Rulers of premodern empires obsessed about political control. The historical record is awash with descriptions of kings and emperors grappling with feudal aristocrats and bureaucratic administrators as they worked to curb political autonomy and further extend the command of the throne. Throughout the premodern world, from Zhou China to Tudor England, rulers moved to assert regulations, practices, and institutions to not only centralize and legitimize political and social authority, but also ensure that the crown maintained the ability to exercise control over and dictate orders to political actors tasked with running the empire. One of the key institutions in this endeavor was that of the eunuch.

Created by rulers of antiquity (Zhou, Persia, Assyria, Greece, Rome, Byzantine), the position of the eunuch was ambiguous by design. Needing a loyal class of people whose position was contingent upon the ruler and independent from other power bases or political classes, the ruler often (but not always) drew on castrated or emasculated males and put them to work in the inner court as personal servants of the imperial household. Eunuch tasks could range from domestic chores and household procurement, to political communications and military leadership. For the ruler, the importance of the eunuch position was that a eunuch could navigate the inner and outer courts, and facilitate the management of the political classes and affairs of the empire. Plato noted in the Alcibiades, for example, that eunuchs often brought up royal children, and in Persia they were holders of high court positions and controlled access to the king. As a sixteenth-century commentary on the Zhouli (The Rituals of Zhou) explained, “Women were in the inner quarters of the palace and could not go out. Men were in the outer palace and could not go in. Eunuchs could function in both places.”

Eunuchs were also charged with overseeing the women of the imperial household—namely, the dowager, empress, wives, and concubines of the ruler. Often stripped of their reproductive capacity, eunuchs could interact daily with imperial women without the threat of sullying the royal bloodline. In this way, the eunuch could mediate both the taboo space of the harem and the public space of the palace: they tended to the imperial women, kept up the palace, and served the personal and political needs of the emperor. In order to further guard against female conniving and eunuch conspiring, the Ottomans preferred African eunuchs, whose language and cultural differences were meant to form divisions deep enough to thwart collusion.

Such ambiguity of position and ready ability to penetrate court politics lead to eunuch corruption and the usurpation of power. Throughout history, if an ambitious and adroitly capable eunuch did not emerge, then eunuch factions undermined the bureaucracy and even the ruler. One need look no further than the example of imperial China. After the death of the first emperor Qin shihuang in 210 BCE, the eunuch Zhao Gao colluded with prime minister Li Si to kill the heir apparent and appoint a puppet. In the Later Han (25–220 CE), a eunuch faction overthrew the emperor and enthroned an emperor of their choosing; in the Tang (618–907), the eunuch Li Fugao allied with the empress and took control of all provincial appointments. The Ming (1368–1644) far surpassed previous dynasties, however, employing over 100,000 eunuchs (compared to the Tang's 3,000), which led to the rise of the infamous Wei Zhongxian, who usurped power, terrorized the bureaucracy, and established temples in his name. Similar tales and warnings dot the writings of Byzantine writers and commentators.

A comprehensive history of eunuchs in the political systems of empires remains to be written, and the institution still needs to be adequately theorized; but two new books on eunuchs in the Qing empire (1636–1912) shed light not only on the institution and practices, but also on the individuals who occupied the posts in late imperial China. Historians have long considered eunuchs in the Qing either insignificant and inconsequential at best, especially in the early and high Qing, or at worst corruptive and blameworthy for leading to the decay and collapse of the Qing. Both Dale and Kutcher offer much-needed corrections to these views and show instead the political tensions among Qing actors inherent in the political system; they highlight how eunuchs did not work to degrade and destroy court politics, as earlier historians have argued, but rather utilized and took advantage of the opportunities presented to them amidst shifting political practices and institutions.

Dale has set out to write a social history of eunuchs in the Qing. She is less concerned with the politics and position of eunuchs (although the issue cannot be avoided), and instead focuses on the lives and experiences of palace eunuchs, from the emasculation process (Qing eunuchs were all emasculated) to the rigors of daily life within the palace walls. Her aim “is to redirect scholarly gaze away from a small number of powerful eunuchs and onto the majority of palace eunuchs who never rose to the heights of eunuch power,” and in doing so to “explore the life experiences of this group of previously silent inhabitants of the palace” (4). The first experience of the individual who was to become a eunuch was the removal of his genitals, which was often done by a “knifer.” Drawing predominately on late nineteenth-century European publications, Dale outlines a procedure that began with an ice bath to numb the area, then the genitalia were wrapped in silk and excised in a single stroke. The severed organ was highly prized and often sold or rented out by the knifer to other eunuchs for use in burials or promotions.

The suffering did not end there, however. When the emasculated subject entered service of the emperor agony continued in different forms. Immediately upon gaining palace employment (which was not always a given) the eunuch had to undergo intensive training that included mastering forms of address and learning taboo characters. He needed to know how to receive orders, how to kneel in different ways under different circumstances, and how to carry items properly. If one failed in any of these aspects, he could be subject to abuse from superiors. Furthermore, eunuchs were paid poorly and were often hungry; they lived in close quarters, and numerous cases indicate frequent arguments and fights over menial domestic affairs, which could lead to punishment from superiors. When conditions got so bad, eunuchs absconded. They ran back to family or hid in temples, pretending to be monks. Some opted for death with a knife to their own throat or by hanging. In each instance, Dale finds that Qing eunuchs left service on account of hunger and harsh working conditions, and under a constant fear of being beaten or punished.

Although illuminating, Dale's account of Qing eunuchs is essentialist. She analyzes her subject as a universal category, generalizing the experience of a few from a particular time to present a picture of the world of the Chinese eunuch. Rich on detail, much of Inside the World of the Eunuch could be assigned to the ever-curious undergraduate captivated by the strange otherness of the emasculated premodern Chinese person. Every question that might be excitedly thrown at the hapless history professor is here answered: Was everything cut off? (Yes.) Did they sever it themselves? (Sometimes.) Could they have sex? (Apparently so.) What the book does not do, however, is talk about change over time—the late Qing eunuch of Dale's references is the eunuch of her consideration.

Humans and their societies are never static, however, and Kutcher shows that the Qing eunuch was subject to historical forces, just as everything else. In contrast to Dale, who offers a snapshot of Qing eunuchs, Kutcher sets the Qing practices and institution in historical motion, tracing the inception of the Manchus’ use of eunuchs in the mid seventeenth century, and charting the institution through the course of the Qing to its demise in the early twentieth century when the last emperor Puyi kicked them out of the palace (although by that time there were only two hundred left who hadn't run off or been killed). In this history, Kutcher shows not only how the eunuch institution transformed, but also how the life choices of eunuchs were shaped by changing imperial policy and shifting regulations.

Eunuch and Emperor examines the eunuch practices and policies of each period in the Qing and marks a major shift in the Qianlong era. When the Manchus occupied the imperial palace in Beijing to begin rule over China proper as the Qing dynasty in the mid-seventeenth century, rulers were confronted with the fact of the palace. Not only did they need to set up the imperial household and organize the imperial family to live in the inner quarters, but they also had to establish the operations and functions of the palace. The daily necessities of cooking and cleaning needed to be done, as did the procurement of supplies. In addition, palace and state rituals had to be conducted, which further required the supply of specialty ritual materials and instruments. Having undertaken these tasks in the Ming, the eunuchs were well positioned to provide the necessary organizational knowledge and practice. Both the Shunzhi and Kangxi emperors came to rely on them to undertake these tasks and provide expertise.

The Kangxi emperor further entrusted some of his eunuchs with political power. Despite his articulated reservations against eunuchs and frequent warnings to keep them from positions of power, he brought many into his confidence, seeking their advice and even delegating political powers. Kutcher points to two trusted eunuchs in particular, Liang Jiugong and Li Yu, both of whom were sent on missions to the provinces and used to convey messages to officials. Li Yu even served as the point of contact between the emperor and his son when the former led his expedition against Galdan. Kutcher further shows that these two eunuchs became increasingly involved in decision making on matters such as the conferring of honors, palace construction, and imperial household marriage. Two other trusted eunuchs, Chen Fu and Wei Zhu, were employed in diplomacy, representing and speaking for the emperor. The former handled the rites controversy and the latter helped navigate tensions with the Russian ambassador.

Wary of eunuch influence, especially after their role in the succession crisis (chapter 5), the Yongzheng emperor moved to contain them. He set up a system of ranks and introduced rules and reforms to regulate eunuch activity and influence. The new eunuch ranking system mirrored that of the administration, but it limited ranks available to eunuchs so that they did not resemble the outer court too closely and remained outside of the administrative bureaucracy. In this way, eunuchs could hold special eunuch ranks nine through four and were theoretically given incentives to perform well to be promoted. The Yongzheng emperor further set up aid for retirement and established a eunuch cemetery; he also improved eunuch salaries and used pay as a reward for the most loyal and hardworking.

Eager to curb eunuchs in politics, the Qianlong emperor reversed most of these advances. As Kutcher puts it, “Yongzheng's changes had allowed the arc of the Qing to drift slightly and yet significantly in the direction of eunuch power. Qianlong would have to shift it back” (144). Reading of the eunuch excesses in the Ming, the Qianlong emperor sought to limit their influence and curtail their ability to penetrate politics. He did this by banning them outright from the presence of the emperor, and prohibiting them from political and military service or activity. He further moved to reduce salaries and rice allotments and turned the ranking system from promotion incentives into a supervisory mechanism, whereby a hierarchy of eunuchs were appointed to see over each other. Although the Qianlong emperor liked to boast of his close watch over his eunuchs and his vigilance against eunuch excess, the reality was that he “established a system in which they were managed by proxy” (172).

Now barred from government and politics, eunuchs began to use the means given to them to empower themselves and carve out opportunities both within the palace and outside of it. The supervisory system meant that they were able to take leave and travel outside of the palace walls, which many leveraged to conduct business and cultivate relationships and networks in society at large. Moreover, the reduced salaries forced many to supplement their income in other ways, such as tips and fees for carting goods through the palace, as well as pawning and moneylending. The example of Li Dexi, a Daoguang era eunuch, speaks to this point. He obtained a lucrative position purchasing materials for the imperial household, the profits from which he used for moneylending. He then opened a plant nursery, run by his siblings and employing fifty workers (236).

Kutcher's sources are extensive and the cases and stories that he pulls from them are far richer than a review can do justice to. Cumulatively he demonstrates that eunuchs were neither a monolithic class that lusted for power, nor were they well controlled and closely managed, as the Qing emperors would have historians believe. Rather, they served the early emperors in their political dealings, and their later exclusion from politics in the Qianlong period opened up new opportunities for eunuchs to pursue individual interests and build outside networks. Some even lived outside the palace as commoners.

Given all the complications and concerns about eunuchs by their contemporaries, one wonders why rulers continued to employ them at all, especially in the later period, when their political role was diminished. Could not some other group or class of people undertake domestic chores, keep up the palace, and attend to imperial needs? Could not a different, more reliable group or individual be employed to carry goods around, make procurements, and interface between inner and outer courts? Indeed, why even bother to change this institution of eunuchs; why not get rid of it altogether? As Kutcher puts it, “Was it possible that Chinese rulers, taught to use history as a guide to governance and carefully warned about the dangers of eunuchs, still managed to fall for the same old tricks, time and again?” (5).

The evidence presented by the books under review here lends itself to the following conclusion: the organizational inertia of the Chinese political system made the eunuch an unavoidable fact of imperial political institutions. Late Ming writers further confirm this position: despite all their complaints, denunciations, and warnings they could not conceive of a government without eunuchs. Tang Zhen (1630–1704) came closest when he mentioned that the only way to eliminate eunuchs was to do so at the start of a new dynasty, when the new emperor and imperial family could learn to survive without a fleet of domestic and political servants (Kutcher, 41). If any new dynasty was to succeed in this endeavor, it would have been the Manchus. Yet they did not. Each Qing emperor found an expedient use for eunuchs, who served his political and material needs, whether it be asserting authority and imperial legitimacy, managing palace affairs, or controlling his administrative officials. The fact of the position of the eunuch was too established to easily abolish altogether. The next best option for the ruler, it seems, was to shape the institution to their immediate political needs. The policies and their consequences have here been illuminated by these two fine histories.