Lion and Dragon in Northern China

by Sir Reginald Fleming Johnston

If the Weihaiwei Government deserves any commendation at all it is only for its acceptance of Confucian principles as the basis of administration. Confucianism, indeed, is the foundation of the civil law that is administered in the British Courts, Confucian customs are wherever possible upheld and enforced by the officials in their executive and judicial capacities, and it is by the recognition of Confucianism that the Government has been able to dismiss its armed force. Philostratus, about seventeen hundred years ago, wrote a book in which he tells us how Apollonius of Tyana was one day walking with his friend and disciple Damis when they met a small boy riding an enormous elephant. Damis expressed surprise at the ease and skill with which the youngster could control and guide so huge a beast; but Apollonius succeeded in convincing him that the credit was due not to the small boy's skill, but to the elephant's own docility and self-control. Should we be far wrong if we were to regard the people of Weihaiwei as the elephant and the local Government as the little boy that rode it? Perhaps, indeed, the parallel might be applied to British dependencies greater and more important than Weihaiwei.

The people of this corner of China are so ill-acquainted with the politics of their country—for there is no local newspaper, and if there were it would have but few readers—that they possess but the haziest notion of the probable destiny of their port in the event of its rendition to China and the creation of a modern Chinese navy. But indeed even Europeans could hardly enlighten them as to the probabilities of the future of Weihaiwei unless they were furnished with some clue to the solution of a much vaster problem—the future of China herself.

It is most earnestly to be hoped for China's own sake that her rulers do not seriously intend, at present, to place naval expansion in the forefront of their numerous schemes for reform. The subject is one upon which a section of the native Press has become somewhat enthusiastic, and the recent visit to England of a Chinese Naval Commission, under the leadership of an Imperial prince, naturally leads one to suppose that the Government is actually about to undertake the exceedingly difficult, dangerous and most costly work of securing for China a place among the Naval Powers. Many of China's Western sympathisers—especially those who have not lived in the East—probably regard this as the best possible proof that China is "pulling herself together" and is already far advanced on the road of regeneration. But there is hardly a man among China's foreign friends and sympathisers resident in the East who does not regard the navy scheme with dismay and disappointment. At some future date the Chinese may be fully justified in acquiring a great navy, but to build a really serviceable modern fleet at the present time is to invite a financial and political disaster of appalling magnitude. Even if the project comes to nothing it is a bad omen for the future that the Chinese Government should give it serious consideration at a time when all the energies and resources of the Empire should be devoted to internal reform and development. If China's responsible rulers do not realise the precarious position into which the country has drifted and the pressing necessity of administrative reform, they are not fit to hold the helm of the State. Common sense—if they are devoid of the higher qualities of statesmanship—should tell them that until the existing departments of Government have been thoroughly reorganised, corruption stamped out, and a spirit of loyalty and patriotism infused into all ranks of the Civil Service, the creation of a great spending department, such as an Admiralty or Naval Board, will merely add enormously to the financial burdens of the country without providing it with any reliable safeguard or protection in the event of war.

The unfortunate thing is that every warning of this kind received by China from her foreign friends is received by her with doubt and suspicion. She has realised that in one foreign war after another her military and naval weakness has led her—or has helped to lead her—through the dark shadows of defeat and humiliation, and she is intensely desirous of making such provision for her own protection that in future foreign wars she may not be foredoomed to disaster. When she is advised to content herself, for the present, with a small though well-equipped army and the most modest of coast-defence fleets, she suspects that her advisers wish to keep her in a state of perpetual weakness, so that they may continue to help themselves, from time to time, to treaty-ports, trade privileges, sites for churches and other missionary buildings, mining and railway concessions and cash-indemnities. At the present time the Power which she regards with a more friendly eye than any other is undoubtedly the United States of America—the only Great Power that has occupied none of her territory and the one against which she believes herself to have least reason for complaint. A few years ago many Western dwellers in China were inclined to predict that a powerful offensive and defensive alliance would be entered into by China and Japan, or that Japan would assume the hegemony of the Far East and having created a reformed China would draw upon the immense resources of that country to help her in establishing the supremacy of the Yellow Race in the Eastern hemisphere. One does not often hear this view expressed to-day, not only because of the repeated occurrence of serious disputes between the Chinese and Japanese Governments with reference to Manchurian and other problems, but also because it is now seen that the growth of a really strong and progressive China cannot be regarded without grave alarm by the far-seeing statesmen of Japan. The whole of the Japanese Empire, be it remembered, might be packed into one of China's provinces; the population of Japan is only about one-tenth that of China, and her natural resources are meagre compared with those of her huge neighbour. If the development of China proceeds on the same proportionate scale as that of Japan (and the Japanese themselves realise that this is no impossibility), it is difficult to see how Japan can reasonably hope to maintain her present international position.

We have heard a great deal lately about the momentous change in the European balance of power caused by the great advance of Germany in population and wealth: let us give a loose rein to our imaginations and suppose that the German Empire by skilful diplomacy or other means has further succeeded in annexing Austria, Denmark, Belgium and Holland, and by successful warfare has reduced France, Italy and Russia to a state of military imbecility. The position of Great Britain in these circumstances would, to say the least, be precarious and unenviable. If she did not become the "conscript appanage" of a "stronger Power" (to use the warning words of a British Cabinet Minister) she would at least be in a state of chronic peril, and subject to periodical panics that might end in the disorganisation of all industry and the demoralisation of the people. England's position as opposed to that of a vastly-magnified Germany would be similar in many ways to that which Japan would occupy relatively to a reformed, united and progressive China. Indeed, Japan would be in a worse case than England: for England has beaten one Napoleon, and, by again championing the cause of the down-trodden states of a heterogeneous Europe, she might conceivably beat another; whereas Japan would perhaps find herself faced not by a single powerful tyrant, under whose dominion vassal states writhed and groaned, but by a vast homogeneous people who through careful discipline and wise statesmanship had learned to sink provincial rivalries in a splendid realisation of racial solidarity and national patriotism.

Thus we need not be surprised if during the years of China's education and growth Japanese diplomacy in respect of Chinese affairs is to some extent characterised by petulance, hesitation, vacillation, and occasional displays of "bluff."[428] The policy of Japan must necessarily hover between two extremes: she does not wish to see China partitioned, for this would mean a strengthening of European influence in Asia which might be disastrous to Japanese interests; nor does she wish to see China become one of the Great Powers of the world, for this would inevitably lead to her own partial eclipse. China is now well aware of the delicate position of the Japanese Foreign Office, and it is on the whole improbable that she will readily consent to a Japanese alliance, even if she finds herself seriously menaced by the armed strength of Europe—happily a most unlikely event. She knows that the differences of opinion between Japan and the United States are not yet a forgotten chapter in international politics,[429] and this fact, perhaps, will make her all the readier to throw herself into the arms of the great American Republic. It is well to remember, however, that racial and industrial rivalries between China and America may some day become dangerously acute. Even now, while such rivalries loom no larger in the political firmament than a man's hand, there are whispers of storms to come. Meanwhile, China is beginning to realise that the most wide-awake of modern states does not propose to hamper her own freedom by watching over a nation that has hitherto been regarded as the most somnolent in the world. Even the strong matronly arms of the United States might grow weary of carrying about so bulky an infant as a China that only woke up in order to experience the luxurious delight of going to sleep again. The Chinese dimly understand that until they have raised themselves out of their present condition of political helplessness they cannot expect to get more from the United States or from any other Great Power than amiable professions of goodwill.

THE COMMISSIONER OF WEIHAIWEI (SIR J. H. STEWART LOCKHART, K.C.M.G.), WITH PRIEST AND ATTENDANTS AT THE TEMPLE OF CH'ÊNG SHAN.

But China has not yet fully grasped the truth that military and naval strength is not the only qualification—or the principal one—that will win the respect and support of the Western Powers. If she will honestly devote herself to the work of internal reform, to the thorough reorganisation of her administrative, judicial and fiscal systems, and to the loyal fulfilment of her treaty obligations, it is as certain as anything in politics can be that she will be doing far more for her own protection against foreign interference than if she were to construct a dozen coast-fortresses and naval bases and a fleet of thirty "Dreadnought" battleships. Her military weakness will not invite aggression: it might do so if she were friendless, and matched against a single ruthless strong Power or group of allied Powers, but the state of international politics at the present day is such that an orderly and progressive China is absolutely certain to find herself backed by at least two mighty friends the instant that her legitimate interests are wantonly attacked by any aggressive or adventurous foreign state.