The Meeting of Two Worlds: A Diplomatic Mission to the Jin

In the tenth month of 1120, a Song dynasty envoy named Ma Zheng arrived at the camp of Aguda, the founding emperor of the Jin dynasty. Among his retinue was his son, Ma Kuo, a skilled martial artist whose prowess with the bow would leave a lasting impression on the Jurchen people. The Jurchens, a semi-nomadic hunting and fishing society, held deep prejudices against the Song, whom they dismissed as effete scholars incapable of martial skill. Ma Kuo, however, shattered this stereotype.

When Aguda challenged him to demonstrate his archery, Ma Kuo struck two consecutive bullseyes in the snow. Later, during a hunt, he felled a fleeing yellow deer with a single shot, earning the Jurchen title Yelimali—”the skilled archer.” This display of martial prowess earned Ma Kuo rare access to Jurchen society, where he observed their austere lifestyle. Even Aguda lived in a simple tent, with only occasional use of rudimentary huts. The Jurchens’ military tactics, Ma Kuo noted, were directly derived from their hunting strategies—coordinated encirclements that mirrored their battlefield formations.

The Illusion of Camaraderie and Hidden Agendas

Despite the apparent camaraderie, Ma Zheng’s diplomatic mission was a failure. The Song sought confirmation of earlier promises—specifically, the return of the Western Capital (Xijing) and the “lands beyond the mountains” (Shanhou Zhuzhou), territories once part of the Liao dynasty. Aguda, however, denied any such agreement. The only record supporting the Song’s claim came from Zhao Liangsi’s memoir, The Record of Missions to Yan and Yun, which described an informal conversation where Aguda allegedly promised Xijing if the Song helped capture the Liao emperor. No formal treaty mentioned these lands.

Behind the feasts and hunts, a diplomatic chess game unfolded. Aguda confided to his advisors that retaining Shanhou Zhuzhou was crucial for Jin’s future leverage over the Song. His advisor, Nianhan (Wanyan Zonghan), urged caution, warning that the Song’s vast territory implied military strength. Yet Aguda’s stance was clear: verbal promises were meaningless unless codified.

The Unraveling of Song Ambitions

While the Song envoys negotiated, rebellion erupted at home. In late 1120, Fang La, a merchant-turned-rebel, rose against the oppressive Huashi Gang—extravagant tributes of rare stones and trees extorted by corrupt officials. Fang La’s revolt devastated southeastern China, sacking Hangzhou and killing hundreds of thousands. The Song diverted troops meant for the Liao campaign to suppress the uprising, crippling their northern ambitions.

Simultaneously, another rebellion led by Song Jiang further strained Song resources. By the time Jin envoys arrived in 1121, the Song court was in disarray. Delays and evasive responses—culminating in a deliberately vague letter from Emperor Huizong—convinced the Jin that the Song could not be trusted.

The Jin’s Lightning Conquest and Song’s Humiliation

With the Song paralyzed, Aguda seized the initiative. In early 1122, Jin forces—guided by Liao defector Yelü Yudu—captured the Liao Central Capital (Zhongjing). The Liao emperor fled west, and a puppet regime under Yelü Chun briefly held Yanjing (Beijing). When the Song finally attacked in May 1122, their disorganized forces, led by the eunuch-general Tong Guan, were routed by a smaller Liao army under Yelü Dashi.

The Song’s humiliation was complete. Their military weakness exposed, they resorted to bribing Jin for Yanjing’s return. In 1123, the Jin handed over a looted city, stripping its wealth and population. The Song celebrated a hollow victory, unaware that Jin’s ambitions would soon turn south.

Legacy: The Cost of Miscalculation

The encounters of 1120–1123 revealed fatal flaws in Song diplomacy: overreliance on verbal assurances, bureaucratic indecision, and misplaced priorities. The Jin, meanwhile, mastered realpolitik—exploiting weakness and honoring only written agreements. Within five years, Jin forces would sack Kaifeng, ending the Northern Song.

Ma Kuo’s vivid accounts endure as a testament to a pivotal moment when hunts and feasts masked a struggle for supremacy—one that would reshape East Asia for centuries. The lesson was clear: in diplomacy, only the ink on the page holds weight.