THE FIRST REALM: 

THE MING EMPIRE

In 1271, Kublai Khan, the formidable Khagan of the Mongols, declared the founding of the Yuan Empire, a seismic shift that culminated in the subjugation of the orthodox Song Empire by 1279. Yet, this racist, imperialist, despotic dominion was spectacularly dismantled in 1368 by an unlikely figure: the Hongwu Emperor (홍무제), a destitute orphan who rose to found the Ming Empire (대명국) (1368–1662), aptly named the 'Empire of Sublime Illumination.' This radiant realm reshaped the destiny of East Asia, casting a luminous glow across the continent.

At the heart of the Sinosphere, the Ming Empire envisioned itself as a Celestial Realm, its Emperor the Son of Heaven, anointed by the Mandate of Heaven to steward a Confucian society. Through a delicate dance of tributes and gifts, it wove a vibrant tapestry of international trade, invigorating its economy. Agricultural reforms sparked bountiful harvests, swelling the population, while maritime ventures and the revitalised Silk Road amplified commerce. Under the visionary Emperor Yongle the Great (영락제), Admiral Zheng He (정화) embarked on seven odysseys to the 'West Oceans,' forging bonds of diplomacy and trade, not conquest, in a testament to enlightened statecraft.

The Ming era shimmered with cultural brilliance, its blue-and-white porcelain coveted globally, its literary works a beacon of intellectual liberty. The rise of Yangmingism, a Neo-Confucian philosophy championing personal conscience and moral self-cultivation, reshaped thought. Literacy flourished among men and women alike, birthing masterpieces like Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Journey to the West, Water Margin, and The Plum in the Golden Vase, each a vibrant ode to artistic freedom. Scientific strides in agriculture and astronomy flourished, driven by polymaths like Paul Siu, known as Xu Guangqi (서광계), whose contributions enriched Eastern knowledge.

By the fifteenth century, the Ming had crafted a refined bureaucratic edifice, underpinned by civil service examinations, robust defence systems, and pioneering technologies, such as movable metal type printing. During the Japanese invasions of Joseon (1592–1598), the Ming dispatched over 100,000 troops, cementing a profound alliance rooted in mutual respect.

Yet, shadows loomed. Fiscal woes, fuelled by tax resistance from scholar-officials, famines, the burdens of defending Korea, and relentless Manchu incursions—originally Jurchens—strained the empire. The Little Ice Age further ravaged agriculture, precipitating crisis. In 1644, Peking fell to peasant rebels led by Li Zicheng, whose fleeting regime crumbled swiftly. The Ming court fled to Nanking, its ancestral seat.

By 1662, the Manchus extinguished the Ming, ushering in the Qing dynasty through ruthless conquest. Their regime, stained by atrocities like the Yangzhou massacres and the execution of the Yongli Emperor (영력제) (r. 1646–1662) and his heir, Prince Constantine, imposed cultural erasure. Decrees forced non-Manchu men to shave their foreheads, don pigtails, and adopt nomadic garb, severing ties to Han heritage. The Qing could never claim the mantle of legitimacy held by the Han, Tang, Song, or Ming. The Yongli Emperor’s execution was no mere regicide; it marked the eclipse of a sophisticated civilisation, the twilight of the Confucian commonwealth (천하), and a rupture in the moral arc of history.

The Mandate of Heaven, as the sage Mencius proclaimed, is not seized by blade or battalion but earned through virtue, justice, and devotion to the people’s welfare. The Ming Empire (대명국), for all its imperfections, emerged from the ashes of chaos through the Hongwu Emperor (홍무제), a peasant who toppled the Mongol Yuan, a regime of disarray and barbarity. This was no mere dynastic shift; it was a triumph of civilisation, a restoration of enlightened rule. Yet, the Qing dynasty (청나라) tells a darker tale. The Manchus, hailing from the rugged northeast of Manchuria, were strangers to the Chinese world for much of history. 

They captured Peking not through divine sanction or popular will but by exploiting the Ming’s collapse under a peasant revolt led by Li Zicheng, who had briefly claimed the capital. This was no moral victory—it was opportunism, a theft of destiny. Worse, their conquest was drenched in blood. In 1645, at Yangzhou, Manchu forces slaughtered tens of thousands to quell resistance, a savage act that mocked the Confucian ethos of benevolence. To the Chinese and their allies in Joseon Korea (조선), this brutality betrayed a profound truth: the Manchus lacked the moral fibre to claim Heaven’s mandate to govern the Celestial Realm.

The Qing, through conquest, cultural impositions, and ethnic favouritism, strayed far from Confucian ideals. Joseon Korea perceived this with piercing clarity, preserving Ming traditions as a quiet rebellion, asserting itself as the true guardian of Confucianism’s spirit. The Qing might have ruled the Central Plains, but to rule is not to belong. For those who revered Confucian values—especially in Joseon—the Ming’s legacy, not the Qing’s dominion, cradled the soul of a civilisation. This enduring contestation teaches us a timeless lesson: true leadership is not about seizing the throne but about embodying the heart of a people.

THE SECOND REALM: 

THE DAEHAN EMPIRE

In the wake of the Ming Empire’s (대명국) fall, Joseon Korea (조선), a bastion of Confucian ideals, boldly claimed cultural supremacy over the Manchu-led Qing (청나라) through the doctrine of Sojunghwa (소중화). This philosophy anointed Joseon as the true heart of Confucian civilisation, a torchbearer of Ming heritage in defiance of Qing barbarity. Though geographically distinct, Joseon positioned itself as the Ming’s spiritual heir, zealously preserving its rituals, scholarship, and ethos against Manchu erosion. At Changdeokgung Palace, Joseon kings ritually venerated Ming emperors, a poignant act of resistance that proclaimed the enduring legitimacy of the Ming’s Confucian vision.

This cultural stewardship culminated in the late 19th century under King Gojong (고종), who sought to transcend Joseon’s vassal status. In 1897, after a 235-year hiatus of imperial authority, Gojong declared himself the Gwangmu Emperor (광무제) (r. 1897–1907) of the Daehan Empire (대한제국), donning Ming imperial regalia to signal continuity with the Confucian past. Once more, a Cheonja (‘Son of Heaven’) helmed the Confucian world, reviving its moral and political order. 

The Gwangmu reforms invigorated the empire, modernising infrastructure, bolstering the economy, and strengthening the military. Education, law, and agriculture underwent sweeping changes, all anchored in Confucian principles that shaped governance, social hierarchies, and cultural norms. These ideals guided the emperor, his officials, and scholars, fostering duty, respect, and harmony. Confucian education moulded the elite, while filial piety, venerating elders and ancestors, defined family and societal roles, reinforcing gender and social structures.

Yet, the Daehan Empire’s aspirations were thwarted by external and internal forces. The Japanese Empire, with its imperial ambitions, tightened its grip, manipulating Daehan’s politics and economy. In 1905, the Eulsa Treaty reduced Daehan to a Japanese protectorate, a humiliating blow. Internal factionalism further weakened the empire. By 1910, Japan annexed the Korean Peninsula, extinguishing the Daehan Empire and ushering in a brutal colonial era that endured until 1945, marking a 113-year interregnum of foreign domination.

This saga reveals a profound truth: civilisations are not merely territories or thrones but ideas and values that persist through defiance and adaptation. Joseon’s devotion to Sojunghwa and the Daehan Empire’s fleeting revival of Confucian imperium underscore the resilience of a worldview that, even in defeat, refused to surrender its soul.