The Coup of 1861 and the Foundations of Power

The suppression of the Zaichang rebellion marked a pivotal moment in Qing dynasty politics. With the principal conspirators severely punished, the Manchu noblewoman Yehenara—better known as Empress Dowager Cixi—saw her political position gradually solidify. As the Xianfeng Emperor’s consort and mother of the new Tongzhi Emperor, Cixi emerged as China’s de facto ruler during the 1860s, particularly since the East Empress Dowager Ci’an showed little interest in governance.

Cixi’s initial regency (1861-1873) demonstrated remarkable political caution. Rather than overtly seizing power, she operated behind the scenes, carefully cultivating support among high-ranking officials. Most edicts during this period bore the young emperor’s name, allowing Cixi to maintain plausible deniability about her growing influence. This phase represented her political apprenticeship—a time when she first tasted power’s intoxicating effects while avoiding the appearance of overreach that had doomed previous ambitious women in Chinese history.

The Art of Political Survival

Cixi displayed acute political instincts in handling post-rebellion tensions. Unlike historical precedents like Empress Lü or Wu Zetian—whose reigns were marred by allegations of usurpation—Cixi adopted selective punishment. Only the rebellion’s ringleaders faced execution, while accomplices like Minister Chen Fuen received comparatively lenient treatment (demotion rather than death) despite clear evidence of their crimes. This calculated mercy served dual purposes: it prevented the creation of martyrs while allowing Cixi to position herself as a magnanimous ruler.

Her political philosophy emerged in edicts stating she would “only punish the rebellion’s leaders” while urging officials to “perform their duties diligently and avoid repeating Chen Fuen’s mistakes.” This balanced approach—combining selective retribution with public calls for unity—helped stabilize her regime during its fragile early years.

The Mechanics of Regency

The logistics of Cixi’s rule involved careful ceremonial innovations. The iconic “yellow curtain” separated the empress dowagers from male officials during audiences, preserving Confucian propriety while enabling female governance. Prince Gong (Yixin), the Xianfeng Emperor’s brother, initially served as indispensable advisor and regent. Cixi rewarded his crucial support during the 1861 coup by appointing him Prince-Regent and granting his daughter imperial princess privileges—a strategic move that created familial obligations.

Yet this alliance proved temporary. As Cixi gained experience, tensions flared between her authoritarian tendencies and Prince Gong’s assertive personality. Historical records describe shouting matches during audiences, with Prince Gong allegedly reminding Cixi that “without me, you wouldn’t have this position”—a fatal miscalculation in dealing with the proud dowager.

The 1865 Crisis: Testing the Limits of Power

The regency’s turning point came in April 1865 when Cixi orchestrated Prince Gong’s dramatic fall. Accusing him of violating court etiquette (standing during an audience when he should have remained kneeling), she stripped him of all positions including the critical role overseeing the Zongli Yamen (foreign affairs office). The edict cited “abuse of power and factionalism” as justification.

However, backlash from the bureaucracy forced Cixi to retreat within months. Recognizing her dependence on Prince Gong’s administrative skills—especially during the ongoing Taiping Rebellion’s aftermath—she partially restored his positions while retaining control over appointments. This episode revealed Cixi’s core governing principle: power must be absolute in theory but flexible in practice.

Cultural Engineering Through Symbolism

Cixi understood the propaganda value of symbols. She replaced the Zaichang faction’s proposed “Qixiang” era name with “Tongzhi” (meaning “joint rule”), simultaneously erasing the rebels’ legacy while promoting an image of harmonious governance. The choice subtly implied her co-regency with Ci’an was temporary—a fiction maintained through edicts claiming they ruled reluctantly “at officials’ repeated requests” until the emperor came of age.

Her accumulation of honorific titles—eventually reaching sixteen characters by her 70th birthday—became another power demonstration. Each two-character addition (granted during milestones like imperial weddings or birthdays) brought tangible benefits, including state funds. The final grandiose title—”Empress Dowager Cixi Duan You Kang Yi Zhao Yu Zhuang Cheng Shou Gong Qin Xian Chong Xi”—epitomized her cultivated image as sagacious ruler.

The Final Ascent to Absolute Power

Cixi’s third regency (1898-1908) after the failed Hundred Days’ Reform shed all pretense. With the Guangxu Emperor reduced to a literal puppet seated beside her throne, she exercised unfiltered autocracy. Daily audiences saw ministers prostrating before her while the emperor sat silently—a visual representation of Qing power structures.

This late period revealed Cixi’s political evolution. Having mastered statecraft through decades of experience, she now governed with the confidence (and paranoia) of someone who had outmaneuvered countless rivals. Her handling of the 1898 reformists—some executed, others exiled—contrasted sharply with her earlier restraint, showing how power had transformed her governing style.

Legacy of the Last Qing Autocrat

Cixi’s 47-year dominance left contradictory legacies. She stabilized the Qing during the Taiping and Nian Rebellions yet failed to modernize China effectively. Her patronage of certain reforms (like the Tongzhi Restoration) coexisted with reactionary suppression of constitutionalism. The Boxer Protocol’s humiliations stemmed directly from her miscalculations, yet her political longevity remains unmatched among female rulers in Chinese history.

Modern assessments grapple with this complexity: was she a ruthless tyrant who accelerated dynastic collapse or a pragmatic leader navigating impossible circumstances? Perhaps both—a consummate political survivor whose reign encapsulated China’s tragic encounter with modernity. The Forbidden City’s Hall of Mental Cultivation, where she held court behind her yellow curtain, stands as mute witness to one of history’s most remarkable female ascents to absolute power.