Bushido

Let me preface this post with a note: I am not so bored at school this week that I have resorted to writing book reports. OK, maybe that is a lie. I am not sure. I basically just had a few thoughts about an intriguing book, and decided to make my comments public in the event that someone would be interested in reading it, rather than keeping it to myself. The content is not at all about what Claire and I have been up to, though, so feel free to skip over it if you are short on time. That being said, here you go…

Bushido - Comments and Thoughts

I just finished reading Bushido: The Soul of Japan, by Inazou Nitobe. One of my coworkers saw what I was reading yesterday when I took the book out of it’s brown paper jacket (very Japanese), and was astonished that a young lady would be interested in the subject (very not Japanese). The International Understanding club read the book this fall, so I asked to borrow a copy out of curiosity. I have had it for a while, but the teacher that lent me his copy is transferring schools at the end of the week, so I realized I needed to get reading so I could give it back. In hindsight, I am glad I waited to read it, because I think I got more out of it with some foundation in Japanese and slightly more grounded knowledge of Japanese history and exposure to the culture. There is without doubt quite a lot that I would not have fully comprehended without the time here, and surely exists even more that I don’t even realize I don’t know. Bushido is also only 150 pages long, so it’s possible to finish in a day. Like Sun Tao’s Art of War, however, the length does not indicate the impact. To illustrate this point, you need only to check out its affect on modern Japanese culture. If you go to the profile for Tom Cruise’s The Last Samurai (2003) on http://www.imdb.com, you will find that Bushido is part of the film’s official title. Bushido, this book and the word for the Samurai code is, in a sense, a keystone in Japanese history; it is synonymous with the spirit of Japan. I have heard that the actors in Last Samurai, including Ken Watanbe (who plays the Samurai, Katsumoto) studied Bushido to prepare for their roles and I will give further examples of less direct influences all over the spectrum in modern Japanese society.

Before I get too far, I will offer some background information. Bushido is basically an account of Samurai (Japanese feudal Knights, or bushi) culture and values, and a perspective on how they influenced the Japanese society through the end of the 19th century. The book written in English the late 1890s (not long after the abolition of the Samurai class), by a Christian, Japanese-born economist. The copy I borrowed was the tenth edition, revised and completed in the early 20th century, but there were two forewords and an introduction, which offered much help and explanation in the form of background information and placing the author’s motives and the information presented in context. The book has been translated to many languages, but I was utterly astonished by the competency of the author to eloquently relay such a delicate subject (describing the subtleties of morals and social rules in Japan to a Western audience) in this ‘borrowed tongue’ (Japanese was his first) and by what an accomplished scholar Nitobe seemed to be (especially well read). Over a century after it was first published, I think Bushido is still effective in helping to explain many of the delicate components of society that can be harder to understand, even with a lot of exposure to the culture.
Among the topics addressed that I found to best represent this idea, was the concept of “face,” which actually ties into other essential traits (like honor) and presumably has roots in Bushido. The attitude toward “losing face”, for example, seems to be less extreme today, but it is undoubtedly present. It helps explain why the concept of “face” (or losing it) is still so important, and why honor (and loyalty) strongly dictate things in daily life. Why don’t people show their emotions or reactions in emotional situations in public (again, a shame issue), and why can certain practices (or society in general?) seem so inclusive. What I took away from this reading is that repressing feelings, emotions and showing a strong demeanor in public was essential to the samurai culture. The books offers an example of how different the mindset was by western standards, stating that “in the West, men will kiss their wives in public and beat them in private, while in Japan [or in the Samurai culture], men will beat their wives in public and kiss them in private,” as to not show their affection to anyone. Furthermore, the author describes how these values were taught: children born into Samurai families had to go through excruciating tests of will and strength as part of their training in this school of thought. They would often be forced to stay up all night to build endurance. The book talks about how in the days when public executions were still legal in Japan, they would make young boys go to the place where the convicted had been beheaded, alone and in the middle of the night, and place their mark (probably stamp or seal) on the decapitated head to prove they had completed the task. Even when performing seppuku (suicide by disembowelment), they did not show emotion or signs of pain, and were careful to tuck the sleeves of their kimono under their knees so that they fell forward, in a clean, respectable manor, and did not appear to have experienced great pain.
While addressing the topic of shame and personal fiber, I should also mention that while a strong will was obviously important to the samurai culture, these practices or skills should not be confused with morals. Morals and religion also tie in closely, with Nitobe saying in a preface he would have written an additional chapter on piety, which would have further aided him in communicating this difficult concept. He never completed the addition, but it is important to understand that the religion practiced in Japan and in this culture was not Christianity, and thus the notion of (Christian) morality that we accept in the West differed greatly. I guess I would consider the topic of morals a paradoxical impact; a characteristic I feel is very present today. Consider, for example, my recent post about Lock Up. How crazy is it to go to such a wacky, modern eatery, only to step outside to see multiple ancient temples. Another example is why is there so much (accepted) pornography in this culture (including graphic manga – cartoon – porn that is deemed appropriate to be sold and read in public), or why does it seem accepted that the majority engages in sexual acts at what I would consider too young an age, yet it is still inappropriate to have a male, platonic friend from out-of-town stay at my apartment. What we consider morals in the West can be confused with values, but in Bushido, things like honor, loyalty and strength (of character or physical) might have overcome the concept.

Other lingering influences of Bushido in the present are the existence of a group-mentality (as a race), versus placing value on individualism, and the role of women. The book went beyond simply furthering the reader’s education on the social system in Feudal Japan (“Kuge –> Daimyo –> Samurai” class structure), actually offering explanations to reactions familiar to me from my interactions with coworkers during the short time I have been here (even uchiawase and enkai).
It is intriguing to me that Nitobe devotes an entire chapter to the position of women and their influence on (or how they are influenced by) Bushido. It is especially significant considering this book was written long before the suffrage or women’s liberation movement brought this topics to the forefront. I have written several times about the structure of society and status of women from my own observations and experiences, but the class system described in Bushido was actually much different. The Samurai were the warrior class at the top of the food chain, while the merchants (business, or even educated, people) were on the bottom of any societal ladder. They were found below farmers and metal workers, people considered to make real contributions to the daily workings of society. In the lower classes of society, including among the merchants, women held high – sometimes almost equal - positions to men. Conversely, it was the women in upper classes – the samurai class – that had a lower status, resembling what I would have expected from all levels of society. What rights the women of the upper echelon lacked, however, were in a way balanced by their responsibilities within the home and when the men left for battle. It was the women who were responsible for training their children, future Knights, in fighting and battle (especially how to use a sword) and it was the same women who were sometimes held accountable for defending their home if there were an attack while the men were away.

The book cites numerous references to historical events, literary works, and even linguistic comparisons (comparing Samurai mantra to those of he Knight class in certain European countries, for example) that added color to its purpose. It even goes so far – perhaps not surprisingly considering the author’s background – as to draw parallels to philosophy and economics (including citations to Nietzsche, Marx, Hegel, and Smith). The historical references also proved appealing for entertainment purposes as well. One of the men who authored an introduction to an early edition of the book mentions his witness to the launching of Perry’s (“black”) ships (for Japan) in Philadelphia, something that might make a Japanese history buff awe and drool over. Nitobe often refers to experts on the culture of Japan and then-modern references on Japanese culture, which opens more doors to further references on Japan and an introduction to how our judgments of pre-war Japan have changed.

In addition, the author specifically addresses the viewpoints and criticisms of many foreigners from the time (surprisingly similar to today). I know it might seem like I often pose a lot of (possibly negative) rhetorical questions when sharing thoughts or accounts of my life in Japan via my blog or emails, but these curiosities and inquiries (and/or lack of answers) do not always have a simple answer. This is a factor that many foreigners here form a common-bond over. Or maybe there are answers, but often not found on the surface, possibly buried so deep as within the historical concept of Bushido. Why else would a work written over 100 years ago remain so poignant and relevant today? It is history; perspectives might change, but facts and the imprints left in time do not. It’s like Shakespeare, in a sense (whose works are coincidentally frequently quoted in the book), who was able to so eloquently identify and relay the raw components of human nature and interactions that his works are virtually timeless.

Indeed, the book in some ways scatters more seeds than it does plant flowers. It left me pondering other aspects of my life here, and contemplating other potential powerful historical influences. Possibly in accord with my reactions, the author closes by conjuring up numerous questions about the future of Bushido, or the Samurai spirit, and its influence over the Japan of the future, rather than presenting hypothesis. Ironically, I think many of the author’s questions are answered in the mere fact that I, a foreigner to this culture and these ideals, can distinctly relate to the concepts of these theories and explanations over 100 years later. As Nitobe put it, Bushido “is a dead system, but it is alive as a virtue: it’s energy and vitality are still felt through the many channels of life” (153). I agree with Nitobe, that the Bushido spirit is still very much alive in the Japan of today, even if it is only in traces.
I had to give the book back to my coworker, but I think I am going to buy a copy for myself and read it again, possibly after I have been here a bit longer and learn a little more about the culture and language. I would definitely recommend it to any of my (foreign) counterparts and am a little more motivated to delve into more work on the culture of the Samurai (maybe starting with finally getting to the big, fat, bound beast that is Shogun, by James Clavell).

QUOTATIONS

Page 144
Our [Japanese] sense of honour is responsible for our exaggerated sensitiveness and touchiness; and if there is conceit in us with which some foreigners charge us, that, too, is a pathological outcome of honour.

Page 150
If history can teach us anything, the state built on martial values – be it a city like Sparta or an Empire like Rome – can never make on earth a “continuing city.” Universal and natural as is the fighting instinct in man, fruitful as it has proved to be of noble sentiments and manly virtues, it does not comprehend the whole man. Beneath the instinct to fight there lurks a diviner instinct – to love.

Page 152
Scratch a Japanese of the most advances ideas, and he will show a samurai.

Page 153
Like his Hebrew precursors, the prophets – notably Isaiah, Jeremiah, Amos, and Habakkuk – Bushido laid particular stress on the moral conduct of rulers and public men and of nations, whereas the ethics of Christ, which deal almost solely with individuals and His personal followers, will find more and more practical application as individualism, in its capacity of a moral factor, grows in potency.

Page 48
If love does not rush to deeds of virtue, recourse must be had to man’s intellect, and his reason must be quickened to convince him of the necessity of acting aright.

Page 27
Without losing the best in her own history and civilization, Japan, following her noble precedents, first adopted and then adapted the choicest the world had to offer.

Page 117 (footnote on the game of GO)
The game of GO is sometimes called Japanese checkers, but is much more intricate than the English game. The go-board contains 361 squares and is supposed to represent a battlefield – the object of the game being to occupy as much space as possible.

Page 129
But the question is: Is there a correct standard in comparing the relative social position of the sexes? Is it right, is it enough, to compare women’s status to man’s, as the value of silver is compared with that of gold, and give the ratio numerically? Such a method of calculation excludes from consideration the most important kind of value with a human being possesses, namely, the intrinsic. In view of the manifold variety if requisites for making each sex fulfill its earthly mission, the standard to be adopted in measuring its relative position must be of a composite character; or to borrow from economic language, it must be a multiple standard.

Page 142
No, as yet Christian missions have effected but little visible in molding the character of New Japan. No, it was Bushido, pure and simple, that urged us on for weal or woe. Open the biographies of the makers of Modern Japan – of Sakuma, of Saigo, of Okuto, of Kido not to mention the reminiscence of living men such as Ito, Okuma, Itagaki, etc., - and you will find that it was under the impetus of samuraihood that they thought and wrought.

Page 134
What Japan was she owed to the samurai. They were not only the flower of the nation, but its root as well. All the gracious gifts of heaven flowed through them. Though they kept themselves socially aloof from the populace, they set a moral standard for them and guided them by their example. I admit Bushido had its esoteric and exoteric teachings; these were eudemonic, looking after the welfare and happiness of the commonalty; those were aretaic, emphasizing the practice of virtues for their own sake.

Page 135
The samurai grew to be the beau ideal of the whole race. “As among flowers the cherry is queen, so among men the samurai is lord,” so sang the populace. Debarred from commercial pursuits, the military class itself did not aid commerce; but there was no channel of human activity, no avenue of thought, which did not receive in some measure an impetus from Bushido. Intellectual and moral Japan was directly oe indirectly the work of Knighthood.