THE MEIJI GOVERNMENT
THE LEADERS OF REFORM
IN describing the events that culminated in the fall of the Tokugawa,
frequent references have been made to the feudatories. But it should
be clearly understood that the feudal chiefs themselves had very
little to do with the consummation of this great change. "The men
that conceived and achieved the Revolution of 1867, were chiefly
samurai of inferior grade." They numbered fifty-five in all, and of
these only thirteen were aristocrats, namely, five feudal barons and
eight court nobles. The average age of these fifty-five did not
exceed thirty years.
THE EMPEROR'S OATH
The great clans which took part in bringing about this restoration of
the administrative power to the Emperor did not altogether trust one
another. Hitherto, all political commotions had been planned for the
sake of some prominent family or eminent leader, and had resulted
merely in altering the personnel of those occupying the seats of
power. It was not unnatural that history should have been expected to
repeat itself in 1867, especially since the clan mainly responsible,
Satsuma, overshadowed all its associates with one exception.
Therefore, to many onlookers it seemed that the Tokugawa Government
had been overthrown to make room for the all-powerful southern
feudatory. In order to provide a safeguard against such a danger, the
young Emperor was asked to make oath that a broadly based
deliberative assembly should be convened for the purpose of
conducting State affairs in conformity with public opinion. This
"coronation oath," as it was subsequently called, came to occupy an
important place in political appreciation, and to be interpreted as a
promise of a national assembly. But most assuredly it was not
originally intended to carry any such meaning. Its framers never
contemplated a parliament in the Occidental sense of the term. Their
sole object was to place a barrier in the path of their own selfish
ambitions.
ABOLITION OF FEUDALISM
It is more than doubtful whether the abolition of the feudal system
found a place in the original plan of the leaders of progress.
Looking back to remote centuries, they may well have imagined that
the unification of the empire under one supreme ruler, administering
as well as governing, was not incompatible with the existence of the
fiefs. But when they examined the problem more closely, they
recognized that a universally operative system of laws, a central
treasury, and the supreme command of the nation's armaments were
essential to the end they had in view, namely, strength derived from
unity. Hitherto, each feudatory had assessed and collected taxes
within his fief according to his own free-will, had exercised the
right of legislation, and had held the command of all troops within
his territories.
The continuance of such conditions would have defeated the purpose of
the reformers. This they recognized. But how were these prescriptive
privileges to be abolished? An Imperial mandate might indeed have
been issued, but even an Imperial mandate without the means of
enforcing it would probably have proved futile. In fact, compulsion
in any form could not be employed: the only resource was persuasion.
The feudatories of Satsuma, Choshu, Tosa, and Hizen were the four
most puissant in the empire. They were persuaded to surrender their
fiefs to the Throne and to ask for reorganization under a uniform
system of law. This example found many imitators. Out of the whole
276 feudatories only seventeen failed to make a similar surrender. It
was a wonderful display of patriotic altruism in the case of some, at
any rate, of the daimyo. But, at the same time, many undoubtedly
obeyed the suggestions of their chief vassals without fully
appreciating the cost of obedience. It had long been their habit to
abandon the management of their affairs to seneschals (karo), and
they followed the custom on this occasion without profound
reflection.
With the samurai at large, however, the case was different. For them,
the preservation of the fief had always been the prime object of
interest and fealty. To uphold it concerned their honour; to preserve
it, their means of livelihood. Nothing could have been more
remarkable than that these men should have quietly acquiesced in the
surrender of legislative and financial autonomy by their chiefs. The
most credible explanation is that on this great occasion the samurai
obeyed their habitual custom of associating some form of
self-immolation with every signal deed.
THE NEW ORGANIZATION
The total abolition of feudalism may be said to have now come in
sight, but the leading progressists adopted all precautions to
consummate their programme without disturbance. They resolved to
preserve, at the outset, the semblance of the old system, and to that
end the ex-feudatories were nominated to the post of governor in the
districts where they had formerly exercised autonomic power. The
samurai, however, were left in possession of their incomes and
official positions. It was enacted that each governor should receive
yearly one-tenth of the revenue of his former fief; that the
emoluments of the samurai should be taken in full from the same
source, and that the surplus, if any, should go to the Central
Government.
The latter was organized with seven departments, namely, Religion,
Home Affairs, Foreign Affairs, Army and Navy, Finance, Justice, and
Law. This Cabinet was presided over by a premier--necessarily an
Imperial prince--and by a vice-premier. Moreover, it was assisted by
a body of eighteen councillors, who comprised the leaders of reform.
Evidently, however, all this was only partial. It is true that the
fiefs (hari) had been converted into prefectures (ken), and it is
also true that the daimyo had become mere governors. But, on the
other hand, the local revenues continued to pass through the hands of
the governors, and in the same hands remained the control of the
samurai and the right of appointing and dismissing prefectural
officials. A substantial beginning had been made, however, and
presently another appeal being addressed to the ex-daimyo, they were
induced to petition for the surrender of their local autonomy. The
same plan was pursued in the case of the samurai. It was essential
that these should cease to be hereditary soldiers and officials and
should be reabsorbed into the mass of the people from whom they had
sprung originally. Following the course which had proved so
successful with the feudatories, a number of samurai were induced to
memorialize for permission to lay aside their swords and revert to
agriculture. But neither in the case of the feudatories nor in that
of the samurai were these self-sacrificing petitions carried into
immediate practice. They merely served as models.
CLAN REPRESENTATION
It may well be supposed that the ambitions of the great clans by
which this revolution has been effected proved somewhat difficult
to reconcile. The Satsuma feudatory was the first to take umbrage.
He contended that, in selecting the high officials of the new
organization, sufficient account had not been taken of the services
of his fief. With considerable difficulty he was satisfied by his
own appointment to an office second only to that of prime minister.
This incident led, however, to an agreement under which each of
the great clans, Satsuma, Choshu, Hizen, and Tosa, should be
equally represented in the Government. Thus, the "principle
of clan-representation received practical recognition in the
organization of the Government. It continued to be recognized for
many years, and ultimately became the chief target of attack by
party-politicians." It was further arranged, at this time, that each
of the above four clans should furnish a contingent of troops to
guard the sovereign's person and to form the nucleus of a national
army.
ABOLITION OF LOCAL AUTONOMY
It being now considered safe to advance to the next stage of the
mediatization of the fiefs, the Emperor issued an edict abolishing
local autonomy; removing the sometime daimyo from their post of
prefectural governor; providing that the local revenues should
thereafter be sent into the central treasury; declaring the
appointment and dismissal of officials to be among the prerogatives
of the Imperial Government; directing that the ex-feudatories should
continue to receive one-tenth of their former incomes but that they
should make Tokyo* their place of permanent residence, and ordaining
that the samurai should be left in continued and undisturbed
possession of all their hereditary pensions and allowances.
*Yedo was now called Tokyo, or "Eastern Capital;" and Kyoto was named
Saikyo, or "Western Capital."
These changes were not so momentous as might be supposed at first
sight. It is true that the ex-feudatories were reduced to the
position of private gentlemen without even a patent of nobility. But,
as a matter of fact, the substance of administrative power had never
been possessed by them: it had been left in most cases to their
seneschals. Thus, the loss of what they had never fully enjoyed did
not greatly distress them. Moreover, they were left in possession of
the accumulated funds of their former fiefs, and, at the same time,
an income of one-tenth of their feudal revenues was guaranteed to
them--a sum which generally exceeded their former incomes when from
the latter had been deducted all charges on account of the
maintenance of the fiefs. Therefore, the sacrifice they were required
to make was not so bitter after all, but that it was a very
substantial sacrifice there can be no question.
THE SAMURAI'S POSITION
The above edict was promulgated on August 29, 1871; that is to say,
nearly four years after the fall of the Tokugawa. The samurai,
however, remained to be dealt with. Feudalism could not be said to
have been abolished so long as the samurai continued to be a class
apart. These men numbered four hundred thousand and with their
families represented a total of about two million souls. They were
the empire's soldiers, and in return for devoting their lives to
military service they held incomes, some for life, others hereditary,
and these emoluments aggregated two millions sterling annually. No
reformer, however radical, would have suggested the sudden
disestablishment of the samurai system or advocated the wholesale
deprivation of incomes won by their forefathers as a reward for loyal
service to the State or to the fiefs.
The Government dealt with this problem much as it had done with the
problem of the feudatories. In 1873, an Imperial decree announced
that the treasury was ready to commute the samurai's incomes on the
basis of six-years' purchase in the place of hereditary pensions and
four years for life-pensions, half of the money to be paid in cash
and the remainder in bonds carrying eight per cent, interest. This
measure was in no sense compulsory; the samurai were free to accept
or reject it. Not a few chose the former course, but a large majority
continued to wear their swords and draw their pensions as of old. The
Government, however, felt that there could be no paltering with the
situation. Shortly after the issue of the above edict a conscription
law was enacted, by which every adult male became liable for military
service, whatever his social status. Naturally, this law shocked the
samurai. The heavy diminution of their incomes hurt them less,
perhaps, than the necessity of laying aside their swords and of
giving up their traditional title to represent their country in arms.
They had imagined that service in the army and navy would be reserved
exclusively for them and their sons, whereas by the conscription law
the commonest unit of the people became equally eligible.
ENGRAVING: KIDO KOIN
FRICTION AMONG THE LEADERS OF REFORM
It could not have: been expected that this manner of treating the
samurai would obtain universal approval. Already, too, the strain of
constructive statesmanship had developed friction among the
progressist leaders who had easily marched abreast for destructive
purposes. They differed about the subject of a national assembly,
some being inclined to attach more practical importance than others
to the Emperor's coronation oath that a broadly based deliberative
assembly should be convened. A small number of zealous reformers
wished to regard this as a promise of a national assembly, but the
great majority of the progressist leaders interpreted it merely as a
guarantee against the undue preponderance of any one clan. In fact,
according to the view of the latter party the broadly based
deliberative assembly was regarded solely as an instrument for
eliciting the views of the samurai, and entirely without legislative
power. Such an assembly was actually convened in the early years of
the Meiji era, but its second session proved it to be nothing more
than a debating club and it was suffered to lapse out of existence.
A more perplexing problem now (1873) presented itself, however. The
Korean Court deliberately abandoned the custom followed by it since
the time of Hideyoshi's invasion--the custom of sending a
present-bearing embassy to felicitate the accession of each shogun.
Moreover, this step was accompanied by an offensive despatch
announcing a determination to cease all relations with a renegade
from the civilization of the Orient. It may well be imagined how
indignantly this attitude of the neighbouring kingdom was resented by
Japan. The prominent leaders of national reform at that time were
Sanjo and Iwakura, originally Court nobles;* Saigo and Okubo, samurai
of Satsuma, and Kido, a samurai of Choshu. In the second rank were
several men destined afterwards to attain great celebrity--the late
Prince Ito, Marquis Inouye, Count Okuma, Count Itagaki--often spoken
of as the "Rousseau of Japan"--and several others.
*The distinction between Court nobles and territorial nobles had been
abolished in 1871.
ENGRAVING: SANJO SANETOMI
The first five, however, were pre-eminent at the moment when Korea
sent her offensive message. They were not, however, absolutely united
as to policy. Saigo Takamori held some conservative opinions, the
chief of which was that he wished to preserve the military class in
their old position of the empire's only soldiers. He had, therefore,
greatly resented the conscription law, and while his discontent was
still fresh, the Korean problem presented itself for solution. In
Saigo's eyes an oversea war offered the only chance of saving the
samurai, since the conscription law had not yet produced any
trustworthy soldiers. He therefore voted to draw the sword at once,
and in this he obtained the support of several influential men who
burned to avenge the nation's disgrace. On the other hand, those in
favour of peace insisted that the country must not venture to engage
in a foreign war during the era of radical transition.
The discussion was carried to the Emperor's presence; the peace-party
prevailed, and Saigo with three other Cabinet ministers resigned. One
of the seceders, Eto Shimpei, had recourse to arms, but was speedily
crushed. Another, Itagaki Taisuke, from that moment stood forth as
the champion of representative institutions. The third, the most
prominent of all, Saigo Takamori, retired to Satsuma and devoted
himself to organizing and equipping a strong body of samurai. It is
not by any means clear that, in thus acting, Saigo had any
revolutionary intention. Posterity agrees in thinking that he sought
to exercise control rather than to inspire revolt. He had the support
of Shimazu Saburo (Hisamitsu), former feudatory of Satsuma, who,
although a reformer, resented a wholesale abandonment of Japanese
customs in favour of foreign. The province of Satsuma thus became a
seed-plot of conservative influences, where "Saigo and his constantly
augmenting band of samurai found a congenial environment." On the one
hand, the Central Government steadily proceeded with the organization
of a conscript army, teaching it foreign tactics and equipping it
with foreign arms. On the other, the southern clan cherished its band
of samurai, arming them with the rifle and drilling them in the
manner of Europe, but leaving them always in possession of the
samurai's sword.
ENGRAVING: IWAKURA TOMOYOSHI
THE FORMOSAN EXPEDITION
Before these curious conditions bore any practical fruit, Japan found
it necessary to send a military expedition to Formosa. That island
was claimed as part of China's domains, but it was not administered
by her effectively, and its inhabitants showed great barbarity in
their treatment of castaways from the Ryukyu, or Loochoo, Islands.
The Chinese Government's plain function was to punish these acts of
cruelty, but as the Peking statesmen showed no disposition to
discharge their duty in that respect, Japan took the law into her own
hands. A double purpose was thus served. For the expedition to
Formosa furnished employment for the Satsuma samurai, and, at the
same time, assured the Ryukyu islanders that Japan was prepared to
protect them.
The campaign in Formosa proved a very tame affair. It amounted to the
shooting-down of a few semi-savages. No attempt was made to penetrate
into the ulterior of the island, where, as modern experience shows,
many great difficulties would have had to be overcome. Peking took
serious umbrage on account of Japan's high-handed conduct--for such
it seemed to Chinese eyes. In the first place, the statesmen of the
Middle Kingdom contended that the Ryukyu Islands could not properly
be regarded as an integral part of the Japanese empire; and in the
second place, they claimed that, in attacking Formosa, Japan had
invaded Chinese territory. After a long interchange of despatches the
Tokyo Government sent an ambassador to Peking, and a peaceful
solution was found in the payment by China of a small indemnity, and
the recognition of Formosa as a part of the Middle Kingdom.*
*The indemnity amounted to 500,000 dollars (Mexican).
THE KOREAN QUESTION AGAIN
The Formosan expedition took place in 1874, and, in the fall of 1875,
a Korean fort opened fire on a Japanese warship which was engaged in
surveying the coast. Such an insult could not be tamely endured.
Japan marshalled an imposing number of warships and transports, but,
following the example set in her own case by Commodore Perry, she
employed this flotilla to intimidate Korea into signing a treaty of
amity and commerce and opening certain ports to foreign trade. Thus,
Korea was drawn from her hereditary isolation, and to Japan fell the
credit of having become an instrument for extending the principle of
universal intercourse which she had herself so stoutly opposed during
two and a half centuries. It was a clever coup, but it earned little
credit with the samurai. They regarded such a settlement as
derogatory to their country.
ABOLITION OF THE SAMURAI
It was at this stage that the Tokyo Government felt itself strong
enough to resort to conclusive measures in the cases of the samurai.
Three years had now passed since the wearing of swords had been
declared optional and since a scheme for the voluntary commutation of
the samurai's pensions had been elaborated. The leaders of progress
felt that the time had now come to make these measures compulsory,
and, accordingly, two edicts were issued in that sense. The edicts,
especially their financial provisions, imposed a heavy sacrifice. But
it is very noticeable that the momentary question evoked no protests.
It was to the loss of their swords that a number of samurai objected
strenuously. Some scores of them, wearing old-fashioned armour and
equipped with hereditary weapons, attacked a castle, killed or
wounded three hundred of the garrison, and then died by their own
hands. Here and there throughout the empire a few equally vain
protests were raised, and finally the Satsuma samurai took the field.
THE SATSUMA REBELLION
This insurrection in the south severely taxed the resources of the
Central Government. The Satsuma samurai were led by Saigo Takamori,
but it has always been claimed for him that he undertook the command,
not for the purpose of overthrowing the Meiji Government, but in the
hope of restraining his followers. Ultimately, however, he seems to
have been swept away by the tide of their enthusiasm. The insurgents
numbered some forty thousand; they all belonged to the samurai class,
were fully trained in Occidental tactics, and were equipped with
rifles and field-guns. Their avowed purpose was to restore the
military class to its old position, and to insure to it all the posts
in the army and the navy.
Fighting began on January 29, 1877, and ended on September 24th of
the same year. All the rebel leaders fell in battle or died by their
own hands. During these eight months of warfare, the Government put
sixty-six thousand men into the field, and the casualties on both
sides totalled thirty-five thousand, or thirty-three per cent, of the
whole. Apart from the great issue directly at stake, namely, whether
Japan should have a permanent military class, a secondary problem of
much interest found a solution in the result. It was the problem
whether an army of conscripts, supposed to be lacking in the fighting
instinct and believed to be incapable of standing up to do battle
with the samurai, could hold its own against the flower of the bushi,
as the Satsuma men undoubtedly were. There really never was any
substantial reason for doubt about such a subject. The samurai were
not racially distinct from the bulk of the nation. They had
originally been mere farmers, possessing no special military
aptitude. Nevertheless, among all the reforms introduced during the
Meiji era, none was counted so hazardous as the substitution of a
conscript army for the nation's traditional soldiers. The Satsuma
rebellion disposed finally of the question.
ENGRAVING: SAIGO TAKAMORI
EDUCATION OF THE NATION
Meanwhile the Government had been strenuously seeking to equip the
people with the products of Western civilization. It has been shown
that the men who sat in the seats of power during the first decade of
the Meiji era owed their exalted position to their own intellectual
superiority and far-seeing statesmanship. That such men should become
the nation's teachers would have been natural anywhere. But in Japan
there was a special reason for the people's need of official
guidance. It had become a traditional habit of the Japanese to look
to officialdom for example and direction in everything, and this
habit naturally asserted itself with special force when there was
question of assimilating a foreign civilization which for nearly
three centuries had been an object of national repugnance. The
Government, in short, had to inspire the reform movement and, at the
same time, to furnish models of its working.
The task was approached with wholesale energy by those in power. In
general the direction of the work was divided among foreigners of
different nations. Frenchmen were employed in revising the criminal
code and in teaching strategy and tactics to the Japanese army. The
building of railways, the installation of telegraphs and of
lighthouses, and the new navy were turned over to English engineers
and sailors. Americans were employed in the formation of a postal
service, in agricultural reforms, and in planning colonization and an
educational system. In an attempt to introduce Occidental ideas of
art Italian sculptors and painters were brought to Japan. And German
experts were asked to develop a system of local government, to train
Japanese physicians, and to educate army officers. Great misgivings
were expressed by foreign onlookers at this juncture. They found it
impossible to believe that such wholesale adoption of an alien
civilization could not be attended with due eclecticism, and they
constantly predicted a violent reaction. But all these pessimistic
views were contradicted by results. There was no reaction, and the
memory of the apprehensions then freely uttered finds nothing but
ridicule to-day.
FINANCE
One of the chief difficulties with which the Meiji statesmen had to
contend was finance. When they took over the treasury from the Bakufu
there were absolutely no funds in hand, and for some years, as has
been shown above, all the revenues of the former fiefs were locally
expended, no part of them, except a doubtful surplus, finding its way
to the Imperial treasury. The only resource was an issue of paper
money. Such tokens of exchange had been freely employed since the
middle of the seventeenth century, and at the time of the
mediatization of the fiefs, 1694 kinds of notes were in circulation.
The first business of the Government should have been to replace
these unsecured tokens with uniform and sound media of exchange. But
instead of performing that duty the Meiji statesmen saw themselves
compelled to follow the evil example set by the fiefs in past times.
Government notes were issued. They fell at the outset to a discount
of fifty per cent, and various devices, more or less despotic, were
employed to compel their circulation at par. By degrees, however, the
Government's credit improved, and thus, though the issues of
inconvertible notes aggregated sixty million yen at the close of the
first five years of the Meiji era, they passed freely from hand to
hand without discount. But, of course, the need for funds in
connexion with the wholesale reforms and numerous enterprises
inaugurated officially became more and more pressing, so that in the
fourteenth year (1881) after the Restoration, the face value of the
notes in circulation aggregated 180 million yen, and they stood at a
heavy discount.
The Government, after various tentative and futile efforts to correct
this state of depreciation, set themselves to deal radically with the
problem. Chiefly by buying exporters' bills and further by reducing
administrative expenditures as well as by taxing alcohol, a
substantial specie reserve was gradually accumulated, and, by 1885,
the volume of fiduciary notes having been reduced to 119 millions,
whereas the treasury vaults contained forty-five millions of precious
metals, the resumption of specie payments was announced. As for the
national debt, it had its origin in the commutation of the
feudatories' incomes and the samurai's pensions. A small fraction of
these outlays was defrayed with ready money, but the great part took
the form of public loan-bonds. These bonds constituted the bulk of
the State's liabilities during the first half-cycle of the Meiji era,
and when we add the debts of the fiefs, which the Central Government
took over; two small foreign loans; the cost of quelling the Satsuma
rebellion, and various debts incurred on account of public works,
naval construction, and minor purposes, we arrive at the broad fact
that the entire national debt of Japan did not exceed 305 million yen
at the close of the twenty-eighth year of her new era.
A war with China in 1894-1895--to be presently spoken of--and a war
with Russia in 1904-1905, together with the price paid for the
nationalization of railways and for various undertakings, brought the
whole debt of the nation to 2300 million yen in 1907, which is now
being paid off at the rate of fifty million yen annually. It remains
to be noted that, in 1897, Japan took the momentous step of adopting
gold monometallism. The indemnity which she obtained from China after
the war of 1894-1895 brought to her treasury a stock of gold
sufficient to form a substantial specie reserve. Moreover, gold had
appreciated so that its value in terms of silver had exactly doubled
during the first thirty years of the Meiji era. There was
consequently no arithmetical complication connected with the adoption
of the single gold standard. It was only necessary to double the
denomination, leaving the silver subsidiary coins unchanged.
EDUCATION
In the field of education the Meiji statesmen effected speedy
reforms. Comparatively little attention had been directed to this
subject by the rulers of medieval Japan, and the fact that the Meiji
leaders appreciated the necessity of studying the arts and sciences
of the new civilization simultaneously with the adoption of its
products, bears strong testimony to the insight of these remarkable
men. Very shortly after the abolition of feudalism, an extensive
system of public schools was organized and education was made
compulsory. There were schools, colleges, and universities, all
modelled on foreign lines with such alterations as the special
customs of the nation dictated. These institutions grew steadily in
public favour, and to-day over ninety per cent, of boys and girls who
have attained the school age receive education in the common
elementary schools, the average annual cost per child being about 8s.
6d. ($2.00), to which the parents contribute 1.75d. (3.5 cents) per
month. Youths receiving education enjoy certain exemption from
conscription, but as this is in strict accordance with the Western
system, it need not be dwelt upon here.
LOCAL ADMINISTRATION
For purposes of local administration the empire is divided into
prefectures (ken), counties (gun), towns (shi), and districts (cho or
son). The three metropolitan prefectures of Tokyo, Osaka, and Kyoto
are called fu, and their districts are distinguished as "urban" (cho)
and "rural" (son), according to the number of houses they contain.
The prefectures derive their names from their chief towns. The
principle of popular representation is strictly adhered to, every
prefecture, every county, every town, and every district having its
own local assembly, wherein the number of members is fixed in
proportion to the population. These bodies are all elected. The
enjoyment of the franchise depends upon a property qualification
which, in the case of prefectural and county assemblies, is an annual
payment of direct national taxes to the amount of three yen (6s.,
$1.50); in the case of town and district assemblies two yen; and in
the case of prefectural assemblies, ten yen. There are other
arrangements to secure the due representation of property, the
electors being divided into classes according to their aggregate
payment to the national treasury. Three such classes exist, and each
elects one-third of an assembly's members. There is no payment for
the members of an assembly, but all salaried officials, ministers of
religion, and contractors for public works, as well as persons unable
to write their own names and the names of the candidates for whom
they vote, are denied the franchise.
A prefectural assembly holds one session of thirty days annually; and
a county assembly, one session of not more than fourteen days; while
the town and district assemblies are summoned by the mayor or the
headman whenever recourse to their deliberation appears expedient.
Each prefecture has a prefect (governor) and each county assembly has
a headman. Both are appointed by the Central Administration, but an
assembly has competence to appeal to the minister of Home Affairs
from the prefect's decisions. In the districts, also, there are
headmen, but their post is always elective and generally
non-salaried. Other details of the local-government system are here
omitted. It suffices to say that the system has been in operation for
over thirty years and has been found satisfactory in practice.
Moreover, these assemblies constitute excellent schools for the
political education of the people.
THE CONSTITUTION
It has already been shown that the sovereign's so-called coronation
oath did not contemplate a national assembly in the Western sense of
the term. The first assembly convened in obedience to the oath
consisted of nobles and samurai only, and was found to be a virtually
useless body. Not till 1873, when Itagaki Taisuke, seceding from the
Cabinet on account of the Korean complication, became a warm advocate
of appealing national questions to an elective assembly, did the
people at large come to understand what was involved in such an
institution. Thenceforth Itagaki became the centre of a more or less
enthusiastic group of men advocating a parliamentary system, some
from sincere motives, and others from a conviction that their failure
to obtain posts was in a manner due to the oligarchical form of their
country's polity.
When the Satsuma rebellion broke out, four years later, this band of
Tosa agitators memorialized the Government, charging it with
administering affairs in despite of public opinion; with ignoring
popular rights, and with levelling down instead of up, since the
samurai had been reduced to the class of commoners, whereas the
latter should have been educated to the standard of the former. But
the statesmen in power insisted that the nation was not yet ready to
enjoy constitutional privileges. They did not, indeed, labour under
any delusion as to the ultimate direction in which their reforms
tended, but they were determined to move gradually, not
precipitately. They had already (1874) arranged for the convention of
an annual assembly of prefects who should act as channels of
communication between the central authorities and the people in the
provinces. This was designed to be the embryo of representative
institutions, though obviously it bore that character in a very
limited degree only.
In the following year (1875), the second step was taken by organizing
a Senate (Genro-in), which consisted of official nominees and was
charged with the duty of discussing and revising laws and ordinances
prior to their promulgation. But it had no power of initiative, and
its credit in the eyes of the nation was more or less injured by the
fact that its members consisted for the most part of men for whom no
posts could be found in the administration and who, without some
steadying influence, might have been drawn into the current of
discontent.
At this stage, an event occurred which probably moved the Government
to greater expedition. In the spring of 1878, the great statesman,
Okubo Toshimitsu, who had acted such a prominent part on the stage of
the reformation drama, was assassinated. His slayers were avowedly
sympathizers of Saigo, but in their statement of motives they
assigned as their principal incentive the Government's failure to
establish representative institutions. They belonged to a province
far removed from Satsuma, and their explanation of the murder showed
that they had little knowledge of Saigo's real sentiments. But the
nation saw in them champions of a constitutional form of government,
and the authorities appreciated the necessity of greater expedition.
Thus, two months after Okubo's death, the establishment of elective
assemblies in the prefectures and cities was proclaimed.
ENGRAVING: OKUBO TOSHIMITSU
Reference has already been made to these and it will suffice here to
note that their principal functions were to determine the amount and
object of local taxes; to audit the accounts for the previous year;
and to petition the Central Government, should that seem expedient.
These assemblies represented the foundations of genuinely
representative institutions, for although they lacked legislative
power, they discharged parliamentary functions in other respects. In
fact, they served as excellent training schools for the future Diet.
But this did not at all satisfy Itagaki and his followers. They had
now persuaded themselves that without a national assembly it would be
impossible to oust the clique of clansmen who monopolized the prizes
of power. Accordingly, Itagaki organized an association called
Jiyu-to (Liberals), the first political party in Japan. Between the
men in office and these visionary agitators a time of friction, more
or less severe, ensued. The Government withheld from the people the
privileges of free speech and public meeting, so that the press and
the platform found themselves in frequent collision with the police.
Thus, little by little, the Liberals came to be regarded as victims
of official tyranny, so that they constantly obtained fresh
adherents.
Three years subsequently (1881), another political crisis occurred.
Okuma Shigenobu resigned his portfolio, and was followed into private
life by many able politicians and administrators. These organized
themselves into a party ultimately called Progressists (Shimpo-to),
who, although they professed the same doctrine as the Liberals, were
careful to maintain an independent attitude; thus showing that
"Japan's first political parties were grouped, not about principles,
but about persons."*
*Encyclopaedia Britannica (11th edition); article "Japan," by
Brinkley.
It must not be supposed for a moment that the Progressists were
conservative. There was no such thing as real conservatism in Japan
at that time. The whole nation exhaled the breath of progress.
Okuma's secession was followed quickly by an edict promising the
convention of a national assembly in ten years. Confronted by this
engagement, the political parties might have been expected to lay
down their arms. But a great majority of them aimed at ousting the
clan-statesmen rather than at setting up a national assembly. Thus,
having obtained a promise of a parliament, they applied themselves to
exciting anti-official sentiments in the future electorates; and as
the Government made no attempt to controvert the prejudices thus
excited, it was evident that when the promised parliament came into
existence, it would become an arena for vehement attacks upon the
Cabinet.
Of course, as might have been expected, the ten years of agitated
waiting, between 1881 and 1891, were often disfigured by recourse to
violence. Plots to assassinate ministers; attempts to employ
dynamite; schemes to bring about an insurrection in Korea--such
things were not infrequent. There were also repeated dispersions of
political meetings by order of police inspectors, as well as
suspensions or suppressions of newspapers by the fiat of the Home
minister. Ultimately it became necessary to enact a law empowering
the police to banish persons of doubtful character from Tokyo without
legal trial, and even to arrest and detain such persons on suspicion.
In 1887, the Progressist leader, Okuma, rejoined the Cabinet for a
time as minister of Foreign Affairs, but after a few months of office
his leg was shattered by a bomb and he retired into private life and
founded the Waseda University in Tokyo.
It may indeed be asserted that during the decade immediately prior to
the opening of the national assembly, "an anti-Government propaganda
was incessantly preached from the platform and in the press." The
Tokyo statesmen, however, were not at all discouraged. They proceeded
with their reforms unflinchingly. In 1885, the ministry was recast,
Ito Hirobumi--the same Prince Ito who afterwards fell in Manchuria
under the pistol of an assassin--being appointed premier and the
departments of State being reorganized on European lines. Then a
nobility was created, with five orders, prince, marquis, count,
viscount, and baron. The civil and penal laws were codified. The
finances were placed on a sound footing. A national bank with a
network of subordinate institutions was established. Railway
construction was pushed on steadily. Postal and telegraph services
were extended. The foundations of a strong mercantile marine were
laid. A system of postal savings-banks was instituted. Extensive
schemes of harbour improvement, roads, and riparian works were
planned and put into operation. The portals of the civil service were
made accessible solely by competitive examination. A legion of
students was sent westward to complete their education, and the
country's foreign affairs were managed with comparative skill.
PROMULGATION OF THE CONSTITUTION
On the 11th of February, 1889, the Constitution was promulgated amid
signs of universal rejoicing. The day was signalized, however, by a
terrible deed. Viscount Mori, one of Japan's most enlightened
statesmen, was stabbed to death by Nishino Buntaro, a mere stripling,
the motive being to avenge what the murderer regarded as a
sacrilegious act, namely, that the viscount, when visiting the shrine
at Ise in the previous year, had partially raised one of the curtains
with his cane. The explanation given of this extraordinary act by a
modern historian is that "Japan was suffering at the time from an
attack of hysterical loyalty, and the shrine at Ise being dedicated
to the progenitrix of the country's sovereigns, it seemed to Nishino
Buntaro that when high officials began to touch the sacred
paraphernalia with walking-sticks, the foundations of Imperialism
were menaced." An interesting light is thrown upon the Japanese
character in the sequel of this crime. During many subsequent years
the tomb of Nishino received the homage of men and women who
"worshipped achievement without regard to the nature of the thing
achieved." There was a similar furore of enthusiasm over the would-be
assassin of Okuma.
PROVISIONS OF THE CONSTITUTION
The framers of the Constitution, chief among whom was Prince Ito,
naturally took care not to make its provisions too liberal. The
minimum age for electors and elected was fixed at twenty-five and the
property qualification at payment of direct taxes aggregating not
less than fifteen yen (30s. $7.20) annually.
A bicameral system was adopted. The House of Peers was in part
hereditary, in part elective (one representative of the highest
tax-payers in each prefecture), and in part nominated by the
sovereign (from among men of signal attainments), while the House of
Representatives consisted of three hundred elected members. In the
eyes of party politicians this property qualification was much too
high; it restricted the number of franchise-holders to 460,000 in a
nation of nearly fifty millions. A struggle for the extension of the
franchise commenced immediately, and, after nearly ten years, the
Government framed a bill lowering the qualification to ten yen for
electors; dispensing with it altogether in the case of candidates;
inaugurating secret ballots; extending the limits of the electorates
so as to include the whole of a prefecture, and increasing the
members of the lower house to 363. By this change of qualification
the number of franchise holders was nearly doubled.
ENGRAVING: THE LATE PRINCE ITO
As for the provisions of the Constitution, they differed in no
respect from those of the most advanced Western standard. One
exception to this statement must be noted, however. The wording of
the document lent itself to the interpretation that a ministry's
tenure of office depended solely on the sovereign's will. In other
words, a Cabinet received its mandate from the Throne, not from the
Diet. This reservation immediately became an object of attack by
party politicians. They did not venture to protest against the
arrangement as an Imperial prerogative. The people would not have
endured such a protest. The only course open for the party
politicians was to prove practically that a ministry not responsible
to the legislature is virtually impotent for legislation.
Success has not attended this essay. The Throne continues, nominally
at all events, to appoint and dismiss ministers. As for the
proceedings of the diet, the most salient feature was that, from the
very outset, the party politicians in the lower chamber engaged in
successive attacks upon the holders of power. This had been fully
anticipated; for during the whole period of probation antecedent to
the meeting of the first Diet, the party politicians had been
suffered to discredit the Cabinet by all possible means, whereas the
Cabinet had made no effort to win for themselves partisans in the
electorates. They relied wholly upon the sovereign's prerogative, and
stood aloof from alliances of any kind, apparently indifferent to
everything but their duty to their country. Fortunately, the House of
Peers ranged itself steadfastly on the side of the Cabinet throughout
this struggle, and thus the situation was often saved from apparently
pressing danger. The war with China (1894-1895) greatly enhanced the
Diet's reputation; for all the political parties, laying aside their
differences, without a dissenting voice voted funds for the
prosecution of the campaign.
POLITICAL PARTIES
During several years the House of Representatives continued to be
divided into two great parties with nearly equally balanced
power--the Liberals and the Progressists, together with a few minor
coteries. But, in 1898, the Liberals and Progressists joined hands,
thus coming to wield a large majority in the lower house. Forthwith,
the Emperor, on the advice of Prince Ito, invited Counts Okuma and
Itagaki to form a Cabinet. An opportunity was thus given to the
parties to prove the practical possibility of the system they had so
long lauded in theory. The united parties called themselves
Constitutionists (Kensei-to). Their union lasted barely six months,
and then "the new links snapped under the tension of the old
enmities."
A strange thing now happened. The Liberals invited Prince Ito to be
their leader, and he agreed on condition that his followers should
obey him implicitly. A new and powerful party was thus formed under
the designation of Friends of the Constitution (Rikken Seiyukai).
Thus, the Liberals not only enlisted under the statesmen whose
overthrow they had for nearly twenty years sought to effect, but also
they practically expunged from their platform an essential article of
faith--parliamentary cabinets. Another proof was here furnished that
political combinations in Japan were based rather on persons than on
principles.
As for the new party, even Prince Ito's wonderful talents and
unequalled prestige failed to hold successfully the reins of the
heterogeneous team which he had now undertaken to drive. The House of
Peers opposed him on account of his association with political
parties, and he at once resigned the premiership. The party he had
formed did not, however, dissolve. Prince Ito, indeed, stepped out of
its ranks, but he was succeeded by his intimate friend, Marquis
Saionji, one of Japan's blue-blooded aristocrats, and to him the
Constitutionists have yielded implicit obedience ever since. For the
rest, it is impossible to foresee what the outcome of the
parliamentary system will be in Japan. Up to the present the
principal lesson learned by politicians seems to have been the value
of patience. The Constitutionists have shown that they are quite
ready to support a Cabinet entirely independent of parties, where its
measures seem conducive to the nation's good. Such a Cabinet was that
of Prince Katsura, who, in turn, after three years' tenure of office,
stepped down quietly in August, 1911, to make way for the
Constitutionists, under Marquis Saionji. In a word, the nation seems
to have arrived at the conclusion that these parliamentary problems
cannot be safely solved except by long and deliberate experiment.*
*For minute information about party politics and parliamentary
procedure see the "Oriental Series," Vol. IV.
AGRICULTURE AND INDUSTRY
The growth of agricultural and industrial enterprise is one of the
most remarkable features of modern Japan. Up to the beginning of the
Meiji era, agriculture almost monopolized attention, manufacturing
industry being altogether of a domestic character. Speaking broadly,
the gross area of land in Japan, exclusive of Saghalien, Korea, and
Formosa is seventy-five million acres, and of this only some
seventeen millions are arable. It may well be supposed that as rice
is the principal staple of foodstuff, and as the area over which it
can be produced is so limited, the farmers have learned to apply very
intensive methods of cultivation. Thus it is estimated that they
spend annually twelve millions sterling--$60,000,000--on fertilizers.
By unflinching industry and skilled processes, the total yield of
rice has been raised to an annual average of about fifty million
koku; that is to say, two hundred and fifty million bushels. But the
day cannot be far distant when the growth of the population will
outstrip that of this essential staple, and unless the assistance of
Korea and Formosa can be successfully enlisted, a problem of extreme
difficulty may present itself. Meanwhile, manufacturing industry has
increased by leaps and bounds. Thus, whereas at the opening of the
Meiji era, every manufacture was of a domestic character, and such a
thing as a joint-stock company did not exist, there are now fully
11,000 factories giving employment to 700,000 operatives, and the
number of joint-stock companies aggregates 9000. Evidently, Japan
threatens to become a keen competitor of Europe and America in all
the markets of the Orient, for she possesses the advantage of
propinquity, and as well an abundance of easily trained labour. But
there are two important conditions that offset these advantages. In
the first place Japanese wages have increased so rapidly that in the
last fifteen years they have nearly doubled, and, secondly, it must
be remembered that Japanese labour is not so efficient as that of
Europe and America.
ENGRAVING: SEAL OF MUTSUHITO, THE LATE EMPEROR
RAILWAYS
The work of railway construction, which may be said to have commenced
with the Meiji era, has not advanced as rapidly as some other
undertakings. The country has now only 5770 miles of lines open to
traffic and 1079 miles under construction. All these railways may be
said to have been built with domestic capital. Nearly the whole was
nationalized in 1907, so that the State has paid out altogether
sixty-six million pounds sterling--$325,000,000--on account of
railways, an investment which yields a net return of about three and
a half millions sterling--$17,000,000--annually.
THE MERCANTILE MARINE
Another direction in which Japanese progress has been very marked is
in the development of a mercantile marine. At an early period of the
country's modern history, her statesmen recognized that transports
are as necessary to the safety of a State as are soldiers, and, in
fact, that the latter cannot be utilized without the former. The
Government, therefore, encouraged with liberal subsidies and
grants-in-aid the purchase or construction of ships, the result being
that whereas, in 1871, Japan's mercantile marine comprised only
forty-six ships with a total tonnage of 17,948, the corresponding
figures in 1910 were 6436 and 1,564,443 respectively. In the war with
China in 1894-1895, as well as in that with Russia in 1904-1905,
Japan was able to carry large armies to the Asiatic continent in her
own vessels, thus demonstrating the wisdom of the policy pursued by
the Government, although it had been habitually denounced by the
enemies of subsidies in any circumstances. Shipbuilding yards had
also been called into existence, and there are now four of them where
vessels aggregating 87,495 tons have been built.
THE ARMY
It has been seen that the Satsuma rebellion of 1877 severely taxed
the military resources of the empire. In fact, the organization of
special brigades to supplement the conscripts was found necessary.
Therefore, two years later, the conscription law was revised, the
total term of service being increased from seven years to ten, with
the result that the number of trained soldiers who could be called
out in case of war became larger by fully one-half. Further, in 1882,
another expansion of armaments was effected in obedience to an
Imperial decree, so that when war with China broke out in 1894, Japan
possessed an available force of seven divisions (including the
guards), and these, raised to a war-footing, represented about
150,000 men. She had already learned that, however civilized the
Occident might claim to be, all the great States of the West depended
mainly on military and naval force, and that only by a demonstration
of that force could international respect be won.
Of course, this creed was not publicly proclaimed. Firmly as Japanese
statesmen believed it, they could not confess their conviction openly
in the Diet, and therefore much difficulty was experienced in
inducing the two houses to endorse the Government's scheme of
increased armaments. Indeed, the subject came to be a frequent topic
of discussion between the Cabinet and the House of Representatives,
and in the end Japan was obliged to go into war against China without
a single line-of-battle ship, though her adversary possessed two.
Nevertheless, the Island Empire emerged signally victorious.
It might have been supposed that she would then rest content with the
assurance of safety her prowess had won. But, in the immediate sequel
of the war, three of the great European powers, Russia, Germany, and
France, joined hands to deprive Japan of the fruits of her victory by
calling upon her to vacate the southern littoral of Manchuria from
the mouth of the Yalu to the Liaotung peninsula. Japan thus acquired
the conviction that her successes against China were not estimated by
Western States as any great evidence of belligerent power, and that
it would be necessary for her to fight again if she hoped to win any
considerable measure of international respect. Prince Ito, then prime
minister, keenly appreciated this necessity. He invited the Diet to
vote for a substantial increment of land and sea forces, and after
much opposition in the House of Representatives, funds were obtained
for raising the army to thirteen divisions and for an increase of the
navy which will be by and by spoken of.
The wisdom of these measures found full justification, in 1904, when
swords had to be crossed with Russia. After that war, which raised
Japan to a leading place among the nations, the old problem came up
again for solution. Once more the Elder Statesmen--as the Meiji
leaders were called--asked the Diet to maintain the organization of
the army at the point to which it had been carried during the war,
and once more the lower house of the Diet proved very difficult to
persuade. Ultimately, however, the law of military service was
revised so that the fixed establishment became nineteen divisions,
together with various special corps. It is not possible to speak with
absolute accuracy of the force that Japan is now capable of
mobilizing, but when the new system is in full working order, she
will be able to put something like a million and a half of men into
the fighting line. Her military budget amounts to only seven millions
sterling--$35,000,000--a wonderfully small sum considering the
results obtained.
THE NAVY
It has been shown how, in the year 1636, the Bakufu Government
strictly interdicted the building of all vessels of ocean-going
capacity. The veto naturally precluded enterprise in the direction of
naval expansion, and when Commodore Perry, at the head of a powerful
squadron, arrived in Uraga Bay, two centuries afterwards, the
Japanese were suddenly and vividly instructed in the enormous power
of a nation wielding such weapons of war. This object lesson having
been most practically inculcated by the bombardments of Kagoshima and
Shimonoseki, Japan saw that she must not lose one moment in equipping
herself with a naval force. At first, she had to purchase all her
ships from foreign countries, and so difficult was it to obtain
parliamentary support for these acquisitions that, as already stated,
when war with the neighbouring empire broke out in 1894, she did not
possess a single ironclad, her strongest vessels being four
second-class cruisers, which, according to modern ideas, would not be
worthy of a place in the fighting line.
During the next ten years the teachings of experience took deeper
root, and when the great combat with Russia commenced, the Japanese
navy included four ironclads and six armoured cruisers. The signal
victories obtained by her in that war did not induce any sentiment of
self-complacency. She has gone on ever since increasing her navy, and
the present programme of her statesmen is that by the end of 1921,
she will possess twenty-five units of the first fighting line; that
figure being based on the principle that she should be competent to
encounter the greatest force which any foreign State, England
excluded, will be able to mass in Far Eastern waters ten years hence.
Her annual expenditure on account of the up-keep of her navy is at
present three and one-quarter million pounds sterling $17,000,000. No
feature is more remarkable than the fact that Japan can now build and
equip in her own yards and arsenals warships of the largest size. She
is no longer dependent on foreign countries for these essentials of
safety.
ENGRAVING: NIJU-BASHI (DOUBLE BRIDGE) (Entrance to the present
Imperial Palace, at Tokyo)