After the Chino-Japanese War we, in conjunction with other Powers, compelled Japan to abandon Port Arthur and the Kuan-tung Peninsula, which she had just conquered. This, the first of the acts of Russia to excite Japan’s hostility, was also by far the most decisive. A new state of affairs now arose in the Far East which made our complete military unreadiness seem alarming, especially as the Pri-Amur was at that time practically defenceless against an offensive movement by the Japanese. Throughout the immense expanse of this military district there were only nineteen infantry battalions, and we were at once obliged to start increasing our troops in the Far East and turning Vladivostok into a naval fortress; but the most urgent question was that of establishing railway communication.
Before the Chino-Japanese War no one imagined that the Siberian line would be laid anywhere but through our own territory. The weakness displayed by China at that time, however, formed an inducement to carry it through Manchuria, and thus shorten the distance by over 300 miles. In vain did General Dukhovski, Governor-General and Commander of the troops in the Pri-Amur district, protest and point out the risks of such a course. He argued that, if the rail passed through Chinese territory, not only would it be of advantage to the Chinese instead of to the Russian settler population, but it would be insecure. His views did not find acceptance, and this great artery of communication—of incalculable importance to us—was laid through a foreign country. The temptation to give as far as possible an international importance to this line by attracting all trans-continental through-traffic proved too strong for the modest claim for consideration of the Pri-Amur district, though it was one that concerned us very deeply. General Dukhovski’s fears were soon justified. Part of the line was destroyed by a rising of the people in 1900, and our troops in Harbin were forced upon the defensive. We lost a whole year, wasted millions of money, and only too soon began to realize that, except a very limited quantity of the most perishable freight, no goods would be sent by rail. Sea transport was cheaper and safer. We were forced to abandon our dreams of international importance for the line, and to confess that it merely constituted a portion of the Siberian Railway, which, as it ran for 800 miles through a foreign country, would require special protection at great cost. Moreover, the Finance Minister’s estimate of the saving—£1,500,000—to be effected by taking the line through Manchuria, instead of through Siberia, proved entirely misleading, as the mileage cost of the line worked out to a much larger figure than that of any railway undertaking in Russia! Not only was all idea of the line’s international importance very quickly abandoned, but it soon became only too clear that its economic value, though important to the local Chinese population, would be very slight for Russia. Its _raison d’être_ must then have been mainly strategic. But, if built on strategic grounds, surely a route through our own territory would have been preferable? This unfortunate enterprise, which turned out so badly for Russia, was the first outward sign of an active policy which was to have such great results. The occupation of Port Arthur, the creation of Dalny, the construction of the southern branch of the line, the maintenance of a commercial fleet in the Far East, and our business enterprises in Korea, were all links in the chain which was to bind these distant tracts so securely to Russia.