Chinese emperors guaranteed male successors by taking multiple wives, in some cases hundreds and even thousands. Women Shall Not Rule offers a fascinating history of imperial wives and concubines, especially in light of the greatest challenges to polygamous harmony--rivalry between women and their attempts to engage in politics. Besides ambitious empresses and concubines, these vivid stories of the imperial polygamous family are also populated with prolific emperors, wanton women, libertine men, cunning eunuchs, and bizarre cases of intrigue and scandal among rival wives.Keith McMahon, a leading expert on the history of gender in China, draws upon decades of research to describe the values and ideals of imperial polygamy and the ways in which it worked and did not work in real life. His rich sources are both historical and fictional, including poetic accounts and sensational stories told in pornographic detail. Displaying rare historical breadth, his lively and fascinating study will be invaluable as a comprehensive and authoritative resource for all readers interested in the domestic life of royal palaces across the world.
Contrary to my expectations, Women Shall Not Rule focuses less on the implications of its provocative title and more on the centuries of imperial harem drama involving Chinese emperors, their imperial wives, empress dowagers, eunuchs, and even male favorites from the Han to Liao periods. While McMahon provides a detailed account, the sheer number of names and the complex, intergenerational relationships between the figures make it difficult to keep track of who’s who. The conclusions at the end of each part come closest to addressing the book’s central theme—that women were historically deemed unfit to rule in China—but I found these parts dissapointingly brief, as I was most intrigued by the exploration of this specific question.
Additionally, McMahon’s strong emphasis on the drama of the inner realm risks overshadowing the political and socioeconomic advancements achieved in the broader imperial landscape. For example, while the Han dynasty made tangible progress in various areas, the imperial harem remains perpetually depicted as ensnared in a recurring cycles of jealousy, rivalry, decadence, and intrigue—a narrative that transcends historical timelines.
This raises questions about McMahon’s motivation in presenting insights into the resistance against female rulers in historical China. Why does his focus remain predominantly on the inner circle? Is it because the inner court, dominated by women, contrast starkly with the outer court, traditionally viewed as a male domain? A more holistic understanding could only be achieved if McMahon provided a balanced historical backdrop that discusses the achievements and struggles of both inner and outer circles. Unfortunately, this is an area where, in my opinion, his work falls short.
Take Wu Zetian of the Tang Dynasty as an example. Despite her significant contributions—her global influence, the expansion of international trade, the promotion of economic prosperity and stability, the discovery of new granary technology, and her role in advancing female empowerment and autonomy during her 50-year reign—these accomplishments are notably absent in McMahon’s narrative. Frustratingly, he devotes much of his effort to highlighting her “evil misdeeds” and “sexual misconducts,” echoing the biases of sexist ancient historians. This approach undermines Wu Zetian’s legacy as an efficient administrator and higly capable ruler. Had McMahon adoped a more balanced perspective, he could have successfully highlighted the concerted effort by the partriachy to suppress female rulership and restore normative and dominance.
There is an inherent irony in the role of women in ancient China: while their presence was confined to the inner court, those who sought to exert influence in the outer court were met with contempt by their male counterparts. The inner court, deemed inferior in status to the outer court—where state politics were conducted and dominated by men—reflects the rigid social hierarchy of the time: subjects submitted to emperors, sons to fathers, and women to men. Yet, the so-called “inferior” inner court held the power to make or break a dynasty, as the stability of a dynasty depended on the balance and harmony of both realms.
The inner could should therefore be regarded as an equal counterpart to the outer court, functioning as the “core” of the imperial institution. It sustained the continuity of the imperial bloodline and provided female talents whose political acumen could be leveraged to elevate the dynasty’s achievements. However, women’s values and relevance were narrowly tied to their ability to procreate, echoing modern parallels where women are often relegated to roles as “homemakers” or “baby factories.” This reductionist view persists despite the significant economic contribution women bring to a nation through their labor, underscoring the enduring stigma of inferiority imposed on women throughout history.