The Japanese prime minister’s recent reinterpretation of Japan’s pacifist Constitution, which likely will enable its military to engage in war for the first time since World War II, has triggered outrage in Japan and other Asian nations, including China and South Korea. Japan’s postwar military, called the Self-Defense Forces, has thus far been limited mostly to defending the country. Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s asserted right of “collective self-defense” would enable it for the first time to aid allies under attack, including for example shooting down a North Korean missile aimed at the United States. Abe’s recent remark that collective self-defense is as important as the Meiji Restoration has garnered significant attention.

The Meiji Restoration, which marked the return of power from the shogun to the emperor in 1868, is widely regarded as “the dawn of modern Japan.” One of the most tumultuous and violent periods in Japanese history, it kicked off the rise of Imperial Japan. Abe’s comparing it to strengthening the military should come as no surprise. His visit last December to Yasukuni Shrine in Tokyo, whose honored dead include WWII war criminals, caused an international uproar based on the shrine’s symbol of Imperial Japan’s military aggression and colonialism in Asia. Abe has long called for rewriting the Constitution to expand Japan’s military. His forebears, including his grandfather, Nobusuke Kishi, a prime minister in the 1950s, were from Choshu (modern-day Yamaguchi Prefecture). Choshu was one of two samurai clans most responsible for bringing about the Meiji Restoration. After the United States, Great Britain, France and others forced unfair trade treaties on the thus far isolated country in 1858, samurai from Choshu and other parts of Japan, most notably Satsuma (modern-day Kagoshima Prefecture), called for a “strong military and rich nation” under a newly restored monarchy to fend off Western imperialism. They developed a military strong enough to overthrow the shogun’s dynasty, which had ruled the country for over two and a half centuries.

After the Meiji Restoration, former samurai of Choshu and Satsuma dominated the Imperial government, including its powerful military, for over half a century. During that time, Japan defeated China and Russia in wars and colonized Taiwan and Korea. Choshu men continued to control Japan’s army until the 1920s. Samurai of Choshu are among the most revered in Japanese history, and their exploits of a century and a half past are widely depicted today in popular Japanese media including film, TV, books, animation, video games and manga comics. Certainly Prime Minister Abe is mindful of his forebears’ legacy as he asserts Japan’s right to have a standing army in face of China’s formidable threat of military dominance in Asia.

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Read about the Meiji Restoration in Samurai Revolution.

Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s recent visit to Yasukuni Shrine in Tokyo has caused an international uproar based on the shrine’s symbol of Imperial Japan’s military aggression and colonialism in Asia. The current emperor, Akihito, and his predecessor and father, Hirohito, both refused to visit Yasukuni. Their refusals were based on the shrine’s military symbolism and probably also on the more obvious reason that the powerless monarch of a pacifist Japan has no business worshipping at a Shinto shrine whose honored dead include WWII war criminals.

Abe’s visit to Yasukuni is part of his master plan to revive the country’s economy in order to rebuild Japan into the military power that it once was. He reasonably defends the visit as a customary practice among heads of state to pay respects to war dead. Nonetheless it seems clear that Abe wants a standing army like other world powers, capable of waging war anywhere. And it’s a reasonable desire, especially in face of dangerous tensions with China over the disputed Senkaku Islands and Japan’s sovereignty over Okinawa. Part of Abe’s plan is to rewrite Japan’s pacifist Constitution, including Article 9, which restricts the country’s right to go to war. The emperor has expressed disapproval of this part of Abe’s plan and his high regard for peace. However, if history repeats itself (and it does), it would be imprudent to take solace in the current emperor’s pacifism, or to be absolutely certain that the Constitution might not be rewritten so as to restore Imperial power as well.

Akihito’s pacifism and Abe’s military designs are reminiscent of their respective ancestors. Akihito’s great-great grandfather, Emperor Komei, opposed war during the turbulent years leading up to the 1867 overthrow of the military government of the Tokugawa Shogun. (Actually Komei opposed civil war among Japanese, but not war against the foreign “barbarians” who threatened Japan’s sovereignty.) Like Akihito, Komei was a figurehead with no political power. Since Komei wanted nothing more than peace in his empire, he supported the tried-and-true Tokugawa regime that had ruled peacefully for two and a half centuries. Ironically this put him at odds with the so-called Imperial Loyalists, who would crush the Tokugawa by military force and place the emperor in power. Leading the Imperial Loyalism movement were samurai of two powerful clans: Satsuma (modern-day Kagoshima Prefecture) and Choshu (modern-day Yamaguchi Prefecture). Abe’s forebears were Choshu samurai.

The revolution was a reaction to Western powers including Great Britain, France and the United States, who had forced unfair trade treaties on the thus far isolated Japanese nation. Since the shogun had been unable to keep the “barbarians” out, the Imperial Loyalists vowed to “expel the barbarians” under a restored Imperial monarchy. One of their slogans was a “strong military and rich nation” in order to defend against foreign countries that threatened Japan’s sovereignty.

After Komei’s sudden death in late 1866 (some claim by poisoning), he was succeeded by his 16-year-old son, posthumously named Meiji after the era during which he ruled. The leaders of Satsuma and Choshu colluded with the boy’s maternal grandfather and a few other noblemen of the Imperial Court to control the emperor, whom they privately (and irreverently) referred to as “gyoku” (“jewel”)—a symbol by which to carry out the revolution. In early 1868, Satsuma and Choshu led an Imperial army of samurai from various clans to victory against the deposed shogun’s army, which would have been unthinkable under Komei.

During its infancy, the Meiji government was dominated by three samurai from Satsuma and Choshu and two noblemen of the Imperial Court. Satsuma and Choshu continued to control Japan’s Imperial government, including the military, under Emperor Meiji until the beginning of the 20^th century. The Constitution of 1889 was written by Ito Hirobumi, Japan’s first prime minister, formerly of Choshu. Of the nation’s first fourteen cabinets (1885 to 1912) eight were led by former Choshu samurai, and three by men of Satsuma. Choshu dominated the army until the 1920s, after Meiji’s death. These government leaders never abandoned their drive for a “strong military and rich nation”—which was why they were able to defeat China and then Russia in wars, and colonize Taiwan and Korea under Meiji’s rule.

Abe’s maternal grandfather, Nobusuke Kishi, was from Choshu. Before becoming prime minister in the 1950s, Kishi had served in the cabinet of wartime prime minister Hideki Tojo, who was executed for war crimes in 1948. Emperor Akihito, now eighty years old, is the first Japanese emperor since 1867 to have ascended the throne as a powerless figurehead. His eldest son, Crown Prince Naruhito, will become Japan’s next emperor. Like his father, Naruhito is a direct descendent of Komei. But they are also descendants of Meiji and Hirohito, both wartime emperors. Though Akihito has no political power, neither did Komei. But Meiji certainly did. And though until just recently a militarized Japan would have been unthinkable, such is no longer the case. If Abe has his way and is able to rewrite the Constitution, what’s to stop him from restoring political power to the emperor? At any rate, it will be a point of no small interest to see if Naruhito has inherited his father’s love of peace and not his grandfather’s and great-great grandfather’s willingness to go to war.

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Read about the fall of the Tokugawa Shogunate and the rise of Imperial Japan in Samurai Revolution.

A recurring question among Western historians and writers is the relevance of bushido, “the way of the warrior,” in Japan’s military during World War II. Bushido is often attributed to the refusal of the Japanese forces to surrender despite certain defeat and death at such battles as Iwo Jima. Military historian Geoffrey Wawro, in an interview on ww2history.com, asks: “To what extent did this Bushido Code trickle down to the ordinary troops? To what extent was it the province of officers?  And the more menial troops, did they really buy into all this code of the Samurai stuff?” Professor Wawro concludes that they did, based on the occurrences at Iwo Jima and elsewhere. He cites “this whole mentality about how it was disloyal and dishonourable to surrender,” that did not exist among Western forces. (http://ww2history.com/experts/Geoffrey_Wawro/War_in_the_Pacific)

Until the advent of bushido, the most important qualities in a samurai had been bravery, honor, and a strong masculine spirit, based on a set of values sometimes called “the way of the man.” Bravery naturally meant bravery in battle, begot of honor and strength of spirit. “The way of the man” worked just fine during the violent Warring States period preceding the Tokugawa period, when a man’s worth was measured by his valor on the field of battle. However, since “the way of the man” lacked a strong underlying moral code, it came to be frowned upon as barbaric, and even immoral, during the peaceful, orderly, and more refined Tokugawa period. The samurai required a new set of morals to replace the old. Bushido derived as a combination of Confucianism and “the way of the man”—without the barbarism of the latter—and might be best defined as “the way of the gentleman.”

The eight virtues of Confucianism—benevolence, justice, loyalty, filial piety, decorum, wisdom, trust, and respect for elders—were incorporated into bushido. Most, if not all, of these qualities were also valued in “the way of the man,” but were not the measure of a man in the older system. And, of course, manly and warlike qualities were every bit as important in bushido as they had been in “the way of the man.” The most cherished values in bushido were courage—moral and physical—and loyalty to one’s lord. And a samurai was expected to demonstrate his loyalty through courage, even at the risk of his own life. The importance placed on courage and loyalty served a vital purpose: the preservation of order in society. The samurai placed more importance on the welfare of their lord than that of even their own families. Things changed, however, during the final years of Tokugawa rule, when many of the samurai began to devote their loyalty (and lives) to the Emperor. This, of course, led to the overthrow of the Bakufu and restoration of Imperial rule, which, in turn, brought about the end of samurai society altogether—and with it, the demise of bushido.

Perhaps the most eloquent spokesman of bushido was Yamamoto Tsunetomo of the Saga clan, author of Hagakure, the classic text of samurai values: how a samurai should live, think, and die. The book is based on seven years of nightly talks by Yamamoto, starting in 1710. Yamamoto extolled the warrior spirit and austere way of life. He admonished his fellows in Saga not to indulge themselves in “the luxury of peaceful times” under the Bakufu, during which so many men had “neglected the way of arms.” He emphasized the duty of absolute loyalty and subordination to their lord. He said that for the greater benefit of their lord, each man must know his place and fulfill his duty within the feudal hierarchy of the clan, without regard to personal likes or dislikes. And indeed, each man must be ready to die at any time for the lord of Saga.

“Bushido is found in dying,” asserts the key line of the memorable first chapter. When confronted with two alternatives, living or dying, death is the only choice—and one must die immediately. Some say that dying without achieving one’s aim is a “futile death.” However, such thinking belongs to men who practice a “vain,” false bushido, and not to a true samurai. But when pressed between two alternatives one will not necessarily make the right choice. (After all, it is only human and rational to prefer life over death.) But regardless of a man’s past actions, as long as he chooses death he will not be disgraced—no matter how others might judge him afterwards. Such a man, professes Yamamoto, understands bushido. To “gain the freedom of bushido,” then, a man must be “prepared to die at any time, morning and night.” By so doing, he will be able to serve his feudal lord “throughout his entire life, without error.”

Bushido, for all its bellicosity, was also inherently humane. Kaionji Chogoro, in his acclaimed biography of Saigo Takamori, points out that during Japan’s wars with China and Russia at the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth, and even as late as World War I, when bushido was still very much alive among Japanese soldiers, the Japanese Army was admired around the world for its humane treatment of prisoners of war. This implies that by World War II the Japanese military had lost the humanity of bushido.

Katsu Kaishu, San Francisco, 1860: used in “Samurai Revolution” courtesy of Ishiguro Keisho

Katsu Kaishu, “the shogun’s last samurai” of my Samurai Revolution, had the following to say about bushido in the 1890s, long after the demise of the samurai class:“The samurai spirit must in time disappear. Although it’s certainly unfortunate, it doesn’t surprise me at all. I have long known that this would happen with the end of feudalism. But even now, if I were extremely wealthy, I’m sure that I’d be able to restore that spirit within four of five years. The reason for this is simple. During the feudal era the samurai had neither to till the fields nor sell things. They had the farmers and the merchants do that work for them, while they received stipends from their feudal lords. They could idle away their time from morning until evening without having to worry about not having enough to eat. And so all they had to do . . . was to read books and make a fuss about such things as loyalty and honor. So, when feudalism ended and the samurai lost their stipends, it was only natural for the samurai spirit to gradually wither away. If now they were given money and allowed to take things easy like in the old days, I’m sure that bushido could be restored.”

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A widely covered recent New York Times article (“Calls Grow in China to Press Claim for Okinawa,” June 14, 2013), regarding the question of who owns Okinawa, Japan or China, omitted some important historical and cultural facts that must be considered for a more informed discussion of this potentially volatile issue. The article cites a Chinese official’s argument against Japan’s sovereignty over the Ryukyus “because its inhabitants paid tribute to Chinese emperors hundreds of years before they started doing so in Japan.” It also quotes a Boston University professor that Japan conquered the Ryukyus in 1609. While it is true that the Ryukyus had been under the nominal suzerainty of China since 1372, it is a misconception of Japanese history to say that the Ryukyus paid tribute to Japan or that Japan conquered the Ryukyus in the 17^th century.

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