Chapter 1122: The Hidden Danger in the Northwest

If one were to ask which region of the Great Han was the most complex in situation and the most difficult to govern, then without a doubt, it would be the northwestern region, especially the northern part of the Guannei Circuit and the He-Long lands that had not been recovered for very long.

Han and barbarians intermingled, with Rong and Di peoples lurking all around; ethnic issues were the root cause. Of course, since ancient times, there had always been troubles from the west—this was hardly a matter for surprise.

However, for the Great Han at present, the difficulties faced far surpassed those of previous dynasties. After all, never before had the Central Plains regime lost control of the He-Long lands for as long as it had fallen into the hands of the Tibetans during the Tang. Even if the Guiyi Army flourished for a time, it was nothing more than a fleeting dream.

By the time the Great Han returned to He-Long, what it faced could be described as a situation that had lost its popular foundation. Tibetans, Uyghurs, Tangut, Qiang, and other Hu peoples had already taken root and flourished on this land.

Although the Great Han adopted an inclusive attitude in accepting the people of all ethnicities, and all factions submitted in submission because of the empire's strength, in the process of promoting Han institutions, contradictions and conflicts remained unavoidable. Surrendering and then rebelling again was commonplace, and bloody incidents were even more frequent.

Some disturbances, some difficulties, some growing pains—for such a vast empire, these might not amount to much, but in the execution of assimilationist governance, the court remained very resolute.

On the other hand, due to the eastward shift of the governing center, the lack of the court's nearby deterrent presence also meant that the central government's ability to control the northwestern region was weaker than that of previous dynasties—indeed, the weakest among the unified dynasties since the Qin and Han.

This was an unavoidable problem. The distance between Chang'an and Kaifeng directly represented how much the difficulty of governing the northwest had increased for the court.

However, in the past two years, the contradictions between the old and new residents had become increasingly prominent. Ever since Zhe Congruan suppressed the northwestern rebellions, with the Han population being sparse, for over a decade the court had been continuously implementing a policy of relocating households to fortify the frontiers in the northwestern border prefectures.

According to official court records, over a period of fifteen years in total, the Great Han had relocated more than three hundred thousand people to the northwestern region. Do not underestimate this figure—even given the vastness of the northwest, it was already considerable.

Among these, three waves were the largest in scale: after the Guanzhong-Shu rebellion, the rebels were relocated to the frontiers; after the conquest of Shu, powerful clans and rebels were relocated; and then there was the forcible relocation of major households from the southeast.

Having spent so much time and expended so much effort, results naturally appeared. At the very least, the originally imbalanced population distribution had become somewhat more reasonable, and the northwestern region now carried a heavier flavor of Han culture and Chinese customs.

However, the massive influx of external populations, while filling the gap in the Han population, also directly tested the governing capacity and methods of the officials. Public security issues, cultural conflicts, old-new contradictions—all sorts of problems affecting harmony in the northwest emerged one after another.

In the eyes of many long-time northwestern residents, these outsiders were criminals, refugees, and wolves coming to seize their living space.

And most of the relocated households were not willing to come in the first place. Of the more than three hundred thousand people, less than two-tenths were landless peasants and paupers gathered from across the realm, plus those who had been attracted by the court's land-grant policy for relocated households in the northwest and had developed the idea of venturing out.

The rest were either exiled criminals, forcibly relocated powerful clans, landlords, and commoners, or remnants of rebels from places like Chuanshu and Wuyue.

These people, of complex backgrounds and full of resentment, were then placed in the northwest, a land prone to turmoil—just thinking about it was hardly a pleasant prospect. This was roughly a case of new problems emerging before old ones had been completely resolved.

It was only because the authority of the Great Han court was at its peak, because it attached sufficient importance to the northwest, because its governance was strong enough, and because the relocated households were dispersed in their placement, that the problems had not yet become acute.

But the problem of relocated households was genuinely sitting right there. Inside and outside the capital, there was no shortage of insightful people—for instance, Guo Tong, who had governing experience in the northwest, had submitted a memorial to Emperor Liu discussing the issue of relocated households.

Wang You, the former Prefectural Administrator of Bin Prefecture who had been promoted to Judicial Commissioner of Guannei, had also submitted a memorial, reminding the court that the relocated households in the northwest harbored much resentment and hoping that the court would attach importance to the matter.

In response, Emperor Liu gave positive feedback. Besides issuing several edicts to the various circuits and prefectures of the northwest to properly handle ethnic affairs and matters concerning old and new residents, he also temporarily suspended the policy of forcibly relocating populations to the border prefectures.

After all, Emperor Liu's relocation of people to fortify the frontiers was meant to balance the population and consolidate governance. A certain amount of popular resentment and backlash could be borne, but if this policy actually led to some major disturbance, then the loss would outweigh the gain.

If that were to become entangled with the various Hu peoples who were already unreliable in their submission and rebellion... just thinking about that situation gave one a headache.

Of course, Emperor Liu would not regret the frontier-fortification policy because of these destabilizing factors. After all, compared to those barbarian savages, the relocated people were ultimately Han, long nurtured by Han culture—no matter how much resentment they harbored, they would still be easier to govern.

And in a place where Rong and Di ran rampant, if they wanted to survive, who else could they rely on besides the court, besides the great family of Huaxia?

What the court needed to do was, on the basis of maintaining social stability, rely on time to dissolve that resentment and grant preferential treatment in policy—such as tax reductions.

Emperor Liu also believed in the resilience and adaptability of the Huaxia people. Once the relocated households thoroughly put down roots in the northwestern prefectures, they would eventually become a force the Han ruling house could rely upon.

It merely required time, and the empire needed to remain strong and stable.

As for the various peoples of the northwest, Emperor Liu ultimately decided to continue the policy of assimilation. Unlike the southwest, which was constrained by geography, in the northwest, no matter what ethnicity, as long as they lived on the soil of the Great Han, the court's power could reach them with ease—this was also the most important reason for the difference in governance methods.

Among the various peoples, the Uyghurs were already crippled, the Tibetans were severely divided, and the remaining small tribes and groups were not worth mentioning. As of the fourth year of Kaibao, the only ones worthy of Emperor Liu's vigilance and attention were the Tangut people entrenched in Ling and Xia.

Although political and economic measures had been applied simultaneously, and through the Great Han's years of unremitting bribery and division, the Dingnan Army and the Tangut people had already lost their momentum, they had ultimately not been wounded at the root and still possessed the capacity to stir up rebellion.

The Military Intelligence Bureau had reported a situation to Emperor Liu: the Dingnan Army, which had been divided for five or six years, showed signs of reuniting. The first reason was that Military Governor Li Guangrui's position had gradually stabilized, and he was winning over Yin and Sui Prefectures and the various Tangut tribes.

The second reason—well, the problem lay with the Great Han itself. The campaign to destroy the Ganzhou Uyghurs had struck the greatest fear not into others, but precisely into the Dingnan Army and the Tangut people.

After all, the Ganzhou Uyghurs of this period, in terms of strength, might not have matched the Tangut, but they certainly surpassed the Dingnan Army—and yet that was the fate they met.

One could imagine: if the court wanted to destroy the Dingnan Army, how much effort would it take?

In the face of crisis, internal contradictions and disputes could be temporarily set aside to unite against the external threat. It could be said that the division of the Dingnan Army was the court's doing, and the reunification of the various Lis was likewise forced by pressure from the court.

Upon learning of the Dingnan Army's situation, Emperor Liu also realized that resolving the Dingnan Army and the Tangut problem could not be accomplished by political and economic means alone—military force was the most effective method.

Moreover, having dragged on for so long, it was time to resolve this problem. Having this one small patch of different color on the map of the Great Han was indeed an eyesore.

And whether it was the problems of the various peoples, the relocated households, or the Dingnan Army, for the Great Han at present, they were all hidden dangers.