Constitutional Imperialism in Japan/Chapter 10

It is certainly desirable to ascertain what conclusions and inferences may fairly be drawn from what has been recorded above. In the first place it is quite evident that, when one writes of the Government in Japan, a capital “G” should be employed. There is nothing small or weak about the administration, whether national, provincial, municipal, or what not. It all centers about the national administration in Tokyo; it is a case of centralization; it is a centripetal form of government; it gravitates around and toward the Imperial palace in Tokyo. It was with good reason that Dr. W. E. Griffis called his first great work on Japan The Mikado’s Empire; for the Empire belongs to the Emperor. And it is also with good reason that Dr. Griffis gives the title of The Mikado to his most recent work. A book entitled Japan to America, compiled by Mr. Naoichi Masaoka, and published by Putnams (1914), includes a contribution of a few pages (100–103) by Mr. Iechiro Tokutomi, the able editor of the Kokumin Shimbun, Tokyo, on “Centripetal Mikadoism”. We quote here some of Mr. Tokutomi’s expressions:

And he attributes Japan’s “great socio-economic revolution” to the “automatic process” of that “centripetal Mikadoism”.

Another natural inference from these studies is that custom is more powerful than law. Or, to express the idea in another ​way, it takes a long time for a new law to establish itself against an old custom. The feudal system had been so strongly intrenched in Japan, that, even after it was nominally abolished, it persisted in fact in many survivals which die hard. It is true that there is a strong popular demand for more representative institutions; it is also true that the mass of the people are somewhat contented with the status quo and are rather submissive in spirit. They still endure official surveillance and hold officialdom in awe; they take off their hats when speaking to a policeman. The survival of absolutism may be seen in the tendency to establish Government monopolies and to nationalize industries. The survival of feudalism is evident in the political party system, where clannishness still prevails and loyalty to men is stronger than fidelity to principle.

Another conclusion one may reach is that nominality does not always correspond with reality. The Japanese have a common expression, yumei-mujitsu, which means literally “having name without reality”. A certain thing may be so only in name, not in reality; nominally so, but not really so. This is a criticism which some have brought against Japan’s present political system; that it is only nominally, not really, constitutionalism. This may be true to a certain extent; the same political phrases do not connote exactly the same things in all countries. But there is another phase of this nominality. Theoretically and nominally, the central Government, for instance, has control over each prefectural Government: the Emperor appoints the Governor of each Prefecture; and the Minister of Home Affairs has the authority to dissolve a Prefectural Assembly; but he rarely exercises that authority. Both the Minister and the Governor, though they are centralizing officials, prefer to respect local public opinion in local affairs.

It is not without profit to pay a little attention to the new election law. The process seems somewhat complicated and long-drawn-out, so that it requires several meetings with various officials. First, there is the casting of the ballot under one set of officials; secondly, there is the counting of the ballots under the same or a different set of officials; and, thirdly, ​there is the election meeting, under another set of officials (part of whom, however, may be the same), to decide the result of the election. Possibly this long process may insure a minimum of fraud and interference.

We have already called attention to the radical changes effected by this new law; and concerning its results we quote Uyehara, as follows:

The political campaign of the special election of March 25, 1915, calls for comment in this connection, because it illustrates some points in the evolution of popular institutions in Japan. The conduct of a political campaign had become too formal and had fallen into the hands of professional canvassing agents; so that to some extent the yen had become mightier than the pen. The cost of election had grown to be enormous, except in the very few cases in which a candidate was so fortunate as to meet with little or no opposition. It was, of course, a matter of discussion as to what constituted the legal expenses of a campaign; and it required no little care and ability to steer clear between the Scylla and the Charybdis of parsimony and bribery. It seemed to demand several thousand yen for an “average man” to carry on a campaign in a strictly legal manner. This sum would include such items as printing, postage, advertising, rent of offices, carriage hire, and speech-making expenses.

House-to-house canvassing is one special feature of a campaign and is here dubbed “the submarine attack”. It has been carried on by teachers, family doctors, female hairdressers, et al.; and it has been especially utilized, in a few cases, by female members of the family of the candidate. This feature of women as campaigners has been strongly discussed, pro and con, by the press.

​In the campaign of 1915, speech-making was a more prominent feature than ever. Ozaki, Minister of Justice, and the Premier himself actually “took the stump”. One unique feature of the campaign was the sight of Okuma on a trip westward by rail, making short speeches from the car-window at important stations. Another unique feature was the fact that, at many places where the presence of Ozaki or Okuma was impossible, their “tinned speeches” were heard from the phonograph. And an opposition candidate went one better by letting Ozaki speak through the machine but stopping it every few minutes to answer Ozaki’s points. There certainly never has been such a “popular” campaign.

It may be added that the landslide to Okuma was the popular response to this campaign. It was a personal victory for the “grand old man”, because he was not afraid to appeal to the people. The army increment scheme, which had been the principal issue in bringing about the dissolution, was scarcely mentioned in the campaign. Even the important negotiations with China cut little figure; although they probably had more weight than the two-division increase. The result of the election was not so much pro-Doshikai as anti-Seiyukai. It was not that the electorate loved the Doshikai more but the Seiyukai less. It was a question chiefly of Okuma or Hara (present leader of the Seiyukai). It was because the people trusted Okuma. And when Okuma’s great victory was announced to him, he remarked: “Now we can witness the dawn of real constitutionalism in Japan”.

Dr. Ukita, editor-in-chief of the great monthly magazine, Taiyo (Sun), has discussed, in quite an interesting manner, the change of methods in national elections. According to a summary of his article, he expressed these sentiments:

If we turn to consider the work of the Diet, we find one phase quite in line with what is going on in the national assemblies of other countries. The real business of each House is being done in the committee rooms rather than on the floor of the House. Uyehara remarks on this point: The Government has invented a doctrine called “the principle of fugen-jikko, or practice without discussion”.^[3] But the discussions in each House are not necessarily checked; the oratorical displays are not shut off; but the decision is often left to the calmer consideration of a committee instead of the excitement of a debate.

The House of Peers is a troublesome element in the political world of Japan. Uyehara claims that it is “a great obstacle to the proper development of constitutional government”. But he rightly acknowledges that “the real usefulness of the House of Peers” will be more evident, if “Ministers become responsible to the House of Representatives”.^[4]

​In spite of the fact that mob violence is too frequent, there has been a great growth of the power of public opinion. There is even a trend toward democracy, not so much in form as in spirit. Some writers go so far as to assert that there is no public opinion in the true sense of the word, that there is only mob opinion. But others believe that they see in mob violence only an unfortunate mode of expression of real public opinion; and they think that, with less official repression, there will be less public violent expression. They write about “the awakening of the people”; of the “tendency toward popular government” as “steadily growing strong”; and they claim that “on the whole, it must be admitted that constitutionalism has made marked headway”. They assert that the time has passed when the Japanese nation would follow the lead of one man “as sheep follow the shepherd”. The development of such public spirit is no small result of the past twenty-five years.

In conclusion, it is interesting to notice how the Japanese seem to have united and harmonized various forms of government. They have not adopted but rather adapted what they found useful in other political systems, and have harmonized all with Imperialism. The Emperor is still nominally and theoretically the head of the Empire, the sole Sovereign; but he has voluntarily given away some of the administrative functions to an Imperial Diet, partly representative in its nature; and he has permitted a large measure of local self-government. In other words, the Japanese have evolved a form of constitutional government which theoretically recognizes the “divine right” of the Emperor to be absolute in his realm, but in practise gives to the people an increasing measure of administration with such representative institutions as an Imperial Diet and local assemblies. McLaren says:

​The Tokyo Nicki-nichi Shimbun says:

Dr. N. Hozumi, emeritus professor of the Imperial University, Tokyo, has expressed his conception in these words:

In another place Dr. Hozumi says:

It would seem, therefore, as if the Government of Japan is not unlike what Rev. R. A. Hume, in writing about church government in his “Missions from the Modern View”, called “Episco-presby-gational”. The Emperor is the “bishop”, ​the summus episcopus; the Imperial Diet is the synod or “presbytery”; and local governments are “congregations”. Thus the Japanese, past masters in the art of compromise, have established an “Episco-presbytery-gational” form of government.

This is the record of twenty-five years of “Constitutional Imperialism in Japan”. It is “Imperialism” in origin, in essence, and in substance, in theory and in fact; but it has been, is being, and will be, greatly modified by “Constitutional” elements. It may never be reversed to “Imperial Constitutionalism”: but it is quite likely that the “Imperial” features will grow smaller and weaker, while the “Constitutional” elements will grow larger and stronger. This will come not by revolution but by evolution.