A History of China (56 page)

Almost two centuries earlier, Tsong-kha-pa (1357–1419) had reformed the dGelugs-pa, the Yellow Sect of Tibetan Buddhism, the other form of that ­religion that attracted some Chinese. The Chinese rulers did not forge the same links that the Mongols of the Yuan had created with the Tibetan religion. Yet the Ming emperors provided elaborate gifts for Tibetan Buddhist envoys and expressed interest in their religion. Information about Tsong-kha-pa’s reputation reached the court, promoting a growing interest in his sect. He had transformed the dGelugs-pa by insisting on celibacy for monks, rooting out magic, demanding a disciplined lifestyle from the monks, and establishing a curriculum for them. News of his rejuvenation of the sect spread to China, and Emperor Yongle repeatedly invited him to court. The ensuing high regard for the sect prompted greater interest and more Chinese conversions to Buddhism.

The changes in material culture belied the Ming’s reputation as staunch ­supporters of isolationism and resisters of innovation. Eyeglasses were introduced from Southeast Asia. Maize reached the Ming, probably circuitously from the New World, via some of the Muslims of Spain, north Africa, and west Asia. Sweet potatoes and peanuts arrived via the Europeans who came by sea to China starting in the early sixteenth century. These crops proved to be boons because they could be grown in inhospitable areas. Food production increased as sweet potatoes and peanuts were planted in soil unsuited to millet, wheat, and other traditional crops. Such an increase contributed to a growth in population in the late sixteenth century and offers a partial explanation for the dramatic jump between the mid seventeenth and mid nineteenth centuries. Tobacco, also from the New World, began to be planted, originally in south China but later in the north as well. It probably reached China through Southeast Asian ­intermediaries and turned out to be a useful cash crop. Although some in the elite initially resisted its introduction, it continued to be grown. Planters even defied government efforts to ban tobacco, and by the middle of the ­seventeenth century it had become accepted throughout society.

The numerous investigations in geography, pharmacology, and botany, among other areas, challenged the perception of the Ming as lacking interest in the outside world and as conservative in its views of the natural universe. Not only were specific individuals seeking to expand their own knowledge of the world but the government too, by supporting specific projects, disclosed its desire for such information. The court sponsored two imperial geographies, the
DaMing yitongzhi
(
Records of the Unity of the Great Ming
) and the
Huanyu tongzhi
(
Comprehensive Records of the Universe
), which offered descriptions of numerous lands. The two works described the customs, the products, and often the topographical features of the foreign territories with which China had relations. Most of this information was based upon the reports presented by the envoys dispatched abroad early in the dynasty. The court was thus well informed about neighboring and distant lands in Asia. In addition, works on foreign relations revealed that the court trained specialists in foreign affairs. Ma Wensheng (1426–1510), the minister of war in the late fifteenth century, wrote detailed texts about China’s relations with the peoples along its northwestern and northeastern borders. Xu Jin (1437–1510), another long-term official in the northwest, produced a sophisticated narrative and analysis of political and social conditions in central Asia. The
Huayi yiyu
(
Sino–Barbarian Dictionary
), which contained Sino–foreign glossaries or rudimentary dictionaries of Mongol, Jurchen, Sanskrit, and other languages, revealed a similar interest in foreigners and a growing scholarly expertise. The Siyiguan (College of Translators) and the Huitongguan (College of Interpreters), two government agencies that trained translators and interpreters, provided the court with ­personnel proficient in Burmese, Jurchen, Mongol, Persian, Thai, Tibetan, Uyghur, and other languages. To be sure, the level of expertise was often mediocre, a product partly of the court’s own policies. It allocated scant resources to the two agencies and accorded the interpreters and translators relatively low status and pay, limiting their ability to recruit the most capable and motivated young men. Nonetheless, as interpreters and translators, these men dealt with and learned about foreigners, thus increasing China’s knowledge.

Geographic knowledge of China itself also attracted attention. Remarkable explorers were, in large part, responsible for advances in such knowledge. They compiled diaries of their expeditions, which incorporated information on the topography and the spectacular sites they saw. One such explorer undertook a dramatic and dangerous trip in the remote areas of southwest China. Enduring bitterly cold weather, bandit raids, and loss of supplies, he persisted and d­iscovered the source of the Yangzi River and traversed the Mekong and Salween rivers.

The Ming also witnessed innovations in and greater knowledge of technology. The
Wubeizhi
(
Treatise on Armaments Technology
), compiled by Mao Yuanyi (1594–ca. 1641) in 1628, offered descriptions of armor and weaponry and ­disquisitions on strategy. More military texts were written during the Ming than in the entire history of China until that time. The
Tiangong kaiwu
(
Exploitation of the Works of Nature
), edited by Song Yingxing (1587–1666), was a valuable compendium on Chinese methods of production. Song wrote about agronomy (including the growing of grain); clothing materials; dyes; salt; sugar; ceramics; the casting of pots; statues and mirrors; vegetable oils; paper; the forging of weapons; the mining and use of silver, copper, tin, zinc, and lead; vermilion; and ink. Illustrations peppered the work, facilitating efforts to ­identify the tools and techniques of production. Even more comprehensive was the remarkable
Bencao gangmu
(
Compendium of Materia Medica
) of Li Shizhen (1518–1593), the descendant of a long line of physicians and dispensers of drugs. A description of beliefs about medicinal use of plants, animals, and inanimate substances, this monumental text preserved many of China’s contributions to materia medica. It surveyed approximately 1900 species and offered more than 8100 prescriptions for both ailments and chronic diseases. A sampling of these recipes yields the use of the fresh river snails for conjunctivitis, jaundice, and difficulties in urination; of dried and powdered cattle louse to ward off smallpox; and of ground-up “dragons’ teeth” for arthritis and for diseases of the liver. Also included in the work were descriptions and ­treatment for syphilis and smallpox and an analysis of the curative properties of wild rhubarb, which grew primarily in Gansu. According to Li, the root of the plant, which the Chinese referred to as “Great Yellow,” served to cure ­gastrointestinal disturbances and congestion of the pelvic organs as well as to cope with malarial fevers, among numerous other applications. Europeans, who started to trade for Chinese rhubarb in the late sixteenth century, made even greater claims for it. An English herbal published in 1597 prescribed ­rhubarb for diseases of the liver, kidney, and spleen, for swellings of the heart, spitting of blood, shortness of breath, ringworm, inflammation of the lungs, madness, and frenzy. M. Pomet, chief druggist to King Louis XIV of France, added that it could be used to eliminate worms in children. Europeans valued it so highly that an extensive commerce in rhubarb developed between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries. It is unclear whether the other recipes were as effective.

After the disastrous capture of the emperor in 1449, the court recovered and managed several decades of peaceful rule despite repeated purges and ­executions of officials and the growing power of eunuchs. Aside from a few minor insurrections, the dynasty encountered few crises for the remainder of the fifteenth century. However, disquieting trends appeared beneath the surface. Eunuchs were becoming increasingly prominent in all facets of government, reaching even to the judiciary and beginning to supersede the authority of judges. The skills of the Ming military were dissipating, and the court provided scant ­funding for its troops, in accordance with the dynasty’s professed opposition to expansionism and the attendant lack of prestige for the military.

These developments started to translate into serious problems and abuses at the outset of the sixteenth century. Unstable and oppressive eunuchs, ­insufficient revenues (as a result of widespread evasion of taxes by the elite), and elaborate and expensive struggles for power among court bureaucrats led to several revolts, and to brutal punishments being inflicted on officials critical of the eunuchs or the emperors. The court initiated enormous ­construction and public-works projects and insisted on larger and more elaborate palaces, imposing substantial burdens on ordinary people. Yet it scarcely sought to ­register on the tax rolls the lands of those members of the elite who had evaded taxes. Similarly, it could not control and mandate the collection of commercial taxes, placing still additional burdens on the ­population at large.

The early-to-mid-sixteenth-century court did not make sufficient efforts to promote reforms, which would have generated revenues for legitimate undertakings. It thus encountered considerable domestic and foreign turbulence. Internal uprisings as well as piracy and brigandage, which it could not entirely control, undermined stability. Capitalizing on such disturbances, Altan Khan of the Mongols attacked China and reached the gates of Beijing in 1570. His invasion was prompted by a desire for additional trade and for an expansion of the horse markets along the Sino–Mongol borders. When the court rebuffed his demands, he ordered an assault. Like other Mongol rulers after the height of the Mongol Empire, however, he could not forge the unity required to pose a true threat of conquest. Although his forces briefly occupied the area near Beijing, they eventually withdrew, but they coerced the court to create horse fairs where ordinary Mongols could trade for badly needed grains. When the court reneged on its pledges shortly thereafter, Altan Khan’s forces renewed their raids on Chinese territory.

The court sorely needed reforms to achieve stability and to forge peace along its borders. Seeking to prevent additional incursions from the north, the Ming initiated an era of wall building, which resulted in much of the modern so-called Great Wall. This new construction did not necessarily end attacks, but it deterred or curtailed some. At this time, an official named Zhang Juzheng (1525–1582) assumed the challenge of reinvigorating and preserving the Ming. Faced with revenue shortfalls, he first limited expenditures at court and in the army. Confronting a maze of taxes, he mandated tax quotas for local officials, placing the onus on them. To facilitate their efforts, he converted the existing system in which individuals contributed a variety of service-in-kind and ­monetary obligations into one payment of silver bullion, a process that came to be known as the “single-whip system.” He relied on riding roughshod over the bureaucracy to secure his objectives. Unable to initiate a new set of laws or to sack or circumvent government bureaucrats, he was compelled simply to enforce existing regulations and to root out corruption. He could scarcely broach institutional innovations and thus relied on tight control over and intimidation of the bureaucracy to achieve his objectives. While seeking to tame the bureaucracy, Zhang suffered the misfortune of his father’s death, which, under Confucian rituals, required him to retire from government ­service to observe a period of mourning. When Zhang maneuvered to obtain a waiver from the emperor from such an enforced retirement, he alienated orthodox Confucian scholars and officials who criticized him and further barred his efforts to promote changes. Although the initial pressure on local officials resulted in substantial gains for the dynasty, continued opposition from the bureaucrats whom Zhang called upon to implement his policies ­ultimately subverted his reforms. Like other reforms in Chinese history – those sponsored by Wang Mang and Wang Anshi, for example – they faced considerable resistance because they sought to undermine the privileges and power enjoyed by the bureaucracy (the group reformers counted on to foster change). In addition, Zhang and other reformers were often stymied by their aversion to institutional transformation. Recommendations for changes in institutions could be construed as indirect criticism of a dynasty’s founders, which consequently placed reformers in a defensive position. Reformers such as Zhang thus faced serious obstacles.

After the failure of Zhang’s reforms, the dynasty’s problems mounted. Foreign opponents and domestic adversaries capitalized on these difficulties. For example, the court faced rebellions among minority peoples in the ­provinces of Sichuan and Guizhou for almost a decade until 1600. In 1592, it suppressed, not without difficulty, an outbreak of mostly Mongol troops ­stationed in and protecting the province of Ningxia. However, its major ­campaign of the last decade of the sixteenth century was support for Korea against a Japanese invasion. Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who with his predecessor Oda Nobunaga had restored centralized government in Japan after a century or so of disunity and turbulence, initiated two invasions of Korea in order to secure a foothold on the Asian mainland. The Ming court assisted Korea on both occasions – in 1592 and again in 1597 – and dispatched at least seventy-five thousand troops during these campaigns. The combined efforts of Korean and Chinese naval forces led to victory on the sea, isolating the Japanese ­samurai on Korean soil and blocking the arrival of supplies. Yet the Japanese continued to fight until they learned of Hideyoshi’s death in 1598. At that point, to the relief of the exhausted and battered forces on both sides, a peace agreement was negotiated, enabling the samurai to withdraw. The Ming court had realized its objective of resisting Japanese encroachments on the Asian mainland, but its expenditures on these campaigns and on the internal ­rebellions were staggering, adding to its fiscal woes.