The Qing dynasty & Teacher Jin

The Qing dynasty and Teacher Jin

Beijing tutor is the last emperor's nephew

By GEOFFREY YORK

Globe and Mail, Monday, May 30, 2005 Page A1

BEIJING -- The sad-looking man on the bicycle is known to most people as Teacher Jin, an ordinary teacher of Chinese literature at a Beijing school. But his closest friends call him something else: the emperor's nephew.

Not long ago, Jin Yulan would have found himself in serious trouble if he had boasted of his true identity. He spent seven years doing "labour reform" in the countryside of Henan province during the Cultural Revolution, and he much preferred the anonymity of teaching.

Today, however, the 56-year-old can talk openly about his imperial connections and even use it to promote his private business interests. The name that once doomed him to persecution is now so prestigious that others are illegally adopting it to do business of their own.

His father was the youngest brother of Pu Yi, the last emperor of China. By some calculations, Mr. Jin could have been third in line for the throne if the Qing dynasty had survived.

"I feel very happy to be a common person," he said. "If the Qing dynasty still actually existed, it's very possible that I would be dead already, because the fight for the emperor's position is very cruel."

Mr. Jin, who still teaches 10 literature classes every week, is often seen on his bicycle as he pedals to antique shows around Beijing to indulge his collecting hobby.

At one time, he could do so in anonymity. Now, he is increasingly recognized and asked about his family history. And where his uncle was once seen as a disgraced war criminal and collaborator with the Japanese, now there is less animosity toward the imperial family.

"Today's Chinese, including the leaders, are starting to respect history," Mr. Jin said in an interview.

"In the past, if we had talked about our family, it would probably have caused problems for us. The imperial family was seen as bad, a family that deserved to be overthrown. When looking for a job or a Communist Party post, we would have been treated unfairly. But now, with our democracy and laws developing, people are becoming more objective about history."

Mr. Jin took another step toward rehabilitation when he held an exhibition and sale of more than 900 antiques from his private collection of 7,000 items this month.

As many as 600 people a day visited the exhibition at a furniture warehouse, buying dozens of items for prices ranging from 200 to 100,000 yuan (about $30 to $15,000). Only a tiny percentage of the antiques had any connection to the emperor's family, however, and one Hong Kong newspaper sneered that the exhibit was as amateurish as a flea market.

"Too many things were destroyed in the Cultural Revolution," Mr. Jin explained. "The best and most valuable items were lost."

And despite the criticism, the buyers seemed happy.

"Most of these items are authentic," said a 40-year-old taxi driver who was shopping at the exhibit. "I've heard several people praising them. One buyer spent 600 yuan on an item and predicted he could sell it for at least 1,500 soon."

On the final day of the eight-day sale, a crowd gathered around a water-filled porcelain bowl, admiring the musical sound it made when rubbed the right way. Staff workers rushed to Mr. Jin, asking the price of various items, while one visitor tried to persuade him to sell an ink bottle with a poem inscribed on it.

"I won't sell it, even for 100,000 yuan," the teacher replied. "I particularly like that one."

Mr. Jin is descended from the Manchu, the northern people who seized power in Beijing in 1644, founding the Qing dynasty. His uncle, who ascended to the throne as a three-year-old, was deposed just two years later in the 1911 revolution. He was later installed as the puppet emperor of Japanese-occupied China in 1934.

Mr. Jin was born with the imperial surname Aisin Gioro, the Manchu family name of emperors and princes of the Qing dynasty. His family was ordered to take an ordinary Chinese surname, but today the imperial name is coming back into fashion.

"There are too many people using the name Aisin Gioro," he said. "Some of them are actually unknown to us. Some are fake for sure."

He insists he is not embittered by the hardships of his early years, although he regrets his "wasted time" during the Cultural Revolution.

"Life must contain failures and frustrations. I prefer to look forward. Walking forward from failure and frustration is the biggest treasure that you can get from life."

His family is leading a comfortable life now. His eldest brother, the 62-year-old vice-mayor of a local district of Beijing, was recently praised in a Chinese newspaper as a "kind and honest man." Another brother is a university official. Their father is a frail and deaf 87-year-old, living in a modest Beijing courtyard home and refusing interviews.

Mr. Jin said he wants to dedicate himself to promoting China's traditional culture after he retires.

"If a nationality doesn't have its own culture and always follows McDonald's or Kentucky Fried Chicken, this nationality is finished.

"After a long period of being a closed and narrow society, many Chinese cannot resist the lure of Western culture. The Cultural Revolution destroyed our good traditions, and now people are hungrily absorbing everything indiscriminately. People need to inherit the traditions of their own nationality."