The Shadow of An Lushan’s Rebellion

The An Lushan Rebellion (755–763) was one of the most catastrophic events in Tang Dynasty history. It shattered the illusion of imperial invincibility, leaving Emperor Daizong (r. 762–779) with a fractured empire and a pressing dilemma: how to prevent ambitious military leaders from exploiting their battlefield prestige to challenge the throne. The rebellion had demonstrated the dangers of unchecked warlords—An Lushan himself had been a trusted general before turning against the court.

In the aftermath, Daizong faced a precarious balancing act. The empire needed strong generals to suppress lingering rebellions and defend against external threats, yet these same men could become existential threats. His solution? Elevating eunuchs as a counterweight. Unlike generals, eunuchs—castrated and socially ostracized—could never legitimately claim the throne. They were, in theory, the perfect loyalists.

The Rise and Fall of Eunuch Power

Daizong’s reliance on eunuchs began with Li Fuguo, a powerful court eunuch who had helped him ascend to power. But Li’s arrogance soon made him a liability, and he was assassinated in 762. His successor, Cheng Yuanzhen, proved even more disastrous. Lacking competence but wielding immense authority, Cheng prioritized suppressing military leaders over defending the empire.

When Tibetan forces invaded in 763, Cheng withheld the news from Daizong, fearing that victorious generals would regain influence. The result was catastrophic: Tibetans swept through the northwest, seizing key territories and nearly capturing Chang’an. Only the last-minute recall of the aging but loyal general Guo Ziyi averted disaster. Cheng’s negligence cost the Tang dearly, and his eventual downfall—exiled after a botched attempt to sneak back into the capital—highlighted the risks of eunuch misrule.

Yet Daizong, ever hesitant, replaced Cheng with another eunuch, Yu Chaoen. Like his predecessors, Yu overreached, alienating the emperor and the bureaucracy. His execution in 770, disguised as a suicide, marked another bloody chapter in the Tang’s struggle to control its own power structures.

The Loyal General: Guo Ziyi’s Unshaken Legacy

Amid the turmoil, one figure stood apart: Guo Ziyi, the general who had crushed An Lushan’s rebellion and repelled the Tibetans. Unlike other military leaders, Guo survived the court’s paranoia through a combination of humility and political savvy. He obeyed summons to the capital without protest, disarming suspicion, and even intervened to save the poet Li Bai from execution.

Guo’s legacy was unique. As the Old Tang History noted, he was “a man whose power shook the realm yet was never distrusted by the court, whose achievements overshadowed his era yet never aroused his sovereign’s suspicion.” His death in 781 marked the end of an era—a reminder that loyalty and restraint were rare virtues in a time of fracturing authority.

The Illusion of Revival: The Tang’s “Zhongxing” Era

By the reign of Emperor Dezong (r. 779–805), the Tang had stabilized, albeit weakly. Historians later termed this the “Zhongxing” (中兴) or “Restoration” period, but it was a fragile peace. Regional military governors (jiedushi) operated as de facto rulers, and the treasury was drained by endless campaigns to rein them in.

Dezong’s aggressive policies backfired. His attempt to curb governor autonomy sparked rebellions, forcing him into a humiliating “Edict of Self-Reproach” in 784—a public admission of failure. Though his grandson Xianzong (r. 805–820) temporarily subdued the governors, the underlying issues remained. The empire’s finances were crippled, and the people suffered under heavy taxes, as captured in poet Bai Juyi’s verses:

> “The young lack clothing to cover their bodies,
> The old shiver without warmth.”

The Poisoned Chalice of Longevity

Even the “restoration” emperors fell victim to the era’s instability. Xianzong, once a vigorous ruler, grew paranoid in his later years, consuming mercury-laden elixirs in pursuit of immortality. The drugs warped his mind, leading to violent outbursts. In 820, his own eunuchs—fearing for their lives—poisoned him. The official record tersely noted his “sudden collapse,” a fittingly ambiguous end for a dynasty increasingly ruled by shadows.

Conclusion: A Dynasty’s Slow Decline

The Tang’s post-rebellion struggles reveal a recurring pattern: the court’s attempts to control power often backfired, creating new threats. Eunuchs, meant to be safe custodians of imperial authority, became tyrants. Loyal generals like Guo Ziyi were exceptions in a system that incentivized distrust.

When 19th-century statesman Li Hongzhang invoked the Tang’s “restoration” to justify territorial losses to Japan, he glossed over the harsh truth: the Tang never truly recovered its glory. The Zhongxing era was less a revival than a desperate holding action—a lesson in how empires, once fractured, cling to survival at any cost.

The Tang’s final century would be marked by more rebellions, more eunuch coups, and the gradual erosion of central power. By the time the dynasty collapsed in 907, the lessons of Daizong’s reign—of misplaced trust and the perils of imbalance—had been written in blood, only to be forgotten by the empires that followed.