China’s Hidden Century @ the British Museum

The British historian Eric Hobsbawm popularised the idea of the ‘long nineteenth century’ in European history, the notion that starting historical accounts of the nineteenth century precisely at 1800 and ending them on the dot at 1900 is inadequate; you have to start at 1789 with the outbreak of the French Revolution to understand everything which followed, and you have to continue the era on until 1914 and the outbreak of the Great War, which marked the true end of the century and all its assumptions.

The curators of this sumptuous, fascinating and beautifully designed exhibition at the British Museum have done something similar to Chinese history, extending their definition of China’s long nineteenth century – what they’re calling ‘China’s Hidden Century’ – to start in 1796 and to end in 1912.

The dates

Why start at 1796? Because that’s the year a new emperor came to the throne, the Qianlong Emperor. It didn’t mark the start of a new dynasty; the Qianlong Emperor was the fourth in the well-established Qing dynasty which had started in 1644. But the start of his reign arguably marked a high tide mark of China’s power and confidence. In that year the empire contained over 300 million souls, an estimated third of humanity, and the total territory ruled by the emperor exceeded the area of Europe.

This map from his reign is a political map in the sense that it doesn’t strive for geographical accuracy but marks places by importance. So it’s amusing to learn that Europe is shown as a small border area at the top left and that Britain is one of the tiny insignificant islands indicated by white-lined blobs off the blue coast at the very top left.

Complete Map of All Under Heaven Unified by the Great Qing, China, about 1800 © The British Library

Why end the period in 1912? Because that’s the year when, following the revolution of 1911, the last Qing emperor, the Xuantong Emperor, commonly known as Puyi, was forced to abdicate, bringing to an end over 2,000 years of imperial rule.

Why the ‘hidden’ century? Because the long century between these two dates has conventionally been seen by Western historians as an era of steady decline, a sunset period after the artistic glories of the 17th and 18th centuries, leading inexorably down to the empire’s final collapse at the start of the 20th century. The curators’ aim is to question and reverse this preconception, to rehabilitate China’s long nineteenth century.

Nineteenth century wars

When describing the nineteenth century in China, Western historians all too often focus on the series of wars which China fought and consistently lost, notably the two Opium Wars (1839 to 1842 and 1856 to 1860), the catastrophic Taiping Rebellion (1850 to 1864), the Sino-Franco War (1884 to 1885), the First Sino-Japanese War (1894 to 1895), the Boxer Rebellion (1899 to 1901).

But despite these various disaster, in China, like everywhere else, people continued to live and love, marry, have families, make homes, work or run businesses, hustle for money or places in the bureaucracy, buy clothes and furniture and toys and household implements, shop and cook and eat, wear fine clothes and jewellery, write letters and contracts and wills and poems, decorate and draw and paint beautiful things.

And that is what this exhibition is about. Wars and emperors are covered, but what it’s really about is Chinese social history, about uncovering the lives and lifestyles of the widest possible range of Chinese people – a people steeped in tradition and religion and rituals and business and art – through a dazzling collection of objects.

Jacket with border of steam ships 1860 to 1900 © The Trustees of the British Museum

The exhibition contains 300 objects brought from over 30 lenders, public and private, around the world. It’s taken four years to assemble and involved over 100 scholars from 14 countries. The result is not only the exhibition and the typically sumptuous catalogue which accompanies it, but a related book by a team of scholars which details the lives of 100 Chinese citizens chosen from all across ‘China’s Hidden Century’.

Seven rooms

The exhibition has been organised into seven rooms, each addressing an aspect of Chinese life, being:

  1. Introduction
  2. Court
  3. Military
  4. Artists
  5. Urban life
  6. Global China
  7. Reformers and revolutionaries

Representative figures

Each room also features one particular individual who typifies or epitomises the theme under consideration. There are an unknown woman courtier; an empress; a soldier; an artist; a businessman’s wife; a merchant; and revolutionary poet.

In a lovely piece of design these personages are threaded through the show’s iconography by shadows, life-sized outlines of these fugitive figures from history. The Museum commissioned the London College of Fashion to create silhouettes of these figures, which are projected on delicate white fabric or gauze hangings throughout the beautifully laid-out show.

In fact the first thing you see when you enter the Sainsbury Wing where the exhibition is being held is an opaque screen with life-size silhouettes of 7 mysterious figures cast on it. These shadowy figures, from a distant country, from a vanished past, will hover over and guide the visitor through their treasure and marvels.

Shadows of the past – screen designed by the London College of fashion in ‘China’s Hidden Century’ @ the British Museum

1. Introduction – women’s voices

The map (above), a bilingual document in both Manchu (language of the ruling dynasty) and Chinese (language of the majority Han people), and an imperially commissioned dictionary indicate some of the scope and scale of the multilingual, multi-ethnic empire at the exhibition’s start point. But the most significant object here is a portrait of an unknown woman.

Portrait of an unknown Manchu woman by an unknown artist © The Trustees of the British Museum

As Chairman Mao said a century later, ‘Women hold up half the sky’, but women’s lives were very circumscribed in traditional China. As well as bringing the story of a neglected century into the light, the exhibition is very committed to giving women’s stories and women’s experiences their due. This picture of an unknown woman from the Qing court sets the tone or announces this intent.

Accompanying the picture is a 1-minute audio of her imagined thoughts and feelings, read in both English and Chinese. All of the seven figures have an audioscript like this, in which they describe their lives and experiences.

On a more specific level, if you look very closely you can see that she has three earrings in each earlobe, something Manchu women did to as a marker of their ethnicity i.e. belonging to the ruling caste. Ethnicity was important. The introductory section also contains a map of Peking, which was sharply divided by ethnicity. The imperial palace complex and immediate environs were reserved for Manchus. Han residents lived to the south in the walled part of the city. Foreign diplomats and business people were confined to a quarter in the north-east.

2. The court

Six emperors ruled in succession between 1796 and 1912 and a lovely scroll on the wall gives their names and dates and a one-phrase description. They were:

1. Underestimated emperor: The Jiaqing emperor (ruled 1796 to 1820)

2. Emperor forced to open China: The Daoguang emperor (1821 to 1850)

3. Witness of Qing decline: The Xianfeng emperor (1851 to 1861)

[Power behind the throne: Empress Dowager Cixi (1835 to 1908)]

4. Puppet emperor: The Tongzhi emperor (1862 to 1874)

5. Reforming emperor: The Guangxu emperor (1875 to 1908)

6. Last emperor: The Xuantong emperor (Puyi) (1908 to 1912)

The last three of these came to the throne and their reigns were dominated by the great power behind the throne, the Empress Dowager Cixi, the de facto ruler of China from 1861 to 1908: her son became the Tongzhi emperor and her nephew ruled as the Guangxu emperor.

Cixi is centre stage here, the Representative Figure, a life-sized silhouette of her caught on a hanging gauze, while all around her are clothes and objects indicating the luxury of the imperial court. As with all the other representative figures, there’s an audio playing of some of the Empress Dowager’s words, in this case an amusingly immodest claim:

“I have often thought that I am the cleverest woman that ever lived… I have heard much about Queen Victoria…her life was not half as eventful as mine.”

Empress Dowager Cixi’s robe (about 1880 to 1908) © The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Objects include a sumptuous imperial blue gown (above). This features a swooping phoenix amid lush chrysanthemums and wide sleeve bands and is a gorgeous combination of Manchu, Chinese and Japanese motifs, in purple, gold and turquoise. The Empress Dowager’s wardrobe contained hundreds of such dazzling items, which she would accessorise with grandiose, jewelled headpieces, some of which are on display.

But there’s also an abundance of other objects, from the sublime to the ridiculous. At the everyday life end of the scale there’s a collection of snuff boxes. Before 1860 snuff-taking was the preserve of high-status bannermen, government officials and wealthy merchants; after 1860 these stylish little boxes became more widespread as fashionable male accessories.

The most impressive display is of a huge monumental hanging. Dramatic textiles such as this are thought to have served as backdrops for operatic performances but originally derived from hangings for religious festivals or banners in ritual processions. In the centre of this one is a theatrical warrior figure with a yak hair beard and padded-out face. The colours and method of depicting the figures is similar to woodblock printed images of popular deities. In front of it is an elaborate theatrical costume.

Monumental hanging made from silk and metallic thread embroidery on plain-weave wool with animal fibres (nineteenth century) Lent by The Metropolitan Museum of Art

There are thumb-rings used by Manchu archers and cavalrymen, an informal robe made for the Guangxu emperor, ritual vessels used as part of state religion, the portrait of a Daoist priest and a Buddhist figure (Buddhism was an important component of the Qing court’s belief system, with Mongolian and Tibetan lamas (teachers) and monks conducting services at court). There’s a woman’s court vest and robe and a photo of court women wearing such clothes. There’s hairpins and fingernail guards; glassware and lacquerware. In short, a wealth of beautiful evocative objects.

Most incongruous objects is the pair of enormous, highly decorated cloisonné vases which were a diplomatic gift from the last Qing emperor Xuantong (also called Puyi) to King George V and Queen Mary for their coronation in June 1911.

Two Chinese vases, cloisonné enamel on copper with carved wooden stands (1908 to 1911) Lent by His Majesty The King

Photography

Something that’s always puzzled me about Chinese art from this period is the odd dysjunction between traditional forms and styles and hyper-realistic faces. The curators explain it was the advent of photography. Western photography, as it developed and spread throughout the nineteenth century, strongly influenced non-Western artistic traditions and in China led to a fashion for hyper-realistic faces, derived from photos, but embedded in traditional clothes, in traditional scroll format, with traditional writing still written on the painting – something we see striking examples of later in the show.

Film

Moving pictures were first publicly presented in 1895 and quickly spread as the technology developed at lightning pace. In an alcove to one side there’s rare, silent black and white film of a dancer, Yu Rongling, daughter of a Qing diplomat, who studied traditional dance in Japan, then, when her father was posted to Paris, studied Western dance and with the dance pioneer Isadora Duncan. She returned to China in 1903 and was asked to perform for the empress. This rare footage of her performing a sword dance is from 1926, after the exhibition’s time limit, but indicating the kind of performance which would have been staged for the last emperors. She is also, of course, part of the exhibition’s foregrounding of women’s achievements.

3. The military

As mentioned foreign and domestic wars ravaged Qing China throughout the 1800s. Civil conflicts including the White Lotus Insurrection (1796 to about 1806), the Xinjiang wars (1820s and 1860s) and the ruinous Taiping Civil War (1851 to 1864), and then wars with imperialist powers such as the two Opium Wars with Britain (1839 to 1842 and 1856 to 1860), the Sino-French War (1884 to 1885), the Sino-Japanese War (1894 to 1895) and the Boxer War (1899 to 1901).

This section is dominated by the impressive figure of a bannerman. We see an impressive soldier’s uniform from mid-century and hear an audio of General Mingliang (1735 to 1822), spoken in Manchu and English, recounting his life and experiences. What is a bannerman?

Bannermen were elite hereditary soldiers who commanded divisions called the Eight Banners, identified by eight coloured flags. They were mostly Manchus, Mongols and some Chinese whose ancestors fought against the Ming dynasty in 1644. Most bannermen lived in the region around Beijing. In provincial garrisons they lived apart from the local population, often in walled sections of major cities. Bannermen were paid a state salary and enjoyed preferential treatment under the law and in the national and regional exam system, success in which led to a government post.

Installation view of ‘China’s Hidden Century’ @ the British Museum, showing Qing army uniform, shield, musket and banner

Illustrating the role of the Chinese army during the long nineteenth century are an album recording the postings of an unknown military official; the diary of Wanyan Linqing, a Manchu bannerman and high-ranking official which contains lovely ink line drawings by contemporary artists. There’s examples of military uniforms and flags along with images of weapons such as double swords, trident, swallowtail shaped shield, infantry archery, sword with shield, long spear, long sword with curved blade and muskets.

From a naval perspective there’s a map of China’s coastline indicating islands, reefs and sandbars. Most poignantly or pointedly of all, there’s a physical copy of the actual Treaty of Nanjing which ended the First Opium War, signed on 29 August 1842. It was the first of the ‘unequal treaties’ which were imposed on the weak Qing Dynasty by arrogant Westerners and, as such, the source of burning resentment for over a century. Its provisions forcibly opened up coastal cities like Shanghai to European and American merchants.

The First Opium War

In the early 1800s, ships began smuggling opium (an illegal narcotic) from British India into south China. As opium consumption increased, the Daoguang emperor banned the trade. The British surrendered 20,283 chests of British-owned opium, promising compensation to the merchants concerned. Lin Zexu, the emperor’s special commissioner, confiscated and destroyed it all. The British government sent a fleet of ships to recoup compensation of lost opium profits.

By the treaty the Qing were ordered to pay an indemnity of $21 million over three years and relinquish Hong Kong to the British. There is absolutely nothing to redeem Britain’s bullying, extortionate and immoral behaviour. In ironic counterpoint to Britain’s bullying, there’s a delicate portrait of Queen Victoria made in 1842 by an unknown artist looking as if opium wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

The Second Opium War

Britain began the Second Opium War to force China to legalise the opium trade and to secure profits from it. The 1858 Treaty of Tianjin opened 11 further ports to Western trade. In 1859, the Qing military defeated an Anglo-French fleet sent to Beijing to ratify the treaty. In 1860, more Anglo-French forces marched on Beijing. They looted the Summer Palace, home to the emperor. Prince Gong, the emperor’s brother, signed the Convention of Beijing, bringing the war to an end. Reformers subsequently began to strengthen and modernise Qing rule.

So the British burned the emperor’s summer palace to the ground as punishment for disobeying our imperial commands. Apparently, the brick and stone ruins have been left to become the defining symbol of European violence against 19th-century China. (Other areas of the site have been built on to form parts of the campuses of Peking University and Tsinghua University.) There are some sad relics from the palace on display, namely a couple of broken glazed turquoise architectural tiles.

The Taiping rebellion

One of the weirdest but at the same time most destructive conflicts in human history. Schoolteacher Hong Xiuquan (1814 to 1864), a small town schoolmaster exposed to Christian teachings through a missionary pamphlet, had a nervous breakdown as a result of which he became convinced that he was the younger brother of Jesus Christ!

He appointed himself ‘Heavenly King’, first emperor of the new dynasty of Taiping. Mind-bogglingly he attracted hosts of followers, amassed an army and by the late 1850s his ’empire’, the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, occupied much of China. With about 200 million people under its control, the Taiping had its own rulers, officials, civil service exams, calendar, currency and laws.

Qing dynasty forces fought back and the conflict turned into a full-blown civil war. Amazingly, it resulted in an estimated 20 million dead, making it the deadliest conflict in human history. Western mercenaries fought on both sides. Foreigners protected their interests by supplying both the Qing and Taiping with weapons.

Relics or indicators of this vast catastrophe include an embroidered jacket from the Taiping court, a portrait of Hong, a notice to be placed on European’s homes sparing them from Taiping violence, Taiping coins and a seal, a hand-written letter from Hong and a copy of the Taiping Bible which was amended to insert Jesus Christ’s brother.

The Taiping made Nanjing their capital in 1853, fortifying the former Ming capital with an outer wall. This was where they made their last stand in summer 1864, surrounded and under siege by the Hunan army led by Zeng Guofan – as depicted in this contemporary woodcut.

The defeat of the Taiping, Nanjing, about 1864 © SOAS University of London

4. Artists

Despite the disruption and huge death toll of China’s nineteenth century wars, life for most people carried on, with many people prepared to pay for luxury objects and works of art. The century saw continued production of China’s classic media and genres, landscape paintings, fans and albums and there are rare and beautiful examples here.

But the century saw the slow steady introduction of western techniques such as lithography, which was combined with traditional woodblock printing design. Cheaper printing technology allowed cheaper magazines and newspapers to be produced such as the weekly pictorial magazine, Dianshizhai huabao, on display here – which included western style images and spread a new Western aesthetic. New artistic and literary groups were set up. Artist Ren Xiong was a member of this new generation and is represented by this fine painting of his patron’s wife.

Autumn shadow in Liangxi (Wuxi) by Ren Xiong (1840 to 1857) © Michael Yun-Wen Shih Collection

There are examples of works by other artists from the period including Xugu, Sun Mingqiu, practitioner of bapo art, as well as some beautiful examples of traditional calligraphy by Yi Bingshou and Huo Ziye.

The commonest and most impactful form of art was mass-produced religious art, especially images of gods and goddesses depicted in woodblock prints and there are striking examples here, notably a painting representing the Daoist goddess Magu, protector of women.

Women’s art tended to be exchanged within closed networks and so tends to be under-represented in modern collections. The exhibition tries to redress this by displaying works by Cao Zhenxiu and Ma Quan.

Album of Insects and Flowers by Ju Lian (1865) Lent by the Metropolitan Museum

5. Everyday urban life

This feels like the biggest and fullest room and, insofar as the exhibition’s aim is to show the continuity of everyday life during the period, is arguably at the core of its mission.

By the 1850s China’s population had reached a staggering 450 million. Average life expectancy was just forty years but despite this cities grew rapidly as people migrated from war-torn areas. A growing body of entrepreneurs developed businesses using new technologies and materials. Handicrafts were industrialised and commercialised. Wealthy people’s homes and fashion reflected these political, cultural, technological and environmental changes. Newspapers and magazines showed their readers middle class lifestyles to aspire to.

Installation view of the urban life room in ‘China’s Hidden Century’ @ the British Museum

This room is packed with stuff, with objects from everyday life, life on the street, ordinary people’s lifestyles. There’s a baker’s shop sign, a cook’s jacket and trousers, a picture of a weaver. There’s a great portrait of an itinerant dentist holding strings of teeth dangling from her advertising placard.

There’s carved portraits of gods, side-fastening jackets in eye-catching colours, brightly coloured leggings, silk and leather shoes, a child’s jacket and hat, examples of men’s fashion. There’s winter wear, a woman’s sleeveless jacket, an amazing hood decorated with dragons, detachable collars of different shapes and sizes, elaborate head dresses for wear on special occasions. Loads and loads of things.

Elaborate headdress with peacock and bee motifs (1800 to 1900) Lent by the Teresa Coleman Collection

There are everyday objects and tools, including sewing tools such as needles and thimbles, sleevebands and accessories. Earmuffs. Hair extensions. A mahjong set and objects from games and sports, cricket cages and a shuttlecock, glove puppets and marionettes. Traditional musical instruments such as a pipa (pear-shaped lute) and a dizi (transverse flute). A charming set of miniature furniture as for a doll’s house.

I didn’t know whether to be charmed or appalled when I learned that bannermen in Beijing often kept pigeons, releasing them into the sky twice a day to watch them fly and listen to the music created through their whistles. There are depictions of theatre and opera indicating popular and middle-class entertainments, a woodblock showing a troupe of jugglers, a watercolour depicting a wealthy merchant from Hangzhou surrounded by his courtesans.

There’s a bizarre-looking water-proof cape made entirely from stalks of straw for a street worker, farmer or fisherman. Conservators have painstakingly restored it to its former strangeness.

The Representative Person here is Madame Li. She was a Buddhist and married to Lu Xifu who ran a successful business in the Foshan area near Guangzhou (Canton). She and her husband are represented by ancestral portraits painted in the new realistic style inspired by photography and commissioned by their nephews. In their business success, in their bourgeois self-image, in their family piety, in their easy incorporation of Western styles into a traditional format, they epitomise the later Chinese nineteenth century. Like all the other representative figures, Madame Li has a one-minute audio describing her life, in English and Chinese.

Portraits of Lu Xifu and his wife, Mrs Lu by an unknown artist (about 1876) framed hanging scroll with ink, colours and gilding on paper. Lent by the Royal Ontario Museum

6. Global Qing

We’ve seen how foreigners triggered war with Qing China and how foreign styles influenced some artists. This section looks at the increasingly international nature of trade and the cosmopolitan nature of the objects being traded.

Until the 1840s, Guangzhou (Canton) was the only place in China where trade with Europe and the USA was legal and where foreigners could live and work. The Treaty of Nanjing of 1842 forced the government to open up more ports to foreign trade, which became known as ‘treaty ports’, most successful of which was to become Hong Kong.

With trade came new materials, styles and technologies. In the second half of the century modern technology revolutionised industry and changed people’s lives. Inventions such as electricity and the new postal system transformed the way people worked and communicated.

So this room contains a painting of the waterfront at Guangzhou; a portrait of Sir Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy, a Bombay-born Parsi merchant and philanthropist who made a fortune trading with Qing China in commodities including opium; a portrait by a Qing artist named Lamqua of a British East India Company Midshipman; a book belonging to Silas Aaron Hardoon, once one of the richest men in Asia who made his pile in Shanghai selling opium, renting out properties and investing in the new stock exchange.

Luxury objects include a cream silk parasol with multicoloured knotted tassels; a carved ivory basket with handles carved like dragons; a beautiful painting of crabs done by a local Guangzhou artist; luxury objects such as a fan, a lacquer bracelet and a gaming chest.

There’s a set of ‘reverse glass paintings’ and a treaty port silver punch set made from ‘export silver’ and consisting of a punchbowl, six beakers, a sugar bowl and tongs. tongs. It has applied dragons, the initials of its British owner, John Penniall, and the date 1905.

Treaty port silver punch set, Shanghai (1905) © Trustees of the British Museum 2023

There’s a folding screen which was exhibited at the 1867 International Exposition in Paris; a fashionable round fan with a map of the Eastern and Western hemispheres, a fan portraying the Tianjin incident.

It’s an old curiosity shop, a rummage sale, an Antiques Roadshow of all kinds of accoutrements and impedimenta. There’s a beautiful silk robe embroidered with images of the new steamships plying China’s rivers, a poster for a Shandong line train.

I especially liked the travelling medicine chest of Ida Kahn (1873 to 1931), a pioneering female doctor. Kahn was the adopted daughter of an American missionary in southeast China, studied medicine in the USA and England. Returning to China in 1896, she was hailed as a ‘modern woman’, gaining the support of the local gentry and foreign missionaries alike. But as well as Western medicine, Ida had knowledge of Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM). Hence this travelling chest filled ointments, powdered plants, dried insects and written charms to speed recovery. I particularly liked the dried lizard.

Traditional Chinese Medicine chest (1890 to 1910) Lent by the Natural History Society of Northumbria

The Representative Person here is Lu Guangheng, also known as Mouqua (1792 to 1843) who organised trade with foreign merchants in Guangzhou, serving as head merchant of the ‘Hong’ – a guild with the exclusive right to trade with foreigners – from 1807 to 1811. He suffered severe financial losses in a fire in the city in 1822. In his portrait he is dressed in the robes of a high official which, however, he paid for rather than passing the difficult public exams. Mouqua was unusual for his time in speaking English.

Mouqua, also, has a one-minute audio-recording, telling his story in both Cantonese and English.

7. Reformers and revolutionaries

The last room concerns the political disruption which eventually led to the overthrow of the last emperor in 1912. A good deal of the final collapse was caused by foreign interventions. Qing China was shocked by its defeat to Japan in the Sino-Japanese War of 1894 to 1895. In response to this humiliation Chinese patriots pressed for sweeping reform of the administration and the need to modernise all aspects of the country. The old Empress Dowager Cixi reluctantly permitted some reforms when the country was rocked by the Boxer War of 1899 to 1901.

The Boxer War

Anti-Christian militants supported by Qing troops against foreign residents of China and Chinese Christians. In summer 1900 Beijing’s foreign community was trapped in a 55-day siege in the capital’s walled diplomatic district. Qing and Boxer armies were eventually defeated by a joint expeditionary force from Austro-Hungary, the British empire, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, Russia and the USA. The war is represented by a striking colour woodblock illustration. There’s a copy of the reformed military flag which was adopted by the Qing government.

North China was plundered by foreign troops and the foreign governments in yet another humiliation forced Qing China to pay reparations amounting to about £67 million over 39 years.

Rout of foreign troops by Boxers at Beicang near Tianjin. The Boxers are in the foreground wearing turbans. Commanders of the Qing troops wear yellow silk. Foreigners, at bottom left, hold the Union Jack and other European flags. Woodblock colour print on paper (1900) © The Trustees of the British Museum

Reform

Intellectuals searched for ways to revive China’s administration after the 1895 defeat by Japan. In 1898 a reform movement to radically modernise China was launched, which came to be called the Hundred Days’ Reform movement because it was opposed by conservatives at court and shut down by the all-powerful Empress Dowager Cixi. Two leading reformers, Kang Youwei and Liang Qichao, were forced into exile where they wrote doleful poetry.

However, pressure for reform continued and in 1905 the imperial exam system which focused on knowledge of Confucian philosophy was abolished. A revised curriculum for schools was introduced, including new subjects such as Western sciences and languages. Across China, new universities were founded.

Revolution

Many educated men and a few women left China for Japan, where some were radicalised. Pockets of resistance were established across China, but ultimately an uprising in Hubei on 10 October 1911 was the catalyst for change. The last emperor, Puyi, abdicated in February 1912, bringing to an end 2,000 years of imperial rule.

Qiu Jin

The exhibition ends, as it started, with a woman’s voice. Qiu Jin (1875 to 1907) was a revolutionary, feminist and poet. Qui travelled to Japan where, like many of her generation, she was radicalised i.e. saw that an Asian country could modernise without losing its traditional values. She returned to China where she was involved in revolutionary movements. She was arrested on trumped-up charges and executed aged just 31.

Qiu Jin in Kimono, from the Carrie Chapman Catt diaries and photographs (1910) © Wisconsin Historical Society

Apparently, she remains a celebrated figure in China to this day. Not only a political figure, she was a noted poet. A line of her poetry is written over her display:

‘As my heart shatters with rage over my homeland’s troubles, how can I linger, a guest abroad, savouring spring winds?’

The exhibition ends with a whole wall devoted to a slowly rotating sequence of photos of Qiu and, in a striking achievement, a recording of a song written by Qiu Jin performed by the London Chinese Philharmonic Choir (!) And with this rousing performance, this remarkable, overwhelming, encyclopedic journey through an alien culture and distant time, comes to a vivid and moving conclusion.

Reflections by Qiu Jin

The sun and moon without light. Sky and earth in darkness.
Who can uplift the sinking world of women?
I pawned my jewels to sail across the open seas,
parting from my children as I left the border at Jade Gate.
Unbinding my feet to pour out a millennium’s poisons,
I arouse the spirit of women, hundreds of flowers, abloom.
Oh, this poor handkerchief made of merfolk-woven silk,
half stained with blood and half soaked in tears.

Summary

Everything about this exhibition is carefully considered. The design, with its hanging gauzes, is lovely. The structure feels logical and inexorable. The representative figures reach out from the past to speak to us. The objects are uniformly fascinating or exquisite.

And through it all Chinese culture and society, its mores and values, shimmer and hover on the brink of our understanding. At moments it veers into our frame of reference and understanding. I understand cups and plates and furniture. Business is business everywhere and war is universal. And yet just as you think you can relate to these distant people, the Chineseness of Chinese art and design and life and war  arise as impenetrably other. Take the paintings: their concern with exquisite landscapes or photographic portraits obviously overlap with our interests, and yet derive from thousands of years of a completely different way of looking at the world and recording it, from a tradition it’s hard for us to relate to. We can really like it, but it’s always as outsiders.

At some moments the exhibition brings us really close to named individuals and their thoughts and concerns and, for a moment, we have the pleasing sensation that we understand these people. But the next moment the exhibition goes on to explain something about Chinese opera or art or poetry or politics or religion or social customs or traditions which seem utterly alien, and we are all at sea again.

I completely understand why the American Civil War was fought, the motives of the opposing sides and why it dragged on for so long. Whereas the Taiping Rebellion, which was ten times larger and one of the most catastrophic events in human history, remains incomprehensible.

I understand that Qiu Jin was a revolutionary, feminist and poet and yet, on closer examination, those very Western concepts don’t quite capture her, don’t quite map onto her actual words and concerns as recorded here. There’s something else. Something escapes. The fugitive Chinese quality of her thought and the lovely allusive quality of her poetry.

This feeling of shimmering closeness and then slipping out of reach, of the subject being wonderful and familiar yet utterly strange, and at the same time, is the delicious feeling this exhibition delivers.


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After Tamerlane: The Rise and Fall of Global Empires 1400 – 2000 by John Darwin (2007)

Empires exist to accumulate power on an extensive scale…
(After Tamerlane: The Rise and Fall of Global Empires 1400 – 2000 page 483)

Questions

Why did the nations of Western Europe rise through the 18th and 19th centuries to create empires which stretched around the world, how did they manage to subjugate ancient nations like China and Japan, to turn vast India into a colonial possession, to carve up Africa between them?

How did white European cultures come to dominate not only the territories and peoples who they colonised, but to create the modern mindset – a vast mental framework which encompasses capitalist economics, science and technology and engineering, which dominates the world right down to the present day?

Why did the maritime states of Europe (Britain, France, the Dutch, Spanish and Portuguese) end up either settling from scratch the relatively empty places of the world (America, Australia), or bringing all the other cultures of the world (the Ottoman Empire, Hindu India, Confucian China and Shinto Japan) under their domination?

Answers

For at least two hundred years politicians, historians, economists and all kinds of academics and theoreticians have been writing books trying to explain ‘the rise of the West’.

Some attribute it to the superiority of the Protestant religion (some explicitly said it was God’s plan). Some that it was something to do with the highly fragmented nature of Europe, full of squabbling nations vying to outdo each other, and that this rivalry spilled out into unceasing competition for trade, at first across the Atlantic, then along new routes to India and the Far East, eventually encompassing the entire globe.

Some credit the Scientific Revolution, with its proliferation of new technologies from compasses to cannons, an unprecedented explosion of discoveries and inventions. Some credit the slave trade and the enormous profits made from working to death millions and millions of African slaves which fuelled the industrial revolution and paid for the armies which subjugated India.

Lenin thought it was the unique way European capitalism had first perfected techniques to exploit the proletariat in the home countries and then applied the same techniques to subjugate less advanced nations, and that the process would inevitably lead to a global capitalist war once the whole world was colonised.

John Darwin

So John Darwin’s book, which sets out to answer all these questions and many more, is hardly a pioneering work; it is following an extremely well-trodden path. BUT it does so in a way which feels wonderfully new, refreshing and exciting. This is a brilliant book. If you were only going to read one book about imperialism, this is probably The One.

For at least three reasons:

1. Darwin appears to have mastered the enormous revisionist literature generated over the past thirty years or more, which rubbishes any idea of innate European superiority, which looks for far more subtle and persuasive reasons – so that reading this book means you can feel yourself reaping the benefits of hundreds of other more detailed & specific studies. He is not himself oppressively politically correct, but he is on the right side of all the modern trends in historical thought (i.e. is aware of feminist, BAME and post-colonial studies).

2. Darwin pays a lot more attention than is usual to all the other cultures which co-existed alongside Europe for so long (Islam, the Ottoman Empire, the Mughal Empire, the Safavid Empire, the Chinese Empire, Japan, all are treated in fascinating detail and given almost as much space as Europe, more, in the earlier chapters) so that reading this book you learn an immense amount about the history of these other cultures over the same period.

3. Above all, Darwin paints a far more believable and plausible picture than the traditional legend of one smooth, consistent and inevitable ‘Rise of the West’. On the contrary, in Darwin’s version:

the passage from Tamerlane’s times to our own has been far more contested, confused and chance-ridden than the legend suggests – an obvious enough point. But [this book places] Europe (and the West) in a much larger context: amid the empire-, state- and culture-building projects of other parts of Eurasia. Only thus, it is argued, can the course, nature, scale and limits of Europe’s expansion be properly grasped, and the jumbled origins of our contemporary world become a little clearer.

‘Jumbled origins’, my God yes. And what a jumble!

Why start with Tamerlane?

Tamerlane the Eurasian conqueror died in 1405. Darwin takes his death as marking the end of an epoch, an era inaugurated by the vast wave of conquest led across central Asia by Genghis Khan starting around 1200, an era in which one ruler could, potentially, aspire to rule the entire Eurasian landmass.

When Tamerlane was born the ‘known world’ still stretched from China in the East, across central Asia, through the Middle East, along the north African shore and including Europe. Domination of all of China, central Asia, northern India, the Middle East and Europe was, at least in theory, possible, had been achieved by Genghis Khan and his successors, and was the dream which had inspired Tamerlane.

Map of the Mongol Empire created by Genghis Khan

But by the death of Tamerlane the political situation across Eurasia had changed. The growth in organisation, power and sophistication of the Ottoman Empire, the Mamluk state in Egypt and Syria, the Muslim sultanate in north India and above all the resilience of the new Ming dynasty in China, meant this kind of ‘global’ domination was no longer possible. For centuries nomadic tribes had ravaged through Eurasia (before the Mongols it had been the Turks who emerged out of Asia to seize the Middle East and found the Ottoman Dynasty). Now that era was ending.

It was no longer possible to rule the sown from the steppe (p.5)

Moreover, within a few decades of Tamerlane’s demise, Portuguese mariners had begun to explore westwards, first on a small scale colonising the Azores and Canary Islands, but with the long-term result that the Eurasian landmass would never again constitute the ‘entire world’.

What was different about European empires?

Empires are the oldest and most widespread form of government. They are by far the commonest way that human societies have organised themselves: the Assyrians, Babylonians, Egyptians, Persians, the Greek and Roman Empires, the Aztec Empire, the Inca Empire, the Mali Empire, Great Zimbabwe, the Chinese empire, the Nguyễn empire in Vietnam, the Japanese Empire, the Ottoman empire, the Mughal empire, the Russian empire, the Austro-Hungarian empire, to name just a few.

Given this elementary fact about history, why do the west European empires come in for such fierce criticism these days?

Because, Darwin explains, they were qualitatively different.

  1. Because they affected far more parts of the world across far more widespread areas than ever before, and so ‘the constituency of the aggrieved’ is simply larger – much larger – than ever before.
  2. Because they were much more systematic in their rapaciousness. The worst example was surely the Belgian Empire in the Congo, European imperialism stripped of all pretence and exposed as naked greed backed up by appalling brutality. But arguably all the European empires mulcted their colonies of raw materials, treasures and of people more efficiently (brutally) than any others in history.

The result is that it is going to take some time, maybe a lot of time, for the trauma of the impact of the European empires to die down and become what Darwin calls ‘the past’ i.e. the realm of shadowy past events which we don’t think of as affecting us any more.

The imperial legacy is going to affect lots of people, in lots of post-colonial nations, for a long time to come, and they are not going to let us in the old European colonial countries forget it.

Structure

After Tamerlane is divided into nine chapters:

  1. Orientations
  2. Eurasia and the Age of Discovery
  3. The Early Modern Equilibrium (1750s – 1800)
  4. The Eurasian Revolution (1800 – 1830)
  5. The Race Against Time (1830 – 1880)
  6. The Limits of Empire (1880 – 1914)
  7. Towards The Crisis of The World (1914 – 42)
  8. Empire Denied (1945 – 2000)
  9. Tamerlane’s Shadow

A flood of insights

It sounds like reviewer hyperbole but there really is a burst of insights on every page of this book.

It’s awe-inspiring, dazzling, how Darwin can take the elements of tremendously well-known stories (Columbus and the discovery of America, or the Portuguese finding a sea route to India, the first trading stations on the coasts of India or the unequal treaties imposed on China, or the real consequences of the American Revolution) and present them from an entirely new perspective. Again and again on every page he unveils insight after insight. For example:

American

Take the fact – which I knew but had never seen stated so baldly – that the American War of Independence wasn’t about ‘liberty’, it was about land. In the aftermath of the Seven Years War (1756 – 63) the British government had banned the colonists from migrating across the Appalachians into the Mississippi valley (so as to protect the Native Americans and because policing this huge area would be ruinously expensive). The colonists simply wanted to overthrow these restrictions and, as soon as the War of Independence was over (i.e. after the British gave up struggling to retain the rebel colonies in 1783), the rebels set about opening the floodgates to colonising westward.

India

Victorian apologists claimed the British were able to colonise huge India relatively easily because of the superiority of British organisation and energy compared with Oriental sloth and backwardness. In actual fact, Darwin explains it was in part the opposite: it was because the Indians had a relatively advanced agrarian economy, with good routes of communication, business hubs and merchants – an open and well-organised economy, which the British just barged their way into (p.264).

(This reminds me of the case made in The Penguin History of Latin America by Edwin Williamson that Cortés was able to conquer the Aztec and Pissarro the Incas, not because the Indians were backward but precisely because they were the most advanced, centralised and well organised states in Central and South America. The Spanish just installed themselves at the top of a well-ordered and effective administrative system. Against genuinely backward people, like the tribes who lived in the arid Arizona desert or the swamps of Florida or hid in the impenetrable Amazon jungle, the Spanish were helpless, because there was no one emperor to take hostage, or huge administrative bureaucracy to take over – which explains why those areas remained uncolonised for centuries.)

Cultural conservatism

Until about 1830 there was still a theoretical possibility that a resurgent Ottoman or Persian empire, China or Japan, might have reorganised and repelled European colonisers. But a decisive factor which in the end prevented them was the intrinsic conservatism of these cultures. For example, both Chinese and Muslim culture venerated wisdom set down by a wise man (Mohammed, Confucius) at least a millennium earlier, and teachers, professors, civil servants were promoted insofar as they endorsed and parroted these conservative values. At key moments, when they could have adopted more forward-looking ideologies of change, all the other Eurasian cultures plumped for conservatism and sticking to the Old.

Thus, even as it dawned on both China and Japan that they needed to react to the encroachments of the Europeans in the mid-nineteenth century, both countries did so by undertaking not innovations but what they called restorations – the T’ung-chih (‘Union for Order’) restoration in China and the Meiji (‘Enlightened rule’) restoration in Japan (p.270). (Darwin’s description of the background and enactment of both these restorations is riveting.)

The Western concept of Time

Darwin has a fascinating passage about how the Europeans developed a completely new theory of Time (p.208). It was the exploration of America which did this (p.209) because here Europeans encountered, traded and warred with Stone Age people who used bows and arrows and (to start with) had no horses or wheeled vehicles and had never developed anything like a technology. This led European intellectuals to reflect that maybe these people came from an earlier phase of historical development, to develop the new notion that maybe societies evolve and develop and change.

European thinkers quickly invented numerous ‘systems’ suggesting the various ‘stages of development’ which societies progressed through, from the X Age to the Y Age and then on to the Z Age – but they all agreed that the native Americans (and even more so, the Australian aborigines when they were discovered in the 1760s) represented the very earliest stages of society, and that, by contrast, Western society had evolved through all the intervening stages to reach its present state of highly evolved ‘perfection’.

Once you have created mental models like this, it is easy to categorise all the other cultures you encounter (Ottomans, Hindus, China, Japan, Siam, Annamite etc) as somewhere lower or backward on these paths or stages of development.

And being at the top of the tree, why, naturally that gave white Europeans the right to intervene, invade, conquer and administer all the other people of the world in order to ‘raise’ them to the same wonderful level of civilisation as themselves.

18th and 19th

I’ve always been a bit puzzled by the way that, if you read accounts of the European empires, there is this huge difference between the rather amateurish 18th century and the fiercely efficient 19th century. Darwin explains why: in the eighteenth century there were still multiple European players in the imperial game: France was the strongest power on the continent, but she was balanced out by Prussia, Austria and also Spain and Portugal and the Dutch. France’s position as top dog in Europe was admittedly damaged by the Seven Years War but it wasn’t this, it was the Napoleonic Wars which in the end abolished the 18th century balance of power in Europe. Britain emerged from the Napoleonic Wars as the new top dog, with a navy which could beat all-comers, which had hammered the French at the Battle of the Nile and Trafalgar, and which now ruled the waves.

The nineteenth century feels different because Britain’s world-encompassing dominance was different in kind from any empire which ever preceded it.

The absence of Africa

If I have one quibble it’s that I’d like to have learned more about Africa. I take the point that his book is focused on Eurasia and the Eurasian empires (and I did learn a huge amount about Persia, the Moghul empire, China and Japan) and that all sub-Saharan Africa was cut off from Eurasia by the Sahara, but still… it feels like an omission.

And a woke reader might well object to the relative rareness of Darwin’s references to the African slave trade. He refers to it a few times, but his interest is not there; it’s in identifying exactly where Europe was like or unlike the rival empires of Eurasia, in culture and science and social organisation and economics. That’s his focus.

The expansion of the Russian empire

If Africa is disappointingly absent, an unexpected emphasis is placed in each chapter on the imperial growth of Russia. I knew next to nothing about this. A quick surf on Amazon suggests that almost all the books you can get about the Russian ’empire’ are about the fall of the Romanovs and the Bolshevik Revolution and then Lenin or Stalin’s creation of a Bolshevik empire which expanded into Eastern Europe after the war. That’s to say it’s almost all about twentieth century Russia (with the exception of a crop of ad hoc biographies of Peter the Great or Catherine the Great).

So it was thrilling to read Darwin give what amounts to a sustained account and explanation of the growth of the Kingdom of Muscovy from the 1400s onwards, describing how it expanded west (against Poland, the Baltic states, Sweden), south towards the Black Sea, south-west into the Balkans – but most of all how Russian power was steadily expanded East across the vast inhospitable tundra of Siberia until Russian power reached the Pacific.

It is odd, isn’t it, bizarre, uncanny, that a nation that likes to think of itself as ‘European’ has a huge coastline on the Pacific Ocean and to this day squabbles about the ownership of small islands with Japan!

The process of Russian expansion involved just as much conquering of the ‘primitive’ tribal peoples who hunted and trapped in the huge landmass of Siberia as the conquest of, say, Canada or America, but you never read about it, do you? Can you name any of the many native tribes the Russians fought and conquered? No. Are there any books about the Settling of the East as there are thousands and thousands about the conquest of the American West? Nope. It is a historical black hole.

But Darwin’s account of the growth of the Russian Empire is not only interesting as filling in what – for me at any rate – is a big hole in my knowledge. It is also fascinating because of the role Russian expansion played again and again in the game of Eurasian Risk which his book describes. At key moments Russian pressure from the North distracted the attention of the Ottoman Empire from making more offensive thrusts into Europe (the Ottomans famously encroached right up to the walls of Vienna in 1526 and then again in 1683).

When the Russians finally achieved one of their territorial goals and seized the Crimea in 1783, as a result of the Russo-Turkish War, it had the effect, Darwin explains, of cracking the Ottoman Empire open ‘like an oyster’. For centuries the Black Sea had been an Ottoman lake and a cheaply defensible frontier. Now, at a stroke, it became a massive vulnerability which needed costly defence (p.175).

And suddenly, seeing it all from the Russian perspective, this sheds new light on the timeworn story of the decline of the Ottoman Empire which I only know about from the later 19th century and from the British perspective. For Darwin the role of Russian expansionism was vital not only in itself, but for the hemming in and attritional impact it had on the other Eurasian empires – undermining the Ottomans, making the Chinese paranoid because Russian expansion around its northern borders added to China’s sense of being encircled and endangered, a sense that contributed even more to its risk-averse policy of doubling down on its traditional cultural and political and economic traditions, and refusing to see anything of merit in the Westerners’ technology or crude diplomacy. A policy which eventually led to the Chinese empire’s complete collapse in 1911.

And of course the Russians actually went to war with imperial Japan in 1905.

Numbered lists

Darwin likes making numbered lists. There’s one on almost every page. They rarely go higher than three. Here are some examples to give a flavour of his careful, forensic and yet thrillingly insightful way of explaining things.

The 18th century geopolitical equilibrium

The geopolitical revolution which ended the long equilibrium of the 18th century had three major effects:

  1. The North American interior and the new lands in the Pacific would soon become huge extensions of European territory, the ‘new Europes’.
  2. As a result of the Napoleonic war, the mercantile ‘zoning’ system which had reflected the delicate balance of power among European powers was swept away and replaced with almost complete control of the world’s oceans by the British Navy.
  3. Darwin gives a detailed description of why Mughal control of North India was disrupted by invasions by conquerors from the north, first Iran then Afghanistan, who weakened central Indian power at just the moment the British started expanding from their base in Bengal. Complex geopolitical interactions.

The so-called stagnation of the other Eurasian powers can be characterised by:

  1. In both China and the Islamic world classical, literary cultures dominated the intellectual and administrative elites – the test of intellectual acumen was fitting all new observations into the existing mindset, prizes went to those who could do so with the least disruption possible.
  2. Cultural and intellectual authority was vested in scribal elites backed up by political power, both valuing stasis.
  3. Both China and the Islamic world were profoundly indifferent and incurious about the outside world.

The knowledge revolution

Compare and contrast the East’s incuriosity with the ‘West’, which underwent a cognitive and scientific revolution in which merit went to the most disruptive inventors of new theories and technologies, and where Darwin describes an almost obsessive fascination with maps. This was supercharged by Captain Cook’s three huge expeditions around the Pacific, resulting in books and maps which were widely bought and discussed, and which formed the basis of the trade routes which followed in his wake, and then the transportation of large numbers of convicts to populate Australia’s big empty spaces (about 164,000 convicts were transported to the Australian colonies between 1788 and 1868).

Traumatic impact of the Napoleonic Wars

I hadn’t quite realised that the Napoleonic Wars had such a traumatising effect on the governments of the main European powers who emerged in its aftermath: Britain, France, Prussia, Austria and Russia. Very broadly speaking there was peace between the European powers between the 1830s and 1880s. Of course there was the Crimean War (Britain, France and Turkey containing Russia’s imperial expansion), war between Austria and Prussia (1866) and the Franco-Prussian War. But all these were contained by the system, were mostly of short duration and never threatened to unravel into the kind of general conflict which ravaged Europe under Napoleon.

Thus, from the imperial point of view, the long peace had four results:

  1. The Royal Navy’s policing of all trade routes across the Atlantic and between Europe and Asia kept trade routes open throughout the era and kept costs down for everyone.
  2. The balance of power which the European powers maintained among themselves discouraged intervention in either North or South America and allowed America to develop economically as if it had no enemies – a rare occurrence for any nation in history.
  3. The post-Napoleonic balance of power in Europe encouraged everyone to tread carefully in their imperial rivalries.
  4. Geo-political stability in Europe allowed the growth across the continent of something like a European ideology. This was ‘liberalism’ – a nexus of beliefs involving the need for old-style autocratic power to be tempered by the advice of representatives of the new middle class, and the importance of that middle class in the new technologies and economics unleashed by the industrial revolution and in founding and administering the growing colonies abroad.

Emigration

Emigration from Europe to the New World was a trickle in the 1830s but had become a flood by the 1850s. Between 1850 and 1880 over eight million people left Europe, mostly for America.

  1. This mass emigration relieved the Old World of its rural overcrowding and transferred people to an environment where they could be much more productive.
  2. Many of the emigrants were in fact skilled artisans. Moving to an exceptionally benign environment, a vast empty continent rich in resources, turbo-charged the American economy with the result that by the 1880s it was the largest in the world.

Fast

His chapter The Race Against Time brings out a whole area, an entire concept, I’ve never come across before, which is that part of the reason European colonisation was successful was it was so fast. Not just that Western advances in military technology – the lightning advances in ships and artillery and guns – ran far ahead of anything the other empires could come up with – but that the entire package of international finance, trade routes, complex webs sending raw materials back home and re-exporting manufactured goods, the sudden flinging of railways all across the world’s landmasses, the erection of telegraphs to flash knowledge of markets, prices of goods, or political turmoil back from colonies to the European centre – all of this happened too quickly for the rival empires (Ottoman, Japan, China etc) to stand any chance of catching up.

Gold rushes

This sense of leaping, hurtling speed was turbo-charged by literal gold rushes, whether in the American West in the 1840s or in South Africa where it was first gold then diamonds. Suddenly tens of thousands of white men turned up, quickly followed by townships full of traders and artisans, then the railway, the telegraph, the sheriffs with their guns – all far faster than any native American or South African cultures could hope to match or even understand.

Shallow

And this leads onto another massive idea which reverberates through the rest of the book and which really changed my understanding. This is that, as the spread of empire became faster and faster, reaching a kind of hysterical speed in the so-called Scramble For Africa in the 1880s (the phrase was, apparently, coined by the London Times in 1884) it meant that there was something increasingly shallow about its rule, especially in Africa.

The Scramble for Africa

Darwin says that most radical woke historians take the quick division of Africa in the 1880s and 1890s as a kind of epitome of European imperialism, but that it was in fact the opposite, and extremely unrepresentative of the development of the European imperialisms.

The Scramble happened very quickly, markedly unlike the piecemeal conquest of Central, Southern of North America, or India, which took centuries.

The Scramble took place with almost no conflict between the European powers – in fact they agreed to partitions and drew up lines in a very equable way at the Congress of Berlin in 1885. Other colonies (from the Incas to India) were colonised because there were organised civilisations which could be co-opted, whereas a distinctive feature about Africa (‘historians broadly agree about one vital fact’ p.314) was that people were in short supply. Africa was undermanned or underpeopled. There were few organised states or kingdoms because there simply wasn’t the density of population which lends itself to trading routes, settled farmers and merchants – all the groups who can be taxed to create a king and aristocracy.

Africans hadn’t progressed to centralised states as humans had in Eurasia or central America because there weren’t enough of them. Hence the poverty and the lack of resistance which most of the conquerors encountered in most of Africa.

In fact the result of all this was that most of the European governments weren’t that keen on colonising Africa. It was going to cost a lot of money and there weren’t the obvious revenue streams that they had found in a well-established economy like India.

What drove the Scramble for Africa more than anything else was adventurers on the ground – dreamers and fantasists and ambitious army officers and business men and empire builders who kept on taking unilateral action which then pitched the home government into a quandary – deny their adventurers and pass up the opportunity to win territory to a rival, or reluctantly support them and get enmeshed in all kinds of messy responsibilities.

For example, in the mid-1880s a huge swathe of West Africa between the desert and the forest was seized by a buccaneering group of French marine officers under Commandant Louis Archinard, and their black rank and file. In a few years these adventurers brought some two million square miles into France’s empire. The government back in Paris felt compelled to back them up which meant sending out more troops, police and so on, which would cost money.

Meanwhile, modern communications had been invented, the era of mass media had arrived, and the adventuring soldiers and privateers had friends and boosters in the popular press who could be counted on to write leading articles about ‘the white man’s burden’ and the torch of civilisation and ask: ‘Isn’t the government going to defend our brave boys?’, until reluctant democratic governments were forced to cough up support. Modern-day liberals often forget that imperialism was wildly popular. It often wasn’t imperialist or rapacious governments or the ruling class which prompted conquest, but popular sentiment, jingoism, which couldn’t be ignored in modern democracies.

Darwin on every page, describes and explains the deep economic, trade and financial structures which the West put in place during the nineteenth century and which eventually underpinned an unstoppable steamroller of annexation, protectorates, short colonial wars and long-term occupation.

The Congress of Berlin

The Congress of Berlin helped to formalise the carving up of Africa, and so it has come to be thought of as evil and iniquitous, particularly by BAME and woke historians. But once again Darwin makes you stop and think when he compares the success of the congress at reaching peaceful agreements between the squabbling European powers – and what happened in 1914 over a flare-up in the Balkans.

If only Bismarck had been around in 1914 to suggest that, instead of rapidly mobilising to confront each other, the powers of Europe had once again been invited for tea and cake at the Reichstag to discuss their differences like gentlemen and come to an equable agreement.

Seen from this perspective, the Berlin Congress is not so much an evil colonialist conspiracy, but an extremely successful event which avoided any wars between the European powers for nearly thirty years. Africa was going to be colonised anyway because human events have a logic of their own: the success was in doing so without sparking a European conflagration.

The Scramble for China

The Scramble for China is not as well known as its African counterpart,  the competition to gain ‘treaty ports’ on the Chinese coast, impose unfair trading terms on the Chinese and so on.

As usual, though, Darwin comes at it from a much wider angle and makes one massive point I hadn’t registered before, which is that Russia very much wanted to seize the northern part of China to add to its far eastern domains; Russia really wanted to carve China up, but Britain didn’t. And if Britain, the greatest trading, economic and naval power in the world, wasn’t onside, then it wouldn’t happen. There wasn’t a genuine Scramble for China because Britain didn’t want one.

Why not? Darwin quotes a Foreign Office official simply saying, ‘We don’t want another India.’ One enormous third world country to try and administer with its hundreds of ethnic groups and parties growing more restive by the year, was quite enough.

Also, by the turn of the century, the Brits had become paranoid about Russia’s intentions to conquer Afghanistan and march into North India. If they partitioned China with Russia, that would mean policing an even longer frontier even further way against an aggressive imperialist power ready to pounce the moment our guard was down.

Summary

This is an absolutely brilliant book. I don’t think I’ve ever come across so many dazzling insights and revelations and entirely new ways of thinking about a time-worn subject in one volume.

This is the book to give anyone who’s interested not just in ‘the rise of the West’ but how the whole concept of ‘the West’ emerged, for a fascinating description not just of the European empires but of all the empires across Eurasia – Ottoman, Persian, Moghul, Chinese and Japanese – and how history – at this level – consists of the endless juggling for power of these enduring power blocs, the endless and endlessly

complex history of empire-, state- and culture-building. (p.490)

And of course it all leads up to where we are today: a resurgent Russia flexing its muscles in Ukraine and Crimea; China wielding its vast economic power and brutally oppressing its colonial subjects in Tibet and Xinkiang, while buying land, resources and influence across Africa. And both Russia and China using social media and the internet in ways we don’t yet fully understand in order to undermine the West.

And Turkey, keen as its rulers of all colours have been since the Ottoman days, to keep the Kurds down. And Iran, as its rulers have done for a thousand years, continually seeking new ways to extend its influence around the Gulf, across Syria and to the Mediterranean, in eternal rivalry with the Arab world which, in our time, means Saudi Arabia, against whom Iran is fighting a proxy war in the Yemen.

Darwin’s books really drives home the way the faces and the ideologies may change, but the fundamental geopolitical realities endure, and with them the crudeness and brutality of the tools each empire employs.

If you let ‘morality’, especially modern woke morality, interfere with your analysis of this level of geopolitics, you will understand nothing. At this level it always has and always will be about power and influence, dominating trade and ensuring raw resources, and behind it all the never-ending quest for ‘security’.

At this level, it isn’t about following narrow, English notions of morality. Getting hung up on that only gets in the way of grasping the utterly amoral forces at play everywhere in the world today, just as they’ve always been.

Darwin stands up for intelligence and insight, for careful analysis and, above all, for a realistic grasp of human nature and human society – deeply, profoundly flawed and sometimes pitiful and wretched though both routinely are. He takes an adult view. It is absolutely thrilling and a privilege to be at his side as he explains and analysis this enormous history with such confidence and with so many brilliant ideas and insights.


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Conquerors: How Portugal Forged the First Global Empire by Roger Crowley (2015)

Our Lord has done great things for us, because he wanted us to accomplish a deed so magnificent that it surpasses even what we have prayed for… I have burned the town and killed everyone. For four days without any pause our men have slaughtered… wherever we have been able to get into we haven’t spared the life of a single Muslim. We have herded them into the mosques and set them on fire… We have estimated the number of dead Muslim men and women at six thousand. It was, Sire, a very fine deed. (Afonso de Albuquerque describing the Portuguese capture of Goa on 25 November 1510, p.286)

In 1500 the Indian Ocean was the scene of sophisticated trading networks which had been centuries in the making. Muslim traders from the ‘Swahili Coast’ of Africa traded up the coast to the Red Sea and across land to Cairo, heart of the Muslim world, while other traders crossed the ocean eastwards to the coast of India, where Hindu rajas ran a number of seaports offering hospitality to communities of Muslims and Jews in a complex multi-ethnic web.

The trading routes were well established and the commodities – such as pepper, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and mace – were managed via a familiar set of tariffs and customs. Even if you were caught by one of the many pirates who patrolled the sea, there were well established procedures for handing over a percentage of your cargo and being allowed to continue on your way.

All this was dramatically changed by the sudden arrival in 1497 of the super-violent Portuguese, who had orders from their king and from the pope:

  • to destroy all Muslim bases and ships
  • to establish European forts at all convenient harbours
  • to bully all local rulers into proclaiming complete subservience to the King of Portugal
  • to build churches and convert the heathens to Christianity

This is the story of how an idyllic, essentially peaceful, well ordered and multicultural world was smashed to pieces by the cannons, muskets and unbelievable savagery of barbarian Europeans. This book is a revelation. I had no idea that the Portuguese ‘explorers’ of the ‘Age of Discovery’ were quite such savage sadists.

Massacre of the Miri

Probably the most notorious incident, which epitomises the behaviour and attitudes of the invaders, was the massacre of the Muslim pilgrim ship Miri.

The Portuguese sent their ships to conquer the Indian Ocean in large groups or ‘armadas’.

On September 29, 1502, the fourth great Portuguese Armada spotted a large merchant ship carrying Muslim pilgrims returning from Mecca. The ship, the Miri, was identified as belonging to al-Fanqi, thought to be the commercial agent representing Mecca – and the interests of the Muslim Mamluk dynasty in Cairo – in Calicut, one of the commercial seaports on the west India coast.

Portuguese Captain Matoso cornered the pilgrim ship which surrendered quickly, the captain and passengers imagining they would be able to buy off these ‘pirates’ in the traditional manner. But these were not pirates; they were Christians or, as they would come to be recognised around the Indian Ocean, sadistic, uncivilised barbarian murderers.

Commander of the Armada, Vasco da Gama, ignored all the offers of gold or cargo. His Portuguese crew plundered the ship, stole all its cargo and then made it plain that he planned to burn the ship with all its passengers – men, women and children – on board. As this realisation sank in the civilian passengers desperately attacked the Portuguese with stone and bare hands, but were themselves shot down by muskets and cannon from the Portuguese ships.

On October 3, 1502, having gutted the Miri of all its valuables, the Portuguese locked all the remaining passengers in the hold and the ship was burnt and sunk by artillery. It took several days to go down completely. Portuguese soldiers rowed around the waters on longboats mercilessly spearing survivors.

All in all it was a fine example of:

The honour code of the fidalgos with its rooted hatred of Islam and its unbending belief in retribution and punitive revenge. (p.144)

the honour code which, as Crowley emphasises, inspired the Portuguese voyages of conquest and terror.

The Calicut massacre

It helps to explain this behaviour, and put it in context, if you know about the Calicut Massacre. Back in December 1500 the Second Portuguese India Armada, under the command of Pedro Álvares Cabral, had gotten frustrated at the slow pace at which his ships were being filled with spices at Calicut, the largest spice port on the western coast of India, despite having made an agreement with its raja or zamorin.

To hurry things along Cabral ordered the seizure of an Arab merchant ship from Jeddah, then loading up with spices nearby in the harbour. Cabral claimed that, as the Zamorin had promised the Portuguese priority in the spice markets, the cargo was rightfully theirs anyway.

Incensed by this theft, the Arab merchants around the quay started a riot and led the rioters to the ‘factory’ or warehouse which the Portuguese had only just finished building to store their booty. The Portuguese onboard the ships in the harbour watched helplessly while the Calicut mob successfully stormed the ‘factory’, massacring 50 of the Portuguese inhabitants, including some Franciscan friars.

Once the riot had quietened down, Cabral sent to the Zamorin asking for redress. When it wasn’t forthcoming, Cabral seized around ten Arab merchant ships in the harbour, confiscating their cargoes, killing their crews, and burning their ships. Blaming the Zamorin for doing nothing to stop the riot, Cabral then ordered all the guns from his fleet to bombard Calicut indiscriminately for a full day, wreaking immense damage, killing many citizens and starting fires which burnt entire quarters of the town.

Crowley shows us again and again how one bad deed, a bit of impatience or a slight cultural misunderstanding was liable to blow up, in Portuguese hands, into explosions of super-destructive wrath and mass murder.

The crusader mentality

It helps to understand the Portuguese approach a bit more if you realise that the Portuguese kings – John I (1481-1595) and Manuel I (1495-1521) – didn’t send out explorers and scientists – they sent warriors. And that these warriors were still steeped in the aggressive anti-Muslim ideology of the crusades.

Crowley’s narrative sets the tone by going back nearly a century before the Portuguese entered the Indian ocean, to describe the ‘crusade’ of an earlier generation when, in 1415, Portuguese crusaders attacked Ceuta, an enclave of Muslim pirates on the north coast of Africa. The Ceuta pirates had been a pest to Portuguese shipping for generations, and the Portuguese finally had enough, stormed and sacked it.

Having established the sense of antagonism between Muslims and Christians, Cowley leaps forward to the next significant moment, to when the Muslim Ottoman armies took Constantinople in 1453. The fall of Constantinople to the Muslims sent shocks waves throughout Christian Europe.

  • It made Christian kings, and their peoples, all over Europe feel threatened
  • It cut off trade routes to the East, for spices and so on

1. The quest for new routes to the spice trade

In other words the fall of Constantinople provided a keen commercial incentive to navigators, explorers and entrepreneurs to come up with alternative ways of reaching the Spice Islands by sea. While in the 1490s Christopher Columbus was trying to persuade the King of Spain to fund his idea of sailing west, around the world, to reach the Indies, the King of Portugal was persuaded to fund expeditions in the opposite direction – down the coast of Africa with the hope that it would be easier to cruise around Africa and reach the Spice Islands by heading East.

The spices in question included the five ‘glorious spices’ – pepper, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and mace – but also ginger, cardamom, tamarind, balms and aromatics like wormwood, Socotra aloe, galbanum, camphor and myrrh.

Also brought back from India were dyes like lac, indigo and dyewood and precious ornamental objects and materials like ivory, ebony and pearls. All these good fetched up to ten times as much on the quaysides of Lisbon or Venice as they cost to buy in Calicut. But that was when they had been transhipped from warehouses in the ports of the Middle East. The conquest of Constantinople reduced the transhipment trade and led to a more aggressive attitude from Muslim traders, which badly hurt the commercial prosperity of Venice, in particular.

2. Outflanking Islam

But the aim of the explorers was not only to get commercial access to the spice trade. throughout the Middle Ages it had been widely believed that Christianity had been carried by the apostle James and others, deep into Africa, into Arabia, and even as far as India.

So there was a military element to the expeditions. Christian strategists thought that, if the explorers could make contact with the Christian communities which were believed to exist in faraway India, and were able to link up – then together they would be able to surround, the European armies attacking from the west, the newly awakened Indian Christian armies attacking from the East.

In other words, alongside the element of exploration, ran an aggressive continuation of the fierce anti-Muslim, crusading mentality of John and Manuel’s medieval forebears.

This helps to explain the unremitting anti-Muslim hostility of the commanders of all the great Portuguese Armadas to the East. Not only did their kings demand it, not only was it part of their explicit, written instructions (which survive to this day), but their conquering mentality was backed up by the full force of the pope and the Holy Catholic Church.

The whole European apparatus of state power, religious intolerance, and the technology of war – metal armour and huge shipboard cannons – was brought to bear on the inhabitants of the Indian Ocean.

Wage war and total destruction… by all the means you best can by land and sea so that everything possible is destroyed. (The Regimento or instructions given by King Manuel I to Dom Francisco de Almeida in 1505)

Thus it was that warrior-sailors like the Sodré brothers or the du Albuquerque cousins received orders quite simply to destroy all Muslim ships and trade between the Red Sea and Calicut.

Sadism and intimidation were seen as legitimate tactics. The reader loses count of the number of local hostages, ambassadors and civilians who are taken by the Portuguese who, if anything displeases them, proceed to hang their hostages from the yardarms, before dismembering them and returning their scattered body parts to their horrified relatives waiting on shore. This happens lots of times.

When Vicente Sodré intercepted a large Muslim ship carrying a full cargo of treasure, commanded by the wealthy and well-known merchant Mayimama Marakkar, Vicente had Marakkar stripped naked, tied to the mast, whipped and then subjected to the Portuguese practice of merdimboca or ‘shit in the mouth’ – the name says it all – with the added refinement that the Portuguese forced Marakkar – an eminent and pious Muslim – to eat pork and bacon fat (p.141).

Deliberately offensive, determined to rule by Terror, fuelled by genocidal racism, unflinching, unbending and merciless, the Portuguese conquerors, in this telling, seem like the Nazis of their day.

Conquerors

So this is the story which Crowley’s book tells: the story of how tiny Portugal, at the far western tip of Europe, managed in thirty or so years, from the late 1490s to the 1520s, to establish the first global empire in world history – in reality a set of connected outposts dotted along the west and east coasts of Africa, the west coast of India – before moving on to explore the East Indies – all the while pursuing this policy of unremitting intimidation and extreme violence. It’s a harrowing read. Noses are slit and hands chopped off on pretty much every page.

Conquerors is divided into three parts:

  1. Reconnaissance: the Route to the Indies (1483-99)
  2. Contest: Monopolies and Holy War (1500-1510)
  3. Conquest: The Lion of the Sea (1510-1520)

Over and above the narrative of events, we learn a couple of Big Things:

1. How to round the Cape of Good Hope

The navigational breakthrough which allowed all this to happen was the discovery of how to round the Cape at the southernmost tip of Africa. For generations Portuguese ships had hugged the coast of Africa as they tentatively explored south and this meant that they struggled with all kinds of headwinds, shoals and rocks, particularly as they rounded the big bulge and struggled east into the Gulf of Guinea. The net result was that by 1460 they had established maps and stopping points at the Azores, Madeira, but only as far south along the African coast as the river Senegal and Sierra Leone.

The Great Breakthrough was to abandon the coast altogether and give in to the strong north-easterly winds which blew sailing ships south and west out into big Atlantic – and then, half way down the coast of Brazil, to switch direction back east, and let the strong west winds blow you clean back across the Atlantic and under the Cape of Good Hope. See the red line on the map, below. This immensely significant discovery was made in the 1460s.

That’s if things went well. Which they often didn’t – with calamitous results. Crowley reports that of the 5,500 Portuguese men who went to India between 1497 (the date of Vasco de Gama’s first successful rounding of the Cape), 1,800 – 35% – did not return. Most drowned at sea.

All the armadas suffered significant loss of life to shipwreck and drowning.

Outward and Inbound routes of the Portuguese Indian Armadas in the 1500s (source: Wikipedia)

Outward and Inbound routes of the Portuguese Indian Armadas in the 1500s (source: Wikipedia)

2. The accidental discovery of Brazil

The Second Portuguese India Armada, assembled in 1500 on the order of Manuel I and commanded by Pedro Álvares Cabral, followed the strategy of heading west and south into the Atlantic in order to catch easterly winds to blow them round the tip of Africa. But the ships went so far that they sighted a new land in the west, landed and claimed it for Portugal.

It was Brazil, whose history as a western colony begins then, in April 1500, though it was to be some time before anybody made serious attempts to land and chart it, and Crowley makes no further mention of it.

3. Rivalry with Venice

I knew the Portuguese were rivals with the Spanish for the discovery and exploration of new worlds. I hadn’t realised that the creation of a new route to the Spice Islands rocked the basis of Venice’s maritime trade and empire.

Venice had for generations been the end point for the transmission of spices from India, across the Indian Ocean, through the Red Sea to Suez, across land to Cairo, and by ship to Italy. This was all very expensive, especially the transhipment across land. Venice was rocked when the entire supply chain was jeopardised by the new Portuguese sea route, which resulted in huge amounts of spices and other exotic produce ending up on the quays of Lisbon at a fraction of the Venetian price.

With the result that the Venetian authorities sent spies to Lisbon to find out everything they could about the Portuguese navigators, their new routes and discoveries. They also sent emissaries to the Sultan in Cairo, putting pressure on him to either take punitive measures against the Portuguese, or to lower the taxes he charged on the land journey of Venetian spices from Suez to Cairo and on to Alexandria. Or both.

The sultan refused to do either. Venetian fury.

The rivalry of Venice is sown into the narrative like a silver thread, popping up regularly to remind us of the importance of trade and profit and control of the seas 600 years ago, and of the eternally bickering nature of Europe – a seething hotbed of commercial, religious and political rivals, all determined to outdo each other.

Prester John and a new Crusade

Medieval Christendom was awash with myths and legends. One such tale concerned a mythical Christian King who ruled in wealth and splendour somewhere in Africa, named ‘Prester John’.

When King Manuel sent out his conquerors, it was not only to seize the spice trade of the Indian Ocean, but to make contact with Prester John and unite with his – presumably massive and wealthy army – to march on Mecca or Cairo or Jerusalem, or all three, in order to overthrow Islam for good and liberate the Holy Places.

Vasco de Gama had this aim at the back of his mind as he set off to round the Cape, and so did Afonso de Albuquerque who, at the end of his life, was still planning to establish Christian forts on the Red Sea and to locate the mysterious John in a joint crusade against the Muslim sultan of Cairo.

If anyone was Prester John it was the self-styled ’emperor’ of Ethiopia, who some of the Portuguese did travel to meet, although he turned out – despite all his pomp and pageantry – to be completely unprepared to help any kind of European Christian Crusade against his Muslim neighbours, not least because they completely surrounded and outnumbered him.

Still, it is important to remember that the whole point of funding these expensive armadas into the Indian Ocean wasn’t primarily to open up new commercial routes: for the king and his conquerors, that was a happy side aim, but the Key Goal was to link up with the kingdom of Prester John and the imagined Christian kingdoms of the East, in order to exterminate Islam and liberate the Holy Places.

Crowley’s approach – more adventure than analysis

Crowley’s approach is popular and accessible. He prefers anecdote to analysis.

Thus the book’s prologue opens with a giraffe being presented to the Chinese emperor in Beijing in the early 1400s. This had been collected by the Chinese admiral Admiral Zheng He, who led one of the epic voyages which the Yongle Emperor had commissioned, sending vast Chinese junks into the Indian Ocean in the first decades of the 15th century. The flotillas were intended to stun other nations into recognition of China’s mighty pre-eminence and had no colonising or conquering aim.

The Yongle emperor was succeeded in 1424 by the Hongxi emperor who decided the expeditions were a waste of time and so banned further ocean-going trips, a ban which within a few decades extended to even building large ocean-going vessels: small coastal trading vessels were allowed, but the Ming emperors hunkered down behind their Great Wall and closed their minds to the big world beyond.

One way of looking at it, is that the Hongxi emperor handed over the world to be colonised by European nations.

The point is Crowley gets into this important issue via an anecdote about a giraffe, and doesn’t really unpack it as much as he could.

A few pages later, the main text of the book opens with a detailed account of the erection of a commemorative cross on the coast of Africa by Diogo Cao in August 1483. It was one of several he erected on his exploratory voyage down the west African coast.

In both instances Crowley is following the time-honoured technique of starting a chapter with an arresting image and dramatic scene. The problem is that when he proceeds to fill in the background and what led up to each incident, I think his accounts lack depth and detail. For example, my ears pricked up when he mentioned Henry the Navigator, but Henry’s life and career were only fleetingly referenced in order to get back to the ‘now’ of 1483. I had to turn to Wikipedia to get a fuller account of Henry’s life and importance.

Once on Wikipedia, and reading about Henry the Navigator, I quickly discovered that ‘the invention of the caravel was what made Portugal poised to take the lead in transoceanic exploration’, because of the light manoeuvrability of this new design of ship.

A 15th century Portuguese caravel. it had three masts and a lateen or triangular sail which allowed the caravel to sail against the wind.

A 15th century Portuguese caravel. it had three masts and a lateen or triangular sail which allowed the caravel to sail against the wind.

Crowley certainly has some pictures of caravels, and describes them a bit, but doesn’t really give us enough information to ram home why their design was so game-changing.

It may be relevant that Crowley studied Literature not History at university. He is continually drawn to the dramatic and the picturesque, and skimps on the analytical.

To give another example, Crowley periodically namechecks the various popes who blessed the armadas and gave instructions as to the converting of the heathen and fighting the Unbeliever. He briefly mentions the famous Treaty of Tordesillas of 1494, whereby Pope Alexander VI brokered the deal deciding which parts of the New World would belong to the rivals Spain and Portugal. But there is nowhere any real analysis of the enormous role the popes and the Catholic Church played in the geopolitics behind all this exploring and conquering.

Instead, Crowley is continually drawn to the most vivid and melodramatic moments: battles are described in terms of who got an arrow in the eye, and strategy is more seen as deriving from the raging impatience of this or that Portuguese commander than from higher-level geopolitical imperatives.

The personal, not the wider geo-political situation, is what interests Crowley in Europe and Indian and Islamic politics.

Crowley’s style

Crowley writes the short staccato sentences of a popular thriller – fine if you’re looking for poolside entertainment, but not enough if you’re looking for something with a little more analysis and insight.

It was time to move on. However, the wind thwarted their departure. The wind turned. They were forced back to the island. The sultan tried to make peace overtures but was rebuffed. Ten nervy days ensued. (p.67)

This is thriller writing, or the prose style of a modern historical romance.

Either Crowley, his editors or his publishers decided that hos book would be best marketed as popular, accessible, hair-raising history. Thrilling, gripping and often quite horrible history.

In the rain, with the continuous gunfire, in a tropical hell, soaking and sweating in their rotting clothes, they were increasingly gripped by morbid terror that they were all going to die. (p.275)

He gives us gripping individual scenes, but not so many real insights, let alone overarching analysis or ideas.

Thus, despite the book being some 360 pages long, and including lengthy end notes, I felt I’d only scratched the surface of these seismic events, had been told about the key dates and events, and seen quite a few hands being cut off – but was left wanting to understand more, a lot more, about the geographical, economic, technological and cultural reasons for the success of Portugal’s cruel and barbarous explorers and empire makers.

This feeling was crystallised when the book ended abruptly and without warning with the death of the bloodthirsty visionary, Afonso de Albuquerque, in 1415.

For sure he was a central figure, who grasped the strategic importance of seizing Goa, who tried to storm Aden, who arranged a native coup at Ormuz, who burned Muslim towns and ships without mercy, who chopped the hands and ears off his hostages by the score. By page 330 he had become the dominant figure of the book, almost as if it the book was at one stage intended to be a biography of just him.

So the book ends with his death in 1515 but … the Portuguese Empire had only just got going. There would be at least another century of colonising effort, in Brazil, on the coast of Africa, and further East, into Malaysia, Japan and China. A century more of adventures, wars and complex politicking.

None of that is here. Crowley briefly refers to all that on the last pages of his book, before a few sententious paragraphs about how it all led to globalisation and modern container ships. But of the real establishment and running of the Portuguese Empire which stretched from Brazil to Japan there is in fact nothing.

The book’s title is therefore a bit misleading. It should be titled something more like The generation which founded the Portuguese empire. That would excuse and explain his relatively narrow focus on de Gama, Cabra and Albuquerque, and on the king who commissioned their exploits, Manuel I. Maybe adding Manuel’s dates – 1495-1521 – would make it even clearer.

In fact, with a bit of rewriting, the book could have become Manuel I and the conquerors who founded the Portuguese Empire: that accurately describes its content.

The current title gives the impression that it will be a complete history of the Portuguese Empire – which is why I bought it – and which is very far indeed from being the truth.


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Masterpieces of Chinese Painting 700 to 1900 @ the Victoria and Albert Museum

A stunning exhibition of 70 banners, scrolls, fans and ink paintings covering well over 1,000 years of Chinese art, at the Victoria and Albert Museum. The audiobook is voiced by Juliet Stephenson and is over 2 hours long. This is a big and densely detailed exhibition.

For me Chinese art is a completely new world with almost no bearings or fixed points. I know nothing of Chinese history and recognise none of the artists’ names and know nothing about the aesthetics of Chinese art, the conventions and rules or the schools and movements. The exhibition displays the work by chronological theme, but I’ve stuck to the dates of the dynasties which define Chinese history, giving me at least one framework to cling on to.

Tang Dynasty 618 to 907

The first room concentrates on silk banners showing Buddhist deities. The earliest banner dates from 729 (contemporary with the Venerable Bede in England and just before the Battle of Poitiers in which the Franks stopped the advance of Islamic armies into France). Buddhism, boddhisatvas, banners and offerings. There is a fascinating film of how silk was prepared and treated with alum and gum before painting, as well as an ancient painting showing the process being carried out.

Itinerant monk accompanied by a tiger (9th century)

Song Dynasty 960 to 1279

Buddhism faded, secular subjects, the visible world and landscapes became more popular. Visual explorations of changing weather and the shifting qualities of natural light. The Emperor ruled over 100 million people! Art merged decorative and subtle landscapes with philosophical ideas. Paintings began to be autographed in contrast with the anonymous Tang banners.

The Summer Palace of Ming Huang

There are three Chinese philosophies: Taoism, Confucianism and Buddhism. The Taoist ideas of Yin and Yang were developed and incorporated into theories of art: the active Yang is represented by hills and rocks; by contrast, the passive, feminine Yin is embodied in rivers and lakes.

The Nine dragons scroll was painted about 1244 and shows nine shapes or incarnations or activities of the dragons beloved of Chinese legend. Like many of these artworks, it is not a painting to be hung on a wall but a scroll, meant to be kept in a safe storebox and occasionally taken out, unsfurled and appreciated. From right to left.

Nine Dragons scroll. Detail of a dragon

Most if not all of the images incorporate texts and poetry. The calligraphy of the Chinese characters is just as important as the image itself and the style of both can be highly individual and distinctive. Images and poems were produced by a self-consciously artistic scholar-gentry class.

Thus the text of the poem by the northern Song emperor Huizong describing the flight of the ‘auspicious cranes’ is given just as much space as the image itself.

Auspicious cranes poem and painting by the Emperor Huizong (1112)

Auspicious cranes poem and painting by the Emperor Huizong (1112)

Yuan Dynasty 1271 to 1368 (pronounced ‘un’)

Kublai Khan and his Mongols conquered China and proclaimed a new dynasty in 1271. The scholar-gentry class was dismissed from power and influence. The era is one of solitary, isolated scholars and artists creating wistful, nostalgic poems and images full of nostalgia. Ghostly brushwork in pale ink is typical of the ‘apparition’ painting of the time.

Wu Zhen, Hermit Fisherman on Lake Dongting 14th century (Wikimedia Commons)

Wu Zhen, Hermit Fisherman on Lake Dongting 14th century

Ming Dynasty 1368 to 1644

After Mongol domination, the Ming represented a return to rule by ethnic Han Chinese, leading to a long period of prosperity and stability. Silk and expensive pigments reappeared. The capital moved from Bei-jing (‘jing’ meaning capital and ‘bei’ north) to Nanjing (‘jing’ meaning capital, ‘nan’ meaning ‘south’.)

There is a lovely scroll of Court Ladies in the Inner Palace, playing Chinese forms of golf (!) and football (!). There was renewed scholarly interest in past art and techniques and history.

Du Jin (active 1465–1509), Court Ladies in the Inner Palace

Du Jin (active 1465 to 1509), Court Ladies in the Inner Palace

There are many more portraits of real people and places – for example, Tang Yin whose civil service career was ended by wrongful accusations of bribery made a painting called ‘Pure Dream Beneath a Paulownia Tree’, with accompanying poem:

For this lifetime he is divorced from the thought of rank and fame
This pure sleep is no longer filled with the dreams of grandeur.

Wen Zhengming created an album of views of The Garden of The Inept Administrator, 1551.

Garden of the Inept Administrator, Wen Zhengming

These serene, philosophical and mature images were created soon after England suffered the bonfire of vandalism of the Henrician Reformation, followed by the burnings-at-the-stake of Bloody Mary and the further artistic destruction of Edward VI. Hard not to compare our brutal philistinism with the depth and civilisation of these images. Paintings with names like:

  • Spring Clouds in the Linggu Mountains
  • Deity with Phoenix
  • Pomegranates, Autumn Mallows, Chrysanthemums, Blue Magpies
Pomegranates, Autumn Mallows, Chrysanthemums, Blue Magpies

Pomegranates, Autumn Mallows, Chrysanthemums, Blue Magpies

Qing Dynasty 1644 to 1911 (pronounced ching)

The rise of Traditionalism, the urge to copy what were now seen as the Old Masters of the Chinese tradition, in subject matter, brushstroke, style and calligraphy.

Bamboo and Rocks by Zheng Xie, c 1762

Bamboo and Rocks by Zheng Xie, c 1762

The end

The story of classical Chinese painting ended in the early 20th century, amid the influx of western influences – perspective, realism, the horizon – and the social upheavals accompanying the end of the Chinese empire in 1911. What a tradition! What wonderful, awesome works of art!


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