Chapter Five: The Orthodox Han Dynasty of the Great Yuan Empire (Part Two)
During this period, the Java Yuan undertook a twofold approach: on one hand, they reorganized their military forces and built warships; on the other, scholars pondered a perplexing question: the Yuan dynasty was evidently so benevolent and powerful, so logically it should have enjoyed a long-lasting reign—why then did it collapse so swiftly? Only by unraveling this mystery could they avoid repeating the same mistakes.
Their conclusion was not difficult: the decline of the Yuan dynasty stemmed from endless internal strife. Whether within the khan’s lineage or between the Great Khan and Mongol nobility, there was a long-standing absence of stable institutions, with mere reliance on a few outstanding leaders to maintain order. At the slightest disturbance or conflict, severe clashes and internal consumption erupted, wreaking havoc on an already fragile system.
This fragile structure was precisely what the Mongols had brought with them. Their organization was primitive, their political acumen crude, ultimately ruining the once-prosperous Yuan dynasty.
It was clear that the Yuan was commendable in many ways, except for the Mongols themselves.
To revive the former national glory and restore the empire’s power during the eras of the Great Khan and Emperor Shizu, it was necessary to expel those who only knew how to cause trouble. Without the Mongols, the Yuan would flourish.
Thus, the Java Yuan called upon merchants and scholars to unite and establish a more refined Yuan regime. In dealings with Western maritime trading nations, they officially adopted the Latin and Greek name “The Legitimate Great Yuan Empire of the Han People.”
Guo Kang always felt this theory was somewhat odd, for no matter how one looked at it, the Java Yuan was neither legitimate nor truly Yuan, much less an empire—they were merely a federation founded by a group of merchants.
Moreover, many others shared this skepticism. Tuohuan complained to him, claiming that even the Holy Roman Empire’s Roman credentials might rank higher than the Java Yuan’s claim to the Yuan dynasty.
However, Sun Shiwan’s entourage informed them that the Mongols excluded by the Java Yuan were only the upper-class Mongol nobility. The maritime merchants certainly did not reject all Mongols: even during the Yuan dynasty, they frequently purchased Mongol slaves. To this day, Mongol slaves and soldiers still exist in some numbers within the Java Yuan.
This line of thinking led to some peculiar outcomes. For instance, during recent conflicts, Mongol officers in the Ming army outnumbered those on the Java Yuan side.
Tuohuan doubted whether this could still be called the Yuan dynasty at all. Yet the Java Yuan argued that the Yuan dynasty was no longer that of the Mongol Great Khans, but a shared dynasty between the Khans and the scholar-officials.
During the reign of the Great Khan Genghis Khan, the Mongols were still serviceable; by the time of Emperor Shizu, many tribes and even royal clans primarily caused trouble and needed to be disciplined. After Shizu, each successive Great Khan and noble seemed inferior to the last. Therefore, they believed it was their duty—on behalf of the Eternal Heaven and Genghis Khan—to properly discipline these Mongols, thereby honoring the Great Yuan.
Tuohuan found these arguments unconvincing and gave up. After all, it was a matter concerning Kublai Khan’s descendants, and as someone claiming to be a descendant of Batu Khan, he saw little reason to intervene.
Still, Guo Kang harbored serious doubts about whether they could be of any help, since the Java Yuan and the Ming dynasty had been bitter enemies for decades.
After the successive defeats of Vietnam and the Liang kingdom, the Java Yuan had become the greatest threat to the Ming dynasty’s southeastern frontier. Java pirates, in conjunction with remnants of the Yuan loyalists and factions led by Zhang Shicheng, Fang Guozhen, and Chen Youding, frequently raided the coasts, plundering relentlessly.
At first, the Ming tried to suppress the pirates by enforcing a maritime ban to sever their connections. This measure worked against small pirate bands but proved insufficient against a well-organized force like the Java Yuan with regular troops.
The Ming then attempted to relocate coastal populations in key areas and implemented scorched-earth tactics to cut off supplies to the Java pirates, forcing them to withdraw. However, these forced relocations disrupted local livelihoods and sparked even greater resentment.
Deprived of their means of living, fishermen and small traders flocked to the coasts, engaging in unauthorized fishing and black-market trade, even willingly joining the Java Yuan. Despite repeated prohibitions from the authorities, the situation worsened. Java forces openly landed, attacking counties, looting government treasuries, and coordinating with Yuan remnants in the northeast to launch multi-pronged raids, leaving the court overwhelmed.
In the twelfth year of the Hongwu reign, the Hu Weiyong case erupted. Someone accused him of secret dealings with Champa, a crucial buffer state between the Ming and Java Yuan. The incident quickly escalated into a major scandal of collusion with the Java Yuan and an alleged rebellion, shaking the entire empire.
Yet, taking advantage of this crisis, the Ming finally shifted tactics—ceasing harassment of fishermen and instead targeting the Java Yuan’s supporters within the upper and middle classes. They also began to build a navy, preparing to eliminate their enemies at sea.
Building a navy was an enormously expensive and ongoing endeavor. Unlike the army, which could farm during peacetime, ships required constant maintenance even when idle.
Moreover, a single ship was of little use; the navy had to be large enough to match the enemy’s fleet to be effective. Thus, investments were not for individual vessels but entire fleets.
Consequently, the central plains dynasties rarely showed enthusiasm for naval expansion.
Naval build-up was usually feasible only under two conditions: either the enemy inflicted such heavy losses that the high cost of the navy was justified, or the navy generated sufficient returns to bear its expenses.
The Ming had been forced into the former scenario. But once the navy was established and the war prolonged, pursuing the latter—reducing fiscal strain through profitable maritime trade—became natural.
In truth, overseas trade routes were immensely lucrative not only to the Purple Tent but to any nation. Although the Ming was a prolific producer of exquisite goods and appeared wealthy, such substantial tax revenues were no small matter to them. These profits were once considered dispensable, but having experienced them twice, they became reluctant to let go.
The second round of warfare was primarily naval. Although smaller in scale than the first, it spanned a broader area. The Java Yuan and Ming navies fought from the Ryukyus down to Malacca, turning the entire South Seas into a battleground.
At one point, the Ming built forts and stationed troops in Malacca, attempting to control the straits and cut off Java Yuan trade routes to starve them. The Java Yuan, meanwhile, circumvented the region to the south seeking new trade routes and allied with the Timurid Empire, driving the Ming forces away and reclaiming their footholds. A few years later, Ming troops sailed from Jiaozhi to the south, attempting to regain control over the trade lines.
Sporadic skirmishes continued until the death of Zhu Yuanzhang brought a temporary lull. However, peace lasted only a few years before his successor, Emperor Tianping Zhu Biao, launched new campaigns, targeting Luzon Island, plunging the two sides back into chaos. Strictly speaking, this phase of conflict has persisted to the present day.