Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

What I am about to discuss is neither a political speech nor a labor movement lecture, but rather a most unassuming discourse.
First, I wish to expound upon the theory of peasant autonomy, then proceed to discuss its practical implementation.

Theoretically, I intend to address three matters: first, the essential meaning of autonomy; second, the irrational nature of governing and political systems; third, the relationship between land and humanity—that autonomy ultimately manifests as settled agrarian life, that no autonomous system can exist without such rootedness, and that agrarian communal existence constitutes the very essence of peasant autonomy.
Regarding practical application, to elucidate both the methods for realizing this theory and the path toward it, I shall structure my discussion under two headings: societal approaches and individual approaches.

II

All living creatures on earth practice autonomy.
Not only animals, but all plants as well lead autonomous lives.

Ants live autonomous cooperative lives in communities numbering tens of thousands—even hundreds of thousands.
Among ants—as you all know—there exist those that wage wars; yet even so among their own kind they maintain a beautiful life of mutual aid.
From spring through summer they work diligently gathering ample food supplies while making winter preparations.
They build underground warehouses stored through scientific methods and use them as needed.
Among them exists both courtesy and discipline—their social system being truly admirable.
Yet when members of other colonies attack they bravely wage war.
I have indeed witnessed such wars.

It was precisely when I was in France.

The houses in France all have walls about seventy-five centimeters thick.
Our village was situated atop that sheer cliff-like height rising three hundred meters.
I lived in a house there and was engaged in farming.
During busy periods, I would work from morning until around midnight.

One night, I returned late to my room and went to bed, but feeling somehow unwell, I got up and lit the lamp—only to find something astonishing. Half of the ten-mat room had turned pitch-black with ants waging war. The sight of them fiercely biting each other was enough to make one's hair stand on end. Thinking to drive out the ants, I chopped garlic and scattered it, but they wouldn’t flee at all. The next day they continued fighting throughout; even when I tried crushing the abdomens of those biting ants, they absolutely wouldn't let go, and those being bitten kept running about while still clamped onto their enemies. However, by the next morning, the battle seemed to have ended—they all retreated without exception and neatly cleared away every last corpse. Ants maintain a social life without domination; while working in unison to secure the welfare and peace of their respective societies, they fight with true bravery when faced with danger.

Bee societies have no rulers.
On warm days, they fly far and wide—four or even eight kilometers—repeatedly collecting pollen on their leg hairs and bringing it back to store for winter survival.
In this way, everyone works diligently and there are no idlers.
However, there exist reproductive bees, but these die after fulfilling their purpose, leaving behind only worker bees and queen bees.
"The principle 'Those who do not work shall not eat' is spoken of as a new concept in human society, but has existed since ancient times in animal societies."

Evolutionists claim that humans are the most advanced beings, yet ants and bees are far more moral while humans progress toward degradation.
Particularly nowadays with those called capitalists and officials emerging, they make human society progress ever further toward degradation.
Bees store delicious honey in their hives but when attacked by other swarms fight so fiercely they spare no thought for perishing in battle.
Maeterlinck wrote a book titled *The Life of the Bee* elaborating how strong what should be called bees' patriotism or hive-love truly proves.
This from our perspective may be termed love for homeland or village.
Yet even nests defended with such desperate effort when passed to young descendants get filled with honey while protecting their queen bee before quietly departing elsewhere.
Nothing exists akin to parents-children inheritance quarrels seen in human society with declarations of "While my eyes remain black..." within their world.

Moreover, whether birds or other animals, they all maintain autonomous lives through harmonious social structures.

Not only within their own species, but some coexist communally with diverse other species.
According to records of Central American travelers, human dwellings reportedly present scenes resembling zoos.
They distinguish between residents and visitors while clearly recognizing their own homes and family members.
When strangers approach, they sound loud alarms through vigilant cries.
Furthermore, wolves and leopards grow accustomed to villagers while songbirds trill in treetops—particularly young women bond deeply with wild beasts, interpreting their psychology through ear movements and vocalizations as the animals similarly grasp human intentions.
Thus do barbarian households manifest zoological marvels, achieving communal village existence where beasts and humans cohabitate.

Regarding the autonomous life of plants, I need hardly elaborate further. In spring they bloom, in autumn they bear fruit, and through their own power bring forth beautiful fruits. Thus they gradually propagate their kind.

For seventy or eighty years, evolutionary theory has been advocated, and survival of the fittest has been proclaimed as the path of evolution.
This evolutionary theory was advanced by Wallace and Darwin; against this stands Kropotkin’s assertion that mutual aid itself constitutes the true path of civilizational progress.
In survival-of-the-fittest doctrine, it holds that the strong prevail and dominate others.
Yet domination—as fact—does not exist within animal societies.
They may seek sustenance from other groups, but in reality there exists no such act as subjugating those groups.

Now I turn to examples from plants.
When left to grow naturally, a peach tree produces many blossoms though only about one-third form small fruits.
Of these again only about one-third mature into proper fruits.
Evolutionists may attribute this to survival of the fittest yet such claims merely reflect preconceived notions.
From another perspective we might consider this less a competitive struggle than an expression of mutual aid.
Apple and pear trees follow this same pattern.

As you all know, beneath the bark of trees flows white sap.
When that sap ascends too vigorously from below to above, flowers do not bloom.
The tree merely grows larger while its leaves flourish abundantly.
If one bends that branch slightly to make it horizontal, flowers will bloom and many fruits will form.
This occurs because balance between light and sap becomes achieved.
The flowers falling at this time were not defeated in competition—rather, having bloomed abundantly to maintain harmony with sunlight before sacrificing themselves to let others bear fruit—this being how I choose to consider it.
The abundant blooming serves regulatory purposes.
In war, just as not only front-line recipients of Golden Kite Medals fulfill national defense duties—with rear units like telegraph corps, transporters and farmers performing essential tasks—so too must we consider that not solely ripened fruits fulfill missions; even fallen flowers hold purpose.
I find myself unable to endorse perspectives deeming only frontline combatants heroic while denying valor to those felled anonymously by bullets.
Yet such erroneous perceptions and distorted realities particularly arise because modern social organization has become structured around survival-of-the-fittest principles.

During the Russo-Japanese War, I was imprisoned due to a certain incident, when a guard said such a thing:
“You are the fortunate ones.”
“We work sixteen hours every day.”
“And we only get to sit down for twenty minutes every two hours—if you so much as doze off even slightly, three days’ pay gets deducted.”
“Yet you get to read like this every day.”
“You are truly fortunate,” he said, envying us.
Even as he said this, he took good care of us.
From their perspective, we were like commodities.
Even if the Minister of Justice came around on inspection, if there was the slightest mishandling in their conduct, they immediately had their pay docked.

Now, on one occasion, a directive came down from the authorities to the prison, stating, “As this is a time of war, you must enforce austerity.” Thereupon, the prison officials thoroughly deliberated, but since they could not reduce the prisoners’ food rations, they had no choice but to cut the number of guards, reducing them from one hundred fifty to one hundred. The guards endured their drowsiness and worked harder than before, but as a result, only the warden was commended, and none of the other guards received any praise whatsoever. That warden was indeed a good person. He would call me and Ōsugi, who was in the neighboring cell at the time, to his side and say, “You are admirable individuals—pioneers who have worked for society and become noble sacrifices.” And he treated us very kindly. While it was commendable that this warden received recognition, what are we to make of the fact that the guards who lamented, “We’ve never read newspapers in sunlight,” could not receive even a small benefit? It is evident that even the guards who did not receive bonuses contributed to the nation, but in a society organized under survival-of-the-fittest principles, it is inevitable that only those above receive such rewards. I believe the police officers who come here must also be well aware of this matter.

Lately in Tokyo, they say they're increasing the police force by several thousand because thieves aren't being caught, but if lower-ranking officers improve their efficiency, it's only the upper-level people who end up receiving rewards.
This is not limited solely to police stations and prisons; it is the same everywhere—in companies, schools, banks, and even rural villages.
Therefore, everyone rushes to become someone great, striving step by step to climb higher and higher.
The mentality of all people in today's world is to aspire to become a principal rather than remain a regular teacher, a department head rather than stay a police officer.

However, if one were to say that only those in higher positions have achievements, that would be incorrect. No matter how lowly their station may be, unless each person performs their respective tasks diligently, even the most stringent commands from superiors cannot produce coherent results. From today’s survival-of-the-fittest perspective, this creates distinctions between fools and the clever—yet from a human standpoint, no individual can encompass all capabilities. Even those deemed foolish possess irreplaceable traits that defy representation by others. They carry unique constitutions and natures that grant them distinctive value as individuals. To label someone as clever or foolish—a person considered astute in Country A may not hold that distinction in Country B; one deemed wise in Era B might falter in Era C—reveals the relativity of such judgments. Thus it stands: all animals and plants alike bear their own missions, just as humans do.

Let us now consider human society.
But I shall refrain from discussing modern society.
This is because it overflows with deplorable phenomena.
It concerns barbarians of antiquity who remained untouched by European civilization.

The sociologist Morgan crossed to America, studied indigenous social systems, and authored a book titled Ancient Society.
His research shows that the Iroquois people inhabiting one region of America lived through egalitarian autonomous cooperation—free from domination or governance—where all members held participatory rights.
These people each possessed decision-making authority when resolving matters.
While Japan now clamors about universal suffrage and similar reforms, this people already granted participation rights to every member.
Each village stood as an independent collective entity—never merely one cog within some greater mechanism.

During the French Revolution, they raised liberty, equality, and fraternity as slogans, but these indigenous people had already been practicing them since time immemorial. Before humankind came to be governed by erroneous ideologies and academic systems, they all lived lives of freedom and autonomy. This was true not only in America but also in Europe and Asia—all ancient societies were like this. In ancient China during the Tang Dynasty, there was a poet named Bai Juyi. This truth is often manifested in his poetry. The poem titled "Zhuchen Village" depicts a village without military or police that nevertheless thrives through autonomy and enjoys life. In the Philippines' Luzon Island as well, before being conquered as it is now, they had built a society of liberty, equality, and fraternity. There was naturally no need for police officers or such. Those respected were not people carrying weapons, but elders. This is because elders possess knowledge and experience, often assisting and guiding village life. However, the elders did not rule through authority. In civilized societies, there exist institutions like senates and privy councils where elders wield power, but no such places existed in antiquity. Yet this society was ultimately destroyed by the Americans.

Next, I considered Japan itself.
Within the myths concerning Amaterasu Ōmikami, various interpretations existed regarding Susanoo no Mikoto's actions—while sociologically they constituted a social revolution, mythologically they amounted to violence.
Due to this violence, Amaterasu Ōmikami hid within the Heavenly Rock Cave, plunging the world into darkness.
Thereupon, eight million deities convened a grand assembly and resolved to exile Susanoo no Mikoto while entreating Amaterasu Ōmikami to restore light.
Among these deities existed no hierarchy—all held equal decision-making rights without class distinctions.
They established eight grave sins during this period, yet curiously omitted crimes related to private property like theft.
I concluded this absence stemmed from their tribal communist system lacking private property concepts.
Japan's national structure as revealed in the Kojiki—our most treasured classical text—embodied precisely this.
This mirrored the Iroquois social life I had described earlier—a society without governance or domination.
These myriad deities represented what we now call the entire populace.
The populace gathered collectively for consultation.
This constituted humanity's original way of life.
Though all peoples maintained such existence since antiquity, how had domination systems emerged?
This formed a crucial question.

Therefore, I wished to herein examine how systems of domination first emerged.

The history of Babylon dates back four to five thousand years, with carvings of kings' statues found among its relics.
Before the Babylonians emerged, there existed races such as the Akkadians and Sumerians—the former inhabiting highlands and the latter plains—and their relics too contain statues of kings.
However, these statues do not show kings wearing golden crowns, but rather depict them carrying soil alongside many others.
They can only be identified as kings through their larger carved figures and accompanying inscriptions.
In that era, what was termed a "king" resembled a representative or clan head rather than a ruler in the modern sense.
These kings served simultaneously as labor leaders and working individuals themselves.
The central figure in labor was the king.
When examining statues of kings from two to six centuries later, we find them no longer hauling earth but standing among workers holding what resemble surveying instruments.

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When we considered the changes during that period, an extremely intriguing fact lay hidden.
Needless to say, in the beginning they had understood neither astronomy nor possessed any calendar.
The days gradually grew shorter; it grew colder; the weather turned gloomy day after day.
People worried about what would become of them.
In such times, there would be an experienced elder who declared, "There is nothing to worry about. Endure a few more days. Then the warm sun will come around again," thereby soothing their anxieties.
Moreover, the elder would have known the proper time to sow crop seeds, periods when wind directions shifted, or times when strong winds blew.
I believe the 210th day also came to be recognized by people in this manner.
Such elders were indispensable to village life, and it was natural for them to be respected by the villagers.
The villagers might have thought him a man of special talent or considered him someone who communed with heaven.
Therefore, the elder came to gladly refrain from sharing his experience with many villagers, transmitting it only to his descendants or those with special connections to establish it as a secret tradition.
The villagers began presenting gifts or offerings to the clan possessing the secrets, seeking to receive divine favors.
Thus, they became able to live without working, thanks to those secret traditions.
They could spend their days in leisure, devoting themselves solely to continuing their own research or immersing themselves in various other advanced academic studies.
As you are all aware, until the Tokugawa period, there had been many such secret traditions and single-lineage transmissions in fields like medicine and swordsmanship.

When such phenomena persisted, a special class naturally emerged—one that possessed privileges while simultaneously enjoying both leisure and financial means—and as their knowledge advanced, they increasingly devised things convenient for their own lives.
Knowledge that initially existed for the people later became for their own benefit; what was once respected for benefiting the people came to be revered merely for its possession; eventually, even unremarkable individuals who inherited such esoteric knowledge gained the means to exploit others, rendering it utterly meaningless.

When examining how the establishment of classes and emergence of rulers impacted social life, first came wasteful practices within economic and political structures.
Second emerged grave moral injustices, with wicked deeds coming to dominate society.
Third developed an erosion of natural beauty perception, leading people away from aesthetic existence.
Now let me elaborate on each point systematically.

First, regarding economic wastefulness.

Such things arose as a result of one entity dominating others—that is to say, as a result of survival of the fittest.
When considering international examples, Britain dominated the world's industry in spinning.
They took cotton from India back to Manchester and manufactured it into cotton cloth.
And then they took this back to India, sold it to Indians, and exploited them—this being the result of India’s conquest.
I believed that cotton produced in India should be made into cotton thread, cloth, and such by Indian hands on Indian soil for the use of Indians.
It was only natural that cotton produced in China be used for Chinese people and cotton produced in Japan for Japanese people.
Yet Japan brought cotton produced in China to its mainland, exploited Japanese female factory workers, expended vast amounts of coal, human labor, and machinery power, and then exported it.
This was the manifestation of capitalists' exploitation and desire for domination.
However, I did not think this would last long.
Recently, Indians began building factories themselves and operating them using their own machinery and technology.
The British also began building British factories in India.
The emergence of Japanese factories in China arose from the same reason.
This served as one good example, but similar instances of economic wastefulness being perpetrated were beyond counting.
Having perhaps awakened to this, nearly all of Britain’s dominions became independent autonomous nations.

Let me present a small domestic example.
To build a house was economical when using materials existing in that land and having local people construct it, but in reality this was not done.
To build a house at Tokyo’s eastern edge required carpenters coming from its western edge and materials being transported from its southern edge.
Why did this occur? Because all harbored ambitions of “I shall profit.”
This sort of wastefulness proved staggering.
Were one carpenter to waste an hour daily for this purpose fifty carpenters would produce fifty hours of waste.
Had people been truly settled and self-governing such waste could never have arisen.

Secondly，I shall discuss the loss of beauty．In the past，every village had a guild system and carried out ceremonies such as weddings and funerals cooperatively．However，as the domination system became thoroughly entrenched，people’s hearts grew corrupted，and they began striving recklessly to elevate themselves above their neighbors．The desire of today’s civilized people is to advance themselves even if it means pushing others down．Civilized people maintain expressionless faces—in other words，their countenances are ill-featured．It is because they are constantly thinking about trying to profit，advance，and win that their countenances naturally become ill-featured．When someone enters prison and is later let out，everyone in the outside world appears blurry to them．This is because in prison，prisoners and guards constantly watch for each other’s weaknesses without a moment’s respite，and whenever they have a spare moment，they either talk or plot some mischief，which naturally leads to hostile expressions forming on their faces．Country people have more serene countenances than city dwellers，and it is natural that theirs are better．

Moreover，in textiles and such matters，contemporary people considered items bought from Mitsukoshi or Matsuzakaya to be the finest，and it seemed there was no one who reflected on the beauty of handwoven fabrics.
Some years ago，upon returning from Europe after a decade’s absence，I was astonished by the vulgarly base taste evident in Japanese women’s clothing.
In the past，there had existed a profound philosophy underlying both clothing and architecture，but modern commercialism utterly destroyed it.
The philosophy of old was steadily dismantled by modern merchants，scholars，and shop clerks.
And Tokyo became the worst city.
Even among cities，Shanghai remained splendid.
That was because traditions of European civilization had been preserved there.
Therein lay an inherent philosophy.
Yet Tokyo stood as a city built solely for profit’s dominion，where no trace of beauty could be found.

In France there exists a magnificent temple called the Panthéon, where the remains of numerous national contributors are enshrined.
The remains of Jean Jaurès, the late Socialist Party figure, were also enshrined here.
This concerns the time when this temple was being constructed.
When an engineer had ingeniously designed and affixed a splendid eave, just as it neared completion through some mishap, it suddenly collapsed.
The engineer who witnessed this was shocked and lamented, ultimately dying as a result.
How admirable is the spirit of this engineer who poured such devotion into even a single eave!
What I further find remarkable is that his successor used the predecessor's design exactly as it stood, realizing it precisely according to the original plan.
Had this succeeding engineer been driven by domineering ambition, I believe he would have surely buried his predecessor's proposal to implement his own design.
This truly embodies the beautiful spirit of a master craftsman.

Last night I also asked Koyama [43], and it appears his kimono was handwoven by his mother.
The pure colors and patterns were truly splendid.
Though every rural area contains such splendid things, why do local people fail to notice this and instead seek out ugly fabrics from places like Mitsukoshi?
This clearly occurs because they are dominated by mistaken ideologies stemming from capitalism.
Yet what proves interesting is that aristocratic ladies despise those gaudily patterned fabrics, deliberately spend exorbitant sums on handwoven striped fabrics, and thereby satisfy their sense of superiority.
Were this truly born from aesthetic discernment, it would be commendable—but such is not the case.
It merely stems from their desire to feel pride in wearing something more subdued yet costly than what ordinary people wear.
The fact that their attempts to flaunt understated elegance inadvertently lead them back to rural stripes and handwoven patterns strikes me as profoundly ironic.
That bolts of cloth woven by country matrons—using no particular technique beyond striving for durability—paradoxically become aesthetic models for nobility may seem strange, yet this in truth signifies nature's triumph.
To create one's own materials, devise original designs, and weave them with one's own hands—what exquisitely valuable work that must be.

However, as I mentioned earlier, such useless and unaesthetic practices are being perpetrated in countless places everywhere, but true autonomous life consists of abolishing this misguided aesthetic existence and establishing a genuine human aesthetic life.

Thirdly, true autonomy must be thoroughly implemented within agrarian community life.

As part of this sequence, I first wish to discuss the relationship between land and humanity, but humanity has an inseparable relationship with the land.
Anatole France wrote in a certain book: "Humanity is like maggots that have emerged on the earth's surface."
Human beings are creatures born of the earth, living on the earth, and buried in the earth.
Setting aside the question of why life emerged on the earth’s surface, let us consider the fact that human beings have come into existence upon it.

Humans cannot merely be separated from the earth; they receive manifold influences from it.
When separated from the earth, true beauty, morality, and economy are all lost.

Geographically speaking, the degree to which people are governed by their environment is striking.
People from mountainous regions and those from plains differ from each other in bodily structure down to their very form.
People from mountainous regions have broader chests due to the thin air, and as they walk on slopes, their legs naturally become bent; they are generally shorter in stature.
However, people from plains develop straighter legs and taller statures.
Since this holds true physically, it naturally follows that there are manifold mental influences.
That those born in beautiful places become poetic and can become poets or painters is something well known.
I mentioned this last night as well.
Those born in Mimaki Village beneath the majestic views of Asama Mountain and Eboshidake yet fail to become poets must surely be utterly incapable individuals.
However, this is not limited to composing what we call poetry.
It suffices for one's state of mind to become poetic and enter a condition of perceiving poetry.
Those who dwell in solitary houses amidst desolate fields without complaint—working and feeding themselves—are blessed with a poet's mindset, I believe.
Yet in today's society, not only does hoping for this prove futile, but even witnessing it grows difficult.
However splendid their natural birthplace may be, people must venture to cities to eat and commute to factories.
Even those without such needs go to cities seeking profit or collaborate with urbanites to start businesses.
All lead lives turned against beauty.
Though poets of old sang of rural areas as poetic places, discovering such charm in today's countryside proves exceedingly arduous.

However, even amidst these circumstances, the fact that study meetings were being held by the Peasant Autonomy Association was because some pioneer had emerged to advocate, "Shall we not establish a beautiful life within this beauty?"—and this I believed to be splendid natural influence.
The fact that the Peasant Autonomy Association’s first study meeting could be held here made me think that the influence of this land had been working imperceptibly.

What does it amount to to amass vast fortunes in cities teeming with every manner of falsehood and wickedness—they are but fleeting illusions lasting fifty years.
When one comes to think of returning to a truly human life and manifesting humanity’s original essence, geographical influence remains indispensable.
People of hot countries and people of cold countries all receive this geographical influence.

The Eskimo people live in the snow near the Arctic.
They live in houses entirely made of snow for four or five months—their ability to consume large amounts of oil at once being astonishing, drinking about one shō at a time and remaining unfazed even after fasting for around a week.
Since they constantly catch and eat fur seals, it is interesting that their faces resemble those of fur seals.
Europeans say Bakuro have faces resembling horses.
Furthermore, in southern Africa there lives a tribe called the Denka; nearby there are marshlands where many herons dwell. It is said that the Denka people, holding a tool called a yasu to catch fish while standing on one leg at the marsh’s edge, closely resemble herons.
They were all influenced by their environment.

In regions abundant in stone there were many stonemasons, and in regions rich in wood there were numerous woodworkers.
In the West, many stonemasons worked to build houses, while in Japan there were many carpenters—this resulted from each country’s geographical influences.
In the West, they began by constructing the walls of a house, but in Japan they built the roof first.
Moreover, in the West people had since ancient times carved human portraits into stone, whereas in Japan they carved them into wood.
Depending on the region, everything differed—from methods of house construction to the production of artisanal crafts.
Humans cannot separate even a single aspect of their various technologies and economic lives from the land.
It is in adapting to this land, loving the land, and drawing upon the spirit of the earth that local spirit arises, and it is there that local art and local literature develop.
And this local essence is what is most beautiful, wholesome, and true for humanity.
It is the spirit of peasant autonomy that truly develops this local essence.

Some might worry that emphasizing regional particularities and cultivating local spirit would fragment society—yet only through synthesizing these local essences into an organic whole could a proper society take form.
Were all people and regions mechanically uniform, Japan would become a truly insipid nation.
A country manifests its authentic significance precisely by recognizing each region’s distinct character and orchestrating their synthesis.
Genuine nationalism cannot exist without being rooted in authentic local autonomy.
Simultaneously, true nationalism constitutes true cosmopolitanism.
To forge a world serving as fertile ground for authentically human existence—this alone embodies genuine nationalism.

The culture of Country A and that of Country B differed fundamentally.
It was only through their reciprocal existence that mutual value emerged.
I myself came to comprehend Japan as a nation solely after journeying through European lands.
In isolation, nothing could be understood nor true culture forged.
This held equally true whether considering individuals or entire village households.
Only by departing one's native village did its social standing and culture become fully apparent.
This mirrored how one's own form becomes discernible solely through a looking glass.

The development of true local spirit constituted true nationalism, and true nationalism would align with true cosmopolitanism.
Were nationalism not of the sort currently proclaimed but rather a nationalism grounded in local spirit, one could scarcely imagine how comfortingly habitable that native soil might become.

The above was my explanation of how humans are governed by geographical circumstances; next, I wished to consider matters from the perspective of historical circumstances.

We are governed both by the geographical entity called Japan and by historical circumstances.

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Historically speaking, those national societies that possessed a more intense spirit of geographical rootedness proved all the more robust.
Thus should peasant autonomy associations advocating this spirit of rootedness flourish, they would directly foster Japanese society's wholesome development.

Take Greece for instance.
The culture initiated by colonists who descended from plateaus to settle in Sparta and Aden blossomed into Greek civilization.
They implemented land equalization which became individual property holdings, giving rise to land affection and thereby nurturing vigorous geographical rootedness.
Only through this rootedness could Greek culture's flower bloom.
Yet when Greeks later grew to disdain settled life, Rome ultimately destroyed them.

While Greece had communist ideas advocated by nobles among others, it was land equalization rather than those ideas that formed the foundation for that radiant cultural flowering.

Montesquieu, the French scholar who advocated the separation of powers, had ideas that exerted significant influence on Japan's Meiji reforms.
And among his works was one titled The Rise and Fall of Rome.
In it he wrote: "The Romans were a small race.
It was due to the vigor of their spirit of geographical rootedness that they came to rule over vast territories."
According to today’s scholars, no nation can sustain itself if it maintains a military force exceeding one percent of its population.
However, Rome maintained a military force exceeding one-eighth of its population.
This was possible because Rome distributed land equally to soldiers.
As so-called settled soldiers who fought desperately to protect their own land, they were strong.
As Roman civilization flourished however, merchants and artisans came to despise the spirit of geographical rootedness while nobles gathered in cities and sank into decadent lifestyles.
When barbarians attacked them and they finally perished, closer examination reveals it was not barbarians who destroyed Rome—it was the Romans themselves.
It was Romans who had succumbed to urbanism.
Japan too will perish if it continues on its current path.

[Manuscript ends here.]