Chapter 2082: Taizong Arc 24: The Backlash Begins

The local strongmen on the frontier, when faced with major court policies, often overreact and readily resort to violent actions—crude, reckless, and lacking in finesse. This is in truth a manifestation of their lack of means.

And compared to the bloody frontal resistance of the frontier regions, the opposition occurring in the core agricultural prefectures of the Great Han is smarter, more concealed, and far more troublesome.

After all, unlike those boorish country bumpkins who know neither propriety nor restraint, regions such as the Central Plains, Hebei, Huguang, and Jiangnan are home to the Great Han's powerful nobles and worthy worthies, and at the very least, local gentry and notable figures. Compared to ordinary local strongmen, they are the true main force contending with the court's new policies.

Whether in terms of awareness, influence, the power and strength they hold in their hands, or the energy they can mobilize and deploy, none of it can be compared to the petty disturbances occurring on the frontier.

And after seven years of probing, collision, and entanglement, the meritorious nobles, bureaucrats, and landlords who hold core interests in the land question within the Great Han Empire have seen their coping methods continuously evolve with the passage of time.

From initial disputes, to open obstruction and covert opposition, to exploiting loopholes in the law and completing nominal land distribution to households while preserving personal dependency relations, to the current brazen concealment of land—what has been happening throughout is a game of contention between the center and the localities, between the state and the powerful.

But whether in the past or the present, they have never engaged in direct confrontation—that is the inferior strategy, and going too far would only invite fierce suppression from the court.

Beyond that, they have countless means and methods. Possessing knowledge, familiar with the law, and even holding the power to interpret it, they unleash a flood of inspiration when it comes to protecting their own interests—detouring, cutting in sideways, launching "attacks" from the flanks and from behind. And those hidden obstructions are all the more difficult to deal with.

It can be said in all honesty that the Great Han's tax reform has now reached a state of stagnation. The overall trajectory of the process is also quite clear: from the initial unstoppable momentum, to the mid-stage entanglement and collision, to the present struggle and difficulty.

What is even more critical is that if the reform is pushed any deeper, no one knows what turbid waves might be stirred up, whether it might affect national stability, or endanger the court's rule.

Of course, up to the present, the achievements of the tax reform remain considerable. First, it has played a certain restraining role on landlord classes at all levels;

Second, whether in substance or merely in name, a large number of self-cultivating farmers have been created out of thin air, and the situation of land annexation has been somewhat curbed;

Third, under the new tax system, the grain tax burden on small farmers and small households has been somewhat alleviated, which to a certain extent has eased the contradictions between the ruling class and the exploited class;

Fourth, the Great Han's fiscal revenue has seen some growth—though, of course, the increase has not been significant.

Especially the fourth point, which can also indirectly reflect some problems with the tax reform. Looking only at the original intention of the reform, it was not because the court's finances had encountered major problems, or that the center could no longer collect taxes from the localities—it was simply an attempt at decisive, autocratic action by Emperor Shizu.

This is also a point unacceptable to many. In the eyes of numerous officials and ministers, this tax reform was completely unnecessary, and they even believe deep down that Emperor Shizu was simply making trouble again.

During these seven years of tax reform, a large number of reform vanguards and seasoned experts have emerged from the center to the localities, presenting a picture of unanimous enthusiasm.

It cannot be denied that among these capable reform officials, there is a portion of idealists who can understand Emperor Shizu's well-intentioned efforts and his far-sighted vision, and are willing to contribute their strength toward the great harmonious society of "land to the tiller." But likewise, these are only an extremely small minority.

As for the rest, some blindly obey the emperor's edicts, some harbor doubts but outwardly offer vigorous support while their actual actions are limited, and some are simply afraid to defy Emperor Shizu's authority.

And the majority, much like the once-flourishing "Western Expedition Faction," are driven more by political choice and speculative psychology. Of course, those who displayed outstanding talent in the tax reform did indeed receive promotions and advancements in rank.

One Pan You, one Zheng Qi—two southern officials—both became senior officials of circuit administration in this process. Especially the latter—Pan You still had the advantage of reputation and the sponsorship of his old acquaintance Zhao Pu, while Zheng Qi, whose upright conduct in office had offended countless people, is now already the dignified chief administrator of the Liaodong Circuit.

Therefore, at least half a conclusion can be drawn: this tax reform of the Great Han Empire, which began in the late Kaibao era, was an immature reform—a top-down positive practice dedicated to resolving land contradictions and easing ruling contradictions.

Now, in the present moment when Kaibao has receded and Yongxi has arrived, this practice has also reached a critical turning point. Whether to continue deepening the reform or to stop at the appropriate time—this question has already been placed before Emperor Liu Yang.

A simple analysis of the past seven years of tax reform reveals that in the process of contention, at least in the early stage, whether meritorious nobles, bureaucrats, or landlords and merchants, all remained in a position of compromise. When the court advanced a step, they blocked it; when they could not block it, they retreated a step—repeating this cycle until the vested interest groups retreated to their bottom line of compromise.

It was almost a kind of "social consciousness"—a consensus reached unanimously by the Great Han's meritorious nobles, bureaucrats, and landlord classes. The emperor wanted to carry out reform, the court wanted to change the tax system—they could not stop it, nor did they intend to completely stop it, for that would be to underestimate the enhancement that the current imperial system provides to the emperor's authority. But likewise, how the reform would be carried out, and to what extent, could not be entirely dictated by the court.

In the course of exhausting every scheme and every means in the tug-of-war against the new policies, that "bottom line" gradually revealed itself. Using land as the tax standard, distinguishing tax levels by land quantity—these were all fine. But how much land the vested interests were willing to expose, how much to "distribute" to clan members, retainers, and tenant farmers, and how much land they were willing to register in the government's ledgers—that required room for discussion.

And if the court sought to take everything, to make everyone reveal their entire holdings, that would touch upon everyone's "bottom line" and inevitably provoke resistance. Of course, during the pilot reforms, quite a few places did do exactly that, but there was a precondition: thoroughly "striking down" and "subjugating" the powerful and landlords—and even then, it provoked numerous controversies and chaos.

The court could achieve comprehensive land surveying in one county, one prefecture, or even one circuit, but it could absolutely not spread it nationwide—that was simply impossible. After all, reform could not dig up the empire's very foundations (the meritorious nobles and bureaucrats), and revolution does not mean revolution against oneself.

In fact, the original choice of the capital region and Henan as pilot areas, judging from subsequent developments, was not the most appropriate choice—for no other reason than the resistance was too great. They thought having it right under their noses would make it easy to control, thought they could start by gnawing on the hardest bone—the results proved they had overthought it.

As early as before Emperor Shizu's passing, counterattacks against the tax reform from various regions had already begun. Of course, out of fear that Emperor Shizu might lose his temper, overturn the table, and kill people, they remained relatively restrained.

But in those two or three years, all sorts of problems arising from the tax reform flew toward the capital like paper scraps, landing on the desks of the chancellors at the Hall of State Affairs, and even entering the field of vision of the Emperor and the Crown Prince.

Although highly targeted, they were not shooting blindly—their words often had substance and basis in fact. But disputes were disputes, opposition was opposition; on the whole, it remained within the "rules."

But since Emperor Shizu's passing, within the short span of just over a year—more precisely, within the six months since Liu Yang ascended the throne—the situation has changed. From top to bottom, from within to without, contradictions have escalated and conflicts have intensified.

In the localities, disturbances caused by dissatisfaction with land survey results have repeatedly been reported—between commoners and commoners, between villages and villages. On the content of the tax system, issues of mountain and hill land, fertile and barren fields, paddy and dry fields—all manner of such matters have triggered conflicts and disturbances among the people, causing no small headache for local governments everywhere.

At the same time, officials have been swallowing policies whole without proper implementation, going through the motions perfunctorily; one predecessor does things one way, a successor does them another; local bureaucrats fight over the great power of the tax reform; and cases of reform officials and local bureaucrats using the name of tax reform to attack and retaliate against political enemies have become common occurrences.

Of course, some reformists and tax reform officials themselves have been incompetent or even greedy and lawless, and have had their vulnerabilities seized upon and been fiercely denounced.

There are also those who have transformed from reformists into centrists, from keen and enterprising to dawdling and slack, or even directly defected to join the conservative camp, using their rich experience in reform to oppose reform, attacking its mistakes and flaws. What's more, some have been dragged into the water by local forces—not only loosening their grip on reform but also colluding with them to deceive the court.

And local forces have begun to stage a comeback. Many new self-cultivating farmers who received land not only have to repay their masters' "loans" but also pay the regular taxes under the new system. In some rampant localities, they even directly calculate according to the original landlord-tenant share ratio, which means that these new self-cultivating farmers not only retain in practice their original tenant status and dependency on the landlords, but on top of that must also pay a portion of regular taxes to the court—such is the change brought by the new tax system.

Many commoners at the bottom, when they were tenants, could barely get by; after becoming self-cultivating farmers with land nominally their own, their lives have instead become even more bitter.

Such circumstances naturally breed discontent, even resentment, and this portion of popular grievance, under the guidance of those with ulterior motives, naturally points toward the court, toward those tax reform officials, toward the new tax system.

Add a few more oppressive actions, a bit more instigation, and disturbances erupt. By the seventh month of the first year of Yongxi, within a span of just over half a year, over a hundred popular uprisings had occurred across the circuits of Hedong, Guannei, Jiannan, Lianghuai, and Sanjiang.

Especially in Fengcheng County under Jiangxi Circuit—over a thousand rioters actually stormed the county seat, broke into the government offices, and killed officials, tantamount to rebellion. Although quickly suppressed, the impact was extremely odious—this was not barbarian tribes or ethnic minorities in remote regions causing trouble, but Han people. The last time something like this happened was the Yuan brothers during the Yulin Rebellion.

And these disturbances, accompanied by various voices, have been reported up through the layers, like countless trickling streams converging into a river, with overwhelming momentum, pointing directly at the new tax system. Among the dozen or so memorials the Emperor has most recently received, some already advise abolishing the new flawed system and restoring the old one, to return peace to the realm!

Though it is only the beginning, Emperor Liu Yang can already sense, behind those flimsy memorials, the surging waves and torrential public opinion that follow close behind. What he is about to face may well be overwhelming pressure…