Emperor of Japan

by Donald Keene

  Why did Yoshihito behave so outrageously? Perhaps it was because those around him, fearing that scolding might bring on convulsions, had permitted him to have his way in everything.13 Yumoto sent in his resignation to Itō Hirobumi, the imperial household minister, but Itō persuaded him to remain at his post, saying that this constituted his duty as a loyal subject, that he would be offering up his life no less than a military man.

  The emperor was informed of his son’s capricious behavior in the classroom. Yumoto petitioned the emperor to have the prince call him “Yumoto sensei” and not leave his seat unless so directed by the teacher. The emperor commanded Yumoto to remain with the prince throughout the day, in the hopes of further influencing his conduct. He also sent chamberlains and women officials (and on occasion his own tutors) to Yumoto’s classroom to observe the instruction. When the emperor asked Yumoto why he did not follow the textbooks that Motoda had chosen for instructing the young, he replied that they were too lofty to be used for this purpose. Yumoto prepared a new textbook and the prince began to make rapid progress, relieving the emperor’s mind.14 Later that year, Itō announced that the emperor had decided that Yoshihito would attend the Gakushō-in along with children of the nobility.

  In September, the emperor, still worried about the prince’s education, appointed a senior official, Hijikata Hisamoto, to take charge. He accepted, with the proviso that no one must be allowed to interfere with his decisions. The emperor agreed and sent the chief chamberlain to inform Nakayama Yoshiko that henceforth her guidance would not be needed. Yumoto was also instructed to consult with Hijikata on all educational matters. Yoshiko seems to have resisted being deprived of responsibility for her grandson’s education. In October, Hijikata, obeying an imperial command, agreed to divide responsibility with Yoshiko; she would be in charge of matters concerned with the prince’s upbringing in the palace, including his Japanese-style clothes and his meals. Finally, as had long been planned, Yoshihito entered the Gakushō-in on September 19, 1887. He traveled to school every day and studied in the company of other boys, his desk alongside theirs.15 This was the first time an heir to the throne had received a public education.

  Toward the end of 1886, Nishimura Shigeki delivered three lectures on Japanese morality at Imperial University.16 Nishimura, formerly a member of the Meirokusha, had frequently delivered lectures on the West before the emperor and would continue to do so in the future, but these lectures on morality, later published as Nihon dōtoku ron (Essays on Japanese Morality) were anything but a summons to learn from the West.

  In later years, Nishimura recalled how government officials at that time imitated the legal system, customs, and etiquette of the West, and the mindless aping of such Western diversions as dance parties, costume balls, and tableaux vivants that took place in the hopes of winning the respect of foreigners. He contrasted this subservience with the age-old Japanese morality based on such conceptions as loyalty and filial piety, righteousness, bravery, a sense of shame, and so on and asked how these virtues could be abandoned. He declared that grief over this situation had impelled him to deliver the lectures.17

  The first lecture opened with a consideration of the differences between two systems of thought dealing with morality. The first he called “this-worldly teachings”; the second, “other-worldly teachings” (or religion). In the former category he placed Confucianism and Western philosophy; in the latter, Buddhism and Christianity. His sympathies were obviously with the former. In China, Confucianism was a native system of thought that had originated in remote antiquity. Buddhism, however, was no more than an imported religion and had never attained the influence of Confucianism. In Japan, however, both Confucianism and Buddhism had been imported. At first they were accepted by all classes of society; but in later times, although the lower classes continued to believe in Buddhism, extremely few of the middle and upper classes retained their faith. The Japanese therefore lacked a common morality shared by all classes; indeed, since the Restoration, all moral standards had disappeared.18

  Asia was now menaced by the European countries, each of which had staked out an area for colonization. The threatened Asian countries were desperately attempting to modernize. Nishimura commented, “Civilization and enlightenment are to be hoped for, but unless a country exists, there can be no civilization or enlightenment. Once a country has been lost, civilization and enlightenment are obviously impossible.” The crucial task for Japan was to preserve its independence and not permit any foreign country to trample on its dignity. But no matter how many warships or cannons a country possessed, if its people lacked morality, it would not be respected by other countries. History teaches us that the collapse of Rome was the result of the people’s corruption and loss of morality. Or consider the most lamentable instance in recent history, the case of Poland. The people were not as corrupt as the Romans, but they were so divided into factions that they did not attempt to preserve the unity of their country; as everyone knows, the country was partitioned into three.19 He went on to relate these generalizations to Japan:

  In Japan the three lower classes—the farmers, the artisans, and the merchants—have never been educated, and there is therefore no point in discussing either raising or lowering their morality; but the people of the samurai class and above have received from generations of their ancestors training in Confucianism. In addition, there is a special study in our country known as the Way of the Warrior (budō). These teachings can forge a man’s character in such a way that he will devote his every energy to the task of defending his country. But Confucianism, which since the Restoration has acquired the status of a state religion, has greatly lost its influence, and today nobody still mentions the Way of the Warrior or anything similar.20

  Nishimura expressed dismay over the loss of morality even among the samurai. They were eagerly turning to the West, forgetting that each of the countries of Europe and America followed a religion that preserved the morality of the people. He generalized:

  By nature most Japanese are basically quick and clever, but their thought is superficial, and they lack an awareness of the grand. They tend to echo other people’s views and have only a feeble conception of what it means to stand on their own. In recent years, observing the exactness of Western science and the strength and prosperity of those countries, they have been indiscriminately fascinated and do not know how to stand firm…. However, there are differences in human nature and in the cultural climate, and the learning of the West cannot be adopted without change in the East.21

  Nishimura advocated a return to the morality of Confucianism. He did not specify the variety of Confucianism he preferred, but his insistence on putting into practice the morality one has learned suggests the teachings of Wang Yangming. Nishimura did not, however, gloss over the failings of both Confucianism and Western philosophy. He recognized also that both Buddhism and Christianity possessed merits that were worthy of adoption. The essential task was to create a morality for modern Japan, and once it had been established, elements could be borrowed from other systems of thought.22

  The specific elements in Nishimura’s morality are hardly startling. He favored education and giving alms to the deserving poor. He favored investment in enterprises that would benefit the nation. On the negative side, he rebuked men for retiring at the early age of forty-five instead of continuing to contribute to society and contrasted the Japanese institution of the “retired master” (inkyo) with the long productive lives of people in the West. He disapproved of early marriage because children produced before their parents are fully mature are susceptible to illness, leading to physical weakness of the people as a whole and, because early marriages tend to result in numerous offspring, to family impoverishment. Finally, Nishimura disapproved of extravagance, particularly lavish expenditures of money for marriages and funerals.23

  It is hard to imagine anyone disagreeing with most of his recommendations, but the reaction to Nishimura’s lectures was not merely favorable but overwhe
lming. Those who had been trained in Confucianism—mainly men of the samurai class over forty years old—responded to the call from the past. Mori Arinori, the minister of education, who had been Nishimura’s associate in the Meirokusha and was known as an advocate of progress, was so impressed by Essays on Japanese Morality that he expressed the intention of adopting it as a text for middle schools and above.24 But Itō Hirobumi was enraged by the book, considering it libelous to the regime and a block to political progress. He sent for Mori and rebuked him for praising the book. After learning of Itō’s displeasure, Nishimura promised to make revisions, and he later deleted some criticisms of the government’s pro-Western policy, but he had already challenged the government’s utilitarianism. Nishimura’s book was the first expression of opposition to Itō’s policies, a forerunner of the ultranationalism that soon became prominent.

  One more event of 1886 requires mention, the sinking of the British freighter Normanton. The ship set sail from Yokohama for Kōbe on October 23. The next day, off Wakayama Prefecture, it struck a reef and broke up. Although the members of the British crew were saved, they made no effort to rescue the twenty-five Japanese passengers or the twelve Indian crew members, all of whom drowned. As soon as word of this disaster became known, there was a great outcry over what seemed to be a conspicuous example of racial prejudice. On November 5 the captain of the Normanton, John William Drake, was questioned at the British consulate in Kōbe but was acquitted of any misdemeanor.

  At first the Japanese leaders, at the time eagerly attempting to win the approbation of foreigners, did not protest, but so great was the clamor all over the country that it could not be ignored. The newspapers solicited funds for the families of the men lost on the Normanton, and speeches were delivered to crowds already angry over the flagrant display of white supremacy. Finally, the government formally asked the British to try the captain. (Because of extraterritoriality, Japan was unable to intervene.) A trial took place on December 8 at the British consulate in Yokohama. Captain Drake was found guilty of criminal negligence and sentenced to three months’ imprisonment. The other members of the British crew were acquitted.25 However, the Normanton incident continued to live in the memories in the Japanese, not least because of a song composed about the disaster.26

  Although some Japanese who were versed in maritime law thought that the decision was just, the mild punishment meted out to Drake failed to satisfy most Japanese.27 The Normanton incident, along with Nishimura’s lectures on Japanese morality, represented a defection from Rokumeikan-style adulation of foreigners and set the stage for more serious attacks in the following year.

  The New Year ceremonies at the beginning of 1887 followed tradition in all but one respect: the empress wore a formal Western gown when accepting congratulations from members of the court, and this became her normal costume for such occasions. The rumblings of discontent over the Normanton affair seem not to have reached the court, where the exchange of presents with foreign royalty continued unabated.28 The construction of a new palace, long delayed, was finally under way, but financial problems had arisen, threatening completion.

  On January 25 the emperor and empress set out for Kyōto in order to participate in observances on January 30 at the tomb of Emperor Kōmei, who had died twenty years earlier.29 The most noteworthy aspect of this journey was the empress’s presence. Otherwise, the trip to Kyōto and the visits to schools and famous places closely resembled the emperor’s previous journeys. The royal couple remained in Kyōto until February 21.

  They returned to Tōkyō on February 24 and resumed their usual activities. The empress visited schools, including an industrial college and the army officers school.30 In April she joined her husband in observing maneuvers of the Household Guards regiment. Her role in official functions—even military maneuvers—had become indispensable.

  In March 1887 the empress presented the Peeresses’ School (Kazoku jogakkō) with two poems of an inspirational nature. The first opened:

  Even a diamond

  If you polish it

  Will shine all the brighter.

  People too

  Study so that later on

  Their true qualities will appear.31

  The poems were later set to music and became the school song of the peeresses. The earnest moral tone suggests the Protestant hymns of the same period, but the pro-Western leaders of the government, unaffected by such calls for virtue, continued to frequent the Rokumeikan,32 hoping that their affability and mastery of Western etiquette would gain for Japan the friendship and respect of the advanced countries of the West. They were convinced that the best way to overcome Japan’s financial and military weakness and to preserve its independence was by proving that Japan was a modern nation that shared the same culture as the Europeans. To this end, they would dress and eat like Europeans and rid their society of its antiquated aspects. Some were willing to adopt not only the Western legal system but also Christianity and the use of English as the national language; others (in order to improve the Japanese physique) were ready to take European wives.33

  The contrast between the outpouring of wealth for festivities at the Rokumeikan and the poverty in which the vast majority of the population lived aroused opposition. Motoda Nagazane, a staunch Confucianist, repeatedly attempted to see Itō in order to communicate his unhappiness over the extravagant construction of Western-style palaces and the lavish parties, but Itō was always too busy to see him. In May 1887 Katsu Kaishō issued a statement in twenty-one articles condemning the destruction of native Japanese virtues in the frantic effort to promote the adoption of European culture. In the late Tokugawa era, Kaishō had studied Dutch with the aim of acquiring a knowledge of navigation and naval gunnery, and he had served as the captain of the Kanrin maru, the first Japanese ship to cross the Pacific Ocean. He was certainly not a hidebound Confucianist, but he, no less than Motoda, was outraged by the effects of pro-Western policies on Japanese society, which were lowering moral standards by the conspicuous waste of wealth.

  In the meantime, on April 22, 1887, in its twenty-sixth session, the Treaty Revision Conference decided to offer extreme concessions to the foreigners in order to obtain the abolition of extraterritoriality. They agreed that within two years after the exchange of documents of ratification of new treaties, all of Japan would be opened to foreigners. Rights and privileges enjoyed by Japanese citizens would be extended to resident foreigners. Within two years, the Japanese legal system would conform in every respect to practices in the West. All laws would be translated into English (the translations would be considered the original texts) and sent to foreign governments within sixteen months. Consular courts would continue to exist for another three years after opening the country to foreigners. Most judges passing on cases in which foreigners were involved would be of foreign nationality.34 The Japanese seemed ready to yield to any foreign demand, provided that their country was symbolically recognized as an equal by ending the hated extraterritoriality.

  Not all Japanese were willing to make such concessions. Tani Tateki (also known as Tani Kenjō, 1837–1899), the minister of agriculture and commerce, recently returned from Europe,35 was appalled by what he considered to be the moral laxness of the times, and he spoke his mind. Itō had heard rumors that Tani had praised Rousseau and other French exponents of people’s rights and attacked the government, and he interpreted this as meaning Tani had been infected by seditious radical ideas. The emperor, getting word of this, was profoundly disturbed that a cabinet minister should entertain such views. He had Sasaki Takayuki ask Tani face to face his political views.

  Tani, a believer in kokusui (the genius of the nation), was anything but an advocate of people’s rights, as he quickly convinced Sasaki. But in July, before resigning his post, he issued a stinging attack on the government’s policies. He demanded that efforts to obtain treaty revision be discontinued and that action be taken to correct the worsening moral situation. Like Nishimura, Tani was shocked by the decade
nce and extravagance of those addicted to dancing at the Rokumeikan, and he deplored the hardships the people were suffering because their money was being wasted in the attempt to Europeanize the country. He informed Itō of his belief that efforts to secure treaty revision should be speedily discontinued. Tani presented the same view to the cabinet, where it led to a bitter argument with Inoue Kaoru. But despite the hostility, Tani persisted, denouncing policies that, he said, were advocated without consideration of their lasting harm. Inoue and the others claimed that revising the treaties was necessary in order to end extraterritoriality, but, Tani asked, would it not be worse to allow foreigners to meddle in the country’s internal affairs? He accused the Foreign Ministry of acting in secret without consulting anyone else and asked that the opinions of all the other ministers be sought lest some grave error be committed.36

  Itō and Inoue were infuriated and quickly retorted that at a time when Japan was taking the advanced countries of the West as its model in all things, it was unavoidable that its laws be revised to accord with those of the West. Tani, realizing that his recommendations would not be accepted by the cabinet, decided to take a bold step. On July 20 he obtained an audience with the emperor at which he related in detail his reasons for opposing treaty revision and for believing that the corruption of the times must be corrected. He requested the emperor to ask the opinions of his advisers as to whether treaty revision was desirable, suggesting in particular that Kuroda Kiyotaka, who had recently returned from Europe, be consulted. The emperor listened attentively but made no comment. Tani withdrew and immediately afterward submitted his resignation.

  Tani’s request reveals that he was familiar with the views critical of the administration earlier expressed in discussions of men close to the emperor—including Sasaki Takayuki, Hijikata Hisamoto, and Motoda Nagazane. When Tani returned from abroad and they discovered that he shared their doubts about treaty revision, they decided to work with him and to search for others of like mind. Many influential men in the government (including Kuroda Kiyotaka) openly expressed opposition to the agreement for treaty revision.