창작과 비평

 

* This is a revised and expanded version of an essay originally presented at the international conference "Toward a New Global Civilization: The Role of the People and National/Regional Movements," which was held at Seoul National University on April 25, 1996, in commemoration of the 30th anniversary of Quarterly Changjak-kwa-Bipyong [Creation & Criticism; 創作과 批評]. The author extends his gratitude to all those who, publicly or privately, commented on the original essay. Written in Korean, the present revised version appeared in no. 94 (winter 1996) of the same publication also. [Translator's note]

 

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1996 is the year Py?ongja [丙子: Chinese Bingz i; Japanese Heish i] according to the traditional Oriental 60-year cycle calendar. The word "Py?ngja" immediately reminds me of many historical incidents and memories associated with that year. Mainly, it is a sense of crisis that the name of the year brings back. The mighty capital has all but erased most traces of such "tribal memory" nowadays. However, the last Py?ngja year, 1936, seems to have brought about a panic among the populace. There is an interesting scene in "My?ng'il" [Tomorrow; 明日], a short story by Ch'ae Man-sik [蔡萬植], which will illustrate this point. The humble wife of a day laborer says, "Folks say there's going to be a great confusion this year! . . . It's the year Py?ngja, isn't it? . . . Goodness gracious, we better move back to the country!" [1] Although this prognostication did not exactly come true, it nevertheless was no mere idle talk. The Second Sino-Japanese War, which eventually was to spark off the Pacific War (1941-1945), took place the following year. What then is the root of such vivid fear associated with the year Py?ngja? It may lie in the devastating Manchu Invasion of 1636 [2] and the forced opening of Korea through the Treaty of Kanghwa Island (or Treaty of Commerce of Friendship) at Japanese gunpoint in 1876, both Py?ngja years. Indeed, it was due to the second event, a fruit of Meiji Japan's gunboat diplomacy, that Korea, the "Hermit Kingdom," forcibly came to be incorporated into the world capitalist system. I would first like to muse on the fact that most of the great incidents which changed Korean history, directly or indirectly in conjunction with world history and amid some of the most turbulent years in East Asia, took place in Pyongja years.

 

The Manchu Invasion and the Modification of the Sinitic System

 

"Manchu Invasion" designates Qing (Manchu) China's attack on Chos?n-Dynasty Korea, which, led by Emperor Taizong himself with 100,000 troops under his command, took place in December 1636 (14th year of King Injo's reign). The ostensible pretext was to punish Chos?n for refusing to become a vassal state to the newly instated Qing Dynasty. The real motive, however, was to secure peace in the neighboring region before attacking the Ming Dynasty itself. The Chos?n court, after stubbornly but ineffectually holding out for the already declining Ming Dynasty in the name of loyalty, finally ended the war in the following January by surrendering to the Manchus. From then on, this short but humiliating war was to lie deep within the Korean psyche as a memory at best forgotten, one that would be much better if obliterated altogether.

 

Despite and because of a long history of foreign aggression, we also have an honorable tradition of voluntary "righteous armies" which would rise up in times of such invasions. For example, during the seven-year war (1592-1598) occasioned by Japan's attack, [3] the Korean people voluntarily rose up in arms throughout the country when the regular army fell. This in turn surprised the Japanese, who have no such heritage. Of course, it would be difficult to say that these righteous armies consisted solely of the populace. [4] ) As is known, the righteous armies active during the Japanese Invasion of 1592 "developed along a course where they were initially raised by prominent members of untitled provincial Confucian literati, then supported by their disciples and followers, finally to mobilize, in turn, these supporters' servants and local populace." In other words, these voluntary guerrilla forces were led primarily by members of the provincial aristocracy. Nevertheless, the two following facts should be enough to stress the fundamentally popular nature of these righteous armies: the untitled provincial Confucian literati were basically opposed to the meritorious subjects and conservative, titled court officials in the capital; and the populace fought against the Japanese invaders by joining these voluntary forces, not the government troops. At any rate, this righteous army tradition, coming back again and again as mass movements in times of national crisis up to today, is one of the rich sources of democracy in Korea. In the case of the Manchu Invasion of 1636, however, extant records hardly mention the existence or activities of these righteous armies. While this is partly due to the quick termination of the war, the main reason lay in the people's critical view of the war itself.

 

The court, whose unpreparedness and inflexible policies brought about the war, was then dominated by the S?in (Western) faction. This clique had come to power by getting rid of Prince Kwanghae and crowning King Injo. The deposed Prince Kwanghae possessed a sharp sense of reality thanks to his personal experience during the Japanese Invasion as a royal scion. With this perception, he had observed the rivalry between the Ming and Qing Dynasties in mainland China and had tried to maintain a diplomatic equilibrium between the two. The S?in regime, on the other hand, abolished the monarch's realistic line of diplomacy after dethroning him and returned to traditional nominalism. Of course, the court's indignation and shame at their recent defeat at the hands of the Manchus is understandable. As we all know, the Manchus were the Jurchens (Nurchens), a nomadic tribe originally from north of Korea. Successive dynasties of Korea had kept their northern borders safe by alternately pacifying and subduing the Manchus according to the situation. To have them suddenly grow in power and even demand tributes therefore must have been incredible to Koreans. We may term this the curious law of the steppes―once a national hero is born, a formerly weak tribe takes off all its pretense of obedience and overruns the once mighty Chinese empire. Perhaps the Soein faction desperately―but hopelessly―wished that they, by allying with the "civilized" Ming Dynasty, would be spared the fate of having to pay tributes to those northern "barbarians." Because of these factors, the populace could not view very kindly the war with the Manchus.

 

In Haebang Chonhu [ Before and After the Liberation; 解放 前後] (1946), a novella by Yi T'ae-jun [李泰俊], there is an interesting "theory" on the ingloriously ousted Prince Kwanghae:

 

"I see what you mean, sir. . . . [But s]ince you mention the importance of 'moral obligations', how about the case of Prince Kwanghae? Although we were aided by Ming China during the Japanese Invasion of 1592, didn't the Ming Dynasty request us for reinforcements when it in turn was beset by Emperor Taizong of the Qing Dynasty?"

"Indeed, that is when the doctrine of moral obligations was first begun in Korea."

 

"It being immediately after the Japanese Invasion, Korea had no ability whatsoever of helping the Ming and taking part in the battles. But court officials of the 'moral obligations' school believed that we could not simply watch with folded arms, even if participation in the war meant the fall of both Ming China and the Chos?n Dynasty. Others believed that, even if the nation were to be ruined and the king could no longer retain the crown, the populace, who had just gone through so much hardship at the hands of the Japanese invaders, could not be subjected to yet another tribulation. And wasn't Prince Kwanghae of this latter persuasion, adhering to it even at the cost of his own throne? In my opinion, Prince Kwanghae, who stood by his conviction that the populace could not be a pawn between the monarch and court officials, even to the extent of relinquishing his kingship, was far greater than his ministers, who cared only about those 'moral obligations' of theirs and had no regard whatsoever for the populace. Indeed, he was the true leader. . . ." [5]

 

Prior to the Liberation, [6] Hy?n, the protagonist, and Kim, an elderly functionary in the now-defunct local Confucian public school, were united in their anti-Japanese sentiments. In the memorable debate above, which takes place after Japan's defeat, however, they disagree, one urging cooperation between leftists and rightists and the other supporting only the now-repatriated Korean Provisional Government. [7] It is interesting to see the case of Prince Kwanghae being used here to back the former stance. This in turn leads us to the realization that, following the Manchu Invasion, the ideologization of jingoistic anti-Qing sentiments based on the Confucian doctrine of moral obligations was itself caused by a strong sense of otherness or difference held by the ruling class vis-a-vis the masses' criticism of the war.

 

What then of the fate of the Chos?n Dynasty itself after the humiliating Manchu Invasion, during which the ruling class displayed their incapability as never before? Following this war, there were great changes in the East Asian order: in Japan, the Tokugawa Shogunate emerged; in China, the Qing Dynasty replaced the Ming. The Chos?n Dynasty in Korea, on the other hand, stood firm even after two devastating wars. Why did this happen? Hatada Takashi [旗田巍] offers an interesting opinion:

 

Even though liberation from foreign oppression was always necessary to the development of Korea, that alone was not enough. . . . For example, Korea never developed to any great extent even after the Hideyoshi invasion [of 1592]. This, of course, is due to the degree of sheer devastation and the difficulty of recovery, but only partly so. . . . Liberation from foreign oppression was helpful only when it went hand in hand with a similar one within Korea. [8]

 

The above statement, however, seems to apply more to the Manchu Invasion than to the Japanese one. As I have already pointed out, the rise and activities of righteous armies during the conflict of 1592 unexpectedly empowered the populace of Korea. After the war, the ruling class of course sought to reestablish the ruling order by oppressing this newly awakened strength in the people; a task, however, that could not have been very easy. The Coup d'Etat of 1623, which overthrew both Prince Kwanghae and his realistic reforms, may perhaps be read as a telling sign of the crisis. In this respect, the Manchu Invasion was decisive. By going through the Manchu Invasion, Chos?n miraculously revived, escaping the crises that Japan and China were experiencing: the fall of the Hideyoshi regime and of the Ming Dynasty. If you let me stretch my imagination a bit farther, it may even be possible to say that the S?in faction was gambling in choosing to go to war with the Manchus. This is comparable to the ethnic Han ruling class of Ming China who, in order to secure their privileged status, collaborated with the foreign Manchus instead of Li Zi-cheng, a fellow Chinese rebel; and to Japanese fascists, who started and continued to expand a war, even at the cost of defeat, in order to prevent a socialist revolution at home.

It may then be possible to view all this as one long war―stretching from the complex Japanese Invasion of 1592, which involved the Ming and Qing Dynasties of China, the Chos?n Dynasty, and Japan on Korean soil, to the Manchu Invasion of 1636. In other words, this protracted war is comparable to the Thirty Years' War, which began in 1618 and pushed German history back by 200 years.

 

It was the Thirty Years' War which, by destroying the most crucial parts of agricultural production and countless cities at the same time, lowered the living standards of peasants, the poor, and city dwellers down to the lowest level of Ireland. [9]

 

These large-scale wars, which broke out almost simultaneously in East Asia and Europe, recall the so-called theory of general crisis in the 17th century. [10] As the sole victors in the Thirty Years' War were the feudal lords, the only victor in the Japanese and Manchu Invasions was the rigid political structure of Chos?n. This not only proved to be unfortunate for Korea but, in turn, was to harm East Asia as a whole. But, at this point, it must be remembered that China and Japan thus played a role in shaping history.

On the other hand, Manchu rule over China continued until the Republican Revolution of 1911. This actually limited China's own independent road to modernization amid the rapid development of capitalism in the West. Giving up ethnic distinctions, the Qing Dynasty accepted anyone as "Chinese" as long as he upheld Chinese traditions and institutions. In short, by quickly relinquishing their nomadic roots and adopting Chinese ways, the Manchus successfully changed their image and thus were able to rule China effectively. This stands at a marked contrast to the Mongol rulers of China (Yuan Dynasty), who had stressed their ethnic and cultural roots far more than the Manchus. As a result, the Manchus were able to win over Han Chinese intellectuals, thus effectively ruling China through a dual Han-Manchu system. However, it is interesting that this Manchu effectiveness was to be the eventual downfall of traditional China.

 

In studying their achievement, however, we cannot help wondering to what extent their very success in maintaining traditional order may have been a factor in its later collapse. So great was the prestige of the old order, so steady the balance which had been maintained among its various parts, that radical, thoroughgoing change of Chinese institutions and values could not easily be imagined―least of all by Manchu rulers who had taken over the whole imperial system intact from their Ming predecessors. The Manchus were successful as inheritors, not innovators. [11]

 

What would have happened had the Qing Dynasty reformed, even thoroughly deconstructed, the Sinitic system instead of inheriting it? The whole of East Asia then would have developed in an interesting direction. In particular, the Choseon government's strange equilibrium between obedience to and revenge upon Qing China, which helped to maintain the reestablished regime, would have been difficult.

Nevertheless, Manchu rule over China was to bring about subtle changes abroad as well. That a group of peripheral nomads had destroyed the Ming Dynasty, the last legitimate inheritor of the Chinese tradition, was a shocking event; consequently, the East Asian Sinitic order began to crack. Chos?n, by continuing to use Ming-Dynasty reign-years, secretly boasted its status as the "true" inheritor of the Chinese civilization while, on the surface, paying tributes to the Qing Dynasty. The same phenomenon occurred in Japan and Vietnam as well. This is positive because it signifies the disintegration of a universal medieval order and the emergence, however perverted, of a separate and nationalist awareness. It must be remembered too, however, that this sense of anti-Qing "Chineseness" acted as a defense ideology which tended to clamp down on reforms and changes within the respective nations. Consequently, China, Japan, and Korea began to pursue even more rigorous isolationism from this point on, shutting out relations to all but the ruling class of one another. [12] This resulted in the three nations' subsequent loss of flexibility in dealing with Western capitalism. The fact that such isolationism was fanned by the two wars which had taken place on Korean soil reconfirms how harmful they were, not only to Korea herself but to China and Japan as well.

 

In this context, Crown Prince Sohy?n (1612-1645), the precocious pro-Western reformist, is an interesting figure. His short but brilliant life was not unlike that of Prince Kwanghae. The heir apparent was taken to Manchuria as a hostage following Korea's humiliating defeat in the Manchu Invasion. Against the expectations of King Injo and the rigid ruling class, however, he returned a realist bent on reforming Korea instead of revenging himself on the Manchus.

 

An especially noteworthy feature of the royal scion's hostage years is that he associated with Johannes Adam Schall von Bell [Chinese Tang Ruo-wang ; 湯若望], a Jesuit missionary, in Beijing in 1644. Posted to China in 1622 as a replacement for Matteo Ricci [Chinese Li Ma-dou ; 利瑪竇], Schall von Bell was an adept astronomer of German extract. Moreover, he possessed enough political acumen to switch his allegiance quickly to the newly established Qing Dynasty once the Ming fell. Indeed, the dynastic transition that took place in mainland China in 1644 was a dramatic incident full of reversals. When rebel troops, led by Li, captured Beijing, Emperor Yizong committed suicide, thereby ending the 300-year-long history of the Ming Dynasty. However, these Han Chinese rebels were immediately attacked by the Later Jin (Qing) troops, which swept down all the way from Manchuria under the leadership of Wu San-gui, a former Ming army general who had surrendered to the northern nomads. Li lost and the whole of China was now in the hands of the Manchus. On September 19, 1644, Emperor Shizu of the Qing Dynasty marched into Beijing. A few days later, Crown Prince Sohy n too left Shenyang (Mukden), his residence-in-exile, and arrived in the new capital of the Manchu Dynasty, at last to be granted permission for return to Korea. This would mean that his stay in Beijing amounted to no more than 70 days. [13] What would have this lone prisoner from a small kingdom dreamed of in the historic moment of the reunification of the Chinese landmass by the Qing Dynasty after large-scale battles? During those 70 days in Beijing, the Korean heir apparent was captivated by Western science, thanks to Schall von Bell. When, in a bid to convert Chos n to the Catholic faith effortlessly, the Jesuit missionary sent sacred objects and scientific texts and equipments as farewell gifts, the wise Crown Prince politely returned the religious objects and only took the scientific equipments and books home:

 

I intend not only to introduce them [scientific equipments and texts] to the court but also to publish and spread them to learned men upon returning to my kingdom. Before long, then, men of learning will be grateful for the blessing of thus being led from a desert to the palace of erudition; my people too will come to realize that this has been made possible by Western science. [14]

 

The passage above is an excerpt from the letter that Crown Prince Sohy?n, returning to Chos?n after 8 years of captivity, sent to Schall von Bell upon receiving Western science books and equipments as farewell gifts. There of course is the Korean heir apparent's limitation in not fully realizing the true nature of the Society of Jesus. Nevertheless, his precocious dream of breaking through the suffocating rigidity of the Sinitic system and becoming Westernized is simply beautiful. This dream of becoming free from the specter of East Asia and entering "the palace of erudition [ le palais de l' rudition ]," however, was shattered by the royal scion's still unresolved death only 2 months after homecoming. [15] It is indeed ironic that his unrealized dream should have returned in the debased form of the blind pursuit of things Western, which has been pervasive since the Meiji Restoration (1868).

 

The Treaty of Kanghwa Island and the Japanese Challenge Against the Sinitic System

 

240 years after the outbreak of the Manchu Invasion, the Treaty of Kanghwa Island was signed between Chos?n and Meiji Japan in 1876, yet another Py?ngja year. Even though the treaty outwardly announced that "Chos?n, as an independent nation, enjoys rights equal to those of Japan" [朝鮮國自主之邦 與日本國 保有平等之權], it was a typically unequal one. Moreover, it was brought about by the so-called Uny? Incident (1875), in which Japanese warships attacked Korean guards and civilians. Japan was assiduously applying her own experience of signing unequal treaties with the West ever since having been forcibly opened up at Commodore Perry's gunpoint (1854).

By thus opening herself up to the world through the Treaty of Kanghwa Island, Korea completed the chain of world markets. Indeed, Korea was the last nation to join the global capitalist market, already having repulsed Western attempts at opening her up: she had defeated the French naval fleet in 1866 (Foreign Disturbance of 1866); burned down the General Sherman , an armed American merchant ship, in the same year; and had fought against American troops on Kanghwa Island in 1871 (Foreign Disturbance of 1871). It is odd then that Korea should have been finally opened up not by a Western power but by Japan, a nation which Koreans have traditionally looked down on as "barbaric." In fact, there was hardly a country opened up by a non-Western power outside the West.

Why did Chos?n, which had stubbornly ignored the West's demands that she open her ports, succumb so easily to Japan? Of course, the fact that the West, with Japan as its proxy, incorporated Korea into the world capitalist system in turn attests to the degree of Koreans' will to oppose any efforts at infiltration. What most contributed to this, however, was the changes in the political situation within Korea resulting from the fall of Grand Regent H?ngs?n (Yi Ha-?ng [李昰應]) from power (1864-1873). It was he who had boldly fought against French and American attempts at intrusion. The rise and fall of the Grand Regent's regime therefore cannot be considered separately from the overall threat of Western capitalism then encroaching on East Asia. The Franco-British capture of Beijing (1860) greatly shocked not only China herself but also Korea and Japan, both of which were still within the Sinitic system. The ensuing sense of crisis probably enabled the Grand Regent to assume political power under the banner of "Protect Orthodoxy and Reject Heterodoxy" and govern more or less effectively. Such attempt at blocking out Western capitalism by partly reforming a medieval system, however, was destined to fail. It may be possible to say that, in the moments of victory over Western encroachments in 1868 and 1871, the seeds of the Grand Regent's fall were sown. In addition, the Meiji Restoration, which was a case of successful political reform―whether it was for better or for worse―resulting from the sense of crisis raised by the Chinese situation, may also have contributed to the fall of the Grand Regent. Pak Kyu-su [朴珪壽], the erstwhile governor of P'y?ng'yang who had contributed to the defeat of the General Sherman , actually played an active role in the signing of the Treaty of Kanghwa Island. As we can see from this fact, political reform through opening up to the world was in fact becoming a possible and major option. From now on, the winds would blow from Japan, not China.

Let us here go back to our question. Even with the fall of the Grand Regent and even with Qing China's implicit recommendation for the peaceful signing of the Treaty of Kanghwa Island (for she feared any armed conflict in East Asia, which could result in unwanted Western interference), [16] why did Korea, so strongly against opening up [17] to the West, open her doors so easily to Japan? To the Grand Regent and those against opening up, the Korean government confirmed that the Treaty of Kanghwa Island would only be a "continuation of established relations" and that the "Western barbarians" would be closed off. Of course, it is possible to condemn such a logic, one that differentiates between Japan and the West, as an "ineffective excuse to those against opening up" on the government's part. I, however, prefer a more active interpretation. The expectation that the successful Japan, despite apprehensions, would provide lessons and tips on how to deal with the West and, at the same time, retain national independence and even go on to reform the system may have underlain the fact that Korea sought to renew traditional diplomatic relations with her eastern neighbor. However, to quote Sun Yat-sen (Sun Wen [孫文]), Japan became no "zenith of Oriental statecraft" but a "running dog of Western expansionism," a proxy or subordinate partner to the expansion of Western capitalism. Although Fukuzawa Yukichi [福澤諭吉] clamored that Japan should block out "bad friends of the East," it is indeed ironic that the supposed friend should have turned out to be the enemy. But, after all, no one can be blamed. We can only regret the ineffectuality of the Korean government.

In this respect, a remark by Ch'oe Ik-hy?n [崔益鉉] (style: My?nam [勉庵]) of the "Protect Orthodoxy and Reject Heterodoxy" school that Japan and the West were one and the same thing rings true. [18] He stressed that the signing of the Treaty of Kanghwa Island could never be a "continuation of established relations" because the encroaching Japanese, now in Western suits and armed with Western arms and steering Western vessels, were not the "Japanese barbarians" of the past but already Westernized "beasts." The term "beasts" here is none but a curse from a member of the "Protect Orthodoxy and Reject Heterodoxy" school directed at modern capitalism. Indeed, despite the stifling isolationism underneath, Ch'oe must be acknowledged for his astuteness in thus distinguishing the Japan of post-Meiji Restoration from that of the past. In addition, judging from his remark, there must have been arguments likening the Treaty of Kanghwa to the Manchu Invasion of 1636 in some quarters. Just as the relations between Korea and Qing China had actually stabilized after the signing of a peace treaty, some speculated that a similar treaty signed with Japan―i. e., the Treaty of Kanghwa Island―would bring about the same benefits. Regarding this argument, however, Ch'oe strictly differentiated between the Manchus, who were but "barbarians" in the medieval sense, and the Meiji government on the basis of his theory of "beasts" mentioned above. In other words, he was aware that the Japanese who had appeared in the sea in front of Inch'eon in 1876 were different from the Japanese pirates who had plagued Korean shores on countless occasions before the modern era.

Indeed, the "new" Japanese went directly against Koreans' half-apprehensive expectations and blatantly proved themselves to be "beasts." Belatedly realizing this, the Chos?n government then tried in vain to check both Japan and Qing China by signing treaties with the United States, Great Britain, Germany, and other Western nations in 1882 (19th year of King Kojong's reign). This, however, once again proved to be a misjudgement, for the West, in particular the United States and Great Britain, had actually trained Japan as their "police dog" by encouraging her to invade Korea and China. Nor was this limited to the West, as Russia's double-sided strategy regarding the First Sino-Japanese War (1894) shows. In fact, Russia understood this war as something she herself had "incited by using Japan as the instrument". [19] Her aim was to "rid Korea of Chinese feudal warlords by instigating Japan to attack China while appearing to appease the latter and, moreover, to accomplish [her] intention of invading the Korean Peninsula and northeastern China while both Japan and China [we]re exhausted from the war." [20] Contrary to Russian expectations, however, Qing China lost the war all too soon and the traditional Sinitic system, which hitherto had maintained international order in East Asia, crumbled. As Engels had predicted in his letter, the First Sino-Japanese War brought about "the complete disintegration of all traditional systems in old China [ der vollige Zusammenbruch des ganzen traditionellen Systems im alten China ]." What would have happened had Japan thoroughly disintegrated the Sinitic system and considered in earnest her role as the builder of a new order that would bring fundamental peace to East Asia on the basis of a theory of genuine solidarity in Asia? But Japan threw away this golden opportunity herself. Nor is it necessary to repeat here how her continued attempt to supplant the Sinitic system and become the master of Asia resulted in a global catastrophe. This in turn proves that the Korean Peninsula is one of the most sensitive and difficult locations in terms of the contradictions in world history, and we can say that the nature of the Meiji Restoration is implicated here.

While I have no wish to eulogize the Meiji Restoration as the standard model of modernization outside the West, nor do I wish to downplay its importance. We must turn our eyes to the fact that, although the Restoration was initiated by the government, top-down, some 30,000 people met their political deaths in the process. [21] Also, we must pay attention to the fact that, "positively or otherwise, the Meiji Restoration [was] the only example of a fundamental national reform throughout the history of Japan." [22] That the Restoration succeeded despite strong opposition from the old order and Western threats is surprising. When we recall that the Coup d'Etat of 1884 in Korea and the Coup d'Etat of 1898 in China, both of which were reforms modeled on the Meiji Restoration, failed, Takeuchi Yoshimi's [竹內好] comment that the Restoration―whose process continued until the second decade of the Meiji era, with countless reversals―was more important than the nation which it created is significant.

Why then did Japan, which had accomplished such a difficult task, come to invade Asia? Here lies the fundamental problem of the Meiji Restoration. The main force behind this reform came from the opposing aristocracy, who had almost no ties with the bourgeoisie that emerged at the end of the Shogunate. This naturally brought about a tendency toward nationalism, against "the dissolution of the empire," from early on―nay, from the very beginning. As a result, these aristocrats discovered themselves in a contradiction of "refusing to rely on the populace, who ardently wished to be freed from feudalism . . . and seeking to improve their position through a compromise with feudal lords." [23] Such an anti-democratic spirit within coincides with the invasion of Asia without. As Yoshida Sh in [吉田松蔭] said, "the tragedy of Japan possessed of only an anti-Asian mentality and no awareness of herself as a 'member of Asia'" [24] was thus born.

The so-called theory of conquering Korea is especially notorious. Although it was clearly advanced by Saig Takamori [西鄕隆盛] upon the Choseon government's closure of the official Japanese residence on her soil in 1873, this idea can be traced to the last years of the Shogunate. Cornered by both Western pressure and anti-Western factions, the Shogunate found its breakthrough, quite suddenly in the early 1860's, in the idea of conquering Korea. In other words, it sought to reestablish its dictatorship by channeling antagonistic fiefs' military power abroad. [25] What must be noted here, however, is the fact that the Meiji government almost wholly inherited the theory of conquering Korea, which had been formulated as the Shogunate's defense ideology. When we consider that, by nature, domination over domestic politics was directly related to the establishment of military authority in the Meiji state, it becomes obvious that power struggle among the ruling class cannot but be linked to the question of which party takes the initiative in the encroachment on Korea. Saig? 's theory of conquering Chos?n was thwarted by Iwakura Tomomi [岩倉具視] in 1873, something that had been quite foreseeable. However, this of course does not mean that Iwakura was fundamentally against the idea of conquering Kor