Sharp-eyed visitors to the Palace Museum will note the number of signs which are written in both Chinese and Manchu.  Makes sense considering who actually ruled the Qing Empire and so many of the signs at the Forbidden City look something like this:

But the signs on the main attractions, the big gates and halls of the outer court, the ones EVERYBODY sees (even the “In 35 minutes we have to be at Badaling” package tourist) have signs only in Chinese. By way of example, check out this picture of the Hall of Preserving Harmony (Baohe Dian), in which scholars of centuries past toiled away to pass the highest level of exam.

Only Hanyu. What gives?

I’ve been wondering this for awhile, and on the off-hand chance that either Freda Murck or Geremie Barmé reads this blog they could drop me a note.  Until then, Joel Martinson, the translation machine behind the Danwei blog, tipped me off to this article from 163.com posted back in 2004 which claims to have the answer.  I’ve translated and appended it below the fold, but I’m not entirely convinced…sounds a little too neat and clean to blame old Yuan ]]>

Sharp-eyed visitors to the Palace Museum will note the number of signs which are written in both Chinese and Manchu.  Makes sense considering who actually ruled the Qing Empire and so many of the signs at the Forbidden City look something like this:

But the signs on the main attractions, the big gates and halls of the outer court, the ones EVERYBODY sees (even the “In 35 minutes we have to be at Badaling” package tourist) have signs only in Chinese. By way of example, check out this picture of the Hall of Preserving Harmony (Baohe Dian), in which scholars of centuries past toiled away to pass the highest level of exam.

Only Hanyu. What gives?

I’ve been wondering this for awhile, and on the off-hand chance that either Freda Murck or Geremie Barmé reads this blog they could drop me a note.  Until then, Joel Martinson, the translation machine behind the Danwei blog, tipped me off to this article from 163.com posted back in 2004 which claims to have the answer.  I’ve translated and appended it below the fold, but I’m not entirely convinced…sounds a little too neat and clean to blame old Yuan Shikai for everything.  But it’s the only explanation I’ve heard so far so I’ll leave it to readers to make up their own minds.

Why is there no Manchu writing on the Hall of Supreme Harmony (Taihe Dian) in the Forbidden City?

Tourists who visit the Palace Museum will find that the sign boards above the Palace of Heavenly Purity, the Palace of Earthly Tranquility, the Palace of Tranquil Longevity, Shenwu Gate and other palaces and gates in the inner court are written in both Manchu and Chinese languages. Those for the main palaces, however, including The Hall of Supreme Harmony, The Hall of Complete (Middle) Harmony, The Hall of Preserving Harmony, and major gates like Wumen, Xihuamen, Donghuamen, have signs only in Chinese. Why is this?

Back in the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), the signboards for the palaces and gates in the Forbidden City were all in Chinese.  During the Qing Dynasty (1644-1912), the Emperors were Manchu decreed their own language to be the national language and used throughout the land.  After the Shunzhi Emperor took up residence in the Forbidden City, he had all the signboards on the palaces and gates written in Manchu and Chinese side by side, with a few also including Mongolian script.  Generally speaking, Manchu was on the left with Chinese on the right in accordance with the custom of the left being superior to the right.

The 1911 Revolution ended the reign of the Qing Emperors and the Xuantong Emperor (the last emperor Puyi) was forced to abdicate but continued to live in the palaces to the north of the Gate of Heavenly Purity.  Use of the outer palaces, including The Hall of Supreme Harmony, The Hall of Complete (Middle) Harmony, and The Hall of Preserving Harmony, was ceded to the republican government. Soon after, the northern warlord Yuan Shikai usurped the accomplishments of the revolution through political chicanery became president of the Republic of China. But Yuan wasn’t satisfied being president, he wanted to restore the monarchy and become an emperor.

Forthwith, Yuan carried out his plan, proclaiming himself emperor with the reign name “Hong Xian.” No sooner had he restored the monarchical system then he began receiving the hatred and scorn of the common people, The anti-imperial feelings among the masses surged stronger by the day such that Yuan Shikai was scared to even leave the palace gates. He knew in his heart that without popular support an emperor is doomed to fall before long, but Yuan was unwilling to give up his imperial dreams, and so he called Wang Jingtai, his trusted subordinate, to his chambers to discuss what they should do.

Yuan Shikai asked Wang Jingtai to tell him what sort of slanderous talk was spreading amongst the common folks outside the palace walls. Wang told Yuan that the people were mainly grumbling about the restoration of the imperial order and the abolition of the Republic. They were saying “Oppose the Qing, Denounce Yuan!”  Yuan Shikai fidgeted nervously, trying to think of a strategy that could ease the minds of the people.  He thought and thought and thought for three days straight, and still he couldn’t come up with a good plan.  Finally, it was Wang Jingtai who had an idea.

Wang approached Yuan and said, “Your Majesty, are the people not opposed to the Qing? Let us give them something to see.  The Forbidden City has palaces and gates with signs written in both Manchu and Chinese side by side. This Manchu writing represents the Qing Dynasty. Why don’t we get rid of the Manchu script and leave only the Chinese, showing how we have no desire to restore the Qing Dynasty and that we too oppose the Qing?  Once the common folk see that the Manchu has been removed, perhaps they won’t oppose your becoming emperor.”

To Yuan Shikai Wang’s words had some merit, especially as Yuan couldn’t come up with anything else at the time. Why not give it a try? Perhaps when those who opposed Yuan heard that Manchu was no longer in the Forbidden City, the people would come around and support him.

Having thought this, he hastily wrote an “imperial edict” ordering that within 10 days the Manchu language be removed from all palaces and gates in the Forbidden City.  But the “imperial edict” had only just been issued when Yuan changed his mind. The Xuantong Emperor (Puyi) still lived in the inner palaces along with several diehard Manchu courtiers, both young and old.  They had only just been removed from power, and their influence in the country was even then not inconsiderable. “If I remove the Manchu language from the inner court as well,” thought Yuan, “don’t I risk encouraging them to rise up in opposition to me?”

Meanwhile, if the situation outside the palace failed to improve and Yuan’s court continued to suffer the wrath of the people, this would be a huge problem for Yuan. Having considered both problems, Yuan amended the “Imperial Edict” to read: “The gates and palaces in the Outer Court should have the Manchu language removed.”

“The former Qing courtiers living in the inner quarters never ventured to the outer court, and so would have no way of knowing the Manchu language had been removed and cannot raise a stink against me,” thought Yuan.

After Wang Jingtai received the “imperial edict,” the loyal official promptly took a gang of workers through the outer palace, removing all Manchu writing and replacing the signs with ones written only in Chinese.

After Yuan Shikai had removed all of the Manchu in the palaces and gates of the outer court, he sent his people to proclaim the news everywhere, from the major newspapers to the smallest rag tabloid.  But the common people weren’t buying what Yuan was trying to sell. The denunciations of Yuan became louder and even more strident.  As a result, Yuan’s imperial dream lasted on 83 days and Yuan is now known as one of history’s villains.

Although Yuan Shikai was forced to abdicate, the changes he made to the Forbidden City lasted as silent testimony to Yuan’s usurpation of the state.

Posted at 网易科技报道 http://tech.163.com on October 27, 2004.
Original publication: 千龙新闻网   不良信息举报

Last week, Chinese blogger Xueyong wrote a response to Mr. Lee’s piece. Xueyong asserts that the recent wave of patriotic fervor runs deeper than Lee Kuan-yew suggests, and that the sense of resentment over ‘Western bullying’ and the resulting feelings of victimization also have their roots in the PRC information and educational environment. (h/t Global Voices Online)

I took the liberty of translating Xueyong’s piece in full. I’m not the best translator, so I welcome any suggestions for fixes or more felicitous renderings of the original.

Singaporean Minister Mentor Lee Kuan-yew in the most recent issue of Forbes Magazine, discusses the chasm of understanding between East and West. He criticizes both sides. At the the ]]> In the recent issue of Forbes Magazine, Lee Kuan-yew writes about the continuing perception gap between East and West, citing the recent protests surrounding the torch relay and the angry response by ethnic Chinese both inside and outside the PRC. Lee argues that this is part of the developmental process and that as China becomes stronger and the Chinese middle class becomes larger, richer, and better educated (especially educated abroad) this sense of victimization at the hands of the West will diminish.

Last week, Chinese blogger Xueyong wrote a response to Mr. Lee’s piece. Xueyong asserts that the recent wave of patriotic fervor runs deeper than Lee Kuan-yew suggests, and that the sense of resentment over ‘Western bullying’ and the resulting feelings of victimization also have their roots in the PRC information and educational environment. (h/t Global Voices Online)

I took the liberty of translating Xueyong’s piece in full. I’m not the best translator, so I welcome any suggestions for fixes or more felicitous renderings of the original.

Singaporean Minister Mentor Lee Kuan-yew in the most recent issue of Forbes Magazine, discusses the chasm of understanding between East and West. He criticizes both sides. At the the end Lee gently chides:

The Chinese must prove to themselves that they are capable of building a modern nation. For this, China needs a large, well-educated middle class; if and when it gets it, many of them will have been educated in the West and will be familiar with the U.S. and Europe. Then, like the educated of Japan, Korea, and Singapore, they will cease to view themselves as victims of Western imperialism.” (Ed note. — In the original Forbes piece, Lee Kuan-yew mentions Taiwan and Hong Kong along with Japan, Singapore, and Korea.)

Li Kuan-yew pointed out that the misunderstanding which caused the wave of patriotic fervor over the last two months was this feeling or sense of being insulted by western countries. He feels sending foreign students abroad can change this perception. But it also leads to a perplexing situation: Those students studying abroad right now are even more patriotic than Chinese back home. These students wave the red flag on Capitol Hill, singing the refrain “As the Chinese nation faces its greatest peril” from our national anthem with gusto.

In reality, few people can say what the crises of the Chinese nation are or how the West in the past 30 or 50 years has bullied China. Japan and the West have provided China with a great deal of assistance over the past 30 years of development. Those people of Chinese ethnicity living abroad have benefited from this development. In addition, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, Singapore, and Hong Kong have little feeling of being bullied by the West. The West has little reason to oppress China. It is only a dark contest of ideologies. Western criticism of Chinese ideology or China‘s human rights record is exists only to give westerners a pretext for gossiping. In any case, it’s not bullying China.

This sense of being bullied by the West is not from a lack of contact or communication with Western countries, so from whence does this feeling arise? Lee Kuan-yew is a politician and he has not considered carefully the past fifty years of ideological controls in China. If he thought about it, he found it inconvenient to mention it. As a matter of fact, this sense of being bullied from the west is rooted in the control of public opinion in China, the obstruction of the free flow of ideas, and students who from a young age are instilled with the notion of “Westerners bullying Chinese people.” Some Chinese students have had this feeling of oppression and bullying instilled in their blood, going to the west does not change this feeling. In the middle of Lee Kuan-yew’s article, he refers to a Chinese student who asks his professor a question that reflects this situation: “What do you want from us? When we were labeled the ‘sick man of Asia,’ we were called a peril. When we are billed to be the next superpower, we’re called the threat.” (Ed note–this is taken from a poem which circulated on the internet this past spring.)

In fact, few westerners are familiar with this term “The Sick Man of Asia.” That was 100 years ago. As for “The China Threat” theory, that’s merely the view of a few extreme right-wing Westerners. Where did the student get his question? It came from propaganda, it came from indoctrination, it came from the emotional content of CCTV programs.

Chinese propaganda is characterized by harangues over the shortcomings of the West and the “carrying forward” of Chinese patriotism and heroism. During the tense period following the Sichuan earthquake, China‘s propaganda department organized a national speech tour on the subject of “The Heroic Relief Effort.”

Truly it is: “A relative and those who remain grieve, others are singing, what they died for, is to inspire as heroes and models for the whole country.”

The Chinese are justifiably angry at the destruction wrought by aggressive foreign powers during the 19th and early 20th centuries. Who wouldn’t be? There’s also a theory of historical development, immensely popular inside the PRC but not without its adherents abroad as well, which argues that China’s recent ‘backwardness’ began when imperialism derailed the natural process of modernization and development which some scholars claim dates as far back as the 9th century.

I tend to take a middle path, in part because of my distaste for monocausal explanations of historical phenomena. Certainly imperialism crippled the economy of the Qing Empire and the system of unequal treaties were enormous infringements on Qing imperial sovereignty. The tariff restrictions and commerce clauses of the treaties hampered efforts to build and protect domestic industry and the need to enforce the treaties in the face of overwhelming popular resentment weakened the political legitimacy for all levels of the Qing government, from the Manchu court down to the local officials. That’s not even mentioning the human toll of warfare, economic dislocations, and the insidious spread of opium addiction. That said, by the early 19th century, the Qing Empire was a mess, the center was weak, the bureaucracy riven with corruption, and the pressure of an expanding population on limited resources threatened the social and economic order. Furthermore, why should we assume that, if left alone, China would have developed and modernized on its own? Is there a single path of development that assumes the end goal of all human progress to be an industrial revolution and modernization as occurred in Western Europe and then spread to its satellite polities in North America?

We should never forget about the problems of imperialism on China, but at the same time we should remain aware that this narrative of Western victimization and Communist liberation is a key part of the legitimizing ideology of Party and state. History is taught in the schools and presented in the mass media not as a process of questioning, critical analysis, and objective inquiry leading to renewed understanding of the past, but rather as a reinforcement of ideology and a petrification of old tropes and myths.

Oscar Wilde once said, “The one duty we owe to history is to rewrite it.” I couldn’t agree more. Increasing understanding, building bridges between cultures, and making friends of old enemies cannot simply be stages on some macroeconomic timeline, they must be a part of a process by which the past, both the good and bad, the laudable and the regrettable, are reexamined, discussed, and remembered, because a past viewed through ideological blinkers and partisan agendas is a shaky foundation for building a future. I’m just saying…