The Last Days of Sun Yat-sen
More and more of China…
Sun Yat-sen paused for a moment in thought. Not long ago, the British had actually offered to sell him weapons. Come to think of it, it wasn’t entirely impossible.
“So we should accept it?”
“We attached the condition that Duan Qirui of the Beiyang Government must completely step down. It’s acceptable. It’s not a total collapse—he’s returning to the Anhui clique as its commander and has promised never to seek the presidency again.”
“That may be true, but…”
Still, it left a bitter aftertaste. They had only just begun to gain momentum.
“We don’t know how long Russian support will last either. At least this war has allowed us to drag Duan Qirui out. Isn’t that good enough?”
In truth, Russia had provided aid without compensation until now. An imperialist nation offering free support? It clearly wouldn’t last. The Russian United States would surely begin demanding something in return as time passed. The very fact that they had offered mediation suggested that if it was rejected, they might consider military intervention.
If things continued this way, they could somehow force Duan Qirui out. But to leave it in foreign hands…
Most likely, Russia and Japan were mediating because they didn’t want other great powers getting involved. Yet if they refused now, Russia and Japan would intervene militarily. In that case, instead of dragging Duan Qirui out at gunpoint, Russia and Japan might simply stamp their seals on a document that split China in two.
Moreover, Sun Yat-sen knew he wouldn’t live much longer. In that case, it was better to settle things here and prepare for what came next. His health had been poor lately; he had no choice but to make arrangements for the future.
“Ugh… Haa. There’s no helping it. We’ll have to accept.”
After a small show of resistance, Sun Yat-sen finally gave in.
“As expected, it went exactly as Charina predicted.”
“What do you mean?”
Mao Zedong, who had essentially become Chen Jiongming’s right-hand man, asked with a puzzled expression as they left Sun Yat-sen’s office. He was referring to the words Chen Jiongming had muttered.
“If Sun Yat-sen had been his usual self, would he have accepted this? The man who constantly grinds his teeth at Japan? The one who only wanted support from Russia and nothing more? That man, who never looks at reality and is ruled by ideals and emotion? He never would have accepted it.”
There was clearly something wrong with Sun Yat-sen’s body now. Even during this meeting, his wife Song Qingling had to support him. The day Charina had spoken of was approaching.
Once Duan Qirui stepped down and Sun Yat-sen died, the true era of Federal Provincial Autonomy would begin.
“Now that you mention it, his condition did seem different from before.”
Indeed. Even Chen Jiongming had secretly hoped it wasn’t true. But to think he was already in such a state.
Originally, they had prepared for the worst case scenario if the mediation proposal was rejected. Assassinating Sun Yat-sen, or forcing him into a position where he had no choice but to accept. Of course, the Russians had also made it clear they were prepared to intervene fully if Sun Yat-sen refused, which left him no real option.
“His time is almost up. The Communist Party is ready, I assume?”
“Yes. The Communist Party stands prepared.”
“Then we should begin preparing in earnest.”
In anticipation of that day, Chen Jiongming and Mao Zedong had been making quiet preparations behind the scenes. Once Duan Qirui of the Beiyang Government stepped down, that would be the real beginning. Sun Yat-sen wouldn’t last much longer either. Then Chen Jiongming would take the lead and establish Federal Provincial Autonomy.
And so it was. With direct intervention from Russia and Japan, the conflict between the Constitutional Protection Government and Duan Qirui came to an end. Unlike in the original history, Duan Qirui had managed to seize real power—but only up to that point. Even he recognized his own limits. He agreed to relinquish his position as head of the Beiyang Government and return to his role as commander of the Anhui clique, effectively reverting to the status of a warlord.
And then.
Just as a new government was about to be formed, Sun Yat-sen reached his end far sooner than in the original timeline.
“Haa… Haaahk!”
“Darling! Darling!”
Perhaps it was the strain of the Constitutional Protection War. Or maybe the heavy burden he had carried while trying to hold the warlord alliance together. Whatever the cause, Sun Yat-sen’s health deteriorated much faster than in the original history.
As he lay dying, fragments of his life flashed before his eyes. The Russian Tsar who had intervened in China. The Russian United States. Chen Jiongming, the advocate of Federal Provincial Autonomy. China that had ended in an ambiguous state—nominally one nation, yet still divided among warlords. His mind spun rapidly.
Wait… could it be?
He couldn’t grasp the exact truth. But in his final moments, he realized that everything must be connected to Russia’s Charina. That Chen Jiongming had been deceived by her and would tear China apart.
Of course, whether the Charina all the way in distant Moscow truly intended such a thing was uncertain. But one thing seemed clear: after his death, China would never be unified.
He had to do something. Anything. At the very least, he had to tell Chiang Kai-shek.
Sun Yat-sen desperately tried to convey his final wishes to his wife Song Qingling, squeezing out his last strength.
“Darling… Darling. Please say it again. What are you trying to tell me?”
But speaking had already become too difficult. With his wife’s tear-streaked face as his final sight, Sun Yat-sen passed from this world.
The news of Sun Yat-sen’s death brought sorrow to many within the Constitutional Protection Government. But Chen Jiongming, who saw it as an opportunity, summoned Mao Zedong. The day had finally arrived.
“Well then, let’s begin.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Chen Jiongming and Mao Zedong had been waiting for this moment. To establish Federal Provincial Autonomy, they needed to tarnish Sun Yat-sen’s reputation as much as possible.
In other words, while everyone was still mourning his death, they would pour cold water over the entire affair and turn public opinion against him.
Following Chen Jiongming’s orders, Mao Zedong and the Chinese Communist Party began spreading claims in the shadows that Sun Yat-sen had been the most enthusiastic supporter of the mediation proposal, actively inviting foreign intervention.
The continent burned with heated debate over the duplicity of Sun Yat-sen’s final actions. Of course, it wasn’t entirely untrue. In his final days, his judgment had been clouded.
While there were still many across the Central Plains who revered him, it was enough to shake the warlords. Their alliance had only formed out of necessity because of Sun Yat-sen; their relationships had always been fragile as thin ice. Anyone could rise up at any moment to seize hegemony over the Republic of China.
And then, at just the right moment, Chen Jiongming, commander of the Guangdong clique, summoned the warlords.
Though they were reluctant to answer Chen Jiongming’s call, he was the man who had given Sun Yat-sen honest advice until the very end. They could not simply ignore him. Above all, his army had been trained directly by the Russian White Army advisory group—true elites. Refusing the summons would be tantamount to declaring war. So they attended, if only to see what he had to say.
The gathering included high-ranking figures from the Constitutional Protection Government: Wang Jingwei, Chiang Kai-shek, Tang Shaoyi, Tang Jiyao, Xu Shuzheng, Qu Tongfeng, Cao Kun, Wu Peifu, Feng Yuxiang, and many other warlords who had once fought on opposing sides. Among them, Chiang Kai-shek, who considered himself Sun Yat-sen’s rightful successor, looked deeply displeased. Still, he intended to endure until Chen Jiongming finished speaking nonsense.
With a face full of dissatisfaction, he spoke first.
“Well then, Guangdong Commander. What do you intend to do now?”
“What do you mean?”
“The provisional president is dead. Are you not going to seize control of China with Russia’s backing?”
Yes. That would certainly be one way. For a brief moment, even Chen Jiongming felt the temptation. But it was a terrible idea. They had not completely suppressed the civil war. The Anhui clique under Duan Qirui, now reduced to a mere warlord faction, still remained intact. If he declared here that he would take the Beiyang Government’s authority, if he reached for the presidency—the imperial throne of this era—the warlords would storm out in outrage. They would form an anti-Chen Jiongming alliance, and he would end up in the same position as Duan Qirui. If he accepted excessive Russian intervention, he would be branded a traitor.
He would not do that. In the first place, Chen Jiongming had no such lust for power. The territory of Guangdong alone was already the size of a respectable nation. He simply wanted to hold Guangdong, develop it peacefully, and wait for the day when every Han Chinese in the Central Plains would carry the name of Chen Jiongming of the Guangdong clique in their hearts.
Russia’s Charina would support him—not only because she favored Federal Provincial Autonomy, but also to keep Japan in check. Therefore, he would wear the face of a benevolent man and persuade the warlords.
“Let me be clear. The recent mediation proposal was decided arbitrarily by the provisional president. I never agreed to it. And as you can see, the result is an incomplete end to the civil war and an imperfect Central Plains.”
“You’re suddenly singing a different tune. Why is the Guangdong Commander, who is directly connected to Russia, saying this now?”
Chiang Kai-shek asked bluntly. He was clearly displeased that Chen Jiongming was tarnishing the reputation of the Sun Yat-sen he respected and shifting all blame onto him.
Chen Jiongming simply sneered without changing his expression and continued.
“The Chinese continent is vast, and its population is enormous. The very fact that so many warlords exist is proof of that. Because the population is so large, each of you here rules over a force that could have established a nation on any other continent. So let me speak plainly. None of you want to give up the power you currently hold, do you?”
The warlords cleared their throats. He wasn’t wrong. If Sun Yat-sen were still alive, things might be different. But with him dead, and after they had all mobilized the strength of their own regions during the Constitutional Protection War to fight Duan Qirui, none of them wished to surrender the authority they wielded like kings in their territories. When Chen Jiongming, backed by the great powers, said such things, their ears perked up.
“Then…?”
“In the first place, the current China does not have the capacity for true unification. Would it not be better for the warlords gathered here to develop their respective regions until they possess enough strength that even the great powers cannot interfere, and only then establish a unified government and decide the presidency through fair means?”
“So you’re saying we should divide the country?”
It was essentially a return to the Sixteen Kingdoms of the Five Barbarians, or the Warring States period. But when put into words, it sounded surprisingly reasonable. Forcing a single government together now would never result in true integration, and it was doubtful whether the regions the warlords cherished would achieve proper modernization.
Honestly, all they really needed was justification. A justification to rule their territories like kings as warlords.
“If Sun Yat-sen were alive, we would have no choice but to unite around him. But now, won’t we simply fight among ourselves? That would inevitably invite intervention from the great powers. Sun Yat-sen made a foolish choice in his final years—this time it was mediation, but next time they may demand compensation. Therefore, we should formally enthrone Puyi as Emperor of the Republic of China and implement Federal Provincial Autonomy.”
“Not a bad idea.”
The warlords agreed. All except one—Chiang Kai-shek.
“You mean you have no intention of unifying the country?”
“I’m not saying we won’t unify. I’m saying that continuing as we are will leave everyone dissatisfied.”
“Then what exactly are you proposing?”
“Later, we can measure which region has developed the most. If we decide through election at that time, wouldn’t everyone be able to accept it? As I said, we will still have an emperor. Can this truly be called division?”
There was no real division to begin with. In any case, all the warlords would once again formally install the Qing emperor. Wouldn’t that solve the problem simply? The Russian United States had its small republics, but China would do things the Chinese way—with warlords. At least, that was how Chen Jiongming saw it.
“Not bad at all.”
With the unanimous consent of the warlords, Puyi of the Qing dynasty, once master of the Forbidden City, was once again placed on the throne in a purely ceremonial capacity. And with each warlord taking charge of their own region, Federal Provincial Autonomy appeared to have begun—at least on the surface.
“As expected, China should be this way.”
Of course, to Anastasia, who received the report, it was nothing more than a regression to the Warring States period, the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms, or the Sixteen Kingdoms of the Five Barbarians.