The Strategic Foundations of a Fragile Alliance

In the turbulent mid-17th century, as the Qing dynasty consolidated its conquest of China, remnants of the fallen Ming dynasty and rebel forces forged uneasy alliances against their common enemy. Among these, the Great Western Army—originally led by the peasant rebel Zhang Xianzhong—emerged as a formidable force under Sun Kewang after Zhang’s death. Retreating to Yunnan in 1647, Sun and his commanders transformed the province into a stable base, reviving agriculture and military strength while the Southern Ming court under the Yongli Emperor crumbled under corruption and infighting.

Unlike the Ming loyalists, who distrusted former rebels, Sun Kewang recognized the necessity of unity. His proposal to ally with the Yongli regime in 1649 was pragmatic: adopting the Ming banner would legitimize his forces and attract broader support. Yet this vision clashed with the deep-seated prejudices of Ming officials, setting the stage for a diplomatic crisis over titles, honor, and power.

The Battle for Legitimacy: Sun Kewang’s Bid for the Prince of Qin Title

Sun Kewang’s request to be enfeoffed as the Prince of Qin (秦王) was both symbolic and strategic. As the de facto leader of the Great Western Army, he sought formal recognition to solidify his authority over rival commanders like Li Dingguo and Liu Wenxiu. Historical accounts reveal tensions: in 1648, Sun publicly humiliated Li Dingguo to assert dominance, yet his leadership remained contested. A princely title from the Ming court would grant him unquestioned precedence.

However, the Yongli court’s response was mired in dysfunction. While some officials, like the visionary strategist Du Yinsi, advocated for granting Sun a title to secure his alliance, hardliners like Jin Bao denounced him as a “bandit” and cited ancestral prohibitions against ennobling non-royals. The debate exposed the court’s fatal shortsightedness—prioritizing ritualistic objections over survival.

Sabotage and Farce: The Fake Edict Incident

Amid the deadlock, a shocking deception unfolded. Chen Bangfu, a regional warlord fearing Sun’s expansion, conspired with his aide Hu Zhigong to forge an imperial edict naming Sun Kewang Prince of Qin. The fabricated document included absurd concessions, such as granting Sun regent-like powers and referring to him as the emperor’s “father-teacher.” Unaware of the fraud, Sun staged an elaborate ceremony in Kunming, accepting the title with full honors.

When the truth emerged—with Du Yinsi’s genuine offer of the lesser title “Prince of Pingliao”—Sun faced humiliation. The court’s refusal to compromise, even as Qing forces advanced, underscored its self-destructive rigidity. As historian Guo Zhiqi lamented, the Ming’s obsession with “name and ritual” blinded it to the urgency of unity.

The Cost of Division: A Lost Opportunity for Resistance

The fallout was catastrophic. Sun Kewang, alienated by the court’s duplicity, grew distrustful but still committed troops to anti-Qing campaigns. Meanwhile, Ming officials like Qu Shisi and Jin Bao continued to vilify former rebels, undermining morale. The Qing, by contrast, exploited these divisions—later offering Sun the title “Prince of Yi” (义王) after his defection in 1657, a stark contrast to the Ming’s pettiness.

This episode encapsulates why the Southern Ming collapsed: elite arrogance fractured potential alliances, while the Qing pragmatically co-opted rivals. Sun’s thwarted ambition for a title was not mere vanity; it reflected the Ming’s inability to adapt to a world where survival demanded flexibility.

Legacy: Lessons from a Broken Pact

Today, the Sun Kewang controversy serves as a cautionary tale. The Ming’s fall was not inevitable but a product of its leaders’ failure to reconcile ideology with reality. For modern readers, it underscores a timeless truth: in times of crisis, unity often requires uncomfortable compromises—a lesson as relevant to diplomacy as to leadership.

The Great Western Army’s story, though centuries old, echoes in contemporary struggles where pride undermines collective survival. As one Ming official warned too late: “Why cling to empty titles when the enemy is at the gate?”