January 23, 2022
The following is from The Spring of Knowledge by the late Shōichi Watanabe, one of the leading intellectuals of the postwar era.
It was published in June 2017.
It must be read not only by the Japanese people but also by people throughout the world.
Prime Minister Kishida, Foreign Minister Hayashi, Secretary-General Motegi, and others belonging to the same faction as Kiichi Miyazawa should take this book especially to heart.
The emphasis within the text, apart from the headings, is mine.
Yoritomo and Taking Buddhist Orders
I would like to consider the case of Minamoto no Yoritomo as an example of how something that seems insignificant at the time can later acquire great importance.
After the Heiji Rebellion, Yoritomo was taken prisoner by the Heike clan.
He was only 14, but under the circumstances of the time, it was inevitable that he would be beheaded.
Although Yoritomo had older brothers who were excellent warriors, he was especially loved by his father, Yoshitomo.
He had been given a suit of armor called “Genta’s First Clothes” and a sword called Higekirimaru, treasures of the Genji clan that should ordinarily have gone to the eldest son.
The armor had the following history.
When Hachimantarō Yoshiie was two years old, Emperor Toba asked to see what kind of child he was, so his father, Yoriyoshi, made a splendid suit of armor, seated the two-year-old Hachimantarō on it, and presented him to the emperor.
It is said that when Hachimantarō went to subdue the Emishi in Ōshū and beheaded prisoners, he always cut off their beards.
When Ike no Zenni—the later wife of Taira no Tadamori—asked that the boy’s life be spared, Kiyomori replied:
“I could spare dozens of others, but I must be careful with Yoshitomo’s children.
Yoritomo in particular was regarded by his father as exceptional and cherished even more than his older brothers.
I cannot simply leave such a boy unattended.”
Nevertheless, Ike no Zenni pleaded for his life, and Shigemori also worked to save him.
While he was being held captive, Yoritomo was genuinely obedient.
His earnest grief for his relatives and brothers who had died in battle made a strong impression on those around him.
Yoritomo was then exiled to Izu.
When he went to take leave of Ike no Zenni, who had worked so hard to save his life, the elderly nun told him, “Be modest and live in peace.”
Yoritomo listened to her words with gratitude and wept.
If he took Buddhist orders then and there, Ike no Zenni would be pleased, the Heike would be reassured, and there would be no danger of his being killed.
Some Genji warriors advised Yoritomo, as he prepared to leave for Izu, to take orders, saying, “If you do so now, Ike no Zenni will be pleased, the Heike will be reassured, and there will be no danger of your being killed.”
At that moment, however, Yoshitomo’s retainer Kōketsu Gengo Moriyasu said:
“You must never shave your head and take Buddhist orders.
Your life was spared not by mere good fortune, but through the will of Hachiman Daibosatsu.”
The boy Yoritomo, however, answered neither those who said it would be safer to take orders nor those who said he must not.
In fact, he did not shave his head or become a monk.
Whether or not he had shaved his head even once might seem a small matter.
But when the time later came to raise the banner against the Heike, we cannot know how many members of the Genji clan would have followed Yoritomo had he once taken orders.
However unpopular Kiso Yoshinaka was in Kyoto, he had never shaved his head.
And when Yoshitsune was strongly urged to take orders at Mount Kurama, he refused, saying, “If you try to force me to shave my head any further, I will kill you.”
Whether or not one shaves one’s head for the sake of personal safety may seem a small matter.
Yet the Genji warriors must have felt greater sympathy for Yoshinaka and Yoshitsune, who had not shaved their heads, than they would have for Yoritomo had he done so.
Had Yoshitsune and Yoritomo faced one another under those circumstances, it is highly possible that Japan’s history would have changed.
Yoshiaki, the 15th Ashikaga shogun, was also a man who had once taken Buddhist orders.
Nobunaga used him, but would not have respected him.
The Ashikaga shogunate came to an end there.
I cannot help feeling that there is something in common between this, the end of the Shōwa era through the emperor’s abdication, and the same thing happening after the war.
The Emperors of East and West
Something may appear trivial at first glance, yet an act with symbolic meaning can have surprisingly great consequences.
A familiar example that comes to mind is the visit of Their Majesties the Emperor and Empress to China in October 1992.
I think it appropriate for the emperor to visit foreign countries as an act of goodwill diplomacy.
But the destination must be considered.
There would be no problem at all with a visit to Europe or the United States.
It is a different matter, however, when a country regards a visit by an East Asian head of state as tribute.
Under the dynasties of mainland China, it had long been understood that when surrounding monarchs came to the capital, they were paying tribute and showing respect as vassals.
After the First Sino-Japanese War, the Manchurian Incident, and the Sino-Japanese Incident, it would not be surprising if China’s leaders hated Japan and the Japanese people.
Yet I believe that Chiang Kai-shek, Mao Zedong, Zhou Enlai, and Deng Xiaoping, while hating Japan, also felt fear and respect toward it.
They had been looked down upon by white people since the Opium War.
I think they must have regarded Japan and the Japanese with a certain respect for having defeated white people who were arrogant and powerful—so much so that a sign in a Chinese park was said to have read, “No dogs or Chinese allowed.”
But that changed in October 1992.
In June 1989, during what is known as the Tiananmen incident, the Chinese authorities occupied Tiananmen Square.
They used armored vehicles and tanks to suppress civilians, and the many deaths were reported on television throughout the world.
In response to the killing of civilians, the United States suspended arms exports and military exchanges.
France froze its relations with China, and Britain imposed an arms embargo.
Even Gorbachev of the Soviet Union expressed concern, leaving China diplomatically isolated.
The only countries that supported China were East Germany and the Czech Republic.
In April 1992, Jiang Zemin, general secretary of the Chinese Communist Party, visited Japan, which was seen as the weakest link in the diplomatic circle surrounding China, and asked Prime Minister Miyazawa to arrange an imperial visit to China.
The following day, Jiang Zemin paid a courtesy call on the emperor and met with leaders of the ruling and opposition parties.
In response to this request, the Miyazawa Cabinet arranged for Their Majesties to visit China in October.
From China’s perspective, this was tribute paid by the emperor of Japan.
In Japanese history, negotiations with the Chinese dynasties began with Prince Shōtoku.
And, as is well known, Prince Shōtoku’s letter took the form of a communication from the emperor of the East to the emperor of the West, on an equal footing with the great Sui dynasty.
Since then, no Japanese emperor had ever paid tribute to a dynasty on the Chinese mainland.
But in October 1992, that changed.
Perhaps because of this unprecedented achievement in Chinese history, Jiang Zemin was reelected general secretary of the Chinese Communist Party at the 14th Party Congress in October of that year.
Six years later, in November 1998, Jiang Zemin made a second visit to Japan.
At the official banquet at the Imperial Palace, Jiang Zemin’s appearance and manner were utterly arrogant.
To begin with, judging from his dress, one could hardly have said he was attending an official banquet with another country’s head of state.
Above all, he made a speech criticizing Japan’s past.
The Jiang Zemin who came to Japan six years earlier under the Miyazawa administration seemed an entirely different person from the Jiang Zemin who visited under the Obuchi administration.
His attitude was one of looking down on the emperor.
It angered many Japanese people.
But from Jiang Zemin’s perspective—that is, from China’s perspective—it was natural.
In Jiang Zemin’s eyes, the emperor of Japan was now no more than a “tribute-paying monarch” of an island country in the East.
For Miyazawa, it must have been done to improve Japan-China relations.
But was there no one in the Miyazawa Cabinet, said to have had many talented people, who considered what “tribute” meant?
Of course, tribute is not a subject on the civil service examination.
Yet many things, such as company names, era names, and warriors’ hair, have symbolic significance.
I cannot help thinking that there is something in them that goes beyond reason.