The Rise of the Manchus and Their Military Culture

The early Qing rulers—Nurhaci, Hong Taiji, and Dorgon—were products of a warrior society that valued conquest and subjugation. Emerging from the Jurchen tribes of Manchuria, the Later Jin (later Qing) state was built on a foundation of military discipline and expansion. Nurhaci, the dynasty’s founder, unified the Jurchen tribes through a combination of alliances and ruthless suppression of dissent. His successors inherited this ethos, viewing military dominance as essential to their survival and legitimacy.

The Manchus’ approach to warfare was shaped by their steppe traditions, where total victory often meant the annihilation of enemy resistance. Unlike the Confucian ideal of benevolent rule, the early Qing leadership prioritized terror as a tool of control. Historical records, including local gazetteers and private accounts, document the systematic massacres carried out during their campaigns—particularly against Han Chinese populations who resisted their rule.

Massacres as Policy: From Liaodong to Central China

Nurhaci’s campaigns in Liaodong (modern Liaoning) set a grim precedent. Following uprisings or prolonged sieges, entire communities—regardless of their involvement in resistance—were slaughtered or enslaved. Hong Taiji continued this pattern during his invasions of the Ming dynasty’s heartland, launching three major raids into Hebei and Shandong between 1629 and 1638. These expeditions were marked by indiscriminate killings, pillaging, and the abduction of civilians into bondage.

The most infamous atrocities occurred under Dorgon’s regency after the Qing captured Beijing in 1644. Initially, Dorgon sought to win over Ming loyalists by presenting the Qing as restorers of order. However, this facade collapsed in 1645 when he ordered the brutal suppression of Yangzhou and Jiading—episodes now known as the Ten Days of Yangzhou and the Jiading Massacres. Contemporary accounts describe streets choked with corpses and survivors sold into slavery.

Similar atrocities followed elsewhere:
– 1649: The razing of Xiangtan, Hunan, by Prince Jirgalang after a prolonged siege.
– 1649-1650: The wholesale slaughter in Shanxi following the revolt of Ming turncoat Jiang Xiang.
– 1650: The massacre of Guangzhou by Shang Kexi and Geng Jimao, where civilians were butchered despite offers of surrender.

The Rhetoric of Just Rule and Its Contradictions

The Qing court justified its violence through a paternalistic rhetoric. In 1649, Dorgon declared, “The ruler is like a father, the people like children. Would a father harm his sons without cause?” Yet weeks later, he ordered the extermination of Datong’s population for resisting. Official edicts framed massacres as “punishing the guilty,” but in practice, surrender often failed to guarantee mercy.

Emperor Shunzhi later blamed Dorgon for excesses, yet the policy of collective punishment persisted. Military commanders like Wu Sangui were reprimanded for sparing prisoners, revealing a systemic preference for terror over reconciliation.

Cultural Trauma and Resistance

The massacres left deep scars on Han society. Survivors’ testimonies, such as those preserved in Ji Cheng’s Yangzhou Ten Days Diary, became underground texts, fueling anti-Qing sentiment. Even Ji Yun, a Qing court scholar under the repressive Qianlong reign, hinted at his family’s suffering in Notes from the Yuewei Cottage—a rare admission in an era of strict censorship.

This brutality backfired politically. Rather than cowing the population, it galvanized resistance. The Southern Ming movement, peasant revolts like the She-An Rebellion, and clandestine networks like the Tiandihui (Heaven and Earth Society) drew strength from stories of Qing atrocities.

Legacy: From Bloodshed to Revisionist Histories

By the Kangxi era (1661–1722), the Qing shifted tactics, emphasizing Confucian governance and ethnic integration. The earlier violence was downplayed in official histories, but folk memory endured. Today, the massacres remain contentious. Nationalist narratives in China highlight them as evidence of foreign oppression, while some scholars argue they reflect broader 17th-century warfare trends.

The early Qing’s brutality underscores a central paradox: conquests often demands violence, but lasting rule requires consent. The dynasty’s eventual success hinged on abandoning the very policies that defined its rise.

### Why This History Matters

Understanding these events challenges simplistic portrayals of the Qing as either enlightened unifiers or alien oppressors. It reveals how empires balance coercion and legitimacy—a dynamic relevant to global discussions about colonialism and state power. The scars of the 1640s also remind us how historical trauma shapes collective identity, resonating in modern debates over memory and justice.