The Desperate Need for Funds in a Crumbling Empire

In 1855, as the Taiping Rebellion raged across southern China, one man stood between the Qing Dynasty and total collapse: Zeng Guofan. The scholar-general had built the Xiang Army from the ground up, creating the only force capable of standing against the rebel onslaught. Yet he lacked one critical resource—money.

The central government provided little financial support, forcing Zeng to rely on what he called “begging” to keep his troops fed and armed. After capturing Wuhan, he had hoped to replenish his coffers, but the Xianfeng Emperor ordered him to march east immediately. By the time his forces reached Jiujiang and Hukou, the funds were nearly exhausted.

The Political Battle Behind the War Effort

Zeng’s appeals to the emperor for military pay were met with skepticism. Some officials argued that the Xiang Army was Zeng’s private force, not a national army, and thus undeserving of state funds. After much deliberation, Xianfeng promised 220,000 taels of silver, with Jiangxi Governor Chen Qimai responsible for delivering 80,000. Yet when Zeng arrived in Nanchang, only half of Chen’s portion had materialized.

Chen Qimai, once Zeng’s classmate, now proved a reluctant ally. When pressed for funds, he feigned ignorance, even sarcastically offering 150 cannons from Nanchang’s walls—if Zeng’s men would haul them away themselves. The tension between the two officials escalated when Chen attempted to bypass Zeng and directly command Luo Zenan, one of the Xiang Army’s key generals.

The Art of Survival: Confucian Tactics in a Cutthroat Bureaucracy

Zeng, a staunch Confucian, believed in self-restraint and strategic patience. But Chen’s provocations—including a mocking display of Luo Zenan’s portrait—pushed him to the brink. Rather than resorting to violence, Zeng turned to bureaucratic warfare. He drafted a memorial accusing Chen of ten vague but damning offenses, from “allowing soldiers to harass civilians” to “military incompetence.”

The emperor, recognizing that Zeng’s effectiveness hinged on removing obstacles, swiftly dismissed Chen. Yet the replacement, Manchu official Wen Jun, proved even more hostile. Prejudiced against Han officials like Zeng, Wen obstructed the war effort at every turn.

The Psychological Toll of Leadership

Zeng’s struggles took a physical and mental toll. His chronic skin condition flared up, leaving him in agony. In letters to his family, he confessed his frustrations, though these writings often served a dual purpose—personal venting and public posturing. He claimed to bear the empire’s burdens out of duty, yet privately acknowledged that his survival depended on self-reliance.

Legacy: The Cost of Saving a Dynasty

Zeng’s financial and political battles reveal a deeper truth about the late Qing Dynasty: even its saviors were undermined by systemic corruption and factionalism. His ability to navigate these challenges—through patience, strategic alliances, and sheer willpower—secured his place in history. Yet his struggles also foreshadowed the dynasty’s eventual collapse, proving that no amount of personal virtue could fully compensate for institutional decay.

Today, Zeng’s story serves as a case study in leadership under extreme adversity, reminding us that even the greatest victories are often won not on the battlefield, but in the shadows of bureaucracy and finance.