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by Romulus Hillsborough
In June 1853, Commodore Matthew Perry of the United States Navy
led a squadron of four heavily armed warships into Sagami Bay, to the Port
of Uraga, just south of the Shogun's capital at Edo. What the Americans found
was a technologically backward, though intricately complicated, island nation,
under the rule of the House of Tokugawa, that had been isolated from the rest
of the world for two and a half centuries.
Whether or not the Americans realized the far-reaching effects of their gunboat
diplomacy, they now set into motion a coup de theatre which fifteen
years hence would transform the conglomerate of some 260 feudal domains into
a single, unified country. When the fifteenth and last Shogun, Yoshinobu Tokugawa,
abdicated his rule and restored the emperor to his ancient seat of power in
November 1867, Japan was well on its way to becoming an industrialized nation,
rapidly modernizing and Westernizing in a unique Japanese sense.
Quite a transformation in just fifteen years, and much of the credit goes
to a lower ranking samurai from the Tosa domain named Sakamoto Ryoma. When
Ryoma fled his native Tosa in spring 1862, he was a "nobody." Although
he was a renowned swordsman who had served as head of an elite fencing academy
in Edo, and was also a leader of the young samurai in Tosa who advocated the
radical slogans Expelling the Barbarians, Imperial Reverence
and Toppling the Shogunate, in the eyes of the power that were he was
a "nobody." He had never held an official post, and he never would.
When in the following October the "nobody" met Katsu Kaishu, the
enlightened commissioners of the Shogun's navy, it might have been with intent
to assassinate him. But, of course, Ryoma did not kill Kaishu. Instead, this
champion of samurai who would overthrow the Shogunate and expel the barbarians
became the devoted follower of the elite Shogunal official. Kaishu opened
Ryoma's eyes to the futility of trying to defend against a foreign onslaught
without first developing a powerful navy; and to this end Japan desperately
needed Western technology and expertise. Ryoma now worked with Kaishu, whom
he called "the greatest man in Japan," to establish a naval academy
in Kobe, where he and his comrades studied the naval arts and sciences under
their revered mentor. But certain of his hotheaded comrades called Ryoma a
turncoat for siding with the enemy, which, of course, was not true. As if
to belie the false accusation, in the following June Ryoma vowed, in a letter
to his sister, to "clean up Japan once and for all." What he was
talking about was overthrowing the military government, which Kaishu loyally
served. Earlier in the same month, ships of the United States and France had
shelled the radical Choshu domain in retaliation for Choshu's having recently
fired upon foreign ships passing through Shimonoseki Strait. News of the attack
deeply troubled Ryoma, who was concerned about possible designs among the
Western powers, particularly France and England, to colonize Japan as the
latter had China. When Ryoma learned that the foreign ships that had bombarded
Choshu were subsequently repaired at a Tokugawa shipyard in Edo, he was fighting
mad. "It is really too bad that Choshu started a war last month by shelling
foreign ships," he wrote his sister. "This does not benefit Japan
at all. But what really disgusts me is that the ships they shot up in Choshu
are being repaired at Edo, and when they're fixed will head right back to
Choshu to fight again. This is all because corrupt officials in Edo are in
league with the barbarians." But, now, through the good offices of Katsu
Kaishu, Ryoma too was in league with some very powerful men. "Although
those corrupt Shogunal officials have a great deal of power now, I'm going
to get the help of two or three daimyo and enlist likeminded men so we can
start thinking more about the good of Japan, and not only the Imperial Court.
Then, I'll get together with my friends in Edo (you know, Tokugawa retainers,
daimyo and so on) to go after those wicked officials and cut them down."
Ryoma was not opposed to boasting, and he had a big ego, declaring to his
sister: "It's a shame that there aren't more men like me around the country."
For all his boasting, however, Ryoma was also a realist. "I don't expect
that I'll be around too long. But I'm not about to die like any average person
either. I'm only prepared to die when big changes finally come, when even
if I continue to live I will no longer be of any use to the country. But since
I'm fairly shifty, I'm not likely to die so easily. But seriously, although
I was born a mere potato digger in Tosa, a nobody, I'm destined to bring about
great changes in the nation. But I'm definitely not going to get puffed up
about it. Quite the contrary! I'm going to keep my nose to the ground, like
a clam in the mud. So don't worry about me!"
It seems that Ryoma was also an incredible visionary who foresaw his own destination.
Four years later the "nobody" from Tosa forced the peaceful abdication
of Shogun Tokugawa Yoshinobu, and the restoration of the emperor to power
- the event that historians call the Meiji Restoration.
But how could Ryoma - who had plunged from the status of "nobody,"
to that of outlaw, and one of the most wanted men on a long list of Tokugawa
enemies - be of sufficient consequence to force the abdication of the generalissimo
of the 267-year-old samurai government? And what were his reasons for doing
so, even at the risk of his own life? To answer the second question first,
and to put it quite simply, Ryoma was a lover of freedom - the freedom to
act, the freedom to think, and the freedom to be. These were the ideals that
drove Ryoma on his dangerous quest for freedom - which, of course, was nothing
less than the salvation of Japan. But the greatest obstacle to this freedom,
and to the salvation of Japan from foreign subjugation, was the antiquated
Tokugawa system, with its hundreds of feudal domains and suppressive class
structure, which men like Katsu Kaishu and Sakamoto Ryoma meant to replace
with a representative form of government styled after the great Western powers,
and based on a free-class society and open commerce with the rest of the world.
While Ryoma was painfully aware of the necessity to eliminate the Shogunate,
the means for revolution eluded him. Having abandoned Tosa, he was a ronin,
an outlaw samurai - a status which at once aided and confounded him. Unlike
his comrades-in-arms from Choshu, Satsuma and other samurai clans, he was
not bound to the service of feudal lord and clan. On the other hand he did
not enjoy the financial support and protection of a powerful feudal domain.
After much trial and tribulation, and as his first giant step toward realizing
his great objective, Ryoma devised a preposterous plan of convincing Satsuma
and Choshu to join forces with one another as the only means to topple the
Shogunate. But Satsuma and Choshu were bitter enemies whose hate for one another
surpassed even that hate which they had historically harbored toward the Tokugawa.
What's more, the braggart Ryoma had a reputation for exaggerating. When he
told his friends of his plan, some initially dismissed it as so much "hot
air," while others simply thought he was crazy. But in addition to many
other talents, Ryoma, a truly Renaissance man, was endowed with an uncanny
power of persuasion. After a year of planning and negotiation, in January
1866, Ryoma, now an indispensable "nobody," successfully brokered
a military alliance between Satsuma and Choshu, which more than anything else
hastened the collapse of the Tokugawa Shogunate.
Although the Shogunate had not yet learned of the secret alliance, Tokugawa
police agents strongly suspected that Ryoma was up to no good. On the night
after the alliance was sealed in Kyoto, Ryoma was ambushed by a Tokugawa police
squad, as he and a samurai of Choshu, who had been assigned as Ryoma's bodyguard,
celebrated their great success in a second-story room at Ryoma's favorite
inn, the Teradaya, on the outskirts of the Imperial capital. A young maidservant
at the inn, named Oryo, had been soaking in a hot bath when she heard the
assailants break into the house. Oryo immediately ran from the bathroom stark
naked up the dark staircase to warn the two men upstairs. The scene is a very
famous one, as is the ensuing battle, during which Ryoma wielded a Smith &
Wesson revolver, his bodyguard a lethal spear, to fend off their assailants
and escape through the backdoor. Equally famous is the wedding between Ryoma
and Oryo, which took place soon after, and their subsequent trip to the hot-spring
baths in the Kirishima mountains of Satsuma, which was supposedly the first
honeymoon in Japan.
In spring 1867, Ryoma established his Kaientai, Japan's first modern corporation
and the precursor to the Mitsubishi. Based in the international port-city
of Nagasaki, the Kaientai was a private navy and shipping firm through which
Ryoma and his men ran guns for the Choshu and Satsuma revolutionaries.
In the previous June, Ryoma had commanded a warship in a sea-battle off Shimonoseki,
in which he aided Choshu's Extraordinary Corps, Japan's first modern militia,
comprising both samurai and peasants, in a rout of Tokugawa naval forces.
While Ryoma's anti-Tokugawa comrades from Satsuma and Choshu prepared to crush
the Shogunate by military might, the "nobody" from Tosa devised
a plan to avoid bloody civil war and foreign intervention. Ryoma's "Great
Plan at Sea," an eight-point plan which he wrote aboard ship, called
for the Shogun to return the reins of government to the Imperial Court; for
the establishment of Upper and Lower Houses of government; for all government
measures to be based on public opinion, and decided by councilors comprised
of the most able feudal lords, court nobles and the Japanese people at large.
Rather than merely saying that Ryoma was once again "blowing hot air,"
or that he was "crazy," there were now some among his comrades who
felt betrayed. These men advocated complete annihilation of the Shogunate
to assure it would never rise again, and felt that Ryoma was a traitor. But
Ryoma convinced one of his more level-headed friends, Goto Shojiro, who was
a close aide to Yamanouchi Yodo, the influential Lord of Tosa, to urge Yodo
to endorse the plan. Meanwhile, Ryoma continued to run guns for the revolutionaries,
because he knew that the only way to convince the Shogun to abdicate would
be to demonstrate that his only alternative was military annihilation, which,
of course, was no alternative at all. Lord Yodo took Goto's advice and sent
Ryoma's plan to the Shogun, as if it were his own brainchild. Eleven days
later, on October 14, 1867, in the Grand Hall of Nijo Castle in Kyoto, as
Satsuma and Choshu hastened their final war plans, the Shogun announced his
abdication before his adversaries had the chance to strike.
With the overthrow of the corrupt and decrepit Tokugawa regime, the "nobody"
from Tosa had made good on his vow to "clean up Japan" - although,
unfortunately for his country, he would pay for it with his life. Sakamoto
Ryoma was assassinated one month later, on November 15, his thirty-second
birthday, in the second-story room in the house of a wealthy soy dealer in
Kyoto which he used as a hideout.
Equally unfortunate for Ryoma's country was that cleaning up Japan "once
and for all" proved to be too long a period of time, even for a genius
like Ryoma. This is why, amidst the rampant corruption in Japanese business
circles today, many people in Japan have expressed their wish that a leader
of Ryoma's caliber would somehow miraculously emerge. A couple years ago executives
of 200 Japanese corporations were asked by Asahi Shimbun, a national
daily newspaper, the question: "Who from the past millennium of world
history would be most useful in overcoming Japan's current financial crisis?"
Sakamoto Ryoma received more mention than any other historical figure, topping
such giants as Thomas Edison, Leonardo da Vinci, Saigo Takamori, Oda Nobunaga
and the founders of NEC and Honda. Evidently many Japanese people today think
their country needs a good scrubbing once again.
Romulus Hillsborough is the author of RYOMA - Life of a Renaissance Samurai (Ridgeback Press, 1999) and Samurai Sketches: From the Bloody Final Years of the Shogun (Ridgeback Press, 2001) RYOMA is the only biographical novel of Sakamoto Ryoma in the English language. Samurai Sketches is a collection of historical sketches, never before presented in English, depicting men and events during the revolutionary years of mid-19th century Japan. Reviews and more information about these books are available at www.ridgebackpress.com.