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A Modern History ofJapan:
From Tokugawa Timesto the Present

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ANDREW GORDONOXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

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A MODER N HISTO RY OFJAPANA MODERN HISTORY OF
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JAPAN

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From Tokugawa Timesto the Present

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ANDREW GORDON
Harvard University

New York
OxfordOXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
2003

Oxford University Press
OxfordNew York
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Kuala Lumpur Madrid Melbourne Mexico City Mumbai Nairobi
São Paulo Shanghai Singapore Taipei Tokyo Toronto
and an associated company in Berlin

Copyright © 2003 by Oxford University Press, Inc.

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Published by Oxford University Press, Inc.
198 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016
http://www.oup-usa.org

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Oxford is a registered trademark of Oxford University Press

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by anymeans, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,
without the prior permission of Oxford University Press.

olleLibrary of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

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DS881.9 .G66 2003
952—dc21

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Gordon, Andrew, 1952–
A modern history of Japan: from Tokugawa times to the present / Andrew Gordon.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 0-19-511060-9 (cloth)—ISBN 0-19-511061-7 (pbk.)
1. Japan—History—1868– 2. Japan—History—Tokugawa period, 1600–1868. I. Title.

Printing number: 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Printed in the United States of America
on acid-free paper

2002070916

Contents

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Maps, Tables, and Figures ix
Preface xi
Introduction: Enduring Imprints of the Longer Past

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PART 1. CRISIS OF THE TOKUGAWA REGIME

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1. The Tokugawa Polity 9
Uniﬁcation 9
The Tokugawa Political Settlements 11
The Daimyō 13
The Imperial Institution 14
The Samurai 14
Villagers and City-Dwellers 15
The Margins of the Japanese and Japan 16

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2. Social and Economic Transformations 20
The Seventeenth-Century Boom 20
Riddles of Stagnation and Vitality 27
3. The Intellectual World of Late Tokugawa 34
Ideological Foundations of the Tokugawa Regime 34
Cultural Diversity and Contradictions 37
Reform, Critiques, and Insurgent Ideas 42
4. The Overthrow of the Tokugawa 46
The Western Powers and the Unequal Treaties 46
The Crumbling of Tokugawa Rule 50
Politics of Terror and Accommodation 54
Bakufu Revival, the Satsuma-Chōshū Insurgency, and Domestic Unrest
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vi

CONTENTSPART 2. MODERN REVOLUTION, 1868–1905
5. The Samurai Revolution 61
Programs of Nationalist Revolution 62
Political Uniﬁcation and Central Bureaucracy 63
Eliminating the Status System 64
The Conscript Army 66
Compulsory Education 67
The Monarch at the Center 68
Building a Rich Country 70
Stances toward the World 73

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6. Participation and Protest 77
Political Discourse and Contention 78
Movement for Freedom and People’s Rights 80
Samurai Rebellions, Peasant Uprisings, and New Religions 85
Participation for Women 88
Treaty Revision and Domestic Politics 91
The Meiji Constitution 92

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7. Social, Economic, and Cultural Transformations 94
Landlords and Tenants 94
Industrial Revolution 96
The Work Force and Labor Conditions 100
Spread of Mass and Higher Education 105
Culture and Religion 108

AryaAfﬁrmations of Japanese Identity and Destiny 111
8. Empire and Domestic Order 115
The Trajectory to Empire 115
Contexts of Empire, Capitalism, and Nation-Building 123
The Turbulent World of Diet Politics 126
The Era of Popular Protest 131
Engineering Nationalism 136

PART 3. IMPERIAL JAPAN FROM ASCENDANCE TO ASHES
9. Economy and Society 139
Wartime Boom and Postwar Bust 139
Landlords, Tenants, and Rural Life 144

viiContents
City Life: Middle and Working Classes 148
Cultural Responses to Social Change 154
10. Democracy and Empire between the World Wars 161
The Emergence of Party Cabinets 162
The Structure of Parliamentary Government 165
Ideological Challenges 167
Strategies of Imperial Democratic Rule 169
Japan, Asia, and the Western Powers 173

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11. The Depression Crisis and Responses 182
Economic and Social Crisis 182
Breaking the Impasse: New Departures Abroad 186
Toward a New Social and Economic Order 192
Toward a New Political Order 196

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12. Japan in Wartime 204
Wider War in China 204
Toward Pearl Harbor 207
The Paciﬁc War 209

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Mobilizing for Total War 212
Living in the Shadow of War 217
Ending the War 221
Burdens and Legacies of War 224

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13. Occupied Japan: New Departures and Durable Structures 226
Bearing the Unbearable 226
The American Agenda: Demilitarize and Democratize 229
Japanese Responses 234
The Reverse Course 238
Toward Recovery and Independence: Another Unequal Treaty? 240
PART 4. POSTWAR AND CONTEMPORARY JAPAN, 1952–2000
14. Economic and Social Transformations 245
The Postwar “Economic Miracle” 245
Transwar Patterns of Community, Family, School, and Work 251
Shared Experiences and Standardized Lifeways of the Postwar Era
Differences Enduring and Realigned 259
Managing Social Stability and Change 262
Images and Ideologies of Social Stability and Change 264

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viii

CONTENTS

15. Political Struggles and Settlements of the High-Growth Era 270
Political Struggles 270
The Politics of Accommodation 279
Global Connections: Oil Crisis and the End of High Growth 287
16. Global Power in a Polarized World: Japan in the 1980s 291
New Roles in the World and New Tensions 291
Economy: Thriving through the Oil Crises 298
Politics: The Conservative Heyday 301
Society and Culture in the Exuberant Eighties 304
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17. Beyond the Postwar Era 310
The End of Shōwa and the Transformation of the Symbol Monarchy
The End of LDP Hegemony 312
The Economic Bubble Bursts 314
The Japanese Disease at Century’s End? 320

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Issues for the Future 328

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333
Appendix A. Prime Ministers of Japan, 1885–2000
Appendix B. Vote Totals and Seats by Party, 1945–2000 Lower House
Elections335
Notes 345
Select Bibliography 363
Index 371

Maps, Tables, and Figures

Maps

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Tokugawa Japan 47
The Japanese Empire, 1895–1939 191
War in the Paciﬁc 205
Japan Today 296

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TablesFigures
14.1
14.2
16.1
17.1
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2.1 Major Cities circa 1720 21
2.2 Peasant Protests, 1600–1867 31
7.1 Labor Force Numbers, Early Twentieth Century 100
8.1 Riots in Tokyo, 1905–18 132
9.1 Core Subsidiaries in the Mitsui and Mitsubishi Combines at War’s End
10.1 Party Cabinets 1918–32 164
14.1 Nominal GNP of Five Major Nations, 1951–80 248
14.2 Equality of Access to Japanese Higher Education, 1961–74 255
16.1 Real GNP Growth of Major Economies in 1980s 299

Real GNP and Capital Formation, 1951–76 247
Rise of Middle-Class Consciousness 268
United States–Japan Trade Balance, 1963–79 292
Real GNP Growth in Japan, 1983–99 316
Real GDP Growth of Major Economies, 1999 326

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This page intentionally left blankPreface

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The experience of people in Japan over the past two centuries is a fascinating andfast-paced story of the changes of modern times. The main body of this text covers
Japanese history from approximately 1800—the last decades of rule by the militarylords (or shogun) of the Tokugawa family—to the end of the twentieth century.
These were centuries of extraordinary transformation worldwide. The point of
departure, the years around 1800, marks an exceptional moment in world history as
well as the early days of a profound, and related, transformation in Japan. The in­dustrial revolution in Britain dramatically changed the balance of global economic
and military power. Political revolutions in France and elsewhere gave birth to mod­ern nation-states and modern nationalism, spreading not only new ideas about what
was just and possible for human societies but also new forms of domination aroundthe globe. This text begins by examining the intersection of these global shiftswith a developing crisis in Japan’s political and social order under the Tokugawa
rulers.
In Part 2 we turn to Japan’s modern revolution and the astonishing transformationsof the late 1800s. This was the Meiji era, which took its name from the emperor
installed in 1868. During the Meiji reign, Japan shifted swiftly and surprisingly froma semicolonized status to the position of an imperialist power. Part 3 examines Japan’s
imperial era, beginning with the nation’s rise to global power and ending with thedevastating experience of World War II and its aftermath. We conclude by investigating
the postwar history of contemporary Japan and the issues facing people in Japan, andaround the world, today.

THEMES OF CONNECTION AND MODERN EXPERIENCEThis book’s title signals the importance of two themes: modernity and connectivity.
A more typical title for a work such as this would be Modern Japanese History. Sucha title would suggest that the Japanese-ness of the story is central. It would point
readers to a peculiarly “Japanese” story that happened to unfold in an era we call“modern.” This book is called A Modern History of Japan in order to shift the balance
between Japanese-ness and modernity. It tells a peculiarly “modern” story as it un­
folded in a place we call Japan.
In other words, the modern history of Japan has been inseparable from a larger
modern history of the world. For this reason, a central theme of this book must beconnectivity. Sometimes for better and sometimes for worse, ideas, events, material
goods, and resources from abroad have inﬂuenced experiences in Japan profoundly,
xi

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P R E FA C E

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and vice versa. In this dynamic process, people in Japan have shared much with people
elsewhere. This theme will be clear as we examine the topics of political, economic
and social, and cultural history in the following chapters.
Although the crisis of the Tokugawa regime had internal causes, the collapse of
Tokugawa rule was catalyzed by a changing international environment. A new groupof leaders improvised a program of nation-building that reﬂected their understandingof the sources of Euro-American military and economic power. Their efforts proceeded
in ﬁts and starts, amid opposition and controversy. But their modernizing projects hadmuch impact. From this time forward, the character of the nation-state became acentral issue in modern history in Japan, as it did the world over, and struggles over
how to organize political life are central topics of this book. These contests concerned
ideas and institutions that were the focus of modern political life worldwide: consti­
tutions and parliament, monarchy and democracy, rights for women as well as men,nationalism, imperialism, and the role of the military. We give attention to both thepolicies imposed by rulers and the political actions of ordinary people that inﬂuenced
these policies.
The rise of capitalism is a related dimension of the modernizing project of thenineteenth and twentieth centuries in Japan, as around the world. The text examines
the roles of both government and private citizens and the interactions of working
people with managers. Relations between social classes, between men and women atwork and in the family, and between farmers and city-dwellers were complex andconsequential in Japan as elsewhere. Calls for harmony were frequent and sometimes
effective, but conﬂict was frequent and often intense, and we pay close attention tosuch conﬂicts.
Conﬂict among nations and those aspiring to nationhood has been a third dimen­sion of modern world history. Japan’s regional and global role has been remarkablefor its variety and above all for its devastating impact in the ﬁrst half of the twentiethcentury. Japan was a dependent semicolony dominated by Western powers from the1850s through the 1880s. The new nation became a colonial power almost equal to
the Western powers by 1905. It turned to imperialist expansion and a war seeking
hegemony over all of Asia in the 1930s and 1940s, with tragic consequences. It has
since been a paciﬁst and passive nation in global politics. These contentious andchanging relations among Japan, Asia, and the West are a major focus of the chapters
to follow.
Diversity in the detailed texture of modern history is the other side of the coinof connectivity. The history of any place, Japan included, offers variations on thethemes of wider world history. If connections and global interactions are central
themes of modern history in Japan, it is also undeniable that some particular charac­
teristics marked the thought and behavior of Japanese people. While this book high­lights the shared experiences of modern times in Japan and elsewhere, it also identiﬁes
some experiences that made Japan distinctive. For example, particular characteristicsof the samurai ruling class of the Tokugawa era shaped the changes that took placein the modernizing drive of the late nineteenth century. Another distinctive feature ofJapan’s modern history has been the powerful role of the Japanese state. The govern­
ment has consistently sought to control the messy process of social and economicchange, including relations among social classes and between men and women. Its

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Preface

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actions sometimes provoked unintended consequences, but they were hardly ever
unimportant.
It is important to recognize such particular features of modern history in Japan.
It is even more crucial for scholars and students not to view Japan’s history as uniquely
unique or exotic. This pitfall exists partly because people in Japan have themselves
been preoccupied, and sometimes obsessed, with deﬁning and preserving somethingcalled “Japanese-ness.” This has been the case at least from the nineteenth century
through the present, so the widespread concern with deﬁning “Japan” will be an im­
portant theme in discussions to follow of both elite and mass culture. Many aspectsof so-called Japanese tradition, it turns out, were invented as myths of the modern era.
On some occasions “Japanese traditions” were seen as obstacles to progress; at othertimes they were put forth as a model to the world. But just as Americans have sought
to deﬁne and defend a peculiar “American way of life” (and continue to do so), andjust as people in France or China or indeed anywhere on the globe have claimed anddefended their “exceptional” characteristics, throughout modern history in Japan a
deep interest in specifying and protecting “Japaneseness” has always been present.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

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In preparing this book, I have been fortunate to have the help and advice of numerous
people. Several graduate students at Harvard worked as research assistants, gathering
information, preparing charts and tables, and checking numerous facts. For this help,
I thank Jeff Bayliss, Ted Mack, Yoichi Nakano, and Emer O’Dwyer. Bayliss and Mack
also helped draft passages concerning their particular areas of research, the historiesof minorities in Japan and of literature and publishing, respectively. Cemil Aydin
similarly advised me on the treatment of pan-Asianism. My colleague Helen Hardacre
offered important advice on the treatment of religion in the 1990s. I am much indebted
to colleagues who read and commented on the entire manuscript at the publisher’srequest, offering detailed and extremely helpful guidance. They include Gary Allinson,
Timothy George, Barbara Molony, and two anonymous readers. My editors at Oxford
University Press—Nancy Lane, Gioia Stevens, and Peter Coveney—were patient andsupportive while offering important advice. The efforts of all of these people madethis a far better book than it would have been otherwise. I am responsible for the
shortcomings that remain.

WEBSITE
A companion website for this book can be found at www.oxfordjapan.org, containing
key historical documents in translation, as well as paper topics, study questions, andlinks to numerous websites helpful for the study of the modern history of Japan.

A NOTE ON MACRONS AND PRONOUNCATION
Macrons are straight lines drawn over vowels—for example, ō or ū. They indicatethat the vowel sound should be drawn out (“oh,” rather than “o”: in musical notation

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this would be the difference between a half note and a quarter note). For a handfulof very well-known words, such as major cities and the main islands (Tōkyō,Ōsaka, Kyōto, Hokkaidō, Honshū, Kyūshū) or the Shintō religion, it is conventional
to omit the macrons, even though the vowel sounds in these words are indeed drawn
out as indicated here. We omit them in such cases in this book. Other place names,
personal names, and Japanese terms are written with macrons.

Introduction
ENDURING IMPRINTS OF THE LONGER PAST

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The rulers who took power in 1868 initiated changes that amounted to a modern
revolution in Japan. To understand this time of transformation one must ﬁrst pay close
attention to the political, social, and cultural order that came together in the 1600s
and to the many changes of the 1700s and 1800s. That history, of what is called the
Tokugawa era (after the name of the ruling family), is the focus of Part 1. Before
examining this fascinating period, however, newcomers to the study of early modern
and modern Japan must be introduced to key features of geography, politics and in­ternational relations, and culture stretching back much further in time, all of which
remained important in the modern era.

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GEOGRAPHY AND CLIMATE

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The territory of present-day Japan consists of a long, thin chain of islands about one
hundred miles from the Korean peninsula at the closest point and ﬁve hundred miles
from the coast of China. The four main islands are Kyushu, Honshu, Shikoku, andHokkaido (Japanese rulers did not control the land or people of Hokkaido until thenineteenth century). This archipelago extends diagonally from the northeast to south­
west for about twelve hundred miles, roughly the length of the eastern coast of theUnited States. One is never far from the ocean; the most inland point in the country
is no more than eighty miles from the coast. The total area of Japan is just under
150,000 square miles, roughly the size of Montana. The area covered by lowland
plains does not exceed 13 percent of total land; that occupied by plateau adds another12 percent. Over two-thirds of the total land surface is made up of steep mountain
districts. Rain is plentiful. A rainy season in June and early July comes between spring
and a hot humid summer. The rainy season produces less intense downpours than the
monsoons of other parts of Asia, but it has sufﬁced to enable irrigation and ricecultivation to succeed.
Several aspects of this geographic situation are relevant to Japan’s modern history.
The distance from the southern island of Kyushu to the Asian mainland was closeenough to allow sea journeys more than two thousand years ago, but it was far enoughto have made this a perilous journey. Until modern times this distance made it possible
but unusual to launch military invasions from the continent or expeditions of conquestfrom Japan. This moderate distance also allowed people living in present-day Japan,
both before the modern era and more recently, to hold an ambivalent sense of their re­lation to the cultures of the Asian continent. The Japanese people have been alternatively
proud of their Chinese inheritance and deﬁantly assertive of an independent identity.
12

IN T R O D U C T IO N

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The temperate, moist climate, especially in the regions from the midpoint of themain island of Honshu to the southwest, made agriculture possible and supported a
growing population. Inhabitants numbered around ﬁve million in the early centuries
of settled agriculture in the ﬁrst millennium c.e. The population grew to about thirty
million by the early 1800s. Two particularly large and fertile plains played key stra­tegic roles at the center of economic, political, and cultural life. In west central Japan,
the Kansai Plain was home to ancient and medieval cities in the vicinity of presentday Osaka and Kyoto. In east central Japan, the Kantō region is the largest plain in
the country. The Tokugawa rulers developed the huge city of Edo out of a smallﬁshing village along the coast in the Kantō Plain. After 1868, Edo was renamed Tokyo,
Japan’s famous modern capital.
While the geographic inheritance of climate and agricultural plains allowed the
population to grow, the lay of the land separated people from each other. The Japaneseislands are compact but mountains, forests, and lack of long ﬂat rivers hindered trans­
port and communication and made centralized political rule difﬁcult. Looking at thepolitical unity and strong national identity of people in Japan today, it is tempting toassume that such unity and shared identity are deeply rooted in a long continuous
historical experience. This is not the case. For most of the premodern era, central
authorities exercised limited control over regions beyond the immediate environs of
their political capital. Power was especially fragmented over the three centuries before
the Tokugawa family established its authority in 1600. And even during the era of
Tokugawa rule, famous for its political order and peace, local rulers retained muchautonomy. The extent to which the masses of common people shared an identity as
possessors of a common Japanese culture was quite limited. In many ways, the ideathat Japan is a uniﬁed place whose people comprise a coherent nation is a creation ofmodern times. The notion of “Japanese-ness” is an identity cobbled together in theface of a resistant geography.

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POLITICAL INSTITUTIONSArThe Japanese emperor has played a central role in modern history. The imperial in­stitution is one of a handful of monarchies that have survived the revolutionary up­
heavals of the modern era. Indeed, one can argue that with the exception of the seventhand eighth centuries c.e., the monarchy in Japan has been more consequential in its
modernized form of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries than at any previous time.
The current imperial family traces its hereditary line back to the early sixth cen­tury. It emerged as the Yamato family of chief priests and priestesses presiding over
one of several clans contending for political supremacy (eight early monarchs were
women). By the early 700s, this Yamato clan had achieved unchallenged political aswell as sacred authority. It built a capital city and commissioned the writing of his­
torical chronicles that invented a mythic genealogical line extending back from thesixth century c.e. through twenty-eight legendary rulers to 660 b.c.e. This ancient
mythology was revived in the late nineteenth century as the orthodox “modern” viewof imperial history.
The early phenomenon of strong, politically active emperors did not continue.

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Introduction

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With a few exceptions, emperors from the ninth through the nineteenth centuries wereof little political consequence. They continued to play a religious role as priests in
the indigenous Shinto tradition, but other ﬁgures came to rule in the name of theemperor: ﬁrst aristocratic families linked to the imperial court and then military fam­ilies with diverse social and political bases. Thus, the high political proﬁle of themodernized monarchy in the nineteenth century was a major break with the past.
Military ﬁgures with long histories played key roles in the revolutionary upheavalsof the nineteenth century. The term samurai (as well as bushi) refers to Japan’s war­riors, a diverse group that ﬁgures prominently in the story to follow. Early samuraicome into the historian’s focus around the tenth century. They were provincial warriors
who served aristocratic families in the capital or in the imperial court itself. The bow
and arrow was their weapon of choice. In later centuries samurai achieved equality
with, and then hegemony over, the aristocracy. The ﬁrst military government, called
a bakufu (or tent government), was founded in the coastal town of Kamakura in the
Kantō region in the 1180s. Its chief won power by force of arms, but he then induced
the emperor to legitimize this claim by conferring the title of shogun (generalissimo)
upon him (the full title was Barbarian Quelling Generalissimo). More recent warrior
rulers, including those of the Tokugawa family in power in the early modern period,
likewise drew legitimacy from the imperial court by accepting the title of shogun.
The technology of war shifted over time, from bow and arrow to swords, and in
the 1500s to ﬁrearms. In addition, the social and political organization of the samuraichanged greatly. Earlier warriors engaged in individual combat. Regional warrior fam­ilies were scattered through the countryside. Their control over the population wasoften weak. By the ﬁfteenth and sixteenth centuries, more cohesive bands of warriors
had come together under the leadership of military lords called daimyō (literally,“great name”). By the mid-1500s, political power was extraordinarily fragmented. The
Japanese islands were divided into several hundred political units, or domains, under
the control of ambitious and mutually suspicious daimyō lords, each of whom could
mobilize a substantial force of samurai warriors. The political history of early modern
Japan begins with a process of uniﬁcation by which a few of these lords won hegem­
ony over the rest.

PRIOR ENGAGEMENTS BEYOND THE ARCHIPELAGO
The ﬁrst European missionaries and traders did not arrive in Japan until the 1540s,
just before this uniﬁcation began. They carried with them guns and God. Their ﬁre­arms gave a boost to aspiring military rulers, accelerating the process by which themain islands came under uniﬁed political control. Their Christian religion had asmaller impact. By 1600, Spanish and Portuguese missionaries had converted as manyas 300,000 people to the Catholic faith. But fearing that loyalty to a foreign god mightlead to political disloyalty, Japan’s rulers beginning in the 1590s sought to prohibit
Christianity and to limit trade with Europeans. By the 1630s these restrictions wereeffectively imposed. In these ways, Europeans played an important but relatively minor
role in Japan for a century before the modern era.
In contrast, other people in Asia, especially the Chinese and Koreans, played a4

IN T R O D U C T IO N

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major role in Japanese history for many centuries. Indeed, the premodern histories of
the Chinese mainland, the Korean peninsula, and the Japanese islands are inseparable.
For centuries before modern times, relations among various rulers in Asia wereloosely organized around a China-centered system of “tribute.” Chinese emperors werethe most powerful ﬁgures in the vast regions from Indochina to Northeast Asia. They
viewed people outside their borders as possessors of less civilized cultures. They
expected that emissaries of the rulers on the peripheries—called kings—would visit
the Chinese capital, bow their heads low, present gifts, and praise the glory of theChinese emperor, or “son of heaven.” In exchange, the emperor promised protection
and offered access to lucrative trade. Rulers on the Korean peninsula and in Vietnam
were often unhappy at their subordinate role in tributary relations. They accepted theobligations (and economic beneﬁts) of this system because they recognized the su­
perior power—including occasional military invasions—that backed up Chinese re­quests for tribute. Although Japanese elites freely drew on the achievements of Chineseand Korean culture over many centuries, most of them—including the Tokugawa
rulers—were also reluctant to accept the subordinate position implied by the systemof tribute relations. Thanks to the barrier of the ocean, they were more successful inresisting claims for tribute. Even so, they had difﬁculty devising or imposing a dif­ferent regional system until the nineteenth century. One major element of the modern
revolution in Japan—which set it apart from its neighbors—would be the quick de­cision to embrace the Western system of diplomacy and international relations and toplay the game of imperialist geopolitics on Western terms.
The premodern legacy of relations among people in Asia involved much morethan such traditions of formal diplomacy. The Asian continent was the point of origin
for almost all of the elements that came to deﬁne Japanese culture. Immigrants broughtrice agriculture to Japan through China and Korea in the centuries from 300 b.c.e. to300 c.e., and rice cultivation remained at the heart of economies throughout East Asia
until the twentieth century. New military technologies also entered at that time. In thefollowing centuries, both immigrants to and travelers venturing out of Japan imported
a written language based on Chinese ideographic characters (kanji). They also im­ported political as well as religious ideas and institutions. These provided the foun­dation for the achievements of classical Japanese civilization during the Nara and
Heian eras (700s through 1100s, c.e.). Important religious and economic relations
with the Asian continent continued in the medieval era (1200s–1500s). For more thana millennium before the early modern period, people in Japan, and immigrants toJapan, imported and adapted the cultural forms of the Asian mainland.
Among these forms, Buddhism and Confucianism were traditions of particularimportance in religion, philosophy, and political life. Buddhist religious practice wasborn in South Asia in the ﬁfth century b.c.e. It ﬂourished, reached China by the ﬁrst
or second century c.e., and spread further to the Korean peninsula. In the early 500s,
the king of Paekche on the Korean peninsula introduced Buddhist writings and art toelite Japanese clans close to the emperor.
From the outset, Buddhism stressed that suffering was the essence of human life.
A richly diverse body of thought and practice developed, ﬁrst in India and later
throughout Asia, with the goal of guiding people to a state of transcendence or en­
lightenment that could dissolve or overcome the suffering of human existence. Some

5

IntroductionietyModern examples of Chinese written language imported into Japan. The character for moonis a pictograph that visually conveys an image of a crescent moon. The characters for aboveand below more abstractly convey their meaning. More complex compounds, such as the termrights, coined in Japan in the nineteenth century, combine such elements in a way that has
no direct connection to pictorial representation.

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Buddhists stressed meditation and ascetic practices. Others looked to prayer and ap­
peals to greater powers for their salvation.
In Japan Buddhism reached an early peak of cultural and political prominence inthe seventh and eighth centuries. These original sects later declined, but new sects,
including the meditative Zen tradition and the more faith-based Pure Land andNichiren Buddisms, continued to develop over the following centuries. Buddhism
gradually extended its social reach into the countryside and among warriors and com­moners as well as court aristocrats. A number of Buddhist temple complexes built up
private armies or sought political inﬂuence. A few sects in the medieval era built
extensive networks of independent political power. In the Tokugawa era, the Buddhist
sects were brought under tight political control. Temples of one afﬁliation or another
could be found in virtually every town and village, and rulers used them to keep trackof the population. Through the centuries, Buddhism established itself in Japan as avibrant cultural force. It was the source of new intellectual trends, such as the neoConfucianism of medieval times, as well as the keeper of old traditions.
The moral and political dimensions of Confucian thought were important in Japan
from ancient through modern times. Confucianism stressed the need for rulers tochoose ofﬁcials of the highest ethical and intellectual quality. Moral character was
said to begin in the family with the piety and respect that children owed parents,
fathers in particular. Superior men, with qualiﬁcations to lead others, were those who
studied extensively and cultivated a benevolent spirit. Elites in ancient China createda system of examinations to test for such qualities, which they believed were reﬂected
in mastery of the major Confucian texts. For nearly two thousand years, until the earlytwentieth century, Chinese emperors and political elites selected government ofﬁcials
on the basis of exam results. These Confucian ideas and writings ﬁrst entered Japanin a similar fashion to Buddhism, via the Paekche kingdom. Confucianism, like Bud­dhism, reached a ﬁrst peak of political importance in the seventh and eighth centuries.
Chinese-style examinations were in use for a time. Japanese rulers consciously mod­eled their institutions on the Confucian practices of the powerful T’ang dynasty in
China.

6

IN T R O D U C T IO N

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Over the following several centuries, Confucian thought and political practices
declined in importance. But in medieval times, from the thirteenth to sixteenth cen­turies, Japanese Buddhist priests traveled to China and brought back a new develop­
ment, neo-Confucianism, which was a revitalized interpretation of Confucianism thatstressed the importance of direct reading of the classic Chinese texts of ancient times.
The neo-Confucianism intellectual tradition was ﬁrst developed by Zhu Xi, a brilliant
Chinese thinker of the twelfth century (1130–1200). He revived and revised the Con­
fucian tradition by stressing the need to ignore recent interpretations and turn directly
to the original texts of Confucius and other early sages. For several centuries, theideas of Zhu Xi were carefully studied in Japan by Buddhist monks. NeoConfucianism struck a resonant chord in these monasteries of the medieval era among
men labeled “Buddhist-Confucian” monks. As we will see, in Tokugawa times neoConfucian ideas made their way into secular circles and became an important culturaland political force.
On occasion, severe tensions marred the relationship of Buddhist and Confucian
adherents, as they jockeyed for aristocratic patronage or political power. But on thewhole, the traditions and the advocates of Buddhist and Confucian thought coexisted
in reasonable harmony in premodern times. Neither body of thought was primarily
concerned with making an exclusive claim to truth and value. Both Buddhism andConfucianism became deeply rooted parts of Japanese culture.
Buddhism and Confucianism also came to coexist with the earlier religious prac­
tice of Shinto (the Way of the Gods). The term Shinto was in fact used for the ﬁrst
time in the eighth century to describe a diverse set of earlier ritual observances andsacred sites. The Shinto divinities were called kami. Many kami were linked to thecycle of agricultural and local community life. They were worshiped in small shrines
throughout the land and were invoked in festivals and rituals over the course of theyear. Shinto observances and beliefs focused on preserving purity and life in humansociety and nature. Other kami were protectors of powerful political families, chief
among them the imperial family. This family claimed descent from a sun goddess,
Amaterasu. Several grand shrines, above all the Ise Shrine in central Japan, developedin the early centuries c.e. as sacred ancestral sites of the imperial family.
Over the centuries Shinto priests, Buddhist monks, and Confucian scholars (andsome who combined these roles in one person) integrated the Shinto pantheon andpractice with Buddhist and Confucian traditions. From the eighth century, Buddhist
temples and Shinto shrines were often located side by side. New doctrines in medieval
times identiﬁed the various kami as manifestations of Buddhahood in a different form.
In the early Tokugawa period, some Confucian scholars likewise stressed the similarityof Shinto and Confucian beliefs.
But a sense of difference among these three religious and ethical traditions did
continue to exist, along with the possibility that their adherents would contend for
ideological or political advantage. From early modern to modern times, the diverse
elements of Japan’s cultural past would be vigorously discussed and reinterpreted,sometimes being attacked as irrelevant or harmful impediments to modernity, at othertimes being exalted as the source of a special “Japanese” identity.

7

Introduction

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The Japanese islands in 1800 were home to a mainly agrarian population of about
thirty million people. Commerce was dynamic and expanding. Urban life was ener­
getic as well; roughly one-tenth of the population lived in cities or towns. Under thepartially centralized rule of the Tokugawa family, the islands were part of a Northeast
Asian regional system of trade and diplomatic relations.
But from a global perspective, these islands were a relative backwater. They were
scarcely integrated into political or economic relations beyond East Asia. Sprouts ofcapitalism were visible, and signs of political crisis were widespread, but few would
have predicted a revolutionary transformation of economy and society, or polity andculture, in the near future.
Yet by 1900, a multisided revolution had occurred. Japan was the only constitu­
tional nation-state outside Europe and the Americas. It was the only non-Westernimperialist power. It was the ﬁrst, and at the time the only, non-Western site of anindustrial revolution.
Equally extraordinary changes marked the twentieth century. The early decades
saw energetic democratic movements. Sharp confrontations broke out between laborers
and their bosses, between tenant farmers and their landlords. Modern times alsobrought innovation—and uncertainty—to gender roles. The ﬁrst half of the century
witnessed a political history of terror and assassination, an imperialist history of ag­
gressive expansion, and a war that included some of the worst atrocities of a century
that saw more than its share of murderous behavior. By the start of the twenty-ﬁrst
century, a paciﬁst Japan had become one of the most afﬂuent societies in the world,
but its people faced new, tough challenges as they looked to revitalize the economy,
teach the young and support the old, and play a constructive global role.
The goals of this book are to sort out cause and effect in this history, recognize
continuities as well as abrupt changes, and understand how people in Japan themselves
understood their experience. These remain controversial and important subjects, partof the shared heritage of world citizens.

P
A
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T

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CRISIS OF THE
TOKUGAWA REGIME

1
The Tokugawa Polity

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The tumultuous changes of modern times in Japan unfolded against the backdrop of
more than two centuries of unprecedented peace and social order. This era, called the
Tokugawa period after the family name of Japan’s military rulers between 1600 and
1868, has left a variety of images for later ages. The Tokugawa order was bolsteredby harsh laws and restrictions on social and geographic mobility. Ofﬁcials are said tohave ruled by the motto, “Sesame seeds and peasants are very much alike. The more
you squeeze them, the more you can extract from them.”1 At the same time, theTokugawa centuries were an era of ﬂourishing rural production and commerce andlively city life. One careful European observer wrote in the 1690s that “an incredible
number of people daily use the highways of Japan’s provinces, indeed at certain timesof the year they are as crowded as the streets of a populous European city.”2
Numerous formal restrictions coexisted with an energetic, at times rambunctious,
population over the Tokugawa centuries. And important changes took place. These
did not set the Tokugawa system on a smooth course toward modernity, but they were
important nonetheless. By the nineteenth century, the regime faced grave problems.
Underemployed warriors suffered a troubling identity crisis. Established institutions
and ideas seemed inadequate to deal with new pressures at home and from outside.
Rulers strongly committed to maintaining order faced social tensions and protests. A
look at the origins of Tokugawa society and the emergence of these problems helps
one make sense of the unexpected and hardly predictable modern transformations thatbegan when the regime eventually collapsed.

UNIFICATION
The most important feature of Tokugawa history was the absence of warfare. The¯
War de­contrast to what came before was immense. From 1467 to 1477, the Oninstroyed the ancient capital of Kyoto, the emperor’s home since 794, a beautiful cityof temples and aristocratic residences. For the next century, warfare was constant.
Hundreds of thousands of samurai men in arms clustered around provincial militaryrulers called daimyō. These regional rulers jockeyed for control of land, people, andcommerce.
Although war was a dominant theme of the age, this was by no means a century
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C R ISIS O F T H E T O K U G A W A R EGI M E

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of unrelieved misery for all. Commerce ﬂourished, and several cities emerged as rel­
atively autonomous international trading ports. Some devotees of Buddhism organized
powerful communities called ikkō (single-minded) sects. They too won autonomy fromdaimyō control.
Then, between the 1570s and 1600, three remarkable, often ruthless rulers pulled
together an enduring political order. From the 1600s through the mid-1800s, people
in Japan enjoyed over 250 years free of war. The warrior elite of daimyō and samurai
retained their place as political rulers, but the character of the warriors changed dra­
matically. Immense change likewise came to economic and cultural life.
The ﬁrst of the so-called uniﬁers was Oda Nobunaga.* He began as modest lordof the Owari domain in the vicinity of present-day Nagoya. In 1555 Nobunaga began
his rise to power, soon embarking on a ruthless campaign of terror. He laid waste to
the Buddhist strongholds, killing thousands of monks and burning great libraries andtemples. In 1574, he overcame the independent villages whose residents supported the
ikkō sect of Buddhism. By 1582, when he was assassinated by a treacherous underling,he had consolidated control over roughly two-thirds of Japan.
Viewed with fear and awe at the time, Nobunaga has not been remembered kindly
by historians, who have called him “a magniﬁcent savage,” a “cruel and callous brute,”even “a Japanese Attila.”3 But Nobunaga was more than a butcher. He also fashioned
political institutions that his successors used to good effect in establishing and sus­
taining the Tokugawa peace. He encouraged or allowed relatively autonomous villageorganization as long as villagers paid taxes. He developed a bureaucratic program oftax collection, so that his vassals did not collect revenue directly from villages. Instead,specialized tax collectors did this, and they gave the loot in part to the vassals, in partto Nobunaga. He simultaneously separated the thousands of petty military lords fromtheir ﬁefs. He took “proprietorship” from these men, and in exchange he guaranteed
the petty lord an income reﬂecting the size and output of his land. In doing this, heestablished the right to reassign a subordinate lord.
For this system to work, a systematic survey of the land, its productive capacity,
its size, and its ownership was crucial. Nobunaga pioneered in the use of surveys ofthe quality and quantity of agricultural land, and this constituted a foundation of theearly modern political system. He also began the practice of disarming villagers andestablishing a fairly sharp class boundary between warriors and farmers.
In the wake of Nobunaga’s death, one lieutenant took up the banner as aspiring
hegemon. This was Toyotomi Hideyoshi, a low-born foot soldier of unimposing ap­
pearance. His contemporaries dubbed him “the monkey.” His wife is said to havecalled him a “bald rat.” Epithets aside, he was a brilliant political strategist. In contrast
to Nobunaga, who obliterated rivals and gave their lands to trusted underlings, Hide-*A note on names: In the Japanese language people typically are identiﬁed with their family nameﬁrst, followed by their given name (so-called ﬁrst name), and we will follow this pattern in this book.
Thus, Oda was this ruler’s family name. His given name was Nobunaga. Historians refer to most importantﬁgures by their family name (for example, Prime Minister Ito), but a few especially famous or notorious
ﬁgures in political or cultural life are called by their given (“ﬁrst”) names, much the way speakers ofEnglish refer to the British royal family members as “Charles” or “Elizabeth.” Oda Nobunaga (as well as
Toyotomi Hideyoshi and Tokugawa Ieyasu) are such ﬁgures in Japan. In these cases we follow the Japanesepractice and use their given names.

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The Tokugawa Polity

THE TOKUGAWA POLITICAL SETTLEMENTS

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yoshi pursued a politics of alliance-building. He attacked enemies who resisted, but
he accepted oaths of loyalty from those who came over to his side. In such fashion,
he extended domininion over all of Japan by 1591.
Hideyoshi continued and systematized the institutions of Nobunaga, and he added
some twists of his own. He took hostages from the daimyō to ensure their loyalty. In
1588 he extended throughout his lands the practice of disarming peasants through socalled sword hunts. He also launched two massive and disastrous invasions of Korea
in 1592 and 1597, seemingly with the intention of conquering China as well. Hide­yoshi simultaneously turned against the Jesuit missionaries who had been winning
converts in Japan since they ﬁrst arrived in the 1550s. At the time of his death in
1598, Hideyoshi stood unchallenged at the apex of a federation of daimyō that covered
the entire territory of Japan. He left behind a council of his most trusted lieutenants,
called regents. They pledged to rule on behalf of his young son until the boy cameof age. This was an unstable plan for succession, and a power struggle soon brokeout among the regents.

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These decades of swift political innovation culminated in rule by the Tokugawa
family’s bakufu, or military government. The ﬁrst Tokugawa ruler was Ieyasu. Oneof his foreign biographers, a British scholar writing in 1937 with a sympathetic eyeon the programs of Adolf Hitler in Germany, excused his ruthless side by noting that“the virtues desirable in the ordinary farmer or bourgeois are hardly of much use toa military dictator.”4
Ieyasu was a harsh ruler. He was also a patient tactician who knew how to com­
promise. He was a peer of Hideyoshi, and his strongest potential opponent, but
he held back from challenging the “bald rat.” Ieyasu rather consolidated a base in
the region of the eastern Kantō Plain, and he waited. Following on Nobunaga and
Hideyoshi’s models, he built up an effective domain government in the 1580s and1590s. After Hideyoshi died, Ieyasu—who was one of the regents—lost little time ingathering his allies. In 1600 he destroyed the forces of the other regents, loyal to
Hideyoshi’s son, in the famous battle of Sekigahara. This gave him essentially un­
challenged hegemony. In 1603 he had the emperor grant him the ancient title ofshogun.
In 1605, just ﬁve years after Sekigahara, while he was still energetic and healthy,
Ieyasu “retired.” He put his own son, Hidetada, in the ofﬁce of shogun to ensure asmooth succession. He continued to rule from behind the scenes until he died in
1616. The son had only seven unchaperoned years as shogun until his own death in
1623.
Ieyasu’s grandson, Tokugawa Iemitsu, was the third shogun and a ruler almost as
important as Ieyasu. His rule from 1623 to 1651 was the height of the Tokugawa dic­tatorship. It was Ieyasu and Iemitsu, in particular, who consolidated the institutions
that remained in place when Western powers threatened to colonize Japan in the
1850s.
Ieyasu and Iemitsu built upon the achievements of Nobunaga and Hideyoshi to

12

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C R ISIS O F T H E T O K U G A W A R EGI M E

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Portrait of the Tokugawa regime founder Ieyasu. Although Ieyasu came to power by exercis­
ing military might, in this painting he is dressed in court robe and cap, which convey themessage that his legitimacy also derived from the Emperor’s grant of the title of shogun, or
generalissimo.
Courtesy of Nikkō Tōshōgū Shrine.

put in place a series of what we can call “settlements.” These various arrangements
secured the Tokugawa position at the apex of political power. They neutralized all
possible opposition, from daimyō and the emperor’s court, to samurai, peasants, mer­chants, and priests. These settlements eliminated tensions of previous decades, evencenturies. They brought to Japan the most stable political order in its history. Of
course, historical processes of creating or sustaining institutions are never entirely
stable. The settlements of the 1600s generated new contradictions that eventuallyeroded the Tokugawa order, but this was a gradual process that unfolded over thecourse of more than two centuries.

13

The Tokugawa Polity

The Daimyō

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Most of the speciﬁc Tokugawa policies had precedents in Hideyoshi’s institutions ofrule or those of Nobunaga, but Ieyasu and his successors implemented them more
systematically. The settlement with the daimyō was one of the most important. Ieyasu
enforced an order limiting castles to one per domain. He required daimyō to swear
oaths of loyalty to him. He forbade them from concluding alliances among themselvesand dispatched inspectors to make sure the daimyō were in compliance. Ieyasu further
controlled the daimyō by mandating that all their marriages receive Tokugawa
approval.
Ieyasu periodically required the daimyō to give him expensive contributions tobuilding projects, including his great castle at Edo, which he established as his seatof power. But occasional coerced “gifts” of this sort were the closest Tokugawa Ieyasu
or his descendants came to taxing the daimyō. The ﬁscal autonomy of domains wasa signiﬁcant limit to Tokugawa power. Following the precedent of Hideyoshi, Ieyasu
opted to rule through a political system of alliances with weaker military rulers. He
left roughly 180 daimyō in place as hereditary rulers of relatively autonomous domains
as long as they showed respect and followed his orders.5
His grandson, Iemitsu, extended the Tokugawa reach considerably. Iemitsu estab­lished the right to conﬁscate daimyō lands and give them to other lords he consideredmore reliable. He also exercised power by ordering some daimyō to trade domains,which weakened them considerably. He conﬁscated portions of many domains andgave them to lieutenants under his direct command. These territories were called
Tokugawa “house” lands. On other occasions he took the land of former opponentsof the regime and granted them to his most loyal daimyō allies, called fudai daimyō.
Through such steps, he was able to ensure the hegemony of the Tokugawa clan andits allies in other domains.
All told, Iemitsu redistributed control over about ﬁve million koku,6 fully oneﬁfth of Japan’s arable land. In these maneuvers, Iemitsu was especially tough on thedaimyō who had opposed his grandfather in the battle of Sekigahara. These werecalled the tozama, or outer, daimyō. He protected his power base by building a con­centric pattern of Tokugawa house lands close to Edo, surrounded by lands of alliedfudai daimyō and Tokugawa relatives called shinpan. He placed the former opponents—the tozama daimyō—in lands at the farthest reaches of the three main islands.
Iemitsu also put in place one extremely important innovation, actually a dramatic
extension of a pre-Tokugawa practice. This was the system of “alternate attendance”(sankin kōtai). It completes the picture of Tokugawa rule at the peak of hegemony
over once-dangerous rivals. It had roots in the treatment of some daimyō by an earlier
shogun, in the 1300s. The daimyō of this era were required to “attend” in the capitalof the time, Kyoto, rather than live in domains, so the shogun could keep tabs on
them. On several occasions in the late sixteenth century Hideyoshi likewise required
leading daimyō to remain close by in “attendance.” But this early form of attendance
was not ongoing, scheduled, or universal. Between 1635 and 1642 Iemitsu regularized
the attendance system.
Iemitsu required all daimyō to maintain residences in Edo as well as in their homedomain. They would have to attend upon the shogun by residing in Edo in alternate

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years. Their wives and children had to remain behind in Edo when they went home
for a year before the next period of attendance. This was a most effective system ofpolitical control. It created what were essentially hostage neighborhoods of daimyō
families (although the conditions of these “hostages” were quite comfortable as longas they did not try to leave the city). The attendance system led to the watchword at
the guard posts of Edo: Beware of women going out, guns coming in. These would
have been signs of rebellion in the making. But for two hundred years, there were noserious challenges to the Tokugawa.
In addition to controlling them, attendance dramatically weakened the daimyō. It
forced them to spend great sums to maintain several households, one back home andtwo or three in Edo. They also had to pay for their grand processions back and forth
between the home castle and Edo. Daimyō lords typically used up two-thirds of theirannual tax revenues on stafﬁng their Edo residences. Forced attendance weakened the
daimyō politically by removing them from a hands-on role in local rule, since they
were absent half the time. In addition, a daimyō’s sense of identiﬁcation with hishome domain was often weak because he would be raised by his mother and her staff
in Edo, never setting foot in his own domain until adulthood.

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The Imperial Institution

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A second critical settlement gave the shogun effective control over the potentiallymost potent Japanese political symbol, the emperor. Ieyasu continued the Nobunagaand Hideyoshi policies of economic support for the court, raising it considerably fromthe genteel poverty of the previous century. The position of supreme military ruler,or shogun, was in theory a grant from the emperor. For this reason, the Tokugawa
family could raise their own legitimacy by simultaneously enhancing imperial prestige
and carefully controlling the emperor. To this end, the shogun promulgated a set of“laws for nobles.” The shogun claimed the power to make court appointments andgrant land incomes. He held an imperial prince hostage at the Tokugawa family’s own
shrine at Nikkō. To monitor the imperial court, he stationed his own deputy at ahighly visible outpost in Kyoto, the Nijō palace not far from the emperor’s palace,while he ﬂattered the court with minor courtesies.
These policies presented the shogun as a virtual equal to the emperor. One result
was to create signiﬁcant confusion in the minds of Westerners in the mid-nineteenth
century as to who was, in fact, the sovereign ruler. In 1857, the American tradenegotiator Townsend Harris presented the shogun a letter from President Pierce ad­dressed to “His Majesty the Emperor of Japan.”7 But at least among the samurai who
joined political agitation against the Tokugawa in the 1850s and 1860s, the notion that
legitimacy stemmed from the emperor remained powerful.

The Samurai
Several hundred thousand samurai warriors had been more or less permanently mo­bilized by hundreds of daimyō to ﬁght the wars of the late 1500s. In a political systemthat closely resembled that of feudalism in Europe, these samurai had controlled small
portions of land, called ﬁefs, as well as the peasants who farmed them. They had
drawn tax income from this land to support their military endeavors. But controlling

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The Tokugawa Polity

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this land and its residents, and defending it from neighboring warriors, could be
difﬁcult. By pledging loyalty and offering military service to more powerful daimyōrulers, these samurai warriors gained protection from predatory neighbors as well as
rebellious peasants. After the wars of uniﬁcation ended, however, few of these samurai
returned to supervise their lands directly. Instead, most became town- and citydwellers. Many were instructed by their daimyō rulers to take up residence in the socalled castle towns that had sprung up around each domain’s castle. Others were told
to serve at the domain residence nearby the shogun’s castle at Edo. Still others wereposted as ofﬁcers in rural towns, who oversaw a complex bureaucracy that surveyed
land, assessed output, collected taxes, and kept local order. The samurai’s ﬁef lands
came to be administered by these specialized ofﬁcers of the daimyō or the shogun.
The ofﬁcials would collect tax revenues from the lands originally controlled by thesamurai and forward the funds to the daimyō’s castle or his Edo residence. The daimyō
would then pay out to each samurai an amount equivalent to the expected income
from that man’s original ﬁef.
The samurai in the city retained the right to wear two swords. Some served aspolicemen and keepers of order, but the majority no longer had ofﬁcial military duties.
Assigned to a variety of administrative positions, or sometimes to none at all, thesamurai received from the daimyō their annual salaries, called “stipends,” reﬂecting
the value of a ﬁef of origin. But over time, the samurai’s sense of connection to thisﬁef became increasingly abstract and weakened. Samurai were subject to Tokugawa
or domain law. Private vendettas of honor or loyalty were harshly punished in theinterests of a broader concept of social order.
At ﬁrst, with the uniﬁcation wars still fresh in living memory, these citiﬁed samu­
rai were a rough-and-tumble lot. Samurai gang wars—a West Side Story in the shad­ows of Edo castle—were frequent in the early 1600s. Over time, however, most sam­urai turned in swords for calligraphy brushes. They came to occupy a theoreticallyprivileged but often quite conﬁned position as a hereditary elite that managed thebusiness of bakufu and domain. Assignments to high ofﬁce, and prospects for pro­motion, came to depend on literacy, especially for samurai sons born into the middle
and upper ranks. The samurai were transformed from warriors into bureaucrats. Thoseon the bottom of the salary scale lived in very modest, often impoverished, circum­
stances. During the Tokugawa era, roughly 6 to 7 percent of the population was fromsamurai families.

Villagers and City-Dwellers
The fourth settlement that bolstered the Tokugawa peace was that imposed upon theremainder of the population, the commoners, who were divided into several subgroups.
In the 1630s, Tokugawa Iemitsu ordered all commoners to register with a Buddhist
temple. The system was tightened in 1665 when the shogun ordered the temples toguarantee each person’s religious loyalty. Villagers were not allowed to change placesof residence or even travel without permission. The system of registration was thus atool of political and social control. It was also a means to enforce the ban on Chris­tianity that had been inconsistently imposed on the population since the 1590s.
The statuses of farmer and of merchant or artisan townspeople thus became ﬁxed

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and hereditary. Roughly 80 percent of the population was farmers. The remainder
were townspeople of various sorts. But despite many restrictions on what people ineach status group were allowed to do, the Tokugawa did not micromanage the livesof ordinary people. Within the conﬁnes of a circumscribed world, commoners had
considerable autonomy. It is true they needed permission to travel and were not sup­posed to move to cities. But enforcement of such rules was often quite lax. In practice,
the bakufu and domain governments kept out of the internal affairs of villages, aslong as the villagers paid their taxes. The bakufu collected taxes from a whole village,
not from individuals. The village, in turn, retained the collective responsibility for
managing internal affairs, maintaining order, and delivering criminals to the bakufu
or domain authorities.
The settlement imposed upon city-dwellers, whether merchants or artisans,whether in bakufu centers of Edo or Osaka or in the hundreds of domain castle towns,
was similar in broad outlines to that imposed upon villagers. As they had done withvillage headmen, samurai ofﬁcials delegated responsibility for keeping order and reg­ulating economic activity to councils of leading merchants. A group of city elders wasgiven responsibility for enforcing laws, investigating crimes, and collecting taxes.8

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The Margins of the Japanese and Japan

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In the orthodox vision of the Tokugawa social order, which drew on Chinese Con­
fucian ideas, society was divided into four classes arranged in a hierarchy of moral
virtue as well as secular authority: warrior, farmer, artisan, and merchant. Many, how­ever, did not quite ﬁt into any of these groups. Some were people of respect orcelebrity: Buddhist priests, actors, and artists. Others were subject to society’s scorn,
including prostitutes and various groups of outcastes. The main outcaste group wascalled eta (literally, “much ﬁlth,” today a pejorative term). This was a hereditary groupof unclear origins. Its members lived in scattered communities, where they performed
tasks deemed unclean by mainstream society, such as burials, executions, and thehandling of animal carcasses. The outcastes also included criminals assigned to a
separate category of “nonpersons” (hinin), who were forced to subsist on jobs suchas ragpicking.
In Edo in the 1600s, the entertainment quarters of brothels, theaters, and restau­rants developed into a ﬂourishing district called Yoshiwara, near the shogun’s castle.
Its presence offended moralistic ofﬁcials and tempted samurai to neglect duty for the
pursuit of male pleasure. But the rulers were practical men and were not inclined toban prostitution. Instead, the bakufu authorities took the occasion of a ﬁre that de­stroyed this district in 1657 to locate a new Yoshiwara on the far outskirts of the city.
In addition to brothels, the district was home to teahouses, Kabuki theaters, and res­taurants. Near the Yoshiwara district one found most of the city’s Buddhist temples
as well as its public execution grounds, which were supervised by the hereditary
outcastes. All of these people—outcastes of various categories, as well as prostitutes
and priests—were literally as well as conceptually relegated to the margins of societyby the physical placing of their communities on the edge of cities.
The Tokugawa paid particular attention to religious institutions. Not only was theentire population required to register with temples, but the temples themselves were

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The Tokugawa Polity

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also closely regulated. Their numbers and locations were speciﬁed, and they wererequired to report annually to the bakufu (or the daimyō). Such rules were intended
to prevent Buddhist temples from growing in strength, as they had in the past, to apoint where they might challenge secular authority.9
Another important marginal status group were the Ainu people, who trace com­plex roots back to aboriginal inhabitants of the Japanese islands. For centuries pre­ceding the Tokugawa era they maintained a relatively separate culture in the northernreaches of Honshu and the northern island called Ezo (present-day Hokkaido). In
Tokugawa times the Ainu numbered roughly twenty-ﬁve thousand. For the most part,
they subsisted by hunting and gathering. The northernmost daimyō, of the Matsumae
domain, was given the responsibility for trading with the Ainu, and also for keeping
them at bay. The Ainu occupied an ambiguous status on the margins of society. In
the Tokugawa order they were not viewed as fully part of the civilized world ofJapanese people. But neither were they considered fully part of the barbaric world of
foreigners.
Foreigners were the ﬁnal key group kept carefully on the margins. The foreign
relations of Tokugawa Japan are often summed up in a single word, “seclusion,” orby two words, “closed country.” Indeed, in the 1600s the Tokugawa did cut off tradewith countries that insisted on selling religion together with material goods. This ruledout the Spanish and the Portuguese, who had been active in both pursuits since the1540s. Their emissaries would not abandon missionary work for the sake of worldly
proﬁt.
From 1633 to 1639, the same years during which he initiated the policy of alter­nate attendance, Iemitsu issued a series of edicts that restricted the interaction ofpeople in Japan with those outside. He prohibited the Japanese from voyaging overseas
to the west of Korea or to the south of the Ryūkyū Islands (Okinawa). He restricted
the export of weapons and banned the practice and teaching of Christianity and thetravel of Catholics to Japan. In 1637–38, peasants in the Christian stronghold of Shi­mabara (near Nagasaki) rebelled, moved by a combination of economic grievances
and a millenarian hope for spiritual deliverance. Bakufu forces viewed this as a chal­lenge by traitorous Christians. They suppressed the rising brutally, killing perhaps
thirty-seven thousand people, young and old, men and women. Iemitsu also expelled
the Portuguese traders. Their last ships left Nagasaki in the summer of 1639. Finally,
he forbade all remaining foreigners from traveling inland or from selling or giving
books to anyone in Japan.
The English had already abandoned the Japanese trade in 1623. The Spanish
followed in 1624. When the Portuguese were forced to leave, only the Dutch remained.
They were content to keep their religious ideas to themselves and focus only on trade.
They took up residence on a tiny outpost in Nagasaki harbor, a landﬁll island called
Dejima.
These steps had a major impact. They sharply reduced Japanese ties to the Westfor over two hundred years, from the 1630s to the 1850s. This was a critical time inEuropean history. It was the era of the industrial and bourgeois revolutions and thecolonizing of the New World. It encompassed the entire colonial period in North
America and the ﬁrst seven decades of the history of the United States.
But to simply understand the Tokugawa foreign policy as one of seclusion is18

C R ISIS O F T H E T O K U G A W A R EGI M E

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ultimately quite misleading. Not until much later in the Tokugawa era, in the 1790s,
did people within Japanese society identify “seclusion” as the deﬁning essence of thesystem. From the rulers’ perspective at the time, by issuing these edicts the Tokugawa
had simply ousted those Westerners who insisted on promoting a religion that appeared
to be a political threat. They still tolerated some Western trade and continued tocultivate foreign relations in Asia, except to forbid private travel abroad. They pro­
moted ofﬁcially sponsored trade and diplomatic travel, both for its own sake and tomaintain domestic hegemony.
Satsuma domain was allowed to trade with the Ryūkyū Islands (Okinawa). This
was a source of Chinese goods throughout the Tokugawa era. Even in 1646, despite
the uncertainty of wars in China as the Qing established their dynasty, bakufu ofﬁcialsin Edo decided that Satsuma should maintain this trade. The bakufu also continued
trade with China through Nagasaki throughout the Tokugawa era. This provided accessto intelligence as well as goods.
The Tokugawa also maintained important economic and political relations with
Korea. These links were reopened just about a decade after Hideyoshi’s invasion. The
Japanese set up an outpost in Pusan much like the Dutch trading house in Nagasaki.
This trade reached a tremendous volume. The domain of Tsushima, a small islandwith almost no agriculture located about halfway between Kyushu and southern Korea,
handled this trade. By 1700 it earned proﬁts comparable to the rice tax revenue ofthe largest domains in Japan.
In addition, the Tokugawa made active use of foreign policy to shore up theirpolitical legitimacy, especially through the exchange of embassies with Korea. Dip­
lomatic relations with Korea were carried out beginning in the early 1600s. The Ko­reans sent twelve major embassies to Japan between 1610 and 1764, roughly one visit
each ten to ﬁfteen years. Each embassy brought from three hundred to ﬁve hundred
members. They would come on occasions of congratulation, such as the birth of a
shogunal heir or the accession of a new shogun. There were no missions in the reverse
direction. While the Japanese actively sought to have Koreans come, the Koreans neverinvited the Japanese, and they rebuffed occasional Japanese inquiries.
A similar diplomatic relationship developed between the Ryūkyū Islands and the
bakufu. The Ryūkyūans sent twenty-one embassies of congratulation between 1610
and 1850. With China, however, the Tokugawa established no ofﬁcial relations. The
Japanese refused to conduct relations in a way that acknowledged Chinese superiority,
as the Chinese wanted.
Through these several diplomatic initiatives the Tokugawa rulers rejected thepremises of a China-centered order emblematized by the tribute system to which other
Asian rulers submitted. They were attempting to develop a vision and a reality of adifferent regional order. This was not a blatantly hegemonic vision. The Koreans weretreated with a certain respect. They were not expected to prostrate themselves or toconvey symbolic servitude, as they were in visits to the Chinese court. They interacted
more or less as equals (although the Japanese clearly placed themselves as superiors
to the Ryūkyūans).
Through such diplomacy, the Tokugawa sought to legitimize its domestic position
as the hegemon of Japan. It hoped in particular to impress the many daimyō with therespect shown by foreigners to the Tokugawa. This goal is most evident in the way

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The Tokugawa Polity

the Korean embassies were used, especially in 1617 and in 1634 around the time ofthe so-called expulsion edicts. The tozama and collateral lords were all commanded
to attend a reception for 428 Korean visitors, a grand procession, and a visit to Ieyasu’s
grave. They were to be impressed by the many gifts to the Tokugawa and the con­gratulations given by the Koreans on uniﬁcation of the country. Over the ensuing
decades, Korean missions served to show the elite daimyō and top samurai that Japan’s
domestic political order was respected by a wider world.
By the late 1700s, this system of foreign relations had implanted a ﬁrmly held
belief among bakufu ofﬁcials and daimyō, and many informed samurai and educated,
wealthy villagers, that legitimate rule must exclude relations with the West. In thefeisty words of Aizawa Yasushi, a very important critic of Tokugawa policies in the1820s:

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Recently the loathsome Western barbarians, unmindful of their base position as thelower extremities of the world, have been scurrying impudently across the Four Seas,
trampling other nations underfoot. Now they are audacious enough to challenge ourexalted position in the world. What manner of insolence is this?10

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Three decades later, such views clashed head on with the Western belief in the uni­versal validity of its civilization—backed by the force of gunboats. As this happened,
the Tokugawa order fell apart.

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The settlements described in this chapter were worked out in the main under Tokugawa
Ieyasu. They were consolidated by his grandson Iemitsu. The settlements were de­scribed at the time as eternal reﬂections in social order of a natural hierarchy of cosmic
or sacred origin. They constituted a system that one pioneering American historianof Japan, John W. Hall, called “rule by status.”11 By this phrase he meant that the
separate statuses of daimyō, samurai, court noble, villager, merchant or artisan, priest
or prostitute, and outcaste or Ainu all had their own laws. Each status had its own
relationship to the Tokugawa rulers. People were in theory restricted to their statusniche, but they were given responsibility for self-regulation as well.
Tokugawa rulers could be harsh and arbitrary in their efforts to uphold order andtheir own position. But the political regime of these centuries was durable, and it wasable to accommodate considerable change over time. It brought unprecedented peaceto the Japanese islands. The economy grew substantially. The cultural life of both cityand countryside was often vigorous and creative. Judged against the standards of theprevious centuries in Japan, these achievements were considerable.
But the ﬂexibility and the reach of the Tokugawa order had limits. Compared to
the Western nation-states that projected their military and economic power into Japanin the 1850s, the Tokugawa polity was a clumsy and divided structure. It was incapableof taxing the economic resources of the entire country, or of mobilizing human re­sources throughout the land, and it could not sustain a monopoly on the conduct ofinternational relations. By the early nineteenth century, powerful underlying tensions,both socioeconomic and ideological, had signiﬁcantly weakened the political and so­cial control of the Tokugawa rulers.

2Social and Economic Transformations

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The formal status order of the Tokugawa system hardly changed for over two centu­
ries. But this structure of political institutions rested on shifting socioeconomic ground.
Two centuries of economic growth and social change eroded the boundaries between
status groups and generated new tensions among the primary status groups of farmerand samurai. These tensions produced intense pressures for reform.
How intense? Was Tokugawa Japan a society on the verge of revolution by theearly 1800s? Almost certainly not. In the absence of the turmoil generated by a re­newed Western presence, the Tokugawa regime might well have endured for decades
beyond the 1860s. But it is equally true that the reach and rapidity of the modernizing
projects of the new Meiji regime owed much to gradual earlier changes in the culturaland socioeconomic spheres, as well as to growing calls for reform in late Tokugawa
times. The chemistry of Japan’s nineteenth-century revolution involved a powerfulreaction between external catalysts and internal elements.

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Cities throughout the Japanese islands were growing in size and number in the six­teenth century on the eve of the Tokugawa uniﬁcation. Contending military rulers (thedaimyō) fueled this urban growth by pulling their samurai warrior followers into
semipermanent garrisons in castle towns. In addition to samurai, these towns were
populated by service personnel: quartermasters, artisans, and traders clustered aroundthe fortresses.1
But the fortunes of the daimyō waxed and waned in the power struggles andwarfare of the late 1500s. The foundation of these towns and their merchants was
similarly shaky. Not until the Tokugawa regime consolidated its hold and gave newstability to the federated domains of the land did urban centers became more stable.
When this happened in the seventeenth century, an unprecedented ﬂourishing of cities
and of commerce resulted. In most domains, the samurai become permanent citydwellers. Even a small domain’s castle town would have about ﬁve thousand samurai
residents, living on salaries and spending it all in the city.
A single innovation was most responsible for promoting both urbanization andthe economic integration of separate domain economies with Osaka and Edo. This20

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Social and Economic Transformations

TABLE 2.1 Major Cities circa 1720
City

Population

Tokyo
Osaka

1,000,000
382,000

Kyoto
Kanazawa
NagoyaNagasaki

341,000
65,00042,00042,000

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Source: Sekiyama Naotarō, Kinsei Nihon no jinkō kōzō:
Tokugawa jidai no jinkō chōsa to jinkō jōtai ni kansuru
kenkyū (Tokyo: Yoshikawa Kōbunkan, 1969).

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was the system of alternate attendance (sankin kōtai). Without it, the domains werelikely to have developed as independent small states. The rural periphery of eachcastle town would have supplied the center in a self-contained local economy. Eco­nomic interaction between domains would have been relatively limited.
The population centers in domain castle towns did in fact develop economic links
to their rural hinterlands. But in addition, the travel and residence requirements of
the alternate attendance system promoted a massive trafﬁc across domain borders in
people, in cash, and in goods and services. The attendance system drained the coffersof the daimyō, who paid for the travel. But it led to expanded interregional trade andspecialized local production for distant city markets, above all those of Edo andOsaka.
The Tokugawa capital of Edo was the largest urban center and the regime’s ad­
ministrative center. It was dominated by the grand castle of the shogun and by a huge
population of both Tokugawa and domain samurai, forced to live in attendance on the
shogun. Nearly as large, and more caught up in contests of getting and spending, wasthe Tokugawa commercial hub of Osaka. Driving the city’s economy were a dozen
or more leading rice traders. They handled the businesses of converting rice paid astaxes from throughout Japan into cash, which the daimyō could then disburse to theirsamurai retainers stationed in Edo; the traders also then sold the rice to city-dwelling
consumers.
Both these cities, and the roads between them, teemed with life. One witness tothis was Englebert Kaempfer, a German doctor who served as physician at the Dutch
trading outpost in Nagasaki. He journeyed to Edo as part of the annual Dutch tribute
missions in 1691 and 1692.
The country is populous beyond expression, and one would scarce think it possible,that being no greater than it is, it should nevertheless maintain and support such avast number of inhabitants. The highways are in almost continuous rows of villages
and boroughs: you scarce come out of one, but you enter another; and you may travel
many miles, as it were, without knowing it to be composed of many villages.2

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A bird’s-eye view of Edo, the Tokugawa bakufu’s capital city, in 1809. Mount Fuji stands
snowcapped in the background. The shogun’s castle is in the upper right, with daimyō andother samurai residences forming a ring around the castle moat. Commoner quarters, mainly
for merchants, shopkeepers, and artisans, are in the foreground. The Sumida River runs
across the bottom, marking the edge of the city at that time.
Courtesy of Tsuyama City Museum.

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Social and Economic Transformations

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Nihonbashi (literally, Bridge of Japan), the central point in the city of Edo, in 1640. This
painting nicely conveys the bustle of commerce and crowds in the capital. Boats passing be­neath the bridge carry wood, rice, ﬁsh, and other commodities. Walking above is a great mix
of samurai, commoners, monks, and street performers.

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Courtesy of the Idemitsu Art Museum.

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They were also crowded and dirty places. The commoner districts of Edo in the 1700s
were even more densely populated than residential portions of Tokyo in the late twen­tieth century, one of the world’s most crowded cities.
Overall, by 1700, roughly 5 or 6 percent of Japanese people lived in cities withpopulations greater than 100,000. Europe at this time was less than half as urban by
this measure; only 2 percent of Europeans lived in cities of this size. If we deﬁnecities to include smaller places, the extent of urbanization is equally impressive. By
1700 about 10 percent of the people of Japan, or about three million people, lived intowns or cities of over 10,000 inhabitants. Edo, with its million souls, was the largest
city in the world. Kyoto and Osaka, each with about 350,000 residents, were com­parable to London or Paris. By any measure, Japan was one of the most urban societies
in the world in 1700.
The growth of cities had several profound economic effects. For one, an infra­
structure of transportation and communications was created and maintained both tosupply the city-dwellers with material goods and to allow the huge parades of daimyō,
each accompanied by hundreds of followers, to move back and forth.

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C R ISIS O F T H E T O K U G A W A R EGI M E

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Overland transport and travel were facilitated by an extensive road system. Twomain roads linked Edo to Kyoto and then Osaka, the Tōkaidō route along the sea andthe Nakasendō trail though central Japan’s mountains. Other spokes radiated in all
directions from Edo to points north, south, and west. To lodge these travelers, networks
of inns sprung up. Equivalent in status and luxury to ﬁve-star hotels were the ﬁftythree ofﬁcially designated inns along the Tōkaidō route for daimyō and top samurai
travelers, while commoners put up with humbler accommodations. When daimyō at­
tendance processions crossed paths with the many commoners on various commercial
errands or on pilgrimages to shrines, the bustle was considerable.

This detail from a landscape print of the 1840s by the renowned artist Hokusai conveys asense of the trafﬁc on the main overland routes in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centu­
ries, prompted by growth in local manufacturing and interregional trade as well as travel.
Courtesy of Keio University.

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Social and Economic Transformations

Travel became so common by the late eighteenth century that a lively publishingindustry developed to produce maps, travel diaries, and the Tokugawa equivalent of
the modern travel guidebook. Some of the advice offered by one travel writer in 1810
seems quite familiar to the contemporary tourist: “[L]odge only at well-establishedinns. . . . [E]ven when you are hungry, do not overeat. . . . [D]rink only clean water.
Do not drink carelessly from an old pond or a mountain spring.” Other advice
concerned particular status groups only. Ordinary samurai were reminded that “whenretiring for the night, put your sword or swords under the bedding. Halberds orlances should be placed by your side.” Highly ranked travelers could ﬁnd sensible
tips on “preventing sickness when riding in a palanquin,” such as drinking “boilingwater to which has been added some juice squeezed from the ginger root.” But ofgreatest interest to historians are bits of advice that reveal how Tokugawa society wasmarked by a particular status order and a particular concern to respect the rules ofthat order:

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Guests at an inn should enter the bath in the order arranged by the staff. Yet sometimes
a difﬁcult situation arises when the inn is busy and the order for bathing becomes
confused. On such occasions, examine the appearance of the other guests, and if there
is a person of high status among them, allow him to go ﬁrst. The question of who
will bathe before whom can easily lead to quarrels.3

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The roads moved things as well as people. To this end, a busy packhorse transportindustry sprung up, leading thousands of teamsters to jostle for road space with trav­
elers. Historians have analyzed the records of these shippers, which reveal the densityof economic activity by the 1700s. Consider, for example, the case of one main trans­
port center along the Nakasendō trail, the inland route from Edo to Kyoto. Numerous
secondary routes dotted with small towns and villages fed into the major “highway.”
At its midpoint stood the town of Iida. Roughly twenty-one thousand fully loaded
packhorses departed in a typical year, taking local products to distant markets. This
comes to sixty loads per day, every day of the year. If one assumes the teamsters
operated only in daylight, then we have about ﬁve packhorses per hour departing Iida.
And these precise records only cover business originating in this town. The volumeof through trafﬁc is estimated at ﬁve to ten times more. A popular saying in the 1700s,
probably just slightly exaggerated, claimed that one thousand horses a day passed
through. In this rather remote inland town, then, one must imagine trafﬁc jams in the
town center—and an active trade in scoops and shovels. Coastal shipping was actuallymore economical than overland hauling, and the cargo boat trade ﬂourished as well.
The cash needs of Edo-ites were huge. Daimyō from all over Japan had to get theirtax rice to market, convert it to cash, and get the cash to Edo to support their house­holds and attending samurai. Those in central and southwestern Japan used Osaka as
the port to which rice was shipped and sold to merchants. The river at the heart of
Osaka by the early eighteenth century was jammed with boat trafﬁc, and the shores
were lined with imposing merchant warehouses. The rice traders were the commercial
kingpins of their day. They loaned money to daimyō lords and accumulated great
fortunes.
In addition to people and things, an increasingly complex economy moved money,

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C R ISIS O F T H E T O K U G A W A R EGI M E

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and not just cash. The daimyō who sold their rice in Osaka needed the proceeds in
Edo. This led merchant houses to maintain branches in the capital. They would handover funds to a daimyō in Edo upon receipt of his tax rice in Osaka. The merchants
also began to issue these funds as credit in advance of the harvest. In essence, these
traders created a rice-futures market. In exchange for cash in advance, a daimyō would
issue a promissory note pledging expected tax rice to a merchant banker. These notes
could be bought and sold at prices that would ﬂuctuate in anticipation of the value ofthe harvested rice.
In this increasingly complex and productive economy, the cities were the magnets
for commerce, and the towns, roads, and seaways were the nodes and arteries of
economic life. The villages, in turn, provided most of the raw materials that wereconsumed and processed.
In important ways, the Tokugawa government stopped at the village gate. Only
rarely did samurai overseers or police reside in the village. Neither domain nor To­
kugawa governments imposed taxes directly on individual households. The entire vil­lage was assessed for taxes. The village headman and elders were responsible fordividing up the burden among the villagers. This left villagers relatively free to manage
their affairs and to produce for the market once they met their basic obligations ofrice tax.
In this situation, farmers improved their practices, and agricultural production andoutput grew substantially in the Edo era. Reliable general data do not exist, but pro­duction records that survive for individual ﬁelds show that output in the 1700s andearly 1800s sometimes doubled over a ﬁfty-year span.4 Behind these gains lay not somuch new technologies as slight improvements and better diffusion and use of existing
ones. Some changes were as simple as the increased use of hoes and better tools forthreshing. In addition, farmers adopted more productive strains of seed rice. They
made more use of fertilizers such as ground dried herring. And they improved their
irrigation systems through greater use of water-ladders.
One underlying change that made this diffusion of better practices possible wasliteracy. Educated samurai, as well as some priests and farmers (including quite a few
women), began to offer classes to country people at unofﬁcial schools. These typically
met at Buddhist temples in villages. More and more children of farmers learned toread, both boys and girls. Improvement-minded farmers began to write “how-to” man­uals describing effective agricultural techniques. These circulated widely from theseventeenth century onward. Estimates vary, but it seems that between one-third andone-half of Japanese men and perhaps one-ﬁfth of women were literate by the early
1800s.5
With peace, and with rising output on the land, the population of Japan grew
sharply in the 1600s. No reliable national censuses were taken, but the combinationof scattered temple records and records of tax yields suggests that from 1600 to 1720
the agricultural population grew from about 18.5 million to 26 million farmers. If one
adds in about 7 million city-dwellers and nonfarmers—merchants, artisans, and samu­
rai families—the total reaches the vicinity of 33 million. The population appears tohave nearly doubled in about 120 years, an impressive sustained growth rate of 0.8
percent each year.

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Social and Economic Transformations

RIDDLES OF STAGNATION AND VITALITY

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The economic and social evidence for the 150 years that followed this seventeenthcentury boom presents an apparent riddle of simultaneous stagnation and vitality. On
the negative side of the ledger, one is ﬁrst struck by the shrinking of the largest cities
in the heart of the main island, castle towns in particular. Data available from thirtyseven major castle towns show an average loss of population of 18 percent from 1700
to 1850. Cities in the economically advanced southwestern provinces suffered the most
severe population loss. The only growing towns were in remote locations.6
In addition, overall population growth came to a virtual halt between the 1720s
and 1860s. Several devastating famines killed thousands in the late 1700s. In theTenmei famine of 1786, the worst weather in decades led to crop failures, starvation,

Water-ladders such as this, which allowed farmers to irrigate ﬁelds more effectively, wereamong the technologies that spread in the Tokugawa era, allowing agricultural productivity
to rise.
Courtesy of the library of the Historiographic Institute, University of Tokyo.

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C R ISIS O F T H E T O K U G A W A R EGI M E

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and deserted villages. Reports reached the cities of unburied corpses piling up, andeven of cannibalism. Again, in the 1830s, widespread famines were chronicled, which
generated death tolls from hunger and related disease in the tens or even hundreds ofthousands in some prefectures. The detail of the reports is convincing: People wereThis painting conveys something of the devastation of the Tenmei famine of the 1780s. An
emaciated mother chews leather as her child desperately seeks to nurse. Other family mem­bers chew leather or animal carcasses. The famine was caused by ﬂood, cold weather, andvolcanic eruptions, especially devastating in the northeast of the main island of Honshu. Tensof thousands died of starvation.
Courtesy of the National Archives of Japan.

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Social and Economic Transformations

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eating leaves and weeds or even straw raincoats; ofﬁcials were issuing directives giving
peasants permission to bury the dead without waiting for ofﬁcial permission.
Beyond famine, one puzzling and disturbing phenomenon was the practice ofinfanticide. For reasons that remain controversial to this day, it was apparently notunusual for farming families to abandon or kill unwanted infant children, both boys
and girls. Both moralists at the time, and most historians until the 1970s, viewed
infanticide as the last resort of desperate peasants. But careful analysis of demographic
records such as temple registers suggests another interpretation. At least in some vil­lages, evidence of infanticide is stronger for the wealthier farmers. It may have been
a form of family planning taken not only by the poorest to avoid starvation but also
by successful farmers to prevent numerous offspring from carving a stable homestead
into tiny units that could not support a family.7
In the face of these trends, complaints from the cities mounted in number andintensity. Samurai ofﬁcials viewed famines and infanticide as evidence of the moral
failings of the rulers as well as the ruled. The elite was failing in its obligation toleaven hierarchy with enough benevolence to allow peasants at least to survive (andpay taxes). Closer to home, living costs for city-dwelling daimyō and samurai
mounted. Few domains successfully increased revenues to cover these costs, eventhough they could have more aggressively taxed the rising output of the peasants.
Daimyō and samurai instead took loans from merchant houses, and often had trouble
repaying them. By the early nineteenth century, the world seemed out of joint to thebureaucratized samurai elite. Laments like the following were common:

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Today’s samurai have lived in luxury for nearly two hundred years . . . and have seen
no ﬁghting for ﬁve or six generations. Their military skills have disappeared, and . . .
seven or eight out of ten of them are as weak as women.8

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The city merchants were little happier. The shogun and leading daimyō had thepolitical clout to simply repudiate their debts. They did this with fair regularity. Mer­
chants had little recourse but to swallow the loss and issue new loans. Of equal
concern, upstart rural producers were competing effectively with the ofﬁcially certiﬁed
urban purveyors of goods and services. One 1789 complaint comes from the city ofOkayama, a castle town with about twenty thousand commoners and a sharply de­clining population:
Commerce in this city has steadily declined and many small merchants ﬁnd themselvesin great difﬁculty. On the other hand, ships from other provinces stopping at places
such as Shimoshii Village and Saidaiji Village have steadily increased, bringing tradein the country to a ﬂourishing condition. People used to come into the castle-townfrom the surrounding area to shop, but now people from the castle-town go to thecountry to shop. Country shopkeepers used to come to the towns to receive goods on
consignment, but now town shopkeepers send agents to the country to arrange to
receive goods on consignment. . . . Farmers and tradesmen have exchanged positions.
Naturally this has impoverished many people in the town.9

Such reports, whether from samurai administrators, scholars, or city merchants,
reﬂect the anxiety of people offended at the violation of the natural hierarchy of the

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world as it ought to be. They also reveal that in the world as it was, the misfortunesof daimyō or ofﬁcially favored merchants were someone else’s gains. The Okayama
author’s lament that “farmers and tradesmen have exchanged positions” is a reaction
to the evidence on the other side of the economic ledger: A tremendous surge in rural
production and commerce took place in the eighteenth and early nineteenth century.
One document from a small town that tripled in size from 1757 to 1855 as itcame to specialize in weaving recounts that “weavers who came to make a living hired
women operatives to spin and weave, and people came crowding into the town fromother provinces, renting houses there and even in surrounding hamlets.”10 Other
sources describe weaving operations of thirty to ﬁfty to even one hundred employees.
A host of other industries developed throughout the countryside, including the
production of sake (rice wine) and food staples like miso, soy sauce, vinegar, reﬁnedoil, or dried fruits. In the spinning and weaving of silk, cotton, and rougher fabrics,
complicated networks of home-based production grew up. Brokers orchestrated as
many as a dozen steps in the production process, each with its network of specialized
producers. Similar production networks emerged for lacquerware, ceramics, or wooden
bowls for everyday use; for paper and paper products; for candles, rope, clogs, andfabric dyes; and for ornaments such as combs and hairpieces. By the 1800s these andmany other products had long ceased to be monopolized by city artisans or urban
markets. This change can be called the “proto-industrialization” of the countryside. It
was deﬁned by an increased scale of operations and specialized production networks
serving long-range markets. These networks were deeply embedded into the ruralsociety and economy. A signiﬁcant and growing minority of the rural population, both
men and women, began to work for wages outside of the family in a variety of
manufacturing endeavors. Some concluded annual or seasonal contracts. Others be­came part of a casual daily-wage labor force.
This economic development sometimes set upstart rural producers against estab­lished city traders and artisans. At the same time, within the countryside it set a
prospering, entrepreneurial upper crust against embattled smallholders or tenant farm­ers. The latter struggled to survive in a world of increased danger as well as
opportunity.
In Tokugawa Japan poorer peasants had few effective means of legally protesting.
If taxes or debts were too high, they could simply run off to another domain, andsome did. But this was a risky choice both legally and economically. Petitioning theauthorities for relief through proper channels was not illegal, but if the claim was
rejected the petitioner faced the risk of punishment. Any other form of petitioning
outside channels was illegal, as were all collective, mass actions. But such violationsof order took place, and they did so with increased frequency over time.
The trend was clearly toward more protests. These included mass petitions anddemonstrations as well as attacks on ofﬁcials or the wealthy. Over time, an important
shift took place toward more aggressive actions. The relatively passive act of literally
running away or the humble act of submitting a petition had together accounted fornearly half of all peasant “protests” from 1600 to 1650. By the ﬁrst half of the 1800s
these actions accounted for just 13 percent of all protests, while acts classiﬁed as“direct attacks” and “smashings” now accounted for 43 percent.11

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Social and Economic Transformations

TABLE 2.2 Peasant Protests, 1600–1867
YearsTotal Number of Protests

Protests per Year

1600–1700
1700–1800

420
1,092

4.2
10.9

1800–1850
1851–1867

814
373

16.2
21.9

Source: Stephen Vlastos, Peasant Protests and Uprising in Tokugawa Japan (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1986), p. 46.

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Some of these protests set rural producers angry at restrictions on commerce
against ofﬁcially privileged urban rivals. But many actions, in particular those called“smashings” in the slang of the day, took place within the countryside and within thepeasant class, as poor peasants attacked rich neighbors. The protesters often destroyed
the homes and looted the warehouses of successful farmer-producers. They sometimes
distributed the contents at a roughly calculated “fair price.” They rarely inﬂicted phys­
ical harm on people. Those on the receiving end of attacks were typically landlords,
moneylenders, traders, and manufacturers (often the same person ﬁlling several ofthese roles). They were the people, for example, who lent money at usurious rates tosmallholders seeking to cultivate mulberry trees and raise silkworms on the side.
Protests could arise if prices fell and loans could not be repaid. The smallholding
peasants were taking advantage of opportunities brought by the spread of trade andrural industry. Simultaneously, they feared the increased vulnerablity that came ascommerce and the market penetrated the village. They deeply resented the success ofwealthier farmers who took advantage of their position to charge high interest on loans
and proﬁt at the borrower’s expense.
In this social and economic world, one also found important tensions between
prescribed roles and evolving practice for men and women. The orthodox ideals of
Tokugawa society held that women should be kept ignorant and in the kitchen. The
classical statement of this attitude was a Chinese-inspired text called The Greater
Learning for Females. This manual has been attributed to a Confucian scholar, Kaibara
Ekiken, writing in the 1670s. It may well have been written by someone else, perhaps
even Ekiken’s wife, who was herself a scholar. Whoever wrote it, the work circulated
widely. It contained nineteen chapters offering general principles for educating womenand speciﬁc injunctions to submissive behavior. As one scholar notes, “[the author]
proclaimed that female genitalia, while necessary for the reproduction of male heirs,
were linked to dull-wittedness, laziness, lasciviousness, a hot temper, and a tremendous
capacity to bear grudges.”12
Social practice often deﬁed such harsh prescriptions. Women played crucial pro­ductive roles both within the household economy, as they had in the past, and outside
it. They occasionally acted as managers or co-managers of wealthy farming households
and of merchant or artisan establishments in the towns. Women in more modest peas­
ant families would take in piecework tasks such as spinning or weaving from rural

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textile brokers, and city-dwelling women took in piecework as well. In addition, young
women often left home as wage laborers on seasonal or longer term contracts. As inearlier times, girls from wealthy farm families worked as domestic servants in thenoble households of Kyoto, and those from impoverished homes worked as prostitutes
in city or town brothels. In such cases, the parents would receive substantial advances
against expected wages. Their daughters were obliged to work off the debt of thesecontracts over periods of from three to six years.
Other jobs for women outside the home were new variations on this theme. Muchof the labor force in the ﬂourishing spinning and weaving centers of the countryside
was female. These workers, like those in the sex trade, often traveled considerable
distance and lived at their work sites. They resided in small weaving establishmentsthat contracted in advance with the parents for stints of a season or more. All these
forms of wage labor—in homes, brothels, and factories—were to endure and to playa central role in the later economic and social history of modern Japan.
Men outside the upper ranks of the samurai were also a good bit more ﬂexible
in their daily practice than the ideology of gender separation and hierarchy mightsuggest. Both Tokugawa and early Meiji evidence shows that they played an activerole in child care and housework. The written injunctions of a wealthy merchant to
his son in 1610 included orders to handle tasks such as preparing food for servants,buying and storing ﬁrewood, and sorting garbage: “If a man does not take thesetroubles upon himself, he can never run a household successfully.”13 The household
was both a workplace and a residence, and domestic labor was not tightly cordoned
off as a female sphere of activity. An American traveler in 1878, Isabella Bird, wroteof an early morning rural scene of “twelve or fourteen men sitting on a low wall,
each with a child under two years in his arms, fondling and playing with it, andshowing off its physique and intelligence.”14
How does one reconcile the undeniable evidence of famine and infanticide, of
population decline in cities and large towns, and of increased social protests withequally strong evidence of social vitality and expanding rural trade and manufacturing?
We can reconcile these conﬂicting bodies of evidence ﬁrst by recognizing the uneven
distribution of resources between and within classes and between regions. A second
factor explaining the divergent fate of social classes and regions was the relatively
limited integration of the Tokugawa economy into Asia-wide or global trading
networks.
Cities declined while smaller towns prospered. These country places had several
advantages. They were located near raw materials and water power, close to growing
rural markets, and close enough to city markets. They were sustained by tight networksof personal relations among traders and producers. These links were important tostable economic relations in the absence of systematic commercial law. They beneﬁted
from the ability of rural workers to shift between farming and other occupations. They
were free from the taxes and guild restrictions that hampered city merchants moreclosely under the watch of Tokugawa or domain authorities. Within the countryside
as well, some regions did better than others. In particular, rural production and tradeproliferated most extensively in regions from central Honshu southwest to northern
Kyushu, while northern Honshu lagged behind.

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Social and Economic Transformations

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The ﬂourishing of some portions of the countryside at the expense of cities offers
an interesting contrast to the experience of Europe in the 1600s and 1700s. There, therural economy tended to grow, but urban centers did not simultaneously decline. The
difference lies in the surging foreign trade that Europeans pursued so aggressively. It
added to urban employment, allowed food imports, and seems to have encouraged
overall population growth as well as migration to cities.
In Tokugawa Japan, international trade was only of modest importance. Japanesein the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries did export considerable volumes of silkand copper to China through the port of Nagasaki, as well as large amounts of silver
to Korea. This trade supported employment in the vicinity of Nagasaki, in mining
regions, and in silk-producing areas from Kyushu in the south to Kyoto and Osaka incentral Japan. Even so, Japan’s foreign trade did not play a role as an engine of
economic and urban growth to the extent that it did in Europe over the same centuries.
Instead, an inward-focused and rurally focused growth took place.
Economic fortunes varied by class as well as by region. As the economy became
more complex and productive, it offered both opportunities and risks. This was aprocess of change in which the harsh consequences of failure were not buffered bysystematic social welfare policies. Instead, the disparities of wealth and power invillages grew wider. The rural upper crust became more literate and mobile. Rich
farmers had land and cash to invest. They had the education and information to makebetter decisions.
Tokugawa society was never egalitarian. Toward the end of this era, reformers
sometimes put forward the notion that the early age of Ieyasu was a golden era whenvillages were populated by family farmers of equal means. This was a myth. Its
proponents were often rebels seeking to “rectify” a world that in fact had always
included impoverished villagers dependent on the benevolence of domain lords orvillage leaders for tax relief or loans to survive lean years. But dependent villagers of
the early Tokugawa era tended to be servants or branch family members. Their poverty
was buffered by the patrons’ sense of an obligation to care for their charges.
Paternalistic benevolence did not vanish by the 1800s, but it seems to have becomeless reliable. Dependent commoners were increasingly connected to their betters by
wage labor contracts rather than kinship ties. They were more often in need of such
relief, but less able to count on it. The gradual but signiﬁcant rise in social protest
over the Tokugawa era was a response not to inequality in general, which was notnew, but to a new type of inequality, that of the market. Rulers and the wealthy wereattacked not so much for their status itself, but for a failure to exercise the duty of
benevolence understood to come with status.

3
The Intellectual World of Late Tokugawa

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Faced with widespread symptoms of distress and decline, from chronic daimyō andsamurai debt to devastating famine and increased instances of violent protests, bothrulers and ruled produced vigorous critiques of their changing world. The gist of suchstatements often looked backward as well as forward: Reform was needed to return
the world of the present to the better times of the past. Ironically, as is often the case,conservative reforms actually set in motion a chain of events that made a return tothat past impossible. To understand the cultural and intellectual ferment of late To­
kugawa times, one must begin by examining the ideal world that reformers wished torestore.

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IDEOLOGICAL FOUNDATIONS OF THE TOKUGAWA REGIME

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For any political order to endure as long as the Tokugawa system did, it cannot rely
solely on the coercive power of hegemon and henchmen. Authority has to be grounded
in an accepted concept of legitimate rule. Like all aspiring rulers, Oda Nobunaga andToyotomi Hideyoshi faced this ideological dilemma. They faced it, however, with aparticular intensity. Because they had used coercion so nakedly, they had greater thanusual need to convince people of the legitimacy of their rule. Both of these men, as
well as Tokugawa Ieyasu, sought to ground their authority upon religious as well as
secular symbols and ideals.
Nobunaga promoted himself as a divine ruler even as he went to war against
popular religious sects and killed tens of thousands. He demanded that samurai “ven­erate” him. In exchange he offered not only military but also divine protection.
He asserted that the service rendered in this life would beneﬁt a loyal vassal in thenext life. He issued proclamations demanding worship of him for those wishing togain wealth and happiness. He also came to present himself as the embodiment of“the realm” (tenka in Japanese, literally “under heaven”). Unlike earlier military he­gemons, he rejected a shogunal position because this would have placed him sym­
bolically subordinate to the emperor as recipient of imperial conﬁrmation. He had
vassals use the phrase “for the tenka, for Nobunaga” in their pledges of loyalty. He
thus identiﬁed himself with the realm, which was itself deﬁned in terms of being all
under heaven. He claimed sovereignty in a way that was similar to, but pre­34

The Intellectual World of Late Tokugawa

35

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dated, Louis XIV of France, with his famous declaration that “I am the state” (“l’état,c’est moi”).
Hideyoshi shared this tendency for self-deiﬁcation. He hosted the emperor as anequal at his palace in Kyoto. His consort was made equal in status to the emperor’smother. The status of his son was made that of the emperor’s son. He also presented
the Korean invasions as sacred national campaigns, replete with ceremonies at a
Shinto shine. Although the Shinto religious tradition sees blood as a source of grave
pollution, Hideyoshi sponsored a “blood festival” in his own honor. In death he ar­ranged for construction of a shrine to himself, as Great August Deity, with nation­
wide branches.
The Tokugawa clan continued these programs of personal deiﬁcation that rivaled
the sacred claims of the imperial court. Ieyasu controlled and dictated even the petty
behavior of the court families, and he received foreign embassies in their presence.
Iemitsu, for his part, in 1634 made a grand procession to the emperor’s home city of
Kyoto with 309,000 men.
Tokugawa Ieyasu also built the grand shrine at Nikkō. In the twentieth century
this has become one of Japan’s premier tourist sights, but Ieyasu was not seeking
tourist yen or dollars. He sought self-deiﬁcation in the overstated, baroque traditionof his immediate predecessors. He knew of Nobunaga’s glorious Azuchi Castle, de­stroyed shortly after Nobunaga’s death, and he consciously sought to wipe out andreplace Hideyoshi’s shrine network. He speciﬁed that he was to be buried at Nikkō.
In a symbolic move of posthumous politics this shrine was located at the same dis­
tance from his Edo castle as the Grand Imperial Shrine at Ise was from the imperial
palace in Kyoto. He claimed for himself the posthumous name of “Great Incarnation,
Shining Over the East.” The phrase invoked both the Buddhist concept of reincarna­tion and the Shinto image of brilliant light. He also made himself into an Asia-wide,
even universal, god: In Iemitsu’s time Korean embassies paid their respects at Nikkō,
as did ofﬁcial delegates from the Ryūkyū Islands, and even the Dutch. In location, in
ritual use, and in nomenclature, Iemitsu was seeking to displace Ise as the premiersacred political symbol in the land. In 1645 he elevated the Nikkō Shrine to the levelof a gū, the same term used for Ise. Imperial messengers were forced to pay respects
at Nikkō, not vice versa.
While the Tokugawa bolstered their claim to rule by seeking to symbolically de­
ify the persons of the rulers, they also anchored their legitimacy in philosophicalclaims of religious and secular traditions. From diverse sources in the ﬁrst century of
Tokugawa rule, there emerged broad agreement on several core ideas concerning theproper political and social order. First, hierarchy is natural and just. Second, selﬂess
service and accepting one’s place within a hierarchical society are great virtues.
Third, Tokugawa Ieyasu was the great sage founder, source of all wisdom. The order
he created was said to be rooted in the order of the cosmos.
A complicated mixture of Buddhist, Shinto, and neo-Confucian elements under­
lay this ideological synthesis. A samurai-turned-Zen priest named Suzuki Shōsan(1579–1655) was one source of this ideology. He argued that the present life was anoccasion to repay obligations to benefactors (lord, parents). One existed not for one­self, but for lord and society. One served them by observing one’s proper place. Su­
zuki enjoined commoners to follow their “calling” through motivated performance of36

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their daily work. The result, he taught, would be salvation in the next life. A Shinto
cleric named Yamazaki Ansai (1618–82) searched the Shinto tradition for a “Japaneseway” of thought to explain the world he knew. He used numerology to argue for aparallel or correspondence between teachings of the ancient Japanese gods and theChinese sages, and from this he built an argument in favor of the Way of theTokugawa.1
Finally, numerous thinkers, in an increasingly diverse and contentious intellectual
world by the end of the 1600s, drew on neo-Confucian ideas to educate rulers andruled on the character of the just political order. Since medieval times, the neoConfucian ideas of Zhu Xi, stressing the importance of direct reading of ancient Con­
fucian texts, had been studied in Japan primarily by Buddhist monks. An important
new academy in Edo began to change this. It was founded by Fujiwara Seika and his
follower Hayashi Razan. These men convinced the bakufu to support their endeavors
in the form of an ofﬁcially favored think tank. In 1630 the bakufu provided funds fortheir buildings, centered on a “Sages Hall” to honor Confucius that opened in 1633.
In 1670, the Hayashi academy was ofﬁcially recognized as a shogunate university. As
secular scholars, the Hayashi came into conﬂict with Ieyasu and Iemitsu’s Buddhist
advisors. They disapproved of promoting Confucian learning beyond their monaster­ies. The Hayashi scholars succeeded in challenging the intellectual primacy of mon­asteries, but from the outset they faced challenges themselves from rival secularscholars and academies. In this process, much scholarship in Japan was brought into
a secular realm in which the students were not only samurai but also well-to-do com­moners. The Hayashi scholars and their rivals stressed the practical value of knowl­edge as they mobilized Confucian ideas to support the state.
At the heart of the neo-Confucian synthesis developed by these thinkers was
the principle of reason, or ri. This immutable natural law was said to be the basisof all learning and conduct. It permeated the physical universe and the social worldof humans as well; thus laws of nature and laws of society had the same meta­
physical basis. Chinese and Japanese neo-Confucianists both counseled the active“investigation of things” of the physical and social world to discover the role ofprinciple in it. Observation was said to conﬁrm that ri governed the relations of theheavenly bodies. It placed earth at the base, the sun above, and the stars in motion
around both. Similarly, the ruler stood above, the people at the base. All humans, aswell, had proper relations to each other: father-child, husband-wife, ruler-subject,
friend-friend, sibling-sibling. In Japan speciﬁcally, the shogunal ruler was said tostand above the rest of the people. The emperor, descended from the supreme heav­
enly body, the sun, delegated power to him. The people—in the four primary stat­uses of samurai, farmer, artisan, and merchant—stood below him, with samurai as
aides to ruling power. Early in the Tokugawa era, this order of things was literally
and ﬁguratively enshrined as the sacred creation of the sage Ieyasu. The ﬁrst goalof all Tokugawa reformers—even those from opposed philosophical traditions—wasto sustain it.

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37

CULTURAL DIVERSITY AND CONTRADICTIONS

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The neo-Confucian synthesis represented the world of nature and of humans as seam­less and orderly. In fact, numerous Japanese people of the Tokugawa era, including
Confucian scholars themselves, understood their world as a complex place. The pieces
did not always ﬁt together; human desires and political loyalties might oppose ortho­
dox notions of the proper society. As they explored these contradictions, an expanding
body of participants invigorated and diversiﬁed the intellectual and cultural life, bothin cities and in the countryside, among commoners and the samurai elite. Debate began
in the 1660s, just as neo-Confucian teachings were being validated with bakufu pa­
tronage. The debate continued for nearly two hundred years. A wide variety of indi­viduals and schools argued over the proper interpretation of Confucianism. Those
working within the Confucian tradition also faced challenges from scholars drawing
on entirely different schools of thought.
The school of Ancient Learning (Kogaku) was perhaps the most signiﬁcant chal­lenge to neo-Confucian thought from within the tradition of scholarship that sought
to interpret Confucius for the present era. A series of great scholars elaborated theAncient Learning ideas. The most famous was Ogyū Sorai (1666–1728). The school
derived its name from the insistence that proper knowledge rested on unmediatedunderstanding of the ancient texts of Confucius himself. They argued that neoConfucian interpretations of Zhu Xi, or his followers in Korea, China, or Japan, hadfailed to understand the true meaning of old words. This position is rather ironic. Zhu
Xi’s own point of departure in the 1100s was also a call to ignore intervening inter­
pretations and return directly to the ancient Confucian texts.
Sorai revered Confucius and the ancient Chinese kings who built political insti­
tutions upon Confucian ideas. He stressed that the samurai needed to model their
behavior on the ancient Confucian rulers by cultivating virtue and devotion to duty.
He asked them to model present-day institutions on the ancient systems as well. At
the same time, Sorai recognized that the “way,” or the political-ethical order, of theearly kings was something they themselves had created by virtue of their high intel­
ligence and insight. It was not directly imposed by divine sources. This implicitly
opened the way for rulers in later ages, such as Tokugawa Japan, to make appropriate
adjustments, provided they based these on proper understanding of ancient texts, rit­uals, and institutions.
At issue for Sorai, his contemporaries, and their successors was the problem of
how to justify creative political action and institutional innovation. Society was man­ifestly changing before their eyes, but it was supposed to be rooted in ancient ideas
and practices. Sorai was committed to the support of a timeless and changeless “way”
that originated in ancient China. As a shogunal advisor in the early 1700s, some ofhis policy proposals called on the bakufu to adopt ancient Chinese tax systems orbureaucracies. But he was also enough of a realist to argue that rulers of his own timeshould take some innovative steps such as allowing peasants to buy and sell land.2
By the early 1700s, merchants joined samurai scholars such as Sorai in the active
study and critique of both ancient texts and the contemporary world. In Osaka andits environs, in particular, a number of academies emerged under commoner patronage.

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C R ISIS O F T H E T O K U G A W A R EGI M E

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The most important, given ofﬁcial status by the Tokugawa rulers, was called the Kai­
tokudō Merchant Academy. Recent study of the Kaitokudō scholars has changed thelongstanding view among historians that the Tokugawa merchant class accepted asubordinate place in a Confucian status order and made no claim to a political role.
The Kaitokudō scholars in fact argued that politics and economics were inseparable.
They placed samurai and merchants in functionally equivalent roles; the former wereto run the bureaucratic administration, while the latter managed economic affairs thatwere of importance to the entire society.
To be sure, the Kaitokudō intellectuals did not challenge the samurai’s right torule. One cannot make a simple analogy between Tokugawa merchant thinking andthat of the European urban bourgeoisie that began to oppose aristocratic power in theeighteenth century. But these Tokugawa era teachings did emphasize the interdepend­ence and relative equality of virtue and public function between merchants and bu­
reaucrats. Such notions formed an important part of a cultural world that lived on into
later times, when country and city merchants alike became captains of industry ded­icated to enriching the nation as well as themselves.3
Part of the cultural ferment of Tokugawa times played out not only among strait­
laced samurai-scholars, or in equally sober academies supported by merchants, butalso in the entertainment quarters of the great cities, especially Osaka and Edo. Here,theaters and book shops stood beside teahouses and brothels. Here, samurai mixed
with commoners in the audience of puppet and Kabuki plays. The scripts of theseplays drew on scandalous gossip and ﬂamboyant crimes to address profound themesof the conﬂicts between duty and desire, between public law and private loyalty.
The Tokugawa era cities were home to ﬂourishing prose ﬁction, poetry, and pic­
torial arts that celebrated the lives of commoners and rogues and gently challenged
the high-minded moralists of established order. Ihara Saikaku, for example, wrote
popular ﬁction that poked fun at religion, at merchants and their greed, and at humandesires. His works focused on people at the bottom of society and made heroes andheroines of them. In “The Woman Who Loved Love” he offers a wicked parody ofthe search for religious truth by telling the story of a courtesan’s search for the ideal
lover. The ﬁnal episode has the courtesan standing at a temple, gazing at one hundredﬁgures of the Buddha, each one reminding her of a former lover. Another Edo writerwith a different sort of critical sensibility was the poet Matsuo Bashō (1644–1694).
His elegant haiku celebrated the natural world and a vanishing past. Resident in thegreat city, his work nostalgically appreciated the quiet countryside to which he peri­
odically escaped.
an old pond . . .
a frog leaps in,
the sound of water

furuike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto4

An unprecedent market for literature and art also sustained the Tokugawa cultural
product perhaps best known outside Japan today, the woodblock print, or ukiyo-e. The
term literally translates as “pictures of the ﬂoating world.” The term “ﬂoating world”
referred to the ephemeral entertainments of the world of brothels and theaters. As
woodblock art began to ﬂourish in the middle of the Tokugawa era, prints of famous
courtesans and star Kabuki actors were produced in huge numbers. The painters them­

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The Intellectual World of Late Tokugawa

His

Woodblock landscape prints became very popular and sophisticated in the late Edo era. Thisview of “Evening Snow at Uchikawa” is by the renowned print artist Hiroshige, from 1835
or 1836.

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Courtesy of Keio University.

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selves became luminaries of the cultural scene. Later print artists also turned to thegenre of the landscape. They produced many celebrated works that paralleled in pic­
torial form Bashō’s exploration of the countryside. Prints were also frequently inte­
grated with text; one inspiration for the twentieth century comic book (manga) was
probably the printmaking of the Tokugawa era.
Two theatrical traditions emerged at the heart of urban cultural life: the Kabuki
and the bunraku puppet theater. The former began as a means by which prostitutes,
male and female, drew crowds who might be enticed to purchase sexual services aswell. Performances were often held in outdoor theaters in dry riverbeds, alongsidecarnival entertainments such as bear and tiger acts or sumo wrestling. In 1629, thebakufu banned female actors from the Kabuki in an effort to suppress prostitution.
Ironically, the Kabuki survived. Some say it improved as a result. It certainly became
more distinctive. The brilliant performances of female impersonators (the onna-gata)came to be the deﬁning highlight of the Kabuki theater. Here in the theater of theseventeenth and eighteenth centuries, one ﬁnds an early example of the postmodern
idea that gender identity is not ﬁxed in a person’s physical body, but is the changeable
result of performance.
The bunraku puppet theater was a second great innovation of Edo era culture.
Its “performers” were puppets of roughly two-thirds life size. Up to three men ma­
nipulated each puppet. A highly skilled singer-actor chanted the several parts andthe narration, backed by musical accompanists. The puppet theater was attractive to40

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writers since they had no uppity actors to deal with, and the literary qualities of theplays were developed beautifully. The greatest bunraku playwright was Chikamatsu
Monzaemon (1653–1725). His works were noteworthy for treating the tragic livesof common people, including scandalous contemporary events such as domestic
murders.
Chikamatsu brilliantly captured the tensions within Tokugawa thought and society.
His works often explore conﬂict between duty or obligation, on one hand, and humanfeeling on the other (giri versus ninjō). Love Suicide at Sonezaki, based loosely on areal story, tells of a paper seller who falls hopelessly in love with a prostitute. His
relatives criticize him and his business fails. He pawns his wife’s kimono to buy out
his lover’s contract. With his wife and family ready to disown him, he and his lover,torn by guilt as well as desire, run away to commit suicide. In the end, duty destroys
desire, but the audience is left to wish it had not.
Chikamatsu explored a similarly conﬂicted outcome with more immediate polit­
ical implications in The Tale of the 47 Rōnin (rōnin were samurai without a daimyō
or master to serve). Chikamatsu wrote a puppet theater version of the story in 1706.
In the 1740s, a Kabuki version was written, called Chūshingura, and this became themost frequently staged play of the Tokugawa era (it continues to be a hugely popu­
lar subject of cinema and stage in modern Japan). The puppet and Kabuki scripts
thinly disguised their origin in an actual incident of 1703 by relocating the events
several centuries earlier. The story celebrates the loyalty of samurai warriors whosemaster was disgraced and executed at the hands of a political enemy. To avenge thisact, they break the law by attacking and killing the nemesis of their former master.
As with the domestic tale of the Sonezaki suicide, the violation of law and order isultimately punished. The forty-seven retainers are required by the authorities to taketheir own lives as the price of their successful pursuit of personal revenge. But theseloyalists are heroes in death, both in the actual event and in the play, which exposeda crucial tension in the Tokugawa political world: To whom was ultimate loyalty
owed?
Playwrights and actors explored these tensions to the delight of large audiences.
Tokugawa political advisors and scholars sought to contain these cultural forms andto resolve the problems they explored. The entertainment quarters themselves werebounded by walls and physically isolated on the edges of town. Samurai were told
not to enter their gates. The bakufu and domains enacted what are called “sumptuarylaws” to keep social behavior in line with hereditary status. These orders restricted
the dress permitted to samurai of various ranks and to merchants and other common­
ers. They prescribed who could be carried around town in palanquin chairs. They
limited building size in accord with status and rank. Laws even regulated eating anddrinking habits, forbidding to farmers the unspeakable luxury of tea. Peasants were
to content themselves with hot water.
The fact that many of these injunctions were continually reissued is strong evi­
dence that many people ignored them. To this extent, the bakufu dictatorship had alimited reach. Nonetheless, the laws set a sober tone, and the tensions of this era haveechoes in recent times. As in many societies, a moralistic tendency to condemn lux­urious living and glorify austerity persists to the present day in Japanese cultural life

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and public policy. Yet, another side to popular culture celebrates the accumulation of
wealth and the stylish consumption of abundant goods.
The authorities also placed limits on subject matter appropriate for Kabuki, andthey regulated the times and numbers of performances. This was part of a broader
effort to contain the tensions of the Tokugawa order. Ogyū Sorai’s opinion to the
shogun on how to deal with the vendetta of the forty-seven rōnin addressed the tension
between the virtue of loyalty to a particular lord and the value of order to society as
a whole. He acknowledged that their deed was righteous. It was sparked by a proper
sense of shame—a determination “to keep oneself free from any taint.” Even so, he
concluded that laws for the entire country must be upheld, and the men must be
punished. An “act of violence without ofﬁcial permission” was intolerable. If “generalprinciples are impaired by special exceptions, there will no longer be any respect for
the law in this country.”5
Other tensions were ultimately impossible to contain. One was the conﬂict be­
tween merit and heredity. A Confucian ruler was qualiﬁed for his status by merit. In
China, merit was cultivated by study and conﬁrmed by an examination. Examinations
had been used in Japan in earlier centuries, but in the Tokugawa era the samurai faced
no such tests. They had a hereditary claim to rank and to income. Ofﬁcial appoint­ments were roughly pegged to these birthrights. For much of the Tokugawa era, people
made little effort to reconcile the contradiction between meritocratic principle andhereditary practice. Scholars and rulers alike preached the importance in principle ofrecruiting the wise and the strong to domain and bakufu ofﬁces. Yet hereditary rank
and family income continued to be the most important inﬂuence on a samurai’s career
path in practice.
As the perception deepened in the 1700s that society faced a crisis, complaints
increased about the failure of rulers to appoint “men of talent” to high ofﬁce. The
term “a daimyō’s skill” became an insult. Numerous thinkers in the 1700s and 1800s—
what one historian calls “merit reformers”—called on rulers to regenerate the system
by appointing men of talent. Their stated goal was to preserve and strengthen theexisting regime. But their critiques clearly implied that to deny men of talent indeﬁ­
nitely would threaten the legitimacy and survival of the ruler.6
A second ultimately subversive tension centered on the relationship of the emperor
to the shogun. On one hand, the Tokugawa rulers closely watched and supervised
court life. They used shrines such as that at Nikkō as well as foreign diplomacy tosymbolically assert a more or less independent source of legitimacy. But the emperor
in theory had appointed Ieyasu and his successors as shogun. Across the Tokugawa
centuries, aspiring political actors outside the Tokugawa ruling circle, and some on
the edges of it, sustained the idea that Tokugawa authority was delegated and condi­
tional. The Mito domain, for example, was a branch of the Tokugawa house. It waspotentially eligible to supply an heir to the shogun should the direct line fail. Its
daimyō of the late 1600s, Mitsukuni, would don court robes every New Year’s morningand bow toward Kyoto. He would tell his vassals, “My Lord is the emperor. The
present shogun is the head of my family.”7 Given such opinions, it was virtuallyinevitable that in a moment of great crisis those who lost faith in the Tokugawa rulers
would look to the emperor to support their insurgent acts.

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REFORM, CRITIQUES, AND INSURGENT IDEAS

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Beginning in the early 1700s, chronic debt and a belief that the regime faced a moral
as well as a ﬁscal crisis sparked the ﬁrst of several ofﬁcial drives to reform. Each was
shorter than the previous round. None had enduring impact. The eighth shogun, Yoshi­
mune, in ofﬁce from 1716 to 1745, presided over the ﬁrst of these campaigns, called
the Kyōhō reforms (after the reign name of the emperor at the time). From 1767 to
1786, the shogunal advisor Tanuma Okitsugu initiated a number of unorthodox eco­nomic reforms intended to expand government income. His proﬂigate habits gaveconservative opponents an opening to attack him. He was forced from ofﬁce in dis­grace. His nemesis and successor as chief shogunal advisor was Matsudaira Sadanobu.
He launched the Kansei reforms (1787–93). These aimed to stabilize consumer rice
prices, cut government costs, and increase revenues. The ﬁnal reform, of the Tempō
era (1841–43), had similar objectives. Although the bakufu’s measures were ineffec­
tive, reformers enjoyed some success in a few domains.
Two different approaches characterized these reforming endeavors. One might becalled “hardline Confucianism.” This was the spirit of Yoshimune’s reforms of theearly 1700s and Matsudaira’s brief efforts toward the end of the century. In addition
to praising austerity, railing against luxury, and cutting government costs, they sought
to shore up the status system by a policy of moral persuasion. Samurai were told bothto study harder and to commit themselves anew to the martial arts. Matsudaira prom­ised that those who proved their talent and diligence would be promoted to responsible
posts even if they were lower-ranked samurai. He also tried to eliminate unorthodox
ideas with an order in the 1790s that reafﬁrmed Zhu Xi Confucianism as the ofﬁcial
philosophy of the bakufu. This edict also put in place stricter censorship, including aban on pornography. It implemented a system of annual examinations at the shogunal
academy responsible for training top ofﬁcials. In theory, this opened the door to menof talent within the bakufu. In practice, the exams remained heavily biased against
samurai of humble origin.8
In contrast, the program of Tanuma Okitsugu, who preceded Matsudaira in the
bakufu from 1777 to 1786, and some of the subsequent Tempo era reforms of the
1830s, sought to encourage or exploit change. The spirit here is comparable to what
historians of Europe refer to as mercantilism, or policies by which the state promotes
economic development to bolster its power. Like Matsudaira, Tanuma promoted efforts
of farmers to reclaim land, which would expand the tax base. He went further thanhis predecessor, however. He promoted bakufu cooperation with merchants with thegoal of licensing or taxing their operations. He supported trade with China, hoping toexport ﬁnished goods in exchange for silver. He also encouraged science and trans­
lations of Western books.
The hardline effort to return to a golden past was ideologically attractive but not
feasible. The converse attempt to accept and proﬁt from change was practical, but it
was ideologically suspect and hard to justify. The Tokugawa rulers lacked the unity
or will to pursue such a course. Some of the outer domains proved more ﬂexible. This
left them in a good position to contend for power in the mid-nineteenth century crisis.
Calls for drastic reform were not limited to rulers and their advisors. Even in theThe Intellectual World of Late Tokugawa

43

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early 1700s, the spread of commerce and education fostered increasing ties between
literate merchants and samurai in cities and an upper crust of literate and prosperous
farmers in the country. This rural upper class had begun to develop an interest inpolitical and economic matters reaching beyond the village boundaries.
These families were the patrons of temple-based schools in the countryside. In
some cases they sent children to ofﬁcial domain academies that were mainly intended
for samurai. Once educated, these farmers—including a minority of women as wellas men—would correspond with teachers and writers in the cities concerning cultural
matters. They exchanged and evaluated Chinese poetry. They discussed ancient Jap­
anese literature or Confucian philosophy. They sent their children to be servants at
court families in Kyoto or at merchant houses in Osaka or Edo.
In a number of regions, such educated farmers became followers of a group of
intellectuals who formed the School of National Learning. One pioneer of this schol­
arly tradition was Motoori Norinaga (1730–1801). He was reacting in part to theextreme worship of Chinese thought in the work of men like Ogyū Sorai. He and his
followers shared Sorai’s reliance on ancient texts. Like Sorai, they used these texts onbehalf of contemporary critiques and calls for reform. But Norinaga asserted thatJapanese people should seek knowledge in their native genius, and not in alien Chinesesources.
Norinaga’s search for a pure Japanese culture led him back to the earliest Japanese
literature, including historical chronicles (the Kojiki, 712 c.e.) and prose ﬁction (theTale of Genji, eleventh century). He found in these works what he gloriﬁed as corevalues of the Japanese people: a sympathetic, emotional understanding of others andthe intuitive ability to distinguish good and evil without complex rationalization. He
exalted Shinto as a tradition of thought that posited a gradual continuum from humans
to gods. The latter inhabited a mysterious realm only just beyond human reach, notradically transcendent. The emperor, in such a vision, was a crucial being who me­
diated between the realms of spirit and humans.
The network of National Learning scholars and rural adherents expanded signif­
icantly in the early nineteenth century. Norinaga’s own work did not address politics
explicitly, but his followers, in particular Hirata Atsutane (1776–1842), politicized his
ideas in the early 1800s. They articulated ideals of loyalty to “Japan” that went beyond
the narrower loyalty to a daimyō and his domain, which made up the primary political
identity for most people in the Tokugawa era. Most inhabitants of Japan, that is,considered their domain to be their “country.” The word kuni, in fact, which in modern
times came to refer to a national unit (Japan), was applied to the domains of theTokugawa era. Hirata’s ideas looked beyond domain loyalty to a sort of nationalismthat characterized the responses of people to the Western powers in decades to come.
The network of registered Hirata disciples numbered 3,745 after his death in the
1850s.9 Many of these, in turn, stood as teachers and promoters of National Learning
doctrine to others.
Hirata exalted Japan as the land of the Shinto gods. He elevated Japan to a superior
place in the international order. He and his followers viewed external and internalsigns of distress as evidence that the current rulers were failing their obligations togods, emperor, and people. The supporters of National Learning did not lead the attack

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that overthrew the Tokugawa. But they formed part of a climate of opinion that madegreat upheaval and change—on behalf of a national entity that transcended the To­
kugawa system—more likely and easier to achieve.
One of the most profound and directly consequential critiques of the status quocame from scholars of the Mito domain, home to a potential rival branch of the ruling
Tokugawa line. The most important of these was Aizawa Yasushi (1782–1863), an
advisor to the Mito daimyō and the author of an incendiary text called the New Theses(Shinron). This work mixed an explicitly anti-Western message with an implicitly anti­
bakufu critique. Written in 1825, Aizawa’s text was secretly copied and circulated
among dissident samurai in the 1840s and 1850s.
The New Theses condemned the weakness of the ruling elite. Daimyō and their
top aides were said to be living in dissolute luxury. They had failed to prepare for theunprecedented foreign threat of Western ships, whose visits were increasing year by
year. The bakufu was condemned for keeping other domains weak to ensure its own
hegemony, thereby weakening the whole of Japan against outsiders. The populace wassaid to be gullible and disloyal. As Aizawa was fond of writing, the commoners were“stupid.” He was terriﬁed that Christian missionaries would easily be able to convert
the masses and destroy Japan’s essence as the land of the gods.
Aizawa wanted the rulers to recruit men of talent. He wanted them to reemphasize
morality for the people and serve as moral exemplars. These were relatively ordinary
proposals for a Tokugawa reformer. Aizawa also called for greater centralized power
to meet the common threat. The New Theses put forward this advice to enable theTokugawa to strengthen themselves and the entire realm. Despite this intent, the callfor greater reverence for the emperor and dramatic domestic reform to deal with theforeign threat was potentially subversive to the Tokugawa.
Knowledge produced in the West was called “Dutch learning” because the Dutch
traders in Nagasaki were its primary source. It was another source of potentiallytransforming ideas. The bakufu forbade the import of “Christian books” beginning in
the 1640s, but books on practical topics such as surgery or navigation were allowed,
and a small ﬂow of Western books, as well as Chinese translations, arrived in Japanover the following decades.10 This prohibition was relaxed in 1720. A modest traditionof Dutch-language scholarship of the West took root, primarily in Nagasaki. Its prac­titioners looked into Western natural science, medicine, and botany in particular andcompiled a dictionary and maps. This remained a disinterested academic study until
the 1840s, when the so-called Dutch scholars turned to study of military technology.
National Learning, the reformism of the Mito school, and Dutch-mediated West­ern learning appealed primarily to subelites of the rural upper crust and to educatedsamurai of middle to lower ranks. Its appeals were most powerful on the margins of
the Tokugawa order, in the countryside, in outer and collateral domains with tradi­tionally tense relations with the shogunate, or in far southern Nagasaki.
One other potentially subversive strand of thought was nurtured among poorer
peasants. It was expressed in the increased instances of rebellion mentioned in theprevious chapter and in powerful new religious movements. Several newly founded
popular religions of late Tokugawa times each won thousands of believers. These
include the Kurozumi (1814), Tenri (1838), and Konkō (1857) religions, among others.
Each was founded by a man or a woman who experienced a divine revelation or a

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miraculous cure. They drew diversely on Shinto or Buddhist elements. These religions
gained support from masses of peasants who had come to expect that a great change
was imminent. Such a change would “rectify the world” (yonaoshi) to a proper stateof equality and prosperity for all. Some religions counseled patient waiting for the
moment of renewal, but adherents might also be stirred to act to hasten the day ofsalvation in this world. The authorities viewed these groups with much anxiety.
In addition, the rural villagers of Tokugawa Japan cut loose in several astonishing
moments of mass pilgrimage. These were called okage-mairi or Ise-mairi, after the
Ise Shrine that was the destination of many of the pilgrims. Such events erupted atroughly sixty-year intervals through the Tokugawa period. They intensiﬁed sharply inthe last two iterations. Observers reported in 1771 that about two million peasantspacked their bags and took to the road to Ise. At the same time, reports circulated ofobjects such as Shinto shrine amulets—small good luck charms—ﬂoating down fromthe sky. This was repeated in 1830 on an even more extraordinary scale. Roughly ﬁvemillion people (in a country of perhaps thirty million) took to the road and visitedIse over a span of about four months. They jostled, sang, shouted, begged, and some­times stole from and fought with each other all the way to the shrine. Mass pilgrimage
was not in itself a revolutionary act, but it did heighten widespread expectations ofchange.

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In sum, one thread running through the work of many Tokugawa thinkers and critics
by the early 1800s was a widespread sense that the times were disjointed. Things
were not as they should be. Action was needed to set them right. Setting things rightgenerally meant returning to an idealized golden age of early Tokugawa times. Even
Aizawa Yasushi intended his work to help the bakufu regenerate itself. But only
slightly below the surface, many were drawn to the idea that an entity and interest
larger than the bakufu, centered on the emperor, should be the focus of reform. In a
dramatically new context created by Japan’s humiliating, coerced entry into a Westerndominated world order in the 1850s, these calls for action mixed with the discontent
and frustrated ambitions of many people. This proved to be a potent, increasingly
nationalistic brew, in which reforming ideas had revolutionary consequences.

4
The Overthrow of the Tokugawa

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In the decades around 1800, whalers, merchant ships, and gunboats from Europe andthe United States appeared in Japanese waters with alarming frequency, pressing theirclaims with increasing persistence. They were powerful symbols and emissaries of thecapitalist and nationalist revolutions that were just then transforming Euro-American
societies and reaching beyond to transform the world. In Japan they turned a chronic
low-grade crisis into an acute, revolutionary situation. For decades, the superintendentsof the Tokugawa order had been somehow muddling through. Shogun and daimyō
managed to handle the combined pressures of social discontent among peasants andsamurai and ﬁscal crisis in their own treasuries. Into this mix came heretofore un­
known foreign power—military, economic, and cultural—raising unprecedented de­mands for a new sort of international relationship. Suddenly the Tokugawa bakufu’s
very legitimacy was called into question.
Even so, for some time it appeared that the Tokugawa system might bend without
breaking. By the mid-1860s the bakufu had moved to remodel the military, adjust thebalance between domain and shogunal power, and import new technology. Foreign
diplomats divided their bets. The British were ofﬁcially neutral, but their chief rep­resentative maintained unofﬁcial ties with the insurgent outer domains, and some of
their merchants offered direct support. The French backed the Tokugawa reformers
seeking to superintend the process of integrating Japan into the Western diplomaticand economic order.
By hedging their bets the British turned out to be smarter gamblers. In the end,
the Tokugawa rulers had too much of an investment in the old order. Rulers of outerdomains were often cautious, as well, and they sometimes suppressed the rebels intheir domains. But at critical moments they supported the initiatives of new actors,
lower on the social scale. These were the “men of action,” self-styled heroes hoistinga banner to “honor the emperor and expel the barbarians.” They forced the Tokugawa
from power and then launched one of the great revolutions of modern history.

THE WESTERN POWERS AND THE UNEQUAL TREATIESThe ﬁrst harbingers of renewed Western interest in Japan came by land. Russian ex­
plorers had reached the far eastern shores of the vast Siberian forests in the 1780s.
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From there, they charted the coastal waters while trappers and traders worked thenorthern islands of Sakhalin and the Kuril chain, and then Hokkaido. In 1792 in
Hokkaido, and again in 1804 in Nagasaki, Russian traders asked the bakufu to grant
trade privileges, but they accepted a polite Tokugawa refusal. These overtures marked
the start of several decades of sporadic but increasing and occasionally violent incur­
sions. In 1806–07, Russian naval ofﬁcers led destructive attacks on Japanese settle­
ments in Hokkaido, Sakhalin, and Etorofu islands.
One year later the British joined the chase. The warship Phaeton entered Nagasaki
harbor in 1808 and threatened to attack the Dutch (the two nations were enemies in
the Napoleonic wars). In 1818 a British ship sailed into Uraga bay, near Edo. The
bakufu quickly rejected their request to begin trade relations. In response to such visits,
the bakufu in 1825 issued an order that imposed the most extreme interpretation yetof “seclusion” policy: expel by force any foreign ship in Japanese waters. As a result,when the American merchant ship, the Morrison, made a similar plea for trade in
1837, it met an even harsher reply: a volley of harmless cannon ﬁre. A few years
later, in 1844, the Dutch made an overture from their long-established base in Na­
gasaki. They submitted a polite entreaty to the bakufu from King William II. They
explained that the world had changed: The Japanese could no longer remain safely
disengaged from the commercial networks and diplomatic order that the Western pow­
ers were spreading thoughout the globe.
The Dutch argument was backed by the shocking evidence of the recent Opium
Wars in China. The Chinese in 1839 had tried to ban the socially disastrous opium
trade. The British defended “free trade” with force. By 1842 their gunboats had im­
posed their will on the Chinese. In a treaty that anticipated Japan’s future, the British
forced open new ports to trade and forced the Chinese to accept tariff levels set by
the British. They won the extraterritorial right to impose British law on Chinese soil,
administered by British ofﬁcials in cases involving British subjects.
Those Japanese who knew of this result were deeply troubled. The chief bakufu
ofﬁcial, Mizuno Tadakuni, noted that “this is happening in a foreign country, but I
believe it also contains a warning for us.”1 Tokugawa ofﬁcials politely rejected theDutch advice to avoid a future war by quickly signing trade treaties—ﬁrst with theDutch, of course. But they did make some changes. In 1842, the bakufu relaxed the1825 policy of shoot ﬁrst, ask questions later. Westerners adrift in Japanese waters
were to be given fuel and provisions and sent peacefully on their way. In addition,
the bakufu heeded some of the advice of protonationalist reformers such as the Mito
scholars. Chief councillor Abe Masahiro implemented a gradual buildup of coastal
defenses in the Tokugawa heartland after he took ofﬁce in 1845. He also allowed otherdomains to do the same.
Foreign pressures and bakufu responses combined in ways that ultimately weak­ened the bakufu. At the same time, they strengthened an emerging national conscious­
ness among a growing body of political actors. The Opium War conﬁrmed the worst
fears of all who viewed the Western barbarians as insatiable predators intent on con­quest as well as proﬁt. This gave the basic stance of seclusion a more powerful ra­
tionale than ever. Yet any effective practical response had to avoid war while domains
and bakufu bolstered their defenses. At the very least, this required short-term retreat
from hardline seclusion and the import of some of the Western technologies that

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The Overthrow of the Tokugawa

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enabled this threat in the ﬁrst place. The bakufu was trapped between a rock and ahard place. It could hardly avoid the appearance of weakness as it tried to build
strength.
It is tempting to dismiss the xenophobic arguments of so many Japanese at thistime as both futile and irrational. In Asia, at least, the Western powers did not see
territorial conquest as their only viable option. They wanted trade more than territory.
But paranoid views sometimes rest on ﬁrm ground. Western ideologies of free tradewere buoyed by a moral certitude and expansive reach that did not take no for ananswer. They certainly did not rule out colonization. People in late Tokugawa Japan,
who believed they had nothing to gain from any increased contact with the barbarians
from the West, were correct to feel threatened. Their way of life, from the material
to the political, was about to change irrevocably.
In 1853, Commodore Matthew Perry of the United States arrived in Japan as themost determined carrier yet of this simple message: Agree to trade in peace, or suffer
the consequences in war. His mission marked a new step in the American advance tothe West. With Atlantic waters nearly exhausted, American whalers had been venturing
far across the Paciﬁc. Having taken California from Mexico in 1848, the Americans
had a new sense of commercial and military ambition in the Paciﬁc. They also wanted
to compete with the British. Most immediately, Perry wanted the Japanese to sell coal
to naval ships and allow provisioning stops to whalers.
His appearance in Edo bay in July 1853, and his return the following year, oc­
casioned much bafﬂed and excited interaction. During the return visit in 1854, theJapanese sought to intimidate the intruders with an exhibition of sumo wrestling. The
Americans were not impressed. One described in his diary an event of “shoving,yelling, tugging, hawling, bawling, twisting, and curvetting about, with seemingly no
aim whatever.” He concluded, “It was a very unsatisfactory trial of strength, there
were one or two falls, but after all, any wrestler that I have heretofore seen of half
the muscle would have laughed at them.”2 On the other hand, the Americans broughtsome of their latest technology, including a one-quarter scale locomotive engine anda 370-foot circle of track. “Steam was up, an Engineer got on the tender and one of
the [bakufu] Commissioners sat on the car, it was set going and ran round at a speedof 18 miles an hour.”3 The Japanese ofﬁcial, his robe ﬂapping in the wind, was reported
to be delighted at the ride.
Such episodes notwithstanding, Perry was a hard-nosed and humorless man. He
left a harsh message in July 1853 with a promise to come back for an answer: “Theundersigned, as an evidence of his friendly intentions, has brought but four of thesmaller [ships of war], designing, should it become necessary, to return to Yedo in theensuing spring with a much larger force.”4 This episode sparked panic among the
population in and around Edo. It also sparked an extremely unusual step, indeed
unprecedented, by the bakufu. Hoping to rally a consensus for its choice to makesome concessions and avoid a war, the bakufu actually requested that daimyō submit
their advice in writing on how best to deal with the Americans.
True to his word, Perry sailed back to Japan in early 1854 with a substantial ﬂeetof nine ships, including three steam frigates. The bakufu agreed to allow Americanships to stop over in the relatively remote ports of Shimoda and Hakodate. The Amer­
icans also won the right to station a consul in Shimoda. The terms of this Treaty of

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Kanagawa were extended to the European powers—France, Britain, the Netherlands,
Russia—as well. This bakufu concession stopped short of an immediate opening totrade, but the Western powers quickly pressed their advantage. The ﬁrst American
consul, Townsend Harris, took up residence in Shimoda on the southern tip of the Izu
peninsula in 1856. Harris backed his demand for a trade treaty with the plausible
threat that the British would drive an even tougher bargain. This ﬁrst comprehensive
treaty of trade, he noted, would surely serve as the model for the other powers.
By February 1858, the bakufu negotiators signed a treaty that very nearly repli­cated the Opium War settlement with China, without a shot having been ﬁred. They
were well aware that their domestic opponents would take advantage of this step toattack the bakufu. But they believed they had no better choice. A war would be futile.
Other negotiators would be no less demanding.
The treaty opened eight ports to trade. Most notably, the Japanese surrenderedtariff autonomy and legal jurisdiction over the treaty ports. Tariffs on goods enteringor leaving Japan were set in the treaty. Japan’s government had no power to change
them. Foreign nationals accused of crimes in Japan would be tried in consular courts
presided over by foreign judges under foreign laws, a practice known as extraterri­toriality. In short order, the bakufu made similar agreements with the other Western
powers.
These “unequal treaties” were humiliating in theory and in practice. It is true,
and worth mentioning, that the Americans accepted Japanese insistence that opium
trade be outlawed, and the British did not object. Had opium entered Japan freely, it
might have changed the subsequent course of Japanese history in signiﬁcant ways.
Nonetheless, the treaties imposed a semicolonial status upon Japan. Politically andeconomically, Japan became legally subordinate to foreign governments. Over the next
few decades, petty insults were heaped one upon the other. Numerous nasty crimes
went lightly punished, if at all. In the 1870s and 1880s, these injustices—a rape
unpunished or an assault excused—came to be front page material in the new nationalpress. They were experienced each time as a renewed blow to pride, yet anotherviolation of Japanese sovereignty.
Yet it would be misleading to conclude simply that these treaties trampled apreexisting national pride and sovereignty. Rather, from the early 1800s through the1860s, the very process of dealing with the pushy barbarians created modern Japanesenationalism. Among shogunal ofﬁcials, in daimyō castles, and in the private academies
where politically concerned samurai debated history and policy, a new conception
took hold of “Japan” as a single nation, to be defended and governed as such. As thishappened, the Tokugawa claim to be Japan’s legimate defender began to wither.

THE CRUMBLING OF TOKUGAWA RULE
The immediate economic impact of the new treaty-port trade was substantial. Foreign
merchants discovered that gold in Japan could be purchased with silver coins for about
one-third the going global rate. They were delighted. In the ﬁrst year of trade theybought massive amounts of gold. They sold it in China for triple the purchase price.
In 1860, the bakufu staunched this ﬁnancial hemorrhage by debasing its gold coins

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to bring them in line with world standards. This expanded the money supply andcaused sharp inﬂation. In addition, foreign demand caused silk prices to triple by theearly 1860s for both domestic and foreign purchasers. At the same time, imports
increased of lightly taxed, inexpensive foreign goods, especially ﬁnished cotton. This
helped consumers but drove many Japanese producers out of business.
Consumers and producers alike responded with violent protest. City-dwellers were
furious over rising grain prices. At the peak of inﬂation in 1866 they destroyed hun­dreds of rice merchant shops in large food riots in Edo and Osaka. Similar protests
hit smaller towns and villages in the regions surrounding each city. The year 1866
also saw a surge of unrest among silk producers. In the Bushu region to the west ofEdo, about six thousand farmers and silk producers embarked on a weeklong campaignof violent protest. They marched from village to village, expanding their forces enroute. They smashed the homes of their creditors, the rural upper class of village
headmen, landlords, and moneylenders.5 Bakufu troops eventually subdued them.
The rioters usually targeted fellow Japanese as their exploiters. They blamed urban
rice merchants and rural moneylenders in particular. But many people in the 1860s,
including silk producers who might have proﬁted from increased demand and prices
for their product, blamed the difﬁcult plight of the common people on foreign traders
and by implication the Japanese government that agreed to trade in the ﬁrst place.
The poetry written by rural disciples of Hirata Atsutane’s School of National Learning
conveys this sentiment passionately. Consider these words of Matsuo Taseko, a woman
who produced silkworms in the Ina Valley in mountainous central Japan:

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It is disgusting
the agitation over thread
in today’s worldEver since the ships
from foreign countries
came for the jeweledsilkworm cocoons
to the land of the gods and the emperor
people’s hearts
awesome though they are,are being pulled apartand consumed by rage.6

The popular anger reﬂected in riots and in such poems did not lead directly to theoverthrow of the Tokugawa. But it certainly encouraged anti-Tokugawa activists who
blamed the bakufu for impoverishing the people and dishonoring the emperor.
The forced opening of the treaty ports had a more immediate political impact aswell. As it sought to keep the foreigners at bay, the manner in which the bakufu dealt
with the daimyō and an expanding body of political activists around the country
reduced the bakufu’s legitimacy and hastened its demise.
In 1853, the bakufu’s chief councillor, Abe Masahiro, had asked the daimyō topresent their opinions on responding to Perry’s ﬁrst visit. Through consultation, he
hoped to build consensus for a difﬁcult decision. This was a domestic political “open­ing” that paralleled the more famous “opening” to the West. It had the unintended
consequence of revealing bakufu weakness. It inspired dreams of power among leaders

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in key domains that had long traditions of frustrated political ambition. These included
the outer domains of Satsuma, Chōshū, and Tosa, which had opposed the Tokugawa
in their rise to power in 1600. Their daimyō and samurai still tended the ﬂame ofanti-Tokugawa sentiment over two centuries later. Closer to home, the powerful Mito
domain—a branch of the Tokugawa family—emerged as a strong voice for change inboth policy and the balance of power between bakufu, daimyō, and imperial court, as
did other collateral domains such as Echizen and Aizu. Mito was headed by thestaunch anti-foreign daimyō, Tokugawa Nariaki. It was home to the equally anti­
foreign, pro-emperor (although nominally pro-Tokugawa) scholarship of men like Ai­
zawa Yasushi.
The next dramatic sign of Tokugawa weakness came in 1857–58, in a tangled
ﬁasco involving dispute over the shogunal succession and the signing of the treaty
with the United States. The shogun himself, Iesada, was a weak and ailing young man
with no heirs. His head councillor was the most important ﬁgure within the bakufu.
In the face of daimyō criticism of his handling of Perry’s demands, Abe Masahiro
had resigned from this position in 1855. His successor, Hotta Masayoshi, faced two
immediate challenges. With Iesada dying of illness, he had to oversee the choice of a
new shogun. With Townsend Harris restless in Shimoda, he had to conclude treaties
with the Americans and other powers without alienating the restive daimyō. His choice
for shogun, and that of the inner circle of the fudai daimyō who monopolized the
shogun’s council, was a weak, controllable ﬁgure, a twelve-year old daimyō from thecollateral domain of Kii. Arrayed against this, and also against the treaties, were thepowerful reformist and anti-foreign daimyō of Mito, Satsuma, and several other do­mains. They promoted the son of Tokugawa Nariaki (the Mito daimyō), a reputedly
talented young prodigy named Yoshinobu.
At this juncture, Hotta decided to strengthen his hand in both foreign policy andthe succession dispute by seeking the emperor’s ratiﬁcation of the treaty with Harris.
Laden with gifts, he broke longstanding precedent with an elaborate visit to Kyoto toreceive the imperial blessing. In response, the Emperor Kōmei took an equally un­
precedented step into foreign and domestic policy decisions: He refused to support
the bakufu. His own anti-foreign leanings were bolstered by court ofﬁcials and re­formist daimyō, Tokugawa Nariaki in particular. The emperor told Hotta that he dis­
approved of the treaty. He signaled his support for Nariaki’s son as the next shogun.
Greatly humiliated on both counts, Hotta had no choice but to resign. The To­
kugawa could no longer count on the support of the imperial court. Bakufu prestige
had suffered a huge blow. With this episode, a complex three-sided political dance
began. It would continue for ten years. Bakufu diehards, especially councillors fromsmaller fudai domains, wanted to bolster traditional Tokugawa authority by carryingout foreign policy and military and ﬁnancial reforms on their own terms. They were
opposed on the elite level by powerful daimyō of the outer and collateral domains
and ofﬁcials in the imperial court. These prominent contenders for power used anti­
foreign, pro-emperor rhetoric as they sought to shift the center of political authority
in their direction. The third party to this dance was of lower status. These were theso-called loyalist samurai, or “men of high purpose” (shishi). They propelled events
forward with acts of political terror aimed at domestic opponents or foreign enemies.
These loyalists were most often angry young men from the middling to lower

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ranks of the samurai class. They were joined by a number of politically engaged
members of the rural and urban elite, including a handful of activist women. These
were crucial ﬁgures in the revolutionary history of ideas and political action in Japan.
The samurai loyalists were ﬁercely proud people who understood themselves by virtueof birth and training to be servants of their lords and, beyond that, of a larger andvaguely deﬁned realm of Japan epitomized by the emperor. In the tradition of Toku­
gawa ofﬁcialdom, they combined civil and military cultivation. They schooled them­selves in Confucian classics while they trained in fencing and swordsmanship. Re­
ﬂecting this dual training, they felt a twofold responsibility to think and to act: topropose solutions to the problems of the moment and to selﬂessly realize them inpractice.
¯
Heihachirō. In the 1830s
One harbinger of such sentiment and behavior was Oshio¯
was schooled inhe was a samurai of low rank in the Osaka city government. Oshioa stream of Confucian thought that stressed the importance of righteous individual
action. Outraged that top ofﬁcials ignored his calls to help impoverished commoners¯
led a ﬁerce uprising of Osaka resi­
at the time of the Tempō famine in 1838, Oshio
dents. His forces burned down fully one-fourth of the city before being suppressedby bakufu troops.
In the 1850s, groups of similarly angry and action-oriented dissidents coalescedin domains throughout Japan. They were especially inﬂuential in several domains inwhich they enjoyed a sympathetic hearing from the daimyō and top ofﬁcials, especially
Satsuma, Chōshū, Tosa, and Hizen. The most famous cluster of loyalists were thestudents of Yoshida Shōin, a charismatic scholar-samurai in Chōshū. Yoshida himself
was executed in 1859 during a bakufu crackdown on dissent. His followers went on
to play leading roles in overthrowing the Tokugawa and consolidating the new Meiji
regime. The inns and temples in castle towns and in Kyoto that served as clandestine
meeting places for these activists trace a path toward revolution similar to the “freedom
trails” in American cities like Boston or Philadelphia that offer a sense of history tolater ages.
The loyalists drew intellectual inspiration from an eclectic mix of idealism andpractical reformism. They supported direct, violent action. They believed the existing
system denied due respect and authority to “men of talent” such as themselves. They
exalted the emperor, and they hated the foreigners who had forced their way into
Japan. They put hate into action by assassinating not only domestic enemies, butforeigners as well. Among their victims were Townsend Harris’s Dutch interpreterand a well-known British merchant. But—and this is a crucial point—although they
set off on their political path with crude and hopeless notions of standing up to foreign
gunboats with razor-sharp swords and expelling the barbarians immediately, many
loyalists quickly tempered their extremism with practical experience.
In particular, those who lived long enough to tell the tale came to see the needto learn from the West and perhaps even coexist with it. An archetypical case is thatof Tosa loyalist Sakamoto Ryōma. In a scene that is a favorite of historical dramas
to this day, Sakamoto charged into the residence of a bakufu ofﬁcial one day in 1862.
With sword drawn, he stood intent on killing this man, who was modernizing the
Tokugawa navy along Western lines. His target, Katsu Kaishū, convinced the wouldbe assassin to ﬁrst hear him out. In the course of an afternoon Katsu saved his own

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Young samurai from Satsuma and Chōshū, who have just led a successful revolt against theTokugawa shogun in the name of loyalty to the Meiji emperor, are here photographed in To­¯
kyo in 1869. On the left end, Itō Hirobumi of Chōshū; on the right end, Okubo
Toshimichi ofSatsuma. The two younger men in the middle were sons of the daimyō of Satsuma domain.

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Courtesy of Ishiguro Takaaki.

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life and persuaded Sakamoto that modernizing reforms were inevitable. Over time,
people like Sakamoto developed a profound understanding of Western ideas, institu­
tions, and technologies that would become deeply rooted in Japan.

POLITICS OF TERROR AND ACCOMMODATIONThe Tokugawa bakufu thus faced a triple threat, from foreign powers, restive daimyō,and hot-headed samurai. It responded to this new situation with inconsistent policies.
Its leaders lurched from accommodation to a hardline policy and back. They hoped
all the while to strengthen the bakufu and share as little power as possible. Hotta’s
successor as ranking bakufu ofﬁcial, Ii Naosuke, repudiated the politics of consensusseeking. He tried to revive the traditional Tokugawa dictatorship. He went ahead with­out imperial approval to sign the Harris treaties in July 1858. He appointed the weakchild-candidate as shogun. He told the court and outer daimyō to keep out of bakufu
affairs, foreign policy and shogunal succession included. Ii carried out the dramatic
Ansei Purge (after the era name) in 1858. He forced several reformist daimyō to resign,
placed Tokugawa Nariaki under house arrest, and executed or imprisoned sixty-nine
anti-bakufu samurai activists.
This crackdown proved too little, too late to put the anti-bakufu genie back in thebottle. In March 1860 a group of Mito loyalists assassinated Ii just outside a gate to55

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Edo castle. They saw him as a hateful tyrant who had killed their comrades andbetrayed the emperor. Ii’s worried successors in the bakufu council returned to anaccomodationist line. Their goal was to win back the support of the court and powerful
daimyō with strategic concessions, while cracking down on the extremist samurai. The
emperor’s capital of Kyoto was the literal and symbolic battleground for allcontestants.
The consensus-building policy of the new Tokugawa leadership sought “unity
between court and bakufu (kōbu gattai).” This slogan meant different things to dif­ferent people. For the bakufu, the idea was to make conciliatory gestures, such asarranging a marriage between the emperor’s sister and the newly installed young
shogun. The powerful outer daimyō of Satsuma, Chōshū, and Tosa and the collateralhouses of Mito and Aizu had other ideas. To them, unity of court and bakufu meanta major shift of decision-making authority to a council of lords centered in Kyoto.
Such a system would have reduced the shogun to a position of ﬁrst-among-equals, asa loyal imperial servant.
The bakufu concluded it had no choice but to accept some of these strong calls
for reform. In 1862 it agreed to end the venerable system of alternate attendance asan economic step to allow domains to save money. This also, of course, loosened the
bakufu’s increasingly precarious grip on daimyō political activity. The bakufu agreed
that the daimyō could spend these funds on strengthening “national” defense by build­
ing up their domain armies and navies, another step that could bolster the daimyō
opposition. The bakufu also agreed to appoint three powerful daimyō as special ad­visors to the shogun.
The bakufu hoped that such steps would drive a wedge between samurai radicals
and their domain leaders, allowing it to crack down on the former. This did not happen
immediately. Instead, loyalist samurai from all over Japan converged on Kyoto in 1862
and 1863. The city became a hotbed of agitation among court ofﬁcials and anti-foreign
loyalists from many domains, people willing to sacriﬁce their own lives in the nameof expelling the foreign barbarians and honoring the Japanese emperor. The suppos­
edly pure motives of these devoted youths, and the sheer drama of their conspiracies
and actions, left a potent legacy of political inspiration to later generations. They also
forced the bakufu to take further controversial steps to regain control.
In 1863, the loyalists convinced the Emperor Kōmei to formally request that the
shogun immediately expel the Western barbarians. The bakufu responded by sending
the shogun to Kyoto (the ﬁrst such procession since Iemitsu’s grand visit in 1634) todiscuss the matter. This trip represented a dramatic shift of geopolitical power. The
bakufu expected that its new daimyō “allies” in the politics of court-bakufu unity
would help persuade the emperor to revoke the expulsion request. Powerful daimyō,
most notably the lord of Satsuma, understood that immediate explusion was impos­
sible. But they kept silent. Indeed, the Satsuma lord quietly left Kyoto at a crucial
moment in the negotiations. With expulsion advocates in control of the court, theshogun had no choice but to return to Edo after accepting a certain date, June 25,
1863, as the exact moment to expel the barbarians.
The bakufu ofﬁcials were well aware that their forces could not carry out thisorder. The deadline passed quietly in Edo. But in Chōshū at the far southern tip ofthe main island, loyalist soldiers in the domain army launched a cannon attack on an

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American ship. American and French warships immediately retaliated. They landed
at Shimonoseki and destroyed several shore batteries, although the Chōshū attacks
continued for some weeks. As the treaty powers considered further retribution, thebakufu and Satsuma forces ﬁnally joined hands to drive the Chōshū loyalists and theanti-bakufu court advisors out of Kyoto.
The bakufu moved to shore up control. It organized a militia under the controlof the Aizu daimyō to keep a tight rein on activities in Kyoto. It promised to fulﬁll
the “immediate” expulsion order in due course by closing the port of Yokohama in
the near future. The court, shorn of its most radical elements, accepted this pledge.
But the immediate crisis persisted for another year. In 1864 loyalist samurai from allover Japan retreated to Chōshū, where domain leaders allowed them to stay and con­spire. From there, they mounted a new attack. They marched on Kyoto, with plans
for a coup to capture the emperor and liberate him from Tokugawa control. They were
met and routed by a combination of Satsuma and Aizu forces loyal to the bakufu.
The bakufu followed this advantage with a punitive expedition to Chōshū. As theprice for allowing the Chōshū domain to survive, the bakufu demanded that the dai­myō execute the leaders of the attack on Kyoto, and he agreed. Satisﬁed that Chōshū
was now controlled by a more moderate faction of samurai, the bakufu armies returned
home. Advocates of a moderate politics of court-bakufu unity seemed to have regained
the initiative.

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BAKUFU REVIVAL, THE SATSUMA-CHŌSHU¯ INSURGENCY, AND DOMESTIC
UNREST

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With hindsight, it is easy enough to see that the appearance of bakufu victory wasdeceiving. This was not obvious at the time, however. Chōshū was disgraced. Newly
energetic leaders headed the bakufu. What was obvious was that the turmoil of theprevious several years had set in motion a train of events that would transform Japanto some extent no matter who was in charge. Far-reaching social and political reforms
were imposed both within the bakufu and in some key domains, especially in Chōshū.
These centered on opening military and civil administration more broadly to talented
men of various backgrounds and streamlining the larger political structure.
Within the bakufu, the ﬁnance commissioner, Oguri Tadamasa, led a drive toreorganize the military along Western lines beginning in 1865. Oguri even contem­
plated abolishing the domains entirely and creating a centralized national government.
He received important advice and ﬁnancial support for these efforts from the French
minister to Edo, Leon Roche. But he also ran into opposition from conservative bakufu
ofﬁcials and from Tokugawa vassals anxious to protect their hereditary privileges. His
programs of administrative and military reform did not go as far as those undertaken
in some domains. In the summer of 1866 he received some powerful support when a
new shogun, Tokugawa Yoshinobu, took ofﬁce. This was the same man whom reform­
ist daimyō had promoted for the position of shogun in the political struggles of 1857–
58. Now that he had the chance to rule, Yoshinobu resolved to work with Oguri andRoche to remake the bakufu into a Western-style national government. Conservativeinterests within the bakufu continued to resist change. But the reforms these men tried

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to introduce were quite similar to those implemented by the new Meiji regime several
years later. Even had the bakufu “survived,” it would have done so by transforming
itself into a political system not unlike that which replaced it.
This did not happen for two related reasons. Given a taste of power, the leadersof the outer domains, above all Satsuma and Chōshū, were unwilling to return to a
subordinate position under Tokugawa rule. And most important, samurai within theirborders—at times in deﬁance of domain rulers—undertook dramatic reforms. They
consolidated military strength sufﬁcient to challenge and defeat the Tokugawa armies.
The Chōshū loyalists had been defeated and lost power in 1864, but the bakufu
had not rooted them out completely. Surviving remnants continued to organize militia
using Western arms and military techniques. In a breakthrough social innovation, theorganizers of these militia, in particular Takasugi Shinsaku, allowed (and sometimes
forced) peasants to join. After 250 years during which peasants were strictly forbiddenfrom bearing arms and training as soldiers, they were given a chance to join battle.
Whether they saw this as a chance for individual glory or a role in a grander cause,
these farmer-soldiers and their samurai partners built units with high morale as well
as skill. In 1865 Takasugi’s forces fought a victorious civil war in Chōshū. They retook
control of the domain government. As in Satsuma, the Chōshū treasury was wellstocked owing to effective ﬁscal reforms initiated decades earlier. This allowed thedomain to purchase arms and ships from British merchants and build a formidable
force.
Without such a drama of civil war, Satsuma had also been modernizing its militaryforces. Domain ﬁnances were healthy thanks to a mercantilist policy of promoting andtaxing trade and the production of commercial crops, sugar in particular. In addition,
Satsuma shared with Chōshū an extremely high ratio of samurai to commoners, a
tradition of enmity to the Tokugawa, and the ability to escape close bakufu scrutiny
because of its distant location. This made the two domains appear to be natural allies.
In fact, it took much cajoling by outsiders to bring them together.
The key ﬁgure here was Sakamoto Ryōma, the Tosa samurai who had turned
from anti-foreign assassin to open-the-country reformer after his encounter with the
bakufu ofﬁcial Katsu Kaishū. Sakamoto brokered a secret alliance between Satsuma
and Chōshū in 1866. The two domains promised to support each other in the case of
a bakufu attack on either one. This was not long in coming, for the Tokugawa could
not tolerate the return of the loyalists to power in Chōshū. In the summer of 1866,
the bakufu army embarked on a second expedition to the southwest to punish Chōshū.
It demanded support from other domains, but Satsuma—bound by its secret alliance—and several others refused to send troops. The expedition ended in a stunning defeat
for the poorly motivated bakufu forces.
The defeat and retreat of this large army across the length of the main island were
public humiliations that made the fall of the Tokugawa regime inevitable and sparked
widespread popular expectation of change, even of apocalyptic deliverance. Somepeasants reacted to the impending collapse with uprisings to resist taxes or attack theauthority of village elites. Such incidents were widespread in the ﬁnal two years of
bakufu rule. Especially in 1866, at least 35 urban riots and 106 peasant uprisings took
place. They were concentrated in the months following the failed bakufu attack on
Chōshū.

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C R ISIS O F T H E T O K U G A W A R EGI M EMore unusual and intriguing was the carnival of dancing and celebrating thatswept the central regions from Osaka to Edo in late 1867. In Osaka, Kyoto, Nagoya,and numerous other towns, small good luck charms somehow began raining downfrom the sky. Authorities in a few cases caught people tossing these from rooftops,in effect seeding the clouds. Whether or not the charms were of truly magical origin,
they had powerful effect. In places where they fell, people took to the streets for daysof drunken dance and carousing. They deﬁed orders to cease. Their songs—written
down by observers at the time—reveal a sharp awareness of the political contest
underway and its likely outcome in defeat for the Tokugawa. One British writer des­cibed the scene in Osaka in 1867:

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Crowds of people in holiday garb, dancing and singing “ee ja nai ka, ee ja nai ka(isn’t it good),” houses decorated with rice-cakes in all colours, oranges, little bags,
straws and ﬂowers. The dresses worn were chieﬂy red crepe, a few blue and purple.
Many of the dancers carried red lanterns on their heads. The pretext for these rejoic­
ings was a shower of pieces of paper, bearing the names of the two gods of Ise,alleged to have taken place recently.7

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With such extraordinary outbursts in the background, key actors in the bakufu
and major domains struggled over the precise manner in which the era of Tokugawa
rule would end. At stake was the question of who would have a voice. Would the
bakufu be replaced by an inclusive, in some rough sense “representative” form ofgovernment, perhaps a council of daimyō? Or, would a narrow group of insurgents
be able to monopolize power in a new regime? The issue was not quickly resolved.
It would remain at the heart of Japanese political life for decades.
Once again, it was the Tosa daimyō, advised by Sakamoto Ryōma and GotōShōjirō, who played a crucial role as intermediary. The Tosa objective was to replace
bakufu rule with a roughly British model: bicameral rule by a council of lords and asecond council representing lesser samurai, and perhaps commoners. By November
1867, the shogun, Tokugawa Yoshinobu, had been persuaded to accept this plan. He
was to step down from his post and “return” ultimate power and sovereignty to theemperor. But the Tokugawa would retain control of their own considerable lands.
Yoshinobu expected the Tokugawa house would continue to play an important role in
the ruling council of lords.
This compromise, even with its huge reduction of Tokugawa power, did not satisfy
the insurgent forces in Satsuma and Chōshū or their allies in the imperial court. In
December 1867 the Satsuma and Chōshū armies marched on Kyoto. They took controlof the imperial palace. In early January 1868 the insurgents prompted the Emperor
Meiji, who had just recently taken the throne upon his father’s death in 1867, toannounce an imperial “restoration.” The bakufu was to be abolished. It would be
replaced by a new government of nobles and daimyō under the emperor. The Toku­
gawa would have no place at all. Yoshinobu resisted, but his troops were easily de­feated in a battle just outside Kyoto. He retreated to Edo, but in April 1868 his militarycommander, Katsu Kaishū, turned over Edo to the insurgent forces without a ﬁght.
Katsu was convinced that peacefully setting up a new political order was preferable
to ﬁghting to the death for a lost cause.

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The Overthrow of the Tokugawa

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Not all the Tokugawa supporters shared this commitment to a larger, national
political order centered on the emperor. Samurai in several domains in northern Japan,
in particular, did not trust the insurgents. They feared the new rulers from Satsuma
and Chōshū would shut them out of the new regime. They resisted with arms and put
up a stiff ﬁght. The last pockets of bakufu and allied domain resistance were notcrushed until eighteen months after the ofﬁcial “restoration” of the emperor in January
1868. As many as three thousand men died in the ﬁercest attacks, which targeted theholdout domain of Aizu.
The old regime thus collapsed, not without some turmoil and bloodshed, and withgreat political drama. Over the years of anti-foreign and anti-bakufu activism, partic­
ipants on all sides had greatly shifted their visions of the desired political or social
order. In the early 1860s, some had traveled to Europe or the United States on missions
sent by their domains or by the bakufu. For the most part they abandoned crude plansfor immediate “expulsion.” They developed a rather sophisticated appreciation of thepotential of Western technologies and even political institutions.
Some had moved further by 1868. They had abandoned even the position ofstrategic concession, that one should learn from the barbarians to overcome and expel
them in a decade or two. They had decided instead that Japan might permanently
become part of a global order of nation-states. These activists were beginning to createa sense of a nation, at least in their own ranks. Beyond them, the masses of people,
by no means as stupid or ignorant as many samurai believed them to be, held fervent
expectation for change, perhaps deliverance. Few lamented the passing of the bakufu.
But few identiﬁed themselves with the new order, either. Who would lead the new
regime, and how would it be structured? Together with charms ﬂoating down fromthe skies, these and many fundamental questions seemed almost literally up in the airwhen the reign of the Emperor Meiji was announced in 1868.

P
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1868–1905

iety

MODERN REVOLUTION

5The Samurai Revolution

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The “restoration” of the young Emperor Meiji in 1867–68 was little more than a coupd’état. A relatively small band of insurgents had toppled the Tokugawa bakufu. They
stated their intent to restore direct imperial rule, but this was not likely to occur. Strongemperors who exercised power directly had been exceptional in Japanese history. Po­
litical contenders at the time feared that the rebels from Satsuma and Chōshū would
simply form a new bakufu and use the name of the emperor to rule from a narrowbase of power. After all, beyond the political upheaval in Kyoto and Edo, little hadchanged. The islands of Japan were still divided into nearly two hundred relatively
autonomous domains. Each maintained its own treasury and army. The samurai werestill receiving stipends, which they viewed as a hereditary birthright. The daily life of
the countryside and cities had gone through some tumult. But the scattered peasantrebellions were short-lived.
However, if we compare this situation of 1868 in any aspect—political, economic,
social, cultural—to that of just a decade later, the changes are breathtaking and fully
merit the term revolution. Of course, no society ever totally severs itself from its past,and Japan was no exception. But the range and depth of change were astonishing toobservers at the time. It remains so when looking back after 150 years. One of themost insightful contemporaneous observers was a British scholar named Basil Hall
Chamberlain. He lived in Japan for over thirty years beginning in 1873. In 1891, hewrote:To have lived through the transition stage of modern Japan makes a man feel preter­
naturally old; for here he is in modern times, with the air full of talk about bicycles
and bacilli and “spheres of inﬂuence,” and yet he can himself distinctly remember the
Middle Ages. The dear old Samurai who ﬁrst initiated the present writer into themysteries of the Japanese language, wore a queue and two swords. This relic offeudalism now sleeps in Nirvana.
His modern successor, fairly ﬂuent in English, and dressed in a serviceable suitof dittos, might almost be European, save for a certain obliqueness of the eyes andscantiness of beard. Old things pass away between a night and a morning.1

Although Chamberlain here stresses how unusually swiftly the events of this “transi­tion stage” unfolded, his writing also suggests that Japan’s transition was part of a61

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broader global shift. And indeed, the revolution that began in the 1860s was a Japanesevariation on a global theme of modern revolution. Changes that took place in societies
around the world in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries also unfolded in Japan.
Although sharing much with a global history of modernizing societies, the Jap­
anese revolution did take place through a process that differed from the revolutions
in Europe of the late eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries. In Europe, members of
newly powerful classes, especially the urban bourgeoisie, challenged and sometimes
overturned the privileges of long-entrenched aristocrats. By contrast, in Japan of the
Meiji era it was members of the elite of the old regime, the samurai, who spearheaded
the attack on the old order. Their role has led many historians to describe Japan in
the nineteenth century as undergoing a “revolution from above” or an “aristocratic
revolution.”2
In the twentieth century, other modernizing revolutions also unfolded through aprocess in which members of elite groups undermined their own well-established po­sitions while they restructured the political order. The Japanese mode of modern rev­
olution was not unique. Rather, it contrasted with earlier Western revolutions and re­sembled some later ones. This sort of elite-led revolution took place in Japan becauseof particular features of the samurai class, both weaknesses and strengths. On thenegative side, change was possible because the samurai were not a securely landed
elite. They were essentially salaried employees of their lords. Although this status
was hereditary, it was less rooted in property than a European-style feudal estate, a
Chinese gentry holding, or a Korean aristocratic status (yangban). The samurai had
less to lose than elites in such societies. They were hard-pressed to protect their priv­
ilege as hereditary government employees once the new rulers decided to revoke it.
Some did protest the actions of their former comrades bitterly, but others were either
unable or unwilling to resist. On the positive side, many of the activists in the resto­
ration movement had already developed a commitment to serving and building arealm that went beyond the narrow conﬁnes of a single domain. This emerging na­
tional consciousness offered a compelling reason for many to accept programs of farreaching change.

PROGRAMS OF NATIONALIST REVOLUTION
The leaders of the new Meiji government in 1868 were thrilled at the ease and speedwith which they overcame the Tokugawa. They remained insulted by the unequal andcoerced foreign presence and worried about the prospect of continued foreign en­
croachment. They were simultaneously fearful of resistance from domestic opponents.
Domain armies remained in place, after all. Some had considerable stocks of Westernarms.
The Meiji revolutionaries were motivated by fear of these challenges. They werealso moved by their own sense of the ongoing problems of the Tokugawa order:
military and economic weakness, political fragmentation, and a social hierarchy thatfailed to recognize men of talent. Propelled by both fear and discontent with the oldregime, they generated an ambitious agenda, through a process of trial and error,
aiming to build a new sort of national power.

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The Samurai Revolution

Political Uniﬁcation and Central Bureaucracy

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Their ﬁrst dramatic step was to abolish all the daimyō domains, thus dismantling apolitical order in place for 260 years. By 1868, almost immediately after the resto­
rationist coup, top leaders of the new provisional government such as Kido Kōin ofChōshū and Saigō Takamori of Satsuma decided that the politically fragmented systemof domains had to be overhauled. They acted with careful tactics and reached theirgoal in just three years. One British observer marvelled at this and other changes in
1872: “[F]our years ago we were still in the middle ages—we have leapt at a boundinto the nineteenth century—out of poetry into plain useful prose.”3
The move toward an integrated national polity began in March 1869. The new
government convinced key daimyō of prestige and power, especially those of Satsuma,Chōshū, Tosa, and Hizen, to voluntarily surrender their lands back to the emperor. As
the patrons of many of the coup planners, these men were guaranteed respect and avoice in the new order if they wished. In fact, they were all quickly reappointed as
domain governors with handsome salaries. Nonetheless, the “return of lands” estab­lished the principle that all lands and people were subject to the emperor’s rule. By
early 1870, all daimyō had formally returned their lands and taken appointments asgovernors of their domains, but they retained signiﬁcant autonomy, as in the past.
Preparing the ground for the complete abolition of the daimyō domains, the Meiji
reformers worked to place domain governments in sympathetic hands. They pressed
the daimyō to appoint men of talent and often modest rank to key adminstrative posts.
Such people would be likely to welcome further reform. Kido Kōin and other top
ofﬁcials in the Meiji government also won support of powerholders in many domains,both daimyō and their followers, by promising them posts in the new central govern­
ment. They backed such persuasion by threat of force, creating an imperial army
primarily from Satsuma and Chōshū samurai. It was untested, but it was stronger thanany single domain’s forces or any likely combination of forces.
Having bought off potential opposition leaders and built support in key domains
with these measures, the government in August 1871 had the emperor announce thatall domains were immediately abolished. They were replaced with “prefectures” whose
governors were appointed from the center. This was much more than a renaming of
domains into prefectures. It was a stunning change, with immediate visible conse­
quences. The central government would now collect taxes from domain lands. The
daimyō were ordered to move to Tokyo. Many castles were dismantled. Within justthree months, the number of political units was consolidated dramatically, from 280
domains to 72 prefectures. Most of the new governors were not former daimyō. They
were middling samurai from the insurgent domains now controlling the government.
This decree was accompanied by a large payoff to the daimyō themselves. They
were granted permanent yearly salaries equivalent to roughly 10 percent of their for­mer domain’s annual tax revenue. Daimyō were simultaneously relieved of all thecosts of governing. Most were quite content to take early retirement on such generous
terms. Thus, within the short span of three years, a political order in existence forover two and a half centuries simply disappeared. The Tokugawa bakufu, on the one
hand, and the hundreds of semi-autonomous domains on the other, no longer existed.
Simultaneously, of course, the Meiji leaders had to erect a new national political

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structure to govern these domains turned prefectures. For several years they gropedin this direction, experimenting with a confusing variety of political forms. They
bolstered their claim as restorationists by labeling these ﬁrst government ofﬁces withancient Chinese terms used by the Japanese court in the Heian period (794–1192). In
early 1868, the Sat-Chō rebels and court ofﬁcials placed themselves atop a provisional
government to rule in the name of emperor. Later that year they established the Coun­cil of State as the highest political authority and monopolized its highest posts. The
organization of this council was revised in 1869 and again in 1871. Later in 1871 it
was replaced by a tripartite set of ministries of the Center, Left, and Right, further
subdivided into various functional ministries (Finance, Foreign Affairs, Public Works,
Home Affairs).
This format proved relatively effective. It persisted until 1885, when the Meiji
leaders inaugurated a cabinet system modeled explicitly along European lines. At thehead of this government was a prime minister. He presided over a cabinet that ran thebureaucratic agencies—the several ministries—of the Japanese state. This structure
was codiﬁed in the Meiji constitution of 1889, discussed in detail later in this chapter.
Although this constitution provided for a deliberative assembly (the Diet), state min­isters were responsible not to the Diet but to the emperor.
In the early Meiji years, the ministerial staff was recruited mainly by personalconnections from the ranks of Satsuma and Chōshū samurai and their allies. But the
government rather quickly moved toward a more impersonal, merit-based mode ofrecruitment. In 1887 it began a system of civil service examinations. From this pointon, performance on this exam became the primary qualiﬁcation for service in theprestigious ranks of the ministries of the Japanese imperial state.
The creation of this bureaucratic state was a step of great importance in the historyof modern Japan. The Meiji rulers inherited a Tokugawa legacy of bureaucratic ruleby civilianized samurai. They extended its reach by eliminating domains. They deep­
ened its reach by replacing the clumsy Tokugawa administrative machinery of over­lapping jurisdictions with functional ministries with clearly deﬁned responsibilities.
They bolstered its legitimacy by putting the meritocratic ideals of the Tokugawa sys­
tem into practice. And ﬁnally, they elevated its prestige by deﬁning the bureaucratic
mission as one of service to the emperor. They gave the state a greater legitimacy andpower than it had ever held in the past.

Eliminating the Status System
The second great change of early Meiji was even more remarkable. It was achieved
at greater cost. By 1876, less than a decade after the restoration coup, the economic
privileges of the samurai were wiped out entirely. The coup leaders expropriated an
entire social class, the semi-aristocratic elite from which they came. They met some
stiff, violent resistance, but they managed to overcome it. This remarkable changeamounted to a social revolution.
The government moved to expropriate the samurai primarily for ﬁnancial reasons.
The government reduced samurai stipends when it abolished the domains, but in the
mid-1870s these payouts still consumed a huge chunk—roughly half—of state reve­nues. The new rulers had other uses in mind for this money. They believed that the

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The Samurai Revolution

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samurai gave back relatively little value for their high costs. Their ranks included
many talented people sitting idle. Their time-honored military skills, focused on
swords and archery, were useless. Thus the samurai’s stipends were basically welfare
for the well-born.
This case for expropriating the samurai was clear enough to government leaders
soon after the restoration. But taking this step was a major undertaking. It took nearlya decade and enraged many former samurai. In particular, many of those who had
supported the restoration drive, but remained in their domains after 1868, felt betrayedby their former comrades now running the Meiji government. The latter moved insmall steps ﬁrst, as they had with domain abolition. In 1869 they reduced the large
number of samurai ranks to two, upper samurai (shizoku) and lower samurai (sotsu).
In 1872 a large portion of the lower samurai were reclassiﬁed as commoners (heimin),although they retained their stipends for the moment.
In 1873, the government announced that stipends would be taxed. The next year
it announced a voluntary program to convert stipends to bonds. The right to a stipend
could be traded for an interest-bearing bond with a face value of ﬁve to fourteen years
of income (in general, the lower the stipend, the higher the multiple). The bond would
pay interest ranging from 5 to 7 percent, with smaller bonds paying higher rates. The
income stream from all but the most generous bonds was a good bit lower than theannual stipend. Few samurai volunteered for this program.
The government made this program compulsory in 1876: All stipends were con­verted to bonds. In contrast to the well-compensated daimyō, many samurai sufferedsigniﬁcant losses. Their annual incomes fell by anywhere from 10 to 75 percent. They
further lost pride and prestige: The right to wear swords was denied to all but solidiersand policemen.
The elimination of samurai privilege allowed the new regime to redirect ﬁnancial
and human resources alike and was part of a larger transformation of society from asystem of ﬁxed statuses to a more ﬂuid, merit-based social order. The other side to
the abolition of samurai privilege was the end to formal restrictions on the rest of the
population. At least in theory, this constituted social liberation. In 1870, all nonsamurai were classiﬁed in legal terms as commoners (heimin). With some importantgender-based exceptions noted later, the restrictions of the Tokugawa era on modesof travel, dress, and hairstyle were eliminated. Restrictions on occupation were abol­ished. The government ended legal discrimination against the hereditary outcaste
groups of Tokugawa times such as eta and hinin. These terms came to be consideredslurs and were replaced in ofﬁcial language by the label burakumin (literally, “village
people,” in reference to their segregated villages). The descendants of these outcastes,
however, continued to face prejudice and discrimination.
Some commoners fared well. Not surprisingly, many of those with education andmoney, in particular the landowners, moneylenders, and petty manufacturers at theupper levels of rural society, thrived in the more open social order of the Meiji era.
Others, especially those with weak claims to farmland, lived in desperate poverty.
They depended on the unreliable benevolence of landlords to survive illness, crop
failures, or price declines. Although the samurai lost their income and social privilege,
they were educated and ambitious. Many landed on their feet. Others invested theirbonds in new businesses and failed miserably. Still others took up arms against the

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new government or joined political movements on behalf of a parliament andconstitution.
The literature of the Meiji period offers one window into the excitement, theopportunities, and the risks of this era of change. One example is this comment by
the narrator of Footprints in the Snow, a vibrant and widely read novel set in the
1880s and written in 1901 by Tokutomi Roka:
The race will go to the swift, not the empty-headed! The real testing-time in politics
will come after the Diet gets going in 1890—and in everything, not only politics: thefurther Japan advances on the world stage, the more opportunities for the really able!4

The Conscript Army

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Even before the samurai were fully dispossessed, the Meiji leaders decided they had
to renovate the military from the bottom up. Key ﬁgures from Chōshū were deeply
impressed at the superior performance of their mixed farmer-samurai militias in the¯
Masujirō, and Yamagata Aritomo—
restoration wars. These men—Kido Kōin, Omura
argued forcefully for a conscript army drawn from the entire population. Their views
were controversial, to say the least. In October 1869 a group of samurai in Kyoto,¯And among top government
outraged at the conscript proposal, assassinated Omura.
ﬁgures, the Satsuma men saw things differently from the Chōshū clique. They camefrom a domain where nearly one-fourth of the population had been samurai. They
feared arming ignorant and potentially rebellious commoners. They wanted to ensurea major role for samurai in the new Meiji order. The champion of this position wasŌkubo Toshimichi, who ranked with Kido as one of the two most powerful leadersin the ﬁrst decade of the Meiji era. At ﬁrst he prevailed, with the support of Iwakura
Tomomi, the most important court noble in the Meiji government. In April 1871 thegovernment created an imperial army of just under ten thousand samurai recruitedfrom the restoration forces.
The conservative military leadership seemed to be in control, but their ascendance
was short-lived. Yamagata Aritomo returned from a trip to Europe fully convincedthat mass conscription was the key not only to building military strength but also to
disciplining a loyal populace. By 1873 his arguments had prevailed. The government
decreed a system of universal conscription. Beginning at the age of twenty, all males
were obligated to give three years of active service and four years on reserve status.
The draft was not popular. The 1873 decree noted several exemptions, for house­
hold heads, criminals, the physically unﬁt, students and teachers in many prescribedschools, and government ofﬁcials. It also allowed people to buy their way out for ahuge fee of 270 yen. This sum represented more than the annual wage of a common
laborer. Large numbers of people sought to qualify for exemption or somehow scrape
together the buyout fee. The army had trouble meeting the quotas for what the gov­
ernment itself labeled a “blood tax” (following European terminology). In 1873–74
angry crowds attacked and destroyed numerous registration centers in sixteen riots;
nearly 100,000 people were arrested and punished.
As this resistance makes clear, the strong discipline and ﬁerce loyalty shown byJapanese soldiers in later decades were by no means timeless traditional elements of

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The Samurai Revolution

Japan’s “national character.” Such resistance also took place in Europe and in the
United States, where large anti-draft riots erupted during the Civil War. In Japan as
elsewhere, a patriotic spirit that could induce willing military service—a key elementof modern nationalism—had to be drummed into the masses of people over several
decades. Japan’s army passed its ﬁrst major test when it put down a large samurai
rebellion in 1877. An imperial rescript of 1882 addressed to soldiers and sailors en­
joined youths to serve the emperor with loyalty and valor. Teachers and texts in the
new public school system echoed the message. The navy was built up in the 1880s
and 1890s. By the mid-1890s, Japan’s military was strong enough to move from thetask of keeping order at home to that of imposing its will overseas. Military service
came to be accepted as the patriotic obligation of Japanese men by most recruits andtheir families.

Compulsory Education

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Parallel to its program of military reform, the Meiji government instituted a new
system of education with remarkable speed. With grand language, in 1872 it declared
four years of elementary education to be compulsory for all children, boys and girls:“In a village there shall be no house without learning, and in a house, no individual
without learning.” This important step reﬂected the new leaders’ understanding of thesources of Western power. Observation of European and American societies convinced
leaders such as Kido Kōin that mass schooling, like mass conscription, was a fun­damental source of the economic and military power of the West. Their initial models
were primarily American and French, and the 1872 decree established a system of
elementary and middle schools and national universities. At the outset, the government
announced that schools were to encourage practical learning as well as independent
thinking. By this means commoners would ﬁnd their own way to serve the state.
Mass compulsory education was a bold initiative, and a risky one for the gov­
ernment. Tokugawa thinkers such as Aizawa Yasushi had complained endlessly of the“stupid commoners” who would easily be tricked by demagogic Christian missionaries
into betraying the authorities, even the emperor. Such attitudes could have led the
Meiji leaders to hold back from imparting literacy and potentially subversive “enlight­
enment” to imperial subjects who were expected to follow orders. The Meiji leadershipconsciously took this risk. They concluded that an ignorant populace would be agreater danger to their projects to build political and economic power. They also
developed rather different views of the value of learning for girls and boys. The former
were expected to learn the skills needed for future domestic roles as wives and mothers
as well as loyal subjects of the emperor. The latter were expected to take their knowl­edge into a wider public realm of endeavor in the cause of building the nation.
Reactions to compulsory education were mixed. The era’s literature conveys theexcitement of many young men at the opportunity to better themselves and serve theircountry, if possible in the new capital of Tokyo. In Footprints in the Snow, Tokutomi
also evoked the enthusiasm for learning of the early 1880s:
About the end of August a letter came from Matsumura with a tremendous piece of
news. “Tremendous news.” For us boys, in those days, these words could have only

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one meaning: Matsumura was leaving next month, to study in the capital—in Tokyo!
You could feel his excitement in the hardly legible scrawl; his handwriting was none
too ﬁrm at the best of times, but this! The characters fairly danced their way down
the page in a kind of dishevelled ecstasy.5

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Not everyone was so happy at the obligation to attend school and the opportunity
to graduate. The elementary schools were to be ﬁnanced by a 10 percent local sur­charge to the national property tax. In the 1870s angry taxpayers reacted to compul­
sory schooling as they had to the draft: They rioted. Crowds of people destroyed atleast two thousand schools, usually by setting them aﬁre. This represented close to
one-tenth of the total number of schools. The passive resistance of simply not goingto school was even more widespread. Rates of attendance for school-age boys andgirls stood at 25 to 50 percent of the eligible population for the ﬁrst decade of the
new system.
But eventually, as with serving in the military, attending school became a wellaccepted obligation of the emperor’s subjects. By the end of the nineteenth century,
rates of elementary school attendance reached levels of 90 percent or more. By 1905,
98 percent of school-age boys and 93 percent of girls were attending elementary
schools as the law required. As compulsory education took root, the idea that one’s
life course—at least that of young men—should be open at the outset and should
reﬂect one’s talent and efforts became one of Japan’s most fundamental and widely
held social values. In Tokugawa Japan, a major tension set the merit ideal—that menof talent should hold ofﬁce—against the hereditary status system. The Meiji social
revolution resolved this ideological tension clearly in favor of merit.

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The Monarch at the Center

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Finally, one of the most portentous new departures of the revolutionary years of early
Meiji was the decision to put the emperor at the very center of the political order.
The restoration activists carried out their coup in the name of the Meiji emperor. But
once in power, they held no consensus on what to do with him. The populace was
not particularly committed to the emperor as a political symbol. Nor was the emperor
an impressive young man, whether in court garb or in Western military uniform.
After the emperor’s triumphal progress from Kyoto to Edo in 1868, the early
Meiji government struggled to decide where to locate a permanent capital. Someofﬁcials supported moving the capital permanently to Edo (renamed Tokyo, or Eastern
capital), some wished to send the emperor and capital back to Kyoto, and still others
spoke of establishing two capitals. Not until 1889 was the decision for Tokyo madepermanent. The government called the emperor’s Tokyo residence a “temporary court”
until that year, when it ofﬁcially renamed it the “Imperial Palace.”6Over these same two decades, as the capital moved, the image of the monarchy
was transformed as well. The government heaped more and more symbolic weight
upon the emperor and empress. The empress and her retinue adopted Western clothes
in the 1880s as part of the effort to project an image of the monarchy as a modern
institution. The emperor also underwent a striking metamorphosis to become the sym­
bol of a modern monarch. The contrast between his earlier portraits and the famous
portrait prepared by an Italian artist in 1888 best illustrates this dramatic change. The

Photograph from 1872 of the Meiji emperor in court
dress on a Japanese-style chair. The young emperor
appears rather ill at ease.

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Sudō Mitsuaki, Meiji Tennō gyoden (Tokyo: Kaneo Bun’endō, 1912).
Courtesy of T. Fujitani.

Sudō Mitsuaki, Meiji Tennō gyoden (Tokyo: Kaneo Bun’endō, 1912).
Courtesy of T. Fujitani.

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This 1873 photograph of the Meiji emperor in Western
military dress, with a Western hairstyle, moustache, andbeard, on a European-style chair, reﬂects the government’s desire to project a modern, Westernized image ofthe new emperor and nation. The emperor’s posturesuggests a young man not yet fully at home in this newrole and image.

This photograph of an 1888 portrait of the adult Meiji
emperor was enshrined in all public schools. The por­trait was the work of a well-known Italian painter, Ed­uardo Chiossone. It provided the ofﬁcial image of Japan’s new modern monarch, contrasting sharply withthe less imposing youthful images of just ﬁfteen years
earlier. This contrast indicates not only the maturationof the emperor but also the new certainty and authorityof the government’s use of his image.
Watanabe Gintarō, Gotaisō goshashinchō, vol. 1 (Tokyo: Shinbash­idō shoten, 1912). Courtesy of T. Fujitani.

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painting was subsequently photographed and enshrined in schools throughout the na­tion. It has deﬁned the Meiji emperor’s image ever since.
At the same time, the constitution greatly elevated the emperor’s legal and cultural
authority. From the 1880s through the 1930s, the imperial institution became an alltoo-powerful unifying force. It served as a touchstone for personal, social, and national
identity. It came to link individuals to immediate communities of family, workplace,and neighborhood—and beyond that to the imagined community of nation and empire.

BUILDING A RICH COUNTRY

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The Meiji leaders, especially those who traveled abroad, were profoundly impressedwith the energies unleashed by industrial capitalism. Manufacturing and trade seemed
as important a source of European national power as did battleships and cannons.
Economic strength, in fact, appeared to be the base that supported the military super­
structure of European states. Kido Kōin was typical of his colleagues in the new
government. While traveling in the United States and Europe in 1872 he ﬁlled hisdiary with references to the “astonishing,” the “indescribable,” or the “magniﬁcent”
achievements of Western architecture, education, and industry.7
Motivated by such awestruck views of Western learning and industry, government
leaders undertook numerous steps to realize the foremost Meiji slogan of building a“rich country, strong army” (fukoku kyōhei). Some initiatives were indirect measures
to build the infrastructure of an industrial economy. Others were direct measures toconstruct and operate mines and factories as government projects.
The most important economic reform of the 1870s was the new tax system. The
new Meiji government began its life in poverty. It drew revenue from a narrow baseof former Tokugawa lands and borrowed funds from some of the major Osaka mer­chant houses. When it replaced autonomous domains with centrally managed prefec­tures in 1871, it inherited the huge obligation of samurai stipends and daimyō pen­sions, but it also gained the opportunity to draw taxes from all the former domains.
¯
In 1873, the government announced a new national land tax designed by Okubo
Toshimichi. It was intended to stabilize state revenues at a level roughly comparable
to the sum total of bakufu and domain taxes.
The signiﬁcance of the new tax system went beyond securing revenue. It changed
the economic relationship of individual landowners to the state and to each other. In
the Tokugawa system, land ownership had been decided by custom in villages. Rev­
enues were collected in lump sums from villages, not from individuals. There was nostate-supervised system of title deeds or land registration and no ofﬁcially sanctioned
market in the purchase and sale of land. In addition, taxes were based on assessed
yield, not assessed value. They were usually collected in kind (in rice). This meantthat the government and not the taxpayer stood to lose (or gain) from ﬂuctuating
commodity prices: If the price of rice fell, so did government revenue.
The tax system of 1873 changed all this. It provided for a national land survey,
conducted in the mid-1870s, that matched an owner to every piece of land and issued
deeds. It also assessed the market value of all plots of land. Finally, it set the land tax
at 3 percent of assessed value. This new system gave the government a predictable

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The Samurai Revolution

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annual revenue. The new tax system also brought the national government into a direct
economic relationship with individual (male) household heads. It shifted the risk andthe opportunity of commodity price changes onto the taxpaying farmer. A farmer
would have to sell a larger portion of his crop to pay the tax if grain prices fell. He
would conversely proﬁt from inﬂation. This made people aware of their economic andpolitical ties to the state as they had never been before. Not surprisingly, taxes andstate budgets became two of the most contentious political issues of the Meiji era.
Over a period of decades, the new government used a portion of these tax reve­nues for public works and institution-building projects to create the infrastructure ofa capitalist industrial economy. It dredged harbors and built lighthouses to improve
coastal shipping. It built telegraph lines beginning in 1869, and in 1871 it opened a
postal system modeled on British practices. It encouraged the founding of joint stockcompanies among private investors. By the mid-1880s it had established a uniform
national currency, the yen, backed by a central bank modeled along European lines.
Most important of all, the government took the lead in building a railroad network.
The ﬁrst line connected Tokyo to Yokohama and was completed in 1872. It was
extended as far as Kobe by 1889. The government also encouraged private investment
in railroads. Many former daimyō and high-ranking samurai pooled their pensions tojoin wealthy commoners in a railroad investment boom in the 1880s that helped bringa modern stock market into existence. By 1890, Japan boasted fourteen hundred milesof railroad, about 40 percent owned and operated by the government, the rest in private
hands.
As it did all over the world, the “iron horse” had a huge cultural as well as
economic impact. It changed people’s sense of time, of distance, and of social behav­
ior. As in the West several decades earlier, Japanese observers in the 1870s and 1880s
invoked now-hackneyed metaphors. The train was a projectile “faster than an arrow”;
it was a conveyance that “shrunk the world.” They also noted that trains, with theirprecise timetables, promoted punctuality. These changes came slowly. Complaints
about “lax and perfunctory” railway performance were common into the early 1900s.
Nevertheless, the fact that customers were complaining itself indicates that attitudes
had changed. The advent of trains meant that for the ﬁrst time in Japanese history, it
became important to calculate time to the minute—rather than the half-hour. This
promoted the use of watches and clocks. Gradually, increased attention to precise
timekeeping spread among the entire population.8
Beyond projects of infrastructure building, the Meiji government played an unu­
sually direct role in building and operating industrial enterprises. Government leaders
were convinced that private investors lacked the initiative and the knowledge to run
modern factories. They were also convinced that foreign investment was dangerous.
They had learned this lesson from their earlier study of “barbarian affairs,” whichtaught them that the British and French had gotten their start in colonizing the Middle
East through loaning money to local rulers. Foreign capital was not banned outright.
But it was certainly not welcomed.
As a result, the ﬁrst modern industrial enterprises in Japan were ﬁnanced largely
from domestic sources, especially from the national treasury. In the 1870s, the stateﬁnanced and ran a number of so-called model enterprises: shipyards, coal and copper
mines, engineering works, arsenals, and cotton-spinning, silk-reeling, glass, sugar, and72

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even beer factories—about two dozen large enterprises in total. Although it was re­luctant to use foreign money for these projects, it was for a time quite anxious toimport foreign people as consultants and managers. At great expense in the 1870s,
the new government engaged several thousand “hired foreigners” (oyatoi gaijin) fromover twenty nations. This term had a pejorative connotation suggesting that the for­eigners brought no value beyond detailed technical expertise. These technicians andexperts offered important advice in a wide range of economic and social endeavors.
They were handsomely paid. Most received salaries at the level of top ofﬁcials in theJapanese government.
Economic historians disagree over the importance of the government’s role inorchestrating economic development in Japan. Some stress that the total investment instate enterprises was far less than in the military; that the government only built twenty
or so factories, a few mines, a telegraph system, and some rail lines; and that noneof these turned a proﬁt. Indeed, most of the “model factories” lost money. In the early
1880s the government sold the money losers among its enterprises at bargain prices
to private investors. The few more successful ventures, primarily coal and metal mines,
were sold later in the decade at more competitive prices. But to dismiss the signiﬁ­cance of this experience is too narrow. A ﬁrst generation of managers and engineers
had been trained. A small industrial wage labor force had been created. These state
enterprises constituted an important launching pad for further growth.
In fact, the government initially had hoped to encourage private investors in new
industrial ﬁelds, but it could not entice or force the Edo era merchants, or landlords,¯
Toshimichi wrote in 1874, “the volume of goods
or others, to take the risk. As Okubo
produced arises partly from the industriousness of the people, but more fundamentally
it must depend upon prior guidance and encouragement by the government and its
ofﬁcials.” Ten years later, after the model factories had been sold off, ofﬁcials werehardly more optimistic. One leading bureaucrat wrote in 1884 that “the Japanese peo­ple [are] generally unaccustomed to handling foreign machinery. They are so ignorantof the science of mechanics that they cannot easily open an ordinary Western lock.
Even if they order machinery from abroad, they cannot operate it.”9 It is probably
fairer to say that the people lacked experience and were appropriately cautious given
the risks faced by these early endeavors, than to call them ignorant or clumsy. But inany case, it seems certain that few of the “model factories” would have been started
so soon by private individuals or groups.
These state activities were important for another reason as well. They generated
faith, both within the government and outside it, in the potential and the importanceof the state’s role in supporting economic development. The idea that the state shouldtake a hands-on stance as promoter of the economy, as opposed to a more detachedrole as referee and regulator, took root in this era. It remained powerful throughout
the twentieth century. The experience of running domain monopolies in Satsuma andChōshū during the Tokugawa era may have given impetus to the government’s eco­nomic programs. But the hands-on state role was less a heritage of traditional Japanese
economic thinking than it was a well-considered new choice made by the Meiji lead­ers. They were developing a view that the world was divided into competing national
economic units. They saw Japan as a latecomer. They were desperate to catch up andto escape semicolonial dependence. To this end, they turned to a German philosophy

73

The Samurai Revolutionof state-led development, in particular to the economic thinking of Friedrich List,
rather than to the British laissez-faire logic of Adam Smith. Other Asian politicalelites have followed their lead, with consequences that remain controversial to thisday.

STANCES TOWARD THE WORLD

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The revolutionary Meiji agenda of the 1870s drew inspiration from a fervent curiosity
about Euro-American technology and ideas. This openness to the West is remarkable
when compared to the expulsionist rhetoric and action of the 1850s and 1860s, which
had been indulged in by some of the very people who led the new government. They
typically began to change their attitudes by accepting the foreign presence and foreigntechnologies as an expedient measure: One had to learn barbarian tricks to defeat
them. But many of the Meiji leaders went on to develop a more profound appreciation
for the enduring power of Western things and ideas.
Travel abroad was the most important educational experience for the young rulersof the Meiji state. In the 1860s both Satsuma and Chōshū, as well as the bakufu, sent
students to study in Europe. These experiences gave future government leaders such¯
Toshimichi of Satsuma andas Itō Hirobumi and Inoue Kaoru of Chōshū and Okubo
business leaders such as Shibusawa Eiichi valuable ﬁrsthand exposure to the West.
But the most important venture abroad was the Iwakura Mission of 1871–73. Several
dozen people, including some of the most powerful ﬁgures in the new government¯
Kido, and Itō) spent eighteen months traveling through the(Iwakura Tomomi, Okubo,
United States and Europe. They observed all manner of institutions and practices,from schools and factories to parliaments. The economic power of modern industry
and the social power of the educated citizens and subjects of the Western nation-states
impressed the mission members profoundly. This experience powerfully motivated theensuing shopping spree in the mall of Western institutions, from central banks anduniversities to post ofﬁces and police forces.
This newfound respect for the value and power of Western ideas coexisted withongoing anger at the unequal political relationship between Japan and the Western
powers. The primary reason for sending the Iwakura Mission in the ﬁrst place was torevise the terms of the unequal treaties of 1858. This prospect was slapped down
sharply by the Americans and Europeans whenever it was raised. The Japanese weretold they had to bring their legal and political system up to European standards before
treaty revision could even be considered.
In such a context, the West continued to be seen as a source of danger as well
as opportunity. Dangers included not just foreign armies and navies. The Meiji leaders
viewed democratic political ideas with great concern. They decided that parliaments
could be divisive institutions rather than sources of unity and strength. From an earlypoint they worried about how to encourage popular support without inviting dangerous
political challenge or mass rebellion.
In addition to political turbulence, the West was seen as a potential source ofsocial anarchy. This was often described with reference to topsy-turvy relations be­
tween men and women. The diaries of bakumatsu and early Meiji travelers to the74

MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5

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West are full of horror at the casual intimacy of men and women, and the unpleasantboldness of the latter. Such observers came to believe—wrongly perhaps—that thestatus of women in the West was higher than in Japan. Some Meiji men worried thatthey might face demands by women for equality in marriage or society at large.
The Meiji leaders and prominent intellectuals held similarly ambivalent attitudes
toward Asia. On one hand, they sometimes called for an Asia-wide (or “pan-Asian”)
solidarity against the predatory imperialism of Western powers. At the same time, the1870s saw the ﬁrst clear signs of a high-handed Asian diplomacy backed by a scornful
attitude that placed Japan above its Asian neighbors. In this view, Japan was Asia’snatural hegemon. It would lead its benighted neighbors to modernization and equality
with the West, whether they liked it or not.
This attitude surfaced with a vengeance in 1873 while the Iwakura Mission was
abroad. Saigō Takamori, a zealous patriot from Satsuma, prodded the caretaker gov­
ernment to plan an invasion of Korea. Japanese traders in the early 1870s were pushing
the Korean government to open trade relations. When the Koreans ﬁrmly refused,
Saigō proposed an invasion to force the issue. In addition to considerations of national
pride, Saigō and his supporters in the government such as Tosa samurai Itagaki Tai­suke, hoped to ensure for the samurai invasion force a proud role in the new Meiji
order.
Neither advocates nor opponents of invasion seemed particularly troubled by theirony that their behavior replicated that of the offensive Westerners in the 1850s. But
the members of the Iwakura Mission strongly opposed the plan on strategic grounds.
Their travels were daily making them more certain that before Japan could project its
power outward, it needed to enact major reforms at home. Alarmed at news of the¯
cut short their itinerary and returned to Tokyo,
impending invasion, Kido and Okubo
where they managed to squash Saigō’s plan. They did not, however, repudiate thenotion that Japan might impose its will on its neighbors by force.
Instead, they agreed the next year (1874) to a smaller action against the island of
Taiwan. Taiwanese aborigines had killed several dozen shipwrecked Okinawan sailors—inhabitants of the Ryūkyū Islands—in 1871. The new Japanese government
sought to include these islands in its territories, so it had demanded reparations, but
the Chinese government also claimed control of the Ryūkyū Islands and had refused¯
Toshimichi now in charge of the government, Japan sent
to pay. In 1874, with Okubo
a punitive military expedition of three thousand soldiers to Taiwan. They lost overﬁve hundred men to tropical disease and made no signiﬁcant military gains. But theJapanese government did extract a modest reparation payment from China.
The fact that military action came three years after the original incident reveals
it to have been in part a strategic concession to the continued strong emotions of thefaction in the government that had pushed to invade Korea in 1873. In addition,
however, Japan’s young government initially sought to use the expedition to establish
military colonies on the island with the long-term goal of “civilizing” the native in­habitants. Japanese leaders were inﬂuenced in their thinking by Western diplomatic
practice of the time, which justiﬁed colonization when carried out in the name of a
mission to civilize native populations. The plan to set up colonies was not made public,
and it was shelved as the expedition began in fear that it might incite a war with
China.10 But through the planning and execution of the Taiwan expedition new ground75

The Samurai Revolution

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was broken. Japan’s rulers not only established a precedent for gunboat diplomacy but
also articulated among themselves the concept of a Japanese mission to bring “civi­
lization” to the rest of Asia.
The rulers also established an expanded set of borders to the Japanese nation inthis ﬁrst decade of nation-building. The northern island known to the Tokugawa rulers
as Ezo, home to the Ainu, was formally incorporated into the Meiji state as theprefecture of Hokkaido in 1869. Over the following years, Meiji rulers sent former
samurai and others, including prison labor, north to open farmland in this newly
claimed territory. A decade later, in 1879, Japan forced the Ryūkyū king to abdicate
and incorporated the Ryūkyū Islands as the prefecture of Okinawa. But the matter ofintegrating the inhabitants of these territories as members of the Japanese nation was
not resolved simply by drawing new borders. The Ainu living in the northern islandof Hokkaido were included in the new system of family registration of 1872, by which
the government deﬁned people as “Japanese.” But they were marked off from the restof the nation in these registers with the label “former native,” and they were not drafted
for military service until the 1890s.11 Okinawans were drawn into the nation evenmore slowly, for fear that a full-scale “Japanization” program would provoke conﬂictwith China. Not until the late 1890s and early twentieth century were policies suchas the draft or the new land tax system extended to Okinawa. While people in the
newly claimed borderlands thus were recognized as Japanese subjects from early in
the Meiji era, the policies to include them in the nation were ambivalent and slow todevelop.

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For more than a century, historians have been arguing over how to describe the pro­found changes of the ﬁrst decades of the Meiji era. Early historians typically used theFrench and other European revolutions since the late eighteenth century as their model,
describing the changes set in motion by the Meiji restoration as an incomplete or
distorted revolution. If one accepts the premise that France in the 1790s furnishes theparadigm for a true revolution, then the changes in Japan indeed were not “complete.”
If one argues that the untrammeled ascendance of a capitalist bourgeoisie that attacks
and defeats an aristocratic old regime is the essence of modern revolution, Japan’schanges do appear “distorted.” After all, it was a faction of the samurai “aristocracy”
more than an emerging class of bourgeois capitalists that imposed the Meiji changes.
Even in recent years, many historians, both in Japan and outside it, have explicitly
or implicitly understood the history of the Meiji era and the early twentieth century
from this sort of comparative perspective. But such an analysis is not helpful. It
arbitrarily imposes a Eurocentric model onto world history and does not make sufﬁ­
cient effort to understand the history of other places on their own terms.
The great changes of the Meiji era constituted a sort of modern “revolution fromabove” because they were imposed by members of the hereditary samurai elite of theold regime. But until 1868, many of these leaders had been frustrated, insecure, andambitious men in the middle to lower ranks of the samurai class. They held greater
privilege than the mass of the population, but to call them aristocratic revolutionaries
from above and leave it at that is misleading. It leaves us with an image of men who

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MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5

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were cosseted in privilege and then gave it up. It was precisely their intermediatestatus and their insecure salaried position, coupled with their sense of frustrated am­
bition and entitlement to rule, that account for the revolutionary energy of the Meiji
insurgents and their far-reaching program of reform. This was a revolution of a frus­
trated subelite.12
In addition to avoiding Eurocentric comparisons, it is crucial to recognize that
the Meiji revolution, like modern revolutions the world over, was an ongoing, turbulent
process. Public schools, the new tax system, and the draft were imposed upon an often
deﬁant population. The unequal treaties remained extremely controversial. Beginningwith the birth of the new Meiji regime, the question of who would participate, andon what terms, was of the greatest importance to a quickly expanding public. The
Meiji revolution had changed much but settled little.

6
Participation and Protest

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In Japan of the Tokugawa era, the idea that common people could play a legitimate
political role hardly existed. Commoners were to be the object of political action, notactors in their own right. A good ruler kept the common people alive, but barely so.
In one stern Edo era injunction, attributed to Tokugawa Ieyasu, “peasants should beneither dead nor alive.” Alternatively, peasants were likened to oil-producing sesame
seeds: “The harder you squeeze them, the more you extract.”1 Political debate among
educated samurai often centered on what one might call the “stupid commoner” prob­
lem. Thus, Aizawa Seishisai in 1825 had written:

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[T]he great majority of people in the realm are stupid commoners; superior men arevery few in number. Once the hearts and minds of the stupid commoners have been
captivated, we will lose control of the realm. . . . The barbarians’ religion [Christianity]
inﬁltrated Kyushu once before, and spread like the plague among stupid commoners.
Within less than a hundred years, 280,000 converts were discovered and brought tojustice. This indicates how fast the contagion can spread.2

Arya

What to do to keep the plague of barbarians from capturing the hearts and mindsof the stupid commoners? Aizawa’s solution in the early 1800s was certainly not toseek commoner loyalty by drawing them into politics as active participants. He wanted
to indoctrinate them more thoroughly than before with a sense of the glorious essenceof the emperor and their need to be loyal to him.
The Meiji political elite extended Aizawa’s reasoning in some very importantways. They came to anchor the new political order in the absolute sovereignty andtranscendance of the imperial institution. But in order to do this, they sought to keep
the emperor outside of politics and above it. The effort contained contradictions anda certain danger. The logic of the emperor-centered polity offered the potential forvarious actors to claim to represent the imperial will.
Despite (and in some ways because of) government efforts to contain and indoc­
trinate the populace, the Japanese political world was quickly opened up to far moreof the “stupid commoners” than the early Meiji leaders—not to mention Aizawa—
could have possibly envisioned. Already in the early 1880s popular movements had
some impact on the critical decision to promulgate a constitution. In the late 1880spolitical agitation in the streets of Tokyo derailed diplomatic negotiations to revise the77

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MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5

unequal treaties between Japan and the Western powers. In 1890 a parliament, called
the Diet, was opened. Elected representatives immediately began to play a signiﬁcant
political role. The political debates and practices of the ﬁrst decades of the Meiji era
opened the way to this unexpected outcome.

POLITICAL DISCOURSE AND CONTENTION

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Already in the closing decades of the Tokugawa era, the door to legitimate politicalparticipation was being pushed open a few signiﬁcant cracks in practice and in theory.
Daimyō large and small had been invited to offer opinions to the bakufu on how tohandle the black ships of Perry and their long-nosed passengers. A belief that an
expanded public was entitled to play a role in politics also spread beyond the daimyō
elite. In the 1850s and 1860s, samurai of various ranks and some of the more afﬂuent
commoners in the cities and countryside were meeting at a variety of sites to discuss
contemporary issues. Their activities were diverse. Schools, study groups, and culturalgroups such as poetry circles were among the most important incubators of a senseof political awareness in the late Tokugawa countryside. Many people, not only theprivileged or powerful, were gripped with a sense that great change was approaching.
They came to feel concerned and sometimes even moved to act.
Especially as the fall of the bakufu loomed imminent in 1866 and 1867, people
from all walks of life came to believe that vast, unpredictable changes were on theway. In the ﬁnal months of Tokugawa rule, showers of good luck charms and im­
promptu carnivals in city streets were signs of this vague expectation of change. Morefocused and immediately relevant were proposals worked up in several domains tocreate deliberative assemblies. These bodies were supposed to play a major role inany new governing structure. Among the most important was Sakamoto Ryōma’s plan,
supported by the Tosa and Echizen daimyō, for a bicameral national assembly. The
upper house would be composed of court nobles and daimyō. Samurai and perhaps
even commoners would be represented in the lower house.
As the new government anxiously looked to consolidate its power in early 1868,
its leaders knew very well that such proposals, and the desire to participate, werewidespread among allies as well as potential opponents. They were anxious both totap into and to control these energies. One very important brief statement of such a
strategy was the Charter Oath of 1868 (also called the Five-Article Oath), issued in
March in the name of the emperor after considerable internal debate by the new
government. It read as follows:
By this oath we set up as our aim the establishment of the national weal on a broad
basis and the framing of a constitution and laws.
1. Deliberative assemblies shall be widely established and all matters decided bypublic discussion.
2. All classes, high and low, shall unite in vigorously carrying out the adminis­
tration of affairs of state.
3. The common people, no less than the civil and military ofﬁcials, shall eachbe allowed to pursue their own calling so that there may be no discontent.
4. Evil customs of the past shall be broken off and everything based upon thejust laws of Nature.

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Participation and Protest

5. Knowledge shall be sought throughout the world so as to strengthen the foun­dations of imperial rule.

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This remarkable document, especially articles 3–5, expressed a spirit of reformthat informed the revolutionary changes imposed by the new government over the next
decade. Equally important were the ﬁrst two articles. They promised to involve some
portion of the population in a process of “public discussion” (in Japanese, kōgi). This
was to be carried out in “deliberative assemblies” with unspeciﬁed powers. Theseambiguous promises were touchstones for much of the political contention of thefollowing decades. Political activists within and outside the government struggled togive the articles speciﬁc meanings that suited their interests and visions.
The government, for its part, later in 1868 built on the vocabulary of the Charter
Oath when it founded a bicameral “national deliberative assembly” (the Kōgisho).
This body was comprised of two houses, along the lines of the Tosa proposal of two
years earlier. The assembly was appointed, not elected, but it had legislative powers.
The new rulers modiﬁed the governing structure several times over the next two de­cades. This ﬁrst assembly was discontinued early on, by July 1869. A second con­sultative assembly replaced this body. It lasted for about a year before it, too, wasadjourned permanently. But the early Meiji government had at least nodded in the
direction of “widely established” deliberation by creating such assemblies.
Simultaneously, those outside the government looked to realize the promise of
the Charter Oath with great enthusiasm. The question of whether to create a consti­
tutional order was a central concern of the expanding world of public debate in theearly Meiji years. Of greatest interest was the possible place of assemblies and popular
representatives within a constitutional system. Debate on these matters played out inthe thriving new forums of opinion journals and newspapers of what has come to becalled the “Japanese enlightenment” of the 1870s.
In this decade a vigorous and partisan press emerged. The ﬁrst daily newspaperin Japan, the Yokohama Mainichi Shinbun, was established in 1871. A daily newspaper
began publication in Tokyo the following year. Called the Nichinichi (Daily) News, it
is predecessor to today’s Mainichi Shinbun. Such publications quickly became thecenter of public debate over the direction of the Meiji government. They called forestablishment of a parliament. Less political and more commercially oriented papers
began publishing at the end of the 1870s, with the founding of the Asahi Shinbun in
Osaka in 1879 (this paper also survives to the present). These newspapers quickly
developed mass circulations. The ensuing competition led to mergers of many smaller
papers. By the end of the 1870s, a core of powerful newspapers was located in Tokyo
and Osaka, and local papers were found in most prefectures.
Translations of Western books formed an important part of this expanding cultural
output. A vast range of political thought was translated. By the late 1870s curious
readers could dip into the works of John Stuart Mill and Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Worksof conservative German statism and the social Darwinism of Herbert Spencer weretranslated and found enthusiastic readers among an increasingly educated public.
The most important single publication of the 1870s enlightenment was probably
the Meiji Six Journal (Meiroku Zasshi). The most important intellectual voice of thisjournal, and indeed of the entire Meiji era, was certainly Fukuzawa Yukichi. The

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journal took its name from the year of its founding (1873). It was published by the
Meiji Six Society, of which Fukuzawa was a founding member. He and his colleagues
played an immensely important role in both introducing and promoting Western ideas
in Japan. Fukuzawa’s many writings are estimated to have sold a total of several
million copies from the 1860s to 1890s. His Conditions in the West, published in three
volumes from 1866 to 1870, was a best-selling introduction to Western institutions,customs, and material culture. His major works of the 1870s, Encouragement of
Learning and Outline of Civilization, promoted a vision of a new Japan marked by aspirit of practical learning, free and skeptical inquiry, and a spirit of independence
and equality of opportunity among the population.
At the heart of the writings of Fukuzawa and colleagues such as Nishi Amane
and Nakamura Masanao (who introduced the utilitarian ideas of John Stuart Mill toJapan) was a belief in the inevitability and value of “progress” toward a state of“civilization.” These men saw the nation-states of the contemporary West as the fore­
front of world civilization. They valued the strivings of individuals in Japan not somuch for the sake of individual happiness as for their contribution toward national
progress and strength.

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MOVEMENT FOR FREEDOM AND PEOPLE’S RIGHTS

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From the 1870s into the 1880s, such ideas mixed with earlier hopes for expanded
participation and social renovation to spark much political debate. The most signiﬁcant
political drive was the “movement for freedom and people’s rights.” This was a beastof many faces, a varied series of popular initiatives that posed a major challenge tothe new Meiji government. Two fundamental questions concerned the politically aware
men, and some women, who sustained the popular rights movements. First, what sortof new political structure should be adopted? Second, who would participate? Dis­
cussion very quickly focused on the need to write a fundamental document that would
answer these questions, that is, a constitution.
By the early 1870s, a simple logic framed virtually all political discourse, both
among those serving in the government and those on the outside. The strongest statesin the world were in the West. They had constitutions. Japanese people wanted toform a strong state, so they needed a constitution, too. The premise of this syllogism
was that national power was of primary importance. Constitutions were seen by therulers, and by most of those who objected to the narrow base of the new government,
not mainly as guarantees of individual freedom and happiness or welfare. They wereat their root documents whose basic laws would contain and mobilize the energies ofthe populace on behalf of a great national mission to build wealth and power.
From 1872 to 1873 a consensus in support of adopting a constitution of some
sort emerged within the government. At almost the same time, and with a particularplea for a representative assembly, the call for a constitution became the rallying cry
for a variety of non-government, or anti-government, organizations. These wereformed in localities scattered around the country. They gradually came to coordinate
their efforts and form the national networks that comprised the core of the Movementfor Freedom and Popular Rights. As the new Meiji leaders gradually concentrated

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Participation and Protest

political power in the hands of a narrow group of former samurai from Satsuma andChōshū, the popular rights activists were able to make increasingly credible charges
that a new “Sat-Chō” dictatorship had replaced the old Tokugawa tyranny.
The ﬁrst local popular rights group was founded in the former Tosa domain inearly 1874 by Itagaki Taisuke. The group was called the Patriotic Public Party (Aikoku
Kōtō). The priority given to the concept of patriotic action on behalf of the nation issigniﬁcant. Itagaki had left the government several months earlier in a rage when theplan to invade Korea was overturned. Unlike Saigō Takamori, who took his anger inthe direction of armed rebellion, Itagaki and his allies submitted a memorial to thegovernment calling for a national assembly. They argued that free discussion andrepresentative government were necessary to build a strong nation, as in this statementin their famous “Memorial on the Establishment of a Representative Assembly” ofJanuary 1874:

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The object which our government ought therefore to promote is by the establishmentof a council-chamber chosen by the people to arouse in them a spirit of enterprise,
and to enable them to comprehend the duty of participating in the burdens of theempire and sharing in the direction of its affairs, and then the people of the wholecountry will be of one mind.3

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This manifesto won wide attention. Itagaki himself gained a reputation as thepremier advocate of parliamentary constitutional government. The reputation was only
partly deserved. Itagaki was an opportunist who more than once left his fellow activists
in the lurch to return to the government with high rank. His organizing began with arelatively narrow base of support, primarily among former samurai. In addition tocalls for political reform, he focused on winning relief for the once-proud, now im­
poverished samurai. Further, despite the calls for free deliberation, some former sam­urai supporters of the movement inherited the violent spirit of the bakumatsu “menof action,” for whom pure motives were sufﬁcient to justify dramatic acts of politicalterror.
Itagaki’s initial organizations soon collapsed. But by the late 1870s, a fastspreading interest at the grass roots of society in a constitution and parliament sus­
tained a renewed movement for popular political participation. In the years from 1879
to 1881, in particular, local activists formed nearly two hundred political societies in
the cities and countryside. Members included both farmers and former samurai. They
undertook an unprecedented popular mobilization that gradually came together into
two national political parties, with all the features of such bodies except the chance
to contest national elections. They had dues-paying members in local units. They wrote
bylaws to allow local groups to send representatives to national conventions to hammer
out a platform and action program. These groups held rallies and founded journals.
Leading members barnstormed on speaking tours of the Japanese countryside, holding
grand fund-raising banquets with local supporters. They also collected tens of
thousands of signatures on hundreds of petitions demanding a constitution and a par­liament, which they submitted to the government.
In addition, the popular rights movement gained power by appropriating tradi­tional symbols for its cause. Supporters performed plays with Tokugawa-vintage bunraku puppets, whose kimono were adorned with the written characters for “freedom”

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Popular rights movement puppet, with characters for “freedom” (jiyū �) embroidered on
the front of the kimono. These puppets were used in the bunraku theater so popular in cities
during the Tokugawa era. This newly designed puppet costume shows how the call for popu­
lar rights and freedoms was integrated into popular culture and broadcast beyond an intel­
lectual elite.
Courtesy of Tōru Senuma.

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(jiyū). New children’s rhyming songs echoed the call for popular rights. And the ideas
of many activists mixed Confucian concepts of the ruler’s obligation to practice be­
nevolent government with Western ideas of natural human rights in political affairs.
What was particularly noteworthy about political life in Japan at this time is theself-generated activity of so many people at the grass roots of society. They came
together in ad hoc study groups to read and debate, to write petitions or manifestos,or even to draft model constitutions. Some met in relatively elegant townhouses inTokyo. Others met in crude rural huts. Some of their efforts lay buried in storehouses
for the better part of a century, ﬁnally to be discovered in recent years by scholars
practicing a so-called people’s history, which searched for the political creativity ofcommon people in such documentary remains.
Popular rights activity took place in a variety of forums. Groups called “industrial
societies” were formed in the countryside to discuss issues such as new farming tech­niques, cooperative experimental stations, or high rates of taxation. Landowners andleading local families were usually the organizers. Typical members included village
heads, teachers, local merchants, shrine ofﬁcials, and doctors. The government deci­sion to establish a Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce in 1881 was a step to co­opt and control such local energies.
Popular political education and activism also took place in city-based study
groups. These were comprised primarily of journalists and educators, often former
samurai, who made up the urban intelligentsia of the Meiji era. The most famousstudy societies evolved into Japan’s leading private universities: Fukuzawa Yukichi’s¯
Shigenobu’s organization formedgroup developed into Keio University, and Okuma
the core of Waseda University.
Parallel to these urban academic groups were many rural cultural societies andpolitical associations. These were the most numerous organizing units of the politicalferment for popular rights. In contrast to those in rural “industrial societies,” themembers of these study groups tended to be former samurai. They read and discussed
political philosophy as well as economic and agricultural texts. Often their delibera­
tions led to a decision to take action, most typically in the form of submitting a petition
to the Meiji government calling for a constitution and popular assembly.
The total membership of such organizations was a small minority of the entire
population of Japan. But measured against the standard of the Tokugawa past, it seems
appropriate to regard the glass of political activism in the 1870s and 1880s as half
full rather than half empty. A larger portion of the populace than ever was engaged
in the great political issues of Japan’s modern emergence.
First and foremost among the issues so intensely debated was the place of theemperor. What would his powers and role be, in relation to bureaucrats, parliament,
and the populace as a whole? With the rare exceptions of intellectuals strongly inﬂu­
enced by the model of France and its Declaration of the Rights of Man and Revolution,
in Meiji Japan one ﬁnds no “republicans” in the classic sense of that term. That is,all parties to the political debate wanted the emperor to be a sovereign ﬁgure at thecenter of the political order. But there were vigorous discussions of how such an order
was to be arranged, and one ﬁnds rather little evidence of the taboos and sense of
awe that later came to be so oppressive in any discussion of the emperor. Some localgroups talked freely of sharply restricting the emperor’s powers. One of the most84

MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5

famous “draft constitutions” was discovered in a farm storehouse outside the town of
Itsukaichi in 1967. It included an article giving the national assembly power to “passjudgement on and revise proposals emanating from the bureaucracy and from theEmperor.”4
The proper extent of rights and powers of the people was the second, closely
related issue at the center of public debate. The privately drafted constitutions typicallyprovided for elected assemblies with powers over the purse and some authority tomake treaties with foreign nations, draft legislation, and control the executive branch.
For example, the Itsukaichi document, considered to stand on the moderate side of
the various drafts discovered in recent decades, stipulated thatiety

if the government transgresses the constitutional principles of religion, morality, free­
dom of belief, and individual freedom, or if it does not respect the principle of theequality of all people and the right to property as written in the constitution . . . then
the national assembly shall have the power to argue resolutely against . . . and prohibit
such acts.5

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This was not a very practical legal provision. It did not specify who would decide
when the government “transgresses constitutional principles.” But it is a clear example
of a grassroots interest in limiting the power of the state.
The peak of popular rights activism came from 1880 to 1881. Groups all aroundthe country collected at least 250,000 signatures on more than one hundred petitions
submitted to the government in Tokyo. Hundreds of local organizations joined into anational federation that organized three “preparatory conventions” in Tokyo. The del­egates to the third such gathering met in October 1881. They declared themselves a“political party,” the Liberal Party (Jiyūtō), and immediately held their ﬁrst national
convention. The party platform called for popular sovereignty and the convening of aconstitutional convention.
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A few months later, in early 1882, a second group coalesced around Okuma
Shigenobu. This former samurai activist from the domain of Hizen had just been
ousted from his position as government minister, in part because he advocated a con­stitution that provided for a powerful parliament on a British model. His Progressive
Party (Kaishintō) was more moderate than the Liberal Party in its demands. It hadstrong support among the emerging business elite.
It is no coincidence that in October 1881, precisely as this political mobilizing
was reaching a peak of intensity and size, the Meiji government had the emperor
announce that a constitution would be written and promulgated by 1890. The leaders
who took this step were spurred by a sharp sense of crisis. In 1879 Yamagata Aritomo
had written to Itō Hirobumi that “every day we wait, the evil poison [of popular rights
agitation] will spread more and more over the provinces, penetrate into the minds ofthe young, and inevitably produce unfathomable evils.”6 Two years later, in 1881, Itō’s
trusted aide, Inoue Kowashi, wrote in a similar spirit. He wanted the government toquickly write a conservative, state-centered constitution:
If we lose this opportunity and vacillate, within two or three years the people will
become conﬁdent that they can succeed and no matter how much oratory we use . . .

85Participation and Protest

public opinion will cast aside the draft of a constitution presented by the government,
and the private drafts of the constitution will win out in the end.7

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The popular rights movement was an important factor inﬂuencing the timing anddirection of the government’s decision to adopt a constitution. But the Meiji leaders
were not simply caving in to the opposition. They had already decided that constitu­
tional government was needed to secure international respect for Japan and to mobilize
the energies of the people behind projects to build a “rich nation and strong army.”
In 1878 they took a ﬁrst step in this direction by establishing elected prefecturalassemblies nationwide, with advisory powers only. The government hoped thereby to
win the support of the rural elite of property owners (voting rights were limited tothose who paid the highest land taxes). In fact the assemblies often became hotbeds
of popular rights agitation.
The unprecedented popular rights campaigns of petitioning and speechmaking
inﬂuenced the decision to adopt a constitution in two ironic ways. First, they led thegovernment to adopt repressive censorship laws. The ﬁrst set was promulgated in 1875.
These were tightened the following year and reinforced once more in 1887. Second,the campaigns also intensiﬁed the determination of government ﬁgures to write aconservative constitution modeled on the Prussian constitution of 1854. This document
gave the king and his ministers much power and limited the rights of the people. For
the Meiji rulers to write a constitution that upheld their vision of limited civil rights
and marginal popular participation was not particularly difﬁcult. Actually using theconstitution to enforce such a vision would prove much harder.

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Several other sharp challenges to the authority of the new government took place inthese decades. Volatile reactionary demands to stem the pace of change or turn backthe clock exploded in the 1870s. Commoners opposed to the military draft destroyed
registration centers. Those upset at compulsory education and local school taxes de­molished thousands of newly built schools. In addition, several rebellions of the ex­
propriated former samurai took place in the mid-1870s.
These samurai uprisings had some motives and goals in common with the lessviolent popular rights agitation. They shared anger at being left out of the decisionmaking process. Frustrated former samurai in the 1870s saw two ways to inﬂuence
the new government. Some tried to write new rules of participation. Others forced theissue with swords and guns. In addition, both the popular rights activists and thesamurai rebels shared a very bellicose stand on foreign policy. They were in fact moreaggressive than those in the government. Thus, when the debate over a Korean invasion
split the government in 1873 both Itagaki Taisuke and Saigō Takamori quit their posts.
Itagaki launched the popular rights movement. Saı̄go eventually led an armed
rebellion.
Saigō’s insurrection, the Satsuma rebellion, was the largest of several. In 1874
another member of the war faction who left the government, Etō Shinpei, led a forceof twenty-ﬁve hundred warriors in an attack on the prefectural government of Saga

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MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5

Arya

Police interrupting a speaker at a popular rights rally in the 1880s draw the wrath of thecrowd for this suppression. In response to the agitation for popular rights, the government
tightened censorship laws and stationed police observers on the stage at all political rallies.
Speakers who crossed the line of acceptable rhetoric with strong anti-government statements
were ﬁrst cautioned, and then halted. For audience members, part of the excitement of at­
tending these rallies was the possibility of watching or joining such a raucous moment.
Courtesy of Meiji Shinbun Zasshi Bunkō, Faculty of Law, University of Tokyo.

(in Kyushu). They wanted to reinstate their daimyō and reclaim their samurai stipends.
Similar but smaller insurgencies, each involving several hundred former samurai, took
place in Kumamoto and Fukuoka prefectures in 1876, also both in Kyushu. All theseactions were quickly suppressed by troops of the new government, and the leaders
were executed.
During these years, Saigō himself returned to his home of Kagoshima (the former
Satsuma domain), also in Kyushu. There he founded a private military academy. His
local support was so strong that Kagoshima prefecture had effectively seceded from

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the national government by 1876. The prefecture forwarded no taxes to Tokyo. It
ignored other social reform orders of the Meiji government. Then, in the winter of
1877, Saigō set off with a force of ﬁfteen thousand soldiers from Kagoshima on amarch ultimately headed for Tokyo. His goal was to overthrow the government andrestore samurai privilege. As the rebels proceeded through strongly anti-government
territory into the neighboring prefecture of Kumamoto, Saigō’s army quickly mush­roomed to forty thousand men. It attacked the government troops who occupied Ku­
mamoto castle. This siege failed when a large government army (over sixty thousandmen) arrived to reinforce the local garrison. Three weeks of bloody ﬁghting ended ina massive defeat for the rebels. They suffered about twenty thousand casualties. Morethan six thousand goverment soldiers were killed, and ninety-ﬁve hundred were
wounded. Saigō committed suicide rather then be captured and executed. To this day,he remains a popular hero, revered as an exemplar of pure motives and loyalty to acause, however hopeless. But his defeat made it clear that there would be no turning
back to the old social order. Farmer conscripts had proven their worth against thesamurai troops. Armed resistance to the new government was widely recognized to
be impossible.
Even so, the poverty suffered by some farmers in the following years led themto raise arms against vastly superior forces on several occasions. These peasant up­
risings were sparked especially by high levels of debt suffered by tenant farmers andsmall-scale producers of silk cocoons. Government economic policies of the early
1880s brought on sharp deﬂation. Rice and raw silk prices fell to roughly half their
1880 levels by 1884. Since overall prices fell by just one quarter, farmers who de­pended heavily on revenue from the sale of rice and silk products fared worse thanothers. Ambitious small landholders, sparked by dreams of just a bit more income ina new era of opportunity, had already taken loans to convert hillside ﬁelds to mulberry
production for raising silkworms. They suddenly had to borrow even more simply to
pay their taxes, which did not decrease with deﬂation. Many defaulted and lost theirﬁelds to moneylending landlords.
In numerous prefectures, especially in the silk-intensive regions in the Kantōregion, these farmers organized groups with names such as Debtors Party or Poor
People’s Party. They demanded that creditors, usually local landlords, reduce or cancel
their debts or suspend demand for payments. The largest uprising took place in the
Chichibu region about ﬁfty miles west of Tokyo. In early November 1884, six thou­sand men raised a ragtag army. They attacked and destroyed government ofﬁces anddebt certiﬁcates. Marching from village to village, they drew in new supporters andtrashed the homes of moneylenders. Local police were overwhelmed. The government
eventually called in the army, and after about ten days the Meiji state’s troops put
down this rebellion rather easily. Five leaders were later tried and executed. A numberof local Liberal Party members took part in these rebellions, and some of the rebels
called themselves “soldiers of the Liberal Party.” The party’s national leadership was
not involved, but they nonetheless disbanded the party rather than risk accusation of
supporting insurrection.
In addition to armies of samurai rebels and parties of poor farmers, a number of
powerful new religions constituted a third challenge to the new government. Some ofthese, such as the Tenri and Konkō religions, had been founded in the late Tokugawa

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MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5

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religions, emerged early in thedecades. Others, such as the Maruyama and Omoto
Meiji era. By the late 1870s the Maruyama and Tenri organizations each claimed
several hundred thousand adherents. These religions typically began when a founding
ﬁgure, often a woman, became possessed of divine inspiration and wrote down or
dictated the sacred scripture of the sect. Their teachings often called for restraint inthis life in the expectation of salvation in the next. But as in Tokugawa times, theyalso preached messages of present-day deliverance through a sudden equalization of
wealth, so-called yonaoshi, or “world rectiﬁcation.” They shared fury at the inequitablesocial and economic system with supporters of the Debtors and Poor Farmer’s parties.
On occasion this led to similar sorts of violent action and rumors of organizational
links. In one incident in 1884, for example, just a week after the Chichibu uprising,supporters of the Maruyama sect in Shizuoka prefecture demanded immediate equal­
ization of wealth and launched attacks that destroyed government ofﬁces.
These challenges to the new regime had complex social and regional sources.
Former samurai, wealthy farmers, and poor farmers were three groups behind popular
rights activism, while the former samurai and indebted farmers were main supportersof armed rebellion or new religions. Ironically, samurai resistance, whether throughthe popular rights movement or via rebellion, was strongest in the areas of greatest
support for the 1868 restoration. These samurai, in Kyushu and Tosa above all, had
expected to play a role in the new government that they brought to power. When they
became disillusioned at its course, or felt excluded, they were more likely than others
to act. Peasant protests were greatest in areas of commercialized farming, especiallysilk-producing regions where farmers were most vulnerable to the ﬂuctuations of na­
tional and international markets.

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The turbulent social responses to the Meiji revolution also involved extensive ques­tioning of gender roles and ideologies. Horror at the anarchic mixing of men andwomen in the West had been apparent in the writings of some of the earliest Japaneseofﬁcial travelers. In 1860, for instance, Muragaki Norimasa wrote this account of abakufu mission to the United States, which was entertained at a ball at the State
Department:
Men and women moved round the room couple by couple, walking on tiptoe to thetune of the music. It was just like a number of mice running around and around. It
is indeed odd that the Prime Minister should invite an ambassador of another country
to an event of this sort! My sense of displeasure is boundless; there is no respect fororder and ceremony or obligation.8

He was equally aghast when a young American woman had the impudence to quiz
him rather naively about Japanese political and social customs at a state dinner.
Despite such views, the new government cautiously encouraged select women toplay an active role in support of its programs. It included ﬁve young women (agesnine through sixteen) in the group of students who accompanied the Iwakura Mission.
These youths stayed on in the United States to receive an American education andbecome model women for constructing a new Japan. Compared to the young men

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who accompanied the mission, they received less attention and support. One returned
almost immediately; one died in America. Two returned and married comfortably into
the ruling elite, leaving little independent legacy. But the youngest of these students,
Tsuda Ume (nine years old when she left Japan), became a powerful ﬁgure promoting
expanded social roles for women. Upon her return, she founded a college for women
today known as Tsuda University, and she became a leader in women’s education.
In these same years, a vigorous debate on appropriate roles and rights for womenand men unfolded among those outside the government. At least in the documentarysources left to historians, this debate began with men discussing how women ought
to be treated. The best known forum was the Meiji Six Journal. Some of the mostimportant intellectuals of the time, including Fukuzawa Yukichi and Mori Arinori(later to be minister of education), wrote on the meaning of equality between men
and women, the value of education for women, and the demerits of legally recognizing
concubines and giving their children rights of inheritance.9 Opinions on all these issues
ranged widely. But as in the West in the late nineteenth century, the mainstream ofreformist sentiment was decidedly cautious. Contributors to the Meiji Six Journal tookcare to distinguish between equal respect for men and women in their separate spheres,
which they usually encouraged, and equality of political or legal rights in society atlarge, which they rarely favored. Commentators feared that the latter would only bringdivisive conﬂict between the sexes and destroy social harmony. Consider, for example,
this 1875 essay by Sakatani Shiroshi:

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The words equal rights, therefore, should not establish equality in life generally, al­though they may provide equality in the bedchamber. If today we establish this equal­
ity between the sexes in all aspects of life, we shall reach the point where the men
will strive to oppress the women while the women attempt to oppress the men. . . . In
sum, the word “rights” includes evil.10

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Some women took their own steps to give meaning to the concepts of civilizationand enlightenment that had been put forward in the ﬁrst instance for men only. In one
example, the early Meiji government promoted dramatic change in personal grooming
for samurai men in 1871. It issued an order “encouraging them” to abandon the old
top-knot for a Western haircut. Once the emperor did this, most samurai men followed
his model. Some women in Tokyo then decided to make a similar change on theirown. They organized an association calling for shorter and more practical hairstyles.
They set an example with their own short cuts. The government responded in 1872by outlawing short hair for women. According to this order of the state, even older
women who had health reasons to wear short hair had to get a license to do so, atleast if they were to go to a barbershop or hairdresser for the procedure.
Other women took demands for change into the political forum of the Movementfor Freedom and Popular Rights. For a brief span from the late 1870s into the early
1880s, women played a signiﬁcant role both as speakers and in large numbers as
members of the audience at popular rights rallies. A few stalwarts, most famously
Kishida Toshiko and Fukuda Hideko, began to make well-attended speeches advocat­
ing equal political and legal rights for women and men. Kishida condemned what she
called outmoded notions of “contempt for women and respect for men.” She deﬁned“progress” and “civilization” as a situation in which women would have political and90

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economic rights on a par with men. She called for education for women and equality
within the family. She attacked the legality of concubines, which gave a man’s wifeand her children no greater claim on the husband’s resources than a mistress had.
Fukuda later recalled in her autobiography:
Listening to her [Kishida Toshiko] speech, delivered in that marvelous oratorical style,
I was unable to suppress my resentment and indignation . . . and began immediately
to organize women and their daughters . . . to take the initiative in explaining andadvocating natural rights, liberty, and equality . . . so that somehow we might muster
the passion to smash the corrupt customs of former days relating to women.11

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For the men in the popular rights movement, a speaker like Kishida was both a threat
and an opportunity. She increased the likelihood that the government might crack
down on the movement. But she was a marvelous draw who brought enthusiastic andcurious crowds into lecture halls or open-air rallies.
For their part, the Meiji rulers by the 1880s had concluded that their own wives
might play a semipublic role as models and representatives of the nation to the world.
Muragaki’s shock at American dancing in the 1860s became an old-fashioned attitude.
Elite men and women took up ballroom dancing and entertained foreigners at grandparties in the heart of Tokyo. And in public discussions among men, even in thegovernment, the idea that women might support the nation with a political role hadsome support. Top ofﬁcials as well as journalists discussed whether it might not beappropriate for female as well as male children in the imperial line to ascend to thethrone. In the mid-1880s some prominent government ﬁgures supported this idea.
The two major popular rights parties both collapsed in 1884 because of factional
inﬁghting, the taint of association with peasant rebellions, and state repression. Theirleaders soon regrouped. But the close alliance between male party politicians andactivist women was not revived, even after the constitution was promulgated. Womeninterested in political or social action turned to activity as teachers or writers or or­
ganized nominally apolitical groups such as the Tokyo Women’s Reform Society.
The government was in large part responsible for this retreat in women’s politicalactivity. It decided to limit imperial succession to males. On the eve of promulgating
the constitution in 1889, it issued a series of laws that barred women from joining
political organizations, speaking at or attending political gatherings, or even sitting as
observers in the Diet gallery. These measures provoked a ﬂurry of outraged commen­tary by leading women educators and social reformers, such as Shimizu Toyoko and
Yajima Kajiko. They particularly ridiculed the ban on observing Diet proceedings.
They asked: Did this mean that Japan’s male elites expected their own behavior tooffer a harmful example to observers? A number of male politicians and journalists
echoed this question. The government backed down on this one point and allowed
women into the Diet gallery. But most men in the popular rights movement werecloser to their government colleagues than to their erstwhile female allies in theirdiscomfort with the notion of political rights for women; the other more substantial
prohibitions remained in force.
As Japan’s rulers were promoting change, they were anxiously seeking to manage
and control it. A fear of allowing women to transgress narrow boundaries of proper
place and behavior remained powerful. The rulers’ ambivalent reformism was partic­

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ularly strong when it came to deﬁning appropriate roles for women in realms as
personal as hairstyles and as political as speaking at public rallies.

TREATY REVISION AND DOMESTIC POLITICS

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Although the two parties that emerged at the forefront of the popular rights movement
both collapsed in 1884, energetic popular activism continued through the decade. Ifanything, despite the folding of the Liberal and Progressive parties, the government’s
ability to impose its will against popular wishes decreased in the late 1880s. Nowhere
was this as clear as in the tortured effort to negotiate more equal treaties with theWestern powers. The government’s plan to partially revise these treaties in the midto late 1880s sparked opposition and emotional discussion of Japan’s proper place inthe world. In addition, like the controversial question of the constitution in the 1870s,
the treaty issue in the 1880s stimulated powerful demands for a political order that
respected the popular will.
The Iwakura Mission had failed in its effort of 1873 to open negotiations to revise
the “unequal treaties.” For the rest of the decade, the government focused on more
limited goals. It offered to open more ports to foreign trade if the Western powers
would return partial Japanese control over tariffs. The British refused any concessions,and these efforts came to naught. In the early 1880s a new foreign minister, Inoue
Kaoru, pleaded with more success for a multi-national conference in Tokyo to discuss
treaty revisions. Ministers from all the treaty powers ﬁnally gathered in Tokyo in May
1886. By the following April they had drafted an agreement that Japan could regaintariff autonomy and nearly complete jurisdiction over the treaty ports. In exchange,
Japan would open all its territory to foreign residence and commerce.
There were two crucial limitations in the agreement. First, it called for the Jap­
anese government to submit the text of the new Japanese legal codes, just being draftedat that time, to all the powers for their inspection before new treaties could take effect.
In addition, the agreement committed the Japanese government to hire foreign judges
to sit in Japanese courts and hear cases concerning foreigners. A vociferous chorus ofprotest arose in response. People complained that these conditions allowed intolerable
ongoing violation of Japanese sovereignty. One key government ofﬁcial, Minister ofAgriculture and Commerce Tani Kanjō, quit his post in anger at the proposed changes.
He blasted them as worse than the status quo. He became a somewhat reluctant popularhero. Former Liberal and Progressive party activists renewed their organizing nation­
wide. They ﬂooded the government with petitions against treaty revision on theseterms. The major newspapers ran ﬁerce anti-revision editorials. Roughly two thousand
youths streamed into Tokyo to protest the proposed changes. They held demonstrations
and mass visits to government ofﬁces. In the words of one ofﬁcial, “The hearts of thepeople are stirred to an extreme degree, and this invites the collapse of the cabinet.”12
In the face of this protest, the government was indeed forced to abandon the proposed
revisions, and Inoue resigned as foreign minister.
¯
Shigenobu, fared little better. He managed to negotiate a
His successor, Okuma
slightly more favorable set of revisions with the treaty powers in 1889, but these also
ran into a mixed reaction within the government and strong opposition outside it.

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MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5Once again, petitions demanding completely equal treaties poured into the capital. In
October 1889, a member of an ultra-nationalist political organization, the Genyōsha,¯
and then committed suicide by cutting open his stomach.
hurled a bomb at Okuma
Ōkuma lost a leg but survived. The government abandoned the revision plan, and thecabinet resigned.
The participants in the turbulent politics of treaty revision mixed the ﬁerce, violent
politics of the bakumatsu “men of action” with a Western-style politics of editorial
writing, petitioning, and lobbying. They ranged from knowledgeable democratic na­
tionalists to small-time thugs looking for action. They carried forward an enduringanti-foreign sentiment and loyalty to the emperor from the ﬁnal years of the Tokugawa
era. They combined these older views with a new belief that only a political systemthat gave freedom and political rights to the people could bring national strength andinternational respect.

iety

THE MEIJI CONSTITUTION

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As the government polished the ﬁnal drafts of the constitution, these agitations—which forced two cabinet ministers to resign—vividly reminded the Meiji rulers ofthe messiness and danger of popular participation in politics. It is no surprise that the
document formally promulgated in a grand ceremony in 1889 was written and pre­sented in a way that sought to maximize the power of the state and minimize that ofthe people.
The constitution was drafted secretly in 1886 and 1887 by a talented group under
the direction of Itō Hirobumi and Inoue Kowashi. Itō had studied European consti­
tutions in Europe. He brought ﬁrst-rate foreign legal advisors back to Japan, mostprominently a German professor of law, Hermann Roessler. The document was dis­cussed by top government ofﬁcials in 1888 in a body newly created for this purpose,
the Privy Council. This council continued to function as an extra-constitutional ad­visory group once the constitution was promulgated. It served as one site where the
Meiji leaders could manage the political system. This small group of leaders came beknow as the Meiji “oligarchs” (genrō in Japanese), a term coined by the press in 1892.
The original oligarchs were the key men, such as Itō Hirobumi and Yamagata Aritomo,
who had come to dominate the cabinet and the bureaucracy in the 1880s. The genrō
were an informal body, in the sense that there was no constitutional provision forthem. But informal did not mean ambiguous or unclear. The identity of the oligarchs
was well known.13 For the rest of their lives, they continued to pull the strings ofpolitics, but as they grew older they stepped back from the front lines of political
battle to positions such as leadership of the Privy Council.
The constitution was handed down, quite literally, as a gift from the emperor tohis prime minister and the people on February 11, 1889. It began, in the preamble,
with an unequivocal declaration of imperial sovereignty: “The right of sovereignty of
the State, We have inherited from Our Ancestors, and We shall bequeath it to Our
descendants.” Cabinet ministers were to be responsible to the emperor and not to theDiet. However, the prospect of direct imperial despotism was checked in a general
way in the preamble, which went on to state that “Neither We nor [our descendants]

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shall in the future fail to wield the [rights of sovereignty], in accordance with theprovisions of the present Constitution and of the law.” In the constitution itself, thepower of the bureaucracy in relation to the throne was bolstered by the requirementthat cabinet ministers cosign all imperial orders. The constitution gave a special in­dependence to the military general staff, via the “right to supreme command.” This
was article 11, which speciﬁed that the military was directly responsible to the em­
peror. The constitution granted a variety of civil rights to the people. All of these,
however, were made conditional on “limits established by law.”
The Diet itself was composed of an elected House of Representatives and a Houseof Peers. In preparation for the latter, the government had instituted a European-stylesystem of peers in 1885. It variously titled about ﬁve hundred prominent court, gov­
ernment, and military ofﬁcials as prince, marquis, count, viscount, and baron. Mem­bers of the House of Peers consisted of some of these ﬁgures, in addition to
distinguished individuals appointed by the emperor and a handful of the highest tax­
payers in the nation. This house was intended to be one more restraint on popularparticipation.
Even so, the constitution left important room for the electorate to assert its wishes.
The deﬁnition of eligible voters was to be set by law, and the Diet had power to writeand pass laws. It also had the crucial power to approve or veto the annual state budget.
The government created a loophole with a clause that provided for the previous year’s
budget to automatically take effect if the Diet failed to pass the new budget. But ascosts of government steadily increased, this escape hatch was of little help. Once theconstitution took effect, the Meiji oligarchs were forced to take heed of the wishes ofDiet representatives far more than they had expected or hoped.

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The promulgation of a constitution and the convening of an elected Diet meant thatJapan was a nation of subjects with both obligations to the state and political rights.
Obligations included military service for men, school attendance for all, and the in­dividual payment of taxes. Rights included suffrage for a few and a voice in deciding
the fate of the national budget. The fact that these rights were limited to men of
substantial property is important. Under the ﬁrst election law, only about 1 percent of
the total population paid sufﬁcient taxes to qualify for the vote. Clearly the constitution
was expected by its authors to contain the opposition. But to stress only the limitations
placed on popular rights by the Meiji constitution is to miss its historical signiﬁcanceas a source of future change. The undeniable fact was that a constitutionally mandated,
elected national assembly—with more than advisory powers—now existed. This
clearly implied that a politically active and potentially expandable body of subjects or
citizens also existed. Indeed, as the oligarchs decided to adopt a constitution, they
were acutely aware that such a body politic was in the process of forming itself anddeveloping its own ideas about the political order.

7
Social, Economic, and Cultural
Transformations

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In just three decades, from the 1860s to the 1890s, the Japanese economy emerged as
an Asian powerhouse. It came to be called “the Workshop of Asia,” a cliché thatpersisted far into the twentieth century. By the 1890s, textile manufacturers dominatedhome markets. They began competing successfully with British ﬁrms in China andIndia, as well. Japanese shippers were competing with European traders to carry thesegoods even to Europe.
Taking a long view, the economic takeoff of Meiji Japan was a formidable
achievement. This is the case whether one compares Japan to other countries or com­pares the standards of living within Japan in the 1860s to those of decades later. But
the immediate impact of the industrial revolution was disastrous for many people inJapan. Especially hard hit were members of two large, overlapping groups: small-scalefamily farmers and young women workers. Huge numbers of farmers lost their lands
to moneylenders, and hundreds of thousands of teenage girls experienced the hardshipof labor in the thread mills, the weaving sheds, the match factories, and the expanding
brothels of the new Japan.
A divided judgment applies also to the cultural transformations of these decades.
Japanese writers and artists embraced new forms from novels to oil painting, whileolder traditions from poetry writing to bunraku chanting showed ongoing vitality. But
a profound anxiety that something was being lost in the headlong rush to a Westernfocused modernity surfaced with increasing intensity in the 1880s and 1890s. This
worry pushed intellectuals to improvise new concepts of Japanese “tradition.” It also
linked up with the fear of social disorder and political challenge among state ofﬁcials.
They responded by putting in place oppressive limits on individual thought andbehavior.

LANDLORDS AND TENANTS
Agrarian society played a critical role in the economic transformation of Meiji Japan.
It was a vital source of the labor power, food, tax revenues, and export earnings thatmade the industrial revolution possible.
From 1880 through 1900 Japan’s population rose from about thirty-ﬁve to fortyﬁve million people. At the same time, the rural, agricultural population declined
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slightly. Millions of people migrated from villages to towns or from towns to major
cities. They moved as well from agriculture to commerce and manufacturing indus­
tries. Given these shifts, a demographic crisis could be avoided only by food imports
or increased domestic output. Until about 1920, Japanese farmers supported the grow­ing population with increased output. Agricultural productivity steadily increased for
two reasons. The best practice of existing farms, previously limited to the most ad­vanced areas, diffused more broadly. In addition, new crops, new seeds, and more
fertilizer came into use. The precise extent of the increased productivity of land is asubject of controversy. Estimates of annual increase in output vary from 1 to 3 percent.1 Even if the lower estimate is more accurate, the productivity gain was substantial
and crucial. It fed a growing population. It also preserved scarce foreign exchange forimports of industrial and military technologies rather than food.
In fact, the agrarian sector was a crucial source of state tax revenues used for awide range of modernizing projects. The land tax accounted for about 80 percent ofgovernment income in the 1870s and early 1880s. This fell to around 60 percent by
the early 1890s when new taxes were imposed on consumer goods, including neces­sities such as soy sauce and salt and virtual necessities such as sugar and sake. But
taxes on agricultural land still provided the majority of the government’s revenues.
Simultaneously, farmers brought in crucial foreign exchange by exporting tea andsilk products. A silk blight in Europe in 1868 opened the way for a booming export
trade in silk cocoons raised in small sheds on family farms. When the European blight
ended, the emphasis shifted to exports of silk threads. Between 1868 and 1893 Jap­
anese raw silk production rose almost ﬁvefold, from 2.3 million pounds to 10.2 million
pounds. Most of this was sold overseas. Silk accounted for 42 percent of all Japanese
export revenues during this quarter-century.
Agriculture had a further indirect economic impact through the export of people.
After tea and silk, the third highest source of foreign exchange earnings in Japanaround the turn of the century came from emigrant laborers who sent a portion of
their earnings in Hawaii, California, or Latin America to relatives in their homevillages.
Silk thread was often spun and woven in small factories in rural locations. The
owners and operators were members of an entrepreneurial rural elite. The membersof the upper crust of agrarian society played a crucial role in building a capitalist
economy in Japan. They invested in and ran factories, paid large amounts of taxes,
and sent their children on to higher education. Their educated sons, in particular, went
on to leading positions in business, politics, or bureaucracy. They also foreclosed onhigh-interest loans to impoverished neighbors, and they hired the daughters of such
farmers to work fourteen-hour days in spinning and weaving sheds. These landlords
were playing a part in a much larger story of economic policy and its social
consequences.
The huge costs of putting down the Satsuma rebellion, on top of the numerous
costly projects to build the economy and military, left the Meiji government facedwith a drastic revenue shortfall in 1878. It responded ﬁrst by printing money. The
result was a surge of price inﬂation. This only worsened the deﬁcit, since tax revenues
were based on land assessments that did not automatically rise with inﬂation. The realvalue of taxes fell. Japanese farmers brieﬂy prospered.

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In 1881 Finance Minister Matsukata Masayoshi, one of the surviving Satsuma
activists of the 1860s and among the most important Meiji leaders, launched draconianﬁscal and monetary policies. Seeking to halt the inﬂation, he cut state expenses
sharply. By 1880 the government had already ﬁred most of the foreign advisors hiredin the 1870s. It now sold off the unproﬁtable government industries that these advisors
helped build. Matsukata also shrunk the money supply by shutting down the printingpresses that had produced cheap paper money in the late 1870s and returning to asilver-backed currency.
The result has come to be called the Matsukata deﬂation of the early 1880s.
Agricultural commodity prices crashed by as much as 50 percent by 1884. To survive,
small-scale landholders took new loans from moneylenders who were often nearby
wealthy landlords. Thousands defaulted and lost their ﬁelds to these neighbors. One
response was the wave of rebellion led by the Debtors or Poor Farmers parties inplaces such as Chichibu.
A related result of the great deﬂation was a dramatic shift in landownership. Like
the rise in agricultural production, the precise increase in the number of tenant farmers
is still subject to debate. A conservative estimate holds that the proportion of agri­
cultural land worked by tenants rose from 30 percent in the late 1870s to 40 percent
in the late 1880s. Even by this account, at least one-tenth of the arable land of Japanchanged hands in one decade. The ﬁnancial program of shock therapy indeed stabi­
lized Japan’s economy by the end of the 1880s. It was also a devastating experience
for millions of people.

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The Meiji state had begun to put in place the infrastructure of a capitalist industrial
economy by the early 1880s. It continued to build the economic foundation over the
next two decades: railway lines, a new code of commercial law, specialized banks toprovide long-term credit to industry. But relatively small numbers of private investors
struggled with limited success to produce manufactured goods proﬁtably through therest of the 1880s. Then, in the two decades spanning the turn of the century, Japan’s
industrial economy took off. Manufacturing output rose 5 percent annually over theseyears. This was a much stronger performance than the worldwide annual growth rateof 3.5 percent. Japan’s production even outpaced that of the United States, whereindustry was also booming. American manufacturing doubled from 1895 to 1915. In
Japan manufacturing rose 2.5 times over the same period.
Industrialization was led by the textile industry. From the 1890s through 1913,
output of silk quadrupled. By the eve of World War I, three-fourths of these threads
were produced by machine, whereas earlier most silk had been reeled by hand. In
addition, about three-fourths of silk output was being exported each year. Productionof cotton thread increased at similar rates. Mechanized production also replaced handspinning. And about half of the cotton output came to be exported, mainly to China
and Korea.
Coal and metal mining was a second leading sector in Japan’s early industrial
era. Mineral production in Japan increased 700 percent from 1876 to 1896. After

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textiles mills, mines were the nation’s major employers of wage labor. About half ofthe output from coal ﬁelds in Kyushu and Hokkaido provided fuel to Japanese fac­
tories. Most of the rest supplied steamships calling in Japanese ports. In addition, by
the early twentieth century, the Ashio copper mine and reﬁnery was one of the largest
producers of this metal in the world.
A revolution in transport supported these new industries. By the late 1880s, Japan’s railway lines extended over one thousand miles. By 1900 the total stood inexcess of thirty-four hundred miles. The building of this rail system was a formidable
technical feat in a mountainous country. And the rail system promoted other industrial
ventures, most importantly textiles and coal mining, by lowering the transport cost of
raw materials to factories and cutting the cost of sending ﬁnished goods to domestic
markets and to harbors for export.
Rapid industrialization brought with it important innovations in social and eco­nomic organization. A boom in private railroad investment in the late 1880s sparked
a more generalized “private company boom.” Between 1886 and 1892, private inves­
tors established fourteen new railway companies. The total length of private lines wasmore than double that of government lines. This investment boom spread to spinningand mining and beyond. The experience taught some investors hard lessons in how
to organize joint stock companies or trade in the stock market when the “enterprisemania” culminated in Japan’s ﬁrst modern ﬁnancial crisis in 1890. The stock market
crashed. Many poorly conceived speculative enterprises failed. But the boom also hadsome enduring impact. Most of the new railroad companies were solid ventures. They
and a number of other new businesses survived the panic of 1890 to become leadersin the private sector of the economy.
The most distinctive feature of Japan’s emerging system of capitalism was thecentral role played by monopolies that later came to be called zaibatsu (the term
literally translates as “ﬁnancial clique”). Several of the zaibatsu—most notably Mitsui
and Sumitomo—had roots in merchant houses dating back to the Tokugawa era. Oth­ers, including the famous Mitsubishi zaibatsu, were founded from scratch by entre­
preneurs in the Meiji era. In all cases, it was the 1870s and 1880s when these combines
began to coalesce in their modern form. Their founders exploited long-standing close
ties to the government and synergistic links between key industries to found theirbusiness empires. The Mitsui family, for example, had been dry-goods retailers in
Kyoto and Edo since the 1670s. They had been moneylenders to the shogunate throughthe end of its days. In the 1860s, Mitsui’s general manager cultivated ties to anti­
shogunal forces as well. The family built on these ties after 1868. It handled a portionof the new government’s tax collection operations, and from this founded the MitsuiBank in 1876. The same year, it founded a general trading company. Soon thereafter
Itō Hirobumi, the minister of public works at the time, offered Mitsui Trading Com­pany an exclusive contract for sale of coal from the government’s Miike mine. As Itōneatly put it, “We will not be tight. You can acquire the coal at cost price and get
started on it directly.”2 Mitsui made immense proﬁts from this arrangement. In 1888
it bought the mine outright, although it paid a handsome price to the government. It
also sold much of this coal to British steamers, and these contacts helped Mitsui
Trading open branch ofﬁces in Shanghai, Hong Kong, and then London. This dynamic
triad of banking, mining, and trading came together in the 1880s. In the following

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decade, Mitsui built on this base and used its proﬁts to acquire or found engineering¯ companies and nu­(Shibaura), cotton-spinning (Kanegafuchi), and paper pulp (Oji)merous other ﬁrms.
With slight differences in emphasis—shipping, then shipbuilding and railroads,
were more important to the Mitsubishi combine—other zaibatsu emerged in similar
fashion in the 1880s and 1890s. Although the founding families retained ﬁnancial
control of the each zaibatsu complex, from the start they avoided the drag of nepotism.
Owners recruited able young men from outside the family and delegated importantmanagement responsibilities to them. This practice clearly separated ownership frommanagement of Japanese business at a comparatively early stage in modern industrial
development.
Why did these highly concentrated zaibatsu emerge to such prominence? Part of
the answer must be that all capitalist economies generate momentum toward concen­
tration. A glance at the railroad, steel, oil, tobacco, and ﬁnancial empires of Americans
such as Vanderbilt, Carnegie, Rockefeller, Duke, and Morgan makes clear that pow­
erful monopolies were not unique to Japan. But the zaibatsu were unusual in theirbroad reach. They were not limited to particular industries or even to particular ﬁelds
such as ﬁnance or manufacturing. Each zaibatsu spanned the entire range of businessendeavor from trade and shipping to ﬁnance, mining, and all sorts of factory produc­tion. One cannot explain their emergence simply by referring to factors found in all
capitalist economies.
One persuasive interpretation links the dominant position of entities such as thezaibatsu (or the bank-centered monopolies of late nineteenth-century Germany orstate-run businesses in Russia) to the relative “lateness” of Japanese, German, andRussian economic development. A late-developer, the argument goes, can only catchup and compete internationally by swiftly mobilizing scarce resources of capital,
skilled labor, and technology in new industrial endeavors. Only large organizations
are able to do this. In some late-developing cases, the state will play this mobilizing
role. In others—such as Japan—the lead will be taken by a mix of government projects
and huge private combines.3
This logic of late development helps explain why the zaibatsu emerged. But it
cannot fully account for the impressive performance of Japanese capitalism of the
Meiji era, which was certainly unprecedented outside the West. The Tokugawa eco­nomic and demographic heritage was one factor. From well before the time of the
Meiji reforms, one found widespread entrepreneurial and manufacturing skills withpotential application in modern industry and a sophisticated network of commercial
ﬁnance and coastal transport. In addition, population growth was slow, which allowed
agricultural revenues to be shifted to new ﬁelds.
Building from this base, the ability of Japanese producers to draw from a pool ofrelatively inexpensive labor was a crucial part of the story. In the late nineteenth andearly twentieth centuries, Japanese industry became steadily more mechanized. None­theless, labor productivity (the monetary value of goods or services produced by anaverage worker) lagged far behind the value of output per worker in advanced econ­omies of the West. With relatively less productive workers, the only way Japan’s
economy could have been competitive was if the workers were relatively low paid.

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Indeed, they were. Comparatively puny wages for relatively unproductive workers was
crucial to the strong performance of Japanese manufacturers in these decades.
The proactive role of the state was another important factor. The state built an
economic infrastructure and provided a base for the early zaibatsu in the 1870s and1880s. In the following years the state took the lead in promoting—indeed enabling—
the development of capital-intensive, higher technology industries. This was an area
in which Japan lacked a comparative advantage in labor costs. For example, throughthe 1890s Japanese railroad companies imported locomotives and rails from the Westbecause Japanese ironmakers or engineering ﬁrms either did not exist or were unable
to offer competitive products. In the early twentieth century, the government took key
steps that changed the situation on both the supply and demand side of this economic
equation. On the supply side, it used government funds to found the Yahata iron andsteel mill in 1896. State funds were also used to subsidize the shipping industry as
well as private manufacturers in machine-making, engineering, and shipbuilding. On
the demand side, the government nationalized almost all intercity railroads in 1906.
It used this control of the railroads to direct orders for locomotives and rails to Jap­
anese producers. It simultaneously placed tariffs on competing imports.4 All thesesteps combined to nurture private sector heavy industries that otherwise would nothave come into existence at this time or on such a scale.
Finally, the visible hand of the state was complemented by signiﬁcant competitionand entrepreneurship in the private sector. Young men inspired by dreams of great
personal wealth found patrons who sent them abroad, where they apprenticed to Eu­
ropean or American spinning mills, paper mills, engineering works, and the like. They
returned home to manage factories and occupy top positions in the expanding zaibatsu.
Multiple engineering and shipbuilding ﬁrms competed for government railway or naval
procurements. Private steelmakers spun off from Yahata to compete with it. Tariffs
offered these emerging Japanese ﬁrms some protection from foreign imports in theearly twentieth century, but they were forced by domestic competitors to increase
productivity and quality.
Japan’s economic growth thus depended on a dynamic mix of state and private
initiative. In parallel fashion, the ethos of the business elite mixed ideals of service tothe nation with a drive for personal wealth. Japanese capitalists, like state bureaucrats,
did not exalt the creativity of the market pure and simple. Neither did they laud theuntrammeled pursuit of proﬁt as the ultimate social beneﬁt. Rather, they drew on
Confucian language to put forward a philosophy of what might be called “selﬂess”
proﬁt-seeking.
Shibusawa Eiichi made this point with particular force. He was the most importantﬁnancier and industrialist of the Meiji era. As an energetic entrepreneur he introduced
the concept of joint-stock companies to Japan. He founded some of Japan’s ﬁrst suc­cessful large-scale textile mills, pulp mills, and private banks. Shibusawa preached thevirtues of self-reliance, but he also argued strongly against the view that “throughindividualism or egoism the State and society can progress most rapidly.” He counteredthat “I cannot support such a theory. . . . Although people desire to rise to positionsof wealth and honor, the social order and the tranquillity of the State will be disrupted
if this is done egoistically.” In the words of a like-minded Meiji era trader, “the secret

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to success in business is the determination to work for the sake of society and of
mankind as well as for the future of the nation, even if it means sacriﬁcing oneself.”5

THE WORK FORCE AND LABOR CONDITIONS

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Such idealistic public statements probably reﬂected the sincere beliefs of many busi­
ness leaders. Yet the goal of developing industry for the nation rarely led to generous
treatment of working people. Female laborers—often the teenage daughters of the
farm families who suffered in the Matsukata deﬂation—bore a particularly heavy
burden.
By 1911, government statistics reported that just under 800,000 people laboredin factories or mines with ten or more employees. About 475,000 of these worked in
textile mills, either cotton or silk spinning or weaving. More than four out of ﬁve
textile workers were women. They typically were required to live in company-owned
dormitories that were locked at night. When ﬁres occasionally broke out, these literally
became death traps. A belief that women were fragile creatures was widespread among
the upper classes of the time, but it had little impact on the treatment of the female
textile laborers. They worked twelve to fourteen hours a day or more, compared toabout twelve hours per day on average for males in industries such as machine man­ufacturing. Their wages were 50 to 70 percent of those paid to men in the same
industry, and 30 to 50 percent of average male wages in heavy industries. Wages werebased on the results of competition over output and quality. Discipline was harsh andsometimes arbitrary. Sexual harassment by male supervisors cannot be documented
with numerical certainty, but it was a constant theme in the songs of these women.
Finally, the poorly ventilated mills were incubators of disease, especially tuber-yabh

TABLE 7.1 Labor Force Numbers, Early Twentieth Century
1902

1911

Women

Total

Men

Women

Total

Textiles

32,699236,457

Machine/tool
manufacturing
Chemicalengineering
Food and drink
Miscellaneous
Electric or gas
utilities
Mining andreﬁning

33,379983

269,156

67,128408,257

475,385

34,362

67,271

3,817

71,08838,61543,68382,29847,15922,41469,573

16,837
20,729475

13,316
11,57921

30,15332,308496

34,202
37,831
4,476

12,922
20,12340

47,12457,954
4,516

42,888

7,230

50,11859,321

8,924

68,245

185,622313,269

498,891

317,388476,497

793,885Ar

Men

Total: All
Industries

Source: Nihon rōdō undo shiryō. Dai 10 kan. Tōkei-hen, edited by Rōdō undō shiryō iin-kai. (Tokyo: Chūō kōronjigyō shuppan, 1959), pp. 104, 106.

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culosis, which was the AIDS of its day: debilitating, incurable, and fatal. This disease
had been a chronic but limited problem in Tokugawa times. It became an acute epi­
demic from the late nineteenth into the early twentieth century. The means of trans­mission were poorly understood. Women who contracted the disease in the mills weresent home to rest, and die. They spread the plague to their home villages.
The alternative to textile labor was not a life of leisure. Those who stayed with
their families in rural villages had to help out with equally or more demanding farmlabor. The memoirs of many textile workers offer divided judgments. They present agrim picture of unhappiness at harsh discipline and punitive incentive wages. They
also recall pleasant friendships with other workers, full stomachs, and better food thanon the farm. Wages were low compared to those of men, but they were high comparedto most alternative work for women, such as unpaid labor on a family farm or homebased piecework for a manufacturing broker.
One job that paid higher wages to young women was prostitution. After textiles,
the sex industry was the largest employer of women in the late nineteenth century.

Textile workers such as these young women in a silk-reeling factory in Nagano prefecture in
the late Meiji era would have been among those singing the ofﬁcial or the “underground”
songs about factory life. They are pulling threads off cocoons in very hot water in the basinsin front of them. This photograph, in which the women are wearing makeup and elegant
hairstyles, would appear to be a staged public relations shot authorized by the manufacturers
to project a positive image of the workplace.
Courtesy of Okaya Silk Museum.

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Prostitution was legal. Brothels were licensed and regulated by the state, although
there were many unlicensed practitioners as well. At the turn of the century, aboutﬁfty thousand licensed prostitutes worked in Japan, not far below the sixty thousand
women in cotton spinning mills (although less than the number in silk spinning andfar less than in weaving). If the pay was relatively high, so too were the costs inhealth, in dignity, and in loss of freedom. Families often took substantial advances in“selling” a teenage girl to a brothel. She could not quit until the advance was repaid,
which usually took three to ﬁve years.
It is not easy to discover how women workers in the early industrial era viewed
their situation. Most had only an elementary education. They did not leave behindextensive memoirs. Until recent decades they have not been seen as important subjectsof history writing. But some clues survive in accounts of social reformers, journalists,and government surveyors. Not surprisingly, statistical surveys of factory labor showthat many women responded to poor conditions by quitting. Annual rates of turnoverin excess of 100 percent of the work force were common. A famous government
study, entitled Workers’ Conditions, published in 1902 using data from the Kanega­
fuchi Cotton Spinning Mill, the largest in Japan, offers some dramatic numerical ev­
idence of this. At the start of the year 1900, the company employed 4,500 women.
Even though it cut back the work force to about 3,500 women by the end of the year,
the company was forced to hire 4,762 new workers over these twelve months becauseof massive attrition. Fully 4,846 female employees “escaped or ﬂed” their jobs, 692
were ﬁred, 255 left due to illness, and 31 (nearly 1 percent) died.6
On occasion these workers came together in acts of collective protest. From 1897
to 1907, textile workers went on strike thirty-two times at spinning mills and weaving
sheds large and small to demand higher wages or improved working conditions. Mostof these actions lasted only one or two days, or a few hours. Few succeeded. The factthat the women lived in tightly supervised company dormitories made it difﬁcult forthem to organize protests or link up with social activists outside the factory walls. Ifthey did protest, they were typically ﬁred and had no choice but to return home.
The improvised songs of the textile workers were written down by observers.
They reﬂect the attitudes that led to high quit rates and strikes. They reveal the anger
and despair of the workers, but also dreams of better lives for themselves and pridein their contribution to Japan’s national income and power. This pride was the message
promoted every day by the mill supervisors and recruiters. They taught an ofﬁcal
message to silk spinners as they hiked together across mountain passes on the way tothe factories:
Raw silk,
Reel, reel the thread.
Thread is the treasure of the empire!
More than a hundred million yen worth of exports,
What can be better than silk thread?
Factory girls,
We are soldiers of peace.
The service of women is a credit
To the empire and to yourselves.

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103

There are trials and hardships, yes,
But what do they matter?

The songs that the women improvised on their own were different:
If a woman working in an ofﬁce is a willow,
A poetess is a violet,
And a female teacher is an orchid,
Then a factory woman is a vegetable gourd.

Or,

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How I wish the dormitory would be washed away,
The factory burn down,
And the gatekeeper die of cholera,
At six in the morning I wear a devil’s face,
At six in the evening a smiling face.
I want wings to escape from here,
To ﬂy as far as those distant shores.7

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Communities of skilled male factory workers also came into being in Japan’s
early industrial era, although their numbers were smaller than the number of women
factory laborers. By 1902, approximately 33,000 men worked in shipbuilding, machine
and machine tool industries, and railroad companies. Another 40,000 worked in mines
and metal reﬁneries—alongside a signiﬁcant minority of female coal miners. An ad­
ditional 100,000 men labored in a wide variety of different industrial sites.
These men mixed a sense of humiliation at the condition of their lives, and evenself-loathing, with pride, assertiveness, and a commitment to self-help. They werefootloose. Unlike the well-known “lifetime employees” of the decades after WorldWar II, male workers in early industrial Japan believed that the only way to becomea skilled worker deserving of the name was to gain experience at a number of factories,
learn diverse skills, and thus advance. These men were as quick to leave their jobs aswere the textile women. But where the young women were often escaping to leavefactory work altogether, the men—called “traveling workers”—were job-hopping aspart of a career strategy. They typically aspired to save money and start up their own
small factory. A few succeeded.
They also organized a number of strikes, and in the 1890s undertook a few shortlived drives to organize unions. A union of metalworkers founded in 1897 enrolled
nearly three thousand at its peak. But turnover among members was high, and by
1899 the union was losing support. In 1900 the government passed a Public Order
Police Law that made organizing difﬁcult, and the union collapsed. Strikes and labororganizing reﬂected anger at dignity denied as much as a desire for higher pay. The
best organized strike of the era took place among locomotive engineers at the Japan
Railway Company in 1899. They argued that “our occupation is not base but noble;
it should be accorded respect, not contempt.” One core demand of the workers wasfor a change in the wording of their job title, which conveyed an image of low-grade
status in comparison to clerks and station-masters whose jobs required less skill andwho bore less weighty responsibility.8

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MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5

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Male workers in a lathe shop of the Shibaura Engineering Works in 1896. A supervisor, inWestern cap and formal dress in the center, stood at the top of the workplace hierarchy, andtensions between such supervisors and the ordinary workers were common. Workmen in jobs
that drew on traditional artisan skills tended to wear the Edo era craftsman’s coat (lowerleft).
Courtesy of Toshiba Corporation.

Their bosses saw such skilled workers as notoriously unreliable. One manager ata major engineering ﬁrm vented his anger in a magazine for young boys after a visit
to the United States in 1908. Well-educated young workers were uppity and did notknow their place, he fumed. Older laborers were stubborn men who relied only on
past experience, so that “teaching them anything is like trying to teach a cat to chant
Buddhist prayers.” Unlike America, he claimed, where workers were docile and “car­ried out a job after just one order . . . in Japan things don’t get done without constant
instructions and the lot of a supervisor is difﬁcult.”9This negative view of workers must be viewed critically. It contrasts sharply withtestimony from many workers themselves. They told of their determination to study,
improve their skills, and one day open their own small workshop. The managerial

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view that employees were stubborn and poorly disciplined did not reﬂect a genuine
deﬁcit of talent or energy among laborers. It reﬂected the unwillingness of theseworkers to devote themselves to bosses who offered unreliable treatment.

SPREAD OF MASS AND HIGHER EDUCATION

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In the 1880s and 1890s, as protest against compulsory schooling decreased and atten­
dance rose, the government also changed the curriculum. It became clear that com­moners were using their education to read newspapers and sign petitions that criticized
the government. The Ministry of Education responded with a more state-centered,moralistic curriculum. The leader in this shift away from the more liberal and prag­
matic spirit of public education in the 1870s was Mori Arinori, a former Satsuma
samurai who served as minister of education from 1886 to 1889. Under his leadershipthe ministry put in place tighter central controls over textbooks. Mori also introduceda regimented system of teacher training in government schools, complete with military
drills. The government promoted Confucian ideals of loyalty, obedience, and friend­ship in the schools. It also turned to German advisors as it adopted a moralistic
curriculum that stressed lessons of ﬁlial piety and loyalty to the state.
The culminating statement of this conservative reform came in the Imperial Re­
script on Education, promulgated in the name of the emperor on October 30, 1890.
The document reﬂected the beliefs of high government ofﬁcials and their advisors thatthe goal of education was learning to serve society and the state. These ofﬁcials argued
that the early Meiji education system betrayed this objective by stressing individual
initiative. But ofﬁcials disagreed on the wisdom of grounding a statement of the statecentered purpose of education primarily in Confucian rhetoric. Confucian scholars
such as Motoda Eifu, a tutor to the Meiji emperor, wanted to establish loyalty andﬁlial piety as unshakeable social values. Pragmatists such as Itō Hirobumi resisted anarrow imperial statement of orthodox morality. They feared it might draw the throne
into political debates.
The result of this debate was a somewhat schizophrenic document. Parts of therescript invoked core Confucian values concerning human relations:
Ye, Our subjects, be ﬁlial to your parents, affectionate to your brothers and sisters; ashusbands and wives be harmonious, as friends true; bear yourselves in modesty andmoderation; extend your benevolence to all. . . .

Other phrases invoked a spirit of allegiance to the state that was common to thenationalism of nineteenth century Euro-American political systems:. . . advance public good and promote common interests; always respect the Consti­
tution and observe the law; should emergency arise, offer yourselves courageously to
the State. . . .

Binding together these moralistic injunctions to ﬁlial piety and patriotism werestatements linking such values directly to the emperor and his ancestors. The rescript
began with the claim:
Our Imperial Ancestors have founded Our Empire on a basis broad and everlasting,and have deeply and ﬁrmly implanted virtue. . . .

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MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5

It ended with a stirring charge:
The way set forth here is indeed the teaching bequeathed by Our Imperial Ancestors,
to be observed alike by Their Descendants and the subjects, infallible for all ages andtrue in all places.

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In the years after its promulgation, this document took on a sacred aura of re­markable power. Together with a portrait of the emperor, a copy was enshrined inevery school in the nation. It was read to the assembled students on ceremonial oc­
casions. Stories circulated of heroic school principals who risked—or lost—their lives
when they dashed into burning buildings to retrieve the imperial rescript or photo­graph. Students had trouble making full sense of the rescript’s archaic language. But
they could understand the basic messages: The imperial institution made Japan a
special place and subjects should obey authorities ranging from parents all the way
to the emperor.
The spirit and structure of higher education were rather different from that of therescript and the elementary schools. By 1905, about 104,000 students, roughly 10
percent of the eligible population, went on to attend a variety of middle schools. The“normal schools” trained students, young boys as well as some girls, for careers asteachers. In addition, a huge variety of vocational middle schools prepared youths forcareers as technicians, clerks, or engineers. A small minority of middle-schoolers
continued to climb the education ladder by attending private and public higher schools.
Some of these schools undertook to educate young women. In 1899 the government
required each prefecture to found at least one higher school for girls. A number ofWestern missionary groups also opened higher schools for young women. The mostprestigious higher schools were seven national institutions for young men. Beginningwith the First Higher School, in Tokyo, these were founded between 1886 and 1901.
Together they admitted 5,300 male students per year.
Beyond this, at the pinnacle of the system, stood seven imperial universities, also
for men only. Among the universities, it was Tokyo Imperial University, its law faculty
above all, that provided the best ticket to the upper reaches of the bureaucracy or thebusiness world.
Schooling beyond the lower elementary level was voluntary. It was limited tothose who could pass the entrance examinations and whose parents could afford thetuition and the loss of a working child’s income. Ironically, as students climbed to thehigher reaches of this very hierarchical order, they were encouraged to think more
freely. The higher schools and universities in particular gave the students a large degreeof autonomy. Students organized the school’s extracurricular life on their own. In theclassroom they were encouraged to read widely in Western philosophy and politicalthought. This openness at the top reﬂected the thinking of Mori Arinori, the ministerof education who oversaw the founding of the higher schools. His goal was to nurture
an elite of patriotic future leaders of the nation. He believed such people needed tolearn initiative and responsibility. For this purpose, they had to be given autonomy intheir formative years.
Literature offers one view of the social and psychological world of the studentsof this era. One of the great writers of the era, Natsume Sōseki, framed his memorable
novel of 1914, Kokoro, around the experience of two generations of universityeducated characters. In a tale of death and suicide, he offered a grim but powerful

107

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Social, Economic, and Cultural Transformations

An artist’s rendition of the ceremony of reading the Imperial Rescript on Education to ele­mentary school students in the early twentieth century. The principal holds and reads therescript. The photograph of the emperor’s portrait is on view in the ark in the center behind
opened curtains. This ritual mimics precisely the ceremony of 1889 at which the emperor
handed over the constitution itself, as his “gift” to the prime minister and the nation.
Yushima Elementary School, Tokyo.

statement of the alienated existence of the modern man. Sōseki’s novel was precededby the real case of one unfortunate Tokyo Imperial University boy named Fujimura,
who threw himself off the famous Kegon waterfall in 1903. He left a note that could
have been written by a character in Kokoro:
Ensconced in the vastness of space and time, I with my meager body, have tried tofathom the enormity of this universe. But what authority can be attributed to Horatio’s

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MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5philosophy? There is, after all, only one word for truth: “incomprehensible.” My agony
over this question had brought me, at last, to a decision to die, and yet now, standingat the precipice, there is no anxiety in my heart. For the ﬁrst time, I realized that greatsorrow is at one with great happiness.

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This suicide became a media event: Postcards, picturebooks, and souvenirs were
spawned by it, as well as imitators. One historian claims there were almost two hun­dred death leaps from the same falls over the next eight years.10
Such episodes capture only one aspect of the culture of late Meiji Japan. Other
memoirs and novels (such as Soseki’s slightly more cheerful Sanshirō) show the cityand the university as sites of dreams, adventure, and longing. Young boys, and young
girls at a few private higher schools, came to the city with ambition and energy. They
fell in love with its anonymity and excitement. They cherished its sense of motion
and change. Reading Western literature and philosphy was a standard element ofhigher education at the time. It sometimes sparked a ﬂamboyant sense of rebellion
and assertion. Meiji youths read Kant, Rousseau, and Mill, among others. The decadesaround the turn of the century were exciting times for many youths privileged to go
beyond elementary education and think about their role in the “new Japan.”tor

CULTURE AND RELIGION

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The Meiji era drive to construct a modern nation of “civilization and enlightenment”
remade the Japanese cultural landscape as well as the economy and political system.
Beginning in the 1870s, government ofﬁcals, educators, and artists began to explore
what it might mean to “Westernize” the entire spectrum of cultural life. This some­times took place in a force-fed spirit of “whole-package” modernization. Organizersof the Japanese military, for example, decided in 1871 that if Western armies all had
military bands, and if Japan was to remake its military on Western lines, then Japaneseforces had best follow suit. They quickly established a new, enduring tradition ofWestern-style military music. In a similar fashion, in 1880 the Meiji government en­
gaged a Boston public school teacher to bring “proper” modern music education into
the new Japanese schools. He helped prepare the ﬁrst school children’s songbook in
1881. Half the tunes were Western melodies with new lyrics by Japanese poets. “Auld
Lang Syne” became a syrupy ballad about “the light of ﬁreﬂies.” Other songs wereolder Japanese melodies rearranged into Western-style harmonies.11
In a similar practical spirit that mixed a commitment to building a strong nation
with the vocation of an artist, important painters in the 1870s and 1880s gained gov­
ernment support to promote Western styles of oil painting. They drew on the expe­
rience of some Edo era painters with Western art media and styles, such as the useof vanishing-point perspective in eighteenth-century woodblock prints. The Meiji gov­
ernment set up art contests and schools to teach Western techniques. Also, beginning¯and thenin the late 1880s Japanese writers such as Futabatei Shimei, Mori Ogai,
Natsume Sōseki began to produce widely read works of prose ﬁction in forms com­parable to Western novels.
New forms of theater were slower to develop, even as older forms came underﬁre. In Tokugawa times leading practioners of Noh theater had been patronized with

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stipends by the shogunate and daimyō. The Meiji reforms cut off this source of sup­port, and the Noh theater brieﬂy ﬂoundered. Kabuki had a ﬁrmer popular audience,but it too faced problems in early Meiji years. Western-oriented reformers criticized
it as “decadent” (because plots were set in brothels) or feudalistic. The emphasis in
the 1880s and 1890s was on “reform” of the Kabuki theater. Playwrights brought inWestern dress and plots centered on modern life, but these new plays proved most
unpopular.
Despite such broadly based efforts to modernize or Westernize Japanese culture,older forms persisted and even ﬂourished, often without state support. Statistics are
not available, but musical traditions from shamisen and koto playing to the chantingof puppet-theater narratives (jorūri) may actually have increased in popularity evenas schoolchildren learned new Western tunes. The Kabuki survived its critics. Leading
actors called for the preservation of the classical plays, and the Edo era repertory
remained most popular.
Beginning in the mid-1880s, a drive to preserve or revive a so-called traditional
Japanese culture emerged in a mood of confrontation with Western-oriented reformers.
Leaders included both Westerners and Japanese. Two of the most famous such cultural
missionaries to the world were Ernest Fenellosa and Okakura Kakuzō. Fenellosa cameto Japan to teach philosophy in 1878 after graduating from Harvard University witha strong background in the history of art. He developed an abiding love for Japanese
art and culture. Okakura began as his student and became a close colleague.
The two worked together for many years. As Motoori Norinaga and his followers
had done in the 1700s in reaction to the popularity of Chinese thought, they articulated
and vigorously promoted a notion that Japan in particular, and the Orient in general,
was home to a glorious spiritual and aesthetic sensibility. This contrasted sharply intheir view to the materialism of the West. More reactionary cultural conservatives
picked up such themes to simply attack Western inﬂuence in Japan. Okakura andFenellosa spoke in less combative Hegelian terms of a superior “synthesis” of a global
culture that would result from the interaction of East and West.12
There is an important twist in this cultural history of mid- to late Meiji Japan.
Western imports coexisted, mixed, and sometimes conﬂicted with a resilient set ofindigenous cultural forms. As this happened, many older cultural forms were dramat­
ically reshaped. Later generations came to view these as “traditional” and typicallyJapanese. In the process they articulated new concepts of “Japanese-ness.” The Nohtheater, for example, survived in part because government ofﬁcials promoted it as aJapanese parallel to Western opera. They treated visitors such as former American
President Ulysses Grant (in 1879) to command performances. Noh performance took
on ritualistic aspects that had not been present before. Modern martial arts such as
judo, sports such as sumo wrestling, and arts such as the cultivation of bonsai plants
were both transformed in practice and took on symbolic meaning as emblems ofJapanese-ness for the ﬁrst time.13
This modern process of inventing traditions was striking. But neither it nor theconcern to preserve spiritual values at a time of materialistic modernization was pe­
culiar to the history of Japan or of the non-Western world. In modernizing Europe noless than in Japan, artists and poets were among many who turned to their own past

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to ﬁnd or invent spiritual traditions in the face of a modernity seen as inhumane orexcessively materialistic.
Religion faced similar turmoil and transformation in the Meiji era. Evangelicalreligious organizations with indigenous roots, founded in the Tokugawa era, expanded
dramatically in the Meiji era. Another newly energized religious movement of the
Meiji era was Christianity. Approximately sixty thousand “hidden Christians” (kakurekirishitan) had survived the often ﬁerce persecutions of the Tokugawa era. They werestill practicing their faith when the bakufu collapsed. In 1873, the Meiji government
repealed the bakufu’s anti-Christian laws, but offered no speciﬁc protection to religious
activity. The 1889 constitution guaranteed a limited religious freedom “within limits
not prejudicial to peace and not antagonistic to duties as citizens.”
In this ambiguous context, Catholic, Russian Orthodox, and Protestant mission­aries returned to Japan in the 1870s. They enjoyed just moderate numerical success.
Christians remained well under 1 percent of the population. But these men and women
played a disproportionately large role in Japanese cultural and political life. In the latenineteenth and early twentieth centuries Christian activists became leaders of social
reform movements including socialism and the labor movement. Such people werecommitted to following the dictates of individual conscience that in theory transcended
or opposed the dictates of the state. In the face of a government that made an allencompassing claim on the loyalty of imperial subjects, this was a brave position. It
often proved impossible to sustain. Many Christians responded by deﬁning their re­ligion as an entirely apolitical commitment.14
The Meiji state consistently took an active role in managing all religious practiceas part of its effort to establish legitimacy. It created a national organization of Shinto
shrines for the ﬁrst time in Japanese history. The important Ise Shrine had long been
associated with the emperor, but before 1868 Shinto consisted primarily of decen­
tralized local shrines for the worship of community deities without close ties to thestate. The government set up a Department of Shinto in 1868. In 1870 it issued aproclamation stating that the nation was to be guided by the “way of the kami (Shinto
deities).” In 1871 Shinto shrines were ofﬁcially designated as government institutions
for the observance of “national rites.” Many government ofﬁcials as well as religious
ﬁgures questioned the wisdom of this close relationship over the next several decades.
But the state continued to patronize Shinto and to stress its close links to the newly
important imperial institution. The process culminated in 1900 when the Home Min­
istry created a Shrine Ofﬁce and a nationally certiﬁed priesthood. In these ways thenotion that Shinto was the ancient religion of all Japanese was invented by the modern
state-builders of Meiji times, as were the institutions to promote this idea.
As Shinto was elevated and transformed, the Buddhist priesthood and worshipers
faced criticism and persecution. The government ended the semiofﬁcial status of Edo
era Buddhist temples with the Separation Edict of 1868. This banned Buddhist priests
from holding simultaneous positions in Shinto shrines. It replaced the Edo era re­quirement that every person register at a local Buddhist temple with a system ofcompulsory registration at local Shinto shrines. These steps crystallized a more explicit
awareness among ordinary people that Shinto and Buddhist practices and dieties in­deed were different. They also sparked a wave of popular attacks on Buddhist temples.
These peaked in 1871 when numerous temples, statues, and relics were destroyed.

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Some Buddhists fought ﬁre with ﬁre. They staged demonstrations and riots of
their own. They demanded the freedom to preach Buddhist doctrine. They called forthe ouster of Christianity. From the 1870s through the 1890s, Buddhist priests andthinkers followed contradictory impulses as they sought to protect themselves andregain popular and ofﬁcial support. Some issued strong calls for the state to respect
freedom of religion. Others sought legitimacy by jumping on the bandwagon of areactionary nationalism that criticized Christianity and the materialist West for de­stroying Asian spirituality. Still other critics took an opposite tack and condemned
Christianity for betraying the rational spirit of modernity. Among the most prominentof such voices was that of Inoue Enryō, a philosopher and teacher. He founded an
important institute of philosphical studies in 1885 and argued that Christian beliefs in
a divine being were actually less rational or modern than relatively nontheistic Bud­dhist ideas.

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AFFIRMING JAPANESE IDENTITY AND DESTINY

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The dizzying pace of change in Japan of the Meiji era provoked varied reactions. For
some, change offered liberation and personal opportunity. For some, it offered a chanceto achieve collective, national glory. For others (or for these same people at othertimes), change meant danger, decadence, and loss of moral virtue. Such fears broketo the surface in at least three arenas of discussion and policy: fear of political disorder,
fear of gender disorder, and cultural concern to answer the question, Who are “weJapanese”?
Fear among government leaders that a restless populace might challenge theirpolitical control led to the decision for a conservative constitution modeled on Prussianlines. It sparked the push for military drills in the schools. It inspired the call for a
spirit of sacriﬁce for the state in the Imperial Rescript on Education. Fear of genderanarchy amidst a headlong rush to modernity had surfaced early in the decision to
ban women from adopting short hairstyles in 1872. It emerged again when the gov­
ernment sharply restricted women’s political activity in 1890.
The third great fear in the face of the changes of the Meiji era was present before
Perry’s ships appeared. It was crystallized in the phrase, “Expel the barbarians.” This
was the notion that outsiders from across the seas would poison the souls of Japanesepeople, convert them perhaps to Christianity, and demolish their true identity. In theearly Meiji years, these fears were submerged for the most part. Government leadersand many others joined a rush to modernize. The dominant view through the 1870s
and early 1880s was that the essence of being a Japanese patriot was to embracechange. Loyal Japanese were told to help build the army and the state along Westernlines.
But lurking behind such reforming projects—and breaking to the surface in oc­
casional rebellions—was a logic that differentiated people in Japan from those else­
where. It lead to the question: To what ultimate end are we making these changes?
As we build railroads and adopt a European-style constitution, do we have a unique
identity as Japanese people? If so, what is it?
Many people raised such questions, especially from the mid-1880s onward. Some

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of the most pointed and thoughtful early questioners included a group of young men
who in 1888 formed the Society for Political Education (Seikyōsha) and began to
publish a magazine called The Japanese. These writers feared that as the nation fol­
lowed a path toward so-called civilization, it might “forfeit our national character anddestroy all elements of Japanese society.” As one wrote: “What is today’s Japan? The
old Japan has already collapsed, but the new Japan has not yet risen. What religion
do we believe in? What moral and political principles do we favor? It is as if we are
wandering in confusion through a deep fog, unable to ﬁnd our way.”15
Fears of political disorder, gender anarchy, and the loss of a cultural soul resolved
themselves to some degree, although never deﬁnitively, around the turn of the century.
By this time a sort of political, social, and cultural orthodoxy was articulated widely
by political leaders such as Itō Hirobumi and by major journalists and scholars as
well.
First and foremost, these anxieties were met by a turn toward the emperor as apolitical and cultural anchor. The Meiji oligarchs unambiguously anchored the politicalorder in the emperor, who invoked “the supreme power We inherit from Our Imperial
Ancestors” to promulgate an “immutable fundamental law” in the form of theconstitution.
The symbolic management of the imperial institution was a risky project. On one
hand, the oligarchs desperately wanted to keep the emperor above politics so that theiropponents could not do as they had done in the 1860s, and turn the emperor against
the government. Simultaneously, they were committed to using his image and words
to ensure political order, as in the Imperial Rescript on Education. And just as somein the government had feared, a small incident within months of the rescript’s prom­
ulgation sparked a huge controversy. In January 1891, an “installment ceremony” foran imperially autographed copy of the rescript took place at the First Higher Schoolin Tokyo. The principal asked all present to bow to the imperial signature. But Uchi­
mura Kanzō, a Christian and an English teacher at the school, aware that the consti­
tution guaranteed “freedom of conscience” to all subjects, refused to do so. He be­lieved that such a bow amounted to “idol worship” and violated his faith.
Within a few days, a huge storm of protest at this act of disloyalty erupted in thepress. Uchimura soon repudiated his action and repeatedly made public bows to therescript on other occasions. But the outcry eventually forced Uchimura to resign his
position. The incident prompted some of the nation’s most prominent philosphers andeducators to defend the forced bow to the rescript as a constitutional act. They argued
that the moral essence of both documents was a public one. Obedience to the stateand emperor, that is, was presented as the highest secular obligation, one that tran­
scended private ethics or religious belief.
Parallel to its efforts to elevate and reinforce ultimate imperial authority, the state
dealt with fears of gender anarchy and its desire for loyal subjects of both sexes byarticulating an important new concept aimed at women. This was the ideal of the“good wife and wise mother.” A member of the Meiji Six Society, Nakamura Masanao,ﬁrst put forward this slogan. It had restrictive implications of course. A woman’s
vocation was to be that of nurturer. Her role was to be centered on the home. Women
were barred from politics, from inheritance, and from any independent legal standingin civil law.

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But the idea that the primary duty of women was to serve in the twin roles ofgood wife and wise mother was not purely reactionary or restrictive. In some ways it
was an innovative effort to change the role of women in a new era. In Tokugawa
Japan, women, especially samurai women, had been seen as relatively unteachable
and not much in need of formal education. They were not given any public role ofimportance. In the Meiji formulation, wise women needed schooling. To raise children
well in a new era, the mother had to be literate. She had to know something of theworld beyond the home. If her sons were to serve the state in the military, the home
had to play a quasipublic role as incubator of these soldiers. The notion of “goodwife, wise mother” that Meiji government ofﬁcials began to promote aggressively
around the turn of the century was new in that women were to be educated. It wasalso new in that women’s work at home, and also in the factory, was valued as a formof service to the state.
The imperial institution took part in this project to prescribe new roles for womenand for men. The emperor gave the signal that men could wear Western haircuts byadopting that style himself. The empress mixed old and new styles of personal groom­ing. On one hand, her traditional hairstyle signaled to women that they should keep
their hair long and braided up. On the other hand, her Westernized facial appearance
encouraged women to stop shaving their eyebrows or blackening their teeth. Bothraised hair and blackened teeth had been marks of beauty in the elite culture of theTokugawa era and before, but the latter practice was changed with support from thethrone in the face of Western examples and criticisms.
Beyond politics and gender, people such as Okakura, Fenellosa, and the writers
in the magazine The Japanese at the turn of the century began to deﬁne “Japaneseculture” as the essence of their identity. Like the ideology of “good wife, wise mother,”
this was not a purely reactionary turn. The men in the Society for Political Educationagreed that Japan’s government should build national economic and military strengthby using Western technology. But they also developed an idea of particular “Japanese”
values that should be cultivated in the process. Perhaps the most powerful value wassaid to be a unique conception of beauty, an aesthetic sense rooted in art and thenatural environment. A special aesthetic and moral sense could serve as a cultural
anchor in a time of great change. Such concern to defend “Japanese-ness” reinforced
stereotypes of feminine virtue as well, for Japan’s traditional culture was deﬁned bysuch writers in feminine terms centered on beauty and grace. From the late nineteenth
century to the present day, this desire to deﬁne a Japanese essence has been a nearconstant concern, at times an obsession, of Japanese intellectual and cultural life.
Ofﬁcial orthodoxy was neither perfectly secure nor unchallenged. Despite thepromulgation of the Imperial Rescript on Education with its stress on loyalty, and its
oppressive interpretations and uses, dissenters did emerge in the following decades.
They ranged from feminists to socialists and communists. They would challenge theorthodoxy of imperial supremacy and win thousands of adherents. But it is certainthat the political and cultural reactions of late Meiji restrained these trends. Theydeﬁned and limited the cultural as well as social and political terms of debate, as
people sought to make sense of the continuous changes that were now part of Japan’s
modern condition.
The Meiji changes remain among the most controversial topics in Japanese his­

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tory. In 1968, the Meiji centennial set off a ferocious debate on whether one shouldcelebrate anything at all. The shadow of World War II deﬁned this debate, and tosome extent it still does. Critics argued that an authoritarian, emperor-centered Meiji
system of politics and culture combined with an economic order that impoverishedthe peasantry and limited the domestic market to pave the road to a disastrous war
ﬁfty years later. Since the 1960s, a more positive view of the Meiji era has become
widespread in Japan and abroad. This narrative of progress stresses that in 1889 Japan
became the ﬁrst non-Western nation to adopt a constitutional political system, whileat roughly the same time it became the ﬁrst non-Western industrial, capitalist economy.
These were indeed impressive political and economic achievements. After all, muchof the non-Western world at this time was subjected to increasing economic and po­
litical subordination under the expanding hegemony of Euro-American nation-states.
Some of the “advanced” Western nations were no less authoritarian than the new Meiji
system. But like all modern revolutions, the changes of the Meiji era left a complex
legacy of progress and pain.

8
Empire and Domestic Order

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The Meiji revolution transformed the domestic space of Japan. Railroads linked thecountryside in newly intimate fashion to ports and urban centers such as Tokyo, Yo­kohama, Osaka, and Kobe. The Meiji revolution also transformed the relationshipbetween Japan and the world. By the end of the nineteenth century, Japan had shiftedfrom a relatively marginal position to a dominant place in Asia. It was seeking control
over Korea and had won colonial control over Taiwan. It gained formal equality with
the Western powers by revising the unequal treaties, and it established a strategic
position as junior partner to the British. It both absorbed and exported products andpeople, importing grain from Korea, selling textiles to China, and both sending andreceiving men and women to and from Asia and the Americas as laborers and students.
People in Japan were making themselves an integral part of a broader East Asian andglobal system.
Just as Japan’s domestic transformation had global causes and consequences, its
drive for empire had domestic roots and ramiﬁcations. The nation-building projects
described in the previous chapters inspired a new patriotism among masses of Japanesepeople. This bolstered the assertive external agenda of the government. Nationbuilding projects also sparked calls for participation and reform, which struck the same
rulers as threatening or even subversive. They responded with programs to shore up
the domestic social and political order. They also made empire a potent symbol of theidentity and unity of the Japanese people.1 In these ways, imperialism reﬂected andalso contributed to a changed relationship of Japanese subjects to their state.

THE TRAJECTORY TO EMPIRE
The most important focus of Japanese overseas activity in the 1870s and 1880s was
the Korean peninsula. In 1876, Japan employed gunboat diplomacy to force the Treatyof Kanghwa on Korea. This opened three ports to trade with Japan and gave theJapanese extraterritorial jurisdiction. Both the process and the result were little dif­ferent from those pursued by Commodore Perry in Japan two decades before. Japanesetraders used this opening to economic advantage. They sharply expanded exports to
Korea, primarily by reselling European manufactured goods ﬁrst imported to Japan.
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They also began to import signiﬁcant amounts of rice and soybeans from Korea. Japan
was the destination for about 90 percent of exports from Korea through the 1870s.
The Japanese government sought to forge a close political relationship to Korea
in the 1880s, which would supersede Korea’s intimate and dependent ties to China
rooted in the centuries-old tribute system. Its goal was to promote a regime in Korea
that was independent of both China and Russia and deferential to Japan. In the strategic
thinking of Yamagata Aritomo, the most important geopolitical strategist among the
Meiji leaders, Korea was to be part of a buffer “zone of advantage” protecting Japan’s
home-island “zone of sovereignty.”
As one step to secure this zone, in 1881 Japan sent military advisors to help
modernize the army of the Korean court, at the time led by the reform-minded King
Kojong. He and his top aides were impressed at the modernizing projects underway
in Japan, but they faced powerful conservative and anti-foreign opposition. Over thefollowing years, political turmoil left Korea vulnerable to outside pressures. The Jap­
anese government, members of Japan’s mainstream political opposition, and Japanesepolitical adventure-seekers and gangsters with shadowy ties to the government allsought to exploit this opening. In 1882 anti-foreign opponents of the king killed sev­
eral of the Japanese military advisors and took power in a coup. The Japanese re­sponded by forcing the new government to offer an indemnity and accept Japanese
troops stationed in Seoul to protect Japan’s diplomats there.
Both the Japanese government and private citizens continued to support the re­formist “independence” faction in Korea. Its members understood independence some­what differently from the Japanese. They wanted greater independence from the Qing
rulers in China as well as independence from other foreign powers, Japan included.
But they were interested in Japanese assistance, and some of their leaders had received
education and funding in Japan. Support for the reformers set the Japanese against theconservative Korean government, which still accepted a close relationship with China.
It also pitted Japan against the Chinese rulers, who were intervening far more in
Korean politics than they had in their long-standing role as patron of a tributary state.
In 1884 one reformer, Kim Ok-kyun, led a coup d’état with secret promises of
support from the Japanese legation in Seoul. Kim had been inﬂuenced by Fukuzawa
Yukichi in Tokyo a few years before. Fukuzawa had advised him to promote nation­
alism and modernize Korea along Japanese lines. Kim’s rebel forces assassinated con­servative ministers and seized the Korean king, but two thousand Chinese troops in­tervened to put down his coup. Crowds of Koreans angry at the Japanese role behindthe uprising joined the counterattack. They killed ten Japanese military advisors andabout thirty other Japanese residents.
The Japanese press and political organizations responded with furious calls forrevenge. Japan and China were close to war. Some former Liberal Party activists evenorganized private militias. They hoped to send these across the sea to promote Korean“independence.” But in the government, the bloody and economically disastrous Sa­
tsuma rebellion was still a fresh memory, and a major military buildup was just un­
derway. The Meiji rulers were reluctant to send their forces overseas just yet. Neither
did they want private adventurers to get out of hand. In the Osaka Incident of 1885,
Japanese police thwarted a secret plan to lead a militia expedition to Korea. They
¯ Kentarō, a popular rights activist, andarrested the key conspirators, including Oi

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Fukuda Hideko, a leading advocate of women’s rights. The government also upset
domestic opponents by reaching a compromise agreement with China in 1885, the LiItō pact. This was concluded between Itō Hirobumi and the Chinese minister in chargeof Korean affairs, Li Hongzhang. The two sides pledged to take their military forcesout of Korea and offer advance warning of any plan to return.
These incidents of 1881 through 1885 established a pattern that would repeat
itself several times over the next twenty-ﬁve years as Japan carved out a colonial
empire in Asia. The Japanese press and political opponents of the government would
put forth a rhetoric of Asia-wide (pan-Asian) solidarity as they beat the drums onbehalf of causes such as Korean independence from China or Asian equality with theWest. Their vision of Asian unity placed Japan in charge, as tutor and military he­gemon. The Japanese government would rein in but not repudiate such voices, as it
moved more cautiously in a similar direction. Korea would remain the principal but
not the sole overseas site of expanding overseas control. It was the place where theJapanese military, diplomatic ofﬁcers, and civilian “patriots” opposed the Chinese, theRussians, the British (who also sought a foothold on the peninsula), and of course the
Koreans. Many of the latter developed a forceful new nationalism that rejected Chinese
as well as Japanese, Russian, or any foreign domination.
One key to explain the timing of the Japanese push was the ongoing project tobuild a powerful military, both as a force to keep order at home and as an instrumentof empire. In the 1880s and early 1890s, the government funded a substantial buildupof the navy as well as the army. In addition, Yamagata consolidated institutions ofmilitary command that were as insulated as possible from popular and Diet control.
Looking to German models, he founded elite ofﬁcer training academies and a militarygeneral staff with direct responsibility to the emperor. This structure gave the militaryﬁeld command considerable independence from the prime minister and even from theministers of the army and navy.
In the short run, Yamagata’s policies put in place a relatively cautious militarycommand. These men resisted the more reckless popular jingoists. They used force
outside Japan only in favorable situations. In the long run, the lack of external con­straint would enable the military itself to engage in reckless bids for conquest.
After the Li-Itō agreement in 1885, the Japanese government kept a low proﬁlein Korea for nearly a decade. The Chinese gained control by stationing “advisors” at
the Korean court to reform the Korean military and communications network. In ad­
dition, Russian diplomats won increased inﬂuence at the court, where some Koreansviewed them as a counterforce to excessive Chinese authority. This in turn led theBritish to occupy a small island off the Korean coast. The British demanded that
Russia pledge to respect Korean territorial “integrity” before they withdrew in 1887.
The United States also joined the contest for inﬂuence in Korea. Several Americans
served as foreign affairs advisors to the throne from 1886 into the 1890s.
With foreign powers pressing from all directions, Korea’s own leaders desperately
maneuvered to gain some breathing space and independence. This proved impossible.
In the early 1890s long-simmering peasant anger at economic distress and the foreign
presence erupted in a major uprising, the Tonghak rebellion. In 1894 this led directly
to a war between China and Japan, fought in Korea.
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ished plight on both the Korean elite and foreigners—the Japanese in particular but
the Chinese as well. By the spring of 1894, Tonghak rebels had taken control of muchterritory and a major provincial capital, and the Korean government asked China tosend troops to put down the uprising.
The commitment of Chinese troops gave the Japanese government an opening it
was hoping for, leading to the outbreak of the Sino-Japanese War of 1894–95. Japan’s
military buildup had by now given it a rough naval parity with China. Yamagata
Aritomo and other top leaders decided the time had come to secure the upper handin Korea. In the name of “protecting Japanese residents,” in June 1894 they sent eight
thousand troops to Korea and demanded an equal voice with China in administering
Korea’s internal affairs. The Chinese refused. Japan responded by seizing control of
the Korean royal palace in July and forcing the Korean court to declare war on China.
This war was in fact a battle between China and Japan. It consisted primarily ofnaval engagements, and it ended in complete Japanese victory by April 1895. In thepeace treaty concluded at the Japanese port of Shimonoseki, Japan made clear its
aspirations for an area of advantage well beyond Korea. It won control of Taiwan andsome nearby islands, as well as the Liaodong peninsula and railroad building rights
in southern Manchuria. Taiwan indeed became a Japanese colony, although not at thesimple stroke of a pen. Japan had to send an army of sixty thousand troops to put
down ﬁerce Taiwanese resistance to Japan’s initial colonial occupation, and forty-six
hundred Japanese troops died from combat or disease. The Southern Manchurian Rail­way did become the foundation of an expanding Japanese presence in Manchuria, but
in a tripartite intervention in 1895, the Russians worked with French and German
diplomats to force Japan to return the Liaodong peninsula (see map on p. 191).
The outcome of the Sino-Japanese War had a huge impact around the world andin Japan. The Western powers and their publics had expected the Chinese to prevail,and in Western eyes Japan came out of the war with vastly increased prestige as themodel modernizer of the non-Western world. In one typical example of the astonishedreaction to Japan’s swift rise to the status of a global power, the Times of London
quoted Lord Charles Beresford in April 1895:
Japan has within 40 years gone through the various administrative phases that occu­
pied England about 800 years and Rome about 600, and I am loath to say that anythingis impossible with her.2

At home, the war inspired a huge outpouring of nationalist pride. It won thegovernment strong support in the Diet for its previously controversial budget propos­
als. The press led a chorus of contempt for the Chinese “who ran from battle disguised
in women’s clothes.” It praised the righteousness of Japan’s war on behalf of “civilization.”3 The unifying effect of expansionism was a lesson not lost upon the govern­ment, which indeed went into the war in part to shore up support at home.
The war proved economically as well as politically valuable. As part of the peace
settlement, Japan gained an extraordinary indemnity of 360 million yen from China.
This amounted to about four and a half times Japan’s annual national budget of theyear before the war. Most of the bounty (300 million yen) went to military spending.
A small portion was invested in a modern, state-run iron and steel mill at Yahata on
the island of Kyushu. Indirect beneﬁts were substantial. Military procurements helped

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industries such as arms production. By taking pressure off the rest of the budget, thisindemnity allowed the government to grant huge subsidies to the shipping and ship­building industry.
Parallel to this successful drive for empire of the 1890s, the Japanese government
also achieved its long-sought goal of treaty revision. After the failed attempts to ne­
gotiate new treaties with the Western powers in the 1880s (discussed in Chapter 6), a
new round of negotiations took place from 1890 to 1894. In July 1894, barely two
weeks before the start of the Sino-Japanese War, Japan and Britain signed a new treaty.
It stipulated a full end to extraterritoriality in 1899. It returned tariff autonomy to
Japan less immediately; the new treaty limited Japanese duties on most imports to 15
percent or less until 1911. In contrast to the treaty proposals of the 1880s, the newtreaty was to take effect without the much-criticized transitional period when foreign
judges would sit on Japanese courts. The other powers soon followed suit and signed
similar treaties.
Now that the constitution was in effect, public support for the treaties was more
important to the government than ever. Although the constitution gave the emperor
power to make treaties, it also permitted the Diet to “make representations to theGovernment as to laws or upon any other subject.” An unpopular treaty could provoke
serious disruption of Diet proceedings and impede passage of other laws or the budget.
As matters turned out, with the Sino-Japanese War in the background, opinion in
the press and the political parties wholeheartedly welcomed the new treaties, with one
noteworthy reservation. The old treaties gave Westerners special privileges, but theyalso restricted foreigners to a few residential enclaves, the so-called treaty ports. For­eigners were not allowed to live or own property in the Japanese interior. In exchange
for the end to extraterritoriality, Japan agreed to end these prohibitions in 1899 andaccept so-called mixed residence. This sparked a surge of fears of everything fromthe unbridled spread of foreign materialism and gender equality to “foreign insects
poisoning the nation.”4
The hysteria soon subsided; the new treaties and mixed residence took effectwithout incident. The insect invasion did not come to pass, although both capitalism
and feminism had enduring impact (the former more than the latter). In Japanese
popular and ofﬁcial thinking at the turn of the century, as at the start of the Meiji era,
Western institutions and technologies were sources of strength, but the West and West­erners remained a menacing presence. The intervention by the Russians, French, andGermans that had forced return of the Liaodong peninula to China in 1895 only
increased this view. One famous journalist, Tokutomi Sohō, recalled that “the retro­cession of Liaodong dominated the rest of my life. After hearing about it I becamealmost a different person psychologically. Say what you will, it happened because wewere not strong enough. What it came down to was that sincerity and justice did notamount to a thing if you were not strong enough. . . . Japan’s progress . . . would ul­
timately depend upon military strength.”5
Despite such views, other international trends around the turn of the century
offered some prospect that strength might grow from more peaceful ground. Japan’s
overseas trade expanded sharply before and after the Sino-Japanese War. From 1880
through 1913 both imports and exports increased eightfold in volume, roughly dou­bling every decade. This was more than twice the growth rate of world trade overall.

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As a result, the yearly value of imports and exports as a proportion of the total national
product rose from about 5 percent in 1885 to 15 percent by the eve of World War I.6
Japan was able to grow economically by importing both raw materials and sophisti­
cated machinery and exporting manufactured goods, textiles in particular.
Emigration was another important international element in Japan’s economic
growth. Japanese business leaders and writers beginning in the 1880s envisioned em­
igration as a way to allow impoverished Japanese to better their own lives and toenrich Japan by sending their earnings home. Emigrants were few at ﬁrst. By 1890
no more than ﬁve thousand Japanese were living in Hawaii, one thousand in California,
and a comparable number in Korea and China. But emigration surged in the next two
decades, strongly encouraged by the Japanese government. By 1907 there were sixtyﬁve thousand Japanese in Hawaii and sixty thousand in the continental United States.
The wages sent home by these emigrants, for the most part agricultural laborers,
accounted for about 3 percent of all Japanese foreign exchange earnings in theseyears.7 Some prominent Japanese at the time considered this peaceful emigration andtrade to be an alternative to colonization by force. But most Japanese journalists,
intellectuals, and government ofﬁcials came to see economic expansion and emigrationas partners to, and not substitutes for, an expanding colonial empire backed by apowerful military.8
From 1895 through the early 1900s, Korea remained their primary strategic con­cern. The Shimonoseki treaty of 1895 forced China to recognize Korea as an “inde­
pendent” state. With this provision, the Japanese expected to keep the Chinese at bay.
They tried to dominate the Korean government by stationing advisors in Seoul toadminister Meiji-style reforms. But Korean leaders were unhappy with Japanese con­trol and the direction of reforms. They continued to play foreign powers against eachother by turning to Russia for help. Over the next decade, the Russians came to rival
the Japanese position in Korea. They challenged it in Manchuria as well by seizing
the Liaodong peninsula in 1898.
Japanese leaders responded with several initiatives to regain control in Korea andestablish themselves as an imperial power in Asia. In 1900–01 Japan sent ten thousand
troops to China—the largest single national contingent—to join the multinational force
that put down the Boxer Rebellion. This rebellion involved several months of violent
attack on foreigners in Peking and the port city of Tientsin. The rebels were membersof a secret society that practiced traditional calisthenics (hence, the Westerners called
them Boxers) and other rituals said to make them immune to bullets. But the Boxer
forces could not, after all, resist foreign troops. Japan joined the subsequent peace
conference as an equal to the other powers and won the right to station a “peace­
keeping force” in the vicinity of Peking.
In the wake of the Boxer uprising, the Japanese drew closer to the British, while
the Russians kept their troops in Manchuria and sought to extract further exclusive
concessions from China before leaving. The Japanese and British formalized theircooperative ties with an alliance in 1902. By this agreement the British recognizedJapan’s special interests in Korea. Each nation pledged to aid the other if Russia anda fourth party attacked either one. Such a combined attack never took place. None­theless, with a colony in Taiwan, troops in Peking, and an alliance with the British,
Japan had secured a place as one of Asia’s imperial powers.

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Over the next several years, Japanese leaders sought above all to solidify hegem­
ony in Korea. One option viewed with favor by Itō Hirobumi in particular was a
diplomatic deal with the Russians. Japan would grant them primacy in Manchuria ifthey would retreat in Korea. Through 1903, the government negotiated in a half­hearted way with Russia. In fact, Japan was unwilling to concede full control ofManchuria to the Russians, and the latter were equally insistent on maintaining a
Korean presence. In addition, political parties, journalists, and leading intellectuals,
including a group of prominent Tokyo Imperial University professors, held rallies andissued increasingly forceful calls for war. This strengthened the hand of hawkish
voices among the Japanese negotiators. The atmosphere—and the role of a jingoisticpress—was quite similar to that in the United States on the eve of the SpanishAmerican War of 1898. By February 1904, the Japanese government had decided tosecure its position in Korea as well as Manchuria by force. It declared war on Russia.
This began the Russo-Japanese War, Japan’s second major military struggle over Korea
in a decade.
From the outset, leaders of the Japanese army and navy viewed this war as arisky endeavor. Conﬁrming their fears, the military results were mixed. Japan won astring of land battles as it advanced north on the Korean peninsula toward Manchuria.
The army also prevailed in January 1905 in a half-year siege of Port Arthur at the tipof the Liaodong peninsula. In May 1905 the navy destroyed the Russian ﬂeet off thecoast of Korea. Yet the Japanese could not rout the Russian forces completely, andtheir own human and material losses were high. Japanese armaments were running
short. Funds were scarce. The Russians also had motive to stop ﬁghting. They fearedthat a continued war would incite revolutionary movements back home.
In May 1905 the Japanese oligarchs secretly asked the American president, Theo­
dore Roosevelt, to mediate. A treaty of peace was negotiated at Portsmouth, New
Hampshire, and signed on September 5, 1905. The settlement reﬂected the uncertain
military situation. The Japanese gained control of Russian railway lines in southern
Manchuria and took over Russian leases in two Manchurian ports as well. They also
won recognition of their exclusive rights in Korea. But aside from territorial rights
on the southern half of the virtually uninhabited Sakhalin island, Japan emerged withno outright gains of land and no ﬁnancial compensation. This contrasted sharply with
the Sino-Japanese War. Public opinion at home was severely disappointed.
Nonetheless, Japan was now clearly in control of Korea. Its advisors in fact ran
the government. The Japanese army, through the ofﬁce of resident general, adminis­
tered Korean foreign relations. The resident general increased his power in 1907 when
Japan forced the Korean monarch to resign and disbanded the Korean army. Japanthen annexed Korea outright as a colony in 1910. Until 1945, the ofﬁces of the gov­
ernor general of Korea, appointed by the emperor, held complete military, judicial,legislative, and civil authority.
From the end of the Russo-Japanese War through the annexation, Japanese inter­national relations remained troubled. The Koreans and Chinese deeply resented andoften resisted Japanese domination. The United States had become a naval power in
the Paciﬁc in the 1890s. American hostility to Japanese immigration grew sharply inthe early 1900s. In 1907–08 the United States forced Japan to accept the so-called
Gentleman’s Agreement. This limited Japanese immigration to close relatives of people

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already there. In addition, the United States had adopted its “Open Door policy” in
1899, which insisted that all nations have equal access to any of the ports open to
trade in China. This position set the Americans against Japanese claims to hold special
rights in Manchuria.
But at the very least, Japan’s position in Taiwan and Korea was secure frominternational challenge; Korea had been shifted from a “zone of advantage” to a “zoneof sovereignty,” now ringed by an expanded area of advantage. A broad range of
foreign opinion admired these achievements, using invidious racial comparisons. Be­
atrice Webb, the famous British socialist, wrote during a 1911 trip to Asia that the
Chinese were “a horrid race.” She voiced similar scorn for Koreans. But the Japanese,
she said, “shame our administrative capacity, shame our inventiveness, shame ourleadership.”9
The Japanese state in this way acquired economic privilege beyond its borders.
It eroded, then denied, the political autonomy of other people. Several actors andforces drove Japan to become an imperialist power. First, indigenous intellectual
traditions developed by scholars of National Learning or those of the Mito domain
rejected both Sino-centric and Western models of international relations. They claimed
a special place for Japan as a divine realm that “constitutes the head and shoulders of
the world and controls all nations.”10 The new rulers of Meiji Japan drew on such
attitudes as they looked to secure Japan’s position in Asia and enshrine the emperor
as the pillar of the domestic order as well. The jingoistic press, the public, and ad­
venturers seeking pan-Asian unity with Japan at the head were inspired by such ideas
as well.
Second, the Meiji rulers accepted a geopolitical logic that led inexorably towardeither empire or subordination, with no middle ground possible. They saw the nonWestern world being carved up into colonial possessions by the strong states of theWest. They decided that Japan had no choice but to secure its independence by em­
ulating the imperialists. Thus, Yamagata Aritomo developed the strategic vision ofzones of sovereignty ringed by zones of advantage. As this doctrine took root in aworld of competing powers, it contained a built-in logic of escalation. Conceivably
Japanese leaders could have defended national independence and prosperity in Asia
by promoting trade and emigration with both neighbors and distant nations, without
seeking an imperialist advantage. But no leaders believed this was possible. The be­havior of other powers hardly encouraged them to change their minds.
Third, inﬂuential Japanese also developed substantial overseas business interests,
especially in Korea. Trade to and from the peninsula grew sharply from the 1880s.
Leaders of the ﬁnancial world staked important claims as well. In 1878, led by thegreat entrepreneur Shibusawa Eiichi, Japan’s First National Bank began opening Ko­
rean branches. It became the major ﬁnancial institution in Korea by far, a combinationof a commercial and a central bank handling customs, currency issue, loans, andinsurance to traders. Shipping lines and railway promoters were also prominent players
in the Korean economy. The sum total of these activities was modest in comparison
to the entire Japanese economy, but the leading Japanese businessmen active in Korea
were politically inﬂuential ﬁgures in Japan. They had particularly close ties to Itō
Hirobumi, who served as the ﬁrst resident general in Korea after the Russo-Japanese

123

Empire and Domestic OrderWar. Itō paved the way toward formal annexation by forcing the Korean king to
abdicate in 1907. He was assassinated in 1909 by a Korean nationalist.
Military and economic domination were two sides of a single coin. All of Japan’s
elites as well as the vigorously opinionated public saw Korea, and Asia more generally,
as a frontier for Japan’s expanding power and prestige. The move to empire was thus
“overdetermined.” That is, it was propelled by connected logics of military power,
competitive geopolitics, expanding trade and investment, as well as nativist ideals ofJapanese supremacy. These ideas were reinforced in turn by the racialist thinking so
dominant in the West at this time.

CONTEXTS OF EMPIRE, CAPITALISM, AND NATION-BUILDING

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From the Meiji restoration through 1890, civilian bureaucrats and the military had
ruled in the name of the sovereign emperor. Itō Hirobumi and his colleagues who
wrote the Meiji constitution of 1889 gave the Japanese people a limited political voicethrough the elected lower house of the Diet. But they expected bureaucrats and gen­erals to continue to rule without signiﬁcant accountability to the broader populace.
Things did not turn out as planned. A vigorous drive for participatory, parlia­
mentary politics emerged from the 1890s into the early twentieth century. Its sup­porters accepted, and even embraced, both imperial sovereignty and the emergence ofJapan as an imperialist power in Asia. But they sharply challenged the leaders in thebureaucracy and military. The anchors put in place by Japan’s rulers around the turnof century failed to bind people completely to their rulers’ wishes.
Three related projects of Japan’s modernizing elite provided the context for theunexpectedly turbulent politics of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries: thedrive for empire, the industrial revolution, and policies of nation-building.
Imperialism shaped domestic politics in large part because it was expensive. Be­
ginning in 1896 the government consistently sought new taxes to enforce Japan’sfoothold on the Asian mainland. People protested these impositions, even though they
approved of the result. The imperialist project had a more indirect political impact aswell. The numerous parades and demonstrations of the Sino-Japanese and RussoJapanese wars gave new legitimacy to public gatherings, especially in cities. As thegovernment mobilized people behind wars it unwittingly fostered the belief that thewishes of the people, whose commitment and sacriﬁce made empire possible, should
be respected in the political process.
The rise of industrial capitalism in late nineteenth-century Japan brought on arelated set of politically important changes. Expansion of heavy industry beginning in
the interwar decade around the turn of the century was ﬁnanced in part by fruits of
empire such as the demand for arms production and the Sino-Japanese War indemnity,
which subsidized steelmaking and shipbuilding in particular. Industrialization thenproduced a growing class of wage laborers, skilled male workers as well as female
textile workers. These people tended to cluster in the cities, especially Tokyo andOsaka. They played key roles in political agitations of the early twentieth century.
Further, as industry and commerce expanded, the number of retail shops, whole­sale enterprises, and small factories increased in both new and old industries. Small

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Mother and children receive word of husband/father’s death in the SinoJapanese War. Painted in 1898 by Matsui Noboru. Such paintings conveyed
the grief of the survivors, but they sought to do so in a way that suggested
the nobility of sacriﬁcing one’s life for the country and exalted the stoic re­sponse of the family members. Ironically, when this painting—a proud pos­session of the Imperial Household Agency—was used in a high school text­
book in the 1960s to illustrate the character of prewar society and politics,
the Ministry of Education refused to authorize the textbook. A major contro­
versy ensued for decades when the author (Ienaga Saburō) sued the govern­
ment for its action.
Museum of the Imperial Collections, Sannomaru Shōzōkan, Imperial Household Agency.

124

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Empire and Domestic Order

Politician making a speech from a theater balcony in central Tokyo on September 5, 1905,
the day of the Hibiya riot in protest of the terms of the treaty that ended the Russo-Japanese
War. Political rallies of this sort were not usually accompanied by violence. Many hundredsof such events, some indoors and some in the open air, were convened each year in major
cities in the 1890s and early 1900s, especially, of course, as elections approached.
Tokyo Sōjō Gahō.

business proprietors—whose Euro-American counterparts are called petty bourgeoisie—had to pay various local and national taxes. But in the ﬁrst thirty years of Diet
politics, their tax payments rarely qualiﬁed them to vote. The burden of taxation
without representation, familiar to students of history elsewhere, greatly angered thesepeople. They launched several energetic anti-tax movements from the 1890s to the1920s.

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MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5

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The impact of nation-building programs on politics was also profound. The simple
fact that the constitution created an elected Diet sent to any attentive person a message
that Japan was a nation of subjects with some degree of political rights in addition toduties. Obligations to the state included serving in the military, attending school, andpaying taxes. Rights for men included suffrage and a voice in deciding the fate of thenational budget. Electoral politics encouraged a vigorous partisan press, political par­ties, and other practices of democratic political systems: speech meetings and rallies,
speaking tours and demonstrations. By the 1890s, hundreds of legal, open politicalrallies were convened each year in major cities. This was something new in Japanese
history.
The right of even a few men to vote for members of a national assembly impliedthat a potentially expandable body of politically active subjects existed. Virtually allpolitical leaders and most followers in these early days of the twentieth century weremen of means and education: landlords, capitalists, and an emerging class of urban
professionals such as journalists and lawyers. But the formerly parochial, apolitical,
and often impoverished commoners of Japan, some women as well as men, wereswelling the ranks of political rallies and movements. They, too, were developing a
sense of themselves as members of the nation, ready to voice opinions on foreign anddomestic policy.

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THE TURBULENT WORLD OF DIET POLITICS

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Called into being by the Meiji constitution, the bicameral Diet had the power to passlaws and approve the government’s annual budget. From the time of the ﬁrst electionin 1890, it immediately became a focal point of Japanese political life.
The election law promulgated together with the constitution in 1889 limited both
suffrage and ofﬁce to men of substantial property. It allocated three hundred seatsacross 257 districts to the House of Representatives (some large districts were given
two members). The ﬁrst men elected to the Diet were primarily landlords. In addition,a sprinkling of businessmen and former bureaucrats won seats, as did some urban
professionals such as journalists, publishers, and lawyers. Roughly one-third of these
representatives were former members of the samurai class.
The House of Peers, in contrast, was not elected. Members were appointed by
the emperor from several categories, including the hereditary peerage created in 1885,
males in the imperial family, and the highest taxpayers in the nation. A few imperial
appointees won posts for distinguished government service or scholarship. The Peers
collectively formed a privileged and extremely conservative group of top former bu­
reaucrats, former daimyō, a few members of the Tokugawa family, as well as thewealthiest men in the nation. They were intended to restrain any liberalizing pressuresfrom the House of Representatives.
Diet members voted on legislation introduced either by government ministers orby the representatives themselves. They voted on the budget, and they debated nu­
merous other matters. One controversial issue was the expansion of the electorate.
Beginning in late 1897 some Diet representatives joined with activists in the press topromote the suffrage movement. In 1900 the government lowered the tax qualiﬁcation

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for voting from 15 to 10 yen per household. This step doubled the electorate fromabout 1 percent to 2 percent of the population.
From the ﬁrst sessions in the 1890s, members of the Diet discussed social prob­
lems as well. They looked into the health and conditions of factory workers, and theydebated the merits of protective “factory laws” on European models. Governmentofﬁcials argued in favor of steps such as limited hours of night work for women andchildren. Representatives allied to textile magnates and other industrialists ﬁercely
opposed such a law. They reached a compromise in 1911 with passage of the relatively
weak Factory Act. Diet members also addressed issues of foreign policy. They uni­
formly rallied behind the ﬂag during Japan’s wars of imperialist expansion, but they
just as consistently balked at the high cost of the military during peacetime and re­sisted proposals to expand the size of the military.
But in the early years of Diet politics, local issues loomed largest. Taxes and theiruses were certainly the most controversial matters. Landlords in the Diet pushed thegovernment not to rely solely on the land tax, and the Diet passed a new “businesstax” in 1896. It levied a charge on businesses that rose in proportion to numbers of
employees and buildings as well as revenues. Over time, the proportion of national
revenues derived from the land tax declined substantially. Not surprisingly, Diet rep­resentatives with close ties to leading capitalists launched a vigorous campaign torepeal the business tax.
As they struggled with these issues, ministers of state and elected representatives
simultaneously wrangled over what to do with tax revenues. Should they go primarily
to the army and navy? Should they be used for local projects such as harbor improve­ments and roads? If so, in which districts? As elsewhere, this was the everyday stuffof parliamentary politics in modern Japan.
The ﬁrst six Diet sessions took place from 1890 to 1894. They were contentious
in the extreme. On one side stood the government: cabinet ministers appointed by theemperor, who supervised a bureaucracy of state employees selected by the new civil
service examination system. Against the government stood the members of opposition
political parties. Their members consisted mainly of former popular rights activists.
They grouped into a Liberal and a Progressive party for the ﬁrst election, in July 1890,
and together won a majority with 171 seats. The oligarchs were able to pull together
a pro-government party of just 79 members. The opposition immediately pushed to
cut the budget. The no-nonsense prime minister, Yamagata Aritomo, was inclined tooverride this opposition and even dissolve the Diet. But in order to make the ﬁrst
session a smooth one, he compromised and a budget was passed.
The next several sessions, through 1894, saw repeated confrontation between theDiet members in the Liberal and Progressive parties and hardliners among the oli­garchs, in particular Yamagata and Matsukata Masayoshi (prime minister initially from1891 to 1892). The Diet members were intent on cutting the budget. The oligarchs
had little use for parliament. They tried to invoke the emperor’s name, with somesuccess, to force politicians to support the government position. The Home Ministry
had the job of supervising elections. It often pressured voters to support government
candidates with police violence and bribery. (See Appendix A for full list of Prime
Ministers.)
The second Diet election in 1892 was particularly violent. No less than twenty­

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MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5

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ﬁve voters died, and several hundred were injured in ﬁghting at the polls. Even so,
the opposition parties together retained a majority of seats. In this and the following
three sessions, the government resorted to threats, bribes, admonitions issued by theemperor, and dissolution of the Diet to pass its agenda. Japan’s experience with par­liamentary politics got off to a very rocky start.
The start of a move toward a more cooperative politics of compromise began with
the Sino-Japanese War. Members of the Diet enthusiastically supported the war. They
put political struggles with the government on hold under Prime Minister Itō’s wartime
unity cabinets. For his part, Itō also came to support a cooperative political strategy.
He was willing to offer Diet representatives bureaucratic posts and a voice in the
allocation of funds in exchange for their support of the government budget.
After the war, the cooperative mood receded for several years. Although Matsukata Masayoshi (prime minister once more from 1896 to January 1898) did appoint¯
Shigenobu, as foreign minister, he was not willing to
the party politician, Okuma¯
party sought. He dissolved the Diet after suffering
concede as many favors as Okuma’s
a no-conﬁdence vote. Similar reluctance to share the spoils of ofﬁce with party men
doomed the cabinet of the hardline oligarchic leader Yamagata Aritomo, prime min­ister from November 1898 to 1900.
The year 1900 marked the start of Itō Hirobumi’s ﬁnal stint as prime minister.
The turn to the twentieth century inaugurated an era of gradually more stable com­
promise between state ministers and elected Diet politicians. Itō committed himself
to a strategy of compromise and alliance with Diet representatives. In 1900 he orga­
nized a new political party, called the Friends of Constitutional Government (Rikken
Seiyūkai, abbreviated as Seiyūkai). The core of the Seiyūkai was comprised of former
members of Itagaki’s Liberal Party. After Itō resigned as prime minister in 1901, theprime minister’s ofﬁce alternated for twelve years between Yamagata Aritomo’s righthand man, a general from Chōshū named Katsura Tarō, and Itō’s close protégé, Saionji
Kimmochi, a liberal-minded court noble who helped lead the Seiyūkai. Katsura heldofﬁce three times (1901–06, 1908–11, 1912–13), and Saionji served twice (1906–08
and 1911–12). Each man ruled by making alliances with the Seiyūkai, which was
becoming an increasingly cohesive force in the House of Representatives. Saionji
cooperated out of conviction. He believed a more inclusive body of men of substancewould bring political and social stability to Japan. Katsura was more suspicious of
the parties. He made reluctant deals of convenience or necessity.
The other truly important political ﬁgure in these years was a well-to-do son of
a former samurai family, Hara Kei. He was the effective leader of the Seiyūkai fromabout 1904.11 His varied career reﬂects his character as a master networker. He beganwith a brief stint in the government, then turned to journalism, where he was a suc­cessful editor. In the 1880s he was recruited into the Foreign Ministry, then returned
to journalism in the early 1890s, before entering the Seiyūkai party as secretary gen­eral in 1900. He was elected to the Diet in 1902 and held a seat until his death.
Hara was the master of what one historian has called “the politics of compromise,”practiced behind the scenes to increase the power of elected politicians and politicalparties.12 Hara traded his party’s support of the government budget for one of two
sorts of political goods. The ﬁrst was government ofﬁce, especially cabinet positions,for party members. This helped ensure the second, which was public spending in

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member districts for roads, harbor improvements, schools, and railroad lines. He per­fected Japan’s version of “pork barrel” politics, a practice that has continued eversince.
One key deal came in late 1904. Hara offered to support Katsura’s wartime budget
in exchange for a promise that the Seiyūkai president, Prince Saionji, would be thenext prime minister. Katsura honored the bargain, and the Seiyūkai was able to place
its members in every cabinet through 1912. Through such maneuvering, the Seiyūkai
became more cohesive and bureaucratic, while the bureaucracy became more partisan.
When a party leader such as Hara served as home minister, he would advance thecareers of ministry bureaucrats who pledged allegiance to his party by promoting themto higher posts in prefectural government or the police. In return, such men provided
sympathic policing of local and national elections, which gave the Seiyūkai a powerfulboost at the polls.
From its founding in 1900 through 1912 the Seiyūkai was the only effective
political party in the national Diet. At this point, the greatest political confrontation
since the inauguration of Diet politics in 1890 took place. It unfolded just months
after the death of the Meiji emperor in July 1912, which began the reign of his son,the Taishō emperor. The political battle that began that autumn was aptly labeled the“Taishō political crisis.”
Novelist Natsume Sōseki has left the most memorable evocation of the emperor’s
death as a symbol of the passing of an era in his famous novel of 1914, Kokoro. The
main character concludes, “I felt as though the spirit of the Meiji era had begun withthe emperor and had ended with him.”13 Millions of people shared the belief that themodernizing nation stood at a moment of transition. This impression intensiﬁed pow­
erfully when General Nogi Maresuke and his wife committed suicide on the day ofthe emperor’s funeral. Nogi had become a military hero for his role in the SinoJapanese War, but his leadership in key battles of the Russo-Japanese War had been
disastrous, leading to huge casualties in futile attacks. His suicide appeared to be an
act of atonement for this failure. The press blared out headlines of this shocking ﬁnal
act of loyalty of a military couple to their ultimate commander, the emperor.
The major political battle that unfolded as the Taishō emperor began his reign
conﬁrmed the popular sense that a new era had begun. The crisis erupted in November
1912. Prime Minister Saionji had for some time faced strong pressure from the army
to provide funds for at least two new divisions. This was part of a plan to expand themilitary that had been approved by the government in general outline in 1906. But
Saionji wanted to reduce government expenses, so he refused funding for the divisions.
At this point, the army minister resigned. The military further refused to supply areplacement (by law, the ministers of the army or navy had to be active duty ofﬁcers).
Unable to form a cabinet, Saionji resigned.
At this point the Seiyūkai held a majority in the Diet as well as strong popularsupport. The press and leading intellectuals viewed the military’s tactics as an affront
to “constitutional government.” By this term they meant a system that respected thepower of the elected members of the Diet. Business leaders were less ideologicallycommitted, but they supported the Seiyūkai drive to cut government expenditures.
When Katsura Tarō replaced Saionji as prime minister and refused any concessions
to the Seiyūkai, all of Katsura’s opponents joined forces in the unusually vigorous

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MO D E R N R E V O L U T IO N , 1868 – 1 9 0 5ietyMovement to Protect Constitutional Government. They issued manifestos and held
dozens of well-attended indoor and outdoor rallies. These reached a peak in February
1913.
Katsura, for his part, understood that he needed a base of some sort in the Diet.
He believed he could win the support of nationalistic representatives who would defectfrom the Seiyūkai. But when he launched a new party, the Rikken Dōshikai, in De­
cember 1912, he drew a mere eighty-three members. Not one man came over fromthe Seiyūkai. Katsura faced an aroused populace outside the Diet and a no-conﬁdence
vote within it. He was increasingly desperate, so he turned to the emperor as otheroligarchs had done before. He had the emperor issue a rescript calling on Saionji tocooperate.
At this point something quite unusual happened. Seiyūkai members called Katsura’s bluff, while the demonstrations continued outside. In one of the most memo­
rable speeches in the brief history of the Diet, Ozaki Yukio, a famous advocate ofparliamentary government, declared on February 5 that Katsura and his supporters

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always preach loyalty, as if they alone know the meaning of loyalty to the Emperor
and love for the country, while in reality, they conceal themselves behind the throne
and snipe at their political enemies. Do they not indeed seek to destroy their enemies
by using the throne as a parapet and the imperial rescripts as bullets?14

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Katsura had tried and failed to use the emperor to inﬂuence a partisan political battle.
By one account he “turned deathly pale . . . His facial expression was like one being
sentenced to death.”15
Several days later, major riots broke out in Tokyo and other cities. On February
10, anxious crowds gathered outside the Diet, hoping to learn ﬁrsthand of Katsura’s
expected resignation. When word spread that the Diet would not convene that day,the crowd turned violent. Groups of rioters destroyed thirty-eight police sub-stations
in Tokyo, and they attacked pro-government newspapers. Several people were killed,
and hundreds were injured and arrested. Hara wrote fearfully in his diary that “if[Katsura] still refuses to resign, I think a practically revolutionary riot will occur.”16
Katsura did in fact resign. The surviving oligarchs (Yamagata and Matsukata, plus
Saionji) asked a navy man, Yamamoto Gonnohyōe, to form a new cabinet, with theunderstanding that the Seiyūkai would have a place in it. Hara bitterly disappointed
the leaders of the Movement to protect Constitutional Government. They wanted him
to hold out for complete party control of the new cabinet. Instead, he accepted threeposts, including one for himself as home minister, and some key policy concessions.
Yamamoto agreed to revise regulations that had given the military a de facto veto overcabinet formation. In the new rules, not only active duty ofﬁcers but also retired
military men could serve as army and navy ministers in the cabinet. Yamamoto also
widened the doorway to party inﬂuence in the bureaucracy by making the vice minister’s position a political appointment in addition to the minister’s. He also reduced
the budget and cut the size of the bureaucracy.
In this fashion, it became clear at the end of the Meiji emperor’s reign thatpolitical rulers could not ignore the power of elected representatives in the Diet, andthat one party above all, the Seiyūkai, had fashioned a cohesive system to control amajority of Diet representatives. But it is also important to note that while Katsura

131Empire and Domestic Orderthus lost the political battle of 1913 in humiliating fashion, his hastily formed Dōshikai
party would persist and improve its fortunes. The tumultuous events of these months
had put in place a structure of two-party rivalry that persisted through the 1930s.

THE ERA OF POPULAR PROTEST

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The riots that marked this Taishō political crisis go a long way toward explaining why
Hara accepted a compromise that betrayed the hopes of hardline advocates of “con­stitutional government.” On one hand Hara insisted that landlords and business leaders
deserved a political voice through their representatives such as his Seiyūkai party. But
no less than his rivals in the bureaucracy or military such as Katsura or Yamagata, he
was terriﬁed by the specter of aroused and politically focused masses. He did notwant to encourage them or their leaders.
Such fear was not paranoia. The ﬁrst twenty years of the twentieth century not
only saw the Diet and its representatives win seats at the table of elite politics but
were also a time of chronic public disturbance. One historian has dubbed this “theera of popular riot.”17 The prospect of popular unrest mixing with new ideologies ofpolitical radicalism eventually led the oligarchs and party politicians to join hands tosecure social order and their own positions of privilege.
In addition to the riots during the Taishō political crisis of 1913, crowds of Tokyo­
ites took violent steps to air their grievances on eight occasions between 1905 and1918, and similar riots took place in other cities.
The ﬁrst riot came in 1905. The treaty announced after the Russo-Japanese War
had greatly disappointed most Japanese people. The war had been eight times as
expensive as the Sino-Japanese conﬂict a decade before. War dead numbered sixty
thousand fallen in battle, plus twenty thousand taken by disease, four times the tollof the Sino-Japanese War. The government and the press had led people to expect anindemnity and territorial gains. But the peace settlement offered neither.
Members of the Diet, intellectuals, journalists, and the mass of the populace were
all furious. Dietmen formed groups to oppose the treaty. They called for a rally toconvene at the Hibiya Park in the heart of Tokyo on September 5, 1905. The police
forbade it. A crowd gathered anyway, heard speeches, and spilled out in all directions
to launch a massive three-day riot. Violence broke out in numerous cities nationwide.
Tokyo was reported to be in a state of anarchy. Seventeen rioters were killed. No lessthan 70 percent of the city’s police substations were destroyed.
For Japan’s bureaucratic and military rulers, the Hibiya riot was a frightening
event. By their actions as well as in speeches, people were saying that if they wereto pay for empire, and die for it, their voice should be respected in politics. Although
the people were vociferous supporters of empire and the emperor, they were con­demning his ministers for ignoring what they called “the will of the people.” The men
who organized the rallies and led the riots called in their speeches for a politicalsystem that would respect the shared wishes of the people and the emperor. Several
such “wishes” emerged with particular clarity. People wanted lower taxes, hegemonyin Asia, the respect of the West, and the freedom to assemble and make these demands.
For a time, men of substance in the Diet were willing to encourage these voices.

Site ofOriginAgainst peace ending
the RussoJapanese War

Against clique
government; for“constitutional
government”

Hibiya Park

March 15–18,
1906

Against streetcar fareincrease

Against “unconstitutional” behav­
ior of bureauc­racy, Seiyūkai

Hibiya Park

Sept. 5–8, 1906

Against streetcar fareincrease

Against “unconstitutional” actions

Hibiya Park

Feb. 11, 1908

Against tax increase

Feb. 10, 1913

For constitutional
government

Sept. 7, 1913

For strong China
policyFeb. 10–12, 1914

Against naval corruption; for consti­
tutional
government

Feb. 11, 1918

For universal
suffrageAug. 13–16, 1918

Against high rice
pricesSept. 5–7, 1905

Soc

Main Issues

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TABLE 8.1 Riots in Tokyo, 1905–18

Outside Diet

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Against clique
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Hibiya ParkAr

Hibiya Park

Against business
tax; for strong
China policy

Outside Diet

Ueno Park

Against Terauchi
cabinet132

Hibiya Park

Description
17 killed; 70 percent ofpolice boxes, 15
trams destroyed; progovernment newspa­
pers attacked; 311
arrested; violence inKobe, Yokohama,
rallies nationwide
Several dozen street­cars smashed; attacks
on streetcar company
ofﬁces; many ar­
rested; increase
revoked113 arrested; scores injured; scores ofstreetcars damaged;
police boxes
destroyed
21 arrested; 11 street­cars stoned
38 police boxes
smashed; govern­
ment newspapers at­tacked; several
killed, 168 injured(110 police); 253 ar­rested; violence inKobe, Osaka, Hiro­shima, Kyoto
Police stoned; Foreign
Ministry stormed;
representatives enter
Foreign Ministry tonegotiate
Dietmen attacked; Diet,
newspapers stormed;
streetcars, police
boxes smashed; 435
arrested; violence in
Osaka
Police clash with dem­
onstrators; 19arrested
Rice seized; storessmashed; 578 ar­rested; incidents
nationwide

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Crowd storming and setting ﬁre to the home minister’s residence during the Hibiya antitreaty riot of 1905, dramatically rendered in a special issue of the Japan Graphic (the Lifemagazine of its day). The issue was titled “The Riot Graphic.” Although the surface cause of
the riot was a perceived weakness in foreign policy, the home minister was a particular tar­
get of popular wrath because he was responsible for policing and suppressing political or­
ganizing. The police themselves were often attacked as well.
Tokyo Sōjō Gahō.

They called for rallies during political upheavals in 1912–13, and again in 1913–14,
knowing full well that riots might follow, because they stood to beneﬁt if popularenergies discredited the oligarchs. But this was an alliance of temporary convenience.
By the end of World War I, elite politicians came to see that they shared with bu­
reaucrats and military men an interest in social order and control that was threatened
from several directions.

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They identiﬁed one such threat in Japan’s ﬁrst generation of socialists. Interest inWestern socialism, now translated into Japanese, began to increase in the late 1890s.
A group centered on Abe Isoo, Katayama Sen, and Kōtoku Shusui announced thefounding of a Social Democratic Party in 1901, but the Katsura cabinet banned theparty that same day. Socialist supporters nonetheless continued their activities, launch­ing a weekly paper, the Commoner News (Heimin Shinbun) in 1903. In addition toreporting on labor unrest, the paper offered a singular voice of opposition to the RussoJapanese War.
This small group of socialists staked out increasingly militant positions after thewar. In 1906 they led protests against increased streetcar fares that ended with minor
riots. In 1908 sixteen of them were arrested at a rally featuring ﬂags emblazoned withthe words “Anarchism” and “Communism.” Three years later, a handful of activists
in the socialist camp plotted to assassinate the Meiji emperor. The police uncovered
the plan and used it as pretext to arrest a far larger number of socialists. Twelve of
these people were executed in what came to be called the Great Treason Incident of
1911. This harsh and widely publicized action silenced left-wing activists for several
years.
One of the conspirators executed in 1911 was a woman named Kannō Suga. In
addition to supporting socialism, Kannō and several other unconventional women pi­
oneered the feminist cause in the early twentieth century. Like socialism, their ideas
inspired fear and loathing among male rulers. Their major publication, founded in
1907, was called Women of the World (Sekai Fujin). It covered the conditions ofJapanese women workers in mines, textile mills, and brothels. It also offered news ofsuffrage and peace movements of women in other countries.
Most of these early feminists put their demands forward from the position of
mothers and wives. These special roles, they claimed, deserved special protection. To
that extent, they were not necessarily challenging accepted gender roles head on.
Nevertheless, they did challenge the right of the state to demand that their husbands
or sons give their lives as soldiers. The government condemned their activity as sub­versive. Facing constant police harassment, Women of the World was forced to closein 1909.18 Nonetheless, feminist voices continued to be raised in following years.
The concern of feminists with women’s labor conditions points to a third area ofchallenge to elite authority in the early twentieth century. Miners and factory workers,
both women and men, challenged their bosses and company owners with increasing
frequency. In Tokyo, just ﬁfteen labor disputes took place from 1870 to 1896, but
over the following twenty years, from 1897 to 1917, 151 such events occurred. Womenin textile mills as well as men in coal mines, copper mines, arsenals, shipyards, andengineering works organized most of these strikes. Their demands often focused asmuch on dignity and decent food as on pay. For instance, in 1908 a group of workers
at Japan’s largest arsenal, in Tokyo, launched a protest described in an Englishlanguage column by socialist activist Katayama Sen. He had learned English during
a sojourn in the United States:
Government arsenal has been treating its employees in the most cruel manner. They
cannot go to the W.C. without a permission ticket during recess. The number of thetickets is only 4 for a hundred workers, consequently some must wait ﬁve hours. . . .
Every and all little mistakes are ﬁned at least 5 hours’ earnings. They are ﬁned 10 to135

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20 hours’ earnings if they forget any thing their personal belongings. They are now
limited to drink hot water in the meal time. . . . Being unbearable at the treatment,
they 15,000 in number in a body petitioned the authorities for the immediate remedy
with a tactic threat of a strike.19

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This event stopped short of an actual strike and did not achieve its demands. Overtime, such protests became more effective. By the years of World War I, they typicallylasted several days rather than a few hours, resulted from more careful advance plan­ning, and drew in a larger proportion of the work force at any given factory.
Another sign of the increased coherence of labor protest was the appearance ofrelatively stable unions. In the 1890s, men in a few trades with preindustrial roots,such as ship carpenters, had organized effective labor unions. In addition, some heavy
industrial workers in the 1880s and 1890s sporadically sought to create labor unions,but these efforts (described in Chapter 7) had collapsed by 1900. A successful union­izing effort began in late 1912. The founder was Suzuki Bunji, a Christian and grad­uate of Tokyo Imperial University. Looking to much older organizations in Britain asa model, he began by founding a tiny self-help group of artisans and factory workers
called the Friendly Society (Yūaikai) in a church basement in central Tokyo withthirteen members. By 1915 he had built an organization of ﬁfteen thousand duespaying members. The Yūaikai boasted locals in factories large and small in the in­dustrial areas of Japan’s major cities.
The moderate spirit of this organization in its early years is captured in a play
written by a member with literary ambitions, Hirasawa Keishichi. In it, a sympathet­
ically portrayed worker refuses to join a strike. He addresses the issue of how workers
were to secure their dignity:

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The Japanese blood is not ﬁt for shouts of socialism. . . . The time has come for theJapanese people to take back their souls as Japanese. The enemy of Japan’s worker is
not the government or the capitalist. Japanese workers should not act as workers. We
should act as humans and people of the country [kokumin].20

Arya

That is, Hirasawa and Suzuki believed that if working people appealed to their bosses
in a moderate spirit as fellow Japanese, they could reasonably expect improved treat­ment in response.
A new political language of both propertied political activists and plebian pro­
testers thus emerged in the early twentieth century. It was heard in new sites such as
the Diet and the public park. It was presented in new forms of action, from elections
and rallies to riots and strikes. One key word in this political language, which appearedin Hirasawa’s play, was kokumin. It literally means “people of the country” and isusually translated as “the people” or “the nation.” By the early twentieth century it
was as common as the term empire. Both were watchwords of popular movements inJapan that pushed the government to open up the political process and rule withpopular interests in mind. The irony is that the concepts of both nation and empire
took root because of the government’s own nation-building programs dating from the1880s. The rulers of Meiji Japan had established an emperor-centered constitutional
order. They had promoted a capitalist, industrializing economy. They had led Japan
to imperial power in Asia. By doing this, they provoked movements that challenged
their monopoly on political power.

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ENGINEERING NATIONALISM

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The years from the turn of the century through World War I were marked by contra­
dictory political trends. Rulers and the populace alike delighted in the heady achieve­
ment of empire and an alliance with Britain, the greatest power of the day. But bu­
reaucratic and military rulers simultaneously lamented the challenges from party
politicians, as well as the protests and violence of working people, socialists, andfeminists. From the turn of the century through the ’teens, three groups in particular—
the Home Ministry, the army, and the Ministry of Education—responded with initia­
tives to generate greater nationalism and greater loyalty to the state and to authority
more generally.
The Home Ministry took steps to dramatically reorganize the system of local
government beginning in the 1890s. By the end of the Russo-Japanese War, it ordered
the nation’s seventy-six thousand small hamlets to merge into just twelve thousandlarger villages. Fewer villages, the government believed, would be easier to control
from the center. The Home Ministry for similar reasons ordered the merger of 190,000
Shinto shrines—often tiny sites maintained by villagers in the absence of a priest—
to just twelve thousand ofﬁcially recognized shrines, part of the state-administered
Shinto network created in 1900. The ministry also sought to involve women as wellas men in a variety of centrally controlled bodies, such as rural credit societies, topromote collective spirit under a central umbrella. The ministry had created a Ladies’
Patriotic Association in 1901, and the group grew during the Russo-Japanese War toinclude ﬁve hundred thousand members nationwide. After the war, the Home Ministrydrew together scattered local Gratitude Societies (Hōtokukai) into a national networkwith ofﬁcial sponsorship. These groups had been founded in the early Meiji era,usually by landlords hoping to improve technology and community cooperation. They
honored the spirit of a famous agrarian moralist of Tokugawa times, Ninomiya Son­
toku. A set of Women’s Gratitude Societies was launched in 1907.21
The army, for its part, in 1910 founded the Imperial Military Reserve Association(Teikoku zaigō gunjinkai). Its members were volunteers, recruited from among young
men who had passed the conscription exam. By 1918 the group had branches invirtually every village in Japan, boasting over two million members. Its founders
wished to raise military preparedness among men who might be called to active duty
in an emergency. They also had a more general goal of reinforcing social order inturbulent times. As one founder (General Tanaka Giichi) wrote in 1913, “If we thinktoward the future and correctly guide reservists . . . we can control completely theideals of the populace and ﬁrm up the nation’s foundation.”22
The Ministry of Education joined the drive to promote nationalism and respect
for authority by adding two years to compulsory education in 1907. It further stabi­
lized school ﬁnances and changed the curriculum to emphasize nationalism and theemperor more heavily. The ministry also boosted the status of teachers by stressing
their role as national servants and social and cultural leaders of local society.
The government thus reached far into local society to bolster social order. One
ﬁnal example is the effort of the Ministry of Education to remake the customary youth
groups found in most Japanese villages since Tokugawa times. Such groups had con­sisted of separate bodies for young boys and girls. They were not unlike fraternities

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or sororities on college campuses. The groups typically gathered members together inthe evenings for drinking and singing or gambling. The boys’ group would seek out
village girls. Government surveys from around 1910 hint at a lack of discipline orsome delinquent behavior in these groups. They noted that members “demand a day
off from farm work even if it rains a little” and that “if one member is arrested, others
help him escape.” The ofﬁcials also lamented “licentious dancing from midnight tilldawn at festival time, even 2 or 3 days before the festival, forcing young women of
the village to join in, even physically dragging them to dance.”23
The Ministry of Education tried to replace these groups in the years after the
Russo-Japanese War with a nationally controlled network of ofﬁcially sponsored andregistered village youth groups. This project was similar in spirit to efforts in Britain
to found the Boy Scouts around the same time, although the British initiative was
nongovernmental while the Japanese push to reform came from the state. The newyouth groups were designed to be carriers of government messages throughout thenation. Led by mayors and school principals, the groups sponsored festivals, sports
events, and lectures on the virtue of good citizenship.
In the early twentieth century, this wide range of government campaigns, imple­
mented through the leadership of local elites, aimed to reinforce social order and link
it to the national government. They sought to transfer people’s loyalties away fromindependent social groups on the hamlet level and link them instead to groups on thevillage and town level controlled by the state. By the time of World War I, many ties
bound the Japanese people to the state. In theory, these included the ties of dutiful
soldiers in reserve associations, obedient wives and daughters in women’s groups,
respectful tenant farmers in Gratitude Societies or credit associations, pious villagers
supporting local shrines, and earnest students in youth groups.
Natsume Sōseki wickedly satirized these efforts when he lamented in 1914 the“horror” of encouraging the Japanese people to “eat for the nation, wash our faces forthe nation, go to the toilet for the nation!”24 But these links of people to the state
were not always tight. Ofﬁcial reports complained of unreceptive coldness among thepeople. The Ministry of Education surveyed youths in 1915 and discovered with alarmthat only 20 percent could identify the Shinto diety, the sun goddess Amaterasu. Only
30 percent knew of the Yasukuni Shrine to Japan’s war dead. Rural youth, it seemed
to many in the government, were looking to the city, not the countryside, for excite­
ment and for models. The continued energy of a wide array of popular activity outside
the purview of the state makes it clear that the impact of these varied efforts toengineer and coordinate a new degree of national loyalty was limited.
At the same time, the campaigns of the late Meiji years did put in place organi­zations that promoted nationalistic and patriotic ideals with new energies. They rein­
forced an orthodox view of Japanese-ness. This centered on a set of nested loyalties—
of youths to adults, women to men, tenants to landlords, workers to bosses, soldiersand subjects to the emperor and the state. People had room to maneuver and even tochallenge this system at times, but the political order of imperial Japan had a powerfulconstraining force as well.

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IMPERIAL JAPAN FROMASCENDANCE TO ASHES

9Economy and Society

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Diversity and tension mark the economic and social history of the 1910s and 1920s
in Japan. The economy experienced a great wartime boom followed by a prolonged
postwar bust. Economic performance differed between industrial and agricultural sec­
tors as well as between the technologically advanced zaibatsu ﬁrms and the mass of
smaller, less productive enterprises. In social life the worlds of men and women dif­fered greatly, as did those of city-dwellers and rural folk. Within the countryside, thelives of major landlords, owners with smallholdings, and landless tenants were vastlydifferent in many ways. Within towns and cities, diverse groups of wage laborers,
shopkeepers, and a “new middle class” of salaried employees of large corporations
and state bureaus jostled in close proximity. The cityscape was also dotted with thegrand compounds of a small elite of zaibatsu owners and top political leaders.
A newly booming publishing industry, including mass circulation magazines aswell as books and newspapers, celebrated the modern lives of middle-class womenand men. The press reported the anxieties of those striving to keep up or get ahead.
It articulated themes that gave people a sense of participating in a common experienceof modern Japanese life, including pride in the achievement of empire as well as
economic transformation. It also provided a forum where all sorts of critics mightlament the social and political tensions that were inevitable parts of a diverse modern
society.

WARTIME BOOM AND POSTWAR BUSTWorld War I brought unprecedented human disaster to Europe. In Asia it broughtsome unexpected opportunities. The war cut European traders off from their Asiancustomers, and this gave a huge boost to Japan’s newly industrializing economy. Be­
tween 1914 and 1918, Japan’s industrial output rose from 1.4 billion to 6.8 billion
yen. Exports surged with particular speed. Overseas sales of Japanese cotton clothrose 185 percent during these years.1 Industrial employment ballooned as well, andwith workers suddenly in scarce supply, wages rose sharply. Unfortunately for mostworkers and consumers, prices rose even faster. Japan experienced its worst inﬂation­
ary surge in modern times. Between 1914 and 1920 the retail price of rice increased
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174 percent, and overall wholesale prices rose almost 150 percent.2 The social emblemof this wartime boom was the so-called narikin, or nouveau riche. This ﬁgure waslampooned in cartoons—in Japan as elsewhere—in the form of an overfed business­
man lighting a room with his money. The white-collar employees of such magnates
prospered as well. They sometimes received bonuses that quadrupled their normal
salaries.
The good times continued brieﬂy for these men and their families after the war
ended, but the boom came to an abrupt close in April 1920. The stock market plunged,
as did the market in silk, Japan’s major export commodity. Many banks failed. The
value of production in key industries fell as much as 40 percent in one year. Major
employers dismissed thousands of workers.
For the rest of the decade, the economy sputtered from crisis to crisis. One fun­damental problem was that Japanese goods had climbed in cost during the war andremained overpriced in global markets. This placed exporters at a sharp disadvantage
when European competitors returned to Asia after the war. One solution would havebeen to devalue the Japanese yen against other major currencies, thus lowering thecost of Japanese exports. But such a step went against the orthodox thinking of theday, which dictated that nations seek a stable and strong currency linked ﬁrmly to thegold standard. From this perspective, the solution for the Japanese economy was torestore competitivity by lowering domestic prices. The government thus consistently
called for retrenchment and restraint as the harsh medicine needed to restore economic
health, although its policies on occasion contradicted its own rhetoric.3
Manufacturing output showed some signs of recovery by 1922 and 1923. But
then, on September 1, 1923, the Great Kantō Earthquake struck Tokyo and its environs
with horrifying effects. The shocks came just at noontime. Lunch ﬁres were burningin thousands of charcoal and gas stoves around the city. As wooden buildings collapsed
and hibachi stoves tumbled over in neighborhoods crowded with rowhomes and nar­row alleys, ﬁre broke out all over the city. Particularly huge whirlwinds of ﬁre swept
through the eastern wards over the following two days. The city’s distinctive mix ofresidential, commercial and industrial neighborhoods was devastated. Estimates of thedead and missing ranged from one hundred thousand to two hundred thousand. Trem­ors or ﬁre destroyed 570,000 dwellings, roughly three-fourths of all those in the city.4
For a time, economic activity in Japan’s largest city came to a virtual standstill.
In the years after this disaster, tentative signs of recovery appeared. A “recon­
struction boom” in the aftermath of the earthquake temporarily stimulated jobs andbusinesses in the Tokyo area. The government encouraged liberal bank lending as
further stimulus—against the orthodox logic of retrenchment. Industrial production
did increase steadily in key industries such as machine building and shipbuilding. But
the basic problem of high international prices remained, and many producers stoodon shaky grounds. Domestic textile mills, for example, were losing ground to lowercost competitors in China, including Japanese producers with overseas investments.
In 1927 several long-standing weaknesses of the Japanese ﬁnancial system con­verged to produce a major banking crisis. Japanese banks were numerous but quite
small and quite vulnerable. Many of them were poorly diversiﬁed. Many were in far
weaker condition than their balance sheets indicated because they had delayed writing
off failed loans of the immediate postwar depression. In addition, many of the new

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This drawing by the famous cartoon artist Wada Ikuo was titled “The Era of the Prosperous
New Rich.” It lampoons the lifestyles of wealthy businessmen of the World War I boom. As
this captain of industry leaves a banquet, the geisha or waitress complains, “It’s so dark I
can’t ﬁnd your shoes.” He lights a hundred-yen note and says, “How’s that, it’s brighter now
isn’t it?”Courtesy of Kyuman Museum and Saitama Municipal Cartoon Art Museum.

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loans banks made after the earthquake stood on shaky ground. Individual banks often
concentrated their loans to a small number of large borrowers in a few industries intheir region. The government offered no guaranteed protection to depositors.
Like matches dropped on this dry tinder, events at home and in the empire sparked
a panic in the spring of 1927. Rumors spread that shaky loans made in 1923 and 1924
to promote earthquake recovery had placed numerous banks on the edge of collapse,
just as news emerged that a Japanese colonial institution, the Bank of Taiwan, wasgoing to fail. This semiofﬁcial bank had been founded to promote development in
Taiwan. It had aggressively expanded activities to include loans to speculative venturesof a Japanese major ﬁrm operating in Taiwan. When this borrower—the Suzuki Trad­
ing Company—was reported to be insolvent in early 1927, the Bank of Taiwan’s
investors pulled their short-term loans from the bank, forcing it to shut down. In agood example of the close links between imperial expansion and domestic economy
and society, these events sparked a panicky chain reaction of depositor “runs” ondomestic banks, followed by a three-week “banking moratorium” in April and May
and the failure of dozens of small and medium-sized banks.
Over the next several years, the number of banks fell nearly in half because of
failures and mergers. Although manufacturing output continued to rise through theend of the decade, the overall rate of economic growth in the 1920s was only halfCommon scene of a run on a bank during the ﬁnancial crisis of 1927, during which thirtyseven banks failed. Here, in April 1927, a crowd of women and men anxiously wait to with­draw their money from the Tokyo Savings Bank.
Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

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that of the previous thirty years. Even before the world depression jolted Japan in
1929–30, the economy had been stumbling for the better part of a decade. Bothpopular and intellectual opinion blamed the nation’s political leaders for lining theirown pockets at the expense of the majority.
When critics parceled out blame, the zaibatsu combines came under particularﬁre. The major zaibatsu had been founded in the late nineteenth century and often
had Tokugawa roots. But the term zaibatsu itself only came into widespread use
around the time of World War I. A widespread belief that the zaibatsu wrongly dom­
inated the economy—and politics as well—also dates from this time.
The Mitsubishi, Mitsui, Sumitomo, and Yasuda groups, and a handful of some­what lesser combines, were indeed a dominating presence. In their mature form by
the 1920s, each of the major zaibatsu was a sprawling business empire embracing
dozens of corporations in ﬁnance, transport, trade, mining, and manufacturing. Eachzaibatsu was held together at the apex by a holding company. Until the start of WorldWar II, individual families (the Mitsui, Yasuda, and Sumitomo families and, in thecase of the Mitsubishi combine, the Iwasaki family) were the exclusive owners ofthese holding companies. Through them, they controlled the overall affairs of the
combine.
The zaibatsu were self-contained and exclusive in some respects. Mitsui manu­
facturing enterprises agreed to market their exports exclusively through the Mitsui
Trading Company. Firms charged lower prices to businesses within the combine. One
important exception to this exclusive behavior was the fact that zaibatsu banks madeloans outside the combine, to spread risk and expand their power. Another exception
was the policy of ﬁlling managerial positions by recruiting talented graduates from
Tokyo Imperial University who were not members of the zaibatsu families. But evenin these appointments, loyalty to the controlling family was valued highly alongsidebusiness skill and energy. Devotion was further reinforced when rising managerialstars on occasion married the daughters of zaibatsu families.
Through the economic troubles of the 1920s, the zaibatsu extended their reach.
Already in 1918, the eight largest zaibatsu held more than 20 percent of all private
capital in the manufacturing, mining, and trading sectors of the economy. The twolargest combines, Mitsui and Mitsubishi, accounted for 12 percent of all capital inthese sectors. The bank crisis of 1927 opened the way for the zaibatsu banks todominate the ﬁnancial world even more, and to take control of numerous smaller
businesses as well. The reach of the Mitsui and Mitsubishi empires at their peak was
extraordinary (see Table 9.1).
The zaibatsu were controversial at the time. In the late 1920s and early 1930s
right-wing assassins targeted top executives, justifying their acts with the claim that“behind the political parties are the zaibatsu bosses.”5 The zaibatsu have remained
controversial among historians ever since. On one hand, they played a central role in
the industrialization of Japan. They mobilized resources and expertise—capital, labor,
raw materials, and technology—in ways that smaller enterprises could not have du­plicated. On the other hand, as they amassed extraordinary fortunes the zaibatsu gen­erated and reinforced an extremely inegalitarian distribution of wealth and income.
Although zaibatsu magnates opened their wallets to support the political parties in theimperial Diet, they hedged their bets by cultivating close ties to military and bureau­

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I MPER IA L JA P A N FR O M A SC E N D A N CE T O AS HE STABLE 9.1 Core Subsidiaries in the Mitsui and Mitsubishi Combines atWar’s End

Mitsubishi

First-line designatedsubsidiaries

Trading
Mining
Trust
Real estate
Chemicals
Shipbuilding
Precision machinery
Life insurance
Agriculture and forestry
Steamship

Second-line designatedsubsidiaries

Taisho Marine Fire Insurance
Mitsui Warehouse
Mitsui Light Metal
Tropical Produce
Mitsui Petrochemical
Sanki Engineering
Toyo Cotton
Japan Flour Milling
Toyo Rayon
Toyo Koatsu

Trading
Mining
Trust
Real estate
Chemical process
Oil
Steel fabricating
Bank
Electric
Warehouse
Heavy industries
Tokyo Marine Fire Insurance
Japan Optical
Japan Steel Construction
Japan Grain Products
Mitsubishi Chemical
Machinery
Mitsubishi SteamshipJapan Aluminum
Meiji Life Insurance

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Source: From Eleanor M. Hadley, Antitrust in Japan (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1970), pp. 63–
64.

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cratic elites as well. The business elite wanted autonomy and stability above all. They
offered no consistent or principled support for democratic or liberal politics.

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LANDLORDS, TENANTS, AND RURAL LIFE
From the beginning of the twentieth century through the 1930s, rural life was stablein one regard. The relative proportion of landlords, owner-cultivators, and tenantsbarely changed. This contrasted sharply to the previous decades, during which tenant
farmers had increased dramatically in numbers. If anything, conditions in the earlytwentieth century had improved somewhat for tenant farmers compared to the 1870s
or 1880s. More tenants than before found that after setting aside a share of theirproduce for personal consumption and for rent, they had a modest surplus that they
could sell on the market. Military statistics indicate that the height of average conscripts—primarily rural youths—rose as much as three centimeters (more than aninch) from the mid-1890s through 1905. This is a clear if crude indicator of improved
standards of living and diets for the majority of the population.
Even so, by the 1920s the Japanese countryside was a troubled place. After several
decades of increased total output, the overall productivity of Japanese farmers stopped
growing. The gains from a series of relatively inexpensive improvements in tools andcultivation techniques had run their course in the more advanced central and western

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regions. These advances were slow to spread further north. As growth leveled off,social and political tensions began to increase. An immense gulf continued to distin­
guish the lives and lifestyles of the rural upper crust from others in the countryside.
As a result, those in the middle and lower ends of the hierarchy protested morevigorously than before.
The wealthiest landlords—roughly 2 to 3 percent of all rural households—did no
farming themselves.6 They lived easily on rents collected from numerous tenant fam­ilies who farmed their ﬁelds. They dwelt in large, comfortably furnished homes withmany servants. In the decades since the Meiji restoration, such landlords had some­times led the way toward improvements in agricultural practice that increased output
and beneﬁted tenants as well as themselves.7 They continued in the vanguard in areas
such as bringing electricity to their villages. The wives in such families often led
newly founded organizations for women such as the Ladies’ Patriotic Association,
created in 1901. They would mobilize fellow villages to send “care packages” toJapanese troops overseas. They gathered with each other for tea and complained about
their servants. They arranged marriages for their sons and daughters with children ofsimilar backgrounds nearby. Their husbands, in addition to renting out their ﬁelds,
invested in moneylending or small-scale manufacturing. They might spend their leisuretime in traditional fashion, partying with geisha at hotspring inns. Or they might
engage in newer pursuits such as politics, running for local or national ofﬁce, or
supporting the campaigns of fellow landlords. These men and women lived comfort­
able lives marked by ambition, conﬁdence, and a belief that they were the local pillarsof an emerging nation and an empire of consequence in the larger world.8
For the rest of those in the countryside, economic life ranged from modestly
afﬂuent to difﬁcult to desperate. In good times, some tenant farmers could market aconsiderable surplus of their produce and use the proﬁt to improve living standards.
But they remained vulnerable to rent increases and ﬂuctuating commodity prices. Morefortunate farmers might own their ﬁelds, but their holdings were small. They were
often just two or three bad harvests away from having to mortgage ﬁelds for cash to
pay land taxes. After that, if conditions still did not improve, they faced foreclosure,loss of their land, and the more dependent life of a tenant farmer.
Such a life is dramatically evoked in a novel written in 1910 by Nagatsuka Takashi
called The Soil. It tells the story of “poor farmers [who] spent long hours in theirﬁelds doing all they could to raise enough food. Then after the harvest, they had topart with most of what they had produced. Their crops were theirs only for as longas they stood rooted in the soil.”9 These tenant farmers lived in dark tiny homes withdirt ﬂoors in the kitchen and wooden boards but no tatami mats in the rest of thehouse. Their dwellings were drafty and bitter cold in winter. They subsisted on mo­
notonous diets of barley gruel and pickles, with occasional treats of rice and some
fresh vegetables. They depended on the benevolence of their betters to survive hardtimes.
This dependence was the most important source of resentment and conﬂict inrural Japan in the early twentieth century. Farmers lived in a world of great hierarchy.
As social historian Ann Waswo explains:[T]enants were expected to step aside if they encountered anyone of superior status
on a village road or footpath. They were at the beck and call of their landlords, toI MPER IA L JA P A N FR O M A SC E N D A N CE T O AS HE S

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Members of a tenant farmer family on the way to their ﬁelds in the 1920s. To diversify risk,
farmers often rented small plots from several landlords, which could be quite far from eachother and an arduous walk from their homes.

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Courtesy of Akira Konishi.

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perform chores in the landlords’ ﬁelds or in the landlords homes, even if this meantdelaying vital chores of their own. If they were given a meal at the end of their day’slabor, they received it gratefully and consumed it in a dark corner of the landlord’s
kitchen.10

At such moments, a seething fury often lurked close below the surface. Consider thecase of Kamimura Hideji, born in 1915. His memory of the humiliating interaction
between the landlord and his father remained powerful when he was interviewed about
his childhood at the age of seventy-ﬁve. In December each year in the 1920s, hisfather would take a day off from work in the ﬁelds to bring the rent rice to thelandlord. His son sometimes joined him. Handing the rice over, Kamimura’s father
would bow low and thank the landlord. Kamimura remembered watching this cere­mony and “thinking as a child ‘what in the world is going on? Why thank the landlord?
He should thank us!’ ”11
Such an inegalitarian system was sustained, however, by more than simple co­ercion. Hierarchies of status and power were buffered by customary gestures of be­
nevolence. Landlords would customarily contribute the funds for festival celebrations.
They were expected to reduce rents when times were particularly bad and to pay doctor’s bills when a tenant farmer fell ill. It was in awareness that he offered such care

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that the landlord of Kamimura’s father might have expected a thank-you together withthe rent. The inequality of village life was also buffered by the presence of a sub­stantial middling group of owner-cultivators. At the upper reaches, such families had
a few extra ﬁelds to rent out to tenants. At the lower levels, a small-scale landowner
would need to rent an additional plot or two from a landlord. Such farmers occupied
a gradation of statuses. They played an important role in bridging the gap between theminorities of extremely rich landlords and extremely poor, landless tenants.
Even so, antagonism was not always contained. In the 1910s and 1920s, thepaternalistic commitment of landlords to look after their dependent social and eco­nomic inferiors in the local community seems to have weakened. More landlords chose
to live in the provincial capitals or in major cities, sites of greater cultural as well as
economic or political opportunities. They delegated management of their lands to an
estate overseer who might treat tenants in an impersonal fashion. Even wealthy farmers
who stayed in the village often sent their children to provincial towns or major cities
for middle school and higher education. Compared to resident elites, the absentee
landlords provided fewer customary forms of benevolence to poorer villagers, and thisbecame a source of social tension. In the late 1920s, leftist writer Kobayashi Takiji
memorably described absentee landlords as “a strange breed of ﬁsh—like mermen.
The upper part is a landlord, but the lower part is a capitalist, and the lower part is
rapidly taking over the torso.”12
From around the time of World War I, tenant farmers began joining together todemand that landlords reduce their rents. They used the effective tactic of divide andconquer. To minimize dependence on any single person, most tenant farmers rented
ﬁelds from several landlords (just as most landlords rented to several tenants). A groupof well-organized tenants could threaten to withhold all labor from the ﬁelds of justone landlord at harvest time. That landlord would face a total loss although each tenant
faced only a partial one. Most landlords faced with such tactics settled by offering
either a one-year or a permanent reduction in rent. Between 1923 and 1931, anywherefrom ﬁfteen hundred to twenty-seven hundred such tenant-landlord disputes took placeeach year. The most common demand, found in 70 percent of these disputes, was forlower rent. Participation varied from a handful of households in a single village toseveral hundred tenant households spread out over numerous villages. Tenants won atleast some of their demands in three-fourths of all disputes.13
Many of these disputes were led by a new organization in rural Japan, the tenant
farmer union. At their peak in the mid-1920s, such unions enrolled as many as onetenth of all tenant farming families. Some local unions joined together into regionalor national federations. The largest of these was the Japan Farmers Union, founded
in 1922. These unions and their members lacked any legal recognition or protection.
Village leaders exerted considerable social pressure and implied or explicit threatsagainst joining. In such a context, to unionize 10 percent of tenant households in justa few years was an impressive achievement.
By the late 1920s, however, landlords began to counterorganize effectively. By
pooling resources to hire lawyers and coordinate their responses through unions of
their own, they had some success in fending off tenant demands. But in addition, anumber of the wealthiest landlords in particular decided that managing a farm was
simply too much trouble. Throughout the 1920s and increasingly toward the end of148

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the decade, noncultivating landlords sold off ﬁelds and decreased their holdings. They
turned instead to the stock market and industrial investments, which promised stronger
returns with less onerous personal involvement.
The social upheaval in the countryside of the 1910s and 1920s did not stem
primarily from the economic backwardness of abject poverty or traditional hierarchy.
It was fundamentally the product of a more modern rural society. Landlord-tenant
disputes in the 1920s were roughly twice as common in the more commercialized
regions of central and western Japan than in the less productive and less commer­
cialized northeast. Dispute leaders were not the poorest tenants, but those with someprospect to gain from producing cash crops for the market. Disputes were more com­
mon where modern, city-dwelling absentee landlords were more numerous. Such dis­putes are evidence of a gradual shift in the social relations of rural Japan away frompersonal forms of interdependence toward a more impersonal economic hierarchy.
Agrarian protesters were calling in part for better terms of access to the capitalist
economy. At the same time, this modern world offered not only greater opportunities
than in the past but also greater dangers and fewer customary social supports. Farmers
facing this situation wanted the continued respect and support of their superiors to­gether with a measure of personal control and security. Conservative observers viewed
this changing landscape of rural society as one disturbing sign of social disintegrationin the modern era.

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Just as people in the countryside ﬁlled a complex array of statuses, so those in thecities of the early twentieth century consisted of more than the wage-earning masses
and their wealthy employers. The homes and shops of a vast and diverse pool of
middling classes gave urban life a measure of stability and community, and muchvitality.
In Tokyo in 1908, for example, the category of “merchant and tradesmen” ac­counted for 41 percent of all employed people.14 A stroll through any neighborhood
in a major city presented a jumble of ﬁshmongers, rice dealers, tofu or vegetablesellers, bath-house proprietors and booksellers, barbers and hairdressers, charcoal deal­ers, toystore and photo shop owners, all interspersed with tens of thousands of small
restaurants. In alleys behind the retail lanes, one found tens of thousands of whole­salers who distributed goods to such retailers and comparable numbers of petty man­ufacturers who produced goods in the back of their homes: sandal or tatami or um­
brella makers, as well as tiny producers of machine parts, cast metal objects, ceramics,
or foodstuffs.
These small home-based businesses were invariably family operations. Wives
would work alongside husbands.15 The more successful of these people were anchorsof the community. Local businessmen sought elected roles as representatives in theward assembly or city council. They organized trade associations to press the statefor various protections such as tax relief. Beginning in the years after World War I,
municipal governments enlisted thousands of these men in cities, towns, and villages
throughout Japan to carry out welfare services on behalf of the state. By 1920 aroundten thousand such community leaders nationwide served in this role of “district com­

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The lower end of the “old middle class” in towns and cities was made up of hundreds ofthousands of small family businesses, both retail and wholesale trade and small-scale manu­
facturing, such as this store selling dolls, photographed in 1920. Sitting in the storefront
opening out into the street, the owner and his daughter wait on two customers, a mother andher daughter.

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Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

Aryamissioner,” making home visits to impoverished neighbors and handing out modest
welfare payments.16
Lower level ofﬁce workers and even factory laborers in major corporations could
earn better wages than many of those in the middle-to-lower levels of this vast groupof small business owners. But the attraction of being one’s own boss was considerable.
The manager at one of Japan’s premier engineering ﬁrms lamented in 1908 that factory
workers were uppity and restless: “Teaching them anything is like trying to teach acat to pray.” At the same time, he admitted that these people were extremely resource­
ful when they worked for themselves. His company often lost contracts to “shrewd
workers” who pulled up the ﬂoorboards of their homes, installed a machine or two,and started in business for themselves.17
These millions of shopkeepers, wholesalers, petty manufacturers, and their illpaid employees made up what historians call the “old middle class” in Japan’s modern
cities. This was a group with some roots in the commoner society of the Tokugawa
era, although their members in the early twentieth century included former samurai
as well. Around the turn of the century, observers began to identify a smaller newgroup emerging beside them. This was the “new middle class” of educated salaried
employees of corporations and government bureaus and their families.

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Traces of this social class appeared in the late nineteenth century. Since about
1890 corporations such as Mitsui and Mitsubishi had recruited future managers fromuniversities. Some graduates of the top private and public schools began to view
private sector employment as an attractive option to positions in the government bu­
reaucracy. The numbers of vocational middle schools also increased substantially inthese years. A multitiered system of recruitment came to link such schools, as wellas higher schools and universities, to corporate and government employers. Gradually
but steadily, the proportion of private and public sector ofﬁce workers in major cities
increased. In Tokyo, their numbers rose from 6 percent of those employed in 1908 to
21 percent in 1920.18 These employees were the primary breadwinners in the “newmiddle class” of the twentieth century. This was a group with some antecedents inthe civilianized samurai administrators of Tokugawa times. But contestants for thesemore numerous jobs in the early 1900s included not only the children of former
samurai. The offspring of the old middle class of urban shopkeepers or manufacturers,
or middling farmers in the countryside, also sought entry into the ranks of the newurban middle class.19
Middle-class ofﬁce workers included daughters as well as sons. The ﬁrst wellknown case of a major corporation hiring young women for clerical positions camein 1894. The manager of the Osaka branch of the Mitsui bank was inspired by a visit
to the Wannamaker department store in Philadelphia to hire several teenage girls. They
had recently graduated from higher elementary school, and he put them to work in
the accounting section. The practice of hiring young women to work in ofﬁces andretail sales in department stores gradually spread over the next two decades.20
Only a minority of city-dwellers could take much advantage of these glamorous
shopping emporiums with uniformed young women at the sales counter. The poorly
paid clerk was a common ﬁgure of sympathy or ridicule in social commentary of theday. One observer in 1928 speciﬁed the lower range of income for the male ofﬁce
worker to be 20 to 30 yen per month. By contrast, the average wage of a skilled malemachinist in 1927 was 2.6 yen per day, roughly double the clerical wage. Pay for afemale textile worker stood at roughly 1 yen per day, similar to that of a female
typist.21 It is thus not surprising that schoolteachers and even employees at major
trading houses at the height of the inﬂation of World War I formed impromptu struggle
groups demanding wage increases. In Tokyo such groups converged by 1919 into theTokyo Federation of Salary Earners. In March 1920, typists working in companies inTokyo and Yokohama likewise formed Japan’s ﬁrst union of female ofﬁce workers.
They demanded higher pay and status on a par with regular male employees.22
These typists were following the example of increasingly assertive factory labor­ers, women as well as men, who clustered in and around the growing cities in theearly decades of the century. Beginning in 1916, hundreds of female textile workers
began to join the Friendly Society, founded in 1912 by social reformer Suzuki Bunji.
The male union leaders assumed that husbands and fathers were the primary wage
earners in families. They placed these women in a separate category of “auxiliary
member.” In textiles and other industries the average pay for women was under halfthat of men. While pay for men in this era tended to rise gradually over a lifetime offactory labor, women in their forties earned barely 10 percent more than those in their
twenties. At ﬁrst, the women were relatively quiet about such working conditions.

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This situation began to change in the mid to late 1920s. For several reasons, Japanesewomen joined labor actions with unprecedented vigor.
First, as the industrial economy expanded, women began to work in a greater
variety of sites. They labored not only in large textile mills but also in smaller factories
especially in chemical and food-processing industries. Those in smaller workplaces
typically commuted from home rather than live in a dormitory. Their greater freedomof action, and closer ties to men working side by side, allowed them to join labor
disputes more easily than textile workers in large mills.
Second, even among textile workers, increased numbers had completed an ele­mentary education and were able to read the pamphlets and leaﬂets of the organizers.
A third factor was the government’s decision, in 1922, to lift the ban on female
attendance and speaking at political meetings. This made union organizing and dem­
onstrating less perilous for women. Over the following years, women joined unions
and launched disputes in unprecedented numbers.
Discontent over low wages and insecure jobs prompted these actions. But in
addition, a profound sense of alienation from mainstream culture motivated women
workers to seek greater respect in their working lives. The writer Sata Ineko nicely
evoked this spirit in a story titled “From the Caramel Factory,” set in a Tokyo neigh­borhood in the late 1920s. The heroine, Hiroko, reluctantly takes a job at a candy
factory at the urging of her alcoholic father. As she works she gazes out of the window
at billboard ads for soap mounted on the roofs of houses across the river. The ads
reﬂect sunlight all day long, while her work room receives only shade: “The sunlight[shining on the ads] seemed happy.” She and her coworkers complain that “we can’teven afford to buy New Years gifts.” On their once-daily break, the workers are allowed
outside to buy snacks in pairs. In Hiroko’s eyes, the poorly clothed factory girls appear
somehow deformed walking along the main street. And at the end of the day, theemployees line up at the gate for a body check. Waiting in a sharp, cold wind, eachwoman has her kimono sleeve pocket, breast pocket, and lunch box inspected forstolen candies, and Hiroko and her friends complain bitterly of the inspector’s
arrogance.23
In the words of a female union organizer who founded the Women’s Labor Acad­emy in Tokyo in 1929, which offered classes in “proletariat economics” as well as
more typically female pursuits, the chance to learn to sew and to cook was the school’s
great attraction. She wrote that the women “all said they just wanted to do what humanbeings do.”24 Women in the textile mills of Osaka and Tokyo took the lead in seeking
what they viewed as “human treatment.” In addition to protesting wage cuts, they were
especially concerned with changing the restrictive rules of dormitory residence. At
most large companies, especially in the textile industry, women were still required tolive in oppressively managed company-owned dormitories. They were allowed out
only to go to work and for an occasional company-sponsored outing. In major strikes
involving thousands of women in the late 1920s, they won better food and greater
freedom to come and go from their dorms. This was part of a struggle among some
women, which reached a prewar peak at this time, to live what they called “human”
lives. At base, they sought minimal freedom and respect for themselves and theircontributions to their families or to their nation.
Male laborers in factories and mines used a similar language of protest. They too152

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called for improved treatment beﬁtting a human being and a full-ﬂedged member ofthe nation. Reﬂecting deeply rooted assumptions about proper gender roles, theirworking lives followed different patterns from those of women. For this reason, theydeﬁned “human” treatment in different ways and used different methods to seek it.
In the late nineteenth century, textiles dominated the industrial economy, andwomen outnumbered men in the industrial labor force. Over the next several decades,
growth in heavy industries that hired primarily men—shipbuilding, iron and steel,machine engineering, and metalwork—outpaced that in light industries. In 1933 thenumber of male industrial workers nationwide reached about 968,000, just a shade
more than the female wage labor force of 933,000.25
While close to 50 percent of female workers were teenagers in the 1910s and1920s, more than 80 percent of male workers were adults over age twenty. Both men
and women quit their jobs frequently, but the patterns of mobility differed. A typicalfemale factory hand might change jobs once or twice and then exit the labor force
for marriage. Male workers tended to move around as part of a strategy to advanceover the long term in the working world.
Many aspired to eventual independence. An anonymous machinist in 1898 left acomment that remained the motto of the so-called travelers of the early twentiethcentury: “A worker is someone who enters society with his skills and who travels far
and wide . . . ﬁnally becoming a worker deserving of the name.26 Uchida Tōshichi was
one man who exempliﬁed this spirit over the following decades. At the age of twenty
he began working at the huge naval arsenal in Tokyo in 1908, but he believed that inorder to rise in the world he needed to polish his skills. He took a second evening
job in a small metal-casting shop. After two years he could turn out hibachi grills on
his own. He stayed at the arsenal, but “I felt that this hibachi work was a guarantee
for the future, and I kept at it, all the while buying as many of the necessary tools as
I could.” Eventually, in 1939, age ﬁfty-one, Uchida opened his own metalworking
factory.27 For men in Japanese factories, this was a common career path, and an evenmore common aspiration.
The simple act of quitting one job for another was one form of protest against
unacceptable conditions. In addition, in the years during and after World War I, manyof these same men protested by joining unions and organizing strikes for higher pay
or better treatment. Uchida Tōshichi was one of them. He joined Suzuki Bunji’s
Friendly Society (Yūaikai) in 1913, just months after its founding. As he later recalled:
I was psychologically on the verge of exploding. The arsenal was rigidly stratiﬁed.
. . . Pay raises were given twice a year, but bribes had great inﬂuence, and since I
believed in a world where one depended on one’s skill and was rewarded for one’s
efforts, I was truly discontented.28

By 1919, the Friendly Society boasted a seven-year history and thirty thousand
members.29 It adopted a new name, the Greater Japan Federation of Labor (Dai Nihon
Rōdō Sōdōmei), and a newly militant strategy. The group ofﬁcially declared itself alabor union that would consider strike actions to win its demands. That year witnessed
the largest number of organized labor disputes in Japan’s history, 497 strikes andanother 1,891 disputes settled short of a strike. Together these actions involved
335,000 working people, the great majority of whom were men.30

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Over the next decade, many other unions formed as well. Some supported revo­
lutionary politics and on occasion built ties to the ﬂedgling Japan Communist Party.
Others, including the Japan Federation of Labor, sought to raise the status of working
people within the capitalist system. Strikes remained frequent throughout the decade,and they gradually spread to smaller workshops as well as large factories. At theirprewar peak in 1931, labor unions enrolled roughly 8 percent of the industrial workforce (369,000 members).31
At ﬁrst glance, this is a modest proportion. But one must keep several points inmind while judging its signiﬁcance. Unions had no legal protection. This meant thatjoining a union was a very risky decision. A worker ﬁred for union activity had nolegal recourse. In addition, because turnover among members was high and many
strikes took place even in the absence of unions, the number of men and women who
gained some experience of unions or strikes was far higher than the ofﬁcial member­ship at any one moment. Rates of union membership in most nations with similar
legal contexts at similar stages of industrialization were comparable.32
Corporate owners and managers in the 1920s came to view the high mobility ofskilled workers as a major cost. They were also alarmed at the spread of organizing
and strikes. They responded with policies to both combat unions and retain valuable
skilled men. Looking to Western models, they set up in-house “factory councils” asforums for the exchange of views, which might drain support away from independent
unions. They began to offer in-house training programs for favored male workers.
They made nonbinding promises of long-term job security to these trainees. They alsobegan setting up health clinics and savings plans (sometimes these were compulsory
savings programs). They started to offer bonuses and pay raises every six months ona regular basis to skilled loyal men.
Workers responded in a variety of ways. Facing a weak job market for much of
the 1920s, some abandoned the ideal of the “traveler” and clung to a job at a single
company. To win the favor of bosses, especially in larger factories that offered moregenerous new beneﬁts, these men often turned their backs on unions and supported
factory councils instead. But other workers were less impressed or reticent. They
insisted that bosses match words with deeds. As one historian has noted, they de­manded the “right to benevolence.”33 Even at times of business depression in the 1920s
and early 1930s, some launched strategically dubious strikes to demand that a com­pany honor its promise of paternal care by revoking dismissals. Others went on striketo insist on regular semiannual pay raises for all workers, and not just a favored few.
Much like British workers who laid claim to “the rights of a freeborn Englishman,”these Japanese workers insisted that “we are all equal before the emperor.” They called
for “human treatment” beﬁtting a Japanese subject.
Some employers replied harshly that “while we sympathize with your plight, wecannot take responsibility for your poverty.”34 Others agreed to improve severance pay
or implement a more systematic program of seniority-linked raises. By the end of thedecade, although it was often betrayed in practice, the expectation had begun to takeroot that a good employer offered a long-term job and predictable pay increases toloyal male workers.
Two other social groups on the margins of urban society struggled to make aliving and win some dignity in these years. Beginning around the turn of century,

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small numbers of Koreans migrated to Japan in search of jobs. By 1910, when Japanannexed Korea as a colony, about twenty-ﬁve hundred Koreans lived in Japan, mainly
in Osaka and Tokyo. Migration increased sharply over the next decades. By 1930, theKorean population numbered around 419,000. The immigrants tended to live in run­down slums, taking dangerous and ill-paying jobs such as construction work, coalmining, and menial labor in rubber, glass, and dyed-goods production.
The Koreans, like ethnic immigrants the world over, were greeted with racismand discrimination. The Japanese tended to explain their poverty with stereotyped
assumptions that the immigrants were lazy or stupid. Working-class Japanese who
were themselves struggling to get by were especially resentful of job competition fromthese newcomers. These prejudices boiled over with tragic consequences in the wakeof the 1923 Kantō earthquake. Within hours of the earthquake, rumors began to spread:
Koreans and socialists had started the ﬁres; they had poisoned the wells; they wereplanning rebellion. Encouraged by the authorities, residents throughout the region
organized nearly three thousand vigilante groups. Their stated goal was to keep orderin devastated neighborhoods and protect property from looters as well as rebellious
Koreans or leftists. But some groups turned violent. They forced passers-by to speaka few simple phrases and then murdered those believed to have Korean or Chinese
accents. The press, the police, and the military fueled the hysteria. One paper reported
that “Koreans and socialists are planning a rebellious and treasonous plot. We urge
the citizens to cooperate with the military and police to guard against the Koreans.”
Police and military troops themselves rounded up and murdered several hundred Ko­reans in at least two incidents in Tokyo. No precise death toll can be compiled, but
the massacre took between three thousand and six thousand lives.35
The other important group that reacted with new militance to discrimination were
the former outcastes, now called burakumin. These were the descendants of Edo era
outcaste communities who had been ofﬁcially liberated with the reforms of the 1870s.
About half a million in number, they continued to face both ofﬁcial and unofﬁcial
discrimination. They clustered in urban and rural neighborhoods throughout Japan.
The largest numbers lived in and around Kyoto and Osaka. As in the past, they worked
in occupations associated with the slaughter of cattle and marked as polluted in Bud­dhist thinking: leatherwork, shoemaking, meatpacking, and meatselling.
But in a new departure, they began to organize to improve their lot. Around 1900
young male burakumin founded a number of moderate self-help organizations. They
argued that by seeking education and working hard, burakumin could win acceptanceby the mainstream society. Such efforts bore little fruit. In 1922 a more militant spirit
led to the founding of the Levellers Association (Suiheisha). Members would confrontand denounce those accused of discriminatory practices. They threatened and some­times resorted to violence. The government responded with close surveillance andoccasional crackdowns.

CULTURAL RESPONSES TO SOCIAL CHANGE
Few Japanese were much troubled by the plight of these minorities. Indeed, in a
noteworthy contrast to the economic uncertainty of the era, a new exuberance marked
cultural life not only in the booming 1910s but throughout the 1920s. New products

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and possibilities for consumption sparked dreams of a modern life, whose bywords
were “rationality” “science” and “culture” and whose favored adjectives were “bright”
and “new.” The department store, with its enticing array of consumer goods, emergedin these years as one emblem of the “bright new life.” Under one roof, together withrestaurants and exhibit halls for art or music shows, customers found the ﬁnest do­
mestic and imported products: clothing and cosmetics, footwear, fancy foodstuffs,
furniture, lacquerware and ceramicware, and toys.36 Many department stores were built
at major train terminals by new commuter rail companies that brought people into thecity from the expanding environs of Tokyo or Osaka. These department stores pro­
moted and celebrated a new way to enjoy the fruits of one’s labor, especially forfamilies whose husbands worked in salaried middle-class jobs.37
Such a family might take a commuter train to such a store from its home in a
newly founded “garden city” on the edge of Tokyo. Its dwelling would be called a“cultural home” and typically boast a Western-style sitting room. A family excursion
to the Ginza shopping district on a Sunday would feature window shopping and per­haps the purchase of the latest style in ready-to-wear dress at Mitsui’s pioneering
Mitsukoshi department store. Shoppers would take a break in a coffee shop or beerhall, two other urban innovations of the early twentieth century. They might end the
day by dining in an elegant Western-style restaurant. A new term was coined for thismodern leisure, Gin-bura, loosely translatable as “Ginza cruising.”
The ﬂowering of new terminology for Japanese modern life reﬂects the excitementof the era. An Edo era expression, koshi-ben, was one of the earliest labels for the
emerging middle class. The term literally refers to the lunch-box (bentō) that Edo
samurai would attach to their clothes at the waist (koshi). In the late nineteenth century,
it referred to an ofﬁce worker in Western clothes making his way to work with hislunch-box in hand. A new term, sarariiman (salary-man) then appeared in cartoonsof the 1910s titled “salary-man heaven” and “salary-man hell.” These lampooned the
difﬁcult life of the middle manager, whose workplace pressures and modest salary
undermined the promise of his social status as a modern city-dweller.38 Through the
1920s “salary-man” coexisted with numerous other expressions such as “intellectualclass,” “new middle class,” the more colloquial “brain worker,” and the familiar“lunch-box class.”39 By the end of the decade, this jumble of terms had been sorted
out. Sarariiman became the most common label for a city-dwelling man of the middle
class. He had a middling to higher education, worked for the government or a privatecompany, and owed his job to these credentials.
Department stores, garden city suburbs, and a newly standardized terminology forthe middle class were part of a broader political, social, and cultural ﬂowering of the
1910s and 1920s. Hollywood and Japanese movies began to draw huge audiences tohundreds of theaters nationwide. The record player and jazz music enjoyed huge
popularity as well.
Some of the most interesting new cultural trends concerned women. In the 1910s
and early 1920s, an impassioned debate took place in the pages of magazines andnewspapers over the so-called new woman. Contributors included many women whosoon became prominent as writers of poetry, prose ﬁction, and essays. They addressedserious topics such as women’s education and political roles, their rights in the family
and workplace, and control over their sexuality. But in reporting this debate, the main­I MPER IA L JA P A N FR O M A SC E N D A N CE T O AS HE S

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156

Movie moguls entertain Charlie Chaplin with sushi and sake in Tokyo in May 1932. Chaplin
is on the far right. Next to Chaplin is a famous Tokyo geisha, Ichimaru, holding the daughterof ﬁlm producer Kido Shiro (third from right) in her lap. Chaplin had been a huge star inJapan for years. His visit drew attention, but it was overshadowed by the assassination ofJapan’s prime minister, Inukai Tsuyoshi, which took place during his stay.
Courtesy of Mrs. Kimie Sakomoto.

stream press devoted greatest attention to the private lives of these women, above all
their reportedly scandalous, promiscuous sexual adventures.40
This treatment reﬂected uneasiness at challenges to prevailing ideas about genderroles. Unease continued in the excited discussion, mainly by male writers, of the ﬁgure
identiﬁed as the “modern girl” (modan gaaru, sometimes abbreviated moga). She
embodied the exhilaration of Japanese modern times and captured much popular at­
tention from about 1925 through the early 1930s. The modern girl was said to be157

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something new in Japan. She was a stylish follower of fashion, proud of her new slim
look. One essay praising her liberated behavior ended with the exclamation “Onward!
Dance! Legs! Legs! Legs!” Positive treatments of this ﬁgure praised her for puncturing
the hypocrisy of a world where only men enjoyed economic independence and sexualas well as political freedom. Now, it was said, modern girls might enjoy all three, as
they worked in urban ofﬁces, supported political rights for women, and sought out
male companions.41
The modern girl was celebrated and feared mainly for her new sexuality. The
modern boy was most notorious for a new political radicalism. In 1918, a small groupof students in Tokyo University’s Law Faculty organized the New Man Society (Shin­jinkai). From this base in the citadel of the establishment, they built the most inﬂuential
student political group of the prewar era. Similar groups were founded at many otheruniversities as well. The student movement began with relatively moderate calls for
democratic reforms. By the mid-1920s, the New Man Society had moved to a MarxistLeninist stand that sought economic and social equality and a political revolution.42
With a slogan of “To the People,” inspired by the Russian Revolution, members joined
organizing movements of wage laborers and tenant farmers.
Inseparable from the new enthusiasm for middle classes, cultural homes and de-

Stylish “modern girls” striding briskly along the streets of Tokyo in 1930. These women, andtheir ﬂamboyant images in cartoons, literature, and photographs, exempliﬁed a spirit of sex­
ual liberation that was threatening to some, exhilarating to others.
Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

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I MPER IA L JA P A N FR O M A SC E N D A N CE T O AS HE S

partment stores, movies and jazz, and modern girls and Marxist boys was a newanxiety. The other side of the glittering coin of modern life was a gloomy discourseof impoverishment, struggle, and social disorder. As the middle class expanded in the
1900s and 1910s, so did the number of schools offering promise of entry. Even an
educated person’s access to this world was not secure. Ofﬁce workers were laid offen masse during periodic economic slumps. Even in good times such as the economic
boom sparked by World War I, a new urgency marked discussions of middle-classlife. Newspapers published laments such as this one, a 1918 letter to the editor by anelementary schoolteacher supporting a family of ﬁve. After listing monthly expenses
that totaled 20.75 yen, the author asserts:

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[M]y monthly income after deductions . . . is 18 yen and change. Even 20 yen are notenough. How can we live on 18? There’s no choice but to cut our rice costs a little
by mixing in barley, more than 50 percent, and once a day making a meal of barleyrice gruel. Because charcoal is expensive, no one in the family has taken a bath forover a month, and we can hardly afford a cup of sake, or a few pieces of meat, oreven a single potato. To buy a new kimono is out of the question. Is there anythingso pitiful as the life of an elementary school teacher who cannot afford to dress hischild in a New Year kimono or even eat mochi?43

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Such a struggling schoolteacher would have been called “a Western-clothes pau­per” (yōfuku saimin). This ironic and self-contradictory term came into widespreaduse in the early 1900s. Those who wore Western clothes (yōfuku) were supposed to
be secure, educated members of the upper stratum of the new Japan. The slums of
the urban paupers were supposed to be worlds removed. The expression signaled thateven those with credentials to join middle-class society faced lives of uncertainty andinsufﬁcient earnings.44 No less a ﬁgure than the Seiyūkai party president, Hara Kei,recorded a lament of his own in 1910 that “if people like teachers and policemen takeeven one false step, they might become socialists, so there is need to pay most attention
to their treatment.”45
Even more worrisome sources of potential unrest and radicalism were the increas­
ingly militant organized factory workers. In the words of one leading bureaucrat in1925, the state should not support unions because “just as a cart cannot stop rolling
down a hill,” a union would never stop at a moderate position.46 A policeman sat on
the side of the stage at every labor gathering. If a speaker crossed the boundaries ofauthorized discourse—by uttering words such as “revolution” or “capitalism” or “destroy”—he would ﬁrst be warned and then halted, and perhaps arrested. These contests
between police and speakers added some entertainment value to union rallies, but they
imposed serious restrictions as well.
Youth in general, and young women in particular, were another lightning rod forthe fears of modernity run rampant. Even as some celebrated the jaunty ﬁgure of themodern girl, others worried that she signaled the onset of far-reaching social decay.
They feared that liberated women, perhaps even more than angry schoolteachers or
militant laborers, might upset the established order of society and weaken the Japanesestate. Anxious press reports described modern girls and boys as part of a communist
conspiracy to weaken the nation by turning privileged youths into degenerate hedon­ists. They worried that the rise of divorces initiated by women would destroy thefamily system. In 1925 the press described a short-haired, Western-dressed woman

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accused of murdering a foreigner as a “vanguard moga.”47 Such labeling suggested
that the modern girl, in particular, was un-Japanese and even criminal.
A surge of interest in so-called new religions is a further cultural manifestationof the strivings and fears of Japanese people in the early decades of the twentiethcentury. These religions tended to be offshoots of mainstream Shinto sects more than
Buddhist groups. They were founded by charismatic men or women who typicallypresented themselves to believers as living gods. Some of them were brand new, others
had been founded in the nineteenth century. At their peak in the mid-1930s, these“new religions” claimed several million adherents. They drew most support from peo­
ple in cities and more commercialized or industrialized rural locales. Many believers
were recent migrants to towns and cities who sought a new source of community andspiritual support. More than mainstream Buddhist sects or state-supported Shinto,
these groups offered practical and concrete help. They promised to heal illness andhelp members overcome economic troubles and other personal problems. Records leftby converts testify that these religions solved problems ranging from marital disputes
to bedwetting.48
New religions might have offered spiritual and material support to members, but
state ofﬁcials viewed them as threats. Ofﬁcials in the Home Ministry, the same bodycharged to oversee labor and other social problems, labeled them “pseudo-religions”
or “evil cults.” In the 1920s they suppressed several of these groups by arresting theirleaders. They charged and convicted some of the serious crime of lèse-majesté (slan­dering the emperor).49 But the religions themselves were not dissolved. They continued
to thrive into the 1930s.
All these debates over the direction of social change and the character of modern
Japanese life took place in burgeoning mass media. Magazines proliferated and cir­
culation grew dramatically. The greatest of these was Kodansha’s Kingu magazine.
Based on the Saturday Evening Post, Kingu premiered in December 1924, selling
740,000 copies.50 By November 1928, circulation had grown to 1.5 million. Magazines
speciﬁcally aimed at women readers proved as popular as the general (male-oriented)
publications. The start of radio broadcasting in 1925 gradually spread new culturalforms, jazz and dramas—as well as ofﬁcial government messages—to wider audiences
throughout Japan. Between 1926 and 1930, the number of radios in Japan rose from
360,000 to 1.4 million.51
Works of literature, often serialized in magazines and newspapers, enjoyed grow­ing audiences. Strongly inﬂuenced by Western literature since the Meiji period, Jap­
anese authors had experimented with various schools of writing, including romanti­
cism and naturalism. By the 1920s, most writers had moved beyond these schools to
explore different styles. The predominant style of the time was the “I-novel,” which
tended to be a nearly autobiographical, confessional work that attempted to re-create
the psyche of the author. Two new movements, however, moved away from this sortof ﬁction: the New Sensationalist school, which was the ﬁrst clearly modernist writingin Japan, and the Proletarian school, which stressed the social role of writers.
The writers from this period whose work has proved most enduring, however,were not strict adherents to any school. Akutagawa Ryūnosuke (1892–1927) wrote
powerful and sometimes fantastic works. He often turned to classical Japanese liter­
ature, rather than the latest European trends, for inspiration. “In a Grove,” his refash­

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ioning of a twelfth-century story, became the basis for the famous ﬁlm Rashōmon.
Tanizaki Jun’ichirō (1886–1965) explored human sexuality unabashedly, while simul­
taneously undermining the narrative reliability that I-novels demanded.
The growing popularity of literature, both Japanese and translated works, wasreﬂected in the spread of “one yen books,” which ushered in the mass production ofliterature in Japan. In 1926 the publishing company Kaizōsha began publishing its
sixty-three-volume series, Collected Works of Contemporary Japanese Literature.
Overnight, writers whose works were included in these collections became wealthy.
The profession of writing became more commercial as the rewards available to a
successful writer grew tremendously. The series also made literature a cultural com­modity available to a much larger segment of the Japanese population, including thediverse middle class, new and old.

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Few of the social divisions and cultural trends of the early twentieth century werebrand new. The Tokugawa era countryside had been ﬁlled with rich and poor farmers
and many between. Tokugawa cities housed samurai clerks and constables, as well as
commoner tradesmen, storekeepers, and back-alley manufacturers. Literature and thearts had ﬂourished, and commercial publishing had appeared. Country folk and citydwellers of the modern 1910s and 1920s sometimes made sense of their world withthe language of this past. Footloose factory laborers described themselves with the
Edo era term for “traveling artisans.” Ofﬁce clerks were rendered as Edo era koshiben.
But some things were new. In Japan as elsewhere, modern times differed frompast eras. Both the economic opportunities and insecurities of life in a capitalist society
were greater than in Tokugawa days. The market was less buffered than before by the“benevolence” of the state or local elites. Nearly universal literacy was achieved by
the turn of the century. More people than ever could take some part in a larger public
life and identify with a larger national and global community of imperialist powers.
Expanded access to the modern media divided as well as united. Hand-wringing ac­
counts of “modern girls” or Marxist students and chronic reports of labor or farmer
protests raised awareness of tensions within the nation. Some of these social andcultural clashes reﬂected anxiety at the loss of an older community and a desire to
recover it.52 Farmers and workers pushed those with wealth and power to continue
customary forms of benevolent care. But they had begun to claim benevolence as a“right.” They were using a new, modern language of politics and culture. They werearguing less about sustaining old traditions than about deﬁning new ones.

10
Democracy and Empire between theWorld Wars

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The Taishō emperor, Yoshihito, took the throne in 1912 upon the death of his father,
the Meiji emperor, at the age of thirty-three. He had suffered a childhood bout withmeningitis. Although he recovered well enough to make numerous ofﬁcial tours
around the country as Crown Prince, his health began to fail in 1918. By 1919 he
was unable to perform his ofﬁcial duties. This was a time when European monarchs
were falling from power one after another: the Russian czar in 1917 and the kingsand emperors of Germany, Austria, and Turkey as well. This was also a time ofpolitical turbulence in Japan. Fearful palace ofﬁcials felt a desperate need for a pre­sentable imperial ﬁgure. They arranged, in essence, a forced retirement for Yoshihito.
They elevated his son, the Crown Prince Hirohito, to the ofﬁce of regent in 1921, andthe Crown Prince presided at imperial functions in his father’s place until the Taishōemperor died in 1926.
The era of rule by the Taishō emperor was thus briefer than the preceding Meiji
reign, and the manner of Yoshihito’s retirement spread a belief that the Taishō emperor
had always been sickly and mentally disturbed. The brilliant intellectual historianMaruyama Masao recalled that he and his elementary schoolmates in 1921 would
whisper about rumors of strange behavior. The emperor, it was said, had once rolled
up the text of his proclamation to open a session of the Diet, and used it like atelescope to peer at the assembled dignitaries.1 True or not, this story and the imageof Taishō as a feeble monarch has persisted.
Despite these facts, his name has ironically come to refer to a spirit of liberalism
associated with his reign. Historians conventionally speak of the years from 1905
through 1932 as the time of “Taishō democracy.” The period begins with the politicalagitation of 1905 protesting the treaty that ended the Russo-Japanese War and ends
with the fall of the Seiyūkai party cabinet in 1932. This era can also be describedwith a term that appears contradictory at ﬁrst glance: “imperial democracy.” Politicalrule by elected politicians who formed cabinets run by party members began to takehold in the Taishō era. This was a dramatic change in the direction of democracy. But
one ﬁnds continuity as well in the fact that all prominent advocates of parliamentary
rule, like the Meiji era oligarchs and their supporters in the military and the bureauc­racy, were vociferous imperial loyalists. They were equally vociferous in their support
for empire. In prewar Japan as in Britain or Holland, supporters of a more democratic
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political order believed that loyalty to a monarch, pursuit of empire, and popularparticipation in politics were mutually compatible, indeed reinforcing. Only in retro­
spect, and judged by the standards of a later age, do these goals appear contradictory.

THE EMERGENCE OF PARTY CABINETS

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After the tumult of the Taishō political crisis of 1913 described in Chapter 8, Admiral
Yamamoto Gonnohyōe ruled as prime minister in alliance with the Seiyūkai party forjust one year. A major scandal forced him from ofﬁce in early 1914. Top navy brass
had taken kickbacks from Germany’s Siemens corporation and bought German arms
in exchange. In a replay of the upheavals one year before, rallies and riots greeted
this revelation. One excited streetcorner orator got himself in trouble when he shouted
to group assembled in the city center, “Yamamoto is a great thief! Overthrow Yama­
momoto! We must sever Gonnohyōe’s head from his body.” This middle-aged tailor
was a former popular rights activist. He was arrested and charged with incitement toriot, and he explained his motives to the judge this way: “Because it was the will of
the people, I had no choice.”2
The force of such popular indictments was powerful. Yamamoto resigned in dis­grace over the scandal. From 1914 to 1916, the former government leader and popular¯
Shigenobu made a political comeback. He served as prime
rights activist Okuma
minister with support from the recently formed Dōshikai party. But party men them­¯
policies deferred to the long-standing
selves only held ﬁve cabinet posts, and Okuma’s
agenda of military men, especially Yamagata Aritomo and Katsura Tarō. They ﬁnally
won funding for two new divisions, the very request that had sparked the Taishō¯
then came under attack from the oligarchs in 1916–17 for his
political crisis. Okuma
handling of foreign policy, epitomized in the Twenty-One Demands addressed toChina (discussed later). A Chōshū general, Terauchi Masatake, replaced him as prime
minister. Terauchi’s cabinet was nominally nonpartisan, but it actually worked closelywith Hara Kei and the Seiyūkai.
In this fashion, between 1913 and 1918 the leaders of these two parties continued
their political strategy of the previous decade, by which Diet representatives sought
power through negotiations, compromise, and alliance with bureaucrats and militarymen. They were backed by considerable popular enthusiasm for parliamentary rule,
which many observers now saw as the essence of constitutional government.
In 1918 Yamagata Aritomo was ﬁrst among equals in the tiny clique of elder
statesmen who made key political decisions in the emperor’s name, including thedesignation of each prime minister. That summer, at the peak of the wartime inﬂation,
the price of rice had doubled from the previous year. A wave of violent attacks onrice merchants and the government broke out nationwide. Yamagata was an austere
man not given to displays of emotion or fear. But he was terribly upset by the riots.
He decided he had to turn to the career party leader, Hara Kei, as the only man who
could calm the situation.
In September 1918, Hara formed a cabinet composed almost entirely of party
members (the exceptions were the army, navy, and foreign ministers). This was theﬁrst stable and effective party government in Japan’s history. The Seiyūkai remainedDemocracy and Empire between the World Wars

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in power for nearly four years. When Hara acted swiftly and harshly to put down asteel strike with government troops in 1920, even Yamagata put his lifelong distaste
for politicians aside and exclaimed: “Hara is truly remarkable! The streetcars and steel
mills have settled down. Hara’s policies are remarkable.”3 Hara himself fell victim toan assassin in November 1921, but the oligarchs agreed to install his ﬁnance minister,
Takahashi Korekiyo, as the new Prime Minister, and Seiyūkai rule continued anothersix months.
The rise to power of Hara and his Seiyūkai party completed a two-decade process,marked by crisis and riot as well as backroom maneuvering, which now placed po­
litical parties and their elected representatives at the center and near the top of thepolitical system. But it is important to note that the practice of selecting party leaders
to form cabinets was still not ﬁrmly established. Takahashi proved unable to containfactional struggles within his party, and in 1922 he resigned as prime minister. Ya­
magata had just died. Over the following two years, the three surviving oligarchs
returned to the practice of selecting nonparty prime ministers. In quick succession,
they named two navy men and the president of the Privy Council to form suprapartisan, so-called transcendental cabinets with relatively weak ties to political parties.
Katō Tomosaburō, who died in 1923, was followed by former Prime Minister Ya­
mamoto Gonnohyōe, and then Kiyoura Keigo. Kiyoura ﬁlled his cabinet almost en­
tirely with members of the House of Peers rather than the House of Representatives.
This challenge led most party leaders to put aside their factional bickering after
a fashion, although one group of politicians split off from the Seiyūkai to form a third
party that supported Kiyoura’s actions. In 1924 the mainstream of the Seiyūkai joined
the Kenseikai and another small party called the Reform Club to launch a series ofrallies that called for a return to “normal constitutional government” (the Kenseikai
had been formed in 1916 in a reorganization of the Dōshikai party). These parties
together backed their campaign for “constitutional government” by threatening to re­fuse cooperation with a cabinet not comprised of elected parliamentarians.
The press and the public were not as enthusiastic in support of this drive for party
rule as it had been in the ’teens, especially during the Taishō political crisis. Even so,
the three parties calling for “constitutional government” won a ﬁrm majority in theDiet election of 1924. The Kenseikai party won a plurality of seats for the ﬁrst time
ever. As a result, Kiyoura stepped down, and in June 1924 a three-party coalition
cabinet took ofﬁce. The prime minister was Katō Kōmei, president of the Kenseikai
party. His party dominated the coalition. Katō had impeccable elite credentials. He
had brieﬂy served in the Foreign Ministry after graduating from Tokyo Imperial Uni­
versity. His wife was the eldest daughter of Iwasaki Yatarō, the founder of the Mitsu­
bishi zaibatsu. He had spent time in England as a youth and had come to see parlia­
mentary government as the way to secure Japan’s future power and stability.
The partners to this coalition were the Seiyūkai and Kenseikai (Constitutional
Politics Association) and the Reform Club. In 1927 the Kenseikai absorbed some
defectors from the Seiyūkai and changed its name to Minseitō (People’s Politics Party).
As the name suggests, by the mid-1920s the Kenseikai/Minseitō party had staked out
a political position slightly to the liberal side of the Seiyūkai. It supported measures
such as expanded suffrage as the best way to ensure social order. In 1925 a factional

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His

TABLE 10.1 Party Cabinets, 1918–32

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conﬂict broke up this brief coalition government, and Katō continued in ofﬁce byforming a solely Kenseikai cabinet. Party cabinets then alternated in regular succession
until 1932.
The ascendance of party government was remarkable. The elitist authors of the
Meiji constitution had certainly not expected it. They had intended for the Diet toplay a limited role on the sidelines of politics when they wrote that document in thelate 1880s. Just thirty years later, in 1918, elected Diet politicians had moved fromoutsiders seeking to gain a share of power to insiders exercising executive power in
consultation with bureaucrats. This unexpected outcome was a result of nation-building
policies of the nineteenth century. The Meiji reforms had promoted a widespread belief
that common people were members of the nation whose will should be respected.
Such beliefs sparked men like the tailor who literally called for Prime Minister Yamamoto’s head to speak on behalf of “the people’s will.” During the ’teens in partic­
ular, masses of Japanese people enthusiastically demanded “constitutional govern­
ment.” By this, they meant rule by a prime minister and cabinets comprised of elected
parliamentary representatives.
By the mid-1920s, this demand was met. But considerable irony and uncertainty
marked this political evolution. As the parties came to power, they compromised andPrime Minister

1918–21

Hara Kei (Takashi)(9/29/18–11/13/21)
Takahashi Korekiyo(11/13/21–6/12/22)
Katō Tomosaburô(6/12/22–9/2/23)

1923–24
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Year

Yamamoto Gonnohyōe(9/2/23–1/7/24)

Party in Power
Seiyūkai
Seiyūkai
Transcendental (nonparty) cabinet: Katō
formed a cabinet composed mainly of
bureaucrats and members of the Houseof Peers
Transcendental cabinet

Kiyoura Keigo(1/7/24–6/11/24)
Katō Kōmei (Takaaki)(6/11/24–1/30/26)
Wakatsuki Reijirō
(1/30/26–4/20/27)
Tanaka Giichi(4/20/27–7/2/29)
Hamaguchi Osachi(7/2/29–4/14/31)

Transcendental cabinet

1931

Wakatsuki Reijirō
(4/14/31–12/13/31)

Minseitō

1931–32

Inukai Tsuyoshi(12/13/31–5/26/32)

Seiyūkai

1924–26
1926–27
1927–29
1929–31

Three-party coalition cabinet (Kenseikai,
Seiyūkai, Reform Club)
Kenseikai
Seiyūkai
MinseitōDemocracy and Empire between the World Wars

165

cooperated with nonparty elites. Some idealistic politicians, many in the press and inuniversities, and many in the general population criticized the parties for betraying
the people as they rose to power.

THE STRUCTURE OF PARLIAMENTARY GOVERNMENT

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The political structure put in place by the Meiji constitution virtually assured thatparliamentary government would be a hybrid product of willing compromise between
party leaders and nonparty elites. First and foremost, the constitution enshrined theemperor as both sacred and sovereign. The emperor’s precious body was literally
untouchable—his aides and physicians used gloves whenever they came in contact
with him.4 The Meiji emperor (Mutsuhito), his son the Taishō emperor, and his grand­son, Hirohito, all believed they had active roles to play as a monarch at the apex of
the constitutional order. As Crown Prince, Hirohito had served an apprenticeship asde facto monarch, serving as imperial regent during the years of his father’s illness
from 1921 to 1926. After the Taishō emperor’s death, he took ofﬁce immediately,
although the grand enthronement ceremony was held in 1928.
Emperor Hirohito’s reign was given the era name of Shōwa. This reign name canbe translated as Shining Peace, certainly ironic in retrospect since Hirohito was toreign through war as well as peace until his death in 1989. His carefully monitored
education, undertaken in the awareness that he might ascend to the throne as a very
young man, made him well aware of his duties as monarch under Japan’s imperiallycentered constitution.5 Following British practice, he was briefed regularly by his
ministers throughout his life. He believed that the monarch had a responsibility toindicate his views to these ministers. His opinions could have major political conse­
quences. In 1927–28, for example, Hirohito became upset with Prime Minister Tanaka’s handling of several instances of Japanese military intervention in China. He
personally reprimanded Tanaka, an act that forced the prime minister to resign his
post.6Another structural feature related to the emperor’s powers was the fact that neither
the military nor the bureaucracy bore any formal accountability to the parliament. The
constitution set forth the emperor’s direct right to supreme command of the military.
Military leaders could take this clause as a license to act independently of the prime
minister. Bureaucrats were also insulated from the parliament in an important formal
sense. Although the laws they wrote and the budgets they designed had to be ratiﬁedby the Diet, they did not owe their jobs to the parliament. They served as appointeesof the emperor.
Two other formal bodies bolstered the power of the imperial state in relation to
the parliament and popular forces. The Privy Council was a body of fourteen memberswith extraordinary legal powers. It had been established in 1889 by imperial order as
the group that would formally approve the Meiji constitution. It continued in existence
under the new national charter. It met in secret session, sometimes with the emperor
present, to advise the emperor on matters such as interpreting the constitution or otherlaws, analyzing the budget, or ratifying international treaties. Its very conservative
members were appointed for life by the emperor and included former oligarchs such
as Itō Hirobumi, Kuroda Kiyotaka, and Yamagata Aritomo. In the 1920s, in particular,

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the council often found itself at odds with decisions of party cabinets and successfully
rejected some government decisions. In similar fashion, the House of Peers served asa bastion of emperor-centered authoritarian politics. Membership was either hereditaryor derived from imperial appointment. On several occasions, the Peers proved able
and anxious to obstruct major initiatives of party governments.
One key informal piece of the political structure of the era from the 1890s throughWorld War II was that group of men called the oligarchs or elder statesmen (genrō).
Like the Peers and the Privy Council (and overlapping in members with both), theoligarchs helped to ensure that party rulers did not contradict the wishes of nonparty
elites. Their most important responsibility, which evolved by custom and not law fromthe 1890s onward, was to advise the emperor (and in essence decide) on the choiceof prime minister. By 1918 the original group of seven Meiji oligarchs had dwindled
to Yamagata Aritomo and Matsukata Masayoshi. They added two more men to theirinformal club: Saionji Kimmochi, the former prime minister of noble pedigree, andMakino Nobuaki, a veteran cabinet minister and diplomat with close ties to the im­perial court. The ﬁnal oligarch (Saionji Kimmochi) withdrew from an active politicalrole in the early 1930s because of old age (he was eighty-one in 1930) and theincreasing inﬂuence of the military. A group known as “senior statesmen” (jūshin)came to replace the oligarchs. Membership was routinized by custom to include allliving former prime ministers.
Although the oligarchs and their successors regularly appointed party leaders as
prime minister between 1924 and 1932, they did not necessarily appoint the head ofthe majority party. In fact, the oligarchs asked the leader of the Diet’s largest party toform a new government on just two occasions. In 1918 the Seiyūkai already held amajority when Yamagata turned to its president, Hara Kei, to form a cabinet. In 1924
after the Kenseikai won a plurality at the polls, Prince Saionji tapped its president,
Katō Kōmei, to form a coalition party government. But during the next eight yearsof uninterrupted party rule, power shifted between the Kenseikai/Minseitō and the
Seiyūkai in the reverse fashion. On three occasions (1927, 1929, 1931) the seniorstatesmen led by Saionji appointed the leader of the minority opposition party as prime
minister because of a perceived failure of the incumbent majority party. Each time,
the new prime minister then called an election, and his party won a majority in theHouse of Representatives. He was helped by his control of the Home Ministry, theagency that ran the police and supervised elections. Japan’s voters in this way ratiﬁedchanges of government after the fact, but did not bring them about.
Another informal factor that compromised parliamentary government was the un­
dercurrent of political terror that periodically erupted to the surface. One American
journalist called this “government by assassination.”7 Its peak was to come in the
1930s. But even in the 1920s, Prime Minister Hara Kei was assassinated, and a failed
attempt on the life of Hirohito himself took place in 1923 when he was Prince Regent.
Hara’s nineteen-year-old assassin acted out of anger at several political scandals in­volving Hara and his party. He claimed that Hara’s cabinet ignored the good of thepeople while seeking only the party’s well-being. Hirohito’s attacker was a leftist
seeking to avenge the 1911 execution of socialist Kōtoku Shusui. Such attacks intim­
idated future party leaders, and public opinion often praised the purity of the attacker’s

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motives, which contrasted to the unseemly deal-making of party leaders. Politicalviolence thus undermined the legitimacy of parliamentary rule.

IDEOLOGICAL CHALLENGES

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Such acts grew in part from a political tradition in which righteous men hoping tospark revolutionary change would take violent steps to impose their vision of divine
justice. This had been the ethos of the swashbuckling loyalists of the late Tokugawa
years. In later decades such visions of change sparked by political violence were
promoted by various secretive political groups such as the Black River Society,founded in 1901 by an extreme imperial loyalist named Uchida Ryōhei. For four
decades Uchida pushed for expansion on the mainland and reform at home to bolster
patriarchy and the glory of imperial rule. He attacked both the weakness of the oli­garchs and the democratic ideas of party leaders and liberals.
Kita Ikki was probably the most inﬂuential intellectual to promote a radical na­
tionalist vision that would later inspire political terror. In 1923 he articulated his stancein An Outline Plan for the Reorganization of Japan. He shared the imperial loyalismof Uchida, while supporting the goal of economic leveling of the political left. He
called on a vanguard of young military ofﬁcers and civilians to seize power, suspend
the constitution, and remake the political structure to unite the emperor and the people.
He expected these leaders to reorder the economy as well. They would respect private
property but redistribute wealth and manage growth through a set of “production
ministries.” Kita would have returned land to tenant farmers and shared proﬁt withfactory workers, but he insisted that women remain “mothers and wives of the people.”In the 1920s dozens of organizations sprung up devoted in some measure to Kita’s
program of emperor-centered, anti-party reform at home and expansion abroad.
Even more threatening in the eyes of both party rulers and nonparty elites werethe varied, energetic left-wing movements that mushroomed from the time of theRussian Revolution through the early 1930s. Socialism, feminism, and labor protests
had emerged to trouble Japan’s rulers as early as the turn of the century (as describedin Chapter 8). But the combination of the deepening reach of capitalism, the spreadof education and political idealism, and in particular the rise to power of the com­munist regime in the Russian Revolution of 1917 inspired Japanese critics of inequality
and poverty in their own society to undertake more forceful and widespread activities.
They were moved by similar grievances and divided by similar tactical and ideological¯
Sakae, had begun theirarguments as leftists the world over. Some, such as Osugi
activism in the socialist movement of the early 1900s. He survived the treason incident
that led to the execution of several colleagues in 1911 because he was already in jail.
¯
had become a leading advocate of anarchism. He called
By the early 1920s, Osugi
for a freer, more egalitarian society to be brought about by direct actions such as
strikes and attacks on the authorities.
Other activists of a new generation, such as Yamakawa Hitoshi and Arahata Kanson, envisioned a communist revolution that would be led by a vanguard party, fol­lowing the example of the Russian Bolsheviks. They joined to found the Japan Com­munist Party (JCP) in 1922, with support from the Soviet Union’s international

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arm, the Comintern. Yamakawa called for organizing of the masses through a united
front with the noncommunist left. Rivals such as Fukumoto Kazuo stressed a moresectarian approach by which the JCP would act alone or work secretly through front
organizations. The party was never legal before 1945, so a reliable count of members
is not possible, but adherents perhaps numbered in the low thousands by the late
1920s.
The university graduates who dominated these small groups began to build
bridges to labor unions in the 1920s and cultivate a larger base of support. Japan’sﬁrst May Day celebration took place in 1920, replete with red ﬂags and banners calling
for the liberation of the working class. In the following years, it was common for
thousands to attend union rallies during strikes or on May Day. Speakers not only
demanded pay raises and better conditions but also quoted Lenin. They ﬂamboyantly
claimed “the labor movement must move to end the plunder of capitalists” and “de­stroy entirely the existing social order.”8 The police, who sat on the edge of the stage
at every political meeting in prewar Japan, regularly halted speeches or broke up
meetings when they heard such statements.
A new wave of feminist ideas was at least as threatening to the ruling elites of
the 1910s and 1920s. In the feminist writing of this era, women in Japan were typ-Speaker arrested at 1926 May Day rally. These annual celebrations of the labor movement
were closely monitored by authorities. Those in attendance understood they were engaged ina risky activity on the margins of the law.
Courtesy of Ohara Institute of Social Research.

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ically described as “caged birds” or “fragile ﬂowers.” How, then, to open the cage orprotect the ﬂower? Some feminists, such as Hiratsuka Raichō and Takamure Itsue,
developed a line of thinking that has been called “woman-centered feminism.” They
continued the arguments of earlier women’s advocates in calling for special protection
for women because of their special role as mothers. Takamure was a particularly
independent voice. She called for local institutions to provide community care formothers. She condemned the institution of marriage as disastrous for women. She wasquite distinctive in looking back to the ancient Japanese past as a time of a womancentered society of respect and support for motherhood. Other feminists, such as thepoet and essayist Yosano Akiko, called for women’s liberation not only as mothers,
and not solely as Japanese, but as human beings in a larger world. Yamakawa Kikue
took the debate a step further by linking feminism with a call for socialism. She argued
that working-class women suffered dual oppressions of gender and class. They
therefore had to organize against both patriarchal authority and the exploitation of
employers to bring about a “revolution in the economic system that brought about
women’s problems.”9 As in so many other areas of social thought, the divide in Japanbetween “woman-centered” and “humanist” versions of feminism was very similar to,
and was informed by, similar debates in the West during the nineteenth and twentiethcenturies.
Even those who accepted the modern capitalist order and initially welcomed par­liamentary rule could be harsh critics of the reality of party government. The leading
intellectual advocate of parliamentary liberalism was Yoshino Sakuzō, a Christian andprofessor of law at Tokyo Imperial University. In 1916 he published a famous essaythat put forward his vision of a properly Japanese style of constitutional government.
Yoshino held that the goal of the government should be to protect the welfare of thenation’s people. Elections, and cabinets responsible to the parliament, would be thebest guarantees of such a result. Such a political system would be “rooted in
the people” (minponshugi), but it would simultaneously respect the emperor’s sover­eignty. But when Yoshino looked around him in the mid to late 1920s, he decided
that the major political parties had been captured by selﬁsh private “connections ofinterest,” such as the zaibatsu. They had become morally decadent bodies, in his view,who did not properly serve the people.10

STRATEGIES OF IMPERIAL DEMOCRATIC RULE
Parliamentary government in prewar Japan was thus constrained by formal and infor­
mal institutions. It faced ideological challenge and organized attacks from emperorcentered radicals on the right and a wide range of activists on the left. By the late
1920s it commanded only tepid support from “natural” allies such as the press andmany intellectuals. How, then, did political parties manage to share power and form
cabinets from 1918 through the early 1930s to the extent that they did?
Parties joined the ruling elite in part because their leaders were extremely practicalpoliticians who had come to see bureaucrats and military men more as allies than as
opponents. In social terms, the party leaders were little different from elites in thebureaucracy and military. They included wealthly landlords and business leaders, someretired bureaucrats who sought a continued public role in politics, and some urban

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professionals such as lawyers and publishers or journalists. These men attended thesame elite higher schools and imperial universities. Their families came from similar
privileged economic backgrounds. They belonged to a handful of exclusive golf clubs
founded in the early years of the twentieth century. Their children married each other.
Party rule had a practical economic foundation as well. It delivered important
goods to signiﬁcant numbers of people. When party cabinet ministers controlled public
works or education budgets, small town mayors or business leaders or school prin­cipals had good reason to support the party in power. In exchange for delivering votes,
or pledging to do so, they might see railway lines directed through their cities, harbors
dredged in their ports, or schools built in their towns and villages. The promise ofsuch favors, which were called “pork-barrel” beneﬁts in the American political worldof this era, was alluring in Japan as well. It was a key factor allowing the minority
party, once in power, to consistently win the next election. On the other hand, press
reports of such dealings, as well as outright vote-buying, turned more idealistic votersagainst the parties and undermined their legitimacy.
Parliamentary rule was also sustained from the 1910s through the early 1930s byshared political attitudes among party and nonparty elites. Few party leaders saw
democracy as an end in itself. They considered it rather a means to ensure the positionof emperor and empire, national power, and social order. To the extent that rulers anda wider public believed that party rule was achieving these goals, it gained legitimacy.
Party men, bureaucrats, and the mainstream of the military agreed on a basic
politics of divide and rule. On one hand, voting rights would be extended, and menof substance and status would represent the will of the people in parliament. In thewords of a leading Seiyūkai parliamentarian, politics in this new era were “rooted in
the people (minponshugi) and tackle[d] social problems.”11 But all elites agreed aswell that visions of economic democracy or political attacks on the imperial institution
were beyond the pale. Under the Seiyūkai in 1920, Hara Kei moved harshly against
a strike at the nation’s largest steel mill. In the days following the September 1923
earthquake, as they tolerated and sometimes incited the massacre of thousands of
Koreans, government forces also moved violently against those seen as political out­
laws in a series of notorious acts of state violence. The police murdered the feminist¯
Sakae, and their nephew. In a second
writer Itō Noe, her famous anarchist lover Osugi
attack, the police together with army troops rounded up and killed the union leader
Hirasawa Keishichi and nine other labor activists. These ﬁgures hardly represented amajor immediate threat to Japan’s rulers, but many of those in the elite, especially in
military and court circles, and some in the bureacracy, took a harsh “zero tolerance”
approach to radical ideas. Political party leaders seem to have agreed. The parties
scarcely murmured a word in protest at these acts. Under the Kenseikai in 1925, theDiet passed a repressive Peace Preservation Law. It made criticism of the emperor acapital offense and criticism of “the system of private property” punishable by up toten years in jail. Under the Seiyūkai in 1928, police launched a massive crackdown
on the JCP. They arrested sixteen hundred people and prosecuted ﬁve hundred. Policearrested another seven hundred accused as communists in a roundup the following
year.
The parties thus ruled as partners of other elites. They shared social ties. They
traded economic favors and political patronage. And they agreed in fundamental ways

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on their ideological commitments: They accepted some degree of democratic partici­
pation, but they supported empire and the emperor as foundations of the politicalorder.
But through the 1920s, an important strategic division also emerged among parties
and within the bureaucracy and the military. Some argued that imperial Japan should
be a democracy for men of capital and landed property only. Others maintained thatnational power and social order would best be secured by making Japan a considerably
more open, democratic society for all men, or even for women, as long as they stayed
within the boundaries of acceptable thought and behavior.
Both these avenues were explored in the 1920s. The more conservative programof imperial democracy is associated with the Seiyūkai party and with bureaucrats in
the Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce. It dominated national policy in the im­mediate wake of World War I. The Seiyūkai moved cautiously to broaden the scopeof legal participation in politics. Hara supported a lowered property tax qualiﬁcation
for suffrage, which the Diet ratiﬁed in 1919. The change increased the size of theelectorate to three million men, about 5 percent of the population. And the Seiyūkai
did recognize at least an expanded role for women on the margins of politics in 1922
by amending the law of 1900 that denied all political rights to women. They were
now given the right to attend political meetings, although not other rights such as
joining political organizations. But Hara consistently opposed universal suffrage evenfor males in these years: “It is too soon. Abolition of property tax [voting] restrictions,with the intent to destroy class distinctions, is a dangerous idea. I cannot agree.”12 His
home minister supported workplace councils to win employee loyalty, while refusing
to recognize more autonomous union activity. In 1919 he played a key role in founding
a think tank called the Harmonization Society with state and corporate ﬁnancial sup­port. The body’s mission was to study social problems and promote harmony between
labor and capital. The Seiyūkai also sought to bolster the position of small-scalelandowners in the countryside. In 1920 it further set up a committee in the Ministryof Agriculture and Commerce to consider reform of tenant farming, but faced withlandlord opposition, it shelved plans to write a law giving legal rights to tenant
farmers.
The Seiyūkai administration of 1918–21, and the “transcendental” cabinets of
1922–24, also put in place a more elaborate set of social welfare programs of thelocal and national government. Hara’s cabinet created a Social Affairs Bureau in the
Home Ministry in 1920, charged to address issues such as unemployment, labor dis­putes, and tenant farmer protests. It pushed a health insurance law and a revised factory
law through the Diet in 1922. The insurance law required all medium and large-scalecompanies to create health insurance unions for all employees, funded by a combi­
nation of worker and company premium payments, or to allow the employees to joina new government-administered insurance plan. The factory law raised minimum sumsfor death and injury beneﬁts and sick pay.13
In addition, local governments beginning with Osaka in 1918 improvised a lowcost system to provide counseling and moral support to the poorest families in thenation. It drew community leaders into the administration of the system, giving them
the unpaid position of “district commissioner.” The commissioners made the rounds
of indigent households in their neighborhood, counseling them on hygiene, offering

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job introductions, exhorting them to save, and introducing them to various sources ofprivate charity or public relief. By the late 1920s, the Home Ministry had endorsed
the district commissioner system as “the central institution of social work” in Japan.14
These various programs were signiﬁcant. But they were clearly limited by thegovernment’s reluctance to spend its money on social problems. The Privy Council
thwarted the will of the Diet by refusing to allocate funds to implement the new
insurance and factory laws. The district commissioners by the late 1920s mounted
strong campaigns calling on the government to provide more generous poor relief,
with little immediate result.
Politicians in the Kenseikai/Minseitō did come forward with a more liberal versionof imperial democracy, in an alliance with a new generation of Home Ministry bu­
reaucrats. The latter were impressed that liberal reforms had brought a degree of social
stability to postwar Europe, especially Britain. A more expansive social policy became
the order of the day under the Kenseikai cabinet headed by Katō Kōmei in 1924. Katōwon passage of the Tenant Farmer Dispute Mediation Law, which offered implicit
legal recognition to tenant farmer unions. Over the next sixteen years, nearly twothirds of all recorded tenant disputes were mediated under this law.15 Katō also pushed
to reform the Peerage and reduce its power, although without success. But he did
push through the most famous reform of the era in 1925: universal male suffrage. All
men over age twenty-ﬁve who were not on public assistance were granted the rightto vote.
The Kenseikai in 1926 then called for a three-part program of “universal suffragefor industry”: a law to give legal standing to labor unions, a labor disputes conciliation
bill, and the repeal of the anti-union clause in the Public Order Police law of 1900.
The union bill failed because of opposition from Ministry of Agriculture and Com­
merce bureaucrats, the Seiyūkai party, and most business federations, but the othermeasures became law. The Kenseikai also succeeded in allocating the funds to put
into practice the changes approved in the factory law and health insurance laws of1922. And the Home Ministry in 1926 directed prefectural authorities to respect thespirit of the labor union bill even though it had been defeated in the Diet. Taken
together, these steps were very signiﬁcant. They offered working people social support
and the implicit right to organize and to strike.
The Kenseikai/Minseitō cabinets also broadened political and civil rights for
women. After the modest political reform of 1922 that freed them to attend politicalevents, women’s groups continued pressing for rights still denied them: the right ofpolitical association, the right to vote, and the right to hold local public ofﬁce. In
1929 Prime Minister Hamaguchi, his foreign minister, and his home minister held anunprecedented meeting with leading female suffragists to ask for their support for thegovernment’s policy of tight budgets and ﬁscal austerity. The prime minister inexchange promised to support female suffrage and civil rights. He was moved to takethis step by the severity of the economic crisis as well as his liberal belief that ex­panded participation would bring stability in the long run. Women’s groups optimis­
tically interpreted this get-together as recognition that women were on their way to
becoming full members of the body politic.
These Kenseikai/Minseitō policies sought to give excluded groups a voice and astake in the system. Under universal manhood suffrage, new working-class parties

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formed immediately to challenge the so-called established parties, but they fared
poorly in the ﬁrst universal suffrage election in 1928. The Minseitō, on the other hand,
gained new support in the industrial districts of major cities. The party’s labor reforms
bolstered the standing of relatively moderate unions whose leaders claimed it waspossible to work within the existing political order. In these ways, the Minseitō’s more
inclusive version of imperial democracy seemed to be working to promote social order
and win votes. The party maintained a working alliance with some in the bureaucracy,
business world, and military.
But other elites were critical of these reforms. Many zaibatsu leaders, bureaucrats
in the Ministry of Justice and Ministry of Agriculture Commerce, and many in the
Seiyūkai party viewed these steps as dangerously radical. At the same time, intellec­
tuals disillusioned with chronic party corruption gave tepid support, at best, to the
Minseitō social liberalism. Some of these critics turned their discontent with the Min­seitō into a broader attack on political party governments more generally. As long asa modicum of social order was maintained, the economy avoided a major collapse,
and the empire appeared secure, one party or the other could pursue its agenda andkeep the support of allies in the bureaucracy, the military, and the business community.
But this hold on power was tentative.

H
isJAPAN, ASIA, AND THE WESTERN POWERS

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A similar mix of consensus on basic goals and strategic contention over how to achieve
them marked Japanese foreign policy of the 1910s and 1920s. The mainstream parties,
with other elites, fervently supported empire abroad. They sought equality with theimperialist powers of the West. In Asia, they wanted to make Japan more than theequal of the other powers, and they pushed the Western powers to recognize a special
Japanese interest in Asia. They shared these general goals with military leaders aswell as editorial writers in the press. But politicians as much as the military disagreed
sharply among themselves on how to achieve these goals.
Several related issues proved most divisive. First, should Japan seek economic
and military advantage in China by cooperating with the European powers and theUnited States, or should it take unilateral actions? Second, should Japan support andwork with China’s struggling young government, which had led the 1911 revolution
against the Qing dynasty, or should it impose order in China by cutting deals withlocal warlords who were resisting the weak central government? Finally, should Japan
recognize and work with the Soviet Union, or should it seek to destroy or contain it?
In the years from World War I through the 1920s, all these alternatives were pursued.
The outbreak of World War I raised every one of these questions. It presented theJapanese government with golden opportunities to extend its power in Asia. The
Anglo-Japanese alliance of 1902 (revised in 1911) led Japan quickly to join the war
on the British side in August 1914. By year’s end, Japanese troops had taken controlof German possessions including railways and a military base in China’s Shandong
peninsula and several Paciﬁc islands.
This course was more than acceptable to Japan’s British ally. It did not particularly
trouble the neutral Americans. But matters became more complex when the Japanese
government followed by addressing the notorious Twenty-One Demands to China. In

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¯
Shigenobu and his foreign minister, Katō KōJanuary 1915, Prime Minister Okuma
mei, whose government was allied to the Dōshikai party, presented the young Chinese
government led by Yuan Shikai with ﬁve sets of speciﬁc demands (twenty-one in all).
The ﬁfth group was especially offensive to the Chinese. It would have set up joint
Chinese-Japanese police forces in China and required the Chinese government to ac­
cept the appointment of Japanese advisors in political and economic as well as militaryaffairs. This would have sent China far along the road toward colonization by Japan.
The Chinese populace reacted with outrage. Anti-Japanese activists launched boy­cotts of Japanese goods and shipping. Yuan resisted the demands and sought inter­national support. When the British and Americans objected to the more radical de­mands, the Japanese agreed to withdraw the claims put forth in group ﬁve. Yuan
accepted the other demands. Among other things, China agreed to recognize Japan’scontrol of the former German possessions. China also gave Japan rights to build
railways in Shandong, and Yuan recognized that Japan had a special position in south­
ern Manchuria.
Japanese military leaders supported the pursuit of economic and strategic power¯
on the continent. But Yamagata Aritomo and others were troubled by the way Okuma
and Katō stirred up anti-Japanese sentiment in pursuit of their goals in China. Of equal
or greater concern to Yamagata was Katō’s clear intent to increase civilian control offoreign policy and party control of the government. When Katō left his position and¯
the Okuma
cabinet resigned because of scandal, Yamagata was able to hold off party
government by putting in place his ally, General Terauchi Masatake.16
With less diplomatic controversy, the new Japanese government continued to risk
tensions with the West and press its advantage as the war continued. When the UnitedStates entered the war in 1917, it became Japan’s ally. The two governments signed
the Ishii-Lansing agreement. Japan agreed to respect China’s independence and prom­ised not to obstruct America’s equal commercial access to China. In exchange, theAmericans recognized Japan’s “special interests” in China. In effect, the two countries
agreed to recognize each other’s colonial possessions in Asia. In 1918 Japan pushedahead to secure its “special interests” with the so-called Nishihara Loans to China(named for Prime Minister Terauchi’s representative who negotiated the terms). These
were nominally loans from private Japanese banks for economic projects such as
railway building. In fact, the Japanese government provided the funds to prop up one
Chinese leader against warlord rivals in exchange for further economic privileges in
Shandong and Manchuria.
Tensions over the Japanese stake in China carried over into the World War I peace
negotiations at Versailles in 1919. Japan joined the peace conference as one of thevictorious allies. Its delegates wanted above all to conﬁrm Japanese control over theformer German leasehold in Shandong. They also eagerly called for the principle ofracial equality to be made part of the founding covenant of the League of Nations.
The American president, Woodrow Wilson, and the other allied leaders allowed Japanto keep its foothold in Shandong, but they refused to include the racial equality clause.
These decisions undermined the idealistic claims of the Western powers that principlesof equality and self-determination should anchor the postwar international order. They
fueled strong Japanese anger at the hypocrisy of the Western governments.

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The Japanese rulers simultaneously provoked Western mistrust by the way it in­tervened against the Soviet Union in an episode known as the Siberian Intervention.
When the Bolshevik movement triumphed in Russia in November 1917, the Japanese
government began searching for some means to encourage a counterrevolution to
topple Russia’s new communist regime. At the very least, Japan hoped to support ananti-communist regime in the nearby regions of far eastern Russia, which were notyet securely under Bolshevik control. But General Terauchi’s government was un­
willing to move alone.
An opportunity to act presented itself in 1918. In March, the British, French, andAmerican governments agreed to send troops to Siberia. Their goal was to protect
allied war supplies and pro-czarist troops gathered in Vladivostok. President Wilson
asked Japan to join the intervention. Prime Minister Terauchi was only too happy to
oblige. Wilson requested the help of seven thousand troops. Japan promised to send
twelve thousand and in fact dispatched no less than seventy thousand men! They werestill in Siberia in 1922, two years after the other powers had decided the anti-Bolshevik
movement was lost and had withdrawn their troops. The Japanese forces continued tosupport a small counterrevolutionary government in Vladivostok. This hopeless uni­lateral action came under mounting domestic and international criticism. Having
gained nothing but the suspicion of the West and the distrust of the Soviet Union andhaving lost three thousand lives, Japan withdrew its troops and brought them homelate in 1922.
The Treaty of Versailles and the Siberian Intervention marked a rocky start down
the road of postwar cooperative imperialism. The major powers continued to seek
ways to work together throughout the 1920s. As the Siberian venture drew to its close,the Hara government agreed to join an international peace conference in Washington.
One goal of the meeting was to end an emerging naval arms race that set Japan,
Britain, and the United States against each other. Hara was committed to an economic
policy of reduced government expenditures, so he welcomed this effort. The treaty
committed the British, American, and Japanese governments to keep their warshipcapacities (by tonnage) to a ratio of 5 : 5 : 3, respectively. The Japanese accepted thelower level because the British and Americans promised to build no naval fortiﬁcationsin the western Paciﬁc. The governments agreed that these ratios would ensure thesecurity of each nation while preventing an arms race.
Throughout the 1920s, the Japanese government streamlined its military forces
for strategic as well as economic reasons. Most military leaders supported these efforts.
The government cut manpower and weapons. Military costs fell from a peak of 55
percent of the national budget in 1918 to just 29 percent by 1924. Troop reductions
continued over the next several years. In 1925 Ugaki Kazushige, the minister of thearmy (who served in Kenseikai/Minseitō cabinets from 1924 to 1927 and again from1930 to 1931), cut four divisions or thirty-four thousand troops. But much of themoney saved was redirected to new commitments to buy modern weapons. Ugaki also
implemented policies to build popular support for the military, such as required mil­itary education in middle and higher schools. This approach reﬂected the lesson
learned by the Japanese high command from World War I: Any future war would
require the total mobilization of the civilian population and resources.

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Parallel to these policies to limit and modernize the Japanese military, the gov­
ernment for much of the 1920s pursued a more cautious policy toward China than it
had during World War I.
At issue was the question of how best to protect the dramatically increasing
Japanese presence and how to deal with the various contenders for political power in
China itself. In 1900 no more than 4,000 Japanese civilians lived in China. By 1920,
the expatriate community stood at 134,000. The Japanese resided mainly in Manchuria
and North China, but by the mid-1920s Japanese businesses had made substantial
investments in Shanghai as well, in textile production especially.
These men pursued their business goals in a constantly changing political envi­
ronment. The Chinese Nationalist Party, or Kuomintang, had by now inherited thebanner of the revolution that overthrew the Qing. But through the mid-1920s its holdon power was uncertain at best. It faced resistance from a growing communist move­
ment in the cities and countryside, as well as from regional commanders called “war­lords,” who had mobilized substantial military forces. The warlords were especiallypowerful in northern China and Manchuria, where the Japanese laid claim to special
economic and strategic privileges.
The Seiyūkai cabinet under Hara sought to safeguard Japan’s interests by coop­erating with the Western powers as well as the Chinese Nationalist regime. Hara
discontinued the Nishihara Loans, which had facilitated Japanese intervention in Chi­nese politics. As part of the 1922 Washington agreements, he negotiated the return of
Shandong to China, while keeping long-term rights over key railways. The Kenseikai/
Minseitō governments of 1924 through 1927, with the Western-oriented Shidehara
Kijūrō as foreign minister, continued the conciliatory chorus. On three occasions from
1925 to early 1927, the British or the Americans called on Japan to join in the dispatchof troops to counter perceived threats to foreign interests. Each time, Shidehara refused
to send troops.
At the same time, Shidehara was not willing to see Japanese businesses in China
rely simply on free access to open markets. Following up on promises made at the
Washington Conference, the major powers convened an international meeting on tariffreform in Peking in 1925. Its goal was to restore tariff controls to the Chinese, apower they had lost eighty years before in the Opium Wars. From the outset, Shidehara
had reservations about supporting Chinese demands for tariff autonomy. He feared
China would use its restored powers to impede Japanese textile exports, and he refused
to make key concessions. No agreement was reached, and the meeting ended in failure.
Despite such hard-nosed economic bargaining, Shidehara was sharply criticizedat home for “weak-kneed” diplomacy because of his reluctance to send troops to China
to confront anti-Japanese agitation. The possibility of a different approach emerged in
1927 when General Tanaka Giichi took over as prime minister of a new Seiyūkaicabinet. Tanaka was a career military man, invited to join the Seiyūkai as party pres­ident in 1925. He did not directly repudiate cooperation with the West, but he pro­
moted a considerably more assertive foreign policy than Shidehara. He sent troops toChina on three occasions in 1927 and 1928, ostensibly to protect Japanese citizens
and economic interests. In fact, the immediate threats were far less than reported backhome. But the Nationalist army, now led by an ambitious leader named Chiang Kai­
shek, had taken control of central China by 1927. The prospect loomed that he would

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extend his reach to North China and challenge Japanese privileges there and in Man­churia. The Seiyūkai and military leaders agreed that Japan should consider indepen­
dent action and alliances with local warlords to protect these interests.17
Part of the passion moving people in Japan to oppose diplomatic cooperation with
the West in China came from anger at the way America was treating Japanese im­
migrants. By the early 1900s, Japanese migrants to Hawaii and the American mainland
were approaching one hundred thousand in number. Anti-immigrant rhetoric about
the threat of this so-called Yellow Peril was particularly virulent on the West Coast.
Local laws mandated that schools be segregated. President Theodore Roosevelt sought
to calm the situation in 1908 by concluding the so-called Gentleman’s Agreementwith Prime Minister Saionji. This nonlegislative measure committed the Japanese gov­
ernment to limit drastically the ﬂow of emigrants to the United States.
American discrimination against those Japanese already present was anything but
gentlemanly. New legislation in California prohibited Japanese from owning land orleasing it long-term. The U.S. Supreme Court ruled in 1922 that no Japanese or other
Asian immigrants could become naturalized American citizens. And a new Immigra­
tion Act in 1924 superseded the Gentleman’s Agreement by prohibiting Japanese im­
migration entirely. Such steps not only contradicted the general spirit of postwar in­
ternational cooperation but also speciﬁcally undermined American calls for Japan tosupport an Open Door policy to American interests in Asia. They aroused considerable
anger in Japan. In a letter to the U.S. secretary of labor, Japanese ambassador Hanihara
Masanao wrote,

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The important question is whether Japan as a nation is or is not entitled to the proper
respect and consideration of other nations. . . . The manifest object of the [exclusion
clause] is to single out Japanese as a nation, stigmatizing them as unworthy andundesirable in the eyes of the American people.18

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But even more important in provoking domestic criticisms of the government’s
foreign policy was the trend of deepening resistance in Asia to Japanese colonial ruleand imperialism. The great irony is that Japan’s victory in the Russo-Japanese War
had initially ﬂamed anti-colonial passions from China and Vietnam to the Philippines,
Burma, and India. People in all these lands viewed Japan as an anti-colonial force andtook heart at what they viewed as the ﬁrst modern victory of a “yellow” race overthe “whites.” From the turn of the century through the 1910s in particular, thousandsof youths from China, hundreds from the Korean and Taiwanese colonies as well as
Vietnam, and a handful from places such as India, Burma, and the Philippines sought
education in Japan. These students won support for projects of reform in their own
countries from many Japanese political ﬁgures, ranging from anti-Western nationalists
to internationally minded socialists.
But Japanese support for these youthful Asian dreams of liberation evaporated in
the face of imperialist realpolitik. When Japan concluded an alliance with France in
1907, for example, the two governments secretly agreed to respect each other’s co­lonial possessions. As a result, the Japanese government forced Vietnamese students
to leave the country. In the following years, in the eyes of vast numbers of Asians,
Japan’s aggressive policies from the annexation of Korea through the Twenty-One
Demands turned the nation from a force for Asian liberation to one of oppression.

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In particular, the year 1919 witnessed two momentous anti-Japanese outbursts. In
Korea, patriots in exile were thrilled by Woodrow Wilson’s 1918 call for national selfdetermination just prior to the Versailles peace conference. They tried to send dele­gates from Hawaii, but the Japanese refused them passports. In February 1919 hun­dreds of Korean students in Tokyo formed a Youth Independence Corps and ratiﬁed
a call for immediate independence. Similar sentiments in Seoul crystallized aroundthe funeral of the former king of Korea, Kojong, who died in January 1919. Antici­
pating a huge Japanese police presence at the funeral itself on March 3, nationalist
organizers issued a Declaration of Independence on March 1. This sparked peacefuldemonstrations of several hundred thousand students, laborers, and others in Seoul,
which quickly spread nationwide. The Japanese authorities were stunned at the pow­
erful sentiments and careful organization that obviously lay behind these widespreadactions. They responded in a panic of violent suppression. Japanese forces killedthousands of Koreans. They arrested tens of thousands. By late April a brutal formof order had been restored.19
Immediately after this, similar massive demonstrations broke out in China. In late
April, the great powers rejected China’s appeal at Versailles to retake full control over
Shandong from Japan. On May 4, several thousand students demonstrated in Tian­
anmen Square. As in Korea, this movement spread to other cities. It was directed inpart at the weakness of China’s own government, but fury at Japanese encroachment
on China was the driving force. This May Fourth Movement marked a new stage inthe power and breadth of popular nationalism in China. Anti-imperialist protests, in­cluding numerous boycotts of Japanese goods, recurred throughout the 1920s. In 1925,
the May Thirtieth Movement began with strikes at Japanese-owned textile mills in
Shanghai. When British police killed several demonstrators on May 30, a nationwide
outburst of anti-Japanese demonstrations, strikes, and boycotts exceeded those of 1919.
Partly in response to these events in China, Japanese political leaders undertook
relatively conciliatory efforts to protect economic interests in China for much of the
1920s. In similar fashion, Prime Minister Hara Kei decided that simple repression was
the wrong way to sustain colonial rule in Korea. In the wake of the March 1 uprising,he appointed a new governor general, Admiral Saitō Makoto, with a mission to restore“harmony between Japan and Korea.” Saitō’s new departures came to be called “cul­tural rule.” The essence of his program was a strategy of divide and rule. Colonialadministrators were charged to support cooperative Korean leaders and organizations,while isolating and suppressing any sign of anti-Japanese activity.
“Cultural rule” has often been dismissed as cosmetic reform that masked unre­lenting authoritarian control. After Saitō’s arrival, the Japanese quickly and dramati­
cally quadrupled the number of police stations and substations in just one year. The
police developed a huge network of spies and informers throughout Korea. In thename of economic development, colonial administrators funded improved irrigation,and production did expand, but most of the increase was exported to Japan. Per capita
rice consumption in Korea actually declined.
But Governor General Saitō’s reforms were slightly more than window dressing.
Saitō gradually expanded the number of public schools for Koreans. He recruited more
Koreans into the colonial administration. He narrowed the inequality between theirwages and those of the Japanese. Koreans were permitted to publish books, magazines,

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and newspapers more extensively than before. Colonial administrators allowed a muchwider range of Korean organizations to carry on activities. Korean people founded
thousands of new education and religious groups, youth groups, and organizations offarmers and laborers. A small number of Korean capitalists were given new economic
opportunities.
Certainly, censorship and surveillance remained intensive. Those who challenged
Japanese rule even slightly were jailed and tortured. Nonetheless, nationalist politicalactivities continued, either openly in subtle disguise or in secret. As in Japan (although
in a more tightly constrained fashion), a newly diverse and energetic modern cultural
life—cinema, radio, and literature—ﬂourished throughout the 1920s and into the early
1930s.
In Japan, one ﬁnds a wide variety of responses outside of government circles tothe new postwar international environment. A few intellectuals such as Yoshino Sakuzō
combined support for a more democratic system at home with support for a gradualmove toward self-determination for colonial subjects, Koreans in particular. Such po­sitions are noteworthy because Yoshino, among others, had previously opposed Korean
independence without reservation. Yoshino and a number of others, such as the pub­lisher and politician Shimada Saburō, also vigorously supported the program of arms
reduction. By 1921, public opinion had turned sharply against the Siberian interven­tion, and newspapers called for Japan to withdraw its troops. Stories circulated in theearly 1920s that soldiers were embarrassed to wear their uniforms in public. In asymbolic move against imperialism in 1920, Japan’s largest union federation, theGreater Japan Federation of Labor, dropped the word “Greater” from its title. The
group issued a call for self-determination in Korean and ran occasional articles on theplight of Korean workers. Working-class political organizations in the late 1920s en­dorsed the right of the Chinese people to self-determination. They uniformly criticized
the military interventions of General Tanaka Giichi and the Seiyūkai.
Other civilian voices took a stand against Western imperialism, but portrayed
Japan as a different sort of power. They actually called for a more aggressive Japanese
foreign policy. Older ultranationalists such as Uchida Ryōhei (1874–1937) had sup­ported Japanese imperialism in Asia since the 1880s, and they continued to demand
expansion on the mainland to bolster the glory of imperial rule. But probably themost inﬂuential intellectual to promote such a vision was Kita Ikki (1883–1937). His
famous manifesto, An Outline Plan for the Reorganization of Japan (1923), rejectedclass struggle at home but transposed it abroad. He called Japan an “international
proletarian” and asked, “Does Japan not have the right to go to war and seize their[Anglo-American] monopolies in the name of justice?”20
Such ideas won some popular support. Kamino Shin’ichi, a machinist at a major
shipyard, visited Shanghai in 1920 en route to Europe to study engineering. He later
wrote of his shock at the signs that banned “Chinese and dogs” from using parks intheir own city. He abandoned his internationalist socialism and began to espouse avociferous self-styled “Japanism.” He called on fellow workers to support emperor
and empire against the West, and he won considerable support. In China, hundreds ofJapanese adventurers called “China rōnin (rōnin were masterless samurai) combined
proﬁteering with political maneuvers nominally in support of Asian liberation. By thelate 1920s, a growing network of nationalistic political groups linked together these

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civilian expansionists at home and abroad with young, action-oriented military men.
They won quiet (and sometimes open) support from top military brass including army
ministers Ugaki Kazushige and Araki Sadao and the Korean governor general, Saitō
Makoto. Their rhetoric was one of pan-Asian solidarity against the West, but they
always saw Japan as the hegemonic leader of Asia.
In an era before widespread public opinion polling, it is impossible to judge thebreadth of support for these various positions for and against imperialism. That an
anti-military sentiment existed at all is worth noting. But it was certainly not the
majority sentiment even at the peak of postwar internationalism. The mainstream ofintellectual and popular voices in Japan supported the nation’s empire, even as they
complained of Western imperialism.
Inside and outside the government, the central line of contention in Japan’s foreign
policy over the 1910s and 1920s was not pro-imperialist versus anti-imperialist.
Rather, it set “slow-track” versus “fast-track” imperialists. The former took a morecooperative approach to other powers, especially Britain, the United States and China.
The latter stressed unilateral solutions to conﬂicts. This division did not always fallout neatly along party lines. Nor did it consistently set moderate “slow-track” civilians
against an expansionist “fast-track” military. It was two politicians allied to the Dō¯
and Katō, who put forward the aggressive Twenty-one
shikai party, after all, Okuma
Demands during World War I. But by the end of the 1920s, some consistent patterns
had emerged in the domestic debates over foreign policy. The Minseitō supported amore cooperative approach in negotiations with the British and Americans and indealing with Chinese nationalism. The Seiyūkai supported more aggressive and uni­lateral diplomacy toward both China and the West. Both military leaders and many
lower-level ofﬁcers were impatient with cooperative diplomacy and increasingly scorn­
ful of civilian politicians. The army saw the greatest threat to Japan’s Asianhegemony—and the greatest opportunities to solve the problem—residing in China,
especially North China and Manchuria. The navy focused its concerns on rival Western
powers in the Paciﬁc.
It is important to recognize that Japanese foreign policy differed little from thatof other imperialist powers in its basic objectives. All of the powers continued projectsof colonial or semicolonial domination in the 1920s. Some spoke of assimilation andothers promised eventual independence and self-determination, but they all justiﬁed
their rule with rhetoric of tutelage and advancement for colonized peoples. All powers
spoke of cooperation among themselves even as each nation sought to safeguard its
own imperialist hegemony in areas of special concern. The United States spoke of its
unique rights and interests in Latin America in similar ways to the Japanese rhetoricof special interests in Asia.
But two differences would prove crucial. Beginning in the mid-1920s, the Western
powers proved slightly more willing than Japan to pull back from their imperialism
in China by restoring a measure of autonomy to the Chinese Nationalist leadership,
and the clash between Japanese and Western approaches to China only widened fromthis point onward. And of greatest consequence, in the 1930s the political systemcreated in Japan under the Meiji constitution made it difﬁcult for leaders to mediate
conﬂicts among powerful actors. It offered no institutional checks to control militaryofﬁcers who took unauthorized actions. Only the emperor had the theoretical power

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to rein in the military, and he proved unable and unwilling to use his power in thisway.21
In sum, when the imperial democratic order came under ﬁre at home and abroadat the end of the 1920s and the early 1930s, Japanese leaders chose emperor andempire over democracy. At a time of economic depression and international tension,
they chose exclusive empire over cooperative imperialism. They abandoned the dem­
ocratic path of parliamentary rule for a reinforced authoritarian politics.

11
The Depression Crisis and Responses

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From the 1890s through the 1920s a hybrid politics of imperial democracy had
emerged in Japan. The political order was anchored by a modernized imperial insti­
tution, which looked to the British monarchy as a model and anxiously offered space
for a signiﬁcant degree of pluralism. Organizations of landlords and businessmen,
factory workers and tenant farmers, and women and men pursued their goals in a
messy politics of confrontation and compromise.
Then, beginning with the years from 1929 to 1932, a combination of shocks—
economic depression, intense social conﬂict, military expansion, and the assassinationof prime ministers and leading capitalists—transformed Japan’s political system. By
the end of the 1930s, independent political parties, business associations, producer
cooperatives, labor unions, and tenant unions were replaced by a series of statecontrolled mass bodies intended to mobilize the nation for its “holy war” with China
and bring harmony and order at home. A new political order that bore great similarity
to the fascist systems of Germany and Italy had become ascendant and would plunge
Japan and Asia into a disastrous war. At the same time, some of the changes initiatedduring the depression and in the name of mobilization for war proved enduring. It is
possible to identify a transwar system in state policies toward economy and society
and a transwar society in some of the characteristics of daily life.

ECONOMIC AND SOCIAL CRISISIn October 1929 the New York stock market crashed. The global economic crisis that
followed was a key incident in the conjuncture of events that brought about Japan’s
political shift. The world depression coincided in destructive fashion with a recent
initiative in Japanese ﬁnancial policy. A Minseitō government under Prime Minister
Hamaguchi had come to power in July 1929. It resolved to implement two policies
that had been pursued on and off throughout the 1920s to revive the stagnant economy.
First, domestic prices would be forced down and exports encouraged by tightening
the money supply and cutting government spending (i.e., retrenchment). Second, in­ternational trade and investment would be stabilized by returning to a ﬁxed exchange
rate. Japan would follow the lead of the Western powers by going back to the gold
182

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The Depression Crisis and Responses

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standard (which Japan and the other powers had left during World War I) at the prewarrate.
The ﬁscal retrenchment program came ﬁrst. It appeared to be succeeding in thesecond half of 1929. Wholesale prices fell 6 percent. So, in January 1930, Japan
returned to the gold standard as promised. At a moment of plunging prices worldwide,
this move brought disaster. Deep global deﬂation erased the beneﬁt of lower domestic
prices. The ﬁxed exchange rate prevented further devaluation that might have boosted
Japanese exports.1
In addition, Japan’s zaibatsu banks behaved in a way that was economically smart
but politically damaging. Bankers quickly realized that the government would haveno choice but to abandon this move to the gold standard and devalue the yen. They
sold massive amounts of yen for dollars. When Japan indeed left the gold standard in1931, the value of the yen quickly fell by half against the dollar. The banks happily
doubled their money by repurchasing the cheaper Japanese currency with their dollars.
This behavior reinforced the widespread belief that capitalists and their allies in
the political parties were greedy and selﬁsh: They were proﬁting handsomely by
selling out the country during a depression that was impoverishing everyone else.
Well beyond the small circle of Marxian intellectuals who ﬁrst took this view, it be­came a commonplace idea that Japan stood at a systemic “dead end.” The economy
and political structure seemed paralyzed. Social disorder and immorality appeared
rampant.
The crisis was especially acute among farmers. Between 1929 and 1931 the av­
erage price of basic agricultural commodities including rice and barley fell by 43
percent. As their incomes tumbled, small-scale landowners were unable to pay taxes.
Many sought to raise their earnings by retaking land from tenants. They wanted towork these ﬁelds with family labor, including unemployed children returning from thecities. Tenant farmers resisted eviction. Land disputes surged in number.
The quality of disputes changed as well. Most tenant-landlord struggles in the
1920s saw the tenants on the offensive, demanding rent reductions. Now tenants were
desperate and defensive. The proportion of disputes over contractual matters such aseviction rose from just 5 percent in the early 1920s to nearly 50 percent by thedepression years. Tenant farmers often built crude fences around their ﬁelds and set
up picket lines to protect them. More of these disputes than ever involved violence.
In the cities, the depression threatened shopkeepers and factory owners as wellas their employees. Retail traders faced bankruptcy when wage cuts and job losses
cut the buying power of their customers. Annual rates of failure among Tokyo retailstores nearly doubled from 1926 to 1930. The newspapers were ﬁlled with tales ofsmall storeowners ﬂeeing their creditors in the dead of night. Small-scale manufac­
turing businesses also failed by the thousands.
Disgusted with the ineffective response of the established political parties,
thousands of small businessmen joined movements to found new ones. They lambasted
the Seiyūkai as well as the ruling Minseitō as “running dogs of big capital.” One suchgroup, the Imperial Middle Class Federated Alliance, claimed “the established parties
have betrayed us, becoming the political lackeys of the capitalist cliques and trampling
the middle class of commercial, industrial, and agricultural producers.” To save thelong-suffering middle class, which had “supported the state ﬁnancially and defended

I MPER IA L JA P A N FR O M A SC E N D A N CE T O AS HE S

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Tenant farmer dispute, 1930, in Niigata. Standing on a pile of rice stalks, a leader of the
farmers’ union addresses the members. Such disputes surged in number and intensity during
the depression years.

Arya

Courtesy of Shogakkan Publishers.

the country resolutely,” Japan needed a “revolution in economic thought.” These
groups demanded new policies to guarantee the “prosperity of the mainstay class” of
taxpayers, producers, and exporters. This class in turn would save Japan from “abloody war of labor and capital.”2
The men who issued such fearful claims had reason to be worried. They faced
unprecedented hostility from employees who faced a dramatically increased threat ofunemployment. One historian’s estimate of joblessness in 1930–32 places nationwide
unemployment at about 15 percent of the industrial work force. Jobless rates in thecity might have been double this, and they surely exceeded 20 percent.3
Unlike bankrupt shopkeepers, the men and women who lost their jobs did not
ﬂee quietly into the night. Labor disputes, like agrarian struggles, took place in un­
precedented numbers and with a new intensity. They took place in small factories aswell as large ones. More women than ever took part, especially in the embattled textile
industry. As a female speaker shouted at a rally during one such strike in Tokyo in
1930:

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The Depression Crisis and Responses

Even if we go back to the countryside, our parents and our brothers do not haveenough to eat. Knowing this, how can we go back?4

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Organized workers engaged in more prolonged disputes than in the past, and theyturned violent more frequently. In part, the violence was calculated. When workers
lost their jobs, they often camped outside the factory. They demanded rehiring or elsea huge severance pay of six months’ or one year’s wages. They knew that the police
valued order above all. When they drew in the authorities as mediators, for example
by starting a ﬁght with company guards, they often won a favorable compromise.
They typically gained three or four months of severance pay instead of the minimum
fourteen days pay dictated by Home Ministry regulations.
The escapade of the “chimney man” was one especially creative application ofthis tactic. When a group of textile workers at the Fuji Spinning Company near Tokyo
walked out on strike in November 1930, one young man scaled the mill’s smokestack.
He refused to descend until the strike was settled. The genius of his move was thatthe emperor was scheduled to pass directly beneath this perch in his luxurious railroad
car several days later. The police could not allow a militant unionist to look down on
an imperial procession from such a height. They frantically mediated a compromise
settlement, and the whole drama was widely reported in the press.
On other occasions, violence broke out that was less calculated and at least as
shocking. During a dispute at the Tōyō Muslin textile mills in Tokyo that same au­tumn, launched to protest mass dismissals, hundreds of young women workers joinedsocialist organizers in a night-time march through darkened streets. They threw stones,smashed streetcar windows, and fought police. The newspapers immediately dubbed
this a “street war.” They wrote in dramatic fashion of the ﬁghting spirit of the young
women marchers, and the Muslin workers became famous.
Newly militant factory workers were not the only women who shocked the au­thorities and the public. The celebrated middle-class “modern girl” of the mid-1920s,
who drew much attention at ﬁrst for her audacious fashion, appeared to be taking her
ﬂamboyant ways in new directions by the decade’s end. Most troubling to social
reformers and state ofﬁcials alike were the mushrooming numbers of waitresses inmajor cities. They worked in cafés and dance halls in all the major cities. The wait­
resses were not prostitutes, but they projected an erotic image. They earned their pay
mainly from tips. Café managers encouraged them to ﬂirt with customers, sell kisses,
and have sex with favorite patrons. In 1929, the number of cafe waitresses nationwide
passed 50,000, exceeding licensed prostitutes. By 1936, the police counted over
111,000 waitresses.
Bureaucrats and the public tolerated prostitution in part because they believed it
offered a necessary outlet for the sexual desires of men, while protecting decent girls
and women. In their view, the daughters of the rural poor worked as prostitutes outof economic need. Their ﬁlial piety in sending earnings home to their families was tobe praised, not condemned. The surge of café waitressing undermined the social logicof this sexual and moral order. In the view of police and Home Ministry ofﬁcials, thewaitresses were pursuing their own desires rather than serving their families. The
middle-class young women who were supposed to be insulated from sexuality by theseparate world of licensed prostitutes instead were “abandoning themselves” to plea­sure. They and their mates had become “delinquent modern boys and girls.” Beginning186

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in 1929 and continuing throughout the 1930s, ofﬁcials launched various campaigns
to suppress the “red lights and jazz world” of the cities. They arrested waitresses on
charges of pursuing unlicensed prostitution, and they banned students from enteringcafés or coffeehouses that employed women.5
The behavior of university students also contributed to the widespread sense ofsocial crisis during the depression. Hundreds of students suspected of communist party
membership had been arrested in the 1928 roundups, and the Ministry of Education
dissolved the Tokyo University New Man Society (Shinjinkai). Nonetheless, a waveof student protests broke out at leading universities in 1930 and 1931. Although these
protests concerned campus issues as much as national politics, government authorities
feared that an underground communist movement and a more general attraction to
Marxism and revolutionary ideas remained powerful. The Ministry of Education wasconvinced the nation faced a serious “student thought problem.” It vigorously moni­
tored and suppressed student activism, and by 1934, the student movement had lostits momentum.6¯ Sōichi, neatly summed
In a yearend essay in 1930, a well-known social critic, Oya
up the belief that Japanese society faced unprecedented crisis. He referred in particular
to the image of the textile women taking to the streets:

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The supervisor at X printer, largest in the Orient, claims he is always running out of
two characters, no matter how many pieces he casts. These are the characters for“woman” and for “class.” Demand for the former, especially, recently has risen sud­denly, and if he stocks 10,000 pieces he runs out before he knows it. . . . Doesn’t thefact of rising demand for these two characters give realistic color to the social faceof 1930. . . . The bedroom has moved into the foyer, into the living room, and ﬁnally
into the streets.7

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Despite such rhetoric, and the wide-ranging social pain and turbulence that pro­voked it, Japan’s experience of economic depression was actually less severe than thatof the United States as measured in statistics for unemployment or industrial output.
But the perception of crisis was profound and consequential, among the masses noless than the elites. Even before the depression, the practice of parliamentary ruleenjoyed just lukewarm popular support. When combined with a simultaneous inter­national crisis, the trauma of the depression era provoked new departures abroad andat home.

BREAKING THE IMPASSE: NEW DEPARTURES ABROAD
One impetus for change came from members of the ofﬁcer corps in the military andtheir civilian right-wing allies. Through the 1920s, groups of young ofﬁcers became
increasingly frustrated with the Japan’s foreign and domestic policies. They and theircivilian comrades were unhappy with the perceived weakness of the cooperative di­plomacy pursued by the political parties. They were angry at cutbacks in military
budgets and force size. They feared the Chinese Nationalist Party’s challenge to Jap­
anese hegemony in Manchuria and North China. They resented the decline in the
military’s prestige at home. They viewed the cozy relations between zaibatsu andparties as emblems of a capitalist system that weakened the military by driving the

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families of young soldiers into poverty. They responded with acts of rebellion andindependent military actions that dramatically changed the political landscape.
The Kwantung Army in Manchuria became one hotbed of such agitation. It had
been created in 1906 to guard Japan’s leased territory and rail lines in southern Man­churia (the province of Guandong, written Kwantung at the time) acquired in the 1905
settlement of the Russo-Japanese War. In the late 1920s, the army turned to insurgency
and conspiracy to carry out its mission, which its leaders had redeﬁned. No longer
did they see their role as the simple defense of Japanese interests in Manchuria. They
envisioned the army as a group in the vanguard of a coming war between Japan andthe West, with a mission to build a model of a new society in the areas under its
control. In June 1928 a Kwantung Army staff ofﬁcer engineered a plot to blow up a
train carrying the Chinese warlord, Zhang Zuolin, and blame the attack on his Chinese
rivals. Zhang had long been friendly to Japanese efforts to bolster him as a buffer
against the Chinese Nationalists to the south, led by Chiang Kai-shek. But as the
Nationalists gained in strength, Zhang seemed to be shifting his allegiance in theirdirection. The Kwantung Army conspirators hoped that his assassination would lead
Prime Minister Tanaka to support a more aggressive policy in Manchuria. Although
Tanaka and the Seiyukai were more willing than the Minseitō to use military force toprotect Japanese interests in China, the prime minister refused to take this radical step.
But when he discovered that the Kwantung Army was actually responsible for killing
Zhang, Tanaka’s government came under pressure from the throne not to publicly
embarrass the military. The government set an ominous precedent by taking no strong
actions to discipline those responsible. Emperor Hirohito’s displeasure at Tanaka’s
handling of the incident led the prime minister to resign.
Increasing antagonism between Japan and China over Manchuria was paralleledby heightened tensions between the Japanese, the British, and the Americans overnaval issues. The Washington Conference of 1922 had stipulated that the powers re­convene in London in 1930 to extend or revise the 1922 limits on naval warships.
The Minseitō government made a grave political error when it announced its goal toincrease Japan’s ratio from 60 to 70 percent of the British and American warship
tonnages (that is, a 10 : 10 : 7 rather than 5 : 5 : 3 ratio). The Western negotiators
bluntly refused to accept the full Japanese position. Hamaguchi’s negotiators in Lon­don did achieve a compromise whereby Japan could increase its capacity in certain
categories of warships but not others.
Back home, in the wake of these negotiations, the press and the navy condemned
the agreement as a betrayal of the national interest as put forth by Hamaguchi himself
just months earlier. The anti-treaty faction (called the “ﬂeet wing”) took control of
the navy over the following three years. All told, the treaty controversy weakened thelegitimacy of the Minseitō in particular and party rule in general.8
Rhetorical and physical attacks on the political establishment continued unabated.
From late 1930 through 1932, young ofﬁcers working in concert with civilian allies
carried out a shocking series of assassinations and attempted assassinations. MinseitōPrime Minister Hamaguchi Osachi was the ﬁrst victim, shot by a right-wing youth inNovember 1930. He died the following August. In February and March 1932, former
Finance Minister Inoue Jun’nosuke and Mitsui zaibatsu chief Dan Takuma were mur­dered by members of an ultra-nationalist civilian organization called The League of188

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Blood. In addition, young military ofﬁcers miscarried plots for coups d’état in Marchand October 1931, which had at least tacit approval from some top ofﬁcers.
The men who carried out these acts were part of an empirewide network ofclandestine study groups and associations linking military ofﬁcers and civilian ideo­
logues. They viewed the parties and the capitalist elite as enemies of a proper politicalsystem that would respect and unify the wills of emperor and people. In this, theyechoed party leaders of the early twentieth century who had criticized the Meiji oli­garchs and bureaucrats for the same sin. They offered no consensus on what newgroups should speak instead for emperor and people. Some pinned hopes on the mil­itary, others on the agricultural mainstay class of owner-farmers, others on the urban
mainstays in trade and industry.
The leaders of the Kwantung Army contributed powerfully to such thinking. They
worked out a strategy to break the foreign and domestic impasse with bold action in
Manchuria. One key ﬁgure was Colonel Ishiwara Kanji, the Kwantung Army’s op­
erations ofﬁcer from 1929 to 1932. Ishiwara had developed an apocalyptic view of
the international scene through his idiosyncratic studies of Buddhism and world his­tory. He believed that a cataclysmic “ﬁnal war” loomed inevitably between Japan andthe United States. To prepare for a Japanese victory, he argued to his subordinatesthat Japan had to take over Manchuria. The region’s rich mineral resources had stra­tegic value. He saw its fertile plains as a friendly destination for emigrant farmers,
which would relieve population pressures and agrarian poverty at home. In addition,
Ishiwara and his supporters saw Manchuria as a laboratory to create a new social
order based on principles of social equality and loyalty to the state, rather than selﬁshcapitalistic proﬁt-seeking. He believed that successful experiments in Manchuria
would strengthen Japan as they were later implemented at home.
On September 18, 1931, Ishiwara’s forces took bold clandestine action. They blew
up some track of the southern Manchurian railway at the major crossroads of Mukden(now named Shenyang) and announced it as the work of Chinese military forces. The
Kwantung Army used this as pretext for a runaway attack on Chinese regional armies
in the area.
With this action, they achieved in 1931 what their assassination of Zhang Zuolin
had failed to gain in 1928. By December the Japanese forces controlled most ofsouthern Manchuria. The questions of whether the military leadership in Tokyo knewof the planning for these actions and, if so, whether it approved them, remain contro­
versial to this day. Certainly the Manchurian Incident, as it came to be called, involved
some degree of secret planning and insubordination by ﬁeld ofﬁcers. It is equallycertain that both military and civilian leaders in Tokyo knew of the strong sentimentfor direct action in the Kwantung Army ranks and knew something of the plans toact. They had no grounds to be surprised at the events that fall.
Whatever its prior knowledge, the Tokyo government of Prime Minister Inukai
Tsuyoshi and the Seiyūkai responded weakly after the fact. Inukai had in any casebeen more sympathetic to a strong posture than his Minseitō predecessor, Prime Min­
ister Hamaguchi. He resisted military pressure to annex Manchuria as a formal colony,
but he allowed the Kwantung Army to install friendly Chinese leaders in a puppet
regime. This was called Manchukuo, founded in March 1932. It was nominally an
independent nation. The decision to create an “independent” state rather than an out­

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right colony reﬂected the ideology of pan-Asian liberation and anti-(Western) impe­
rialism that motivated the Japanese planners. But in practice the Japanese retained fullcontrol of the conquered territory. They placed the last emperor of China’s Qing
dynasty, Puyi, on a newly created throne as the Manchurian emperor. Many historians,
especially those in Japan, regard this Manchurian Incident of 1931–32 as the start ofwhat they call the Fifteen-Year War—essentially the start of World War II in Asia.
Indeed, a strong case can be made that this act of aggression made further conﬂict
inevitable.
Although unauthorized actions of ﬁeld ofﬁcers sparked the takeover of Manchuria,
top leaders of the military establishment supported this shift toward unilateral impe­
rialism in Asia. General Ugaki Kazushige, for example, was well known as a fairly
moderate military ﬁgure. He had served as army minister in both Seiyūkai and Min­seitō cabinets from 1927 to 1931. As the depression deepened in 1930–31, Ugaki
came to believe that Japan faced a systemic crisis. He condemned the violence of leftwing and right-wing radicals, but like them he blamed Japan’s weakness and disorderon capitalism and democracy run amok. Like many civilian bureaucrats, he and othersin the military feared that Japanese society was about to split into a mass of impov­
erished proletarians and farmers and a handful of rich capitalists. Looking overseas,
he feared that “defense limited to [Japanese] territory” was not enough. The world
trading system was breaking down, he wrote in 1930, so that open competition in
global markets was not possible. Only a more aggressive foreign policy would allow
Japan to ﬁnd markets so that it could raise productivity, diminish unemployment, andavoid “social tragedy.”9
Immediately after the military action began, the police and military authorities
intensiﬁed their surveillance and suppression of dissenting voices at home. But coer­cion was hardly needed to legitimate the Manchurian takeover. Most ordinary Japanesepeople, as well as elites, greeted the events of 1931–32 with unrestrained joy. News­
papers wrote exuberant accounts of Japanese advances. Newsreels and radio competed
to broadcast the latest battleﬁeld reports in sensational fashion. Former leftists changed
their tune: The takeover of Manchuria was not an act of capitalist imperialism because
it promised to beneﬁt the entire nation by relieving unemployment. New popularsongs, new Kabuki plays, and even new restaurant menus celebrated the acquisitionof a rich “crown jewel” of the empire.10
Even the most nervous state ofﬁcials relaxed a bit. The Justice Ministry’s 1932
survey of “dangerous thought” called the Manchurian Incident a “divine wind” at atime of intense social ferment. In May 1932 the Army Ministry concluded that theincident had nurtured a new “spirit of solidarity” in place of social confrontation.
The takeover of Manchuria marked a watershed in the history of Japanese foreignand domestic policy. But far from stabilizing the borders of empire, it initiated a newera of expansionism. And far from stabilizing politics and society at home, it was
followed by yet another outburst of violence. On May 15, 1932, a group of young
naval ofﬁcers assassinated Inukai Tsuyoshi, the seventy-six-year-old prime ministerand Seiyūkai party president. Their actions would mark the end of parliamentary rulein imperial Japan.
These conspirators hoped to use violence to bring on martial law and policies of“national renovation.” They simultaneously attacked the Mitsubishi Bank, the Seiyūkai

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party headquarters, the home minister’s residence, and six power-generating stations.
But their attacks did not spark a larger rebellion.
Even so, the impact of their actions was something close to a coup d’état. Afterthe assassination, tense negotiations took place between the army and the leading“senior statesman,” Prince Saionji, over the choice of a new prime minister and cab­
inet. The military leaders included ofﬁcers who had been meeting regularly for several
years to promote related programs of expansion in Manchuria and reform at home.
They argued that “the fundamental causes [of such radical acts as assassinations] arepolitical, economic, and other social problems, and a thorough renovation is needed[to solve these problems].”11 To advance the cause of reform and to put in place leaders
who might restrain insurgent young ofﬁcers, they refused to allow the Seiyūkai party
to form a new cabinet even though it retained its Diet majority. On May 26, Admiral
Saitō Makoto took ofﬁce as prime minister of a national unity cabinet with just ﬁve
party men among the ﬁfteen ministers. The remaining ten were top military men andbureaucrats.
Over the next several years, these leaders did little to restore discipline in the
military and less to reverse the expansionist direction of Japan’s foreign policy. An
escalating logic drove Japanese strategy forward. Western and Chinese challenges tothe new Japanese gains were presented to the public by government leaders as justi­
ﬁcation for further Japanese expansion in China. One example came in February 1933
when the League of Nations accepted the Lytton Report, a document prepared several
months earlier that condemned Manchukuo as an illegitimate puppet state. The League
called for a multilateral conference to demilitarize the region. Japanese diplomats
responded with a deﬁant outcry. They portrayed Japan as a martyr on a hostile stageof world opinion. Japan withdrew from the League of Nations in March 1933.
Clashes with Chinese forces continued on the southern ﬂank of Manchukuo, andthe Kwantung Army pressed forward. By May 1933 it had annexed the province ofJehol (Rehe) and made it part of Manchukuo. Japan’s virtual colony now extended as
far as the Great Wall of China, a mere forty miles from Peking. Over the next two
years, with the support of the cabinet in Tokyo, Japanese forces used border clashes
and anti-Japanese activism as grounds to nibble away at Nationalist control of China’s
northern heartland. In June 1935 the Kwantung Army forced the Chinese Nationalist
government to withdraw all troops from the region south of the Great Wall, including
the key cities of Beijing and Tianjin. In November the Japanese further weakened
Nationalist control by setting up a puppet government under a Chinese warlord toadminister this strategic region. These actions set the stage for further conﬂicts in
China.
They also increased tensions with the Western powers. Britain and the UnitedStates both supported the League of Nations in condemning the takeover. Althoughsome American businesses hoped to work with Japan to invest in the region, the U.S.
government continued to refuse to recognize Manchukuo. For its part, the Japanesenavy became increasingly frustrated by the trilateral naval arms limitations renewedin 1930. The Japanese government abrogated this agreement in December 1934. An
emergency three-power conference in London the following December failed to save
it. The government authorized a major buildup of naval forces. It simultaneously

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decided to support a military capable of “defending in the north” (Soviet Union, theUnited States, and China) even while “advancing to the south” (Southeast Asia).
As they developed policies for the new Manchurian state, Japan’s rulers also
revised their strategies toward the older colonies of Korea and Taiwan. They no longer
believed it enough to seek local stability and local proﬁts. They redeﬁned these col­onies as places where human and material resources should be mobilized to support
the expanding empire. In Korea beginning in 1931, Ugaki Kazushige took ofﬁce as

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governor general. He launched ambitious and harsh economic and social policies. In
the agrarian sector, the colonial regime pushed farmers to plant cotton and raise sheep
to supply material for Japanese industry rather than food for the local population.
Ugaki’s regime also encouraged Japanese industrialists to invest in mining of strategicore and metals, electric power generation, chemical (explosives) and fertilizer pro­duction, and the production of iron and steel. Some Korean entrepreneurs were able
to found proﬁtable industries as well. But regardless of the ownership, most industries
drew on Korea’s inexpensive labor supply to feed products and resources to Japan’s
own increasingly militarized economy. To mobilize human resources, Ugaki pushedforward an increasingly coercive program of ethnic assimilation in the schools. He
expanded compulsory Japanese language instruction and sharply limited the teachingof Korean language in schools. By the late 1930s, Korean had been banned entirely.
Colonial rulers similarly shifted their strategic view of Taiwan. The governor
general there had set up the semipublic Taiwan Development Company in 1936,
mainly to promote sugar cane production on the island for export to Japan. In the late
1930s, the Development Company, already Taiwan’s largest enterprise by far, redeﬁned
its mission to include industrial investment in nearby provinces along the coast of
China proper, as well as islands toward the south. Authorities also cracked down ona political movement for home rule that had been tolerated in the 1920s.
Such projects of strategically focused, state-supported investment mirrored Japan’s
economic strategy in its new prize of Manchukuo. From 1932 through 1936 the Man­chukuo government created one monopoly corporation in each of twenty-six key in­
dustries from mining and shipping to aircraft production. These were funded by a
combination of state and private Japanese investment. The government in Tokyo wasconvinced that the world was breaking up into mutually hostile armed camps. It
therefore treated the colonies in general, and Manchukuo in particular, as components
of a self-sufﬁcient trading bloc. Government bureaucrats and military leaders tended
to see free-market capitalism as wasteful and immoral; they treated the Manchurianstate above all as a laboratory in which to devise a new strategy of state-led economic
development.

TOWARD A NEW SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC ORDER
The invasion of Manchuria coincided with, and partly caused, dramatic changes in Japan’s domestic economy. From 1931 to 1934 industrial output rose 82 percent, as Japan
recovered from the depression far faster than the Western economies. The volume of ex­
ports outside the empire nearly doubled from 1930 to 1936. Japan not only became theworld’s leading exporter of cotton goods. A newly diverse mix of products also madeits way to American department stores and Asian marketplaces, ranging from toys andtires to bicycles and simple electrical machinery. All told, the economy grew by about
50 percent from 1930 to 1936. In 1937 one of the nation’s most important economists,
Arisawa Hiromi, described the 1930s as a time of “economic miracle.” By 1938 em­
ployers were complaining of labor shortages and wages rose substantially.
The cause of this economic leap forward was twofold. First, the Japanese yen fell
dramatically in value when the ﬁnance minister, Takahashi Korekiyo, took the nation
off the gold standard. This allowed the yen to plummet in value: One dollar purchased

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two yen in late 1931; a year later, the same dollar could buy ﬁve yen worth of goods.
As a result, Japanese exports won new markets. They also won angry criticism. Amer­ican and European competitors condemned what they called “social dumping.” They
blamed the export surge not on the exchange rate but on low wages paid to exploited
workers, and numerous nations raised tariffs or imposed quotas on Japanese goods.
In the eyes of many Japanese people, these objections validated the opinion of militaryleaders who had been arguing for some time that Japan needed to carve out a selfsufﬁcient empire in a hostile world.
The second factor behind the 1930s boom was Japan’s precocious discovery outof practical necessity of what came to be called Keynesian economic policy. In 1936
the famous British economist John Maynard Keynes published his General Theory of
Employment, Interest and Money, which argued that deﬁcit spending could “prime thepump” and spark renewed growth in a lagging economy. Four years before this, Fi­nance Minister Takahashi Korekiyo undertook such a policy without beneﬁt of
Keynes’s book.12 He approved major deﬁcit spending to ﬁnance the expanded cost of
empire in Manchuria. His so-called red-ink bonds functioned, as Keynes would soon
predict, to stimulate the economy. Government spending particularly beneﬁted heavy
and chemical industries that produced arms and supported major construction projects
in Korea and Manchuria. These producer goods industries expanded even faster thanthe consumer goods manufacturing aided by the cheaper yen.13 By 1937 the military
budget accounted for an extraordinary three-fourths of all central government outlays,
up from roughly one-third in 1930.
These economic advances took place under the shadow of what the authorities
called the “time of emergency.” With Westerners building tariff walls and condemning
the Manchurian takeover and with the Chinese boycotting Japanese goods, the belief
that the nation faced unprecedented crisis served to justify all sorts of new programs
that changed the relationship of the state to the larger society.
In the economic sphere, the years of depression and recovery witnessed the birthin Japan of what later came to be called industrial policy. This heightened state in­volvement in orchestrating economic activity was a central component of the transwar
political and economic system. Beginning in the late 1920s a group of bureaucrats in
the Ministry of Commerce formulated plans to organize economic activity in what
they expected to be a more rational fashion. This ministry had been created in 1925,
split off from the existing Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce to encourage a more
intensive government focus on the industrial economy. In 1930 the ministry set up
the Industrial Rationalization Bureau. Its mission was to reduce what it considered
the wasteful excesses of free competition by promoting trusts and cartels. The bureau
took a major ﬁrst step by writing the Important Industries Control Law, passed by theDiet in 1931. The measure legalized the creation of industry-wide cartels that could
ﬁx members’ output, prices, market shares, and conditions of entry. Within several
years, twenty-six cartels had been established in industries such as coal mining, elec­
tric power, shipbuilding, and textiles.
A deep-rooted distrust of the free market drove these reforms forward. Japan’s
state ofﬁcials, both civilian and military, had long feared that unregulated proﬁtseeking would lead to investments that might serve the zaibatsu owners but not thenational interest, as they deﬁned it. The “nation,” for example, might require electric

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power stations to serve rural areas, but capitalists would not build these if the rural
consumers were poor. The world depression seemed to conﬁrm the bureaucracy’s
worst fears: Unreformed capitalism seemed both economically ineffective and sociallydamaging. At the same time, ofﬁcials were neither willing nor able to replace theprivate sector with full state control. They were groping toward a mode of economic
policy somewhere between the rigidly planned, state-run socialism of the Soviet Unionand the laissez-faire economic liberalism of the United States or Britain, which would
continue through the war and well into the postwar era.
With their new policies of the early 1930s, state ofﬁcials sought to orchestrateeconomic decisions more carefully and centrally. But, by fostering cartels controlled
by the largest corporations they ironically left the baton in the hands of the zaibatsu
chiefs. The government then began to intervene more directly. In 1936, against intense
business and political party opposition, the bureaucrats and generals who controlled
the cabinet pushed through a law to nationalize the electric power industry. In 1937
the army and the bureaucracy began the practice of producing Five-Year Plans tar­geting certain industries for growth and channeling capital in their direction. Also in
1937, several existing bureaus were merged into a superagency called the Cabinet
Planning Bureau. These bureaucrats comprised what one scholar has called Japan’s“economic general staff.” It was now working closely with the general staff of themilitary as well as the zaibatsu captains of industry, although the latter continued toresist intrusive state regulation of their ﬁrms.14
The military also supported several new business combines in hopes of nurturing
sympathetic private sector allies, especially in the development of Manchuria. These
were called the “new zaibatsu,” a group of conglomerates centered in heavy andchemical industries. They beneﬁted greatly from military demand, and some, such as
Chisso Chemical Fertilizer and Shōwa Denkō, grew to be industry leaders and sur­
vived the war. The new zaibatsu were particularly dominant in Korea. But they did
not have their own banks, and in fact the established old zaibatsu constituted the major
source of direct investment in Manchuria throughout the 1930s. In this fashion, in­dustrialists old and new followed the ﬂag and moved into business in Manchuria inclose collaboration with the military and civilian bureaucracy.
The state reached more closely than ever into agrarian society as well. As withindustrial policy, the depression was a major catalyst of new approaches toward ag­
riculture. In addition, the government’s concern to reorganize agrarian as well as
industrial society would continue through the war and into the postwar era. As prices
crashed from 1929 through the early 1930s, both tenant farmers and small owners
had to borrow funds to pay rent or tax bills. A government estimate in 1932 placed
total farm debt at one-third the gross national product. The cabinet responded bydramatically boosting its outlays for rural public works to generate employment. The
government also promoted debt relief with laws to provide emergency credit and help
farmers reﬁnance loans. These state programs were notable for their effort to aid
middling farmers, including tenants, as well as the landlords whose political powerand social prestige had long dominated village life.
Such measures were justiﬁed by a rhetoric of agrarian nationalism that equatedJapanese national strength with harmonious, united villages. Farm-loving philosophers
blamed the cities and unfettered capitalism for the crisis of the village. Such views

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had motivated the young ofﬁcers who had assassinated Prime Minister Inukai in 1932.
They also stimulated a new effort of the Ministry of Agriculture to go beyond public
works and debt relief. Beginning in 1932, the ministry threw its resources behind theCampaign for Economic Revitalization, which stressed the need to revive a spirit ofcooperation in rural Japan and condemned Western-style individualism spreading fromurban centers for eroding rural solidarity. Agrarianist rhetoric moved away from afocus on class conﬂicts to a focus on the city-country split. To strengthen the coun­tryside, the revitalization campaign proposed a wide range of measures, such as in­dustrial cooperatives, crop diversiﬁcation, techniques for cost accounting, and longrange community planning. The campaign leaders, at both national and local levels,
condemned farmers for making decisions based on superstitious belief in unlucky daysor directions. They called instead for more rational and scientiﬁc farm management.
Thousands of villages signed on to the campaign, and the government sought out andpublicized model villages for the rest to follow.15
The combination of a traditionalist rhetoric of rural solidarity and modernizing
strategies of better farm management was a striking feature of the drive to revitalize
rural Japan. This mix echoed social reform projects of earlier decades. As in the 1920s,
the rural reformers offered particular hopes to women and promised them new roles.
Women were exhorted to improve kitchen design and hygiene and to organize every­
day life more efﬁciently and scientiﬁcally. These responsibilities amounted to a sig­
niﬁcant public role in the community. Many responded to the campaigns withenthusiasm.
In both industrial and agrarian policy, the state appeared to be tightening its
control of the larger society. But this appearance is somewhat deceiving. Bureaucrats
left much authority in the hands of zaibatsu owners, and self-proclaimed leaders ofthe village retained great autonomy. The leaders of the revitalization campaign in­cluded small landholders as well as major landlords, men as well as women. The state
had increased the range of its concerns and activity, but as of the mid-1930s it func­
tioned mainly as an orchestrator of efforts by existing social organizations, rather thanas dictator.
Some signs of a far more visible ofﬁcial hand in social matters were unmistakable,
however. This is evident in the government’s changed treatment of labor. The Home
Ministry as well as the Minseitō had promoted unions as potential sources of stability
in the 1920s. The ministry continued to tolerate them in the early 1930s, especiallywhen the Sōdōmei federation adopted a new platform for the time of emergency, which
repudiated strikes and promised cooperation to raise output and improve work con­ditions. But the government soon shifted its view of the best way to maintain orderand mobilize working people to serve the state.
In late 1936 the army, fearing an “anti-fascist front” of unions and proletarian
parties in military plants, forced eight thousand arsenal workers to withdraw from theSōdōmei’s union of government employees. Key military men and bureaucrats for­mulated a nonunion strategy for labor-management peace and stepped up production.
By 1937 they decided to institute a nationwide network of “discussion councils” inall workplaces. These were to be composed of worker and manager representatives
who would cooperate to prevent conﬂict. Such plans consciously drew on fascist
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had created advisory Councils of Trust in all German factories of twenty or more
employees. Although the Japanese planners played down their debt to the German
model, both programs sought a classless national community, and both replaced unionswith advisory, universal plant councils. Both waxed eloquent on the organic harmony
and unity of an industrial “shop community” based on mythic village, folk, or familymodels. The Japanese boosters of industrial peace repudiated liberalism and classstruggle. They afﬁrmed a literally “corporate” view of the enterprise, which would be
echoed through the war and in the postwar era as well. Companies were communities
in which all members, equal before the emperor, had equally valuable vocations. In afavorite metaphor of the times, labor and management were likened to the two wingsof a bird. After several years of planning, in July 1938 the government created thePatriotic Industrial Service Federation to promote councils throughout Japan.

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Parallel to its expanded role in the economy and society, the state moved to control
political life more tightly. One sign of this shift was the nationwide Election Puriﬁ­
cation Campaign. Beginning in 1935 the Home Ministry spearheaded this drive toeliminate ofﬁcial corruption such as bureaucratic favoritism for a party’s candidate
and party corruption such as vote-buying. The movement combined a public relations
campaign for “election puriﬁcation” with closer police monitoring of elections. By
1937, the drive to “purify” elections had gone beyond these relatively neutral formsof supervision. The Home Ministry intervened more directly to make sure that can­didates of all parties mobilized popular sentiment for state objectives. In the Home
Minister’s words, “under constitutional government the people bear an important re­sponsibility to assist imperial rule . . . with the vote they cast.”16 Police interrupted
election speeches regularly to prevent any utterance that set the people in opposition
to either the military or the bureaucracy. Any speaker who criticized “fascism” or evenmentioned a “gap between the military and the people” was sure to be given a warningor halted outright.
Puriﬁcation campaigns did not lead Japan’s voters to reject the mainstream parties
at the polls. Women’s organizations, for example, both strongly supported the cam­paigns while continuing to back the mainstream parties. Throughout the 1930s, theMinseitō and Seiyūkai never won less than a combined total 90 percent of the votes
and seats in national elections. Even so, party inﬂuence was receding. Voting rates
fell sharply by the mid-1930s. As few as 60 percent of eligible voters went to thepolls in urban districts. Unlike the 1910s and 1920s, few voices defended “normal”
constitutional government. No rallies were held to protest the fact that nonparty gov­
ernments ruled, even when elections produced strong party majorities. Under ﬁve
nonparty prime ministers between 1932 and 1937, cabinets were made up of increased
numbers of bureaucrats and military men, and ever fewer professional politicians.
Admiral Saitō’s ﬁrst nonparty cabinet of the “era of emergency” placed one-third of
the ministries in the hands of party politicians. The cabinets of Admiral Okada Keisuke(1934–36) and the career diplomat Hirota Kōki (1936–37) included just ﬁve and fourparty men, respectively. By the time of the cabinets formed by General Hayashi Sen­

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jūrō (1937) and Prince Konoe Fumimaro (1937–39), Diet representatives held just one
and two portfolios.
As military men and bureaucrats consolidated power at the apex of the politicalorder, they felt little need to intimidate party leaders with drastic steps such as arrests
or violence. Most politicians supported the moves toward expansion abroad, either
before the fact or afterward. They sought to protect their jobs and the interests of theirconstituents, the zaibatsu leaders and landlords in particular, by cooperating with the
new rulers rather than resisting. They were fairly successful in these efforts. The parties
managed to delay or weaken a number of military proposals—such as the nationali­
zation of strategic industries—that would have compromised the autonomy of businessleaders. The mainstream political parties were on the defensive, but they still won
elections and mediated between bureaucrats and the military on one hand and theirorganized constituents on the other. They were out of power, but not powerless.
One new political trend of the 1930s was the emergence of a uniﬁed politicalparty that spoke on behalf of the lower classes. In 1932 leading socialists such as Abe
Isoo and Asō Hisashi founded the Social Masses Party (SMP). It united most of thesmall, competing “proletarian parties” that had emerged with universal male suffragein 1925. By 1936–37, its candidates were winning considerable support in local andnational elections. It sent eighteen men to the Diet in 1936 and won thirty-seven seatsand 9 percent of the vote in the 1937 election. In a number of key races in multi­
member, urban districts in 1937, the SMP candidates placed ﬁrst with well over 20
percent of the vote.
When neither mainstream party won a Diet majority in the 1937 election, the
SMP held a potentially decisive “swing bloc” that it might have used to build a
coalition with one party or the other. Instead, it moved closer to the ruling military.
The ground for this convergence was a shared distrust for capitalism and the “selﬁsh”
interest-seeking of the established parties. The SMP sought to ride the tiger of au­
thoritarian rule to win support for its programs to defend the masses. It called for
local reforms such as rent controls and lower utility prices and national measures suchas health insurance, pensions, and protective laws for workers. It styled this as aplatform for “a prosperous populace to perfect national defense.”17 The SMP accepted
the proposition that Japanese control of Manchuria, and later of China itself, served
the cause of ethnic self-determination against the West.
The most crucial features of politics in the 1930s were continued turbulence
within the military and the rising power of the army over the bureaucracy, the court,
and the parties. The two trends were related. One reason for the move away fromparty cabinets was the belief among the senior statesmen that only military leaders
could control the hotheads in the ranks. From the late 1920s through 1936, many ofthe most radical military men clustered in the Imperial Way faction (kōdō-ha). Theseofﬁcers and some civilian sympathizers wanted to eliminate the inﬂuence not only ofparties and zaibatsu but also of status quo–minded senior statesmen and court ﬁgures.
They stressed the importance of spiritual education and loyalty to the emperor as
foundations of national strength. Younger activists in this group enjoyed support at
the very top from people such as Araki Sadao, especially during Araki’s term as army
minister from 1932 to 1934.

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Imperial Way sympathizers were responsible for numerous acts of terror, fromthe assassinations of political and business leaders in 1930–32 to the assassination of
opponents within the military itself. With supporters in high places, the assassins
occasionally were allowed to use the witness stand as a platform to advertise theirpure motives and high ideals. These showcase trials won favorable press and popular
sympathy. One notorious example was the 1935 trial of Aizawa Saburō, a young
ofﬁcer in the Imperial Way group who shot a top-ranked army planner, Nagata Tet­suzan. Aizawa was enraged that his leader, General Araki, had been recently pushedaside by ofﬁcers more committed to economic and material modernization than spir­
itual education.
Nagata was identiﬁed with the nemesis of the Imperial Way ofﬁcers, a group
dubbed the Control Faction (tōsei-ha). These were usually more senior ofﬁcers, in­cluding General Tōjō Hideki. They preferred to collaborate with existing elites. They
rejected terrorist violence, but they were hardly moderate in other ways. They wanted
to concentrate power in military hands and mobilize society for an impending total
war.
Conﬂict between the two groups came to a ﬁnal head in the most shocking po­
litical upheaval of the prewar era. On the snowy morning of February 26, 1936, aboutﬁfteen hundred army troops loyal to Imperial Way leaders such as Araki took overcentral Tokyo. They sent squads to murder most of the cabinet, and former Prime
Minister Saitō, as well as opponents in the military and among high court advisors.
They demanded that the senior statesmen appoint a sympathetic prime minister andother new leaders. Their vague plans called for a Shōwa restoration—a phrase chosen
to suggest comparable ambitions to the Meiji restoration. They wanted to restore
Japan’s glory by honoring the emperor, defending the empire, and improving the lotof common people.
Prime Minister Okada survived the coup by hiding in a storage shed in his home.
The rebels killed his brother-in-law, thinking it was Okada. They also murdered Saitō
and Takahashi Korekiyo, the venerable party politician and incumbent ﬁnance minister,and the army’s inspector general of military education. But their larger plan collapsed,despite some high-level support, when the emperor sharply condemned their action
and issued an order for them to surrender. This time there were no show trials. Nine­
teen leaders of the conspiracy were tried and executed swiftly and secretly. Although
the coup failed, the army emerged stronger than ever. Its leaders ﬁnally mustered thedetermination to purge the ranks of assassination-minded radicals. Bureaucrats andcivilian politicians were terriﬁed by the coup. They welcomed the promise of a moredisciplined military.
In the context of this shifting domestic power balance and the escalating tensions
with China and the West, the military and bureaucratic rulers of the 1930s imposed
ever harsher restrictions on acceptable beliefs. Communism and Marxism had long
been anathema to Japanese elites. In addition to the roundup of communist politicalactivists in the late 1920s, left-wing literary ﬁgures were targeted. Kobayashi Takiji,
an eloquent writer of proletarian ﬁction who held potential to transcend the limitationsof this often heavy-handed genre, was murdered in jail in 1933.18
By the mid-1930s, even rather conservative ideas that had previously commandedwide support came under ﬁre. The most famous such attack came in 1935. It was

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directed at Minobe Tatsukichi, a well-respected legal scholar at Tokyo Imperial Uni­
versity. His so-called organ theory held that because the emperor’s role was deﬁned
in the constitution, he was an organ within the state structure, rather than a sacredsource of legitimacy that stood outside and above the state. For several decades, thisinterpretation had been taught to students at the elite imperial universities with little
serious dissent. But in the hypercharged atmosphere of the 1930s “time of crisis,” anumber of scholars and military ﬁgures associated with the Imperial Way group con­demned Minobe as the author of “treasonous works” for expressing this opinion. The
affair peaked in 1935 with virulent attacks on Minobe in the House of Peers (where
he was an appointed member). One member condemned him as “an academic tramp.”19
Both houses of the Diet censured Minobe. He was accused of slandering the emperor(lèse-majesté). Although Minobe was never convicted of this crime, several of his
works were banned for “being contrary to the true meaning of the national polity,”and he was harassed into resigning from the House of Peers.
Other far from radical victims of the increasingly intolerant political climate in­cluded Takikawa Yukitoki and Kawai Eijirō. Like Minobe, both were university pro­fessors. Takikawa was attacked for his liberal views by right-wing ideologues in 1932.
The minister of education bent to this pressure and forced him to resign his Kyoto
University position the next year. Kawai was a student of British liberal philosophy.
He was indicted in 1938 for violating publication laws and importing “dangerous”
Western ideas. In addition, the new religions, which had already come under ﬁre in
the 1920s, suffered greater persecution than ever. A number of groups, including theŌmoto religion in 1934, the Tenri religion in 1938, and the Jehovah’s Witnesses in
1940, were charged with various crimes and disbanded.20
The ambivalent democratic ideas of the 1920s had justiﬁed constitutional govern­
ment and popular participation as the means to uphold emperor and empire. The
narrower orthodoxy of the 1930s exalted the emperor as transcendent. In 1937 theMinistry of Education promulgated a famous manifesto throughout the school system.
It was titled “The Cardinal Principles of the National Polity” (Kokutai no hongi). It
blamed Japan’s social and ideological crisis on Western beliefs ranging from individ­
ualism to communism. In place of such ideas, it asserted that “serving the Emperor
and accepting the Emperor’s august will as one’s own” should be the basic principles
of social life and morality. It exalted loyalty and military spirit as the nation’s corevalues and the hierarchical family system as its core institution.
In these varied ways, the shadows of censorship and rigid orthodoxy overspreadpolitical life. So-called traditional Japanese virtues were celebrated to an extreme de­gree. But it is important to recognize that the social and material life of ordinary
Japanese people remained essentially modern in many respects, and quite receptive toWestern inﬂuence even after the outbreak of full-scale war with China in 1937. In
some cases the state collaborated with existing organizations, such as the zaibatsudominated business federations or rural mutual aid societies. In other cases it spon­sored new organizations such as patriotic labor associations and the Women for Na­
tional Defense. In all cases it continued the modern effort to organize society into
discrete functional groups.
The mechanization of material culture likewise proceeded apace, especially in
middle-class homes. Hair salons spread throughout Japanese cities, offering perma­I MPER IA L JA P A N FR O M A SC E N D A N CE T O AS HE S

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A 1933 Tokyo street scene conveys a sense of the continued modernization of the cityscape:taller new ofﬁce buildings and streets ﬁlled with cars, streetcars, and pedestrians. The Tokyo
subway system also began service in these years.

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nents (paamonentu) to thousands of middle-class women. By 1939 there were about
850 such hair salons in Tokyo alone. Many businesses and a fair number of private
homes signed up for telephone service; nationwide, the number of subscribers nearly
doubled from 550,000 in 1926 to 982,000 in 1937. City streets began to ﬁll with buses
and taxis, and a few private autos competed with bicycles, streetcars, and pedestrians.
The nation’s ﬁrst subway line opened in Tokyo in 1927 to great fanfare, and the ﬁrst
Osaka subway began service in 1933. By 1939 three lines curved beneath the maincommercial and shopping districts of the capital.
A varied popular culture continued to ﬂourish. Radios became a ﬁxture of middleclass life. In 1932 as many as 26 percent of urban households owned radios, althoughless than 5 percent of rural homes could receive broadcasts. By 1941, 6.6 million
radio receivers brought news and entertainment over the airwaves to over 45 percent
of all households in Japan.21 Radio broadcasts as well as victrolas boosted the popu­
larity of jazz and Western classical music as well as Japanese popular songs andmilitary marches. Brilliant ﬁlmmakers, such as Ozu Yasujirō, began to produce hit
movies featuring stories of the lives of ordinary people, while others turned out everpopular samurai battle epics. Hollywood productions drew equal if not greater crowds.
Charlie Chaplin’s May 1932 visit to Japan was the focus of huge popular interest,
even though it coincided with the assassination of Prime Minister Inukai. Japan’s ﬁrst
professional baseball teams began to compete in 1934. That same year, thousands of

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people thronged to see the great Babe Ruth play with an American team in eighteen
exhibition games in twelve major cities during a monthlong tour. A capacity crowdof sixty-ﬁve thousand jammed Jingu Stadium in Tokyo for the ﬁrst game. Such be­havior makes it clear that many people responded to moralistic condemnations ofWestern culture with lukewarm enthusiasm or frosty disregard.
In sum, the 1930s in Japan witnessed a rise of “traditionalism.” One can deﬁne
this as the loudly propagated belief that time-honored, quintessentially Japanese prac­
tices and ideals should be touchstones for morality and action. Yet these years did not
see an actual return to an earlier, traditional society. Popular culture remained cos-

The February 1936 cover of Japan’s best-known magazine of satirical art and commentary,Tokyo Puck. Published just before the February 26 attempted coup d’état, the cover makes
fun of military inﬂuence in everyday life. The object of the cartoonist’s pen appears to be
two European, probably British, women who treat militarism as just another fashion trend.
But the tone of the articles inside reveals a critical view that also extends to the militariza­tion of Japanese society.
Courtesy of Mr. Ono Kosei and Kawasaki Municipal Museum.

I MPER IA L JA P A N FR O M A SC E N D A N CE T O AS HE S

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American major league baseball players came to Japan for a round of exhibition games withJapanese teams in 1934. Here Babe Ruth stands with Japanese star pitcher Date Masao.
Baseball remained extremely popular throughout the 1930s and during the Paciﬁc War, de­spite ofﬁcial efforts to restrict the sport.

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mopolitan and lively. Material culture incorporated new global trends. Even the newly
dominant political forces of the 1930s had been put in place as part of Japan’s Meiji
revolution. A renovated imperial institution, a meritocratic and proud bureaucracy withhigh aspirations to manage society, and a technically advanced and efﬁcient military
had been emblems of the modern nation since the 1880s.
To recognize such continuities is not to deny change. The cumulative weight ofa politics of assassination, repression, and military-bureaucratic rule, a shrill cultural
orthodoxy, and unilateral expansionism on the continent amounted to a sharp change
in the character of Japan’s modern experience. This change would have tragic con­sequence for millions.
Should we sum this up by calling the 1930s the era of an emerging Japanesefascism? I would say yes, although other historians disagree. But in thinking about
the history of these times, we should not be snarled by a deﬁnitional tangle. It is notthat important whether one labels the Japanese political order of the 1930s “fascist”
or “militarist.” It is more important to note that the dynamics and outcomes of politicaland cultural life in Japan shared much with the experience of the fascist states ofEurope.
One can identify in the German, Italian, and Japanese experiences a common
response of a second generation of modernizing nations. European fascist models

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inspired the men who came to rule Japan in the 1930s. Rulers in all three nations
shared the objective of funneling the energies of a gloriﬁed national body (whether
the “Volk” or the Yamato race) into a quest for military hegemony, a closed economic
empire, and an anti-democratic, hierarchic domestic politics, culture, and economy.
The Japanese and Italian rulers, and even Hitler to a lesser extent, also shared theinability ﬁnally to dissolve all existing plural bases of political and economic power
into a totalitarian system.
Certainly there were important differences between these nations as well. A fascist
party never came to power in Japan. No ﬁgure emerged with charisma or longevity
comparable to that of Hitler or Mussolini. But the process that produced these regimes
shared a great deal. They all experienced economic crisis, sharp polarization of left
versus right, intense conﬂicts in industrial workplaces and rural society, and murderous
right-wing terror. In each case a perception took root among intellectuals and thepolitical elite that a cultural malaise gripped the nation. Fear spread that establishedgender roles were breaking down. Elite and popular opinion in each case held that
Anglo-American power blocked the nation’s legitimate international aspirations toempire. The problems facing Japan in the 1930s ultimately were not those of mono­
lithic homogeneity or a feudalistic society and beliefs. They were the problems of
coping with modern diversity and tension. The nation’s response to these problems
led to the catastrophe of war and sparked a postwar revulsion for fascism and mili­tarism. But programs of political and economic reform and mobilization also set inmotion enduring transwar changes in industrial, agrarian, and social policy.

12Japan in Wartime

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On the night of July 7, 1937, Japanese troops engaged in a minor skirmish with
Chinese soldiers in the vicinity of the Marco Polo Bridge just south of Beijing. On
July 11 a local cease-ﬁre took effect. Even so, the Japanese government sent additional
troops from Korea and Manchuria. The Chinese challenged the Japanese positions,and further skirmishes took place. In late July Japanese forces attacked and occupied
Beijing and Tianjin. Within a month of the Marco Polo Bridge incident a full-scale
war was underway.

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It is not clear who ﬁred the ﬁrst shots at Marco Polo Bridge. But in contrast to theevents of the Mukden incident six years earlier, which sparked the takeover of Man­churia, it is clear that the Japanese cabinet under Prime Minister Konoe Fumimaro
authorized the decision to launch a major offensive. The army itself was divided
between expansionists and a minority who feared a protracted war and wished tonegotiate a cease-ﬁre. Konoe sided with the expansionists. They wanted to control theiron and coal resources in North China. They also believed that Chiang Kai-shek’s
Nationalist government would always remain a threat to Japan’s control of Manchuria
and North China. The expansionist faction hoped to destroy the Nationalist regime
and replace it with a friendly government.
Although he widened the war, Konoe initially sought to use military pressure tonegotiate a settlement with the Nationalists. In the fall of 1937, Japanese forces ex­
tended their control south from Beijing. They occupied the Shandong peninsula anda large portion of the Yellow River. Aided by the navy, Japanese troops also took
Shanghai. They then moved swiftly to occupy Nanjing by mid-December. But nego­tiations stalled. By early 1938, it was clear that the Nationalists would not recognize
the Japanese conquests. Despite the loss of China’s three major cities, Chiang Kai­
shek decided to withdraw to the west and continue a defensive war of resistance. In
response, Prime Minister Konoe announced a new goal in January 1938. He issued achilling call for a war to “annihiliate” the Nationalist regime.
Even as he spoke, one of the worst massacres in a century of horriﬁc acts of
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mass murder was underway in Nanjing. As Japanese troops entered the city in midDecember 1937, they began to round up civilians as well as surrendered soldiers. For
seven weeks, through the end of January, they murdered tens of thousands of thesepeople and raped countless women of all ages. The scope of the Nanjing Massacre
remains controversial. Some Japanese historians insist on “low” estimates of perhaps
forty thousand killed, while the Chinese government stands by a ﬁgure of three hun­dred thousand murders. A broadly accepted body count may never be reached, butthere is no denying that Japanese soldiers carried out massive acts of atrocity.
Explaining why this massacre took place is as difﬁcult as agreeing on a count of
the victims. Frontline soldiers were certainly embittered by tough ﬁghting en route to
Nanjing. They were frustrated at the blurred line between Chinese soldiers and civil­
ians, and they feared guerrilla attacks. They were also subject to harsh discipline. Like
soldiers everywhere, they were taught to hate a dehumanized enemy. That soldiers insuch circumstances might run amok and vent aggressive rage on civilians or disarmed
troops is sad but not surprising. One ﬁnds too many such examples in the modern
history of warfare.
The greater puzzle, and the greater crime, is that the Japanese high command in
Nanjing allowed the roundups, rapes, and killings to proceed for weeks on end. Au­
thorities in Tokyo were probably informed as well, but they took no decisive steps torein in the troops. It may be that high-level Japanese in both Nanjing and Tokyo,
frustrated at the inability to negotiate favorable terms, hoped that the example of thesemurders would destroy the Chinese will to resist. If so, they were as mistaken as they
were brutal.
Over the following months the Japanese army expanded its control by seizing
further key cities and railway lines. The military situation then reached a stalemate in
the fall of 1938. Japan had committed six hundred thousand troops to the ﬁeld, butthey were barely able to defend the cities and railway lines in the occupied regions.
The occupiers had little control over the countryside, and troops faced constant threatof guerrilla attack. Japanese forces murdered civilians as well as soldiers in numerous
other incidents throughout the course of the war, especially in North China. Terrorizing
the population in this way appears to have been part of a broader, ultimately failed
military strategy to “pacify” the Chinese people.
The Nationalist government eventually retreated to the far western city of Chong­qing, where it was protected from Japanese attack by mountains and sheer distance.
In addition, tensions with the Soviet Union erupted in a major—although little reported—series of battles in the summer of 1939 along the border of China and Mon­
golia, a region called Nomonhan. The better equipped Soviet forces overwhelmed theproud Kwantung Army. The Japanese lost about twenty thousand soldiers to battleﬁeld
death or illness, out of a total of slightly over sixty thousand troops.1
In the effort to better control the three hundred million Chinese in the occupied
areas, Japan created and recognized a new Chinese government to administer theseregions in March 1940. It was led by Wang Jingwei, a rival to Chiang in the Nationalist
movement. He shared with the Japanese a distrust of both the Soviet Union and theWestern powers. He justiﬁed collaboration with Japan’s military forces by claimingthat the two sides shared a vision of pan-Asian unity against these outside forces. But
the Japanese forced him to accept a humiliating “treaty” that undermined any claims

207Japan in Wartime

he might make to popular support. Wang’s regime remained weak. It depended onJapanese military backing for its survival.
Since the mid-1930s, a minority of strategists had warned that Japan should notoverextend its forces. It was Ishiwara Kanji, the planner of the Manchuria takeover,
who argued most forcefully at the highest levels that Japan lacked the resources tocontrol China. He feared the Soviet Union and the West above all. He consistently
urged the government to focus on building Manchuria while conserving strength todeal with these potential enemies. These views were not in favor. In the fall of 1937,
Ishiwara was shoved aside and relegated to a succession of minor posts. But his worst
fears came to pass. Japan’s rulers trapped their soldiers in the swamp of a continental
war. They were unwilling to retreat, but unable to overcome their foes.

TOWARD PEARL HARBOR

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Having failed to break the deadlock in China, Prime Minister Konoe resigned his
position in January 1939. Over the next eighteen months, three men in quick succes­
sion served as prime minister: the ultra-nationalistic career bureaucrat Hiranuma Kii­
chirō, followed by two military men, General Abe Nobuyuki and Admiral Yonai
Mitsumasa. They pursued a combination of strategies to break the China stalemate byisolating Chiang and destroying his will or ability to survive. With the West, they tried
diplomacy to induce the United States and Britain to recognize their position in China.
To the north their diplomats sought to neutralize the threat of the Soviet Union, thus
freeing the Kwantung Army forces for action in China. To the south, they consideredboth diplomatic and military steps to neutralize or eliminate the hold of the British
in Malaysia, the French in Indochina, and the Dutch in Indonesia. This was desirable
for two reasons. Japanese control of Southeast Asia would deliver strategic natural
resources such as oil, rubber, and tin to the military. It would also provide a base toencircle and attack the Chinese Nationalists.
As Hitler’s regime moved toward war in Europe, the Hiranuma government was
attracted to the idea of an alliance with Nazi Germany to counter both Soviet andWestern power in Asia. The ground had been prepared by the Anti-Comintern Pactof 1936. This committed Japan and Germany (Italy joined in 1937) to cooperate tooppose communism. Each state agreed to reach no agreements with the Soviet Union
without the other’s consent. Hitler violated this pact in August 1939 when he suddenly
announced a nonaggression treaty with Stalin. With the failure of his strategy of co­operation with Germany, Hiranuma’s credibility collapsed. Furious at Hitler’s betrayal,
he resigned as prime minister.
When Hitler invaded Poland and France the following month, the Abe and Yonai
cabinets pursued a course of neutrality in the European war and slightly shifted theaim of their diplomacy. They made tentative efforts to engage American and British
help to negotiate a settlement in China. But the army continued to press for an Axis
alliance. It forced Prime Minister Yonai to resign because he preferred to seek accom­
modation with the British and Americans.
At this point, in the summer of 1940, Prince Konoe Fumimaro returned to power
amid great elite and popular hope that he would provide strong leadership and con­struct a “New Order” abroad and at home. His lineage as an aristocrat close to the208

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imperial family gave him particular legitimacy at this time of crisis. His ﬁrst major
initiative came in September when he concluded the Tripartite Pact with Germany and
Italy. It committed the Axis powers to support each other against the United States,
should it enter the war. By this move, Japanese leaders hoped that the path to asouthern advance had been cleared. In June 1940 Hitler’s troops had entered Paris,and the Germans set up the collaborationist Vichy regime to rule over occupied France.
The Vichy government administered French colonies as well. The Tripartite Pact en­
abled the Japanese to negotiate an agreement with the Vichy authorities to station
troops in the northern region of the French colony of Indochina (Vietnam). It is doubt­
ful that an independent French government would have accepted the presence of Jap­
anese troops.
The response of the United States would determine whether Japan’s southern
advance might succeed. Tensions between the United States and Japan had been build­
ing for some time. Throughout the 1930s, the Americans supported Chinese selfdetermination with strong words, but they had committed no signiﬁcant resources to
the Nationalists. Some business interests hoped to cooperate with Japan in the eco­nomic development of Manchuria. But in July 1939, hoping to send a signal of resolvethat would deter Japanese expansion, Roosevelt broke off the Japanese-American com­
mercial treaty. This step freed the United States to place an embargo on exports toJapan, if deemed necessary.
When Japan moved into northern Indochina, the Americans indeed countered witha gradually expanding export embargo. This further provoked Japan’s war hawks. They
began to argue for a preemptive strike against the United States and its allies. Hitler
complicated these calculations when he broke his peace with Stalin and attacked theSoviet Union in June 1941. Japan chose not to join Hitler’s new war. Its goals in thesouth required peace in the north, and two months earlier, in April 1941, Konoe had
concluded a neutrality agreement with the Russians. He followed this by extending
Japan’s hold over Indochina, gaining Vichy permission to occupy the entire peninsulain July 1941. The agreement left Japan as the virtual ruler of the former French colony.
The Americans countered this advance with a strong and threatening move. Roo­sevelt immediately pulled together an international embargo that cut off all foreign oil
supplies to Japan. He also offered below-cost military supplies to the Chinese. Without
oil the Japanese government could not sustain its military or economy. It faced a
difﬁcult choice. It could agree to American conditions for lifting the embargo byretreating completely from China. Or it could follow the hawks and attack the UnitedStates and British, taking control of the Southeast Asian oil ﬁelds by force and hoping
to negotiate for a cease-ﬁre from that strengthened position.
For a time, it pursued both courses. Japanese diplomats sought in vain to negotiate
a formula for a partial retreat in China that might satisfy both their own reluctant
army and the United States. The Japanese military, meanwhile, drew up plans for abold attack that might force the Western powers to recognize its hegemony in Asia.
Diplomacy continued late into the fall of 1941, even as Konoe was replaced by GeneralTōjō Hideki. In the event of all-out war, the senior statesmen wanted a military leader
at the helm. In an unusual concentration of power, Tōjō simultaneously held positions
as army minister and prime minister.
By November it became clear to the key ﬁgures in the cabinet that a satisfactory209Japan in Wartime

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diplomatic agreement was impossible. Japan was willing to withdraw only from In­
dochina. The United States would accept no less than withdrawal from all of China,
except for Japan’s pre-1931 holdings in southern Manchuria. In a meeting before theemperor on November 5, the inner cabinet agreed that if a ﬁnal round of negotiations
did not win American acceptance of Japan’s position in Asia, the army would launcha major offensive to conquer the British and Dutch colonies of Southeast Asia andthe American possessions in the Philippines. The navy would carry out a simultaneous
attack on the American ﬂeet at Pearl Harbor. Last-minute negotiations indeed produced
no agreements. The Foreign Ministry intended to hand over a long memorandum
notifying the Americans that negotiations were terminated—in essence a declarationof war—just before the Pearl Harbor attack. It took Japan’s embassy staff in Wash­
ington so long to decode, translate, and type the memorandum that it was in fact
delivered just after the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941 (December 8 in
Japan).
Thus ended a complex set of diplomatic and military maneuvers. Japan had
plunged into a war that proved devastating for people throughout Asia. At key mo­ments Japanese leaders grievously miscalculated the consequences of their actions. In
1937 the majority of the Japanese military, as well as civilian bureaucrats, politicians,
intellectuals, and the press, failed to understand the force of nationalism in China,
which fueled Chinese resistance. Likewise, in 1940–41 prior to the Pearl Harbor at­tack, Japan’s leaders did not realize that the United States would be willing to cut off
trade with Japan to defend the British and Dutch colonies. In the fall of 1941, as they
made the decision for war, they understood well enough that American industrial
power made a prolonged war with the United States unwinnable, but they naively
convinced themselves that the Americans lacked the will to pursue such a war in
distant lands.
It is true that the American moves to block Japan’s advances in 1940 and 1941
conﬁrmed the views of those in Japan who saw war as inevitable. For this reason,some historians blame the Americans for taking steps that led to the war. But it is
difﬁcult to argue that a different American response would have avoided a war. If theAmericans had responded in conciliatory fashion, the logic of expansionism would
almost surely have led the Japanese military to view this as weakness and take further
aggressive steps. Japanese rulers were blind to the possibility that others would not
bend to their will. Begining in 1931, they consistently responded to tension on theborders of the empire by pushing forward rather than standing in place or stepping
back. Insofar as such tensions were virtually inevitable, the invasion of Manchuria set
in motion a chain of events that led inexorably to war.

THE PACIFIC WAR
The Paciﬁc War began with swift dramatic victories for the Japanese army and navy.
The attack on Pearl Harbor destroyed the heart of America’s Paciﬁc ﬂeet. Of its nine
battleships, six were destroyed entirely and two damaged seriously. A daring drive
down the Malay peninsula drove out the British and delivered Singapore to Japanesecontrol in February 1942. The campaign for the Philippines ended in victory by May.
American general Douglas MacArthur was forced to retreat to Australia. In these ﬁrst

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six months of the war, the Japanese also took Burma from the British. They secured
control of the sprawling possessions of the Dutch East Indies from Indonesia to Borneo
and the Celebes. They occupied the islands of the Central and South Paciﬁc (see map
on p. 205).
The Pearl Harbor attack has become enshrined in American memory as an im­
moral “sneak attack.” The Japanese apparently intended to provide minimal advancenotice, although not enough to allow the United States to prepare defenses in Hawaii.
In any case, American policymakers by late 1941 had ample evidence that the Japanese
were considering war and were likely to launch an attack soon, someplace in Asia.
In addition, at the time of the Russo-Japanese War in 1905, Japan had made good useof a surprise attack at Port Arthur. American military strategists in 1941 might haveanticipated a similar tactic, but the United States commanders in the Paciﬁc werecomplacent and ill prepared. Ironically enough, Western observers in 1905 praised theJapanese military for its brilliant strategy.
For all these reasons, condemnation of the mode of Japan’s attack rings rather
hollow today. At the time, however, anger at the tactic, and the devastating toll ofthirty-seven hundred Americans killed or wounded in a single day, sparked a ﬁerce
desire for revenge in the United States. “Remember Pearl Harbor” became the watch­words of the war, and reverberations echoed well into the postwar era in the form ofa stereotypical view of the Japanese as untrustworthy. At the time, anger at the attack
also allowed President Roosevelt to bring the United States into the war against the
Axis powers in Europe, something he had hesitated to do until that time in the faceof reluctant public opinion.
People in Japan greeted these victories with jubilation. The government and media
justiﬁed the campaign with grand claims that Japan was pursuing a war to return Asia
to Asian control. But a huge practical task faced the Japanese government. It suddenly
possessed a vastly expanded empire, roughly four thousand miles from north to southand six thousand miles from west to east. In what manner, and by what logic, would
it be ruled? In 1938 Prime Minister Konoe had proclaimed Japan’s intent to create a
New East Asian Order as an equal partnership of China and Japan. In 1940, as aprelude to the move into Indochina, the government expanded its vision to call for
creation of a Greater East Asia Coprosperity Sphere that included Southeast Asia. But
neither the military nor the bureaucracy had made extensive plans for consolidating
control of these new possessions.
Ofﬁcials improvised their strategy as they went along. They ruled the older col­onies more harshly than ever. In Korea the government-general mobilized students
into factories and imposed a massive migration on as many as four million adults.
They were forced to work as mine workers in Japan and as prison guards and laborers
building airstrips in China. Thousands of young women were sent throughout Asiaand forced to serve the sexual needs of soldiers. Taiwanese males were recruited intoa “volunteer corps” to provide military and support services operations in various
parts of Asia and the Paciﬁc. They in fact had little choice in the matter. Many of
those who remained on the island were mobilized into “public service brigades” towork in ﬁelds and factories.
The manner of rule varied in the newly conquered regions of Southeast Asia. In
a gesture toward anti-colonialism, Japan sponsored nominally independent states in211Japan in Wartime

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Burma, Thailand, and the Philippines, while Japanese occupying forces ruled Indo­china and Indonesia more directly. The government did not begin planning for a
Greater East Asia Ministry until the spring of 1942, and it founded the ministry in
November of that year. The ministry never became a powerful agency of integrated
control. Representatives of the ﬁve states that constituted the Coprosperity Sphere(Burma, Thailand, China under Wang Jingwei, the Philippines, and Manchukuo) held
just one Greater East Asia Conference, in Tokyo in November 1943. It was marked
by praise for pan-Asian solidarity and condemnation of Western imperialism, but few
practical plans to integrate or develop the region economically.
In practice, local Japanese military commanders dictated policy. They suppressedindependence movements directed at the Japanese themselves while nurturing antiWestern independence ﬁghters who pledged allegiance to Japan. The army sponsored
the Burma Independence Army, led by anti-British Burmese nationalists. They joined
forces with the Japanese troops that conquered Burma in early 1942, but by 1944 they
had turned against the Japanese colonial rulers with an underground resistance move­
ment. In similar fashion, the Japanese army recruited captured Indian soldiers in Sin­gapore into the India National Army. With grand promises to help him oust the British
from India, the Japanese army convinced a fervent Indian nationalist, Subhas Chandra
Bose, to lead this force. In the spring of 1944 his army of about ten thousand men
joined a Japanese force of more than eighty thousand for the disastrous Imphal Cam­paign, a drive from Burma across the border into India. The Japanese could not deliver
logistical support to these forces, and an estimated seventy-ﬁve thousand Japanese andIndian troops died of disease or in battle. In Vietnam, in contrast, the Japanese harshly
suppressed the Vietminh nationalist movement until the very end of the war. The army
also conﬁscated much of the Vietnamese rice harvest in 1944 for use by its troops in
the Philippines. This led directly to a famine that took almost one million lives.
Throughout the empire such cruel episodes squandered the goodwill that the Jap­
anese initially won by ousting the Western overlords on behalf of a grand vision of
Asian solidarity. Initial hopes among Indonesians, Filipinos, and Vietnamese that Japan
would forcefully promote national liberation were betrayed. Even so, the brief inter­
lude of Japanese control had an important long-run impact. Independence movements
organized during the war, whether with inconsistent Japanese aid or in the face ofJapanese repression, survived into the postwar era. They ultimately doomed the con­tinuing hopes of the French, Dutch, and British for a return to the prewar system ofcolonial control.
The Greater East Asia Coprosperity Sphere amounted to little in part because thetide of war turned quickly against Japan. The failure of Japanese forces to take theCoral Islands in May 1942 was followed by a major defeat in the battle for Midway
Island in June, just six months after Pearl Harbor. The Japanese navy lost four aircraft
carriers that were the core of its ﬂeet. The Americans and their allies then began along, grinding drive toward the Japanese home islands. Submarine and air attacks
devastated the Japanese merchant ﬂeet. This cut off the homeland from the empire
and crippled the domestic economy. The Americans largely ignored the huge land
forces entrenched in China, Indochina, and Indonesia. They concentrated on a twopronged drive across the Paciﬁc. General Douglas MacArthur pushed to retake thePhilippines from New Guinea, while the American navy under Chester Nimitz at­

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tacked strategic Japanese-held islands in the central Paciﬁc. The capture of Saipan in
July 1944 placed the main islands in range of American bombers. Japan’s air defenses
were helpless against high-ﬂying B-29s, which rained down ﬁre-bombs on civilian
homes as well as factories. The war was essentially lost at this point, a full year before
the Japanese surrender.

MOBILIZING FOR TOTAL WAR

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Parallel to their push for a New Order in East Asia, bureaucrats, military men, politicalactivists, and intellectuals issued loud calls for a New Order at home. A diverse as­sortment of men—and a few politicized women—looked above all to Prince Konoe
Fumimaro to unite varied actors and remake Japan. The New Order slogan came into
widespread use in 1938 during the time of Konoe’s ﬁrst cabinet. It pulled together
strands of thinking that had been emerging since the 1920s. Self-styled advocates of“renovation” sought to remake the economic, political, and social order. They wanted
to restructure industrial workplaces and agriculture and transform cultural life as well.
Advocates of a new order envisioned a ﬂowering of indigenous practices thatwould transcend those of the decadent West. Yet they pursued a path—sometimes
wittingly and sometimes not—with clear parallels to that of the Nazis in Germany
and the Fascisti in Italy. They sought to replace messy pluralism with central planningand control of the economy, authoritarian rule grounded in a single uniﬁed politicalparty, and ﬁrmer social discipline. Like Western fascists, they gloriﬁed mobilization
for war as the “mother of creation.” The pursuit of war was both catalyst of change
and the result of these changes.
The Economic New Order was the brainchild of “economic bureaucrats” andmilitary men centered in the Ministry of Commerce and the Cabinet Planning Board.
They worked together with intellectuals in the Shōwa Research Association—a thinktank close to Prince Konoe. One leading architect was the Ministry of Commerce
bureaucrat Kishi Nobusuke, who came to head the Munitions Ministry at the heightof the war (and would serve as prime minister in the late 1950s). Such people wanted
to replace messy competition and proﬁt-seeking with “rational” control of industry.
They believed industry should serve “public” goals of the state, not private goals ofcapital. They argued that depression and social conﬂicts were inevitable in free market
economies and undermined national strength. Only a state-controlled form of capital­
ism could resolve chronic conﬂict and crisis.
Economic controls were strengthened most dramatically under the Konoe cabinets
of June 1937 to January 1939 and July 1940 to October 1941. A key step came in1938 when the Diet ratiﬁed a National General Mobilization Law. It stipulated thatonce a “time of national emergency” was declared, the bureaucracy could issue anyorders necessary—without Diet approval—“to control material and human resources.”
To win passage of the law, Konoe promised that the China war did not constitute suchan emergency. But within one month of Diet approval, he nonetheless activated thelaw. The state had gained vast new authority to mobilize “material and human re­sources.” Few areas of social or economic activity remained outside the reach of thisorder.
The Konoe government used the Mobilization Law in 1941 to create one capstone213

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of the Economic New Order. This was the system of Control Associations brought
into being by the Important Industries Control Order. The order allowed the Ministryof Commerce to create supercartels called “control associations” in each industry.
These bodies were given power to allocate raw materials and capital, set prices, anddecide output and market share quotas. In practice, the presidents of zaibatsu ﬁrms
sat on the boards of each control association together with bureaucrats. By collabo­
rating with the state, big business managed to retain signiﬁcant authority over the
cartels and control associations.
Smaller businesses, too, retained some autonomy for several years after the Eco­nomic New Order was proclaimed, but in early 1943, the government created a uni­
form national system of industrial associations (called “unions”) with mandatory mem­bership. Thousands of small manufacturers were forced to pool resources into thesegroups and dissolve themselves as independent ﬁrms. These industrial unions usuallyshifted to military production. Small-scale textile manufacturers, for example, wereordered to put their machines in mothballs and produce parts for airplanes as subcon­
tractors for the giant industrial ﬁrms.
Advocates of top-down mobilization for economic efﬁciency and social orderpushed for a Labor New Order parallel to these economic reforms. Beginning in the
mid-1930s Home Ministry bureaucrats and police ofﬁcials had been planning to set
up factory-based councils of worker and management representatives. These were to
feed into a pyramidlike structure of regional and national federations.
In July 1938 the Home and Welfare ministries launched the nominally indepen­
dent and voluntary Federation for Patriotic Industrial Service (Sangyō hōkoku renmei,
or Sanpō). The few remaining unions almost all supported the war and cooperated
with managers already. They quietly coexisted with the federation. Many large com­panies joined the federation by renaming existing factory councils—founded in the
1920s as alternatives to unions—as Sanpō units. Owners of smaller factories, where
neither unions nor councils were previously in place, were reluctant to join the fed­
eration. It appeared a distraction at best and a threatening form of outside interference
at worst. The local police typically stepped in to force these factories to form Sanpō
units. By the end of 1939, nineteen thousand enterprise level units had been formed,
covering three million employees.
In 1940 under the second Konoe cabinet, the government took full control of thePatriotic Industrial Service Federation. It forced Japan’s ﬁve hundred remaining unions(360,000 members) to dissolve. It mandated that all workplaces in the nation were toform factory councils. By 1942 Sanpō consisted of some eighty-seven thousand fac­
tory level units that enrolled about six million employees.
Federation supporters hoped the councils would build morale and solidarity
among employers and employees as well as help expand production for the “holywar” in Asia. The model for this effort was the Nazi Labor Front put in place several
years earlier in Germany. In practice, the councils were greeted with apathy by em­
ployees. One man reported that “we basically slept through meetings” while anothercalled the councils “a complete waste of time.” Owners and managers similarly held
low expectations of the groups and gave them no authority. Sanpō was ultimately of
little value to wartime mobilization.2 It did, however, establish the precedent of in­cluding white-collar as well as blue-collar employees in workplace organizations. It

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offered ofﬁcial and high-proﬁle lip service to the belief that all employees were valued
members of the nation and the corporation. The postwar union movement would build
on—as well as transform—these wartime precedents.
Wartime mobilization severely restricted the autonomy of managers and employ­ees in several respects. Under the Mobilization Law after 1938, bureaucrats in the
Home and Welfare ministries worked with school principals to assign new graduates
to war industries. In 1941 as the war intensiﬁed and adult male employees were drafted
into the army, the government put a labor draft in place to replace these workers. It
authorized the conscription of adult males ages sixteen to forty and unmarried womenages sixteen to twenty-ﬁve. Over the following years roughly one million men andanother million adult women were drafted into workplaces. The women were typically
moved from domestic labor into the workplace, while the men were usually shiftedfrom a “peacetime” job into a munitions plant or other strategic industry. Between
1943 and 1945, three million Japanese schoolboys and schoolgirls were drafted intoplants producing for the war effort. Another one million Koreans and Chinese weresent from the continent to Japan and put to work in factories and mines under harshsupervision and dismal conditions.
Once on the job, employees had less and less freedom as the war progressed.
Between 1939 and 1941 the government—also under authority of the Mobilization
Law—issued a complex system of job registration and work passports that outlawed
job changes. Simultaneously, the state restricted wages with increasingly severe reg­ulations. Ofﬁcials wanted to help employers and slow inﬂation by stabilizing laborcosts.
The bureaucrats who devised these controls were moved in part by suspicion of
the free market. Their regulations declared that the employment relation was no longer
a contract between private parties. Rather, the primary obligation of managers andworkers alike was to the state. Bureaucrats hoped to improve morale and productivity
by forcing employers to offer a “living wage” that would rise with seniority to meetthe increased needs of older workers with families. By 1943 Welfare Ministry ofﬁcials
had forced managers at thousands of companies to rewrite their personnel rules. All
employees were to receive pay raises twice a year. Employers were given only limited
discretion to reward talented producers or penalize poor performers. By these rules,
the existing informal practice of giving seniority-linked raises to valued workers was
systematized and extended to millions of employees. The postwar union movement
would build on this reform.
The state also exercised more authority than ever in wartime agriculture, actingwith a similar bias against the free market. In 1939 the Ministry of Agriculture put
in place controls on rice prices and on the rents landlords could charge to tenants. As
with wage controls, the goals were to stop inﬂation and to encourage production, in
this case by protecting tenant cultivators. The state took virtually full control over thepurchase and sale of rice and other foodstuffs with the Food Control Law of 1942.
The government not only set the price of wholesale rice. It also took over distribution
and retail sales, buying crops from rural producers and selling them to consumers intowns and cities.
Agricultural controls offered incentives to the actual cultivators at the expense oflandlords. The Food Control Law set up a two-tiered pricing system. The government

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purchased “landlord rice” collected by landowners from their tenants at one price. Itbought the remainder of “producer rice” directly from tenants or small-scale ownercultivators at a higher price. The government at ﬁrst paid a 20 percent premium forproducer rice. By the end of the war it offered producers double what it paid tolandlords. By this time, two-thirds of the rice crop was covered by the control appa­
ratus. The government had bolstered the fortunes of cultivators and weakened thesocial prestige as well as the economic base of landlords.
The projects to mobilize for war by transforming industrial work and farming
were riddled with contradictions. Labor regulations sought the goal of a secure “living
wage,” but government inspectors on the spot allowed companies to give large incen­
tive premiums to fast young producers. Agrarianist rhetoric exalted village harmony,
while incentives set tenants and cultivators against landlords. Such contradictions weremost glaring in the state’s approach to the economic role of women. With millions ofmen taken from the workplace to the military, the logic for drawing women into thework force was compelling. Yet deeply held beliefs about proper gender roles wereequally compelling to many. The Home Ministry in 1942 refused to draft women into
workplaces “out of consideration for the family system.” Prime Minister Tōjō put it
most grandly:

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That warm fountainhead which protects the household, assumes responsibility forrearing children, and causes women, children, brothers, and sisters to act as support
for the front lines is based on the family system. This is the natural mission of thewomen in our empire and must be preserved far into the future.3

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By late 1943, government ofﬁcials recognized the need to somehow square thecircle and, in the words of one bureaucrat, “simultaneously mobilize Japanese womenwhile giving rise to their special qualities associated with the household.” They put
in place a virtually mandatory program to bring at least unmarried women into theworkplace. All single women between twelve and thirty-nine were ordered to registeras potential workers in the so-called Women’s Volunteer Labor Corps. Pressures fromneighborhood associations made it virtually mandatory to join. Between 1943 and1945, some 470,000 women had gone to work in this program. This accounted forabout one-third of the total increase in wartime female employment.
Yet even at the peak of the mobilization effort in 1943 Prime Minister Tōjō notedthat “there is no need for our nation to draft women just because America and Britain
are doing so. . . . [T]he weakening of the family system would be the weakening of
the nation. . . . [W]e are able to do our duties here in the Diet only because we havewives and mothers at home.”4 Inﬂuenced by such views at the top, the overall mobi­
lization of women’s labor power proceeded in a comparatively halting fashion. Be­
tween 1941 and 1944, as many as 1.5 million young and adult women entered thelabor force, producing a total of 14 million women working outside the home at thepeak of the wartime economy. They made up 42 percent of the civilan labor force.
The increase reﬂected market demand as well as state coercion. Women and theirfamilies needed money, and factories needed workers. Although the increase was sig­
niﬁcant, it contrasts sharply to the 50 percent rise in the United States and the evenlarger increases in the numbers of women workers in the wartime Soviet Union,
Germany, or Britain.

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Just as the economic reforms of the war years often fell short of the ambitious
goals of planners, or foundered on internal contradictions, so did a parallel drive fora Political New Order produce mixed results. It began as a drive of some bureaucratsand ofﬁcers to replace the existing political parties with a single mass party along thelines of Hitler’s Nazis. It ended halfway to that goal. No energetic mass party wascreated, but in 1940 all existing parties were dissolved. A sort of political cheerleadingsquad called the Imperial Rule Assistance Association (IRAA) replaced them.
Advocates of a new mass party coalesced around Prime Minister Konoe in 1937
and urged him to head a mass campaign against the established parties. They wereprincipally concerned with muzzling the Minseitō and Seiyūkai, which were still vig­orous enough in the Diet session of 1937–38 to force the government to delay orslightly modify its legislative agenda. They also viewed low voter turnout as a formof resistance. In the view of New Order supporters, individualism or socialism hadpoisoned the masses, rendering them insufﬁciently committed to the agenda of theemperor’s ministers. The campaign for a Political New Order was intended to trans­
form apathy into enthusiastic support for the state.
During his ﬁrst cabinet, Konoe focused on building consensus among opposed
elite factions, so he shrank from the confrontational effort to lead a new party. The
next two years witnessed a complicated series of struggles between advocates andopponents of the New Order. Key ﬁgures in the military, the bureaucracy, the Social
Masses Party, and the civilian right, who supported a relatively pure fascist regime,
placed their hopes in Prince Konoe. They saw a need for a powerful organ of massmobilization to channel the economic and spiritual energies of the population in sup­port of state goals. Against them stood most party politicians and their supporters,
particularly the zaibatsu leaders.
At the outset of his second term as prime minister in July 1940, Konoe ﬁnally
moved to proclaim a Political New Order by creating the IRAA. All political parties
were required to dissolve themselves, and elected politicians were told to join the new
association as individuals. But just as the zaibatsu accepted but co-opted the systemof economic controls, the Minseitō and Seiyūkai parties preserved some prerogatives
within the new structure.
The Diet election of 1942 nicely demonstrates this halfway result. About 1,000
candidates contested for 466 seats. The IRAA put forward a government-approved
slate of precisely 466 men. This included 247 incumbents and 20 former Diet repre­
sentatives, a signiﬁcant continuity from the previous decades of party politics. Roughly
550 independent candidates ran for ofﬁce as well. These included another 150 party
politicians. The ofﬁcial IRAA candidates won 82 percent of the seats (381 of 466).
All the incumbents on the IRAA slate were reelected.5 Many party men, whether thoseserving in the IRAA or those elected as independents, continued to command the local
loyalty of their constituents. To a considerable extent, the individual members of theestablished political parties remained a part of the ruling system.
Yet they were certainly a far meeker group of people than in the past. A total of
199 newcomers were elected to the Diet, a higher turnover than in previous elections.
And all the Diet members were now acting less as representatives of popular interests
than as transmitters of state interests to the people. They no longer constituted an

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LIVING IN THE SHADOW OF WAR

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organized or independent political force. The vast majority supported Prime MinisterTōjō. Those who did not kept their doubts private or faced arrest and prison.
Taken as a whole, state mobilization programs fell short of their more ambitious,
even totalitarian goals to “renovate” the nation. Signiﬁcant though limited pluralism
remained. Neither the Economic New Order nor the Industrial Patriotic Federation
nor the IRAA brought the state total control over Japanese subjects. Yet the drive tomobilize society for war, and remake it in the process, did change the relation between
state, society, and the individual. The Diet became a peripheral institution. Relatively
independent organizations of socialists or feminists, of factory workers or tenant farm­ers, of businessmen or party politicians were dissolved or transformed. The state be­came more intrusive than ever. Political expression was tightly and harshly monitored.
This new order was promoted using the latest technologies, from radio to news­
reels and cinema. It linked people to the state and the emperor through a vast networkof organizations that had been created in the modernizing endeavors of previous de­cades. These bodies were now more closely managed by the state: youth groups,
women’s groups, village and neighborhood associations, workplace councils, agricul­
tural and industrial producers’ unions. The wartime order was cloaked in a tradition­
alistic rhetoric that gloriﬁed ancient loyalty to the emperor, but in many ways it was
exceedingly modern.

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Through most of the 1930s, despite the costly and escalating war in China, mostJapanese enjoyed economic good times. Industrial production increased by a total of
15 percent from 1937 through 1941, with particular gains in heavy and chemicalindustries producing for the military. Censorship constrained public discourse, but
cultural life remained rather upbeat and lively. In the immediate circumstances of theirlives, most people saw little reason to doubt the basic wisdom of their leaders’ newdepartures in foreign and domestic policies.
But signs of trouble gradually were becoming visible toward the end of the de­cade, well before the tide of the Paciﬁc War turned against Japan in 1942. Economic
growth after 1937 was considerably slower than in the previous several years. Afterthe war in China broke out in 1937, inﬂation jumped from worrisome but manageablelevels of about 6 percent annually to double-digit annual levels. Taxes rose sharply
from the late 1930s onward. By 1938 military spending accounted for a full threefourths of the government’s budget and 30 percent of gross national product. This was
already an extraordinary imbalance, comparable to that of the Soviet Union’s economy
in the 1970s and 1980s. It only got worse in the next several years. The consumer
economy was virtually shut down by the early 1940s. Controls on resource allocation
denied raw materials and capital to textiles and other consumer industries, and mo­bilization plans forced these producers to retool for war production. Price and wage
controls had unintended adverse effects. They pushed consumers, employers, and la­borers to create black markets in goods and jobs. Standards of living collapsed. The
real wages of Japanese people fell by 60 percent from 1934 to 1945. By contrast, real
wages rose more than 20 percent in the United States and Britain over this span and218

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remained constant in Germany. By early 1944, even before ﬁre-bombing devasted the
major cities, civilian life had been a dismal grind of scarcity and restriction for several
years.
The gradual descent into deprivation can be glimpsed in the plain but compelling
recollection of a relatively fortunate Tokyo woman who ran a bakery with her husband:iety

For a while we had a supply of Shanghai eggs. . . . They didn’t get frothy like real
eggs, and the [cakes] wouldn’t rise either. Eventually they became unavailable, so we
had to change our business to sandwiches. There was no more sugar. We’d buy ten
loaves of bread, slice them as thin as possible, ﬁll them with whale ham. There wasn’t
any real pork ham anymore. . . . Soon enough bread disappeared for us ordinary peo­
ple. Even whale ham. We had to give up the sandwich business. . . . Eventually we
had to deliver our baking machinery to the military because it was made of iron. . . .
Finally we decided to evacuate from Tokyo, since we had little left and the air raids
were coming more often. . . . My house in Monzen Nakachō burned down in the
March 9 air raid. . . . But we were lucky. We didn’t have anybody killed by that war.6

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As mobilization and war came to dominate the lives of such ordinary people,
Japan’s cultural leaders played a variety of roles. Some turned to aesthetic projects
and nonpolitical endeavors out of self-protection or disgust. The brilliant writer Tani­
zaki Jun’ichirō devoted himself to a modern “translation” of the great Heian era workof prose ﬁction, The Tale of Genji, which he completed in 1938. Some left-wingscholars withdrew from activism to produce translations of classics of European social
science. Kuruma Samezō began work on his extraordinary complete “concordance”
of the work of Karl Marx, a precomputer equivalent of what the Internet generation
would call a Marxism search engine.7
A small and scattered number of dissenters tried to slip their critical views past
the censors. The following poem was published in 1944, apparently because the au­thorities did not catch its paciﬁst implication:ya

A MouseAr

Throwing away his life
as if he were a cardboard statue,
one mousemarched out into a busy street
and was squashed.
Many wheels rolled over the mouseand ironed him out ﬂat,spreading him thinner and thinner on the pavement.
Soon he was unrecognizable—
as a mouse,as an animal,
even as something that had died.
One day someone crossed the street
and saw a ﬂattened object
battered and warped in the sunlight.8

Unlike this poet, the majority of intellectuals supported the war with enthusiasm.
They joined government-sponsored associations of artists or writers. They produced

219Japan in Wartime

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important essays and speeches that justiﬁed wartime mobilization and reform as a
grand mission to “overcome modernity.”
An attack on modernity and Western culture was the most important intellectual
reaction to the war. It reached a peak in July 1942 in a famous conference on “over­coming modernity” held at Kyoto University. Some of the nation’s most prominent
intellectuals gathered, convinced there was a link between their academic musings andgeopolitics. They sought to identify “the world historical meaning” of the wars in
China and the Paciﬁc. They saw their intellectual battle as a complement to the “glo­rious war” underway, a struggle between “the blood of the Japanese that truly moti­
vates our intellectual life and Western knowledge that has been superimposed on Japanin modern times.” Just as a war to liberate Asia was preferable to accepting Western
hegemony, so was a cultural war against modernity and the West better than “cultural
submission” to Western ideals.9
Advocates of “overcoming the modern” argued that the cultural enemy was therational “science” that had grown out of Western traditions variously traced back to
the Greeks, Jews, or Christians. Such traditions set men in struggle against God. In
Japan, to the contrary, there was no conﬂict or tension between gods and men. Japanesespirituality, such as that seen in Shinto practices, was said to be a source of “uniﬁed
knowledge” stressing the “wholeness” of beings, creatures, and things.10
The anti-modernists saw the decades from the 1880s onward as a long era ofbetrayal. The true potential of the Meiji restoration, they claimed, had been the prom­
ise of the East asserting itself against the West. On one level this restoration suc­ceeded: Where India was overwhelmed and China dismembered by the West, Japanwithstood the Western onslaught. But then what happened? Japan’s Meiji “moderni­
zation” inundated the nation with Western materialism. Japanese people became self­
ish seekers of advantage. They lost sight of their true essence as a classless commu­
nity living in harmony under a benevolent emperor. By the 1920s, this argument
went, the nation was marked by crass proﬁt-seeking and hedonism, emblematized in“modern girls” and American movies, in fast living (supiido) and eroticism. Remark­ably enough, given the commercialism and ribald character of so much of Tokugawa
popular culture, these trends were usually described simply as Western cultural inva­
sions, in particular the poisonous output of the United States. American democracy
was condemned as a sleight of hand that satisﬁed the ignorant masses with trivial
goods.
A poem published in the Yomiuri newspaper just after Pearl Harbor summed up
the spirit of such critiques:
We are standing for justice and life
While they are standing for proﬁts
We are defending justice
While they are attacking for proﬁts
They raise their heads in arrogance,
While we are constructing the great East Asia family.11

The war was gloriﬁed as a quest to liberate all of Asia from Western-dominatedmodernism, thus restoring an Asian social harmony. As one essayist put it in early
1942: “[T]he races of East Asia are going to establish a united cultural sphere, like

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the ones the Europeans have created since the medieval age. As the ﬁrst step . . . theinﬂuences of the occidental peoples in East Asia must be driven away.”12
The government’s cultural policies during the war closely reﬂected this spirit. The
state quite literally sought to expel Anglo-American cultural inﬂuences. American andBritish ﬁlms were banned. German and French movies were allowed, but to preserve
the martial atmosphere, the love scenes were cut. All “enemy music” was banned,
especially decadent jazz. In January 1943, the Nippon Music Culture Association, agovernment creation with a large membership of musicians and teachers, announced
it would “weed Japan of the inﬂuence of American jazz,” which had permeated Japan’s
daily life. Every third Friday was set aside to discuss ways of “ousting degenerate
jazz music.” Beauty parlors, which had surged in number since the 1920s, were con­demned for corrupting the purity of women, and permanents were banned. Baseball,
popular since the 1890s, was banned in 1943. And the state launched a drive to purify
the language, which had been permeated with English and other Western language
expressions for decades. Japanized pronounciations of “strike” and “out” (sutoraiki
and a-u-to) were ordered to be replaced by native words. The “Japan Alps” were
likewise renamed indigenously, and the popular Westernisms for parents (“mama” and“papa”) were discouraged.13
The calls to replace proﬂigate Western ways with a spirit of sacriﬁce appropriate
to the pure Japanese spirit were loud and consistent. They came from both intellectuals
and the state and were addressed to the entire population. Shortages of consumer goods
made austerity and sacriﬁce unavoidable. Western luxury items disappeared fromstores. City women gave up stylish dresses for baggy workclothes called monpe. Hairdryers were recycled for war production.
But cultural restrictions that were not reinforced by material scarcity or direct
military necessity had rather limited effect. Baseball continued after the ban. Whenthe military started drafting university students in the fall of 1943, six months after
the ban took effect, the best farewell present the administrators of Keio and Waseda
universities could think of was a baseball match between the two schools. It attracted
a huge crowd. Similarly, cafés turned off Victrolas for a few days after jazz was
outlawed. But owners soon started playing old favorites again, softly at ﬁrst, more
boldly over time. One kamikaze pilot wrote in his diary, “[H]ow funny [it is] to listen
to jazz music the night before going out to kill the jazzy Americans.”14
The effort to overcome modern culture—like the various projects to construct a
new political and socioeconomic order—was full of contradictions. It did not generateconsistent or well-enforced policies. At the intellectual level, anti-modernism actuallydrew on a Western conceptual language articulated in Europe by ﬁgures such as Nietz­
sche and Heidegger. Indeed, the centrality of calls to “overcome modernity” was anindication of how fully modern Japan had become. At the popular level, trends, tastes,and hobbies of Western origin had been so deeply rooted that they could not be castout easily. Despite slogans to the contrary, the war did require the use of “rational
science” to manufacture planes and in all other aspects of production and battle. In­
deed, Japanese engineers excelled in the design of the Zero ﬁghter plane. Likewise,
the scientists of the notorious “unit 731” used coldly “modern” rationality in biological
warfare experiments on Chinese subjects. Finally, it is important to recognize thatunease about modernity and losing one’s traditional essence was not limited to Japan

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Japan in WartimeAr

One part of the government policy to encourage Japanese values and a return to a “tradi­tional” culture was a restriction on Western cultural inﬂuences, from music and sports tofashion. Here, a military inspector on a sidewalk in the fashionable Ginza shopping districtof Tokyo admonishes women with permanents to conform to policy and adopt “Japanese”
hairstyles in 1940.
Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

or to the Axis powers. Indeed, such unease has been a deﬁning feature of modern life
itself, all around the world. In an extreme way, and with unusually devastating con­sequences, wartime Japanese were grappling with quintessential modern dilemmas.

ENDING THE WAR
People in Japan lived through most of the war with remarkable public perseverance,
despite mounting private doubts. But toward the end, signs of social breakdown in­creased. Chronic absenteeism in urban workplaces throughout Japan reached 20 per­

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Toward the very end of the war, the rhetoric and preparation for a “decisive battle” to thedeath, in defense of the homeland and throne, reached unprecedented intensity. Here mem­bers of the Women’s Defense Association in Nagasaki train with bamboo poles for the ex­pected ﬁnal battle in 1945.

lege

Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

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cent daily even before air raids forced workers to ﬂee the cities. After the raids began
in 1944 and 1945, absentee rates often came to a full 50 percent of the work force.
Wildcat disputes over wages and work conditions rose in number. The military police
also noted an alarming rise in passive resistance such as anti-government grafﬁti. One
imperial household aide recorded in his diary in December 1943 the fearful spectacleof a drunken gentlemen singing the following ditty on the streetcar:
They started a war
they were bound to losesaying we’ll win, we’ll win,
the big fools. Look, we’re sure to lose.
The war is lostand Europe’s turned Red.
Turning Asia Red can be done before breakfast.
And when that time comes, out I’ll come.15

As they observed these trends, and as they realized that the war had turned de­cisively against Japan, some leaders in court, diplomatic, and business circles and a
few military brass concluded that even a nearly total surrender would be preferable
to the consequences of a doomed last battle. Most prominent among them was Prince
Konoe Fumimaro, the former prime minister upon whom the more radical reformers
had pinned great hopes several years back. Konoe and others were terriﬁed at theprospect that the Soviet Union might enter the war against Japan (the 1941 Neutrality
Treaty between Japan and the Soviets had remained in effect throughout the war). The

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group around Konoe feared above all that a prolonged war would crush the imperial
institution. They came to identify a three-pronged threat: Foreign attack might com­bine with unrest from below and revolutionary plans from above to destroy the spir­
itual and cultural heart of their world.
These fears—especially the fear of a domestic revolution initiated by high-level
military and bureaucratic radicals—were exaggerated. Factional conﬂict near the war’s
end indeed set Konoe and his allies against the army leadership in particular. But thiswas not a ﬁght setting pro-emperor conservatives around the throne versus antiemperor revolutionaries in the military. The dispute centered on the question of who
posed the greater threat to the imperial institution: the United States or the Soviet
Union. Army ofﬁcers who feared the Americans even entertained desperate plans toevacuate the emperor to the Asian continent with Soviet protection during a ﬁnal
battle for the homeland. Their opponents preferred to take their chances by accepting
the American conditions for peace.
The army strategy prevailed in the ﬁrst stage of the war’s endgame. Prime Min­
ister Tōjō resigned in July 1944. He had lost the support of the court, the navy, andhis own cabinet ministers. But these elites believed they could not control the military,
so another army man, General Koiso Kuniaki, succeeded him. In February 1945 Konoe
made a desperate attempt to take the initiative from army hardliners. He presented aplea, known as the Konoe Memorial, to the emperor in person. He urged Hirohito to
make peace with the United States, even at the cost of unconditional surrender. This,he argued, was the only way to “extricate the people from the miserable ravages ofwar, preserve the kokutai, and plan for the security of the imperial house.”16 Theemperor appeared intrigued, but did not follow his advice to replace the prime ministerwith someone willing to take this course. Several of the men who helped Konoe
formulate his proposal were brieﬂy jailed, including the diplomat and postwar prime
minister, Yoshida Shigeru. Koiso continued his public stance of conﬁdence in theaggressive pursuit of the war, but he secretly made overtures to the Soviet Union
seeking its help in working out a peace agreement.
This approach had clearly failed by the spring of 1945. Facing strong Americanpressure to join the war, the Soviets announced they would not renew their neutrality
pact with Japan. Koiso resigned in April 1945. In an atmosphere of grave crisis, he
was succeeded by Admiral Suzuki Kantarō. As Suzuki was forming his cabinet, Amer­ican forces launched the ﬁerce battle for Okinawa. By the time the United States took
the island in June, the ﬁghting had taken 12,500 American lives and left a stunning
toll of 250,000 Japanese dead (including 150,000 civilians). By this time Germany
had surrendered, and ﬁre-bombing had turned Japan’s cities to rubble.
Those with access to accurate reports were well aware that continued ﬁghting
was hopeless. But Suzuki and the others in the inner circle of senior statesmen aroundthe throne feared the uncertainty of a peace that might bring down the imperial in­stitution more than the certainty of a war that would yield nothing but continued deathand destruction. Through July and the ﬁrst days of August, they continued to makediplomatic maneuvers based on the fantasy that the Soviet Union might mediate asurrender that would guarantee the emperor’s survival.
Only the combination of the two atomic bombs, dropped on Hiroshima (August6) and Nagasaki (August 9), the declaration of war by the Soviet Union (August 8),

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ietyand, a Soviet invasion of Manchuria (August 9), led the emperor himself to end thewar. Even in the face of these blows, it took nearly a week to reach the point ofsurrender. At midnight on August 9, after a daylong conference in his presence, thearmy and navy chiefs of staff and the army minister were still holding out. They
wanted Japan to negotiate a surrender without an Allied occupation or any Allied war
crime trials. Siding with the prime minister and two other members of the Supreme
Council of State, the emperor cast the deciding vote to surrender with the sole con­dition that the imperial institution be preserved. The Americans offered the unsettling
reply that the Japanese people would be allowed to decided the emperor’s fate, despite
the fact that top-level planners in Washington intended to keep the emperor in place
and use him to facilitate a smooth occupation. On August 14, perhaps believing that
he would fare better under American than Soviet control, the emperor broke anotherdeadlocked conference to accept the American surrender terms. The following day,he broadcast this news directly via radio to the entire nation. On September 2, thesurrender document was signed aboard the battleship Missouri in Tokyo Bay.

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BURDENS AND LEGACIES OF WAR

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The war bequeathed a complex legacy. It left deep physical and emotional scars both
inside and outside Japan. More than ﬁfty years later, these wounds are not yet healed.
At the same time, the war laid the groundwork for a very different postwar world.
By temporarily ousting the British, Dutch, French, and American rulers fromSoutheast Asia and the Philippines, the Japanese rulers both intentionally and unwit­
tingly hastened the demise of colonialism in Asia. By developing modern industries
in colonies from Korea to Manchuria to Taiwan, they fostered postwar industrializa­
tion. But the superintendents of the Greater East Asia Coprosperity Sphere won little
thanks and much enduring hatred for their repressive practices of colonial and wartime
rule, in Korea and China above all. Millions of people suffered from the unrelenting
pursuit of empire and war. The roll call of devastation included the Nanjing Massacre,
uncountable further atrocities in China, the Vietnamese famine, and the hopeless cam­paign of the Indian National Army. In addition, nearly thirty-six thousand British andAmerican prisoners of war died in captivity. This represented more than one-fourthof all captured soldiers.17 The survivors nursed intense anger for decades.
Another group of war victims received much less public attention at the time orimmediately after the war. These were the many thousands of young girls or women
who were forced to work in euphemistically named “comfort stations” near the front
lines of battle. About 80 percent were Koreans, and the remainder included Chinese,
Japanese, and a small number of European women. Recruiters told some women they
were hired as waitresses or servants. They simply captured others at gunpoint. Onceat the front, all the women were forced to serve as prostitutes for Japanese troops.
The soldiers were typically required to pay for the services of these women. Fromtheir perspective, the comfort stations appeared little different from the licensed broth­els throughout Japan proper. But many of the women received no pay. Others received“pay” in the form of military tickets whose only use was to purchase daily necessities
such as soap or food. The women thus worked in conditions closer to slavery than toprostitution. What further distinguished the plight of the “comfort women” from the225Japan in Wartime

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common wartime phenomenon of prostitutes selling themselves to soldiers was thehands-on role of Japanese authorities. From cabinet ministers to local commanders,state ofﬁcials authorized, regulated, and in some cases directly managed the comfort
stations.18 As with the death toll in massacres, the precise number of women forced
into sexual slavery will never be known. Estimates range from one hundred thousand
to two hundred thousand.
The war was also traumatic for the Japanese people. About 1.7 million solidiersdied between 1937 and 1945. As many as three hundred thousand prisoners of war
perished in Soviet detention camps after the war. Air raids left nine million homelessand killed nearly two hundred thousand civilians. The two atomic bombs killed an
additional two hundred thousand people immediately. All human beings within a twomile radius of the epicenter were incinerated in an instant. Hiroshima and Nagasaki
became hellish zones of ﬁre, death, and total destruction. Another one hundred thou­sand or more bomb victims died in the following months and years because of thelingering effects of radiation sickness. The overall Japanese death toll of close to 2.5
million, and above all the unprecedented experience of atomic bombing, left to sur­vivors a powerful sense of themselves as victims—and not perpetrators—of war. The
experience of defeat sparked a deeply felt revulsion toward all wars among millions
of Japanese people.
Policies of the war years also consolidated what has been called “the 1940s sys­tem,” although it is more accurately described as a “transwar” set of programs.19 The
famous postwar practice of industrial policy was rooted in the years of trial-and-error
efforts from the depression era through 1945. During this time bureaucrats constructed
enduring institutions to guide and control the private economy. They also nurtured
complex ongoing networks of major manufacturers and subcontracting suppliers,
which would continue into the postwar era. The effort to mobilize for war likewise
sparked changes in systems of landholding, work organization, and gender roles. Land­lords lost power. Blue-collar workers were given materially empty but ideologicallypotent promises of equality with managers. Women were pulled into workplaces inrecord numbers. Certainly Japan’s surrender marked a great divide in modern history.
But the dramatic new postwar departures in every area, from social and cultural life
to politics and international relations, would build upon such wartime experiences in
subtle and surprising ways.

13
Occupied JapanNew Departures and Durable Structures

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On August 15, 1945, the emperor of Japan announced the nation’s surrender to the
Allied powers with his ﬁrst radio broadcast ever. Some of his stunned listeners would
later recall that August noon as an instant of “rebirth.” For these people, the surrender
was a moment when past experience and values were rendered illegitimate. They
decided to chart a totally new course, whether personal, on behalf of a national com­munity, or both. Other listeners, already struggling to ﬁnd food and shelter in bombedout cities, fell into a condition of despair and passivity. Still others—especially thosein positions of power—resolved to defend the world they knew. Despite the sharednational experience of defeat, individual experience varied greatly.
Even before the war ended, many court ﬁgures, as well as some politicians, bus­
inesspeople, and bureaucratic leaders, feared that defeat might bring a revolution thatwould sweep away the imperial institution and replace it with state socialism on a
Soviet model. After surrender, these fears only intensiﬁed, although the United Statescame to be seen as the agent of revolution. These apocalyptic visions of revolution—
for some fearful visions, for others hopeful ones—were not realized. Profound ten­sions and conﬂict have remained constant features of Japanese life. But, as one ex­amines the history of the second half of the twentieth century, a central task must be
to explain a process of stabilization that somehow contained these tensions. How andwhy did a conservative political and social order emerge and endure in the decades
after 1945?

BEARING THE UNBEARABLE
Hardly any of the millions of people who listened to the surrender announcement had
ever heard their sovereign’s voice. Their surprise at the sound of his high-pitchedwords ﬁghting through the radio static compounded their shock at the content of themessage. For eight years Japan’s rulers had exhorted the Japanese people endlessly tosacriﬁce in the emperor’s name for the sake of a great and certain victory to liberate
Asia from the tyranny of the “British and American devils.” Japanese soldiers had
killed millions of soldiers and civilians throughout Asia, and about 2.5 million out of
70 million Japanese subjects had perished. Now, suddenly, in stilted and deliberately
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ambiguous language, the emperor was telling them that the war was over, and Japanwas defeated.
Hirohito explained the decision to surrender with one of history’s most remarkable
understatements: “The war has not turned in Japan’s favor.” He stressed the destructive
power of the enemy’s new “cruel bombs,” which threatened “not only the extermi­
nation of our race, but the destruction of all human civilization.” He offered words ofregret for other peoples who had worked with Japan “for the liberation of East Asia.”
The emperor then announced his intent “to open the way for a great peace forthousands of generations to come.” He ended by urging his subjects “to endure theunendurable, bear the unbearable” and unite “to keep pace with the progress of theworld.”1
This announcement was a noteworthy ﬁrst effort of the emperor and his closest
advisors to justify the past as a selﬂess war of liberation and defend their continued
authority in a world about to turn upside down. It presented the Japanese people andeven the state as victims of the war and cruel weapons. Although Hirohito ended by
invoking Meiji era rhetoric in which Japan sought to emulate the progress of theWestern world, his overall thrust was a call for endurance more than great change.
He was urging his subjects to “sacriﬁce as usual.”2
For a few, the prospect of defeat was literally unbearable. About 350 militaryofﬁcers committed suicide soon after this announcement. But when measured against
the strident calls by military rulers for soldiers to give their lives for the state in abattle to the death, this was not a large proportion of the roughly six million men inarms at the war’s end. Most civilians and soldiers responded more practically or pas­
sively, and far less dramatically.
One of the most practical immediate steps took place in bureaucratic, military,and corporate ofﬁces. During the two weeks that elapsed between the end of theﬁghting on August 15 and the arrival of General MacArthur and the occupation army
in early September, hundreds of bonﬁres ﬂared all around Tokyo. To erase evidenceof their wartime activities, which might bring on retribution from the occupiers, of­ﬁcials and managers by the thousands destroyed all manner of documents.
In another swift and practical step, the government took a page from its wartime
policy book by recruiting women to work as prostitutes and thereby “defend andnurture the purity of our race.” Planning for ofﬁcial comfort stations began on August
18. By year’s end, thousands of women, most with no previous experience as pros­
titutes, were serving Allied soldiers in dozens of “Recreation and Amusement Centers”
in cities throughout Japan. In January 1946, the occupation authorities condemned andoutlawed this ofﬁcial prostitution. They called it a violation of the human rights of
the women. But the occupiers accepted the decision of the Japanese government tocontinue the prewar system of licensed, privately run brothels. The soldiers of theoccupation army provided a steady source of customers. The women who worked as
prostitutes, and sometimes developed long-term relationships with particular men,
faced a double-bind of discrimination. Although American ofﬁcials allowed brothels
to function, they strongly discouraged GIs from marrying Japanese women. Yet mixedrace children born to these women faced considerable discrimination in Japan.
Energetic entrepreneurship, legal or not, was another notable practical response
to defeat. Within hours of the emperor’s broadcast, an editor named Ogawa Kikumatsu

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was inspired with the realization that English conversation books would soon be inhuge demand. He hastily produced a language manual that sold 3.5 million copies by
the year’s end. It remained the all-time bestseller in Japan until 1981.3 More typical
was the turn to the black market. As wartime rationing and price controls continued
after the war, many men, and a few women, including numerous Koreans and Tai­wanese, made fortunes selling scarce food and household items to desperate buyers.
Gangsters ran these illegal, but openly tolerated, outdoor markets. They battled vio­
lently to protect their turf. By October 1945, approximately seventeen thousand “bluesky markets” had sprung up in cities and towns nationwide. Sellers procured theirgoods wherever they could: from farmers, from caches of Japanese war supplies, fromprostitutes and GIs with access to the abundant stores on American bases. Someclothing and blankets for sale had even been lifted from corpses.4
For several years, millions of people faced starvation. Thousands actually starved
to death.5 By the spring of 1946 poor harvests and a paralyzed rationing system had
produced a serious urban food crisis. The average household spent 68 percent of its
income on food in 1946. The average height and weight of elementary school children
decreased until 1948.6 Newsreels recorded tragic scenes of emaciated youths withdistended bellies being examined by anxious ofﬁcials from the Ministry of Welfare.
Adults and children, women and men, crowded onto trains bound for the countryside
to barter kimonos for cabbage. One memoir notes that “shedding clothes to buy food

One of the most common scenes of the desperate ﬁrst two years after the war was the crushof city-dwellers in search of food crowding onto trains bound for the countryside. They car­ried bags of personal belongings, such as kimonos, which they planned to barter for vegeta­
bles or rice.
Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

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was ﬁrst compared to the snake’s shedding of its skin, then to the peeling of an onion,
because it was accompanied by tears.”7
The clinical word for exhaustion—kyōdatsu—was one deﬁning term for the stateof mind of Japanese people in these early postwar years. Alcohol and drug abuse wereidentiﬁed in the media as major social problems. Newspapers published numerous
reports of deaths from homemade liquor. Rates of armed robbery and theft rose sharply
from levels of the 1920s or 1930s. On the other hand, murder rates did not increase.
The perception of social disorder as recorded by anxious observers in the government
and press was probably exaggerated.
Another byword of the era was kasutori culture. The term referred to a popular
cheap wine brewed from sake dregs (kasu). It suggested a psychological world ofsentimental self-pity balanced by a deﬁant resolve to live for the day at a time when
the future seemed hopeless. As one black marketeer put it, “I drank trying to forgeta life that hung suspended like a ﬂoating weed.” In both their writing and their own
lives, several famous writers, most notably Dazai Osamu and Sakaguchi Ango, cele­
brated the humanity of peacetime decadence in contrast to the inhumanity of wartime
loyalty. In a brilliant essay “On Decadence,” Sakaguchi wrote:

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Could we not say that the kamikaze hero was a mere illusion, and that human history
begins from the point where he takes to black-marketeering? We have only returned
to being human. Humans become decadent—loyal retainers and saintly women be­come decadent.8

olleTHE AMERICAN AGENDA: DEMILITARIZE AND DEMOCRATIZE

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In sharp contrast to people in Japan, the American occupiers who began to arrive in
September 1945 were well fed, well equipped, and overﬂowing with conﬁdence. They
brought a vision of far-reaching reform. For nearly seven years the Japanese people
faced the unprecedented experience of occupation by a foreign power wielding theauthority to rewrite laws, restructure the economic and political system, and even seek
to redeﬁne culture and values.
The occupation in theory was a collective endeavor of the Allied powers. A fournation Allied Council for Japan was created in early 1946 to advise the Supreme
Commander for the Allied Powers (SCAP). An eleven-member Far Eastern Commis­
sion was charged to formulate occupation policy and review SCAP actions.9 In fact,
the supreme commander, in the imposing person of General Douglas MacArthur anda mostly American staff, took orders from the U.S. government and paid scant atten­
tion to these bodies. As a matter of convenience, the acronym SCAP quickly came torefer both to MacArthur himself and to his extensive administrative bureaucracy.10
The initial American strategy in Japan was encapsulated in two words: demili­tarize and democratize. To achieve the ﬁrst goal, SCAP dissolved the army and navy
immediately: Japan’s armed forces were ofﬁcially disbanded on November 30. To
follow up on this order was a daunting task. It meant demobilizing the gigantic Jap­
anese military, and repatriating to the home islands a total of 6.9 million people. When
the war ended, nearly ten percent of the population of Japan was overseas: 3.7 million
soldiers and 3.2 million civilians in Korea, Manchuria, Taiwan and the Chinese main­

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land, as well as the far-ﬂung wartime empire to the south. With the exception of about
400,000 people who remained prisoners in the Soviet Union, and smaller numbers
left behind in Manchuria, demobilization and repatriation were completed by the endof 1948. While this was a relatively swift and smooth process, to absorb such a vast
number of people was a complex undertaking which left a legacy that has not yet
been fully studied or understood. Repatriates, both civilian and military, often felt outof place back “home,” regarded with a mixture of pity for their poverty and scorn for
their role in pursuing what now appeared to have been a hopeless war. Returned
veterans were prominent among those who organized politically in the 1950s andthereafter to pressure the government to rearm and revise the American-imposed re­forms of the occupation era.
Other demilitarizing steps focused on those outside the military who had sup­ported the war machine In October 1945 the Americans disbanded the oppressive
Special Higher Police (dubbed “thought police” by Western critics). Between 1945
and 1948, the occupiers purged over two hundred thousand men from positions in thegovernment and business world who were judged responsible for leading the war
effort. They disestablished the ofﬁcial state Shinto religion. During and immediately
after the war, the allies tried some six thousand military men for conventional war
crimes, such as abuse of prisoners. They convicted and executed over nine hundred.
They also set in motion an ambitious plan for war reparations. Signiﬁcant portions ofJapan’s industrial plant were to be loaded onto ships and given to the wartime victimsof Japanese expansion in Asia.
The most signiﬁcant arena of retribution was the International Military Tribunal
for the Far East, also called simply the Tokyo Trial. It dragged on from May 1946 toNovember 1948 and put Japan’s wartime rulers on trial. Beginning with General Tōjō
Hideki, twenty-eight men were charged with both conventional war crimes and the
newly minted crime of engaging in conspiracy to wage war. All were found guilty ofsome charges. Tōjō and six others were executed. Another seventeen defendants weresentenced to life in prison.11
The United States in 1945 sought to do far more than demilitarize Japan andpunish the nation’s leaders. It was striving to reconstruct the entire world in its image,
Japan included. In this spirit, SCAP imposed a rush of reforms in the fall of 1945
and 1946. They were based on a simple logic: Militarism stemmed from monopoly,tyranny, and poverty. To construct a peaceful, nonmilitaristic Japan required more thanjust disbanding the military. It required vast reforms to smash authoritarian politicalrule, equalize political rights and even wealth, and transform values.
SCAP announced the ﬁrst major reforms in October 1945, with declarations thatguaranteed freedoms of speech, press, and assembly and the right to organize labor or
farmer unions. SCAP also ordered the Japanese government to extend civil and politicalrights to women. A bit later, in December, the occupiers told the Japanese government
to undertake land reform that would allow tenant farmers to purchase their ﬁelds.
With these steps, the Americans sent a clear message that democracy should be
the cornerstone of a new Japan. The capstone of this effort was the rewriting of theconstitution. This was drafted by a committee of occupation ofﬁcials in the winter of1946. It was vigorously discussed and ratiﬁed that spring in the imperial Diet (stillin existence until the new constitution replaced it). It was promulgated in November
1946 and took effect in May 1947.

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The postwar constitution downgraded the emperor from absolute monarch to a“symbol of the State and of the unity of the people.” It granted to the people of Japanan array of “fundamental human rights,” including the civil liberties of the American
Bill of Rights such as freedoms of speech, assembly, and religion. It also boldly
extended the concept of rights into the social realm. The new constitution guaranteed
rights to education “correspondent to ability” and to “minimum standards of whole­some and cultured living.” It assured the right (and obligation) to work, to organize,
and to bargain collectively. It outlawed discrimination based on sex, race, creed, social
status, or family origin. It gave women explicit guarantees of equality in marriage,
divorce, property, inheritance, and “other matters pertaining to marriage and the fam­ily.” Finally, its article 9 committed the Japanese people to “forever renounce war asa sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settlinginternational disputes.”
Japanese elites were stunned by these sweeping guarantees, especially when theAmericans insisted that the Japanese government present them to the people as thegovernment’s own recommendation. But the draft document met an enthusiastic pop­
ular response. As ofﬁcially sanctioned goals or ideals, its ambitious provisions haveframed the discourse and institutions of contemporary Japanese life ever since.
From 1945 through 1947 occupation ofﬁcials imposed important additionalchanges. SCAP freed Communist Party members from jail as early as October 4,1945. It outlawed Japanese institutions of censorship and arguably allowed a greater
range of political expression than was possible in the United States at the time. At
the same time, with little sense of irony, SCAP put in place its own program to censor
the newly “liberated” Japanese cultural world to prevent continued support of themilitary or war regime.
The occupation reformers attacked the sprawling business empires of the zaibatsu.
They took away ownership and control from holding companies dominated by thezaibatsu families (Mitsui, Sumitomo, Yasuda, Iwasaki [who owned Mitsubishi], Asano,and others). They broke up some of the larger ﬁrms within each zaibatsu network.
They encouraged and advised labor unions, and at ﬁrst SCAP ofﬁcials welcomed theextraordinary drive of organizing and strikes. The program of land reform enacted
under SCAP order revolutionized the distribution of social and economic power inrural Japan. It essentially expropriated the holdings of landlords, gave them to former
tenants, and created a countryside of small family farms.
The schools were also subject to reform. SCAP ordered the Ministry of Education
to replace lessons for war and loyalty to the state with teachings of peace and de­mocracy. Wartime textbooks were quickly rewritten, although for the ﬁrst year or so
students had to cross out offending phrases about tanks and battleships and use theold books. Some of them were little more than a mass of inked-over paragraphs. In
1947 compulsory education was extended through the ninth grade. The university
system was dramatically enlarged. The “imperial” label was removed from the handfulof elite state-funded prewar universities, renamed simply as Tokyo University or Kyoto
University. These were joined by dozens of newly founded or expanded four-yearcolleges throughout Japan. In 1947 women were granted access to private and public
universities. SCAP also sought to implement an American-style system of local schoolboards and local control.
These sweeping measures changed the climate of ideas and the distribution of

I MPER IA L JA P A N FR O M A SC E N D A N CE T O AS HE S

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Until new books were produced, wartime textbooks full of references to the glory of the Japa­
nese nation and military were the only ones available for use in schools. Occupation author­
ities had teachers and students themselves cross out offending passages, sometimes producing
essentially useless pages of black ink. The irony, if not hypocrisy, of this American program
to democratize Japan was a lesson that many young students learned and remembered.

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Courtesy of Shogakkan Publishers.

economic and social power. A fever of “democratization” swept Japan. The projectsof democracy and equality were understood in extremely expansive terms by theiradvocates; they meant far more than voting and land reform. They implied to many—and this was both promise and threat—a remaking of the human soul. Intellectuals
engaged in searching and sophisticated debate over how to nurture the autonomous
subjectivity of a truly democratic person. Many looked to Marxism for inspiration and
the Japan Communist Party for leadership, and the political parties and philosophiesof the left enjoyed unprecedented support. Crowds of people as hungry for ideas as
for food rummaged through used book stalls. Others camped overnight outside major
bookstores to purchase the latest installment of major works of political philosophy.
Talk of renovating and remaking and transforming echoed throughout Japan.
General Douglas MacArthur stood as the human symbol of the American powerthat was imposing these massive reforms. He was a charismatic leader of extraordinary
conﬁdence. A master of the sparing and symbolic use of his own image, MacArthur
kept himself hidden from direct contact with ordinary Japanese people but still released

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Occupied Japan

General MacArthur meets Emperor Hirohito for the ﬁrst time, at the U.S. Embassy in Tokyo
on September 27, 1945. This photograph was published in all major papers the next day.
Showing the two leaders’ contrast in height, and the general’s casual dress compared to Hirohito’s formal wear, this image had a huge impact in bringing home the fact of defeat andthe subservient relationship between the Japanese nation and its occupiers.
Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

to the public one of the most remarkable political photographs in Japanese or world
history. The picture, taken on the occasion of his ﬁrst meeting with Emperor Hirohito—in MacArthur’s headquarters and not in the palace—on September 27, 1945,
was published in all the major newspapers. It conveyed the subordinate position of
the Japanese state and people with shocking force to the entire population.
It is important to note that despite the supreme commander’s strong personality

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and emperorlike image, he was not an independent ruler imposing policies of his own
design. SCAP policies had been designed by planners in Washington, DC, during the
war and approved by President Harry Truman. Both the initial reforms, and the shifts
in American policy that became visible in 1947, generally reﬂected the thinking of
the mainstream of American policymakers.
One exceptional area where MacArthur clung to a very personal agenda was
religion. He was a devout Christian and he wanted to use his prestige and power tospiritually transform the Japanese people by Christianizing them. He encouraged West­ern missionaries to come back to Japan. He requested that ten million translated copiesof the Bible be distributed to the Japanese people.12 In the end, his efforts bore little
fruit. Some people did turn to Christianity for explanations or comfort in the face ofthe disaster of the war. But the overall proportion of Japanese Christians remained
relatively constant at approximately 1 percent of the population.
Of greater long-term consequence, MacArthur’s personal views did shape Amer­ican policy toward the imperial institution. A signiﬁcant group of “soft peace” ad­vocates in Washington favored preserving the emperor and using his prestige to le­gitimize occupation reforms. But this issue was not ﬁrmly settled as the occupation
began. In the fall of 1945, MacArthur emerged as a decisive supporter of the throne.
He sent home alarming reports of the threat to social order and American policies
that would ensue should Hirohito be forced to stand trial for war crimes or evensimply abdicate. His lobbying ensured that Japan’s postwar political system would bea hybrid form that some have called “imperial democracy.”13

Col

JAPANESE RESPONSES

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Despite the surface appearance of overwhelming American power in occupied Japan,
both elites and ordinary citizens retained space to interpret the reforms of the occu­
piers. SCAP ruled indirectly, implementing changes through the existing Japanesebureaucracy. This choice was probably inevitable. The occupiers simply did not havesufﬁcient personnel or language ability to staff a full government to put the vastchanges into practice. Instead SCAP’s General Headquarters (GHQ) consisted of ashadow government of smaller ofﬁces parallel to the Japanese government bureauc­
racy. SCAP/GHQ passed orders to its Japanese counterparts through a liaison ofﬁce
staffed by bilingual Japanese ofﬁcials. This structure offered government ofﬁcials andother wartime elites some important room to maneuver, whether to resist or reshape
the occupation directives.
Ordinary citizens likewise enjoyed considerable freedom to improvise upon theAmerican agenda. In such a context, the fate of reforms was only determined in partby the extent to which the occupiers consistently promoted them. Even more impor­tantly, it was determined by a transwar legacy of prewar and wartime history. Indi­
viduals and groups in Japanese society and government who had long been concernedwith shaping their modern institutions continued their efforts, in conﬂict with eachother as much as with the occupation forces.
Land reform, for example, proved to be one of the most thoroughgoing and longlived changes of the occupation era. Landlords had been on the defensive in the 1920s
and early 1930s. Organized groups of tenants had frequently confronted them with

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successful demands for rent reductions or more secure tenancy rights. Many landlords
had responded by selling off holdings. During the war, the government had stepped
in, less to promote social reform than to spur food production. Its program of subsi­
dized purchases of tenant rice further weakened the economic power of landlords. In
addition, bureaucrats within the Ministry of Agriculture had been calling for land
reform since the 1930s as a way to bring social stability to the countryside. And ofcourse, the tenants wanted to own their ﬁelds.
Land reform was thus a transwar endeavor, and this historical context explains thedeep, enduring impact of reforms initiated by SCAP. At the same time, SCAP certainly
pushed for reforms that went beyond the intentions of Japanese ofﬁcials themselves.
The Japanese government enacted its own land reform law in December 1945. SCAP
judged this to be too weak and demanded that the government draft a second reform
measure. A stronger law was approved in October 1946. It forced each landlord to sell
all but a small, family-sized plot of farmland to tenants at 1945 prices. Observers
joked—with justiﬁcation—that by the time the payments were actually made, inﬂation
had reduced the real cost of a tenant’s ﬁeld to the price of a carton of cigarettes.
In the realm of social policy, transwar continuities were important as well. Several
key Home Ministry bureaucrats had pushed for a labor union law in the late 1920s.
They were still at their jobs in 1945. The Home Ministry, seen by SCAP as a bastionof domestic repression, was the only bureau outside the military to be dissolved during
the occupation. But these ofﬁcials shifted to the new Labor Ministry (founded in1947). From this perch they oversaw the occupation labor reforms. They called forcooperation between management and labor, sometimes echoing the wartime rhetoricof the Industrial Patriotic Association. But they returned to their position of the 1920s
that a regulated system of unions and collective bargaining would bring the greatest
social stability, and most productive economy, in the long run.
Of equal importance, a minority of industrial workers had prewar experience inlabor unions. These people helped lead a great rush to embrace unions, collective
bargaining, and strikes. The labor movement also quickly drew in millions of newly
active men and women discontent with their low wages, poor job security, and lackof power in their working lives. Union membership surged from zero to nearly ﬁvemillion by the end of 1946. The proportion of wage workers in unions reached a peakof more than 56 percent of the work force by 1949.
Business leaders had no choice in the immediate postwar years of 1945–47 but
to give way to this powerful labor movement. They conceded large wage increases incollective bargaining. They concluded thousands of contracts that gave real power to
new labor-management councils including union representatives. In the face of strikes,
despite dire business circumstances, some of the nation’s leading employers revokedplans to dismiss workers.
But in contrast to the land reform, countervailing forces remained powerful in thecase of labor reform. Even as they made concessions, business leaders and many inthe government feared that militant unionism was leading straight to communism.
They were determined to change the balance of power and the character of unions.
Beginning in 1947 and 1948, as the Americans shifted their focus from democrati­
zation to promoting economic recovery, these managers were able to regain the upper
hand and cultivate enduring alliances with more cooperatively inclined union leaders.

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In the case of women’s rights, important political reforms took root thanks to analliance between reformers in SCAP’s headquarters and a small band of Japanesewomen who had been seeking the vote and other civil rights since the 1920s. In 1945,
even before revising the constitution, the Americans ordered the Japanese government
to give women the vote. In the ﬁrst postwar elections, thirty-nine women were electedto the Diet, accounting for just under 10 percent of the seats. Women’s suffrage wasa wildly popular reform.
Beyond political reform, SCAP put a powerful statement of social and legal
equality for women in the constitution. These clauses were the work of a remarkable
young woman, Beate Sirota, who had lived in Japan as a child in the 1930s and be­come ﬂuent in Japanese. She returned in 1945 as a recent college graduate working
as a researcher in SCAP ofﬁces. In the winter of 1946 Sirota suddenly found herself
appointed to the SCAP committee to draft the new Japanese constitution. She seized
the opportunity to author the provisions that guaranteed “the essential equality of thesexes” in marriage and all other legal matters pertaining to inheritance and thefamily.
In this instance, the existing balance of power and ideas was not congenial toradical change. Despite the presence of some Japanese feminists who supported basic
change in gender roles and power relations, the dominant position of males in thefamily and in society at large was not overturned by constitutional reform. Nonethe­less, Sirota’s constitutional provisions remained on the books. They provided a newcontext in which women and men would debate the merits of changed gender relations
for decades.
In some areas, the occupation reforms found little domestic support. The Amer­
icans came to Japan convinced that the zaibatsu trusts bore major responsibility for
expansionism and the war. Initial SCAP policy called for the zaibatsu owners to sell
off their assets and for the constituent corporations to be dissolved into independent,
smaller companies. But the bureaucrats charged with responsibility for postwar eco­nomic affairs were the same men who had forged close ties with the zaibatsu fromthe depression through the drive for wartime mobilization. They saw collaboration
between state bureaucrats and big business as the best strategy for economic recovery.
They viewed American policies to dissolve the zaibatsu as utterly naive. The postwar
political leadership agreed. At the same time, although the parties of the left opposed
capitalist monopolies, they did not oppose large-scale economic organizations in them­selves. They rather wanted a strong state to nationalize industries to serve workers
and the people. There was little intellectual or popular support for thoroughgoing freemarkets and economic deconcentration.
The program of zaibatsu dissolution therefore proceeded slowly. When the Amer­ican commitment shifted from reform to recovery, pressure on the zaibatsu diminished.
In the end, the power of the privately owned holding companies was destroyed, but
the zaibatsu enterprises regrouped around the banks of the dissolved combines. They
also proved willing to cooperate with state bureaucrats. This set in place a pattern ofbank-centered capitalism and bureaucratic guidance of the economy that persisted for
decades.
Likewise, American initiatives to decentralize the police and education systems
did not last. The projects reﬂected peculiar American ideas about the importance of237

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local self-government, which had no natural constituency in Japan. SCAP dictated thatcities, towns, and villages were to fund and control their own police departments.
Conservative politicians feared these forces would be ineffective at monitoring leftwing challenges. Local taxpayers, especially in small communities, were not enthu­
siastic about paying for their police forces. As the occupation ended, the government
gave communities the power to end support for local police. Most did so immediately,
and by 1954 a national police agency had been created. In similar fashion, a 1948
reform provided for elected local school boards throughout Japan, but the Japanese
government delayed implementation. After the occupation ended, a revised education
law replaced elected with appointed school boards. Fierce debate raged over the con­tent of education for decades, but neither conservative nor liberal or radical voices
were particularly concerned with carrying out the debate in autonomous local units.
The political context for such debates was a sharp division between parties of theleft and right. This divide also had prewar roots. After the ﬁve year hiatus of theImperial Rule Assistance Association, the two major prewar parties regrouped under
new names. The remnants of the Seiyūkai came together into the Liberal Party (Jiyūtō),
while the Minseitō politicians for the most part joined in a new Progressive Party(Shinpotō), which later evolved into the Democratic Party (Minshutō). Although theseparties managed to cling to power through most of the occupation era, they got off
to a rough start when the majority of their founding members were purged for theirrole as part of the wartime political elite. They were far less dominant than they had
been before the war.
The non-communist parties of the left, which had spoken on behalf of wage
laborers and tenant farmers before the war, had actually supported the wartime gov­
ernment with great enthusiasm. A number of their leaders were purged as well. None­theless, the surviving leaders of the prewar socialist camp formed the Japan Socialist
Party in late 1945. They won much support by criticizing the wartime regime and thepostwar successor elites of businessmen, bureaucrats, and “established” politicians.
And for the ﬁrst time, the Japan Communist Party was able to function openly andlegally. The communists were the one group with a consistent (underground) record
opposing the imperialism and expansionism of the prewar and war years, and theygained much moral support for these stands.
In elections of the 1920s and 1930s, the Seiyūkai and Minseitō had together
controlled roughly 80 to 90 percent of the votes. The proletarian parties had grownfrom as little as 3 or 4 percent of the vote in the ﬁrst elections under universal malesuffrage to almost 10 percent by the mid-1930s. After the war, the socialists andcommunists continued this upward trend. The socialists won 92 seats and 18 percentof the vote in the ﬁrst postwar election of 1946. They surged to 143 seats and 28
percent of the vote in a general election the following April 1947. The Communist
Party had greater strength in labor unions and among intellectuals than among the
populace at large; they managed just 3 to 4 percent of the vote and 4 or 5 seats inthese early postwar ballots. In addition, signiﬁcant numbers of independent candidates
won votes and seats, as many as 20 percent in the ﬁrst postwar election of April 1946.
As the left and these independents gained ground, the combined votes of the estab­lished parties fell to roughly 50 percent. (See Appendix B for detailed election results.)
Despite these opposition gains, the Liberal Party, led by Yoshida Shigeru, man­

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aged to form a cabinet after the 1946 election, working together with the other con­servative party. Yoshida was a former diplomat. He had served as Japan’s ambassador
to Great Britain in the late 1930s. He was a strong supporter of the Japanese empire
who energetically pushed the British to accept Japan’s hegemony in China. But
Yoshida kept some distance from the military during the war. He was the key supporterof Prince Konoe’s direct appeal to Hirohito in 1945 seeking to bring about an earlysurrender. For this effort, Yoshida had been brieﬂy put in jail in April 1945. The
episode gave him postwar legitimacy as a liberal who had opposed the military.
But his hold on power was tenuous. The socialists and communists rode a surgeof unionizing, strikes, and protest demonstrations over the next twelve months. They
criticized in particular the government’s corruption and mismanaging of the economy.
A broad coalition of unions planned a national “general strike” on February 1, 1947.
The stated goal was to overthrow the Yoshida cabinet. In dramatic fashion, SCAP
forbade this strike late on the night of January 31. This delivered a severe blow to
the revolutionary hopes of the communists and left-wing socialists. Even so, just twomonths later in April 1947, when the ﬁrst election was held under the new constitution,
the Japan Socialist Party won a plurality. They formed a government in coalition with
the Democratic Party, headed by the socialist leader Katayama Tetsu as prime minister.
In March 1948, Katayama was forced to step down after just eight months in ofﬁce.
The cabinet fell in part because his agenda to nationalize major industries was rejected,
although factional strife between the left and right wings of the party was the fun­damental cause. Even so the socialists continued as partners in a governing coalition,
this time led by the Democrats, which continued until the end of 1948. Japan appeared
to be on a political course in which socialist rule was a real possibility.
In fact, the Katayama cabinet proved to be a brief interlude of socialist powersharing. The liberals under Yoshida staged a major comeback in the elections of 1949.
They won over half the seats in the House of Representatives and were able to ruleon their own. The fact that this “established party” of prewar vintage managed sucha strong comeback is as impressive as the earlier gains of the socialist opposition. The
Liberal Party returned to power despite the fact that its Seiyūkai predecessor had
controlled the cabinet at the outset of Japan’s expansionist adventures in 1931–32.
And of course, despite his wartime call for an early surrender, the Liberal Party’s
prime minister, Yoshida Shigeru, had served as a loyal diplomat in the 1930s. One
could imagine many people condemning such politicians as responsible members of
the wartime elite that brought death and ruin to millions.
Despite this, the staying power of the prewar parties was substantial. It wasprobably rooted in fear of the unknown and a deep desire for the return of some
sort of familiar “normalcy.” Having been pushed to the margins of government in
the 1930s and 1940s, the Liberal and Democratic parties could present themselves
as reluctant wartime collaborators. They could claim to be champions of modest re­form, determined to rebuild a peaceful Japan but determined not to change toomuch. In addition, and perhaps even more important, it was this old guard that
could deliver the goods of state subsidies or protections to many of their prewar
supporters, from small and large businesses to farmers, including the new owners offormerly tenanted ﬁelds.
Thus, through the era of American occupation and beyond, the old guard par­ties returned to power based on their prewar experience and promises of normalcy

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Occupied Japanand political spoils. The socialists and communists emerged as leaders of acombative opposition, but they were to remain more or less permanently in theminority.

THE REVERSE COURSE

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The peak years of reform in Japan were also the years when tension in AmericanSoviet relations reached a peak. The Cold War came to the fore of international politics
in 1946 when Winston Churchill gave his famous speech about the Iron Curtain de­
scending in Europe. In 1947 American Secretary of State George Marshall announced
his famous plan to offer massive economic aid to promote European recovery. In Asia,
the Nationalists in China had been seen by the United States as the anchor to a postwar
Asian order. By 1947 they were losing ground to the communists. In Japan the So­
cialist Party was gaining ground at the polls, huge crowds were marching in the streets,
and the communists were dominating labor unions that planned strikes with explicitly
political goals.
These trends led to an important shift in the balance of power and views among
American government ofﬁcials. Even during the presurrender planning, some poli­
cymakers in Washington had questioned the assumption that far-reaching reform was
the best way to ensure a stable new Japan. These were members of the so-called Japan
crowd, led in Washington by Joseph Grew, the former ambassador to Japan. They
called for quite modest reforms. In Tokyo, key aides to MacArthur, in particular thechief of his intelligence staff General Charles Willoughby (referred to by MacArthuras “my pet fascist”), took a similar position.
In their view, the war was a slight misstep in which a few militarists had hijacked
a relatively sound and well-run ship of state. Simply dismantling the military andputting in place the basic laws of political democracy would be enough. Other reforms
went too far, they argued, toward a dangerous socially based democracy of the masses.
They advocated handing power back to the “responsible elements” of the prewar elite:business leaders and relatively pro-Western Foreign Ministry veterans such as Shide­hara Kijūrō and Yoshida Shigeru. They supported using the emperor as an anchor tokeep Japan socially conservative and cohesive.
Beginning in 1947, such attitudes began to shape policies in Washington andTokyo. These new departures have come to be known as the occupation’s “reverse
course.” In 1948 the Americans sharply scaled back plans to dissolve the former
subsidiaries of the zaibatsu combines, and in 1949 they relinquished all claims to war
reparations. In 1948 SCAP encouraged the Japanese government to revise the new
postwar labor laws to outlaw strikes by public employees and weaken protective labor
standards. They encouraged the Japanese to create a national police force beginning
as early as 1947 and promoted Japanese rearmament (within limits) thereafter.
The Americans also promoted a crackdown on the Japan Communist Party. In
1950, the Japanese government launched the so-called Red Purge with SCAP en­
couragement. Roughly thirteen thousand people alleged to be Communist Party mem­bers were ousted from their public or private sector jobs, on the grounds that theirpolitical activities were impeding the goals of the occupation. This was the same
justiﬁcation for the 1945–46 SCAP purge of wartime leaders. The Red Purge coin­cided with the de-purging of some of these men, who quickly returned to prominent

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positions in the political world. It was perhaps the most dramatic example of the“reverse course.”
The shift in American policy was very controversial at the time. It remains a topic
of debate among historians, especially those in Japan. Some condemn the reverse
course as an American betrayal of an immediate postwar promise to build a true
democracy, which then enabled the Japanese elite to continue a program of reaction
and reversal after the occupation ended. Others praise the new direction as a prudent
step, necessary to ensure stability and the long-run success of earlier reforms.
Coupled with the initial decision to retain the imperial institution, the shifting
American policy did make Japan’s postwar transformation less thoroughgoing than it
would have been. The Red Purge surely changed the political balance in many laborand cultural organizations. But the reverse course left some crucial early reforms
untouched, including the new constitution and the land reform. It did not rig elections
or shut down newspapers or prevent defenders of the peace clause (article 9) in theconstitution from continuing their activity. It changed the political environment, but it
did not simply determine the outcome of ongoing contention among vigorous actors
in political or cultural life. The shifting course of American reforms was part of an
improvised recipe for stabilization that ﬁrst opened politics to an unprecedented degree
and then shored up the many surviving elements of the old order.

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TOWARD RECOVERY AND INDEPENDENCE: ANOTHER UNEQUAL TREATY?

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Economic recovery was also a basic ingredient of postwar stabilization. At the outsetof the occupation, SCAP rejected any responsibility for helping Japan’s economy torevive. Left to their own devices in an uncertain context, business leaders combined
fear with greed in disastrous ways. The early postwar government offered reconstruc­tion subsidies to major ﬁrms in hopes the funds would be used to revive production.
Rather than processing them into ﬁnished goods, businesses found it more proﬁtable
to use these funds to buy and resell raw materials to black market brokers. Many of
the industrial plants that had survived stood idle. From 1945 to 1949, inﬂation surged
out of control. As one American on the scene recalled: “For four years after the war,
the great inﬂation hung over Japan like some immense, brooding presence . . . By
1949, when inﬂation was ﬁnally contained, the price level had risen 150 times in four
years.”
The ﬁrst glimmer of hope in the effort to revive conﬁdence and restart production
came in 1947. Economic policymakers observed a vicious cycle of coal shortages that
inhibited the recovery of other industries, especially the crucial iron and steel industry,in turn keeping coal demand low. Their answer was the Priority Production program.
Drawing on wartime experience, bureaucrats in the Ministry of Commerce allocatedboth coal and imported fuel on a preferential basis to steelmakers. This allowed steel
companies to revive production and feed steel back to the coal industry, which in turn
could rebuild the mining infrastructure and raise productivity. The program succeeded
modestly in reviving both industries and generating coal supplies for other customers.
But throughout 1948 the economy remained relatively stagnant, and inﬂa­tion continued to surge. The Americans were now committed to Japan as Asia’s “bul­wark against communism,” in the words of Secretary of the Army Kenneth Royall.

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They were now anxious to promote economic recovery. George Kennan, among themost important American strategists of the postwar era, put it bluntly in October
1949:[T]he terriﬁc problem [is] how then the Japanese are going to get along unless they
reopen some sort of Empire toward the South. Clearly we have got . . . to achieve
opening up of trade possibilities, commercial possibilities for Japan on a scale very
far greater than anything Japan knew before. It is a formidable task.14

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As a step in this direction, the United States in February 1949 sent a special
ﬁnancial advisor to Tokyo, a Detroit banker named Joseph Dodge. He was an orthodox
economist who detested government support or regulation of the economy. SCAP took
his advice and imposed a harsh medicine in three doses: a balanced budget, the sus­
pending of all state loans to industry, and the abolition of all state subsidies. SCAP
also followed the advice to set a favorable exchange rate of 360 yen to the dollar toencourage Japanese exports. This “Dodge line” program indeed halted inﬂation, but
industry found itself starved for capital. In the spring of 1950, a year after this deﬂa­
tionary program had been implemented, Japan appeared on the brink not of recovery
but of a deepening depression.
In June 1950, just as it appeared SCAP’s medication might kill the patient, theKorean War began. This tragedy across the straits conferred great fortune on Japan.
With the war came a surge of American military procurement orders placed withJapanese industries, which were located conveniently close to the front. In the years
1951–53, war procurements amounted to about two billion dollars, or roughly 60
percent of all Japan’s exports.15 Japanese leaders tastelessly celebrated what Prime
Minister Yoshida called a “gift of the gods” and businessmen dubbed “blessed rainfrom heaven.”16 From 1949 to 1951 exports nearly tripled, and production rose nearly
70 percent. Corporations began to show proﬁts for the ﬁrst time since the surrender,
and they responded with a surge of investment in new plants and equipment. The
gross national product began to increase at double-digit rates. Japan’s recovery was
underway.
With reforms in place and the economy on the mend, and with the Korean War
placing great demands on American military resources, pressures in Washington
mounted to end the occupation. The end came sooner than many had anticipated; in1945, some top ofﬁcials in the United States had spoken of the need to occupy Japanfor two decades, or even a century. As it turned out, the era of formal occupation
lasted just under seven years.
Some of America’s wartime allies were reluctant to sign a treaty so quickly thatwould bring the occupation to a close. The British, the Chinese, and Southeast Asian
governments wanted a harsh peace with reparations paid and with strong guarantees
against a revival of the Japanese military. Led by Secretary of State John Foster Dulles,
the United States negotiated vigorously on multiple fronts to hasten a settlement. It
concluded defense agreements with the Philippines, Australia, and New Zealand thatassuaged the fears of these nations. Asian nations were also given the right to follow
the treaty by negotiating bilateral reparations agreements with Japan. In September
1951, representatives of forty-eight nations met in San Francisco and signed a treaty
to end the state of war that still formally existed with Japan. The occupation ofﬁciallyended in April 1952.

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Several key issues remained unresolved. The United States retained control of
Okinawa indeﬁnitely, although most Japanese saw the island as part of their nation.
Both the Republic of China (Taiwan) and the mainland People’s Republic of China
wanted to sign the treaty as the sole Chinese government. Neither was invited to thepeace conference, and Japan was instructed to reach agreements on its own. And theSoviet Union and other European communist states walked out of the conference.
They were particularly angry that a large force of American troops was going toremain in Japan after the occupation ended. The Soviets retained control of several
disputed islands just north of Hokkaido.
Two hours after the San Francisco treaty was signed, the United States and Japan
ratiﬁed the controversial U.S.–Japan Security Treaty. It granted the United States theright to keep bases and troops in Japan. The ofﬁcial mission of the troops was toprotect Japan from attack and guarantee international peace and security. From theperspective of the Americans and many in Asia, the function of the American troops
was to contain Japan as much as to protect it. Not surprisingly, the security treaty
faced much opposition in Japan. Some on the political left quite logically saw it as a
violation of Japanese neutrality and the principle of unarmed peace enshrined in theconstitution. They feared that U.S. troops made Japan a lightning rod for an attack by
America’s enemies. Others on the left, together with many in the conservative camp,
saw the treaty—again with considerable justiﬁcation—less as a violation of Japanese
neutrality than as a betrayal of its sovereignty. They scorned Prime Minister Yoshida
for accepting a “subordinate independence.” Yoshida indeed had been convinced forseveral years that an American military presence and a secure, if subordinate, place
in a Pax Americana was the best Japan could hope to achieve. He got his way. But
the agreement that some labeled a “second unequal treaty” would be subject to ﬁerce
debate and political struggle for decades.

Arya

The occupation forces arrived in 1945 determined to engineer a root-and-branch trans­
formation of Japan. They did change a great deal, but a considerable portion of theold order of imperial Japan, and the revised order of wartime mobilization, remainedin place when the Americans packed their bags in 1952.
The occupiers had intended to destroy the zaibatsu, seen as the moneybags ofmilitarism. They had intended to destroy the centralized control held by the bureauc­racy over key realms such as education and policing. They had intended to purge frompublic life, forever, the militarists in the army and navy and their supporters in civilian
life, politicians and businessmen as well as intellectuals.
Japan’s American rulers made attempts in each of these areas. But by the early
1950s, the subsidiaries of the prewar zaibatsu were on the way toward regrouping
around banks instead of holding companies, the prewar political parties had survived
to dominate the Diet and cabinet, and the civilian bureaucracy was as strong as ever,or perhaps even stronger. These enduring features of political and economic life arewhat one historian has called the “passage through” of the old guard, from prewar,
through war, to postwar.17
The relative stability of postwar Japan, however, rested on more than continuity
in the power of the old guard, even though various transwar continuities noted earlier

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Occupied Japan

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were important. The postwar order also was rooted in great changes that would endure:in civil rights granted under the constitution as well as in land reform, labor reform,
and legal changes for women that went well beyond what Japan’s rulers would haveenacted on their own. These gave more people than ever a stake in the system. The
postwar stabilization of Japan was far from a static process involving little change. It
was precisely the result of massive change. Reforms accelerated changes underway
and set renewed struggles in motion. The political and social realm ultimately settled
into a sort of isometric stability: Important, and occasionally explosive, tensions re­mained at the center of society, culture, and politics, but these were ultimately
contained.
Over the next several decades, as the economy boomed, the three interlocking
institutions of big business, establishment political parties, and the bureaucracy
achieved a remarkably durable hegemony. This postwar stability was importantly
rooted in the “passage through” of the old guard. But one also sees great social
stability anchored in large and growing middle classes focusing their energies on
gaining a stake in the system through education and employment in factories as well
as ofﬁce buildings. This was the legacy of the reforms.

P
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POSTWAR AND
CONTEMPORARY JAPAN14
Economic and Social Transformations

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The Japanese economy expanded at a stunning pace from 1950 through the early
1970s. These two decades, beginning with the Korean War boom, have come to becalled the “era of high speed growth” by historians. At unprecedented speed, Japanchanged from a site of destruction and poverty to a place of prosperity. How did thishappen? The so-called economic miracle was in part produced through the transform­
ing magic of the market. But in important and distinctive ways, it was a managed
miracle guided by the Japanese state. The experience of high growth was also a costly
one. Jobs were often grinding, with long hours and tight discipline. Beneﬁts were
unevenly distributed between cities and country, between men and women, and be­
tween employees at large and small workplaces. Environmental damage was immense.
The political struggles over these costs and contradictions of growth will be coveredin the following chapter.
Change came more slowly in the realm of social experience. But several years
after the postwar economy took off—from roughly the late 1950s into the 1960s—a
postwar society took shape that differed greatly from the transwar Japan of the war­time or immediate postwar era. A way of life identiﬁed with what people called the“new middle class” rose to prominence. The middle class in Japan presented a pow­
erful set of standardized images of a typical life. More people than ever came to sharein experiences understood as those of middle-class or “mainstream” society. None­theless, some important social divisions persisted, and others were reshaped but noterased.
Japanese leaders in the bureaucracy and ruling political party, working in tandemwith corporate executives, actively sought to manage these trends toward more stan­
dardized patterns of middle-class social life. A variety of programs supported partic­
ular versions of family and domestic life, schooling, and the workplace. Like its eco­nomic history, the social history of postwar Japan was shaped by numerous state
programs to inﬂuence the thought and behavior of ordinary citizens.

THE POSTWAR “ECONOMIC MIRACLE”
Over the twenty-three years from 1950 to 1973, Japan’s gross national product (GNP;
the total value of goods and services produced in a year) expanded by an average
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annual rate of more than 10 percent. Such a record of growth over such a long periodof time had never been seen in world economic history (the People’s Republic ofChina since the 1980s has grown with comparable speed). Only a few minor down­turns, such as that in 1954 caused by the end of the Korean War, show up as slightdips on a growth chart that runs smoothly and sharply upward (see Figure 14.1).
Measured in U.S. dollars, the Japanese GNP totaled just $11 billion in 1950. By 1955
it had more than doubled to about $25 billion. By 1973 it had increased an additional
thirteen-fold, to $320 billion. Measured comparatively, the Japanese economy stoodat 7 percent of the American in 1955 and ranked below all the major European
economies. By 1973, Japan’s GNP had climbed to nearly one-third of the American
total. Its economy was the third largest in the world, after the United States and Soviet
Union (see Table 14.1).
Equally remarkable was the sustained and massive investment in new technology
and manufacturing plants. The standard measure for such basic investment is grosscapital formation. During the heart of Japan’s high-growth era, from 1955 to 1973,
rates of capital formation averaged more than 22 percent per year. As with GNP, these
rates are historically and comparatively without parallel.
While such growth had no precedent, the change in economic structure had his­
torical roots. At the cutting edge of the postwar surge stood producers in iron andsteel, shipbuilding, automobiles, and electronics. Most of these same heavy industries—and many of the same companies—had led the economic surge of the milita­
rized economy of the 1930s. They now proved able to prosper through peacetime as
they had during wartime. The overall weight of heavy industrial production increased
from 45 percent in 1955 to 62 percent by 1970, and the prominence of light industries
such as textiles fell sharply.
As early as 1962, the British magazine Economist ran a feature story on what it
called Japan’s postwar “economic miracle.”1 The term stuck. It has come to be ashorthand description of the postwar decades of high growth. Historians and econo­
mists have produced a growth industry of their own trying to offer logical, this-worldly
explanations for this seemingly astounding development.
One important part of the postwar story was the unusually favorable interna­
tional environment. Economies boomed in other countries as well—observers used
the term “economic miracle” for Germany as well as for Japan. The global econ­
omy overall grew unusually fast in the 1950s and 1960s, at a rate of 5 percent per
year. The United States led the way in negotiating a more open trading systemthrough treaties such as the General Agreement on Trade and Tariffs in (GATT) in
1947. As a result, the total volume of international trade more than tripled overthese two decades. In addition, cheap and reliable energy supplies in the form of oilfrom the Middle East and elsewhere fueled industrial expansion at relatively low
costs. Finally, in this more open world economy, relatively affordable licensing
agreements gave Japanese (and other) businesses unusually open access to a host of
new technologies from transistors to steel furnaces. These allowed productivity torise quickly and consistently.
But this conjuncture of international fortune smiled on the entire capitalist world.
Why did Japan’s economy grow with particular speed? A few of the international

247

Economic and Social Transformations
GNP

100

60
1973–75
monetary
tightness
Oil crisis

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8

Private firms' plant andequipment investment

His1954 monetary tightness
1954 recession
Boom in volume
Jimmu boom
1957 monetary tightness
Lingering recession

52

10

Izanamiboom oflatter halfof 1960s

Expansion without a boom
1964 monetary tightness
1965 recession

Korean War boom

¥ (1970 prices, trillions of yen)20

1961–62 monetary tightness

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1951 53

Figure 14.1

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55

58

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60

62
61

64
63

66
65

68
67

70
69

72
71

74
73

76
75

Real GNP and Capital Formation, 1951–76

Source: Economic Planning Agency, Kokumin shotoku tōkei nenpō, adapted in Nakamura Takafusa, The Postwar
Japanese Economy (Tokyo: Tokyo University Press, 1981), p. 35. Reprinted with permission.

factors favored Japan more than others. America’s continued military presence andthe constitutional limitation on Japan’s own military spared the government from highdefense costs. The Korean War stimulated exports at a key moment. And a favorable
exchange rate from 1949 through the early 1970s functioned as a sort of export
subsidy.

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TABLE 14.1 Nominal GNP of Five Major Nations, 1951–80 (amounts in$U.S. billion)

Japan

United States

West Germany

FranceGreat Britain

1951
1955

14.2
22.7

328.4
398.0

28.5
43.0

35.1
49.2

41.4
53.9

1960
1965
1970
1975
1980

39.1
88.8
203.1
498.2
1,040.1

503.8
688.1
992.7
1,549.2
2,633.1

70.7
115.1
184.6
418.2
816.5

60.0
99.2
145.5
339.0
657.1

71.9
100.2
124.0
234.5
525.5

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Source: Keizai Kōhō Sentaa, Japan: An International Comparison (Tokyo: Keizai Kōhō Sentaa, (1983), p. 5.

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But a full explanation of economic growth must look in addition to domestic
factors. Entrepreneurship is one of them. A new generation of daring younger man­agers took charge of established companies and founded new ones. They were helpedin part by the occupation era purges, which forced many top managers of the wartime
economy into early retirement. In several famous cases, they deﬁed the cautious warn­
ings of government bureaucrats to invest in new ﬁelds and new technologies, despite
the presence of experienced global competitors.
The government advised automakers, for example, to consolidate via mergers, thebetter to compete with Detroit’s Big Three. Instead, Toyota, Nissan, Isuzu, Tōyō Kōgyō (Mazda), and Mitsubishi all decided to produce full lines. Even more remarkably,
an upstart motorcycle company founded by Honda Sōichirō deﬁed bureaucratic warn­
ings and entered the auto market in 1963 with great long-run success. In similar
fashion, a bold executive in Kawasaki Heavy Industries, Nishiyama Yatarō, spun off
his company’s metal division to found a new iron-and steelmaker in 1950. He proposeda massive investment in a fully integrated, state-of-the-art iron and steel plant. Whenstate bureaucrats denied access to domestic capital, he obtained funding outside Japan,
from the World Bank. By 1961, the Kawasaki Steel Company had established itself
as the fourth largest producer in the nation. And in 1953, two young mavericks, Morita
Akio and Ibuka Masaru, struggled for months with reluctant state ofﬁcials before
winning permission to purchase a license to make transistors. Beginning with the radioin the 1950s, their infant company, Sony, soon emerged as the global leader in quality
and innovation in consumer electronic goods.
In general, Japanese private companies expanded quickly and fearlessly. Theyborrowed massive amounts from banks and took on large debts. Private banks, as wellas public institutions such as the Industrial Development Bank, drew on individual
savings to channel capital to businesses large and small. The typical ratio of debt toequity for a Japanese company in the high growth era stood at 75 : 25, far different
from the prewar economy, where a typical debt level was closer to 40 percent. Because
output and revenue (aided by inﬂation) grew so quickly, corporations were able torepay these loans without major trouble.

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The high quality of human capital was another important domestic factor that
boosted the postwar economy. As compulsory education was extended through middle
school under the occupation, young working people in Japan were increasingly welleducated. Employees of all ages were delighted at the prospect of a return to normalcy
and a chance to work for themselves, instead of sacriﬁcing for the military. An un­
precedented proportion of the work force joined labor unions—over 50 percent at thepeak in the late 1940s and early 1950s. Organized workers were often militant in theiractions and demands. But they were also energetic and committed on the job, willingto work long hours and master new skills. As new technologies came on line andwere used effectively, productivity increased substantially. Labor productivity in man­ufacturing rose 88 percent in the decade from 1955 through 1964.
In addition to working hard as producers, ordinary Japanese played importantroles as both savers and spenders. In sharp contrast to the prewar era, but continuing
trends from the war years, ordinary Japanese wage earners saved unusually high pro­portions of their income. The average household saved under 10 percent of its incomein the early 1950s, but savings rates soared steadily as the economy grew. Theyreached 15 percent by 1960 and topped 20 percent by 1970. Households have contin­
ued to save in excess of 20 percent of income since then. These funds, deposited insavings accounts of commercial banks or in the government-run postal savings system,
made up a vast pool of capital available for investment in industry.
But even as they saved, ordinary citizens happily spent their growing salaries ona wide range of consumer goods. To be sure, export markets were crucial to theeconomy; exports earned dollars that were vital to ﬁnance continued investment inforeign technology. But from the 1950s through the early 1970s, exports accounted
for just 11 percent of GNP. Over the same time span, the capitalist economies ofWestern European nations exported an average of 21 percent of their GNP.2 Domestic
demand, including the retail consumer market, was therefore a signiﬁcant engine of
growth. Consumers, like industrial producers, continued trends of the 1920s and 1930s
that were interrupted by the war. They ﬂocked to stores to buy a widening array ofhousehold and leisure goods: washing machines and electric rice cookers, radios,record players, and then televisions. These were costly purchases. In 1957, a typicalnew TV sold for eighty-ﬁve thousand yen, roughly two and one-half months’ income
for an average urban family. Nonetheless, by 1963, more than four of every ﬁvehouseholds in the nation owned a television. Overall, real per capita domestic con­sumption rose at an annual rate of 7.5 percent between 1955 and 1973.3
The most controversial domestic element in postwar economic history is the roleof the Japanese state. The government did not run a “command economy” on theSoviet model. Private businesses took signiﬁcant initiatives, sometimes against ofﬁcial
advice. But even so, Japan’s postwar economic story is not a simple tale of a freemarket miracle. State management, which grew out of practices improvised in the
prewar and war years, was extensive. These practices are summed up by the termindustrial policy, and they made a difference.
The Japanese government (assisted by SCAP during the occupation era) retained
important wartime powers over access to key resources such as foreign exchange andtechnology licenses. It used these powers as levers to support some business ventures

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and discourage others. In the immediate postwar years, this formal authority playeda major role. Over time, the weight of state intervention shifted to more informal
practices not written into law, called “administrative guidance.” The most important
guiding agency was the Ministry of International Trade and Industry (MITI). It was
the successor to the prewar Ministry of Commerce, which became the Munitions
Ministry at the height of the war. This agency was renamed the Ministry of Commerceand Industry in 1945 and was once more relabeled, as MITI, in 1949. Other govern­
ment bureaus that played important roles included the ministries of Finance, Transport,
Construction, and Post and Telecommunications and the Economic Planning Agency.
At the most general level, the government fostered a climate of conﬁdence byacting as economic cheerleader and sign-painter. A series of “ﬁve-year plans” issued
by the Economic Planning Agency beginning in 1948 had no binding force. But they
signaled to private investors that the state was interested in the success of certain in­
dustries and stood ready to step in as lender; as facilitator of access to foreignexchange, raw materials, or technology licenses; and as rescuer should problems
arise. The government role as business booster brought a certain (perhaps jealous)scorn from foreigners. In one famous incident in 1962, the French president Charles
Degaulle referred to visiting Prime Minister Ikeda Hayato as “that transistor
salesman.”
In more hands-on fashion, state bureaus protected and nurtured nascent industries.
Through the 1960s, they used old-fashioned tariffs as one tool to limit imports. In
addition, a Japanese company needed to convert yen to dollars in order to import andrequired government permission to buy dollars. The government could use this power
to obstruct imports and protect Japanese ﬁrms from foreign competitors in domestic
markets. The state also nurtured favored Japanese companies with all manner of ben­eﬁts. Government lending agencies offered low-interest loans to targeted industries.
Bureaucrats arranged technology licenses and gave tax breaks to ﬁrms in sectors des­ignated for growth. A rush to invest in such ﬁrms often resulted in excess capacity.
In such cases, MITI might broker a “depression cartel.” These were industrywide
agreements by which major ﬁrms coordinated their cuts in output to ensure that all
were able to survive.
The beneﬁts of such practices could be substantial, and they were not necessarily
limited to privileged insiders. In the 1950s, to give one example, MITI pressured the
major iron and steel producers to share the costs, and the beneﬁts, of a single license
for the cutting-edge technology of the basic oxygen furnace. The free market alter­
native would have been for each interested producer to pay the Austrian inventor for
its own separate license. Japanese producers in this way obtained a critical technology
for a small fraction of the cost borne by American steelmakers.4 They were then able
to forge ahead of their global competitors by more swiftly building a new generationof production facilities.
This informal mechanism of state intervention in the economy came to be calledadministrative guidance. It was a cornerstone of the transwar political economy. Itdrew on relationships and practices ﬁrst improvised in programs from the 1920s and1930s to rationalize industrial production by encouraging or compelling cartels inmajor industries. Bureaucrats in the postwar era further developed these practices ofmanaged capitalism, but they used less coercive forms of persuasion than during the251

Economic and Social Transformations

war. They left more room for the market to reward those who used government help
effectively, and their interaction with businessmen proved considerably moreconstructive.

TRANSWAR PATTERNS OF COMMUNITY, FAMILY, SCHOOL, AND WORK

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The concept of a transwar system can be used to describe political and economic
arrangements improvised from the depression through the war and into the postwar
era: industrial policy and the reorganization of business combines, labor-management
relations, women’s changing roles in the labor force, or agrarian land reform. It isalso possible to speak of a set of transwar social patterns. For the ﬁrst decade or soafter World War II, the social structure and the texture of people’s lives shared muchwith a transwar era that stretched from roughly the 1920s to the 1950s. A heteroge­
neous society was marked by enduring diversity and division in community and family
life, in schools, and in workplaces.
Wartime scarcity, bombing, and evacuation had brieﬂy devastated urban society
in the early 1940s. But a vibrant city life revived even before the economy recovered.
The ﬂow of migrants to major cities, underway since the nineteenth century, resumed
as well. In the 1950s and 1960s, roughly one million people left the countryside for
cities each year. The gradual spread of suburban living had started with the construc­tion of commuter rail lines and new residential neighborhoods in the 1910s and 1920s.
Cities such as Tokyo and Osaka continued to sprawl in the 1950s and 1960s. They
served as magnets for those looking for a bright, new, modern life. Japan’s urban
population rose from 38 percent of the nation in 1950 to 75 percent by 1975.
Migration to the cities did not deplete the countryside. After the war, millions ofsoldiers came home to rejoin their families or start new ones. The result, in Japan as
elsewhere, was a dramatic baby boom. At the peak from 1947 to 1949, births num­
bered nearly 2.7 million per year. Overall, between 1945 and 1955 the population ofJapan increased by 18.6 million. This sharp rise kept the rural population high evenwhile millions moved to the cities. Japan’s agricultural population at the end of WorldWar II accounted for roughly 50 percent of the populace, or 36 million people. A
decade later in 1955 this absolute number of people stood unchanged, although theproportion of the population in rural areas had fallen. Dynamic urban and rural so­cieties were part of the heterogeneity of transwar Japanese life.
The transwar social world was also notable for the diversity in the way peoplecame to be educated and earn their livings. Despite occupation era reforms, the school
system through the 1950s remained a hierarchy with three very different, and quite
respectable, exit points: the end of middle school, the end of high school, and grad­uation from college or university. From the late 1940s through the 1950s increased
numbers of youths advanced to high school, but even in 1955 roughly half of all
youths ended their education when they graduated middle school. Another third com­pleted high school, and approximately 15 percent went on to college.
This education-based hierarchy with roots in the prewar and wartime eras con­nected neatly to the workplaces of the 1950s. Middle-school graduates, both male andfemale, took jobs as blue-collar operatives with relatively limited future prospects.
Boys leaving high school could enter skilled production or clerical positions with a

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reasonable expectation of rising at least to foreman, in some cases beyond. Girls withhigh school degrees could move into secretarial jobs in the ofﬁces of prestigious
companies. Male university graduates entered elite managerial positions in corporate
and bureaucratic ofﬁces. But, as in most of the industrial capitalist world of the early
postwar decades, women graduating from universities faced tremendous barriers tosuch careers, with occasional exceptions such as teaching in public schools. Genderand education in these ways combined to channel people into jobs with sharply dif­ferent levels of responsibility and pay.
As in the prewar era, the world of work was extraordinarily diverse. While asigniﬁcant minority followed their education by working for wages outside thehome—whether in factories or mines, in government ofﬁces, or at companies large
and small—the majority of adults in the city as well as the countryside continued towork in small, home-based family businesses or farms. In the 1950s, as before thewar, more than half of the nation’s labor force consisted of family members working
on a family farm or ﬁshing boat or in a small family-owned retail, wholesale, ormanufacturing shop. The husband would be counted as the business owner. The wife,
on a farm or in a vegetable market or a barber shop, would work alongside, counted
as “family labor.” Government statisticians did not classify these women as “employ­ees.” Typically they shared the overall revenues as a family member but received nowages. From the 1930s through the 1950s, well over two-thirds of women workers
fell into this category of family labor. These women and their families were the coreof Japan’s “old middle class” of the prewar and transwar era: shopkeepers, small
traders, and small manufacturers. They remained a dominant presence in the neigh­borhoods of postwar Japanese towns and cities.
Variety in family type was part of the transwar social pattern as well. Nuclear
families had already accounted for 54 percent of all families in the 1920s. Most of
the remainder were extended families of three generations under one roof. Transwar
society was marked by the coexistence of these two forms of family life.
The material conditions of daily life of the 1950s also retained qualities that werepart of an old transwar world more than a new postwar one. Photographs of the 1950s
resemble those of the 1930s more than the 1970s. People in the countryside wore
sandals and kimono-style everyday clothing. Houses still had thatched roofs, roads were
unpaved, and oxen plowed ﬁelds. Labor on farms was scarcely mechanized. A pho­tograph of a young woman’s hands taken in 1963 could just as well have been takenfrom the early days of the century. Farmwork was arduous and literally left scars. Some
exciting consumer innovations were spreading in cities and in the countryside. But until
the late 1950s, these consumer goods were not basically different from those of the
1920s and 1930s: electric lighting, radios, record players, and telephones.
The routines of daily life were similarly enduring from prewar days through the1950s, with a similar mix of the cosmopolitan and the local. A social survey of“laboring households” in the Tokyo region in 1950 revealed that more than two hoursof a woman’s average day—every day—were devoted to sewing. Some of this do­
mestic work was done with sewing machines, following store-bought patterns. It waspart of a commercial world of fashion that had been celebrated ﬂamboyantly in de­partment stores since early in the twentieth century. But much sewing, whether by

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Courtesy of Mr. Minami Yoshikazu.

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The hands of a twenty-one-year-old farm daughter in 1963. One can easily imagine the difﬁ­
cult work, both in the home and in the ﬁelds, that is etched in these lines. The photo attests
to the continuity in rural society and farming technology from the early twentieth century
through the 1950s. Not until the fruits of high growth allowed farmers to mechanize theiroperations in the 1960s and afterward did the work routines of rural society change
fundamentally.

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hand or machine, consisted of mending old clothing. The role of homemaker thus
remained a time-consuming occupation demanding considerable skill. The modern
consumer realm of ready-to-wear clothing coexisted with a signiﬁcant realm of homebased, noncommercial reproductive activity.
In other ways, as well, a local world of home-based, partially commercialized
activity coexisted with a world of mass, bureaucratized, proﬁt-seeking institutions.
Cultural and leisure activity through the 1950s, as before the war, remained tied tocommunity events such as festivals at Shinto shrines or Buddhist temples or holiday
visits to nearby sites or ancestral villages. The great milestones of individual andfamily life—birth, marriage, death—were commemorated in relatively intimate set­tings. The vast majority of people in Japan until the late 1950s were born at home,
not in hospitals. They were attended by midwives, not doctors. Most people died athome. Funerals and weddings usually took place at large rural homes or at temples
and shrines, rather than at commercial establishments dedicated to providing these
services.5

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POSTWAR ERA

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Profound social changes then took place across the decades of rapid growth. To an
important extent, the economic ground had been equalized by events of the war and
immediate postwar years, ranging from the ﬁre-bombings and SCAP’s land and labor
reforms to the massive inﬂation that destroyed much of the wealth of the prewar elites.
Against this background, trends toward standardized ways of life accelerated sharply
as the economy grew. The gap between rural and urban life shrank. A greater majority
than before came to grow up in nuclear, rather than extended, families. The gap
between those with higher and basic education diminished. The extent of hierarchy
within many workplaces also decreased. It would be a mistake to overstate this decline
in social division and produce a false stereotype of Japan since the 1970s as a paradiseof homogeneity. But it is undeniable that from the 1950s through the 1970s the realmof shared experience among people in Japan expanded, as transwar gave way to post­
war society.
The spread of shared experience was accelerated by physical changes in the land­
scape that brought people more easily and quickly in contact with each other. In 1946
barely more than 1 percent of Japan’s 900,000 kilometers of roads were paved. By
1970, 15 percent of roads had been covered with pavement, including a modest 640
kilometers of toll expressways. By 1980 the paved total had tripled to 46 percent of
all roads. The high-speed “bullet train” began service between Osaka and Tokyo in
1964. This cut travel time between the two cities from eight to three hours. Knownas the bullet train outside Japan, it was more prosaically called the “new trunk line”(shinkansen) in Japanese. But the train was anything but ordinary. It both transformed
the sense of distance between Japan’s greatest urban centers and stood as a proud
symbol of technological achievement in the forefront of global progress.
As the landscape was literally bulldozed at a rapid pace, the countryside began
to shrink in a ﬁgurative sense as well. Both the number as well as the proportion of
full-time farmers declined sharply and steadily, from 2.1 million full-time farm house­holds in 1955 to well under half that number (830,000) in 1970. The proportion of
the labor force employed in agriculture fell below 20 percent by 1970. But part-time
farming expanded simultaneously. Mechanization—and the small size of the average
landholding—made this possible, as did the movement of new forms of employment
to the countryside. Using better roads, and able to afford motorcycles and cars,
working-age people began commuting from villages to jobs at factories or ofﬁces innearby towns or cities. At home, grandparents took care of grandchildren and tended
vegetable or rice ﬁelds. The adult children would help on the weekends. Farm villagescame to resemble suburban communities, emptied of adult men and women on week­days. By the 1970s this transformation of the countryside had diminished the gap inlifestyles between people in rural, urban, and suburban Japan. In extreme cases thedemographic shift to the cities had created empty ghost villages. More typically, ruralvillages survived in this new form.
At the heart of the standardization of social experience across the landscape wasa process in which large-scale, bureaucratic, and commercial institutions touched people’s lives to an unprecedented degree. Public schooling and military service had

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deﬁned the modern social experience since the nineteenth century, but other institu­
tions expanded their reach dramatically in the postwar era. Hospitals became the al­most universal sites for birth and death: In 1955 82 percent of childbirths took place
at home; in 1975 the proportion was a mere 1.2 percent.6 Weddings were transformed
into lavish and costly spectacles, aggressively marketed and expertly performed inthousands of hotels and wedding halls nationwide.7 Funerals and the various anniver­sary memorial services of Buddhist observance were also increasingly provided bysuch enterprises. As bullet trains, automobiles, and jet travel came within reach of the
middle class, standard commercial packages of mass tourism at home and abroad
surged in popularity. In 1960, just 120,000 people traveled overseas. By 1970, thenumber was nearly one million, and by 1980 nearly four million Japanese citizens
traveled outside the country.
Two key sites for this standardization of social experience were schools and work­
places. Education changed greatly from the end of the 1950s through the 1960s. The
high school entry rate soared. From about 50 percent in 1955, it reached 82 percentof the potential cohort in 1970 and 94 percent by 1980. Large proportions of students
also went on to two- or four-year colleges. By 1975, 35 percent of high school grad­uates entered college each year, a rate exceeding most European societies and ap­
proaching that of the United States. Only a tiny minority ended their schooling before
high school. The education hierarchy had been compressed from three tiers to two.
As before, public universities were the most prestigious ports of entry to elite
positions. But one important feature of mass higher education sets this era off sharply
from the transwar years (and later decades): Access was remarkably equal. In the
1960s, the children of the poorest families in the nation won admission in precise
proportion to their numbers in the overall population (see Table 14.2).8 This was astunningly egalitarian proﬁle of student backgrounds. It resulted not from afﬁrmative
action, but from the high level and the standardized quality of teaching in publicschools across the nation. It also reﬂected the fact that merit-based exams denied
wealthy parents the chance to “buy” entrance with a donation to a favorite university.

TABLE 14.2 Equality of Access to Japanese Higher Education,
1961–74 (percentage of students from each of ﬁve
income levels, among all students entering
national universities)

National Universities

1961

1965

1970

1974

I (lowest income)
II
III

19.7
20.2
15.4

16.3
15.1
18.6

17.3
13.9
17.7

14.4
11.2
16.0

IV
V (highest income)

18.5
26.2

22.5
27.6

21.2
29.2

24.3
34.1

Note: Each group, from lowest (I) to highest (V) represents 20 percent of households based on
income level.
Source: Adapted from Thomas Rohlen, “Is Japanese Education Becoming Less Egalitarian?”
Journal of Japanese Studies (Winter, 1977), Vol. 3, No. 1, p. 41.

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An additional factor was perhaps the devastation of the war and early postwar inﬂation,
which had eroded the position of old elites and equalized the distribution of wealth.
The newly egalitarian schools became a sorting machine for the middle-classmasses. The result was the notorious experience called “examination hell.” To enter
top high schools and then the best colleges, the only measure that mattered was per­formance on the entrance examination. Students spent long hours and years cramming
for these tests. If they failed to win a place at a coveted elite school, they often took
a postgraduate year (or two) to study more and try again. These youths, ﬂoating
between high school and college, were dubbed rōnin, a premodern term for “master­
less samurai.” The examination-centered school curriculum offended many teachers
who wanted to emphasize other modes of learning. It was designed both to sort young
people and to discipline them. Vast experience at repetitive cramming for dull exams
prepared young boys, especially, for a demanding, competitive working routine as anadult.
Japanese workplaces also took on new standardized “postwar” characteristics. The
majority of workers no longer held family-based jobs; they worked for wages outside
the home. The proportion of family workers in the labor force dropped from twothirds of all in the late 1950s to under half by the end of 1960s. This change affected
women as well as men. Between 1960 and 1970, the proportion of women workers
who were employed outside the family sector rose from 42 to 53 percent.9
A second key postwar change in the workplace ran parallel to that in the schools.
Hierarchy was compressed, and a more egalitarian spirit spread. As almost everyone
went on to high school in the 1960s and 1970s, the high school diploma came todeﬁne a ﬂoor rather than a privileged middle point of entry. A better educated andbetter disciplined work force was one result. Another result was a much smaller gap
between white-and blue-collar work, especially among men. When prewar managers
with college degrees and technicians with high school diplomas had supervised pro­duction workers with a middle school or grade school education, the differences inexperience and expectations were great. By the 1970s, when virtually all employees
had gone to school through age eighteen and college education itself imparted rela­
tively little new knowledge or skills, the gap between the skills brought to the job byblue-collar high school recruits and white-collar college grads was much smaller.
In the new social order of the high growth era, the experience of family life wasalso standardized to a signiﬁcant extent. The proportion of nuclear families rosethrough the 1960s, reaching a plateau of just under two-thirds of all families by 1975.
At the same time, single-member households—typically young unmarried wage earn­
ers living in company dorms or apartments—increased from 3 percent in 1955 to 14
percent by 1975. Extended families fell from one-third of all to one-ﬁfth. The deﬁ­nition of “extended” is ambiguous. Most elderly parents who did not live with theirchildren resided within a short walk or drive to their children and grandchildren.10
One might call these “extended nuclear families.” But the rise of one-person house­holds and the decline in extended ones gave two-generation families greater promi­
nence than before as the normative state of family life.
Nuclear families comprised the heart of what commentators in the late 1950s
began to call Japan’s “new middle class.”11 The adjective “new” marks a contrast to257

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the older middle class of family farmers in the countryside and traders and small
manufacturers in the cities. The expanding new middle class took up residence in thegrowing suburbs of Tokyo, Yokohama, Nagoya, Osaka, and other cities. In the boom­
ing decades of the 1960s through the 1980s, huge apartment blocks called danchi
sprouted up in what had been rice or vegetable ﬁelds. Over one million units werebuilt by public housing authorities. Private developers also put up single-family homes
sprawling in all directions out of these cities for the more successful middle-classcitizens.
New architecture drew on innovations of the prewar era to promote a “modern”
living space. Bedrooms were separated from the dining/kitchen area. Tables with chairs
replaced ﬂoor-level seating. Children often had their own separate bedrooms. In the
typical nuclear families of the high-growth years, the husband commuted by train
from such a home to a demanding full-time job in an ofﬁce or a factory. The wife
often took on a part-time job, but she devoted herself primarily to the care of theirchildren, rarely more than two in number.
As people yearned for this new sort of home, they yearned for each other in new
ways as well. In upper-class and middle-class Japan of the early twentieth century,
marriages were typically arranged, although a minority and somewhat subversive idealof love as the basis of marriage had appeared. In the 1950s, the arranged marriage
was still quite common in the new middle class of white-collar salaried workers.

Government investment in public housing and private investment of hard-earned savings by
the parents of the baby boom generation combined to fuel a postwar housing boom. Apart­
ment complexes such as this one in an Osaka suburb, Hirakata City, in 1961, sprung up allover Japan.
Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

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Partners were introduced by parents, relatives, friends, or a professional marriage
arranger. They would meet several times for a brief “look-see” (the omiai) before
deciding whether to wed.12 But the custom of dating became popular among college
youths and young workers in these years, and the word for date (deeto) was imported
from English. Gradually but steadily, the ideal of the “love marriage” won the day.
Increasingly extravagant weddings to celebrate such marriages came to deﬁne thefounding moment of the standard family of postwar Japan.
At the same time, the worlds of work and family remained quite separate formany middle-class men and women. A man’s commitment to his company—especiallyfor white-collar employees—generally required him to join the after-hours life of
drinking and socializing with workmates or customers, often in the company of female
bar hostesses. The so-called water trades of the female companion (referring to themixed drinks poured by the hostesses) combined elements of the café culture of the
1920s and the elite world of the highly cultivated female entertainers known as geisha,generally stopping short of prostitution but not ruling out occasional liaisons withcustomers. The water trades ﬂourished in Japan from the 1960s onward, generating
billions of dollars in revenues for thousands of bar owners (often older women who
had worked as hostesses) and their employees.13

Dating and the pursuit of “love marriages” became increasingly popular from the late 1950s
onward. In this photo from the 1960s, couples neatly spaced along the Wadakura Bridge inTokyo demonstrate their affection for each other.
Courtesy of Tomiyama Haru.

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Economic and Social Transformations

DIFFERENCES ENDURING AND REALIGNED

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It is important to recognize these substantial increases in the realm of shared experi­ence in postwar society. It is equally important to understand that crucial social dif­ferences persisted nonetheless, while others emerged in new forms: between the oldand new middle class, between those entering college prep high schools and those in
the vocational track of “overﬂow” schools, between men and women, and between
the Japanese majority and the ethnically “other” minorities of Koreans and burakumin,
as well as Ainu aborigines to the north and Okinawans to the south.
One enduring division was that between the lives of the old and new middle classin towns and cities. Just as village life was transformed but not destroyed in the highgrowth era, the large population of self-employed urban families did not disappear.
The old middle class remained numerous while the new middle class grew. Local
retailers and traders strove to ﬁll their homes with the same consumer goods as thefamilies of the “salaryman.” Their children had similar basic education and reasonably
similar chances to enter well-regarded higher schools. The dense local networks ofshopkeepers and small manufacturers provided a social glue for urban neighborhoods
that made them safe and vibrant places to live and shop and a source of the vitalityof city life.14 But despite some convergence of their lifestyles toward a common
middle-class pattern, the old middle class faced less certain economic prospects thanemployees of large companies. Small businesses went bankrupt in signiﬁcant numbers:
Throughout the high-growth decades, between 3 and 5 percent of all small businesses
failed each year.15
In education, key axes of difference emerged in new form. As high school edu­
cation became nearly universal, the gap between those with basic and higher levels ofschooling diminished. But new divisions emerged among high schools and amongcolleges. Merit-based exams for high school and college, and the relatively even qual­
ity of elementary and middle-school public education, created far more even compe­
tition for higher education than ever before. But this equality of opportunity went handin hand with inequality of result, both individually and collectively. Certain publichigh schools in all the major cities developed well-deserved reputations as top-ﬂight“prep” schools. Those who passed the demanding entrance exams for these schools
were then groomed for three years to pass the entrance tests for elite universities.
Other high schools developed equally accurate reputations as mediocre “overﬂow”
schools for those who proved less motivated or successful in cramming for exams.
A related realignment of division marked Japan’s burgeoning manufacturing in­dustries. Thanks to changes in the education system, the power of labor unions, andnew management policies, equality in the treatment of blue- and white-collar male
employees of large companies increased substantially. But inequality persisted between
these fortunate persons—perhaps one-fourth to one-third of working people—and therest of the working population. Wages of men in smaller and medium-sized workplacesin the 1960s stood at 50 to 60 percent of the pay given to workers at large companies.16
Their job security was considerably less as well.
Perhaps the most important social differences across the postwar decades could
be found in the realm of gender relations. In the workplaces of the high-growth era,for example, the division between the labor of women and men changed surprisingly

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little. In manufacturing in the prewar era, the great majority of heavy industrial work­ers had been men, while roughly two-thirds of female workers had been textile op­
eratives. In the early 1950s, as many as 55 percent of women in manufacturing jobs
still worked in textile factories. At this point, the mass production factories of elec­
tronic equipment makers began to grow at extraordinary rates. They hired many
thousands of young women. From the mid-1950s into the 1960s, women at assemblylines producing transistor radios, and then TVs, became international symbols of theemerging Japanese economic miracle. The proportion of women employed in textiles
plummeted from over half in 1955 to just 18 percent of female manufacturing laborby 1965. But the characteristics of the electronic workers were precisely those of the
textile operatives of years past: teenage girls hired directly upon completing the com­pulsory middle schools, living in company housing, and enjoying the very constraining
beneﬁts of paternalistic management policies. And the labor-intensive substance ofwork on a television assembly line was not very different from that of a textile
operative.
In the expanding ofﬁces of corporate Japan, women were hired in the role of“ofﬁce ﬂowers” intended to brighten the workplace for their male coworkers on career
tracks. They were taught to keep a cheery demeanor as they performed low-levelclerical jobs with little prospects of advancement. They were typically required by

Women working on the assembly line of the Seiko Watch Company in 1958. Hundreds ofthousands of young women, just out of middle school, took such jobs in the booming hightech industries of electronics and precision machine manufacturing, as well as in establishedindustries such as textiles.
Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

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their employment contracts to quit their jobs at marriage. Some women challenged
this sort of job discrimination, both through collective bargaining and, most impor­tantly, through lawsuits. Beginning with a 1966 decision in a famous case brought
against Sumitomo Cement, the courts typically ruled to uphold the right of women
workers to keep their jobs after marriage. But many employers were committed tosustaining a gender division in the workplace. They kept a step ahead of the law byrevising their recruiting policies. They began to avoid women, such as graduates offour-year colleges, likely to exercise this new right to a job. Instead they hired grad­uates of two-year junior colleges, who experience had shown were more likely to quit
upon marriage even if not required to do so.17
Religious behavior also differentiated the lives of Japanese people in the postwar
era. Some of those left behind in the race for success and afﬂuence turned to a dizzying
array of new religions for spiritual and social support. Many of these religions had
been founded in the nineteenth or early twentieth century. Others were newly estab­lished in the immediate postwar years. Some were small and ephemeral. To secularobservers they appeared very eccentric. They might offer faith healing through thelaying on of hands or channeling of divine power through a charismatic leader’s body.
A few of these religions won millions of adherents. The largest was Sōka Gakkai(Value Creation Society). Beginning in the late 1930s as a tiny offshoot of the Nichiren
Buddhist sect, it took off in the 1950s and grew to claim seven million adherents by
the late 1960s. Other thriving new religions, each with millions of members in the
postwar era, included the Risshō Kōsei kai, also a Nichiren offshoot, and Tenrikyō.
In contrast to the established Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines, which maintained
the passive allegiance of the majority of people, these new religions cultivated a far
more active commitment, both in prayer and ﬁnancial support. They typically offeredsolace in this world as well as salvation in the next. Sōka Gakkai was notorious for
its aggressive proselytizing. Its ritual practice consisted of thirty minutes daily ofchanting before a Buddhist altar. This devotion, it was promised, would solve im­mediate problems, whether economic or emotional. New recruits were told that thereligion was akin to a credit card. Instead of “buy now, pay later,” one could “praynow, believe later.” That is, one could pray in a skeptical spirit and come to believe
when good things eventually came to pass. As a strong network of supportive believers
helped new converts to ﬁnd jobs or friendship, many prayers indeed were answered
and the religion thrived.
Ethnic and racial minorities marked another realm of continued division in post­
war society. Roughly two million Koreans had migrated to Japan or had been brought
by force by the end of the war. The majority returned to Korea, but some 540,000
remained in Japan when the American occupation ended. Their legal status hadchanged from subjects of the Japanese emperor to resident aliens. They maintained
strong communities and their own network of private schools, but they faced economic
hardship and discrimination. Few of them won signiﬁcant shares in the growing af­
ﬂuence of the society as a whole. They generally had little choice but to work in
difﬁcult, low-paying jobs such as day-labor on construction sites.
A second “ethnic” minority were the burakumin. Their outcaste status had been
nominally eliminated in the Meiji era, but discrimination persisted even a century
later. In the 1950s and 1960s, employers at prestigious workplaces would typically

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check the household register of job applicants to screen out buraku applicants. Thiswas possible because the burakumin were chieﬂy identiﬁed by their traditional villagesor neighborhoods (the term burakumin literally means “village person”), and the sys­
tem of household registration in place since the Meiji era provided an ofﬁcial recordof these social origins. The Buraku Liberation League, an extremely well-organized
and militant advocacy group, exerted much political pressure to prevent the use ofthis information as a means to discriminate. The government in response enacted legal
reforms in the late 1960s that restricted outsider access to a person’s household reg­ister. But several private agencies responded to a continued discriminatory ethos bycompiling unofﬁcial lists of buraku addresses. They sold these lists to private com­panies. The government condemned this practice but did not outlaw it. By the late1970s, as many as eight separate lists were in circulation.
In the face of this discrimination, the Buraku Liberation League supported a“separate but equal” sort of reform movement. They mobilized to win better collective
treatment for buraku neighborhoods through subsidies, construction projects, or im­
provements in schools. These programs of support were codiﬁed in 1969 in a Buraku
Special Measures Law. Over time, the standard of living in buraku neighborhoods rosesigniﬁcantly and approached that of mainstream society. But discrimination persisted,
and buraku residents found it extremely difﬁcult to enter mainstream corporate jobs
and careers.18

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MANAGING SOCIAL STABILITY AND CHANGE

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The Japanese state bureaucracy and the ruling political party, often working in tandemwith the business elite, were actively concerned with reducing social tensions andmanaging processes of social change. Numerous programs and campaigns to manage
society ran parallel to those to manage the economy. For example, in addition torebuilding the burakumin ghettos, government housing policy (as in the United States)
provided middle-class families with low-cost mortgages. The government also foundeda public corporation to build large numbers of high-rise “new towns.” By the early
1970s, the public housing corporation had constructed nearly two million units, in­cluding apartments and single-family homes. Middle-class citizens applied in huge
numbers and were selected via lotteries—sometimes with 100 : 1 odds—for these lowrent, subsidized dwellings.
One drive at the intersection of social and economic policy was the effort toencourage people to increase their rates of saving. Building on prewar and wartime
programs, the Ministry of Finance launched a major effort to encourage savings in
the 1950s. It built powerful alliances with women’s organizations and focused its
persuasive powers on housewives, who typically kept charge of household ﬁnances.
By the 1960s, Japanese families were saving an average of about 15 percent of house­
hold income. This was the highest rate in the world and was also considerably higher
than prewar levels of saving. Japanese banks were able to invest these funds in thebooming economy. The causes of higher rates of saving are complex and included theneed to save for old age as life expectancy increased, but the ubiquitous exhortations
to save were probably a signiﬁcant factor.19
Education was an important arena of social policy endeavor. Advisory committees

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of businessmen in the early 1960s joined education bureaucrats to call for examfocused public schooling that would impart basic skills to an expanded pool of newworkers. They wanted blue-and white-collar employees who could adapt to rapidlychanging production and ofﬁce technologies. They wanted schooling to allocate ahierarchy of credentials from high school to junior college to college degrees, so as
to slot young men and women into appropriate levels and roles in the workplace. They
generally got what they asked for. As their operations expanded, corporations recruited
long-term employees directly from school more systematically than ever before. Mag­azines began publishing detailed lists that ranked both schools and companies in termsof difﬁculty of entry and popularity. The media thus further standardized popular
images of mainstream and successful pathways through life.
Powerful institutions of the state, and the business world as well, acted withparticular concern to deﬁne and manage “proper” gender roles. The Ministry of Ed­
ucation and the leaders of corporate Japan designed the school curriculum to reinforce
a gendered vision of standard family and working life. In middle schools and highschools, gender-tracking placed young girls, but not boys, in courses in home eco­nomics and health. Here they learned the skills of good wives and mothers. In higher
education in the high-growth era, about 90 percent of students at two-year juniorcolleges were women. They typically majored in subjects considered suited to women,such as home economics, education, or literature. Three-fourths of students at fouryear colleges, in contrast, were men. The great majority majored in engineering andsocial sciences.
Some policies to uphold gender divisions in the workplace and at home took theform of state-imposed economic incentives. An expanded social security system wasput into place from the 1950s through the 1970s. It supported the gender-based di­vision of labor of a “standard” nuclear family because its beneﬁt structure assumed
that a husband was the primary wage earner. Also, a spouse’s income under about$10,000 per year was not taxed at all, but earnings above this level were taxed at themuch higher rate of the primary earner. This strongly discouraged married womenfrom working more than part time.
Some state and corporate programs more directly encouraged women to deﬁnetheir primary role as that of homemaker rather than worker. Beginning in the late
1940s, government ministries worked with women’s organizations on a number ofloosely connected initiatives that evolved into a campaign called the New Life Move­ment. The movement got its postwar start in farm villages. Its activities built on various
prewar and wartime campaigns to “improve daily life” aimed ﬁrst at urban women in
the 1920s and extending to villages by the 1930s. The prominent concern with kitchen
design and hygienic handling of garbage prompted critics to joke that the movement
consisted mainly of women swatting ﬂies. Lectures, pamphlets, and most notably
thousands of local study groups promoted new practices of hygiene (protecting foodfrom insects, promptly disposing of garbage), kitchen design (bringing more light into
kitchens), and household accounting (keeping careful records). In this way, bureaucrats
in the ministries of agriculture, welfare, and education worked with local women’sorganizations in the countryside to push for their version of “enlightened” and “mod­ern” household management. Beginning in 1955 the prime minister’s ofﬁce funded an
association to coordinate the various New Life activities. Major corporations jumped

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on this New Life bandwagon as well. In the 1950s and 1960s over ﬁfty of Japan’s
leading companies, with more than one million employees, organized New Life groups
for the wives of their workers. The idea was, as one steel company’s personnel man­ager put it:
Life in the home is the barometer for the next day’s life [at work]. In principle thehousewife is in charge of home life, and we can say that the husband both takes his
rest and builds his energy under her initiative. Thus, we wished to elevate the house­
wives who played this role and thereby establish the foundation for a bright, cheerful
home, a bright society, and beyond that, a bright, cheerful workplace.20

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Birth control was a particular concern of both corporate and government New
Life programs. Bureaucrats and business leaders from the early postwar days hadfeared that the surging population would literally eat up the economic gains of the
postwar recovery. As one response, abortion had been legalized in 1948. At the peakin the late 1950s over one million abortions were performed each year. Many people
criticized this use of abortion as a ﬁrst-resort form of birth control. Some objected on
moral grounds. Others were concerned at the unnecessary health risk to women. One
practical response was to promote condom use and to distribute them not to thehusbands, but to the wives in New Life groups. Although the New Life movement
was organized from above, it empowered its participants in this and other ways. It
gave them new forms of practical knowledge and a new voice in their families. Many
women who later joined citizens’ movements concerned with causes ranging from theenvironment to nuclear nonproliferation had their ﬁrst taste of civic activity in these
New Life groups.

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In the 1920s and 1930s social tensions—between landlords and tenants, zaibatsu own­
ers and impoverished workers, city and country—were part of a volatile mix thatpushed Japan toward a disastrous war. In the high-growth era after World War II,social divisions old and new proved somewhat less explosive. Ongoing and reﬁgured
differences were managed by government policies. They were also dampened by pow­
erful cultural images of Japan as a land of a homogeneous people, where virtually
everyone could share to some degree in the growing bounty and security of a modern,middle-class life.
The mass media played a key role in postwar social history by amplifying thissense of shared experience among Japanese people. This role was not new. The news­
paper and book publishing industry from the late nineteenth century, and then news­
reels, movies, and radio from the 1920s, had provided people with a powerful senseof belonging to a common national community. Government-controlled media in the
1930s and wartime—and then under American occupation—had deﬁned national mis­sions of mobilizing for war and then of embracing democracy. Although the forms of
media became more varied in the high-growth era, the images of “the Japanese people”
spread by the media were remarkably standardized.
The publishing industry ﬂourished. Beginning with just a handful of magazines
at the end of the war, the genre of the news and entertainment weekly grew explosively

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in the postwar decades. New publications targeted particular audience segments suchas young women, young men, housewives, and adult men. By 1960, the circulation
for these magazines averaged 11.5 million copies per week. In addition, Japan’s news­
papers published a total of 24 million issues per day. That year, book publishers cameout with about twenty-four thousand new titles, and they sold 125 million books. By
these measures, the reading public in Japan was among the most word-hungry in theworld. On a per capita basis the only comparable or slightly larger publishing indus­
tries were found in Britain, Germany, the Soviet Union, and the United States.
At the same time, television broadcasting took off together with the surge of
television ownership. The publically regulated NHK (Nippon Hōsō Kyōkai, or Japan
Broadcast Association) network began broadcasting in early 1953. The ﬁrst commer­
cial competitors took to the air later that same year. By the 1960s, television was aconstant presence in Japanese homes. Opinion polls concluded that the average viewer
watched 2.5 hours of television each day.
In this media-saturated environment, standardized images of normal middle-classlife spread widely. Coverage of exceptional events helped deﬁne the dreams of ordi­
nary people. This was the case with the 1959 marriage of the Crown Prince Akihito(Emperor Hirohito’s son). He broke tradition by choosing his own mate, a womanfrom outside the old aristocracy named Shōda Michiko. She was the daughter of a
wealthy industrialist but nonetheless a commoner. A desire to watch the event re­portedly sparked a huge boom in television sales, and the mass media provided themeans to share this experience.21 As described by announcers, their union symbolizeda modern postwar ideal of marrying for love and forming a new nuclear family, inclose contact with a larger family circle.
The ordinary run of media productions similarly deﬁned the lives of middle-class,educated urban Japanese families as the typical experience of all Japanese people. Oneof the most important ﬁctional families to play this role was that of “Sazae-san,”created immediately after the war by a pioneering female cartoonist, Hasegawa Ma­
chiko. In comic strip form through the 1950s and 1960s, and as a long-running tele­vision show from 1969 through the 1990s, “Sazae-san” captured and shaped popularimagination. It offered an affectionately humorous look at three generations of a
middle-class family. The fathers commuted to generic ofﬁce jobs and stopped off fora few drinks before the homeward evening commute. The mothers cooked and ran
the household, kept up with the neighbors, and nagged at boisterous children to keep
at their studies.
Both ordinary programs and coverage of big events made it clear that Japan’s
postwar modern life was part of a global modern culture common to the advanced
capitalist world. Several spectacles of the 1960s and 1970s were promoted as signs
that Japan had reentered international society as a full member in good standing.
Authorities used these occasions to boost social order and patriotism. They included
a world exposition at Osaka in 1970 and the Winter Olympics in Sapporo in 1972.
But the ﬁrst and most signiﬁcant was the Eighteenth Summer Olympiad, held in Tokyoin 1964.
In some ways the event did not meet expectations. Controversy marked plans toﬁnance the Olympics, and the numbers of foreign tourists fell far short of predictions.
In another example of its impulse to manage society, the government used the event

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The Japanese women’s volleyball team celebrates its victory in clinching a gold medal in the1964 Tokyo Olympics. The players secured a place for themselves as national heroes. The
Olympics sparked a global recognition of Japan’s extraordinary recovery from the ruins of
war as well as domestic pride in achievements such as the high-speed bullet train, which
opened just before the games began.

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as an occasion for a variety of social reform campaigns. It called on citizens to improve
public hygiene and sanitation and exhorted shopkeepers to curtail shady retail sales
tactics. The Ministry of Education seized the moment to expand coverage of “patri­otism” and increase the compulsory character of “moral education” or “civics” courses
in the schools.
But it was the mass media, television above all, that made the Olympics a highimpact cultural event. The games won unprecedented ratings: an 84 percent share forthe opening ceremony and an 85 percent share for the women’s volleyball ﬁnals. The
Japanese team won the gold medal and became national heroes. The presence ofseventy-ﬁve hundred athletes from ninety-four countries, Kenzō Tange’s monumentalarchitecture of the stadium and pool, the opening of the bullet train to Osaka and aparallel network of expressways, and the success of Japanese athletes, who won an
unprecedented sixteen gold medals (twenty-nine overall), sparked a media-induced
surge of national pride in peaceful collective achievements in economy, technology,
sports, and culture.
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people” shared a common sociocultural world. Industry revenues rose ninefold overthe 1950s. By the end of the decade, advertising outlays accounted for roughly 1.5
percent of the Japanese GNP. Consumers were exhorted in print, on radio, and on TV
to partake of the “bright new life” of the modern era by purchasing products ﬂooding
from Japanese factories, electrical appliances above all. By the 1970s, the consumer­
istic commercial culture that had emerged in the early twentieth century—at ﬁrst
mainly limited to middle-class city-dwellers—embraced the vast majority of people.
Japanese society was no longer a place where the majority worked to satisfy basic
needs for food, clothing, and shelter. The proportion of household budgets devoted tofood fell from about half in the early 1950s to just under one-fourth by the late 1970s.22
As people were “liberated” to pursue their wants and desires under the spell ofmass advertising, a succession of consumer durables moved from undreamt luxury topossible dreams. In the mid-1950s, pundits played on the three sacred imperial regalia(jewels, mirror, sword) and spoke of the “three sacred regalia” of modern life: tele­vision (black and white), washing machine, refrigerator. By the mid-1960s, upwardof 90 percent of the population possessed these items. Observers then began to talkof the “three new regalia,” also referred to as the “three Cs”: car, cooler (air condi­
tioner), and color TV.
As more and more people were able to afford the “typical” modern life symbol­
ized by these possessions, or at least could reasonably hope to obtain this life forthemselves or their children, a large majority of people in Japan came to identify
themselves as members of mainstream or middle-class society. This change in social
consciousness is neatly reﬂected in social surveys beginning in the 1950s. These reveal
the sharp climb in the proportion of people who felt they belonged to either the upper,
middle, or lower level of “the middle class.” By the mid-1970s this proportion topped
75 percent in one authoritative social survey (see Figure 14.2). This self-identiﬁed
middle-class actually exceeded 90 percent in other polls, including some by the prime
minister’s ofﬁce. Perhaps most notable was a signiﬁcant decline over these years inthe self-identiﬁed “lower-middle class,” matched by a sharp rise, from about 35 to 60
percent, in those who placed themselves squarely in the middle of the middle class.
Observers read these and similar surveys and marveled at the advent of a nearly
universal middle-class consciousness in what recently had been a society marked bysharp divisions of social status, wealth, and power.23
Some writers and intellectuals celebrated these postwar social changes. They
wrote of the advent of a bright new life of possibility for individuals, liberated topursue and fulﬁll personal desire. Yoshimoto Takaaki, an unorthodox philosopher on
the left wing of the political spectrum, wrote in 1960 of “a private sense of interest[which] forms the basis of postwar ‘democracy’ (bourgeois democracy). If we do notrecognize something positive at the root of this development, we can recognize no
progressive developments whatsoever in Japanese society since World War II. Such a
privatized consciousness neither idolizes the organization nor exalts state authority.”
Writing at the time of the massive protests against the security treaty linking Japanand the United States, Yoshimoto was objecting to a view put forward by liberal
thinkers such as Maruyama Masao that the pursuit of material desires generated a“privatized” spirit of “indifference” that proved “very convenient for the governing
elites who wish to ‘contain’ ” political activism.24

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Figure 14.2

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isRise of Middle-Class Consciousness. Respondents’ deﬁnition of their social
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Source: 1975 nen SSM zenkoku chōsa hōkoku iinkai, ed., Shakai kaisō to shakai idō 1975 nen SSM zenkoku chōsahōkoku (Tokyo: 1978), p. 310.

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Other cultural critics, on both the left and right of the political spectrum, echoed
Maruyama in criticizing the status quo and expressing fear for the future. One streamof thought on the Japanese left drew on European social theorists of the Frankfurt
school. It sharply attacked the Japanese version of an “administered society” andlamented the ways in which the mass media, together with corporate employers andstate institutions such as the schools, prescribed the normal course of a proper citizen’s
life, crushing individual impulses and diversity. They criticized the exaltation of GNP
growth at the expense of building social solidarity, protecting the environment, or
cultivating local culture and the self. The expression “escape from salary” (datsu-sara)
became popular from around 1970. It referred to a dissenting ideal of those seeking
to escape the oppressive grind of the organization-oriented salaryman. Yoshimoto him­
self seems to have been torn between a desire to respect the private strivings ofordinary people and a belief that they must feel a “continually increasing burden of
a sensibility gripped with an amorphous sense of boredom, enjoying a bloated material
life and a relatively improved standard of living, but an absolute impoverishment.”25
On the right, even as critics celebrated the growing power of the economy, they
lamented the way afﬂuence threatened to undermine what they described as traditional
Japanese values of endurance and sacriﬁce to a larger collective. Such sentiments could
be ironic or even laughable, as when automotive industry executives reportedly com­plained that their spoiled children wanted their own cars. Many observers on the left
and right, in fact, could share a lament over the way materialism and consumerism

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overwhelmed any commitment to political values, whether those of a revived nation­
alism or a humanized capitalism.
One early episode that served to focus debate on the cultural changes of the
postwar years was the royal wedding of 1959. It illustrates the complexity of cross­currents of criticism and celebration of postwar social change. Some on the left crit­icized the “Michiko boom” as an ominous revival of reverence for the throne. Butothers welcomed it as a healthy sign that the “emperor system of the masses” hadbeen democratized. They stressed that the imperial household was now viewed withplayful affection rather than awe or fear.26
A decade later, the dramatic suicide of the writer Mishima Yukio once more drewattention to a radical critique of Japan’s modernizing, materialistic postwar culture.
His ﬁction written from the 1940s through 1970 explored diverse themes of love,obsession, masculinity, and homosexual longing. He also sought to deﬁne and defend“traditional” Japanese aesthetic values, and he came to link these to a militaristic
veneration of the emperor and nation. In the late 1960s Mishima formed a small rightwing militia devoted to body-building and training in martial arts. Then, in November
1970 he ended his life in spectacular fashion by invading a Tokyo headquarter of the
Self-Defense Forces and making a speech calling on the troops to launch an uprising
to restore the prewar political order. The audience responded with indifference, andMishima sliced open his belly in the ritualized suicide know as harakiri or seppuku.
The Japanese public was shocked but not sympathetic to this theatrical call for a returnto old values.
Although few wished to follow Mishima’s reactionary cultural politics, two epi­
sodes in the 1970s served as a focal point for ongoing unease and debate over thechanges of postwar decades. Remarkably enough, more than twenty-ﬁve years after
the surrender, two “last soldiers” of the imperial army were discovered ﬁghting on in
sad isolation, convinced the war was still going. Yokoi Shōichi returned from Guamin 1972. Onoda Hiroo came home from the Philippines in 1974. Each man had been
cut off from his unit when the war ended and remained hidden in remote hills or
jungles ever since, occasionally raiding local villages or somehow living off the land.
These media dramas sparked a mini-boom of nostalgic commentary on the contrast
between the determination and selﬂess commitment of these men and the individu­
alism and materialistic consumerism of the youth of postwar Japan. Such debates were
often framed as arguments over the quality of a generalized Japanese character, andits postwar transformation and decline. But they in fact were addressing global issuesof modernity more than issues peculiar to Japan. How should the gains of afﬂuence
be enjoyed and shared? What sort of social values and commitments should linkpeople together in an era of growing abundance yet ongoing division?

15
Political Struggles and Settlements of theHigh-Growth Era

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The histories of politics and economy in postwar Japan offer a study in contrasts.
Across three decades, the economy grew so quickly and consistently that even the
United States began to study “the Japanese model” for lessons of success. The politicalworld, in contrast, witnessed numerous sharp struggles. People argued over how to
distribute the fruits of economic gain. They fought over the divisive question of Japan’sinternational alignment. From the 1960s into the 1970s, the intensity of political con­
frontation seen in the previous decade diminished somewhat. But some new issues
came to the fore, centered on the costs and dilemmas of afﬂuence. Domestically, thenation confronted the problem of protecting people from pollution, as extraordinary
growth incurred extraordinary environmental costs. Internationally, Japan’s place in
the Cold War struggle between the capitalist and communist worlds became less con­troversial, while tension over trade imbalances and economic friction within the cap­
italist world grew more intense. The story of the postwar economy is thus inseparablefrom the turbulent postwar history of political struggle and settlement.

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POLITICAL STRUGGLESAs the occupation ended, the national political map remained divided into two major
camps, referred to at the time as “conservative” and “progressive.” They opposed eachother bitterly, and their all-out clashes were the most important political events of the
1950s. But these groups were also divided sharply within themselves. One cannot
understand the outcome of these political struggles and later settlements without rec­ognizing the major schisms within.
At the head of the conservative forces, with close links to the bureaucratic andbusiness elites, stood the Liberal Party. Its leader, Yoshida Shigeru, was prime ministerwhen the treaty was signed. In the ﬁrst post-occupation general election, of October
1952, the Liberals won 48 percent of the vote and 52 percent of the Diet seats. But
the party was divided internally over both personality and policy. Hatoyama Ichirō led
the opposition within the party. Like many of his opponents on the left, he objected
especially to Yoshida’s willingness to accept “subordinate independence” under Amer­ican hegemony.
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The Democratic Party represented a more socially minded and state-centered con­servatism rooted in the prewar Minseitō. It had brieﬂy headed a coalition cabinet withthe socialists in 1948. In the early 1950s, the party reorganized under the name of theReform Party (Kaishintō). It claimed slightly under one-ﬁfth of the votes and seats innational elections. Unlike the Liberals, Reform Party leaders such as Miki Takeo werewilling to cooperate with elements in the Socialist Party. Then, in 1954, Hatoyama
bolted from the Liberal Party together with a faction of thirty-seven Diet members.
They joined the Reform Party forces to re-create the Democratic Party of Japan. Withbacking from the socialists, they engineered a no-conﬁdence vote to oust Prime Min­
ister Yoshida and form a cabinet with Hatoyama as prime minister.
The progressive forces were no less divided. From 1951 to 1955, the Japan So­
cialist Party split formally into a “left faction” and a “right faction.” The “left faction”
sought a revolutionary transformation of capitalism at home. It opposed both thepartial peace treaty and the United States–Japan security treaty. The right faction
wished simply to reform capitalism. It accepted the partial peace treaty while opposing
the presence of troops under the security treaty. Each faction put up its own list of
candidates, and they were very closely matched. In elections in 1952 and 1953, theyevenly split approximately one-fourth of the votes. In the 1955 election the two so­
cialist parties remained at odds but improved their aggregate support. They together
won 29 percent of the votes and just over one-third of the seats.1
The fortunes of the Japan Communist Party (JCP) declined disastrously in the
1950s. In 1949, the party made unprecedented gains. It won 10 percent of the voteand sent thirty-ﬁve representatives to the Diet. But early in 1950, the Soviet Union
sharply criticized the JCP’s parliamentary strategy. Stalin insisted that his Japaneseallies pursue more militant, even violent, actions. SCAP seized this occasion to en­gineer the Red Purge, which forced the party leaders underground. Then, after the
Korean War broke out, the party indeed staged some acts of terrorism or sabotage.
The strategy backﬁred. The party lost all popular conﬁdence. Through the end of thedecade it never won more than 3 percent of the votes or two seats in the Diet. Evenso, the party’s strong support among many intellectuals gave it a relatively greater
importance than these numbers suggest.
The political map was simpliﬁed considerably in 1955. The two factions of theSocialist Party reunited. More or less simultaneously, and in response, the Liberal and
Democratic parties joined forces to found the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). Con­
cerned at the new unity and rising support for the socialists, the business elite pro­
moted this merger by using its power as the chief ﬁnancier of conservative candidates.
The LDP would remain in power for the next thirty-eight years. It consolidated en­
during alliances not only with business leaders but also with leading state bureaucrats.
The bureaucrats offered policy expertise and manpower to the party. They wrote mostof the laws that the LDP passed. Leading midcareer bureaucrats left their posts to run
for political ofﬁce under the LDP banner. They played key roles in the party. Begin­ning in the late 1950s, several served as prime minister. With their close ties, theseelite groups of politicians, businessmen, and bureaucrats were called Japan’s “irontriangle.” The decades of LDP ascendance were dubbed the era of one-party rule. (SeeAppendix B for complete election results).
Despite the greater formal unity of both conservatives and progressives after 1955,

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signiﬁcant differences continued within each camp as well as between the two sides.
All conservatives wanted economic stability and growth, but bureaucrats, LDP poli­
ticians, and their economic advisors differed fundamentally on how to achieve this.
Through the 1950s, the most important debate concerned how intimately Japan shouldlink its economic fortunes to an integrated global economy. Prominent economists
such as Arisawa Hiromi and Tsuru Shigeto, together with bureaucrats in the Economic
Planning Agency, stressed the need to develop natural resources within Japan such ascoal and hydroelectric power. They looked to state-supported projects such as America’s Tennessee Valley Authority as models. Fearing that foreign conﬂicts might en­
danger oil supplies, they supported policies to minimize reliance on imports and ex­
ports. In retrospect this view appears short-sighted, but the specter of both recent wars
and the prospect of future ones generated strong support for a vision of a relatively
isolated and independent Japanese economy. The fear of relying on foreign supplies,
especially of energy and food, continued to have a powerful psychological and political
impact for decades.
On the other side, and ultimately triumphant, stood advocates of trade and inter­dependence. Their champion was probably the most important policymaking econo­
mist of the postwar era, Nakayama Ichirō. He served on numerous state advisoryboards in the labor and economic ﬁelds from the 1940s through the 1960s. Nakayama
argued that despite the risks, Japan had only one choice: embracing the global econ­omy. Its resource base was too small for autonomy. He likened Japan’s condition in
the 1950s to that of Britain a century before. He saw that Japan’s route to economic
growth lay in importing raw materials and exporting manufactured goods.2
Political strategy was no less controversial within the conservative camp. Hato­yama and his allies wanted to chart an independent course from the Americans. They
hoped to normalize relations with the Soviet Union, and they succeeded in this effort
in 1956. They also tried to build economic links to China, with much less success.
Although Yoshida’s followers might have chafed at American high-handedness, they
were more willing to follow the American lead in “containing” the communist bloc.
Domestically, the hot-button issue was the constitution. The majority of LDP
politicians was intent on revising what it scorned as the coercively imposed “Mac­
Arthur constitution.” Prime Minister Hatoyama (1954–56) was among the most vo­
ciferous revisionists. He wanted above all to raise the status of the emperor to that ofunambiguous “head of state” and abolish article 9, which prohibited use of militaryforce. With a wary eye on the radical left, his supporters also hoped to curtail civil
liberties with a constitutional provision for emergency executive powers in a time ofcrisis.
In 1956, at Hatoyama’s urging, the Diet created an advisory commission on theconstitution, comprised of thirty Diet representatives and twenty additional experts.
The socialists, to no one’s surprise, boycotted the committee. They adamantly de­fended the current charter. A majority on the commission supported some measure ofrevision, but its lukewarm report for the most part simply presented the cases for andagainst change. The LDP needed a two-thirds majority to ratify any revision, and evenat its peak strength in 1960 (63 percent of seats), it fell short. But of equal importance,a signiﬁcant minority within the conservative camp had come to support the postwar
constitution. In their view, the emperor’s status as a symbolic monarch was appropri­

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ate; it put him above political battles but still made him a symbol of national identityand order. They tended to agree that the prohibition on the military was an idealistic
excess. But they concluded that the political cost of revision would be even more
excessive. Gradually in the 1960s, the drive to revise the constitution lost momentum,
although it long remained a back-burner issue capable of sparking heated debate.
The Socialist Party’s outright boycott of the constitutional commission is one key
instance of the ﬁerce struggles between the political left and right throughout the
1950s. Outside the Diet, several overlapping political constituencies on the politicalleft led the charge to defend and deepen the postwar reforms at home while repudiating
the United States–Japan alliance.
The largest was the labor movement. In 1949 at the postwar peak, 6.7 million
men and women, 56 percent of the employed work force, were union members. The
unions were divided on key issues. A signiﬁcant minority heeded managerial pleas tomoderate their wage demands and accept ﬂexible job assignments and new technol­ogies. They agreed that such cooperation was the only way to improve productivity
and proﬁts, and thus defend jobs and wages over the long run. These unionists werealso reluctant to see their groups actively join political struggles against the security
treaty. In several showcase disputes in the 1950s, such workers formed dissenting
second unions at particular companies. These linked up with management to under­
mine strike actions over wages or job security. In the wake of failed strikes, thesebreakaway unions typically won the day. They gradually consolidated a new cooper­
ative union majority.
But this contest was far from decided at the end of the decade. The majority ofunions took more militant and politically engaged positions. They were federated
under the umbrella of the General Council of Trade Unions of Japan. Abbreviated inJapanese as Sōhyō, this group formed in 1950 through a merger of various anti­
communist unions. American occupation ofﬁcials had supported Sōhyō at its founding,and the union did keep some distance from the JCP. But contrary to American ex­
pectations, Sōhyō quickly emerged as a vociferous foe of the United States–Japan
Security Treaty, an ally of the leftist Socialist Party, and a supporter of militant de­mands and tactics in the workplace.
In steel mills, shipyards, public and private railways, chemical processors, auto
plants, and coal mines Sōhyō pursued a program called “workplace struggle” through­out the decade. Union activists encouraged members to seek a voice at the production
site over matters such as job safety and allocation of job assignments or overtime. In
many leading enterprises they built vigorous unions through such grassroots tactics.
They were pointing toward a political order in which unions would share in the controlof the workplace.
These unions simultaneously raised demands for large wage increases. Strikes
were frequent and hotly contested. In 1955 Sōhyō began to organize loosely coordi­
nated nationwide wage campaigns of unions in diverse companies and industries.
Although managers successfully refused to engage in formal industrywide bargaining,these annual Spring Offensives took root. By the end of the decade they were able toset effective targets for company-speciﬁc wage bargaining.
The peace movement was a second core component of the “progressive” drive of
the 1950s. In addition to unions and the Socialist and Communist parties, a huge

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variety of citizens’, women’s, and student organizations carried the banner of the
postwar peace movement. Two galvanizing issues were the United States–Japan treaty
and the American military bases that were authorized in the treaty agreement. In 1960,
the year of the most intense anti-treaty protests, the American presence amounted toforty-six thousand troops stationed on several hundred military installations on Japan’s
four main islands, and another thirty-seven thousand soldiers on Okinawa.
Local residents detested the noise of these bases and the chronic instances ofviolence or rape perpetrated by the soldiers. In addition to tens of thousands of trafﬁc
accidents, over one hundred thousand crimes involving off-duty personnel and Japa­
nese citizens took place from 1952 through the 1970s. The majority were incidents
of assault, including rape and murder. Some ﬁve hundred Japanese were killed in
accidents or assaults over these years. Critics were particularly upset because suchcrimes fell under the jurisdiction of American military justice. The bases were thus
a symbol of extraterritoriality that evoked memories stretching back to the unequal
treaties of the nineteenth century. The bases were surrounded by bars and massage
parlors, and protesters invoked powerful images of the violation of Japanese women
by foreigners. They also saw the American bases as military targets that could makeJapan once again an atomic victim if a war erupted between the Soviet Union and theUnited States.
A second cause addressed by the peace movement was nuclear disarmament. The
devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and the ongoing suffering of tens of thousandsof atomic bomb survivors, called hibakusha, gave a particular force to Japan’s anti­
nuclear movement. In 1954 a Japanese ﬁshing boat, the Lucky Dragon, was showeredwith radioactive fallout from an American thermonuclear test on Bikini Island in thecentral Paciﬁc. This catalyzed a surge of organizing against nuclear arms and bomb
testing. The most prominent anti-nuclear organization to emerge in the 1950s was theJapan Council Against Atomic and Hydrogen Bombs (Gensuikyō). It came to lead alarge annual anti-bomb conference, convened on the anniversary of the Hiroshima andNagasaki bombings. Divisions among the left-wing political parties led to splits andconﬂicts in the ranks of the peace movement. But well beyond the formal membershipof various contending organizations, anti-war, anti-base, and anti-nuclear sentimentremained powerful among masses of Japanese people. In the wake of the Lucky
Dragon incident, more than thirty million people signed petitions opposing nuclear
bomb tests.
Women and students formed a wide array of their own political organizations.
These took up issues at the core of the political agenda of the left, including the
movement against bases and nuclear weapons. Both women and students had been
active in politics since Meiji times. Some important women’s groups had been foundedas early as the turn of the century, such as the Christian Women’s Reform Society.
Important new groups included the Housewives Association (Shufuren), founded in
1948, and the Mothers Conference, an umbrella organization founded in 1955. Its
afﬁliated groups covered a vast range of concerns, from labor rights, paciﬁsm, andeducation to drug use, sanitation, and consumer safety.3
Like feminists the world over, the women in these groups differed on the key
issue of whether to frame their demands in terms of universal human rights or theparticular concerns and traits of women. Should they demand wage equality and thePolitical Struggles and Settlements of the High-Growth Era

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right of women to perform any job, or should they stress special protection for women
workers, which might in fact exclude them from certain arduous jobs? Japanese fem­
inists in some cases anchored calls for women’s rights in concepts of universal humanrights. But even such activists tended to combine their appeals with “maternalist”
positions based on women’s unique role as mothers. Anti-war groups, in particular,tended to speak of the special desire of mothers “to safeguard the happiness of ourchildren” when they issued statements opposing nuclear testing or the security treaty.4
Such appeals drew on the prewar state’s rhetoric of “good wife, wise mother.” They
forcefully turned the phrase on its head to promote new roles and rights for women.
Women were also active in labor unions. They enjoyed some notable successes
in the 1950s, at a time when militant actions of male unionists often failed to achieve¯
Silk Reeling Company or­
their goals. In 1954, ﬁfteen hundred women at the Omi
ganized a strike demanding recognition of their union, an end to restrictive dormitory
rules and company inspection of letters and personal belongings, and the right to work
after marriage. Their action focused on what many had come to see as the basic humanrights of Japanese people, women as well as men, under postwar democracy. The silk
workers won wide attention and support, and they ultimately prevailed. In 1959 and1960, a comparable success came to unionized nurses and hospital workers in Tokyoand elsewhere. In addition to better wages, they demanded and won similar basic
freedoms, especially the right to work after marriage. As a result, the proportion of
married nurses rose from a mere 2 percent in 1958 to 69 percent by the 1980s. Thisaction transformed nursing from a short-term job for young women who “retired” atmarriage to an adult career.
The student movement was another key element in the progressive drive. The
core organization was the All-Japan Federation of Student Self-Governing Associa­
tions, abbreviated Zengakuren and founded in 1948. Much like a union with a closed
shop that automatically enrolled all employees, these “self-governing associations”
were found on virtually all college campuses, and they enrolled all students as mem­bers. Student members of the Japan Communist Party dominated the Zengakuren atﬁrst. It suffered a blow in the early 1950s when the JCP came under ﬁre and lost
popular support. But the Lucky Dragon incident revitalized the student as well as theanti-war movement. By the end of the 1950s, students were a major force in politicalcauses and demonstrations ranging well beyond the campus.
Toward the end of the 1950s, these various “progressive” forces were conﬁdent
and energetic. They appeared to be on the rise. Despite some setbacks, many unions
remained quite militant. Student and women’s groups had enthusiastic followings. The
peace movement had a broad base of millions of sympathizers. The Socialist Party
had reunited. Small groups of citizens in towns and villages as well as cities wereorganizing all sorts of “circles.” These engaged in cultural pursuits such as music
appreciation or poetry writing but often also organized into larger networks with ties
to unions or political parties.
Out of this energy came a surge of popular protest in the late 1950s that erupted
in a major crisis in 1960. The ﬁrst act in the drama was protest in 1958 at the proposed
new Police Duties Law. The LDP intended this law to bolster the “emergency powers”
of the police to contain demonstrations and monitor the left. The bill ironically pro­voked what it sought to curb. Unions and political parties led a vigorous round of

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demonstrations. Public support and a united opposition in the Diet led the LDP toback down. The party never brought the bill to a vote.
Then, in 1960, two massive streams of protest converged to make this the mosttumultuous year in postwar history. The conﬂict began with the United States–Japan
Security Treaty, or Anpo. To extend the treaty past its original term of eight years, it
was necessary for the United States Congress and the Japanese Diet to ratify a renewed
treaty by June 1960. After several years of negotiation, the two governments agreed
on a revised security treaty early in 1960. The fundamental structure remained inplace. American bases would protect Japan, and the Japanese would accept the bases,
help pay for them, and help protect them in an emergency. Some minor changes sought
to head off key objections. The Americans promised to offer advance notice of plansto bring nuclear weapons onto Japanese soil. But the treaty also made future renewal
automatic, unless one or the other side asked for a change or an end to the treaty.
As the June 1960 deadline approached, a powerful groundswell emerged to op­
pose the renewed treaty. Socialists, student groups, women’s groups, and even somein the LDP objected to the prospect of a nearly permanent “subordinate independence”
under American hegemony. They objected as well to the ongoing risk that Japan would
be drawn into a larger war. Beginning in April, dozens of demonstrations brought
protesters into the streets of Tokyo. Amid growing public uproar, late at night on May
19 Kishi’s government literally shoved the law through the Diet. Like a human ramrod,
the speaker of the lower house was carried to the podium sideways by Diet police
through a crowd of opposition party politicians. He called the Diet into session andpassed the law with a snap vote.
In reaction to this maneuver, the demonstrations grew dramatically in size andintensity. For several weeks, huge protests took place daily in the vicinity of the Diet.
The largest drew well over one hundred thousand people by conservative estimates,and perhaps over two hundred thousand. President Eisenhower had accepted an in­vitation to attend a grand signing in Tokyo on June 19. This was to be the ﬁrst visit
to Japan by a sitting American president. On June 10, Eisenhower’s press secretary,
James Hagerty, arrived in Japan to work out the details of this trip. An angry crowd
surrounded his car and threatened to overturn it as he left the airport and headed for
the American embassy. Hagerty was rescued by an American military helicopter. In
another demonstration on June 15, a young woman was killed. Protestors blamed her
death on police brutality. The police claimed she was crushed to death in a stampedeof retreating demonstrators. Fearful that security could not be guaranteed, Eisenhower
called off his visit at the last minute. Kishi’s credibility stood in tatters, and he re­signed. But he had achieved his goal. The treaty had been passed, securing the UnitedStates–Japan military alliance for the long term.
Once the new treaty took effect on June 19, the demonstrations gradually peteredout. But the opposition’s political energy quickly shifted to a battle over jobs underway
in the Mitsui Corporation’s Miike Coal Mine far to the south, in Kyushu.
Japan’s mining industry had begun a slow painful decline several years before.
As the economy surged ahead, so did demand for energy. By the end of the 1950s,
oil had proved itself decisively cheaper than coal, and the foreign supplies seemed
reasonably reliable. Mining companies, Mitsui included, sought to survive by raisingproductivity with new equipment and cutting back on jobs. The Miike union, in the

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Political Struggles and Settlements of the High-Growth Era

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Police ofﬁcers help the Liberal Democratic Party literally ram through the renewal of theUnited States–Japan Security Treaty, as they carry the speaker of the House of Representa­
tives to the podium to force a vote, over the resistance of the Japan Socialist Party, on May
19, 1960. The battle over treaty revision was the most intense political struggle of the post­
war era.

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Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

Arface of this daunting environment, stood at the forefront of the shopﬂoor struggles
waged by the militant unions in the Sōhyō federation. Through several disputes in the
1950s, the miners had built a powerful union upon the solidarity of their isolated,
relatively homogeneous community. The union’s “workplace committees” had cometo control job and overtime allocations as well as safety standards. Their grassroots
activism stood as a model to other unions and a major threat to industrialists nation­
wide. This gave the Miike strike of 1960 a broader signiﬁcance. Transposing thewartime political vocabulary, observers dubbed it a “total war between labor andcapital.”
A company plan to dismiss two thousand of roughly thirteen thousand union
members precipitated the dispute. Mitsui was determined not only to “rationalize” themines by introducing new equipment and reducing the work force. It was intent upon
dismissing activists and breaking the union, so as to regain workplace authority. In
October 1959, the union called the ﬁrst of several time-limited strikes in opposition
to the rationalization plan. In December the company announced the dismissals, which
indeed targeted union leaders in particular, and in January 1960, the company imposed
a lockout. The union replied by declaring a strike. Some four thousand miners, with

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company assistance, immediately launched a second union with a pro-company plat­form and tried to return to work.
But a strong majority of the miners stood by the original union. With remarkable
discipline and tenacity, members survived for ten months on union allowances ofroughly one-third their normal wages. In June and July, after the security treaty was
renewed, some ten thousand to twenty thousand treaty protesters and union sympa­
thizers converged on Miike to support the strikers. For months, picketers kept thesecond union members from going to work. Numerous tense confrontations threatenedto spill over into major violence. One miner was killed by gangsterlike enforcers hiredby the company, and over seventeen hundred miners were injured during the courseof the dispute.
To keep order, the government sent in ﬁfteen thousand police troopers, 10 percentof the nation’s entire police force. Other mines remained open and temporarily sup­plied coal to Miike’s customers, even if this meant shortchanging their own regularcustomers. Bolstered by this managerial solidarity and tacit state support, the mine
company outlasted the union. In the fall of 1960, the original union was forced to

The peak of the confrontations between militant labor unions and managers determined tobreak the unions came with the Miike Mine dispute of 1959–60. The yearlong struggle be­
tween union and company focused on job security and control of the workplace and mobi­
lized the entire community. Here members of the Miike Mine Union Wives Association con­
front executives of the Mitsui Mining Company in April 1960.
Courtesy of Asahi newspaper.

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accept a government-mediated settlement. After a 313-day strike, the company won
the right to impose the entire rationalization plan.
That same October, a youth who belonged to an extreme right-wing organization
stabbed and killed the chairman of the Japan Socialist Party, Asanuma Inejirō. This
popular politician had aroused controversy the previous year by denouncing American
imperialism as the common enemy of the people of China and Japan. The shock was
intensiﬁed because of wide exposure: The assassination came during a televised speech
at a political rally. Just as the Miike strike was drawing to a close, this act of terror
only heightened the atmosphere of political crisis.

THE POLITICS OF ACCOMMODATION

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In the wake of these dramas and traumas of 1960, the political climate calmed. On
the right, key voices in the LDP, the bureaucracy, and the business elite deemphasized
the drive for constitutional revision and confrontation with unions. They sought towin support from at least a portion of the political opposition by stressing policies togrow the economy and improve popular welfare. They changed their tactics in theDiet by conferring informally with the opposition parties on numerous bills and mak­ing token changes to win their support. On the left, a cooperative (or co-opted) mi­
nority in the union movement and the conservative wing in the Japan Socialist Party
responded by repudiating the politics of confrontation on workplace as well as inter­national issues. The result was a new politics of high growth marked by accommo­
dation and compromise.
The centerpiece of the new LDP approach was Prime Minister Ikeda Hayato’s“income doubling plan.” Announced in September 1960, the plan set forth the goalof rapidly “achieving full employment and radically raising people’s living standard
by doubling the gross national product” by 1970.5 It exempliﬁed the philosophy ofstate guidance of the market economy that scholars have seen as the central idea ofwhat they call the “developmental state.”6 The plan set forth speciﬁc targets for in­vestment in priority industries, called for mergers and cooperation among companies,and committed the government to an active role in guiding the private sector toward
these goals. Ikeda further stimulated the economy by lowering taxes and interest rates.
Roughly three years ahead of schedule, the economy indeed doubled in size.
The income doubling plan was part of a conservative political strategy that had
been worked out beneath the turbulent political surface for about a decade. In the
1950s the LDP sought alliances with a variety of social constituencies beyond its
prewar base of landlords and the business elite. The LDP concluded the ﬁrst of several
implicit social contracts with the millions of farmers who had taken ownership of theirﬁelds under the land reform. The government regulated rice prices to protect farmers
from market ﬂuctuations throughout the 1950s. Then, in 1961, the new Agricultural
Basic Law put in place a system of even more generous price supports. In exchange,
the LDP won the solid support of rural voters. And farm districts accounted for adisproportionately large share of seats in the Diet because LDP leaders moved slowly
to redraw electoral district boundaries as the population shifted to cities.
A second core constituency of the LDP was the huge population of small-scalebusiness owners and their dependents. Throughout the postwar era, businesses with

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fewer than thirty employees in manufacturing, retail, and wholesale trade accounted
for well over half of the nonfarm labor force. Building on prewar organizations, thesebusinesses organized a powerful set of lobbies. The LDP responded from the early
1950s with a variety of helpful measures. The government taxed small businesses
lightly, and it did not enforce these taxes aggressively. The LDP also passed theDepartment Store Law in 1956. This bill made it virtually impossible for large retailers
or supermarkets to locate in the thousands of urban and suburban shopping districts
dominated by tiny “mom-and-pop” stores of every description. These stores gave thesprawling Japanese cityscape of the high-growth era a small-town feel. Their owners
and employees also gave the LDP crucial electoral support in urban districts.7
A third party to the social foundation of LDP rule came from a less likely source:salaried workers, both white and blue collar, in the highly unionized segment of thelabor force in large corporations. The United States played a role in promoting positive
ties between the LDP, business managers, and organized labor. Beginning in 1953 it
helped the Japanese government to found and fund a semi-independent institution
called the Japan Productivity Center (JPC). Proclaiming that increased productivity
would “expand markets, increase employment, raise real wages and standards of living,
and advance the common interests of labor, management and consumers,” the center
quickly reached out to factories across the country.8 In its ﬁrst two years, the center
sent ﬁfty-three small groups of managers and union leaders on missions to learn theart of productivity from the Americans. The pace of exchange increased thereafter.
Some important unions endorsed the productivity drive, and these labor groups
gradually became an informal part of the governing establishment. The two moreconservative federations, Sōdōmei and Zenrō, agreed to accept new technologies inexchange for a promise that jobs would be protected and productivity gains shared in
the form of higher wages. The Sōhyō federation, in contrast, vigorously opposed theJPC. It claimed that without a stronger union voice in setting conditions at work, newproductive technologies would actually cost jobs and erode working conditions. But
the overall union response led the Labor Ministry in 1957 to note happily “the birthof a practical, rather than an abstract, response to the productivity movement” at major
manufacturers.9
This cooperative spirit did not win the day immediately. Intense industrywide
struggles brought production to a halt in the iron and steel industry in 1957 and 1959,
and of course in the Miike mines in 1960. The militant tactics and progressive political
agenda of the Sōhyō federation continued to retain considerable support among public
sector employees. Unions of national railway employees, postal workers, prefecturaland municipal government employees, and public school teachers sought higher wages
and greater voice over the pace and conditions of work. They chafed at the fact that,since 1949, they had been denied the right to strike. As part of the annual spring
wage offensives of the 1950s and 1960s, they improvised an effective array of slow­
down tactics short of outright strikes. Public railway unions sought to “democratize”
the workplace by gaining some control over the the authority of supervisors and therelative weight of merit and seniority in setting wages. By 1967, the union had forced
the railway to create “workplace discussion councils” that gave the union control of
job assignments and promotions. By the early 1970s this union had forced railway
managers to reinstate seniority as a major factor in promotions and raises.10

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But in the private sector from the late 1950s through the 1960s, the militant forceof the labor movement faded in the face of the appeal of the productivity movement.11
In the wake of bitter struggles, cooperative leaders won control of most all private
sector unions. They argued that in the face of tough domestic and global competion,
long-run job and wage security demanded short-run moderation in wage demands andﬂexibility over work conditions and technology. Public sector workers, whose jobs
were insulated from the global economy, generally resisted such appeals. Faced withincentives both positive and negative, private sector employees were often convinced
to go along. Labor managers in large corporations wooed their workers in various
ways. They expanded a wide array of corporate welfare programs. This was a con­scious effort to preempt the appeal of similar welfare activities sponsored by unions
and to build a sense of belonging and obligation toward the company. Some welfare
programs dated from before or during the war; others were new. By the 1960s an
employee of any large corporation enjoyed an impressive array of cradle-to-grave
beneﬁts: company hospitals, health clinics, and stores; dorms for single workers; apart­ments for married employees with families; company-owned vacation retreats;company-sponsored trips, sports teams, and music festivals; commuter-train social
clubs; social organizations for employee wives; and more. At the same time, militantdissenters faced the daunting prospect of management discrimination in promotions
and pay raises.
Managers also extended implicit guarantees of job security. With rare exceptions
over the high-growth era (and beyond), they did not lay off workers outright even if
business slumped. In consultation with unions, they made substantial efforts to transfer
excess employees to other divisions or to subsidiaries. These policies have often beensummed up by the misleading term permanent employment. One problem with thenotion that men in Japan’s large companies had come to enjoy “lifetime” or “per­manent” jobs is that many so-called “permanent” employees decided on their own tolook elsewhere for work. In the 1960s in manufacturing industries, between one-third
to two-thirds of young male recruits typically quit their ﬁrst job within ﬁve years. The
other problem is that companies developed tactics such as the call for “voluntary
retirements” to oust unneeded or unwanted employees without resorting to outrightdismissal.
As these corporate policies were gradually implemented, the level of antagonism
receded between managers and employees in the workplace. In a related shift on thenational, political level, supporters of a more cooperative order provoked a major
realignment. In January 1960, the “right-wing” faction of the Japan Socialist Party(JSP) once again bolted, this time to form the Democratic Socialist Party (DSP). At
the moment of founding, it claimed 41 seats in the House of Representatives, although
the socialist mainstream retained a strong majority in the progressive camp of 125
representatives. The two federations in the conservative wing of the labor movement(Sōdōmei and Zenrō) supported this move. In 1962, they joined in a new federation
called Dōmei Kaigi with 1.4 million members. Again, this was signiﬁcantly smaller
than the 4.1 million members in the Sōhyō federation.12 In both party and union
organization, the “progressive” political forces were now divided into a left-wing ma­
jority and a right-wing minority. But even so, as a potential partner with the LDP,
this conservative-leaning minority had a signiﬁcance beyond its numbers.

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This move toward an informal centrist coalition was furthered decisively in 1964.
Some of the private sector unions within the Sōhyō camp pulled together a coalitionof cooperative unions in the automobile, shipbuilding, electronic, and iron and steel
industries that cut across the opposed national federations. This group was called theJapan Council of the International Metal Workers Union (abbreviated IMF-JC).
Aligned with the anti-communist IMF federation centered in North America and West­ern Europe, it called for wage moderation and more restrained use of strikes as abargaining tactic.
LDP strategists intensiﬁed their efforts to cultivate these allies. They were wellaware of the demographic shift of population from rural districts to cities and fromfarm work to the manufacturing and service sectors. They argued that the Socialist
Party was the natural, but not the inevitable, beneﬁciary of such trends. They urged
the LDP to offer a “labor compact” that would build bridges to “cooperative” unions
and offer security and improved livelihoods to the majority of working people.13 In
1964, encouraged by the formation of the IMF-JC, Prime Minister Ikeda took the¯ Kaoru, to discuss
unprecedented step of meeting the head of the Sōhyō federation, Ota
wages. They agreed to peg the public sector employees’ increases to those won by
private sector unions. Ikeda was anxious to use the more cooperative private sector¯ hoped to parlay this seat atunions as a lever to moderate public sector demands. Ota
the table into a stronger future voice. The Liberal Democrats were becoming a big
tent party. The political world was shifting from a politics of confrontation to one ofaccommodation.
Even so, signiﬁcant tensions remained. Sōhyō was still much larger than Dōmei.
The Japan Socialist Party was still much larger than the Democratic Socialist Party.
In fact the DSP did not fare well at the polls. In 1962 the party lost ground to thesocialists in the ﬁrst general election after its founding. The DSP fell sharply from 41
to 17 seats, while the JSP jumped to 145, and the DSP never matched its initialstrength in subsequent elections. Militant unions continued to organize energetic
spring wage offensives and to support political causes.
And in addition, major new conﬂicts emerged and signiﬁcant new forms of po­litical action developed. Observers labeled this the politics of “citizen movements.” It
was a form of activism distinguished by a nonpartisan spirit and relatively decentral­ized grassroots organizing. The wave of citizen activism peaked in the late 1960s andearly 1970s, but some groups remained important in later years as well.
Paciﬁst sentiment and anger at Japan’s compromised sovereignty, which had fu­
eled the 1950s protests against the security treaty, energized the new citizen move­ments as well. This spirit coalesced in the mid-1960s into a creative new form ofprotest, part of the drive against Japan’s role as an American staging ground for theVietnam War. Protestors feared that Japan might be drawn into a wider war. They also
believed that the United States was intervening in cruel, imperialist fashion in a civil
war. In 1965 grassroots citizens’ groups came together in a loose, non-hierarchicalnetwork called Citizen’s Federation: Peace to Vietnam! (abbreviated in Japanese as
Beheiren).14 Several Tokyo-based publications knit together the local groups, which
numbered almost ﬁve hundred at the peak in the late 1960s. Beheiren was remarkablefor maintaining no formal membership lists, bylaws, or dues. One estimate is thatover eighteen million people participated in some form of anti-war protest during thePolitical Struggles and Settlements of the High-Growth Era

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peak years from 1967 to 1970. The largest single demonstration drew 770,000 people
into the streets to denounce the automatic extension of the United States–Japan Se­
curity Treaty in June 1970. Less publically but of no less importance, Beheiren sup­porters offered aid to runaway American soldiers and helped organize anti-war activ­
ities of soldiers on the bases.15
Beheiren dissolved in 1974 as the war came to an end. One disappointment for
many of its adherents was the failure to generate a successful movement in 1970
against the second renewal of the United States–Japan Security Treaty. In 1960 a vote
was required to extend the treaty, which put the political burden to act on treaty
supporters. The 1970 extension was automatic unless the Japanese Diet (or American
Congress) decided to cancel it. This procedural difference put the burden of parlia­
mentary action on opponents. It largely explains why the 1970 protests were relatively
ineffective, despite some massive public demonstrations. But many of the students andadults who took part in these anti-war, anti-base activities later turned to other issues
and forms of citizen protest.
Parallel to the Beheiren protests, in the late 1960s Japanese university students,
like their counterparts the world over, undertook intense, often violent protests. For
over a decade the core of the student movement in the Zengakuren organization had
been riddled with factional conﬂicts setting communist-linked groups against a non­communist “new left.” Even so, in 1968–69 at the peak of the anti-war protests, student
radicals at more than half of all Japanese college campuses came together to launch
unprecedented strikes and boycotts. They protested increased tuition and demanded
curriculum reform and a greater role in university governance. In the spring of 1969,
many college campuses were virtually shut down. Zengakuren turned to a tactic ofarmed struggle called geba (from the German word for “force,” gewalt, pronounced
gebaruto in Japanese). Helmeted snake-dancing demonstrators took over classroombuildings and dormitories. That spring, for the ﬁrst time in its history, Tokyo Univer­sity took in no entering class. The movement collapsed in the summer of 1969, as
public sentiment turned against the student tactics. The government sent riot police
onto campuses throughout the nation to retake control.
Until the time of these violent protests and their suppression, it had been common
for student activists at major universities to move into positions with business or
government organizations after graduation. Mainstream employers were said to havevalued “leadership” skills, even if demonstrated in political protests against the estab­lishment. This attitude seems to have changed after the crisis of 1969. Reports cir­
culated of corporate blacklisting of student activists. The force and reach of the student
movement declined sharply from the 1970s onward.
Perhaps the most effective new area of citizen activism focused on the environ­ment. As industry expanded relentlessly and sometimes recklessly, air and water qual­
ity deteriorated sharply. The cost of a damaged environment, and the damaged healthof workers and residents, was neither imposed on producers nor borne by the govern­
ment. Nor was it subtracted from the soaring totals of the GNP. Indeed, if environ­mental destruction led to further economic activity in the building of water-puriﬁcation
plants or treatment of pollution victims in hospitals, these goods and services were
simply added to the “growing” economic numbers.
Already in the 1950s, symptoms of a devastating array of pollution-related dis­

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Demonstration during the student strike at Tokyo University in 1968 that paralyzed the uni­
versity for more than a year. Students supporting the Revolutionary Marxist faction assemblein front of the Yasuda Hall at the center of campus.

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eases had appeared. Mercury poisoning struck and killed residents in the vicinity ofchemical plants in southern Japan (Minamata) and northern Japan (Niigata). Cadmium
poisoning caused intense pain to residents of Fuchū city along the Jinzu River inToyama prefecture, in central Japan. Their afﬂiction was dubbed the “it hurts disease”(itai-itai byō). Air pollution around oil reﬁneries in Mie along the industrialized coast­line of central Japan generated a rash of serious asthma outbreaks. Similar illness
struck residents of the heavily industrialized cities of Yokohama and Kawasaki (nearTokyo) and Amagasaki (near Osaka). In these cases and others, victims sought redress
immediately, but efforts of the 1950s and early 1960s were ineffective. The polluters
typically denied responsibility and obstructed investigations. Local and national gov­
ernments were relatively passive.
Then, from the mid-1960s through the early 1970s, in similar fashion to the anti­
war protesters, local groups of pollution victims reached out to build strong networksof support nationwide. They improvised tactics such as sit-ins and boycotts. Theybought token shares in offending companies and used these as a foothold to disrupt
annual meetings. And they turned to the courts with lawsuits to demand compensation.
A series of landmark decisions were handed down in the “big four” pollution cases
from 1971 to 1973: Minamata and Niigata mercury poisoning, cadmium poisoning,
and asthma from air pollution. In all cases, the victims won the right to compensation.

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They established important precedents that forced the government and corporations totake preventive as well as remedial steps in the future.
One particularly intense episode of protest linked elements of the student move­
ment with normally conservative farming families. This was the long struggle against
construction of a new international airport near the town of Narita in Chiba prefecture,
about forty miles east of Tokyo. Plans for this airport began in 1966, when it became
clear that the capacity of the existing Haneda airport could not accommodate fastgrowing trafﬁc. The government chose the site because it could easily get hold of half
the needed land, which was owned by the imperial family as a hunting preserve. But
it moved in high-handed, clumsy fashion and tried to force farmers in the area to sell
the remaining land. A powerful alliance quickly formed between student activists andthese farmers. The former saw the conﬂict as a chance to attack the arrogance of the
oppressive bureaucratic state at the heart of the postwar capitalist system. The latterbegan with simple goals of keeping their land and defending their community. In time,
many came to support the broader political critique of the students. Protesters literally
dug in for a long struggle. They built a complex system of tunnels under the disputed
land and refused to move. Construction of the airport began in 1969. But the protesters
delayed completion of the runways from 1971 to 1975 and prevented authorities from
actually opening the airport for another three years, until 1978. It was only after highly
publicized pitched battles between heavily armored police and the ﬁercely opposed
farmers and students that the airport ﬁnally opened. Although most citizens repudiatedthe violent tactics of some activists, the Narita struggle did force the government to
respond to citizen concerns and take a more conciliatory approach in future projectsof this sort.16
Other important forms of citizen activism also developed in the 1960s and 1970s.17
These included movements to monitor product safety and popular networks of con­sumer cooperatives that sought to deliver fresh foodstuffs at reasonable prices. Women
as well as men were active in all forms of citizen protest, from the anti-war and student
movements to environmental organizations. They played an especially prominent rolein areas linked to domestic life. Consumer advocates did not support an uncritical,
materialist “consumerism.” They stressed high quality and product purity over low
price. They also built close links to farmer cooperatives and government agencies
concerned with protecting domestic products. In fact, their concern with safety stan­dards was sometimes criticized from abroad, with much justiﬁcation, as a disguisedform of protectionism.
From the late 1960s through the 1970s, this new politics of citizens’ movements
joined forces with an older partisan politics. In large and small cities nationwide,
residents organized around environmental issues, calls for better public housing, or
anti-base struggles to bring socialist or communist politicians to power. At the peakin 1975, as many as 147 cities, towns, or prefectures—including the seven major citiesof Tokyo, Osaka, Kyoto, Yokohama, Nagoya, Kawasaki, and Kobe—were headed bymayors or governors of left-wing parties.
This trend was dubbed the era of “progressive local government.” It was an un­
usual moment in Japan’s modern history when local governments ran ahead of thenational government. They took the initiative in areas ranging from environmental

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Farmers and students forged an unusual and unusually effective alliance during the pro­longed struggle to oppose construction of a new international airport at Narita, serving To­
kyo. Here the protesters have barricaded farmers’ ﬁelds to prevent the government from tak­ing their land as part of the new airport.

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legislation to social welfare beneﬁts. Perhaps the most famous progressive leader was
Minobe Ryōkichi, a professor turned politician who served as governor of Tokyo from1967 to 1980.18 He won strong support and wide attention for pioneering programs
such as free health insurance for Tokyo residents.
The central bureaucracy and the Liberal Democratic Party responded to these
unprecedented gains for the opposition by joining rather than ﬁghting. The LDP put
the local government initiatives on the national agenda. In 1973 it announced “YearOne of Welfare,” and it greatly expanded pensions and health insurance programs.
That same year, it strengthened environmental laws, passing a Pollution Related Dis­ease Compensation Law. This made it much easier for victims to gain some measureof economic support and medical care. These steps helped the conservative forces
regain support in urban areas, even though government ministries and the LDP cut
back on the more generous new programs by raising premiums or reducing beneﬁts
when the economy slowed down in the late 1970s.
Another new element on the political scene that promoted a centrist politics was
the religiously based Kōmeitō party (Clean Government Party, CGP). It drew support
from the hugely popular new religion called Sōka Gakkai (Value Creation Society).
Some leaders in this religion began to seek political ofﬁces in the 1950s with a plat­form of “clean government.” Sōka Gakkai formally launched the afﬁliated Kōmeitō
party in 1964. By the end of the decade, the CGP was the third largest political force

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in the Diet, after the Liberal Democratic Party and the Japan Socialists Party. At thispoint criticism mounted that the party was violating the postwar constitution’s sepa­
ration of church and state. The CGP responded by cutting all ofﬁcial ties to the Sōka
Gakkai religion, although in fact many candidates and most electoral support for theparty still came from Sōka Gakkai believers. The CGP labeled itself a “centrist party.”
It supported stronger welfare programs and defended the postwar constitution, but it
accepted the basic structures of the capitalist system. It often supported the progressive
candidates of the JSP in local elections. It also pulled both JSP and LDP toward thepolitical center, as they competed for the votes of Kōmeitō supporters.
The ﬂourishing of grassroots activism in the 1960s was not limited to the politicalleft or center. One of the most prominent efforts on the right was the drive to rees­
tablish a holiday to celebrate the “birth” of the Japanese nation. In the 1870s, theMeiji state had rather arbitrarily designated February 11 as Origin Day (Kigensetsu).
This was said to be the anniversary of the founding of the imperial state in 660 b.c.e.
under the legendary Emperor Jimmu. The holiday was abolished by the occupation
forces in 1948. From the 1950s into the 1960s, a campaign unfolded to revive theholiday. The movement was noteworthy not only for its support from conservative
political leaders beginning with Yoshida Shigeru in 1951. It also echoed the tactics of
the “citizen movements” by mobilizing masses of supporters through widely dispersed
networks. The association of Shinto shrine priests played a crucial role in this cam­paign, as did conservative politicians such as mayors and assemblymen in towns andvillages nationwide. The movement achieved apparent success in 1966, when a law
passed the Diet to establish February 11 as National Foundation Day. But contrary to
the hopes of more ideological supporters, the holiday did not establish a strong reli­gious tone of emperor worship along prewar lines.

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GLOBAL CONNECTIONS: OIL CRISIS AND THE END OF HIGH GROWTH

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Japan’s extraordinary era of double-digit economic growth ended abruptly in the fallof 1973. The major Arab oil producers restricted output toward countries, including
Japan, that were aligned with Israel in the Middle East War, which broke out that
October. Oil prices quadrupled in a matter of weeks. The Japanese government
quickly—some said cravenly—distanced itself from Israel. It suddenly found reason
to support the rights of Palestinians to a homeland. This solved the immediate crisisby convincing the Arab exporters to reopen the ﬂow of oil. But the huge cost of oil
imports led to a deﬁcit in international payments. Higher energy prices sparked amajor recession. They also sparked the worst inﬂation since the 1940s. In 1974, con­sumer prices increased by 25 percent. And for the ﬁrst time since the 1940s, GNP
actually declined in 1974, by 1.4 percent.
The “oil shock,” as it came to be called, had important social and cultural impacts.
The threat of disruption in Japan’s energy lifeblood conﬁrmed the worst fears of the
advocates of a self-sufﬁcient economy. It highlighted the vulnerability of a resourcepoor economy in an interdependent world and powerfully recalled the scarcity of thewartime and early postwar years, which were still a living memory for the millions
of adults in their forties or older. Consumers suddenly began to hoard all manner ofgoods, beginning with petrochemical derivatives such as laundry detergent. Pundits

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dubbed it the “toilet paper panic” when thousands of housewives crowded into su­
permarkets and emptied the shelves with panic-buying of this crucial necessity of dailylife.
The crisis also spurred the government to develop a long-range plan to reduce
Japan’s dependence on oil in general, and Middle East sources in particular. Bureau­crats accelerated plans to build nuclear power plants and more hydroelectic plants andfunded projects to develop alternative sources from shale oil and solar energy to plat­forms that might harness the movement of ocean waves. They simultaneously put
forward a call for “energy conservation” that harked back to the wartime rhetoric offrugality. MITI ministers turned down their heaters in winter and their air conditioners
in summer. They required schools and government buildings to do likewise, and theyurged all others to comply. In summer they came to work sporting a new look forofﬁce employees: no neckties and short sleeves. The combination of conservation anddiversiﬁcation succeeded to some extent. Dependence on oil from the Middle East fell
from 85 percent of Japan’s total oil supply in 1970 to 73 percent in 1980.
Double-digit inﬂation brieﬂy spurred a resurgence of militant labor protests. Or­
ganized workers had become relatively moderate in their demands and tactics throughthe 1960s, but in the spring wage offensive of 1974 they mounted a credible threatof strikes in many industries. They won the largest wage increases in history: anaverage hike in starting salaries of 33 percent.
Public employees were particularly vociferous. In contrast to unions in the private
sector, the militance of their organizations had grown through the 1960s and reacheda peak in the early 1970s. But union leaders ignored clear signs that the broader public
had turned hostile. When railway workers caused rush hour delays and extraordinary
crowding by using work-to-rule tactics during the 1973 spring wage offensive, angry
commuters rioted. At twenty-seven stations they beat drivers and smashed trains.
A turning point came in late 1975. Over one million public sector workers par­ticipated in the Strike for the Right to Strike.19 This general strike of public sector
employees failed. The labor movement could not mobilize on a broad front; privatecompany railway workers, for example, did not join. The public response was cool.
In contrast to the Miike strike ﬁfteen years earlier, few students rallied in support.
After one week, the unions called off their strike, having made no signiﬁcant gains.
The government took disciplinary action against roughly one million employees. It
ﬁred 1,015 leaders of the illegal strike. A long, slow decline of public sector unions
then began.20
Simultaneously, the leading private sector unions pulled back sharply from theiraggressive demands of the previous year. Managers and government leaders pleaded
that wage moderation was needed to control inﬂation, restore corporate proﬁts, andguarantee long-run job security. Union ofﬁcials in the major export industries, cen­
tered on the IMF-JC federation, now set the pace of annual wage demands in theprivate sector. They agreed with this logic. In 1975, they accepted wage increases
that averaged only 13 percent—one-third the level of the previous year. In hard-hit
industries such as shipbuilding, they also accepted major cutbacks in the work force;
thousands of long-time employees were forced to take early retirement. Unions im­
posed this sacriﬁce on a portion of their members for the sake of long-run promisesof security and shared beneﬁts for the rest. Members often questioned the wisdom

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of such ready cooperation, but dissenters were unable to alter the decisions made byunion leaders. In ﬁelds ranging from environmental and welfare policies to labormanagement relations, a political system marked by compromise and accommodation
had taken root.
The Japanese trajectories of the 1950s through the 1970s, from poverty to pros­
perity and from confrontation to accommodation, were very much part of a global
history of the postwar era. The devastated economies of Europe, Germany and Italyin particular, experienced their own “miraculous” recoveries in these decades. Amer­ican aid in the early days was crucial in all cases, as was the United States’ role inpromoting a more open world trading system. In Europe as in Japan, American tele­vision and movies promoted dreams of afﬂuence and the bright new life of middleclass consumers. American exports of technology, and Cold War projects to promote
non-communist political forces, inﬂuenced economic and political history around theworld.
Some of America’s outreach to Japan was covert. The CIA provided funding toanti-communist allies in the Liberal Democratic Party in the 1950s.21 Intelligence
operatives worked to promote pro-business unionists and obstruct those with radical
visions and militant tactics. The full scope of this covert American role in postwar
Japan, and in much of the world, is unknowable. But it seems safe to say that itweighted the scales in favor of political accommodations that were gradually evolving
in any case.
Other forms of political outreach at the height of the Cold War were more open.
In 1961, newly elected President John Kennedy appointed Edwin O. Reischauer tothe position of ambassador to Japan. As a university professor and a historian of Japan,
he was an unusual choice. But he had caught Kennedy’s attention with a 1960 article
calling for the repair of a “broken dialogue” with Japan in the wake of the riots andcanceled presidential visit during the security treaty crisis.22 He served as ambassador
until 1966. Reischauer worked vigorously to blunt the sharp edge of anti-American
sentiment on the political left and right. He also sought to inﬂuence cultural andintellectual life. He countered critical Marxist appraisals of Japanese history and so­ciety with a far more upbeat view of Japan as a successful model of non-communist
modernization.
The strong opposition of many Japanese to the American role in the Vietnam War
limited Reischauer’s immediate impact on United States–Japan relations. In addition,
the ongoing presence of American bases, and in particular the continued American
control of Okinawa, angered many Japanese across the political spectrum. In 1968,
U.S. President Lyndon Johnson promised to return Okinawa to Japanese control. In
1972, twenty years after the end of the occupation, the reversion took place. This
event marked an important halfway step toward a more amicable relationship. But theAmerican military continued to maintain a huge presence on the island. To this day,its bases cover about 20 percent of the best agricultural land in central and southern
Okinawa.23 This has remained a sore spot in United States–Japan relations both in
Okinawa and on the mainland.
People in Japan thus chafed at their uneasy position of subordinate independence
under the American strategic umbrella. At the same time, in an American-dominatedeconomic environment they prospered from the ability to process goods and sell them

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throughout the non-communist world. Part of the international signiﬁcance of Japan’s
high-growth era lies in the force of these politically constraining and economicallyliberating alignments.
But it is important to recognize that people in Japan were taking part in a sharedmodern experience that was not simply orchestrated in Washington or on Wall Street.
They were grappling with issues common throughout the newly interdependent—butstill divided—world order from the 1950s through the 1970s. Student protests,
women’s movements, and environmental movements came to the fore around the globe
more or less simultaneously. Many labor unions worldwide shifted from a stance asrebels to legitimate bargaining powers, sometimes part of governing coalitions. At
roughly the same time governments in the advanced capitalist world—of which Japan
had become a part—developed more extensive programs to extend social welfare
beneﬁts to the middle classes. The Japanese state and its citizens, like those elsewhere,sought to work out a balance between the drive for proﬁts and the desire for stable,
healthy, meaningful lives.

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Global Power in a Polarized World
Japan in the 1980s

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The emergence of Japan as a prosperous, conﬁdent, and peaceful nation was a striking
development of postwar global history. At home, from the 1970s through the 1980s,
some people swelled with pride bordering on arrogance at national achievements.
They chafed at the jealous criticism of foreigners. Some spoke nostalgically of thevanishing of older ways of life. They worried that the younger generation had lostthe focused commitment of their seniors. Others argued for a greater openness to theworld, more tolerance of variety, or more equality in the worlds of men and women.
They protested that ordinary Japanese, working long hours and commuting long dis­
tances from cramped homes, were not fully sharing the fruits of afﬂuence.
Views from outside mixed attitudes of envy with admiration. In the eyes of some,the image of Japan turned sharply from economic miracle to economic menace. Others
looked to a “Japanese model” as an alternative form of capitalism more successful
than the Western or American version. In this regard, the decade of the 1980s, inparticular, was a remarkable moment of satisfaction and congratulation, unimaginable
in the early postwar era and premature in retrospect.

NEW ROLES IN THE WORLD AND NEW TENSIONS
The reversion of Okinawa to Japanese control in 1972 eliminated a major legal rem­nant of the American occupation. Although U.S. troops and bases remained on theisland, the long-awaited return of sovereignty offered the possibility of a new equality
in the relationship of the United States to Japan. But two events of the previous year,
the so-called “Nixon shocks,” undercut this promise. In July 1971, U.S. president
Richard Nixon announced the stunning news of his plan to visit the People’s Republicof China (PRC). In short order the United States and the PRC established normal
diplomatic relations. Then, in August, Nixon announced that the United States would
abandon the gold standard and allow the cost of the dollar to ﬂuctuate against othercurrencies. The value of the yen rose sharply, reﬂecting Japanese economic power but
also making Japanese exports considerably more expensive.
Both of these announcements had major consequences for Japan. The fact that
Nixon made them without consultation or even prior notice angered the Japanese
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government and public. They concluded—with much justiﬁcation—that the American
government did not fully trust the Japanese state or regard it as an equal partner. Most
galling was that for two decades, despite considerable domestic opposition, the Jap­
anese government loyally had followed the American policy of isolating and “con­taining” the communist regime in China. When the American policy turned on a dime,
the Japanese were left embarrassed and scrambling to catch up. They did so by open­
ing diplomatic ties with the PRC in 1972. China-Japan economic links slowly devel­
oped in the 1970s. They took off in the 1980s with the Chinese turn to de facto
capitalism, and China became one of Japan’s leading trading partners.
Thus, despite the Okinawa reversion, the Nixon shocks marked a new era ofchronic tension in the partnership between Japan and the United States, in economic
matters especially. Beginning in 1965, Japan’s balance of trade with America had
shifted from chronic deﬁcit to a slight surplus of exports over imports, and in the
1970s, a ﬂood of Japanese products to the United States began to overwhelm the ﬂow
of American exports to Japan (see Figure 16.1). By the mid-1980s, Japanese exports
to the United States were valued at more than double the amount of American exports
to Japan. Annual U.S. trade deﬁcits with Japan stood at roughly ﬁfty billion dollars.
The basic pattern was consistent. Japan imported huge amounts of oil, raw ma-

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Year

Figure 16.1

United States–Japan Trade Balance, 1963–79

S o u rc e : U.S. Department of Commerce, Statistical Abstract of the United States (Washington, D.C.: US Gov­
ernment Printing Ofﬁce, 1963–1979).

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terials, and food, while it exported ﬁnished manufactured goods of increasing value
and quality. The result was not only a chronic export surplus with the advanced cap­
italist world, but also chronic political tension, with the United States above all. America’s most famous manufacturers were unable to match the price and quality of com­
petitive Japanese goods. In electronics, for example, twenty-seven U.S. ﬁrms produced
televisions at American factories in 1955. By the 1980s, only one, Zenith, continued
to manufacture TV sets in the United States.
Faced with this tough competition, American executives and labor unions fromas early as the 1960s began to complain vociferously about what they viewed as unfair
trade. They accused Japanese producers, with considerable justiﬁcation, of charging
high prices in protected domestic markets while “dumping” products overseas below
cost to win market share. Japanese ﬁrms, they said, could make up for losses at theinitial stage of market entry by raising prices later, when American competitors had
retreated or folded. Whether such tactics (remarkably similar to aspects of Microsoft’s
strategy in the 1990s) were unethical or simply smart business strategy depended
greatly on the interests of the observer.
In any case, the Americans used their political leverage to contain Japan’s tradeadvances. A series of acrimonious negotiations produced agreements in which Japa­
nese exporters “voluntarily” agreed to limit their sales to the United States, mostnotably in textiles (1972), steel (1969 and 1978), color TVs (1977), and then auto­
mobiles (1981 through 1993). In 1988, the U.S. Congress passed a trade bill whose“Super 301” clause granted the government the power to unilaterally decide that thedomestic markets of Japan or other foreign countries were unfairly closed to imports
and unilaterally impose penalties on exporters of those countries in retaliation. The
likelihood that this law would be invoked against Japan provoked harsh Japanesecriticism that it revived the gunboat diplomacy of the nineteenth century, when Amer­ican or British warships dictated the terms of trade to weaker states all around theworld. Indeed, soon after the law was passed, the Americans used the threat of Super
301 sanctions to enforce access to Japanese markets in supercomputers, satellites, andwood products.
Above all, the automobile quotas dramatically brought into focus the turnabout
in Japanese and American fortunes. General Motors and Ford had long been the prideof the American industrial heartland and the engine of postwar prosperity. Their prod­
ucts had symbolized the good life of the American Dream for decades. Now, unlessthe government helped them with trade quotas, these humbled giants could not con­vince Americans to choose their vehicles. Consumers by the millions were turning toeconomical, increasingly reliable cars from Toyota or Nissan, Mazda or Subaru.1 Tradetensions sometimes erupted in nasty symbolic displays, as when American autowork­ers protested by smashing to bits a Japanese car in front of TV cameras. They led toat least one tragic instance of racial violence. In 1982, two autoworkers beat a young
Chinese-American man in Detroit to death with a baseball bat. It appears that they
attacked him in the belief that he was Japanese. Their trial produced the extraordinarily
light sentence of three years’ probation and a modest ﬁne.2
The American government also pressed a case for a more general restructuringof United States–Japan trade and economic relations through the 1970s and 1980s. In
1979, the two governments agreed to appoint a small group of so-called wise men to294

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offer advice on long-range steps to reduce trade friction. A decade later, from 1989
to 1990, American and Japanese trade negotiators were still focused on broad struc­tural issues in the so-called Structural Impediments Initiative (SII). The idea was tochange the underlying structure that produced economic imbalance, such as American
budget deﬁcits and low savings rates, and Japanese import barriers, such as the cum­bersome distribution system that inhibited price competition. The talks produced var­ious sensible ideas, but few were politically feasible.
As Japanese banks and corporations accumulated huge reservoirs of foreignexchange, investment followed the trade routes. Japanese institutions began to invest
in American treasury bills. These purchases ﬁnanced the ballooning U.S. budget def­
icits of the 1980s. In addition, Japanese corporations committed large sums to building
manufacturing plants in the United States, Europe, and Asia. Japan’s global foreign
direct investments (FDI) stood at barely one billion (U.S.) dollars in the mid-1960s.
By 1975, total Japanese FDI topped ﬁfteen billion dollars, and by the end of the 1980s
cumulative FDI came to roughly ﬁfty billion dollars. North America was the site ofabout 40 percent of these investments, followed by Europe, Asia, and Latin America.
As Japan’s economy—and land prices—soared, Japanese investors made some partic­
ularly high-proﬁle purchases of famous American properties that struck them as rel­
ative bargains, such as the Pebble Beach golf course (1990) and the venerable Rocke­
feller Center in the heart of Manhattan (1989). These deals sparked headlines in the
United States of Japanese “takeovers” and “invasions.” The tone of some criticism
harkened back to the racist anti-immigrant rhetoric that had targeted the Japanese fromthe early twentieth century through World War II. In one famous example, the wellknown journalist Theodore White wrote a front page story for the New York Timesmagazine in 1985 titled “The Danger from Japan.” The photo spread contrasted agleaming new Japanese steel mill with a rusted and vacated American facility. White’s
article accused Japan of “dismantling American industry.” He claimed that Japan’s
economic gains resulted from a sinister long-term program to dominate the global
economy.3
Despite such denunciations, the economies of the United and Japan were moreinterdependent than ever. Policymakers understood this. Even while government ne­
gotiators continually argued about trade, state ofﬁcials also cooperated in multilateral
as well as bilateral economic policy. In 1964, Japan had joined the Organization for
Economic Cooperation and Development, a body that primarily addressed common
issues of the advanced industrial economies and their relations to the rest of the world.
Then, beginning in 1975, the heads of state of the seven leading capitalist economies,
including Japan, began a regular series of annual “summit” meetings.4 The role ofhost nation rotated among the members, who came to be called the “group of seven”
or “G-7 nations.” They discussed coordination of macroeconomic policies to control
inﬂation and encourage growth and trade. In addition, the ﬁnance ofﬁcials of the G­
7 nations, and a core “G-5” group that also included Japan, began to meet on a regularbasis in the 1980s. Japan’s participation in these meetings was a sign of the nation’scentral role in the global economy. This was a source of pride. It was also, however,a source of pressure on Japan to design economic policies to serve international aswell as national interests.
Among the most important decisions of the G-5 was the Plaza Accord of 1985

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(named after New York’s Plaza Hotel, where the ministers met). To help their own
industries, the ﬁnance ministers sought to boost Japanese imports by coordinating
currency purchases to strengthen the yen. They also asked the Japanese government
to stimulate domestic demand. The Finance Ministry obliged with a policy of low
interest rates and ﬁscal expansion. To boost domestic spending it doled out huge grants
to local governments to invest in all manner of projects from roads and bridges toamusement parks and museums. Easy money had complex effects. It helped companies
to invest in state-of-the-art technology that could lower production costs and sustain
global competitivity despite the rise in the yen. It also provoked the dramatic asset
inﬂation of the late 1980s, Japan’s so-called bubble economy.
Japan’s relations with Asia and the rest of the world also involved a complex mix
of tension and cooperation. Postwar economic relations with Asian nations developed
slowly. In the 1950s the Japanese government had restored economic ties to Southeast
Asia with reparations agreements. In four separate treaties with Burma, the Philip­
pines, Indonesia, and South Vietnam Japanese companies gave $1.5 billion worth of
manufactured goods to the governments of these countries. The Japanese government
paid the bill. Building on the connections created by these reparations deals, trade
gradually expanded. By the 1980s, the United States accounted for roughly one-thirdof Japan’s export trade. But China, South Korea, Taiwan, and the Southeast Asian
nations together stood a close second as trading partners, well ahead of Europe.
Considerable historical irony attended this development. As the Allied occupation
drew to a close, American strategists had supported a revival of Japan’s “empire to
the south.” They had expected Southeast Asia to be Japan’s most important economic
partner, playing a semicolonial role as customer for Japanese manufactured goods andsource of raw materials. As it turned out, Japan indeed built solid economic ties in
Asia. Yet, despite the imperial presence of its troops on Japanese soil, from the 1950s
through the 1980s it was the United States that played an even greater role in asemicolonial pattern as seller of raw materials to Japan and buyer of manufactured
goods.
Unsettled issues of the wartime era marked and marred Japan’s postwar, postco­
lonial relationship with the governments and people of other Asian nations. Although
the Soviet Union and Japan normalized diplomatic ties in 1956 and opened traderelations, the two countries did not conclude a treaty of peace. A dispute over territory
stood in the way. Both governments claimed sovereignty over what Japanese called
their “northern islands” (located at the southern end of the Kuril chain. The disagree­
ment remains unresolved to this day. Despite the reparations agreements and expand­ing economic ties, Southeast Asians often criticized Japanese businesses for what they
considered to be predatory trading and investment practices that left no beneﬁt to thehost nations. In 1974, the Japanese public was shocked when major anti-Japanese riots
greeted Prime Minister Tanaka Kakuei during a visit to Bangkok and Jakarta.
The most complex postcolonial relationship was that with Korea. Facing oppo­
sition from the Japanese left, from North Korea, and from many within South Korea,
the Japanese and South Korean governments could not negotiate the Treaty on Basic
Relations until 1965. As ﬁnally concluded, this agreement recognized the Republic ofKorea (South Korea) as the sole legitimate Korean government. It negated the validityof the 1910 Japanese annexation of Korea and all prior treaties. South Korea waived

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future reparations claims, but Japan extended $800 million dollars (U.S.) in economic
aid. Economic ties ﬂourished through the 1970s, and in the 1980s especially. By 1990
South Korea was Japan’s third largest trading partner.
But serious tensions persisted. In 1973 agents of the Korean CIA kidnapped Kim
Dae Jung, a prominent Korean opponent to the authoritarian regime of President Park
Chung Hee, from a hotel in Tokyo. They took him by force to Seoul. These actions
clearly violated Japanese sovereignty and infuriated public opinion in Japan. Koreans,

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on their part, remained deeply enraged at their treatment by the Japanese during thedecades of colonial occupation and war. Thus, when a Korean resident of Japan at­
tempted to assassinate President Park Chung Hee in 1974, the assassin’s long-term
residence in Japan painted the Japanese with a sort of guilt by association in thiscontext of historical animosity.
From this low point in the mid-1970s, the Japanese government made substantial
efforts to improve its relations with Asian countries. At a meeting of the Associationof Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) in 1977, Prime Minister Fukuda Takeo ex­pressed a strong desire to strengthen Japanese cooperation with Southeast Asia. Fol­lowing this, Japanese and ASEAN ofﬁcials began to meet regularly. Japan greatly
increased its foreign aid spending (ofﬁcial development assistance, or ODA) in the
1980s. In 1991, it became the world’s largest donor, surpassing the United States.
Japan has remained the world’s leader in the annual dollar value of development aid
since then. The largest share of Japanese ODA (roughly 60 percent) went to Asia.
Direct investments offering employment opportunities increased substantially as well.
Prime Minister Nakasone Yasuhiro took the lead in promoting stronger ties with
Korea in the early 1980s. He promised substantial economic aid ($4 billion). In an
important symbolic step during Nakasone’s term as prime minister, the Shōwa em­
peror (Hirohito) gingerly apologized to the visiting South Korean President Chun Doo
Hwan for the brutality of the colonial era. He noted his “sincere regret” for the “un­fortunate past.”
But it remained difﬁcult for the Japanese government and people to erase the
distrust held by many Asians. In 1982 Japan’s Ministry of Education sparked a huge
outcry from China and South Korea when it suggested that the authors of public school
history textbooks make revisions that minimized Japan’s aggression. The ministry’s
textbook ofﬁce, for example, recommended relabeling the “invasion” of China in 1937
as an “incursion.” Japanese and world media generally described these as requiredchanges. In fact, the government had made nonbinding “suggestions,” and the text­
books were not changed. But understandably, for the Japanese government to suggestthat treatment of the war be toned down in this way was sufﬁcient to infuriate Koreans
and Chinese, in particular. The governments of South Korea and the PRC made formal
protest to the Japanese state over the incident. In 1986 the minister of education further
enraged Koreans with a claim that the Koreans were in part responsible for the Jap­
anese annexation of Korea in 1910. He was forced to resign.
From the 1980s through the 1990s, major political ﬁgures made a succession ofsuch volatile comments on Japan’s recent history, on one occasion minimizing thescope of the massacres in Nanjing, on another asserting that Korea was colonizedwillingly rather than by force. Each such pronouncement sparked outrage abroad andusually cost the speaker his job. These controversies originated in the sharply polarizedview of Japan’s responsibility for World War II. Signiﬁcant differences remained alive
not only between Japanese people and others but also within Japan.
Those on the Japanese left blamed military and bureaucratic elites together withcorrupt, illiberal politicians and monopoly capitalists for pursuing expansionism andmilitary conquest without regard to the human costs. They contended that the war wasboth strategically unwise and morally unacceptable, although they generally ques­

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tioned the morality of the leaders and not ordinary people. They saw popular support
for the war as the result of censorship, manipulation of the education system and mass
media, and outright suppression of dissent.5
In contrast, many government ofﬁcials and conservative intellectuals developed avery different understanding of the recent past. The ﬁrst major statement of this po­
sition was In Afﬁrmation of the Great East Asia War, written in 1963 by Hayashi
Fusao, a writer of proletarian ﬁction in the 1920s who converted to an ultra-nationalist
position in later years. Hayashi and others defended Japan’s wartime motives as pure.
They claimed that the nation led a war to liberate Asia from the grip of Westernimperialism. They pointed to the fact that the Japanese occupation of Southeast Asia
ended Dutch and British colonial rule and began the process by which the French
were ousted from Indochina. They gave less attention to the inconvenient facts ofJapan’s own colonial rule in Korea or Taiwan, or later in Manchuria and China.
If anything, arguments over “war responsibility” increased in their intensity as the
war receded into the past. The effort to deny responsibility fell on increasingly recep­
tive ears at times of economic friction, when many Japanese felt they were unfairly
criticized for simply working hard and succeeding in the global economy. Thus,
through the 1980s, Asian hostility to Japan was kept alive not simply by old memoriesof the past. It was fueled anew by the unwillingness or inability of many Japanesepeople, including cabinet ministers, to look back on that past with sympathy for theexperience of others.

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Through the 1970s and 1980s tensions with Asia and the West were chronic but
contained. They did not provoke a major crisis at home in part because of the soothing
effect of continued economic growth and the spreading fruits of afﬂuence. After abrief recession during the ﬁrst oil crisis, the Japanese economy recovered quite
smartly. From 1975 through the end of the 1980s, it grew at remarkably consistentpace, with average annual rates of GNP growth ranging from 4 to 5 percent.
The contrast with the performance of other advanced capitalist economies, not tomention the Soviet Union, was striking. In Western Europe in the 1970s and 1980s,
economic growth was anemic, inﬂation and unemployment were high, and labor pro­tests were widespread. The major European economies grew at half the Japanese pace,or less. In the United States the late 1970s were years of so-called stagﬂation: stagnant
growth rates and double-digit inﬂation. In the early years of Ronald Reagan’s presi­
dency, from 1980 through 1983, the industrial heartland—now dubbed the “rustbelt”—experienced a deep recession. Unemployment in major midwestern states
climbed to the range of 10 to 13 percent in these years.
In Japan, not only was the economy growing, but inﬂation was modest and un­
employment remained below 2 percent. In addition, through the 1970s and 1980s,
Japan’s industrial productivity increased at the fastest rates in the world.6 In the late1980s, corporate Japan turned particularly exuberant in its behavior, at home as well
as abroad. Businesses embarked on a record surge of investment in new plants andequipment. Rates of gross ﬁxed capital formation were close to 30 percent of GNP
annually between 1985 and 1989, numbers comparable to the pace of investment in299

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the peak years of high growth in the 1960s. It is no wonder that people in Japan
looked around the world with increasing conﬁdence at their success and good fortune(see Table 16.1).
Many looked with particular pride at what had come to be called “the Japanesemanagement system.” Japanese manufacturers in the 1960s had proved able to produce
quality goods in an era of expansion and global growth. Now they showed the ability
to adjust and prosper in tough times. In the 1970s they faced soaring energy costs
and weak foreign demand. In the 1980s they faced soaring export costs because of
the expensive yen. They adjusted with a drive toward what pundits dubbed “stream­
lined management.”7
Firms facing excess capacity, slack demand, or high costs eased out thousands ofworkers with the cooperation of their unions. The shipbuilding industry, for example,
eliminated 115,000 jobs between 1974 and 1979. This cut overall employment in thatindustry by roughly one-third. Facing tough competition from new Korean mills in
the late 1980s, the top ﬁve iron and steel producers likewise cut employment by onethird. Few workers were ﬁred outright in either case. Those targeted for streamlining
were reassigned to subcontractors or offered inducements to take “voluntary” early
retirement. Large companies expanded ﬂexibility by hiring increased numbers of
women as part-time workers who were easily let go when business slackened. For
similar reasons they contracted numerous auxiliary functions to outside ﬁrms. They
spurred on the remaining workers by increasing the weight of annual merit ratings indecisions about promotions and raises.
Even as they streamlined work forces, corporate managers carried on a famous
drive to increase quality and contain costs through innovation in the workplace. The
emblem of this was the movement for quality control (QC). This campaign began in
the 1950s as something called “statistical quality control (SQC).” It was an American
import. In ﬁrst the United States and then Japan in the 1950s, expert staff used chartsya

TABLE 16.1 Real GNP Growth of Major Economies in the 1980s (change inAr

percent over prior year)
Japan

United Kingdom

United States

FranceWest Germany

1980

4.3

�2.6

0.2

1981
1982
1983

3.7
3.1

�0.5
1.4

1.9
2.5

1.6
1.2
2.5

1.5
0.0
�1.0

1984
1985

3.2
5.1
4.9

4.1
2.2
3.1

3.6
6.8
3.4

0.7
1.3
1.9

1.9
3.3
1.9

1986
1987

2.5
4.6

4.3
4.4

2.7
3.7

2.5
2.2

2.3
1.7

1988
1989
Average, 1980–89

5.7
4.9
4.5

4.3
1.5
3.5

4.4
3.0
3.4

3.9
3.8
2.8

3.6
4.0
2.7

Source: Foreign Press Center, Japan, ed. Facts and Figures of Japan, 1991 (Tokyo: Foreign Press Center, 1991),
p. 31.

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and sophisticated analysis to examine work processes and impose changes that would
raise productivity or quality.
The Japanese innovation in production management that attracted global attention
was to draw the entire work force into the QC movement. From the 1960s throughthe 1970s, ﬁrst supervisors such as foremen and then rank-and-ﬁle operatives andclerical staff formed thousands of study groups called QC Circles. Roughly eight toten men and women would meet regularly, sometimes on their own time, to learn
basic problem-solving and statistical techniques. They would then analyze their jobs
and come up with strategies to make work more productive or efﬁcient, or in somecases safer and less taxing.
The movement was made possible by high levels of employee education. It wasalso enabled by managerial commitments to job security, since QC groups often cameup with changes that reduced the need for employees in a given work group. The“extra” personnel were usually reassigned to other jobs. By the late 1980s over two
million working men and women in Japan had been registered at one time or anotherin over 260,000 quality circles.8 Critics noted, with justiﬁcation, that participation was
hardly voluntary as management claimed. Those who did not join faced retribution inpromotions or raises. Polls showed that a substantial portion of the participants con­sidered the circles “burdensome” or “stressful.” But many of these groups did offer
workers a welcome chance to apply their own rich knowledge of their jobs to upgrade
their skills as well as to raise productivity or improve quality.
By the afﬂuent 1980s, the once loud dissenting voices of militant unionists on
the inside of the corporation, or citizen activists on the outside, were scarely audible.
Foreigners ﬂocked to Japanese factories to study the secrets of the managerial system.
Highly paid Japanese consultants reexported the revised “total quality control” (TQC)
program to the United States.
Japan had become an extraordinarily corporate-centered society. The majority ofpeople believed that what was good for the company was good for the larger society.
Pundits grandly celebrated the success of the Japanese system. In 1986, the eminentpromoter of Japanese-style quality control, Karatsu Hajime, offered this claim: “I be­
lieve that the results of Japan’s experimentation [in industrial management] should be
disseminated throughout the world. . . . More fundamentally, Japan should offer a pos­
itive challenge to the Cartesian assumptions underlying Western business methods.”9Karatsu’s analysis was typical of a genre of writing called “theories of the Jap­
anese,” or Nihonjinron. Such work typically stresses the particular uniqueness of Japanin realms ranging from traditions of thought, aesthetics, social or economic organi­zation, and political culture to neurobiological traits such as the tendency to use one
side of the brain more than the other. Nihonjinron has a long history, going back at
least to mid-Meiji thinkers such as Miyake Setsurei and Okakura Tenshin and foreignobservers of that time such as Ernest Fenellosa. As Japan’s economy ﬂourishedthrough the 1980s, so did the cultural industry producing “theories of the Japanese.”
As before, they stressed the uniﬁed cohesiveness of the whole of the Japanese people,
obscuring important differences and tensions within. Bookstores would typically de­vote a special section to works of Nihonjinron.
Some of this writing was superﬁcial and silly. Writers pointed to traits ranging
from toilet functions and nose picking to Japan’s version of pinball, called pachinko,

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as emblematic aspects of a unique Japanese culture.10 This sort of thinking emboldened
Japanese trade negotiators to make some remarkable claims. One defended import
restrictions on beef on the grounds that the unique structure of Japanese intestines
could not tolerate imported sirloin. Another defended the domestic sporting goods
industry by claiming that the special character of Japanese snow ruled out importing
foreign skis.
One of the more interesting “theories of the Japanese” was put forth in The
Anatomy of Dependence (Amae on kōzō). This book identiﬁed a psychological traitof “dependence” (amae) as a deﬁning feature of Japanese culture. The author, a noted
psychiatrist, Doi Takeo, took care not to portray “the Japanese” as unique; he sug­gested that this psychological dynamic, although very prominent in Japan, could befound in societies around the world.11 The best-selling foreign work of this era on theparticularity of Japan was titled Japan as Number One.12 Its author, Harvard professor
Ezra Vogel, reﬂected—and furthered—the conﬁdent spirit of this time. He claimed
that the Japanese had synthesized a remarkably successful social and economic system,from which Americans and others might take lessons. The book sold well in the UnitedStates but found its true audience in translation among Japanese readers proud to be
told of their special positive achievements.

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In such a buoyant context, it is no great surprise that the Liberal Democratic Party
continued in power. Two sorts of men dominated the ruling party. Career politicians
built power upon strong local bases, usually in rural Japan. They protected the interestsof powerfully organized constituents such as farmers or the construction industry andproﬁted from their support. The archetype of this sort of ruler was Tanaka Kakuei, aself-made dynamo dubbed “the computerized bulldozer.” He built his political fortune
as king of the construction industry ﬁrst in his native Niigata and then throughout
Japan. He served as prime minister from 1972 to 1974. He also used his personal
wealth and access to corporate generosity to consolidate the most powerful faction
within the party. His main tactic was simple: He bankrolled the campaigns of his
grateful followers. For nearly two decades after he resigned as prime minister in theface of scandal, the Tanaka faction dominated Japanese politics behind the scenes.
Two of his own faction members served as prime minister, Takeshita Noboru (1987–89) and Hashimoto Ryūtarō (1996–98), while several other prime ministers, mostnotably Nakasone Yasuhiro, owed their jobs to the support of Tanaka’s faction. Whenthe LDP voted him into ofﬁce as prime minister in 1982, Nakasone noted with some
awe that “the might of the Tanaka army has been brought home to me as neverbefore.”13 (See Appendixes A and B for details of prime ministers and election results.)
Career bureaucrats-turned-politicians were the second source of LDP leadership.
They built power on their elite credentials and close ties to their powerful ministriesof origin, Finance and MITI in particular. The leading politicians of the 1950s and1960s, each of whom served as prime minister, were Kishi Nobusuke (1957–60), Ikeda
Hayato (1960–63), and Satō Eisaku (1963–72). All three began their careers as elitebureaucrats in these ministries or their wartime predecessors. The two most prominent
such ministry men in the 1970s, who led the party through the oil crises and recovery,

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¯
Masayoshi (1978–80). The bureaucratic
were Fukuda Takeo (1976–78) and Ohira
politicians needed the ﬁnancial and electoral clout of the career pols, while the latter
needed the expertise of the bureaucrats. The two groups often viewed each other withscorn. The struggles between the Fukuda and Tanaka factions, in particular, were
famous. On the eve of Tanaka’s election as prime minister in 1972 the so-called FukuKaku War nearly split the party in two.
But LDP unity held. Through the end of the 1980s, the opposition parties wereunable to break the LDP’s Diet majority or shake its control of the prime ministershipand the cabinet. The opposition seemed to have a demographic advantage. Socialists,
communists, and the CGP (Clean Government Party) all gained support from theincreased numbers of urban “ﬂoating” voters not part of the organized conservative
base. As a result, in 1967 total LDP votes fell below 50 percent in a lower houseelection for the ﬁrst time. The party has not won an outright majority of votes in alower house election since then. But it kept a majority of Diet seats by drawing district
lines to give disproportionate weight to its solid rural base. Observers by the 1970s
were describing Japan as a country with a “one and one-half party system.” Bureau­crats with close ties to the party wrote laws and designed budgets. The party madesure these were approved by the Diet. Big business funded LDP election campaigns
and reaped beneﬁt from its policies. The “iron triangle” seemed virtually rust-proof.
Two sources of corrosion led to the only slight cracks in the unity and power ofthe ruling triad in these years. The ﬁrst was corruption. Perhaps inevitably, given its
long years in power and its practice of trading favors to funders, scandals sometimes
broke to the surface. In 1974 a maverick reporter published a scathing exposé in a
major monthly magazine. It detailed the massive shady deals, in the construction
business above all, that ﬁnanced Tanaka Kakuei’s political empire. The mainstream
media jumped on the bandwagon. Later that year, Tanaka resigned as prime ministerin the face of ﬁerce scrutiny and public criticism. Two years later, Tanaka’s political
troubles took on an extraordinary international dimension. A witness who spoke to a
United States Senate committee accused Tanaka of pocketing several million dollars
in bribes from America’s Lockheed corporation in 1972. In return, Tanaka had alleg­
edly directed civilian and military aircraft purchases to Lockheed, whose executives
were allies of President Nixon. In 1983 Tanaka was convicted of bribe-taking, al­though he never served time in jail.
Later in the 1980s, political scandal became a chronic factor on the political scene.
The Recruit incident of 1988 implicated former Prime Minister Nakasone and mostof his cabinet. The scandal touched dozens of politicians, including some in the op­
position parties. They were accused of taking illegal contributions and stock options
from the head of the upstart Recruit publishing company. A similar scandal involving
the hugely successful Sagawa Express Delivery company tainted some of Tanaka
Kakuei’s closest followers in 1992. Top politicians were never actually convicted ofcrimes in these cases, but the continuing run of scandal bred deepening public cyni­
cism toward the LDP and politicians in general.
The other source of corrosion of conservative hegemony was discontent that thefruits of afﬂuence were not shared equally and that the rush to afﬂuence had destroyed
the environment and ignored social welfare. In the elections of 1976 and again in
1983, such discontent combined with the fallout from the Tanaka scandals to swing

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votes away from the LDP. On both occasions the party fell just a few seats short ofa parliamentary majority, but each time the LDP drew in a handful of independent
Diet members to secure scant majorities. The opposition parties together nearly
equaled the LDP in the number of seats, and Diet rules gave them control of a few
parliamentary committees. The press called this a new era of “parity politics.”
The greater bargaining power of the opposition produced little signiﬁcant shift inpolicy. In the move toward political accommodation of the 1970s, the LDP had already
co-opted key opposition demands for expanded social welfare. The emergence ofcentrist parties had likewise blunted the sharp edge of political contention. The Japan
Socialist Party, still the largest opposition force, grew increasingly tepid in its criti­cism. In a sense, its greatest contribution was now a conservative one. It defended thestatus quo of the postwar democratic constitution against occasional talk of revision.
The leadership of all parties was increasingly entrenched, and rarely inclined to takebold initiatives. By 1980, as many as 140 of the 512 Diet seats in the House ofRepresentatives were occupied by so-called hereditary representatives. These were
sons, daughters, grandchildren, or even great-grandchildren of veteran parliamentari­ans. Nearly 90 percent of these “legacy” politicians were in the LDP. Another 7 percent
were in the JSP.
The key policy initiatives of these years came from the conservative side of theaisle. Politics in Japan was moving in tandem with trends in Britain and America inparticular. British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and U.S. President Ronald Rea­
gan cut back welfare programs while deregulating and privatizing major industries.
The Japanese government of the mid-1980s, in particular the Nakasone administration,
launched a similar campaign for “ﬁnancial and administrative reform.” By 1987, Na­kasone cut the annual budget deﬁcit roughly in half. His policies won considerable
support, and the LDP regained a solid Diet majority in the lower house election of
1986. By 1990, further helped by increased revenue thanks to a new consumption tax
and a booming economy, the Japanese budget stood roughly in balance.
Nakasone’s government also privatized several huge public corporations, in par­ticular the debt-ridden Japan National Railway (JNR) and the Public Telephone Com­pany. A key goal of these moves, beyond saving money by forcing the new corpo­
rations to operate without subsidy, was to break the back of the JNR union, the one
large remaining site of labor militance. The Socialist Party and the JNR union resisted
privatization vigorously, the former with political pressure in the Diet, the latter withvarious protests in the workplace. Thousands of union leaders lost their jobs, accusedof illegal labor dispute tactics. The opponents of privatization claimed that it was
justiﬁed for the government to operate and subsidize such a crucial public service, but
Nakasone prevailed. The government railway and telephone service were reorganizedas private corporations, called Japan Railway (JR) and Nippon Telephone and Tele­graph (NTT). The management of JR took a number of signiﬁcant steps such as
closing down money-losing rural lines and focusing on proﬁtable interurban routes.
The new private telephone company, NTT, in contrast, continued to act as a rather
complacent near-monopoly. For years it was notorious for high rates and its molass­eslike pace of moving to provide new forms of telecommunication service.
The cost of welfare services to an aging society emerged as another crucial po­
litical issue in the 1980s. As health care improved, the average Japanese life expec­

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tancy rose steadily. Already by 1977 it had reached the highest levels in the world,
surpassing that of Sweden. At this point, men in Japan lived to an average of 73 years,
women 78 years. These numbers continued to slowly improve through the 1980s and1990s. The birthrate (the number of children the average woman would bear in a
lifetime) also declined steadily. By 1990 it hit an all-time low of 1.6, sparking worried
talk of a looming “baby bust.” Many commentators lamented the trend toward laterage of marriage and smaller families. Men in the government tended to blame selﬁshyoung women. Feminist observers noted persuasively that many women were probably
postponing marriage and childbirth to avoid the double burden of caring for children
and aging parents simultaneously, while their husbands commuted to distant jobs andworked long hours.
These two trends of longevity and a baby drought combined to increase Japan’s
ratio of elderly to young more rapidly than anywhere in the world. Nakasone called
for a more “efﬁcient” social welfare system that would rely on family and neighbor­hood services—especially the services of women in the home—as well as state-funded
programs to care for the elderly. This policy of relying on community and family wasconsistent with the overall pattern of social welfare programs in Japan reaching backto the prewar era.14 In the mid-1980s, medical premiums were raised and other costsof the welfare system were shifted from government to citizens.
Another high-proﬁle political reform of the 1980s followed closely the 1970s
pattern of conservative co-optation of the progressive agenda. Demands for increased
equality of the sexes rose globally in the 1970s, leading the United Nations to adopt
a convention to eliminate discrimination against women. Japan’s own constitution was
clearly committed to equality of women and men, so the Japanese government had
little choice but to sign this convention in 1980. It also had little enthusiasm for major
reform. Prodded by a growing feminist movement in Japan and committed to takesome action, the government took various steps. It changed the citizenship law so thatJapanese women married to foreign men could claim Japanese citizenship for theirchildren. Until this point only Japanese men married to foreigners could confer citi­
zenship on their children. The government also drew up the Equal Employment Op­
portunity Law for Men and Women (EEOL), which passed the Diet in 1985. It called
for employers to provide equal hiring, training, and career opportunities for women.
It provided the government with no signiﬁcant enforcement powers and speciﬁed nosanctions against violators. But as a symbolic statement of a desirable social goal, it
had some impact on employer policies. Most leading companies redeﬁned their jobs
into nominally gender-neutral categories of “comprehensive work” (the formerly menonly career track) and “general work” (the formerly women-only clerical track).
Women and men were in theory now eligible for both sorts of jobs. Small numbersof women began to enter the comprehensive track and seek private sector careerscomparable to those of men.

SOCIETY AND CULTURE IN THE EXUBERANT EIGHTIESIn the era of postwar growth and recovery, millions of Japanese people had understoodtheir efforts as part of a purposeful drive for national economic power and a better

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life for themselves and their families. By the afﬂuent 1980s, a rather different spirit
reigned. Young people and city-dwellers in particular launched into a frenzy of getting
and spending. Single young women emerged as a signiﬁcant force in the consumer
economy. They typically worked in dead-end, modestly paid jobs as “ofﬁce ladies”(abbreviated with a slight pejorative sense as OL), but they often lived rent-free athome. The media described the lives of these women with the same mixture of exu­
berance and scorn that characterized treatment of the “modern girl” of the 1920s. The“ofﬁce ladies” of the 1980s enjoyed signiﬁcant disposable income. In their free timethey crowded the stores of the major cities in search of the latest fashions. With theirboyfriends they searched out gourmet restaurants, which competed to offer exotic andextravagant choices, even sushi wrapped in gold leaf. They snapped up the latest
gadgets of consumer electronics, from fax machines to Walkmans.
Together with people of all ages, they traveled overseas in record numbers. In
1965, only three hundred thousand Japanese had traveled abroad. The majority went
on business trips. By 1980, the Japanese took as many as three million trips abroad
annually. The number shot up to ten million by the end of the decade.15 The great
majority were now leisure travelers. Roughly 40 percent were women, young and old.
Group package tours remained popular, but increased numbers ventured off on theirown. Trips were short, averaging just eight days and reﬂecting the stingy vacation
policies of most employers. But Japanese tourists were welcomed by merchants andhotels around the world for their generous spending. Japanese language ability becamea job requirement in tourist shops in Hawaii and throughout Asia. By 1990, total
outlays on foreign travel exceeded $20 billion per year.
The generation reaching middle age in the 1980s had come of age in a time ofintense political turbulence and astonishing economic transformation. Its members felt
some discomfort at these trends. They, too, might travel abroad and ﬁll their homes
with bigger refrigerators and more powerful air conditioners. But they feared theirchildren lacked their own core of serious commitment. They labeled the youth shin­jinrui, a term that can be translated as “new species” or even “aliens.” An oft-cited
example of “alien” behavior was the shocking decision of a young company man toreject an overtime assignment in favor of a date with his girlfriend. A related newlabel of the 1980s was furiitaa, roughly drawn from a German-English hybrid of “freearbeiter.” It referred to phenomenon of young men, in particular, who rejected secure
corporate jobs on the career track for the freedom of freelance, temporary assignments,
which were abundantly available.
The behavior of the older generation, at its extreme, could not have been moredifferent. One much-noted symbol of the pathology of workaholic, middle-age men,also a newly popularized word of the 1980s, was karōshi. It literally meant “deathfrom overwork.” The term was coined to describe cases where a man (invariably),with no particular history of disease, died suddenly of a heart attack or stroke, at atime when he was spending extraordinary, stressful hours—perhaps one hundred ormore per week—at work. Social activists set up a “karōshi hotline” to offer legal
advice to the families of victims, or those who feared themselves at risk. In 1987 thegovernment liberalized its deﬁnition of occupational disease to open the way for sur­vivors to put in claims for compensation. Based on calls to their hotline, activists

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At the peak of the economic boom of the late 1980s (December 1989 in this photo), young“ofﬁce ladies” and their male counterparts (who enjoyed no such catchy label) line up at thecounter of a government ofﬁce in Tokyo to pick up passports for overseas travel during theupcoming holiday season.

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Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

Aryaestimated that the number of cases reached ﬁve hundred annually between 1988 and1990. Only a handful were ofﬁcially recognized by the Ministry of Labor for com­pensation: twenty-one cases in 1987, twenty-nine cases in 1988, and thirty in 1989.16
Beyond such extreme incidents and despite the ﬂourishing of an “alien” youth
culture, it was undeniable that Japanese people continued to work long and hard. Much
overtime in Japan went unreported because of the pressure on employees to offer what
people called “service overtime” to the ﬁrm. Ofﬁcial statistics, therefore, underesti­
mated work hours. But even the government numbers showed that the average annual
hours on the job increased from the late 1970s through the 1980s. By 1990 Japaneseemployees were working about twenty-two hundred hours per year. While the South
Koreans outpaced them by a wide margin, this represented a roughly 10 percent mar­gin over U.S. workers and an average of nearly 30 percent (roughly twelve weeks peryear) more time on the job than Western Europeans.
Foreigners upset at record Japanese trade surpluses responded to such numberswith criticism and self-interested sympathy. “The Japanese work too hard,” they said,
and that must be the reason for their competitive advantage.17 At home, some critics
echoed these voices with calls for companies to lighten up on their demands. Others

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reacted with defensive pride. “What’s wrong with hard work?” they asked. They turned
the tables and accused Westerners of being lazy and complacent. For example, in 1992
the speaker of the lower house of the Japanese Diet, Sakurauchi Yoshio, claimed that“the source of the [trade] problem is the inferior quality of U.S. labor. . . . U.S. workers
are too lazy. They want high pay without working.”18 Such rhetoric, roundly critizedabroad, ironically brought to mind older Euro-American views of indolent coloniallabor.
A similar division between criticism and celebration marked views of mass cul­ture. Japanese intellectuals and social critics argued over the meaning of greater het­
erogeneity in a society increasingly divided into “micro-masses.” These were identiﬁedin the 1980s as fragmented subsets of the larger society, now freed by afﬂuence anda more ﬂexible marketing and manufacturing system to pursue their own special in­terests and hobbies. The publishing industry launched hundreds of specialized weekly
and monthly magazines catering to particular age groups and diversiﬁed tastes. Critics
called this diversiﬁcation superﬁcial. The masses were simply “working like mad” tostay in place, pursuing the same mindless race for the latest and the newest, in thefalse belief that small differences mattered.19 For some conservatives, despite evidence
the employees worked extremely long hours by international standards, the consum­
erism that came with afﬂuence signaled the hollowing out of the work ethic that hadbuilt postwar Japan into a world power. For some progressives, the materialistic pop­
ulation had turned lamentably apolitical and self-centered.
Not everyone agreed with this criticism. One leading intellectual, Tsurumi Shun­suke, argued that ordinary Japanese maintained a healthy balance between too muchwork and excessive play. They ridiculed “gung-ho company men” or “neurotic edu­
cation mamas” who “put out stupendous effort to achieve high status.” He praised
them for a “strong belief that leading an average lifestyle and livelihood is sufﬁcient.”20
Perhaps the most important contrarian thinker who embraced the social changes of
the 1980s was Yoshimoto Takaaki. Echoing his position from the 1960 debate with
Maruyama over the security treaty crisis, he and others took delight in a more playful,private, and often iconoclastic spirit of youth in particular, and mass culture moregenerally. They viewed this as the liberation of the subjective desires of ordinary
people who might transcend simple materialism. They noted that advertisers, insteadof preaching the practical virtues of particular products or even companies, createdalluring images with no apparent link to the sponsor. Their writings were part of adebate in Japan over the character of a “postmodern” society and culture that paralleledsimilar debates in other advanced capitalist societies.21
Advertising images helped redeﬁne the physical landscape of Japan in one im­portant way. As agricultural employment fell below 10 percent of the work force by
1985, the steady transformation of rural Japan into a suburban space continued apace.
But the advertising industry joined forces with the tourist and transportation industries
to reverse this homogenizing trend of the high-growth era. They transformed rural
Japan into a nostalgic homeland of the entire nation. In a famous advertising campaignof the 1970s, the populace was urged to “discover Japan” by riding the trains to thecountryside. In the 1980s, the distance between modern cities and “traditional” villages
was increased with a follow-up campaign extolling the charm of travel to “Exotic

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Japan.” With tax revenues swollen by the booming economy, dozens of prefectures,
towns, and villages joined private developers in a rush to build not only golf courses
but also museums and theme parks designed to bring tourists back “home.”22
A second reversal of the homogenizing social trends of the high-growth decades
took place in the realm of education. In the 1970s and 1980s, the impressive egali­tarianism of the merit-based system of entrance exams for high school and college
eroded dramatically. This was in part an ironic result of the refusal of public schools
to simply and single-mindedly teach testing skills. Parents and children respondedwith an eager search for any advantage in the competition to win places in top schools.
The private sector responded to meet their needs. Afterschool “cram schools” prolif­
erated, in major cities especially. Ambitious high school students took four or ﬁvehours of afterschool classes to hone their test-taking skills, coming home exhausted
at 9 or 10 p.m., only to face homework for their regular daytime classes. In addition,
private high schools and even some private middle and elementary feeder schools
developed justiﬁed reputations for placing graduates in leading national and private
universities. Cram schools then emerged that specialized in paving the way to get into
these private schools. Parental wealth conferred considerable advantage on the race to
get ahead. The proportion of students from wealthy homes in top-ranked universities
rose sharply.
Other troubling social trends included a rise in reports of brutal forms of bullying
among schoolchildren. Pundits feared students were taking out their frustration at thestress of the exam race upon weaker classmates. And as real estate prices surged in
the early 1980s, the difference in wealth between those with property and those with­out began to widen sharply.
But for most of the 1980s, problems such as the spreading gap between havesand have-nots appeared to most people in Japan as manageable, minor blemishes. As
measured in opinion polls and falling voting rates, the populace of an ever more
afﬂuent nation was increasingly apolitical and complacent. As the economy continued
to outperform its advanced capitalist competitors in North America and Western Eu­
rope between 1985 and 1990, the ﬁnancial as well as productive power of Japanese
corporations reached dizzying heights.
Complacency soon gave way to arrogance. Stock values soared, and private in­dividuals joined the speculative action. They coined the term zai-tekku (ﬁnancial tech­nique), a play on the well-known hai-tekku (high-tech). By the end of 1989, the Nikkei
stock index had tripled in just three years. Companies listed on the Tokyo stock
exchange accounted for more than 40 percent of the total value of the entire world’s
stock markets. Land prices had doubled in the early 1980s. A few years later they
doubled again, and tripled in some spots. Organized crime syndicates jumped into theland speculation business, sometimes strong-arming residents into selling them prop­
erty that they could quickly resell for huge proﬁts. By 1989 the aggregate value ofreal estate in Tokyo exceeded that of the entire United States by some accounts.
Japanese investors bid up the market for European art to unprecedented levels. The
French impressionists were a particular favorite. One businessman purchased two
paintings, a Van Gogh and a Renoir, for the astonishing sum of $160 million.
Such excesses were not limited to youngsters, gangsters, or eccentric business­men. Some of the sober great names in banking, such as Sumitomo and Fuji, jumped

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into ﬂimsy ventures in truly reckless ways. In one notorious case, the Industrial Bankof Japan—the bluest of Japanese blue-chip banks, which had played a central role inﬁnancing the 1950s–1960s economic miracle—lent two billion dollars to a woman
who ran a small chain of Osaka restaurants frequented by gangsters and their girl­friends. She used the money in stock speculation, guided by seances with a fortune
teller. Her collateral turned out to be sloppily forged certiﬁcates of deposit from a
local credit agency. In retrospect it is easy to see that these trends were combining tocreate a dangerous, unsustainable speculative bubble. But at the time, many people
assumed that good times had come to stay.
Was this history from postwar recovery through undreamt wealth the story of amiracle and model? Was it the tale of the emergence of a threatening global monster?
Or did it represent a sad loss of virtue and the erosion of traditional values? All theseviews were expressed, both in Japan and around the world. Underlying them all was
the misleading notion that Japan was a place of remarkable, even unique, difference.
We might better see experiences in Japan as fascinating but less exceptional. They
were variants on an increasingly global theme of coming to grips with modernity andafﬂuence.

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Beyond the Postwar Era

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The logic for dividing Japanese as well as global time around 1990 is compelling.
The Berlin Wall came down in 1989 and the two Germanies were united in 1990. The
Soviet empire disintegrated in 1989, and the Soviet Union itself collapsed in 1991. In
Japan, the Shōwa emperor died on the eve of this season of European revolution, in
January 1989. In July, the LDP suffered a crushing defeat in the upper house Diet
election. The party lost its majority in that chamber for the ﬁrst time since it was
founded. In 1990, the speculative bubble of the 1980s burst in spectacular fashion,
inaugurating over a decade of economic stagnation. Both the global context and thedomestic spirit of the 1990s differed markedly from the 1980s.

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THE END OF SHŌWA AND THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE
SYMBOL MONARCHY

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In September 1987, Emperor Hirohito underwent surgery to treat a swollen pancreas.
In September 1988, he collapsed with internal bleeding. Widespread rumors that he
was in fact suffering from cancer proved correct, although this was not conﬁrmed by
the government until after his death. The people of Japan were drawn into a lingering
death watch through four excruciating months of hemorrhage and transfusions. The
emperor died on January 7, 1989, and the Shōwa era was over. It had been the longest
single reign in the history of the monarchy. The government immediately announced
the new reign name of Heisei (literally, “attaining peace”). Hirohito’s son, Crown
Prince Akihito, ofﬁcially took the throne on November 12, 1990.
The death of the emperor revealed some important continuities in the place of
the imperial institution in Japan. During his months of decline, the major newspapers
printed daily reports of the emperor’s vital signs and bodily traumas: temperature andpulse and incidents of vomiting blood, rectal bleeding, and transfusion. Despite thecoverup of the fact of cancer, this was a strangely invasive public spectacle of thedeath of a monarch whose private acts, thoughts, and physical condition were almost
completely hidden from view for his entire life. Violating imperial privacy in this way
was not a democratic innovation of postwar times; the practice of presenting theemperor’s medical condition to the nation was a modern tradition invented at the timeof the Emperor Meiji’s death in 1912. Government ofﬁcials who released this infor­
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mation sought to solidify an intimate link between their modern monarchs and the
populace by bringing the emperors before the people in this extraordinary way at theclose of their lives.
Calling for “self-restraint” because an emperor lay dying was another invented
Meiji tradition revived in 1988. Ofﬁcials urged people “voluntarily” to restrain every­
day activities of celebration during the emperor’s long ﬁnal illness. The literary scholar
Norma Field has written eloquently of this atmosphere of “coercive consensus.”
Neighborhood festivals and school ﬁeld days were canceled. Happy slogans weredeleted from television commercials. Field also describes the still-powerful taboo on
criticizing the emperor for his wartime role. As the emperor lay dying in December,the mayor of Nagasaki explained that he believed “the emperor bears responsibility
for the war.” This was not a new or unusual opinion. But imperial defenders con­demned Mayor Motoshima with unusual virulence. In a throwback to the oppressive
politics of the 1930s, the mayor was shot in a failed assassination attempt in 1990.1
Alongside continuities, one ﬁnds important differences in the response to thismonarch’s death compared to the time of his father or grandfather. Citizens were free
to ignore the spectacle. When television programming turned full time to coverage ofthe emperor’s funeral, people emptied the shelves of video rental shops in search ofsomething else to watch. Some also criticized the excesses of the government-enforced“self-restraint.” Others protested state funding of the funeral because it included reli­gious elements. The Nagasaki Citizens’ Committee to Seek Free Speech strongly de­fended their mayor. The committee prepared a petition calling for an end to taboos inpolitical discussion of the monarch. In a few months nearly four hundred thousandpeople signed it.2 Such acts would have been unimaginable before the war.
The accession ceremony of the new Heisei emperor in November 1990 provokeda replay of the controversy over the proper boundary to government support of im­perial ceremonies of religious character. State ofﬁcials and conservative intellectuals
took an expansive view of what the government might do to mark imperial rites of
passage. Liberals and leftists, who feared any hint of a renewed link between the state
and the Shinto religion, pushed for a narrow role. The new emperor himself pledged
to respect the limited symbolic role deﬁned for the monarch in the postwar constitu­
tion. Opinion polls showed that a vast majority of the population supported the em­
peror as a symbolic monarch, no more or less. Most seemed little concerned with thedetails of who paid for which ceremony.
Three years later another major imperial spectacle took place. In June 1993 Em­
peror Akihito’s eldest son, Crown Prince Naruhito, followed in his father’s footsteps
and married outside the narrow circle of the court aristocracy. His bride was Owada
Masako, the daughter of a top-ranked diplomat. The prince had courted her for nearlyseven years. She was remarkable for her elite education on three continents: an un­dergraduate degree from Harvard and graduate studies at Oxford and at Tokyo Uni­
versity. She was equally unusual, as an imperial bride, for her career path. Until her
engagement, she had worked for seven years as a young diplomat in the Foreign
Ministry.
The massive media coverage of the wedding, and the delight of many that Prince
Naruhito was ﬁnally to marry at age thirty-three, made it clear that the fate of themonarchy remained a matter of great public interest. But the public response intri­

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guingly combined detachment and celebrity worship. Many young women lamented
what they called the “waste” of a woman giving up an exceptional career, even forthis marriage. Others worried over the impact of the conﬁning palace life on theprincess-to-be. For this somewhat dubious public, the media scripted the “royal wed­
ding” as a Disneyesque Cinderella story. But the elaborate wedding festivities drewless intense interest than the 1959 wedding of the Emperor Akihito to Shōda Michiko.
The shift of the throne from object of awe to celebrity was also evident at the
decade’s end. In November 1999 the government sponsored an elaborate festival tocelebrate the tenth anniversary of the enthronement of the Heisei emperor. Many of
the young people in the crowd confessed they had come primarily to hear the per­formances of big-name rock stars.3
At the start of the second decade of Heisei, and the ﬁrst of the new millennium,
the imperial institution faced an intriguing dilemma. The Crown Prince and Princess
remained childless for the ﬁrst eight years of their marriage. But in December 2001,
after a miscarriage two years earlier, the princess gave birth to a baby girl. The
imperial household law limited succession to men, and since the prince’s brother also
had two daughters, there were no male heirs in the new generation. One logical so­lution would be to open the throne to women. Precedent could be found in the To­
kugawa era and much earlier, when a total of ten women held the throne, eight in the
500s through 700s, two in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Meiji governmentofﬁcials had seriously considered allowing female emperors when they wrote the con­stitution in the 1880s. Under the 1947 constitution, the Diet held the power to change
the succession law. The birth of the imperial granddaughter in 2001 revealed that thethrone remained a lightning rod for the hopes and fears of conservatives and reformers
alike. Politicians and ordinary citizens weighed in with their views; some “tradition­
alists” objected, but the majority opinion, including that of key leaders in the LDP,
favored revising the law to allow female emperors, and a change seemed likely. The
throne no longer commanded fear and awe as before and during the war, but its future
was a matter of great interest to most people.

THE END OF LDP HEGEMONY
The end of Shōwa marked the beginning of the end of the Liberal Democratic Party’s
long hegemony. Its powerful boss, Tanaka Kakuei, suffered a stroke in 1985 that
effectively removed him from power. He died in 1993. Following the stroke, his top
lieutenants continued to control the party, but their own rivalries caused turmoil. In
addition, two major scandals weakened the party: the Recruit affair in 1989 and the
Sagawa scandal in 1992. Perhaps most important, the end of the Cold War removed
the external pressure that had forced the LDP to remain united despite long-standing
factional rivalries.
The ﬁrst major blows came in 1988–89. Prime Minister Takeshita and his allies
drew sharp criticism for accepting favors from the Recruit corporation. In addition,
Takeshita was hurt when he made an unpopular commitment to ﬁscal prudence. In
December 1988 he and the Ministry of Finance had followed up on Prime Minister
Nakasone’s efforts to lower the growing burden of public debt by enacting a new
consumption tax. He upset farmers by acceding to foreign pressure and allowing mod­

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estly expanded food imports. By May 1989 Takeshita’s public approval rating was a
microscopic 4 percent, the lowest in Japan’s history. He resigned in disgrace.
His successor, Uno Sōsuke, faced a difﬁcult battle in the House of Councillors(upper house) election scheduled for July. The 252 councillors serve six-year terms,
and one half of them stand for reelection every three years. The LDP entered thecontest with a bare majority. Uno’s troubles were compounded with the revelationthat he had for years kept a mistress. Even worse in the eyes of many, he had treated
her shabbily when he ended the relationship.
The triple punch of sex scandal, money scandal, and an unpopular new tax gave
an extraordinary boost to the opposition. In a fortunate coincidence, the Japan Socialist
Party in 1986 had elected a woman, Doi Takako, as its chairperson for the ﬁrst time.
She led the party to victory in what the media dubbed the “madonna boom.” Polls
showed a gender gap at the ballot box: Female voters objected to Uno’s behavior andthe consumption tax. Female candidates won 22 of the 126 seats at stake (twelve
women won seats from the JSP alone). The socialists won a total of 46 seats, comparedto just 36 for the LDP, which lost a majority in one house of the Diet for the ﬁrst
time ever.
Fortunately for the ruling party, under the postwar constitution the House of Coun­cillors is the weaker chamber of the Diet. Most importantly, it cannot veto a budgetthat is passed by the House of Representatives. As long as it maintained its majority
in that chamber, the LDP could stay in power. Over the following months the JSP
proved unable to turn its electoral success into an effective challenge to LDP policies.
In the general election of February 1990 the Liberal Democrats actually expanded
their majority in the House of Representatives (See Appendix B.)
The party took heart from this result and blithely ignored the warning signals of
its 1989 debacle. Kanemaru Shin, career politician and long-time follower of Tanaka
Kakuei, emerged as the new boss behind the scenes by taking charge of the Tanaka
faction. His faction controlled the votes needed to elect the LDP president, who thenbecame prime minister. Nicknamed “the Don,” Kanemaru was the puppeteer who
pulled the strings of the next two prime ministers, Kaifu Toshiki (1989–91) and Miya­zawa Kiichi (1991–93).
Miyazawa was the polar opposite of Kanemaru. He had been a career ﬁnanceministry ofﬁcial before entering politics. He was ﬂuent in English, with sophisticatedknowledge of global ﬁnance and politics. He detested the deal-making, moneyobsessed style of men like Kanemaru. But he followed the latter’s orders in mattersof policy and personnel in order to have his day in the sun as prime minister.
In 1992, the Sagawa Express scandal broke open, and Miyazawa’s outlook grewcloudy. This was far bigger than the Recruit affair. The Sagawa company chieftain
not only bought politicians with money to ensure favorable regulations for his industry
but also used underworld connections to support his political allies and intimidate
their opponents. Kanemaru was at the center of this dirty story. He met with crimefamily bosses to thank them for their help. He evaded taxes massively. Among othersins, he was discovered to have squirreled away one hundred kilograms of gold bars
in his luxury apartment in central Tokyo.
Kanemaru’s corruption was extreme, but shady practices had been part of theunderside of LDP rule for decades. With the end of the Cold War, LDP supporters

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were less reluctant to criticize their party, and the media was emboldened to attack
corrupt politicians. Kanemaru was forced to resign from the Diet late in 1992. Miya­zawa faced widespread calls to reform the electoral system to reduce the role of money
in politics. But he insisted that corrupt individuals caused problems, not a corrupt
system. His complacent party pushed for no signiﬁcant reform.
In the summer of 1993, the LDP castle ﬁnally crumbled. The opposition parties,
as they often did, proposed a vote of no-conﬁdence to protest the LDP failure to
propose credible reforms. Because the opposition lacked the votes to prevail, thisappeared to be a symbolic protest. But suddenly, a politician named Ozawa Ichirō
jumped on the reform bandwagon. Ozawa emerged as a key, if inconsistent, player inthe politics of the 1990s. Like Kanemaru, he was a Tanaka protégé. Younger than theDon, and impatient, he sought to seize his mentor’s mantle with a bold stroke. He
and his followers revolted by supporting the opposition’s no-conﬁdence measure. In
a dramatic turnabout, it passed. The Miyazawa cabinet was forced to resign and callan election.
The LDP fared poorly. It fell well short of a majority of the seats. Ozawa andhis group formed a new Japan Renewal Party, pledging reform of politics. They did
well. Another reformist party did even better. This was the Japan New Party, led by
Hosokawa Morihiro and founded the previous year. Hosokawa was an attractive po­litical leader. His background was elite: His paternal line stretched back to one of
Kyushu’s most powerful daimyō clans, while his maternal grandfather was the wartime
Prime Minister Konoe Fumimaro. But his style was open, and his rhetoric was po­
pulist. He won a substantial following with pledges to clean up the political process
and implement policies to favor ordinary citizens. In a wild scramble after this elec­tion, Ozawa’s Japan Renewal Party and Hosokawa’s Japan New Party joined with theolder opposition parties (the JSP and CGP) to cobble together the ﬁrst non-LDP
government since 1947. Ozawa built the coalition behind the scenes. Hosokawa served
as prime minister. Committed to reform, he still faced difﬁcult challenges in economics
and foreign policy, as well as political resistance from a still-powerful LDP.

THE ECONOMIC BUBBLE BURSTS
One factor behind the LDP’s fall from power was surely the end of Japan’s economic
glory days. The long stretch of world-beating economic growth ended as the 1990s
began. The ﬁrst sign of trouble was a stock market swoon. This resulted from a
conscious policy decision by the powerful bureaucrats in the Ministry of Finance. In
1985, with the Plaza Accord of the G-7 ministers, they had embarked on a program
to stimulate investment and domestic consumption. By the end of the decade, ﬁnanceofﬁcials decided the resulting surge in land and stock prices had reached dangerous
heights. They gradually tightened credit, hoping to curb speculative investment andgently deﬂate the bubble. From the fall of 1989 through the summer of 1990, they
enacted a series of increases that more than doubled borrowing rates from 2.5 to 6
percent. Investors took notice. The Nikkei index of the Tokyo stock exchange (com­parable to the Dow industrial average on Wall Street) fell by half, from a peak ofnearly forty thousand yen in December 1989 to twenty thousand by October 1990.4
Falling stock prices left speculators stranded, unable to repay their loans. The

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Osaka restauranteur-speculator noted in Chapter 16 was arrested for forging bank notes
in 1991. A steel trading company that had branched out into stock trading went bank­rupt. Higher interest rates likewise ruined dozens of real estate development schemes
because the developers’ estimated revenues could not cover the increase in new bor­
rowing costs. These failures sparked a drop in land prices, which eroded the value of
their land as loan collateral. Beginning in late 1990 with a huge golf course developer
called Itōman, one property company after another went bust. A vicious cycle offailures, further price drops, and more failures replaced the spiraling cycle of risingland and stock values. The bubble had burst.
Despite the crash to earth of stock and land speculators, the underlying economy
did not show immediate signs of trouble. The economic bureaucrats claimed to besqueezing out the excess without harming the core. Japan continued to run huge trade
surpluses, on the order of forty billion to ﬁfty billion dollars annually with the UnitedStates and twenty billion to thirty billion dollars with the European Union. In 1990
and 1991 Japan’s GNP continued to grow at a brisk 4 percent per year. Corporate
capital spending grew by 10 percent from 1990 to 1991. Industry seemed to be laying
a strong foundation for a future once more focused on production, rather than spec­
ulation. Pundits around the world joked that “the cold war is over, and Japan has
won.”
Trade negotiators from the United States and other G-7 states were not laughing.
They pushed Japanese ofﬁcials to open their domestic markets further. The so-called
Uraguay round of multilateral negotiations aimed to expand the General Agreement
on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) to eliminate almost all remaining global trade restric­
tions, tariffs, and state subsidies. Japanese farmers were among the most protected andsubsidized producers in the world. They and their political allies tried desperately tokeep domestic markets closed. But the new GATT agreement ﬁnally reached in late1993 committed Japan gradually to admit imports of rice and other farm goods.
Bilateral negotiations with the United States focused primarily on high-tech prod­
ucts. The Americans took a convenient view of the virtues of “free trade.” They praised
it with words, but they violated it with deeds by pushing Japan to set trade quotas.
Some of these took the form of ceilings on the export of cars or steel. In addition, in
1991 one of the most controversial agreements set a ﬂoor for a minimum acceptable
American share of Japan’s semiconductor market: no less than 20 percent by the endof 1992. Japanese negotiators, no less conveniently than their opposite numbers,
wrapped themselves in the rhetoric of free trade: They called the agreement merely a“target” at which private producers might aim. The Americans expected the Japanese
government to enforce sufﬁcient imports. The government denied that it intervened
directly, but the target was somehow reached by the promised date.
The United States also pressured Japan to play a more active role as a military
partner. The issue came to a head during the short Gulf War of 1991. The peace clauseof Japan’s constitution, as well as public opinion, ruled out sending troops to join themultinational expedition sent to resist the Iraqi occupation of Kuwait. As the Amer­
icans led the war with air raids and then an invasion to oust the Iraqis, they pushed
Japan to support the effort in some way. Eventually the Japanese government contrib­
uted thirteen billion dollars toward the cost of the war. Although this was the largest
donation of any nation outside the Persian Gulf area, the protracted process of316

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reaching this decision left a bad taste on all sides. Many Japanese felt underappre­
ciated. Many Americans felt the Japanese were selﬁsh for depending on Middle East­ern oil while leaving others to ﬁght to make sure the pipelines stayed open.
By the early 1990s, a pattern of American pressure met by Japanese resistance,then concession, had been deeply entrenched in both trade and military matters. Cynics
noted the weakness of the JSP or CGP in domestic politics and called the UnitedStates “Japan’s most powerful opposition party.” But as matters turned out throughthe rest of the decade, the United States–Japan economic relationship never broke
down into an open trade war. Despite numerous negotiations marred by angry threats
and counterthreats, the two sides settled most of their disputes without imposing re­taliatory tariffs or unilateral barriers. Ironically enough, the weakened Japanese econ­
omy and booming American one lowered the political volatility of chronic tensions.
After its initial collapse, Japan’s stock market rallied in 1991. But the next year
the collapse of the speculative stock market bubble spilled over into the rest of theeconomy. A recession began. Indices of industrial production, construction starts, andwholesale prices all started to fall. So did business and consumer conﬁdence. The
stock marked turned down once more; the Nikkei average fell to fourteen thousandby the summer of 1992. At this point Japanese authorities decided they had gone too
far with their tight money program. They started to lower interest rates to revive theeconomy. Borrowing rates fell to levels rarely seen in Japan or elsewhere. By 1995
favored borrowers could have funds at a mere 2 percent; bank deposits earned lessthan 0.5 percent per year. But banks were frightened by their many bad loans ofprevious years. More ominously, their weak balance sheets limited their ability tomake new loans even to solid customers. Investment stagnated. Industrial production
actually fell by 11 percent from 1991 through 1994. The GNP rose 1 percent in 1993
and was virtually ﬂat in 1994 (see Figure 17.1).
The Japanese economy faced a problem similar to the “savings and loan” crisis

ya

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5.0

Rate

4.0

Percent

3.0
2.0
1.0
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−1.0
−2.0
−3.0
−4.0

1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 1990 1991 1992 1993 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999

Figure 17.1

Real GNP Growth in Japan, 1983–99.

Source: Comparative Economic and Financial Statistics, Japan and Other Major Countries (Tokyo: International
Department, Bank of Japan, December, 2000).

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in the United States of the 1980s. Weak outside scrutiny had allowed banks to makecareless, risky loans to land developers in particular. Many banks were technicallyinsolvent. They were paralyzed by the inability to collect loans from failed venturesand by the collapse in value of land and stock held as collateral. As early as thesummer of 1992, top Japanese ofﬁcials saw the need for banks to clean the system
by dumping bad debts. They began planning for a government bailout, along the linesof the plan implemented in the United States by the Resolution Trust Company. Thisbody had used billions of taxpayer dollars to clean up the mess of bad debt of insolvent
savings and loan institutions in the United States. But to do something similar would
have required Japan’s bureaucrats, banks, and major corporations to openly admit their
mistakes. It would have meant the failure of some leading ﬁnancial institutions. The
government instead took only limited steps to address the banking crisis.
Weighted down by the debilitated ﬁnancial system, the economy staggered
through the ﬁrst half of the 1990s. The government hoped to restore some conﬁdence
and energy to consumers and the private sector. It turned to public works projects tostimulate business, allocating billions of dollars to construct dams and highways. To
help exports, it welcomed the cheapest yen in history, well under one hundred yen toa dollar in 1995. Signs of recovery did appear in 1995 and 1996. The strong American
economy and cheap yen boosted exports, at the cost of increased political tensions
over auto exports in particular. The GNP grew by 2 to 3 percent annually.
But recovery sat on a weak foundation. Although GNP increased, unemploymentrose. Prices continued to fall. Wage earners feared that corporate cost-cutting mightalso cost them their jobs, eliminate bonuses, or take away pay hikes. Consumer spend­
ing remained rather weak, rising just 3 percent annually in 1995 and 1996. Banks,
and nonbank lenders such as huge agricultural cooperatives, continued to carry mas­sive amounts of nonperforming assets that distorted their balance sheets. These weremainly loans to real estate developers that were not being repaid and were unlikely
to be recovered. It was impossible to trust the ofﬁcial statements of the extent of thebad loan problem because so many former regulators from the Ministry of Financeand other ministries sat in postretirement posts as directors of the suspect lenders. In
1995, some small banks failed, in an ominous sign that a larger problem remained.
The bad debt of the agricultural cooperatives alone was estimated to stand at ten
trillion yen (about one hundred billion dollars).
In this uncertain context, the government took a dangerous step in the name ofﬁscal prudence. Prime Minister Hashimoto Ryūtarō (1996–98) decided that increased
budget deﬁcits had to be controlled. Faced with an aging population and large futuresocial security costs, in the summer of 1997 he increased the consumption tax from
3 to 5 percent. This dampened the already shaky conﬁdence of consumers, slowed
their spending, and choked off the incipient recovery.
Over these years of inconsistent performance and policy, the attitude toward theJapanese economy changed profoundly both at home and abroad. Observers began to
identify deep structural problems and speak of systemic failure. Looking at the state,
they criticized excess intervention in the private economy and called for “loosened
regulation.” Looking at private ﬁrms, they coined a new English-based word for theirprescription, risutora. This meant “restructuring” by reducing the number of workers
and closing unproﬁtable ventures. But the banking crisis suggests that the heart of the318

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problem was a more complex mix of overprotection and insufﬁcient regulation thansimple slogans such as “loosened regulation” and “restructuring” implied.
The mid-1990s—and above all the year 1995—was also a time of declining
conﬁdence in the core institutions of the Japanese establishment. In January 1995 amajor earthquake struck the port city of Kobe and its environs. Nearly sixty-four
hundred people died and three hundred thousand lost their homes. Victims were heart­ened by the selﬂess work of thousands of volunteers—as many as twenty thousand
per day in the month after the quake and ﬁve hundred to one thousand daily for many
months to follow. But the evident lack of preparation on the part of national and local
ofﬁcials to respond to such a disaster—in a country where earthquakes are a familiar
menace—shook popular conﬁdence in the government.
Just two months later an act of terrorism on the Tokyo subway presented an evengreater shock to a population proud of its low crime rate, the safety of major cities,
and the efﬁciency of Japanese police in solving crimes. On a subway passing under
the heart of the government business district at the height of the morning rush houron March 20, 1995, members of a new religion called Aum Shinrikyō released small
portions of deadly poisonous sarin gas. The group had been founded in 1987 by alegally blind former yoga teacher named Asahara Shōko, who combined anger at his
own marginal background with a potent mix of self-styled “Eastern religious ideas”

Compounding the economic difﬁculties of the 1990s was the literal shock of the Kobe earth­quake of January 1995. Thousands of people lost their lives. The city’s major expressway
toppled in this dramatic manner.
Courtesy of Mainichi newspaper.

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and anti-Western rage. The group expanded rapidly through the early 1990s, claimingﬁfty thousand members by 1995 (although the numbers cannot be conﬁrmed andmight, in fact, have been declining at this point). The Aum terrorists, under the spellof their charismatic leader, were seeking to hasten the day of an expected apocalypsewith this act. Twelve passengers were killed and nearly ﬁfty-ﬁve hundred passengers
were injured in the attack. Aum had already been implicated in earlier instances of
suspicious deaths and disappearances. These facts, and the group’s ability to obtain
illegal arms and chemicals with ease, led to harsh criticism of the police authorities.
The attacks also provoked legal reforms designed to monitor religious organiza­
tions better. The Religious Corporations Law, which deﬁned the legal relationship ofreligions to the state and society, was revised to give the Ministry of Education in­creased power to collect ﬁnancial data on religions. Defenders of religious freedom
worried that civil liberties would be sacriﬁced for the sake of public safety, but thestep was relatively mild by international standards. The government in fact had gained
relatively little new authority to move against groups other than Aum itself. Even so,
legal changes in the wake of the gas attack did signal a shift in the basic assumption
behind laws concerning religion in Japan. They now assume that the state has a duty
to protect citizens from abuses by religious bodies, in contrast to the premise through­out the postwar era that the state was to be restrained from its potential to abusereligious freedom. It remains to be seen how this issue will be treated in practice.
Bureaucrats had generally kept a reputation for honesty through the scandals of
the previous decade, which had tainted politicians and businessmen with charges ofgreed and corruption. This bureaucratic prestige declined sharply in the 1990s becauseof a new series of scandals. Most notorious was the revelation in 1996 that the Welfare
Ministry had failed to ban the production of potentially lethal blood plasma productsin the early 1980s. At the time, AIDS had just been discovered. Researchers weremoving toward the conclusion that blood carried the disease and that to ensure purity
blood products should be heated before use in transfusions. For several years American
pharmaceutical corporations were the only producers of heated blood, and a Ministryof Welfare committee obstructed its import. Even after admitting imports of heatedblood, the ministry continued to allow use of domestic nonheated blood plasma. For
eighteen months, Japanese producers supplied hemophilia patients with unheated blood
despite the availability of a safer foreign product. By the late 1980s, twenty thousandpeople, or 40 percent of the hemophilia patients in Japan, had tested HIV positive.
Some of these victims were probably infected before heated blood was available. But
the behavior of the Ministry of Welfare raised the suspicion that bureaucrats anddoctors sacriﬁced public health simply to protect Japanese medical supply companies
from foreign competition.5
In 1996, a reformist politician, Kan Naoto, took over as minister of welfare. Kan
was an activist who had cut his teeth on anti–Vietnam War protests in the 1960s. In
1996 he was a leading member of a small reformist party (called New Party Sakigake)that was part of the governing coalition. He won public acclaim for bringing the
problem out in the open and admitting the government’s responsibility. The head of
the Green Cross Company, which had continued selling nonheated blood despiteknowing its risk, apologized to the public and the AIDS patients in dramatic fashion.

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In March 1996, seven years after the ﬁrst lawsuits were ﬁled against medical supply compa­
nies whose unheated blood products infected patients with the AIDS virus, HIV, the Green
Cross Company and three other defendants reached a settlement with the victims. Here, thepresident of the Green Cross Company and its directors bow their heads to the ﬂoor in apol­
ogy to the plaintiff victims. This and other scandals of the 1990s shook public conﬁdence ingovernment bureaucrats, who regulated private industry and normally enjoyed high respect,
as well as business leaders and politicians, who had often been the target of popularsuspicion.

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Arya

But the reputation of career bureaucrats had suffered a great blow. Over the following
years new revelations of illegal use of public funds by bureaucrats for lavish enter­tainment furthered eroded public respect for state ofﬁcials.

THE JAPANESE DISEASE AT CENTURY’S END?
In the face of economic stagnation and scandal, calls for reform reached a crescendoin the second half of the 1990s. At no time since the immediate postwar days was
the need for change so widely discussed. Predictions of collapse or transformationand prescriptions for “the third opening” of Japan—after the Meiji and postwar revolutions—became well-worn clichés. But it is worth remembering that the ﬁrst two
revolutions took place under the authoritarian governments of Meiji Japan and of
SCAP. In contrast, reforms of the democratic 1990s were anemic. Despite talk, no
political leaders came forward to create a consensus for reform or build the authority
to impose it.
Confusion in the political arena reﬂected and reinforced the lack of consensus.
One indication of the changed political climate was instability at the top. In the forty­

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four years from the founding of the LDP in 1955 through the upheavals of 1989,
twelve men served as prime minister for an average term of 3.7 years. Over the next
twelve years, from 1989 through 2000, ten men held the ofﬁce for an average tenureof just 1.2 years.
When the LDP gave way to a coalition cabinet in 1993, most observers predictedthat something close to a two-party system was about to emerge. They expected acoherent rival to the LDP would come together. Its likely members were the breakaway
reformers from the LDP such as Hosokawa and Ozawa, together with opposition
moderates in the CGP, the Democratic Socialists, and some in the Japan Socialist
Party. Although the old political map of left-right opposition indeed was redrawn
completely over the next several years, this expectation was not met, at least in the
short run. Instead, the LDP made a comeback.
The return of the LDP began most strangely. Hosokawa Morihiro resigned as
prime minister after only eight months in ofﬁce. The LDP had turned the tables byaccusing this champion of clean government of dubious ﬁnancial dealings. But the
deeper reason for Hosokawa’s quick fold was probably his fundamental distaste forthe daily grind of political battle. Hata Tsutomu took over at the helm of the coalition
government in April 1994. He was a reform-minded politician who had broken awayfrom the LDP together with Ozawa Ichirō in 1993. But he lasted just two months inofﬁce. By this time LDP attacks and efforts to win back some of its runaway members
had succeeded in undermining the tenuous unity of the new coalition.
In place of the anti-LDP coalition, in June 1994 the nation was treated to astunning spectacle: the LDP formed a coalition government with the Japan Socialist
Party, the largest opposition party and its long-standing ideological rival. What is more,
the LDP agreed that the JSP president, Murayama Tomiichi, would serve as prime
minister. This alliance was comparable, in American terms, to a situation in which a
Republican president would name a Democrat as vice president.
Two factors led these strange bedfellows to their marriage of political conve­
nience. The ﬁrst was pure pragmatism. The socialists saw the LDP invitation to joinhands as a last best chance to share power. The LDP, for its part, needed some op­
position ally in order to put together a parliamentary majority. Party leaders were soalienated from the turncoat Ozawa that they preferred to join with their once-despisedsocialist rivals. The second enabling factor was the changed climate of global anddomestic politics, the product of long secular shifts as well as dramatic recent events.
Election rhetoric aside, for some time, the LDP and JSP Diet members had beenworking together in parliament to draft and pass legislation. The majority of laws thatpassed the Diet from the 1960s onward in fact had been supported by both parties,
and this bipartisan parliamentary voting had become more frequent since the 1970s.
The increasingly cooperative relations of labor unions and corporations had for sometime dulled the edge of left-right antagonism. In addition, since the 1970s, the twoparties had frequently supported the same candidate in local elections. Finally, the endof the Cold War and the triumph of global capitalism eliminated much of the basis
for the mutual distrust of the two parties.
But even if the LDP-JSP alliance could be explained in this way, it remained
surprising and troubling to Japanese voters. Above all, it damaged the socialists. Peo­ple already viewed the LDP as a party of pragmatic deal-makers. LDP supporters

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expected political and economic favors more than ideological consistency. The JSP
electoral support, in contrast, rested to a large extent upon principle: defense of thepeace constitution, opposition to the United States–Japan military alliance, and distrustof cozy corporate ties to the state.
In exchange for joining the government, the JSP did win some reluctant LDP
concessions in the ideological realm. Prime Minister Murayama offered the most forth­right apologies on record for wartime atrocities such as the enslavement of “comfort
women.” The LDP on its own would have been less forthcoming. But the socialists
were nonetheless widely seen to have abandoned principle for the sake of power. In
short order, their political presence faded.
In January 1996, Prime Minister Murayama stepped down, ostensibly for personalreasons but facing strong pressure from his LDP allies. The prime minister’s job went
to Hashimoto Ryūtarō, an LDP stalwart and Tanaka loyalist. The LDP was clearly incharge of the government. The JSP remained in the ruling coalition as a weakened
junior partner. Another coalition member was the small New Party Sakigake, led byreform-minded politicians including Kan Naoto, who won acclaim for his ﬁght toexpose the tainted-blood scandal.
In the fall of 1996, with an election looming in the House of Representatives, a
shufﬂe of party alignment took place. The majority of the JSP, members of the New
Party Sakigake such as Kan, and remnants of Hosokawa’s New Party founded the
Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ). These politicians hoped to displace Ozawa Ichirō’sgroup as the major rival to the LDP. His breakway faction of the LDP had beenfounded in 1993 as the Japan Renewal Party and renamed the New Frontier Party one
year later. In the election that October, the DPJ did fairly well (52 seats), and Ozawa’s
group gained much support (156 seats). But the remnants of the JSP nearly evaporated.
It fell from 70 to 15 seats. Its long life as the major opposition force was effectively
over. The LDP made slight gains and came close to majority (239 of 500 seats).
After the election, Prime Minister Hashimoto managed to form the ﬁrst exclu­
sively LDP cabinet since 1993. The socialists left the coalition but agreed to support
the government issue by issue. For the rest of the decade, the Liberal Democrats ran
the government. Starting out just short of a majority, they formed a coalition withcentrist and conservative allies rather than the socialists or other reformers. In 1998
Ozawa’s political party broke in half. The splinter group joined the Democratic Party,
and those remaining with Ozawa renamed their group yet again, this time as the
Liberal Party. After ﬁve years of trying to build an opposition force, Ozawa now
turned back to his roots, and his Liberal Party joined the LDP in a coalition govern­
ment. In 1999 the CGP followed suit. Some Ozawa supporters rejoined the LDP
outright, giving it a sole lower house majority for the ﬁrst time in six years. On thesurface, Japanese politics apparently had returned to business as usual: The LDP wasin power, faced with a scattering of smaller parties in opposition.
But the LDP hegemony of the late 1990s was much weaker than that of the past.
Despite its growing strength in the House of Representatives, the party did quite poorly
in the 1998 House of Councillors house election. It ended up with an all-time low of
37 percent of the seats. Prime Minister Hashimoto’s decision to raise taxes was blamedby voters for throwing the economy back into recession. The ballot was seen as a
repudiation of his economic policy. He resigned, replaced by another LDP veteran,323

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Obuchi Keizō (1998–2000), who was initially ridiculed as a backroom political dealer“with all the pizzazz of cold pizza.”6 Obuchi presided with limited success over two
years of aggressive deﬁcit spending intended to revive the economy. In May 2000 hedied of a stroke, probably brought on by exhaustion. His successor, Mori Yoshihiro,
called a House of Representatives election in July 2000. The party suffered continued
blame for the still weak economy. It fared poorly, falling short of a sole majority inthe lower house once more. It continued in power only by virtue of its coalition with
Ozawa’s liberals and the CGP.
The Democratic Party did better than ever. It showed some potential to emerge
ﬁnally as a strong opposition party. But continued rule by a weakened LDP, faced bya divided opposition, seemed more likely as the twenty-ﬁrst century began. As in the
United States, huge numbers of voters simply failed to vote, distrustful of all theparties. Facing intense pressure to reign in government spending, the LDP lacked themeans to keep rewarding its traditional pork-barrel constituents. The Democrats, fortheir part, were sharply divided among themselves on key issues such as constitutional
revision or the place of the military in the United States–Japan alliance. A major partof the problem for all parties, and for the bureaucracy and business elites as well, wasa lack of consensus over how to revive the still stagnant economy. Reversing therhetoric of the 1970s and 1980s, critics at home and abroad spoke of “a Japanesedisease” marked by political paralysis in the face of major social and economic
problems.
In the spring of 2001, Prime Minister Mori’s approval rating fell to single-digit
levels, and he resigned under pressure from his party, whose members feared an elec­
toral disaster without some change in leadership. In a surprising outcome, a popular
LDP politician from slightly outside the party mainstream, Koizumi Junichirō, waselected as party president and prime minister in Mori’s place. He pledged dramaticchanges in economic policy above all, and he surprised people further by appointing
a record ﬁve women to his cabinet. But his promised harsh economic medicine threat­ened many key supporters of the LDP in rural Japan and top ﬁnancial institutions. He
faced major obstacles in the effort to impose his agenda of neoliberal reforms.
In addition to obvious economic problems of stagnant growth and a dysfunctional
ﬁnancial sector, as the decade and century ended Japanese politicians and the populace
at large faced major social issues centered on demography and education. The baby
bust of the 1980s continued unchecked through the ’90s. It was unaffected by a modest
new Welfare Ministry “baby bonus” offered to parents. The birthrate (the number ofchildren an average woman would bear in her lifetime) fell to 1.34 in 1999. Demog­
raphers projected that with no change in these numbers and no increased immigration,
the Japanese population would peak at 130 million in 2005 and fall to 55 million by
the year 2100.
Some pointed to the beneﬁts of population decline. Cities would be less crowded.
Better housing would be available. Increasingly valuable female employees (and, pre­sumably, their male counterparts) would be able to negotiate better conditions in theworkplace. And, of course, a smaller population would be more ecologically correct.7
It was unlikely that demographic trends would proceed so neatly in one direction
for a century, although it made sense to welcome a smaller population in the longrun. But in the short run, these demographic projections were unlikely to be wrong,

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and many observers feared the impending burdens of adjusting to a smaller, older
population. Fewer working people would lower social security revenues, while moreelderly would increase the system’s cost. Signiﬁcant tax increases, or major beneﬁt
reductions, appeared unavoidable. And even if a more productive future economy
brought relatively little net gain in employment, a falling population would bring ona labor shortage. A much publicized report of March 2000 predicted that Japan would
have to bring in roughly six hundred thousand immigrant workers per year, for theforeseeable future, simply to maintain its current work force size. Fear of alienating
voters by lowering beneﬁts, and fear of choking recovery by raising taxes, made it
politically difﬁcult to address the social security issue. Fear of foreigners made it
unlikely that Japan would soon become a major site of immigration.
Education and youth seemed to be in a chronic state of crisis as well in the 1990s.
A series of reports by the Ministry of Education and authoritative bodies such as theJapan Productivity Center called for basic reform of higher education. Universities
were widely condemned for lackluster teaching that failed to prepare young people tothink critically or adapt to a changing global environment. Secondary education was
criticized, as in the past, for excessive reliance upon rote learning. Experts and pundits
also expressed heightened fear that schools were failing to inculcate proper social
values. Abusive “bullying” and school phobia had been identiﬁed as social problems
since the 1980s. In the 1990s a series of sensational crimes made the schools appear
to be ever more volatile breeders of demented behavior. The fact that graduates of theengineering faculty of Tokyo University had been leaders in the Aum Shinrikyō organization and helped produce the poison gas shocked the public almost as much as
the gas attack itself. In 1997 a fourteen-year-old middle school student murdered aneleven-year-old boy for no apparent reason. He deposited the victim’s severed headin front of the murderer’s school. In 1999 several cases of murder or torture by teen­
agers made front page news. People speculated that the hothouse environment of
exam-centered education failed to impart any sense of morality to these youths.
Another notorious social issue of the 1990s was a new sort of youth prostitution,
euphemistically termed “assisted dating” or “paid dating.” Large numbers of teenage
women made themselves sexually available to adult men for substantial fees. Those
who studied the phenomenon were shocked to discover how “normal” most of thesegirls were. They were not poor. Their family lives were apparently calm. One critic
wrote of two ninth graders who occasionally engaged in prostitution while attending
an exclusive Christian girls’ school famous for high academic standards:
I would have been more comfortable if they had had bleached hair and rings in theirnoses and tongues. In fact, however, they were perfectly normal-looking young girls.
They wore blue skirts and blazers with white blouses.

Analysts blamed materialism and shallow family relationships for a crisis of the soulthat produced a widespread amorality. The result, they said, was “paid dating” for thesake of the cash to buy expensive clothes or simply to gain some attention andcompanionship.8
However troubling these social problems appeared over the decade, the combi­
nation of economic woes and a media eager for good stories probably conveyed to
the Japanese people an exaggerated impression of social decay. Gruesome crimes were325

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neither new nor unique to Japan. Critics made much of the “unprecedented” age ofthe Kobe schoolboy killer. But in fact, this was by no means the ﬁrst juvenile killer
in postwar history. In response to calls for stricter laws for juvenile crime, level-headed
lawyers pointed out that the incidence of violent crimes by youth was not increasing
dramatically. It had actually been greater in the 1950s and 1960s.9
Young people obsessed with cell phones sending email and music, ﬂaunting out­
landish fashions and hairstyles, were everywhere to be found in turn-of-the-century
Japan. But youths—such as the “modern girls” and “modern boys” of the 1920s—
who act differently from their parents (and upset them in the bargain) have beenpresent throughout Japan’s modern history. Taken as a whole, the youth of the 1990s
may actually have been as socially responsible as their elders. In the wake of the Kobe
earthquake, young people were prominent among the small army of volunteers who
assisted the victims. Volunteerism in general appeared on the rise in the late 1990s.
The government responded in 1998 with a new law to make it easier for citizens toorganize nonproﬁt organizations. For the vast majority, Japan at the start of a new
century remained a safe and livable society.
More than social ills, economic problems provided the major source of the widely
held sense that Japan faced a systemic crisis. The recovery of 1995–96 came to aquick halt. A prolonged recession began the following year. Real GDP fell 2 percent
from 1997 through 1998 and showed virtually zero growth in 1999 and 2000. Foreignobservers wrote of Japan as “the system that soured” and described the 1990s as a“lost decade.”10 Many observers at home were no less gloomy (see Figure 17.2).
To address Japan’s economic ills, the government took three important steps inthe late 1990s. First, in November 1996 Prime Minister Hashimoto announced a com­prehensive program to deregulate ﬁnancial markets, dubbed the “big bang.” The as­
sumption was that Japan’s industry and technological progress were being obstructedby an inefﬁcient ﬁnancial system. Hashimoto’s plan echoed similar programs imple­
mented in the United States and Britain. It sought to ease complex regulations that
hampered the banking, insurance, and securities industries.
Step two came in the fall of 1998, when the Diet passed the Financial Revitali­zation Law. This act created a Financial Reconstruction Commission (FRC) with amandate to rebuild a banking system overwhelmed with bad debt. It was modeled on
the American Resolution Trust Corporation of the 1980s. The FRC used public funds
to take over insolvent banks and liquidate their bad debt. The Democratic Party, en­ergized by its summer election victory, played a signiﬁcant role in negotiating with
the LDP to draft the bill. This was a sign of the potential for a competitive party
system to shape government policy. The law held promise of ﬁnally setting the banking
system on a sound footing, although this would depend on the willingness of thecommission directors to make aggressive use of their authority. For several years,
authorities in fact remained reluctant to act. By 2001, the levels of bad debt held bymajor banks had scarcely diminished; by some accounts, debt had actually increased.
The third key state response to recession was a binge of deﬁcit spending aimed
at jump-starting the stagnant domestic economy. From 1997 to 2000, the government
ran annual deﬁcits of more than 8 percent of GDP. This spending prevented an evendeeper recession, and by 2000, signs of an economic revival had appeared. Japan’s“new economy” of high-tech and some manufacturing industries was growing briskly.

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Japan

Real GDP Growth of Major Economies, 1999

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But the “old economy” sectors such as agriculture, transportation, retail sales, andheavy industries remained in decline, and domestic demand remained fairly weak.
Electronic equipment companies, for example, saw labor productivity soar nearly 20
percent in 1999, while most other sectors experienced ﬂat or declining efﬁciency. The
gap between old and new economy sectors was deep.
Moreover, repeated ﬁscal deﬁcits had piled up an extraordinary mountain of pub­lic debt. By the end of 2000 the sum of accumulated central and local government
debt had surpassed 140 percent of GDP. No major economy had run such a proportionof debt for forty years. At the same time, the social security system was running achronic deﬁcit. It required major government transfers from general revenues to stayaﬂoat. This cost would increase as the proportion of elderly continued to rise.
As the twenty-ﬁrst century began, the government faced some very tough choices.
It might take the politically tempting but economically risky step of encouraging
moderate inﬂation. This would reduce the real burden of accumulated debt, as longas inﬂation did not spin out of control. It might also take the politically perilous stepsof reducing expenditures, raising taxes, and restructuring the social security system.
The prospect of continued stagnation and further banking crisis was real. And some­thing like a public sector debt crisis loomed as an ominous possibility.11
While politicians pondered their options, the private sector faced great pressure
to change as well. With the Japanese economy continuing to ﬂounder, and the Amer­

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ican economy continuing to grow smartly, at least through 2000, the rhetoric of the
1980s turned on its head. Observers no longer urged the United States, Europe, or the
rest of the world to learn from Japan. Pundits in Japan and on Wall Street, in particular,rather urged Japan to adopt the so-called Anglo-American model. Managers were toldthat the shareholder should be king and that workers should be dismissed quickly
when proﬁts declined. Government was implored to limit regulations and enforce
transparency and competition. The Japanese system had long taken a different ap­
proach. It stressed managerial autonomy rather than shareholder sovereignty. Personnel
management was organization-oriented more than market-oriented. Rules were opaqueand often informal. State regulation and guidance of the economy were extensive. Of
course, Japan’s economy had prospered grandly for forty years with these practices.12
As the twenty-ﬁrst century began, despite a decade of weak performance andseveral years of pressure to reform, Japan’s economic institutions had changed justmodestly in the direction prescribed by free market reformers. Managers continued
some moves toward greater ﬂexibility, but these had been underway since the 1970s.
Companies were relying more on temporary, part-time, and contract workers. As of
1999 more than one-quarter of all employees fell into these categories.13 Corporations
also continued to increase the proportion of employee pay that was linked to perfor­
mance and to reduce the weight of seniority in setting pay and giving promotions.
But as hundreds of major ﬁrms announced plans to “restructure” themselves in
the late 1990s, the lack of change was more impressive than any managerial or labormarket revolution. Headlines blared news of plans to “reduce the work force at Com­pany X by 20 percent” or “cut three thousand jobs at Company Y.” But the ﬁne print
revealed that such cuts would be spread out over three to ﬁve years and would rely
mainly on attrition and early retirement. In fact, of all those who left their jobs from1993 through 1997, the vast majority retired or left of their own choice. Only 8 percent
were “dismissed at the employer’s convenience.” This was lower than the level ofinvoluntary dismissals during the oil-crisis recession of 1975.14 Young workers moved
around more than in the past, but Japan was unlikely to soon become a society of
job-hoppers. A majority of companies in 2000 still set age limits on new hiring, apractice that was legal in Japan. Most would not look at a candidate older than forty.15
The move toward shareholder sovereignty was also limited. Observers in 2000
made much of the creation of new institutions to raise capital for young companies,
such as NASDAQ Japan and the “Mothers” offshoot of the Tokyo stock exchange.
But listings were limited. These exchanges did not grow quickly. Japanese businesses
did not abandon wholesale the long-established practice of “cross-shareholding,” bywhich allied companies held each other’s shares through thick and thin to limit thecontrol of outsiders. Despite extensive talk of the need for companies to emphasize
return on equity, businesses were not giving dramatically more priority than in thepast to shareholder dividends, as opposed to stabilizing employment or investing inresearch and development.16
Was the persistence of these practices of Japanese-style capitalism a sign of astructural paralysis in which entrenched interests prevented needed change? Such aharsh view seems partly justiﬁed. The government may well have manipulated statis­
tical data on growth rates in the domestic economy in 1999–2000 to protect itself and328

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build public conﬁdence. Authorities surely downplayed the extent of the bad debt
problem throughout the 1990s to help out leading banks and their customers. And it
was a remarkable fact, given Japanese levels of education and popular interest in newtechnology, that in 2000 Japan ranked no better than thirteenth among industrialized
nations in citizen access to the Internet. Only 21 percent of the population lived in“wired” households.17 The major reason for this lag was probably the high cost ofservice, a result of the monopolistic structure of Japan’s telecommunications system.
The Japanese government appeared reluctant to change regulations that might allow
domestic and foreign competitors to challenge the domination of the recently priva­
tized giant NTT.
But the full picture was more complex. Practices and institutions under attack at
the turn of the century had been lauded just a few years before as the secret to Japanesesuccess. These included both long-term employment relations and the ability of man­agers to make costly investments on behalf of long-term growth, without constantpressure to satisfy the quarterly shareholder demand for proﬁts. It is hard to imagine
that practices that valued accumulated experience and long-term vision were in them­selves impediments to success in the information-intensive economy of the twentyﬁrst century. Japan’s economic woes of the 1990s might have been above all the resultof a series of disastrous macroeconomic policy decisions rather than the product of afundamental systemic failure.

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As the new century began, a variety of social, cultural, and international issues faced
people in Japan, as around the world. For one, diversity in gender roles was greaterthan ever in the past, although the question of proper and acceptable roles for men
and women remained contentious. Feminist writings reached wider audiences than in
the past, in both the popular press as well as in academic circles. In the home, thedivorce rate reached record levels, standing even with levels in France and Germany,
although it was roughly half that of the United States. Some viewed more divorce asa sign of social breakdown. Others saw it a sign that women had been empowered.
Divorces rose sharply among older couples. It is likely that legal changes making iteasier for women to claim a share of property in divorce settlements encouraged thistrend.18
In the schools, the year 1994 marked something of a turning point. The study ofhome economics was made compulsory for boys as well as girls. But in 1997 theMinistry of Education revealed its unease at the prospect of a more pluralistic viewof family life when it censored the ﬁrst textbooks prepared for co-ed home economics
classes. The books had not, in the ministry’s view, made it clear that heterosexual
two-parent households were the preferable and proper structure for contemporary
families.19
At work, opponents of sexual discrimination and harassment were less often rid­
iculed as cranky troublemakers, as they once had been. In a 1996 decision, the Tokyo
District court awarded thirteen veteran female bank workers a total of nearly one
million dollars to compensate for the “clear and extreme differences in promotions formen and women.” The court concluded clearly, “The bank’s personnel policies are329

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deﬁnitely not permissible under current law.”20 A strong sign that the public now tooksexual harassment seriously came in 1999. A young female campaign worker charged
the well-known governor of Osaka, a former comedian named Yokoyama Knock, withmaking unwelcome advances as they were riding to attend a political engagement.
The public was unwilling to laugh this off. Yokoyama admitted the charges and re­signed his position. A criminal trial followed, and he was found guilty, sentenced toeighteen months in prison with a suspended sentence.
The Japanese government in the 1990s came to support a measure of increased
gender equality. In 1995 the Diet passed a government bill to strengthen the Equal
Employment Opportunity Law. It also created the Council for Gender Equality, oneof whose members was a leading feminist scholar in the social policy ﬁeld. In 1996
Prime Minister Hashimoto encouraged the council to draft the Basic Law for a GenderEqual Society. This measure passed the Diet in 1999. The law offered a generalcommitment to enact measures that would enable men and women to participate as
equals throughout society. Even some conservative leaders had come to think thatgender equality, and fuller female participation in the work force, might be econom­
ically beneﬁcial in a time of falling birthrates that were projected to lead to a labor
shortage. But the belief remained powerful among many in the political and businesselite that women should act mainly as good wives and mothers, while men should
devote themselves to working to support their family. There was no guarantee thatsigniﬁcant new policies would follow to give greater substance to the vision of agender-equal society.21
A second issue for the future was the place of foreigners in Japanese society.
During the labor-short boom years of the 1980s, the government opened the doorslightly to immigration. A major revision of the immigrant law in 1990 allowed ethnic
Japanese a preferential right to return from overseas. Thousands of Brazilian Japanese,in particular, took up the offer. Other foreigners came to Japan illegally in search ofopportunities they could not ﬁnd in their home countries of Iran, Bangladesh, China,
and elsewhere in Asia. The migrant workers took jobs that native Japanese were now
unwilling to perform, in particular manual labor dubbed “three-K” work: dangerous(kiken), dirty (kitanai), and difﬁcult (kitsui). By the mid-1990s, authorities counted
over 1.6 million foreign residents, legal and illegal, in Japan. The long-establishedcommunities of Korean and Chinese residents accounted for no more than six hundred
thousand of this total. The majority, roughly one million, were relatively recent im­
migrants or visitors.
Even as the economy sagged throughout the 1990s and early 2000s, the numberof immigrants continued to increase. Important questions remained. Would legal for­eign residents, especially those with high skills and education, be given equality in
job opportunities? One site of controversy was the school system, where foreign uni­
versity professors complained of discriminatory treatment.22 How generous would thegovernment be in extending public services such as schooling and medical care toshort-term migrants?
Media watchers criticized the tendency of the press to run negative stories thatlinked foreigners to crime. In April 2000 the nationalistic Tokyo governor Ishihara
Shintarō offered a startling statement of fear of foreigners. In a speech to the Self
Defense Forces, he told the troops to be ready to play a greater role in maintaining

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law and order within Japan because increased numbers of foreigners were committing
crimes. He revived an early postwar term for Koreans in Japan and noted that in theevent of a natural disaster such as an earthquake, “third-country people” might takeadvantage of the confusion to loot or harm Japanese people.23 The echoes here of arhetoric that tolerated the massacre of thousands of Koreans in just this circumstancein 1923 were unmistakable. In the controversy that followed, majority opinion roundly
condemned Ishihara for his prejudice, but a signiﬁcant minority shared his fears andsaw nothing wrong with his statement. With the population declining and a labor
shortage looming, the economy was likely to generate demand for far greater numbersof immigrant workers in the near future. The question of how people would responded
to an increasingly multiethnic society remained to be answered.24
Equally uncertain was the future of Japan’s global role. For over half a century,
American troops had been stationed on Japanese soil in the face of signiﬁcant mis­
givings and much strong opposition. The huge American presence in Okinawa was aparticular sore point. In the 1990s three-quarters of the total American force in Japanwas based there. The U.S. facilities covered one-ﬁfth of the island. In 1995, three
American servicemen kidnapped and raped a twelve-year-old Okinawan girl. This wasamong the most brutal of many crimes committed over the years by soldiers against
civilians. It sparked some of the most vociferous anti-base protests in decades, bothin Okinawa and on the main islands. The largest demonstrations drew eighty-ﬁve
thousand people. American and Japanese ofﬁcials scrambled with some success tomollify protestors over the following months and years. They developed plans toslightly reduce troop levels and shift some facilities to less populated areas of theisland.
For Japanese citizens, the most persuasive reason for the United States–Japan
alliance had long been to protect Japan from allegedly hostile communist regimes in
the Soviet Union, China, and North Korea. The bases also served America’s broader
strategic goals, such as protection of oil supply lines from the Middle East to East
Asia, which beneﬁted Japan directly. Finally, more than ﬁfty years after the end ofWorld War II, Japan’s Asian neighbors still expressed fear that Japan might rearm.
The American military presence, in their view and that of American strategists, madethis unnecessary and thus served, in a sense, to “contain” Japan even while protectingit.
The end of the Cold War undercut the argument that U.S. bases protected Japan
from a communist threat. It helps explain the particular force of the anti-base protestsof the mid-1990s. As moves toward reconciliation on the Korean peninsula gained
force from the year 2000, the immediate military threat to Japan receded further. The
American military presence on Japanese soil was certain to remain controversial.
Japan’s own military role in the larger Asian region and beyond was a related
matter of ongoing debate at home and abroad. After the Gulf War, the Japanese gov­
ernment authorized the participation of the Self-Defense Force (SDF) in peacekeeping
operations of the United Nations. The ﬁrst such SDF action came in Cambodia in
1992. Over the next four years, the SDF joined United Nations actions on four oc­
casions, helping to supervise elections in Angola (1992), Mozambique (1993–95), andEl Salvador (1994), as well as serving as observers of the truce on the Golan Heights
between Israel and Syria (1996). These actions represented a signiﬁcant expansion ofJapan’s international role.

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Even so, the American government continued to pressure Japan to grant the SDF
a more active role as military partner by expanding its mission beyond the narrow
defense of the home islands. The Japanese government obliged in 1998 by writing
more liberal “guidelines” for allowable SDF activity. According to the new guidelines,
the SDF was to provide logistic support for American forces beyond Japan’s borders
in cases of “regional emergency.” Newly authorized activities included inspection of
third-party vessels as well as search-and-rescue missions of U.S. personnel or Japanesenationals abroad. In the wake of terrorist attacks on the United States on September
11, 2001, the Japanese government moved quickly—and in the face of considerable
domestic opposition—to pass a new Anti-Terrorism Law enabling the SDF to join
American operations in Afghanistan with various sorts of logistical support.
Despite their calls for a more forward Japanese military posture, Americans
looked askance when Japanese ofﬁcials sought a more forward economic role. Gov­
ernment leaders in 1997 proposed creating an Asian Monetary Fund to help Korea
and other nations cope with their ﬁnancial crisis, but the United States scornfully
rejected the notion. This response revealed the ongoing tension between American
desires to promote Japan as an ally while containing its military or economic power.
Nonetheless, Japanese ofﬁcials continued to pursue a more active foreign economic
policy. They offered signiﬁcant loan funding to help troubled business ventures survive
throughout the region. National interest played a role because these funds often sup­ported ventures linked to Japanese companies. But the loan terms were typically moregenerous than the aid provided by the American-dominated International Monetary
Fund. Japan’s more forward economic proﬁle was generally welcomed by other Asianleaders.25
The subject of history itself remained one continuing impediment to this effort
to build stable and constructive relationships throughout Asia. Ironically, as the war
receded into the past, tensions came to the fore within Japan and abroad over historical
understanding of Japanese imperialism and World War II. In 1991, renewed contro­
versy erupted when three Korean former “comfort women,” with support from femi­
nists in Japan, brought legal suit against the Japanese government. The fact that broth­els had been operated for the convenience of Japanese soldiers near the front lines in
China and Southeast Asia was not in dispute. Nor was the fact that most of the“comfort women” were Korean. But the government continued to deny any ofﬁcial
involvement of the military in setting up or supervising the brothels or in forcing
women to work there. In early 1992, a Japanese historian uncovered government
documents conﬁrming that the military was closely involved in creating the wartime
system of so-called comfort stations. The newly found evidence—together with evi­
dence already available but not widely publicized—made it clear that the Japanesemilitary played a direct role in setting up the comfort stations and that signiﬁcantnumbers of the women were slaves rather than prostitutes. Japanese Prime Minister
Miyazawa Kiichi reversed the ofﬁcial position and admitted that the government had
played a role in the system of sexual slavery. On a visit to Seoul in 1992 he offeredan apology. Those surviving comfort women who came forward, as well as supporters
in Japan and around the world, demanded compensation as well as an apology.
These and other charges of war crimes sparked a nationalist backlash over thecourse of the 1990s and into the new century. A new wave of “revisionist” historians
condemned what they called a “masochist” historical consciousness that stressed the332

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dark side of the Japanese past. Some went so far as to deny that the Nanjing Massacreof 1937–38 had taken place. They called for a history, in particular as taught in theschools, that would instill pride in the “Japanese people” by stressing achievements
such as Japan’s rapid emergence as an independent modern state. Echoing Hayashi
Fusao’s position in the 1960s, they characterized World War II as a noble endeavor
to liberate Asia from the yoke of Western imperialism. They opposed teaching children
about such subjects as the comfort women or massacres of civilians.
In 2001, the Association to Write New Textbooks wrote a textbook that took thisnarrowly nationalistic approach. The Japanese Ministry of Education forced the au­thors to tone down their rhetoric and correct factual errors in over one hundred places,
but it ultimately approved the book for possible classroom use. Historians, teachers,
and many citizens at home, as well as the public and the governments of China andSouth Korea in particular, sharply criticized this textbook and the government’s de­cision to accept it. The ﬁrst round of decisions by prefectural and municipal schoolboards came in the summer of 2001, and only a handful of schools (far less than 1
percent) actually adopted the text. But the issue of how to teach the past to young
people in Japan was certain to remain controversial.
Such controversy over how to remember the bloody past of modern times wascertainly a worldwide phenomenon. In an exhibit at the Smithsonian Museum featur­ing the airplane that dropped the bomb on Hiroshima, veterans’ organizations in the
United States in 1995 ultimately prevented a full discussion of the use of the atomic
bombs. In Japan, against sharp criticism by many historians, organizations of war
veterans and their kin in the 1990s pushed forward plans for the state-funded Memorial
Hall for the War Dead with an exhibition that avoided discussion of Japan’s wartime
aggression. As the twenty-ﬁrst century began, people in Japan were taking part incontinued debate over how to characterize the modern history of nations and how tosituate this as part of a global experience. How does one balance the desire to feelpride in one’s heritage with the need to honestly examine inequality, injustice, andthe operation of power in the past? And what, exactly, are the borders of any one
person’s heritage? Whether one considers the interaction and ﬂow of ideas, of people,of goods, or of technologies, it is clear that themes of history and heritage cannot, inthe end, be contained within national borders.

Appendix A
PRIME MINISTERS OF JAPAN, 1885–2001
Entered Ofﬁce

Left Ofﬁce

Itō Hirobumi
Kuroda Kiyotaka
Yamagata Aritomo
Matsukata Masayoshi
Itō Hirobumi
Matsukata Masayoshi
Itō Hirobumi
Ōkuma Shigenobu
Yamagata Aritomo
Itō Hirobumi
Katsura Tarō
Saionji Kimmochi
Katsura Tarō
Saionji Kimmochi
Katsura Tarō
Yamamoto GonnohyōeŌkuma Shigenobu
Terauchi Masatake
Hara Kei (Takashi)

December 1885
April 1888
December 1889
May 1891
August 1892
September 1896
January 1898
June 1898
November 1898
October 1900
June 1901
January 1906
July 1908
August 1911
December 1912
February 1913
April 1914
October 1916
September 1918

April 1888
December 1889
May 1891
August 1892
September 1896
January 1898
June 1898
November 1898
October 1900
June 1901
January 1906
July 1908
August 1911
December 1912
February 1913
April 1914
October 1916
September 1918
November 1921

So
c

y

to
r

H
is

ge
le
ol
C
ta
at
bh
ya

November 1921
June 1922
September 1923
January 1924
June 1924
January 1926
April 1927
July 1929
April 1931
December 1931

June 1922
September 1923
January 1924
June 1924
January 1926
April 1927
July 1929
April 1931
December 1931
May 1932

Saitō Makoto
Okada Keisuke
Hirota Kōki

May 1932
July 1934
March 1935

July 1934
March 1935
February 1937

Hayashi Senjūrō
Konoe Fumimaro

February 1937
June 1937

June 1937
January 1939

Ar

Takahashi Korekiyo
Katō Tomosaburō
Yamamoto GonnohyōeKiyoura Keigo
Katō Kōmei (Takaaki)
Wakatsuki Reijirō
Tanaka Giichi
Hamaguchi Osachi
Wakatsuki Reijirō
Inukai TsuyoshiietyName of Prime Minister(continued )

333

334

A P P E N D IX AEntered Ofﬁce

Left Ofﬁce

Hiranuma Kiichirō
Abe Nobuyuki

January 1939
August 1939

August 1939
January 1940

Yonai Mitsumasa
Konoe Fumimaro

January 1940
July 1940

July 1940
October 1941Tōjō Hideki
Koiso Kuniaki
Suzuki KantarōOctober 1941
July 1944
April 1945

July 1944
April 1945
August 1945

Postwar Prime Ministers,
under Meiji Constitution

Entered Ofﬁce

Left Ofﬁce

Higashikuni Naruhiko
Shidehara Kijūrō
Yoshida Shigeru

August 1945
October 1945
May 1946

October 1945
May 1946
May 1947

Postwar Prime Ministers,
under New Constitution

Entered Ofﬁce

Katayama Tetsu
Ashida Hitoshi
Yoshida Shigeru
Hatoyama IchirōIshibashi Tanzan
Kishi Nobusuke
Ikeda Hayato
Satō Eisaku
Tanaka Kakuei
Miki Takeo
Fukuda TakeoŌhira Masayoshi
Suzuki Zenkō
Nakasone Yasuhiro

May 1947
March 1948
October 1948
December 1954
December 1956
February 1957
July 1960
November 1964
July 1972
December 1974
December 1976
December 1978
July 1980
November 1982

So
c

y

to
r

H
is

ge
le
ol
C
ta
at
bh
ya
Ar

Takeshita Noboru
Uno Sōsuke
Kaifu Toshiki
Miyazawa Kiichi
Hosokawa Morihiro
Hata Tsutomu
Murayama Tomiichi
Hashimoto Ryūtarō

ietyName of Prime Minister

Left Ofﬁce
March 1948
October 1948
December 1954
December 1956
February 1957
July 1960
November 1964
July 1972
December 1974
December 1976
December 1978
July 1980
November 1982
November 1987

November 1987
June 1989
August 1989
November 1991
August 1993
April 1994
June 1994
January 1996

June 1989
August 1989
November 1991
August 1993
April 1994
June 1994
January 1996
July 1998

Obuchi Keizō
Mori Yoshihiro

July 1998
April 2000

April 2000
April 2001

Koizumi Junichirō

April 2001

Appendix B
VOTE TOTALS AND SEATS BY PARTY,
1945–2000 LOWER HOUSE ELECTIONSElection of April 10, 1946
Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Party (Jiyūtō)
Progressive Party(Shinpotō)Japan Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō)Co-operative Party(Kyōdōtō)
Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)13,506,000 (24.4)
10,351,000 (18.7)

140 (30.2)
94 (20.3)

Independent
OthersTotal

11,325,000 (20.4)
6,473,000 (11.7)
55,449,000Soc

92 (19.8)

1,800,000 (3.2)

14 (3.0)

H
is

to
r

y

9,858,000 (17.8)

ietyParty Name

5 (1.1)81 (17.4)
38 (8.2)
464

Ar

Party Name

ya

bh

at

ta

C

ol

le

ge

2,136,000 (3.8)

Japan Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō)
Liberal Party (Jiyūtō)
Democratic Party(Minshutō)People’s Co-operative Party(Kokumin Kyōdōtō)
Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)Independent
Others
Total

Election of April 25, 1947
Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

7,176,000 (26.2)

143 (30.7)

7,356,000 (26.9)
6,840,000 (25.0)

131 (28.1)
121 (26.0)

1,916,000 (7.0)

29 (6.2)

1,003,000 (3.7)

4 (0.8)

1,581,000 (5.8)

13 (2.8)

1,490,000 (5.4)
27,362,000

25 (5.4)
466

335

336

A P P E N D IX B

Election of January 23, 1949
Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Democratic Liberal Party(Minshujiyūtō)

13,420,000 (43.9)

264 (56.7)

Democratic Party(Minshutō)

4,798,000 (15.7)

69 (14.8)

Japan Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)People’s Co-operative Party(Kokumin Kyōdōtō)
Labor Farmer Party (Rōdōsha nōmintō)Independent
OthersTotal

4,130,000 (13.5)

48 (10.3)

2,985,000 (9.7)

35 (7.5)

1,042,000 (3.4)

14 (3.0)

607,000 (2.0)

7 (1.5)2,008,000 (6.6)
1,602,000 (5.2)
30,593,000

12 (2.6)
17 (3.6)
466

y

So
c

ie
ty

Party NametorElection of October 10, 1952
Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Party (Jiyūtō)
Reformist Party (Kaishintō)Right Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō, Uha)
Left Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō, Saha))Labor Farmer Party (Rōdōsha nōmintō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)Independent
Others16,939,000 (47.9)
6,429,000 (18.2)
4,108,000 (11.6)

240 (51.5)
85 (18.2)
57 (12.2)

3,399,000 (9.6)

54 (11.6)

261,000 (0.7)

4 (0.9)897,000 (2.6)

0 (0)2,355,000 (6.7)
949,000 (2.7)

19 (4.1)
7 (1.5)35,337,000

466

Ar

ya

bh

at

ta

C

ol

le

ge

H
is

Party Name

Total

337

Appendix B
Election of April 19, 1953
Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Yoshida Liberal Party(Jiyūtō [Yoshida-ha])

13,476,000 (39.0)

199 (42.7)

Reformist Party (Kaishintō)Left Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaito¯, Saha))Right Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaito¯, Uha))
Hatoyama Liberal Party(Jiyūtō [Hatoyama-ha])Labor Farmer Party(Ro¯dōsha nōminto¯)

6,186,000 (17.9)
4,517,000 (13.1)

76 (16.3)
72 (15.4)

4,678,000 (11.6)

66 (14.2)

3,055,000 (8.8)

35 (7.5)

359,000 (1.0)

5 (1.1)

656,000 (1.9)

1 (0.2)

1,524,000 (4.4)
152,000 (0.4)
34,602,000

11 (2.4)
1 (0.2)
466

H
is

to
r

y

Total

So
c

Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsanto¯)Independent
OthersietyParty Name

Election of February 27, 1955
Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Democratic Party(Minshutō)
Reformist Party (Kaishintō)Left Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaito¯, Saha)
Right Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaito¯, Uha)
Labor Farmer Party(Ro¯dōsha nōminto¯)

13,536,000 (36.6)

185 (39.6)

9,849,000 (26.6)
5,683,000 (15.3)

112 (24.0)
89 (19.1)

5,130,000 (13.9)

67 (14.3)

358,000 (1.0)

4 (0.9)733,000 (2.0)

2 (0.4)

1,229,000 (3.3)
497,000 (1.3)
37,015,000

6 (1.3)2 (0.4)
467

Ar

ya

bh

at

ta

C

ol

le

ge

Party NameJapan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsanto¯)Independent
OthersTotal

338

A P P E N D IX B

Election of May 22, 1958
Party Name

Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)

22,977,000 (57.8)

287 (61.5)

Japan Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)Independent
OthersTotal

13,094,000 (32.9)

166 (35.5)

1,012,000 (2.6)

1 (0.2)

2,381,000 (6.0)
288,000 (0.7)
39,752,000

12 (2.6)
1 (0.2)
467

Election of November 20, 1960

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)Japan Socialist Party(Nihon Shakaitō)
Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)Independent

22,740,000 (57.6)

to
r

y

10,887,000 (27.6)

Seats (% of total)ietyVotes (% of total)SocParty Name

1,157,000 (2.9)

3 (0.6)

le

ge

H
is

17 (3.7)ol

142,000 (0.3)
39,509,000

5 (1.1)1 (0.2)
467

Election of November 21, 1963
Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)Japan Socialist Party(Nihon Shakaitō)
Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)22,424,000 (54.7)

283 (60.7)

11,907,000 (29.0)

144 (30.8)

3,023,000 (7.4)

23 (4.9)

1,646,000 (4.0)

5 (1.1)

Independent

1,956,000 (4.8)

12 (2.6)

OthersTotal

60,000 (0.1)
41,017,000

0 (0)
467

Ar

Party Name

ya

bh

at

ta

C

145 (31.0)

3,464,000 (8.8)

1,119,000 (2.8)

OthersTotal

296 (63.4)

339

Appendix B
Election of January 29, 1967
Party Name

Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)Japan Socialist Party(Nihon Shakaitō)
Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)
Kōmei Party (Kōmeitō)

22,448,000 (48.8)

277 (57.0)

12,826,000 (27.9)

140 (28.8)

3,404,000 (7.4)

30 (6.2)

2,472,000 (5.4)
2,191,000 (4.8)

25 (5.1)
5 (1.0)2,554,000 (5.5)

9 (1.9)0 (0)486Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)Independent

101,000 (0.2)
45,997,000

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)Japan Socialist Party(Nihon Shakaitō)
Kōmei Party (Kōmeitō)
Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)22,382,000 (47.6)

tor

288 (59.2)
90 (18.5)

5,125,000 (10.9)
3,637,000 (7.7)

47 (9.7)
31 (6.4)

le

ge

H
is

10,074,000 (21.4)

ol
C
ta

Seats (% of total)

3,199,000 (6.8)

14 (2.9)

2,493,000 (5.3)

16 (3.3)

81,000 (0.2)
46,990,000

0 (0)
486

Ar

ya

bh

OthersTotal

atIndependentyVotes (% of total)

SocElection of December 27, 1969
Party NameietyOthers
Total

Election of December 10, 1972
Party Name

Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)Japan Socialist Party(Nihon Shakaitō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)Kōmei Party (Kōmeitō)24,563,000 (46.8)

271 (55.2)

11,479,000 (21.9)

118 (24.0)

5,497,000 (10.5)

38 (7.7)

4,437,000 (8.5)

29 (5.9)

Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)
Independent
OthersTotal

3,661,000 (7.0)

19 (3.9)

2,646,000 (5.0)

14 (2.9)

143,000 (0.3)
52,425,000

2 (0.4)491

340

A P P E N D IX B

Election of December 5, 1976
Party Name

Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)Japan Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō)
Kōmei Party (Kōmeitō)
Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)New Liberal Club (Shin Jiyū
Club)
Independent
OthersTotal

23,654,000 (41.8)

249 (48.7)

11,713,000 (20.7)

123 (24.1)
55 (10.8)
29 (5.7)

5,878,000 (10.4)

17 (3.3)

2,364,000 (4.2)

17 (3.3)

3,227,000 (5.7)
45,000 (0.1)
56,613,000

21 (4.1)
0 (0)
511

So
c

ie
ty

6,177,000 (10.9)
3,554,000 (6.3)

Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)Japan Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō)
Kōmei Party (Kōmeitō)

24,084,000 (44.6)

H
is

248 (48.6)

ge

to
r

y

Election of October 7, 1979
Party Name

107 (20.9)

Ar

ya

bh

at

le
ol
C

ta

Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)
Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)
New Liberal Club (Shin Jiyū
Club)
Social Democratic League(Shakaiminshurengō)Independent
OthersTotal

10,643,000 (19.7)
5,283,000 (9.8)
5,626,000 (10.4)

57 (11.2)
39 (7.6)

3,664,000 (6.8)

35 (6.3)

1,632,000 (3.0)

4 (0.7)368,000 (0.7)

2 (0.4)

2,641,000 (4.9)
69,000 (0.1)
54,010,000

19 (3.7)
0 (0)
511

341

Appendix B
Election of June 22, 1980
Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshuto¯)

28,262,000 (47.9)284 (55.6)

Japan Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō)
Ko¯mei Party (Kōmeitō)

11,401,000 (19.3)

107 (20.9)

5,330,000 (9.0)
3,897,000 (6.6)

33 (6.5)
32 (6.3)

5,804,000 (9.8)

29 (5.7)

New Liberal Club (Shin Jiyu¯Club)1,766,000 (3.0)

12 (2.3)

Social Democratic League(Shakaiminshurengō)Independent
Others402,000 (0.7)

3 (0.5)2,057,000 (3.5)
109,000 (0.2)
59,029,000

11 (2.1)
0 (0)
511

to
r

y

Total

So
c

Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsanto¯)ietyParty Name

HisElection of December 18, 1983
Votes (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshuto¯)

25,983,000 (45.8)

Seats (% of total)
250 (48.9)
112 (21.9)

5,746,000 (10.1)
4,130,000 (7.3)

58 (11.3)
38 (7.4)

5,302,000 (9.3)

26 (5.1)

New Liberal Club (Shin Jiyu¯
Club)1,341,000 (2.4)

8 (1.6)Social Democratic League(Shakaiminshurengō)Independent
Others381,000 (0.7)

3 (0.6)2,769,000 (4.9)
62,000 (0.1)
56,780,000

16 (3.1)
2 (0.4)511

C

11,065,000 (19.5)

attaJapan Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō)
Ko¯mei Party (Kōmeitō)

ol

le

ge

Party Name

Ar

ya

bh

Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsanto¯)

Total

342

A P P E N D IX B

Election of July 6, 1986
Party Name

Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)Japan Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō)
Kōmei Party (Kōmeitō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)
Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)
New Liberal Club (Shin Jiyū
Club)
Social Democratic League(Shakaiminshurengō)Independent

29,875,000 (49.4)

300 (58.6)

10,412,000 (17.2)

85 (16.6)

OthersTotal

121,000 (0.2)
60,449,000

56 (10.9)
26 (5.1)

3,896,000 (6.4)

26 (5.1)

1,115,000 (1.8)

6 (1.2)500,000 (0.8)

4 (0.8)3,515,000 (5.8)

9 (1.7)
0 (0)
512

to
r

y

So
c

ie
ty

5,701,000 (9.4)
5,313,000 (8.8)

HisElection of February 18, 1990
Votes (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)Japan Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō)
Kōmei Party (Kōmeitō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)
Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)Social Democratic League(Shakaiminshurengō)Independent
OthersTotal

30,315,000 (46.1)

ol
C

ta

at

bh

ya

Ar

Seats (% of total)
275 (53.7)

legeParty Name

16,025,000 (24.4)

136 (26.6)

5,243,000 (8.0)
5,227,000 (8.0)

45 (8.8)
16 (3.1)

3,179,000 (4.8)

14 (2.7)

567,000 (0.9)

4 (0.8)4,807,000 (7.3)
58,000 (0.1)
65,704,000

21 (4.1)
0 (0)
512

343

Appendix B
Election of July 18, 1993
Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)Japan Socialist Party (Nihon
Shakaitō)Renewal Party (Shinseitō)
Kōmei Party (Kōmeitō)Japan New Party (Nihon
Shintō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)23,000,000 (36.6)

223 (43.6)

9,687,000 (15.4)

70 (13.7)

6,341,000 (10.1)

55 (10.8)

5,114,000 (8.1)
5,054,000 (8.0)

51 (10.0)35 (6.8)

4,835,000 (7.7)

15 (2.9)

Democratic Socialist Party(Minshushakaitō)
New Harbinger Party(Shintō Sakigake)Social Democratic League(Shakaiminshurengō)Independent
OthersTotal

2,206,000 (3.5)

15 (2.9)

1,658,000 (2.6)

13 (2.5)

ietyParty Name

4 (0.8)30 (5.9)
17 (3.3)
511

ge

H
is

to
r

y

4,385,000 (6.9)
4,512,000 (7.1)
62,804,000

Soc461,000 (0.7)

leElection of October 20, 1996
Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

21,836,000 (38.6)

239 (47.8)

15,812,000 (28.0)

156 (31.2)

6,002,000 (10.6)

52 (10.4)

7,097,000 (12.6)

15 (3.0)

1,241,000 (2.2)

15 (3.0)

728,000 (13)2 (0.4)

149,000 (0.3)

1 (0.2)

2,509,000 (4.4)

9 (1.8)

Ar

ya

bh

at

ta

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)
New Frontier Party(Shinshintō)
Democratic Party(Minshutō)Japan Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)Social Democratic Party(Shakaiminshutō)
New Harbinger Party(Shintō Sakigake)
Democratic Reform League(Minkairen)
IndependentC

ol

Party Name

Others1,110,000 (2.1)

Total

55,569,000

0 (0)
500

344

A P P E N D IX B

Election of June 25, 2000
Party Name

Votes (% of total)

Seats (% of total)

Liberal Democratic Party(Jiyūminshutō)25,733,000 (41.0)

233 (48.54)

Democratic Party (Minshutō)New Komeitō (Shin Kōmeitō)
Liberal Party (Jiyūtō)

17,323,000 (27.6)
1,255,000 (2.0)

127 (26.46)
31 (6.46)

2,134,000 (3.4)
7,594,000 (12.1)

22 (4.58)
20 (4.17)

2,385,000 (3.8)

19 (3.96)

3,075,000 (4.9)

15 (3.13)

3,326,000 (5.3)
62,764,000

13 (2.7)
480

Japanese Communist Party(Nihon Kyōsantō)Social Democratic Party(Shakaiminshutō)Independent
Others
Total

Ar

ya

bh

at

ta

C

ol

le

ge

H
is

to
r

y

So
c

ie
ty

Sources: Through 1996—Asahi Nenkan, various dates, as tabulated in J. A. A. Stockwin, Governing
Japan: Divided Politics in a Major Economy, 3rd ed. (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1999),
pp. 158–61. Election of 2000—Asahi Nenkan (2000).

NotesNOTES TO CHAPTER 1

Ar

ya

bh

at

ta

C

ol

le

ge

H
is

to
r

y

So
c

ie
ty

1. Cited in Mikiso Hane, Peasants, Rebels, and Outcastes: The Underside of Modern
Japan (New York: Pantheon Books, 1982), p. 8.
2. Engelbert Kaempfer, Kaempfer’s Japan, ed. and trans. Beatrice M. Bodart Bailey(Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1999), p. 271. Kaempfer was a German scholar who
spent the years 1690 to 1692 with Dutch traders at their outpost in Nagasaki.
3. James Murdoch and George Sansom cited in George Elison, “The Cross and theSword,” in Warlords, Artists, and Commoners: Japan in the Sixteenth Century, ed. George
Elison and Barwell L. Smith (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1981), pp. 67–68.
4. A. L. Sadler, The Maker of Modern Japan: The Life of Tokugawa Ieyasu (1937; reprint,
Rutland, Vt.: Charles E. Tuttle Company, 1984), p. 25.
5. With the division of some domains and promotion of some direct vassals to daimyō
status, the number of daimyō increased over time, stabilizing at about 260 in the eighteenth
century.
6. A koku is a unit of measure equivalent to about 180 liters.
7. The Journal of Townsend Harris (Tokyo: Kinkōdō Shoseki, 1913), pp. 468–80.
8. James L. McClain, Kanazawa: A Seventeenth-Century Japanese Castle Town (NewHaven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1982), p. 151.
9. The regulations also had an unintended consequence important to historians. Like thedata stored in parishes of early modern Europe, the population records collected in Japan’s
temple registers provided the raw materials in recent decades for sophisticated analysis of
demographic and social history.
10. Bob Tadashi Wakabayashi, Anti-Foreignism and Western Learning in Early-Modern
Japan: The New Theses of 1825 (Cambridge: Harvard Council on East Asian Studies, 1986),
p. 149.
11. John W. Hall, “Rule by Status in Tokugawa Japan,” Journal of Japanese Studies 1,
no. 1 (Fall 1974): 39–49.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 2
1. See John W. Hall, “The Castle Town and Japan’s Modern Urbanization,” in Studies in
the Institutional History of Early Modern Japan, ed. John W. Hall and Marius Jansen (Princeton,
N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1968).
2. Cited in Michael Cooper, They Came to Japan: An Anthology of European Reports
on Japan, 1543–1640 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1965), p. 292.
3. All quotes are taken from Yasumi Roan, “Ryokō Yojinshū,” as translated and intro­
duced in Constantine N. Vaporis, “Caveat Viator: Advice to Travelers in the Edo Period,”
Monumenta Nipponica 44, no. 4 (Winter 1989): 461–83.
345

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4. Thomas C. Smith, Native Sources of Japanese Industrialization, 1750–1920 (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1988), p. 51.
5. For a discussion of literacy rates, see Ronald Dore, Education in Tokugawa Japan(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1965).
6. Smith, Native Sources, pp. 20–21, 46–47.
7. See Thomas C. Smith, Nakahara: Family Farming and Population in a Japanese
Village, 1717–1830 (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1977). A review of this bookby Daniel Scott Smith in Journal of Japanese Studies 5, no. 1 (Winter 1979) offers somealternative interpretations of the data.
8. Statement by Sugita Genpaku, cited in Harold Bolitho, “The Tempō Crisis,” in The
Cambridge History of Japan, vol. 5, The Nineteenth Century, ed. Marius Jansen (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1989), p. 128.
9. Cited in Smith, Native Sources pp. 25–26.
10. Cited in Smith, Native Sources p. 29.
11. Stephen Vlastos, Peasant Protests and Uprisings in Tokugawa Japan (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1986), p. 46. See also James W. White, Ikki: Social Conﬂict
and Political Protest in Early Modern Japan (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1995),
p. 157.
12. Jennifer Robertson, “The Shingaku Woman,” in Recreating Japanese Women, 1600–
1945, ed. Gail Bernstein (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991), p. 91.
13. Kathleen S. Uno, “Women and Changes in the Household Division of Labor,” inRecreating Japanese Women, p. 33.
14. Uno, “Women and Changes in the Household Division of Labor,” cites Isabella Bird,
Unbeaten Tracks in Japan (New York: G.P. Putnam, 1880).

CNOTES TO CHAPTER 3

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1. For more on this topic, see Herman Ooms, Tokugawa Ideology Early Constructs,
1570–1680 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1985).
2. Samuel H. Yamashita, “The Writings of Ogyū Sorai,” in Confucianism and Tokugawa
Culture, ed. Peter Nosco. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984), pp. 161–165.
3. Tetsuo Najita, Visions of Virtue: The Kaitokudō Merchant Academy of Osaka (Chi­cago: University of Chicago Press, 1987), pp. 1–17.
4. Cited in Haruo Shirane, Traces of Dreams: Landscape, Cultural Memory, and the
Poetry of Basho (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1998), p. 13.
5. Cited in Chushingura: The Treasury of Loyal Retainers, trans. Donald Keene (NewYork: Columbia University Press, 1971), pp. 2–3.
6. Thomas C. Smith, “ ‘Merit’ as Ideology in the Tokugawa Period,” ch. 7 in Native
Sources of Japanese Industrialization, 1750–1920 (Berkeley: University of California Press,
1988), pp. 156–172.
7. Kate Wildman Nakai, “Tokugawa Confucian Historiography,” in Confucianism andTokugawa Culture, ed. Peter Nosco, (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984), p. 86.
8. Tsuji Tatsuya, “Politics in the Eighteenth Century,” in The Cambridge History ofJapan, vol. 4, ed. John W. Hall (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), pp. 468–469.
9. Kären Wigen, The Making of a Japanese Periphery (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1995), p. 169.
10. Peter F. Kornicki, The Book in Japan: A Cultural History from the Beginnings to the
Nineteenth Century (Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 300–306.

347

Notes to Chapter 5

NOTES TO CHAPTER 4Soc

NOTES TO CHAPTER 5

iety

1. Harold Bolitho, “The Tempō Crisis,” in Cambridge History of Japan, vol. 5, The Nine­
teenth Century, ed. Marius Jansen (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 198–9), p. 157.
2. Edward Yorke McCauley, With Perry in Japan: The Diary of Edward Yorke McCauley,ed. Allan B. Cole (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1942), pp. 98–99.
3. McCauley, With Perry in Japan.
4. William G. Beasley, ed., Select Documents on Japanese Foreign Policy, 1853–1868(London: Oxford University Press, 1955), p. 102.
5. Patricia Sippel, “Popular Protest in Early Modern Japan: The Bushū Outburst,” Har­vard Journal of Asiatic Studies 37, no. 2 (1977): 273–322.
6. Cited in Anne Walthall, The Weak Body of a Useless Woman: Matsuo Taseko and the
Meiji Restoration (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), p. 98.
7. Cited in George Wilson, Patriots and Redeemers in Japan: Motives in the Meiji Res­
toration (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992), pp. 105–6.

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1. Basil Hall Chamberlain, Things Japanese (London: K. Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co.,
Ltd., 1891), p. 1.
2. Historian Thomas C. Smith has written a wonderful short essay on this topic: “Japan’s
Aristocratic Revolution”; see in Thomas C. Smith, Native Sources of Japanese Industrialization
1750 to 1920 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988).
3. Yokoyama Toshio, Japan in the Victorian Mind: A Study of Stereotyped Images of a
Nation 1850–80 (Houndmills, Basingstoke, Hampshire: Macmillan, 1987), p. 109.
4. Tokutomi Kenjirō (penname, Roka), Footprints in the Snow, trans. Kenneth Strong(New York: Pegasus Books, 1970), p. 107. Originally published as Omoide no ki, 1901.
5. Tokutomi, Footprints in the Snow, p. 107.
6. Takeshi Fujitani, Splendid Monarchy (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996),
p. 36.
7. Kido Kōin, The Diary of Kido Kōin, vol. 2, Sidney D. Brown, trans. (Tokyo: Tokyo
University Press, 1982)
8. Stephen J. Ericson, The Sound of the Whistle: Railroads and the State in Meiji Japan(Cambridge: Harvard Council on East Asian Studies Monographs, 1996), pp. 66–73.
¯¯
quote is cited in Sidney D. Brown, “Okubo
Toshimichi: His Political and
9. The Okubo
Economic Policies in Early Meiji Japan,” Journal of Asian Studies Vol. 21, No. 2 (February1963), p. 194. The statement on locks was made by Maeda Masano, cited in Thomas Smith,
Political Change and Industrial Development in Japan: Government Enterprise, 1868–1880(Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1955), p. 39.
10. On the Taiwan expedition and the plan for colonization, see Robert Eskildsen, “Of
Civilization and Savages: The Mimetic Imperialism of Japan’s 1874 Expedition to Taiwan,”
American Historical Review, 107, no. 2 (April 2002): 388–418
11. For an interesting account of peoples on Japan’s northern frontier, see Tessa MorrisSuzuki, “Becoming Japanese: Imperial Expansion and Identity Crises in the Early TwentiethCentury,” in Japan’s Competing Modernities: Issues in Culture and Democracy: 1900–1930,
ed. Sharon Minichiello pp. 157–80. (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1998)
12. One historian has suggestively called this a revolution of the “service intelligentsia.”
Thomas Huber, The Revolutionary Origins of Modern Japan (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford Uni­
versity Press, 1981).

348

NOTES TO CHAPTER 6NOTES TO CHAPTER 6

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1. Furushima Toshio, Nihon hōken nōgyōshi (Tokyo: Kowa Shobo, 1947), p. 83.
2. Bob T. Wakabayashi, Anti-Foreignism and Western Learning in Early Modern Japan:
The New Theses of 1825 (Cambridge: Harvard Council on East Asian Studies Monographs,
1986), p. 211.
3. Soyejima Taneomi et al., “Memorial on the Establishment of a Representative Assem­
bly,” in Japanese Government Documents, ed. W. W. McLaren, published in Transactions of
the Asiatic Society of Japan 42, Part 1 (1914) pp. 426–432.
4. Irokawa Daikichi, The Culture of the Meiji Period (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton Univer­sity Press, 1985), p. 101.
5. Irokawa, Culture of the Meiji Period, p. 111.
6. Cited in Stephen Vlastos, “Opposition Movements in Early Meiji,” in The Cambridge
History of Japan, vol. 5, The Nineteenth Century, ed. Marius Jansen (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1989), p. 411.
7. Cited in Richard Devine, “The Way of the King,” Monumenta Nipponica (Spring1979): 53. vol. 34, No. 1.
8. Cited in Masao Miyoshi, As We Saw Them: The First Japanese Embassy to the UnitedStates (1860) (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979), p. 71.
9. These various essays are available in William Braisted, ed. and trans., Meiroku Zasshi:
Journal of the Japanese Enlightenment (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1976).
10. Braisted, Meiroku Zasshi, p. 395, quotes Sakatani Shiroshi, “On Concubines,” March
1, 1875.
11. Cited in Sharon Seivers, Flowers in Salt (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press,
1983), p. 36.
12. Inoue Kiyoshi, Jōyaku kaisei: Meiji no minzoku mondai (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten,1955), p. 117.
13. The original seven oligarchs (genrō) were Itō Hirobumi, Kuroda Kiyotaka, Matsukata¯
Masayoshi, Oyama
Iwao, Saigō Tsugumichi, Yamagata Aritomo, and Inoue Kaoru. In the early
1900s, Katsura Tarō and Saionji Kimmochi were added to their ranks.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 7

1. See James Nakamura, Agricultural Production and the Economic Development of Ja­pan, 1873–1922 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1966), and Henry Rosovsky,“Rumbles in the Rice Fields,” Journal of Asian Studies (February 1968): 347–60. vol. 27, No.
2
2. Cited in Eleanor Hadley, Antitrust in Japan (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 1970), p. 35.
3. Alexander Gerschenkron, Economic Backwardness in Historical Perspective (Cam­bridge: Harvard University Press, 1962), ch. 1, pp. 5–30.
4. For a more detailed account, see Steven J. Ericson, The Sound of the Whistle: Rail­roads and the State in Meiji Japan (Cambridge: Harvard Council on East Asian Studies, 1996).
5. Shibusawa Eiichi and Morimura Ichizaemon, both cited in Byron Marshall, Capitalism
and Nationalism in Japan (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1967), pp. 35–36.
6. This report is cited in Hazama Hiroshi, Nihon rōmu kanri shi kenkyū (Tokyo: Ochan­omizu shobo, 1978), p. 277.
7. E. Patricia Tsurumi, Factory Girls: Women in the Thread Mills of Meiji Japan (Prince­
ton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1990), pp. 93, 97, 99.

349

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8. Thomas C. Smith, Native Sources of Japanese Industrialization 1750–1920 (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1988), p. 257.
9. Cited in Andrew Gordon, The Evolution of Labor Relations in Japan (Cambridge:
Harvard Council on East Asian Studies, 1985), p. 83.
10. Donald Roden, Schooldays in Imperial Japan: A Study in the Culture of a Student
Elite (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980), pp. 165–73.
11. William P. Malm, “Modern Music of Meiji Japan,” in Tradition and Modernizationin Japanese Culture, ed. Donald Shively (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1971),
p. 259–77.
12. John M. Rosenﬁeld, “Western Style Painting in the Early Meiji Period and Its Crit­ics,” in Tradition and Modernization in Japanese Culture, pp. 181–219.
13. See Stephen Vlastos, Mirror of Modernity: Invented Traditions of Modern Japan(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998).
14. See Irwin Scheiner, Christian Converts and Social Protest in Meiji Japan (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1970).
15. Statement by Tanabashi Ichirō, cited in Kenneth Pyle, The New Generation in Meiji
Japan: Problems of Cultural Identity, 1885–1895 (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press,
1969), p. 66.

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1. For an interesting discussion of this topic, see David Howell, “Visions of the Futurein Meiji Japan,” in Historical Perspectives on Contemporary East Asia, ed. Merle Goldman and
Andrew Gordon (Cambridge, Harvard University Press, 2000).
2. The Times, April 20, 1895, p. 7.
3. See Carol Gluck, Japan’s Modern Myths: Ideology in the Late Meiji Period (Princeton,
N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1985), pp. 135–36.
4. Cited in Gluck, Japan’s Modern Myths, p. 137.
5. Cited in Howell, “Visions of the Future,” p. 117.
6. See William Lockwood, The Economic Development of Japan (Princeton, N.J.: Prince­
ton University Press, 1968), ch. 6.
7. Known remittances from Hawaii alone were 1.6 percent of Japanese exports. If weassume that some remittances were hidden from government statisticians and that a comparable
amount came from emigrants to the continental United States, the total was over 3 percent. See
Suzuki Jōji, Nihonjin dekasegi imin (Tokyo: Heibonsha, 1992), p. 67.
8. See Akira Iriye, Paciﬁc Estrangement: Japanese and American Expansionism, 1897–
1911 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972), ch. 5.
9. Cited in J. M. Winter, “The Webbs and the non-White World: A Case of Socialist
Racialism,” Journal of Contemporary History (January 1974): Vol. 9. No. 1. 181–92.
10. Bob Tadashi Wakabayashi, Anti-Foreignism and Western Learning in Early-Modern
Japan: The New Theses of 1825 (Cambridge: Harvard Council on East Asian Studies, 1986)
p. 149.
11. Hara’s given name can be read as “Takashi” or as “Kei.” He did not become presidentof the Seiyūkai until 1914, but from 1904 he was the de facto leader in the Diet, with Saionjipresiding in the formal role of party president.
12. Tetsuo Najita, Hara Kei and the Politics of Compromise (Cambridge: Harvard Uni­
versity Press, 1967).
13. Natsume Soseki, Kokoro (New York: Regnery, 1957), p. 245.
14. Cited in Tetsuo Najita, Hara Kei in the Politics of Compromise, p. 147.

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15. Tetsuo, Hara Kei in the Politics of Compromise, quoting Abe Shinnosuke.
16. Cited in Andrew Gordon, Labor and Imperial Democracy in Prewar Japan (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1991), pp. 106–7.
17. Miyachi Masato, Nichiro sengo seijishi kenkyū (Tokyo: Tokyo University Press,
1973), p. 226.
18. Vera Mackie, Creating Socialist Women in Japan: Gender, Labour and Activistm,
1900–1937 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), pp. 60–62.
19. Shakai shinbun, March 8, 1908, p. 4, cited in Gordon, Labor and Imperial Democ­
racy, pp. 74–75.
20. Cited in Matsumoto Gappei, Nihon shakaishugi engeki shi (Tokyo: Chikuma shobō,1975), p. 406.
21. Sharon Nolte and Sally Hastings, “The Meiji State’s Policy toward Women,” in Re­
creating Japanese Women, ed. Gail Bernstein (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991),
pp. 163–64.
22. Cited in Richard Smethurst, A Social Basis for Prewar Japanese Militarism: The
Army and the Rural Community (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974), p. vii.
23. Miyachi Masato, Nichiro sengo seijishi kenkyū (Tokyo: Tokyo University Press,
1973), p. 24.
24. From “My Individualism,” a speech given on November 25, 1914, cited in Natsume
Soseki, Kokoro: A Novel and Selected Essays (Lanhan, Md.: Madison Books, 1992), p. 313.

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1. Industrial production ﬁgures are for plants with ﬁve or more operatives. See William
Lockwood, The Economic Development of Japan: Growth and Structural Change (Princeton,
N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1968), pp. 38–39.
2. Lockwood, The Economic Development of Japan, pp. 39, 56.
3. For an analysis of this problem, see Hugh T. Patrick, “The Economic Muddle of the
1920s,” in Dilemmas of Growth in Prewar Japan, ed. James Morley (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton
University Press, 1971), pp. 211–66.
4. Edward Seidensticker, Low City, High City, Tokyo from Edo to the Earthquake (NewYork: Knopf, 1983), pp. 3–7, for an English language account. He notes that cooking ﬁres were
not the sole cause of the conﬂagrations. Chemicals and electrical wiring were also culprits.
5. The words of the assassin of Mitsui Trading Company’s CEO, Dan Takuma, in 1932.
See John G. Roberts, Mitsui: Three Centuries of Japanese Business (New York: Weatherhill,1973), p. 276.
6. See Ann Waswo, Japanese Landlords: The Decline of a Rural Elite (Berkeley: Uni­
versity of California Press, 1977) pp. 99, 108–9, and Nakamura Masanori, “Daikyōkō to nōson
mondai,” in Iwanami kōza: Nihon rekishi, 19 (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1976), p. 145.
7. See Ronald P. Dore, “The Meiji Landlord: Good or Bad,” Journal of Asian Studies
18, no. 3 (May 1959): 343–355.
8. On the attitudes toward empire of landlords and the rural population, see Michael
Lewis, Becoming Apart: National Power and Local Politics in Toyama, 1868–1945 (Cambridge:
Harvard University Asia Center, 2000).
9. Nagatsuka Takashi, The Soil: A Portrait of Rural Life in Meiji Japan, trans. Ann
Waswo (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), p. 47.
10. Ann Waswo, Modern Japanese Society, 1868–1994 (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1996), p. 66.
11. Author’s interview with Hideji Kamimura, October 14, 1992.

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12. Kobayashi Takiji, The Absentee Landlord (Tokyo: University of Tokyo Press, 1973),
p. 147.
13. Waswo, Japanese Landlords, pp. 99, 108–09. Tenants won all or part of their de­mands in 74 percent of the disputes.
14. About 280,000 of 700,000 employed persons. The total population of Tokyo at thetime was slightly under two million.
15. They were considered family labor and were not counted in these surveys, which
did, however, count female factory workers. This means that the total of 41 percent in the“trading and merchant” category undercounts the actual proportion.
16. Sheldon Garon, Molding Japanese Minds (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 1997), pp. 52–57.
17. Andrew Gordon, Evolution of Labor Relations in Japan (Cambridge: Harvard Coun­cil on East Asian Studies, 1985), pp. 83, 85. Cites Kobayashi Sakutarō of Shibaura Engineering
Works in Taiheiyō shōkō sekai, Nov. 15, 1908, p. 42, and Jitsugyō shōnen, Sept. 1, 1908, p. 9.
18. Matsunari Yoshie et al., Nihon no sarariiman (Tokyo: Aoki shoten, 1957), p. 31.
19. Matsunari et al., Nihon no sarariiman, p. 35.
20. Matsunari et al., Nihon no sarariiman, pp. 27–31. Margit Nagy, “Middle Class Work­ing Women during the Interwar Years,” in Re-creating Japanese Women, 1600–1945, ed. Gail
Bernstein (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991), pp. 199–216.
21. Takeuchi Yō, “Sarariiman to iu shakaiteki hyōshō,” Nihon bunka no shakaigaku:
Gendai shakaigaku 23 (1996): 132, cites Maeda Hajime, Sarariiman monogatari (Tokyo: Tōyō
keizai shuppan, 1928), pp. 1–2, for the wages of male clerks. For wages of factory workers,
see Naimushō tōkei kyoku, Rōdō tōkei jitchi chōsa hōkoku, vol. 4 1927, (reprint, Tokyo: Kōscikan, 1970) p. 6.
22. Matsunari et al., Nihon no sarariiman, pp. 46–57, on male and female organizing
efforts.
23. From Sata Ineko shū, vol. 25 of Gendai Nihon no bungaku (Tokyo: Gakujutsu kenk­
yusho, 1971), pp. 255–56.
24. Cited in Watanabe Etsuji and Suzuki Yūko, eds., Tatakai ni ikite: senzen jujin rōdō
e no shōgen (Tokyo: Domesu shuppan, 1980), p. 206.
25. Nihon rōdō undō shiryō hensan iinkai, ed., Nihon rōdō undō shiryō, vol. 10 (Tokyo:
Tokyo University Press, 1975), p. 122.
26. Cited in Gordon, Evolution of Labor Relations in Japan, p. 36.
27. Cited in Gordon, Evolution of Labor Relations in Japan, pp. 85–86.
28. Cited in Andrew Gordon, Labor and Imperial Democracy in Prewar Japan (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1991), p. 40.
29. Stephen Large, The Rise of Labor in Japan: The Yūaikai (Tokyo: Sophia University
Press, 1972), p. 142.
30. Nihon rōdō undō shiryō hensan iinkai, ed, Nihon rōdō undō shiryō, vol. 10, p. 440.
31. Nihon rōdō undō shiryō hensan iinkai, ed, Nihon rōdō undō shiryō, vol. 10, p. 424.
This was the peak in percentage of the work force (7.9 percent). In absolute numbers, the peak
was 1936, when 420,600 were enrolled in unions (6.9 percent).
32. In the United States, about 13 percent of the nonagricultural work force had joined
unions by early 1935 prior to the grant of legal protection under the Wagner Act.
33. Thomas C. Smith, The Native Origins of Japanese Industrialization (Berkeley: Uni­
versity of California Press, 1988); pp. 236–270.
34. Cited in Gordon, Evolution of Labor Relations in Japan, p. 146.
35. A low estimate of the death toll is 2,700, the result of Yoshino Sakuzō’s investigation.
Ofﬁcial Korean sources calculate a higher ﬁgure of 6,400. The Japanese Ministry of Justicereported only 243 deaths, unquestionably far too low. See Kang Tok-san, Kantō daishinsai

352

N O T E S T O C H A P T E R 10

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(Tokyo: Chūō Kōronsha, 1975), on numbers killed. For newspaper reports, see Kantō daishinsai
to chosenjin, vol. 6 of Gendai shi shiryo, Part I (Tokyo: Misuzu Shobo, 1963). Changsoo Lee
and George Devos, Koreans in Japan (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981), p. 23,
on the police atrocities.
36. On the department store, see Louise Young, “Marketing the Modern: Departments
Stores, Consumer Culture, and the New Middle Class in Interwar Japan,” International Laborand Working Class History 55 (Spring 1999): 52–70.
37. Young, “Marketing the Modern,” p. 56.
38. Takeuchi, “Sarariiman,” p. 127.
39. Ariyoshi Hiroyuki and Hamaguchi Haruhiko, eds., Nihon no shin chūkansō (Tokyo:
Waseda University Press, 1982), p. 1.
40. Laurel Rasplica Todd, “Yosano Akiko and the Taisho Debate over the ‘New
Woman,’ ” in Re-creating Japanese Women, pp. 175–98.
41. Miriam Silverberg, “The Modern Girl as Militant,” in Re-creating Japanese Women,
pp. 239–66; p. 242 for citation to “legs.”
42. Henry DeWitt Smith II, Japan’s First Student Radicals (Cambridge: Harvard Uni­
versity Press, 1972), p. 137.
43. Matsunari et al, Nihon no sarariiman, pp. 44–45, cites Tokyo Asahi Shinbun, Feb.
17, 1918. Mochi are sticky rice cakes traditionally prepared for the New Year holiday.
44. Takeuchi, “Sarariiman,” p. 131. Tanuma Hajime, Gendai no chūkan kaikyū (Tokyo:Ōtsuki shoten, 1958), p. 6.
45. Hara Kei nikki, June 13, 1910, cited in Ariyoshi and Hamaguchi, eds., Nihon no shinchūkansō, p. 4.
46. Yoshino Shinji, Rōdō hōsei kōwa (Tokyo: Kokumin daigaku kai, 1925), p. 14.
47. Miriam Silverberg, “The Modern Girl as Militant,” pp. 248, 258–59, 264.
48. Garon, Molding Japanese Minds, pp. 60, 71.
49. Garon, Molding Japanese Minds, pp. 73–74.
50. Inagaki Tatsurō and Shitamura Toshio, eds. Nihon bungaku no rekishi, vol. 11 (To­kyo: Kadokawa Shoten, 1968), p. 364.
51. Gregory J. Kasza, The State and the Mass Media in Japan (Berkeley: University ofCalifornia Press, 1988), p. 88.
52. On this topic, see Harry D. Harootunian, Overcome by Modernity: History, Culture
and Community in Interwar Japan (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000).

NOTES TO CHAPTER 10
1. See Hara Takeshi, Taishō Tennō (Tokyo: Asahi shinbunsha, 2000), for an important
revision of the standard view that the Taishō monarch was sickly and mentally disturbed for
his entire life. For the Maruyama recollection, see p. 11.
2. Cited in Andrew Gordon, Labor and Imperial Democracy in Prewar Japan (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1993) p. 56.
4. John W. Dower, Embracing Defeat: Japan in the Wake of World War II (New York:W.W. Norton, 1999), pp. 314–15.
5. See Herbert Bix, Hirohito and the Making of Modern Japan (New York: HarperCollins,
2000), Part I, on the education and worldview of the young emperor.
6. Edward Behr, Hirohito (New York: Vintage, 1990), p. 65; Bix, Hirohito and the Mak­
ing of Modern Japan, pp. 214–20.
7. Hugh Byas, Government by Assassination (New York: A.A. Knopf, 1942).
8. Gordon, Labor and Imperial Democracy p. 136.

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9. See Vera Mackie, Creating Socialist Women in Japan: Gender, Labour, and Activism,
1900–1937 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1997). Also, Laura Rasplica Rodd, “TheTaishō Debate over the ‘New Woman,’ ” in Recreating Japanese Women, 1600–1945, ed. Gail
Bernstein (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991), p. 194, and E. Patricia Tsurumi,“Visions of Women and the New Society in Conﬂict: Yamakawa Kikue versus Takamure Itsue,”in Japan’s Competing Modernities: Issues in Culture and Democracy, 1900–1930, ed. Sharon
Minichiello (University of Hawaii Press, 1998), pp. 335–57.
10. See Tetsuo Najita, “Some Reﬂections on Idealism in the Political Thought of Yoshino
Sakuzō,” in Japan in Crisis: Essays on Taishō Democracy, ed. Bernard S. Silberman and H.D.
Harootunian. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1974), p. 56.
11. Eguchi Keiichi, ed., Shimupojiumu Nihon rekishi: Taishō demokurashii (Tokyo:
Gakuseisha, 1976), p. 129, quotes Yokota.
12. Yoshimi Kaneko, Kindai Nihon josei shi (Tokyo: Kagoshima shupparkai, 1971),
p. 146, cites Hara.
13. Sheldon Garon, The State and Labor in Japan (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1987), pp. 62–68; Andrew Gordon, Evolution of Labor Relations in Japan, (Cambridge,
Ma: Harvard Council on East Asian Studies, 1985) pp. 210–11.
14. Sheldon Garon, Molding Japanese Minds: The State in Everyday Life (Princeton,
N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1997), pp. 52–53.
¯
15. Ohara
Shakai Mondai Kenkyūjo, ed., Nihon rōdō nenkan (Tokyo: pub, 1925),
pp. 509–13; Richard Smethurst, Agricultural Development and Tenancy Disputes in Japan,
1870–1940 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1986), p. 355.
16. On Japan and World War I, see Fred Dickinson, War and National Reinvention: Japanin the Great War, 1914–1919 (Cambridge: Harvard University Asia Center, 1999), pp. 93–116.
17. Prime Minister Tanaka presided over a meeting in Tokyo in 1927 that produced amemorandum on Japan’s East Asian policy that was later dubbed the “Tanaka Memorial.”
During and after World War II, the allied powers claimed that this memorial was a blueprint
for Japanese conquest of Asia and the world, but this view has since been largely discredited.
18. As quoted in Roger Daniels, The Politics of Prejudice: The Anti-Japanese Movementin California and the Struggle for Japanese Exclusion (Berkeley: University of California Press,
1962), p. 101.
19. Estimates of the death toll vary. Japanese authorities admitted about 500 killed, 1,400
injured, and 12,000 arrested. Korean estimates run as high as 7,600 killed and 50,000 arrested.
20. George Wilson, Radical Nationalist in Japan: Kita Ikki, 1883–1937 (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1969), p. 82.
21. See Bix, Hirohito and the Making of Modern Japan.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 11
1. For a detailed discussion of economic policy of these years, see Hugh T. Patrick, “TheEconomic Muddle of the 1920s,” in Dilemmas of Growth in Prewar Japan, ed. James Morley(Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1971), pp. 252–55.
2. These quotations found in Eguchi Keiichi, Toshi shōborujoa undō shi no kenkyū (To­kyo: Miraisha, 1976), pp. 418–9, 430–31, 438–9.
3. Sumiya Mikio, Shōwa kyōkō (Tokyo: Yūhikaku, 1974).
4. Suzuki Yūko, Jokō to rōdō sōgi (Tokyo: Renga shobō shinsha, 1989), pp. 16–17.
5. For these quotations, and more on this topic, see Sheldon Garon, Molding Japanese
Minds: The State in Everyday Life (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1997), pp. 106–
111.

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6. Henry D. Smith, Japan’s First Student Radicals (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1972), pp. 199–230.
¯ Sōichi, “1930 nen no kao,” Chūō kōron (December 1930): 303–4.
7. Oya
8. On this incident, see Stephen Pelz, Race to Pearl Harbor: The Failure of the Second
London Naval Conference and the Onset of World War II (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1974).
9. See Ugaki Kazushige, Ugaki Kazushige Nikki, vol. 1 (Tokyo: Misuzu Shobō, 1968)
pp. 747, 758–60, 766–7, 782–3, and Andrew Gordon, Labor and Imperial Democracy, (Berke­ley, Ca.: University of California Press, 1991) pp. 266–7.
10. Louise Young, Japan’s Total Empire (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998),
pp. 55–114, chapter on “War Fever.”11. “Suzuki Teiichi nikki: Shōwa 8 nen,” Shigaku zasshi (January 1978): 87, No. 1 93.
12. Keynes had, however, set out some of his key ideas in earlier publications, and it ispossible that Takahashi was familiar with these.
13. William Lockwood, The Economic Development of Japan (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton
University Press, 1968), pp. 64–77 offers a detailed overview of the economic trends of thisperiod.
14. Chalmers Johnson, MITI and the Economic Miracle (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford Uni­
versity Press, 1982).
15. On agrarian policy and its impact, see Kerry Smith, A Time of Crisis: Japan, theGreat Depression, and Rural Revitalization (Cambridge.: Harvard Asia Center, 2001).
16. Susan Beth Weiner, “Bureaucracy and Politics in the 1930s: The Career of Gotō
Fumio,” (Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 1984), p. 144.
17. Gordon, Labor and Imperial Democracy, pp. 310–5.
18. Two of Kobayashi’s works are available in English, in Takiji Kobayashi, The Factory
Ship and the Absentee Landlord (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1973).
19. Frank O. Miller, Minobe Tatsukichi: Interpreter of Constitutionalism in Japan (Berke­
ley: University of California Press, 1965), pp. 217–8.
20. Garon, Molding Japanese Minds, pp. 61, 70–76.
21. Gregory J. Kasza, The State and the Mass Media in Japan: 1918–1945 (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1988), pp. 88, 252–3.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 12

1. Alvin Coox, Nomonhan: Japan against Russia 1939 (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford Uni­
versity Press, 1985), is the deﬁnitive study of this war. On casualty totals, see pp. 914–5.
2. Andrew Gordon, The Evolution of Labor Relations in Japan (Cambridge: Harvard
Council on East Asian Studies, 1985), pp. 300–310.
3. Cited in Thomas R. H. Havens, Valley of Darkness: Japanese Society in World War II(New York: W.W. Norton, 1978), p. 108.
4. Havens, Valley of Darkness, p. 109, for this and the previous quote of a government
bureaucrat. In fact, Tōjō was wrong about the United States, which never took the legal stepof drafting women into factories, although many American women were encouraged to take onindustrial jobs and did so.
5. Details of the election are found in Ben-Ami Shillony, Politics and Culture in Wartime
Japan (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1981), p. 26.
6. Haruko Cook and Theodore Cook, Japan at War: An Oral History (New York: New
Press, 1992), p. 180.

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Notes to Chapter 13

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¯
7. Kuruma Samezō worked at the Ohara
Institute of Social Research. His wartime labors
produced a set of index cards that were destroyed in the Tokyo air raids, but after the war heﬁnally completed the work; it was published in Japanese and German in the 1970s.
8. The author was Yamanoguchi Baku. Translated by Steve Rabson in Stone Lion Review
1 (Spring 1978): 28.
9. On the modernity debate of wartime, see Tetsuo Najita and H. D. Harootunian, “Jap­anese Revolt against the West,” in The Cambridge History of Japan, vol. 6, ed. Peter Duus
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), pp. 758–67. Quotes in this paragraph fromp. 759. A more difﬁcult but important study is Harry Harootunian, Overcome by Modernity:
History, Culture, and Community in Interwar Japan (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 2000).
10. Najita and Harootunian, “Japanese Revolt against the West,” p. 763.
11. Shillony, Politics and Culture in Wartime Japan, p. 142.
12. Shillony, Politics and Culture in Wartime Japan, p. 143.
13. Shillony, Politics and Culture in Wartime Japan, p. 144.
14. Shillony, Politics and Culture in Wartime Japan, pp. 144–5.
15. Cited in John W. Dower, Empire and Aftermath: Yoshida Shigeru and the JapaneseExperience (Cambridge,: Council on East Asian Studies Monographs, 1979), p. 290.
16. Cited in Dower, Empire and Aftermath, p. 265.
17. John W. Dower, War without Mercy (New York: Pantheon Books, 1986), p. 48.
18. No ﬁrm count of the comfort women is possible. George Hicks, “The ‘Comfort
Women,’ ” in The Japanese Wartime Empire, 1931–1945, ed. Peter Duus, Ramon H. Myers,
and Mark R. Peattie (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1996), pp. 305–23, offers theestimate of 100,000; Watanabe Kazuko, “Militarization, Colonialism, and the Trafﬁcking of
Women: ‘Comfort Women’ Forced into Sexual Labor for Japanese Soliders,” Bulletin of Con­
cerned Asian Scholars 26, no.4 (Oct.–Dec. 1994):3–17, estimates 200,000.
19. Noguchi Yukio, 1940-nen taisei: saraba “senji keizai” (Tokyo: Tōyō Keizai Shinpōsha, 1995), was a best-selling popular account. Numerous scholars in Japan and elsewhere
had developed the idea of a transwar political economy in the previous ﬁfteen or so years.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 13

1. For a fuller discussion of the surrender, see John W. Dower, Embracing Defeat: Japanin the Wake of World War II (New York: W.W. Norton, 1999), pp. 34–39. For the text of thesurrender, see Robert J. C. Butow, Japan’s Decision to Surrender (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford
University Press, 1967), pp. 1–4.
2. This is the very apt phrase of Theodore Cohen, a midlevel SCAP ofﬁcial. He wasreferring to the stance of the Japanese cabinet in 1946, but the statement applies equally to theemperor and his attitude. See Theodore Cohen, Remaking Japan: The American Occupation as
New Deal (New York: The Free Press, 1987), p. 262.
3. Dower, Embracing Defeat, pp. 187–8.
4. Dower, Embracing Defeat, pp. 139–48.
5. For example, see “Drastic Steps Set to Fight Food Lack,” Japan Times, June 6, 1946.
6. Kawasaki rōdō shi hensan iinkai, ed., Kawasaki rōdō shi (Kawasaki: pub, 1987),
pp. 7–8, 410.
7. Cohen, Remaking Japan, pp. 171, 179.
8. Dower, Embracing Defeat, pp. 145, 156 for the quotes in this paragraph.
9. Allied Council members were the United States, Great Britain, the Soviet Union, and356

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China. Far Eastern Commission members were Burma, Canada, China, France, India, the Neth­erlands, New Zealand, Pakistan, the Phillipines, the Soviet Union, the United Kingdom, andthe United States.
10. The supreme commander’s bureaucracy was also abbreviated GHQ (General Head­quarters). Thus the occupation leadership was variously labeled SCAP, SCAP-GHQ, or simply
GHQ.
11. Three died during the trial, and the two men found guilty only of conspiracy to wage
war received ﬁnite prison terms of seven and twenty years.
12. On MacArthur’s evangelism in Japan, see Ray A. Moore, “Reﬂections on the Oc­
cupation of Japan,” Journal of Asian Studies 38, no.4 (August 1979): 724, 729, and Richard
Finn, Winners in Peace: MacArthur, Yoshida, and Postwar Japan (Berkeley: University of Cal­
ifornia Press, 1992), pp. 62–63.
13. Dower, Embracing Defeat.
14. Cited in Bruce Cumings, “Japan in the World System,” in Postwar Japan as History,
ed. Andrew Gordon (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), p. 40.
15. Thomas R. H. Havens, Fire across the Sea: The Vietnam War and Japan, 1965–1975(Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1987), p. 93. Nippon Kōkan, Nippon Kōkan 40
nen shi (Kowasahi: 1952) (place: pub, year), p. 382.
16. John W. Dower, Empire and Aftermath: Yoshida Shigeru and the Japanese Experience(Cambridge: Harvard Council on East Asian Studies, 1980, p. 316. Nippon Kōkan, Nippon
Kōkan 40 nen shi, p. 382.
17. Dower, Empire and Aftermath, p. 306.

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NOTES TO CHAPTER 14

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1. Cited in Chalmers Johnson, MITI and the Japanese Miracle: The Growth of Industrial
Policy (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1982), p. 3. As noted in Chapter 11, a similar
expression was actually used by the economist Arisawa Hiromi to describe the Japanese econ­
omy in the 1930s, but the Economist story appears to be the ﬁrst postwar application of theterm.
2. Johnson, MITI and the Japanese Miracle, p. 16.
3. On TV prices and market penetration, see Simon Partner, Assembled in Japan: Elec­trical Goods and the Making of the Japanese Consumer (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1999), pp. 140, 166, 247. If American televisions in the year 2000 were priced as acomparable multiple of income, they would cost between $8,000 and $10,000 each! On overall
trends in consumer spending, see Charles Yuji Horioka, “Consuming and Saving,” in Postwar
Japan as History, ed. Andrew Gordon (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993).
4. Leonard Lynn, “Institutions, Organizations and Technological Innovation: Oxygen
Steelmaking in the U.S. and Japan” (Ph.D diss. 1980), pp. 124–33, 252.
5. Irokawa Daikichi, Shōwa shi: sesō hen (Tokyo: Shogakkan, 1990), pp. 25–32, on
births, weddings, deaths, funerals, and other rituals.
6. Irokawa, Shōwa shi: sesō hen, p. 27.
7. Walter Edwards, Modern Japan through its Weddings: Gender, Person, and Society in
Ritual Portray (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1989).
8. Thomas P. Rohlen, “Is Japanese Education Becoming Less Egalitarian? Notes on HighSchool Stratiﬁcation and Reform,” Journal of Japanese Studies 3, no. 1 (Winter 1977): 41.
9. See Sakiko Shioda, “Innovation and Change in the Rapid Economic Growth Period,”
in Technology Change and Female Labor in Japan, ed. Masanori Nakamura (Tokyo: United
Nations University, 1994), pp. 163–4.

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Notes to Chapter 14

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10. Erdman Palmore, The Honorable Elders: A Cross-Cultural Analysis of Aging in Ja­pan (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1975), p. 48.
11. Ezra Vogel, Japan’s New Middle Class: The Salary Man and His Family in a Tokyo
Suburb (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1963), brought this term to prominence inthe English-speaking world.
12. Vogel, Japan’s New Middle Class, pp. 175–8.
13. See Anne Allison, Nightwork: Sexuality, Pleasure, and Corporate Masculinity in a
Tokyo Hostess Club (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994).
14. Classic and recent studies of middle classes in urban Japan include Ronald Dore,City Life in Japan: A Study of a Tokyo Ward (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1958);
Theodore C. Bestor, Neighborhood Tokyo (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1989);
and Jennifer Roberston, Native and Newcomer (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991).
15. See Takafusa Nakamura, The Postwar Japanese Economy: Its Development andStructure (Tokyo: University of Tokyo Press, 1981), p. 183.
16. Koji Taira, Economic Development and the Labor Market in Japan (New York: Co­
lumbia University Press, 1970), p. 175, shows that workers at companies of 4 to 9 employees
received 50 percent of wages given to those at ﬁrms with over 1,000 workers. Those at com­panies of 50 to 99 workers received 63 percent of large ﬁrm wages.
17. On these legal battles and their results, see Frank Upham, “Unplaced Persons andStruggles for Place,” in Postwar Japan as History, ed. Andrew Gordon (Berkeley: Universityof California Press, 1993), pp. 335–7.
18. See Upham, “Unplaced Persons,” pp. 327–32.
19. Sheldon Garon, “Luxury Is the Enemy: Mobilizing Savings and Popularizing Thriftin Wartime Japan,” The Journal of Japanese Studies 26, no.1 (Winter 2000): 41–78, has somediscussion of postwar savings also.
20. On this movement, see Andrew Gordon, “Managing the Japanese Household: The
New Life Movement in Postwar Japan,” Social Politics 4, no. 2 (Summer 1997): 245–83.
21. The direct cause-and-effect relationship might be spurious, as the wedding came justas the television manufacturing industry was taking off in any case.
22. This is the so-called Engel coefﬁcient. Charles Horioka, “Consuming and Saving,”
in Postwar Japan as History, pp. 264–273.
23. The two major surveys on class structure and identity are Naikaku sōridaijin kanbō
chōkan kōhō shitsu, Kokumin seikatsu ni kan suru yoron chōsa (Tokyo: Naikaku sōridaijinkanbō chōkan kōhō shitsu, 1958–present), and 1975-nen SSM Zenkoku Chōsa Iinkai, ed.,Shakai kaisō to shakai idō: 1975-nen SSM zenkoku chōsa hōkoku (Tokyo: 1978). For English
language discussion of this survey and its implications, see Koji Taira, “The Middle-Class inJapan and the United States,” Japan Echo 6, no.2 (1979): 18–28, and Shigeru Aoki, “Debunking
the 90%-Middle-Class Myth,” Japan Echo 6, no. 2 (1979): 29–33.
24. These statements are taken from Yoshimoto Takaaki, “The End of a Fictitious Sys­tem,” in The Myth of Democracy (October 1960) and Maruyama Masao, “8/15 and 5/15,” ChūōKōron (August 1960), both translated in Theodore DeBary, Sources of the Japanese Tradition,
rev. ed. (New York: Columbia University Press, forthcoming).
25. Yoshimo, “The End of a Fictitious System,” and Maruyama, “8/15 and 5/15,” in
DeBary, Sources of the Japanese Tradition, rev. ed.
26. Matsushita Keiichi, “The Emperor System of the Masses,” Chūō kōron 74, no. 5(April 1959); portions are translated in DeBary, Sources of the Japanese Tradition, rev. ed.

358

N O T E S T O C H A P T E R 15

NOTES TO CHAPTER 15

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1. Together they won a total of 33.4 percent of the 467 seats. Right socialists won 67
seats; left socialists won 89 seats.
2. Laura Hein, “Growth versus Success,” in Postwar Japan as History ed. Andrew Gor­don (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), pp. 111–112.
3. For a good account of such groups, and the tension between “maternalism” and “equal­
ity” as grounds for action, see Kathleen S. Uno, “The Death of ‘Good Wife, Wise Mother’?”in Postwar Japan as History, pp. 308–12.
4. Uno, “The Death of ‘Good Wife, Wise Mother’?,” p. 309.
5. Economic Planning Agency, New Long-Range Economic Plan of Japan (1961–1970):
Doubling National Income Plan (Tokyo: 1961).
6. Chalmers Johnson, MITI and the Japanese Miracle (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford Uni­
versity Press, 1981), is the most important work on the developmental state.
7. Sheldon Garon and Mike Mochizuki, “Negotiating Social Contracts,” in Postwar Japan
as History, pp. 148–55.
8. Andrew Gordon, Wages of Afﬂuence (Cambridge,: Harvard University Press, 1998),
p. 47.
9. Andrew Gordon, “Contests for the Workplace in Postwar Japan,” in Postwar Japan as
History, p. 377.
10. Kumazawa Makoto, “Suto-ken suto: 1975 nen Nihon,” in Sengo rōdō kumiai undō
shiron, ed. Shimizu Shinzō (Tokyo: Nihon hyōronsha, 1982) pp. 486–8. On public sector unionsfrom 1949 through 1975, see Hyōdō Tsutomu, “Shokuba no rōshi kankei to rōdō kumiai,” inSengo rōdō kumiai undō shiron, pp. 245–58.
11. On the global context, see Charles Maier, “The Politics of Productivity: Foundationsof American International Economic Policy after World War II,” in Between Power and Plenty:
Foreign Economic Policies of the Advanced Industrial States, ed. Peter Katzenstein, (Place:
Madison University of Wisconsin Press, 1978).
12. Dōmei Kaigi is an abbreviation of Zen Nihon Rōdō Sōdōmei Kumiai Kaigi; the All
Japan Conference of Federated Labor Unions.
13. Ishida Hirohide, “Hoshutō no bijiyon,” Chūō kōron 78, no. 1 (January 1963): 88–97.
14. In Japanese, “Betonamu ni heiwa o! Shimin rengō.”
15. On the anti-war protests in general, see Thomas R. H. Havens, Fire across the Sea:
The Vietnam War and Japan, 1965–1975 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1987).
For these numbers, see pp. 133 and 207.
16. On the Narita protests, see David Apter and Sawa Nagayo, Against the State (Cam­bridge: Harvard University Press, 1984).
17. These all had precedents in the prewar era.
18. Minobe’s father was Minobe Tatsukichi, the scholar of constitutional law at Tokyo
University of the prewar era introduced in Chapter 11, who was ousted from his academic
position by right-wing critics for his slightly liberal views of the emperor’s position.
19. Unions in eight public enterprises participated: Japan National Railway, Tobacco
Monopoly, Postal Service, Nippon Telephone and Telegraph, Government Printing Ofﬁce, Na­tional Mint, Alcohol Sales Ofﬁce, Forestry Division.
20. Kumazawa Makoto, “Suto-ken suto,” in Sengo rōdō kumiai undō, pp. 491–503, on
the course of the strike and reasons for its failure.
21. On this episode, see “CIA Spent Millions to Support Japanese Right in ’50s and’60s,” New York Times (October 9, 1994), and “CIA Keeping Historians in the Dark about Its
Cold War Role in Japan,” Los Angeles Times (March 20, 1995).
22. E. O. Reischauer, “The Broken Dialogue with Japan,” Foreign Affairs (October 1960):
11–26.

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Notes to Chapter 16

23. Chalmers Johnson, Blowback: The Costs and Consequences of American Empire(New York: Metropolitan Books, 2000), p. 36.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 16

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1. For a dramatic telling of the automobile story, see David Halberstam, The Reckoning(New York: William Morrow, 1986).
2. This incident is examined in a prize-winning documentary ﬁlm by Christine Choy andRenee Tajima, Who Killed Vincent Chin? (1988).
3. Theodore H. White, “The Danger from Japan,” New York Times Magazine (July 28,1985), pp. 18–23, 27, 37–43, 57–58.
4. The participants were Canada, France, Germany, Great Britain, Italy, Japan, and theUnited States. Canada participated from the second meeting.
5. For a powerful statement of this position, see Ienaga Saburō, The Paciﬁc War (NewYork: Pantheon, 1978), translated from a 1968 Japanese book titled Taiheiyō sensō.
6. Ronald Dore, Stock Market Capitalism, Welfare Capitalism: Japan and Germany ver­sus the Anglo Saxons (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), p. 225.
7. The Japanese term is genryō keiei.
8. Paul Lillrank and Noriaki Kano, Continuous Improvement (Ann Arbor: Center forJapanese Studies, the University of Michigan, 1989), p. 1.
9. Karatsu Hajime, “Japanese Know-How for American Industry,” Japan Echo XIII, no.
4 (1986): 64. Translated from “Beikoku keizai no hatan” (“The Collapse of the American
Economy”), Voice (October 1986):115–25. Note the much gentler title for the English version.
10. For an analysis and overview of such work, see Peter N. Dale, The Myth of JapaneseUniqueness (London: Croon Helm & Nissan Institute for Japanese Studies, University of Ox­
ford, 1986). For reference to these speciﬁc examples, see pp. 16, 23, 65–67, 72–73, 189–90.
11. Takeo Doi, The Anatomy of Dependence (Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1973), orig­
inally published as Amae no kōzō (Tokyo: Kobundō, 1971).
12. Ezra F. Vogel, Japan as Number One (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1979).
The Japanese translation was published that same year. It reportedly sold over one million
copies, and was the best-selling work of translated nonﬁction ever in Japan.
13. Jacob Schlesinger, Shadow Shoguns: The Rise and Fall of Japan’s Postwar Political
Machine (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1997), p. 120.
14. See Sheldon Garon, Molding Japanese Minds (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 1997).
15. See Prime Minister’s Ofﬁce, Kankō hakusho (Tokyo: pub, 1991), pp. 37–40.
16. See National Defense Council for Victims of Karoshi, ed., Karōshi: When the “Cor­porate Warrior” Dies (Tokyo: Mado-sha, 1990), pp. 7, 12.
17. See “Friendly New U.S. Line in Trade Talks Strikes Some Japanese as Self-Serving,”
Wall Street Journal, September 14, 1989, p. A17.
18. New York Times, January 21, 1992, Section D, p. 1.
19. Kumazawa Makoto, Portraits of the Japanese Workplace (Boulder, Colo.: Westview
Press, 1996), p. 249.
20. Tsurumi Shunsuke, Sengo Nihon no taishū bunka-shi (A History of Mass Culture in
Postwar Japan) (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1984), pp. 189–90, cited in Kumazawa, Portraits of
the Japanese Workplace, p. 249. Translated into English as A Cultural History of Postwar Japan,
1945–1980 (London: KPI, 1987).
21. See Marilyn Ivy, “Formations of Mass Culture,” in Postwar Japan as History, ed,
Andrew Gordon (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), pp. 253–55, on these debates.
22. Ivy, “Formations of Mass Culture,” pp. 251, 256, on the ad campaigns. On rural

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tourist development projects, see Jennifer Robertson, “It Takes a Village: Internationalization
and Nostalgia in Postwar Japan,” in Mirror of Modernity, ed. Steven Vlastos (Berkeley: Uni­
versity of California Press, 1999), pp. 110–29.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 17

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1. Norma Field, In the Realm of a Dying Emperor: Japan at Century’s End (New York:
Vintage Books, 1991), pp. 19–25, on the emperor’s illness and resulting “self-restraint.” Chapter
III has the story of the statement by Mayor Motoshima of Nagasaki and the ensuing controversy.
2. Field, In the Realm of a Dying Emperor, pp. 233–4.
3. See “Ibento kankaku ki ni itta,” Sankei Shinbun, November 11, 1999, p. 28.
4. For an account of these decisions and their consequences, see Richart Taggart Murphy,
The Weight of the Yen: How Denial Imperils America’s Future and Ruins an Alliance (NewYork: Norton, 1996), Part III.
5. On the response to AIDS in Japan and this incident, see Eric A. Feldman, The Ritualof Rights in Japan: Law, Society and Health Policy in Japan (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2000).
6. This phrase, coined by John F. Neuffer, an American political and economic analyst
living in Japan, was ﬁrst quoted in a New York Times story of July 23, 1998, and very quickly
caught widespread attention.
7. See B. Meredith Burke, “Japan’s Baby Bust: A Brighter Prospect Than Ours?,” The
Japan Digest, July 11, 2000, p. 5.
8. The quote is from Kuronuma Katsushi, Enjo kōsai (Tokyo: Bungei Shunjū, 1996),
quoted in Kawai Hayao, “The Message from Japan’s Schoolgirl Prostitutes,” Japan Echo 24,
no. 2 (June 1997). Kawai is a well-known psychiatrist and public commentator who is among
those blaming the phenomenon on shallow relationships and a crisis of the soul.
9. “Shōnen kuaku jiken, piiku wa 40 nen mae,” Asahi Shinbun, October 11, 2000, p. 38.
10. Richard Katz, Japan: The System That Soured: The Rise and Fall of the Japanese
Economic Miracle (Armonk, N.Y.: M.E. Sharpe, 1998), and “The Lost Decade,” Newsweek,
July 27, 1998.
11. See David Asher and Robert H. Dugger, “Could Japan’s Financial Mount Fuji Blow
Its Top?” Working Paper Series, MIT Japan Program, May 15, 2000.
12. For a good summary of these prescriptions and an analysis of recent trends, see
Ronald Dore, Stock Market Capitalism, Welfare Capitalism: Japan and Germany versus theAnglo Saxons (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000).
13. The Japan Digest, June 27, 2000, p. 3.
14. Dore, Stock Market Capitalism, Welfare Capitalism, p. 105.
15. The Japan Digest, June 27, 2000, p. 4.
16. Dore, Stock Market Capitalism, Welfare Capitalism, pp. 111–23.
17. The Japan Digest, July 27, 2000, p. 5.
18. The Japan Digest, June 30, 2000, pp. 3–4.
19. “Kōkō no katei kyōkasho 4 satsu ga fugōkaku,” Asahi Shinbun, July 5, 1997, p. 25.
20. “Shōkaku danjo sabetsu ‘yurusarenu,’ ” Asahi Shinbun, International Satellite edition,
November 28, 1996, p. 22.
21. Mari Osawa, “Government Approaches to Gender Equality in the mid-1990s,” Social
Science Japan Journal 3, no. 1 (2000):3–19.
22. Ivan Hall, Cartels of the Mind: Japan’s Intellectual Closed Shop (New York: W.W.
Norton, 1998).
23. “Third country persons” (san koku jin) referred to people in the occupation era who

361

Notes to Chapter 17

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were neither Japanese nor SCAP personnel, and came to refer particularly to residents of theformer colonies of Korea and Taiwan.
24. For a full treatment of ethnicity and foreigners in Japan, see John Lie, Multiethnic
Japan (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2001).
25. See Edith Terry, How Asia Got Rich: Japan and the Asian Miracle (Armonk, N.Y.:
M.E. Sharpe, 1998).

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This page intentionally left blankSelect Bibliography

I.

GENERAL

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Dower, John. Embracing Defeat: Japan in the Wake of World War II. New York: W.W. Norton
and Co., 1999.
———. Japan in War and Peace: Selected Essays. New York: The New Press, 1993.
Duus, Peter, ed. The Twentieth Century. Vol. 6 of The Cambridge History of Japan. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1989.
Goldman, Merle, and Andrew Gordon, eds. Historical Perspectives on Contemporary East Asia.
Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2000.
Gluck, Carol, and Stephen R. Graubard, eds. Shōwa: The Japan of Hirohito. New York: W. W.
Norton and Co., 1992.
Hardacre, Helen. Shintō and the State, 1868–1988. Princeton, NJ.: Princeton University Press,
1989.
Iriye, Akira. China and Japan in the Global Setting. Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1993.
Jansen, Marius B., ed. The Nineteenth Century. Vol. 5 of The Cambridge History of Japan.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989.
Johnson, Chalmers. MITI and the Japanese Miracle: The Growth of Industrial Policy, 1925–
1975. Stanford, Calif: Stanford University Press, 1982.
Najita, Tetsuo. Japan. Englewood, N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1974.
Najita, Tetsuo, and Victor Koschmann. Conﬂict in Modern Japanese History: The Neglected
Tradition. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1982.
Totman, Conrad. Early Modern Japan. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993.

II.

TOKUGAWA JAPANA.

Society, Population and the Economy

Bix, Herbert P. Peasant Protest in Japan, 1590–1884. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press,
1986.
Crawcour, S. “The Tokugawa Period and Japan’s Preparation for Modern Economic Growth.”
Journal of Japanese Studies 1, no.1 (Autumn 1974):113–35.
Howell, David L. Capitalism from Within: Economy, Society, and the State in a Japanese Fish­ery. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995.
Jannetta, Ann Bowman. Epidemics and Mortality in Early Modern Japan. Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 1987.
McClain, James L. Kanazawa: A Seventeenth-Century Japanese Castle Town. New Haven,Conn.: Yale University Press, 1982.
Smith, T. C. The Agrarian Origins of Modern Japan. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press,
1959.

363

364

SE L E C T B IB L IO G R A P H Y———. Native Sources of Japanese Industrialization, 1750–1920. Berkeley and Los Angeles:
University of California Press, 1988.
Totman, Conrad. The Green Archipelago: Forestry in Preindustrial Japan. Berkeley: Universityof California Press, 1989.
Vlastos, Stephan. Peasant Protests and Uprisings in Tokugawa Japan. Berkeley: University ofCalifornia Press, 1986.
Wigen, Kären. The Making of a Japanese Periphery, 1750–1920. Berkeley: University of Cal­
ifornia Press, 1995.

B.

Politics

Thought and Culture

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Bolitho, Harold. Treasures among Men: The Fudai Daimyō in Tokugawa Japan. New Haven,
Conn: Yale University Press, 1974.
Hall, John W., and Marius B. Jansen, eds. Studies in the Institutional History of Early Modern
Japan. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1968.
Nakai, Kate Wildman. Shogunal Politics: Arai Hakuseki and the Premises of Tokugawa Rule.
Harvard East Asian Monographs 134. Cambridge: Harvard University, Council on East
Asian Studies, 1988.
Toby, Ronald. State and Diplomacy in Early Modern Japan: Asia in the Development of theTokugawa Bakufu. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984.
Totman, Conrad. Politics in the Tokugawa Bakufu. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1967.
Webb, Herschel. The Japanese Imperial Institution in the Tokugawa Period. New York: Colum­
bia University Press, 1968.

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Dore, Ronald. Education in Tokugawa Japan. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1965.
Elison, George. Deus Destroyed. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1974.
Harootunian, H. D. Things Seen and Unseen: Discourse and Ideology in Tokugawa Nativism.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988.
Kelly, William W. Deference and Deﬁance in Nineteenth-Century Japan. Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 1985.
Maruyama, M. Studies in the Intellectual History of Tokugawa Japan. Translated by Mikiso
Hane. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1974.
Najita, Tetsuo. Visions of Virtue in Tokugawa Japan. Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1987.
Ooms, Herman. Tokugawa Ideology: Early Constructs, 1570–1680. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton
University Press, 1985.
Wakabayashi, Bob Tadashi. Anti-Foreignism and Western Learning in Early-Modern Japan: The
New Theses of 1825. Cambridge: Harvard University, Council on East Asian Studies, 1986.

III.

THE BAKUMATSU AND MEIJI RESTORATION

Craig, Albert M. Chōshū in the Meiji Restoration. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1961.
Harootunian, H. D. Toward Restoration: The Growth of Political Consciousness in Tokugawa
Japan. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1970.
Huber, Thomas. The Revolutionary Origins of Modern Japan. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford Uni­
versity Press, 1981.
Jansen, Marius B. Sakamoto Ryōma and the Meiji Restoration. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford Uni­
versity Press, 1961.
Walthall, Anne. The Weak Body of a Useless Woman: Matsuo Taseko and the Meiji Restoration.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998.
Wilson, George M. Patriots and Redeemers in Japan, Motives in the Meiji Restoration. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1992.

365

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IV.
A.

MEIJI ERA
Society, Population, and the Economy

Politics and Foreign Policy

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Hirschmeier, Johannes. The Origins of Entrepreneurship in Meiji Japan. Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1964.
Moulder, Frances. Japan, China and the Modern World Economy. New York: Cambridge Uni­
versity Press, 1977.
Reischauer, Haru Matsukata. Samurai and Silk: A Japanese and American Heritage. Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1986.
Rosenstone, Robert A. Mirror in the Shrine: American Encounters with Meiji Japan. Cam­bridge: Harvard University Press, 1988.
Smith, Thomas C. Political Change and Industrial Development in Japan: Government Enter­
prise, 1868–1880. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1955.
Tsurumi, E. Patricia. Factory Girls: Women in the Thread Mills of Meiji Japan. Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 1990.
Wray, William D. Mitsubishi and the N.Y.K., 1870–1914: Business Strategy in the Japanese
Shipping Industry. Cambridge: Harvard University, Council on East Asian Studies, 1984.

atThought and Culture

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Akita, George. Foundations of Constitutional Government in Modern Japan, 1868–1900. Cam­bridge: Harvard University Press, 1967.
Conroy, Hilary. The Japanese Seizure of Korea, 1868–1910. Philadelphia: University of Penn­sylvania Press, 1960.
Hackett, R. F. Yamagata Aritomo in the Rise of Modern Japan, 1838–1922. Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1973.
Hall, Ivan. Mori Arinori. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1973.
Jones, Hazel L. Live Machines: Hired Foreigners and Meiji Japan. Vancouver: University of
British Columbia, 1980.
Pittau, J. Political Thought in Early Meiji Japan, 1868–1889. Cambridge: Harvard University
Press, 1967.

Arya

Bartholomew, James R. The Formation of Science in Japan. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University
Press, 1989.
Gluck, Carol. Japan’s Modern Myths: Ideology in the Late Meiji Period. Princeton, N.J.: Prince­
ton University Press, 1985.
Irokawa, Daikichi. The Culture of the Meiji Period. Translated and edited by Marius B. Jansen.
Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1985.
Ketelaar, James Edward. Of Heretics and Martyrs in Meiji Japan: Buddhism and Its Persecution.
Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1990.
Kinmonth, Earl H. The Self-Made Man in Meiji Japanese Thought: From Samurai to SalaryMan. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981.

V.

IMPERIAL ERA

A.

Politics, Foreign Policy, Colonialism, and Imperialism

Berger, Gordon. Parties Out of Power in Japan, 1931–1941. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton Uni­
versity Press, 1977.
Bix, Herbert. Hirohito and the Making of Modern Japan. New York: HarperCollins Publishers,
2000.
Borg, Dorothy, ed. Pearl Harbor as History: Japanese American Relations, 1931–1941. New
York: Columbia University Press, 1973.

366

SE L E C T B IB L IO G R A P H Y

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Choi, Chungmoo. The Comfort Women: Colonialism, War, and Sex. Durham, N.C.: Duke Uni­
versity Press, 1997. [Positions special issue 5, no. 1 (Spring 1997)].
Coox, Alvin D. Nomonhan: Japan against Russia, 1939. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University
Press, 1985.
Crowley, James. Japan’s Quest for Autonomy. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1966.
Dickinson, Frederick R. War and National Reinvention: Japan in the Great War, 1914–1919.
Cambridge: Harvard University Asia Center, 1999.
Dower, John. Empire and Aftermath: Yoshida Shigeru and the Japanese Experience. Cambridge:
Harvard University Council on East Asia Studies, 1979.
Duus, Peter. The Abacus and the Sword: The Japanese Penetration of Korea, 1895–1910. Berke­
ley: University of California Press, 1995.
———. Party Rivalry and Politics: Change in Taishō Japan. Cambridge: Harvard University
Press, 1968.
Fogel, Joshua, ed. The Nanjing Massacre in History and Historiography. Berkeley: Universityof California Press, 2000.
Fujitani, Takeshi. Splendid Monarchy: Power and Pageantry in Modern Japan. Berkeley, Los
Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 1996.
Iriye, Akira. After Imperialism: The Search for a New Order in the Far East, 1921–1931.
Harvard University Press, 1965.
Lewis, Michael. Becoming Apart: National Power and Local Politics in Toyama, 1868–1945.
Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2000.
Morley, James W., ed. Dilemmas of Growth in Prewar Japan. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton Uni­
versity Press, 1971.
Najita, Tetsuo. Hara Kei and the Politics of Compromise, 1905–1915. Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1967.
Ogata, Sadako. Deﬁance in Manchuria: The Making of Japanese Foreign Policy. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1964.
Peattie, Mark. Ishiwara Kanji and Japan’s Confrontation with the West. Princeton, N.J.: Prince­
ton University Press, 1975.
Pelz, Stephen. The Race to Pearl Harbor. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1971.
Silberman, Bernard, and H. D. Harootunian, eds. Japan in Crisis: Essays on Taishō Democracy.
Ann Arbor: Center for Japanese Studies, the University of Michigan, 1999.
Smith, Henry D. Japan’s First Student Radicals. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972.
Titus, David. Palace and Politics in Prewar Japan. New York: Columbia University Press, 1974.
Wilson, George. Radical Nationalist in Japan: Kita Ikki, 1863–1937. Cambridge: Harvard Uni­
versity Press, 1969.
Yamanouchi, Yasushi, Victor J. Koschmann, and Ryūichi Narita, eds. Total War and “Modern­ization.” Ithaca, N.Y.: East Asia Program, Cornell University, 1998.
Young, Louise. Japan’s Total Empire: Manchuria and the Culture of Wartime Imperialism.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998.

B.

EconomyBarnhart, Michael A. Japan Prepares for Total War: The Search for Economic Security 1919–
1941. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1987.
Ericson, Steven J. The Sound of the Whistle: Railroads and the State in Meiji Japan. Cambridge:
Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University Press, 1996.
Lockwood, William M., ed. The State and Economic Enterprise in Japan. Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 1965.
Marshall, Byron. Capitalism and Nationalism in Prewar Japan: The Ideology of the BusinessElite. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1967.

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Molony, Barbara. Technology and Investment: The Prewar Japanese Chemical Industry. Cam­bridge: Council on East Asian Studies: Harvard University Press, 1990.
Patrick, Hugh, ed. Japanese Industrialization and Its Social Consequences. Berkeley: Universityof California Press, 1976.
Smith, Kerry. A Time of Crisis: Japan, the Great Depression, and Rural Revitalization. Cam­bridge: Harvard University Press, 2001.
Wray, William D., ed. Managing Industrial Enterprise: Cases from Japan’s Prewar Experience.
Cambridge: Harvard University, Council on East Asian Studies, 1990.

C.

Society and Culture

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Barshay, Andrew E. State and Intellectual in Imperial Japan: The Public Man in Crisis. Berke­
ley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1989.
Bernstein, Gail. Japanese Marxist: A Portrait of Kawakami Hajime, 1879–1946. Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1976.
Dore, Ronald. British Factory–Japanese Factory: The Origins of National Diversity in Em­
ployment Relations. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973.
Dower, John W. War without Mercy: Race and Power in the Paciﬁc War. New York: Pantheon
Books, 1986.
Fogel, Joshua. Politics and Sinology: The Case of Naitō Konan (1866–1934). Cambridge: Har­vard University Press, 1984.
Garon, Sheldon. Molding Japanese Minds: The State in Everyday Life. Princeton, N.J.: Prince­
ton University Press, 1997.
———. The State and Labor in Modern Japan. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987.
Gordon, Andrew. The Evolution of Labor Relations in Japan: Heavy Industry, 1853–1955.
Cambridge: Harvard University, Council on East Asian Studies, 1985.
Havens, Thomas. Farm and Nation in Japan. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1975.
Hoston, Germaine A. Marxism and the Crisis of Development in Prewar Japan. Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 1986.
Lewis, Michael. Rioters and Citizens: Mass Protest in Imperial Japan. Berkeley: University ofCalifornia Press, 1990.
Mackie, Vera. Creating Socialist Women in Japan: Gender, Labour, and Activism, 1900–1937.
New York: Cambridge University Press, 1997.
Maruyama, Masao. Thought and Behavior in Modern Japanese Politics. London and New York:
Oxford University Press, 1963.
Minichiello, Sharon, ed. Japan’s Competing Modernities: Issues in Culture and Democracy,
1900–1930. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1998.
Mitchell, Richard H. Thought Control in Prewar Japan. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press,
1976.
Nolte, Sharon H. Liberalism in Modern Japan: Ishibashi Tanzan and His Teachers, 1905–1960.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986.
Pyle, Kenneth. The New Generation in Meiji Japan: Problems of Cultural Identity 1885–1895.
Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1969.
Roden, Donald. Schooldays in Imperial Japan: A Study in the Culture of a Student Elite.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980.
Sievers, Sharon L. Flowers in Salt: The Beginnings of Feminist Consciousness in Modern Japan.
Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1983.
Smith, Robert J., and Ella Lury Wiswell. The Women of Suye Mura. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1983.
Tanaka, Stefan. Japan’s Orient: Rendering Pasts in History. Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1993.

368

SE L E C T B IB L IO G R A P H Y

Tsutsui, William M. Manufacturing Ideology: Scientiﬁc Management in Twentieth-Century Ja­
pan. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1998.
Uno, Kathleen S. Passages to Modernity: Motherhood, Childhood, and Social Reform in Early
Twentieth Century Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1999.
Vlastos, Stephen, ed. Mirror of Modernity: Invented Traditions of Modern Japan. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1998.
Waswo, Ann. Japanese Landlords: The Decline of a Rural Elite. Berkeley: University of Cal­
ifornia Press, 1977.

VI.

POSTWAR AND CONTEMPORARY JAPAN

A. Government and Politics

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Allinson, Gary D. Japanese Urbanism: Industry and Politics in Kariya, 1872–1972. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1975.
———. Suburban Tokyo: A Comparative Study in Politics and Social Change. Berkeley: Uni­
versity of California Press, 1979.
Dower, John. Embracing Defeat: Japan in the Wake of World War II. New York: W.W. Norton
and Co., 1999.
George, Timothy. Minamata: Pollution and the Struggle for Democracy in Postwar Japan.
Cambridge: Harvard Asia Center, 2000.
Gordon, Andrew, ed. Postwar Japan as History. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993.
Gordon, Beate Sirota. The Only Woman in the Room. Tokyo, New York, and London: Kodansha
International, 1997.
Hein, Laura E. Fueling Growth: The Energy Revolution and Economic Policy in Postwar Japan.
Cambridge: Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University Press, 1990.
Masumi, Junnosuke. Contemporary Politics in Japan. Translated by Lonny E. Carlisle. Berke­
ley: University of California Press, 1995.
———. Postwar Politics in Japan, 1945–1955. Translated by Lonny E. Carlisle. Berkeley:
University of California, Institute of East Asian Studies, Center for Japanese Studies, 1985.
Moore, Joe. Japanese Workers and the Struggle for Power, 1945–1947. Madison: University of
Wisconsin Press, 1983.
Nakamura, Masanori. The Japanese Monarchy, 1931–1991: Ambassador Grew and the Makingof the “Symbol Emperor System.” Armonk, N.Y.: M.E. Sharpe, 1992.
Packard, George R. Protest in Tokyo: The Security Treaty Crisis of 1960. Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 1966.
Pempel, T. J. Policy and Politics in Japan: Creative Conservatism. Philadelphia: Temple Uni­
versity Press, 1982.
Pharr, Susan J. Losing Face: Status Politics in Japan. Berkeley: University of California Press,
1990.
Samuels, Richard J. “Rich Nation, Strong Army”: National Security and the TechnologicalTransformation of Japan. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1994.
Ward, Robert E., and Yoshikazu Sakamoto, eds. Policy Planning during the Allied Occupationof Japan. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1981.

B.

Economy and Society

Allinson, Anne. Nightwork: Sexuality, Pleasure, and Corporate Masculinity in a Tokyo HostessClub. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994.
Bestor, Theodore C. Neighborhood Tokyo. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1989.
Brinton, Mary C. Women and the Economic Miracle: Gender and Work in Postwar Japan.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993.

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Dore, Ronald P. British Factory—Japanese Factory: The Origins of National Diversity in In­
dustrial Relations. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973.
Edwards, Walter. Modern Japan through Its Weddings: Gender, Person, and Society in RitualPortrayal. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1989.
Fowler, Edward. San’ya Blues: Laboring Life in Contemporary Japan. Ithaca, N.Y., and Lon­don: Cornell University Press, 1996.
Gordon, Andrew. The Wages of Afﬂuence: Labor and Management in Postwar Japan. Cam­bridge: Harvard University Press, 1998.
Hardacre, Helen. Marketing the Menacing Fetus in Japan. Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1997.
Hunter, Janet, ed. Japanese Women Working. London and New York: Routledge, 1993.
Ishida, Hiroshi. Social Mobility in Contemporary Japan. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University
Press, 1993.
Johnson, Chalmers. MITI and the Japanese Miracle: The Growth of Industrial Policy, 1925–
1975. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1982.
Kondo, Dorinne K. Crafting Selves: Power, Gender, and Discourses of Identity in a JapaneseWorkplace. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990.
Kumazawa, Makoto. Portraits of the Japanese Workplace: Labor Movements, Workers and Man­
agers. Edited by Andrew Gordon and translated by Andrew Gordon and Mikiso Hane.
Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1996.
LeBlanc, Robin. Bicycle Citizens: The Political World of the Japanese Housewife. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1999.
McCormack, Gavan, and Yoshio Sugimoto, eds. Democracy in Contemporary Japan. Armonk
N.Y.: M.E. Sharpe, 1986.
Nakamura, Takafusa. The Postwar Japanese Economy: Its Development and Structure. Tokyo:
University of Tokyo Press, 1981.
Nakane, Chie. Japanese Society. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1972.
Norbeck, Edward, and Margaret Lock, eds. Health, Illness, and Medical Care in Japan: Culturaland Social Dimensions. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1987.
Ogasawara, Yūko. Ofﬁce Ladies and Salaried Men: Power, Gender, and Work in JapaneseCompanies. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998.
Partner, Simon. Assembled in Japan: Electrical Goods and the Making of the Japanese Con­
sumer. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000.
Patrick, Hugh, and Henry Rosovsky, eds. Asia’s New Giant: How the Japanese Economy Works.
Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution, 1976.
Pharr, Susan J. Political Women in Japan: The Search for a Place in Political Life. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1981.
Price, John. Japan Works: Power and Paradox in Postwar Industrial Relations. Ithaca, N.Y.:
Cornell University Press, 1997.
Robertson, Jennifer. Native and Newcomer: Making and Remaking a Japanese City. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1991.
Rohlen, Thomas P. Japan’s High Schools. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983.
———. For Harmony and Strength: Japanese White-Collar Organization in Anthropological
Perspective. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974.
Smith, Robert J. Kurusu: The Price of Progress in a Japanese Village, 1951–1975. Stanford,
Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1978.
Upham, Frank K. Law and Social Change in Postwar Japan. Cambridge: Harvard University
Press, 1987.
Vogel, Ezra F. Japan’s New Middle Class: The Salary Man and His Family in a Tokyo Suburb.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1971.

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SE L E C T B IB L IO G R A P H Y

Thought and Culture

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Burkman, Thomas W. The Occupation of Japan: Arts and Culture. Norfolk, Va.: Liskey Lith­ograph, 1988.
Cary, Otis, ed. War-Wasted Asia: Letters, 1945–46. Tokyo and New York: Kodansha Interna­
tional, 1975.
Field, Norma. In the Realm of a Dying Emperor: A Portrait of Japan at Century’s End. New
York: Pantheon Books, 1991.
Kersten, Rikki. Democracy in Postwar Japan: Maruyama Masao and the Search of Autonomy.
London and New York: Routledge, 1996.
Koschmann, Victor. Revolution and Subjectivity in Postwar Japan. Chicago: University of Chi­cago Press, 1996.
Krauss, Ellis S. Japanese Radicals Revisited: Student Protest in Postwar Japan. Berkeley: Uni­
versity of California Press, 1974.
Lifton, Robert J. Death in Life: The Survivors of Hiroshima. New York: Random House, 1968.
Olson, Lawrence. Ambivalent Moderns: Portraits of Japanese Cultural Identity. Lanham, Md.:
Rowman and Littleﬁeld Publishers, Inc., 1992.
Treat, John Whittier. Writing Ground Zero: Japanese Literature and the Atomic Bomb. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1995.
Tsurumi, Shunsuke. A Cultural History of Postwar Japan, 1945–1980. London: KPI Limited,
1987.

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D. Japan and the World

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Buckley, Roger. U.S.–Japan Alliance Diplomacy, 1945–1990. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer­sity Press, 1992.
Encarnation, Dennis J. Rivals beyond Trade: America versus Japan in Global Competition.
Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1992.
Havens, Thomas H. Fire across the Sea: The Vietnam War and Japan, 1965–1975. Princeton,
N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1987.
Hein, Laura, and Mark Selden, eds. Living with the Bomb: American and Japanese Cultural
Conﬂicts in the Nuclear Age. Armonk, N.Y.: M.E. Sharpe, 1997.
Miyoshi, Masao. Off Center: Power and Culture Relations between Japan and the United States.
Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1991.
Nagai, Yōnosuke, and Akira Iriye, eds. The Origins of the Cold War in Asia. New York: Co­
lumbia University Press, 1977.
Pyle, Kenneth B. The Japanese Question: Power and Purpose in a New Era. Washington, D.C.:
The AEI Press, 1992.
Schonberger, Howard B. Aftermath of War: Americans and the Remaking of Japan, 1945–1952.
Kent, Ohio: The Kent State University Press, 1989.

Index

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Ashio copper mine, 97
Asia, 210, 212, 295; colonial possessions in, 174;
effects of World War I in, 139; hegemony in,
74, 131, 180, 186, 208, 238; occupation ofSoutheast, 298; Soviet power in, 207; Western
power in, 207
Asian Monetary Fund, 331
Asō Hisashi, 197
assassinations, 182, 187, 189, 190, 195, 198, 200,
202, 279
assemblies, national, 78, 79, 83, 84, 85, 93
Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN),
297
Association to Write New Textbooks, 332
atomic bombs, 223, 224, 225, 227, 332; survivorsof (hibakusha), 274
Aum Shinrikyō, 318–19, 324
automobile industry, 248, 268, 293

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Abe Isoo, 134, 197
Abe Masahiro, 48, 51, 52
Abe Nobuyuki, 207
advertising industry, 266–67, 307
Agricultural Basic Law, 279
agriculture, 2, 95, 194, 307; mechanization of, 254;
rice, 4, 25, 26, 162, 214, 215, 279; inTokugawa period, 9, 27; wartime, 214, 215
AIDS (Acquired Immune Deﬁciency Syndrome),
319–20Ainu people, 17, 75, 259
air raids, 222, 225
Aizawa Saburō, 198
Aizawa Yasushi (Seishisai), 19, 44, 45, 52, 67, 77
Aizu domain, 52, 55, 56, 59
Akihito, Crown Prince, 265, 310, 311
Akutagawa Ryūnosuke, 159
Allied Council for Japan, 229; members of,
355n9b. See also Supreme Commander for the
Allied Powers
All-Japan Federation of Student Self-Governing
Associations (Zengakuren), 275, 283
Amaterasu, 6, 137
anarchism, 134, 167
The Anatomy of Dependence (Amae on kōzō; Doi
Takeo), 301
Ancient Learning (Kogaku), School of, 37, 43
Anglo-Japanese alliance (1902), 173
Anpo. See U.S.-Japan Security Treaty
Ansei Purge (1858), 54
Anti-Comintern Pact (1936), 207
anti-foreignism, 92
anti-modernism, 219–21
anti-nuclear movement, 274, 275
anti-tax movements, 125
Anti-Terrorism Law, 331
anti-treaty protests, 274, 276
anti-war movements, 275, 282–83, 285, 319
Arahata Kanson, 167
Araki Sadao, 180, 197, 198
Arisawa Hiromi, 192, 272
art, 38–39, 94, 109, 113; market in, 308; inTokugawa era, 160; ukiyo-e, 38, 108. See also
literature; music; theater
artisans, 15–16, 20, 36; traveling, 160
Asahara Shōko, 318–19
Asahi Shinbun (newspaper), 79
Asano zaibatsu, 231
Asanuma Inejirō
ASEAN. See Association of Southeast Asian
Nations

bakufu (tent government; military government), 3,
17, 56, 57; and foreign trade, 48–51;
Tokugawa, 11, 15, 37; and villages, 16, 26
bakumatsu (men of action), 81, 92
banking, 96, 97, 183, 248; 1927 crisis in, 140,
142, 143; in 1990s, 316–17, 325, 328
Bank of Taiwan, 142
Basic Law for a Gender-Equal Society (1999),
329
Beresford, Charles, 118
Berlin Wall, 310
Bikini Island, 274
biological warfare, 220
Bird, Isabella, 32
birth control, 264
birthrate, 304, 323, 329
black market, 228, 240
Black River Society, 167
Bolsheviks, Russian, 167, 175
Bose, Subhas Chandra, 211
Boxer Rebellion (China), 120
Buddhism, 4–5, 35, 154, 188; and Christianity,
111; and Confucianism, 6, 36; and festivals,
253, 255; ikkō (single-minded) sects of, 10;
Nichiren, 5, 261; and popular religions, 45,
159; Pure Land, 5; and Shinto, 110; temples
of, 17, 261; Zen, 5, 35
bullet train, 254, 255, 266
bunraku puppet theater, 39–40, 81–83, 94
Buraku Liberation League, 262
burakumin (village people), 65, 154, 259, 261–62
Buraku Special Measures Law (1969), 262

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Cabinet Planning Bureau, 194, 212
cabinets: and professional politicians, 196–97;
transcendental (1922–24), 171
Campaign for Economic Revitalization, 195
Canada, 356n9a, 359n4
capitalism, 7, 119, 167, 194, 197, 236, 271, 287;
and Confucianism, 99–100; and Depression,
183, 189; free-market, 192, 214; global, 321;
humanized, 269; industrial, 70, 71, 97, 114,
123, 135, 290; insecurities of, 160; Japanesestyle, 99, 291, 327; managed, 250–51; of Meiji
era, 98; state-controlled, 212. See also
economy; labor“The Cardinal Principles of the National Polity”(Kokutai no hongi), 199
cartels, 193–94, 213, 250
castle towns, 15, 20–21, 27, 28, 53
Catholicism, 3, 17
censorship, 42, 85, 179, 199, 217, 231, 298
CGP. See Clean Government Party
Chamberlain, Basil Hall, 61–62
Chaplin, Charlie, 156, 200
Charter Oath (1868; Five-Article Oath), 78–79
chemical industry, 194, 217
Chiang Kai-shek, 176–77, 187, 204, 207
Chichibu uprising, 87, 88, 96
Chikamatsu Monzaemon, 40
China: 1911 revolution in, 173, 176; and Allied
Council for Japan, 356n9a; classic texts in, 6;
communists in, 239; criticism of Japanese
textbooks by, 332; demonstrations in, 178;
diplomatic relations with, 18; examination
system in, 5, 41; and Far Eastern Commission,
356n9a; and Japan, 3–4, 75, 115–20, 173–74,
176, 182, 197, 238; Japanese militaryintervention in, 165, 190–92; Japanese
occupation of, 204, 206, 211, 214, 224, 297,
298, 332; Japanese trade with, 33, 42, 96, 272;
and Korea, 116, 117, 118, 178–79, 192;
nationalism in, 178, 180, 209; Nixon visit to,291; Opium Wars in, 48, 50, 176; People’s
Republic of (PRC), 242, 246, 291, 292; Qing
dynasty in, 18, 116, 173, 176, 189; renamingof “invasion” of, 297; Republic of (Taiwan),
242; and Soviet Union, 206; T’ang dynasty in,
6; textile mills in, 140; tribute system in, 4,
18, 116; and Twenty-One Demands, 162, 173–
74; and the West, 219. See also Sino-Japanese
War; Taiwan
Chinese Nationalist Party (Kuomintang), 176, 180,

186, 187, 190; and communists, 239; andJapanese invasion of China, 204, 206, 207; andU.S., 208, 239
Chiossone, Eduardo, 69
Chisso Chemical Fertilizer, 194
Chōshū domain, 52–59, 61, 63, 64, 66, 72, 73, 81
Christianity, 3, 15, 17, 77, 110, 111, 234
Christian Women’s Reform Society, 274
Chun Doo Hwan, 297
Churchill, Winston, 239
Chūshingura (Kabuki play), 40
cities, 28, 32, 148–54, 160, 259; entertainment
quarters of, 38, 40; life in, 7, 9, 16; migration
to, 95; Tokugawa, 23, 160; vs. countryside,
139, 195, 254. See also middle classcitizen movements, 282, 283, 285, 287
Citizen’s Federation: Peace to Vietnam!
(Beheiren), 282, 283
citizenship law, 304
Clean Government Party (CGP; Kōmeito Party),
286–87, 302, 314, 316, 321, 322, 323
Cold War, 239, 270, 289, 312, 313, 315, 321, 330
Collected Works of Contemporary Japanese
Literature, 160
colonialism, 74–75, 173–81, 211, 224, 298. See
also imperialism
Comintern, 168
Commoner News (Heimin Shinbun), 134
commoners (heimin), 15–16, 33, 78, 85; criticism
of, 44, 67; in Meijii era, 65, 164; and politicalrallies, 126, 135; Tokugawa, 77, 160
communism, 134, 158, 167, 198, 199, 207;
containment of, 272; crackdown on, 239–40;
and dissent, 113; and militant unionism, 235;
opposition to, 240, 273, 282, 289; support of,302; threat of, 330. See also Japan Communist
Party
communist movement, 176, 186, 237, 238
Conditions in the West (Fukuzawa), 80
Confucianism, 4–6, 42, 53, 83, 99, 105; andBuddhism, 6, 36; neo-, 5, 6, 35, 36, 37; andTokugawa social order, 16, 41
Confucius, 36, 37
constitution, 80–85, 90, 91, 105, 111, 114; andDiet, 126, 131, 230, 272; and emperor, 107,
112, 165; and gender equality, 304; postwar,
230–31, 236, 240, 242, 243, 272, 287; andpublic support for treaties, 119; and religious
freedom, 110; revision of, 272–73, 279, 303;and succession law, 312
construction industry, 301, 302
consumer electronics, 248, 267, 305
consumerism, 249, 252, 259, 267, 268, 269, 285,
307
control associations, 213. See also cartels
Control Faction (tōsei-ha), 198
Council for Gender Equality, 329
cram schools, 308
crime, juvenile, 324–25
culture, 4, 113, 266, 300; attack on Western, 219;
commercial, 267, 269; kasutori, 229; mass,
307; mechanization of material, 199–200;
Meiji period, 94, 108; popular, 201–2, 219;
and social change, 154–55, 269; Westerniza­Hisbureaucracy, 15, 64, 123, 127, 129, 172, 188, 279;
and big business, 236, 243; corruption in, 319–
20; and Diet, 165; economic, 212; and freemarket, 214, 236; meritocratic, 202; in
Occupation, 236, 242; and political parties,
130, 262; and politicians, 136, 169; vs. private
sector, 150
Burma, 177, 210, 211, 356n9a
business, 183, 217, 243, 263, 271; andgovernment, 250–51, 262; in Occupation, 235,
240; quality control in, 299–300; small, 148,
149, 213, 252, 259, 279–80; and unions, 172,
279

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daimyō (military lords), 3, 10, 11, 12, 44, 49, 78;
abolition of domains of, 13, 63, 65; andalternate attendance, 13–14, 21; debts of, 29,34; descendants of, 314; fudai, 13, 52;
pensions of, 70; and samurai, 9, 15, 20; tax
payments of, 25, 26; tozama (outer), 13, 19,55; traveling, 24
danchi (apartment blocks), 257“The Danger from Japan” (White), 294
Dan Takuma, 187, 350n5
Darwinism, social, 79
Date Masao, 202
datsu-sara (escape from salary), 268
Dazai Osamu, 229
de Gaulle, Charles, 250
Dejima island, 17demilitarization, 229–30
democracy, 126, 170, 189, 239, 240, 264, 267;
imperial, 161, 171, 172, 173, 181, 182, 234;
and U.S. occupation of Japan, 230, 231. See
also Taishō democracy
Democratic Party (Minshutō), 237, 238, 271
Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ), 322, 323, 325
Democratic Socialist Party (DSP), 281, 282, 321
democratization, 229, 232; vs. promotion of
economic recovery, 215
Department Store Law, 280
Depression, 182–86; responses to, 186–203
Diet, 78, 123, 212, 217; 1937–38 session of, 216;
and bureaucrats, 162, 164, 165; and cabinet
ministers, 92, 127; composition of, 93, 126;and constitution, 126, 230; elections to, 127–
28, 163, 216, 270, 271, 303, 313, 323; andfactory laws, 171, 172; and health insurance
laws, 171, 172; and military, 127, 162, 165;
politics of, 126–31, 242, 279; powers of, 93,
119; and renewed U.S.-Japan Treaty, 276, 283;
and succession law, 312; support of, 118; andtaxes, 127; and women, 90, 236
discrimination, 154, 231, 260–61, 262, 304, 327,
328–29Dodge, Joseph, 241
Dodge line program, 241
Doi Takako, 313
Doi Takeo, 301
domains, 3, 14, 43, 62; abolition of, 13, 63, 65;
fudai, 52; and samurai, 21, 105. See also
Satsuma domain; Tosa domainDōmei Kaigi, 281, 282
Dōshikai party, 162, 163, 174, 180
Dulles, John Foster, 241
Dutch, 17, 21, 35, 44, 48, 207, 209, 210
Dutch learning, 44

Economic Planning Agency, 250, 272
Economist (magazine), 246
economy: 1860s to 1890s, 94, 97; 1910s-1920s
boom of, 139; 1990s recessions of, 316, 325;
attitude toward Japanese, 317, 323, 327;
competition in, 327; consumer, 217, 220, 305;
crisis in, 182; debt in, 248, 326, 328;
domestic, 142, 192; end of boom in, 140, 314–
20; and foreign investment, 71–72, 294; andforeign policy, 331; and free competition, 193;
global, 246, 272, 281, 294, 298, 309; and gold
standard, 140, 182–83, 192–93, 291; growing
power of, 268, 298, 308; and imperialism, 142;
independent Japanese, 272; informationintensive, 328; new vs. old, 325–26; postwar
boom (“economic miracle”) in, 243, 245–51,
260, 270, 294, 309; and postwar industrial
policy, 193, 225; and price controls, 217, 279;
pride in achievements in, 266; and savings,
249, 262; state guidance of, 193, 225, 279,
327; and transparency, 327; transwar political,
250. See also industries; inﬂation; trade; wages;
zaibatsu
Edo, 2, 13–17, 22, 24; in 1600s, 16, 20; in 1700,
23; in 1800s, 61; alternate attendance in, 13–
14, 17, 21; Dutch tribute missions to, 21;
entertainment quarters of, 38; food riots in, 51;
Matthew Perry in, 49
education, 83, 95, 243, 298, 328; compulsory, 67–
68, 76, 85, 93, 105, 136, 231, 248; control of,
231, 236–37, 242; employee, 300; hierarchy
based on, 251–52, 254, 255, 263; higher, 106–8, 255, 259, 263, 324; Imperial Rescript on,
105–6, 107, 111, 112, 113; mass, 67, 105–6;
music, 108; and social policy, 262–63; spreadof, 43, 105–8, 167; and testing skills, 308;
vocational, 150, 259; of women, 67, 68, 89,
90, 102, 106, 113, 151, 155, 231, 263. See
also Ministry of Education; school system
Eisenhower, Dwight, 276
Election Puriﬁcation Campaign, 196
elections, 169, 173, 196; to Diet, 127–28, 163,
216, 270, 271, 303, 313, 323; and DSP, 282;
laws on, 93; postwar, 237, 238
electric power industry, 193–94
electronics industry, 260, 293, 326
emigration, 120, 121, 177
emperor, 2–3, 14, 35, 43, 134, 170; and 1959
royal wedding, 269; and constitution, 107,
112, 165, 199, 272–73; death of, 310–11; andeducation, 105, 106; and Japanese surrender,
224, 226–27; and loyalist samurai, 53; Meiji,
69–70, 129; and military, 93, 123, 180–81,
188, 198, 209, 269; and obedience to state,
112; and oligarchs, 130; and power, 61; roleof, 68, 77, 83–84, 112, 114, 123, 171, 199,
219, 239, 269, 272; and shogunal ruler, 36, 41;
sovereignty of, 58, 77, 92–93, 169; support
for, 131; as symbol, 231; Taishō, 129, 352n1;
as transcendent, 199; vs. democracy, 181;
Western haircut of, 89, 113; women as, 312;
worship of, 287
empress, 68, 113
Encouragement of Learning (Fukuzawa), 80

H
istion of Japanese, 108–9; and women, 155;
youth, 305, 306
currency, 140, 182–83, 192–93, 291

earthquakes, 140, 154, 170, 318, 325
Echizen domain, 52, 78
economic development, 72, 98, 142–43, 178, 192,
279. See also economy“economic miracle.” See economy: postwar boom
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GATT. See General Agreement on Tariffs andTradegeba (tactic of armed struggle), 283
geisha, 145, 258
gender roles, 7, 31–32, 39, 88, 112, 134, 152, 156;and business, 252, 263; diversity in, 328; andequality of women, 74, 89, 90, 119, 231, 291,
304, 329; fear of breakdown in, 203, 215; andgovernment, 263, 313; postwar, 225, 259. See
also women
General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT),
246, 315
General Council of Trade Unions of Japan(Sōhyō), 273, 277, 280, 281, 282
General Theory of Employment, Interest andMoney (Keynes), 193
Gensuikyō. See Japan Council Against Atomic andHydrogen Bombs
Gentleman’s Agreement (1908), 121–22, 177
Genyōsha, 92
Germany, 118, 119, 359n4; fascist system of, 182,
202–3; and Japan in World War I, 173, 174;
Nazi, 207, 212, 213, 216; recovery in, 289;
Siemens corporation in, 162; surrender of, 223;
uniﬁcation of, 310
Gin-bura (Ginza cruising), 155
giri vs. ninjo (duty vs. human feeling), 40
Gotō Shōjirō, 58
government, 181, 220, 237, 285, 286;
authoritarian rule in, 212, 320; as businessbooster, 250–51; “by assassination,” 166;
coalition, 321–22, 323; constitutional, 162,
163, 164, 169, 196, 199; corruption in, 302,
313–14; and economy, 249–50, 327; andgender roles, 263; imperial democratic, 169–73;
party, 162, 169; retrenchment in, 182, 183;
spending of, 193; structure of parliamentary,
165–67
Grant, Ulysses, 109
Gratitude Societies (Hōtokukai), 136, 137

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Factory Act (1911), 127
factory councils, 153
factory laws, 127
families: extended, 252, 254, 256; nuclear, 252,
254, 256, 257, 263, 265; and role ofhomemaker, 252–53
famine, 28–29, 32, 34, 211, 228
Far Eastern Commission, 229; members of, 3569a
farmers, 10, 15, 16, 36, 71; and Depression, 183;
educated, 43; increased output of, 95; andland, 42, 167, 230, 231; and landlords, 145–46;
number of, 26, 254; owner, 188, 279; andpolitical participation, 81; and popular rights
activism, 88; practices of, 26, 29; productivityof, 144–45; protection of, 315; and samurai,
10, 20, 87; small-scale family, 94, 252;
standard of living of, 144, 145; and students,
285, 286; and sumptuary laws, 40; in
Tokugawa era, 160; wealthy, 88, 147. See alsotenant farmers
fascism, 182, 196, 202–3, 216
Federation for Patriotic Industrial Service (Sangyō
hōkoku renmei; Sanpō), 196, 213–14, 217, 235
feminism, 119, 134, 136, 167, 168–69, 328; andbirthrate, 304; and constitution, 236; anddissent, 113; Japanese, 274–75, 304, 331;
organizations of, 217, 274; scholars of, 329
Fenellosa, Ernest, 109, 113, 300
Field, Norma, 311
Fifteen-Year War (1931–World War II), 189
Financial Reconstruction Commission (FRC), 325
Financial Revitalization Law, 325
First National Bank (Japan): Korean branches of,122
Five-Article Oath (1868; Charter Oath), 78–79
Five-Year Plans, 194, 250
Food Control Law (1942), 214–15
Footprints in the Snow (Tokutomi Roka), 66, 67
foreign capital, 71–72
foreign direct investments (FDI), 294
foreigners, 17–19, 46, 329–30. See also
immigration

Foreign Ministry, 239
foreign policy, 127, 173, 174, 180, 187–89; andeconomy, 331; Tokugawa, 17–19. See also
imperialism
Formosa. See Taiwan
France, 75, 83, 118, 119, 356n9a, 359n4; alliancewith Japan (1907), 177; in Indochina, 207,
208, 298; and Tokugawa reformers, 46; Vichy
regime in, 208
Friendly Society (Yūaikai), 135, 150, 152. See
also Greater Japan Federation of Labor
Friends of Constitutional Government (Rikken
Seiyūkai). See Seiyūkai“From the Caramel Factory” (Sata Ineko), 151
Fuji Bank, 308
Fuji Spinning Company, 185
Fujiwara Seika, 36
fukoku kyōhei (rich country, strong army), 70
Fukuda Hideko, 89, 90, 117
Fukuda Takeo, 297, 302
Fukumoto Kazuo, 168
Fukuzawa Yukichi, 79, 80, 83, 89, 116
furitaa (free-lancer), 305
Futabatei Shimei, 108Hisenergy, alternative sources of, 288
entrepreneurship, 99, 248; postwar, 227
environment, 283–84, 285, 286, 289, 290, 302
Equal Employment Opportunity Law for Men and
Women (EEOL; 1985), 304, 329
equality, 157, 167, 173, 174, 225, 255, 274, 329;
between men and women, 74, 89, 90, 119,
231, 291, 304, 329
eta (outcaste group), 16, 65
Etorofu islands, 48
Etō Shinpei, 85
Europe, 22, 59, 62, 67, 139, 268, 289, 298
examinations, Japanese civil-service, 64, 127
exports, 119, 120, 208, 249, 272, 291; in 1930s,
192, 193; to Asia, 295; of automobiles, 315,
317; cotton, 96, 139, 192; to Korea, 115, 241,
248; and Korean War, 241; of laborers, 95,
115; and money supply, 182, 183; silk, 95, 96,
140; of steel, 315; textile, 115, 176; to U.S.,
292, 293; wage demands in, 288
extraterritoriality, 50, 115, 119, 274
Ezo. See Hokkaido

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Ibuka Masaru, 248
Ichimaru (geisha), 156
Ida, town of, 25
Ienaga Saburō, 124
Ihara Saikaku, 38
Ii Naosuke, 54–55
Ikeda Hayato, 250, 279, 282, 301
ikkō (single-minded) sects. See Buddhism
IMF. See International Monetary Fundimmigration, 154, 324, 329, 330
Immigration Act (1924; U.S.), 177
imperialism, 125, 142, 162, 181; American, 279;
and Anglo-American power, 203; Japanese, 7,115, 122, 123, 136, 139, 160, 177, 179, 180,
189, 226, 331; post–World War I, 174–75;
Western, 4, 74, 179, 180, 189, 211, 298, 332
Imperial Middle Class Federated Alliance, 183
Imperial Military Reserve Association (Teikoku
zaigo gunjinkai), 136
Imperial Rescript on Education (1890), 105–6,
107, 111, 112, 113
Imperial Rule Assistance Association (IRAA),
216, 217, 237
Imperial Way faction (kōdō-ha), 197, 198, 199
Imphal Campaign, 211
Important Industries Control Law (1931), 193
Important Industries Control Order (1941), 213
imports, 95, 120, 272, 292–93, 295, 313; growthof, 119; from Korea, 115, 116; rice, 315; andtariffs, 99, 119, 193, 250
In Afﬁrmation of the Great East Asia War(Hayashi Fusao), 298“In a Grove” (Akutagawa), 159–60
India, 177, 211, 219, 356n9a
India National Army, 211, 224
individualism, 195, 199, 216
Indochina, 207, 208, 209, 211
Indonesia, 211
industrial associations, 213
Industrial Bank of Japan, 309
Industrial Development Bank, 248
Industrial Patriotic Federation. See Federation for
Patriotic Industrial Service
industrial revolution, 7, 94, 96–100, 123
industries: investment in, 249, 298–99;
manufacturing, 30, 259, 260; nationalizationof, 194, 197, 238; rational control of, 212
infanticide, 29, 32
inﬂation, 95, 96, 214, 217; in nineteenth century,
51; postwar, 235, 240, 249, 254, 256; intwentieth century, 139–40, 162, 287, 288, 298;
in twenty-ﬁrst century, 326

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Hagerty, James, 276
hai-tekku (high-tech), 308
Hakodate, 49
Hall, John W., 19
Hamaguchi Osachi, 172, 182, 188; assassinationof, 187
Hanihara Masanao, 177
Hara Kei, 128–29, 130, 131, 158, 162, 349n11b;
assassination of, 163, 166; and formation of
cabinet, 166; and international peace
conference, 175; and Korea, 178; and steel
strike, 163, 170; and suffrage, 171; and theWest, 176
harakiri (seppuku; suicide), 269
Harmonization Society, 171
Harris, Townsend, 14, 50, 52, 53, 54
Hasegawa Machiko, 265
Hashimoto Ryūtarō, 301, 317, 322, 325, 329
Hata Tsutomu, 321
Hatoyama Ichirō, 270, 271, 272
Hayashi academy, 36
Hayashi Fusao, 298, 332
Hayashi Razan, 36
Hayashi Senjūrō, 196–97
health insurance, 171, 172, 286
heavy industries, 99, 194, 217, 246
Hegel, Georg Wilhelm, 109
Heian era, 4, 64, 218
Heidegger, Martin, 220
Heisei emperor, 310, 311, 312
hibakusha (atomic bomb survivors), 274
Hibiya anti-treaty riot (1905), 125, 131, 133
hierarchy, 32, 35, 145, 146, 148, 199, 203, 256;
education-based, 251–52, 254, 255, 263
hinin (nonpersons), 16
Hiranuma Kiichirō, 207
Hirasawa Keishichi, 135, 170
Hirata Atsutane, 43, 51
Hiratsuka Raichō, 169
Hirohito, Emperor, 161, 165, 166, 223, 238, 265;
announcement of surrender by, 226–27; deathof, 310–11; and South Korea, 297; and Tanaka
Giichi, 187
Hiroshige, 39
Hiroshima, 223, 225, 274, 332
Hirota Kōki, 196
Hitler, Adolf, 11, 203, 207, 208, 216
Hizen domain, 53, 63, 84
Hokkaido (Ezo), 1, 17, 48, 75, 97
Hokusai, 24

Home Ministry, 127, 136, 159, 166, 185, 196,
213, 215; bureaucrats in, 172, 214, 235; Social
Affairs Bureau in, 171, 172; and unions, 195
Honda Sōichirō, 248
Honshu, 1, 2, 17, 33
Hosokawa Morihiro, 314, 321, 322
Hotta Masayoshi, 52, 54
House of Peers, 93, 126, 166, 199
House of Representatives, 93, 126, 166, 238, 303,
313, 322, 323. See also Diet
Housewives Association (Shufuren), 274
housing policy, 262, 285

HisGreat Britain, 48, 172, 182, 190, 194, 355n9b,
356n9a, 359n4; and Japan, 17, 46, 115, 117,
119, 120, 136, 137, 173, 174, 207, 209, 210
Greater East Asia Coprosperity Sphere, 210, 211,
224
Greater East Asian Ministry, 211
Greater Japan Federation of Labor (Dai Nihon
Rōdō Sōdōmei), 152, 153, 179. See also
Friendly Society
The Greater Learning for Females (Kaibara), 31
Great Treason Incident (1911), 134
Green Cross Company, 319–20
Grew, Joseph, 239
Gulf War (1991), 315–16, 330

376

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Inoue Enryō, 111
Inoue Junnosuke, 187
Inoue Kaoru, 73, 91, 348n13
Inoue Kowashi, 84, 92
intellectuals, 212, 218–19, 220, 237
International Military Tribunal for the Far East
(Tokyo Trial), 230
International Monetary Fund (IMF), 331
Inukai Tsuyoshi, 156, 188; assassination of, 189,
195, 200
IRAA. See Imperial Rule Assistance Association
Ise Shrine, 6, 35, 45, 110
Ishihara Shintarō, 329–30
Ishii-Lansing agreement, 174
Ishiwara Kanji, 188, 207
Israel, 287
Itagaki Taisuke, 74, 81, 85, 128
itai-itai byō (“it hurts disease”), 284
Italy, 182, 202–3, 208, 212, 289, 359n4
Itō Hirobumi, 54, 84, 105, 112, 117, 128, 165,
348n13; drafting of constitution, 92, 123; inEurope, 73; in Korea, 122–23; and Mitsui
Trading Company, 97; and Russia, 121
Itō Noe, 170
Itsukaichi document, 84. See also constitution
Iwakura Mission (1871–73), 73, 74, 88, 91
Iwakura Tomomi, 66, 73
Iwasaki family, 143
Iwasaki Yatarō, 163
Iwasaki zaibatsu, 231
Izu peninsula, 50

job security, 281, 300
Johnson, Lyndon, 289
jorūri (puppet theater), 109
JSP. See Japan Socialist Partyjūshin (senior statesmen), 166

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Kabuki theater, 16, 38, 39, 40, 41, 109
Kaempfer, Englebert, 21
Kagoshima, secession of, 86–87
Kaifu Toshiki, 313
Kaishintō. See Progressive Party
Kaitokudō Merchant Academy, 38
Kaizōsha (publishing company), 160
kakure kurushitan (hidden Christians), 110
Kamimura Hideji, 146, 147
Kamino Shin’ichi, 179
kami (Shinto divinities), 6, 110
Kanemaru Shin, 313, 314
Kan Naoto, 319, 322
Kanno Suga, 134
Kansai Plain, 2Kansei reforms, 42
Kant, Immanuel, 108
Kantō region, 3, 11, 87; 1923 earthquake in, 140,
154, 170
Karatsu Hajime, 300
karōshi (“death from overwork”), 305–6
Katayama Sen, 134–35
Katayama Tetsu, 238
Katō Takaaki (Komei), 163, 164, 166, 172, 174,
180
Katō Tomosaburō, 163
Katsu Kaishū, 53–54, 57, 58
Katsura Tarō, 128, 129, 130–31, 134, 162, 348n13
Kawai Eijirō, 199
Keio University, 83, 220
Kennan, George, 241
Kennedy, John F., 289
Kenseikai (Constitutional Politics Association),
163, 164, 166, 170, 172. See also Minseitō
Kenseikai/Minseitō governments, 176
Kenzō Tange, 266
Keynes, John Maynard, 193, 354n12
Kido Kōin, 63, 66, 67, 70, 73, 74
Kido Shiro, 156
Kigensetsu (Origin Day), 287
Kii domain, 52
Kim Dae Jung, 296
Kim Ok-kyun, 116
Kingu magazine (Kodansha), 159
Kishida Toshiko, 89–90
Kishi Nobusuke, 212, 276, 301
Kita Ikki, 167, 179
Kiyoura Keigo, 163
Kobayashi Takiji, 147, 198
Kobe, 71; earthquake in, 318, 325
kōbu gattai (unity between court and bakufu), 55
Kogaku (Ancient Learning), 37, 43
Kōgisho (national deliberative assembly), 79
Koiso Kuniaki, 223
Koizumi Junichirō, 323
Kojiki, 43
Kojong, King (Korea), 116, 178
Kokoro (Natsume), 106–7, 129
kokumin (the people), 135

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Japan: geography and climate of, 1–2; global roleof, 330; political institutions of, 2–3;
“subordinate independence” of, 270, 276, 289
Japan as Number One (Vogel), 301
Japan Communist Party (JCP), 153, 167–68, 186,
231, 232, 271; crackdowns on, 170, 239; andlabor unions, 237, 239, 273, 275
Japan Council Against Atomic and Hydrogen
Bombs (Gensuikyō), 274
Japan Council of the International Metal Workers
Union (IMF-JC), 282, 288
Japanese-American commercial treaty, 208“Japanese enlightenment” (1870s), 79–80
Japanese identity (Japanese-ness), 2, 7, 109, 111,
113, 137
Japanese language, 4, 155, 220, 228
The Japanese (magazine), 112, 113
Japan Farmers Union, 147
Japan National Railway (JNR), 303
Japan New Party, 314
Japan Productivity Center (JPC), 280, 324
Japan Railway (JR), 103, 303
Japan Renewal Party, 314, 322
Japan Socialist Party (JSP), 237, 238, 239, 271,
275, 277; boycott of constitutional commissionby, 273; and CGP, 287; and compromise, 279,
282; and JNR unions, 303; and LDP, 321–22;
leaders of, 313; as opposition, 303, 314, 316;
right-wing faction of, 281; strength of, 287;
support of, 322
Jehol (Rehe), 190
Jehovah’s Witnesses, 199
Jimmu, Emperor, 287

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land prices, 308, 315
land reform, 230, 231, 234–35, 240, 243, 251, 279
LDP. See Liberal Democratic Party
League of Blood, 187–88
League of Nations, 174, 190
left-wing movements, 167, 237
Lenin, V. I., 168
Levellers Association (Suiheisha), 154
Liaodong peninsula, 118, 119, 120, 121
Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), 282, 286, 287,
289, 302, 323, 325; comeback of, 321, 322;
and constitution, 272, 279; defeat of, 310, 312,
313, 314; in Diet, 302, 303, 313; founding of,271, 321; and JSP, 321–22; leadership of, 301;
and Police Duties Law, 275–76; and small
business, 279–80; and U.S.-Japan treaty, 276,
277
liberalism, 161, 169, 173, 196, 199
Liberal Party (Jiyūtō), 84, 87, 91, 116, 128, 237,
238, 322; and elections, 127, 270, 271. See
also Seiyūkai
Li Hongzhang, 117
Li-Ito pact, 117
List, Friedrich, 73
literacy, 26, 67, 160
literature, 38–41, 159–60
Louis XIV (France), 35
Love Suicide at Sonezaki (Chikamatsu), 40
loyalty, 105, 110, 113, 137, 199, 231; to emperor,
129, 130, 162, 217
Lucky Dragon incident, 274, 275
Lytton Report, 190

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Kōmei, Emperor, 52, 55
Kōmeitō Party. See Clean Government Party
Konoe Fumimaro, 197, 204, 207–8, 210, 212, 213;
descendants of, 314; and end of World War II,
222–23, 238; and mass party, 216
Konoe Memorial, 223
Korea, 62, 96, 193, 194, 224, 298; annexation of,123, 154, 297; and China, 116, 117, 118, 178–
79, 192; diplomatic relations with, 18, 19; andJapan, 3–4, 17, 115–16, 117, 120–22, 177,
178, 191, 295–97, 330, 331; Japaneseinvasions of, 11, 35, 74, 81, 85; Japanese trade
with, 115, 241, 248; nationalism in, 116, 117,
123; Republic of (South Korea), 295–96, 306,
332; and Russia, 117, 120; trade with, 18, 33,
115, 116, 122; treaties with, 115, 295–96; andU.S., 117; in World War II, 210, 214
Koreans, 259; in Japan, 154, 261, 330
Korean War (1950–1953), 241, 245, 246, 248, 271
koshiben (ofﬁce workers), 155, 160
Kōtoku Shusui, 134, 166
Kumamoto, 87
Kuomintang. See Chinese Nationalist Party
Kuril Islands, 48, 295
Kuroda Kiyotaka, 165, 348n13
Kuruma Samezō, 218, 355n7
Kwantung army (Manchuria), 187, 188, 190, 206,207
kyōdatsu (exhaustion), 229
Kyōhō reforms, 42
Kyoto, 2, 13, 24, 33, 35, 154; as battleground(1800s), 55–56, 58, 61; Nijo palace in, 14; and¯
OninWar, 9; population of, 23
Kyoto University, 199, 219, 231
Kyushu, 1, 18, 33, 77, 86, 88, 314; coal mining
in, 97, 276

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labor: agricultural, 254; and capital, 171, 184, 277;
changed treatment of, 195; conditions of, 100–
105, 134–35; costs of, 98–99, 214; disputes
concerning, 102, 103, 134, 135, 151, 152, 167,
171, 172, 184; export of, 95, 115; family, 252;and gender differences, 259–60; andmanagement, 235, 251, 289; patriotic
associations of, 199; reforms for, 173, 235,
243; three-K, 329; wage, 123, 139, 150, 157,
214, 215, 235, 256, 273; women’s roles in,
251, 260–61. See also workers
Labor Ministry, 235
labor movement, 110, 168, 235, 273, 281, 288
Labor New Order, 213
labor unions, 103, 135, 153, 158, 259, 288; in
1940s and 1950s, 249, 273; agricultural, 217;
anti-communist, 273; and Communist Party,
237, 239, 273, 275; and discussion councils,
195–96; and health insurance, 171; in
Occupation, 231, 235; ofﬁce, 150; pro­business, 289; and productivity drive, 280;
tenant farmer, 147, 172; and university
graduates, 168; and wage increases, 273;
women in, 150–51, 184–85, 275; workplacestruggle of, 273; worldwide, 290
Ladies’ Patriotic Association, 136, 145
landlords, 94–96, 144–48, 197, 215, 225, 234–35;
in Occupation, 231. See also tenant farmers

MacArthur, Douglas, 209, 211, 233, 234, 239, 272;
and occupation of Japan, 227, 229, 232
machine industry, 99, 100, 103, 140, 152magazines, mass circulation, 139, 159
Mainichi Shinbun (newspaper), 79
Makino Nobuaki, 166
Manchukuo, 188, 190, 192
Manchuria, 120–22, 193, 204, 224; developmentof, 194, 207, 208; expansion in, 190, 209; andJapan, 118, 174, 176, 177, 180, 186–89, 197,
209, 298
Manchurian Incident (1931–32), 188, 189
manga (comic book), 39
manufacturing, 70, 71–72, 95, 145, 243, 281;
output of, 96, 140, 142
Marco Polo Bridge incident, 204
marriage, 169, 227, 257–58, 261, 275, 304, 312
Marshall, George, 239
Maruyama Masao, 161, 267, 268, 307
Marx, Karl, 218
Marxism, 158, 160, 183, 186, 198, 218, 232, 284,
289
Marxism-Leninism, 157
mass media, 139, 159, 264, 266, 268, 298
materialism, 109–10, 119, 219, 267, 268, 269,
307, 324
Matsudaira Sadanobu, 42Matsui Noboru, 124
Matsukata Masayoshi, 96, 100, 127, 128, 130,
166, 348n13
Matsumae domain, 17
Matsuo Bashō, 38, 39

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Minobe Ryōkichi, 286
Minobe Tatsukichi, 199, 358n18
minponshugi (rooted in the people), 169, 170
Minseitō (People’s Politics Party), 163, 172, 182,
183, 189, 216, 271; and elections, 196; foreign
policy of, 180, 187, 188; and Progressive
Party, 237; and unions, 173, 195. See also
Kenseikai
Mishima Yukio, 269
missionaries, 3, 11, 17, 44, 67, 110, 234
MITI. See Ministry of International Trade andIndustry
Mito domain, 41, 44, 52, 54, 55, 122
Mito Mitsukuni, 41
Mito scholars, 48
Mitsubishi Bank, 189
Mitsubishi zaibatsu, 97, 98, 143, 144, 150, 163
Mitsui, 97–98, 143, 144, 150, 187, 231, 276–77
Mitsui Bank, 97
Mitsui Trading Company, 97, 143, 350n5
Mitsukoshi department store, 155
Miyake Setsurei, 300
Miyazawa Kiichi, 313, 314, 331
Mizuno Tadakuni, 48
Mobilization Law, 212, 214
modern girl (modan gaaru; moga), 156–57, 158,
159, 160, 185, 219, 305, 325
modernization, 74, 108, 109–10, 111, 116, 202–3,
289; opposition to, 219–21
monopolies. See zaibatsu
Mori Arinori, 89, 105, 106¯
Mori Ogai,
108
Morisson (American merchant ship), 48
Morita Akio, 248
Mori Yoshihiro, 323
Mothers Conference, 274
Motoda Eifu, 105
Motoori Norinaga, 43, 109
Motoshima, Mayor (Nagasaki), 311
Movement for Freedom and Popular Rights, 80–
85, 89Movement to Protect Constitutional Government,
130
Mukden (Shenyang), 188, 204
Munitions Ministry, 212, 250
Muragaki Norimasa, 88, 90
Murayama Tomiichi, 321, 322
music, 108, 109, 220
Mussolini, Benito, 203
Mutsuhito, Emperor, 165

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Matsuo Taseko, 51
May Day celebration (1920), 168
May Fourth Movement (1919), 178
May Thirtieth Movement (1925), 178
Meiji constitution (1889), 64, 77–78, 92–93, 164,
165, 180
Meiji emperor, 58, 59, 61, 161, 165, 310
Meiji era, 20, 53, 320; changes of, 111–14, 261;
household registration in, 262; Origin Day(Kigensetsu) in, 287; rhetoric of, 227;
traditions of, 310–11
Meiji Restoration (1868), 53, 58–59, 61–137, 198,
219, 320
Meiji Six Journal (Meiroku Zasshi), 79–80, 89
Meiji Six Society, 80, 112“Memorial on the Establishment of a
Representative Assembly” (1874), 81
men: education of, 263; hairstyles for, 89; military
service for, 93, 134, 254–55; role of, 329; inTokugawa period, 32; and voting, 126; andwomen, 74
merchants, 15–16, 29, 36, 37, 38, 43, 148, 162
middle class, 245, 264, 265, 267, 268, 289, 290;
new, 149–50, 256–57, 259; old, 149, 150, 259.
See also consumerism; culture
Middle East, 287–88, 330
Midway Island, battle for, 211
migration, 95, 154
Miike mine, 97, 280; 1960 strike in, 276–79, 280,
288; Union Wives Association of, 278
Miki Takeo, 271
militarism, 201, 203, 239, 242
military, 3, 188, 195, 211, 274; and arms
production industry, 119, 123; buildup of, 117,
118, 119, 120; and business combines, 194;and cabinet, 130; cost of, 127, 174, 175, 217;
dismantling, 239; and emperor, 93, 165;
expansion of, 182, 191, 197, 202, 297; inKorea, 179; in Meiji Restoration, 66–67, 108;
and nationalism, 136, 209; and naval arms
race, 175, 187, 190; and politicians, 136, 169,
198; prohibition of, 272, 273; rebellion of, 186–
87; and reform, 190, 193; surrender of, 227,
239; universal conscription in, 66, 93, 134
Mill, John Stuart, 79, 80, 108
Minamata, 284
mining: coal, 96–97, 193, 240, 276–79, 280, 288;
female workers in, 103, 134; male workers in,103; in Manchukuo, 192; metal, 96, 192; andstrikes, 276–79, 280, 288
Ministry of Agriculture, 195, 214
Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce, 83, 171,172, 173, 193
Ministry of Commerce, 193, 212, 213, 240, 250
Ministry of Commerce and Industry (MITI), 250
Ministry of Education, 105, 124, 136, 137, 186,
199, 319, 324; and 1964 Olympiad, 266; andgender roles, 263; and home economics, 328;
in Occupation, 231; and school textbooks, 297,
332
Ministry of Finance, 262, 295, 301, 312, 314, 317
Ministry of International Trade and Industry(MITI), 250, 288, 301
Ministry of Justice, 173
Ministry of Welfare, 213, 214, 228, 319, 323

Nagasaki, 17, 18, 21, 274, 311; and atomic bomb,
223, 225; trade in, 33, 44, 48; Women’s
Defense Association in, 222
Nagasaki Citizens’ Committee to Seek Free
Speech, 311
Nagata Tetsuzan, 198
Nagatsuka Takashi, 145
Nagoya, celebrations in (1867), 58
Nakamura Masanao, 80, 112
Nakasendō road, 24, 25
Nakasone Yasuhiro, 297, 301, 302, 303, 304, 312
Nakayama Ichirō, 272
Nanjing Massacre, 204, 206, 224, 297, 332
Nara era, 4

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¯
Masayoshi, 302
Ohira¯ Kentarō, 116Oioil: and industrial expansion, 246, 276; Middle
Eastern, 316; supply of, 208, 272, 330
oil shock, 287–88, 327¯ company, 98
OjiOkada Keisuke, 196, 198
okage-mairi (Ise-mairi; mass pilgrimages), 45
Okakura Kakuzō, 109, 113
Okakura Tenshin, 300
Okinawa (Ryukyu Islands), 17, 18, 35, 74, 75,
242; American forces on, 274, 289, 330; battle
for, 223; reversion to Japan of, 291, 292¯
Okubo
Toshimichi, 54, 66, 70, 72, 73, 74¯
Okuma
Shigenobu, 83, 84, 91, 92, 128, 162, 174,
180
oligarchs (genrō), 112, 130, 133, 161, 162, 188;
original, 92, 348n13; and party politics, 93,
127, 131, 166
Olympics, 265–66¯
Silk Reeling Company, 275
Omi
¯
Omura
Masujirō, 66“On Decadence” (Sakaguchi), 229¯
Onin
War (1467–1477), 9
onna-gata (female impersonators), 39
Onoda Hiroo, 269
Opium Wars (1839–1842), 48, 50, 176
Organization for Economic Cooperation andDevelopment, 294, 359n4
Osaka, 2, 16, 20, 24, 33, 37, 123, 154; 1867
celebrations in, 58; and alternate attendancesystem, 20–21; bullet train to, 254, 266;
entertainment quarters of, 36; food riots in, 51;
local government in, 171; population of, 23; asrice port, 25; and suburban sprawl, 251;
uprising in, 53; world exposition at, 265
Osaka Incident of 1885, 116¯
Oshio
Heihachirō, 53¯
Osugi
Sakae, 170¯ Kaoru, 282
Otaoutcastes, 16, 65, 154. See also burakumin
Outline of Civilization (Fukuzawa), 80
An Outline Plan for the Reorganization of Japan(Kita; 1923), 179
Owada Masako, 311¯
Oyama
Iwao, 348n13¯ Sōichi, 186
Oyaoyatoi gaijin (hired foreigners), 72
Ozaki Yukio, 130
Ozawa Ichirō, 314, 321, 322, 323
Ozu Yasujirō, 200

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narikin (nouveau riche), 140
Narita airport, 285, 286
Naruhito, Crown Prince, 311
National Foundation Day, 287
National General Mobilization Law, 212–13
nationalism, 45, 50, 62, 105, 111, 130, 269, 331;
agrarian, 194–95; in Burma, 211; in China,
178, 180, 209; engineering, 136–37; in Korea,
116, 117, 123; and military service, 67; ultra-,207, 298
National Learning, School of, 43–44, 51, 122
nation-building, 75, 115, 123, 126, 135, 164
nation-states, 59, 80, 114
Natsume Sōseki, 106–7, 108, 129, 137
Nazi Labor Front, 213
Nazi Law for the Organization of National Labor(1934), 195–96
neo-Confucianism, 5, 6, 35, 36, 37
the Netherlands, 17, 21, 35, 44, 48, 207, 209, 210,356n9aNeutrality Treaty (1941; Japan and Soviet Union),
222, 223
New East Asian Order, 210
New Frontier Party, 322
New Life Movement, 263–64
New Man Society (Shinjinkai), 157
New Order, 212, 216–18; and associations, 217,
218
New Party Sakigake, 319, 322
newspapers, 79, 139, 159, 265
New Theses (Shinron; Aizawa Yasushi), 44
New Zealand, 356n9a
NHK (Nippon Hōsō Kyōkai; Japan Broadcast
Association), 265
Nichinichi (Daily) News, 79
Nietzsche, Friedrich, 220
Nihonjinron (theories of the Japanese), 300–301
Niigata, 284
Nikkō Shrine, 35, 41
Nimitz, Chester, 211–12
Ninomiya Sontoku, 136
Nippon Music Culture Association, 220
Nippon Telephone and Telegraph (NTT), 303, 328
Nishi Amane, 80
Nishihara Loans, 174, 176
Nishiyama Yatarō, 248
Nixon, Richard, 291–92, 302
Nogi Maresuke, 129
Noh theater, 108–9
Nomonhan, 206
NTT. See Nippon Telephone and Telegraphnuclear weapons, 274, 275, 276
Obuchi Keizō, 323
Occupation, U.S., 226–43; and democracy, 230,
231; government-controlled media in, 264; andlabor unions, 231, 235; and MacArthur, 227,
229, 232; reforms of, 234–39; reverse courseof, 239–40; and zaibatsu, 231, 236, 239
Oda Nobunaga, 10, 11, 13, 14, 34, 35“ofﬁce ladies,” 305, 306
ofﬁcial development assistance (ODA), 297
Ogawa Kikumatsu, 227–28
Oguri Tadamasa, 56
Ogyū Sorai, 37, 41, 43

Paekche (Korean peninsula), 4, 5
Pakistan, 356n9a
panic of 1927, 142
Park Chung Hee, 296, 297
parliamentary rule, 81, 84, 165–67, 169; andpolitical violence, 167, 189; support for, 162,
164, 186
Patriotic Industrial Service Federation. See
Federation for Patriotic Industrial Service
Patriotic Public Party (Aikoku Kōtō), 81
peace movements, 134, 273–74, 275
Peace Preservation Law, 170
Pearl Harbor, 209, 210

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Reagan, Ronald, 298, 303
Recruit incident, 302, 312, 313
Red Purge, 239–40, 271
Reform Club, 163
Reform Party (Kaishintō), 271
reforms, 34, 42–45, 120, 197, 219, 273; andchange, 203, 243; economic, 42, 70, 203, 212–
13, 216, 320; labor, 173, 235, 243; land, 230,
231, 234–35, 240, 243, 251, 279; military,
190, 193; and nation-building, 115, 164;
Occupation, 234–39; of SCAP, 230, 231, 234,
235, 236, 237, 254, 320; social, 195, 266; oftenant farming, 171. See also Charter Oath
Reischauer, Edwin O., 289
religion, 17–18, 110, 111, 318–19. See also
Buddhism; Christianity; Confucianism; Shinto
religions, new, 159; Konkō, 44–45, 87; Kurozumi,¯
44–45; Maruyama, 88; Omoto,88, 199; Tenri,
44–45, 87, 88, 199
Religious Corporations Law, 319
Republic of China (Taiwan), 242
revolution, 46, 61–62, 64, 68, 167, 226, 320; fromabove, 62, 75–76; in China (1911), 173, 176;
Russian, 157, 167; samurai, 61–76
rights, 160; popular, 80–85, 86, 88, 127, 135, 162;
to strike, 172, 280, 288; voting, 126, 172, 236;
to work, 231. See also women’s rights
Rikken Dōshikai, 130, 131
riots, 51, 66–67, 76, 85, 131, 135, 162
ri (principle of reason), 36
Risshō Kōsei kai, 261
risutora (restructuring), 317–18, 327
Roche, Leon, 56
Roessler, Hermann, 92
rōnin (masterless samurai), 40, 179, 256
Roosevelt, Franklin, 208, 210
Roosevelt, Theodore, 121, 177
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 79, 108
Royall, Kenneth, 240
Russia: explorers in 1780s, 46; and Japan, 117,
118, 119, 120, 121, 173; and Korea, 117, 120.
See also Soviet Union
Russian Revolution, 157, 167
Russo-Japanese War (1904–1905), 122–23, 129,
134, 136, 137, 177; peace settlement of, 121,
125, 131, 161, 187; and surprise attack on Port
Arthur, 210
Ruth, Babe, 201, 202
Ryūkyū Islands. See Okinawa

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peasants, 37, 40; protests of, 30–31, 32, 34, 88;rebellion of, 44, 57, 61, 87
Peking International Meeting on Tariff Reform(1925), 176
People’s Republic of China (PRC), 242, 246, 291,
292. See also China
Perry, Matthew, 49, 51, 52, 78, 111, 115
Phaeton (British warship), 48
Philippines, 177, 209, 210, 356n9a
Pierce, Franklin, 14
A Plan for the Reorganization of Japan (Kita;
1919), 167
Plaza Accord (1985), 294–95, 314
Police Duties Law, 275–76
police forces, 172, 230, 236–37, 239, 242, 275–76
political participation, 77–85, 93, 115, 123, 125;and loyalty to emperor, 162, 199; of women,
88–91, 111, 151
political parties, 81, 84, 126, 127, 128, 262, 270–
71; and cabinets, 163, 164–65, 169; centrist,
287; conservative, 271–72, 301–4; cooperative
diplomacy of, 186; in Depression, 183;
establishment, 243; leaders of, 169–70; of theleft, 232, 237, 285; left vs. right, 203, 237,
271, 273, 321; mainstream, 197; and New
Order, 216; prewar, 238, 242; progressive, 271–
75, 281; and zaibatsu, 143, 169
politicians, 125, 136, 169, 287; bureaucrats turned,
301, 302; and cabinets, 196–97; career, 301,
302, 313; and New Order, 216, 217; andoligarchs, 127, 131, 133; and parties, 165; andstate ministers, 126, 127, 128
politics, 145, 171, 282, 286, 314; of compromise,
128, 279, 289; parliamentary, 126–31; “porkbarrel,” 129, 170
pollution, 270, 283–84
Pollution Related Disease Compensation Law,
286
popular rights movements, 80–85, 86, 88, 127,
135, 162
population, 26, 28, 94–95, 98, 251, 323–24
Port Arthur (Liaodong peninsula), 121
Portugal, 17
prime ministers, 162, 163, 166, 333–34
Priority Production program, 240
Privy Council, 165–66, 172
productivity, 98, 280, 298, 300, 326
Progressive Party (Kaishintō), 84, 91, 127
Progressive Party (Shinpotō), 237
prostitution, 101–2, 185, 258, 324; and sexual
slavery, 224–25, 227, 322, 331, 332; tolerationof, 16, 185, 186. See also Yoshiwara
Public Order Police law (1900), 172
Public Telephone Company, 303
publishing industry, 139, 160, 264–65, 307
Pusan, 18Puyi, Emperor, 189
quality control (QC), 299–300
racism, 123, 154, 294
radio, 159, 200
railroads, 99, 103, 115, 122; building of, 71, 96,
97, 111; and timekeeping, 71
Rashōmon (ﬁlm), 160

Sagawa Express scandal (1992), 312, 313
Saigō Takamori, 63, 74, 81, 85, 86, 87
Saigō Tsugumichi, 348n13
Saionji Kimmochi (Prince Saionji), 128, 129, 130,
166, 177, 190, 348n13, 349n11b
Saipan, capture of, 212
Saitō Makoto, 178, 180, 190, 196, 198
Sakaguchi Ango, 229
Sakamoto Ryōma, 53–54, 57, 58, 78
Sakatani Shiroshi, 89
Sakhalin Island, 48, 121
Sakurauchi Yoshio, 307
samurai (bushi; warriors), 3, 12, 14–15, 16, 37,
41, 54; in cities, 29, 149, 150, 160; anddaimyō, 9, 15, 20; debts of, 29, 34; in Diet,

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priests of, 3, 287; shrines of, 35, 110, 136,
253, 261
shipbuilding industry, 99, 119, 123, 140, 299; andcartels, 193; cutbacks in, 288; male workers
in, 103, 152
shipping industry, 99, 119, 122, 192
shishi (loyalists), 52–53
shizoku (upper samurai), 65
Shōda Michiko, 265, 269, 312
shogun (generalissimo), 3, 11, 12, 14, 29; castle inEdo, 21, 22; and emperor, 36, 41
Shōwa Denko, 194
Shōwa era, 165, 198, 297, 310, 312
Shōwa Research Association, 212
Siberian Intervention, 175, 179
silk industry, 95, 96, 102–3, 140
Singapore, 209, 211
Sino-Japanese War (1894–95), 118, 119, 121, 123,
124, 128, 129, 131
Sirota, Beate, 236
Smith, Adam, 73
Social Democratic Party, 134
socialism, 135, 136, 154, 158, 166, 167, 216, 271;
and Christian activists, 110; and constitution,
272; criticism of government, 113, 238; andfeminism, 169; growth of, 237; interest inWestern, 134; international, 179; as minority,239; organizations of, 217; state, 194, 226;
support of, 302. See also Japan Socialist Party
Social Masses Party (SMP), 197, 216
social security system, 263, 324, 326
Society for Political Education (Seikyōsha), 112,
113
Sōdōmei federation, 195, 280, 281
Sōhyō. See General Council of Trade Unions of
Japan
The Soil (Nagatsuka), 145Sōka Gakkai (Value Creation Society), 261, 286,
287
Sony, 248
sotsu (lower samurai), 65
Southern Manchurian Railway, 118
Soviet Union, 167, 175, 194, 224, 225, 230, 242;
and Allied Council for Japan, 355n9b; collapseof, 310; and Far Eastern Commission, 356n9a;
and Japan, 206, 208, 217, 222, 223, 246, 272,
295, 298; and Japan Communist Party, 271;
Nazi attack on, 208; and U.S., 239, 274. See
also Russia
Spain, 17
Spanish-American War (1898), 121
Special Higher Police, 230
Spencer, Herbert, 79
sports, 109, 201–2, 220, 265–66
Stalin, 207, 208, 271
steel industry, 123, 192, 240, 248, 250, 299, 315
stock market, 97, 140, 308, 314–16, 327
Strike for the Right to Strike, 288
strikes, 134, 135, 152, 282; in 1920s, 153; in
1930s, 185, 195; in 1950s, 273; in China, 178;and communism, 239; of factory workers, 103;
Miike mine, 276–79, 280, 288; in Occupation,
235, 238, 239; right to, 172, 280, 288; steel,
163, 170; student, 284; of textile workers, 102,
151, 275; women in, 275

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126; domain, 21, 105; and farmers, 10, 20, 87;
hairstyles of, 89; loyalist, 52–53, 55, 57;
masterless, 40, 179, 256; and Meiji restoration,
59, 62, 63, 64, 65–66, 75, 76; and merchants,
38; in neo-Confucianism, 36; politicalparticipation of, 78, 81, 83; and popular rights
movements, 81; rebellions of, 67, 85, 86, 87,
88; and reforms, 42; and revolution, 61–76;
stipends of, 61, 64–65, 70, 86; transformation
to bureaucrats, 15; traveling, 25;
underemployed, 9; women of, 113
San Francisco treaty (1951), 241–42
sankin kōtai (system of alternate attendance), 13–
14, 17, 21–22, 55
Sanshirō (Natsume Sōseki), 108
sarariiman (salary-man), 155, 259, 268
Sata Ineko, 151
Satō Eisaku, 301
Satsuma domain, 52–59, 61, 86; in early Meiji,64, 66; and popular rights, 81; and Ryūkyū
Islands, 18; samurai of, 54, 64, 105; surrenderof lands of, 63; in Tokugawa era, 72; travel
abroad from, 73
Satsuma rebellion, 85, 95, 116
Saturday Evening Post, 159“Sazae-san” (comic strip and TV show), 265
SCAP. See Supreme Commander for the AlliedPowersschool system, 251, 254, 255, 259, 268
science, 42, 155, 219, 220
Seiyūkai (Friends of Constitutional Government;
Rikken Seiyūkai), 128, 162–65, 172, 173, 179,
216; attack on headquarters of, 189–90;
cabinets of, 130, 161, 166, 176, 189, 238; andChiang Kai-shek, 177; in Depression, 183; andelections, 196; and foreign policy, 180, 187,
188; leaders of, 129, 131, 158, 170, 349n11b;
and Liberal Party, 237
Sekigahara, battle of, 11, 13
Self-Defense Force (SDF), 269, 329–30, 331
self-determination, national, 178, 179
Separation Edict (1868), 110
sexual harassment, 328, 329
sexuality, 155–57, 160, 185. See also prostitution
Shandong (China), 174, 176, 178, 204
Shanghai (China), 176, 178, 179, 204
Shenyang (Mukden), 188
Shibaura Engineering Works, 98, 104
Shibusawa Eiichi, 73, 99, 122
Shidehara Kijūrō, 176, 239
Shikoku, 1
Shimabara, rebellion in, 17
Shimada Saburō, 179
Shimizu Toyoko, 90
Shimoda, 49, 50, 52
Shimonoseki, 56
Shinjinkai. See Tokyo University New Man
Societyshinjinrui (new species), 305
shinkansen (new trunk line; bullet train), 254, 255,
266
shinpan (Tokugawa relatives), 13
Shinpotō. See Progressive Party
Shinto (the Way of the Gods), 6, 36, 43, 137, 219,
230, 311; and popular religions, 45, 159;

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Taishō democracy, 161
Taishō emperor, 129, 161, 165
Taishō political crisis (1913), 129–31, 162, 163
Taiwan Development Company, 192
Taiwan (Formosa), 74, 75; under Japanese rule,
115, 118, 120, 122, 177, 191, 192, 224, 298;
in World War II, 210
Takahashi Korekiyo, 163, 192, 193, 198, 354n12
Takamure Itsue, 169
Takasugi Shinsaku, 57
Takeshita Noboru, 301, 312, 313
Takikawa Yukitoki, 199
The Tale of Genji, 43, 218
The Tale of the 47 Rōnin (Chikamatsu), 40
Tanaka Giichi, 136, 165, 176, 179, 187, 353n18
Tanaka Kakuei, 295, 301, 302, 312, 313, 314,
322
Tani Kanjō, 91
Tanizaki Jun’ichirō, 160
Tanuma Okitsugu, 42taxes, 68, 85, 131, 217, 279, 322, 324; business,
125, 127, 280; collection of, 16, 26, 93, 97;
consumption, 312, 313, 317; and imperialism,
123, 125; land, 95, 127, 145, 183; in Meiji
period, 70–71, 76, 125; as qualiﬁcation forvoting, 126–27; rice as, 21, 25, 70
technology, 3, 59, 149, 217, 246, 253, 266;
American exports of, 49, 289; and industry,99, 250; military, 4, 44; Western, 73, 113
telecommunications system, 328
television, 249, 265, 266, 267, 289, 293;
emperor’s funeral on, 311
temples, 16–17, 261
Tempō era reforms, 42
Tempō famine, 53
Tenant Farmer Dispute Mediation Law, 172
tenant farmers, 30, 87, 144, 171, 183, 184, 214;
economic life of, 145, 194; and land, 167, 230;
in Occupation, 235; organizing movements of,157, 217
tenka (the realm; “under heaven”), 34
Tenmei famine (1786), 28–29
Tenrikyō, 261
Terauchi Masatake, 162, 174, 175
terrorism, 198, 203, 331; in Tokyo subway, 318–19

textile industry, 96, 97, 100, 120, 140, 185, 193;
women in, 134, 150, 152, 186, 260
Thailand, 211
Thatcher, Margaret, 303
theater: bunraku puppet, 39–40, 81–83, 94; jorūripuppet, 109; Kabuki, 16, 38, 39, 40, 41, 109;
Noh, 108–9
Tōjō Hideki, 198, 208, 215, 217, 223, 230, 354n4
Tōkaidō route, 24
Tokugawa, Way of the, 36
Tokugawa era, 1, 6, 9–59, 160, 167, 219;
Buddhism in, 5; commoners in, 77, 78, 149;
cultural diversity in, 37–41; economy in, 19,20; ﬁnal years of, 92; foreign policy of, 17–19;
founding of zaibatsu in, 143; political settle­
ments in, 11–19; seclusion policy of, 48;
women rulers in, 312
Tokugawa family, 2, 3, 7, 14, 126
Tokugawa Hidetada, 11
Tokugawa Iemitsu, 11, 13, 15, 17, 19, 36
Tokugawa Iesada, 52
Tokugawa Ieyasu, 11, 12, 14, 19, 33, 34, 41; andConfucianism, 36; on peasants, 77; selfdeiﬁcation of, 35; settlement with daimyō, 13
Tokugawa Nariaki, 52, 54
Tokugawa regime, 19; and China, 4, 37;
ideological foundations of, 34–36; overthrowof, 46–59, 62
Tokugawa Yoshimune, 42
Tokugawa Yoshinobu, 52, 56–57, 58
Tokutomi Roka, 66, 67
Tokutomi Sohō, 119
Tokyo, 2, 23, 123, 131–32, 134, 201, 251, 254;
earthquake in, 140. See also Edo
Tokyo Federation of Salary Earners, 150
Tokyo Imperial University, 106, 107, 121, 135,
143, 157, 163, 169, 199; renaming of, 231
Tokyo Savings Bank, 142
Tokyo Trial. See International Military Tribunal
for the Far East
Tokyo University, 231, 283, 284, 324
Tokyo University New Man Society (Shinjinkai),
186
Tokyo Women’s Reform Society, 90
Tonghak rebellion (Korea), 117–18
Tosa domain, 52, 53, 55, 57, 58; and popular
rights, 81, 88; support of national assembly,
78, 79; surrender of lands, 63Tōyō Muslin textile mills, 185
Toyotomi Hideyoshi, 10–11, 13, 14, 18, 25, 34,
35
trade, 7, 9, 10, 43, 188, 189, 272; and agriculture,
29–30, 95; with China, 33, 42, 96, 272; in
Edo, 23; international, 33, 48–51, 182, 246;
interregional, 21, 24; with Korea, 18, 33, 115,
122; in Nagasaki, 33, 44, 48; and religion, 17–18; and roads, 24, 25; with Soviet Union, 295;
surpluses in, 315; in Tokugawa period, 20, 48–
51; with U.S., 209, 241, 292, 293; vs. war, 49,
119. See also exports; imports
traders, 3, 17, 20, 44, 115, 148; rice, 21, 25, 139–40
translations, 42, 44, 301
transportation, 23, 24, 97, 254, 255

H
isStructural Impediments Initiative (SII), 294
student movements, 157, 274, 275, 283, 285, 286,
290
students, 73, 115, 186, 285, 286, 308, 324
suffrage: movements for, 126, 163; universal male,
171, 172–73, 197, 237; women’s, 134, 172,
236
Sumitomo, 97, 143, 231, 261, 308
supiido (fast living), 219
Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers(SCAP), 229, 238, 249, 271; and economy,
240, 241; General Headquarters (GHQ) of,
234, 356n10; reforms of, 230, 231, 234, 235,
236, 237, 254, 320; reverse course of, 239–40
Suzuki Bunji, 135, 150, 152
Suzuki Kantarō, 223
Suzuki Shōsan, 35–36
Suzuki Trading Company, 142

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Uchida Ryōhei, 167, 179
Uchida Tōshichi, 152
Uchimura Kanzō, 112
Ugaki Kazushige, 175, 180, 189, 191–92
ukiyo-e (woodblock print), 38, 108
unemployment, 171, 184, 186, 189, 298, 317; andjob security, 281, 300
United Nations, 304, 330
United States (U.S.), 7, 67, 194, 223, 226, 289,
294, 298; and Allied Council for Japan,
355n9b; Bill of Rights of, 231; as bulwark
against communism, 240; commercial treaty
with, 208; and Dutch, 209; and Far Eastern
Commission, 356n9a; and Great Britain, 209;
and Gulf War (1991), 315–16, 330; and Japan,
59, 121, 173, 177, 207, 219, 229, 246, 270,
273, 280, 292, 293, 295, 330, 331; and Korea,
117; and League of Nations, 190; Lockheed
corporation in, 302; and Manchukuo, 190; andoccupation of Japan, 227–43; Open Door
policy of, 122, 177; and Organization for
Economic Cooperation and Development,
359n4; Resolution Trust Company in, 317, 325;
and Soviet Union, 239, 274; strategy of, inJapan, 229; Super 301 sanctions against Japan,
293; terrorist attacks on, 331; trials for war
crimes, 230; and Twenty-One Demands, 174;
unions in, 351n32. See also Pearl Harbor; U.S.Japan Security Treaty
Uno Sōsuke, 313
urbanization, 20, 23. See also cities
U.S.-Japan Security Treaty (1951; Anpo), 242,
267, 271, 273, 274, 275, 282, 289; debates
over, 307; protests against second renewal of(1970), 283; renewal of (1960), 276, 277, 278

280; moderation of, 282, 288; and perfor­
mance, 327; postwar, 259; wartime, 217–18
Wang Jingwei, 206–7, 211
war, 7, 9, 231; in China, 199, 204–7, 217; andintellectuals, 218–19, 220; between Japan andthe West, 187, 188, 209–12; mobilization for,175, 182, 198, 203, 212–17, 218, 219, 225,
236, 264; Paciﬁc, 209–12, 217; total, 212–17.
See also transwar era; particular conﬂicts
warlords, 176
Waseda University, 83, 220
Washington Conference (1922), 176, 187
Waswo, Ann, 145–46
Webb, Beatrice, 122
welfare system, 287, 289, 302; corporate, 281;
cost of, 303, 304; district commissioners in,
148–49, 171–72; and middle class, 290
the West: in Asia, 207; culture of, 108–9, 219;
imperialism of, 4, 74, 179, 180, 189, 211, 298,
332; individualism in, 195, 199; inﬂuence of,199, 219–20; and New Order, 212; openness
to, 73; respect from, 131; technology of, 73,
113; translations from, 42, 44, 301; war with,
187, 188, 209–12
White, Theodore, 294
William II, King (Netherlands), 48
Willoughby, Charles, 239
Wilson, Woodrow, 174, 175, 178“The Woman Who Loved Love” (Ihara), 38
women: activist, 53, 285; in cabinet, 323; careersfor, 252; changing roles in labor force, 251,
260–61; and cultural changes, 155; in Diet
gallery, 90; and divorce, 158, 328; economicrole of, 215; education of, 67, 68, 89, 90, 102,
106, 113, 151, 155, 231, 263; in electronic
industry, 260; as emperors, 2; equality of, 74,
89, 90, 119, 231, 236, 291, 304, 329; asfounder of religions, 88; as “good wives andwise mothers,” 112–13, 167, 169, 275, 329;
hairstyles of, 89, 91, 111; as homemakers,
253, 263; and labor activism, 150–51, 184–85,
275; liberated, 158; limited working hours for,127; and marriage, 169, 227, 304; and men,
74; and political movements, 274, 290;
political participation of, 88–91, 111, 136, 151,
155, 236; and puriﬁcation campaigns, 196; androyal throne, 312; rural, 195; of samurai class,
113; and sexuality, 155–56; and sexual slavery,
224–25, 227, 322, 331, 332; succession tothrone, 90, 312; in textile industry, 100, 150,
151, 152, 185, 260; in Tokugawa period, 31–
32, 113; U.S. soldiers and Japanese, 227; inwartime, 215; working, 94, 100–103, 134, 148–
54, 185, 225, 256, 263, 275, 299; workingclass, 169. See also modern girl; women’s
rights
Women for National Defense, 199
Women of the World (Sekai Fujin), 134
women’s groups, 217
Women’s Labor Academy, 151
women’s rights, 117, 155, 230, 243; economic,
90, 261, 275; political, 171, 172, 230; voting,134, 172, 236
Women’s Volunteer Labor Corps, 215

Histranswar era: diversity in, 251; patterns in, 251–53;
programs of, 225, 234–35, 242–43, 245
travel, 23–25, 73, 305, 307–8
treaties: Kanagawa, 50; with Korea, 115, 295–96;
Portsmouth, 121; revisions of, 91, 92, 115, 119;San Francisco (1951), 241–42; Shimonoseki,
118, 120; with Soviet Union, 222, 223; unequal,50, 73, 76, 78, 91, 274; Versailles, 174, 175,
178. See also U.S.-Japan Security Treaty
treaty ports, 91, 119
Tripartite Pact, 208
Truman, Harry, 234
Tsuda Ume, 89
Tsuda University, 89
Tsurumi Shunsuke, 307
Tsuru Shigeto, 272
Tsushima domain, 18
Twenty-One Demands, 162, 173–74, 177, 180

Vietnam, 4, 177, 208, 211, 224
Vietnam War, 282, 289, 319
violence, 167, 185, 189; terrorist, 198, 203
Vladivostok (Russia), 175
Vogel, Ezra, 301
Wada Ikuo, 141
wages: control of, 217; equality in, 274; increasein, 273, 288; low, 193; merit and seniority in,

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zaibatsu families, 143, 231
zaibatsu (ﬁnancial cliques), 97–98, 183, 195, 213,
242, 251; leaders of, 173, 194, 197, 216; andOccupation, 231, 236, 239; and politicalparties, 169, 186; and the state, 99, 193; intwentieth century, 139, 143
zai-tekku (ﬁnancial technique), 308
Zengakuren. See All-Japan Federation of Student
Self-Governing Associations
Zenrō, 280, 281
Zhang Zuolin, 187, 188
Zhu Xi, 6, 36, 37, 42

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Yahata (Kyushu), iron and steel mill at, 99, 118
Yajima Kajiko, 90
Yamagata Aritomo, 84, 122, 128, 131, 165, 174;
death of, 163; and Korea, 116, 118; as Meiji
oligarch, 92, 127, 130, 166, 348n13; andmilitary, 66, 117, 162
Yamakawa Hitoshi, 167, 168
Yamakawa Kikue, 169
Yamamoto Gonnohyōe, 130, 162, 163, 164
Yamanoguchi Baku, 355n8a
Yamasaki Ansai, 36
Yamato family, 2, 203
yangban (Korean aristocratic status), 62

Yasuda, 143, 231
Yasukuni Shrine, 137
Yellow Peril, 177yōfuku saimin (“Western-clothes pauper”), 158
Yokohama, 56, 71
Yokohama Mainichi Shinbun (newspaper), 79
Yokoi Shōichi, 269
Yokoyama Knock, 329
Yonai Mitsumasa, 207
yonaoshi (world rectiﬁcation), 45, 88
Yosano Akiko, 169
Yoshida Shigeru, 223, 237–38, 239, 241, 242,
270, 271, 287
Yoshida Shoin, 53
Yoshihito (Taishō emperor), 161
Yoshimoto Takaaki, 267, 268, 307
Yoshino Sakuzō, 169, 179, 351n35
Yoshiwara (Edo entertainment district), 16
youth groups, 136–37, 217
Youth Independence Corps, 178
Yuan Shikai, 174ietyworkers, 100–105; British, 153; and equality, 225;
factory, 127, 134, 149, 150, 152, 158, 160,
167, 185, 217; female, 94, 100–103, 134, 150,
152, 185; male, 103, 123, 151–52; ofﬁce, 150,
158; salaried, 280; silk, 275; South Korean,306; textile, 102, 123, 150; traveling, 103. See
also labor
Workers’ Conditions (government study), 102
workplace councils, 217, 277, 280
World Bank, 248
world depression, 143, 153
World War I, 139, 141, 143, 158, 171, 173
World War II, 114, 143; “comfort stations” in, 224–
25, 227, 322, 331, 332; death toll of, 226;
ending, 221–24; Japanese surrender in, 224,
225; Japan’s responsibility for, 297, 298;
reparations in, 230, 239, 241; steps toward,
207–9; understanding of, 331, 332
writers, 94, 159–60