The assassination of the Korean Queen under the auspices of Viscount Miura, and the universal horror excited by the act, rendered it politic for Japan to keep out of sight till the storm which threatened to wreck her prestige in Korea had blown over. This temporary retirement was arranged with consummate skill. There were no violent dislocations. The garrisons which were to be withdrawn quietly slipped away, and were replaced by guards only sufficient for the protection of the Japanese Legation, the Japanese telegraph, and other property. The greater number of the Japanese in Korean Government employment fell naturally out of it as their contracts expired, and quietly retired from the country. Ministers of experience, proved ability, and courtesy of demeanor, have succeeded to the post once occupied by Mr. Otori and Viscount Miura. There has been scarcely any recent interference with Korean affairs, and the Japanese colonists who were much given to bullying and blustering are on greatly improved behavior, the most objectionable among them having been recalled by orders from home. Diplomatically, Japan has carefully avoided friction with the Korean Government and the representatives of the other Powers. But to infer from this that she has abandoned her claims, or has swerved from her determination to make her patronage essential to the well-being of Korea would be a grave mistake.
It has been said that whatever Japan lost in Korea Russia gained. It is true that the King in his terror and apprehension threw himself upon the protection of the Russian Minister, and remained for more than a year under the shelter of the Russian flag, and that at his request a Russian Military Commission arrived to reorganize and drill the Korean army, that Russia presented 3,000 Berdan rifles to Korea, that a Russian financier spent the autumn of 1896 in Seoul investigating the financial resources and prospects of the country, and that the King, warned by disastrous experiences of betrayal, prefers to trust his personal safety to his proximity to the Russian military quarters.
But “Russian Ascendency,” in the sense of “Control” in which Japanese ascendency is to be understood, has never existed. The Russian Minister used the undoubtedly influential position which circumstances gave him with unexampled moderation, and only brought his influence to bear on the King in cases of grave misrule. The influence of Russia, however, grew quietly and naturally, with little of external manifestation, up to March, 1897, when the publication of a treaty, concluded ten months before between Russia and Japan,[61] caused something of a revulsion of feeling in favor of the latter country, and Russia has been slowly losing ground. Her policy is too pacific to allow of a quarrel with Japan, and a quarrel would be the inevitable result of any present attempt at dictatorship in Korea. So far, she has pursued a strictly opportunist policy, taking no steps except those which have been forced upon her; and even if the Korean pear were ready to drop into her mouth, I greatly doubt if she would shake the tree.
At all events, Russia let the opportunity of obtaining ascendency in Korea go by. It is very likely that she never desired it. It may be quite incompatible with other aims, at which we can only guess. At the same time, the influence of Japan is quietly and steadily increasing. Certainly the great object of the triple intervention in the treaty negotiations in Shimonoseki was to prevent Japan from gaining a foothold on the mainland of the Asiatic Continent; but it does not seem altogether impossible that, by playing a waiting game and profiting by previous mistakes, she, without assuming a formal protectorate, may be able to add, for all practical purposes of commerce and emigration, a mainland province to her Empire. Forecasts are dangerous things,[62] but it is safe to say that if Russia, not content with such quiet, military developments as may be in prospect, were to manifest any aggressive designs on Korea, Japan is powerful enough to put a brake on the wheel! Korea, however, is incapable of standing alone, and unless so difficult a matter as a joint protectorate could be arranged, she must be under the tutelage of either Japan or Russia.
If Russia were to acquire an actual supremacy, the usual result would follow. Preferential duties and other imposts would practically make an end of British trade in Korea with all its large potentialities. The effacement of British political influence has been effected chiefly by a policy of laissez-faire, which has produced on the Korean mind the double impression of indifference and feebleness, to which the dubious and hazy diplomatic relationship naturally contributes. If England has no contingent interest in the political future of a country rich in undeveloped resources and valuable harbors, and whose possession by a hostile Power might be a serious peril to her interests in the Far East, her policy during the last few years has been a sure method of evidencing her unconcern.
Though we may have abandoned any political interest in Korea, the future of British trade in the country remains an important question. Such influence as England possesses, being exercised through a non-official channel, and therefore necessarily indirect, is owing to the abilities, force, and diplomatic tact of Mr. M’Leavy Brown, the Chief Commissioner of Customs, formerly of H.B.M.’s Chinese Consular Service. So long as he is in control at the capital, and such upright and able men as Mr. Hunt, Mr. Oiesen, and Mr. Osborne are Commissioners at the treaty ports (Appendix D), so long will England be commercially important in Korean estimation.
The Customs revenue, always increasing, and collected at a cost of 10 per cent. only, is the backbone of Korean finance; and everywhere the ability and integrity of the administration give the Commissioners an influence which is necessarily in favor of England, and which produces an impression even on corrupt Korean officialism. That this service should remain in our hands is of the utmost practical importance. In the days of Japanese ascendency there was a great desire to upset the present arrangement, but it was frustrated by the tact and firmness of the Chief Commissioner. The next danger is that it should pass into Russian hands, which would be a severe blow to our prestige and interests. Some of the leading Russian papers are agitating this question, and the Novoie Vremia of 9th September, 1897, in writing of the opening of the ports of Mok-po and Chi-nam-po to foreign trade, says:—“These encroachments are chiefly due to the cleverness of the British officials who are at the head of the Financial and Customs Departments of the Korean administration.” It adds, “If Russia tolerates any further increase in this policy ... Great Britain will convert the country into one of her best markets.” The Novoie Vremia goes on to urge “the Russian Government to exercise, before it is too late, a more searching surveillance than at present, to take steps to reduce the number of British officials in the Korean Government (the Customs), and to compel Japan to withdraw what are practically the military garrisons which she has established in Korea.”
Such, in brief outline, is the position of political affairs in Korea at the close of 1897. Her long and close political connection with China is severed; she has received from Japan a gift of independence which she knows not how to use; England, for reasons which may be guessed at, has withdrawn from any active participation in her affairs; the other European Powers have no interests to safeguard in that quarter; and her integrity and independence are at the mercy of the most patient and the most ambitious of Empires, whose interests in the Far East are conflicting, if not hostile.
It is with great regret that I take leave of Korea, with Russia and Japan facing each other across her destinies. The distaste I felt for the country at first passed into an interest which is almost affection, and on no previous journey have I made dearer and kinder friends, or those from whom I parted more regretfully. I saw the last of Seoul in snow in the blue and violet atmosphere of one of the loveliest of her winter mornings, and the following day left Chemulpo in a north wind of merciless severity in the little Government steamer Hyenik for Shanghai, where the quaint Korean flag excited much interest and questioning as she steamed slowly up the river.
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