Chapter XVII

PARTIES AND POLITICS. 1893-1906[1]

Having examined the salient features of the machinery of the new régime, we are now prepared to follow the history of the men and parties that have operated the machinery, and of the issues which have in turn guided the action of these political agents. Law and constitution are products of history and legislation, but men and parties, as also issues at stake, are the handiwork of mightier powers which can hardly be reduced into syllogisms or molded by mere force of traditions and precedents. Of all the political factors of a nation, the progress of the party and the individuality of the man seem the least subject to human artifice and control, while the problems, which must largely decide the course of action of the different political forces at work, appear continually to baffle one's imagination and forecast. It must then be a matter of great interest to observe the conduct of the most prominent politicians in the field and their eventful relations to the changing parties, and the history of the issues, domestic and foreign, which have sometimes astounded the actors on the scene by their unexpected emergence and sometimes wearied them by their persistent and unwelcome reappearance. What follows is a mere sketch of a period of the most bewildering political vicissitudes that have ever visited a nation in a decade.

The period between 1890 and 1904 might be divided into three epochs. Down to 1894, when the war with China broke out, the relation between the government and the parties in the lower house was in the main one of simple difference of political theories. With the war the nation entered, externally, into the arena of world-politics, while, in the diet, there dawned an era of varied coalitions among the parties and also between them and the government. Desire for power seemed to begin to affect the minds of the politicians whose aspirations had heretofore been comparatively more idealistic. A grand party was finally created by the combined influence of Marquis Itō, on the one hand, who apparently aimed at organizing a model constitutional party, and, on the other, of an enormous number of men the motives of some of whom were anything but a copy of those of their leader. When the whips of this new party, which controlled a majority in the diet, began to manifest unwillingness to accept the discipline and to override the wishes of its founder and leader, Marquis Itō, the politics of new Japan entered its third stage, in which the controlling factors are found to be even more personal and partisan and a matter of interests and feeling, than in the second period. As soon as the nation entered upon the war with Russia, however, the political atmosphere at once changed: the party lines and the traditional differences between the diet and the government were temporarily obliterated, and the nation—the cabinet, the two houses, and the people—seemed to think and feel as one mind. The conclusion of the treaty of peace with Russia, the terms of which displeased many Japanese, has suddenly terminated this union and alienated the cabinet and the privy council from some people, while the dividing lines between the various parties are being again drawn on changed issues. When this critical stage passes away, the political life of constitutional Japan must inevitably enter its fourth epoch, but what its nature will be remains to be seen. At this moment the future progress of the party life of the Japanese nation appears to be as difficult to forecast as it was in 1890, when the first diet was convened.

The first period, then, opens with the existence of two popular parties, the Liberals and Progressives, led, respectively, by Count Itagaki and Count Ōkuma. The members of the parties who sat in the first lower house represented an overwhelmingly preponderant interest of the landowning class of the country, so that a revision of land values and consequently a reduction of the land tax were among their rallying cries. At the same time they aimed at overthrowing the existing cabinet, which they considered under the exclusive control of men of certain provinces of the south, principally Satsuma and Nagato (Chōshū), which had once been instrumental in upsetting the feudal régime and restoring the imperial government. It is remarkable that the party men almost identified the future downfall of sectionalism, as they deemed the foundation of the administration to be, with the cause of the establishment of a responsible cabinet, or a cabinet responsible to the throne as well as to the diet. Needless to say that, from the party standpoint, a responsible cabinet was ipso facto a party cabinet. It will be recalled that the Constitution, which had recently been promulgated and according to whose provisions the diet had been called into being, defined, so far as the explicit verbal meaning was concerned, that the government was answerable for its political conduct to the emperor. The theory of the full sovereignty of the throne was loyally and enthusiastically supported by the entire nation, but the parties did not fail to see the apparent possibility of reconciling it with a practical control of the cabinet by the diet. It is little wonder that they straightway crystallized their principle into the phrase, "a responsible cabinet," which they at once conceived as merely the positive side of another of their mottoes, "the downfall of sectionalism." The government and the Elder Statesmen, it is not improbable, possessed a clearer vision of the foibles of the young parties, and consequently a more conservative but truer foresight of the future progress of the political training of the nation. The question between the parties and the government appears, in the last analysis, to have been largely a question of time, the former harassing the latter for not giving them at once what they probably knew it would cheerfully surrender when the proper time came. Yet, by the law of reaction, the parties rashly attacked the government, and the latter not infrequently resorted to measures of self-defense which appeared to the partisan opponents unwarranted and even arbitrary. Bitter feelings were not seldom aroused, and the sentiment of the people at large was at times so highly wrought that it was by no means uncommon to see neighbors in a village range themselves according to their sympathy with either the government or the party side in their heated controversies by the fireside. Election scenes often presented exciting incidents. It should be noted that the majority of the rural population sided with the anti-government candidates, but that the two parties, the Liberals and Progressives, seldom failed to struggle against each other in the election. Things went on mainly in this condition until Count (now Marquis) Itō became premier of the famous Itō cabinet, which lasted for an unusual period of four years, during which, moreover, the victorious war with China took place.

At first the count found the opposition of the lower house to his so-called sectional government so powerful that he even contemplated the advisability of creating a new political party of his own. Early in 1894 the diet was dissolved; the March election returned a majority of the opposition and was followed by a second dissolution. Under such circumstances it was no wonder that the late Chinese statesman, Li Hung Chang, is alleged to have fancied at the time that Japan's hands were too closely tied by the strife between the diet and the government to resort to a decisive measure against China over Korea, which was then the bone of contention between the two empires. But the war did come, for the successful conduct of which the nation sank their party considerations and supported with one mind the government and the army. An account of this important warfare will be found in its proper place, and it suffices here to point out its interesting effect on the parliamentary politics of Japan. The new position in the comity of nations which the world accorded her after the war naturally brought with it new problems of unexpected importance. One of them was an enormous increase of state expenditures caused by an increased armament and by the plans for the development of the resources of the country. Hereafter financial questions became the central issue to decide the fate of the succeeding houses and cabinets, and their practical and urgent character made it impossible for the cabinet to carry out its proposed measures without the coöperation of the one or the other of the parties in the house. Naturally an era of political coalitions dawned. It may also be surmised that the parties, at least some of their leaders, had been tired of a long fruitless struggle with the government. However that may be, no one will deny that henceforth the desire for power began to be manifested by the parties which, whatever their faults, had in the main fought for a few abstract principles which had originally brought them together. On the other hand, it is only just to point out the important fact that the so loudly denounced sectionalism had in reality become a phantom, particularly after the inception of the constitutional régime in 1890 and the Chinese war in 1894-1895, both of which had a tremendous influence in arousing the interest of the nation at large in its own affairs. The southern provinces could still furnish men of experience and wisdom, but it was less because the so-called sectionalism was still rampant than because these men, who possessed the prestige of service and age, could not well be replaced by the less experienced men of other localities. The Elder Statesmen could no longer control the political situation of the country, nor could they reasonably be charged with being animated with any degree of provincialism. It would be no political apostasy for either party to support a non-partisan cabinet whose policy appealed to its cherished principles. Thus various circumstances seem to have conspired to produce an epoch of political coalitions.

The ninth diet opened early in December, 1895, to which the Itō cabinet proposed the first so-called post-bellum measures to be carried out within the ensuing ten years. Briefly stated, the additional requirements on account of "ordinary" expenditures of states were to be met by an increased taxation aggregating the sum of more than thirty-three and one-half million yen; the expansion of the armament and the establishment of an iron foundry were to be paid out of the Chinese indemnity and other "extraordinary" items of revenue, which altogether amounted to over 365 millions; and the improvement and extension of railroads, telephone, and the like were calculated to be covered by the issuance of public bonds. It is essential in our discussion to keep in our minds the three sources of increased revenue. As to the first, that is, the increased taxation, we must note as a matter of great importance that many of the most interesting features of the political history from this time on have been determined by whether it was the landowners or the urban population who were called upon to bear the bulk of the added imposition. In the present case the burden fell on the latter class of people, and this fact was fortunate for the reception of the bill in the house, which consisted almost wholly of representatives of the landowning interest. The passage of the measure was, however, entirely owing to the alliance between the government and the Liberal Party. Unfortunately, some of the financial schemes of the Itō cabinet were soon found to be falling short of the expectations of their authors, and a large deficit of the revenue for the next fiscal year, amounting to nearly ninety-three millions of yen, brought about the downfall of the cabinet, which had otherwise proved the most brilliant and powerful that had yet guided the affairs of the state under the new régime.

The succeeding cabinet was headed by the great financier, Count Matsukata, and was for a time supported by the Progressives, whose leader, Count Ōkuma, occupied the portfolio of foreign affairs. The tenth diet (1896-1897) ran its course smoothly, as there appeared no important financial measure to stir up the partisan blood in the lower house, but the next diet, which met in December, 1897, witnessed an altogether different scene. In spite of the painful manipulations of the items of the budget, and of the fact that the issues of the recently raised taxes had reached the exchequer, a large deficit of over fourteen million yen stared the Matsukata cabinet in the face, and, moreover, promised to rise considerably higher the next year. Count Matsukata now resolved to increase the revenue by twenty-five millions by raising the rates of certain taxes, one of which, the land tax, was probably among the fairest sources of an increased income, but was destined to arouse a stormy opposition of the representatives. No sooner was the count's design known than the Progressives, with their versatile leader, deserted the cabinet. This was the first time that the lower house, one of whose old cries had been to revise land values and reduce the land tax, was called upon to discuss a financial measure to which the interest of the constituencies of their overwhelming majority was diametrically opposed. We might perhaps consider the eleventh diet, for this reason, as marking a new stage in which the question of class interests, so promising of ominous consequences, began to manifest itself. The determined opposition of the house against the cabinet was quickly followed by the dissolution of the former and the fall of the latter.

The year 1898 witnessed the most surprising political changes that have taken place in any single year since the beginning of the constitutional régime of Japan. In January Marquis Itō again held the reins of the cabinet. The Liberals would not support him, nor would Count Ōkuma leave his lieutenants behind in order to join the cabinet. The government thus declaring itself clear of entangling alliances, the parties hastened to their constituencies to prepare for the general election of March. The nation had never seen such peculiar political conditions as then prevailed all over the country. The new "transcendental" cabinet had committed itself to no definite policy. There were practically no issues on which the parties could address themselves to the people, who had not been without some misgivings as to the conduct of their former representatives in the lower house, and who could no longer be blinded by the specter of the so-called sectionalism. The election resulted in giving an absolute majority to neither the party members nor the supporters of the government. After the election, however, political issues quickly crystallized themselves as soon as it was known that the cabinet would propose an increase of taxes, mainly the land tax, by more than thirty-five millions of yen. The Liberals and the Progressives, hitherto so jealous of each other, joined hands to reject the proposition, for which act the house earned another dissolution, on June 10. With an amazing celerity the two parties voluntarily amalgamated themselves into the colossal "Constitutional Party," with the realization of a party cabinet as its motto.

It will easily be seen that this precipitous move had been caused by the common landed interest which the two former parties represented in the house, and which had risen to its height of intensity at the repeated appearance of the land tax bill, and by the plain fact that power and spoil would fall into their hands the more readily by their combined warfare with the authorities. In order to meet this united front of the opposition, Marquis Itō again had a mind to organize a party of his own, but was strenuously opposed in this desire by the other Elder Statesmen, particularly Count Yamagata, who, together with the majority of the peers, were stanch supporters of the literal interpretation of the Constitution in respect to its theory of ministerial responsibility. Nothing could have been more significant and characteristic of Marquis Itō than his action at this critical juncture of the history of the Constitution and of his own career. The organization of the Constitutional Party had been publicly announced on June 22, and on the 24th the premier tendered his resignation, together with an earnest recommendation to the throne that the leaders of the new party be summoned to form a cabinet. This stroke was natural when we consider that the quick vision of the marquis must have seen the impossibility of building between the two fires of the party and the Elders. He, however, could not have foreseen all the momentous consequences of this adroit coup. The lightning speed of his act stunned friend and foe alike. The party found itself utterly unprepared to grasp the opportunity so suddenly thrust upon it. On the other hand, in the inverse proportion that his conduct gratified the party, it was galling to his numerous friends in the house of peers, in the privy council, and in the government and the court, many of whom owed their training and advancement to the veteran statesman, but who must now have felt as if they had been deserted by him at the critical moment. The deep-seated resentment against the marquis which was created among the peers, who had always regarded him as the living exponent of the theory of the non-partisan cabinet hereafter must be particularly borne in mind. Would it not appear plain that they would oppose him if he should again become premier with the aid of a party, and would it not be equally clear that if another cabinet should be formed from among themselves, the party politicians would present an obstinate opposition to it? It will be seen later that all these things have since actually taken place. If we may regard the first introduction of the land tax question into the house in 1897 as the beginning of the controlling influence of a class-interest, the abrupt resignation of Marquis Itō in 1898 may be said to mark the dawn of an era in which human feelings not altogether expressible in words began to play an important rōle in parliamentary politics. When feelings and interests, independent of principles and issues, come to influence the course of events, the conflicts of their agents must inevitably become at times bitter. As to the marquis himself, however, June 24, 1898, was perhaps another of the turning points of his life, through which he successfully extricated himself from a groove and made a leap forward.