Page 105 of Babel

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The next morning Robin accompanied Mr Baylis to the downtown government office for their audience with Imperial High Commissioner Lin Zexu.

‘This Lin fellow is smarter than the rest,’ said Mr Baylis as they walked. ‘Nigh incorruptible. In the southeast, they call him Lin Qingtian* – clear as the heavens, he’s so impervious to bribes.’

Robin said nothing. He had decided to suffer through the rest of his duties in Canton by doing the bare minimum required of him, and this did not involve egging on Mr Baylis’s racist diatribes.

Mr Baylis did not appear to notice. ‘Now, be on your toes. The Chinese are a devilishly tricky sort – duplicitous by nature, and all that. Always saying one thing when they mean quite the opposite. Careful you don’t let them get the better of you.’

‘I’ll stay sharp,’ Robin said shortly.

By Mr Baylis’s account, one would imagine Commissioner Lin was nine-foot tall, had eyes that could shoot fire and trickster’s horns. In person, the Commissioner was a mild-mannered, gentle-featured man of average height and build. His person was entirely nondescript save for his eyes, which seemed unusually bright and perceptive. He had with him his own interpreter, a young Chinese man who introduced himself as William Botelho, and who, to Robin’s surprise, had studied English in the United States.

‘Welcome, Mr Baylis,’ said Commissioner Lin as William swiftly translated into English. ‘I’m told you have some thoughts you would like to share with me.’

‘The issue, as you know, is the opium trade,’ said Mr Baylis. ‘It is the opinion of Mr Jardine and Mr Matheson that it would benefit both your people and ours if their agents could legally sell opium along the coast in Canton without interference. They’d appreciate an official apology for the inhospitable treatment their trading agents received earlier this year. And it seems only just that the twenty thousand chests of opium that were seized a few months ago are returned to us, or at least monetary compensation equivalent to their market value.’

For the first few moments Commissioner Lin only listened, blinking, as Robin continued to rattle off Mr Baylis’s list of demands. Robin tried not to convey Mr Baylis’s tone, which was loud and patronizing, but to instead deliver them in as flat and emotionless a manner as he could manage. Still, his ears reddened in embarrassment; this did not feel like a dialogue but a lecture, the sort one might give a dim child.

Mr Baylis did not seem baffled by Commissioner Lin’s lack of response; when his words met with silence, he merely continued: ‘Misters Jardine and Matheson would also like to say that the Qing Emperor ought to realize his government’s exclusive trade policies do not benefit the Chinese. Your own people, in fact, resent your trade barriers, which they believe do not represent their interests. They would much rather enjoy free association with foreigners, for that gives them too an opportunity to seek wealth. Free trade is, after all, the secret to national prosperity – and believe me, your people could do with reading some Adam Smith.’

Finally, Commissioner Lin spoke. ‘We know this.’ William Botelho swiftly translated. It was an odd conversation, conveyed through four people, none of whom spoke directly to the person he was listening to. ‘These are the precise terms in the many letters delivered from Misters Jardine and Matheson, no? Have you come to say anything new?’

Robin looked expectantly to Mr Baylis. Mr Baylis faltered briefly. ‘Well – no, but it bears repeating in person—’

Commissioner Lin clasped his hands behind his back, then asked, ‘Mr Baylis, is it not true that in your own country, opium is prohibited with the utmost strictness and severity?’ He paused to let William translate.

‘Well, yes,’ said Mr Baylis, ‘but the question is trade, not Britain’s domestic restrictions—’

‘And,’ continued Commissioner Lin, ‘does not the sanction against your own civilians’ use of opium prove that you know full well how harmful it is to mankind? We should like to ask, has China ever sent forth a noxious article from its soil? Have we ever sold you anything save for that which is beneficial, that which your country has great demand for? Is your argument now that the opium trade is, in fact, good for us?’

‘The debate,’ insisted Mr Baylis, ‘is about economics. I once had an admiral seize my ship and search it for opium. When I explained to him I had none, as I follow the laws set by the Qing Emperor, he professed disappointment. He was hoping to purchase it wholesale and redistribute it himself, you see. Which proves the Chinese have much to profit from this trade as well—’

‘You are still avoiding the question of who smokes the opium,’ said Commissioner Lin.

Mr Baylis gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Robin, tell him—’

‘I will reiterate to you what we wrote to your Queen Victoria,’ said Commissioner Lin. ‘Those who wish to trade with our celestial empire must obey the laws set down by the Emperor. And the Emperor’s new law, about to be put into force, reads that any foreigners bringing opium into China with designs to sell it will be decapitated, and all property on board the ship will be confiscated.’

‘But you can’t do that,’ Mr Baylis blustered. ‘Those are British citizens you’re talking about. That’s British property.’

‘Not when they choose to be criminals.’ Here William Botelho mirrored Commissioner Lin’s cool disdain with exact precision, down to the slightest arch of his eyebrow. Robin was impressed.

‘Now look here,’ said Mr Baylis. ‘The British don’t fall under your jurisdiction, Commissioner. You haven’t got any real authority.’

‘I am aware that you believe your interests will always supersede our laws,’ said Commissioner Lin. ‘Yet we stand inside Chinese territory. And so I will remind you, and your masters, that we will enforce our laws as we see fit.’

‘Then you know we’ll have to defend our citizens as we see fit.’

Robin was so amazed Mr Baylis had spoken these words out loud that he forgot to translate. There was an awkward pause. At last, William Botelho murmured Mr Baylis’s meaning in Chinese to Commissioner Lin.

Commissioner Lin was utterly unfazed. ‘Is this a threat, Mr Baylis?’

Mr Baylis opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it, and then closed it. Irritated as he was, he’d apparently realized that as much as he loved verbally berating the Chinese, he still couldn’t issue a declaration of war without his government’s backing.

All four parties regarded each other in silence.

Then abruptly, Commissioner Lin nodded to Robin. ‘I would like a private conversation with your assistant.’

‘Him? He hasn’t any company authority,’ Robin translated automatically on Mr Baylis’s behalf. ‘He’s just the interpreter.’


Tags: R.F. Kuang Fantasy