Hirohito and the Making of Modern Japan
By Herbert P. Bix
HarperCollins; 1st Perennial Ed edition (9 Nov. 2001)
ISBN-13: 978-0060931308
Review by Ben-Ami Shillony
More than ten years after his death, Hirohito (or Emperor Showa as he is now called) continues to draw attention and generate controversy. To many people in the world he personifies Japan's aggression before and during World War II, its extraordinary postwar recovery, and the intricate continuities between the two periods. Most of the writings about him focus on his role in the "Fifteen Year War" (which lasted for less than fourteen years). Almost everything he did prior to that upheaval is considered as preparation for it, and most of what he did after the war is treated as a consequence of it. The book under review, the largest and most detailed biography of Hirohito in English, follows that pattern. Superbly written, meticulously researched, and vigorously advertised, it received the 2000 National Book Critics Award for Biography and Autobiography, and the 2001 Pulitzer Prize for General Non-Fiction. Its main thesis contends that Hirohito, contrary to the conventional view that he was mostly a titular figure, was the actual wartime leader of Japan who decided on strategy and operations. After the defeat, with the help of the American occupation which needed his cooperation, he contrived a massive cover-up of his wartime role. This enabled him to conceal his culpability and to remain on the throne. Hirohito's refusal to assume responsibility distorted the nature of postwar democracy and pacifism and prevented the Japanese from confronting their past.
Blaming Hirohito for the war is not a new idea. Thirty years ago, David Bergamini, in his controversial book Japan's Imperial Conspiracy (William Morrow, 1971), accused the emperor of instigating the war and of personally ordering the atrocities. Four years later, the Japanese historian Inoue Kiyoshi, in his Tenno no senso sekinin (Gendai hyoron-sha, 1975), described Hirohito as a reckless reactionary responsible for the war. In the last decade, Herbert Bix broached his theory of the emperor as the war leader in his article "The Showa Emperor's 'Monologue' and the Problem of War Responsibility" (Journal of Japanese Studies, Summer 1992), while Irokawa Daikichi in his book The Age of Hirohito: In Search of Modern Japan (Free Press 1995) accused Hirohito for failing to prevent the war. The postwar cover up has been expounded in John W. Dower's book Embracing Defeat: Japan in the Wake of World War II (Norton, 1999).
In this volume, Bix puts to final rest the belief that the emperor was an uninformed, helpless puppet in the hands of the military. Very few would argue with him over that. But he turns to the other extreme, claiming that Hirohito was the "major protagonist" (p. 520) of the war. Other historians, examining more or less the same material, reached different conclusions. Stephen S. Large, in his Emperor Hirohito & Showa Japan (Routledge, 1992), found that the emperor was involved in the war as an informed observer and as a sanctioner of military plans, but he never initiated, decided or dictated policy. Hata Ikuhiko, in his Showa tenno itsutsu no ketsudan (Bungei shunju, 1994), claimed that during the years 1937-1945 Hirohito made only one important decision, that of ending the war. Peter Wetzler, in his recent book Hirohito and War: Imperial Tradition and Military Decision Making in Prewar Japan (University of Hawaii Press, 1998), pointed out that in accordance with the political tradition of Japan, the emperor was only one of several participants in the decision making process. Therefore he had to be consulted, but could not dictate to others. Wetzler dismisses the theory that Hirohito was a frustrated peace lover, but he rejects Bix's claim (as presented in the 1992 article), that the emperor led Japan in war. On the basis of the wartime records, he concludes that Hirohito was well informed on military planning, was often consulted, occasionally made suggestions, but at no time did he determine strategy in the manner of a Western commander in chief.
Bix bases his theory on the vast powers that the emperor wielded, on the aggressive edicts, orders, and declarations that he issued, and on the hawkish persons that he appointed to leadership positions. Indeed, the Meiji constitution established the emperor as a supreme ruler, invested him with the powers to declare war and determine policy, and gave him direct command over the armed forces. Bix claims that this derived from "the ancient notion that the emperor was the medium through which the gods worked their will (p. 54)." Therefore Hirohito was burdened with "enormous responsibilities from which he could have no escape so long as he ruled (p. 442)." Yet the historic facts are different. In both the ancient tradition and the modern practice, the emperors were symbolic rulers, sanctioning the policies of those whom they had officially "chosen," but who in fact gained power by their own means. The Meiji constitution removed responsibility from the emperor and invested it in his government. All the rescripts, edicts, and declarations of the emperor, which Bix quotes extensively and to which he attaches great importance, were composed by the cabinet or other government organs. All the appointments that he "made" had been decided in advance by others and "humbly submitted" to him for approval. All the military orders that he "issued" had been formulated by the armed forces and presented to him for signature. On some occasions his personal views were taken into consideration, but except for August 1945, he was never expected to make a major decision.
In modern legal terms he was responsible for all that was done in his name, but that was not the political tradition of Japan. If Hirohito was responsible for the war that he declared, the orders that he issued and the prime ministers that he appointed, then Emperor Meiji should be praised, or blamed, for the two wars that he declared, the modernizing edicts that he issued, and the leaders that he appointed. Yet neither Bix nor any other modern historian gives him that credit. Japanese writers in the Meiji period attributed all the achievements of the state to the emperor, while blaming others for the failures. Bix does the opposite: he blames Hirohito for all that went wrong, but does not credit him with any achievement. He sees a difference between the two emperors: "in virtually everything he had done since becoming emperor, Hirohito had departed from the precedent set by his grandfather (p. 433)." But the evidence points to the contrary: in dedicating himself to the war effort, Hirohito followed in the footsteps of his illustrious grandfather whom he often quoted. Both emperors presided over aggressive wars against China, in which atrocities were committed (after the capture of Port Arthur in 1894, the Japanese massacred tens of thousands of its inhabitants). Both took their roles as commanders in chief very seriously. As Carol Gluck has pointed out, Emperor Meiji spent eight months with the imperial headquarters in Hiroshima, "enduring the privations of a soldier" and working "day and night at military affairs."1 Bix claims that Hirohito was more militaristic than his grandfather, because he was accompanied by military aides-de-camp and wore a uniform (p. 89), but Emperor Meiji too was surrounded by military aides and appeared in public in military uniform.
Following Wetzler, but without mentioning him, Bix looks for the clues to Hirohito's behavior in his early schooling. Like Wetzler, he delves into the lectures of his teachers Sugiura Shigetake, Shiratori Kurakichi, and others, who "formed the context in which his rational, objective thinking was embedded (p. 62)." But the revelations of who taught him what add little to our understanding of his behavior. Like his predecessors, Hirohito acted as he was expected to rather than as he wished to. He followed the example of Emperor Meiji, who despite his introvert and conservative personality complied with the wishes of the modern-minded oligarchs. What Hirohito was taught was part of the official ideology that would have reached him in one way or another. Emperor Meiji, who had received a different education, embraced the same ideas. The doctrine about the divine origin of the imperial family, that both emperors were taught, was as old as the dynasty itself, and did not "clash" with modern scientific thought more than did the national myths of the West at that time. Nor was Hirohito a product of a "hybrid education" more than any other Japanese of his generation.
Bix explores the diaries and memoirs of the people who surrounded Hirohito to prove that in private sessions he questioned, advised, warned and prodded the military to pursue an aggressive war. Yet these testimonies, even if true, show a pathetic figure, trying to influence the course of events behind the scenes. Had Hirohito been a real leader, like Hitler, Stalin, Roosevelt, or Churchill, he would have issued his orders directly and formally, without having to resort to backroom maneuvers. Bix maintains that the emperor's role "was deliberately camouflaged (p. 359)," but why camouflage the leadership of an emperor who is the helmsman of the state?
The evidence that the book presents does not prove that the emperor was the major protagonist of the war. Bix admits that the most crucial matters, like joining the axis, were decided by the government, but he blames Hirohito for his "mistaken judgment in sanctioning them (p. 382)." He admits that the momentous decision to go to war, if negotiations fail, was made by the liaison conference, but he describes Hirohito's approval of it as "the most important decision of his entire life (410)." Had Hirohito been a real leader, he would have decided on such matters himself rather than leaving them to others. However, if the government made the decisions and the emperor had to approve them, wasn't it natural for him to act as expected? Bix tries to differentiate between the periods, claiming that only in the summer of 1941 Hirohito became "commander in chief in every sense of the word (p. 387)." His proof: the liaison-conference moved then to the palace and the emperor became updated daily about the military situation. But this was the normal procedure in time of war and does not indicate a sudden increase of power. The case of Tojo is revealing. Bix admits that Hirohito did not intervene in the controversy between the army and the navy over strategy, entrusting the matter to his "favorite prime minister (p. 473)." Yet when the military and civilian leaders decided that Tojo should go, the emperor had to comply, hardly the behavior of a war leader.
The author accepts the evidence which fits his theory, but discards that which contradicts it. He believes Konoe that Hirohito endorsed the views of the military, but does not believe him that the emperor wished to avoid war (pp. 419-420). He believes Hirohito's admission, in the Monologue, that one of his motives for ending the war was to preserve the dynasty, but does not believe him that his main motive was to save the people (p. 515). When evidence is lacking, innuendo is used. Bix accuses Hirohito of pressuring the army to invade India. His proof: "Although no documents indicate that Hirohito himself actively promoted this particular offensive, it was just the sort of operation he had pushed for all through the war - aggressive and short-sighted (pp. 474-5)." In other words, we believe he did it because it fitted his monstrous nature. Indeed, throughout the book Bix shows a visceral aversion to the emperor and the monarchy. When Hirohito was enthroned in 1928, "the raw despotism of the monarchy reared its ugly head (p. 56)." The daijosai ceremony expressed a "heaven-sent racism (p. 196)," which "contributed to closing Japanese society once again to the absorption of new Western thought (p. 198)." The wish to be informed meant that: "Like a silent spider positioned at the center of a wide, multisided web, Hirohito spread his filaments into every organ of the state (p. 179)." During the last stages of the war, the emperor "abetted the killing by his bullheaded refusal to accept and deal with Japan's defeat (p. 484)." The other villain of the book is the supreme commander of the allied forces General Douglas MacArthur. According to Bix, the two men "knew how to practice deception - MacArthur of his superiors at every single stage of his career; Hirohito of the entire Japanese nation (p. 548)."
Bix blames Hirohito for the "failure to acknowledge his own moral, political, and legal accountability for the long war fought in his name and under his active direction (p. 16)." It is true that Hirohito never assumed responsibility for the war in public, but Bix does not refer to MacArthur's testimony, whether corroborated or not, that the emperor told him, during their first meeting: "I come to you, General MacArthur, to offer myself to the judgment of the powers you represent as the one to bear sole responsibility for every political and military decision made and action taken by my people in the conduct of the war."2 He argues that Hirohito refused to abdicate because "he believed himself to be a monarch of divine right (p. 16)," but he ignores the fact that abdication had nothing to do with divinity. About half of all Japanese emperors abdicated, despite the belief in their divine right. The claim that Hirohito never considered resignation is not accurate. According to Nakamura Masanori, who quotes the Kido diary, the emperor considered abdication on several occasions, but was turned down by the authorities.3
Bix does not find anything positive that Hirohito did after the war. The declaration of humanity was "one more attempt by Hirohito and his advisers to limit, not to lead, the 'democratization of the people' (p. 562)." Sanctioning the democratic and pacifist constitution, which demoted his status to that of a symbol, was the result of fear that otherwise "he would be pressured into abdication (p. 575)." The reader wonders why sanctioning the war emanated from Hirohito's genuine will, while sanctioning peace and democracy emanated from pressure and fear. Couldn't one claim the opposite?
The perplexed reader may relax. On the last page of the book, while speculating on the future of the dynasty, Bix surmises that "like Ito and the genro with Meiji; and like Kido, the militarists and MacArthur with Showa, some future national leadership may rise and find effective ways to make use of the new monarch or his successors (p. 688)." In other words, despite all that has been argued in this book, the author acknowledges that the modern emperors of Japan were manipulated by the political and military leaders of their time. So, unexpectedly, we are back to the good old theory which may not be wrong after all.
(This review first appeared in The Journal of Japanese Studies, winter 2002)
1 Carol Gluck, Japan's Modern Myths (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1985), p. 88.
2 Douglas MacArthur, Reminiscences (London: Heinemann, 1965), p. 288.
3 Nakamura Masanori, The Japanese Monarchy (New York: M.E. Sharpe, 1992), pp. 114-6