest fashion-book is but the exaggeration of a world-power; the same power that compels women to tighten their skirts and widen their hats, makes their husbands talk about socialism and observe Empire Day. The power of fashion lies in this, that while every one obeys, no one is conscious of any difficulty in obeying; the chains with which fashion binds this world may be so strong that the strongest nature cannot break them, yet they are so light that the most sensitive natures are not conscious of their restraint.
But this great power of fashion has its limits, and those are the limits of our civilisation. The mandate of the dressmaker may reach from Siberia to Peru, but it has no power in Mohammedan, Hindu, or Confucian lands; the Turkish lady still veils her face, the Hindu still adheres to his caste, the Confucian up to this moment still preserves his queue and his blue robe, but if China accepts our civilisation this must change. The modern Chinaman dresses in Western fashion; the loose flowing garment of China acts as a sort of barometer by which the extent of European pressure can be tested; up-country they are as loose as ever, but in Shanghai, wherever Chinese dress is still preserved, it has grown tight. A change typical of what may happen if the union between the civilisations takes place without any guidance may now be seen in the streets of Shanghai; the dress of the women is shaped in the Chinese fashion, they wear the traditional coat and trousers, but the cut of those garments offends both East and West alike by their great exiguity.
Every one would allow that Western fashions, or, at any rate, men's fashions, must to a great extent affect China, but there is a deeper thought beyond; Western fashions will not merely affect Chinese dress, but they will also affect Chinese thought, and when they have incorporated Chinese thought into Western civilisation, when the conquest is complete and China and the West are one, a reaction will take place, and that which has subdued China to the yoke of Western fashion will give in its turn power to China to control the Western world. Without suggesting for a moment that Peking fashions will take the place of Paris fashions, or that the Englishman will grow a queue, I do suggest that there are many precedents in history for expecting that such a moral force as the Chinese reverence for parents, or such an immoral position as the Chinese contempt for the working-man, will not be without its effect on the Western world. Again and again it has been pointed out by both missionary and Government official, that so great is the power of China, that she brings into subjugation to her thought any one who is long resident in her country. If it should happen that the Western world should neglect the Chinaman when it has the opportunity of teaching and directing him, longing as he is to learn about Western civilisation, the punishment of the West will be that she will, in years to come, be influenced for evil by the power of the great Celestial Empire. If, on the other hand, the East should turn towards Christianity, and, taught by Christianity, should learn to live a higher life, the example of her faith and of her morality will in years to come react beneficially on the Western world.