The Quest for Civilization
Encounters with Dutch Jurisprudence, Political Economy, and Statistics at the Dawn of Modern Japan
By
Ōkubo Takeharu
Translated by
David Noble
LEIDEN | BOSTON
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Takeharu, Okubo. [Kindai Nihon no seiji koso to Oranda. English] The quest for civilization : encounters with Dutch jurisprudence, political economy, and statistics at the dawn of modern Japan / by Okubo Takeharu ; translated by David Noble. pages cm Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-90-04-24536-5 (hardback : alk. paper) 1. Political science--Japan--History--19th century. 2. Japan--Civilization--Dutch influences. I. Title.
JA84.J3O38713 2014 320.0952’09034--dc23
2014020024
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This book is printed on acid-free paper. Contents
Acknowledgments vii Preface to the English Edition ix
Introduction 1 1 Seeking the Bridge between Edo and Meiji Japan 1 2 The Study Mission to the Netherlands of Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi 19
1 The Dutch Constitution of 1848 and the Meiji Restoration 36 1 Dutch Jurisprudence and the Development of Constitutional Thought 36 2 Vissering’s Legal World: Natural Law, Historical Jurisprudence, and Liberal Reform 40 3 The Dutch Constitution of 1848 and Taisei kokuhō ron 50 4 The Sorai School and the Reexamination of Confucianism 57 5 Nishi Amane’s “Gidai sōan”: A New Concept of Government 64 6 The Founding of the Meirokusha and the Birth of a New Knowledge 74
2 The Rise of Statistical Thinking in Meiji Japan 80 1 The Beginning of Statistical Studies in Japan 80 2 Fukuzawa Yukichi’s Outline of a Theory of Civilization 86 3 The Intellectual World of Tsuda Mamichi’s Hyōki teikō: Dutch Statistical Administration and the Leiden University Lecture Notes 97 4 Sugi Kōji’s Proposal for a Central Statistical Bureau and the Political Crisis of 1881 113
3 Dutch Political Economy and Nishi Amane’s Philosophical Encounter with Utilitarianism 127 1 Political Economy as the Twin Sister of Statistics 127 2 The Lectures on Political Economy and Aiseiyō no michi 132 3 Mill’s Utilitarianism and the Deepening of Nishi Amane’s Political Philosophy 155
4 International Law and the Quest for Civilization 178 1 International Law and the Opening of Japan 178 2 The Place of International Law in Vissering’s Curriculum: Law, Civilization, Practice 183 3 Transcripts of the Leiden University Lectures in Diplomatic History and the Study of International Law in the Netherlands 187 4 The Intellectual World of Vissering’s Lectures on International Law 193 5 Two Views of International Law: Vissering and Wheaton 211 6 Debates in the Meiroku zasshi 223 7 Regarding Asia: Tsuda Mamichi and the Sino-Japanese Treaty of Amity 247
Conclusion 254 1 Philosophy and Utilitarianism 257 2 International Law and the Vicissitudes of Foreign Policy 259 3 The Establishment of Constitutional Government 263 4 Legacy for a New Generation 267
Bibliography 273 Index 289
My research work has been concerned, from the broader perspective of world history, with cultural contact between East Asia and Europe, focusing more specifically on the relations between Japan and the Netherlands. In the prepa- ration of this English edition I have received support and encouragement from many scholars and friends in both Japan and the Netherlands, and I would like to take this opportunity to express my gratitude to them all. The original Japanese edition, Kindai Nihon no seiji kōsō to Oranda, pub- lished by University of Tokyo Press in October 2010, was based on my doctoral dissertation in political science, submitted in 2004 to the Graduate School of Social Sciences at Tokyo Metropolitan University. I would like to give heartfelt thanks to my advisor, Professor Miyamura Haruo. Professor Wim Boot of Leiden University has provided unstinting support for the publication of this translation. Since 1999, I have traveled every sum- mer and winter to the Netherlands to pursue my archival research. From April 2011 to March 2013, I was granted a sabbatical leave from Meiji University, where I was teaching at the time, in order to spend two years doing research at the International Institute for Asian Studies in Leiden. I have learned much from my conversations with Professor Boot and his broad mastery of subjects ranging from the Western classical tradition to Asian intellectual history. David Noble undertook the difficult task of translating a scholarly work from Japanese into English—a matter not only of finding equivalent vocabu- lary and concepts but also of dealing with considerable differences in style and logical presentation. Mr Noble has been patient in listening to my requests and has produced a fine translation, for which I am very grateful. Professor Watanabe Hiroshi, who first introduced me to Mr Noble, has been energetically supportive of this publication. Professor Watanabe, who has pub- lished the results of his research in the history of Japanese political thought not only in Japan but also in other Asian countries, in the United States, and in Europe, taught me the importance of addressing a global audience. Professor Kate Nakai has given me much valuable advice and encouragement as I tack- led the daunting task of preparing my first translated publication. During my stays in the Netherlands, I was much indebted to the faculty of Leiden University. The journey toward this book began with the enthusiastic encouragement I received from Professor Willem Otterspeer, leading author- ity on Dutch intellectual history, to publish this work in English. The recom- mendation I received from a scholar I hold in such high regard was a great
Ōkubo Takeharu Tokyo, March 2014
From the perspective of world history, Japan is regarded as unique among the East Asian nations for the speed with which it met the challenge of moderniza- tion and Westernization. A major impetus behind Japan’s embarkation upon the modernization process in the nineteenth century was of course the arrival of the “black ships”: a squadron of four United States Navy warships under Commodore Mathew C. Perry that appeared in the waters of Uraga Bay (near present-day Yokosuka) in 1853 bearing an official letter from President Fillmore demanding commercial intercourse with the Japanese. The Tokugawa shogu- nate, at the time the national government of Japan, had for more than two centuries pursued a policy of sakoku, or “national seclusion,” that strictly lim- ited travel and trade to and from the country. Yet Perry’s arrival brought about a series of treaties of amity and commerce with the Western powers and an irrevocable transformation of the world of Tokugawa Japan. The first two ports opened to foreign vessels were Shimoda and Hakodate, followed a few years later by four more, Kanagawa, Nagasaki, Niigata, and Hyōgo. Less than fifteen years later, following the outbreak of the brief Boshin Civil War of 1868–69, a regime that had endured for more than 250 years rapidly collapsed. The “open- ing of Japan” (kaikoku 開国), as it was called, was an event that had shaken Japanese society to its foundations.1 Thus in 1868 a new government was established—in a process described as the Meiji Restoration, or the Meiji Revolution.2 Led by this new government, Japan embarked on the path of building a modern nation-state, learning
1 I certainly do not wish to underestimate the significance of the unique developments in thought or in the political and economic structures of the individual nations of China, Japan, and Korea. Nor should we ignore the various conditions for change that had taken shape before this time. I am not suggesting that it was the so-called “Western impact” alone that signaled the advent of modernity in East Asia. Yet I also believe that commencement of full- scale diplomatic and trade relations with the Western world was a primary catalyst for the fundamental transformation of nineteenth-century Japan. 2 The historical developments from the collapse of the Tokugawa regime through the Boshin Civil War to the establishment of the Meiji government, including the various political reforms inaugurated by the new government, are known in Japanese as the Meiji ishin 明治 維新, a term frequently translated into English as the Meiji Restoration. However, some recent studies have drawn attention to the revolutionary character of this moment in Japanese history, and prefer to call it the Meiji Revolution. See, for example, Watanabe Hiroshi, Nihon seiji shisōshi: 17–19 seiki, translated into English by David Noble, A History of Japanese Political Thought: 1600–1901, Preface and Chapter 19.
established by the Tokugawa shogunate in response to the arrival of Perry, who were responsible for the most dramatic expansion and diffusion of knowledge concerning the Western disciplines of law, politics, and economics at the dawn of Japan’s modern era. Their activities were rooted in the traditions and accu- mulated knowledge of Rangaku. Among these activities, the study mission to the Netherlands of two of these young scholars, Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi, might be described as truly epochal. They were sent to the university town of Leiden in 1862 as the first students dispatched to Europe by the Tokugawa shogunate. There, they studied for two years under the supervision of Simon Vissering, who gave them personal instruction in a five-course cur- riculum in natural law, international law, constitutional law, political economy, and statistics. Vissering, a professor in the Faculty of Law at Leiden University, was one of the leading Dutch political economists of the nineteenth century. Nishi and Tsuda thereby became the first Japanese to study abroad in Europe and to receive direct, systematic, comprehensive instruction from a prominent scholar in the mechanisms of European law, political institutions, and economics. On their return to Japan, Nishi and Tsuda translated into Japanese the lec- ture notes they had taken during their studies overseas, and worked actively to introduce European legal systems and social sciences to Japan. At the same time, they also participated, as personal advisors to the last Tokugawa shogun, in attempts to devise a new political order and thus forestall the collapse of the shogunate. After the Meiji Restoration, they joined Fukuzawa Yukichi and oth- ers in forming the Meirokusha (Meiji Six Society), a voluntary association of scholars whose goals were to create a public sphere for open debate concerning social problems and for the dissemination of knowledge to the general public. In the process, they devised words to translate such concepts as “philosophy” (tetsugaku 哲学) and “civil law” (minpō 民法)—some of which are still in com- mon use not only in twenty-first century Japan, but in China as well. And finally, employed as officials of the new Meiji government, Nishi and Tsuda made a variety of contributions to domestic and foreign policy, including the negotiation of Japan’s first modern treaty with Qing China. Nishi and Tsuda’s study in the Netherlands can certainly be seen as a culmi- nation of the Rangaku tradition, which had concentrated on the physical sci- ences; but it was also the point of departure for an entirely new effort in modern Japan to assimilate the Western social sciences. After this, many Japanese intellectuals and politicians would travel overseas to study in Britain, Germany, France, the United States, and other countries, acquiring knowledge of Western political and economic systems and legal institutions and putting that knowledge to work in the construction of the modern Japanese state.
In the process, they would reexamine and reevaluate traditional East Asian culture and its world order, seeking a pathway for Japan’s survival as a nation in the context of global international society. Nishi and Tsuda’s experience of study in the Netherlands was one of the sources of this endeavor on the part of the Japanese. It would be no exaggeration to say that this is where it all began. Moreover, their academic and political activity after returning to Japan made immense contributions to Japan’s nation-building efforts and to the develop- ment of scholarship. Along with Fukuzawa Yukichi, Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi should be remembered as intellectuals who played leading roles in laying the foundations of modern Japan. At least as far as Nishi is concerned, this has been acknowledged in the English-speaking world by the excellent work of Thomas R.H. Havens and Richard Minear. However, previous research has done little to clarify exactly what it was that Nishi and Tsuda learned under the tutelage of Professor Vissering in Leiden. As yet there has been little attention devoted to a basic investigation of the source materials that would give us insight into the content of their studies in the Netherlands or indeed the influence that this might have exerted upon the process of Japan’s modernization. This study is an effort to shed light upon the hidden history of intellectual relations between nineteenth-century Japan and the Netherlands, utilizing a variety of primary source materials that have been preserved at Leiden University Library. Specifically, it is an analysis of the experience of Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi in their studies in the Netherlands and, after their return home, of the roles they played in the modernization of Japan, with ref- erence to their close relations and heated debates with other contemporary intellectuals, such as Fukuzawa Yukichi, Nakamura Masanao, Ōkuma Shigenobu, Itō Hirobumi, and Nakae Chōmin. The importation of Dutch juris- prudence, political science, and statistics marks the beginning of the adoption of the European social sciences in Japan. By clarifying the nature and influence of these disciplines I will endeavor to elucidate the origins of the modern Japanese state and the birth of the political thought that shaped it—the major underlying theme of this research. The opening of the country was at the same time an opening of the door to modernity. But what was the nature of Japan’s encounter with the world once these doors had opened? As it began to assimilate European scholarship and new concepts of law and economics, what changes did Japanese political and moral thought undergo? How did these changes affect existing modes of schol- arship and political culture? How were the vocabulary and thought of Confucianism, of Kokugaku (the study of Japanese classical literature and ancient culture), and of other traditions, reevaluated? What influence did this
If we remember that theoretical originality is not the hallmark of normal science, the historian of political theory who ignores the dilative work of the under-laborers has closed off a whole range of questions, the most
3 Miyamura Haruo, Kaikoku keiken no shisōshi, 285–286.
interesting of which is: what sort of intellectual operations occur when a political theory is put to work in circumstances different from those which inspired it?4
In what forms were the political theories and legal institutions of modern Europe transmitted to nineteenth-century Asia? How did the intellectuals and statesmen of the non-Western world take up the intellectual challenge of the West, and how did they respond to the international political situation of their day, which confronted them with the threat posed by the Western powers? They engaged in a conscious and committed effort to understand the theories and thought of the West by translating—and sometimes mistranslating— them into their own idioms, using the tools provided by their own intellectual traditions. And as the existing international order and its morality were shaken to their core and lost the aura of self-evident truth, these intellectuals and statesmen searched for the possibility of a new politics and ethics to replace them. European political theory, divorced from the intent and expectations of its creators, was reread and reinterpreted within the context of late- nineteenth-century Japanese society. It was upon this intellectual enterprise that the thinkers and statesmen of Japan sought to base their efforts to respond to the practical political issues of their time. Their words and actions would shape this political reality, and result in the construction of a modern state— which in turn would profoundly influence the formation of a new interna- tional order in East Asia. Thus the opening of Japan set the stage for one of the most fascinating experiments in the history of political thought. For the history of political thought is not limited to the discussion of the great “original” thinkers such as Machiavelli or Hobbes. One can also read widely in primary source materials and delve deeply into the political thought of the disparate societies of Europe, Japan, and East Asia in an effort to understand it in cross-cultural perspective. It is with such methodological concerns that this book will revisit the hith- erto largely unexamined details of the experience of Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi during their study abroad in the Netherlands, examining it as one of the early encounters in modern Japan’s intellectual confrontation with the Western world. This will also provide the material for a broader consideration of the process of Japan’s metamorphosis into a modern state and nation by situating it within the larger global currents of the history of nineteenth- century political thought.
4 Sheldon Wolin, “Paradigms and Political Theories,” 142.
Accordingly, I hope this book will be of value not only to readers interested in Japan, but also to those engaged in related fields ranging from the history of law, political economy, and statistics to European political thought, Asian stud- ies, trans-cultural studies, and more. The title of this book is “The Quest for Civilization.” But this should not be understood as signifying European civilization—or, for that matter, Chinese or Japanese civilization—in particular. My main theme is to elucidate the radical exploration undertaken by late nineteenth-century Japanese intellectuals in search of the universal principles of civilization in the midst of their experi- ence of the cross-cultural contact between Asia and Europe. At the same time, I hope by looking through the eyes of these strangers in a foreign land—the young Japanese intellectuals Nishi and Tsuda—to offer a new perspective on nineteenth-century European and Dutch intellectual history, and on the work of a number of intellectuals whose names are now almost forgotten in Europe itself. The book begins with an Introduction that outlines the issues under consid- eration, followed by four closely interrelated substantive chapters, which, taken as a whole, are intended to offer a historical narrative from the opening of Japan in the mid-1850s to the establishment of the Meiji constitutional order at the end of the nineteenth century. Chapter 1 is concerned with Vissering’s lectures on natural and constitu- tional law. It considers the theory of constitutional monarchy that Vissering taught to Nishi and Tsuda within the political and academic context of the Netherlands at that time, when liberalism was the order of the day. It then examines Nishi’s reconfiguration of the tradition of Confucian thought, and his proposal, as an advisor to the last Tokugawa shogun, for innovative institu- tional reforms in the midst of the turmoil preceding the collapse of the shogunate. Chapter 2 analyzes Vissering’s lectures on statistics and, focusing on Nishi and Tsuda’s scholarly activities in this field, examines the relevance of statistics to government administration and to the engagement of the late-nineteenth- century Japanese intelligentsia with the Western social sciences. At the time, Japan was in the grip of what has been described as a “statistical fever,” fasci- nated by this new science of civilization. In this context, comparison will be made between Fukuzawa Yukichi’s principal work, Bunmeiron no gairyaku (Outline of a Theory of Civilization), and the concept of statistics taught in Vissering’s lectures and introduced to Japan by Nishi and Tsuda. This is fol- lowed by a look at the influence of Vissering’s lectures on the statistical admin- istration of the Meiji state, as well as a little-known drama of intellectual history that played out behind the scenes of the political crisis of 1881.
Chapter 3 investigates Vissering’s lectures on political economy, with par- ticular reference to their influence on the development of Nishi’s perspective on philosophy. In addition to being a government official and opinion leader, Nishi was a pioneering figure in the development of the discipline of philoso- phy in modern Japan. Vissering’s lectures on political economy were based on his own Handboek van praktische staathuishoudkund (Handbook of Practical Political Economy), a leading example of late-nineteenth-century Dutch schol- arship. In the course of these lectures, Nishi and Tsuda learned Vissering’s per- spective on the fundamental principles driving the advance of civilization. After returning to Japan, Nishi would deepen his inquiry in this field, delving into the positivist philosophy of Auguste Comte and the utilitarianism of John Stuart Mill. In the process, he also subjected the Confucian-centered philoso- phy and worldview of traditional East Asia to a direct and searching reexami- nation. This chapter traces the intellectual trajectory Nishi followed in his efforts to create a new political philosophy and morality. Finally, in Chapter 4, we examine Vissering’s lectures on international law, which formed the core of the five-course curriculum. At the same time, we consider the ways in which Nishi and Tsuda used what they learned from Vissering in their quest for a new path for the advancement of civilization in Japan. The opening of the country had suddenly thrust late-nineteenth- century Japan into a web of relations with the Western nations, and as a result European international law was a topic of particularly urgent concern—one that raised the normative philosophical question, “What is Europe?” Nishi and Tsuda were literally the first Japanese to go to Europe, systematically study international law, and pioneer its introduction to Japan. In addition to using this knowledge to publicly express views on a variety of foreign policy issues, Tsuda in particular was involved in treaty negotiations between the Meiji state and other countries. This chapter delves into the debates of Nishi and Tsuda with other contemporary figures such as Fukuzawa Yukichi and Nakamura Masanao, illuminating the contradictions and conflict experienced by Japanese intellectuals of this era as they attempted to reconcile theories of international relations, foreign policy, and civilization. This in turn will provide insight into the ways in which their perspective on the Western and East Asian worlds were shaped by this process. In the Conclusion, I reexamine the role played by Nishi and Tsuda in the construction of the modern state in nineteenth-century Japan and their con- tributions to the development of scholarship. By clarifying the philosophical questions facing them at the outset of Japan’s modern journey, the true nature of the difficult political issues Japan would carry with it into the future are highlighted. I then devote the final portion of the book to a consideration of
[Nature did not] give the same talents either in kind or in degree to all, evidently meaning that the inequality of her gifts should be ultimately equalized by a reciprocal interchange of good offices and mutual assis- tance. Thus, in different countries, she has caused different commodities to be produced, that expediency itself might introduce commercial intercourse. desiderius erasmus, The Complaint of Peace1
1 Seeking the Bridge between Edo and Meiji Japan
It was the year 1598 when the good ship De Liefde set sail from the port of Rotterdam in the company of her sister ships De Hoop, Het Geloof, De Trouw and De Blijde Boodschap. The sternpost of De Liefde is said to have been deco- rated with a wood carving in the image of Desiderius Erasmus, the humanist scholar and author of an impassioned appeal for peace and cooperation at the beginning of the sixteenth century in Europe. This little fleet met with a variety of misfortunes, and De Liefde alone, after navigating the Strait of Magellan and surviving a terrible storm encountered in the middle of the Pacific, eventually found refuge on the shores of Bungo Province in Japan in 1600 (Keichō 5). Among the crew of De Liefde were the Dutch second mate, Jan Joosten van Lodensteyn, and the English pilot William Adams, both of whom would become highly valued advisers on foreign affairs to Tokugawa Ieyasu, founder of the Tokugawa shogunate.2 The arrival of De Liefde in Japanese waters thus commenced the history of relations between Japan and the Netherlands.
1 Desiderius Erasmus, Querela Pacis, translated into English by Thomas Paynell, The Complaint of Peace, 22. 2 William Adams and Jan Joosten were treated very generously by Tokugawa Ieyasu, whom they served diligently as diplomatic and commercial advisers. In particular, Adams was granted an estate in Hemi on the Miura Peninsula in Sagami Province (now the city of Yokosuka in Kanagawa Prefecture), and took the Japanese name Miura Anjin (“the pilot of Miura”). Later, in 1613, an English vessel, The Clove, arrived in Japan bearing an official letter from King James I. With Adams’s assistance, this became the occasion for the opening of an English trading station at Hirado in Nagasaki. Yet commercial relations between England and Tokugawa Japan did not continue for long. With the Amboyna massacre in 1623, relations between the Netherlands and England deteriorated. This, coupled with a general
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At the time, the Netherlands was laying the foundations for its Golden Age as a newly risen maritime empire that rivaled the established powers of Spain and Portugal. The provinces of Holland, Zeeland, Groningen, Friesland, Utrecht, Overijssel, and Gelderland had formed a confederation during the Eighty Years’ War (1568–1648) against Spain. In 1602, the Dutch East India Company was established, and in 1648 the independence of the Republic of the United Netherlands was acknowledged in the terms of the Peace of Westphalia. Meanwhile, the Tokugawa shogunate was choosing to favor the new Dutch Republic as its sole trading partner among the nations of the West, having forbidden Spanish ships from calling at Japanese ports in 1624 (Kan’ei 1) and issuing a similar ban on Portuguese vessels in 1639 (Kan’ei 16). Thereafter, the shogunate implemented a policy prohibiting maritime travel to and from Japan (kaikin 海禁)—a policy that would later come to be known as sakoku 鎖国 (the closing of the country) and would remain in place for some two cen- turies.3 Exceptions were made, however, for the trade conducted at Nagasaki with China and the Netherlands; by the domain of Tsushima with Korea; by the domain of Satsuma with the kingdom of Ryukyu; and by the domain of Matsumae with the Ainu peoples of Ezo. Dutch vessels calling at the desig- nated Dutch trading post on the artificial island of Dejima in Nagasaki harbor brought a variety of imports to Japan, including European woolens, chintz and other cotton textiles, woven silks, refined sugar, aromatic woods, spices, and medicines. They also brought glassware, mechanical clocks, and devices such as telescopes. The overseas news collected from the Dutch trading vessels was compiled into documents known as Oranda fūsetsugaki (Dutch reports) that served the Tokugawa regime as a valuable source of intelligence on world affairs. The regular journeys to Edo by the Oranda kapitan (the head of the Dutch East India Company factory at Nagasaki) and his retinue to deliver gifts to and have an audience with the shogun provided a rare opportunity for ordi- nary people to see Westerners with their own eyes. Along with imported goods and foreign news, the Dutch ships also brought scholarly treatises on medicine, astronomy, pharmacology, and other scientific
depression of trade, led to the closure of the English station at Hirado—and a subsequent hiatus in diplomatic and commercial relations between Britain and Japan of more than two hundred years, until the middle of the nineteenth century. 3 See Ronald P. Toby, State and Diplomacy in Early Modern Japan, and “Sakoku” to iu gaiko. For the origins and connotations of the term sakoku, see Wim J. Boot, “Shizuki Tadao’s Sakoku- ron,” in Critical Readings in the Intellectual History of Early Modern Japan; Hiraishi Naoaki, Nihon seiji shisōshi; Shizuki Tadao Botsugo 200-nen Kinen Kokusai Symposium Jikkō Iinkai, ed., Rangaku no frontier; Ōshima Akihide, “Sakoku” to iu gensetsu.
Sitting down in front of the text of Tafel Anatomia for the first time was truly like setting forth on a great ocean voyage in a ship without a rudder. The prospect was vast and offered no safe haven; one could only stare ahead in wonder and amazement.5
4 Sugita Genpaku, Rangaku kotohajime, 31. 5 Ibid., 37–38.
The trail to Japan’s assimilation of Western learning was blazed by such pioneering figures and the difficulties and travails that they strove to overcome. For a sketch of one salient aspect of Dutch studies in early modern Japan there is no better source than the following discussion of the West in Ōtsuki Gentaku’s Rangaku kaitei (A Ladder to Dutch Studies), printed in 1788 (Tenmei 8) and described as “the earliest publication intended as a general introduction to the field of Dutch studies.”6 In it, Ōtsuki writes:
It is the national character of all those countries that in every area acces- sible to human ingenuity they have concentrated their minds and poured their energies into a thorough investigation of the quintessential princi- ples underlying all phenomena…Not only in the field of medicine, but also in the various arts of astronomy, geography, surveying, and calendri- cal calculations, many of their methods and explanations involve precise, clear, and subtle presentations of the essential information.7
Similarly, Shiba Kōkan observed that “The countries of Europe practice kakubutsu 格物 (the investigation of things) and kyūri 窮理 (the penetration of principle); they are not given by nature to specious, false, or deluded state- ments.”8 As these statements indicate, the early rangakusha (as scholars of Western learning were called), were grounded in a Confucian conception of scholarship as kakubutsu kyūri (the investigation of things and the penetration of principle; Chinese, gewu qiongli), and they were attracted to the European sciences to the extent that they perceived them as a superior means for pene- trating the principles of everything from medicine, astronomy, and geography to surveying techniques and calendrical computation. At the same time, their encounter with the knowledge and intelligence embodied in the Western sciences also led these men to revise the traditional East Asian worldview, which saw China, the birthplace of the Confucian tradi- tion, as Chūka 中華 (Ch., zhonghwa), the “central flowering” of civilization, and situated the Europeans as barbarians on the periphery of the world order. For example, as early as 1775 (An’ei 4), Sugita Genpaku had abandoned the term Chūka, preferring instead to use Shina 支那, derived from the European word for China, and proclaiming:
6 Matsumura Akira, “Jinbutsu ryakuden · shūsai shomoku kaidai,” 595. 7 Ōtsuki Gentaku, Rangaku kaitei, 332–333. 8 Shiba Kōkan, Oranda tensetsu, 447.
The Way has not been established by the Chinese Saints; it is the Way of Heaven and Earth. Everywhere where sun and moon shine, where rime and dew fall, you have states, you have nations, you have the Way. What is the Way? In essence, it means eliminating evil and promoting the good. If one eliminates evil and promotes the good, then the Way of Human Relationships will manifest itself…Again, following their Chinese books, these corrupt Confucians and quack doctors regard that country as the centre of the Earth. Now, the Earth is one gigantic globe, over which the ten thousand countries are distributed. Wherever they lie, it is always the center. Which country should be the center of the world? Shina (China), too, is but a small country in a corner of the Eastern Ocean.9
According to Genpaku, Confucian pedants and quack doctors who believed “China to be the land of the sages” and looked down on Dutch studies as the pursuit of barbarian learning ran rampant in contemporary Japan, and were completely deluded. In Rangaku kaitei, Ōtsuki Gentaku similarly argued that:
Confucian pedants and quacks have no appreciation of the vastness of the world. Led completely astray by a hodgepodge of Chinese ideas, they mistakenly proclaim China to be Chūgoku [the Central Realm] or speak of Chūka no Michi [the Way of the Central Flowering].10
The knowledge acquired through Dutch Studies provided men such as Ōtsuki with a new vision of the earth as a great globe upon whose surface the coun- tries of the world were distributed more or less evenly. It accelerated the trans- formation of their traditional worldview, relativizing both the veneration for Chinese civilization and the self-glorification of Japan as a “divine nation” by those who wished to assert its superiority over other nations. Moreover, the interest of the rangakusha in the practical details of Western sciences such as medicine, chemistry, and physics gradually turned to a con- cern with the nature of the social institutions that supported those sciences, such as the educational system, hospitals, and the like. In his “Oranda tsūhaku” of 1805 (Bunka 2), Shiba Kōkan observed that:
9 Sugita Genpaku, “Kyōi no gen,” 229–230; translated into English by Wim J. Boot, “The Words of a Mad Doctor,” 51. 10 Ōtsuki, Rangaku kaitei, 339.
The countries of Europe all respect the written word, and their sovereigns have established schools in every province and district; the instructors are selected by examination from among thousands of applicants. Education in the European countries emphasizes kyūri kakubutsu [the penetration of principle and the investigation of things]; one must first master every- thing from astronomy to physiology; individuals who excel and have the desire to do so are taken into government service. Throughout all of these countries there are institutions for the care of widows and orphans; these are called gasthuis. There are also hospitals and poorhouses.11
By the 1830s, scholars such as Watanabe Kazan had emerged who obtained their information on Western political institutions from Dutch sources. In his “Gaikoku jijōsho” of 1839 (Tenpō 10), Watanabe classified Western political sys- tems into three main types: autocracies in which a hereditary monarch monop- olized power; limited or constitutional monarchies; and republics (translated as kyōchikoku 共治国).12 “North America” was cited as a specific example of such a republiek, in which “no sovereign was established, but an individual of wisdom and ability was selected as the chief official, with a hundred lesser officials forming a deliberative assembly for cooperative rule.”13 Regarding relations among the Western nations, Kazan’s perception was that “the European states all assert themselves against one another and are surrounded by rivals; they form alliances and join forces to make war on other lands in a manner almost exactly like that of the Spring and Autumn or the Warring States periods [of ancient China].”14 So we see that despite the limitations of their sources and their knowl- edge—they relied mainly on geographies and gazetteers at this point, in the
11 Shiba Kōkan, Oranda tsūhaku, 504. 12 Watanabe Kazan, “Gaikoku jijōsho,” 24. Watanabe’s understanding of Western political institutions as presented in this text owed much to Pieter J. Prinsen’s Geographische oefeningen, of leerboek der aardijkskunde, second edition (1817), and its translation into Japanese by Koseki Sanei as Shinsen chishi (1836). 13 Watanabe, “Gaikoku jijōsho,” 21. 14 Ibid., 24. For further information on Watanabe Kazan, see the notes and interpretive material provided in the presently cited book; see also Satō Shōsuke’s Yōgakushi kenkyū josetsu and Yōgakushi no kenkyū; and Donald Keene, Frog in the Well. For changing perceptions of the West and the formation and transformation of the worldview of Edo Japan, centering on the rangakusha, see Kawamura Hirotada, Kinsei Nihon no sekaizō and Watanabe Hiroshi, Nihon seiji shisōshi: 17–19 seiki, translated into English by David Noble as A History of Japanese Political Thought: 1600–1901, especially Chapters 17 and 20.
15 Fukuzawa Yukichi, “Rangaku kotohajime saihan no jo” in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 13, 769–771.
Kanda’s find. According to Fukuzawa, he and his friend Mitsukuri Shūhei sat across from one another and read the manuscript repeatedly. Each time they came to the passage about “setting forth on a great ocean voyage in a ship with- out a rudder” they would be overcome by emotion and weep aloud, “aware of the trials and tribulations of our predecessors, amazed at their courage, and conscious of their integrity and commitment.” Later, during “the turmoil accompanying the restoration of imperial rule,” Fukuzawa feared the manu- scripts were in danger of being lost again. Not wanting “the great legacy of this masterwork which our predecessors experienced such trials and tribulations in providing to posterity” to come to naught, Fukuzawa used his own funds to have the work privately printed in order, as he noted in his foreword to the printed edition, to convey “this history of our Western studies” to the “genera- tions yet to come.” Thus the spirit of Rangaku kotohajime and the early Edo rangakusha was preserved and passed on into the Meiji period. As Fukuzawa put it, “A century and more ago, in this great nation of the Orient, Japan, the seeds of Western civilization were already stirring amid the company of schol- ars; the progress we enjoy today is no mere coincidence.” These words of Fukuzawa seem to reveal both pride and a quite personal perspective on civilization. Yet they also give us a glimpse of the diligence with which Fukuzawa and his colleagues such as Kanda Takahira and Mitsukuri Shūhei consciously sought to inherit the pioneering spirit of their predeces- sors in the struggle to master Western learning. This tradition of Rangaku was the foundation of their contributions to the development of modern Japanese scholarship, politics, and society. There have been many superb studies of the reception of Western learning in Japan via the Dutch, with an emphasis on the development of Rangaku as a set of scholarly disciplines centered on medicine, astronomy, pharmacology, and military science. Thus, major work has been done on Aoki Kon’yō’s early studies of the Dutch language; on the translation work of Sugita Genpaku and his colleagues and how it shaped their view of medicine; on the Dutch-style paintings of the Akita school and the milieu that produced them; on Phillip Franz von Siebold and Narutaki-juku, the Western studies academy he estab- lished in Nagasaki; on the scholars Watanabe Kazan and Takano Chōei, their perceptions of the West, and their persecution in the “Bansha no Goku” inci- dent of 1839; on Takashima Shūhan and his studies of Western gunnery and artillery; on the thought of Sakuma Shōzan, and so on. And in recent years, there has been outstanding progress made in furthering our understanding of the role of the Japanese interpreters of Dutch at Nagasaki and the importance of the information contained in the Oranda fūsetsugaki, the reports compiled from news of the outside world brought by the Dutch trading ships. There have
Major Themes and Concerns The beginning of serious efforts in Japan to acquire knowledge regarding European legal systems can be traced back to translation projects initiated by Mizuno Tadakuni, appointed head of the senior council of the Tokugawa sho- gunate in 1839 (Tenpō 10). At his command, the father-and-son team of Sugita Ryūkei and Sugita Seikei of Bansho Wage Goyō, the shogunal translation depart- ment, commenced a translation of the Dutch constitution in 1841 (Tenpō 12). Udagawa Kōsai, also affiliated with the department, produced translations of the Dutch penal code and code of criminal procedure, while Mitsukuri Genpo participated in the translation of the code of civil procedure. As Ōtsuki Joden observed, part of the context for these activities was that “Senior Councilor Mizuno Tadakuni, Lord of Echizen, in an effort to avert the decline of the sho- gunate, set about reforming its more egregious policies. Moreover, deeply con- cerned with foreign affairs, he ordered the translation department of the Bureau of Astronomy to translate Dutch works on politics and military affairs as aids to the formulation of foreign policy measures.”17 Yet as Kanda Takahira later
16 For previous research on historical relations between the Netherlands and Japan and the development and diffusion of Rangaku in the Tokugawa period, see Yōgakushi Gakkai, ed., Symposium on Dutch-Japanese relations in the Edo period; Wim J. Boot, ed., Critical Readings in the Intellectual History of Early Modern Japan, Section 3; Leonard Blusse, Visible Cities; Jan Feenstra Kuiper, Japan en de buitenwereld in de achttiende eeuw; Suzuki Yasuko, Japan-Netherlands Trade 1600–1800; Grant K. Goodman, Japan and the Dutch, 1600–1853; Katagiri Kazuo, Oranda tsūji no kenkyū; Ishida Sumio, ed., Ogata Kōan no Rangaku; Tazaki Tetsurō, ed., Zaison Rangaku no tenkai; Numata Jirō, Shinsōban Yōgaku; Timon Screech, translated by Takayama Hiroshi, Edo no karada o hiraku and Timon Screech, translated by Murayama Kazuhiro, Oranda ga tōru; Aoki Toshiyuki, Zaison Rangaku no kenkyū; Matsukata Fuyuko, Oranda fūsetsugaki to kinsei Nihon; Iwashita Tetsunori, Bakumatsu Nihon no jōhō katsudō; Ishida Chihiro, Nichiran bōeki no kōzō to ten- kai; Imahashi Riko, Akita Ranga no kindai. 17 Ōtsuki Joden, Nihon Yōgaku hennenshi, 478. On the translation of Dutch jurisprudence in the latter half of the nineteenth century Japan, see Fukui Tamotsu, Edo bakufu hensan- butsu kaisetsu hen; Mizuta Yoshio, Seiōhō kotohajime; Frans B. Verwaijen, Early Reception of Western Legal Thought in Japan, 1841–1868.
18 Kanda Takahira, “Senshi Bairi sensei o matsuru no bun, Saiten Kiji,” 4; Ōtsuki Joden, Nihon Yōgaku hennenshi, 496. 19 Nishi Amane, “Nishi-ke furyaku,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 3, 759. 20 Ibid., 762.
For his part, in 1868 (Keiō 4), Tsuda was appointed to the important post of metsuke 目付 (inspector) within the shogunal bureaucracy, from which he made a variety of proposals on national policy. After the Meiji Restoration, both men won posts within the new government bureaucracy and were also active in the Meirokusha 明六社 (Meiji Six Society), an influential group of intellectuals and opinion leaders founded in 1874. Meanwhile, they were hard at work translating the notes they had accumulated from Vissering’s lectures (taken originally in Dutch) and publishing them as a series of books: Seihō set- suyaku 性法説約 (Lectures on Natural Law) in 1879; Bankoku kōhō 万国公法 (Lectures on International Law) in 1868; Taisei kokuhō ron 泰西国法論 (Lectures on Constitutional Law) in 1868; and Hyōki teikō 表紀提綱 (Lectures on Statistics) in 1874. As will be described in greater detail later, the knowledge acquired by Nishi and Tsuda during their sojourn in the Netherlands had an immense impact on their colleagues at the Bansho Shirabesho: Katō Hiroyuki, Sugi Kōji, Kanda Takahira, and others. Moreover, the activities of Nishi and Tsuda after their return to Japan would exert a lasting influence on the creation of the Meiji state and on the development of scholarship in modern Japan. Their study abroad in the Netherlands represented not only the culmination of early modern Rangaku, with its focus on the natural sciences such as medicine, but also the point of departure for the assimilation of the Western social sciences that would unfold during the Meiji period and afterward. Yet existing research, while acknowledging the importance of Nishi and Tsuda’s studies in the Netherlands, even to the extent of dubbing Vissering “the father of modern Japanese juris- prudence,” has not attempted a full-scale explication of what they learned from him, based on a careful survey of the available primary source material.21
21 For an overview of the reception of Dutch jurisprudence in Japan, see Robert Feenstra, “Contacten op juridisch gebied tussen Nederland en Japan in 2e helft van de 19e eeuw”; Verwaijen, Early Reception of Western Legal Thought in Japan, 1841–1868. For previous studies of Vissering, see Watanabe Yogorō, Simon Vissering kenkyū; Nishikawa Shunsaku and Onno Steenbeck, “Vissering no keizaigaku to tōkeigaku”; Sakai Yūkichi, “Vissering to Taisei kokuhō ron no rekishiteki ichi”; Taoka Ryōichi, “Nishi Shūsuke Bankoku kohō”; Nagao Ryūichi, “Furon Vissering to shizenhō.” However, previous research in both Japan and the Netherlands has almost completely failed to directly address the books and manuscripts that embodied Vissering’s scholarly thought and would form the foundation of Vissering’s five-course curriculum, nor has there been an effort to elucidate his work by placing it within the larger context of con- temporary Dutch thought. For previous studies of Nishi Amane, see Thomas R. H. Havens, Nishi Amane and Modern Japanese Thought; Richard H. Minear, Japanese Tradition and Western Law and
Prompted by a concern with these issues, the principal goal of this book is to depict the formation and development of modern Japanese political thought by elucidating the nature and influence of the importation, via the Dutch, of such disciplines as jurisprudence, political science, political economy and sta- tistics during the late Tokugawa and early Meiji periods. Specifically, I will focus my investigation on the foreign study experience of Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi during this crucial period of change. I will provide a systematic explication of the material that Nishi and Tsuda learned in their five-part course of study, including an examination of the published works and manu- script notes of Vissering, and a look at trends in nineteenth-century thought in the Netherlands. I will then assess the significance of Nishi and Tsuda’s schol- arly activities, offering comparisons to other contemporary intellectuals such as Fukuzawa Yukichi and Nakamura Masanao. Finally, I will examine how Nishi and Tsuda’s works were inherited and the study of Western jurisprudence was deepened by the following generation of scholars.
Principal Subjects and Approach of this Research Broadly speaking, the research presented in this book has two principal subjects. The first is the group of scholars associated with the Bansho Shirabesho: Nishi Amane, Tsuda Mamichi, Katō Hiroyuki, Sugi Kōji, Kanda Takahira, and others. These men were the advocates of a new type of knowledge, one that had arisen in response to the destabilizing impact of the West on the existing political order and on traditional systems of scholarship and thought. Seeking both to overcome the crisis in Japan’s foreign relations and to achieve a reor- dering of an increasingly fluid and unstable domestic political situation, they became deeply interested in Western political systems and European concep- tions of international law. As they were not originally direct vassals of the shogun, the employment of these scholars by the Bansho Shirabesho circum- vented the traditional paths of advancement within the shogunal bureaucracy. Moreover, their advice was being sought by officials at the highest levels of the Tokugawa regime. Their activities not only produced an apparent shift in the
“Nishi Amane and the Reception of Western Law in Japan”; Hasunuma Keisuke, Nishi Amane ni okeru tetsugaku no seirutsu; Koizumi Takashi, Nishi Amane to Ōbei shisō tono deai; Minamoto Ryōen, Tokugawa gōrishugi shisō no keifu; Shimane Kenritsu Daigaku Nishi Amane Kenkyūkai, ed., Nishi Amane to Nihon no kindai; Sugawara Hikaru, Nishi Amane no seiji shisō; Shimizu Takichi, Nishi Amane: Heiba no ken wa izuko ni ariya. Previous studies of Tsuda Mamichi include Ōkubo Toshiaki, ed., Tsuda Mamichi: Kenkyū to denki. Regarding Nishi’s and Tsuda’s ideas on political economy, see Sugiyama Chūhei, Meiji keimōki no keizai shisō.
22 Representative examples are Yoshino Sakuzō, “Wagakuni kindaishi ni okeru seiji ishiki no hassei,” 288; and Uete Michiari, Kindai Nihon no keisei, 116.
23 Uete, Kindai Nihon no keisei, 111–196. 24 Nishi Amane, “Seihō, bankoku kōhō, kokuhō, seisangaku, seihyō, kuketsu,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 142. 25 Albert M. Craig, Civilization and Enlightenment; Matsuzawa Hiroaki, Kindai Nihon no keisei to seiyō keiken; Anzai Toshizō, Fukuzawa Yukichi to seiō shisō.
But the fatigue of my legs was nothing compared with the bitter disap- pointment in my heart. I had been striving with all my powers for many years to learn the Dutch language. And now…I found that I could not even read the signs of merchants who had come to trade with us from foreign lands. It was a bitter disappointment…26
26 Fukuzawa Yukichi, Fuku-ō jiden, in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 7, 81; translated into English by Eiichi Kiyooka and Carmen Blacker, The Autobiography of Yukichi Fukuzawa, 98.
This deep chagrin was not something that Fukuzawa alone experienced; it was probably shared by the majority of his contemporaries who had acquired some expertise in Dutch studies. In fact, by about 1856 (Ansei 3), Nishi Amane had already taken lessons in English pronunciation from Nakahama Manjirō and was reading mainly English books.27 The background to this was of course the massive shift in the international environment that had occurred during the nearly two hundred years that Tokugawa Japan had maintained its strict regulations on maritime traffic to and from Japan. The Republic of the United Netherlands had enjoyed a golden age as a maritime power during the seventeenth century, but after debilitating wars with France and England, and with the rising powers of Prussia and Russia to contend with, its presence and influence began to wane. Finally, in 1794, the onslaught of French armies brought an end to the Dutch Republic. After a period in which it was a French satellite, first as the Batavian Republic and then as the Kingdom of Holland, it was briefly annexed into the territory of the France. With the collapse of the Napoleonic empire, it freed itself once again from French rule and a new United Kingdom of the Netherlands was established with Willem I as monarch. But the days of Dutch glory had receded into the past. Fukuzawa’s experiences in Yokohama and Nishi’s English- language studies were prescient and sensitive responses to this historical shift. Even so, in the same passage in which Nishi spoke of “reading mainly English books,” he acknowledged that “my teacher [Tezuka Ritsuzō] has a copy of Holtrop’s Dutch and English Dictionary, upon which my efforts are largely dependent.” Thus, for many of the first generation of Western-studies intellec- tuals in the Meiji era such as Nishi Amane and Fukuzawa Yukichi, who went on to play an active part in the Meirokusha and other organizations, Dutch stud- ies would continue to occupy a special status as the route by which they first made contact with the European world. Nishi and Tsuda’s study voyage to the Netherlands in 1862 epitomized this. Later, with the opening of the country and the Meiji Restoration, there was an influx of English, French, German, and American works on political science and jurisprudence, while at the same time there were increased opportunities for actually traveling to the West and experiencing it first hand. Certainly this
27 Nishi, “Nishi-ke furyaku,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 3, 734. Nakahama Manjirō was a young fisherman from Tosa (now Kōchi Prefecture) whose boat was blown out to sea in a typhoon in 1841. Rescued by a passing American ship, he was educated in the United States. After being returned to Japan in 1851 he served the domain of Tosa and the Tokugawa shogunate as an interpreter and translator, contributing to the diffusion of knowledge of the English language.
28 Matono Hansuke, Etō Nanpaku, vol. 2, 107. 29 For previous studies focusing on the reception of Western scholarship and thought in the historical process leading to the establishment of the Constitution of the Empire of Japan, see Takii Kazuhiro, Bunmei no naka no Meiji kenpō, translated into English by David Noble as The Meiji Constitution; Takii Kazuhiro, Doitsu kokkagaku to Meiji kokusei; and Yamamuro Shin’ichi, Hōsei kanryō no jidai.
2 The Study Mission to the Netherlands of Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi
Immediately across the street from SieboldHuis, the former residence of Philip Franz von Sielbold (now a museum of his collection of Japanese objects and artifacts), on a street corner facing Leiden University across the beautiful Rapenburg canal flowing through the center of the city, stands the house in which Simon Vissering once lived, which Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi visited regularly to receive private instruction. Beside the entrance is an inscribed plaque placed there by the city of Tsuyama in Okayama Prefecture and the town of Tsuwano in Shimane Prefecture that reads (in Japanese and English, but not in Dutch!):
The House of Professor S. Vissering where Tsuda Mamichi (津田真道) and Nishi Amane (西周) studied Western law systems from 1863 to 1865. 日本国津山市•津和野町, 1997 Tsuyama and Tsuwano, Japan
In Japan, to this day, Vissering is often referred to as the jurist who instructed Nishi and Tsuda in the nature of Western legal systems. But who exactly was this Professor Vissering in the context of the Netherlands in the nineteenth century? What did he do? What was his field of specialization as a scholar and researcher? And how exactly did Nishi and Tsuda, scholars 0f the Bansho Shirabesho in Edo, come to study with him in Leiden? Let us begin with a brief consideration of the establishment of the Bansho Shirabesho and the careers of Nishi and Tsuda prior to their journey overseas. The creation of the Bansho Shirabesho蕃書調所 (Institute for the Study of Barbarian Books) was occasioned by the appearance of Perry’s squadron of “black ships” in the waters off Uraga, at the mouth of Edo Bay. It was conceived as a research and educational institute for Western studies under the direct
30 For the Bansho Shirabesho, see Hara Heizō, “Bansho shirabesho no sōsetsu”; Numata Jirō, Bakumatsu Yōgakushi. 31 Miyazaki Fumiko, “Bansho Shirabesho · Kaiseijo ni okeru baishin shiyō mondai,” 149.
There is very little documentary evidence for the development of Nishi’s thought during his early years in Tsuwano, apart from one well-known source: a brief text written in the spring of 1848, immediately after receiving the order, in which he expresses his aspirations as a Confucian scholar.32 In this text, Nishi explains that he was born and raised in Tsuwano domain, where, he writes, the school of Neo-Confucianism “having its source in Master Yamazaki Ansai” was regarded as sacred teaching. From boyhood he had been taught that “the Cheng brothers and Zhu Xi [the founders of Neo-Confucianism in China] had inherited the orthodox teachings of Confucius and Mencius from previously obscure manuscripts left by the masters, and that the teach- ings they transmitted were solid and unalterable since ancient times.” From this perspective, Nishi had also grown up regarding “the followers of Jinsai and Sorai” as bitter enemies. Itō Jinsai and Ogyū Sorai were Japanese Confucian scholars who were active from the late seventeenth to the early eighteenth centuries. Jinsai is known for having mounted a frontal assault on the tenets of Neo-Confucianism. Sorai, on the other hand, was critical of both Neo- Confucianism and the school of Jinsai, and constructed his own unique system of Confucian thought. Both Jinsai and Sorai were extremely influential; Tokugawa-period thought was transformed by their appearance. Yet they were also seen as a threat, and in 1790 the shogunate implemented the Kansei Igaku no Kin (the Kansei Proscription of Heterodox Studies). This edict officially established Neo-Confucianism as the orthodox teaching of the Shōheikō, the shogunal academy in Edo, explicitly banning all other schools of thought. Under this influence, the Yōrōkan academy of Tsuwano domain, where Nishi was educated, taught that the thought of Jinsai and Sorai was heretical. But one day, Nishi writes, when he was eighteen years old, he fell ill. Looking for something to pass the time, and thinking “Can there be such great evil in glancing at a heretical book when one is lying sick in bed?”, he happened to pick up a copy of Ogyū Sorai’s Rongo chō (Commentary on the Analects) and began reading it. He was transfixed. He went on to read Sorai shū, a collection of Sorai’s writings that introduced him to Sorai’s critique of Neo-Confucianism and his unique reinterpretation of Confucian thought. Nishi writes that one of the first things he learned from Sorai was that the “principle” (ri 理; Chinese, li) central to Neo-Confucian discourse was an
32 Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 3 contains many useful source materials for understanding Nishi’s life and career. In addition, Mori Ōgai, one of Japan’s leading modern novelists, was a relative of Nishi and would later write a brief biography. See Mori Ōgai, “Nishi Amane den.” For a critical study of this work, see Hasunuma Keisuke, “‘Nishi Amane den’ no seiritsu jijō.”
“empty” concept divorced from the real world and “completely without practi- cal value for daily life.” Let us consider this point in somewhat more detail.33 Typically, Confucianism posited the idea that human beings are equipped with a “nature” (sei 性; Ch., xing) consisting of an innate capacity for social, ethical, and civilized life. Neo-Confucianism in particular believed that all beings and phenomena possessed their own inherent ideal state or ordering principle, and called this ri. The individual ri inherent in all things, including human beings, was, at base and in its essence, one—a unitary principle animating all existence. Moreover, Neo-Confucianism frequently referred to this ri as tenri 天理 (heavenly principle; Ch., tianli), although heaven (ten 天) as used here did not signify God in the form of a transcendent, anthropomorphized deity. Instead, it evoked the movement of the sun, moon and planets, the changing of the seasons, and all the other operations of nature beyond human artifice or intent. The growth of plants nourished by sunlight and rain, and the capacity of animals to thrive on these plants as food, were all part of these operations of heaven. Because of this, the term ten 天 was virtually synonymous with “nature,” and tenri 天理 (heavenly principle) meant something very similar to “principle of nature” or “natural principles.” Of course, human beings do not always live in accordance with the innate ri or sei with which they are endowed at birth. At times they can be lead astray by their self-interest, selfishness, or private desire, and engage in despicable behavior. To counter this, Neo-Confucianism proposed two principle methods: “abiding in reverence” (kyokei 居敬; Ch., jujing) and “extension of knowledge through the investigation of things” (kakubutsu chichi 格物致知; Ch., gewu zhizhi). Kyokei was both a meditative and a moral practice, involving a contem- plative inquiry into the ri innate in the human mind, and an ordering of mind, body, and behavior in accordance with it. Kakubutsu chichi was the application of scholarship to the investigation and elucidation of the ri informing the indi- vidual phenomena of existence. Neo-Confucianism preached that when a morally exemplary individual who had arrived at a thorough understanding of “principle” through such methods became the ruler, he would educate and lead the people of the realm toward morality and an ideal world could be realized. But Sorai attacked these Neo-Confucian teachings head-on. In addition to dismissing ri as empty and unrealistic, Nishi points out that Sorai thought it “impossible to completely cleanse the human passions” and rejected kyokei as
33 For a discussion of Confucian and Neo-Confucian thought, see Watanabe Hiroshi, Nihon seiji shisōshi: 17–19 seiki, translated into English by David Noble, A History of Japanese Political Thought: 1600–1901, Chapters 1 and 6.
34 For the domainal academy Yōrōkan, see Kabe Iwao, Otoroganaka. 35 Tsuda Mamichi’s life and career are considered in the following essays in Ōkubo Toshiaki, ed., Tsuda Mamichi: Kenkyū to denki: Ōkubo Toshiaki, “Tsuda Mamichi no chosaku to sono jidai”; Kimura Iwaji, “Tsuyama han ni mieru Tsuda Mamichi”; Kawasaki Masaru, “Tsuda Mamichi denki shiryō ni tsuite”; Takahata Teijirō, “Tsuda Mamichi den.” 36 Takahata, “Tsuda Mamichi den,” 293.
Kaiyō Maru and the 1862 Study Mission to the Netherlands Nishi Amane would later reminisce about his early days as an assistant instruc- tor at the Bansho Shirabesho and his first meeting with his colleague Tsuda Mamichi as follows:
In the fifth month [of Ansei 4, or 1857] I received the order to report for duty as an instructor at the Shirabesho. When I arrived, who did I find but Yukihiko [Tsuda Mamichi], who had received similar orders at that time. He had been a samurai of the Tsuyama domain in Mimasaka, and was the same age as me. He was a very keen scholar, already deeply learned not only in European languages but also in the Chinese and Japanese classics. We ‘spent our days in verse and our nights in drinking,’ as the saying goes, and quickly became close friends. Moreover, since neither of us had yet taken a wife, nor had an established household, we shared lodgings at the Shirabesho, where we occupied ourselves with reading and study.37
As Nishi and Tsuda deepened their acquaintance and grew to respect one another’s talents, they began to share a dream of traveling to Europe and learn- ing the Western sciences at first hand. Their first real opportunity to do so came when the shogunate decided to send a diplomatic mission to the United States to exchange the instruments of ratification for the first commercial treaty between Japan and the u.s. Let us listen to Nishi again as he describes their attempt to be included as students in the mission’s personnel, and the result:
37 Nishi Amane, “Oranda kikō,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 3, 340.
When I was living in the lodgings at the Shirabesho, I became acquainted with Tsuda Mamichi, who was the same age as me, and I got on quite well with him. At that time we learned that the shogunate was sending a dip- lomatic mission to the United States to conclude the commercial treaty, and that Mizuno Tadanori, Nagai Naoyuki, and Tsuda Hanzaburō had been ordered to lead it. Tsuda Mamichi and I paid a visit to Mr. Nagai and asked to be permitted to accompany the mission; we also went to Mr. Tsuda [Hanzaburō] with a similar request. I had previously done some translation work for Mr. Nagai in Kanagawa, so he had some acquaintance with me, and I also had a connection with Mr. Tsuda, who had hired me as a tutor to teach his son how to read Western books; however, despite my sincere appeals on this basis, nothing came of it.38
Nagai Naoyuki had submitted a written proposal to shogunal senior councilor Abe Masahiro suggesting that the opening of the country provided an oppor- tunity to send Japanese abroad to study,39 and this notion was clearly gaining currency within the ranks of Tokugawa officialdom. In this context, the request by Nishi and Tsuda as instructors at the Bansho Shirabesho to be sent abroad on a study mission was a pioneering attempt to realize this idea. However, political turmoil resulting from the Ansei Purge implemented by great coun- cilor Ii Naosuke resulted in the demotions and forced resignations of Mizuno Tadanori and Nagai Naoyuki, and Nishi and Tsuda’s proposal to study abroad miscarried.40 Interestingly enough, it was Fukuzawa Yukichi who managed to
38 Nishi, “Nishi-ke furyaku,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 3, 736–737. Tsuda Hanzaburō (Masamichi) was not a relative of Tsuda Mamichi. 39 Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 22–23. 40 Nishi, “Oranda kikō,” in Nishi Amane Zenshū, vol. 3, 341. The Ansei Purge was conducted by Ii Naosuke, de facto head of the shogunal government, against forces opposing his regime. In 1858 (Ansei 5), Ii assumed office as tairō (great elder) and pushed through the signing of the first commercial treaty with the United States without obtaining imperial sanction. Moreover, in the shogunal succession dispute that was simultaneously unfolding, Ii rejected the faction supporting Tokugawa Yoshinobu, head of the Hitotsubashi branch of the family, and installed Tokugawa Yoshitomi of the Kii branch as shogun Iemochi. Ii’s actions were opposed by a coalition of forces that included court nobles, daimyo, and shogunal retainers favoring the Hitotsubashi faction, as well as sonnō joi activists supporting the cause of restoring the emperor and expelling the foreigners, and he engineered the Ansei Purge to deal with them. In this process, Nagai Naoyuki, a Hitotsubashi supporter, was dis- missed from his post and demoted. Then, in 1859, a Russian naval officer stationed in Yokohama to participate in negotiating the opening of formal diplomatic relations
with Japan was assassinated by sonnō jōi activists. Mizuno Tadanori, who at the time was a commissioner of foreign affairs responsible for the Yokohama area, was dismissed from office as a result. The Ansei Purge was terminated by Ii’s assassination in 1860. 41 “Oranda seizō gunkan Kaiyō Maru ikken,” in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 530. 42 Much documentary material on the 1862 (Bunkyū 2) study mission to the Netherlands is contained in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, and the supplementary edition Zoku bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei. A pioneering study of the life of these students during their stay in the Netherlands is Miyanaga Takashi, Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgakusei no kenkyū. That the Netherlands was ultimately selected as the destination for Japan’s first study mission to Europe was no accident. The first candidate had been the United States, as the principle purpose of the mission was the construction and purchase of a warship—some- thing that had been prefigured in Article 10 of the commercial treaty Japan had signed with the us in June 1858:
Accordingly, in July 1862 (Bunkyū 2.6), Nishi and Tsuda boarded the Kanrin Maru where it lay at anchor off Shinagawa and set sail for Nagasaki, where they transferred to the Dutch trading ship Kallipus for the voyage to the Netherlands. They arrived in Rotterdam in June 1863 (Bunkyū 3.4). Obviously, the primary goal of the shogunate in sending the study mission to the Netherlands in 1862 was to take receipt of the top-of-the-line warship and to lay the groundwork for the creation of a modern navy by acquiring the basic scientific and technical knowledge that would facilitate the adoption of mod- ern Western naval practices.43 It should be noted here that the shogunate’s first request to the Dutch government for the purchase of a Western warship and armaments took place in 1853 (Kaei 6), immediately after the departure of Perry’s squadron from Edo Bay. In response to this, King Willem iii of the Netherlands presented Shogun Iesada with the steamship Soembing (renamed Kankō Maru) in 1855 (Ansei 2). The shogunate created a naval training academy, the Kaigun Denshūjo, in Nagasaki, where the Kankō Maru served as a training vessel, with Dutch officers and engineers as instructors. Among the ranks of its first class of cadets were men who would go on to achieve some fame: Katsu Kaishū, Godai Tomoatsu, and Sano Tsunetami. The Kanrin Maru, the ship that had escorted the first diplomatic mission to the United States and had carried Nishi and Tsuda from Edo to Nagasaki, was also purchased from the Netherlands, becoming the second warship in the shogunal fleet. So the principal duties of
“The Japanese government may purchase or construct in the United States, ships of war, steamers, merchant ships, whaling ships, cannon, munitions of war, and arms of all kinds, and any other things it may require. It shall have the right to engage in the United States, scientific, naval and military men, artisans of all kinds, and mariners to enter into its service.” (Gaimushō Kirokukyoku, Teimei kakkoku jōyaku isan, 755–56.) Pursuant to this, the Tokugawa regime had, in July 1861, formally requested through Consul-General Townsend Harris the construction of a warship in the u.s. and the dis- patch of a Japanese study mission to receive it upon completion. But the intensification of the American Civil War dashed these plans. As a result, the shogunate turned to the Netherlands, which had not only been the sole European nation maintaining relations with Japan through the Tokugawa period, but had also, in the period since the opening of the ports, led the way in developing a program of military assistance to the shogunate. The Netherlands had presented the shogun with the Soembing, a steam-powered warship, and had sent instructors to help establish the shogunal naval training facility in Nagasaki. Article 10 in the u.s. commercial treaty had clearly been intended as an attempt to coun- ter this early Dutch lead in military affairs. See Ōkubo Toshiaki, “Sōsetsu,” in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 3–29. 43 Ōkubo, “Sōsetsu,” 32.
The Purpose of Nishi and Tsuda’s Study Mission Although they voyaged to the Netherlands with the naval cadets, Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi were sent there on a different mission, with different goals, and once they arrived at their destination they engaged in different activities. In a letter written in Dutch when their study abroad was approved, Nishi explained his intentions as a scholar of the Bansho Shirabesho. He noted that Japan had long avoided intercourse with any European nation other than the Netherlands. But in recent times there had been significant alterations in the state of international affairs, and seven years previously Japan had begun to conclude a series of treaties with the Western nations. The increased frequency of international negotiations related to diplomacy and trade had naturally given birth to the necessity of broader study of the European sciences. As a result, he explained, a government institute, the Bansho Shirabesho, had been established in Edo, with faculty selected from various domains, offering instruction in a variety of academic disciplines. Having established the con- nection between the changing international environment surrounding Japan and the creation of the Bansho Shirabesho, as well as clarifying his own duties as an instructor, Nishi went on to observe that there were still numerous weak- nesses in the institute’s facilities and in the educational methods of its faculty. He described the actual state of scholarship there and his own motives for study abroad in the following words:
Disciplines such as physics, mathematics, chemistry, botany, geography, history, and the four languages of Dutch, German, English, and French (though only a reading knowledge) have received a certain amount of attention. Then there are more useful disciplines which are totally
unknown in Japan, such as statistics, jurisprudence, economics, politics, diplomacy, etc. These disciplines are essential to relations with the coun- tries of Europe and for the improvement of many domestic affairs of state and institutions. Our goal is to study all these disciplines. Even so, there is a problem, because it is impossible to study such important disciplines in a few short years. Therefore, our intention is that each discipline will not be studied exhaustively, but only in its essentials… We would ask you to understand the matters outlined above and to do us the great favor of recommending to us capable teachers.44
In addition, Nishi mentions “Descartes and Locke, Hegel, Kant, and others,” and says, “I would like to master the field of knowledge known as philosophy (Philosophie of Wijsbe[ge]erte).” He notes that while “the religious aspect is pro- hibited by the laws of our country,” philosophy could be considered something different.45 In Nishi’s proposal, we can see the strong problem-consciousness that both he and Tsuda were bringing to their studies: an awareness of the accomplish- ments of Edo-period Rangaku, but one accompanied by the realization that they must strive for a broad understanding of European legal and political institutions and of the social sciences, both for the practice of diplomatic negotiations with the Western nations and for the reform of the Japanese pol- ity. The fervent desire to systematically engage in formal study of these disci- plines in Europe, their place of origin, was the motivating force that drove Nishi and Tsuda to travel abroad. Here, as well, we can discern the pride they felt as instructors attached to the Bansho Shirabesho, described in Nishi’s doc- ument as the “Emperial school van Europesche wetenschappen” (the official school for European sciences)—that unlike the scions of direct vassals of the Tokugawa shogun sent on earlier diplomatic and inspection tours or the cadets dispatched to learn navigation and seamanship, Nishi and Tsuda were intent on acquiring knowledge useful in a variety of political reforms. And in fact, the results of Nishi and Tsuda’s two-year sojourn in the Netherlands stood out as superior in both quantity and quality when compared to the previous missions
44 Nishi Amane, letter of 12 June 1863 to John Joseph Hoffmann, in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 176–177. This work contains printed versions of the correspondence in Dutch between Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi and Vissering and Hoffman. The phrase “geschieden is” appears in the letter cited here, but this is probably a misprint for “geschiedenis”(history). 45 Ibid., 177.
From what I have been recently able to discern from my limited knowl- edge of the Western sciences of human nature [seirigaku 性理学], politi- cal economy [keizaigaku 経済学], and so forth, I have discovered that they are astonishingly fair and impartial in their judgments, and in this sense extremely different from the various traditions of Chinese scholar- ship…In their study of philosophy [hirosohi ヒロソヒ], their explanation of the principles of human nature [seimei no ri 性命之理] is more penetrat- ing than that of the Neo-Confucians, with postulates grounded in the way of nature; the founding principles of their government and political economy are superior to the so-called monarchical rule [ōsei 王政] of Confucianism. I have come to the realization that the institutions and civilization of the United States, England, and other European countries are superior to the concept that Yao and Shun had of the polity and to the institutions established by the Duke of Shao in the Zhou dynasty.46
For his part, in the essay “Tengai dokugo,” written in around 1861 (Bunkyū 1), Tsuda also expressed a keen interest in “philosophy,” writing of the necessity of striving towards a comprehensive scholarship that would “integrate all Chinese, Japanese, and Western learning, past and present, into one.” This, he felt, would
46 Nishi Amane, letter to Matsuoka Rintarō (1862), in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 8.
47 Tsuda Mamichi, “Tengai dokugo,” in Tsuda Mamichi zenshū, vol. 1, 72–73. 48 See Nichiran Gakkai, ed., Edo bakufu kyūzō ransho sōgō mokuroku.
The letter quoted previously, in which Nishi set forth in Dutch his motives and intent for his study abroad, was duly presented upon their arrival in Rotterdam to Johan Joseph Hoffmann, a professor of Japanese at Leiden University. Hoffman had served as assistant to Philip Franz von Siebold, and from 1846 he had worked in the translation bureau of the Dutch Colonial Office. In 1855 he became the first full professor to occupy the chair of Japanese language studies at Leiden University, a post newly created by Willem iii.49 It was Hoffman who recommended to Nishi and Tsuda that the supervising pro- fessor best suited to help them fulfill the purposes of their study abroad would be Professor Simon Vissering of the Leiden University Faculty of Law.
Vissering and the Five-Course Curriculum What manner of man was Vissering? Let us take a look at his curriculum vitae. He was born July 23, 1818 as the third son of an Amsterdam commercial family. In 1837 he began his studies at Leiden University, and in 1842 he was awarded degrees in literature and law for his graduation thesis, “Quaestiones Plautinae.” In 1843 he was admitted to the bar and he also began an active life as a scholar and opinion leader. Beginning in 1846 he became a regular contributor to the liberal journal De Gids, which he later joined as an editor. In 1847 he was appointed editor-in-chief of the Amsterdamische Courant, the city’s official newspaper, but the liberal principles that Vissering advocated proved to be too much for the conservative city officials, and he resigned in 1848. About this time he became secretary of the Amstel Association, a liberal political club. In 1850 he was selected to replace his former advisor at Leiden University, Johan Rudolph Thorbecke, as professor in the Faculty of Law. For the next thirty years he would have responsibility for courses in political economy, diplomatic his- tory, and statistics. His masterwork is Handboek van praktische staathuishoud- kunde (Handbook of Practical Political Economy, 2 vols, Amsterdam, 1860–61; 1862–65), published around the period that Nishi and Tsuda were studying with him. In 1879 he was appointed minister of finance in the cabinet of Constantijn Theodoor van Lynden van Sandenburg, a post he served in for approximately two years. He died in 1886.50 We will touch on further details of Vissering’s academic career and political activities later in this book, but for now it should be noted that throughout his life the majority of his academic research was devoted to the fields of political
49 For further information on John Joseph Hoffman, see Wim J. Boot, “Leiden ni okeru Higashi Asia kenkyū no yurai to hatten, 1830–1945.” 50 For Vissering’s biography, see H.F. Wijman, “Simon Vissering”; and Watanabe Yogorō, Simon Vissering kenkyū.
First we will discuss natural law. This is the foundation of all other law. Next we will discuss international law and constitutional law. This expands the application of natural law externally to regulate the intercourse among nations and internally to correspond to the various domestic laws of indi- vidual states. Later we will discuss political economy, which teaches the way to enrich the country and bring peace and security to the people. Finally we shall discuss statistics, which is a method of providing compre- hensive and exhaustive knowledge of the state of the nation.52
These private lessons, which took place twice a week at Vissering’s home, lasted for two years and concluded in November 1865. Nishi and Tsuda, bring- ing with them their extensive lecture notes written in Dutch, returned to Japan slightly ahead of Enomoto Takeaki and the other naval cadets, arriv- ing at Yokohama on February 13, 1866 (Keiō 1.12.28). They were subse- quently appointed as professors at the Kaiseijō (the new name for the Bansho Shirabesho), and awarded the status of jikisan (direct shogunal vassals). Moreover, about half a year later they were summoned to Kyoto at the order of the shogun Tokugawa Yoshinobu. Thus it was that in the span of a decade, Nishi and Tsuda went from a precarious existence as master- less samurai who had cut their ties to their home domains, to employment
51 Nishi, “Seihō, bankoku kōhō, kokuhō, seisangaku, seihyō kuketsu” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 142. 52 Ibid., 142 (Vissering’s words, translated into Japanese by Nishi Amane).
Meanwhile, at the order of the shogunate, Nishi and Tsuda set about translat- ing into Japanese the Dutch manuscripts of their lecture notes from Vissering that were the storehouse of their two years of overseas study. The first fruits of these labors were Tsuda’s translation of the lectures on constitutional law and Nishi’s translation and adaptation of the lectures on international law. These translations were duly submitted to the shogunate, which published them in 1868 (Keiō 4) as Taisei kokuhō ron and Bankoku kōhō respectively. We can assume that the lectures on national legal systems and international law were selected as the first of the lecture series to be translated because they were believed to contain valuable information that could be immediately applied to the most pressing issues facing the shogunate at that time in the areas of domestic and international politics. As for the remaining lecture notes, those on natural law were translated and published in 1871 (Meiji 4) by their former colleague at the Bansho Shirabesho and Kaiseijo, Kanda Takahira; later, Nishi himself made a translation and adaptation of the same notes, published in 1879 (Meiji 12). The notes on statistics were translated and adapted by Tsuda, and published in 1874 (Meiji 7). But let us retrace our steps for a moment. For our story really begins when, after a difficult ten-month voyage over thousands of miles of stormy seas, including a shipwreck and sojourn on a remote island in the Gaspar Strait between the Indian Ocean to the South China Sea, Nishi and Tsuda finally arrived at their destination: Leiden, in the Netherlands, with its famous univer- sity. What they would learn there, and how they would attempt to give practi- cal application to that knowledge upon their return home to Japan, will be the principal subject of this book.
1 Dutch Jurisprudence and the Development of Constitutional Thought
In this chapter we bring to light the specifics of what Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi learned from Simon Vissering’s lectures on natural law and constitu- tional law, placing this within the context of trends in Dutch society and politics during the latter half of the nineteenth century. We then examine how, after returning to Japan in the midst of the political crisis surrounding the transfer of sovereignty from Tokugawa shogun to emperor, Nishi attempted to make prac- tical use of what he learned in a proposal for a new form of government. One of the pioneering scholars in the history of Japanese law, Osatake Takeki, wrote in 1938 (Shōwa 13) in his masterwork Nihon kenseishi taikō (An Outline of Japanese Constitutional History) that:
The establishment of a constitution for the modern state required that the self-restraint exercised by the rulers themselves within the feudal pol- ity could no longer be deemed sufficient; it was based on the demand for the creation of a parliament, and we cannot ignore the fact that constitu- tional thought, in this sense, was something that was transplanted to our country.1
From the time of Osatake’s classic study, one of the major themes for research on the history of political thought in late Tokugawa and early Meiji Japan has been to trace the process by which constitutional government was established, focusing on the importation of Western parliamentary systems and the devel- opment of parliamentary politics in Japan. From this perspective, the first article of Gokajō no Goseimon 五箇条の御誓文 (the Charter Oath of 1868) pro- mulgated by the new Meiji government—“Deliberative assemblies shall be
1 Osatake Takeki, Nihon kenseishi taikō, 8–9. There is a vast literature on modern Japanese con- stitutional history, but the following studies are representative: Osatake Takeki, Ishin zengo ni okeru rikken shisō; Inada Masatsugu, Meiji kenpō seiritsushi; Mitani Hiroshi, Meiji Ishin to nationalism; Banno Junji, Nihon kenseishi.
© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2014 | doi 10.1163/9789004245372_003
In America three major policies have been set up since Washington’s presidency: First, to stop wars in accordance with divine intentions, because nothing is worse than violence or killing among nations; second, to broaden enlightened government by learning from all the countries of the world; and third, to work with complete devotion for the peace and welfare of the people by entrusting the power of the president of the whole country to the wisest instead of transmitting it to the son of the president, and by abolishing the code in the relationship between ruler and minister. All methods of administrative laws and practices and all men who are known as good and wise throughout the world are put into the country’s service and a very beneficial administration—one not com- pletely in the interests of the rulers—is developed. In England the government is based entirely on the popular will, and all government actions—large and small—are always debated by the people. The most beneficial action is decided upon, and an unpopular program is not forced upon the people . . . Furthermore, all countries, including Russia, have established schools and military academies, hos- pitals, orphanages, and schools for the deaf and dumb. The governments are entirely based on moral principals, and they work hard for the benefit of the people, virtually as in the three ancient periods of sage-rule in China.2
2 Yokoi Shōnan, “Kokuze Sanron,” 39–40; translated into English by D.Y. Miyauchi, “Three Major Problems of State Policy,” 156–186.
Previous scholarship has regarded Shōnan’s thought as innovative and histori- cally significant precisely for this positive assessment of America’s republic and Britain’s parliamentary system as superior forms of government, even in light of the Confucian teachings that comprised his own philosophical tradition.3 It is undeniable that in the face of the unprecedented foreign policy crisis initiated by the “opening” of Japan there were many who longed for some way of uniting the wisdom and strength of the various domains under the aegis of some type of parliamentary government—a discourse known as kōgi seitai ron 公議政体論. There were also forces who had been excluded from the centers of political decision-making in the Tokugawa government and who had raised the banner of kōgi yoron 公議輿論 (“public matters to be determined by public dis- cussion”) as a means of demanding political participation. And some of the most influential daimyo called for the establishment of a deliberative “assem- bly of lords” (shokō kaigi 諸侯会議). Thus a heightened interest in Western par- liamentary systems had been created. However, as in contemporary Europe, discussion of forms of constitutional government in Japan could not be restricted solely to the parliamentary sys- tem. The dialogue initiated by Japanese intellectuals with Western jurispru- dence and philosophy developed along diverse paths. One of the most fascinating was embodied in the activities of the scholars of Western learning affiliated with the Bansho Shirabesho. Many of these men were in their mid- twenties when they were eyewitnesses to the arrival of Perry’s “black ships,” making them some twenty years younger than Yokoi Shōnan. One of them, Katō Hiroyuki, looked back in later years on Rikken seitai ryaku (Outline of Constitutional Government), a document he had written at the time of the Restoration, and commented: “I believe that I was the first to make use of the compound word rikken 立憲 (constitutional government).”4 These young Western studies savants, with their newly-won understanding of Western political systems, were increasingly called upon for advice and counsel in sit- uations involving both foreign affairs and domestic politics. They were quite literally the bearers of new forms of knowledge that had arisen in response to what would later be called “the Western impact.” Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi, who set out for the Netherlands in 1862 to study European jurisprudence, would play a leading role in the activities of
3 Major studies of the political thought of Yokoi Shōnan are Hiraishi Naoaki, “Shutai . Tenri . Tentei—Yokoi Shōnan no seiji shisō”; Karube Tadashi, “Riyoku sekai to kōkyō no sei—Yokoi Shōnan . Motoda Nagazane”; Watanabe Hiroshi, Nihon seiji shisōshi: 17–19 seiki, translated into English by David Noble, A History of Japanese Political Thought: 1600–1901, Chapter 9. 4 Katō Hiroyuki, “Katō Hiroyuki to rikken seitai no enko,” 11.
5 Ōkubo Toshiaki, “Tsuda Mamichi no chosaku to sono jidai,” 4. 6 For the relationship between the two works, see Asō Yoshiteru, Kinsei Nihon tetsugakushi, 80–92; Yasu Seishū, “Meiji shoki ni okeru Doitsu kokka shisō no juyō ni kansuru ichi kōsatsu,” 117–118. 7 Nishi Amane, “Nishi-ke furyaku,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 3, 759. 8 Ōkubo, “Tsuda Mamichi no chosaku to sono jidai,” 39.
2 Vissering’s Legal World: Natural Law, Historical Jurisprudence, and Liberal Reform
What was the nature of the instruction in jurisprudence that Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi received from Vissering in Leiden as part of his five-course “com- prehensive curriculum in staatswetenschappen (sciences of the state)”? For an overview of the course on constitutional law, we have Tsuda Mamichi’s transla- tion of his lecture notes, entitled Taisei kokuhō ron (Theory of Western Constitutional Law) and published by the Tokugawa shogunate in 1868 (Keiō 4).9 In these lectures, “the definition of constitutional law” is given as “a dis- course enumerating the mutual rights (ken 権) and duties (gi 義) of the state and its citizens.” In this regard, the rights of the citizens were established as the right to liberty; the right of equality before the law; freedoms of assembly, reli- gion, and the press; the right to petition; and the right to vote. These rights were accompanied by the duties of respecting and obeying the laws.10 Vissering taught Nishi and Tsuda that a constitutional monarchy was the ideal system for maintaining and upholding these rights and duties. The question to be asked here is what type of legal thinking and concept of the state provided the foundation for Vissering’s discourse on political sys- tems? Vissering set the lectures on natural law at the beginning of his five- course curriculum. How did the lectures on natural law and constitutional law relate to one another? Moreover, what were the characteristics of Vissering’s discourse on constitutional monarchy, and how did this relate to contempo- rary political movements in the Netherlands and in Europe? In order to give a detailed account of the characteristics informing the lectures on jurisprudence as a whole, we must first take a close look at Vissering’s own writings and ana- lyze them in their historical context. As we shall see in greater detail in the following chapter, Vissering was a specialist in political economy and statistics, and so did not leave us with a comprehensive treatise in the field of law. He did, however, publish a number of works of political commentary grounded in jurisprudence and a knowledge of the law. Reading these works in tandem with Nishi and Tsuda’s notes on Vissering’s lectures and comparing them with the works of other European thinkers of the period will enable us to get at the essence of their arguments.
9 Simon Vissering, translated by Tsuda Mamichi, Taisei kokuhō ron, in Tsuda Mamichi zenshū, vol. 1, 118. It should be noted that while this work of Tsuda’s is a translation of his notes in Dutch on Vissering’s lectures on constitutional law, unlike the notes for Vissering’s other lectures, the Dutch original is no longer extant. 10 Ibid., 135–150.
As a first step in this analysis, I will begin with an investigation of Vissering’s course on natural law. We have a record of these lectures in two forms: Nishi Amane’s manuscript lecture notes, written in Dutch, and his later published Japanese translation of these notes, Seihō setsuyaku (Theory of Natural Law).11 Vissering began with a definition of natural law as grounded in human nature, and human nature as specifically social:
Natural law is based on human nature. Therefore it is called natural law. Human beings are destined to live together with other people on the earth.12
Nishi translated “natural law” as seihō 性法. It is quite significant that he used the word sei 性, so prominent in Confucianism as the term for “nature.” Moreover, he translated “to live together with other people” as aiseiyō su 相生養す. Vissering continued: “Every man naturally understands the difference between good and evil, between justice and injustice.” Human nature can be differentiated into the psychological capacity to distinguish between good and evil (goed en kwaad; zen 善/aku 悪) in one’s own behavior, and between justice and injustice (regt en onregt; sei 正/fusei 不正) in the social behavior of others. In this differentiation, the distinction between morality and natural law is drawn. In other words, morality (moraal) has to do with the faculty of human nature that provides us with the ability to judge our own behavior to be good or evil; while natural law (het natuurregt) is grounded in the capacity of human nature to judge justice and injustice in our relations with others in the social sphere.13 Having separated law from morality in this way, “the first and highest rule of natural law” is expressed as the freedom of people to behave as they wish, to the extent that it does not interfere with the freedom of others to do
11 Simon Vissering’s Seihō setsuyaku (translated by Nishi Amane) was published in 1879. I refer to the copy in the collection of the National Diet Library of Japan. A printed version has been published in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei. For the convenience of the reader, page number citations are to the latter. For a previous examination of the content of Vissering’s lectures on natu- ral law, see Nagao Ryūichi, “Furon Vissering to shizenhō.” 12 Simon Vissering, “Natuurregt,” 4; translation by Nishi Amane, Seihō setsuyaku, 1. 13 Vissering, “Natuurregt,” 4–5; Seihō setsuyaku, 2–3. “Dit onderscheid tusschen goed en kwaad wordt in de eerste plaats voor al onze daden bepaald door de zedeleer (moraal)”; “Dit onderscheid wordt in de tweede plaats voor al onze daden tegenover andere menschen bepaald door de voorschriften van het natuurregt.”
14 Vissering, “Natuurregt,” 5; Seihō setsuyaku, 3. “De eerste en hoogste regel van het natuurregt is: elk mensch is vrij in zijne daden, maar mag door geene daad de vrijheid van een ander mensch verkorten”; “Alzoo staat tegenover ons regt de pligt om het regt van een ander te eerbiedigen.”
15 Hendrik Cock, Natuur-staats- en volkenregt, 5–8, 13–96. 16 Ibid., 8. 17 Willem Jacob Anton Jozef Duynstee, “Geschiedenis van het natuurrecht en de wijsbe- geerte van het recht in Nederland,” 68–74. 18 Cock, Natuur- staats- en volkenregt, 128. 19 Nishi Amane, “Seihō, bankoku kōhō, kokuhō, seisangaku, seihyō, kuketsu,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 142.
Johan Rudolph Thorbecke and German Historical Jurisprudence Let us turn our attention for a moment to Vissering’s own published work. His earliest study of the Dutch constitution was an essay published in 1846, enti- tled “De regering en de natie, Beginselen van Nederlandsch staatsbestuur” (Of the Government and the Nation: Principles of Dutch Administration).23
20 Vissering/Tsuda, Taisei kokuhō ron, in Tsuda Mamichi zenshū, vol. 1, 119. 21 Ibid., 121–22. 22 Ibid., 163. 23 The following discussion is based on Simon Vissering, “De regering en de natie, Beginselen van Nederlandsch staatsbestuur,” in Herinneringen, vol. 2, 66–106. This article was origi- nally published in De Gids Boekbeoordeelingen (Amsterdam, 1846), as a review of Jeronimo
In this essay, Vissering proclaims the entire history of Europe from the Reformation to the French Revolution to have been a struggle for the realiza- tion of liberty, equality, and fraternity, founded upon “liberalism within a framework of constitutional government.” Basing himself on the scholarly theories of George Willem Vreede, Vissering observes that the general princi- ples of “constitutional liberalism” have gradually revealed themselves in a process of “historical formation” and “development” peculiar to each country and rooted in “the history of its people.” The history of the modern Netherlands in particular has been a process in which the “aspiration for progress” has manifested itself in the ideal of cooperation between king and people. After the Netherlands gained independence from France in 1813, the new constitu- tion (drafted by a commission headed by Gijsbert Karel van Hogendorp) established the harmonization of the sovereign rights of the king with “the influence of the people upon the government” as its fundamental principle. This was a promise of “gradual development” toward the “realization of a lib- eral constitution,” with incremental adjustments to be made in response to the changing times. Yet what actually happened was an expansion of “central- ized rule” by the king, which obstructed efforts to improve constitutional gov- ernment. Here, Vissering took up the constitutional reform proposal of 1844 known as the “Voorstel der Negenmannen” (Proposition of the Nine Men), and closed his essay by arguing that the Netherlands was presently confronted with an era of change and that reforms of the political institutions were essential, in part to avoid the radicalization of popular movements. This essay clearly had the contemporary liberal movement in mind. But before touching on the political context, it is instructive to note the presence of themes that will run through Vissering’s later lectures on constitutional law to Nishi and Tsuda: an insistence on the importance of the customs and the state of civilization of each individual nation, as well as a general assessment that constitutional government has made significant progress in the wake of the French Revolution. Vissering’s emphasis on the historical formation and development of constitutional law has an entirely different character from the political theories of law developed by natural law scholars such as Cock in the first half of the nineteenth century. The figure that emerges as central to this shift in vantage point is that of Johan Rudolph Thorbecke, leader of the liberal movement and central personality among the Negenmannen (Nine Men), whose theories Vissering cited in the abovementioned essay. Thorbecke also
de Bosch Kemper, Beginselen van Nederlandsch staatsbestuur (Amsterdam: Johannes Müller, 1845) and George Willem Vreede, De regering en de natie sedert 1672 tot 1795: Ontwikkeling van staatsregtelijke theorieen (Amsterdam: J.F. Schleijer, 1845).
24 See Izaäk Johannes Brugmans, Thorbecke; Ernst Heinrich Kossmann, “Thorbecke en het historisme”; Eke Poortinga, De scheiding tussen publiek- en privaatrecht bij Johan Rudolph Thorbecke. 25 Johan Rudolph Thorbecke, Bedenkingen aangaande het regt en den staat, naar aanleiding van Mr J. Kinker’s brieven over het Natuurregt, xx. 26 Ibid., 63–64. 27 For Thorbecke’s critique of German historical jurisprudence, see Kossmann, “Thorbecke en het historisme,” 7–19; Poortinga, De scheiding tussen publiek- en privaatrecht bij Johan Rudolph Thorbecke, 49–50. 28 Thorbecke, Bedenkingen aangaande het regt en den staat, 81.
Eke Poortinga has characterized Thorbecke’s legal philosophy as “historicized natural law.”29 Thorbecke rejects the legal theories of scholars such as Cock, who defined natural law in ahistorical terms and deduced his political theory from the concept of the state of nature. Thorbecke redefines natural law in terms of a notion of positive law as immanent in history and revealing itself through a con- stant process of transformation conditioned by the formation and development of the collective life of the people. He then argues that while natural law should serve as a foundation, laws must be made with due and careful consideration of the history and customs of each society. In other words, any nation’s body of constitutional law should be interpreted as the product of diverse developments through which the ideals of natural law are manifested in a historical process that incorporates the character of its people and their degree of civilization. It is this perspective that makes Thorbecke’s legal philosophy unique. Something we should not overlook regarding Vissering’s lectures to Nishi and Tsuda on constitutional law is his teacher Thorbecke’s ambivalent assess- ment of the French Revolution. Thorbecke rejected the theory of the social contract from the perspective of jurisprudence, and he was equally vehement in his assessment of it as a political theory: “Our age demands that we elimi- nate the pernicious authority of social contract theory from both the realm of scholarship and of public opinion.”30 Thorbecke expressed hostility to theories of the social contract and of popular sovereignty, seeing them as ahistorical revolutionary ideologies that were artificially and radically attempting to remake the government and its laws. Yet at the same time he appreciated the positive significance of the French Revolution itself, interpreting it as “the result of a lengthy historical development” of “reform in Europe” that estab- lished “the individual and civil rights that have seen their fruition in the pres- ent parliamentary system.” These arguments were expressed with particular clarity in lectures that Thorbecke gave at Leiden University in 1842, which Vissering quite possibly attended, and in a speech he gave titled “Over het hedendaagsche staatsburgerschap” (On Present-Day Citizenship) in 1844.31 Vissering’s lectures on constitutional law followed Thorbecke’s insights into the relationship between law and history by similarly rejecting notions of the social contract and popular sovereignty, while at the same time delivering a
29 Poortinga, De scheiding tussen publiek- en privaatrecht bij Johan Rudolph Thorbecke, 56. 30 Johan Rudolph Thorbecke, “J.R. Thorbecke aan G. Groen van Prinsterer, Leiden, 2 Augustus 1831,” in De Briefwisseling van J.R. Thorbecke, deel 1, 1830–33, 189. 31 Johan Rudolph Thorbecke, “Over het hedendaagsche staatsburgerschap,” in Historische schetsen, 84–85; Johan Rudolph Thorbecke, “Historische en vergelijkende verklaring der grondwet van Nederland,” 1–2.
Vissering and Dutch Liberal Reform The most innovative aspect of Thorbecke’s philosophy of law was his rejection of deductive, ahistorical approaches and his insistence that the ideals of natu- ral law were immanent in history—which focused the primary concern of jurisprudence on the analysis of constitutional law as a form of positive law. In 1839, Thorbecke published Aanteekening op de grondwet (Commentary on the Constitution), a work based on a series of lectures he had given on constitu- tional law. Concerning the aim of his lectures, he wrote that he “considered the constitution as an aspect and outcome of the progress of parliamentary gov- ernment in our country and across Europe as a whole in the period since the French Revolution.”32 Through the medium of these “practical” constitutional commentaries, rejecting “abstract reasoning,” Thorbecke advocated “constitu- tional reform” based on the concept of a harmonization of “institutions shaped by the unique character and conditions of a people” with “general principles derived from world developments.” He said that the people would “seek to real- ize a new society” by “replacing the old constitutional order with a new general constitution.”33 As a result of the publication of this book, which sought to define the outlines of a liberal constitutional order, Thorbecke immediately rose to the position of standard-bearer of the liberal movement, advocating constitutional reforms that would expand suffrage, modify monarchical abso- lutism, and introduce a system of responsible cabinets. Having thus stepped into the political maelstrom, in 1844, together with eight other politicians, Thorbecke submitted the constitutional reform proposal known as the “Voorstel der Negenmannen” (Proposition of the Nine Men). Vissering’s afore- mentioned essay on “De regering en de natie” (The Government and the Nation) was written in this political context and was clearly intended to pro- vide enthusiastic support for the liberal cause. In March 1848, fearing the spread of the unrest touched off by the February Revolution in Paris, King Willem II of the Netherlands suddenly shifted his conservative and absolutist stance and began to seek constitutional reform. He established a committee headed by Thorbecke to draft a proposal for constitutional revision. A revised constitution was promulgated in November
32 Thorbecke, “Historische en vergelijkende verklaring der grondwet van Nederland,” 1. 33 Johan Rudolph Thorbecke, Aanteekening op de grondwet (1839), v–viii, Aanteekening op de grondwet, tweede uitgave (1841–43), vi–xiv. The second edition incorporated substan- tial revisions of the first edition.
1848, based on the committee’s recommendations, which in turn owed much to the earlier “Voorstel der Negenmannen.” The new constitution introduced the system of a responsible cabinet and ministerial responsibility; a truly con- stitutional monarchy with specific limitations on the authority of the king; guarantees of the rights of assembly, organization, and freedom of belief; and direct election of members of the lower house (Tweede Kamer), state assem- blies, and local councils, though suffrage was limited to males paying more than a specified amount of annual taxes. In 1849, Thorbecke was appointed prime minister and formed a cabinet; with this, the Dutch liberal order was firmly established. Under the banner of cooperation between king and people, a popular revolutionary outburst was avoided, while at the same time, the con- stitutional monarchy initiated with the constitution of 1814 was perfected, not by the abolition of the power of the king, but by placing strict limits upon it. This distinguishing feature of Dutch liberalism owed much to the central fig- ure in the reforms. It would be no exaggeration to state that Thorbecke’s juris- prudence embodied the essence of liberal reform.34 Having assumed the office of prime minister, Thorbecke resigned his posi- tion at Leiden University. And it was none other than Simon Vissering who was appointed the following year as Thorbecke’s successor in the Faculty of Law. In an 1866 essay by Vissering entitled “Tafelkout” (Table Talk), one of the charac- ters reminisces about this “splendid era” in the following terms:
Together, we studied the Commentaries on the Constitution, which had just been published… Hurray for the “Nine Men” of ‘44! But our high spirits were misconstrued as a spirit of rebellion—do you remember how
34 For the liberal movement in the Netherlands in the 1840s and the reforms of 1848, see Pieter Jacobus Oud, Staatkundige vormgeving in Nederland, deel. 1; Ernst Heinrich Kossmann, The Low Countries, 1780–1940; Johan Christian Boogman, Rondom 1848; Harm van Riel, Geschie denis van het Nederlandse liberalisme in de negentiende eeuw; Johan Christian Boogman, et al, Geschiedenis van het moderne Nederland; Ido de Haan, Het beginsel van leven en wasdom. The nineteenth century in the Netherlands has been called “Thorbecke’s century.” Yet speak- ing more precisely from the perspective of political history, the 1848 constitution was based on a government proposal drafted by a committee chaired by Thorbecke. Because of this, although they were united in proposing reform, the government proposal and Thorbecke’s personal views diverged in certain respects. Even so, it is clear that Thorbecke played a cen- tral and leading role in the constitutional revision and other liberal reforms of the era. And what is even more significant in the context of this book is that Vissering himself saw Thorbecke as the leader of the liberal movement that reached its climax with the 1848 con- stitution and subsequent reforms. Cf., Simon Vissering, “Thorbecke en de Liberale Partij (1872) in Thorbecke als staatsman,” in Verzamelde geschriften van Mr S. Vissering, deel 2.
our activities were regarded as revolt, and people spoke about a blacklist in which all our names were recorded?…Then, when at last such a constitu- tional revision was quite unexpectedly carried successfully to its fruition, there were some cheers, some toasts, and a bit of self-congratulation!35
Vissering would later be regarded as “a propagandist for the Thorbecke govern- ment,”36 and was certainly one of the intellectuals who supported the liberal movement. The philosophy of law that Nishi and Tsuda learned from Vissering was nurtured under the influence of Thorbecke’s jursiprudence.
3 The Dutch Constitution of 1848 and Taisei kokuhō ron
What did Vissering teach to Nishi and Tsuda regarding political institutions, given his advocacy for the historical development of “liberal constitutional- ism”? I will attempt to answer this question through an analysis comparing Vissering’s interpretation of the 1848 constitution in De grondtrekken van het Nederlandsche staatsbestuur (Fundamental Features of Dutch Administration; hereafter, De grondtrekken), published in 1863 during Nishi and Tsuda’s sojourn in the Netherlands, with Tsuda’s later translation of the notes from Vissering’s lectures on constitutional law, Taisei kokuhō ron. In De grondtrekken, Vissering located the foundations of the state in civi- lized societies in the protection of the rights of the people and the delineation of their duties. He spoke of “het constitutionele” as the principle of newer European constitutional law. According to Vissering, the constitutional revi- sions instituted in 1848 at the culmination of the liberal movement had resulted in a constitutional monarchy that was in fact a realization of the ideals of constitutionalism.37 In his lectures to Nishi and Tsuda, Vissering adopted a similar perspective, arguing for the superiority of constitutional monarchy as a system of govern- ment in comparison to despotism or autocracy on the one hand, or democracy based on popular sovereignty on the other. In a despotic state (translated by Tsuda as kun’i muryō no kuni 君威無量の国), he noted, “all subjects are slaves, possessing no rights whatsoever,” while the ruler “serves not the realm but his own private interests.” This, along with autocracy (mugen kunshu no kuni 無限君主の国), must be rejected. On the other hand, “democratic populism”
35 Simon Vissering, “Tafelkout,” 133. 36 H.F. Wijman, “Simon Vissering,” 133. 37 Simon Vissering, De grondtrekken van het Nederlandsch staatsbestuur, 14.
(heimin seiji 平民政治) is a form of government that “follows the majority in determining matters, and thus minority opinions or parties must bend their will to comply with the majority.” Because of this, there is always the danger that the tyranny of the majority and the activities of “demagogues” might produce och- locracy, or mob rule (taishū gumin no bōsei 大衆愚民の暴政), which in the end results in autocracy. These observations led Vissering to the conclusion that the ideal form of government is a hybrid: a limited monarchy (yūgen kunshu no kokutai 有限君主の国体) grounded in the constraints of constitutional law.38
A polity with a limited monarchy takes the strengths of democracy and uses them to vastly increase the spirit of independence and autonomy of the people and bolster their morale; it combines the finer points of aris- tocratic politics, which are far-sighted planning and wisdom, with the national strength unique to monarchy; for national strength is a result of the unification of the powers of the nation in the hands of a sole sover- eign with comprehensive authority over national affairs.39
So we see that Vissering’s political theories were critical of the despotism or absolute monarchies of the past but at the same time wary of the burgeoning Rousseauvian rhetoric of popular sovereignty, as they were formulated against the background of the success of liberal reform in the Netherlands, which had opted for a constitutional monarchy established through a moderate revision of the constitution. In fact, in his discussion of forms of government, Thorbecke had argued that “the theory of popular sovereignty, like its antithesis, despo- tism, stands in opposition to constitutional monarchy,” pointing out that the constitutional monarchy is the best organized of all known forms of govern- ment; it allows for the greatest degree of liberty; without losing its essential character, it is open to a varied development of society, political spirit, and government, as well as to steady progress; and is the most appropriate system for seeking harmony among public and private interests.40 What should be noted here is that the rationale for the establishment of constitutional monarchy is being sought in its capacity to uphold and to pro- mote diverse social development based on a harmonization of public and private interests. This statement by Thorbecke is itself an expression of the nature of the liberalism that he and his colleagues advocated. Thorbecke fur- ther declared, “What characterizes a free nation and a liberal government is its
38 Vissering/Tsuda, Taisei kokuhō ron, 152–58. 39 Ibid., 158. 40 Johan Rudolph Thorbecke, “Narede,” 4–5.
The Separation of Powers and Ministerial Responsibility If we return to Vissering’s lectures on constitutional law to Nishi and Tsuda and to De grondtrekken, we find that from the perspective outlined above, he
41 Ibid., 2. 42 Simon Vissering, Redevoering over vrijheid, het grondbeginsel der staathuishoudkunde, 16–25. 43 Vissering/Tsuda, Taisei kokuhō ron, vol. 1, 141.
The main thrust of the presently established constitution is to monitor the domestic balance of power in order to prevent those who wield it from abusing it, thus protecting the independent enterprises and rights of the people and defending the public interests (kōeki 公益) of the state.44
To achieve this, what is required is a “legal system of a domestic balance of power” among “administrative authority,” “legislative authority,” and “judicial authority” (which Tsuda translated respectively as gyōhō no ken 行法の権; seihō no ken 制法の権; and shihō no ken 司法の権).
When the three functions [of executive, legislature, and judiciary] are in a balanced state, they restrain one another and prevent any one of them from gaining excessive power; this is a most excellent means for preserv- ing the peace of the nation and for warding off tyranny and despotism.45
Expanding on this theme, Vissering advocated a cooperative balance between executive and legislative powers, with a strict separation and independence of the judiciary from the other two powers:
The lawmaking and executive functions should always work in harmony and coordinate their powers…The judiciary must be clearly and com- pletely separated from the other two, independent and unbeholden to any other, making its judgments purely on the basis of the established laws.46
That Vissering’s understanding of the separation of powers was based on the political theories of Charles Louis de Montesquieu is clear from his lectures to Nishi and Tsuda on constitutional law, where he cites the explanation of the English system of government provided in Montesquieu’s De l’esprit des lois
44 Ibid., 165–166. 45 Ibid., 122–123. The following discussion of Vissering’s views on the separation of powers is based on Vissering, De grondtrekken van het Nederlandsch staatsbestuur, 11–39. 46 Vissering/Tsuda, Taisei kokuhō ron, 123.
(The Spirit of the Laws). Montesquieu defined the judiciary as an independent entity charged with the essentially mechanical application of the existing laws. Moreover, Montesquieu argued that “the legislative body being composed of two parts, they check one another by the mutual privilege of rejecting. They are both restrained by the executive power, as the executive is by the legisla- tive.”47 The influence of Montesquieu’s theory of the separation of powers on Vissering is readily apparent. Yet here as well we should not overlook the influence of the Dutch liberal movement. Vissering’s discourse on constitutional law developed in intimate relationship with the context of Dutch political history surrounding the consti- tutional reform of 1848. Of the 1848 constitution, Vissering wrote in De grondtrekken that “the executive, legislative, and judicial powers all derive from the king, who is the head of state.” With regard to the powers of the execu- tive, Vissering cited Article 73, and explained that “the king establishes the various ministries and agencies of government, appoints their officials, and can dismiss them at will.” On the other hand, the legislative function is “exer- cised by the king in concert with the parliament” based on Article 104. Moreover, he notes that legislative assemblies “are established in a diversity of forms according to the conditions unique to each nation and the necessities thereof, and upon the manner of thought prevalent at that time.” These obser- vations on the 1848 constitution are accurately reflected in Tsuda’s translation of his notes on Vissering’s lectures on constitutional law, where they appear in the following form:
Originally the three powers derive solely from the monarch.48 The authority to determine the salaries and positions of the various officials, to appoint and dismiss, promote or demote them, is the respon- sibility of the head of state.49 The people or their representatives share with the monarch the authority to make the laws.50 The laws regulating the election of legislative representatives vary according to the degree of civilization evidenced in the constitutional laws of each country. 51
47 Charles Louis de Montesquieu, De l’esprit des lois, translated into English by Thomas Nugent, The Spirit of the Laws, Book 11, Chapter 6. Vissering/Tsuda, Taisei kokuhō ron, 122. 48 Vissering/Tsuda, Taisei kokuhō ron, 122. 49 Ibid., 146. 50 Ibid., 126. 51 Ibid., 146.
So what were the institutional guarantees preserving the mutually restraining balance between the executive and legislative powers? Vissering cites two institutional arrangements. The first is the establishment of a bicameral legis- lature to inhibit the abuse of legislative power; in the Dutch constitution of 1848, the parliament, or States-General, was divided into a first and second chamber. The second is the monarch’s power to dissolve the parliament. In his lectures on constitutional law, as well as in De grondtrekken, Vissering taught Nishi and Tsuda that “the representative assembly (daimin sōkai 代民総会) shall be divided into two chambers” and that “the power to dissolve the repre- sentative assembly shall reside with the government.”52 For Vissering, another “important principle of the constitution” was the sys- tem of ministerial responsibility. In De grondtrekken he proclaimed: “The king is inviolable. The ministers are responsible.” In other words, he acknowledges the inviolability of the sovereign powers of the king, but advocates a system of ministerial responsibility as a mechanism for enabling the legislative power to serve as a check on the executive. Similarly, in his lectures to Nishi and Tsuda, Vissering stated, “According to the theories of constitutional monarchy, respon- sibility for national affairs is vested solely in the prime minister; the monarch is above question or reproach.” Having established this point, Vissering strongly emphasizes the significance of “the responsibility of the prime minister” in both a legal and a political sense, arguing for a “system in which the representa- tive assembly constantly checks the policies of the government.” 53 Thus, the doctrine of the balance between executive and legislative powers as embodied in the two opposing forces of monarch and parliament formed the core of Vissering’s lectures on constitutional law. This was formulated against the background of the liberal reforms that produced the features of the 1848 Dutch constitution. Thorbecke understood constitutional monarchy as a “liberal monarchy partnered with a parliamentary system” and saw the system of ministerial responsibility as the most important mechanism for creating balanced cooperation between the monarch and his government, which “guar- antees unity,” and the parliament, “which guarantees liberty.”54 For the liberal intellectuals who introduced the system of responsible cabinets with the 1848 reform of the Dutch constitution, establishment of ministerial responsibility was the touchstone of the constitutional monarchy. The “harmony” between unity and liberty, government and legislature resulting from the restraining balance of executive and legislative powers was no less than the realization of
52 Ibid., 166. 53 Ibid., 168–171. 54 Thorbecke, “Narede,” 3.
Legal theories regarding the various forms of constitutional government base their conclusions on the developments that have brought the European nations to their present state; but if you were to ask me if they are directly applicable to your country, I would reply in the negative. Your country must have legal institutions that are genuinely suited to it.56
Tsuda, who at the time “believed constitutional government to be the most perfect form of government,” described the feeling these words gave him as one of “considerable consternation.” But these remarks were a direct out- growth of the way that Vissering’s jurisprudence structured its approach to the issues of law, history, and civilization. For Vissering, the constitutional govern- ment that he informed Nishi and Tsuda was the ideal form of government was one specifically suited to the conditions of present-day Europe, which were the result of a lengthy historical development of a civilized society founded upon a conception of human rights and duties. The more that Nishi and Tsuda came to understand Vissering’s jurisprudence, with its insistence that legal systems are shaped by the culture, history, and level of civilization attained by specific national societies, the more they came to realize that a direct translation and
55 Vissering/Tsuda, Taisei kokuhō ron, 166. 56 Tsuda Mamichi, “Tenka kokka,” in Tsuda Mamichi zenshū, vol. 2, 410–11.
4 The Sorai School and the Reexamination of Confucianism
The traces of Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi’s intellectual struggle with the jurisprudence of Simon Vissering can be discerned in Tsuda’s “Taisei hōgaku yōryō” (An Overview of Western Law), written as explanatory notes introduc- ing his translation of Vissering’s lectures on constitutional law, Taisei kokuhō ron, and in Nishi’s Hyakuichi shinron (New Essay on the Unity of All Teachings, published in 1874).57 In “Taisei hōgaku yōryō,” Tsuda begins by restating the distinction between law and morality that Vissering had articulated in the introduction to his lec- tures on natural law: “The study of law differs from morality. Morality is devoted to teaching benevolence, righteousness, civility, and faith, while the study of law treats only the right and wrong of matters and the applicability or inap- plicability of principles.”58 Regarding the main theme of the study of law, he wrote, “Jurisprudence speaks of such things solely in human terms…Through the development of civilization, people have obtained equal rights.” In a civi- lized society, there is equality of rights and duties under the law. Having stated this, Tsuda directly confronts the problem of the Japanese legal culture of his day: “In our country, samurai still hold the power to kill a commoner who they say has offended their honor. I respectfully submit to you this question: Does this power represent omnipotence or injustice?”59
57 Nishi Amane’s Hyakuichi shinron was published in 1874 through the help of his friend, Yamamoto Kakuma. For approximate dating of the work see Mori Ōgai, “Nishi Amane den,” 142; Ōkubo Toshiaki, “Kaisetsu,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 634–637; Hasunuma Keisuke, Nishi Amane ni okeru tetsugaku no seiritsu, 21–41. According to Hasunuma, “it is highly probable that this work was written between Keiō 3.4 and Keiō 3.12.12, when [Nishi] fled to Osaka” (p. 40). Ōkubo Toshiaki also assumes it to have been written prior to the Meiji Restoration, during Nishi’s sojourn in Kyoto. 58 Tsuda Mamichi, “Taisei hōgaku yōryaku,” in Tsuda Mamichi zenshū, vol. 1, 107. 59 Ibid., 107.
Similarly, in Hyakuichi shinron, Nishi writes that while “the law is fundamen- tally based upon human nature,” a distinction should be made between moral- ity and the law. “If I may first describe the mode of thought characteristic of the law, it is that it stresses the word ‘justice’ (sei 正), while morality stresses the word ‘good’ (zen 善).”60 In other words, while morality is based on the concept of the good, law is based on the idea of justice, fairness, or impartiality. According to Nishi, the capacity for determining justice or fairness is something with which “human beings are equipped by nature” and is grounded in their “mind of self-interest and self-reliance” (jiai jiritsu no kokoro 自愛自立の心).61 From this mind of self-interest and self-reliance arise the “rights of independence” (jishu jiritsu no ken 自主自立の権) and the “rights of property”(shoyū no ken 所 有の権), and various kinds of “rights” (ken 権) and “duties” (gi 義) are estab- lished based upon “the instinct of association” and the “tendency toward mutual assistance and reciprocity” (aiseiyō no michi 相生養の道).62 For Nishi, “these rights and duties all harmonize with the mind of self-interest and self- reliance with which human beings are naturally equipped.” It is precisely these equal “rights and duties” among fellow humans based on both their individ- ual mind of self-interest and self-reliance and their instinct to associate with others that provide “the roots of law” (hō no kongen 法の根元) that inform “civilized rule” (bunmei no chi 文明の治) as “human culture develops and human intelligence advances, and the realm over which they preside gradually expands.”63 Thus, based on what he had learned during his years of study in the Netherlands, Nishi was pointing out that government in civilized societies was grounded in law, which in turn was rooted in rights and duties derived from human nature itself. As with Tsuda, this perspective led Nishi to be critical of the legal culture of Japan and the rest of East Asia. He denounced the concepts of the Legalist philosophers (hōka 法家) of ancient China as a “truly hateful way of construing the law,” because it “glorifies the monarch and abases his subjects.” He attacked Chinese legal culture (including Japan in its sphere of influence) as that of “a country which from ancient times has delighted in enslaving its people and whose national character does not flinch when its people lose their human rights (hitotoshite hitotaru no ken 人として人 たるの権).”64
60 Nishi Amane, Hyakuichi shinron, in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 263. 61 Ibid., 273. 62 Ibid., 282–84. 63 Ibid., 273–274, 283. 64 Ibid., 260–261.
From the preceding exposition by Tsuda and Nishi, we can see that they accurately understood the philosophy of law and civil rights that underlay Vissering’s five-course curriculum and especially its foundational course on natural law—even to the point of using this knowledge to criticize the legal concepts and culture of their own tradition as deficient in awareness of the importance of rights. Yet we should not overlook the fact that, particularly for Nishi, this was not merely an extrinsic critique of traditional legal and political concepts; rather, it was the result of a deeply internalized intellectual struggle.
“Those Who Truly Wish to Learn from Confucius in Today’s World” In the opening passages of Hyakuichi shinron, Nishi observes that law and poli- tics on the one hand, and morality on the other, each strive to achieve the Confucian ideal of benevolent monarchy (ōsei 王政), which aims at “a condi- tion in which the people may nourish the living and bury the dead, living out their lives in peace and contentment and even after death finding no cause for resentment.”65 But he also points out that law and politics are distinct from morality and “have different methods.”66 The argument that Nishi develops from this standpoint is a critique of the “degeneration of Confucianism” from the Han dynasty to the Song Neo- Confucians. Nishi marshals the following arguments against the political and scholarly doctrines of Neo-Confucianism. According to him, the Neo- Confucianists “believe that if sincerity and purity of mind are achieved then peace will prevail in the realm.” In other words, moral suasion by the rulers will naturally edify and pacify the populace. Government is thus understood as an extension of morality. Because of this, Neo-Confucian philosophy leans heav- ily toward individual moral cultivation and tends to undervalue the science of government.67 He points out that this doctrine has hindered the development in East Asia of civilized notions of legal rights and the rule of law. Here, Nishi emphasizes that this conflation of morality and politics in the views of Neo- Confucians does not represent the original teachings or philosophy of Con fucius himself. For Nishi, Confucius was first and foremost “a scholar of politics” who sought constantly to deepen and broaden his understanding of the “polit- ical institutions that could provide a comprehensive basis for governing the realm” and of the “rites” (rei 礼) that corresponded to what “later generations would call constitutions and laws.” Rei in this context refers broadly to all the
65 This formulation by Nishi is essentially a gloss on a passage from Mencius, Liang Hui Wang I. 66 Nishi, Hyakuichi shinron, in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 237. 67 Ibid., 236–238.
Thus, those who truly wish to learn from Confucius in today’s world should investigate the written records of our country and of the twenty- two dynasties of China, and more recently, study the various institutions and methods of the Western countries and apply them to their own endeavors, thereby discerning through direct experience which are the most useful, which are advantageous, and which are harmful.69
It is clear that Nishi’s understanding of Confucius, as well as his interpretation of the history of Confucian thought and his pointed critique of Song Neo- Confucianism, owes much to the teachings of Ogyū Sorai, one of the most influ ential Confucian philosophers from the late seventeenth century into the eigh teenth century in Japan. Nishi himself indicated this when he bolstered his own preceding argument with the observation that “this is what Sorai meant when he said things like ‘the Way of the ancient sage-kings consists solely of rites and music (reigaku 礼楽)’ and ‘the Way is the Way of the ancient sage- kings.’”70 As noted in the Introduction, Nishi had a transformative encounter with the writings of Ogyū Sorai as a young instructor at the domainal academy in Tsuwano. In Hyakuichi shinron, Nishi criticized Neo-Confucianism for its fixation on moral cultivation and its linkage of politics and government with the moral perfection of the ruler. He found that the uniqueness of Sorai’s teachings lay in the assertion that the central task of Confucianism was the investiga- tion of the rites, music, punishments, and administration (reigaku keisei 礼楽刑政) created by the “ancient sage-kings”—the foundational rulers of ancient China. Unfortunately there is almost no extant documentary evidence that would allow us to assess how deeply Nishi pursued this project of Sorai’s as a Confucian scholar. Even so, we can see from Hyakuichi shinron that
68 Ibid., 238–246. 69 Ibid., 242. 70 Ibid., 242.
71 The Six Classics of Chinese Confucianism 六経 (Chinese, Liu Jing; Japanese, Rikkei) are: The Book of Poetry 詩経, The Book of History 書経, The Book of Changes 易経, The Book of Rites 礼記, The Book of Music 楽記, and the Spring and Autumn Annals 春秋. They are also commonly referred to as the Five Classics 五経, as the Book of Music is not extant. 72 Nishi, Hyakuichi shinron, in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 249–252.
According to Nishi, government by virtue was based upon “tolerant, honest, and loving customs” that “could not really be maintained much beyond the Three Dynasties [of Chinese antiquity] when human culture was as yet largely undeveloped.” But “as culture progressed,” “as culture spread across the four seas,” and “as intelligence superior to that of the ancients developed,” it was “the natural Way of heaven” that “since government by administration and laws is the true path of the art of governance, this true path should become increasingly clear as people became more fully civilized.”73 In other words, Vissering’s jurisprudence, with its emphasis on the relationships between law, history, and civilization, had taught Nishi to look upon the idealized and peace- ful Confucian utopia of the Three Dynasties of Chinese antiquity as “uncivi- lized” (mikai 未開). On this basis, he argued that as human history advanced and civilization progressed, law began to become differentiated from rites, and effective governance began to become impossible without the systems of administration that are created by law. As a concrete example, Nishi cites a famous statement of Confucius from the Analects: “The people may be made to follow a path of action but they can- not be made to understand it.”74 Nishi interprets this in light of an anecdote from the historical chronicle Chunqiu Zuoshi zhuan (Commentary of Zuo on the Spring and Autumn Annals; compiled early fourth century bce). In the anecdote, Confucius criticizes Zhao Yang for having the penal code cast as an inscription on a massive bronze vessel, and argues that if the common people are able to refer to this inscription, it will endanger the position of the aristo- crats who administer the law. According to Nishi, nascent within the Confucian ideal of government is a view of law and politics that would prefer to keep the common people out of the chambers of government and the process of law- making and prevent them from interfering in administrative or legal affairs. For Nishi, this view is the origin of “the idea of keeping the common people stupid.” Against the Confucian ideal, Nishi proposes as a “just and impartial” form of rule the ideal of constitutional monarchy he learned from Vissering, with sovereign and people as equal participants in the law.
On the one hand you have the claim that aristocrats should be able to keep the penal code a secret, enjoying unrestricted exercise of their own authority and preventing the people from involving themselves in mat- ters of law. On the other, you have a situation, as in the contemporary
73 Ibid., 252–256. 74 Lunyu, Tai Bo, 9; translated into English by James Legge, Confucian Analects, in The Chinese Classics, vol 1, 75.
West, in which the monarch establishes the laws together with the peo- ple and cannot simply use them as he pleases. Tell me: Which of these is just and impartial (kōhei 公平), and which is selfish and unfair (shikyoku 私曲)?75
Thus, Nishi transforms the traditional Confucian ideal of benevolent “monar- chy” (ōsei 王政) into the theory of a constitutional monarchy in which the des- potism of the monarch is constrained and he cooperates with his people in the making of the laws. If we compare this argument of Nishi’s with the political philosophy advanced by Yokoi Shōnan that was touched on at the beginning of this chapter, the fol- lowing points might be made. First of all, both men experienced “the Western impact” not merely as a national crisis, but as an intellectual challenge to the Confucian tradition. They took the view of the West prevalent during most of the Tokugawa period, which held that Western civilization was of interest merely for its material culture—but turned it around. Their reinterpretation of Confucianism opened the path to an appreciation and importation of modern Western political institutions and the legal and political thought associated with them. In this respect, there is considerable commonality of approach between the scholarly activities of Yokoi and Nishi. Yokoi, however, attempted to breathe new life into the Neo-Confucian ideal of kō 公 (for which the closest Western equivalent is the concept of “public”). He argued for “education for all the people and households of the realm”76—not merely the ruling elite—and advocated broad-based popular participation in debate and discussion (tōron 討論) in all aspects of society. In support of this vision he cited the “public- spirited government” (kōkyō no sei 公共之政) of Yao, Shun, and the Three Dynas ties in ancient China, enlisting Confucian archetypes to validate his pioneering efforts to introduce Western theories of parliamentary government to Japan. In contrast to this, Nishi located the unique character of Western constitu- tional government not merely in popular participation in politics, but in the theories and mechanisms that placed “just and impartial” limitations on power, so that “the monarch establishes the laws together with the people and cannot simply use them as he pleases.” Nishi had also learned that the institutions mak- ing this possible had been formed in the course of Europe’s long historical pur- suit of liberty and progress toward civilization. For Nishi, the Confucian worldview that could unquestionably accept the era of Yao, Shun, and the Three Dynasties as the ideal polity had already disintegrated. Because of this, Nishi
75 Nishi, Hyakuichi shinron, 257. 76 Yokoi Shōnan, “Gakkō mondō sho,” in Yokoi Shōnan ikō, 4.
5 Nishi Amane’s “Gidai sōan”: A New Concept of Government
Upon their return from the Netherlands in February 1866 (Keiō 1.12), Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi were immediately ordered by the Tokugawa sho- gunate to produce translations of the notes they had compiled during their five-course curriculum of study under Simon Vissering. They were both given the position of jikisan 直参 (direct shogunal audience), and in October (Keiō 2.9), the shogun Tokugawa Yoshinobu, then temporarily resident in Kyoto, sum moned them to his service in the imperial capital. What they encountered when they got there was the chaos accompanying the latter days of the Tokugawa regime—the so-called bakumatsu period. Nishi wrote: “I am pro- foundly distressed by the realities of the terribly bloodthirsty state into which our country has been plunged by the changing times.”77 In this threatening
77 Nishi Amane, letter to Matsuoka Rintarō, Keiō 2.20.12 (1866), in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 3, 626.
78 Nishi, “Nishi-ke furyaku,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 3, 762. 79 For research which interprets “Gidai sōan” as a plan by the Tokugawa shogunate to imple- ment some form of parliamentary or consultative governmental system in its relations with the domains, see Osatake Takeki, Ishin zengo ni okeru rikken shisō and Nihon kensei- shi taikō; Ōkubo Toshiaki, “Kaidai,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2; Mitani Ta’ichirō, “Bakumatsu Nihon ni okeru kōkyō kannen no tenkai.” In his research, Haraguchi Kiyoshi has described the Nishi plan as “one conception of kōgi seitai,” but he also focuses atten- tion on the relationship between the legislative and executive powers in the plan. See Haraguchi, “Boshin sensō horon,” and “Meiji Dajōkansei seiritsu no seijiteki haikei.” In contrast, representative works treating “Gidai sōan” as a proposal for “Tokugawa absolut- ism” include Ishii Takashi, Gakusetsu hihan: Meiji ishin ron, Zōtei Meiji ishin no kokusaiteki kankyō, and Boshin sensō ron; Tanaka Akira, Meiji ishin seijishi kenkyū and Bakumatsu ishin shi no kenkyū. 80 Nishi Amane, “Gidai sōan,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 169.
81 Ibid., 169–170. 82 Ibid., 170. 83 Ibid., 170–171.
“Separation of the Three Powers” After this introduction, what Nishi develops in the main text of “Gidai sōan” is a theory of political institutions grounded in the separation of powers: “The key to Western systems of government is the principle of the separation of the three powers.”85 He begins by proposing these three powers as “the legislative power” (rippō no ken 立法之権), “the executive power” (gyōhō no ken 行法之権), and “the judicial power” (shuhō no ken 守法之権). He then states that “because the three powers are all independent and separate from one another, selfish or partisan behavior is made difficult; when each of the three powers fulfills its responsibilities to the utmost, the greater objectives of the system as a whole are attained.” He goes on to emphasize the particular importance of the sepa- ration of the legislative and executive powers: “The deliberative assembly (giseiin 議政院) shall be charged with the national legislative power; the sho- gunal government (kubō-sama seifu 公方様政府) shall be charged with the national executive power; the judicial power shall, for the time being, be sub- sumed within the executive powers of the individual domains.”86 For Nishi,
84 Ibid., 171–172. 85 Ibid., 174. 86 Ibid., 174. Nishi’s prescriptions for judicial authority involved leaving domanial law and its enforcement to the discretion of the domains, with the Tokugawa government exercising sovereignty and guardianship over the entire country—essentially following the existing legal structure of the Tokugawa regime. Because of this, Nishi’s argument here does not necessarily signify a clearly independent judiciary. Yet we should not overlook his ulti- mate goal of gradually advancing a tripartite separation of powers, as indicated by his use of the phrase “for the time being.”
“the greater objectives of the system as a whole” were precisely in the establish- ment of a separation of powers and especially the mutually restraining bal- ance of power between the executive and legislative powers that Vissering had stressed in his lectures on constitutional law. It is important to note here that this proposal of a separation of executive and legislative powers represented a sharp criticism of the advocates of adop- tion of Western institutions who were hastily attempting to establish parlia- mentary government. For example, the first two points in the “Taisei hōkan kenpaku sho” (Memorial on Return of Sovereignty; commonly known as the Tosa Memorial and submitted to the shogunate by the daimyo of Tosa, Yamanouchi Toyonobu) read as follows:
1. Authority to govern the whole country is vested in the Imperial court. Therefore all legislation of the Imperial country should originate with a Kyoto Deliberative Assembly (giseijo). 2. This assembly should be divided into two sections, with legislators of the upper to be lords and nobles, and those of the lower to include rear vas- sals and even commoners, all to be selected from upstanding and sincere men.87
Here “deliberative government” is clearly advocated, but the locus of executive power is unclear, and legislative and executive powers remain unseparated. Against such calls for deliberative government (kōgi seitai ron), Nishi spoke from the perspective of the separation of powers to warn that:
If a deliberative assembly (giseiin) is presently created that is equipped with both legislative and executive powers, this would be like adding wings to a tiger, as the saying goes. It would lead to autocracy. There is no telling what sort of regrettable misfortunes might result from the selfish and unregulated behavior this would encourage.88
In other words, Nishi feared that a monopoly over both the legislative and executive powers by a deliberative assembly would invite despotism. Nishi was acutely aware that in the wake of the return of sovereignty to the emperor the political situation was such that the status and role of any delib- erative assembly—even one limited to the determination of national policy
87 Ishin Shiryō Hensankai, eds., Ishinshi; English translation from Marius B. Jansen, Sakamoto Ryōma and the Meiji Restoration, 316. 88 Nishi, “Gidai sōan,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 174.
89 Kokudaka was a measure of the rice productivity of an area of land, based on a unit of volume, the koku (about 180 liters of polished rice). In early modern Japan, the status and rank of daimyo and their retainers was determined by the size of their fiefs or stipends as measured in koku. What Nishi is saying here is premised on the idea that even after the return of sovereignty to the emperor (taisei hōkan), the Tokugawa shogun would remain the preeminent lord of the realm, still possessed of vast landholdings and power. Yet as a result of the Meiji Restoration and the Boshin Civil War, this premise would be com- pletely overturned, supplanted by the new Meiji government.
Plan for a New Form of Government Previous research has sometimes interpreted Nishi’s plan, since it gave the Tokugawa shogun the title and powers of taikun (great prince) and reduced the emperor and his court to political impotence, as “a manifestation of the push towards structuring a Tokugawa absolutism” linked to the so-called Keiō reforms of the shogunal administration initiated by Tokugawa Yoshinobu in 1866 (Keiō 2).92 Such interpretations of the significance of the Keiō reforms point first of all to the shift to a system featuring a higher level of bureaucrati- zation, with the creation of specific administrative departments for the army, navy, domestic and foreign affairs, finance, and so forth. Reorganization and modernization of the shogunal armed forces was also part of these reforms. In the background of these efforts was a reform proposal made by Léon Roches, French minister to Japan, that envisioned the establishment of a more perma- nent bureaucratic structure, a modern standing army, and the implementation of a centralized system of prefectural administration as “an essential means of whittling away the power of the great domains.”93 The principal agents propel- ling reform along the lines suggested by Roches were a group of Francophile shogunal bureaucrats, led by Oguri Tadamasa and Kurimoto Jōun, in the office of the kanjō bugyō 勘定奉行 (often translated as “commissioners of finance”).94 Interpretations which see these various reforms as guided by a concept of cre- ating an absolutist state under the aegis of the Tokugawa shogunate also tend to position Nishi’s plan as an extension of such a vision. Yet as we have seen, the powers that Nishi’s “Gidai sōan” entrusts to the tai- kun—exclusive executive power, including that of bureaucratic appointments
90 Nishi, “Gidai sōan,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 177–180. 91 Ibid., 175–177. 92 See Note 79 of this chapter. 93 Nihon Shiseki Kyōkai, Yodo Inaba-ke monjo, 215. 94 Kikegawa Hiromasa, “Keiō bakusei kaikaku ni tsuite” criticizes previous research dealing with Oguri and Kurimoto as prominent actors in the Keiō reforms.
The power to appoint or dismiss the ministers of the five ministries resides with the taikun; however, at the time of selection the deliberative assembly (giseiin) shall propose three candidates, of which one shall be appointed [by the taikun].
In “Taisei kansei setsuryaku” (A Brief Explanation of Western Governmental Systems), a text believed to be written contemporaneously with “Gidai sōan,” Nishi noted that:
When the minister of each department is to be selected, the lower house proposes the names of three candidates, of which the monarch selects one, so that overall the power of the legislature and of the monarch stand in opposition to one another. However, if the monarch should be at fault in some matter, he still cannot be punished for it, so there is a rule that the minister of the appropriate department must accept the blame. There are instances in which a minister himself has committed some
95 Nishi, “Gidai sōan,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 174–175.
oversight, and the national assembly has impeached him and caused him to be dismissed. The ministers are considered to be in the employ of the monarch; however, each minister must work to reconcile his own opin- ions with the decisions of the parliament.96
Vissering had taught that in Dutch constitutional monarchy, since the mon- arch is inviolable as sovereign, it was essential for the legislative power’s restraint of the executive to have a system of ministerial responsibility in which government ministers could assume responsibility for errors in place of the monarch. The method for selecting government ministers proposed in Nishi’s plan was a concrete institutional response to his strong awareness of importance of this type of ministerial responsibility. Vissering interpreted the system for selecting the members of the Hoge raad der Nederlanden (Supreme Court of the Netherlands), in which five candidates were nominated by the lower house (Tweede Kamer), from which one was selected for appointment by the king, as an institutional guarantee restraining the growth of the power of the executive.97 It is possible that Nishi’s argument is an application of this idea. Moreover, in “Gidai sōan” the procedure for selection of ministers was followed by a “prohibition” (kinrei 禁令) stating that ministers must faithfully obey the laws and ordinances enacted by the deliberative assembly, and that any delay in their execution was strictly forbidden:
Prohibition: When the minister receives laws and ordinances enacted by the giseiin, those not specifically dated shall be executed immediately; any delay shall constitute malfeasance.98
Here we can see Nishi attempting to apply to the political context of late Tokugawa Japan the constraints on the executive that can be exerted by the legislative branch when a system of ministerial responsibility has been institutionalized. In Hyakuichi shinron, Nishi managed, through a reexamination of Confucianism, to criticize the “selfish and unfair” (shikyoku 私曲) aspects of the traditional monarchy and to discover in Western political institutions a condition of “fairness and impartiality” (kōhei 公平) “in which the monarch establishes the laws together with the people and cannot simply use them as he pleases.” From a similar perspective, in “Taisei kansei setsuryaku” he argues
96 Nishi Amane, “Taisei kansei setsuryaku,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 192. 97 Vissering, De grondtrekken van het Nederlandsch staatsbestuur, 38. 98 Nishi, “Gidai sōan,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 180.
Our country has its own history and past; a culture with both enlightened and unenlightened aspects; manners and customs both desirable and undesirable. None of this can be changed overnight.
Yet he argued that “if the plan presented above is put into effect, then goals for the future may be established, and year by year these reforms will take shape.”100 In other words, Nishi’s vision was for gradualist reform based on the implementation of the institutional framework he outlined and the setting of goals for the future that took into consideration Japan’s historical situation, its
99 Ibid., 174. 100 Ibid., 183.
6 The Founding of the Meirokusha and the Birth of a New Knowledge
Unfortunately, the concept of a new political order based on Vissering’s discus- sions of constitutional monarchy as first articulated by Tsuda Mamichi in Taisei kokuhō ron and given further development in Nishi Amane’s “Gidai sōan” came to naught with the disintegration of the Tokugawa regime. In January 1868, an alliance of domains led by Satsuma and Chōshū and joined by Tosa, Aki, Owari, Echizen, and others set out to overthrow the Tokugawa shogunate, armed with an edict proclaiming the restoration of impe- rial rule. With this, a new government came into being, and the emperor and imperial court were placed once again at the center of the political world. The Bōshin Civil War ensued, a brief conflict in which the forces of the new imperial government emerged victorious over those who were still loyal to the Tokugawa shogunate. These events comprised what is known as the Meiji Restoration. With it, nearly 250 years of Tokugawa rule collapsed, replaced by a Meiji govern- ment dominated by the domains of Satsuma and Chōshū. As a result, Nishi and Tsuda were also temporarily removed from the center of power. Their scholarly accomplishments and knowledge, however, were too valuable and useful to be wasted by the new Meiji government, which they were soon invited to join. Yet from their point of view—after all, under the old regime they had risen to the status of personal advisors to the shogun—what the new government was offering them in terms of position and responsibilities was bound to be disap- pointing, at least initially. In the fourth year of the new Meiji era (1871 in the Western calendar), Nishi wrote the following in a letter to Professor Vissering:
I am presently engaged in the translation of European works in the Ministry of the Military; it is not my pleasure, but only for my livelihood.101
101 Nishi Amane, letter to Simon Vissering 15 December 1871, in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 200. In 1870, Nishi Amane
In the same letter, Nishi explained to Vissering the relationship between the current political situation in Japan and his own scholarly pursuits:
I have derived immense benefit from your lectures on the sciences of the state [staatswetenschappen]… However, Tsuda and I have been unable to make practical application of them to the Japanese people. This is because Satsuma and Chōshū are mostly the dominant faction at present and we must follow their lead. But the translation of these works [Tsuda’s Taisei kokuhō ron and Nishi’s Bankoku kōhō] has exerted more than a little influence on the changes taking place at the national level.102
Here Nishi is reporting that Taisei kokuhō ron and Bankoku kōhō, the fruits of their study abroad, were playing a significant role in the enterprise of con- structing a new nation upon which Japan was now embarked; but he is also confessing to his former teacher the chagrin he feels at being swept away from the center of power by the events of the Meiji Restoration and thus rendered unable to directly apply the knowledge gained from Vissering’s teachings to the Japanese political situation. However, Nishi and Tsuda’s work did not end here. They would continue their scholarly investigations based on the foundation in jurisprudence given them by Vissering, and would join with their colleagues Katō Hiroyuki, Sugi Kōji, and Kanda Takahira from the Bansho Shirabesho (Kaiseijo), along with Fukuzawa Yukichi, Mori Arinori, and others to found the Meirokusha (明六社 Meiji Six Society) and participate in wide-ranging journalistic and intellectual activities. Eventually, in a continuation of their concerns from the Tokugawa period onward, they would turn a critical eye upon the manner in which the new Meiji government was concentrating power in the executive and subordi- nating the legislative functions to its control. In 1874 (Meiji 7), Nishi published “Renga sekizō no setsu” (An Essay on Brick Construction) in Meiroku zasshi 明六雑誌, the journal of the Meirokusha. It began with the following passage:
When traveling in Europe, I saw brick buildings five to six stories high and six hundred to a thousand feet wide. Moreover, they are so firm and strong that they cannot be rocked or bent, and they are formed on four
joined the Hyōbushō (Ministry of Military Affairs), beginning his career as a bureaucrat in the Meiji government, chiefly with the Hyōbushō and its successor, the Ministry of the Army. 102 Ibid., 201.
sides by magnificently high brick walls. This method of construction has recently been used on the streets to the north of Shinbashi in buildings that are worth seeing even though they do not compare in strength and firmness with those of Europe.103
Pseudo-Western constructions of red brick began to rise “to the north of Shinbashi” in Tokyo in the fifth year of Meiji, 1872. Nishi, who at the time lived nearby, may have recalled the streetscapes of Leiden when he saw these rising red brick symbols of the social transformation taking place in the transition from the Tokugawa to the Meiji era. The essay that begins with this passage so redolent of the bunmei kaika 文明開化 or “Westernization” of the times does not restrict itself, however, to a simple commentary on contemporary culture. He notes that in brick construction, the individual bricks must “be fine and strong in character as well as square and upright in shape.” If they are not, and the builders “arbitrarily try to pile one on another,” the bricks will erode, wear down, and damage one another. “How,” Nishi asks, “can builders hope to con- struct high buildings with such materials?” This leads Nishi to the political observation that “fineness and strength as well as squareness and uprightness is the nature of bricks, and protecting human rights is the nature of man.” Like the bricks that will form an imposing and dignified building, the most important foundation for the construction of a nation is the protection and strengthening of individual rights rooted in human nature and guaranteed under a just and impartial system of laws. However, in contemporary Japan, Nishi argues, “the bricks are basically fragile and the rights of the people are especially weak!” Not only that, “officials now injure the rights of individuals below with arbitrary oppression” and “those below are unable to protect their rights.”104 Thus, by comparing rights to bricks, Nishi draws attention to the problem of insufficient popular consciousness of the law and the weakness of the concept of rights in Japan, while at the same time delivering a frontal assault on the current Meiji government for exercising “arbitrary oppression” to “injure the rights” of the people. Furthermore, in an essay called “Kokumin kifū ron” (National Character), Nishi depicts “the modern national character of the Japanese” as “this charac- ter of our people to regard themselves as slaves since they have accepted oppression and have been unable to cast off servility” to “a despotic govern- ment.” He observes:
103 Nishi Amane, “Renga sekizō no setsu,” in Meirokusha, Meiroku zasshi, vol. 1, 161; translated into English by William R. Braisted, assisted by Adachi Yasushi and Kikuchi Yūji, 52–53. 104 Nishi Amane, “Renga sekizō no setsu,” 162–63; Braisted, 53–54.
It may be said that the national character is best and most convenient for despotic government when despotic government is above while the peo- ple are below, when the people regard themselves as slaves while honor- ing despotic government, and when the people conduct themselves with simple directness and carry out their affairs with loyal faithfulness.105
The “simple directness” that Nishi sees as an essential component in the Japanese character is something that he associates with “easily losing rights.” He argues that the most important challenge faced by contemporary Japanese society is “to introduce legal studies” in order to overcome ingrained “Asiatic despotism” (Ajia-fū no desupochikku 亜細亜風の専擅) and its susceptibility to loss of rights.106
From the Reform of Political Systems to the Fundamental Reform of Society In this chapter we have examined the world of legal studies introduced to Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi during their studies in the Netherlands with Simon Vissering, and then in the latter half, have turned primarily to an eluci- dation of Nishi’s intellectual endeavor. Nishi strove to assimilate the essential elements of political institutions of the Western nations into an attempt at reorganizing the Tokugawa regime into a “fair and impartial” form of govern- ment. His “Gidai sōan,” with its conception of a limited monarchy based on a Western-style separation of powers, was the culmination of this effort. As non- Western intellectuals, Nishi and Tsuda maintained their concern with such issues in the years following the Meiji Restoration, in a pioneering and self- conscious engagement with the controversial themes of late-nineteenth- century Western thought—natural law, history, and civilization—seeking to redefine them within the political context of a Japan engaged in the struggle to achieve constitutional government. Yet the outcome of Nishi and Tsuda’s overseas studies was not limited solely to the realm of discourse on legal and governmental institutions as outlined above. Entering the Meiji period still stinging from the defeats suffered in the final years of the Tokugawa regime, they approached the intellectual chal- lenges of the new era from a variety of other perspectives as well. Concerned almost exclusively with reform of governmental institutions during the last years of the shogunate, after its collapse they gradually broadened their scope to include a confrontation with the issue of how best to create the type of free
105 Nishi Amane, “Kokumin kifū ron,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol.2, 105–106; Braisted, 389–391. 106 Nishi, “Kokumin kifū ron,” 107; Braisted, 392.
It is first of all a “social” crime of the people themselves [jinmin jiko sedōjō no tsumi 人民自己世道上の罪]. Should those who aspire in the least to intellectual leadership fail to assume the initiative in curing this igno- rance, they are undeniably guilty of a social crime.108
The root cause of the failure of civilization to advance in contemporary Japan is, in his eyes, “a ‘social’ crime of the people”; it lies in the state of collective life they have created for themselves. Nishi then states that “herein, after all, lies the reason why Mori [Arinori] now wants to form this society for science, the arts, and letters,” declaring that the purpose for the establishment of the Meirokusha is to be found in advancing the civilization of Japanese society itself. Thus was born Japan’s first modern academic society, the Meirokusha, and its journal, the Meiroku zasshi. This lead article by Nishi was not only a statement of principles for the inau- gural issue of Meiroku zasshi; it can also be read as a personal statement of his own intention to shift from the type of political reform from above (“trying in good time to lead people tenderly by the hand”) that he had labored to achieve under Tokugawa Yoshinobu in the waning years of the shogunate, toward a
107 Nishi, “Yōji o motte kokugo o shosuru no ron,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 1, 29; Braisted, 4. Braisted uses “enlightenment” rather than “civilization.” The word bunmei kaika 文明開化 is frequently translated as”civilization and enlightenment.” However, as Watanabe Hiroshi has pointed out, the term came into widespread popular usage after Fukuzawa Yukichi used it in his Seiyō jijō gaihen, a translation of an English textbook on political economy to render the title of a chapter on “Civilization” in the original English text. Moreover, Fukuzawa’s translation of the passage draws heavily on Confucian terminology. As a result, in the early Meiji period both bunmei and kaika were used almost interchangeably to signify “civilization.” See Watanabe, Nihon seiji shisōshi: 17–19 seiki, translated into English by David Noble, A History of Japanese Political Thought: 1600–1901, Chapter 20, 21. Of course this is not to suggest that the connotation of “enlightenment” was completely absent from the word kaika; only that one must judge its meaning carefully according to the context. See also note 1 of the Conclusion. 108 Nishi, “Yōji o motte kokugo o shosuru no ron,” 29–30; Braisted, 4.
After all, gentlemen, as far as I know you deduce the whole range of human satisfactions as averages from statistical figures and scientifico- economic formulas. You recognize things like wealth, freedom, comfort, prosperity, and so on as good, so that a man who deliberately and openly went against that tabulation would in your opinion, and of course in mine also, be an obscurantist or else completely mad, wouldn’t he?… Really, to maintain the theory of the regeneration of the whole of man- kind by means of a tabulation of his own best interests is in my opinion the same as…well, as to affirm with Buckle that civilization renders man milder and so less bloodthirsty and addicted to warfare. Logically it appears that that ought to be the result. But… Look round you: everywhere blood flows in torrents, and what’s more as merrily as if it was champagne. There’s our nineteenth century — and it was Buckle’s century too. fyodor dostoyevsky, Notes from the Underground 1
1 The Beginning of Statistical Studies in Japan
One intriguing current of early Meiji scholarship was a phenomenon described by the pioneering historian of statistical studies in Japan, Hayami Akira, as “a kind of statistical fever.”2 He was referring to the high level of interest in the science of statistics on the part of intellectuals, mainly associated with the Meirokusha, including Fukuzawa Yukichi, Sugi Kōji, Tsuda Mamichi, Katō Hiroyuki, and Mitsukuri Rinshō. The earliest introduction of European-style statistical tables to Japan was the publication in 1860 (Man’en 1) of Bankoku seihyō (Statistical Tables of All the Lands of the Earth), translated into Japanese by Okamoto Hakukei and edited by Fukuzawa Yukichi. This was the beginning of a flood of publications, spanning the late Tokugawa period and the first
1 Fyodor Dostoyevsky, translated into English by Jessie Coulson, Notes from the Underground, 30–31. 2 Hayami Akira, “Jinkō tōkei no kindaika katei,” 3.
© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2014 | doi 10.1163/9789004245372_004
3 Katō Hiroyuki, Seiyō kakkoku seisui kyōjaku ichiranhyō (tr. of Maurice Block, Die Machtstellung der europäischen Staaten, 1862), 1868; Obata Tokujirō, Seiyō kakkoku senkoku suitōhyō (tr. of F. Martin, ed., The Statesman’s Year-Book, 1869), 1869; Uchida Masao, ed., Kaigai kokusei bin- ran (tr. of F. Martin., ed., The Statesman’s Year-Book, 1869–70), 1870; Mitsukuri Rinshō, Tōkeigaku 10-kan (tr. of Alexander Moreau de Jonnes, Éléments de statistique, comprenant les principes généraux de cette science, et un aperçu historique de ses progres, 2 ed., 1856), 1874; Kawaji Kandō, Seika hittei kakkoku nenkan (F. Martin, ed., The Statesman’s Year-Book, 1874), 1874; and Hyakuta Jūmei, tr., Tōkeigaku taii, (tr. of D. Kay, “Statistics” in Encyclopaedia Britannica, 8th ed., 1853–60), 1875. 4 For example, Shinbi seihyō (1872) and Jinshin seihyō (1874). 5 Ogyū Sorai, Seidan, 280. 6 Nishi Amane, letter of 12 June 1863 to John Joseph Hoffmann, in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 177. 7 Sugi Kōji, “Statistiek no hanashi,” in Sugi sensei kōen shū zen, 136–137.
Nineteenth-Century Europe: “The Age of the Statistical Spirit” The rise of statistics as a science in the early Meiji period was of course connected to the intense interest the new Meiji government had in what Benedict Anderson has called “the census as the grammar of nationalism”: in other words, the quantitative grasp and control of the population, land, resources and armed forces appropriate to a modern, unified nation-state.9 The Restoration government used the return of domainal land registers to the emperor (hanseki hōkan 藩籍奉還) as an opportunity to undertake the surveys of population, production, land, and military assets required to establish such essential features of the modern state as unified taxation and educational systems and a national conscript army. Perhaps the most urgent task was the modernization of the system of family registers that were the fundamental resource for these efforts. It was in this context that the government first took interest in the European science of statistics, as a political tool for achieving more comprehensive empirical and demographic surveys. Yet it would be quite simplistic to reduce the engagement of the Meiji intel- ligentsia with the new science of statistics to a mere response to the political demands of the Meiji government. Among the intelligentsia were some who approached their involvement with statistics quite critically, or from a com- pletely different perspective. Another factor that should not be overlooked is that even in Europe the modern science of statistics was still in its early days. Sugi Kōji remarked in a speech delivered in 1883 (Meiji 16) that:
The development of statistics is still quite recent. In China we have “The Tribute of Yu” and in the West the census of Moses. Such things
8 On the argument over the Japanese translation of the word “statistics,” see Nihon Tōkei Kyōkai Sōritsu Hyakushūnen Kinen Jigyō Keikaku Iinkai, ed., Meiji .Taishō sutachisuchikku zasshi ･ tōkeigaku zasshi ronbun senshū; Hozumi Nobushige, Hōsō yawa; Okamatsu Kai, “Tōkei yakuji no ryakukō.” 9 Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities, 163–170.
have existed ever since there were people, and their traces have not completely disappeared from human history. But it has been only in the last thirty years or so that it has developed the attributes of a science worthy of the name. Because of this, even in the so-called civilized nations of Europe…it is referred to by people as an infant science.10
Sugi’s perception was that although quasi-statistical surveys had existed in both East and West from ancient times, the development of statistics into a distinct scientific discipline had been very recent, even in Europe. In other words, this “new science of the civilized world” that he and his colleagues were encountering was not simply a product of the Western intellect unfa- miliar to them as non-Western intellectuals; even in contemporary Europe it was a newly created scientific field still in the process of development. But it was not merely an infant and immature science. In his Italian Journey, Goethe laments after a visit to a silk market in Bolzano that he cannot spend more time there inspecting the products for sale, but then says “I console myself with the thought that, in our statistically minded times, all this has probably been printed in books which one can consult if need arise.”11 As this suggests, from the latter half of nineteenth century, Europe would enter upon a “statis- tically minded” era; one in which the science of statistics would come to symbolize the character of the age and its intellectual currents. In recent years, historians of science such as Ian Hacking and Theodore M. Porter have also described the nineteenth century as “the era of the statistical spirit” and “a period fascinated by statistics.” As they point out, amid an ongoing “statis- ticization of society” spurred by the plethora of statistical data available to the general public, the science of statistics established itself as an inde- pendent discipline that exerted enormous influence on the social scientists of the period.12 For the intellectuals of the early Meiji period, statistics was not simply a mathematical tool for efficient government; it was a form of knowledge that supported the entire edifice of Western science and scholar- ship, while at the same time shaking the very foundations of traditional modes of thought. Rising interest in this new science, in the context of the political demands created by the effort to construct a modern nation-state,
10 Sugi Kōji, “Tōkei Gakkō kaikō no ji” (September 1883), in Sugi sensei kōenshū zen, 106. 11 Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Italienische Reise, translated into English by Wystan Hugh Auden and Elizabeth Mayer, Italian Journey, 38. 12 Ian Hacking, The Taming of Chance; Theodore M. Porter, The Rise of Statistical Thinking.
13 Research from the perspective of the history of statistics as a science includes Ōhashi Ryūken, Nihon no tōkeigaku; Yabuuchi Takeshi, Nihon tōkei hattatsu shi kenkyū; Nihon Tōkei Kenkyūjo, ed., Nihon tōkei hattatsu shi; Samejima Tasuyuki, “Meiji ishin to tōkeigaku”; Hayashi Fumihiko, “Nihon tōkeigaku kō.” For an examination of the reception of statistics in early Meiji Japan informed by the work of Michel Foucault and Benedict Anderson, see T. Fujitani, translated by Umemori Naoyuki, “Kindai Nihon ni okeru kenryoku no technology”; Tomiyama Ichirō, “Sokutei to iu gihō.” Yet even these works have not devoted sufficient attention to an internal explanation of the “statistical fever” of the early Meiji period from the perspective of the scholarship and political thought of the intellectuals who were its prime movers. 14 “Maegaki,” in Nihon Tōkei Kyōkai Sōritsu Hyakushūnen Kinen Jigyō Keikaku Iinkai, ed., Meiji ･ Taishōki tōkei shūshi ronbunshū. 15 For a broadly based history of statistics in the Netherlands that also covers Vissering’s work, see Jacques G.S.J. Van Maarseveen, et al., eds., The Statistical Mind in Modern Society. For an earlier study of what Tsuda learned from Vissering’s lectures on statistics (but which does not, however, provide analysis of Tsuda’s own works) see Nishikawa Shunsaku and Onno Steenbeck, “Vissering no keizaigaku to tōkeigaku.” An article published after the original Japanese edition of my book appeared in 2010, treating this subject from a different perspective is Yoshida Tadashi, “Simon Vissering no tōkeigaku.”
In this chapter we will begin with an examination of Vissering’s lectures on statistics, and then, in Chapter 3, build on this with an analysis of the lectures on political economy that clarified the fundamental principles on which the former were based. This should illuminate the nature of the methodologies and images of “civilized society” that Nishi and Tsuda acquired through their encounter with this “new science of the civilized world,” and how they attempted to put this knowledge into practice. As noted in the preceding chap- ter, in his lead article in the first issue of Meiroku zasshi, Nishi Amane called the ignorant state of the Japanese population “a ‘social’ crime of the people them- selves,” and argued that the reform of collective social life was essential if the people were to become “civilized.” Here, I would like to shed some light on the derivation and development of thought concerning this fundamental concept of “society” (or, in Dutch, de maatschappij). Vissering is remembered in modern Japanese history as the person who pro- vided Nishi and Tsuda with substantial training in Western jurisprudence. However, as mentioned in the Introduction, if we examine Vissering’s life, he is better known as a late-nineteenth-century Dutch economist who was well- versed in the most advanced statistical methods of his day. Along with his mas- terwork, Handboek van praktische staathuishoudkunde (Handbook of Practical Political Economy; hereafter Handboek), a multivolume work published around the time of Nishi and Tsuda’s sojourn in Leiden, he wrote a variety of books and papers on statistics and economics and was broadly active in a number of areas extending beyond the world of scholarly research. Vissering was, in fact, one of the leading Dutch economists and statisticians of his day. In view of this, to really address the fundamental aspects of his five-course cur- riculum and fully appreciate the depth, richness, and variety of the scholarly insight embodied in his treatment of politics, economics, and society, it is essential to examine the lectures on political economy and statistics in some detail. By looking at them in relationship to contemporary developments in Dutch politics and academia, we will be able to gain greater insight into the nature and significance of Nishi and Tsuda’s years of overseas study. From this perspective, this chapter focuses on the lectures on statistics. Specifically, I will be investigating three main issues. To begin, I will touch upon the scholarly endeavors of Fukuzawa Yukichi as a pioneer in the intro- duction of statistics to Japan. Then we will compare his work with the presen- tation of Vissering’s statistics lectures in Tsuda’s Hyōki teikō, and focus attention upon some of the unique characteristics of the latter. In addition, a look at some of Vissering’s own manuscript notes for lectures at Leiden University will deepen our understanding of the intellectual world that surrounded them. Finally, I will examine what practical role Nishi and Tsuda’s versions of
Vissering’s lectures played in the political process of the early Meiji period by looking at the influence they exerted on statistical administration within the Meiji government. This will also afford an opportunity to briefly reexamine Fukuzawa Yukichi’s relationship to the use of statistics in government. Why did the early Meiji intellectuals display such an unusually high level of interest in statistics? And how did this interest relate to their thought and actions with regard to the state of Japanese political society itself? In this chap- ter, focusing primarily upon the scholarly activities of Nishi and Tsuda, I will depict one aspect of the intellectual struggle being waged by Japanese intel- lectuals of the late nineteenth century as they sought to understand and assim- ilate the social sciences and humanities of contemporary Europe.
2 Fukuzawa Yukichi’s Outline of a Theory of Civilization
Bankoku seihyō, translated into Japanese by Okamoto Hakukei and edited by Fukuzawa Yukichi, was published in 1860 (Man’en 1). This book, noted for being the first attempt to introduce European statistical tables to Japan, was based on P.A. de Jong’s Statistische tafel van alle landen der aarde (Statistical Tables of All the Lands of the Earth), published in the Netherlands in 1854.16 The preface to the Japanese version relates that Fukuzawa began working on a translation of de Jong but had to suspend work midway when he was selected to accom- pany the 1860 Japanese diplomatic mission to the United States. Okamoto thus completed the work, which Fukuzawa then edited and published upon his return from America. As one might deduce from the title, the book consisted of a list of all 163 countries in the world at the time, with statistical tables presenting relevant information about each of them in eighteen different categories of informa- tion ranging from land area, population, form of government, and head of state to government expenditures, size of standing army, imports and exports, currency exchange rates, and so on. The Preface gave the following reason for the translation of this material: “Recent years have seen the publication of a substantial number of geographical atlases and gazetteers, so there can be lit- tle cause for complaint in terms of the information available for understanding foreign countries. Yet these are all weighty tomes, none of which are as easy to understand at a glance as these tables.”17 As this demonstrates, the intent of
16 Fukuzawa Yukichi, ed., translated by Okamoto Hakukei, Bankoku seihyō. For this work, see Nishikawa Shunsaku, “Bankoku seihyō: Genpyō to honyaku.” 17 Fukuzawa, ed., Bankoku seihyō, 4.
A theory of civilization concerns the development of the human spirit. Its import does not lie in discussing the spiritual development of the individual, but the spiritual development of the people of the nation as a whole. Therefore a theory of civilization may perhaps be termed a theory of the development of the human mind.18
As this demonstrates, Bunmeiron no gairyaku did not conceive of the progress of civilization in terms of “external forms,” but as “the spiritual development of the people,” which it proceeds to analyze as a totality within a consistent theoretical framework. A discussion of the historical methodology employed to grasp and to analyze this spiritual development is the subject of Chapter 4 of Bunmeiron, “The Knowledge and Virtue of the People of a Country.” Fukuzawa states that:
Civilization should not be discussed in terms of an individual but only in terms of an entire nation… This is because civilization is not a matter of the knowledge or ignorance of individuals but of the spirit of entire nations. Thus we can only judge a nation civilized by considering the
18 Fukuzawa Yukichi, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 9; translated into English by David A. Dilworth and G. Cameron Hurst III, 1.
spirit which pervades the whole land. This “spirit” is a manifestation of the knowledge and virtue of the entire population.19
This of course echoes the line from the “Foreword” which spoke of “the devel- opment of the human mind.” Fukuzawa acknowledges that “the workings of the human mind are complex and constantly changing.”
But shall we then conclude that the workings of the human mind depend entirely on chance, and have no rhyme or reason? My reply is, By no means. I say to those who discuss civilization that there is a way to take the measure of the change of the human mind… What is this method? It is to take all the human sentiments in the land en masse, compare them over a long period of time, and draw conclusions on the basis of empirical observation.20
Using this method, it is possible to discover “a determinate pattern” in “the workings of the human mind.” It is like predicting the weather. We can con- clude little from observing a few days or even weeks of sunshine and rain. “But if we were to average up the number of rainy and sunny days in the course of a year, we could predict that sunny days will outnumber rainy ones.” According to Fukuzawa:
The workings of the human mind can be understood similarly. We cannot generalize from one man or one household, but in terms of the nation as a whole we can attain about the same degree of probability as in the case of the weather.21
Fukuzawa sums up these remarks on methodology in the following passage:
…probable patterns within a country cannot be discerned from one event or one thing. Actual conditions can only be determined by taking a broad sampling and making minute comparisons. This method is called “statis- tics” [sutachisuchiku スタチスチク] in the West.22
19 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 75–76; Dilworth and Hurst III, 59. 20 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 80; Dilworth and Hurst III, 63. 21 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 81; Dilworth and Hurst III, 64. 22 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 83; Dilworth and Hurst III, 65. Previous studies of Fukuzawa Yukichi’s involvement with statistics include Nishikawa Shunsaku, “Tōkeigaku”;
The methodology Fukuzawa sees as characteristic of the Western histories of civilization is one grounded in statistical methods; one that does not deal with individuals but with what we would now call aggregate data collected for entire nations, whose totals are then averaged and compared to discover “a determinate pattern” or “definite rules” in the “spirit of the people.” It is clear that this line of reasoning in Fukuzawa owes much to his reading of Buckle, whom he in fact cites here: “As the Englishman Buckle wrote in his History of Civilization in England, if we consider the spirit of a nation as a whole, it is amazing how we can find a determinate pattern in it.”23 Fukuzawa then cites examples of statistics on crime and murder, which he argues fall into definite patterns if taken annually for an entire country. He argues that the number of suicides also has a similarly predictable pattern. But what significance was accorded such statistics in Buckle’s original text? The portion of Buckle’s history that Fukuzawa is referencing here is the first chapter of the general introduction to the first volume. Buckle asserts his intention to “raise history to the level of other branches of knowledge” like the natural sciences. According to Buckle, if the truth of history was sought not in the individual but in the general condition of society, then what at first seemed “irregular and capricious” phenomena of society might be demonstrated to “be in accordance with certain fixed and universal laws” like those governing natu- ral phenomena.24 In documentation of this claim, he cites numerous exam- ples of contemporary statistical research. “Statistics,” he claims, is “a branch of knowledge which, though still in its infancy, has already thrown more light on the study of human nature than all the sciences put together.”25 By focusing their attention on society en masse, gathering data from all over the world and compiling it into mathematical tables, statisticians were able to demonstrate that there are in fact certain fixed rules and laws governing what Buckle called the “moral conduct” of society. As an exemplar of this, Buckle cites the work of the Belgian statistician Adolphe Quételet on “the uniform reproduction of crime”—i.e. the tendency of criminal activity to follow quantifiable patterns of volume and type over time—to affirm that statistics can form a valuable methodological foundation for writing the history of civilization.26
Maruyama Masao, “Bunmeiron no gairyaku o yomu (1),” in Maruyama Masao shū, vol. 13, 247–280; Matsumoto Sannosuke, Meiji shisō ni okeru dentō to kindai, 83–84; Anzai Toshizō, Fukuzawa Yukichi to Seiō shisō, 164–267. 23 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 81–82; Dilworth and Hurst III, 64. 24 Henry Thomas Buckle, History of Civilization in England, vol. 1, 3–5 25 Ibid., 24–25. 26 Ibid., 16–19.
As we see from Buckle’s remarks, statistics was a new science in the process of spectacular growth at the time he was writing. In Buckle’s estimation, no one had made a greater contribution to its development than Quételet, whom he describes as “confessedly the first statistician in Europe.”27 Quételet, in the first half of the nineteenth century, aspired to become “the Newton of statistics,” seeking to discover within society what he called similarly fixed and similarly immutable laws to those that govern the movement of the heavenly bodies, pro- posing the creation of a new science of social physics. In his book Sur l’homme et le développement de ses facultés (On Man and the Development of His Faculties, 1835), this founder of modern statistics stated as a fundamental principle of this methodology the proposition that “the greater the number of individuals one is observing, the more individual particularities, be they physical or moral, are effaced, allowing the series of general facts by virtue of which society exists and sustains itself to predominate.”28 Only by observing society en masse rather than as individuals might one elicit from human activity laws similar to those govern- ing natural phenomena. On this basis, one might then depict society as an aggre- gation of individuals that in itself possessed a certain inherent order embodying these natural laws. Thus, the divine order posited by eighteenth-century natural theology was replaced with concepts of empirical regularity and statistical norms. This effort of Quételet’s to uncover the inherent order and statistical pre- dictability of society was, along with the contemporary work of Auguste Comte, an embodiment of “sociological thought”; the wellspring for the creation of the science of modern sociology in nineteenth-century Europe.29 The historian Theodore M. Porter describes the rise of statistical thinking and the influence of Quételet’s ideas on statistical regularity in nineteenth century Europe as below.
The individuals are so numerous, and subject to so complex an array of circumstances, that it is impossible to foresee with any reliability their future behavior. Yet whenever a large number of individuals is consid- ered at once, “the influence of contingencies seems to disappear before that of general laws.” The principle of statistical regularity, or of stability of the mean, was invoked incidentally in a variety of works on social and political subjects during the nineteenth century.30
27 Ibid., 18. 28 Adolphe Quételet, Sur l’homme et le développement de ses facultés; ou Essai de physique sociale, 12 29 Ian Hacking, “How Should We Do the History of Statistics?,” 181–182. 30 Porter, The Rise of Statistical Thinking, 65. The sentence, “the influence of contingencies seems to disappear before that of general laws,” was cited from Herman Merivale’s
Grounding himself in the statistical methodology of Quételet, Buckle criticized previous historical scholarship as little more than a chronicle of kings and wars, and hoped to construct a new historical science by writing a history of civilization focused on society as a whole rather than on the individual. Nor should we overlook the fact that Buckle emphasized even more aggres- sively than Quételet the universality of the statistical laws posited by the latter. In particular, Buckle’s discussion of the statistical regularity of suicide,31 which Fukuzawa also cites, ascribes to it an almost fatalistic determinism that pre- sented a fundamental challenge to traditional notions of free will. Writing of Buckle, Porter also observes, “it was principally he who made statistics a philo- sophical problem, in Germany as in England, and his history inspired a num- ber of scholars to go back and investigate the writings of Quételet.”32 Buckle’s discussion of suicide triggered a major debate over the issue of statistical determinism versus free will whose repercussions may be found even in the passage from Dostoyevsky cited at the beginning of this chapter. By attempting to reconfigure history through an even greater stress on Quételet’s concept of statistical regularity than its originator, Buckle arrived at his unique historical thesis, i.e. “that if we wish to ascertain the conditions that regulate the progress of modern civilization we must seek them in the history of the amount and diffusion of intellectual knowledge.”33 As Fukuzawa noted, the uniqueness and revolutionary nature of the “sci- ence of history” Buckle aimed at in his history of civilization lay in its enthusi- astic adoption of the accomplishments of contemporary statistical science. Fukuzawa’s own engagement with the science of statistics would proceed from his importation of statistical tables (seihyō) at the end of the Tokugawa period, through his encounter with Buckle’s History of Civilization in England, and thence to a more mature assimilation of statistics as an expression of the soci- ological thinking of nineteenth-century Europe. But how did Fukuzawa deploy his discovery of statistics within his own scholarly activity and intellectual practice? To answer this, we must return to take a closer look at his Bunmeiron no gairyaku (Outline of a Theory of Civilization).
article “Moral and Intellectual Statistics of France,” published in the Edinburgh Review, 1839. 31 Buckle, History of Civilization in England, vol. 1, 19–21. 32 Porter, The Rise of Statistical Thinking, 168. See also 60–65, 162–168, and Hacking, The Taming of Chance, 125–129. 33 Buckle, History of Civilization in England, 165.
Statistical Thinking and a Theory of Civilization In Chapter 4 of Bunmeiron, Fukuzawa immediately follows his methodological argument for the application of statistics to the history of civilization with a discussion—once again based on Buckle—of the correlation between mar- riage rates and grain prices.34 He notes that Confucianism views marriage as one of the most fundamental of human ethical relationships, and that “people everywhere consider it important and do not enter into it lightly”; meanwhile Shinto views marriage as the work of the god of Izumo Shrine. But as Fukuzawa says, a hundred factors enter into successful marriage arrangements—so many in fact, that “a happy conclusion is, truly, nothing short of pure luck.” Yet if one enlists the aid of “tables of statistics,” one finds that “the ultimate limiting and controlling factor on all these things, that which finally makes or breaks the settlement of the marriage negotiations, is the all-powerful rice market.” According to Fukuzawa, if we adopt the perspective of statistics, we find that the number of marriages is regulated by the price of rice. After making this basic point, Fukuzawa then enters a discussion of causation, introducing the concepts of “proximate and remote causes.” Proximate causes are more readily perceivable but sometimes misleading; remote causes are more difficult to see, but have greater certainty. Using the methods of statistics, we can “begin from proximate causes and work back to the remote causes,” tracing a chain of causal relationships. Taking the example of marriage, we find that the desires of the couple or the wishes of the parents are merely proximate causes.
Only when we go beyond them to look for the remote cause, and come up with the factor of the price of rice, do we unerringly obtain the real cause controlling the frequency of marriages in the country.35
Fukuzawa also follows Buckle in applying the “methods of statistics” not only to contemporary social analysis, but to historiography. He cites examples from the Spring and Autumn period and Warring States period of ancient Chinese history (eighth century–third century bce) and the Kenmu Restoration of medieval Japan (1333). Through a reexamination of these events, he criti- cized traditional interpretations of history grounded in Confucian morality or the belief in great men and heroes as historical agents, and demonstrated that
34 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 83–85; Dilworth and Hurst III, 65–67. 35 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 85; Dilworth and Hurst III, 67. Matsuzawa Hiroaki traces the use of the concepts of kin’in and en’in as employed here by Fukuzawa to Buckle’s discussion of “proximate and remote causes” in History of Civilization in England, Book 1, Chapter 14 and Book 2, Chapter 1. See Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 334.
According to some Western books, the reason for the despotism in Asia lies in the fact that, with its warm climates and fertile lands, Asia has become overpopulated, and because of the geographical and topographi- cal conditions, fears and superstitions tend to multiply. It is hard to say whether this theory truly applies to Japan or not.38
The Western book Fukuzawa has specifically in mind is Buckle. Volume 1, Chapter 2 of his history is entitled “Influence exercised by physical laws over the organization of society and over the character of individuals” and contains the argument Fukuzawa cites.39 As Fukuzawa’s brief summary suggests, Buckle uses the example of India to suggest that the reason that fear and super- stition are endemic in Asia and despotic government is the norm is due to such physical elements and natural conditions such as climate and topography. According to Buckle, this has prevented the historical development of the rea- soning powers and of civilization that has characterized the European world. Buckle’s version of the theory of oriental despotism carries with it a determin- ism that echoes his fatalistic interpretation of the statistical regularity demon- strated by Quételet in the data on suicides. Unquestioning acceptance of Buckle’s theory of Asiatic stagnation leads to the conclusion that Japan was fated never to escape from its situation and conditions. In order to resolve this dilemma, Matsuzawa tells us that Fukuzawa attempted to “reverse Buckle’s logic and explain Japanese history in terms of human beings and intellectual laws.”40 One manifestation of this attempt may be found in Fukuzawa’s unique perspective on the Meiji Restoration in Chapter 5 of Bunmeiron.41 Using the
36 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 88; Dilworth and Hurst III, 69. 37 Matsuzawa Hiroaki, Kindai Nihon no keisei to Seiyō keiken, 319–336. 38 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 212; Dilworth and Hurst III, 179. 39 Matsuzawa, Kindai Nihon no keisei to Seiyō keiken, 322–323. 40 Ibid., 330. 41 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 103–111; Dilworth and Hurst III, 83–91.
The government is in charge of maintaining order and handling current affairs; scholars focus upon a wide spectrum of ideas to discover future alternatives of action; both industry and commerce manage their
42 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 108; Dilworth and Hurst III, 88.
respective enterprises to contribute to the wealth of the nation. Each function thus makes its own contribution to civilization.43
But as most Japanese scholars are “credulous of what they see and hear, they know nothing about going to the remote causes of things.”44
Some scholars today are unaware of this principle and show an excessive concern for current affairs; forgetting their own essential function they rush into the world to solve its problems. The worst of them bring shame upon the scholarly community by their incompetence when, employed by the government, they adopt some short-sighted measures that end up in failure.45
This dig at scholars who trespass beyond the bounds of their allotted discipline to serve in government is linked to Fukuzawa’s famous statement on “The Duty of Scholars” in the fourth section of his Gakumon no susume (An Encouragement of Learning)46 This polemic of Fukuzawa’s is well-known for its harsh attack on his con- temporaries Nishi Amane, Tsuda Mamichi, Katō Hiroyuki, and other Western- studies intellectuals associated with the Meirokusha who were employed by the government. In this article, Fukuzawa argues that in order for Japan to maintain its independence, the people (jinmin 人民) and the government must both fulfill their proper duties and assist one another. To this end, a balance of power must be established and maintained between the people and the gov- ernment. But in contemporary Japan, “the government is as despotic as before, and Japanese subjects continue to be stupid, spiritless and powerless.” The people do not possess sufficient power to serve as a stimulus to the govern- ment; instead, they are dependent upon it and subservient to it. And because of this, the Japanese people have as yet been unable to develop into a nation possessed of a spirit of independence and freedom. Or, as Fukuzawa famously phrased it, “One might say that in Japan there is only a government, but not yet a nation.” Given this state of affairs, Japan could not expect to maintain its independence. For Fukuzawa, the most urgent task was therefore to reform the “base and insincere spirit” of the common people and in its place to cultivate a
43 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 99; Dilworth and Hurst III, 78. 44 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 86; Dilworth and Hurst III, 67–68. 45 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 97–100; Dilworth and Hurst III, 78–79. 46 Fukuzawa Yukichi, Gakumon no susume, 40–52; translated into English by David A. Dilworth and Hirano Umeyo, Fukuzawa Yukichi’s “An Encouragement of Learning,” 27–35.
The minds of the people bend more and more to government ways. They admire and trust, or fear and flatter the government officials. No one has the sincerity of mind to be independent. Their disgraceful conduct is hardly endurable.48
What was to be done to counter this? According to Fukuzawa, scholars should first of all distance themselves from the government and establish themselves in the private sector, dedicating themselves to educating the people. The role of the scholar in contemporary Japan should not be to become a member of the government bureaucracy, but to stand on the side of the people and help give birth to a “true Japanese nation” imbued with the spirit of independence. Fukuzawa’s academy, Keiō Gijuku, was created to fulfill this ideal and inten- tion. And for Fukuzawa, statistics was a critically important science, indispens- able for adopting a broader perspective, distinct from that of the government, from which to contribute to the discourse on civilization. As we have seen, under the influence of Buckle’s History of Civilization in England, Fukuzawa came into contact with the accomplishments of the European science of statistics and made the transition from statistical tables to statistics proper (sutachisuchiku). In other words, he deepened his awareness of the value of statistics from seeing it as a simple tool for the quantification of political and economic data to entering a dimension in which it presented him with entirely new methodologies for understanding society and history. Mediated by this perception of statistics, he was able to make the intrinsic
47 Fukuzawa, Gakumon no susume, 50; Dilworth and Hirano, 33. The word rendered “play- things” in Dilworth’s and Hirano’s translation has been replaced here with “puppet.” 48 Fukuzawa, Gakumon no susume, 47; Dilworth and Hirano, 32.
The goal of the progress of civilization is not only the achievement of the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people taken as an average; it also lies in the gradual qualitative improvement of that happiness. If we were to compare the history of the past hundred or a thousand years and those yet to come in numerical terms and ask whether the quantity of that happiness has increased or diminished, and whether the quality of that happiness will wax or wane—in other words, insofar as we are able to see from statistical enumeration—I have no qualms whatsoever in asserting that I am someone who continues to embrace hope for the future. Yet without this statistical thinking, people would be unable to speak to others of civilization at all.49
From this passage we can see that to the end of his life Fukuzawa continued to see statistics as the methodology of the history of civilization, and as an embodiment of the spirit of civilization itself. But now let us turn to Tsuda and Nishi’s encounters with this science.
3 The Intellectual World of Tsuda Mamichi’s Hyōki teikō: Dutch Statistical Administration and the Leiden University Lecture Notes
When Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi departed for their studies in the Netherlands, what prior understanding of statistics did they bring with them? Let us look once again at the letter, written in Dutch, that Nishi sent to Professor John Joseph Hoffmann, who arranged their study in Leiden, detailing the pur- pose of their study abroad.
49 Fukuzawa Yukichi, Fuku-o hyakuwa, in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 6, 348.
Then there are more useful disciplines which are totally unknown in Japan, such as statistics, jurisprudence, economics, politics, diplomacy, etc. These disciplines are essential to relations with the countries of Europe and for the improvement of many domestic affairs of state and institutions.50
Here, the science of statistics is ranked along with law, economics, and politics as an efficacious branch of scholarship which, despite being as yet completely unknown territory, should be explored in the interests of improving both Japan’s international relations and domestic governance. In fact, its place at the head of the list is indicative of the fact that the study of statistics was one of the central goals of Nishi and Tsuda’s voyage to the Netherlands. In his notes on Vissering’s overview of the five-course curriculum he prepared for Nishi and Tsuda, Nishi recorded Vissering’s description of the significance of statis- tics as follows: “A technique for detailed and exhaustive observation of the condition of the nation.”51 In this section we will examine the nature of Vissering’s lectures on statis- tics, and consider what Tsuda and Nishi learned from them and how this shaped their perceptions of society, civilization, and government. A valuable source for this analysis is “Grondbeginselen der statistiek” (Foundations of Statistics), the lecture notes Tsuda made in Dutch on Vissering’s lectures.52 Tsuda’s Hyōki teikō, published in 1874 (Meiji 7), is thought to be a translation and adaptation of these original notes, which were divided into three chapters and thirteen sections. Let us begin with an investigation of the original Dutch notes and Tsuda’s translation as a way of gaining an overview of their content.
50 Nishi Amane, letter of 12 June 1863 to John Joseph Hoffmann, in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 177. 51 Nishi Amane, “Seihō, bankoku kōhō, kokuhō, seisangaku, seihyō kuketsu,” in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 677. From statements such as these by Nishi and Tsuda, previous research on the history of statistics in Japan (cf. Samejima, Yabuuchi) has frequently pointed to the influence of the German statecraft school on Vissering’s statistics. Yet as we shall see, Vissering himself did not see his own statistical work as confined within this framework, and in fact tended to see the German school as the “old statistics” being superseded by the “new statistics” of Quételet and his followers. 52 Tsuda’s handwritten manuscript, “Grondbeginselen der statistiek,” is preserved in the Rare Book and Manuscript Collection, Keiō University, where the author worked with it directly. A printed version has been published in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei. For the convenience of the reader, page number citations are to the latter.
The main theme of the first section of the first chapter is the definition of statistics. The Dutch lecture notes state that “Knowledge of the actual condi- tions of the social life (het maatschappelijk leven) of a nation, of several nations, or finally of the whole known world is called statistics.” Tsuda translated “sta- tistics” as hyōki 表紀 in Japanese, and “social life” as aiseiyō suru 相生養する. As we saw earlier, Nishi also used the phrase aiseiyō suru to translate expressions such as “to live together with other people” and “mutual reciprocity.” A more detailed analysis of the origins of this phrase will be provided in Chapter 3, but here I will simply note that it was significant for both Nishi and Tsuda. Moreover, Tsuda adds an explanatory note of his own regarding “social life,” saying, “We might define this situation as association (jinkan kaisha 人間会社) or fellowship (jinkan chūgen 人間仲間).”53 This problem of how to construe the concept of het maatschaapelijk leven, or in English, “society,” as something dis- tinct in nature from the state or government is one of the most essential issues in the history of modern Japanese political thought. What is important to note here is that while Tsuda grapples with the terminology for rendering this con- cept into Japanese, he is also emphatically stating that statistics is a science concerned with knowledge of this “society.” Vissering not only makes the claim that statistics is a science of social life; he also teaches that it is an independent discipline, not to be subsumed under sciences such as astronomy or biology.54 Yet what is problematic here is hyōki, the term Tsuda uses to translate statistiek. It generally means “to express in writing,” and its use is not restricted to matters of social life.55 Tsuda explains his use of it by saying, “This is based on Vissering’s definition of statistiek. The word hyōki may be used broadly to refer to natural phenomena as well.” From this we can see the difficulties that Tsuda experienced in his efforts to translate the word statistiek. In his second section, Vissering discusses the purpose of statistics. In his view, statistics is a practical and useful science that involves the empirical pursuit of truth, as well as the application of the knowledge gained thereby to the improvement of public affairs. Particularly for those involved in gov- erning the country, statistics is vitally important for gaining insight into the actual conditions of the nation. As Vissering put it, “The purpose of statistics is
53 Simon Vissering, “Grondbeginselen der Statistiek,” 137; translation by Tsuda Mamichi, Hyōki teikō, in Tsuda Mamichi zenshū, vol. 1, 224. 54 Vissering, “Grondbeginselen der Statistiek,” 137; Hyōki teikō, 224. 55 Hyōki teikō, 224. It has been pointed out that the term hyōki 表紀(記) originally appears in ancient Chinese sources such as Zhang Heng’s Liyi 歴議 (Yabuuchi, Nihon tōkei hat tatsu shi kenkyū, 23).
56 Vissering, “Grondbeginselen der statistiek,” 139; Hyōki teikō, 225. 57 Vissering, “Grondbeginselen der statistiek,” 140–144; Hyōki teikō, 225. 58 Vissering, “Grondbeginselen der statistiek,” 147–167; Hyōki teikō, 228.
It is necessary that in general the collection of facts is carried out under the supervision of the public authority of the state through duly appointed officials, committees, and a bureau of statistics. The bureau and commit- tees must work under the direction of a central office or a director, and their operations must be performed according to specific regulations and instructions.59
It is interesting to note that the term Tsuda uses to represent “bureau of statis- tics (het bureau van statistiek)” is seihyōryō 政表寮, as we may recall that it was in fact the Statistics Department (Seihyōka) of the Meiji government that would publish Tsuda’s Hyōki teikō in 1874. Later we will explore the political context in which this publication occurred. The fourth section of the second chapter discusses, as the ultimate goal of statistics, the application to the social life of the knowledge gained from the collection and analysis of statistical data. According to Vissering, this is the point at which statistics and political economy come into conjunction. “It is here that the task of the statistician ends, and the task of political economist and statesman begins.”60 As an example of this conjunction between statistics and political economy, the debate over free trade is cited.
In a single country one might perhaps prove with statistics that industry has developed through the functioning of a protectionist system, and therefore come to the erroneous conclusion that the system should be maintained. However, a skillful statesman must consider, through com- parison with other countries, whether industry might not have improved even more under a system of free trade.61
In other words, Tsuda suggests that statistical data leads to the argument in favor of free trade in the field of political economy.
59 Vissering, “Grondbeginselen der statistiek,” 151–153; Hyōki teikō, 230. 60 Vissering, “Grondbeginselen der statistiek,” 156; Hyōki teikō, 232. 61 Vissering, “Grondbeginselen der statistiek,” 156–157; Hyōki teikō, 232.
In the third and final series of lectures on statistics, Vissering discusses land, population, trade, and government finances as the principal subjects of statis- tical surveys for a given nation, and gives a detailed account of the methods used to make such surveys and to process the statistical data collected. The preceding paragraphs have been an overview and comparison of the main themes of Tsuda’s notes in Dutch on Vissering’s lectures and his Japanese translation of these notes in Hyōki teikō. If used as a basis for investigating the characteristics of Vissering’s approach to statistics, several questions arise. First of all, there is the question of what exactly Vissering meant by the phrase “social life” when he defined statistics as a science that is concerned with it. Moreover, how exactly did he see the relationship between statistics and polit- ical economy? While Tsuda perceived statistics to be a science that could be used to establish governmental policies and reform existing political institu- tions on the basis of the empirical survey of facts and principles (jitsuri 実理), did Vissering see it that way? He clearly understood statistics as a useful sci- ence for government, but in what sense? What was the nature and role of the central bureau of statistics that he advocated? By clarifying both the intellec- tual background and the political context of Vissering’s lectures on statistics, we can also arrive at a better understanding of the implications that Tsuda and Nishi’s efforts had for Japanese intellectual history. So let us turn our attention once more to the Netherlands in the latter half of the nineteenth century, and through a more direct acquaintance with Vissering’s writings, elucidate the characteristics of his approach to statistics and the nature of his scholarship as a whole.
Liberal Reform and the Idea of a Central Bureau of Statistics Vissering, who as a professor at Leiden University was responsible for lectures in political economy, diplomatic history, and statistics, left us a large body of academic writing on statistics.62 His “De statistiek in Nederland” (Statistics in the Netherlands) was written in 1849, while “De vereeniging voor de statistiek in Nederland en het statistisch instituut” (The Netherlands Association for
62 Vissering left the following major statistical writings: “De statistiek in Nederland” (1849), in Herinneringen, deel 2; Limites de la statistique; Handleiding tot het statistisch onderzoek; “De Statistiek aan de hoogeschool” (1877) in Verzamelde geschriften van Mr S. Vissering, deel 2; “De vereeniging voor de statistiek in Nederland en het statistisch instituut” (1886), in Verzamelde geschriften van Mr S. Vissering, deel 2. Limites de la Statistique is based on a paper that Vissering delivered at an international statistical conference in The Hague in 1869. It was later translated into Japanese by Ono Ya’ichi, who attended the conference, and published as “Tōkeigaku no genkai” in the journal Tōkei shūshi (1886).
Statistics and the Statistical Institute) was written in 1886—indicating that Vissering maintained a deep and lifelong engagement with the science of sta- tistics from before he was appointed professor at Leiden to his final years after retirement from the faculty. Let us begin our investigation of his work with a look at his first contribution to the subject, “De statistiek in Nederland,” and a consideration of its historical background. Vissering begins this essay with the proposition that statistics, because it is based in mathematics, is one of the most positive sciences, a useful auxil- iary to political economy. He admits, however, that “statistics in the Netherlands is still in its infancy” and has not yet attained the status “of an independent discipline.”63 Yet in recent years, in the Netherlands as elsewhere, general interest in statistics had been rising. Why? “Reforms in the system of govern- ment in our country” have brought an end to the era in which matters of national administration could be kept secret and have forced the government to become more and more transparent. The result, in Vissering’s opinion, is that “the necessity of statistical knowledge is daily becoming stronger.”64 So what remained to be done to encourage the development of statistics in the Netherlands? Vissering’s answer was to propose the creation of a central bureau of statistics. The Netherlands still lacked an agency for the accurate collection and systematic processing of statistical data. Securing and system- atically collating accurate information from independent surveys by individ- uals or groups was impossible. If such work were to be distributed among the various government ministries, responsibility would also be dispersed, with no central agency consolidating the data. Vissering argued that it was a task of some urgency to establish, under the authority of and with the cooperation of the government, a central bureau of statistics that would operate as an institution independent of any other ministry. If this central bureau of statis- tics reported information freely to all concerned parties, and the dissemina- tion of statistical knowledge was encouraged, the government would be able to propose legislation based on reliable data and the people would no longer be led astray by error and prejudice. Statistics is “the foundation of openness,” and only with the establishment of an independent central bureau of statis- tics could government secrecy be eliminated and “light shed upon our politi- cal life.”65 Vissering concludes his essay with the following quote from Thorbecke:
63 Vissering, “De statistiek in Nederland,” in Herinneringen, deel 2, 111–113, 127. 64 Ibid., 128. 65 Ibid., 128–135.
In political society, as in nature, light is an indispensable element of life. If there is no light at all, then we can expect only partial or unhealthy developments.66
Such is the gist of “De statistiek in Nederland.” Here we can already see the perception of statistics as a mathematically based empirical science, the asser- tion of its intimate relationship to political economy, and even the concept of the central bureau of statistics, that Vissering would share with Tsuda and Nishi in his lectures. Yet before embarking upon further exploration of the characteristics of Vissering’s scholarship, we should note the relationship between his under- standing of his times and his engagement with statistics. According to Vissering, “reforms in the system of government” have brought an end to the era in which matters of national administration can be kept undisclosed to the public. The government must make statistical information “freely available to the public,” while the people must constantly and actively seek such knowledge of public affairs. But what were these reforms to which Vissering alludes? It is clear that he is referring to the liberal reforms following the promulgation of the revised Constitution of the Netherlands on November 3, 1848. Thorbecke’s cabinet was formed in 1849, and unquestionably the years 1848 and 1849 were a major watershed in the formation of the national polity of the modern Netherlands. In this essay, Vissering was attempting to situate his own practice of the science of statistics within the larger context of the liberal reforms being spear- headed by his teacher Thorbecke. His use of the quotation from Thorbecke at the end of his essay is indicative of this. Moreover, the essay ran in De Gids (The Guide), a liberal journal that numbered Vissering among its editors. For Vissering, statistics was a science that he hoped would serve as the foundation for the new liberal order attendant upon the 1848 constitution, with its keynote of openness to the public. To assist this development of statistics as a foundation for the openness or transparency in government that Vissering saw as characteristic of his times, he proposed the establishment of a central bureau of statistics that would function as an institute for pure scholarship, independent of political partisan- ship. From the time of “De statistiek in Nederland” onwards Vissering worked tirelessly to achieve this objective through his involvement in the Netherlands Association for Statistics and other activities. One result of this was the forma- tion in 1858 of the National Council for Statistics, of which Vissering would serve as member and deputy chairman. The council, however, lasted a scant
66 Ibid., 134.
Examining Transcripts of Statistics Lectures at Leiden University There are several texts which will aid us in understanding Vissering’s thinking on statistics: “De statistiek des vaderlands” (Statistics in Our Fatherland), a transcript of lectures given by Vissering at Leiden University in 1859–60; “Theorie der statistiek” (Theory of Statistics), a similar transcript from 1877–78; and a book published in 1875, Handleiding tot het statistisch onderzoek (Handbook for Statistical Research). The first two sources are unpublished manuscripts in the collection of the Leiden University Library.69 Vissering lec- tured on statistics every academic year from 1850 until his retirement in 1879. The two transcripts are in a different hand, but both are clearly notes taken
67 Vissering, “Inhoud,” in Herinneringen, deel 2, 14. 68 Vissering, “De vereeniging voor de statistiek in Nederland en het statistisch instituut,” 131–132. 69 Vissering, “De statistiek des vaderlands,” dictaat, 1859–60, Document bpl1517; “Theorie der statistiek,” dictaat, 1877–78, Document greven 1326.
70 Vissering, “De statistiek des vaderlands,” 2–5; “Theorie der statistiek,” 1–7; Handleiding tot het statistisch onderzoek, 3–5.
71 Vissering, “De statistiek des vaderlands,” 5–6; “Theorie der statistiek,” 10–13. 72 Vissering, “Theorie der statistiek,” 57–59; Handleiding tot het statistisch onderzoek, 10–11. 73 Vissering, “De statistiek aan de hoogeschool,” 108–115.
74 Ibid., 114. 75 Vissering, “Theorie der statistiek,” 12. 76 Vissering, “De statistiek des vaderlands,” 7. 77 Vissering, “Theorie der statistiek,” 17–18. 78 Porter, The Rise of Statistical Thinking, 65.
79 Willem Otterspeer, De wiekslag van hun geest, 227–232; Ernst Heinrich Kossman, The Low Countries, 259–263. 80 Vissering, “Theorie der statistiek,” 23–26. 81 Ibid., 84. Vissering also points out that the National Council for Statistics established in the Netherlands in 1858 was modeled on the Central Statistical Council in Belgium that had been established by Quételet (Vissering, Herinneringen, vol. 2, 11).
Europe in which the people are active participants in the public sphere. The existence of a central bureau of statistics would make information broadly available to the people and function as the foundation for a government attuned to the self-regulating operation of an open society. Thus Vissering regarded it as an essential institution for any civilized country.
Between Bunmeiron no Gairyaku and Hyōki Teikō In his lectures to Nishi and Tsuda, Vissering tried earnestly and faithfully to present the essence and main themes of his own understanding of statistics in quite simple language. Overall, what he taught them corresponds closely to the material covered in the transcripts of Vissering’s other lectures at Leiden University. One must concede that Vissering certainly did not develop any unique or original theory of statistics. Rather, his consciousness of the Netherlands as being somewhat behind the times in this field led him to ponder the nature and significance of statistics in the civilized nations as a science supporting a liberal social and political order. His scholarship was concerned with clarifying the facts and principles (jitsuri 実理 in Tsuda’s translation) of actual social con- ditions and extracting the natural laws (shizen no tenritsu 自然の天律) of social life (ai seiyō suru no jinkan chūgen 相生養するの人間仲間) by using empirical methods partly influenced by the theories of Quételet. The results of this would then ultimately be employed to contribute to better government. Hyōki teikō embodies the struggle Tsuda had in translating the term het maatschap- pelijk leven, but also demonstrates the accuracy of his understanding of the nature of Vissering’s statistical thought. Nishi also discussed statistics in Hyakugaku renkan, an encyclopedia he wrote not long after his return to Japan from the Netherlands. In this work, he defines “statistics” as “an aspect of the science of politics (seijigaku 政事学) concerned with the collection and ranking of data in a manner adequate to describe the condition of a particular country as it exists at present.” Nishi indi- cates the close connection of statistics with political economy, and asserts that:
Those entrusted with governing a country cannot perform their duties without first having a detailed knowledge of the statistics of that country. To govern without such knowledge is no better than trying to find some- thing by groping about in the dark.82
82 Nishi Amane, Hyakugaku renkan, in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 4, 251–255.
This is also implied in the definition of statistics recorded in Nishi’s notes on Vissering’s lectures and cited at the beginning of this section, which called it “a technique for detailed and exhaustive observation of the condition of the nation.” So what observations is it possible to elicit from a comparison of Fukuzawa Yukichi’s approach to statistics, as discussed in the second section of this chap- ter, with Tsuda and Nishi’s engagement with Vissering’s statistical work? First, Fukuzawa, Nishi, and Tsuda shared a common appreciation of the knowledge and results achieved by the contemporary European science of statistics, led by scholars such as Quételet. Fukuzawa, like Nishi and Tsuda, had a high opin- ion of statistics as a science that could derive natural laws based on the statisti- cal regularities from the empirical observation of “facts,” and as a result change traditional mentalities befuddled by antiquated customs and prejudices. In this sense, Tsuda’s assertion in Hyōki teikō that “practitioners of statistics can obtain the knowledge of natural laws (de natuurwetten) which govern human life and action from faithful observation of the facts in the sphere of social life,” and Fukuzawa’s in Bunmeiron no gairyaku that “if we look at the mentality of the people of a particular country as comprising a totality, there are fixed laws in its operations” are both essentially based on their perception of the accom- plishments of statistics as “a new science of civilization.” In this regard, these two contemporaneous works, which might appear at first glance to be quite unrelated in content, actually share a common denominator: the statistical mentality. In the “statistical fever” of the early Meiji period, there was an immense interest in sociological patterns of thought that attempted to grasp the realities of an autonomous, self-regulating society. Yet we cannot overlook the differences between the statistical thinking of Fukuzawa and that of Nishi and Tsuda. What came to the foreground for these early Meiji intellectuals was a common concern with how Japan was to be brought into the ranks of the civilized nations, as well as with the question of who would wield the knowledge provided by statistics and what goals they would seek to achieve. As they set about addressing these related issues, however, we begin to see the emergence of two opposing poles in the debate over the proper relationship between statistics and Japan’s modernization. Tsuda and Nishi learned from Vissering that statistics were not only useful in the explanation of a broad range of social phenomena, but also for planning, implementing, and evaluating the effects of government policy—a necessary and indispensable science for the conduct of government in accor- dance with the natural laws inherent in social life. They therefore thought it desirable to establish a central bureau of statistics as an institution in which
83 Fukuzawa, Gakumon no susume, 46–48; Dilworth and Hirano, 23–25. 84 Nishi Amane, “Hi gakusha shokubun ron”; Tsuda Mamichi, “Gakusha shokubun ron no hyō” in Meiroku zasshi vo. 1; translated into English by William R. Braisted, assisted by Adachi Yasushi and Kikuchi Yūji, 24–28. Both essays are translated here as “Criticism of the Essay on the Role [Duty] of Scholars.”
4 Sugi Kōji’s Proposal for a Central Statistical Bureau and the Political Crisis of 1881
Any consideration of the reception of Vissering’s statistical teachings by early Meiji intellectuals must recall, in addition to Nishi and Tsuda, another impor- tant figure who was also active in the Meirokusha and continues to be regarded as one of the pioneers of the science of statistics in modern Japan: Sugi Kōji. Sugi was, in fact, the founder of the Seihyōka, the government’s first depart- ment of statistics. The motivation for Sugi’s interest in statistics is discussed in some detail in his autobiography, where he recounts that his first encounter with statistics was at the end of the Tokugawa period, when he was working as an instructor in the Kaiseijo (successor to the Bansho Shirabesho). Reading an issue of the Dutch weekly newspaper Rotterdam Courant, he came across some educa- tional statistics from Bavaria and thought, “We desperately need something like this in our country.” Then something happened that was decisive in lead- ing Sugi toward serious research in the field. “About that time, Tsuda Mamichi and Nishi Amane had just returned from the Netherlands. Among the many things we talked about, the subject of statistics came up, and they showed me a book on it. From that point onward, I became more and more deeply
85 Sugi Kōji, “Sugi sensei jitsureki dan,” in Sugi sensei kōenshū zen, 18–19, 24. Previous studies of Sugi Kōji include Kaji Shigeo, Sugi Kōji den; Hosoya Shinji, “Kaidai”; Tsukatani Akihiro, “Sugi Kōji no gakumon to shisō”; Takano Iwasaburō, “Sugi Kōji hakushi to honpō no tōkeigaku.” 86 On the formation of the family registration system in early Meiji Japan, see Niimi Kichiji, Jinshin koseki seiritsu ni kansuru kenkyū; Fukushima Masao, “Meiji 4-nen kosekihō no shi- teki zentei to sono kōzō”; Tanaka Akira, Chōshū han to Meiji ishin.
87 Sugi Kōji, “Meiji 3-nen 7-gatsu kenpaku,” in Sōrifu Tōkeikyoku, ed., Sōrifu Tōkeikyoku hyaku- nenshi shiryō shūsei 1, no. 1, 406–409; “Sugi sensei jitsureki dan,” in Sugi sensei kōenshū zen, 21. 88 The Dajōkan system was the mode of organization of the central government during the early Meiji period. In 1871, the Dajōkan (Grand Council of State) consisted of three cham- bers, the Sei’in (Central Chamber), Sa’in (Chamber of the Left), and U’in (Chamber of the Right), under which were arranged the various ministries, such as the Foreign Ministry and Ministry of Finance. In 1885 a modern cabinet system was introduced, and the Dajōkan system was eliminated. 89 Ōkuma Shigenobu, “Meiji 31-nen 6-gatsu 25-nichi, dai 4-kai tōkei konshinkai ni okeru enzetsu,” in Sōrifu Tōkeikyoku, ed., Sōrifu Tōkeikyoku hyakunenshi shiryō shūsei, 604–605. 90 Itō Hirobumi was born in 1841. In 1863 he was sent to England as an overseas student by the domain of Chōshū. After the Meiji Restoration he was active as an official in the new government. In 1882 he traveled to Europe to study constitutional systems, among them the Prussian constitution and the theories supporting it. After his return to Japan he was a major figure in the establishment of the cabinet system and in 1885 became Japan’s first prime minister. He played a leading role in the drafting and promulgation of the Constitution of the Empire of Japan (1889). He was assassinated in 1909 on a visit to Harbin in Manchuria.
9. Creation of a Bureau of Statistics. Its purpose would be to collect and aggregate nationwide financial figures, calculating revenues and expen- ditures for Year A and determining income and outflow for Year B, report- ing regularly to the government and also publishing this information for the general public. It would be desirable to concentrate such activities in this special bureau, which would compile statistics on production of goods, household population, coinage and paper currency, principal and supplemental taxes, government bonds, official salaries, and so forth.91
It is clear from both Ōkuma’s memoir and Itō’s proposal that the Ministry of Finance realized, in part by reference to the American financial and fiscal sys- tem, that statistics could be employed as a powerful tool for the efficient con- duct of fiscal administration and accounting, especially with regard to the collection of taxes. The Tōkeiryō was established within the Ministry of Finance for precisely this purpose. The document creating it stated: “The Tōkeiryō is charged with publishing and making available in conveniently readable form all figures related to national revenue and expenditures; the volume of govern- ment bonds, securities, banknotes, and stamps issued; as well as figures on household population, land area, production of goods, and volume of foreign imports and exports.”92 The power of the Ministry of Finance’s Tōkeiryō, cre- ated with the intention that it would be responsible for generating statistical information for the entire nation, dwarfed that of its late-coming rival, the Dajōkan’s Seihyōka. In October 1872 (Meiji 5) the Seihyōka was reduced in size, renamed the Seihyō-gakari 政表掛, and attached to the Chishika (Office of Topography). A further downsizing and reassignment under the Naishi Zaimuka (Office of Finance) came with the bureaucratic reorganization of the government in May 1873 (Meiji 6). Deeply chagrined by this turn of events, Sugi Kōji submitted a memorial that same month, addressed to the grand minister of state and the councilors of the Dajōkan.93 In this document, he complained about the repeated restruc- turing and reassignment of his office and the perplexity it had caused him per- sonally. If you look at the European countries, he wrote, all of them produced statistics (seihyō 政表) on land, population, military power, national morale, diplomacy, institutional history, etc., that government leaders employed in administering their policies. The civilized nations all have central statistical
91 Shunbo-kō Tsuishōkai, ed., Itō Hirobumi den, vol. 1, 548–558. 92 “Tōkeiryō shokusei shōtei, 19 August 1871,” in Sōrifu Tōkeikyoku hyakunenshi shiryō shūsei 1, no. 1, 26. 93 Sugi Kōji, “Kenpakusho, May 1872,” in ibid., 412–413.
At present, all government business is conducted by the relevant minis- tries according to their various jurisdictions; each has its authority but cannot extend its activities to other jurisdictions. Because of this, the capacity to oversee nationwide data should be consolidated exclusively under the authority and responsibility of the Sei’in (Central Chamber of the Dajōkan). This was the reason for the creation of this office.95
Sugi’s activities—critical of the existing state of affairs and the Ministry of Finance’s Tōkeiryō, and advocating strongly for the elevation of the Seihyōka into a central bureau of statistics that would function as a politically neutral government institution—might be described as an effort to put Vissering’s ideas into practice.
94 Vissering, “Grondbeginselen der Statistiek”; translation by Sugi Kōji as “Keiseigaku ron,” in Waseda Daigaku, ed., Ōkuma monjo, A118, Yūshōdō microfilm, 19. 95 “Seihyōka kitei o katei su (Meiji 7-nen 7-gatsu 12-nichi),” in Sōrifu Tōkeikyoku hyakunenshi shiryō shūsei, Book 1, vol. 1, 5.
Sugi’s adoption of the concept of a central statistical bureau was also deeply linked to his understanding of Vissering’s approach to statistics. Sugi under- stood statistics as a means for deriving natural laws from the empirical obser- vation of social life that enabled government based on a clear apprehension of actual conditions, and he would hold to this vision throughout his life. In his later years he defined statistics as “a science of inquiry into the realities of soci- ety (jinkan shakai 人間社会),” stating that “statistical scholarship is an empiri- cal science, using this methodology to explicate the phenomena under investigation, i.e. the facts, and to discover their causes in order to arrive at the goal of understanding natural laws.”96 “On the basis of [statistics],” he claimed, “we can come to understand the natural principles of human life and the prin- ciples of political economy, shed light on lawmaking, government administra- tion, and other aspects of human society, and destroy the erroneous views of scholars.”97 With this underlying vision of the purpose of scholarship, and an under- standing of statistical theory informed by the notes on Vissering’s lectures, Sugi’s political advocacy for the elevation and expansion of the Seihyōka placed him in a position diametrically opposed to that of the activities of the Ministry of Finance’s Tōkeiryō, which regarded statistics as little more than a convenient tool for fiscal administration. So it was that in 1874 (Meiji 7), the Seihyōka officially published Hyōki teikō, Tsuda Mamichi’s complete translation of the notes he had taken on Vissering’s statistics lectures. Given the other concurrent developments surrounding Sugi and the Seihyōka at the time, it seems likely that Tsuda’s translation and publi- cation of Hyōki teikō under the auspices of the department was part of an intentional alliance with Sugi’s political strategies. Vissering’s own quest had been to establish a central statistical bureau in the Netherlands that would function as an independent organ of government, giving lawmaking and administration a foundation in natural laws and princi- ples derived from the empirical study of social life. In the manner described above, Vissering’s ideas and his quest gained new life in Japan in the form of Sugi’s activities campaign for the Seihyōka.
The Sugi Faction versus the Keiō faction: A Snapshot of Meiji Statistical Administration However, just as Vissering’s quest had failed in the Netherlands, Sugi’s cam- paign in Japan to elevate the status of the Seihyōka did not ultimately bear
96 Sugi Kōji, “Statistiek no hanashi,” in Sugi sensei kōenshū zen, 139, 142. 97 Sugi Kōji, “Kyōiku dan,” in ibid., 101.
98 On sources for the battle between the Seihyōka and Tōkeiryō, see Hosoya Shinji, “Kaidai”; Yabuuchi Takeshi, Nihon tōkei hattatsu shi. 99 “Okuma Shigenobu kengi: Tōkei’in setchi no ken (Meiji 14-nen 4-gatsu),” in Sōrifu Tōkeikyoku hyakunenshi shiryō shūsei, Book 1, vol. 1, 555. 100 Ibid., 607. 101 For historical treatments of the 1881 political crisis, see Mikuriya Takashi, “Kokkai ron to zaisei ron: 14-nen seihen saikō” and “14-nen seihen to kihon rosen no kakutei”; Ōkubo Toshiaki, “Meiji 14-nen seihen: Satchō hanbatsu seifu no kakuritsu”; Inada Masatsugu, Meiji kenpō seiritsu shi; Kang Pŏm-sŏk, Meiji 14-nen no seihen.
Ōkuma’s and my private calculations were concerned with our plan to see a constitutional system implemented in two or three years time… We were more interested in creating a sort of reserve army of new recruits than we were in simply getting our gang [Ozaki, Inukai, and the others] into official jobs.102
Ozaki was in turn recruited to the Tōkei’in by Yano, with the following explanation:
If it was just statistical work, the Section [of the Ministry of Finance, not the Bureau created outside the existing ministries] would be more than adequate. But the times are changing. Argument for the establishment of a Diet has arisen within the cabinet. Councilor Ōkuma and others want
102 Yano Fumio, “Okuma-kō sekijitsutan (ho),” 442.
to see a Diet convened in Meiji 16 and have begun preparations for it. Once a Diet is convened, the government will need many officials who can explain government policy, so what we are trying to do is immedi- ately recruit talented individuals from the private sector and give them a couple of years training in the work of government.103
Moreover, once they actually showed up for work, Ozaki and his colleagues received these instructions:
In future, you will all be officials working for the parliamentary govern- ment. Approach your research with that in mind. You needn’t exert your- self doing statistics per se. Focus your energy on studying the work of national government as a whole.104
Taken together, these statements clearly indicate that the establishment of the Tōkei’in was part of a scheme by Ōkuma to prepare for the convening of a Diet in 1883 by assembling a set of talented individuals—mainly Keiō graduates— under his direction and putting them to work in a kind of policy think-tank researching the overall operations of the national government. The Seihyōka of Sugi Kōji was absorbed into Ōkuma’s new Tōkei’in. According to the recollection of Yano, every day they “all got together and spouted a lot of half-baked ideas.”105 It is not difficult to imagine the disap- pointment and hard feelings of Sugi Kōji and his colleagues as they met with this sudden influx of the Keio faction. As far as the actual work was concerned, Sugi and his colleagues were primarily involved in statistical surveys such as the individual population census of residents of the province of Kai, while Yano and his associates were almost exclusively concerned with gathering operating figures from the various government ministries and compiling them into an annual report, the Tōkei nenkan. In terms of personnel, the top posts in the Tōkei’in were monopolized by the Keiō faction. As Sugi later recalled, “Meanwhile, Councilor Ōkuma became the head of the organization, the name was changed from Seihyōka to Tōkei’in, and a bunch of newspaper reporters were suddenly appointed as departmental officials… At some point they quit doing statistical research altogether and started putting out the Tōkei nen- kan.”106 Sugi’s protégé, Kure Ayatoshi, was similarly disgruntled:
103 Ozaki Yukio, “Gakudō jiden,” 74. 104 Ibid., 75. 105 Yano Fumio, “Okuma-kō sekijitsutan (ho),” 442. 106 Sugi Kōji, “Sugi sensei jitsureki dan,” in Sugi sensei kōenshū zen, 52.
With Ōkuma as head of the Bureau, Yano, Ushiba, Ozaki, and Inukai all newly entered the organization in the executive positions. It would have been one thing if some of us who had been involved with statistics from the beginning had been promoted to take a seat at the end of the execu- tive table, since that would have kept things on the path of statistical research and would have fulfilled something of our purpose. But instead the executive staff was filled with hopped-up newspaper reporters who didn’t know the first thing about statistics, and those of us who saw statis- tics as our lifework were profoundly disillusioned.107
The Dajōkan Tōkei’in (Bureau of Statistics) under Ōkuma’s leadership took a completely different direction than the one that Sugi Kōji had envisioned for a central statistical bureau. All that Sugi and his colleagues could do was feel anger and frustration at the way the organization had been commandeered by Ōkuma and the Keiō faction and utilized as a tool for political maneuvering and policy debates. One question of interest is what Fukuzawa Yukichi’s position was with regard to the political process surrounding the establishment of the Tōkei’in. In fact, as early as 1879 (Meiji 12), Fukuzawa had received a communication from Ōkuma Shigenobu regarding the possible creation of a new statistics bureau within the government and asking for personnel recommendations. Fukuzawa replied with a letter expressing support for Ōkuma’s plans concern- ing statistics. In the letter, Fukuzawa recommended thirteen members of Keiō Gijuku and three people engaged in statistics.108 It is impossible to state with certainty that this 1879 promise by Fukuzawa of unconditional support for the establishment of a statistics bureau was directly connected to the estab- lishment of the Dajōkan Tōkei’in in 1881. For one thing, the names of the Keiō Gijuku members listed in Fukuzawa’s letter do not correspond to those of the Keiō alumni who in fact participated in the establishment of the Tōkei’in. Moreover, two of the three people not associated with Keiō Gijuku who were recommended in Fukuzawa’s 1879 letter were Sugi Kōji and Kure Ayatoshi. It is not clear in exactly what terms Ōkuma broached the matter of statistics to Fukuzawa, and we should exercise considerable caution in assuming that the positive response by Fukuzawa to Ōkuma’s proposal in 1879 is directly indicative of his attitude toward the actual establishment of the Tōkei’in in 1881.
107 Kure Ayatoshi, “Tōkei kaikyūdan,” 201. 108 Fukuzawa Yukichi, letter to Ōkuma Shigenobu, 31 January 1879, in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 17, 279–281.
Even so, if we consider the state of Fukuzawa’s relationships with Ōkuma and with Yano at the time, it would be a mistake to think that Fukuzawa was out of the loop in the political history surrounding the establishment of the Bureau of Statistics. As Ōkuma recalled in a later reminiscence about the establishment of the the Bureau of Statistics and the Board of Audit, “Somewhat prior to that I had become friendly with Fukuzawa down in Mita, and had gotten to know some of his students and followers. I was asked to take care of some of them, beginning with Yano Fumio, Nakagamigawa Hikojirō, and Koizumi Nobukichi. Eventually about a dozen or so talented alumni from Keiō joined the Bureau of Statistics and the Board of Audit. The youngest of the group were Inukai and Ozaki.”109 This friendly contact between Fukuzawa and Ōkuma began around 1878 (Meiji 11), and has been attributed in part to a shift in Fukuzawa’s political orientation and strategy that drew him closer to Ōkuma. For many years, Fukuzawa had adopted the stance he set out in Bunmeiron no gairyaku, seeing government as opposed to “the intellectual energies of the people.” But by the time his Minjō isshin (The Renovation of the People’s Spirit) was published in 1879 (Meiji 12), he had arrived at an emphatic call for cooperation between gov- ernment officials and the people. In other words, by the late 1870s Fukuzawa was becoming increasingly wary of the crude and unbending antigovernment radicalism of the Freedom and Popular Rights Movement and had begun to seek a more stable model of government along the lines of the British parlia- mentary and cabinet system. Therefore, he hoped by sending a cadre of his most promising Keiō graduates and followers into government service that he could arouse interest and support for a parliamentary system from within the government itself.110 Inukai Tsuyoshi himself, one of the Keiō faction who joined the Tōkei’in, later remarked that at the time Keiō Gijuku “gave the impres- sion of being something of a training school for politicians.”111 Ōkuma Shigenobu was sympathetic to these ideas of Fukuzawa’s, and soon began to surround him- self with a cadre of young government bureaucrats drawn from Keiō Gijuku. First and foremost among them was Yano Fumio, who entered the Ministry of Finance in 1879 (Meiji 11) and was the de facto leader in the actual work of set- ting up the Dajōkan Tōkei’in. His appointment to the Ministry of Finance was the result of a very positive recommendation from Fukuzawa to Ōkuma.112
109 Waseda Daigaku Shiryoshi Henshūjo, Okuma-kō sekijitsu tan, 149. 110 Ishikawa Kanmei, Fukuzawa Yukichi den, vol. 3, 1–126; Tomita Masafumi, Kōshō Fukuzawa Yukichi, vol. 2, 520–538; Itō Masao, Fukuzawa Yukichi ronkō, 513–530; Itō Yahiko, Ishin to jinshin, Chapter 4. 111 Inukai Tsuyoshi, Mokudō mandan, 288. 112 Yano Fumio, “Okuma-kō sekijitsutan (ho),” 489.
It is also clear from correspondence dating to 1881 (Meiji 14) that Fukuzawa continued to inquire about and receive information from Yano (by then occu- pying a dual appointment as secretary of the Tōkei’in and great secretary to the Dajōkan) regarding internal developments within the government and the maneuvering of Ōkuma, Itō, and Inoue around the issue of the convening of a Diet.113 Taking all of these elements into consideration, while it is impossible to know definitively how enthusiastically Fukuzawa supported Ōkuma’s plans, we can make the observation that the Dajōkan Tōkei’in, the Bureau of Statistics, with its goal of nurturing a group of talented young government bureaucrats (who happened to be Keiō alumni) in anticipation of a soon-to-be-convened Diet, was born out of a significant overlap between Ōkuma’s political ambitions and Fukuzawa’s own strategies. If we return now to an examination of these issues from the standpoint of statistical science, we find that one aspect of the discrepancies that emerged between Fukuzawa Yukichi and Sugi Kōji with regard to their actual activities surrounding the establishment of the Tōkei’in was the firmly rooted ideal of a central statistical bureau. The concept of a central statistical bureau that Sugi had derived from his reading and translation of Vissering’s lectures was simply not as salient an aspect of Fukuzawa’s involvement with statistics, which was mediated through his reading of Buckle. In other words, in Vissering’s lectures, which Sugi had encountered thanks to Nishi and Tsuda, statistics was seen as a science that could assist “government ministers.” From Vissering, Sugi learned that a central statistical bureau should be an independent and politically neutral research institution which played a significant role in the type of law- making and government administration that would establish a free society grounded in natural laws. In contrast, for Fukuzawa statistics was a methodol- ogy for “scholars” as “theorists of civilization,” and he did not really develop a vision of the institutional implications or utility of a central statistical bureau. The difference in their approach to this issue seems to have clearly manifested itself in the different reactions and responses they had to Ōkuma’s blatant uti- lization of the Tōkei’in as a political tool. In what is known as the Political Crisis of 1881, Ōkuma was forced out of office on October 13, an event immediately followed by the resignations or dis- missals of Yano, Ozaki, Inukai, and other members of the Keiō faction. Sugi found himself virtually alone at his post after the political storm had swept through the Tōkei’in. He later recalled: “One day I arrived at the Bureau and the
113 Fukuzawa Yukichi, letter to Koizumi Shinkichi and Hinohara Shōzō (17 June 1881), and letter to Inoe Kaoru and Itō Hirobumi (14 October 1881), in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 17, 453, 476.
Conflicting Conceptions of Civilization In the early Meiji period, as is clear from the example of the Ministry of Finance’s Tōkeiryō under the leadership of Ōkuma Shigenobu, the European science of statistics garnered attention as a tool of the government for the effective administration of such matters as taxation. In this chapter, however, we have also seen different aspects of the adaptation of European statistics from an analysis of such apparently unrelated texts as Outline of a Theory of Civilization and Hyōki teikō. Intellectuals such as Fukuzawa Yukichi, Tsuda Mamichi, and Nishi Amane had touched upon the essence of Quételet’s con- temporary European statistics through their encounters with Buckle and Vissering. For them the science of statistics was not merely a mathematical means for the analysis of empirical data. Rather, what emerges in both these books is a genuine engagement with the methodology and sociological men- tality of statistics as “a new science of civilization” conceiving of society itself as an autonomous entity whose natural laws could be determined through the facts and principles (jitsuri 実理) revealed by large-scale empirical observation. This encounter with a scholarly methodology grounded in objective empirical investigation of the facts of social life led these men to reexamine the view of government and politics that they had inherited from traditional—primarily Confucian—teachings and became an important impetus towards developing and deepening new forms of sociopolitical awareness. On the other hand, we cannot overlook the fact that their engagement with the European science of statistics was directly connected to the issue of how its achievements might best be employed to advance the progress of Japanese civilization. And in the face of this unique political challenge confronting Meiji Japan, Fukuzawa’s response was diametrically opposed to that of Nishi and Tsuda. What Nishi and Tsuda learned from Vissering’s lectures was that statis- tics was an indispensable science for shaping civilized society, making it possible to clarify “the actual condition” of society by defining the natural laws informing social life. The knowledge thus gained could then be used to
114 Sugi Kōji, “Sugi sensei jitsureki dan,” in Sugi sensei kōenshū zen, 52.
115 Fukuzawa, Gakumon no susume, 50; Dilworth and Hirano, 33.
1 Political Economy as the Twin Sister of Statistics
In his lectures on statistics, Simon Vissering treated political economy as the twin sister of statistics, with both sciences aimed at elucidating social life (het maatschappelijk leven, aiseiyō no michi 相生養之道) and acting to “supplement one another” for the study of human society. This chapter will examine Visse ring’s lectures on political economy to Nishi and Tsuda, who, having acquired a foundation in statistical methods, moved on to study the structures of social life, the relationship between state and society, and the mechanisms support ing wealth and prosperity. As mentioned in the Introduction, Nishi Amane wrote the following in a letter to his friend Matsuoka Rinjirō in June 1862 (Bunkyū 2.5):
From what I have been recently able to discern from my limited knowl edge of the Western sciences of human nature [seirigaku 性理学], politi cal economy [keizaigaku 経済学], and so forth, I have discovered that they are astonishingly fair and impartial in their judgments, and in this sense extremely different from the various traditions of Chinese scholar ship… In their study of philosophy [hirosohi ヒロソヒ], their explanation of the principles of human nature [seimei no ri 性命之理] is more penetrat ing than that of the Neo-Confucians, with postulates grounded in the way of nature; the founding principles of their government and political economy are superior to the so-called benevolent monarchy [ōsei 王政] of Confucianism.1
This letter was written before Nishi went to the Netherlands, and the term keizai 経済 as used here (itself an abbreviation of the phrase keisei saimin 経世 済民, literally “governing the realm and bringing relief to the common people”) was not necessarily the most accurate translation of the nineteenth-century European concept of “political economy.” Yet even so, Nishi’s comparison of it
1 Nishi Amane, letter to Matsuoka Rinjirō (1862), in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 8.
© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2014 | doi 10.1163/9789004245372_005
2 As Irene Hasenberg Butter has observed, in the Dutch universities of the time, political econ omy and statistics were established within the institutional framework of the faculties of law, and many political economists actively contributed to the development of statistics as a dis cipline and to the improvement of government administration of statistical data. (Academic Economics in Holland, 34, 54, 65–67.) 3 Simon Vissering, “De beginselen der staathuishoudkunde.” Tsuda’s handwritten manuscript is preserved in the Rare Book and Manuscript Collection, Keiō University. A printed version has been published in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei.
Our teacher had already published a work on these principles of political economy. It was to be a substantial tome, comprising four books. Yet at the time we were to return home he had not yet finished the manuscript of the last book, of which he later sent us two copies. So for our lectures on political economy, as our professor already had a published text, he did not prepare other notes, and used the book as the basis for his remarks to us, citing portions of it as needed.4
The published work to which Nishi refers is Vissering’s Handboek van prak- tische staathuishoudkunde (Handbook of Practical Political Economy; 2 vols., Amsterdam: 1860–61, 1862–65). With the publication of this work, Vissering established his reputation as one of the leading Dutch political economists of the nineteenth century. As Nishi’s remarks suggest, the work was divided into four books but published in two volumes (the first containing Books 1 and 2; the second, Books 3 and 4), the first three of which Vissering had completed writing during the period of Nishi and Tsuda’s studies with him. Unlike the other four courses, the lectures on political economy were not given on the basis of notes prepared by Vissering, but instead used this work as a textbook. In the Dutch summary prepared by Tsuda of the content of the political econ omy lectures, the introduction and a list of the first thirteen chapters is pro vided, accompanied by corresponding brief extracts from the text of the Handboek. In short, the lectures on political economy were directly related to Vissering’s field of professional specialization and it seems clear that the instruction he offered in them focused on his own original work. Of course, since we do not have Nishi and Tsuda’s detailed lecture notes in Dutch nor their Japanese translations, as we do for the other four courses in the curriculum, we cannot know how broadly or deeply Vissering may have lec tured on any given topic; nor can we hope to know in any detailed or precise manner how what he taught was understood and interpreted by Nishi and Tsuda. However, through a comparison of Tsuda’s memo on the content of the course with the text of the Handboek, we can get a fairly clear picture of what subjects were covered and the perspective and orientation that Vissering brought to teaching them. Because political economy was Vissering’s main field of specialization, we must make the effort to examine these lectures as best we can in order to truly understand the nature and significance of Vissering’s five-course curriculum as a whole. Nishi and Tsuda themselves were also aware that political economy formed the backbone of Vissering’s scholarship and they expressed keen interest in
4 Nishi Amane, “Goka kuketsu kiryaku,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 141.
The science is especially of great importance to us, as you have pointed out. Now our people look only to the surface of European civilization, but do not see the fundamental principles underlying European prosperity. I hope that this science will be studied in our country. Despite the fact that your book is too advanced for this purpose, it is to me of great importance.5
Nishi also wrote to Vissering:
At the time of the revolution in my country [meaning the Meiji Restoration], the collection of books I brought over from Europe, includ ing the previous edition of your work, was completely lost. So I thought that when correspondence between us became easier, I would request from you another copy. But now, unanticipated, I have in hand, through your thoughtfulness, a copy of the new edition, to my great enjoyment. I am very appreciative of your kindness and will study it with respect and enthusiasm. Ah, but how unfortunate! our present political circum stances may perhaps have followed the type of evil thinking that you denounce time and time again in your book.6
Even if we discount the fact that these were both letters of thanks for a gift, we can sense that from the Handboek Nishi and Tsuda learned something of “the fundamental principles underlying European prosperity” and used that per spective as a standard for diagnosing the political condition of Japan in the years following the Meiji Restoration. So it is certainly meaningful to examine the Handboek in order to better understand the fundamental principles of civi lization that Nishi and Tsuda harvested during their two years of study in the Netherlands. Nishi and Tsuda’s engagement with Vissering’s lectures on political econ omy, and the views of the state, social ethics, and the principles of European civilization contained therein, would shape the Meiji-period discourses of both men on scholarship, politics, and foreign relations. And it would also have a profound influence on the philosophical investigations of Nishi in particular.
5 Tsuda Mamichi, letter to Simon Vissering, 20 February 1873, in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 204. 6 Nishi Amane, letter to Simon Vissering, 23 February 1873, in ibid., 205.
With the entry into the Meiji period, Nishi had become keenly aware of the necessity of an overall reform of Japanese society—which confronted him, at the outset, with the problem of how society itself was to be perceived and understood. Seeking a fundamental answer to these questions, he embarked on a reevaluation of the received traditions of scholarship and deepened his investigation into the philosophical issues that lay at the core of his studies in Europe, carrying on a serious engagement with Western philosophy, including Auguste Comte’s positivism and the thought of John Stuart Mill. He translated the work of the English critic and philosopher George Henry Lewes on Comte, and also the American moral philosopher Joseph Haven’s Mental Philosophy (1857). Rigaku (1877), his translation of Mill’s Utilitarianism, pioneered the introduction of this philosophy in modern Japan. In addition, Nishi published original works, such as Chichi keimō (Logic and Enlightenment, 1874), and wrote several articles on philosophy articles for Meiroku zasshi, such as “Chi setsu” (On Intellect) and “Jinsei sanpō setsu” (The Three Human Treasures). Moreover, using the language of the Chinese classics and the Buddhist canon and at times resorting to neologisms of his own invention, Nishi created and established many of the words used to translate the key concepts of Western philosophy into Japanese. Examples include kinōhō 帰納法 (induction), enekihō 演繹法 (deduction), gainen 概念 (concept), shukan 主観 (subjective), teigi 定義 (definition), amongst numerous others. These words are still widely used as phil osophical terminology in Japan today, but Nishi is perhaps best known for his rendering of the word “philosophy” itself, for which he coined the term tetsugaku 哲学. This creation of Nishi’s spread beyond Japan to the rest of East Asia, and continues to be used in China (where it is pronounced zhexue) as the translation for “philosophy.” According to Nishi, his choice of the word tetsugaku was based on a passage in Tong shu, a text by one of the founders of Song Neo-Confucian thought in eleventh-century China, Zhou Maoshu, which spoke of the scholar- gentleman’s “quest for wisdom.” As we saw in the letter he wrote to his friend Matsuoka even before departing for the Netherlands, from the start Nishi com bined an awareness of the scholarly traditions and systems of Confucianism, and especially the Neo-Confucianism of the Zhu Xi school, with an active receptivity toward Western philosophy. His contribution to philosophical scholarship in modern Japan from its inception is almost unimaginably great. Because of the considerable intellectual and academic significance of Nishi’s philosophical work of the early Meiji period, there have been a number of studies of Nishi’s involvement and struggle with Comte’s positivism, Mill’s utilitarianism, and the works of Lewes and Haven.7 Yet surprisingly little
7 For previous studies of Nishi’s philosophical works, see Koizumi Takashi, Nishi Amane to Ōbei shisō to no deai and “J.S. Mill, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Nishi Amane no kōri genri tekiyōhō”; Inoue
2 The Lectures on Political Economy and Aiseiyō no michi
Let us begin with a look at the introduction to Tsuda’s lecture outline in Dutch. It is only in this portion of Tsuda’s memo that the main points are stated as complete sentences. First, Vissering reviews the history of the concept of politi cal economy and points out that it began in the middle of the eighteenth cen tury as “knowledge about the economy of the state.” According to Vissering, however, as research in this field deepened it was eventually understood that the interests of the state were inseparable from the prosperity of the populace. Then, with the advent of Adam Smith, it became clear that “the social life (het maatschappelijk leven) of a nation, and of all nations, is subject to certain fixed laws which are derived from the nature of human beings living upon the earth.”8
Atsushi, “Nishi Amane to Jukyō dōtoku”; Omae Futoshi, “Nishi Amane ni okeru ‘psychology’ to ‘shinrigaku’ no aida”; Hasunuma Keisuke, Nishi Amane ni okeru tetsugaku no seiritsu and “‘Kaidaimon’ no seiritsu jijō”; Miyamura Haruo, Shintei Nihon seiji shisō shi; Sugawara Hikaru, Nishi Amane no seiji shisō. 8 Simon Vissering, “De beginselen der staathuishoudkunde,” 128–129.
The result was that contemporary political economy could be defined as follows. First, political economy was to elucidate “the natural laws or rules (natuurlijke wetten of regelen) by which society or communal life is governed.” Then, it was to study “how the prosperity of nations could be stimulated in accordance with the working of these natural laws.” It must then analyze how “government damages the prosperity of the nation particularly through bad policies based on ignorance of these natural laws,” and explicate “how natural laws in each circumstance and in any condition of the nation have to be taken into account by the government and administration of the state.” It is here that we find the ultimate objective of political economy.9 This introduction concludes with the statement that political economy comprises both “a general theoretical aspect, in which the natural laws (de natuurlijke wetten) governing any society or nation are investigated” and a more practical study of the particular conditions pertaining to specific nations or peoples. According to Vissering, the attention of “European political econo mists” is fundamentally directed toward “the conditions of European society,” while Japan and other nations are confronted by different sets of issues. Nevertheless, he says that the purpose of these lectures is to investigate what he calls “general natural laws (de algemeene natuurlijke wetten)…which are applicable for every society and every nation without distinction” and consti tute “the fundamental principles of all political economy.”10 Here we see the main themes of Vissering’s political economy expressed in almost perfect form: that it should elucidate the natural laws and natural order supporting human social life, and on that basis, seek to discover the methods that will lead to the welfare and prosperity of social life. One expression we should pay particular attention to is “natural laws or rules” (natuurlijke wetten of regelen). As in his lectures on statistics, in the lec tures on political economy Vissering understands natural laws in terms of reg ularity derived from careful empirical observation. Opposite the first page of the Handboek, there is an epigram in the form of a quotation from Jean-Baptiste Say’s Traité d’Economie politique (1803):
These principles are not the work of men; they derive from the nature of things. We do not establish them: we discover them.
The central concern of the lectures on political economy was, as this suggests, directed towards understanding “the fundamental principles of
9 Ibid., 129–130. 10 Ibid., 130–131.
Social Life and the Fundamental Principles of Prosperity The main portion of Tsuda’s Dutch memo on the political economy lectures consisted of thirteen chapter titles, followed by numbers corresponding to rel evant sections of Vissering’s Handboek van praktische staathuishoudkunde.11 In what follows, I will attempt to reconstruct Vissering’s lectures on political economy and provide an analysis of the content of each of these chapters by collating the information provided in Tsuda’s memo with the corresponding portions of the Handboek. The first chapter of the lectures, “The Foundations of Social Life,” corre sponds to the eight subsections in the first section of the introductory chapter of the Handboek. In it, Vissering states that “the foundation of the natural order” of “communal life” and “society” is to be found in the “needs” (de behoeften) innately sought by “humans as material and spiritual beings.”12
11 The chapter titles of the series of lectures and the corresponding sections of Vissering’s Handboek were listed in Tsuda’s Dutch memo as follows: Chapter 1: The Foundations of Social Life/Handboek: Introduction, Section 1 (1–8). Chapter 2: Needs of Mankind and their Fulfillment/Handboek: Introduction, Section 1 (9–16), and vol. 1, Chapter 7, On Luxury. Chapter 3: Labor and the Division of Labor/Handboek: Introduction, Section 1 (17–22), and vol. 1, Chapter 1, Commentary On National Industry in General. Chapter 4: Exchange and Value/Handboek: Introduction, Section 1 (23–33), and vol. 1, Chapter 1, Section 5, On Monopoly and Competition. Chapter 5: Money/Handboek: Introduction, Section 1 (34–42), and vol. 1, Chapter 5, Monetary System. Chapter 6: Prices/Handboek: Introduction, Section 1 (43–49). Chapter 7: Wages for Labor/Handboek: Introduction, Section 1 (50–58), and vol. 2, Chapter 4, Daily Wages for Labor. Chapter 8: Capital/Handboek: Introduction, Section 1 (59–63). Chapter 9: Credit and Interest/Handboek: Introduction, Section 1 (69–77), and vol. 1, Chapter 6, Credit and Banking. Chapter 10: The Theory of Population and the Means of its Subsistence/Handboek: vol. 2, Chapter 1, Population and the Means of its Subsistence, and Chapter 3, On Poverty. Chapter 11: Theory of Property/Handboek: vol. 2, Chapter 8, Property. Chapter 12: The Relationship between State and Society/Handboek: vol. 3, Division 2, Chapter 2, On its Means and Revenue of State, and Chapter 4, On Taxation. Chapter 13: the Expenditures of State/Handboek: vol. 3, Division 3, Chapter 1–3, On the Expenditures of State. 12 Simon Vissering, Handboek van praktische staathuishoudkunde, deel 1, 1.
In other words, these needs stemming from the natural demands of the human organism—precisely because they are, in fact, necessary—are acknowledged as the starting point for political economy. Vissering tells us that human beings have mastered the surrounding natural world, enjoying its products and pro cessing them for consumption, in order to fulfill their own needs. Because any individual is, however, unable to fulfill all of his needs in isolation, some form of “reciprocal aid” with other people is essential. In fact, “as human beings progress in knowledge, in mastery over nature, and in civilization, their needs also increase. And the necessity of reciprocal assistance and service increases correspondingly.”13 Thus, in order to “fulfill communal needs” the bonds of communal life and corporation are formed, strengthened, and expanded— from family life to tribal associations, unified states and, eventually, “interna tional intercourse” (het volkenverkeer).14 In pursuit of their “own well-being” (eigen welzijn) and its fulfillment, people become engaged in activities that are directed toward the achievement of the “common welfare” (gemeenen nutte). Upon the foundation of this basic human nature, the main themes of political economy are established—“the division of labor, exchange of goods and ser vices, value, prices and income, property, order, rights, and law”—consistently regulated by natural rules (de natuurlijke regelen). In Chapter 2 of the lectures, Vissering provides further explanation of the human needs and their fulfillment that form the basis for economic activity and social life. Here as well, Vissering understands human instincts in terms of both material and spiritual aspects and classifies human needs into those hav ing to do with existence and survival (such as food, clothing, and shelter), and those having to do with cultivation of the spirit. In human society, under the influence of communal life and the development of civilization, these spiritual needs increase in number and diversity and the demand for them becomes increasingly strong. It is these needs that constitute “a consistent motive force demanding ever renewed and ever increasing social labor and the desire for the greater expansion of social intercourse (het maatschappelijk verkeer).”15 Labor, and the division thereof, which are the theme of the third chapter, are established on the basis of the needs just discussed. Human beings are driven to labor to fulfill their needs, and thus participate in the production of wealth. Vissering then enumerates and explains various types of work directly involved in the production of wealth, from those such as mining, fishing, hunt ing, herding, and agriculture that depend on the harvesting of natural resources,
13 Ibid., 2–3. 14 Ibid., 3. 15 Ibid., 4–8.
16 Ibid., 9–12; details 91–135. 17 Ibid., 14. 18 Ibid., 16. 19 Ibid., 17. 20 Ibid., 17–19. 21 Ibid., 84. 22 Ibid., 85.
Harmonizing Individual Happiness and the Public Interest Thus, Vissering understood innate human needs as the point of origin for eco nomic theory, and argued that the pursuit of their fulfillment is what shapes social life and gives rise to labor, the division of labor, and the exchange of goods. This in turn leads to an expansion of social intercourse, diversification of work, and a qualitative advance from material to spiritual needs—in the course of which mankind also advances from barbarism to civilized society. He valued the pursuit of self-interest (het eigenbelang), believing that in the “har monization” of individual happiness and the public interest of society in a sys tem of free competition there existed natural laws that would ensure the prosperity of society and the advance of civilization. Herein we see the basic posture of Vissering’s economic thought. Yet Vissering did not favor an unrestricted expansion of selfishness, nor did he approve of self-indulgent hedonism. Evidence of this is to be found in his discussion of luxury, as hinted at in Tsuda’s memo on the second chapter. This reference corresponds to Book 1, Part 1, Chapter 7 of the Handboek.23 There, Vissering begins by observing that the world is overrun with two conflicting positions on the subject of luxury. The first seeks policies to suppress it, think ing that luxury is to be feared as a cause of impoverishment. The other believes that luxury consumption should be encouraged in order to distribute the riches of the wealthy among the general population. But Vissering sees both of these arguments as fallacious. With regard to the former, he sees the problem as being that “the concept of luxury is itself… a relative one.” What is seen as a necessity in one nation can appear to be an extravagant luxury in another. Moreover, in some cases goods that were once seen as limited to a privileged few are now regarded as everyday necessities by the general populace. The boundary between licit and illicit luxury is essentially an arbitrary one, drawn without any real basis by the rul ing powers of the time. Ill-considered policies to suppress luxury result in plac ing unprofitable limitations on the production and exchange of goods and the development of society.24 On the other hand, there are also problems with policies promoting luxury consumption by the affluent in the hopes that a trickle-down effect will enrich the general populace. Why? Because this will encourage a transitory and essen tially destructive dissipation of wealth, instead of more prudent and thrifty behavior leading to the accumulation of capital and its employment to gener ate new wealth. It is a complete mistake to use public funds to encourage such
23 Ibid., 471–473. 24 Ibid., 471–473
The lighter the tax obligation, the more people will keep themselves. The larger this surplus, the more people will use it in different ways that nour ish industry. This will result not only in much benefit to themselves, but also great advantage to society in general.25
Vissering then cites a passage from Adam Smith’s The Wealth of Nations con cerning luxuries and necessities,26 and redefines luxury as the enjoyment of goods and services beyond the necessities recognized by one’s social environ ment and customs. Thus, luxury becomes an essentially neutral concept. Therefore, for Vissering, the key question becomes one of distinguishing between “permissible” and “impermissible” luxuries. He defines permissible luxuries as those with which each individual “according to his talents, continu ally strives to improve his condition, using the gifts of nature as much as possible for that purpose, refining his enjoyment, nourishing his spirit with the knowl edge, and satisfying his aesthetic sense.”27 In contrast, impermissible luxuries are those that result from unregulated consumption exceeding the individual’s income and which lead to profligate and unproductive squandering of wealth. With this discourse on luxury, Vissering maintains his emphasis on the desire to expand and augment self-interest but without falling into hedonistic consumption of wealth. What he advocates is the establishment and practice of a market morality, an ethics of civilized society that would gradually and harmoniously lead to an expansion of the public welfare as a result of the indi vidual’s concern with the achievement of his own happiness, exercising thrift and diligence within a specific social environment and historical stage of civilization. According to Tsuda’s memo, from Chapter 5 of the lectures onward, while basing his discussion on the economic principles outlined above, Vissering pro vided more detailed explanation of specific economic phenomena, institutions, and concepts deriving from these principles. In Chapter 5, Vissering discusses money, and in Chapter 6, “Prices,” he explains how competition in the context of “free social intercourse” influences market price and production price.28
25 Ibid., 478–479. 26 Ibid., 484–485. Adam Smith, The Wealth of Nations, 393. 27 Ibid., 476. 28 Ibid., 23–29.
Chapter 7 is concerned with the deterioration of working conditions as a result of the influx of cheap labor attendant upon urbanization. In his view, the solution was none other than encouraging the “free and gradual develop ment” of industry, as the orderly increase of social capital and its unrestricted use was indispensable. Rather than resorting to excessive government inter vention, it was important to maintain fairness between employers and work ers and establish an environment in which workers could feel that their labor and efforts were directed toward their own prosperity, both material and spiritual.29 After he explains capital, credit, and interest in Chapters 8 and 9, he grap ples with the theme of population in Chapter 10. Vissering says that although in this century the dangers of overpopulation have been frequently and seri ously debated, such fears and complaints are exaggerated and groundless. According to him, “In a healthy and natural social condition in which the labor and capital of a nation are given freedom of action, the increase of national wealth in general will proceed more rapidly than increases of population, and the harm of overpopulation will naturally be reduced.”30 A greater danger is that of overreaction and the hasty implementation of policies to control popu lation or reduce unemployment, which can erode morals and consume capital. Large-scale unemployment programs can make the underclass of a country irresponsible and indolent, and even lead to overpopulation. Instead, Vissering advocates policies that would do away with unpredictable measures against unemployment, remove excessive incentives to industry, eliminate obstacles to social intercourse, and prevent over-consumption of capital. For him, nur turing a sense of individual responsibility among the citizenry was perhaps the most important thing.31 This lecture also dealt with poverty and the system of poor relief. As mea sures to address the problem of poverty, Vissering proposes, first and foremost, that “the increase of social wealth” will have a beneficial effect on all classes. In addition, the spread of “better knowledge concerning the genuine interests of their subjects” will prevent misgovernment on the part of the rulers. Moreover, the “cultivation of mind, expansion of science, refinement of manners, and purer and deeper piety” would extend a positive influence over material life as well.32 Conversely, unnatural and artificial policies will not only weaken peo ple’s sense of themselves and strengthen their dependency on others, they will
29 Ibid., 28–37, details 426–437. 30 Ibid., 317. 31 Ibid., 317–318. 32 Ibid., 359.
33 Ibid., 371–379. 34 Butter, Academic Economics in Holland, 121–126. 35 Vissering, Handboek, deel 1, 294–309.
Similarly, while Vissering cites John Stuart Mill’s Principles of Political Economy with approval in his discussion of primogeniture, workers’ wages and so on, he adds his own distinctive analysis. As an example of this, let us con sider the discussion of the taxes on property registration and the stamp duty.36 First, Vissering points out that imposing a tax on contracts for sale of real estate or property is none other than an obstacle to social intercourse. He then cites the opinions of J.S. Mill as a fair and superlative judgement on this issue. According to Mill, imposing a tax on the transaction and contract between a seller (whether making the sale through his own free choice or for unavoidable reasons) and a buyer (with the desire and ability to seek to derive greater profit as a result of the purchase) constitutes a clear obstruction. Vissering offers strong assent to this argument of Mill’s, yet goes on to say that if we consider this in light of present historical and social circumstances, taxes like these rep resent a necessary evil that cannot be speedily abolished. Why? Because they represent a significant portion of the nation’s tax revenues, and because they are levied primarily upon wealthy property owners, they are an extremely effi cacious revenue source. Thus, Vissering makes active use of the fruits of eighteenth- and nineteenth- century political economy to offer gradualist prescriptions that take into con sideration both the actual legal and institutional environment and the historical processes that produced it. As the title Handboek van praktische staathuishoud- kunde (Handbook of Practical Political Economy) suggests, Vissering embraced a strong faith in the natural progress of civilized society, and on that basis urged the development of specific, concrete, and persuasive policy solutions keyed to existing social conditions. In his advocacy of such “practical” efforts we may find the essence of Vissering’s approach to political economy.
Property: A Critique of Communism and Oriental Despotism “Property,” Chapter 11 in Tsuda’s memo, probably expresses in more striking form than any other the essential characteristics of Vissering’s ideas on politi cal economy. This corresponds to Chapter 8, the final chapter in Book 1, Part 2 of the Handboek. This chapter begins with introductory remarks in which Vissering says that the discussion of property rights subsumes all the other categories previously examined—labor, production, wages, exchange, value, capital, credit, and so on—representing a great compendium of economic investigation of social prosperity. But this is not the only reason why he has chosen this discussion to conclude Book 1. Citing Smith, Malthus, Say, and Sismondi, he says that previous political economists have not necessarily
36 Vissering, Handboek, deel 2, 139–142.
37 Vissering, Handboek, deel 1, 491–492. 38 Ibid., 493–494. 39 Ibid., 493–497. 40 Ibid., 500. In support of this discussion of property rights, Vissering cites Chapter 5 of John Locke’s Second Treatise of Government (Ibid., 496). For Locke’s political thought, see John Dunn, Locke.
41 Vissering, Handboek, deel 1, 501. 42 Ibid., 501. 43 Ibid., 504–511. 44 Ibid., 555.
45 Ibid., 560. 46 Ibid., 555–556. 47 Tsuda Mamichi, “Taisei hōgaku yōryō,” in Tsuda Mamichi zenshū, vol. 1, 107. 48 Nishi Amane, “Kokumin kifū ron,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 2, 107; translated into English by William R. Braisted, assisted by Adachi Yasushi and Kikuchi Yūji, 391. 49 Vissering, Handboek, deel 1, 561.
The Relationship of State and Society Finally, let us touch on the last two lectures covered in Tsuda’s memo, Chapters 12 and 13. In these chapters, as a kind of general summation, Vissering exam ines the relationship between state and society, and the role of the government. In the first chapter of the third book of Vissering’s Handboek, the following argument is developed:
Human social life encompasses all the nations (volken) of the earth, and the laws which naturally govern social life apply to mutual intercourse in all the parts of the world.51
Yet human beings differ by “race, descent, dwelling place,” by “custom,” “degree of civilization,” and by “usage and language,” so that they have developed into disparate “nations,” each connected by particular social bonds. This in turn gives rise to the state (de staat). The state is indispensable to “increasing public
50 Ibid., 563–564. 51 Vissering, Handboek, deel 2, 5.
52 Ibid., 6. 53 Ibid., 7. 54 Ibid., 9. 55 Ibid., 11. 56 Ibid., 16–17. 57 Ibid., 23.
58 Ibid., 24. 59 Vissering, Handboek, deel 1, 61–62. 60 Ibid., 119–120. 61 Ibid., 58.
Through the mutual relations of the civilized nations (beschaafde staten), diplomacy has become the method by which to achieve intercourse among nations as members of a greater world society (als leden der groote wereldmaatschappij) safely organized for mutual benefit.62
As we shall see in the next chapter, Vissering’s views on political economy— especially this sense of the expansion of “intercourse” among nations atten dant upon the progress of civilization and advocacy for the development of diplomacy—have a profound connection to his lectures on international law.
Liberty and the Science of Social Life As we have seen, the political economy that Nishi and Tsuda learned from Vissering took as its point of departure the instinctual desire of human beings to fulfill their needs. From fulfillment of these individual needs through free eco nomic activity organized around labor, the division of labor, and trade are derived the fundamental principles of social prosperity upon which liberal eco nomic theory depends. In addition, an empirical methodology employing statis tical science to derive natural laws provides the basis for discovering the natural order residing within the autonomous life of human society. In short, the well- being of the individuals comprising society and the public benefit of society as a whole are harmonized in the free and autonomous operations of social life. This is how political society establishes itself among the most civilized nations (de meest beschaafde volken). Because of this, radical government policies and oppressive external interventions must be avoided. It is characteristic of Vissering’s political economy that it attempts to offer practical prescriptions for assisting the progress of civilization while at the same time depicting the pro cess as one in which each society develops naturally and gradually from within. In concluding this discussion of Vissering’s lectures on political economy, I would like to take another look at the address that Vissering gave upon his appointment as a professor at Leiden University, “Redevoering over vrijheid: het grondbeginsel der staathuishoudkunde” (A Speech on Freedom: the Foun dations of Political Economy), which we touched on in the first chapter. In this speech, Vissering has the following to say regarding political economy.63
62 Vissering, Handboek, deel 2, 14–15. 63 Simon Vissering, Redevoering over vrijheid, het grondbeginsel der staathuishoundkunde, 4–25.
History is a process in which “freedom has continually emerged victorious in the struggle against tyranny.” It has eventuated in the establishment of “clear boundaries among mutual rights and duties” based on principles of “self- interest” and “mutual assistance” that “follow the laws inscribed in nature.” The “science of social life,” beginning with the political economy of Adam Smith, was itself a science that had appeared in the midst of the struggle of liberty against tyranny in the latter half of the eighteenth century. “The science of social life or (to use the apt and popular phrase), political economy, teaches us that genuine liberty is the sole condition for the welfare of both individual citizens and of society.” He describes its purpose as “the investigation of the natural laws (de natuurlijke wetten) of social life and the elucidation of how national wealth may be secured and the prosperity of the citizens extended.”64 Utilizing the results of such research, liberty is established, engendering a “glo rious harmony” in which “the advancement of one’s own interests advances the interests of the whole.” In 1845, Vissering addressed a central topic of contemporary debate, arguing the cause of free trade in a paper entitled “De Vrije graanhandel” (Free Trade in Grain). He claimed that while there was a limit to the scope of agricultural production in any single country, “if trade were conducted on a grander scale, its reliability would increase, costs could be reduced, and great profits could be achieved.”65 There is scarcely any need to reiterate that such examples of Vissering’s political economic thought are related to his involvement in the liberal movement in the era in which it established a new political order in the Netherlands. At the root of Vissering’s perception of statistics and political economy as sciences of social life is a vision of history centered on the concept of liberty; one which interpreted the process leading to the French Revolution of the late eighteenth century as a struggle by the people to secure their liberty and rights. Broadly speaking, the concept of rights and duties as fundamental to human nature that Vissering conveyed to Nishi and Tsuda in his lectures on constitu tional law was also, for him, a historical product achieved through the progress of civilized society and the growth of constitutional government in Europe since the latter part of the eighteenth century. Thus, in his lectures on consti tutional law, he taught that the purpose of the state was that of “enhancing the well-being of the entire nation and working to maintain its independence,” “protecting the rights and security of the citizens” and “uniting popular
64 Ibid., 16. 65 Simon Vissering, “De Vrije graanhandel,” in Herinneringen, vol. 2, 34. Cf., Butter, Academic Economics in Holland, 77–80.
66 Vissering/Tsuda Mamichi, Taisei kokuhō ron, in Tsuda Mamichi zenshū. vol. 1, 141. 67 Simon Vissering, “Natuurregt,” 12–16; translation by Nishi Amane, Seihō setsuyaku, 14–21. 68 On the relationship between jurisprudence and natural law in Adam Smith’s thought, see Knud Haakonssen, Natural Law and Moral Philosophy.
Natural Laws and Aiseiyō no michi That Nishi and Tsuda assimilated the principles of civilized society underlying Vissering’s lectures on political economy and began to use them in their own discourse during their sojourn in the Netherlands and after their return to Japan is clearly shown in the various polemical writings they have left us. For example, in 1874, Tsuda wrote a piece for Meiroku zasshi entitled “Sōzōron” (On Imagination) in which he states:
What we refer to as the principles of morality or political economy largely arise from imagination. If conjectures on things are verified by experi ment, these principles are then regarded as unchanging Laws of Heaven. But if conjectures are proved wrong by experiment, we know that prin ciples diverge from facts.69
In other words, Tsuda was proposing political economy as a science seeking to discover enduring natural laws through experimental verification.
69 Tsuda Mamichi, “Sōzōron,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 1, 418–419; Braisted, 168.
For his part, in an undated manuscript that may have been written during his study tour in the Netherlands,70 Nishi developed the following argument. He begins by observing that “the purpose of social life (aiseiyō no michi 相生養 之道) is for individuals to fulfill their needs and thus to fulfill their natures.” He then explains that these “needs” fall into two categories: material needs such as food, clothing, and shelter; and mental needs such as the aesthetic sense or the desire for leisure. Social life, or society, thus arises from the “nature” of human beings to seek fulfillment of their needs. From this basis, “families,” “bands,” “states,” and eventually “all the world’s nations” are also formed. And as nations are established, “it then becomes necessary to divide their labor.”71 Similarly, in the lectures he gave during the early Meiji years at his private school, Ikueisha, which were published as Hyakugaku renkan (Encyclopedia), Nishi defines “political economy” as “the study of national wealth and of the laws by which this wealth comes to be distributed, possessed, and consumed by individuals.” Having proposed this definition, he cites social life or society (aiseiyō no michi) as the fundamental condition for political economy as a theory, and continues:
I use the phrase aiseiyō no michi [literally, “the way of mutual livelihood”] to translate the word society… It would seem an impossibility for any individual to exist solely by himself. The beasts may eke out their solitary existences, but human beings cannot. People must always cooperate in order to secure their livelihood. This is why I call this way of life that requires mutual assistance aiseiyō no michi. Society implies a state of mankind prior to the formation of government, a life of community.72
Here we see his view and definition of society, which is clearly connected to that expressed in Vissering’s lectures on political economy. This is also apparent in Nishi’s comments on luxury: “The accumulation of luxury is something that occurs from the beginnings of the nation. Therefore, to arbi trarily impose restrictions upon it does nothing whatsoever to increase the national wealth; rather, it is a harmful obstruction in the path of civilization.” According to Nishi, “the proper role of government is to concern itself solely with laws, lawsuits, and judging between what is right and wrong, correct and incorrect.”73
70 Hasunuma Keisuke, “‘Kaidaimon’ no seiritsu jijō,” 573. 71 Nishi Amane, “Kaidaimon,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 219–220. 72 Nishi Amane, “Hyakugaku renkan,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 4, 249–250. 73 Ibid., 249–250.
In his “Tōei mondō” (Lamplight Dialogue) of 1870 (Meiji 3), Nishi character ized “the industry of the people” as “the way of life” and called for “freedom of industry” from government intervention, saying that “it is vitally important the people should be at liberty to engage in businesses as they please, and to free the routes for the circulation of money and credit.” He also argues that it is the fulfillment of individual needs and the pursuit of individual happiness that leads to prosperity for the nation as a whole:
What drives the people to engage in their individual trades and to be unstinting in their various labors is that they derive pleasure from them. The essence of government, as stated earlier, consists solely in estab lishing laws to judge what is right and wrong, correct and incorrect among the people.74
So we see that after his return to Japan, Nishi sought to realize an autonomous society, or aiseiyō no michi, rooted in the fulfillment of individual human needs and informed by the liberal economic thought that he had learned from Vissering—itself a product of nineteenth-century Dutch political culture and history. As we have seen, the term het maatschappelijk leven, or social life, was a key concept of the communal nature of mankind that ran through all of Vissering’s scholarly thought in the fields of law, political economy, and statistics. It was to translate this specific concept in Vissering’s five-course curriculum that both Nishi and Tsuda selected the phrase aiseiyō no michi, though they would also use it to render the English words society, or social life. Nishi’s translation of Vissering’s lectures on natural law, Seihō setsuyaku, contained a passage in which tomo ni aiseiyō su (engaging together in mutual livelihood) was employed to describe one of the aspects of human nature underlying the law. Similarly, in Taisei kokuhō ron, his translation of Vissering’s lectures on constitutional law, Tsuda used the expression aiseiyō no michi. And in Nishi’s Hyakuichi shinron (New Essay on the Unity of All Teachings), the aspects of human nature form ing the basis for a conception of rights and obligations are described as “the mind of self-interest and self-reliance” (jiai jiritsu no kokoro) and “the tendency toward mutual assistance and reciprocity” (aiseiyō no michi). The locus classicus for Nishi and Tsuda’s repeated use of this key term lies in the Tang-dynasty philosopher Han Yu’s Yuan dao and the Qing-dynasty scholar Dai Zhen’s Zhongyong buzhu (Supplementary Notes on the Zhongyong), the latter of which glosses the phrase 天命之謂性,率性之謂道 (What Heaven has
74 Nishi Amane, “Tōei mondō,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 259–262.
The way of humanity should not be discussed in terms of one person [alone], but instead must be discussed in terms of trillions of people uni fied together. Scrutinizing the present realm below heaven, who can stand alone, unrelated to society? Samurai, farmers, artisans, and mer chants all mutually assist one another and so are able to eat… Therefore, the ruler is one who can bring together trillions of people. If someone is able to have them attain their human nature toward mutual livelihood [shin’ai seiyō no sei 親愛生養之性], then [they are following] the way of the early kings.76
Perhaps we might see Nishi as attempting a re-reading of this passage of Sorai’s on human nature and mutual assistance in a manner that would deemphasize its class-consciousness and veneration of the way of the early kings, arriving instead at a more egalitarian conception of “society.” But even more impor tantly, we should appreciate how both Nishi and Tsuda adroitly utilized the vocabulary fostered by their own intellectual tradition—occasionally expand ing or redefining the conceptual tools it afforded them—to correctly under stand and assimilate the philosophy of the mutuality and interdependence of human social life that formed the subtext of Vissering’s five-course curriculum. It was through this intellectual struggle that they would come to positively assess and to adopt the “civilized” values embodied in European science.77 Nishi and Tsuda’s engagement with Vissering’s teachings on political econ omy had at least one expression as a concrete policy position, and that was their advocacy for free trade. We will look at this in greater detail in the next chapter in relation to Vissering’s lectures on international law, so I will deal with only one aspect of it here, exemplified by the publication in the Meiroku zasshi of an article by Tsuda entitled “Hogozei o hi to suru setsu” (In Opposition
75 Zhongyong, Chapter 1; translated into English by James Legge, The Doctrine of the Mean, in The Chinese Classics, vol 1, 247. 76 Sorai, Bendō, 17–18; translated into English by John Allen Tucker, 146. 77 The perspective differs from that presented here, but Koizumi Takashi, Nishi Amane to Ōbei shisō to no deai also contains an examination of the significance of aiseiyō no michi in Nishi Amane’s thought.
Now under recent conditions in our country, exports exceeded imports for several years after the opening of the ports, and imports exceeded exports for three or four years thereafter. I would judge that exports should also exceed imports for some years to come. Exports and imports thus will never lose their equilibrium, as they circulate in accordance with the laws of nature [shizen no tenritsu 自然の天律], never ceasing recurrently to rise and fall. Such being the case, civilization will progress with advancing technology.78
This argument for free trade on the basis of an equilibrium operating according to the laws of nature clearly had its theoretical grounding in Vissering’s lectures and might be said to be a practical political application of his teaching.
3 Mill’s Utilitarianism and the Deepening of Nishi Amane’s Political Philosophy
As we have seen, after their return to Japan, Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi engaged in a variety of scholarly activities in which they attempted to apply the principles that they had learned in Vissering’s lectures on political econ omy—his empirical methodology and vision of an autonomous political soci ety rooted in the pursuit of individual self-interest—to the reform of Japanese society. In addition to translating their notes from Vissering’s lectures into Japanese, they expanded their unique vision further into new areas of research, playing a leading role in the development of modern Japanese thought. In particular, Nishi is known for having coined the terms used in modern Japanese to translate several essential words and concepts, such as philosophy (tetsugaku 哲学). He carried on a serious engagement with Western philoso phy, including Auguste Comte’s positivism and the thought of John Stuart Mill. Perhaps the high point of this philosophical activity was Nishi’s essay “Jinsei sanpō setsu” (The Three Human Treasures), serialized in Meiroku zasshi begin ning in June 1875 (Meiji 8), which took Mill’s thought as its theoretical context.
78 Tsuda Mamichi, “Hogozei o hi to suru setsu” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 1, 174–175; Braisted, 58–59. The word rendered “enlightenment” in Braisted’s translation has been replaced here with “civilization.”
Moreover, this work was followed by a full-length translation of Mill’s Utilitarianism, which Nishi titled Rigaku, published in May 1877 (Meiji 10).79 These works did not take shape in complete isolation from Nishi’s experience of study abroad. In fact, in “Kaidaimon,” a text believed to have been written while Nishi was still in the Netherlands, he surveyed the current situation of Western philosophy and remarked upon the excellence of “positivism,” with its “solid evidence and clarity of exposition,” and on the importance of the phi losophy of John Stuart Mill, with its emphasis on “empirical methods” and “inductive techniques.”80 As we have already seen, Vissering’s Handboek made repeated reference to Mill’s economic theories. In a letter to Vissering in 1871 (Meiji 4), after his return to Japan, Nishi wrote “I have received much benefit from your lectures on the sciences of the state (staatswetenschappen),” and continued:
I think the history of the world has never seen a nation that has achieved so many reforms in such a brief period of time, modeled on European civilization: reforms related to everything from the form of government, lawmaking, and the military to popular culture and manners and cus toms. And yet to me all of them seem superficial (oppervlakkig).81
Nishi clearly saw the various policies and institutions implemented by the new government following the Meiji Restoration, and the changes in the manners and customs of the people in response, to be shallow and superficial imitations of European civilization. In an effort to resist these trends, and using his understanding of Vissering’s five-course curriculum as a guide, he sought to further his investigation into what the genuine essence of civilization actually was. How successful would Nishi be in this philosophical project? Would his effort to creatively interpret what he learned from Vissering—both in terms of the empirical scientific method and his perception of social life (aiseiyō no michi) as grounded in the pursuit of individual self-interest—lead to the open ing of any new philosophical vistas?
79 In 1995 the author had the opportunity to participate in a graduate seminar at Tokyo Metropolitan University under the direction of Professor Miyamura Haruo which closely examined Nishi’s Rigaku, J.S. Mill’s Utilitarianism, and Fukuzawa’s personal copy of the latter work. In the discussion that follows, I am indebted to that experience and to Professor Miyamura for his instruction. 80 Nishi Amane, “Kaidaimon,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 19–20. 81 Nishi Amane, letter to Simon Vissering, 15 December 1871, in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 201.
Opzoomer and Late-Nineteenth-Century Dutch Thought First let us examine the beginning of Nishi’s essay “Jinsei sanpō setsu” (The Three Human Treasures), serialized in Meiroku zasshi. This essay clearly shows that Nishi has Mill’s utilitarianism and its emphasis on what Nishi calls “the greatest happiness” uppermost in mind; and he states: “What I would now discuss here are the means for attaining this general happiness on the assump tion that it is the chief objective of mankind.” But the first paragraph in the essay also offers us a valuable hint concerning the influence on Nishi’s thought of his experience of study in the Netherlands. Nishi writes:
Moral teachings in European philosophy have passed through various changes since antiquity without yet reaching a common path. Even though older theories seem still to flourish, the emergence of “positivism” [jitsuriha 実理派] of the Frenchman Auguste Comte appears greatly to have changed the world’s outlook. And among the numerous theories of great thinkers that are ultimately based on positivism, John Stuart Mill’s expansion of [Jeremy] Bentham’s “utilitarianism” [rigaku 利学] seems to be the most revolutionary from the point of view of modern morality.
Nishi identifies these “older theories” as “the idealism of Fichte, Schilling and Hegel, or Kant’s theory of transcendental pure reason in the Koenigsberg phil osophical school,” and describes “utilitarianism” as “an extension of the ancient Greek school of Epicurus.” He then remarks,
When I traveled in Holland ten years ago, [C. W.] Opzoomer, then the great philosopher in the land, seemed to honor Comte, Whewell, and Mill.82
This passage tells us that that the origins of Nishi’s engagement with Comte’s positivism and Mill’s utilitarianism date back to the final years of the Tokugawa shogunate and his studies in the Netherlands. As noted in the Introduction, on the eve of his departure for Europe, Nishi mentioned “Descartes and Locke, Hegel, Kant, and others,” and declared, “I would like to master the field of knowledge known as philosophy.”83 What he encountered when he arrived in the Netherlands was a period in which the influence of Comte and Mill was at
82 Nishi Amane, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 3, 249–250; Braisted, 462. Braisted appears to misread the Japanese for Whewell as “Fourier.” 83 Nishi Amane, letter of 12 June 1863 to John Joseph Hoffmann, in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 177.
84 Willem Otterspeer, De wiekslag van hun geest, 227–232; Ernst Heinrich Kossman, The Low Countries, 259–263. 85 Cornelis Willem Opzoomer, De weg der wetenschap, viii. For a catalog of Nishi’s personal library, see “Nishi Amane isho mokuroku,” in the collection of the Kensei Shiryō Shitsu of the National Diet Library of Japan. During study in Leiden, Nishi and Tsuda obtained sundry knowledge of nineteenth- century Europe through books written not only by Vissering but also by such intellectuals as Opzoomer. For instance, Tsuda Mamichi also undertook the translation of Jeronimo de Bosch Kemper’s Handleiding tot de kennis van het Nederlandsche staatsregt en staats- bestuur, verkorte uitgave (Amsterdam, 1865), but it remained unfinished and was never published. See Ōkubo Takeharu, “Shohyō ronbun: Tsuda Mamichi zenshū, 2 vols.”
86 Cornelis Willem Opzoomer, De twijfel des tijds, 29. 87 Cornelis Willem Opzoomer, De weg der wetenschap, 24–26, 54–56. 88 Ibid., 27–39. 89 Nishi Amane, “Kaidaimon.” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 19–20. 90 Nishi Amane, Hyakuichi shinron, in ibid., 176.
Having established this, he says that “from ancient times in China and in our own country, this distinction” was never made. “Principles such as loyalty to one’s monarch or filial duty toward one’s parents were not seen in the least bit different from the principles causing the rain to fall or the sun to shine; all were spoken of in the same terms, as the nature of things, or principles of nature.”91 Nishi then mounts a critique of the Neo-Confucian concept of ri 理(principle) and this failure to discriminate between physical principles (butsuri 物理) and mental principles (shinri 心理). By making a clear distinction between a priori and a posteriori, Nishi attempts to redefine the Neo-Confucian concept of ri (principle, reason, truth). Nishi’s reading of Lewes to understand the concepts of psychology (seirigaku 性理学) and physiology (seirigaku 生理学) within Comte’s positivism, and his explanation of the science of mental philosophy, drawing on Haven’s work, were extensions of this effort. Nishi took up the notion of kakubutsu chichi in the preface to his original work Chichi keimō (Logic and Enlightenment), a book whose subject was “logic in Europe.” In this work, he notes that he has selected the kanji chichi (致知; literally, “extension of knowledge”) to translate the word “logic.” He goes on to say that the scholarly method known in the Zhu Xi school as kakubutsu chichi emphasized “the investigation of things” prior to the attainment and extension of knowledge, and that the process of arriving at the truth of knowledge required the intervention of a kind of intuitive leap (katsuzen kantsū 豁然貫 通). In contrast to this, Nishi attempts a transformational re-reading and repur posing of chichi into logic as the “elementary science.” Then, at the end of Chichi keimō, Nishi introduces “inductive” (kinō 帰納) reasoning as a new method in logic for the investigation of both physical and mental principles.92 In this way, Nishi proposes a “science of truth and genuine principles” (jit- surigaku 実理学), an empirical “science of reality, based on the five senses” that is not befuddled by false beliefs. Nishi’s engagement with Mill’s utilitarianism was also an extension of his quest for “truth and genuine principles” (jitsuri 実理) or “philosophical princi ples” (tetsuri 哲理) grounded in empiricism. In the preface to Rigaku (利学), his translation of Mill’s Utilitarianism, he explained “the original title of this work is Utilitarianism, a name for a moral teaching that makes utility its founding principle.” Then he gave his own interpretation of European philosophy:
With regard to the terms used in this book, philosophy means European Confucianism [Ōshū jugaku 欧洲儒学]. I will translate it tetsugaku 哲学,
91 Ibid., 276. 92 Nishi Amane, Chichi keimō, in ibid., 448–450.
thus distinguishing it from Oriental Confucianism [Tōhō jugaku 東方儒学]. The root of the European word philosophy is in the Greek language, in which philos means “to seek” and sophia means “wisdom,” so that the word as a whole means “to seek the virtue of wisdom.” This resembles Zhou Maoshu’s definition of the scholar-gentleman [shi] as one who quests for wisdom.93
Of course by “European Confucianism,” Nishi does not mean European study of Confucianism, but European philosophy as a whole. By deliberately casting the European philosophical tradition as “European Confucianism” Nishi was attempting to emphasize the commonality between it and the Confucian tra dition. Having established this, Nishi then re-enlists one of the founders of Song Neo-Confucian thought, Zhou Maoshu, to help explain that while European philosophy has similar ends (i.e. the quest for wisdom) it requires a different term, tetsugaku, to distinguish it from Oriental Confucianism. According to Nishi, the physical sciences saw remarkable advances with Galileo and Newton, but the metaphysical sciences have not kept pace. However, “in recent years Auguste Comte has appeared, proclaiming the phi losophy of positivism, which seeks a true positive principle unifying both the physical and metaphysical sciences,” and “works such as Mill’s A System of Logic have provided methods for the study of truth and general principles, opening new possibilities for the establishment of the empirical sciences.”94 Nishi then proposes a classification in which logic is a science of the intel lect (chi 知); aesthetics is a science of the feelings (jō 情); and morals are a sci ence of the will (i 意), and says “this book deals with the foundations of morals, which is placed in the realm of philosophy (tetsugaku 哲学).”95 He then defines utilitarianism (rigaku 利学) as a “moral science” rooted in psychology (sei- rigaku 性理学) and its inquiry into “human nature.”96
93 John Stuart Mill, Utilitarianism; translated by Nishi Amane, Rigaku, vol. 1, “Setsu,” 4–chō–ura. 94 Nishi, Rigaku, vol. 1, 5–chō–ura. 95 Ibid., 6-chō-omote-ura. 96 In Chapter 1 of Rigaku, in which the basic principles of utilitarianism are addressed, Nishi translates Mill’s assertion of “the necessity of general law” with the phrase banshu ni tsūzuru ichi rihō 万殊に通するの一理法), the terminology of which has a distinctly Neo-Confucian flavor. Nishi seems to acknowledge this in the marginal note he appends to the text at this point, which says that the term rihō that he uses to translate law resem bles the tenri or “heavenly principle” spoken of by Confucian scholars「理法、亦之を天 律と謂う。儒家天理と称するは、また略其の趣きを同す」. Mill, Utilitarianism, 3–7; Nishi, Rigaku, vol. 1, 4-chō-omote.
In the Netherlands in the late nineteenth century, where empiricist tenden cies were at their peak, Nishi came into contact with Comte’s positivism and Mill’s inductive logic as sciences for the exploration of truth and general prin ciples. After returning to Japan, he would begin to redefine this in terms of a “science of principle” that would investigate both “European” and “Oriental” philosophy according to universal law and principle. Thus, Nishi’s efforts to radically redefine Confucianism, or Oriental philosophy, in terms of the achievements of the cutting-edge European philosophy of his day, with its uti lization of empirical research to elucidate human nature, eventually led him to embrace Mill’s utilitarianism.97
Definition of an Ethics Based on Philosophical Principles and Social Life In his encounter with utilitarianism, Nishi recognized it as a philosophy based on the universal principle (ri 理) of human nature, and translated it as rigaku 利学, or the science of utility. The compound word rigaku 利学 consists of two elements: ri 利, meaning utility, interest, benefit or profit; and gaku 学, mean ing science, study, or learning. In this way, Nishi attempted to construe the pursuit of ri 利 (utility, interest, benefit, profit) as an aspect of human social life grounded in the universal principle (ri 理)of human nature. But how did Nishi understand this core concept of ri 利 and what new discourses on morality, political society, law, and rights did he develop on the basis of its philosophical principles (tetsuri 哲理)? In his essay on “Jinsei sanpō setsu” (The Three Human Treasures), after hav ing established the fundamental utilitarian notion of “the most great happi ness,” Nishi focuses his discussion on the three concepts of health (mame 健康), wisdom (chie 知識), and wealth (tomi 富有), which he regards as “innate virtues.” He then introduces “three great rules” of morality related to them, in what he calls both negative and positive stipulations. The negative stipulations are: “Thou shalt not injure the health of others; thou shalt not injure the knowl edge of others; and thou shalt not injure the wealth of others.” The positive stipulations are similarly: “Thou shalt promote the health [/knowledge/wealth] of others, if this should be done with thy assistance.” For Nishi, these two for mulations have different outcomes: “The three negative stipulations constitute
97 On the other hand, in works such as August Comte and Positivism (1865), Mill was openly critical of Comte, and we should not be too quick to see Mill’s philosophy as an extension of Comte’s positivism. The question of the degree to which Nishi was aware of the differ ences between these two thinkers, and of Mill’s rejection of Comte’s “Religion of Humanity,” is one that bears further examination.
Rōro [Sakatani’s pen name] says, people have long struggled to judge between King Hui of Liang’s interest in benefit for his kingdom and Mencius’s interest in benevolence and righteousness. However, if you will but read this chapter, all doubts will melt away.101
As Sakatani’s note indicates, the arrival of utilitarian thought in early Meiji Japan almost inevitably necessitated the revisiting of a debate that had been carried on since antiquity within the Confucian tradition concerning how one should “discriminate between gi 義 (Chinese, yi) and ri 利 (Ch., li)” (giri no ben 義利の弁), where gi 義 signifies what is usually translated into English as righteousness or justice, while ri 利, as above, refers to utility, interest, benefit, or profit. How was one to think about the relationship between the two? In his com mentary on Mencius (Sakatani’s note is based on its opening chapter), Zhu Xi, founder of Neo-Confucianism in the twelfth century, explained that gi 義 is rooted in what is intrinsic to the human mind and constitutes the general prin ciple of heaven (tenri no kō 天理の公). On the other hand, ri 利 is rooted in the desire to gain some benefit from the standpoint of utility, and signifies self- interest, or selfishness.102 Thus, in Neo-Confucianism, righteousness or justice
98 Nishi Amane, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 3, 273–280; Braisted, 475–476. 99 Nishi, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” 272; Braisted, 463. 100 Nishi, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” 362; Braisted, 516. 101 Mill, Utilitarianism; Nishi, Rigaku, vol. 1, 32-chō-omote-ura. 102 Zhu Xi, Mengzi jizhu, in Sishu zhangju jizhu, 202.
People say that the King of the Netherlands engages in trade, and burst into laughter. But everyone buys and sells things. The buying and selling of things is the principle of the world. There is nothing at all laughable in this.106
Nishi Amane’s embrace of utilitarianism took place against the backdrop of this longstanding debate.107 While acknowledging the Confucian discourse on “discriminating between gi 義 and ri 利,” Nishi took an opposing stance to the conventional wisdom of his day that valued “humility, generosity, modesty,
103 Ogyū Sorai, Rongochō, 515–516. “子曰、君子喩於義、小人喩於利.” 104 Ibid., 516. 105 Kaiho Seiryō, Keikodan, 15. On the thought of Kaiho Seiryō, see Miyamura Haruo, Shintei Nihon seiji shisōshi, Chapter 9; Watanabe Hiroshi, Nihon seiji shisōshi: 17–19 seiki, translated into English by David Noble, A History of Japanese Political Thought: 1600–1901, chapter 14; Hiraishi Naoaki, “Kaiho Seiryō no shisō zō.” 106 Kaiho Seiryō, Keikodan, 22–23. 107 For previous research on gi, ri and utilitarianism in Tokugawa and Meiji thought, see Miyamura, Shintei Nihon seiji shisōshi; Anzai Toshizō, Fukuzawa Yukichi to Seiō shisō, Chapter 3; Sugawara Hikaru, Nishi Amane no seiji shisō, Chapter 3.
108 In an essay on “Desire” in Meiroku zasshi, no. 34 (1875), Tsuda Mamichi proclaimed the positive value of desire, beginning his discussion by stating, “As our most important innate quality, desire is the basis of human existence.” He criticized the Confucian—and particularly the Neo-Confucian—position on this subject, as follows: “The teachings of the Confucians, however, only preached human-heartedness with out investigating studies of political economy. That the East Asian countries have all been impoverished without achieving prosperity and that their people generally lack bodily welfare may be attributed to the fact that the Confucian teachings were without validity. We may also scoff at the scholars of the Chu Hsi school who adopted the view that human desire and Heaven’s Reason [tenri, 天理, heavenly principle] were mutu ally incompatible. How can they say that human desire is contrary to Heaven’s Reason?” (Meiroku Zasshi, vol. 3, 168; Braisted, 423.) If we remember that Tsuda was also deeply acquainted with Kokugaku (National Learning), this criticism may also be related to that tradition, as expressed by Motoori Norinaga: “Moreover, it is a mistake to attribute the heart that deviates from the Way to human desire and to despise it. For without human desire, how and why would we come into being? If we come into being for a legitimate reason, then is not human desire itself a heavenly principle(tenri, 天理)?” (Motoori Norinaga, Naobi no mitama, in Motoori Norinaga zenshū, vol. 9, 60.) 109 Mill, Utilitarianism; Nishi, Rigaku, vol. 1, “Setsu,” 8-chō-omote.
This is because, looked at philosophically, fraternal social life is invariably mutually cultivated and an urgent necessity in the human world before government has yet been established. Now, fraternal social life [aiseiyō no michi] is extremely broad and extremely active in the civilized countries. Upon this active social life depends their strength and their prosperity, their peace and their turbulence, the emergence of industry and progress in scholarship. It may well be said that what men call government only presides impassively over the community.110
In the civilized nations, this “fraternal social life” (aiseiyō no michi) that arises even “before government has yet been established” is extremely active—in fact, it is this very activity upon which civilization itself is founded. National strength and wealth, the development of the sciences, and even order and dis order all depend upon the conditions of social life. Because of this, it is the role of the government to “attain the goal of protecting all of the three treasures.”111
110 Nishi Amane, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 3, 298; Braisted, 486. The word rendered “enlightened” in Braisted’s translation has been replaced here with “civilized.” 111 Nishi, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 534. “Jinsei sanpō setsu” was seri alized in Meiroku zasshi, but because publication of the magazine ceased with its 43rd
Moreover, at this juncture Nishi also undertakes a critical reconsideration of the Five Relations that, as we saw in the introduction, constituted the moral core of human interaction in the Confucian tradition: affection and love between father and son; just and proper relations between ruler and vassal, or monarch and subject; differentiation of roles between husband and wife; rec ognition of precedence between elder and younger; honesty and trust between friends. In Hyakuichi shinron, Nishi had criticized the Confucian conception of the “just and proper relations between ruler and vassal, or monarch and sub ject” (kunshin no gi) as an a priori principle. From a similar perspective, in “Jinsei sanpō setsu” he also argues that it is “the equal relationship of trust between friends” (heikō tōhai naru hōyū no rin 平行等輩なる朋友の倫) which is the fundamental principle of all social ethics and the basis of all legal rights and duties.112 According to him, along with the natural tendency to seek pri vate interest, what supports social life is the social nature of mankind and our social feelings.113 Humans are social beings equipped with a “social nature” and it is impossible for them to live in isolation. Therefore, even while they value the three treasures and seek to expand their own interests, they establish social intercourse and methods for dividing labor.114 As a result of the division of labor, any person who engages in work becomes a partner in social intercourse. While their professions and functions may differ, all people, as individuals, are equal members of society and value the three human treasures.
Social intercourse, therefore, is like links in a chain or beads in a rosary. If you compare the individual links and beads, they are all equally parts of the chain or rosary even though they may vary in size… It is the nature of social intercourse, therefore, that, should a single individual in the least neglect or injure the three treasures, the bad consequences inevitably extend to the whole of social intercourse.115
Conversely, since individuals are all valuable as constituent members of soci ety, the more they honor and work to increase the three treasures as individu als, the more social life and social intercourse are invigorated and the public
issue, only the first four parts were published. Parts 5–8 of the essay were later published in Gūhyō: Nishi sensei ronshū, edited by Kayō Hōzō with commentary by Doi Kōka, pub lished in 1880. Even so, the essay was never completed as Nishi had originally intended. The text used in this book is the one contained in Nishi Amane zenshū. 112 Nishi, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 550–554. 113 Nishi, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 3, 299–300; Braisted, 487. 114 Nishi, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 3, 359; Braisted, 515. 115 Nishi, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 3, 304; Braisted, 489.
Therefore, it is a truism that, since honoring the three treasures is the foundation of social intercourse, the more the three treasures are hon ored, the more social intercourse expands and prospers.116
We have already seen that “social life” (aiseiyō no michi) emerged as a key concept in the effort by Nishi and Tsuda to understand and master Vissering’s five-course curriculum. Through the lectures on statistics and political econ omy, they discovered this social life as the autonomous functioning of civilized societies, rooted in the division of labor and individual pursuit of private interest. Meanwhile, in the lectures on constitutional law, they learned that the proper role of the state was to protect the rights and security of the people and to extend social intercourse so as to promote the welfare of the entire nation. In “Jinsei sanpō setsu” (The Three Human Treasures), Nishi has some impor tant observations to make regarding the role of the state and government.117 He describes “the government” as merely “a type of association (kaisha 会社) within social life” and defines its raison d’être as being to “protect the three treasures.” He then introduces “Montesquieu’s theory of the tripartite separa tion of powers” as the “key to monarch and people mutually regulating and preventing one another’s arbitrary behavior.” He classifies the functions of gov ernment into four categories. The first is concerned with “internal legal duties” having to do with the maintenance of domestic peace and order, including population registers, police, sanitation, civil and criminal courts, and so on. The second is concerned with “external legal duties” such as diplomacy and the military defense. The third is “the government’s duties pursuant to protecting its own three treasures,” i.e. matters such as the selection, appointment, and dismissal of government officials. The fourth is the government’s duties regard ing leadership in encouragement of agriculture and industry, education, com merce, currency administration, etc. For Nishi, the first two items were the most essential of the duties of govern ment. To neglect them in favor of the third item—preserving and improving the livelihood of government officials—was simply wrong. And even with regard to the fourth item, excessive government involvement in industry,
116 Nishi, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 3, 302; Braisted, 487–488. 117 Nishi, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 533–549.
118 Nishi, “Jinsei sanpō setsu,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 537. 119 Vissering, Handboek van praktische staathuishoudkunde, deel 2, 6. 120 Mill, Utilitarianism, 47; Nishi, Rigaku, vol. 1, 62-chō-omote-ura. 121 Mill, Utilitarianism, 16; Nishi, Rigaku, vol. 1, 21-chō-ura.
Not only does all strengthening of social ties, and all healthy growth of society, give to each individual a stronger personal interest in practically consulting the welfare of others; it also leads him to identify his feelings more and more with their good, or at least with an ever greater degree of practical consideration for it.122
Nishi’s vision of civilized society, in which the vitalization of social life creates “successive generations of progress” took as its original model Vissering’s five-part curriculum and the aspects of contemporary Dutch scholarship that Nishi experienced at first hand during his sojourn in the Netherlands. He became convinced that an autonomous social life was formed on the basis of human instinct for both self-interest and sociability mediated through a division of labor of individuals pursuing their private interests in relations of essential equality. The personal pursuit of self-interest based on individual needs gave rise to productive work and a division of labor that would eventuate in an expansion of the public welfare. According to him, autonomous social life and intercourse are formed “before government has yet been established,” and this is what provides the true motive force for civiliza tion. The discussion of social life in “The Three Human Treasures,” with the assistance of Mill’s utilitarianism, provides this concept with a new foundation more firmly rooted in meticulously defined “philosophical principles” of “human nature.”
Utility and Justice: Philosophical Principles of Rights and Law On the other hand, of course, there were also discordant elements between Mill’s utilitarianism and Vissering’s lectures. Nishi’s embrace of Mill simultane ously included a process of critically reassessing Vissering’s lectures. Of par ticular interest in this regard is the fifth chapter of Utilitarianism, in which Mill analyses “the connection between justice and utility.” In the preface to his
122 Mill, Utilitarianism, 47; Nishi, Rigaku, vol. 1, 63-chō-omote.
The sentiment of justice, in that one of its elements which consists of the desire to punish, is thus, I conceive, the natural feeling of retaliation or vengeance, rendered by intellect and sympathy applicable to those inju ries, that is, to those hurts, which wound us through, or in common with, society at large.125
123 Mill, Utilitarianism; Nishi, Rigaku, vol. 1, “Setsu,” 4-chō-omote. 124 Mill, Utilitarianism, 62–96. 125 Mill, Utilitarianism, 77; Nishi, Rigaku, vol. 2, 34-chō-ura.
In other words, people come to perceive issues as involving the norms of society as a whole and not merely personal injuries or resentments, and thus the notion of justice is formed.
And the sentiment of justice appears to me to be, the animal desire to repel or retaliate a hurt or damage to oneself, or to those with whom one sympathizes, widened so as to include all persons, by the human capacity of enlarged sympathy, and the human conception of intelligent self- interest. From the latter elements, the feeling derives its morality; from the former, its peculiar impressiveness, and energy of self-assertion.126
One form in which this awareness of justice is manifested is in the idea of a “right” (kenri 権利). According to Mill, “when we call anything a person’s right, we mean that he has a valid claim on society to protect him in the possession of it.” Because of this, the protection of rights is directly connected to the defense of general social utility and security. The reason that justice is per ceived as distinct from morality in general and possessed of a unique character is because it concerns “the essentials of human well-being” more directly than any other aspect of morality.127 Nishi himself defined the theme of Mill’s fifth chapter as dealing with utility as the origin of law, and the contrast here between a more tolerant and gener ous morality and the concept of justice, with its obligations and correlative rights, overlaps to a certain extent with the distinction that Nishi made between morality and law in “The Three Human Treasures” when he wrote of his three great negative and positive stipulations. At this point in Mill’s and Nishi’s argument, both “justice” and “rights” are demonstrated to be grounded in the principle of utility. Thus, the concept of rights (kenri 権利) is based on the Greatest Happiness Principle, and “justice” (seigi 正義, gi 義) aims for a conjunction with “utility” (ri 利). Guided by Mill’s utilitarianism, Nishi strove to open up new vistas for an intellectual discourse seeking a fusion of the princi ples of gi 義 (justice) and ri 利(utility). Then, this line of reasoning enabled Nishi to discern the critique of natural law embodied in Mill’s treatment of justice and rights, saying in his preface that Mill refutes the theory of natural law. Later, he would consistently draw attention to the significance of this argument, and actively attempt to incorporate it into his unpublished (and never completed) manuscript “Genpō teikō” (Essentials on the Principle of Law). This manuscript treats a variety of
126 Mill, Utilitarianism, 79; Nishi, Rigaku, vol. 2, 37-chō-omote-ura. 127 Mill, Utilitarianism, 95.
Thus, if asked, “Are law and human nature mutually contradictory,” I must answer, “No, within human nature there is the source of establish ing and obeying laws, just as a tree contains within itself the potential of being used as the material for building houses.”129
According to Nishi, wood cannot build houses by itself, but wood has a poten tial to be used for building houses. What exactly does Nishi mean by this “fun damental aspect of human nature that establishes and obeys laws”?
I would say to you that all living beings, of whatever kind, love their lives and abhor death, and that this is their nature (sei 性). Moreover, all beings desire pleasure and dislike pain and suffering. Thus those things which cause pleasure and pain are also natural principles (ri no tōzen 理の自然).130
Part of “human nature” is the “instinct of self-interest” (jiai no yoku 自愛の欲) grounded in the sensations of “pain and pleasure.” It is precisely “adverse con ditions,” in which our possessions or interests are harmed and the desire for retaliation is inspired, that give rise to the consciousness of “rights” grounded in the “nature of self-interest” (jiai no sei 自愛の性). This is also “the origin of law” (hō no moto 法の原). Moreover, this instinct of self-interest and self- preservation, when it “arouses the sentiment of sympathy” (dōkan no jō 同感の情) that is also an element of human nature, causes “me to naturally attempt to come to the aid of someone who has suffered an injustice.”131 In other words, the nature of self-interest and self-preservation and the sentiment of sympa thy function together to produce a normative consciousness that transcends the simple desire for personal vengeance, “and precisely because I recognize
128 Nishi Amane, “Genpō teikō,” in Nishi Amane zenshū 2: 150–155. 129 Ibid., 146. For a previous study of “Genpō teikō,” see Richard H. Minear, “Nishi Amane and the Reception of Western Law in Japan”; Koizumi Takashi, “‘Genpō teikō’ ni okeru Nishi Amane no kenri shisō.” The English translation of this passage is based on Minear, 915. 130 Ibid., 146. 131 Ibid., 156.
132 Ibid., 157. 133 Ibid., 157.
The Search for the Universal Principle In this chapter we have analyzed the characteristics of Vissering’s lectures on political economy and seen how Nishi in particular, after returning to Japan, engaged in a conscious effort to reevaluate what he had learned and deepen his philosophical inquiry, eventually arriving at a serious engagement with the utilitarianism of John Stuart Mill. As noted earlier, in a letter to Vissering in 1871 (Meiji 4), after his return from the Netherlands, Nishi wrote that he had “received much benefit from your lectures on the sciences of state (staatswetenschappen),” but bemoaned the state of contemporary Japanese political society as “superficial” imitation of European civilization.134 In later life, Nishi would address this problem in the following manner:
Today’s so-called sciences, imported from Europe, have scarcely had suf ficient time, compared with the scholarship from China of yore, even to engage in copying and imitation—much less to aim at charting their own independent direction and originality. Yet when we simply engage in imi tation without seeking the universally consistent principle [gaitsū ikkan no ri 概通一貫の理], taking things up willy-nilly and devoid of a philo sophical perspective, the result can be a fine front with nothing inside,
134 Nishi Amane, letter to Simon Vissering, 15 December 1871, in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 201.
insufficiently practiced to be of real utility. Thus even what we are calling Western science may not escape becoming something worse than useless.135
Nishi’s scholarly activity as a philosopher in the years after the Meiji Restoration arose out of his desire to warn against attitudes encouraging uncritical whole sale importation and imitation of European laws, institutions, and sciences. He searched instead for the universally consistent principle of human society that could serve to guide genuine social reform. Nishi’s perspective on this universal principle was nurtured by his experi ence of the robust state of empirical studies in the Netherlands during his time there: he learned much from Vissering’s sociological approach to statistics, using large-scale samples to derive natural laws, and from Opzoomer’s philo sophical thought. Nishi was acutely perceptive in sensing the trends in European thought that were eroding the formerly self-evident foundations of natural law theory and its depiction of law and rights as a priori normative principles. As a result, he embraced Comte’s positivism and the philosophy of Mill as new discourses on human nature and society that sought to explicate human activity through observation and experimentation, proposing new standards for the verification of knowledge. Critical of the inability of Japanese politics to transcend imitation, in the Meiji period Nishi would take what he had learned from Vissering about the communal life of civilized society and attempt to ground it—and explicate it—according to more fundamental and generally consistent principles. In this quest to deepen his analysis of human nature (sei 性), Nishi would also reexamine the understanding of man and society upon which Confucianism—seen as synonymous with Oriental phi losophy—was predicated, and attach new meaning to traditional terms such as ri 理, ri 利, and aiseiyō no michi 相生養の道, employing them to envision a reform of social life by the people themselves. What this eventually led him to was his intellectual struggle with utilitarianism as the leading philosophy— the “European Confucianism”—of his day, and a quest to apply the philosophi cal perspectives and principles it defined to a discovery of the fundamental scientific laws (kiso no rihō 基礎の理法) inherent in human society. Of course it goes without saying that the entirety of Nishi’s engagement with Mill’s utilitarianism cannot be reduced to his experience of study in the Netherlands. There were multiple strata of scholarly activities and accumulated knowledge at work, from Nishi’s assimilation of other Western
135 Nishi Amane, “Gakumon wa engen o fukaku suru ni aru no ron,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 1, 571–572.
1 International Law and the Opening of Japan
This chapter will examine the lectures on international law that formed the core of Vissering’s five-course curriculum, building on our prior consideration of the lectures on natural and constitutional law in Chapter 1, on statistics in Chapter 2, and on political economy in Chapter 3. This will enable us to com- plete our portrayal of the experience of Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi dur- ing their years of study in the Netherlands and will provide an opportunity for further reflection on the significance of the reception of European interna- tional law for the history of political thought in modern Japan. There has been a considerable amount of research indicating the profound influence of the “Western impact” on the international order and worldview of nineteenth-century Asia.1 In East Asia, international relations were tradition- ally conducted in the context of what has been termed a “tribute system” cen- tered on the imperial Chinese court. With the founding of the Joseon dynasty at the end of the fourteenth century, Korea accepted its status as a vassal state of Ming-dynasty China. Even after the Qing replaced the Ming as rulers of the Chinese empire, Korea continued to acknowledge the suzerainty of China, upholding this basic pattern of international relations until the late nineteenth century. Tokugawa Japan, however, occupied a somewhat anomalous position within this order. While generally prohibiting maritime travel to or from Japan, Japan under the Tokugawa shogunate did carry on limited trading relations with the Chinese, the Dutch, the Koreans, the Ryukyuans, and the Ainu peoples. But Tokugawa Japan did not enter into a relationship of vassalage or tribute with imperial China, and so there were no official diplomatic relations between the two countries. “Neighborly relations” (kōrin 交隣) were maintained with
1 For changes in the East Asian international order in the nineteenth century and the transfor- mation of Japanese foreign policy and consciousness of the outside world, see Michael R. Auslin, Negotiating with Imperialism; John Owen Haley, Authority without Power; Mitani Hiroshi, Meiji ishin to nationalism and Perry raikō, translated into English by David Noble as Escape from Impasse; Hamashita Takeshi, Chōkō system to kindai Asia; Arano Yasunori, Kinsei Nihon to Higashi Asia; Okamoto Takashi, Zokkoku to jishu no aida; Sato Seizaburō, “Shi no choyaku” o koete; Matsuda Kōichirō, Edo no chishiki kara Meiji no seiji e; Fujita Satoru, Kinsei kōki seijishi to taigai kankei; Makabe Jin, Tokugawa kōki no gakumon to seiji.
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Korea, but this remained a separate and strictly bilateral relationship. Thus, by the mid-nineteenth century, several different images of the international order existed simultaneously in Japan. The Chinese vision of a world order organized around a civilized center expanding outward to a barbarian periphery had become widely accepted along with the Confucian teachings that provided its foundation. On the other hand, some Japanese Confucians and kokugakusha (Japanese classical scholars) like Motoori Norinaga defined Japan itself (honchō 本朝) as the center of this order rather than China. And further com- plicating the Japanese perception of the outside world during this period was the vision offered by scholars of Dutch studies such as Sugita Genpaku, who, as we saw in the Introduction, insisted that the Earth is a gigantic globe over which the myriad countries are distributed, and criticized a China- or Japan- centered view of the world. After the beginning of the nineteenth century, however, and especially fol- lowing the arrival of Perry and his squadron of warships, the situation changed dramatically. The opening of Japan was a political event that shook the very foundations of both traditional diplomacy and domestic rule; it was also a major event in intellectual history, an encounter between two inherently differ- ent civilizations.2 The work of Watanabe Hiroshi has demonstrated that in the course of treaty negotiations, both Japan and the Western powers confronted the philosophical question of whether or not the opening of the country accorded with the principles of reason (dōri 道理). According to Watanabe, the opening of Japan did not take place merely under the threat of military force wielded by the Western envoys. Besides, for the Japanese side, “the opening was not . . . simply a humiliating capitulation to the threat of superior military force. In at least some sense, Tokugawa Japan had freely decided on the basis of universal principles to open itself to the modern West.” As an “extreme exam- ple” of this, Watanabe cites Yokoi Shōnan’s impassioned call for the discovery of “principles common throughout the world” (zensekai no dōri 全世界之道理) through “debate by the entire globe” (chikyūjō no zenron 地球上之全論).3 Thus, the issues of the opening of the country and signing treaties with the Western powers radically destabilized both foreign and domestic affairs. With the principles of reason underlying their entire world being called into
2 On kaikoku as political and intellectual history, see Maruyama Masao, “Kaikoku”; Matsuzawa Hiroaki, Kindai Nihon no keisei to Seiyō keiken; Miyamura Haruo, Kaikoku keiken no shisōshi; Hiraishi Naoaki, Nihon seiji shisōshi; Watanabe Hiroshi, Nihon seiji shisōshi: 17–19 seiki, trans- lated into English by David Noble as A History of Japanese Political Thought: 1600–1901, espe- cially Chapter 18. 3 Watanabe Hiroshi, “Shisō mondai toshite no ‘kaikoku’”; Nihon seiji shisōshi: 17–19 seiki, 363–381, translated by David Noble, 333–351.
4 The precise original date of publication for Wanguo gongfa (J. Bankoku kōhō), William Alexander Martin’s translation into Chinese of Henry Wheaton’s Elements of International Law, is uncertain. Some sources argue for November 1864, while others say January 1865. Satō Shin’ichi, Kindai Chūgoku no chishikijin to bunmei, 61; Kawashima Shin, “Chūgoku ni okeru ‘Bankoku kōhō’ jūyō to tekiyō”; Banno Masataka, Kindai Chūgoku seiji gaikōshi, 279. 5 Hozumi Nobushige, Hōsō yawa, 182. Fundamentally, the phrase bankoku kōhō derives from the translation of Wheaton’s Elements of International Law. For this reason, we have consis- tently translated bankoku kōhō as “international law.” But it should be clearly noted that this phrase, like Vissering’s volkenregt also had a connotation quite close to the phrase of “the law of nations.”
According to one modern historian, this Chinese translation of Wheaton proposed “an image of a universal system of legal norms which regulate rela- tions among states within international society, and which existed as givens, like the natural order.”6 This idea exerted an enormous influence on shaping the perceptions of international law in all of late nineteenth-century East Asia, and consequently has been the subject of considerable research.7 As later legal scholars have pointed out, the translator Martin used Chinese terms to trans- late Wheaton’s discussion of natural law, such as 性法 (J., seihō), 天法 (J., tenpō), 天理 (J., tenri), 自然之法 (J., shizen no hō), that conveyed the meaning of natu- ral law or heavenly principle and gave the text a strongly Confucian flavor. Therefore in Japan, bankoku kōhō (international law) was interpreted in light of the core Confucian concept of “the way” (道), as expressed in teachings such as, “What Heaven (天) has conferred is called the nature (性) ; an accor- dance with this nature is called the path (道, way) of duty.8” In this fashion, it could be understood as “the common way of heaven and earth” (tenchi no kōdō 天地の公道), founded upon the universal moral norms of a priori “natural prin- ciple and law” (tenchi shizen no rihō 天地自然の理法).9 This perception of the issues involved with international law had many elements that overlapped with the philosophical debate over whether the opening of Japan was an action that genuinely accorded with reason and justice. According to historian Osatake Takeki, the phrase bankoku kōhō would gradually come to be under- stood as “signifying pure reason and principle, common to all nations” (bankoku ni tsūzuru junri 万国に通ずる純理).10 There was, however, another book entitled Bankoku kōhō 『万国公法』 pub- lished at the end of the Tokugawa period: Nishi Amane’s translation of the
6 Satō, Kindai Chūgoku no chishikijin to bunmei, 46. 7 For studies of the adoption of international law in Japan focusing on Martin’s translation of Wheaton, see Osatake Takeki, Ishin zen’ya ni okeru rikken shisō, Kinsei Nihon no kokusai kannen no hattatsu and Bankoku kōhō to Meiji ishin; Yoshino Sakuzō, “Wagakuni kindaishi ni okeru seiji ishiki no hassei”; Sumiyoshi Yoshihito, “Seiō kokusai hōgaku no Nihon e no inyū to sono tenkai”; Inoue Katsuo, “Bankoku kōhō (bunken kaidai)”; Zhang Jianing, “Kai setsu: Bankoku kōhō seiritsu jijō to honyaku mondai,” and “Bankoku kōhō (bunken kaidai).” For an excellent recent assessment, from a pragmatic point of view, of the reception of international law in early Meiji Japan, see Kinji Akashi, “Japanese ‘Acceptance’ of the European Law of Nations.” 8 Zhongyong, Chapter 1; translated into English by James Legge, The Doctrine of the Mean, in The Chinese Classics, vol 1, 247. 9 Osatake, Bankoku kōhō to Meij ishin, 7–8; Yoshino, “Wagakuni kindaishi ni okeru seiji ishiki no hassei,” 264–267. 10 Osatake, Ishin zengo ni okeru rikken shisō, 354.
11 However, both the official and the commercial editions appear to have been published without Nishi’s approval. See “Kaidai,” Nishi Amane zenshū 2: 638–698. The version of the text used here is the one printed in Nishi Amane zenshū 2. 12 Yoshino, “Wagakuni kindaishi ni okeru seiji ishiki no hassei,” 268. 13 Taoka Ryōichi, “Nishi Shūsuke Bankoku kōhō,” 51. 14 Ibid., 13–25. 15 Ibid., 29–34.
2 The Place of International Law in Vissering’s Curriculum: Law, Civilization, Practice
Nishi Amane’s translation of Vissering’s lectures on international law as Bankoku kōhō, along with Tsuda’s translation of the lectures on national law as Taisei kokuhō ron, were the earliest translations the two scholars made of the extensive notes they had taken from the lectures comprising Vissering’s five- course curriculum. From this we can sense how critically urgent a task it was for the Tokugawa shogunate to acquire a greater understanding of interna- tional law. From the beginning of their overseas studies, Nishi and Tsuda also evinced a keen interest in the field of “diplomacy” as one “that could prove efficacious, not only in terms of Japan’s relations with the countries of Europe, but as essential to the improvement of many aspects of our domestic government and institutions”—as we saw in our examination of the letter Nishi sent to the Netherlands proposing the goals of their study tour.16 The historical record also
16 Nishi Amane, letter of 12 June 1863 to John Joseph Hoffmann, in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 177.
17 Tokyo Daigaku Shiryō Hensanjo, ed., Dai Nihon komonjo bakumatsu gaikoku kankei monjo, vol. 18, 93–94. 18 Tsuda Mamichi, “Tengai dokugo,” in Tsuda Mamichi zenshū, vol. 1, 62. 19 Tsuda Mamichi, “Goka kōgi ni kansuru Vissering no oboegaki,” in ibid., 91; Dutch text in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 180.
Because of this, in order to elucidate the nature of Vissering and Nishi’s Bankoku kōhō, we must first situate the lectures on international law within the overall framework of Vissering’s five-course curriculum in staatswetenschap- pen (sciences of the state) and understand them in relation to the other four courses. In the discussion that follows, I will briefly review some of the charac- teristics of Vissering’s thought, as covered in Chapters 1, 2, and 3.
Law and Civilization As a student of J.R. Thorbecke, leading jurist and central figure in the liberal reform movement in the Netherlands in the late nineteenth century, Simon Vissering was himself a prominent liberal intellectual and scholar primarily active in the fields of political economy and statistics. There are two main points that can be raised with regard to the nature of his five-course curricu- lum from the perspective of how it was connected with his lectures on interna- tional law. The first is the theme of natural law and history. The five-course curriculum began with lectures on natural law, in which Vissering taught that natural law is law that is based upon the nature of mankind as a social being, in the context of which each individual has equal rights. Yet when seen in con- nection with the lectures on constitutional law, it is obvious that unlike early nineteenth-century Dutch adherents of natural law theory, Vissering did not adopt a logical framework seeking to deduce the idea of the state from natural law, using the theory of the social contract as a mediator; rather, he argued that the situation of each nation differed according to the degree of advancement of its civilization, its customs and manners, etc. The lectures on constitutional law taught that the ideal form of government was constitutional monarchy, which had been developed in the form of positive law in modern Europe founded upon a tripartite separation of powers—and was thus a historical product of European civilization. The second characteristic of the five-course curriculum was his practical thinking and economic liberalism. The advent of Thorbecke’s jurisprudence provided the background for the rise of a concern with pragmatic and practical sciences favoring concrete empirical investigation. In this context, Vissering explained statistics to Nishi and Tsuda as an empirical science which derives natural laws from the social life of mankind. Based on this approach, he taught a theory of liberal economics in which the pursuit of individual self-interest led to the strengthening of social ties, the expansion of commerce, and the enhancement of the general utility and public welfare. According to Vissering, the validity of this is underwritten by natural laws and verified by the history of European civilization. In sum, these are the principles supporting the prosper- ity and civilization of the European world.
In his lectures on constitutional law Vissering had taught that legal rights and duties were grounded in the nature of man as a social being. Broadly speaking, however, he also saw them as products of history, secured legally under the constitutional forms of government achieved as a result of the prog- ress of civilization and development of civil society after the latter half of the eighteenth century in Europe. For Vissering, the progress of civilization was predicated upon the formation of communal social life by individuals seeking to fulfill their own interests. It was to be achieved gradually, through the real- ization of a political society based upon economically and statistically deter- mined natural laws indicating that the general utility is enhanced and expanded through the establishment of economic liberty and free trade. The goal of constitutional government is to legally protect through positive laws the mutual rights and duties of the people, historically achieved yet grounded in the concept of natural law, and to encourage the development of a civilized society that will harmonize private and public interests. Thus, as we have seen, natural law theory serves as the introduction to the overall plan of Vissering’s five-course curriculum as a basic concept and as an ultimate source of the law, but certainly not as a philosophical principle from which actually existing legal systems can be deductively derived. If anything, the key words appearing throughout Vissering’s lectures are “civilization,” “his- tory,” and “practice.” What he consistently focused his attention upon were the “practical” issues surrounding positive law—i.e. how legal systems were forged out of the historical process of the development of European civil society— and how to better understand, from an empirical perspective, the principles of wealth and prosperity that drove the advance of civilization. According to Vissering, it was precisely such a state of civilization that was the most “natu- ral” course of development for human society to take. Here the ideal of natural law grounded in the nature of man as a communal, social being harmonizes with the arguments of liberal economic theory that the realization of an inter- national society in which people live in cooperation with one another is the surest path to the advancement of civilization. In Vissering’s scholarly uni- verse, natural law and natural principles of political economy, legal rights and economic liberty all harmoniously correlated with one another. He taught that the history of European civilization itself served as evidence for the legitimacy of this argument. Therefore, for Nishi and Tsuda, the most critical issue con- fronting them upon their return to Japan was how to interpret and apply what they had learned in Vissering’s lectures in a non-European context. Concern for these issues presented in the first four courses of Vissering’s curriculum was also what shaped the underlying framework of the lectures on international law that are the central theme of this chapter.
3 Transcripts of the Leiden University Lectures in Diplomatic History and the Study of International Law in the Netherlands
As we saw in the preceding chapter, Simon Vissering was well-known in his day as a political economist conversant with the latest statistical techniques. Among his published books and academic papers there is almost nothing on the subject of international law, for it was not his field of specialization. A rare exception is a monograph of Vissering’s dealing with “De iure praedae com- mentarius” (Commentary on the Law of Prize and Booty), a manuscript by the eminent Dutch philosopher and jurist Hugo Grotius written about 1605.20 This manuscript is regarded as a valuable theoretical precursor to Grotius’s later masterwork De iure belli ac pacis (On the Law of War and Peace), but it remained undiscovered for approximately 260 years until 1864, which hap- pened to coincide with Nishi and Tsuda’s sojourn in the Netherlands. After its discovery in the home of one of Grotius’s descendants, the manuscript of “De iure praedae commentarius” was purchased by the Faculty of Law at Leiden University. Vissering was one of the professors involved in the purchase and in introducing it to the public. Unfortunately, the content of his monograph is concerned solely with a bibliographical account of the manuscript’s prove- nance and the circumstances of the manuscript’s discovery, telling us very lit- tle about Vissering’s interpretation of Grotius’s jurisprudence. The situation is quite different, however, if we broaden our consideration to include Vissering’s unpublished works and manuscript papers. Among these, of particular interest are the lectures in diplomatic history at Leiden University, responsibility for which Vissering inherited from Thorbecke, along with the lectures in political economy and statistics. An examination of what he taught in these lectures provides us with valuable insight into the intellectual back- ground of Vissering’s lectures on international law to Nishi and Tsuda, as well as a point of departure for exploring Vissering’s perception of the international order and the history of international relations.
Nineteenth-Century Dutch Research on International Law First we must consider Vissering’s lectures on diplomatic history at Leiden University as part of the development of Dutch research in international law,
20 Simon Vissering, Over een drietal handschriften von Hugo Grotius. In addition, in 1883 Vissering also gave a lecture at the Royal Academy of the Sciences on Grotius’s Inleiding tot de Hollandsche rechtsgeleertheid, the first comprehensive treatment in the Dutch lan- guage of civil law in the Netherlands. Vissering, De rechts-taal van H. de Groot’s Inleiding tot de Hollandsche rechtsgeleertheid.
21 Willem Jan Mari van Eysinga, “Geschiedenis van de Nederlandsche wetenschap van het volkenrecht.” 22 Ibid., 6–8. 23 Ibid., 19–20.
The Leiden University Lectures on Diplomatic History, 1859–60 Our primary source for the content of the lectures in diplomatic history at Leiden University that Vissering inherited from Thorbecke is a manuscript, “Dictaat over de diplomatische geschiedenis” (hereafter, “Dictaat”) preserved in the collection of the Leiden University library.27 These are handwritten notes, totaling 116 pages, on the lectures in diplomatic history that Vissering gave during the 1859–60 academic year. The manuscript consists of an introduction and two chapters; “Period 1 (1500 to 1684): The period of the origination of political equilibrium in Europe” and “Period 2 (From the 1648 Treaty of Westphalia to the 1789 French Revolution): The period of consolidation of the political equilibrium.” “Period 2” is further subdivided into two separate parts: “Part 1 (1648–1713): The maintenance of the European political equilibrium against French domination” and “Part 2 (1713 to 1789): The consolidation and expansion of the principle of political equilibrium through the actions of the northern powers in European international relations.” Throughout the lectures, Vissering uses the key concept of het politiek evenwigt (political equilibrium, or the balance of power) as an axis around which to
24 Ibid., 20–21, 26–27. 25 Ibid., 27. 26 Ibid., 28. 27 Simon Vissering, “Dictaat over de diplomatische geschiedenis, 1858–1860,” Document bpl 1518.
28 Ibid., 11. 29 Ibid., 12. 30 Ibid., 33. 31 Ibid., 31. 32 Ibid., 103–104.
33 Ibid., 78–79. 34 Ibid., 31.
35 Ibid., 111. 36 Ibid., 104–106. 37 Ibid., 5. 38 Henry Wheaton, Histoire du progrès des gens en Europe depuis la paix de Westphalie jusqu’au congres de Vienne, avec un précis historique du droit des gens européens avant la paix de Westphalie, translated into English by William Beach Lawrence, History of the Law of Nations in Europe and America, iv.
4 The Intellectual World of Vissering’s Lectures on International Law
Our principle source for the content of Vissering’s lectures on international law to Nishi and Tsuda, in addition to Nishi’s published translation of them into Japanese as Bankoku kōhō, is a set of manuscript lecture notes in Dutch
39 Vissering, “Dictaat over de diplomatische geschiedenis,” 7. 40 Ibid., 7.
41 “Volkenregt,” Tsuda Mamichi’s manuscript notes in Dutch on Vissering’s lectures on inter- national law, has been typeset and printed in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei. I worked from a microfilm of the origi- nal manuscript, but for the purposes of citation will give page numbers keyed to this printed edition. The content conforms closely with Nishi’s translation. However, the man- uscript is missing from the beginning of the second book until midway through the sec- ond chapter, and the fourth chapter is also lost. 42 Simon Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 32–33; translated by Nishi Amane as Bankoku kōhō, in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 13. 43 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 33–34; Bankoku kōhō, 13.
The rules of natural international law [seiri kōhō 性理公法] were first developed by Hugo de Groot (Hugo Grotius), who was born in Delft in Holland in 1583 and died in 1645, in his famous work, The Law of War and Peace [Jure belli ac pacis], first printed in 1625. The rules of European international law [taisei kōhō 泰西公法] were summarized for the first time in a work by the German scholar Georg Friedrich von Martens (1756–1821), Précis du droit des gens moderne de l’Europe, first printed in 1788.44
As Taoka Ryōichi has previously observed, there is considerable significance in Vissering’s mention of Martens in this context, for it was Martens who was the standard-bearer for positive international law in Germany in the late eigh- teenth century, in opposition to the international jurisprudence of the natural law theorists who had been popular prior to that time.45 In addition, concur- rently, it is also important to note that in Vissering’s lectures the names of other scholars of international law may be mentioned in passing, but neither they nor their theories are given any more detailed consideration. Vissering seems to have been almost completely uninterested in any philosophical investigation of legal principles. As we shall see later, this places his work in stark contrast to Wheaton’s International Law. But how did Vissering see the relationship between natural international law and European international law? According to Vissering, “natural interna- tional law provides the basis upon which European international law would be properly constructed.”46 Yet at the same time, Vissering argued that the various treaties and conventions shaped a significant part of European international law and have gradually have been accepted among civilized nations as the rules of their relations with one another.47 Certainly, natural international law was for Vissering one of the foundations of the superiority of European international law as a product of civilization, providing a basis for the unfolding discourse on jurisprudence. However, European international law is the “rules of mutual intercourse” formed as a result of the historical process of gradually expanding interaction among the European states. It is grounded in natural international law, but also shaped by a variety of written and unwritten agreements, conventions, and customs. Here we see a perspective on natural law and history that is similar to the one expressed
44 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 35; Bankoku kōhō, 14–15. 45 Taoka, “Nishi Shūsuke Bankoku kōhō,” 28–29, 35–37. 46 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 35; Bankoku kōhō, 14. 47 S. Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 34; Bankoku kōhō, 14.
This law among nations is determined more precisely and observed more faithfully as the relations between nations become more numerous and intimate.
48 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 39–42; Bankoku kōhō, 18–19. 49 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 41; Bankoku kōhō, 19. 50 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 41–42; Bankoku kōhō, 19.
Therefore, among the civilized nations of Europe, which are united in a system of nations, international law has gradually been developed to a great degree over the course of time and has increasingly acquired fixed rules.51
According to Vissering, international law establishing the rights of nations has its origins in natural international law, but has also been shaped by the deep- ening web of diplomatic and other relations of interest among them. It has been built up in the course of a historical process unique to Europe, as states grew more “civilized,”—that is to say, came to nurture relationships of mutual good faith and trust as their intercourse with one another matured. Of course international law now had expanded its scope beyond the frame- work of the Christian nations of Europe.
In recent times the nations joining the community of European interna- tional law have included not only the Christian nations in Europe but also the states which originated from European colonies in America, that have explicitly or tacitly adhered to this European international law.52
Vissering also observes that “Turkey has been explicitly admitted to the com- munity of European international law at the 1856 Congress of Paris.” It is worth noting, however, that it was the European nations that were the agents acknowledging the participation of a non-Western nation in their community.
The Rights of Nations in European International Law That Vissering’s lectures in international law were essentially concerned with the European law of nations is clearly indicated by the titles of Books 2 and 3: Book 2, “On the Rules of European International Law in Peace”; Book 3, “On the Rules of European International Law in Time of War.”53 Book 2 explains the various rights possessed by sovereign states in the context of international law. The first are “the rights of self-preservation and independence” (jinshinjō jishu no shoken 人身上自主の諸権), of which three
51 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 42; Bankoku kōhō, 19–20. Nishi appended a note to this passage comparing the balance of power in contemporary European international politics to the situation in ancient China during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods. A similar comparison may be found in the preface to W.A.P. Martin’s Chinese translation of Wheaton. And in fact, as I have noted in the introductory chapter to this book, such a comparison may also be found as early as Watanabe Kazan’s “Gaikoku jijōsho” of 1839. 52 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 43; Bankoku kōhō, 20. 53 Taoka, “Nishi Shūsuke Bankoku kōhō,” 27.
54 Bankoku kōhō, 22. 55 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 54–55; Bankoku kōhō, 31–34. 56 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 61–63; Bankoku kōhō, 36.
The Balance of Power and Good Faith In his lectures on diplomatic history, Vissering focused on the political equilib- rium that he saw as a constant in the history of modern European interna- tional relations. Similarly, in the lectures on international law, he pointed to the principle of the balance of power among sovereign states as the foundation of the contemporary European international system. In “earlier times” there were various ways of preventing violations of treaties or agreements, including religious rites and the offering of hostages. But in recent times there has been only one effective sanction: the pressure applied upon a country that is in vio- lation of a treaty by other states that are signatories to that treaty.57 Vissering goes on to describe contemporary European international relations in the fol- lowing terms:
As a result of the development of the European system of states, which has created a community of interests between all European states, and through the dominant influence that the so-called great powers exert, such interferences in the interests of others have gradually been multiplied.58
Nishi has translated the phrase de zoogenaamde groote mogendheden (the so- called great powers) in the original text as “five great powers,” clearly thinking of Britain, France, Austria, Prussia, and Russia. The structure of the contempo- rary international order in mid-nineteenth Europe is thus depicted as a net- work woven out of the treaties and agreements concluded among these key actors. Yet it would be wrong to reduce all of this to the simple logic of power. The unique qualities of Vissering’s portrayal of European international law are most clearly revealed in his discussions of “the right to mutual intercourse” (het regt op onderling verkeer) and of “good faith” (goede trouw). He speaks first of the rights of equality among nations:
As a result of the equivalence and equality of rights, each nation can hold the other nations responsible for valuing it and treating it with due respect; for dealing with it in good faith and approaching matters of con- cern to it with fidelity and honesty.59
57 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 82; Bankoku kōhō, 50. 58 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 74; Bankoku kōhō, 44–45. 59 Bankoku kōhō, 23.
Equal and balanced relations of power among nations can only be established on the basis of mutual “good faith,” mutual trust and respect. As Vissering explained in Book 1, international law “is determined more precisely and observed more faithfully, as the relations between nations become more numerous and intimate.”60 In other words, this good faith becomes more firmly established as a result of the deepening of international relations that occurs in the course of historical progress and the advance of civilization. Of course the observance of this good faith, as noted earlier, is not something supported by a purely moral sensibility; it is also based in self-interest and practical calcu- lations: the realization that “it is wiser and more advantageous to accept the law as principles of honesty and good faith.”61 As we saw in the lectures on diplomatic history, in modern Europe, as all states competed with one another to expand and preserve their power, their intercourse and trade with one another deepened and the principle of the political equilibrium took shape. It was precisely through this historical process that good faith—the morality of international relations in civilized society—was cultivated. And it was upon this very foundation that “the right to mutual intercourse” was established. Vissering, who counted this right of mutual intercourse as being the funda- mental right of sovereign states, also begins his discussion of it with reference to natural law. “In natural law there is nothing which states that there is an essential right to intercourse among the nations.”62 Based upon “the natural rights of independence,” a nation should be able to determine for itself whether it wishes to engage in intercourse with others. In fact, it is “unjust” for other nations “to compel a nation to participate in mutual intercourse by force.”63 But here his argument shifts. “According to the principles of European interna- tional law, however, the right of mutual intercourse is acknowledged.”64 In international relations, to close a country—“to refuse intercourse with other nations,” “to refuse foreigners entry into one’s territory,” and “to refuse the assis- tance and protection of others”—is counter to the “principles of humanity and civilization” (de beginselen van menschelijkheid en beschaving).65
The civilized countries observing European international law naturally have many common interests and a variety of mutual relations so that no
60 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 42; Bankoku kōhō, 19–20. 61 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 42; Bankoku kōhō, 19. 62 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 49; Bankoku kōhō, 7. 63 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 49; Bankoku kōhō, 27. 64 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 49; Bankoku kōhō, 27. 65 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 49; Bankoku kōhō, 27.
nation may completely deny the mutual intercourse with one or more countries. Any nation that attempted to seclude itself from intercourse with others would itself be excluded from the benefits of participating in European international law.66
Here we have arrived at a point where the logic of intercourse in European international law has taken precedence over the principles derived from natural international law. Vissering cites as rules of European international law that the intercourse between and among nations must not be obstructed; that every nation must permit foreign nationals to enter and leave its territories; that foreign nationals must be given protection and assistance; and that the freedom of “com- merce and shipping among various countries” is ensured as much as possible, and defended and stimulated as conducive to “mutual benefit.”67 It is necessary for each nation to work to develop its relations with others, even for the purposes of self-preservation and independence and securing the peace and prosperity of its own people.68 Judicial jurisdiction (“foreign nationals in the territory of a state are subject to its laws”) and tariff autonomy (“commerce and shipping are subject to taxation”) were also included in these rights of intercourse. This discourse on the rights of intercourse overlaps with the image depicted in Vissering’s lectures on the diplomatic history of the “liberal republic” of the United Netherlands, emerging as a secular state through the expansion of its trade and commerce to form a mature and robust civil society. It also has an intrinsic relationship to the liberal economic theory that informed Vissering’s lectures to Nishi and Tsuda on political economy and statistics. As we saw in the first section of this chapter, the rights and duties predicated on human nature based on people as social beings that Vissering taught in his lectures on natural law were also, for him, historical products derived from the progress of civilization in European society from the late eighteenth century onward. This progress of civilization had been realized on the basis of natural laws of politi- cal economy: the enhancement of common interests and utility through the establishment of free economy and the expansion of free trade. Therefore, the purpose of constitutional government is defined as protecting the rights and secu rity of the citizens, extending the way of mutual assistance and social life, and thus fostering the national interest.69 In this respect, we can see a connection
66 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 50; Bankoku kōhō, 28. 67 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 51; Bankoku kōhō, 28. 68 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 51; Bankoku kōhō, 28. 69 Simon Vissering, translated by Tsuda Mamichi, Taisei kokuhō ron, in Tsuda Mamichi zenshū. vol. 1, 141.
A Critique of “Just War” Theory Similar concerns run throughout Book 3, which deals with the rules of European international law during wartime. Vissering says that in “earlier times” war was waged on the rationale that the enemies were barbarians, idol- ators, hostile to Christianity, or heretics.70 Moreover, these were “wars whose purpose was the extermination of the enemy.” These were the customs of the “barbarous nations” (de ba[r]baarsche volken), but also of nations like ancient Greece and Rome.71 In contrast to this, in the European international law hon- ored by the “civilized nations” (de beschaafde volken) of the present, the right to wage war was limited to the purpose “of self-defense” or “to protect or sup- port another state as an ally.” In this regard, European international law has its source in “the principle of natural law.”72 Yet here, too, there is a distinction to be made. Natural international law recognizes the validity of the waging of a “just war” (een regtvaardigen oorlog) on the part of a nation whose rights have been violated.73 In contrast, the per- spective on warfare offered by European international law is quite different in character. “European international law recognizes the legitimacy of both par- ties in warfare between sovereign states. Therefore it gives both parties equal rights.”74 In warfare between sovereign states, the question is no longer one of the legitimacy or justice of the proximate causes of the war, but of the equality of standing and equivalence of rights among the combatants. The reason Vissering gives for not accepting the theory of “just war” based on natural law
70 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 83–84; Bankoku kōhō, 51–52. 71 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 89–90; Bankoku kōhō, 57. 72 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 83–84; Bankoku kōhō, 51. 73 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 90; Bankoku kōhō, 57. 74 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 90; Bankoku kōhō, 57.
Under the influence of civilized nations in modern times, European international law demands that even our enemies be treated with consid- erations of honesty, good faith, and humanity (eerlijkheid, goede trouw en menschelijkheid).76
Here too Vissering proposes “honesty, good faith, and humanity” as the unique morality of European international law—the law of civilization—undergird- ing a system of sovereign states preserving an international order derived from their mutual intercourse and founded upon the principle of the balance of power. Even if war should break out, the civilized nations, under the aegis of European international law, must not stray from the path of honesty, good faith and humanity. “Thus European international law has established certain rules that must be complied with in wartime.”77 These rules of war include injunc- tions against such barbarities as unnecessary killing, pillage, use of poison, regicide, as well as agreements to observe certain conventions regarding truces, exchange of prisoners, safe-conduct permission for specified individuals. “Humanity (menschelijkheid) exerts its influence on the customs of war in the
75 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 85; Bankoku kōhō, 54. 76 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 91; Bankoku kōhō, 58. 77 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 91; Bankoku kōhō, 58.
The Right of Neutral Nations and Diplomatic Intercourse As we have seen in the preceding section, the evolution away from “just war” theory also led to a new concern with the rights of neutral nations. Vissering’s
78 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 102; Bankoku kōhō, 65. 79 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 108–109; Bankoku kōhō, 69–73. 80 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 108–109; Bankoku kōhō, 69.
81 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 115; Bankoku kōhō, 73. 82 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 117; Bankoku kōhō, 75. 83 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 118; Bankoku kōhō, 75. 84 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 118; Bankoku kōhō, 68. 85 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 119–120; Bankoku kōhō, 76.
Vissering and Nineteenth-Century European International Law As we have seen, the main theme of Vissering’s lectures on international law was to explicate the structure of contemporary European international law as the law of civilization. It was law that had its origins in natural law, which it still regarded as a touchstone, but that had been born out of the processes of European history, and even in its most recent developments, such as the Congress of Paris, continued the long evolutionary process to civilization. European international law as depicted by Vissering is law rooted in the political equilibrium among sovereign states, arisen from the expanding inter- course sought by each nation as it sought to extend its own power and influ- ence, and codified through the conclusion of treaties and agreements. It was also something that had been shaped by the economic, political, and moral values common to European modernity, and especially by free trade and constitutional government. As mentioned in the Introduction, Vissering explained to Nishi and Tsuda that natural law “is the foundation of all other law” and that international law “expands the application of natural law externally to regulate the intercourse among nations.” This assertion is best
86 Bankoku kōhō, 84.
Japan and the Periphery of European International Law Then, how did Vissering’s lectures on international law deal with Japan and the other countries of the non-Western world located on the periphery of or entirely outside the European sphere of influence? No doubt this question was most central to the concerns of his auditors, Nishi and Tsuda.
87 Carl Schmitt, Land und Meer and Der Nomos der Erde im Völkerrecht des Jus Publicum Europaeum; Der Nomos der Erde: im Völkerrecht des Jus Publicum Europaeum. Köln: Greven, 1950; translated into English by G.L. Ulmen. The Nomos of the Earth in the International Law of the Jus Publicum Europaeum.
If we recall Vissering’s discussion of peacetime international law, he saw it as having its origins in natural law, with each nation possessing equal rights as a sovereign state in its relations with others—with the caveat that “in practice, it becomes possible to bring these rights to realization only when they are adopted and established as rules of European international law.”88 Stated con- versely, this meant that if a nation was judged not to be possessed of the rights of independence in conformity with European international law, then it could not secure equal rights. And in fact, in Book 2 the existence of “differentials of power between strong and weak” is acknowledged, and a hierarchy established, running from the “first-class nations” (in Nishi’s translation, dai ittō koku 第一 等国) headed by the five great powers down to “third-class nations” controlled by other states, and even “semi-sovereign states” (hanshu no kuni 半主の国) without “the rights of independence.”89 In these lectures, the Netherlands, Sweden, and Turkey are cited as examples of “second-class nations,” while the ranking of Japan, China, Korea and other non-Western states is not even men- tioned. Yet discussion of the distinction between the civilized nations of Europe and the non-Western nations on the periphery of European interna- tional law had great significance for Nishi and Tsuda. With the foregoing discussion as background, Vissering argued that sovereign states possessed the “right of independence of internal government” and therefore judicial jurisdic- tion over foreign nationals within their territories90—but pointed out that there were certain exceptions to this rule.
Against states which do not join the community of European interna- tional law, such as Japan, China, Siam, and Persia, the European nations negotiate special rights for their diplomats in order to protect their nationals.91
Similarly, in Book 4, it is argued that in the non-Western states “to the east of Europe” the consuls “dispatched by the European nations to protect their nationals” should “possess complete authority to adjudicate lawsuits brought against their nationals and determine guilt.” According to Vissering, “this stems from the unavoidable circumstance that it remains completely impossible to regulate intercourse with these nations on the foundation of
88 Bankoku kōhō, 22. 89 Bankoku kōhō, 22–23. 90 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 45; Bankoku kōhō, 24. 91 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 47; Bankoku kōhō, 26.
European international law.”92 Thus, in Vissering’s lectures Western demands for the right to consular courts in China and Japan, i.e. consular jurisdiction, were legitimated—in fact, regarded almost as a foregone conclusion—by the logic of defending the rights and interests of European nationals resident there. In relationships with non-Western nations who did not share in “the foun- dations of European international law,” the European countries had a legiti- mate rationale for seeking the protection of consular courts for their nationals. Yet if this were the case, could the non-Western nations not respond with the obvious counterargument—appealing to the rights of self-preservation and independence of internal government, proclaimed by natural law—that they would refuse relations with any nation attempting to subject them to unequal status via treaty provisions of this kind? Vissering’s response to this was the discussion of “rights of mutual intercourse” mentioned earlier. There is noth- ing in natural law obliging a nation to engage in relations with any other; but from the perspective of the “good faith” ethic among civilized nations and the economic interests involved in free trade, intercourse with other nations should not be refused.93 Rather, by participating in international relations and commerce and sharing in European international law as the public law of the civilized world, the non-Western nations could be recognized as sovereign states and the institution of consular courts could be eliminated. As noted previously, Vissering, situated as he was within the community of civilized nations honoring European international law, saw absolutely no con- tradiction between it and natural international law. Yet seen from outside this community, there were clearly contradictory and conflicting elements. In this sense, Vissering’s lectures on international law could lead us to conclude that the rules of European international law, based on a theory of social intercourse rooted in economic liberalism, had completely transcended and supplanted the theory of natural law. To advance the discussion a step further, we might question whether a nation that has demands for intercourse pressed upon it with threats of mili- tary force and then signs treaties of amity and trade under duress should be able to abrogate these agreements at a later time. And in fact, Japan was faced with just such a situation when in 1853 Commodore Perry arrived with his squadron of American warships demanding an end to Japan’s policies of isola- tion. Fear of the power of these “black ships” was one factor inducing the Tokugawa shogunate to sign the 1854 Convention of Peace and Amity and the 1858 Treaty of Amity and Commerce with the United States.
92 Bankoku kōhō, 94–95. 93 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 49–50; Bankoku kōhō, 27–28.
However, Vissering’s response to the question of whether the element of duress could justify abrogation of such treaties was that such an argument is “scarcely acceptable.” “According to the principles of European international law,” even treaties concluded under threat of military force, once signed, are judged to have been signed “with free will (vrijwillig).”94
The observance of this rule is necessary, because otherwise the principle of equality of rights and the principle of independence of the states would be lost. Moreover, if one alleges deception or force as an excuse for abrogating the fulfillment of an agreement, this goes against good faith which above all must rule intercourse among nations.95
Yet what happens if war resulted from refusing to accept an unequal treaty forced upon one’s nation by a great power? If it ended in defeat and the forced signing of an unequal treaty anyway, would there later be any opportunity to appeal the justice of one’s cause?
Every peace has to be performed with honesty and good faith [eerlijk en te goede getrouw; kōsei nishite katsu chūshin 公正にして且つ忠信]. It is considered that both parties have come to agreement in free will, even if one state has been forced by warfare to submit to the superior force of another. If the state wishes to abrogate the fulfillment of the treaty by declaring that it was compelled to come to agreement, it would endanger its own dignity and independence.96
Vissering’s rejection of just war theory of course limited resort to hostilities to cases in which a nation’s fundamental rights were being violated. However, once warfare had commenced, since each side would assert the legitimacy of its cause, their rights could only be recognized equally and impartially. Thus, peace treaties must be regarded as being concluded equally and of free will by the signatory nations. A defeated nation submitting to superior military force must also submit to treaty terms even if they were forced upon it against its will. For the defeated nation to refuse to honor the provisions of such a treaty on the grounds that it was extorted from it by force would amount to an abandonment of its own sovereignty. This was the meaning of “honesty and good faith” in European international law.
94 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 75; Bankoku kōhō, 45–46. 95 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 75–76; Bankoku kōhō,” 46. 96 Vissering, “Volkenregt,” 113; Bankoku kōhō, 72.
Thus Vissering’s lectures on international law bore the deep historical imprint of European international politics. “Honesty and good faith” were the ethical principles essential to maintaining and strengthening an international order based on the balance of power among sovereign states. Therefore, this did nothing to contradict the fact that “good faith” also always functioned as a principle supplementing the logic of power and serving the powerful. Vissering demonstrates that international law took shape within this historical process, as relations between nations grew more substantial, their people prospered, and civilization advanced. What Vissering taught in this regard was, however, difficult for people on the periphery or entirely outside the boundaries of the public law of the European nations to see as reasonable or just—because they were being presented at the outset with demands that they submit to unequal concessions and privileges on the part of the European powers, and pressured to observe them faithfully until such time as they were judged to be civilized states equal to the European nations. Even so, Vissering’s discourse contained two points that cannot simply be dismissed as serving the logic of power and which contribute additional depth and complexity to this issue. The first is that the discussion of good faith and humanity embodied certain universal moral values that encouraged the defense of such principles of constitutional government as the respect for individual civil rights, as well as prohibitions on extremely cruel and barbaric tactics in time of war. Secondly, the discussion of international law centered on such principles as good faith and mutual intercourse was ulti- mately predicated on economic principles; for example, the natural laws that Vissering propounded in his lectures on political economy supported the concept of free trade. Therefore, if one followed Vissering in accepting these economic theories as scientific truth, Japan and other non-Western nations really had no viable option other than to accept European international law as the public law of civilized society. And it is here that the real political and intellectual issues emerge with Nishi and Tsuda would grapple upon their return to Japan.
5 Two Views of International Law: Vissering and Wheaton
Now that we have examined the characteristics of Vissering’s lectures on inter- national law and Nishi’s translation of them as Bankoku kōhō, we turn to the question of what significance they possessed at the dawn of modern Japan’s acceptance of Western international law. For this purpose, it is useful to com- pare this Bankoku kōhō with the other text published under this title in the same period—the translation into literary Chinese by W.A.P. Martin of Henry
Wheaton’s Elements of International Law. The Chinese title of the book, 万国公法 (Wanguo gongfa), is read in Japanese as Bankoku kōhō, making the title identi- cal to that of Nishi’s translation of Vissering. In considering how the characterizations of international law differ between these two texts, Nishi’s introduction to his translation of Vissering is instruc- tive. Nishi alludes to the Wheaton/Martin Wanguo gongfa in the translator’s notes to his Bankoku kōhō, calling it “a good book” and judging it to be a “stan- dard” and “model” for discussion of contemporary international law.97 It must have been a bit surprising for Nishi and Tsuda, newly returned from their study abroad and all set to play a pioneering role in introducing knowledge of inter- national law to their homeland, to discover that in their absence the Chinese translation of Wheaton had already received wide distribution and attention in Japan. And it is likely that Nishi’s choice of the phrase bankoku kōhō to trans- late volkenregt owed something to the existence—and popularity—of this Chinese book. However, Nishi continued his comments on this work by saying that it was not a book written “for beginners” but as “material for mature scholars,” and that there were certain problems resulting from this. He says that because Wheaton’s International Law was not written as an introductory text, and that translation of such a work “is a difficult business,” many differences in nuance and meaning can arise between the original and its translation. In contrast to this, Nishi says that his own translation of Vissering was based on direct study with the author, allowing for detailed questions and discussion and notes taken down in his pencil in Vissering’s presence. Given this situation, Vissering’s lectures and Nishi’s resulting translation “were intended from the beginning for the convenience of beginners” and were set forth in a clear and systematic fashion.
Therefore students just starting may use this book as a primer, learning the various regulations and laying a solid foundation for their studies; yet later on, as they give matters further thought and become more thoroughly acquainted with cases and precedents, they will find that hav- ing such a solid introduction will greatly ease the path of their future studies.98
Nishi is saying that it is his translation of Vissering that will prove to be the true foundation for international law in Japan, and in this we can read his strong
97 Nishi Amane, “Hanrei” in Bankoku kōhō, 7. 98 Ibid., 7–8.
Grotius would, undoubtably, have done better had he sought the origin of the Natural Law of Nations in the principle of utility…But in the time that Grotius wrote, this principle which has so greatly contributed to dispel the mist with which the foundations of the science of International Law were obscured, was but very little understood.102
99 Henry Wheaton, Elements of International Law, 1. It is assumed that Martin’s Chinese translation was based on the sixth edition of Wheaton, in turn based on the fourth edition but annotated by William Beach Lawrence, and published in 1855. See, for example, Zhang Jianing, “Bankoku kōhō (bunken kaidai),” 404. We also treat the sixth edition as the original source text in this book. Wheaton published his first edition in 1836, and made substantial revisions and expansions to the text when the third edition was published in 1845. According to Matsukuma Kiyoshi, the numerous revisions to the text at this time significantly weakened the elements of natural law theory in the text, while much greater attention was given to the principles of positive international law as found in specific cases. Matsukuma Kiyoshi, Kokusai hōshi no gunzō, 339. 100 See also Inoue Katsuo, “Bankoku kōhō (bunken kaidai)”; Sumiyoshi Yoshihito, “Meiji shoki ni okeru kokusaihō no dōnyū.” 101 Wheaton, Elements of International Law, 2–5. 102 Ibid., 5.
Wheaton then turns to Bijnkershoek, who “derives the law of nations from reason and usage” and suggests that “the law of nations” can only exist among nations that voluntarily agree to recognize and to submit to the same conventions of usage.103 After devoting a considerable number of pages to the theories of Wolff and Vattel, Wheaton then takes up the system of Heffter, whom he calls “one of the most recent and distinguished public jurists of Germany.” Heffter saw the “law of nations, jus gentium” in the modern world as pertaining to the direct rela- tions between states. A nation observes this law out of “the persuasion that other nations will observe toward it the same law.” Conversely, “it cannot violate this law without exposing itself to the danger of incurring the enmity of other nations and without exposing to hazard its own existence.” In short, Wheaton’s reading of Heffter is that the law of nations “is founded upon the reciprocity of the will,” “its organ and regulator is public opinion,” and “its supreme tribunal is history.”104 According to Wheaton, there is “no universal law of nations, such as Cicero describes in his treatise De Republica, binding upon the whole human race.” If so, then what is the “law of nations”? Here, he finally arrives at an examination of the positions of Bentham, Austin, and Savigny, jurists active from the late eigh- teenth into the early nineteenth century. In particular he quotes Austin, who argues that “laws, properly so called, are commands” issuing from a sovereign or superior person or body. He argues that “the law of nations, or international law” is “only termed law by its analogy to positive law, being imposed upon nations or sovereigns not by the positive command of a superior authority, but by the opin- ions generally current among nations.” Because of this, Austin continues, “the duties which it imposes are enforced by moral sanctions: by fear on the part of nations, or by fear on the part of sovereigns, of provoking general hostility, and incurring its probable evils…”105 Wheaton then cites Savigny, who sees “interna- tional law” as constituted by a “community of ideas, founded upon a common origin and religious faith” that has spread by “the progress of civilization, founded upon Christianity” to include “our intercourse with all the nations of the globe.” Wheaton gives a positive assessment of Savigny’s historical perspective on the development of international law, and then remarks “in confirmation of this view that the more recent intercourse between the Christian nations in Europe and America and the Mohammedan and Pagan nations of Asia and Africa indicates a disposition, on the part of the latter, to renounce their
103 Ibid., 8–9. 104 Ibid., 14–16. 105 Ibid., 18–19.
International law, as understood among civilized nations, may be defined as consisting of those rules of conduct which reason deduces, as conso- nant to justice, from the nature of the society existing among indepen- dent nations; with such definitions and modifications as may be established by general consent.107
Comparing Vissering and Wheaton, and their Translations If we compare the foregoing perspective offered by Wheaton with the content of Vissering’s lectures on international law, the first thing to note is that despite various divergences in their presentation, the two are quite similar in their essential character. This was not because both of them based themselves in natural law theory; rather, it was because they supplemented it by actively incorporating positive law theory and scholarship. While both regarded natural law as an important source of jurisprudence, their real field of scholarly inquiry was contemporary European international law. For them, international law was historically determined and transformed through the medium of the web of common interests and threats woven in the process of interactions among the nations of Europe. It was, more than anything else, the product of the advance of European civilization. Because of this, Wheaton, like Vissering, saw the autonomous and sovereign state as the subject of international law, and the fundamental rights of the sovereign state as being the rights to self-preservation, independence, and equality (Part II). Wheaton also makes a distinction among sovereign states, semi-sovereign states, and tribu- tary and vassal states (Part I, Chapter 2). In addition, he expresses a critical attitude toward “just war” theory (Part IV, Chapter 1); and discusses both the “cannon-shot rule” (Part II, Chapter 4) and neutrality in time of war (Part IV, Chapter 3).
106 Ibid., 20–22. 107 Ibid., 22.
On the other hand, upon closer examination certain differences also emerge in the orientation of these two writers. Wheaton in particular is consistently attentive to the search for “the principles of justice that ought to regulate the mutual relations of nations,” seeing justice grounded in reason as the founda- tion of international law. He places great value on the work of the “public jurists” who have contributed to the development of international jurispru- dence.108 This is why Wheaton begins his book with a lengthy discussion of their various theories of international law. This is also why, when citing the sources of international law—including treaties of peace and commerce, adju- dication of prize courts, diplomatic documents, and so forth—Wheaton places at the head of the list “text-writers of authority,” whom he applauds as “gener- ally impartial in their judgment” and whose work he clearly sees as making a significant contribution to the normative value of international law.109 In con- trast, we find in Vissering’s lectures no similar philosophical quest for the prin- ciples of justice that should support international law, and almost no mention of the jurists who grappled with this question, nor discussion of their theories. Which is not, of course, to say that Vissering was uninterested in the issue of justice in international law. Yet Vissering’s principal attention was devoted to the explanation of the current state of European international law as it had become historically established through the accumulation of treaties and con- ventions among nations. This also related, no doubt, to the differing perspec- tives on the history of modern European international relations to be found in Vissering’s lectures on diplomatic history and in Wheaton’s History of the Law of Nations in Europe and America. However, we should be quite cautious in taking this point to signify that there was an essential difference between Vissering and Wheaton’s under- standing of international law. As Nishi Amane himself observed, any differ- ences in approach between the two works owed a great deal to their considerably different format and character as texts: Wheaton’s being a more than 500-page work of specialized scholarly research quite difficult and recon- dite for “beginning students,” while Vissering’s was based on oral lectures deliv- ered directly to such students—who also came from a completely different culture. Such marked differences in the form of the original texts were one of the most fundamental reasons for the differences between the two works in translation. In fact, if we now turn to Wanguo gongfa, the American missionary W.A.P. Martin’s translation into literary Chinese of Wheaton’s Elements of International
108 See also Inoue, “Bankoku kohō (bunken kaidai)”; Matsukuma, Kokusai hōshi no gunzō. 109 Wheaton, Elements of International Law, 22–26.
Law, we find that it deviates from being a translation in the strictest sense, frequently choosing to convey the meaning of the original at the expense of literal fidelity. Nishi alluded to this in his introduction to his own translation of Vissering, saying “Translation is a difficult business, and even if one does not make major errors, it is impossible to avoid subtle discrepancies in meaning and nuances in diction.”110 What were the salient features of this ambitious effort by Martin to intro- duce the first serious treatise on European international law to the East Asian world, with its entirely different cultural tradition? In this regard, the research of Zhang Jianing has suggested that one of the motives behind Martin’s trans- lation was the missionary impulse to “spread something of the Christian spirit” among the Chinese.111 Sumiyoshi Yoshihito has also analyzed Martin’s personal correspondence and tells us that Martin was trying to bring a recognition of “God and his eternal justice” to the Chinese government through this transla- tion.112 Inoue Katsuo has observed that Martin’s Chinese translation is not unfaithful to the original, but tends to oversimplify, and uses language based on natural law theory and certain Confucian terminology.113 In fact, Martin’s literary Chinese translation employs a number of terms and phrases deeply rooted in Confucianism and other aspects of traditional Chinese culture. Especially in the translation of Wheaton’s introductory chap- ter, which begins with an examination of Grotius, Martin makes heavy use of terms such as 性法 (Japanese, seihō, natural law), 天法 (J., tenpō, heavenly law), 天理 (J., tenri, heavenly principles), and 自然之法 (J., shizen no hō, law of nature). In the portions of the book dealing directly with the diplomatic relations between the Western nations and China, there are also some very interesting discrepancies between the original text and Martin’s translated version. After touching briefly on the Ottoman Empire as an example of a non-European state whose relations and “conventional stipulations” with the European nations “may be considered as bringing it within the pale of the public law” of the latter, Wheaton’s original text continues:
The same remark may be applied to the recent diplomatic transactions between the Chinese Empire and the Christian nations of Europe and America, in which the former has been compelled to abandon its
110 Nishi, “Hanrei” in Bankoku kōhō, 7. 111 Zhang, “Kaisetsu,” 386. 112 Sumiyoshi Yoshihito, “Meiji shoki ni okeru kokusaihō no dōnyū,” 33–34. 113 Inoue, “Bankoku kohō (bunken kaidai),” 477.
inveterate anti-commercial and anti-social principles and to acknowl- edge the independence and equality of other nations in the mutual inter- course of war and peace.114
But Martin’s translation of this passage considerably weakens the harsh critical tone—“compelled to abandon its inveterate anti-commercial and social prin- ciples” becomes simply “China has relaxed its former prohibitions and engages in intercourse with other nations.”115 In this treatment the element of duress or compulsion stated in the original is absent, and with it the obvious implication of inequality resulting from the forcing of weaker non-Western nations to com- ply with European international law. Rather, Martin’s translation emphasizes the universality of the law of nations in a more positive sense. He translates the last part of this passage as: “The crux of the matter is that all nations acknowl- edge this and treat one another as equal and independent states.” However, as Inoue Katsuo has noted, this does not mean that Martin delib- erately translated Wheaton’s work in a manner intended to stress the elements of natural law theory present in it. Zhang Jianing tells us that Martin had the assistance of four Chinese scholars as he prepared the manuscript of this translation, and that four clerks from the Zongli Yamen (the Qing foreign office) participated in editing and proofreading it for publication, observing that “the Chinese translation of Elements of International Law was to a consid- erable degree faithful to the original text.”116 Another modern Chinese scholar, Zhou Yuan, while acknowledging that the translation “employs traditional Chinese concepts and terminology,” concludes that there is “not much validity” to the argument that this resulted in a greater stress on natural law theory than was present in the original.117 But what is perhaps most significant here is that Martin’s Chinese translation of Wheaton, through its overseas reception in Japan, was given an expanded readership that gave birth to a broader range of interpretation of its content. Through their contact with it, certain intellectuals of late Tokugawa and early Meiji Japan—especially scholars steeped in the Confucian tradition—were brought to think deeply about the universal normative value of international law. In this regard, it is worth looking at Bankoku kōhō reikan, published in 1876 (Meiji 9), a critical edition of Wheaton and Martin that was annotated, given Japanese grammatical markings, and explicated by two leading Confucian
114 Wheaton, Elements of International Law, 22. 115 Henry Wheaton, translated into Chinese by W.A.P Martin, Wanguo gongfa, 12 chō-ura. 116 Zhang, “Kaisetsu,” 389. 117 Zhou Yuan, “Ding Weiliang, Bankoku kohō no hon’yaku shuhō,” 719.
118 Henry Wheaton, translated by W.A.P. Martin, edited with explanatory notes by Takatani Ryūshū and Nakamura Masanao, Bankoku kōhō reikan, Jō-hen Jō, 21-chō-ura. 119 Henry Wheaton, translated into Japanese by Yasuno Shigetsugu, based on the Chinese translation by W.A.P. Martin, Wayaku bankoku kōhō, 3-chō-ura. 120 Yokoi Shōnan, letter to Oi Saheita and Taihei (September 1866), in Yokoi Shōnan ikō, 482.
If this is the case, the strong cannot oppress the weak, the many cannot disrespect the few, the great cannot surpass the small. Thus each among the many nations shall be able to enjoy peace and security, aided by the regulating influence of public law. Is this not a great thing?
Of course, Nakamura was no naive optimist, divorced from the realities of life. Subsequently, he noted the reality that warfare without just cause resulting from self-interested disputes had not been eliminated from international poli- tics. Yet he was also convinced that the day would “certainly come” when “such crimes would be rectified according to international regulations,” and that “harbingers” of this could be discerned in the current events of his time.
In recent years there was an incident in which our country rescued Chinese nationals from a Peruvian slave ship, an action adjudicated by the tsar of Russia to be fair and just, thus avoiding further dispute. Thus it would appear that we are gradually advancing toward the prevention of warfare without just cause. Ah, the study of international law gains vigor with each passing day and month, and when it is fully established, what a heavenly paradise it will make of our world.121
Nakamura is referring to the Maria Luz incident, in which the Japanese govern- ment rescued indentured Chinese coolies from a Peruvian vessel that had called at Yokohama and repatriated them to Qing China, an action later con- firmed by Tsar Alexander II of Russia, who was requested to arbitrate the issue as a neutral party. In this contemporary event, Nakamura saw evidence of international justice prevailing on the basis of bankoku kōhō (the law of nations). From this we may extrapolate Nakamura’s perception of interna- tional relations, which led him to seek—and perhaps even to find—in interna- tional law a set of universal norms that would regulate international politics and provide for the equal participation of all nations. Thus, while the introductory chapter of Wheaton’s Elements of International Law explored the nature of international law from both historical and philo- sophical perspectives, the rest of the text was a specialized treatise, difficult for beginners. Moreover, it reached the hands of late Tokugawa and early Meiji- period Japanese through the medium of a translation into literary Chinese by an American missionary. As a result, some Japanese scholars read it from a perspective shaped by the Confucian worldview that sought the existence in
121 Wheaton, translated by Martin, edited with explanatory notes by Takatani Ryūshū and Nakamura Masanao, Bankoku Kōhō reikan, Jō-hen Jō, 21-chō-omote.
122 For details of Nakamura Masanao’s study abroad in Britain and experience in China, see Matsuzawa Hiroaki, Kindai Nihon no keisei to Seiyō keiken, Chapter 2.
The more our knowledge develops, the wider our social intercourse becomes. And as our associations broaden, the closer become the bonds between us. One country cannot rashly wage war against another, for the rights of nations are guaranteed under international law.124
And on the basis of this view of international law, Fukuzawa develops his con- cept of the equality of nations:
Japan and the nations of the West are peoples who live between the same heaven and earth, feel the warmth of the same sun . . . We should associate with one another following the law of Heaven and humanity [tenri jindō 天理人道]. Such an attitude, based on reason, implies acknowledging one’s guilt even before the black slaves of Africa; but it also means standing on principle without fear of the warships of England and America.125
Matsuzawa Hiroaki, who has written a detailed historical analysis of Fukuzawa’s autobiography, says that the background for this understanding of interna- tional law was provided by a personal experience of Fukuzawa’s as a member of the first Japanese mission to Europe in 1862 (Bunkyū 2).126 While visiting London, Fukuzawa had learned, to his amazement, of a petition that had been submitted to Parliament by ordinary British citizens criticizing the immoral behavior of the British minister to Japan, Rutherford Alcock. And in an essay dating to around 1866 (Keiō 2), Fukuzawa wrote, “For anyone wishing to become a civilized gentleman . . . it is desirable that they convert to the religion of international law.”127 Thus a vision of international law as having universal normative value gradually took shape within the sphere of early Meiji public discourse.
123 Fukuzawa Yukichi, Seiyō jijō gaihen, in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 1. 124 Fukuzawa Yukichi, Gakumon no susume, 101; translated into English by David A. Dilworth and Hirano Umeyo, 70. 125 Fukuzawa, Gakumon no susume, 15; Dilworth and Hirano, 6. 126 Matsuzawa Hiroaki, “Fukuzawa Yukichi to mid-Victorian Radicalism.” 127 Fukuzawa Yukichi, “Zuihitsu,” in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 20, 12.
In contrast to this, Vissering’s interpretation of the history of European international relations, as presented in Nishi’s Bankoku kōhō, along with his liberal economic theories and discourse on constitutional government, pro- vided the foundation for a consistently pragmatic focus on presenting the actual state of contemporary European international law. In addition, his lec- tures were presented to his “beginning students” Nishi and Tsuda, which no doubt gave them the opportunity to ask questions and discuss the content of what they were being taught in light of what they had learned in his other lec- tures, thereby deepening their understanding. The Vissering/Nishi Bankoku kōhō was a text grounded in notes taken directly in the course of this personal and immediate interchange with their teacher. Because of this, there was scant opportunity left for the rather creative interpretations that Takatani and Nakamura brought to the other Bankoku kōhō of Wheaton and Martin. And this constituted the decisive difference between these two quite different translated texts. But the question remains: How did Nishi and Tsuda attempt to give practical application to the understanding of international law that they gained from Vissering’s lectures? They were also quite active in the sphere of public opinion through their involvement with the Meiroku zasshi, which gave them a plat- form from which to develop and broadcast their views—informed by their study of international law—on foreign policy issues. Moreover, they also had concrete connections with the policy process of Meiji government. In the fol- lowing section we will examine the nature of their positions on foreign policy, with reference to debates that they engaged in with Nakamura Masanao and Fukuzawa Yukichi.
6 Debates in the Meiroku zasshi
In 1854, a year after Commodore Matthew Perry had appeared in the waters of Uraga Bay with a squadron of four American warships demanding the opening of Japan, a Treaty of of Peace and Amity was signed between the Tokugawa shogunate and the United States. By the terms of this treaty, Japan opened two ports, Shimoda and Hakodate, to visits by American ships, thus ending a seclu- sion policy that had been maintained for over two centuries. Then, in 1858, the Tokugawa regime signed a second treaty with the United States—its first mod- ern commercial treaty with a Western nation. This Treaty of Amity and Com merce, as it was called, opened a total of five ports to trade: Kanagawa, Nagasaki, Niigata, Hyōgo, and Hakodate. It also stipulated that foreign resi- dence and commercial activity would be permitted in limited areas in and
How did Nishi and Tsuda make use of what they had learned in Vissering’s lectures on international law after returning to Japan and the foreign policy issues confronting it in the early Meiji period? As we have seen in previous chapters of this book, through their encounter with Vissering’s five-course cur- riculum and the reinterpretation of the concepts and vocabulary of their own (primarily Confucian) intellectual tradition that it inspired, Nishi and Tsuda assimilated Vissering’s economic liberalism and constitutionalism. From this basis, they mounted a critique of Japan’s existing political culture, seeking the development and expansion of an autonomous political society built upon the concepts of rights and interests. While rejecting the traditional conception of political society in East Asia with its submissiveness to authority, they attempted to accurately convey the essence of Vissering’s lectures by repurpos- ing traditional terminology to translate key concepts such as intercourse (het verkeer; kōsai, 交際), fairness (eerlijkheid; renchi chūshin jinai no michi 兼恥忠信 仁愛の道), good faith (goede trouw; shinjitsu 信実), and social life (het maatschappelijk leven; aiseiyō no michi 相生養の道). By so doing, they came to a practical internal understanding of European thought and institutions—an appreciation that at their core was an ideal of the mutuality of rights among individuals and nations rooted in the communal life of mankind—as well as a commitment to “civilized” values built upon such foundations.
Nishi and Tsuda’s Foreign Policy Positions (1): Free Trade The positions of Nishi and Tsuda on foreign policy, and specifically on the issue of free trade, also derived from such engagement. In the early Meiji period, Japanese society was confronted with a grave and accelerating economic crisis caused by an extreme imbalance between imports and exports and a concomitant outflow of gold and silver specie. Attempting to find some way to deal with this crisis, in 1871 (Meiji 4), Wakayama Gi’ichi, an official in the Minbushō (Ministry of Popular Affairs), called for the introduction of protective tariffs, while Ōkubo Toshimichi and Inoue Kaoru also submitted a proposal calling for establishment of protec- tive tariffs plus the encouragement of domestic industry. In response to such developments, Tsuda published two essays in Meiroku zasshi: “Hogozei o hi to suru ron” (In Opposition to Protective Tariffs) in 1874 (Meiji 7), and “Bōeki kenkō ron” (On the Trade Balance) in 1875 (Meiji 8). In both, he rejected arguments for the introduction of protective tariffs on the grounds that the trade imbalance Japan was presently experiencing should not cause one to “worry groundlessly.”
Even though at times we may not avoid fluctuations in the comparative rates of imports and exports, an excess in one will never destroy the
equilibrium over the long run. This same principle operates during the seasons in which the equilibrium is never seriously upset even though we may not escape extremes in heat and cold or in winds and floods. This is a principle from which nature never deviates, namely, that the seasonal equilibrium is invariably maintained through recurring change . . . Exports and imports thus will never lose their equilibrium, as they circulate in accordance with the laws of nature, never ceasing recurrently to rise and fall. Such being the case, civilization will progress with advancing technology.128
According to Tsuda, free trade would gradually rectify the import–export imbalance and lead society as a whole toward civilization. These were the natural principles and laws (shizen no tenritsu 自然の天律) of economics. Moreover, the current excess of imports was an expression of the mentality of the people—“We possess minds that, by their characteristic innate nature, love novelty and enjoy colorful display”—a mentality that Tsuda argued was actually the driving force behind the quest for civilization.129 This approach is clearly a practical application of what Tsuda had learned from Vissering’s lec- tures. In his article, we can plainly see the image of an intellectual taking up the challenge of reforming domestic politics in the attempt to shape a more open society in the name of liberal economic principles grounded in individ- ual interests and the pursuit of individual happiness. Yet at the same time, we should not lose track of the fact that in late- nineteenth-century Japan, this position coexisted with the following perception of foreign relations. According to Tsuda, “Under existing conditions in the coun- try, our people have only peeped through the outer gates to the wonders of the West, without yet entering the inner halls of civilization.”130 Japan, in other words, had still not attained an adequate stage of civilization. But as the knowl- edge of the people progressed, the trade imbalance would naturally disappear, and in this sensethe present short-term losses were really only a kind of tuition fee paid against the future.131 This entire argument is steeped in a self-conception
128 Tsuda Mamichi, “Hogozei o hi to suru ron,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 1, 174–175; translated into English by William R. Braisted, assisted by Adachi Yasushi, and Kikuchi Yūji, 58–59. The word rendered “enlightenment” in Braisted’s translation has been replaced here with “civilization.” 129 Tsuda Mamichi, “Bōeki kenkō ron,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 2, 340; Braisted, 325. 130 Tsuda, “Hogozei o hi to suru ron,” 173; Braisted, 58. The word rendered “enlightenment” in Braisted’s translation has been replaced here with “civilization.” 131 Tsuda, “Hogozei o hi to suru ron,” 173–174; Braisted, 58.
Our country cannot freely introduce protective tariffs since our tariffs are established by treaties of commerce with the foreign nations. This is the first reason why protective theories cannot be implemented.132
In other words, since Japan has already lost its tariff autonomy as a result of agreeing to fixed tariffs in the commercial treaties it signed with the Western nations, there is little point in even considering protective tariffs. Thus Tsuda’s argument for free trade—that the expansion of relations with the Western nations based on free trade principles followed the laws of economics and would lead Japan to a higher level of civilization—was mediated by the per- ception that his own country still had far to travel along the road to civilization. This psychology was intimately and inextricably related to the logic that led him to conclude that Japan should, for the time being, shelve the idea of attempting to regain tariff autonomy as an aspect of its sovereignty. That Nishi, like Tsuda, stood firmly in the free trade camp can be seen in various of his writings, including his encyclopedia, Hyakugaku renkan. In this work, there is an entry entitled “Hogo no hō,” (Protective System) which he criticizes as “extremely obstructive to the economy and most worthy of being outlawed,” arguing instead for freedom of economic activity:
People should simply be free to pursue whatever type of business and independent livelihood they wish. There should be no obstacle to the common people working at whatever occupation they choose, be it farmer, artisan, or merchant.133
In a subsequent entry, “Seigen narabini kinsei no hō” (Restrictive and Prohibiting System) he writes similarly, stating “this refers to a situation in which one is concerned solely with one’s own national interests. This, too, is obstructive to the economy.” Nishi thus rejects both protective systems and restrictive and prohibiting systems on the grounds that they “are not in accord with principles in the field of political economy.”134
132 Tsuda, “Hogozei o hi to suru ron,” 171; Braisted, 57. 133 Nishi Amane, Hyakugaku renkan, in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 4, 284. 134 Ibid., 284.
In “Kaikanzei no setsu” (On Maritime Tariffs), an unfinished manuscript believed to have been written in 1875 (Meiji 8), Nishi approaches tariffs from the dual standpoints of political economy and international law, grounding his arguments in free trade theory. In this work, he points out that the problem of tariffs can be examined from three different perspectives: (1) the concern of the Home Ministry and Ministry of Popular Affairs with protective legislation; (2) the concern of the Finance Ministry with customs law; and (3) the concern of the Foreign Ministry with renegotiating tariffs with the Western powers.135 Of the three, the last has the least to do with the intrinsic nature of tariffs, but Nishi says that in Japan it has become the most important. Having established this classification, Nishi says that the first and second perspectives are issues of “political economy,” while the third has to do with “public international law.” Let us begin there. According to Nishi, the issue of “jurisdiction” is something that concerns not only Japan but all of the nations of Asia, including China and Turkey, and their relations with the Western nations. “It is not something which will be solved overnight.”136 The origins of the demands for consular jurisdiction that the Western powers have pressed upon the Asian countries are rooted in issues of race, religion, and modern legal institutions (or their absence).137 Because of this, the problem of consular jurisdiction is something where “skin color and religious teachings aside, we must reform our own legal system ourselves.”138 Without developing Japan’s domestic legal institutions and proceeding with the establishment of constitutional government, it will be impossible to achieve the restoration of equal legal rights in relation to the Western powers. This opinion seems firmly grounded in the sections of Vissering’s lectures on international law dealing with the equal rights of nations (Bankoku kōhō, Chapter 4, Sections 14–16).139 Yet here Nishi also cites a lengthy supplementary note on consular jurisdiction added to Wheaton’s Elements of International Law by its editor, William Beach Lawrence.140 The relevant portion of it con- tains an explanation of the arrangements for consular jurisdiction in treaties concluded between the United States and Turkey, China, and Japan.141 The note, which Nishi quotes from the English original, is appended to the portion
135 Nishi Amane, “Kaikanzei no setsu,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 413. 136 Ibid., 415. 137 Ibid., 415–416. 138 Ibid., 416. 139 Vissering, Bankoku kōhō, in Nishi Amane zenshū 2: 25–26. 140 Wheaton, Elements of International Law, 167–174. 141 Ibid., 173–174.
However, as this is still not possible at present, academic discussion of it will avail nothing; it is a matter that cannot be understood by those not actually in a position to deal with it directly.143
Thus Nishi too believed that the issue of tariff autonomy must be shelved for practical reasons, preempting any academic discussion of it from the stand- point of “political economy.” And here he put down his pen, leaving the manu- script of “Kaikanzei no setsu” unfinished. As we have seen, through the medium of the liberal economic theories rooted in natural laws that they learned from Vissering, Nishi and Tsuda advo- cated the expansion of relations with the civilized nations on the basis of free trade. At the same time they saw their own country as less developed and therefore had to accept the reality of the limitations placed on its rights as a sovereign state by the loss of tariff autonomy and the consular jurisdiction imposed by Japan’s treaties with the Western powers. This might also be regarded as an application of Vissering’s discourse on international law.
142 Nishi, “Kaikanzei no setsu,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 415. 143 Ibid., 416.
It emphasized international relations and commerce among civilized nations with constitutional systems established under the aegis of “European interna- tional law,” and therefore argued that treaties between civilized and semi- civilized states, or between Western and non-Western nations, must embody inequalities. Of course, as Nishi pointed out, while Vissering’s lectures saw the demand for consular jurisdiction as legitimated by the interest of the European nations in protecting their citizens overseas, they also taught that tariff auton- omy was a fundamental right of a sovereign state. Because of this, it should have been possible to argue, from the perspective of the non-Western nations, that Western demands for free trade were incompatible and inconsistent with the loss of tariff autonomy they were also attempting to impose on Japan and other nations. But even if Nishi and Tsuda saw this as problematic from the perspective of the international law, in the end they accepted it as an incontro- vertible reality. If this reality were to be altered, it would have to be from the perspective of political economy—and so they advocated the promotion of free trade as a strategy for advancing Japan’s progress toward civilization.
Nishi and Tsuda’s Foreign Policy Positions (2): Interior Travel The particular nature of Nishi and Tsuda’s intellectual enterprise emerges with even greater clarity in their response to another important topic of debate in their day: the question of whether foreigners should be permitted to reside and/or travel throughout Japan rather than having their activities confined to the ports and cities that had been opened to foreign trade and residence. In July 1873 (Meiji 6), representatives of the Western powers presented the Meiji government with demands for greater freedom of travel outside the foreign concessions. During the course of the next year they would aggressively press for freedom of interior travel and business transactions, using free trade as the rationale. In response to this, in December 1874 (Meiji 7), Tsuda published an essay titled “Naichi ryokō ron” (Travel by Foreigners within the Country) in issue 24 of Meiroku zasshi. Tsuda alludes to “those who now state belligerently that travel by foreigners within the country should never be allowed until we have recovered the twin rights of judicial and fiscal independence,” but disagrees, asking “How can we call wise such futile discussion of what cannot be practiced?”144 From his point of view, this approach was completely backward. Why? Because “foreign intercourse is natural . . . it could not be denied by
144 Tsuda Mamichi, “Naichi ryokō ron,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 2, 289; Braisted, 301.
The provisions that we desire most to revise in the treaties are those that would secure for us the two rights of judicial and tax independence. Unless a country possesses both these rights in their entirety, its indepen- dence is necessarily prejudiced. Yet under the present conditions in our country, we are not yet able to exert the rights even though we may agi- tate vigorously for them. I believe that some years will be required before our country can gain the two rights completely.147
Tsuda himself wishes to see the unequal treaties revised, but believes that in light of Japan’s present situation such an outcome is years in the future. Rather, by permitting interior travel by foreigners now, “the general increase in the civilization and knowledge of our people in the ten years following the unre- stricted opening of the country to travel should be almost beyond our imagina- tion.”148 And the end result?
According to my estimate of the matter, in resolutely opening the country to travel by foreigners lies the achievement for the empire of a position of unrestricted independence in the world through the acquisition of the two rights of fiscal and judicial independence that, of course, we deeply desire.149
In like manner, Nishi Amane was also a vocal supporter of allowing internal travel by foreigners, notably in a speech, “Naichi ryokō” (Travel by Foreigners within the Country), delivered on 16 November 1874 (Meiji 7) and published in issue 23 (December 1874) of Meiroku zasshi. Nishi introduces the issue of inter- nal travel in this article and says:
145 Tsuda, “Naichi ryokō ron,” 286; Braisted, 299. 146 Tsuda, “Naichi ryokō ron,” 285; Braisted, 299. The word rendered “enlightenment” in Braisted’s translation has been replaced here with “civilization.” 147 Tsuda, “Naichi ryokō ron,” 283; Braisted, 298. 148 Tsuda, “Naichi ryokō ron,” 288; Braisted, 300. The word rendered “enlightenment” in Braisted’s translation has been replaced here with “civilization.” 149 Tsuda, “Naichi ryokō ron,” 288–289; Braisted, 300–301.
The situation is the same as when [the British minister] Mr. Parkes brought pumpkins from his country and invited us to try them since they were tasty and healthful. Just as we did not know before eating them whether these admittedly rare fruits were flavorous or good for our stom- achs, it is a fact that we do not know whether allowing foreigners to travel within the country will be beneficial.150
On these grounds, Nishi argues that “a method of logical analysis” should be employed to analyze the “benefits and injuries” of such a policy. Nishi begins with “the deductive method,” and describes internal travel by foreigners as one segment along a great circle path toward “friendly foreign relations” initiated in the final years of the Tokugawa period. He argues that “the seven years since the Restoration is a period during which even the body of our nation is said to have completely changed from its bones,” and that it is not, as many argued, too early to implement internal travel.151 Nishi then approaches the problem using what he calls “the inductive method,” and enu- merates specific benefits and injuries that might result. He cites as possible “negative” consequences of permitting internal travel fears that foreigners will engage in trade in the interior or that disputes will arise between them and local people. But Nishi argues that “treaties containing detailed stipulations” can be concluded to deal in a legal manner with any difficulties and infractions that may arise.152 From this point of view, Nishi arrives at a conclusion quite similar to Tsuda’s:
Some may say that our judicial power, having entirely different “jurisdic- tion,” does not extend to foreigners, that we have not the power to modify the tariff, and that foreigners are crafty and dictatorial. Yet it may be con- cluded that we cannot oppose foreigners by force if we do not establish our national independence after introducing necessary reform.153
“European public law”—the international system centered on the civilized nations of the West—serves as the foundation of contemporary international society, and at present the East Asian nation of Japan has not reached the stage where it can demand from the Western powers the elimination of the system of consular jurisdiction and the restoration of tariff autonomy. Because of this,
150 Nishi Amane, “Naichi ryokō,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 2, 259–261; Braisted, 287. 151 Nishi, “Naichi ryokō,” 265; Braisted, 288–289. 152 Nishi, “Naichi ryokō,” 267–270; Braisted, 291–292. 153 Nishi, “Naichi ryokō,” 271; Braisted, 293.
The Meiroku zasshi Debates How were Tsuda and Nishi’s views on foreign policy received by other contem- porary intellectuals? After Nishi presented his speech “Naichi ryokō” (Travel by Foreigners within the Country) at a public forum sponsored by the Meirokusha on 16 November 1874 (Meiji 7), a heated debate over the issues of internal travel and free trade ensued in the pages of Meiroku zasshi. In addition to a transcript of Nishi’s speech, Issue 23 (December 1874) of Meiroku zasshi carried Kanda Takahira’s “Shōkin gaishutsu tansoku roku (kahei shiroku no ni)” (Regrets on the Exports of Specie: The Second of Four Essays on Currency) and Nakamura Masanao’s “Seigaku ippan (dai roppen)” (An Outline of Western Culture [Continued]), while the following Issue 24 (also December 1874) featured Tsuda Mamichi’s “Naichi ryokō ron” (Travel by Foreigners within the Country) and Sugi Kōji’s “Bōeki kaisei ron” (On Reforming Trade).154 Issue 26 (January
154 Although Kanda and Sugi were close friends and colleagues of Nishi and Tsuda from the Bansho Shirabesho era, they expressed doubts regarding Nishi and Tsuda’s perspective on concrete economic policies. Their argument, however, had the character of a moderate and gradualist policy proposal and was not necessarily a direct attack on the positions taken by Nishi and Tsuda. Sugi emphasized that, at least in the conditions pertaining in Japan, balanced trade could not be left completely to “the principles of nature” and must be achieved by selecting two or three commodities for protection; only thus could the path to “true free trade” be opened (“Bōeki kaisei ron,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 2). Kanda
1875) ran Tsuda’s “Bōeki kenkō ron” (On the Trade Balance) and Fukuzawa Yukichi’s “Naichi ryokō Nishi sensei no setsu o bakusu” (Refuting Nishi’s Discussion of Travel by Foreigners in the Country). And Issue 29 (February 1875) carried an essay by Nishimura Shigeki, “Jiyū bōeki ron” (On Free Trade). In these debates in Meiroku zasshi, Nakamura Masanao was, along with Nishi and Tsuda, a consistent advocate for and defender of free trade. In Issue 23 of Meiroku zasshi he presented the sixth installment of a serialization of his translation and adaptation of an article by Dugald Stewart that originally appeared in the eighth edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica (Edinburgh, 1853–60), dealing with European philosophy since the Renaissance. In this article, Nakamura cites David Hume’s critique of Francis Bacon to introduce a clear argument in support of free trade. Opposing regulation of sale or pricing of goods, Nakamura writes, “These are matters that should be left to the free will of the people and the natural course of trade,” and later, “to let nature take its course, therefore, is good medicine to eliminate paupery and the high road to national prosperity.”155 As this was merely an installment in an ongoing seri- alization, it may have been completely coincidental that this essay appeared in the same issue as Nishi’s speech on internal travel. But in a foreword to Hayashi Masaaki’s Keizai benmo (a translation of Frédéric Bastiat’s Sophismes économiques), Nakamura had also proclaimed that “the way of economics is determined by the forces of nature, like water.” He opposed the introduction of “protectionist laws” on the grounds that “opposing the forces of nature” by will- fully “defending old ruts and losing sight of new benefits” was something no “intelligent person” would do.156
This book was written by the Frenchman Bastiat, who argues against pro- tectionist tariffs primarily from the standpoint of free trade. His discourse is forthright and bold; his analysis of benefit and harm, profit and loss is like sunlight entering the darkness of a cave; wielding the truth he demol- ishes delusion and enlightens the public.157
As we saw in Chapter 3 of this book, Vissering’s approach to political economy was greatly influenced by the work of Bastiat, and like Nishi and Tsuda,
also suggested the implementation of various practical strategies, while maintaining the overall framework of free trade (“Seikin gaishutsu tansoku roku,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 2). 155 Nakamura Masanao, “Seigaku ippan” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 2, 278–279; Braisted 296. For Nakamura’s “Seigaku ippan,” see Ōkubo Takeharu, “Meiji Enlightenment to Nakamura Keiu.” 156 Nakamura Masanao, “Keizai benmō jo,” in Keiu bunshū, Book 3, vol. 7. 157 Ibid., 3.
Nakamura appears to arrive at a positive embrace of free trade theory from this source. Yet at the same time, the view of “nature” underlying Nakamura’s free trade argument was based, as we noted in the preceding section, on an understand- ing of bankoku kōhō (international law) as a set of norms unifying all nations into an international order grounded in “natural law” (性法 seihō) and “heav- enly principle” (天理 tenri). In contrast, for Nishi and Tsuda bankoku kōhō was practically speaking none other than European international law. They acknowledged free trade as a natural principle from an empirically grounded scientific perspective. This also led them to believe that in terms of the European international law that civilization had created among the Western nations through the progress of free trade, Japan was still little more than a backward and peripheral nation, and would have to resign itself to accepting the unequal treaties. It is at this point that we see an immense difference in the perceptions of free trade and international law held by Nakamura on the one hand and Nishi and Tsuda on the other.
Fukuzawa Yukichi on International Relations Yet it was Fukuzawa Yukichi who mounted a more fundamental critique of Nishi and Tsuda’s views, including their understanding of international law. Fukuzawa wrote two editorials clearly intended as a critique of Nishi’s essay on internal travel by foreigners. The first was “Gaikokujin no naichi zakkyo yurusu bekarazaru no ron” (An argument against permitting mixed residence in the interior by foreigners), published in Minkan zasshi vol. 6, no. 21. The second was “Naichi ryokō Nishi sensei no setsu o bakusu” (Refuting Nishi’s Discussion of Travel by Foreigners in the Country), published in Issue 26 (January 1875) of Meiroku zasshi. Fukuzawa speaks of his motivation for writing these essays in the opening paragraph of the essay for Meiroku zasshi:
After hearing Nishi’s speech on travel by foreigners in the country, I also published my views in the sixth issue of the Minkan zasshi. This publica- tion, however, was not particularly directed against Nishi’s views. Having later seen the text of Nishi’s speech in the Meiroku zasshi, I feel increas- ingly that we differ in our points of view, and thus I would now refute his opinions as follows.158
158 Fukuzawa Yukichi, “Naichi ryokō Nishi sensei no setsu o bakusu,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 2, 327; Braisted, 319.
Both of Fukuzawa’s essays were critical of Nishi’s position, arguing that permit- ting travel and residence by foreigners in the interior of the country was pre- mature. His reasoning can be summarized into three main points. First, Fukuzawa takes up the topic of “foreign intercourse” that was at the heart of the debate, seeing it as having two dimensions, not one: the “tangible results” of the “intercourse with foreigners that has taken place since the open- ing of the ports and the trade and commerce that has occasioned such immense changes in our country’s economy”; and the “intangible results” of “the ele- ments of civilization that have gradually permeated the minds of the people of the realm, creating a wind that has swept away the old and swept in the new.”159 Internal travel by foreigners belongs to the tangible aspects of foreign inter- course. According to Fukuzawa, the influence of “the intangible spirit of the elements of civilization” is indispensable to Japan’s progress, but the “tangible” aspects of foreign intercourse such as trade and commerce “are harmful rather than beneficial to our nation.”160 Even if one were to limit “tangible” inter- course to the situation pertaining at present, “the intangible spirit of the ele- ments of civilization” are such that “once having been transmitted they disperse, and can travel a thousand leagues of distance in an instant.”161 By proposing this framework of tangible and intangible dimensions, Fukuzawa can argue without contradicting himself—at least theoretically—for the active assimilation of Western science and thought while at the same time rejecting internal travel and residence by foreigners as premature. Fukuzawa was critical of “the opinion of several great scholars” like Nishi Amane who argued that “the influence of foreign intercourse on the civilization of our country has been beneficial; that the further expansion of that intercourse can only lead to greater benefits; and that therefore travel by foreigners in the inte- rior should absolutely be permitted.”162 For Fukuzawa, these arguments end in incoherence because they confuse the two different dimensions of foreign relations that he has posited. Having established this foundation for debate in the article in Minkan zasshi, Fukuzawa focuses more direct criticism on Nishi’s position in his “Refuting Nishi’s Discussion of Travel by Foreigners in the Country” for Meiroku zasshi. According to Fukuzawa, Nishi’s first mistake is in comparing the issue of internal travel by foreigners to Minister Parkes’s pumpkin. For one thing, it
159 Fukuzawa Yukichi, “Gaikokujin no naichi zakkyo yurusu bekarazaru no ron,” in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 19, 518. 160 Ibid., 521. 161 Ibid., 522. 162 Ibid., 521.
…our people are not familiar with such matters, are ignorant and without courage in them; the policies of our government are irresolute and their defense of private assets insufficient; our judicial system is inadequately regulated and many people are oppressed by it; our government is des- potic and holds the people in contempt, yet no one in it is capable of great enterprise.164
The biggest problem of all was the “listless and powerless” character of the people. Earlier Nishi had given as grounds for active implementation of foreign travel in the interior the assertion that “the seven years since the Restoration is a period during which even the body of our nation is said to have completely changed from its bones.” But Fukuzawa rejected this, writing “There has been a renewal of the bone structure during the last seven years, but the people’s spirit undoubtedly remains as before.”165 “Since,” Fukuzawa argued, “the peo- ple were no more than powerless and unfeeling pebbles under the autocratic bakufu [the Tokugawa government], they could not have either course or
163 Fukuzawa, “Naichi ryokō,” 327–329; Braisted, 319–320. 164 Fukuzawa, “Gaikokujin no naichi zakkyo,” in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 19, 519. 165 Fukuzawa, “Naichi ryokō,” 331; Braisted, 321.
At this point, Nishi’s opinion differs entirely from mine. It is my belief that, if these stipulations were useful, there would be no anxiety from the outset. Unpleasant though it may be, we must reflect on the saying, “power is right [sic].”169
In other words, in the final analysis, foreign relations come down to a matter of power, and power determines what is right. Nishi, he suggests, regards the world too naively. What Nishi and Tsuda learned from Vissering concerning
166 Fukuzawa, “Gaikokujin no naichi zakkyo,” in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 19, 519–520, 524. 167 Fukuzawa, “Naichi ryokō,” 334; Braisted, 322. 168 Fukuzawa, “Naichi ryokō,” 336; Braisted, 322–323. 169 Fukuzawa, “Naichi ryokō,” 336–337; Braisted, 324.
Revisiting the Tenth Chapter of Bunmeiron no gairyaku Bunmeiron no gairyaku has been the subject of considerable prior research and discussion.170 The reason we pause to reconsider it here is because in it Fukuzawa defines civilization in the following terms:
Civilization thus describes the process by which society gradually changes for the better and takes on a definite shape. It is a concept of a unified nation in contrast to a state of primitive isolation and lawlessness.171
In other words, it is society and social intercourse (jinkan kōsai 人間交際) that is proclaimed to be not only the motive force of civilization, but also the
170 For prior research on Fukuzawa Yukichi’s Bunmeiron no gairyaku, see Maruyama Masao, “Kindai Nihon ni okeru kokka risei no mondai,” and “Bunmeiron no gairyaku o yomu”; Matsuzawa Hiroaki, Kindai Nihon no keisei to Seiyō keiken, Hiraishi Naoaki, “Fukuzawa Yukichi no senryaku kōsō”; Miyamura Haruo, Shintei Nihon seiji shisō shi, Chapter 13. 171 Fukuzawa Yukichi, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 57; translated into English by David A. Dilworth and G. Cameron Hurst III, 46.
And even when there are grounds for litigation over some business dealing, to press charges one must go to one of the five ports, where one’s case will be decided by their judges. Since in these circumstances it is impossible to obtain justice, people say to one another that, rather than press charges, it is better to swallow one’s anger and be submissive.173
The result is that the presence of foreigners degrades the behavior of the Japanese who come into contact them: “Those who are eager for profit stumble over one another to fawn on them,” and “a kind of coarseness in sensibilities follows them about.” Fukuzawa says that he shares the sentiments expressed in this essay by Obata, and warns that if the present situation continues, “the conduct of our citizens cannot help but deteriorate day by day.”174
172 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 281–282; Dilworth and Hurst III, 241. 173 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 282; Dilworth and Hurst III, 241. 174 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 283; Dilworth and Hurst III, 241–242.
Moreover, Fukuzawa looks at the realities of Western colonial domination of the non-Western world and observes, “Wherever the Europeans touch, the land withers up, as it were; the plants and the trees stop growing. Sometimes even whole populations have been wiped out.”175 He lists “Persia, India, Siam, Luzon, Java” and asks what the consequences have been in these areas of the Western colonialism that even now reaches toward East Asia. He predicts that “if future developments can be conjectured, China too will certainly become nothing but a garden for Europeans.”176 Nor is Japan likely to be an exception. The historian of political thought Miyamura Haruo has read in these obser- vations of Fukuzawa’s a self-conscious awareness of the dissonance between two processes of civilization that appear throughout the text of Bunmeiron no gairyaku.177 In Miyamura’s analysis, on the one hand Fukuzawa understands civilization to be a process by which humanity frees itself from subservience and dependence upon nature and society. But he also depicts it as the process of formation of a political community that establishes a unified nation-state from what had been conditions of barbarism and lawlessness. Naturally, throughout the book, these two perspectives on civilization are posed as oper- ating in relation to one another, mediated by the notion that civilization may be called the progress of human wisdom and virtue. Yet at the same time, Fukuzawa understood that the relationship between “politics” and “civiliza- tion” possessed certain contradictory elements. And according to Miyamura, it was precisely this realization that led Fukuzawa to reexamine the order of pri- orities and the correlation between these two perspectives on civilization in the context of “the independence of Japan as nation-state” and thus to write the tenth chapter of Bunmeiron no gairyaku.178 In addition, as Matsuzawa Hiroaki has observed, Fukuzawa’s profound insight concerning the nature of civilization was spun out of the struggle “not merely to assimilate and utilize the Western discourse on civilization,” as represented by such works as Buckle’s History of Civilization in England or Guizot’s Histoire de la civilisation en Europe, “but the necessity of achieving independence from it.”179 One of the main themes of Bunmeiron no gairyaku is Fukuzawa’s encounter with these great works and his exploration of the question “What is civilization?” According to Matsuzawa, in order to conceive of a theory of civilization in Japan, Fukuzawa had to overcome the unilinear
175 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 291; Dilworth and Hurst III, 249. 176 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 291; Dilworth and Hurst III, 248. 177 Miyamura, Shintei Nihon seiji shisōshi, 240–245. 178 Ibid., 245. 179 Matsuzawa, Kindai Nihon no keisei to Seiyō keiken, 319–342.
While it is true that primitive peoples hate foreigners, the reason this is so lies not with the primitives themselves but with these foreigners who call themselves civilized.180
Fukuzawa clearly perceived the reality that Western “civilization” itself, medi- ated through the patriotism and partisanship of the nation-state (as a political community), had shifted in the direction of a barbaric and predatory aggres- sion against the non-Western world. This formed the foundation for his critical analysis of Western theories of civilization and their attitudes towards Asia. More than anything else, as Matsuzawa makes clear, this perception was inseparably intertwined with Fukuzawa’s critique of contemporary Japanese Western-studies intellectuals such as Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi. From Fukuzawa’s perspective, these intellectuals seemed intoxicated by Western theories of civilization to the extent that they accepted the imagery of Asiatic stagnation and understood Japanese society within that framework.181 In fact, if we return to Chapter 10 of Bunmeiron no gairyaku, we find that Fukuzawa directly criticizes the scholars who, in the face of the critical inter- national context surrounding Japan at the time, persist in proclaiming the vir- tues of international law and free trade.
Again, certain scholars hold that, since foreign relations are based on uni- versal justice (tenchi no kōdō 天地の公道) and men are not necessarily intent on exploiting others, nations should trade freely, ply back and forth freely, and merely let nature take its course.182
Yet from Fukuzawa’s point of view, “This is unbelievably loose thinking. Crudely speaking, it is thinking worthy of a naïve simpleton.”183 In a textual note in his modern edition of Bunmeiron no gairyaku, Matsuzawa Hiroaki points out that the phrase “universal justice (tenchi no kōdō 天地の公道)…was, along with bankoku kohō, widely used throughout the late Tokugawa and early Meiji
180 Fukuzawa Yukichi, “Oboegaki,” in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 7, 661. 181 Matsuzawa, Kindai Nihon no keisei to Seiyō keiken, 310–319, 376–381. 182 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 292; Dilworth and Hurst III, 249–250. 183 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 293; Dilworth and Hurst III, 250.
Have the Western nations not made contacts with Japan in accord with universal justice? Therefore we must be willing to respond to them and by no means turn them down.186
However, reality is totally different from this empty ideal.
As long as there are countries which set up national governments, there can be no way to eliminate their self-interests. If there is no way to elimi- nate their self-interests, then we too must have our self-interests in any contacts with them.187
Given this situation, what is to be done to deal with the issue of foreign rela- tions, which according to Fukuzawa, “have become the great affliction of Japan”?
The first order of the day is to have the country of Japan and the people of Japan exist, and then and only then speak about civilization! There is no use talking about Japanese civilization if there is no country and no people.188
The quest for civilization first of all requires national independence. If the Western nations are going to conduct international relations based on their own “self-interest,” then Japan too must encourage the spirit of patriotism among its people, which Fukuzawa defines thus:
Men who attempt to extend the rights of their own nation, to enrich the people of their own nation, to educate them morally and intellectually,
184 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 293; Edited by Matsuzawa Hiroaki. 185 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 281; Dilworth and Hurst III, 240. 186 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 293; Dilworth and Hurst III, 250. 187 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 293–294; Dilworth and Hurst III, 250–251. 188 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 298; Dilworth and Hurst III, 254–255.
and to make the glory of their country shine forth, are called patriots, and their spirit, patriotism.189
Even the “moral ties” of the former feudal society can be mobilized to this end:
Such values as loyalty between lord and subject, ancestral tradition, moral obligation between superiors and inferiors, and the distinction between the main trunk and the branches are aspects of human conduct to be esteemed; in other words, because they are means of civilization there are no grounds for condemning them. However, whether they ben- efit or harm social affairs depends entirely on how they are used. Generally speaking, people do not harbor the evil intention of selling out their country, and therefore there are none who do not wish to contribute to their country’s welfare.190
As we have seen, Fukuzawa felt the threat posed by Japan’s foreign relations and perceived the tensions that existed between the ideals of civilization and independence. By restricting his discussion to the immediate goal of Japan’s independence as a nation, he could argue for the necessity of employing as “means of civilization” (文明の方便 bunmei no hōben) even the moral bonds still remaining from feudal times in order to foster the patriotism of the popu- lace. His assertion that “generally speaking, people do not harbor the evil intention of selling out their country” actually gives one the impression he may have sensed such implications lurking in the views of Nishi and his circle.
Nakamura Masanao, Fukuzawa Yukichi, and Nishi and Tsuda How should we understand and interpret the debate outlined in the preceding pages? For it is a quite complex matter, concerned not only with the issues of inte- rior travel by foreigners and of free trade, but also with fundamental perceptions of the nature of international law. On the basis of the foregoing discussion, however, it may be possible to interpret Nishi and Tsuda, Nakamura Masanao, and Fukuzawa Yukichi as occupying three discrete points in a triangle of opposing views. In Gakumon no susume, especially the first chapter (published in February 1872 / Meiji 5) and ninth chapter (May 1874 / Meiji 7), Fukuzawa expressed views on the equality of nations based on inherent laws and principles of Heaven and humanity (tenri jindō 天理人道) that suggest an understanding of international law similar to that of Nakamura Masanao. Yet by the end of 1874
189 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 274–275; Dilworth and Hurst III, 235. 190 Fukuzawa, Bunmeiron no gairyaku, 304; Dilworth and Hurst III, 259.
(Meiji 7) he was criticizing Nishi’s speech on travel in the interior and by the time of Bunmeiron no gairyaku, published in 1875 (Meiji 8), he was writing that in international relations, “power is right.”191 Thus, it would seem that Fukuzawa’s understanding of international law underwent considerable rever- sal as his perception of the threat from abroad deepened. Nevertheless, from the perspective of Nishi and Tsuda, who had learned European international law from Vissering’s lectures, both of these apparently contradictory postures must have seemed little more than the opposite sides of the same coin. Namely, Nishi and Tsuda had learned from Vissering that in reality, international law meant European public law, and the rights of sover- eign states can be brought to realization only when they have adopted the rules of international law. This led them to the conclusion that Japan, in its present state, was not in a position to participate equally as a civilized nation honoring European international law (taisei kōhō no dōmei 泰西公法の同盟). From their point of view, both the assertion that all nations possess equal rights grounded in the laws and principles of Heaven and humanity (tenri jindō 天理人道), as well as the critique of this position for being shallow and naive because no such principles exist in international society and only might makes right, only appear to be contradictory stances. In fact, they are merely opposite expressions of a very similar desire to see international law as possessing a universal normative value shared by all nations. Considered in these terms, while Fukuzawa and Nakamura seem to have contrasting perceptions of inter- national politics, to Nishi and Tsuda, Fukuzawa and Nakamura’s discourses on international law must have seemed quite similar, albeit with some variation in their depth of commitment to its values. In this respect, it is possible to dis- criminate between the position of Tsuda and Nishi on the one hand, and those of Fukuzawa and Nakamura on the other. Yet it is also possible to conceive of an axis of opposition with Tsuda, Nishi, and Nakamura located at one pole and Fukuzawa at the other. As we have seen, in Bunmeiron no gairyaku Fukuzawa offers direct criticism of “certain scholars” who insisted that international relations are based on universal jus- tice and law and that nations should trade freely according to the course of
191 Of course it would be one-sided to interpret this merely as a shift in intellectual orienta- tion on Fukuzawa’s part. Even in Gakumon no susume, Fukuzawa declared that “If we Japanese begin to pursue learning with spirit and energy, so as to achieve personal inde- pendence and thereby enrich and strengthen the nation, why should we fear the Powers of the West?”(Gakumon no susume, 32–33; Dilworth and Hirano, 20.). Albeit with differ- ences in shading and emphasis, we may regard this as Fukuzawa’s consistent perspective on the nature of power in international politics.
7 Regarding Asia: Tsuda Mamichi and the Sino-Japanese Treaty of Amity
As Vissering observed in his lectures on diplomatic history at Leiden University, from the sixteenth century onward, as the Republic of the United Netherlands and Great Britain laid the foundations for their development as maritime pow- ers, the modern European international system was also in the process of for- mation as European international law took shape through the Treaty of Utrecht and other agreements and conventions. It was in this context that the Dutch vessel De Liefde was driven ashore on the coast of Bungo Province in 1600 and trade relations commenced between Japan and the Netherlands in 1609. However, from the mid-seventeenth to the mid-nineteenth centuries, despite the continuation of trade and commerce with the Netherlands through the Dutch trading station established at Dejima in Nagasaki harbor, the Tokugawa shogunate placed Japan in an international environment that was isolated from the development of European public law. When, after these historical developments, Nishi and Tsuda set out to study in the Netherlands in
Tsuda Mamichi and the Sino-Japanese Treaty of Amity The Sino-Japanese Treaty of Amity signed in 1871 (Meiji 4) was the first interna- tional agreement concluded between Japan and the Qing Empire, as the two states had previously had no formal diplomatic relations during the Tokugawa shogunate’s policy of national seclusion, only limited private-sector trade rela- tions. It was also “the first modern international treaty signed voluntarily and on a basis of equality between two non-Western nations”192—an important event that spoke eloquently of the transformation that was taking place in the East Asian international order. In the period since the opening of the ports, Japan had been groping its way towards a new configuration of its relations
192 Xu Yueting, “Nisshin Shūkō jōki no seiritsu, 1,” 171. For previous scholarship on the Sino- Japanese Treaty of Amity, see Xu, “Nisshin shūkō jōki no seiritsu, 2”; Matsuzawa, Kindai Nihon no keisei to Seiyō keiken; Fujimura Michio, “Meiji ishin gaikō no kyū kokusai kankei e no taiō,” and “Meiji shonen ni okeru Asia seisaku no shūsei to Chūgoku”; Morita Yoshihiko, “Nisshin shūkō jōki teiketsu kōshō ni okeru Nihon no ito” and “Tsuda Mamichi to kokusai seiji”; Okamoto Takashi and Kawashima Shin, eds., Chūgoku kindai gaikō no taido.
193 Motegi Toshio, Henyō suru kindai higashi Asia no kokusai chitsujō, 63.
194 “Nihon · Shinkoku shūkō boeki wayaku shōtei,” in the collection of Waseda University library. 195 See Matsuzawa, Kindai nihon no shisō keisei to Seiyō keiken, chapter 2; Morita Yoshihiko, “Nakura Nobuatsu to Nisshin ‘shin kankei’ no mosaku.” 196 Fujimura, “Meiji shonen ni okeru Asia seisaku no shūsei to Chūgoku,” 20–21. 197 Nagai Hideo, “Fujimura Michio, ‘Nisshin sensō zengo no Asia seisaku’,” 77.
When I accompanied Lord Date on the mission to China and we entered Peking from Tientsin, Lord Date wore a konōshi bestowed upon him by the emperor, and I was clothed in eboshi and hitatare. The Chinese from Prime Minister Li down viewed our attire with extreme jealousy. Now in my opinion, Manchu robes far surpass in convenience Chinese clothing since the three dynasties. Yet the Chinese still yearn for their old raiment. How stupid this is! Why have they not stopped even today from harboring a feeling of hatred for the change in clothing and hairdress forced upon them by the Aisin Gioro? Years ago while still young, I sailed to Europe by the Cape of Good Hope. My ship on the return trip stopped in Hong Kong. And when I vis- ited the Dutch consulate, the consul was clothed in a gold-embroidered uniform that closely resembled our present full court dress. In some won- der, I asked the reason since I had never seen such garments worn in Europe except by ambassadors, military officers, or members of the nobility such as dukes, counts, and viscounts. The consul smilingly replied that the barbarian peoples of Asia would not recognize the high
198 Morita, “Nisshin shūkō jōki teiketsu kōshō ni okeru Nihon no ito,” 71.
station of the consul of Holland if he failed to wear such attire. I too smiled and then departed.199
The Qing Empire was established when the Manchus overthrew the Ming dynasty and imposed their own rule over China. Among other things, they banned the traditional Chinese court dress, replacing it with their own simpler garments. Yet two centuries later a political culture lingered among Chinese officials of the Qing government that carried a nostalgia for the digni- fied and imposing dress of the ancient court. As one of the members of the official embassy of Japanese government, Tsuda participates in negotia- tions with the Qing government wearing full traditional Japanese court dress such as eboshi and hitatare, yet laughs up his sleeve at the Chinese officials for their stupidity in “yearning for their old raiment.” On the other hand, he joins the Dutch consul in chuckling over “the barbarian peoples of Asia” who would not be impressed by his high station if he did not wear a gaudy uniform. Moreover it is clear that these two personal experiences formed an indelible associational bond in Tsuda’s mind. This would seem to be indicative of the quite complex and ambivalent psychological attitude with which he regarded both Europe and East Asia. Tsuda’s experience of China and the West stands in stark contrast to that of the Confucian scholars Nakamura and Nakura. Presenting a treaty draft that was essentially a copy of the unequal treaty concluded between Prussia and China may have been an expression of this mentality. In Tsuda’s remarks, we can see an archetypical example of a psychology and perception of foreign relations typical in modern Japan. Shortly after concluding the Anglo-Japanese Treaty of Commerce and Naviga tion in 1894 (Meiji 27) that revised the inequalities of the previous treaty and ended consular jurisdiction, Japan plunged into war with China, with a declara- tion of war emphasizing its intent to observe the rules of international law (the law of nations):
We hereby declare war against China, and we command each and all our competent authorities, in obedience to our wish and with a view to the attainment of the national aim, to carry on hostilities by sea and by land against China, with all the means at their disposal, consistently with the law of nations.200
199 Tsuda Mamichi, “Fukushōron,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 1, 274–275; Braisted, 103–104. 200 “Shinkoku ni taisuru sensen no mikotonori” in Murakami Shigeyoshi, ed., Seibun kundoku kindai shōchoku shū, 159.
With this, of course, the Sino-Japanese Treaty of Amity became a dead letter. And this new stage of Japan’s entry into the “league of European international law” would also occasion the creation of a new periphery in the East Asian world. The scrupulous pledge to observe the law of nations, or international law, that we see in the declaration of war against China in 1894 was repeated in the declarations of war against Russia in 1904 (Meiji 37) and against Germany in 1914 (Taishō 3). Yet in the declaration of war against the United States and the British Empire in 1941 (Shōwa 16), the reference to the law of nations disap- pears, replaced with the vow that “the entire nation with a united will shall mobilize their total strength so that nothing will miscarry in the attainment of Our war aims.”201 Thus, for modern Japan, from the late Tokugawa period through the defeat in World War II, and in the postwar period down to the present, the issue of how to perceive and interpret international law has been one of the most consistent and serious themes in the history of political thought. Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi’s work to bring the ideas and knowl- edge of international law in Europe to Japan still stands at the point of depar- ture for that journey.
201 On the four declarations of war, see Miyamura Haruo, “Tennōsei no isan.”
This book has depicted the dawn and early development of modern Japanese political thought in the late nineteenth century as it was informed by the importation, via the Netherlands, of European discourses on scholarship, law, and political institutions. This moment in Japanese intellectual history was simultaneously the high-water mark of the early modern tradition of Rangaku, or Dutch learning, and a new point of departure for the assimilation of the modern Western humanities and social sciences. The earliest efforts to secure knowledge of Western legal institutions were initiated in the first half of the nineteenth century under shogunal senior councilor Mizuno Tadakuni, who ordered translations of the Dutch constitution, penal code, and codes of civil and criminal procedure. But the results of this were extremely limited. Systematic and broadly based understanding of Western jurisprudence and political economy would await the arrival of Commodore Perry’s black ships, and then proceed with remarkable swiftness. One of the major contributions to this advancement of knowledge was the study mission to the Netherlands of Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi in 1863–65, a few years before the collapse of the Tokugawa shogunate. During their sojourn in Leiden, Nishi and Tsuda undertook a comprehen- sive study of natural law, international law, constitutional law, political econ- omy, and statistics, and were also exposed to the empiricist tendencies of contemporary Dutch scholarship, which were in turn influenced by the posi- tivism of Auguste Comte and the logic of John Stuart Mill. After their return to Japan, Nishi and Tsuda attempted to put their newly gained knowledge to work amidst the years of turmoil surrounding the Meiji Restoration of 1868. They had learned from Vissering the mechanisms of European constitutional gov- ernment and the theory of legal rights, and as the Tokugawa shogunate headed toward collapse, Nishi and Tsuda, serving as members the shogun’s political brains trust, attempted to draw up plans for the establishment of a new politi- cal order grounded in the separation of powers. After the Restoration, they continued their inquiry into the significance of Europe for Japan, using their understanding of international law to investigate what foreign policies Japan should adopt to meet the challenges of a new world order whose pillars were free trade and treaty diplomacy. And finally, Nishi and Tsuda, informed by Vissering’s lectures on political economy and statistics, sought fundamental reforms in Japanese society in order to overcome the variety of issues confront- ing it both at home and abroad. At the beginning of the Meiji period, Nishi wrote to his mentor Vissering lamenting the “shallowness” and “superficiality”
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At this juncture we might ask: What were the philosophical questions of political thought embedded in the knowledge that Nishi and Tsuda brought back with them from the Netherlands, and what concrete impact did they have on the subsequent development of the modern Japanese polity? Nishi and Tsuda were pioneers in grappling with a number of the key issues confronting Japan in the late nineteenth century. To conclude this book, I would like to sum up their contributions from the three perspectives of philosophy, international law, and constitutional law.
1 Philosophy and Utilitarianism
First, let us consider their philosophical work. Previous studies have some- times interpreted the activities of Nishi, Tsuda, and the other intellectuals associated with the Meirokusha as a “Meiji Enlightenment,” making explicit comparison to eighteenth-century European Enlightenment thought.1 Fukuzawa Yukichi’s engagement with social contract theory has been espe- cially noted in this regard. In Sections 6 and 7 of Gakumon no susume (An Encouragement of Learning, 1874), Fukuzawa explains that “since not every person can directly administer the affairs of state, this is entrusted to the gov- ernment, which contracts to serve as the representative of the people.”2 Because of this, he proclaims, “obedience to the nation’s government by the people means, not obedience to laws enacted by the government, but obedi- ence to laws enacted by themselves.”3 Fukuzawa’s argument was influenced by The Elements of Moral Science (1858), written by Francis Wayland, professor of moral philosophy and president of Brown University. According to Matsuzawa Hiroaki, Fukuzawa’s position contains a radical assertion of popular sover- eignty that forms the core of his conception of the nation-state.4
1 For detailed consideration of the problematic aspects of interpreting the political thought of early Meiji intellectuals as a “Meiji Enlightenment,” see Ōkubo Takeharu, “Meiji Enlightenment to Nakamura Keiu”; Sugawara Hikaru, Nishi Amane no seijishisō; and Kōno Yūri, Meiroku zasshi no seijishisō. 2 Fukuzawa Yukichi, Gakumon no susume, 76; translated into English by David A Dilworth and Hirano Umeyo, 52. 3 Fukuzawa, Gakumon no susume, 63; Dilworth and Hirano, 43–44. 4 Matsuzawa Hiroaki, “Shakai keiyaku kara bunmeishi e,” 56. However, as Matsuzawa has already observed, there are differences in the arguments of Wayland and Fukuzawa. Wayland made a distinction between voluntary associations established by contract and civil society itself—whose foundations he ultimately sought in the will of God, the original impulses common to all men, and the necessities of man, arising out of the condition of his present
Yet in early Meiji Japan—essentially the 1870s—Fukuzawa was a rare voice speaking in support of the social contract as political theory. The majority of Japanese intellectuals were instead strongly attracted to utilitarianism, the lat- est political theory coming out of contemporary Europe, and one conceived in the midst of a critical reaction to social contract theory. (Even Fukuzawa would later move in the direction of Mill’s utilitarianism.) And the leading figure in this trend was, as we saw in Chapter 3 of this book, none other than Nishi Amane. The Netherlands that Nishi and Tsuda visited at the beginning of the 1860s had recently experienced a revision of its constitution and a moderate series of liberal reforms in a successful effort to avoid the revolutionary conflagration spreading outward from France’s February Revolution of 1848. Because of this, the abstractions of natural law theory had already become a relic of the past, and social contract theory was shunned as a depraved and deluded fantasy. In the Netherlands at that time, conditions were ripe for the development of an empiricist tendency in scholarship, and the work of Auguste Comte and John Stuart Mill was enthusiastically received. Nishi Amane’s engagement with util- itarianism was thus an extension of his experience of study abroad in the Netherlands. Though he was critical of the Neo-Confucian distinction between righteousness and interest, or justice and utility (giri no ben 義利の弁), Nishi sought to redefine and repurpose other terminology from the Confucian philo- sophical tradition such as hōyū no rin 朋友の倫 (the bonds of friendship) and aiseiyō no michi 相生養の道 (the way of social life and mutual intercourse) in an attempt to embody the fundamental principles of civilized society and social ethics within his own cultural context. His critical examination of the Neo-Confucian worldview and epistemology led him to an effort to redefine his scholarship from an empiricist perspective. In this way, Nishi attempted to build a bridge between Western and Eastern philosophy, blazing a trail for the exploration of universal principles and jus- tice. Nishi’s work was a new step forward for philosophical research in Japan. The word that he eventually settled on to translate “philosophy” into Japanese, tetsugaku 哲学, remains the standard term for that discipline 150 years later in twenty-first-century Japan and China. On the other hand, one figure who was openly and directly critical of the adoption of utilitarianism in early Meiji Japan was Nakae Chōmin.5 In contrast
existence (Francis Wayland, Elements of Moral Science, 331–335). In contrast, Fukuzawa saw the nation-state as founded upon the mutual consent and allegiance of the people. For a more detailed examination of this point, see Matsuda Kōichirō, “Fukuzawa Yukichi to Meiji kokka.” 5 Miyamura Haruo, Rigakusha Chōmin, and Shintei Nihon seiji shisōshi; Yonehara Ken, Nihon kindai shisō to Nakae Chōmin.
2 International Law and the Vicissitudes of Foreign Policy
The philosophical themes that Nishi Amane encountered during his studies in the Netherlands were also intimately related to the variety of political issues confronting modern Japan in the realms of both foreign affairs and the estab- lishment of a system of domestic law. So let us look next at the reception of international law in Japan and its impact on foreign policy. As we saw in Chapter 4, what Nishi and Tsuda studied in the Netherlands was European international law conceived as the public law of civilization— originating in natural law, but shaped and informed by the history of European international relations. In it, Nishi and Tsuda discovered a concept of norma- tive civilized values founded on reciprocity. The understanding of interna- tional law that Nishi and Tsuda brought back with them, along with Henry Wheaton’s Elements of International Law in its Chinese translation, had a major impact on foreign policy and perceptions of the international order in post- Restoration Japan, and inspired significant debate regarding the course that Japan should chart for itself in the international society of the late nineteenth century. Nishi and Tsuda’s scholarly achievements were valued by the Meiji government, and in 1871 (Meiji 4), Tsuda participated, as chief secretary to the
6 Nakae Chōmin, “Ron kōri shiri,” 22–23. 7 Nakae Chōmin, Minyaku yakukai, 91.
Japanese envoy, in the negotiation of the Sino-Japanese Treaty of Amity, the first modern treaty between the two countries. Nishi and Tsuda’s discourse on international law, which played such a major role in the early years of the Meiji period, would continue to influence government foreign policy and popular perceptions of the world for some time to come. But at the same time, contemporary developments in the international political situation in East Asia would cause new and difficult problems. In 1874, not long after the signing of the treaty of amity with Qing China, the Meiji government dispatched a punitive expedition to Taiwan, using the mur- der of Ryukyuan sailors by Taiwanese aborigines as a pretext. When this was acknowledged by the Qing government as a “righteous act” undertaken for the protection of “Japanese subjects” (Nihonkoku zokumin), Japan annexed the Ryukyu Islands, where the Ryukyu kingdom had maintained tribute relations with both the Japanese shogun and with the Chinese emperor since the seven- teenth century. Moreover, an incident in 1875 involving an exchange of fire between Korean shore batteries and a Japanese gunboat provided the opportu- nity for Japan to sign the Treaty of Kanghwa (1876) with Korea. This was a clas- sic unequal treaty, full of conditions favorable to Japan, including Korea’s ceding of tariff autonomy and accepting Japan’s demand for unilateral con- sular jurisdiction. In this fashion, the Meiji government used bankoku kōhō 万国公法 (the law of nations, or international law) and treaty diplomacy grounded in European international law as a significant tool for demanding a reconfiguration of the traditional East Asian international order based on the Chinese tribute system. Yet, because of this, tensions between Japan and Qing China over Korea had become a real problem, and at the same time the threat of the dismemberment of the Qing empire by the Western powers, including Russia, seemed to grow with each passing day. For example, in 1878 Fukuzawa published Tsuzoku kokken ron (A Popular Discourse on National Rights), in which he compared international politics to “the world of the beasts” and preached the importance of expanding Japan’s military power. He turned a jaundiced eye toward the subject of international law, remarking that “a few cannon are more important than a hundred volumes of international law.”8 This was no longer the Fukuzawa who in his younger days had declared that “for anyone wishing to become a civilized gentleman… it is desirable that they convert to the religion of international law.”9
8 Fukuzawa Yukichi, “Tsūzoku kokken ron” in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 4, 637. 9 Fukuzawa Yukichi, “Zuihitsu,” in Fukuzawa Yukichi zenshū, vol. 20, 12.
It was in this context that Nishi Amane delivered a series of lectures entitled “Heifuron” (On Military Service, 1878–81) to the officers of the Japanese Army, proclaiming the urgent task of strengthening Japan’s national defense. During these years, Nishi was employed at the Army Ministry under Yamagata Aritomo, and was deeply involved in the creation of the modern Japanese military. His duties included the drafting of the famous Imperial Rescript to Soldiers and Sailors, the official code of ethics for military personnel, which later would function as a key document in Japan’s pre-World War II ideology. According to Nishi, the present international situation was one in which each nation was engaged in fierce competition with the others to assert and achieve its own rights and interests. “We are told to put our trust in international law, but it seems that the only means to achieve the purpose of this public law is the power of the cannonball.”10 Here, Nishi comes very close indeed to Fukuzawa Yukichi’s assertion that “power is right” (might makes right). However, there is a significance to this that cannot be dismissed simply as a shift in position. And this was because, unlike Fukuzawa, Nishi had grounded himself thoroughly in international law and pursued its internal logic rigorously and thoroughly before coming to stand at the edge of this abyss. The conclusion he arrived at was to seek in international law logical legitimation for the expansion of military power. “International law proclaims that in their consideration of nations at war, non- combatant states should view the assertions of both sides to be legitimate, and should not involve judgments of right and wrong, just and unjust.”11 This is consonant with what Vissering had taught Nishi and Tsuda concerning non- combatant neutrality and the conception of war in European international law. Vissering was critical of “just war” theory based on natural law, and taught that in European international law combatants possessed equal rights and sta- tus as sovereign states, making it impossible to judge the justice or injustice of the causes of war. Yet at the same time, Vissering made it clear that the laws of civilization had created a morality of good faith (goede trouw; shinjitsu 信実) and humanity (menschelijkheid; jin’ai no michi 仁愛の道) applicable even in times of warfare between such sovereign states. From this basis, he explained, the laws of war gradually became prescribed by European international law. It is here, however, that Nishi departed from Vissering’s teachings. According to Nishi, in contemporary international society as based on European international law, there is no such thing as a just war. And because of this, what determines the validity of one’s position in war is nothing more than military force. “In the
10 Nishi Amane, “Heifuron,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 3, 35. 11 Ibid., 65.
12 Ibid., 65. 13 Nishi Amane, “Jō rinpō heibi ryakuhyō,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 3.
3 The Establishment of Constitutional Government
Third, we have the perspective of constitutional law and domestic legal and political institutions.14 As we saw in Chapter 1, after their return to Japan in the final years of the Tokugawa period, Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi built on their experience of study abroad in the Netherlands to disseminate the knowl- edge they had acquired concerning European constitutional government and to foreground the problem of the weak consciousness of rights in traditional Japanese legal culture. In particular, Nishi served personally as a political advi- sor to Tokugawa Yoshinobu, the last shogun, advocating for reform of the polit- ical system based on the theory of the separation of powers. At that time, Nishi was critical of more radical proposals for the introduction of a Western-style parliamentary system, aiming instead at a gradualist approach to the establish- ment of a constitutional monarchy. Eventually the themes in political thought first articulated in Japan by Nishi and Tsuda would evolve into central issues in the development of the Meiji state. In the process, Nishi and Tsuda would con- tinue to play important roles as leaders of public opinion and proposers of draft constitutions. In this regard, perhaps the most interesting development was the debate over a popularly elected parliament. In 1873, Itagaki Taisuke and several other highly placed officials of the new Meiji government resigned in protest over a decision not to pursue a punitive campaign against Korea (seikanron). Itagaki and his colleagues followed this with a memorial presented to the Sa’in (an early consultative body within the Meiji government) in January 1874 calling for the establishment of a popularly elected national parliament. Itagaki’s memorial touched off a vigorous nationwide debate over the timing of the establishment of such an institution. The issue was heatedly discussed in the pages of the Meiroku zasshi, where interestingly enough, Nishi Amane and
14 Even after the entry into the Meiji period, study of Dutch political institutions continued unabated. For example, Kanda Takahira, a colleague of Nishi, Tsuda, and Sugi Kōji at the Bansho Shirabesho, produced not only a translation of Vissering’s lectures on natural law, but also of the 1848 Dutch constitution written by Thorbecke and his colleagues. As a government bureaucrat and member of the Kōgisho (公議所), a deliberative body within the early Meiji government, Kanda participated in the establishment of the institutions of the new state and worked to introduce aspects of Dutch state and local government laws and institutions to Japan.
Tsuda Mamichi found themselves taking opposite sides as key figures in the ensuing debate. In “Baku kyūshōkō gi ichidai” (Refuting the Joint Statement by the Former Ministers), Nishi delivers the judgment that it would be premature to establish the popularly elected parliament called for in the memorial submitted by the former ministers.15 He acknowledges Rousseau and the theory of the social contract underlying the movement to establish a popularly elected parlia- ment, but asserts that “the government of a country does not invariably arise from a contract. This is especially the case when historical traditions differ.”16 Resistant to Rousseau’s ideas of the social contract and alarmed at the pros- pect of radical parliamentarianism, Nishi insisted upon the need for more gradual and methodical institutional design. His argument shows that his institutional insights and philosophical attitudes regarding the parliamentary system maintained a consistency and continuity dating back to “Gidai sōan” and the final days of the Tokugawa shogunate. In contrast, Tsuda Mamichi developed arguments that essentially supported the establishment of a popularly elected national parliament. In “Seiron no san” (On Government: Part Three), he points out that Japanese people have been so long subject to oppressive rule that their spirit of liberty has been bro- ken. According to him, in order to promote the spirit of liberty and enhance the vitality of the nation, Japanese government must introduce a popularly elected parliament and stimulate participation by the people in national affairs.17 For Tsuda, the fact that the spirit of liberty is still deficient in Japan is precisely the reason why a popular parliament should be immediately estab- lished, encouraging the people to take an active interest in the affairs of their nation. He focuses attention on the educational functions that the establish- ment of system of popular representation can fulfill. At first glance, it would seem that the positions taken by Nishi and Tsuda are diametrically opposed. Yet their consciousness regarding the fundamental challenge facing Japan is quite similar. They confront the fragility and underde- velopment of the present level of civilization and realize the necessity of overcoming the “oppression” and “despotism” that have damaged the spirit of
15 Regarding this issue, Nishi also wrote another article, “Mōra giin no setsu” (On an All- Inclusive Parliament) in Meiroku zasshi. In it, he warned of the dangers of radical parlia- mentarianism, and presented a more gradual and methodical institutional design for the introduction of a popularly elected assembly in Japan. 16 Nishi Amane, “Baku kyūshōkō gi ichidai,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 1, 126; translated into English by Braisted, 42. 17 Tsuda Mamichi, “Seiron no san,” in Meiroku zasshi, vol. 1, 396–397; Braisted, 159.
18 Simon Vissering, translated by Tsuda Mamichi, Taisei kokuhō ron, in Tsuda Mamichi zenshū, vol. 1, 146. 19 Nishi Amane, “Kenpō sōan,” in Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 221. 20 Ibid., 201, 207.
21 Ibid., 203–207. 22 Ibid., 224. In this draft, voting rights were restricted to “residents of each electoral district in the nation who have reached the age of majority, enjoy full rights of citizenship, and who pay direct taxes of five yen or more.” 23 Ibid., 223–233. 24 Ibid., 221 25 For Inoue Kowashi’s criticism of Nishi Amane’s draft constitution, see Nishi Amane zenshū, vol. 2, 220.
To state that the executive power resides in the emperor follows Prussian law, but this provision is itself modeled on the Belgian constitution. This is an overly hasty proposal, with insufficient attention to details. If we accept the arguments of recent German scholarship, then the sovereign combines in his person both the legislative and executive powers, and one cannot say that only the executive power resides in him. The Belgian constitution contains an admixture of republicanism.26
Ironically, one might say that this criticism of Inoue’s was actually a quite per- ceptive reading of the salient feature of Nishi’s draft, which had been written with what Vissering had taught him concerning the 1848 Dutch constitution in mind. For in fact, the 1848 Dutch constitution that Nishi had studied was cer- tainly influenced by the 1831 Belgian constitution, widely regarded in contem- porary Europe as the most liberal document of its kind. Thus, while the content of Vissering’s lectures on constitutional law as introduced by Nishi and Tsuda after their studies in the Netherlands provided a framework and much specific information to fuel debate on constitutional issues in Meiji Japan, the govern- ment eventually rejected Nishi’s draft constitution on the grounds that it was too liberal and too republican. In the end, Japan’s first modern constitution—the Constitution of the Empire of Japan (commonly known as the Meiji Constitution)—was promul- gated in Feburary 1889 (Meiji 22). Its principal architects were Itō Hirobumi and Inoue Kowashi.27 While modeled primarily on the Prussian constitution, its nucleus was an affirmation of imperial sovereignty and the placement of governing authority in the hands of an emperor defined as “sacred and invio- lable” and scion of a lineage “unbroken for ages eternal.”
4 Legacy for a New Generation
But the lineage of the Dutch jurisprudence introduced by Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi to Japan also remained unbroken by this turn of events. The liberal elements in it would be inherited by the next generation, and par- ticularly by the young activists of the Freedom and Popular Rights Movement and their appeal for the establishment of liberty and democracy. One of
26 Ibid., vol. 2, 199. 27 An important recent study is Takii Kazuhiro, Bunmei shi no naka no Meiji kenpō, trans- lated into English by David Noble as The Meiji Constitution. See also Takii’s Doitsu kok- kagaku to Meiji kokusei.
28 Ueki Emori, “Etsudokusho nikki,” in Ueki Emori shū, vol. 8, 251–255; “Ueki Emori nikki,” in Ueki Emori shū, vol. 7, 186. See also Yonehara Ken, Ueki Emori, 74–78. 29 J.E. Goudsmit, Pandecten-systeem, Leiden: Sijthoff, 1866; translated into English by R. de Tracy Gould as The Pandects: a treatise on the Roman Law, and upon its connection with modern legislation, London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1873. For Ono Azusa’s engagement with Goudsmit’s research on Roman law, see Ōkubo Takeharu, Kindai Nihon no seiji kōsō to Oranda, chapters 4–5, and “Ono Azusa and the Meiji Constitution,” translated into English by Gaynor Sekimori. 30 Ono Azusa, Roma ritsuyō, in Ono Azusa zenshū, vol. 2, 3–4.
31 Ono Azusa, “Minpō no hone,” in Ono Azusa zenshū, vol. 2, 250. 32 Yamashita Shigekazu, “Ono Azusa to F. Lieber,” in Kokugakuin hōgaku 15, no. 4 (1978). 33 Ono Azusa, “Kokken hanron,” in Ono Azusa zenshū, vol. 1, 117–136. Regarding Ono Azusa, see also Sandra T.W. Davis, “Ono Azusa and the Political Change of 1881” and Intellectual Change and Political Development in Early Modern Japan.
Now that this task has been accomplished, I look back with undivided pleasure on this work of more than two years. The concerns I harbored vanished very soon after we had met person- ally. We learned to understand each other in all aspects… I have found in you not only diligent and well-disposed students, but also friends. We have not only met each other with mutual courtesy and
34 In my thinking about issues such as the search for “rationality” spanning different tradi- tions, as well as the dialogues and transformations that can occur as a result of cross- cultural encounters, I have been greatly stimulated by reading Alasdair MacIntyre, Whose Justice? Which Rationality?.
respect, but between us sincere affection has developed, which will leave me most pleasurable recollections as long as I live… I hope that the greatest purpose you have in mind—the scientific development of your countrymen in order to assure order and law in the nation and to promote the prosperity of its people—will prove increas- ingly within reach.35
The long wave of modern Japanese history that swept from the opening of the country to the establishment of the Constitution of the Empire of Japan also transcended the bounds of East and West, and was born out of the accumula- tion of many personal encounters and individual exchanges of feeling and opinion. After the nineteenth century passed its midpoint, the traditional worldview collapsed with an audible crash, and a flood of scholarship and cul- ture came pouring into East Asia from the Western world. Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi stood at the forefront and were among the first to feel the direct shock of this transformation. With the tradition of Dutch studies that had developed during the Tokugawa period as an initial guide, they faced the Western flood, attempted to shore up the foundations of their own society and to find a pathway for its survival amid the rising waters. Without looking back at the perplexities and difficulties they encountered, and the intensity of their struggle, we cannot speak meaningfully of Japanese modernity. It is with this conviction that I would like to end this book, which began by tracing a forgot- ten thread of intellectual history linking modern Japan with the Netherlands’ most venerable academic institution, Leiden University.
35 Simon Vissering, letter to Nishi Amane and Tsuda Mamichi, 28 November 1865, in Nichiran Gakkai and Ōkubo Toshiaki, eds., Bakumatsu Oranda ryūgaku kankei shiryō shūsei, 191–192.
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Kurimoto Jōun 70 Obata Tokujirō 240 Legge, James 221 Odano Naotake 3 Lewes, George Henry 131, 160, 177 Ogata Kōan 15 Li Hongzhang 249, 251 Oguri Tadamasa 70 Locke, John 30–31, 157 Ogyū Sorai 21–24, 57, 60–61, 63, 81, Lodensteyn, Jan Joosten van 1 154, 164 Louis XIV 190 Ōkubo Ichiō 25 Ōkubo Toshimichi 225 Maeno Ryōtaku 3 Ōkuma Shigenobu xii, 115–116, 119–125 Malthus, Thomas Robert 140–141 Ōmura Masujirō 20 Martens, Georg Friedrich von 195 Ono Azusa xvii, 17–18, 120, 268–270 Martin, William Alexander Parsons Opzoomer, Cornelis Willem 157–159, 176 180–183, 192, 211–212, 216–219, 221, 223, 246 Osatake Takeki 36, 181 Maruyama Masao xiii Ōtsuki Gentaku 4–5 Marx, Karl Heinrich 142 Otterspeer, Willem 109, 158 Matsuzawa Hiroaki xiii, 93, 222, Ozaki Yukio 120–124 241–242, 257 Mencius 21, 60, 163, 219 Parkes, Harry Smith 232, 236 Mill, John Stuart xvi, 14, 131, 140–141, Perry, Matthew Calbraith ix, x, xi, 10, 155–163, 165–166, 169–172, 174–176, 221, 254, 18–19, 24–25, 28, 38, 179, 209, 223, 237, 240, 258 254 Minear, Richard H. xii Petty, William 106 Mitsukuri Genpo 9, 20, 24 Poortinga, Eke 47 Mitsukuri Rinshō 17, 80 Porter, Theodore M. 83, 90–91, 108 Mitsukuri Shūhei 8 Pufendorf, Samuel von 43, 193, 213 Miyamura Haruo xiii, 241 Mizuno Tadakuni 9, 254 Quételet, Lambert Adolphe Jacques 14, Mizuno Tadanori 26 89–91, 93, 106–108, 110–111, 125 Montesquieu, Charles-Louis de 44, 53–54, 168 Rai Shunsui 23 Mori Arinori 75, 78, 112 Ricardo, David 140 Mori Ōgai 82 Roches, Michel Marie Léon 70–71 Motoori Norinaga 179 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques 44, 51, 258–259, 264 Nagai Naoyuki 26 Nakae Chōmin xii, 258–259 Sakatani Shiroshi (Rōro) 163 Nakagamigawa Hikojirō 123 Sakuma Shōzan 8, 25 Nakahama Manjirō 16, 24 Sano Tsunetami 28 Nakamura Masanao (Keiu) xii, xvi, 12, Savigny, Friedrich Carl von 46, 214 219–221, 223, 229, 233–235, 244–247, 250, 252 Sawa Tarōzaemon 27, 29 Nakura Nobuatsu 250, 252 Say, Jean-Baptiste 133, 140–141 Nishi Amane xi–xii, xiv–xvii, 7, 10–36, Schmitt, Carl 207 38–43, 45, 47, 50, 52–53, 55–79, 81, 84–86, Shiba Kōkan 4–5 95, 97–99, 102, 104, 106, 108–114, 124–132, Siebold, Phillipp Franz von 8, 19, 33 140, 143–144, 148–149, 151–178, 181–187, 190, Sismondi, Jean Charles Léonard 193–194, 196, 198–199, 201, 204–208, 211–213, Simonde de 141 216–217, 221, 223–225, 227–239, 242, Smith, Adam 52, 132, 138, 140–141, 244–248, 253–271 148, 150 Nishiyori Seisai 24 Stewart, Dugald 234
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