Political associations had, as we have seen, been formed before, in connection with the agitation for popular reforms, both in the Capital and in the provinces. Owing their creation chiefly to the leader of the Tosa party and his lieutenants, most of them had led a rather precarious existence, flourishing or dying down in response to the degree of severity characterizing the measures of control taken by the authorities. Neither in point of organization, nor in definiteness of aim, could they be regarded quite as political parties. The latest and most important of these associations had been the Union for the establishment of a Parliament, formed in 1880, which, as already mentioned, represented between twenty and thirty societies in various parts of the country. Out of this unwieldy body the first political party grew, taking the place of the parent society which was dissolved. This was the Jiyūtō, or Liberal Party, established by Itagaki in October, 1881, a few days only after the issue of the Imperial decree. Its birth was signalized by collision with the authorities, a misfortune which might not incorrectly have been interpreted as an omen of a stormy career. The party managers had, it seems, omitted to give notice to the police of gatherings of the party, thereby infringing the Law of Public Meetings. For their omission to do so the managers were fined, and a further result of the infringement was that, though actually founded on the date above mentioned, the party did not receive official recognition until July of the following year. Itagaki was elected President of the party, and one of the four Vice-Presidents was Gotō Shōjirō, whose connection with the resignation of the last of the Shōguns will be remembered.
The programme of the Liberal Party was comprehensive, if rather vague. Its intentions, as announced in the manifesto issued, were “to endeavour to extend the liberties of the people, maintain their rights, promote their happiness and improve their social condition.” The manifesto also expressed the party’s desire “to establish a constitutional government of the best type,” and its readiness to co-operate with all who were inspired by similar aims. Its President, Itagaki Taisuké, had from the first been the prime mover in the agitation for popular reforms, which without his inspiration and guidance would never have attained the dimensions it did; both in and out of season he had pressed upon the attention of the Government and the country the desirability of broadening whenever and wherever possible the basis of administration; and he shared with Ōkuma the distinction of being a pioneer in the organization of political parties in preparation for the Parliament to be established and a successful party leader after representative institutions had come into operation. Lacking the versatility of his Hizen contemporary and colleague, he was nevertheless a leading figure in political circles, where his sincerity and tenacity of purpose commanded much respect. The public indignation excited by the unsuccessful attempt on his life made in the spring of 1882 was a tribute to his popularity, and the words he is said to have uttered when stabbed, “Itagaki may die, but not liberty,” are still quoted. Had he, like other politicians of his time, lived more in Tōkiō and less in his native province, he might have been better known outside of Japan.
In the spring of 1882 two other political parties came into existence. One of these was the “Rikken-Kaishintō,” or Constitutional Reform Party, which was established by Ōkuma with the co-operation of a number of well-known men who had followed him into retirement when he left the Ministry in the previous year. Prominent among these ex-officials were Shimada Saburō, a distinguished writer, who afterwards became President of the House of Representatives; Yano Fumiō, another distinguished writer, who later on filled the post of Japanese Minister to China; and Ozaki Yukiō, who was afterwards Minister of Education, as well as Mayor of Tōkiō, and now occupies a foremost position as speaker, writer and parliamentarian. The programme of the Kaishintō was more definite than that of the Liberal Party. Besides the usual stock phrases as to upholding the dignity of the Throne and promoting the happiness of the people, it dwelt on the necessity of internal progress as a preliminary step to “the extension of national rights and prestige,” and advocated the development of local self-government, the gradual extension of the franchise pari passu with the progress of the nation, the encouragement of foreign trade, and financial reform.
The points of difference between the Liberal Party and the Kaishintō, or Moderate Liberals, as we may call them, were of the kind that distinguished the two party leaders from each other. The greater culture and refinement, as well as the moderation, of the Hizen statesman were reflected in the more sober views of his party, which appealed to a more educated section of the people than the cruder and more radical doctrines and methods of the Jiyūtō.
The third party established at this time was the Rikken Teisei-to, or Constitutional Imperialist Party. Fukuchi, editor of the Nichi Nichi Shimbun, which was then a semi-official organ, took an active part in its formation. Its raison d’être was support of the Government, which the other two parties opposed. It was, therefore, usually known as the Government party. Some of the items of its elaborate programme were in themselves a sufficient indication of its official sympathies. Approval was expressed of the date (1890) fixed for the establishment of a parliament; of whatever form of Constitution might be decided upon by the Government with the Imperial sanction; of there being two Chambers; of the necessity of qualifications for members; and of the final decision in all matters resting with the Emperor. But other points in the programme suggested some independence of opinion. The party favoured the separation of the army and navy from politics; the independence of judges; freedom of public meetings in so far as was consonant with national tranquillity; as well as freedom of public speech, of publication and of the Press within legal limits, and financial reform.
The same spirit which led to the formation of these three political parties in the Capital inspired the birth of many more in the provinces. More than forty of these sprang up like mushrooms, and the confusion naturally attending the sudden appearance of so many was increased by the rule which made it necessary for each to be registered as a separate organization, even when name and associations clearly indicated its connection with the parent party in the Capital. Almost every prefecture could boast of its own political party, usually affiliated to one of the three chief parties in Tōkiō, whose example was generally followed in the inclusion of the word “Constitutional” in the title, a fact which shows what importance was attached to constitutional principles as a basis of government. Occasionally, too, the dearth of fixed political ideas was shown by the comprehensive vagueness of the name chosen. An instance of this occurred in the case of the political party formed in the province of Noto, which assumed the non-committal designation of the Jiyū-Kaishintō, which was intended to mean the Party of Liberty and Reform, but lent itself to the interpretation of being the Liberal and Moderate Liberal Party. In this, as in many other instances, the name was a mere label without much meaning.
In spite of the flourish of trumpets which accompanied the formation of these three political parties, and their numerous branches—for such they mostly were—in the provinces, the movement collapsed as suddenly as it arose. Before eighteen months had passed one of the three, the Imperialist Party, had decided to dissolve. A year later its example was followed by the Liberal Party; while the third, the party of Moderate Liberals, led by Ōkuma, though it escaped dissolution, was by the end of 1884 in a moribund condition, without either president or vice-president.
For this sudden blighting of the hopes of the newly formed class of politicians there were several reasons. In the first place, in pursuance of what had been termed its settled policy of alternate conciliation and repression, the Government, after the issue of the Imperial decree promising a parliament, had embarked upon a course of further repressive legislation. The law restricting the right of public meeting and speech, which had been issued in 1880, was in 1882 revised and made much more stringent. Under this revised law the powers of the police for inquisitorial purposes were increased; political parties were bound to furnish full particulars concerning the rules of association and lists of members; no meeting could be held unless permission from the police had been obtained three days before; it was forbidden to advertise the subjects of political lectures and debates, or to invite attendance at a meeting; political associations were not only debarred from having branches in other places, but from holding communications, or carrying on any kind of relations with other political parties—a provision which was said to be inspired by fear of the amalgamation of parties opposed to the Government; and, on the simple ground of its being necessary for the preservation of the public peace, the police had power at any time to close a public meeting. And yet, strange to say, the Government which did these things, which left no stone unturned in its efforts to thwart the designs of suspected politicians, was itself a Government of reformers, and betrayed at moments no little sympathy with the popular cause it was fighting.
The severity of the policy adopted by the Government extended to the Press. In the spring of 1883 the Press law of 1875, the operation of which had given rise to a special class of “prison editors,” was revised in a spirit of increasing harshness. In cases falling under what was known as the “Law of Libel,” not the editor of a paper only, as before, but the proprietor and manager also, were held jointly responsible; the law itself was construed so as to leave no loophole of escape for the suspected offender; and the conditions imposed on journalistic enterprise made it almost impossible to start a newspaper or to carry it on when started.
The newly formed political parties were also at a disadvantage as regards the place which was of necessity their centre of operations. We have seen how before the reopening of Japan to foreign intercourse Tōkiō, then called Yedo, had for nearly three centuries been the seat of administration; how with the gradual decay of Tokugawa authority the centre of political activity had shifted for a time to the former capital, Kiōto; and how after the Restoration of 1868–9 Tōkiō, now called by its changed name, had more than regained its position, becoming as the new Capital the place where the new life of the nation and its interests were focussed. Its position was now stronger than ever, for the abolition of feudalism had put an end to all separatist tendencies, and provincial towns had lost much of their former importance. The change was not without its effect on the organization of political parties. However great the local influence of the leaders might be, it was in Tōkiō that the constitution of parties took place. The provinces counted for little. They might supply the leaders, but the Capital was the centre of operations. There, as being the seat of administration, the Government was at its strongest, while the party politicians on the other hand were at a disadvantage. Beyond the reach of the local ties in clan or province, on which they depended for support, they worked in strange and uncongenial surroundings. Moreover, the enforcement of the rule forbidding the formation of provincial branches and combination with other political bodies, condemned them to a position of comparative isolation.