A Revolutionary Ascent in a Man’s World

Wu Zetian (624–705 CE) shattered the ultimate glass ceiling of imperial China by becoming its only female emperor. Her rise from concubine to sovereign defied Confucian gender norms, unfolding against the backdrop of the Tang Dynasty’s golden age. The daughter of a timber merchant, she entered Emperor Taizong’s harem at 14, later captivating his successor Gaozong with her political acumen. After Gaozong’s stroke in 660, Wu effectively ruled as co-emperor, establishing networks of informants and eliminating rivals like the influential Wang clan. Her 690 proclamation as emperor of the new Zhou Dynasty marked the climax of a 30-year power consolidation—a feat unimaginable in China’s patriarchal system.

The Dual Edges of Power

Wu’s 15-year reign (690–705) presents historians with striking paradoxes. Economically, Tang households nearly doubled from 3.8 to 6.15 million under her stewardship, while the Luoyang grain reserves swelled to 72,500 tons—evidenced by the 1971 excavation of the colossal Hanjia Granary. Yet this prosperity coexisted with the collapse of the equal-field system, as peasants fled oppressive taxes to become tenant farmers or urban laborers.

Politically, she revolutionized governance by expanding the civil exam system, famously promoting talent like Zhang Jiazen from obscurity to chancellor. Simultaneously, her reign saw the terror of the “Cruel Officials” like Lai Junchen, whose secret police executed thousands in a climate of suspicion. The 684 rebellion of Xu Jingye, suppressed with 500 decapitations, exemplified her ruthless consolidation tactics.

Cultural Transformation and Its Costs

Wu’s cultural patronage left enduring marks. She elevated Buddhism to state religion, commissioning the Longmen Grottoes’ colossal Vairocana Buddha—its face allegedly modeled after her own. The “Robing the Poet” incident at Dragon Gate, where she famously stripped a robe from one courtier to award superior verse by Song Zhiwen, epitomized her literary enthusiasm. By 715, Tang children would “feel shame if ignorant of letters,” as scholar-officials eclipsed aristocratic warlords.

This cultural flowering came at a military price. The overemphasis on civil exams eroded martial values, forcing reliance on Turkic generals like An Lushan—a vulnerability that later fueled the catastrophic An Lushan Rebellion (755–763). Her 695 invasion of Korea, though successful, drained resources and revealed declining Han military leadership.

The Silent Stone That Speaks Volumes

Wu’s 705 abdication under palace coup began her complex legacy journey. Her blank stele at Qianling Mausoleum—a 7.88-meter monolith beside Gaozong’s inscribed pillar—became the ultimate Rorschach test for historians. Early Tang records praised her administrative reforms, while Song Dynasty Confucians like Zhu Xi condemned her as “defying natural order.” The Ming-Qing transition scholar Wang Fuzhi branded her “hated by gods and men alike,” yet 20th-century feminists reclaimed her as a proto-suffragist.

Modern archaeology reveals the stele’s emptiness stemmed from posthumous political paralysis. Her son Zhongzong, restoring the Tang, faced irreconcilable factions: Confucians demanding condemnation versus bureaucrats indebted to her exam reforms. The compromise? Silence—allowing later generations to project their values onto the void.

The Enduring Paradox

Wu’s contradictions mirror China’s medieval transition. She simultaneously:
– Presided over economic boom while traditional land systems crumbled
– Championed meritocracy yet relied on terror apparatus
– Patronized Buddhist art while suppressing Daoist rivals
– Empowered commoners through exams yet maintained extravagant court rituals

As historian Meng Man observes, “Every ray of sunlight she cast produced accompanying shadows.” Her reign bridged the pragmatic statecraft of Taizong’s Zhenguan Era (627–649) and Xuanzong’s Kaiyuan Prosperity (713–741), fulfilling poet Guo Moruo’s epitaph: “She inherited Zhenguan’s governance and pioneered Kaiyuan’s splendor.”

The blank stele endures as Wu’s final masterstroke—an invitation for each generation to debate power, gender, and historical memory. In a world still grappling with female leadership, her story remains explosively relevant, proving that sometimes history’s loudest statements are those left deliberately unsaid.