Pathway to Japanese Literature

Japan's True Form

“Having just received an introduction from Mr. Gotō, I must say I feel rather ticklish under this exceedingly excessive praise.”
“However, as the saying goes, ‘There’s nothing delicious among famous specialties,’ so whether I can deliver remarks worthy of the gracious introduction—I find myself sorely lacking in confidence.”
“This evening, I wish to speak about Japan’s true form.”
“In the words of Greek philosophers, it is said that the foremost duty of man is to know oneself.”
“I find this to be truly an apt maxim.”
“In the same way, I believe that the Japanese people must come to know Japan itself.”
“However, knowledge about Japan remains extremely meager; even we who live in Tokyo do not fully understand how the entire city functions.”
“In reality, we only know the three houses across and the two neighbors next door.”
“As for the rest, it is merely pieced together through wind-borne rumors and newspaper accounts that we imagine to be true.”
“People say various things about Japan, but in truth, it is highly questionable how many truly understand it.”
“Therefore, we must first attempt to depict Japan.”
“The mirrors with which to depict it are exceedingly scarce.”
“The so-called copper pheasant’s distorted mirror—this foolish bird, believing its own body to be exceedingly beautiful, approached a river to behold its reflection; while marveling ‘Ah, what a splendid bird I am!’ it became entranced by its own image, tumbled into the water, and perished.”
“I call this the copper pheasant’s distorted mirror.”
“When it comes to mirrors that depict Japan, it is not that there are none of the copper pheasant’s distorted variety; and even among those who possess proper mirrors, such mirrors may capture only the eyes or the nose—merely partial aspects—so I believe those equipped with a large six-foot polished glass plate capable of reflecting Japan in full are exceedingly few.”
“Therefore, I wish to research what Japan’s true form actually consists of.”

“I believe there are three perspectives on Japan.”
“First: Japan as seen by foreigners. However skilled a Western oil painter may be, when they depict a Japanese face, they create a strange visage—eyes slanted upward, teeth protruding, hair standing stiff like palm fronds. They don’t intend to draw caricature-like faces, yet this is how Japanese people appear when rendered by Western hands.”
“As such cases show, Japan too tends to be easily misunderstood when viewed by Westerners.”
“Secondly, the Japanese themselves are mistaken.”
“When they speak of modern civilization, this is all borrowed from Westerners.”
“Had there been no West, Japan would not have developed.”
“This is thought by people who have returned from the West and engage in new scholarship.”
“The third is what might be called a fanatical argument: that our nation is a divine realm fundamentally distinct from all others—a nation guided by the gods, thus inherently different in essence from foreign lands.”
“I believe these three exist; however, I consider them to be fundamentally mistaken.”
“As for why foreigners err—Japan was compelled by America’s Perry in the sixth year of Kaei [1853] to reluctantly open the country, yet some forty-odd years later, around the thirtieth year of Meiji [1897], it had become a splendidly modernized Japan.”
“In Western nations, breaking free from the feudal era to become modern states took as long as three hundred years, with even the shortest cases requiring a hundred and fifty years.”
“Yet Japan forged modern Japan in merely forty to fifty years.”
“It’s mysterious! It’s a miracle! What could this mean? This is truly a significant problem.”
The first to raise doubts about this was the French scholar Auguste Comte, the man who propounded the theory of crowd psychology.
This was because many French military personnel in recent years had emerged from Comte’s school—men who participated in the European Great War, possessed patriotism, and were philosophers as well.
This Comte, some twenty-odd years ago, expressed astonishment to Mr. Motono Ichirō, who was then our ambassador, saying that Japan’s emergence was mysterious—that it had become a modern nation in merely forty to fifty years.
Its manner was precisely like a comet blazing brilliantly across the celestial sphere, astonishing the world.
However, the comet’s fate held the destiny of soon vanishing beyond the horizon.
“The notion that a country such as Japan could become a modern state in forty to fifty years does not align with the laws of evolution.”
He posed the question of whether it might share the fate of a comet.

“When Mr. Motono responded by stating, ‘Our nation was not built in forty or fifty years; it is a people forged over two thousand five hundred years through steady, step-by-step progress,’ Comte retorted: ‘No—every country has a history spanning thousands of years.’”
“However, when one reads Japanese history, it mostly consists of daimyo wars and court nobles’ schemes; there is nothing else recorded beyond this.”
“They cannot comprehend how Japan achieved such rapid progress.”
“‘If you claim that over two thousand five hundred years [Japan] achieved progress through steady strides,’ he proposed, ‘why not write about it from your perspective?’ With that challenge accepted—‘Very well, I shall write from Japan’s standpoint’—Motono returned and urged me: ‘As my friend, you are the most suitable person for this task.’”
It was upon this foundation that I wrote *Japanese Economic History*.
This applies not only to Comte.
Even scholars who appear to understand Japan harbor doubts as to how it transformed thus in mere decades.
“However, the very notion that Japan became a modern state in forty to fifty years is fundamentally mistaken.”
They seem convinced Japan possessed almost nothing resembling civilization before European contact.
From this root spring manifold errors.”
“I wish to address this matter directly.”

“This tendency exists in every nation—Westerners are particularly prone to it, but Japan too cannot escape this affliction. People fail to recognize that while a country’s history belongs to itself, there exists a universal dimension wherein every nation’s history forms part of world history. Even Japan, which considers itself unique, constitutes but one fragment of this global narrative.”

“As you are all aware, every nation initially built its economy upon slavery as the foundation.”
“Slavery constitutes labor—that is to say, labor power itself.”
There existed slaves captured from neighboring villages, those taken through warfare, and those born into bondage via judicial punishment.
“Though slave origins varied fundamentally, without slaves there would have been no labor force—thus economies were necessarily slavery-based.”
Our nation too began as a slave economy.
“You may presume Japan lacked significant slave populations, yet European history from Spartacus’ Servile Wars onward chronicles medieval conflicts between slaves and free citizens.”
Japan followed this pattern—the Nara period represented a pure slave economy.
In Nara stands the Shosoin Repository, an imperial treasury housing scattered fragments of ancient household registers from bygone census records.
Examining these fragments reveals meticulous registrations listing masters’ ages, wives’ ages, male slaves’ ages, and female slaves’ ages—all systematically recorded.
Though incomplete, we may deduce from them that affluent households invariably maintained three or four slaves each.
When Prince Shōtoku waged war against the Soga clan, their forces included some four to five hundred slaves.
Thus was the entire economic structure founded upon slavery.
This system persisted until the Nara period’s conclusion.
The Taiho Code explicitly codified slavery—establishing slaves as a distinct social class where intermarriage with commoners was prohibited. Should a slave woman bear a commoner’s child, however, that child would be recognized as freeborn.
Conversely, an extremely restrictive law mandated that children born to male slaves and commoner women would inherit slave status.

However, while slaves still existed, the Taiho Code—the legal system established to complete the Taika Reforms—nationalized all land under heaven, prohibited powerful clans from holding vast territories, and implemented comprehensive redistribution: commoners received two tan per person, wives one and a half tan, children a fraction thereof, and slaves were likewise granted fields at a fractional rate. Thus providing both protections and restrictions.
These circumstances gradually continued until the end of the Nara period, though England too maintained a proper slave system during this same era—one that persisted until the thirteenth century.
The Taiho Code refers to legislation enacted during the Taiho era, corresponding to 800 CE—the eighth century in Western reckoning.
This code divided all people under heaven into two categories: slaves and commoners.
Commoners were further classified into three tiers.
The first tier comprised commoners possessing thirty kanmon of currency.
Third-tier commoners were those holding one kanmon of currency.
When currency proved unavailable, rice or slaves could be converted into monetary value.
The code stipulated that one slave equated to six hundred mon.
Possession of one and a half slaves qualified one as a third-tier commoner.
Through such measures, a fully-fledged slave system had been established.
Yet while nations like England maintained slave economies until the thirteenth century, Japan saw this system vanish by the late ninth and early tenth centuries of the Western calendar.
This transition occurred through natural progression—the slave economy alone proving unsustainable, thereby giving rise to a land-based economy.
During the slave era, abundant land and sparse population allowed unrestricted territorial claims.
However, lacking sufficient cultivation labor, people gathered slaves to work the land—thus establishing the slave economy.
By Japan's tenth century CE—marking the Nara period's end and Heian period's dawn—the population had substantially increased, with cultivated land spreading everywhere.
Consequently, powerful clans and high officials began demarcating already cultivated territories as their domains, making land acquisition society's new aspiration over slave ownership.
These clans sought maximum landholdings—sources of vegetables, crops, and tributes—thereby birthing an economy founded on land control.
In England during this same period, dwindling slave numbers saw manor houses emerge.
These Manor Houses resembled Japan's manorial estates.

They were precursors to the feudal system—referred to as “manor land” and termed “estate land.” Nobles and powerful clans designated various territories as their own, establishing taxation over resident populations as their foundation. Through this process, slaves gradually diminished while land acquisition practices expanded, ultimately giving rise to an economy rooted in land ownership.

“In Japan—as you all surely know—there existed manors. Their origins trace back to the following circumstances.”

During the Taika Reforms, authorities decided to divide national lands among commoners at two tan per person—a policy directly transplanted from Chinese legal codes. At that time, students and monks traveled to China for study. China then flourished under Emperor Taizong of Tang’s reign.

The returning students, having observed Tang Dynasty institutions that restricted land monopolization by powerful clans—which they believed embodied absolute truth and national salvation—translated Sui and Tang legal codes verbatim for Japanese application.

This led to land redistribution policies divorced from Japan’s actual conditions. As these conflicted with natural societal trends, what began as annual land reallocations gradually stretched—first to triennial cycles, then quinquennial, decennial, and eventually sporadic sixty-year intervals—until redistribution ceased entirely.

With population growth and expanded cultivation, court nobles and high-ranking officials developed intense desires for land ownership, which they subsequently codified into law.

The mechanism was thus: temples and shrines—permitted extensive landholdings as previously mentioned—were exempt from dividing properties among peasants. Since lands held by deities belonged to religious institutions, officials were barred from entry or tax collection.

Shrines employed laborers while temples utilized slaves for intensive cultivation, amassing wealth through rice yields. Observing this, imperial officials emulated religious institutions by demarcating lands as “manors”—declaring them private estates essential to their needs.

They petitioned the court for equivalent tax exemptions granted to temple/shrine lands. However, this “imperial court” being nobility-controlled meant any influential aristocrat’s request received immediate approval. Manors proliferated rapidly across the realm.

The Konoe family—ancestors of the current Prime Minister Konoe—held three Kyushu provinces (Hyūga, Satsuma, Ōsumi) as manors. The Shimazu served merely as estate managers.

The Konoe family’s annual income comprised one bundle of gold and twenty hawk feathers—the latter used for bowmaking.

They obtained income measured by quantities of horses and maintained corresponding tracts of land.
As for who actually reaped the profits—it was those managing the manors.
Given these mechanics, manors proved an exceptionally advantageous institution.
Powerful clans competed fiercely to establish them.
Even nobles' concubines came to hold manors through this frenzied authorization process.
What emerged from this?—Public fields—state-owned lands where local officials could levy taxes—were surpassed in number by manors.
Though sustained by public field taxes initially, these dwindled until fully replaced by manors.
Slaves previously bound to public field cultivation under official jurisdiction found refuge in manors offering exemption from forced labor—vanishing into these estates until untraceable.
Over centuries some were captured or killed mid-flight until finally dissolving like water through sand.
Thus fortified through absorption of human capital and resources did manors ascend.
England’s manor lands followed identical patterns.
As masses flooded these domains escaping royal corvée obligations chattel slavery evaporated unnoticed.
While constituting unlawful seizure of imperial lands from one angle I deem their role in eradicating slavery a redeeming historical consequence.

In this manner, manors came into being. These manors, which until now had been merely connected to fields and rice paddies, now housed officials and managers. To collect taxes and perform other tasks, officials were necessary. When large numbers of people gathered, thieves would emerge; therefore, to prevent theft and oversee tax collection, something akin to district offices naturally arose within the manors. The owners resided in Kyoto. Only offices where branch managers resided were established. At these offices, to naturally prevent theft or for officials to assert their authority, something akin to a local government gradually emerged there. Thus, to serve the local government officials, sundries shops and weaving workshops would emerge—this being how towns formed. Thus, an economic center would emerge there, and merely collecting hawk feathers from manors no longer sufficed. Merely collecting rice and miso became insufficient; as the need to purchase goods emerged, the monetary system finally took root there. Increasingly, transactions came to be conducted with currency, making manors the birthplace of the monetary system. Thus, whereas until now there had been abundant land under heaven, it had all been divided into manors, leaving no surplus. Since land that anyone could claim had disappeared, those who possessed abundant currency now came to hold power, and thus the monetary system emerged. Thus first came the slave economy, next the land economy, then the monetary economy. That is to say, in every nation one examines, the order progresses as follows: first a slave economy, second a land economy, and third a monetary economy. This is a universal pattern from which no nation in the world deviates. Japan is no exception to this universal pattern. It follows precisely the same course as Western history. Of course, all humans have two eyes, one mouth, a nose, and two ears—these are fixed—but due to differences in blood composition, their facial shapes vary considerably. Just as the organs humans possess are identical yet form millions of distinct faces when combined, so too do all nations share identical historical processes and origins while developing separate manifestations. Thus though common to all nations, they are not identical. Just as oranges from Jiangnan become trifoliate oranges when taken north of the river—their forms changing with the land while their essential nature remains unchanged.

However, Westerners—unaware that Japan had undergone processes common to all nations—suddenly arrived in Japan, marveled at how this semi-developed nation transformed into the modern nation-state of Japan within fifty years, and claimed this question defied explanation—but there was nothing inexplicable about it.
Japan had undergone precisely the same processes as Western nations.

I will mention another similar point: from these manors emerged what we call lord-vassal relationships.
As I have just explained, the manors were held by Kyoto court nobles and powerful clans. However, even these Kyoto nobles gradually found themselves unable to sustain their livelihoods, and the powerful clans increasingly preferred relocating to the provinces rather than remaining in cramped Kyoto—desiring to live freely on their own lands. Thus, they dispersed to regional areas, later becoming the Minamoto and Taira clans.
Due to the excessive proliferation of manors, His Majesty Emperor Go-Sanjō—recognizing that manors were the root of various evils, that converting lands held by the imperial court into manors and thereby reducing the taxes due to the court was unlawful—came to consider confiscating all manors.
However, it was decided that manors possessing proper authorization documents from the imperial court would be permitted, while those lacking such documents would be confiscated.
Those possessing authorization documents numbered only a hundred or two hundred.
Since they all stamped blind seals and arbitrarily established manors in rapid succession, those who had ever received authorization documents for manors from the imperial court—whether in antiquity or today—simply did not exist.
Therefore, in the eight provinces of Kantō—the eight provinces centered around present-day Tokyo—the manor holders in this area began to cause a great commotion.
Ladies and gentlemen, there is a person named Hatakeyama Shōji Shigetada, whom you are familiar with from history and plays. The title "Shōji" refers to someone overseeing the manors in that region.
That is to say, they were managers of the manors.
They were all samurai.

If Emperor Go-Sanjō intended to confiscate the manors, they had to devise some method.
Minamoto no Yoshiie and Yoriiye had subdued the northeast, returning after enduring the Former Nine Years’ War and Later Three Years’ War; having achieved illustrious military feats, their martial reputation resounded throughout the land.
This precisely resembled the army that had returned to our country after concluding the Manchurian Incident.
If they were to dedicate their manors to Minamoto no Yoshiie and declare them Minamoto clan property, they reasoned Emperor Go-Sanjō—deterred by military might—would likely refrain from confiscation.
Though that era lacked newspapers or politicians, these rural samurai of the Eight Provinces of Kantō devised an ingenious scheme.
When they told Yoshiie, “We of the Eight Provinces wish to dedicate all manors to the Minamoto clan—pray accept them,” he consented and took possession.
Thus did the Eight Provinces of Kantō become Minamoto territory overnight, the manors remaining intact as imperial forces could not oppose their military strength.
As previously explained, manors initially had been controlled from distances of two to three hundred ri by Kyoto nobles and clans, but as their progeny multiplied and settled locally, these estates gradually transformed into military centers.
Ultimately, with manors warring against manors, cultivating military forces became imperative.
Until then, a vast gulf had separated imperial court and subjects—sovereign and people remained estranged despite their hierarchical bond.
However, manor holders—whether in Musashi or Kazusa—settled their lands, training peasants into soldiers: rewarding merit, executing transgressors, wielding both benevolence and authority until natural lord-vassal bonds emerged between local lords and manor inhabitants.
Obedience bringing praise through achievement bred contentment.
“Wrongdoing invites execution—such terror,” they said, giving rise to what we term the lord-vassal relationship.
As decades passed, these bonds deepened into camaraderie demanding death in service of one’s lord—from which a moral code emerged.
There exists a Western adage: “Light springs from clashing flint; morality from war.”
In those days of perpetual skirmishes—when Taira no Masakado and Nasu no Yoichi roamed—there arose through minor conflicts a morality of unity in battle and loyalty to lords; a code forbidding defiance of masters’ commands; battlefield ethics demanding honorable combat over base tactics—what English terms a Code of Honor, Japanese calls battlefield decorum: principles mandating glorious victory through fair means over seizing enemies’ legs or cowardly stratagems. These became Bushido’s foundation.
“In our land,” he continued, “people proclaim Bushido uniquely Japanese—yet West shares it fully.”
In the West, ladies and gentlemen—as you well know—exist what are termed knights or chivalry.
This constitutes what we call translating it as “knight.”

“What constitutes chivalry? It developed through serving nobles—kneeling before noblewomen in reverence and protecting women—a role gradually elevated until it ultimately transformed into the gentlemanly conduct of the gentry.”
This chivalry shared with Japan’s Bushido an institution called knighthood, wherein those who performed distinguished deeds on the battlefield would have the king strike their backs three times with the flat of his sword—this being how honor was bestowed.
Those who received this honor were highly praised by society, and through such recognition and authority, the moral code of chivalry became established. However, the scholar Ruskin declared: “What is chivalry? It means being content with a single sword, a good horse, and just enough provisions for a day, then fighting for the public good.” Japan’s Bushido aligns perfectly with this principle—when saving money over ten years, what did they purchase? They purchased fine steeds.
When one received a magnificent gift from their lord—what became of it? They acquired a Masamune blade—demonstrating that dedicating all one’s resources to a single sword or horse remains a universal truth across East and West, past and present.
In the West, this is termed chivalry.
“Chivalry refers to what are called coats of arms—insignia affixed to military uniforms.”
These are comparable to the family crests of Japanese samurai.
To be sure, even rickshaw pullers in Tokyo now bear family crests—but this pertains to modern times. In antiquity, such emblems were privileges reserved solely for proper samurai.
Western coats of arms and Japanese family crests are fundamentally identical in nature.
The act of self-restraint through Bushido to devote oneself to public service and one’s lord is not unique to Japan—it constitutes a universal practice.

Though the discussion has digressed slightly, in this manner, the histories of all nations share fundamental commonalities.
When Westerners laughed, it did not mean Japan was weeping.
Japan grieved as Westerners grieved, raged as Westerners raged, and rejoiced as Westerners rejoiced throughout 2,500 years—the only difference being that when Westerners arrived, civilizational forms differed.
Westerners speak as if Japan's civilization first emerged through contact with the West.
There are even those in Japan who believe this.
This is mistaken—Japan already possessed an advanced civilization before European contact.
The Taika Reforms I mentioned earlier dated back to 650 CE.
At that time, due to limited iron availability for agriculture, two hoe types were used—iron-forged and wooden.
Yet seventy to eighty years later, wooden hoes had entirely vanished, with only iron hoes remaining in use.
In 700 CE, the first year of the Taihō era, Emperor Monmu bestowed gifts upon Abe no Omi, Minister of the Right.
Historical records state he granted five hundred bolts of silk, four hundred skeins of silk thread, and ten thousand iron hoes.
The conferral of ten thousand iron hoes reveals the scale of productive capacity existing then.
At that time, only areas near the capital exclusively used iron hoes.
If one visited rural regions, I believe wooden hoes were still mixed in use; however, upon practical comparison recognizing iron's superiority over wood, people maximized iron hoe usage until complete replacement occurred within a set period.
Yet when examining England's case around the 10th century, they still employed wooden hoes.
Japan's agricultural conditions were markedly more advanced.
Though this concerns merely a single tool type, hoe production signified existing iron extraction technology.
Most material involved was iron sand.
This indicates established techniques for smelting iron sand into metal goods.
Such technology could not be achieved by one or two individuals alone—it required becoming common practice throughout society.

Such was the level of civilization that had existed. During the Taihō Code era I mentioned earlier, noble houses roofed their residences with splendid tiles. What we now call gold lacquer already existed in the Taihō era. There exists what is termed openwork weaving—a type of twill fabric visible through to the other side. Though this is an exceptionally intricate textile, such openwork fabrics were already being produced during the Taihō era. The Great Buddha of Nara—though later modified—stands as a gilt-bronze statue measuring sixteen shaku in height, crafted from an alloy of gold and copper; however, creating such gilt-bronze Buddhas involved more than mere casting. The technological capacity to devise production plans and prepare original designs had already been established. This represents but a single example among many.

In the West, there exists what is called Justinian’s Law—an exemplary work among legal codes past and present, hailed as the most towering peak in Western history. That Justinian’s Code is said to be the highest peak among Western legal codes. That code was promulgated in 529 CE in the West, whereas our country’s Taihō Code came about approximately 170 years later. The Taihō Code was a remarkable constitution—while Prince Shōtoku’s Constitution speaks merely of morality, the Taihō Code was an exceptional document that prescribed everything: the organization of government, the slave system, commercial systems, prison systems, and all methods of transportation. This code did adopt Chinese law extensively, but there existed scholars and politicians with minds capable of creating such an exemplary legal system. Since it had already been developed to such an advanced degree, the notion that Japan only became a proper nation after receiving civilization from Europe—emerging from a semi-developed state—is a misconception.

To provide another example: as I have just mentioned, when the West entered the monetary economy era and its economic structures underwent various changes, the center of these economic structures for several hundred years was what we call guilds—trade associations. We look at these guilds and think, “Ah, indeed Western merchants devised splendid systems,” yet unbeknownst to us, Japan had already developed *za* organizations—which were precisely a form of guild.

“What are *za*? They are Kinza and Ginza—when you pass through Ningyocho, there is a place called Kinza.”

That is called Kinza because it is the site where there was a gold mint for producing gold coins.

What we call guilds are licensed trades.

Thus, in our country too—as it transitioned into a monetary economy—various systems emerged; among these counterparts to those in the West were what we call guilds.

Guilds are entities where those in the same trade unite and pay something like tribute to the government.

When they had operated for hundreds of years or had continued from their parents’ generation—with various rationales—and once the government recognized them as guilds, they did not permit outside competition.

For silk, there is the Silk Guild; for those handling salt, the Salt Guild; and if you go to Kamakura, you would pass through a place called Zaimokuza—that is where lumber merchants gathered as licensed traders with government approval.

This guild system gradually expanded, and in the Otsu area near Kyoto, there came to be something called the Horse Guild.

That is, horses used for transporting goods.

Those horses came to be such that Otsu was the center of Japan’s Horse Guild, and one could not handle horses without obtaining permission from the Otsu Guild.

These were the so-called licensed traders.

The most prominent example is Yawata Shrine in Yamazaki, Kyoto—a place deeply rooted in imperial tradition—where oil lamps are offered to Lord Hachiman using perilla oil.

When we ask where perilla oil originates, it comes from Harima Province.

Perilla oil is procured from Harima Province and offered as oil lamps to the deity of Yamazaki.

The priest of Yamazaki managed this.

At this juncture, economic principles came into play: while taxes were collected from boats ascending the Yodo River at that time, since perilla oil was oil offered to the deity, they argued that no taxes could be levied on it. By demanding complete exemption, this was again recognized by the authorities.

Thus, the priest of Yamazaki was not only a man but also had a wife and children, so their children gradually increased in number. As their numbers grew, they could no longer remain in the Yamazaki household; consequently, they relocated to Kyoto and became townsfolk.

When they became townsfolk, since the patent rights for this perilla oil were held by the priest of Yamazaki, it was argued that children born from the priest’s lineage should also inherit these rights. Thus, as those priestly descendants scattered throughout Kyoto came to possess the perilla oil patent rights, it became established that no one outside this guild could sell oil in Kyoto.

Then there were the priests of Onomiya Shrine, who held the patent rights for *koji*—as *koji* originated from those who served the deity of Ono—and thus even children born to these Onomiya priests retained their patent rights upon moving to Kyoto. In this manner, various guilds proliferated extensively throughout Kyoto.

Some emerged from above, but others arose from below. Thus these systems became government-sanctioned, with guilds based on established customs forming until commerce became impossible without guild membership. When we examine European municipalities, they all centered around guild merchants—these municipalities being a type of village or town. Within them, those managing guilds became influential figures wielding connections and financial power. They formed the core of so-called popular self-government—nominally autonomous yet actually governed by local powerholders. The upper authorities did not act; those exercising power below implemented policies. Yet Kyoto under identical conditions had Kamigyō and Shimogyō districts. During the mid-Ashikaga period, Kamigyō and Shimogyō once waged war against each other. At the heart of both districts were guild merchants who instigated this warfare. Though we no longer call Kamigyō and Shimogyō municipalities today, in that era they functioned as self-governing entities with guilds at their core—their declaration of war meaning literal combat. In this aspect they paralleled Western guilds: just as European guilds originated from Christian rituals rooted in divinity, Japan's guilds too arose from divine origins through shrine affiliations. The degree of alignment proves truly remarkable. Through this lens, Japan's history constitutes an integral part of world history alongside Europe's—possessing differences yet fundamental commonalities. Geologists tell us Earth's strata show identical composition across continents when examined in cross-section—such-and-such soil from tens of millennia ago matching layer for layer worldwide—though in places seismic shifts have overturned these sequences. History follows this pattern: a cross-sectional view reveals shared foundations between West and Japan—first slave economies, then land economies, followed by monetary economies birthing economic structures and guild systems through identical processes. Political revolutions and foreign relations introduced localized variations during these phases, yet historical cross-sections remain broadly analogous.

Then in Europe during the mid-8th century—around 720—Pope Leo III the Isaurian of the Eastern Roman Empire issued an edict prohibiting idols and launched a movement to completely eradicate other sects.
This was what is termed the standardization of religion—he enforced this standardization.
Then came various cruel acts.
In Japan, however, around roughly the same period, there appeared a monk named Gyōki—a man of exceptional learning and remarkable character.
At that time, while all monks served the imperial court—wearing purple robes and flaunting court ranks—Gyōki alone refused such service.
He wandered beneath trees, through mountains, and along field edges, soliciting alms while spreading Buddhist teachings.
This practice came to be seen as the merging of Shinto and Buddhism.
"The Buddha is no exception—Dainichi Nyorai is none other than Amaterasu Ōmikami."
Though their manifestations differ," he proclaimed, advancing the theory of shared origins while seeking to unify Shinto and Buddhism.
Over centuries, this evolved into full syncretism—Buddhist deities inhabiting Shinto shrines, Shinto kami residing in Buddhist temples. Yet whereas Pope Leo III had unified religions through eradicating opposition by force, Gyōki achieved unification without destruction—asserting that Amaterasu Ōmikami and Dainichi Nyorai were one, thereby initiating this synthesis.
The outcomes differed, but the fundamental concept of religious unification remained identical.

Then in Japan in recent years, the concept of free trade had come to be advocated.
In such a regulated era, even free trade appeared to have reached an impasse; yet free trade itself remained a splendid truth under ordinary global conditions.
However, since countries built walls, imposed heavy taxes, implemented quotas, and enacted prohibitions—engaging in such practices—free trade was not conducted; but I believed that should global conditions change, free trade would indeed prevail.
The philosophy of free trade was something we had learned from Western scholars; however, in fact, free trade had already existed in Japan before scholars even proposed their theories.
As I had just explained, commerce became entirely the exclusive domain of guilds—reaching a state where only licensed merchants could engage in trade—leading to rampant abuses; the guild merchants of Kyoto and Ōtsu seized complete control of all roads from Kyoto to Ise.
Unless one was a member of the guild merchants, they could not pass through that area with goods.
Furthermore, since there were merchants who did not belong to the guilds, in cases where they wished to pass through, authorities established a system where those merchants would pay taxes to transport their goods, resulting in the guilds coming to dominate the entire realm.
Throughout Japan, guild organizations had splendidly come into being.
The abuses had become so severe that merchants outside the guilds began voicing their intense grievances, calling for commerce to be made free.
“When we speak philosophically of free trade or political freedom,” I continued, “it was Oda Nobunaga who represented the voices demanding, ‘Since commerce cannot be conducted under these constraints, allow us to trade freely.’ Though history chiefly remembers Nobunaga for burning Mount Hiei or committing cruelties against Akechi Mitsuhide, he was in fact an exceptional statesman who declared, ‘It is improper for guilds to monopolize the realm; merchants must rightfully engage in commerce freely,’ and thus under his administration, guilds were abolished wherever his authority reached.”
Since Hideyoshi was Nobunaga’s disciple, he believed in this theory and prohibited all guilds.
When he went on the Kyushu Campaign, first arriving in Hakata, he erected a large banner and issued the proclamation: “No guilds shall exist here.”
This marked the origin of domestic free trade in Japan.
This theory then came to be applied to foreign trade as well.
This was not only a hardship for merchants but also, through practical experience, had come to be recognized as something that would benefit the realm if made free.
In Japan, it seemed that practitioners preceded scholars.
At that time, ships entering ports were invariably taxed there; however, through centuries of experience, they came to realize that if no taxes were levied, many ships would gather—and if many gathered, the port would prosper—thus conceiving the idea of Rakutsū.
“Rakutsū means a tax-free free port.”
Rakutsū was none other than a free port.
Then they established markets to conduct commerce, and names like Yokkaichi remain in Nihonbashi.

"That refers to establishing markets every fourth day. They did not maintain permanent shops as we do today, but would travel from distant places to open markets and conduct commerce on the third or fourth day of each month. These markets became prime targets for daimyōs; when a market was opened, retainers would go there to seize necessary goods and demand tax payments. However, through years of experience, they found that seizing goods or levying taxes prevented people from gathering. 'Why not abandon control and let things run freely?' Since townspeople advocated this approach, authorities permitted it and named the system Rakuichi. This is what we call a free market. When implemented, crowds flocked in droves. Indeed, this proved optimal. When people gathered numerously, towns prospered; when towns prospered, they could pay taxes to daimyōs—thus emerged the Rakuichi and Rakutsū movements. Nobunaga adopted these theories, implemented them, and Hideyoshi subsequently refined them. Now then, as you know, Tokugawa Ieyasu emerged following Hideyoshi. He maintained Hideyoshi's conviction that commerce must remain free. Genna 2—1660 AD by Western reckoning, over two decades after Ieyasu's ascension—saw a ship captain named Yaichirō granted a trade charter for Annam. However, this permission came with an instructional directive: 'In all commercial matters, through abundance and scarcity alike, benefit both others and oneself—not profiting through others' detriment. Those sharing benefits grow great though small; those withholding dwindle though large. Though foreign customs differ from ours, natural principles remain universal. Remember commonalities without marveling at differences; practice no deceit. Though others may remain unaware, how could we ignore this knowledge? When encountering benevolent persons abroad, revere them as parental mentors—inquire of their laws and follow their customs...' Such was the directive issued. What Britain terms liberalism—where companies monopolized East Indies trade until others demanded participation—originated their free trade concept. Yet when a national government instructed merchants that 'trade means mutual benefit through self-interest without harming others,' Tokugawa Ieyasu likely pioneered this principle in world history. The Confucian scholar Hayashi Razan drafted this text. While one might expect Confucians to harp on filial piety alone, their sound reasoning shaping government policies shows scholars' true worth."

As demonstrated above, Japan had already developed an advanced civilization prior to establishing relations with America.
The reason this took a form divergent from Western models lies squarely with the Tokugawa clan's grave miscalculations.
Had Japan progressed naturally through its slave economy into land and monetary economies—allowing economic institutions to organically develop—it would inevitably have paralleled Europe's trajectory.
Yet when the Tokugawa triumphed at Sekigahara, they discovered that many retainers fleeing the defeated Toyotomi forces were Christians.
Some Christians had even ventured overseas.
Fearing renewed insurrection through foreign contact, the regime banned all overseas travel and prohibited expatriates from returning.
Foreign trade was outlawed.
An exception was made only for Chinese and Dutch traders who came to Japan—a policy born of necessity.
The Japanese became passive participants in this stunted commerce—selling when Chinese buyers appeared, selling when Dutch purchasers arrived.
They purchased Dutch imports at dictated prices without negotiation.
True commerce requires freely traversing markets to sell high and buy low—a practice rendered impossible.
Chinese traders freely exported Japanese goods while Dutch merchants sold overpriced imports and extracted cheap exports.
This asymmetrical system persisted for three centuries.
Japan's economic mechanisms were thus forced into regression from their natural course, becoming profoundly distorted.
By damming this vital flow of commerce, they created an artificial stagnation.
Though Nagasaki served as the designated foreign trade port—where buying Dutch goods at inflated prices still yielded profits when resold domestically in Kyoto and Edo—these profits flowed exclusively to fifty-sixty privileged merchants from major cities: dozens in Edo, dozens in Sakai, others from Hakata, Nagasaki itself, Osaka, and Kyoto controlling exports.
Such concentrated enrichment bred widespread discontent.
It was amidst these tensions that Nagasaki officials instituted the hearth silver system.

Since these were enormous profits, they shared a portion with those maintaining hearths—meaning households—allocating all gains to Nagasaki Port through this distribution.
Otherwise appearing too brazen while fearing Tokugawa intervention—since Edo, Nagasaki, Sakai and Hakata merchants alone couldn't monopolize profits—they implemented this 'hearth silver' system distributing earnings, rendering all commerce artificial.
Consequently both currency systems and trade controls developed oddly while isolation left them ignorant of Western developments.
When Dutch merchant ships arrived, officials obtained so-called rumor reports from captains—seafaring traders doubling as commanders.
Upon demanding “You passed through Java—report Western affairs!”, the Dutch would scribble lines like “One Napoleon born” as global updates.
Tokugawa bureaucrats viewing these believed they grasped world conditions.
Little did they know reality differed—science and machinery now dominated Westward realms where Napoleon forged generals from muddied origins.
Unaware that abroad feudal systems crumbled allowing soldiers to rise as generals through revolutionary reforms.
Thus all institutions lagged behind.
At this critical juncture came Perry forcing open Japan’s doors.
We stood equal with Westerners despite three centuries’ handicap.
Such was our circumstance.
Within forty-five years we reclaimed lost ground achieved parity and now reach further—this being our claim.
Therefore New Japan wasn’t foreign-made.
This emerged through Japanese capabilities stimulated into growth.
Without such inherent strength none could accomplish this.
That Yawata Steel Works ranks among global leaders today stems from learning Western scale—yet ironcraft itself we’ve practiced three-four centuries prior.
During Japan’s Kiyomori era China hosted its Song court.
Ouyang Xiu—esteemed scholar of that age—found many Japanese admirers of his writings.
This same Ouyang composed verses titled “Japanese Sword.”

He composed a poem that declared of the Japanese sword: "To cleave unhewn jade and slay dragons it must be—unrivaled in its fierce precision; under heaven exists no famed blade like this."
If one asks who forged these blades, it was craftsmen from Sakai who did so.
Those who could produce such masterpieces from iron sand through small-scale operations—it comes as no surprise that they later established steelworks of such magnitude.
This was merely a matter of scaling up operations and learning machinery techniques.
The intellect and manual skill required to operate these systems had always existed within us.
When we began trading with Portugal and the Netherlands among the various novelties that arrived was velvet.
This velvet was indeed soft and splendid, but when we sought to learn its manufacturing method, the Portuguese refused to teach it.
The Sakai merchants desperately wanted to master this technique by any means necessary, but faced refusal. In their struggle, after years passed, upon unraveling a piece of velvet for examination, they discovered a single wire embedded in its corner.
Thus they conceived the method of weaving around a central wire and immediately reproduced velvet.
That those so skilled in precision craftsmanship have today achieved global prominence in cotton textiles should surprise no one.
They simply learned machinery from Manchester.
We already possessed both the operational capacity and the necessary technical intellect and dexterity.
This principle holds true even for modern industrial endeavors.

“Lately there are those who say liberalism is undesirable, parliamentary government is undesirable—claiming these are all systems learned from the West—but as for having learned the parliamentary system from the West, in form, that is indeed correct. However, our country was destined to give rise to it.”

As I have previously explained, during the feudal era, samurai suppressed peasants through sword force; but when peace prevailed across the realm, swords ceased to hold sway—only gold’s power proved effective.
The Edo samurai carried themselves with great arrogance, yet year after year found themselves borrowing from townspeople—pledging rice vouchers for Bon and year-end payments as collateral—until gradually they bowed before gold’s might. Ultimately Edo’s merchants paraded through the city like daimyo themselves—porters bearing document boxes and retinues trailing behind them in processions dozens strong.
When daimyo processed through streets, they would fix spears upon their document boxes; but merchants in their lowly station could not display spears—so they marched bearing six-foot staves instead.
Since Edo’s warriors had grown listless [the townsfolk] derided them as “rain dragons,” laughing bitterly while barely containing their resentment.
“A ‘rain dragon,’ as you know,” [they jeered], “has no horns though called a dragon—merely a fearsome serpent writ large! Those wretches strut like rain dragons yet cannot even raise spears!” But even as they mocked thusly, those same warriors declined further—first begging loans outright before demanding money unasked-for—until at last they resorted to extortion.
Where gold flows there power resides; that those possessing true might gradually rise to dominance follows nature’s own logic.

In Britain’s case, if we ask what formed their parliament, it was not through mechanisms like free voting or general elections as seen today, but rather major landowners—that is, daimyo.
The King of England required funds to wage war against France.
When these daimyo-landlords were taxed,
they argued, “If we are taxed, then we must have a political voice”—and through such reasoning did parliament gain its authority.
In Japan too, when the military power of samurai had waned and the middle class came to hold sway through gold’s influence, their emergence as political voices became an inevitable force.
“While it is said Satsuma-Chōshū overthrew the Tokugawa shogunate after its defeat at Fushimi-Toba,” he continued, “though their role in its downfall cannot be denied, they did not topple it through strength alone—the shogunate had already collapsed with its gold reserves exhausted.”
Over forty to fifty years since Tenpō, they had debased currency by mixing copper and lead into gold to increase coinage, but ultimately this proved unsustainable for governance.
With America’s arrival compounding matters—requiring warship construction, cannon purchases—all remaining resources were expended; everything had been consumed in suppressing Chōshū.
When Tokugawa Yoshinobu suffered defeat at Osaka and fled to Edo, the emergency military funds stockpiled at Osaka Castle amounted to a mere 280,000 ryō.
This constituted their entire treasury.
Carrying this sum aboard warships during their retreat to Edo, they found—when Saigō Takamori’s forces seized control of the Great Edo Mint—only 150,000 ryō worth of Tenpō coins, Bunkyū coins, ichibukin, and koban coins remaining.
Though the Tokugawa government had maintained power for three centuries, its financial reserves stood at this paltry level.
The combined total of 430,000 ryō could fund mobilization of shogunate troops for barely one month.
Thus when we say the shogunate collapsed, it collapsed fiscally.
There remained no recourse.
“Long ago at Koromogawa,” Takekoshi recounted, “when Yoshitsune fought his final battle, Benkei withstood hundreds of arrows without falling—a feat I once marveled at—yet when examined afterward, he stood dead still pierced by shafts.”
This “standing death at Koromogawa” metaphor applied equally to the shogunate—outwardly intact yet functionally deceased for decades.
Though Satsuma-Chōshū’s contributions are noted, they merely delivered the final nudge to this long-corpse regime.
Given that power cannot exist without gold, when the middle class attained sufficient strength, their political assertion became nature’s inevitable course.
At the shogunate’s end, while tens of thousands of samurai remained in Edo, only a handful joined the Shōgitai barricading themselves at Ueno.

Those who barricaded themselves there were local lords from Shimōsa, Kōzuke, Gunma, and surrounding areas; those who had been training in swordsmanship emerged and formed the Shōgitai alongside the shogunate’s samurai—thus its core consisted of local lords.
The local lords possessed both gold and education, and because they were training in swordsmanship, the desire emerged among them to seize the opportunity presented by the upheavals of the realm and attempt something of significance.
That is, the middle class seized power through gold.

When this became an era of peace, and there existed in the West such institutions, what we ordinarily call 'public deliberation on all state affairs' indeed resembled Western parliaments—did it not? The notion of "Why not implement such a system?" marked the inception of parliamentary government; though its form was Western, the middle class that ought to have demanded it had already matured.
In this manner, Japan underwent the same process as Western nations and reached the same conclusion, ushering in an era where the middle class seized political power.
"From the West, various bad things may have entered, but good things have also come."
"However, bad things are not limited to the West; there are also those inherent to Japan."
"The notion that all bad things come from the West, and that Japan—as a divine nation—alone stands virtuous—such reasoning does not hold."
"It possesses evils such as those found in the West, and goods such as those found there."
"Since both good and evil have emerged through paths common to all under heaven, we must regard Japan as part of world history and never view its form through the distorted mirror of a copper pheasant."
"At the same time, one must not succumb to supernatural claims and believe that Japan alone is great."
"Nor do I consider it admirable that they have merely imitated the West like Western-obsessed scholars."
Over 2,500 years, we bore the strains within our very veins—which developed through peace—and today’s Japan is not imitation but evolution.
"We wish to acknowledge that this is not imitation but self-reliance."
"There are still various matters I would like to discuss, but as time has now grown pressing, I shall conclude today’s lecture here."
"I thank you for your kind attention."
(Applause) (End)