The Rise of Yongzheng’s Authoritarian Rule

The Yongzheng Emperor’s reign (1723–1735) marked a dramatic shift toward political severity in Qing governance. Unlike his father, the Kangxi Emperor, whose rule blended Confucian benevolence with Manchu martial vigor, Yongzheng governed with an uncompromising rigidity that permeated his administration. This authoritarian turn was not merely ideological but rooted in the turbulent power struggles of his succession. Having ascended the throne amid rumors of usurpation—including the infamous claim that he altered Kangxi’s will by changing the character “ten” (十) to “grant” (于)—Yongzheng viewed dissent as existential threats. His reign became defined by purges, from the elimination of rival princes like Yunsi and Yuntang to the systematic dismantling of powerful factions, notably the military clique of General Nian Gengyao.

The Nian Gengyao Affair and the Perils of Literary Expression

The downfall of Nian Gengyao, once Yongzheng’s most trusted general, exemplifies the emperor’s ruthlessness. In 1725, Nian was accused of 92 crimes, including treason, after investigators discovered a subversive manuscript titled Random Notes on the Western Campaign (Xizheng Suibi) in his residence. Its author, the Hangzhou scholar Wang Jingqi, had accompanied Nian’s campaigns and penned essays critiquing imperial ingratitude toward meritorious officials. One essay, “No Hero Escapes His Fate,” invoked the tragic fates of historical figures like Fan Li, who fled the vengeful King Goujian of Yue. Wang’s prescient warning—that rulers inevitably turn on their subordinates out of suspicion, fear, anger, and disgust—became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Yongzheng, enraged by the text’s implied criticism, ordered Wang’s execution and used the text as evidence of Nian’s “great treason.” The episode underscored how intellectual discourse, even in private writings, could trigger lethal consequences.

The Provincial Examinations Scandal: Paranoia and Collective Punishment

Yongzheng’s distrust extended to the educated elite. In 1726, the scholar Zha Siting, chief examiner for Jiangxi’s provincial exams, was accused of embedding anti-Qing messages in his questions. One question, quoting The Analects—”A gentleman does not promote others based on speech, nor reject their words based on their character”—was interpreted as mocking Yongzheng’s purges. Another, citing Mencius about overgrown mountain paths, allegedly symbolized the emperor’s “blocked mind.” Though evidence was flimsy (the infamous claim that Zha used the phrase “Wei Min Suo Zhi” to decapitate the characters for “Yongzheng” was likely fabricated), Zha died in prison, his corpse mutilated, and his family exiled. The case fueled Yongzheng’s bias against Zhejiang intellectuals, leading to a six-year suspension of the province’s civil exams—a draconian measure that crippled scholarly aspirations.

The Zeng Jing and Lü Liuliang Case: Ideological Warfare

The most notorious literary inquisition occurred in 1727, when the Hunan scholar Zeng Jing, influenced by the anti-Manchu writings of the late Ming loyalist Lü Liuliang, attempted to incite rebellion. Zeng’s disciple Zhang Xi delivered a manifesto to General Yue Zhongqi, urging him to avenge Han Chinese oppression. Yue, however, betrayed Zeng, triggering a nationwide crackdown. Lü’s works, which emphasized “the defense of Hua against barbarians” (华夷之防), were condemned as seditious, and his corpse was exhumed and dismembered. Yet in a paradoxical twist, Yongzheng spared Zeng Jing, using his coerced recantation to compile The Great Righteousness Resolving Confusion (Dayi Juemi Lu), a propaganda text defending Qing legitimacy. The emperor’s theatrical “debates” with Zeng—addressing accusations of patricide, fratricide, and tyranny—revealed a ruler obsessed with controlling historical narrative.

Cultural Legacy and Contradictions

Beneath Yongzheng’s tyranny lay a complex engagement with culture. He promoted Confucian orthodoxy, elevating rituals like the worship of Confucius to imperial status, while privately embracing Buddhism and Daoism. His self-styled persona as “the Layman of Broken Dust” (破尘居士) belied his violent suppression of dissent. This duality extended to his death in 1735, shrouded in mystery—was he assassinated by Lü Liuliang’s granddaughter, poisoned by alchemical elixirs, or felled by illness? The unanswered questions mirror the contradictions of his reign: a ruler who authored treatises on enlightenment yet institutionalized terror.

Conclusion: The Shadow of Yongzheng

Yongzheng’s legacy is a study in authoritarian efficiency. His reforms centralized power, streamlined taxation, and stabilized the empire, but at a moral cost. The literary persecutions, while less bloody than those under Qianlong, set a precedent for ideological control. Modern historians debate whether his harshness was a necessary corrective to Kangxi’s laxity or a betrayal of Confucian governance. What remains undeniable is that Yongzheng’s reign—a blend of intellectual rigor and paranoid violence—forged a template for Qing absolutism, one that would both sustain and suffocate China’s last dynasty.