Podcasts about qing

Last time we spoke about the Changsha fire. Chiang Kai-shek faced a brutal choice: defend Wuhan to the last man or flood the land to slow the invaders. He chose both, pushing rivers and rallying a fractured army as Japanese forces pressed along the Yangtze. Fortresses at Madang held long, but the cost was high—troops lost, civilians displaced, a city's heart burning in the night. Wuhan fell after months of brutal fighting, yet the battle did not break China's will. Mao Zedong urged strategy over martyrdom, preferring to drain the enemy and buy time for a broader struggle. The Japanese, though victorious tactically, found their strength ebbing, resource strains, supply gaps, and a war that felt endless. In the wake of Wuhan, Changsha stood next in the Japanese crosshairs, its evacuation and a devastating fire leaving ash and memory in its wake. Behind these prices, political currents swirled. Wang Jingwei defected again, seeking power beyond Chiang's grasp, while Chongqing rose as a western bastion of resistance. The war hardened into a protracted stalemate, turning Japan from an aggressive assailant into a wary occupier, and leaving China to endure, persist, and fight on.   #175  The Soviet-Japanese Border Conflicts Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. So based on the title of this one, you probably can see we are taking a bit of a detour. For quite some time we have focused on the Japanese campaigns into China proper 1937-1938. Now the way the second sino-japanese war is traditionally broken down is in phases. 1937-1938, 1939-1942 and 1942-1945. However there is actually even more going on in China aside from the war with Japan. In Xinjiang province a large full blown Islamic revolution breaks out in 1937. We will be covering that story at a later date, but another significant event is escalating border skirmishes in Manchukuo. Now these border skirmishes had been raging ever since the USSR consolidated its hold over the far east. We talked about some of those skirmishes prior to the Sino-Soviet war in 1929. However when Japan created the puppet government of Manchukuo, this was a significant escalation in tensions with the reds. Today we are going to talk about the escalating border conflicts between the Soviets and Japan. A tongue of poorly demarcated land extends southeast from Hunchun, hugging the east bank of the Tumen River between Lake Khasan to the east and Korea to the west. Within this tongue stands Changkufeng Hill, one of a long chain of highlands sweeping from upstream along the rivers and moors toward the sea. The twin-peaked hill sits at the confluence area several miles northwest of the point where Manchuria, Korea, and the Russian Far East meet. The hill's shape reminded Koreans of their changgo, which is a long snare drum constricted at the center and tapped with the hands at each end. When the Manchus came to the Tumen, they rendered the phonetic sounds into three ideographic characters meaning "taut drum peaks" or Chang-ku-feng. The Japanese admired the imagery and preserved the Chinese readings, which they pronounce Cho-ko-ho. From their eastern vantage, the Russians called it Zaozernaya, "hill behind the lake." Soviet troops referred to it as a sugar-loaf hill. For many years, natives and a handful of officials in the region cultivated a relaxed attitude toward borders and sovereignty. Even after the Japanese seized Manchuria in 1931, the issue did not immediately come to a head. With the expansion of Manchukuo and the Soviet Far East under Stalin's Five-Year plans, both sides began to attend more closely to frontier delimitation. Whenever either party acted aggressively, force majeure was invoked to justify the unexpected and disruptive events recognized in international law. Most often, these incidents erupted along the eastern Manchurian borders with the USSR or along the 350-mile frontier south of Lake Khanka, each skirmish carrying the seeds of all-out warfare. Now we need to talk a little bit about border history. The borders in question essentially dated to pacts concluded by the Qing dynasty and the Tsardom. Between the first Sino-Russian Treaty of Nerchinsk in 1689 and the Mukden Agreement of 1924, there were over a dozen accords governing the borders. Relevant to Changkufeng were the basic 15-article Convention of Peking, supplementing the Tientsin Treaties of November 1860, some maps made in 1861, and the eight-article Hunchun Border Protocol of 1886. By the 1860 treaty, the Qing ceded to Tsarist Russia the entire maritime province of Siberia, but the meaning of "lands south of Lake Khanka" remained rather vague. Consequently, a further border agreement was negotiated in June 1861 known as "the Lake Khanka Border Pact", by which demarcations were drawn on maps and eight wooden markers erected. The border was to run from Khanka along ridgelines between the Hunchun River and the sea, past Suifenho and Tungning, terminating about 6 miles from the mouth of the Tumen. Then a Russo-Chinese commission established in 1886 drew up the Hunchun Border Pact, proposing new or modified markers along the 1860–1861 lines and arranging a Russian resurvey. However, for the Japanese, in 1938, the Chinese or Manchu texts of the 1886 Hunchun agreement were considered controlling. The Soviets argued the border ran along every summit west of Khasan, thereby granting them jurisdiction over at least the eastern slopes of all elevations, including Changkufeng and Shachaofeng.  Since the Qing dynasty and the house of Romanov were already defunct, the new sovereignties publicly appealed to opposing texts, and the Soviet side would not concede that the Russian-language version had never been deemed binding by the Qing commissioners. Yet, even in 1938, the Japanese knew that only the Chinese text had survived or could be located.    Now both the Chinese and Russian military maps generally drew the frontier along the watershed east of Khasan; this aligned with the 1861 readings based on the Khanka agreement. The Chinese Republican Army conducted new surveys sometime between 1915 and 1920. The latest Chinese military map of the Changkufeng area drew the border considerably closer to the old "red line" of 1886, running west of Khasan but near the shore rather than traversing the highland crests. None of the military delimitations of the border was sanctified by an official agreement. Hence, the Hunchun Protocol, whether well known or not, invaluable or worthless, remained the only government-to-government pact dealing with the frontiers.  Before we jump into it, how about a little summary of what became known as the Soviet-Japanese border conflicts. The first major conflict would obviously be the Russo-Japanese war of 1904-1905. Following years of conflict between the Russian Empire and Japan culminating in the costly Battle of Tsushima, Tsar Nicholas II's government sought peace, recognizing Japan's claims to Korea and agreeing to evacuate Manchuria.  From 1918 to 1920, the Imperial Japanese Army, under Emperor Taishō after the death of Meiji, assisted the White Army and Alexander Kerensky against the Bolshevik Red Army. They also aided the Czechoslovak Legion in Siberia to facilitate its return to Europe after an Austrian-Hungarian armoured train purportedly went astray. By 1920, with Austria-Hungary dissolved and Czechoslovakia established two years earlier, the Czechoslovak Legion reached Europe. Japan withdrew from the Russian Revolution and the Civil War in 1922. Following Japan's 1919-1920 occupations and the Soviet intervention in Mongolia in 1921, the Republic of China also withdrew from Outer Mongolia in 1921. In 1922, after capturing Vladivostok in 1918 to halt Bolshevik advances, Japanese forces retreated to Japan as Bolshevik power grew and the postwar fatigue among combatants increased. After Hirohito's invasion of Manchuria in 1931–1932, following Taishō's death in 1926, border disputes between Manchukuo, the Mongolian People's Republic, and the Soviet Union increased. Many clashes stemmed from poorly defined borders, though some involved espionage. Between 1932 and 1934, the Imperial Japanese Army reported 152 border disputes, largely tied to Soviet intelligence activity in Manchuria, while the Soviets accused Japan of 15 border violations, six air intrusions, and 20 cases of "spy smuggling" in 1933 alone. Numerous additional violations followed in the ensuing years. By the mid-1930s, Soviet-Japanese diplomacy and trust had deteriorated further, with the Japanese being openly labeled "fascist enemies" at the Seventh Comintern Congress in July 1935. Beginning in 1935, conflicts significantly escalated. On 8 January 1935, the first armed clash, known as the Halhamiao incident, took place on the border between Mongolia and Manchukuo. Several dozen cavalrymen of the Mongolian People's Army crossed into Manchuria near disputed fishing grounds and engaged an 11‑man Manchukuo Imperial Army patrol near the Buddhist temple at Halhamiao, led by a Japanese military advisor. The Manchukuo Army sustained 6 wounded and 2 dead, including the Japanese officer; the Mongols suffered no casualties and withdrew after the Japanese sent a punitive expedition to reclaim the area. Two motorized cavalry companies, a machine‑gun company, and a tankette platoon occupied the position for three weeks without resistance. In June 1935, the first direct exchange of fire between the Japanese and Soviets occurred when an 11‑man Japanese patrol west of Lake Khanka was attacked by six Soviet horsemen, reportedly inside Manchukuo territory. In the firefight, one Soviet soldier was killed and two horses were captured. The Japanese requested a joint investigation, but the Soviets rejected the proposal. In October 1935, nine Japanese and 32 Manchukuoan border guards were establishing a post about 20 kilometers north of Suifenho when they were attacked by 50 Soviet soldiers. The Soviets opened fire with rifles and five heavy machine guns. Two Japanese and four Manchukuoan soldiers were killed, and another five were wounded. The Manchukuoan foreign affairs representative lodged a verbal protest with the Soviet consul at Suifenho. The Kwantung Army of Japan also sent an intelligence officer to investigate the clash. On 19 December 1935, a Manchukuoan unit reconnoitering southwest of Buir Lake clashed with a Mongolian party, reportedly capturing 10 soldiers. Five days later, 60 truck‑borne Mongolian troops assaulted the Manchukuoans and were repulsed, at the cost of three Manchukuoan dead. On the same day, at Brunders, Mongolian forces attempted three times to drive out Manchukuoan outposts, and again at night, but all attempts failed. Further small attempts occurred in January, with Mongolians using airplanes for reconnaissance. The arrival of a small Japanese force in three trucks helped foil these attempts; casualties occurred on both sides, though Mongolian casualties are unknown aside from 10 prisoners taken. In February 1936, Lieutenant-Colonel Sugimoto Yasuo was ordered to form a detachment from the 14th Cavalry Regiment to "drive the Outer Mongol intruders from the Olankhuduk region," a directive attributed to Lieutenant-General Kasai Heijuro. Sugimoto's detachment included cavalry guns, heavy machine guns, and tankettes. They faced a force of about 140 Mongolians equipped with heavy machine guns and light artillery. On February 12, Sugimoto's men drove the Mongolians south, at the cost of eight Japanese killed, four wounded, and one tankette destroyed. The Japanese began to withdraw, but were attacked by 5–6 Mongolian armored cars and two bombers, which briefly disrupted the column. The situation was stabilized when the Japanese unit received artillery support, allowing them to destroy or repel the armored cars. In March 1936, the Tauran incident occurred. In this clash, both the Japanese Army and the Mongolian Army deployed a small number of armored fighting vehicles and aircraft. The incident began when 100 Mongolian and six Soviet troops attacked and occupied the disputed village of Tauran, Mongolia, driving off the small Manchurian garrison. They were supported by light bombers and armored cars, though the bombing sorties failed to inflict damage on the Japanese, and three bombers were shot down by Japanese heavy machine guns. Local Japanese forces counter-attacked, conducting dozens of bombing sorties and finally assaulting Tauran with 400 men and 10 tankettes. The result was a Mongolian rout, with 56 Mongolian soldiers killed, including three Soviet advisors, and an unknown number wounded. Japanese losses were 27 killed and 9 wounded. Later in March 1936, another border clash occurred between Japanese and Soviet forces. Reports of border violations prompted the Japanese Korean Army to send ten men by truck to investigate, but the patrol was ambushed by 20 Soviet NKVD soldiers deployed about 300 meters inside territory claimed by Japan. After suffering several casualties, the Japanese patrol withdrew and was reinforced with 100 men, who then drove off the Soviets. Fighting resumed later that day when the NKVD brought reinforcements. By nightfall, the fighting had ceased and both sides had pulled back. The Soviets agreed to return the bodies of two Japanese soldiers who had died in the fighting, a development viewed by the Japanese government as encouraging. In early April 1936, three Japanese soldiers were killed near Suifenho in another minor affray. This incident was notable because the Soviets again returned the bodies of the fallen servicemen. In June 1937, the Kanchazu Island incident occurred on the Amur River along the Soviet–Manchukuo border. Three Soviet gunboats crossed the river's center line, disembarked troops, and occupied Kanchazu Island. Japanese forces from the IJA 1st Division, equipped with two horse-drawn 37 mm artillery pieces, quickly established improvised firing positions and loaded their guns with both high-explosive and armor-piercing shells. They shelled the Soviet vessels, sinking the lead gunboat, crippling the second, and driving off the third. Japanese troops subsequently fired on the swimming crewmen from the sunken ships using machine guns. Thirty-seven Soviet soldiers were killed, while Japanese casualties were zero. The Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs protested and demanded the Soviet forces withdraw from the island. The Soviet leadership, apparently shocked by the incident and reluctant to escalate, agreed to evacuate their troops. By 1938 the border situation had deteriorated. The tangled terrain features, mountain, bog, stream, forest, and valley, would have complicated even careful observers' discernment of the old red line drawn in 1886. Fifty years later, the markers themselves had undergone a metamorphosis. Japanese investigators could find, at most, only 14 to 17 markers standing fairly intact between the Tumen estuary and Khanka—roughly one every 25 miles at best. The remainder were missing or ruined; five were found in new locations. Marker "K," for example, was 40 meters deeper inside Manchuria, away from Khanka. Japanese military experts noted that of the 20 markers originally set along the boundaries of Hunchun Prefecture alone, only four could be found by the summer of 1938. The rest had either been wrecked or arbitrarily moved and discarded by Russian or Chinese officials and inhabitants. It is even said that one missing marker could be seen on display in Khabarovsk. The Chinese had generally interpreted the boundary as the road line just west of Khasan, at least in practice. Free road movement, however, had become a problem even 20 years before the Japanese overran Manchuria in 1931–1932 during the so-called Manchurian Incident. The Japanese adopted, or inherited, the Chinese interpretation, which was based on the 1886 agreement on border roads; the key clause held that the frontier west of Khasan would be the road along the lake. Japanese sources emphasize that local residents' anger toward gradual Soviet oppression and penetrations westward into Manchurian territory fueled the conflict. Many natives believed the original boundaries lay east of the lake, but the Soviets adjusted the situation to suit their own convenience. In practice, the Russians were restricting road use just west of Khasan by Manchurian and Korean residents. There was speculation that this was a prelude to taking over the ridgelines, depending on the reaction of the Manchukuoan–Japanese side. Villagers who went to streams or the lake to launder clothing found themselves subjected to sniper fire. Along a 25-mile stretch of road near Shachaofeng, farmers reported coming under fire from new Soviet positions as early as November 1935. Nevertheless, Japanese and Koreans familiar with the Tumen area noted agrarian, seasonal Korean religious rites atop Changkufeng Hill, including fattened pigs sacrificed and changgo drums beaten. Village elders told Japanese visitors in 1938 that, until early the preceding year, no Russians had come as far as Changkufeng Hill. Looking only at the border sector around Changkufeng, the easy days were clearly behind us. In the summer of 1938, Gaimusho "Foreign Ministry" observers described the explosive situation along the Korea–Manchuria–USSR borders as a matter of de facto frontiers. Both sides pressed against each other, and their trigger-happy posture was summed up in the colloquial refrain: "Take another step and we'll let you have it." Near dawn on 13 June 1938, a Manchurian patrol detected a suspicious figure in the fog swirling over Changlingtzu Hill on the Siberian–Manchurian frontier. Challenged at 15 feet, the suspect hurled two pistols to the ground and raised his hands in surrender. At headquarters, the police soon realized this was no routine border-trespassing case. The man was a defector and he was a Russian general, in fact he was the director of all NKVD forces in the Soviet Far East. Beneath a mufti of spring coat and hunting cap, he wore a full uniform with medals. His identification card No. 83 designated him as G. S. Lyushkov, Commissar 3rd Class, countersigned by Nikolai Yezhov, NKVD head in Moscow. Lyushkov was promptly turned over to the Japanese military authorities, who transferred him to Seoul and then to Tokyo under close escort. On 1 July, the Japanese press was permitted to disclose that Lyushkov had sought refuge in Japan. Ten days later, to capitalize on the commissar's notoriety and to confound skeptics, the Japanese produced Lyushkov at a press conference in Tokyo. For the Japanese and foreign correspondents, who met separately with him, Lyushkov described Soviet Far East strength and the turmoil wracking the USSR, because for those of you unfamiliar this was during the Stalinist purges. Clearly, the Japanese had gained a unique reservoir of high-level intelligence and a wealth of materials, including notes scratched in blood by suspects incarcerated at Khabarovsk. A general tightening of Russian frontier security had recently been reported. Natives of Fangchuanting asserted that a Soviet cavalry patrol appeared in June, seemingly for the first time. Contact with Yangkuanping, northwest of Khasan, was severed. More importantly, Japanese Army Signal Corps intelligence detected a surge of Soviet message traffic from the Posyet Bay district. After Lyushkov's defection, a drastic reshuffle in the local Russian command apparently occurred, and responsibility for border surveillance seems to have been reallocated. Japanese records indicate that the Novokievsk security force commander was relieved and the sector garrison replaced by troops from Vladivostok. Gaimusho intelligence also received reports that a border garrison unit had been transferred from Khabarovsk or Chita to the Tumen sector. The Kwantung Army signal monitors also intercepted two significant frontline messages on 6 July from the new Russian local commander in the Posyet region, addressed to Lieutenant General Sokolov in Khabarovsk. Decoded, the messages suggested (1) that ammunition for infantry mortars amounted to less than half the required supply; and  (2) a recommendation that higher headquarters authorize Russian elements to secure certain unoccupied high ground west of Khasan.  The commander noted terrain advantages and the contemplated construction of emplacements that would command Najin and the Korean railway. As a start, at least one Russian platoon should be authorized to dig in on the highest ground (presumably Changkufeng) and deploy four tons of entanglements to stake out the Soviet claim. Korea Army Headquarters received a telegram from the Kwantung Army on 7 July conveying the deciphered messages. On the same day, the 19th Division in North Korea telephoned Seoul that, on 6 July, three or four Soviet horsemen had been observed reconnoitering Manchurian territory from atop a hill called Changkufeng. The alarming intelligence from the Kwantung Army and the front warranted immediate attention by the Korea Army. Some Kwantung Army officers doubted the significance of the developments, with one intelligence official even suggesting the Russian messages might be a deliberate ploy designed to entrap the Japanese at Changkufeng. On 7–8 July, all staff officers in Seoul convened at army headquarters. The name of Changkufeng Hill was not well known, but maps and other data suggested that neither the Japanese nor the Russians had previously stationed border units in the ridge complex west of Khasan. As early as March 1936, Army Commander Koiso Kuniaki had distributed maps to subordinate units, indicating which sectors were in dispute. No patrol was to enter zones lacking definitive demarcation. Until then, the only Japanese element east of the Tumen was a Manchurian policeman at Fangchuanting. Ownership of the high ground emerged as an early issue. A number of other points were raised by  the Kwantung Army: At present, Soviet elements in the area were negligible. The intrusion must not be overlooked. The Russians could be expected to exploit any weakness, and half-measures would not suffice, especially regarding the Japanese defense mission along a 125-mile frontier. In Japanese hands, Changkufeng Hill would be useful, but two excellent observation posts already existed in the neighboring sector of the Manchurian tongue. With dissidence and purges underway, the Russians may have judged it necessary to seal border gaps, particularly after Lyushkov's defection. They may also have sought to control Changkufeng to offset Japanese dominance of the high ground to the north. Soviet seizure of Changkufeng would upset the delicate status quo and could provoke a contest for equivalent observation posts. In broader terms, it mattered little whether the Russians sought a permanent observation post on Changkufeng Hill, which was of relatively minor strategic value. Japan's primary concern lay in the China theater; Changkufeng was peripheral. The Japanese should not expend limited resources or become distracted. The matter required consultation with the high command in Tokyo. In the absence of more comprehensive intelligence, the assembled staff officers concluded that the Korea Army should, at a minimum, ignore or disregard Soviet actions for the time being, while maintaining vigilant observation of the area. The consensus was communicated to Major General Kitano Kenzo, the Korea Army chief of staff, who concurred, and to Koiso. Upon learning that the recommendation advocated a low posture, Koiso inquired only whether the opinion reflected the unanimous view of the staff. Having been assured that it did, he approved the policy. Koiso, then 58, was at the threshold of the routine personnel changes occurring around 15 July. He had just been informed that he would retire and that General Nakamura Kotaro would succeed him. Those acquainted with Koiso perceived him as treating the border difficulties as a minor anticlimax in the course of his command tour. He appeared unemphatic or relaxed as he prepared to depart from a post he had held for twenty-one years. Although neither Koiso nor his staff welcomed the Soviet activities that appeared under way, his reaction likely reflected a reluctance to make decisions that could constrain his soon-to-arrive successor. On 8 July Koiso authorized the dispatch of warnings to the 19th Division at Nanam, to the Hunchun garrison, and to the intelligence branch at Hunchun. These units were instructed to exercise maximum precautions and to tighten frontier security north of Shuiliufeng. In response to the initial appearance of Soviet horsemen at Changkufeng, the Kucheng Border Garrison Unit of the 76th Infantry Regiment maintained close surveillance across the Tumen. By about noon on 9 July, patrols detected approximately a dozen Russian troops commencing construction atop Changkufeng. Between 11 and 13 July, the number of soldiers on the slopes increased to forty; there were also thirty horses and eleven camouflaged tents. Operating in shifts on the western side, thirty meters from the crest, the Russians erected barbed wire and firing trenches; fifty meters forward, they excavated observation trenches. In addition to existing telephone lines between Changkufeng, Lake Khasan, and Kozando, the Russians installed a portable telephone net. Logistical support was provided by three boats on the lake. Approximately twenty kilometers to the east, well within Soviet territory, large forces were being mobilized, and steamship traffic into Posyet Bay intensified. Upon learning of the "intrusion" at Changkufeng on 9 July, Lt. General Suetaka Kamezo, the commander of the 19th Division, dispatched staff officers to the front and prepared to send elements to reinforce border units.  The special significance of Suetaka and his division stemmed from a series of unusual circumstances. Chientao Province, the same zone into which Lyushkov had fled and the sector where Soviet horsemen had appeared, fell within Manchukuo geographically and administratively. Yet, in terms of defense, the configuration of the frontier, the terrain, and the transportation network more closely connected the region with North Korea than with southeastern Manchuria. Approximately 80% of the population was of Korean origin, which implied Japanese rather than Manchukuoan allegiance. Consequently, the Korea Army had been made operationally responsible for the defense of Chientao and controlled not only the three-battalion garrison at Hunchun but also the intelligence detachment located there. In the event of war, the Korea Army's mission was defined as mobilization and execution of subsidiary operational tasks against the USSR, under the control and in support of the Kwantung Army.  The Korea Army ordinarily possessed two infantry divisions, the 19th in North Korea and the 20th stationed at Seoul, but the 20th Division had already departed for China, leaving only the 20th Depot Division in the capital. Beyond sparse ground units, devoid of armor and with weak heavy artillery, there were only two air regiments in Korea, the nearest being the unit at Hoeryong. The Korea Army was designed to maintain public security within Korea as well as fulfill minimal defensive responsibilities. Such an army did not require a full-time operations officer, and none was maintained. When needed, as in mid-1938, the task fell to the senior staff officer, in this case Colonel Iwasaki Tamio. In peacetime, training constituted the primary focus.  Thus, the 19th Division was entrusted with defending northeastern Korea. Its commander, Suetaka, a seasoned infantryman, resented the fact that his elite force had never engaged in combat in China. He intensified training with zeal, emphasizing strict discipline, bravery, aggressiveness, and thorough preparation. Japanese veterans characterized him as severe, bullish, short-tempered, hot-blooded, highly strung, unbending, and stubborn. Nonetheless, there was widespread respect for his realistic training program, maintained under firm, even violent, personal supervision. His men regarded Suetaka as a professional, a modern samurai who forged the division into superb condition. Privately, he was reputed for sensitivity and warmth; a Japanese phrase "yakamashii oyaji" captures the dual sense of stern father and martinet in his character. At the outset, however, Suetaka displayed little aggression. Although not widely known, he did not welcome the orders from army headquarters to deploy to the Tumen. Until late July, he remained somewhat opposed to the notion of dislodging the Soviets from the crest, a proposition arising from neither the division staff nor, initially, Suetaka himself. Colonel Sato noted that, for a week after reports of Soviet excavation at Changkufeng, the division's response was limited to preparations for a possible emergency, as they perceived the matter as a local issue best settled through diplomacy. Korea Army officers acknowledged that, around the time the Soviets consolidated their outpost strength at Changkufeng, an informal and personal telegram arrived in Seoul from a Kwantung Army Intelligence field-grade officer who specialized in Soviet affairs. If the Korea Army hesitated, the Kwantung Army would be obliged to eject the Russians; the matter could not be ignored. While the telegram did not demand a reply and struck several officers as presumptuous and implausible, the message was promptly shown to Koiso. Koiso was driven to immediate action, he wired Tokyo asserting that only the Korea Army could and would handle the incident. One staff officer recalled "We felt we had to act, out of a sense of responsibility. But we resented the Kwantung Army's interference." The Korea Army staff convened shortly after receipt of the unofficial telegram from Hsinking. Based on the latest intelligence from the division dated 13 July, the officers prepared an assessment for submission to the army commander. The hypotheses were distilled into three scenarios: The USSR, or the Far East authorities, desires hostilities. Conclusion: Slightly possible. The USSR seeks to restrain Japan on the eve of the pivotal operations in China: the major Japanese offensive to seize Hankow. Conclusion: Highly probable. The Posyet district commander is new in his post; by occupying the Changkufeng ridges, he would demonstrate loyalty, impress superiors, and seek glory. Conclusion: Possible. Late on 13 July or early on 14 July, Koiso approved the dispatch of a message to the vice minister of war, and the Kwantung Army chief of staff:  "Lake Khasan area lies in troublesome sector USSR has been claiming . . . in accordance with treaties [said Secret Message No. 913], but we interpret it to be Manchukuoan territory, evident even from maps published by Soviet side. Russian actions are patently illegal, but, considering that area does not exert major or immediate influence on operations [Japan] is intending and that China Incident is in full swing, we are not going to conduct counterattack measures immediately. This army is thinking of reasoning with Soviets and requesting pullback, directly on spot. . . . In case Russians do not accede in long run, we have intention to drive Soviet soldiers out of area east of Khasan firmly by use of force."  The message concluded with a request that the Tokyo authorities lodge a formal protest with the USSR, on behalf of Manchukuo and Japan, and guide matters so that the Russians would withdraw quickly. Dominant in Japanese high command thinking in 1938 was the China theater; the Changkufeng episode constituted a mere digression. A sequence of Japanese tactical victories had preceded the summer: Tsingtao fell in January; the Yellow River was reached in March; a "reformed government of the Republic of China" was installed at Nanking several weeks later; Amoy fell in early May; Suchow fell on the 20th. With these gains, northern and central fronts could be linked by the Japanese. Yet Chinese resistance persisted, and while public statements anticipated imminent Chinese dissension, private admissions acknowledged that the partial effects of Suchow's fall were ominous: control might pass from Chiang Kai-shek to the Communists, Chinese defiance might intensify, and Soviet involvement could ensue. A Hankow drive appeared desirable to symbolize the conclusion of the military phase of hostilities. The Japanese and their adversaries were in accord regarding the importance of the summer and autumn campaigns. Even after Suchow's fall, the government discouraged public insinuations that enemy resistance was collapsing; when Chiang addressed the nation on the first anniversary of hostilities, Premier Konoe prophetically proclaimed, "The war has just begun." Colonel Inada Masazum served as the Army General Staff's principal figure for the Changkufeng affair, occupying the position of chief of the 2nd Operations Section within the Operations Bureau in March 1938. A distinguished graduate of the Military Academy, Inada completed the War College program and held a combination of line, instructional, and staff assignments at the War College, the Army General Staff, and the War Ministry. He was recognized as a sharp, highly capable, and driveful personality, though some regarded him as enigmatic. Following the capture of Suchow, Imperial General Headquarters on 18 June ordered field forces to undertake operational preparations for a drive to seize the Wuhan complex. Inada favored a decisive move aimed at achieving a rapid political settlement. He acknowledged that Soviet intervention in 1938, during Japan's involvement in China, would have been critical. Although Japanese forces could still defeat the Chinese, an overextended Japanese Army might be fatally compromised against the Russians. Soviet assistance to China was already pronouncedly unwelcome. The Soviets were reported to possess roughly 20 rifle divisions, four to five cavalry divisions, 1,500 tanks, and 1,560 aircraft, including 300 bombers with a range of approximately 3,000 kilometers, enabling reach from Vladivostok to Tokyo. Soviet manpower in Siberia was likely near 370,000. In response, Japanese central authorities stressed a no-trouble policy toward the USSR while seeking to "wall off" the border and bolster the Kwantung Army as quickly as possible. Nevertheless, the envisaged correction of the strategic imbalance could not occur before 1943, given shortages in ammunition, manpower, and materiel across existing theaters in China. By the end of 1937 Japan had committed 16 of its 24 divisions to China, bringing the standing force to roughly 700,000. Army General Staff planners reallocated three ground divisions, intended for a northern contingency, from north to central China, even as the Kwantung Army operated from a less favorable posture. Attitudes toward the northern problem varied within senior military circles. While concern persisted, it was not universal. As campaigns in China widened, planning at the high command level deteriorated, propagating confusion and anxiety to field armies in China. The Japanese Navy suspected that the Army general staff was invoking the USSR as a pretext for broader strategic aims—namely, to provoke a more consequential confrontation with the USSR while the Navy contended with its own strategic rivalries with the Army, centered on the United States and Britain. Army leaders, however, denied aggressive intent against the USSR at that time. The Hankow plan encountered substantial internal opposition at high levels. Private assessments among army planners suggested that a two-front war would be premature given operational readiness and troop strength. Not only were new War Ministry officials cautious, but many high-ranking Army general staff officers and court circles shared doubts.  Aggressive tendencies, influenced by subordinates and the Kwantung Army, were evident in Inada, who repeatedly pressed Tada Shun, the deputy army chief of staff, to endorse the Wuhan drive as both necessary and feasible, arguing that the USSR would gain from Japan's weakening without incurring substantial losses. Inada contended that Stalin was rational and that time favored the USSR in the Far East, where industrial buildup and military modernization were ongoing. He argued that the Soviet purges impeded opportunistic ventures with Japan. He posited that Nazi Germany posed a growing threat on the western front, and thus the USSR should be avoided by both Japan, due to China and Russia, due to Germany. While most of the army remained engaged in China, Tada did not initially share Inada's views; only after inspecting the Manchurian borders in April 1938 did he finally align with Inada's broader vision, which encompassed both northern and Chinese considerations. During this period, Inada studied daily intelligence from the Kwantung Army, and after Lyushkov's defection in June, reports suggested the Soviets were following their sector commander's recommendations. Russian troops appeared at Changkufeng, seemingly prepared to dig in. Inada recollects his reaction: "That's nice, my chance has come." I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The simmering Soviet–Japanese border clashes centered on Changkufeng Hill near Lake Khanka, set within a broader history of contested frontiers dating to Qing and Tsarist treaties. Japan, prioritizing China, considered Changkufeng peripheral but ready to confront Soviet encroachment; Moscow aimed to consolidate border gains, with high-level war planning overlaying regional skirmishes. Conflict loomed over Manchuria.

Empowering Diversity in Entertainment: A Conversation with Panny WeiIn this episode of the Get Reelisms podcast, host Christine Chen talks with Panny Wei, an entrepreneur, restaurateur, creative professional, and activist in the entertainment industry. The discussion highlights the importance of activism, community building, the challenges faced by Asian Americans in entertainment, and the significance of positive social impact. Panny shares her journey from activism to producing Broadway-bound musicals, emphasizing the need for resilience, a strong mindset, and purposeful networking in fundraising and project development. The episode also touches on the positive influence and mentorship essential for fostering a diverse and inclusive industry. Hosts: Adam Rani (@adamthechase)   & Christine Chen (@cchenmtf) Guest: Panney Wei (http://www.panneywei.com/)Panney Wei is an award-winning motivational speaker, certified hypnotherapist, producer, and lifelong advocate for diversity and empowerment. With roots that trace back to Qing dynasty General Tso Tsung-ttang and Taiwan Senator Albert Liu, she continues her family's legacy of leadership through her work with organizations like NAAAP, PBS SoCal, and Sundance's Asian Pacific Filmmakers Experience. As CEO of See the Way Consulting and host of the See the Way with Panney Wei podcast, she blends wellness, leadership, and creativity—empowering people worldwide to reach their fullest potential. About Christine W Chen:Christine W. Chen is a Taiwanese American filmmaker, Academy member (Short Films Branch), and versatile producer, director, and writer known for bold, character-driven storytelling. Through her production company, Moth to Flame, she has created award-winning short films, features, and branded content—including Erzulie, a feminist swamp thriller that had a limited theatrical run and now streams on major platforms. In addition to her directorial work, Christine is a seasoned DGA 1st Assistant Director and co-author of Get Reelisms and ABCs of Filmmaking, as well as the co-host of the Get Reelisms Podcast.For more information about Christine Chen: christinewchen.com About Adam Rani:Adam Chase Rani is a production designer and set dresser working in the Austin film market, bringing a sharp eye for visual storytelling and practical creativity to every project. During the pandemic, he co-founded the Get Reelisms Podcast with Christine Chen to foster community within the film industry. Together, they've built a platform that blends education, candid conversations, and industry insights to help filmmakers connect, learn, and grow.  For more information go to getreelisms.com For more information on ERZULIE go to: erzuliefilm.com  WEBISODE version of the Podcastgetreelisms.com 00:00 The Importance of Activism in the Arts00:46 Introduction to the Get Reelisms Podcast01:09 Christine Hosts Solo with Special Guest Panny Wei02:11 Panny Wei's Journey and Mission03:40 Challenges and Changes in the Asian American Entertainment Landscape05:53 The Role of Community and Representation09:23 Overcoming Challenges and Building Resilience25:43 Fundraising and Project Development Tips28:44 The Importance of Personal Connection in Projects30:02 Key Qualities for Project Selection32:56 Networking Beyond Your Comfort Zone34:51 Believing in Your Vision Despite Rejection42:11 The Power of Positive Influence and Mentorship45:26 Upcoming Projects and How to Support48:24 Final Thoughts and Farewell Official Get Reelisms PageGet Reelisms Amazon StoreInstagram

This episode we start to get more into the material culture of the period with court fashion, as we look at the court robes that went along with the updated court ranks.  Granted, we only have a few resources, but from those it does seem like we can construct at least a plausible idea of what the court may have looked like at this time. For more discussion, check out the blogpost:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-137   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 137:  Courtly Fashion. In the New Year's ceremony, the court officials lined up in front of the Kiyomihara Palace, arranged by their relative court rank, dressed in their assigned court robes.  The effect was impressive—the rows of officials painting the courtyard like the bands of color in a rainbow, albeit one with only a couple of hues.  The fact that they were all wearing the same style of dress and black, stiffened gauze hats only added to the effect.  The individual officers were all but lost in what was, at least in outward form, a single, homogenous machine of government, just waiting for the command of their monarch to attend to the important matters of state. We are covering the reign of Ohoama no Ohokimi, aka Ama no Nunahara oki no mabito no Sumera no Mikoto, aka Temmu Tennou.  Last episode we went over the changes he had made to the family titles—the kabane—as well as to the courtly rank system.  For the former, he had consolidated the myriad kabane and traditional titles across Yamato into a series of eight—the Yakusa no Kabane.   These were, from highest to lowest: Mabito, Asomi, Sukune, Imiki, Michinoshi, Omi, Muraji, and Inaki.  By the way, you might notice that "Mabito" actually occurs in Ohoama's posthumous name:  Ama no Nunahara oki no mabito, which lends more credence to the idea that that kabane was for those with a special connection to the royal lineage. Besides simplifying and restructuring the kabane, Ohoama also reformed the court rank system.  He divided the Princely ranks into two categories:  Myou, or Bright, and Jou, or Pure.  For the court nobles the categories were:                Shou – Upright                Jiki – Straight                Gon – Diligent                Mu – Earnest                Tsui – Pursue                Shin – Advancement Each category was further divided into four grades (except for the very first princely category, Myou, which was only two).  Each grade was then further divided into large, "dai", or broad, "kou". And this brings us to our topic today. Along with this new rank system, Ohoama's administration also instituted a new set of court sumptuary laws. Some are vague in the record—we can just make assumptions for what is going on based on what we know from later fashion choices.  Others are a little more clear.  We'll take a look at those sumptuary laws, particularly those that were directly associated with the new court rank system, but we'll also look at the clothing styles more generally. To start with, let's talk about what we know about clothing in the archipelago in general.  Unfortunately, fabric doesn't tend to survive very well in the generally acidic soils of the Japanese archipelago.  Cloth tends to break down pretty quickly.  That said, we have fragments here and there and impressions in pottery, so we have some idea that there was some kind of woven fabric from which to make clothing out of. And before I go too far I want to give a shout out to the amazing people at the Kyoto Costume Museum.  They have a tremendous website and I will link to it in the comments.  While there may be some debate over particular interpretations of historical clothing, it is an excellent resource to get a feel for what we know of the fashion of the various periods.  I'll also plug our own website, SengokuDaimyo.com, which has a "Clothing and Accessory" section that, while more geared towards Heian and later periods, may still be of some use in looking up particular terms and getting to know the clothing and outfits. At the farthest reaches of pre-history, we really don't have a lot of information for clothing.  There is evidence of woven goods in the Jomon period, and we have Yayoi burials with bits of cloth here and there, but these are all scraps.  So at best we have some conjecture as to what people were wearing, and possibly some ability to look across the Korean peninsula and see what people had, there. There are scant to no reliable records from early on in Japanese history, and most of those don't really do a great job of describing the clothing.  Even where we do get something, like the Weizhi, one has to wonder given how they tended to crib notes from other entries. There is at least one picture scroll of interest: Portraits of Periodical Offering of Liang, or Liáng -Zhígòngtú.  It is said to have been painted by Xiao Yi in the early 6th century, and while the original no longer exists there is an 11th century copy from the time of the Song Dynasty.  The scroll shows  various ambassadors to the Liang court, including one from Wa.  The Wa ambassador is shown with what appears to be a wide piece of cloth around his hips and legs, tied in front.  His lower legs are covered in what we might call kyahan today: a rather simple wrap around leg from below the knee to the foot.  He has another, blue piece of cloth around his shoulders, almost like a shawl, and it is also tied in front.  Then there is a cloth wrapped and tied around his head. It's hard to know how much of this depiction is accurate and how much the artist was drawing on memory and descriptions from things like the Weizhi or Wei Chronicles, which stated that the Wa people wore wide cloths wrapped around and seamlessly tied As such, it may be more helpful to look at depictions actually from the archipelago: specifically, some of the human-figured haniwa, those clay cylinders and statues that adorned the burial mounds which gave the kofun period its name.  Some of these haniwa are fairly detailed, and we can see ties, collars, and similar features of clothing. These haniwa primarily seem to cluster towards the end of the Kofun period, in the later 6th century, so it is hard to say how much they can be used for earlier periods, though that is exactly what you will typically see for periods where we have little to know evidence.  I'm also not sure how regional certain fashions might have been, and we could very much be suffering from survivorship bias—that is we only know what survived and assume that was everything, or even the majority. Still, it is something. Much of what we see in these figures is some kind of upper garment that has relatively tight sleeves, like a modern shirt or jacket might have, with the front pieces overlapping create a V-shaped neckline.  The garment hem often hangs down to just above the knee, flaring out away from the body, and it's held closed with ties and some kind of belt, possibly leather in some cases, and in others it looks like a tied loop of cloth.  There is evidence of a kind of trouser, with two legs, and we see ties around the knee.  In some cases, they even have small bells hanging from the ties.  Presumably the trousers might have ties up towards the waist, but we cannot see that in the examples we have. We also see individuals who have no evidence of any kind of bifurcated lower garment.  That may indicate an underskirt of some kind, or possibly what's called a "mo"—but it could also be just a simplification for stability, since a haniwa has a cylindrical base anyway.  It is not always obvious when you are looking at a haniwa figure whether it depicts a man or woman: in some cases there are two dots on the chest that seem to make it obvious, but the haniwa do come from different artisans in different regions, so there is a lot of variability. We also see evidence of what seem to be decorative sashes that are worn across the body, though not in all cases.  There are various types of headgear and hairstyles.  Wide-brimmed and domed hats are not uncommon, and we also see combs and elaborate hairstyles depicted.  On some occasions we can even see that they had closed toed shoes.  For accessories, we see haniwa wearing jewelry, including necklaces (worn by both men and women), bracelets, and earrings.  In terms of actual human jewelry, early shell bracelets demonstrate trade routes, and the distinctive magatama, or comma shaped jewel, can be found in the archipelago and on the Korean peninsula, where it is known as "gogok".  Based on lines or even colored pigment on the haniwa, it appears that many of these outfits were actually quite heavily decorated.  Paint on the outfits is sometimes also placed on the face, suggesting that they either painted or tattooed themselves, something mentioned in the Wei Chronicles.  We also have archaeological examples of dyed cloth, so it is interesting that people are often depicted in undyed clothing.  There is one haniwa that I find particularly interesting, because they appear to be wearing more of a round-necked garment, and they have a hat that is reminiscent of the phrygian cap: a conical cap with the top bent forward.  These are traits common to some of the Sogdians and other Persian merchants along the silk road, raising the possibility that it is meant to depict a foreigner, though it is also possible that it was just another local style. If we compare this to the continent, we can see some immediate difference.  In the contemporaneous Sui dynasty, we can see long flowing robes, with large sleeves for men and women.  The shoes often had an upturned placket that appears to have been useful to prevent one from tripping on long, flowing garments.  Many of these outfits were also of the v-neck variety, with two overlapping pieces, though it is often shown held together with a fabric belt that is tied in front.  The hats appear to either be a kind of loose piece of fabric, often described as a turban, wrapped around the head, the ends where it ties together trailing behind, or black lacquered crowns—though there were also some fairly elaborate pieces for the sovereign. As Yamato started to import continental philosophy, governance, and religion, they would also start to pick up on continental fashion.  This seems particularly true as they adopted the continental concept of "cap rank" or "kan-i". Let's go over what we know about this system, from its first mention in the Chronicles up to where we are in Ohoama's reign. As a caveat, there is a lot we don't know about the details of these garments, but we can make some guesses. The first twelve cap-ranks, theoretically established in 603, are somewhat questionable in their historicity, as are so many things related to Shotoku Taishi.  And their names are clearly based on Confucian values:  Virtue, Humanity, Propriety, Faith, Justice, and Wisdom, or Toku, Nin, Rei, Shin, Gi, and Chi.  The five values and then just "Virtue", itself. The existence of this system does seem to be confirmed by the Sui Shu, the Book of Sui, which includes a note in the section on the country of Wa that they used a 12 rank system based on the Confucian values, but those values were given in the traditional Confucian order vice the order given in the Nihon Shoki.   The rank system of the contemporaneous Sui and Tang dynasties was different from these 12 ranks, suggesting that the Yamato system either came from older dynasties—perhaps from works on the Han dynasty or the Northern and Southern Dynasty, periods—or they got it from their neighbors, Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo.  There does seem to be a common thread, though, that court rank was identifiable in one's clothes. As for the caps themselves, what did they look like?  One would assume that the Yamato court just adopted a continental style cap, and yet, which one? It isn't fully described, and there are a number of types of headwear that we see in the various continental courts. Given that, we aren't entirely sure exactly what it looked like, but we do have a couple of sources that we can look at and use to make some assumptions.  These sources l ead us to the idea of a round, colored cap made of fabric, around the brim that was probably the fabric or image prescribed for that rank.  It is also often depicted with a bulbous top, likely for the wearer's hair, and may have been tied to their top knot.     Our main source for this is the Tenjukoku Mandala Embroidery (Tenjukoku-mandara-shuuchou) at Chuuguuji temple, which was a temple built for the mother of Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi.    This embroidery was created in 622, so 19 years after the 12 ranks would have been implemented. It depicts individuals in round-necked jackets that appear to have a part straight down the center.  Beneath the jacket one can see a pleated hem, possibly something like a "hirami", a wrapped skirt that is still found in some ceremonial imperial robes.  It strikes me that this could also be the hem of something like the hanpi, which was kind of like a vest with a pleated lower edge.  Below that we see trousers—hakama—with a red colored hem—at least on one figure that we can see.  He also appears to be wearing a kind of slipper-like shoe. As for the women, there are a few that appear to be in the mandala, but it is hard to say for certain as the embroidery has been damaged over the years. That said, from what we can tell, women probably would have worn something similar to the men in terms of the jacket and the pleated under-skirt, but then, instead of hakama, we see a pleated full-length skirt, or mo.  We also don't have a lot of evidence for them wearing hats or anything like that. The round necked jacket is interesting as it appears to be similar to the hou that was common from northern China across the Silk Road, especially amongst foreigners.  This garment  came to displace the traditional robes of the Tang court and would become the basis for much of the court clothing from that period, onwards.  The round necked garment had central panels that overlapped, and small ties or fastenings at either side of the neck to allow for an entirely enclosed neckline.  This was more intricate than just two, straight collars, and so may have taken time to adopt, fully. The next change to the cap-rank system was made in 647, two years into the Taika Reform.  The ranks then were more directly named for the caps, or crowns—kanmuri—and their materials and colors.  The ranks translate to Woven, Embroidered, Purple, Brocade, Blue, Black, and finally "Establish Valor" for the entry level rank. The system gets updated two years later, but only slightly.  We still see a reference to Woven stuff, Embroidery, and Purple, but then the next several ranks change to Flower, Mountain, and Tiger—or possibly Kingfisher.  These were a little more removed from the cap color and material, and may have had something to do with designs that were meant to be embroidered on the cap or on the robes in some way, though that is just speculation based on later Ming and Qing court outfits. Naka no Ohoye then updates it again in 664, but again only a little.  He seems to add back in the "brocade" category, swapping out the "flower", and otherwise just adds extra grades within each category to expand to 26 total rank grades. And that brings us to the reforms of 685, mentioned last episode.  This new system was built around what appear to be moral exhortations—Upright, Straight, Diligent, Earnest, etc.  And that is great and all, but how does that match up with the official robes? What color goes with each rank category?  Fortunately, this time around, the Chronicle lays it out for us pretty clearly. First off we are given the color red for the Princely ranks—not purple as one might have thought.  Specifically, it is "Vermillion Flower", hanezu-iro, which Bentley translates as the color of the "Oriental bush" or salmon.  In the blogpost we'll link to a table of colors that the founder of Sengoku Daimyo, Anthony Bryant, had put together, with some explanation of how to apply it.  I would note that there is often no way to know exactly what a given color was like or what shades were considered an acceptable range.  Everything was hand-dyed, and leaving fabric in the dye a little longer, changing the proportions, or just fading over time could create slightly different variants in the hue, but we think we can get pretty close. From there we have the six "common" ranks for the nobility.  Starting with the first rank, Upright, we have "Dark Purple".  Then we have "Light Purple".  This pattern continues with Dark and Light Green and then Dark and Light Grape or Lilac.  Purple in this case is Murasaki, and green here is specifically Midori, which is more specifically green than the larger category of "Aoi", which covers a spectrum of blue to green.  The grape or lilac is specifically "suou", and based on Bentley's colors it would be a kind of purple or violet. The idea is that the official court outfits for each rank would be the proper color.  And yes, that means if you get promoted in rank, your first paycheck—or rice stipend—is probably going to pay for a new set of official clothes.  Fortunately for the existing court nobles at the time, in the last month of 685, the Queen provided court clothing for 55 Princes and Ministers, so they could all look the part. And the look at court was important.  In fact, several of the edicts from this time focus specifically on who was allowed—or expected—to wear what.  For instance, in the 4th month of 681, they established 92 articles of the law code, and among those were various sumptuary laws—that is to say, laws as to what you could wear.  We are told that they applied to everyone from Princes of the blood down to the common person, and it regulated the wearing of precious metals, pearls, and jewels; the type of fabric one could use, whether purple, brocade, embroidery, or fine silks; and it also regulated woollen carpets, caps, belts, and the colors of various things. And here I'd like to pause and give some brief thought to how this played into the goals of the court, generally, which is to say the goal of creating and establishing this new system of governance in the cultural psyche of the people of the archipelago.  From the continental style palaces, to the temples, and right down to the clothing that people were wearing, this was all orchestrated, consciously or otherwise, to emphasize and even normalize the changes that were being introduced.  When everything around you is conforming to the new rules, it makes it quite easy for others to get on board. The court had surrounded themselves with monumental architecture that was designed along continental models and could best be explained through continental reasoning.  Even if they weren't Confucian or Daoist, those lines of reasoning ran through the various cultural and material changes that they were taking up.  Sure, they put their own stamp on it, but at the same time, when everything is right in front of you, it would become that much harder to deny or push back against it. And when you participated in the important rituals of the state, the clothing itself became a part of the pageantry.  It reinforced the notion that this was something new and different, and yet also emphasized that pushing against it would be going against the majority.  So court uniforms were another arm of the state's propaganda machine, all designed to reinforce the idea that the heavenly sovereign—the Tennou—was the right and just center of political life and deserving of their position.  Getting back to the sumptuary laws and rank based regulations: It is unfortunate that the record in the Nihon Shoki doesn't tell us exactly how things were regulated, only that they were, at least in some cases.  So for anything more we can only make assumptions based on later rules and traditions.  A few things we can see right away, though.  First is the restriction of the color purple.  Much as in Europe and elsewhere in the world, getting a dark purple was something that was not as easy as one might think, and so it tended to be an expensive dye and thus it would be restricted to the upper classes—in this case the princely and ministerial rank, no doubt.  Similarly brocade and fine silks were also expensive items that were likely restricted to people of a particular social station for that reason. The mention of woolen rugs is particularly intriguing.  Bentley translates this as woven mattresses, but I think that woolen rugs makes sense, as we do have examples of woolen "rugs" in Japan in at least the 8th century, stored in the famous Shousouin repository at Toudaiji temple, in Nara.  These are all imported from the continent and are actually made of felt, rather than woven.  As an imported item, out of a material that you could not get in the archipelago, due to a notable lack of sheep, they would have no doubt been expensive. The funny thing is that the carpets in the Shousouin may not have been meant as carpets.  For the most part they are of a similar size and rectangular shape, and one could see how they may have been used as sleeping mattresses or floor coverings.  However, there is some conjecture that they came from the Silk Road and may have been originally meant as felt doors for the tents used by the nomadic steppe peoples.  This is only conjecture, as I do not believe any of these rugs have survived in the lands where they would have been made, but given the size and shape and the modern yurt, it is not hard to see how that may have been the case.  Either way, I tend to trust that this could very well have meant woolen rugs, as Aston and the kanji themselves suggest, though I would understand if there was confusion or if it meant something else as wool was not exactly common in the archipelago at that time or in the centuries following. The last section of the regulations talks about the use of caps and belts.  The caps here were probably of continental origin:  The kanmuri, or official cap of state of the court nobles, or the more relaxed eboshi—though at this time, they were no doubt closely related. In fact, a year later, we have the most specific mention to-date of what people were actually wearing on their heads: there is a mention of men tying up their hair and wearing caps of varnished gauze.  Earlier caps related to the cap rank system are often thought to be something like a simple hemisphere  that was placed upon the head, with a bulbous top where the wearer's hair could be pulled up as in a bun. The kanmuri seems to have evolved from the soft black headcloth that was worn on the continent, which would have tied around the head, leaving two ends hanging down behind.  Hairstyles of the time often meant that men had a small bun or similar gathering of hair towards the back of their head, and tying a cloth around the head gave the effect of a small bump.  This is probably what we see in depictions of the early caps of state.  Sometimes this topknot could be covered with a small crown or other decoration, or wrapped with a cloth, often referred to as a "Tokin" in Japanese.  But over time we see the development of hardened forms to be worn under a hat to provide the appropriate silhouette, whether or not you actually had a topknot (possibly helpful for gentlemen suffering from hair loss).  And then the hat becomes less of a piece of cloth and more just a hat of black, lacquered gauze made on a form, which was much easier to wear.  At this point in the Chronicle, the cap was likely still somewhat malleable, and would made to tie or be pinned to that bun or queue of hair.  This explains the mention of men wearing their hair up.  This pin would become important for several different types of headgear, but ties were also used for those who did not have hair to hold the hat on properly. Two years after the edict on hats, we get another edict on clothing, further suggesting that the court were wearing Tang inspired clothing.  In 685 we see that individuals are given leave to wear their outer robe either open or tied closed. This is a clue that this outer robe might something akin to the round-necked hou that we see in the Tenjukoku Mandala, where the neck seems to close with a small tie or button.  However, we do see some examples, later, of v-necked garments with a tie in the center of the neck, so that may be the reference..  Opening the collar of the formal robes was somewhat akin to loosening a necktie, or unbuttoning the top button of a shirt.  It provided a more relaxed and comfortable feeling.  It could also be a boon in the warm days of summer.  Leaving it closed could create a more formal appearance. The courtiers also had the option of whether or not to wear the "Susotsuki", which Bentley translates as "skirt-band".  I believe this refers to the nai'i, or inner garment.  This would often have a pleated hem—a suso or ran—which would show below the main robe as just a slight hem.  Again, this is something that many would dispense with in the summer, or just when dressing a bit more casually, but it was required at court, as well as making sure that the tassles were tied so that they hung down.  This was the uniform of the court.  We are also told that they would have trousers that could be tied up, which sounds like later sashinuki, though it may have referred to something slightly different.  We are also given some regulations specifically for women, such as the fact that women over 40 years of age were allowed the discretion on whether or not to tie up their hair, as well as whether they would ride horses astride or side-saddle.  Presumably, younger women did not get a choice in the matter.  Female shrine attendants and functionaries were likewise given some leeway with their hairstyles. A year later, in 686, they do seem to have relaxed the hairstyles a bit more: women were allowed to let their hair down to their backs as they had before, so it seems that, for at least a couple of years, women under the age of 40 were expected to wear their hair tied up in one fashion or another. In that same edict, men were then allowed to wear "habakimo".  Aston translates this as "leggings" while Bentley suggests it is a "waist skirt".  There are an example of extant habakimo in the Shousouin, once again, and they appear to be wrappings for the lower leg.  It actually seems very closely related to the "kyahan" depicted all the way back in the 6th century painting of the Wo ambassador to Liang. Even though these edicts give a lot more references to clothing, there is still plenty that is missing.  It isn't like the Chroniclers were giving a red carpet style stitch-by-stitch critique of what was being worn at court.  Fortunately, there is a rather remarkable archaeological discovery from about this time. Takamatsuzuka is a kofun, or ancient burial mound, found in Asuka and dated to the late 7th or early 8th century.  Compared to the keyhole shaped tombs of previous centuries, this tomb is quite simple: a two-tiered circular tomb nestled in the quiet hills.  What makes it remarkable is that the inside of the stone burial chamber was elaborately painted.  There are depictions of the four guardian animals, as well as the sun and the moon, as well as common constellations.  More importantly, though, are the intricate pictures of men and women dressed in elaborate clothing. The burial chamber of Takamatsuzuka is rectangular in shape.  There are images on the four vertical sides as well as on the ceiling.  The chamber is oriented north-south, with genbu, the black tortoise, on the north wall and presumably Suzaku, the vermillion bird, on the south wall—though that had been broken at some point and it is hard to make out exactly what is there. The east and west walls are about three times as long as the north and south walls.  In the center of each is a guardian animal—byakko, the white tiger, on the west wall and seiryuu, the blue—or green—dragon on the east.  All of these images are faded, and since opening of the tomb have faded even more, so while photos can help, it may require a bit more investigation and some extrapolation to understand all of what we are looking at. On the northern side of both the east and west wall we see groups of four women.  We can make out green, yellow, and red or vermillion outer robes with thin fabric belt sashes, or obi, tied loosely and low around the waist.  There is another, lightly colored—possibly white, cream or pink—that is so faded it is hard to make out, and I don't know if that is the original color.  These are v-necked robes, with what appear to be ties at the bottom of the "v".  Around the belt-sash we see a strip of white peaking out from between the two sides of the robe—most likely showing the lining on an edge that has turned back slightly.  The cuffs of the robe are folded back, showing a contrasting color—either the sleeves of an underrobe or a lining of some kind.  Below the outer robe is a white, pleated hem—possibly a hirami or similar, though where we can make it out, it seems to be the same or similar color as the sleeves.  Under all of that, they then have a relatively simple mo, or pleated skirt.  The ones in the foreground are vertically striped in alternating white, green, red, and blue stripes.  There is one that may just be red and blue stripes, but I'm not sure.  In the background we see a dark blue—and possibly a dark green—mo.  At the base of each mo is a pleated fringe that appears to be connected to the bottom of the skirt.  The toe of a shoe seems to peek out from underneath in at least one instance.  They don't have any obvious hair ornaments, and their hair appears to be swept back and tied in such a way that it actually comes back up in the back, slightly.  They appear to be holding fans and something that might be a fly swatter—a pole with what looks like tassels on the end. In comparison, at the southern end of the tomb we have two groups of men.  These are much more damaged and harder to make out clearly.  They have robes of green, yellow, grey, blue, and what looks like dark blue, purple, or even black.  The neckline appears to be a v-necked, but tied closed, similar to what we see on the women.  We also see a contrasting color at the cuff, where it looks like the sleeves have turned back, slightly.  They have belt-sashes similar to the women, made of contrasting fabric to the robe itself.  Below that we see white trousers, or hakama, and shallow, black shoes.  On some of the others it is suggested that maybe they have a kind of woven sandal, but that is hard to make out in the current image.  On their heads are hats or headgear of black, stiffened—probably lacquered—gauze.  They have a bump in the back, which is probably the wearer's hair, and there is evidence of small ties on top and larger ties in the back, hanging down.  Some interpretations also show a couple with chin straps, as well, or at least a black cord that goes down to the chin.  They carry a variety of implements, suggesting they are attendants, with an umbrella, a folding chair, a pouch worn around the neck, a pole or cane of some kind, and a bag with some kind of long thing—possibly a sword or similar. The tomb was originally found by farmers in 1962, but wasn't fully examined until 1970, with an excavation starting in 1972.  The stone at the entryway was broken, probably from graverobbers, who are thought to have looted the tomb in the Kamakura period.  Fortunately, along with the bones of the deceased and a few scattered grave goods that the robbers must have missed, the murals also survived, and somehow they remained largely intact through the centuries.  They have not been entirely safe, and many of the images are damaged or faded, but you can still make out a remarkable amount of detail, which is extremely helpful in determining what clothing might have looked like at this time—assuming it is depicting local individuals. And there is the rub, since we don't know exactly whom the tomb was for.  Furthermore, in style it has been compared with Goguryeo tombs from the peninsula, much as nearby Kitora kofun is.  Kitora had images as well, but just of the guardian animals and the constellations, not of human figures. There are three theories as to who might have been buried at Takamatsuzuka.  One theory is that it was one of Ohoama's sons.  Prince Osakabe is one theory, based on the time of his death and his age.  Others have suggested Prince Takechi.  Based on the teeth of the deceased, they were probably in their 40s to 60s when they passed away. Some scholars believe that it may be a later, Nara period vassal—possibly, Isonokami no Maro.  That would certainly place it later than the Asuka period. The third theory is that it is the tomb of a member of one of the royal families from the Korean peninsula—possibly someone who had taken up refuge in the archipelago as Silla came to dominate the entire peninsula.  This last theory matches with the fact that Takamatsuzuka appears to be similar to tombs found in Goguryeo, though that could just have to do with where the tomb builders were coming from, or what they had learned. That does bring up the question of the figures in the tomb.  Were they contemporary figures, indicating people and dress of the court at the time, or were they meant to depict people from the continent?  Without any other examples, we may never know, but even if was indicative of continental styles, those were the very styles that Yamato was importing, so it may not matter, in the long run.     One other garment that isn't mentioned here is the hire, a scarf that is typically associated with women.  It is unclear if it has any relationship to the sashes we see in the Kofun period, though there is at least one mention of a woman with a hire during one of the campaigns on the Korean peninsula.  Later we see it depicted as a fairly gauzy piece of silk, that is worn somewhat like a shawl.  It is ubiquitous in Sui and Tang paintings of women, indicating a wide-ranging fashion trend.  The hire is a fairly simple piece of clothing, and yet it creates a very distinctive look which we certainly see, later. Finally, I want to take a moment to acknowledge that almost everything we have discussed here has to do with the elites of society—the nobles of the court.  For most people, working the land, we can assume that they were probably not immediately adopting the latest continental fashions, and they probably weren't dressing in silk very much.  Instead, it is likely that they continued to wear some version of the same outfits we see in the haniwa figures of the kofun period.  This goes along with the fact that even as the elite are moving into palaces built to stand well above the ground, we still have evidence of common people building and living in pit dwellings, as they had been for centuries.  This would eventually change, but overall they stuck around for quite some time.  However, farmers and common people are often ignored by various sources—they aren't often written about, they often aren't shown in paintings or statues, and they did often not get specialized burials.  Nonetheless, they were the most populous group in the archipelago, supporting all of the rest. And with that, I think we will stop for now.  Still plenty more to cover this reign.  We are definitely into the more historical period, where we have more faith in the dates—though we should remember that this is also one of the reigns that our sources were specifically designed to prop up, so we can't necessarily take everything without at least a hint of salt and speculation, even if the dates themselves are more likely to be accurate. Until then, if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

This week on Sinica, I chat with Daniel Kurtz-Phelan, editor of Foreign Affairs, about how the journal has both shaped and reflected American discourse on China during a period of dramatic shifts in the relationship. We discuss his deliberate editorial choices to include heterodox voices, the changing nature of the supposed "consensus" on China policy, and what I've called the "vibe shift" in how Americans across the political spectrum think about China. Daniel also reflects on his own intellectual formation, including his work on George Marshall's failed mission to mediate China's Civil War and the cautionary lessons that history holds for today's debates. We explore the challenges of bringing Chinese voices into Foreign Affairs, the balance between driving and reflecting policy debates, and whether we're witnessing a genuine opening of the Overton window on China discussions.7:15 – Foreign Affairs in the era of Iraq and "China's peaceful rise" 12:09 – The Marshall mission and the "Who Lost China?" debate 17:17 – China's changing role and the journal's coverage density 19:43 – The Campbell-Ratner "China Reckoning" and subsequent debates 25:00 – The challenge of including authentic Chinese voices 29:42 – How Chinese leadership perceives and reads Foreign Affairs 32:12 – The "vibe shift" on China across the American political spectrum 35:56 – Cultivating contrarian voices: Van Jackson, Jonathan Czin, and David Kang 40:17 – Avoiding the trap of making everything about U.S.-China competition 43:12 – Diversifying perspectives beyond the Washington-Beijing binary 48:18 – The big questions: American exceptionalism and Chinese identity in a new era 51:42 – The dangers of cutting off U.S.-China scholarly conversations 56:26 – The uses and misuses of historical analogies 58:09 – Spain's Golden Age and late Qing memes as contemporary analogiesPaying it forward: The unsung editorial staff at Foreign AffairsRecommendations: Daniel: Equator.org; The Rise of the Meritocracy by Michael Young; Granta's new India issue; The Party's Interests Come First by Joseph Torigian; The Coming Storm by Odd Arne Westad Kaiser: The Spoils of Time by C.V. WedgwoodSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Ch'en Shu (1660–1736) was a Chinese painter from the Qing dynasty, known for her exquisite flower-and-bird paintings that blended precision with delicate beauty. As one of the few recognized female artists of her time, she mastered traditional painting techniques while incorporating her own refined sense of composition and color. For Further Reading:‘The Mountains are Quiet and the Days Grow Long': The Steady Hand of Ch'en ShuThe Conventional Success of Ch'en ShuChen Shu | Cockatoo | China | Qing dynasty (1644–1911)For the past six years, we've been telling the stories of women you may or may now know– but definitely should. This month, we're bringing back our favorite Womanica episodes from across our back catalog. These are women throughout time and around the world who made their mark. History classes can get a bad rap, and sometimes for good reason. When we were students, we couldn't help wondering... where were all the ladies at? Why were so many incredible stories missing from the typical curriculum? Enter, Womanica. On this Wonder Media Network podcast we explore the lives of inspiring women in history you may not know about, but definitely should.Every weekday, listeners explore the trials, tragedies, and triumphs of groundbreaking women throughout history who have dramatically shaped the world around us. In each 5 minute episode, we'll dive into the story behind one woman listeners may or may not know–but definitely should. These diverse women from across space and time are grouped into easily accessible and engaging monthly themes like Educators, Villains, Indigenous Storytellers, Activists, and many more. Womanica is hosted by WMN co-founder and award-winning journalist Jenny Kaplan. The bite-sized episodes pack painstakingly researched content into fun, entertaining, and addictive daily adventures.Womanica was created by Liz Kaplan and Jenny Kaplan, executive produced by Jenny Kaplan, and produced by Grace Lynch, Maddy Foley, Brittany Martinez, Edie Allard, Carmen Borca-Carrillo, Taylor Williamson, Sara Schleede, Paloma Moreno Jimenez, Luci Jones, Abbey Delk, Adrien Behn, Alyia Yates, Vanessa Handy, Melia Agudelo, and Joia Putnoi. Special thanks to Shira Atkins.Follow Wonder Media Network:WebsiteInstagramTwitter Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The last time we spoke, Ishiwara had been spending considerable amounts of time with the Kwantung Army staff trying to figure out a way to push the envelope on seizing Manchuria. Ishiwara and his like minded colleagues had tried everything to persuade the Imperial Japanese army high command to initiate a course of action, but everytime the message was the same “wait, wait until next year, we can't do this at this time”. In 1931 Ishiwara and Itagaki organized the last major expedition into Northern Manchuria to get the newest recruited Kwantung officers up to speed and ready for plans they had been cooking up. Captain Nakamura Shintaro disappeared on the way back to Port Arthur. The Kwantung officers took the initiative, one could call it “Gekokujo / ruling from below” because without approval, in fact basically against the orders of high command they mobilized their forces outside their designated railway zone and headed for Mukden to quote “get the Chinese military to help investigate the Nakamura disappearance”. When Tokyo HQ got a whiff of this they dispatched a telegram immediately demanding the Kwantung officers get their men back and not use the Nakamura incident as a way of “solving the Manchurian problem”   For Ishiwara this was the last straw. He doubled down and pushed for a plot to provoke military conflict outside of Mukden. As he wrote in almost a messianic Nichiren conviction ‘I will be the pillar of Japan; I will be the eyes of Japan; I will be the great vessel of Japan” . During the last hectic weeks, General Honjo Shigeru arrived to take command of the Kwantung Army and there is no solid evidence Ishiwara and his radical group had disclosed their plans to him. However when everything began to move into motion, Honjo agreed to Ishiwara's military solution for the Manchurian problem.   On september 18th of 1931, a bomb was planted by the Kwantung army upon the south manchurian railway tracks at Liutiaokou. There was an explosion and the Kwantung army immediately claimed it to be a Chinese plot and moved with skill and precision to overrun the Peitaying Barracks. General Honjo's first reaction was hesitation, but then he committed additional units to aid the radicals and upon seeing the chaos unfold, ordered the seizure of all of Mukden in the process. Investigators would find the actions of Honjo over the course of the next few days to be quite indecisive. At first he seemed to be attempting to localize the incident, but then, likely as a result of Ishiwara and Itagaki pressuring him, relented to ordering a general assault on all Chinese positions in the area. Thus what was a isolated incident, transformed into a major offensive, and that major offensive was largely directed by two of Honjo's subordinates, as you may guess Ishiwara and Itagaki.   Now after the bomb explosion, the next 10 days saw southern and central Manchuria suddenly under the control of the Kwantung army. Itagaki as a senior staff officer and full colonel, was technically Ishiwara's superior, but for the next 4 months it appears Ishiwara was the main driver behind the military actions. Itagaki was quote to say to a friend during the offensive “Never mind Honjo, it's Ishiwara's War”. And indeed, being so far from Tokyo HQ's control, it really was Ishiwara's war. Tokyo dispatched official orders on September the 19th opposing the offensive, despite a lot of sympathy for the cause amongst the high commanders. Ishiwara and Inagaki had been planning this for months, they were willing to risk it all, so they disobeyed and carried on. Ishiwara began by first coercing Honjo for reinforcements and freedom to take initiative, as he was quoted asking ‘to pursue actively the security and order of all of Manchuria”.   Now obviously Ishiwara and Itagaki wanted to expand the offensive through the officials means firstmost, but they definitely went around the officials channels as well. One devious method they employed was to create chaos for civilians in Manchurian cities, thus increasing the need for better security for Japanese residents. This would allow the Kwantung army troops to deploy past their set perimeters. Immediately after what is now called “the Mukden incident”, military agents were dispatched to Kirin to create some chaos within the city. Reports of incidents from Kirin began to poor into the Kwantung Army HQ alongside Ishiwara demanding Honjo dispatch forces to Kirin to protect Japanese residents there. He also advocated for demanding reinforcements from the Korea Army, but Honjo was unwilling to go that far. It seems Ishiwara feared missing a golden opportunity and chose another course of action. On the night of the 20th, he gathered together a bunch of younger Kwantung officers such as Itagaki's assistant, Captain Katakura Tadashi and told them “I can't do anything more to budge the commander and so i'm giving up my responsibilities for the direction of operations. Katakura, you take over”. Well it seems this little ploy had the intended effect as all the young officers immediately began pressuring Honjo to support Ishiwara's demands to advance to Kirin, many of them threatening to resign. After several hours of the officers nagging, Honjo related and authorized the despatch of troops.    The operation against Kirin was carried out in lightning fast speed. Ishiwara directed the bulk of the 2nd division led by General Tamon Jiro to rush over to Kirin by rail. They entered the city without firing a single shot and forced the local Chinese commander to proclaim the independence of the province from Zhang Xueliang's regime. Within hours after this, the Korea army responded to a aid request sent out by the Kwantung Army staff on september 21st and began moving into Manchuria. Within only 48 hours the Japanese military had seized Kirin which lay outside the Kwantung operational zone and the Korea army was invading Manchuria without any approval from Tokyo, military discipline thus had been shattered.    Chief of staff Kanaya Hanzo had issued specific orders to limit the scope of the Kwantung army's operations and entrusted discretionary authority to the field commanders for certain emergency situations, usually of a local nature. The Kirin expedition did not exactly fall within any of these boundaries. Bolstered by their success, Ishiwara and Itagaki followed up the Kirin operation by pressing for an advance upon Harbin. As you might recall from the previous episode, the entire idea of taking Manchuria was built upon speed and precision. The Kwantung army had tiny forces compared to the immediate Chinese forces in Manchuria. However here they were blocked by directives sent from Tokyo HQ which forbade the movement of Kwantung troops beyond the south manchuria railway, up to this point they had limited their actions along those margins. Ishiwara attempted arguing something on more political lines. He argued Japan should aid Manchurian independence and sent the idea straight to Tokyo central HQ. In a sharp rebuff on October 3rd, Tokyo HQ affirmed its opposition to expanding the hostilities and rejected the political idea.   With the hard no from Tokyo HQ, the Kwantung radicals thought the only course of action was to cause even more chaos to force the issue. Ishiwara took the lead again, trying to toss Tokyo HQ off balance. Ishiwara personally went out on October the 8th, dressed in military pilot gear and slipped into one of five Chinese aircraft that had been seized at Mukdens airfield. He then personally led a raid, though later in life, such as at the Tokyo War crimes trials he would argue the flight was supposed to be just a reconnaissance of enemy activities at Chinchou. As he asserted, it was only at the last minute, some intelligence sprang up that anti-aircraft guns had been installed at Chinchou and thus the Kwantung army Commander had given permission to neutralize them if fired upon. Ishiwara stated that he and the 4 other aircraft accompanying him were fired upon and thus they dropped around 75 bombs on Chinchou, yes quite the course of events. As you might guess, more contemporary accounts would indicate this was a premeditated effort designed to freak out Tokyo.    The raid against Chinchou did indeed freak out Tokyo, the staff there began to fear the west would begin tossing condemnation upon them. Tokyo high command was in a bad spot. They felt obliged to back up the Kwantung army publically, by issuing post-facto approval of the many chaotic attacks, but internally they were livid. Major Endo Saburo of the intelligence division was sent to Manchuria to investigate the Chinchou situation. Saburo said upon asking Ishiwara what occurred, he responded that he had acted under the principle of field initiative and that was the reason why he never informed Tokyo in advance. Saburo also noted the manner in which he spoke to him indicated that Saburo alongside the intelligence division should mind their own business. Saburo also found out there were murmurs in Manchuria that if Tokyo high command did not get onboard, the Kwantung army was prepared to go it alone. It seemed the radical Kwantung officers would even go against the imperial japanese army command to get what they wanted. Ishiwara went as far as to send this telegram to Tokyo “For the sake of the nation we are doing our very best in Manchuria, but if the Japanese government constantly interferes we cannot complete our great work. Then the Kwantung army will have to come to the point where we will have to break the glorious history of the imperial army and separate ourselves from the empire”.If you thought this was pretty nuts, a rumor also emerged that Ishiwara and Itagaki were going to use an independent Manchuria as a base to perform a coup d'etat against the Japanese government, to overthrow the capitalists strangling the people and to establish a national socialist regime built around the emperor. For those of you who know your 1930's Japanese government by assassination history, you know exactly what this rumor is about, a little something that will occur in 1936. Whether Ishiwara and Itagaki actually intended to do this is unknown, but they certainly put out the word.   On october 18th, war minister Minami Jiro sent a telegram over to the Kwantung army ordering them to cease any and all talk of making Manchuria independent or trying to take control of it. Alongside that, they sent operations section, Colonel Imamura Hitoshi to Manchuria to talk some sense into Ishiwara and Itagaki. They all met at a restaurant in Mukden where Imamura began by explaining the purpose of his mission, but before he could even really begin, Ishiwara blurted out “whats the matter? Doesn't central headquarters have any backbone?” A great way to start a meeting to be sure. Imamura tried to explain the situation, but Ishiwara said “if we follow the spineless Tokyo approach we'll never settle the Manchurian problem”. Imamura replied “we can't accomplish anything by following the arbitrary decision of field elements, which may create a crisis that will shake the whole army. In such a problem it is essential for the whole nation to be unified”. To this Ishiwara apparently said really loudly in the restaurant that he was sleepy, rolled over on the tatami and closed his eyes. Imamura furious haha, get up quickly after denouncing his so called hosts for conducting official IJA business at a restaurant and left. The next day they all met again, where Ishiwara and Itagaki kept speaking about the necessity to create an independent state, since there was no hope of the Chinese reforming Manchuria. After Imamura left that meeting, Ishiwara said to Itagaki “Imamura is a fine fellow, but he doesn't understand China”.   And so despite the chaos and mania, the Kwantung Army had been restrained from pursuing any sustained military action through october. Ishiwara as you would imagine kept arguing they had to advance into northern manchuria. In early november Ishiwara got lucky again, finding a pretext in more destroyed railways. The rail bridges over the Nonni river south of Tsitsihar had allegedly been blown up by hostile Chinese forces. When Japanese engineer units showed up to repair the damaged tracks they were fired upon by Chinese forces. To the high officials in Tokyo it looked like a justifiable reason to take defensive measures. This was also being meet with Kwantung intelligence information being sent to Tokyo that Chinese forces in northern Manchuria were planning a southward offensive. Ishiwara had provided some rather exaggerated reports to the Japanese public to manipulate their opinion through the press which in turn put pressure on Tokyo into supporting an advance into northern manchuria.   Tokyo authorized a defensive operation, limited to time and distance aimed at defending the Japanese positions at the Nonni River bridges. Kwantung army forces began moving north and soon were engaged in heavy fighting around the railway area of Tahsing. Ishiwara personally led men during this, it would actually be the only time in his military career to do so. General Honjo, rightfully feared the Kwantung forces were getting out of hand sent a cabled on November 5th announcing under the “rinsan inmei / provisional mandate”, the general staff was assuming direct command authority in Manchuria. As you can imagine Ishiwara and his like minded Kwantung officer colleagues were livid. Honjo followed this up by stating he would resign if they did not comply, but Ishiwara brushed off the provisional mandate stating “that the directive from the chief of staff is just a personal, not an imperial order. No matter how many we get of those we shouldn't' care. We'll just go ahead with our plans”. On november 17, the Kwantung army began advancing upon the city of Tsitsihar seizing it 2 days later.    Facing yet another terrible situation publicly, the IJA high command allowed the Kwantung to advance upon Tsitsihar, but then uproar started abroad, forcing them to order the city evacuated. Ishiwara then began a huge argument amongst the staff stating the evacuation was unacceptable because of the sacrifices the forces had already made. But Honjo was standing firm. Then a few days later, Chinese forces began to assemble at Chinchou  and there had been some conflicts emerging between Japanese and chinese forces at Tientsin. Well Ishiwara immediately went to work demanding Honjo launch an offensive on Chinchou as a first step of linking their forces closer to Tientsin incase they were overwhelmed. To secure the advance, they also asked the Korea army to help out. Yet again Tokyo was tossed the hot potato. Tokyo high command ordered an immediate cease to the offensive and a withdrawal east of the Liao river. The Kwantung army paused, not so much before of the order, but because the Korea army refused to participate in the offensive against Chinchou, and they were most definitely needed.    Ishiwara faced a dilemma, without the reinforcements the entire offensive might be doomed. And then fatefully, Premier Wakatsuki was outed on December 11th.War Minister Minami and Chief of staff Kanaya, both who tried to moderate the Kwantung army's offensives were replaced by Araki Sadao an aggressive leader of the Kodoha Faction, known in english as “the imperial way faction”. To explain a bit, within the Japanese military there were cliques, kind of like the warlords cliques in many ways. They fought to direct the future operations of the IJA and even IJN to an extent. There were two main ones that influenced the 1930's heavily, the Kodoha and Toseiha (control faction). The Kodoha were not an organized political party, nor did they have an official standing within the IJA, but they were certainly influential. Kodoha members tended to be younger officers in the IJA, particularly those in the Kwantung army. General Sadao Araki was a founder of the faction and they were heavily influenced by Bushido, Fascism and the Kokutai. They sought a return to “the good old days” as one says. They say liberal democracy as a poison hurting Japan. They viewed the capitalists, industrialists and elites of Japan, ie the politicians, bureaucrats and Zaibatsu leaders to be responsible for ruining the once great nation. They wanted to see the Emperor take back full power, in what they would call a “showa restoration”. Their number one enemy, as was viewed by most of the Japanese military at this time, was the USSR and communism as a whole. Thus they were also by proxy in favor of the Hokushin-ron “northern strike policy” which was the Japanese theoretical war plan to invade the USSR. Now I don't want to go to far down the rabbit whole, but due note they were counter balanced by another faction known as the Toseiha faction, who were I guess to put it lightly, more moderate. The Toseiha were headed by Hideki Tojo famously and they opposed the Kodoha faction on a few grounds, one important one being, they did not want to cause a violent revolution to usher in the Emperor dominance. The Toseiha shared a lot of principles with the Kodoha, but they did not favor the Hokushin-ron strategy and instead adopted the Nanshin-ron strategy “southern strike” into southeast asia and the resource rich dutch east indies. It goes without saying the Toseiha faction enjoyed better relations with the IJN. So just to place this story within the political realm we are speaking, these two factions began to compete heavily for dominance 1931 onwards.   With Araki Sadao and some help from Prince Kan'in who was a Kodoha sympathizer things dramatically changed in Tokyo command. All of a sudden, offensive operations against Chinese forces in Manchuria became “bandit suppression” campaigns. The Kwantung army with Tokyo's full backing soon pursued all their military objectives, set out by Ishiwara and Itagaki since September. Chinchou and Shanhaikwan were seized in early January of 1932; Tsitsihar by February and by spring of 1932 Ishiwara argued to the staff they should complete the full seizure of Manchuria both north and south. In April that year he laid out “Manshu haiti heiryaku / the program for pacification of manchuria”. This new plan called for the seizure of Hailar in the north because “it was pivotal to the defense against the USSR”. It also called for seizing Jehol province because “it was an important condition to the independence of Manchuria”. By the end of the year Hailar was taken and in 1933 the Kwantung army was marching upon Jehol.   It goes without saying Ishiwara was central to the conquest of Manchuria. The Kwantung Army and IJA overall had numerous options laid bare to them to solve the Manchurian problem, but Ishiwara's primary concern was total control over Manchuria for its resources, strategic position and to obtain a continental base for a war against America. To Ishiwara, taking all of Manchuria was necessary to prepare for the Final War. Without Ishiwara it is certain there would have been conflict in Manchuria between Japan and China, but would Japan have outright seized the province? Ishiwara spent years planning and pushing the envelope. When the plan was unleashed, it would turn out Ishiwara and his colleagues did not have a concrete timetable for conquest and lacked quite a few contingency plans. Despite the chaotic nature of it all, the conquest of Manchuria was a stunning success. So much so, Ishiwara said to a friend of his, Satomi Kishio in 1932 “Even if Japan has to face the entire world, she can't be beaten”.   Ironically as many of you know, Japan's actions in Manchuria cost her greatly. Japan was now hated by the Chinese, well much more so. The west condemned Japan's actions, alongside the USSR. As my professor first taught me in a class about the Pacific War when I was a wee lad in his early 20's “It all was about Manchuria, everything started with Manchuria, and it ended with Manchuria in 1945”. The Manchuria affair started Japan on an inevitable course to fight the China War, which inturn led her to fight the west. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy. The entire affair also brings into question the subject of military discipline. Many look at the Gekokujo variable as an explanation as to how people like Ishiwara and Itagaki got away with all they did. You know, these militarist hardtype junior officers just ran amok, performed some rebellious acts defying their superiors, forcing their hands to become accomplices. Now don't get me wrong Gekokujo definitely played a hand, particularly when you look at Ishiwara. But it does not take away from the fact there simply was a high level of indiscipline within the Japanese army.   Ishiwara would have been 100% fully aware what his actions might result in, hell the guy before him, Colonel Komoto Daisaku is a great example. Ishiwara spent a long time with Komoto and saw the man's career broken as he was exiled for the Huanggutun incident. But Ishiwara was not only focus on Manchuria, he had a close eye on the political situation in Tokyo. Ishiwara knew the 1931 cabinet was crumbling, he knew certain high officials like Araki Sadao were in fast track position for promotions and their sympathies were with his cause. Ishiwara was betting, certain sympathizers such as Kodoha faction aligned ones would take seats of power necessary to help push his cause. His gamble more than paid off. All the main actors in the Manchurian affair were rewarded for their accomplishments. Ishiwara received the Order of the Golden Kite 3rd class. More importantly he returned to Japan as a rockstar hero, the younger IJA officers were enthralled by him. Ironically Ishiwara had fostered indiscipline within the army more so, that when he went up the ladder becoming a member of the Tokyo staff it would bite him in the ass.   Manchukuo and racial harmony   Now Ishiwara's dream of taking control over Manchuria was almost purely a means to end end: ie to obtain resources and a strategic position to face America. Once Manchuria was under their control, Ishiwara directed his attention towards another goal aside from this, that of racial cooperation among the asian peoples. Manchukuo or rather Ishiwara's view of what it could be was a springboard of his vision for a East-Asian league, something that had a firm basis in his Final War theory. During Ishiwara's tour of duty in Manchuria in 1932, this Pan-Asian idea of what Manchukuo could be is what set him apart from many of his Kwantung Army colleagues, it also marked him to be very unorthodox within the IJA.    Manchukuo as many of you probably know, was a sham puppet state created to legitimize Japan's seizure of Manchuria. The Japanese high command simply sought to use the guise of an indigenous movement for independence to hide the fact the simply invaded a part of China and stole it. To do this they went as far as grabbing the last Qing emperor, Puyi and tossing him upon the throne of the new state of Manchukuo while they tossed up principles of racial harmony. For obvious reasons this was all done. You can't control a region full of a population that rightfully hates you without trying to win them over. Now what the Japanese did have going for them, was there did exist elements in Manchuria who sought independence. This was Manchuria, the heart of Nurhaci's Manchu people, don't get me started on what a Manchu exactly is by the way, listen to the fall and rise of China podcast for that. The Japanese had a lot to work with, it could be seen as a righteous Qing revival, or simply giving power back to the Manchu. There was also a large presence of Mongolians, and yes Inner Mongolia would come into all of this. Manchuria came into the nationalist fold late and not exactly willingly. Also the fear of the USSR was not something Japan had alone, Manchuria had struggled against the USSR for a very long time. There was also of course a large Japanese settler population in Manchuria who obviously welcomed the seizure. The Zhang Xueliang regime was not exactly too too friendly to the Japanese within the borders and a lot of discriminatory measure had been exacted upon them. When Zhang Xueliang had joined the Nationalists this had basically spelt doom upon them, at some point they knew they would be kicked out.   While the offensives were in full swing, Ishiwara and Itagaki met with other influential Kwantung Officers to figure out how they could exert control over Manchuria. Officer Katakura, chief of staff Miyake, Dohihara Kenji of the Mukden special service organ all met, looking over a previous plan created by Colonel Dohihara, for a multi racial autonomous nation of Manchuria. It was to be headed by the last Qing emperor, Puyi and needed to possess complete autonomy in internal matters, but its defense and foreign relations would be entrusted to Japan. Ishiwara drafted the plans by September 22nd and they were telegrammed to Tokyo on October 2nd. Tokyo high command disproved of the objectives, but nonetheless worked with the Kwantung army for 5 months on the creation of a new state based on two major principles: the so-called indigenous movement for Manchurian independence and the administrative planning for the Kwantung army to control it.    The Kwantung army went to work using the traditional structure of Manchuria, local self governing bodies. They bribed, persuaded and threatened as many as they could throughout 1931 carefully cultivating a local autonomy movement against the Kuomintang hardliners. One of the first things they created was “Jichi Shidobu self-government guidance board”, whose organ was responsible for coordinating various regional movements for independence to work with the Kwantung army to, in the words of Miyake “guide Manchuria to self-government”. The head of this board was appointed to the Mukden elder statesmen Yu Ch'ung-han, a man educated in Japan and previous advisor to Zhang Zuolin. His board would consist of 20 Japanese and 10 Manchurian members. Such organs were opened Japanese civilians in Manchuria and they flocked to them to support the so called multiracial political structure, because they could bend it to their own benefit.   The Kwantung army began tossing the slogans “racial harmony, racial equality and the righteous way” around heavily. The Kwantung army control over Manchuria was hashed out easily by establishing Japanese advisors over all organs who held ultimate veto authority, they would be appointed at all levels of government, thus everything was in reality Japanese controlled. Everything was going according to Ishiwara's vision….or was it? You would think so, and Ishiwara was definitely pushing all of this forward, but by 1933 he suddenly became a ferocious critic of the very beast he had helped create. 

节目简介 / Episode Summary / エピソード概要中文： 你有没有想过，宫保鸡丁和麻婆豆腐这两个菜的名字是怎么来的？一个是清朝官员发明的菜，一个是成都大嫂做的豆腐。它们后来都成了世界有名的中餐。这期节目，我们就来聊聊这两个菜名的来历。English: Have you ever wondered where the names Kung Pao Chicken and Mapo Tofu came from? One was created by a Qing-dynasty official, and the other by a woman in Chengdu. Both later became world-famous Chinese dishes. In this episode, I talk about how these two names came to be.日本語： 宮保鶏丁と麻婆豆腐、この二つの料理名はどこから来たのでしょうか。ひとつは清朝の官僚が考えた料理で、もうひとつは成都のおばさんが作った豆腐料理です。どちらも世界で有名な中華料理になりました。今回は、この二つの名前の由来についてお話しします。#中国菜名 #宫保鸡丁 #麻婆豆腐 #中餐历史 #KungPaoChicken #MapoTofu #ChineseFoodStories  #FoodHistory #ChineseCuisine #CulinaryStories #ChinesePodcast#宮保鶏丁 #麻婆豆腐 #料理名の由来 #中華料理の物語发短信给我！ Send me a text!Support the show如果您喜欢我的播客，欢迎通过下方方式表达您的支持。您的支持对我来说是巨大的鼓励。但无论如何，我都很感激有您作为听众。能够每周与您分享几分钟的时光，对我来说是莫大的荣幸。❤️ If you enjoy my podcast, you're welcome to show your support through the options below. Your support means a great deal to me and is a huge source of encouragement. But no matter what, I'm truly grateful to have you as a listener. It's an honor to share a few minutes with you each week!❤️ ☕

Nous sommes le 29 août 1842. C'est à bord d'une canonnière, ces navires fortement armés, que les envoyés du « Fils du Ciel », l'Empereur de Chine, signent, avec la Grande-Bretagne, le traité de Nankin. Par ce traité, l'empire du Milieu s'engage à céder Hong Kong à la Couronne britannique et à ouvrir, au commerce extérieur, cinq de ses ports du sud au sein desquels les sujets la reine Victoria auront désormais droit de résidence. Nous sommes à l'issue de ce que l'on appelle la première Guerre de l'opium. Le traité de Nankin est le premier d'une série qui, en réalité, abolit la souveraineté chinoise en matière commerciale et entame son intégrité territoriale. C'est une humiliation qui va s'aggraver après la Deuxième Guerre de l'opium, moins d'une vingtaine d'années plus tard, dont la résolution va contraindre l'Empire Qing abandonner ses prétentions à la primauté et à intégrer le droit international occidental régissant les relations entre États souverains. Cette période de dépossession, marquée par la multiplication des concessions et la peur du « dépècement » du pays est devenue un récit national essentiel. « N'oubliez pas l'humiliation » est un impératif qui va imprimer l'esprit de reconquête de la pleine souveraineté du pays et l'enjeu principal du nationalisme chinois. En 2019, lors du XIXe Congrès du Parti communiste, Xi Jinping déclare : « Il faut correctement raconter l'histoire de la Chine au monde ». Le président insistant sur « les contributions majeures, du pays, à la civilisation mondiale ». Comment la Chine écrit ou réécrit-elle son histoire ? Avec nous : Victor Louzon, maître de conférences à la faculté des Lettres de Sorbonne-Université. « Comment la Chine écrit son histoire – L'invention d'un destin mondial » ; Tallandier (Texto). Sujets traités : Chine, histoire, Hong Kong, Grande-Bretagne, reine Victoria, opium, Qing , empire, Xi Jinping Merci pour votre écoute Un Jour dans l'Histoire, c'est également en direct tous les jours de la semaine de 13h15 à 14h30 sur www.rtbf.be/lapremiere Retrouvez tous les épisodes d'Un Jour dans l'Histoire sur notre plateforme Auvio.be :https://auvio.rtbf.be/emission/5936 Intéressés par l'histoire ? Vous pourriez également aimer nos autres podcasts : L'Histoire Continue: https://audmns.com/kSbpELwL'heure H : https://audmns.com/YagLLiKEt sa version à écouter en famille : La Mini Heure H https://audmns.com/YagLLiKAinsi que nos séries historiques :Chili, le Pays de mes Histoires : https://audmns.com/XHbnevhD-Day : https://audmns.com/JWRdPYIJoséphine Baker : https://audmns.com/wCfhoEwLa folle histoire de l'aviation : https://audmns.com/xAWjyWCLes Jeux Olympiques, l'étonnant miroir de notre Histoire : https://audmns.com/ZEIihzZMarguerite, la Voix d'une Résistante : https://audmns.com/zFDehnENapoléon, le crépuscule de l'Aigle : https://audmns.com/DcdnIUnUn Jour dans le Sport : https://audmns.com/xXlkHMHSous le sable des Pyramides : https://audmns.com/rXfVppvN'oubliez pas de vous y abonner pour ne rien manquer.Et si vous avez apprécié ce podcast, n'hésitez pas à nous donner des étoiles ou des commentaires, cela nous aide à le faire connaître plus largement. Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

In this episode of CAA Conversations, Dr. Yipaer Aierken hosts a conversation with Dr. Rachel Miller an Dr. Mya Dosch exploring the rise of generative AI and how it is reshaping the practice of teaching art and art history—particularly in general education art history courses. As AI tools become more integrated into students' academic and daily lives, educators are being challenged to rethink not only how we teach but also how we define learning, teaching, and pedagogy in higher education. This week's conversation between three California State University professors covers their teaching experiences, pedagogy development processes, and the course assignments designed to reflect on the key question: Why is it important to rethink how we teach in the Age of AI? Yipaer Aierken is an assistant professor of Asian art at California State University, Sacramento, where she teaches courses on the art of Asia, including China, Japan, Korea, India, and Southeast Asia. Professor Aierken is a scholar with an interdisciplinary focus on both art history and religious studies. She employs methods from art history, religious studies, and ethnography in her study of polyethnic artists and scholar-officials of the Yuan and Qing dynasties, including those of Uyghur, Tibetan, Manchu, and Mongol origins. She has published pedagogy lesson plans on Art History Teaching Resources and previously taught at the University of California, Davis, and Arizona State University. In February 2026, Professor Aierken will present papers and chair panels on Asian and Asian diaspora women artists at the CAA Annual Conference. Rachel Miller is an associate professor of art history and chair of the art department at California State University, Sacramento, where she teaches courses on ancient, medieval, Renaissance, and Baroque art, using teaching methods that place European art in a broader global context and decolonize European art's traditional normative position in the canon of art history. Professor Miller has presented papers and workshops on art history pedagogy and organized pedagogy panels at the College Art Association, the Sixteenth Century Society, and the Renaissance Society of America annual conferences. She has written on pedagogy for the Sixteenth Century Journal and Art History Teaching Resources and has a forthcoming essay, co-written with Dr. Mya Dosch, in the edited volume Equity-Enhancing Strategies for the Art History Classroom. Dr. Miller also serves as an editor of Art History Teaching Resources and is on the editorial board of the journal Art History Pedagogy & Practice. Mya Dosch is associate professor of art of the Americas at California State University, Sacramento. Their current research considers commemorations of the 1968 student movement in Mexico City, from monumental sculptures to ephemeral protest interventions. Dosch's work on Mexican prisons, public art, and protest appears in the journal Future Anterior and the anthologies Teachable Monuments and Imágenes en Colectivo. They have also facilitated student-written audio guides for the Crocker Art Museum and are working on a student-developed public art catalog for Sacramento State.

In the first installment of what will be a two-part feature, we'll talk about the transformation of the Forbidden City into the Palace Museum, focusing on China's last emperor Puyi's expulsion in 1924, the Qing imperial family's financial struggles, and the founding of the museum in 1925.

My fellow pro-growth/progress/abundance Up Wingers,For most of history, stagnation — not growth — was the rule. To explain why prosperity so often stalls, economist Carl Benedikt Frey offers a sweeping tour through a millennium of innovation and upheaval, showing how societies either harness — or are undone by — waves of technological change. His message is sobering: an AI revolution is no guarantee of a new age of progress.Today on Faster, Please! — The Podcast, I talk with Frey about why societies midjudge their trajectory and what it takes to reignite lasting growth.Frey is a professor of AI and Work at the Oxford Internet Institute and a fellow of Mansfield College, University of Oxford. He is the director of the Future of Work Programme and Oxford Martin Citi Fellow at the Oxford Martin School.He is the author of several books, including the brand new one, How Progress Ends: Technology, Innovation, and the Fate of Nations.In This Episode* The end of progress? (1:28)* A history of Chinese innovation (8:26)* Global competitive intensity (11:41)* Competitive problems in the US (15:50)* Lagging European progress (22:19)* AI & labor (25:46)Below is a lightly edited transcript of our conversation. The end of progress? (1:28). . . once you exploit a technology, the processes that aid that run into diminishing returns, you have a lot of incumbents, you have some vested interests around established technologies, and you need something new to revive growth.Pethokoukis: Since 2020, we've seen the emergence of generative AI, mRNA vaccines, reusable rockets that have returned America to space, we're seeing this ongoing nuclear renaissance including advanced technologies, maybe even fusion, geothermal, the expansion of solar — there seems to be a lot cooking. Is worrying about the end of progress a bit too preemptive?Frey: Well in a way, it's always a bit too preemptive to worry about the future: You don't know what's going to come. But let me put it this way: If you had told me back in 1995 — and if I was a little bit older then — that computers and the internet would lead to a decade streak of productivity growth and then peter out, I would probably have thought you nuts because it's hard to think about anything that is more consequential. Computers have essentially given people the world's store of knowledge basically in their pockets. The internet has enabled us to connect inventors and scientists around the world. There are few tools that aided the research process more. There should hardly be any technology that has done more to boost scientific discovery, and yet we don't see it.We don't see it in the aggregate productivity statistics, so that petered out after a decade. Research productivity is in decline. Measures of breakthrough innovation is in decline. So it's always good to be optimistic, I guess, and I agree with you that, when you say AI and when you read about many of the things that are happening now, it's very, very exciting, but I remain somewhat skeptical that we are actually going to see that leading to a huge revival of economic growth.I would just be surprised if we don't see any upsurge at all, to be clear, but we do have global productivity stagnation right now. It's not just Europe, it's not just Britain. The US is not doing too well either over the past two decades or so. China's productivity is probably in the negative territory or stagnant, by more optimistic measures, and so we're having a growth problem.If tech progress were inevitable, why have predictions from the '90s, and certainly earlier decades like the '50s and '60s, about transformative breakthroughs and really fast economic growth by now, consistently failed to materialize? How does your thesis account for why those visions of rapid growth and progress have fallen short?I'm not sure if my thesis explains why those expectations didn't materialize, but I'm hopeful that I do provide some framework for thinking about why we've often seen historically rapid growth spurts followed by stagnation and even decline. The story I'm telling is not rocket science, exactly. It's basically built on the simple intuitions that once you exploit a technology, the processes that aid that run into diminishing returns, you have a lot of incumbents, you have some vested interests around established technologies, and you need something new to revive growth.So for example, the Soviet Union actually did reasonably well in terms of economic growth. A lot of it, or most of it, was centered on heavy industry, I should say. So people didn't necessarily see the benefits in their pockets, but the economy grew rapidly for about four decades or so, then growth petered out, and eventually it collapsed. So for exploiting mass-production technologies, the Soviet system worked reasonably well. Soviet bureaucrats could hold factory managers accountable by benchmarking performance across factories.But that became much harder when something new was needed because when something is new, what's the benchmark? How do you benchmark against that? And more broadly, when something is new, you need to explore, and you need to explore often different technological trajectories. So in the Soviet system, if you were an aircraft engineer and you wanted to develop your prototype, you could go to the red arm and ask for funding. If they turned you down, you maybe had two or three other options. If they turned you down, your idea would die with you.Conversely, in the US back in '99, Bessemer Venture declined to invest in Google, which seemed like a bad idea with the benefit of hindsight, but it also illustrates that Google was no safe bet at the time. Yahoo and Alta Vista we're dominating search. You need somebody to invest in order to know if something is going to catch on, and in a more decentralized system, you can have more people taking different bets and you can explore more technological trajectories. That is one of the reasons why the US ended up leading the computer revolutions to which Soviet contributions were basically none.Going back to your question, why didn't those dreams materialize? I think we've made it harder to explore. Part of the reason is protective regulation. Part of the reason is lobbying by incumbents. Part of the reason is, I think, a revolving door between institutions like the US patent office and incumbents where we see in the data that examiners tend to grant large firms some patents that are of low quality and then get lucrative jobs at those places. That's creating barriers to entry. That's not good for new startups and inventors entering the marketplace. I think that is one of the reasons that we haven't seen some of those dreams materialize.A history of Chinese innovation (8:26)So while Chinese bureaucracy enabled scale, Chinese bureaucracy did not really permit much in terms of decentralized exploration, which European fragmentation aided . . .I wonder if your analysis of pre-industrial China, if there's any lessons you can draw about modern China as far as the way in which bad governance can undermine innovation and progress?Pre-industrial China has a long history. China was the technology leader during the Song and Tang dynasties. It had a meritocratic civil service. It was building infrastructure on scales that were unimaginable in Europe at the time, and yet it didn't have an industrial revolution. So while Chinese bureaucracy enabled scale, Chinese bureaucracy did not really permit much in terms of decentralized exploration, which European fragmentation aided, and because there was lots of social status attached to becoming a bureaucrat and passing the civil service examination, if Galileo was born in China, he would probably become a bureaucrat rather than a scientist, and I think that's part of the reason too.But China mostly did well when the state was strong rather than weak. A strong state was underpinned by intensive political competition, and once China had unified and there were fewer peer competitors, you see that the center begins to fade. They struggle to tax local elites in order to keep the peace. People begin to erect monopolies in their local markets and collide with guilds to protect production and their crafts from competition.So during the Qing dynasty, China begins to decline, whereas we see the opposite happening in Europe. European fragmentation aids exploration and innovation, but it doesn't necessarily aid scaling, and so that is something that Europe needs to come to terms with at a later stage when the industrial revolution starts to take off. And even before that, market integration played an important role in terms of undermining the guilds in Europe, and so part of the reason why the guilds persist longer in China is the distance is so much longer between cities and so the guilds are less exposed to competition. In the end, Europe ends up overtaking China, in large part because vested interests are undercut by governments, but also because of investments in things that spur market integration.Global competitive intensity (11:41)Back in the 2000s, people predicted that China would become more like the United States, now it looks like the United States is becoming more like China.This is a great McKinsey kind of way of looking at the world: The notion that what drives innovation is sort of maximum competitive intensity. You were talking about the competitive intensity in both Europe and in China when it was not so centralized. You were talking about the competitive intensity of a fragmented Europe.Do you think that the current level of competitive intensity between the United States and China —and I really wish I could add Europe in there. Plenty of white papers, I know, have been written about Europe's competitive state and its in innovativeness, and I hope those white papers are helpful and someone reads them, but it seems to be that the real competition is between United States and China.Do you not think that that competitive intensity will sort of keep those countries progressing despite any of the barriers that might pop up and that you've already mentioned a little bit? Isn't that a more powerful tailwind than any of the headwinds that you've mentioned?It could be, I think, if people learn the right lessons from history, at least that's a key argument of the book. Right now, what I'm seeing is the United States moving more towards protectionist with protective tariffs. Right now, what I see is a move towards, we could even say crony capitalism with tariff exemptions that some larger firms that are better-connected to the president are able to navigate, but certainly not challengers. You're seeing the United States embracing things like golden shares in Intel, and perhaps even extending that to a range of companies. Back in the 2000s, people predicted that China would become more like the United States, now it looks like the United States is becoming more like China.And China today is having similar problems and on, I would argue, an even greater scale. Growth used to be the key objective in China, and so for local governments, provincial governments competing on such targets, it was fairly easy to benchmark and measure and hold provincial governors accountable, and they would be promoted inside the Communist Party based on meeting growth targets. Now, we have prioritized common prosperity, more national security-oriented concerns.And so in China, most progress has been driven by private firms and foreign-invested firms. State-owned enterprise has generally been a drag on innovation and productivity. What you're seeing, though, as China is shifting more towards political objectives, it's harder to mobilize private enterprise, where the yard sticks are market share and profitability, for political goals. That means that China is increasingly relying more again on state-owned enterprises, which, again, have been a drag on innovation.So, in principle, I agree with you that historically you did see Russian defeat to Napoleon leading to this Stein-Hardenberg Reforms, and the abolishment of Gilded restrictions, and a more competitive marketplace for both goods and ideas. You saw that Russian losses in the Crimean War led to the of abolition of serfdom, and so there are many times in history where defeat, in particular, led to striking reforms, but right now, the competition itself doesn't seem to lead to the kinds of reforms I would've hoped to see in response.Competitive problems in the US (15:50)I think what antitrust does is, at the very least, it provides a tool that means that businesses are thinking twice before engaging in anti-competitive behavior.I certainly wrote enough pieces and talked to enough people over the past decade who have been worried about competition in the United States, and the story went something like this: that you had these big tech companies — Google, and Meta, Facebook and Microsoft — that these were companies were what they would call “forever companies,” that they had such dominance in their core businesses, and they were throwing off so much cash that these were unbeatable companies, and this was going to be bad for America. People who made that argument just could not imagine how any other companies could threaten their dominance. And yet, at the time, I pointed out that it seemed to me that these companies were constantly in fear that they were one technological advance from being in trouble.And then lo and behold, that's exactly what happened. And while in AI, certainly, Google's super important, and Meta Facebook are super important, so are OpenAI, and so is Anthropic, and there are other companies.So the point here, after my little soliloquy, is can we overstate these problems, at least in the United States, when it seems like it is still possible to create a new technology that breaks the apparent stranglehold of these incumbents? Google search does not look quite as solid a business as it did in 2022.Can we overstate the competitive problems of the United States, or is what you're saying more forward-looking, that perhaps we overstated the competitive problems in the past, but now, due to these tariffs, and executives having to travel to the White House and give the president gifts, that that creates a stage for the kind of competitive problems that we should really worry about?I'm very happy to support the notion that technological changes can lead to unpredictable outcomes that incumbents may struggle to predict and respond to. Even if they predict it, they struggle to act upon it because doing so often undermines the existing business model.So if you take Google, where the transformer was actually conceived, the seven people behind it, I think, have since left the company. One of the reasons that they probably didn't launch anything like ChatGPT was probably for the fear of cannibalizing search. So I think the most important mechanisms for dislodging incumbents are dramatic shifts in technology.None of the legacy media companies ended up leading social media. None of the legacy retailers ended up leading e-commerce. None of the automobile leaders are leading in EVs. None of the bicycle companies, which all went into automobile, so many of them, ended up leading. So there is a pattern there.At the same time, I think you do have to worry that there are anti-competitive practices going on that makes it harder, and that are costly. The revolving door between the USPTO and companies is one example of that. We also have a reasonable amount of evidence on killer acquisitions whereby firms buy up a competitor just to shut it down. Those things are happening. I think you need to have tools that allow you to combat that, and I think more broadly, the United States has a long history of fairly vigorous antitrust policy. I think it'd be a hard pressed to suggest that that has been a tremendous drag on American business or American dynamism. So if you don't think, for example, that American antitrust policy has contributed to innovation and dynamism, at the very least, you can't really say either that it's been a huge drag on it.In Japan, for example, in its postwar history, antitrust was extremely lax. In the United States, it was very vigorous, and it was very vigorous throughout the computer revolution as well, which it wasn't at all in Japan. If you take the lawsuit against IBM, for example, you can debate this. To what extent did it force it to unbundle hardware and software, and would Microsoft been the company it is today without that? I think AT&T, it's both the breakup and it's deregulation, as well, but I think by basically all accounts, that was a good idea, particularly at the time when the National Science Foundation released ARPANET into the world.I think what antitrust does is, at the very least, it provides a tool that means that businesses are thinking twice before engaging in anti-competitive behavior. There's always a risk of antitrust being heavily politicized, and that's always been a bad idea, but at the same time, I think having tools on the books that allows you to check monopolies and steer their investments more towards the innovation rather than anti-competitive practices, I think is, broadly speaking, a good thing. I think in the European Union, you often hear that competition policy is a drag on productivity. I think it's the least of Europe's problem.Lagging European progress (22:19)If you take the postwar period, at least Europe catches up in most key industries, and actually lead in some of them. . . but doesn't do the same in digital. The question in my mind is: Why is that?Let's talk about Europe as we sort of finish up. We don't have to write How Progress Ends, it seems like progress has ended, so maybe we want to think about how progress restarts, and is the problem in Europe, is it institutions or is it the revealed preference of Europeans, that they're getting what they want? That they don't value progress and dynamism, that it is a cultural preference that is manifested in institutions? And if that's the case — you can tell me if that's not the case, I kind of feel like it might be the case — how do you restart progress in Europe since it seems to have already ended?The most puzzling thing to me is not that Europe is less dynamic than the United States — that's not very puzzling at all — but that it hasn't even managed to catch up in digital. If you take the postwar period, at least Europe catches up in most key industries, and actually lead in some of them. So in a way, take automobiles, electrical machinery, chemicals, pharmaceuticals, nobody would say that Europe is behind in those industries, or at least not for long. Europe has very robust catchup growth in the post-war period, but doesn't do the same in digital. The question in my mind is: Why is that?I think part of the reason is that the returns to innovation, the returns to scaling in Europe are relatively muted by a fragmented market in services, in particular. The IMF estimates that if you take all trade barriers on services inside the European Union and you add them up, it's something like 110 percent tariffs. Trump Liberation Day tariffs, essentially, imposed within European Union. That means that European firms in digital and in services don't have a harmonized market to scale into, the way the United States and China has. I think that's by far the biggest reason.On top of that, there are well-intentioned regulations like the GDPR that, by any account, has been a drag on innovation, and particularly been harmful for startups, whereas larger firms that find it easier to manage compliance costs have essentially managed to offset those costs by capturing a larger share of the market. I think the AI Act is going in the same direction there, ad so you have more hurdles, you have greater costs of innovating because of those regulatory barriers. And then the return to innovation is more capped by having a smaller, fragmented market.I don't think that culture or European lust for leisure rather than work is the key reason. I think there's some of that, but if you look at the most dynamic places in Europe, it tends to be the Scandinavian countries and, being from Sweden myself, I can tell you that most people you will encounter there are not workaholics.AI & labor (25:46)I think AI at the moment has a real resilience problem. It's very good that things where there's a lot of precedent, it doesn't do very well where precedence is thin.As I finish up, let me ask you: Like a lot of economists who think about technology, you've thought about how AI will affect jobs — given what we've seen in the past few years, would it be your guess that, if we were to look at the labor force participation rates of the United States and other rich countries 10 years from now, that we will look at those employment numbers and think, “Wow, we can really see the impact of AI on those numbers”? Will it be extraordinarily evident, or would it be not as much?Unless there's very significant progress in AI, I don't think so. I think AI at the moment has a real resilience problem. It's very good that things where there's a lot of precedent, it doesn't do very well where precedence is thin. So in most activities where the world is changing, and the world is changing every day, you can't really rely on AI to reliably do work for you.An example of that, most people know of AlphaGo beating the world champion back in 2016. Few people will know that, back in 2023, human amateurs, using standard laptops, exposing the best Go programs to new positions that they would not have encountered in training, actually beat the best Go programs quite easily. So even in a domain where basically the problem is solved, where we already achieved super-human intelligence, you cannot really know how well these tools perform when circumstances change, and I think that that's really a problem. So unless we solve that, I don't think it's going to have an impact that will mean that labor force participation is going to be significantly lower 10 years from now.That said, I do think it's going to have a very significant impact on white collar work, and people's income and sense of status. I think of generative AI, in particular, as a tool that reduces barriers to entry in professional services. I often compare it to what happened with Uber and taxi services. With the arrival of GPS technology, knowing the name of every street in New York City was no longer a particularly valuable skill, and then with a platform matching supply and demand, anybody could essentially get into their car who has a driver's license and top up their incomes on the side. As a result of that, incumbent drivers faced more competition, they took a pay cut of around 10 percent.Obviously, a key difference with professional services is that they're traded. So I think it's very likely that, as generative AI reduces the productivity differential between people in, let's say the US and the Philippines in financial modeling, in paralegal work, in accounting, in a host of professional services, more of those activities will shift abroad, and I think many knowledge workers that had envisioned prosperous careers may feel a sense of loss of status and income as a consequence, and I do think that's quite significant.On sale everywhere The Conservative Futurist: How To Create the Sci-Fi World We Were PromisedFaster, Please! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit fasterplease.substack.com/subscribe

Hello Youtube Members, Patreons and Pacific War week by week listeners. Yes this was intended to be an exclusive episode to join the 29 others over on my Youtube Membership and Patreon, but since we are drawing to the end of the Pacific War week by week series, I felt compelled to make some special episodes to answer some of the bigger questions.   Hey before I begin I just want to thank all of you who have joined the patreon, you guys are awesome. Please let me know what other figures, events or other things you want to hear about in the future and I will try to make it happen.   So as you can see the title of this episode is, Why did the Japanese perform so many Atrocities during the Pacific War. Phewww, its honestly a difficult one to tackle, for there are countless reasons. I had a university professor who taught; ancient and modern Japanese history, history of the Japanese empire and the Pacific War. He actually answered this very question in a single lecture and in many ways I found it to be one of the most illuminating things I ever learnt about the Pacific War. To truly understand the reasons why they did such horrible things, you actually need to learn the general history of Japan, particularly the changes from Tokugawa, to Meiji, to Showa. I am going to do my very best, but I know many of you might be asking “what were the worst things they did?”, not everyone takes a special interest into such a niche part of history. May I recommend for those with strong stomachs “the knights of Bushido” by Edward Russel that covers pretty much all the atrocities of the Asia-Pacific War. For those of you who like darker things, check out Unit 731: Japan's Secret Biological Warfare in World War II by David Wallace and Peter Williams, absolute nightmare fuel.   I can't go through the entire history of Japan, but I think it's important to start off with the first Sino-Japanese War of 1894-1895. This was the first time the Empire of Japan fought a true war with a foreign nation, that being the Qing dynasty. At this point in time, there really emerged a sort of, to be blunt, race war. The Chinese had historically referred to the Japanese as “woren”, a racist term meaning dwarf. Now historically the Japanese had always revered the Chinese, kind of like in the way a little brother looks up to his big brother. In tokugawa Japan they would learn from the Chinese, but as the Meiji restoration began this dramatically changed. Japan watched as the Chinese were humiliating and abused by the western powers and failed to modernize. Meanwhile Japan emulated the best of the west, to modernize and become a great power themselves. In many ways, Japan saw itself become big brother and now China was little brother. The Meiji restoration had an element of nationalism built into it that would explode come the Show era. Japan for its entire history had this belief they were the “Yamato Race” dating back to the 6th century. Now while the Meiji restoration sought to emulate the west, they also emulated racism and propaganda, which in the 19th century was kind of a big deal. The Japanese government gradually began a long term campaign promoting the idea the Japanese, or Yamato people were superior to that of the other asian races. Who was the next big asian boy on the block? China, so it was inevitable they would direct a lot of racist attitudes towards the Chinese. During the first sino-japanese war, the Chinese, particularly Manchu had a habit of performing atrocities upon the Japanese. They would often cut off body parts of Japanese soldiers in grotesque manners and leave them to be found by their comrades. This was honestly a pretty typical thing of war in the region, but it did also have a racist element to it, the Chinese certainly saw the Japanese as lesser people. Just before the battle of Port Arthur, the Japanese found mutilated remains of the comrades, here is a passage from Makio Okabe who was there:   As we entered the town of Port Arthur, we saw the head of a Japanese soldier displayed on a wooden stake. This filled us with rage and a desire to crush any Chinese soldier. Anyone we saw in the town, we killed. The streets were filled with corpses, so many they blocked our way. We killed people in their homes; by and large, there wasn't a single house without from three to six dead. Blood was flowing and the smell was awful. We sent out search parties. We shot some, hacked at others. The Chinese troops just dropped their arms and fled. Firing and slashing, it was unbounded joy. At this time, our artillery troops were at the rear, giving three cheers [banzai] for the emperor.   The Japanese performed a massacre at Port Arthur, butchering perhaps up to 3000 Chinese civilians, some claim 10's of thousands and in full few of western war correspondents. It became a huge controversy that destroyed the image of the IJA internationally and hurt the Japanese governments efforts at riding themselves of unequal treaties with the western powers. The Japanese learnt a hell of a lesson and an Imperial Proclamation was made in 1894 stating that Japanese soldiers should make every effort to win the war without violating international laws. According to Japanese historian Yuki Tanaka, Japanese forces during the First Sino-Japanese War released 1,790 Chinese prisoners without harm, once they signed an agreement not to take up arms against Japan if they were released.   During the next major war the Japanese performed a dramatic 180, well at least to their enemy. During the Russo-Japanese War, over 80,000 Russian POWs were held by the IJA who were treated in accordance with the Hague conventions of 1899. The Japanese paid them for labor, housed them in conventional POW camps, made sure they received good medical treatment, ironically better than the Russians were capable of. The Japanese did all of this, making sure the foreign war correspondents wrote about it. It was a massive PR stunt in many ways. The Japanese were emulating how a world power should act, because they sought to be one. Meanwhile the Japanese swallowed their pride at being called yellow monkeys, as the prevalent Yellow Peril ideology was being pushed by Kaiser Wilhehelm and Tsar Nicholas II heavily. The Japanese treated the entire war like gentlemen and suffered horrific higher casualties than necessary because of it. But something many people don't take much notice of, because the IJA made sure of it, was they horrible treatment of the Chinese during the war.   Now the Russians in Manchuria looted, killed and raped many Chinese, pushed quite a bit by the Yellow Peril. The Chinese, certainly the Honghuzi bandits were working for the Japanese to attack them, so its not like they had no reasons. The IJA was more professional and had orders not to molest the Chinese, as they were helping the war effort, but this did not prevent it. The Japanese also looted, killed and raped Chinese. The Japanese would often wave it off as reprisals against potential spies. I only bring this up as it was very apparent, the Japanese treated the Russians much different than the chinese.   Fast forward to WW1, the Japanese had a battle against the Germans and Austro-Hungarians known in the west as the Siege of Tsingtau. The Japanese took up an identical methodology to the Russo-Japanese war with their approach to the Germans, but even took it a step further. After winning the siege, the Japanese seized nearly 5000 German POW's who were treated with a surreal amount of respect. They were brought back to Japan and housed for the rest of the war in 12 cities around Tokyo and Kumamoto. The POW's enjoyed humane treatment and a rather famous event occurred at the Bando camp where a large orchestra was formed of German POW's who toured the nation performing 100 concerts, lectures and plays. Evidence the Germans were treated well can be seen in the fact 170 prisoners never left Japan and sought wives and lives there. Now is this all a feel good love story, no, just like during the Russo-Japanese War, Japan was playing up the PR, for during WW1 they wanted official recognition as a world power and that of being racially equal to the whites.    Japan was officially recognized as a world power during the treaty of Versailles, but when Japan gave its racial equality proposal, President Woodrow Wilson of the US and Australian Prime Minister Billy Hughes refused to allow it to pass, even though they received majority votes. Now The Japanese had been for a lack of better words, fucked over, during the first sino-japanese war when the triple intervention of France, Germany and Russia stole away their war earning of the Liaodong peninsula. During the Russo-Japanese war, Theodore Roosevelt limited the Japanese war gains and now here after WW1 the Japanese received another humiliation. To the Japanese, it was the last straw and it was a major reason they went to war with the west, who they viewed, and honestly rightfully so, would never see them as equals.   Ompf, lot of history there, but now we come to the Showa era, which was molded by the feelings of the past decades.   In 1937 Japan and China enter an unofficial war that saw one of the worst wartime atrocities in human history, the rape of Nanjing. It began on December 13th of 1937, lasting 6 or so weeks seeing the murder of possibly 300,000 civilians and pows, the mass rape of 20,000 and untold hardship upon the Chinese people. The Japanese followed this up with numerous other massacres in China such as the Changjiao Massacre claiming possibly 30,000 Chinese civilian lives, the Alexandra Hospital Massacre killing 200 patients and medical staff in Hong Kong, the Laha Massacre on Ambon island where 300 members of the Gull force were executed, the Bangka island massacre where 60 Australian and British soldiers and 22 Australian nurses were murdered, the Parit Sulong massacre in Malay where 150 wounded Australian and Indian POW's were executed, the Bataan Death march where negligence and brutality took the lives of 650 Americans and perhaps a possible 18,000 Filipinos, the Manila massacres claiming the lives of perhaps 54,000 filipinos including women and children in the Philippines, the Balikpapan massacre in the dutch east indies taking the lives of 78 Dutch Civilians, I can keep going and going. Where the Japanese went, massacres and horrors occurred.    Again if you really want to delve into these stories check out “the knights of Bushido”.   The Japanese also had the infamous special units like 731, who conducted horrifying experiments on civilians and POWs like vivisectioning live people without anesthesia, testing biological and chemical weapons on live people, the freezing peoples to study frostbite treatment and giving people sexually transmitted diseases to study. Lt General Shiro Ishii's unit 731 deployed plague infested fleas, cholera, bubonic plague and other nasty weapons upon Chinese civilians killing perhaps up to 500,000. This was seen during the battle of Changde and famously during operation Sei-go also known as the Zhejiang-Jiangxi campaign.    The Japanese also enacted the infamous “Sanko Sakusen / three all's policy : kill all, urn all, loot all” in retaliation to the Chinese communists Hundred regiments offensive in December of 1940. Sanctioned by Hirohito personally, it is thought this act resulted in the death of 2.7 million Chinese civilians. According to author Werner Gruhl 8 million Chinese civilian deaths could be attributable to the Japanese.     So then we come back to the big question, why? So now that I've covered the loose history for coherency sake I want to list here the largest reasons for the atrocities and by no means is this official categories or even all of them, I am simply stating kind of my top ones I guess you can say:   Treaties signed or not signed War strategy and indoctrination  Ultra-Nationalism and Racism Surrender & the Bastardization of the Bushido code The Brutality of the Japanese military Treaties signed or not signed   Yes its time to talk about treaties, yawn. Now I said previously Japan did sign the Hague Conventions of 1899 and would ratify them in 1907. The Hague conventions did contain laws for prisoners of war, protection of civilians. Alongside this, in 1894 an imperial proclamation was made stating Japanese soldiers should make every effort to win a war without violating international laws. More significantly Japan “signed” but unlike the majority of other world powers did not ratify the Geneva convention of 1929. Why? To be blunt, the geneva conventions did not really benefit the Japanese military from their point of view.   First the Japanese had a very specific perspective on surrendering, they simply did not do it, so they did not expect many of their soldiers to ever become POW's, so how would it benefit them to ratify such a thing? If they are not going to have many POW's, why would they burden themselves with upholding all the conventional laws for POW's they would obtain during war?  Another glaring reason involved aerial bombing. Many Japanese leaders, like Kanji Ishiwara, believed the home islands would be subjected to massive aerial bombing if a global war broke out. If Japan was subjected to aerial bombing and ratified the geneva convention, this meant they would have to take the pilots who were caught prisoner. The Japanese believed this would encourage further bombing. Lastly the convention had rules for POW treatment that literally contradicted how Japanese soldiers were treated by their own superiors. More about that in the last part about the military's brutality, but summarized, the Japanese army were abusive as hell and to sign such a thing would literally contradict how they did things.   Emperor Hirohito personally ratified a decision to remove certain constraints of the Hague Conventions when it came to the treatment of Chinese POW's in the directive of 5 August 1937. This notification advised staff officers to simply stop using the term "prisoners of war". They would refer to their enemy as bandits, guerillas and such, anything but soldiers so they would not have to take any prisoners, though they typically did not leave anyone alive in China regardless. The Geneva Convention exempted POWs of sergeant rank or higher from manual labor, and stipulated that prisoners performing work should be provided with extra rations and other essentials. The Japanese in the later half of the war would be starved of provisions and resources, thus its to no surprise they could not meet these demands, even if they sought to uphold them. I will note in 1942, Japan indicated they would “follow” the Geneva rules and would observe the Hague Convention of 1907 outlining the laws and customs of war. Yet this is like a verbal confirmation, it had no legal basis, something the Japanese particularly loved to do during the war.   According to Dr. William Skelton III, who produced a document entitled American Ex Prisoners of War for the U.S. Department of Veterans' Affairs, more POWs died at the hands of the Japanese in the Pacific theater and specifically in the Philippines than in any other conflict to date. For example in Germany, POWs died at a rate 1.2%. In the Pacific theater the rate was 37%. In the Philippines, POWs died at a rate of 40%.    Now these pieces of paper that were signed or not signed, what does this really matter when it comes to war, its obvious they were not upholding certain rules, but how did this quote en quote make them more brutal and perform more atrocities? Well here is the sticky thing, if you are part of the Japanese military and you know your nation did not ratify certain rules of war, this meant your enemy had no supposed legal basis to follow said rules against you either.    So I want you to think of two aspects of this. If your nation did not sign or ratify certain treaties, then you could not expect the enemy to respect such rules when it comes to you. But more importantly, what if the leader of your nation…just told you to believe that?    In early 1942, Great Britain, the United States of America and other great powers did officially let the Japanese know that they would, on their  part, observe all the provisions of the Convention and requested reciprocity. Japanese foreign minister at the time, Hideki Tojo gave a formal assurance that although Japan was not bound by the Geneva convention, the Japanese would apply it “mutatis mutandis” towards the Americans, British, Canadians, Australians and New Zealander POW's, note he most definitely did not extend this to the asiatic groups, nor the Dutch whom I guess he just forgot about. But this did morally bind Japan to comply with the convention. However the top brass of the Japanese military, notably Hideki Tojo in these cases, went out of his way to instill beliefs within the military as to what they should expect from the enemy. As you will see in the next points, this was basically a type of indoctrination.   War strategy and indoctrination    The leaders of Japan knew full well how unmatched they were in terms of resources and productivity before they began the war with the west. How could they possibly win the war? The IJN was dead set on a decisive naval battle, but for the IJA to compensate for their lack of resources, they believed their “spirit” would overcome the enemy. In many ways this spirit meant going above and beyond normal human endurance, to literally outperform the allies and notably to conduct the war with absolutely zero mercy. Once Japan lost the initiative in the war, after Guadalcanal, the IJA were forced to fight a war of attrition. Now they would prolong and exact maximum casualties upon the allies hoping to force them to the peace table. The idea was quite simple, the IJA would do everything possible to make the allies believe they would never give up and it would far too costly to defeat them. How does one go about achieving these aims? Well the IJA officers would tell you “by steeling your hearts”. To achieve all of this required extreme indoctrination.    Japanese children grew up in regimentation, they were desensitized to violence through tales of martial glory, and were taught that their purpose in life was to serve the emperor. Upon entering  military service, they were trained out of any individualistic spirit, and taught that compassion was a weakness and had no place in the field of war. The soldier's motto was faith equaled strength.  Faith being devotion to duty and service to the Divine Emperor. Apart from ideology and spiritual toughening, training in the Japanese Imperial Army was also extremely harsh and violent. This was not even particularly a special aspect of Showa Japan, it went all the way back to the Meiji era. From a young age children's education directed them, like a pipeline for military duty.   Now at the offset of the war, Hideki Tojo released the “Senjinkun” “instructions for the battlefield”. This was basically a manual for soldiers on how to conduct war. The document was used to establish standards of behavior for Japanese troops and improve discipline and morale within the Army, it also included things like a prohibition against being taken prisoner. It stated if you were captured by the enemy, because Japan did not sign or ratify certain treaties, you would be killed or tortured by the allies, and if you survived you and your family would face shame back home, and punishment resulting typically in 6 months of prison.   Here is a small excerpt from the document Those who know shame are weak. Always think of [preserving] the honor of your community and be a credit to yourself and your family. Redouble your efforts and respond to their expectations. Never live to experience shame as a prisoner. By dying you will avoid leaving a stain on your honor.   The purpose was basically psychological warfare, against their own army. Those like Hideki Tojo believed Japan could only defeat the resource rich Americans with spirit. Thus the manuals like Senjinkun demanded the forces not ever surrender, because the allies would do horrible things, it was shameful to do so and there were disciplinary actions for any who did. In 1942 the Army amended its criminal code to specify that officers who surrendered soldiers under their command faced at least six months imprisonment, regardless of the circumstances in which the surrender took place. This change attracted little attention, however, as the Senjinkun imposed more severe consequences and had greater moral force.   In a report dated June 1945, the U.S. Office of War Information noted that 84 percent of one group of interrogated Japanese prisoners, many of whom had been injured or unconscious when captured stated that they had expected to be killed or tortured by the Allies if taken prisoner. The OWI analysts described this as being typical, and concluded that fear of the consequences of surrender, “rather than Bushido,” was the motivation for many Japanese battle deaths in hopeless circumstances–as much as, and probably more than, the other two major considerations: fear of disgrace at home, and “the positive desire to die for one's nation, ancestors, and god-emperor.”   Something barely talked about in the west, was during the Pacific War, the Americans had a habit of taking human trophies. Human trophies were Japanese skulls, gold teeth, finger bones and such. The famous novel “With the Old Breed” by Eugene Sledge spoke of his personal accounts of these actions, its a rather gruesome and dark part of the war. Now some of these actions were publicized, despite the US military's efforts to quell and hush it down. Time magazine famously had an iconic photo of a woman whose enlisted boyfriend sent her home a Japanese skull. FDR also famously was given a letter opener carved out of Japanese bones. These stories were seized up greedily by the Japanese government who used them as propaganda to prove to their soldiers what would happen if they were captured. It had a profound effect as you can imagine. And this was not limited to Japanese soldiers. The propaganda machine would contribute at the end of the war to mass civilian suicides on Okinawa and Saipan.   Back to the POW subject. When it came to the treatment of POW's, Hideki Tojo began submitting in May of 1942 a series of memorandum, basic orders as to how POW's should be treated. “Prisoners of war can be used for the enlargement of our production and as military labor, white prisoners of war will be confined successively in Korea, Formosa and Manchuria. Superior technicians and high ranking officers -- Colonels and above -- will be included among the prisoners of war confined in Formosa. Those who are not suitable for use in enlargement of our production will be confined in prisoner of war camps which will be built immediately on the spot.Although the working of prisoner of war officers and warrant officers is forbidden by the Regulations of 1903, the policy of the control authorities is that under the situation of our country where not one person now eats without working they want them to set to work. It is desired that you give proper orders on this.The present situation of affairs in this country does not permit anyone to lie idle doing nothing but eating freely. With that in view, in dealing with prisoners of war, I hope you will see that they may be usefully employed. In Japan, we have our own ideology concerning prisoners of war, which should naturally make their treatment more or less different from that in Europe and America. In dealing with them, you should, of course, observe the various Regulations concerned, aim at an adequate application of them . . . At the same time, you must not allow them to lie idle doing nothing but eating freely for even a single day. Their labor and technical skill should be fully utilized for the replenishment of production, and contribution rendered toward the prosecution of the Greater East Asiatic War for which no effort ought to be spared."   Thus in the end as a grunt in the IJA you were led to believe: if I am captured I will be tortured, killed maybe turned into a letter opener, or someone will place my skull on their mantle. If I surrender and survive and make it back home, I will be severely punished and worst of all me and my family will be shamed. I could not expect any humanity from the enemy, because my nation did not sign or ratify treaties like the Geneva convention. More so, because my armies conduct was so unbelievably barbaric, I could only expect the very same from my enemy. It was a vicious cycle. You perform atrocities, expecting the enemy to do the same, and thus it just keeps perpetuating itself. Ultra-Nationalism and Racism   Now we spoke a little bit about the concept of the Yamato race, the Japanese were indoctrinated to believe they were a superior race and that their emperor was something akin to a living god. Until this war, the Japanese empire was on a hell of a winning streak going all the way back to the Meiji Era. For the first half of the Pacific war, the Japanese won nearly every battle. This led to something historians called “victory disease” that made them become somewhat arrogant and cocky, but it also made them feel “superhuman”. The allies' news reporting at the beginning of the war began to frantically refer to the Japanese as “supermen”or  “super jungle fighters”. Particularly because of the Malay campaign, the Japanese soldier just seemed to be tougher, could survive harsher jungle climates, even doing so with less food or war materials. The Japanese read the allied news reports and came to the conclusion that had been driven down their throats by their government, indeed the Japanese spirit was winning the war. The Japanese public ate this up in their propaganda and it perpetuated their ultra-nationalistic beliefs. The Japanese truly came to believe they were destined to rule the asia-pacific. Look at the results in China for example. Within a short amount of time they conquered much of China, though the public really had no idea how bad the China was bottled down by 1940. Then came the greater east asia co-prosperity sphere propaganda, which is an excellent example of their megalomania.    Yet alongside their ultra-nationalism, seen more strongly perpetuated against other Asian groups, the Japanese also indoctrinated their public with racism against them. The Yellow Peril of the 19th century and anti-japanese or anti-asian racism fueled the Japanese soldiers. The Japanese as a people had faced brutal racist hardships historically at the hands of the west, particularly from their point of view from America. There was the slights against them during the first sino-japanese war, the infamous triple intervention of france, germany and Russia stealing away their prize that was the liaodong peninsula. Then during the Boxer rebellion they faced racism, not being allowed to lead mutli national army formations, despite them being the lionshare of said military force. The Russo-Japanese war saw from their point of view, America stealing their war prizes. Last but not least, after WW1 they were told to their faces that they were a world power, but not racially equal. The Japanese faced anti-Japanese and anti-asian immigration laws when it came to America in the form of the gentleman's agreement and Australia's “great white Australia policy”. During the war, the American propaganda machine began pumping out racist caricatures of Japanese as rats, goggle eyed  bucktooth people, literal yellow monkey's.   For the IJA the pacific war in many was a holy war directed at the arrogant whites who had abused them for so long. This will probably sound controversial, but indeed, the pacific war was very much a race war. If you are not convinced of that, I recommend reading “War without Mercy: Race and Power in the Pacific War” by John Dower. The human trophy taking, anti-japanese bucktooth, rat people cartoon propaganda, history of racial abuse like the japanese concentration camps, the gentleman's agreement, the stealing of victories during the first sino-japanese war, russo-japanese war and ww1 all plagued the mind of a Japanese soldier. To them in many ways, the “whites had it coming”. Which is rather ironic given how the Japanese would treat the other asian racial groups they came into contact with. But such is the contradictory nature of the Imperial Japanese military.    The Japanese also held racist beliefs about the westerners. The Japanese soldiers were taught the allies were akin to demons or beasts. They were described often as “the hairy ones” or “anglo-American demons”. Taught these men would rape women and girls, stample upon the civilians they captured with the treads of their tanks. The marines were especially dreaded.  According to a story circulated widely among the Japanese on Saipan, all Marine Corps recruits were compelled to murder their own parents before being inducted into service. It was said that Japanese soldiers taken prisoner would suffer hideous tortures—their ears, noses, and limbs would be cut off; they would be blinded and castrated; they could also be cooked and fed to dogs. As silly as this may sound, do remember the Americans were taking human trophies so the Japanese propaganda machine had its evidence. Tons of photos of skulls atop american tanks for example were displayed to the Japanese public. Another famous one was the cartoon appearing in an American servicemen's magazine, which was later reproduced and translated in the Japanese press. It suggested the existence of “Japanese hunting licenses, promising open season on the enemy, complete with free ammunition and equipment—with pay!    In terms of how the Japanese exacted their own racism towards their fellow asians. During the War the Japanese dragged into forced labor, Koreans, Chinese and southeast asians. 670,000 Koreans were brought to Japan to work mines and heavy industry, around 60,000 of them died to harsh conditions. Between April 1943 to May 1945, 41,862 Chinese were sent to Japan to work, 2800 died before even reaching the home islands. 6872 died in the work sites again from brutal conditions. When it comes to southeast asian numbers are hard to pinpoint but its safe to say at least 300,000 Javanese, Malay, Burmese, Tamil and other groups were mobilized to construct the Burma-Siam railroad between October 1942 to november 1943 and 60,000 perished. This all went for the men, for the women, all those racial groups would face the horrors of becoming comfort women, historians estimate there could have been 50-200,000 pressed into it. But for the Japanese, believing their were superior to these other asiatic groups, groups whom they would publicly say were like children, they as the father figure would guide, well they simply abused them.   So in a contradictive fashion, the Japanese believed they were superior and could do horrible things to their Asian neighbors while simultaneously decrying the racism cast towards them by western powers as justification for their brutal actions against them. These types of feelings and perspectives molded the mind of the average Japanese soldier, dehumanizing others has always been a standard military practice afterall.    Surrender & the Bastardization of the Bushido code   I think this is one the vast majority of WW2 history buffs know, the Japanese perspective on surrender and the bushido code. In the book “military trials of war criminals in the Netherlands east indies 1946-1949” Fred Borch had this to say about the variable of bushido for the brutality   As Japan continued its modernization in the early 20th century, her armed forces became convinced that success in battle would be assured if Japanese soldiers, sailors, and airmen had the "spirit" of Bushido. ... The result was that the Bushido code of behavior "was inculcated into the Japanese soldier as part of his basic training." Each soldier was indoctrinated to accept that it was the greatest honor to die for the Emperor and it was cowardly to surrender to the enemy. ... Bushido therefore explains why the Japanese soldiers who were stationed in the NEI so mistreated POWs in their custody. Those who had surrendered to the Japanese—regardless of how courageously or honorably they had fought—merited nothing but contempt; they had forfeited all honor and literally deserved nothing. Consequently, when the Japanese murdered POWs by shooting, beheading, and drowning, these acts were excused since they involved the killing of men who had forfeited all rights to be treated with dignity or respect. While civilian internees were certainly in a different category from POWs, it is reasonable to think that there was a "spill-over" effect from the tenets of Bushido.   It is very true, the Japanese soldiers and sailors were taught Japan was a sacred nation. Traditional samurai values of bushido were merged with modern training and weaponry. The government propagandized the figure of the Emperor as a living god who embodied the Japanese state, the Kokutai. Emperor Hirohito and his family were the spiritual essence of Japan. To even show your back to the enemy let alone surrender was deemed cowardly and brought dishonor upon your family. As written by Inouye Jukichi in 1910, something read by many Japanese “The Japanese warriors looked upon it as shame to themselves not to die when their Lord was hard pressed . . . their own shame was the shame upon their parents, their family, their house and their whole clan, and with this idea deeply impressed upon their minds, the Samurai, no matter of what rank, held their lives light as feathers when compared with the weight they attached to the maintenance of a spotless name”.    Young men of Japan were taught that "The greatest honor is to die for the Emperor" Additionally precept the Japanese were taught that it is an ignominy to surrender to the enemy. The combined effect of these two precepts was to inculcate in the Japanese soldier a spirit of contempt for Allied soldiers who surrendered, which, in defiance of the rules of war, was demonstrated in their ill-treatment of prisoners. They made no distinction between the soldier who fought honorably and courageously up to an inevitable surrender, and the soldier who surrendered without a fight. All enemy soldiers who surrendered under any circumstance were to be regarded as being disgraced and entitled to live only by the tolerance of their captors.   Surrender was unforgivable under their code, drilled into them through the Imperial Japanese education system and military. When the Japanese would come across vast swathes of the enemy surrendering, particularly if the enemy used up all their ammunition killing their comrades and then surrendered, well it added fuel to their brutality. One only needs to look at the deaths due to Banzai charges, take for example the incredibly massive one at the battle of Saipan seeing around 4000 dead Japanese. IJA officers brought ancestral katana's to the war, the Japanese cut off the heads of the enemies as it was seen to be honorable. When faced with death, many chose to commit seppuku, the bushido propaganda was intense.    A brutal practice emerged in the Pacific island hopping campaign, whereupon wounded Japanese would pretend to be dead or surrender only to explode grenades upon allied forces coming closer. This began to be noticed by US marines during the battle of Guadalcanal and Australians in New Guinea. This began a vicious cycle . There were of course Japanese who would surrender. Hell the Koreans forced into service often did try to surrender, but they would all be hampered by something. Because of the actions of those Japanese feinted death and taking down allied soldiers with them, the allied soldiers gradually began a practice of not bothering to accept surrender. It became a self fulfilling prophecy. Many Japanese made the allies believe all they could expect was a grenade death, thus the allies became more brutal to them. This simply led the Japanese to conclude their government was accurate about how the allies would treat them, so more and more did not surrender. An absolutely horrible cycle that went on to the very end of the war, though the allies did figure out means to get Japanese to surrender more in the last year.    The Brutality of the Japanese military   I think this is probably one of the most important factors, and its also one the “normies” would not know as much about. The Imperial Japanese military, more so the Army, had what I can only describe as a built in system of abuse. As described to me by the same university professor I keep bringing up in podcasts, picture a literal pecking order. Going from the highest ranked general to the very bottom grunt. Imagine each one who is higher than the other, routinely physically abuses them. For example, it was very typical for a colonel to slap a major across the face, the major would then strike one of his captains, and the abuse would continue through the ranks to the grunts who would have no one to abuse, thus they turned to POW's or civilian populations. This was not just an accepted part of the Japanese Imperial Army it was indoctrinated.    From day one of basic training, IJA officers taught their men, races like the Chinese were their blood enemies and racially inferior. These were people the Japanese would rule over one day. The trainers would toss the boys into rigorous training activities involving physical violence towards another alongside the notion any orders given by a higher ranking officer was infallible and to be treated as if the divine emperor himself, the living god was giving it.    The Japanese army even taught methods of torture that would be employed in all areas they occupied. Among these tortures were the water treatment, burning, electric shocks, the knee spread, suspension, kneeling on sharp instruments and flogging. The Kempetai, were the ones doing the lionshare of these tortures. Other Army and Navy units, however, used the same methods as the Kempetai. Camp guards performed similar methods, local police forces organized by the Kempetai in the occupied territories also applied the same methods of torture. The Kempetai were administered by the War Ministry, trained at specialized schools who were maintained and operated by the War Ministry in Japan. Thus the conduct of Kempetai and the camp guards directly reflected the policy of the War Ministry.    The Japanese army leadership made sure recruits were physically and mentally abused, they were given strenuously duty tasks and pushed to their absolute limit. During the war given where they were deployed, take guadalcanal for example, the Japanese soldiers would be facing starvation as well. Being half starved, beaten and suffering the effects of war would drive anyone to perform horrifying acts. The life of a Japanese solider was simply at the whims of an extremely toxic management culture. The lowest ranking echelons received the lionshare of abuse and they took out their frustration with whomever they could find deemed lower than them, ie: POW's, civilians, etc.   All of these variables combined contributed to the creation of a military willing to perform just about any atrocity they thought necessary to win the war. It was a war they could not hope to win, but many of them went to their deaths trying to defeat the hands of fate. There are countless other reasons of course for the atrocities committed in cold or hot blood. Countless books have been written on this subject, please do check out the few I mentioned. With that again, a big thanks to you patreons, you guys are awesome. Please let me know what you think in the comments, and what you want to hear more about in the future. This has been the pacific war channel over and out.

One of the great heroes of the Song Dynasty, born into the wrong time.Support the show

Piracy in Great Qing surges to a "golden age" during the Qianlong & Jiaqing eras. Corsair Confederations like Zheng Yi Sao's vast-beyond-reckoning Red Flag Fleet, backed by the likes of Vietnam's Tay Son rebels, dominating the South China Sea through organized plunder and shadow economies. Jiaqing's shift to accomodation, while necessary, may expose Qing naval vulnerabilities, paving the way for foreign interventions and imperial decline... Time Period Covered: Prelude: ca. 15th-18th Cs. Main: ~1780-1810 CE Major Sources Cited: Antony, Robert J. Like Froth Floating on the Sea: The World of Pirates and Seafarers in Late Imperial South China. Andrade, Tonio. Lost Colony: The Untold Story of China's First Great Victory over the West. Murray, Dian H. Pirates of the South China Coast, 1790–1810. Perdue, Peter C. China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. Qing Shilu (Veritable Records of the Qing Dynasty). Spence, Jonathan D. The Search for Modern China. Woodside, Alexander. "The Ch'ien-lung Reign" in The Cambridge History of China Vol. 9, Pt. 1: The Ch'ing Empire to 1800. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Last time we spoke about the beginning of the battle of Nanjing. As the relentless tide of war approached Nanjing in December 1937, fear gripped its residents. As atrocities unfolded in the countryside, civilians flocked toward safety zones, desperate for refuge. Under the command of General Tang Shengzhi, the Chinese forces prepared for a fierce defense, determined to hold their ground against the technologically superior invaders. Despite heavy losses and internal strife, hopes flickered among the defenders, fueled by the valor of their troops. Key positions like Old Tiger's Cave became battlegrounds, exemplifying the fierce resistance against the Japanese advance. On December 9, as artillery fire enveloped the city, a battle for the Gate of Enlightenment commenced. Both sides suffered grievously, with the Chinese soldiers fighting to the last, unwilling to yield an inch of their soil. Each assault from Japan met with relentless counterattacks, turning Nanjing into a symbol of perseverance amidst impending doom, as the siege marked a critical chapter in the conflict, foreshadowing the brutal events that would follow.   #167 The Battle of Nanjing Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. By mid-December, the landscape surrounding Nanjing was eerily quiet. The Japanese Army marched through what seemed to be desolate fields and mountains, but they were not truly empty. Civilians were scarce, with most having fled, but a few remained in their homes, hiding in cellars and barns, clinging to the hope that the war would bypass them. Meanwhile, thousands of Chinese soldiers, left behind and unable to keep pace with their units, still posed a significant danger to the Japanese forces. The Japanese Army had not truly conquered the territory east and south of Nanjing; they had merely passed through. Mopping-up operations became a top priority. Soldiers from the 16th Infantry Division, stationed near Purple Mountain, spent early December conducting these missions far from the city's walls. “Chinese stragglers may be hiding in this area, and they must be flushed out. Any small structure of no strategic value to the Japanese Army must be burned!” This command rang out to the division's soldiers as they spread across the countryside around Unicorn Gate. Soon, isolated fires began to illuminate the horizon, one for each home. Soldiers from the 9th Infantry Division, who were not directly engaged in combat south of the Gate of Enlightenment, were also conducting similar mopping-up operations. On December 11 at noon, one squad received orders to investigate a suspicious farm building. Although it had been searched previously, movement inside prompted renewed caution. The Japanese entered carefully, moving from room to room. In the basement, they discovered eight Chinese soldiers who offered no resistance, immediately raising their hands in surrender. Bound together, they were brought outside. Using a few Chinese words supplemented by sign language, the Japanese gathered that the Chinese had been in the vicinity where one of their comrades had been killed days earlier. Unanimously, they decided the prisoners should be executed in front of their comrade's grave. Some of the older soldiers hesitated, reluctant to partake in the killings, leaving it to the younger ones to carry out the order. Soon, eight headless bodies lay sprawled before a solitary Japanese grave.  On the morning of December 11, the first soldiers of the 6th Japanese Infantry Division finally spotted the distant city wall of Nanjing. They had been engaged in fierce combat for nearly two days, attempting to dislodge the tenacious defenders of the Yuhuatai plateau, the elite soldiers of the 88th Division. In a desperate bid to maintain their foothold on Yuhuatai, the 88th Division deployed its reserved 528th Regiment along with a battalion of engineers. Despite their efforts, the regiment's ranks had been depleted, filled with inexperienced recruits, and their leadership nearly obliterated, limiting their effectiveness. Under the relentless assaults from the Japanese forces, their defenses began to falter almost immediately. Faced with the stiff resistance at the Gate of Enlightenment, the Japanese shifted their focus to the Chinese Gate on December 11. Japanese aircraft were summoned for tactical air support, forcing the 88th Division's defenders to retreat behind the wall. This withdrawal occurred swiftly and somewhat chaotically, allowing the Japanese to pursue closely. Before the Chinese could regroup, 300 Japanese soldiers had breached the wall. Only the mobilization of all available forces enabled the Chinese to push the attackers back outside. Meanwhile, the left flank of the 88th Division, stationed east of Chinese Gate, remained outside the wall. Here, they clashed with elements of the 9th Japanese Division but faced intense pressure and were compelled to fall back. By the end of the day, the Chinese division had shortened its defensive line, regrouping in front of the city wall. Plans for a nighttime counterattack were ultimately abandoned, as it became clear that the division's soldiers were too fatigued to mount an effective offensive. Overall, it proved to be a successful day for the Japanese 10th Army. Further south, the Kunisaki Detachment successfully crossed the Yangtze River at Cihu village, beginning their advance toward Pukou. Its special amphibious training made the detachment ideally suited for the operation, but its limited numbers, essentially a reinforced infantry regiment, raised concerns at field headquarters about whether it could accomplish the task alone. Prince Asaka proposed transporting part of the 13th Division across the Yangtze further north to sever the railway connecting Tianjin to Pukou, cutting off a potential retreat route for Chinese forces that had escaped Nanjing.  On December 11, Japanese artillery shells rained down relentlessly, targeting both the interior and exterior of Nanjing's city walls. Administrators of the Safety Zone were alarmed to witness several shells landing perilously close to its southern edge. In a bid to provide some semblance of security, American and foreign flags were raised around the zone's perimeter, though their protective influence against artillery fire from miles away was negligible. The leaders of the Safety Zone faced an unexpected dilemma: how to handle lawbreakers with the city courts now out of operation. That day, they encountered a thief caught in the act. As Rabe noted in his diary “We sentence the thief to death, then pardon him and reduce his punishment to 24 hours in jail, and ultimately, due to the absence of a jail, we simply let him go”. Refugees continued to pour in, with a total of 850 having found shelter at Ginling College. Vautrin and her colleagues began to feel that their initial estimate of 2,700 women and children seeking refuge on the campus was overly optimistic. They were soon proven wrong. On the banks of the Yangtze River, hundreds of injured soldiers and civilians were lining up to be ferried across to Pukou, where trains awaited to transport them further inland and away from danger. Many had been waiting for days without food. While ferries made continuous trips across the river to rescue as many as possible, the process was painfully slow. As of late December 10, approximately 1,500 wounded civilians remained stranded on the south bank of the Yangtze. The Japanese forces were confronted by a fiercely determined enemy composed largely of young soldiers from the Training Division. These soldiers had the advantage of having been stationed near Purple Mountain for several years, making them familiar with the terrain. Additionally, they were part of an elite unit, groomed not just in equipment and training but also instilled with a sense of nationalism rooted in Chiang Kai-shek's ideology. Li Xikai, the commander of the division's 3rd Regiment, had set up his command post directly in the path of the primary Japanese advance, yet his regiment continued to resist. Despite the fierce resistance, the Japanese gradually gained control over the Purple Mountain area. General Nakajima Kesago, commander of the 16th Division, visited an artillery observation post early in the day and was pleased to receive reports that his troops had captured two peaks of Purple Mountain and were poised to take the main peak.  Yet there loomed a problem on Nakajima's right flank. A widening gap was emerging between the 16th Division and the 13th Division, which had advanced along the southern bank of the Yangtze. There was a risk that Chinese forces could escape through this lightly guarded area. The 13th Division was stationed in the strategically important river port city of Zhenjiang, preparing to cross the Yangtze. The Central China Area Army ordered the 13th Division to mobilize three infantry battalions and one artillery battalion. This new formation, known as the Yamada Detachment after its commander, Yamada Senji, was tasked with remaining on the Yangtze's south bank and advancing westward to capture two Chinese fortresses on the river: Mt. Wulong and Mt. Mufu. This redeployment alleviated concerns about the gap, allowing the 16th Division to focus on the city wall. As the sun dipped towards the horizon, one Captain Akao Junzo prepared for what he believed would be his final assault. He had been ordered to seize a hill northeast of Sun Yat-sen Gate that overlooked the city entrance. His commander told him “The attack on Nanjing will likely be the last battle of this war, and I hope your company can be at the front when the enemy's lines are breached”. The hill was fortified with numerous machine gun positions, reinforced with mud, bricks, and tiles, and connected by an intricate network of trenches. Dense rows of barbed wire lay before the positions, designed to halt attackers and expose them to machine-gun fire. Additionally, the area was likely heavily mined, and Chinese soldiers maintained a high level of alertness. Akao knew this all too well; when he crawled forward and slightly lifted his head to survey the landscape, he triggered a hail of bullets, one of which grazed his helmet. Around late afternoon, four mountain guns from the regimental artillery began firing on the Chinese positions, sustaining the bombardment for over an hour. By 5:00 pm, as the winter sky darkened, Akao decided it was time to launch the attack. Expecting close-quarters combat, he instructed his men to carry only their rifles and small entrenchment tools. With the entire company poised to move, he dispatched a small group of soldiers ahead to cut openings in the barbed wire while receiving covering fire from the mountain guns and the rifles and machine guns of their comrades. The remainder of the company advanced with swords raised and bayonets fixed. As they approached within about 700 feet of the enemy positions, the artillery bombardment ceased as planned. The enemy, still reeling from the ferocity of the earlier assault, scrambled in a panic from their trenches, retreating in disarray. Akao and his fellow soldiers pressed forward, cutting down any opposition in their path. Seizing the momentum, Akao charged to occupy the hill that had been his target. He found it deserted upon his arrival and sent a triumphant message back to command, reporting that the objective had been achieved. However, the reply he received left him baffled: he was ordered to withdraw with his company and return to their lines. Apparently, the regimental command deemed the position too precarious. Sensing that a precious advantage was being squandered, Akao disregarded the order. Before his company could establish a defensive position on the hill, the Chinese launched a counterattack. Lying down, the Japanese soldiers returned fire while frantically digging into the earth to fortify their position. Gradually, they began to form a rudimentary perimeter at the summit. The fighting continued into the night. Exhausted from days without sleep, many soldiers rotated between guard duty and rest, dozing off intermittently in their shallow trenches, reassuring one another that everything would be alright before drifting back to sleep. They successfully repelled all attempts by the Chinese to reclaim the hill and were eventually relieved. On December 11, after leaving his capital, Chiang Kai-shek took time to reflect on everything that had happened in his diary. He reassured himself that his nationalist revolution would persist, regardless of whether he held Nanjing, “Temporary defeat can be turned into eventual victory.” Yet he did not fear so much the Japanese invasion itself, but rather how the weakening of his nationalist government might allow the Communists to rise. He wrote about how his nation was on the brink of becoming a second Spain. While foreign invasions were undoubtedly disastrous, they could eventually be overcome, if not immediately, then over years or decades. Sometimes, this could be achieved merely by absorbing the outmatched invader and assimilating them into Chinese society. In contrast, internal unrest posed a far more fundamental threat to the survival of any regime. As we have seen in this series, going back to the mid 19th century, was it the foreign empires of Britain, France and Russia that threatened to destroy the Qing dynasty, or was it the internal civil war brought on by the Taiping? As Chiang famously put it “the Japanese were a treatable disease of the skin. Communism however was a disease of the heart”. Chiang could accept a humiliating but rapid retreat from Nanjing. In his view, it would be far more difficult to recover from a bloody yet futile struggle for the city that might cost him what remained of his best troops. A prolonged defensive battle, he reasoned, would be a tragic waste and could shift the balance of power decisively in favor of the Communists. This new mindset was reflected in a telegram he sent late on December 11 to Tang Shengzhi: “If the situation becomes untenable, it is permissible to find the opportune moment to retreat to regroup in the rear in anticipation of future counterattacks.” On December 12, tankettes cautiously plunged into the Yuhuatai plateau. Unexpectedly the Chinese defenders abandoned their positions and rushed down the hillside toward Nanjing's walls. Upon discovering this, the Japanese tankettes opened fire on the retreating Chinese, cutting swathes through the masses and sending bodies tumbling down the slope. Some Japanese infantry caught up, joining in the slaughter and laughing boisterously as they reveled in the chaos. A tankette column escorted a group of engineers to the Nanjing wall and then drove east along the moat until they reached a large gate, flanked by two smaller openings, all securely shut. A chilling message, painted in blue, adorned the gate's surface. Written in Chinese characters, it conveyed a stark warning: “We Swear Revenge on the Enemy.” The wall itself loomed three stories high, but Japanese artillery was already targeting it, this was known as the Chinese Gate. Now that Yuhuatai was virtually in Japanese hands, capturing the gate had become the primary objective. At this location, the wall stood 70 feet tall, protected by a 100-foot moat to the outside. All bridges spanning the moat had been destroyed. The area around the gate was heavily defended, with approximately one machine gun positioned every 50 yards atop the wall. Inside, the gate was reinforced with a formidable barrier of sandbags. Chinese infantry armed with mortars and small arms could fire down on the Japanese attackers while others had established isolated positions in nearby buildings that had survived the “scorched earth” policy. Taking the gate and the heavily fortified southwestern corner of the wall was the responsibility of the 6th Division. The division was deploying its regiments: the 13th, the 47th, and the 23rd from east to west. The 45th Regiment, the final unit of the division, was tasked with skirting the western side of the wall and advancing northward, aiming for the Yangtze docks at Xiaguan. The soldiers of the division had already formed a rough understanding of the formidable defenses they were facing. During the night between December 11 and 12, they had advanced nearly to the wall, gathering intelligence to prepare for an assault at dawn. As planned, the assault commenced. Field artillery fired round after round at the gate, but the wall sustained minimal damage. A Japanese tank rolled up, firing point-blank at the gate but producing no visible effect. Next, it was the engineers' turn. A “dare-to-die” squad, equipped with long ladders, crept as close to the wall as possible without exposing themselves and then sprinted the final distance. The moment they broke into the open, a Chinese machine gun opened fire, cutting them down to the last man. At noon, three Japanese planes soared overhead, dropping bombs near a Chinese-held building outside the gate. The smoke from the resulting fire briefly obscured the area. Seizing the opportunity presented by the reduced visibility, a large group of Chinese soldiers holed up inside attempted to dash back to the wall. The Japanese spotted their movement instantly, and every soldier in the line opened fire. The fleeing Chinese were mowed down like ripe grass, collapsing in heaps.  Meanwhile the battle for the Gate of Enlightenment was drawing to a close. On the Chinese side of the wall, confusion reigned regarding the overall situation on December 12. Chen Yiding, brigade commander of the 87th Division, had been warned that heads would roll if the Gate of Enlightenment fell to the Japanese. Hearing the sounds of fierce fighting on the edges of Yuhuatai and seeing the smoke rise from numerous fires on Purple Mountain, he was left in the dark about their implications, surrounded by the fog of war. Chen's troops had finally managed to establish a telephone link to the rear, but by mid-afternoon, it was cut off, likely due to a stray artillery shell. After dark, Chen sent an officer to his left flank to make contact with the Chinese forces there. The report that followed was far from reassuring. A unit from Guangdong Province was abandoning its positions and retreating north, attempting to exit the capital through one of the gates in the city wall. The officer had attempted to inquire about their destination, but the retreating soldiers ignored him. With neighboring units evacuating autonomously, a significant gap was opening in the Chinese line atop the wall between the Gate of Enlightenment and Sun Yat-sen Gate. A frightening possibility emerged: the Japanese could walk right in across the undefended southeastern corner of the city wall and surround Chen Yiding's troops before they had a chance to withdraw. The situation was becoming untenable, a fact underscored by the artillery fire raining down on Chen's position. Despite this, retreat was not a simple decision for Chen and the other commanders of the 87th Division. They had been garrisoned in Nanjing before the war, and the city had become home to many of the soldiers. Shortly after midnight, Chen called a meeting with his senior officers. After considerable discussion, they concluded that they had no choice but to withdraw. Nonetheless, Chen insisted that everyone sign a document confirming their support for this decision, recognizing the potential danger of taking such a significant step without consensus. After all, his own life had been threatened if the situation deteriorated further. Soon after, the Chinese began to move out of their positions. The Japanese were initially unaware of the retreat; all they noticed during the night between December 12 and 13 was that the Chinese artillery fire began to grow increasingly distant. By 4:00 am it had stopped completely. The few remaining Chinese were quickly overwhelmed and killed. In the end, the gate, which had cost so many lives during the seemingly endless battle, was taken almost effortlessly by the Japanese. Soldiers of the 9th Division, stationed outside the wall, scrambled up the slope created by the previous days' shelling. Once at the top, they thrust their hands into the air, shouting “Banzai!” so loudly that they believed their families back home in Japan might hear them. Tears streamed down their faces as soldiers embraced and shook hands, reflecting on the friends they had lost throughout the months of fighting, from Shanghai to their current position. They reassured each other that their sacrifices had been worth it for this very moment. On December 12,  the slopes of Purple Mountain  were ablaze. Zhou Zhenqiang, commander of the Training Division's 1st Brigade, led his men in a desperate struggle to maintain control of the mountain's forested peaks. However, they were being overwhelmed by the better-equipped Japanese troops, and Zhou knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to relinquish his position. Zhou found himself unable to obtain any information from his superiors about the overall situation, despite repeated attempts to contact the Training Division's headquarters. He dispatched a runner, who returned a few hours later with disheartening news: the divisional commander had left late in the afternoon. Other reports indicated a general breakdown in command. The elite 88th Division was in disarray, and an entire division of Guangdong troops, that being the same force that had abandoned the wall near the Gate of Enlightenment, had been spotted marching out of the Gate of Great Peace, seemingly intent on returning home. With indications of collapse all around him, Zhou decided to execute an orderly withdrawal from Purple Mountain, leaving a small contingent behind to cover the retreat. His troops entered through the city wall at Sun Yat-sen Gate and marched in disciplined columns through the streets of Nanjing, where signs of imminent anarchy were evident. Chinese soldiers were scattered everywhere, speaking a cacophony of dialects, yet they appeared to lack any coherent command. Tang Shengzhi's grip on the situation was weakening. Meanwhile Japan's 13th Air Group had been busy with the final stages of the battle for Nanjing.  In the morning of December 12, after raiding Chinese positions at Sun Yat-sen Gate, they  received new orders. Intelligence indicated that Chinese ships, laden with troops, were moving up the Yangtze from Nanjing. Japanese infantry on the ground could only watch as this prize slipped through their fingers, and the army requested air support. All available planes at Changzhou, a mix of A4N fighters and Yokosuka B4Y bombers, totaling 24 aircraft, were assembled for the crucial mission. The day was clear, providing excellent visibility as the pilots headed toward the section of the Yangtze where they believed the vessels would be, based on reasonable assumptions about their speed. At 1:30 p.m., 28 nautical miles upriver from Nanjing, the pilots sighted four ships. Trusting their military intelligence, they saw no need for further identification. Initially, the B4Ys bombed the vessels from a considerable height. One bomb struck the lead ship, a military vessel, disabling its forward gun and snapping the foremast. Then, a first wave of six A4Ns dove down over the line of ships, attacking individually. In total, they dropped about 20 bombs. Several exploded close enough to the lead vessel to damage its hull and injure crew members on deck. A 30-caliber machine gun on board was manned, with gunners stripped to the waist firing at the Japanese planes but failing to score a hit. Several of the A4Ns strafed the ship with machine-gun fire. After 20 minutes of sustained bombing and strafing, the result was utter devastation. The lead vessel was stuck in mid-river, riddled with bullets, aflame, and listing to starboard. Two other ships were beached on the right bank, while another sat stranded on the left. Satisfied with their mission, the Japanese aviators broke off and returned to their temporary base. Upon their landing in Changzhou, instead of receiving accolades, the pilots were met with reprimands. Why hadn't they sunk all the vessels? They were ordered to return immediately to finish the job. Though they didn't find the original targets, they stumbled upon four other vessels closer to Nanjing. One aircraft dove toward the ships, releasing a 60-kilogram bomb that struck one vessel. As the pilot pulled up, he caught sight of the Union Jack on the hull and realized his mistake; he had inadvertently targeted neutral ships. The other pilots recognized the significance of the markings as well and withheld their bombs. The vessel was identified as the SS Wantung. Soon after, the Japanese pilots understood that the ships they had attacked earlier upriver from Nanjing were also Western; three of them were Standard Oil tankers. The last vessel, which had sustained the most damage, was the USS Panay, a lightly armed flat-bottomed gunboat,  tasked with protecting American lives and property along China's longest river. The Panay had been instrumental in evacuating American citizens from the war zone in November and December. On the day it was attacked, the Panay was carrying four American embassy personnel and ten American and foreign journalists to safety. The ship's doctor converted the engine room into a makeshift sick bay, treating a steady stream of injured personnel. By the end, he was tending to 45 patients. The soldiers and passengers were evacuated in two small boats to a nearby marshy island covered in reeds, where they hid, fearful of further strafing. From their hiding place, they watched as a Japanese powerboat filled with soldiers approached the Panay. After firing more volleys at the vessel, the soldiers boarded it, remaining for only five minutes before departing. The American flag still flew from the bow at that time. At 3:54 pm, the Panay rolled over to starboard and sank in seven to ten fathoms of water. Cold and frightened, the survivors waded through knee-deep mud to a nearby village, assisting those too severely wounded to walk.  Meanwhile back at Chinese Gate, the mutual slaughter continued into the afternoon of December 12. The Japanese made no significant progress, although their failure was not for lack of trying. The commanders of the 6th Division had strategically placed the boundary between the 13th and 47th Regiments exactly at the gate, encouraging both units to compete to be the first to seize the position. Yet, despite their efforts, it became clear that willpower alone was not enough to breach the Chinese defenses at Chinese Gate. In peacetime, Nanjing's city gates served as entry points into a bustling capital, but in wartime, they transformed into heavily fortified and nearly impregnable strongholds. Any Japanese officer hoping for a swift victory would soon be disappointed; by early afternoon, the situation at the gate had devolved into a stalemate. The section of the wall manned by the 47th Infantry Regiment, located east of the gate, also saw little meaningful movement as the day wore on. Japanese soldiers, pinned down by Chinese fire from atop the wall, could do little more than take pride in a symbolic triumph. A small group of soldiers had managed to reach the wall and place a ladder against it, but it fell nearly ten feet short of the top. One soldier skillfully scaled the last portion, gripping protruding bricks and crevices of the nearly vertical surface. The entire Japanese front watched him with bated breath. He reached the top and unfurled a Japanese flag, but it immediately drew intense Chinese fire, forcing him to duck for cover. Soon, he vanished from sight, raising concerns among his compatriots about his fate. Later, it was revealed that he had taken refuge in a depression in the wall, waiting out the battle. The real breakthrough of the day would occur west of the gate. The 23rd Regiment was deployed there with orders to capture sections of the wall near the southwestern corner. It became evident that the wall could not be scaled without first bringing up artillery to create gaps in its solid masonry. A significant portion of the divisional fire support, 36 small-caliber mountain guns, four 100mm howitzers, and four 150mm howitzers, was assigned to this section. Artillery observers were also sent to the 23rd Regiment's forward command post to coordinate with the infantry and assess the effects of the shelling. By mid-afternoon, the artillery bombardment had created a ravine-like hole in the wall large enough for an assault. The 23rd Regiment positioned its 2nd and 3rd Battalions at the front, with the 1st Battalion held in reserve. First, the engineers undertook the challenging task. As the assault commenced, the rest of the regiment provided covering fire to force the Chinese defenders to seek shelter while the engineers charged into the 70-foot-wide moat. Once a human chain formed, they held up ladders as a makeshift bridge, allowing a company from the 3rd Battalion to rush across and into the gap in the wall. As the batteries switched to close infantry support, they laid down a barrage around the breach to prevent Chinese interference as the attack entered its decisive phase. The Japanese soldiers scrambled up the rubble, created by the artillery fire, which rose several dozen feet high. Shortly before 5:00 p.m., the Japanese seized control of the southwestern segment of the wall. The Chinese launched several counterattacks to reclaim the position, but none were successful. This action ultimately sealed Nanjing's fate; beyond the wall, there was nothing left to save the ancient city and its inhabitants. As defeat appeared imminent, more and more civilians sought safety in foreign-controlled areas, though danger still loomed large. Bits of shrapnel narrowly missed Dr. Robert Wilson while he operated in the Safety Zone. Every square foot of John Rabe's property became filled with families, many camping in the open with their own blankets. Some sought refuge under his large swastika flag, believing that this would make the area especially “bomb-proof” given the growing friendship between Tokyo and Berlin; they assumed Japanese aviators would think twice before targeting a region seemingly under German protection. With just hours left before the Japanese Army was expected to gain control, the residents of Nanjing made their last preparations, prioritizing personal survival. The brutal behavior of Japanese troops in conquered territories fueled intense concern over the possible fate of injured soldiers who might fall into enemy hands. As Nanjing's last hours as a free city unfolded, it became imperative for local hospitals to evacuate as many wounded soldiers as possible across the Yangtze. On December 12, doctors found a motorboat stranded on the riverbank, having apparently broken down. They managed to repair it and ferried several hundred patients to safety throughout the day. Throughout December 12, the citizens of Nanjing were subjected to the unsettling cacophony of heavy shelling, mixed with the roar of bombers overhead. By evening, the entire horizon south of the city glowed with flames. The sound of fighting emanated from all directions, continuing long after sunset. However, in the middle of the night, activity began to wan. Every few minutes, the muffled thuds of shells could still be heard, though their origin was unclear. For the most part, an eerie silence prevailed, as if the city was holding its breath in anticipation of the final onslaught. Chiang Kai-shek had indicated he would understand if Tang chose to abandon the capital. However, on December 12, he reversed his stance, sending a telegram to Tang expressing optimism that the Nanjing garrison could hold out significantly longer. In his words “If you do not shy away from sacrifices, you will be able to hold high the banner of our nation and our army, and this could transform defeat into victory. If you can hold out one more day, you will add to the pride of the Chinese nation. If you can hold out for half a month or more, the domestic and international situation could see a substantial change.” Tang adopted a hardline approach toward any signs of defeatism among his troops. When he learned that General Sun Yuanliang, commander of the formerly elite 88th Division, was leading approximately 2,000 men from the Gate of Enlightenment to the dock area, Tang acted swiftly. He dispatched Song Xilian, the commanding general of the 36th Division, to halt the retreat. When the two units met, a fratricidal clash nearly occurred. Fortunately, the 88th Division agreed to return to the gate and continue fighting. Whatever Tang's plans, they were rendered irrelevant at 3:00 pm,  when he received another telegram from Chiang, this time ordering a full retreat. Rumors that the Chinese Army had started evacuating Nanjing triggerec panic among many units. Thousands abandoned their positions and joined the throngs of soldiers and civilians moving slowly down the city's main avenues. The crowd seemed to have collectively decided that getting a boat out of Nanjing was the best option, and by late afternoon, a solid mass of humanity stretched for miles through the city toward the dock areas at Xiaguan. To reach Xiaguan, everyone had to pass through Yijiang Gate. This relatively modern structure had served as the main entry point for visitors arriving in Nanjing by boat in recent decades and now only half of the main entrance was open. A crowd of that size trying to get through such a narrow bottleneck was a recipe for disaster. Those unfortunate enough to be right at the front felt the crushing pressure of tens of thousands of individuals pushing from behind. In that densely packed throng, stumbling and falling to the ground was akin to a death sentence; anyone who went down was inevitably crushed by the oncoming waves of terrified civilians and soldiers. As chaos erupted, discipline evaporated entirely. Officers lost control over their men, leading to infighting among the soldiers. Pushing and shoving escalated into fistfights, and trucks drove directly into the mass of people to force their way through. Tanks, emitting sounds akin to prehistoric beasts, rolled through the mob, crushing many under their weight. Amid the madness, some soldiers, driven by frustration over the lack of movement, began shooting into the crowd at random. To relieve the pressure at Yijiang Gate, some units were ordered to exit Nanjing via the Gate of Great Peace at the northeastern corner of the city wall. Upon arrival, they found the entrance nearly sealed shut. Thick walls of sandbags had been erected around it, leaving only a narrow opening through which one person could pass at a time. Massive crowds fought among themselves to get through; even under perfect order and discipline, it would have taken the entire night and most of the following day for everyone to pass. In the midst of the frantic chaos, it could take a week or more. During the night of the 12th, a select group of Japanese soldiers, chosen for the offensive, stripped their equipment down to the bare essentials: rifles, bayonets, and helmets. They avoided any gear that could produce a metallic noise, alerting the Chinese defenders to their approach. Stealthily, they moved up to the wall, carrying bamboo ladders tied together in threes for added height. Ascending the rungs, they ensured not to make a sound that could betray their position to an alert Chinese sentry. Everything hinged on remaining undetected; even a couple of hand grenades tossed down the wall could halt the attack in its tracks. Reaching the top without being noticed, the soldiers quickly fanned out. Chinese soldiers stationed on the wall saw the swift dark figures and opened fire, but it was too late to thwart the assault. A brief fight ensued; most Japanese soldiers were too close to use their rifles and immediately resorted to their bayonets. The stunned defenders were pushed back, and the successful assault team established a perimeter, awaiting reinforcements from outside the wall. They didn't have to wait long. A massive assault along the length of the 6th Division's front line commenced at dawn on December 13. Japanese artillery concentrated its fire on a narrow section of the city wall, progressively working its way from the bottom up. Gradually, the shells formed a slope of debris that soldiers could use to scale the wall. A short air raid was executed, and after the planes had weakened the remaining resistance, a group of soldiers rushed up the slope. While their comrades provided covering fire, they climbed the last stretch, rolling down a rope ladder. Within minutes, 40 other Japanese soldiers had joined them. By 10:30 am, the Rising Sun flag was flying over the wall. The Japanese invaders were met with a horrific sight at the top of the wall. Beyond lay the grim aftermath of days of shelling. Some houses were leveled, while others burned. The ground was littered with bodies, some decapitated or disemboweled, and pools of blood surrounded them. As Chiang Kai-shek's order to abandon the city gradually filtered down to the troops manning the wall around Nanjing, things began to move rapidly.  By late morning on December 13, all the major entry points into the city had fallen to the Japanese. These included Chinese Gate in the southwest, the Gate of Enlightenment in the south, and Sun Yat-sen Gate in the east. The first thing that struck the Japanese soldiers upon ascending the wall was how starkly different it was from their expectations. They had anticipated a bustling city teeming with people, but instead, the area adjacent to the wall was characterized by farm plots, resembling countryside more than an urban center. The second notable observation was the complete absence of inhabitants. Cautiously, the Japanese soldiers entered the city they had just conquered, their bayonets fixed and rifles at the ready. Yet, surprisingly, very few shots were fired. After weeks of fearing death and injury, once the immediate danger receded, a certain stupor settled in. For most civilians in Nanjing, their initial encounter with the city's new rulers was uneventful. It took several hours for the Japanese to move from the wall into the urban parts of the capital. It was not until around noon that residents noticed the first groups of Japanese soldiers marching down the streets in clusters of six to twelve men. Initially, many met the conquerors with relief, hoping they would be treated fairly. Their optimism was bolstered by Japanese planes dropping leaflets over the city, reassuring residents of humane treatment. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. On December 9, fierce battles erupted, especially at the Gate of Enlightenment. Despite heavy fighting, the Chinese showed remarkable resilience, turning Nanjing into a symbol of determination. However, the tide shifted as overwhelming Japanese artillery and tactics began to breach defenses. By December 13, as chaos engulfed the city, the invaders claimed victory, but not without significant loss. Civilians, caught amid the destruction, clung to hope amid despair.

The late-Qing author and his famous novel.Support the show

For nearly a quarter century, Heshen served the Qing Empire - and in the process managed to amass a fortune that nearly rivaled the throne itself. Yet with the death of his patron Qianlong, the once-favored Grand Councilor would find his remaining state tenure as short as the length of silk ultimately left in his cell. Time Period Covered: 1799-1800 CE Major Historical Figures: The Qianlong Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Hongli) [r. 1735–1796, d. 1799] The Jiaqing Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Yongyan) [r. 1796-1820] Heshen, Grand Councilor, Chief Grand Secretary, Minister of the Imperial Household, etc., etc. [1750-1799] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Happy Sunday! For this episode we dive head first into The Blood Phoenix an epic silkpunk fantasy sequel based on the Qing dynasty. In the book Amber Chen sets sail alongside her readers against pirate, dangerous storms, and other assorted chaos in this sparkling follow up to Of Jade and Dragons. Follow AmberFollow OTSMap of Indie BookstoresOTS SubstackGet The Blood Phoenix!Book Bar - SingaporeOdyssey BooksQuail Ridge Books

As both the Qianlong Emperor's extensive reign and the Eighteenth Century itself comes to a close, the Qing Empire faces - in spite of its outward posturing of timeless grandeur and invulnerability - an ever more uncertain future. By this time his successor, the Jiaqing Emperor, assumes power in fact, the winds of historic change have already begun to blow. Time Period Covered: ~1735-1800 Major Historical Actors: The Qianlong Emperor [Aisin-Gioro Hongli) [r. 1735-1796, d. 1799] The Jiaqing Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Yongyan) [r. 1796-1820] Grand Secretary Heshen [1750-1799] Major Sources Cited: Crossley, Pamela Kyle. A Translucent Mirror: History and Identity in Qing Imperial Ideology. Hsü, Immanuel C. Y. The Rise of Modern China. 6th ed. Jones, Susan Mann, and Philip A. Kuhn. “The Chia-ch'ing Reign.” In The Cambridge History of China, Volume 9, Part Two: The Ch'ing Empire to 1911. Rowe, William T. China's Last Empire: The Great Qing. Woodside, Alexander. The Centre and the Borderlands in Chinese Political Culture. Woodside, Alexander. “The Ch'ien-lung Reign” In The Cambridge History of China, Volume 9, Part One: The Ch'ing Empire to 1800. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

What happens when a bodybuilder, dismissed as “too unspiritual,” learns to meditate in the middle of gunfire—and within a week channels Lao Tzu, performs a long-distance healing, and watches gangrene turn pink in front of his eyes?This isn't new age philosophy. This isn't “feel good” spirituality. This is raw power—channeled with precision that doesn't just challenge belief, it obliterates it.Inside this conversation: ⚡ How meditation in chaos rewired his entire field ⚡ The shocking moment he channeled Lao Tzu in front of a doubting teacher ⚡ The spontaneous healing that defied medicine and logic ⚡ Exposing spiritual ego in teachers + gurusIf you're tired of theory and ready for codes that collapse time, confront distortion, and prove miracles in real time—this episode will change how you see reality itself.⬇️Velocity Oracle™https://www.nicolefrolick.com/velocity-oracle-p⬇️Divine Data Drop™https://www.nicolefrolick.com/divine-data-drop-order-form⬇️The 3-Day 180™ Retreat Sept 25-28th, 2025https://www.nicolefrolick.com/3-day-180-retreat⬇️Healing Exit Strategy™https://www.nicolefrolick.com/healing-exit-strategy-p⬇️Help save children from traffickinghttps://forthekids.life/nicole4v4crSan QingWebsite: https://immortaltaoistrites.com/The Way App: https://apps.apple.com/us/app/the-way-126/id1660559464The Way Webiste: https://theway126.comInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/theway_126/ YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@theway126experienceSUBSCRIBE & FOLLOWIf you're enjoying the show, please subscribe to iTunes and leave me a 5 star review!  This is what helps the podcast stand out from the crowd and allows me to help people find a refreshing spin on spirituality with a great blend of entertainment and credible advice.Newsletter: https://tinyurl.com/3wa5dnwjWebsite: http://nicolefrolick.com/Meditations: https://www.nicolefrolick.com/meditationsYoutube: https://www.youtube.com/user/nicolefrolickInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/nicolefrolick/Tiktok: https://tiktok.com/@nicolefrolickSpotify: shorturl.at/fikF7iTunes: http://apple.co/2ve7DtE

From London's harbors to Canton's bustling hongs and the Qianlong Emperor's Dragon Throne, Lord George Macartney's 1792-94 mission to Great Qing unveils profound cultural divides, shaping centuries of Sino-Western relations. This series explores a pivotal diplomatic clash that redefined global history. Time Period Covered: 1792-1794 CE Major Historical Figures: Qing Empire: The Qianlong Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Hongli) [r. 1735–1796] Chief Minister Heshen (1750–1799) Wang Wenxiong, mid-level imperial bureaucrat British Empire: Lord George Macartney, ambassador extraordinaire [1737–1806] Sir George Staunton [1737-1801] William Alexander [1767–1816] John Barrow, Comptroller [1764-1848] Sgt. Maj. Samuel Holmes, 11th Lt. Dragoons Major Works Cited: Berg, Maxine. The Birth of the Modern World, 1780–1914: Global Connections and Comparisons. Cranmer-Byng, John. “The Chinese Documents Relating to the Macartney Embassy.” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 1961. Gao, Hao. Creating the Opium War: British Imperial Attitudes Toward China, 1792–1840. Hevia, James L. Cherishing Men from Afar: Qing Guest Ritual and the Macartney Embassy of 1793. Holmes, Samuel. Journal of the Macartney Expedition. Macartney, Lord George. Journal of the Macartney Expedition. Peyrefitte, Alain. The Immobile Empire: The First Great Collision of East and West. Knopf, 1992. Qing Archival Records. Tr. in Presents and Tribute: Documents on the Macartney Embassy. Staunton, George. An Authentic Account of an Embassy from the King of Great Britain to the Emperor of China. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Xi Jinping encabezó en Lhasa las grandiosas celebraciones del 60.º aniversario de la región autónoma del Tíbet, durante una visita excepcional en la que hizo un llamamiento a la 'unidad interétnica'. El presidente chino realizó el miércoles su segunda visita como jefe de Estado a la región autónoma del Tíbet, un territorio montañoso del suroeste de China cuya historia está marcada por una larga alternancia entre la independencia y la soberanía de Pekín. En esta ocasión, Xi Jinping no escatimó en festejos para celebrar seis décadas de control sobre el Tíbet. Obsequiado con la khata budista —el pañuelo sagrado tibetano que engalana las ceremonias— y ante 20.000 funcionarios y habitantes locales de “todos los grupos étnicos”, según las autoridades, el líder chino habló sobre la necesidad de "guiar el budismo tibetano en la adaptación a la sociedad socialista". Una "adaptación" que no es un mero ajuste cultural o teológico, sino una estrategia de control del Partido Comunista Chino, según cuenta Anna Ferrer, doctoranda en historia en la Universitat Pompeu Fabra y especialista en el conflicto. "Xi quiere lograr con el budismo tibetano lo mismo que con el resto de religiones permitidas en China", afirma Ferrer. La República Popular China, aunque atea, permite la práctica de ciertas religiones bajo estrictos parámetros gubernamentales que regulan la jerarquía eclesiástica. Y es en este punto donde Pekín se encuentra con un reto mayúsculo. El Dalái Lama, líder espiritual de los budistas, ha cumplido 90 años en la India, donde reside el gobierno tibetano en el exilio desde 1959. El escenario para su sucesión es aún incierto y complejo. Él mismo "había llegado a apuntar a la posibilidad de no reencarnarse", dice Ferrer. Si se reencarnara, la historiadora advierte que "es posible que exista una fragmentación entre un candidato elegido por el gobierno tibetano en el exilio y otro que contaría con el apoyo del gobierno chino". Pekín, por su parte, se aferra a la legitimidad del "proceso de la urna de oro", un método de designación de sucesores que data de la dinastía Qing y que la portavoz del Ministerio de Exteriores de China, Mao Ning, defendió como la única herramienta válida para designarlo. "El gobierno chino implementa una política de libertad de creencias religiosas, pero existen regulaciones sobre asuntos religiosos y métodos para gestionar la reencarnación de los budas vivientes tibetanos", dijo entonces Ning. La comunidad internacional y la propia comunidad tibetana se enfrentarían a la difícil decisión de reconocer a uno u otro, lo que podría conducir a una división religiosa. La dificultad de la sucesión de los líderes budistas ya se hizo patente con el Panchen Lama, la segunda autoridad del budismo tibetano. Anna Ferrer explica que "el candidato avalado por el exilio tibetano acabó desapareciendo en circunstancias que nunca han terminado de aclararse". En su lugar, el gobierno chino impuso su propio candidato, generando una división profunda: "el exilio tibetano sigue reconociendo la legitimidad de ese candidato, de ese niño al que las autoridades chinas hicieron desaparecer en 1995", mientras que el candidato apoyado por Pekín ejerce como Panchen Lama dentro del Tíbet. Históricamente, la relación entre Tíbet y China ha sido compleja, "alternando periodos de vínculo matrimonial o relaciones patrón-sacerdote con otros de 'independencia relativa'", cuenta Ferrer. Tras la proclamación de la República Popular de China en 1949 y de que el gobierno de Mao Zedong se propusiera recuperar el control sobre el Tíbet, los objetivos de Pekín se han cumplido exitosamente. Según Ferrer, el gobierno chino "quiere terminar de ejercer un control efectivo sobre la religión budista tibetana, desde lo que es la práctica de los fieles hasta la jerarquía religiosa y también las normas en cuanto al culto". De su éxito dependerá la autonomía espiritual del Tíbet.

Good afternoon, I'm _____ with today's episode of EZ News. Tai-Ex opening The Tai-Ex opened 71-points this morning from yesterday's close, at 24,033 on turnover of $7.2-billion N-T. Taiwan and US sign MOU on combating cross-border drug trafficking Taiwan and the United States have signed a memorandum of understanding to jointly combat transnational drug trafficking. According to the American Institute in Taiwan, the agreement will enhance intelligence sharing between the U-S Drug Enforcement Administration and the Taiwan High Prosecutors Office .. ….. by "enabling more efficient investigations and prosecutions of transnational drug trafficking organizations." A-I-T has issues a press release quoting D-E-A Asia Pacific Division Special Agent in charge John Scott as saying that the annual forum represents the "shared commitment of Taiwan and the United States to combat the scourge (禍害) of drug trafficking." NPM to show 'meat-shaped stone' in first exhibition in Yilan The National Palace Museum has announced that its iconic "meat-shaped stone" and 14 other artifacts will be going on disply in Yilan for the first time. The artifacts will be part of a special exhibition co-organized with the Lanyang Museum in December. Along with its famed "meat-shaped stone," the National Palace Museum also selected a jade duck piece dating back to the Song and Yuan dynasties, a porcelain chicken cup in doucai painted enamels from the Ming dynasty … … and a revolving vase with swimming fish in cobalt blue glaze (釉) from the Qing dynasty as some of the artifacts that will be featured in the Yilan exhibition. Moscow says foreign troops in Ukraine would be ‘unacceptable' Russia called "absolutely unacceptable" the idea of deploying foreign forces in Ukraine discussed by Europe and Kiev as part of security guarantees for Ukraine. Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov accused the so-called "coalition of the willing" countries of attempts to undermine US President Donald Trump's peacemaking efforts. And reiterated (重申) any discussions of European security, Ukraine included, must involve Russia. Daria Bondarchuk reports from Moscow. Uganda Announces US Deal to Take Deported Migrants Uganda's foreign ministry says the African country has agreed to a deal with the United States to take deported migrants as long as they don't have criminal records and are not unaccompanied minors. The ministry said in a statement Thursday that the agreement had been concluded but that terms were still being worked out. It added that Uganda prefers that the migrants sent there be of African nationalities (國籍), but did not elaborate on what Uganda might get in return for accepting deportees. The U.S. embassy in Uganda declined to comment on what it called “diplomatic negotiations." Human rights activists criticized the deal as possibly going against international law. New Evidence of Earlier Modern Humans and Neanderthals Interaction And new findings suggest that modern humans and Neanderthals may have interacted 100-thousand years earlier than previously thought. That's according to researchers who used CT scans and 3D mapping to study the bones of a child they believe was the result of interbreeding between the two distinct groups. The child was buried in a cave in Israel some 140-thousand years ago. Because no ancient DNA was extracted from the fossilized (變成化石的) remains, it's impossible to confirm the child's origins, but scientists say microscopic details in the bones indicate the child had traits of both groups. The findings, recently published in a peer-reviewed journal, help shed light on when the two groups began interacting and offers clues about their relationships. That was the I.C.R.T. EZ News, I'm _____. －－－－以下為 SoundOn 動態廣告－－－－ 情況緊急、靈感斷線、加班爆肝、心情低氣壓？ ♫速速速，速神湯啦♫ 30秒沖一杯，讓你一口補神氣！ 忙碌的日子裡，別忘了給自己一點剛剛好的照顧 @bullhead_1958 #牛頭牌速神湯 https://sofm.pse.is/845xm5 -- Hosting provided by SoundOn

In 1793, Emperor Qianlong of Qing decreed a new process by which to select future Tibetan spiritual leaders like the Dalai Lama. And he wrote an essay about it.Support the show

San Qing returns to our show to talk about his newest book, Immortality Crystalized in the Material. He says, "The Path of A Taoist Alchemist is a journey of external transformation where poetry crystalizes the ethereal into the material." San explains what the mystical tool of Rhapsody is, and reads two of his poems. He talks about the teachings embodied when we use the breath. He explains what seamless Unity is, and The Great Bellows. He discusses the teachings of the Tao and his teachers, the Three Pure Ones.CONTACT: San QingE-MAIL: admin@theway126.comWEBSITE/LINKS: The Way 126 APP LIVE now on web, IOS and Android https://immortaltaoistrites.com/https://theway126.com/ Instagram https://www.instagram.com/theway_126 Apple Podcast https://podcasts.apple.com/si/podcast/consciousness-of-the-way-126-podcast/id1710027363FOLLOW US ON FACEBOOK: http://www.facebook.com/ASMALPodcastVISIT OUR WEBSITE: http://www.asmallmediumatlarge.coEMAIL: asmallmediumatlargepodcast @gmail.com Show Produced by Green Valley Production StudioMusic by DJ Booda: http://www.djbooda.com

Qianlong's empire shines as a beacon of both martial might and cultural splendor, yet its mirrored glory hides truths too fragile for celestial ambitions. Time Period Covered: ~1770-1799CE Major Historical Figures: Qing Empire: The Qianlong Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Hongli) [r. 1735–1796, d. 1799] Grand Councillor Heshen [1750-1799] Great Britain: Lord George Macartney (1737-1806) Major Sources Cited: Bland, J.O.P. and Lord Edmund Backhouse. Annals and Memoirs of the Court at Peking. Fairbank, John King, and Denis Twitchett, eds. The Cambridge History of China, Volume 9, Part 1: The Ch'ing Empire to 1800. Perdue, Peter. China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. Woodside, Alexander. The Qing in the Age of Confucian Empire. Yuan, Wei. Shengwu ji (Sacred Military Achievements). Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

By Jonathan Selling Professor Ronald Po joins Jonathan to discuss his new book, Shaping the Blue Dragon: Maritime China in the Ming and Qing Dynasties, which covers the maritime policies of the Ming and Qing dynasties. Download Sea Control 583: Shaping the Blue Dragon with Ronald Po Links 1. Dr Ronald C. Po profile. 2. Shaping … Continue reading Sea Control 583: Shaping the Blue Dragon with Ronald Po →

“Il sogno della Camera rossa” è uno dei grandi classici della letteratura cinese. Al centro del libro ci sono le vicende di una nobile famiglia e il suo inevitabile declino. L'ambientazione è nella Cina del ‘700, durante la dinastia Qing. Realtà e sovrannaturale, ordine e anarchia, declino e ascese: il romanzo ha molteplici chiavi di lettura e - come scrive Edoarda Masi nell'introduzione all'edizione del 2008 pubblicata da Rizzoli - “non è un semplice racconto, ma un universo di specchi e illusioni, un palcoscenico dove la letteratura "irregolare" si mescola al rigore confuciano”. La voce della gemma di giada è di Fiamma Calarco. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Title: Come And WorshipSpeaker: Luke BrandonScripture: Psalm 95Episode Overview:In Psalm 95, we find both an invitation and a warning—an invitation to enter God's presence with joy, reverence, and wholehearted worship, and a sobering reminder to guard our hearts from disbelief. Using vivid stories—from a forgotten Qing dynasty vase to modern sports icons searching for meaning—this message unpacks what it means to worship God with our will, mind, and heart. We discover that everything we do communicates who we worship, and that true worship flows from trust in the Good Shepherd who knows us by name.Key Highlights:• What Worship Really Is: Ascribing ultimate value to God with every part of our being.• Worship with the Whole Person: Engaging mind, heart, and will to magnify God's character and works.• The Privilege of “Come”: God invites us back into His presence—what sin had once driven us from.• Examples from Life: How misplaced worship leaves us empty, from Super Bowl rings to earthly treasures.• The Warning of Psalm 95: How unbelief kept an entire generation from God's rest, and how we can avoid the same.• A Word of Hope: “Today” is God's offer of life, rest, and salvation for those who hear His voice.Call to Action:Today, let your life tell the truth about who sits on the throne of your heart. Worship is not just a Sunday activity—it's every thought you think, word you speak, and choice you make. Take time this week to intentionally ascribe worth to God with your actions: speak words that honor Him, serve someone in need, and replace grumbling with gratitude. Let your everyday life become an act of worship that points others to the King who is above all gods.Redeemer Church211 Northshore Dr. Bellingham, WA 98226www.redeemernw.org

Shaping the Blue Dragon: Maritime China in the Ming and Qing Dynasties (Liverpool UP, 2024) offers a vivid look at China's dynamic and longstanding relationship with the sea. Through the lives of pirates, maritime advisors, cartographers, admirals, writers, and travelers, Ronald C. Po brings maritime China to life — revealing a world far more connected and sea-orientated than often assumed. Richly detailed and captivating, Shaping the Blue Dragon should interest those in Chinese history, East Asian history, and the maritime world. But this is also a book for anyone who loves great stories. Packed with figures from a pirate king ruling the South China Seas to a gentry son-turned-traveler shipwrecked on his voyage to Southeast Asia, Shaping the Blue Dragon is a compelling blend of narrative and analysis. During our conversation we also talked about Po's first book, The Blue Frontier: Maritime Vision and Power in the Qing Empire (Cambridge UP, 2018) (a must-read!). Listeners who want to know more about this book in particular should also check out the episode about the book The Chinese History Podcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/chinese-studies

Shaping the Blue Dragon: Maritime China in the Ming and Qing Dynasties (Liverpool UP, 2024) offers a vivid look at China's dynamic and longstanding relationship with the sea. Through the lives of pirates, maritime advisors, cartographers, admirals, writers, and travelers, Ronald C. Po brings maritime China to life — revealing a world far more connected and sea-orientated than often assumed. Richly detailed and captivating, Shaping the Blue Dragon should interest those in Chinese history, East Asian history, and the maritime world. But this is also a book for anyone who loves great stories. Packed with figures from a pirate king ruling the South China Seas to a gentry son-turned-traveler shipwrecked on his voyage to Southeast Asia, Shaping the Blue Dragon is a compelling blend of narrative and analysis. During our conversation we also talked about Po's first book, The Blue Frontier: Maritime Vision and Power in the Qing Empire (Cambridge UP, 2018) (a must-read!). Listeners who want to know more about this book in particular should also check out the episode about the book The Chinese History Podcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Shaping the Blue Dragon: Maritime China in the Ming and Qing Dynasties (Liverpool UP, 2024) offers a vivid look at China's dynamic and longstanding relationship with the sea. Through the lives of pirates, maritime advisors, cartographers, admirals, writers, and travelers, Ronald C. Po brings maritime China to life — revealing a world far more connected and sea-orientated than often assumed. Richly detailed and captivating, Shaping the Blue Dragon should interest those in Chinese history, East Asian history, and the maritime world. But this is also a book for anyone who loves great stories. Packed with figures from a pirate king ruling the South China Seas to a gentry son-turned-traveler shipwrecked on his voyage to Southeast Asia, Shaping the Blue Dragon is a compelling blend of narrative and analysis. During our conversation we also talked about Po's first book, The Blue Frontier: Maritime Vision and Power in the Qing Empire (Cambridge UP, 2018) (a must-read!). Listeners who want to know more about this book in particular should also check out the episode about the book The Chinese History Podcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/east-asian-studies

Shaping the Blue Dragon: Maritime China in the Ming and Qing Dynasties (Liverpool UP, 2024) offers a vivid look at China's dynamic and longstanding relationship with the sea. Through the lives of pirates, maritime advisors, cartographers, admirals, writers, and travelers, Ronald C. Po brings maritime China to life — revealing a world far more connected and sea-orientated than often assumed. Richly detailed and captivating, Shaping the Blue Dragon should interest those in Chinese history, East Asian history, and the maritime world. But this is also a book for anyone who loves great stories. Packed with figures from a pirate king ruling the South China Seas to a gentry son-turned-traveler shipwrecked on his voyage to Southeast Asia, Shaping the Blue Dragon is a compelling blend of narrative and analysis. During our conversation we also talked about Po's first book, The Blue Frontier: Maritime Vision and Power in the Qing Empire (Cambridge UP, 2018) (a must-read!). Listeners who want to know more about this book in particular should also check out the episode about the book The Chinese History Podcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

EVEN MORE about this episode!Step into the mystical with Taoist Master San Qing as we explore how focused intention, ancient wisdom, and spiritual energy can shape your reality. Discover the hidden power of "hopium" and how hope, aligned with purpose, becomes a force for transformation. From miraculous family healings to near-death experiences and the timeless teachings of the Tao Te Ching, this episode uncovers the sacred balance between life and the beyond. Plus, learn how lucid dreaming and breathwork can awaken your true self and unlock unseen realms of healing and insight.Guest Biography:Taoist Master San Qing is a renowned healer, ordained priest, and lineage holder of two ancient Taoist traditions. With over 30 years of experience, he guides people to awaken their true essence—as human, light, and pure being. A master of Qigong and Neigong, San Qing is known for his profound spiritual presence, miraculous healing work, and direct access to the spirit realm. Working with clients worldwide, he channels wisdom from the Tao and the Three Pure Ones, helping others realize that the impossible is truly possible.Episode Chapters:(0:00:01) - The Taoist Path to Create Reality(0:12:26) - Miraculous Healing Stories(0:22:58) - Ancient Wisdom of Lao Tzu(0:27:58) - Exploring Lucid Dreams and Alchemy(0:46:31) - Embarking on a Breathwork Journey➡️Subscribe to Ask Julie Ryan YouTube➡️Subscribe to Ask Julie Ryan Español YouTube➡️Subscribe to Ask Julie Ryan Português YouTube➡️Subscribe to Ask Julie Ryan Deutsch YouTube➡️Subscribe to Ask Julie Ryan Français YouTube✏️Ask Julie a Question!

In the wake of military victory, Qianlong turns inward—launching literary purges, rewriting history, and curating an image of himself as the enlightened ruler of a Confucian empire. Through censorship, spectacle, and the manipulation of memory, the Qing court fights a new kind of war: one for cultural supremacy and imperial legitimacy. Time Period Covered: ~ 1735–1760 CE Major Historical Figures: The Qianlong Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Hongli) [r. 1735-1796] Grand Secretary No'chin [d. 1749] Historican Wei Yuan [1794-1857] Major Works Cited: Perdue, Peter C. China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. Qian, Zhongshu – Tán Yì Lù, "On the Art of Poetry." Qianlong Emperor. The Siku Quanshu (四库全书) - Qing Imperial Encyclopedia. Woodside, Alexander. Lost Modernities: China, Vietnam, Korea, and the Hazards of World History. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

What does it take to hold an empire together when conquest alone isn't enough? In this sweeping episode, we explore how the Qianlong Emperor fused culture, coercion, and Confucian performance to stabilize a multiethnic empire—crafting an imperial image as powerful as his armies. Time Period Covered: ~ 1735–1760 CE Major Historical Figures: The Qianlong Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Hongli) [r. 1735-1796] Grand Secretary No'chin [d. 1749] Historican Wei Yuan [1794-1857] Major Works Cited: Perdue, Peter C. China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. Qian, Zhongshu – Tán Yì Lù, "On the Art of Poetry." Qianlong Emperor, The Siku Quanshu (四库全书) - Qing Imperial Encyclopedia. Woodside, Alexander. Lost Modernities: China, Vietnam, Korea, and the Hazards of World History. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

#367 In this episode, Guy welcomed back San Qing for an enlightened conversation about the deeper aspects of Daoist alchemy and spirituality. San dived into the intricate relationship between the body, energy, spirit, consciousness, and the primordial pulse, emphasizing the importance of realigning the energy within oneself to achieve immortality. The discussion also touches on the practices of channeling, the significance of conditioning the body and spirit, and the transformative power of empathy. San Qing shared a personal, moving story about using Daoist practices to save his son's life, illustrating the profound impact of these teachings. Guy and San also explored the potential of human longevity and the path to true self-realization. Enjoy this deep, emotive conversation that blends ancient wisdom with modern spiritual practices. About San: Taoist Master San Qing has over 30 years' experience guiding people, teaching people, opening people up to their true potential as a human being, as a light being, as just being. San Qing is an ordained priest and 66th generation lineage holder and 126th generation lineage holder of Taoism. San is a Taoist master of Qigong and Neigong, is a prolific channel and healer who has built a reputation for direct access to the spirit realm. He is grateful every day to his teachers, the Three Pure Ones and the Tao, for allowing him to witness miracles. San works with people all over the world showing them, that the impossible is possible. Key Points Discussed:  (00:00) - TAOIST MASTER Explains INVISIBLE FORCE Creating Reality; And the Forgotten Power Awakening in You (01:01) - Podcast Introduction and Guest Welcome (02:35) - San Qing's Journey and Teachings (03:18) - Understanding Personality and True Self (03:58) - The Path to Self-Realization (06:38) - Energy, Consciousness, and the Pulse (11:36) - The Alchemical Process and Sensory Perception (18:54)) - Holding and Harnessing Energy (25:15) - Breathing Through Consciousness (28:30) - The Unity of Energy and Emotions (31:56) - The World's Greatest Secret (32:22) - Evoking Moments and Unity (34:05) - Channeling and Teachers (35:44) - Alchemical Processes and Superhuman Abilities (36:53) - The Power of Empathy and Raising Humanity (45:01) - The Importance of Fundamentals in Metaphysics (53:56) - Human Potential and Longevity (56:44) - A Miraculous Experience (01:01:14) - Conclusion and Resources How to Contact San Qing:theway126.com www.youtube.com/@theway126experience   About me:My Instagram: www.instagram.com/guyhlawrence/?hl=en Guy's websites:www.guylawrence.com.au www.liveinflow.co

This was no peace borne of reconciliation; this was silence, enforced by amnesia. Time Period Covered: ~ 1739-1759 CE Major Historical Figures: Qing Empire: The Qianlong Emperor (Aisin Gioro Hongli) [r. 1735–1796] Minister Fuheng General Bandi [d. 1755] General Yongchang Khalka Mongols: Prince Erinchindorj [d. 1756] Prince Chingünjav [d. 1757] Dzungar Mongols: Amursana [d. 1757] Major Sources Cited: Perdue, Peter C. China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. Woodside, Alexander. "The Ch'ien-Lung Reign" in The Cambridge History of Vol. 9: The Ch'ing Dynasty, Part 1: To 1800. Woodside, Alexander. Lost Modernities: China, Vietnam, Korea, and the Hazards of World History. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

One of the most significant late-Qing officials and the bloody conflicts he fought.Support the show

Her podcast, ‘The Weirdo’, has attracted millions of particularly younger Chinese listeners. She speaks with Monocle’s Chris Cermak about differing perceptions of politics in China, Europe and the West.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The story of the last great nomadic empire's fall - and the Qing's ruthless imperial vision for a New Frontier. Time Period Covered: 1739-1759 CE Major Historical Figures: The Great Qing Empire: The Qianlong Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Hongli) [r. 1735–1796] General Bandi [d. 1755] Hojs, Hakim Beg of Ush Dzungar Khanate: Galdan Tseren [r. 1727–1745] Tsewang Dorji Namjal [blinded 1750] Lama Darja [r. 1750-52] Dawaci, self-declared Hong Taiji, [r.1752-55] Amursana [d. 1757] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Qing conquest of Dzungaria did not begin with any kind of cannon-fire or musketry. Instead, it began like many wars end: with a funeral. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

As his era of rule over Great Qing drows to a close, the Yongzheng Emperor spares neither expense nor detail to reform the empire he inherited and modernize it for the one who will inherit it from him. But this is no idle fancy - he has a definite purpose. Though no great warrior himself, he is nevertheless fully in-line with the century-long grand objective of his father and son: the absolute destruction of the Zhungar Khanate. Time Period Covered: 1722-1735 CE Major Historical Figures: Great Qing: The Yongzheng Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Yinzhen) [r. 1722-1735] The Qianlong Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Hongli) [r. 1735-1796, d. 1799] Prince Yinxing [1686-1730] General Longkedo [1648-1728] Governor-General Qingfu Governor-General Yinjishan Dzungar Khanate: Galdan Tseren, Khan of the Dzungars [r. 1727-1745] Tsewang Dorji Namjal, Hongtaiji of the Dzungars [1746-1750] Princess Ulan Bayar Lama Darja/Dorji Dawaci [d. 1759] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Yongzheng Emperor seeks to capitalize on his father's greatness abroad - but cautiously. He wants to exterminate the barbarians... but delicately. He wants to build better worlds... no matter how many he has to destroy in the process. He's riding for a fall. Time Period Covered: ~1725-1731 CE Major Historical Figures: Qing Empire: Kangxi Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Xuanye) [r. 1661-1722] Yongzheng Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Yinzhen) [r. 1722-1735] Prince Yinti, the Fuyuan Daijiangjun [1688-1755] Governor Nian Gengyao [1679-1726] Governor-General Yue Zhongqi [1686-1754] General Erentei [d. 1718] Funingga [d. 1728] Dzungar Khanate: Tsewang Rabdan, Khong Tayiji [r. 1697-1727] Galdan Tseren, Khong Tayiji [r. 1727-1745] General Tsering Dondup Tibetan Gelupa/“Yellow Hats”: 5th Dalai Lama [r. 1642-1682] 6th Dalai Lama [r. 1697] 7th Dalai Lama [r. 1720-1757] sDe-pa Sangya Gyatso [1652-1705] Polhanas (Polhané Sönam Topgyé) [1689-1747] Kokonor Mongols: Khoshots: Güshi Khan (Torbaikhu) [r. 1642-1655] Lhazang Khan [r. 1700-1717] Prince Lobzang Danjin, Dalai Hongtaiji [d. 1731] Sources Cited: Perdue, Peter C. China marches west: the Qing conquest of Central Eurasia. Rowe, William T. China's last empire: the great Qing. Zelin, Madeline. “The Yung-chung reign” in The Cambridge History of China, Vol. 9: The Ch'ing Dynasty, Part 1: To 1800. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

While the Yongzheng Emperor attempts to get his domestic policy ducks in a row from the Forbidden City, out on the Western Frontiers, change is the only constant. Between squabbling Tibetan lamas, restless Kokonor Khans, and the ever-dangerous Dzungar Empire still on the loose out there, the new successor of the late, great Kangxi Emperor has some very big combat-boots to fill... Time Period Covered: ca. 1722-1728 CE Major Historical Figures: Qing Empire: Kangxi Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Xuanye) [r. 1661-1722] Yongzheng Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Yinzhen) [r. 1722-1735] Prince Yinti, the Fuyuan Daijiangjun [1688-1755]Governor Nian Gengyao [1679-1726]Governor-General Yue Zhongqi [1686-1754]General Erentei [d. 1718]Funingga [d. 1728] Dzungar Khanate: Tsewang Rabdan, Khong Tayiji [r. 1697-1727] Galdan Tseren, Khong Tayiji [r. 1727-1745] General Tsering Dondup Tibetan Gelupa/“Yellow Hats”: 5th Dalai Lama[r. 1642-1682] 6th Dalai Lama [r. 1697] 7th Dalai Lama [r. 1720-1757] sDe-pa Sangya Gyatso [1652-1705] Polhanas (Polhané Sönam Topgyé) [1689-1747] Kokonor Mongols (Khoshots): Güshi Khan (Torbaikhu) [r. 1642-1655] Lhazang Khan [r. 1700-1717] Prince Lobzang Danjin, Dalai Hongtaiji [d. 1731] Sources Cited:Perdue, Peter C. China marches west: the Qing conquest of Central Eurasia.Rowe, William T. China's last empire: the great Qing. Zelin, Madeline. “The Yung-chung reign” in The Cambridge History of China, Vol. 9: The Ch'ing Dynasty, Part 1: To 1800. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode, we look at the life of Anson Burlingame, a well-known name  in California. During Lincoln's term as president, he was appointed Chief Minister to China, arriving in Beijing in the summer of 1862. Already well-known in the US as a fiery abolitionist and a man who believed everyone should be treated fairly and with all due respect, he sympathized with the Chinese government. When he arrived in post-Opium Wars, post-Treaty of Tianjin/Convention of Beijing China, he used his respected position among the diplomatic community of the treaty powers to fight for a fair deal for China. In a controversial move, he was appointed by the Qing government to lead a mission to the US and the great capitals of Europe to advocate on China's behalf. While in the US, Burlingame championed the signing of a treaty, the first of its kind, that recognized China as an equal sovereign nation. It opened the door to legal Chinese immigration and travel to the US. That ended up becoming the treaty's undoing.

  Last time we spoke about the Xi'an Incident. In December 1936, tensions in China erupted as Nationalist General Chiang Kai-shek faced a revolt led by his commanders, Zhang Xueliang and Yang Hucheng. Disillusioned by Chiang's focus on battling communists instead of the Japanese invaders, the generals swiftly captured him in a coup. Confined in Xi'an, Chiang initially resisted their demands for a united front against Japan but eventually engaged in negotiation with Zhang and the Chinese Communist Party. As public sentiment shifted against him, Chiang's predicament led to urgent discussions, culminating in an unexpected alliance with the communists. This pact aimed to consolidate Chinese resistance against Japanese aggression, marking a critical turning point in the Second Sino-Japanese War. By December 26, Chiang was released, and this uneasy collaboration set the stage for a more unified front against a common enemy, though underlying tensions remained between the factions.   #152 China Prepares for War Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Before we jump into the Second Sino-Japanese War of 1937-1945, which I honestly have no idea how long will take us, I thought it would be a good idea to dedicate two episodes to how both China and Japan prepared themselves for war.  Going all the way back to the 1910s, Chinese intellectuals began to view an outright conflict between Japan and China was inevitable. In the discussions about China's strategic options, Jiang Fangzhen pioneered a strategy of protracted warfare, a concept that would later shape China's approach during the Sino-Japanese War. Having studied in Japan during his youth, Jiang developed a keen understanding of the Japanese government and military. As early as 1917, he predicted that China and Japan would become embroiled in a long-term conflict, with the battleground likely to be west of the Peiping–Wuhan and Guangzhou–Wuhan railways. In his work titled "Guofang Lun" or “On National Defense”, Jiang reiterated the importance of protracted warfare as a means to thwart Japan's aspirations for a swift victory. He argued that China should leverage its vast population and extensive territory to extend the conflict, gradually wearing down Japanese strength and turning the situation to its advantage. Jiang recommended that China not focus on defending its coastal regions but instead confront the enemy west of the Peking–Wuhan Railway.   Chiang Kai-shek would eventually come to share Jiang's belief that “the longer the war drags on, the more advantageous it will be for China.” Despite significant public criticism, both the Nationalist government and General Zhang Xueliang, decided against military resistance when Japan invaded Manchuria in September 1931 and attacked Shanghai in 1932. Chiang was particularly hesitant to engage Japan directly, as he was also dealing with a Communist insurgency in central China. He feared that Chinese forces would suffer quick defeat, predicting that Japan would capture key coastal areas and critical infrastructure within just three days, crippling China by dismantling its military and economic lifelines. Following the invasion of North China Chiang was forced to adopt a firmer stance. The Nationalist government proposed a dual strategy of pursuing peace and security while simultaneously preparing for war. If peace proved impossible, China would mobilize its resources for ultimate victory through prolonged conflict. This approach was formalized in the National Defense Plan, which China adopted by prioritizing protracted warfare as its core strategy. After the Sino-Japanese clash in Shanghai on January 28, 1932, the Military Affairs Commission devised a plan that divided China into four defense areas along with a preparation area. While some troops were assigned local security, commanders were directed to concentrate their remaining forces for potential confrontations with Japan. That year, the Military Affairs Commission issued General Defense Guidelines that outlined two strategic responses to a potential Japanese invasion. The first, conservative approach focused on maintaining key positions and utilizing protracted warfare to impede the enemy. The second strategy advocated for decisive battles in key regions to thwart Japan's ambitions and protect China's territorial integrity, prioritizing disengagement from Japanese forces along the Yangtze River and coastline. In August 1935, German military adviser General Alexander von Falkenhausen provided recommendations to Chiang Kai-shek based on his predictions of Japanese advance routes into China. He identified three main routes: one from northern Hebei to Zhengzhou, the second from Shandong toward Xuzhou, and the third crossing the Yangtze River to Nanjing and onwards to Wuhan. He suggested treating the Yangtze River as the primary combat zone and highlighted Sichuan as a possible retreat area. Taking all of this into consideration. in 1936, a draft of a new National Defense Plan divided the country into four zones: a war zone, a defense zone, an internal security zone, and a preparation area. The war zone encompassed ten provinces and established strategies for retreating to predetermined defensive positions when necessary, with Sichuan designated as the main base for the war. In January 1937, the Chinese General Staff Department introduced its annual War Plan, outlining three possible military conflict regions between China and Japan. It proposed two main strategies: Proposal A emphasized sustained combat and retreat to fortified positions if the situation became unfavorable, aiming to eventually go on the offensive against Japan. Proposal B focused on repelling Japanese invasions along the coast and from the north, prioritizing counter offensives against Japanese units stationed near key locations. To prepare, the NRA completed several critical projects outlined in its plans, establishing military supply depots in Nanjing, Bengbu, Xinyang, Huayin, Nanchang, and Wuchang to manage logistics for supplies across various strategic railways. These depots were equipped to sustain the military, with ample ammunition and provisions, including 60 million rounds of small-arms ammunition and food for hundreds of thousands. Despite these preparations, not all projects were completed by the time war broke out in July 1937. In contrast to the Japanese military's tactics, Chinese forces prioritized defensive strategies. For example, at the Mount Lushan Military Officer Training Camp in July 1934, Chiang Kai-shek outlined four possible approaches against Japan, favoring a defense-as-offense strategy. Other options included building fortifications, tenaciously defending key positions, and employing guerrilla warfare through irregular forces to constrain enemy advances. Chiang stressed the importance of national mobilization for the war effort.  There was a significant disparity in equipment between the Japanese and Chinese armies. To give you an idea, each Japanese division included a mechanized group featuring thirty-nine light military vehicles and 21 light armored cars, supplemented by 6,000–7,000 horses, 200–300 automobiles, and specialized troops such as poison gas teams. In contrast, Nationalist divisions lacked any of these capabilities, a typical nationalist division theoretically had an armored regiment, but this unit was equipped with fewer than 72 armored vehicles. Another major weakness of the Nationalist forces was their insufficient artillery. In 1936, a division was officially assigned one artillery battalion, which was divided into three batteries totaling twelve guns. It also included a mechanized cannon company with four direct-fire weapons. By comparison, a Japanese division boasted four infantry regiments and one mountain artillery or field artillery regiment, with each artillery regiment comprising three field artillery battalions and one howitzer battalion. The infantry regiment itself included a mountain artillery section with four mountain guns, while the infantry battalion had one Type 70 mountain gun section with two guns. In total, a Japanese division possessed sixty-four artillery pieces of various calibers, four times the number of a Chinese division and of significantly higher quality. In reality, in 1936, twelve of the twenty elite Chinese “reformed divisions” still lacked artillery battalions. The ordnance available in the “reformed divisions” mostly consisted of the outdated Type 60 mountain gun. Nationwide, very few of the 200 divisions were equipped with any artillery, and those that did often used obsolete field artillery pieces or mountain artillery provided to local forces. Some units even relied on trench mortars as a makeshift solution. The artillery weapons came from various countries, but they frequently lacked necessary observation and signal components, and were often low on ammunition. The majority of mountain guns and field artillery were of the Type 75, which, while capable of providing fire support, had limited range and inflicted minimal damage. To give you an idea of the striking inadequacy of the Chinese artillery, during the Shanghai fighting in 1937, the mountain artillery of the Guangxi 21st Army Group could only reach targets within 1,200 yards, while Japanese field artillery had an effective range of 8,000 yards. Chinese-made mountain artillery suffered due to inferior steel-making technology; the gun shields were constructed from low-quality steel, and the barrels often overheated after firing just a few rounds, increasing the risk of explosions. Additionally, the equipment of local forces varied greatly in quality. In fact, some local units had superior equipment compared to Nationalist units. For example, before the Sino-Japanese War, troops from Yunnan were equipped with French antitank guns and heavy machine guns, which were better than the German water-cooled machine guns used by the Nationalist forces. However, the majority of local troops relied on inferior equipment; the 122nd Division under Wang Mingzhang from Sichuan, noted for its brave defense of Tengxian County during the Xuzhou Battle, was armed with locally produced light and heavy machine guns that frequently malfunctioned, and their Type 79 rifles, also made in Sichuan, were often outdated, with some dating back to the Qing Dynasty. These weapons had limited range and sometimes malfunctioned after fewer than one hundred rounds. Now before the war, both Nationalist and local forces acquired weaponry from diverse foreign and domestic sources. Even domestically produced weapons lacked standardization, with those made in Hanyang and Manchuria differing in design and specifications. Arms manufactured in Germany, France, Russia, Japan, and Italy were similarly inconsistent. Consequently, even within a single unit, the lack of uniformity created significant logistical challenges, undermining combat effectiveness, particularly in the early stages of the war. Despite Nationalist ordnance factories producing over three million rounds of small-arms ammunition daily, the incompatibility of ammunition and weapons diminished the usable quantity of ammunition. Chinese communications infrastructure was inadequate. In the Nationalist army, signal units were integrated into engineering units, leading to low-quality radio communications. In emergencies, telegrams could remain undelivered for days, and orders often had to be dispatched via postal services. By 1937, the entire country boasted only 3,000 military vehicles, necessitating heavy reliance on horses and mules for transport. To effectively equip twenty Nationalist divisions, 10,647 horses and 20,688 mules were needed, but by the end of 1935, only 6,206 horses and 4,351 mules were available. A statistic from 1936 indicated a 5 percent mortality rate among military horses, with some units experiencing a rate as high as 10 percent. The distribution of weaponry led to disputes during army reorganization efforts following the Northern Expedition. Although Chiang Kai-shek's forces were part of the regular army, the quality of their equipment varied significantly. Domestic production of weapons was limited, and imports could not close the gap. Priority was given to small arms; through army reorganization, Chiang aimed to diminish the influence of forces less loyal to him. Nationalist army staff officers observed that troops loyal to Chiang received the best weapons. Northwest and Northeast forces, having cultivated good relations with the KMT, were similarly better equipped, while Shanxi troops received inferior supplies. Troops associated with the Guangxi Clique were given even poorer quality weapons due to their leaders' stronger political ambitions. Troops regarded as “bandit forces,” such as those led by Shi Yousan, Li Hongchang, and Sun Dianying, were naturally assigned the least effective weaponry. This unequal distribution of arms increased some local forces' inclination to align with the KMT while alienating others, which inadvertently led to additional turmoil in the aftermath of the Northern Expedition. Logistical accounting within the Nationalist military was severely lacking. Military expenditures accounted for a significant portion of government spending, roughly 65.48 % in 1937, with personnel costs being the largest component. However, military units prioritized boosting their own resources over accurate accounting. Surpluses were not returned but rather utilized to reward military officers and soldiers for merits in battle, care for the wounded, or to create a reserve. Conversely, if deficits arose, troops would resort to “living off vacancies,” a practice in which they would fail to report desertions promptly and would falsely claim new soldiers had arrived. Military leaders typically appointed their most trusted subordinates to serve as accountants and logistic officers. As the war commenced, these issues became readily apparent. During the Battle of Shanghai in 1937, frontline soldiers sometimes went days without food and went months without pay. Wounded soldiers and civilians had to search tirelessly for medical treatment, and when main forces relocated, they often abandoned grain, ammunition, weapons, and petroleum along the way. General Chen Cheng, the commander in chief during the Battle of Shanghai, noted, “This phenomenon clearly revealed our inability to supply frontline troops, indicating that China remains a backward country with poor management.” Many logistical shortcomings severely impacted troop morale and combat effectiveness. In a 1933 speech, Chiang Kai-shek acknowledged that poor food, inadequate clothing, and ineffective logistics contributed to widespread desertion. Soldiers were further demoralized by reduced or embezzled salaries. A lack of professional medical staff and equipment hampered healthcare efforts, leading to high disease and mortality rates. According to official statistics from 1936, approximately 10 percent of soldiers fell ill annually, with a mortality rate as high as 5 percent. Japanese military authorities reported that one in three wounded Japanese soldiers died, while a Dutch military officer present during the early stages of the Sino-Japanese War observed that one in every two wounded Nationalist soldiers perished. Due to inadequate equipment and limited transport options, Nationalist forces were compelled to recruit farmers and rent vehicles, as they lacked essential facilities such as tents. This reliance on local resources inevitably led to frequent conflicts between military personnel and civilians. China is clearly a vast nation with an extensive coastline, requiring the construction of several significant fortresses during the modern era. These included Wusong, Jiangyin, Zhenjiang, Jiangning, and Wuhan along the Yangtze River, as well as Zhenhai, Humen, and Changzhou along the seacoast. Except for the Wuhan fortress, built in 1929-1930, all other fortifications were established during the late Qing Dynasty and featured uncovered cannon batteries. These fortresses suffered from inadequate maintenance, and many of their components had become outdated and irreplaceable, rendering them militarily negligible. Following the January 1932 Shanghai Incident, the Japanese military destroyed the Wusong forts, leaving the entrance to the Yangtze River completely unfortified. Consequently, there were no defenses along the coastline from Jiangsu to Shandong, allowing the Japanese to land freely. In December 1932, the Military Affairs Commission established a fortress group tasked with constructing fortresses and defensive installations, seeking assistance from German military advisers. After the North China Incident in 1935, the Nationalist government accelerated the construction of defensive structures in line with national war planning, focusing particularly on Nanjing. The Nationalists prioritized building fortifications along the seacoast and the Yellow River, followed by key regions north of the Yellow River. The government also ordered a significant quantity of heavy artillery from Germany. This included several dozen pieces of flat-fire antiaircraft and dual-purpose heavy artillery, which were installed at fortifications in Jiangyin, Zhenjiang, Nanjing, and Wuhan. By the summer of 1937, the construction of nine fortified positions was complete: Nanjing, Zhenjiang, Jiangyin, Ningbo, Humen, Mawei, Xiamen , Nantong, and Lianyungang. In total, China had established 41 forts and equipped them with 273 fortress cannons. Some defensive installations were poorly managed, with many units assigned to their perimeters lacking training and access to proper maps. The barbette positions in the fortresses were not well concealed and could hardly store sufficient ammunition. Troops stationed at these fortresses received little training. Despite these shortcomings, the fortresses and fortifications were not entirely ineffective. They bolstered Chinese positions along the defense line stretching from Cangxian County to Baoding and from Dexian County to Shijiazhuang, as well as in southern Shandong.  Before the war, China's political and economic center was situated along the seacoast and the Yangtze River. As Japanese influence expanded, the Nationalist government was compelled to establish bases in China's inner regions, very similar to how the USSR pulled back its industry further west after Operation barbarossa.The Japanese attack on Shanghai in 1932 prompted the Nationalists to relocate their capital to Luoyang. On March 5, during the Second Plenary Session of the KMT's Fourth Congress, the Western Capital Preparation Committee was formed to plan for the potential relocation of all governmental bodies to Xi'an in the event of full-scale war. In February 1933, the Central Political Conference approved the Northwest Development Bill, and in February 1934, the National Economic Commission set up a northwestern branch to oversee development projects in the region. On October 18, 1934, Chiang Kai-shek traveled to Lanzhou, recording in his diary that “Northwest China has abundant resources. Japan and Russia are poised to bully us. Yet, if we strengthen ourselves and develop northwest China to the fullest extent, we can turn it into a base for China's revival.” Interestingly, it was Sichuan, rather than the northwest, that became China's rear base during the 2nd Sino-Japanese War. In October 1934, the Communist army evacuated its Soviet base in southern China, initiating the Long March that would ultimately end in the northwest. By this time, Chiang Kai-shek had decided to designate Sichuan as the last stronghold for China. In January 1935, the Nanchang Field Headquarters of the Military Affairs Commission, responsible for combatting the Communists and serving as the supreme military and political authority over most provinces along the Yangtze River and central China, dispatched a special advisory group to Chongqing. Following this, the Nationalist army advanced into Sichuan. On February 10, the Nationalists appointed a new provincial government in Sichuan, effectively ending the province's long-standing regionalism. On March 2, Chiang traveled to Chongqing, where he delivered a speech underscoring that “Sichuan should serve as the base for China's revival.” He stated that he was in Sichuan to oversee efforts against the Communist army and to unify the provincial administration.  After the Xinhai revolution, the Republic of China was still suing the Qing Dynasty's conscription system. However, once in power, the Nationalist government sought to establish a national military service program. In 1933, it enacted a military service law, which began implementation in 1936. This law categorized military service into two branches: service in the Nationalist army and in territorial citizen army units. Men aged eighteen to forty-five were expected to serve in the territorial units if they did not enlist in the Nationalist army. The territorial service was structured into three phases: active service lasting two to three years, first reserves for six years, and second reserves until the age of forty-five. The Ministry of Military Affairs divided China into sixty divisional conscription headquarters, initially establishing these headquarters in the six provinces of Jiangsu, Zhejiang, Anhui, Jiangxi, Henan, and Hubei. By December 1936, approximately 50,000 new soldiers had been drafted. The military service law disproportionately favored the middle and upper classes. Government personnel were exempt from enlistment, allowing privileged families to register their children with government agencies. Similarly, students in middle and higher education were excused from service, while youth from poorer backgrounds often felt compelled to enlist due to financial constraints that limited their educational opportunities. Village and town leaders were responsible for executing the recruitment process and frequently conspired with army recruiters. Recruitment principles often favored wealthier families, with guidelines stating that one son should be drafted for every three sons, two for five sons, but no drafts if there was only one son. Wealthy families could secure exemptions for all their male children, while poor families might see their only son conscripted if they were unable to provide the requisite bribe. Town and village heads wielded significant power in recruitment. This new recruitment system also created numerous money-making opportunities. Military personnel assigned to escort draftees to their units would often allow draftees to escape for a fee. Additionally, draftees could monetize their service by agreeing to serve as substitutes for others. For some, being drafted became an occupation. For example, in 1936, 600 individuals were drafted in the Wuhu area of Anhui province, and accounts from regional administrators indicated that every draftee had either been traded, replaced, or seized. Beginning in 1929, the Nationalist government also instituted military training for high school students and older individuals. Students were required to participate in one theoretical class and one practical class each week, totaling three hours. Starting in 1934, students had to complete a three-month military training program before graduating. Graduates of military academies were employed as military instructors. By the end of 1936, over 237,000 high school students had undergone military training. This student military training was overseen by the Society for the Implementation of the Three People's Principles of Sun Yat-sen, which also provided political education and sometimes gathered information on students' political beliefs.  Although the Nationalists made significant efforts to improve the military training of both officers and troops, they inherited deep-seated challenges that they were unable to completely overcome. A lack of facilities, outdated training manuals, low regard for military instructors, and the ongoing influence of regionalism and warlordism hindered progress. The Japanese would also later exploit these shortcomings of the Nationalist army. The Central Military Academy, which evolved from the Whampoa Military Academy established in 1923 in Guangzhou to train officers for the Northern Expedition, became the primary training institution for junior military officers. The academy offered a basic course, lasting eighteen months, which included general education, specialized training in various subjects, and field practice. This was followed by a two-year cadet training program focused on developing the skills necessary for junior military officers. Seventeen classes were admitted before the outbreak of war. Admission to the academy was highly competitive, with military officers receiving attractive salaries. For instance, in 1935, the academy received 10,000 applications for the twelfth class, but only 7% were accepted. Upon graduation, cadets were typically assigned to divisions within the Nationalist army loyal to Chiang Kai-shek. Their training, influenced by German advisors, resulted in a high-quality cadre. In modern China, most sergeants were veterans. While some units provided training for sergeants, a lack of formal education led to their diminished status. Truly qualified sergeants were rare. During his tenure as Minister of Military Training, General Bai Chongxi proposed establishing a sergeant school and creating a professional noncommissioned officer system; however, the Ministry of Military Affairs opposed this on financial grounds. While commanding officers enjoyed rapid promotions, military instructors did not. Furthermore, there was no system for transferring instructors to field commands or assigning commanders to military academies for extended periods. Despite minor updates to cover modern warfare concepts such as tank warfare and machine guns, Qing Dynasty military manuals were still in use at the Central Military Academy at the start of the war. Yeah, 1937 they were still rocking the old Qing books. Following the establishment of the Ministry of Military Training, a bureau for military translation was set up to evaluate existing course materials and translate military manuals, but its contributions were limited. Another significant shortcoming of military instruction focused on theory at the expense of practical application.  To enhance the quality of military officers, the Nationalist army instituted specialized schools for artillery, infantry, transport, engineering, and signals starting in 1931. These institutions were considered to have high-quality administrators and facilities. The Nationalists adopted German military training models, replacing the previously used Japanese models. They appointed German advisors to oversee instructor training at military academies and established three instructional divisions. By the onset of the Sino-Japanese War, 15,000 students had graduated from programs with a German military influence, resulting in the creation of about fifty combat divisions from these instructional units. However, the progress of other Nationalist army units was limited because their training was not aligned with contemporary battlefield realities. Before World War I, troops operated in close formations due to limited firepower. The widespread introduction of machine guns after World War I necessitated a shift to dispersed formations. Although a new drill manual issued by the Ministry of Military Training in 1935 introduced small-group tactics, few units adopted these methods. General Chen Cheng highlighted another underlying issue in 1938, commenting on the outmoded focus on parade ground drills and formal military manners. He noted, “We have paid too much attention to stereotypical formality and procedures of no practical use. Sometimes, even though soldiers could not get a haircut or take a bath for several months, their camps had to be in order. They underwent intensive training in close-order drill but learned little about gun handling, marksmanship, or maneuvering. This was inappropriate in peacetime, yet we continued this practice even after the Sino-Japanese War started, even using it on highly educated youth.” In contrast, the Communist army simplified training, emphasizing two essential skills: live-fire exercises and physical endurance, which significantly enhanced troop effectiveness in the challenging terrain characteristic of the Sino-Japanese War. Ultimately, the Nationalist army's training did not reach all soldiers. Only about half of all combat soldiers received adequate training, while the rest were neglected. According to statistics from the time, there were approximately five million military personnel during the Sino-Japanese War, with three million serving in logistics. Most of these logistics personnel had received little training, leading to disastrous consequences for overall combat effectiveness. As warfare has become more complex, the role of highly trained staff officers has become increasingly important. Napoleon developed operational plans close to the front and communicated orders via courier. During World War I, military commanders collected information at their headquarters and utilized telephones and automobiles to relay orders to the front lines. In World War II, with the battlefield expanding to include land, sea, and air, senior commanders often made decisions from headquarters far from the action, relying on a significant number of staff officers with specialized skills to keep them informed. In China, however, the staff officer system was underdeveloped. By 1937, only about 2,000 commanders and staff officers had received training. Prior to the Sino-Japanese War, most commanders managed staff work themselves, with staff officers serving primarily as military secretaries who drafted orders, reports, and maps. Many staff officers had no formal military training, and as a whole, the branch lacked respect, causing the most talented officers to avoid serving in it. The situation was even more dire for staff officer departments within local forces. For example, in March 1937, Liu Ziqing, a graduate of the Whampoa Military Academy, was appointed as the director of political instruction in the Forty-fourth Army, a unit under Sichuan warlord Liu Xiang. Liu Ziqing's account illustrates the dysfunction within the ranks: “The commander in chief was not supposed to manage the army and even did not know its whereabouts... But he could appoint relatives and former subordinates—who were officials and businessmen as well—to the army. Each month they would receive a small stipend. At headquarters, there was a long table and two rows of chairs. Around ten o'clock in the morning, senior officers signed in to indicate their presence. Those with other business would leave, while the remaining officers sat down to leisurely discuss star actresses, fortune-telling, business projects, mah-jongg, and opium. Occasionally they would touch on national affairs, chat about news articles, or share local gossip. In the afternoons, they primarily played mah-jongg, held banquets, and visited madams. Most mornings, the commander usually presided over these activities, and at first, I reported for duty as well. But I soon realized it was a waste of time and came very rarely. At headquarters, most staff members wore long gowns or Western-style suits, while military uniforms were a rare sight.” Most senior military personnel were trained at the Baoding Military Academy during the early republic. 2/3rds of commanders in chief, 37 %of army commanders, and 20 % of division commanders were Baoding graduates. Higher-ranking officers were more likely to have launched their careers there. In contrast, only 10 % of division commanders and a few army commanders were graduates of the Whampoa Military Academy. Additionally, commanders trained in local military schools and those with combat experience accounted for 1/3rd of all commanders. While the prevalence of civil war provided opportunities for rapid promotion, it also hindered officers' ability to update their training or gain experience in different military branches. German advisors expressed their concerns to Chiang Kai-shek, emphasizing that officers should first serve in junior roles before taking command. During one battle in 1938, Chiang noted, “Our commanders in chief are equivalent only to our enemy's regiment commanders, and our army and division commanders are only as competent as our enemy's battalion and company commanders.” Despite not viewing high-ranking Japanese officers as great strategists, Nationalist officers respected them as highly competent, diligent, and professional commanders who rarely made critical errors. The infantry was the primary component of the Nationalist army, with middle and junior infantry officers constituting over 80 %of all army officers. A 1936 registry of military officers listed 1,105 colonels and 2,159 lieutenant colonels within the infantry, demonstrating a significant outnumbering of Baoding graduates at ranks below lieutenant colonel. However, the quality of middle and junior infantry officers declined during the Sino-Japanese War; by 1944, only 27.3 % of these officers were from formal military academies, while those promoted from the ranks increased to 28.1 %. In 1937, 80 % of officers in an ordinary infantry battalion were military academy graduates, but this percentage dropped to 20 % during the war. Its hard to tell how educated soldiers were before the war, but it is generally believed that most were illiterate. In 1929, sociologist Tao Menghe surveyed 946 soldiers from a Shanxi garrison brigade and found that only 13 percent could compose a letter independently, while the rest had either never learned to read or were unable to write. In contrast, in August 1938, General Feng Yuxiang found that 80 percent of a regiment in Hunan were literate. Regardless, during the Sino-Japanese War, the quality of recruits steadily declined. More than 90 percent of soldiers were illiterate, and few possessed any basic scientific knowledge, which hindered their ability to master their weapons. On the battlefield, they heavily relied on middle and junior officers for guidance.  In autumn 1933, General Hans von Seeckt, the architect of the post World War I German army, visited China at the personal invitation of Chiang Kai-shek. In his recommendations for military reform, he identified China's greatest problem as its excessively large forces drawn from diverse backgrounds. He stated, “At present, the most pressing goal is to... establish a small, well-equipped army with high morale and combat effectiveness to replace the numerous poorly armed and trained forces.” He suggested forming an army of sixty divisions and recommended the establishment of a training regiment for military officers to equip them with the skills needed for modern warfare. Chiang Kai-shek accepted von Seeckt's proposals, and on January 26, 1935, he convened a National Military Reorganization Conference in Nanjing. On March 1, the Army Reorganization Bureau was established in Wuchang, under the leadership of General Chen Cheng. In the same month, General Alexander von Falkenhausen took charge of the German Military Advisors Group. Before war broke out, around nineteen divisions, roughly 300,000 troops received training from German advisors and were equipped with German-style weapons. At the onset of the Sino-Japanese War, the forces stemming from the First Army of the National Revolutionary Army and the Whampoa cadets, who had fought in the Northern Expedition, held the highest reputation and were referred to as the “core central forces” by the Japanese. Other notable forces included the Guangxi Army, Northwestern Army, Northeastern Army, some Uyghur units, the Guangdong Army, and the Shanxi Army. In contrast, provincial forces such as the Yunnan Army and Sichuan Army were viewed less favorably. Nationalist forces were generally far inferior to those of the Japanese enemy. In 1937, General He Yingqin noted that Nationalist forces had failed to prevail in 1932 and 1933, even when outnumbering the Japanese by 4-1.  In November 1937, during a national defense conference, Chiang Kai-shek stated, "In recent years we have worked hard, prepared actively, and achieved national unification. By the time of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, we were in a better domestic situation and had improved military preparedness compared to before. Since 1935, our strength has doubled. It increased by more than two to three times since January 1932 or September 1931 [when Japan attacked Shanghai and Mukden]. If peace had been achievable, we should have delayed the war for two or three years. Given an additional three years, our defensive capabilities would have been drastically different... Now, if we merely compare the military strength of China and Japan, we are certainly inferior." However, such assessments were overly optimistic, as Chiang failed to recognize that Japan's military capabilities would not have stagnated. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. Generalissimo Chiang Kai-Shek certainly was dealt a difficult hand of cards for the upcoming poker match he was to play. Yet the Chinese were resilient and they had to be for the absolute horror that would be inflicted upon them from 1937-1945. Until this point, their enemies had been far more lenient, the Empire of Japan would show no mercy.

Leaving behind the imperial court of Beijing, we return to the far frontiers of the northwest, where China, Tibet, Mongolia, and Russia all converge and vie for power. Glory and riches to the victors, subjugation or death for those destined to lose. Into this mix, we follow the travels of three emissaries as they cross deserts, mountains, words, and wits to ensure their sovereign emerges on top. Time Period Covered: ~1712~1724 CE Major Historical Figures: Dzungar Khannate: Tsewang Rabdan Tsarist Russia: Tsar Peter I Leon Vasielevich Izmailov Captain Ivan Unkovskii John Bell Governor Gragarin of Siberia Glazunov Great Qing Empire: The Kangxi Emperor [r. -1722] The Yongzheng Emperor [r. 1722-17] Tulisen Mongols: Ayuki Khan of the Torghuts [r. 1673-1724] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Yongzheng Emperor brings Peace, Justice, & Security to his new Empire. Time Period Covered: 1723-1728 CE Major Works Cited: Perdue, Peter C. China marches west: the Qing conquest of Central Eurasia. Qin, Han Tang (秦漢唐). 不同於戲裡說的雍正皇帝 [A different Yongzheng from the work of fiction]  Rowe, William T. China's last empire: the great Qing. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

It's considered to be the bloodiest civil war in history, but there's a fair chance you've never heard of it. The Taiping Rebellion convulsed China from 1850 to 1864, leading to over 20 million deaths and severely weakening the Qing dynasty, but it remains little known outside of China today. Speaking to Rob Attar, Professor Stephen R Platt answers listener questions about the rebellion and explains why it hasn't received the attention it deserves. EXCLUSIVE NordVPN Deal ➼ https://nordvpn.com/hepod Try it risk-free now with a 30-day money-back guarantee! The HistoryExtra podcast is produced by the team behind BBC History Magazine. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices