Curse on This Country: The Rebellious Army of Imperial Japan by Danny Orbach (review)

The topic of this volume might on the face of it appear to be a relatively familiar one: how to account for the tendency toward insubordination that bedeviled the Imperial Japanese Army in the 1930s. This is of, course, a subject on which we already have useful studies such as Richard Storry's The Double Patriots: A Study of Japanese Nationalism (Chatto & Windus, 1957) and Ben-Ami Shillony's Revolt in Japan (Princeton University Press, 1973). However, Orbach's work is by no means an exercise in repetition, for his purpose is to look more broadly at the issue of radicalism and insubordination as a consistent theme in the history of the Japanese army from its origins until the Pacific War.

Orbach begins his study by locating the origins of the problem of radicalism in the shishi (men of purpose) of the 1860s who took up arms against the Tokugawa shogunate and helped to bring about the imperial restoration of 1868. He contends that the fact that insubordination in the name of a higher cause led to the birth of the Meiji regime meant there was from the start a precedent for "righteous rebellion" in modern Japan. Moreover, he argues convincingly that the lifestyle and beliefs of the shishi constituted an intoxicating brew for later generations of young men looking for adventure. In particular, he draws perceptive political and cultural parallels between those who assisted in carrying out the Meiji Restoration of 1868 and those who sought to emulate their achievement with a Showa Restoration in the 1930s.

The book then proceeds through a series of well-chosen and well-written case studies, which draw on an astonishing amount of research into difficult primary sources, to present us with a detailed history of the post-1868 evolution of insubordination within the army. Some of these episodes, such as the Satsuma revolt of 1877 and the coup attempts from the 1930s, are already very familiar, but others are less so, most notably the Saga rebellion of 1874 and the army's involvement in the assassination of Queen Min of Korea in 1895. Moreover, in the case of the Taisho political crisis of 1912–13, Orbach reshapes a familiar episode to allow us to see how it can be construed as an army-led nonviolent coup d'état. Orbach marshals his case studies to illustrate a number of the significant traits that played out over time. For example, he shows how those engaged in the subversion of government policy became increasingly junior in rank as time progressed, and he also maps how the existence of factions meant that, despite its outward strength, the army essentially lacked strong, coherent leadership.

In order to frame his argument and explain the phenomenon of insubordination, Orbach postulates that three "bugs" compromised the successful working of civil-military relations, these being the constitutional position of the army, the drive for overseas expansion, and the vagueness of the imperial ideology. The first of these problems is familiar and well explained, for it is clear that the concept of the "Supreme Command," which gave the army general staff a free rein over operational matters, was a grave flaw. However, the latter two factors are left rather undeveloped and needed more assured handling. Also, the use of the word "bugs" rather grates; such usages can become anachronistic.

In addition, the book would have benefited from describing in more detail a factor that is mentioned a few times in passing, but which is surely essential to the story—the valorization of the shishi and its consequences for army discipline. Orbach notes on pages 23–24 that from 1875 the souls of those who fought in the Boshin War of 1868–69 were enshrined at the Yasukuni Shrine in Tokyo and that this further legitimized the idea of "pure rebellion." However, as actions such as this would later backfire against the government, it would be interesting to know...