Rethinking the World in East Asia 1850s-1990s

At the invitation of Sukarno, the charismatic leader of newly independent Indonesia, delegates from twenty-nine Asian and African states converged on the city of Bandung in April of 1955. Its leaders, who included Mao Zedong and Jawaharlal Nehru, hoped to form a new trans-national axis to better serve the needs of developing states (many of whom had only very recently thrown off the shackled of colonialism). The ‘Bandung Spirit’ wasn’t concerned with the communist internationalism of the Soviet Union or the strategic militarism of the United States. Bandung was “the first inter-continental conference of coloured peoples in the history of mankind”, determined to unite against colonialism and shift the international dialogue away from its exclusionary Cold-War construction¹ .

Sunil Amrith’s article in Inter-Asia Cultural Studies (assigned as further reading from week 8) gives an excellent introduction to the ideological forces at play during this symbolic assertion of post-colonial power on the global stage. The principles of the United Nations, so recently enumerated, explicitly delegitimized race as grounds for political discrimination, and forever placed human rights into the international mainstream. Globalism was a powerful force, but it had become “the almost exclusive province of the dominant, mostly Anglophone, elite of development managed, technocrats, strategists and financiers”² . The common people of Asia and Africa had rallied around state-centric nationalism, which had largely delivered them from colonial rule. Interestingly, this relationship had been reversed before the war, when aristocrats clung to national glory and the working class expressed their discontent through anarchist and communist internationalism. Ultimately, the state-centric model of national development would prevail, newly clarified through the experiences of ‘third world’ states.

Kita Ikki was active several decades before the Bandung Conference, but his advocacy of a ‘people’s state’ would nonetheless inform and inspire the ‘Bandung Spirit’ of later years. Much like the fathers of postcolonial Asia, Kita was disappointed with what he saw as a reactionary, undemocratic international order. The West had dominated Asia’s development with its singular pursuit of capital, perpetuating inequality not just between classes, but between nations within the international order. Kita understood that “the question of Japan’s relations with its neighbors was inextricably bound with how to secure its position against the Western powers”, and felt a bulwark of Asian states (united under Japan) was essential for their continued survival³ . The sensation of Asian resurgence would resurface in Bandung, whose community of states represented more than half of the world’s population and all its “spiritual, moral, and political strength”⁴ . In Bandung as in prewar Japan, there was a sense that the West was morally bankrupt, leaving Asia to fill the void with an ambitious new direction for mankind.

For Kita, the salvation of humanity would be achieved through the realization of a people’s state (komin kokka), regulating private wealth while also respecting the democratic principles later enshrined in the United Nations Charter⁵ . Intended as a manual for the the strengthening of Eastern states, Kita’s Reorganization Plan elucidated several elements of Pan-Asianism which would come to force during the Bandung Conference. Most significant, however, was Kita’s awareness of the “crucial task of overturning the authority of the European theories of revolution… (and) advancing a theory founded on indigenous ideas.”⁶ Having realized a reformed ‘Asian’ revolution, Kita hoped Japan could aid the independence of China and India and establish a new world order. Kita’s radical proposals ultimately led to his execution in 1937, but, as Bandung proves, his model of leadership survived long beyond his short life.

Bibliography

Amrith, Sunil S. “Asian Internationalism: Bandung’s Echo in a Colonial Metropolis,” Inter-Asia Cultural Studies 6, no. 4 (December 1, 2005): 557-69.

Tankha, Brij. Kita Ikki and the Making of Modern Japan: A Vision of Empire. Kent: Global Oriental, 2006.

1. Sunil S. Amrith, “Asian Internationalism: Bandung’s Echo in a Colonial Metropolis,” Inter-Asia Cultural Studies 6, no. 4 (December 1, 2005): 557. [↩]
2. Ibid, 567. [↩]
3. Brij Tankha, Kita Ikki and the Making of Modern Japan: A Vision of Empire (Kent: Global Oriental, 2006), 18. [↩]
4. Amrith, “Asian Internationalism,” 557-58. [↩]
5. Tankha, The Making of Modern Japan, 34. [↩]
6. Ibid, 129. [↩]

From reading “Zen at war”  by Brian Daizen Victoria, I was struck by lack of responsibility or accountability of Buddhist involvement in Imperialist Japan’s military campaigns from modern Japanese Buddhist sects. This disconnect from imperialism is highlighted in the abstract with Brian’s tutor, Master Niwa Rempo, outlining “Zen priests do not get involved in politics”[1]. Although in context this is directed as a response to Brian’s activism in the anti-Vietnam war movement in Japan, in a wider context it illustrates the contemporary Buddhist disillusionment of their historical actions.

The most poignant example of this disconnect can be understood from Brian’s assertion that there exist only four proclamations from Japanese Buddhists outlining their responsibility and complicity in the war[2]. One of which was the Nishi Honganji branch (1991), which stated in the fourth paragraph:

“Although there was pressure exerted on us by the military-controlled state, we must be deeply penitent before the Buddhas and patriarchs, for we ended up cooperating with the war and losing sight of the true nature of this sect, this can also be seen in the doctrinal sphere, where the [sect’s] teaching of relative truth and absolute truth was put into cunning use”. [3]

What does this recognition actually infer and perhaps more importantly what does it omit? Firstly, the composition of the apology suggests immediately the lack of any real conviction. This can be evidenced by the Nishi Shin sect commencing the acknowledgement with a deflection  in the likely effort of minimising the justifiable criticism that should be levied against them.

In addition, the apology fails to outline the historiographical relationship with the Imperialist state. This is of fundamental importance, as by not doing so not only does this illustrate a lack of understanding of how deeply Buddhist mechanism were manipulated, as Kawase Takaya highlights, but that these same mechanisms can still be manipulated today[4]. That is to say the issue is not solely with the state, but rather with Buddhism itself. It is therefore the ethics and morality of the Buddhism disposition, and not the nation state it chooses to attach itself to that needs to be assessed.

Brian outlines Ichikawa Hakagen nine-point moral criticism of Buddhism, in which the very roots of Buddhism are scrutinised to illustrate how they can be interpreted as justifications for a militaristic and imperialist society[5]. Some of the most important include:

1) Karma: used as a tool to express the morality of social inequalities. Any attempt to implement social equality was dismissed as “evil equality”.[6] This rejection of socialist thought incites a right-wing agenda that can be manipulated to perpetuate militarism. Additionally, it creates a self-fulfilling prophecy by supporting an imperialist structure, in which the emperor’s grandeur and exploitation is easily justified from his current socio-economic position.

6) On, the concept of gratitude to one’s parents, ruler, wider humanity and existence. Due to the imperialist concept of ancestral veneration, gratitude for one’s parents can be easily manipulated to represent one’s ruler as head of the nation’s family. This shifts the emphasis of ‘on’ towards propagating imperialist social structure and weakens the need to express gratitude for the other proponents. In an extreme case, it is possible to argue that, due to imperialisms traditional placement of the emperor as the figurehead of the nation’s military, there exists an indirect correlation of on supporting militarism.

9) Ancestral veneration: the notion that the nation-state is completely interconnected as a result of previous historical links. Ancestral veneration, to a greater extent, can be closely associated with the familiar themes found within ethnic nationalism. It enforces the sentiment of loyalty between the subjects of the state and the sovereign as the authoritative figure in the family structure. A consequence of this is the removal all conception of independent thought, while introducing a ‘command structures’ within the society. This structure then somewhat endorses militarism as the accountability of military action is no longer considered.

[1] Brian D. Victoria, ‘Zen at War’ , Rowman and Littlefield: 2016, p.XIII
[2] Brian D. Victoria, ‘The Post-war Zen Response to Imperial-way Buddhism, Imperial-state Zen, and Soldier Zen’ in Zen at War, Rowman and Littlefield: 2016, p. 152
[3] Ibid p.153
[4] Kawase Takaya, ‘Anti-war and Peace Movements among Japanese Buddhists after the Second World War’, in (eds.) Vladimir Tikhonov and Torkel Brekke, ‘Buddhism and Violence’, Routledge, 2013, p211
[5] Brian D. Victoria, ‘The Post-war Zen Response to Imperial-way Buddhism, Imperial-state Zen, and Soldier Zen’ in Zen at War, Rowman and Littlefield: 2016, p. 171
[6] Brian D. Victoria, ‘The Post-war Zen Response to Imperial-way Buddhism, Imperial-state Zen, and Soldier Zen’ in Zen at War, Rowman and Littlefield: 2016, p. 172

Ishiwara Kanji’s national defense state was the idea of remodeling the Empire of Japan along a military controlled political order with a planned economy in preparation for an inevitable war with one or all the great powers. I wish to look at how the National Defense State treated the relation between civilian and military government and its contrast to the politics of the late Japanese Empire. Ishiwara had, unlike many other Japanese thinkers, an important position of power in most of major events of Japanese politics in the 1930s and I think it’s interesting to consider to what extent the National Defence State was part of a broader trend in the Japanese army.

Mark R. Peattie argues that the traditional European ideas of fascist or communist is unhelpful to understand Japanese interwar society and Ishiwara Kanji.1 (Peattie, p.254) Peattie’s main points is that Ishiwara’s imagined national defense state unlike a typical fascist state, lacked a military subordinate to a direct central dictator and the glorification of war. I think the National defense states share more similarities than differences to fascist rule Italy and Germany, but that it would be wrong to assume these ideas were imported from Europe. The cause of Japanese militarism was deeply imbedded into the state already by the Meiji constitution and it is important to see Ishiwara as part of a larger movement of statism in the 1930s following thinkers like Kita Ikki and Shumei Okawa.

What makes Ishiwara interesting is his focus on the role of the military. Formally he would place the military and civil administration apart as two distinct entities of the state. Yet in practical terms the military would overrule the civilian government.

Partially it can be explained with the justification of the Meiji emperor’s “Imperial Rescript to soldiers and sailors” the military were considered outside politics and the public opinion only charged with the duty of protecting the state. The rescript, as James L. McClain puts it, said that the soldier’s role was “To be loyal was to stand outside the fray of the political arena”. (McClain, p.202)  Ishiwara, and several other high-ranking army officers, interpreted this as the military had a duty to administer the protection of society without involvement from the civilian or “political” government. In the age of total war the army needed to mobilize civilian industry and resources to such an extent that it would have to be assured of its proper use. When challenged on financial concerns by a civilian official Ishikawa replied, “If the finance minister should declare that the five-year plan could not be completed, then the government should replace him with someone who could complete it.”(Peattie, p. 250) There was no doubt Ishiwara thought the military had the legitimacy to intervene in all affairs of the state because of the threat of war. The army clad in the justification of protecting the empire and serving the emperor would thus work as a ruling body outside of any control or administration. While not being controlled by a single dictator like a fascist state, its power would be held by a small clique of leading officers and channeled through a religious figurehead emperor and a bureaucratic civilian government. The military would not be subject to any obligation other than war.

If this sounds familiar within Japanese history, it’s because it was the political situation within the Japanese government just two years after the outbreak of war in China. One could even argue that military rule had been already assumed in 1932 with the May 15th incident and the death of party governments so that Ishiwara was designing the National Defense State in a political climate of military supremacy. The military with the army and navy ministries could prevent any government to form without their approval, effectively determining all important matters of policy. (McClain, p.424) Under the later cabinet of Konoe Fumimaro from (1940-41) then Hideki Tojo (1941-44) the military ruled without any political opposition. (McClain, p. 456) It would be over disagreement on foreign policy and long-term goals that Ishiwara would a vocal critic of official army policy. The way of ruling the state through the military was based on the same political order he imagined his National Defense State implementing.

It is then interesting to ask if the political design of the National Defense State was made for practical or ideological reasons. I think the urgent matter of preparation to secure a National Defence state in East Asia was the only goal and exploiting an already established system was certainly the path of least resistance. Ishiwara was an opportunist throughout his career. E.g. the planning of the Manchuria incident and his attempt at the exploitation of martial law during the 26th February crisis. But this is not enough to prove anything beyond speculation.

A state with a military dominated political structure, justification of power because of imminent war and legitimacy through the emperor. While similarities appear, there are a lot of unanswered questions about the National Defense State. What was the role of the Emperor? Who would lead the military? How would it prevent rivalry between the branches of the military? It would require a further in-depth study on Ishiwara to accurately prove his ambitions when it came to Japanese society and the governing of the state. Thus, it is hard without additional perspective to determine the full implication of his ideological connection to the established militarist order when Ishiwara wrote about the National Defense State in 1935.

P.S Japanese historians have in recent years emphasized the positive aspects of Ishiwara, but there is little written on him in English literature outside of Mark R. Peattie, Ishiwara Kanji and Japan’s confrontation with the West.

I avoided the ideas of the East Asian League organization formed in 1939 and just focusing on the ideas of the National Defense State. This is because I think his ideas had changed significantly by the founding of the EAL in 1939. 

Bibliography:

McClain, James L., Japan, A modern history, W.W. Norton, (New York, London, 2001)

Mark R. Peattie, Ishiwara Kanji and Japan’s confrontation with the West, Princeton University Press, (Princeton, N.J., 1975)

“These incongruities bring to the fore the contradictions that a woman had to embody as remnant of the old order and bearer of the new”¹

Within the book ‘Cinderella’s Sisters: A Revisionist History of Footbinding’ I found the Tianzu movement to be a double-edged concept which Dorothy Ko analysed from a controversial perspective. Ko regarded that alongside anti-footbinding movements being chiefly male organised they were also misonganistic in their approaches to foot binding. As they did not take into account the irreversible nature of the process or the pain these woman had experienced, but rather the male “Chinese elite” wanted to distance themselves from the backwards tradition of foot binding.² As they recognised this tradition as halting their advancement in the modern world. The Anti-footbinding movements that gathered urgency during the early Twentieth Century were known as Tianzu, meaning literally “heavenly foot”.³  Through the use of Dorothy Ko’s book we can reflect on the paradoxical issues that accompanied the work of male Chinese abolitionists to reveal the historical implications of Tianzu and the enforcement of unbinding.⁴

“One womans pride and freedom was prediction on another woman’s shame and bondage”⁵

The humiliating view of women who had their feet bound became a hallmark of Chinese modern nationalist discourse. Ko sort to present an alternative to the transitional period that was the end of foot binding, by revealing the true and authentic female voice that demonstrates the complexity of Tianzu.⁶ One of the chief outcomes of this process was the criminalisation of foot binding, and to enforce this social surveillance was used to check that the process was being stamped out.⁷  For example newly installed authorities were able to “scrutinise and look” to gather the number of footboard females in their area.⁷ However, this surveillance was humiliating, and treated women as objects to be gazed at. One of the key factors behind the aura of foot binding had previously been the concealment of the flesh by bindings. However these checks meant that women were forced to show their feet in public, and felt ashamed rather than liberated. Ironically this had a more humiliating effect as it was public, resulting in issues of groping during inspections. Alongside this, the bureaucratisation of feet inspection led to ambiguity between the aims of the movement, as rather than freeing women it led to a misogynistic attitude towards those with bound feet as they were called “parasites and femme fatales harmful to the nation”.⁵

This humiliation, however, did not stem from the abuses and imperfect method of inspections, but rather from a culture of national shame that resulted in an urgency to unbind feet. This reveals that the tactic of these campaigns was paradoxical because the female suffering, that had previously provoked people to challenge traditional thinking, stressed the link of femaleness with victimhood.⁸ And in this way the experiences and pain of these women were adopted by anti-foot binding movements that dictated the response to foot binding, resulting in those who had undergone the irreversible process being branded as symbols of China’s backwardness.

1. Ko, Dorothy, Cinderella’s Sisters: A Revisionist History of Footbinding, (California, 2007), p.14 [↩]
2. Ibid., p.29 [↩]
3. Ibid., p.22 [↩]
4. Ibid., p.18 [↩]
5. Ibid., p.68 [↩] [↩]
6. Ibid., p11 [↩]
7. Ibid., p55 [↩] [↩]
8. Ibid., p.58 [↩]