2.1 Introduction
To paraphrase Tolstoy’s famous opening in Anna Karenina: All happy nations are alike, every unhappy nation is unhappy in its own way. However, whether a nation is happy or not is neither a predetermined fate nor a result of selectively favorable “heavenly mandate” (天命).Footnote 1 While an individual may suddenly encounter good or bad luck, the fortune or misfortune of a nation has its own reasons. When examining world history, it is not difficult to find that only nations in which a substantial majority of people consciously accept the social contract are peaceful and prosperous. In such nations, the people not only live in harmony with each other, but are also capable of organizing collective actions to effectively constrain the abuse of state power. Conversely, if the vast majority of people are indifferent to or consciously reject the key elements of the social contract, peace and prosperity will remain for them an illusory dream.
As the first Chinese revolutionary leader advocated, “the trend of the world is mighty and unstoppable. Going with the flow will bring prosperity, while resisting it will lead to destruction.”Footnote 2 Nations today are abandoning despotic regimes one after another because they obstruct the free formation of their social contract. Without the social contract as the ultimate basis of political legitimacy, the state constitution will either make hollow promises or degenerate into straight bad law.Footnote 3 Such a system may maintain temporary peace, but it is destined to be a fragile peace, susceptible to major upheavals. As the inevitable result of centralized absolute despotism without a social contract, China’s cyclical changes of dynasties were always accompanied by immense violence and loss of life.Footnote 4 Unfortunately, millennia of top-down vertical domination seem to have deprived its people of the ability to form horizontal agreements on a national scale. As a result, when opportunities to construct a political contract approached modern China, they were invariably squandered. Indeed, misguided by revolutionary ideologies, China not only failed to rid itself of traditional authoritarian tyranny, but also veered towards totalitarian dictatorship.
In 1911, the year of Xinhai (辛亥), the Wuchang Uprising (武昌起义) brought an abrupt end to the millennia-old imperial system in China and established the first republic in Asia. Unfortunately, revolution itself is the mortal enemy of social contract. The prerequisite for contract-based politics is that parties with conflicting interests and positions are willing to reach agreements through negotiation, leading to peaceful reforms. On the other hand, once revolutionary violence erupts, the opposing parties plunge into a life-and-death rivalry, making it impossible to form an agreement acceptable to all parties. In this sense, although the Xinhai Revolution is often eulogized as “China’s Glorious Revolution,” it differed fundamentally from the Glorious Revolution. From the Chinese perspective, indeed, the British Glorious Revolution of 1688–89 cannot be considered a typical “revolution” (革命), not only because it was essentially bloodless, but more importantly, the abdication of James II merely changed the monarch without altering the British monarchy.Footnote 5
In contrast, although the Xinhai Revolution resulted in relatively little bloodshed, it was a genuine revolution because it not only ousted an emperor, but also abolished the monarchy. Revolutionary leader Sun Yat-sen was determined to “carry the revolution through to the end” until his Nationalist Party (国民党) succeeded in monopolizing state power. To be sure, compared with the Civil War between the Nationalists and the Communists in 1946–49, the almost bloodless Xinhai Revolution implied possibilities for contract-based politics after the Republic was established. Unfortunately, since both the idea and practice of social contract had been entirely foreign to traditional China, social reform had always depended on the top-down approach. If the supreme ruler refused to change, the only option was to remove the vested interest through revolutionary violence, which inevitably resulted in the winner-takes-all scenario and one-party rule. As a result, not only did the reforms towards the end of the Qing dynasty fail, but the cooperation between the new and old forces quickly disintegrated after the Xinhai Revolution. By 1919, the Chinese public and intellectuals had already grown disillusioned with republican politics, which was repeatedly hijacked by various warlords. Coupled with the decline of democracy in postwar Europe and the rise of the Soviet Union, China’s mainstream ideology rapidly shifted towards totalitarianism and decisively departed from contract-based politics.
There have been many accounts of the Chinese reforms, revolutions, and the causes of their failure. Here is mine, a reformist perspective that relates to my theory of social contract and its critical role in constitutional reforms. This chapter begins by briefly summarizing the basic structure and formation of social contract, while highlighting its absence in traditional China and the resulting consequences. A comparison is drawn between Chinese and British political traditions to underscore the disparity. It then delves into the examination of the contract-based politics during the late Qing dynasty and early Republic, analyzing the reasons behind its failure. Finally, this chapter illustrates the systematic suppression of press freedom and the decisive shift in mainstream opinion before and after the May Fourth Movement, supported by the statistical data on the number of newspaper articles during that period featuring keywords such as “social contract” (民约), “reform,” and “revolution” (革命). A free press is crucial for fostering a minimally sophisticated public opinion, which in turn is a necessary prerequisite for forming an informed, rational society capable of supporting gradual reforms and resisting irrational revolutionary ideologies. The complete ignorance and disregard for contract-based politics among China’s ruling circle and society at large led to a rapid descent into an entangled trap of totalitarian politics in the post–May Fourth China.
2.2 The Structure and Formation of Social Contract
Before elaborating on the trial and failure of China’s contract-based politics in the republican era, a brief conceptual explanation of social contract and its building mechanism is in order. Although social contract is an old topic, it is commonly misunderstood, making it necessary to clarify the concept before it can be taken seriously in political practice.
2.2.1 The Basic Structure of Social Contract
Since Hobbes published his Leviathan in 1651, various versions of social contract theory have presented the social contract as a normative fiction that provides justification for the establishment of the state. The social contract is depicted as either an agreement among the people to establish a sovereign (Hobbes), or a delegation of authority from the people to the sovereign based on trust (Locke), or a combination of both (Rousseau).Footnote 6 As a social contract agreed upon by all individuals has never actually existed, the classical theories treat it as a hypothetical thought experiment used to assess the legitimacy of the state. Given the theoretical fallacies and practical injuries resulting from those “thought experiments” based on wrong methodologies,Footnote 7 however, a genuine social contract theory must strictly adhere to methodological individualism and empiricism. The social contract is not merely a fictional construct; rather, it is a genuine agreement reached among real, concrete, and living individuals in the actual world. Ideally, it is a foundational agreement that all rational individuals, concerned with their long-term interests, would reach. In practice, however, not everyone is rational enough to actually reach such an agreement.
To be sure, it is impossible to achieve an ideal scenario where all members of society unanimously agree upon the social contract, regardless of how basic and indispensable it may be. In fact, this is precisely the challenge faced by every real society, where only a portion of the population can reach a basic agreement required for constructing a legitimate state. Such an agreement can either be explicitly expressed as laws or implicitly understood as unwritten norms. The crucial factor that determines the fate of a nation is the size and strength of the group of citizens constituting the “contract community.” A “happy” or “lucky” nation is one where the contract community comprises a significant majority of society, capable of transforming the basic elements of the social contract into constitutional practices, from which the remaining individuals can simply benefit as free riders. Conversely, if the contract community consists of only a few citizens, while the vast majority remain indifferent to or repulsed by the elements of the social contract, then that nation is destined for misfortune. Therefore, the practical impossibility of reaching unanimous consent on the empirical social contract does not imply its nonexistence or insignificance. On the contrary, the degree to which it exists in a society is pivotal to the destiny of that society.
In essence, the social contract represents an agreement to abide by a set of political natural laws (PNLs) that are essential for achieving and sustaining social peace and harmony. Analysis of nearly 400 civil wars worldwide since 1800 reveals that civil wars arise when at least one PNL is violated.Footnote 8 Drawing lessons from such historical events, rational individuals of various classes, identities, and interests should come to a basic agreement to uphold all PNLs. The resulting social contract empowers the contract community to formulate a constitution that embodies and elaborates on the PNLs, serving as the foundation for state power.
In summary, the social contract comprises three institutional components: (1) fundamental rights and freedoms, especially freedom of thought and belief, freedom of speech and press, and equal protection against discrimination; (2) a form of majoritarian decision-making mechanism based on universal suffrage; and (3) an administrative and judicial system that operates independently and free from political interference.Footnote 9 In other words, at the core of the social contract lies the “bounded majoritarianism,” which entails democratic majoritarianism while respecting basic freedoms and the rule of law. Even a decision that is supported by a near 100 percent majority should not infringe upon individual basic rights and freedoms, nor the principles of administrative neutrality and judicial independence.
The social contract begins by acknowledging three fundamental rights and freedoms: freedom of religion and belief, freedom of speech, and equal protection against discrimination. To be sure, these rights are not necessarily the only ones to be included in the social contract. Obviously, other rights such as personal freedom, privacy, and private property are also important, and should be specified in the constitution. Therefore, the list of “contract rights” remains open. For the purpose of maintaining national peace, however, the significance of the aforementioned three rights is unparalleled. No nation can violate any of them without facing the consequences of oppression, internal conflicts, and even civil wars.
The Constitution of the United States has widely been considered as a successful model of contract-based politics, even though democracy at the time was limited to a minority of white, propertied males. Regrettably, less than eighty years after its founding, the issue of slavery divided the North and South, plunging the nation into a brutal civil war that nearly caused its disintegration, with a death toll of more than half a million. Even today, the United States remains deeply divided by racial discrimination and the resulting animosity.
Moreover, the theocratic states that intertwine religion with the state face grave consequences such as serious religious oppression, armed conflict, and turmoil. Last but not least, if freedom of speech is not respected and protected, the absence of free exchange of political information and ideas not only renders electoral democracy impossible, but also prevents the people from forming a social contract in the first place. This chapter will describe how the suppression of a free press hindered the Republic of China from embracing the conception of social contract during its early years of establishment.
The three contract rights, along with electoral democracy and the rule of law, form the core of PNLs, the “iron laws” that establish the necessary conditions for a nation to achieve social peace and maintain legitimate and stable political power. Only by upholding every PNL can a nation maintain a balanced distribution of social power and prevent private interests from growing disproportionally with the support of the state. Mature liberal democracies can sustain long-term peace and harmony precisely because the vast majority of their citizens agree to abide by the PNLs upon which the social contract is based.
In contrast, authoritarian and totalitarian states suffer from periodic crises of serious social and political unrest due to the absence of electoral democracy, making it impossible to address abuses and achieve the peaceful transition of political power. Additionally, democracy cannot be sustained without the rule of law. If daily governance is marred by extralegal interference driven by power, money, or personal connections, even an electoral democracy will fail to save the country from falling into lawless chaos. In short, if the majority of a society fails to reach a social contract on the delineated PNLs and take action against the contract violations, or disregards the PNLs for short-term gains, their pursuit of peace and happiness is destined to be futile, akin to seeking fish in a tree (缘木求鱼).
2.2.2 The Institutional Conditions of Social Contract
Liberal democracy and authoritarian regimes thus represent two contrasting situations. In a liberal democracy, the PNLs are widely respected and effectively upheld. Due to the robust protection of the basic rights and the shared understanding among the majority regarding the limits of state power, the cost of violating these rights by either the state or individuals is high, while the cost for individuals to defend their rights is relatively low. If the general public demands that the power games among the political elites adhere to certain basic rules, any political behavior that violates those basic rules will face social punishment, whether through public condemnation, periodic elections, or recall mechanisms. As a result, the constitutional rules are effectively enforced. People living in a liberal democracy may not necessarily be aware of concepts such as “political natural law” or “social contract” in the same way that a healthy person may not be preoccupied with the meaning of “health” in medicine, yet fulfilling the social contract has become an integral part of their daily lives.
During the Watergate scandal in the early 1970s, for example, President Nixon’s subordinates engaged in illegal wiretapping of political rivals within the National Convention of the Democratic Party. When President Nixon refused to release the tapes that potentially contained criminal activity to the court, the American people responded with widespread demonstrations, protesting the president’s defiance of the court order. Telegrams poured into Congress like snowflakes every day, urging the immediate impeachment of the president. Since members of Congress are directly elected by voters, consideration of personal political interest was enough to prevent them from aligning with a disgraced president, even if they belonged to the same party. Three PNLs – freedom of speech and assembly, electoral democracy, and judicial independence – worked together to swiftly remove a president suspected of serious legal violations. While the House of Representatives quickly initiated impeachment, the Supreme Court ruled that the president was obligated to hand over the tapes.Footnote 10 The entire episode came to a quick conclusion with Nixon’s resignation.
In contrast, none of the conditions necessary for reaching a social contract is fulfilled in authoritarian regimes. The people do not feel that their rights are respected and protected, nor do they share broad consensus on the limits of state power. Activists who consciously defend their rights constantly face the danger of repression and persecution. Nor are political elites held accountable for violating the people’s rights, leading to frequent disregard of the basic rules of the political game. An authoritarian order cannot coexist with a social contract because the people would never have agreed to such a system had they been given free choice. The establishment of a social contract requires that the people have the right to determine the political institutions through which they are governed by engaging in free discussions and debates. If the people are not even given the right to elect their own representatives, how can they be expected to have a say in the mechanisms by which the representatives are chosen?
Of course, such an oppressive order cannot be sustained indefinitely. If the authoritarian mode operates in a closed circle, shielded from external challenges and comparison with alternative modes of governance, it may cycle forever, as seen in the Chinese dynasties over the past two millennia. Once alternative forms of governance are presented to the old regime, however, the cycle can be broken when comparisons are made and judgments are passed. Nations that refuse to endure voluntary degradation will yearn for a transition from the authoritarian tyranny that deprives the majority of their freedom to a liberal democracy that respects the dignity and right of every individual.
The transition from the authoritarian order to a liberal democratic order is, in essence, a process of establishing a social contract based on the general observance of PNLs. Authoritarian order tends to be “resilient,” however.Footnote 11 Since a nation that has long been under authoritarianism lacks the political and cultural foundations supporting the establishment of a social contract, its transition process is bound to encounter twists and turns. While adopting a liberal democratic constitution may be an easy task, the actual establishment of a liberal democratic order through practical implementation is considerably harder. Many countries, including both the Republic and People’s Republic of China, had stumbled in the transition process. The ultimate failure of these transitions is, of course, the failure to establish a social contract. In societies undergoing transition, the general population is typically lacking in power and knowledge, making it practically impossible to rely on them alone to establish a social contract. In most cases, the initiation of transitions rests with political and social elites.Footnote 12 A successful transition implies that these elites, with varying interests and positions, have reached a sustainable power-sharing agreement. Conversely, a transition fails when the elite agreement is either broken or was never reached in the first place.
On the other hand, the elite agreement represents only a temporary stage characterized by a fragile balance between competing powers. If the general public fails to transform themselves and accept the social contract based on the PNLs, the elite pact is destined to be short-lived. In fact, the elite behaviors cannot be effectively constrained precisely because the majority of the population has not embraced a social contract that enables collective actions aimed at enforcing the elite pact. Within the power dynamics, political elites with opposing interests and positions compete for power. While some elites willingly follow the established rules of the game, others will pursue their objectives through any means necessary, even if it means flagrant disregarding the rules of the game, such as engaging in persecution and assassination, or staging a coup d’état. If such behaviors go unchecked without consequences, they will inevitably proliferate and ultimately destroy the very rules that are meant to govern elite behavior.
Regrettably, the people living under authoritarian regimes are deprived of the freedom necessary to develop the habit of engaging in voluntary agreements through free exchanges. When the authoritarian regime loosens its grip, there is a window of opportunity for the people to establish a social contract through practices and negotiations, but the opportunity is often missed due to lack of experience and time. Moreover, they are susceptible to the allure of the residual authoritarian power, which tends to undermine their efforts by employing a “divide and conquer” strategy, fragmenting their horizontal coalitions before a solid social contract can be formed. The defining character of an authoritarian order is the vertical relationship between the state and the people, which remains strong even as the old order begins to crumble. Not only do the common people, still living under the remnants of authoritarian legacies, find it difficult to form a self-governing coalition, but even the elites struggle to reach compromises among themselves due to a lack of sufficient trust. As a result, instead of reaching a mutual compromise and producing a pact by which all parties are willing to uphold, the elite groups often engage in endless infighting among themselves, until a winner emerges victorious and takes all power.
2.2.3 The Absence of Contract-Based Political Tradition in China
Unfortunately, China is one of those countries with long authoritarian tradition. Over the course of two millennia under the centralized imperial governance, the vertical political structure overshadowed any horizontal cooperation. Ancient China was characterized by a despotic order where the ruling elites governed an uneducated populace. While ancient China did possess a degree of local autonomy for the gentry, and individuals of common birth had opportunities to enter the ruling circle through the imperial examination system, the social mobility and local autonomy remained severely limited, unable to alter the nature of China’s political system. The vast majority of ordinary people had minimal opportunities to participate in self-governance. The imperial examination provided negligible chance to change one’s destiny, considering the low literacy rate during the late Qing dynasty, which was below 1 percent.Footnote 13 The educated gentry elites numbered little more than 1 million, accounting for less than 0.3 percent of the total population of 400 million. In other words, over 99 percent of the population were excluded from political participation. While the small gentry class did experience a degree of political engagement, the overwhelming majority of the masses were mere “bystanders” to the power struggles within the imperial court.
As the common people were unable to exert a positive influence on the elite power struggles and compromises, the elites had no incentive to seek support from the people themselves, but rather focused on gaining favor from those “above” – ultimately from the emperor. The lack of popular participation also exacerbated polarization among the masses at the bottom of society, resulting in two extremes – obedient subjects or violent rebels. The former served as stepping stones for imperial despotism, while the latter became fuel for revolutionary violence. Conspicuously missing was the centerpiece of self-governing citizens, who were capable of forming mutual alliances to defend their rights.
As a result, imperial China had complicated rules of propriety akin to an ancient constitution.Footnote 14 While private contracts were prevalent in practice, the concept of social contract was entirely foreign to its political culture and practices. To be sure, familiarity with private contracts is the prerequisite for envisioning a social contract. It is difficult to imagine a society that lacks the practice of making private contracts, which safeguard their immediate personal interests, while capable of establishing a social contract that pertains to their personal interests indirectly. Engaging in private contracts is only a necessary condition for making the social contract, as the private contracts solely address direct personal interests, with the state acting as a neutral arbiter rather than a political decision-maker. On the other hand, a social contract is an agreement among mutually committed individuals regarding the fundamental principles that the state is obliged to uphold.
For example, freedom of speech in a social contract encompasses not only the mutual respect for each other’s freedom of speech, but also a shared commitment to refrain from invoking the state power to oppress one another’s speech, relying instead on trustworthiness of our horizontal commitments. Only through such means can freedom of speech as stipulated in the constitution be firmly established. Otherwise, regardless of whether you or I align with the state, its suppression of speech can always find social support. Right-wing factions may endorse the suppression of left-wing perspectives, just as left-wing factions may celebrate the suppression of right-wing viewpoints. In either case, the state faces minimal societal sanctions for violating freedom of speech, rendering it an empty provision within the constitution. In this sense, a social contract, as described, has never existed in China.
As a consequence, neither the ordinary people nor the ruling elites in imperial China possessed the spirit of unity against the monarch, akin to the British aristocracy during the Glorious Revolution. Throughout imperial history, significant changes never arose from the joint initiative of high-ranking ministers, but instead always necessitated direct approval from the emperor. The Hundred Days’ Reform, which occurred towards the end of the last dynasty, served as an example. At that time, the political elites were roughly divided into four groups: The two groups within the court were the conservative nobles of the Manchu minority and reformist officials of Han ethnicity and a few Manchu, while two outside the court were royalist reformers, represented by Kang Youwei, and emerging revolutionaries. Had the conservative and reformist factions within the court collaborated, akin to the Tories and Whigs during the Glorious Revolution,Footnote 15 and exerted pressure on the imperial family to embrace change, China could have potentially achieved a constitutional monarchy by the late nineteenth century, which might have endured until the present day.
Unfortunately, China never seemed to have the fortune required for such circumstances. The obstinate Manchu nobles consistently rejected any reforms that threatened their vested interests and firmly held veto power over political reforms, thus becoming an incorrigible impediment to social progress. In such a situation, successful reforms required the leadership of reformist officials within the court, joined by moderate reformers outside the court, effectively marginalizing both the conservative forces within the court and the radical revolutionaries outside the court.Footnote 16 For reformers outside the court, such as Kang Youwei, Liang Qichao (梁启超), and Tan Sitong (谭嗣同), it was more effective to remain outside the court and focus on educating and mobilizing the people. By solving the “coordination dilemma” at the popular level,Footnote 17 they could create social pressure for constitutional reform while leaving institutional and policy reforms to their reformist counterparts within the court.
The intellectual reformers led by Kang Youwei, however, did not content themselves with staying outside the system. They managed to enter the Qing court and assume important positions, which ironically contributed to the downfall of the reform movement. As outsiders to the court, these reformists lacked power resources beyond the personal support of the emperor. Fortunately, they encountered an enlightened emperor, Guangxu, who was committed to reform. Yet their unilateral and hasty actions ultimately led to the demise of the enlightened emperor and the reformist forces. During the Hundred Days’ Reform, over a hundred reform documents were issued in the name of the emperor, which accelerated long-overdue institutional reforms impeded by vested interests. However, it also directly heightened the conflict between the Emperor’s Faction (帝党) and the Empress Dowager’s Faction (后党), representing the conservative forces that safeguarded vested interests.
The radical reforms not only threatened the interests of the conservative court, predominantly composed of the Manchu minority, but also aroused jealousy among enlightened officials of Han ethnicity. The various enlightened factions within the court should have united with the social forces supporting reform to negotiate and resolve their differences. Initially, reformist officials such as Zhang Zhidong and Yuan Shikai did support the intellectual reformers. Unfortunately, they eventually pursued separate paths, failing to form a strong and cohesive coalition capable of countering the conservative forces led by the Empress Dowager. The solitary advancement of the radical reformers only provoked a powerful backlash from the conservative forces. After the suppression of the Hundred Days’ Reform, the reformist forces both within and outside the Qing court were unable to effectively regroup and form a viable counterforce.
Nor were the reforms outside the imperial court able to form a coalition with the relentless revolutionaries, who were increasingly numerous after the reform failed. After Kang Youwei and other key reformers fled to Japan, Sun Yat-sen went to London seeking revolutionary support. Some Japanese sympathizers of the Chinese reform had hoped that the two forces would join hands, but the constitutional monarchists and revolutionary democrats quickly went their separate ways, reaching a point of irreconcilable rivalry. The constitutional monarchists believed that the nature of the polity (政体) was more important than the form of the state (国体), and improving upon the existing system was easier than radically altering it. The revolutionaries, on the other hand, insisted that fundamental transformation was in order, believing that “it is hopeless to reform the Qing government.”Footnote 18 Of course, the critical question was whether the Qing government was willing and able to establish a constitutional monarchy, the affirmative answer to which would have settled the dispute between reform and revolution. While the Qing government was forced to prepare for constitutional reform, it became increasingly corrupt. As the nation grew increasingly outraged by the backlash against reform, revolutionary appeals gained more national sympathy, with radical newspapers spreading throughout the country. As the appeal for reform waned, many reformers even joined the revolutionary forces.
Revolutionary violence, of course, can never produce any kind of contract. As Mao Zedong put it, “Revolution is not a dinner invitation … It is riot, namely, a violent action by which one class overthrows another class.”Footnote 19 It is about life and death. Between you and me, only one survives. How can we possibly reach an agreement? How can any contract be negotiated between mortal enemies who refuse to share the same sky? Amid fire and gunshots, even the lives of all parties are not worthy of respect. What else can be honored and respected? Only in countries with deeply rooted contract-based political traditions like Britain, can rivals return to the negotiating table from the battlefield, which is too much to expect for China. Despite the misleading title of “China’s Glorious Revolution,” the Xinhai Revolution in 1911 marked the beginning of the end of China’s experiments with republican democracy. In less than a decade, the political revolution gave way to a more radical cultural revolution that systematically introduced totalitarian ideals and practices to China.
2.3 The Failure to Establish a Social Contract through Imperial Reform
2.3.1 A Belated Reform Forced by Revolutionary Threat
After the failure of the Hundred Days’ Reform and Emperor Guangxu’s loss of power, the hardliners led by Empress Dowager Cixi (慈禧) emerged from behind the scenes and took center stage in politics, signaling the impending downfall of the crippled constitutional reform. Under domestic and international pressures, the conservative-dominated government was still compelled to continue with reforms, but the movement of “implementing constitutionalism by imitation” (仿行宪政) was initiated half-heartedly. Just half a month before their deaths in 1908, Cixi and Guangxu issued four constitutional edicts in a single day, including the Outline of the Imperial Constitution, rules for establishing a parliament and its election, a list of items to prepare for enacting a formal constitution within nine years, and the Charter of Urban and Rural Self-Governance.
The Outline of the Imperial Constitution was established on the traditional authoritarian model, implying unchallengeable imperial authority that contradicted modern constitutionalism. The year 1911 witnessed the establishment of the “Royal Cabinet” (皇族内阁), which was filled with Manchu nobles, radically altering the policy of ethnic parity between Manchu and Han in previous cabinets. All of these developments indicated that imperial reform had come to an end at the very moment when the Hundred Days’ Reform failed. Without revolution, constitutional progress was impossible. As a result, support for the revolutionary forces had been steadily growing since 1898. A decade later, the death of the Empress Dowager further fueled the revolutionary momentum. The success of the revolution in 1911 simply shattered any hope for a social contract even before it had a chance to take shape.
Within a month of the Wuchang Uprising on October 10, 1911, over half of the southern provinces declared independence. The imperial court was forced to negotiate only after its power was fatally weakened. As the situation quickly became critical, the Qing court had to reappoint Yuan Shikai, a key minster who had been dismissed earlier, and convened an emergency meeting of the Advisory Council (资政院). The majority of the Council proposed the abolition of the Royal Cabinet, the non-interference of royal relatives in politics, some form of popular consent to be acquired for the new constitution, and the immediate lifting of bans on political parties. These proposals were reluctantly accepted by the Qing court under pressure. On October 29, local military officers led by Zhang Shaozeng (张绍曾), Lan Tianwei (蓝天蔚) and Wu Luzhen (吴禄贞) initiated the Luanzhou mutiny as “military remonstrance” (兵谏), which proposed a twelve-point constitutional outline and threatened to march on Beijing, the imperial capital. While the Qing court was initially reluctant to act, Shanxi province declared independence on the same day, suddenly putting Beijing in a situation of facing attacks from both the front and back. As a result, it was forced to issue decrees abolishing the Royal Cabinet, implementing a responsible cabinet, authorizing Yuan Shikai as the Prime Minister to organize the cabinet, lifting the ban on political parties, and granting amnesty to political prisoners criminalized for advocating reform or revolution, including Kang Youwei, Liang Qichao, and Wang Jingwei (汪精卫). On November 3, the Advisory Council drafted, based on the twelve-point outline, the Nineteen Articles on Major Constitutional Principles (宪法重大信条十九条), which was immediately promulgated by the Qing government.Footnote 20
The Nineteen Articles did not specify the rights of the people, but substantially limited the imperial power, implementing the republican ideal with a “figurehead monarch” (虚君) proposed by reformers in the late Qing dynasty. While the monarchy was preserved, such a system would fundamentally reform the tradition of absolute monarchy that had ruled China for millennia. Although the Nineteen Articles still stipulated that “the imperial throne of the Great Qing Empire shall forever be passed down from generation to generation” (Art. 1), and “the sacredness of the emperor shall not be violated” (Art. 2), the imperial powers were substantively limited:
The emperor’s power is limited by the constitution. (Art. 3)
The constitution is to be decided by the Advisory Council and promulgated by the emperor. (Art. 5)
The right to propose constitutional amendments belongs to the Congress. (Art. 6)
The prime minister is elected by the Congress and appointed by the emperor. Other state ministers are recommended by the prime minister and appointed by the emperor. Members of the imperial family shall not serve as prime minister, other state ministers, or provincial governors. (Art. 8)
The system and regulations of officials shall be determined by law. (Art. 13)
The grand ordinances of the imperial family shall not conflict with the constitution. (Art. 16)
While the army and navy are under the command of the emperor, “its internal use shall abide by the specific conditions determined by the Congress, beyond which no dispatch shall be permitted” (Art. 10). “International treaties shall not be concluded without the decision of the Congress”; a declaration of war or peace made during Congressional adjournment shall be confirmed by the Congress after it reassembles (Art. 12). The Congress also decides on the annual budget and the expenses of the imperial family (Arts. 14 and 15).
If the Outline of the Imperial Constitution, imitating the authoritarian Bismarck Constitution of 1871 and the Meiji Constitution of 1889, merely reflected China’s long tradition of absolute monarchy, the Nineteen Articles were close to the British constitutional monarchy after the Glorious Revolution. In fact, as the Wuchang Uprising and Luanzhou mutiny played similar roles to that of the Glorious Revolution, the Nineteen Articles could be seen as China’s Bill of Rights that established its constitutional monarchy following the British model. As Shang Binghe pointed out: “The Nineteen Articles deeply embodied the spirit of the British constitution, using representative institutions as the pivot of national politics. If implemented, popular governance can be achieved. Regrettably, it was released too late.”Footnote 21
After the promulgation of the Nineteen Articles, Prime Minister Yuan Shikai organized a new cabinet that swept away the royalist influence of its predecessor, with the vast majority of its members being Han Chinese. Everything seemed so hopeful, except that it all came too late to stop the footsteps of the revolution. Although the Qing government still held absolute military advantage, it had irreversibly lost all popular support. While Yuan Shikai’s army recaptured Hankou and headed straight for Wuchang, the temporary seat of the revolutionary government, he decided to cease the attack and instead reached a compromise with the revolutionary army through negotiation. In mid-December, with the mediation of the British ambassador, Yuan Shikai sent a representative of the Qing government, Tang Shaoyi (唐绍仪), to Shanghai for the North–South Peace Negotiation with the revolutionaries, represented by Wu Tingfang (伍廷芳). Yuan’s condition was to preserve the Qing court as a symbolic power, while he himself exercised substantive executive power. The southern revolutionary party outright rejected the proposal and insisted on establishing a republic, in which Yuan was promised to be appointed as its founding president if he succeeded in persuading Emperor Puyi to abdicate.
During the North–South Negotiation, Sun Yat-sen returned to China. Representatives from various revolutionary provinces in the south gathered in Wuchang to form the Nanjing Provisional Government of the Republic of China and draft its Organizational Outline (临时政府组织大纲). After much debate, the representatives adopted Sun Yat-sen’s proposal, which followed the American model of presidentialism and separation of powers. This involved establishing a senate and a provisional president, who would serve as both the head of state and the chief executive, as well as the commander-in-chief, to be elected by the provincial representatives.Footnote 22 On the first day of 1912, the Nanjing Provisional Government declared the establishment of the Republic of China, and inaugurated Sun Yat-sen as the provisional president. By the end of January, representatives from most provinces had taken their seats in the Nanjing Senate, thus formally constituting the Provisional Senate, which then began to develop the Provisional Constitution (临时约法).
Preceding the Weimar Constitution by seven years, the Provisional Constitution introduced one of the earliest mixed, dual-head system in the world. Departing from the earlier presidential model, it established a unicameral legislative body with investigatory and impeachment powers, as well as a prime minister, who was expected to cosign the presidential edicts. The aim was to incorporate the advantages of both presidential and parliamentary systems by keeping the two powers in balance. On the other hand, the Provisional Constitution was evidently incomplete, with numerous loopholes that left the powers of the parliament and cabinet largely undefined. For example, it failed to address the parliamentary vote of no confidence and dissolution. The prime minister essentially served as an assistant to the president, whose power was checked solely through the prime minister’s authority to cosigning laws and orders. Unfortunately, the provisions regarding co-signature were ambiguous due to hasty drafting, which ultimately enabled Yuan Shikai to evade parliamentary control.Footnote 23
On February 12, 1912, the imperial court issued the Qing Emperor’s Abdication Edict (清帝退位诏书), abdicating the throne in exchange for the security and decent treatment of the imperial family. The Edict granted:
Yuan Shikai the full power to organize a provisional republican government and negotiate with the revolutionary military. The objective is to secure the peace and stability of the people, unify the five ethnicities of Manchu, Han, Mongol, Uighur and Tibetan, and safeguard the territory and establish a great Republic of China.Footnote 24
The following day, Yuan Shikai announced the establishment of a unified republic through a public notice for organizing the provisional republican government. On February 14, Sun Yat-sen declared his intention to resign from the position of provisional president, laying out three conditions: The capital should be located in Nanjing, where Yuan Shikai’s oath of office would be taken, and the observance of the Provisional Constitution being drafted by the Nanjing Provisional Senate. The next day, Yuan was unanimously elected as the provisional president by the Senate. After several rounds of political struggles and compromises, however, the capital was ultimately located in Beijing, where Yuan took the oath of office. On March 10, Yuan Shikai formally assumed the office, while Sun Yat-sen, who had not officially resigned as the Provisional President, promulgated the Provisional Constitution adopted by the Provisional Senate. On March 16, Yuan formed a cabinet, which received approval from the Provisional Senate.
In a short span of two months, the millennia-old imperial government in China came to an end with a relatively bloodless transfer of power to the republican government. However, the manner and speed of the power transfer raised concerns about the fate of the republic.
2.3.2 Was the Xinhai Revolution “China’s Glorious Revolution”?
Scholars such as Guo Shaomin and Gao Quanxi argue that the abdication of the “Last Emperor” was tantamount to a Chinese version of the Glorious Revolution, and the Abdication Edict amounted to a “contractual transfer” of power from the old monarchy to a democratic republic. To be sure, the Abdication Edict did provide China with another chance to embrace constitutionalism without violence. The peaceful abdication of the Last Emperor, the agreement reached between Yuan Shikai and the revolutionary party to establish a republic, the smooth unification of the northern and southern regions, and the graceful handover of power by Sun Yat-sen to Yuan Shikai – all these were impressive achievements that demonstrated the spirit of politics based on contract.
However, such categorization tends to exaggerate the perception, foresight, and capabilities of the child emperor on the one hand, and the integrity of Yuan Shikai and the revolutionary party on the other. By 1912, the Qing court had lost many prominent figures, leaving behind only Puyi (溥仪), a six-year-old emperor, and his aunt Empress Dowager Longyu (隆裕). They were easily manipulated by Yuan Shikai, who was granted full authority to negotiate with the revolutionary army. Yuan opted to trade the throne of his master in return for his own presidency in the republic. In comparison, the Nineteen Articles issued after the Luanzhou mutiny were much closer to the Glorious Revolution, as they aimed to establish a constitutional monarchy similar to that of Britain. Unfortunately, Sun Yat-sen staunchly rejected this compromise on behalf of the revolutionary party, making constitutional monarchy unattainable in China. The failure of constitutional monarchy foreshadowed subsequent failures in compromises between the revolutionary party and the remnants of the old regime led by Yuan Shikai, which were carried over to the new republic.
While the Last Emperor, Yuan Shikai and the revolutionary party seemed to have effectively resolved the “coordination problem” that often plagues political transitions,Footnote 25 the limitations of such elite compromises became evident. First, the revolutionary party maintained an unwavering stance against monarchism in favor of republicanism, abruptly ending any possibility of constitutional monarchy and setting a negative precedent for elite compromises in the early republican period. To be sure, the downfall of the Qing government was well deserved, as it was a just retribution for their stubborn refusal to implement constitutional reforms. Since the failure of the Hundred Days’ Reform, the Qing government had adopted a stern outlook to mask its lack of confidence. By intensifying suppression of widespread discontent, it closed off the path to peaceful reform, which could have extended its reign. After the revolution broke out and the imperial army unleashed brutal violence, even moderate reformers like Zhang Jian (张謇) abandoned the idea of constitutional monarchy. Zhang not only declined to serve as a minister of commerce in Yuan’s cabinet, but openly supported the republic. At this point, with the loss of popular support, the downfall of the Qing court became inevitable.
Unlike a revolution, however, constitutional reform relies more on reason than on impulse. For a legitimate revolution to occur, the necessary condition is the ruling group’s repeated rejection to reform. Once the Qing court, for whatever reason, was willing to relinquish its previously unlimited power and accept constitutional limitations, the revolutionary legitimacy would have significantly diminished. In fact, the revolution had already achieved considerable success by pressuring the Qing court to release the Nineteen Articles. As Liang Qichao pointed out, both the revolutionary and monarchist movements were mere means to an end, with constitutionalism being the ultimate goal.Footnote 26 Constitutionalism could have been attained through reforming the monarchy, and the rational strategy would not have been to overthrow the monarchy, but rather to transform its political system while maintaining the monarchical structure. This approach was advocated by reformers both within and outside the court, such as Yuan Shikai and Kang Youwei. If the Chinese revolutionaries had displayed the self-discipline of the British nobility during the Glorious Revolution in 1688–89, they would have been content with a constitutional monarchy when victory was within their grasp. They could have reached a compromise with the reformers to implement parliamentary politics. The social contract embodied in the Nineteen Articles would have taken root in China, and the path to constitutionalism would have been much smoother compared to the revolutionary course it ultimately took.
In fact, had the monarchy persisted, Emperor Puyi could have cultivated favorable sentiments from the still significant royalist faction for the revolutionary party and helped to maximize consensus for the constitutional transformation. He might have even served as a mediator in the political struggle between the revolutionary party and Yuan Shikai, preventing both sides from engaging in unrestrained clashes. Once the Nineteen Articles were rendered defunct by the imperial “abdication,” the social contract lost its political foundation, and the constitutional transformation became deadlocked. Unfortunately, the revolutionary party lacked a spirit of compromise, causing China to miss the opportunity to establish a social contract. The constitutional reform began with an arrogant and obstinate imperial court that clung to political power and resisted reforms, and ended with an equally stubborn revolutionary party that refused to compromise and insisted on one-party rule, leading to clashes with the authoritarian warlord, Yuan Shikai, who ultimately self-destructed by restoring the monarchy. Although the late Qing dynasty’s transformation began with the opportunity created by the Nineteen Articles and a bloodless abdication, it was soon lost in relentless power struggles among uncompromising factions. This outcome was hardly surprising, as Chinese society generally revered power and had an inherent aversion to negotiations. While compromises were viewed as weakness, naked rules of the jungle such as “the winner takes all” and “one mountain cannot accommodate two tigers” (一山不容二虎) were accepted as natural laws. Without the support of power, specifically military strength, political authority would cease to exist, and the regime would inevitably collapse. Under the dominance of a power-worshipping culture, an experiment to establish social contract is almost destined to fail.
Second, the political compromises during that time primarily revolved around the specific allocation of power between rival parties and individuals. Unfortunately, these negotiations often resulted in a zero-sum game, making it difficult to reach mutually beneficial agreements. Sun Yat-sen yielded the provisional presidency to Yuan Shikai on the condition that the capital be relocated to Nanjing, where Yuan would take the oath of office. Apart from the general adherence to the Provisional Constitution, most of the compromises between rival parties focused on specific power allocations. Even the Provisional Constitution itself was a product of power struggles. While Sun Yat-sen strongly believed in the American presidential system, which served as the basis for the Organizational Outline of the Provisional Government promulgated by the Nanjing Provisional Senate, the Provisional Constitution underwent abrupt changes in its fundamental design once it became evident that Yuan Shikai would assume the presidency. The Provisional Constitution was hastily drafted within a month in order to restrict Yuan’s power through a parliament and cabinet controlled by the revolutionary party. It was promulgated the day after Yuan took office. In an attempt to render Yuan a president without real authority, the Provisional Constitution transformed the presidential system into a mixed system with dual heads. If the Organizational Outline was personally tailored to suit Sun Yat-sen, the Provisional Constitution was specifically aimed at limiting Yuan’s power. Both documents can be considered “personal laws” (对人立法) enacted by the revolutionaries-dominated Nanjing Provisional Senate.Footnote 27
To be sure, it can be beneficial for institutional changes to arise from power struggles, something that had been notably lacking in China’s long political history. It is well known that major American constitutional innovations, such as bicameralism, were established through political compromises (e.g., the Great Compromise) during the framing period in the 1780s.Footnote 28 To produce a sustainable constitutional system, however, the compromises reached must be genuine. Although Yuan Shikai pledged to abide by the Provisional Constitution that was directed against him, it was clear that he was unwilling to be sidelined by a prime minister who was appointed by and loyal to the revolutionaries. This also explains his deep concern regarding the candidacy of Song Jiaoren (宋教仁), the de facto leader of the Nationalist Party founded through the coalition of revolutionaries in August 1912, who declared his intention to run for prime minister. When Song was assassinated in March 1913, suspicions arose that Yuan was the mastermind behind the plot, prompting Sun Yat-sen to launch a “second revolution” against Yuan. In response, Yuan ordered the complete banning of the Nationalist Party. While one can blame Yuan for being power-hungry and inconsistent, from his perspective the revolutionaries had broken the agreement first. As Yuan had long desired the presidency, the unhindered presidential system outlined in the Organizational Outline represented his “legitimate expectation.” Without seeking his consent, however, the revolutionaries unilaterally changed it to the dual-head system by hastily enacting the Provisional Constitution, which significantly weakened presidential power. Therefore, the Provisional Constitution was essentially the result of one party’s imposition, rather than an agreement between both parties. Without mutual trust and respect, opportunistic compromises are bound to fail. Given the political tension and deadlock between the Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Northern government (北洋政府) dominated by warlords, the dual-head system seemed to be the only option acceptable to both parties. However, it was not a viable solution. Attempting to sideline a rival president through a prime minister accountable to the Nationalist-dominated Congress would only intensify political frictions, soon leading to the total collapse of multiparty cooperation.
In retrospect, a viable option at the time may have been a presidential system with a separation of powers similar to the American model. While the Northern government would be responsible for administration, the KMT would control the parliament. However, even with this arrangement, ensuring a peaceful separation of powers would still have been challenging, as political conflicts between the president and Congress would have been inevitable. Even in the American model, the legislative, executive, and judicial branches are far from independent entities operating in isolation, but involve intricate checks and balances between each other. For instance, Congress has significant influence over the president, as the Senate’s confirmation is required for cabinet appointments. If the Senate, under Nationalist control, repeatedly declined to approve Yuan Shikai’s cabinet nominees, the president would face a desperate situation.
More important, the acceptance and sustainability of a constitutional design resulting from political compromises relies on a rough balance of political capacities among the parties involved, creating uncertainty about the future outcomes of political struggles. In a way, the parties engaged in the institutional agreement are placed in a “veil of ignorance” regarding the political consequences of the power dynamics within the institutions. For instance, the American constitutional system enjoys bipartisan support because both the Democrats and Republicans have a fair chance of winning presidential and congressional elections. However, this support would likely diminish if one party consistently dominated all branches of government. In contrast, during the early days of the Republic of China, the KMT had a clear advantage in political mobilization compared to the warlord factions in the Northern government and third parties like the Progressive Party, which primarily emerged from late Qing reformers. As the Northern government lacked effective mechanisms for political mobilization to win elections, the Nationalist Party held an absolute majority in the Congress. Given the circumstances, the warlords had little choice but to rely on force to seize and maintain power, leaving the Nationalist Party with no alternative but to use force to regain control. This power struggle and the absence of a balance in political capacities ultimately hindered the peaceful resolution and stability of the constitutional system.
This illustrates the impossibility of a complete transition from monarchy to a genuine republic before the social contract has a chance to take root. Regrettably, China has never had such an opportunity. While the Qing dynasty relied on power, ultimately the military power, its successor, the Northern government led by Yuan Shikai, still had to rely on force. Nor did the revolutionary party, which emerged from the same political soil, hesitate to use force to seize power. Power sharing found no room between the successors and destroyers of monarchy, as they confronted each other on the ruthless battlefield, aiming to determine the ultimate winner and turning everyone into a believer of the creed that “political power grows out of the gun barrel.”Footnote 29 After several rounds of unlimited conflicts, all political issues were resolved through the use of force, leaving no chance for the social contract to take root.
2.3.3 Returning to Military Politics
Before his assassination, Song Jiaoren, the major proponent of parliamentary politics within the KMT, led the party to a resounding victory in the parliamentary election. Strongly critical of Yuan’s policies, Song pledged to lead the formulation of a British-style constitution and establish a one-party cabinet, where the president would serve as a mere figurehead. He also proposed Li Yuanhong, the vice president, to replace Yuan Shikai as the president, directly challenging Yuan’s presidency. Song’s assassination on the fateful night of March 20, 1913, however, completely shattered the already vulnerable cooperation between the KMT and Yuan Shikai. In July, after failed attempts at judicial trial and political settlement, seven southern provinces announced their secession from the Northern government and initiated the “second revolution” with the aim of overthrowing Yuan. However, Yuan Shikai swiftly suppressed the uprising, forcing Sun Yat-sen and other organizers to seek refuge in Japan. He arrested and executed some Nationalist participants, and eventually dissolved the Congress while repealing the qualifications of Nationalist members. Without the institutional constraints of the KMT, Yuan acted with increasing arrogance and greed, steadily consolidating his power until he embarked on the ill-fated path of restoring the monarchy in 1916. This reckless action not only led to his own downfall, but also dealt a significant blow to the young republic.
From the tumultuous early years of the republic to the brief period of monarchy restoration, the failures of the early republic severely undermined the credibility of republicanism. While China experienced a superficial peace during Yuan’s era, it descended into a decade of warlord chaos after his demise. Although Chinese academics have recently begun reevaluating warlord politics, the fundamental nature of military rule remained unchanged. As the great warlord Yuan Shikai was replaced by smaller ones like Duan Qirui, Feng Guozhang, Cao Kun, Wu Peifu, and Zhang Xun, all of whom were Yuan’s former subordinates, military involvement in politics became commonplace. With the absence of a common master, these petty warlords eagerly sought to unify a nation divided by military power, each vying for a seat in the presidential chair. The numerous abuses of power during this period do not require further elaboration.Footnote 30 An authority rooted in the military is inevitably at odds with elected institutions. When Yuan Shikai held the presidency, conflicts arose between the presidency, the Congress, and the cabinet. Now that the warlords controlled the Cabinet, political conflicts shifted to the struggle between the Cabinet and the Congress. In both cases, the only means of resolving conflicts was resorting to violence through blatant disregard for basic rules.
In April 1917, the government led by Prime Minister Duan Qirui (段祺瑞) summoned the provincial military governors (督军) to Beijing for discussions on military affairs and the declaration of war on Germany. While the military governors unanimously advocated declaring war on Germany and submitted the proposal to the House of Representatives, the KMT, constituting the majority in Congress, opposed the declaration, believing that Duan’s true intention was to appease Japan, from which he had accepted a secret loan. Fearful of failing to achieve his objective, Duan followed in the footsteps of Yuan Shikai and organized a “citizens’ petitioning team” consisting of several thousand individuals. They were commanded by the Ministry of the Army to surround the Congress and physically assault its members, coercing them to pass the resolution on that very day before being allowed to leave. The House of Representatives was outraged and shelved the resolution. Subsequently, the military governors jointly criticized the constitution, claiming that provisions such as the vote of no confidence and the Senate’s approval of congressional dissolution were inappropriate for China’s situation, and petitioned the President to dissolve the Congress. Taking the side of Congress, President Li Yuanhong issued an order dismissing Duan as prime minister, which was cosigned by the foreign minister.
Under attack from the military governors, Duan was forced to reject the validity of the dismissal order, arguing that the presidential dismissal, according to the Provisional Constitution, could only take effect with the co-signature of the prime minister himself, who was the very target of dismissal. All the military governors chimed in and announced their secession from the national government. To protect himself, Li urgently summoned Zhang Xun (张勋), a loyalist to the Qing dynasty known as “the general with a pigtail” (辫子将军), to Beijing to counter Duan’s forces. As Zhang Xun led his troops northward, he made the dissolution of Congress a condition. Despite the absence of provisions for congressional dissolution in the Provisional Constitution and other laws, Li was compelled to issue an illegal order, making it the second time, after Yuan Shikai, that Congress was dissolved. Zhang Xun then invited old loyalists such as Kang Youwei to Beijing to carry out a restoration, during which the deposed Last Emperor issued a decree proclaiming, “listening to politics in the court and reclaiming power to initiate a new era with the people.” As Duan Qirui and most of the military governors opposed the restoration, Zhang’s army was swiftly defeated, bringing an end to the short-lived farce that lasted only twelve days.Footnote 31
The defining events of political chaos in the early Republic, from the assassination of Song Jiaoren to the attempted restorations of Yuan Shikai and Zhang Xun, dealt fatal blows to the public confidence in constitutional democracy. These events were particularly disheartening for intellectuals who had advocated for republican democracy, as the vast divide between their ideals and the grim reality became increasingly apparent. In just a few years following the establishment of the Republic in 1911, the chaotic political landscape demonstrated that Chinese elites, disregarding the democratic rules of political game, readily resorted to violence as a means to achieve their goals. Professor Jing Zhiren accurately highlighted this phenomenon, stating:
Every society consists of two opposing forces: conservative and radical. In countries with relatively democratic systems, not only does society possess a solid legal foundation, but the conservative and radical factions also share basic ideals. As a result, their conflicts can be resolved within the framework of the law, without resorting to violence. However, in countries lacking a democratic foundation, conflicts between these two sides often persist and escalate to the point of violence, disregarding the principles of the law.Footnote 32
The Republic of China, unfortunately, fell into the category of “countries lacking a democratic foundation,” where neither the elites nor the general population had embraced the habit of adhering to the rules of political games. In essence, it is crucial for the people to reach a basic agreement among themselves regarding the fundamental rules of power dynamics before they can expect those in power, whether it be Yuan Shikai or Sun Yat-sen, to abide by these rules. Had the people shown their support when the KMT was suppressed by Yuan Shikai, even a powerful warlord like him would not have dared to openly violate the law. Nor would he have gained the ignoble reputation of a “tyrant and thief” (独夫民贼) in Chinese history due to his egregious abuses of power.Footnote 33 The political landscape of the early Republic could have entered a virtuous cycle.
Since China had only recently overthrown absolute monarchy, however, it had yet to establish a contract-based liberal democracy. While the entire nation was united in opposition to the rule of the Manchu minority, there was a lack of knowledge and consensus regarding the fundamental principles by which the country should be governed. The ideas of constitutional democracy had not taken root in the hearts of the people, let alone been put into practice. If ordinary citizens failed to understand and insist on the rules, compelling the elites to abide by them, the elites would simply disregard the rules of democratic politics in the absence of external constraints. If a ruling group is not held accountable for violating the rules, their arrogance and thirst for power will only grow, surpassing every constraint. Yuan Shikai serves as a typical example of his time. From coercing parliamentary members to vote for his presidency to abolishing the Provisional Constitution and dismantling the Congress, his series of flagrantly illegal actions failed to incite significant social protests, further encouraging him to indulge in even more severe and self-destructive abuses of power.
The transition from monarchy to the Republic of China failed to eradicate the deep-rooted winner-takes-all tradition, where political struggles were still governed by the law of the jungle, where victory was determined by sheer violence. The establishment of the Republic did little to change the core nature of court struggles, which continued to be decided by the relative strength of different factions, often relying on military power alone. To be sure, the Republic aimed to change the culture of power worship that had made those in power arrogant and unscrupulous, and had driven power seekers to employ any means necessary to achieve their goals, such as the persecution of reformers like Kang Youwei and Liang Qichao, Yuan Shikai’s restoration and persecution of the KMT, and the ruthless conflicts between the KMT and the Communist Party. Regrettably, the republican political practices had not sufficiently transformed the underlying political culture. The resulting turmoil and chaos in the early Republic quickly led to widespread disillusionment with democracy. Observing the disorder of the republican era, the Chinese public hastily concluded that Western-style democracy was unsuitable for China. Furthermore, the West itself was experiencing its own decline, as it was deeply embroiled in the devastating World War I. Europe, in particular, seemed to be in an irreversible decline, both in terms of its capitalism and democracy. Even an intellectual as wise as Liang Qichao, who had traveled through Europe in 1919, cheerfully declared that “Western civilization has gone bankrupt.”Footnote 34
Just around this time, the October Revolution presented a seemingly quick and attractive solution to China’s desire to break free from its impoverished and humiliating past. The socialist revolution in the neighboring country provided an inspiring blueprint for building a strong nation. Why should China follow the well-trodden path of Western empires, which were not only corrupt but also unjust? As the World War I reached its conclusion, Chen Duxiu, the founder of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), joined other intellectuals in celebrating the defeat of Germany as a triumph of “justice over power.” However, the disappointment caused by the Peace Treaty of Versailles led to a complete reversal in their attitude towards the West.Footnote 35 As late as 1918, Chen still criticized the Boxer Rebellion as a product of ignorant traditional culture. Yet, when confronted with a similar rebellion in 1921–24, he glorified it as a heroic “anti-imperialist struggle.”Footnote 36 Following the May Fourth Movement in 1919, intellectuals who veered left became thoroughly disillusioned with the West and its liberal democracy. As they sought new institutions and forces to transform China’s cultural and political traditions, the country quickly found itself being drawn into the grip of totalitarianism.
2.4 Fatal Changes: Public Opinion around the May Fourth Movement
If the Xinhai Revolution was China’s last chance to establish a social contract, its path towards radicalism was essentially predetermined once this opportunity was missed. While the cooperation among political elites quickly disintegrated, the situation was no better among the ordinary people. As mentioned earlier, political elites were unbridled in violating the rules of the game precisely because the “public opinion” was next to nothing. The vast majority of ordinary citizens were apathetic towards politics, and did not believe they had the power to constrain the behavior of the elites. The intellectuals and young students who did care about politics had already become disillusioned with the corrupt state of republican politics and began searching for fundamental solutions. The New Culture Movement (新文化运动), which took place in 1915–16 and attacked Chinese cultural traditions, did nothing to reverse or prevent a more radical trend in the years to come. In fact, its radical criticism of tradition laid the ideological groundwork for the May Fourth Movement that occurred three years later. Some cultural conservatives argued that the relentless criticism of the Confucian tradition led the nation to lose its moral compass (国是) and fall prey to various “demons.”Footnote 37
On the other hand, simply reverting to the past orthodoxy was not a viable solution. Faced with “the unprecedented changes in the past three millennia,”Footnote 38 China’s political elites were obligated to shape a new national consensus within a limited historical window. This new consensus could not be imposed by political power but had to be freely negotiated among elites representing different interests. Unfortunately, consensus-based politics was foreign to China, and numerous opportunities for cooperation were squandered in irreconcilable confrontations. The failure to establish a liberal social contract between 1911 and 1919 left the people increasingly frustrated with warlord politics. Popular dissatisfaction continued to accumulate, waiting for a spark to ignite a full-blown explosion.
That spark was ignited by a telegram from Paris in late April 1919, revealing that the Western powers in the peace negotiations intended to transfer the right to lease the Jiaodong Peninsula from Germany to Japan instead of returning it to China. Since China was at least a symbolically victorious nation in World War I, the decision highlighted the perceived unfairness and betrayal by Western powers, even though its actual harm to China might have been exaggerated, particularly from the retrospect that China successfully recovered full sovereignty at the Washington Conference in 1921–22.Footnote 39 As the news was widely covered by the media, it destroyed the last goodwill that Chinese intellectuals had for Western liberal democracy and sparked a wave of patriotism and outrage, particularly among the young students who set fire to Zhao’s Mansion during demonstrations on May 4, 1919.
The May Fourth Movement marked a turning point in the mindset of Chinese intellectuals towards Western liberal democracy. In China’s long history, intellectuals have always been considered as the barometer of national sentiment in China. Their expressions not only reflect the collective mentality of a particular period, but also have a profound impact on the broader public, whose opinion determines the direction towards which the nation will develop. In a liberal society that upholds freedom of speech, the nurturing of a rational and tolerant national spirit allows its people to be well informed, participate in self-governance, and gradually address social issues through democratic processes. In contrast, an authoritarian regime stifles free speech, deprives people of opportunities for self-governance, and suppresses avenues for gradual improvement, thereby fostering a poorly informed, narrow-minded, and frustrated public opinion, which is prone to bursts of anger and unrest with even the slightest provocation. The patriotic sentiment triggered by the Paris telegram largely resulted from the systematic repression of free speech and press, which had long prevented the emergence of a rational public opinion in China.
The suppression of rational proposals for political reform by the imperial court during the Qing dynasty indeed played a significant role in fueling revolutionary sentiment among the Chinese public. The Xinhai Revolution did not bring an end to revolutionary discourse. Instead, the disillusionment with the practice of republican politics and the failure to establish a stable and democratic system only heightened the desire for a more radical and thorough revolution. Following the May Fourth Movement, China’s mainstream ideology shifted towards radicalism, and revolutionary totalitarianism began to dominate public discourse. The new ideology advocated for comprehensive state control over every aspect of society, including politics, the economy, speech, thought, and belief. Advocating to use state violence and control to bring about social transformation, it represented a total departure from the concept of a social contract freely formed by the people.
2.4.1 The Characteristics of Chinese Public Opinion in Late Qing and Early Republic
In the first two decades of the twentieth century, a critical period that would determine China’s destiny, the Chinese public opinion exhibited several characteristics. First, the number of newspaper readers was low in comparison with its over 400 million population at the time. The newspaper sales reached a peak during the Xinhai Revolution, but it was still less than 1 percent of the population. In six months after the Wuchang Uprising, the number of newspapers in the country increased from over 100 a decade before to over 500, with a total circulation of 42 million copies.Footnote 40 The number should stand for annual rather than daily circulation, as even the best-selling newspapers at the time printed only around 10,000 copies per day.Footnote 41 Since the vast majority of newspapers had a daily circulation of less than 1,000, the daily sales of over 500 newspapers would be at most several million copies, less than 1 percent of the population. This was unsurprising because, when the Nine-Year Plan for Constitutional Preparation was launched in 1906, it was estimated that the literacy rate in China was less than 1 percent, which was unlikely to rapidly increase in the next decade. In other words, those who fought fiercely on the battlefield of media, be they the revolutionaries, reformers, or conservatives, constituted together only a small minority of elites, while the vast majority of the nation remained completely ignorant and indifferent to the dynamics of public opinion that would determine the direction of the national development.
Second, the Chinese news media at the time lacked the tradition of independent journalism based on objectivity and impartiality. The influential newspapers, whether run by reformers or revolutionaries, were essentially “party newspapers” whose finance and personnel depended on particular political parties or factions. Their primary function was to promote specific political positions and opinions rather than provide political information to the general public. As a result, it was almost inevitable for them to slander or spread rumors under political directives. For example, Hui Bao (汇报), one of the first Chinese newspapers founded in 1874 by a Chinese, Rong Hong (容闳), known as the very first Chinese student studying abroad, was accused by Shun Pao (申报), the oldest Chinese newspaper owned by the British, of being “frequently false” and was discontinued within a year and a half of its publication.Footnote 42 Instead of reaching an agreement on objective facts, these newspapers constantly attacked each other, making it difficult for ordinary readers to judge what to believe and to cultivate the civic habit of impartial rationality. Since most citizens were predisposed, prejudiced, and ignorant about simple facts, China was full of mutually opposed radical sentiments, making it impossible to reach basic political consensus, much less a social contract.
Third, during the late Qing dynasty, the media industry was heavily influenced by state violence, effectively fueling radical public opinion and promoting the development of revolutionary forces. In 1894, when Sun Yat-sen founded the Society for Reviving China (兴中会) in Honolulu, it initially attracted few responses in the first five years. In comparison, when Kang Youwei established the Royalist Society (保皇会) overseas in 1899, the response was overwhelming, with donations exceeding US$1.6 million. When they founded the influential Times (时报) in 1904, they were able to take out 100,000 yuan to start the newspaper immediately. However, as time went by, the balance of power gradually tipped towards the revolutionary forces. The reformers found fundraising increasingly difficult to the point that when Liang Qichao traveled to Taiwan in 1911 to raise the same amount for another newspaper, he returned with nothing.Footnote 43
The popular support for the royalist faction was weakened not so much by the revolutionary party as by the imperial court’s stubborn refusal to reform. The reformers, represented by Kang and Liang, demanded constitutional reform and a limited monarchy, essentially to maintain the stability and longevity of the Qing dynasty. Despite their mildness, the reformist views were repeatedly suppressed. In July 1907, Liang secretly returned to Shanghai to establish the newspaper Political Commentary (政论), with the aim of “implementing a parliamentary system and building a responsible government” so that the reformers could offer advice on policies regarding the Congress, finance, currency, and local autonomy. As these pieces of advice would be entirely constructive, such a newspaper would obviously benefit the imperial rule in the long run. In August 1908, however, the Qing government banned the Political News Society (政闻社) on the grounds that it would “rally partisans and plot to incite disturbances and disrupt public security under the name of studying current affairs.”Footnote 44 As a result, Political Commentary ceased publication. In February 1910, Liang founded the National Morale Daily (国风报) in Shanghai. While mildly praising the imperial court for its effort to prepare for constitutional monarchy, having experienced repeated delays and repressions by an insincere and incompetent court, he could not help but express harsh words such as that “the country will fall into chaos within three years, to the point of demise.”Footnote 45 Between 1898 and 1911, at least fifty-three newspapers were banned, accounting for more than a third of the total newspapers at the time. In connection with this, twenty-five people were arrested and two were killed.Footnote 46
Since the Qing government stubbornly refused to establish a constitutional monarchy, the moderate reformist position was vulnerable to attacks and ridicules from the revolutionary party, which often emerged on the winning side of debates. Its repeated rejection of reform had made revolution the only viable means to realize constitutionalism. As pointed out by a revolutionary, “the authoritarian regime is a sharp axe that harms the public interest of the nation and exploits the rights of the people. Therefore, born in a civilized world, where justice is clear and the rights consciousness is strong, everyone will seek to overthrow the despotic regime.”Footnote 47 Revolutionary newspapers such as the People (民报) did everything they could to ridicule and insult the reformers. They not only made attacking social reformers their top priority, but also scorned every measure of constitutional reform taken by the Qing court. One of its articles accused the Qing government of “covering the people’s ears and eyes by borrowing the empty name of constitutionalism.”Footnote 48 Another revolutionary newspaper, Public Opinion (民心), insisted on “engaging in revolution without being swayed by constitutionalism.”Footnote 49
The stubbornness of the imperial court not only led to the general radicalization of public opinion but also radicalized the revolutionary faction itself. Initially, the conflicts between the revolutionary and reformist factions were not irreconcilable. In January 1900, the revolutionary party established its official newspaper, China Daily, with the expectation of cooperating with reformers such as Kang and Liang, and even the enlightened Qing officials, such as Li Hongzhang, for whom it expressed much praise. However, radical anti-Manchu speeches soon emerged. Zou Rong’s Revolutionary Army (革命军), the most influential revolutionary pamphlet of the time, opened with a call to kill all five million Manchus “who wear furs and horns.”Footnote 50 Written by an eighteen-year-old youth, the radical pamphlet was published in more than twenty editions, totaling over 1.1 million copies. In 1903, Chen Tianhua’s Fierce Turn (猛回头) also expressed strong racial revanchism. As anti-Manchu sentiments grew more intense, the revolutionary forces continued to expand. After the establishment of the Alliance Society (同盟会), the number of students studying in Japan reached up to 20,000 per year, of which Sun Yat-sen claimed that 80–90 percent supported the revolution. Revolutionary violence had become a popular trend, as reflected in the popularity of the press. Whenever newspapers reported news about armed uprisings, such as the one taking place at Yellow Flower Hill (黄花岗), “sales would greatly increase until all copies were sold out, while a newspaper carrying any derogatory speeches about the revolution would find no buyers.”Footnote 51
By the eve of the Xinhai Revolution, the Chinese public had become desperate about the prospects of imperial reform, and revolution was seen as the only remaining option for China. In July 1911, two influential short commentaries published in the Great River Daily (大江报) reflected the prevailing sentiment at the time. One argued that only revolution could save China, dismissing other methods of promoting imperial reform such as “no acknowledgment” or “no tax payment” as pedantic and futile.Footnote 52 The other commentary, written by the celebrated scholar Huang Kan (黄侃), asserted that peaceful reform was impossible, and that “great chaos” was the only “magic medicine” to save China:
China is in a situation where everything appears hopeless, and every path leads to a dead end. The terminal disease is already incurable. Yet everyone is intoxicated and dreaming, unaware that the time of death is approaching. Long days feel like years, wasted in lethargy. Everyone is sick like a paralyzed flower. In such a time, only a tremendous shock and radical reform can awaken the 400 million people from their slumber. They are all happily wearing the official title of slaves to a doomed nation (亡国奴) without even realizing it. Since peaceful reform has been rendered impossible by the logic of things, the ensuing great chaos without rules will cause deep wounds and great pains to the people, pushing them to the brink of destruction. But it will also make them suddenly abandon their slavish mentality towards a doomed nation and open up the possibility of hope in the absence of a better alternative. Therefore, the great chaos is truly the magic medicine to save China today.Footnote 53
The establishment of the Republic did not substantially improve the state of press freedom. On the contrary, the suppression of the press became even more severe under warlord rule than during the Qing dynasty. Soon after the Republic was established, northeastern newspapers such as the Three Northeastern Provinces’ People (东三省民报) were physically destroyed, and the editors and managers were beaten up. The Minister of the Interior, Zhao Bingjun (赵秉钧), and the Infantry Commander led over 200 soldiers to surround the office of the Central News (中央新闻) and arrested 11 persons. Civil Rights Daily (民权报) in Shanghai was harshly accused by the Public Concession for its criticism of the finance minister for raising foreign debt. Its chief editor, Dai Jitao (戴季陶), was arrested and fined on charges of “inciting assassination” and “disturbing order.” Vice President Li Yuanhong closed revolutionary newspapers such as the Great River Daily (大江报), Public Opinion (民心) and Liberty Daily (自由报) in Wuhan on charges of “fabricating rumors” and “bewitching people’s mind.” Even enlightened constitutionalists did no better once they were in power. The military governor of Hunan, Tan Yankai (谭延闿), allowed local officials to ban newspapers such as Yueyang Daily (岳阳日报), which exposed officials’ malfeasance and disturbance of local people. The acting military governor of Guangdong, Chen Jiongming (陈炯明), banned the Public Speech Daily (公言报) and killed two journalists. Aurora People’s Daily (震旦民报), founded by Zhang Zhenwu (张振武), the chief of staff of the Hubei military governor’s office, published the “Hero Hiding under Bed” and other articles satirizing Li Yuanhong,Footnote 54 who instigated Yuan Shikai to assassinate Zhang after he was lured to Beijing. Han Yan (韩衍), a member of the Alliance Society and the founder of the Anhui Ship (安徽船) and Youth Army News (青年军报), was assassinated as soon as he published his views openly opposing Sun Yat-sen’s transfer of presidency to Yuan Shikai.Footnote 55
When Song Jiaoren was assassinated in March 1913, newspapers affiliated with the Nationalist Party extensively alleged that Yuan Shikai was the mastermind behind the assassination. In November, after Yuan dissolved the Nationalist Party, many newspapers against the president were confiscated, and the newspapers in concessions were banned from sale. By the end of the year, only 139 domestic newspapers were still publishing, a decrease of more than 300. Not only were newspapers with strong anti-Yuan sentiments banned, but even moderate newspapers such as the New Current Events (时事新报) in Shanghai, Great Han Daily (大汉报) in Wuhan and New National Daily (国民新报) in Chengdu were accused of “spreading unfounded rumors” and “confusing military spirit” for occasionally offending Yuan’s faction, and were closed or prohibited from delivery. Some journalists were even shot, mostly on the charges of “confusing military spirit” and “secretly aiding the partisans, with the plot to overthrow the government.” The editor of the People Stand Daily (民立报) was accused of opposing Yuan simply for writing a eulogy for Song Jiaoren, and was immediately bound for execution without trial. During Yuan Shikai’s presidency from 1912 to 1916, at least seventy-one newspapers were banned, forty-nine were interrogated, and nine were destroyed by the military police, with at least twenty-four journalists killed and sixty imprisoned.Footnote 56
In March 1916, after Yuan Shikai’s imperial ambition failed, the previously banned newspapers and periodicals were allowed to resume publication. In July, the Interior Department of Beijing Municipal Government ordered the lifting of bans on twenty-one publications. By the end of the year, the number of newspapers had recovered to 289 nationwide. The situation did not last, however. In June 1917, Li Huiquan (李汇泉), the editor and publisher of the Southern Canton Daily (南越报) in Guangzhou, was executed without trial for opposing gambling. In June 1918, Chen Gengfu (陈耿夫), a journalist for the Guangzhou-based Democracy Daily (民主报), was arrested by the Guangxi military warlords for attacking their control of finances and undermining the rule of law, and was executed on charges of “inciting mutiny.” In October 1918, the Anhui military warlords enacted the Newspaper Law, imposing strict and detailed regulations on content, and incidents of newspaper closures and journalist arrests continued to occur. Between 1916 and 1918, at least twenty-nine newspapers were banned, and seventeen journalists were punished under criminal law.Footnote 57
Not only were the media suppressed by the state, but newspapers representing different political views often attacked each other personally, sometimes even escalating into a “spectacular warfare of beating up persons and destroying newspapers.”Footnote 58 Dozens of staff members from seven newspapers affiliated with the Beijing Alliance Society once destroyed the National Gazette (国民公报) and assaulted its chief editor. The Hunan Gazette, a publication of the Republican Party in Changsha, was destroyed by the Changsha Daily, affiliated with the Nationalists. Both sides were prepared for armed conflict, to the point where “each reporter carried a handgun when coming and going.”Footnote 59 Journalists from various Nationalist newspapers sent to Beijing, governed by warlords, were also armed for self-defense. While the revolutionary party initially advocated for freedom of speech and press, they abandoned their original promise once they had gained political power and, like their predecessors, used state power and violence to suppress different viewpoints. In the highly tense media atmosphere, the political natural law of free press was repeatedly disregarded. Since the partisan struggles knew no limits, it was impossible to peacefully practice contract-based politics.
2.4.2 The Public Opinion Change in 1911–1919: A Quantitative Illustration
From 1911 to 1919, the setbacks in the political practices of the early Republic of China explained the radical shift in national sentiment, which was reflected in the public opinion of national newspapers during this period. Inspired by the work of Jin Guantao (金观涛) and Liu Qingfeng (刘青峰), I used the Modern Periodicals database in the National Newspaper Index developed by the Shanghai Library to search for keyword frequencies.Footnote 60 Although the quantitative indicators are somewhat crude, they can intuitively demonstrate the social impact of related concepts. Taking the word “constitutionalism” (立宪) as an example, it had the highest frequency of appearance in the first decade of the twentieth century. During the first five years of the 1900s, when the constitutional reform of the imperial court was in slumber, “constitutionalism” was not popular in the newspapers. In 1905, however, when the Qing government sent five ministers to study constitutionalism abroad and announced to “implement constitutionalism by imitation,” the word suddenly surged to its peak, reflecting the sharp increase in social awareness of constitutionalism. Afterward, the number of articles discussing “constitutionalism” gradually decreased, indicating that the concept had faded from the Chinese social vision (see Figure 2.1).


Figure 2.1 The total number of articles with titles containing “constitutionalism” (a) by decade, 1900–1949 and (b) annually, 1900–1909.
A related concept is “republicanism” (共和), and its comparison with “democracy” (民主) is particularly thought-provoking. As pointed out by Jin Guantao and Liu Qingfeng, the concept of “republicanism” declined after 1919, while “democracy” became increasingly more frequent, with its meaning shifting from people’s rule to “democratic dictatorship” (民主专政) and its core values settling on political and economic equality.Footnote 61 This transformation did not happen immediately, however. As shown in Figure 2.2, while the frequency of “republicanism” peaked in 1912 to 1913 and sharply declined thereafter, it still exceeded “democracy,” a trend undisturbed by the May Fourth Movement. The transformation took place only in the 1930s, when the frequency of “democracy” began to skyrocket, and far surpassed “republicanism” in the 1940s, symbolizing the complete dominance of populism in Chinese public opinion. In the database of the Shanghai Library, the top three periodicals with the most numerous titles containing “democracy” were all left-wing publications: National Information (国讯), Times Magazine (时代杂志) and News Classification (新闻类编).Footnote 62


Figure 2.2 The total number of articles with titles containing “republic” (共和) or “democracy” (民主) (a) by decade, 1870–1949 and (b) annually, 1910–1927.
Note: The number of article titles for “democracy” has excluded that for the “Three People’s Doctrine” (三民主义).
Compared to popular terms such as “democracy” and “republicanism,” terms of “social contract” (社会契约) or “civil covenant” (民约) were negligible. In the Shanghai Library’s database, this concept first appeared in the periodicals around 1900, but in the following half-century, there were only thirty-one articles with titles bearing these terms. After reaching two small peaks in 1913 to 1914 and 1929,Footnote 63 this concept declined and disappeared altogether (see Figure 2.3). More important, most of the discussions at the time focused on Rousseau’s social contract theory, which had conceptual flaws and produced serious harms when put into practice, particularly for underdeveloped countries such as Russia and China.Footnote 64 Little attention was given to the social contract theories of Hobbes and Locke. A rare article about Locke discussed his theory of sovereignty rather than the social contract itself.Footnote 65 Indeed, the primary focus of these articles was not social contract, but rather the more concrete problem of constitutional designs, which ought to be based on the social contract.

Figure 2.3 The combined total number of articles with titles containing “social contract” (民约) and “social covenant” (社会契约) by decade (1900–1949).
Liang Qichao, a prominent figure who strongly promoted Rousseau’s theory, served as a typical example.Footnote 66 While he published a series on the Study of Rousseau (卢梭学案) in his own newspaper, the China Discussion (清议报), he did not truly grasp Rousseau’s theory. As evidence, he used the egalitarian social contract as the basis of his argument for constitutional monarchy in a debate with the revolutionary leader Wang Jingwei about the desirable form of a political system, which ultimately ended in failure.Footnote 67 Only many years later did Liang realize the radical implications of Rousseau’s theory and its dangers to China’s constitutional reform.Footnote 68 If even Liang Qichao, known as the “first person” to enlighten China with modern Western theories, had such a limited understanding, it can be inferred that the general public had even less comprehension of the social contract theory. Needless to say, a political practice based on the consciousness of social contract had never existed before or after the republican revolution.
After the establishment of the Republic, the New Culture Movement made little intellectual progress in propagating the social contract ideas, and the May Fourth Movement marked the very end of the liberal enlightenment in China. Even Hu Shih, a recognized leader of China’s liberal movement, never took interest in the topic. In 1917, as the October Revolution shook Chinese intellectuals, the term “revolution” (革命) experienced a small surge in popularity. After 1919, the radical student movement and the rapid spread of left-wing ideology further diminished the interest in the social contract. In contrast, the number of articles discussing “revolution” skyrocketed, far surpassing the peak reached during the Xinhai Revolution (see Figure 2.4). In fact, throughout history, except for the last decade of the nineteenth century, the popularity of “revolution” consistently outweighed that of “reform,” aligning with the research of Jin Guantao and Liu Qingfeng.Footnote 69

Figure 2.4 The total number of articles with titles containing “reform” or “revolution” by decade (1890–1949).
Note: The number of article titles for “revolution” excludes the articles containing “National Revolutionary Army” (国民革命军), which frequently appeared in various government announcements.
From the outset, revolutionary magazines closely followed the events of the Russian Revolution and displayed a strong interest in revolutionary violence. For example, the periodical of the revolutionary party, Jiangsu, advocated for violent revolution, asserting that the Russian Revolution succeeded because the Russian people were “good at revolt! Good at killing officials, killing the monarch, killing foreign nationals!!!”Footnote 70 In addition to promoting revolutionary violence, these periodicals also demonstrated great interest in radical left-wing ideologies such as communism. Interestingly, it was not the Communist Party but the revolutionary party led by Sun Yat-sen that initially introduced socialist and anarchist ideas. As early as 1903, the editorial of Jiangsu praised the “communist doctrine of equalizing wealth and poverty.”Footnote 71 Another revolutionary journal, Zhejiang Tide (浙江潮), criticized capitalist inequality and exploitation, predicting a “purely socialist world at the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.”Footnote 72 Believing that “socialism will increase the happiness of mankind and eliminate misfortunes,” it called for the abolition of private ownership and property inheritance.Footnote 73 In 1905, during the first Russian Revolution, the Chinese Times introduced various Russian factions such as the Decemberists, Social Democrats, and anarchists. Through authors like Liao Zhongkai (廖仲恺) and Song Jiaoren, it systematically translated and compiled socialist doctrines, including the Communist Manifesto. Translations of the Manifesto’s preface and main text were continuously published in Heavenly Justice (天义报), an anarchist-oriented revolutionary newspaper.Footnote 74
The May Fourth Movement in 1919 was not intentionally initiated by the left-wing forces in China at that time, but was triggered by the opportunistic propaganda of the marginalized Study Society (研究系) in an attempt to regain political prominence.Footnote 75 However, it became a necessity due to the prevailing radical sentiment, and fundamentally reshaped the national political landscape, marking a watershed moment in modern Chinese history. The year 1919 witnessed the emergence of several key concepts and events. From this point on, words such as “Marx,” “Lenin,” “Soviet,” “Communist Party,” “Socialism,” and “Communism” all experienced explosive growth (see Figure 2.5). “Socialism” had a minor peak in 1912, thanks to Sun Yat-sen’s introduction of the concept. “Communism” enjoyed a small surge in 1914, but was associated with “anarchy” at the time. After 1919, however, all these concepts received contemporary orthodox interpretations.

Figure 2.5 The total number of articles with titles containing “socialism,” “communism,” or “Communist Party” by decade (1900–1949).
Indeed, the May Fourth Movement not only gave birth to the Communist Party, but also revitalized the Nationalist Party that was declining in vitality.Footnote 76 The terms “Lenin” and “Soviet” experienced a small peak in frequency in 1923–24 when Sun Yat-sen reorganized the Nationalist Party based on Soviet principles (Figure 2.6a). From 1927 to 1949, the “Three People’s Principle” experienced a long-lasting climax (Figure 2.6b), corresponding to the era of the one-party rule (党治) after the success of the Northern Expedition and, serving this purpose, the beginning of the deification movement of the “founding father” (国父). Following the advice of Soviet advisors, Sun Yat-sen completed in 1924 the reorganization of the Nationalist Party in Guangzhou. In the following year, the Guangzhou government was transformed into the “National Government” through the National Government Organization Law, establishing the earliest form of party rule in China.


Figure 2.6 The total number of articles with titles containing (a) “Marx,” “Lenin,” and “Soviet” by decade, 1910–1949 and (b) “Soviet,” “Lenin,” and “Three People’s Doctrine” annually, 1918–1927.
According to Article 1 of the Organization Law, “the National Government handles national affairs under the command and supervision of the Nationalist Party.” From the beginning, the Organization Law adopted the principle of “one authority” without clearly defining the powers and limits of the National Government. It appeared to be a comprehensive body that combined legislative, executive, and judicial powers. Although subsequent modifications gave it the rudimentary form of a “five-powers constitution” (五权宪法), the government functioned merely as an instrument of the party, subject to its command and supervision at all times. The government’s role was to reflect the party’s will and implement its power. Party resolutions or commands were often directly copied into official government documents and ordinances. Even after several revisions to the Organization Law following the victory of the Northern Expedition, the principle of party rule remained unchanged throughout the constitutional-making process of that period. As advocated by Hu Hanmin (胡汉民), a right-wing leader within the Nationalist Party, strict one-party dictatorship was to be implemented during the entire period of “tutelage politics” (训政):
There is not only no party outside the party, but also no politics outside the party … all powers are concentrated by the party and carried out by the party. The party is responsible for babysitting the government, so it leads the government and supports the government … Only the party could represent the entire nation and undertake the task of nation-building, and only the party could guide the people of the entire nation towards realizing the Three People’s Principle.Footnote 77
As Chinese history has repeatedly shown, the result of implementing one-party dictatorship in society inevitably leads to personal dictatorship within the party. Chiang Kai-shek concentrated party, government, and military powers in his hands. The system of party dictatorship created the necessary and often sufficient political conditions for personal dictatorship.
The vicissitudes of the political concepts such as “constitutionalism,” “republicanism,” “democracy,” “social contract,” “reform,” “revolution,” “socialism,” “communism,” and the “Three People’s Principle” from 1911 to 1919 illustrated that the Chinese intellectual elites and the general public were ignorant about the contract-based politics, dissatisfied with the political chaos brought by republic constitutionalism, skeptical of the Western liberal democracy, and yearning for Soviet revolution and communism. As a result, the Leninist totalitarianism gained widespread popularity in China. After 1919, totalitarian revolutionary extremism dominated China’s mainstream ideology. Both the Nationalist and the Communist parties were advocates of totalitarianism. In that sense, China’s destiny was already foreclosed by 1919, awaiting only a military victory for the formal ascendence of a totalitarian regime. With the Nationalist reorganization in 1924 and the success of the Northern Expedition in 1927, the one-party dictatorship system finally entered the historical stage, with the Nationalist creed of the “Three People’s Principle” taking over as the new orthodoxy, which completely eliminated all remnants of the failed contract-based politics of the early Republic. By the time when the cooperation between the two revolutionary parties broke down again in 1946, and the Nationalist was defeated in the ensuing civil war, an even greater totalitarian Leviathan was established, under which China has been governed to this day.
2.5 Conclusions
If the past of modern China is too painful a lesson to look back on, what about its contemporary situation, after a century of travails is over? On the one hand, since 1978, China has experienced another opportunity for reform that lasted for forty years. Although political reform suffered a major setback merely a decade later and stagnated, as the Hundred Days’ Reform did in 1898, economic reform continued shortly. In a few years, market-oriented reforms injected enormous vitality into Chinese society, and private contracts became prevalent. The Chinese economy gradually shifted from a state-controlled planned economy to a market economy led by private contracts. On the other hand, the contract-based economy has not transformed into a contract-based politics. Like a century ago, China today still lacks minimal awareness of social contract. None of the five political natural laws – freedom of religion and belief, freedom of speech, equal protection (especially against ethnic discrimination), electoral democracy, administrative impartiality, and judicial independence – has been implemented. While judicial reform, the least politically sensitive reform, was put on the agenda after 1999, it reached an impasse only after two decades, by which time even “judicial independence” had become a “sensitized word” (敏感词). The other four principles were not so blatantly violated in the four decades since 1978 as they were in the first three decades after 1949, but they have not been implemented to any degree. While elections of the basic-level people’s congresses (基层人大) were once active in the early 1980s, they have remained stagnant ever since, to the point that every congressional election in China is heavily controlled and manipulated by the ruling party. Since substantive political reform cannot move forward, China today has returned to the debate between reform and revolution found prevalent in the late Qing dynasty.
To be sure, as discussed in the next chapter, the basic freedoms of ordinary people have improved significantly as a matter of fact over four decades of reform. Especially in the past twenty years, with the rapid development of internet technology, people’s ability to express opinions and receive information has greatly increased, and civil society has grown rapidly. If contemporary China is any different from itself a century ago, it is that the people’s right to know, legal knowledge, and the awareness of participation have achieved a quantum leap, which is the precondition to transition from totalitarian regime to a polity based on social contract. While the actions of political and social elites are no doubt important in regime transition, it is easy to overlook the role of ordinary people in establishing the social contract. The lessons of Chinese modern history repeatedly show that, if the general public remains unenlightened, the elite behaviors will not adhere to the basic rules of political game, as violation of the rules will go unpunished. In fact, since all reformist elites were removed from the system since 1989, progressive forces can only emerge from an enlightened and self-conscious community of the people. If their demand for reform is broad and strong enough, a horizontal alliance may result from the process of forming a consensus for reform, leading to a social contract.
It must be acknowledged, however, that the civil society in China, growing out of the thawing totalitarian iceberg, is still feeble. Civilian alliances not only face oppression from the state, but also lack solidarity among themselves. Under top-down fragmentation and disintegration, horizontal connections are easily shattered. Compared with the late Qing dynasty, China today faces a much deeper political dilemma. If the reformist elites have disappeared or at least cannot appear publicly, is the civilian alliance alone sufficient to reach a social contract? The prospects for such an outcome are slim today. Not only are factions within civil society intolerant of each other, but even within the liberal camp, the moderate and radical factions have little common ground. Similar to their predecessors such as Kang Youwei and Liang Qichao a century ago, moderate reformists today are ridiculed and mocked by radical proponents of revolution in an environment where the party-state stubbornly refuses to reform and harshly suppresses free speech. It cannot be predicted whether China can break free from the vicious cycle of failed reform and revolution. However, it is certain that if it continues to fail in reaching a social contract centered on political natural laws, and if both its elites and general public continue to indulge in power worship and the jungle logic of winner takes all, China is destined to remain trapped in the vicious cycle that has persisted for two millennia.








