Tag: Wako pirates

  • Peace? I hate the word…

    Peace? I hate the word…

    By the end of the 14th Century, the Ashikaga Shogunate might have been forgiven for thinking it was in a strong position. Under Shogun Yoshimitsu, Kyushu had been pacified, the power of the mighty clans close to the capital had been curtailed, and in 1392, a reconciliation had been arranged between the Northern and Southern Imperial Courts, bringing an end to the Nanbokucho Period.

    In 1395, Yoshimitsu officially retired from the Shogunate to become a monk, and although he retained actual power, the succession of his son, Yoshimochi, was secure. Then, in 1399, the Ouchi Clan rose in rebellion in Kyushu, and in crushing them, the Ashikaga Shoguns no longer faced any serious opposition in the South or West of the realm.

    Around this time, Yoshimitsu sought recognition as “King of Japan” from the Ming Emperor of China, as he had long been an admirer of Chinese culture and politics. Initially, the Chinese refused to recognise him, because, as Shogun, Yoshimitsu was (technically) a servant of the Emperor, whom the Chinese were more inclined to recognise as King.

    When Yoshimitsu retired as Shogun, however, he retained all the power of his position, but was now free of his position as a subordinate of the Emperor. This, combined with a promise to suppress the often serious problem of piracy (wako) in the waters around Korea, persuaded the Chinese to formally recognise Yoshimitsu as “King” and restart trade between Japan and China, in exchange for regular Japanese tribute as ‘subordinates’ to the Ming.

    This trade was not as we might imagine it, where merchants buy and sell according to the laws of supply and demand. Instead, as the Chinese viewed themselves as the centre of the world, they viewed trade as being based on tribute to their Emperor, with gifts being bestowed in return.

    The Yongle Emperor, who all were expected to bow to, especially if they wanted to trade with China.

    This worldview, combined with the Chinese desire to show off their wealth, meant that Japanese trade missions would often end up with such quantities of goods that they were able to secure enormous profits. One example comes from the merchant, Kusuba Sainin, who claimed that thread purchased for 250 mon in China could easily be sold for 5000 mon back in Japan.

    (The mon is a Japanese unit of currency that wasn’t very well formalised before the Edo Period, making modern purchasing power hard to figure out, but the fact that this represents around 2000% profit gives you an idea of how lucrative this trade could be.)

    These ships were only sent relatively infrequently; in fact, between 1404 and 1547, only 17 trade missions (made up of 84 ships in total) were sent, but the influx of Chinese material and cultural goods, and the Shogunate’s 10% levy on all goods arriving in Japan, meant that it was a major source of revenue and prestige.

    The trade was politically unpopular, however. The Chinese required tribute and acknowledgement of China’s supreme position in the world. Though Yoshimitsu likely viewed this as a diplomatic nicety rather than an actual submission, it didn’t sit right with the prideful Samurai or the Imperial Court, who held that their Emperor was a literal son of heaven, whereas the Chinese Emperor held a mandate that could be lost.

    While Yoshimitsu was alive and politically active, these concerns were largely kept private, but the discontent remained, and Yoshimitsu, it may surprise you to learn, wasn’t going to live forever.

    While he lived, however, Yoshimitsu invested this newfound wealth and power in what became known as Kitayama Culture. A unique blend of Imperial, Samurai, and Chinese aesthetics, it gave birth to many famous aspects of Japanese culture that are still recognisable, such as Noh Theatre and even Origami (which began as a much more formalised system than what we may be used to today).

    Like many before and after him, Yoshimitsu also invested heavily in architecture, aiming to promote the glory and prestige of his family through buildings that were more spectacular than any that came before. Most famously, the Golden Pavilion Temple, Kinkaku-ji, a landmark so famous that the actual name for the temple, the pavilion, is in (Rokuon-ji), is often forgotten.

    The Golden Pavilion in Kyoto, so famous that its name is synonymous with Japanese temples the world over.
    By Jaycangel – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=33554210

    As we discussed last time, Yoshimitsu had an unusually close relationship with the Imperial Court, taking up several positions in the Imperial Government, and running things in such a way that it often became unclear exactly when Imperial orders weren’t simply Shogunate ones.

    This came to something of a logical conclusion in 1404 when Yoshimitsu began lobbying for the position of Retired Emperor. You may recall that, in the days before the Shoguns, Emperors would retire to become insei, or Cloistered Emperors, retaining all the actual power, whilst no longer being constrained by the often burdensome nature of an Emperor’s religious responsibilities.

    In the midst of this politicking, in April 1408, Yoshimitsu became ill, dying at the age of 51 in May of the same year. A few days after his passing, the Imperial Court offered to bestow the title of Retired Emperor on him posthumously; however, the new Shogun, Yoshimochi, declined. It has been speculated that this was agreed to previously, as a way to definitely end the Shogunate’s pretensions to the title.

    Either way, Yoshimitsu was dead, and things began to unravel quite quickly. Though Yoshimochi had been named Shogun in 1394, when his father had ‘retired’, his actual accession to the title didn’t go unchallenged. Some suggested that Yoshimitsu had actually preferred his younger son for the role, but had died before updating his will.

    Because of this, the Shogun’s Deputy (kanrei), Shiba Yoshimasa (of the once powerful, and now resurgent Shiba Clan), pushed to have Yoshimochi recognised as Shogun, and in the short term, a crisis was avoided.

    Shiba Yoshimasa had been a powerful figure in the Shogunate for decades, and he had a huge influence over the new Shogun. However, by the time Yoshimochi actually gained power, Yoshimasa was an old man, and in August 1409, he handed the position of Kanrei over to his grandson. The fact that he was a boy of 11 was apparently not a problem, given that Yoshimasa intended to keep real power anyway.

    Whether or not he meant to groom his grandson for the role is unclear, because less than a year later, Yoshimasa was dead and the power of the Shiba Clan at the centre of government was at an end.

    Ashikaga Yoshimochi, the Fourth Shogun, and very much not his father’s son.

    Unfortunately for the Ashikaga, Yoshimochi turned out not to be his father’s son. No longer under Yoshimasa’s influence, he ended the Chinese trade in 1411 (it would be reinstated later), and in 1415, he faced a serious uprising from loyalists of the former Southern Court, showing that that particular problem had not been resolved.

    More seriously, in 1416, a major rebellion broke out in the Kanto Region, when the locally powerful Uesugi Clan rose up against the Kamakura Kubo, the semi-autonomous military governor in the region.

    Now, this is a bit complex, so pay attention. The Kamakura Kubo had, since the formation of the Ashikaga Shogunate, been in the hands of a branch of the Ashikaga Family, descended from one of the sons of the first Ashikaga Shogun, Takauji. Therefore, as with a lot of Japanese history it was possible to have Ashikaga on both sides of any conflict, going forwards I’ll make sure to be clear which branch of the family I’m talking about, but it’s a bit of headache.

    Confused genealogy aside, the Kubo was, much like their cousins in Kyoto, surrounded by Samurai Clans who were often stronger than the local government. In the Kanto, the most powerful family was the aforementioned Uesugi, and they’d been a real thorn in the side of the Kamakura Ashikaga from the start.

    The Uesugi had often held the title of Kanto Kanrei, which is basically the Shogun’s Deputy in the Kanto Region, in which Kamakura lies. Unsurprisingly, the Kamakura Ashikaga and the Uesugi spent most of their time butting heads, and in 1415, a particularly serious disagreement led to the Uesugi being stripped of the kanrei position.

    You can probably guess what happened next. The Uesugi refused to accept that, and one thing led to another until in late 1416, they rose in rebellion, taking Kamakura in October. Confused reports reached Kyoto later in the month, some of which suggested that the Kamakura Kubo, Mochiuji, was already dead.

    When it became clear that he was, in fact, alive, the Shogun dispatched an army made up of loyal clans to the Kanto to put the rebellion down. This they did, and the Uesugi forces were decisively defeated at the Battle of Seyahara in January 1417, after which their power was severely curtailed.

    In the aftermath, Shogun Yoshimochi accused his brother, Yoshitsugu (who had been that potential rival to the throne we mentioned earlier), of being complicit in, or even behind the rebellion. Yoshitsugu pleaded his innocence (as you do), but, fearing for his life, fled the capital and became a monk.

    Ashikaga Yoshitsugu, who was accused of plotting rebellion by his brother, and killed in 1418.

    That didn’t save him, and in 1418, he either committed suicide or was murdered on his brother’s orders. The man accused of his assassination was later denounced for apparently having an affair with one of the Shogun’s concubines and killed himself, which is just one of those salacious side stories that make studying history such a joy.

    The seeds of more trouble in the Kanto were sown when Mochiuji pursued a policy of revenge against those who had rebelled, despite the Shogun’s official desire for reconciliation. Direct conflict would be a while in coming, but the increasingly defiant Kanto Lords could not be ignored forever.

    Sources

    https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E8%B6%B3%E5%88%A9%E7%BE%A9%E5%97%A3
    https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E5%8C%97%E5%B1%B1%E6%96%87%E5%8C%96
    https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E6%97%A5%E6%98%8E%E8%B2%BF%E6%98%93
    https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E6%A5%A0%E8%91%89%E8%A5%BF%E5%BF%8D
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kinkaku-ji
    https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E8%B6%B3%E5%88%A9%E7%BE%A9%E6%8C%81
    https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E4%B8%8A%E6%9D%89%E7%A6%85%E7%A7%80%E3%81%AE%E4%B9%B1
    https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E8%B6%B3%E5%88%A9%E6%8C%81%E6%B0%8F#%E5%AE%98%E6%AD%B4
    https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E6%96%AF%E6%B3%A2%E7%BE%A9%E5%B0%86#%E7%AE%A1%E9%A0%98%E5%B0%B1%E4%BB%BB%E3%81%A8%E5%A4%B1%E8%84%9A
    https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E9%81%A3%E6%98%8E%E8%88%B9

  • Kamakura IV – You can’t invade Japan…

    “…unless you’re the Mongols…” – John Green, Crash Course World History

    By the 1260s, the Mongol Empire was the most powerful state the world had ever seen. Throughout the 13th century, united under their leader, Genghis Khan and his heirs, the Mongols had conquered everything from China to Poland, sweeping aside any who opposed them, and spreading Mongol law and customs across Asia and into Eastern Europe.

    In 1260, Kublai was elected as Great Khan. The grandson of Genghis, he had established the base at Khanbaliq, in modern Beijing, would go on to declare himself Emperor of China in 1271 (establishing the Yuan Dynasty), and took part in the subjugation of Korea, which had only finally submitted (and even then, as only a vassal) in 1259.

    Kublai Khan, Great Khan, Emperor of China, and would-be conqueror of Japan.

    Though China would not be completely subjugated until 1279, the Mongol position in Asia was strong enough that Kublai could turn his eyes elsewhere in search of new conquests. Japan presented a unique challenge; though Mongol armies were dominant on land, they had relatively little power at sea, and Japan, as an island nation, presented an opportunity to enhance Mongol prestige, but came with considerable risk.

    At first, Kublai tried to get the Japanese to submit without a fight. In 1266, he sent an embassy with a letter inviting the Japanese to send tribute. The embassy was turned away without even delivering its letter. Kublai, apparently not believing that a Mongol embassy would be treated so disrespectfully, sent another mission which met with similar stonewalling.

    In 1269, Kublai sent a third mission, this time to the island of Tsushima, demanding to know why there had been no response to his earlier letters. At this point, the Imperial court in Kyoto got nervous and suggested that it might be better to deal with the Mongols diplomatically. However, the Hojo Regents in Kamakura rejected this approach; a letter was apparently drafted, but evidently never sent.

    The Mongol Cometh.

    Several more attempts at diplomacy were made, but all came to nothing. The Shogunate seems to have taken the threat of invasion seriously as early as 1268, though, and began preparing defences. In China, the first serious preparations weren’t made until 1274, when Kublai and the Mongols(more correctly, the Yuan Dynasty at this point) began the mobilisation of troops, ships and supplies.

    The first invasion force made landfall on the island of Tsushima in November 1274, but it’s not entirely clear how big the opposing forces were. As is common with these things, the numbers vary wildly, with Chinese sources saying the Japanese have over 100,000 warriors, whilst the Japanese claim to have been outnumbered 10 to 1, both of which are clearly exaggerations.

    Most scholars put the total Mongol forces at around 30,000 (including sailors), but what is certain is that they quickly conquered Tsushima and nearby Iki Island, using them as a base for stage two of their plan. Mongol forces (around 6000) landed at Hakata Bay, in modern Fukuoka, on November 19th.

    Here we see the mismatch in fighting styles between the Mongols and Japanese. The Japanese tried to fight in their own way, with individuals announcing themselves and seeking challengers from the opposing side until one side overcame the other. The Mongols, however, fought as units, not individuals, and they made use of early gunpowder weapons, like primitive hand grenades, which terrified the Japanese and their horses and disrupted their tactics.

    “According to our manner of fighting, we must first call out by name someone from the enemy ranks, and then attack in single combat. But they (the Mongols) took no notice at all of such conventions; they rushed forward all together in a mass, grappling with any individuals they could catch and killing them.” – Hachiman Gudokan

    The Japanese fought bravely, but were outmatched by Mongolian tactics and gunpowder weapons.

    The fighting was brief and badly organised, and though the Mongols were able to drive the Japanese back and even burn Hakata, they made no further progress. Overnight, apparently fearing a Japanese counterattack, the Mongols retreated to their ships, and by the next morning, they were gone.

    Japanese sources say that unfavourable winds blew the Mongol fleet back out to sea, whilst Chinese sources make reference to a storm that scattered the fleet either in Hakata Bay or when it was on its way back to Korea.

    Either way, the first Mongol invasion was over. There are no reliable accounts of Japanese losses, though they appear to have been heavy, especially on Tsushima, where the Mongols killed and burned everything before them. As for the Mongols, they may have lost up to half their forces, though again, the sources aren’t entirely clear.

    Scholars disagree about whether this first ‘invasion’ was an actual attempt to conquer territory in Japan, or was instead a reconnaissance in force, designed to test the fighting abilities of the Japanese before a major effort was launched.

    The Empire Strikes Back

    The Japanese at the time certainly believed that the Mongols would be back, and as soon as the last invader disappeared, preparations were made for their return. Potential landing sites in Kyushu were fortified with castles, and stakes were driven into river beds, and at Hakata, a 2-meter wall, the Genko Borui, was built to prevent a second sacking of the city.

    For his part, Kublai made another attempt at diplomacy and dispatched another embassy, which had orders to refuse to leave until an answer was received. They certainly got an answer when the regent of the day, Hojo Tokimune, had them beheaded. Their graves can still be seen at Joryu-ji Temple in Fujisawa.

    The stele marking the graves of the envoys, in Fujisawa.
    By kamakura – Self-photographed, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3082856

    Another embassy was sent in July 1279 and met the same fate, this time at Hakata, and in 1280, Kublai gathered his men, and together they made plans for a second invasion of Japan.

    By this time, China had been fully conquered, and using his newly acquired resources, Kublai was able to amass more than 1500 ships, and 100,000 men, with a further 40,000 in Korea. These numbers are probably exaggerated, but it does go some way towards showing how large the invasion was when compared to the first.

    The Mongol forces were divided into two: the Eastern and the Southern Army. The Eastern Army landed on Tsushima again in June, and once again, the island and nearby Iki Island were quickly conquered. The Eastern Army was supposed to wait for the Southern Army, but its commanders instead attacked Kyushu directly, landing at Hakata and nearby Nagato Province (in modern Yamaguchi Prefecture).

    The attack in Nagato was a failure, and the one at Hakata ran into the wall that had been built for that purpose. The Japanese had learned their lesson; they no longer sought out individual battles with the Mongols, instead remaining behind their defences and driving the invaders back with their bows (the preferred weapon of the Samurai at the time).

    The Mongols landed, but couldn’t overcome determined Japanese defenders, who had learned their lesson.

    Though driven back, the Mongols busied themselves with occupying the abundant islands around northern Kyushu, turning some of them into bases from which they raided the mainland. The Japanese lacked the naval strength to face the Mongol fleet directly, and instead launched night attacks on Mongol ships, inflicting minor damage and proving to be a nuisance rather than a serious strategic threat.

    The situation got worse for the Japanese when the Mongol Southern Fleet finally arrived, and the combined fleets based themselves at Takashima Island, where they made plans to renew the attack on Kyushu.

    At the same time, an army of some 60,000, dispatched by the Shogun to oppose the invasion, was making its way towards Kyushu, but before it reached Chofu, where it intended to cross from Honshu (Japan’s main island) to Kyushu, the weather had intervened.

    And they were scattered.

    In mid-August, the weather took a sudden turn, experienced sailors amongst the Mongol Fleet recognised the signs sought cover in Imari Bay, but it was already too late. On August 15th, a typhoon smashed into the Mongol Fleet, devastating it; those ships not sunk outright were stranded ashore where the Japanese made short work of their crews.

    The few Mongol ships that managed to survive the storm limped back across the sea to Korea, with some Chinese sources claiming that the losses may have been as high as 90%. The Mongol Invasion of Japan had failed, and though there were discussions about mounting a third attempt, they came to nothing, and Japan would remain free of foreign occupation until 1945.

    Despite having seen off the invasion, the Shogunate and the Hojo Regents were in no position to celebrate. Traditionally, warriors, victorious in war, were granted land taken from their defeated enemies, or at least could expect a share of the loot.

    The problem was that there was no land, and precious little loot to be shared out, and this led to growing resentment amongst the men who had actually done the fighting and dying and the popularity and prestige of the Shogunate was badly shaken.

    Another consequence of the failed invasion was a sharp rise in Japanese amongst the Wako, pirates who were a serious problem for coastal Chinese communities for decades afterwards, so much so, that Wako raids were cited as one of the reasons for an eventual Chinese ban on trade with Japan, though that would come long after the Mongol Yuan Dynasty had fallen.

    In Japan, too, the unsuccessful invasion led to some significant changes. Firstly, the belief that Japan was a land with divine protection became widespread, with the Kamikaze (literally, Divine Wind) being cited as the source of the Typhoon that had smashed the Mongol Fleet.

    Military technology was changed too; prior to the invasion, the Samurai had favoured the bow or spear as their primary weapon. When forced to fight up close with the Mongols, their swords were found to be too easily bent or broken, and this led to innovations in sword manufacturing that produced shorter, lighter, but stronger blades, giving birth to the iconic swords we know today.

    The Hojo and their puppet Shoguns would continue to rule Japan for decades after the threat of invasion had passed, but their rule was shaky, and the 14th century would see them face their final challenge, one of their own.

    Sources
    https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E5%85%83%E5%AF%87
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mongol_invasions_of_Japan
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kublai_Khan

    Not that many this week, eh?