The Time the Kaiser Singlehandedly Conquered China
So as anyone who follows this blog will realise, the title is meant ironically, for a number of reasons, the primary one being that the closest the Kaiser ever got to China was St Petersburg. And the Kaiser's leadership was at best a mixed blessing.
But unlike in virtually every other case I've looked at so far in this project, the definitive order for the annexation of Jiaozhou Bay (in the sources named a thousand things, but most consistently Kiautschou-Bucht) was actually given explicitly by the Kaiser. It seems to be the exception that proves the rule, in that it illustrates exactly what a monarch directing foreingn policy might look like. And precisely why he didn't generally do this.
An impulsive grab for terra incognita by a strong Kaiser is certainly not my take home message from my search through the Berlin and Freiburg archives. Most obviously, the navy and the civic administration had been clearing the ground for a trade and coaling station in China for more than decade before it actually happened. The question was only where, when and how. To cut a long story short, through endless reports and careful scientific study, the navy had narrowed the choices down to two spots - Xiamen (Amoy) and Kiautschou. At the time of the Kaiser's intervention, the weight of professional and technical opinion was leaning towards Kiautschou. From the German perspective, the Kaiser was pushing at an open door.
In keeping with imperial calculations made around the world by the Germans and other European powers, Chinese objections were never considered seriously by any branch of the German state, despite modest steps by the Chinese to turn Kiautschou into a Chinese naval facility. But two other imperial spoilers were studied very carefully - the British and the Russians. In fact the British were why the Germans had long given up on their first choice - Zhoushan (Chusan) - as politically unrealisable, given anticipated British objections. In fact the Germans were convinced that they had very little chance of moving into anywhere within striking distance of the Yangtze trading zone that they wanted to move into, because it had been sewn up by the British, with the French looking northward from Tonking.
So seriously were these concerns about Britain taken that they decided that it was easier to pull the rug from underneath the Russians - one of their few clear allies in Europe - than upset the British. For almost two years prior to the German declaration of control over Kiautschau, Russian ships had been anchoring and wintering in the Bay, with the blessing of the Chinese. Rumours also abounded of a Sino-Russian treaty (think Li-Lobanov) that had already offered the Russians naval priority in the region over all other powers.
It was Tirpitz, however, who (having recently been there and favouring Kiautschou over Amoy) wrote a memorandum that declared the Russians had no real plans for Kiautschou, and that the Tsar (led by Sergei Witte) had, in his opinion, taken more coastal territory in the region than they could manage. Others in the naval establishment echoed this sentiment and even suggested that the Russians would thank them for creating a buffer zone between Russian North China and the British South. This loose reasoning was enough for the Kaiser to be convinced that the German navy was simply waiting for a good opportunity to move into the bay.
All wishful thinking, with the Admiralty all too acutely aware of the diplomatic difficulties any such move would present in Europe and in Asia. Immediately prior to the seizure, the Kaiser visited the Tsar in St Petersburg, and asked him point blank what his intentions in the region were. The answer he received was fairly bland. The Russians didn't intend to stay in Kiautschou forever (just like the British assured the French that they didn't intend to stay in Egypt forever), and if they evacuated, then the Germans might conceivably bring their ships into the bay.
Wilhelm II presented this as a big victory, but in fact the Germans were worse off now than they had ever been. Cleverly, the Kaiser had agreed that the Germans would first ask for Russian permission before entering the bay - something they had never done before and that effectively conceded that they played second fiddle to the Russians in the region. But the Kaiser seemed to think that this represented great progress for the German cause.
When two Catholic missionaries were murdered in 1897, the Kaiser ordered German cruisers to occupy Kiautschou. The Germans had pounced, claiming Kiautschou Bay as compensation, and, predictably, enraging the Russians. Most enraging for the Russians was the Kaiser's shabby treatment of the Tsar. Being reminded by Chancellor Hohenlohe that he had promised to ask the Russians for permission to enter (much less annex) the bay, Wilhelm II sent some dismissive "Willy-Nicky" correspondence to the Tsar to the effect of 'you wouldn't have anything against me protecting Germans against the terrible Chinese, would you?' Effectively, the Tsar was presented with fait accompli, and it seriously affected the Russo-German relationship.
As most histories remind us, from the Chinese perspective, this was the worst foreign policy news they'd had since the defeat against Japan in 1895 and the German occupation unleashed a swathe of counterclaims by the other powers, effectively alienating the most suitable naval regions from Chinese control.
More broadly, there are also clear links between these Russian-Japanese-German incursions and the British-backed Hundred Days Reform Movement, which ended with the overthrow of the reformist Qing Emperor and his replacement by the arch-conservative forces led by the figurehead Empress Dowager.
From a writerly persepective, there are a number of avenues for me to pursue, and their exact weighting will only become clearer to me as I work through the material. The Chinese angle on the burgeoning reform movement and its overthrow in the wake of the seizure is tempting, but the document trail is obviously tricky for me, as a Europeanist without Chinese language skills. In most cases, the German interactions are between the ambassador (Heyking) and the Chinese office for foreign affairs, the Tsungli Yamen. I haven't come across explicit correspondence from the Chinese emperor, only from the princes heading the Tsungli Yamen. This is not like the summit diplomacy of Zanzibar, Morocco or Cameroon. But it's something I hope to explore more deeply down the track.
Another angle might be to explore the period when the Kaiser's brother, Prince Heinrich was sent out to manage things, and his interactions with the Qing royal family. But actually that's not the most interesting element of the story to me.
What I think I will end up scrutinising very carefully will be the Russo-German relationship, as played out in China. Here I have to put up my hands and admit the potential Eurocentrism of this concern, but it is the best way to get at the nature and use of the Kaiser's military prerogative and its consequences, which is an important part of my story. In some ways the story is a predictable one - the Kaiser leaps in on something he imagines to be simple, he forces Germany into an untenable situation, and the entire state apparatus of Germany has to dig him out of the hole he has made for himself. Thereafter, the Kaiser retreats, believing his actions to have been a roaring success, but leaving the Foreign Office and Chancellor relieved that they limped through the issue without a war.
But unlike in virtually every other case I've looked at so far in this project, the definitive order for the annexation of Jiaozhou Bay (in the sources named a thousand things, but most consistently Kiautschou-Bucht) was actually given explicitly by the Kaiser. It seems to be the exception that proves the rule, in that it illustrates exactly what a monarch directing foreingn policy might look like. And precisely why he didn't generally do this.
An impulsive grab for terra incognita by a strong Kaiser is certainly not my take home message from my search through the Berlin and Freiburg archives. Most obviously, the navy and the civic administration had been clearing the ground for a trade and coaling station in China for more than decade before it actually happened. The question was only where, when and how. To cut a long story short, through endless reports and careful scientific study, the navy had narrowed the choices down to two spots - Xiamen (Amoy) and Kiautschou. At the time of the Kaiser's intervention, the weight of professional and technical opinion was leaning towards Kiautschou. From the German perspective, the Kaiser was pushing at an open door.
In keeping with imperial calculations made around the world by the Germans and other European powers, Chinese objections were never considered seriously by any branch of the German state, despite modest steps by the Chinese to turn Kiautschou into a Chinese naval facility. But two other imperial spoilers were studied very carefully - the British and the Russians. In fact the British were why the Germans had long given up on their first choice - Zhoushan (Chusan) - as politically unrealisable, given anticipated British objections. In fact the Germans were convinced that they had very little chance of moving into anywhere within striking distance of the Yangtze trading zone that they wanted to move into, because it had been sewn up by the British, with the French looking northward from Tonking.
So seriously were these concerns about Britain taken that they decided that it was easier to pull the rug from underneath the Russians - one of their few clear allies in Europe - than upset the British. For almost two years prior to the German declaration of control over Kiautschau, Russian ships had been anchoring and wintering in the Bay, with the blessing of the Chinese. Rumours also abounded of a Sino-Russian treaty (think Li-Lobanov) that had already offered the Russians naval priority in the region over all other powers.
It was Tirpitz, however, who (having recently been there and favouring Kiautschou over Amoy) wrote a memorandum that declared the Russians had no real plans for Kiautschou, and that the Tsar (led by Sergei Witte) had, in his opinion, taken more coastal territory in the region than they could manage. Others in the naval establishment echoed this sentiment and even suggested that the Russians would thank them for creating a buffer zone between Russian North China and the British South. This loose reasoning was enough for the Kaiser to be convinced that the German navy was simply waiting for a good opportunity to move into the bay.
All wishful thinking, with the Admiralty all too acutely aware of the diplomatic difficulties any such move would present in Europe and in Asia. Immediately prior to the seizure, the Kaiser visited the Tsar in St Petersburg, and asked him point blank what his intentions in the region were. The answer he received was fairly bland. The Russians didn't intend to stay in Kiautschou forever (just like the British assured the French that they didn't intend to stay in Egypt forever), and if they evacuated, then the Germans might conceivably bring their ships into the bay.
Wilhelm II presented this as a big victory, but in fact the Germans were worse off now than they had ever been. Cleverly, the Kaiser had agreed that the Germans would first ask for Russian permission before entering the bay - something they had never done before and that effectively conceded that they played second fiddle to the Russians in the region. But the Kaiser seemed to think that this represented great progress for the German cause.
When two Catholic missionaries were murdered in 1897, the Kaiser ordered German cruisers to occupy Kiautschou. The Germans had pounced, claiming Kiautschou Bay as compensation, and, predictably, enraging the Russians. Most enraging for the Russians was the Kaiser's shabby treatment of the Tsar. Being reminded by Chancellor Hohenlohe that he had promised to ask the Russians for permission to enter (much less annex) the bay, Wilhelm II sent some dismissive "Willy-Nicky" correspondence to the Tsar to the effect of 'you wouldn't have anything against me protecting Germans against the terrible Chinese, would you?' Effectively, the Tsar was presented with fait accompli, and it seriously affected the Russo-German relationship.
As most histories remind us, from the Chinese perspective, this was the worst foreign policy news they'd had since the defeat against Japan in 1895 and the German occupation unleashed a swathe of counterclaims by the other powers, effectively alienating the most suitable naval regions from Chinese control.
More broadly, there are also clear links between these Russian-Japanese-German incursions and the British-backed Hundred Days Reform Movement, which ended with the overthrow of the reformist Qing Emperor and his replacement by the arch-conservative forces led by the figurehead Empress Dowager.
From a writerly persepective, there are a number of avenues for me to pursue, and their exact weighting will only become clearer to me as I work through the material. The Chinese angle on the burgeoning reform movement and its overthrow in the wake of the seizure is tempting, but the document trail is obviously tricky for me, as a Europeanist without Chinese language skills. In most cases, the German interactions are between the ambassador (Heyking) and the Chinese office for foreign affairs, the Tsungli Yamen. I haven't come across explicit correspondence from the Chinese emperor, only from the princes heading the Tsungli Yamen. This is not like the summit diplomacy of Zanzibar, Morocco or Cameroon. But it's something I hope to explore more deeply down the track.
Another angle might be to explore the period when the Kaiser's brother, Prince Heinrich was sent out to manage things, and his interactions with the Qing royal family. But actually that's not the most interesting element of the story to me.
What I think I will end up scrutinising very carefully will be the Russo-German relationship, as played out in China. Here I have to put up my hands and admit the potential Eurocentrism of this concern, but it is the best way to get at the nature and use of the Kaiser's military prerogative and its consequences, which is an important part of my story. In some ways the story is a predictable one - the Kaiser leaps in on something he imagines to be simple, he forces Germany into an untenable situation, and the entire state apparatus of Germany has to dig him out of the hole he has made for himself. Thereafter, the Kaiser retreats, believing his actions to have been a roaring success, but leaving the Foreign Office and Chancellor relieved that they limped through the issue without a war.
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