Pathway to Japanese Literature

Fond Memories

Young friend.

If I were to speak of Mr. Shimada Saburo, a single scene immediately comes to mind.

In Taisho 12 (1923), from the very beginning of the year, Mr. Shimada was physically and mentally exhausted, did not attend the Diet, refused all visitors, and remained in quiet convalescence at his residence in Bancho.
At such times, those like myself—who were entirely detached from worldly affairs—were fortunate, able to occasionally visit and converse freely.

One day, when Mr. Shimada expressed that he felt deeply ashamed to remain secluded in his sickbed during such turbulent times, I vigorously shook my head in opposition.

“I do not think so.”
“I believe that your being ill and silent today may be an even greater undertaking than the decades you have spent struggling through words and writings.”

“What do you mean by that?”

As Mr. Shimada looked at me with a puzzled expression, I recalled the time years prior when he had first raised the issue of universal suffrage, stirring public controversy, and said to him:

“At that time, when I asked, ‘Mr. Shimada, is it your belief that universal suffrage can save politics from decay?’ you responded, ‘That is incorrect. Advocating for universal suffrage is a political obligation.’”
“Politics will only grow worse from here on.”
he declared.
“With those words, I felt I had come to clearly understand your innermost thoughts, and I recall immediately shifting the conversation to other matters—”

“That’s right. I also remember it well.”

Mr. Shimada nodded in agreement.
At that, I pressed further with my question.

“If that’s the case, why does politics grow increasingly worse?”

“That is because the people’s moral convictions have decayed.”

“Why did the people’s moral convictions decay?”

“That is because the belief in what Confucianism calls Heaven and Christianity calls God—this belief in Heaven or God—has perished.”

I straightened up and said.

“Look here.
“Are you not bearing such heavy anguish within yourself?”
“Is that not precisely your illness today?”
“Mr. Shimada, your current illness does not belong to Shimada Saburo alone.”
“You are suffering from the nation’s illness.”
“To put it more broadly, you are suffering from the illness common to all humanity today.”
“Therefore, I say.”
“Your illness today is a far greater undertaking than all your past activities.”

I had unwittingly forgotten about Mr. Shimada’s condition and pounded the red sandalwood table as I pressed him further.

Mr. Shimada kept his hands on his knees, closed his eyes, and remained deep in meditation.

I lowered my voice, then confessed to Mr. Shimada the meager experience of my so-called “beliefs.”
Mr. Shimada also spoke frankly of his many years of experience.
Since I began my career as a writer at the Mainichi Shimbun in the spring of Meiji 32 (1899), I had indeed received Mr. Shimada’s kindness for twenty-five years; however, I do not recall ever feeling such happiness toward him as I did on this day.

“Mr. Shimada was always so occupied that I could never savor the joy of losing track of time while listening to you speak. But today, for the first time, I was able to lay bare my innermost thoughts and converse with you.”

Having said this, I gave thanks for the “gift of illness.”

“I am truly delighted.”

After these words were spoken, Mr. Shimada’s countenance held not a trace of sorrow; clear and radiant, it seemed to shine with the light of youth.

You.
This is my Mr. Shimada.

September 1st of that year was the Great Kantō Earthquake.
The raging fire approached right behind the Shimada residence when suddenly the wind shifted, leaving several mansions in that area unburned like an oasis in the desert.

On the dawn of November 14th, Mr. Shimada truly passed away in peace.
He was seventy-three years old.

The funeral was conducted by his long-time close associates.
Mr. Uchigasaki Sakusaburo served as the chairperson.
Mr. Yoshino Sakuzo read the biography.
Mr. Ishikawa Anjiro read the posthumous writings.
Mr. Yamamuro Gunpei delivered a sermon.
Mr. Abe Isoo shared his reflections.
The remains were interred in the same grave as his second son, Mr. Tetsujiro, at Aoyama, and the stone monument bears only the inscription “Shimada Family Grave.”

Insights and Warnings for the Future

When Mr. Shimada’s complete works were published, I participated in the effort to some extent; as I went through the mountainous pile of posthumous writings one by one, I happened to lay hands on a transcript of a lecture and found myself struck by astonished-delight.
It was a speech delivered in March of Meiji 23 at a youth association meeting held at the Sukiyabashi Church Hall at the time, titled “Cooperative Enterprise (Kōperēshon).”
When speaking of the spring of Meiji 23, Foreign Minister Ōkuma had been struck by an opposition party’s explosive device the previous October over the treaty revision issue, and with Japan’s first-ever House of Representatives election scheduled for July of that year, the entire nation was in a frenzy of political activity.
Mr. Shimada had just returned from his grand tour of Europe and America the previous autumn, and this speech could almost be called his first public statement upon returning to Japan.
I want you to know Mr. Shimada—the man who declared to the youth of this era when politics was all-powerful, “The age ahead will not be one of political issues but of social issues.”
This lecture, due to the circumstances of the complete works, was ultimately never published and remains valuable material unknown even to researchers of social thought history in our country today; therefore, I have transcribed Mr. Shimada’s words exactly as he spoke them and earnestly wish for you to read them.
It may be somewhat lengthy, but please bear with me.

“First, speaking from today’s circumstances, I believe people view society far too simplistically.”
“The people of Europe too have repeatedly made this error throughout their history.”
“To clarify—when visible political ills exist, people think society will greatly improve if they simply eliminate those ills. Yet even when they strive to remove them, society does not improve as imagined.”
“This leads to profound disappointment and erupts into major turmoil.”
“In our nation too, some believe reforming our various political ills as Europe did would surely create a golden world—but I consider this an excessive focus on politics.”
“To construct society requires various tools.”
“Elements like families and national education—when gathered together, they form society.”
“Within these social elements exists what we call politics.”
“Moreover, while politics constitutes a major social component, viewed from society’s entirety it remains but one part.”
“Therefore, even if all political ills were eradicated, only part of society might improve—the whole would not.”

“In France, prior to the revolution, the apportionment of taxes was truly deplorable: officials, nobles, or clergy owned vast amounts of real estate obtained through their own efforts yet paid no taxes, while those paying taxes were impoverished citizens possessing only meager plots of land.
Other similar political ills were first abolished by the revolution.
However, no golden world arrived; instead, the nation frequently encountered new difficulties.”

“Japan too has now established an unprecedented form of government starting this year. Those who placed great hopes upon this system likely believe that if only a constitutional government is established, a truly good world will come—but I do not think so.
Then what evils will arise hereafter? A great conflict will erupt between the wealthy and the impoverished.”

“The problem facing the nations of Europe and America today is this: how should we address the struggles between rich and poor?”
“When will this war come to an end?”
“That Europe today encounters this problem is, I believe, something that was naturally unforeseen.”
“If political ills were eliminated, they believed society would improve drastically.”
“This was one hope.”
“The other was the invention of machinery.”
“Due to the invention of machinery, things could be produced in abundance, and the poor who had been suffering until now thought their burdens would be eased.”
“That was not only the view of present-day Europeans but also what Europeans of old likewise believed.”
“In ancient Greece, a waterwheel came from the East.”
“Regarding this waterwheel, the poet Antipatros sang thus.”

“Ah, O laborers! O laborers who turn the millstone!
Rest your hands.
Sleep peacefully through the night.
Pay no mind to the rooster crowing dawn.
Behold—by Jupiter’s decree, the water god delivers you from toil.”

Modern Europeans, like this ancient poet, had placed their hopes in machinery’s invention.
“Not only common folk pinned such hopes on mechanical innovation, but scholars too believed these inventions would eradicate human suffering. Yet in truth, all met with profound disappointment.”

“There is another.
In previous societies, even if there were cumbersome aspects—for example, conducting business required obtaining a license.
In our country as well, before the Meiji Restoration, there existed patents in commerce, and even talented individuals could not engage in work freely unless their social status was favorable.
They argued that such practices were contrary to reason, and due to attacks by scholar-politicians, the so-called patent system was abolished.
When such harmful restrictions were lifted, they had placed their hopes in the advent of a world of free enterprise and free contracts.
However, based on experience up to today, this too must be called a disappointment.”

“If political reforms, the invention of machinery, and the abolition of economic privileges were all achieved, one might think the people would be at peace with no grievances—but such is not the case. Even if these three are achieved, a fierce war will follow. The war between capitalists and workers is tenfold more intense—a truly dreadful war.”

“Considering this,” I reflected, “it becomes necessary to form a judgment regarding Japan’s future destiny. I have heard it stated in a traveler’s account that ‘There exists no country in the West where the lower classes show such absence of discontent as in Japan.’ Yet I do not consider this statement extreme in the least. While a greater abundance of wealth is undoubtedly desirable, discontent must inevitably arise when means of distribution remain unestablished—even if production methods are fully developed. In our nation, though the total wealth remains modest, its distribution approaches equity. In the West, wealth exists in abundance yet divides with terrible disparity.”

“When we look at Japan’s current state, it has remained poor as a whole up to now.”
“To be sure, disparities between rich and poor did exist; however, during the feudal era—which might be called a form of state socialism—those Chinese-influenced economists prohibited mergers and suppressed the emergence of large landowners and wealthy individuals, while feudal lords confiscated properties or advocated depreciation to invalidate debts.”
“Through these rather violent measures, both the extremely wealthy and the extremely poor were reduced.”

"In addition to this, through Eastern ascetic traditions, they placed importance on values beyond wealth. As the proverb says, 'A samurai may go hungry, but he keeps his toothpick high'—this principle had restrained wealth's dominance. This, I believe, served as a balancing force that kept people from directing all their talents toward amassing riches."

“In the future, Japan would see the disparity between rich and poor grow increasingly severe,”
it possessed the same conditions that the West had brought about up to that day.
Contracts were free.
Strategies to prevent mergers should, of course, not be implemented.
The adoption of machinery would lead to the reduction of human labor.
The path heading toward the state of hardship experienced by Western nations was already in place.
The Briton Carcup had sighed at this state and said, “Europeans have gained political civil rights, but they remain economic dependents without land or homes.”
The increase in economic dependents arose from machinery causing the separation of capital and labor.
In Britain too, during the time before machinery existed, capital and labor had often been in the same person’s hands.
Our present-day farming households resembled this.
Manufacturers were no different.
During that earlier period, since employers fostered familial-like relationships, natural human compassion—such as viewing employees as slaves—rarely surfaced.
Once powerful machinery was introduced and thousands of workers gathered, it became like a separate nation where laborers never even saw their master’s face.
Furthermore, when machinery was fully adopted through capital’s influence, one or two individuals’ wealth proved insufficient, giving rise to corporate organizations.
Once companies formed, shareholders and workers would never meet face-to-face.
Then nothing remained but competition between capital and labor, with no human compassion to temper it.
I believed this would inevitably occur in our nation’s economic society—industrial mergers would advance, reducing many to subordinates.
If these people could remain employed indefinitely, that might suffice—but such would never be the case.
When production competition intensified, various restrictions would follow.
If overproduction made sales channels distant, they dismissed the laborers.

Even if wages were low, as long as there was work, there was money to buy bread; but once dismissed from employment, the money to buy bread vanished, leaving them with no choice but to sit idle. Capitalists and workers had to inevitably engage in fierce battle. If they were animals with hope, they could not help but conceive of a way to destroy this system.

“I am neither of the Socialist Party nor the Communist Party, but when considering our nation, a state where one among a hundred grows exceedingly wealthy while ninety-nine remain in extreme poverty should bring no human joy—nor does it ensure national security.”
“As the people multiply and distribution spreads thoroughly, I believe we should rejoice when a hundred people find nearly equal comfort.”
“This, I maintain, is the crucial point we must heed for Japan’s future.”
“It is my hope to position Japan within such a societal condition.”
“Even should Japan fail to produce someone like Vanderbilt, provided the masses do not want for necessities, I intend to forge a wealthy nation free from warfare between capital and labor.”
“Yet this does not mean I advocate cowering before potential harms while clinging to our current primitive state.”
“I still mean to establish grand manufacturing enterprises.”
“Rather than laboring alone beneath sweltering skies as we do today, I would have us employ machinery—but simultaneously pursue methods to forestall the ills that follow such progress.”

Thus, Mr. Shimada expounded on Germany’s Socialist Party and Britain’s trade unions, and finally offered an account grounded in firsthand observations regarding “cooperation,” bringing his monumental lecture to a close.

I read this stenographic record and was astonished at how times had changed.
The concept of an "Industrial Revolution" had now become common knowledge among boys and girls.
Yet around Meiji 20 [1887], it remained little more than a strange rumor even in university students' minds.
At that time, I felt profound admiration for Mr. Shimada's foresight, sincerity, and eloquence as he patiently laid bare these coming realities—explaining them as one might break bread for a child.
Mr. Shimada was thirty-nine years old then.

Reading this, I came to understand one more thing.

Exactly ten years later, in Meiji 34 (1901), we created the Social Democratic Party. Standing amidst public opinion filled with hatred, aversion, and contempt, Mr. Shimada authored detailed and meticulous commentaries titled "Socialism and Social Parties" in the Mainichi Shimbun newspaper over the course of more than a month. These were later retitled Socialism: An Overview and published, becoming widely read at the time. How should one describe Mr. Shimada’s attitude at that time? If we were to borrow the current popular term of the time, it would be called a “sympa.” However, how must it have appeared to those who viewed him from a distance with suspicion? Among the founders of the Social Party, Abe Isoo and Katayama Sen were friends who had close ties with Mr. Shimada. Though I am a person of no account, I was in fact the member of Mr. Shimada’s inner circle closest to him. In the eyes of nobles and wealthy capitalists, Mr. Shimada would have appeared as the de facto leader of the Social Party. In the dramatic event known as the Meiji 36 (1903) Yokohama election, this matter seems to have been one of the major motivating factors. The Meiji 36 Yokohama election was not merely a pivotal event in Mr. Shimada’s personal life—it was also a vital movement worthy of attention in both the history of political thought and social thought.

However, before I explain that, there is one more thing regarding Mr. Shimada’s ideological matters that I want you to hear.

Around the time of writing *The Complete Account of the Opening of the Country*

As I opened various volumes of the complete works to discuss Mr. Shimada，a small printed notice for Volume Four emerged.
It bore my signature.

“Jōi-ism is not merely a superstition from when the Black Ships first arrived at the shogunate’s end.”
With changing eras, only its language had shifted slightly; its essence remained wholly unchanged, coursing violently through our people’s veins today like a thundering cascade.
Jōi-ism was born from ethno-deific faith.
Therefore, first and foremost, it constituted a religious issue—a moral issue.
Thus, it permeated all matters of domestic governance and foreign policy alike.
When scholars, thinkers, and politicians alike cowered before this iceberg-like traditional pressure—hesitating, evading, flattering, straining not to provoke its tyranny—Mr. Shimada invariably stood upon his uniquely impartial foundation. Armed with unshakable conviction and vast erudition, he never failed to enlighten these obstinate public sentiments whenever occasion demanded or events unfolded.
“Treaty Revisions and Mixed Residence,” composed amid the Meiji 22 (1889) treaty revision turmoil; “Japan and Russia,” written when our people demonized Russia post-Sino-Japanese War; “The Evolution of Foreign Thought,” published as Japan first opened mixed residence while ignorant priests and shrine officials preyed on public fears through wild rumors—these writings and essays, preceding their eras to chart the people’s course and aims, truly formed an immortal self-portrait of Mr. Shimada while simultaneously serving as a lucid grand sermon that should stir introspection and repentance within today’s bewildered society.”

It was in Taishō 13; I don’t even remember writing it, but reading it now leaves no doubt it’s my own prose.
Within these haphazardly scribbled essays from ten years past—carelessly written then discarded—I sense my entire store of admiration and criticism toward Mr. Shimada lies exhausted.

Reflecting upon this—Meiji 20 (1887), when Mr. Shimada withdrew from worldly affairs to immerse himself in writing *The Complete Account of the Opening of the Country* beneath his study window, when he brandished his historian’s pen to vindicate Grand Councilor Ii Naosuke who had melted away like Sakuradamon snow as a sacrifice to Jōi ideology—this appears precisely when Jōi sentiments, long smothered in post-Restoration dormancy, approached their turning point for resurgence.
The twin demands of “parliamentary inauguration” and “treaty revision” now rested entirely in government hands, leaving private-sector politicians and patriots agonizing through equal measures of exhaustion and idleness.
Prime Minister Ito Hirobumi drafted the constitution.
Foreign Minister Inoue Kaoru prepared for treaty revisions.

A springtime of reveling in peace and prosperity.

1. April 20: Prime Minister Ito Hirobumi hosted a costume ball for domestic and foreign dignitaries and noble ladies at the Rokumeikan Hall in Hibiya.

1. Over three days beginning on the 27th at Foreign Minister Inoue's residence in Azabu Toriizaka, theatrical performances were presented for imperial viewing: on the first day before His Majesty the Emperor, the second before Her Majesty the Empress, and the third before Her Majesty the Empress Dowager—all three of Their Majesties honoring the events with their presence.
The actors included Danjuro, Kikugoro, Sadanji and others; the productions were *Terakoya* and *Kanjinchō*.

1. May 1: Thus, Foreign Minister Inoue Kaoru invited the plenipotentiary ministers of various countries and finally formally convened the treaty revision conference.

A sudden whirlwind erupted.
Within the revised treaty draft, details about organizing courts through the addition of foreign judges to lawsuits involving foreigners and similar matters were published in an English-language newspaper.
An insult to national sovereignty—public discourse exploded in tumultuous uproar.

On June 23, Tani Tateki, Minister of Agriculture and Commerce, returned after completing his inspection tour of Europe. He was the renowned commander of the Meiji 10 (1877) Siege of Kumamoto and a stalwart of the national rights doctrine. He submitted a written opposition to Foreign Minister Inoue’s treaty proposal.

1. On July 26, Tani Tateki, Minister of Agriculture and Commerce, was dismissed from his post upon request.

1. On July 29, the Treaty Revision Conference was adjourned indefinitely.

1. On August 1, a throng of patriots surrounded Tani Tateki’s residence in Ichigaya to honor him.

1. On September 17, Inoue Kaoru resigned as Foreign Minister, and Ito Hirobumi concurrently assumed the role of Foreign Minister.

1. On October 3, the opportunistic veteran politician Goto Shojiro hosted a banquet for private-sector politicians at Shiba San'entei and embarked on an anti-government movement.

1. On November 15, a national convention of like-minded individuals was held at Asakusa Ouyukan, with Goto in attendance.

1. On December 25, the Peace Preservation Ordinance was implemented, expelling 570 private-sector politicians beyond three ri (approximately 12 kilometers) outside Tokyo.
Nakajima Nobuyuki, Kataoka Kankichi, Nakae Chōmin, Ozaki Yukio, and other prominent figures were among those expelled.

The Turmoil of the Treaty Revision Issue

Mr. Shimada’s *The Complete Account of the Opening of the Country* was completed in December and published in March of the following year, Meiji 21 (1888). At the same time, Mr. Shimada embarked on his planned tour of Europe and America as scheduled, but when he returned to Japan in August of Meiji 22 (1889), the nation was once again in the midst of roiling turmoil over the treaty revision issue.

1. February 1, Meiji 21 (1888): Ōkuma Shigenobu assumed office as Foreign Minister.

1. On February 11, Meiji 22 (1889), the Constitution was promulgated.

1. In April, Foreign Minister Ōkuma’s treaty revision proposal appeared in *The London Times* following established precedent, whereupon objections once again arose between government authorities and private citizens concerning the foreign judges issue.

1. On August 18, treaty opponents held a grand meeting at Nakamura-ro in Koto.
2. From September 25 through 27, the Kaishintō conducted a three-day grand speech rally supporting the treaty.
3. On October 7, Imperial University professors and others submitted a written opinion opposing the treaty revision proposal.

1. On the 11th of the same month, Privy Council Chairman Ito Hirobumi submitted his resignation.
1. On the 15th, an imperial council was held.

1. On the 18th, Foreign Minister Ōkuma suffered serious injuries and lost a leg.

Thus, the "conservative" spirit—having tasted victory twice in succession over the treaty revision issue—now advanced with grandeur, hoisting great banners inscribed with slogans like "national sovereignty" and "national essence."

Jōi-ism in Disguise

During Ōkuma’s treaty crisis, a university philosophy professor named Inoue Tetsujirō returned from studying in Germany.
Immediately afterward, he published a pamphlet titled *Mixed Residence Theory*.
It argued that permitting Westerners to reside freely within Japan would lead to the Japanese people’s extinction.
Whether Inoue genuinely believed his own claims remains unknown, but this disguised Jōi-ism resonated perfectly with the conservative mentality that had begun surging recklessly.

1. On October 9, Meiji 23 (1890), the Diet convocation order was issued, and on November 25, the Diet—long-awaited by the people for many years—was finally set to convene for the first time.

2. On October 30 of the same year [Meiji 23 (1890)], came the Imperial Rescript on Education.

Then Inoue wrote something titled *The Conflict Between Education and Religion*. He argued Christianity should not be tolerated because it clashed with the Imperial Rescript on Education—a revival of the Kirishitan prohibition. Among all Meiji-era writings, none were as crude as Inoue’s *Conflict*. Yet nothing was more prized. Across Japan, likely not a single magazine related to Shinto or Buddhism failed to reprint Inoue’s conflict theory like a talisman.

1. In September of Meiji 26 (1893), the Yamagata faction’s political party, the Kokumin Kyokai (National Association), convened conventions in Kyushu and Tohoku and passed a resolution opposing mixed residence.

1. On October 1 of the same year, Abeiiwane, Kanmuchi Tsunetada, and others organized the Dai Nippon Association, advocating “opposition to mixed residence.”
1. On December 19, during Abeiiwane’s explanation of the Treaty Enforcement Recommendation Proposal in the House of Representatives, an imperial edict for a ten-day recess was issued.

1. On the 29th [of December 1893], Foreign Minister Mutsu Munemitsu delivered a speech opposing treaty enforcement in the House of Representatives.

1. On the 30th [of December 1893], the House of Representatives was dissolved.

“The Advocate of ‘Treaty Enforcement’”

“Young people like you don’t understand this ‘Treaty Enforcement’ matter.”

Under the foreign treaties concluded during the Ansei era, foreigners’ residence was restricted to specific settlements—areas under extraterritoriality where neither Japanese law nor police held authority.
This extraterritoriality, denounced as an insult to Japan’s sovereignty, formed the persistent “Treaty Revision Issue” that had vexed Meiji political history since the Restoration.
Though foreigners were ostensibly barred by treaty from residing outside these settlements, in practice they exploited “travel permits” to freely settle inland and conduct business.
Missionaries built churches and proselytized while establishing permanent residences.
Others were hired as foreign language teachers at remote mountain schools and settled there.
All operated under these travel permits.
Yet Japanese legal authority could not touch these foreigners’ persons.
At Karuizawa’s foreigner-exclusive summer resort, signs even appeared declaring—absurdly—“No Japanese Allowed Here.”

Mr. Shimada had been an advocate of treaty enforcement from the very beginning.
The reason treaty revisions could not be achieved was that foreigners, while in fact enjoying the freedom and convenience of mixed residence, possessed the privilege of not submitting to Japanese laws.
Therefore, to expedite treaty revisions, it was necessary to strictly enforce the settlement system and make them realize the inconveniences of the current treaty; this matter had already been written about in his Meiji 22 (1889) work *Treaty Revision Theory*.

The "Recommendation Proposal for Strict Enforcement of Current Treaties," presented to the House of Representatives in Meiji 26 (1893), reads as follows:

"The House of Representatives recognizes that in implementing the current treaties, there exist instances where the government impairs our Empire's rights."
"Therefore, the House of Representatives earnestly hopes the government will clarify treaty rights and enforce them."
"Hereby propose."

Mr. Shimada was also one of those who supported this recommendation proposal.
However, within the content of this single recommendation proposal flowed ideas and emotions as incompatible as ice and charcoal—utterly irreconcilable.

1. The liberal faction advocating mixed residence policy—Mr. Shimada and others.

1. The national sovereignty faction advocating anti-mixed residence policy—that is, the Jōi faction.

The elderly Abeiiwane, who was the presenter of this recommendation proposal, was the leader of the Dai Nippon Association, which advocated “opposition to mixed residence” as its sole policy.

Prevailing Against Government Pressure

This was during the second Ito Hirobumi cabinet, with Mutsu Munemitsu serving as Foreign Minister.
Mutsu denounced this enforcement proposal as isolationist rhetoric, leading to the Diet’s dissolution.
The foremost aim of the upcoming election became indisputably the treaty enforcement doctrine.
The government’s reach penetrated even Mr. Shimada’s electoral district.
To the government’s eyes, harboring advocates of treaty enforcement in Yokohama—Japan’s very gateway—must have posed an extraordinary impediment.
This reality surfaces in the stenographic record of his candidacy declaration speech on February 25, Meiji 27 (1894).
Mr. Shimada commenced his address thus:

“Regarding this competition between Mr. Kimura Riemon and myself, I believe it necessary to state the points of contention.”
“In response to Mr. Kimura’s proposal, on the 8th of this month, I met with two certain gentlemen.”
“The gist was: ‘We have no disagreement with your character, but there are two conditions.”
“The first one was: ‘Agree to support the prison expenses national treasury disbursement bill.’”
“The second one was: ‘We want you to retract your support for the treaty enforcement proposal.’”
“‘Since these two matters are for the benefit of Yokohama City,’ they stated that ‘if you did so, there would be no competition.’”
“I cannot make any promises with such conditions attached.”
“To do such a thing would mean deceiving my own heart—I cannot bring myself to act with such half-hearted measures.”
“If these matters are indeed necessary conditions, and if my policies and convictions amount to a detriment to the nation and Yokohama, then let all reasons be fully explained so that we may openly discuss and thoroughly examine them—but to make a baseless proposal and demand that I respond to conditional terms merely to avoid competition with Mr. Kimura is something I cannot do.”
“It is acceptable for us to fully discuss matters based on clear reasons such as national and public interests or Yokohama City’s practical interests; however, I cannot bend my principles merely for the sake of smoothness or expediency.”
“I am prepared to lose in any competition.”
“If one loses as a minority, waiting until majority agreement is obtained constitutes the essence of representative government—the same principle as when a cabinet loses in the Diet and resigns honorably. Therefore, losing is no disgrace, but bending one’s arguments without cause is something I consider most improper.”
“When viewed from a lifetime of work, I am resolved that it is better to lose temporarily than to bend my arguments and win.”
“To accept conditions for the sake of temporary convenience and then utter falsehoods would ultimately concern my own person—I cannot do such a thing.’ These were the opening remarks of his address.”

At this time, the “offer to withdraw from the race” from opposition candidate Kimura in fact carried profoundly grave implications.
The previous year—that is, during the notorious election interference of Meiji 25 [1892]—the battle in Yokohama, Shimada Saburo’s political base where he fought as the opposition party’s stalwart commander, had been a fiercely contested struggle that threatened to erupt into open flames.

At that time, the election law imposed a high qualification threshold of fifteen yen in direct national taxes, and Yokohama, being a small area with a sparse population at the time, likely had a total electorate of around three hundred people.
Moreover, since it was an open ballot requiring signatures, the outcome could be predicted even before the election.
The opposing candidate, Kimura Riemon, was a senior managing director at the Yokohama Specie Bank and was older than Mr. Shimada.
Whether Mr. Shimada would lose by a single vote or lose due to being younger in the event of a tie, his defeat was in any case a foregone conclusion unanimously anticipated by both allies and enemies.
However, the result of the vote count showed Shimada Saburo elected by a single vote.
Truly unexpected, utterly unexpected—yet within this lies a tragic yet noble tale.
All eligible voters affiliated with the Yokohama Specie Bank were naturally assumed to be supporting Kimura; no one had doubted this.
However, there existed one young admirer of Shimada.
On election morning, he cast his vote for Shimada, then immediately proceeded to the bank to submit a pre-written letter of resignation before returning home.
This single ballot completely transformed what had seemed an inevitable fate.
I now regret being unable to tell you this person’s name, having forgotten it.
When one considers the visceral reality of this hard-fought battle—where the bloodstains had not yet dried—it becomes clear how potent a temptation lay within Kimura’s “conditional non-competition” proposal.
Moreover, in his swift and rational dismissal of it—without an instant’s hesitation—one glimpses the essence of Shimada Saburo’s character.

Parting with Political Parties

From this point onward, the political world saw alliances form and dissolve using "strict treaty enforcement" as a wedge.
On one hand, the Ito Cabinet and the Liberal Party formed an alliance, while against this, six factions advocating strict treaty enforcement—among them Mr. Shimada’s Progressive Party and the Dai Nippon Association opposing mixed residence—banded together.

1894–1895: the First Sino-Japanese War.

In March 1896, the six treaty enforcement factions disbanded and merged to form the Progressive Party, with Count Ōkuma becoming its de facto leader.

In September of that year, following the resignation of the Ito Cabinet, a coalition cabinet was formed between the so-called Satsuma clique and the Progressive Party, with Matsukata Masayoshi as Prime Minister and Okuma Shigenobu as Foreign Minister. Behind both parties stood Mitsubishi, with Iwasaki Yanosuke personally assuming the position of Governor of the Bank of Japan.
This cabinet met an exceptionally ignominious end due to the despotic governance of Satsuma faction politicians and Progressive Party members' scramble for official posts. However, during the final consultation concerning the alliance issue with the government at the Progressive Party Diet representatives' meeting on November 7, 1897, Mr. Shimada made the following statement.
This speech from that day was transcribed into written form and published in the Mainichi Shimbun.

“The question today has become whether to sever ties with the government.”
“I opposed this alliance from its very inception last year, when members of the General Affairs Committee first proposed it.”
“From my individual standpoint regarding today’s matter, it merits nothing more than cold disregard—no need for further debate.”
“Though notified of my election as a standing council member, I have not once attended headquarters since last year.”
“Even when pressed, I categorically refused all demands from headquarters and did not yield.”
“This stems neither from abandoning political engagement nor neglecting societal concerns.”
“My conscience compels opposition to the Progressive Party’s errant policies—particularly those of headquarters members—and I remain convinced an alliance with the government was always inadmissible.”

In an era when political parties based their actions around “political power,” someone like Mr. Shimada—who moved according to principles and policies—was nothing but an obstacle.
In the December 1898 Diet session, when Mr. Shimada’s fiscal opinions proved incompatible with the Constitutionalist Party—leading him to completely withdraw from party politics and become an independent Shimada Saburo—an article titled *“To My Fellow Party Members”* was published, which read as follows.

“I have finally left the Constitutionalist Party and become an independent representative in the Diet.”
“Recently, unfortunately, I have come to differ in opinion with you gentlemen and have been unable to march in step; therefore, I have firmly declined to assume positions of responsibility in the party’s crucial offices.”
“Some have advised me to withdraw from the party.”
“Yet my relationship with this party is of long standing. From the very founding of the Reform Party in Meiji 15 [1882], I have followed behind you gentlemen, laboring tirelessly as it transformed first into the Progressive Party, then into the Constitutional Party, and further into the Constitutionalist Party up to this day. Throughout, I have adhered to our predecessors’ teachings, shared joys and sorrows with my peers, aligned my actions with yours, and myself introduced no small number of members.”
“Although I often opposed you gentlemen with my obstinacy, you tolerated this and did not sever ties with me.”
“Such was the long-standing and profound nature of our friendship and camaraderie.”
“Even if there are minor disagreements in opinion, how could one suddenly withdraw from the party as Taguchi Urakichi—whose career path differs—did?”
“And now, finding myself at odds with party resolutions on fiscal issues, I was ultimately compelled to withdraw from the party.”
“How could one not feel a profound sense of past and present?”

However, this was merely a formal issue; the time when those six factions disbanded and formed the Progressive Party was precisely when Mr. Shimada withdrew from the party.

Struggle Against the Distorted Ideology of Christian Prohibition

When looking at this article *“To My Fellow Party Members”* today, it had been published in the newspaper on December 23.
It was on the day before, the 22nd, that I first visited the Banchō residence and received consent to join the Mainichi Shimbun.
The first impression of Mr. Shimada—who conversed cheerfully with an air of having shed a heavy burden—remained vividly etched in my memory.
“Students,” “workers,” “women.”
These three, Mr. Shimada declared, would henceforth form his three principal themes.
At that time, Mr. Shimada was forty-seven, and I remained thirty.

In the aftermath of the Sino-Japanese War, as the long-standing challenge of treaty revisions had finally been carried out and the date of July 17, Meiji 32 (1899)—when foreigners would at last gain freedom of mixed residence—approached, a political movement advocating for the establishment of a state-recognized religion arose among Buddhists, a distorted vestige of Christian prohibition ideology. In regions where temples still wielded considerable residual power, this manifested as significant pressure even upon Diet representative elections.
At this time, Mr. Shimada published a substantial long essay titled *The Evolution of Foreign Thought* as part of his efforts to enlighten.
It was a masterpiece essay that elucidated, at a single glance, the relationship between politics and religion in both Eastern and Western hemispheres, and I believe it remains the most suitable material for understanding Mr. Shimada’s scholarship and insight.
I would like you all to take a look at Volume 4 of Mr. Shimada’s collected works, *Essays on Politics and Religion*.

The Fierce Conflict Between Aristocrats and Wealthy Capitalists

Then, you see.

As previously arranged, I will now recount the Yokohama election of the thirty-sixth year.
As I had earlier described regarding how Mitsubishi brokered a coalition cabinet between Satsuma and the Progressive Party following the Sino-Japanese War, Mitsubishi now drafted a new script for this cabinet reshuffle drama.

1. Meiji 35 December 6 was scheduled as the convening date for the 17th Diet.
The Katsura Taro Cabinet era.

1. On the night of the 3rd, at Mitsubishi son-in-law Kato Takaaki’s Ichigaya residence, a two-leader meeting was held between Rikken Seiyukai President Ito Hirobumi and Kensei Honto President Okuma Shigenobu.

1. On the following day, the 4th, both parties held their respective assemblies where speeches by their leaders led to a decision on parliamentary strategy for an all-out government attack.

1. On December 16, the House of Representatives Budget Committee rejected the government’s fiscal proposal and immediately changed the schedule to submit it to the plenary session.
Just as they were about to enter deliberations, an imperial edict ordered a five-day recess.

1. Adjournment after adjournment—on the 28th, dissolution finally came.

1. March 1, 1903 (Meiji 36): Election scheduled.

1. On January 7 of that year [1903], Iwasaki Yanosuke summoned a certain Asada from Yokohama to his villa in Ōiso and instructed that Katō Takaaki be elected from Yokohama.

Traditionally, Yokohama had two factions—the merchant faction and the landowner faction—and Mr. Shimada’s base was primarily with the merchant faction, while Asada was a leading figure of that faction.

On one front, a campaign urging Mr. Shimada to withdraw his candidacy arose from Yokohama’s influential figures, while Shibusawa Eiichi—due to his longstanding personal friendship with Mr. Shimada—even drove his carriage to the Banchō residence twice to fervently advise him to abandon his candidacy.

Terror of an Era: Shimada Saburo

I considered it entirely fitting that Mr. Shimada was abhorred by the aristocrats and wealthy capitalists.
In recent years, every one of Mr. Shimada's social and political campaigns must have seemed pure terror through the lens of those aristocrats and capitalists.
To mention one or two examples that particularly startled society's eyes and ears,

1. The Ashio Mine Pollution Incident.

2. The Hoshi Toru Incident.

3. Socialist Party Incident.

Since I had already addressed Mr. Shimada’s stance toward the Socialist Party earlier, I would now relate the course of the other two matters.

(1) The Ashio Mine Pollution Incident and Mr. Shimada

In November of Meiji 34 (1901), Mr. Shimada conducted an inspection of the polluted areas along the Watarase River in the company of Venerable Tanaka Shozo.
Upon returning, he recounted: “What shocked me was how villages I’d seen two or three years prior had deteriorated nearly beyond recognition.
These destitute souls aren’t lazy—this isn’t nature’s wrath—it’s purely political malpractice, and society must shoulder that burden.
With winter’s bite upon us now, sharing bread with the hungry and cloaks with the shivering can’t wait—it’s humanity’s pressing duty.
The mine pollution crusade has always been activists’ political battleground, but I want to entrust this anew to women’s hands—as an outpouring of fraternal love.”

I wholeheartedly agreed.

“Then whose hands should we entrust this to?”

At that time, if one were to speak of women who held promise in such social endeavors, there was nothing outside the Christian Women’s Reform Society. The Christian Women’s Reform Society had a considerable history, but aside from ritually submitting petitions to the Diet year after year for the abolition of licensed prostitution and the prohibition of alcohol, it did almost nothing. I had held the hope of breathing new life into this Reform Society and making it a vital force in society.

“The Women’s Reform Society would be suitable.”

I proposed.

Thus, on the sixteenth of that month, an inspection of the mining area was conducted by four or five people including the two elder women of the Christian Women’s Reform Society—Yajima Kajiko and Shioda Chiseko—and the Women’s Relief Society for the Mining Pollution Area was established with Mrs. Shioda as its chairperson.
Mrs. Yajima was a woman of great prominence whose name was widely known throughout society.
Mrs. Shioda was a woman of remarkable capability; everything from this relief society’s fundraising and distribution of goods to the medical treatment of patients was planned and executed through her own mind and hands.

1. On the night of November 29, the first lecture meeting of the Relief Society was held at the Youth Hall in Kanda Midoshiro-cho.
The hall was packed with listeners, struck by spiritual fervor.

2. The second meeting was held at Hongo Harukicho Central Hall.

1. December 10: Venerable Tanaka’s direct appeal.

The Ashio Mine pollution issue—once mocked with scornful remarks like “Tanaka’s toxic obsession”—transformed into a pure and fresh radiance, newly illuminating society’s sentiments.

From the Women’s Relief Society emerged a new initiative.
At one meeting, someone suggested that exposing contemporary youth and students to the polluted mining areas might constitute practical education.
This led to,

1. On December 27, an inspection of polluted mining areas was conducted by metropolitan students.
By school type: Imperial University, Gakushūin, various private universities, and Buddhist and Christian schools.

1. On the following day, the 28th, a report meeting on the student inspection was held at the Youth Hall.

1. From New Year’s Day of the following year, students’ roadside speeches began.

1. On January 7, an inspection of the polluted mining areas initiated by Imperial University students.

1. On the previous night, Education Minister Kikuchi Dairoku summoned University President Yamakawa Kenjiro and prohibited the university students’ inspection of the polluted mining areas.

1. Chairperson Shioda embarked on a speaking tour via the Tokaido to Kyoto and Osaka.
Particularly at gatherings like the one in Osaka Nakanoshima, the audience was overcome with emotion, as if driven to frenzy.

1. Inspections of polluted mining areas by young women and others from Kyushu and Ou regions.

1. The elderly wife of mine owner Furukawa Ichibee drowned in the Kanda River.

At this time as well, Shibusawa Eiichi advised Mr. Shimada through an intermediary to halt the pollution movement.

(2) Hoshi Toru and Mr. Shimada

In June of Meiji 31 (1898), when the merger of the Progressive Party and Liberal Party brought about the Constitutional Party Cabinet, Hoshi Toru—then serving as minister to the United States under Foreign Minister Mutsu Munemitsu—abruptly returned to Japan and demanded a cabinet position. At that time, the political strategist Inukai Bokudo adamantly refused this, arguing that Hoshi’s inclusion would inevitably cause internal collapse. Upon realizing his cabinet appointment was impossible, Hoshi exaggerated incidents such as “Education Minister Ozaki’s republican speech,” ultimately orchestrating external sabotage to become the Liberal Party’s de facto leader.

In Meiji 32 (1899), during the Tokyo City Council reelections, Hoshi ran from Kōjimachi and secured a council seat. The three-tier electoral system then in place meant Kōjimachi had only one first-class taxpayer—a certain Mr. Mitsui. Through Inoue Kaoru’s patronage, Hoshi entered the council as a first-class member and joined its executive committee, marking the beginning of his political maneuvering. Tokyo’s most pressing issue at the time was constructing a streetcar system, which the council had already resolved to manage municipally. However, three private companies launched lobbying efforts, leading the Board of Aldermen to resolve on privatizing the streetcars on September 29, Meiji 32 (1899). During the October 10 council session, they openly employed violence to intimidate members into approving the privatization bill.

When Ito Hirobumi led bureaucrats and founded the Constitutional Political Friends Association on September 15, Meiji 33 (1900), based on the Liberal Party, Prime Minister Yamagata recommended Ito and submitted his resignation on the 26th.
The Constitutional Political Friends Association—still not having completed its internal organization and in a state of semi-panic—announced the formation of a new cabinet only on October 19, with Hoshi entering as Communications Minister.

On the 20th, an article titled “To the Citizens of Tokyo” appeared in the *Mainichi Shimbun*.

“When citizens previously campaigned to abolish the special city system and establish an independent municipal administration, they themselves declared: ‘How can Tokyo—beneath the imperial seat, the nation’s capital, a wellspring of scholarship and culture, and the center of political power—be denied the right to self-governance?’”
“Now that the city has obtained this right, how will it administer it?”
“Have not the city’s public institutions been seized by corrupt individuals who now wield them like an inverted blade poised at your throats?”
“Previously, Hoshi Toru and Amamiya Keijiro corrupted public assemblies, openly conducted bribery through their grotesque campaign for the streetcar system—thereby provoking a major disturbance.”
“Since then, these vile creatures have grown ever more brazen in their rampage—using chaff to reach rice under false pretenses; fostering scoundrels through port construction schemes; squandering municipal funds under school unification guises with greedy hands.”
“Their corrupt deeds defy enumeration.”
“Even recording one hair from nine oxen’s worth of their crimes would still stain my pen.”
“We must therefore cite but one instance of these acts to fulfill our duty to speak truth.”

The fact that they had received bribes from the lead pipe company had been reported multiple times.
I shall now present the detailed circumstances below.

Draft 1: Regarding the Purchase of Lead Pipes for Water Supply

1. Amount: 104,207 yen and 45 sen.

This covers the price for 1,078,750 pounds of lead pipes, at 9 sen 6 rin 6 mo per pound.

The person in charge was Natsume Kinjiro.
Drafted on June 12, Meiji 33 [1900].
Approved by the upper bureau on the 14th of the same month.
Received by the Board of Aldermen on the same day.
Immediately submitted to the main review committee.

On the 15th of the same month, Hasegawa withheld the documents.

On the 19th of the same month, [it was] submitted to the main committee.
On the same day, documents were withheld by Ota.

Draft 2: Regarding the Purchase Using the Increased Price Due to Modifications to Water Supply Lead Pipes

1. Amount: 107,875 yen.

This constitutes the increased price for 1,078,750 pounds of lead pipes, calculated at 10 sen per pound.

The person in charge was Natsume Kinjiro.
Drafted on June 30, Meiji 33.
Approved by the upper bureau on the same day.
Received by the Board of Aldermen on July 2.
Submitted to the main review committee on the same day.
Finalized at the Board of Aldermen on July 3.

This document chronicles how public officials of Tokyo City—capital of the Great Japanese Empire—openly threatened others and perpetrated daylight robbery.
By raising the price from 9 sen 6 rin 6 mo to 10 sen per pound, they embezzled a differential sum of 3,667 yen.

Fellow citizens:
Examine the key points in this document's timeline.
The withholding of documents is by no means a neutral or insignificant act.
It was a means of extorting bribes over time—Committee member Ota Naotsugu withheld this first proposal on June 19, personally negotiated with Lead Pipe Company President Gō Seinosuke, and threatened that purchases would cease unless bribes were paid.
The company’s base costs and production expenses included no provisions for bribes.
This led to price hike negotiations, with a certain Nagamatsu serving as witness to a secret agreement that finalized the plan on June 30.
“How strange! The low-cost estimate submitted on June 19 was withheld by Ota until the 30th, while the price increase proposal submitted on July 2 was approved the very next day.”

All members of the City Council were Hoshi’s lackeys.

When the *Mainichi Shimbun* began publishing daily attack articles titled “Hoshi Toru: Archfiend of Public Theft” and urging the exercise of judicial authority, Hoshi swiftly adopted a strategy of counterattack.

Below, we present the exchange of letters between Hoshi and Mr. Shimada.

Hoshi Toru’s Letter.

Dear Shimada Saburo,

The *Mainichi Shimbun* under your stewardship has recently published a series of fabricated items, resorting to extreme language to slander me.
I have observed how many journalists in society remain unaware [of their role], lurking behind those who bear responsibility and merely ranting pointlessly in print; I have always disregarded their claims and seen no need to refute or condemn them.
However, you stand apart from such ilk, always professing moral principles and virtues, presenting yourself as a man of noble character.
Yet this time—contrary to your usual conduct—you have recklessly recorded false and irresponsible facts solely to slander me, creating the impression that your frenzied cries and violent words have nearly strayed beyond ordinary sensibilities.
I presume this must stem from some conviction you hold.

If you truly believe these defamatory facts about me exist as you claim, you must publicly affix your name and make your responsibility clear.
If reiterating the aforementioned facts proves unnecessary, then plainly show that what was previously recorded originated from your own hand.
I too, honoring your sense of responsibility, shall advance measures to demonstrate these accusations as groundless slander.
This you cannot possibly refuse, given your customary principles.
Should you nevertheless persist in self-concealment and engage in the vulgarity of heedless clamor, your professed convictions will stand exposed as mere affectation, and all you have recorded thus far revealed as nothing but unfounded calumny lacking any bedrock of belief.

Meiji 33 (1900), November 16. Hoshi Toru.

Mr. Shimada’s reply letter.

Dear Hoshi Toru,

Regarding the document sent to me under your name on the 16th [of this month], I initially suspected it might be a forgery by your subordinates misusing your name and accordingly addressed you to verify whether you had truly sent me this correspondence. You have now confirmed on the 17th that this letter indeed originated from you.

I shall now formally respond.
Before demanding accountability for the *Mainichi Shimbun* articles, I urge you to first examine your own responsibility to your conscience, then reflect upon your duties to society as a public official.

The fact that you, as a Tokyo City Council member, engaged in defiling acts has been recorded not only by the Mainichi Shimbun but by hundreds of newspapers across the capital region, voiced by forty-five million citizens of the Empire—yet none step forward to refute these falsehoods on your behalf. Why is this?
I cannot help but privately perceive your circumstances as profoundly pitiable.
If you believe any action permissible so long as it escapes legal accountability, this constitutes a grave error.
If you maintain that public crimes may be committed provided one skillfully evades the law’s net, this too constitutes a grave error.
Having studied abroad in Europe and America years past, you should know that Western societies uphold far higher social morality and impose far stricter social sanctions than Japan.
I have always striven to elevate Japan’s social morality and fortify its social sanctions; even should criminals elude the legal net through insufficient evidence, I remain resolved to resolutely expel them beyond society’s bounds.

If you possess any conscience, now as a public figure, clarify your responsibilities to society and strive to dispel the suspicions held by forty-five million citizens toward you.

I wish to instruct you that your current pressing duty lies in reflecting—before addressing others’ responsibilities—on whether you have fulfilled your own as a public figure to society.

November 17. Shimada Saburo.

The judiciary finally began to move, and Hoshi’s confidants in the city council and Board of Aldermen—individuals like a certain Toshimitsu and Nakajima—began to be imprisoned one after another.

The convocation of the Imperial Diet was approaching on December 22.
Prime Minister Ito, who had risen advocating party reform, was tormented.
On December 21, Hoshi finally resigned as Communications Minister, and Hara Takashi succeeded him.

On the afternoon of June 21, Meiji 35 (1902), Hoshi met an unnatural end in the city council chamber at the hands of the swordsman known as Iba Sotaro.

Blood washes away all sins.
Public opinion swiftly turned its head and condemned the *Mainichi Shimbun*’s inflammatory rhetoric.
Thus, the name Shimada Saburo became the terror of an era.

The Passion Invested in Universal Suffrage

Now, with the revision of election laws and expansion of suffrage, Yokohama City came to elect two Diet representatives.
Two representatives, three candidates.
First: Kato Takaaki, Mitsubishi’s representative; second: Okuda Giden, nominated by Ito Hirobumi’s Rikken Seiyukai party; and third: Shimada Saburo, standing alone.

On February 14, by making public an essay titled "To the Citizens of Yokohama," Mr. Shimada commenced his campaign.
The nation's gaze converged entirely upon Yokohama.

March 1: Election.
The total votes numbered 2,400-some.
Mr. Shimada received 1,400-some votes—so who was the other?
Okuda was elected and Kato lost.
At this time, Mr. Shimada was fifty-two years old.

In the House of Representatives on February 15, Taisho 9 (1920), Mr. Shimada, then exactly seventy years old, was in the midst of a speech on the universal suffrage bill when—

“If we ask by whom the reforms of Meiji’s early years were carried out, it was through the youth first taking action, the adults responding to them, and the elderly following suit—this is precisely why those early Meiji reforms achieved such great momentum.”
“—Facing the seniors of the early Meiji years, I feel deeply remiss toward you esteemed colleagues present in this assembly today; I must first apologize for this negligence.”

He was saying this.

“Advocating for universal suffrage is a political obligation.”

I could nod in understanding of the true intent behind Mr. Shimada’s words.
That single term—“obligation”—must have carried immeasurable weight within it.
And yet, I privately imagined that the fervor of the Meiji 36 election still lay at its core.
[*Chūō Kōron*, Showa 8, No. 5 (May 1933)]