An American Diplomat in China

by Paul S. Reinsch

The Tuchun of Shantung was bulky, coarse-looking. I had some idea of his views on representative government from his inaugural address to the Shantung Assembly. "Gentlemen," the Tuchun said with genial frankness, "you resemble birds who are in a large cage together. If you behave well, and sing songs that are pleasing, we shall feed you; otherwise, you shall have to go without food."

Several of the Tuchuns called on me by appointment, and later I gave them a formal reception, at which I saw all who had come to Peking, observed their personalities, and tried to fathom the source of their personal prominence and power. I talked with them individually and in groups, chiefly about the progress of the war and the relative strength of the combatants. My guests were full of smiles and good cheer, particularly did the Tuchun of Fukien radiate joy. In their sociability they were true Chinese, and here, where they had been received with the military honours due to their position and in the spirit of hospitality, they could show themselves in a more amiable light than when maintaining their power in their provinces. To a brief speech of welcome which I made when they had all arrived General Hsu Shu-cheng replied with a most emphatic expression of friendship for America.

That so many of these governors should have risen from the lowliest position was indeed strong evidence of the underlying democracy of Chinese life. But that a mere handful of men should wield such power, each in his province, did not bespeak strength in representative government.

Some of the military commanders were men of education, although most of them had risen from very modest surroundings: Yen Hsi-shan, of Shansi; Chu Jui, of Chekiang; Tang Chi-yao, of Yunnan; Chen Kuang-yuan, of Kiangsi; Ni Tze-chung, of Anhwei; Li Shun, of Nanking, a fisherman's son; Li Ho-chi of Fukien, Tien Chung-yu of Kalgan, both of middle-class families—all these were fair scholars. General Wu Pei-fu, who rose from the post of a private in the Chino-Japanese War, had through great intelligence and industry acquired a good education, as likewise had General Feng Yu-hsiang; both of these generals professed the Christian religion. President Feng Kuo-chang came of a poor family, and as a young man played a fiddle in a small local theatre.

Among the other Tuchuns were many to whom the Chinese applied the proverb: "A good man will never become a soldier." These men, indeed, deserve credit for having risen from their original state as coolies, bandits, or horse-thieves, but they often owe their prominence to qualities which by no means make for the good of the state. Chang Tso-lin, the Viceroy of Manchuria, commenced his career as a bandit; he was pardoned by Chao Er-shun, and became a government officer. Chang Huai-chi was a coolie, and never got much education. Tsao Kun, of Chihli, was a huckster. Wang Chan-yuan was a hostler. The trio, Chang Hsun, Lu Yung-ting, and Mu Yung-hsing, headed the so-called Black Flag Band; at one time the partners put up fifty thousand taels to enable Chang Hsun to buy himself an office and become respectable. But he spent it all in high living. With the antecedents of some of these men one marvels not only at the position they have acquired, but at the personal polish and air of refinement of many of them.

All of them dealt with political power as a commodity, secured through the use of money and soldiers. They were somewhat like the condottieri of the Italian renaissance, looking ahead only to the goal of their personal ambition for wealth and power. Even among these militarists, however, there were those who gave some attention to matters of public policy, and the idea of national welfare and unity had begun to dawn upon their consciousness. Moreover, in them I felt a mixture of the old and the new. They had suddenly come into great power, thought in terms of airplanes and modern armaments, but had as yet few other modern ideas to inspire their action with anything beyond personal motives. In their human qualities, however, several of them excelled; and some, even, showed a real spirit of public service and ability as administrators.

The Japanese Government was still trying to get China into the war, and its minister called on President Li to urge it. I talked on May 9th with the President, who said that he favoured a declaration of war provided parliament was not overridden in the process. Then I saw the Premier. "If parliament is obstinate," General Tuan said bluntly, "it will be dissolved."

I told him it would make a very bad impression in the United States and with other Western powers if parliament were ignored in so important a matter. I knew that parliament did not oppose declaring war, but desired to control the war policy. "But," the Premier urged, "the opposition of parliament disregards national interests. It desires merely to secure partisan advantage." Tuan discussed the attitude of Japan. "The Japanese have assured me," he declared, "that if I follow a strong policy I may count on their support. Now circumstances force the Chinese Government to be friendly to Japan. Of course, I will not give up any valuable rights to anybody, and I will strengthen China in every way so that resistance may be offered to any attempted injustice."

Ironically, he asked whether confidence could be placed in the southern leaders of the Kuo Min Tang. "I have proof," he continued, "that both Sun Yat-sen and Tsen Liang-kuang have given written assurances to the Japanese Consul-General at Shanghai that if either of them becomes President of China he will conclude a treaty granting to Japan rights of supervision of military and administrative affairs more extensive than those sought in Group V of the twenty-one demands." So each party believed the worst of the other.

Events were tending to a climax. The Government was demoralized. Doctor Chen was in prison; Mr. Li Ching-hsi, a nephew of Li Hung-chang, who was to take Chen's place, would not assume office while affairs remained so unsettled. The Ministry of Communications was in charge of an underling. The Minister of Education, who also acted as Minister of the Interior, was seriously ill. The Kuo Min Tang ministers had lost their influence with their party in parliament because of their failure effectively to oppose the Tuchuns' policy. It was believed that the Tuchuns, with the followers of General Tuan, were planning a coup against Parliament.