The History of China - #290 - Qing 25: The End of a (Kangxi) Era

Episode Date: April 17, 2025

Beginning in Beijing, and then expanding out all the way to the "New Frontier" of Dzungaria, we take a survey-altitude view of the final decade-ish of the Kangxi Emperor's life & reign over the Qing Empire Time Period Covered: ~1700-1722 CE Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You're listening to an Airwave Media Podcast. And the head of Oliver Cromwell. The same head they kept on a pike for three years? Yep, all here on History Dispatches. New episodes every weekday. Find out more at HistoryDispatches.com or wherever you get your podcast app. Hello and welcome to the History of China. Episode 290. The end of a Kangxi era. Corruption charges against the Xu brothers, Guo Shu, Min Zhu, and many allies of Songgotu and Prince Inrong, highlighted a persistent challenge for the Kangxi Emperor, and that

was determining when exactly to overlook an official's misconduct and when best to punish it. Effective centralized control relied on accurate information, and the Emperor employed diverse methods to stay informed. These included private talks during court audiences, casual conversations on hunting expeditions, and first-hand observations of towns and rural areas in northern and central China during his frequent tours. On these trips, he often conducted detailed interviews with current or retired local officials. However, the majority of his insights came from memorials, both routine and secret, which allowed him to monitor factional struggles over the succession,

local finances, and the personal conduct of his own officials. The accusations against Xu Tianshui's family from 1689 to 91, which were lodged by commoners and junior degree holders both throughout Kunsheng and Taichang counties and Jiangsu, illustrate the scale of such problems. These charges, often going so far as to name the accuser directly and supported by at least one other local witness, reveal how younger Siu family members terrorized the region. They frequently used threats of violence to seize property deeds from residents. Those who resisted faced beatings, sometimes fatal,

or had their homes destroyed or burned. Other tactics included forcing people into loans or gambling debts, then extracting exorbitant interest through intimidation or violence. Rape allegations were also common. One plaintiff included a list of local collaborators, mostly Tufts tied to District Yaman's staff – official clerks and private secretaries known as Moyu – with a few literati among them. Additional records show the Shu family could muster a gang of about 50 men for assaults. These claims are backed up by other sources, including

secret memorials. In Beijing, judicial proceedings were often disrupted by mounted men who harassed officials opposing powerful families. Elsewhere, children of both sexes were bought, kidnapped, or forcibly taken from decent homes and shipped to Tianjin, the port city sexes were bought, kidnapped, or forcibly taken from decent homes and shipped to Tianjin, the port city nearest to the capital, for sale. These abuses sometimes stemmed from political dynamics in the capital itself. From roughly 1675 to 1690, the Xu family wielded significant influence in Jiangsu, navigating shifting factional alliances. Xu Quanxi initially sided with Mingzhu against Songgotu, but after Songgotu's fall from

favor in 1683, Xu allied with Xiong Sili and Li Guangdi to target Mingzhu, succeeding in his removal for corruption in 1688. Two years later, Mingzhu's relatives retaliated, orchestrating the dismissal of Xu and his brothers. Around the same time, the emperor's confidant Gao Shiqi also lost favor due to corruption charges, leaving Jiang Ying and Li Guangdi as the leading Chinese officials at court. Summarizing Kangxi-era politics is… challenging. Each major shakeup saw dozens of junior officials reassigned or sacked, and influential censors

like Guo Xiu, who sparked many of these downfalls, played complex roles. The political landscape featured Manchu Grand Secretaries and Ministers, Imperial Household Chamberlains, trusted Guard Officials, Banner Generals, Imperial Relatives, Can of Empresses and Concubines, and the Emperor's sons, who by this time were forming their own political factions within court. And as a brief aside, I did want to look into this because I was curious, the Xu family that we're talking about that terrorized the Jiangsu region, I wondered if it had anything to do with the locality in Shanghai that I lived in for many, many years, Xu Hui, or

Xu Jiahui. Turns out, no, that is a different Xu family, although it's the same name, but the Xu Jiahui actually comes from a man named Xu Guangqi, who was one of the early Chinese converts to Christianity in the late Ming dynasty. He's actually quite fascinating. I think I may want to do a one-off kind of biographic episode on him, because he is truly fascinating and it is a personal connection to me. But that is truly aside from the story. Some senior officials amassed vast wealth and office. Gao Shiqi himself owned a large home in northwest Beijing's outer city, additional properties in the capital, and a satin business worth some 400,000 silver tails. In Zhejiang, he held about 15,000 acres of land, plus estates in Hangzhou and Suzhou,

and invested in ventures like threshing mills managed by his own personal agents. Xu Chuanxue had significant stakes in cotton and salt trade, pawn shops, Beijing real estate, including new construction, and extensive Jiangsu land holdings. Mingzhu, even richer, partnered with the An family, dominant in the capital metropolitan area's salt trade. Surviving documents reveal the intricate nature of these enterprises, with officials using aliases, agents, and pressure on local authorities, sometimes even leveraging government funds as their own personal capital. The emperor seemed unperturbed by such activities.

Corrupt officials might be dismissed and sent home, but rarely faced fines or harsher penalties. Throughout his reign, he accepted large donations from officials, fully aware that these funds often came from exploiting their communities. However, this tolerance vanished when corruption overlapped with factions tied to his sons. The succession issue dominated politics from 1703 until Kangxi's death in 1722. Manchu officers like Qi Shiwu and Tohachi, implicated in the heir apparent dispute and accused of corruption, were executed. The emperor permitted moderate corruption, but encouraged censors and others to report

it, using it as a convenient excuse to remove officials when and if the time came. The Kangxi emperor made no major overhaul to imperial finances after taking power. He halted his regent's aggressive pursuit of tax-delinquent Jiangnan landowners, and, after defeating the Jiang family and conquering Taiwan, allowed the coastal residents that had been evacuated miles and miles inward to finally return home. His reign saw steady growth in overseas trade, particularly with Southeast Asia. River control administration, occasionally led by capable figures like Jin Fu, remained largely unchanged, though the Emperor's interest in

Western techniques for measuring river flow and surveying improved outcomes. Taxation patterns persisted, with rural areas caught between tax shortfalls and food scarcity. He offered tax relief as an incentive to local elites and officials, showing a compassionate streak by monitoring food prices, weather, and water supplies. His famine relief measures of one shung of grain per day per victim, double his grandson the Qianlong Emperor's rains rate, reflected this personal concern. Yet severe deprivation and poorly managed famines marked the Kongxi era. In the late 17th century, a depression followed the dynastic transition's population decline,

blending unemployment with labor shortages and a rising silver-to-copper cash value. This depressed land prices and purchases, pushing investors towards more speculative trade, silver hoarding, and usury. The 1688 Wuchang Mutiny, where over 10,000 demobilized Green Standard Army troops seized Hubei's capital for back pay and food, may have heightened his awareness of these issues. The emperor did treat it seriously, overseeing the military response and screening out misled locals from the core mutineers. His peacetime military approach shines through in memorial endorsements.

A 1,300-character palace memorial from Jiangnan commander-in-chief Shi Yi De reveals his thought process. Shi reported weak, undisciplined officers and poor archery skills, but hesitated to name names in an important impeachment memorial, fearing the Ministry of War might replace them with even worse appointees. The emperor noted, all this should be in an open memorial, reserving the secret system for sensitive matters. As Shi's report progressed, requesting seasoned Jili guardsmen to replace inexperienced lieutenants

and addressing patrol boats and rivermarkers, the Emperor grew engaged, writing, quote, I've already sent someone, and so be it, or shi, end quote, signaling his approval. Shih's final points on bandit prevention in garrisons earned praise, again, quote, All this is to the point, but this serious military decline is widespread. Don't act rashly, or you'll spark unforeseen trouble." That refrain of don't cause trouble recurs in his confidential notes again and again, and is indeed one of his key administrative principles throughout the course of his reign. He told his bond servant Cao Yin, who was probing salt monopoly corruption,

Causing trouble is worse than preventing it, end quote. Jiangsu Governor Zhang Baoxing was warned against rumor mongers, while Jiangxi Governor Lang Tingji received advice, quote, be sincere in heart and work and avoid excess trouble, end quote. In 1704, Liangjiang Governor General A'San was chided. Unlike his predecessors, he hadn't stayed quiet, In 1704, Liangjiang Governor General A'San was chided. Unlike his predecessors, he hadn't stayed quiet, underscoring the Emperor's preference for harmony over confrontation, favoring caution, tolerance, and moral persuasion.

Despite his formidable energy in both intellectual and military pursuits, the Kangxi Emperor generally favored maintaining the status quo when it came to provincial administration. More than conservatism, he sought continuity, especially in the appointments of senior military officials. This is clearly illustrated in the career of Shi Yide, who rose to the ranks largely because the Emperor had held great respect for his father, the general Shi Tiping. While on campaign in Western China, the emperor promoted Shi Yide in honor of his father's legacy. Twelve years later, Shi Yide had become commander-in-chief in Jiangnan, one of the most prestigious military positions throughout the empire.

A similar pattern played out with other appointments, including Shilong's son, Shi Shipiao. Once the Kangxi emperor found a competent military officer, he tended to keep him in place. Shi Yide held his post in Jiangnan for five years. Two of his predecessors during Kangxi's reign had held the same position for 13 and 18 years, respectively. This was not unusual. Among both Manchu and Han Chinese generals-in-chief, or jiangjun, throughout Jiangnan, one held office for 20 years and six others served for more than a decade. Two of those six had already spent long periods in lower-level

command roles in the same province before receiving their final promotions. The surviving palace memorials from the Kangxi era reveal much that traditional Chinese historiography often obscures, namely the inner workings of the bureaucracy, how officials earned appointments, how they adapted to local realities, and how closely the emperor monitored their performances. In Zhejiang, Wang Tuzhao learned to distinguish between various types of pirates and assess which groups might benefit most from tax remissions. In Jiangxi, Long Tingji meticulously recorded monthly fluctuations in rice prices, volume sold, and patterns of interprovincial shipments. Eventually, after the emperor instructed him, quote, Hereafter write out your palace memorials in your own hand. If the calligraphy is poor, it does not matter."

Lang Tingji began submitting memorials in his own handwriting. He responded in unpolished script, "...I only had someone write out my memorials for me, because I fear that my bad handwriting might seem disrespectful." At times, the Kangxi emperor used provincial appointments as trials. When he appointed Chen Yuanlong as governor-general of Guangxi, he said, "...you have served many years in the Hanlin Academy. Now I am going to specially try you out in a frontier post, to see what you are like

at doing the job." The experiment, however, seemed not to have met his expectations. After Chen's recall, the Emperor returned to appointing Han Jun Bannermen, those descendants of early Chinese converts to the Qing cause, as the governors of Guangxi. The Emperor was acutely aware of the tensions between Manchu and Han officials. Hanjun Benarmen, mostly descendants of Northeastern Chinese who had submitted to the Qing before or just after the 1644 conquest, occupied a kind of middle ground between the two. The emperor appointed many governors-general and provincial governors from this group.

Another such intermediary class consisted of bond servants, descendants of individuals incorporated into Manchu banners before 1644, many of whom were bilingual and had both Manchu and Chinese heritage. Yet these groups were relatively small, limiting the pool of potential appointees. In official edicts, Kangxi emphasized the need to balance Manchu and Han appointments. In 1712, when tensions between Zhang Boxing, the Chinese governor of Jiangsu, and his Manchu superior Ga Li, the governor-general of Liangjiang, the emperor responded firmly to their mutual accusations of cruelty, incompetence, and corruption, quote, Manchus and Chinese are all my officials. I look on them alike and make no distinctions.

He continued, quote, Manchu officials shall not say that I am partial to the Chinese. And likewise, the Chinese should not claim that he, quote, shelters the Manchu only, end quote. Yet his confidential re-scripts in Manchu paints a somewhat more nuanced picture. Take, for instance, his comments on a 1704 memorial from Ahsan, the Manchu governor-general of Liangjiang, who had risen from humble origins. Kangxi's inter-linear vermilion annotations, sometimes challenging Ahsan's judgment, sometimes teasing or admonishing him for financial missteps, show both scrutiny and affection. Despite the critiques, it's clear that the emperor respected and trusted Ahsan. In one particularly poignant comment, Kangxi wrote, quote,

"...when we are considering the characteristics of particular officials, we should be looking at their actions, not at their words. If what they say is not fully realized, then the actions will not accord with the role. Our Manchu elders used to say, when words are pedantic, they won't accord with reality. Your words are crude, but they really echo my feelings. We who bear the name of Manchus should be true to the way of the Manchus. If we just clumsily follow the method of the Chinese, then we will be laughed at and reviled by them, and we'll have to take the consequences that follow. As a Governor General, you are of average

ability. There's nothing particularly special about you. Manchu generals and their troops work as one. They should be compassionate and frugal. When you were in the Manchu military forces, you were both compassionate and frugal, so I never intervened. Now you are old and approaching death. When it comes time for you to leave your post, if not a single Manchu comes to say goodbye to you, where will any trace of your memory be recorded? As Confucius said, even if one has all the wondrous abilities of the Duke of Jo, but is miserly and arrogant, the rest would not redress the balance." While Imperial critiques could be biting, the emperor generally adopted a laissez-faire

attitude when it came to the financial perks of office. Although he publicly advocated frugality, at times even appearing in threadbare robes at court, his approach was more rhetorical than regulatory. Enormous profits were derived from imperial monopolies, particularly in salt and ginseng. Revenues from salt production and trade, harbor tolls, and internal transit duties were mostly managed by Manchu or Chinese bond servants under the Imperial Household Department, with all surplus funds flowing directly to the throne. Bond servants also ran major imperial textile factories in Suzhou, Nanjing, and Hangzhou. These facilities doubled as

temporary Imperial residences, or traveling palaces, xinggong, during Kangxi's six southern tours between 1684 and 1707. Others managed the large-scale porcelain production at Jingdezhen in Jiangxi, or oversaw the acquisition of rare foreign goods, including surveillance of the thriving Chinese merchant community in Nagasaki, Japan. This fusion of regular and irregular fiscal systems helped to sustain the imperial household's expenditures. In 1712, Kangxi made what he believed would be a symbolic gesture of prosperity by freezing the ding tax at 1711 levels. The ding tax was levied per adult male and tied indirectly to household population. But, as it would turn out, this freeze would have long-term repercussions. Because labor quotas were tied to ding units, local officials had little incentive to report

population growth. The tax base stagnated even as the population continued to rise. Which is a pretty significant own goal. While the immediate effects were subtle, by the Yongzheng and Qianlong rains, census data began to reflect a population that had surpassed 300 million. However, reverence for Kangxi made reversing his decision politically impossible, even as it became economically unsuitable. The Qing state found itself stuck with fiscal assessments that could not account for demographic changes, migration, or even shifts in agricultural production.

This forced the Ministry of Revenue and the Imperial Household Department to lean increasingly on demographic changes, migration, or even shifts in agricultural production. This forced the Ministry of Revenue and the Imperial Household Department to lean increasingly on unofficial and irregular revenue streams. In the final decade of his life, the Kangxi Emperor grew preoccupied with his… legacy. He lamented to his ministers, occasionally pleading for understanding or venting his frustrations. He publicly discussed his health issues—lainness, dizziness, memory loss—and privately worried over his succession.

This uncertainty marked the last instance in Qing history of a form of fraternal competition for the throne, reminiscent of older Mongol and Manchu traditions of tennestry. Of all his administrative innovations, only the palace memorial system endured meaningfully. Under his successor, the Yongzheng emperor, it was expanded into a vital channel of information and integrated into the command structure that would become the Grand Council, or the Junji-chu, the very nerve center of Qing governance in its mid and later stages. On to the topic of imperial patronage of learning and culture, the Kangxi emperor understood the importance of cultural legitimacy in ruling a predominantly Han Chinese empire,

and he made significant efforts to support scholarship and learning. Though his initial informal instruction in the Chinese language came from eunuchs and palace attendants. He soon embarked on a disciplined and sustained program of classical study. In 1690, the 16 moral maxims were issued in the young emperor's name. While likely composed with the help of Han Chinese advisors, these maxims marked the beginning of a serious personal engagement with Confucian learning. Reports of Kangxi's intense sessions with classical scholars, working line by line through the Confucian canon, are not empty formalities. They reflect a genuine intellectual commitment that

also served a political purpose, reinforcing the Qing dynasty's legitimacy through mastery of Han Chinese cultural ideals. This same agenda underpinned Kangxi's launch of the special Bo Shui Hongru, or the broad learning and great virtue, Examination, in 1697, aimed at recruiting erudite scholars. It also informed his careful balancing of provincial and central governmental posts between Manchus and Han Chinese, and the orchestration of six symbolic southern tours to the Yangzi River Delta, and the orchestration of six symbolic southern tours to the Yangtze River Delta, once a hotbed of resistance to Qing rule throughout the 1640s.

Under Kangxi, imperial scholarship reached a high level of sophistication. Although the official history of the Ming dynasty was plagued by delays and political disagreements, other literary projects progressed smoothly. Notable among these was the Peiwen Yunfu, a rhyming thesaurus compiled by Chinese scholars, and the massive Complete Tang Poems anthology, both printed with funding and logistical support from Cao Yin, a powerful bond servant and textile commissioner based in Nanjing. Work on the Gujin Tu Shu Ji Cheng, an encyclopedic compilation of texts arranged by subject, wavered between imperial sponsorship and editorial infighting, but upon completion, it stood as a towering achievement in Chinese scholarly history.

Meanwhile, the emperor kept close watch over other cultural initiatives, such as the production of bilingual Chinese Manchu editions of the Confucian classics, and the Manchu translation of the Ming-era picaresque Buddhist novel Xi Youji, the famous Journey to the West. Imperial commissions extended to the fields of mathematics, astronomy, geography, and philology. The Kangxi Zidian, an authoritative dictionary of Chinese characters, became a landmark reference work, on par with the Oxford English Dictionary.

These projects not only enhanced the scholarly aura of the reign, but also provided employment, often quite lucrative, for a wide range of literati. The Kangxi Emperor, of course, was not the only patron of learning. His elder half-brother, Fu Qian, established a scholarly retreat in his Beijing garden, the Mukeng Yuan. His third son, Yinzhi, supported scholars like Chen Menglei in assembling the sources for the Gujin Tu-shu-ji-cheng. Favorite officials such as Xu Qian-shui and Cao Yin also maintained active circles of patronage in the Jiangnan region,

attracting and supporting a vibrant scholarly community in the south. Artists benefited from imperial support as well. Although the prestige of court painters had declined during the late Ming, it revived under Kangxi. Painters such as Zhang Zhao, Jiang Tingshi, Zhao Bingzhen, and Leng Mei served in institutions like the Southern Study and the Hanlin Academy. Some even adopted European artistic techniques, especially chiaroscuro and linear perspective, taught by Jesuit painters such as Giuseppe Girardi and the young Giuseppe Castiglione. Traditional Chinese styles, especially landscape painting, flourished anew under masters like Wang Hui and the other Four Wangs.

Even Manchu artists, including Bo Erzu, contributed to this cultural revival. Kangxi's ceremonial tours and court festivities were immortalized in large, elegant scrolls, such as the Wan Shou Sheng Dian by Wang Yuanchi, created for the Emperor's 60th birthday, and the Nanxun Shengdian, directed by Wang Hui, commemorating the Southern Tours. These works, reproduced as painted scrolls, ink outlines, and woodblock prints, employed countless painters and artisans. Their high craftsmanship stood in stark contrast to the inferior woodblock prints produced under the Qianlong Emperor to mark similar

events two generations later. Prominent scholar officials such as Xiong Celí, Zhang Boxing, and Li Guangji held influential positions within the Qing bureaucracy. Under their influence, Kangxi came to favor the Zhuxi school of Confucian interpretation, and sponsored new editions of Zhuxi's writings and those of other Song dynasty thinkers associated with the Daoshui, or learning of the way. Yet in private, particularly in his Manchu language rescripts, the emperor sometimes voiced skepticism, or even sarcasm, toward Confucian moralism. In one instance, responding to the renowned scholar official Zhang Boxing, who frequently invoked the Confucian concepts of li, or principle, and xing, or human nature, the emperor remarked that Zhang's political conduct betrayed little understanding of either.

Nevertheless, Kangxi generally refrained from persecuting scholars for their writings. The most infamous exception was Dai Mingshi, who placed second in the 1709 Jin She examinations. Dai was executed in 1713 for expressing interest in the Southern Ming resistance regimes and for referring to post-1644 dates using Ming reign titles, a transgression that the court interpreted as treasonous. While grim, this case was highly unusual, and should not overshadow the overall tolerance and engagement that marked the Kangxi reign. As an emperor, Kangxi was imaginative, intellectually curious, and remarkably inclusive in his recruitment

of talent. Qing emperors are often portrayed as remote figures, extracting wealth from their subjects while offering little in return. Kangxi, however, broke from this mold. He worked to engage with his empire's cultural traditions, reach across ethnic divisions, and patronize a wide range of intellectual and artistic projects. And to a surprising degree, he succeeded. Where we are going to turn now is away from the capital and the palace and all the goings-on of Kangxi, and back out to the hinterlands, to the west, Jungaria.

The death of Galdan Bosugtu Khan in 1697 didn't spell the end of the Jungars, not by a long shot. Under the leadership of his nephew and successor, Sewhwang Rabdan, who ruled from 1697 until 1727, the Jungar Khanate actually hit what some consider to be its peak. Sehwang Rabdan's son, Galdan Serin, would go on to not only hold the state together, but actually humiliate the Qing, ambushing a large army and forcing it into retreat. But despite that high point, just 15 years after Galdon Saren's death, the Jungars would be gone. Completely. Not just defeated, but annihilated. When succession disputes and infighting tore the Jungar leadership apart, the young and ambitious

Qianlong Emperor pounced. The Qing victory may seem sudden in retrospect, but it was anything but inevitable. Throughout the 1700s, the Qing, the Jungars, and the Russians maintained a precarious peace, trading as much as fighting. But from 1700 until the death of the Kangxi emperor in 1722, the frontier of Turkestan remained mostly quiet. But the Qing's involvement in Tibet cracked open a new theater of competition. The 1720s would become a turning point. Kangxi died in 1722, Tsar Peter the Great in 1725, and Sehwang Rabdan in 1727. The next generation of rulers stepped in almost all at once, but

they lacked the fire of their predecessors. Among them, Galdon Seren would be the one to stand out. He ruled the longest and arguably with the most success. Meanwhile, the Yongzheng Emperor, Kangxi's son, initially played it quite cautious. But that would not last. He launched a reckless campaign into Mongolia, which ended in disaster, and forced him to settle for an uneasy truce. He shifted gears, turning instead to economic pressure as his main lever of influence in

Central Asia. In 1727, the Russians finally got their long-desired access to the Qing market by opening the frontier town of Kyakhta. But trade didn't quite meet their expectations. Galdan Sarin, however, was thriving. He kept his state intact, leveraged commerce to strengthen his position, and stayed balanced between the two expanding empires. This whole period wasn't just about conflict. In fact, none of the empires were on a single-minded path of

conquest or militarism. If anything, a nationalist narrative of any stripe tends to oversimplify what was in fact a far more complex web of diplomacy, trade, and political maneuvering. It was an era full of surprises. To rewind a bit, let's meet Tséhwang Rabdan himself. He was the son of Tsengah, Galdan's brother, the same brother whose assassination dragged Galdan out of Tibet and back into the Jungar power struggle. By the time that Galdan was consolidating his own power, Tewang Rabdan was already a

grown man, and with a serious grudge. Galdan had kidnapped a princess Tewang Rabdan had been supposed to marry, and even sent assassins after him. Tewang Rabdan escaped into the Bortula Valley and managed to hold his own in battle against his uncle. When Galdan moved east in 1690 to interfere in the Calca-Mongol succession crisis, Cewang Rabdan made his move, expanding into Khabdo, right behind Galdan's back. After Galdan's crushing defeat at Ulan-Butong in 1690, Cewang Rabdan's power surged.

He even proposed dividing the Jungar Empire, an offer that Galadon refused. As the Khan geared up for yet another showdown with Great Qing in 1696, Sehwan Rabdan made a secret contact with the Qing, offering to hand over his uncle. In return, he asked for Muslim merchants who had fled into Qing territory to be sent back, and for the right to send tribute missions of up to 300 men to Beijing. That would give him both legitimacy and access to valuable trade goods from the empire. Upon Galdan's final defeat and death in 1697, Sawan Rabdan stood in full uncontested control. But himself lacking in Chinggisid lineage, he could not claim the ancient title of Khan. Instead, he took the title Ardini Zorgitu Hongtaiji, granted by the Dalai Lama in 1694. For their part, the Russians referred to him as Khantaisha.

Rather than take on the Qing directly, he focused westward toward the Kazakhs. In 1698-99, Tsewang Rabdan launched a series of attacks on Kazakh groups along the Irtysh and Lower Shi'ar rivers. Ostensibly, this was retaliation for a blocked trade mission, but the true motive was far more elemental. Naldan's defeats had cost the Jengar's key pasture lands to the east, and Tsewang Rabdan needed to recover them somehow or another. His armies therefore drove the Kazakhs westward, thereby securing the fertile lower Shiar and Upper Irtysh valleys.

They weren't just good for grazing, they were also critical to controlling the trade routes into and out of Turkestan. Meanwhile, the Russians were making their own moves. As of 1714, Peter the Great launched Russia's first serious Central Asian expedition. Lieutenant Colonel Ivan Buchholz led the force down the Irtysh to the future site of Semepalinsk, building a small fort along the way. Officially, the goal was to reroute the gold trade through Tobolsk in Siberia. Unofficially, Bokoltz was instructed to look for ancient books and manuscripts that might hint at gold veins or other treasures. The mission did not go as planned. Disease, frequent harassment and raids by the Kazakhs,

and a lack of support forced Bokoltz's expedition into an ignominious retreat. support forced Bokolt's expedition into an ignominious retreat. Still, it was a starting point, something to build off of. In 1716, the Russians founded the fortress of Omsk, followed by others like Öst-Kamenegorsk and Semi-Palatinsk. Rather than confront the Dzungars directly, the Russians cultivated Kazakh allies and expanded their trade networks. While the Russians played it safe, the Jungars did not. In the early 1710s, Sehwang Rabdan devastated the Kazakh hordes, and by 1718 had control of much of the Middle Horde's territory. Some Kazakhs fled, others submitted, but full integration into the Jungar system never really

happened. Resistance remained strong if fragmented. Sehwang Rabdan died in 1727, and his son, Galdan Serin, succeeded him peacefully. This new leader of the Jungars was no pushover. He stabilized the state, kept peace with both the Qing and the Russians, and managed to conduct trade deftly. But after his death in 1745, the whole thing unraveled. Civil War broke out, competing noble families and rival claimants tore the state apart,

and the military collapsed into disarray. By the 1710s, the Kangxi Emperor was more determined than ever to bring the entire Zhenggar realm under Qing control. It was the culmination of a lifelong ambition. To unify all the Mongol peoples and secure the northern frontier once and for all. The plan? A sweeping military campaign, marching west from Beijing to conquer the Yili Valley. But not everyone thought that this was a good idea.

One outspoken critic was Liu Tangxun, a minister who'd grown up in Suzhou and served in Shanxi. He knew the Northwest well. He'd seen the terrain, inspected the roads, and understood the limits of the Qing state's infrastructure. Liu warned repeatedly that the whole operation was simply too big, too expensive, and frankly, too dangerous. In 1717, he delivered a lengthy memorial to Kangxi, practically begging him to pull back from the frontier and let Liu resign from office. He didn't mince words, quote, I have repeatedly observed that many projects are not beneficial. The border region has suffered bitter hardships. The local officials have exhausted all their revenues, and the people are weary and complaining.

Soldiers and horses are exhausted, and transportation is very difficult. If we cannot take the enemy's territory and we cannot get our troops back in time, they will be seriously endangered. This is not a good plan." Kangxi was furious. He rejected Liu's repeated requests to resign, seeing them as challenges to his authority. Eventually, though, he did relent, and Liu was replaced by Jiang Tingxi, a prominent scholar from the Hanlin Academy and co-editor of the Great Qing Compendium of Statutes. Unlike Liu, Jiang embraced Kangxi's ambitions. He even used his famous calligraphy skills to produce grand formal scrolls of imperial proclamations, rallying the troops and commoners alike. To some in the court, Kangxi's obsession with conquering the Jungars felt personal,

almost like a grudge match against Sehwang Rabdan, Gadan's successor and nephew. Even while gravely ill, Kangxi dispatched Chinese and Muslim agents to spread disinformation and ordered offensives whenever he thought the Jungars were vulnerable. But things hadn't gone to plan. The Jungars were no longer like Galdan's scattered remnants once had been. They'd by this point built a solid base on the Ili River, and Qing troops were largely flying blind, with no good maps or solid intel. One mapmaker famously estimated that a march from Hami to Urumqi would take about a month,

since the two towns were only a few centimeters apart on the map. Needless to say, that was a bit off. Troops set off across the desert, hoping for a resupply. But the grass ran out, the expedition stalled, and 600 men ultimately had to turn back from the march between Barkol and Urumqi. Their commander blamed the soldiers for not packing enough dry food. A minister shot back that they had brought dry food, they just couldn't survive the trip. With information like that, it cannot be any surprise that Kangxi's grand dream of reaching Yi Li and subduing the Jungars once and for all collapsed.

After 1718, the frontier stabilized. The Qing held onto Barkhol, and forged alliances with local leaders in Hami and Turfan. Slowly, but surely, they turned caravan routes into military roads. Trade picked up. Supply lines grew longer. The Qing didn't achieve total victory, but they laid the groundwork for a deeper push into Central Asia and the generations to follow. The Kangxi Emperor died in December of 1722. His son, the Yongzheng Emperor, who would

reign from 1723 to 1735, took the throne after a difficult succession. Once in power, Yongzheng turned inward. In 1724, he told his generals that he wouldn't authorize any more campaigns unless success was guaranteed. A year later, he issued a firm directive, quote, No troops be sent to the interior of the enemy territory, end quote. Yongzheng Liuxi was shifting strategies. He fortified Hami and turned it into a garrison town, paying stipends to the sons of local Muslim leaders for the trouble. In 1726, he renamed the town Qingxi, or Pure Stream, and ordered officials to hang imperial plaques on government buildings.

He also started treating Muslim leaders across the southern oases as ministerial vassals, demanding now regular tribute. These moves marked a new phase in Qing's frontier policy. But as for the Jungars themselves, well, they were far from finished. Soamrabdan's son, Galdan Sarin, rose to power after his father's death in 1727, and he turned out to be a quite capable ruler. That same year, he signed the Treaty of Bura with the Russians, granting Russia permission to build a fortress at Ust-Kamengorosk and to trade at designated border posts. The Djungars also began expanding influence into Tibet, pushing into Amdo and challenging

Qing allies. This would draw a military response. The Yongzheng Emperor sent troops into Amdo in the 1730s, where they fought bitterly to push back Djungar forces. But even then, Qing officials warned against escalating any further. One of them, the Minister of War, admitted, quote, the number of carts required for transport would be immense, and the difficulty of supply lines is hard to describe. End quote.

The Qing military had reached the edge of its logistical capabilities. Galdan Seren's Jungars were still out of reach. All that would change beginning in the 1750s under the Qianlong Emperor. In 1754, a civil war broke out among the Zhengars, and Qianlong seized the opportunity. By 1755, Qing forces captured the Zhenggar capital of Yili and proclaimed the creation of a new province, Xinjiang, literally meaning the New Frontier. But that was just the beginning. A major Zhenggar rebellion erupted in 1756.

Qianlong ordered a massive retaliatory campaign, one that modern historians now call a genocide. Tens of thousands of Zhenggar were slaughtered. Famine and disease killed tens of thousands more. By 1758, the Jungars had been effectively annihilated as a political and as an ethnic group. The rebellion, however, was not limited to the North. In Kashgar, two Muslim leaders, known as the Koja Brothers, led another revolt, calling for a general uprising. Qing troops eventually defeated them, captured the brothers, and brought them to Beijing for execution. Afterward, Qianlong moved quickly

to lock down the region. He built garrison towns and forced tens of thousands of troops and settlers to relocate to Xinjiang. Local governments were restructured to ensure loyalty to Beijing. While Qianlong made a show of respecting Islamic customs, his officials often interfered in religious life, regulating mosques, censoring leaders and imposing imperial authority. In all, the conquest of Xinjiang was the largest single territorial expansion in Qing history. It opened new trade routes through Central Asia and cemented Qing power in the region, but it also came at an enormous cost, in lives, money, and in long-term imperial instability.

Qing rule in Xinjiang combined with direct military force and indirect governance. In the north, they built forts and stationed bannermen. In the south, they relied on Muslim leaders known as Begs to administer local affairs. These Begs received titles, stipends, and symbols of Qing authority so long as they stayed loyal. The system was flexible, but very much top-down. Begs could enforce Islamic law and customs, but they answered to Qing officials and had to send tribute and host imperial envoys.

If they lost control of their territory or disobeyed an imperial order, the Qing would respond with force. Rebellions would be crushed, and garrisons were always nearby. The Qing also redrew the maps, renamed cities, and reclassified entire populations. Yarkand became Shaqe. The region, once part of the Islamic world, was now the Western regions, or Xinjiang. These symbolic changes reinforced the idea that this was Qing territory, politically, culturally, and administratively. They gathered intelligence, too, conducting censuses,

drawing maps, and studying local genealogies. It helped them govern, of course, but it also imposed a distinctly Qing lens on the region as a whole. Central Asia became a place to be studied, categorized, and ultimately controlled. Still, not everyone in the Qing court was fully on board this program. Some officials were disturbed by the brutality of the campaigns. Others worried about the long-term sustainability of ruling such a distant and diverse frontier. But the Qianlong Emperor persisted in seeing it differently.

He treated the conquest of Xinjiang as the jewel of his imperial crown. He celebrated with massive pageantry, commissioning paintings, poems, and monuments, all singing, all dancing, all smiling. He even launched the Sikuchunshu, or the complete library of the four treasuries, as a cultural counterpart to his military victory. To Qianlong, Xinjiang was proof of Qing power and legitimacy. But beneath the triumph lay constant tension. The region would require endless subsidies, constant military patrols, and delicate diplomacy.

It was where Qing ideals collided with the hard realities of the frontier. But all that still lies before us in the episodes, decades, and centuries still to come. Until then, keep singing, keep dancing, and keep smiling. Always at all times. And remember, you are being watched. Good night, good luck, and as always, thanks for listening. Why do rivers curve? Why do the T-Rex have such tiny arms? And why do so many more kids need glasses now than they used to? Spoiler alert, it isn't screen time. Our team of scientists digs into the research

and breaks it down into a short, entertaining explanation jam-packed with science facts and terrible puns. Subscribe to MinuteEarth wherever you like to listen.