An American Diplomat in China

by Paul S. Reinsch

Mr. Carey, also, did not personally believe in much legal refinement, but bowed to the mature judgment of the profession. He had won his way from the ranks, and his Irish originality had not been befogged with theoretical discussion. He immediately felt at home with the frank and human Chinese, and constantly had many of them at his house, where they partook of true American hospitality and shared in frolics of dancing and poker. The Chinese are fond of this American game, in which human nature plays so large a part; the impassiveness of their countenance lends itself admirably to the tactics of poker. It was amusing to hear Liang Shih-yi, who otherwise spoke not a word of English, enunciate from behind a pile of chips, in staccato tones: "Full house,"—"Two pair." This eminent financier was a worthy match for any poker expert.

Mr. Carey brought his unwarped intelligence to bear with great freshness on Chinese affairs, which he discussed in the language of an American contractor and business man who reduced everything to terms of getting something done. To observe how a man of his training, instincts, and tradition, so utterly different from the Chinese, remained in constant, intimate intercourse and joyous mutual understanding with them, made one believe that there must be real bonds of sympathy between Americans and the Chinese. Mr. Carey abbreviated many of the Chinese names, thus making them far more pronounceable. Mr. Chen Pan-ping, the Minister of Agriculture, thus became Ping-pong; the Secretary of State, Hsu Shih-chang, was Susie.

When the preliminary contract for the Grand Canal had been signed, Mr. Carey and all his associates departed for Shantung and Kiangsu under the guidance of Mr. Pan Fu, a young capitalist and official from Shantung Province, who was anxious to have the constructive work begun early.

A mistake made by Americans in other parts of the world was not avoided in China. Several of the new organizations that came in at this time and during the war made their entry with a considerable blare of trumpets and pounding of gongs, announcing the millions that were backing them and describing the manner in which they would rip things up generally when they got started. As a great part of international business is diplomacy, such methods of blatant advertisement are not best calculated to facilitate the early operations of a new enterprise. They raise expectations of "easy money" in the people dealt with, and they engender cynicism and rock-ribbed opposition on the part of competitors. Great enterprises in foreign trade are usually built up with quieter methods. My observations on this score by no means refer to all new American enterprise in China, but there was enough of this sort of brass-band work to give people an idea that it was the approved method of American entry into foreign markets. The subsequent flattening out of several of these loudly heralded ventures did not help matters.

I had on February 29th a long interview with Dr. Jeme Tien-yow, an American-educated engineer, who had won repute through the survey and construction of the Peking-Kalgan Railway, of which he was chief engineer. He was looked upon as a living example of what the Chinese could do for themselves in engineering. At this time he was managing director of the Hukuang railways. I had had extensive correspondence with him, directly and through the Consul-General at Hankow with respect to the engineering standards to be applied on his lines, as it was difficult to find a middle ground between the American and British manufacturers and those of other nations concerned. Doctor Jeme was on the whole favourable to America, but clung to European standards, much to the disadvantage of American equipment. We went over all the disputed points with regard to solid cast wheels or tread wheels, shapes of box cars, types of engines, and so on—a curiously technical conversation for a foreign minister to hold with a railway director as a matter of official business. Doctor Jeme was slow, undemonstrative, quite willing to discuss, but not ready to yield any point in which he thoroughly believed. The argument cleared up some matters and left others the subject of continued correspondence.

I was trying to induce the American group to take the lead in furnishing funds so that the building of the Szechuan line of the Hukuang railways could be undertaken. I also hoped that, notwithstanding the war, the British and French groups might continue to furnish enough funds to complete the line from Hankow to Canton.

Doubtless the greatest national need of China was the completion of these trunk lines, both to connect the north and south of the country, and to open a land route to Szechuan Province, which could then be reached only by boat on the Yangtse, subject to all contingencies of an uncertain and dangerous navigation. It should not have required argument to induce the capitalists to advance money for a short railway which would open an inland empire of forty millions of people, especially when they had already bound themselves by contract to furnish the funds.

The $30,000,000 originally advanced had been spent, without more than two hundred miles of actual construction to show for the vast sum. This was due partly to the need of buying out earlier Chinese companies at extravagant figures, but also in large part to the cumbersome and expensive organization of this international enterprise. Only by actually finishing one of these basically important lines and putting it in operation could the money already expended be made to count.

At home the group seemed favourable to going ahead to the completion of the work. Mr. Willard Straight in February went to London to seek the consent of the British and French partners. But beyond settling some minor details about alignments no definite result was secured. Chinese development was blocked disastrously through this failure to complete the existing contracts. In comparison with the amounts spent in Europe by America, the cost of entirely carrying out this enormously important work would have been infinitesimal; a thousandth part of our war expense would have permanently changed the face of China.