For much of the nineteenth century, Chinese soldiers were not held in very high esteem. The standing armies of the late Qing were in considerable disrepair: Bannermen had become demoralized, poorly trained, and equipped with broken or antiquated weaponry; the Green Standard forces were slovenly, ill disciplined, and incompetent. In fact, the Banners became useless and troublesome parasites.
This sorry state of affairs changed slightly in the mid-1850s when imperial scholar officials resorted to raising temporary forces to deal with local violence and insurrections. These forces tended to be better disciplined and more effective. And serving in these forces did hold the promise of adventure and loot.
By the twentieth century, however, this perception had changed dramatically. China’s gradual slide into chaos and dismemberment prompted diligent imperial officials to establish modern-style military schools and academies throughout China, and bright young Chinese began to seek training at foreign military academies, mostly in Japan. A catalyst seems to have been China’s humiliating defeat in 1894–5 at the hands of Japan. The loss of Korea and Taiwan to a nominal Chinese tributary state was particularly galling. The upsurge of patriotism led more and more of China’s best and brightest to “switch from the pen to the sword,” or from pursuing a career as a scholar-official to one as a military officer. In the aftermath of the First Sino–Japanese War, applications to military academies in China shot up significantly. Growing interest by the gentry and the acceptance of soldiering as a scholarly undertaking greatly enhanced the prestige of the armed forces.
The collapse of the Qing dynasty in 1911, triggered by a mutiny of ordinary soldiers in units of the New Army in the central city of Wuchang, further raised the stature of the military profession. China lapsed into a period known as “warlordism” because the new Republic, inspired and then briefly led by Sun Yat-sen, failed to function as a national government. The warlord era is typically considered to have lasted from the death of President Yuan Shikai in 1916 to the Northern Expedition of 1926 led by Chiang Kai-shek. The outcome of a regional approach to military modernization followed by the declining Qing dynasty had led to the formation of multiple modern-style provincial forces rather than a single unified national army. During the warlord era, China was divided into fiefdoms each controlled by a general who held political power by virtue of the army he commanded.
Over the span of about seventeen years (1911–28), the number of Chinese males in military service quadrupled from less than half a million to about 2 million. What accounts for the dramatic increase in the number of soldiers? There was growing demand for soldiers from the warlords who ruled China – men were needed not to fight China’s external enemies but rival warlord armies. Why did Chinese men enlist to fight their countrymen? Most enlistees were volunteers; conscription and the press gang enjoyed extremely limited usage. Why did they enlist of their own free will – especially at a time when, according to Diana Lary, the military was held in nearly universal contempt? Lary says that, given the lack of attractive alternatives, these men enlisted for the assurance of a full stomach, regular income, and the promise of loot. In short, the primary motive was material gain. As a consequence, Lary labels these men “mercenaries.” Nevertheless, despite the many important practical reasons for becoming a soldier, it seems implausible that the number of enlistees increased at a time when a soldier’s reputation was allegedly so appalling. There must have been other considerations, and indeed, Lary hints at some: the prospect of adventure and glory. At least the latter motive does not seem consistent with the perception of soldiering as a disdained occupation. Of course, the officer was held in higher esteem than the enlisted man. Still, even an ordinary “mercenary” foot soldier has his self-respect.
Actually the image of the soldier in this era was not as negative as some historians claim. As noted previously, after the First Sino–Japanese War (1894–5), the status of the military was enhanced. Modern-style soldiers were seen as patriots capable of rescuing China from its predicament. Still, fighting essentially civil wars against fellow Chinese does not on the surface appear to be a patriotic activity. However, many of the best warlords attempted to inculcate some kind of basic patriotic spirit in their soldiers. They often claimed to be fighting to unify China and make it strong. But equally important was the inspiration and example provided by the warlord himself. Was he brave and heroic of stature? Did he show concern for the welfare of his men? Did he declare himself committed to unifying and strengthening China? In other words, did he inspire admiration among his men? Donald Munro has highlighted the significance in Chinese philosophy and culture of “model emulation.” This was very important not only in Confucianism, but also in other philosophical traditions, and was a lasting feature of Chinese political culture well into the Maoist era.
The increased appeal of a military career owed much to the presence of colorful and charismatic warlords such as Feng Yuxiang, Zhang Zuolin, and Li Zongren. Many consciously modeled themselves on ancient heroes and deliberately fostered cult worship of mythical martial figures such as the God of War, Guan Yu. Later, generals such as Chiang, Zhu De, He Long, and Peng Dehuai provided additional models for emulation, more powerful and appealing because these men could more plausibly lay claim to being patriots.
Chinese officers continued to be held in high esteem until the early 1920s. According to Arthur Waldron, it was not until the Second Zhili–Fengtian War of 1924–5 that society began to heap scorn on military leaders. The massive scale and scope of warfare between the two sides in this conflict repulsed people, especially since it seemed that Chinese soldiers were interested only in their own personal power and wealth while the country was internally divided and humiliated by foreign powers. In fact, the term warlord (junfa) did not enjoy widespread usage until after 1924. Thus Chinese military leaders were rarely called warlords or even viewed in the negative light that this term connoted until toward the latter part of the period historians later labeled the “warlord era.”
Indeed, prior to the mid-1920s, soldiers seem to have been viewed in a very positive light. The Chinese, for example, celebrating the end of World War I – and China’s participation as one of the victorious Allies – did not seem to hold military leaders in contempt or low esteem. High-spirited students in Tianjin in late 1918 marched in a parade with a mock-up of a boat labeled “national spirit boat” (guohunzhu). Inside were two youths, one costumed as Guan Yu, the God of War, and the other dressed as a military hero of the Southern Song. The celebration:
. . . drew upon a traditional Chinese vocabulary of martiality . . . by referring to the age of chivalry and knighthood, [and] . . . saw nothing inherently wrong with warfare or the military: they were only concerned that their cause and their nation should be victorious.
In sum, the military profession has not been viewed in totally negative terms by Chinese political culture. Rather, a soldier’s bravery, patriotism, and dedication to the Chinese people determined his status.
