The foundations of Japan

by J. W. Robertson Scott

To return to our host, he told us that tenants were "getting clever." They were paying their rent in "worse and worse qualities of rice." The landlords "encouraged" their tenants with gifts of tools, clothes or saké in order that they might bring them the best rice, but the tenants evidently thought it paid better to forgo these benefits and market their best rice. This raises the question whether rent ought nowadays to be paid in kind. Rural opinion as a whole is in favour of continuing in the old way, but there is a clear-headed if small section of rural reformers which is for rent being paid in cash.

One thing I found in my notes of my talk with the landowner-oculist I hesitated to transcribe without confirmation. Speaking of the physique of the people, he had said that few farmers could carry the weights their fathers and grandfathers could move about. But later on a high agricultural authority mentioned to me that it had been found necessary to reduce the weight of a bale of rice from 19 to 18 kwamme and then to 15—1 kwamme is 8.26 lbs.

In the oaza in which I was staying there were eighty families. Seventy were tenants. Under a savings arrangement initiated by my host, the hamlet, including its five peasant proprietors, was saving 120 yen a month. On the other hand, more than half the tenants were in debt "in connection with family excesses," such as weddings, births and burials. But there might be unknown savings. I should state that the villagers seemed contented enough.

For some reason or other I was particularly struck by the sturdiness of the small girls. This was interesting because Chiba had for long an evil reputation for infanticide, and under a system of infanticide in the Far East it would be supposed—I have heard this view stoutly questioned—that more girls die than boys. The landowner-oculist was of opinion that in stating the causes of the low economic condition of his tenants the abating of infanticide must be put first. People no longer restricted themselves to three of a family. The average area available locally was only 6 tan of paddy and 1.2 tan of dry land. In a one-crop district in which there was work for only a part of the year this area was obviously insufficient and there was not enough dry land for mulberries. Then taxation was now 2½ yen per bale of rice (hyō). A third of the rice went in rent.

I tried to find out what the oaza might be spending on religion. The Shinto priest seemed to get 5 sen a month per family, which as there are eighty families would be 48 yen yearly. The Buddhist priest had land attached to his temple and money was given him at burials and at the Bon season. The oaza might spend 100 yen a year to send five pilgrims as far away as Yamagata, on the other side of Japan. The priests did not seem to count for much. "Their only concern with the public," I was informed, "is to be succoured by it. They are living very painfully. The Buddhist priests have to send money to their sect at Kyoto." In one of my strolls I passed the Shinto priest carrying a rice basket and looking, as my companion said, "just like any other man." At a shrine I saw a number of bowls hung up. A hole cut in the bottom of each seemed a pathetic symbol of need, material or spiritual.

The keeper of the teahouse in the oaza had been given a small sum by our host to take himself off, but in the village of which the oaza formed a part there were two teahouses, where ten times as much was spent as was laid out on religion. No one had ever heard of a case of illegitimacy in the oaza but there had been in the twelve months three cases which pointed to abortion. It was five years since there had been an arrest. The young men's association helped twice a year families whose boys had been conscripted.

According to what I was told in various quarters, some landowners in Chiba did a certain amount of public work but most devoted themselves to indoor trivialities. The fact that two banks had recently broken at the next town, one for a quarter of a million yen, and that a landowner had lost a total of 30,000 yen in these smashes, seemed to show that there was a certain amount of money somewhere in the district. No one appeared to "waste time on politics." In ten years "there had been one or two politicians," but "one member of Parliament set a wholesome example by losing a great deal of money in politics." As to local politics, election to the prefectural assembly seemed to cost about 500 yen. Membership of the village assembly might mean "a cup of saké apiece to the electors."

I was assured that this hamlet was above the economic level of the county. The belief was expressed that it could maintain that position for three or four years. "I do not feel so much anxiety about the present condition of the people," my host said; "they are passive enough: but as to the future it is a difficult and almost insoluble question."

"The condition of our rural life is the most difficult question in Japan," said a fellow guest.

In one of the farmers' houses a girl, with the assistance of a younger brother, was weaving rough matting for baling up artificial manure. Near them two Minorcas were laying in open boxes. In this family there were seven children, "three or four of whom can work." The hired land was 8 tan of paddy and 2½ of dry. There was nothing to the good at the end of the year. Indeed rice had had to be borrowed from the landlord. The family was therefore working merely to keep itself alive. But it looked cheerful enough. Looking cheerful is, however, a Japanese habit. The conditions of life here were what many Westerners would consider intolerable. But it was not Westerners but Orientals who were concerned, and what one had to try to guess was how far the conditions were satisfactory to Eastern imaginations and requirements. The people at every house I visited—as it happened to be a holiday the mending of clothing and implements seemed to be in order—were plainly getting enjoyment from the warm sunshine. Undoubtedly the long spells of sunshine in the comparatively idle period of the year make hard conditions of life more endurable.