Kotoku Shusui: anti-imperialism in Japan

Perhaps the most enduring legacy of Kotoku Shusui, as Robert Tierney stresses in his work Monster of the Twentieth Century: Kotoku Shusui and Japan’s First Anti-Imperialist Movement, was his prominent leading role in the strife against Japanese imperialism at the start of the twentieth century. Kotoku’s actions sparked widespread interest in his personality as someone who openly resisted the absolutism of the Meiji state. Kotoku represented a radical journalist and socialist whose intellectual and political efforts in the anti-imperialist movement have left him to be widely regarded as a prolific forerunner to the modern pacifist movement in Japan.

Tierney seeks to examine Kotoku’s impact on the movement by dissecting the work which his own piece is named after, Imperialism: Monster of the Twentieth Century (1901). What is most interesting about Kotoku’s work is that it preceded both Hobson’s study on Imperialism and Lenin’s 1916 work, Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism. Tierney wants to emphasise the importance of Kotoku Shusui and his 1901 publication given that these later approaches do not fit well with the case of Japan’s early imperialism (p.57). Such theories of economic causation, from Tierney’s perspective, do not seem as relevant to the Japanese case given that Japan at the time was still borrowing significant funds from England and the United States in order to finance the nation’s own industrialisation. Tierney takes a unique stance in his work, focussing more on the intellectual contribution of Kotoku to the anti-imperialist movement instead of other anarchist efforts.

Tierney dissects the preface of Kotoku’s Imperialism and locates the Japanese journalist’s definitive observation on the state of Japanese imperialism. Tierney extracts the quote, “Ever since the great victory in the Sino-Japanese War, Japanese from all walks of life burn with fever to join the race, like a horse suddenly freed from his yoke” (p.38). Critics of Kotoku’s work have noted his overbearing emphasis on ideals such as patriotism and militarism, forces that may only be described as mere symptoms of imperialism. This idea does come across somewhat when looking at the above quotation. Most Marxist historians have tended to reject Kotoku’s argument based on his explicit omission of the economic causes behind Japanese imperialism. Okochi Kazuo has pointed out on reflection that Kotoku’s failure to identify imperialism as the most recent stage of capitalism reflects merely the “limitations of the time in which he lived” (p.8).

Additionally, Tierney emphasises the role of Kotoku in the anti-imperialist movement by pulling up his work for the Heimin newspaper, and its own significance. Kotoku founded this socialist paper in 1903, and played a key role in pushing it to become one of Tokyo’s leading publications advocating the growth of socialist ideas just a year after it was founded. The Heimin newspaper certainly stood out as a representative banner for the anti-war movement in Japan in Tierney’s eyes. What is also striking about the significance of the newspaper is the ability it granted Kotoku to establish direct links with Chinese and other Asian revolutionaries that were stationed in and around Tokyo; the most notable of these being Sun Yat-Sen. If there was one idea that Heimin newspaper served to reiterate, it was that such a “bulletin board for sharing ideas” offered a clear illustration of how journalism could be utilised as a means of fostering communities of insurrection (p.109).

One of the primary case studies that Tierney uses in order to examine Kotoku’s condemnation of Japanese imperialism is the Boxer Rebellion of 1900. The Boxer Rebellion was arguably the catalyst that explains Kotoku’s adoption of such an anti-imperialist stance, one that differed greatly from his earlier anti-Western nationalist perspective (p.86). This conflict represented a truly imperialist war in from Kotoku’s point of view. Japan’s attack on its semi-colonised neighbour China, a nation that was equated with lawlessness given the uprising, was seen therefore as a means of upholding civilisation through the use of a heavy contingent of troops (pp.86-7). As Tierney evaluates, Kotoku shunned this European style of procedure, one that seemed only to be motivated by military expansion and profit. Japan would go on after the rebellion to enter into an agreement with Great Britain in which both sides recognised mutual interests in China and provide for joint support in the event of Russian aggression. This western style of diplomacy that Japan had entered into only seemed to validate the militarist arguments put forward in Kotoku’s Imperialism.

The key question that Tierney summarises his work with is whether Kotoku’s Imperialism is still relevant, and if so, to what extent? The term relevant may be better replaced with applicable here, as Tierney himself even highlights earlier on in his piece that Kotoku’s own intellectual efforts in the anti-imperialist movement have tended to be replaced in terms of historical memory by later anti-imperial movements (p.12). Hence, in terms of modern applicability, we arrive at numerous instances whereby we can recognise patterns between modern politics and the views of Kotoku Shusui. Tierney’s primary example of this is President Reagan’s use of the term “evil empire” as a means of solely insulting the Soviet Union in  the 1980s (p.211). American politicians and journalists nowadays no longer hesitate in defining the United States as an empire, and indeed one that extols its “benevolent hegemony” (p.212). This summary point relates to a large extent back to the definitions that their East Asian counterparts offered  much in the same way as Kotoku at the start of the twentieth century.

The Legacy of Ch’iu Chin

Ch’iu Chin is widely acknowledged as one of China’s first feminist figures and has been recognised universally for her significant contributions to the reform movement and her heroic inspiration behind the 1911 Revolution.¹ Her character, however, is much more convoluted than would appear at first glance. Ch’iu efforts in the lead up to the revolution granted her great prestige as a heroine of the movement, nevertheless, we need to address how much of an exceptional individual she was, and whether or not her case spoke for the majority of those who sought reform during the early twentieth century in China.

Mary Rankin’s piece on Ch’iu Chin, entitled “The emergence of women at the end of the Ch’ing: The case of Ch’iu Chin”, focuses predominantly on the ways in which Ch’iu set about challenging the traditionally ingrained roles of women in society1. Ch’iu advocated education to other women at the time, imploring them to learn and seek other professions outside the home. This provoked the a growth in mentions of “woman scholars” (nü-shih) across various newspapers at the time (p.45). The association of education with the reform movement was very significant. It was becoming more and more clear that girls’ education was being conceived as a modern education in an environment of expanding opportunities.

Rankin emphasises how the writings of Ch’iu represented an intense rejection of the established imperialist order in China (p.57). Ch’iu’s writings tended to unite the key themes of revolution, nationalism, and feminism in which she offers “passionate harangues on the evils of women’s life” that are set against “alarmed descriptions of foreign encroachment and government corruption” (p.58). Ch’iu grew up with a strong nationalist concern for the future of her nation. This perspective heightened further as she came into contact with other prominent revolutionaries like Sun Yat-Sen. One of the key messages that Rankin seeks to promote in this work is how Ch’iu recognised that social equality was not likely to be achieved without major reform and structural change to the nation. The eventual liberation of women would therefore result from revolution, to which Ch’iu devoted her greatest efforts.

Ch’iu’s personality is one that certainly requires discussion. In her youth she was heavily exposed the a way of life that saw her study, ride horses, and even wield swords which clearly puts her in her own unique category, and not the most stereotypical representative of the reform movement. Furthermore, Ch’iu even came into contact with explosives and weaponry during her time fighting for the revolution. This contributed greatly to her own heroic fighter status and perhaps gave  her recognition in other East Asian nations like Japan who offered her integration into a new society. Nonetheless, the peculiarities surrounding Ch’iu’s character only seem to accentuate the uniqueness of her example. This is not necessarily something that Rankin alludes to either. Ch’iu’s involvement in the reform movement highlights somewhat a trend of greater social inclusion for women in Rankin’s eyes, yet she does not address just how much of an enigma Ch’iu may represent given her wealthy upbringing and repeated exposure in her youth to radical ideas.

Overall, we cannot escape the fact that Ch’iu Jin will be remembered in China for her inspired efforts in the fight for women’s rights in China. As a result of her martyrdom in 1907, she was endowed with such heroic qualities as bravery, uncompromising morality, and devotion to duty (p.62). By the time of the 1911 revolution, many women’s armies sought to romanticise and evoke her spirit in the conflict. Although the aspirations and achievements of Ch’iu were extraordinary, her career tends to illustrate the problems faced by her contemporaries and too the motives that inspired them (p.40). For Ch’iu, her own unique heroic status became a way to justify her own radical actions to herself, for others to follow the example of. This luxury was not something than other members of the reform movement in China had at their disposal

Jen Kucharski, Qiu Jin: An exemplar of Chinese feminism, revolution and nationalism at the end of the Qing dynasty“, p.92

  1. Mary Backus Rankin. “The Emergence of Women at the End of the Ch’ing: The Case of Ch’iu Chin,” in Roxane Witke Women in Chinese Society (1975) []

Conservatism in Republican China

Edmund Fung’s exploration of the politics of conservatism within Republican China certainly raises an interesting set of arguments surrounding the links that existed between nationalism and modernity during the period. In his work, The Intellectual Foundations of Chinese Modernity: Cultural and Political Thought in the Republican Era, Fung makes a clear point of stressing the way in which conservatism itself was committed to the cause of modernity, but also that advocates were wary that a continuity of national spirit ad prestige should be upheld at the same time. The cultural and political nexus in Chinese conservatism in the context of a landscape of modernity is one that Fung himself describes as hard to get to grips with, but appears generally assured of his argument that Chinese conservatives, in their pursuit of modernity and economic reform, were acting explicitly in the interests of the nation, but not necessarily those of the state (p.98).

This distinction between nation and state is one that Fung looks to reinforce through analysis of several non-Marxist historians in order to reinforce his secondary argument that Marxist theology was no where near as ubiquitous as previously envisaged during the period. Fung first consults the works of John Hutchinson in order to help define his potentially confusing term ‘politico-cultural nationalism’ that encompassed Chinese conservative motives during the Nanjing decade. Fung deduces that cultural conservatives during the period sought a “moral regeneration” of the nation itself and looked to make use of heritage to promote social, political and economic reforms (p.102). It must be clarified however that these Chinese conservatives were in favour of the state and the regime.

Cultural identity and heritage is two of the most crucial themes raised within Fung’s work. Fung examines how the Chinese nation needed to steer itself away from the cultural state of decay that it had devolved into. To achieve this, China was forced to save itself by its own efforts and not be so preoccupied with external influences that may save them. On this point, he brings in the ideas of Liang Shuming, notable of course for his explicit change of opinion with regard to the West and how China should no longer be required to emulate European or American democracy (p.107). Liang proposed a program of rural reconstruction for the Chinese nation to continue on its path towards modernity and cultural rejuvenation.1

This would in turn allow democracy to flourish. The main takeaway from Fung’s interpretation of Liang is that he was not entirely anti-Western; he did recognise several promising features of western society such as individual rights and moderate socialism, but ultimately, for China to reestablish itself economically and culturally, the nation should not seek inspiration from abroad.

At the crux of Chinese conservatism during the period were concerns about imperialism, the future of the Chinese nation itself, and the threat of foreign invasion (p.126). A strong consensus for democratic reconstruction existed within the movement in order to stabilise the political realm of the Chinese nation, but also to promote scientific and technological skills in an increasingly modern age. This would help simultaneously to promote a sense of moral self-realisation among the people of their place in the modern world.2

The concept of the nation-state formed a central pillar of modernity within China at the time, and this certainly the basis in Fung’s eyes for mutual interest existing between conservatism and nationalism (p.126). This idea of constructing a nation-state was especially prevalent when connected with the idea of reviving China politically and economically.

Conservatives within Republican China certainly stood in a complex position with regard to the nation-state and the pre-existing regime. In which direction China should proceed given its current ongoing cultural and economic crisis was a hot topic of debate. As discussed, some held reservations about the western liberal style and preferred the idea of a more imposing type of leadership. Reform was indeed in the best interests of conservatives, and as Fung neatly summarises in his work, Conservatism in China “represented a morally innovative path to modernity” (p.127).

  1. Chun-Ying Cheng and Nicholas Bunnin (eds.) Contemporary Chinese Philosophy, (Oxford, 2002), p.160 []
  2. William Theodore de Bary and Richard Lufrano (ed.), Sources of Chinese Tradition: From 1600 to the Twentieth Century, vol. 2, 2nd. edn., (New York, 2000), p.554 []

Ishiwara Kanji and Japan’s Final War with the West

“Though war destroys civilizations it is, at the same time, the mother of new civilizations” [Ishiwara Kanji, Sensoshi taikan, pp.51-2]

By 1933, with Japan in the wake of the Manchuria Crisis, there was no doubt that by this stage the nation was committed to a course of total expansion on the mainland and abroad. In the eyes of Japan’s military and naval commanders, progression in this fashion would see Japan inevitably clash with its surrounding nations, most notably the Soviet Union, as it fought to establish itself. While the Soviet Union seemed to constitute the most immediate barrier to Japan’s aims of territorial expansion in the eyes of the majority of the Japanese General Staff, Ishiwara Kanji begged to differ. Ishiwara believed Japan’s Final War would see the nation lock horns with the united States.

Within Mark Peattie’s Ishiwara Kanji and Japan’s confrontation with the West, Peattie offers a highly detailed biographical insight into the time spent by Ishiwara in the General Staff during the 1930s. With reference to this period, Peattie examines specifically Japan’s plan of implementing a National Defence program that, once implemented, would see Japan emerge as the “leader of East Asia” (p.202). Peattie’s threefold approach to the program is centred around assessing the military influence on the policy, the morality of Japan’s pan-Asian campaigns, and the rationality behind Japan’s foreign and domestic projects.

Ishiwara’s prominence in the Manchuria campaign contributed significantly to the inflation of his prestige in the immediate aftermath. One of the key questions that Peattie therefore looks to offer in his work is whether or not Ishiwara developed such influence in the General Staff due to the power behind his own ideas for the future of Japan, or instead if his success in Manchuria was merely the reason he gained fame? Peattie does consider that by 1933, Ishiwara’s plans for a National Defence State, coupled with the growth of an ideological Russo-phobia and Japanese spiritual faith in its military capabilities, a climate was in place that would form the “basic cleavage in the Imperial Army as to how to prepare the nation for war” (p.188). With regard to this point, Peattie emphasises how the combination of a militant Buddhism with prevailing European, and also Western, fears helped to produce Ishiwara’s concept of an inevitable ‘Final War’.

Most recent historiography from Clinton Godart has sought to refine Japanese motivations for a Final War with the West. Godart’s 2015 article, “Nichirenism, Utopianism, and Modernity: Rethinking Ishiwara Kanji’s East Asia League Movement”, focuses more on the Nichiren Buddhist aspects of Japanese militarisation during the 1930s and how these would ultimately  be put into practice to facilitate the realisation a specific Buddhist utopian vision for the future (pp.237-8). These “fascist Nichirenist” tendencies contrast somewhat with the vision previously put forward by Peattie who instead looks to centralise his focus more on Japan’s preparation for the Final War through pan-Asian ideals, specifically the unification of East Asia under Japanese oversight. Ishiwara’s proposition of an East Asian League would see China and Manchukuo come together with Japan, along with its colonies Korea and Taiwan, to form a self-sufficient bloc capable of confronting the “Soviet Union on the Asian continent and the Anglo-American nations at sea” (p.195).

By the mid-to-late 1930s, Japan and the United States were certainly “racing to complete their respective civilizations”, and as Peattie exemplifies, “their progress along rapidly converging paths would inevitably terminate in violent collision” (p.57). What can be taken from Peattie’s argument is that this future conflict of major proportions between these two powerhouses would result in one final synthesis of human culture and ideals. Victory for Japan would leave the nation free to guide and unify the world for generations to come. However, before Japan could count herself fully prepared for this final showdown with the United States, she would need to establish her goal of formulating the East Asian League, and ensuring this was in place and ready before the Final War came.

Of course, what systematically shuts down Ishiwara’s ambitions of this ever coming into fruition was the outbreak of conflict between Japan and China in 1937. What can clearly be established from Peattie’s work is how Ishiwara’s failure to curb enthusiasm for a short, decisive conflict with China in 1937 essentially caused his plans for an East Asian League to disintegrate. Perhaps one of the key takeaways from Japan’s confrontation with the West is the ambivalent nature of pan-Asian ideals in Japan during the 1930s. Ishiwara’s visions of a unified Asia seemed somewhat contradictory given the narrative that surrounded his involvement in Manchuria. The surfacing of conflict and an anti-Japanese front in the 1937 Sino-Japanese War was arguably the result of decades of foreign interference and humiliation for China.