The Gathering Storm Over Korea

In the summer of 1894, tensions between Qing China and Meiji Japan reached a boiling point over control of Korea, a kingdom long caught in the crossfire of regional power struggles. The crisis unfolded against a backdrop of imperial decay and rising nationalism—China’s Qing Dynasty, weakened by internal rebellions and foreign encroachments, faced an increasingly assertive Japan, freshly modernized after the Meiji Restoration.

At the heart of the conflict stood two figures: Emperor Guangxu, the young Qing ruler eager to assert authority, and Li Hongzhang, the veteran statesman who practically managed China’s foreign and military affairs. When the Grand Council and Zongli Yamen (Qing’s foreign ministry) concluded that avoiding war was the only viable option, Guangxu erupted in frustration. Court whispers revealed his desire to punish Li and the Beiyang Fleet—yet, as insiders knew, the emperor’s power was illusory without the approval of Empress Dowager Cixi.

The Fractured Qing Response

On July 17, 1894 (lunar June 15), Vice Minister of Rites Zhi Rui delivered a scathing memorial condemning Li Hongzhang’s reliance on foreign mediation:

“First, we depended on the Russians; when they failed, we turned to the British. If the British cannot help, whom shall we beg next?”

Zhi’s critique exposed Qing diplomacy’s fatal flaw—its passive, reactive strategy. Yet even Li, initially opposed to war, recognized the inevitability of conflict. He ordered troop mobilizations and fast ships from Britain, only to be hamstrung by Beijing’s factional infighting. Japanese Foreign Minister Mutsu Munemitsu later observed in Kenkenroku:

“Li Hongzhang was undoubtedly the architect of this crisis… Yet with the nation’s survival at stake, Beijing’s petty political games left him shackled. This was Li’s tragedy—and China’s self-inflicted wound.”

The Escape of Yuan Shikai

As tensions escalated, the Qing’s top official in Korea, Yuan Shikai, found himself trapped in Seoul. By July 18, Li secured approval to recall Yuan, replacing him with Tang Shaoyi. That night, the two men drank in near-empty quarters, surrounded by unseen threats.

“We’re completely encircled—you just don’t see it!” Yuan insisted, paranoid about Japanese spies and vengeful Donghak rebels. On July 19, he disguised himself as an elderly man (a nod to Korea’s reverence for age) and fled to Incheon, later boarding the warship Pingyuan. His parting words—”Ten years… I’ll never return”—marked the end of Qing influence in Korea.

Military Maneuvers and Miscalculations

Meanwhile, Qing commander Ye Zhichao refused orders to relocate his 2,000 troops from Asan to Pyongyang, arguing their position could disrupt Japanese supply lines. Li Hongzhang scrambled to send reinforcements—1,300 soldiers sailed from Tianjin on British-chartered ships Airin and Feijing on July 21, the same day Yuan arrived back in China.

Japan, however, had already seized the initiative. On July 19—Yuan’s escape day—Minister Ōtori Keisuke presented Korea with four ultimatums, including demands to expel Qing forces and annull “unequal” Sino-Korean treaties. The deadline: July 22.

The Illusion of Mediation

Britain’s final mediation attempt on July 19 exposed the diplomatic charade. Foreign Minister Mutsu, confident London wouldn’t intervene militarily, set impossible terms: Qing China must accept Japan’s unilateral reforms in Korea without objection—and respond within five days. When Britain protested, Mutsu coldly dismissed the 1885 Tianjin Treaty’s relevance.

By July 23, Britain’s real concern emerged: protecting Shanghai. Mutsu’s relief was palpable—the British only wanted neutrality for their commercial hub. The road to war was clear.

The Emperor’s Hesitation and Japan’s Resolve

Even Emperor Meiji briefly hesitated, questioning whether all peaceful options were exhausted. Mutsu’s symbolic addition to Ōtori’s orders—”only proceed if deemed appropriate”—changed nothing. Japan’s military machine was already in motion.

Legacy: The Unraveling of an Empire

The 1894 crisis exposed Qing China’s fatal disunity—a reformist emperor without real power, a pragmatic statesman undermined by court factions, and a military unprepared for modern warfare. Japan’s victory in the ensuing First Sino-Japanese War shattered East Asia’s old order, heralding Korea’s colonization and China’s “century of humiliation.”

For Yuan Shikai, the humiliating escape from Seoul became a personal turning point—one that would later drive his militaristic rise. And for Li Hongzhang, the crisis culminated in the Treaty of Shimonoseki (1895), where he took the bullet—literally and politically—for a dying empire.

The lessons of 1894 resonate beyond history books: when diplomacy becomes a game of bluff, and military readiness lags behind ambition, the price is often paid in sovereignty.