Feudalism was no sudden apparition. It was no mushroom growth of a night. The importance of the military class had been growing steadily during the prolonged civil strife from which the Minamoto family had emerged victorious. This and the increasing weakness of the Government had brought about a change in provincial administration. Civil governors, dependent on the Capital, had gradually given place to military officials, with hereditary rights, who looked elsewhere for orders; manorial estates were expanding into territories with castles to protect them; and local revenues no longer flowed with regularity into State coffers. Thus in more than one manner the way had been prepared for feudalism.
The same may be said of the dual system of administration, though here the question is less simple. From all that history tells us, and from its even more eloquent silence, there is good reason to question the existence at any time of direct Imperial rule. We hear of no Mikado ever leading an army in the field, making laws or dispensing justice, or fulfilling, in fact, any of the various functions associated with sovereignty, save those connected with public worship. This absence of personal rule, this tendency to act by proxy, is in keeping with the atmosphere of impersonality which pervades everything Japanese, and is reflected in the language of the people. Everything tends to confirm the impression that the prestige of sovereignty in Japan thus lay rather in the institution itself than in the personality of the rulers. The casual manner in which succession was regulated; the appearance on the Throne of Empresses in a country where little deference was paid to women; the preference repeatedly shown for the reign of minors; the laisser-aller methods of adoption and abdication; the easy philosophy which saw nothing unusual in the association of three abdicated, or cloistered, monarchs with a reigning sovereign; and the general indifference of the public to the misfortunes which from time to time befel the occupant of the Throne, all point in the same direction—the withdrawal of the Sovereign at an early date from all active participation in the work of government. In so far, therefore, as the personal rule of the Sovereign was concerned it seems not unreasonable to regard the dual system of government established at this time as the formal recognition of what already existed. Its association with feudalism, however, brought about an entirely new departure. Kiōto, indeed, continued to be the national capital. There the former Ministers of State remained with all the empty paraphernalia of an officialdom which had ceased to govern. But a new seat of administration was set up at Kamakura, to which all men of ability were gradually attracted. Thenceforth the country was administered by a military government directed by the Shōgun at Kamakura, while the Sovereign lived in seclusion in the Capital, surrounded by a phantom Court, and an idle official hierarchy.
In this question of government there is still something further to be explained. It should be understood that the Shōgun did not personally rule any more than the Mikado. What for want of a better name may be termed the figure-head system of government is noticeable throughout the whole course of Japanese history. Real and nominal power are rarely seen combined either socially or politically. The family, which is the unit of society, is nominally controlled by the individual who is its head. But practically the latter is in most cases a figure-head, the real power being vested in the group of relatives who form the family council. The same principle applied to the administration of feudal territories. These were not administered by the feudal proprietors themselves. The control was entrusted to a special class of hereditary retainers. Here again, however, the authority was more nominal than real, the direction of affairs being left, as a rule, to the more active intelligence of retainers of inferior rank. Similarly the Shōgun was usually a mere puppet in the hands of his Council, the members of which were in turn controlled by subordinate office-holders. This predilection for rule by proxy was encouraged by the customs of adoption and abdication, the effects of which, as regards Mikado and Shōgun alike, were seen in shortness of reign, or administration, and the frequency of the rule of minors.
The highly artificial and, indeed, contradictory character which distinguished all Japanese administration had certain advantages. Abdication was found to be not incompatible in practice with an active, though unacknowledged, supervision of affairs. It also provided a convenient method of getting rid of persons whose presence in office was for any reason inconvenient. In a society, too, where adoption was the rule rather than the exception the failure of a direct heir to the Throne, or Shōgunate, presented little difficulty. It was a thing to be arranged by the Council of State, just as in less exalted spheres such matters were referred to the family council. Questions of succession were thus greatly simplified. In this contradiction, moreover, between appearance and reality, in the retention of the shadow without the substance of power, lay the strength of both monarchy and Shōgunate. It was, in fact, the secret of their stability, and explains the unbroken continuity of the dynasty on which the nation prides itself. Under such a system the weakness or incompetence of nominal rulers produced no violent convulsions in the body politic. The machinery of government worked smoothly on, unaffected by the personality of those theoretically responsible for its control; and as time went by the tendency of office to divorce itself from the discharge of the duties nominally associated with it increased everywhere, with the result that in the last days of the Shōgunate administrative policy was largely inspired at the seat of government by subordinate officials, and in the clans by retainers of inferior standing.
The question of dual government, which has led to this long digression, was more or less of a puzzle to foreigners from the time when Jesuit missionaries first mistook Shōguns for Mikados; and it was not until after the negotiation of the first treaties with Western Powers that it was discovered that the title of Tycoon given to the Japanese ruler in these documents had been adopted for the occasion, in accordance with a precedent created many years before, in order to conceal the fact that the Shōgun, though ruler, was not the Sovereign.
CHAPTER II
Establishment of Feudalism and Duarchy—The Shōgunate and the Throne—Early Foreign Relations—Christian Persecution and Closure of Country.
The fortunes of the first line of Kamakura Shōguns, so called from the seat of government being at that place, gave no indication of the permanence of duarchy, though it may have encouraged belief in the truth of the Japanese proverb that great men have no heirs. Neither of Yoritomo’s sons who succeeded him as Shōgun showing any capacity for government, the direction of affairs fell into the hands of members of the Hōjō family, who, by a further extension of the principle of ruling by proxy, were content to allow others to figure as Shōguns, while they held the real power with the title of regents (Shikken). Some of these puppet Shōguns were chosen from the Fujiwara family, which had governed the country for more than three centuries. Others were scions of the Imperial House. This connection of the Shōgunate with the Imperial dynasty, though only temporary, is a point to be noted, since under other circumstances it would suggest a devolution rather than a usurpation of sovereign rights.
It was in the thirteenth century, during the rule of the Hōjō regent Tokimuné, that the Mongol invasions took place. The reigning Mikado was a youth of nineteen; the Shōgun an infant of four. The six centuries which had elapsed since the Great Reform had witnessed notable changes in the countries which were Japan’s nearest neighbours. In China the Mongol dynasty was established. In Korea the four states into which the peninsula had originally been divided had disappeared one after the other. In their place was a new kingdom, then called for the first time by its modern name. The new kingdom did not retain its independence long. It was attacked and overthrown by the armies of Kublai Khan, the third Mongol Emperor. By the middle of the thirteenth century the King of Korea had acknowledged the suzerainty of China. Kublai Khan then turned his attention to Japan.
It was customary in those times for congratulatory missions to be sent by one country to another when a new dynasty was established or a new reign began, the presents exchanged on these occasions being usually termed gifts by the country offering them, and tribute by that which received them. The relations between Japan and the new Kingdom of Korea had been on the whole friendly, though disturbed from time to time by the piratical forays which seem to have been of frequent occurrence. But after Korea had lost her independence she was obliged to throw in her lot with China. When, therefore, in 1268, Kublai Khan sent an envoy to Japan to ask why since the beginning of his reign no congratulatory mission had reached Peking from the Japanese Court, the messenger naturally went by way of Korea, and was escorted by a suite of Koreans. The ports in the province of Chikuzen, on the north of Kiūshiū, the southernmost of the Japanese islands, were the places through which communications between Japan and the mainland were then carried on; and it was at Dazaifu in that province, the centre of local administration, that the envoy delivered his letter. This was in effect a demand for tribute, and the Regent’s refusal even to answer the communication was met by the despatch in the summer of 1275 of a Mongol force, accompanied by a Korean contingent. Having first occupied the islands of Tsushima and Iki, which form convenient stepping-stones between Korea and Japan, the invaders landed in Kiūshiū in the north-west of the province already mentioned. After a few days’ fighting they were forced to re-embark. In their retreat they encountered a violent storm, and only the shattered remnants of the Armada returned to tell the tale. A second invasion, six years later, planned on a far larger scale, and supported, as before, by Korean auxiliaries, met with a similar fate. On this occasion severer fighting occurred. The positions captured at the place of landing in the province of Hizen were held by the invaders for some weeks. Thence, however, they could make no headway. When they at length withdrew in disorder a violent storm again came to the aid of the defenders and overwhelmed the hostile fleets. The preparations begun by Kublai Khan for a third invasion were abandoned at his death a few years later. From that time Japan was left undisturbed.
The circumstances attending the fall of the Hōjō regents in 1333, and their replacement by the Ashikaga line of Shōguns, are noteworthy for the light they throw on the state of the country, and the unstable and, indeed, ludicrous conditions under which the government was carried on. It seemed for a moment as if the authority of the Court was about to be revived. But with the overthrow of the regents the movement in this direction stopped. The military class was naturally reluctant to surrender the power which had come into its hands; the position of the Mikado was also weakened by a dispute regarding his rights to the Throne. He had just returned from banishment, and had been at once reinstated as Emperor. But during his absence another Emperor had been placed on the Throne, and there were those who thought the latter had a right to remain. In the previous century it had been arranged, in accordance with the will of a deceased Emperor, that the Throne should be occupied alternately by descendants of the senior and junior branches of the Imperial House. This rule had been followed in filling the vacancy caused by the banishment of the previous Mikado, and the branch of the Imperial House which suffered by his reinstatement refused to accept the decision. Each claimant to the Throne found partizans amongst the feudal chieftains. Thus were formed two rival Courts, the Northern and the Southern, which disputed the Crown for nearly sixty years. The contest ended in the triumph in 1393 of the Northern Court. Having the support of the powerful Ashikaga family, it had early in the course of the struggle asserted its superiority, the Ashikaga leader becoming Shōgun in 1338.