The Sober Beginnings of a Dynasty

Alcohol prohibition in China was not an innovation of the Qing Dynasty (1644–1912), but it was under Emperor Qianlong (r. 1735–1796) that the campaign reached its peak intensity. From the moment he ascended the throne, Qianlong targeted alcohol production as a key issue of governance. His concerns were not moral but economic: the massive grain consumption required for brewing threatened food security in an era of population growth and agricultural strain.

The Qing emperors, like their Ming predecessors, had long been wary of alcohol’s societal impact. Kangxi (r. 1661–1722) and Yongzheng (r. 1722–1735) had issued sporadic restrictions, particularly during famines. But Qianlong’s approach was systematic. In 1736, his first year as emperor, he received a memorial from Fang Bao, a Hanlin Academy scholar, who argued that distilled liquor (烧酒, shaojiu) was “draining wealth and stealing food from the people.” Fang proposed draconian measures: destroying brewing equipment and banning the production of fermentation starters (曲, qu). Qianlong agreed, declaring that “no policy nurtures the people more than ensuring grain reserves… and nothing depletes grain more severely than shaojiu.”

The Imperial Decree and the Backlash

In May 1737, the court issued a nationwide ban on shaojiu production. The reaction was immediate and fierce. Sun Jiagan, the Left Censor-in-Chief, submitted a blistering rebuttal. He argued that banning shaojiu—a cheap, high-alcohol drink made from sorghum and other coarse grains—would backfire. The poor would turn to huangjiu (yellow rice wine), which required finer grains like wheat and rice. “Prohibition harms more than it helps,” Sun warned. His ally, Minister of War Necin, went further, advocating not just for legalizing shaojiu but abolishing alcohol taxes altogether.

Regional officials weighed in with pragmatic compromises. Li Wei, Viceroy of Zhili, suggested banning shaojiu only during lean harvest years. Henan’s governor Yin Huiyi demanded crackdowns on professional brewers but leniency for household production. The debate revealed a fundamental tension: how to balance grain conservation with economic realities and popular demand.

Qianlong’s Compromise: A Nuanced Prohibition

Faced with dissent, Qianlong adjusted his policy in 1738. The final edict targeted large-scale commercial brewers—wealthy merchants who stockpiled sorghum and operated industrial-scale distilleries. Punishments were severe: 100 lashes, two months in cangues (wooden shackles), and demotions for negligent local officials. But small-scale, subsistence-level brewing was permitted. This calibrated approach aimed to curb waste without inciting unrest, particularly in northern China, where shaojiu was a cultural staple.

The emperor’s pragmatism reflected deeper economic insights. Shaojiu production was concentrated in the North China Plain, a region prone to droughts. By restricting commercial operations, Qianlong hoped to stabilize grain prices and prevent famine-induced instability. Yet the policy’s enforcement was uneven. Corruption and local resistance diluted its impact, and by the late 18th century, illicit breweries flourished.

The Emperor’s Own Glass: Luxury in the Forbidden City

Ironically, Qianlong himself was no teetotaler. His drink of choice was Yuquan jiu (Jade Spring Wine), a premium rice wine brewed with water from the imperial Jade Spring near Beijing. Meticulous records from 1790 reveal the staggering scale of palace consumption: over 1,039 jin (roughly 1,250 pounds) annually, allocated to ancestral rites (371 jin for the Fengxian Temple), imperial kitchens, and lavish banquets celebrating weddings and diplomatic receptions.

The emperor’s personal indulgence underscored a broader contradiction. While commoners faced restrictions, the court’s alcohol culture remained opulent. Yuquan jiu became a status symbol, gifted to Mongol princes and Tibetan lamas to reinforce political alliances. Qianlong’s 1790 audit—demanding itemized accounts of every drop—was less about frugality than asserting control over a precious commodity.

Legacy: Prohibition’s Echoes in Modern China

Qianlong’s alcohol policies left a lasting imprint. His tiered approach—punishing commercial excess while tolerating modest private use—set precedents for later Qing rulers. During the 19th-century crises, similar bans resurfaced as stopgap measures against famine.

Today, echoes of this history persist. China’s 20th-century alcohol monopolies and contemporary campaigns against counterfeit baijiu (a shaojiu descendant) reflect enduring state concerns over public health and tax revenue. Meanwhile, Yuquan jiu is now a cultural relic, its recipes preserved in museums—a testament to an emperor who waged war on alcohol yet kept a well-stocked cellar.

In the end, Qianlong’s prohibition was neither a triumph nor a failure. It was a calculated maneuver in the art of imperial governance, where economic pragmatism clashed with cultural inevitabilities. As modern debates over alcohol regulation continue, the 18th century offers a sobering lesson: even the mightiest emperors couldn’t legislate thirst away.