The Awakening of the East: Siberia—Japan—China

by Pierre Leroy-Beaulieu

Contemporary historical research has resulted in clearing away a good deal of the mist which shrouded in a veil of mystery the primitive history of Japan. It would seem, however, for instance, that some centuries before our era the Mongolian pirates indulged in frequent incursions upon the western coast of the country in much the same unpleasant manner as did, some thousand years later, the Normans in Europe. After exterminating the natives, who were not numerous, they established themselves, together with their wives and families, in the island of Kiu-Siu. Later on, an illustrious chief, who turns out on closer acquaintance to be none other than Jimmu-Tenno, of legendary fame, crossed over to the great island and ‘found it peopled by inhabitants of the same race as himself’; hence it becomes evident that there were two distinct migrations from the mainland of the ancestors of the actual Japanese, a fact confirmed in a double cycle of heroic legends, one of which deals with the island of Kiu-Siu and the other with the province of Idzuma, situated on the west coast of Hondo, an island opposite Korea.

The Japanese, therefore, form a part of the great family scientifically known as the Uralo-Altaic, which includes the Finns, the Hungarians, the Turks, the Mongols and the Koreans. The different branches of this family appear to be less closely united than are those of the white race, but on the other hand, their languages, which are distinctly agglutinant, have certainly a common origin. It should be remarked that the Chinese do not form part of this group, constituting a family quite apart, whose language is distinctly monosyllabic and rhythmic. Their handwriting, however, was adopted by the Japanese between a thousand and twelve hundred years ago, as were also a number of words describing objects which up to that time were unknown to them, and probably introduced from China. If it is an undoubted fact that the Chinese and Japanese belong to the Yellow Race, the link which unites them is quite as remote as that which exists between a Frenchman and a German on the one hand, or an Arab and a Kabyle on the other. A superficial analogy between the Chinese and the Japanese must not mislead us. The very sparse indigenous race which the Korean immigrants found upon the south and south-west of Japan were of the same family as the Ainos of our time, of whom some 15,000 still linger in Yezo, the great southern island of the Archipelago; and, moreover, they belonged to the same race as the Ghilaks of the Amur, and the tribes to the north-east of Siberia. These Ainos, who exist by hunting and fishing, are considered to be the hairiest people on earth; they are mere savages, quite as dirty in their habits as the Japanese are clean. They had in all probability little or nothing to do with the formation of the actual population.

The civilization of the ancient Japanese until the fifth or sixth century of our era was, it seems, most primitive. Writing was unknown, and the people were but just emancipated from the Stone Age, their knowledge of the use of metal being very limited. They owned a few domestic animals, the horse and the dog, and also poultry. They cultivated rice, millet, barley, two sorts of peas, and in addition to these cereals the sea and the rivers supplied them with fish, and the forests with flesh. They apparently ate more meat than do their descendants of the present day, a fact due, of course, to the introduction of Buddhism, whose followers are, or should be, vegetarians. As to their houses, they were of wood and extremely simple.

The Shinto religion, which has become once more the State religion, has a mythology formed out of legends dealing with the generation of the gods who preceded the advent of the Imperial family. Out of the eight hundred myriads of divinities only some half-dozen are now venerated. Among these is Amaterasu, Goddess of the Sun, and ancestress of Jimmu-Tenno. The spirits of the deceased Mikados and of certain heroes are known as Kami, ‘superior beings,’ and are honoured by this title, as are also the ancestors of each family. Beyond this Shintoism recognises neither dogma nor ethics. A writer of the last century thus apologizes for this easy-going creed. ‘It was,’ says he, ‘invented by the Chinese, because they are a very immoral people; but in Japan morality is not needed, since the Japanese have only to act according to the dictates of their hearts to do well. To obey the Emperor, who is the descendant of the gods, and almost a god himself, and follow one’s natural inclinations, are the only precepts imposed upon its followers by Shintoism, and a pilgrimage to the nearest temple once a year the only kind of divine service exacted. There are no public ceremonies, excepting an occasional hieratic dance performed by young girls. In the wooden temples roofed with bark, which are supposed to reproduce the habitations of the primitive Japanese, there are no ornaments, no sculpture, and no representations whatever of the Divinity. The priests, who wear no distinctive costume, and who lead the lives of ordinary citizens, occasionally don a rich garment with long flowing sleeves, go to the various temples and perform certain very simple rites in the presence of a mystic mirror to be found in every temple, a facsimile of one given by the Goddess of the Sun to her grandson Jimmu-Tenno, as an emblem of purity. A white horse will also sometimes be seen within the precincts of the temples. The only sacrifice is the offering of fruits, fish, wine, and rice, accompanied by the recitation of certain prayers in the ancient Japanese language; this is, it must be confessed, an exceedingly primitive cultus, but it was the only one known in Japan until the sixth century, at which epoch began the great development of Chinese civilization in Japan, originally introduced, however, by the invasion of Korea by the Japanese armies at the commencement of the third century. The Korean envoys who brought the annual tribute to their Japanese conquerors eventually became the pioneers of civilization among the more primitive race which had overcome them. They brought into the country, for instance, in the year 284 the art of writing. Possibly this date is erroneous and ought to be 400, the period when, according to a very ancient tradition, the first mention of medicine is made in the national history, on the occasion of the grave illness of the then reigning Mikado, who was cured by a Korean physician. Then followed the silkworm, and the mulberry-tree, the arts of spinning and weaving. Finally, in 552 the first image of Buddha appeared, and eventually led to the introduction of the religion of Sakyamuni.

From this period until the beginning of the seventh century there was a perfect invasion of the arts, customs, and opinions, religious, social, and political, of the neighbouring continent. Then was for the first time displayed that ardour which is so peculiar to the Japanese, and, if I might so say, also of that rage for civilization—true, it was then only Chinese civilization—which characterizes them at the present day.

Buddhism triumphed without formidable opposition, and at the beginning of the seventh century there were not less than forty-six temples and 1,385 priests or Buddhist monks in Japan. The Chinese calendar was adopted, the language, writing and literature of China were studied with enthusiasm. Ambassadors and special missions were sent to the continent to examine on the spot the religion, the arts, the industries and also the government of the Chinese and their political and judicial system. Thus it so came to pass that feudalism was introduced centuries before it was imposed upon Europe after the fall of the Roman Empire. At the death of the Empress Suiko in 628, under whose reign all these reforms took place, Japan was completely remodelled after the image and likeness of China. The remarkable feature about this transformation is its resemblance to the revolution now in progress. It was effected without the least opposition or violence. The methods used then were the same as those which are being employed to-day: the sending forth of missions and the employment of foreigners by the Government to study and introduce everything that was likely to improve the country and its people. Above all, there existed a universal goodwill and eagerness to stimulate the advance movement. Japan, therefore, by her wonderful powers of assimilation, was suddenly converted from a barbarian to a civilized country. Nevertheless, however deep-rooted was the influence of China, it did not interfere with the architecture and the art of the Japanese, which remained distinct. The good sense of this able people taught them to distinguish between the different elements in the civilization which they were introducing, to reject those which did not suit them, and to transform others which were better fitted to their inclination. A reaction, however, set in between the eighth and the eleventh centuries which enabled the Japanese to recover sufficient of their identity and yet retain most of the innovations in their industries, agriculture, and fine arts, in the culture of which latter they eventually surpassed their masters. The new religion suited them admirably, and it remains to this day much less corrupt in Japan than it is among the Chinese themselves. The official and administrative system introduced from China, being opposed to the natural bent of the Japanese mind, was, however, soon rejected, and they returned to their own, which suited them better.

The mandarinate was never acclimatized, and the principle of heredity always remained in force. The divers degrees of dignity, at first twelve in number and then nineteen, were never given, as in China, to individuals, but to families as hereditary titles. The position, for instance, of Prime Minister, or Kwambaku, became hereditary in a great family of the Court, that of the Fujiwaras, from which, moreover, according to tradition, the Empress was invariably selected. Then began to manifest itself that very peculiar trait in the history of Japan of real authority very rarely being vested in the hand of the man supposed to exercise it. The Mikado, who, from the ninth century onwards, was invariably a child, and abdicated in youth to retire into a monastery, is supposed to reign and yet never govern. This was the beginning of a system of Imperial self-effacement which lasted over a thousand years. Presently we discover that the hereditary Kwambaku also exercises no authority, which is exactly the opposite of what took place in Europe in the Middle Ages, where, if a Sovereign retired into privacy, his Prime Minister was pretty certain to become forthwith correspondingly prominent. In the Middle Ages, at an epoch when Europe was engaged in fighting and slaughtering, the Court of Kioto was a centre of art, pleasure and poetry, in which, however, authority was completely set aside.

In the meantime, feudalism established itself in the country. Side by side with the effeminate aristocracy of the kuges, certain nobles descended from collateral branches of the Imperial family, and who in their time had occupied great official positions, both in the provinces and in the capital, leaving subalterns to fulfil their duties, now formed themselves into a military and territorial aristocracy, and, whilst profound peace reigned in the greater part of the country, carried on a war against the Koreans in its south-eastern limits, and against the Ainos, who had been driven back to the north of Hondo, in the north-east. The custom imported from China by the Japanese of separating the civil from the military functionaries, combined with a genius for heredity, led in the course of time to the creation of many great military families, under whose authority or lead clans of soldiers grouped and gradually separated themselves from the rest of the population. The chiefs of these clans in due time became, especially in the tenth century, in the north and eastern provinces, independent, so that by degrees their influence during the two succeeding centuries in the Government was paramount, and the Court of Kioto was the object of perpetual dissensions between two great military families, the Taira, and the Minamoto, both descendants of Emperors of the eighth and ninth centuries. They had each a claimant to the Imperial throne, who was invariably an infant. A Taira, Kiyomori, governed Japan from 1156 to 1181 in the position of Prime Minister. He ordered the Minamoto family to be massacred; one or two of its members, however, escaped, among them Yoritomo, the son of the chief. In due course of time this Yoritomo created a revolution in Kwanto in his own favour. Upon learning of the death of Kiyomori he straightway marched upon Kioto in company with his bastard brother, Yoshitsune, who had escaped from a monastery to which he had been relegated. Between them they seized the capital and proclaimed a child of seven years of age Emperor in the place of the Mikado Antoku, who was not much older, and who was carried off by the Taira to the island of Kiu-Siu. The great naval battle of Dan-no-ura, won by Yoshitsune in 1185 at the mouth of the Inland Sea, completed the ruin of the Taira, who, together with their Emperor, were nearly all slain in the disaster to their fleet, which made Yoritomo master of Japan.

Yoritomo behaved with the utmost ingratitude to his brother Yoshitsune, who had so largely contributed to his success. He ordered him never to appear again at Court, and sent a group of assassins to pursue him to the farther end of the island. His life was frequently saved, thanks to the shrewdness of the giant monk Benkei and the devotion of the dancing-girl Shidzuka. The adventures of the brave Yoshitsune and his death by suicide has supplied Japanese literature with a number of interesting and picturesque legends not unlike those which delighted our ancestors in the Middle Ages.

After these events, the feudal system was firmly established in Japan for over seven centuries, and we hear no more of Chinese methods of administration. This is mainly due to the warlike character of the Japanese people and to the increasing power of the feudal chiefs, who had naturally, in order to maintain their reputation, to keep the country in a perpetual ferment of political or civil war. The striking difference between the feudal system in Japan and that which existed contemporaneously in Europe is that the Japanese ruler was never the Sovereign. He was called the Shogun, or Sei-i-tai-Shogun, literally, ‘General charged with the duty of subjugating the barbarians.’ This title was first bestowed upon Yoritomo in 1192. It was the Shogun’s duty to govern. In theory he was responsible to the Emperor, whose humble servant he was supposed to be. As a matter of fact, the Mikado had long since ceased to interfere in the government, and lived in the palace of Gosho at Kioto in the midst of luxury, his generals and ministers paying him no other respect than that of mere ceremony.