A Statesman’s Perilous Journey

In 1896, Li Hongzhang, the eminent Qing dynasty statesman and diplomat, embarked on a historic journey to attend the coronation of Tsar Nicholas II in Russia. His travels, however, extended far beyond St. Petersburg, taking him across Europe and eventually to the United States. What began as a diplomatic mission soon became a revealing chronicle of cultural encounters, personal discomfort, and political observations.

Li’s voyage was fraught with physical challenges. From the moment he boarded the transatlantic steamer, he battled what he termed “gastric disturbances”—blaming rich German cuisine and Bismarck’s court beer. His disdain for Western medicine was evident when he dismissed the ship doctor’s diagnosis of seasickness, insisting instead on the superiority of traditional Chinese remedies. His irritability during the voyage, as noted by his entourage, underscored the toll of prolonged travel on a man accustomed to imperial comforts.

Encounters with the New World

Upon arriving in New York, Li was met with an overwhelming reception. American journalists, whom he likened to “clever young men who could disarm even the fiercest enemy with laughter,” swarmed his ship before docking. Unlike the stiff formalities of European courts, the American press treated him with a refreshing informality, which initially perplexed but ultimately charmed him.

Li’s observations of New York were a mix of awe and discomfort. The towering skyscrapers, which he compared to “enemy fortifications,” unnerved him, yet he marveled at the democratic spirit of the people. The city’s exuberant welcome—flags bearing dragons, cheering crowds—left a deep impression, reinforcing his belief in America’s potential as a future ally, despite its harsh exclusion laws against Chinese immigrants.

Diplomatic Courtesies and Cultural Missteps

Li’s interactions with Western elites revealed both cultural bridges and divides. His meeting with President Grover Cleveland was marked by mutual respect, though their conversation took a humorous turn when discussing marital customs. Cleveland jested that managing one American wife required the effort of “sixteen or eighteen Chinese women,” a remark that left the president in tears of laughter.

Yet Li’s earlier faux pas in Russia—presenting the tsarina with a jade ring instead of kissing her hand—highlighted the pitfalls of cross-cultural diplomacy. His later reflection, “One learns something new every day,” spoke to his adaptability, a trait honed over decades of navigating imperial and foreign courts.

The Pilgrimage to Grant’s Tomb

One of the most poignant moments of Li’s journey was his visit to the tomb of Ulysses S. Grant. The two men, both instrumental in quelling rebellions (Li against the Taiping, Grant in the Civil War), shared a bond that transcended nationality. At Grant’s graveside, Li—ordinarily stoic—was moved to tears, offering incense and prayers. He later reflected that no foreigner had ever been, or would ever be, honored in China as Grant would have been.

This pilgrimage also stirred memories of the assassination attempt Li survived during the Treaty of Shimonoseki negotiations. In that moment of crisis, his thoughts had turned to Grant, whose diplomatic intervention in earlier Sino-Japanese tensions had left a lasting legacy.

Reflections on Power and Legacy

Li’s writings reveal a man deeply aware of his place in history. His pride in China’s civilization was tempered by frustration at its international marginalization. The irony of his lavish reception in America—a nation that barred ordinary Chinese—was not lost on him. He mused that only his high status shielded him from the discrimination faced by his countrymen, a disparity he hoped might one day change.

His encounters with Western modernity left him ambivalent. While admiring American dynamism, he questioned its chaotic urbanism and the unchecked power of the press. Yet he also recognized the West’s technological and organizational superiority, a lesson he carried back to a China on the brink of transformation.

The Enduring Relevance of Li’s Journey

Li Hongzhang’s 1896 voyage stands as a microcosm of China’s late 19th-century struggles: a civilization balancing tradition and modernization, seeking respect in an unequal global order. His diaries—by turns witty, cranky, and profound—offer a rare personal lens on the era’s geopolitical shifts.

Today, as China and the West navigate renewed tensions, Li’s reflections on mutual understanding, dignity, and the pitfalls of cultural arrogance remain strikingly relevant. His journey reminds us that diplomacy is as much about human connection as it is about power—a lesson etched in the pages of his transatlantic odyssey.