Author: 泰山

Japanese Philosophy and Empire: The Dangers of Taking Tanabe Hajime out of Context

Tanabe Hajime (1885-1962) was a member of the Kyoto School, an intellectual network of Japanese philosophers in the early 20th century who sought to piece together the best parts of Western thought (particularly Kant and Hegel) with Japanese intellectual tradition.1 His earlier works are characterised by strong imperialist and nationalist rhetoric, some of which he revised and renounced in his later work with the ‘Philosophy as Metanoetics’ in 1945 when he turned to studying religious philosophy in a public cry of repentance.2

American philosopher James Heisig claims that Tanabe’s philosophy should be regarded as a ‘world-class philosophy’.3 He argues that Tanabe’s framework can and should be applied outside of the historical context in which it was created.4 While this may be valuable from a philosopher’s perspective, from a historical standpoint, grounding Tanabe’s work in the hyper-nationalist and cosmopolitan context he was writing in is vital because it demonstrates how outside sociopolitical factors and aspects of Western and Japanese intellectual tradition shaped his worldview (which was then used to justify nationalist expansion). Removing Tanabe’s philosophy from its historical context diminishes its lasting impact on Japan’s imperial legacy and precludes the opportunity for important discussions around colonialism.

Tanabe used principles in ‘Logic of the Specific’, ‘The Logic of National Existence’, and ‘Death and Life’ to rationalise nationalism and the supreme importance of the state, relying on the unchallenged assumption that the nation is the fundamental unit by which society should be organised. ‘In ‘Logic of the Specific’, Tanabe adopts Linnean taxonomy terminology to classify individuals’ social belonging: the species (shu) represents each nationality, and the genus (rui) represents the totality of the international world.5 He also proposes the idea of Japan as a ‘supreme archetype’, a blueprint which should be emulated by other nation-states to become ‘enlightened’.6 This emphasis on the moral, cultural, and intellectual superiority of Japan follows the trend among nationalist Japanese intellectuals to justify colonialism.7 Additionally, in ‘The Logic of National Existence’, Tanabe positions the concept of the nation-state as the ‘prototype of existence’, which further legitimizes the authority and prominence of the Japanese empire.8 In his 1943 lecture ‘Death and Life’, Tanabe encourages his audience to sacrifice their lives for the state and concludes that ‘self-sacrifice for the state’ is essentially a return to individual freedom in ‘The Logic of National Existence’.9 Tanabe’s fixation with nationhood is understandable when considering that for him, the lives and deaths of Japanese people depended on the survival or demise of the nation.10 Far from remaining in the abstract realm, Kim argues that Kyoto philosophers were utilised by the imperial regime to exert force over colonial subjects in the way citizens were subject to military conscription.11
However, Tanabe’s interpretation of his own philosophical framework is inconsistent at times, seemingly swayed by changes in public sentiment and contemporary politics. In ‘A Clarification of the Logic of the Specific’ (1935), he defends against accusations that the ‘logic of the specific’ promotes ‘extreme’ and ‘totalitarian’ nationalism.12 However, as aforementioned, later in 1943 he rationalises individual sacrifice (to the point of death) for the state, so his original work cannot be seen as apolitical. Later in 1945, Tanabe publicly apologises for being complicit in imperial expansion in ‘Philosophy as Metanoetics’, moving away from nationalist rhetoric. He explains his failure to speak out against expansionist policies as partly due to the possibility of creating conflict and division among the Japanese people.13 When considering his back-and-forth views, it is questionable as to whether or not Tanabe’s repentance in ‘Ethics of Metanoia’ is sincere or motivated by self-preservation after his original views became unpopular.

It is difficult to separate Tanabe’s philosophical framework from external factors and from Tanabe as a complex individual. However, it is important to recognise that while Tanabe’s writings partly developed as a way for him to process and react to the traumatic and uncertainty of wartime Japan and may be valuable as a world philosophy, they were also used by the nation to justify colonial violence.

  1. Robert Edgar Carter, “The Kyoto School: An Introduction,” in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, in Bret W. Davis (ed.), unpaginated, (2019 [↩]
  2. James W. Heisig, Thomas P. Kasulis, and John C. Maraldo, Japanese Philosophy: A Sourcebook, (University of Hawaii Press, 2011), 688. [↩]
  3. James W. Heisig, “Tanabe’s Logic of the Specific and the Critique of the Global Village,” in The Eastern Buddhist 28, no. 2 (1995), 198, http://www.jstor.org/stable/44362096. [↩]
  4. Ibid., 202. [↩]
  5. Heisig, Japanese Philosophy: A Sourcebook, 670. [↩]
  6. Ibid. [↩]
  7. Vladimir Tikhonov, Social Darwinism and nationalism in Korea: the beginnings (1880s-1910s): “survival” as an ideology of Korean modernity, (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 10. [↩]
  8. Heisig, Japanese Philosophy: A Sourcebook, 683 [↩]
  9. John Namjun Kim, ‘The Temporality of Empire: The Imperial Cosmopolitanism of Miki Kiyoshi and Tanabe Hajime’, in Pan-Asianism in modern Japanese history: colonialism, regionalism and borders, in Sven Saaler et al., (London: Routledge, 2007), 210; Naoki Sakai, “Ethnicity and Species: On the Philosophy of the Multiethnic State and Japanese Imperialism,” in Confronting Capital and Empire: Rethinking Kyoto School Philosophy, in Viren Murthy et al. (eds.), (Leiden: Brill, 2017), 153. [↩]
  10. Heisig, Japanese Philosophy: A Sourcebook, 683. [↩]
  11. Kim, “The Temporality of Empire,” 195. [↩]
  12. Heisig, Japanese Philosophy: A Sourcebook, 679. [↩]
  13. Ibid., 689. [↩]

Vasiliy Eroshenko: Esperanto as a Tool for Thriving with a Disability

Born in what is now Ukraine in 1890, Vasiliy Eroshenko was an important figure in the history of blind activism in Japan. His story is one that has close ties with the Japanese Esperanto movement. After a bout of measles left him blind at a young age, Eroshenko learned about how people of other countries lived by listening to his sighted friends read him books about foreign nations.1 He was advised to learn Esperanto and study music in England but shortly after decided to move to Japan at age twenty-four to train as a masseuse (a common viable career option for the blind).2 The Tokyo Eroshenko lived and studied in (between 1914 and 1921) was a hub of transnational activity, a vibrant mixture of foreign and Japanese students, creatives, missionaries, and activists.3 Although not all individuals in Eroshenko’s circle were Esperantists and he was a part of a variety of groups; Esperanto provided the means by which Eroshenko, a blind, disabled man, was able to form a strong support network, make meaningful connections, find fulfilment through activism, pursue his interests, and support himself.

First, Eroshenko’s knowledge of Esperanto allowed him to communicate and find community, which is vital when navigating a new space. Tanabe Kunio (a fellow Esperantist and graduate of the Tokyo School for the Blind) recalls that Eroshenko ‘received every possible assistance from Japanese Esperanto scholars’, who guided him through the streets and helped him find an apartment.4 Eroshenko also made use of this support network when traveling to Siam, Burma, and India after the breakout of the Russian Revolution made his position as a foreigner in Asia uncertain.5 Because of Esperanto’s association with leftist radical politics, Eroshenko was arrested and deported out of Japan. Although they were unsuccessful, his friends did appeal and campaign for his release.6

Besides the practical benefits of having a support network, Eroshenko’s involvement in Esperanto also allowed him to form meaningful connections, befriending individuals who had similar values and lived experiences. For example, one of his good friends, the playwright Akita Ujaku, helped him with his writing and introduced him to a network of other creatives and members of the intelligentsia.7;8 In a Soviet radio broadcast about Esperanto, Akita shares a story that mirrors Eroshenko’s, saying that once he [Akita] made Esperanto friends and teachers in Moscow, he ‘“was able to use their linguistic aid to enter the real life of Moscow…I was able to make contact with workers’ daily lives, home, factory, and club lives”’.9 Eroshenko too benefited from this linguistic aid.

Additionally, Eroshenko’s connections and Esperanto skillset allowed him to pursue his intellectual interests and find fulfilment through activism. His connection with Esperanto and subsequent friendship with Akita led him to develop his talent for writing.8 Akita translated Eroshenko’s Esperanto writings into Japanese and provided him with cultural information when the two saw plays together. As for his activism, Eroshenko was part of the Japanese Congress for the Blind (an advocacy group), taught music and Esperanto courses to blind students, and later helped teach and organise schools for the blind among other activities.10 It can be reasonably said that without knowing Esperanto upon his arrival to Japan, he would have had much more difficulty gaining a footing and thus contributing to the blind activist cause there.

Eroshenko was also able to make a living teaching Esperanto. For instance, he taught at the Tokyo Public School for the Blind and was invited by an Esperantist to take up a position lecturing at Waseda University.11 After his deportation, he was able to make ends meet teaching Esperanto in China.5 Also, Akita helped edit and popularise Eroshenko’s fairy tales to improve his financial situation.12

The popularity and use of Esperanto as a lingua franca amongst intelligentsia and radical groups in Japan is a common thread throughout Eroshenko’s interactions in Japan. Eroshenko faced multiple layers of social oppression as a blind man, living through persecution, multiple arrests, deportation, and living in a foreign land. However, he was able to utilise existing Esperanto networks in East Asia to support himself financially, physically, and emotionally. Language in the early twentieth century was an integral feature of both transnational activity and of Eroshenko’s individual life.

  1. Julia V. Patlan, “On Tanabe Kunio’s Article ‘Familiarizing with the Achievements, Learning from Our Pioneers. Vasiliy Yeroshenko: Staying in Japan and His Friends,’” in Вісник Університету Ім. А. Нобеля. Серія Філологічні Науки 1, no. 17 (Alfred Nobel University: Dnipro, 2019), 107, https://doi.org/10.32342/2523-4463-2019-0-16-10. [↩]
  2. Patlan, “On Tanabe Kunio’s Article,” 107-108. [↩]
  3. Ian Rapley, “A Language for Asia? Transnational Encounters in the Japanese Esperanto Movement, 1906–28,” in Transnational Japan As History, Pedro Iacobelli, Danton Leary, and Shinnosuke Takahashi (ed.), (United States: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015), 173, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-137-56879-3_8. [↩]
  4. Patlan, “On Tanabe Kunio’s Article,” 108. [↩]
  5. Rapley, “A Language for Asia?” 175. [↩] [↩]
  6. Ibid. [↩]
  7. Ibid, 173. [↩]
  8. Patlan, “On Tanabe Kunio’s Article,” 111. [↩] [↩]
  9. Rapley, “A Language for Asia?” 181. [↩]
  10. Ibid, 112. [↩]
  11. Ibid, 114. [↩]
  12. Patlan, “On Tanabe Kunio’s Article,” 115. [↩]

Shifu: Can We Consider the Views of China’s Famous Anarchist ‘True’ Anarchy?

Born to an upper-class family as Liu Shaobin, Shifu (1884-1915) lived through the collapse of the Qing dynasty and converted to anarchism while studying in Japan.1 Known for his commitment to living anarchist principles, Shifu’s purist example and devotion to promoting the common good through his educational reforms influenced subsequent generations of Chinese anarchists, attracting others to the anarchist movement which reached its peak in the early 1920s.2 While Shifu’s early career mirrors other anarchists of the time in his support of assassination and revolution-driven violence, some argue that, because his later efforts depart somewhat and are marked by a renunciation of violence, he fell away from anarchy. Furthermore, in his book, Shifu, Soul of Chinese Anarchism, Krebs argues that Shifu’s later career has a conservative moral quality, because it is inspired by traditional Chinese literature, despite the radical reforms he espoused. So, can Shifu be considered an anarchist given his departure from a violent past and tendency toward cultural conservatism? And does it matter?

The current, popular view of anarchy often mistakenly reduces anarchism to terrorism and violence. According to political theorist John P. Clark, there are many ways to define anarchy and reaching a consensus on a singular definition is difficult. He argues that we should consider classical anarchist theory, history of anarchy movements, and the scholarly debate around anarchy when attempting to define ‘anarchism’.3

Greek for ‘without rule’, in theory, anarchy could apply to anyone who advocates for the necessary abolishment of government.4 For example, Shifu was familiar with Kropotkin and Bakunin’s ideas of anarchy, which Kropotkin defines as ‘a principle or theory of life and conduct in which society is conceived without government’ and Bakunin as the aim of abolishing the state.5 Other scholars define anarchism as the opposition of authority, or even society, itself—which Shifu also advocated for.6 Clark argues that to be a ‘true anarchist’ one must meet four criteria: ‘(1) a view of an ideal, noncoercive, nonauthoritarian society; (2) a criticism of existing society and its institutions, based on this antiauthoritarian ideal; (3) a view of human nature that justifies the hope for significant progress toward the ideal; and (4) a strategy for change, involving immediate institution of noncoercive, nonauthoritarian, and decentralist alternatives’.7 This definition allows for some flexibility in classifying anarchists (i.e. people that meet some but not all four of the criteria can be considered ‘weak’ anarchists).7

According to Clark, Shifu can be considered a true anarchist because he meets all four criteria, although his later views on anarchism just before his death might be better described as anarcho-communism due to their anti-capitalist rhetoric and communal nature.8 First, Shifu advocated for a classless society in which resources were held in common without government involvement.9 Second, Shifu criticised state socialism and Confucianism for encouraging idealogues to preach an empty ‘fake morality’ while advancing their own self-interest.10 Third, he believed in the capacity for human beings to change, which he argued could only be achieved through educating the masses. Lastly, Shifu developed a comprehensive, twelve-point plan for moral reform across China at a societal level. ((Ibid, 6.)) His solution for the eventual abolition of government (partly inspired by Tolstoy and Kropotkin’s philosophies) included the abstention of the following: partaking of meat, liquor, smoke, marriage, using family names, using servants, riding in rickshaws, serving in the government or military, joining political parties, and religion.11 Another way he hoped to implement his ideal society was through communal living and Esperanto projects.

Although Shifu failed to bring about his ideal society, his critiques of existing social institutions and politics were influential in shaping China’s transition into a modern republic, and he inspired hope in following generations of intellectuals for a brighter future.

  1. Edward S. Krebs, Shifu, Soul of Chinese Anarchism, (Rowman & Littlefield, 1998), 1-2, https://www.vlebooks.com/Product/Index/336439?page=0&startBookmarkId=-1. [↩]
  2. Krebs, Shifu, 13. [↩]
  3. John P. Clark, “What is Anarchism?” in Nomos, vol. 19, (1978), 3, http://www.jstor.org/stable/24219036. [↩]
  4. Clark, “What is Anarchism?” 4. [↩]
  5. Ibid, 4. [↩]
  6. Ibid, 5. [↩]
  7. Ibid, 13. [↩] [↩]
  8. Krebs, Shifu, 83. [↩]
  9. Ibid. [↩]
  10. Ibid, 102. [↩]
  11. Ibid, 8, 103. [↩]

Emerging scholarship on chongbu highlights the nuanced relationship between women and Neo-Confucianism in Choson Korea

In the past, both Western and Eastern scholarship have been guilty of oversimplifying the history of Confucian women. Some put forth a narrative of women as simply victims of Confucian society, conflating Confucianism with patriarchy and arguing that it suppressed their rights and offered little opportunity to recognise their achievements.1 However, recent scholarship is challenging these kinds of stereotypes about the complex relationship between East Asian women and Confucianism, specifically the relationship between Choson women and Neo-Confucianism. Recent revisionist histories focus on how women expressed themselves through art and literature, and how they used their agency within their social, ideological, and political confines. In addition, scholars are beginning to study marginalized women, including widows and nonelite women, by looking at census records and legal texts.2
In Women and Confucianism in Choson Korea: New Perspectives, Youngmin Kim and Michael J. Pettid advocate for the replacement of the Confucian oppression narrative and other generalisations by more nuanced portrayals of Choson history that consider how different women’s experiences varied from one another based on personality, class, and situation.3 Women of Korea’s Choson dynasty (1392-1910) used various strategies to work within and around the confines of their Confucian society and were sometimes protected by the state.
One example of this is the tradition of chongbu rights in mid-Choson. In China and Choson, the chongbu was the eldest daughter-in-law of a family, meaning the wife of the eldest son of a family lineage. She was treated with deference by other daughters-in-law and given special privileges. According to the Lizhi (the Book of Rites, one of the core texts of Confucianism), the chongbu’s role was to serve during ancestor rites (jesa) and treat honoured guests.4 Traditionally, if her husband died and she had no child, the chongbu’s role in jesa passed down to the second son of the family. Over time, the role and rights of the chongbu in Choson expanded. By adopting a son to act as an heir (iphu) (traditionally one of her nephews, but tended to be a distant blood relative), the chongbu could bolster her position in the family and maintain her status. This was essential for the chongbu, who faced the disastrous possibility of being expelled from her home if or when the ancestral rites duties were given to the second son of the family.5 The adopting of heirs by women to maintain their chongbu status not only shows how these women were able to protect their position and power within a Confucian context but also demonstrates how women helped shape the dynamics of families and practice of ancestral rites throughout Choson.6
Contrary to popular narratives that Confucianism generally oppressed women, women received support from the state on several occasions. In Lee SoonGu’s ‘The Rights of the Eldest Daughter-in-Law and the Strengthening of Adoption of Lineage Heirs in the Mid-Choson Period,’ they note that in 1547, the Office of the Censor-General defended the rights of chongbu to adopt a son and continue jesa duties, a decision also supported by the king.7 Another example of the state protecting Choson women was the fact that women were state sanctioned to petition the king by striking a gong and kneeling despite the doctrine of separate spheres, a pillar of Confucian gender ethics that dictates that women are to be relegated to the domestic realm.8 When considering these examples, it is apparent that the way Choson women experienced Confucianism varied greatly and is not as simple as it appears at first glance.

  1. Youngmin Kim and Michael J. Pettid, Women and Confucianism in Chosǒn Korea: New Perspectives, (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2011), 11, Accessed September 24, 2025, ProQuest Ebook Central [↩]
  2. Jisoo M. Kim, “Neo-Confucianism, Women, and the Law in Chosŏn Korea,” in Dao Companion to Korean Confucian Philosophy. Dao Companions to Chinese Philosophy, vol 11, ed. Yong Huang (Dordrecht, 2019), unpaginated, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-90-481-2933-1_17. [↩]
  3. Kim, Women and Confucianism, 4 [↩]
  4. Lee SoonGu, “The Rights of the Eldest Daugher-in-Law and the Strengthening of Adoption of Lineage Heirs in the Mid-Choson Period” in Women and Confucianism in Chosǒn Korea New Perspectives, eds. Youngmin Kim and Michael J. Pettid (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2011), Accessed September 24, 2025, 91, ProQuest Ebook Central. [↩]
  5. Ibid, 98 [↩]
  6. Ibid, 102 [↩]
  7. Ibid, 99 [↩]
  8. Kim, “Neo-Confucianism, Women, and the Law,” unpaginated [↩]