Graduate Journal of Asia-Pacific Studies
1: 1 (2003), 1-12
Fujitani, Imperialism and Post-World War II Japan
ȱ
Michael Hon-Chung CHUN
University of Auckland
THIS ESSAY aims to discuss, using Takashi Fujitani’s research,1 the implications and
significance of the imaginary pre-Meiji imperialism in constructing a new form of
Japanese nationalism in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Emphasis will
be placed on the Japanese monarchy, particularly the emperor (tenno), as a recently
invented tradition that has constantly been manipulated and constructed to serve the
interests of various groups in modern Japan. The impacts of such a reconstruction of
Japan’s past on postwar Japan will also be considered. This research will explore,
firstly, the significance of this reconstruction in relation to three themes: modernisation,
images of modernity, and nationalism; and, secondly, the (re)constructed imperial
institution as an object of manipulation by various groups with different interests, and
as the centre of controversies in the postwar years; that is, what the monarchy meant
and created for contemporary Japanese society.
The Japanese monarchy is a recently constructed artefact, in terms of the theme of
modernity, albeit under the guise of ‘tradition’, which was promoted vigorously by the
ruling elites during the Meiji period. The monarchy, especially the emperor, was
reinvented as the ultimate symbol for the new modernised Japan, for political leaders
endeavoured to achieve stability of the early Meiji government and develop a sense of
identity and unity among the Japanese people towards modern nationalism.2 The
reinvention as well as promotion of the monarchy was carried out not only by preaching
by words through such avenues as schools, imperial rescripts, and the military forces,3
but also through invention as well as encouragement of various kinds of artefacts such
as rituals,4 tours by the emperor,5 and national holidays.6 Reinvented constructions
including rites, symbols, customs, beliefs, and practices were closely linked to the
interests of the new Japan; that is, Fujitani argues, concepts about ‘the sacred, the
emperor, the nation, the family, prosperity, tradition, gender, and much else.’7 Indeed,
Emperor Meiji, before his death in 1912, as Stephen S. Large remarks, represented not
only Japan’s modernisation, building of an empire and constitutional government, but
also the kokutai, or ‘national polity,’ in which ‘the emperor, the people, and the land of
the gods were allegedly united in both time and space.’8 Yet despite the Meiji reinvention
of tradition the Emperor’s significance as a religious symbol giving meaning to the
country did not change; and the significance as such was indeed part of the tradition
which dated back to the thirteenth century and earlier.9
Chun/Fujitani, Imperialism and Post-World War II Japan
1
Appearances and images of the Japanese monarch as well support the notion that
the emperor himself represented a modernised, changing Japan.10 In the Meiji, Taisho,
and Showa years, popular images of the emperor’s physical body, or ‘body natural’
according to Suematsu Kencho and Ernst H. Kantorowicz’s analyses of monarchical
dualism,11 were constructed in terms of the theme of modernity. The physical body of
the emperor was masculinized, for it was perceived that to reinforce the idea of ‘direct
imperial rule’, in the realm of politics which was dominated by males, a masculinized
image of the emperor was desirable.12 The fact that the monarch was dressed in military
uniform not only provided the public a militaristic image of their ruler, who thus
appeared as a generalissimo, but also reinforced the notions that he was, although
nominally in reality, the commander-in-chief of the army and navy, and that he was at
the very centre of a modern state.13 Indeed, from the Meiji period to the early Showa
years the emperor’s image was artificially constructed to the effect as such, particularly
when Japan began to embark on her mission of empire expansion, and during the
Second World War.14 In 1936, for instance, a photograph showing Emperor Hirohito,
dressed in a suit, relaxing with the members of his family was banned by the imperial
household ministry.15 At this time only photographs reinforcing the emperor’s image as
a ‘manifest deity’ and commander-in-chief of the military were permitted.16 This is not
at all surprising, when one considers that from the Meiji period until the end of World
War II, the Japanese government endeavoured to not only ‘mould the Shinto tradition
into the impetus for an efficient technological civilisation,’17 as part of the process of
Westernisation, but also create an image of a ‘ruling god-king’,18 who was to be both
majestic and masculine.19
Meiji political leaders’ emphasis on the concept of ryosai kenbo, or ‘good wife, wise
mother’, illustrates further that the monarchy is a relatively recent construct and that its
image has constantly been reinvented and crafted. According to Fujitani’s research, a
new public image of the women of the imperial household was created not only as part
of the westernisation/modernisation process,20 but also as an exemplar of the ideal of
ryosai kenbo,21 which was, in fact, reinvented in the Meiji period, specifically in the late
1890s,22 until the end of the Second World War, and reiterated in the postwar years.23
The fact that the imperial family still serves as a representation of the concept of ryosai
kenbo in contemporary Japan will be discussed in detail later in this essay.
The emperor as a symbol was significant not only in representing Japan’s
modernisation,24 but also in the development of a new form of Japanese nationalism, or,
more specifically, ultranationalism. Politically, apparently a close relationship existed
between state Shinto, which the government vigorously promoted, the concept of the
emperor as a manifest deity, and the notion of empire building.25 The official
perception, according to W.G. Beasley, was that state Shinto could be used not only to
reinforce the concept of a divine emperor, but also to ‘bolster empire overseas.’26 The
emperor system was a central motif in the development of nationalism in the early
twentieth century, as propelled by neotraditionalist intellectuals such as Inoue Tetsujiro,
who emphasised loyalty to the national family, with the emperor being the central
figure, as the most basic value of the Japanese nation-state;27 and radicals such as Kita
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Ikki who desired shedding of the existing elites and replacing them with a state based
on a direct relationship between the emperor and his people.28 Moreover, in the late
1920s, suppression of thought deemed subversive was so vigorous that many of the
Communists who were imprisoned “pledged their loyalty to the Imperial Way, and
embraced ‘Japanism’.”29
Particularly during the 1930s, when Japan was increasingly isolated from the
international community, and successful in Manchuria,30 nationalistic sentiments as well
as militarism prevailed.31 The idea of a divine emperor ruling Japan came to be
enshrined in Japanese ultranationalism.32 Ideas which did not conform to the dominant
interpretation as such were considered traitorous.33 Moreover, in the Cardinal Principles
of the National Polity (kokutai no hongi), issued by the Thought Bureau of the Ministry of
Education in 1937, loyalty to the emperor was emphasised.34 Before the end of the
Second World War, in the Army recruits were ‘expected to be able to recite the whole of
the long text of the Emperor’s words to the soldiers.’35 In fact many soldiers, as well as
children, Tsurumi Shunsuke observes, were flogged for their inability to write the
characters properly and to recite them smoothly.36 In the 1920s and 1930s Japan’s
militarists, including General Tanaka Giichi and his Imperial Reservists Association
(Teikoku Zaigo gunjinkai), did in fact employ Hirohito’s divinity to justify their own
expansionist desires.37 More importantly, the military itself made use of the imperial
institution to their own advantage and to increase its influence in politics.38
In the area of education during the Meiji period, too, the concept of family state
ideology, which equated filial piety within the home with loyalty to the emperor as
father of the ‘national family’, was vigorously reinforced.39 Indeed, from the early 1930s
to the mid-1940s inside and outside school children were taught to respect Emperor
Hirohito.40 No one dared to express publicly doubts as to the emperor’s divinity.41
Kurita Wataru notes that in this period education was designed to promote the imperial
institution, and that a popular monthly magazine for children actually states:
‘Our country has prepared because all Japanese living as one great family presided over
by the imperial household…. Successive generations of emperors have devoted
themselves to the people, showing them with boundless affection. From our ancestors’
day down to the present, we have held our emperors in greater esteem than our own
parents.’42
Furthermore, in the Meiji period, on occasions such as the Meiji emperor’s
birthday as well as kigensetsu,43 school children, and military personnel, were told to
bow before photographs of the emperor and sing the national anthem.44 Tsurumi
observes that, before the end of the Pacific War, in primary schools the emperor’s
photograph was kept in a special storehouse and students as well as teachers were
expected to bow when walking past the storehouse.45 Charles Nelson Spinks takes the
argument even further, by stating that from the mid-1930s onwards, until the end of the
Pacific War, education in Japan was limited to ‘training students for their eventual place
in the war machine, either as soldiers on the battlefield or as workers on the home
front.’46 From the points stated above it can be clearly seen that the emperor as both a
Chun/Fujitani, Imperialism and Post-World War II Japan
3
concept and a tangible figure was significant in terms of the development of Japanese
nationalism in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century.
The significance of the emperor as a symbol of Japan remains to some extent in the
postwar years. The emperor system remains intact despite Japan’s defeat in the Pacific
War. While it is true that the survival of the imperial institution was mainly due to
occupation authorities’ fear that chaos would follow should the emperor system be
abolished altogether,47 and while the emperor has now been made merely ‘the symbol of
the state and of the unity of the people,’48 the significance of the emperor system as a
concept and what it meant for contemporary Japanese society cannot be ignored.
Firstly, the imperial institution has been important in terms of how contemporary
Japanese themselves remember the past. In other words, it has become a significant
concept in public memory.49 In the 1970s and 1980s, Carol Gluck argues, there existed
two parts to the narrative of the Showa period: one which focused on the early Showa
years characterised by militarism and war, and the other on postwar Showa marked by
recovery, democracy, and prosperity.50 In this sense Showa as a concept has become a
yardstick by which the past, the pre-war years, and the present, the postwar years, are
separated. Gluck also notes that there have been two interpretations, in the ‘post-Showa
discourse of public memory,’ as to the monarchy’s role in a supposedly democratic
nation.51 The first interpretation views the imperial institution in ‘constitutional terms’,
while the second perceives the monarchy as a cultural symbol as well as a symbol of
national identity.52
Kosaka Masataka’s views illustrate further the importance of the monarchy in
postwar Japan. He contends that after the Second World War both Japanese and
American officials recognised the need to preserve the imperial institution, and that
ironically postwar reforms had in effect not only clarified the status of the emperor but
also reinforced the more traditional pre-Meiji imperial institution.53 Kosaka states:
‘The new constitution… far from violating traditional institutions, brought the Japanese
system into a more faithful conformity with tradition…. The U.S. Occupation…
ultimately… brought the status of the emperor into line with traditions that went back to
the thirteenth century and earlier. Emperors were rarely political…. In ceremony, they
gave meaning to the nation.’54
Kosaka further argues that the fact that the emperor system was retained, that is, the
survival of the most fundamental historical continuity, is the reason why postwar
reforms have been successful.55 He perceives the modified status of the emperor as a
representation of the difference pre-war Japan and postwar Japan.56 On the other hand,
Herbert P. Bix argues that scholars and the media as well contributed to the construction
of Hirohito’s new image as a peace-loving intellectual.57 In short, the views as such seem
to be in line with the notion that the monarchy has been subjected to constant
reinvention, especially in times of socio-political changes and upheavals, as presented in
Fujitani’s work.
Interestingly, the monarchy as both a symbol and a concept continues to be an
object of manipulation in postwar Japan. The only difference between the pre-war
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manipulation and postwar manipulation as such is probably that in the pre-war years it
was the military who used the emperor to its advantage, to justify empire expansion
under the guise of nationalism, whereas in the postwar years it has been civilian officials
and business groups who have done so to serve their own interests, whether they be
political or commercial.58 This is clearly illustrated by, firstly, the fact that the imperial
institution has been placed at the centre of the development of a new form of postwar
Japanese nationalism. And, the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) was largely responsible
for this process, which is also closely linked to the significance of agriculture in postwar
Japanese economy. Moreover, the phenomenon of jishuku, or self-restraint, and the idea
of kicho, which were specially prepared books on which names were signed as a gesture
of wishing for the recovery for the emperor’s recovery from his illness, at the time when
the Showa emperor was dying, support the notion that the emperor as a symbol in
postwar Japan has been used not necessarily for the sake of reviving nationalistic
sentiments, but for other purposes.
It has been argued that an intense rivalry exists in the postwar Japanese economy
between the nationalistic and racist elites, and the more open-minded universalistic
elites.59 The former takes the emperor as their ‘symbolic embodiment’, whereas the
latter is represented by shosha which, according to Yoshio Sugimoto, were widely
known trading houses that have become increasingly multinational and expanded
beyond Japanese soil.60 Sugimoto argues that shosha capitalists are radically different
from tenno capitalists who are characterised by not only their hostility towards the
liberalisation of agricultural imports but also their opposition to the acceptance of Asian
workers in the domestic labour market.61 More importantly, tenno capitalists ‘favour
moral education and strict discipline in schools, defend Japan’s activities during World
War Two, and attack foreign criticisms of Japan.’62 In short, the existence of tenno
capitalism shows that in postwar Japan there is a linkage between the economy,
particularly agricultural sector, and nationalism. The emperor as a symbol is again
placed at the centre of the aforementioned rivalry. The fact that the agricultural sector
contributes to some extent to the development of postwar Japanese nationalism is
somewhat similar to the situation in the early twentieth century, where farmers in the
countryside challenged the hegemony of local elites, sought to maintain communal
autonomy, were characterised by antiurbanism, and, most importantly, came to support
right-wing activities that eventually gave rise to the emergence of militarism.63
The LDP, particularly in the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s, was responsible for a revival
of Japanese nationalism with the imperial institution as its symbol. The reason for the
revival as such was that the LDP saw the need, given the context of the Cold War
marked by intense political polarisation, to counter the forces of the left wing.64
Therefore, the LDP endeavoured to craft a new form of nationalism based on, according
to Large, ‘respect for traditional social values and institutions,’65 including the emperor
system, that would ‘appeal to the party’s principal supporters, the majority of relatively
conservative rural voters and big business.’66 Furthermore, during the 1970s and 1980s,
as Japan was becoming an economic giant and increasingly engaged in trade wars with
the United States, LDP leaders believed that it was necessary to expunge Japan’s
Chun/Fujitani, Imperialism and Post-World War II Japan
5
postwar dependency upon the United States.67 The government desired protection of
profits from overseas investments, which required some sort of national unity.68 At the
centre of such efforts were Prime Minister Nakasone Yasuhiro and his cabinet, who
started to rethink Japan’s past as well as postwar experience.69 Indeed, Nakasone
himself stressed the importance of the monarchy,70 and advocated the notion that the
emperor should have a more active role in public life and foreign affairs, so did the
Foreign Ministry in the late 1980s.71 In fact, Nakasone had been criticised to have
‘moved up the sixtieth-anniversary ceremony from December 25 to enhance his
popularity before the fall election.’72 In 1990 the government itself even stressed the
importance of Daijosai, which is a sacred Shinto ritual being the second part of the
enthronement ceremony.73
Other moves by the Japanese government to revitalise nationalistic sentiments
include the LDP’s restoration of kigensetsu in 1966,74 alterations of history textbooks by
the Ministry of Education,75 and Nakasone’s official visit to Yasukuni Shrine in which
the spirits of the war dead, including that of Tojo Hideki, are enshrined.76 The Prime
Minister’s visit to the shrine and the decision to enshrine Tojo’s spirit were particularly
controversial for it reinforced memories of the relationship between the emperor, the
government, and the war.77 Without a doubt, Yasukuni Shrine as well as war
responsibility of the Emperor Showa remained controversial even in the 1990s.78 It has
been argued that Hirohito’s longevity had resulted in a prolonged reluctance among the
Japanese people to engage in serious discussion of the emperor system, or to publicly
question the imperial institution.79
On the other hand, in the business context the phenomenon of jishuku and the idea
of kicho together illustrate that the imperial institution in the late 1980s was utilised not
necessarily for the development of nationalism. Watanabe Osamu remarks that in the
commercial sector the monarchy as a concept was revitalised due to a consensus within
the business community towards the emperor system as it looked to the state for
military and political support, for the sake of protecting its capital overseas, given the
fact that American power started to decline in the mid-1970s.80 As a result, adjustments
were made to conform to the mood created by the emperor’s grave illness in the late
1980s.81 For instance, entertainment programmes for employees were postponed and
arrangements were made to have them sign the kicho placed in front of the Imperial
Palace.82 However, such arrangements were made not out of genuine concern for the
emperor’s health.83 Rather, they were made due to the interests of the business sector to
have a united front to battle the uncertainty that the emperor’s illness might bring
about.84
Workers themselves followed orders give by their employers to sign the kicho, for
they did not wish to be identified as minority within the company or be viewed as
someone who ‘would not make enough effort,’85 so as not to put their own career
prospects at work at stake.86 In this sense the dominant motifs were loyalty to the
company and personal aspirations. Watanabe argues, therefore, that the emperor’s
illness in fact provided an opportunity for companies to ‘maintain and reinforce
discipline.’87 It should also be noted that the state itself as well contributed to some
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extent to the phenomenon of jishuku, for Prime Minister Takeshita Noboru postponed
speaking engagements.88 Of course there were those who signed the kicho genuinely
wishing for the recovery of the emperor, for more than four million signatures had been
obtained.89
The concept of ryosai kenbo is still very much alive in contemporary Japanese
society, and the monarchy, as in the pre-war years, serves as an exemplar of this ideal.
This is illustrated by the fact that the images of the monarchy had been, and still is,
constantly crafted to conform to ideals promoted by the state. Fujitani argues that the
practice that women in the imperial household, instead of withdrawing into the private
sphere, emerged as public figures in modern Japan, had been a construction of the Meiji
period, in emulation of Western monarchies.90 Undoubtedly this practice still exists
today, for women of the imperial family are often present in photographs in newspapers
and magazines. Moreover, that images of the monarchy are constructed is illustrated by
the fact that the Imperial Household Agency was furious about the publication, in
newspapers and magazines, of an ‘informal’ photograph of newlyweds Prince Akishino
and Kiko Kawashima in 1990.91 Barry Hillenbrand’s comments, albeit somewhat
stereotypical and odd, reflects the fact that the imperial family serves as a representation
of the ideal of ryosai kenbo:
'Despite her troubles, Michiko has been an exemplary mother to her three children and a
seemingly ideal wife for Akihito, who is devoted to her. During their motor parade
through the city last week, Emperor and Empress carried on a warm and animated
conversation, acting more like newlyweds than a couple married for more than 30 years.
Michiko is an engaging hostess who speaks fluent English and dresses with great flair.'92
Undoubtedly, there still seemed to be a sense of intimacy between the public and
the imperial family, which has very much been an object of public gaze, as illustrated by
the 1959 wedding of Prince Akihito and Michiko Shoda, who was a commoner, which
attracted extensive media coverage. The event was regarded by Japanese youth as a
representation of the ideal of romantic love and Michiko Shoda herself became an
aspiration for young females, although there had also been negative views towards the
wedding.93 Interestingly, the marriage between Prince Akishino and Kawashima as well
seems to have been hailed as one based on love and attracted media attention.94
Nonetheless, the 1959 imperial wedding, along with the kicho, seems to echo the idea
that intimacy between the imperial household and the public had been a creation of the
Meiji period, as discussed in Fujitani’s work.95 This intimacy may be seen as a
continuity that has been maintained from the Meiji period through to the postwar years.
At the same time, however, implied in the reconstruction of the Meiji imperial
institution were paradoxes and ironies, which may be incomprehensible at first glance
but understandable after close examination. Even in the postwar period there are
paradoxes resulting from both pre-war and postwar reconstructions of the monarchy.
Firstly, towards the middle of the Meiji period the intimacy between the monarchy and
the pubic which was vigorously promoted by the government came to be undermined
by the fact that the monarchy had partially withdrawn.96 Secondly, as Japan began to
Chun/Fujitani, Imperialism and Post-World War II Japan
7
embark on her mission of empire expansion, the Showa Emperor, who was supposedly
a symbol of national unity, actually contributed to disunity within the government due
to his weak character and the fact that he, as a constitutional monarch, was unable to
hand down decisions of his own;97 and yet it has also been argued that at the end of the
Second World War, ironically, the emperor ‘turned out to be the only viable authority
that could surrender the huge body of armed forces.’98 Moreover, the existence of a
monarch in a supposedly and practically postwar democratic state is contradiction in
itself.99 As Hirohito was dying, although there was extensive media coverage of his
health condition, the Imperial Household Agency, apparently still embracing the
invented myth that the emperor was divine, was reluctant to say that the emperor was
ill.100 And, lastly, Emperor Akihito himself has in fact not only vowed to protect the new
constitution of Japan, and is thus silencing right-wing activists’ call for a revision of the
constitution, but also complained about the public’s overreaction to his father’s illness.101
In conclusion, the Japanese monarchy is a relatively recent artefact that was
created as part of the modernisation process, yet under the guise of tradition, in the
Meiji period, and has continued to be reinvented in the postwar years, particularly from
the mid-1970s onwards. It appears that today the monarchy has become more like a
diplomat for Japan, rather than a ‘manifest deity’.102 The imperial institution has been a
significant concept and a tangible symbol in both the pre-war years and the postwar
years, as explained above. In the postwar period there have been various views towards
the monarchy; these range from outright support to complete apathy and even vigorous
opposition.103 At any rate, Emiko’s Ohnuki-Tierney’s analysis of the flexible Japanese
concept of kami, although to some extent different from Fujitani’s,104 may be useful in
explaining why the Japanese monarchy, despite the fact that it had been subjected to
constant reinvention and reconstruction by various groups for different purposes, in the
pre-war and postwar years, still exists today. In addition, a government official’s
comment on why the imperial institution still remains intact today perhaps illustrates
the most interesting irony:
‘People who are indifferent about the emperor are the ones who really sustain this
institution…If there were overwhelming public support for the emperor, then there
would also be intense opposition. With our history, it would be a serious problem if
interest in the imperial family became too strong.’105
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NOTES
1 The specific chapters of Fujitani’s work which have been focused on in the writing of this essay are the first
and fourth chapters. See Takashi Fujitani, Splendid Monarchy: Power and Pageantry in Modern Japan, 1st
paperback printing, Berkeley, 1998, pp.1-28 and 155-194.
2 ibid., pp.7-10.
3 Wilbur M. Fridell, ‘Government Ethics Textbooks in Late Meiji Japan’, Journal of Asian Studies, 29, 4, 1970,
pp.823-833.
4 Fujitani, Splendid Monarchy, pp.11-14 and 107.
5 ibid., p.13.
6 ibid., pp.12-13.
7 ibid., pp.20-21.
8 Stephen S. Large, Emperors of the Rising Sun, Tokyo, 1999, p.30.
9 Kosaka, Masataka, ‘The Showa Era (1926-1989)’, Daedalus, 119, 3, 1990, pp.27-47.
10 ibid., p.31.
11 For details, see Fujitani, Splendid Monarchy, p.156.
12 ibid., p.173.
13 ibid., pp.173-174. See also Large, Emperors of the Rising Sun, pp.49-51.
14 For images of the emperor with a militaristic flavour, see, for example, Herbert P. Bix, Hirohito and the
Making of Modern Japan, New York, 2000, pp.248-255, Marius B. Jansen, The Making of Modern Japan,
Cambridge, 2000, pp.589-593, and Large, Emperors of the Rising Sun, pp.122-126.
15 Large, Emperors of the Rising Sun, p.155.
16 ibid.
17 Shunsuke Tsurumi, An Intellectual History of Wartime Japan, Reprinted edn, London, 1986, p.25.
18 Large, Emperors of the Rising Sun, p.48.
19 Fujitani, Splendid Monarchy, pp.176-177.
20 ibid., p.183.
21 ibid., p.180.
22 Kathleen S. Uno, “The Death of ‘Good Wife, Wise Mother’?”, in Andrew Gordon, ed, Postwar Japan as
History, Berkeley, 1993, pp.293-322.
23 ibid. For a detailed analysis of Japanese attitudes towards marriage and divorce in different periods, see
Fumie Kumagai, ‘Changing Divorce in Japan’, Journal of Family History, 8, 1983, pp.85-108.
24 Large, Empire of the Rising Sun, p.31.
25 W.G. Beasley, The Rise of Modern Japan: Political, Economic, and Social Change since 1850, 3rd edn, London,
2000, pp.185-186.
26 ibid., p.186.
27 Stefan Tanaka, Japan’s Orient: Rendering Pasts into History, 1st paperback printing, Berkeley, 1995, p.133.
28 Beasley, The Rise of Modern Japan, p.166.
29 Mikiso Hane, Modern Japan: A Historical Survey, 2nd edn, Boulder, 1992, p.259.
30 ibid, pp.237-238. Between 1927 and 1929 General Tanaka Giichi, as Prime Minister of Japan, adopted an
aggressive policy towards China. It was during this period that militarism began to emerge.
31 ibid., p.259.
32 Large, Emperors of the Rising Sun, p.156.
33 For instance, Minobe Tatsukichi’s ‘organ theory’ (tenno kikan setsu) which viewed the emperor as merely
an ‘organ’ of the state, not an absolute manifest deity representing imperial Japan, was rejected by the mid1930s. On the other hand, Uesugi Shinkichi argued that sovereignty rested with the emperor. See Large,
Emperors of the Rising Sun, pp.155-156, and Peter Duus, ‘Socialism, Liberalism, and Marxism, 1901-1931,’ in
Peter Duus, ed, The Cambridge History of Japan, Volume 6, The Twentieth Century, reprinted edn, Cambridge,
1997, pp.654-710.
34 John W. Dower, War without Mercy: Race and Power in the Pacific War, New York, 1986, pp.221-222.
35 Tsurumi, An Intellectual History of Wartime Japan, p.27.
36 ibid.
Chun/Fujitani, Imperialism and Post-World War II Japan
9
37
Large, Emperors of the Rising Sun, p.114. See also Stephen S. Large, ‘Emperor Hirohito and Early Showa
Japan’, in Stephen S. Large, ed, Showa Japan: Political, Economic and Social History 1926-1989, London, 1998,
pp.239-258, and Tokyo Correspondent, ‘Japan’s $80m Imperial Banzai’, The Economist, 317, 7680, 1990, p.31.
38 For details, see Masataka Kosaka, ‘The Showa Era (1926-1989)’, Daedalus, 119, 3, 1990, pp.27-47.
39 Wilbur M. Fridell, ‘Government Ethics Textbooks in Late Meiji Japan’, Journal of Asian Studies, 29, 4, 1970,
pp.823-833.
40 Wataru Kurita, ‘Making Peace with Hirohito and a Militaristic Past’, Japan Quarterly, 36, 2, 1989, pp.186192.
41 ibid.
42 ibid.
43 Kigensetsu was the national festival day on which the accession to the throne of Jimmu, the first emperor,
was commemorated. See Large, Emperors of the Rising Sun, p.30.
44 ibid.
45 Tsurumi, An Intellectual History of Wartime Japan, p.27.
46 Charles Nelson Spinks, ‘Indoctrination and Re-education of Japan’s Youth’, Pacific Affairs, 17, 1, 1944,
pp.56-70.
47 In fact, General Douglas MacArthur believed that it was desirable that the emperor system be retained for
the sake of a smooth occupation, and thus to avoid the need for a larger occupation force for a longer period
of time. Moreover, the Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers (SCAP) and American officials intended
to utilise the existing form of Japanese government to their advantage. This is evident in Philip R.
Piccigallo’s observations: “United States occupation policy intended to ‘use the existing form of government
in Japan,’ albeit not supporting it. That is, Japanese government was to serve as ‘executor’ of American
policy.” See Philip R. Piccigallo, The Japanese on Trial: Allied War Crimes Operations in the East 1945-1951,
Austin, 1979, pp.16-17.
48 Harold S. Quigley and John E. Turner, The New Japan: Government and Politics, Minneapolis, 1956, p.169.
49 Carol Gluck, ‘The Idea of Showa’, Daedalus, 119, 3, 1990, pp.1-26.
50 ibid.
51 ibid.
52 ibid.
53 Masataka Kosaka, ‘The Showa Era (1926-1989)’, Daedalus, 119, 3, 1990, pp.27-47.
54 ibid. (emphasis added)
55 ibid.
56 ibid.
57 For details, see Herbert P. Bix, “Inventing the ‘Symbol Monarchy’ in Japan, 1945-1952”, Journal of Japanese
Studies, 21, 2, 1995, pp.319-363.
58 John W. Dower’s comments on the implications of the new image and status of the Showa emperor is
quite interesting. He argues that the abrupt change of Hirohito’s appearance, from his image as a
generalissimo to that as a ‘human’ emperor among the general populace, represents not only national unity
but also ‘retrospective disunity’, as the militarists ‘who had just yesterday acted in his name abruptly
became today’s scapegoats and demonic forces.’ And, ironically, the kokutai and the monarchy survived
despite Japan’s defeat in the Pacific War and the American occupation. See John W. Dower, War Without
Mercy, pp.307-308.
59 Yoshio Sugimoto, An Introduction to Japanese Society, reprinted edn, Cambridge, 2000, p.216.
60 ibid.
61 ibid.
62 ibid.
63 Peter Duus, ‘Socialism, Liberalism, and Marxism, 1901-1931,’ in Peter Duus, ed, The Cambridge History of
Japan, Volume 6, The Twentieth Century, reprinted edn, Cambridge, 1997, pp.654-710.\
64 Large, Emperors of the Rising Sun, p.195.
65 ibid.
66 ibid.
67 ibid., p.197.
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68
Osamu Watanabe, ‘The Sociology of Jishuku and Kicho: the Death of Showa Tenno as a Reflection of the
Structure of Contemporary Japanese Society’, in Edward R. Beauchamp, Dimensions of Contemporary Japan: A
Collection of Essays, New York, 1998, pp.305-319.
69 ibid., pp.197-198.
70 Yugo Suzuki, ‘Hirohito and the Fate of the Emperor System’, The Christian Century, 106, 1, January 4-11,
1989, pp.5-7.
71 Charles Smith, ‘Doubts and Boycotts Usher in a New Era of Peace: At the Crossroads’, Far Eastern
Economic Review, 143, 3, January 19, 1989, pp.10-11. Smith also notes that Nakasone’s attempt to ‘attribute
thoughts to Hirohito’ signified a return to the pre-war practice where political leaders claimed imperial
sanction for their own decisions.
72 Michael Doan, ‘Japanese Royal Family: Anchor to an Ancient Past’, U.S. News and World Report, 100, May
12, 1986, p.13.
73 Tokyo Correspondent, ‘Japan’s $80m Imperial Banzai’, The Economist, 317, 7680, 1990, p.31.
74 Large, Emperors of the Rising Sun, p.196.
75 ibid., p.198.
76 ibid., pp.195-196. It should be noted that in the postwar years prime ministers before Nakasone had in fact
made unofficial visits to the shrine on August 15 every year. Nakasone was the first prime minister to visit
the shrine officially.
77 ibid.
78 Kantaro Awaya, ‘Emperor Showa’s Accountability for War’, Japan Quarterly, 38, 4, 1991, pp.386-398.
79 Wataru Kurita, ‘Making Peace with Hirohito and a Militaristic Past’, Japan Quarterly, 36, 2, 1989, pp.186192.
80 Osamu Watanabe, ‘The Sociology of Jishuku and Kicho: the Death of Showa Tenno as a Reflection of the
Structure of Contemporary Japanese Society’, in Edward R. Beauchamp, Dimensions of Contemporary Japan: A
Collection of Essays, New York, 1998, pp.305-319.
81 ibid.
82 ibid.
83 ibid.
84 ibid.
85 ibid.
86 ibid.
87 ibid.
88 Takashi Fujitani, “Electronic Pageantry and Japan’s ‘Symbolic Emperor’”, Journal of Asian Studies, 51, 4,
1994, pp.824-850.
89 Yugo Suzuki, ‘Hirohito and the Fate of the Emperor System’, The Christian Century, 106, 1, January 4-11,
1989, pp.5-7.
90 Fujitani, Splendid Monarchy, p.183.
91 Kumiko Makihara, ‘Guarding the Chrysanthemum Curtain’, Time, 136, 48, November 26, 1990, p.15.
92 Barry, Hillenbrand, ‘Ascending the Throne’, Time, November 26, 1990, 136, 48, pp.12-15.
93 Jayson Chun, ‘A New Kind of Royalty: The Imperial Family and the Media in Postwar Japan’, in Timothy
J. Craig, Japan Pop!: Inside the World of Japanese Popular Culture, New York, 2000, pp.222-243.
94 For details, see People Weekly, ‘The Emperor’s Second Son Falls in Love with a Commoner—and so does
the Rest of Japan’, People Weekly, Sept 18, 1989, 32, 12, pp.54-55.
95 Fujitani, Splendid Monarchy, p.163.
96 Masao Maruyama, ‘Thought and Behaviour Patterns of Japan’s Wartime Leaders’, in Ivan Morris, ed,
Thought and Behaviour in Modern Japanese Politics, London, 1963, pp.84-134.
97 Marius B. Jansen, ‘The Presidential Address: Monarchy and Modernisation in Japan’, Journal of Asian
Studies, 36, 4, pp.611-622.
98 J.M. Kitagawa, ‘Some Reflections on Japanese Religion and Its Relationship to the Imperial System’,
Japanese Journal of Religious Studies, 17, 2-3, pp.129-178, quoted in Emiko Ohnuki-Tierney, ‘The Emperor of
Japan as Deity (Kami)’, Ethnology, 30, 3, 1991, pp.199-215.
Chun/Fujitani, Imperialism and Post-World War II Japan
11
99
Yugo Suzuki, ‘Hirohito and the Fate of the Emperor System’, The Christian Century, 106, 1, January 4-11,
1989, pp.5-7.
100 Brian Moeran, ‘Last Days of the Emperor’, Encounter, 72, 2, 1989, pp.58-62.
101 Charles Smith, ‘Doubts and Boycotts Usher in a New Era of Peace: At the Crossroads’, Far Eastern
Economic Review, 143, 3, January 19, 1989, pp.10-11.
102 Michael Vatikiotis, ‘Deity to Diplomat: Erstwhile Conqueror searches for a New Regional Role’, Far
Eastern Economic Review, 154, 40, October 3, 1991, p.38.
103 See Emiko Ohnuki-Tierney, ‘The Emperor of Japan as Deity (Kami)’, Ethnology, 30, 3, 1991, pp.199-215,
Tokyo Correspondent, ‘Japan’s $80m Imperial Banzai’, The Economist, 317, 7680, 1990, p.31, and Wataru
Kurita, ‘Enthroning a New Emperor’, Japan Quarterly, 38, 1, 1991, pp.42-49.
104 Ohnuki-Tierney argues that for a long time the kami have been regarded as both human and deity by the
Japanese people, and that historical actors like the military were merely assigning meanings to it ‘like an
empty vessel.’ See Emiko Ohnuki-Tierney, ‘The Emperor of Japan as Deity (Kami)’, Ethnology, 30, 3, 1991,
pp.199-215.
105 Robert Delfs, ‘Emperor’s Minders: Japanese Agency Keeps Public at a Distance’, Far Eastern Economic
Review, 156, 17, April 29, 1993, pp.21-22.
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