Chapter IX: The Problem: Historical (2)

Mr. Takezoye was at Chemulpo when Count Inouye arrived on
the 31st of December. The Count was also met by Mr. von
Mollendorff, a high official of the Chinese Customs, detailed
for duty in Korea, who likewise acted in a diplomatic capacity.
Count Inouye informed him that he intended to go to Seoul at
once and to demand an audience at the earliest practicable
moment. Mr. von Mollendorff had various reasons to urge for
delay, but Count Inouye swept them aside, and the Embassy
proceeded to Seoul the next day; it was accompanied by about
400 soldiers, a smaller force having been left at Chemulpo.
In Seoul, where they arrived that night, the Ambassador and
suite were lodged in the yamen of the Governor of the City,
just outside the West Gate. The same night the Ambassador
presented his formal request for an immediate audience. It met
with the customary Oriental reception: His Majesty was not in
robust health; the Ambassador himself must be tired and in need
of rest after his long journey; the attention of His Majesty
was occupied with preparations for a fitting reception of His
Excellency, and so on. Mr. von Mollendorff was kept very busy
running back and forth, but finally it was made clear to the
minds of the King’s advisers that Count Inouye meant exactly
what he said, and that disagreeable things might happen if he
did not have his way.

The audience was finally appointed for January 3d. On the
morning of that day the cavalcade set forth, a military band
trained by a foreign band-master in the van; then a mounted
guard of honor; then the Ambassador, accompanied by Admiral
Kabayama and General Takashima and followed by his secretaries,
and bringing up the rear a company of infantry. As the
procession passed through the Gate and emerged into the wide
street leading to the East Gate, a curious and inspiriting
spectacle presented itself. The morning was fresh and clear;
the air crisp and invigorating, and the broad, sunny street
as far as the eye could see was one mass of gaily clad
humanity, men dressed in coats of every color, white, as is
usual, predominating. The crowds parted before the head of the
procession like waves beneath the prow of a ship; the Korean
police ran alongside plying their many-thonged whips with
indiscriminate zeal; and then, as if to add the last queer
touch to the whole proceeding, the band struck up “Dixie.”

Nor did odd happenings end here. When the procession arrived
at the triple gates of the Palace, the centre gate was closed.
Count Inouye halted the line immediately and demanded the
reason. It was explained by Mr. Mollendorff that the centre
gate was reserved for the King, and that the side gates
were used by the highest dignitaries. Count Inouye replied
that he was an Ambassador, the personal representative of
his sovereign, and that as such he could not pass through
an inferior entrance. Back went the messenger behind the
barred gate, and in a few minutes appeared again breathlessly
explaining that to their great chagrin and regret, royal
etiquette, binding upon His Majesty as upon his lowest subject,
could not be disregarded. Upon that Count Inouye blandly
retorted that he also was bound by etiquette, immutable and
unchangeable; and that if the gate was not opened within three
minutes, much to his regret he would be obliged to retrace his
steps and to report to his Imperial Master this new slight to
Japan. The gate was opened without further delay.

After that the audience passed off smoothly. Count Inouye was
careful to impress upon the King’s mind, as upon the minds of
his advisers, that while his mission was one of peace, much
depended upon the sincerity and promptitude with which Korea
met Japan’s just demands for redress and upon the guarantees
she gave against the recurrence of like causes of complaint.
The negotiations throughout were conducted in that spirit.
The Ambassador was kindly and considerate, but would tolerate
no paltering or double-dealing. He couched his demands in
firm but friendly language, made every allowance for the
embarrassing position in which the King found himself, placed
the responsibility for what had happened where it belonged,
but made it very clear all the while that neither he nor
his government would be trifled with. This was shown in a
sensational way at the first formal meeting of the Ambassador
with the Korean plenipotentiaries. The meeting had hardly
convened when suddenly a bustle was heard in the courtyard,
and, without further notice, the Chinese Consul-General
entered, suavely bowing to those present. Paying no attention
to him, Count Inouye sprang to his feet and demanded of
the Chief Korean Plenipotentiary what the intrusion meant,
and whether the Chinese official had ventured upon this
extraordinary step with his knowledge and consent. If that
were the case, he would regard it as his duty to break off the
negotiations at once, for the Japanese Government would not
tolerate for a moment any interference of that kind, and would
warmly resent Korea’s connivance with it. There was a hasty
disavowal on the Korean side, the Consul-General lamely adding
that as China and Japan and Korea were friends, and as the
matter under discussion was of interest to all three, he had
come of his own accord to participate in a friendly way in the
proceedings. He thereupon withdrew somewhat less blithely than
he had entered. Count Inouye then repeated what he had said and
gave the Korean plenipotentiaries clearly to understand that
he would not tolerate the repetition of such childish antics,
but would regard them, if again attempted, as reason for the
gravest offence. This warning had its effect; the negotiations
thereafter proceeded expeditiously and the Convention was
signed on the 9th of January. It stipulated an apology; the
payment of an indemnity of 110,000 _yen_ to the relatives of
the murdered and the merchants who had been plundered; the
punishment of the murderers of Captain Isobayashi, military
_attaché_; the furnishing of sites for legation and consulate,
materials for building the same, and 20,000 _yen_ to pay the
cost of construction; the building of barracks for Japanese
troops adjacent to the Legation; and further that the murderers
of Captain Isobayashi should be punished within twenty days
after the convention was signed.

The events of 1882 and 1884 had emphasized what the entire history of the relations of Japan and Korea had made manifest—namely, that some distinct understanding with China must be reached if the two neighboring countries were ever to live together in peace. The task of establishing such an understanding was assigned to Marquis Ito, and in the spring of 1885 he proceeded to China as Japan’s special Ambassador. Li Hung Chang, who was then Viceroy of Chi-li, was the Ambassador appointed by the Peking Government. The latter appointment was the more significant because Li was supposed to entertain a profound distrust and dislike of the Japanese; moreover, Yuan Shi Kai, whose subsequent career has been so important in the politics of the Far East, and who had been in command of the Chinese soldiers at the time of their slaughter of the Japanese in 1884, was a _protégé_ of Li’s. In spite of the inherent difficulties, the broad statesmanship and frankness of the Marquis overcame them; and the intercourse of these two men, whose personality and policy afterward had so much to do with the history of their respective countries, resulted in their becoming friends. The Chinese statesman expressed regret that he had not met Ito before, since he had now for the first time gained a correct conception of Japan’s policy; he even went so far as to ask the Marquis to mention the need of governmental reforms to the Dowager Empress of China, who became angry at him, her own Viceroy, when he ventured to refer to the matter before her.

On the 18th of April, 1885, a Convention was signed which was intended to prevent in the future all recurrence of events similar to those of the previous December. The important point of this Convention is that both sides pledged themselves against armed interference in Korea except in pressing emergencies and after mutual consultation. This agreement, while it saved the “face” of China—a matter so imperatively important from the Chinese point of view—was a virtual abandonment of her claim of suzerainty; for it gave to Japan, which made no such claim, equal interest in the internal affairs of Korea and equal right to send troops into its territory, in case the judgment of both countries recognized such a need. The agreement also promised good for Korea herself, since it made the use of Chinese or Japanese soldiers in control of Korean affairs more unlikely for trifling reasons; and, on the other hand, it safeguarded her against other foreign armed intervention as the result of her domestic intrigues.

The story of what followed and led up to the war with Japan is, briefly, as follows: The stipulations of this Convention were observed by Japan both in letter and in spirit, and by China, upon the surface at least. For a few years neither Power sent troops to Korea; and China ceased to flaunt the claim to suzerainty before her neighbor’s face. But she still cherished the fiction and sought to maintain by indirection, and by means peculiarly Chinese, what she had failed to uphold in the open. Thus, in 1887, as stated in Moore’s _Digest of International Law_: “The Chinese Government sought to prevent the departure of a Korean envoy to the United States on the ground of the dependent relation of Korea toward China. The American Minister at Peking was instructed to express surprise and regret at this action on the part of the Chinese Government. The envoy finally set out on his journey, but when he arrived in the United States the Chinese Minister at Washington wrote the Department of State to the effect that the Korean envoy would, on his arrival there, report to the Chinese Legation, and would be presented through it to the Department of State; after which he might apply for an opportunity to present his credentials to the President.

“The Korean envoy, on the day after his arrival in Washington, addressed a note to Mr. Bayard, as Secretary of State, asking for an interview to arrange for the presentation of his credentials to the President. Such an arrangement was duly made, and the envoy was presented without the intervention of the Chinese Minister. ‘As the United States,’ said Mr. Bayard, ‘have no privity with the interrelations of China and Korea, we shall treat both as separate governments customarily represented here by their respective and independent agents.’”

So unmistakable a declaration as this from a friendly, impartial Power would, it might reasonably be thought, have caused China to abandon her shadowy pretensions. It did not have that effect, however. Her agents in Korea committed no overt act which was likely to provoke remonstrance from the Treaty Powers; but they lost no opportunity of preserving in the Korean mind at least the fiction of dependency upon China. Yuan Shi Kai, for example, “Claimed, and to a large extent obtained, the position of Chinese Resident at Seoul. His official title was ‘Director General Resident in Korea of Diplomatic and Consular Relations,’ and his substantive rank in his own country was that of Intendant of Circuit, a rank corresponding, according to the Anglo-Chinese Treaty, to that of a Consul.... Resident Yuan was permitted to proceed to the Audience Hall in his chair and to be seated in the presence of the King, privileges not accorded to the representatives of the other Powers.” (Wilkinson’s _The Government of Korea_.) The privileges thus claimed by this representative of China were obtained in the course of several years after the conclusion of the Convention of 1885. They were largely ceremonial in character and none of the representatives of the Treaty Powers ever recognized the right of the so-called Resident to interfere in any manner in their business with the Korean Government. Whatever there was peculiar in his relations to that Government was a question of an understanding, practically secret, and never formally enunciated or recognized, between the Korean Court and himself. The conditions then prevailing in Korea were highly conducive to the existence of such anomalies. An amiable but weak King; a corrupt Court and Government, with two powerful factions struggling for supremacy and stopping at nothing to gain it—these were ideal conditions for the exercise of Chinese diplomacy. It accomplished nothing in the end, however, even in the hands of such an astute and able man as Yuan Shi Kai. Japan, of course, never recognized his pretensions, but, biding her time and always dealing with Korea as an independent state, devoted herself to the promotion of the rapidly growing commercial and industrial interests of her people in the peninsula.

Naturally neither the Government nor the people of Japan could view without resentment the attempts on China’s part to maintain rights she had already practically surrendered. But this feeling did not assume a definite form until the assassination of Kim Ok Kiun at Shanghai, in March, 1894, and the arrest of a confederate of the murderer in Japan, who confessed that he was officially commissioned to murder another one of the Korean political refugees. These events aroused a storm of indignation in Japan. What followed added fuel to the flames. The murderer and the body of his victim were conveyed on board a Chinese man-of-war to Korea. The murderer was rewarded and the severed parts of Kim’s body were publicly exhibited in different parts of Seoul. Rightly or wrongly this barbarous act, against which the foreign representatives at the instance of the Japanese Minister unofficially protested, was attributed to the Queen’s party. The excitement it caused had not subsided when, in May, came the “Tong Hak” rebellion. The Tong Haks were religious fanatics, the chief article of whose creed was said to be the massacre of all foreigners. Seoul was rife with rumors, and the utmost alarm and confusion prevailed. According to the report of the American Minister, the rebellion was practically suppressed on the 3d of June by Korean troops; and on the 8th of June the Government officially announced that it was at an end. In the meantime, however, the Chinese Government, without previous notice to Japan or mutual consultation, as stipulated in the Convention of 1885, sent a force of 2,000 troops to Korea, which on June 10th landed at A-San, about forty miles south of Chemulpo, ostensibly to suppress the rebellion. The American Minister, Mr. Sill, in his report on the subject to the Department of State, says that “this was done at Korean request, dictated and insisted on by Yuan, the Chinese Resident.” Learning of the purpose to send troops, the Japanese Government promptly remonstrated with the Government at Peking, and in reply was informed (after the act) that the troops had been sent because urgently needed to suppress disorders in “the vassal state.” There was no explanation and no apology beyond this palpable and contemptuous violation of the terms of the Convention of 1885. There was but one possible response. On the same day that the Chinese troops landed, a force of Japanese marines was sent to the capital, to be replaced a few days later by a larger body of soldiers. The scene of the struggle was then transferred to Seoul. The Korean Government, having brought the trouble on its own head, showed its usual impotence. It begged both Japan and China to leave, and sought aid from the foreign representatives in the effort to persuade them to do so. China was quite willing to accede to these appeals. Possibly her agent on the spot, it may even be the Government at Peking, was startled by the promptitude with which Japan had accepted the challenge. In any event, China had nothing to lose and much to gain by doing as Korea asked. She could leave the scene with flying banners, having shown that Korea was in fact her vassal; that the Convention was waste paper and that Japan could be flouted with impunity. Naturally this programme did not commend itself to Japan. According to her view of the situation there were certain vital questions to be settled before the troops were withdrawn. Foremost among these was the decision of Korea’s actual status; then, subsidiary to this, but none the less important, the adoption of certain reforms which, while improving the public administration and promoting the common weal, would prevent the recurrence of disturbances which were a constant menace to the welfare of Korea and her neighbors. Accordingly, the Japanese Minister presented a memorial on the proposed reforms and demanded a categorical statement as to whether Korea was a vassal of China or not.

Regarding the latter demand the American Minister reports that “This caused great consternation,” since if they (the Korean Government) answered in the negative they would offend China, while an affirmative answer would bring down the wrath of Japan. After many consultations and several reminders to be prompt from the Japanese, an answer was given in this sense: “Korea, being an independent state, enjoys the same sovereign rights as does Japan (see Treaty of Kang-wha, 1876), and that ‘in both internal administration and foreign intercourse Korea enjoys complete independence’ (see letter of the King to the President of the United States). They supposed that by thus quoting the treaties which China allowed them to make she cannot take offence, while Japan should be content with such an answer.”

The breaking out of hostilities between China and Japan was, of course, the occasion of renewal in acute form of internal strife between the conservative and the progressive forces in Korea. But for the time being the progressive forces, backed by the dominance of the Japanese, were the stronger. On the 5th of August, 1894, the Korean treaty with China was denounced; on the 15th of the same month it was formally abrogated by the Korean Government; and on the 19th notice of an entirely new plan of Government was officially issued. On September 3d Marquis Saionji, special Ambassador from the Emperor of Japan, had an audience with the King and presented him with gifts, in honor of his accession to the position of an independent sovereign. Numerous reforms[20] which had been discussed in the Korean Council on July 31st of this same year and agreed upon as laws to be submitted to His Majesty for his approval, instead of being sincerely, wisely, and perseveringly enacted and enforced, became the causes of increased defection, intrigue, and internal dissensions.

The rebellion (referred to above as the “Tong Hak” rebellion), which had been reported as suppressed the previous June, broke out in a still more dreadful form on the first of October (1894). The Korean rebels became a “disorganized pillaging mob.” Taxes were no longer paid; Korean officials were robbed and mutilated or murdered; small parties of the Japanese were attacked and tortured to death after the traditional manner of the nation. Meantime the Japanese forces were quite uniformly victorious both by land and by sea; and on October 9th the last of the Chinese forces were driven across the Yalu River. A solemn “oath, sworn at the royal temple by His Majesty the King of Korea, while he worshipped, on the 12th day of the twelfth moon of the five hundred and third year of the foundation of Ta Chosen” (January 7, 1895), bound him to “give up all idea of subjection to China and to labor firmly to establish the independence of Korea”; “to decide all political affairs in council with his Cabinet”; “to prevent Her Majesty the Queen, his concubines, and all the royal relations from interfering in affairs of state,” thus securing a separation between their affairs and those of the royal household; and to introduce and foster other reforms of a political and educational character. How poorly His Majesty kept his solemn oath, the subsequent history of his throne and of his nation abundantly shows.

By the Chino-Japan war the dominating and baleful influence of China was for all time removed, and to Korea was secured the opportunity for an independent and progressive national development under the guidance, and by the assistance, of Japan. That the Government of Japan honestly wished for this good to come to Korea, there is no reasonable ground of doubt. That the good did not follow is, however, due to the fault of both nations. As regards the character and conduct of the average political reformer there is a marked similarity between the Japanese and the Koreans. Such a one is apt to be over-confident, and even self-conceited; to have only a scanty acquaintance with the fundamental principles of politics and of statesmanship; to be lacking in a judicial estimate of the difficulties to be overcome; to make use (often with an apparent preference for them) of offensive rather than conciliatory means; and to have no adequate apprehension of the value of time, and of the necessity of securing time, in order to effect important changes in national affairs. Neither has he learned the art of compromise in consistency with the maintenance of important moral principles. That Japan has not hitherto failed in reforming herself as conspicuously as Korea is chiefly due, after making proper allowances for the different environments of the two nations, to the great difference in the character of the two Emperors who have been upon their thrones during the period of trial; to the fact that Japan has had a body of most conspicuously wise leaders—something Korea has completely lacked; and to the difference as respects the essential spirit of loyalty among the people which the feudal system developed in Japan, but which has never been to any extent developed in Korea.

The complete inability of the Korean official to comprehend, or to sympathize with, the motives which led the representatives of Japan—first, Mr. Otori and then Count Inouye—to urge the adoption of administrative reforms may be judged by the fact that the King’s father, the Tai Won Kun, handed to Inouye on his arrival as Minister at Seoul a list of sixty persons whom he wished to have forthwith executed in order to secure himself in control of affairs. Squabbles for power between the party of the Queen and the party of the Tai Won Kun therefore continued and even became increasingly acute. The Korean hot-head progressives were pushing reforms without sufficient regard to the existing conditions. But for a time the presence of a real statesman as the representative of Japan in Korea kept the evil forces in check.

Count Inouye’s appointment to the post of Minister was an eloquent proof of the profound interest which the Japanese Government took in Korea, and of its earnest desire to aid her in the promotion of domestic reform and progress. On the Count’s part, personally, the acceptance of such a task, difficult and in many ways distasteful, was an exhibition of self-sacrificing patriotism, to which the present action of his bosom friend and associate, Marquis Ito, affords a striking parallel. While striving to reconcile the warring Korean factions, he devoted himself to the improvement of administrative conditions and to the promotion of the public welfare. He attained a measure of success in some directions, and would undoubtedly have achieved more lasting success had it been possible for him to remain longer in Korea. His singleness of purpose was recognized by many Koreans, and the sincerity of his endeavors to benefit Korea was acknowledged by foreign observers. But the task was too heavy for the time he could devote to it.

Finally, other more imperative duties called Count Inouye home, and he was succeeded by Viscount Miura, a man of a different stamp. Then followed the murder of the Queen, with all its unhappy train of consequences. Although the crime was undoubtedly concocted by the Queen’s implacable enemy, the Tai Won Kun, the Japanese Government never sought to evade the share of responsibility imposed upon it. The tragedy was a far severer blow to Japanese interests than to those of Korea, for the Queen alive, and even still bitterly hostile to Japan, could never have worked the harm that the manner of her taking-off had caused. And, indeed, while apology for this murder from the moral point of view cannot be justified, in spite of the cruel character of the victim and of the fact that there was then visited upon her only the same treatment which she had herself given to scores and hundreds of others, when considered from the diplomatic point of view the act was even more foolish and reprehensible.

The following account from Hershey[21] gives in brief, but with sufficient detail for our purposes, the events of this period:—

The impolitic attempts at hasty and radical reform in Korea,
which followed the outbreak of the Chino-Japanese war, were
resisted by the Court party at Seoul, headed by the Queen and
the Min family to which she belonged. Early in October, 1895,
the Queen planned a _coup d’état_ with a view to disbanding
the soldiers who had been trained by Japanese officers, and of
replacing the pro-Japanese partisans of reform in the Korean
Cabinet by her friends. The result was a counter-plot (in which
the King’s father, the veteran conspirator Tai Won Kun, was
a prime mover) to seize the King and Queen with the aim of
obtaining complete control of the Korean Government in interest
of the pro-Japanese and reform party. In carrying out this
plot (in which the Japanese Minister Miura seems to have been
an accomplice) the Queen was murdered by Japanese and Korean
ruffians.

“This disgusting crime,” Hershey goes on to say, “although it assured the power of the reform Cabinet for the time being, reacted upon its perpetrators, and was followed, four months later, by another equally revolting, by means of which Russia gained control of the Government of Korea. In January, 1896, there took place a slight uprising in Northern Korea, at the instigation, it was said, of pro-Russian leaders. When the major portion of the army had been sent out of the capital to suppress the rebellion, 127 Russian marines with a cannon suddenly landed at Chemulpo on February 10, and immediately entered Seoul. The next day the King, accompanied by the Crown Prince and some court ladies, fled in disguise to the Russian Legation, where he remained until February 20, 1897.”

Following this escapade the Prime Minister, Kim Hong Chip, a man widely respected and in no way connected with the murder of the Queen, and Chung Pyang Ha, equally innocent of the same crime, were deliberately thrust forth from the palace gates into the hands of the waiting mob, which, in true Korean fashion, tore them limb from limb. Another Minister was killed a few days later in the country. Thus ended Japan’s attempt to enter into friendly relations with Korea while the latter nation was in the anomalous condition of an independent dependency of China. Two valuable results, however, had been reached: Korea had been definitively and finally delivered from Chinese control and dominating influence; and her own inability to stand alone and to inaugurate the needed reforms had been, it would seem, quite sufficiently demonstrated. Japan, on the other hand, had not as yet shown her ability wisely to inaugurate and effectively to secure these reforms; and by the injudicious action of her representative in Korea she had thrown the temporary control of the Korean Court into the selfish and intriguing hands of other foreigners. The events of the next decade, therefore, led logically and irresistibly forward to a yet more desperate struggle, at a yet more frightful cost, to solve the Korean problem.