Chapter 10
We travelled to China from Marseilles in a French boat called Portos. Just before we left London, we learned that, owing to a case of plague on board, the sailing would be delayed for three weeks. We did not feel, however, that we could go through all the business of saying goodbye a second time, so we went to Paris and spent the three weeks there. During this time I finished my book on Russia, and decided, after much hesitation, that I would publish it. To say anything against Bolshevism was, of course, to play into the hands of reaction, and most of my friends took the view that one ought not to say what one thought about Russia unless what one thought was favourable. I had, however, been impervious to similar arguments from patriots during the War, and it seemed to me that in the long run no good purpose would be served by holding one's tongue. The matter was, of course, much complicated for me by the question of my personal relations with Dora. One hot summer night, after she had gone to sleep, I got up and sat on the balcony of our room and contemplated the stars. I tried to see the question without the heat of party passion and imagined myself holding a conversation with Cassiopeia. It seemed to me that I should be more in harmony with the stars if I published what I thought about Bolshevism than if I did not. So I went on with the work and finished the book on the night before we started for Marseilles.
The bulk of our time in Paris, however, was spent in a more frivolous manner, buying frocks suitable for the Red Sea, and the rest of the trousseau required for unofficial marriage. After a few days in Paris, all the appearance of estrangement which had existed between us ceased, and we became gay and light-hearted. There were, however, moments on the boat when things were difficult. I was sensitive because of the contempt that Dora had poured on my head for not liking Russia. I suggested to her that we had made a mistake in coming away together, and that the best way out would be to jump into the sea. This mood, however, which was largely induced by the heat, soon passed.
The voyage lasted five or six weeks, so that one got to know one's fellow-passengers pretty well. The French people mostly belonged to the official classes. They were much superior to the English, who were rubber planters and business men. There were rows between the English and the French, in which we had to act as mediators. On one occasion the English asked me to give an address about Soviet Russia. In view of the sort of people that they were, I said only favourable things about the Soviet Government, so there was nearly a riot, and when we reached Shanghai our English fellow-passengers sent a telegram to the Consulate General in Peking, urging that we should not be allowed to land. We consoled ourselves with the thought of what had befallen the ring-leader among our enemies at Saigon. There was at Saigon an elephant whose keeper sold bananas which the visitors gave to the elephant. We each gave him a banana, and he made us a very elegant bow, but our enemy refused, whereupon the elephant squirted dirty water all over his immaculate clothes, which also the keeper had taught him to do. Perhaps our amusement at this incident did not increase his love of us.
When we arrived at Shanghai there was at first no one to meet us. I had had from the first a dark suspicion that the invitation might be a practical joke, and in order to test its genuineness I had got the Chinese to pay my passage money before I started. I thought that few people would spend £125 on a joke, but when nobody appeared at Shanghai our fears revived, and we began to think we might have to creep home with our tails between our legs. It turned out, however, that our friends had only made a little mistake as to the time of the boat's arrival. They soon appeared on board and took us to a Chinese hotel, where we passed three of the most bewildering days that I have ever experienced. There was at first some difficulty in explaining about Dora. They got the impression that she was my wife, and when we said that this was not the case, they were afraid that I should be annoyed about their previous misconception. I told them that I wished her treated as my wife, and they published a statement to that effect in the Chinese papers. From the first moment to the last of our stay in China, every Chinese with whom we came in contact treated her with the most complete and perfect courtesy, and with exactly the same deference as would have been paid to her if she had been in fact my wife. They did this in spite of the fact that we insisted upon her always being called 'Miss Black'.
Our time in Shanghai was spent in seeing endless people, Europeans, Americans, Japanese, and Koreans, as well as Chinese. In general the various people who came to see us were not on speaking terms with each other; for instance, there could be no social relations between the Japanese and the Korean Christians who had been exiled for bomb-throwing. (In Korea at that a time a Christian was practically synonymous with a bomb-thrower.) So we had to put our guests at separate tables in the public room, and move round from table to table throughout the day. We had also to attend an enormous banquet, at which various Chinese made after-dinner speeches in the best English style, with exactly the type of joke which is demanded of such an occasion. It was our first experience of the Chinese, and we were somewhat surprised by their wit and fluency. I had not realised until then that a civilised Chinese is the most civilised person in the world. Sun Yat-sen invited me to dinner, but to my lasting regret the evening he suggested was after my departure, and I had to refuse. Shortly after this he went to Canton to inaugurate the nationalist movement which afterwards conquered the whole country, and as I was unable to go to Canton, I never met him.
Our Chinese friends took us for two days to Hangchow to see the Western Lane. The first day we went round it by boat, and the second day in chairs. It was marvellously beautiful, with the beauty of ancient civilisation, surpassing even that of Italy. From there we went to Nanking, and from Nanking by boat to Hankow. The days on the Yangtse were as delightful as the days on the Volga had been horrible. From Hankow we went to Changsha, where an educational conference was in progress. They wished us to stay there for a week, and give addresses every day, but we were both exhausted and anxious for a chance to rest, which made us eager to reach Peking. So we refused to stay more than twenty-four hours, in spite of the fact that the Governor of Hunan in person held out every imaginable inducement, including a special train in all the way to Wuchang.
However, in order to do my best to conciliate the people of Changsha, I gave four lectures, two after-dinner speeches, and an after-lunch speech, during the twenty-four hours. Changsha was a place without modern hotels, and the missionaries very kindly offered to put us up, but they made it clear that Dora was to stay with one set of missionaries, and I with another. We therefore thought it best to decline their invitation, and stayed at a Chinese hotel. The experience was not altogether pleasant. Armies of bugs walked across the bed all through the night.
The Tuchun1 gave a magnificent banquet, at which we first met the Deweys, who behaved with great kindness, and later, when I became ill, John Dewey treated us both with singular helpfulness. I was told that when he came to see me in the hospital, he was much touched by my saying, 'We must make a plan for peace' at a time when everything else that I said was delirium. There were about a hundred guests at the Tuchun's banquet. We assembled in one vast hall and then moved into another for the feast, which was sumptuous beyond belief. In the middle of it the Tuchun apologised for the extreme simplicity of the fare, saying that he thought we should like to see how they lived in everyday life rather than to be treated with any pomp. To my intense chagrin, I was unable to think of a retort in kind, but I hope the interpreter made up for my lack of wit. We left Changsha in the middle of a lunar eclipse, and saw bonfires being lit and heard gongs beaten to frighten off the Heavenly Dog, according to the traditional ritual of China on such occasions. From Changsha, we travelled straight through to Peking, where we enjoyed our first wash for ten days.
1 The military Governor of the Province.
Our first months in Peking were a time of absolute and complete happiness. All the difficulties and disagreements that we had had were completely forgotten. Our Chinese friends were delightful. The work was interesting, and Peking itself inconceivably beautiful.
We had a house boy, a male cook and a rickshaw boy. The house boy spoke some English and it was through him that we made ourselves intelligible to the others. This process succeeded better than it would have done in England. We engaged the cook sometime before we came to live in our house and told him that the first meal we should want would be dinner some days hence. Sure enough, when the time came, dinner was ready. The house boy knew everything. One day we were in need of change and we had hidden what we believed to be a dollar in an old table. We described its whereabouts to the house boy and asked him to fetch it. He replied imperturbably, 'No, Madam. He bad.' We also had the occasional services of a sewing woman. We engaged her in the winter and dispensed with her services in the summer. We were amused to observe that while, in winter, she had been very fat, as the weather grew warm, she became gradually very thin, having replaced the thick garments of winter gradually by the elegant garments of summer. We had to furnish our house which we did from the very excellent second-hand furniture shops which abounded in Peking. Our Chinese friends could not understand our preferring old Chinese things to modern furniture from Birmingham. We had an official interpreter assigned to look after us. His English was very good and he was especially proud of his ability to make puns in English. His name was Air Chao and, when I showed him an article that I had written called 'Causes of the Present Chaos', he remarked, 'Well, I suppose, the causes of the present Chaos are the previous Chaos.' I became a close friend of his in the course of our journeys. He was engaged to a Chinese girl and I was able to remove some difficulties that had impeded his marriage. I still hear from him occasionally and once or twice he and his wife have come to see me in England.
I was very busy lecturing, and I also had a seminar of the more advanced students. All of them were Bolsheviks except one, who was the nephew of the Emperor. They used to slip off to Moscow one by one. They were charming youths, ingenuous and intelligent at the same time, eager to know the world and to escape from the trammels of Chinese tradition. Most of them had been betrothed in infancy to old-fashioned girls, and were troubled by the ethical question whether they would be justified in breaking the betrothal to marry some girl of modern education. The gulf between the old China and the new was vast, and family bonds were extraordinarily irksome for the modern-minded young man. Dora used to go to the Girls' Normal School, where those who were to be teachers were being trained. They would put to her every kind of question about marriage, free love, contraception, etc., and she answered all their questions with complete frankness. Nothing of the sort would have been possible in any similar European institution. In spite of their freedom of thought, traditional habits of behaviour had a great hold upon them. We occasionally gave parties to the young men of my seminar and the girls at the Normal School. The girls at first would take refuge in a room to which they supposed no men would penetrate, and they had to be fetched out and encouraged to associate with males. It must be said that when once the ice was broken, no further encouragement was needed.
The National University of Peking for which I lectured was a very remarkable institution. The Chancellor and the Vice-Chancellor were men passionately devoted to the modernising of China. The Vice-Chancellor was one of the most whole-hearted idealists that I have ever known. The funds which should have gone to pay salaries were always being appropriated by Tuchuns, so that the teaching was mainly a labour of love. The students deserved what their professors had to give them. They were ardently desirous of knowledge, and there was no limit to the sacrifices that they were prepared to make for their country. The atmosphere was electric with the hope of a great awakening. After centuries of slumber, China was becoming aware of the modern world, and at that time the sordidnesses and compromises that go with governmental responsibility had not yet descended upon the reformers. The English sneered at the reformers, and said that China would always be China. They assured me that it was silly to listen to the frothy talk of half-baked young men; yet within a few years those half-baked young men had conquered China and deprived the English of many of their most cherished privileges.
Since the advent of the Communists to power in China, the policy of the British towards that country has been somewhat more enlightened than that of the United States, but until that time the exact opposite was the case. In 1926, on three separate occasions, British troops fired on unarmed crowds of Chinese students, killing and wounding many. I wrote a fierce denunciation of these outrages, which was published first in England and then throughout China. An American missionary in China, with whom I corresponded, came to England shortly after this time, and told me that indignation in China had been such as to endanger the lives of all Englishmen living in that country. He even said - though I found this scarcely credible - that the English in China owed their preservation to me, since I had caused infuriated Chinese to conclude that not all Englishmen are vile. However that may be, I incurred the hostility, not only of the English in China, but of the British Government.
White men in China were ignorant of many things that were common knowledge among the Chinese. On one occasion my bank (which was American) gave me notes issued by a French bank, and I found that Chinese tradesmen refused to accept them. My bank expressed astonishment, and gave me other notes instead. Three months later, the French bank went bankrupt, to the surprise of all other white banks in China.
The Englishman in the East, as far as I was able to judge of him, is a man completely out of touch with his environment. He plays polo and goes to his club. He derives his ideas of native culture from the works of eighteenth-century missionaries, and he regards intelligence in the East with the same contempt which he feels for intelligence in his own country. Unfortunately for our political sagacity, he overlooks the fact that in the East intelligence is respected, so that enlightened Radicals have an influence upon affairs which is denied to their English counterparts. MacDonald went to Windsor in knee-breeches, but the Chinese reformers showed no such respect to their Emperor, although our monarchy is a mushroom growth of yesterday compared to that of China.
My views as to what should be done in China I put into my book The Problem of China and so shall not repeat them here.
In spite of the fact that China was in a ferment, it appeared to us, as compared with Europe, to be a country filled with philosophic calm. Once a week the mail would arrive from England, and the letters and newspapers that came from there seemed to breathe upon us a hot blast of insanity like the fiery heat that comes from a furnace door suddenly opened. As we had to work on Sundays, we made a practice of taking a holiday on Mondays, and we usually spent the whole day in the Temple of Heaven, the most beautiful building that it has ever been my good fortune to see. We would sit in the winter sunshine saying little, gradually absorbing peace, and would come away prepared to face the madness and passion of our own distracted continent with poise and calm. At other times, we used to walk on the walls of Peking. I remember with particular vividness a walk one evening starting at sunset and continuing through the rise of the full moon.
The Chinese have (or had) a sense of humour which I found very congenial. Perhaps communism has killed it, but when I was there they constantly reminded me of the people in their ancient books. One hot day two fat middle-aged business men invited me to motor into the country to see a certain very famous half-ruined pagoda. When we reached it, I climbed the spiral staircase, expecting them to follow, but on arriving at the top I saw them still on the ground. I asked why they had not come up, and with portentous gravity they replied:
'We thought of coming up, and debated whether we should do so. Many weighty arguments were advanced on both sides, but at last there was one which decided us. The pagoda might crumble at any moment, and we felt that, if it did, it would be well there should be those who could bear witness as to how the philosopher died.'
What they meant was that it was hot and they were fat.
Many Chinese have that refinement of humour which consists in enjoying a joke more when the other person cannot see it. As I was leaving Peking a Chinese friend gave me a long classical passage microscopically engraved by hand on a very small surface; he also gave me the same passage written out in exquisite calligraphy. When I asked what it said, he replied: 'Ask Professor Giles when you get home.' I took his advice, and found that it was 'The Consultation of the Wizard', in which the wizard merely advises his clients to do whatever they like. He was poking fun at me because I always refused to give advice to the Chinese as to their immediate political difficulties.
The climate of Peking in winter is very cold. The wind blows almost always from the north, bringing an icy breath from the Mongolian mountains. I got bronchitis, but paid no attention to it. It seemed to get better, and one day, at the invitation of some Chinese friends, we went to a place about two hours by motorcar from Peking, where there were hot springs. The hotel provided a very good tea, and someone suggested that it was unwise to eat too much tea as it would spoil one's dinner. I objected to such prudence on the ground that the Day of Judgement might intervene. I was right, as it was three months before I ate another square meal. After tea, I suddenly began to shiver, and after I had been shivering for an hour or so. we decided that we had better get back to Peking at once. On the way home, our car had a puncture, and by the time the puncture was mended, the engine was cold. By this time, I was nearly delirious, but the Chinese servants and Dora pushed the car to the top of a hill, and on the descent the engine gradually began to work. Owing to the delay, the gates of Peking were shut when we reached them, and it took an hour of telephoning to get them open. By the time we finally got home, I was very ill indeed. Before I had time to realise what was happening, I was delirious. I was moved into a German hospital, Where Dora nursed me by day, and the only English professional nurse in Peking nursed me by night. For a fortnight the doctors thought every evening that I should be dead before morning. I remember nothing of this time except a few dreams. When I came out of delirium, I did not know where I was, and did not recognise the nurse. Dora told me that I had been very ill and nearly died, to which I replied: 'How interesting', but I was so weak that I forgot it in five minutes, and she had to tell me again. I could not even remember my own name. But although for about a month after my delirium had ceased they kept telling me I might die at any moment, I never believed a word of it. The nurse whom they had found was rather distinguished in her profession, and had been the Sister in charge of a hospital in Serbia during the War. The whole hospital had been captured by the Germans, and the nurses removed to Bulgaria. She was never tired of telling me how intimate she had become with the Queen of Bulgaria. She was a deeply religious woman, and told me when I began to get better that she had seriously considered whether it was not her duty to let me die. Fortunately, professional training was too strong for her moral sense.
All through the time of my convalescence, in spite of weakness and great physical discomfort, I was exceedingly happy. Dora was very devoted, and her devotion made me forget everything unpleasant. At an early stage of my convalescence Dora discovered that she was pregnant, and this was a source of immense happiness to us both. Ever since the moment when I walked on Richmond Green with Alys, the desire for children had been growing stronger and stronger within me, until at last it had become a consuming passion. When I discovered that I was not Only to survive myself, but to have a child, I became completely indifferent to the circumstances of convalescence, although, during convalescence, I had a whole series of minor diseases. The main trouble had been double pneumonia, but in addition to that I had heart disease, kidney disease, dysentery, and phlebitis. None of these, however, prevented me from feeling perfectly happy, and in spite of all gloomy prognostications, no ill effects whatever remained after my recovery.
Lying in my bed feeling that I was not going to die was surprisingly delightful. I had always imagined until then that I was fundamentally pessimistic and did not greatly value being alive. I discovered that in this I had been completely mistaken, and that life was infinitely sweet to me. Rain in Peking is rare, but during my convalescence there came heavy rains bringing the delicious smell of damp earth through the windows, and I used to think how dreadful it would have been to have never smelt that smell again. I had the same feeling about the light of the sun, and the sound of the wind. Just outside my windows were some very beautiful acacia trees, which came into blossom at the first moment when I was well enough to enjoy them. I have known ever since that at bottom I am glad to be alive. Most people, no doubt, always know this, but I did not.
I was told that the Chinese said that they would bury me by the Western Lake and build a shrine to my memory. I have some slight regret that this did not happen, as I might have become a god, which would have been very chic for an atheist.
There was in Peking at that time a Soviet diplomatic mission, whose members showed great kindness. They had the only good champagne in Peking, and supplied it liberally for my use, champagne being apparently the only proper beverage for pneumonia patients. They used to take first Dora, and later Dora and me, for motor drives in the neighbourhood of Peking. This was a pleasure, but a somewhat exciting one, as they were as bold in driving as they were in revolutions.
I probably owe my life to the Rockefeller Institute in Peking which provided a serum that killed the pneumococci. I owe them the more gratitude on this point, as both before and after I was strongly opposed to them politically, and they regarded me with as much horror as was felt by my nurse.
The Japanese journalists were continually worrying Dora to give them interviews when she wanted to be nursing me. At last she became a little curt with them, so they caused the Japanese newspapers to say that I was dead. This news was forwarded by mail from Japan to America and from America to England. It appeared in the English newspapers on the same day as the news of my divorce. Fortunately, the Court did not believe it, or the divorce might have been postponed. It provided me with the pleasure of reading my obituary notices, which I had always desired without expecting my wishes to be fulfilled. One missionary paper, I remember, had an obituary notice of one sentence: 'Missionaries may be pardoned for heaving a sigh of relief at the news of Mr Bertrand Russell's death.' I fear they must have heaved a sigh of a different sort when they found that I was not dead after all. The report caused some pain to friends in England. We in Peking knew nothing about it until a telegram came from my brother enquiring whether I was still alive. He had been remarking meanwhile that to die in Peking was not the sort of thing I would do.
The most tedious stage of my convalescence was when I had phlebitis, and had to lie motionless on my back for six weeks. We were very anxious to return home for the confinement, and as time went on it began to seem doubtful whether we should be able to do so. In these circumstances it was difficult not to feel impatience, the more so as the doctors said there was nothing to do but wait. However, the trouble cleared up just in time, and on July 10th we were able to leave Peking, though I was still very weak and could only hobble about with the help of a stick.
Shortly after my return from China, the British Government decided to deal with the question of the Boxer indemnity. When the Boxers had been defeated, the subsequent treaty of peace provided that the Chinese Government should pay an annual sum to all those European Powers which had been injured by it. The Americans very wisely decided to forgo any payment on this account. Friends of China in England urged England in vain to do likewise. At last it was decided that, instead of a punitive payment, the Chinese should make some payment which should be profitable to both China and Britain. What form this payment should take was left to be determined by a Committee on which there should be two Chinese members. While MacDonald was Prime Minister he invited Lowes Dickinson and me to be members of the Committee, and consented to our recommendation of V. K. Ting and Hu Shih as the Chinese members. When, shortly afterwards, MacDonald's Government fell, the succeeding Conservative Government informed Lowes Dickinson and myself that our services would not be wanted on the Committee, and they would not accept either V. K. Ting or Hu Shih as Chinese members of it, on the ground that we knew nothing about China. The Chinese Government replied that it desired the two Chinese whom I had recommended and would not have anyone else. This put an end to the very feeble efforts at securing Chinese friendship. The only thing that had been secured during the Labour period of friendship was that Shantung should become a golf course for the British Navy and should no longer be open for Chinese trading.
Before I became ill I had undertaken to do a lecture tour in Japan after leaving China. I had to cut this down to one lecture, and visits to various people. We spent twelve hectic days in Japan, days which were far from pleasant, though very interesting. Unlike the Chinese, the Japanese proved to be destitute of good manners, and incapable of avoiding intrusiveness. Owing to my being still very feeble, we were anxious to avoid all unnecessary fatigues, but the journalists proved a very difficult matter. At the first port at which our boat touched, some thirty journalists were lying in wait, although we had done our best to travel secretly, and they only discovered our movements through the police. As the Japanese papers had refused to contradict the news of my death, Dora gave each of them a type-written slip saying that as I was dead I could not be interviewed. They drew in their breath through their teeth and said: 'Ah! veree funnee!'
We went first to Kobe to visit Robert Young, the editor of the Japan Chronicle. As the boat approached the quay, we saw vast processions with banners marching along, and to the surprise of those who knew Japanese, some of the banners were expressing a welcome to me. It turned out that there was a great strike going on in the dock-yards, and that the police would not tolerate processions except in honour of distinguished foreigners, so that this was their only way of making a demonstration. The strikers were being led by a Christian pacifist called Kagawa, who took me to strike meetings, at one of which I made a speech. Robert Young was a delightful man, who, having left England in the eighties, had not shared in the subsequent deterioration of ideas. He had in his study a large picture of Bradlaugh, for whom he had a devoted admiration. His was, I think, the best newspaper I have ever known, and he had started it with a capital of £10, saved out of his wages as a compositor. He took me to Nara, a place of exquisite beauty, where Old Japan was still to be seen. We then fell into the hands of the enterprising editors of an up-to-date magazine called Kaizo, who conducted us around Kyoto and Tokyo, taking care always to let the journalists know when we were coming, so that we were perpetually pursued by flashlights and photographed even in our sleep. In both places they invited large numbers of professors to visit us. In both places we were treated with the utmost obsequiousness and dogged by police-spies. The room next to ours in the hotel would be occupied by a collection of policemen with a typewriter. The waiters treated us as if we were royalty, and walked backwards out of the room. We would say: 'Damn this waiter', and immediately hear the police typewriter clicking. At the parties of professors which were given in our honour, as soon as I got into at all animated conversation with anyone, a flashlight photograph would be taken, with the result that the conversation was of course interrupted.
The Japanese attitude towards women is somewhat primitive. In Kyoto we both had mosquito nets with holes in them, so that we were kept awake half the night by mosquitoes. I complained of this in the morning. Next evening my mosquito net was mended, but not Dora's. When I complained again the next day, they said: 'But we did not know it mattered about the lady.' Once, when we were in a suburban train with the historian Eileen Power, who was also travelling in Japan, no seats were available, but a Japanese kindly got up and offered his seat to me. I gave it to Dora. Another Japanese then offered me his seat. I gave this to Eileen Power. By this time the Japanese were so disgusted by my unmanly conduct that there was nearly a riot.
We met only one Japanese whom we really liked, a Miss Ito. She was young and beautiful, and lived with a well-known anarchist, by whom she had a son. Dora said to her: 'Are you not afraid that the authorities will do something to you?' She drew her hand across her throat, and said: 'I know they will do that sooner or later.' At the time of the earthquake, the police came to the house where she lived with the anarchist, and found him and her and a little nephew whom they believed to be the son, and informed them that they were wanted at the police station. When they arrived at the police station, the three were put in separate rooms and strangled by the police, who boasted that they had not had much trouble with the child, as they had managed to make friends with him on the way to the police station. The police in question became national heroes, and school children were set to write essays in their praise.
We made a ten hours' journey in great heat from Kyoto to Yokohama. We arrived there just after dark, and were received by a series of magnesium explosions, each of which made Dora jump, and increased my fear of a miscarriage. I became blind with rage, the only time I have been so since I tried to strangle Fitzgerald.1 I pursued the boys with the flashlights, but being lame, was unable to catch them, which was fortunate, as I should certainly have committed murder. An enterprising photographer succeeded in photographing me with my eyes blazing. I should not have known that I could have looked so completely insane. This photograph was my introduction to Tokyo. I felt at that moment the same type of passion as must have been felt by Anglo-Indians during the Mutiny, or by white men surrounded by a rebel coloured population. I realised then that the desire to protect one's family from injury at the hands of an alien race is probably the wildest and most passionate feeling of which man is capable. My last experience of Japan was the publication in a patriotic journal of what purported to be my farewell message to the Japanese nation, urging them to be more Chauvinistic. I had not sent either this or any other farewell message to that or any other newspaper.
1 Cf. p. 39.
We sailed from Yokohama by the Canadian Pacific, and were seen off by the anarchist, Ozuki, and Miss Ito. On the Empress of Asia we experienced a sudden change in the social atmosphere. Dora's condition was not yet visible to ordinary eyes, but we saw the ship's doctor cast a professional eye upon her, and we learned that he had communicated his observations to the passengers. Consequently, almost nobody would speak to us, though everybody was anxious to photograph us. The only people willing to speak to us were Mischa Elman, the violinist, and his party. As everybody else on the ship wished to speak to him, they were considerably annoyed by the fact that he was always in our company. After an uneventful journey, we arrived in Liverpool at the end of August. It was raining hard, and everybody complained of the drought, so we felt we had reached home. Dora's mother was on the dock, partly to welcome us, but partly to give Dora wise advise, which she was almost too shy to do. On September 27th we were married, having succeeded in hurrying up the King's Proctor, though this required that I should swear by Almighty God on Charing Cross platform that Dora was the woman with whom I had committed the official adultery. On November 16th, my son John was born, and from that moment my children were for many years my main interest in life.
Letters
From Johnson Yuan
6 Yu Yang Li Avenue Joffre Shanghai, China 6th Oct. [? Nov.] 1920
Dear Sir
We are very glad to have the greatest social philosopher of world to arrive here in China, so as to salve the Chronic deseases of the thought of Chinese Students. Since 1919, the student's circle seems to be the greatest hope of the future of China; as they are ready to welcome to have revolutionary era in the society of China. In that year, Dr John Dewey had influenced the intellectual class with great success.
But I dare to represent most of the Chinese Students to say a few words to you:
Although Dr Dewey is successful here, but most of our students are not satisfied with his conservative theory. Because most of us want to acquire the knowledge of Anarchism, Syndicalism, Socialism, etc.; in a word, we are anxious to get the knowledge of the social revolutionary philosophy. We are the followers of Mr Kropotkin, and our aim is to have anarchical society in China. We hope you, Sir, to give us fundamentally the thorough Social philosophy, base on Anarchism. Moreover, we want you to recorrect the theory of Dr Dewey, the American Philosopher. We hope you have the absolute freedom in China, not the same as in England. So we hope you to have a greater success than Dr Dewey here.
I myself am old member of the Peking Govt. University, and met you in Shanghai many times, the first time is in 'The Great Oriental Hotel', the first time of your reception here, in the evening.
The motto, you often used, of Lao-Tzu ought to be changed in the first word, as 'Creation without Possession ...' is better than the former translative; and it is more correctly according to what you have said 'the creative impulsive and the possessive impulse'. Do you think it is right?
Your Fraternally Comrade Johnson Yuan (Secretary of the Chinese Anarchist-Communist Association)
From The General Educational Association of Hunan
Changsha October 11th, 1920
Dear Sir
We beg to inform you that the educational system of our province is just at infancy and is unfortunately further weakened by the fearful disturbances of the civil war of late years, so that the guidance and assistances must be sought to sagacious scholars.
The extent to which your moral and intellectual power has reached is so high that all the people of this country are paying the greatest regard to you. We, Hunanese, eagerly desire to hear your powerful instructions as a compass.
A few days ago, through Mr Lee-Shuh-Tseng, our representative at Shanghai, we requested you to visit Hunan and are very grateful to have your kind acceptance. A general meeting will therefore be summoned on the 25th instant in order to receive your instructive advices. Now we appoint Mr Kun-Chao-Shuh to represent us all to welcome you sincerely. Please come as soon as possible.
We are, Sir Your obedient servants The General Educational Association of Hunan (Seal)
I wrote the following account on the Yiangtse: To Ottoline Morrel1
1 Published in The Nation, January 8th, 1921.
28th October, 1920
Since landing in China we have had a most curious and interesting time, spent, so far, entirely among Chinese students and journalists, who are more or less Europeanised. I have delivered innumerable lectures - on Einstein, education and social questions. The eagerness for knowledge on the part of students is quite extraordinary. When one begins to speak, their eyes have the look of starving men beginning a feast. Everywhere they treat me with a most embarrassing respect. The day after I landed in Shanghai they gave a vast dinner to us, at which they welcomed me as Confucius the Second. All the Chinese newspapers that day in Shanghai had my photograph. Both Miss Black and I had to speak to innumerable schools, teachers' conferences, congresses, etc. It is a country of curious contrasts. Most of Shanghai is quite European, almost American; the names of streets, and notices and advertisements are in English (as well as Chinese). The buildings are magnificent offices and banks; everything looks very opulent. But the side streets are still quite Chinese. It is a vast city about the size of Glasgow. The Europeans almost all look villainous and ill. One of the leading Chinese newspapers invited us to lunch, in a modern building, completed in 1917, with all the latest plant (except linotype, which can't be used for Chinese characters). The editorial staff gave us a Chinese meal at the top of the house with Chinese wine made of rice, and innumerable dishes which we ate with chopsticks. When we had finished eating they remarked that one of their number was fond of old Chinese music, and would like to play to us. So he produced an instrument with seven strings, made by himself on the ancient model, out of black wood two thousand years old, which he had taken from a temple. The instrument is played with the finger, like a guitar, but is laid fiat on a table, not held in the hand. They assured us that the music he played was four thousand years old, but that I imagine must be an overstatement. In any case, it was exquisitely beautiful, very delicate, easier for a European ear than more recent music (of which I have heard a good deal). When the music was over they became again a staff of bustling journalists.
From Shanghai our Chinese friends took us tor three nights to Hangchow on the Western Lake, said to be the most beautiful scenery in China. This was merely holiday. The Western Lake is not large - about the size of Grasmere - it is surrounded by wooded hills, on which there are innumerable pagodas and temples. It has been beautified by poets and emperors for thousands of years. (Apparently poets in ancient China were as rich as financiers in modern Europe.) We spent one day in the hills - a twelve hour expedition in Sedan chairs - and the next in seeing country houses, monasteries, etc. on islands in the lake.
Chinese religion is curiously cheerful. When one arrives at a temple, they give one a cigarette and a cup of delicately fragrant tea. Then they show one round. Buddhism, which one thinks of as ascetic, is here quite gay. The saints have fat stomachs, and are depicted as people who thoroughly enjoy life. No one seems to believe the religion, not even the priests. Nevertheless, one sees many rich new temples.
The country houses are equally hospitable - one is shewn round and given tea. They are just like Chinese pictures, with many arbours where one can sit, with everything made for beauty and nothing for comfort - except in the grandest rooms, where there will be a little hideous European furniture.
The most delicious place we saw on the Western Lake was a retreat for scholars, built about eight hundred years ago on the lake. Scholars certainly had a pleasant life in the old China.
Apart from the influence of Europeans, China makes me impression of what Europe would have become if the eighteenth century had gone on till now without industrialism or the French Revolution. People seem to be rational hedonists, knowing very well how to obtain happiness, exquisite through intense cultivation of their artistic sensibilities, differing from Europeans through the fact that they prefer enjoyment to power. People laugh a great deal in all classes, even the lowest.
The Chinese cannot pronounce my name, or write it in their characters. They call me 'Luo-Su' which is the nearest they can manage. This, they can both pronounce and print.
From Hangchow we went back to Shanghai, thence by rail to Nanking, an almost deserted city. The wall is twenty-three miles in circumference, but most of what it encloses is country. The city was destroyed at the end of the Taiping rebellion, and again injured in the Revolution of 1911, but it is an active educational centre, eager for news of Einstein and Bolshevism.
From Nanking we went up the Yiangtse to Hangkow, about three days' journey, through very lovely scenery - thence by train to Cheng-Sha, the capital of Hu-Nan, where a great educational conference was taking place. There are about three hundred Europeans in Cheng-Sha, but Europeanisation has not gone at all far. The town is just like a mediaeval town - narrow streets, every house a shop with a gay sign hung out, no traffic possible except Sedan chairs and a few rickshaws. The Europeans have a few factories, a few banks, a few missions and a hospital - the whole gamut of damaging and repairing body and soul by western methods. The Governor of Hu-Nan is the most virtuous of all the Governors of Chinese provinces, and entertained us last night at a magnificent banquet. Professor and Mrs Dewey were present; it was the first time I had met them. The Governor cannot talk any European language, so, though I sat next to him, I could only exchange compliments through an interpreter. But I got a good impression of him; he is certainly very anxious to promote education, which seems the most crying need of China. Without it, it is hard to see how better government can be introduced. It must be said that bad government seems somewhat less disastrous in China than it would be in a European nation, but this is perhaps a superficial impression which time may correct.
We are now on our way to Pekin, which we hope to reach on October 31st.
Bertrand Russell
From S. Yamamoto
Tokyo, Japan December 25, 1920
Dear Sir
We heartily thank you for your esteemed favour of the latest date and also for the manuscript on 'The Prospects of Bolshevik Russia', which has just arrived.
when a translation of your article on 'Patriotism' appeared in our New Year issue of the Kaizo now already on sale, the blood of the young Japanese was boiled with enthusiasm to read it. All the conversations everywhere among gentlemen classes, students and laborers centered upon your article, so great was the attraction of your thoughts to them.
The only regret was that the government has requested us to omit references you made to Japan in your article as much as possible, and we were obliged to cut out some of your valuable sentences. We trust that you will generously sympathise with us in the position in which we are placed and that you will excuse us for complying with the government's request.
Hereafter, however, we shall publish your articles in the original as well as in a translation according the dictate of our principle.
The admiration for you of the millions of our young men here is something extraordinary.
Your principle is identical with that of ourselves, so that as long as we live we wish to be with you. But that our country is still caught in the obstinate conventional mesh of 3,000 years standing, so that reforms cannot be carried out, is a cause of great regret. We have to advance step by step. Your publications have served as one of the most important factors to move our promising young men of Japan in their steadfast advancement.
In the past thirty odd years, physical and medical sciences have especially advanced in Japan. But it is a question how much progress we have made in the way of original inventions. Yet we are confident that in pure science we are by no means behind America in advancement. Only the majority of our country men are still enslaved by the ideas of class distinctions and other backward thoughts, of which we are greatly ashamed. The Japanese military clique and the gentlemen clique have been anxious to lead Japan in the path of aggression, thereby only inviting the antipathy of the nation. The present Japanese world of thought has been subject to an undercurrent of struggle. We will be very much grieved if our country were regarded as an aggressive nation because of that.
One half of our government officials and almost eighty per cent of the army men have been caught in dreams of aggression, it is true. But recently there has been much awakening from that.
We have confidence in our young men who have begun to awaken, so that they may advance in the path of civilisation not to disappoint the world. We trust that you will write your articles with the object in view to encourage our young men in their efforts for advancement.
Please give our regards to Miss Black.
Yours respectfully S. Yamamoto
[Humbug is international]
To Ottoline Morrell
[1921]
The other day Dora and I went to a Chinese feast given by the Chinese Students here. They made speeches full of delicate wit, in the style of 18th century France, with a mastery of English that quite amazed me. The Chinese Chargé d'Affaires said he had been asked to speak on Chinese Politics - he said the urgent questions were the General Election, economy and limitation of armaments - he spoke quite a long time, saying only things that might have been said in a political speech about England, and which yet were quite all right for China - when he sat down he had not committed himself to anything at all, but had suggested (without ever saying) that China's problems were worse than ours. The Chinese constantly remind me of Oscar Wilde in his first trial when he thought wit would pull one through anything, and found himself in the grip of a great machine that cared nothing for human values. I read of a Chinese General the other day, whose troops had ventured to resist a Japanese attack, so the Japanese insisted that he should apologise to their Consul. He replied that he had no uniform grand enough for such an august occasion, and therefore to his profound sorrow he must forego the pleasure of visiting a man for whom he had so high an esteem. When they nevertheless insisted, he called the same day on all the other Consuls, so that it appeared as if he were paying a mere visit of ceremony. Then all Japan raised a howl that he had insulted the Japanese nation.
I would do anything in the world to help the Chinese, but it is difficult. They are like a nation of artists, with all their good and bad points. Imagine Gertler and [Augustus] John and Lytton set to govern the British Empire, and you will have some idea how China has been governed for 2,000 years. Lytton is very like an old fashioned Chinaman, not at all like the modern westernised type.
I must stop. All my love.
Your B.
From my brother Frank
Telegraph House Chichester 27 January 1921
Dear Bertie
The Bank to which I have rashly given a Guarantee is threatening to sell me up, so that by the time you return I shall probably be a pauper walking the streets. It is not an alluring prospect for my old age but I dare say it will afford great joy to Elizabeth.
I have not seen the elusive little Wrinch again although she seems to spend as much time in London as at Girton. I did not know a don had so much freedom of movement in term time.
Did you know that our disagreeable Aunt Gertrude was running the Punch Bowl Inn at Hindhead? I feel tempted to go and stay there for a week end but perhaps she would not take me in. The Aunt Agatha was very bitter about it when I last saw her and said the horrible woman was running all over Hindhead poisoning people's minds against her by saying the most shocking things - we can guess what about. I think when one reflects on the P.L. [Pembroke Lodge] atmosphere it is amusing to think of the Aunt Agatha becoming an object of scandal in her old age.1 Naturally she feels that something must be seriously wrong with the world for such a thing to be possible. She was quite amusingly and refreshingly bitter about Gertrude and next time I see her I will draw her out a bit.
1 She was suspiciously friendly with her chauffeur. The Duke of Bedford gave her a car, which she was too nervous ever to use, but she kept the chauffeur.
I am afraid I have no more news to tell you: my mind is entirely occupied with thoughts of what it is like to be a bankrupt - and how - and where - to live on nothing a year. The problem is a novel one and I dislike all its solutions.
Yours affectionately Russell
From Robert Young
The Japan Chronicle P.O. Box No. 91 Sannomiya Kobe, Japan January 18, 1921
Dear Mr Russell
Your books have always been so helpful to me that when I heard you were coming out here I ventured to send you a copy of the Chronicle in the hope that you might find something of interest in it from time to time. Please do not trouble about the subscription; I am very glad if the paper has been of service.
When I was in England a year ago I hoped to have the opportunity of a talk with you, and Francis Hirst tried to arrange it but found you were away from London at the time. Do you intend to visit Japan before you return to England? If so I shall hope to have a chance of meeting you, and if I can do anything here in connection with such a visit please let me know.
I shall be glad to read your new book on Bolshevism. Since you wrote you will perhaps have noticed a review of Bolshevism in Theory and Practice. It may perhaps be interesting to you to know that I can remember your father's will being upset in the Courts, and that as a result I have followed your career with interest.
Sincerely Yours Robert Young
The Japan Chronicle P.O. Box No. 91 Sannomiya Kobe, Japan Kobe, January 2, 1922
Dear Mr Russell
It is a long time since August, when you wrote to me from the Empress of Asia, and I ought to have acknowledged your letter earlier, but with my small staff I am always kept very busy, and my correspondence tends to accumulate.
I have just heard from Mrs Russell of the birth of an heir, and I congratulate you in no formal sense, for it has given us great pleasure and much relief to learn that Mrs Russell did not suffer from her experiences in Japan. I published the letter you sent me, and I think some good has been done by the protest. So few people have courage to protest against an evil of this character, lest worse things may befall them in the way of criticism.
What a farce the Washington Conference is. From the first I doubted the sincerity of this enthusiasm for peace on the part of those who made the war. Perhaps it is the head rather than the heart that is at fault. The statesmen do not seem to realise that so long as the old policies are pursued, we shall have the same results, and that a limitation of armaments to the point they have reached during the war puts us in a worse position regarding the burden carried and the danger of explosion than in 1914. Japan has sulkily accepted the ratio proposed by America, but is supporting the French demand for more submarines. France is showing herself a greater danger to Europe than Germany ever was. China has been betrayed at the Washington Conference, as we expected. The Anglo-Japanese Alliance has been scrapped, to be replaced by a Four-Power agreement which is still more dangerous to China. Her salvation, unhappily, lies in the jealousies of the Powers. United, the pressure on her will be increased. But I doubt whether the Senate will endorse the treaty, once its full implications are understood.
You are very busy, I note, and I hope that you will be able to make people think. But it is a wicked and perverse generation, I am afraid. Sometimes I despair. It looks as if all the ideals with which I started life had been overthrown. But I suppose when one is well into the sixties, the resilience of youth has disappeared.
By the way, I have suggested to the Conway Memorial Committee that you be asked to deliver the annual lecture. If you are asked, I hope you will see your way to consent. Moncure Conway was a fine character, always prepared to champion the oppressed and defend free speech. He stood by Bradlaugh and Mrs Besant when they were prosecuted for the publication of the Fruits of Philosophy, as he stood by Foote when prosecuted on account of the Freethinker, though personally objecting to that style of propaganda.
I have given Mrs Russell some Japan news in a letter I have just written to her, so I will not repeat here. I hope you are receiving the Japan Weekly Chronicle regularly, so that you can keep in touch with news in this part of the world. It has been sent to you care of George Allen & Unwin. Now I have your Chelsea address I will have it sent there. For some years our Weekly has been steadily increasing in circulation, going all over the world. But from the ist of this year the Japanese Post Office has doubled the foreign postage rates, which makes 6 yen for postage alone per annum on a copy of the Weekly, and I am afraid our circulation will suffer accordingly.
It is very good to hear that you are completely restored to health. Mrs Russell says you would scarcely be recognised by those who only saw you in Japan. Your visit was a great pleasure to me. For years I had admired your writings and been encouraged by the stand you had taken in public affairs when even the stoutest seemed to waver. It therefore meant much to me to make your acquaintance and I hope your friendship.
With our united good wishes,
Sincerely yours Robert Young
From C. P. Sanger
5 New Square Lincolns Inn, W.C.2 2 June 1921
My dear Bertie
How kind of you to write; and to say such kind things. Until there was a false rumour of your death I never really knew how very fond I am of you. I didn't believe the rumour, but the mere idea that I might never see you again had never come into my mind; and it was an intense relief when the Chinese Embassy ascertained that the rumour was false. You will take care of your health now, won't you?
The Political situation is, as always, damnable - millions of unemployed - soldiers camping in the parks - but an excellent day yesterday for the Derby which is all that anyone apparently cares about.
Einstein lectures at King's College in 10 days time, but I can't get a ticket. I've been reading some of Einstein's actual papers and they give me a most tremendous impression of the clearness of his thoughts.
We spent a delightful Whitsuntide at the Shiffolds: Tovey1 was there and talked endlessly and played Beethoven Sonatas and Bach, so I was very happy.
1 The music critic.
I enclose a letter for Miss Black - I'm afraid its a little inadequate but it's so difficult to write to a person one has never seen. I hope this experience with her and her devoted nursing of you will form an eternal basis for you both.
Dora sends her love.
Yours fraternally and affectionately C. P. Sanger
From Joseph Conrad
Oswalds Bishopsbourne, Kent 2. Nov. 1921
My Dear Russell
We were glad to hear that your wife feels none the worse for the exertions and agitations of the move.2 Please give her our love and assure her that she is frequently in our thoughts.
2 The move from one abode to another in London after we returned from China.
As to yourself I have been dwelling with you mentally for several days between the covers of your book3 - an habitation of great charm and most fascinatingly furnished; not to speak of the wonderful quality of light that reigns in there. Also all the windows (I am trying to write in images) are, one feels, standing wide open. Nothing less stuffy - of the Mansions of the mind - could be conceived! I am sorry for the philosophers (p. 212 - end) who (like the rest of us) cannot have their cake and eat it. There's no exactitude in the vision or in the words. I have a notion that we are condemned in all things to the à-peu-près, which no scientific passion for weighing and measuring will ever do away with.
3 The Analysts of Mind.
It is very possible that I haven't understood your pages - but the good try I have had was a delightful experience. I suppose you are enough of a philosopher not to have expected more from a common mortal.
I don't believe that Charles I was executed (pp. 245-246 et seq.) but there is not enough paper left here to explain why. Next time perhaps. For I certainly intend to meet you amongst your Chinoiseries at the very earliest fitting time.
Always affectly yours J. Conrad
Oswalds Bishopsbourne, Kent 18th Nov. 1921
My Dear Russell
Jessie must have sent yesterday our congratulations and words of welcome to the 'comparative stranger' who has come to stay with you (and take charge of the household as you will soon discover). Yes! Paternity is a great experience of which die least that can be said is that it is eminently worth having - if only for the deepened sense of fellowship with all men it gives one. It is the only experience perhaps whose universality does not make it common but invests it with a sort of grandeur on that very account. My affection goes out to you both, to him who is without speech and thought as yet and to you who have spoken to men profoundly with effect and authority about the nature of the mind. For your relation to each other will have its poignant moments arising out of the very love and loyalty binding you to each other.
Of all the incredible things that come to pass this - that there should be one day a Russell bearing mine for one of his names is surely the most marvellous. Not even my horoscope could have disclosed that for I verily believe that all the sensible stars would have refused to combine in that extravagant manner over my cradle. However it has come to pass (to the surprise of the Universe) and all I can say is that I am profoundly touched - more than I can express - that I should have been present to your mind in that way and at such a time.
Please kiss your wife's hand for me and tell her that in the obscure bewildered masculine way (which is not quite unintelligent however) I take part in her gladness. Since your delightful visit here she was much in our thoughts - and I will confess we felt very optimistic. She has justified it fully and it is a great joy to think of her with two men in the house. She will have her hands full presently. I can only hope that John Conrad has been born with a disposition towards indulgence which he will consistently exercise towards his parents. I don't think that I can wish you anything better and so with my dear love to all three of you, I am
always yours Joseph Conrad
P.S. I am dreadfully offended at your associating me with some undesirable acquaintance of yours1 who obviously should not have been allowed inside the B. Museum reading-room. I wish you to understand that my attitude towards [the] King Charles question is not phantastic but philosophical and I shall try to make it clear to you later when you will be more in a state to follow my reasoning closely. Knowing from my own experience I imagine that it's no use talking to you seriously just now.
1 Who did not agree that Julius Caesar is dead, and when I asked why, replied: 'Because I am Julius Caesar.'
From Eileen Power
184 Ebury Street S.W.1 Saturday, [December, 1921]
Dear Bertie
The book is The Invention of a New Religion by Professor Chamberlain. If you want to consult it, here it is and perhaps you would let me have it back anon.
I am so glad that you and Dora can come to luncheon to meet Dr Wise on Wednesday and tell Dora that 1.30 will do beautifully. I am also asking B. K. Martin, a very intelligent young man who is now teaching history at Magdalene, having got his BA last year. He wrote to me three days ago and said 'if you would introduce me to Bertrand Russell I should be forever in your debt. I'd rather meet him than any other living (or dead) creature.' I felt that in view of this preeminence over the shades of Plato, Julius Caesar, Cleopatra, Descartes, Ninon de l'Enclos and Napoleon the Great, you would consent to shine upon him! Also he is extremely clever and a nice boy.
Yours ever Eileen Power
I was asked to dine with the Webbs the other day, but I don't think I ever shall be again for we nearly came to blows over the relative merits of China and Japan!
From Claud Russell
Sept. 22. 1923 British Legation Adis Ababa
Dear Bertie
I have just read with great pleasure your Problem of China, where I spent some years. It is a fact that the Treaty of Versailles (article 131) provided for the restoration of the astronomical instruments to China, but I am under the impression that the obligation has not been carried out. If so, I fear you cannot count it among the 'important benefits' secured to the world by that treaty. Perhaps you might suggest to your Mends in China the occupation of Swabia or Oldenburg to secure its enforcement. I must say, however, in fairness to the Treaty of Versailles, that you do it less than justice. You have overlooked article 246, under which 'Germany will hand over to H.B.M.'s Government the skull of the Sultan Mkwawa..."
I think, if I may say so, that on page 24 (top) 'animal' should be 'annual'. I feel sure the Temple of Heaven was never the scene of die sort of sacrifice that pleased the God of Abel.
Your affec cousin Claud Russell
From J. Ramsay MacDonald
Foreign Office S.W.I 31st May, 1924
My dear Russell
For some time past, His Majesty's Government have been considering the best means of allocating and administering the British share of the China Boxer Indemnity, which, it has been decided, should be devoted to purposes mutually beneficial to British and Chinese interests.
In order to obtain the best results from the policy thus indicated, it has been decided to appoint a committee to advise His Majesty's Government; and I am approaching you in the hope that you may be able to serve on this Committee, feeling confident that your experience would be of the greatest assistance in this matter, which will so deeply and permanently affect our relations with China.
The terms of reference will probably be as follows:
'In view of the decision of His Majesty's Government to devote future payments of the British share of the Boxer Indemnity to purposes mutually beneficial to British and Chinese interests.
'To investigate the different objects to which these payments should be allocated, and the best means of securing the satisfactory administration of the funds, to hear witnesses and to make such recommendations as may seem desirable.'
For the sake of efficiency, the Committee will be kept as small as possible, especially at the outset of its proceedings. But it will of course be possible to appoint 'ad hoc' additional members for special subjects, if such a course should recommend itself later on. The following are now being approached, as representing the essential elements which should go to the composition of the Committee:
Chairman: Lord Phillimore.
Foreign Office: Sir John Jordan and Mr S. P. Waterlow.
Department of Overseas Trade: Sir William Clark,
House of Commons: Mr H. A. L. Fisher, MP.
Finance: Sir Charles Addis.
Education: Mr Lowes Dickinson and The Honourable Bertrand Russell.
Women: Dame Adelaide Anderson.
China: A suitable Chinese.
It will be understood that the above list is of a tentative character and should be regarded as confidential.
I enclose a brief memorandum which shows the present position with regard to the Indemnity, and to the legislation which has now been introduced into the House. I trust that you will be able to see your way to undertake this work, to which I attach the highest importance.
Yours very sincerely J. Ramsay MacDonald
Note on a scrap of paper:
'It is desired that the Committee should consist wholly of men with an extensive knowledge of China and its affairs.'
Memorandum on the Boxer Indemnity
Bertrand Russell
The Boxer Indemnity Bill, now in Committee, provides that what remains unpaid of the Boxer Indemnity shall be spent on purposes to the mutual advantage of Great Britain & China. It does not state that these purposes are to be educational. In the opinion of all who know China (except solely as a field for capitalist exploitation), it is of the utmost importance that an Amendment should be adopted specifying Chinese education as the sole purpose to which the money should be devoted. The following are the chief grounds in favour of such an Amendment:
(1) That this would be the expenditure most useful to China.
(2) That no other course would produce a good effect on influential Chinese opinion.
(3) That the interests of Great Britain, which are to be considered, can only be secured by winning the good will of the Chinese.
(4) That any other course would contrast altogether too unfavourably with the action of America, which long ago devoted all that remained of the American share of the Boxer indemnity to Chinese education.
(5) That the arguments alleged in favour of other courses all have a corrupt motive, i.e. are designed for the purpose of securing private profit through Government action.
For these reasons, it is profoundly desirable that Labour Members of Parliament should take action to secure the necessary Amendment before it is too late.
The China Indemnity Bill, in its present form, provides that the remainder of the Boxer Indemnity shall be applied to 'purposes, educational or other', which are mutually beneficial to Great Britain and China.
Sir Walter de Frece proposed in Committee that the words connected with education' should be substituted for 'educational or other'.
It is much to be hoped that the House of Commons will carry this Amendment on the Report stage. Certain interests are opposed to the Amendment for reasons with which Labour can have no sympathy. The Government thinks it necessary to placate these interests, but maintains that the Committee to be appointed will be free to decide in favour of education only. The Committee, however, is appointed by Parliament, and one third of its members are to retire every two years; there is therefore no guarantee against its domination by private interests in the future.
The Bill in its present form opens the door to corruption, is not calculated to please Chinese public opinion, displays Great Britain as less enlightened than America and Japan, and therefore fails altogether to achieve its nominal objects. The Labour Party ought to make at least an attempt to prevent the possibility of the misapplication of public money to purposes of private enrichment. This will be secured by the insertion of the words 'connected with education' in Clause 1, after the word 'purposes'.
Bertrand Russell
From Y. R. Chao
Berlin August 22 '24
Dear Russell
Here is an abbreviated translation of C. L. Lo's letter to me (Lo & S. N. Fu being S. Hu [Hu Shih]'s chief disciples, both in Berlin).
'Heard from China that Wu pei fu advised Ch. Governm. to use funds for railways. Morning Post said (4 weeks ago) that Brit. Gov't cabled Ch. Gov't to send a delegate. If so, it would be terrible. Already wrote to London Ch. stud. Club to inquire Chu. If report true, try to cancel action by asking Tsai to mount horse with his prestige. In any case, Brit. Gov't still has full power. We have written trying to influence Chu, but on the other hand you please write to Lo Su [Russell] to influence Brit. For. Office, asking him to recommend Tsai if nothing else is possible. There is already a panic in Peking educ'l world. There was a cable to Brit. Gov't, and another to Tsai asking him to go to London ...'
Another letter, from Chu, came to me last mght:
'I did give my consent (?) to the nomination (?) of Mr Ting. I quite agree (?) with you Ting is the most desirable man for the post, but recently I learnt that Peking (For. Office?) is in favor of (?) Dr C. H. Wang, who is not in Europe. I doubt whether the latter would accept the appt'm't... I will talk over this question with Mr Russell when he returns to town.'
I know Wang (brother of C. T. Wang of Kuo Ming Tang (National People Party) fame), C. H. Wang is a fine gentle fellow, recently worked in business and a Christian. One should emphasise the personal attractiveness and goodness but do the opposite to his suitability to this in-its-nature roughneck tussle of a job.
My noodles are getting cold and my Kleines helles bier is getting warm 200 meters away where my wife is waiting.
Excuse me 1000 times for not reading this letter over again.
Yrs ever Y. R. Chao