To the extent that George V strengthened Hirohito in the belief that an emperor should have his own political judgments independent of his ministers, George’s “lessons” had nothing to do with “constitutional monarchy.” They were also incompatible with the spirit of Taish democracy, which at that time sought to reduce the emperor’s political powers and turn him into a symbolic figurehead. If George really was Hirohito’s role model, as was later claimed, then the lessons he learned from George could not have led him to become a true constitutional monarch.75 Given the profound differences between the British and Japanese variants of constitutional monarchy, that is hardly surprising. In the pre–World War II Japanese imperial system, politics, religion, and military command were inseparably connected, the emperor had dictatorial authority and vast powers. In military affairs he did not require the advice of any minister of state, and he was expected to rule in order for the system to function properly. The British model was entirely different.
The most important instruction Hirohito and his entourage received from their observations of George V concerned public relations and the use of large-scale ceremonies and court rituals to popularize monarchy and strengthen nationalism.76 George V had saved the Germanic British monarchy from destruction at the hands of the British people by abruptly Anglicizing it during World War I, when “people were calling for the abdication of the ‘German King.’” By changing the Germanic surname of the royal house and family to Windsor and inventing the “ancient” ceremonial monarchy, George V “made the Royal Family seem timeless and firmly rooted in the moral landscape, enabling them to shield so effectively the system of class privilege.”77 Hirohito and his staff were not as innovative as King George V, but they did take notice of George’s fine sense of public relations in the new age of mass media, and of his skillful use of ritual as a strategy for perpetuating the political influence of the monarchy.
Apart from teaching him the real lessons of George V, the Western tour emboldened Hirohito to make a significant disclosure of character to unnamed members of his entourage. According to the unpublished memoirs of his military aide, Nara, shortly after Hirohito returned, he confessed to his disbelief in the divinity of his father and his imperial ancestors. In Nara’s words it seemed as though:
the very rational-minded prince does not believe that the ancestors of the imperial house are truly gods nor that the present emperor is a living deity [arahitogami]. I once heard that he divulged the thought that we ought to maintain the status quo, keeping the kokutai as it is; but he seems to think that it is too much to completely separate the emperor as a god from the nation. He thinks it would be best to maintain the imperial house [along British lines] and that the relationship between the state and the people should be that [in which] the monarch “reigns but does not rule.”78
Nara completed his memoirs in late 1956, a decade after Hirohito’s postwar disavowal of his divinity. Many defenders of the throne were still trying to whitewash the problem of Hirohito’s unacknowledged war responsibility and obscure the fact that he had previously been regarded as an object of religious worship. If Nara was correctly reporting Hirohito’s moment of candor, then Hirohito, at age twenty, made three noteworthy points:
He declared that he no longer believed his ancestors were living gods or that his own father was a living deity—something for which he could hardly be blamed. Second, and nevertheless, he affirmed the right of the state to impose on ordinary Japanese the belief that “the ancestors of the imperial house are truly gods and that the present emperor is a living deity.” On the other hand, rather than defend what he now seemed to believe, or work to change the kokutai, which inhibited objective discussion of Japanese history, he felt he should accept the deceit that was expected of him and keep the kokutai just “as it is.” His pragmatic, voluntary subordination of his own mind to the precepts of the imperial system forecast his (and his entourage’s) active acceptance of the heightened cult of emperor worship that arose as a destroyer of careers in the mid-and late 1930s. The public actions of this prince would never be governed by his own private standards of goodness, morality, and integrity.
Third, by stating his preference for a British-style relationship between the throne and the nation, Hirohito inadvertently challenged an operative principle of the Japanese monarchy. In the process he revealed how unready he still was to play the role of emperor. For if the system of civil and military relations under the Meiji constitution was to function smoothly, with the imperial house as the one effective force for integrating state and nation, civil government and military affairs, then the emperor really had to exercise his enormous—indeed dictatorial—political and military authority. Moreover, prewar Japanese nationalism also demanded a real monarch who ruled, not a nominal one who merely reigned.
Keenly aware of these imperatives, and of the crown prince’s impressionable nature and idealistic sentiments, Nara implied that Hirohito’s confession of disbelief was not so serious as it might seem. The prince was merely reflecting the mood of those around him. He was not really uncomfortable in his unbelief. In fact, rather than expressing deeply held convictions, he was succumbing to thinking that had “flared up suddenly all over the world after the Great European War” and filled Japan. In this Hirohito was not alone, for, as Nara continued:
Even the genr—Yamagata and Saionji in particular—were greatly tinged by the new thinking. This mood existed among a fairly large number of young officials in the Imperial Household Ministry and Saionji [Hachir], Futara [Yoshinori], and Matsudaira [Yoshitami] apparently were in the vanguard. I can see the strong influence of these young Imperial Household officials who, after having been influenced by the genr Saionji and others, passed their thoughts to the Crown Prince…. The right way to maintain the security and peace of the Imperial House is to have it gradually draw close to the nation while holding to the existing concept of the kokutai. I realize that most officials of the Imperial Household Ministry feel as I do. But…since the Imperial House of Japan is different from England, we must naturally refrain from saying such things as, “The monarch reigns but does not rule.” As for the concept of the kokutai, I firmly believe nothing has changed from the way it was before. Therefore I shall always bear in mind the crown prince’s predicament, and whenever there is an opportunity I will try to create an environment in which he can relax.79
Young Hirohito’s “predicament”—his personal discomfort in early manhood with the attribution of divinity to him and his ancestors—clearly should not be exaggerated. At some level of mental awareness he had to believe in the myth of divinity in order to act as the chief priest of Shinto. After a brief period of doubt during the 1920s, he submitted to the party line, overcame his youthful idealism, and moderated his initial enthusiasm for court reform. Eventually, Hirohito learned to reconcile skepticism about his own personal divinity with belief in the bansei ikkei myth—the idea, enshrined in the Meiji constitution, that he embodied a timeless, genealogical line of sovereign emperors, descended through the male line, and “unbroken” from the age of the gods. The myth of the imperial regalia—the idea that his possession of the regalia legitimized his authority and preserved his family—presented an equally vexatious problem, and one that could be solved the same way. Hirohito’s piety could be seen in the seriousness with which he later applied himself to performing Shinto rites at court and “reporting” important affairs of state to the gods. But the main modes in which it expressed itself were his dedication to the cults of imperial ancestor worship and Ise Shrine worship.
By the time Hirohito became emperor, he had grasped the utilitarian value of myths and clung to them as to other notions of statecraft. Whenever convenient he used such myths to rationalize his own behavior, to buttress the power of the imperial court vis-à-vis other elites in the ruling bloc, and to position himself outside political and secular responsibility. At the same time the more Hirohito lived the role of “sacred and direct” monarch, the more he came to re
ly on religious belief as a mechanism of power as well as a source of strength under trying conditions.
VI
On November 4, 1921, two months after Hirohito returned from Europe, a nineteen-year-old railway switchman, one Nakaoka Konichi, stabbed Prime Minister Hara to death. The assassin was alleged to have been the grandson of a Meiji-era loyalist from the former domain of Tosa. His motivations remain obscure but appear to have been connected mainly with Hara’s assumption, a few weeks earlier, of the duties of navy minister while the incumbent, Adm. Kat Tomosabur, was in Washington, Hara’s defense of Yamagata, and his Seiykai cabinet’s decision to send the crown prince to visit the European heads of state.80 The public downfall of Yamagata, followed by Hara’s assassination, demonstrated the enormous destructive power that could be generated whenever an issue involving the imperial house became a focal point of politics. With Hara gone and Makino (assisted by Sekiya and counseled from afar by Saionji) in control of palace affairs, the monarchy stood poised to enter a period of growing independence from the cabinet.
The next day, while the press was inadvertently invoking sympathy for the killer by focusing on his “indignation” at the “corruption of the times,” Imperial House Minister Makino informed Empress Sadako of Hara’s death. Anxiety swept over her as she tearfully told Makino that Hara was “such a rare person. I always wondered how he kept his balance and never failed to smile even when he had the weight of so many problems on his shoulders.”81 She sent an envoy to Hara’s burial in Morioka, Iwate prefecture. But it was the plight of her husband, Emperor Yoshihito, straining just to rubber-stamp documents and unable to comprehend what was happening around him, that most unnerved her. It was his worsening condition, combined with the political crisis produced by Hara’s death, that now hastened the establishment of a regency.
Concurrently the genr Matsukata and Saionji decided that the rump Hara cabinet could not afford to resign just when it was preparing for an important international conference of the leading Pacific powers, scheduled to open later that month in Washington, D.C. Without bothering to consult Emperor Yoshihito, they asked Finance Minister Takahashi Korekiyo to assume the post of prime minister.
On November 25, 1921, Hirohito became regent for his father. As he assumed the duties of emperor, he already knew he was going to marry Nagako and be the monarch that Meiji had envisioned in the constitution. He may also have believed that it was his obligation to compensate for his father’s inadequacies by doing all that was required to preserve the authority of the throne and defend the empire. These important aspirations depended on him gaining greater freedom of action, however. Given his youth, his peculiar upbringing, the respect he accorded the elders who constantly surrounded him, and the weight of court tradition, this would not be easy.
PART 2
THE POLITICS OF GOOD INTENTIONS, 1922–1930
4
THE REGENCY AND THE CRISIS OF TAISH DEMOCRACY
When Hirohito became regent, in November 1921, the government had already begun promoting the image of an energetic, robust crown prince, capable of going on field maneuvers with the army, and splendidly suited to becoming the supreme commander of the imperial forces.1 Through the mass media it continued to validate the image of the crown prince in constant motion, meeting with government officials and foreign dignitaries, convening the Diet, traveling to different parts of the homeland for military reviews and maneuvers, doing staff duty at army and navy headquarters, and touring the colonies. In 1922 Hirohito was indeed trying (with mixed success) to settle into the routine being laid out for him by his new entourage, while continuing to imagine that he could make the customs of the court comport more with what he had seen in Europe. But he was spending most of his time exercising, riding, and studying French.
Aware of how worried the genr and government leaders were about his inexperience and what seemed to them excessively high spirits, the elderly Hirata Tsuke (appointed lord keeper of the privy seal the previous year) and Imperial Household Minister Makino (who formally assumed that post on March 20, 1925) urged the prince to work harder. To carry out the duties of regent, they told him he had to continue his education, with particular emphasis on developing the proper imperial demeanor and gravity of expression, and to gain a better understanding of political, economic, and military affairs.
The initial Hirata-Makino study plan to develop Hirohito’s interest in governmental affairs required his attendance at roundtable conferences of the high palace officials. Afterward he was to submit to questions to see if he had grasped the issues discussed. This technique proved unworkable. Hirohito was simply not interested in what was being taught, and Hirota’s health was failing. Too ill to devote himself to training the regent, Hirota increasingly absented himself. Toward the end of 1922 Makino stepped in to advise Hirohito on the written and unwritten rules of the monarchy, and on political affairs.
Meanwhile the mood at court began to change during 1922 as senior palace officials reacted to the breakdown of domestic cooperation and elite consensus. Disagreements among the ruling elites had surfaced during World War I about foreign and domestic policies, and had been papered over by the establishment of the Foreign Policy Research Council, which lasted from 1917 to early 1922. During that time the parties widened their electoral base and looked for ways to extend their influence to the colonies, up to now the special bailiwick of the army. Political leaders like Takahashi of the Seiykai believed, as Hara Kei had before him, that in order to flourish economically Japan had to adopt policies that appeased American interests. The major arms reduction obligations that the government had recently assumed under the Washington treaties were in line with Takahashi’s views. But right-wing groups and some military leaders railed against the Washington treaties. Hirohito’s chief aide-de-camp, Lieutenant General Nara, noted in his memoirs of this period: “We have been wearing civilian clothes such as swallow-tailed coats and morning clothes out of consideration for the regent ever since his European tour. Now, however, we have begun to consider the mood of the public. In early November 1922, I conferred with Chinda and tried as much as possible to wear military uniforms, but did not say anything to the regent.”2
I
Over the next few years a better system of instruction was put into effect, and Hirohito began listening to lectures, two to three hours a day, on any and all subjects that Makino, Kawai, Nara, and he himself considered useful. This in itself was highly unusual. Only since the Meiji period had the imperial court operated on the assumption that the reigning monarch, though born to his role in life, needed to be continually in training to rule. Just by means of daily study, organized and closely supervised by high officials of the Imperial Household Ministry, the monarch strengthened his skills, polished his virtues, and corrected his intellectual and physical shortcomings. Special court pedagogues, admirals, generals, diplomats returning from service abroad, and members of the titled peerage were employed for this purpose.
Makino believed, as did the “faculty” he put together, that ample historical precedent existed for officials serving at court to see themselves as part of an organization committed to “forming” the monarch through lifetime learning. In the imaginations of both Makino and Hirohito the classic figure who had ascended the throne as a helpless, uneducated teenager, and afterward mastered the art of ruling through the discipline of study, was Meiji, a man who disliked studying. Meiji furnished the specifications and was supposed to be proof of what miracles court advisers could perform by continuously cuing the monarch and by an exhortatory approach that responded to his psychological needs.
During the regency Hirohito learned how, throughout World War I, the lord keeper of the privy seal and the imperial household minister had worked with the genr to restrain his father from interfering in political affairs. He came to see how important it was to prevent cabinets headed by political party leaders from gaining control of the court. He witnessed the practice of reducing the sphere of imperial assent to the
smallest possible extent, so that neither his father the emperor nor he himself would need to express the “imperial will.” He also saw how weak the political influence of palace officials was compared with the representatives of other advisory organs of the throne. Youthful, inexperienced Hirohito listened and learned while his entourage encouraged him to defend more explicitly his imperial prerogatives, which seemed threatened by the rise of party cabinets. As his desire grew to become a political actor and to retrieve the lost powers of the throne, so did the influence of Makino and the others who advised and assisted him while standing entirely outside the constitutional structure. They too believed that by exercising influence on Hirohito they could reestablish the monarchy on a stronger, independent basis.
At the start of the regency, three princes—Inoue Katsunosuke, the grand master of ceremonies, Kuj Michizane, the chief ritualist, and Saionji Hachir, the genr’s adopted son who served on the Board of Ceremonies—began training Hirohito in court rituals, a subject his mother was keenly intent that he master. Meanwhile Makino and other members of the entourage focused on setting up an ambitious program of imperial lectures so that Hirohito could continue his studies at a more advanced level.3 Four Tokyo University professors were recruited to deliver “regular lectures.” These were printed, and portions were given to Hirohito ahead of time, on a daily or weekly basis according to a fixed schedule.4 Constitutional scholar Shimizu Tru, historian Mikami Sanji, economist Yamazaki Kakujir, and international law specialist Tachi Sakutar delivered the lectures.5 Because these four were teachers of the emperor but also expert consultants for Makino, Kawai, and other key members of the entourage, the influence of their ideas is immeasurable.
Hirohito and the Making of Modern Japan Page 14