At Shanghai, both during and after the fighting, Japanese officers and enlisted men alike exemplified the pathological effects of the post–1905 battlefield doctrine of never surrendering. Captured by the Chinese in February 1932, Capt. Kuga Noboru was returned to Japan in a prisoner exchange; he committed suicide to atone for his capture.46 Praised for his martial spirit by Army Minister Araki, Kuga was later enshrined at Yasukuni. From this time on, officers who survived capture were often openly pressured to commit suicide. A plethora of books, movies, and stage dramas glorified the “human bombs” and “human bullets” who gave their lives on the Shanghai front. These tales heightened the popularity of the army at home, while also reinforcing its mystique abroad.47
Disagreements within the Inukai cabinet worsened after the first engagement at Shanghai. In trying to limit troop deployments and operations at Shanghai, Inukai could rely on backing only from the emperor—who was unwilling to discipline his uniformed officers despite the disruption of normal political life they were causing. While fighting raged at Shanghai, war fever in Japan deepened; public criticism of Seiykai cabinet policies mounted. Not surprisingly “direct action” suddenly went too far—and became terrorism. Two prominent business leaders—Inoue Junnosuke, former finance minister in the Wakatsuki cabinet, and Baron Dan Takuma, director of the Mitsui zaibatsu—were assassinated on February 9 and March 5, respectively. Their killers were civilian members of a secret band the press labeled the “Blood Pledge Corps.” While these murders were under investigation, Inukai pressed the army and navy not to expand operations in the Shanghai area. He also sought Prince Kan’in’s support for dismissing about thirty officers to restore discipline. Such was the situation when another clap of terrorist thunder ended Inukai’s own life and precipitated the start of a fundamental transformation in Japanese politics.
On May 15, 1932, young naval officers murdered Inukai in his office, and two other groups of would-be (army, navy, and civilian) assassins threw bombs at the headquarters of the Seiykai Party, the Bank of Japan, the Metropolitan Police Office, and, most significantly, the official residence of Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal Makino. Demanding abrogation of the London Naval Treaty, they “distributed leaflets calling for the purification of the court entourage.”48
In the ensuing political confusion, the emperor and his advisers decided to abandon the experiment in party cabinets that had begun in the Taish era. Guided by Kido and Makino, Hirohito placed his support behind a fully bureaucratic system of policy making, and cabinet politics that no longer depended on the two main conservative parties in the Diet. Diet party activities continued, but the court group’s fling with constitutional government by means of party cabinets working in tandem with elected representatives was abandoned. Moreover, navy and army leaders now abjured coups to seize political power, turning their attention to restoring discipline in their respective services. Precisely this interruption in the high command’s effort to extend its political power gave the court group a chance to rally and settle on a leader of a countercoup cabinet.49
The day after Inukai was assassinated, the rump Inukai cabinet resigned, and the court group began deliberations to choose the next prime minister. As before, they called Saionji in from the periphery of events so that he could be seen as the emperor’s proxy in presenting the imperial decision. Formerly the decision itself would have been made by the genr, but no longer. On May 19 Grand Chamberlain Suzuki gave Saionji a paper (drawn up by the emperor, Makino, and Kido) containing Hirohito’s “wishes” regarding choice of the next prime minister.50
Hirohito’s first “wish,” that the “prime minister should be a man of strong personality and character,” reflected the thought of Makino and his intellectual adviser, Confucian scholar Yasuoka Masahiro [Masaatsu]. Yasuoka had recently formed the State Restoration Society (Kokuikai) to develop an ideological rationalization for moving “new bureaucrats” to positions of political power.51 Loyal officials who believed in emperor ideology were, in his view, more important than institutions in carrying out the interests of the Imperial House. Only loyalists could prevent the kokutai from being overturned by internal movements and factions. The way to protect the throne was to nurture powerful personalities who were totally dedicated to the emperor. On this score Hirohito was at one with the “new bureaucrats” of the 1930s.
Hirohito’s second point—that “Reform of the evils of present-day politics and the restoration of military discipline depend mainly on the prime minister’s character”—expressed his concern that public responsibility for this most important task rest on the chosen prime minister. His other wishes reflected his displeasure with the revolving-door between the two main conservative parties in power, and the policy changes that invariably resulted. Hirohito blamed party-based cabinets rather than insubordinate officers for the erosion of his own authority as commander in chief. More distrustful of representative parties than of military insurgents, he would strengthen the power of the throne by weakening the power—indeed the very principle—of party government.
Presumably the aged Admiral Sait at the head of a cabinet of “national unity,” rather than Seiykai president Suzuki Kisabur, would bring in trustworthy officials of stern character. These would be the “new bureaucrats” who, freed from loyalties to partisan political groups, and sharing the emperor’s values and goals, would serve the nation by serving Hirohito. So emperor and bureaucracy had meshed in the time of Meiji. That cooperation must now be returned, and new autocratic officials appointed to join Hirohito in containing the forces agitating for radical reform.52
Naturally enough, therefore, Hirohito ruled out the choice of “any person holding fascistic ideas,” a prohibition directed implicitly (as Masuda Tomoko has suggested) at the newly appointed vice president of the privy council, Hiranuma. Head of the Kokuhonsha, an antidemocratic, right-wing pressure group that nevertheless was within the political mainstream, Hiranuma advocated that the constitution be changed. He wanted to form his own cabinet, and was backed in this by Mori.53 Civilian right-wingers had earlier campaigned for Hiranuma to be taken into the court bureaucracy, and he had many supporters in the privy council, the military, and civilian right-wing organizations. Hirohito and his entourage, not to mention old genr Saionji, had ample reason to oppose Hiranuma.54
Yet to most Japanese in 1932 the term “fascism” was vague and mysterious, and referred mainly to Italy. Hirohito’s disavowal of “fascism,” therefore, may have sprung (as Masuda also conjectured) from his belief that anyone who criticized his entourage and wanted to change the Meiji constitution was politically unfit.55 Hirohito needed to feel at ease with his prime minister. If that person was absolutely loyal and obedient, it did not matter if he held fascist ideas, for so long as an exponent of fascism opposed change by coup d’état, the emperor could regard him complacently. Two years later, for example, Hirohito registered no objection to the army’s key concept of a “national defense state,” even though the term was of Nazi German provenance and implied a state organized along lines entirely different from that of Meiji.56
“Protecting the Meiji constitution,” another imperial wish, probably implied that Hirohito understood the extraordinary usefulness of the 1889 constitution—a document that neither guided the exercise of power nor protected the limited freedoms and rights of Japanese subjects. Why should he allow the constitution to be changed? It already could legally produce, “constitutionally,” virtually any type of political rule that he and the power elites desired.57
Hirohito’s final desire, to have diplomacy based “on international peace,” was not an affirmation of the Washington treaty system, but referred to the new, post-Manchukuo status quo that had arisen from aggression. Although the “empire” had just gobbled up new territory, Japan remained economically dependent on its main critics and rivals, the Anglo-American powers. In this circumstance Hirohito naturally wanted to avoid new frictions with Britain and the United States. Therefore the consolidation of Man
chukuo should be energetically “peaceful.”
Ten days following Inukai’s assassination, Hirohito bestowed the premiership on elderly Admiral Sait. The cabinet of “national unity” that Sait now formed included Uchida as foreign minister; Takahashi as finance minister; the leader of the new reform bureaucrats, Got Fumio, as minister of agriculture; General Araki as army minister, and Admiral Okada Keisuke as navy minister. This cabinet would weather four Diet sessions and numerous changes in cabinet posts over a period of more than two years, before finally falling in July 1934 in a corruption scandal involving the Teijin Rayon Company. During that time Sait would preside over the construction of Manchukuo, Japan’s withdrawal from the League of Nations, and a partial reorganization of the machinery of government.
Sait at once began preparations to recognize Manchukuo. Violation of treaties would be required, and established relations with the United States would have to be risked. The League, international law, and the West now came under intensified attack by Japanese politicians, journalists, military officers, and intellectuals. The League’s resolutions on the Sino-Japanese dispute were likened to the Tripartite Intervention of 1895, which had forced the Meiji government to give up the Liaotung Peninsula.58 Army Minister Araki denounced the League for endorsing Stimson’s nonrecognition doctrine and for judging Japan’s actions to be contrary to the Kellogg-Briand Pact and the League Covenant. General Araki also elaborated on the theme of Asia oppressed by the white West.
Outwardly Japan would proclaim the existence of an independent state; in practice it would exercise suzerainty over a colony.59 On August 25 Foreign Minister Uchida informed the Sixty-third Imperial Diet that:
[t]he measures we have adopted toward China, especially since the start of the incident of [last] September 18, have been most just and appropriate. I view the formation of Manchukuo as the autonomous will of the people who live there—yet also as a result of the separatist movement in China. Recognition of the new state in no way conflicts with the Nine-Power Treaty.60
And in respect to Manchukuo: “this government has unanimously resolved not to compromise one step, even if the country is turned into a scorched earth.”61
Reinforcing Uchida, Mori opined that “the new Manchukuo is a declaration to the world that our diplomacy has become autonomous and independent…. This action is akin to a declaration of diplomatic war.”62 Such ideological bombast and bravado clearly proclaimed the extraordinary notion that Japanese policy was unconcerned, in the short run at least, with national security and economic well-being.63
On September 15, 1932, the Sait cabinet formally recognized Manchukuo and signed the Japan-Manchukuo Protocol agreement. Japan assumed responsibility for Manchukuo’s defense and was granted, in a secret annex, permission to do there what it wanted.64
The League of Nations Lytton Commission, established to investigate the conflict, submitted its report on the Manchurian Incident to the assembly on October 2, but the latter delayed considering it in order to give the Japanese government still more time to get its house in order.
III
No issue caused Hirohito more anxiety than the prospect of the Kwantung Army opening military operations in the Peking-Tientsin area as a result of its offensive in Jehol Province. Prior to the offensive the army high command in Tokyo had tried to regain control by replacing many Kwantung Army senior officers and unifying the bureaucratic agencies in Manchuria. Senior Gen. Mut Nobuyoshi was given triple appointment as commander of the Kwantung Army, chief plenipotentiary of Manchukuo, and governor of Kwantung—positions that had formerly been divided among three ministries.65 At the same time the size of the Kwantung Army was increased.
In November 1932 Hirohito learned that the Kwantung Army considered Jehol Province (an important source of revenue from opium) to be part of Manchukuo, and planned to invade the province in the spring.66 By December 23, however, advanced units of the Kwantung Army had already reached Shanhaikuan, the eastern terminus of the Great Wall and the entrance to Jehol Province. There they clashed briefly with the forces of Chiang Hsueh-liang. A more serious clash occurred a week later, on January 1, 1933, and the Japanese occupied the entire town. Hirohito, aware that this latest army advance could complicate relations with the League, tried to warn the army (through Nara) not to allow the incident to expand; two days later he suggested to Makino that the problem be addressed by convening an imperial conference.67 But the entourage was divided; no imperial conference was called.
On January 14, 1933, when Chief of the General Staff Prince Kan’in asked the emperor to sanction more troops in Manchuria, Hirohito warned him about Jehol Province.68 According to Makino (verified by Kido), Hirohito told Kan’in, “We have been very lucky so far in Manchuria. It would be regrettable if we should make a mistake now. So go carefully in Jehol.”69 In other words the emperor instructed Kan’in not to let the operation overreach. What worried him was not territorial expansion per se, but failure, and fear of where accountability for failure might ultimately come to rest.
A few weeks later Hirohito went out of his way to honor Lt. Gen. Tamon Jir and Gen. Yoda Shiro, former commanders of, respectively, the Second Division and the Thirty-eighth Mixed Brigade of the Korean Army, which had taken part at the beginning of the incident. The generals had just landed at Ushina port in Hiroshima prefecture. Hirohito sent an attaché to deliver a personal message to them. Later he invited Tamon and Yoda to a palace banquet, where they and other ranking officers received gifts bearing the imperial crest.70 Such gifts were, of course, standard palace procedure at imperial fetes, but in this instance indicated that the commander in chief approved and was proud of what his senior officers had accomplished. With lightning speed and very few Japanese casualties, they had expanded the Meiji colonial inheritance for which he was responsible.
On the other hand, grateful though he was, Hirohito still had reason for concern. Military expansion beyond China’s Three Eastern Provinces carried dual risks, major war with China and opposition from the Great Powers, particularly the Soviet Union. Already Moscow was rapidly building up its Far Eastern Army, flying in air units from European Russia, and beginning to form a Pacific Fleet.71 When the time for Hirohito to sanction the Jehol campaign arrived on February 4, 1933, Prince Kan’in asked permission to redeploy Kwantung Army units into Jehol. Not bothering to check with the Sait cabinet on the invasion, Hirohito gave his conditional consent. Expansion to consolidate Japan’s acquisition of Manchukuo was acceptable—but not an attack on North China proper. So he would approve the Kwantung Army’s Jehol operation, he told Kan’in, “provided that ‘they not advance beyond the Great Wall of China.’”
Four days later, on the eighth, Prime Minister Sait informed the emperor that his cabinet opposed “the invasion of Jehol because of our relationship with the League of Nations.” Realizing, but not openly admitting, that he had acted too hastily, Hirohito tried to stop the invasion. Nara should tell Prince Kan’in that he (the emperor) had decided to withdraw his previous approval; Nara demurred, pointing out that the chief of the Army General Staff was scheduled for an audience in two days, and it would be better for His Majesty to tell him directly at that time. Hirohito agreed. On February 10, Prince Kan’in came to court, and Hirohito conveyed the Sait cabinet’s disapproval and asked that the Jehol operation be cancelled.72
Contemporary accounts indicate that Hirohito was in quite a bad mood the following day, February 11. Joseph C. Grew, the newly appointed American ambassador, saw him at a court luncheon that day and noted: “The Emperor seemed very nervous and twitched more than usual.”73 In the afternoon Sait went to Hirohito saying that Japan might be expelled from the League if it carried out the invasion of Jehol. He (Sait) had tried to stop it “but the military strongly insisted that they have already received the imperial sanction.”74 Sait departed; Hirohito summoned Nara and said, “somewhat excitedly,” that he intended to stop the operation by using a supreme commander’s direct order. Nara tells us in his unpubl
ished memoirs that he recommended further reflection: “If Jehol was dangerous for national policy, there was no reason the cabinet could not stop it…. Cancellation should be ordered only by the cabinet. Any attempt to use a direct imperial command was apt to precipitate a major disturbance and cause a great political upheaval.”75
Later that night Hirohito sent a chamberlain to seek out Nara’s views again. Nara knew perfectly well that the cabinet could control the military only by going through the emperor. Nevertheless he replied in writing that “[i]t is improper for anyone other than the cabinet to stop the operation.”76 Hirohito acquiesced. The Sait cabinet subsequently approved the Jehol operation; on February 12, Hirohito sanctioned Jehol for a second time on the condition that they “never cross the Great Wall during the course of the invasion, and if they do not listen to this, I shall order a cancellation.”77 These were the words of a highly frustrated commander in chief, not one who acquiesced unconditionally in the conduct of his high command.
Hirohito and the Making of Modern Japan Page 27
