by Donald Keene
Ships of the “allies”33 had by this time assembled off Taku, the port of Tientsin. On June 17 the allied fleet opened fire on the Chinese batteries. The ostensible purpose of this (and subsequent military actions) was to save the lives of nationals trapped in Peking, but the Chinese were infuriated, and the government decided to use the Boxers to drive out the foreigners and Chinese Christians.
On June 19 Japanese ships under the command of Vice Admiral Tōgō Heihachirō, in cooperation with the other allies, occupied the batteries at Taku. The Chinese Foreign Ministry at once sent messages to the ministers of all countries represented in Peking, ordering them to leave the city in twenty-four hours; they would be escorted to Tientsin by Chinese troops. On the following day the German minister was assaulted and killed by Chinese soldiers while on his way to the Foreign Ministry. This made the foreigners (who had earlier agreed to leave for Tientsin) doubt the protection promised by the Chinese government. They decided to withdraw to their legations and defend themselves until reinforcements arrived.34
On June 21 the emperor of China issued a rescript opening hostilities with the allies. The emperor declared that although China had always treated the foreigners well, the foreigners had responded by occupying Chinese territory and menacing and robbing Chinese citizens. Their wanton actions had caused patriots to burn churches and kill Christians. The government had done its utmost to protect the foreigners despite their outrageous behavior, but not showing the slightest gratitude, they had used force to compel the Chinese to abandon the forts at Taku. The emperor declared he had vowed, swallowing his tears, that rather than live and endure such humiliation, he would use all the strength available to him in fighting a war with the foreigners. He hoped that patriots would join in the war or at least provide the expenses.35
On June 29 the emperor issued a completely contradictory rescript calling for suppression of the rebels and the resumption of friendly relations with foreign countries. It was said that the earlier rescript had been dictated by Prince Tuan and that the emperor’s real sentiments were in the later rescript.36 But the second rescript seems to have been ignored: the fighting continued, and the siege of the legations lasted for about two months until Peking was relieved by the allies.37
In the meantime, Boxer forces, admitted to Peking by command of the empress dowager, went on a rampage, burning churches and foreigners’ houses and searching for Christian converts and others who had associated with foreigners, slaughtering all they found. The legations were under constant attack, and some of the buildings were burned, but the foreigners did not capitulate.
On July 3 the emperor of China sent a telegram to Emperor Meiji asking him to intercede in order to restore order. The opening salutation revealed that he appealed to Meiji as his equal, and he cited the mutual dependence “as close as lips and teeth” that joined China and Japan. He expressed profound grief that a member of the Japanese legation had been killed, but he added that even while the Chinese authorities were in the process of apprehending and punishing the guilty persons, the foreign powers had attacked and seized the Taku forts. He warned of a confrontation between East and West and asked if the emperor thought that the covetous, “tiger-like” glares of the Western countries were directed only at China. If by some chance China proved unable to withstand the foreigners’ aggression, it would be difficult for Japan to stand alone. He urged that Japan and China halt the fighting and, putting aside their petty differences, join in maintaining stability. He assured the Japanese emperor that Chinese troops would be unremitting in disposing of the bandits.38
Meiji did not respond to the Chinese emperor’s proposal. Instead, he declared that if the Chinese government succeeded in suppressing the revolt—in this way making it clear that it did not desire war with foreign countries—Japan would be glad to resume its traditional friendship. He insisted that the Chinese government lift the siege of Peking and that if it failed to do so, Japan would have no choice but to send troops to pacify the rebels and rescue its citizens.39
Just at this time the chief chamberlain, Tokudaiji Sanetsune, submitted a request to the emperor that he be permitted to resign his post. The emperor, enraged, replied, “Any member of the nobility who serves at the court must be resolved to perform his duties faithfully, regardless of the sacrifices this may involve. Anyone who seeks to resign his office without good reason, merely in order to enjoy a life of ease, is truly hateful. No matter how many times you may try to resign your post, I will unconditionally refuse. Most present-day officials who come from the samurai class are self-indulgent and undisciplined. They tend to use resignation as a means of evading some temporary crisis and ensuring their personal safety. I always find this reprehensible. But for someone from the nobility to imitate them and cause me distress—that is the worst possible example of disloyalty.”40
Meiji himself, earlier in his reign, had been rebuked by Itō Hirobumi and others for neglecting his work, but now he seems to have been entirely absorbed in state business. He had come to think of being the emperor as a responsibility and not a privilege, and it was also incumbent on a noble like Tokudaiji to show a greater sense of responsibility than a member of the samurai class. The concept of duty had come to dominate his thought, and he regarded each instance of resignation “for reasons of health” as a betrayal.
A major battle was fought on July 9 in the vicinity of the Tientsin racetrack between the allied army and the Chinese. Japanese troops, which formed the vanguard, did most of the fighting that day, dislodging the Chinese defenders, who consisted of 2,000 elite troops and some 500 Boxers. The Chinese general was killed, and after suffering heavy losses, his troops were put to flight. Allied casualties consisted of thirty or so Japanese and eight British soldiers. The bravery and skill displayed by the Japanese infantry earned the admiration and praise of the other countries.
The allied attack on Tientsin itself began on July 13. Japanese, British, American, and French troops attacked from the south; Russian and German troops, from the northeast. The Chinese forces consisted of about 14,000 regulars and about 10,000 Boxers; the allies, about 8,000 men. The city was surrounded by steep walls about twenty-six feet high. The fighting on the thirteenth was inconclusive, but at three in the morning of July 14, Engineer Lieutenant Inoue Kenkichi, who had been ordered to blow up the southern gate of the walls, crept up with six men. They laid explosives by the gate, but the electrically operated fuse was cut by enemy gunfire. Inoue and his men, compelled to ignite the explosives manually, were very nearly killed, but the gate was pulverized. The allied forces, led by Japanese troops shouting war cries, rushed through, only to be confronted by an inner wall with enemy soldiers on top. Not fazed by this difficult situation, First Class Private Masuda Sentarō climbed over the wall and opened the gate from the inside. Japanese troops poured into the city, followed by French, British, and American soldiers. The Chinese left 400 dead. More than 860 allied troops were killed or wounded, 400 of them Japanese.41
On August 8 Kaiser Wilhelm II sent a cable to Emperor Meiji requesting that General Alfred Waldersee be appointed as commander of the allied forces. Although Germans constituted a much smaller part of the allied forces than the Japanese, the emperor immediately consented, perhaps because of the murder of the German minister. The emperor was probably not aware that late in July, when the German Expeditionary Force was about to set sail for China, the kaiser had delivered an address to the officers and men commanding them to show no mercy and take no prisoners, in this way ensuring that the Chinese would never again dare to look down on Germans.42
The kaiser’s address was much criticized by the allies when it became known abroad. Hearing that a German had been appointed to head the allied force, Makino Nobuaki, the minister to Austria, objected on the grounds that the kaiser’s speech had aroused strong opposition.43 But Meiji had already sent a telegram agreeing to the kaiser’s request. Without realizing it, the emperor was cooperating with a monarch obsessed with a hatred of the “Yello
w Peril.”
As it happened, however, the allied advance on Peking was so rapid that the German general did not have time to assume the post of commanding officer. Instead, in keeping with a Japanese proposal supported by other allies, a Russian general was chosen as the commander. On August 14 Peking fell to the allies; the siege of Peking was lifted; and the foreign nationals were rescued. The Chinese emperor and empress dowager fled to the northwest. Japanese and American troops secured the imperial palace, but elsewhere in the city, the allies engaged in unbridled looting.44
The China crisis was at an end.
Chapter 51
Once the Boxer Rebellion had been suppressed, Yamagata Aritomo again asked the emperor’s permission to resign the post of prime minister.1 Meiji, no longer able to insist that Yamagata was urgently needed to deal with an emergency, resigned himself to losing Yamagata’s services. The obvious successor was Itō Hirobumi, but he had earlier refused, and he was also occupied with the formation of a new political party. Itō believed that political parties were necessary to a constitutional monarchy and that a cabinet lacking a party base was likely to have its legislation blocked by factions in the Diet. There were in fact several established parties, but they were moribund and incapable of exercising leadership. Itō believed that an entirely new party, to be headed by himself, was needed to correct long-standing abuses in the government. He informed Yamagata of his intention and asked the imperial household minister to report it to the emperor.
The emperor not only granted Itō permission to form a new party but on September 14 sent Iwakura Tomosada to Itō’s residence with a gift of 10,000 yen and a roll each of red and white silk crepe. He also sent a message conveying his trust in Itō’s devotion and his abiding eagerness to benefit by Itō’s frank advice.2
On September 15, 1900, the formation of a new party was announced. It was called the Rikken seiyūkai,3 and Itō was its president. At this point the members of the Kensei-tō declared their party’s dissolution and their intention of joining the new party and forming its nucleus. Some cynics remarked that in view of Itō’s having obtained palace authorization before organizing the Seiyūkai, he really should have called it the Imperially Sanctioned Party.4
On September 24 the emperor sent for Matsukata Masayoshi and Inoue Kaoru and asked them to persuade Itō to succeed Yamagata. The two men visited Itō separately, but both received a firm refusal. Yamagata somehow learned that Inoue had gone to see Itō, which may have precipitated his submission on September 26 of a memorial to the emperor, asking to resign. He alleged that his health made it impossible for him to continue performing the exhausting duties of his office. The decision of the Kensei-tō, no longer willing to cooperate with Yamagata, to join forces with Itō’s party may also have spurred Yamagata’s decision, for his cabinet was now completely lacking in party support.
Matsukata also attempted to persuade Itō to become prime minister, only for Itō to urge Matsukata to take the post himself. Finally, the emperor, realizing that intermediaries would not succeed, summoned Itō to court and commanded him to accept the post. Itō still would not yield. He had his hands full organizing the Seiyūkai, and he was suffering from a debilitating cold. The imperial command could not have come at a worse moment. Matsukata made one last attempt on October 6. This time Itō agreed, having by then reached the conclusion that neither the domestic nor the foreign situation permitted further delay. On the following day in the presence of the emperor, Itō formally accepted the command to form a cabinet.
Itō was invested as prime minister in a ceremony at the palace on October 19. From the outset, there were clashes among the members of the new cabinet. On October 20 Army Minister Katsura Tarō (a holdover from the previous cabinet) asked to resign for reasons of health. The emperor refused, saying that at a time of great tension, the office of army minister must not be vacant for even a single day.5
On November 15 the emperor, resuming his practice of earlier days, traveled to Ibaraki Prefecture to observe maneuvers, spending the night in an elementary school. The weather the next day was terrible—unremitting rain and wind with occasional snow flurries—and it was bitingly cold. The roads over which the emperor’s carriage passed were supposed to have been repaired, but days of rain and the heavy traffic of soldiers and horses had turned them into deep mud. At a place called Nagakata the emperor left his carriage and walked to a height from which he could observe the mock battle between the two armies. He remained there for more than an hour, buffeted by rain and wind that grew steadily more intense, until the maneuvers had ended. He probably considered that as emperor, he was obliged to set an example of fortitude for the troops.
The emperor did not suffer ill effects from his prolonged exposure to the elements, but toward the end of the year he contracted an illness that confined him to his bed until January 13, 1901. As a result, he did not participate in any of the traditional observances at New Year. The emperor was now fifty years old by Japanese count.
On January 23 Japan received word of Queen Victoria’s death. England, at the zenith of its power, had long been the greatest obstacle to recognition of Japan as an equal to the major powers of Europe, but the Japanese court, showing not the slightest sign of resentment, went into three weeks of mourning. Hayashi Tadasu, the minister to Great Britain, was designated as special ambassador to the funeral. He would figure prominently in the negotiations later in this year for an alliance between Japan and England, the extraordinary resolution of the often tense relationship between the two countries.
Having formed a political party, as he had long hoped, Itō organized a cabinet that consisted entirely of Seiyūkai members. The House of Peers was vociferous in its denunciation of party government, but Itō ignored the complaints, exacerbating the mutual feelings of hostility. The problems facing Itō were manifold. The government was faced with the urgent need to pay the expenses incurred in quelling the Boxer Rebellion. The House of Representatives attempted to raise funds by imposing taxes on saké and sugar and increasing customs duties. Greater revenues were also expected from the tobacco monopoly. However, the House of Peers opposed any raise in taxes and seemed certain to vote against the bill. On February 27 the emperor (at Itō’s request) suspended the Diet for ten days.
Itō hoped that during these ten days he would be able to induce the House of Peers to compromise, but it remained adamant in its demand for full debate over the revenue bill. Itō expected Yamagata, who had influence in the House of Peers, to mediate, but he was in Kyōto, and when he and Matsukata met, they decided against mediation. Itō, in exasperation, asked the emperor to summon the two men back to Tōkyō. A chamberlain sent telegrams to Yamagata and Matsukata, who left for Tōkyō the following day.
At an audience on March 5 Itō explained to the emperor the gravity of the situation caused by the refusal of the House of Peers to cooperate in raising money needed to pay national debts. He feared severe repercussions in the world of finance and suggested that the emperor ask advice from four genrō—Yamagata Aritomo, Saigō Tsugumichi, Matsukata Masayoshi, and Inoue Kaoru. The emperor received Yamagata and Matsukata shortly afterward, and messages were sent to Saigō and Inoue asking them to join in finding a solution to the crisis.6
Yamagata and Matsukata reported the failure of their efforts to mediate. The suspension of the Diet would soon end, and Itō could not restrain his impatience. He drew up a plan that he passed on to the imperial household minister, requesting that the emperor issue a rescript to the House of Peers reproving its obstruction. The emperor, complying with this request, on March 12 summoned Konoe Atsumaro, the president of the House of Peers, and told him, “I was recently informed that the House of Peers has expressed unwillingness to pass the tax increase and has clashed with the government on the matter. I find this most deplorable. I ordered Yamagata and others to mediate, but their efforts were unfortunately not successful. The government has further informed me that it cannot accede to the proposals of the House of Peers.
I am deeply disturbed, as you will see from the enclosed note. I ask you to show it to all members of the House, and to discuss ways of restoring harmony as soon as possible.”
The emperor’s note left no doubt as to his position:
“I am deeply distressed by the difficult situation both at home and abroad. It is essential at this time for the nation to pay the necessary war expenses and to establish plans for putting its finances on a sound basis.
“As I indicated when not long ago I opened the Diet, these are my wishes. Moreover, the various measures to increase taxes, which I commanded the government to submit, have already been passed by the House of Representatives.
“I believe that the members of the House of Peers, being loyal to the throne, surely must share my unremitting concern. I hope that they will speedily approve these plans made by the court and not give the nation cause for regret in the future.”7
Konoe had foreseen the possibility that matters might develop in this way, but he was greatly upset by the emperor’s reprimand. He called on Iwakura Tomosada, supposing that Iwakura, who deplored Itō’s habit of asking the emperor to issue a rescript whenever he was in a tight situation, would know what had occasioned this one. Iwakura, however, had heard nothing. When Konoe showed him the rescript, Iwakura was astonished to see that it neither had the emperor’s signature or seal nor had been countersigned by a minister. This was highly irregular. That night, Iwakura sent a copy of the rescript to Itō and asked if members of the cabinet were already familiar with its contents.
The following day, Itō called on Konoe at the House of Peers and related in detail his own efforts ever since the suspension of the Diet to open negotiations with the House of Peers and how the emperor had commanded Yamagata to mediate. It seemed as if the emperor, disappointed at the failure of mediation efforts and extremely worried about the situation, had taken things into his own hands. Itō added that no one in the cabinet had known in advance of the rescript, but regardless of whether anyone knew, as the head of the cabinet he bore the heavy duty of advising the emperor, and it was natural that this responsibility should extend to advising the emperor with respect to politics.8
