BOOK REVIEWS

Chinese Nationalism Falls Back on Legendary Ancestor

“Huangling County, Shaanxi: More than 1,000 overseas Chinese and representatives from 20 provinces and cities as well as more than 50,000 local people gathered yesterday in front of the Mausoleum of Huangdi to offer their sacrifices to the emperor who is the legendary ancestor of the Chinese nation.” (1)

These words appeared in an article in The China Daily, on April 6th last year, the day after the traditional Qingming (Pure Brightness) festival. This is the day when the Chinese honour the memory of their ancestors and dead relatives, by going to clean their graves. Sometimes, following customs tinged with popular religion, they may share a meal at the graveside, burn paper money, and tell the departed souls about the main events befalling the clan over the previous year. This particular festival is important among the many popular celebrations which make up the Chinese calendar, not only because it provides the occasion for each individual to display their filial piety (xiaoshun) towards their deceased relatives, but also, and above all, because it is the occasion when the clan draws its members together and reaffirms its solidarity around a central ancestral figure.

In its report of the same gathering, The People’s Daily was more restrained, giving an attendance figure of only 10,000 at the ceremony (2). In fact, this seems closer to the reality of the event, which I was also there to witness. But both articles convey a misleading impression of what happened on that day. They suggest that in that small township in northern Shaanxi Province there was a kind of large scale communion, allowing overseas Chinese to mingle with their compatriots from the interior. In fact, in the morning there was a very official ceremony in the sanctuary, which was tightly sealed off by the police. It was only attended by overseas Chinese and a few regional and central government officials, who were invited by the Shaanxi authorities. In the afternoon, by contrast, the sanctuary was opened to the large crowd who had gathered around it, to allow them too to honour the memory of Huangdi.

Who was Huangdi?

Huangdi means Yellow (huang) Emperor (di). He is one of the great mythical figures of ancient China. According to some records (3), he lived in the Yellow River basin between 2697 and 2599 BC. Starting out as the leader of a small tribe, he is said to have conquered the other tribes in the central plain of northern China through a series of military campaigns, laying the foundations of the first Chinese state. As a great inventor, he is credited with beneficial innovations (4), for which his grateful people called him “ancestor of human civilisation” (renwen shizu). Finally, he is also held to be the ancestor of the Chinese race itself, all of whose members are his direct descendants. This is attested by the way the Chinese call themselves “descendants of the Emperors Huangdi and Yandi” (Yan-Huang zisun). So the honorific title of “legendary ancestor” bestowed on him by the Chinese press is worth exploring; this ancestor is not only the founder of a state, but of a civilisation and a blood lineage. But it is in the little town of Huangling that his sanctuary is to be found. Situated on the edge of the great loess plateaus of northern Shaanxi, half way between the provincial capital, Xi’an, and the former Communist headquarters at Yenan, Huangling’s only claim to fame is the imperial sanctuary. It consists of two parts. There is the tomb itself, at the top of a small mountain (Mount Qiao), and at its base there is the sanctuary. In the latter, at every Qingming Festival for the last 20 years, an official memorial ceremony has been held in honour of Huangdi. This cult was suppressed during the Cultural Revolution and revived in 1979. During the early years of the reform period, the event was relatively small, involving from two to four thousand people until the mid-1980s. It grew in strength in the second half of the decade, with six thousand participants in 1986 and ten thousand in 1988. The Chinese Communist Party figures attending the ceremonies also become more important, and certain top leaders passing through the area have stopped at Huangling to pay their respects to Huangdi, including such people as Zhao Ziyang (5) in 1983, Yao Yilin (6) in 1984, Tian Jiyun (7) in 1986, Hu Qiaomu (8) in 1987, Li Tieying (9) in 1988, Li Ruihuan (10) in 1990 and 1994, and Liu Huaqing (11) in 1994. Another sign of the rising importance of the cult of Huangdi in recent years is the “Foundation for the Yellow Emperor’s Tomb” (Huangdiling jijinhui) which was set up on the initiative of Li Ruihuan to collect funds from China and abroad for the renovation of the sanctuary. The first phase, which began in 1992 and was completed this year, cost 83 million yuan, and the second phase due to begin soon has a budget of 70 million. At present, the foundation has received a total of 38 million yuan, and the remaining costs have been contributed by the State and various provinces. All these indications reveal the importance attached to the cult of Huangdi by the regime. In addition, the tomb of Huangdi appears in the list of the hundred places of national importance drawn up by the “campaign for patriotic education” (12), which was launched by Peking after the repression of the students’ movement in 1989.

An official cult with a loaded past

But where exactly does this cult come from? In his Historical Memoirs the historian Sima Qian (145-86 BC) reports that his sovereign, the Emperor Han Wudi, while passing through the region on his return from a military campaign in the Ordos, held a ceremony to honour Huangdi on Mount Qiao in 110 BC. Thereafter, emperors of many dynasties, particularly the Sung, the Ming, and the Qing, sent envoys to pay him similar homage. The temple dedicated to him at the foot of Mount Qiao was built in the Sung dynasty, around 969-972 AD, and was renovated on several subsequent occasions. The local monographs (xianzhi) from the Huangling district mention seven imperial ceremonies held in Huangling in the Ming dynasty, and 24 under the Qing.

Between the late nineteenth and the early twentieth centuries the cult underwent a marked change. From being an instrument of imperial legitimation, the cult of Huangdi became a means of rallying nationalist feeling. Thus the local Huangling records mention that in the Autumn of 1908, three years before the fall of the empire, the provincial section of the Brotherhood League (Tongmenghui) sent 16 people to honour the tomb of Huangdi (13). A funeral address, whose purpose is to inform the ancestors of the major events which have befallen his descendants, was read on that occasion:

“Around the year 1644, the country was dismembered like a criminal, the barbarians from Jianzhou (14) took advantage of our internal disorder, the Tartar horsemen from the north swept down on our capital Peking, plundered the emblems of our imperial ranks, sowed disorder in our [traditional] vestments, occupied our land, and enslaved our people. Everywhere in the land of the enlightened (15), everywhere in the regions of Liang (16), there spread a fetid stench, and everywhere men of our culture prepared to submit to oppression. […] The soldiers with the banners have set up their garrisons, and everywhere in the remnants of the realm of the Great Yu (17) are the Manchus. And even the ten day massacres at Yangzhou (18), the three successive massacres at Jiading (19), and the memory of two hundred years of evil fortune still cannot outweigh the humiliation of the eighteen provinces. […] In addition, for several years now, the nations of Europe and America have us in their sights, each one desiring to control a part of our vast and beautiful land. The Manchu government of the Qing gives free rein to its self-indulgence, with no care for the outrages borne by the country. Being good men afflicted with deep sorrow, our hearts are full of righteous indignation. […] All of us present here, filled with sincere resolve, make a solemn oath before Heaven to fight with all our strength for the restoration [of China]. […] Gathered together here for a single purpose, and laying our plans in secret, we swear jointly to rid ourselves of these pillaging Tartar scum and to restore our former customs.” (20)

To read this text is to understand that the cult of Huangdi changed with the times. From being an instrument for legitimising the power of the emperor, it became a tribune for the expression of the new Chinese nationalist and revolutionary aspirations. After the establishment of the Republic in 1912, this official cult was celebrated in three clearly distinct periods: the Sino-Japanese war (1937-1945), the opening years of the People’s Republic (1952-1963), and the period of the current reforms (since 1979). The second period was not marked by any important celebrations, and the significance of the cult during those years should not be overstated. The explanation is simple. The first period was one of intense nationalist mobilisation to confront Japanese aggression, and it was necessary to find a broad propaganda approach acceptable to communists and Kuomintang nationalists alike. And the third period has been a time of rapid social and economic transformation in China, as it changes from being a planned economy under state control to a much more open system, in which the legimation of the existing order by a socialist discourse no longer corresponds to reality. This growing gap between the social and economic reality in the country and the language of legitimation partly explains why the propaganda has fallen back onto increasingly nationalist themes. By contrast, the middle period was heavily marked by the powerful ideology of Maoism. This was still able to mobilise the population and present a coherent vision of China and her place in the world, which probably explains the slight attention paid by the government in those years to the cult of Huangdi. There remain the two periods which offer favourable conditions for analysing this cult: the Sino-Japanese war and the present reform period.

1937 and 1997: two moments of Chinese nationalism 60 years apart

In order to bring out the distinguishing features of the cult of Huangdi, I have chosen to present the funeral eulogies read out on the eve of the Sino-Japanese war (see the insert: Funeral eulogies from 1937) and on the eve of the return of Hong Kong to China (see the insert: Funeral eulogy from 1997). There are three separate eulogies for 1937 because the second “united front” pact between the CCP and the KMT had been agreed during the previous year after the “Xi’an incident” in order to fight against the Japanese invasion. So in that year, the ceremony in honour of Huangdi was held jointly by the two parties, together with a representative from the national government. But the most interesting point is the way in which the texts from 1937 and 1997 correspond to each other, across the intervening 60 years, and pick up certain similar themes.

The first of these themes is the challenge from outside: the Japanese threat in the first instance, and globalisation in the second. Mao and Zhu De describe the Japanese as “powerful neighbours [who] have turned from the knowledge of virtue” and “brandish a whip” to humiliate and enslave the Chinese. The eulogies from the KMT and the Nanking government allude in more measured and indirect terms to the current situation of the country. The Nationalist party invokes “the infamous Chi You” (21) who came to spread disorder; and the central government only mentions the “sickly vapours which bring disasters”. But the challenge facing China nowadays is the far less threatening one of economic integration into the international system. The 1997 eulogy from the Party does not mention globalisation explicitly, but talks about contemporary “challenges”. For those who follow Chinese current affairs, however, it is obvious that this relatively vague expression corresponds to very real and important social, economic, political, and cultural problems. The reform of the state enterprises threatens to throw a considerable marginalised section of the population onto the street. This is accompanied by large internal population movements, the withdrawal of the state from many areas of responsibility, the rapid growth of inequality and corresponding criminality, mental disorientation in a too rapidly changing world etc. The opening up of China, and her entry into the turbulence of the globalising economy, have certainly confronted her with very demanding “challenges”.

The second theme is closely linked to the first, and concerns the need for Chinese unity to confront the challenges facing the country. In 1937, both communists and nationalists appealed to this higher unity: “the different parties and sections of the people must resolutely unite...” and further on: “the masses in their countless numbers will fight with a single will...” proclaim Mao and Zhu De. For its part, the KMT talked of the alliance of princes coming together to “swear allegiance [to Huangdi]”, and the President of the Republic, Lin Sen (22), praised Huangdi for “completing the unification of the country”. He elaborates further by imagining a lesson being given to the present by the mythical ancestor: “Silently you point the way to our countrymen: a single heart, a single virtuous resolve”. Nowadays, the unity of the nation figures no less prominently on the government’s agenda. The 1997 eulogy alludes to Taiwan, Hong Kong, and the Chinese Diaspora. The fine old formula: “Blood is thicker than water, and brothers share deep feelings” clearly refers to Taiwan, separated from the Mainland by the Taiwan strait. Moreover, the (re)unification of the two sides of the strait is called “an irreversible movement of history”. The eulogy is even more explicit on the subject of Hong Kong, three months before its return: “Today we bring comfort to our founding ancestor: Hong Kong is about to return to the motherland”. As for the Chinese Diaspora, this issue appears under the term “Chinese from the four oceans”. And again, just as in 1937, the unity of the nation is destined to strengthen it, for the issue is the “aspiration to power” and the “development of the zhonghua nation”.

It is worth noting in passing how often this concern with unity is expressed in territorial terms: in 1937, the communists invoked the Ryuku islands, Taiwan, Korea, and northeastern China (Yan, Ji, and the Liaodong peninsula); in 1997 it was Taiwan and Hong Kong. And this brings us to the third major underlying theme of these eulogies: the restoration of past glory and the forging of the present moment as a link in the unbroken chain of Chinese continuity. It is striking how insistently these texts, from 1937 and 1997 alike, bring up the theme of fitting into the long timespan of Chinese history. The idea of an uninterrupted chain of generations going right back to Huangdi is to be found in three of the four texts: “Illustrious founding ancestor… your countless descendants have never ceased to offer you sacrifices… ” (CCP 1937); “When we look at the succession of generations, we can see how it leads right back into the chaos of the beginning” (KMT 1937); “Striding forward, we take our place in the continuity of history ..... ” and “May our consciences be clear in the sight of our ancestors, and may we hand down the fruits of our deeds to our descendants” (CCP 1997). Linked with this theme of continuity is that of restoring China to her former glory. Both nationalists and communists claim to be part of a timeless heritage ans the inheritors of an empire that must be restored and protected. In 1937 Mao and Zhu De speak of “traitors… who have surrendered land to our enemies” and proclaim their goal of restoring to China her “mountains and rivers”. And in 1997, the governor of Shaanxi speaks of “reviving the glorious rule of Eastern civilisation…” If these eulogies are to be taken literally, the restoration of Chinese civilisation would seem to be inseparable from re-establishing her imperial territory. Territoriality identified with civilisation is an explosive mixture in a major power which is still nostalgic for its imperial past, and is quite capable of seeing the reconquest of some of its neighbours as steps towards its recovery.

A fourth theme, and certainly a more problematic one, introduces a wild card into the pack: namely, the definition of the Chinese nation. Leaving aside the eulogy composed by the Nanking government in 1937, the three others use different terms for the Chinese nation. So, the eulogy from the KMT executive committee praises Huangdi for having set up a frontier between the Chinese (Hua) (23) and the barbarians “for ever”. The role of Huangdi as blood ancestor is likewise mentioned in this eulogy. Even more significant is the use of the term zulei whose most common translation is “race, species, common stock” (24). It is useful to recall here that, following the arrival of Western sciences in China in the late nineteenth century (particularly the pseudo-science of social Darwinism), terminology with an inherently racist bias became relatively common (25).

The 1937 communist party eulogy begins with a reference to Huangdi as ancestor by blood lineage: “Illustrious founding ancestor, who are the fount of our hua nation…”, a reference later reinforced by the term “descendants”. So it is a question of a bloodline taken to be real, in the biological sense. The hua nation as a whole constitutes Huangdi’s posterity, as the founding father of a clan is linked to his descendants. But what is this hua nation? Chow Kai-wing points out that for Zhang Binglin “the three terms, Hua, Xia, and Han denoted different aspects of the ‘Chinese’. Hua refers to territoriality, whereas Xia and Han refer to ‘race’.” (26) But is it really as clear cut as that? The term hanjian occurs later, and complicates matters because, although it is used in the general sense of “traitor”, the actual context reminds us that its component characters taken separately mean “traitor to the han nation”. In these eulogies, the term hua seems to refer more to a group with shared lineage than to a territorial entity. In these texts from 1937, hua always refers to people, not land. As for han, it clearly stands for an ethnic group; it is never used to refer to a geographical entity.

What about the eulogy from the same communist party sixty years later? The idea that Huangdi is the founder of the blood lineage of the nation is still there, but the nation is now called by three different names: the huaxia nation, the hua nation, and the zhonghua nation. In this particular context, it seems that hua is an abbreviated form of huaxia, but zhonghua, on the other hand, is a completely new term. The term huaxia has not changed much, as it clearly still refers to an ethnic group, not to a territorial entity. But zhonghua is more problematic, because zhong (middle, centre) is obviously a spatial term. Following the official terminology of the Peking regime, zhonghua would here refer to the Chinese nation (zhonghua minzu) which includes all the 56 national minorities in the People’s Republic. By itself the term zhonghua should be understood as a geographical entity, and zhonghua minzu should be translated as “all the nationalities within the territory of the People’s Republic of China (Zhonghua Renmin Gongheguo)”.

Between empire and nation

But, going beyond details of textual analysis, this brief outline allows us to focus our attention on several key points concerning the reality of contemporary China, whose status is in the balance between nation and empire. In all the texts there is a constant reference to external threats, whether in the form of Japanese invasion or globalisation. This external menace, real or imagined, gives rise to the same internal strategic response: national salvation through unity. This all-inclusive mobilisation is a strategy supported by a deep underlying Chinese way of thinking: the omnipresent binary opposition between the exterior (wai), felt to be unknown, hostile, and potentially dangerous, and the interior (nei) which is reassuring, trustworthy, and supportive. And the cults in honour of Huangdi seem to provide both the occasion and the means to symbolise, strengthen, or even create, this internal unity. But, are these cults a channel through which the various central government agencies claim legitimacy for their authority, or is it rather a question of the return a particular discourse, together with the renewed power of a long enfeebled empire? Or else, on a more banal level, are we just witnessing a huge tourist promotion exercise, along with the creation of personal networks (the famous guanxi) around a consensual figure, in order to involve the overseas Chinese? The cults of Huangdi include all of these things, and no doubt many other things besides. But one thing is certain: these texts provide the key to the way in which the government thinks of the Chinese nation. And such a conception of the nation as unitary, and primordial, in biological and even racial terms, certainly augures ill for the other denizens of the empire, and for those bold enough to seek emancipation from it!

But, for the moment the ceremony is over, and the only echoes among the cypresses on Mount Qiao are the twelve chimes of the bell, symbolising the 120 million descendants of Huangdi, and the 34 drum rolls, representing the 34 provinces (27) of their territory...