Reluctant Complicity in a Fascist Age:

Nishida Kitarō’s The Problem of Japanese Culture and Iwanami Culture, 1938-1941

Thesis

Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Master of Arts in the

Graduate School of The Ohio State University

By

Joseph Alambra Henares

Graduate Program in East Asian Studies

The Ohio State University

2019

Thesis Committee

Melissa Curley, Advisor

Philip Brown

Richard Torrance

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Copyrighted by

Joseph Alambra Henares

2019

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Abstract

This thesis studies the thought of Japanese philosopher Nishida Kitarō through an analysis of his 1938 lecture series “The Problem of Japanese Culture” (Nihon bunka no mondai 日本文化の問題), his 1940 monograph The Problem of Japanese Culture, and reactions in the Japanese press to Nishida’s writings from 1940 to 1941. Chapter 1 argues that “The Problem of Japanese Culture” includes anti-ultranationalist motifs, which I term “academic liberty” and “global orientation,” as well as nationalist motifs like those I term “Japanese essentialism,” “anti-Sinic differentiation,” and “imperial centrality,” and that the existence of these motifs in Nishida’s work can be understood to be the result of

Nishida’s dialogue with the transnational “Iwanami culture” that developed around publishing house Iwanami Shoten. Chapter 2 argues that these motifs are made more nationalistic in The Problem of Japanese Culture as a result of Iwanami Shigeo’s indictment during the 1939-1940 Tsuda Incident, during which historian Tsuda Sōkichi was brought to trial by ultranationalist forces. Chapter 3 identifies Iwanami writers, anti-

Nishida ultranationalists, and pro-Nishida ultranationalists as representing the three main strands of interpretation of Nishida’s thought from 1940 through 1941, and argues that the more nationalistic tone and content of The Problem of Japanese Culture allowed for the assertion of an ultranationalist reading of Nishida.

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Dedication

To Yu-Ning

心中無別人

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Acknowledgments

This thesis would not have been possible without a great deal of support. Writing a master’s thesis is a monumental task, and I would first of all like to thank my advisor

Melissa Curley and the other members of my committee Philip Brown and Richard

Torrance for all the help that they have provided to me during its formation. I would like, in a special way, to express my gratitude to Dr. Curley for always being ready to lend a listening ear, and for bearing with my struggles with deadlines with patience and encouragement. I would also like to thank Dr. Brown for providing me with invaluable advice on writing at the graduate level, and for helping me to seek shelter indoors during a terrorist attack on campus. I would like to thank Dr. Torrance for being so generous in sharing his extensive knowledge of Japanese thought, history, and literature, and for providing me with crucial advice on the translation of a number of passages.

There are many others who played critical roles in my education at Ohio State.

An independent study course with Thomas Kasulis on the history of Japanese philosophy opened my eyes to the vastness of the field. Courses and conversations with Stephen

Kern taught me the importance of terminological precision, intellectual creativity, and passion in one’s work and life. Ying Zhang taught me a great deal, not only about

Chinese history but also about managing stress as I applied to Ph.D. programs. Kiyosue

Teppei, Evelyn Huang, Tobaru Hiromi, and Terada Eri were very kind as they helped me

iv to navigate the Japanese language. In addition, I would like to extend my gratitude to

Alice Conklin, Greg Anderson, Jennifer Siegel, Hugh Urban, Christopher Reed, Scott

Levi, Ann-Marie Davis, Charles Quinn, Patricia Sieber, Naomi Fukumori, Yuasa Etsuyo,

Kuwai Yuko, and Amy Carey, all of whom contributed significantly to the friendly and intellectually stimulating environment that I enjoyed at Ohio State.

Outside of Ohio State, I would like to thank all of the language teachers in the

School of Japanese at Middlebury Language Schools during the summer of 2016 and at the Inter-University Center for Japanese Language Studies (IUC) during the summer of

2017 and the 2017-18 academic year. I am especially grateful to Sogabe Ayako, Kotera

Yumi, Matsuda Asuka, Ueda Keiko, Takahashi Jun, Satō Ari, Satō Tsukasa, Kushida

Kiyomi, Ōhashi Makiko, Aoki Soichi, Bruce Batten, and to all the other teachers and staff at Middlebury and the IUC for their kindness and support. Additionally, I would like to thank James Heisig and the fellows and staff of the Nanzan Institute for Religion and

Culture for being so accommodating towards me during my visits to the institute.

Funding for language study and research was made possible by several grants and fellowships. I am grateful to the Ohio State Graduate School for awarding me a Dean’s

Graduate Enrichment Fellowship for the 2016-2017 and 2018-2019 academic years, to the U.S. Department of Education and the Ohio State East Asian Studies Center for awarding me a Summer FLAS for the summers of 2016 and 2017 as well as an Academic

Year FLAS for the 2017-2018 academic year, and to Ohio State’s Council of Graduate

Students for awarding me a Global Gateway Graduate Student Research Abroad Grant in the summer of 2018.

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On a personal note, I would like to thank my parents John and Jean Henares for their unwavering support and encouragement. My younger siblings Marian, John Paul, and Christina all played roles in calming my nerves and helping me to see the big picture.

Finally, I am and will always remain deeply grateful to Chen Yu-Ning for her care and support. This thesis is all the better for it.

Thank you all for everything. All mistakes, deficiencies, and errors in this work are mine and mine alone.

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Vita

June 2011…………………………Seton Home Study School

May 2015…………………………B.A. History, Philosophy, University of Notre Dame

Summer 2016…………………….Summer FLAS, Level II Japanese

Summer 2017…………………….Summer FLAS, Level IV Japanese

2017 to 2018……………………...Academic Year FLAS, Level V Japanese

Summer 2018……………………..Graduate Research Associate, East Asian Studies

Center, The Ohio State University

Fields of Study

Major Field: East Asian Studies

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Table of Contents

Abstract ...... ii Dedication ...... iii Acknowledgments...... iv Vita ...... vii Introduction: A Fascist Age ...... 1 Chapter 1. Nishida and Iwanami Culture ...... 9 Chapter 2. Iwanami Under Attack ...... 37 Chapter 3. Iwanami Culture and Ultranationalism ...... 59 Conclusion: Towards the Iwanami School? ...... 86 Bibliography ...... 89

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Introduction: A Fascist Age

Nishida, Iwanami Shigeo, and The Problem of Japanese Culture

As you know, the present age is a fascist age. Those who are selflessly and deeply concerned about the future of our country should not clash with the trend of the day by upholding a purist attitude to fight against it, but should persevere in the face of the present situation and make an effort to put the country gradually back on the right course.1 -Nishida Kitarō to Hidaka Daishiro, 1935

Nishida Kitarō (1870-1945), the “most important philosopher of modern Japan,”2 is best known today for bringing together Western philosophy and Eastern thought in the

1911 work An Inquiry into the Good (Zen no kenkyū 善の研究). Less known, however, are his interactions in the 1930s and 1940s with significant figures in early Shōwa Japan outside the domain of philosophy, such as his friendship with Iwanami Shigeo, founder of publishing house Iwanami Shoten, his mentorship of three-time prime minister Konoe

Fumimaro, and his hostility towards the ultranationalist ideologue Minoda Muneki. These personal connections and frictions are important for understanding the manner in which

1 Nishida, Nishida Kitarō zenshū 18:545. Hereafter, NKZ. This translation is based on Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 267 with minor revisions. 2 “Nishida Kitarō,” Japan: An Illustrated Encyclopedia, CD-ROM. 1

Nishida presented his own thought in his writings in the late 1930s and early 1940s, especially in light of his relationship with Japanese nationalism during what he referred to as a “fascist age.”3

At the time of these writings, the rise of Japanese militarism was abundantly clear both at home and abroad. The 1931 invasion of Manchuria, masterminded by leaders of the Kwantung army, led to the establishment of the puppet state of Manchukuo in 1932, and to Japan’s withdrawal from the League of Nations in 1933. The 1937 Marco Polo

Bridge Incident, a skirmish between Japanese and Chinese soldiers, developed into the

Second Sino-Japanese War as Japan’s government attempted to destroy the Nationalist regime. Within Japan, coup attempts led by young radicals in the army and navy occurred several times in the 1930s. The 1932 May 15 Incident left Prime Minister Inukai

Tsuyoshi dead, and the 1936 February 26 Incident saw the rebels assassinate two former prime ministers and occupy Tokyo before being suppressed.

Such militaristic moves occurred against the backdrop of Japan’s slide towards the silencing of dissent. This suppression reached a milestone with the passage of the

1925 Peace Preservation Law (Chian iji hō 治安維持法), which criminalized joining any association that aimed to “alter the national essence (kokutai 国体).” This law was used to crack down on Communists and socialists, leading to the public trials that culminated

3 By using the term “fascist” in 1935, Nishida was most likely referring to political, social, and cultural trends in Japan that paralleled trends in Italy and other European countries with respect to severe censorship, strict central control of the school system, brutal actions by police forces, and the suppression of the freedom of assembly by force. In the context of 1930s Japan, the term “fascism” was used first by the intelligentsia, then by the mass media, and then, from the mid-1930s onwards, by the dwindling members of the Japanese Left. In general, the term ceased to be used in a critical way after 1938. See Torrance, “The People’s Library,” 57-58. 2 in the spectacular 1933 conversion (tenkō 転向) of Communist leaders Sano Manabu and

Nabeyama Sadachika, a “mortal wound” to the Japanese Communist Party.4 In 1935, in the emperor-as-organ theory incident, the state prosecuted constitutional law theorist

Minobe Tatsukichi for conceiving of the emperor as an “organ of the state,” and then issued a “clarification of the kokutai” which referred to Minobe’s view as a foreign theory worthy of suppression.5 The 1939-1940 Tsuda Incident led to the banning of the works of historian Tsuda Sōkichi for his critical analysis of the Japanese classics, and to the sentencing of Tsuda and of his publisher Iwanami Shigeo to several months in prison.

Nishida Kitarō, who lived through this “dark valley” of early Shōwa, has been described as an enigma.6 Born in a small village in what was then Kaga Domain,

Nishida—like his childhood friend D.T. Suzuki—first attended, then dropped out of the

Fourth Higher School in Kanazawa. After studying philosophy at Tokyo Imperial

University as a “special student” (senka 選科), Nishida taught at the Fourth Higher

School for several years. On the merits of his 1911 maiden work An Inquiry into the

Good (Zen no kenkyū 善の研究), he rose to become a philosophy professor at Kyoto

Imperial University, where he attracted a close circle of disciples (and antagonists7) who would become known as the “Kyoto School.” He continued to write on a variety of philosophical topics after his retirement in 1928.

4 Mitchell, Thought Control, 109-113. 5 Mitchell, 151-155. 6 Arisaka, “The Nishida Enigma.” 7 Tosaka Jun, initially one of Nishida’s closest followers, later became one of his most trenchant critics. 3

The most controversial aspect of Nishida’s work concerns his writings in the

1940s. These works, which include The Problem of Japanese Culture (Nihon bunka no mondai 日本文化の問題, 1940), “The Problem of Raison D’État” (Kokka riyū no mondai 国家理由の問題, 1941), “Principles of the New World Order” (Sekai shinchitsujo no genri 世界新秩序の原理, 1943), and Kokutai (国体, 1944), have been accused of being ultranationalist.8 As Yoko Arisaka points out, scholarship on Nishida’s political thought can generally be organized into three groups: that which presents

Nishida as an ultranationalist, that which presents him as a liberal, and that which presents his political writings as ambiguous.9 As of now, this debate over the character of

Nishida’s nationalism remains unresolved.

The variety of contemporary interpretations of Nishida’s political thought raises two important questions. First: Who were Nishida’s main interlocutors? There are indications of the degree of Nishida’s nationalism buried within his correspondence and contact with other figures of his day, particularly those within what Maruyama Masao has

8 Lavelle, in “The Political Philosophy of the Kyoto School,” uses these works to make a strong case that Nishida’s political thought was ultranationalist. However, Lavelle does not provide a definition of the term “ultranationalist” in this article. 9 Arisaka, “The Nishida Enigma,” 6-15. For Arisaka, the first group comprises John Dower, H.D. Harootunian, Tetsuo Najita, Robert Sharf, Peter Dale, Bernard Faure, and Pierre Lavelle; the second group is made up of Yusa Michiko and Ueda Shizuteru; and the “moderate” faction comprises Jan van Bragt, John Maraldo, Andrew Feenberg, Takeuchi Yoshitomo, and Shimizu Tarō. Since the publication of Arisaka’s article, there has been no agreement on the degree of nationalism in Nishida’s political writings, but scholarship on the Kyoto School has advanced in a number of intriguing directions. For an intellectual biography of Nishida from one of Nishida’s defenders, see Michiko Yusa, Zen and Philosophy. For a work that defends Kyoto School philosophers as non-fascist but views Japan’s war as a war against white supremacy, see David Williams, Defending Japan’s Pacific War. For recent literature on Nishida’s political philosophy, see Christopher Goto-Jones, Political Philosophy in Japan and the edited volume Re- Politicising the Kyoto School. One innovative strand of inquiry that analyzes Kyoto School philosophy from a Marxian perspective can be seen in Viren Murthy, Fabian Schäfer and Max Ward, Confronting Capital and Empire. 4 called “Iwanami culture,” a culture centered on the publishing house Iwanami Shoten.10

Second: How did Nishida’s own contemporaries react to his thought? In Sources of

Japanese Tradition, de Bary, Keene, and Tsunoda suggest that Nishida was attacked as pro-Western in wartime, and then was implicated as a reactionary after the war, but my analysis will show that this understates the degree to which Nishida’s thought was understood in some sectors as supporting the Japanese Right as well as the Japanese Left before the war.11

To better understand Nishida’s place in the intellectual worlds of his time, I will examine Nishida’s 1938 lecture series entitled “The Problem of Japanese Culture” and

Nishida’s 1940 book of the same name, as well as the Japanese books, journal articles, and newspaper articles that responded to Nishida’s political thought as expressed in these works. These works are significant because they serve as a hinge between Nishida’s relatively benign philosophical writings in the 1930s and his increasingly nationalistic works in the 1940s. They reveal, I believe, Nishida’s fateful transition from a largely anti-ultranationalist position to one that leans towards ultranationalism, a term that I use in this paper to denote support for Japanese militarism, the suppression of free speech in academia and the press, and the demonization of Western ideas as harmful to Japan.12

10 Maruyama, Thought and Behaviour, 57-63. Iwanami Shoten was the sole publisher of Nishida’s books from 1917 onwards. Goto-Jones, Political Philosophy in Japan, 21-22 notes that Nishida “located his audience” in Iwanami Culture, not Kodansha Culture, and that this made his works “impenetrable to many.” 11 De Bary, Keene, and Tsunoda, Sources of Japanese Tradition, 858. 12 This usage of the term “ultranationalism” conforms to the discussion of “ultranationalism” (chōkokkashugi 超国家主義) within the entry on “nationalism” (kokkashugi 国家主義) in The Dictionary of Japanese Intellectual History (Nihon shisōshi jiten 日本思想史辞典), 351. Thus, “ultranationalism,” as it is understood in this paper, is a specific variety of nationalism. “Japanese militarism” denotes Japan’s military expansion into Manchuria after 1931 and into China proper after 1937, as well as acts of domestic 5

My analysis centers on several anti-ultranationalist and nationalist motifs in

Nishida’s writings. I define an anti-ultranationalist motif as an idea that is reflective of an anti-ultranationalist trend in broader society —that is to say, opposed to Japanese militarism, the repression of academic freedom, and the demonization of Western ideas— and a nationalist motif as an idea reflective of a broadly nationalist trend in broader society—that is to say, tending towards glorifying Japanese culture, the Japanese nation, the Japanese imperial house, the Japanese “race,” or the Japanese empire. It is important to note that, under these definitions, anti-ultranationalist motifs and nationalist motifs are not mutually exclusive.

This thesis focuses on five motifs that appear in Nishida’s “Problem of Japanese

Culture”: the anti-ultranationalist motifs that I term “global orientation” and “academic liberty,” and the nationalist motifs that I term “imperial centrality,” “anti-Sinic differentiation,” and “Japanese essentialism.” It is clear that these motifs are not exclusive to Nishida’s thought. Both anti-ultranationalist motifs are products of the

Taishō era. The “global orientation” motif is linked to Japan’s history of engagement with the outside world as an equal, especially during the period of Shidehara diplomacy in the 1920s, when Japan pursued a policy of cooperation with the other great powers.

The motif of “academic liberty,” likewise, was nurtured in the Taishō era, finding expression in the blossoming of left-wing thought in various journals and imperial universities in the 1910s and 1920s.

terrorism by members of the military like the May 15 Incident of 1932 and the February 26 Incident of 1936. I use the word “nationalism” in a broad sense, to refer to any idea that glorifies Japanese culture, the Japanese nation, the Japanese imperial house, the Japanese “race,” or the Japanese empire. 6

The nationalist motifs predated the ultranationalism of the 1930s. The motif of

“imperial centrality,” positing the central importance of the imperial house to the

Japanese nation, has its roots in the Meiji Constitution’s understanding of Japan’s governance by “a line of Emperors unbroken for ages eternal.” The motif of “anti-Sinic differentiation,” which understands Japan as distinct from and superior to China, was expressed in Fukuzawa Yukichi’s famous article “Goodbye to Asia” (Datsu-a ron 脱亜

論), and gained strength in the wake of Japan’s victory in the First Sino-Japanese War

(1894-1895). The “Japanese essentialism” motif is as old as theories of Japanese uniqueness, but such ideas were catalyzed by Motoori Norinaga and the kokugaku scholars who followed him. It is a premise of this thesis that changes in Nishida’s thought can be traced through the development of these motifs.

Chapter 1 makes two arguments dealing with the content and context of Nishida’s

1938 Monday lecture series “The Problem of Japanese Culture.” First, it argues that the lectures were opposed in certain ways to Japanese ultranationalism because they carried the anti-ultranationalist motifs “global orientation” and “academic liberty.” At the same time, they also contained nationalist motifs such as those which I term “Japanese essentialism,” “anti-Sinic differentiation” and “imperial centrality.” Second, it argues that these motifs arose out of Nishida’s dialogue with a group of intellectuals associated with

“Iwanami culture,” the culture that arose around publishing house Iwanami Shoten.

Chapter 2 examines Nishida’s 1940 monograph The Problem of Japanese Culture and compares it with the lecture series. It suggests that the anti-ultranationalist and nationalist motifs visible in the lectures reappear in the book. However, the anti-

7 ultranationalist motifs “academic liberty” and “global orientation” and the nationalist motif “Japanese essentialism” are turned into ultranationalist-leaning versions of themselves in The Problem of Japanese Culture. This shift, I argue, is a result of Iwanami

Shigeo’s indictment during the 1939-1940 Tsuda Incident, which led Nishida to dilute his anti-ultranationalist sympathies in order to prevent further harm from coming to Iwanami.

Chapter 3 argues that, as a result of these changes, the interpretation of Nishida’s thought was highly contested immediately before the outbreak of the Pacific War.

Reactions to Problem of Japanese Culture and to Nishida’s general political ideas in

Japanese monographs, newspapers, and magazines in 1940 and 1941 reveal the existence of three prominent strands of thought. The first strand consisted of the pro-Nishida anti- ultranationalism of Iwanami culture; the second, the anti-Nishida ultranationalism typified by right wing ideologue Minoda Muneki and his mouthpiece Genri Nippon; and the third, pro-Nishida ultranationalism, which appeared in the Yomiuri Shinbun and circulated in the Japanese academic establishment. It was, I argue, the more nationalistic tone and substance of The Problem of Japanese Culture that allowed for the existence of this third strand.

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Chapter 1. Nishida and Iwanami Culture

“The Problem of Japanese Culture” (1938)

A. Introduction

In her biography of Nishida, Michiko Yusa highlights a joke that Nishida tells during the first of the three “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures: “These days, apparently the word “world” is a dirty word, which we are not even supposed to use!”13

In response, his audience bursts into laughter.14 The word “world” at the time carried anti-ultranationalist connotations, and Nishida’s joke, thus, was a not-so-subtle swipe at those who would denigrate Japan’s intellectual debt to the outside world for the sake of highlighting Japanese distinctiveness. This joke is an apt symbol of the generally anti- ultranationalist position that the lectures presented. Nishida was poking fun at the absurdity of ultranationalist attacks, and Nishida’s audience understood the reference and sympathized with him.

The origin of the lectures further indicates Nishida’s anti-ultranationalist sentiments. Nishida’s “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures took place at Kyoto

Imperial University on three consecutive Mondays: April 25, May 2, and May 9, 1938.

13 Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 292-293. Yusa’s translation. 14 NKZ 14:396. 9

The lectures came about as the result of a request from fellow philosopher Amano Teiyū, who had had his own run-in with ultranationalists just one year before the lectures when his book The Sense of Reason (Dōri no kankaku 道理の感覚) was attacked by right wing groups and suppressed by the government.15 It is notable too that both Amano Teiyū’s and Nishida Kitarō’s works were published by Iwanami Shoten, the publishing house founded and run by committed anti-ultranationalist Iwanami Shigeo.

Yet at the same time, around the time when he gave the “Problem of Japanese

Culture” lectures, Nishida had strong links with a certain brand of Japanese nationalism through his relationships to Konoe Fumimaro, Prime Minister from June 1937 to January

1939, from July 1940 to July 1941, and from July 1941 to October 1941, and Kido

Kōichi, Minister of Education from October 1937 to May 1938 and Lord Keeper of the

Privy Seal from June 1940 to November 1945. The fact that Konoe and Kido played roles in the expansion of the Second Sino-Japanese War raises further questions about the degree of Nishida’s nationalism. All of these ultranationalist and nationalist strands ultimately intertwine together in the motifs of “The Problem of Japanese Culture.”

B. A Summary of “The Problem of Japanese Culture”

“The Problem of Japanese Culture” begins with a jocular tone. As recorded in

Nishida’s Collected Works, in the first few minutes of the first lecture, Nishida tells his audience:

15 “Amano Teiyū,” Japan: An Illustrated Encyclopedia, CD-ROM and Furuta, “Amano Teiyū,” Kokushi Daijiten. 10

The pamphlets handed over to you all [copies of the lecture “On the Scholarly

Method”] are actually summaries of a speech that I gave in Hibiya in the fall of

last year. In fact, when Amano-kun asked me, I hadn’t... I hadn’t given that

speech recently, and I also did not want to do it (laughter), but I decided to

undertake this lecture because of Amano-kun's enthusiasm. Although I want to

talk about something new, because I did not have time to think about anything

new, I will try to speak about something similar to my talk last year.16

Here, Nishida is making reference to physical copies of “The Scholarly Method”

(Gakumonteki hōhō 学問的方法) – a lecture he had given at Hibiya park the previous year. This work explicitly called for freedom in the realm of academic research. Both the dissemination of this work and the collegiality of Nishida’s tone make it clear that

Nishida was speaking to an audience that shared his anti-ultranationalist views on academic liberty.

Nishida then moves to an extended discussion of different kinds of what he calls

“self-contradictory unity” (mujunteki jiko dōitsu 矛盾的自己同一)— a kind of unity of opposites that is a common theme in his philosophical writings. After going through examples of self-contradictory unity between time and space, between life and the environment, and between the species and the individual, Nishida makes two references to the Japanese imperial house. He mentions that the history of Japan is “centered on the

Japanese imperial house” and that Japanese history had had “self-contradictory unity” in the imperial house up to the present day. Nishida emphasizes self-contradictory unity

16 NKZ 14:389. 11 because he believes that it is through this unity that there can be a movement “from made to maker” (tsukurareta mono kara tsukuru mono e, 作られたものから作るものへ), and that it is this movement that moves the engine of history.17

Nishida then compares things made by human beings with things made by nonhuman animals. In contrast to things like beehives that are made through instinct, things that are made by human beings have universal meaning. In other words, human inventions have an impact that goes beyond oneself and reaches other human beings.

Greek philosophy, for example, has had an impact on human society that transcended the particular historical circumstances in which it arose. Culture, in Nishida’s view, is one of these human inventions. As a result, Nishida promotes the idea of a global orientation for

Japan. In relation to this notion, Nishida tells the aforementioned joke about how the word “world” is considered a dirty word among certain ultranationalists. It is primarily in opposition to these ultranationalists that Nishida asserts that Japan must produce a “world culture.”18

In the second lecture, Nishida discusses Japanese culture and its relation to world culture. According to Nishida, if a country does not develop “world historically,” then that country is dying. Nishida then defines “the Problem of Japanese Culture,” identifying it as a problem with regard to how Japan should receive world cultures and what kind of attitude to take towards them. He criticizes overemphasizing the uniqueness of Japanese culture, because such a move rejects those elements of Japanese culture that enter Japan

17 NKZ 14:389-391. 18 NKZ 14:391-397. 12 from the outside world. Nishida believes that the proper way to understand culture is through cross-cultural comparison. It is through comparing various cultures, Nishida claims, that the “root culture” of human beings can be understood. Nishida writes that the

West and the East are like two branches of one tree: they complement each other. He thus claims that it is important to compare them with each other in order to discover the root culture at the base of both.19

In the third lecture, Nishida discusses the characteristics of Western and Eastern cultures, and, among Eastern cultures, of Indian, Chinese, and Japanese culture with the aim of comparing them with each other. Drawing on his knowledge that Greek philosophy understood things with form to be equivalent to that which is really real,

Nishida describes Western culture as spatial, as logical-intellectual (richiteki 理知的), as a culture of being, and a culture of things that have form. In contrast, he describes

Buddhist-inflected Eastern culture as “temporal, emotional, and a culture of no-form.”

Nishida singles out Indian, Chinese, and Japanese culture for further discussion. He asserts that in Greek culture, reality was understood to be form, but in Indian culture, reality was understood as impermanence (mujō 無常).20

Next, Nishida examines Chinese culture, which he characterizes as ritualistic, with its customs having been fixed or settled, writing, “In other words, the characteristic of Chinese culture is “Sitte”: ritual. In the beginning every people’s culture also had a shape like “Sitte.”… Chinese ritual has a settled form, a very spatial character.”21 In

19 NKZ 14:398-406. 20 NKZ 14:407-411. 21 NKZ 14:412. 13 contrast, Nishida believes that “Japanese culture has no fixed form,” and that this is an advantage for Japanese culture because it enables it to accept other cultures and put them together in a synthetic world culture. As Nishida writes, “If one has a culture that is fixed, one can either turn another culture into one’s own culture or be destroyed by another culture, but Japanese culture, having the feature of taking in foreign cultures one after another and changing itself, synthesizes various cultures – herein lies the excellence of

Japanese culture.”22

This brief summary reveals three nationalist and two anti-ultranationalist motifs in

Nishida’s lectures. The nationalist motif of “imperial centrality” comes out with

Nishida’s valorization of the imperial house as the “self-contradictory unity” at the center of Japanese history from time immemorial. The nationalist motif of “anti-Sinic differentiation” appears in Nishida’s contrast between the “settled form” of Chinese culture and the non-fixed form of Japanese culture. Finally, the nationalist motif of

“Japanese essentialism” makes itself known through Nishida’s characterization of

Japanese culture as lacking fixedness in its form, which enables it to synthesize other cultures.

Of the two anti-ultranationalist motifs, one is more readily apparent than the other. The more easily seen motif is that of “global orientation,” a vision of Japan that does not exaggerate its own distinctiveness or isolate itself from world cultures. Japan’s means of engaging with the world is essentially synthetic, as Japanese culture takes other cultures into itself and changes itself accordingly. The motif that is less easily seen but

22 NKZ 14:416. 14 still present is that of “academic liberty,” the liberty defended in Nishida’s previously mentioned handout on “The Scholarly Method.” Both motifs appear in Nishida’s thought from the 1930s onwards, and both are bound up with Nishida’s dialogue with other members of “Iwanami culture.”

C. Anti-Ultranationalist Motifs Predating “The Problem of Japanese Culture”

As early as 1935, Nishida was already advancing the vision of Japan’s global orientation that would appear later in the “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures. In a conversation at the ideologically moderate politician Harada Kumao’s house in 1935 — a conversation that was typed up and sent to the last elder statesman (genrō 元老) Saionji

Kinmochi — Nishida said that “Japanese nationalists must accept the fact that Japan is in the wider global world, and that Japan cannot be considered in isolation but only from a comprehensive global perspective.” In the same year, Nishida wrote in a letter to Harada,

“I, though an old scholar, am praying that the government will not misjudge the present situation and will advance far-sighted policies, sustained by the firm recognition that

Japan is a member of the international community.”23

This was also the same year in which Nishida wrote the aforementioned “fascist age” letter to Hidaka Daishirō:

As you know, the present age is a fascist age. Those who are selflessly and deeply

concerned about the future of our country should not clash with the trend of the

day by upholding a purist attitude to fight against it, but should persevere in the

23 Cited in Yusa, 265-267. 15

face of the present situation and make an effort to put the country gradually back

on the right course.24

This particular passage is crucial for understanding Nishida, because it reveals that he hopes to take a path of gradual rather than open resistance to the “fascist age” that he perceives. Such an approach can be seen in his promotion of the anti-ultranationalist motif of global orientation in “The Problem of Japanese Culture.”

Nishida’s concern for academic liberty appears during this period as well. In

January 1936, Nishida wrote a letter that was read aloud at a meeting of the Ministry of

Education’s “Committee for the Renewal of Education and Scholarship.” Nishida had joined this committee, and was encouraged by the fact that Tanabe Hajime and Watsuji

Tetsurō—Nishida’s colleagues and friends of Nishida’s publisher Iwanami Shigeo—were both participating in it. He soon came to believe, however, that it was a “truly biased group” and confided in Watsuji that he believed his efforts would be in vain. In this letter,

Nishida attempted to defend freedom of speech in academia, using an interpretation of the “Japanese spirit” as favorably disposed towards academics that would later resurface in the book version of Problem of Japanese Culture:

To “unify the world of thought of the present and the Japan of the future by means

of the Japanese spirit” [as the government is intent on doing], we need to conduct

scholarly research into the history of Japan and things Japanese and to clarify

their essence objectively…. A spirit that rests only on the past and lacks a future

is no longer living…. Without laying a solid foundation for scholarship in Japan,

24 NKZ 18:545. This translation is based on Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 267 with minor revisions. 16

we have no more hope of firmly avoiding the infiltration of foreign ideas than the

Yellow River has of becoming clear blue. To be sure, this is no easy matter, but

no one with great expectations for Japan can afford to ignore it. To succeed, we

need to give first-rate scholars the freedom not only to engage in basic research in

their various disciplines but also to actively train such scholars.25

However, the best example of Nishida’s adherence to the anti-ultranationalist motif of “academic freedom” is the public lecture he gave at Hibiya Park on October 9,

1937, which was entitled “The Scholarly Method.” This was a public keynote address at the opening ceremony of the national philosophers’ conference, one of a number of conferences that were set up by the Ministry of Education to promote nationalistic education and research policies. As Japan’s foremost philosopher, Nishida was asked to give this address. The address itself, which was later affixed to the end of Problem of

Japanese Culture, offered a defense of rationality and academic scholarship. While

Nishida found what he called the “street theater” aspect of the event distasteful, he wrote,

“In any case, I emphasized, as much as I could, that scholarship had to be respected.”

Nishida later explained to his friend Yamamoto Ryōkichi that his intention was to encourage the Japanese people to hold on to rationality despite the promotion of an illogical conception of the “Japanese spirit” on the part of Japanese ultranationalists.26

This talk would be affixed to Nishida’s eventual published monograph Problem of

Japanese Culture, and it is clear that Nishida drew inspiration from this lecture to create

25 Cited in Yusa, 268-270. 26 Cited in Yusa, 270. 17 the “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures. For example, in both “Scholarly Method” and “Problem of Japanese Culture,” Nishida advances a vision of a global orientation for

Japan. He urges Japan to “develop by absorbing world cultures” in order to “create a new global culture.” Furthermore, he reveals his concern for academic freedom, noting that for the Japanese spirit to become global, it must be scholarly and rational.27

Nishida reserves some of his strongest attacks for those who would try to restrict academic liberty. He argues in his conclusion, for example,

Today, there is a tendency to reject theoretical thinking altogether by uncritically

labeling it as “individualism” or “liberalism.” I agree with the view that the

concept of nation and society should not be based simply on the freedom of the

individual. But to deny the individual — or individual freedom — is nothing short

of coercive despotism. Today, rationalism is carelessly denounced. What simply

denies rationalism, however, is nothing but irrationalism.28

And again:

The bottom line is that without individual freedom there is no creativity. The

concrete principle of generation and development [of culture and history] has to

allow individual freedom and creativity. (In academic research, freedom has to be

guaranteed. No research is possible where we are already given foregone

conclusions.)29

27 Cited in Yusa, 270-277. 28 Cited in Yusa, 277. 29 Cited in Yusa, 277. 18

D. Iwanami Culture and Nishida

Like Nishida, Iwanami Shigeo was a graduate of the philosophy department at

Tokyo Imperial University. He was exposed to Western philosophy when he studied under idealist philosopher Raphael von Koeber at Tokyo, and he was briefly involved with the brand of Christianity espoused by Uchimura Kanzō, founder of the Non-church movement (mukyōkai 無教会).30 In 1913, he founded Iwanami Shoten, a publishing house that quickly rose to fame after publishing Natsume Sōseki’s Kokoro in 1914.

Iwanami had close ties to the Kyoto School; his company eventually became the sole publisher of Nishida’s works.31 Iwanami’s ties to academic scholarship were likewise strong. Through the publication of various books on Eastern and Western thought, he created what Maruyama Masao called the “Iwanami culture” (Iwanami bunka 岩波文化) of intellectual scholarship in Japan.32 This “Iwanami culture,” Maruyama claims, was popular among the intellectual class, which was made up of lawyers, university students, and professors.33 However, Iwanami culture was intellectually and culturally isolated, and lacked the popularity of the more vulgar, right-wing “Kodansha culture” that was popular among the working class.34

Iwanami was no friend to ultranationalism. A frequent critic of the Japanese army in the 1920s and 1930s, he famously said regarding the Second Sino-Japanese War,

“Japan is waging a war that it would be better not to wage.” Iwanami defended Minobe

30 Rimer, “Iwanami Shigeo’s Meiji Education,” 136-150. 31 Yusa, 138. 32 Ariyama, “Iwanami Shigeo,” Encyclopedia Nipponica. 33 Maruyama, Thought and Behaviour, 57-63. 34 Maruyama, 63. 19

Tatsukichi in the 1935 emperor-as-organ theory incident, and was involved in the 1939-

1940 Tsuda incident, for which he was prosecuted before ultimately being acquitted in

1944. With regard to his anti-ultranationalist sentiments, Iwanami was not alone. His opposition to ultranationalism was shared by a number of his allies in Iwanami culture, including Nishida Kitarō.

As mentioned before, the “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures came about as the result of a request from fellow philosopher and member of Iwanami culture Amano

Teiyū. Even before giving the “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures, however,

Nishida’s ties with Iwanami culture were apparent. For example, Nishida, like Iwanami, was opposed to the attacks on Minobe during the emperor-as-organ theory incident, and showed his contempt for the political party Seiyukai when it tried to capitalize on the situation by calling for the “clarification of the kokutai” in the Diet, and thereby gain ultranationalist support. Iwanami, for his part, submitted a letter to Tokyo Asahi defending Minobe. However, Iwanami’s assistant and manager requested that the Asahi company return Iwanami’s letter. Thugs began to appear outside of Iwanami’s store, and in response, Iwanami fled, going on a trip to Europe and America and not returning until

December.35

In addition, the “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures draw on anti- ultranationalist motifs that other members of Iwanami culture were trying to promote at the time. The first part of the Japanese translation of D.T. Suzuki’s book Zen Buddhism and Its Influence on Japanese Culture (Zen to Nihon bunka 禅と日本文化, 1940)

35 Yusa, 262-264. 20 reflects this as well, with Suzuki saying that Japanese culture must not be turned inward like a turtle in its shell, but instead should engage with the rest of the world. In Suzuki’s words,

Japanese people around this time, like baby turtles, seem to tend to draw back and

stiffen their heads and feet, but I believe that to truly grow it is necessary to

extend outward again intellectually and spiritually. We embrace an especially

priceless treasure, do we not?36

Given this quote, it is obvious that both Nishida and Suzuki were promoting the anti- ultranationalist motif of a global orientation.

However, the most important evidence for Nishida’s links with Iwanami culture lies with his engagement with the thought of Watsuji Tetsurō,37 who, in William

LaFleur’s estimation, may be “the key figure” in Iwanami culture.38 LaFleur points out that it was Watsuji who developed the theory of “Japan’s capacity for cultural assimilation and harmony,” a theory that first surfaced in the book Studies of Japanese

Intellectual History, Continued (Zoku Nihon seishinshi kenkyū 続日本精神史研究,

1926).39 According to this theory, Japanese culture accepted numerous influences from abroad, resulting in a culture with a “multilayered character” (jūsōsei 重層性), a term which LaFleur translates as “the quality of being stratified or laminated.”40 The theory,

36 Suzuki, Zen to Nihon bunka, 3. 37 Watsuji Tetsurō, sometimes described as a member of the Kyoto School, has acquired a reputation as a supporter of Japanese militarism. Notably, he worked on the Kokutai no hongi. 38 LaFleur, “A Turning in Taisho,” 234-235. 39 LaFleur, 254. 40 LaFleur, 254. 21

Lafleur points out, was “later so commonly accepted by many Japanese that Watsuji’s formulation of it is easily forgotten.”41 The main thrust of Nishida’s argument in the

“Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures parallels Watsuji’s formulation by also arguing that Japanese culture’s essence lies in its ability to accept influences from abroad and integrate them so as to form a “synthetic culture.”

Watsuji is recognized today as a major contributor to theories of Japanese essentialism. Peter Dale suggests that Watsuji reproduced the “ethnocentric self- definitions” prevalent in German nationalism, and implies that his theory of the state is

“little more than a ‘totalitarian state-ethics.’”42 Kevin Doak, in his excellent overview A

History of Nationalism in Modern Japan, argues that Watsuji’s best known work Climate

(Fūdo 風土) offers an understanding of Japanese culture that was aligned with ethnic nationalism (minzokushugi 民族主義).43 Climate places Japan within the category of the

“monsoon culture,” but ultimately argues that the Japanese climate is a “unique blend of monsoon and temperate climates.”44 This places Japan’s ethnic character in the position of being the best of both worlds: neither fully Asian nor fully Western, Japan is, in

Watsuji’s eyes, utterly unique.

Watsuji and Nishida had known each other for a long time; in fact, Michiko Yusa reports that as early as 1924, before his retirement from Kyoto Imperial University,

Nishida had been trying to recruit Watsuji for a position at Kyoto.45 This plan came to

41 LaFleur, 254. 42 Dale, Japanese Uniqueness, 215, 218. 43 Doak, A History of Nationalism, 236-237. 44 Doak, 236-237. 45 Yusa, 195. 22 fruition in 1925, when not only Watsuji but also the philosopher Amano Teiyū (who would later invite Nishida to give the “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures) accepted positions at Kyoto Imperial University.46 Yusa further reports that Nishida and Watsuji had been collaborating for some time before the “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures.

By September of 1934, Nishida had completed work on an essay called “The Forms of

Ancient Cultures, East and West, Seen from a Metaphysical Perspective” (Keijijōgakuteki tachiba kara mita tōzai kodai bunka no keitai, 形而上学的立場から見た東西古代文化

の形態).47 In this work, Nishida compared Eastern and Western culture in an attempt to formulate a cultural typology.48 He understood Western culture as infused with

Christianity and “sustained by Being,” and Eastern culture as infused with Buddhism and sustained by “the determination of Nothingness.”49 Yusa translates Nishida as saying the following: “[E]ach culture must maintain its uniqueness in the global society, even though it originally developed itself by interaction with other cultures. Only that way can it contribute to the formation of a truly global culture.”50 This statement is clearly mirrored in the content of the “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures.

Yusa writes clearly about the close ties that Nishida had with Watsuji regarding this project: “Nishida’s attempt at establishing a cultural typology was fully worked out by Watsuji Tetsurō in his book Climate, published in 1935. In fact Nishida and Watsuji

46 Yusa, 200. 47 Cited in Yusa, 259. 48 Yusa, 260. 49 Yusa, 260. 50 Yusa, 260. 23 had been discussing cultural typologies for some time.”51 That Yusa is right about this link between Climate and “Forms of Ancient Cultures” is made obvious when one considers Nishida’s usage of the word “monsoon” to describe Japanese culture. As

Nishida writes,

Against this [Greek culture], our country’s special character can be said to be in

that emotionality—it is not in looking at eternal things on the outside, but shifting

from thing to thing on the inside; it is not transcending time, but moving within

time—thus it is thought of as monsoon-like.52

In light of Watsuji’s portrayal of Japan in Fūdo as a “monsoon culture,” the connection is obvious.

Nishida’s selection of Greek, Indian, Chinese, and Japanese cultures to compare to each other is itself a trope inherited from Watsuji’s 1919 classic Pilgrimages to the

Ancient Temples in Nara (Koji junrei 古寺巡礼), which uses the same general categories—Greek, Indian, Chinese, and Japanese— to refer to the major “cultures” of the East and West.53 This, combined with the fact that Watsuji and Nishida are known to have collaborated on similar projects, reinforces the argument that Watsuji exercised great influence on Nishida’s writing.

E. Nishida, Konoe and Kido

51 Yusa, 260-261. 52 NKZ 7:443. Cited in Yusa, 260. 53 Watsuji, Pilgrimages, 14-15, 60-61, 67-68, 128, 130-131, 170-171. 24

In addition to his close ties with members of Iwanami culture like Watsuji and

Suzuki, Nishida also had a close relationship with politicians Konoe Fumimaro and Kido

Kōichi. Yusa reports that Konoe, Kido, and Harada Kumao (a close friend of Nishida’s and a recipient of many of his letters) were referred to as “Saionji’s three favorites,” because they were seen as moderate followers of Saionji Kinmochi.54 Both Konoe and

Kido were adjacent to Iwanami culture. In 1933, Iwanami Shigeo found Nishida a house in Kamakura, and Konoe Fumimaro and Harada Kumao bought it as a present for

Nishida.55

Nishida’s main concern when he spoke to Konoe and Kido was the prevention of an ultranationalist government policy that stifled education and research. His recorded interactions with Konoe and Kido revolve mainly around government policy towards education, and during these interactions Nishida consistently expressed his concern for academic freedom. It is thus possible that Nishida’s engagement with Konoe and Kido was motivated primarily by a shared adherence to the anti-ultranationalist motif of

“academic liberty.” That being said, because both Konoe and Kido supported ultranationalist militarism in China, Nishida’s friendly interactions with them call into question his promotion of the nationalist motif of “anti-Sinic differentiation” in “The

Problem of Japanese Culture.”

Konoe was influential in the late Taishō and early Shōwa periods. In the words of historian Herbert Bix,

54 Yusa, 255. However, Herbert Bix takes a contrasting view, claiming that Harada, Konoe, and Kido were opposed to Saionji in that they “shared in common the belief, eschewed by Saionji, that the authority of the emperor should be used to solve political problems.” See Bix, Hirohito, 175. 55 Yusa, 256. 25

In early Shōwa, Konoe was the rising star among young conservative and radical-

right members of the House of Peers, a body he was soon to lead, first as vice

president in 1931, then as president in 1933. His ideological vision of an Asian

and Chinese economy dominated by Japan, and his view that Japan’s mission was

to save Asia from European encroachment, had wide appeal. Konoe was on the

closest personal terms with the key members of every court group from the

moment he made his debut on the political stage in 1921 until his death by suicide

in December 1945.56

Konoe’s popularity was due to a number of factors, not the least of which was his extensive political experience. He had served as part of the Japanese delegation to the

League of Nations for the Paris Peace Conference in 1919, and witnessed firsthand

United States and Great Britain’s refusal to approve of Japan’s proposed “racial equality clause.” He played a major role in the passing of Japan’s universal manhood suffrage in

1925. A member of the aristocratic Fujiwara family, Konoe was also able to connect with common people. He was described as having enjoyed “the broad support of many groups on the right and the left, including military officers, business leaders, party politicians, scholars, and journalists,” and as a “sympathetic politician who could understand the feelings of the younger generation.”57 Even before he became prime minister, the Shōwa

Research Organization think tank had already been created under his auspices.58 Because

56 Bix, 176. 57 Mimura, Planning for Empire, 146. 58 This organization has been described as fascist. See Fletcher, New Order, 3-4. 26 of his reputation for bridging political divides, Saionji saw Konoe as the last hope for dealing with the military’s demands and preventing war with China from breaking out.59

Nishida’s hopes, however, centered not on avoiding war with China, but rather on preserving academic freedom. In fact, Nishida wrote in a letter to Harada Kumao of his hopes for Konoe:

As regards the area of education and research, the government may not have an

alternative policy at the moment, but it will be desirable if Konoe at least

demonstrates his determination and tells the world that the government will not

take an aggressive, narrow-minded course.60

And again, in another letter to Harada:

If Konoe cannot carry out what the people expected of his administration, at least

I want his cabinet to leave concrete testimony that it did try (in the way the people

wanted them to do)…. I’m only hoping that he won’t be swayed by a certain

[ultranationalistic] faction and make a faux pas…. The attitude of the Ministry of

Education…is that Japan had become too Westernized in the past and that it is

now time to correct it by putting narrow-minded Japanists (nihonshugisha) at the

helm. The ministry lacks any firm basis on which to decide what course Japan

should take in education and research in order to create a Japan that can play an

important role in the international community.61

59 Yusa, 284. 60 Cited in Yusa, 284. 61 Based on Yusa, 284-285, with minor revisions. 27

Michiko Yusa records that Nishida soon became disillusioned with Konoe, believing him to be indecisive, and quotes Kōsaka Masaaki’s recollection that “Professor

Nishida used to say Konoe was no good, but while saying so, he was deeply concerned about him.”62 This assessment, while harsh, is consistent with previous scholarship on

Konoe. Maruyama Masao famously described Konoe as someone who most of his readers could identify as an exemplary case of “weak nerves,” and cited Kido’s recollection that “Whenever any difficult question arose he [Konoe] frequently said, ‘I want to give up.’”63

However, it seems that Konoe supported Japan’s expansion into Manchuria and

China, actions which were militarist and thus ultranationalist, through personal conviction. In 1933, in the wake of the Manchurian incident, Konoe wrote, “As a result of our one million annual population increase, our national economic life is extremely burdened. We cannot wait for a rationalizing adjustment of the world system. Therefore we have chosen to advance into Manchuria and Mongolia as our only means of survival.”64 Historian Ienaga Saburō records Konoe as saying in 1937 that “North China is vital, particularly for our economic development,”65 and claims that Konoe “favored a strong foreign policy and intervention in China.”66 Ben-Ami Shillony reports that when the Marco Polo Bridge Incident occurred in July of 1937, Konoe, after “an initial hesitation,” asked for “a crusade to crush the ‘traitorous Chiang Kai-shek regime.”67

62 Cited in Yusa, 295. 63 Maruyama, 97. 64 Bix, 266-267. 65 Ienaga, The Pacific War, 68-69. 66 Ienaga, 70. 67 Shillony, Politics and Culture, 2. 28

Herbert Bix blames Konoe for the expansion of the war against China after the Marco

Polo Bridge incident and the Tungchow massacre, writing,

[I]t can hardly be said that the Japanese government was being dragged into war

by its own forces. Rather it is more accurate to say that Konoe, backed by one

group in the army, had resolved to exploit a small incident [the Tungchow

massacre] for the larger aim of punishing the Chinese army and securing control

of the Peking-Tientsin area.68

Whether or not Bix is right in his assessment that Konoe bears responsibility for the war’s expansion, it is clear that Konoe’s support for the war continued for years. Even in

1940, when it was clear that Japan’s progress in the war had stalled, Konoe continued his support, referring to it as a “holy war” fought as a “defense against communism.”69

During the period between the end of his first term as prime minister in January

1939 and the beginning of his second term in July 1940, Konoe prepared for his return by launching a movement to support the establishment of what he called the New Order

(shintaisei 新体制) in Japanese politics. 70 Ideally, this New Order would dissolve the political parties in the Diet, strengthen the cabinet’s authority, and, crucially, muster the full force of the nation in support of the war in China.71 The dissolution of the parties was successful, but the meaning of the New Order itself was vague and the form that it would take was subject to debate.72 When discussing possible ideas for the form of the New

68 Bix, 322. 69 Ienaga, 76. 70 Shillony, 2-3. 71 Shillony, 2-3. 72 Shillony, 2-3. 29

Order, Konoe turned to members of various factions, including leaders of the Minseitō and Seiyūkai political parties in the Diet, members of the Japanist Right, and individuals who were part of the group known as the “reform bureaucrats” (kakushin kanryō 革新官

僚), some of whom advocated the establishment of a “fascist party” based on the Nazi party and the Concordia association.73 Ultimately, however, Konoe rejected the reform bureaucrats’ ideas, choosing instead the comparatively moderate solution of the “Imperial

Rule Assistance Association” (IRAA), an organization that has been described as

“unwieldy” and “heavily bureaucratic,” while also lacking “centralized leadership” and

“a distinct mandate.”74 The IRAA was a far weaker alternative to the political system envisioned by the reform bureaucrats. As Ienaga notes, “The IRAA did succeed in imposing scores of petty regulations. However, it failed to become a powerful mass organization capable of mobilizing spontaneous enthusiastic cooperation with the war effort.”75

Nishida appears to have had some sympathy for Konoe’s New Order in its early stages. Yusa reports that in 1940, on the eve of Konoe’s second term as prime minister,

Nishida had a meeting with Konoe during which Konoe showed Nishida a draft of his plans for the New Order.76 Nishida said that the New Order could be successful, but told

Konoe that the most important element would be the selection of leaders.77 Although

Yusa emphasizes that Nishida soon had misgivings about the New Order—in a letter to

73 Mimura, 146-147. 74 Mimura, 147-148. 75 Ienaga, 112. 76 Yusa, 308. 77 Yusa, 308. 30 his friend Yamamoto he said, “I don’t know where Konoe’s New Order is headed. I fear that the consequences will be far worse than those of a government run by bureaucrats”78—the fact remains that he was not immediately dismissive of the New

Order. Given that an important goal of the New Order was to mobilize the nation in support of the war in China, it is reasonable to conclude that Nishida was not diametrically opposed to this war.

Compared to his view of Konoe’s indecisive nature, Nishida’s view of Kido

Kōichi was far more positive. When Kido was made Minister of Education in 1937,

Nishida rejoiced, saying that Kido had “progressive ideas” and that he would “make a good advisor to Konoe, who tends to be influenced by the extremist faction.”79 Because of Kido, Nishida joined the advisory board of the academic department of the Ministry of

Education, justifying his choice to Watsuji Tetsurō in the following way:

Now that Kido is minister, I can frankly tell him what I think. Moreover, Kido is

different from Konoe in that he shares our view. This may be the only opportunity

for us to voice our opinion to the Ministry of Education. When I saw Kido the

other day, he agreed with me on each point I brought up, but he intimated to me

that it was difficult for him to implement any change, given the present-day

political climate. He hoped I would join the advisory board, but he also told me

that he would feel sorry for me because most likely no significant change would

be brought about.80

78 Cited in Yusa, 308. 79 Cited in Yusa, 286. 80 Cited in Yusa, 286. 31

Kido’s pessimism was prescient, because Nishida would soon find himself isolated within the Ministry of Education. In 1938, Nishida complained to the head of the academic department that the Ministry of Education was simply following along with the demands of the Home Ministry and the Army, and that this led to irrational accusations against philosophical inquiry.81 To make matters worse, other members of the Ministry of

Education showed open hostility towards Nishida, and Nishida believed that this hostility was the result of critiques against the Center for National Spiritual Culture that he had voiced to officials in the academic department.82

Nishida’s frustration is palpable in a letter to Kido in 1938, in which he—using terms reminiscent of the “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures—complained about the state of the humanities in Japan by means of the use of the anti-ultranationalist motif of

“global orientation:”

The idea held these days that each country in the world has to be awakened to its

ethnic and nationalistic identity may appear on the surface to deny the “global

world”.… But actually, each country has to stand on its own feet as a nation-in-

the-world. I think that the word “world” has become something real and urgent. I

deplore that this fact is not understood by today’s Japanese nationalists. The

government has to determine its policies with the understanding that today’s

Japan indeed faces the world. In particular, the policies affecting education—“the

nation’s great task of one hundred years”—must be firmly based on this

81 Yusa, 290. 82 Yusa, 290. 32

foundation. I think that military men actually better understand this point and

have adopted this kind of global perspective. In stark contrast, those who engage

in the humanities promote a view that averts the eyes of the Japanese people from

the world.83

This quote is important because of its ambiguity. On the one hand, its defense of the word “world” against Japanese nationalists develops the anti-ultranationalist motif of

“global orientation.” Nishida’s urging that Japan should stand as a “nation-in-the-world” is to be understood, implicitly, as a rebuke to those in the humanities who overemphasize

Japan’s uniqueness and thereby “avert the eyes” of Japanese people from that which is good in the outside world. The quote also shows that the promotion of academic liberty is fundamental to the strengthening of Japan’s global orientation. Reading between the lines in light of the recent emperor-as-organ theory incident, one likely interpretation of

Nishida’s argument is that ultranationalists in the humanities must not be allowed to constrict education in a way that excludes those ideas—such as Minobe’s—which can be considered “foreign” to Japan.

On the other hand, the statement that it is “military men” who understand Japan’s

“global orientation” better than those in the humanities leans towards ultranationalism, especially in the context of the fighting that was occurring in China at the time of

Nishida’s remarks. One charitable reading of Nishida’s remarks could be that certain

Western-educated officers in the imperial Japanese navy were cognizant of the

83 Cited in Yusa, 292. 33 importance of Western-style education. Nevertheless, Nishida’s praise for the military at this time should raise questions about the degree of his opposition to ultranationalism.

Nishida’s unreserved sharing of his ideas with Kido suggests a kind of intellectual affinity between the two that indicates agreement on several political issues. Both appear to share a support for the anti-ultranationalist motifs of “academic liberty” and Japan’s

“global orientation.” However, Kido, like Konoe, has also been implicated in Japanese ultranationalism. According to Bix, Kido was “sympathetic to the military’s attempt to resolve the Manchurian problem by force.”84 When on June 1, 1940, Emperor Hirohito moved to appoint Kido to the position of Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal, Saionji declined to recommend Kido, and this refusal, according to Bix, reveals Saionji’s “qualms about

Kido’s right-wing bent.”85 As Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal, Kido was extremely close to the emperor, and allegedly used his position to “move the emperor closer to those leaders in the army and navy who refused to abandon the China war and imagined they could extricate themselves from their predicament by taking advantage of the European war, in which Germany looked to be the likely winner.”86 Given these allegations that

Kido was a supporter of Japanese expansionism into Manchuria and China, Nishida’s involvement with Kido speaks to a certain degree of ambiguity with regard to his political stance.

F. Conclusion

84 Bix, 237. 85 Bix, 370. 86 Bix, 371. 34

The “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures reveal a Nishida who advanced anti- ultranationalist motifs by defending academic liberty and promoting a vision of “Japan in the world.” At the same time, however, the lectures contain nationalist motifs such as the promotion of Japanese essentialism, a deliberate denigration of China in relation to Japan, and the interpretation of the imperial house as central to Japanese history. Nishida’s defense of academic freedom paralleled attempts by members of Iwanami culture to defend freedom of speech in academia, and his vision for Japan’s “global orientation” supported the writings of thinkers in Iwanami culture like Suzuki Daisetz and Watsuji

Tetsurō. At the same time, however, Nishida’s nationalism is reflected in his affinity for

Konoe Fumimarō and Kido Kōichi. Konoe and Kido, despite their support for the anti- ultranationalist motif of “academic liberty,” took ultranationalist stances towards China and played a role in the expansion of the Second Sino-Japanese War. In light of this fact, it is not possible to regard Nishida’s position in “The Problem of Japanese Culture” as being wholly anti-ultranationalist.

It is important to note, then, that Nishida’s position is ambiguous enough to admit a variety of different, but valid interpretations. In this vein, it is instructive to analyze one portrayal of Tanabe Hajime, another member of Iwanami culture who, like Nishida, dealt with the issue of Japan’s heterogeneity. Naoki Sakai argues that Tanabe Hajime’s “Logic of Species” (Shu no ronri), by giving a “philosophically rigorous socio-political account” of the “multi-ethnic social reality” of the Japanese empire, refutes ethnic nationalism in order to aid Japanese ultranationalism.87 Tanabe had argued that the state, because of its

87 Sakai, “Ethnicity and Species,” 33, 42. 35 role as a mediator, needs to contain a multiplicity of “species” (or peoples) in order to exist, and thus, the Japanese nation-state necessarily had to be multi-ethnic.88 Sakai argues that this reasoning implicitly endorses colonialist violence against minorities, even if Tanabe would not have recognized it as such.89 Sakai’s framing of Tanabe’s rhetoric against the background of Japan’s colonialist project reveals a certain affinity between

Tanabe’s theorizing and colonial violence.

In contrast, the framing employed in this paper sets Nishida’s “Problem of

Japanese Culture” within the context of ultranationalist attacks on Japan’s academic liberty and global orientation. Within the context of the ongoing attacks on “foreign” ideas in the humanities, it was anti-ultranationalist to advocate for academic liberty that would enable scholars to advocate such ideas. Likewise, within the context of the exaggeration of Japanese uniqueness by Japanist forces, it was anti-ultranationalist to argue for a global orientation on the basis of the claim that Japan has a syncretic culture.

88 Sakai, 42-43. 89 Sakai, 43. 36

Chapter 2. Iwanami Under Attack

The Problem of Japanese Culture (1940)

A. Introduction

In early 1940, with The Problem of Japanese Culture on the verge of being published by Iwanami Shoten, Nishida wrote the following note to his friend Yamamoto

Ryokichi:

The Problem of Japanese Culture…is a kind of ad lib work for me and not truly

polished. I know that I should have given more detailed accounts for the sake of

the general reader, but I didn’t have enough time to do that. Also, there is that

faction, Minoda and his clique, that is trying to do me in. I had to take many

precautions when choosing words, especially in places where I dealt with

sensitive subjects. Because I had to waste my energy on such stupid concerns, I

became quite fed up. I would imagine they will take up this book regardless of

what I said and attack me. I’m also worried about what might happen to

Iwanami.90

Nishida’s frustration is readily apparent in this passage. It is obvious that the writing of

The Problem of Japanese Culture was a far more stressful affair for Nishida than his

90 Cited in Yusa, 306-307, with minor revisions. 37 giving of the “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures at Kyoto Imperial University two years prior. The situation had clearly changed, and Nishida now found not only himself but also Iwanami Shigeo at the mercy of hostile external forces.

This moment marks the beginning of an important shift, one that represents a crucial transition in Nishida’s thought. Nishida’s response to the pressure was to adapt, shifting the originally anti-ultranationalist motifs of “global orientation” and “academic liberty” in a nationalist direction and turning the nationalist motif of “Japanese uniqueness” towards ultranationalism. These changes were those that Nishida deemed necessary to protect not only himself, but also his publisher Iwanami Shigeo.

B. A Summary of The Problem of Japanese Culture

In his preface, Nishida explains the structure of the book in a straightforward fashion:

Regarding the topic of this book, chapters two, three, and four summarize the

roots of my thought. Based on these three chapters, the chapters from chapter five

onwards examine and consider the questions of from what point of view and in

what manner we ought to look at the problem of Eastern and Western culture and

the problem of Japanese spirit (Nippon seishin 日本精神).91

In line with Nishida’s opening statement, the book can be roughly divided into three sections:

91 NKZ 12:277. 38

1. An introduction to the “problem of Eastern and Western culture” and the

“problem of Japanese spirit” in the first chapter;

2. An examination of the roots of Nishida’s thought in chapters two to four;

3. Nishida’s actual analysis of the problem of Japanese culture in chapters five to

eight.

As mentioned above, Nishida does not conceive of the book as a systematic work, but rather as something “ad lib,”92 and it shows. The book deals with a number of interconnected topics, but its logical structure is not obvious. Nishida’s first chapter characterizes the Japanese spirit as “fair and impartial”; as such, it is fitting for the

“academic spirit” to be based on the Japanese spirit.93 He hopes to clarify what Japanese culture is order to develop Japanese culture as a “world culture” and by means of this, he hopes that Eastern culture can contribute to the world.94 Nishida hopes to discover a theoretical base for Eastern culture by means of “going to the truth of things,” a term he borrows from kokugaku scholar Motoori Norinaga.95

In chapters two through four, Nishida aims to provide his readers with an understanding of the various expressions of “self-contradictory unity” that will be crucial to his analysis. In chapter two, Nishida characterizes the “real world,” by which he means the world of historical reality, as a “self-contradictory unity” between the one and the many.96 In chapter three, he lists and analyzes a number of other expressions of self-

92 Yusa, 306-307. 93 NKZ 12:279. 94 NKZ 12:281. 95 NKZ 12:285. 96 NKZ 12:292. 39 contradictory unity: that between the subject and the environment,97 that between the cell and the body,98 and that between the species and the individual.99 In chapter four, Nishida analyzes human society. According to Nishida, human beings, unlike other animals, have the ability to create “public things” that can be passed down through generations.100

These things make up cultures, and Nishida defines “cultural development” as something that forms new human beings and creates a new human species.101 Finally, Nishida writes that there must be a “new human form” born from “today’s world struggle.”102

Chapter five, a crucial chapter in the book, offers Nishida’s analysis of Japan’s political system. According to Nishida, throughout its history, the core of Japanese culture has consistently been the “imperial house,”103 which he characterizes as the “self- contradictory unity of subjectively one and individually many.”104 Pointing out that Japan is no longer closed to the world as it was under the Tokugawa shogunate, Nishida refers to Japan as “Japan in the world,” and says that the “principle of Japan’s formation must become…the principle of world formation.”105 He cautions against changing Japan’s imperial way into imperialism,106 and argues that Japan must “contribute to the world” by finding the “principle of self-formation of the world of self-contradictory unity itself at the bottom of our historical development.”107 Such a contribution would be the

97 NKZ 12:305. 98 NKZ 12:306. 99 NKZ 12:311. 100 NKZ 12:326. 101 NKZ 12:331. 102 NKZ 12:334. 103 NKZ 12:335. 104 NKZ 12:335-336. 105 NKZ 12:341. 106 NKZ 12:341. 107 NKZ 12:341. 40

“realization of the imperial way” and the “true meaning of hakkō ichiu 八紘一宇 (“eight corners [of the world] under one roof").”108 Nishida then moves on to praise Japan’s incorporation of foreign cultures into its own, characterizing Japan’s culture as one of self-denial,109 and the Japanese spirit as one that “comprehensively unifies all things.”110

Chapters six and seven are devoted to comparisons among cultures, privileging

Japan’s role in the world. In chapter six, Nishida compares and contrasts Greek, Chinese,

Indian, and Japanese culture, concluding ultimately that Japan has the ability to unite

Western and Eastern culture. The comparison he draws between Japan and China is essentially the same as the one advanced in the lectures—denigrating China’s “fixed” status while praising Japan’s receptiveness to other cultures—the main difference being that Japan is no longer regarded as a culture without form. In chapter seven, Nishida compares and contrasts Western and Eastern culture with regard to logic, suggesting ultimately that Japanese intuition, or “active intuition,” could supplement Western science by providing objective knowledge.111

Finally, in chapter eight, Nishida discusses what he calls the current “historical crisis.” Nishida, following Hegel, believes that history is a history of “ethnic conflicts,”112 and that these conflicts will lead to the creation of a new culture and new human beings.113 This creation happens through “self-contradictory unity,”114 and “great

108 NKZ 12:341. 109 NKZ 12:346. 110 NKZ 12:347. 111 NKZ 12:372. 112 NKZ 12:374. 113 NKZ 12:374. 114 NKZ 12:378. 41 creations” are the result of “great traditions.”115 Nishida sees this creation as being the result of the progress of the historical world, and writes that the state must fulfill its mission of “historical world creation” as a “truly ethical subject.”116 He then ends the book with the words: “Surely today that which is truly subjective [meaning Japan] has come out onto the surface in the historical world.”117

This brief overview suggests many similarities between The Problem of Japanese

Culture and the lectures on which it was based. Both carry forward the anti- ultranationalist motifs of “academic liberty” and “global orientation,” and both also contain the nationalist motifs of “anti-Sinic differentiation,” “Japanese essentialism” and

“imperial centrality.” Yet, in his book, Nishida pushes many of these motifs towards interpretations that are compatible with ultranationalism.

C. Continuities and Divergences

While an overview of the contents is sufficient for understanding the similarities and differences between these two works in general terms, a more detailed analysis can reveal the specific, ultranationalist-leaning elements that Nishida inserts into the motifs of

The Problem of Japanese Culture. In brief, “The Problem of Japanese Culture” and The

Problem of Japanese Culture are similar in terms of motifs, but different in terms of substance and tone. The key similarities lie in the specifics of Nishida’s development of the anti-ultranationalist motif of “global orientation” and of the nationalist motif of

115 NKZ 12:378. 116 NKZ 12:383. 117 NKZ 12:383. 42

“imperial centrality.” The key differences lie in the fact that Nishida turns the anti- ultranationalist motifs of “global orientation” and “academic liberty” to more nationalist positions, and turns the nationalist motif of “Japanese uniqueness” towards ultranationalism.

Continuities

In both the book and the lectures, Nishida develops the motif of “global orientation” by rejecting Japanese exclusivism. The first line of lecture three reads,

“Before this, I said that Eastern culture, in becoming worldly, does not just stop at its distinctiveness, but sheds new light on Western culture, and therefore, a new world culture must be created.”118 These lines parallel a passage from chapter one of the book:

“Simply clarifying its distinctiveness is insufficient. In today’s Japan, which is supposed to stand as Japan in the world, this point must be especially noted.”119 In both, Nishida calls for a “Japan in the world,” and rejects an unhealthy focus on Japanese distinctiveness that denigrates Japan’s relationship to the rest of the world.

Nishida also includes in both the lectures and the book a crucial passage about

Eastern culture’s future contribution to world history: “And today when East and West have become a single world, it is also asked in what sense Eastern culture will contribute to future world history as a world culture.”120 This line, which is introduced in the lectures and repeated word-for-word in the book, is central to Nishida’s understanding of

118 NKZ 14:407. 119 NKZ 12:281. 120 NKZ 12:281. 43

Japan’s global orientation because he implies in both works that it is Japan that will allow

Eastern culture to make such a contribution.

Both the book and the lectures, explicating the motif of “global orientation,” offer praise for Japan’s synthetic nature. The lectures show evident admiration for Japan’s

“synthetic culture,” and Nishida in his book defines the Japanese spirit in a synthetic way, writing, “It is the Japanese spirit to synthesize all things and try to grasp them easily, simply, and clearly.”121 This too is an essential part of the development of the motif of

“global orientation” because it understands Japan’s role as a repository for other cultures.

Finally, both the book and the lectures take the imperial house to be at the center of Japanese history. In the lectures, Nishida writes that “the history of Japan became centered on Japan’s imperial house…”122 and that Japan “came to the present day having self-contradictory unity in the imperial house.”123 Likewise, in the book, Nishida writes of “looking back on thousands of years of our country’s culture which developed with the imperial house as the center…”124 and mentions that “in our country‘s history, the imperial house was everywhere the being of nothingness, and was a self-contradictory unity.”125 Thus, both the book and the lectures support a nationalist interpretation of

Japan as having a history that is intimately connected with the imperial house. It is important, however, to remember that statements like these are nationalist but not ultranationalist, having a foundation in the Meiji Constitution, whose first article reads,

121 NKZ 12:347. 122 NKZ 14:395. 123 NKZ 14:395. 124 NKZ 12:335. 125 NKZ 12:336. 44

“The Empire of Japan shall be reigned over and governed by a line of Emperors unbroken for ages eternal.” Thus, while it is nationalist, it is important to recognize that the motif of “imperial centrality” is not an ultranationalist one.

Divergences

Nishida’s definition of the “problem of Japanese culture” reveals a crucial difference between the book and the lectures with regard to the motif of “global orientation.” In the lectures, Nishida understood the “problem of Japanese culture” to be a problem of how to “digest and absorb” (shōka sesshu 消化攝取) world cultures, and thereby to make them a part of Japanese culture. This reveals Nishida’s fundamentally synthetic image of Japanese culture, one that is made up of digested foreign cultures absorbed into Japan: “So we Japanese people grew up in a linear culture, and today, when it has been bumped into by the cultures of the outside world, how to digest and absorb world cultures, and what kind of attitude to take towards world cultures — today this is becoming our “problem of Japanese culture.”126 However, in the book, Nishida’s formulation of the “problem” is significantly different: “Today the problem of the culture of our country is this: while preserving the features of the ‘vertical world’ that have been nurtured for thousands of years, we must extend them to the ‘horizontal world.’”127

There are several important things to note about this new formulation of the problem that is central to both the book and the lectures. The first is that Nishida does

126 NKZ 14:399. 127 NKZ 12:349. 45 away with the lectures’ term “digest and absorb,” a term which never appears in the book. The second is that Nishida urges the preservation of Japan’s characteristics (the

“vertical world”), and the extension of these characteristics to the wider world (the

“horizontal world”) in the book. This is of course the opposite of what he urges in the lectures, where he calls for Japan to take in (“digest and absorb”) influences from the wider world. These contrasting elements combine to reveal a Nishida who is, for whatever reason, making his tone more nationalistic.

The anti-ultranationalist motif of “academic liberty” also is turned in a more nationalistic direction in the book through the invocation of kokugaku scholar Motoori

Norinaga. At the beginning of The Problem of Japanese Culture, following Norinaga,

Nishida characterizes Japanese culture as having a kind of truth-seeking spirit: “As

Motoori Norinaga explained in Naobi no mitama, ‘It [the Way of the Gods] is nothing but the way of going to things,’ which should be taken in the sense of going straight to the truth of things.”128 Nishida draws a contrast between Japan, with its Norinagan truth- seeking spirit, and China and India, which lack such a spirit. As Nishida writes, “Both

Chinese culture and Indian culture had great things at their roots. Nevertheless, because they were lacking in the spirit of going thoroughly to the truth, they hardened and became fixed.”129 Thus, in the book, Nishida portrays Chinese and Indian culture as not having the Norinagan truth-seeking that Japan possesses, and as becoming fixed and hardened as

128 This translation is based on de Bary, Keene, and Tsunoda, Sources of Japanese Tradition, 859, with minor revisions. 129 NKZ 12:280. 46 a result. In so doing, he links the anti-ultranationalist motif of “academic liberty” to the nationalist motif of “anti-Sinic differentiation,” drawing it further to the Right.

In Nishida’s book, the nationalist motif of “Japanese essentialism” undergoes several important developments. One of these is the absence of the lectures’ claim that

Japan lacks a fixed shape. In the lectures, Nishida binds his conception of Japan’s ability to synthesize various cultures to his conception of fixed or un-fixed cultures. He writes,

Japanese culture has no fixed shape…. If one has a culture that is fixed, one can

either make another culture adopt one’s own culture or be destroyed by other

cultures, but Japanese culture, having the distinctive feature of taking in foreign

cultures and changing itself, synthesizes various foreign cultures — that is the

excellence of Japanese culture.130

Thus, in the lectures, Nishida holds that it is because Japanese culture lacks a fixed shape that it can synthesize foreign cultures, and that Japanese culture’s “excellent point” is its ability to take in foreign cultures and to change itself accordingly. In contrast, in the book, unlike in the lectures, Nishida does not refer to Japanese culture as having “no fixed shape,” choosing instead to refer to it as “receptive.”

Nishida further develops the motif of “Japanese essentialism” in the fifth chapter of the book, where he lays out Japan’s political system using terms like “principle of world formation,” the “imperial way,” and hakkō ichiu, all of which are absent from the lectures. As a foreground to the discussion of these terms, Nishida writes,

130 NKZ 14:413, 416. 47

But today 's Japan is no longer a solitary island in the East, nor is it a closed

society. It is a Japan of the world, a Japan that stands facing the world. The

principle of Japan’s formation must become, in other words, the principle of

world formation.131

Here, Nishida creates an intersection between the motifs of “Japanese essentialism” and

“global orientation.” If the “principle of Japan’s formation,” which should be understood as that which makes Japan exist in its current form—a form that is centered on the imperial house—is to be turned into a principle of “world formation,” it is easy to see how this formulation leans towards ultranationalism, especially in the context of the contemporary intensification of the war in China.

However, Nishida follows this ultranationalist-leaning passage with this ambiguous caution: “I think that the thing that should be cautioned against the most is making Japan into a subject (shutai 主体). That amounts to no less than making the imperial way into military rule, and is nothing other than making the imperial way into imperialism.”132 This passage has been seen by Michiko Yusa and others as evidence of

Nishida’s opposition to militarism,133 and Sugawara Jun has noted that this passage shows evidence that Nishida read Sun Yat-sen and Lenin, with the term “imperial way” being roughly equivalent to Sun Yat-sen’s “Kingly Way” as noted in his 1924 speech

131 NKZ 12:341. 132 NKZ 12:341. 133 See Jacinto, “Return of the Past,” 147, Yusa, “Nishida and Totalitarianism,” 126, and Ueda, “Nishida, Nationalism, and War,” 84-85. 48

“Pan-Asianism,” and with the term “imperialism” originating from Lenin’s conception of the monopolistic, colonialist last stage of capitalism in Imperialism.134

At any rate, Nishida’s alleged expression of anti-ultranationalist caution could be read as being undermined in what he says soon afterwards:

By means of finding out the principle of self-formation of the world of self-

contradictory unity itself at the root of our historical development, we must

contribute to the world. That is the manifestation of the imperial way, and must be

the true meaning of hakkō ichiu 八紘一宇 (“eight corners [of the world] under

one roof").135

Here, Nishida takes a slogan often used by ultranationalists—hakkō ichiu —and reinterprets it as having the meaning: “contributing to the world.” However, this reinterpretation is complicated by the question of just what Nishida means when he asserts that Japan must “contribute to the world.”

I argue that Nishida’s notion of “contribution” should be understood in light of his understanding of “construction.” In an important passage near the end of chapter five,

Nishida introduces Japan as the “constructor of East Asia,” a term that does not appear in the lectures. Here, Nishida writes,

We must not conflict with other subjects as a subject, but must engulf other

subjects as the world. And we must organize one world united in a state of self-

contradictory unity. I think that herein lies Japan’s mission as constructor of East

134 Sugawara, The Kyoto School, 57. 135 NKZ 12:341. 49

Asia. Opposing other subjects as a subject, denying other subjects and trying to

build oneself up — these are nothing other than imperialism. These are not the

Japanese spirit.136

Nishida’s discussion of conflicting subjects hearkens back to his discussion of early modern Europe earlier in the chapter, where he characterized the inter-state conflicts of early modern Europe in the following way: “In early modern Europe, it can be said that various countries confronted each other as subjective things within what was actually one world.”137 Thus, it seems that Nishida’s vision for Japan’s mission of constructing East Asia is not to confront other states in the way that the European states opposed each other in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, but rather to “engulf” them in a comprehensive embrace. Japan should not “deny” other subjects (states), for to do so would be an exploitative imperialism, but if it “engulfs” them in a way that preserves their differences in a “self-contradictory unity,” that would presumably be permissible.

Again, there is no indication that this “engulfing” will be incompatible with Japan’s war in China.

Nishida continues in this vein in chapter eight, when he discusses “creation” in the world in a different and more nationalistic manner than he had done in the lectures.

As mentioned before, the first line of the third lecture reads, “Before this, I said that

Eastern culture, in becoming worldly, does not just stop at its distinctiveness, but sheds a new light towards Western culture, and by means of that, a new world culture must be

136 NKZ 12:349. 137 NKZ 12:337. 50 created.”138 The creation, in this case, occurs when Eastern culture sheds light on Western culture from a different standpoint, and this blend of cultures allows for the creation of a world culture. In chapter eight, however, Nishida says the following: “The state has reached a time when it must self-awaken to the mission of historical world creation as a truly ethical subject.”139 In the book’s case, thus, it is not the blending of cultures, but the actions of a state that lead to creation.

In light of this difference, it is telling to juxtapose the final sentences of the lectures and the book. The last line of the lectures is a paean to Japan’s ability to take in other cultures and thus build a synthetic culture: “So then I think that Japanese culture’s becoming world historical lies in building a vast new synthetic culture, putting together all cultures—because here it has unusual flexibility.”140 The last sentence of the book, in contrast, reads, “Surely today that which is truly subjective [Japan] comes out on the surface in the historical world.”141 In light of Nishida’s call for the state to create the historical world as a “truly ethical subject,” it seems that the book can be more easily read to be supportive of Japan’s war in China than the lectures can.

D. The Tsuda Incident

Nishida made this shift to a more nationalistic position under specific historical conditions. Ultimately, it appears that the main causal factor in this shift was the 1939-

138 NKZ 14:407. 139 NKZ 12:383. 140 NKZ 14:417. 141 NKZ 12:383.

51

1940 Tsuda incident, which led to the indictment of Iwanami Shigeo himself for crimes against the State. This event—the culmination of Iwanami culture’s run-ins with the

Japanese Right— led Nishida to adopt a more conciliatory tone towards Japanese nationalism in The Problem of Japanese Culture.

Even before the Tsuda incident, however, Nishida had endured criticism from ultranationalists. In July of 1938, a few months after the end of the “Problem of Japanese

Culture” lectures, Nishida received a copy of the July issue of the journal Genri Nippon, which had been sent personally by ultranationalist ideologue Minoda Muneki. This issue contained the essay “On the principles of Nishida philosophy” (Nishida tetsugaku no hōhō ni tsuite, 西田哲学の方法について) an attack on the ideas in Nishida’s lectures.142

Minoda had been a ringleader of the attacks on Minobe Tatsukichi in the emperor-as- organ theory incident, an incident that had forced Iwanami into exile out of fear for his safety, and he had previously criticized Nishida’s Iwanami colleagues Hajime Tanabe,

Amano Teiyū, and Watsuji Tetsurō as well.143 Nishida understood Minoda as “connected with the ultranationalist camp who tries to do in the academics—an infamous fascist,”144 and referred to him once as a “mad dog.”145 Nishida’s aforementioned warning to Kōsaka

Masaaki about the use of the word “world” was directly related to Minoda’s criticism:

I want you to be cautious with the group that tries to catch our words to do us in.

If we say “world,” they accuse us of espousing “cosmopolitanism,” and if we say

142 Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 292-294. 143 Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 292-293. 144 Cited in Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 293-294. 145 Cited in Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 294. “The man called Minoda is indeed a helpless case. I think it best not to take a mad dog seriously.” 52

“universal,” they dub it as “abstract universal” (taking it merely in the sense of

natural sciences). They merely pick on words out of context and use them as

ammunition for their attack. From what I understand, they are viciously against

the “atomistic” way of thinking, which places the individual above the state.

Please make sure that you won’t be caught by your own words.146

It is thus clear that Nishida regarded Minoda’s attacks as a serious threat.

Minoda’s attacks on Nishida and his allies in Iwanami culture reached a crescendo in the Tsuda incident of 1939-1940. The incident began when the Home

Ministry took offense at historian Tsuda Sōkichi’s application of scientific investigation to the Kojiki and the Nihon shoki. Due in part to Minoda’s attacks, Tsuda’s books were banned. Iwanami Shigeo, who published Tsuda’s books, was indicted for violating the publishing ordinance, according to which the publisher of materials that “may change the political system or confuse the interpretation of the Meiji constitution” are subject to the same charges as the author. In response to this, Nishida wrote in a letter to Yamamoto

Ryokichi, “If the power of justice is influenced to this extent by the plotting of Minoda and his clique, I think we have to give up all scholarly research. PS please burn this letter.”147

It is obvious that the Tsuda incident and Iwanami’s indictment weighed on

Nishida’s mind when he was finishing writing The Problem of Japanese Culture. Even though the book did not directly deal with Japanese history, as Tsuda’s did, Nishida was

146 Cited in Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 293. 147 Cited in Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 305-6. 53 worried about Minoda’s attacks. It was at this point that Nishida wrote the aforementioned letter to Yamamoto, admitting that The Problem of Japanese Culture was an “ad lib work,” that he feared Minoda’s attacks, that he took “precautions when choosing words,” and that he was worried about Iwanami’s ultimate fate.148 It is clear, thus, that Nishida recognized both the indictment of Iwanami as fallout from the Tsuda

Incident and the attacks from Minoda and his ultranationalist allies as factors that contributed to the final form of The Problem of Japanese Culture.

E. Secondary literature and The Problem of Japanese Culture

To my knowledge, there is no literature on The Problem of Japanese Culture in

English or Japanese that either offers a detailed study of the changes that Nishida makes between the lectures and the book or identifies the Tsuda incident as a key catalyst for these changes. However, several works that deal with the book version of The Problem of

Japanese Culture offer valuable contributions to our understanding of Nishida’s work.

Ueda Shizuteru, in Who is Nishida Kitarō? (Nishida Kitarō to wa dare ka 西田幾多郎と

はだれか) develops the idea that Nishida was using a “tug-of-war over meaning (imi no sōdatsusen 意味の争奪戦) against ultranationalists with regard to words like “imperial way” and “Japanese spirit.”149 Because it was impossible to openly criticize the government, and because he could not make any critiques by simply remaining silent,

Nishida employed the tug-of-war over meaning to redefine these terms in a non-

148 Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 306-307. 149 Ueda, Who is Nishida Kitarō?, 97. 54 ultranationalist way.150 Kosaka Kunitsugu’s The Thought of Nishida Kitarō (Nishida

Kitarō no shisō 西田幾多郎の思想) claims that when Nishida wrote about the state, he was doing so with regard to an “ideal state,” not Japan’s “actual state.”151 As a result, in

Kosaka’s view, when Nishida used nationalistic words like “imperial house,” “imperial way,” and hakkō ichiu, he was referring to ideal principles, not present realities. On the other hand, Pierre Lavelle, the French translator of The Problem of Japanese Culture, argues that there are important similarities between the “official teaching” of the ultranationalist document Kokutai no hongi and Nishida’s political ideas.152 He argues that Nishida “came closest to ultra-nationalism in his vision of world history, and more particularly Japan’s role in it.”153

In my view, Ueda, Kosaka, and Lavelle are all, in some way, correct. It is clear to me that Nishida’s usage of ultranationalist terms did involve an attempt at redefinition.

His redefinition of hakkō ichiu, despite its aforementioned ambiguity with respect to the idea of “contributing to the world,” is indeed an attempt to reclaim the term. The fact that this statement is not a clear rejection of ultranationalism in no way invalidates Nishida’s attempt. It is clear to me also that Kosaka is right to point out that there is an important distinction to be made between the ideal and the real state. Nowhere does Nishida claim that the Japanese government was perfectly following the ideal of the benevolent

150 Ueda, Who is Nishida Kitarō?, 98. 151 Kosaka, Thought of Nishida Kitarō, 86. 152 Lavelle, “The Political Thought of Nishida Kitarō,” 155. 153 Lavelle, 156. 55

“imperial way,” and in fact, his concern for Iwanami during the Tsuda incident suggests that he believed that Japan was in fact not following this ideal.

Yet, at the same time, Lavelle is correct to point out that Nishida’s view of

Japan’s role in world history as a creator, which as mentioned before, is a reversal of

Japan’s previous role as a receiver, leans heavily towards ultranationalism. While this analysis does not agree entirely with Lavelle because of a difference in definition

(Lavelle does not define ultranationalism, but it is clear that his understanding of its meaning is far broader than mine), Nishida’s statements in his eighth chapter are troubling with regard to how easily they can be enlisted to support Japanese militarism.

The ambiguity of Nishida’s work, thus, already present in “The Problem of Japanese

Culture” and intensified in The Problem of Japanese Culture, admits a variety of valid interpretations of Nishida’s original text.

It is informative to compare Nishida’s turning with the phenomenon of conversion (tenkō 転向) that so decimated the Communist party in Japan. Patricia

Steinhoff’s classic study Tenkō: Ideology and Societal Integration in Prewar Japan offers an explanation of the mental process behind tenkō that involves three steps: a motive, an excuse, and an acceptance. The “motive” stage involves a building up of doubts about party doctrine, with the emperor system being the point that precipitated the most doubts. The “excuse” stage constitutes a powerful, emotional event – like the conversion of Sano and Nabeyama – that allows for a legitimate excuse to undergo tenkō.

Finally, the “acceptance” stage involves accepting that one has committed tenkō, and this often requires tenkōsha to find a new worldview to replace their old one. Steinhoff

56 acknowledges that if this three-step process is acknowledged, “thousands of Japanese who were never imprisoned can be understood as tenkōsha.”154

Nishida, it seems, underwent experiences similar to Steinhoff’s first two steps during the transition period between the giving of the “Problem of Japanese Culture” lectures and the publication of the book. The “motive” step corresponds to the aftermath of Nishida’s lecture, when he found himself attacked by Minoda and Genri Nippon to such a degree that he was warning his friends to burn his letters, and the “excuse” step corresponds to the Tsuda incident because of its repercussions for Iwanami Shigeo.

Whether or not Nishida underwent an “acceptance” stage is beyond the scope of this study. However, it should be noted that in 1943, three years after the publication of The

Problem of Japanese Culture, Nishida wrote an article entitled “The Principles of the

New World Order,” a revised version of which was read by Prime Minister Hideki Tōjō at the Greater East Asia Conference.

F. Conclusion

In conclusion, the book advanced a more nationalistic sentiment than the lectures, one that was more congruent with Japan’s war aims in China. Granted, there are many key similarities between the lectures and the book. Both reinforce the anti-ultranationalist motif of “global orientation” by referring to moving beyond a focus on “Japanese distinctiveness,” to the idea of offering a contribution to the broader world as a world culture, and to the centrality of Japan’s synthetic nature in shaping such a culture.

154 Steinhoff, Tenkō, 117-123. 57

Furthermore, both offer a nationalistic distaste for the “fixed” or “settled” nature of China and a similarly nationalistic conception of Japanese history as being centered on the

“imperial house.”

However, The Problem of Japanese Culture also turns two anti-ultranationalist motifs in the lectures—the motif of academic liberty and the motif of global orientation—towards positions that are congruent with nationalism and even ultranationalism. The motif of academic liberty becomes linked to the “Japanese spirit” through the invocation of Motoori Norinaga, whose principles are used to denigrate

China, and the motif of global orientation not only is linked to ultranationalist terms like the “principle of world formation,” the “imperial way,” and hakkō ichiu – all of which are in turn linked to the nationalist motif of Japanese essentialism – but also is used to describe the “creation” of a world culture by the Japanese state.

These changes were undoubtedly influenced by historical factors, not philosophical ones. Nishida was unnerved by attacks from Minoda Muneki against “The

Issue of Japanese Culture” and found himself shocked when the Tsuda incident brought

Iwanami Shigeo himself to trial. With his friend’s life and his own livelihood likely under threat, Nishida would have been motivated to write in a tone that would cause the least harm to Iwanami. In the end, it seems that he refused to antagonize the ultranationalist camp any more than he needed to, choosing a path of reluctant complicity.

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Chapter 3. Iwanami Culture and Ultranationalism

Reactions to Nishida, 1940-1941

A. Introduction

On January 1, 1940, an anonymous article entitled “Dr. Nishida, Shouting for the

Daybreak” appeared in the Yomiuri Shinbun. The article, drawing directly on chapter eight of The Problem of Japanese Culture, presents Nishida as a commentator on the contemporary historical situation in East Asia. It describes Nishida as “now calling for creation with a loud voice,” and describes Japan as currently moving towards “the construction of a new East Asia.” In the context of the Second Sino-Japanese War, the parallel it constructs between Nishida’s writings and Japan’s actions suggests collaboration with Japanese ultranationalism in China, a topic that Nishida approaches but never broaches in The Problem of Japanese Culture. Such an interpretation—which arguably would not have been possible if the reader had attended Nishida’s lectures instead of reading his book—reveals that Nishida’s shift to a more nationalistic position in The Problem of Japanese Culture was a move that allowed his work to be associated with ultranationalist positions.

Because of Nishida’s rightward shift in The Problem of Japanese Culture, opinions of Nishida’s thought were split in the first two years of the decade of the 1940s.

Reactions to The Problem of Japanese Culture and to Nishida’s general political ideas in

Japanese monographs, newspapers, and magazines in 1940 and 1941 reveal the existence of three prominent strands of thought. The first strand consisted of the pro-Nishida anti- 59 ultranationalism of writers of Iwanami culture, which, it should be noted, was not necessarily opposed to nationalism. The second was the anti-Nishida ultranationalism typified by Minoda Muneki and the Genri Nipponsha. The third was made up of pro-

Nishida ultranationalism, which appeared in the Yomiuri Shinbun and circulated in the

Japanese academic establishment. The first and second of these three groups, being familiar with both the lectures and the book, understood that the thrust of Nishida’s thought was originally anti-ultranationalist in its support for academic freedom and its conception of Japan-in-the-world. Nevertheless, the existence of the third group reveals the effectiveness of The Problem of Japanese Culture in concealing Nishida’s original anti-ultranationalism.

B. The Pro-Nishida Anti-Ultranationalism of Iwanami Culture

A number of writers implicitly and explicitly associated with Iwanami Shigeo’s publishing company Iwanami Shoten praised Nishida’s stance in Problem of Japanese

Culture in Iwanami-sponsored reviews and in Iwanami-published books, seeing in it a rejection of the anti-intellectualism and demonization of the West inherent in ultranationalism. At the same time, however, such writers did not reject the obvious resonance of Nishida’s motifs with Japanese nationalism, and, although none of them explicitly identified Nishida’s work as nationalistic, some even seemed to invite such comparisons. For example, newspaper articles on Nishida in the Yomiuri Shinbun and

Asahi Shinbun written by Nishida’s former students played up Nishida’s nationalism and his role in creating a specifically “Japanese” philosophy.

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When Iwanami Shigeo authorized the 1940 publication of Problem of Japanese

Culture, he was understandably concerned about Japan’s world-historical situation. This concern can be seen in an advertisement for the book that came out in the Asahi Shinbun alongside ads for other Iwanami publications on May 8, 1940. The text of the advertisement reads as follows:

For us, who must now choose an important route in the middle of the chaos of

world history that is like an angry wave, what is most necessary is an unwavering

principle for choosing our direction. This book tries to give that principle

correctly. In this work, the deepest thinking and self-awakening to which we, the

Japanese people have attained, I look at how the future of history is opening a

splendid view.

This ad emphasizes two points. First, it stresses how pivotal Japan’s choices are at the current moment, and second, it expresses the belief that Nishida’s book might provide a principle for choosing the correct way forward. Given Iwanami’s strong stances against militarism and academic censorship, it must be assumed that he did not believe Nishida’s work to be supportive of ultranationalism when he chose to publish it.

Shortly after the publication of Problem of Japanese Culture, a number of

Iwanami-sponsored reviews appeared in journals, each of them taking a position against ultranationalism. One of these was a review in Nihon gakugei shinbun by a writer called

Sakai Itsuo.155 After discussing Nishida’s concept of absolute self-contradictory identity,

Sakai turns to Nishida’s conception of the difference between Europe and Japan. For

155 Sakai, “Nihon bunka no mondai,” 236. 61

Nishida, because Japan had been spared the “violent mutual denial” of the European wars between nation-states, the Japanese character involves “denying the self” and contains the

“logic of going to the truth of things,” a logic which unfortunately is comparatively

“lacking in reason.”156

At this point, Sakai moves to critique an overemphasis on Japanese uniqueness.

He writes, quoting Nishida, that simply making Japan’s “specialness” clear is not enough to allow it to “become a spirit that lives in world history today.” What is needed, according to Nishida, is a theory. Further emphasizing this point, Sakai notes that “these words are close to [Nishida’s] conclusion in his work,” before rhetorically asking in his last line, “Against the recent overflowing of Japan studies, is Professor Nishida’s severe reproach not enough?” This “severe reproach” is of course a reproach against ultranationalistic works on Japan that only seek to point out Japan’s uniqueness while demonizing western thought. Nishida is calling for more rigorous and nuanced intellectual work on Japanese cultural theory, and Sakai both recognizes and emphasizes this call.

The author of another Iwanami-sponsored review in Gendai shinbun hihan also points out Nishida’s opposition to ultranationalism.157 While this author wrote under the pen name Akagi Kazuhiko, his true identity was that of Sumiya Etsuji, an economics scholar at Dōshisha University and follower of the well-known democratic activist and

156 Sakai, 236. 157 Akagi, “Nihon bunka no mondai,” 406. 62 political theorist Yoshino Sakuzō. Given this background, it is not surprising that

Sumiya’s main emphasis is on what he sees as Nishida’s rejection of ultranationalism.

After pointing out that “reflection on Japanese things” has been a popular topic among Japanese intellectuals since the 1931 Manchurian incident and especially since the

1937 China incident, Sumiya asserts that Nishida’s book is “not simply taking advantage of fashion,” and is not a work aimed only at one class of people or at members of one ideology. Identifying a “global crisis” that is connected to the “global problem of nationalism of every citizen of the world,” Sumiya proclaims that “we are coming into a serious phase of the age.”158

At this point, Sumiya turns to Nishida’s works and identifies them as rejecting ultranationalism because they are willing to take in knowledge from the outside world.

Praising both Problem of Japanese Culture and Gakumonteki hōhō, Sumiya describes them as having “polished, beautiful words, [which are] the expression of a global philosopher’s deep thinking.” Then Sumiya states that Nishida “fairly [recognizes] knowledge from the world,” and “advocates an attitude of reflection in contrast to the attitudes of ultranationalist exclusivity, and nationalist partiality.” In other words, Sumiya is arguing that Nishida is a “global” philosopher who does not reject knowledge that comes from outside of Japan and that he is neither an ultranationalist nor even a nationalist.159 Sumiya reiterates his inclusiveness towards “the global” when he argues

158 Akagi, 406. 159 The characterization of Nishida as a “global philosopher” was a signal for his opposition to ultranationalism. See Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 293. 63 that the best way to deal with the “harmful effects” of foreign ideas is by creating a

“global principle from the bottom of our hearts.”160

However, at the same time, the quotes that Sumiya selects from Nishida carry a nationalist tinge. Sumiya quotes with approval Nishida’s admonition to “not just absorb western culture” but to instead “create a new world culture” through the help of “the

Eastern culture that nurtured [Japan] for thousands of years.” Sumiya emphasizes

Nishida’s grandiose nationalistic pronouncements that Japan is “standing on the stage of world history,” that the “Japanese spirit” must become “spatial,” and that the “imperial way must be global.” Thus, while Sumiya’s claims that Nishida is not an ultranationalist may well be true, his characterization of Nishida as not being a nationalist must be qualified by the evidence presented in his own essay.

Another analysis of Problem of Japanese Culture from the perspective of

Iwanami culture appears in the 1940 monograph The Will to Reason (Dōri e no ishi 道理

への意志), a book published by Iwanami and written by Nishida’s friend, the philosopher Amano Teiyū. Amano had had his own run-ins with ultranationalists in the past. In 1937, he published a book entitled The Sense of Reason (Dōri no kankaku 道理

の感覚) in which he defended liberalism against totalitarianism; his work was attacked by right wing groups and suppressed by the government.161 Amano’s main concern in

Dōri e no ishi is education, a topic that would serve him well in the future—he eventually became Minister of Education under Prime Minister Yoshida Shigeru, in which role he

160 Akagi, 406. 161 “Amano Teiyū,” Japan: An Illustrated Encyclopedia and Furuta, “Amano Teiyū,” Kokushi Daijiten. 64 promoted moral education and apparently “had a tendency towards conservative nationalism.”162

There are two passages in Dōri e no ishi that bring up Nishida’s Problem of

Japanese Culture, and both of them serve to link the “Japanese spirit” with the spirit of scholarship, in a veiled protest against the suppression of academic dissent. Paraphrasing the first chapter of “Nishida-sensei’s” Problem of Japanese Culture, Amano writes that the “scholarly spirit is the spirit that seeks truth everywhere and bows its head before truth.” Amano identifies this spirit with the “Japanese spirit” by the use of the term “just and upright” (kōmei seidai 公明正大), which characterizes the way in which one bows one’s head before truth, and which is said to be an element that exists in the “Japanese spirit.” In Amano’s eyes, this scholarly spirit is an honest attempt to seek after truth, and is opposed to the “exam culture” that stifles it.163

In the second passage, Amano returns to these themes, identifying the scholarly method with “objective knowledge” but also with morality. For Amano, the scholarly spirit, which seeks after truth, leads those who follow it to “cultivate their personality,”

“deny themselves,” and “transcend themselves.” Because of this, it is through the scholarly spirit that morality itself becomes established. At this point, Amano re- introduces Nishida’s contention from Problem of Japanese Culture that the scholarly spirit is found in the Japanese spirit. However, he now associates the Japanese spirit and the scholarly spirit with “the root of morality.”164

162 Furuta, “Amano Teiyū,” Kokushi Daijiten. 163 Amano, Dōri e no ishi, 108-110. 164 Amano, 152-153. 65

In this way, Amano tries to defend scholarship by using the nationalism of the image of the “Japanese spirit” to promote the value of true scholarship, a scholarship that bows its head before truth and that allows for self-transcendence. The fact that Amano published this at all in light of his recent run-in with ultranationalism in 1937 is itself a testament to the robustness of Iwanami culture.

In Sakai and Sumiya’s reviews and in Amano’s book, there is no sense that

Nishida’s Problem of Japanese Culture was an ultranationalist work. On the contrary, these authors interpreted Nishida’s writings as rejecting the anti-intellectualism and the demonization of the West that characterized ultranationalism. That being said, Nishida’s nationalism can be seen in references to the “Japanese spirit” and the creation of a “new world culture.”

A similar effort to express support for the nation without falling into ultranationalism appears in several articles on Nishida by his former students— themselves also affiliated with Iwanami culture—published in 1940 and 1941. These pieces aim to portray Nishida in a positive light, perhaps as a response to the continual attacks on Nishida by Minoda Muneki and his allies. Consequently, these newspaper articles tend to play up the congruence of Nishida’s thought with nationalism, while attempting to distance it from ultranationalist sentiments.

From 1940 through 1941, Nishida’s name was mentioned in ten articles in the

Yomiuri Shinbun, and eight in the Asahi Shinbun. During this time, the chief editors of both newspapers had ties to the state. The chief editor of Yomiuri from 1935-1945 was

Kobayashi Mitsumasa, a former police chief, a former governor of Aomori and Kōchi

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Prefectures, and a former member of the Ministry of Education. The chief editor at Asahi from 1936-1942 was Ogata Taketora, who was a member of the Imperial Rule Assistance

Association under Prince Konoe Fumimaro in 1940. Although Asahi was more liberal than Yomiuri, both newspapers were tied to the state, and had a vested interest in transmitting state ideology.165 The fact that these articles on Nishida tend to refrain from promoting ultranationalism is thus a testament to the strength of Iwanami culture.

In mid-November, 1940, a pair of articles on Nishida by two former students who have been described as nationalists appeared in Yomiuri and Asahi Shinbun. Both articles focused on Nishida’s academic thought. Neither directly addressed politics.

On November 12, 1940, Nishida’s former student Miki Kiyoshi wrote an article for the Yomiuri Shinbun entitled “Professor Nishida Kitarō as the Creator of Japanese

Philosophy.” Miki’s philosophical works, like Nishida’s, were published by Iwanami

Shoten, and were targeted by Minoda Muneki. Like other members of Iwanami culture,

Miki was an active member of Konoe Fumimaro’s Shōwa Research Association (Shōwa kenkyūkai 昭和研究会)166 and an architect of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity

Sphere.

In the article, Miki claims that “Nishida philosophy” gave “originality” to

Japanese philosophy, and discusses the Kyoto school that arose around him at Kyoto

Imperial University. Miki emphasizes that Nishida’s thought transcends the Western

165 That being said, the Asahi Shinbun was not as supportive of government policy as the Yomiuri was, as shown in 1943, when the government stopped the paper’s publication on account of a critical essay written by Seigō Nakano. 166 This group has been associated with fascism. See Fletcher, The Search for a New Order, 3-4. 67 logic of Kant and Hegel, and thus raises the possibility of the merging of Western and

Eastern modes of thought. The “Japanization of Western philosophy,” in Miki’s view, is a direct result of Nishida’s work. However, for Miki, Nishida’s achievements extend beyond the Japanization of Western thought; it is Nishida who “positioned Eastern thought in history.” It is possible to say that Miki’s focus on Japanization has a nationalistic tinge, but it must be admitted that Miki never explicitly linked Nishida’s writings to Japan’s ultranationalist occupation of the continent.

One day later, on November 13, 1940, Nishida’s former student Kōyama Iwao, who was at the time an assistant professor at Kyoto Imperial University, wrote an article on Nishida in Asahi Shinbun entitled “The Originality of Nishida Philosophy.” Like Miki,

Kōyama does not explicitly link Nishida’s writings to Japanese imperialism. Instead, again like Miki, Kōyama focuses on the originality of Nishida’s academic work. Kōyama writes that from 1911’s An Inquiry into the Good up to the then-recently published

Problem of Japanese Culture, Nishida had constructed an original philosophy on the basis of Western philosophy while also critiquing its limits. Kōyama places an emphasis on terms in Problem of Japanese Culture that Nishida had lifted from the eighteenth century kokugaku scholar Motoori Norinaga, writing that through Nishida’s “logic of the heart,” a logic that is also an “objective logic of facts,” Nishida’s philosophy had diverged from Western philosophy.167 Kōyama also sees Nishida’s philosophy as a

“starting point” for modern Japanese philosophy, and expresses his excitement regarding

167 It is important to note that Motoori Norinaga was being praised by nationalists and ultranationalists for his role in the kokugaku movement, which sought to promote the study of the Japanese classics. 68 the German translation of Nishida’s work. In the last lines of the article, Kōyama writes that he is happy to see that a “citizen’s philosophy” with a “new worldly character” could develop from Nishida’s thought. Although Kōyama’s reference to the “citizen’s philosophy” and his emphasis on Nishida’s use of Motoori Norinaga’s terms could be read as nationalism, his broader presentation of Nishida’s thought is decidedly academic, and is not linked to Japanese politics at all.

Unlike Miki and Kōyama’s articles, however, the Yomiuri Shinbun article “One

Side of Professor Nishida” by another of Nishida’s former students, the politician and businessman Kawai Yoshinari, forcefully emphasizes Nishida’s political ties. In this article, published on June 19, 1941 in the waning months of Konoe Fumimaro’s second cabinet, Kawai, who had worked in the Planning Committee of the General Affairs

Agency in Manchukuo and who had written a critique of the wartime control economy in

1938, stresses Nishida’s interest in politics and his support of the Konoe government.

The article essentially relates the story of a visit by Kawai to Nishida, whom he refers to as sensei, thereby implying reverence. Upon seeing Nishida, Kawai is taken aback by Nishida’s sickly appearance and laments that disease has “no pity” on Nishida, whom he describes as “a treasure in this world.” The two soon engage in a discussion about politics, which reveals Nishida’s “feeling of concern about the country.” Kawai characterizes Nishida as “a fervent patriot,” but in a pivotal moment declines to reveal what Nishida says in this political conversation, writing, “[I]f I reveal even a few of those words, I fear that I will hurt Sensei.” In a telling line, he writes that “the one with no power is the one who must retreat,” implying Nishida’s powerlessness with regard to

69 politics. These words imply that Nishida’s views on Japan’s situation are not in line with official policy.

Kawai also discusses Nishida’s relationship with Konoe. He emphasizes

Nishida’s loyalty to Konoe and his supporters, writing, “But when the topic sometimes reached Sensei’s beloved disciples Konoe Fumimaro and Kido Kōichi, Sensei sometimes let out a beautiful smile.” Yet, when reflecting on his school days under Nishida, Kawai also relates what is likely a critique of Konoe’s indecision, writing of Nishida, “Even now

I deeply remember how, in a penetrating way, he taught that ‘weak will is a crime.’” One of the most powerful lines of the article, especially in light of Konoe’s future fall from grace, is a quote from a letter that Kawai had received from Nishida years ago: “Not giving in when confronted with danger, this is truly what is called a great man.”

In short, Iwanami culture provides no sense of Nishida as promoting ultranationalism in the references to Problem of Japanese Culture in journal articles and books, or in the Yomiuri and Asahi articles on Nishida. This anti-ultranationalist interpretation is made possible by Nishida’s rejection of the anti-intellectualism and the anti-Western stance of ultranationalism. There are, however, elements that suggest a kind of philosophical nationalism, a nationalism congruent with the aims of Prime

Minister Konoe, who was sympathetic to the cause of academic liberty.

C. The Anti-Nishida Ultranationalism of Minoda Muneki

Although—in contrast to the positive evaluation of Nishida’s work that was held by Iwanami culture—the ultranationalist ideologue Minoda Muneki held Nishida and the

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Kyoto School to be problematic, Nishida’s nationalism and Minoda’s ultranationalism were similar in many respects. The outspoken Minoda had an outsized influence on prewar discourse, and has been described as “the leading spokesman for grassroots patriotic organizations that collaborated with conservative elements in the government to censor and persecute socialist and liberal academics in the 1930s and 1940s.”168 In

Minoda’s view, the Kyoto School was linked to Marxism and to Western-style scholarship that was disrespectful towards the emperor. That being said, Minoda’s critiques of Problem of Japanese Culture reveal that Nishida and Minoda shared a common nationalism.

Minoda Muneki was a controversial far-right figure in Taishō and Shōwa Japan who has been described as “anti-liberal” and as “fascist.”169 He was known for participating in the founding of the notorious ultranationalist group called the Genri

Nippon Society, and for writing in its journal Genri Nippon, which was a powerful force for ultranationalism during its run from 1925-1944. Although he himself was a product of

Tokyo Imperial University, Minoda tended to be a staunch critic of elements in the

Imperial Universities which he believed to be insufficiently loyal to the emperor. In the

1930s, Minoda rose to fame as he denounced scholars whom he thought unpatriotic, playing a major role in the Takigawa incident of 1932, the emperor as organ theory incident of 1935, and the Tsuda incident of 1940.170

168 Person, “Japanese Right-Wing Discourse,” 635. 169 Suzuki, “Minoda Muneki,” in Kokushi daijiten. 170 Person, “Philosophizing ‘Japan.’” It should be noted, however, that Minoda denounced a host of people with whom he disagreed. Sometimes these individuals were on what could be described as the “Right,” such as Kita Ikki, as Lavelle points out in “The Political Thought of Nishida Kitarō,” 145. 71

Minoda was also a staunch foe of Nishida Kitarō and the Kyoto School. His articles in Genri Nippon, which were edited and put into a 1941 book called The

Restoration of Scholarship (Gakujutsu ishin 学術維新) included broadsides against

Nishida himself and against Tanabe Hajime and Miki Kiyoshi, both prominent members of the Kyoto School. Nishida acknowledged and feared Minoda’s antagonism.171

Minoda’s main concerns with Nishida’s Problem of Japanese Culture were emblematic of his concerns about Japanese society in general. First, Minoda believed that the popularity of Marxism in the 1920s was a major problem, and thus he believed that

Nishida, who retained ties with committed Marxists like Tosaka Jun and sometime-

Marxists like Miki Kiyoshi, was sympathetic to Marxism. He criticized Nishida’s philosophy as an idealist philosophy that, while not Marxist itself, lacked the strength to attack Marxism.172

Second, Minoda’s antipathy towards Marxism extended towards non-Marxists in education who he believed to be watering down loyalty to the emperor. As John Person writes in his 2012 dissertation on Minoda, the Genri Nippon Society’s involvement in the

Takigawa incident and the emperor-as-organ theory incident was part of a campaign to

“punish the Imperial Universities” for failing to provide “moral guidance” as a counterbalance to the nation’s focus on science and industry.173 Minoda was thus deeply

171 See Yusa, Zen and Philosophy, 294. 172 For more information on Minoda and Marxism, see Kobayashi, Nishida Kitarō no yūutsu, 87-99. 173 Person, “Philosophizing ‘Japan,’” 23-24. 72 disturbed by interpretations of the constitution that “shifted power away from the throne and towards party leaders while mass-producing Marxist university graduates.”174

Minoda’s dislike for academic scholarship showed through in his criticism of

Nishida’s Gakumonteki hōhō, a short essay defending the independence of academic scholarship that Nishida attached to the end of Problem of Japanese Culture. In his critique, Minoda characterizes Nishida’s writings as having an “arrogant attitude,” and as being based on “old-fashioned, old-style, vague metaphysical thought.” Minoda sums up

Gakumonteki hōhō as exhibiting nothing other than “ignorance of Japanese spirit and

Japanese culture,” and suggests that this is particularly embarrassing because Nishida is said to be “Japan’s representative philosopher.” Thus, Minoda’s virulent opposition to

Marxism and to independent scholarship underscore major differences between Minoda’s brand of ultranationalism and Nishida’s worldview.175

That being said, both thinkers are nationalistic. There are several occasions when

Minoda, in the process of reviewing Nishida’s recent writings, recognizes that he and

Nishida are largely in agreement. Methodologically, when taking apart Nishida’s writings, Minoda tends first to point out areas of broad agreement, and then to nitpick, revealing a disagreement on a comparatively less important topic.

One example of this kind of broad agreement and subsequent quibbling comes from Minoda’s discussion of the opening lines to Nishida’s Problem of Japanese Culture.

Here, before delving into Nishida’s text, Minoda writes that he had already presented five

174 Person, “Philosophizing ‘Japan,’” 23-24. 175 Minoda, Gakujutsu ishin, 428-444. 73 or six essays critiquing “the so-called Nishida philosophy” and that within those essays he had not neglected pointing out what he had deemed to be Nishida’s “strong points.”176

Minoda then quotes Nishida’s first lines in Problem of Japanese Culture, in which

Nishida describes research as something that is “just and upright” (kōmei seidai 公明正

大), writes that the “Japanese spirit” had “just and upright” things within it, and asserts that the “scholarly spirit” should be based on a “just and upright” spirit.177 Minoda writes that he agrees completely with what Nishida has written so far.178 However, Minoda qualifies his agreement, saying, “Up to this point, I completely agree, but the Japanese spirit that knows mono no aware is more than ‘just and upright.’” He then asserts that the

“original expression of Nishida’s so-called ‘just and upright’ Japanese spirit” had not arisen from contemporary academic research, but instead had appeared in the account of

Emperor Jinmu’s travels to the East as recorded in the Kojiki.179 Although Minoda belabors this point of difference, what must be emphasized is that Nishida and Minoda agreed on the existence of a “Japanese spirit” and on the identification of this spirit with that which is “just and upright.” This common concern for the spiritualization of Japan suggests that both were implicated in Japanese nationalism, broadly conceived.

Minoda follows the same pattern of broad agreement and nitpicking when he discusses Nishida’s stance on the relationship between philosophy and politics. In “The

Scholarly Method,” Nishida writes, “Philosophy is not something separate from politics.

176 Minoda, “Nishida tetsugaku,” 25-33. 177 Minoda, “Nishida tetsugaku,” 25-33. 178 Minoda, “Nishida tetsugaku,” 25-33. 179 Minoda, “Nishida tetsugaku,” 25-33. 74

But also, politics is not something separate from philosophy.”180 Again, Minoda agrees with Nishida’s general principle, writing, “the point of that argument is correct,” since philosophy and politics have an “internal unity.”181 However, Minoda attacks what he sees as the “passive point of view” of this “representative philosopher of present-day

Japan,” saying that it is “thoughtless.”182 In contrast to Nishida’s passivity, Minoda raises the example of the German idealist philosopher Johann Gottlieb Fichte. Fichte, Minoda proposes, treats scholars who research “spiritual sciences or philosophy”—topics that are

“above mathematical natural science”—as people who are “thinking in the stead of those who govern.”183 Minoda then draws a connection with Japan’s governmental system, writing that the emperor’s ministers, whom he characterizes as “serving in the government of Amaterasu Ōmikami,” are serving as philosophers.184 Compared with his own conception of the philosophy-politics relationship, Minoda concludes that Nishida’s

“passive expression” is “vague and ignorant”—“equivalent to saying nothing.”185 Again, it should be noted here that although Minoda chooses to emphasize a trivial difference of expression, he agrees with Nishida on the general principle that philosophy and politics are deeply connected.

In conclusion, although Minoda saw Nishida—and various other members of the

Kyoto School—as fundamentally unpatriotic, they were in fact similar in their support for

180 Quoted in Minoda, Gakujutsu ishin, 428-444. 181 Minoda, Gakujutsu ishin, 428-444. 182 Minoda, Gakujutsu ishin, 428-444. 183 Minoda, Gakujutsu ishin, 428-444. 184 This conception of the inseparability of church and state was a typical example of the nationalist doctrine of saisei itchi (祭政一致). 185 Minoda, Gakujutsu ishin, 428-444. 75 some variety of “Japanese spirit” and their view of the inseparability of philosophy and politics, as Minoda himself noted. Since Japanese nationalism is understood in a broad sense to include ideas that glorify Japan’s culture and nation, then not only Minoda but also Nishida must be seen as implicated in Japanese nationalism.

D. Pro-Nishida Ultranationalism

In stark contrast to Minoda and the partisans of Iwanami culture, both of whom saw Nishida as standing against ultranationalism, some writers associated Nishida’s writing with ultranationalist positions such as the support of Japan’s military expansion into China, the rejection of the emperor-as-organ theory, and opposition to so-called

“fanatics of Western culture.” These interpretations were lent credence by Nishida’s attacks on Eurocentric theories, and his exhortations for Japan to participate in the creation of a new world. The existence of a pro-Nishida ultranationalist strand of thought suggests that it was not obvious at the time that Nishida’s political writings should be interpreted as anti-ultranationalist.

The previously mentioned article entitled “Dr. Nishida, Shouting for the

Daybreak” that appeared in the Yomiuri Shinbun on January 1, 1940 is a case in point; it draws a parallel between Japan’s military expansion into China and Nishida’s philosophy. In fact, the article asserts that Nishida is “philosophically constructing East

Asia.” The fact that the article’s main title is preceded by two lines that scream,

“Creation!” and “To a New World” attest to this point. The article makes the connection with imperialism explicit, describing how Nishida is “calling for creation with a loud

76 voice,” while Japan is “moving towards constructing a new East Asia.” In other words, in this article, Nishida’s philosophical construction of Japan, which he had furthered in

Problem of Japanese Culture through his discussions of Japanese culture, is made to parallel Japan’s ultranationalist struggle to politically construct a new East Asia spanning

Japan and the continent.

Outside of the pages of the Yomiuri shinbun, articles in several academic journals also promoted the viewing of Nishida’s thought as congruent with ultranationalist positions. These journals were affiliated with major universities, and represented the main streams of thought prevalent in academia at the time. Thus, they offer a penetrating look at Nishida from the perspective of the academic establishment.

In the 1940 article “Theory of the Japanese Kokutai” in the journal Shakai keizai shigaku, an economic history journal affiliated with Waseda University, Higo Kazuo, a historian of ancient Japan, offers his comments on Problem of Japanese Culture. Higo begins by discussing a passage in which Nishida describes the “imperial way” as involving an attempt to think “from the standpoint of our country itself.” Nishida points out that this attempt so far has been primarily historical, and has not been able to provide any “confirmed conceptual content.” Higo asserts that this is not only Nishida’s opinion, saying that there are “not a few” individuals who acknowledge the same problem. There are two possible reactions to this realization, one of which leads to contempt for Japan, and the other of which, because of dissatisfaction with the state of the “conceptual content,” leads to serious scholarship on philosophy and history. 186

186 Higo, Nihon kokutai no riron, 327-333. 77

Higo, as a historian, has a special interest in the reaction of dissatisfaction with the current state of discourse regarding an authentically Japanese manner of thinking, which leads him to denigrate European thought. He writes that theories that had previously been thought of as “universally true” have actually turned out to be “nothing more than things that were actually founded on European history.” In order to counter this, he writes that “a theory of existence born in the East, [based on] Eastern society and history, must be recognized.” His ultimate concern is revealed in his next sentence, which reads, “if that perspective is established, then Japanese and Eastern thinking can go on to satisfactorily oppose Western theory.”187

Thus far, while Higo has brought up nationalistic, anti-Western themes, he has fallen short of explicitly espousing ultranationalist positions. However, Higo then moves on from Nishida’s work to praise the legal historian Maki Kenji’s 1940 book The Theory of the Japanese kokutai, which he sees as emblematic of the recent trend of “Japanese and Eastern self-awakening” that also included Nishida’s book. In the course of this discussion, Higo brings up his stance on Minobe Tatsukichi’s emperor-as-organ theory.

According to Higo, it was because of the influence of Western legal theory that the emperor-as-organ theory had come into being. Since Minobe’s theory, he continues, is

“certainly not in accordance with the feelings of the citizens,” its “inappropriateness has been widely recognized.” He ends with a rhetorical question: “In that case [i.e., widespread recognition of a theory’s inappropriateness], shouldn’t any theory be

187 Higo, 327-333. 78 changed?” Higo’s clear opposition to Minobe’s theory, thus, associates Nishida’s thought with ultranationalist discourse.188

A 1939 article in Tetsugaku zasshi, an academic journal on philosophy affiliated with the University of Tokyo, offers similar ideas. This article, written by University of

Tokyo graduate and philosophy professor Yamazaki Seiichi, begins by denigrating the current trend of calling for a “blend of Eastern and Western culture” as an “opportunistic mishmash.” In Yamazaki’s eyes, a better approach would be to call for the elimination of

Western elements of thought. As he writes, “If we exclude and destroy most of the foreign things, then what remains becomes Japanese spirit.” It is not through blending of

East and West, but through a conflict between “ideas that are held in the East and the

West” that “everything can be solved.”189

Immediately before introducing Nishida, Yamazaki attacks both Western thought and its supporters. He writes that it is important to trace liberalism, individualism, and rationalism back to their roots, and to criticize those roots themselves. Otherwise, because of the “uncritical swallowing of foreign culture,” even the promotion of Japanese thought will not be enough to “wake up the so-called fanatics of Western culture.” Here,

Yamazaki introduces Nishida’s Problem of Japanese Culture—not yet published as a book but a lecture series at the time—characterizing it as “containing something that is deeply related to this point.” Yamazaki sees Nishida as in fact attacking the roots of

Western culture. For Yamazaki, Nishida’s attempt to examine “the merging of Western

188 Higo, 327-333. 189 Yamazaki, “Nihon bunka no mondai,” 70-71. 79 and Eastern culture in Japanese spirit” is “a great guide for the sake of our thinking today” precisely because Nishida looks into the “logical construction of various forms of culture.” It is philosophy that constructs the logic that underlies all cultures, and that can thus create “a new cultural consciousness.”

Given Yamazaki’s previous statements, it is clear that this “new cultural consciousness” he envisions will be something that excludes theories inspired by Western sources, such as Minobe’s emperor-as-organ theory. While Yamazaki does not explicitly call for violence against supporters of Western thought, his call for the destruction of

“most foreign things,” and his characterization of supporters of Western culture as

“fanatics” make it clear that he is supportive of the contemporary suppression of academic discourse. His writings thus associate his praise of Nishida with an implicit support for ultranationalist positions.

These selections from the Yomiuri Shinbun and the academic journals Shakai keizai shigaku and Tetsugaku zasshi reveal the existence of a strand of thought that ignored the anti-ultranationalist elements of Nishida’s thought that the Iwanami culture writers emphasized. Instead, this strand of thought praised Nishida for those elements in his philosophy that could be seen as supportive of the Japanese military’s incursion into

China and the suppression of free speech in the Japanese academy. Since there is to my knowledge no evidence that Nishida objected to these articles, it seems that he either did not mind being associated with ultranationalism, or regarded such associations as a necessary evil.

80

E. Lavelle, Ueda, and Nishida

In conclusion, there are three strands of interpretation concerning Nishida in

1940-1941: pro-Nishida anti-ultranationalism, anti-Nishida ultranationalism, and pro-

Nishida ultranationalism. Their existence as discrete entities reveals that the dominant narrative in Nishida historiography, which presents Nishida as having been attacked as a leftist before the war and as a rightist after the war, is incomplete at best. Nishida’s thought was ambiguous during the war, and was interpreted in wildly different ways, with some commenters seeing him as opposed to ultranationalism, and others seeing him as supportive of it.

These basic positions reappear in late twentieth-century scholarship on Nishida, as can be seen from the examples of Pierre Lavelle’s 1994 essay and Ueda Shizuteru’s

1995 essay on Nishida’s political thought. Since the publication of these essays, there has been no detailed analysis of Problem of Japanese Culture in English.

Pierre Lavelle, playing off Maruyama Masao’s famous dichotomy between

“fascism from below” and “fascism from above,” argues that Nishida’s political position was one of “ultranationalism from above,” and that his political network consisted of an ultranationalist faction of “‘enlightened’ civil elites.”190 Lavelle offers a strong interpretation of Nishida as an ultranationalist by drawing on Nishida’s political texts, including Problem of Japanese Culture, and comparing them with the ultranationalist document Kokutai no hongi, arguing that Nishida was “in basic agreement with the

190 Lavelle, “Political Thought,” 145. It is important to note that Lavelle’s conception of ultranationalism is broader than the more restricted definition of ultranationalism that I use in this essay. As mentioned before, I conceive of ultranationalism as an ideology that is supportive of militarism and opposed to freedom of speech in academia and the press as well as to Western ideas. 81 official teaching.”191 He points out that Nishida saw war as a means of historical progress,192 and argues that Nishida “came closest to ultra-nationalism in his vision of world history, and more particularly Japan’s role in it.”193 Lavelle claims that Nishida’s sense of world crisis was ultranationalist, and Nishida’s conclusion—that is, that the solution to the problems of the present world must come from the kokutai—was also ultranationalist.194

In Lavelle’s view, Nishida was a religious traditionalist with ultranationalist political ideas.195 As Lavelle writes:

Nishida’s political ideas belong to the common base of ultra-nationalism—his

support for the theory of blocs and for the project of Japan’s world politico-

cultural preeminence, and his acceptance of a reorientation of cultural and

educational policy in the direction of a greater orthodoxy. He belonged to the

“idealist right,” conservative in economic and social matters, and to “enlightened”

civil ultra-nationalism, hostile to the military’s participation in national affairs.196

Thus, Lavelle sees Nishida’s Problem of Japanese Culture as part of an essentially ultranationalist system of political beliefs.

In contrast to Lavelle, Ueda Shizuteru—a student of Nishitani Keiji, who was himself a student of Nishida—carefully studies Problem of Japanese Culture, and concludes that Nishida was an anti-ultranationalist. He argues that the book shows a “tug-

191 Lavelle, 155. 192 Lavelle, 155-156. 193 Lavelle, 156. 194 Lavelle, 158-159. 195 Lavelle, 163. 196 Lavelle, 164. 82 of-war over meaning” with respect to words like “imperial way” (kōdō 皇道) and

“Japanese spirit” (Nippon seishin 日本精神).197 As Ueda writes,

The Problem of Japanese Culture and “Principles for a New World Order,”

together with the other material appended to volume 12 of the Collected Works,

must not be read as Nishida’s own program but as critical writings in a deliberate

“tug-of-war” over meaning.198

In this tug-of-war, Nishida intentionally attempted to reinterpret the imperial way as a

“contribution to the world”199 that is “not a way of domination,”200 and the Japanese spirit as having a theoretical component.201

Ueda further argues that Nishida’s sympathy towards the emperor and the imperial house are the result of his having grown up in the Meiji period,202 and that

Nishida’s negative spin on the word “war” in Problem of Japanese Culture and his use of the term “world struggle” as opposed to “world war” indicates a lack of support for the war in China.203 Thus, Ueda concludes that Nishida is not an ultranationalist, nor even a nationalist:

I conclude from the foregoing that criticisms depicting Nishida as a nationalist, a

promoter of the “Japanese spirit,” a supporter of the war, an ideologue of the

Greater East Asia War, an absolutizer of the emperor, and so forth cannot be

197 Ueda, “Nishida, Nationalism, and War,” 77-106. 198 Ueda, “Nishida, Nationalism, and War,” 91. 199 Ueda, “Nishida, Nationalism, and War,” 93. 200 Ueda, “Nishida, Nationalism, and War,” 91. 201 Ueda, “Nishida, Nationalism, and War,” 101-102. 202 Ueda, “Nishida, Nationalism, and War,” 94. 203 Ueda, “Nishida, Nationalism, and War,” 95-96. 83

substantiated either in Nishida’s own writings or in their actual historical context.

Rather, precisely because these labels could not be applied to him, Nishida was

misunderstood by the military and attacked by the ideologues of the “Japanese

spirit.”204

In this way, Lavelle and Ueda carry on traditions from the early 1940s in their contrasting interpretations of Nishida. This is indicative of a deadlock over Nishida’s work, a deadlock that muddles understandings of history on both sides. Both Nishida’s critics and Nishida’s supporters tend to overlook important parts of the history of the conflict over the meaning of Nishida’s words in the 1940s. On the one hand, Nishida’s critics neglect the robustness of Iwanami culture, which understood Nishida’s writings to offer a challenge to ultranationalism. Critics should recognize that anti-ultranationalist readings of Nishida’s political writings were in circulation up to at least 1941. Such anti- ultranationalist readings are supported not only by the fact that Nishida’s political writings were attacked by Minoda Muneki, who saw them as supportive of Marxism and freedom of speech in academia, but also by the fact that the writers of a thriving Iwanami culture disseminated through articles and newspapers understood Nishida’s writings as standing up against the demonization of the West and against imperialism. Because of this, Nishida’s strategy for influencing political discourse, which Ueda Shizuteru characterizes as his “tug-of-war over the meaning of words,” enjoyed some limited success.

204 Ueda, “Nishida, Nationalism, and War,” 96. 84

On the other hand, Nishida’s supporters overlook the ways in which Nishida’s thought was easily coopted to serve ultranationalist goals in the period from 1940-1941, as well as the ways in which Nishida’s writings themselves were nationalistic in their own right. Nishida’s supporters must admit that Nishida did not publicly object to ultranationalist readings of his work, which also were in circulation in the Yomiuri shinbun and in several academic journals. The existence of such readings, which suggested that Nishida’s writing was supportive of Japan’s war in East Asia, the suppression of Minobe’s emperor-as-organ theory, and the demonization of the theories of other “Western fanatics,” reveal that the meaning of Nishida’s political writings was indeed unclear at the time. This is perhaps the reason why Nishida lost his “tug-of-war over the meaning of words.” Thus, contrary to what some of Nishida’s supporters claim, the content of Nishida’s political stance was unclear, and the wildly different interpretations of Nishida’s Problem of Japanese Culture offer evidence of this lack of clarity.

Additionally, Nishida’s writing was full of nationalistic elements, from his praise of the imperial house and the kokutai of Japan, to his promotion of a quintessentially

“Japanese spirit,” to his valorization of the imperial way and his call for it to become something “global.” These nationalistic elements are registered in all reactions to

Nishida’s thought, including those coming from writers associated with Iwanami culture.

While it may be true, as Ueda points out, that Nishida’s sympathy towards the imperial house was a result of his growing up in the Meiji period, in my view, the nationalist elements of Nishida’s thought ultimately undercut attempts to view Nishida as a liberal.

85

Conclusion: Towards the Iwanami School?

New Directions in the Study of 1930s-1940s Japan

After the 1940 publication of The Problem of Japanese Culture, Nishida continued his shift towards ultranationalism in works like “The Problem of Raison

D’État” (Kokka riyū no mondai 国家理由の問題, 1941), “Principles of the New World

Order” (Sekai shinchitsujo no genri 世界新秩序の原理, 1943), and Kokutai (国体,

1944). “Principles of the New World Order,” in fact, was written at the behest of the Tōjō government, and an altered version of it was read at the Greater East Asia Conference of

1943.205 Nishida’s actions in 1940 to protect Iwanami Shigeo, thus, had far-reaching consequences.

After his death in 1945 in the waning years of the Pacific War, Nishida became an intellectual celebrity. In his obituaries, he was lionized by his students and admirers as the quintessential Japanese philosopher. John Dower reports that Nishida was so well regarded that his Collected Works (zenshū, 全集), published by Iwanami Shoten in the ruins of postwar Tokyo in 1947, sold out almost immediately.206 Despite the criticism that Nishida has received since then due to his nationalistic views, his legacy as an important Japanese philosopher—he is said to be the most important Japanese philosopher of modern Japan207—remains intact.

205 Arisaka, “The Nishida Enigma,” 5. 206 Dower, Embracing Defeat, 186, 192. 207 “Nishida Kitarō,” Japan: An Illustrated Encyclopedia. 86

Nishida held a generally anti-ultranationalist position in the lectures, which he diluted two years later in The Problem of Japanese Culture. The initial Monday lecture series, bound up with Iwanami culture, was opposed to ultranationalist attacks on free speech in academia and promoted Japan’s global orientation. At the same time, it contains the nationalistic motifs of imperial centrality, Japanese essentialism, and anti-

Sinic differentiation. The book reveals a Nishida who, caught off-guard by the indictment of Iwanami in the Tsuda incident, deliberately modified his language to make his ideas more attuned to nationalism. “Academic liberty” was linked to the truth-seeking spirit of

Motoori Norinaga, which allowed for Japan to be contrasted with a backwards China.

Japan’s “global orientation” was interpreted to mean not the absorption and digestion of other cultures in Japan, but rather the outward expansion of the Japanese state to “create” a world culture. These changes in turn invited misunderstanding. Although the writers of

“Iwanami culture” and Minoda Muneki, who were familiar with Nishida’s lectures, understood Nishida’s main points to be anti-ultranationalist, some of Nishida’s readers evidently did not. These findings provide a vital corrective to the dominant narrative of a

Nishida who was attacked as pro-Western before the war and was seen as ultranationalist only after its close.

Stepping away from Nishida scholarship and onto a broader stage, this analysis reveals the complexity of Japan’s public sphere of ideas in the era immediately preceding the Pacific War. It reveals how bound up Nishida was in the larger community of

“Iwanami culture.” During the “dark valley” of the Shōwa years, members of Iwanami culture tried to defend each other against ultranationalism, even if that meant giving in to

87 pressure to produce increasingly nationalist writings. Much of the scholarship around

Nishida and his contemporaries in the field of Japanese philosophy has for a long time revolved around the so-called Kyoto School. However, recently there have been calls by

Thomas Kasulis and others to use the term “Tokyo School,” represented by Watsuji

Tetsurō, as an analytical category. As a means of supplementing this exciting trend, perhaps it may also be useful to see both Nishida and Watsuji as part of a larger

“Iwanami School.”

There was a surprising diversity of viewpoints allowed during the late 1930s and early 1940s. The writers of a robust Iwanami culture publicly praised Nishida’s political writings as opposed to ultranationalism at the same time that Minoda was attacking them as unpatriotic. In my view, the complexity of Japan’s print culture before the Pacific War brings into question the usefulness of what seems to be the presumption of a binary choice between criticizing intellectuals as collaborators or supporting them as resisters. In

Nishida’s case, it seems that he saw himself as trying to fight what he saw as a “fascist age” by means of his promotion of anti-ultranationalist motifs like those of academic freedom and of Japan-in-the-world. It also seems that Nishida feared the consequences— to himself and to Iwanami—of open resistance, and was willing to accept that there would be ultranationalist interpretations of his thinking. In this sense, it is true both that

Nishida was both a resister and a collaborator, and this fact is indicative of the insufficiency of the resistance-collaboration model. Perhaps the best way to describe

Nishida, then, is to say that he existed in a state of reluctant complicity.

88

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Abbreviations

NKZ. Nishida Kitarō zenshū 西田幾多郎全集. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1965.

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