The Rise and Betrayal of a Maritime Powerhouse

In the turbulent mid-17th century, as the Ming dynasty crumbled under peasant rebellions and Manchu invasions, few figures embodied the era’s contradictions like Zheng Zhilong. This Fujianese merchant-admiral had built an empire spanning naval dominance and international trade, commanding over 3,000 ships and 200,000 men at his peak. His 1646 decision to surrender to the Qing dynasty would fracture his family and reshape East Asian history.

The coastal warlord’s defection didn’t emerge from weakness. After establishing control over China’s southeastern trade routes and defeating Dutch East India Company forces in 1633, Zheng commanded unprecedented maritime power. Yet his political calculus shifted when Qing forces breached the Great Wall in 1644. As historian John E. Wills notes, Zheng represented a new breed of “sea lords” who viewed dynastic loyalty as negotiable when survival demanded compromise.

The Strategic Gamble That Backfired

Zhilong’s surrender play unfolded with tragic precision. In August 1646, he withdrew Ming defenses from the critical Xianxia Pass, allowing Prince Bolo’s banner troops to enter Fujian unopposed. Contemporary accounts reveal his rationale: “Having long desired to submit, I cleared supply depots and withdrew garrisons to welcome the imperial army.” This calculated betrayal aimed to secure his position in the new regime.

His son Zheng Chenggong (later known as Koxinga) recognized the peril. The 22-year-old future resistance leader argued passionately: “With mountainous terrain and naval superiority, we could hold the south indefinitely.” Their heated exchange, preserved in Taiwan Waiji (Unofficial Records of Taiwan), showcases their divergent visions:

Zhilong dismissed his son’s counsel as “youthful nonsense about clinging to a lost cause,” while Chenggong warned that leaving their power base would render them “fish out of water.” The elder Zheng gambled that his naval assets would guarantee Qing dependence, but Bolo had other plans.

The Trap Springs Shut

Arriving in Fuzhou with 500 guards in November 1646, Zhilong found himself outmaneuvered. After three days of banquets where Bolo swore oaths of friendship over broken arrows, the Manchu prince abruptly ordered a nighttime march to Beijing. Isolated from his forces, Zhilong became a glorified prisoner. Eyewitness Hua Tingxian described the scene: “Officials gathered under pretense of a banquet, only to find Manchu archers surrounding them. Zheng in his purple robes stood among the captured.”

The Qing quickly exploited their prize. Zhilong’s brother Zheng Zhibao and admiral Shi Fu surrendered 113,000 troops, while former subordinates like Shi Lang (later the Qing’s conqueror of Taiwan) assisted campaigns against Ming loyalists in Guangdong. Yet the promised rewards never materialized—by 1648, Zhilong languished under house arrest with only an empty noble title.

The Birth of a Resistance Legend

This betrayal became the crucible forging Zheng Chenggong’s legend. Rejecting his father’s path, the young commander rallied dissident officers at Gulangyu Island in 1647. Among them were Shi Lang and Huang Ting, veterans disillusioned by Qing mistreatment. Their defection provided the nucleus of what would become history’s last Ming loyalist force.

Chenggong’s subsequent campaigns—from besieging Nanjing in 1659 to expelling the Dutch from Taiwan in 1662—stemmed directly from his father’s miscalculation. As he wrote in a bitter 1654 letter: “They promised you three provinces, yet deliver not even a visit home. When will you see their lies?”

Maritime Power vs. Continental Conquest

The episode reveals a fundamental Qing-Ming divergence. While Zhilong saw his navy as indispensable to any ruler of coastal China, the Manchus initially dismissed naval power. Bolo’s deception reflected their belief that continental dominance trumped maritime strength—a miscalculation that would haunt the dynasty during Chenggong’s decades-long resistance.

Modern scholars like Tonio Andrade argue this moment marked a lost opportunity for China’s maritime development. Had Zhilong and Chenggong maintained their autonomy, they might have established an East Asian thalassocracy akin to contemporary European sea empires. Instead, the Qing’s continental priorities prevailed until the 19th century’s naval crises.

Echoes in Cross-Strait Relations

Today, both mainland China and Taiwan invoke this history. Beijing highlights Zheng Chenggong as a proto-unification figure who “recovered Taiwan,” while Taipei emphasizes his resistance against foreign rule. The father-son schism symbolizes enduring tensions between accommodation and defiance in Chinese political culture—a theme resonating in contemporary cross-strait discourse.

From merchant warlord to tragic cautionary tale, Zheng Zhilong’s story remains a pivot point where personal ambition, family loyalty, and imperial transformation collided with lasting consequences for East Asia’s geopolitical landscape.