After President Obama’s oh-so-low bow to the Emperor of Japan, I was relieved to see his visit to China come to an end without him feeling obliged to kowtow to the Chinese leadership.

The “kowtow,” for those unfamiliar with the ritual, involves kneeling three times from a standing position, and on each kneeling to touch one’s forehead to the ground.  In the old days, anyone calling on the emperor of China was expected to perform this ritual, including foreigners.  At least that was the rule until 1859, when the Chinese emperor encountered an envoy from America: a man possessed of democratic principles -- and stiffer knees.

John Elliott Ward (1814-1902) was a Georgian descended from Scottish Highlanders.  He was appointed minister to China by President Buchanan.  His mission was to deliver a letter from the president to the Chinese emperor, and also to exchange ratified copies of a trade agreement with the Chinese government.

In many respects, Ward was unsuited to the job.  He did not speak Chinese, and thus was unaware that the convoy that conducted him to the Chinese capital traveled under a banner that read, “Tribute Bearers from the United States.”

But on arriving in Peking, Ward more than made up for this inadvertent loss of face.  He wanted to deliver Buchanan’s letter to the emperor in person, but he refused to kowtow, as court etiquette demanded.  “I kneel only to God and woman,” he curtly informed his Chinese hosts.

The Chinese were taken aback.  For over a thousand years, the Arabs, the Dutch, the Russians, the Portuguese and even the British had bent the knee to the Son of Heaven, as the Chinese called their emperor.  Who was this upstart American to refuse?

Oriental subtlety was brought into play.  “Our rulers are equal,” argued the Chinese court officials, “and so are we as their ministers.  Now, as we kneel before the throne, if you do not, we become unequal, for you are raised above us.”

A clever argument, but Ward was not persuaded.  (He may not have been a career diplomat, but he was a good lawyer.)  “Not exactly so,” he countered.  “I represent a ruler equal in all respects to his majesty the emperor, and when I come before [the emperor] I can do nothing that my ruler would not himself do.  You are the officers and subjects of the emperor and must obey his orders if you serve him … I cannot degrade my country by taking such a posture.”

Hmmmmm.

More subtlety was applied.  If Ward had been accredited to the court of a European monarch, asked the Chinese, would he make a bow on being presented? 

Yes, replied Ward.

And how low would he bow to the Emperor of China?  As low as the emperor wished, he said.

The court officials, supposing that they were finally make progress, then hit on the happy notion of positioning a table between Ward and the emperor during the audience.  Ward would approach, bow low, and then lay the letter on the table for a court official to hand to the emperor after performing the kowtow.  As the table would be covered by a cloth that reached the floor, the emperor would not know that Ward had not conformed in all respects to court etiquette.

Ward, perhaps secretly amused, was ready to agree to this arrangement when the Chinese told him that he would have to bow low enough for his fingers to touch the ground.

This roused the lawyer in Ward’s American breast.  He had agreed, he said, to bow as low as the emperor wished, but he had said nothing about touching his fingers to the ground.

“But it is only three inches more!” urged the Chinese – in vain, as it turned out.  The American refused to budge.  A bow was a courtesy; touching his fingers to the ground was an abasement.

Ward never delivered President Buchanan’s letter to the emperor in person.  But his mission had far-reaching consequences, nonetheless.  After that episode, the Chinese never again demanded that any Western envoy perform the kowtow.

All it took was an American who would not compromise his nation’s honor – even by three inches.