Empress Dowager Cixi: The Concubine Who Launched Modern China (55 page)

At the time, the idea of a constitutional monarchy was very much in the air and some newspapers were promoting it. Among them was the mainstream paper in Tianjin, the
Ta Kung Pao
, whose editor was a Manchu who had married an Aisin-Gioro. As a member of the royal family, the editor’s wife was in and out of the court and wrote a lively column about court life. (It is an indication of Cixi’s tolerance that the editor was a Catholic, and the paper professed allegiance to Emperor Guangxu and urged Cixi to retire.) An ‘Opinion’
article in 1903 remarked that ‘the process of political reform has always gone from absolute monarchy to constitutional monarchy and then on to democracy . . . If we want to reform China’s political system, a constitutional monarchy is our only route.’ In April 1905, the newspaper invited essays on the theme ‘What must we do most urgently to revive China?’ Many contributors contended that they must ‘end autocracy and build a constitutional monarchy’. Endorsing this view and addressing other proposed priorities like ‘developing industry, commerce and education’, an editorial argued that ‘without changing our political system, all these, even if developed, would not have a solid foundation to rest on, and there would still be the chasm between the ruling and the ruled . . .’ In reaching her decision, Cixi may well have taken heed of press comment.

On 16 July 1905, Cixi announced that a Commission would be sent to a number of Western countries to ‘
study their political systems’. She stressed to the Commissioners that their job was to study how the different parliamentary governments were organised, ‘so we can put a suitable system into practice when you come back’. By seizing the initiative and commencing the mammoth task ‘
from the apex of the pyramid’, as a contemporary Western observer put it, Cixi was able to protect the interests of her dynasty. Heading the Commission was Duke Zaize, a direct descendant of the Aisin-Gioro family, who was married to another daughter of Cixi’s brother, Duke Guixiang. He and other grandees involved in the project would ensure that no harm would come to the Manchus in the new system. They would also help Cixi to convince other Manchus, who feared for their future.

The Commission was divided into two groups, and would travel to Britain, France, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Austria, Russia, Holland, Belgium, Switzerland and Italy, as well as Japan and America. On 24 September, Duke Zaize and his large entourage of carefully selected assistants boarded a train at Beijing railway station to begin their journey. At that moment, Wu Yue, a Republican dedicated to overthrowing the Manchu dynasty, detonated a bomb in the duke’s carriage, wounding him and more than a dozen other passengers. Three were killed, including the bomber himself. Wu Yue was China’s first suicide bomber. Cixi, in tears when she comforted members of the Commission, reaffirmed her determination to continue the enterprise. The men departed later that year, having been told that they carried her ‘
high hopes’ with them. While they were away, a Constitution Office was set up to research the different kinds of parliamentary monarchy, with the goal of devising the constitution best suited to China.

The Commissioners returned from their travels in summer 1906. Knowing how eagerly the empress dowager was waiting,
Duke Zaize went straight from the train station to the Summer Palace and presented his application for an audience. Cixi saw him at the crack of dawn the following morning, and the audience lasted for two hours. In addition to seeing him again, she had audiences with other Commissioners. They wrote reports, which extended over many dozens of volumes and were presented to the Constitution Office. In an
epoch-making proclamation on 1 September 1906, in her own name, Empress Dowager Cixi announced her goal of establishing a constitutional monarchy, with an elected parliament, which would replace the existing absolute monarchy. Western countries, she said, were rich and strong because of this political system, in which ‘the public participate in state affairs’ and ‘the creation and spending of the country’s wealth, together with the planning and execution of its political affairs, are open to all’. She made it clear that, in the Chinese version, ‘the executive power resides with the court, while the public has its say in state affairs’. She asked the population to ‘be public spirited, pursue the road of evolution’ and make the transition in an ‘orderly, conservative and peaceful manner’. She bid them strive to become ‘qualified citizens’: the people were now ‘citizens of the country’:
guo-min
.

The proclamation generated tremendous waves. Newspapers printed special editions devoted to the subject. When he read about it in Japan,
Liang Qichao, Wild Fox Kang’s closest colleague, felt that a new epoch had arrived and immediately set about organising a political party – one of many political organisations that began to spring up. Cixi’s government engaged in a huge amount of preparatory work: drafting laws, spreading educational opportunities, informing the public about the new political system, founding the police and training them in how to keep order the modern way, and so on. Two years later, on 27 August 1908, a
draft outline of the constitution was published with Cixi’s endorsement. This historic document combined the political traditions of the East and the West. Continuing the age-old oriental custom, it gave real political power to the monarch, who would still head the government and retain the final say. Parliament would draw up laws and proposals, but all were subject to the approval of the monarch, who would then issue them. The inviolable power of the throne was stressed in the draft outline, not least through its opening line: ‘The Qing dynasty shall rule over the Qing empire for ever, and shall be honoured through all ages.’ Drawing from Western practices, the people were guaranteed a number of fundamental rights, including the ‘freedoms of speech, writing, publication, assembly and association’ – and the right to be ‘members of parliament as long as they were qualified by law’. A parliament was to be founded, where elected representatives of the people would have a significant say in state affairs, including the budget. The draft outline omitted to say what would happen in the inevitable event of a clash between the throne and parliament. But the drafters’ letter to Cixi indicated a solution: ‘the monarch and the people would both make concessions’.

A Preliminary Assembly,
Zi-zheng-yuan
, had been set up in 1907 to act as a transitional parliament. It spent ten months working out a draft regulation for the founding of the
future parliament, including the composition of its members. The document was approved and announced by Cixi on 8 July 1908. Roughly half of the members would sit in an Upper House and would be appointed by the throne from these sections of society: Manchu princes; Manchu and Han aristocrats; Mongolian, Tibetan and Hui (Muslim) aristocrats; medium-rank officials, eminent scholars and the highest taxpayers. The other half, in the Lower House, would be elected by members of the Provincial Assemblies, which were being set up across China, and whose members would themselves be directly elected by the provinces’ citizens. A
draft Electoral Regulation, for the election of the Provincial Assemblies, was made public by Cixi with her endorsement on 22 July 1908.

In this great historical document,
the franchise was based on contemporary Western practice. In Britain, for instance, the vote was extended to adult males who owned property or paid at least ten pounds in rent a year, so the electorate comprised about 60 per cent of the British adult male population. For the Chinese electorate (male and over twenty-five), the property qualification was defined as owning 5,000 yuan in business capital or property. Alternative qualifications were added: men who had run public projects for more than three years with distinction; graduates of modern secondary schools or higher institutions; literati from the old educational system; and so on. All these people could vote, even if they were poor and without property. Mentioning their deviation from the current Western models, the writers of the Regulation argued that if property-owning were the sole qualification, people would be encouraged only to seek profit and wealth.

The eligibility of parliamentary candidates also largely followed Western practice, except that they had to be at least thirty years old (as in Japan), which, according to Confucius, was the age of full maturity. One group of men excluded from standing was unique to China: primary school teachers. The argument was that they, of all people, bore the responsibility for training citizens. Their energy must therefore be totally devoted to this worthiest cause. Among those disqualified from voting (and standing) were officials of the province and their advisers, as they were the administrators, who had to be separated from the legislators in parliament, in order to prevent corruption. Military men were also ruled out, because the army must not be involved in politics.

Cixi approved the Electoral Regulation and
asked for a timetable to be set for elections and the calling of parliament. Prince Ching, head of the Grand Council, who oversaw the drafting of the Regulation, argued
against a specific schedule. Their task was unprecedented and daunting, and unforeseen problems were bound to emerge, he advised – not least the danger of leaving open loopholes that would enable bad characters to seize power. Cixi vetoed Prince Ching’s recommendation. Without a time frame, there would be no momentum and the whole thing might not even happen. Many
officials feared and opposed this particular change, finding it impracticable, and unthinkable, in so vast and populous a country, where levels of education were so low. Without a deadline they would simply be paying lip service. Only a timetable could spur them on and bring the venture to fruition.

A
nine-year timetable was drawn up and endorsed, together with a list of work to be done and objectives to be achieved in each of the years. The list included preparations for the elections; law-making; a census; a taxation programme – and the specification of the rights, duties and financing of the throne. Literacy was a prominent issue. The percentage of the population who could read and write (in Chinese) at the most elementary level at the time was below 1 per cent. The writing of new textbooks, together with a drive for modern education, would begin in the first year. By the end of the seventh year, 1 per cent of the population must qualify as ‘literate’, and by the end of the ninth the target was 5 per cent. The fulfilment of each objective was made the responsibility of a specific ministry, and Cixi had the
timetable inscribed on plaques and hung in government offices. In her decree she invoked
‘conscience’ and the ‘omnipotent Heaven’ to warn sluggish officials. Her passion and determination were in no doubt. If all went according to plan, in the ninth year after 1908 millions upon millions of Chinese would be able to vote. (Voters in Britain in 1908 numbered more than seven million.) The Chinese would for the first time in their history have a say in state affairs.
W. A. P. Martin, the American missionary who had spent decades in China, exclaimed, ‘What a commotion will the ballot-box excite! How suddenly will it arouse the dormant intellect of a brainy race!’

In Cixi’s version of constitutional monarchy, the Chinese electorate did not have the same power as their Western counterparts. But she was bringing the country out of unquestionable autocracy and opening the business of government to the ordinary people – citizens, as they were now called. She was restricting her own power and introducing a negotiating forum into Chinese politics, where the monarch and the representatives of the people, including different interest groups, would confer, bargain and, doubtless, fight verbal battles. While Cixi lived, given her sense of fairness and her penchant for consensus, there was every chance that the wish of the people would continue to gain ground.

Conceding that ‘it is premature to speculate’ on the outcome of the empress dowager’s initiative, Martin had faith in her. ‘During her lifetime she could be counted on to carry forward the cause she had so ardently espoused. She grasped the reins with a firm hand; and her courage was such that she did not hesitate to drive the chariot of state over many a new and untried road.’ All in all, he remarked: ‘It is little more than eight years since the restoration, as the return of the Court in January, 1902, may be termed. In this period, it is safe to assert that more sweeping reforms have been decreed in China than were ever enacted in a half-century by any other country, if one except Japan, whose example the Chinese profess to follow, and France, in the Revolution, of which Macaulay remarks that “they changed everything – from the rites of religion to the fashion of a shoe-buckle.”’

Cixi’s ‘important innovations or ameliorations’, wrote Martin, went all the way back to the moment she seized power, and they ‘made the reign of the Empress Dowager the most brilliant in the history of the Empire. The last eight years have been uncommonly prolific of reforms; but the tide began to turn after the peace of Peking in 1860. Since that date every step in the adoption of modern methods was taken during the regency of that remarkable woman, which dated from 1861 to 1908.’ Out of those forty-seven years, Cixi effectively ruled for thirty-six (her son for two and her adopted son for nine). Given how much she had achieved during her period in power, and the colossal odds she had faced – and overcome – it does not seem far-fetched to expect that suffrage would have been introduced into China in 1916, if the empress dowager had lived.

30 Coping with Insurgents, Assassins and the Japanese (1902–8)

A CONTEMPORARY HAN
official remarked that Cixi’s revolution was ‘
advantageous for China, but hugely disadvantageous for the Manchu government’. Indeed, many Manchus were anxious about what was happening. It was only Cixi’s authority that made them put their faith, and fate, in her hands. She herself was seeking to preserve her dynasty – not least by introducing her version of constitutional monarchy. But in the end, the exclusively Manchu throne proved to be her Achilles heel. Although she took many steps to dismantle Han–Manchu segregation, she wished the throne to remain Manchu. The decree that lifted the ban on intermarriage in 1902 had added that the imperial consorts should still only be chosen from among the Manchus (and the Mongols). There were signs that she would eventually bow to the inevitability of an ethnically inclusive throne, but she never quite reached that point in her lifetime.