Asian Current

Japan Sweep towards Empire Part VI

Professor Teijiro Uyeda, one of Japan’s leading economists and a specialist on the population question, is convinced that Japan, like other countries which have gone through the process of industrialization and urbanization, will experience a gradual tapering off of the present sharp rate of increase in the number of its inhabitants. He points out that the birth rate has shown a tendency to decline (from 36.2 in 1920 to 31.6 in 1935) and foresees that in time this downward curve will be more significant than the simultaneous decline in the death rate. However, Professor Uyeda anticipates that for some time there will be no diminution in the annual number of young Japanese who come of working age, since a large child population has already been born. So the pressure of a rapidly growing population seems bound to influence Japan’s development for the next two decades at least.

The extremely strong position of the fighting services in the Japanese constitutional scheme of things has also unmistakably promoted the vigorous forward move on the Asiatic continent. Soldiers are sometimes willing to take risks of international antagonism from which diplomats might shrink. And the army has exerted a powerful influence on the shaping of foreign policy during the last six years.

Japanese army and navy officers have never taken kindly to the idea that the Diet should control the activities of their services. Japan perhaps came nearest to civilian control over the fighting services in 1930 when Premier Hamaguchi, an unusually forceful personality for a Japanese civilian, pushed through the ratification of the London Naval Treaty (This was concluded as a supplement to the Washington Naval Treaty of 1922.) against the recommendations of some high naval officers.

But this proved a Pyrrhic victory. Hamaguchi was shot by an enthusiastic nationalist and died of his wound. The agitation against the London Treaty hardened navy sentiment against any new ratio agreement which would bind Japan to maintain a position of inferiority to America and Great Britain in naval strength. There were echoes of the London Naval Treaty and of the supposed “usurpation of the imperial prerogative” by a civilian Premier in every nationalist terrorist enterprise of succeeding years, including the spectacular rebellion of February 26, 1936.

The army also reacted sensitively to the conclusion of the London Naval Treaty. The War Minister, General Jiro Minami, openly encouraged army officers to take part in political activity when he said, in the course of an address before divisional commanders of the army, in August 1931:

“Some people hastily advocate limitation of armaments, and engage in propaganda unfavorable to the nation and the army, while others take advantage of the present psychology of the people with a view to reducing the army for domestic reasons. I hope you will cooperate with the War Ministry authorities in correcting such mistakes.”

If one looks back to the files of the Japanese press on the eve of the Mukden affair, he finds no lack of indication that the army was anticipating some striking developments in Manchuria. So Assai, a leading Tokyo newspaper, on September 9, 1 931, quoted Colonel (later General) Ken Ji Doihara, a very active officer in the Japanese forces stationed in Manchuria, as stating that “there was no telling what might happen in Manchuria.” The Tokyo press of September 15 reported an important conference in which War Minister Minami and several other high military officials participated. According to the press it was decided to seek satisfaction by force for the murder of Captain Nakamura, a Japanese officer who had been killed while on a trip in the interior of China, if diplomacy failed to obtain the same result by peaceful means.

It would be oversimplification to suggest that the army “staged” the seizure of Manchuria simply as a means of restoring its shaken prestige at home and driving liberalism and pacifism into the background. Other considerations were involved: the many unsettled economic disputes with the Chinese authorities; the disposition of Chang Hsuehliang, ruler of Manchuria, to establish closer relations with the nationalist regime in China; the desire to push back the reviving Russian influence in the Far East. But that the army took full advantage of the strengthened position which it acquired as a result of the outbreak of hostilities in Manchuria is unmistakable. As a Japanese scholar writes:

The actual authority for directing the nation’s foreign policy was gradually shifting from Kasumigaseki (the Ministry of Foreign Affairs) to Miyakezaka (the Ministry of War) by the middle of August, 1931, and this tendency toward dual diplomacy became more pronounced during the first phase of the League procedure in September. Towards the beginning of October, however, even this last vestige of dual diplomacy appeared to be waning, with the Miyakezaka in firm control of the government, directing the nation’s policy toward the League as well as the Manchurian developments.

The requirement that the posts of War and Navy Minister may be held only by a general and an admiral in active service makes it possible for either the army or the navy to frustrate the formation of any cabinet of which they disapprove. So strong is the corporate spirit in the higher ranks of the army and navy that no officer would accept an appointment in a cabinet against the advice of his colleagues.

Japan’s sweep toward empire cannot be explained merely in terms of population pressure, desire for economic selfsufficiency, and the strong predominance of military and naval leaders in the councils of the empire. There are psychological elements in the Japanese character, in the Japanese cast of thought that fit in readily with a programme of aggrandizement and expansion. Intense patriotism, red-hot nationalism, is deeply implanted in the Japanese masses. The divine origin that is attributed to the Emperor imparts an element of religious sanction to the most exalted conceptions of Japan’s destiny. Take, for example, the grandiose conception of Japan’s national mission (nothing less than world pacification), as set forth in Professor Chikao Fujisawa’s book, Japanese and Oriental Political Philosophy:

The [Japanese] Emperor as the Sage-King would think it his sacred duty to love and protect not only the people of this land, but also those alien peoples who are suffering from misgovernment and privations. It must be recalled that the Sage-King is answerable in person for the pacification of the entire Under-Heaven, which is the ancient name for the whole world: consequently his moral and political influence ought to make itself strongly felt through the length and breadth of the earth. Should any unlawful elements dare to obstruct in one way or another the noble activities of the Sage-King, he would be permitted to appeal to force; but this may be justified only when he acts strictly on behalf of Heaven… This firm belief in our holy state mission moved Japan to assist Mr. Henry Pu Yi to found the new state of Manchoukuo, which will faithfully follow the way of the SageKing… Nippon’s national flag is an ensign of “red heart,” or fiery sincerity. It alludes to the heavenly mission of Japan to tranquillize the whole world.

The ease with which “the will of heaven” may be invoked to justify Japan’s military and naval aspirations is reflected in the following excerpt from a pamphlet which was issued in the summer of 1935 by the Japanese Navy Ministry:

In view of Japan’s geographical position the powers should leave the maintenance of peace in the Orient in the hands of Japan, which is now powerful enough to perform this duty. If the other powers fail to recognize the mission of Japan they may well be said to disobey the will of Heaven.