Chapter 86: Unconditional Trust

It is an undisputed fact that Emperor Xuanzong of Tang turned a blind eye to the potential rebellion of An Lushan, but why did he fail to guard against the hidden threat An Lushan posed? This remains an enigma to all.

If there was any formidable obstacle on An Lushan’s path to rebellion, that obstacle was none other than Emperor Xuanzong himself. Yet, instead of blocking the way, this stone became a shield affording An Lushan supreme protection.

Historically, Emperor Xuanzong stands as one of the few Tang emperors who both strove for effective governance and, through his own indulgence in extravagance, led the empire to ruin. Two important historical terms are linked to his reign: the “Prosperous Era of Kaiyuan” and the “Catastrophe of Tianbao.” These two are as different as night and day, and yet Xuanzong’s legacy cannot simply be balanced out as a sum of positives and negatives, for both his achievements and failures left indelible marks on later generations.

Whether the rebellion of An Lushan could have been prevented or averted hinged on one key figure: the supreme ruler, Emperor Xuanzong. Until An Lushan raised his troops, Xuanzong held all power at court. Whether Li Linfu or Yang Guozhong wielded authority, neither could replace him. Though advanced in age, nothing could move forward without his consent. It was not that he lacked the ability to stop An Lushan’s treason; rather, he simply refused to believe An Lushan would ever turn against him.

Every event has its inevitability, but not all that happens is unavoidable. With proper handling, many dangers might have been defused. Even if chaos was bound to erupt somewhere—if not here, then elsewhere—it need not have broken out in Fanyang.

A world-shaking event never occurs without warning. Such an event may be hidden from one person or a few, but never from the entire realm. Signs of An Lushan’s rebellious intentions had long been noticed, and some had openly or covertly warned Emperor Xuanzong. Yet he refused to believe them. The conspiracy was not perfectly hidden, and at the very least, the fact that An Lushan, commanding three military districts and powerful armies, posed a grave threat should have set off alarms for Xuanzong. Why, then, did he remain oblivious?

An Lushan’s flattery was hardly sophisticated; his words were shallow, his insincerity easily seen through. Yet Xuanzong trusted him completely.

While Li Linfu lived, An Lushan felt himself less cunning and thus both admired and feared Li Linfu, not daring to act rashly. He could only make secret preparations, such as storing weapons in Xiongwucheng—a scheme Wang Zhongsi saw through. Wang repeatedly tried to alert the emperor, but Xuanzong paid no mind. When Yang Guozhong rose to chancellorship, An Lushan, who despised him, found conditions ripe after long preparation and thus no longer had any scruples about Yang; tensions between them grew.

Yang Guozhong repeatedly warned Xuanzong of An Lushan’s possible treason, but Xuanzong would not listen—no doubt, in part because of Yang’s personal enmity with An Lushan. Even Crown Prince Li Heng sensed signs of rebellion and reported them, but again Xuanzong refused to believe.

As time passed, more and more people warned Emperor Xuanzong that An Lushan might rebel, but nothing could shake his trust. He even went so far as to bind those who informed against An Lushan and hand them over to him for punishment. His trust reached a perverse extreme.

What, then, was the root of this? Xuanzong’s lack of vigilance cannot be explained solely by An Lushan’s feigned simplicity; rather, it must be understood in the context of the Tang dynasty’s century-long political strife.

For over a hundred years, the political struggles of the Tang court centered on palace coups. Emperor Taizong seized power in the Xuanwu Gate Incident by killing his brothers and forcing his father’s abdication; Empress Wu Zetian killed or exiled her own sons and eventually usurped the throne, exterminating the Li clan; Zhang Jianzhi and others staged a coup to restore Zhongzong; Prince Li Chongjun’s failed coup ended in bloodshed; Empress Wei and Princess Anle plotted to poison Emperor Zhongzong, enthroning the sixteen-year-old Li Chongmao under her regency; Princess Taiping and Li Longji joined forces to eliminate the Wu-Wei faction and support Ruizong; Prince Li Chongfu’s conspiracy was suppressed by Cui Rizhi; Princess Taiping plotted to depose Li Longji, only for him to turn the tables and ascend the throne himself.

Throughout, the main threat to imperial power came from within the royal family and the highest echelons of the court. The bloody and bloodless coups alike left a deep impression on the young Xuanzong, shaping his psyche profoundly.

It can thus be surmised that after ascending the throne, Xuanzong continued to regard threats as coming primarily from the court’s upper ranks and the royal family. Together with his chancellors, such as Yao Chong, he carefully studied the origins of past disasters and strove to avoid repeating them, seeking to stabilize his reign.

Three key measures were taken: first, he avoided employing meritorious officials; second, he sent royal princes to distant posts while keeping them under surveillance; third, he reformed the palace guard.

It is worth noting that in past coups, powerful officials often amassed enough influence to support a prince in seizing power, using the palace guards as their tool. These officials, with their special status and charisma, could even shake the emperor’s throne.

Following Yao Chong’s advice, Xuanzong dismissed or reassigned all those who had helped him gain the throne, stripping them of real power and giving them only honorary titles. Men like Guo Yuanzhen, Zhang Shuo, Liu Youqiu, Zhong Shaojing, Wang Ju, Cui Riyong, and Wei Zhigu, all of whom had played decisive roles in his rise, were first promoted and then soon dismissed, sent away, or exiled.

Chancellors promoted during Xuanzong’s reign mostly belonged to two groups: border generals who eventually saw their path to power blocked by Li Linfu, and men of humble birth with little political capital, such as Zhang Jiuling, Li Linfu, and Yang Guozhong. None could form a powerful faction, and while small cliques emerged, none could threaten the throne.

Thus, even as Li Linfu and Yang Guozhong later wielded great power, both had to curry favor with Xuanzong and act according to his wishes.

The royal princes, too, were seen as the roots of unrest, for only they could be propped up as rival claimants in a coup, posing a direct threat to the imperial authority. Shortly after his accession, Xuanzong, on Yao Chong’s advice, ordered the princes to take up positions as regional governors—such as appointing Prince Song Li Chengqi to Qizhou, Prince Shen Li Chengyi to Youzhou, and Prince Bin Li Shouli to Guozhou.

Xuanzong placed the daily lives and movements of these princes under strict surveillance—a most inhumane arrangement, reducing the royal family to virtual prisoners. His occasional personal visits to their residences, bearing gold and gifts, was but a thin veil over his deep suspicion.

Since Emperor Taizong’s seizure of power at the Xuanwu Gate, palace coups had often involved the Northern Gate guards. Xuanzong was particularly attentive to their control, first entrusting them to his confidant Wang Maozhong, but when Wang grew too powerful, he was stripped of his command and exiled. The post then went to the upright and frugal Chen Xuanli, whose loyalty ensured that the guards did not involve themselves in coups up to the outbreak of the An Lushan Rebellion.

In guarding against palace coups, Xuanzong was meticulous. He noticed that monks and Taoist priests often played roles in past plots, colluding with officials, manipulating superstitions, proclaiming omens, and serving as couriers for intelligence. Early in his reign, he issued an edict forbidding officials from associating with monks and Taoists, denouncing them as charlatans who corrupted the way. Households could only invite them for rituals with official approval, and offenders would be arrested by the censors or the Imperial Guard.

After all these measures to prevent coups and secure his throne proved effective, Xuanzong felt a powerful sense of security. Since the founding of the Tang, no general commanding troops had ever launched a successful rebellion; there was no precedent, and thus no reason for worry.

Not only in the Tang, but even before, the history of successful border rebellions was scant. Dynastic changes resulted either from peasant uprisings, the usurpation of the chief minister, or invasions by northern nomads—almost never from a border general’s revolt. This may be why Xuanzong lowered his guard toward An Lushan. Nor was he alone; Chancellor Li Linfu, too, saw no danger, which is why he allowed frontier generals of foreign origin to hold prolonged commands and maintain strong armies.

This, then, was the inner reason behind Xuanzong’s unconditional trust: what had never happened before seemed unlikely ever to happen. Only after the An Lushan Rebellion erupted did he awaken to this truth, but by then it was too late.

In his later years, Xuanzong became infatuated with grand achievements and was consumed with self-importance. The ambitions of Sima Zhao were plain for all to see, yet Xuanzong alone chose deliberate blindness. How lamentable! How tragic!