A momentous transformation had been effected in a few months. China now occupied the paradoxical position of a protected State without protection; of a sovereign State shorn of the power of fulfilling her obligations. To this impossible situation the Government itself had been an efficient contributor. During the progress of the war China had, of her own motion, thrown herself on the mercy of the world. Before all the Powers, great and small, with whom she had intercourse, she humbled herself in the dust, imploring them collectively, separately, or anyhow, to save her from her relentless foe. She, the titular mistress of the world, grovelled thus at the feet of Powers to whom she would not, even then, in plain words, have conceded equality. And when assistance eventually came it was imposed on her by external force. She could make no conditions.
The revolution which the revised treaty of Shimonoseki effected in the international status of China was naturally first realised by those who had brought it about. China ceased to be a free agent; she became a vassal, and not to one Power only. And the intervening Powers lost no time in demonstrating the fact, France taking the lead. Within two months of the revision of the treaty of Shimonoseki the French Minister in Peking compelled China to sign a treaty granting to France large territorial concessions on which she had long had her eye, with commercial privileges never before granted to any Power. But the stipulations of the French convention were in open conflict with those of an existing treaty with this country, inasmuch as they gave to France a portion of the Shan States, which had been expressly reserved as a neutral zone in the treaty between China and Great Britain. The British Minister, pointing this out before the French treaty was concluded, protested against its signature. The Ministers of the Yamên admitted the justice of his contention, nor can it be said the protest was unheeded. With the Yamên it was a question solely of the balance of power, and feeling that the French force was the heaviest in the scale, they yielded to that and signed the treaty with France in direct violation of that which they had previously signed with Great Britain. As if to leave no ambiguity as to the true significance of the change of status which had come over China, the Russian Minister on the day following made a formal visit to the Tsungli-Yamên, with more than the customary display, to congratulate the Chinese Ministers on what they had done, and to assure them of the approval of his Government.
This novel application of the law of force threw out of gear the whole system of Chinese national engagements, and was quite incompatible with normal diplomatic relations. Formerly the struggle had lain between China and all the Powers, her obligations to whom were observed in proportion to the amount of coercion applied by, or to be apprehended from, each. From this resulted a chronic demand for the fulfilment of agreements, and constant reclamations for non-fulfilment. But now the native reluctance to observe treaties was potentially reinforced by the action of foreign Powers in not only condoning, but explicitly insisting upon, China's violating her engagements.
It may be that this species of force majeure was not wholly unwelcome to the Chinese. It certainly widened the field for their favourite tactics of playing off one foreign Power against another. A better answer than heretofore was now available to all demands and remonstrances. "We should for our part be most happy to do as you desire, but—what would Russia say, what would France say?" Thus diplomacy in China at once degenerated into a "tug of war" contest, China herself being merely the rope which was pulled. She was virtually ruled out of the active management of her own affairs and became the corpus vile for rival aggressors.
Aggression sometimes assumed strange forms. One of the first which the treaty of peace with Japan developed was a remarkable competition in lending money to the Chinese. The indemnities to be paid to Japan were heavy, and it was obvious that China must borrow. But before she had time to take any step in that direction money was being thrust upon her. First in the ranks were English loan-mongers, who had had some experience in the business. Their negotiations were slow and halting; and when they had at last concluded a contract it was only to be told that Russia objected to the transaction, and required that China should borrow from French capitalists, who were willing to lend on the guarantee of Russia. The Chinese Government were absolutely passive, not willingly, but of necessity; they had not asked for the guarantee which Russia volunteered, and were quite willing to accept the loan of £16,000,000 sterling on the English terms. But Russia simply insisted on their taking the French money, under an ominous threat, while she herself stood security for the solvency of China, thereby assuming the position of first mortgagee on the revenues of that empire. That accomplished, Russia stipulated that China should contract no further loan for a period of six months.
The precedent set by Russia and France of ignoring the Government of China as an efficient factor in negotiations respecting her territory or her obligations was followed to the letter by Germany when in November 1897 she took possession of the most important naval harbour on the Chinese coast, with an adequate hinterland, carrying elastic rights extending over an immense area of country. Admiral von Diedrichs reduced the question of the acquisition to its very simplest expression. "Common-sense," he submitted to the Chinese commandant, "must tell you on which side the superior force lies, and therefore you would be wise to make way for me without resistance." With the prize in her hands, Germany next demanded a formal title to what she had seized, and instead of giving the German Minister his passports the Chinese Government granted the request.
In this unceremonious manner was the new status of China embodied in monumental facts. She was the common victim, having no power to bind or loose save in accordance with the dictates of her masters. The Chinese Government seemed to have abdicated sovereign functions.
After France and Germany it was Russia's turn to give tangible evidence of the real ascendancy she had gained over the Chinese Imperial Government. Hers was the only true mastery. The others might wrest provinces and extort concessions from a prostrate Government, but Russia alone reached the cerebral centre and controlled—so far as outward effect went—the volition of the organism. Negotiations, partly revealed in 1895, showed conclusively the scope and direction of her Chinese policy. It was profound and practical, continuing on the lines that had proved so successful in the past. The basis of it was an ostensible friendship for China, out of which grew a protective alliance, and the peculiar kind of partnership which had constituted the intermediate stage in the previous great territorial acquisitions of Russia. The joint right of the two Powers—to the exclusion of all others—to navigate the Amur and the Songari, and the joint possession of the Usuri territory—"details to be hereafter settled"—was now to be applied to the coast and harbours of Liao-tung, of which Russia was to have the use, afterwards defined in a treaty as the "usufruct." The gentlest methods were to be used, and so far as mere phrases were concerned, a matter on which the Chinese always were punctilious, the utmost consideration for their feelings was to be shown. Russia had two immediate objects in view, both of cardinal importance to her. The first was to obtain a terminus for the Great Siberian Railway more southerly than Vladivostock, which could only be obtained in Korean or Chinese territory. The second—the necessary corollary of the first—was to bring the territory through which the railway should run within the Russian administration. The sanction of China to a branch of the Siberian Railway being carried through Manchuria to a terminus on the Liao-tung littoral was formally given in conferences between Li Hung-chang and the Czar on the occasion of the coronation at Moscow in 1896. The details were afterwards developed in a way of which it is probable the Chinese Government had little foresight; but it would have made no difference, for to Russia nothing could be denied.
Out of these comprehensive projects of Russia—projects which belonged to the very highest order of imperial statecraft—arose a strange unequal duel between Russian and British diplomacy, which has also left its mark on history. Her Majesty's Government and their agents abroad having been found wanting in the matter of information during the upheaval of the Far East, it appeared to be their rôle to ignore and deny the facts upon which other Powers were acting. In particular the whole Russian scheme of utilising Chinese territory and controlling the Chinese Government was discredited with considerable vehemence. The consequence of this attitude of scepticism was that whatever Great Britain might resolve to do must be done in the dark. Assured by their agents in the Far East that the bay of Kiaochow was worthless, the British Government satisfied themselves that Germany had made a poor bargain in taking it. Dismissing as a phantasy the whole string of facts concerning Russia's plans, the British Government exposed themselves to collision with those plans, and received in consequence a series of diplomatic humiliations, entailing upon the country permanent disadvantages of a most substantial kind. Towards the end of 1898, soon after the German seizure of Kiaochow, a harbour which had also proved a convenient winter rendezvous for the Russian fleet, the announcement came from China that the latter had received permission from the Chinese Government to winter at Port Arthur on the opposite coast of Liao-tung. Thereupon a discussion was raised between London and St Petersburg concerning the prospective designs of Russia. This discussion was stamped from its origin with futility by previous communications with the Russian Government, the purport of which was inferred from a speech by Mr Balfour in February 1896. On that occasion he declared that the British Government would not only not oppose, but would hail with satisfaction, the acquisition by Russia of an ice-free port in the Pacific. As her Majesty's Government held Russia to the pledge she gave in 1886 to respect the integrity of the Korean coast, it followed that the ice-free harbour contemplated by Mr Balfour could only be in Chinese territory, which, as affecting the dominating power of Russia in the Far East, was greatly in advance of what the occupation of a Korean harbour would have been. Korea had been safe-guarded from encroachment because it was the stepping-stone to China, but the Russian lodgment on the inner waters of China itself deprived Korea of most of its strategical value. Hence Russia kept silence when Mr Curzon stated in Parliament that the pledge held good which preserved the integrity of Korea, a pledge which had lost its significance. This acquiescence in Russia's taking an ice-free port on the Chinese coast was in direct contradiction to other no less authoritative statements of the British Government. As, for instance, the resolution passed by the House of Commons, and accepted by the Government, pledging them to maintain the integrity of China, followed by the statement by the Under Secretary of State that the Liao-tung coast with its harbours constituted an integral part of the Chinese dominions. It is obvious that this confusion arose either from lack of information or lack of interest in the subject, coupled in either case with absent-mindedness on the part of the British Government. But these inconsistencies of the members of the British Government made no difference to the steady prosecution of the Russian plans, which were now developed with great rapidity. These pretensions were signalised by two memorable incidents, following each other so closely as to be practically simultaneous, in January 1898. The first was a new loan to the Chinese under negotiation by British financiers, to assist which her Majesty's Government was strongly urged by the China merchants to give its guarantee to the lenders as Russia had done in the case of the previous loan. On being asked by the Foreign Office what securities it would be proper to demand from the Chinese Government as the equivalent of such British guarantee, the British Minister at Peking replied that one of the conditions should be the opening of Talien-wan as a treaty port by the Chinese Government. Whether he had considered in what way this concession was to benefit the position of Great Britain was not disclosed. The proposal was promptly vetoed by the Russian Government, whose ambassador in London urged strongly that "if we insisted on making Talien-wan an open port we should be encroaching on the Russian sphere of influence, and denying her in future that right to the use of Port Arthur to which the progress of events had given her a claim,"—adding, that without having any designs on the territory, "it was generally admitted that Russia might claim a commercial débouché upon the open sea, and that in order to enjoy that advantage fully she ought to be at liberty to make such arrangements with China as she could obtain with respect to the commercial régime which was to prevail there."
The second incident was that two British war-vessels which were anchored in Port Arthur—where, of course, they had the same right to be as any other foreign man-of-war—"made a bad impression" on the Russian Government, and formed the subject of complaint to the British Secretary of State. While denying the right of Russia to comment on the movements of British ships in Chinese waters, Lord Salisbury nevertheless allowed the vessels in question to depart, a movement which was reported with much colour of truth in Peking and St Petersburg as having been made by the order of Russia.