Visualizing Modern China: Image, History, and Memory, 1750–Present
Page 8
I kept walking and came upon a house. There were women gathered in a nearby bamboo grove. I stopped for a rest and saw that the religionists had set up two tables and were calling people forward to register names. Everyone was given a scrip on which the phrase “Heaven and Earth conjoin and prosper” was stamped. A woman came out of the house, about 40 years old, her head wrapped in white cloth, and wearing a white jacket and trousers. When the women saw her they bowed deeply in reverence. After the registration was completed, they divided into groups, some fetching water, some gathering kindling, some cooking food, and some sewing flags.25
Peng’s short narrative associates this gathering of women with rebel activity. The color white marks the women as belonging to a White Lotus-type sect. The quotidian activities they engage in contrast with the religious ceremonies of registering names and receiving charms, an opposition which serves to highlight the relationship between women and heterodox activity.
The participation of women in the Taiping rebellion was a well-documented phenomenon. Women fought in female companies, held positions of rank in the army, and served the Taiping King in his court. For the elite observer, the sight of these “brazen” women only reinforced a negative impression of the rebel forces. One account noted the ferocity of rebel women hailing from Guangxi province, where the Taiping movement began. Their demeanor distinguished them from the women of central China, the author continued, among whom even the most coarse could not compare.26 This perceived difference was apparently highlighted by different cultural practices, as another description of Taiping women in Nanjing shows:
The rebel hags plundered each household of its clothing and decorations . . . Wearing colorful, flower-embroidered clothes, whether it was a red blouse or a sky-blue outer garment, they walked along barefooted with muddy feet. They hauled goods through the streets on carrying poles, drenching the clothes in sweat without knowing that this was uncouth and without knowing their own stupidity.27
As in the case of the White Lotus uprising, the sight of women acting outside of prescribed norms during the Taiping rebellion signified the disorder of the rebel occupation for elite observers. The derisive descriptions of the female rebels were sketched in the same spirit as the ideological arguments against their “heterodox” faith and likewise served as a marker of the distance between the “civilized” elites and their rebel oppressors.
Their bias notwithstanding, elite writers captured the corporeal experience of rebellion in ways that official reports and confessions did not. These men vividly described battle scenes as well as the destruction that accompanied them. When he fled rebel-occupied Dangyang city in 1796, Peng Yanqing recorded the casualties which lay in his path: one corpse by the side of the road, another burning in front of a temple, a third set upon by pigs and dogs.28 When he reached the west gate, he wrote,
The only opening was a hole two feet wide, allowing one person to go through at a time. Those carrying money or wearing red clothing were killed.29 There were piles of money and clothes in the streets and all of the crockery in the stores nearby was smashed. . . . Those coming and going were all vagabonds, wearing white cloths on their heads and carrying spears on their shoulders. If they happened on a crack, they poked it with their spear; if they passed a pig, dog, chicken, or duck, they invariably speared it as well.30
Peng’s account clearly conveys the death, devastation, and chaos that characterized the civilian experience of rebellion (Figure 3.3). Descriptions of the carnage, which communicated the horrors of war in the most visceral terms, lacked the sanctimonious tone of the accounts which disparaged rebel beliefs and behaviors. Elite narratives of death bewailed insensate violence; it mattered little whether the perpetrators were religious rebels or imperial soldiers.
Against the proclivity of elites to portray the rebels in formulaic terms, literatus Zhang Dejian sought to persuade Qing military leaders to see past the stereotypes of rebel behavior in formulating defensive strategies. In his “Accounts of the [Taiping] Rebels,” Zhang seeks to reveal the techniques by which the rebels are able to delude the imperial troops. Good intentions notwithstanding, these narratives present the Qing military as credulous and ill-prepared when compared to the cunning and shrewd rebels. Arrogance and ignorance are the primary faults of the soldiery; they either underestimate the rebels’ skills or they fall for obvious “smoke and mirrors” tricks, allowing the rebels the advantage in each case. The solution, as Zhang presents it, is for the military to “see clearly,” whether that be seeing through their own prejudices or seeing through the rebels’ Trojan Horse tactics.
Figure 3.3 The caption that originally accompanied this photograph from the Boxer uprising read, “After the City’s Capture—burning bodies of Chinese outside the Wall at South Gate, Tientsin, China.” Elite observers of popular rebellion provided vivid descriptions of the death and destruction that accompanied revolt and its suppression. Far removed from the conflict, it is difficult for us to imagine the emotional toll of the carnage. This photo taken in the aftermath of the Boxer uprising shows a makeshift funeral pyre set against a backdrop of damaged homes. From: Underwood and Underwood, c1901. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs, Boxer Rebellion, 1900. http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/cph.3c12325
Zhang begins his discussion of Taiping strategy with what he feels is a common misconception: “[People say,] the rebels are nothing but undisciplined bandits, how could they have a strategy?”31 His description of rebel tactics includes sketches of military formations and encampments.32 Figure 3.4 illustrates the “crab” battle formation, wherein a large company is flanked by smaller units, similar to the body of a crab with multiple legs extending from the core. The smaller units are more mobile and can be moved in response to different offensive tactics: the variation depicted in the second image reflects the fluidity of the formation.33 These images contrast sharply with the anecdotal accounts of rebel activities assessed thus far. In these pictures, the organization and foresight of the rebels is on display. The intent of the author is to convince the defenders to take the rebel threat seriously, if not to acknowledge the so-called ruffians as worthy opponents.
Figure 3.4 Crab formation and “modified” crab formation. Although many elite observers of rebellion emphasized the strange ways of the rebels, Zhang Dejian sought to convince his audience that the rebels were an effective fighting force. He provided detailed accounts of rebel tactics, highlighting the rational and strategic elements of rebel battle plans. He included illustrations of rebel battle formations in his account of the Taiping rebels; the crab formation presented here could be deployed in diverse ways depending on the conditions of battle. From: Zhang Dejian “Zeiqing huizuan” [Accounts of the (Taiping) rebels] in Zhongguo shixuehui eds., Zhongguo jindaishi ziliao congkan, II: Taiping Tianguo [Collection of Historical Materials of Modern China, II: The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom] vol. III (Shanghai: Shenzhou guoguang chubanshe, 1952), 128–129.
Zhang also cautions the Qing military to be on guard against rebel strategies of deception:
When retreating from a city or a fort, the rebels leave the wounded behind to beat drums and make noise. They put up straw men on the walls, or put up spikes with hats on top. In the daytime, they plant flags; at night, they light lamps. The rebels can be gone several days before the locals take notice.34
Unfortunately for the imperial troops, sometimes the rebels adopted the reverse tactic, whereby they abandoned camp temporarily and then ambushed the soldiers who came to investigate.35 More pernicious, however, were those ploys which preyed on popular beliefs and superstition.
An old rebel was captured and questioned: he said that when the rebels went into battle, they would fire off gunpowder charges in their rear ranks, creating a cloud of smoke. They would then take yellow and red jackets and throw them in the air. When the soldiers saw this (at a distance), they would mistakenly think that the rebels could fly, and would flee in terror.36
Zhang also described a similar strategy whereby t
he rebels would pick the most stalwart members of their group, dress them in costume, equip them with oversized pasteboard weapons, and conceal them in the ranks, sending them forward only in the heat of battle when they were most likely to frighten the soldiers.37 The ascription of magical powers to religious rebels was not uncommon; indeed, even seasoned generals in the field might cite witchcraft to explain a swift rebel advance.38 Yet Zhang exposes the credulity of the Qing military in unmasking the “magic” as optical illusion.
Elite accounts of religious rebellion invariably emphasized the visual, and therefore visceral, experience of revolt. The accounts cited above include the following imagery: rebels preaching from a stage, a man tied to five horses, white flags moving in procession, women gathering in groves, bodies lying scattered on the ground, armies marching in formation, red and yellow shirts flying through the air. The scenes alternate between the violent and the mysterious. The images convey the fear, trepidation, and suspicion that comprised the civilian understanding of rebellion. Combined, they represent the chaos of revolt and the impenetrability of the rebel movement for the elite observer. Most importantly, the elite emphasis on the visual elements of rebellion helps preserve these historical moments in living color, translating emotion into vivid prose for posterity.
The Official View
There is no question that the sympathies of the Chinese elites lay with court and empire in times of rebellion, excepting of course the scant minority who voluntarily joined the rebel cause. Nevertheless, it is possible to differentiate between the elite perspective and the official view of religious rebellion in Qing China. As documented in correspondence between the emperor and his generals in the field, the official line on rebellion was colored by the political philosophy of the court as well as the exigencies of rule. Official documents reflected the formal position of the court with respect to religious uprisings: the real criminals were the rebel leaders, who were charlatans leading otherwise faithful subjects astray. Although “the people” could be brought back into the fold, the label of rebel tended to stick; thus “rebel” casualties numbered in the thousands. Official reports of rebellion spoke of both people and warfare in logistical terms: numbers of killed, numbers to be fed, numbers on the offense, numbers of silver taels requested, etc. Impulses toward self-preservation and prevarication shaped both text and policy, resulting in a predictable pattern of representation. Rebels were always numerous, conditions were always difficult, and the military always fought with valor.
Names were important to imperial governance. Just as rank and title mattered in communication between the emperor and his officials, so too did the proper identification of whatever problem demanded the court’s attention. Thus, what was seen and experienced in the field needed to first be phrased in proper language before it could be transmitted to the throne. There were complementary traits which were attributed to almost any rebel band which made an appearance in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The first was disorder. In official correspondence, rebel bands were repeatedly referred to as “undisciplined mobs,” in keeping with the belief that only a few of them actually knew what they were doing.39 The second was numbers. Rebels were always described as undifferentiated bands ranging from several hundred to several thousand strong. The emphasis on the relative strength of the rebel bands presumably protected both those local officials who had been surprised by the uprising and those generals who were unable to quell the revolt in short order.
Descriptions of battle predominate in the missives sent from the field to the court. If the Qing defenders were bested by the rebels, the discussion would focus primarily on the rebels’ superior numbers and the generals’ judicious decision to retreat. If, on the other hand, the military was triumphant, the official accounts would laud the exploits of the soldiers and narrate the engagement in detail. Such is the case when Huguang Viceroy Bi Yuan reports the recovery of rebel-occupied Dangyang city in the summer of 1796:
We set up large cannon to breach the city wall. We lobbed cannonballs and fireballs [into the city], setting fire to the residences within. Then we attached grappling hooks [to sections of the wall] and, using the force of many men, were able to break through, compelling the rebels to flee and conceal themselves. With the firestorms raging and the hot and muggy weather, we feared the soldiers would become exhausted. Viceroy Bi Yuan went in person to encourage them.40
This brief narrative successfully conveys the superiority of the Qing forces, the efforts of the soldiers, the dangers of battle, and the dedication of the ranking officials. Like the elite-authored accounts, this document uses vivid imagery to depict the heat of battle. However, where the elite observers emphasized the shock and pathos of violence, official reports adopted a more clinical tone, as documented in the conclusion of Bi Yuan’s account:
When the rebels saw the ferocity of our soldiers, all dressed in green, they took off their white clothing and mixed with the civilian population, hoping to avoid capture. We led the soldiers and militia forward and surrounded them. We killed them with guns and cut them with knives; we beheaded more than one thousand rebels.41
In this case the image of corpses conveys victory rather than fear; the exercise of violence signifies control rather than chaos.
The presentation of violence as a corrective force was deliberate. The Qing military represented the orthodoxy of the empire. The religious rebels were heterodox not only by virtue of their beliefs but also by reason of their rebellion. Indeed, the terms “religious rebel” and “heterodox rebel” are interchangeable in the official record of popular movements. The persecution of rebels preserved the sanctity of the state and reaffirmed the proper order in society.
While scenes of victory were presented in bold detail, military officers also sent comprehensive descriptions of conditions in the field. These accounts showed that the Qing soldiers were not only battling the rebels, but nature as well. In the eighteenth century, there were numerous obstacles to the successful pursuit of a military campaign. One of these, apparently, was rain. Governor Hui Ling reported to the emperor that rain and fog not only impeded the soldiers’ progress, but also provided cover for marauding rebels.42 The real challenge lay in the mountainous regions that rebels of the White Lotus persuasion favored in the years 1796–1804. Figure 3.5 illustrates the dense forest and rough terrain of an area frequented by rebels in the eighteenth century. The rebels held the local advantage in these places; the imperial troops often trailed well behind the active bands, light on information and heavy on equipment:
We have reached Jinxiangping and suddenly encounter consecutive days of dense rain and swirling mist. You almost cannot see the person in front of you. The rebels lay a trap at every turn—and the mountain paths branch off in every direction. We fear that the rebels have quietly returned and are hiding in a gully or cave, ready to cut off any retreat. This area long ago suffered the depredations of war: now there is not even a chicken to be seen. The further we go, the deeper we get, the officers in front, the supplies following. The mountains are tall and the roads are narrow, it is difficult going . . .43
The mountains were terra incognita for the imperial armies. If the soldiers expressed trepidation in these circumstances, it reflected a fear of the unknown rather than a fear of battle. These descriptions, like the elite narratives discussed above, served to emphasize the cultural distance between the rebels and the defenders (Figure 3.6, see website). Inasmuch as the rebel creed distinguished the insurgents from proper society, their familiarity with a hostile landscape bearing no markers of civilization likewise differentiated them from the majority of the emperor’s subjects. The association of the rebels with the wilds of the Chinese hinterland identified the former as “wild” as well.
Figure 3.5 The hill country of central China: battleground of the White Lotus uprising. This photograph taken in 2002 of the mountainous terrain of Shennongjia in western Hubei, P.R.C. visually depicts the conditions described by officials in their reports narr
ating their pursuit of “White Lotus” rebels in the countryside. Officials emphasized the difficulties of negotiating narrow mountain paths and the ever-present dangers of rebel ambush. From: Personal collection, Sigrid Schmalzer.
Such vivid field reports aside, a majority of official correspondence regarding rebellion was formulaic in tone and routine in its subject matter, focusing on the bureaucratic processes necessary to keep the war machine in motion and the polity in working order. These more mundane accounts convey another facet of the official view of rebellion, namely the ramifications of a local disturbance for the region at large. Military campaigns were one part of the official response to rebellion; equal effort was expended to ensure that the chaos of conflict did not disrupt local commerce and agriculture. Violent uprisings displaced hundreds of civilians, who fled to nearby cities and towns seeking assistance. The state reacted quickly to the growth of the refugee population, instructing local officials to set up temporary shelters and soup kitchens, and providing the refugees with financial assistance to return home and reestablish themselves when the danger had passed.44 The primary concern was to move the refugees out of the cities and to restore these families as independent, tax-paying households. Although the documents themselves do not dwell on physical descriptions of the refugee problem, the overall impression suggested by these reports is a very visible population of migrants crowding cities, setting up shanty towns on the outskirts of the county seats, and lining up for a daily portion of rice porridge.