Emperor of Japan: Meiji and His World, 1852’1912 (32 page)

When Parkes and Mitford were ushered into the Presence Chamber, they saw Emperor Meiji, probably the first foreigners ever to glimpse a Japanese emperor:

In the centre was a canopy supported by four slender pillars of black lacquer draped with white silk, into which was woven a pattern in red and black…. Under the canopy was the young Mikado, seated in, or rather, leaning against, a high chair. Behind him knelt two Princes of the blood, ready to prompt him….

As we entered the room the Son of Heaven rose and acknowledged our bows. He was at that time a tall youth with a bright eye and clear complexion; his demeanour was very dignified, well becoming the heir of a dynasty many centuries older than any other sovereignty on the face of the globe. He was dressed in a white coat with long padded trousers of crimson silk trailing like a lady’s court-train. His head-dress was the same as that of his courtiers, though as a rule it was surmounted by a long, stiff, flat plume of black gauze. I call it a plume for want of a better word, but there was nothing feathery about it. His eyebrows were shaved off and painted in high up on the forehead; his cheeks were rouged and his lips painted with red and gold. His teeth were blackened. It was no small feat to look dignified under such a travesty of nature; but the
sangre Azul
³⁰
would not be denied. It was not long, I may add, before the young sovereign cast adrift all these worn-out fashions and trammels of past ages, together with much else that was out of date.
³¹

The emperor’s greeting to the English was more or less the same as that to the French and Dutch ministers, but he added his regret that an “unfortunate affair” had occurred while they were on their way to the palace three days earlier. Parkes gallantly replied that the emperor’s gracious words had caused him to forget the unfortunate incident completely.
³²
Mitford later wrote that the emperor, “because of his extreme youth and the novelty of the situation to one who had only recently left the women’s apartments,” showed symptoms of shyness. “He hardly spoke above a whisper, so the words were repeated aloud by the Prince of the Blood on his right side and translated by It
ō
Shunsuke.”
³³

Three days after Parkes and Mitford were presented to the emperor, the first clash occurred between the imperial forces advancing on Edo and the Shinsengumi, a band of some 200 men under the command of Kond
ō
Isami (1834–1868). The imperial forces under Itagaki Taisuke were victorious.
³⁴
Perhaps the most memorable thing about the march of the imperial troops to Edo was the song they sang, “Tokoton’yare,” composed by Shinagawa Yajir
ō
(1843–1900) during the battles at Toba and Fushimi.
³⁵
This song spread not only throughout Japan but also to England, where the music and part of the Japanese words were incorporated into the operetta
The Mikado
, composed in 1885:
Miyasama, miyasama, ouma no mae no, pira pira suru no wa nan jai na, tokoton’yare ton’yarena. Arya ch
ō
teki seibatsu seyo to no nishiki no mihata ja shiranka, tokoton’yare ton’yare na
.
³⁶

Chapter 16

The young emperor’s first act of major historical significance was undoubtedly the promulgation of the Charter Oath in Five Articles on April 7, 1868. The swearing of this oath before the gods of heaven and earth, in the presence of “the hundred officials” including nobles and daimyos, was preceded a day earlier by an edict that announced the renewal of various ceremonies of Shint
ō
worship after the extremely long hiatus imposed by the military regime. The stated purpose of the edict was to revive the union of rites and rule that had existed in ancient times.
¹

A central element in the plan of restoration was the reestablishment of the Jingikan, the Ministry of Shint
ō
. It had originally been established at the beginning of the eighth century, but for centuries had possessed little more than vestigial significance. Now, however, Shint
ō
priests and the performance of Shint
ō
ceremonies at the court and at shrines were to be placed under its supervision, and the priests were to resume functions that had long been left to surrogates. The renewed importance of the Shint
ō
priesthood and the insistence on separating Shint
ō
from Buddhism were made more explicit four days later when Shint
ō
priests who served concomitantly as Buddhist priests were ordered to yield their Buddhist ranks and positions, give up their Buddhist robes, and let their hair grow out.
²

For more than a thousand years, most Japanese had believed simultaneously in both Shint
ō
and Buddhism despite the inherent contradictions between the two religions. For example, according to Shint
ō
belief, the present world is lovely and a source of joy, but
yomi
, the world after death, is a place of foulness and corruption. According to Buddhist texts, on the contrary, this world (
shaba
) is a place of trial and suffering, but one’s actions in this life can enable one to enjoy after death the joys of paradise. These and other fundamental differences were generally minimized by those who discussed religious matters. Instead, the doctrine of
honji suijaku
, which explained the Shint
ō
divinities as avatars in Japan of the eternal Buddhist divinities, was widely accepted.
³
In keeping with the projected return to the system of religion and government that had prevailed in the time of Jimmu, the first emperor, Buddhism, a foreign religion, was now rejected and even persecuted.
⁴

Even during the long period when Buddhism played a far more prominent role in the state and emperors regularly entered Buddhist orders and were known posthumously by their “temple names” (
in
), Shint
ō
was never neglected by the imperial family. The most important rites performed by the emperor were those of Shint
ō
, beginning each year with
shih
ō
hai
, the ceremony of worship of the four directions, carried out at four o’clock on the morning of New Year’s Day. The emperor prayed to the star under which he was born, to the gods of heaven and earth of the four directions, and to the tombs of his father and mother for abundant crops, a long reign, and peace in the realm—all benefits in this world, in keeping with Shint
ō
’s this-worldly outlook. Mention of the star under which the emperor was born was an indication that the Shint
ō
rituals had been greatly influenced by Taoism. The court was dependent on
on’y
ō
ji
, priests of yin and yang, for predictions by divination of good or bad fortune. No action of consequence was undertaken in the palace without consulting an
on’y
ō
ji
.

Japanese religious life at the commencement of the Meiji era included elements of Shint
ō
, Buddhist, Taoist, and other beliefs as well as what might be called superstitions. The decision to accord special importance to Shint
ō
, and especially to the Jingikan, was, of course, closely connected with the enhanced importance of the emperor, who, according to Shint
ō
belief, stood at the apex of the world.

The ritual accompanying the emperor’s pronouncement of the Charter Oath was entirely Shint
ō
. The ceremonies began that day in the Hall of State Ceremonies with the gathering of nobles, daimyos, and lesser officials, all dressed in court robes, making a dazzling sight in their different colors. The ceremonies proper opened with the sprinkling of salt water and scattering of rice, by way of purification. Next the head of the Office of Shint
ō
Worship, Shirakawa Sukenori, sang
kamiuta
(god-songs) for the descending god. After the offering to the gods had been made, the emperor, attired in informal robes and accompanied by the two assistant presidents (Sanj
ō
Sanetomi and Iwakura Tomomi), the two ministers of state (Nakayama Tadayasu and
Ō
gimachisanj
ō
Sanenaru), and various other dignitaries, entered and took his place on the throne. It faced south,
⁵
with the
shinza
(seat of the gods) diagonally to the right. Screens depicting the four seasons were placed around the throne.

Sanj
ō
read aloud a Shint
ō
prayer, beginning with an invocation to the gods of heaven and earth.
⁶
After Sanj
ō
had finished, the emperor advanced to the anise bush before the altar, bowed in prayer, and made an offering of white and red cloth on sprigs of sacred wood. Sanj
ō
then read aloud the emperor’s Oath in Five Articles:

Deliberate assemblies shall be widely established and all matters decided by public discussion.

All classes, high and low, shall unite in vigorously carrying out the administration of affairs of state.

The common people, no less than the civil and military officials, shall each be allowed to pursue his own calling so that there may be no discontent.

Evil customs of the past shall be broken off and everything based on the just laws of nature.

Knowledge shall be sought throughout the world so as to strengthen the foundations of imperial rule.

It is well known that the text of this oath was not composed by Meiji himself, but by two samurai-scholars, Yuri Kimimasa (1829–1909) and Fukuoka Takachika (1835–1919), and then revised by Kido Takayoshi.
⁷
Its significance has been discounted by some scholars who contend that the seemingly liberal ideals expressed in the articles masked the real intent of the oath, which was to win the country’s support before the attack on Edo Castle, scheduled for the following day.
⁸

It would be a mistake to suppose that the five articles of the oath signified an intention by the leaders of the government to create a parliamentary democracy in the near future. But whether or not the oath was genuinely progressive, the language was unprecedented in Japan or, indeed, any other country in the orbit of Chinese civilization. Deciding “all matters by public discussion” was definitely not traditional, nor had the administration of affairs of state been considered to be a privilege shared by the lower classes—regardless of how one defines “lower classes.” The fourth article—“Evil customs of the past shall be broken off and everything based on the just laws of nature”—is admittedly vague and subject to conflicting interpretation; but the customs of the past were normally praised and contrasted with the degenerate ways of the present, not characterized as “evil.” The last article, stating that knowledge should be sought throughout the world, seemed even to contradict the basic concept of “restoration,” which looked back to Japan’s own past, rather than to the rest of the world, for guidance. In later times the principles enunciated in the five articles were qualified, watered down, and sometimes ignored, but they were never repudiated, and they survived as ideals for those who hoped to make Japan into an enlightened modern state.
⁹

After the reading of the oath, the nobles, daimyos, and others present all signed their names to a document expressing profound admiration for the provisions of the Charter Oath. They swore to obey the emperor’s wishes even at the cost of their lives and begged the emperor to take comfort from their determination to do their utmost to implement the oath. Nobles and daimyos who were unable to be present on this occasion visited the court afterward to sign their names, a total of 767 persons.
¹⁰

What impression did this ceremony have on the emperor himself? If he expressed his opinions to those around him, they have been lost. It is likely that owing to his youth, he was not consulted in the preparation of the text. Conceivably, he first learned the contents of the five articles when he heard them read aloud by Sanj
ō
Sanetomi; but it is hard to imagine that the ceremony—the most impressive of his reign up to this point—and the reading of the Charter Oath failed to move him. The idealism embodied in the articles may well have affected him precisely because he was young and inexperienced. Certainly during the early part of his reign, he showed himself to be sympathetic to the tenor of the oath he had sworn to observe.