Early US-China Relations: Monumental Gesture

Today, we’ll talk about a Chinese stone tablet that informs readers about early US-China connections, revealing the mutual respect and admiration that bridged oceans long before the days of official diplomacy.

Transcript

Early US-China Relations: Monumental Gesture

Today, we’ll talk about a Chinese stone tablet that informs readers about early US-China connections, revealing the mutual respect and admiration that bridged oceans long before the days of official diplomacy.

At the heart of the National Mall in Washington, DC, the Washington Monument stands as an enduring symbol of the US’s achievements. This 555-foot white marble obelisk dominates the city’s skyline and embodies the ideals that forged the young nation.

Inside its walls rest nearly 200 carved commemorative tablets, donated by nations, states, organizations and individuals across the globe. Each tablet conveys respect, remembrance or goodwill. 

Among them, one tablet stands apart. Inscribed with graceful classical Chinese characters, it is the only Chinese tablet in the entire monument.

This tablet did not come through diplomatic channels or from official decrees, but from the vision of a thoughtful Chinese scholar‑official, American missionaries and the collaborative efforts of local communities in coastal China.

It quotes Yinghuan Zhilüe – A Brief Account of the Maritime Circuit, the groundbreaking work by Xu Jiyu, a senior statesman of the late Qing Dynasty, lasting from 1644 to 1911. 

The story behind this tablet reveals how people, driven by intellectual curiosity and mutual admiration, were building bridges of understanding without the aid of governments.

The idea of erecting a grand monument to George Washington arose shortly after his death in 1799. For a young nation still shaping its identity, honoring its founding father with a permanent memorial seemed only fitting. 

But the project advanced slowly. Financing was unstable, public enthusiasm wavered, wars interrupted progress and logistical hurdles delayed construction for decades. The cornerstone ceremony was finally held on July 4, 1848, with President James K. Polk in attendance. 

From the very beginning, the monument was conceived as more than a tribute. It was meant to celebrate the US’s connection to the world. Organizers invited global contributions, such as tablets, plaques, and carved stones honoring Washington’s character and achievements. These donated tablets would be embedded permanently within the monument, transforming a national landmark into a universal symbol of shared respect and friendship.

In China, word reached American missionaries in newly opened coastal trading ports. After the Opium War of the early 1840s, China opened five coastal cities to foreign trade: Guangzhou, Guangdong Province, Xiamen and Fuzhou in Fujian Province, Ningbo in Zhejiang Province and Shanghai. 

Western merchants, diplomats and missionaries arrived in growing numbers, establishing the first sustained modern contact with China.

At the time, the Qing court was overwhelmed by domestic unrest and foreign pressures. The global call for tablets drew no official response, although the first formal US contact with the Qing had begun in 1784, when the US merchant ship Empress of China arrived in Guangzhou, initiating trade relations. 

In 1844, the US dispatched diplomat Caleb Cushing to China, widely seen as the beginning of diplomatic ties, but official contact remained weak over the next decade.

For a time, it seemed no Chinese contribution would reach the monument. That changed when missionaries in Ningbo discovered a text that perfectly embodied the project’s spirit: a dignified, well‑crafted and deeply perceptive tribute to Washington by one of China’s most enlightened and pioneering scholar‑officials.

By the 1840s, US missionaries in coastal China had begun studying scholarly Chinese writings to understand local perspectives. Many mastered classical Chinese, collected books and engaged with scholars who looked beyond traditional inward‑looking views of global affairs.

Among these thinkers was Xu Jiyu, who served as governor in several coastal provinces including Fujian and Zhejiang, and later held senior diplomatic posts in the imperial government.

Deeply troubled by China’s military setbacks amid mid‑19th‑century Western incursions, Xu resolved to gain a thorough understanding of the world beyond China’s borders. Unlike many officials who clung to traditional insularity, he actively sought out Western diplomats, doctors and missionaries.

He gathered maps, studied documents and verified facts about the world. Over five years, he revised his manuscript dozens of times, finally publishing A Brief Account of the Maritime Circuit in 1848. 

Breaking free from the traditional Sinocentric worldview, the book and 42 included maps treated foreign nations with neutrality and gravity, rejecting age‑old stereotypes and dismissive labels. It made Xu one of China’s early reformist scholars who “opened their eyes to the world.”

Although he had never traveled to the West, Xu paid special attention to the US and George Washington. In his pioneering book, he spoke highly of Washington’s strong leadership in crisis, his devotion to the public good and his choice to step down once his mission was complete. 

He wrote of Washington’s integrity, courage and modesty with admiration, comparing Washington to some of China’s most revered ancient leaders. It concluded that Washington’s achievements placed him among the greatest leaders in history, a calm judgment of a seasoned statesman acknowledging a foreign leader with fair respect.

When US missionaries such as William Alexander Parsons Martin learned of this text from scholar Zhang Sigui, they immediately recognized its exceptional value.

Zhang was an early reform‑minded intellectual in Ningbo, familiar with Western learning and well‑versed in Xu’s writings. Martin was an American Presbyterian missionary who arrived in China in 1850 and spent more than 60 years in the country until his death in Beijing, becoming one of the most influential Westerners in the late Qing. 

The two became acquainted soon after Martin reached Ningbo. Zhang taught Martin classical Chinese and local culture, while Martin introduced Zhang to Western knowledge and international affairs.

Martin praised Xu’s writing about Washington as elegant, dignified and focused entirely on Washington’s leadership and virtue, precisely what the monument required. Unlike other texts the missionaries had reviewed, this passage carried the authority of a senior official’s scholarship, making it far more meaningful than casual commentary. After thoughtful consideration, the missionaries selected this passage for the tablet.

Once the text was approved by the local missionary community, a grassroots effort began in Ningbo to create the tablet and prepare it for its long voyage. The project was entirely private, supported by missionaries, local Christian communities and educated Chinese.

They chose high‑quality granite, an ideal material for a permanent monument. Master craftsmen carved the characters in neat script, adding traditional illuminations such as winding dragons and delicate floral scrolls, alongside standing warrior figures and seated religious figures. The carving took months, with multiple rounds of checks to prevent errors.

Standing 1.6 meters tall and 1.2 meters wide, the tablet was completed in the summer of 1853. It was inscribed “Carved in Ningbo, Zhejiang, Great Qing Empire.” 

Official US records list the donor simply as “American Mission, Ningpo, China,” confirming the tablet as not a state gift. “Ningpo” is now spelled as “Ningbo.”

In the second half of 1853, the tablet was carefully crated and loaded onto a merchant vessel at Ningbo Port. Its crossing of the Pacific was slow and turbulent. Storms, shifting cargo and humidity threatened to damage the tablet, but the protective packaging held. After months at sea, it arrived in Washington and was delivered to the monument construction site.

Workers installed the tablet on the west wall of the monument’s 10th floor without ceremony – a token of Chinese scholarly esteem that had found a permanent home within a US national landmark.

In the years that followed, the inscription was translated into English, allowing more visitors to appreciate the tribute from a senior Chinese official that reflected how Washington’s reputation had long reached intellectual circles in East Asia.

Meanwhile, Xu faced political hardship at home. His book was not initially popular and his views drew criticism from conservative officials. Amid political disputes, he was dismissed from office and lived in retirement for more than a decade.

But his reputation and influence gradually recovered. When China began its modernization movement in the 1860s, Xu’s intellectual legacy gained attention among reformist thinkers and statesmen. His forward‑looking vision not only earned him respect among generations of Chinese elites but also helped direct China’s early modernization.

In 1865, Xu was appointed to the Qing foreign ministry, serving as one of the several officials assisting its presiding prince. His return to public service was a clear sign that the Qing was moving to embrace reform and modernization.

In 1867, he took on another important role: superintendent of the Tongwen Guan, the first Chinese government school established to teach foreign languages and Western learning. This school merged in 1902 with the Imperial University of Peking, the predecessor of today’s Peking University.

Also in 1867, Anson Burlingame, a senior US diplomat to China under President Andrew Johnson, presented a portrait of Washington to Xu in a formal ceremony, honoring his thoughtful and objective portrayal of the US founding father.

The event was widely covered in US newspapers. On March 29, 1868, The New York Times hailed Xu as “the Galileo of the East,” a bold thinker who challenged traditional orthodoxy and helped revolutionize China’s understanding of the world.

Xu, however, did not live to see the Washington Monument fully completed in 1884, by which time the Chinese tablet had rested quietly in place for more than 30 years.

For much of the 20th century, the tablet faded into obscurity. Few visitors noticed it, and even fewer knew its story. But as China-US diplomatic relations evolved, it reemerged as a reminder that unofficial cultural exchange long predated modern treaties and government partnerships.

On June 29, 1998, US President Bill Clinton highlighted the tablet during a speech at Peking University, framing it as a symbol of early mutual respect between the Chinese and American peoples, and an enduring message from one civilization to another. His remarks drew widespread public attention to the tablet in both nations.

Today, the tablet remains well-preserved within one of the most famous landmarks in the US, which was shortly the world’s tallest structure until the erection of the Eiffel Tower in Paris in 1889.

More than a historical relic, the tablet recounts how goodwill and respect can outlast political shifts, geographic distance and the passage of time.

Well, that’s the end of our podcast. Our theme music is by the famous film score composer Roc Chen. We want to thank our writers Zhang Jin and Hou Zhenshan, translator Liu Wen, and copy editor JT. And thank you for listening. We hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, please tell a friend so they, too, can understand The Context.