The Making of a Late Qing Power Broker

The year 1860 marked a pivotal moment for 37-year-old Li Hongzhang, then a minor official whose career had been shaped by his association with the influential statesman Zeng Guofan. Born in 1823 to a scholarly family in Hefei, Li demonstrated early promise—earning his civil service degrees by age 23. His entry into Zeng’s inner circle came through the traditional “nianjiazi” connection (sons of officials who passed imperial exams together), but Li would soon prove his worth beyond nepotism.

The mentor-protégé relationship fractured over strategic disagreements during the Taiping Rebellion. Li boldly challenged Zeng’s decision to station headquarters at Qimen, arguing its vulnerability—a prediction vindicated when Taiping forces nearly overran the position. Their second clash involved Li’s defense of another official facing censure, revealing Li’s growing confidence in his own judgment. This temporary rupture foreshadowed Li’s eventual independence from his mentor’s shadow.

The Merciless Strategist: The 1863 Suzhou Massacre

By 1863, Li had risen to Governor of Jiangsu, commanding the formidable Huai Army. The brutal “Suzhou Incident” demonstrated his ruthless pragmatism. After coaxing eight Taiping commanders to betray their leader Tan Shaoguang with promises of amnesty, Li executed them during a banquet and slaughtered 20,000 surrendered rebels.

The aftermath exposed Li’s deft handling of international optics. When British officer Charles Gordon threatened duel over this betrayal, Li avoided confrontation while strategically disbursing silver—80,000 taels to Gordon’s forces and 10,000 personally—to quell Western outrage. This episode reveals the paradox of Li’s methods: simultaneously advancing China’s stability while compromising its moral standing.

The Political Chess Master: The Race for Nanjing

The 1864 siege of Nanjing (Tianjing), the Taiping capital, became a test of Li’s political acumen. Despite imperial orders to assist Zeng Guofan’s besieging forces, Li deliberately held back—recognizing that claiming this victory would undermine his mentor. His theatrical troop movements and carefully worded letter to Zeng’s brother sparked the final assault, preserving Zeng family honor while demonstrating Li’s understanding of bureaucratic face-saving.

Contemporary observers noted this episode exemplified why “Zeng knew men, Zuo waged war, but Li mastered officialdom”—a testament to his unrivaled political instincts during the Qing dynasty’s decline.

Visionary Against the Tide: China’s Industrial Pioneer

The 1881 Tangxu Railway epitomized Li’s struggle to modernize China against conservative resistance. His 9.7 km “horse-drawn railway” between Tangshan and Xugezhuang—disguised as a carriage road—became China’s first domestically built track. When conservatives protested trains might disturb imperial tombs 100 km away, Li temporarily used livestock to pull cars, waiting for pragmatism to overcome prejudice.

Beyond railways, Li spearheaded China’s early industrialization: establishing three of four major arsenals (Jiangnan, Tianjin, and Nanjing), founding pioneering enterprises like China Merchants Steam Navigation Company, and introducing telegraph lines. While these ventures enriched his family, they laid infrastructure crucial for China’s later development.

The Humiliated Peacemaker: Shimonoseki and Beyond

The 1895 Treaty of Shimonoseki following China’s defeat in the First Sino-Japanese War became Li’s most infamous diplomatic moment. His facial wound from a Japanese assassin’s bullet—left untreated in his elderly body—became both personal torment and negotiating leverage, reducing indemnities from 300 to 200 million taels.

Li’s subsequent refusal to set foot in Japan, even perilously crossing ships via plank at age 73, symbolized his embittered nationalism. As he predicted in his “collage house” metaphor, late Qing China’s structural weaknesses made temporary fixes impossible—a reality he confronted through unequal treaties like the 1901 Boxer Protocol, signed months before his death.

Conclusion: The Measure of a Man in His Time

From ambitious youth (“Who will write history these ten thousand years?”) to despairing elder (“Autumn wind, precious sword, a lone minister’s tears”), Li’s trajectory mirrored China’s traumatic modernization. Neither wholly villain nor hero, his legacy endures in debates about pragmatism versus principle in governance—a figure who both delayed collapse and exposed systemic failures of China’s last imperial dynasty.