Although it is etymologically associated with spatial narrowness, parochialism can also be understood in relation to time. It can be said that an unfortunate example of temporal parochialism lies in the West’s perception of China, that not only limits its capacity to comprehend the depths of Chinese civilization, but also diminishes its ability to anticipate the future of Chinese society.
At best only the past 200 years of Chinese history have made some sort of impression upon the West’s collective memory. Compared to the four millennia that have shaped Chinese civilization, this is a narrow temporal span that unavoidably brings with it a distorted representation of the Middle Country.
Restricted by temporal insularity, the West’s recollection of China hardly goes beyond a decaying Qing dynasty (1644-1912), easily defeated in 1839 and 1856 during the First and Second Opium Wars, and whose Mandarins were forced to accept a system of territorial concessions.
This impression of power asymmetry favoring Europe and, later on, the United States of America, both invigorated by their Industrial Revolutions, runs deep. Photography and films, whose early developments took place in the 19th century, recorded and rapidly disseminated what was for China a century of decline. These new communication tools, concomitants of a technological transformation, consolidated a narrative in which the West appeared as the embodiment of modernity.
Having such an ingrained but fragmentary representation of China, and facing China’s rapid ascension following Deng Xiaoping’s “reform and opening up” four decades ago, the West is filled with surprise, if not disbelief. It would not be in such a shock if it were capable of a broader outlook at the Middle Country.
Any effort to enlarge the span of what is remembered about China, or, in other words, any serious attempt to understand the Chinese civilization, introduces a very different perspective. China’s ongoing ascent, its successes since 1978, and the ones that will certainly unfold in the foreseeable future, echo some patterns that have already structured the past two millennia.
In a sense, it is not China’s meteoric return to a central position in global affairs that should be a cause for astonishment, but the fact that it was so rapidly marginalized following the Industrial Revolution.
The succession of Chinese dynasties that came after the Xia (2070-1600 BC) implies a long series of rises and falls. To this fundamental rhythm in Chinese history can be superimposed a cycle in which periods of opening up to the world and of closing off alternate. From an external perspective, and given China’s constant strategic weight, such an alternance between the country’s opening up and its closing off is highly consequential.
The opening up that Deng Xiaoping (1904-1997) initiated was, therefore, a variation on one of the leitmotifs of Chinese history. When these periods of intense exchanges with the outside world took place, in some occurrences lasting several hundred years, China’s material conditions looked highly advantageous by comparison with her known economic partners.
The Silk Road phenomenon, the Tang dynasty, the Song dynasty, and the early Ming period all share the common characteristic of Chinese engagement with the world.
Ferdinand von Richthofen (1833-1905) first used the “Silk Road” expression in 1877 to describe the commercial exchanges between the Han dynasty (202 BC-220 AD) and the Roman Empire. Before him, Edward Gibbon (1737- 1794) had already noted in The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire the importance of the trade in which “silk was immediately delivered to the Romans by the Persian merchants”1.
It is a material good that was traded across Eurasia which has been used retrospectively to describe this early Sino-European connection, and which became a symbol of the relationship between China and the world. In Gibbon’s words, silk was a good that epitomized “rare and elegant luxury”, and whose origin was the Middle Country.
In the chapter previously quoted, Edward Gibbon remarked that “Aurelian complained that a pound of silk was sold in Rome for twelve ounces of gold”. In his Natural History, Pliny the Elder (AD 23-79) calls the inhabitants of northern China the Seres, associating them with the land of Serica, or silk2.
The ubiquity of Richthofen’s formula, which has evolved into a metaphor for cross-fertilization between civilizations, is a phenomenon reminiscent of Marcel Proust (1871-1922). “The past is hidden somewhere outside the realm, beyond the reach of intellect, in some material object which we do not suspect”, wrote Proust in Swann’s Way3. By evoking silk, time is being dilated so the colors, perfumes, and sounds of ancient worlds reappear.
The second illustration of China’s engagement with the world came four centuries after the collapse of the Han dynasty.
The Tang dynasty (618-907) reached a level of affluence that was inseparable from its cosmopolitanism. The title of Mark Edward Lewis’ book on the dynasty that Emperor Gaozu (566-635) established is revealing: China’s Cosmopoli tan Empire4. It is, however, The Golden Peaches of Samarkand, authored by Edward H. Schafer (1913-1991) almost 60 years ago, that remains the most insightful guide to appreciate the society that was centered around Chang’an’s magnificence.
Schafer set the scene:
How Tang China contributed her arts and manners to her neighbors of the medieval Far East, especially to Japan, Korea, Turkestan, Tibet, and Annam, is a rather well-known story. [...] China also played the role of cultural go-between, transmitting the arts of the countries of the West to those of the East [...] The material imports of Tang are not so well known [...].
These imports are the subject of Schafer’s research. He illustrates how Tang China could afford luxury exotic goods, be it horses, leather goods, furs, weapons, ivory, rare woods, drugs, aromatics, textiles, gemstones, industrial minerals, or “dancing girls from the West”5.
It would not have surprised the author of The Golden Peaches of Samarkand to discover that today’s Italian, French, or American luxury brands are increasingly dependent on Chinese consumers.
A further significant period, although slightly less studied by sinologists, is the period spanning the Song dynasty (960-1279). Some analysts, inspired by the work of French historian Fernand Braudel (1902-1985), coined the term “Asian Mediterranean” to capture this geopolitical configuration6. The coastal city of Quanzhou, today in the north of Xiamen, played a pivotal role during this period.
In Records of Foreign People, Zhao Rukuo (1170-1231), the supervisor of maritime trade in Quanzhou, mentioned 58 countries and regions which were doing business in the Chinese port. Notable presences included Africa, the Mediterranean region – Sicily (Sijialiye) –, and the Arab world from Egypt to the Arabian Peninsula. Among the 47 products that he listed as traded goods was, for example, the famous aromatic resin frankincense (ruxiang), which came from Arabia (dashi) to China through Palembang7.
Known as zayton to Marco Polo (1254-1324), Quanzhou left a most positive impression upon the Venetian traveler:
[...] zayton, frequented by all the ships of India, which bring thither spicery and all other kinds of costly wares. It is the port also that is frequented by all the merchants of Manzi [N.B., Polo evokes here the south of China as opposed to its north, Cathay], for hither is imported the most astonishing quantity of goods and of precious stones and pearls, and from this they are distributed all over Manzi. And I assure you that for one shipload of pepper that goes to Alexandria or elsewhere, destined for Christendom, there come a hundred such, aye and more too, to this haven of zayton; for it is one of the two greatest havens in the world of commerce8.
Although he was accused by some of exaggeration, Marco Polo was simply describing genuine opulence. Contemporary Japanese historian Yoshinobu Shiba has meticulously shown in Commerce and Society in Song China that the advancement and prosperity of the dynasty founded by Emperor Taizu (927-976) was unparalleled9. Marco Polo, entering the Far East at the very beginning of the Yuan dynasty (1271-1368), could still witness the splendors of the Song.
The main player of the fourth example of external engagement, which took place at the beginning of the Ming dynasty (1368-1644), is Zheng He (1371-1435), eunuch, diplomat and explorer. Ordered by Emperor Yongle (1360-1424), Zheng He’s seven maritime expeditions are a testimony to China’s might at the dawn of the 15th century.
Zheng He’s voyages preceded both the explorations of Christopher Columbus (1451-1506) and Vasco da Gama (1460-1524), and the navigation technology that underpinned them, as well as the logistics that surrounded them, were well ahead of those of the European navigators. To understand the material resources that were available to him, one must only consider that at one point Zheng He commanded a fleet of around 28,000 sailors and reached the far away coasts of Eastern Africa.
The Overall Survey of the Ocean’s Shores10 that Zheng He’s companion and Arabic interpreter Ma Huan (1380- 1460) composed is a crucial document in grasping the extent of the early Ming’s projection outside its own space. However, Hong Xi (1378-1425), the fourth Emperor of the Ming dynasty, halted this sequence of explorations. Within his two-year reign, the fleet that had sailed Zheng He across the Indian Ocean was abandoned. In this case, the alternation between opening up and closing off took place in a relatively short period of time.
It is evident in its long history that the Middle Country had successful engagements with the world long before its 20th century opening up. These engagements could take the form of diplomatic, political, or cultural interactions, but they were often connected with economic exchanges that have obviously played an important role in the making of China. Traditionally, Chinese society was divided into four categories: the scholars (shi), the farmers (nong), the craftsmen (gong) and the merchants (shang). Within the framework of Confucian ethics, the merchants are considered to have been regarded with suspicion. Nevertheless, their function was recognized and valued.
The title of Wu Jingzi’s (1701-1754) novel, The Scholars (Rulinwaishi), explicitly indicates its main theme. While Wu’s scholars and officials are presented with humor, merchants constitute one of the book’s leitmotifs. Wu’s wit is in full play when he narrates their financial support to candidates preparing for imperial examination, the key to access coveted positions in the celestial bureaucracy11. In a different context two centuries later, Qian Zhongshu (1910-1998) also amused his readers with the games, pedantic and often futile, surrounding academia12.
The panoramic painting Along the River During the Qingming Festival (Qingming Shanghe Tu) also introduces an inspiring vision of economic exchanges. The urban life of the Song Period was captured by Zhang Zeduan (1085- 1145) in a five-meter-long scroll. Viewing it is equivalent to traveling back 1,000 years in time. Depending on their interests – and their mood – the historian aesthete can focus on the architecture, for example the bridges’ design; the boat technology; the variety of craftsmanship; the urban layout; or the clothing of the 764 characters portrayed by the artist. However, Zhang’s creation is not about a person or an isolated object; he painted social life and the commercial exchanges it brings about. Zhang’s brush does not hide business nor disdain it. Rather, it elevates material transactions to the status of indispensable elements to social harmony.
Anyone familiar with contemporary Chinese society would be aware of the business acumen and entrepreneurial spirit of the Zhejiang traders, as well as those from Fujian or Guangdong. But, long before them, the Shanxi merchants or those of Huizhou in Anhui Province were provided enough space to create material wealth that, in many cases, supported craftsmanship and art in an extraordinary manner.
The Shanxi merchants (jinshang) thrived during the last two Chinese dynasties, going beyond traditional commercial exchanges of goods. They were able to develop financial activities which brought them close to modern banking, which is inseparable from capitalism. Since the wealth they accumulated was spent on luxurious constructions, it is still visible across the Shanxi province, such as in the Wang Family’s Grand Courtyard (Wang jiadayuan).
Aside from painting and architecture, the prosperity that materialized in China through opening up and commerce can be seen in the works of its literati. Following the patient labor of Stephen Owen13, Chinese and non-Chinese alike can now appreciate the literary production of the Tang dynasty. The very existence of such a corpus is telling. Over 48,900 poems written by over 2,200 authors have survived the passage of time, as recorded in the Complete Tang Poems (Quan Tangshi) commissioned by Kangxi (1654-1722). Three elements were logically needed for such a phenomenon to happen. It presupposed a dynasty able to nurture such a large number of poets. It implied that their artistic production would be of such a quality that it would transcend the flow of centuries. And, last but not least, it required that the literati who followed would join in the appreciation of such a creative feast.
A later indicator of China’s material advancement is the Dream of the Red Chamber (Honglou Meng). In his description of 18th century Qing social dynamics, and his rendering of human psychology and interactions, Cao Xueqin (1715-1764) penned a novel that anticipated Balzac (1799- 1850) and Proust. Dream of the Red Chamber demonstrates an aesthetic of luxury. It shows a lifestyle where clothing, jewels, food, architecture, and furniture are as exquisite as the Chinese characters that Cao Xueqin uses to give them a literary existence.
It is no coincidence that in the eighties, following Deng Xiaoping’s second revolution, China’s central television made a production of Dream of the Red Chamber, which received widespread applause. With Chen Xiaoxu (1965- 2007) starring as Lin Daiyu, Cao’s beautiful and intelligent tragic heroine, the production was an indication that China had broken with the dark years of the Cultural Revolution. Marco Polo is once again a precious eyewitness on China’s past achievements. Talking about Kinsay, today’s Hangzhou, he couldn’t be clearer: “I will enter into particulars about Kinsay’s magnificence; and these are well worth the telling, for the city is beyond dispute the finest and the noblest in the world”14. Could he be believed upon his return to Venice? He certainly triggered curiosity about the other edge of the Eurasian continent.
In 1954, Joseph Needham posed what is known as “Needham’s Grand Question”. Needham (1900-1995) was one of the 20th century’s most significant sinologists, who explored Chinese mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology, language, and logic in the most rigorous way in his ongoing series of books, Science and Civilization in China. He stated: “I believe that the more you know about Chinese civilization, the more odd it seems that modern science and technology did not develop there”15. This is “Needham’s Grand Question”, and a problem that is felt in proportion to one’s real knowledge of China’s past.
Needham hypothesized that it was Chinese feudal bureaucracy which had been an obstacle to China leading the entry into technological modernity. From another perspective, it can also be argued that what led Europe to the Industrial Revolution was the combination of truly unique elements. The conversation around “Needham’s Grand Question” is certainly not closed.
However, with the end of Imperial China in 1911, and the establishment of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, the Middle Country has entered a new phase in which the causes of its marginalization have been removed. The People’s Republic of China is a new political incarnation of the Chinese civilization, which has succeeded in eradicating the feudalism that caused the Old Regime to decay. Chinese society is once again open to the world and has never been more entrepreneurial and creative. This should be the premise for the observer wishing to anticipate China’s future.
To a certain extent, China’s rejuvenation, which is reminiscent of some of China’s past successes, is completed. However, should the “reform and opening up” be continued, and the creativity of the Chinese people be fostered by the appropriate socio-political environment, a cultural and artistic renaissance will unfold in China and enrich our world in the decades to come.
David Gosset, sinologist, founder of the Europe-China Forum (2002) and of the China-Europe-America Global Initiative (2021, http://www. ourglobalinitiative.com/en
1 E. Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Volume VI, England-Franklin, TN, Naxos Audiobooks Ltd., 2014.
2 G. Plinius Secundus and H. Rackham, Natural history: In 10 volumes. 2: Books 3-7, Cambridge, Mass., Harvard Univ. Press, 2006.
3 M. Proust, Remembrance of Things Past, New York, Vintage Books, 1982.
4 M.E. Lewis, China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty, 1. History of imperial China, Cambridge, Mass., The Belknap Press of Harvard Univ. Press, 2012.
5 E.H. Schafer, The Golden Peaches of Samarkand: A Study of T’ang Exotics, Berkeley, CA, Univ. of California Press, 1985.
6 F. Gipouloux, The Asian Mediterranean: Port Cities and Trading Networks in China, Japan and South Asia, 13th-21st Century, Cheltenham, UK, Edward Elgar, 2011.
7 L.C. Hopkins, “Chau Ju-Kua: His Work on the Chinese and Arab Trade in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries, Entitled Chu Fan Chï. Translated from the Chinese and Annotated by Friedrich Hirth and W.
W. Rockhill. St. Petersburg: Printing Office of the Imperial Academy of Sciences, 1912”, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 44, 1912, 4, pp. 1114-1117.
8 M. Polo, H. Yule, and H. Cordier, The Travels of Marco Polo: The Complete Yule-Cordier Edition: Including the Unabridged Third Edition (1903) of Henry Yule’s Annotated Translation, as Revised by Henri Cordier, Together with Cordier’s Later Volume of Notes and Addenda (1920), New York, Dover Publications, 1993. Like for Paul Pelliot’s notes on The Overall Survey of the Ocean’s Shores, his comments on the Yule edition stand as a monument of erudite sinology: Notes on Marco Polo, Paris, 1959 (posthumous publication).
9 Y. Shiba and M. Elvin, Commerce and Society in Sung China, Mich- igan abstracts of Chinese and Japanese works on Chinese history No. 2, Ann Arbor, University of Michigan, Center for Chinese Studies, 1970.
10 H. Ma, C. Feng, and J.V.G. Mills, Ying-Yai Sheng-Lan = The Overall Survey of the Ocean’s Shores’-1433, Bangkok, White Lotus Press, 1997. The reader who wishes to have a taste of haute sinology would greatly enjoy the perusing of P. Pelliot (1878-1945), Les grands voyages maritimes chinois au début du XVe siècle, in T’oung Pao, Vol. 30, 1933.
11 吴敬梓 and G. Yang, The Scholars, Rockville, MD, Silk Pagoda, 2006. The reader who is interested in the “celestial bureaucracy” can refer to E. Balazs, Bureaucratie céleste, Paris, Gallimard, 1968.
12 z. Qian, J. Kelly, and N.K. Mao, Fortress Besieged = Wei Cheng, New York, New Directions, 2004.
13 F. Du and S. Owen, The Poetry of Du Fu, Boston, De Gruyter, 2015. This can serve as an introduction to the work of Stephen Owen, the most solid bridge between the Tang and the contemporary world.
14 M. Polo, H. Yule, and H. Cordier, The Travels of Marco Polo, cit.
15 J. Needham, Science and Society in Ancient China, London, Watts & Co., 1947.