Military Intervention in Pre-War Japanese Politics: Admiral Kato Kanji and the Washington System' (Curzon Studies in East Asia)

MILITARY INTERVENTION IN PRE-WAR JAPANESE POLITICS Admiral Katō Kanji during his period as C-in-C Combined Fleet, pay...

Author: Ian Gow

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MILITARY INTERVENTION IN PRE-WAR JAPANESE POLITICS

Admiral Katō Kanji during his period as C-in-C Combined Fleet, paying a special visit to Asahi Primary School in his beloved home town of Fukui, 1928.

Military Intervention in Prewar Japanese Politics Admiral Katō Kanji and the ‘Washington System’

Ian Gow

Military Intervention in Pre-war Japanese Politics Admiral Katō Kanji and the ‘Washington System’ First published 2004 through Japan Library by RoutledgeCurzon 11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE Simultaneously published in the USA and Canada By RoutledgeCurzon 29 West 35th Street, New York, NY 10001 This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2005. “To purchase your own copy of this or any of Taylor & Francis or Routledge’s collection of thousands of eBooks please go to www.eBookstore.tandf.co.uk.” RoutiedgeCurzon is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalog record for this book has been requested. ISBN 0-203-64179-5 Master e-book ISBN

ISBN 0-203-67924-5 (Adobe eReader Format) ISBN 0-7007-1315-8 (Print Edition)

Contents

Preface and Acknowledgements

ix

Introduction

1

PART I: KATŌ’S FORMATIVE YEARS 1

2

3

The Early Years

15

Fukui

16

Katō’s Father

20

Katō’s Mother

22

Hashimoto Sanai

23

Kato’s Childhood and Early Education

24

Early Formative Influences: A Reassessment

25

1882–1921: Naval Career, From Student to Naval Academy President

33

Naval Education in Nineteenth-century Japan

33

Katō Enters the Naval Academy

37

Katō Joins the Fleet

39

From England to the Russo-Japanese War

42

From Navy Ministry Duties to WW1

45

Katō and World War I

51

Vladivostok and the Siberian Expedition

54

The European Tour and Presidency of the Naval Academy

60

The Road to the Washington Conference

68

Potential Enemies

68

vi

The 8–8 Fleet

70

The 70% Ratio

72

From Naval Arms Race to Naval Arms Limitation

73

The League of Nations and Naval Limitation

77

The Japanese Navy and Naval Limitation

77

The Call for a Conference at Washington

80

The Navy Prepares for Washington

82

The Tri-ministerial Preparatory Committee

86

Selection of Delegates

90

PART II: KATŌ AND NAVAL LIMITATION 4

5

6

Katō at Washington, 1921–22

97

Katō’s Appointment as Chief Technical Adviser

97

Katō’s Thinking Prior to the Conference

100

The Washington Conference

107

Naval Limitation

107

The Sub-Committee of Naval Experts

111

The Three-Nation Naval Experts Committee

118

Existing Strength

119

Basic Calculations

121

The Tokugawa Incident

127

The Two Katōs

132

From Washington to London: The Years 1922–29

150

The Geneva Naval Conference of 1927

159

Katō’s Role in the Geneva Conference

168

The Road to the 1930 London Naval Conference

176

The Anglo-American Position

180

Japan’s Position Prior to the Conference

183

vii

7

8

9

10

Katō Kanji’s Position Prior to the Conference

192

Katō Opposes the ‘American Compromise’

204

Katō and the ‘American’ Plan

208

Katō and the Treaty Ratification Issue

249

Katō and the Diet

251

Katō and Takarabe’s Return

255

The Naval Strength Issue

258

Katō’s Resignation

260

Katō as Supreme Military Councillor, and TreatyRatification

267

Katō and the Supreme Military Council

267

Katō and the Privy Council

281

Katō’s Final Years

293

Katō and Naval Politics 1932–34

300

Preparing for the next Naval Conference

304

Katō, the Fleet Memorial and the Premiership

307

Katō and the ‘February Incident’

314

Conclusion

325

Bibliography

342

Index

363

FOR KATIE

Preface and Acknowledgements

My interest in military intervention in politics began during my undergraduate studies at Edinburgh after leaving the Royal Navy. My MA thesis dealt with the subject of military (army) intervention in politics in the 1930s. At the time I was greatly influenced by the work of James Crowley. My conclusion, however, was that the 1920s, and especially naval intervention in politics over arms control, held the key to understanding the nature of civil-military relations and military role expansion in Japanese politics. I was fortunate to be accepted as a doctoral candidate at the centre for Japanese Studies, University of Sheffield, where I began my language studies as well as the study of Japanese political history. A Japanese Ministry of Education scholarship for language training took me to Osaka University of Foreign Languages, which was followed by a year at Doshisha University under the supervision of Professor Asada Sadao. Subsequently, I was awarded an Economic and Social Science Research Council scholarship, which enabled me to continue my studies at Sheffield under the guidance of Dr Gordon Daniels, followed by a year at the Social Science Institute at Tokyo University where I was priviledged to come under the guidance of Professor Banno Junji. The research for the thesis and this book has gone on for many years. During this time I have benefited greatly from advice, comments, assistance and encouragement provided by a great number of scholars, too many to mention by name. I hope those not mentioned won’t be offended and will understand if I thank them all silently and yet still single out a small number of people to whom I owe a special debt. In particular, I owe a great debt to my supervisor Dr Gordon Daniels. I would also like to thank especially Mr Graham Healey and Dr (now Professor) Janet Hunter for their generous help whilst I struggled with the difficulties of both modern and classical Japanese. I have continued over the years to benefit from the insights into Japanese diplomatic and naval history provided by the pioneering research of

x

Professor Asada Sadao. It was his seminal essay on the Japanese navy in Borg and Okamoto’s Pearl Harbour as History which greatly influenced me in the selection of my thesis topic. His subsequent corpus of work on the Japanese Navy and the interwar naval limitation conferences has continued to provide me with insights even though we may disagree on interpretations of Katō Kanji himself. I owe a tremendous debt to Professor Banno Junji, a truly great scholar and a most generous mentor. He not only provided brilliant insights but spent many hours helping me with difficult handwritten materials and facilitated access to all sorts of important sources. Professor Nomura Minoru of the Military History Office, Tokyo, also provided generous advice, support and access to materials as did Hirose Yoshihiro of the National Diet Library and Unno Yoshiro at the Foreign Ministry Archives. Professor Mikami Kazuo shared with me his tremendous knowledge of Fukui history and Professor Itō Takashi of Tokyo University fasilitated an introduction to Katō Kanji’s son, Katō Hirokazu who gave generously of his time and supplied me with hitherto inaccessible materials. I was the first foreign scholar to see, let alone use, the Katō Kanji diaries. I have been indebted over the years, too, to Professor Ikeda Kiyoshi, Professor Hosoya Chihiro, Professor Ian Nish, Professor Roger Dingman, the late Professor David Evans, Dr Stephen Large and Professor Hamish Ion for their helpful comments and encouragement. I must add a special thank you for the considerable linguistic help I received from my old friend Sakamoto Yasutoshi whilst completing the thesis and my other dear friend Lola OkazakiWard for similar assistance when completing the book. I would also like to thank Paul Norbury for his personal and professional support in the making of this book. Finally, I owe the greatest debt to my wife Katy. Her continuing support and encouragement has been a major source of spiritual strength to me. It is no exaggeration to say that without this, combined with her wonderful belief in me, neither the thesis nor this monograph would ever have seen the light of day. For all that she has given and all that she has given up to help me whilst also pro-viding me with four wonderful sons, I dedicate this work to her. IAN GOW Nottingham October 2003

Introduction

Admiral Katō (Hiroharu) Kanji (1871–1939) was a key figure in the development of the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN). His naval career spanned the formation, growth and maturation of that remarkable organization prior to the Pacific War. His roles and influence within the IJN, in terms of naval development, in the areas of education, technology, naval engagements, institutional change and internal naval politics and naval diplomacy alone merit him worthy of serious attention. Katō Kanji occupied all the major educational and ‘command’ posts in the prewar Japanese Navy. He emerged from his naval training as a classic member of the toppubatsu (‘top of the class clique’). This marked him out as destined for high rank at a time when ascriptive hanbatsu (‘feudal domain origins’) criteria were being replaced by achievement criteria (performance at the Naval Academy and Naval War College). He went on to serve as Chief of the Gunnery School, Commandant of the Naval Academy Etajima and President of the Naval War College. He occupied all the major ‘command’ posts in the navy including Vice-Chief of the Naval General Staff, C-in C Combined Fleet and Chief of the Naval General Staff. He had a distinguished war record, serving in all the major wars of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. He also witnessed key naval-diplomatic events; for example, he directly observed, as a junior naval officer, the American accession of Hawaii in the 1890s. He participated directly as a middleranking officer in complex renegotiations over the renewal of the AngloJapanese Alliance. Later, he served as naval attaché to Britain prior to World War One, commanded a squadron in joint operations with the Royal Navy and on escort duties for Anzac Forces during World War One and commanded the Japanese squadron at Vladivostok that landed the first troops during the Siberian Expedition in 1919. During the 1920s he occupied all the leading command positions ashore and afloat culminating in his promotion from Vice-Chief of the Naval General Staff to C-in-C Combined Fleet and then

2 MILITARY INTERVENTION IN PRE-WAR JAPANESE POLITICS

in 1929 becoming Chief of the Naval General Staff. During the 1930s he served as a member of the Supreme Military Council. Katō also was associated very much with Japanese naval traditions as well as Japanese traditional values in general. He was closely linked with great naval heroes of the Russo-Japanese War such as Tōgō Heihachirō, the ‘Nelson of Japan’, serving with distinction as his Chief Gunner aboard Tōgō’s flagship the Mikasa. He was also a very close friend and classmate of Lt Hirose Takeo. The latter’s death in the first encounters at Port Arthur earned Hirose a place alongside Tōgō at Etajima Naval College in the Japanese pantheon of war heroes/gods (gunshin) of the IJN. Katō’s advocacy of the Japanese fighting spirit, (yamato damashii), combined with a close personal identification with the great heroes of the RussoJapanese War endeared Katō to traditionalists and those who emphasized spiritual as opposed to materiel power within the IJN and indeed the Imperial Japanese Army. In the 1920s Katō himself became a strong advocate of fierce and relentless training, especially night training. This was largely in order to substitute the Japanese fighting spirit for technological deficits in terms of ships - a direct consequence of Japan agreeing to accept lower ratios at the Washington Naval Conference of 1921/22. Kat’s traditionalist image found sympathetic support amongst many Japanese, inside and outside the IJN, as Japan wrestled continuously with retention of innate Japanese values and approaches versus the increasing adoption of Western ones. This dilemma was especially marked within a military, especially a navy seeking to compete with the leading Western Naval Powers, a process which at times seemed to lead inexorably to mirrorimaging, which almost demanded divesting Japanese traditional values. However, Katō, like so many of his generation, was no mere traditionalist. His contributions to and advocacy of technology provided a subtle Japaneseinfluenced blend of tradition and technology so clearly advocated by his great mentor Hashimoto Sanai who famously stated ‘We shall take the machines and techniques from them but we have our own ethics and morals’.1 Biographies of Katō were clearly intended to provide a suitable military role model for the youth of Japan on the eve of the Pacific War. More importantly, Katō’s influence on IJN officers led the distinguished military historian Tsunoda Jun to label the interwar naval officer corps ‘the Katō Kanji Generation’.2 There do not appear to exist any academic book-length studies of leading Japanese naval figures in English.3 Remedying this omission is therefore important when one considers the significance of the IJN in Japan’s recognition as a Pacific and then World Power prior to World War Two. The lack of biographical studies of Japanese naval/political figures compares very

INTRODUCTION 3

unfavourably with the greater detail available on Army figures such as Yamagata Aritomo, Saigō Takamori, Ishihara Kanji or even Tanaka Giichi.4 Again, there exist in English no detailed scholarly institutional studies of the IJN to compare with the work of Leonard Humphries on the Imperial Army.5 However, the work of Dull on battle history and the more recent work by the late David Evans and Mark Peattie on naval strategy, as well as a number of book-length doctoral theses, are clearly a significant contribution to our knowledge of the IJN in general.6 In fact, the major contribution in this area has come not from monographs but essays on the Japanese navy and arms limitation, especially a series of seminal essays in English over more than three decades, by Asada Sadao, focused mainly on interwar naval arms limitation.7 These works whilst throwing very considerable light on institutional developments all tend to portray Katō Kanji in an extremely negative light. Indeed, Tsunoda’s reference to a ‘Katō Generation’ was less than flattering and focused essentially on an interpretation of the perceived negative consequences of his role in the politicization of the naval officer corps of the 1920s and especially 1930s, an issue closely linked with the politics of naval limitation. Thus, in terms of naval history alone, narrowly defined, a study of Katō’s role would be a useful addition. However, it is Katō’s high profile and controversial role in naval limitation negotiations in the 1920s and 1930s and in particular the political crisis over the signing and ratification of the London Naval Treaty of 1930 which elevates Katō from a key figure in specialist naval history into a significant political actor and ensures that he has not been relegated to an important if brief historical footnote in Japanese political history in the early twentieth century. Katō’s pivotal role in these interwar naval limitation agreements placed him, at certain crucial junctures, on centre-stage in Japanese international relations and domestic politics as these naval agreements put major strains on the fragile and arguably flawed fabric of Japanese civil-military relations. He was closely involved in a series of political upheavals that have continued to fascinate political and international historians of Japan and students of the IJN. Japan participated in naval limitation agreements at Washington (1921) Geneva (1927) London (1930) and then withdrew from the agreements at the Second London Conference (1935). The acceptance of the 5:5:3 ratio in capital ships at Washington, the unsuccessful attempt to extend these ratios to auxiliaries at Geneva (1927) and the acceptance of these ratios overall at the London Conference of 1930 created major political tensions which saw the gradual emergence within the IJN, but also in wider political circles, of a major schism. This is often described in terms of two groupings or factions.


The first of these, and the one to whom historians have been kindest, comprised those who, despite some obvious disadvantages to Japan, were in favour of signing up to treaty agreements rather than risk the rupturing of negotiations, the so-called Treaty Faction (Jōyaku-ha). Ranged against them were those who on the one hand wished to push again for better terms or who were prepared to see the conferences fail rather than, as they saw it, back down to the Americans, and who ultimately favoured blocking the signing and ratification of those treaties, especially the London Treaty of 1930. This group of hard-liners (onken-ha) who eventually pressed for Japan to abrogate the Washington Treaty agreements, and to whom historians have been less than kind, are generally known as the Fleet Faction (Kantai-ha). The domestic opposition to the signing and the ratification of the Washington Treaty and more especially the 1930 London Treaty was to polarize the Japanese political community and indeed the naval establishment spawning a major political crisis involving the throne (the so-called Supreme Command Crisis). The intensity of this political crisis in domestic politics and its repercussions for civil-military, intermilitary and intra-military relations arguably makes the London Treaty crisis of 1930, rather than Manchurian Crisis of 1931, the pivotal point in Japan’s descent into the dark valley (kurai tanima) of the 1930s together with the ensuing massive, overt role expansion in politics, by the Japanese army and navy; and at the same time it marked deterioration in relations with the Anglo-American Powers, especially for the navy and its relations with the USA. This ‘treaty crisis’ or ‘supreme command crisis’ of 1930 contributed greatly to Japan’s eventual withdrawal from the Second London Treaty negotiations and secession from the entire ‘Washington System’. Moreover, the political repercussions of naval limitation agreements exacerbated differences within the IJN itself and triggered major institutional and personnel change within the navy. Whether one sees naval limitation as the cause of this or merely as a symptom of the growth of a dual command system within the navy, it resulted in bringing to a head the competition between the older Navy Ministry and a younger Naval General Staff organization. This resulted in major reforms granting the Naval General Staff parity with the Navy Ministry and in addition parity with their more illustrious army counterparts the Army General Staff. This power shift affected both peacetime and wartime intermilitary as well as intra-navy arrangements and increased problems of coordination within the navy and between the navy and the army, especially in wartime Imperial Headquarters. Further-more, these struggles spawned a personnel crisis

INTRODUCTION 5

leading to the Osumi Purge of 1933 whereby many talented officers who had been seen as pro-Treaty or pro-Navy Ministry were forced to retire. Thus naval limitation issues and these personnel purges reflected significant institutional power struggles that came to a head during and immediately after the signing and ratification of the London Treaty (1930). They manifested themselves outside the naval establishment as increased politicization of the naval leadership that led to major problems of coordination between the navy and the cabinet. Finally, they contributed to the IJN successfully pressuring the government into withdrawing from the Second London Naval Conference and thus secession from the ‘Washington System’. For some scholars this has been seen as the success of the so-called ‘Fleet Faction’ and that their success restarted the naval arms race and led inexorably to the IJN attack on Pearl Harbor.8 In any discussion of the ‘Fleet Faction’ and Japanese naval responses to arms limitation issues at this time Admiral Katō is always a, if not the, central figure. Whether as a key figure or as the symbolic figurehead, Admiral Katō Kanji is therefore arguably an ideal focal device for studying the politics of naval limitation in Japan. At Washington 1921/22, as Chief Technical Adviser, he was the focus of some rather controversial press coverage and speculation. However, this was insignificant in comparison to the legacy the Washington Naval Limitation Treaty bequeathed, in terms of perceptions of ‘inferior ratios’ imposed by the ‘colluding’ Anglo-American Naval Powers at Washington. This legacy undoubtedly had a major impact on the mindset of Katō himself as well as certain elements within the navy and the general public. He was not directly involved in the Geneva negotiations in 1927. Nevertheless, clearly as the C-in-C Combined Fleet, the highest command position afloat, he did have to deal with the consequences of agreements made at Washington. He did have strongly held views, which carried considerable weight. He was certainly very aware of the strategic consequences for the fleet from any agreements that might have emerged had Geneva 1927 been successful—especially on cruiser ratios, and there is no doubt that he was at the very heart of negotiations at home in Tokyo in 1929/ 30, as Chief of the Naval General Staff, addressing the questions of the acceptance of ‘compromise’ proposals, the signing and the ratification of the Treaties, and the later supplementary budgets which were designed to compensate for the ratios agreed at London. Katō, by his actions, by the actions of his subordinates and supporters, by his attempts to influence the throne, together with his resignation, clearly influenced events and his role is undoubtedly a key one. It is quite common to see him attributed with very considerable influence (and even control)


over the institutional changes relating to the Naval General Staff in the early 1930s and the personnel purge—even influencing hot-headed young officers in the 1930s. From his controversial stand and resignation in 1930 and throughout the period until Japan withdrew from the interwar naval limitation frameworks based on the original agreements at Washington, Katō Kanji continued, in his role as a member of the Supreme War Council, to be closely involved in these events. This study offers a reevaluation of his role in these developments. The complex negotiations and the politicization of the naval officer corps, especially from the London Treaty Crisis onwards, spawned a major constitutional crisis focusing on the ‘infringement of the supreme command’ (tōsuiken kanpan). This constitutional issue, incorporating the right of direct access to the Emperor (iaku jōsō) by senior military officers which enabled them to bypass the cabinet, indicates a primary fault line running through the fabric of Japanese civil-military relations. Katō’s actions and the timing and mode of his resignation plus his political activities afterwards, as the leader or symbol of the anti-treaty forces, are central to our understanding of the role of the Japanese navy in politics as well as Japanese domestic and international politics at this time. Massive overt intervention by senior naval officers such as Katō Kanji in the political process has received considerable attention from contemporaries and from scholarly literature in Japanese, of which the pioneering work of Asada Sadao has continued to be the most influential. However Ikeda Kiyoshi, a leading Japanese naval historian, has perceptively pointed out that most of the scholarly literature has been dominated by interpretations based on extensive use of Japanese archival materials involving key figures and key materials sympathetic to the protreaty forces at this time.9 A study of these crises utilizing Katō Kanji as a focal device, as a leader, figurehead or symbol of the anti-treaty forces within the navy and elsewhere, provides a useful alternative perspective on events and political actions. This in turn should lead to a more balanced assessment of the role of the IJN in politics and politics in the IJN at this time. Katō, because of his highly visible and controversial role in these events has, at best, received less than his due for a principled stand against what he and many contemporary Japanese perceived as Anglo-American coercion over ratios. At worst, he has been subjected to an overly simplistic vilification and at times almost demonization by contemporaries and modern Japanese and non-Japanese scholars. In the words of Arthur Tiedemann, in his preface to the translation of the Kobayashi Tatsuo’s seminal work on interwar naval limitation in Taiheiyo Sensō e no Michi (The Road to the Pacific War):

INTRODUCTION 7

(Katō) has been accorded less than justice in being portrayed as a goodnatured but not too bright an old sea dog whose opposition to the (London) Treaty was an aberration brought about by the machinations of a wily subordinate (Admiral Suetsugu Nobumasa). There was more intellectual substance to Katō Kanji than that, and his criticism of the treaty reflected long-held opinions, opinions deeply rooted in a seriously pondered and coherent world view. Moreover, Katō’s technical objections to the treaty were not frivolous.10 This viewpoint, the only American interpretation of Katō and the naval arms limitation debate which gives any credence to the views that Katō and others held, is in complete contrast to the dominant image, one of negative stereotyping and even character assassination of a talented naval officer in the extant literature in Japanese or English. Tiedemann’s observation is welcome and a long overdue development in the debate in the historiography of the naval limitation controversies in Japan. There is no study in English that focuses on this alternative, more considered or more sympathetic view of Katō Kanji.11 It is true that a more positive view of Japanese naval officers and interwar naval limitation in general does appear in the works of Kobayashi Tatsuo that in turn influenced James Crowley’s seminal work.12 The dominant approach has been from a diplomatic history as opposed to arms control approach to the subject. An honourable exception is the excellent study of events leading to the Washington Conference by Roger Dingman, a model of balanced analysis underpinned by a fine understanding of arms races and arms limitation theory.13 However, the field has tended to be dominated by the pro-treaty and one might say rather pro-American perspectives of American or American-trained diplomatic historians such as Stephen Pelz and Sadao Asada. Even the monumental study of the IJN by Evans and Peattie merely restates the Asada/Pelz interpretation and especially their negative and rather dismissive view of Katō Kanji and those of like mind. It is essentially the extraordinarily one-sided negative view of Katō, from what we might call the ‘anti-Katō faction’ of contemporaries and present-day scholars that is in considerable need of correction, challenge and debate. The portrayal of Katō in much of the secondary literature, especially in Englishlanguage works, shows clearly a return to simplistic caricatures of Japanese military men that, one hoped, had disappeared. Especially in the works of neo-revisionists such as Tsunoda, Asada and Pelz, Katō appears as an hotheaded sea-going samurai deeply imbued with traditional feudal values, a ‘son of a samurai spear-bearer’ who glorified in and constantly advocated a


brand of Japanese spiritualism. Katō, according to this interpretation, is to be credited with infusing a hitherto ‘Western-influenced, modern, technologically-oriented’ rational naval officer corps with a set of modes of thinking emanating from Japan’s pre-modern past which led the IJN inexorably into war with the United States. This they perceived as nonWestern, irrational and spiritual. Katō’s principal ‘irrationalism’ for the majority of writers, however, both Japanese and Western, was to be found in his devotion to the struggle against the application of the ratio system in naval warships, especially the ‘inferior rations, allocated to Japan. Much of the literature, implicitly and explicitly assumes that the arms limitation agreements were a ‘good thing’ and that those who opposed them were the something akin to the ‘forces of darkness’ and since they were against arms limitation they must be in favour of war. This fails to take into account the fact that the link between arms races and outbreaks of wars is at least ‘not proven’ and that arms limitation is a political weapon not necessarily intended to lead to disarmament. Much of the analysis to date fails to take account of a basic political reality, and this certainly is apposite when it comes to reevaluating Katō’s position on the agreements, namely ‘where you stand depends on where you sit’. This is applicable to Japanese politics as it is to other political systems. To dismiss Katō’s position on naval limitation as ‘narrowly technical’ omits the key point that he was occupying positions that required precisely that perspective—not some overall national, diplomatic ‘big picture’ perspective. What emerges in the extant literature on naval limitation and his involvement is a portrait of a ‘premodern’ feudal warrior creating havoc in a ‘modern’ international and domestic political arena. The portrayal is made all the more effective in that Katō and his followers are cleverly contrasted with fellow Japanese naval officers, usually from the Navy Ministry, of a more ‘moderate’ persuasion. The latter are in turn credited with first-rate minds, broad outlooks and essentially modern, Western, rational viewpoints.14 This contrast with a Japanese group—the Navy Ministry or Treaty Faction or Administrative Faction—is arguably much more effective than simply contrasting Katō’s group with their Western naval counter-parts. Katō and fellow officers of like mind were always evaluated negatively and ‘interfered’ in politics but it is perhaps worth noting also that when pro-treaty naval officers, serving or retired, involved themselves in politics this was not seen as intervention and was invariably praised and seen in a positive light. Any efforts by the anti-treaty faction to adopt a hard-line attitude in the negotiations at the conferences for example, or even to question the Americans, is invariably cast in an extremely negative light. The extant

INTRODUCTION 9

literature is laden with emotive anachronisms such as ‘feudal’ and ‘samurai’ as well as a more modern negative imagery associated with ‘General Staffs’. Katō devoted the most important years of his career to the struggle against the ‘inferior’ ratios ‘imposed’ at Washington and continued at London in 1930. Therefore, for any student attempt-ing to unravel the complexities of Japan’s experiences with naval arms control, Katō’s pivotal role provides an effective means for studying the massive documentary material on the subject. Moreover, such a focus, in addition to providing the necessary continuity between the conferences, can provide a more thorough examination of the aspirations and motivation of the opponents of the treaty agreements. This in turn will hopefully provide a useful corrective to the existing, over-simplified portrayal—not to say caricature, of Katō and the forces hostile to the treaty agreements reached. The aim of this study, however, is neither to condemn nor condone, but to take our understanding of their attitudes and actions forwards and, in addition, to attempt to establish a balance in terms of source materials utilized. Rather than caricature Katō as some sort of feudal throwback reflecting something similar to Schumpeter’s ‘primitive ativism’ we need to examine his thinking, his behaviour and perhaps how he was used by others, symbolically and actually. This requires giving him his due in terms of his undoubted intellectual abilities, his sophisticated understanding of international politics and perhaps a rather less sophisticated understanding of domestic politics as well as his ‘realist’ perspective on arms limitation and American intentions. Then one must add to that the career positions he found himself in when confronted with treaty agreements. Finally, one must perhaps look at his personality. Arguably, Katō is a particular personality type common in all military and many civilian organizations. He was clearly very direct, wore his emotions on his sleeve and was patently uncomfortable with ‘shore’ or bureaucratic jobs, especially those that might require political expediency over principle. He was a classic field commander rather than a headquarters man, a leader certainly but one happiest in action rather than in the politics of compromise, non-decision and the calculated indirectness of bureaucratic politics. He is similar to the Andrew Gordon typology of the ‘rat-catcher type’ as opposed to ‘regulator type’ or as the command/warrior type as opposed to the administrative/diplomatic, Whitehall/ Pentagon-type. Another way of saying it is heroic leaders versus (naval) managers.15 The latter tended to come to the top in peace-time navies and were often more at home in staff (e.g. Navy Ministry) rather than command roles (at sea or Naval General Staff). The former, much less risk averse, were much more highly valued in wartime.


Finally, this study of Katō attempts to go beyond mere biography or narrow naval history. Katō’s later activities in opposition to the naval ratios were mainly in the arena of domestic politics and therefore provide an excellent means of studying the role of the Japanese navy in politics as well as politics in the Japanese navy. Moreover, it sheds considerable light, especially concerning the London Treaty crisis phase, into the institutional complexities in a crucial area of decision-making in defence and foreign policy in early twentieth century Japan. It also offers us, in addition, a rare case study, in terms of comparative civil-military relations, of the politicization of a naval officer corps and role expansion by a navy in domestic and international politics with all its ramifications for civilmilitary, inter-military and even intra-military relations. The approach adopted here divides the study into two major parts. In Part I Katō’s career is traced up to the Washington Conference, with special attention being paid to formative influences—in particular those influences relating to his own brand of Japanese traditionalism and how they blended with his interests in technological developments. In addition, Katō’s international experiences and his role and importance in the navy up to 1921 will be assessed. This will be set against a background of the rapidly developing IJN. Part II focuses primarily on Katō and the inter-war naval conferences with special attention being paid to Washington (1921/22) and London (1930). Again, as background, a brief overview on naval developments, especially those pertaining to Japan and naval limitations precedes Katō’s activities at the Washington Conference. A description of Katō’s role in the navy of the 1920s and the London Naval Treaty crisis of 1930 is followed by a summary of his final years. Katō Kanji is then be reassessed as a naval and political figure and conclusions reached regarding his importance to the inter-war naval limitation debate within Japan as well as to the politicization of the inter-war naval officer corps. Such an approach offers the opportunity to provide a more balanced appraisal of Katō’s thinking as well as his abilities in this highly sensitive area of naval politics. It is also to be hoped that the utilization of Katō Kanji as a focal device will provide future researchers with additional information on the impact of naval agreements on Japanese domestic politics, civilmilitary, intermilitary and intra-military relations, hopefully leading to a more balanced appraisal of the analysis and impact of these naval conferences on the Japanese inter-war political system and the Japanese navy. In all of this the study of Katō merits a more extended and more balanced treatment than has hitherto been available in Japanese or English. Katō’s resignation as Chief of the Naval General Staff after the ratification of the

INTRODUCTION 11

London Naval Treaty of 1930 heralded the premature end of a most distinguished naval career. Katō, therefore, at the end of his career, whether one supports or opposes his ‘principled’ stand against ‘imposed ratios’ etc, represents perhaps yet another tragic failure in the traditions of the figures portrayed by Ivan Morris.16 Nevertheless, his involvement in the political scene in interwar Japan indicates the blending of a sophisticated understanding of particular international politics plus a hard-line, realist view of naval limitationalbeit combined with what might well be interpreted as a rather naïve perspective on domestic politics. But a focus on Katō the man can hopefully offer further insights, especially but not exclusively, on those who opposed the treaties. It also contributes to understanding the complexities of the domestic impact of international agreements, especially arms-control agreements (and more pertinently when used by Japanese civilian policy-makers as a convenient form of external pressure—gaiatsu) on a professional and rapidly developing navy and on the fragile, embryonic nature of Japanese democratic politics. Finally, such an approach hopefully sheds further light on the brittle fabric of civil-military relations in terms of both civilian control and military role expansion in politics. Whilst adding to the small number of studies of Japanese naval history in English this volume is also intended to contribute to the important ‘and ongoing debates regarding military intervension and military role expansion’ in interwar Japanese politics and to comparative civil-military relations. Notes 1 Numata Hiro, ‘Acceptance and Rejection of Elements of European Culture in Japan’ Caheirs d’histoire Mondiale Vol. 3 No. 1, (1956), p. 241, cited in George M. Wilson The Bakumatsu Intellectual in Action: Hashimoto Sanai in the Political Crisis of 1858’, in Albert Craig and Donald Shively (eds.), Personality in Japanese History, (Berkeley, 1970), pp. 238. 2 Tsunoda Jun, ‘Nihon Kaigun Sandai no Rekishi’, Jiyū, (January 1969), pp. 90–125. 3 But see Fading Victory. The Diary of Admiral Matome Ugaki 1941–45. Translated by Masataka Chihaya, 1991 University of Pittsburgh Press. 4 The Imperial Japanese Army, 1918–1929: Roger F Hackett, Yamagata Aritomo in the Rise of Modern Japan 1838–1922, (Cambridge, Mass., 1971); Mark Peattie, Ishihara Kanji and Japan’s Confrontation with the West, (Princeton, 1975); William F. Morton, Tanaka Giichi and Japan’s China Policy, (Folkestone, 1980).Charles L Yates Saigō Takamori: The Man behind the Myth London 1995 5 L.A. Humphreys The Way of the Heavenly Sword: The Japanese Army in the 1920s (Stanford University Press Calif., 1995) & his Doctoral thesis‘The Disintegration of the Meiji Military System’, Ph.D, (Stanford University, 1974). 6 David C Evans and Mark R Peattie Kaigun: Strategy, Tactics and Technology in the Imperial Japanese Navy 1887–1941 Annapolis 1997 Peter G. Cornwall, The


7

8

9

10 11 12

13 14 15 16

Meiji Navy: Training in an Age of Change, Ph.D., (University of Michigan, 1970); John C. Perry, Great Britain and the Emergence of Japan as a Naval Power, Ph.D., (Harvard University, 1961), David Evans, The Satsuma Faction and Professionalism in the Japanese Naval Officer corps of the Meiji Period, Ph.D, (Stanford University, 1978). Please see also my Doctoral thesis Katō Kanji and the Politics of Naval Arms Limitation: Politics in the Japanese Navy and the Japanese Navy in Politics University of Sheffield, 1984. Asada Sadao, ‘The Japanese Navy and the United States’, in Dorothy Borg and Shumpei Okamoto (eds.), Pearl Harbor as History: Japanese-American Relations 1931–1941, (New York, 1973), pp. 225–259. 25 ‘Japanese Admirals and the Politics of Naval Arms Limitation: Katō Tomosaburō vs Katō Kanji’, in G. Jordan (ed.), Naval Warfare in the 20th century: Essays in Honour of Arthur Marder, (London 1977) ‘The Revolt against the Washington Treaty: The Imperial Japanese Navy and Naval Limitation 1921–1927’ Naval War College Review pp. 82–97, 1994; From Washington to London: The Imperial Japanese Navy and the Politics of Naval Limitation 1921–1930. in Eric Goldstein John Maurer (eds) The Washington Conference 1921–22: Naval Rivalry, East Asian Stability and the Road to Pearl Harbor, (Ilford, 1994) pp. 147–191; ‘Nihon. Kaigun to Gunshuku—Taibei Seisaku o meguru Seiji Katei’ in op. cit., Hosöyä, Saitō and Katō (eds.) pp. 353– 414 and ‘Washinton Kaigi o meguru NichiBei no Seisaku Kettei Katei no Hikaku— Hito to Kiko’, in Hosoya Chihiro and Watanuki Joji (eds.), Taigai Seisaku Kettei Katei ni NichiBei Hikaku, (Tokyo, 1977), pp. 419–464. See op. cit. Asada 1994 Naval War College Review p. 94 citing Stephen Pelz, Race to Pearl Harbor: The Failure of the Second London Naval Conference and the Onset of World War II, (Cambridge, Mass., 1974), p. 27. Ikeda Kiyoshi, ‘Rondon Kaigun Jōyaku ni kansuru Gunreibugawa no Shiryō Sanpen’, Hōgaku Zasshi Vol. 15, No. 4, (March, 1969), pp. 102–126, was an attempt to remedy the neglect of materials on the Naval General Staff/‘Fleet Faction’ side. Ikeda stated in this article that very little of their materials had appeared or been utilized by Japanese scholars. Arthur Tiedemann ‘Introduction’ in James William Morley (ed) Japan Erupts: The London Naval Conference and the Manchurian Incident (New York, 1984) p. 9. But see my ‘Admiral Katō Kanji and the Politics of Naval Arms Control’, H. Ion and J. in Gooch (eds), Military Heretics, (Laurier Press, Canada, 1993). For Kobayashi’s works in Japanese see bibliography but in English see op. cit. Morley 1984 pp. 11–117 for Arthur Tiedemann’s excellent translation ‘The London Naval Treaty’. James Crowley, Japan’s Quest for Autonomy: National Security and Foreign Policy 1930–38, (Princeton, 1966), especially pp. 35–81. Roger Dingman, Power in the Pacific: The Origins of Naval Limitation 1914– 1922, (Chicago, 1976). This is particularly marked in the works of Kobayashi, Asada, Pelz, Evans & Peattie. This is the insightful terminology used by Andrew Gordon in The Rules of the Game: Jutland and Naval Command (London, 2000) p. xi and p. 17. Ivan Morris The Nobility of Failure. Tragic Heroes in the History of Japan (London, 1975).

13

PART I Katō’s Formative Years

CHAPTER 1 The Early Years

Materials relating to Katō Kanji are not inconsiderable but tend to be focused mainly on the theme of naval arms control. Katō himself was not a prolific writer and the main corpus of materials written by him again relates to the subject of naval limitation. This one-dimensional feature of writings by and on Katō is partially rectified by his official biography.1 Yet even in that massive study there is also a tendency towards a one-dimensional portrait. One finds, as in Chinese biography, little hint of the personality beyond that relating to his official function. The paucity of materials that would ‘bring the subject to life’ is especially marked when we try to examine formative influences on Katō’s intellectual development and personality. Whilst it is rather easy to list formative influences which have a certain immediate plausibility it is quite another to provide evidence of a distinct causal relationship. In part this is due to a lack of relevant material on the early lives of Katō and other prominent prewar Japanese figures. Albert Craig stated the problem succinctly: ‘We know little of the early childhood of most historical figures. At best we have only sketchy biographical materials and a handful of anecdotes.’2 In part, it is due to the nature of Japanese biographical writing which indicated the strong links between Japanese and Chinese historical tradition. Again, to quote Craig ‘Part of the lifelessness of official biography lies in the Confucian canons of history by which they were written. These demanded the recording of those aspects of life that would serve as a moral mirror for posterity not the details that would make them come alive.’3 These remarks were addressed to the problems of Tokugawa biography but they are particularly apposite in Katō’s case. The main source of information on Katō’s life, especially his early life, is the massive official biography and all other biographical studies of him tend merely to paraphrase or embellish the data contained therein. Japanese military biography, by offering a ‘moral mirror’ could not but reflect the values of an earlier era with its emphasis on traditional warrior values. In addition, the didactic


motive was further strengthened by the particular period in which the biography and other literature on Katō was written, namely the early stages of the Pacific War. Katō, as other writings clearly show, was, like many other major military figures, held up as a model for Japanese youth at this time.4 Nevertheless, information on Katō’s birthplace and family background and influences should enable us to draw some general conclusions regarding his personality and early intellectual and career development. This chapter will provide some background on Katō’s birthplace, Fukui, especially as it functioned in midnineteenth-century Japan. Then the more direct influences on the young Katō, namely his parents and the intellectual influence of the Bakumatsu intellectual Hashimoto Sanai are considered. Finally, some details of his early formal education at elementary and military schools are described and evaluated. FUKUI Katō was born in the city of Fukui, in Western Japan, in 1871. Fukui had been the former castle town of the leading daimyō family of Echizen, the Matsudaira of Fukui. In 1877, Katō’s family moved to Tokyo where Katō received his early schooling. From that time his home was always in the Kantō area in and around Tokyo. Nevertheless, Katō always maintained strong links with Fukui particularly through the Hashimoto Sanai Remembrance Society, a society dedicated to a brilliant young Fukui scholar executed in the Ansei Purge of 1859. A memorial to Katō Kanji, dedicated by another distinguished Fukui naval officer, former Prime Minister Admiral Okada Keisuke, still stands in Fukui city today.5 Since Katō’s first four years were spent in Fukui and, since his family had deep roots there, it seems reasonable to assume that such an environment had a considerable influence on the formation of Katō’s character, personality and intellectual development. Indeed, the Japanese hold these early years of life to be crucial as indicated in the proverb Mitsugo no Tamashi Hyaku made (The soul of a child of three lasts for the rest of its life’)6 Fukui is located some 200 miles west of Tokyo on the west coast of Japan and around 1870 was estimated to have had a population of between 17,500 and 27,000.7 Fukui han (domain) had been created in 1600 when Yūki Hideyasu, second son of Tokugawa Ieyasu received 650,000 koku in Echizen for his services at the battle of Sekigahara.8 At this point, the family name of Matsudaira was adopted. In 1661, Fukui became the first han to issue hansatsu (domain paper money). In 1686 the han was reduced from 475,000

THE EARLY YEARS 17

to 250,000 koku. It later stabilized at 320,000 but, as with so many other han, it was to be plagued with economic difficulties, in part resulting from the above-mentioned reduction, and numerous famines. Peasant revolts of the Tempō era (1830–43) were most numerous in the Echizen area. By the midnineteenth century, therefore, in the wake of famines and peasant revolts, Fukui was facing grave economic difficulties and help from the Bakufu, or at least an easing of demands from the Bakufu, was not forthcoming.9 With the accession of Matsudaira Shungaku to the position of daimyō in 1836, Fukui’s fortunes began to change. He was, in fact, the sixth son of the Lord of Tayasu, one of the Gosankyō households and could perhaps have hoped for a position nearer to the centre of power. Matsudaira was the cousin of the eleventh Shogun and the nephew of the twelfth. Despite his youth Matsudaira soon began efforts to reform the han. He began by appointing new advisers in an attempt to reverse the economic decline. Honda Shuri, Suzuki Chikara and Nakane Yukie, all men of considerable talent, were chosen for the task. They adopted a policy of drastic fiscal retrenchment but these measures failed to reverse the economic decline.10 It was left to yet another triumvirate of younger and more talented men, Hashimoto Sanai, Yokoi Shōnan and Yuri Kimimasa to bring a measure of economic prosperity to the han in the 1850s. From the beginning of the 1840s Matsudaira’s efforts to reform the han had begun to have some effect. As a coastal han, Fukui was often made aware of the increasing presence and threat of Western warships in nearby coastal waters in the middle decades of the nineteenth century. This stimulated developments in gunnery and, around 1848, sea defence measures were taken on the coast of Echizen. Western-style gunnery and Western-style cannons in particular, were now increasingly studied and from 1847 retainers were despatched to Nagasaki to learn Western gunnery science. In 1851, in response to the Bakufu, which at last was taking the Western threat more seriously, Fukui completed Western-style cannons at a fort at Kagariyama. The 1850s saw a complete modernization of the han military structure. In 1852, Fukui abolished archery units, replacing them with rifle corps and began Western-style drilling. In 1855, the remaining archery units and spear squadrons were reformed into rifle units. In 1857, a huge factory for armaments was set up within the castle town. It was approximately 300 tsubo (1 tsubo=36 sq. ft.) and involved the diversion of a river and the employment of a labour force of over 1,200 people in its construction. It was a remarkable achievement rivalling the famous Shuseikan in Kagoshima. Such military improvements were helped by the knowledge possessed by Fukui’s scholars of rangaku (Dutch learning). In 1851 a policy for smallpox


vaccination throughout Fukui han was established by the pioneer in Dutch medicine Kasahara Ryōsaku and the latter established a smallpox vaccination centre in 1851. Matsudaira Shungaku later petitioned the Shogunate to set up a national vaccination programme but his request was rejected.11 In 1855 the Meidōkan, one of the leading schools of the Bakumatsu era, was established in Echizen and in the following year Hashimoto Sanai was recalled to teach there and was instrumental in setting up a Yōsho Shūgakusho (Centre for the Study of Western Books). All these improvements were, to a great extent, dependent on an improved economic climate. With the failure of the fiscal retrenchment policies of Fukui’s elder statesmen, it was the combined efforts of Yokoi Shōnan, Hashimoto Sanai and Yuri Kimimasa which finally reformed and revitalized the economy. All three, in their different ways, went on to play a national role.12 Yuri Kimimasa was the one principally responsible for achieving a workable policy for economic recovery although he owed a great debt to the other two. All three saw the generation of trade outside the domain as the path to recovery especially if it generated an inflow of gold and silver specie. Hashimoto’s ideas were very abstract and in most respects, Yokoi and Yuri provided the more practicable schemes. The principal differences between the latter two were that while Yokoi wished for total control by the han bureaucracy and the exclusion of the rich merchants from any leading role, Yuri saw the bureaucracy and merchant class combining their talents. Yokoi also advocated interest-free loans whilst Yuri insisted on interest being paid on loans. The vast armaments factory mentioned above was an example of the organizational abilities within Echizen han and finally, in 1859, Yuri was able to establish a bussan sōkaijo (Produce Distribution Centre) which was a co-operative venture between the han bureaucracy and the rich merchants. Educationally the establishment of the Meidōkan, a school for literature and the military arts, for all han retainers, owed much to the practical application of knowledge emphasized by Yokoi Shōnan. The principal driving force, however, was Hashimoto Sanai. Under his leadership, the Meidōkan achieved nation-wide recognition. Thus, in the last decades of the Tokugawa Shogunate, Fukui by its military, educational, scientific and economic reforms, had laid the necessary foundations to enable the domain to play a major role in national affairs. Generally speaking, the existing literature tends to emphasize the external Western threat as the driving force behind the Fukui reforms. However, internal factors such as economic distress were also important. One possible additional factor not mentioned in the Japanese literature is that Matsudaira Shungaku, obviously not happy with inheriting a fiefdom on the periphery of national politics, wished to build himself a base from which he could enter

THE EARLY YEARS 19

national politics and claim his rightful place at the centre of power. It is perhaps no mere coincidence that both Yokoi, his principal political adviser, and Matsudaira himself were not originally from Echizen and that this perhaps inclined them, to some extent at least, to perceive events from a national rather than a local perspective. Echizen under Matsudaira Shungaku did play a major role in Bakumatsu politics. William Beasley states: Of the domains that played a key part in late Tokugawa politics, five were those of Kunimochi: Satsuma, Chōshū, Tosa, Hizen and Echizen.13 This was largely due to Matsudaira Shungaku’s personal influence as the leading daimyō of Echizen. This came, primarily from his family connections. His support for the Hitotsubashi faction in the struggle over Shogunal succession led to his removal from the position of daimyō at Fukui and to his being placed under house arrest in Kyoto in 1859. At the same time his brilliant retainer, Hashimoto Sanai was executed for intriguing, on Matsudaira’s behalf, at the Emperor’s court in Kyoto.14 Matsudaira was too powerful, or perhaps at least, too useful, to be disposed of permanently and, in 1862, he was appointed Sōsai (supreme councillor or regent) of the Shogunate. He was the principal influential leader of the Kōbugattai movement to unite the Imperial court and the Bakufu to bolster the failing regime and was appointed military commissioner of Kyoto in 1864.15 His successor as daimyō in 1859, Matsudaira Mochizaki, was appointed Fuku Sōtoku (Deputy Commander) of the Bakufu expedition to punish Chōshū in 1864, a recognition of the political and military importance of the Fukui domain. We are fortunate in having an eye witness account of how Fukui would first appear to a foreigner at the time of Katō Kanji’s birth. William Elliot Griffis wrote of Fukui: I was amazed at the utter poverty of the people the contemptible houses and the tumble down look of the city as compared with the trim dwellings of an American town…I realised what a Japanese—an Asiatic city was (and) I was disgusted.16 But it is clear that Fukui was far from being a feudal backwater. After residing there for some years Griffis wrote: I was proud and delighted that my lot was cast in Fukui, a city which in eminence, and intellectual progress was set, as it were, on a hill.17


This statement appears to be based on a genuine knowledge and respect for the achievements of Katō’s birthplace and there can be little doubt that his later assessment was a more accurate one. At the time of Katō’s birth Fukui was undoubtedly one of the most progressive and outward-looking of Japan’s domains. This was, in great part, attributable to the reforming zeal of Matsudaira Shungaku. He remained influential behind the scenes after 1859 since his son actually seems to have been guided, in most things, by his father. What Griffis perhaps failed to note was that Fukui was, in a sense, past its peak in 1871. Griffis did notice the tremendous outflow of talent to the capital at Tokyo. It is important to note, however, that this was accompanied by a gradual exclusion of Fukui people from key positions, a natural consequence of the Satsuma-Chōshū alliance consolidating their domination of the new national government structure, in the first decade of the Meiji (1868–1912) period. Nevertheless, Katō’s parents had grown up, not in some feudal backwater but in the capital of one of Japan’s most progressive domains that was undergoing a rapid and often quite spectacular series of educational, scientific, military and economic reforms as it emerged from feudalism. The interests and education of Katō’s parents and people such as Hashimoto Sanai reflect that special blend of tradition and modernity which produced an outstandingly successful modernization of the han and also of Japan itself in the nineteenth century. Moreover, for a period in the 1920s Fukui men dominated the top naval positions with Okada Keisuke and Katō Kanji successively occupying both the Commander-in Chief of the Combined Fleet and Chief of the Naval General Staff positions. Okada went on to become Navy Minister and in the 1930s Prime Minister thus placing Fukui men briefly in key positions in national naval affairs and in politics in general. KATŌ’S FATHER Katō’s Father, Katō Naokata, was born in 1830 in Fukui, the fourth son of Katō Tsunekatsu, leader of one of Fukui’s samurai Nagae kumigashira (spear squadron).18 The Katō family traced its lineage back ‘by hoary legend’ to the Fujiwara family being an offshoot of the Tōyama line of the family. The Katō line was established in the reign of Oda Nobunaga (1534–82). The head of the fifth generation was the first to have been born in Echizen, in 1615. The family were ranked as lower samurai and held minor positions with the feudal lord, both in Fukui and at the daimyō’s Edo residence.19 When the Katō family stipend reached 24 koku plus a four-man rice stipend in 1711, the head of the sixth generation occupied the posts of Edo yashiki

THE EARLY YEARS 21

bugyō (Edo mansion administra-tor) and bugubugyō (chief armourer). Many of the family also saw service with the daimyō’s ōban (grand guard). Naokata’s father, Katō’s grandfather, had raised the family holding to 100 koku-well above the average-samurai holding at that time.20 But, Naokata, as the fourth son, inherited nothing and was forced to seek service with the daimyō and also to set up his own household. Although Katō’s official biography makes much of Katō Naokata’s importance in Fukui naval development there is almost no mention of him in the various local histories. Indeed, so far, only one recent, short biographical sketch of him appeared. This, to a great extent, is a paraphrase of the official Katō Kanji biography and significantly shows a photograph purporting to be Naokata which is, in fact, one of Katō Kanji. 21 Naokata was apparently ‘massive in physique, generous, discrete and of a gentle nature’. He was educated in the traditional samurai arts, though no clear details remain. It is likely, however, that he attended the Seigidō school the precursor of the more famous Meidōkan. Only one piece of writing by Naokata remains (presumably written around the time of the arrival of Perry’s black ships). It concerns the growing naval threat to Japan from Western naval powers. On seeing these ships, the biography states, Naokata ‘suddenly understood’ stating: Geographically our country is situated close to China and Russia. Since we are isolated in the Eastern Sea, when we encounter national difficulties, we must rely on naval power. Now, when our country is beset with domestic and foreign difficulties in rapid succession this is not the time for our country to remain isolated.22 From the arrival of Perry’s ships in 1853, Naokata devoted his life to naval matters. Naokata’s decision came at a crucial time when both the Bakufu and the various han were feverishly building and buying Western-style naval vessels to combat the Western threat. The Bakufu established a Kaigun Denshūjo (Naval Training Institute) at Nagasaki in 1857 where shogunal retainers and certain selected han retainers were to be trained.23 Naokata was one of those selected for the Fukui contingent. Training at the Nagasaki school was carried out by Dutch officers. On completion of his training, Naokata was ordered to return to the han as gunkankata (warship instructor) and was placed in charge of construction of the Kottoru, Fukui’s first Western-style ship. He served at this time in the domain’s construction bureau where Sasaki Gonroku and Yuri Kimimasa were Chief and Deputy Chief respectively. In 1860 he went for further study at the Bakufu’s newly-


established Kaigun Sōrenjo (Naval Training Establishment) at Edo where he studied navigation and seamanship under the guidance of Katsu Kaishū, one of the great figures of the Bakumatsu and early Meiji navy. Naokata idolized Katsu Kaishū who, at this time had just completed the famous Pacific crossing to the United States by a Japanese crew on the Kanrin Maru. Naokata studied hard and the official biography gives a graphic description of the difficulties and great efforts that culminated in a distinguished career in the naval service of his han and in the Imperial Japanese Navy where he achieved the rank of lieutenant. Katō’s last appointments were at the Tōkai Suihei Honei (Eastern Sea Marine Headquarters) at Yokosuka. For Katō Kanji being the son of a serving naval officer was not unhelpful in securing a naval education although in fact there is evidence that, given Katō’s frailty as a child, his father actually had tried to dissuade him from entering the navy and suggested instead a career in medicine. KATŌ’S MOTHER Katō’s mother Sumako (1844–1926) was, even allowing for the excessive praise common in official biographies, a quite remarkable woman. She was the second daughter of Tomita Rōho, one of Fukui’s leading teachers in the military arts. Her brother, Tomita Atsumi, was a Confucian scholar, poet, bureaucrat and founder of Fukui’s first newspaper, the Satsuyo Shinbun. Sumako, Katō’s biographers tell us, received a thorough training from her father and had clearly been raised in an intellectual atmosphere, steeped in tradition. Sumako also showed considerable talent for arithmetic and also, interestingly, English. According to Katō’s biographers, she studied English at the house of an English missionary. No clear dates are given but it was around 1870–71. In all probability, her teacher was Alfred Lucy who had arrived in Fukui some months before the more famous E.W. Griffis.24 English teaching in Fukui was yet another manifestation of Matsudaira Shungaku’s desire to import Western knowledge into the han. Katō’s mother became, albeit briefly, a teacher of arithmetic and English in Fukui. She must have been one of the very first women teachers of English in the han. Combined with Katō’s father being able to speak Dutch, it is perhaps no coincidence that Katō Kanji himself manifested a strong interest in foreign languages. When the new primary education system was introduced in 1873 Sumako taught, first as a kyōjukata tetsudai (teaching assistant) then as a jokyō (assistant teacher) at Ashiba Gun Da-ni Jōji Shōgaku (Ashiba District No. 2 Girls Primary School). Regarding her promotion to jokvō Katō Kanji’s biographers wrote as follows:

THE EARLY YEARS 23

…Sumako, while bringing up Kanji aged four, engaged in the teaching of children. She possessed determination and was extremely reliable. She was exceedingly noble. When she taught the students she was kind, meticulous and patient and due to her diligence she was promoted to be an assistant teacher within a month 14/2/1873.25 In November 1873, the family moved to Tokyo because of the father’s naval duties, and in 1878 they moved to Yokosuka. In 1881, with the death of her husband, Sumako was left to care for her four sons and one daughter. Naokata had had, as well as a naval salary, a rice allowance from the Meiji government. This terminated on Naokata’s death and the family were left in dire financial straits. An additional problem was that Naokata had been a ‘typical military type’ and ‘did not leave behind for his descendants, sufficient for their means’. In fact, Naokata had ‘spent the greater part of his salary (all according to one source) on drinking with friends’.26 Katō’s mother moved the family from Yokosuka to Tokyo and immediately erected a small sign offering to do sewing and laundering. Even in such a difficult situation, Sumako placed great emphasis on education both formal and informal. She saw to it that Kanji was able to attend the naval preparatory school, the Kōgyokusha and her dearest wish was to see him enter the Kaigun Heigakkō (Naval Academy). Katō stated in later life: Even today my younger brother and I often talk about those days and we cannot speak without shedding tears for the hardships faced by mother. In those days, my mother even did laundry for students. If I woke up in the dead of night, especially winter nights, she would be there, sitting alone, without a heater, sewing in conditions that would have frozen my fingers to the bone. It was awful.27 Katō went on to say that they dared not ask for school materials, paper, etc. for they knew this would necessitate her working even harder. Because of her sacrifice, he stated that he was determined ‘to do whatever would please my mother’. HASHIMOTO SANAI The third influential figure in Katō’s childhood development was undoubtedly Hashimoto Sanai (Keigaku). Hashimoto had been a brilliant young Fukui student who had taken over his father’s medical practice (including smallpox vaccination) in Fukui. He was well versed in yōgaku (Western learning) through his training in Dutch medicine and was also


steeped in Eastern learning through the Mito school.28 He was influential along with Yokoi Shōnan and Yuri Kimimasa in bringing about the economic scientific and military development of Fukui han, but his major contribution was in education. He was brought back to Fukui to instruct at the newly-established Meidōkan in 1856. His work there along would have guaranteed Hashimoto a secure place in Fukui local history. It was, however, his service to his feudal lord Matsudaira Shungaku, in national politics especially over Shogunal succession and his execution in the Ansei purge of 1859 which ensured lasting fame for the young retainer in both local and national politics. He was, particularly in the pre-war period, revered as a prime example of sacrifice for the sake of the lord, a true ‘loyalist’. Katō, the biographers state, actually began reading the works of Hashimoto at the age of twelve. However, it seems likely that Katō’s mother instructed him regarding the basics of Hashimoto’s writings rather earlier as part of his informal moral and ethical training since Hashimoto’s writings were kept in the Katō home. The first text read by Katō, and the one which remained his favourite and is quoted in full in the official biography was Keihatsuroku (Notes on Enlightenment) written by Hashimoto in 1848 when he was only fifteen. It essentially concerns the correct behaviour for boys and young men. Katō’s biographers devoted considerable attention to the influence of Hashimoto as a key influence on Katō throughout his life. KATŌ’S CHILDHOOD AND EARLY EDUCATION Katō was born in Kōdōgu-cho (now Toyoshima naka-chō) in Fukui City. He was the eldest son of Naokata and Sumako. Despite a seemingly sturdy appearance at birth, his physical condition in his infant years was exceedingly feeble. His mother despite her heavy domestic duties took him every morning to the bank of the Ashiba river and bathed him. This is reputed to have strengthened his physique and Katō later was able to pass the extremely rigorous physical examination for the Naval Academy. As a child, we are told, Katō possessed a rather obstinate nature and tended to be impetuously dauntless.29 Having moved up to the Tokyo area at the age of five, a move dictated by his father’s naval work, Katō began receiving preparatory lessons from his mother at home. She taught him Chinese characters and also taught him calligraphy and arithmetic.30 Being the daughter of a samurai, and a former teacher herself, she was very strict but Katō apparently responded well. In 1877 at the age of six, Katō commenced primary school at Mita School in Tokyo. This was one of the sixteen primary schools established in Tokyo

THE EARLY YEARS 25

prefecture by the new Meiji government. It is stated that, due to the efforts of his mother, he did very well at the school. It was at this school that he met up with Abō Kiyokazu who became a lifelong friend, colleague in the navy and chief compiler of Katō’s biography. EARLY FORMATIVE INFLUENCES: A REASSESSMENT Secondary materials on Katō in Japanese, generally omit or pass quickly over the formative influences, deeming them obvious or perhaps irrelevant for a Japanese readership. Stephen Pelz and Asada Sadao, as well as commenting on formative influences on Katō in their writings on naval arms limitation, have also written biographical essays on Katō Kanji.31 There, implicitly and more often explicitly, they have indicated what they feel to have been the crucial formative influences. Since their writings have been widely read they are worthy of consideration and evaluation here. Both scholars, by numerous references, have attempted to portray Katō as a simple-minded traditionalist, a sort of seagoing samurai although their later writings have to some extent acknowledged his considerable knowledge of Western technology. Stephen Pelz describes Katō in the following way: Katō seems to have been a straightforward type of sailor. He had a traditional background: his father had commanded a squad of samurai spear-bearers in the feudal domain of Fukui, and Katō had received training in the traditional warrior virtues. Furthermore, he was influenced as a youth by a samurai teacher who had taken part in the Meiji Restoration.32 Here, by a judicious use of terminology such as ‘samurai’, ‘feudal’ ‘warrior’ and the repetition of ‘traditional’ Pelz has woven a web for the unsuspecting reader. Leaving aside the dubious value of such an approach what can one say of the assumptions and facts contained in the above description. Pelz singles out as formative influences, ‘the feudal domain of Fukui’, a father who led a ‘squad of samurai spear-bearers’ and a ‘samurai teacher’ influential on the young Katō who had received ‘training in the traditional warrior virtues’. Fukui, as previously noted, was something more than a feudal domain. It was one of the most progressive, forward-looking domains in midnineteenth century Japan and had made considerable progress in the direction of economic, military, scientific and educational modernization. Fukui abolished the last of its spear-bearer squads in 1855 and Katō’s father had


dedicated his life to naval affairs before that date. Katō Kanji received his schooling in Tokyo in the late 1870s and most certainly did not receive training in the traditional warrior virtues through the formal educational system. The teacher who most influenced Katō in his youth was, according to his biographers, Hashimoto Sanai who died almost a decade before the Meiji Restoration of 1868. Katō most certainly would have been taught, like most other children in Tokyo at the time, by men of former samurai status and they would have participated in the Restoration wars. In fact, although Pelz extracted the information from Katō’s official biography he made a fundamental error. What Pelz assumed to be a description of Katō was actually a comment on his father, Katō Naokata. Thus is was Katō’s grandfather who led the squad of spear-bearers, Katō’s father who received training in the traditional warrior virtues etc. Asada Sadao’s writings on Katō Kanji who have the same propensity as Pelz for emotive terminology of a negative nature but he comments differently on Katō Naokata. In an essay on Katō Kanji Asada stated: ‘It was perhaps natural then that Kanji (sic) followed his father’s speciality and was to become President of the Gunnery School.’33 It is by no means clear whether Asada has inferred that Naokata’s specialism was gunnery from the fact that he ended his career in the position of Chief Gunner or whether he is simply restating the conclusions reached by Itō Kinjirō.34 Whichever the source it is obviously erroneous since Naokata’s specialism was navigation, his last appointment not-withstanding. Katō Kanji probably inclined to gunnery because, for much of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, gunnery science was the key subject for talented young students and the most effective path to high rank in all navies.35 What both writers have in common is a tendency to see the father as a, if not the, key formative influence. The official biography states that Katō inherited from his father a sense of fairness and gentleness. Naokata had, on seeing the feeble physique of the young Katō Kanji, attempted to steer him away from the navy and towards medicine as a career. Katō, apparently, pleaded with his mother who in turn persuaded Naokata to change his mind. This is the only evidence of any direct attempt by the father to influence the son and it failed. Certainly, Naokata’s distinguished service to his domain and to the national government provided Katō with a clearly defined role model to follow. There seems little doubt in the mind of mother or son that Katō Kanji would join the Japanese Navy. At the time Katō was of age to apply for a place in naval educational establishments, the competition of the naval preparatory schools and the naval academy was intensifying. To have a father as a serving officer would have had some advantages for entry but

THE EARLY YEARS 27

after that ability was the key criterion for success. Thus, Katō probably did gain some advantages regarding entry through family connections, motivation and possibly educational guidance. There persisits a widespread belief that:’…the samurai father was more central than the middle class father today. He was at home more, he had a stronger position in the home… he was a direct role model.’36 It may well be rather overstating the case or perhaps even misleading to ascribe too much influence to Katō Naokata other than as a role model. Naokata was away from home for long periods and died when Katō was very young. Naokata. so far can be gleaned from the available literature, seems to have completely abdicated his teaching role to his wife, Sumako. He did have a capacity in foreign languages, considerable technical ability and great dedication to his profession. He did have a traditional background but there is no evidence of him being in any kind of dilemma over Eastern or Western values or of a strong inclination towards traditional Japanese values. Katō’s biographers devoted considerable attention to the career of Katō Naokata and this may have been in part convention which others have simply echoed. However, one feels, too, that materials written during the Pacific War would have, in any case, tended to glorify any military exploits and influences concerning the immediate family of figures such as Katō who were being held up as models for young Japanese at the time. Neither Pelz nor Asada pay much attention to the influence of Hashimoto Sanai except possibly as a ‘feudal influence’ by a samurai patriot. But it would be wrong to regard Hashimoto Sanai as merely a ‘feudal’ influence. Like Katō’s parents and the domain in which they all lived, Hashimoto showed that blend of ‘traditional’ and ‘modern’ values which characterized successive generations in modern Japan. Hashimoto’s most famous phrase was: ‘We shall take the machines and techniques from them but we have our own ethics and morals’.37 But despite the many rich strands in Hashimoto’s writings it was probably his attitude to traditional values and his heroic sacrifice which left a lasting impression on Katō. In addition, Hashimoto had written a highly influential essay on the education of young men and Katō Kanji went on to occupy all the top educational as well as command posts in the Imperial Japanese Navy. Throughout his life Katō played an important and continuing role in the remembrance society dedicated to the memory of Hashimoto Sanai finally assuming the position of President in 1930, the year he sacrificed his own career for his principles. In addition to being an obvious tribute to Hashimoto, membership of this society was also a highly efffective way of keeping in touch with people from Fukui since the society


functioned as a meeting place in Tokyo for politicians, intellectuals and students hailing from Katō’s birthplace, Fukui. Perhaps the most serious omission of Pelz and Asada, in terms of analysing formative influences on Katō, is their failure to appreciate the contribution by his mother, Sumako. If it is possible to distinguish a clear formative influence it must surely be this rather exceptional woman. Sumako was, as stated previously, a rather remarkable woman, even by the very high standards required of daughters of samurai. Yet her influence has been almost entirely ignored in secondary works. It is clear that from Katō’s official biographers, and indeed for Katō himself, there was no doubt as to the considerable influence that Sumako exercised over her son, especially in his formative years. Ivan Hall in an excellent biographical study of Mori Arinori, has provided an invaluable analysis of the role of the traditional samurai mother. In a section appropriately labelled ‘Like Mother Like Son’, he convincingly demonstrates the maternal influence on Japanese boys. He states: …as a strict disciplinarian, and as a chief transmitter of the traditional system to her offspring, Osato (Mori’s mother) was merely conforming to a widespread pattern.38 He went on to say: …nor were the values of a masculine stamp unknown to girls of a samurai family. She was clearly the chief influence in moulding the ideals and supervising the early training of her children.39 According to Katō’s biographers all the above could easily have been written of Sumako. She appeared to have had all the ideal attributes of discipline, intelligence, affection and patience. The fact that she was the samurai daughter of a famous teacher of the military arts as well as the sister of a Confucian scholar, poet and publisher, may also mean she had perhaps even greater immersion in and understanding of traditional values than was the norm. Her traditional training in morals and ethics by her father were undoubtedly, as in other cases, passed on efficiently to her offspring. As Mishima Michiharu wrote: …the ethics and morals courses at school merely put me to sleep. I have no recollection of what I learned there. Such ethical feelings as I possess were imparted to me by my mother and grandmother in an atmosphere of maternal love.40

THE EARLY YEARS 29

Thus Katō may, as Pelz stated, have received an education in the traditional warrior virtues but at his mother’s knee not in school from a former samurai. However, Sumako was not simply a welleducated traditionalist. She reared Katō in what was clearly a transitional period in Japan’s development as a modern state. Sumako showed considerable practical skills and adaptability. For example, she was skilled at both traditional needlework and the making of Western clothes. Her teaching skills were in arithmetic and English, key elements to be passed on to children coping with the assimilation of Western scientific and technological knowledge. Katō was also skilled in these areas and this must have been more than mere coincidence. The official biography tells us that Katō inherited from his mother’s open-heartedness, patience and meticulousness and also like his mother he loved righteousness. Yet these seem only a small portion of what she bequeathed her son. Katō, in later years, like his mother, took a great interest in education. His debt to her, in almost every area of his develop-ment, seems quite remarkable. Her educational background, traditional and modern, her exceptional qualities as a dedicated mother and teacher and her willingness to learn English and other things from the West, were probably of greater importance than any intellectual stimulus he might have gained from the father. There seems little doubt in the minds of Katō’s biographers, Katō himself, and confirmed to the author by Katō’s son Hirokazu, that Sumako was the principal source of many of Katō’s better qualities. It is difficult to imagine a mother better suited to preparing a son for developing an appreciation of both Eastern and Western values to a young boy. Katō’s mother died in Yokosuka aged 83. Katō by then had risen to flag rank as Admiral Superintendent of the Navy Yard at Yokosuka and Sumako lived with Katō and his family at the official residence. Thus, one can imagine that, at least in her case, given the success of her eldest son, her sacrifice had been worthwhile. In a letter to two friends after the funeral he wrote: Thank you for your kind condolences on the death of my mother. My mother was 83 so I don’t regret her age, she lived long enough. But for 46 years after my father’s death she was always in difficult straits and yet, under those conditions, she brought me up to reach this position. So, I wanted to repay her for what she did for me but she died before I could do enough and this grieves me exceedingly…however with the sympathies of many people I was able to give her a good funeral and that makes me a little happier…41


As a young officer, Katō had always sent messages and money to his mother on every possible occasion. For this reason, he became known in the fleet as Haha omoi no Katō, (the Katō who deeply cares about his mother). She lived out her last years in Katō’s house, under the devoted care of her son and his wife and saw her son reach Flag rank in the navy. The influences resulting from being born in a progressive domain, the son of progressive, talented broad-minded parents with interests beyond Fukui and the role model and intellectual influences provided by Hashimoto Sanai, leave little doubt that Katō was, in many ways, a true son of Fukui and even less doubt that these were key influences throughout his life. It does seem a great pity that the existing analyses in English tend to overemphasize the narrowly feudal influences with the result that one is presented with an oversimplified, inaccurate stereotype of Katō based on a questionable interpretation of childhood influences. This does scant justice to such a rich heritage and especially neglects the blending of traditional values and modern technology. Notes 1 Katō Kanji Taishō Denki Hensankai, Katō Kanji Taishō Den, (Tokyo, 1941). (Hereafter referred to in all notes as KKD). 2 Albert Craig, ‘Introduction’, in Albert Craig and Donald Shively (eds.), Personality in Japanese History, (Berkeley, 1970), p. 11. 3 ibid., p. 6. 4 An example of this is the ‘heroic biography’ (ijin den) style of writing. It resembles the historical novel (rekishi shosetsu) in that it contains numerous re-created ‘conversations’ and the like and these, in toto, create a moral or other message. A book in this vein written for youths is Kunieda Kanji, Katō Kanji Taishō Den (Tokyo, 1944). There are of course also popular writers who write of great men, (Jimbutsu) in Japanese history. 5 I was able to see this memorial thanks to the hospitality of Professor Takahashi Sankichi and Professor Mikami Kazuo who provided accommodation and a tour of Fukui in 1980. 6 op. cit., Craig and Shively, p. 7. 7 There is considerable debate as to the actual population at this time and wide discrepancies in the figures given. The best discussion is to be found in Edward R Beauchamp, An American Teacher in Early Meiji Japan, (Hawaii, 1976), p. 35ff. See also William Fruin, Labor Migration in Nineteenth Century Japan, Ph.D., (Stanford University, 1973), especially for population data on Fukui in early Meiji Japan. However caution should be exercised regarding Fruin’s grasp of early Fukui (Echizen) history. 8 ibid., Beauchamp, p. 35. 9 A good general history is Kanemaki Kunio, Fukui Ken no Rekishi, (Tokyo, 1979).

THE EARLY YEARS 31

10 An excellent general history of late Bakufu Echizen is Mikami Kazuo, Bakumatsu no Echizen Han, (Fukui, 1974). For Matsudaira’s later reforming efforts at the han and national levels see Mikami Kazuo, Kōbugattairon no Kenkyū: Echizen Bakumatsu_Ishinshi Bunseki, (Tokyo, 1979). This monograph contains a wealth of bibliographic data on Fukui history. For a good overview of economic reforms see Mikami Kazuo, ‘Bakumatsu ni okeru Echizen Han no Fukokusaku ni tsuite: Yuri Kimimasa no Chisaku O chūshin ni’, Nihon Rekishi, No. 241 (June 1968), pp. 91– 107. For military reforms see his ‘Echizen no Kyohei Seisaku ni tsuite: Kaibō Seisaku to Yoshiki iki Kogyo o chushin ni Wakaetsu Kyōdo Kenkyū’, Vol. 12, No. 3, (1967), pp. 41–54. 11 A good English summary and analysis of Fukui’s reforms and the Western impact is Grant K. Goodman, The Dutch Impact on Japan (1649–1853), (Leiden, 1967), Chapter 13, especially pp. 158–159. 12 Yokoi Shōnan (1809–1869) an advocate of reforms of the Bakufu system and had considerable influence on ideas of anti-Bakufu groups. He became a Sanyō in the early Meiji government. Yuri Kimimasa (1829–1909) a finance specialist was also linked with the anti-Bakufu movement and held senior posts in the early Meiji government. He was involved in drafting the Charter Oath but little involved in national government affairs after the first years of the Meiji period. For Hashimoto Sanai see George M. Wilson The Bakumatsu Intellectual in Action: Hashimoto Sanai in the Political Crisis of 1858’, in op. cit., Craig and Shively, pp. 234–263. However Wilson errs in stating (Note 2, p. 235), that the only post-war biography in Japanese was published in 1962. There is also Nomura Eiichi, Hashimoto Sanai, (Fukui, 1970) 13 William G Beasley, The Meiji Restoration, (London, 1973), p. 24. 14 see op. cit., Wilson for details. 15 A detailed analysis is to be found in Mikami Kazuo Kōbugattairon no Kenkyū: Echizen Bakumatsu Ishinshi Bunseki. (Tokyo, 1979). 16 op. cit., Beauchamp, p. 35. 17 ibid., p. 36. 18 Details on Katō’s father are taken from the official biography op. cit., KKD, p. 48– 72 and also Fukui Shinbunsha (eds.), Fukui Jinbutsu Fudōki~ (Fukui, 1973) pp. 174–179. A detailed search of numerous local histories failed to turn up further information on Naokata. 19 For a detailed analysis of the Sankin Kōtai, (Edo residence system) see T. G. Tsukahira, Feudal Control in Tokugawa Japan: The Sankin Kōtai System, (Cambridge, Mass., 1966). 20 Kanai Madōka in ‘Fukui, the Domain of a Tokugawa Collateral Daimyō: Its Tradition and Transition’, states that in the Bakumatsu period 25 koku was above average in this area even for samurai (cited in op. cit., Wilson, p. 235, note 2). 21 op. cit., Fukui Shinbunsha (eds.), p. 174 and p. 180. 22 op. cit., KKD, p. 49 23 David Evans, ‘The Satsuma Faction and Professionalism in the Japanese Naval Officer corps of the Meiji Period’, Ph.D, (Stanford University, 1978), p. 12. 24 op. cit., KDD, p. 72. Alfred Lucy was not a missionary but an English teacher. For details of his career in Japan see the relevant entry in Umetani Noburo, Oyatoi Gaikokuiin, (Tokyo 1965). op. cit., Beauchamp gives brief details. 25 op. cit. KDD, p. 75.


26 Kuribayashi Yoshimitsu, ‘Yondai no Gunkan Kōshinkyoku’, Sandei Mainichi, 16/ 10.77, pp. 134–135 (op. cit., KDD, p. 75). This article recounts the four generations of the Katō family including a grandson who is a captain in the Maritime Self Defence forces. The grandson at first agreed and then declined to be interviewed. 27 op. cit., KDD, pp. 78–79. 28 The Mitogaku (Mito School of (history) was very influential in the Bakumatsu period and the Meidōkan was reputed to be modelled on the Kodokan Academy of Tokugawa Nariaki in Mito. Hashimoto had a very high opinion of the latter. op. cit., Wilson, p. 239. 29 ibid. KKD p. 86. 30 ibid., p. 86. 31 Asada Sadao, ‘Japanese Admirals and the Politics of Naval Arms Limitation: Katō Tomosaburo vs Katō Kanji’, in Gerald Jordan (ed.), Naval Warfare in the 20th Century: Essays in Honour of Arthur Marder, (London, 1977); Stephen Pelz, ‘Japan’s Revolt against World Order 1931–38’, paper presented at Association for Asian Studies, (New York, March 1972), and The Good Empire: Japan’s New Order at Home and Abroad’, Occasional Paper No. 1, Asian Studies Committee, (University of Massachusetts at Amherst, 1978). 32 Stephen Pelz, Race to Pearl Harbor: The Failure of the Second London Naval Conference and the Onset of World War II, (Cambridge, Mass., 1974), p. 27. 33 op. cit., Asada, (1977), p. 142 34 Itō Kinjirō, Ikiteiru Taishō Katō Kanji, (Tokyo, 1942), p. 107. 35 Ken Booth, Navies and Foreign Policy, (New York, 1979), p. 133. 36 Albert Craig ‘Kido Kōin and Okubo Tashimichi: A Psycho-historical Analysis’, in op. cit., Craig and Shively, p. 279. 37 Numata Hirō, ‘Acceptance and Rejection of Elements of European Culture in Japan’ Cahiers d’histoire Mondiale Vol. 3 Mo. 1, (1956), p. 241. (cited in op. cit., Wilson, p. 238.) 38 Ivan Hall, Mori Arinori, (Cambridge, Mass., 1972), p. 28. 39 ibid., pp. 26–27. 40 ibid., p. 28 41 op. cit., KDD, p. 81.

CHAPTER 2 Naval Career, 1882–1920: From Student to Naval Academy President

NAVAL EDUCATION IN NINETEENTH-CENTURY JAPAN Japan as an island nation had naturally developed considerable naval expertise. By the early seventeenth century, just prior to introducing an isolationist policy which effectively closed Japan to outside influence, its naval technology was in no way inferior to the maritime powers of the West. Indeed, there were even early efforts to construct a national navy. The decision to ban the construction and even possession of ocean-going craft and the instructions to put to death any sailors landing on Japanese soil was to effectively destroy that naval tradition. In the early seventeenth century, given the nature of ship technology, this presented no threat to Japan from Western powers. However, by closing Japan to all but the small Dutch settlement at Deshima, the 200 years’s isolation of Japan meant that it missed out on the great advancements in maritime science and the result was that the waters around Japan increasingly were transformed from a shield into a highway along which the great Western maritime powers could threaten and even attack Japan. By the mid-nineteenth century the Shogunate was increasingly helpless in the face of continued approaches by Western maritime powers and the result was that Bakufu’s weakening control of internal affairs resulted in them permitting the various domains to develop Western-style vessels and training and the Bakufu itself, faced with what was effectively a domestic naval arms race, inevitably made efforts to develop a national navy for both internal and indeed external security purposes. The army could draw on the samurai tradition but the emerging domain and national navies would have to train officers and men from scratch and naturally leaned heavily on foreign powers initially and naturally started with the Dutch.1


In 1854 a Captain Fabius and other Dutch staff began instructing retainers from both the Bakufu and some of the domains. In 1855 a Kaigun Denshūjio (naval training establishment) was established at Nagasaki and another Dutch team began teaching there. The students were from the Bakufu, including the fudai and even tozama domains, and received training in maths, navigation, ship construction gunnery and seamanship. A second Netherlands detachment arrived in 1857 and stayed until March 1859 when Dutch tuition of Japanese naval personnel came to an end. Japanese students who had studied under the Dutch established a new naval school at Tsukiji near Edo (Tokyo) in 1857. It was first called the Gunkan Kyōjujo (Warship Teaching Institute) and shortly afterwards renamed the Kaigun Sōrenjo (Navy Training Institute). In 1859 the Nagasaki training establishment closed, the students were transferred to Tsukiji and the Dutch instructors left Japan. Shortage of funds was officially given as the reason for releasing the foreign instructors but it is more probable that the Japanese were dissatisfied with the level of instruction and moreover were becoming more confident of their own abilities. In 1860 a Japanese mission to the United States boarded the Japanesecrewed Kanrin Maru and sailed across the Pacific. This was a major achievement and is often singled out as proof of how quickly the Japanese had learned the art of oceanic navigation but there was considerable American assistance from a United States Navy lieutenant and nine American sailors during the voyage.2 The trans-Pacific voyage of the Kanrin Maru was a crucial stage in Japan’s development of practical training in the art of seamanship. In 1863 the Bakufu sent students abroad for naval training and, no doubt reflecting in part the assistance furnished during the Kanrin Maru’s voyage, the United States was selected as the most suitable country. At this time the American Civil War prevented such an arrangement and instead the students were sent to Holland. Amongst the students was Enomoto Takeaki (1836–1908) who was to occupy high positions in the Bakufu and early Meiji navy. Katsu Kaishū headed a short-lived Kaigun Sōrenjo at Hyogo from 1863 to 1864 but this ran into political difficulties.3 At the various training establishments Bakufu retainers mixed with men from the other domains. Much has been made of this in terms of breaking down narrow regional loyalties and creating a national consciousness. In 1866 Frenchmen were hired as naval instructors at the Tsukiji (or Edo) Kaigun Denshūijo and in 1867 Katsu Kaishū (1823–99) was appointed head of the school. He intended to hire Dutch instructors but, due to the efforts of the British minister, Sir Harry Parkes, British instructors were hired instead. The British had in fact been asked to train the Bakufu army but had delayed

1882–1921 FROM STUDENT TO NAVAL ACADEMY PRESIDENT 35

answering the request allowing the French to take this role. Parkes clearly saw that tutoring the navy was a means of offsetting French influence within the Japanese government. Consequently, in November 1867, a mission under Lt Cdr Richard Tracey took up duties at Tsukiji and remained there until March 1868 when British neutrality during the Restoration War made it impossible for teaching to continue. During the 1860s the Bakufu had made intermittent efforts to lay the foundations for a navy, by purchasing foreign vessels and training personnel at home and overseas. They were also keen to nurture indigenous shipbuilding skills and plan the expansion and reorganization of naval defences. In 1861 the Bakufu had constructed a Western-style ship at Nagasaki and had asked the lords of various domains for their advice on military reforms. In 1862 the Edo government had considered a report that called for a navy of 370 ships, 61,000 men and six coastal defence districts. Naval developments on this scale were, however, beyond the government’s already strained resources. The shelling of Chōshū and Satsuma by Western warships in 1863 and 1864 was a further reminder of Japan’s vulnerability to Western naval power. A number of minor administrative reforms were carried out in the next few years and a significant development was the construction of a naval dockyard at Yokosuka commencing in 1865. This was done with the assistance of the French designer Verney and the yard was modelled on Toulouse. French instructors appeared at Tsukiji in the following year and this marked the high point in French naval influence in the Bakumatsu era. The first years of the Meiji era were ones where the navy found its growth greatly constrained by the government’s financial difficulties. Furthermore, the greater part of available funds was devoted to the army. This shortage of funds was one reason for initially placing greater emphasis on training rather than purchasing ships at this time. However, Japan’s naval leaders were only too aware that Western-style warships presented formidable challenges, not only in terms of technology but also in human organization. Feudal ranking was no basis for crew selection aboard naval craft that represented the latest in technology. In October 1870 an imperial decree stated that:’…the present standing forces are to be organized on the British model for naval forces and the French model for land forces.’4 From this time on, English language, the history and customs and maritime tradition of England were officially approved objects of study. The choice of the Royal Navy as a model was only partially due to her position as the world’s paramount naval power. Prior to the civil war the Shogunate had engaged Royal Navy staff and had


held them in high regard. Furthermore, naval men in Satsuma and Saga, key domains in the new national navy, had been studying the Royal Navy for many years. At the time the decision was made the Japanese Navy was employing a Lt Albert Hawes RM as an instructor and HMS Audacious had taken on two Japanese midshipmen in 1870. Finally, the offer of the opportunity to give instruction to the Japanese army and navy respectively to France and Britain may have possibly been seen as part of a strategy to encourage these countries to remove their garrisons from Japan. In 1870 the Kaigun Heigakkō (Naval Academy) was established at Tsukiji but there were serious problems. The courses were too theoretical, too bookish and the Japanese instructors lacked sufficient experience. In 1871 twelve students were sent to England but the Admiralty was unable to offer them places at Royal Navy establishments and they were assigned to merchant navy instructors. Some did eventually serve as midshipmen in the Royal Navy. The most famous of these was Tōgō Heihachirō who served aboard the training ship Worcester of the Thames Nautical School and was to become the ‘Nelson of Japan’.5 In 1873 the Navy Minister petitioned his government for permission to hire a naval training mission from Britain and in 1873 an agreement was signed. Six British officers, five petty officers and twenty-three ratings were sent for a period of three years. The mission was under a Commander Archibald Lucius Douglas and came to be known as the Douglas Mission.6 British influence was also evident in the setting up of an engineering school and improvements in the naval medical service and represented a considerable step towards modern professional naval officer training. In the 1880s the navy began planning for more advanced postgraduate study. The result was the transfer of the Naval Academy to Etajima and the establishment of the Kaigun Daigakkō (Naval War College) at Tsukiji. In 1886 the Japanese again turned to Britain for assistance and Captain John Ingles was selected to assist in the development of higher and technical naval education. The employment of naval officers from abroad was only one means of educating the Japanese Navy in this period. Initially they experimented with sending a number of personnel abroad to serve on the naval ships and in the naval colleges of the great Western naval Powers. This, in the early Meiji period, was regarded as a substitute for training within Japan but this practice was soon discontinued. Schooling within Japan became mandatory but it had limitations in that it was said to be overly academic. Japan’s naval planners were thus faced with two choices for newly-graduated personnel. The first was to send them abroad to serve on foreign vessels. This proved inadequate in that the numbers who could be trained in this way were small and it was an


expensive process. Also the training proved very arduous for young Japanese trying to learn shipboard skills on a foreign vessel and in a foreign language. The second possibility was to send young students graduating from the Naval Academy on cruises aboard Japanese ships staffed by Academy instructors. This idea is generally credited to Commander Douglas and the first cruise was carried out in 1875 aboard the corvette Tsukuba which sailed to Hawaii and San Francisco. The range, length and number of cruises was gradually expanded and more and more modern ships were used. The objectives of the cruises went beyond intensive and practical training. They also gave opportunities for the direct study of foreign languages and cultures that, whilst obviously broadening students’ minds, also provided opportunities for intelligence-gathering of a very basic kind. Naval education was premised on the existence of a fleet of modern ships, and naval planners continually struggled for increased funds and prestige for the navy and its role in national defence. KATŌ ENTERS THE NAVAL ACADEMY On 18 September 1882, Katō entered the Academy on the preparatory course. On 12 September 1887, he joined the main course as a member of class 18. The school moved to Etajima in 1888 and the Tsukiji facilities were used for the newly-established Kaigun Daigakkō (Naval War College). In 1889 Katō received a special award for excellence in the sciences and was promoted to nigō seito (student second class), nigō seitochō (class leader for all second class students) and daigoban butai buchō (no. 5 house leader). He went on to win more prizes and was rapidly promoted to ichigō seitochō (class leader of all first class students) and dai niban butaichō (no. 2 house leader). Katō was regarded as a model student and, probably for that reason, he was appointed official companion to Imperial Prince Fushimi Hiroyasu who was then a student at the Academy. At the end of May 1891 he took his final exams. They included gunnery, practical seamanship, torpedo science, navigation, engineering and a general paper. He graduated at the top of his class receiving a special award. His class at the Academy produced two full admirals, six vice-admirals and three admirals. Katō emerged from Etajima with the prime qualification for rapid advancement to high rank in the Imperial Navy of late Meiji namely a high placing at the Naval Academy. The appointment of Yamamoto Gonnohyōe as Navy Minister before the RussoJapanese War was to result in efforts to eradicate the influence of hanbatsu (regional cliques) in the upper echelons of the navy and develop a more


meritocratic system. This latter system became known as toppubatsu (top of the class cliques) and comprised those finishing high up in exams at Etajima.7 One interesting event at the Academy sheds light on Katō’s courage, determination, dedication to the navy and willingness to seek out Western scientific knowledge. During his time as a student Katō became very ill with pleurisy. This possibly reflected the rigours of Etajima life on Katō, perhaps exposing some residual weaknesses from his feeble physical make-up as a child. He had survived the arduous physical examination on entrance but possibly succumbed to later physical excesses in training. In any case the medical officer, a Dr Yoshida stated that’…there is no possibility of recovery from this illness. You have no choice but to leave the navy.’8 Katō sought out the services of a Western doctor at Tokyo Imperial Hospital, one Dr Cooper, whose diagnosis was as follows: You may recover from the illness but you must have an operation to remove the bone at the rib cage chest wall lining. I should give you an anaesthetic but your condition is too weak for me to administer one so that is too dangerous. But, if you can bear it, you can have the operation without anaesthetic.9 The operation was a traumatic experience that Katō vividly recalled even in old age, but the pleurectomy succeeded and he recovered rapidly and never suffered from the illness again. Indeed, after the operation his physical condition improved remarkably. Katō’s willingness to seek out Western help possibly reflected the high regard for Western medicine in his native Fukui. Katō’s career in the navy had been saved by this application of Western medical techniques and, emerging as top of his class at Etajima, he seemed destined for a brilliant future. Katō now entered the fleet as a midshipman cadet and went on the post-graduation training cruise to various countries bordering the Pacific. On 17 July 1891, after nearly a decade at the Naval Academy, Katō now joined the training cruise ship, the corvette Hiei. Until 1877 these cruises had been for students at the Naval Academy but henceforth they were solely for those who had just graduated from the academy. All students had to keep a detailed diary and Katō’s cruise diaries are still kept at Fukui Municipal Museum.10 These cruises had a number of objectives. They subjected young cadets to a very intensive and thorough training at sea under varied conditions. They also provided an opportunity of studying other cultures and of improving


their command of foreign languages. Finally, the cruises themselves were a massive information and intelligence-gathering operation. The cadets were expected to observe everything in foreign ports and waters that might conceivably be useful to a future naval officer such as harbour facilities, stores, foreign vessels and nature of fortifications. Students emerged from the cruise fitter, better trained and with some knowledge of foreign countries based on personal observation. This provided an early international perspective for young naval officers, a broadening experience denied their army counterparts. Katō joined the Hiei on 4 August and among the crew serving as the gunnery officer, Yamashita Gentarō (1864–1931), who exercised a great influence on Katō throughout his later career. The Hiei visited Guam, New Britain, Sydney, Melbourne, New Caledonia, New Guinea, Manila and Hong Kong. KATŌ JOINS THE FLEET On completion of the training cruise Katō was drafted to the Naniwa, Japan’s very latest cruiser. It had been built on Tyneside in England and was superior to any ship of her class in the world. The captain was Tōgō Heihachirō (1847–1934). Katō was greatly influenced by Tōgō and remained a devoted admirer and disciple of him throughout his career. Another member of the crew was Okada Keisuke (1868–1952), later Commander-in-Chief Combined Fleet, Navy Minister and Prime Minister. He hailed from the same village as Katō and they were good friends. Katō’s first months at sea were uneventful though Katō was apparently impressed by Tōgō’s speed and resolute action when the Naniwa hit a reef. In late 1893 the Naniwa received orders to proceed immediately to Hawaii where there had been a revolution. The events there were to add considerably to Katō’s admiration of Tōgō and also more importantly, provided Katō with his first lessons in international relations, diplomacy, power politics and the realities of American and Japanese imperialism. The event which necessitated the despatch of the Naniwa was the Hawaiian Revolution of 1893 when a group of white residents, favouring the annexation of Hawaii by the United States, overthrew the Hawaiian monarchy.11 At this time the Japanese population of around 20,000 far outnumbered the white settlers in Hawaii. The decision to despatch the Naniwa in 1893 was the first clear indication of the Japanese government’s growing concern over Hawaii. Japan’s concern was partly for the safety of Japanese settlers there, but also due to the strategic naval and commercial significance of Hawaii in the Pacific. For the United States, Hawaii


increasingly throughout the late nineteenth century, came to represent a key element in their Asian policy in both economic and strategic terms. Pressures for annexation increased towards the end of the century and among the most strident of those calling for annexation was the great advocate of sea power Alfred Thayer Mahan. In 1875 the United States concluded a reciprocal treaty with Hawaii that specifically forbade Hawaii to negotiate a most favoured nation clause with other countries. This policy, as Akira Iriye has pointed out, was ‘in direct contradiction to the principle of equal opportunity the United States was stressing in East Asia’.12 In 1884 the treaty was renewed and an extra clause added giving the United States exclusive rights to Pearl Harbor as a repair and coaling station. Thus, Hawaii was regarded as vital element in American spheres of influence in the Pacific even before Japan’s victory in the Sino-Japanese War increased concern over the Japanese naval threat in the Pacific. It was also an important halfway station to the markets of the Orient. On the other hand, Japan’s interest in Hawaii was relatively new. In the mid-1880s white settlers, in search of labour for their sugar plantations, had eagerly sought and welcomed Japanese immigrants. In January 1885, 850 men, women and children, sailed for Honolulu followed by a further 1000 in July. By 1893 the population had risen to over 20,000.13 This population dwarfed the resident white population and was increasingly perceived as part of the ‘yellow peril’ by many Americans. Ostensibly, the Naniwa had been despatched to Hawaii to ensure that Japanese citizens in Hawaii were safe. However, by the 1890s,Hawaii was a crucial test of Japan’s ability to expand peacefully into the Pacific: Japan’s psychological commitment here was far beyond its material interests.14 When the Naniwa arrived at Honolulu in February 1893, the Japanese training ship Kongō was already there. More importantly, so was the American cruiser Boston (and a British warship). In fact, the Boston had already landed its marines to protect American lives but, ‘as an official investigation later pointed out, it was to maintain order on behalf of the proAmerican revolutionists’.15 Events at Hawaii in 1893 clearly provided an interesting lesson for Katō and others in the use of warships in a delicate situation and a clear example of successful ‘gunboat diplomacy’ by the United States. Captain Tōgō found himself at the centre of a number of controversies. First, a fugitive Japanese criminal sought refuge aboard his ship. Tōgō refused to hand him over to the (provisional government) authorities. Instead, he deposited him with the Japanese Consul. Later, Tōgō refused to permit a gun salute to the President of the new government when the latter’s


ship passed alongside. Although much was made of such incidents in the local press, both were based on Tōgō’s refusal to recognize the new government, a position also adhered to by the Japanese authorities in Tokyo.16 Tōgō, as befitting naval officers in command positions, was well versed in international law. Katō later described both incidents in great detail recounting how Tōgō had always emphasized that naval officers must have an excellent understanding of international law. Tōgō’s firmness in the face of considerable pressure at this time provided an excellent lesson for a young officer such as Katō. In later years Katō reflected on events in Hawaii at this time and wrote: As I recollect there were hardly any people in our country at that time who valued Hawaii, the ‘Gibraltar’ of the Pacific. Since domestic public opinion was extremely weak and no alarm bells went off the consequence is that we are now left with a vexing problem today. Ōkuma Shigenobu, as I remember, was the only one who stated that we must not overlook the value of Hawaii. At that time our naval strength comprised newly-constructed highspeed cruisers such as the Naniwa and the Takachiho, whereas America was weak in naval strength and possessed only steel-bound, wooden-hulled ships. If our people had had the concern they have today, if we had considered carefully the international outcome and if we had used the British appropriately then I positively believe it would not have been difficult to at least make Hawaii remain neutral.17 Asada Sadao has perceptively seen the principal impact of this episode on Katō as a first brush with American imperialism and power politics.18 Undoubtedly, there is some truth in this and it undoubtedly was an element in his sceptical view of the US navy in later years. However, there were other lessons to be learnt from this incident such as the necessity of knowledge of international law, the utility of landing marines and particularly the strengths and limitations of warships for political purposes. Katō was to find these useful when he himself was in the position of having to land marines, with British and American naval vessels looking on, in Vladivostock after WW1. Certainly, the Americans proved themselves more adept than the Japanese at gunboat diplomacy in Hawaii at that time. In March 1894, Katō was appointed midshipman, the first step in the naval hierarchy. At the end of March, the Naniwa returned home and Katō was drafted to the Gunnery training ship Tatsuta, as a gunnery student. He spent two months there and achieved excellent results. He was then assigned to


duties at the Yokosuka Navy Yard. During his time there the situation between Japan and China rapidly deteriorated leading eventually to war. Immediately prior to the outbreak of the Sino-Japanese War on 21 July 1894, Katō received orders to proceed to the Naval Expeditionary Headquarters in Korea for duties with the shore batteries there. His biographers attributed his selection to excellent results in gunnery training. He remained there until December of that year and then was transferred to the cruiser Hashidate that was operating as a troop-ship to Shantung. The Hashidate also participated in the naval attack on Wei Hai Wei in early 1895. His role in the war, while no doubt arduous and often dangerous, did not include participation in any of the great sea battles. The official biography quotes extensively from Katō’s own writings at this time, but it is mainly descriptive of the events of the war and tells us little of his own involvement or his inner thoughts. The Sino-Japanese War was important to Katō’s career development in that he had actually participated in Japan’s first major naval successes and gained valuable experience especially in gunnery. In later years he talked mainly of Togo’s role, especially the sinking of the British SS Kowshing prior to the official declaration of the war.19 This incident indicated yet again to Katō Tōgō’s resoluteness and courage in his own interpretations of international law. FROM ENGLAND TO THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR When the war ended Katō continued to serve aboard the Hashidate until October 1895. Then he was appointed as Navigation Officer on the Chiyoda. He served aboard her until 1896 when, anchored in Jinseg, Korea, he then received orders to proceed to England and join the steaming crew responsible for sailing the newly-constructed battleship Fuji back to Japan. The Fuji and its sister ship the Yashima had been purchased, in part, by the Emperor’s gift from Imperial Household funds to the navy. The Fuji was the first battleship built specifically for the Japanese Navy. The second in command on this cruise was Saitō Makoto (1858–1936) with whom Katō continued to correspond in later years. Saitō went on to become Navy Minister, GovernorGeneral of Korea and Prime Minister. Katō was in England for the Grand Naval Review at Spithead for Queen Victoria’s Jubilee and the Fuji took part in the review. On 17 August 1897, after some eight months in England, the Fuji sailed for Japan. Apart from the normal difficulties of sailing a new ship home, the crew had to sail through the Suez Canal. There was some doubt as to whether ships of such size could pass through the 25-fathom channel and


other navies of the world watched with great interest.20 On 3 October 1897 the Fuji arrived at Yokosuka to a tumultuous public welcome. In December, Katō was promoted to Chūi (Sub-Lieutenant) and then almost immediately to Taii (Lieutenant). The latter rather rapid promotion was simply due to changes in age qualifications. He was then made Butaichō (Divisional Officer) of the Fuji. In July 1898 he was appointed Chief Navigator of the torpedo gunboat Tatsuta and then in November 1899 he was appointed to duties in No 3 Section of the Naval General Staff. During his tour of duty at the Naval General Staff, Katō took the A-Course pre-qualifying examination for the Naval War College. In later years success on this course was a key stage in promotion to flag rank but at this time it was useful but not vital. This was fortunate since Katō was drafted to Russia before he could attend the course. His fine results in the entrance examination were rewarded with a tour of duty as a language student in Russia. The practice of sending naval students abroad for training had commenced in the Bakumatsu period. The new Meiji government continued and expanded the practice of sending students f or both short and long periods of study in the West. The practice ceased briefly during the Sino-Japanese War. Undoubtedly, such tours abroad were, in part, designed to increase and widen a naval officer’s naval education. But, as was the case with training cruises, indeed more so, they were also intelligence operations. Katō’s orders were quite explicit: ‘You must engage in research and investigation pertaining to matters relating to naval armaments during your stay in Russia.’21 Intelligence on Russian military and especially naval matters had increased in importance after the Sino-Japanese War since Russia had once again become the primary potential enemy. At this time the navy were rather short of officers proficient in Russian. Katō’s Russian was already very good although there is no indication as to where he learned it. It is possible he acquired it as preparation for the Naval War College A-Course examination. In later years Katō recalled how he had interpreted for Lieutenant Hirose Takeo who was attempting to court the daughter of a Russian Admiral.22 Yet Katō had just arrived whilst Hirose had been in St Petersburg for some time. Katō spent almost three years in Russia (1900–02) and during his stay the army attaché was Tanaka Giichi, a future Army Minister and Prime Minister. All the biography tells of their relationship is that Tanaka, who liked to live in style, i.e. beyond his means, used Katō as an intermediary for borrowing money from Hirose Takeo! Katō did strike up a very close relationship with Hirose Takeo who was later posthumously accorded the coveted title Gunshin (Divine Soldier) for bravery in the Russo-Japanese War. Hirose,


after a little initial help from Katō, courted a Russian girl, daughter of a Russian admiral, and his Russian apparently improved. Hirose had graduated from the Naval Academy earlier than Katō but he was apparently a relatively average student there and graduated halfway down his class. Katō studied hard, improved his knowledge of Russia and Russian even, we are told, to the extent of reading Russian novels. He continued to have a lifelong interest in things Russian. On his return home he spent some time on the battleship Mikasa in the Reserve Fleet. Katō was promoted to Lieutenant Commander in September 1903 and on 28 December that same year he was appointed Chief Gunnery Officer of the battleship Asahi. Katō was aboard the Asahi when war broke out with Russia. The Asahi was one of the key battleships of the Combined Fleet in the war and the Chief Torpedo Officer was Hirose Takeo, Katō’s close friend from his days in St Petersburg. It does seem somewhat strange that the Japanese Navy allowed two officers with such recent and detailed knowledge of Russia to be aboard the same vessel at such a crucial time. The Russo-Japanese War (1904–05) provided Japan, especially its navy, with some glorious episodes as well as some important strategic military and especially naval lessons. Moreover, it also added greatly to Katō’s own reputation both by his participation and by his close association with some of the great naval heroes of the war. The Japanese Navy’s attempts to sink blockships in Port Arthur Harbour and the successes at the Battle of the Yellow Sea and the Battle of the Japan Sea provided Japan with a glorious tradition in the eyes of the nation and the navy. The navy’s achievements there were compared to the Battle of Trafalgar and Admiral Tōgō Heihachirō henceforth became known as the ‘Nelson of Japan’. The Japanese Navy initially attempted to sink the Russian Pacific Fleet in Port Arthur Harbour by torpedo attacks but had little success. A plan was therefore devised to block the entrance of the Harbour by sinking blockships. These blockships were to be manned by volunteers since few were expected to survive the attempt. The Fleet provided twenty times the number of volunteers and among those were Katō himself and his good friend Hirose Takeo. The release of two key officers from one ship was unthinkable let alone two with recent experience in Russia and Katō was persuaded that Hirose ought to go. Hirose was killed in the second blockship attack and became a national hero. Remnants of his clothing were deposited in the Naval Academy Museum at Etajima. In fact the blockship attempts failed and torpedo attacks were soon resumed. Katō saw Hirose immediately before his death and was given a letter for Hirose’s Russian sweet-heart whom Katō had known well from his stay at St Petersburg.


In March 1904 Katō was transferred to the battleship Mikasa, Flagship of Admiral Tōgō. Also aboard was Prince Fushimi with whom Katō had a close relationship dating from the days when he had been the prince’s official companion at the Naval Academy. Katō saw action immediately as the Russian fleet decided to make a run for the open sea rather than wait passively whilst the Japanese attempted to sink or blockade them. The Japanese Fleet gave chase and the first major naval engagement of the war, the Battle of the Yellow Sea took place. The Mikasa was at the very centre of the battle and sustained some twenty hits, losing 32 men with 88 wounded including Katō and Prince Fushimi. Tōgō, like all the officers on the bridge was covered in blood and had to be forcibly dragged below decks from the bridge by other officers. After the war a bloodstained chart was deposited at Etajima. It was the chart from the Mikasa bridge as well as a diagram of those on the bridge including Katō.23 Here Katō had been present at an episode in Japanese naval history which was to have a great impact on future generations of naval officers. Katō had initiated a new form of gun-firing system whilst aboard the Mikasa by which the Chief Gunner operating from the bridge could co-ordinate firing more effectively than hitherto. This method, it is claimed in the official biography, was later copied by other navies. It has also been suggested, though never proved, that the shells which killed the key Russian Admiral, came from the Mikasa’s guns. However, by now the navy’s need for greater expertise on Russia was becoming even more vital and immediately after this sea battle, Katō was sent ashore to assist in planning. He was ordered to report to Imperial Headquarters as aide-de-camp to Navy Minister Yamamoto Gonnohyōe and also to act as his Chief Secretary. Katō was shocked by this transfer from ‘fighting’ to ‘administrative’ duties. According to his biographers, Katō had probably given no thought to anything other than dying gloriously for his country. Instead, as he wrote to his old friend Amano, ‘I have been appointed as a petty official’.24 Nevertheless, Katō worked hard and greatly impressed the Navy Minister Admiral Yamamoto. FROM NAVY MINISTRY DUTIES TO WW1 When the war ended and Admiral Yamamoto became a Supreme Military Councillor he again asked for Katō as his aide-de-camp. Katō, by association with Tōgō and the Mikasa and as its Chief Gunner during the Battle of the Yellow Sea, had gained a considerable reputation in the fleet. Katō also gained in reputation with young officers by his close association with Lieutenant Commander Hirose now a national hero. Katō had greatly


impressed not only Tōgō, Commander-in-Chief of the Combined Fleet, but also Navy Minister Yamamoto and such things were clearly beneficial to the career of a young, talented naval officer. On 17 November 1907, Katō was appointed a member of the Prince Fushimi mission of thanks to Great Britain. This mission was in response to the Emperor being awarded the Order of the Garter in 1906. The award was a result of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance of 1902 but had been delayed partly, it has been said, by the British Sovereign’s reluctance to award the Order to a nonChristian monarch and in part due to the Russo-Japanese War, when such an award might have seemed improper in view of British ‘neutrality’.25 The signing of the Second Anglo-Japanese Alliance agreement in 1905 had made the award even more expedient politically. Katō’s appointment to this mission was not a result of his connections with the Fushimi family. Rather it was further evidence of Admiral Yamamoto’s high regard for him. He was in any case Yamamoto’s aide at this time. Although nominally part of the Fushimi mission, Katō’s appointment was chiefly as a member of the naval team, headed by Yamamoto, sent to negotiate and finalise the military agreements as part of the Second Anglo-Japanese Alliance. An American naval officer wrote of Katō at the time of his appointment thus: Commander Katō during most of my time (in Tokyo) was Private Secretary to the Minister, a post that I have suspected he got because of his knowledge of Russian. I mentioned him in my gunnery report on target practice last Autumn. I saw of course a great deal of him and we were very good friends in spite of one or two rows. I asked him how he liked his present detail and he replied: ‘Oh very much. I shall no longer be attacked by all the naval attaches.’ He doubtless has a future though I do not regard him as a man of much original ability.26 The Yamamoto Mission, as it is sometimes called, left ahead of the main Fushimi party and landed at Genoa on 10 April 1907, reaching Paris on 12 April and Dover on 6 May. The naval mission then devoted its time to ceremonial functions as part of the Fushimi group. In this period Katō met the heads of State of Italy, France and Great Britain as part of Yamamoto’s retinue as well as the top naval officers in each country. The functions ceased at the end of May and negotiations with the Royal Navy commenced in earnest. Yamamoto met with Admiral Lord Fisher and after their talks, a team of three British and three Japanese officers drafted the agreements based on the understandings of Admirals Yamamoto and Fisher. There were five Captains and one Commander. Included on the British side was Captain


Ottley, Chief of Naval Intelligence and on the Japanese side Captain Takarabe Takeshi (1868–1949) who later served as Navy Minister when Katō became Chief of the Naval General Staff. As a result of their work Article 7 of the Alliance was drafted. On 8 June, Katō sailed to Germany with Yamamoto and met Admiral Tirpitz for the first time. On 26 June, they returned to England and then on 2 July the party sailed for the United States where antiJapanese feelings were at their peak. Although the military talks of 1907 were, within the overall alliance structure, of rather a ‘minor nature’ they did provide Katō, a young commander, with a further opportunity for enhancing his already considerable language skills. They also provided the beginnings of an education in diplomatically sensitive military matters. Katō’s technical skills were put to good use as the Yamamoto mission viewed all the latest naval technological advances of all the major naval powers. The opportunity of meeting various Heads of State, as well as their leading naval officers, undoubtedly added greatly to his education, confidence and standing at home. He was also able to make contact with many British naval officers during the negotiations including Admiral Sir John (Jacky) Fisher. He was to utilize this fully in his period as naval attaché in Britain and during World War One. The visit to the United States further indicated to Katō the problem of the potential conflict with the United States and made him very aware of antiJapanese feeling in that country. Among the many honours received by Katō on this mission the most important was probably the British MVO (Member of the Victorian Order). On 7 August Katō returned to Tokyo and received further honours from his own Emperor to add to those awarded during the trip to Europe and the United States. On 28 September he was appointed second-in-command of the cruiser Asama and then on 10 December 1908, second-in-command of the cruiser Tsukuba. On 13 April 1909 he was transferred from the Tsukuba to duties at the Navy Ministry. At the same time he was informed that he was being sent to Britain as Naval Attaché. Katō was shocked by the news. In a letter to an old friend he stated: I have been appointed to a Navy Ministry assignment. I have also received orders of appointment as Naval Attaché to our Embassy in England. I am taken aback at this banishment for three years.27 His chagrin was perhaps understandable in that he had spent considerable time abroad in recent years and had hoped for some time in Japan or at least command of a ship. He did not give his immediate assent to the assignment


to England but, after a few days in Tokyo talking to colleagues, he determined to do his best. Katō arrived in England on 3 July, and having spent two previous periods in Britain, was soon fully acclimatized. Despite his initial displeasure and misgivings he never displayed anything other than total commitment in the job. He showed considerable skills in writing reports and social intercourse and displayed a keenness to explore all aspects of British society, not merely military affairs. His reports were well received by the authorities in Tokyo. In May 1910 he was deputed to look after Prince Fushimi who had come to attend King Edward’s funeral. In addition to the many diplomatic duties required of an attaché, Katō was appointed to supervise the construction of warships being built for Japan in British yards. At this time, the Kongō and three other cruisers were being built and these were the last large Japanese warships to be built abroad for Japan. Katō, who had been closely following gunnery developments in England, played an important role in attempts to equip the Kongō with 14’ guns. These guns were still in the experimental stage in the British Navy and had not yet been fitted on British warships. Katō had two major problems to overcome. First he had to persuade the Japanese naval authorities at home of the benefits of fitting the new guns. This was by no means easy as the faction within the navy in Tokyo supporting this had recently been defeated. His second task was to persuade the British to allow him access to the tests and to permit the Kongō to be armed with the new guns before even the British themselves. Katō negotiated directly with Admiral Fisher and was successful in his efforts. Then aided by a constructor officer, Captain Murakami whom Katō felt ought to have received the major part of the credit for this venture, Katō finally persuaded the naval authorities to accept his proposals.28 This episode demonstrated yet again Katō’s not inconsiderable understanding of technological developments, especially gunnery. The equipping of the Kongō with guns more powerful than its British sister ship made it briefly, ton for ton, the most powerful ship in the world. British cooperation was highly significant and as stated earlier, the links between the Royal and Imperial navies, as a result of British tutelage of the Japanese Navy and the AngloJapanese Alliance, were very close indeed. Although military secrecy had not been so commonplace in the nineteenth century, by the early twentieth century advances in military technology were jealously guarded. The flow of military information from country to country was drying up rapidly. Of course, Katō’s ability to persuade Admiral Fisher may possibly have been due to his reputation with the Royal Navy as a gunnery specialist but this was probably not the most crucial factor. At this time Britain was engaged in a naval race with Germany and was looking more and


more to Japan for assistance with security in areas outside Europe. Japan, of course, by virtue of the alliance with Britain, could in any case have expected a certain amount of information. Admiral Yamamoto Gonnohyōe when in England in 1907, had said that: Japan hopes that the British Navy which is not only the greatest Navy in the world, but also in every way the most advanced, will agree to assist the Navy of its ally, by its advice on every aspect of naval education and research.29 Evidently, in his negotiations with Admiral Fisher, Katō determined that he would take full advantage of the ‘spirit’ of theAnglo-Japanese Alliance. However, it was probably Britain’sincreasing dependence on the Japanese Navy in view of the navalrace with Germany that rendered the Royal Navy so susceptible toJapanese requests for co-operation in this crucial area. The armingof the Kongō with 14’ guns emphasized again that phenomenon,so common to advanced military powers, whereby the latestadvances were often implemented for the benefit of other nationsbefore the authorities at home could divest themselves ofentrenched, outmoded attitudes. Moreover Japan had by this timeacquired a world-wide reputation as a country which always gotthe very best out of any ship purchased abroad. For Katō, the period in England was highly successful. He had greatly improved his language skills and his technical knowledge. He had persuaded the authorities in Tokyo to alter a previously decided policy on naval armaments, a success granted to few naval attaches abroad. His successful tour of duty could not but bring his name again before the top leaders of the navy. He also, interestingly, was resident in Britain during the strained period of the naval race with Germany. This made a great impact on him especially the British efforts to impose an inferior ratio on the German Navy. and clearly influenced his thinking in later years on ratio negotiations with the United States and Britain.30 Katō met all the top British naval officers and the Monarch and his name was often in the Court Circular of The Times. Katō returned home on 7 August 1911 and shortly after that would probably have been highly amused to hear that his name had appeared in the London Times in a legal wrangle. Apparently the name Hiroharu Katō had appeared on the electoral roll for the south section of Kensington, London. It was challenged but the conservative agent did not object-permitting the name to remain on the list. He justified this by saying that ‘Mr Hiroharu Katō was a commander in the Japanese Navy and also an MVO’.31


Katō, after his return was appointed to command the cruiser Asama and then the cruiser Tsukuba. On 1 December 1911, Katō was appointed to duties at the Japanese Naval Academy at Etajima. Katō’s new appointment was as Kaigun Heigakkō Kyoto (Commandant) at Etajima. The President at this time was Yamashita Gentarō, Katō’s gunnery instructor in his academy days. The appointment offered Katō a further opportunity to demonstrate his technical and leadership skills and much was expected of him. He had an excellent relationship with his former teacher whom he respected greatly. Katō was appointed Chairman of the Committee on Basic Course Outlines and Science Textbooks. In fact, he chaired numerous committees on such matters as revision of navigation tables. To all these committees he brought a deep and up-to-date knowledge gleaned from his recent period in England. One must, however, exercise some caution in attributing too much to Katō’s work on these committees since there is no indication that such revisions were all or even largely a direct result of his own initiatives. They were probably part of the normal duties of a school commandant although he probably contributed more than most who occupied the post. This appointment, his first major educational position, was extremely important for his future career. Interestingly, in a letter written at this time on the subject of international affairs, Katō gave some idea of the way his thinking on international relations was developing: The China problem…has become a matter of life and death to which we must sincerely devote our utmost attention. If we leave such things to small-time politicians and petty diplomatic functionaries, who are unaware of the world becoming smaller and who dream of paradise on earth, what on earth are our country’s prospects? It is regrettable that the people and the government have not yet rid themselves of their error in failing to see that the guidance of public opinion should have an authoritative role in external policy. The California problem is one that has been foreseen for many years. The military authorities, at this late hour, are neither surprised nor panicking. Our finely trained crack forces are ready, on the signal, to launch themselves in the required direction. I think that, for our future, there are only two roads, advance or retreat. We are not permitted to pause halfway. If we advance at the present time that will be in the east and south Pacific where there will be a collision of interests (with America). Whether we advance or even if we retreat we cannot avoid their attack. Through development of China due to our guidance we ought to form one grand federation of ‘one written language, one race’, and Japan should lead it. I think it’s


unavoidable that we promulgate our own Monro doctrine in the Eastern half of the globe with Japan as the suzerain power. There is an inevitability that the Yamato race has the destiny of becoming the saviour of East Asia. The outbreak of the California problem is, in all probability, linked with the China problem and forces us to stand up for ourselves. Is this not something which provides us with the opportunity to form a grand merger with China?32 Katō remained at Etajima until his appointment to command the cruiser Ibuki just prior to the outbreak of the war in Europe in May 1914. As mentioned previously, there was, at this time, a tremendous scandal concerning bribery and corruption charges relating to defence equipment contracts. At the centre of this was the Kongō, the very ship whose construction and armaments Katō had supervised in England. The Siemens-Vickers Scandals, which might well have damaged a very promising career, did not involve Katō in any way. KATŌ AND WORLD WAR I Katō was appointed captain of the cruiser Ibuki on 1 Mayl914 and spent the next two months readying his ship (and the Chikuma) for ceremonial duty at the official opening of the Panama Canal. Katō felt that the outbreak of the war in Europe made it most unlikely that the government would allow two ships to sail for America since the navy was now placed on stand-by alert. In addition, Katō saw every likelihood of Japan participating in the war and becoming involved in joint operations. Katō therefore contacted the captain of the Chikuma and both ships now began to prepare for wartime operational rather than ceremonial duties. Katō, who already had a detailed knowledge of military aspects of the Second Anglo-Japanese Alliance, began to study problems of international law and documents relating to the Anglo-Japanese Alliance in the days preceding the final ultimatum to Germany. All of this was being done without ‘official instruction’ from naval superiors. The Ibuki his biographers tell us, was ready for war on 22 August one day before the official declaration of war! On 23 August, Katō received orders from the Navy Minister for the Ibuki to proceed, with the Chikuma, to the assistance of the British China Squadron and to make ready for operations in the South Pacific area. Katō also received orders stating that the Ibuki and the Chikuma were to form the ICHI detachment (I/buki+Chi/kuma), later renamed the Tokubetsu Nanken Shitai (special southern area despatch squadron). Its mission was to carry out joint


operations with the Royal Navy’s China Squadron. Katō’s special squadron was despatched to assist in seeking out the German light cruiser Emden, which was raiding throughout the Pacific area. Katō was based at Hong Kong and nominally had command of four warships, which was unusual for a captain but, in fact only the Ibuki and the Chikuma were directly under his command. One of the problems that caused initial difficulties between the Japanese and British naval forces was the term ‘joint operations’. The guidelines laid down in the military agreements under the revised Anglo-Japanese Alliance were rather vague. There was clearly a wish or as Nomura Minoru has termed it a ‘secret intention’ to place Japanese ships under British command.33 Equally, the Japanese Navy had a policy of avoiding entrusting command of their ships to other countries. The Japanese Navy was probably lacking in experience in such matters and the sensitivities of both sides were bruised somewhat during the war. Katō was called upon to explain to the Commander-in-Chief, China Squadron, the meaning of ‘the spirit of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance’.34 Thereafter, due to further diplomatic efforts by both sides, the problem receded. In part the friction at the naval command level regarding joint operations reflected the Royal Navy’s tendency to assume the superior role especially towards former pupils and they did try to occupy a ‘primus inter pares’ position in most joint operations.35 Katō’s small force participated in the search for the Emden. However, it was an Australian ship, HMAS Sydney that eventually drove it aground. Katō’s duties were then transferred to escorting Anzac troopships to Europe. For Katō this was a chance to put his knowledge of Australasian waters, gleaned as a cadet, to good use as well as his linguistic skills. His biographers indicate that Katō was responsible for designing a new escort plan which enabled greater co-operation between allied escort ships. Katō, for his work in the search for the Emden and particularly his troops escort duties, received commendations from the British China Squadron and the Admiralty. In addition, the New Zealand Forces presented Katō with a silver model of a Maori canoe. It was placed on public exhibition in London and also sent to Buckingham Palace for the King’s inspection.36 Katō presented it to the Etajima Naval Museum but it was destroyed in the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923. On 13 December 1915, the Imperial Navy was placed back on peacetime footing and the southern despatch squadrons and the American detachments were disbanded. Katō, after making a major contribution in the first phase of the war especially regarding the transportation of Anzac forces, was transferred to Chief of Staff of the Second Fleet (second in command under


the Commander-in-Chief). In the grand manoeuvres of 1915 Katō was able to put into practice lessons gleaned from co-operative operations with the Royal Navy. Captain Yoshii Tatsu, who was Katō’s aide during this appointment, stated that Katō provided model leadership and …had a fine brain and was of a generous nature. Always mindful of developing his subordinates he took the greatest care even over the smallest matters and was always ready to give exhaustive guidance to all his junior officers providing model leadership towards his juniors.37 Yoshii also pointed out that though some people might disagree, he found that Katō had always been respectful of his superiors. Katō’s period as Chief of Staff was largely uneventful but it was a time when his popularity with junior officers increased and his knowledge of foreign navies was once more in evidence. On 13 December Katō was appointed captain of the Hiei, the navy’s newest cruiser and this was to be his last command as a captain. On 1 December 1916, Katō was promoted to rear admiral and appointed President of the Naval Gunnery School. Originally gunnery had been taught, along with torpedo science, on training ships but gunnery was included in the Naval War College syllabus from 1888 and at the Gunnery and Torpedo schools established in 1893. At the Gunnery School line officers were given further instruction in basic gunnery skills and sub-lieutenants 1st and 2nd class attended four-month courses. Later naval officers could pursue more advanced, theoretical courses at the Naval War College. The gunnery school was, in addition to being a training establishment, a research and development centre. Katō would seem to have been an excellent choice for the post as tenth president of the school. He had had an outstanding record on the four-month course at the Naval Gunnery School, seen service as a gunner on shore battery duty during the Sino-Japanese War and had been Chief gunner of the Asahi and the Mikasa (Tōgō’s flag-ship) in the Russo-Japanese War. His improvements in coordinated ship-firing procedures in the RussoJapanese War had been highly regarded in Japan and abroad and he had also studied the very latest gunnery developments in England during his period as naval attaché there. His growing reputation as a man conversant with the latest advances in navy-related science and technology together with his pedigree in applied as well as theoretical gunnery science made him an ideal choice for the post. Naturally, since the war was still continuing and the Japanese Navy was aware that it might be called on again by Great Britain, the atmosphere at the school was somewhat strained. Increased emphasis was placed on intensive


drilling and education. Katō was pleased that the students were very keen and Katō was exceptional in that he came to the school every day himself. He soon made his mark there, introducing almost immediately a series of study groups and research seminars in order to advance gunnery theory at the school. In addition, he introduced sport, and established gymnastic exhibitions at the school, although it is not clear whether these innovations were principally for fitness or whether they were to reduce tension and relieve the strained atmosphere. He emphasized, to students and staff alike, the need to go anywhere and everywhere to learn more about naval matters. He also stressed that they should never miss an opportunity of participating in fleet exercises. He encouraged the students to take part in the research seminars giving them every chance to learn. In such an atmosphere it was natural that the students learned a great deal. He also encouraged and nominated staff for study at the Naval War College and did a great deal for the students privately and officially. Katō himself enthusiastically pursued research on gunnery and especially on night-firing.38 While President of the Navy Gunnery School, Katō chaired an investigative committee and court martial over the exploding and sinking of the cruiser Tsukuba. This ship had actually been Katō’s first command and on 14 January 1916 had suddenly exploded causing the loss of 152 lives. The Tsukuba at the time was the gunnery practice ship and it was therefore the responsibility of the President of the Naval Gunnery School. However, it was deemed that Katō and the school could not be held responsible. It represented the only dark moment in what was apparently an inspired and inspiring period for the school and for Katō himself. Katō remained at the Gunnery School until he was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Fifth Squadron, a specially commissioned squadron formed in 1918 and sometimes called the ‘Vladivostok Squadron’. VLADIVOSTOK AND THE SIBERIAN INTERVENTION The full history of the Siberian Expedition and the navy’s role in its early phase, lies outside the scope of this study.39 However, since the navy’s role in the Siberian Intervention has been rather neglected by historians and since Katō’s activities at Vladivostok are integral to an understanding of his later career development, the broad features of Japanese naval involvement merit examination here.40 Despite the Japanese Navy’s considerable contribution to the Allied effort in World War One the war had remained relatively remote for most Japanese. The army, far more concerned with events in China, and somewhat


sympathetically disposed to Germany, had rejected various requests to despatch forces to Europe, particularly European Russia. The Russian Revolution, especially the seizures of Petrograd by the Bolsheviks in November 1917 sent shock waves through all Allied capitals. Japan was most concerned and became even more anxious when the Bolsheviks began to talk of a separate peace with Germany thus bringing the war close to Japan for the first time since 1914 when Germany’s China bases were captured. The Japanese government now switched from generalized discussions on the nature of the postwar world to questions of security. There had been numerous discussions amongst the Allies on the possibility of despatching forces to Russia, even before the Revolution. However, Britain, which first favoured a combined operation and then inclined towards one carried out by the United States alone, was certain of one thing: Japan should not be allowed to undertake such an expedition. On the other hand the spread of the Russian Revolution eastwards had caused Japanese military planners to shift their principal focus from China to Russia. Then in November 1917 the Bolsheviks gained a majority in the Vladivostok Soviet. This was a significant development since initially most cities were anti-Bolshevik. The strategic threat to Japan via the Japan Sea now appeared all too real. Since early November the Imperial Navy had been making plans for the despatch of warships to Vladivostok but had been conscious that Britain wished to prevent this. Vladivostok, apart from having large stockpiles of military stores and provisions, was a major trading centre with a considerable population of allied merchants resident there. By December 1917, the British were becoming increasingly concerned with the situation there and were making overtures to the United States to send a force. The Japanese Ambassador in London felt it should be an allied force and should be mainly Japanese. By the end of December, the British had reached the conclusion that such a force, with token American and British forces, would be best. By this time the Japanese army and navy had made extensive plans for operations in Asiatic Russia but no clear decision had been taken on the final form for the allied expedition. Japan’s hand was forced by two developments. First, the shock of hearing from London that the British had broached the subject of a joint operation with the Americans and second, that Britain had despatched HMS Suffolk from Hong Kong to proceed with all possible speed to Vladivostok. Foreign Minister Motono found it difficult to understand:


Why the British Government had negotiated with the American government about an expedition to Vladivostok without first consulting the Imperial government.41 Prime Minister Terauchi, who had been opposed to an expedition, was furious at the despatch of a British warship calling it disgraceful and stressing ‘at all costs Japanese ships must enter Vladivostok first’.42 Admiral Katō Tomosaburō, the Navy Minister, agreed and in fact the navy had been making preparations for some weeks. The Fifth Squadron comprised the cruisers Iwami and the Asahi and the Commander-in-Chief was Rear-Admiral Katō Kanji. Thus, although the Siberian Intervention is mainly perceived as an army operation it was the navy that first became involved and moreover the navy was also the first to land troops. Japan’s actions here, while clearly based on her own strategic perceptions and interests, were modified by a certain British mistrust of Japan regarding Japan’s territorial interests in Asia. Thus, World War One began and ended with British diplomats fearful of Japan gaining advantages from ‘allied participation’ in war-related matters in Asia and the Pacific. More ominously, they had seemingly acted in concert with the USA, an Associated Power in World War 1, without consulting or even informing Japan, her alliance partner. Katō’s appointment to this new position took him to sea and possible action again. It also enabled him to play a very important and sensitive diplomatic role as well as a naval one. He had undertaken various diplomatic duties in the past but they were relatively minor ones. Vladivostok was an ideal setting for him to show his great linguistic skills in Russian and English as well as his ability to work with Russian, American and British diplomats and naval officers. According to Fujita Shotoku the selection of Katō Kanji for the post was the result of Admiral Abo Kiyokazu’s advice to Navy Minister Katō Tomosaburō. The Navy Minister had been unable to think of a suitable officer and sent for Rear-Admiral Abo. Abo replied without hesitation: There is no one more suitable than Rear Admiral Katō Kanji. He has excellent diplomatic skills and is the navy’s foremost Russian expert. From his record he would be the most suitable as Commander-inChief.43 Katō Tomosaburō duly selected Katō and briefed him as follows:


You are probably able to guess the reasons for the despatch of warships at this time. As you know the situation in Russia is like the eye of a cat and no one can make any predictions as to how its going to change. Therefore, there is no way in which I can compose a written order for you. You are thus to go without having one. You must be as troubled as I am by this position brought about by the sudden situation. If there is scope once you have taken command, request instructions, where there is none do what you believe to be best.44 The Japanese government was determined that a Japanese ship should reach Vladivostok first and this was now Katō’s first priority. He was formally appointed Commander-in-Chief, Fifth Squadron on 6 January 1918 and immediately boarded the Iwami at Kure Navy yard. Crews and dockyard staff had been working frantically since the crisis had occurred and the New Year holiday was still in progress. The Iwami sailed from Kure on 9 January and arrived at Vladivostok on 12 January, two days before HMS Suffolk. The Asahi arrived on 17 January and became Katō’s flagship. The USS Brooklyn, whose departure from Vladivostok in December 1917 was in part responsible for the deterioration of the situation at the Russian port, did not arrive back at Vladivostok until 1 March. The arrival of a Japanese warship off Vladivostok and especially its entry into port, greatly alarmed sections of the Russian community there and a number of protests were lodged at the various consulates. Katō immediately invited representatives of various political groups aboard and explained that the despatch of Japanese ships was not in order to use force but for the protection of Japanese and other allied residents. There was no intention to intervene in the political struggle but simply to use ‘silent power’, namely the forbidding presence of warships, to help create a calmer situation. This was essentially a public relations exercise and Katō was fully aware that his role was to exert ‘silent power’ on behalf of the moderates against the extremists and show Japan’s support for the antiBolsheviks. Hosoya Chihiro’s study of these events, however, argues, with some force, that the protection of Japanese residents was a pretext and that ‘intervention’ was the underlying motivation for the despatch of warships.45 Katō initially reported back to Tokyo that since his arrival ‘the moderate group has not weakened and their confidence has increased. It is clear that secretly they are grateful for our support’.46 But he then expressed doubts as to how far warships in harbour could extend support beyond the immediate environs of the city.47 Katō was soon confronted by a rapid deterioration in the situation as local Russian troops sold their weapons and local governmental authority


crumbled during January 1918. He sent a number of signals pointing out the limited utility of ‘silent power’ both in terms of its effect and its geographic limitations. Katō’s repeated requests for reinforcements and permission to land marines were refused by the Tokyo authorities in January and February even after a major looting incident at the Versailles Hotel. The message from Tokyo was very clear, namely that the right opportunity for the landing of marines had not yet presented itself.48 However, Katō did receive permission to make preparations for landings and on 30 March was told that ‘a suitable pretext for landings was the protection of lives and property of residents’.49 On 4 April the opportunity finally arrived when three Japanese were attacked at their store by armed Russians and one was killed and another seriously wounded. After brief discussions with Japanese consular officials ashore, Katō ordered 500 marines to land for the protection of Japanese and Allied residents. They went much further than restoring order in the Japanese quarter and occupied the whole city and remained in control until July. The British landed 100 marines for the protection of the British consulate but the American authorities delayed any decision. The reaction to the landings was mixed. The British in London were embarrassed by the captain of HMS Suffolk’s support of Katō and apparently Prime Minister Terauchi in Tokyo was not pleased by Katō’s action.50 The lack of action by Admiral Knight aboard the USS Brooklyn and the subsequent discussions with the authorities in Washington indicate that the Americans did not approve of Katō’s actions and were deeply suspicious of Japan’s motives.51 On the Russian side there were many protests since it was seen clearly as ‘imperialist intervention’ even Lenin registering a complaint against Katō’s ‘interventionist’ behaviour.52 However, Katō also received considerable support. The actions of the captain of HMS Suffolk can be seen as essentially supporting the landings. Admiral Knight, aboard the USS Brooklyn, whilst cautious in his reports to Washington, did state that The whole affair has been well conducted and appears to have been dictated by necessity’.53 Katō explained to Knight on the day of the landings that he had been unable to find any authority on shore to whom he could appeal for protection and feared the possibility of extensive looting. Knight did, however, hint that the scale and extent of the landings was perhaps too great. This force’ he wrote, took over the patrol, not only of the Japanese section but of practically the whole city….54 Japanese sources indicate that Knight was dissatisfied with his home authorities’ failure to act more positively but there is no evidence of this in the American documents.55 In general, therefore, one could say that Admiral


Knight basically supported Katō’s actions. One interesting comment by an American resident shows that American support for Katō may have been quite widespread in Vladivostok itself. In a letter intercepted by the American authorities Benton G. Decker, a translator at the American consulate there, wrote: The Japs also know how to handle their prestige abroad. Two Japanese were murdered on Thursday at eleven o’clock in the morning in an office not far off Vitaishaya. Friday there was a big mass meeting and Saturday at two in the morning they began to land marines, who have patrolled the city ever since. If two of us had been murdered our relatives would have been told that it was a pity we ever left home…56 Although concerned for the safety of Allied and especially Japanese nationals the ultimate objectives of the despatch of warships and the landing of marines were part of a strategy for extending Japanese influence and halting the eastward advances of the Bolsheviks. Katō was well aware of this and his expertise in Russian affairs was of great assistance in the political manoeuvrings in the months that followed. A number of influential Russians were singled out for possible support by Japan against the Bolsheviks. Amongst these the most important were G. Semenov, D.L. Horvat and P.Y. Derber. Katō sent reports on all of these, expressing support for both Semenov and Derber but opposing Horvat. He was strongly criticized for extreme bias by a Japanese diplomatic official on the spot who believed Horvat ought to be supported.57 Katō later landed further marines in July and remained very involved in political affairs until his return to Japan in December 1918. Katō’s year in Vladivostok was a very difficult one but it certainly added to his experience in international diplomacy. It also gave him a unique opportunity to show to advantage his considerable skills in English and Russian as well as his detailed knowledge of Russian affairs. His ability to negotiate with diplomatic military and civilian personnel from Russia, Britain and the United States did not go unnoticed. Nevertheless, Katō would appear to have been in charge if not actually responsible for the first landings of Japanese troops. This landing was the precursor to massive intervention by the Japanese Army, a move that caused the Japanese considerable embarrassment in the years that followed. Katō’s attitudes towards the Americans were probably not changed dramatically by events at Vladivostok but his suspicions of American ambitions in the area as well as their fundamental opposition to Japan’s


expansion of interests in this region were probably strongly reinforced. Initially, Katō had been evasive when Admiral Knight had suggested that Britain, Japan and America alternately anchor at the port.58 Admiral Knight was personally well disposed towards Katō but complained about his evasiveness and harboured a suspicion that Katō was much more forthcoming with the British.59 This is likely even though there were severe tensions between London and Tokyo because of Katō’s long associations with British naval officers. Katō later sent cables critical of the American activities in Eastern Russia and the longer he was there the more he distrusted American motives.60 Thus, perhaps one can say that Katō’s suspicions of Americans were further fuelled by the Vladivostok experience. Although it is nowhere mentioned in the Japanese sources, Katō’s landing of troops in order to give Japan control of Vladivostok may reflect an earlier experience. Katō’s ship the Naniwa under Captain Tōgō Heihachirō had arrived in Hawaii in 1893 during another revolutionary situation. The prompt landing of American forces from the cruiser Boston had ostensibly been to restore public order. In fact, marines had been landed to support one faction in the dispute and the Americans clearly secured a major advantage over other powers present in Hawaii by this action. Katō may well have been influenced or helped by his past experience as well as his memories of Togo’s resolute actions in a very delicate diplomatic situation. THE EUROPEAN TOUR AND PRESIDENCY OF THE NAVAL ACADEMY Katō’s next appointment in December 1918 was as Chief of Staff at the Yokosuka Dockyard, second-in-command to the Admiral-Superintendent. Katō’s responsibilities ranged from educational matters such as training course supervision f or constructor officers and others to matters related to naval aviation. This was a crucially important period for the navy as it vigorously pursued a major building programme. It was also a period when naval aviation in Japan was still in an early and somewhat uncertain stage and Katō was credited with making considerable improvements in benefits paid to the dependants of fliers killed in training. Katō also at this time became a strong advocate of ‘blackout systems’ for protection against air raids. Possibly Katō was advocating improvements based on his observations of the European War. Katō, however, failed to persuade the civilian authorities of the necessity for a system covering all of Yokosuka, but he did manage to implement one for Yokosuka Navy Yard and this was the first blackout system in Japan.61


In June 1919, Katō was transferred to Naval General Staff duties and one month later headed a study mission to Europe and the United States. The objectives of the mission were to inspect military developments in Europe and the United States as well as their cultural, transport and communications systems in the aftermath of the war. The tour lasted 336 days and covered Germany, Italy, France, Britain and the United States. In Italy, Katō was presented to the King and his group were well received, but the French regarded Katō and his mission with great suspicion and delayed approval for some time. In the United States, Katō’s passport was stamped ‘suspicious’ indicating the tensions amongst nations only recently allied against Germany.62 Katō’s longest and most fruitful stay was in Germany. There he was able to see everything which remained of the German war machine, especially munitions factories and technological developments. Katō received considerable help from Admiral Tirpitz whom he had met many years previously. The mission learned a great deal from the visit including, according to the biography, military secrets passed on from Admiral Tirpitz. German documents indicate that the naval mission had other objectives, namely exploratory talks on post-war German-Japanese co-operation and possibly even a military alliance.63 Wilhelm Widenmann has stated that Katō, in his meetings with Tirpitz, was seeking to persuade the German admiral to act as the intermediary in creating a military alliance.64 Whilst this cannot be substantiated by Japanese or German documents, the two did meet and undoubtedly discussed military co-operation although talk of an alliance does seem somewhat fanciful. Tirpitz did state that in 1919 he and Katō had reached an understanding ‘upon which neither Berlin nor Tokyo could capitalize’.65 Katō apparently told Tirpitz that the Japanese Navy wished Germany to construct submarines in Finland, a neutral country, and ship them to Japan. This request conformed with the letter though not the spirit of the Versailles Treaty. However, the discussions aroused concern amongst the former members of the Entente against Germany and rumours of secret negotiations were circulating in London one month after Katō met Tirpitz. There would in any case, have been a major problem in transporting submarines secretly to Japan, but Tirpitz also accused Katō of unwittingly causing the collapse of co-operation. In an interview in 1923 Tirpitz was reported as follows: Tirpitz then spoke about the earlier visit of Admiral Katō and said that the Japanese plan had been abortive because, he emphasized, the entente had been made very much aware. The blame for this lay


squarely on the fact that Katō himself travelled to meet him in an outof-the way place like St Blasien dressed in full uniform.66 Eventually, the Japanese and German naval specialists did agree on an exchange of technological expertise. The Japanese obtained blueprints of German designs and agreed to provide the resultant technical data from tests. The Germans also promised to recruit expert technicians for assignments in Japan. Bearing this in mind it is perhaps hardly surprising that the French and the Americans and of course the British, were suspicious of Katō’s movements. Katō returned to Japan almost a year later and was asked to give a lecture to the Emperor concerning the European tour. It has been suggested that Katō’s pro-German inclinations can be dated from this time but in truth the lecture indicates rather the reverse.67 Katō did speak admiringly of the superb technological achievements of Germany, especially in the military field. However he then went on to point out that technology alone had not been enough. Katō emphasized the spiritual and cultural weaknesses of Germany and one can probably date Katō’s increased emphasis on Japanese spirit over Western technology from this time. Germany clearly was a model for Katō but a model to be avoided. Katō concluded his lecture as follows: In short, the German Empire, only 50 years after unification, achieved great strength and prosperity and became one of the world’s richest Powers. But her rapid material advancement was in inverse proportion to the spiritual discipline of the nation and she paid insufficient attention to the latter. Consequently, material and scientific power came to dominate human spirit and matters were evaluated only from outward appearances It was not realized that a very important kind of power resides in the human body, namely the spirit. German spirit was built up superficially but outer aspects depend on inner spirit. The Germans did not understand this and faced other countries with only the thought that ‘might is right’. The result was that they led their country away from the principle of ‘Knowing one’s enemy and oneself’ and with the delusions of grandeur started the Great War which ended in defeat. Those who govern (our) country must consider deeply the lessons to be learned from the German example. But the Germany of the past was a country that led the world in thought and philosophy. Therefore, once brought back to its senses by the bitter lessons caused by a too rapid advancement in material culture, if Germany, which is at present disillusioned, can once again return to its spiritual culture, if she can exert all her power to develop the thinking


which will ensure a firm base and cultivate her national identity then, along with restoring her economic power, I believe she may once again become a strong nation.68 One is left with the impression that although Katō found much to admire about Germany but also clearly felt something had gone badly wrong. Moreover, it is quite clear that he was actually making a comment about contemporary Japan and the dangers if Japan followed the German example. Thus, the mission to Europe and especially Germany to examine technology and culture, strengthened Katō’s conviction of the absolute necessity of cultivating spiritual values. The message, one preached also by his great teacher, Hashimoto Sanai, was that Japan would only be successful if it emphasized its cultural and spiritual values and allied these with the latest technology. The West was morally and spiritually bankrupt, Katō felt, and this undoubtedly influenced him and his followers in the years to come.69 Germany’s experience in the war had caused Katō to proclaim loudly ‘Western technology and Eastern spirit’ but with a perceptible shift in the balance towards greater emphasis on ‘Eastern spirit’. On his return Katō was appointed President of the Naval War College. This was the top post in naval education and it was during his term of office as President that he first become involved directly in naval limitation issues and it was from this post that he was appointed to the Washington Conference. His immediate predecessor in this position was Satō Tetsutarō, one of Japan’s finest naval strategists. The post at the Navy War College did not quite rank with its army counterpart, Inspector-General, which was one of the ‘Big Three’ army posts along with the Army (War) Minister and Chief of the General Staff. Nevertheless, it represented the very highest level of the Japanese naval educational hierarchy and the President’s influence did extend beyond mere educational matters into other important areas of naval policy including at this point naval limitation negotiations. Katō Kanji, immediately prior to his appointment to the Washington delegation, was clearly destined for the very highest ranks of the navy. His promotion had been rapid, his experience wide, his contacts and reputation abroad were considerable and his relationships with top naval officers were excellent. He had served in all major wars with distinction, had spent considerable time abroad and had an excellent grasp of foreign languages and of the latest technological advances. Moreover, he had clearly played a significant role in educating younger naval officers, both formally through his teaching positions and informally by his example and his association with such heroes as Tōgō, Yamamoto Gonnohyōe and Hirose Takeo. However, apart from the


Vladivostok expedition, he had been involved primarily in naval matters. Politically one would say that he was extremely knowledgeable in international politics but probably had little real understanding or interest in domestic politics at this time. There is no indication in the documentation at this time of certain negative characteristics which others have associated with the man in later years. The literature does not indicate that he was overly impetuous, that he was a militarist, that he was greatly influenced by feudal pre-modern attitudes nor was he especially anti-Western at this time. He did place considerable emphasis on traditional values but these were to be blended with the best technological advances. However, the Washington Conference was to be a watershed both in his naval, political and intellectual development. Selection for Washington was the major event which propelled Katō Kanji onto the international and later domestic political centre stage. Before describing the events leading to his selection for and role at the Washington Conference and the later involvement in the Geneva (1927) and London (1930) Conferences and withdrawal from the second London Naval Conference (1935) it is necessary to present, in some detail, the Japanese involvement in the naval arms race and Japanese naval thinking on naval limitation prior to Japan attending the Washington Conference. Notes 1 The training of the Bakumatsu and the early Meiji Navy, and the contributions of the Dutch and British in particular, have been described in three American doctoral dissertations op. cit., Evans; Peter G Cornwall, The Meiji Navy: Training in an Age of Change, Ph.D., (University of Michigan, 1970); John C Perry, Great Britain and the Emergence of Japan as a Naval Power, Ph.D., (Harvard University, 1961), and also his article ‘Great Britain and the Emergence of Japan as a Naval Power’, Monumenta Nipponica, Vol. 21, (1966) pp. 305–19. See also Ikeda Kiyoshi, Kaigun to Nihon, (Tokyo, 1981) pp. 46–56, for a recent Japanese assessment of British influence in Japanese and Ian Gow ‘The Douglas Mission 1873–1879 and Meiji Naval Education’, in J E Hoare (Ed) Britain & Japan: Biographical Portraits, Surrey, 1999 pp. 144–157. 2 Katsu Kaishū is generally given the credit for the success of this cruise but this is challenged in Ikeda Kiyoshi, Nihon no Kaigun Vol. 1, (Tokyo, 1969), p. 13. 3 The standard treatment of this is to be found in Marius Jansen, Sakamoto Ryoma and the Meiji Restoration, (Princeton, 1961). 4 Bōeichō Bōei Kenshūjo Senshishitsu, Daihonei Kaigunbu—Rengō Kantai [1] Kaisen made, (Tokyo, 1975) p. 1. (Hereafter referred to in all notes as Rengō Kantai [1]). p. 6. 5 For Tōgō’s career see R.V. C.Bodley, Admiral Tōgō: The Authorised Life of Admiral of the Fleet Togo, (London, 1935); Tōgō Gensui Hensankai, (ed.),


6

7 8 9 10

11

12 13 14 15 16 17 18

19 20

21 22

23 24 25 26 27 28

Admiral Tōgō: A Memoir, (Tokyo, 1936); Edward Falk, Tōgō and the Rise of Japanese Sea Power, (New York, 1936); George Blond, Admiral Tōgō, (New York, 1960). See Archibald C.Douglas, ‘The Genesis of Japan’s Navy’ Transactions of the Japan Society of London, Vols. 36–38, (1939) pp. 19–28 and Life of Admiral Sir Archibald Lucius Douglas RN GCB, (Devon, 1938), by the same author as well as op. cit. Gow (1999). For a detailed discussion of the evolution of toppubatsu and Yamamoto Gonnohyōe see op. cit., Evans, especially pp. 210–212. op. cit., KDD, p. 162. ibid., pp. 162–163 I am indebted to Professor Mikami Kazuo for bringing these diaries to my attention. I was unable to obtain permission to xerox them but fortunately they were not central to my research. Moreover, important extracts are printed in Katō’s official biography. The standard work is Hilary Conroy, The Japanese Frontier in Hawaii 1868–1898, (Berkeley, 1953) but see also the study of Japan’s relations with Hawaii by John J. Stephan, Hawaii under the Rising Sun: Japan’s Plans for Conquest after Pearl Harbor, (Honolulu, 1984). Akira Iriye, Pacific Estrangement: Japanese and American Expansion 1897–1911, (New York, 1967), p. 11. ibid., p. 48. The population reached 61,000 by 1900. ibid., p. 54. Charles E Neu, Troubled Encounter: The United States and Japan, (New York, 1979), p. 34. op. cit., Iriye, p. 52. For Togo’s career see note 5. op. cit., KDD, p. 235ff. Asada Sadao, ‘Japanese Admirals and the Politics of Naval Limitation: Katō Tomosaburo vs Katō Kanji’, in Gerald Jordan (ed.), Naval Warfare in the Twentieth Century, (London, 1977), p. 142. op. cit., KDD, pp. 302–303. For a recent essay on the Meiji Navy and the Suez Canal Nomura Minoru, ‘Suezu Unga to Yamamoto Gonnohyōe’ in his Rekishi no naka no Nihon Kaigun, (Tokyo, 1980), pp. 18–27. op. cit., KDD, pp. 272–273 The best account of Hirose is Shimada Kinji, Roshia ni okeru Hirose Takeo, (Tokyo, 1970). For a popular account featuring Katō’s relations with Hirose see Eto Jun, Umi ga Yomigaeru, (Tokyo, 1976), (2 Vols), which was made into the first three hour drama documentary in Japan and shown on TBS Television on 29 August, 1977. Chart is reproduced in op. cit., KDD, p. 433. op. cit., KDD, p. 445. Ian Nish, The Anqlo-Japanese Alliance: The Diplomacy of Two Island Empires, (London, 1966), p. 346. United States National Archives Record Group 45, April 1907, Lt Cdr Frank Marble USN 07–323-E7D. op. cit., KDD, p. 542. ibid., KDD pp. 547–561 for a detailed description.


29 op. cit., Nish, p. 357. 30 Katō Kanji, ‘Fundamentals of Disarmament’ Contemporary Japan, (March 1936), Vol. IV, No. 4, pp. 490–491. 31 The Times, 13/9/1911. 32 op. cit., KDD, pp. 577–579. 33 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 146. 34 ibid., pp. 144–146 for a discussion of the problems of co-ordination between Japanese officers and those of the British China Fleet. 35 ibid., p. 146. 36 The Times 29.1.1916. 37 op. cit., KDD, p. 639. 38 ibid., pp. 651–652. 39 James Morley, The Japanese Thrust into Siberia 1918, (New York, 1957); Hosoya Chihiro, Shiberia Shuppei no Shiteki Kenkyu, (Tokyo, 1976); Hosoya Chihiro Japanese Documents in the Siberian Intervention, 1917–1922: Part 1, November 1917-January 1919’, Hitotsubashi Journal of Law ~ Politics, Vol. 1, (Apr 60), pp. 3053; Hosoya Chihiro, ‘Nihon Kaigun Rikusentai no Urajivostokku Jōriku: Taiso, Kanshō Sensō no Purorōgu’, Rekishi Kyōiku, Vol. 7, No. 1, (January 1959), pp. 38– 45. 40 A selection of Katō’s telegrams to Tokyo and the various replies is to be found in Gaimushō (eds.), Nihon Gaiko Bunsho Taisho 7 Nen, (Tokyo, 1968) especially pp. 476–763. See also bibliography for various books using Western sources only. See also op. cit., KKD, and Osumi Taishō Denki Kankōkai (eds.), Danshoku Osumi Mineo Den (Tokyo 1943), for assessments of the situation focusing on the two leading Japanese naval officers. The complete set of telegrams is to be found at the Military History office in Tokyo in a folder entitled ‘Nichi-Doitsu Senso Taisho 3– 8’. op. cit., Morley, p. 146. 41 op. cit., Morley, p. 146. 42 op. cit., Hosoya, (1959), p. 40 and op. cit., KKD, p. 667. 43 op. cit., KKD, p. 663. 44 ibid., pp. 664–665. 45 op. cit., Hosoya, (1976), p. 130, shows clearly the differing views of army and navy planners. 46 ibid., Hosoya, (1959), p. 41. 47 ibid. 48 op. cit., Gaimushō (eds.) 1968 p. 647. 49 op. cit., Hosoya, (1959), pp. 46ff. 50 Iwabuchi Tatsuo, ‘Admiral Katō and the Japanese Navy’, Contemporary Japan, Vol. 3, No. 3, (December 1934), p. 421. 51 See especially National Archives Record Group 45 Subject file 1911–1917 WA 6 Siberia Conditions at Vladivostock. 52 op. cit., Hosoya, (1976), p. 134 cites 6th April issue of Izvestia, The Japanese Imperialists are planning to try and crush the Soviet Revolution, cut Russia off from the shores of Europe, seize the fertile territories of the Soviets and enslave the workers and farmers of Siberia’. 53 op. cit., National Archives Record Group 45 WA 6 ONI August 12 1918, to State/ General Board. Intercepted letter dated June 18/1918 54 ibid., WA 6 Knight USS Brooklyn to C-in-C Asiatic Fleet 4 November 1918.


55 op. cit., Morley, p. 147. 56 op. cit., National Archives Record Group 45 WA 6 ONI 12 August 1918, to State/ General Board. Intercepted letter dated June 18/1918 57 dated June 18/1918 op. cit., Hosoya, (1960), p. 105. 58 op. cit., National Archives Record Group 45 WA 6 FlagBrook to OpNav, 24 March 1918. 59 George Kennan, Soviet-American Relations 1917–1920: Vol 2—The Decision to Intervene, (Princeton, 1956), p. 96. 60 op. cit., Gaimushō (eds.), p. 669. 61 op. cit., KKD, pp. 695ff. 62 National Archives, Decimal File State Department 1910–29, 24 March 1920(81. 111/28936). 63 John Henry Engram, Partner or Peril: Japan in German Foreign Policy and Diplomacy 1914–1920 Ph.D., (Washington State University, 1976), pp. 267–275. John W.M. Chapman, ‘Japan and German Naval Policy 1919–1945’, in Joseph Kreiner (ed.), (Deutschland—Japan Historische Kontakte Sonderdruck, (Bonn, 1984), pp. 211–264. 64 op. cit., Engram, p. 271. 65 ibid., p. 272. 66 I am indebted to Dr John Chapman for the provision and translation of an ‘Unsigned Memorandum to the (German) Naval Staff, entitled ‘Discussion with Grand-Admiral von Tirpitz on 8 November 1923’, where Tirpitz, rightly or wrongly, places the blame squarely on Katō Kanji. Dr Chapman however is in error in stating that Katō visited Tirpitz on his way to the Washington Conference in op. cit., Chapman (84) p. 239. 67 See Asada Sadao, The Japanese Navy and the United States’, in D. Borg and S. Okamoto (eds)., Pearl Harbor as History: Japanese American Relations 1931– 1941, (New York, 1973), pp. 228–229, for the development of a pro-German faction in the Imperial Japanese Navy. 68 op. cit., KKD, pp. 726–727. 69 ibid., pp. 714–727, reproduces the entire lecture

CHAPTER 3 The Road to the Washington Conference

After World War I, Japan ranked third in the world as a naval power and while this added greatly to her international prestige and position it also embroiled her in a naval construction race with her former allies, the United States and Great Britain. The race had begun to accelerate even during the war and heightened international tensions at a time when public opinion was clamouring for an end to competitive armaments production. It placed enormous strains on the economies of those involved, especially Great Britain and Japan. It is therefore important to consider the historical development of Japanese involvement in this naval arms race and also why Japan saw it as advantageous to participate in naval limitation discussions. In order to comprehend the position adopted by Japan before and during the conference, one needs to identify the major pillars in Japanese naval policy which caused Japan to ‘race’ with other naval powers. These were the changing conception of who was the navy’s primary potential enemy, the origins and development of the 8–8 Fleet and the evolution of the so-called 70% ratio in ships, especially vis-à-vis the United States Navy. One needs also to examine research within the Japanese Navy on naval limitation prior to the calling of the conference at Washington in 1921. This will clarify Japan’s position and provide the context in which to place and evaluate the evolution of Katō Kanji’s own thinking on the subject of naval limitation as well as his behaviour at Washington. POTENTIAL ENEMIES The period following the Russo-Japanese War holds the key to understanding the developments that led, eventually, to the Washington Conference. The emergence of the United States as the Japanese Navy’s primary potential enemy and the intensification of naval rivalry between these two nations as well as the development of the so-called 8:8 Fleet and the 70% ratio’ crystallized in this period. By 1905 Japan had emerged as a major naval

THE ROAD TO THE WASHINGTON CONFERENCE 69

power, had defeated a major European power (Russia) and was allied with the most powerful maritime power, Great Britain. Germany from 1898 on, had begun making great efforts to become a major naval power. This was in support of its efforts to create an empire and the Far East and Pacific were perceived as having considerable potential for German expansionism. The United States also, in the years after the Russo-Japanese War, determined to construct an oceanic fleet second only to Great Britain. Faced with these developments and the new responsibilities and role of being a world, as opposed to a regional, naval power Japan began, in the immediate aftermath of the Russo-Japanese War, to lay down an overall defence plan for her Empire. This resulted in the Imperial National Defence Policy (INDP) promulgated in 1907.1 This was a major innovation in both detailed planning and co-ordination of army/navy and civilian/military planning for the defence of the Japanese Empire. It was, in fact, three documents and not one. First was the Teikoku Kokubō Hōshin (Imperial National Defence Plan or INDP). This was by far the most important of the three documents and besides presenting an analysis of the international situation, it singled out those countries liable to become enemies in the future, described the underlying assumptions behind future armament programmes and had, as its objective the unification of military and civilian thinking on national defence policy. Supporting this was the Kokubō Shoyō Heiryoku (Requisite Armaments for National Defence). This showed in very detailed, concrete terms, the power needed to support the INDP. This quantitative analysis and forecast also had the objective of achieving co-ordination in military power. Finally, there was the Teikokugun No Yōhei Kōryō (Outline of Strategy of the Imperial Forces). This listed the strategic premises of army and navy planning as well as those of other nations. The United States appears as a possible future enemy in the above documents.2 America was emerging as an oceanic naval power at this time and had recently redeployed seven battleships and eight cruisers to the Pacific Coast. In addition, the American President had chosen to despatch the so-called ‘Great White Fleet’ on a world cruise in 1907 and the resulting concern in Japan enabled naval planners to specify the American Navy as the budgetary, hypothetical and even potential enemy in 1907. American naval expansion plans and anti-Japanese agitation in the United States all helped to increase tension and limit opposition to such military planning and increased budgetary allocations.


In the period 1905–07, there were naval planners who saw Germany as the potential enemy, but by 1907 Japanese naval policy-makers were convinced that the most likely opponent in a future naval conflict was the United States.3 In 1908, apparently for the first time, the United States was clearly designated kasō tekikoku (potential enemy) during Grand Fleet Manoeuvres. In 1911, a revision of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance provided that Britain was not obliged to come to the aid of Japan in the event of hostilities between Japan and the United States. In the first revision of the INDP in 1918, the three sōtei tekikoku (potential or hypothetical enemies) were Russia, America and China despite the fact that Japan and America had been on the same side in World War One. The California Land Crisis of 1913, the 1916 United States Navy construction programme and the American attitude to Japan’s wartime acquisitions in the Pacific, had brought about a significant deterioration in the already tension ridden relations between these two Pacific powers. American efforts to obtain authorization for massive funding to fortify the Philippines, Guam and other Pacific islands did nothing to alleviate this. Nor of course, conversely, did Japan’s activities in World War One including capture of German bases in China, its Russian and China Policy and its possession of Pacific islands formerly under German rule. The result was that the Japanese Navy came to perceive the United States Navy as follows: Given the state of political, geographic and historical relations especially regarding the China problem, the rival nation with which a clash of interests is most probable, in other words the potential enemy (kasō tekikoku), is the United States.4 Thus, in 1918 the Japanese were clearly concerned over American naval construction plans, regardless of whether such construction was aimed at regional naval superiority over Japan in the Pacific or parity with the Royal Navy in world terms. The Americans also had become increasingly nervous about Japanese naval construction plans. Japan’s alliance partner Great Britain, as well as Britain’s Pacific dominions, were also very worried about Japan’s rapidly expanding naval power in the Pacific. This Japanese naval expansion centred on the creation of the 8–8 Fleet. THE 8–8 FLEET In pre-war Japanese naval planning ‘8–8’ generally referred to a fleet of eight battleships and eight battle-cruisers.5 The earliest official mention of


such a fleet is to be found in the 1907 INDP documents, to be precise, in the ‘Requisite Armaments for National Defence’ where it is described as follows: In conformity with Imperial National Defence Policy, in order that those most seriously regarded as hypothetical/potential enemies cannot attack (us) in the East, our navy must at all times possess one fleet of the very latest, in other words the most powerful, ships. Regarding the absolute minimum standards for this force it requires to be as follows: Battleships (approx. 20,000 tons) 8 Heavy Cruisers (approx. 18,000 tons) 8.6 Planning an 8–8 Fleet was one thing but obtaining the finance for one was quite another matter. After the INDP received Imperial approval in 1907, both services sought parliamentary authorisation for the necessary expansion of both the army and the navy. The result was a clash between the army and the navy over limited funds. The two services also, jointly and individually, clashed with civilian policy-makers and the Diet over increased funding. The clashes showed a split between an army wishing two new divisions to combat the Russian enemy and a navy seeking a naval construction programme aimed at the United States. Massive increases in military budgets, especially after the defeat of Russia, resulted in a series of domestic crises in the last years of the Meiji period (1868–1912) and the first years of the Taishō period (1912–1926). Cabinets were brought down and cabinet formation was prevented as a result of political manoeuvring by both the army and the navy. Politicians, desperate to find a way out of this failure to coordinate civil-military and inter-military relations, as the power of the Genrō waned and the financial needs and ambitions of the military soared, produced two major innovations. First Prime Minister Admiral Yamamoto Gonnohyōe succeeded, in June 1913, in having the service minister qualifications diluted so that reserve officers could be appointed service ministers. This, if it had been put into practice, would have greatly weakened the military power over the cabinet. Second, a Bōmu Kaigi (Defence Affairs Council) was created as a co-ordinating body incorporating civilian ministers, service ministers and the chiefs of the army and navy general staffs.7 Prime Minister Yamamoto, in the process of trying to obtain approval for naval expansion plans in 1913, was confronted with a major scandal which wrecked any immediate chance of Diet approval. This was the celebrated Siemens-Vickers bribery scandal. It led to the fall of the Yamamoto Cabinet and the resignation of the Navy Minister Saitō Makoto. Three Naval officers were punished and one Admiral committed suicide but the damage went


much further than tarnishing the navy’s image. The vast outlays required for an 8–8 Fleet were not easily separated from the scandals and the chances of the Diet agreeing to the required increases in naval budgetary appropriations were much reduced. The Okuma Cabinet of 1914 finally, through the auspices of the Bōmu Kaigi, set plans in motion for a stage-by-stage achievement of the 8–8 plan. An 8–4 plan put forward in draft form on 10 July 1914 did not receive budgetary approval until 12 July 1917. This plan was for the construction of eight battleships and four battle-cruisers by the end of fiscal 1923. On 23 March 1918, directly before the first review of the INDP, the navy succeeded in receiving approval for an 8–6 Fleet. The increased prestige of the Japanese Navy as a result of the Great War, the increased value being placed on heavy cruisers and the announcement of America’s massive 1916 Naval Construction Program, all helped this to pass through the Diet. However, from 1918 on, the ultimate goal was altered from an 8–8 Fleet to a massive 8– 8-8 Fleet.8 It was now proposed that eight more capital ships, either battleships or heavy or battle cruisers (not specified) be added to form three fleets of the ‘first line’ (eight years old or less). This appears to have been a direct response to a second American naval construction programme in 1918. Yet, for all the efforts of the navy and their supporters in the Diet, it was clear that Japan could not afford an 8–8 Fleet let alone an 8–8-8 Fleet. Ironically, even the 8– 8 Fleet could only be financed by loans from the very nation it was aimed at, the United States. It seems likely that the 8–8-8 Fleet, like the American plans, was a ‘paper fleet’ designed as part of the tactical manoeuvring which sometimes precedes international arms limitation discussions. Secretary of the Navy, Josephus Daniels (United States), had stated publicly in 1916, that putting through programmes of this size was useful for negotiating purposes. THE 70% RATIO The final pillar of pre-Washington naval planning was undoubtedly the issue of the 70% ratio and, inextricably intertwined with this was the problem of fortifications on islands in the Pacific. The origins of the 70% ratio, which meant having a 70% defensive ratio to combat an enemy fleet, have never been satisfactorily resolved. It seems certain that the idea was ‘in the air’ around 1907 and was definitely included in lectures to elite staff officers on the Naval War College A Course No 6 (1907–09). Admiral Kobayashi Seizō (1877–1962), a member of this course has argued strongly that the credit ought to go to Akiyama Saneyuki who was a lecturer at the college at this


time.9 Nomura Minoru, whilst not exactly dismissing this theory, provides a convincing case for it being credited to Satō Tetsutarō.10 It seems therefore, that the 70% ratio theory in Japanese naval strategic thinking took firm shape around the time of the formulation of the INDP. It is not, however, stated explicitly in INDP documents at this time and, it has been said that the 70% ratio was originally calculated against either the American or German Fleets. As to when the ratio first appeared in official documents it was, apparently, immediately prior to the issue of invitations to the Washington Conference. At the time that Japan had begun preparations for Washington, if not considerably before, the 70% ratio was regarded as specifically concerned with the United States Fleet. By a strategy of attrition, Japan aimed to reduce the American Fleet crossing the Pacific to 70% of its original strength and then defeat it in a decisive battle near Japan.11 FROM NAVAL ARMS RACE TO NAVAL ARMS LIMITATION From the above, one can see that the two naval powers, Japan and America, were locked in a struggle for naval superiority in the Pacific Ocean. By 1909 the United States had, by most estimates, the second most powerful navy in the world. After Germany’s defeat in World War One, Japan moved into third place. However, it was primarily America’s regional ambitions as a naval power in the Pacific, rather than her desire for parity with Britain in world naval terms, which caused Japan to strive to maintain at least in percentage terms a nominal balance with the United States at 70%. Of course, since navies were regarded as essential elements of great power status as well as weapons of war, massive naval construction cannot necessarily be regarded as evidence of intended threats to other nations. Peacetime navies have rather wider functions than armies and naval construction races cannot necessarily be explained by the behaviour of enemies, potential or otherwise.12 One should also be cautious about accepting that the naval race between Japan and America was simply based on ‘action-reaction’.13 The previous sections may have suggested that policy-makers and naval planners in the period before Washington thought only in terms of armament competition but this would be somewhat misleading. Before World War One, Great Britain and Germany had attempted to come to an agreement on naval limitation. In 1913, the United States Secretary for the Navy, Josephus Daniels, advocated an international conference to try and halt the naval construction race and establish a naval ‘holiday’. By the time of the 1916


United States Building Program, Daniels had, however, outmanoeuvred the arms limiters when he categorically insisted that the United States would fare better in arms control talks if it had a large naval building program.14 This was a significant development and would not have gone unnoticed by Japan’s naval planners. The Daniels statement also lends credibility to the oft-cited suggestion that these preWashington fleet-building programmes were merely ‘on paper’. This suggests that such naval construction plans, under certain circumstances, may have indicated a negotiating position rather than a continuance of competition in naval armaments. In March 1919, just prior to the establishment of the League of Nations, Great Britain had sought to obtain a naval arms limitation agreement with the United States but the main discussions, between Admiral Wemyss (GB) and Admiral Benson (USA) resulted in a massive personal confrontation.15 This so-called ‘Battle of Paris’ revolved around British insistence on the retention of a superior strength ratio vis-à-vis the American Navy which Benson refused to accept. However, America did agree to abandon or modify its second major program, the ‘1918 Plan’. In the complex negotiations over the League Covenant it appears that the withdrawal of British opposition to the incorporation of the ‘Monroe Doctrine’ was a key factor in achieving such a compromise. On 10 April 1919 Colonel Edward M.House, adviser to President Woodrow Wilson, agreed to the suspension of the American 1918 Plan and to consider postponing construction of some ships in the 1916 Plan in cases where construction had been authorized but keels not laid down. This naval truce was naturally based on the premise that the United States would be a member of the League of Nations. During the Paris Peace Conference, the British, realizing that they would have to consider conceding parity to the American Navy, again began seeking a naval armament accord through the informal mediation of former Foreign Secretary Lord Grey, then in the United States. The United States Navy had suggested that a League of Nations Navy might alleviate economic burdens and halt the naval arms race but since America decided to stay outside the League, this initiative came to naught.16 Japan’s alliance with Great Britain was an important factor in the setting of American ‘standards’ for naval armaments but she was not a party to these bilateral naval discussions. Nevertheless, Japan was slowly moving to the conclusion that naval arms limitation was inevitable and possibly even advantageous. Japanese Naval officers (especially Katō Kanji who was in


England at that time) had observed closely the Anglo-German attempts to achieve naval limitation prior to World War One, especially the British efforts to allocate an inferior ratio to the German Navy. But it is Admiral Takeshita Isamu (1869–1949) who deserves much of the credit for initiating serious research into naval arms limitation within the Japanese Navy. Admiral Takeshita served on the Allied Naval Council established in 1917 and also on the Committee of Allied Admirals, which was responsible for an agreement on naval items in the Peace Treaty.17 These bodies were seeking a specific form of naval limitation and disarmament for the defeated enemy Germany. Takeshita’s experience on these committees and on the German naval disarmament negotiations was to prove most useful to him in his position as the Imperial Japanese Navy’s representative at the League of Nations. Article 8 of the League of Nations Covenant read: The members of the League recognise that the maintenance of peace requires the reduction of national armaments to the lowest point consistent with national safety, and the enforcement by common action of international obligations.18 Japanese government officials, especially top level military policy-makers, feared that the creation of the League would become a means for freezing the status quo. What they feared most were any disarmament provisions which might be incorporated in the League Covenant and Charter. In the above Article 8 of the Covenant, originated by Field Marshal Smuts of South Africa, the original draft used the phrase ‘the lowest point consistent with domestic safety’ but Admiral Takeshita cabled Tokyo with objections to this and the Japanese delegation succeeded in having the term ‘national safety’ inserted instead.19 Admiral Takeshita also played a key role in discussions over mandated islands. In February 1917, as the price for Japanese warships being despatched to the Mediterranean, Great Britain had promised that Japan could retain the captured German islands in the Pacific; The Marshall, Caroline and Marianas Archipelagos. Japan’s acquisition of these islands during the war significantly altered strategic configurations in the central and Western Pacific. This was to cause considerable concern to America and Australia. Australia was intent on annexing these islands and the United States wished that somehow Japan (and the British Empire) could be prevented from acquiring them permanently. Lloyd George, the British Prime Minister, found himself in a most embarrassing position, particularly with regard to the Australian claims. He eventually proposed League of


Nation’s mandate status for these island groups-much to the surprise and annoyance of Japan who felt Britain had reneged on a promise. There had been three possibilities in the minds of the Japanese and especially the navy. Annexation was favoured by the Japanese government and the navy, whilst internationalisation was strongly opposed by those same two groups. Initially the Japanese government inclined towards rejection of the third option, ‘mandate’ status. In Paris, Admiral Takeshita saw things slightly differently and perceived certain advantages in option three, as did certain elements in Tokyo, provided Japan was guaranteed the mandate. American was totally opposed to annexation, especially by Japan but Takeshita thought she might accept a mandate system. He also believed Japan might conceivably use the islands in future negotiation to halt the naval fortifications race in the Pacific. The Americans eventually acquiesced in Japan receiving the mandate for these islands. But Colonel House, after President Wilson had returned to Washington, managed to have a nonfortification clause written into the mandates thus depriving Japan of Takeshita’s proposed bargaining chip and making mutual limitation of fortifications on other Pacific islands much less likely. Moreover, America challenged the allocation of a mandate to Japan for Yap, one of the islands of the Caroline group. They insisted that President Wilson had obtained an agreement that this island, a cable communication station, be internationalised. The mandate was not rescinded but the Yap controversy was to reappear at the Washington Conference. America, in any case, had little authority to challenge League decisions since she was not a member. For their part the Japanese government realised that the mandate system, especially the Class C mandate that offered virtual sovereignty, was the best compromise they were likely to obtain. The Navy Minister Katō Tomosaburō, went along with this and apparently was unconcerned about the strategic significance of the non-fortification clause. He felt that it was not disadvantageous strategically since, in a national emergency, Japan could break the non-fortification agreement and arm the islands.20 Before analysing in more detail how the naval arms limitation policy evolved within the Japanese Navy in these and other committees a brief examination of the events leading to the call first for a trilateral naval limitation conference and then for the Washington Conference itself will be provided.


THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS AND NAVAL LIMITATION In May 1920, the Council of the League established a permanent committee ‘to advise the Council on the execution of articles 1 and 8 and on military and naval matters’ and a naval sub-committee of that body was also established. The First Assembly of the League also recommended the setting up of a ‘Temporary Mixed Commission on Military Naval and Air Questions’ but the above bodies signally failed to make any real progress. Naturally, Japan was represented on these bodies but resisted efforts by the League to establish naval limitation principally because America remained outside the League. Japan felt that unless America’s naval building programmes could be checked limitation measures could not be considered. Moreover the fact that the United States was outside the League and therefore outside its ‘protection’ probably meant that she would increase rather than decrease, the size of her navy for national security purposes. Great Britain, while re-stating her adherence to the ‘one power standard’, was confronted by massive American naval construction programmes and was left with three choices. First she could rely on the League to exert pressure on the United States. But like Japan she knew this was not a real option. Second, Britain could try to come to some further agreement with the United States by bilateral naval talks and the third option was to recommence building capital ships. Great Britain’s decision to opt for a ‘one power standard’ was not a concession of parity with the United States but a more rational attempt to retain supremacy within her economic resources. Britain opted for building again and began planning three sister ships to the battle cruiser Hood in 1921. In July 1920 Japan outlined plans for the 8–8-8 Fleet and both countries plans were intimately related to the American 1916 and 1918 Building Programs. The League was faced with a further naval race and since one of the participants, the United States, was not a member the League was hardly in a position to achieve anything concrete to halt such fierce competition in warship construction. The most significant result of League involvement in naval limitation planning for Japan was that it provided the necessary impetus for the Japanese Navy to begin serious research on the subject and this meant that the navy was quite well prepared when Japan received an invitation to a conference in Washington in 1921. THE JAPANESE NAVY AND NAVAL LIMITATION During Admiral Takeshita’s involvement with naval matters affecting the League of Nations he repeatedly signalled the Navy Ministry urging them to


set up a committee on naval limitation. Having been closely involved in the various naval discussions between the Allies prior to the Versailles Conference at the Peace Treaty and the League of Nations discussions, he was concerned that the Japanese Navy take immediate action regarding research on naval arms control. He felt strongly that they must prepare for naval limitation talks in the very near future. He perceived these as taking place within the League system of committees but the non-membership (as opposed to participation) of the United States in the League of Nations meant that his urgings prompted the Japanese Navy to begin a research programme which was eventually to form the basis of the navy position at the international conference in Washington in November 1921. In the discussions on the establishing of the League of Nations committee, Admiral Takeshita had continued to press for the navy to begin research. As a result of his urgings, Rear Admiral Ide Kenji, Chief of the Navy Ministry’s Gunmukyoku (Naval Affairs Bureau), petitioned the Navy Minister Katō Tomosaburō. The latter, on 3 June 1919, authorized the establishment of a Kaigunshō Kokusai Renmei Kankei Jikō Kenkyūkai (Navy Ministry Research Committee on Matters Relating to the League of Nations).21 The committee issued a series of studies that were indicative of the main trend of naval thinking on League of Nations matters related to disarmament, arms reduction and limitation. Serious study of naval limitation within the Japanese Navy therefore began in June 1919, with the establishment of this Navy Ministry research committee. It was established a few weeks before the League of Nations Covenant and Peace Treaties were signed and was staffed by officers from both the Navy Ministry and the Naval General Staff. It was chaired by Rear Admiral Abo Kiyokazu, Chief of the First Section of the Naval General Staff who was a very close friend of Katō Kanji. Although there were some changes in personnel, its key members, who were also to have important roles in future naval conferences were, Captain’s Suetsugu Nobumasa, Kobayashi Seizō, Yamanashi Katsunoshin and Nomura Kichosaburō. The first report was submitted to the Navy Ministry on 29 June and after more than ten meetings the committee produced a number of important findings. These were put together as one major report called Studies and Resolutions relating to Arms Limitation in the Research Committee on matters relating to the League of Nations.22 In the outline the report stated that it was not permissible for other countries to interfere with a particular country’s decisions on armaments. However, the report went on to say that Japan, as a member of the League, ought to try to achieve the objectives of arms limitation despite the many difficulties. Its principal findings were:


1. Taking 24 capital ships (8–8–8) as the absolute maximum strength and 16 capital ships (8–8) as the absolute minimum strength (our navy needs) to decide on the suitable naval strength to be asserted. 2. In order to make the discrepancies in naval strength between the Empire and Great Britain and the United States as small as possible (our navy needs) to assert the principle of equality of armaments.23 Thus, the Japanese Navy realized the inherent difficulties of reaching an agreement but was prepared to adopt a positive attitude towards arms limitation. At this time the navy was clearly willing to sacrifice the 8–8-8 Fleet but the 8–8 Fleet appeared to be an absolute minimum for naval planners. Significantly, a ratio of 70% visà-vis the United States was not mentioned. During 1920 reports had been filtering through to the naval authorities in Tokyo concerning a proposed Three Power Naval Conference, possibly to be held in late 1920. For example, Kobayashi Seizō, naval attaché in London, reported a conversation with an ex-naval officer (unnamed) prominent in British naval construction, to the effect that there would be a conference.24 But his report was ignored by the navy who dismissed it as unlikely. The Navy Ministry committee on limitation continued research on naval limitation but, in the immediate aftermath of Senator Borah’s resolution asking the American President to call a Three Power Naval Conference (14 December 1920) the Committee altered the focus of its attentions. Hitherto it had seen arms limitation research as based on Article 8 of the League of Nation’s Covenant but it now concentrated on a trilateral naval agreement between America, Great Britain and Japan. This resulted in a report entitled Nichi-Ei-Bei Kaigun Seigen Mondai Ni Kansuru Kenkyū (A Study relating to the Japan Great Britain-United States Naval Limitation Question).25 The conclusions reached in this document differed somewhat from the previous research. They were: 1. In so far as we do not lose the balance (with the major powers) we do not need to persist in the construction of the 8–8 Fleet. 2. It is absolutely necessary for the Empire to have a (naval) ratio of 70% or above vis-à-vis the United States. 3. We recommend the insertion of a concrete plan appropriate to the Empire’s needs.26 This report also included studies on limitations on air power and on the abolition or limitation of fortifications regarding islands in the Pacific.


Finally it produced recommendations for concrete proposals on a limitation agreement. These reports were all coordinated by the Navy Ministry who then produced the Kafu Kaigi Gunbi Seigen Mondai Ni Kansuru Kenkyū (Study relating to the Washington Conference Arms Limitation Question) dated 29 September 1921.27 This study focused specifically on the Washington Conference and became the cornerstone of naval policy. It will be examined in detail later. Probably the most important aspect of League involvement in disarmament and arms limitation planning had been in providing the necessary impetus for the Japanese Navy to begin serious research on the subject. This meant that the navy was quite well prepared when invitations arrived for Japan to go to Washington in 1921. THE CALL FOR A CONFERENCE AT WASHINGTON Although Japan had approved budgetary increases, for the navy and the army, in the years immediately following the war, Prime Minister Hara Kei and his financial advisers were becoming increasingly concerned over the parlous state of the nation’s finances. An arms limitation agreement began to look most attrac-tive as a means of halting the rapid increase in military spending. It was also an attractive option in that an international agreement would avoid the political risks of domestic-initiated military reductions. In December 1920, there had been two significant American developments regarding naval limitation. On 14 December, Senator Borah asked the Senate to adopt a resolution favouring a 50% cut in American, Japanese and British naval programmes. A few days later Senator Walsh petitioned the President to inf form the League that the United States wished to co-operate with the League Disarmament Commission. Borah continued to be active and, on 24 July 1921 succeeded in obtaining congressional approval for his 24 February Amendment to the original resolution. This had called for a substantial reduction in naval building. Due to his efforts Borah has often been credited with a key role in the origins of the Washington Conference but for various political reasons he did not become a member of the American delegation to that conference. His actions certainly accelerated the negotiations for a naval limitation agreement and, given that the United States was outside the League, the initiative, arguably, had to come from the United States. Rumours of a conference on the reduction of naval armaments were rife in Tokyo from around the beginning of 1921. Prime Minister Hara underwent interpellations in the Diet on 22 January. He was questioned about the Japanese Ambassador in London’s statement that such a naval limitation


conf ference ought to be supported including a 50% reduction in naval armaments. The Prime Minister avoided commenting on any conference and stated that the Ambassador’s comments merely reflected his own personal opinions. Then came a resolution by the Lower House member Ozaki Yukio on 10 February 1921, calling for a reduction in naval armaments by agreement with the Americans and the British. Ozaki’s resolution was crushed 285–38 although the Japanese were quick to point out that this, in itself, did not indicate that Japan was against naval limitation by international agreement. An outraged Ozaki toured the country giving lectures, issuing postcards for a poll on the subject and, after some 70 speeches to over 100, 000 people he received some 30,000 completed postcards of which 93% favoured limitation. Ozaki’s real achievement was to link a growing peace movement in Japan with an increased awareness of the vast expense involved in a ruinously expensive arms race. He managed to enlist the support of intellectuals, journalists and businessmen and contributed greatly to a positive attitude conducive to participation in an international conference.28 Even the Navy, in the person of Katō Tomosaburō, Navy Minister and ‘Father of the 8–8 Fleet’, appeared to accept the need for a conference. On 24 March he told reporters Japan was: Prepared to carry out the limitation of armaments to a certain extent if any reliable agreement is concluded among the leading Powers…Japan does not want to insist on the maintenance of the 8–8 Fleet under all circumstances.29 He also pared 100 Million yen from the naval budget. Katō’s public stance caused much concern within the navy and many were outraged by his cutbacks but it was a ray of hope for those who wished for an international agreement on naval limitation. The army did not like the cuts in the navy for they affected naval support units in Siberia and China as well as Pacific bases. The army also believed that the navy were setting a precedent that the army might be compelled to follow. Naval leaders had already had the situation spelled out to them by anxious Finance Ministry officials who pointed out that ‘whether Japan’s national finances live or die is up to the navy’.30 Premier Hara now began to perceive that a conference offered a way out of his dilemma since, so far, he had sanctioned continually increasing budgets for both services. On 6 July 1921, the United States Secretary of State, Charles Edward Hughes, confided to the Japanese Ambassador in Washington, Shidehara Kijūrō, that the American government intended to hold a conference on the


reduction of armaments in the United States. Initially, at this meeting the impression was given that it was to be a Five Power Conference (with Britain, France, Italy and Japan) focusing on limitation of armaments. But by 11 July the Charge d’Affaire of the United States in Tokyo had informed Foreign Minister Uchida that ‘Pacific and Far Eastern Questions were linked with arms limitation and therefore other interested nations would also be invited. When America did finally send formal invitations, the response in Japan was lukewarm in both official circles and in the press.31 The United States’ decision to link the question of naval limitation with Pacific and Far Eastern questions, struck the press and the public in Japan, as well as most policymakers, as rather illogical. They could not see why the two issues should be linked. Nevertheless, certain perceptive observers were probably aware that naval limitation was inextricably linked with Pacific and Far Eastern issues. Japan certainly had much more to fear from discussions on Pacific and Far Eastern issues than on the single issue of naval limitation. After some initial hesitation, caused in part by suspicions of American motives, Japan agreed to participate in the Conference. On 8 July 1921, Secretary of State Charles Evans Hughes cabled Britain, Japan, France and Italy on the advisability of holding an international conference on arms limitation and Pacific and Far Eastern questions. These countries had been the principal Allied and Associated Powers (USA) in the recent war. On 10 July a White House communiqué publicized the proposed conference, adding that China had also been invited to discuss Far Eastern Questions. On receipt of favourable replies, formal invitations were sent to the above countries on 11 August 1921 and Belgium, the Netherlands and Portugal were eventually invited on 4 October. THE NAVY PREPARES FOR WASHINGTON Naval authorities in Tokyo had been receiving reports as early as 1920 concerning a proposed (Three Power) Naval Conference possibly in late 1920. A Navy Ministry’s committee produced various reports on naval limitation in 1920 and 1921. These reports were all co-ordinated by the Navy Ministry who later produced the Kafu Kaigi Gunbi Seigen Mondai ni kansuru Kenkyū (Study relating to the Washington Conference Arms Limitation Question).32 This study, dated 28 September 1921 specifically focused on the Washington Conference and formed the cornerstone of naval Policy. The report was divided into three main parts: a general study; studies on various limitation plans and; a three point conclusion. It was of considerable


length and only the main points can be summarised here. The report began by stating the strategic and economic advantages of naval arms limitation for the Japanese Empire. First, it would avoid a construction race and lighten the burden of the people. Second, it would alleviate economic distress and advance cultural well-being. Third, it would avoid the bad feeling engendered by a construction race, reduce chances of war and contribute to world peace. Fourth, it would fix, at a certain point, the naval power of hypothetical enemies and prevent them from channelling their great wealth into naval construction. Finally, fixing a ratio vis-à-vis others would make future planning much easier. As to disadvantages, the Committee found that a limitation agreement was contrary to the principle of autonomy in national defence. It would also have an adverse effect on the public and they stated: Since an agreement can only be achieved by mutual concessions and compromise and if we are forced to accept a disadvantageous agreement then the Empire will be in danger. The outcome of the agreement will lead to public recognition of the superiority of the hypothetical enemy and this could have an adverse influence on our morale. This in turn will reduce our scope for making up for an inferior ratio by a specific construction policy.33 The Committee, whilst very much aware of the disadvantages actually found in favour of an international agreement. As to the attitude Japan ought to take, the study pointed out that Japan lacked the strength to carry out her ‘Big Navy’ Policy. They believed that if Japan persisted with such a policy the conference would not succeed and that to hold out for equality with the United States and Great Britain was futile. Therefore, the study stated Japan should insist on parity with the United States and Great Britain in principle. The report proposed that while Japan, to some extent, ought to recognize their superiority, she should endeavour to make the disparity as small as possible. Furthermore, the Committee suggested that a limitation agreement could be based on either an 8–8, 8–6 or even 8–4 Fleet and after considering ratios of 10:10:8, 10:10:7, 10:10:6 and even 10:10:5, ruled the last two out all together. Next, the study produced a list of methods of limitation and advanced seven possibilities: 1. Limits on numbers and displacement for each type of ship built annually. 2. Limits on the number and displacement of capital ships built annually.


3. Limits on overall tonnage which can be built annually. 4. Limits on overall tonnage built annually as well as capital ship displacement. 5. Limiting the naval budget so as not to exceed the previous year’s budget. 6. Reduction plan for the number of capital ships to be constructed annually. 7. Reduction plan for the total tonnage of ships to be constructed annually 8. Reduced naval budget plan annually.34 They found that 1. had no recognizable advantage for Japan; 2. had the advantage of stopping the construction race but since it would trigger off a race in auxiliaries, it needed to be replaced by an appropriate substitute plan: 3. had the advantage of enabling Japan, within the limitation plan, to develop a construction plan that would take into account Japan’s situation; 4. lacked scope for planning Japan naval strength appropriate to her particular situation; 5. the advantage it gave is not sufficient to balance the disadvantage. 6. and 7. were rejected as unsuitable. But, finally, 3. was considered to be the most suitable from a strategic perspective but 4. from the financial perspective. In conclusion, these two items should be borne in mind to give Japan flexibility. The study then offered concrete plans A, B and C.

A. B. C.

USA

GB

Japan

170,000 200,000 230,000

170,000 200,000 230,000

120,00 140,000 160,00035

These figures would appear to correlate well with the projected construction estimates required for 8–4, 8–6 and 8–8 Fleets respec tively. Finally, the committee, on the basis of these studies, provided concrete proposals as follows: Plan A

1. Recognizing the burden caused by the construction race we will endeavour to improve the welfare of the people by coming to an agreement recognizing, in principle, that there are differences in the armaments of the various countries concerned. 2. After agreement total tonnage to be laid down is not to exceed A, B or C (above).


3. Meaning of ships in aforesaid relates to battleships/battlecruisers, cruisers, destroyers, submarines airplane carriers (aircraft carriers). 4. To carry out this from 1922 and ships actually commenced or planned are deemed to be included herein. 5. 5 or 10 year periods. Plan B Same as Plan A above for 1, 2, 3 but for 5. Plan A 4, and 6 plan A 5. Regarding the displacement of each battleship and battle-cruiser to be constructed under this plan there will be a 50,000 tons limit. (or as appropriate 40/50,000 tons). Plan C

This is an alternative plan which is advantageous to Japan in case we are unable to get agreement on Plan B above. Same as 1 in Plan A; 2. Ratio of new capital ships constructed annually after the esdtablishment of agreement in terms of numbedr of vessels should nolt exceed: Japan

USA

GB

1.5 1.75 2

2 2.5 3

2 2.5 3

(Plan l) (Plan 2) (Plan 3)

3. According to this plan displacement of capital ships not to exceed 50,000 tons (actually refers to battleships and battle-cruisers) or 40,000 if appropriate. 4. Identical to Plan A. 5. Regarding the actual time periods for enforcement the study group decided on either a) Taishō 11 (1922), b) year following completion of American 3 year plan (1921) c) or year following completion of 8–8 Plan (1928). (The Study group favoured 1922 as the date of commencement). The other major problem considered by the navy’s study group was that of Pacific Fortifications. This subject was to prove crucially important to agreements on ratios at Washington. Therefore some details here are appropriate. The report offered three plans: Plan 1 Japan to maintain status quo on military establishments on the Pescadores and Keelung and to withdraw military facilities from the Greater Amami and Ogasawara islands: USA to maintain status quo on


Hawaii, Guam and the Philippines. Great Britain to maintain status quo on military establishments at Singapore and Hong Kong. Japan, Great Britain and the USA not to carry out construction of any new military establishment in the Pacific. Plan 2 Same as Plan 1 except that Hawaii is to be left out of the islands for the USA to maintain status quo Plan 3 Japan to carry out withdrawal of military facilities on Ogasawaras. America to maintain status quo on Guam. All three to agree not to construct new military facilities in Pacific.36 It is very clear from this document that the Japanese Navy was seriously concerned about Pacific fortifications and positive about coming to an agreement. While the Japanese Navy was busy studying naval limitation the Japanese government was naturally also focussing on planning and controlling Japan’s involvement in this major international conference at Washington. This involved the cabinet, the Gaikō Chōsakai (Advisory Council on Foreign Affairs) and the various ministries including the two service ministries as well as the Japanese Ambassador in Washington.37 General policy and prior discussion on the agenda were the main matters at this level.38 At the same time, at Vice-Ministerial level, the Foreign, Navy and Army Ministries, were instructed to form a committee to undertake research on specific questions and coordinate policy. THE TRI-MINISTERIAL PREPARATORY COMMITTEE39 Japan officially received an invitation to the Conference in Washington on 13 August 1921. Three days later a RikuKaiGai Sanshō Uchiawase Kyōgikai (Committee of officials from the Army, Navy and Foreign Ministries) convened. This Tri-ministerial preparatory committee held a series of conferences at Tsukiji at the Suikōsha (The Navy Club). It met from 16 August until 26 September and was organised and coordinated by the Foreign Ministry. This committee’s recommendations, with minor alterations, provided the basis of the actual instructions handed to the Washington Conference Delegation. The membership comprised the three Vice-Ministers from the ministries involved and the Vice-Chiefs of the Army and Navy General Staffs plus their respective staffs. There was a considerable overlap in naval personnel between the naval representatives on this committee and the Navy Ministry’s previous naval limitation study groups. Abo Kiyokazu, Chairman of the League Committee was now in


attendance as Vice-Chief of the Naval General Staff and Suetsugu Nobumasa, Yamanashi Katsunoshin, Nomura Kichisaburō and Hara Kanjiro were all members of the Tri-ministerial Committee’s navy team. The most interesting addition was Rear Admiral Katō Kanji, President of the Naval War College. The Navy had already carried out considerable research but now that a conference had materialized, its position began to change somewhat. The meetings were characterized by a series of clashes between the army on the one hand and the navy and Foreign Ministry representatives on the other. The army essentially took a very hard line indeed regarding arms limitation and Pacific and Far Eastern questions. The first meeting had concerned itself only with personnel and secretariat matters but in the second meeting, the difference in the attitude of the two services was made very clear. The navy stated: In so far as we can maintain an appropriate ratio vis-à-vis the USA and Britain, we recognise that it is not necessary to persist in the force levels laid down in the instructions to Japan’s representatives at the League’s General Assembly. On this occasion, depending on the situation, we do not rule out reductions even in plans already decided upon. We wish to make clear our readiness to meet at a conference.40 The Army on the other hand, would not agree to reductions below those stated previously in instructions to their representatives at the League of Nations. They argued that these instructions already embodied reductions and they would provide explanations at a later date, as to why it was impossible to go below these existing levels for national defence. This particular meeting also recommended that co-operation with Great Britain was to be sought where possible, but that it was not vital. At the third meeting, items which Japan would like to see removed from the conference agenda were discussed. These were Shantung, the 21 Demands, questions relating to the status of the South Manchurian Railway, withdrawal from Siberia, the Occupation of Sakhalin and finally, the Yap Island Problem. The Vice Minister from the Foreign Ministry explained that he wished to see these items deleted but it was not possible since the exclusion of items from the agenda had not been a condition of Japan’s acceptance. However, Ambassador Shidehara was negotiating directly with Secretary of State Hughes in Washington at this time, to alter the agenda. The army were vehemently opposed but the navy adopted a more realistic approach. While the navy agreed with the army that such matters ought to be excluded, it was


not prepared to press for them if it endangered the chances of a successful conference. However, the navy stated that, in the event of it being necessary to return Kwantung and Kiaochow, they would require that Port Arthur and Tsingtao be non-fortified and without military establishments. They had no objections to withdrawal from Siberia provided Vladivostok remained an open commercial port and they felt that the occupation of Sakhalin was, in any case, merely a temporary measure and ought to be removed from the agenda. The navy had already agreed that, provided an appropriate ratio could be obtained vis-à-vis Great Britain and the United States, even the 8–8 Fleet could be reduced. Regarding submarines, whilst against abolition they were not opposed to international legislation on their use in wartime. According to the Hara Kei diaries the Navy Minister made clear the differences between the navy and army viewpoints and indicated that, whilst internal investigations had shown the navy to be reluctant to give up the 8–8 Fleet they would do so if necessary. This he stated, showed their flexibility whilst the army was not even prepared to ‘reduce even by a single soldier’.41 Finally, the army’s plans for an increase up to 25 divisions had not received budgetary approval (unlike the navy’s 8–8 Plan) and it asked that the term kitei keikaku (existing plans) be replaced by the phrase genni jikkōchu no hon keikaku (plans actually being carried out at present). On 12 September, the Foreign Ministry drew up plans for the conference as countermeasures to the United States plans for the agenda. The army representative at the conference (and at Washington), Major General Tanaka Kunishige had strong objections to certain aspects regarding Pacific and Far Eastern Issues. Regarding Pacific Fortifications Commander Hori Teikichi for the navy, proposed that limitation not be a problem of arms limitation but a principle and wished to include under this ‘territory and colonies’, but his suggestion was not accepted. Finally the Foreign Ministry despatched instructions to Ambassador Shidehara in Washington. Unknown to the Japanese these instructions were already being intercepted by the Americans, thus weakening Ambassador Shidehara’s and later the delegation’s negotiating position.42 These meetings challenge certain assumptions on the Japanese Navy’s position prior to and at Washington. The evidence suggests that the navy were willing to give up the 8–8 Fleet and wished to see a halt to the competition in fortifications in the Pacific. The positions taken by the navy researchers in the above reports and committees also call into question the assumption that Katō Tomosaburō imposed naval limitation on an unwilling navy. Instead, it appears likely that Katō Tomosaburō was reflecting


conclusions reached independently of him by officers from the Navy Ministry and, significantly, the Naval General Staff. The 70% ratio does appear clearly in earlier document 8 of the navy’s own committees but is only implicit in the instructions issued to the Japanese delegation to the Washington Conference. As Nomura Minoru points out, it is what is meant by the phrasing ‘the appro priate ratio’.43 The Government discussed the Tri-ministerial Committee’ recommendations in both the cabinet and in the Advisory Council on Foreign Affairs. The instructions given to the naval delegates were divided into 18 sections and since, unlike the instructions to the plenipotentiaries, they have not appeared in English elsewhere, each will be summarized here: 1. The level of armaments must be decided by each country individually, it must not be imposed by others. But such an attitude will lead to failure of the proposed conference that will in turn accelerate the construction race. The delegates must adopt a sincere attitude to arms limitation based on mutual respect of the sovereignty of the individual nations. 2. At least in the waters of the East, Japan is to maintain near parity/balance with the forces others are able to deploy in that area. In order to achieve that the 8–8-8 Fleet authorised by the Emperor and the Diet and announced by the Navy Ministry is the standard. But even a reduction in the 8–8 Fleet which already has budgetary approval will not be declined provided that we can maintain an appropriate ratio (emphasis mine) visà-vis the United States and Great Britain and that there are no major changes in the Pacific in the near future. (emphasis mine) 3. Agreement not to stop at future building plans but to include, as a principle, ships already commenced or already planned. Existing strength however is to be placed outside the scope of agree-ment (emphasis mine) 4. Regarding actual plans our proposals are as follows in order to ensure the effectiveness of limitation although these can be replaced by another plan provided negotiations are not to our disadvantage. a) Limitation on numbers and displacement of capital ships. b) Limitation on total tonnage of ships other than capital ships; that is cruisers, destroyers, submarines and aircraft carriers. 5. 10 year agreement in accordance with Article 8 of the League of Nations to start as soon as possible after the agreement. 6. Regarding the USA and Great Britain’s naval strengths, which must be the standard for the Japanese Navy, those two powers must resolve to


limit at the lowest level and the ratio should be left to their decision provided it does not prove to be a grave disadvantage to us but, should these two fail to agree, Japan should endeavour to mediate for an appropriate agreement. 7. Limitation of air power can never be expected to work but if it becomes possible at the conference, agreeing to it is permitted. However the current airpower of the Empire is markedly inferior to the other two countries and this ought to be borne in mind. 8. Japan is in favour of abolition or limitation of Pacific Islands fortifications but should at least press for the status quo. 9. Oppose proposals for the abolition of the submarine since it is vital for national defence. 10. In principle in agreement on limitation of armour and armaments on ships but endeavour to find scope with reference to each country’s industrial ability. 11. Unable to abolish conscription due to our situation even although this is advocated by others. 12. Regarding military service and education of military personnel and mode of military organization this should be left completely to each country’s own choice. 13. Regarding proposed limitation on stockpiling of arms, shells and military equipment in peacetime we do not approve of this proposal. 14. We do not consider that civilian armaments manufacturers in our country have adverse influence on international peace therefore we oppose limitation and changes to the present state of affairs. 15. We oppose the use of gas warfare for humanitarian reasons but take appropriate measures according to the situation at the conference. 16. We are opposed to the aerial bombardment of unprotected civilians. 17. International inspection is an infringement of sovereignty and moreover casts doubts on sincerity of the parties agreeing to a treaty. Therefore we oppose it. 18. Even though we are agreed on free exchange of military information and future plans etc. this will first have to be announced in the Diet.44 SELECTION OF DELEGATES A major problem for the Japanese government at this time was the selection of the delegation to go to Washington and especially who to select at the Plenipotentiary level. Hara Kei, the Prime Minister, was an obvious choice but, probably because of the delicate domestic position of his party, he felt it


inadvisable to go himself.45 One other factor may have been his desire to prevent conference developments from damaging his carefully nurtured relationship with the military. Since taking office, despite his avowed intention of stamping out the image of ‘militarism’ in Japan, Hara had wooed both services with impressive budgetary increases. He knew well that an international conference offered the opportunity for a gradual shift away from military expansion and even opened up the possibility of real reductions in military expenditures. In addition, the Premier saw that if the Navy Minister was sent, he could then temporarily take over that cabinet post. This would be an encroachment on the hitherto unassailable position of the service ministers in cabinet. He did record that he perceived the taking up of the Navy Minister’s portfolio on a temporary basis, as a first step to civilian Service Ministers.46 Navy Minister Admiral Katō Tomosaburō, therefore, seemed an excellent candidate. A further reason for selecting the Navy Minister was that Katō Tomosaburō was generally regarded as the ‘Father of the 8–8 Fleet’ in that he had skilfully nursed the building programme through various Diet and cabinet sessions over a number of years. The Navy Minister was therefore probably more likely to defuse criticism if elements of the 8–8 Fleet were to be scrapped or postponed. Ambassador Shidehara Kijūrō (1872– 1951) in Washington, was regarded as ideal as one of the plenipotentiaries but one who was unlikely to be able to control military representatives at the conference itself. Understandably, the Navy Minister was somewhat reluctant to accept this onerous and highly sensitive, not to say politically dangerous appointment. First, he was not proficient in English, regardless of what his biographers may say, and he was to some extent concerned about protecting his own position vis-à-vis the military, since he was known to have political ambitions beyond his service duties.47 Katō felt he lacked knowledge of diplomacy and probably did not relish assuming personal responsibility for halting plans for an 8– 8 Fleet. He suggested to the Prime Minister, that Admiral Saitō Makoto (1858–1936) would be a more appropriate choice.48 A former Navy Minister, Saitō was the first non-army appointment as Governor-General of Korea, yet another move by Hara in the direction of more effective civilian control. Hara ruled out Saitō because of the important work he was doing in Korea and moreover, the Premier felt Saito would have to spend considerable time doing research to prepare for the conference, since he was rather out of touch with naval affairs. Saito himself was, in any case, reluctant to leave Korea at this crucial time. Katō then reluctantly agreed to go, but stated that he was not very knowledgeable on diplomatic affairs and would have to depend heavily on Ambassador Shidehara for advice. Therefore he asked that the junior man be made equal


in rank with himself. One suspects that the suggestion was based, not on modesty as his biographers would have it, but on pragmatic grounds. However, there were two major problems with appointing Katō to a Plenipotentiary position. First, the American Secretary of State, Charles Evans Hughes, had hinted that it would be better not to send military men as plenipotentiaries. Second, Hara’s proposal to become Navy Minister in the Admiral’s absence required approval from at least the Navy Ministry and the Gensuifu’s naval members (Board of Fleet Admirals and Field Marshals). Katō had stated that only Admirals Shimamura Hayao and Katō Teikichi on the Supreme Military Council were qualified to act as his temporary replacement but he was reluctant to see either of these appointed. Hara’s Cabinet Legislative Bureau staff found that it was possible to interpret the regulations so as to permit Hara to take up the appointment, but Yamagata Aritomo and the army extracted a promise that such a practice would never be applied to the Army.49 Hara, on this issue of sending a military man, could possibly be accused of allowing domestic political priorities to outweigh the opportunity to defuse overseas criticisms of Japanese militarism. Katō Tomosaburō though, on the advice of Shidehara, wore civilian clothing throughout the conference. Shidehara and Katō, in diplomatic and military matters respectively, were experts and it was thought that a generalist would be a good choice for the third, and senior Plenipotentiary. He should preferably have considerable prestige, at home and abroad, and be an appointment domestically beneficial to the government of the day Itō Miyoji (1857–1934) of the Gaikō Chōsakai (Advisory Council on Foreign Affairs) was suggested but Hara opposed this. Hara appeared to have favoured Shibusawa Eichii (1840–1931) but eventually decided on Prince Tokugawa lesato (1863–1940), President of the House of Peers. A polished, cultured (Cambridge educated) figurehead is perhaps the kindest description of the man, for it was known that he had neither knowledge nor interest in arms limitation. Nevertheless, he was certainly the sort of person to assist with the more social aspects of the conference, provided of course, he could be kept away from the decisionmaking process. Prince Tokugawa was nominally in charge of the delegation but the real power was divided between Katō Tomosaburō, who mainly concentrated on arms limitation, and Shidehara who took responsibility for Pacific and Far Eastern Affairs. Later, Hanihara Masanao was promoted from delegate to Plenipotentiary status when Ambassador Shidehara became ill. The important position of Chief Naval Aide or Chief of the Technical Advisers was Katō Kanji and the reasons for his selection form the introduction to the next chapter.


This chapter has sought to show the evolving position of the Japanese Navy in terms of both arms racing and arms control. The United States was clearly designated the potential enemy by the Japanese Navy and American naval construction plans were a major influence on Japan’s own naval building plans. However, numerous other factors, domestic and international, also contributed to Japan’s involvement in a naval arms race. Regarding naval limitation, one is struck by the thorough, and in many ways positive preparation, by the Japanese Navy for the conference. The documentary evidence does not sustain the widespread conviction that the navy, whether it be the Navy Ministry or the Naval General Staff, were hostile to arms reduction proposals.50 Moreover, these findings tend to challenge the assumption that Katō Tomosaburō caused the navy to accept such thinking. In many respects, the Navy Minister appears to have reflected the findings of various naval committees rather than imposed his own viewpoints on a recalcitrant navy. Thus far, in an attempt to provide sufficient background material on naval development in general and naval arms limitation in particular, alternating chapters on Katō Kanji and the navy have been provided. In part two Katō Kanji will be the main and continuing focus and other data on naval developments and the conferences will be provided where necessary, since space precludes a full analysis of all aspects of the naval conferences. Notes 1 The best outline of the INDP is, as stated previously Professor Nomura Minoru’s summary in Rengō Kantai (1), pp. 112124. See also Shimanuki Takeharu, ‘Nichi-Ro Sensō iko ni okeru Kokubō Hōshin, Shoyō Heiryoku, Yōhei Kōryō no Hensen’, Gunji Shigaku, Vol. 8, No. 4, (March 1973), pp. 2–11, which revises his earlier findings in ‘Nihon no Kokubō Hōshin, Yōhei Kōryō’, Kokubō, (November 1961), Vol. 10, No. 3. In English the definitive study is David Evans and Mark Peattie Kaigun: Strategy, Tactics and Technology in the Imperial Japanese Navy 1887– 1941 Annapolis 1997 2 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 116. 3 ibid., p. 116. 4 Asada Sadao, The Imperial Japanese Navy and the Policy of Naval Limitation, (unpublished paper), p. 17. 5 For a general discussion see Nomura Minoru, Rekishi no naka no Kaigun, (Tokyo, 1980), pp. 28–38, ‘Sekai Kenkan Funso to Hachi-Hachi-Hachi Kantai’. 6 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 118. 7 ibid., pp. 161–163. 8 op. cit., Nomura, (1980).


9 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), pp. 157–159, but see also Nomura Minoru, Tai-Bei-Ei Kaisen to Kaigun no Tai-Bei Shichiwari Shisō’, Gunji Shigaku, Vol. 9, No. 3, (September 1973). 10 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 158. 11 For a brief description of attrition strategy see Asada Sadao, ‘The Japanese Navy and the United States’ in D Borg and S Okamoto (eds.) Pearl Harbor as History: Japanese American Relations 1931–1941, (New York, 1973), pp. 234–236.But see also Evans and Peattie op. cit. pp. 187–191 section on ‘Initial Plans for an American War’ 12 Ken Booth, Navies and Foreign Policy, (New York, 1975), postulates three roles/ duties for a navy: military, diplomatic and policing. 13 Roger Dingman, Power in the Pacific: The Origins of Naval Arms Limitation 1914– 1922, (Chicago, 1976), analyses in considerable detail the domestic factors which fuelled pre-Washington naval arms racing. 14 ibid., p. 37. 15 Stephen Roskill, Naval Policy between the Wars Vol 1 1919 1929, (London. 1968). DD. 53–54 16 ibid., p. 85. 17 ibid., pp. 73–74 and p. 89. 18 Article 8 of the League of Nations Charter. Thomas Burkman Japan, The League of Nations and the New World Order 1918–1920, Ph.D., (University of Michigan, 1975), pp. 247–249, gives a discussion of the debate and an earlier version of Article 8. 19 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), pp. 180–182 and also op. cit., Dingman, p. 78. 20 op. cit., Dingman, p. 81; op. cit., Burkman, p. 241. 21 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 180. 22 The complete text is to be found in Japanese Military Documents National Archives Microfilm item T1208. 23 Segawa Yoshinobu, ‘Washington Gunshuku Kaigi to Nihon: Kaigunsho Kokusai Renmei Kankei Jikō Kenkyūkai no Hōkoku o chushin ni’. Hōgaku Jihō, Vol. 75, No. 3, (1968), p. 67. This essay is a detailed study which quotes extensively from the original documents. It is noteworthy that the principle of equality of armaments is mentioned specifically here, this was an accepted axiom and therefore supports the view that Katō Kanji was merely reflecting long held and seriously considered naval views not simply voicing his own ‘irrational’ opinions in the conference debates. 24 See Itō Takashi and Nomura Minoru (eds.) Kaigun Taisho Kobayashi Seizō Oboegaki, (Tokyo, 1981), for this officer’s role in the various arms limitation conferences. 25 op. cit., Segawa, pp. 68–77, for a summary. 26 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 183. 27 op. cit., Segawa, pp. 67–68. 28 op. cit., Dingman, pp. 181–182; op. cit., Takeuchi, pp. 227230. 29 ibid., Dingman p. 184. 30 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 183. 31 Joseph V Guilefoile, The Japanese Press and the Washington Conference of 1921– 22, (Washington, 1949), is a useful summary. 32 op. cit., Segawa, pp. 67–68.


33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42

43 44 45

46 47 48 49 50

ibid., p. 69. ibid., p. 7l. ibid., p. 72. ibid., pp. 81–82. op. cit., Gaimushō (eds.), pp. 797ff. ibid., p. 817. ibid., pp. 817–831, provides an excellent overview of these discussions. ibid., pp. 811–812. ibid., p. 815. The background to the code-breaking is to be found in Herbert Yardley, The American Black Chamber, (New York, 1981), pp. 163211. A five page appendix on the generally accurate nature of the translated documents is to be found in Asada Sadao, Japan and the United States 1915–1925, Ph.D., (Yale 1963). There are numerous references to another book which Yardley was not permitted to publish on the Washington Conference. In fact the manuscript was written by Marie Stuart Klooz from documents supplied by Yardley and is 19 chapters, 920 pages long. It is located in the US Ministry of Justice files Record Group 60 235334 under the ‘provisional title’ Japanese Diplomatic Secrets 1921–1922. For its background see David Kahn, ‘A New Source for Historians: Yardley’s Seized Manuscript’, Cryptologia, Vol. 6 No. 2, (April 1982), pp. 115–118. op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 183. op. cit., Nihon Gaikō Monjo: Washington Kaigi, Vol. 1, (Tokyo, 1977), pp. 185– 187. For an analysis of Hara’s political position at this time see op. cit., Dingman and Peter Duus, Party Rivalry and Political Change in Taisha Japan, (Cambridge, Mass., 1968). Hara Takashi (ed.), Hara Kei Nikki, (Tokyo, 1950), pp. 465468 covering period October 5–7, 1921. op. cit., Dingman, p. 191. op. cit., Gaimushō (eds.), pp. 820–821. ibid., p. 820. See especially the various works of Asada Sadao listed in the bibliography.

PART II Katō and Naval Limitation

CHAPTER 4 Katō at Washington, 1921–22

Katō Kanji’s appointment to the Washington delegation in September 1921 marks a watershed in his career development and his thinking on the subject of naval arms limitation. By any standards Katō’s naval career so far had been highly successful and his rise extremely rapid. He was seen as a man of considerable talent, destined for the very highest naval posts. Thus far his career, with the possible exception of the Vladivostok episode, had been relatively uncontroversial. He was a well-known and respected figure in military circles at home and abroad but to the general public he was at this time relatively unknown. His participation in the Washington Conference was to bring him national prominence. Katō’s role at the conference was both important and at times controversial. Although he attended the conference in an advisory, not a decision-making, capacity, Katō was nevertheless a person of some influence. However, it would be easy and errone-ous, to ascribe too great an importance to his role at Washington. Nevertheless, Katō’s thoughts and acts prior to and during the conference have received much comment. They are crucial to an understanding of Japanese naval matters at the conference and also to an understanding of Katō’s own future behaviour regarding naval arms control in both naval and domestic politics. KATŌ’S APPOINTMENT AS CHIEF TECHNICAL ADVISER Newspapers began carrying unofficial reports of Katō’s appointment as early as the second week of September 1921. His official appointment dated from 21 September. At this time Katō had served only thirteen months as President of the Naval College.1 Surprisingly, since Katō’s activities at Washington have been much criticised, writings on the conference offer few hypotheses as to why the navy selected him for the important post of Chief


Technical Adviser. His appointment has puzzled scholars and Ian Nish, noting this, has suggested that Katō was associated with Captain Suetsugu Nobumasa as the advocate of the big fleet and an opponent of naval limitation.2 He therefore concluded that: his (Katō’s) inclusion is therefore something of a mystery and can only be explained on the hypothesis that the Japanese in their desire for consensus wished to include representatives of discordant elements within the navy.3 Evans and Peattie have also stated ‘because Katō Kanji represented a significant element in Japanese naval opinion, he was asked to join the delegation’.4 Japanese scholars have often indicated that Katō was a member of the Kyōkōha (hard-line faction) in the navy and therefore the above hypothesis would appear to have a certain plausibility. Perhaps such writers have been too much influenced by Katō’s actions later, as a consequence of events at Washington, since there is no clear evidence that he was strongly opposed to naval arms control prior to the conference. There are a number of other factors that explain his appointment equally well. Moreover, these reasons do not rely on judgements based on Katō’s behaviour in later years. Perhaps the easiest and the most obvious reason for his selection was that Navy Minister Katō Tomosaburō believed that Katō Kanji was simply the best man available for the job. It is known that the Naval General Staff had nominated Rear Admiral Moriyama Keizaburō for the position, but the elder Katō had rejected him and selected Katō Kanji instead. Moriyama was a Naval General Staff officer interested in continental expansion and fearful of American strategic encirclement.5 He would therefore appear to have been a good choice had ‘hardliners’ or ‘discordant elements’ been required in the Washington delegation. Of course it could well be argued that Katō Tomosaburō was merely replacing one ‘hardliner’ with another who was simply better qualified. Moriyama had spent most of his time abroad in France and expertise on the French Navy and the European naval situation would have been useful. Moriyama had also spent time in Mexico and commanded a naval squadron patrolling American coasts in the First World War. Negotiations at the conference required, however, a thorough command of English. It is reasonable to assume that Moriyama’s best language was French. Katō Kanji was certainly highly competent in English as various

KATŌ AT WASHINGTON 1921–22 99

accounts by attaches clearly testify. Yet there are reasons for supposing that Katō Kanji’s utility to the negotiating team at Washington went far beyond mere linguistic proficiency. In the first place, Katō’s technical expertise was highly regarded both inside Japan and abroad. He had an international reputation as a gunnery expert and, as his period as attaché in England showed, he was something of an authority on naval construction with a thorough knowledge of British shipbuilding. Katō had only recently returned from a European and American inspection tour as head of a naval technical mission and therefore had an excellent, up-to-date grasp of technical naval developments in the West. Secondly, Katō had some experience in negotiating military agreements, both formally and informally, with British and American officers. He had been a member of the team that drafted the military agreement accompanying the Second Anglo-Japanese Alliance. He had also conducted complex negotiations during the First World War with leading British officers in the British China Squadron. Moreover, he had been at the very centre of highly complex and sensitive diplomatic and military negotiations during the Siberian Intervention at Vladivostok in 1919 with British, American and Russian military and diplomatic personnel. He was regarded as the leading expert on Russia in the Japanese Navy and, since Siberia was to be discussed, this may have been an additional factor in his selection. Katō was on good terms with many American and especially British naval officers and had served with the latter in the Far East, with Anzac support ships on their way to Europe and on duties in the Mediterranean during the First World War. He had been awarded the MVO and KCMG by the British Government and also held the American DSO.6 Katō Tomosaburō may have had other reasons for appointing Katō Kanji which related to negotiating strategy. Katō Kanji was not at this time a Naval General Staff officer and the elder Katō may have preferred an ‘academic’ officer for this sensitive position. Image-consciousness aside, Katō Kanji was a forceful arguer in committees and, combined with his talent for English, this may have been perceived by the Navy Minister as an asset to the Japanese delegation and especially himself given his lack of competence in English. Japanese negotiators, culturally, linguistically and with only limited experience in international negotiating, were at a certain disadvantage in face to face discussions with the more positive and assertive American contingent. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Katō already possessed a considerable knowledge of naval arms limitation. He had been naval attaché in London during the abortive naval limitation discussions between Britain and Germany over ratios in the period immediately prior to World War One.


In addition, he had recently served on the tri-ministerial preparatory conference on planning for the Washington Conference during 1921. Katō was therefore clearly extremely well qualified, linguistically, technically and in other ways. He did, as was stated above, have first-hand knowledge of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance and Siberia, in other words his expertise went beyond technical naval matters. In addition to this, his knowledge of Western navies, Western naval officers and technical matters make it difficult to suggest a better choice for the position. Katō’s forceful, not to say argumentative and direct manner, may not have endeared him to Japanese colleagues, or even British ones. Nevertheless, as someone in an advisory position only, such a characteristic may well have been precisely what the elder Katō required. KATŌ’S THINKING PRIOR TO THE CONFERENCE There is an almost total consensus in scholarly writings that Katō was a hardliner on arms limitation prior to the Washington Conference. However, an extensive search of archival materials provides little evidence in support of this interpretation. In April 1921, Katō was visited by the US Naval Attaché in Tokyo and he reported that: In regard to reduction of armaments, Katō spoke warmly in favour of it, and gave as his conviction the necessity for calling a conference to reconcile the vital conflicting national policies of the various countries in the world. He declared instead of agreeing to a formula for naval strength the nations should bend their best endeavours to reconciling the national policies whose clashes cause wars. He considers that any more wars should be unthinkable, and is very anxious to do everything possible to avert them. He declared that Japan does not wish to push herself into America but stated that she must have the opportunity to expand on the continent of Asia, and America must not endeavour to restrict Japan’s expansion so long as America herself is not affected… referring to limitation of armaments, he said that each power should send a delegate of the calibre of Chief Justice Taft and that these delegates should lay on the table only vital policies and then reconcile them with mutual understanding and sympathy.7


The attaché concluded that Katō was ‘one of the very best Japanese naval officers. A leader’. Interestingly, he added:’…his enemies call him narrowminded and a radical’.8 In September Katō spoke twice to the British Naval Attaché, the second time in the presence of the British Ambassador. The attaché reported thus: Admiral Katō is eulogistic on the motives which have prompted the President of the USA to convene this conference, and he says that in his opinion and that of broadminded, thinking Japanese it is one of the greatest things that has ever happened in the history of the Empire…Of the three powers concerned Admiral Katō said he thought that probably Great Britain was the most anxious for reduction in naval expenditure, and America came next. However, now that the position had been put before the people of Japan they also realised that the finances of their country were not as satisfactory as they have recently been and curtailment of expenditures on armaments would be a great boon, and conducive to the betterment of civil life.9 On being pressed by both the attaché and the ambassador regarding his thoughts on the forthcoming conference Katō replied that ‘he could not imagine it would be anything except successful’.10 Katō then proceeded to state what he felt to be the most important matters which would arise at the conference. He believed these to be naval disarmament, military (army) and he provided two rather contradictory comments. At the first meeting with the naval attaché Katō was extremely critical of the army stating it ought to be halved. This was a common contemporary naval standpoint reflecting primarily budgetary considerations. He added that the ‘Military Party’, in Japan would soon fall. In the second interview he stated, guardedly, that he really had no knowledge of the subject himself and that the army must remain at full strength. Katō felt that China would be the most difficult issue, that patience was necessary and also thought that the Japanese public were strongly opposed to any form of international control. Regarding Siberia Katō surprisingly had little to say other than the policy remained unchanged. Returning to naval aspects Katō volunteered the view that ‘all the Japanese Delegates will go to Washington in good heart’. On being pressed as to the actual nature of naval limitation negotiations Katō stated that naval reductions had been much discussed but not yet seriously tackled in Japan. Nevertheless, he felt sure that financial restrictions would be put forward by the Americans as the best method, a suggestion the British Naval Attaché found to be a ‘rather unlikely possibility’. Katō added that he favoured the


prohibition of construction of capital ships and, at the same time limiting the displacement in construction of same. He did not believe the abolition of submarines or mines could be achieved since they were ‘a valuable arm to a weaker power’. On Pacific Fortifications Katō found the public clamour for the demolition of fortifications to be rather unrealistic. He was well aware of the vast sums which America would need to allocate to Guam and other Pacific islands to make them worthwhile and the difficulties of obtaining congressional approval for such expenditure. The report stated that Katō felt that an agreement would be useful that ‘these islands will not be further adapted for Naval requirements would greatly help matters’.11 He went on to say that the Loochoos and the Bonins were, in fact, merely way stations for small ships to stay for shelter and had been fortified by the Army. He could see no possible excuse for doing more than making them minor naval stations. Katō concluded that he was pleased to think that the Navy Minister Katō Tomosaburō would lead the delegation and spoke highly of him. Apparently something had changed Katō’s opinions on naval arms limitation and other matters between his conversations with the American naval attaché and his meeting with the British naval attaché and between the two interviews with the latter. At the time of his early discussions with the American officer Katō was not directly involved in preparatory talks on naval limitation. It is probably fair to say that his initial thoughts accurately reflected his own personal views. For Katō the problem was not to secure an arms limitation agreement since this would treat the symptoms (the arms race) rather than the cause (international misunderstandings). Here Katō can be seen as not so much as ‘hostile’ to arms limitation but as someone who felt that it was of secondary importance. By September he knew there had to be a conference and was actively participating in the pre-conference negotiations in Japan. Moreover, his change of heart may well have been due to being directly involved in negotiations with the army after the first attaché interview. There is no doubt that there was much concern and sensitivity on the part of the army regarding the arms limitation and Far Eastern issues.12 One would have to say that Katō always believed that arms limitation was not the central problem. it was a symptom and the problem was essentially a political one. Prior to his departure Katō had penned a long and wide-ranging article in the journal Taiyō.13 It was printed during the conference but after his departure. This article showed clearly that Katō had studied past efforts at disarmament and arms limitation in some considerable detail. It also showed an impressive knowledge of recent Western writings on the subject. Katō found that previous conferences had advocated arms limitation and reduction for fiscal reasons or to freeze the status quo in a way that benefited their own


position. He strongly criticised this approach and, expounding on motivations for arms reduction, pointed to the previous failures at the Hague Conferences, the Anglo-German Negotiations before the Great War and the League of Nations efforts on disarmament. He also cited a statement by then United States Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels in 1913 calling for a naval holiday. Katō was most suspicious of the motives behind previous proposals and negotiations. He argued that negotiating arms reductions merely because armaments were becoming too expensive was insincere and that it was often merely an effort to freeze the status quo in favour of certain nations at particularly suitable times. He then added that he felt that America’s problems on naval armament resulted from her decision to remain outside the League of Nations. Moving on to reductions themselves Katō stated: Britain and America will have to decide on a one power standard and Japan, at a level not exceeding the standard set by the USA and Great Britain, will agree to the minimum limitation of naval power that will not endanger the defence and existence of our country.14 As to how reductions would be carried out Katō believed that auxiliary vessels and commercial trade were not relevant factors and that the element that decided naval power was the battleship (capital ship) and that those vessels were to decide the naval standard. Katō concluded that the requirement for a large number of ships simply to protect merchant shipping was old fashioned. He concluded: …namely, if we are to decide the limits on Japan’s naval power it must be, at all costs the standard set by the USA and Great Britain who are the most powerful. There is no other way… Japan must decide her naval strength, not by comparing levels of national wealth nor by overseas trade but by free judgement as to what will effectively deter invasion by a hostile power. Naval limitation must also incorporate limitation of ‘base power’ (Pacific Fortifications). For example when other countries construct large bases in areas surrounding Japan it is natural that they become a threat to Japan and we must take countermeasures.15 On 2 October 1921, Katō Kanji accompanied by his naval team, some civilian staff and journalists, set off for Washington in advance of the main


Japanese delegation. Katō boarded the Corea Maru at Yokohama and on the quayside had this to say: When I cross the Pacific I intend to speak out and explain things but it would be somewhat premature to say anything here. However, even if we do loudly proclaim our theories I do not know if our proposals will be accepted by the Great Powers since, as everyone knows, Japan is a small naval power.Therefore, ultimately the most important aspects of naval limitation will depend on the thinking of the Great Powers. In other words it all depends on the attitudes of Great Britain and the United States towards this problem. Regarding the (Japanese) Empire it goes without saying that we hold to the principle of restricting naval power to the minimum limits commensurate with national defence. To realise this we must first discuss the power of the great navies of Great Britain and the United States as the basis (for a standard of armament). In the present situation, seen from the principle of national defence, the US navy is excessive but more than that I cannot say.16 Katō here again was restating the idea of allowing the United States and Great Britain to set a standard or upper limit. One should also note the barbed final comment on the ‘excessive size’ of the American Navy. Here his own, and the Japanese Navy’s suspicions of the United States are clear and, given the impending conference, this statement must be regarded as somewhat frank and lacking in caution. Fortunately, it went unnoticed by Western military intelligence sources in Japan. On the sea voyage to the United States, Katō and his colleagues held daily meetings to shape their strategy for the conference. The naval team were naturally fully aware of the research already carried out under Navy Ministry auspices. Their task was now to fully digest the instructions issued by the Japanese government. With these in mind, they would then try to anticipate what the Americans, who they felt would take the initiative, had in mind. In other words, they attempted to forecast the American proposals on the basis of the latest information from the government and the latest military intelligence. After landing at Honolulu, Katō’s team met United States naval authorities, both civilian and military, on a number of occasions. On at least two of these occasions Katō publicly requested advance information on the American proposals so as to assist his research17 However, Secretary of State Hughes had ensured a tight security screen and, in any case, most of the top echelon of the United States Navy were unaware of the details of the


American plan.18 Katō’s team eventually produced their outline of the American proposals as follows: 1. Arms limitation and ‘Pacific and Far East’ discussions will be held in parallel from the outset. 2. The United States will issue concrete proposals at the very outset. 3. The anticipated content of the American plan will be as follows: a) A ratio of power between the United States, Britain and Japan will be decided. b) An outline will be given from appraisals of national strength, level of necessity as well as existing strength. There will be a decision favouring parity between the United States and Great Britain and Japan’s ratio will be somewhat different from this. 4. Regarding the United States Navy’s three year plan they will scrap approximately one third and scrap 4 or 5 Indiana class battleships. But regarding battle-cruisers they will construct these faster as they are indispensable to their long distance strategy. 5. They will abolish a considerable number of superannuated vessels. 6. They will extend ship age and, if the ships are suitable for duty, do without replacement vessels. 7. They will probably propose a construction holiday since this is distinctly advantageous to the United States and Great Britain. 8. Since the Anglo-Japanese Alliance forms the basis of the United States standard (of naval strength), the Americans will make every effort to scrap it. 9. On Pacific Fortifications, if Japan brings up this problem then the United States will insist that the first line of the United States defence is east of Hawaii and will stress they will build fortifications there if they so wish. Regarding the Philippines and Guam the US will respond on condition that Japan reduces defences likewise. However it will not agree unless these islands ‘security is absolutely assured after a sufficient understanding has been obtained in relation to scrapping of the AngloJapanese Treaty and Japan’s Asian Policy.19 In certain respects the predictions were surprisingly accurate. On technical issues however, the Japanese predictions were rather closer to the plans the United States Navy General Board might have drawn up. But Hughes kept this and other top naval policy bodies ignorant of his plans. The thinking of


Katō’s team thus reflected either excellent naval intelligence or ‘mirror imaging’ in terms of strategic thinking. However, his team did not accurately predict the main elements of the final American ‘political’ proposals. It was inevitable that Katō would have some dealings with the press prior to his arrival at Washington. Katō spoke to journalists at Honolulu shortly after his arrival. He stressed that sincerity and a strong desire for limitation were vital otherwise ‘we cannot expect anything but the failure that has attended previous conferences on the reduction of armaments’.20 On 18 October, he was reported as saying that he was glad the conference was being held in the United States and that no one surpassed Japan in earnestness regarding the conference. He went on to say that as a result of his recent trips to Europe and America he had come to believe than an international conference was necessary ‘to clear away international misunderstandings’ and that ‘international differences seem to be derived from mere misunderstandings’. Katō said he had privately advocated such a conference, a reference possibly to his talks with the United States Naval Attaché in Tokyo. He warned that people should not be too Utopian about how much the conference could achieve but that every effort towards the goal of prevention of war should be made. He concluded that one of the first steps for ‘the leading nations of the world is to reaffirm the acknowledged principle that all armaments should be based on bare necessities….21 Katō at times used the press skilfully in order to pressure the Americans by pleading for more information for his party. Yet it was perhaps inevitable that some remarks attributed to him would cause concern to the authorities at home. On 28 October, a report was received in Tokyo regarding a statement by Katō that: Japan’s financial position does not allow the government to expend an enormous amount for naval armament. Consequently the scope of the armaments of the Japanese Navy must be minimised, irrespective of the decision of the conference.22 The Asahi Shinbun newspaper stated this to be contrary to Navy Ministry policy. The naval authorities, whilst clearly concerned believed Katō to have been misquoted in that there were probably errors in the transmission of the report.


THE WASHINGTON CONFERENCE The Conference opened on 12 November 1921. It was in effect two separate though inter-related conferences, one on arms limitation and the other on Pacific and Far Eastern affairs.23 The primary concern here is the issue of arms limitation, particularly naval arms limitation. Therefore the conference will be treated rather narrowly, focusing mainly on naval arms limitation in detail and touching on other arms limitation issues or Pacific and Far Eastern questions only where necessary. The opening address, following the Prayer, was given by President Warren Harding of the United States. Arthur James Balfour of Great Britain then proposed Charles Evans Hughes, American Secretary of State, as Chairman of the Conference. Hughes made a speech and announced the proposals drawn up by the United States side regarding naval arms limitation. The nature and extent of these proposals surprised and shocked the audience at this vast international gathering. Hughes next proposed that preparatory committees be set up to decide the agenda of the Arms Limitation Committee and the Pacific and Far Eastern Committee and these were to run parallel with each other. Baron (Admiral) Katō Tomosaburō assumed principal responsibility for Japan’s arms limitation negotiations and Baron Shidehara for Pacific and Far Eastern questions. Due to illness during the conference, Shidehara was unable to carry out all his duties and a fourth plenipotentiary, Hanihara Masanao, was also appointed. Nevertheless, even from his sickbed, Shidehara influenced Katō Tomosaburō’s thinking and decisions on naval limitation-related issues. The two Japanese leaders worked well together and did not, apparently, observe strict lines of demarcation regarding their respective spheres of authority. NAVAL LIMITATION Hughes launched his carefully conceived plan for naval limitation on a totally, or almost totally, unprepared audience. Katō Kanji and his technical team, as was shown earlier, had attempted to forecast the American position and had only been partially successful. Undoubtedly other delegations had done likewise. The other delegations, including the British who were suspected by many as being party to the United States proposals were, like the Japanese, taken unawares by the nature and detailed extent of the proposals. Hughes began by stating that all competition in naval programmes must cease immediately; that agreement and sacrifice from all countries was necessary; that capital ships, which according to his experts were the true measure of naval strength, were to be the basis for an agreement with


auxiliary vessels in a ‘reasonable relation’ to capital ship tonnage allowed. Finally he proposed that there be a ‘naval holiday’ of ten years before replacement building of capital ships could commence. On capital ships Hughes excluded for the time being the issue of French and Italian allocations and ratios, but these nations were to participate in the initial negotiations. Hughes put forward four main principles: 1. That all capital ships building, either actual or projected, should be abandoned. 2. That further reduction be made through the scrapping of older ships. 3. That, in general, regard should be had to the existing naval strength of the powers concerned. 4. That the capital ship tonnage should be used as a measure of strength for navies and a proportionate allowance of auxiliary combatant craft prescribed.24 Before the assembled audience could recover from the sweeping nature of the proposals Hughes delivered yet another surprise. He now proposed an extremely detailed plan giving figures not only for the United States, but also for Great Britain and Japan as well. In brief, Hughes proposed the scrapping of ships built and building as follows: Country

Number of ships

Total Tonnage

USA GB JAPAN TOTAL

30 19 17 66

845,740 583,375 448,938 1,878.043

After three months the ratio of capital ships was to be: Country

Number of ships

Total Tonnage

GB USA Japan

22 18 10

604,450 500,650 299,700

Replacements, to commence after the ten year moratorium, were to be so tailored as to result in an agreed capital ship tonnage of: Country

Number of ships

Total Tonnage

GB

5

500,000


Country

Number of ships

Total Tonnage

USA Japan

5 3

500,000 300,00025

Capital ships were to be replaced, subject to the ten-year holiday after they had reached twenty years of age and no capital ship thereafter was to exceed 35,000 tons. This latter figure was rumoured to be the maximum tonnage for ships to pass through the Panama Canal. Auxiliary ships were to be included in the limitation agreement but no precise details were put forward at this point in time. The most colourful statement on the response of the audience to Hughes dramatic proposal was made by Gabrielle d’ Annunzio who wrote: It has been said again and again that when Charles Hughes with unexpected boldness proposed the destruction of ships, all the white puppets jumped as though the wire had suddenly been broken while the yellow puppets remained as blandly insensible as sheathed sabres of well tempered steel.26 Theodore Roosevelt Junior, who was to play a central role in technical negotiations with Katō Kanji, wrote in his diary that the British response was as follows: Lord Lee, the First Lord of the Admiralty, turned several colours of the rainbow and behaved as if he were sitting on hot coals Beatty, after the first step, sat with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Admiral Chatfield on his left turned red and then white.27 Katō Kanji, in a lecture at the Japanese Naval War College after the conference, stated that this response by the British and the fact that they rushed off afterwards, were clear evidence that suspicions of pre-conference collusion on the part of the British and the Americans were unfounded.28 Roosevelt went on to say: The Japanese sat with immovable faces looking straight ahead and I failed to notice any of them speak while the matter was going on.29 Katō Kanji described the elder Katō’s response thus:


Katō, Chief Plenipotentiary, while he had previously recognised the difficulties, was extremely concerned because of the vast scale of the proposals and their influence not merely on Japan’s material strength but on the personnel and the morale of the future navy.30 However, Katō went on to say that his chief realised that he would have to go along with the spirit of the times and: resolved to respond to the spirit of the proposal and gathered civilian and official Japanese at the embassy immediately afterwards to tell them his thoughts.31 The next day Katō Tomosaburō stated to the press that Japan was not seeking equality with the British and American Fleets and that he was in no doubt that a complete understanding could be reached.32 Later, in conversation with Balfour he said: When I first heard Mr Hughes scheme I was surprised at its being so drastic but at the same time I resolved that, on the whole, I must support the principle underlying it.33 He also told Hughes later that he had, at first, been hardly able to comprehend the full purport but his immediate second thoughts were that it was essential to accept in principle.[33] At the Second Plenary Session on the 15th Katō Tomosaburō responded to the ‘Hughes Proposal’ as follows: Gladly accepting, therefore, the proposal in principle, Japan is ready to proceed with determination to a sweeping reduction in her naval armament. It will be universally admitted that a nation must be provided with such armaments as are essential to its security. This requirement must be fully weighed in the examination of the plan. With this requirement in view, a few modifications will be proposed with regard to the tonnage basis on the replacement of the various classes of vessels.34 Roosevelt pointed out, correctly, that the press would take this as an acceptance of the ‘Hughes proposal’ whereas it was, in fact, a carefully hedged reply.35 Shortly afterwards the Japanese delegation and especially the ‘Two Katō’s were to be accused of reneging on this ‘acceptance’ especially as the Japanese counterproposals for an increased tonnage and improved ratio came


out into the open. A number of points in this ‘acceptance’ ought to be borne in mind for an understanding of how things were to develop from this time onward. First, Katō Tomosaburō was holding to the principle of ‘national need’ not ‘existing strength’ as put forward by Hughes. Second, he was clearly indicating a dissatisfaction with the tonnage allocated to Japan and therefore, in effect with the ratio. Indeed, as he was to tell Hughes later, his interpretation was that the ratio was to come into effect after ten years and he did not accept that this was the ratio as of November 1921.36 Clearly there were problems ahead for the Chief Plenipotentiary and also for Katō Kanji, who for a short time, occupied the centre stage. THE SUB-COMMITTEE OF NAVAL EXPERTS This major international conference spanned a long period of time and a bewildering variety of complex, inter-related subjects. Therefore there was a plethora of committees and subcommittees, some temporary, others more permanent. This structure proves somewhat confusing for researchers on the Washington Conference who have to cope with committees and sub committees where the official titles of those bodies are either not used or often altered almost beyond recognition. For example ‘naval technical subcommittees’ is a term used to describe the committee we are about to examine in detail here. However, in many instances, references have been found to other committees with the same title but quite different functions. In addition, it was the case that similar terminology encompassed committees within delegations as well as committees of the conference itself. The Washington Conference was really two conferences with two Committees of the Whole: The Committee on Limitation of Armaments and the Committee on Pacific and Far Eastern Questions. The former comprised Delegates of the Five Powers with Katō Tomosaburō representing Japan. The latter comprised Delegates from the Nine Powers with Shidehara Kijūrō and sometimes Hanihara Masanao representing Japan. The first meeting of the full Committee on the Limitation of Armaments commenced with an immediate examination of the principal matter at hand, the issue of naval limitation. The Delegates then decided that a technical committee, comprising one technical adviser from each of the Five Powers, be f formed and it was: ‘to take under immediate advisement the questions raised by the US proposals on naval limitation’.37 Aristide Briand of France proposed that this sub-committee submit, at the earliest possible date, recommendations on which agreement could easily be reached and the Committee fully supported this. At Mr Balfour’s suggestion, Colonel


Theodore Roosevelt Jnr., Assistant Secretary for the Navy (USA) was appointed Chairman. The members of the newly created sub-committee were Colonel Theodore Roosevelt Jnr. (USA) Chairman; Admiral Beatty (GB); Vice-Admiral Baron Acton (Italy); Admiral de Bon (France) and ViceAdmiral Katō Kanji (Japan). The official record of the conference stated regarding the sub-committee called The Sub-committee of Naval Experts’: Resolved that the expert subcommittee should be notified that it was the instrument of the Committee alone and that publicity with regard to any of the subjects under discussion should be given through the medium of the Committee.38 Roosevelt, the Chairman of the committee of experts was of course a political appointee to the Department of the Navy and an army man by training. This was in contrast with the ‘naval/technical’ nature of the other committee members. Following discussions with Hughes, Roosevelt briefed those members of the committee who were available at the time: The instructions that were to govern the committee are that this committee is purely a technical one and its duties are to discuss purely the technical questions. It is in no way to consider itself a committee from which publicity can emanate, but is considered a committee of advisors. Anything in the nature of policy is not properly in the reference.39 Roosevelt then suggested that they meet at 10.30 am on the following day, 16 November. That evening Roosevelt and Katō Kanji dined together and apparently Katō surprised the American by alluding to the possibility that the conference might fail.40 Roosevelt recorded in his diary that this was the first time he had ever heard a Japanese allude to the possibility of the conference failing. But, in fact, Katō had merely commented that, in the event of the conference failing, his invitation to Roosevelt to come to Japan would still be open. Roosevelt’s diary also mentions Katō’s eyes lighting up ‘as he spoke of the samurai and their songs’ and one scholar has stated that a true insight into Katō’s behaviour at Washington is to be found in Roosevelt’s diaries!41 The next morning the first meeting of the Sub-Committee of Naval Experts took place and Roosevelt recorded his plan of campaign for the first meeting as follows:


I had planned to ask the various people to submit their amendments and suggestions in writing, my tactics being to, on their receipt, read them all aloud to the conferees assembled and then take them up in rotation as has been the case in the meetings of the delegates. As I see it, if it is possible we will reach agreement with England, France and Italy first Then if the Japanese are recalcitrant, the committee can report unanimously with one dissenting vote.42 However, events did not proceed exactly as planned and a series of complex negotiations thus began. Unfortunately, despite a thorough search of the United States archival materials on the conference, and despite finding numerous references to stenographic records of this committee as well as requests from the Conference Secretariat for copies of the minutes, no recorded minutes or verbatim reports of these meetings came to light. What follows is a synthesis of the recollections of Katō Kanji at the time (telegrams to the home government), Colonel Roosevelt’s diary and the notes taken by the British. Later Katō Kanji explained in some detail what had actually happened and all in all, there is a large area where the different accounts concur. Katō Kanji noted, cryptically, in his diary for this first meeting ‘will announce 70%’ but Japanese correspondents such as Itō Masanori of the Jiji Shinpō, either based on leaks or educated guesswork had been forecasting the 70% demand from around 15 November onwards.43 Roosevelt opened the first meeting of the sub-committee in accordance with his strategy but Admiral Beatty (GB), refused to respond as Roosevelt had hoped and stated that he was not prepared to make his comments in writing. Beatty confined himself simply to stating that he needed further explanations regarding the replacement programme. France and Italy had little to add since the issue of the ratio of capital ships for France and Italy was to be decided after the ‘Big Three’ had resolved their ratio problems. Next it was Katō Kanji’s turn to speak. Roosevelt recorded it as follows: Last of all came Japan who put down a concrete proposal requesting that their percentage be raised from sixty to seventy as compared with Great Britain and the United States: requesting equality in aircraft carriers and giving as two ships which she wished to retain in her programme, the Mutsu and the Aki. Her entire impression was based on two thoughts: a) that each nation had the right to determine what was necessary for her defence; b) that this navy was her minimum


requirement. She, at no time alluded to the existing strength of naval powers, which of course is the basis of our argument.44 Roosevelt then turned again to Beatty who once again hedged, asking what the basis for auxiliaries was to be. He also requested that Britain’s European situation be taken into account. Roosevelt then proposed that Beatty’s comment be the basis for a resolution to be submitted to the main committee. Roosevelt concluded this entry by saying that he ‘hoped to be able to get more concrete statements from the English’.45 Since a number of commentators on the Conference as well as participants such as Shidehara, have intimated that Katō Kanji was pressing his own case in the sub-committee, it is worth noting the way Roosevelt recorded it. His diary entry does not mention Katō Kanji by name. One may assume this is because it was clear that Katō expressed the official Japanese position not his personal view; although undoubtedly Katō fully concurred with the official Japanese position. The American press at the time, and many scholars writing on the conference, have implied that Katō Kanji was the first member of the Japanese delegation to publicly advocate a 70% vis-à-vis the United States at Washington. Either directly or indirectly, it has also been suggested that Katō was putting forward his own, narrow, military/strategic viewpoint in the discussions with other technical experts. However, British records of the conference state as follows: At the first meeting of the sub-committee on Limitation of Armaments (sic), the Chief of the Japanese Naval Experts, acting under instruction of Baron Katō, declared that the ratio of 70 per cent for Japan, is in accord with the spirit of safeguarding the interests of all concerned, as expounded in the preamble of the original Hughes proposal.46 (emphasis mine) Roosevelt’s diary entry for 30 November states: The only new development in Admiral Katō’s statement was that he officially said that he had asked for a ten: seven ratio on the insistence of Baron Katō.47 (emphasis mine) Roosevelt reported the results of the first meeting to Hughes and stated that Japan would not dare refuse to compromise and upset the conference. He noted that Hughes, for the first time, was slightly worried’. Roosevelt went


on to suggest that Japan might, if she disrupted the conference, become an outlaw and if she had justice on her side it would be one thing, but she has no justice in her contention and has been given by the United States more than her due consideration.48 By this ‘consideration’ Roosevelt was referring to the fact that Japan, according to American calculations, was not even entitled to a ratio of 10:6 vis-à-vis the United States. On that same day Itō Masanori was confidently predicting that Japan would ask for 70% whilst the Washington Post claimed that Katō Tomosaburō was asking for ‘slightly greater than 60%’.49 One commentator stated that these differences were the result of Katō Tomosaburō giving two interviews, one in Japanese stating that Japan’s experts believed 70% to be the absolute minimum, and a statement in English to the Western journalists later that day asking for ‘slightly greater than 60%’.50 Such a conclusion is certainly plausible especially if Katō Tomosaburō’s words were ‘off the record’ for the Japanese press but has not been possible to substantiate this by means of contemporary records. Negotiations began in earnest on the following day. After the second meeting Katō was invited back to Roosevelt’s office for a private discussion. Since this was the first real discussion between the leading ‘naval specialists’ of Japan and the United States it may be useful to examine both Roosevelt’s and Katō’s account of this private talk. Roosevelt recorded the conversation thus in his diary: After the meeting, I took Admiral Katō back with me to the office. He brought with him Uyeda and his (Uyeda’s) interpreter. I kept no one. I told him that I was speaking to him alone as one gentleman to another and in a non-official capacity. I tried to strike a basis with him by saying that I was not going to blarney him, that I was not coming to him with empty hands and loud promises as I felt that that type of approach was worth but little, and as I was not that kind of a man. I told him that I admired and respected Japan, but that he, if I judged him right, and I were both perfectly willing to fight each other at any time, in the interest of our mutual countries. I then gave him the basis of the existing tonnage that we had used in making our determinations. He did not at once comprehend and kept reverting to his statement of national needs. At last, however, I think I got him clearly to understand what I


was after. We then debated to and fro for a period at the end of which time he told me that he felt that the national need of his country depended on a ratio of ten to seven, and that, if I understood him correctly, he would commit suicide if he had to return to Japan with anything less. I told him I was equally determined on ten to six, and he left. As he was leaving he got up and told me that as Samurai gentleman he appreciated my reception of him, and that as a Samurai gentleman, during negotiations he would never lie or deceive me in any way. I have no idea as to whether our conference has done any good. There were but two things I really hoped to accomplish from it anyhow. One was to get them to think in terms of existing tonnage, and the other to convince them that we were showing no signs of yielding.51 Katō Kanji told an audience at the Naval War College shortly after his return to Japan: The problem of the 70% ratio first began in an interview between Roosevelt and myself on 17 November. It was an unofficial meeting. Roosevelt said ‘regarding the Japanese proposal (70%) I regret that, on our part, I must state clearly that there is no scope for compromise. Japan’s ratio of 10:6 is based on total tonnage of existing capital ships. This is a comparative calculation and the actual power decided was calculated from two categories. First, total tonnage afloat, that is operational, and second, a separate listing of ships under construction. In the latter category a construction ratio was added. For example those which were 60% completed were classed as 60% of total tonnage. As to the Mutsu she was 98% complete (We (the Japanese) had corrected this misunderstanding on the 16th.) Of course, I do not think this calculation method is perfect. The various kinds of calculations all have their defects but this one has the least. Roosevelt then said ‘according to US calculations, even though Japan’s existing strength comes to less than 50% of that of America, bearing in mind Japan’s present prestige they would raise it to 60%. He went on to say that with auxiliary vessels this ratio of tonnage offered almost no scope for America and Great Britain to commence construction whilst it gave Japan sufficient scope for further building and this applied in the case of submarines. According to Hughes, we (America) have a basic plan which disregards the principle of ‘national need’. But if America were to adopt the latter standpoint the US naval


authorities would demand a doubling of the existing naval power and Britain too must be the same. Each country’s disputes all follow each other around and there will be no end to this discussion. For this reason Hughes, in order to make the conference a success, felt there was no other way than to take (naval) power already possessed and made that the foundation of arms limitation in order to make the conference a success. With a ratio of 10:6 vis-à-vis Japan the US did not think itself capable of attacking Japan. The United States wished wholeheartedly for the success of the conference and had no other motive than this. For this reason the scrapping of new and old ships approached approximately double that of Japan’s sacrifice. By paying this sacrifice we hope for a complete understanding from Japan. Regarding all this I (Katō) said ‘I understand the gist of the discussion sufficiently and, because the present arms limitation proposal is most favourable, Japan will positively agree to approve it as well. But in the words of President Harding, the complete abolition of war by arms limitation is a dream while we do not possess any organisation in the world at all which can prevent war. Therefore states must possess armaments in which they are confident. Japan has been carrying out research for a number of years from this viewpoint. Based on this research and national expectations the 10:7 ratio demanded by Japan is the absolute minimum ratio for self defence and we do not consider it to be a threat to the United States. Japan wishes to lighten the burden of the people of various countries at the conference, agrees with the main essentials of the conference and with the large scale scrapping of new ships, and promises to carry this out. As to how earnest we are on arms limitation I think I have explained sufficiently. As to the thinking of the Japanese members we find it impossible to believe that the conference is idealising the present world situation in such a way as to ask each country to omit national security perspectives. The United States, which holds strongly to a ratio of 10:6 is dictating to Japan in such a way as to leave us no scope for compromise at all.52 Since both participants relayed the contents of this private conversation in full to their respective Plenipotentiaries and, since there were clearly going to be a number of major problems, something had to be done to try and resolve what, increasingly, appeared like an insurmountable difficulty. Since the only real parties to the dispute were the United States, Great Britain and Japan, Katō Tomosaburō suggested that the technical representatives of these three powers (thus excluding France and Italy) meet to try to resolve the issues. It


was made clear that they were to confine themselves to technical matters, not pass judgement on policy and, after discussion, were to report back to their delegates. In order to avoid confusion, this informal committee will be referred to as the Three Nation Naval Experts Committee’. THE THREE-NATION NAVAL EXPERTS COMMITTEE The committee was made up as follows: Admiral Coontz and Captain Pratt (USA); Admiral Beatty and Rear Admiral Chatfield (GB); Vice Admiral Katō and Captain Uyeda (Japan). The first meeting was held on 21 November. Katō Kanji immediately requested that the Americans provide data on their definition of ‘existing strength’, their calculations and a listing of the ships included in such calculations as well as tonnages and completion percentages of capital ships under construction at that time. In a written reply, the American side stated: ‘Naval strength has been measured by the capital ships under construction and by those dreadnoughts and super-dreadnoughts completed’.53 As for ships under construction, they had decided on keels laid by 12 November 1921. The Americans also added that pre-dreadnoughts were excluded. The date for all calculations was the opening day of the conference. The resulting calculation for completed and uncompleted ships was: Country

Number of ships

Tonnage

USA Japan

33 15

118,650 504,00054

giving a ratio of 10:4.5. However, the Americans had allowed Britain to include the four Hood class cruisers and the Japanese were to incorporate the Takao and the Atago for which keels had not been laid but for which large sums had already been expended. This had improved the relative ratio of the British and Japanese navies.55 Katō Kanji expressed dissatisfaction at the delays over providing this data and also over the nature of the answers. He believed the Americans were simply stating the basis for calculations without explaining them. Katō wished to question the definition and calculation of ‘existing strength’ as defined by the United States. He queried the inclusion of ships building and stated that the exclusion of pre-dreadnoughts contradicted the Hughes statement. He denied that the Mutsu was incomplete, questioned the accuracy of the American figures and finally commented on and queried certain of the figures for Britain’s tonnage.56


EXISTING STRENGTH This is the issue on which the most fundamental divergence of opinion occurred. It should be noted that in these meetings, Katō Kanji made no mention of ‘national need’ as the criterion for naval strength. He was in effect arguing the case for Japan solely on the basis of the principle of ‘existing strength’. This, therefore, represented a victory of sorts for Roosevelt who had endeavoured to get the Japanese to think in terms of ‘existing strength’ as opposed to ‘national need’. No records of the meeting have been found, but Katō, at a later date, explained the Japanese objections to the United States definition of ‘existing strength’ thus: Regarding the term ‘existing strength’, since no common definition exists amongst different countries, it is futile to try and calculate it…. The American reply avoided defining it and only went so far as to indicate their own calculations and this was a matter of regret for us. If we followed the American calculation it was according to ships complete as well as ships under construc-tion. On this matter our understanding was that ‘existing strength’ is the naval power which exists at present and unfinished ships, which do not possess the ability and power for naval strength and are unable to undergo sea combat, cannot be regarded by us as ‘existing strength’.57 Whilst accepting that the United States was making considerable sacrifices in scrapping unfinished ships and, that Japan could and must reciprocate, Katō continued: However, as for the American conviction that such sacrifices can be inserted into ‘existing strength’ calculations this is not compatible at all with the understanding of the Japanese members. Despite certain basic differences, concerning the various items taken up by both countries, the greatest factor affecting the final outcome lies mainly on this point. The unification of calculations by both countries on such a basis is impossible.58 The Americans, equally found the Japanese definition of ‘existing strength’ totally unacceptable. They asserted: The American advisors cannot admit the argument made by the Japanese advisor (Katō Kanji) that they do not recognise as naval strength uncompleted ships. If no naval strength existed in these ships,


there would be no sacrifice of naval strength by scrapping them. This is manifestly, on the face of it, not so. The United States must sacrifice an enormous naval power by scrapping their fifteen ships which are being built.59 The fullest explanation was to come later from Hughes in conversation with Baron Katō after the discussions between the naval experts had ended in failure: The basis for the American proposal, Mr Hughes continued, had been the existing naval strength. The American delegation had felt, however, that in calculating this it was impossible to ignore facts and ships in advanced state of construction were facts which could not be omitted from the calculation. A ship which was 85% completed, for example was a very solid asset in calculating naval strength. It often happened that at a given moment ships in the active fleet were for some reason or another out of action. One ship might have developed some defect in her hull, and another in her engines. A third ship might have her ordnance not mounted. In such circumstances it might even happen that months would elapse before a fully completed ship was ready for active service. A ship that was building, if 90 per cent completed, might even be ready in a shorter time than a ship which had been in service for years. Moreover there could be no comparison between the value of a completed ship, especially at the present time, when the ships under construction would embody all the lessons of the late war…60 It would be wrong to state that the American case had no credible basis. There was a certain logic, often circular, which cannot be easily dismissed. This is especially true given the principle on which Hughes’ strategy was based i.e. a ‘stop now’ formula. Nevertheless, one feels sympathy for both Katō Kanji who was being lectured on technical naval matters by an army Colonel (Roosevelt) and Katō Tomosaburō receiving explanations on technical naval issues from an American lawyer/politician (Hughes). The ‘stop now’ formula, embodied in the Hughes opening speech, whether by accident or design, clearly favoured the American Navy that had a massive building programme in progress. Moreover, funding was proving extremely difficult if not impossible. In terms of negotiating strategy the United States, by keeping its plan secret and by forcing others to react to it, retained control of the situation. In no small part this was due to the skills of Hughes, a determined negotiator and experienced lawyer. Hughes was correct in stating


that ships under construction cannot be compared to those already built. Hughes argument was that a ship in construction was potentially more readily available than one already in commission but needing repairs and this was superficially convincing. However, it fails to consider the fact that a new ship has to be crewed and ‘shaken down’ on exercise before it is ready to join the fleet. The Mutsu, which had already steamed hundreds of miles with a full crew had not entered the fleet.61 This was the basis for the United States refusing to accept it as complete and should have made Hughes more aware of this point. One cannot dismiss the Japanese definition of ‘existing strength’ either but the British, who might perhaps have seen through the American bargaining strategy, essentially sided with the United States. BASIS OF CALCULATIONS The figures produced by the United States and Japanese sides are exceedingly confusing Indeed the old adage that ‘there are lies, damn lies and statistics’ is amply borne out in the debate between the two teams of experts. One reporter, utterly confused by the ‘experts’, came up with the following formula for ‘existing strength’: Divide the number of American submarines by the number of Japanese cruisers. To this result add the cube root of the sum of the coastlines of America, Japan and Great Britain. Multiply by the maximum distance between the coast of America and the coast of Japan. Add the average rate of exchange between pounds and dollars; divide by the sum of the national wealth of Japan, Great Britain and the United States and place the decimal point four figures from the right.62 The Japanese members had other matters than ‘existing strength’ which they wished to address. For example, there was the matter of pre-dreadnoughts. The Americans insisted that pre-dreadnoughts were excluded but Japanese calculations included that class of ship. According to the US advisers: …it is the conviction of the American advisors that no contradictions exist. In no place in the United States original proposal is it stated that pre-dreadnoughts were used in determining existing naval strength. The American advisors feel that naval strength should not be measured by the inclusion of pre-dreadnought tonnage.63 But was this really the case? The Japanese had studied the Hughes proposal most carefully and it did refer to pre-dreadnoughts and it most specifically


did not exclude them! Hughes had proposed that Japan and Britain scrap all their pre-dreadnoughts and these were included in the total tonnage scrapped. In the case of the United States the term ‘dreadnought’ had been omitted but was, presumably, included in the phrase ‘all the older battleships up to, but not including the Delaware and the North Dakota’.64 However, the Americans then offered statistics which included predreadnoughts and arrived at the following: 1. Including pre-dreadnoughts and since the Japanese had apparently included the Fuji and the Shikishima, both over twenty years old the Americans included all their own over twenty years. This added 68,745 to their tonnage. Resulting basis if tonnage based on United States estimate of United States strength and Japanese estimate of Japanese strength was USA 1,143,509 (100) Japan 632,536 (55). 2. Including all Japanese dreadnoughts and excluding their own over twenty years of age gave USA 1,074,764 (100): Japan 632,536 (59) 3. Then the United States calculated according to the Japanese proposal which allotted 1/3 to pre-dreadnoughts, 2/3 to dreadnoughts and 1/2 to ships building. This gave the USA 727,437 (100) and Japan 440,730 (60. 5) Figures in 3 above include the Mutsu as a completed ship.65 The Japanese, in their final dissenting opinion, calculated according to ships built and provided the following figures: 1. pre-dreadnought/dreadnought/super-dreadnought USA (100%) Japan (76%) 2. dreadnought and super-dreadnought USA (100%) Japan (67%) 3. super-dreadnoughts only USA (100%) Japan (86%) Japan also produced calculations for Japan based on American-style calculations and stated on 1. (69%/68%), 2. (67%) and 3. (86%). If ships over twenty years of age are excluded, which was emphasized in the Hughes proposal, then in 1. above 69% becomes 68%.66 In all the above calculations the American figures for Japan never come close to 70%. Nevertheless, the Americans were still including ships under construction in all their figures above. The lowest figure given by the Japanese experts was 67% for Japan. The United States could only allocate


Japan figures above 60% by distorting the figures and including the Mutsu. There were also problems regarding the British figures. Hughes had stated in his proposal: …their navies, with respect to capital ships, within three months after the making of the agreement shall consist of certain ships designated in the proposal and numbering for the United States 18, for Great Britain 22, for Japan 10. The tonnage of these ships will be as follows, of the United States 500,650; of Great Britain, 604,450; of Japan 299,700.67 The Japanese saw this as a ratio of 60:50:30 for Great Britain, United States and Japan respectively and the American documents provide the following explanation: If we (USA) have given a ratio of 60, 50 and 30 by tonnage in the three navies why in replacement change to 50, 50 and 30. Answer —The war conditions caused Great Britain to suspend her building programme. In consequence her ships are relatively older in type than those of the United States and Japan. This fact was considered in allotting her 604, 000 tons for the present, but the standard allotted on replacement was 500,000 tons.68 Plausible as this answer may be it is unsatisfactory on a number of grounds. First, having excluded ships over twenty years, the United States now wished to introduce a sliding scale for vessels under twenty years of age on the British side only. Secondly, Britain, which had already suspended the Hoods (which were therefore not ships under construction) was now being allowed to count these as well as receiving an allowance for not having modern ships. Katō’s team then went on to query the American calculations regarding United States Navy vessels. Since the advisors figures did not agree with those of Hughes’ this is hardly surprising. The Japanese were obviously familiar with the American Navy’s Bureau of Construction and Repairs tonnage figures (the normal basis for official figures). The Americans however, countered that their figures were corrected to an agreed set of figures provided by the Bureau of Construction and Repairs, Steam Engineering and Ordnance. They then added that different methods of estimating tonnage had been carefully gone over as well. Arguments about actual figures could easily have continued ad infinitum. The inconsistencies were clearly more marked on the American than on the Japanese side when it came to calculating Japanese, British and American


tonnage. However, the real issue, which could not be solved by recourse to any mutually agreeable basis for calculations, was the definition of ‘existing strength’. This was the major impediment to any agreement at this level. Indeed reconciliation of American and Japanese definitions and calculations on this was impossible. It should be noted that Katō and his team, were not, at this time, arguing about national needs, nor for that matter on 70% as a strategic concept based on those ‘national needs’. They were arguing about a definition of ‘existing strength’ and, according to their definition of ‘existing strength’ Japan was entitled to very close to 70% and, in the case of superdreadnought alone, 86%. There is no mention in the documents of Katō, at this time, taking a narrow, strategic-military viewpoint based on a theoretical 70%. In the end the issue was taken out of the hands of the advisers on the Three National Naval Experts Committee and the Sub-Committee of Naval Experts and returned to the principal delegates for a political decision. The most significant point to emerge from an examination of these deliberations, is that it calls into question certain assumptions and conclusions regarding Katō Kanji’s own position, especially in the negotiations. It is undoubtedly the case that many commentators on Katō’s later political actions have based their conclusions, in part, on a negative and in some ways inaccurate view of his behaviour at Washington. The above account of events provides a firmer basis for interpretations of his behaviour during the London Treaty Crisis in 1930 and beyond. Certain writers claim that Katō argued consistently and dogmatically for a 70% ratio for Japan based on strategic and military imperatives. This would appear somewhat inaccurate when discussing Katō’s negotiating strategy at Washington. It is clear from the details given above, that he did not argue the strategic case for 70% in discussions with American naval experts. In the technical committees he argued that Japan was entitled to 70% or thereabouts on the basis of ‘existing strength’. He did not pursue the criterion of ‘national need’ in the sub-committees and simply argued that the American definition of ‘existing strength that included ‘ships building’ was not acceptable to the Japanese. In any case ‘national need’ as the basis for ratio decisions was a policy matter and therefore outside the jurisdiction of the naval technical experts. Katō, as far as can be discerned from the documentary evidence, did not attempt to enter this area of policy decision-making and discussed only technical aspects. As to whether the definition of ‘existing strength’ was a political or technical matter that is rather more problematical. No policy decision had been taken explicitly by the delegates on the concept of ‘existing strength’ at this time. The available records indicate that


Katō Kanji argued the Japanese case forcibly and at great length on technical grounds. He consistently maintained that ships under construction were not capable of doing battle at sea and therefore were not ‘existing strength’ though they might be regarded as ‘potential strength’. Katō’s team also questioned many of the American assumptions and there were numerous inconsistencies in the American naval presentations. Therefore, the numerous questions raised by Katō and his colleagues were probably based on genuine confusion rather than obstructionism. The ‘stop now’ formula presented by the Americans and the definition of ‘existing strength’ were the result of political decisions made by Charles Evans Hughes. This was policy made, not by the navy, but by the Secretary of State and the United States Navy’s presentations were often at variance with Hughes’s own figures. This was in part due to the fact that Hughes had based his original presentation on secret discussions and the American Navy’s General Board was not a party to those discussions. There seems little doubt that the American definition of ‘existing strength’, whether by accident or design, by a skilful focus on one’s own strengths or a genuine belief in such a definition, favoured the United States far more than either Japan or Great Britain. Katō and his team battled hard to convey the Japanese viewpoint, but it became increasingly clear that no solution to the Japanese-American deadlock would be forthcoming at the technical advisor level. Roosevelt noted in his diary: The upshot of the matter is that I believe, in the very near future Hughes should fire both barrels and take the matter out of the hands of the naval experts. They still maintain that ships in course of construction should not be considered as part of naval strength. If I can get them to limit themselves to this as their final and only objection, it will be possible for the whole matter to be referred back again to the delegates.69 On 30 November, the Sub-Committee of Naval Experts held their final meeting and the debate was transferred to the delegate level for solution. The ‘Big-Three’, Hughes, Balfour and Katō Tomosaburō then began to negotiate a political compromise. The problem as to what was a ‘policy’ as opposed to a ‘technical’ matter was to continue to plague the Committee on Arms Limitation. The SubCommittee of Naval Experts had been created by the main Committee to consider technical questions arising from policy proposals. This had proved to be ineffective in the case of the technical debate between Japan and


America and had been referred back to the principle delegates. However there still remained the problem of further technical discussions and there were a considerable number of these. It was decided on 15 December that policy and technical matters were so interwoven that a new committee, actually a sub-committee, would have to be formed. This was the (Sub)Committee of Fifteen on Naval Limitation. It was a mixed committee of Delegates and Technical Experts (one Delegate and one Adviser for each of the Five Powers). It too was beset with problems. Hughes later proposed that since most of the ‘technical matters’ could readily be discussed by Delegates they should be discussed by the Committee on Limitation of Armament itself. In order to make this more effective the Delegates were permitted to bring their expert advisers. Katō attended all of these as the principal technical adviser to the Japanese Delegation and attended many other committees. On the subject of policy versus technical matters, as it applied to the Sub-Committee of Naval Experts at least, Admiral Pratt, one of the US naval experts made an illuminating comment. Speaking off the record he told Katō and his colleagues: Fundamentally the Hughes plan was prepared by politicians not by military specialists and therefore it cannot be resolved by expert discussion. It can only be decided by Plenipotentiaries. From the American naval specialist viewpoint we do not consider Japan’s possession of a 70% ratio vis-à-vis the USA as a threat. But regarding Japan’s naval policy the allocation of 70% is considered a danger by the American public. Since it was a political problem there was no method of solution at all open to the naval delegates.70 Many accounts of the conference allocate blame to the experts and especially to the intransigence of Katō Kanji and the Japanese side for the deadlock. Pratt’s comments indicate how aware these narrow’ specialists were of the impossible task they had been given. The final decisions on ratios, fortifications and the retention of the Mutsu, were made in private between the three plenipotentiaries. However Katō Kanji had by then become a somewhat controversial figure. Indeed a certain amount of confusion was a result of Katō Kanji’s name. The press frequently attributed statements to the wrong Katō since Katō Some of the press began to refer to Admiral Katō Tomosaburō as ‘the real Katō’. The British delegation had apparently resolved the problem differently by referring to Katō Kanji as ‘Katō minor’.71


THE TOKUGAWA INCIDENT The so-called Tokugawa Incident occurred during the last days of the SubCommittee of Naval Experts and focused directly on Japan’s position regarding the 70% ratio. On 28 November, Katō Kanji made the following public statement: Owing to her geographical situation and her peculiar national conditions, the imperative need for a navy is recognised by Japan in no less degree than by any other country; but Japan has resolved not to possess armaments in excess of the minimum strength for the bare necessity of ensuring her national security. Japan is unable to accept the ratio of 60% because she considers it impossible to provide for her security and defence with any force less than 70%.She desires to have the proposed ratio modified so that the relative strength of the three navies is 10:10:7.72 Such a public statement by Katō while the Sub-Committee of Naval Experts was still in session was possibly somewhat improper. However, since he made no mention of the negotiations nor the committee, it was perhaps not incorrect by a strict interpretation of the letter as opposed to the spirit of the ‘guidelines’ for subcommittee members. It is also worth noting that this statement refers directly to the principle of ‘national need’ and mentions a required strategic ratio of 70%. One can only speculate as to why Katō should have made such a statement at this particular time. He may simply have wished to state the naval specialists or his own personal opinion or have been so frustrated with the deadlock in committee that he wished to make the issue more public. Alternatively, either as part of Baron Katō’s strategy or indeed his own, he may have been stating the issue publicly to aid the Japanese side in further negotiations. It is of course possible that the statement was intended for a Japanese audience rather than for Westerners. At such a crucial stage in discussions, it seems unlikely that the statement was made without Katō Tomosaburō’s knowledge or permission, unless it was the result of a reporter catching Katō Kanji in an unguarded moment. The Japanese press picked up the Katō Kanji statement but reported it in a rather low key fashion. The Chūgai Shōgyō newspaper reported: Vice Admiral Katō, our assistant delegate, made a minute enquiry regarding the apportionment of naval power among the principal powers as was defined by the American plan and explained the reasonableness of our plans based on six different plans. These plans


were evolved with a view to effecting a rational and fair balance of naval power among the Powers concerned and it is inevitable for Japan to insist on the adoption of one of these plans if she wished to place her national defences on a solid basis.73 The New York Times reported in rather more dramatic terms: The armament conference is approaching its first great decision. It was announced tonight by Admiral Katō, Chief Naval Expert, that Japan sought a 70% ratio. At the same time it was announced that the American delegation stood firmly on Secretary Hughes’ 5:5:3 ratio which means a 60% ratio for Japan. Vice Admiral Katō said that the 70% ratio was the minimum necessary for Japanese security… Tomorrow navy experts hold their first meeting in nearly a week. Indications that actions by the Committee’s experts to sustain the American estimate of naval facts and figures was expected. Whether the Japanese experts will submit minority views in this case has not been disclosed.74 The press in Washington, eager to add substance to the rumours that the technical naval sub-committee were deadlocked, were now presented with a much more sensational development. This was the sudden entrance into the debate of Japan’s Chief Plenipotentiary, Prince Tokugawa Iesato. Katō Kanji may have expected a certain response from the Americans to his ‘demand’ for 70% but he must have been quite taken aback to find himself in the midst of controversy involving the senior member of his own delegation, Prince Tokugawa. On 1 December, the Washington Post carried the following statement: The attitude of Japan’s principal delegate (sic) differs from that voiced by Prince Tokugawa who expressed the positive opinion that the Katō Kanji interview merely represented the personal views of Japan’s naval experts.75 The Japan Advertiser also carried the story, commenting: ‘Katō Kanji’s expression of personal opinion’ Prince Tokugawa said. He would not say whether the decision to press for 70% which the Vice Admiral urged had been reached. He declared that Vice Admiral Katō’s statement was not the result of Japan’s delegation conferences.76


Sadao Asada, wrote of the incident as follows: Violent quarrel between Vice Admiral Kanji Katō and Prince Tokugawa became an open secret. The naval adviser lost his ‘face’ when the Prince told the Press that the Vice Admiral’s views, far from reflecting those of the delegation, were merely opinions held by a technical adviser.77 The press now sought out Katō Tomosaburō for his comments. When asked whether the Japanese delegation had given permission for the Katō Kanji interview the Navy Minister replied ‘I cannot criticise what other people have said’. He was then asked if he, like Prince Tokugawa, felt that Vice Admiral Katō was merely pressing his own personal views. Katō Tomosaburō responded: I would like to be excused from answering because if I say anything it would be interpreted as my own opinion and I am not yet ready to present my own opinion.78 The Washington Post took this rather evasive statement to be more supportive of Katō Kanji than of his distinguished superior, Prince Tokugawa. The Asahi Shinbun newspaper, on 2 December also published an article in support of Katō Kanji: An anonymous admiral is quoted in the Asahi as saying that Prince Tokugawa’s declaration that the 70% ratio represented the personal views of Vice Admiral Katō is very peculiar because Katō’s claim was the result of instruction from his government.79 On 4 December even Japan’s Prime Minister became involved, Premier Takahashi said: If Prince Tokugawa and Katō Kanji disagreed it was because of the difference in their viewpoints. It is clear that Vice Admiral Katō maintained Japan must be allowed 70% from a strategic viewpoint while it is equally clear that Prince Tokugawa based his opinion on a political consideration of the matter. I should explain Prince Tokugawa’s statement as one prompted by the desire to remove any misunderstandings which might have arisen by the insistence of the 70% ratio by Vice Admiral Katō.80


The Osaka Mainichi newspaper criticized the delegation in general: We regret that our delegates have taken awkward and clumsy tactics in presenting our counterproposals for modifications of the Hughes plan.81 Prince Tokugawa’s statement may well have been intended as a rebuke of Katō Kanji or a genuine effort to smooth things over but The Times carried a report saying: Denial was made tonight by Prince Tokugawa, one of Japan’s conference delegates, that he repudiated or disapproved of Vice Admiral Kanji Katō Chief Naval Aide to the Japanese delegation to the effect that Japan required a 70% ratio in capital ship tonnage to safeguard that nation’s security.82 In fact, far from ‘losing face’ to the Prince, Katō had angrily reprimanded his superior for his remarks to the Press, who ‘shrank back when Katō spoke to him’.83 The press in Japan were very aware of the dangers presented by such a schism in the delegation: The American Press is attempting to exploit what is considered Prince Tokugawa’s rebuke of Vice Admiral Katō Kanji on the subject of naval ratios as indicating a divergence of opinion within the Japanese delegation. Washington official circles feel natural divergence of civilian and military views also to be seen in other delegations.84 Roger Dingman has also explained that the Navy Ministry were quick to explain the rifts as a natural conflict between experts and generalists. However, he perceptively suggests that it was possibly connected with negotiating tactics. Dingman pointed out: …news of such differences worried official Tokyo…. But, coupled with Katō Tomosaburō’s silence, Japanese differences raised doubts in Washington. Was Tokyo toying with negotiating tactics or did something larger loom behind Japanese objections?85 The Miyako Shinbun newspaper declared: Prince Tokugawa declared that the claim for a 70% ratio is nothing but the private opinion of our naval expert. On the other hand, Admiral


Baron Katō has proposed the retention of the ratio formally at the conference. We feel queer at the declaration made by Prince Tokugawa. Perhaps this may be a result of the tactics adopted by our delegation that, while our naval advisers stick to the ratio, our delegates do not necessarily remain obdurate with reference thereto.86 ‘Washington’ may well have wondered at the tactics of Tokyo’ but the real decision-makers in Washington, led by Charles Evans Hughes, were less concerned about Tokyo’s intentions. Japanese diplomatic codes had already been broken by American cryptographers and communications between Tokyo and the Japanese delegation were being made available to American decision-makers. What Hughes did not and could not know, was whether Katō Kanji’s statement was part of a tactical plan developed within the Japanese delegation in Washington independently of the Tokyo authorities. The Miyako theory has a certain plausibility but it also raises a further issue. What was Katō Tomosaburō’s position at this time? Was he on the side of the civilians or the naval experts in the delegation. Katō Tomosaburō is normally portrayed as standing against the navy in discussions at Washington and adopting the role of statesman rather than professional naval officer. Itō Masanori, a journalist with excellent naval connections, was in no doubt. As late as 13 December he was writing: Japan is not presenting a united front in the controversy over ratios and Admiral Baron Katō and the naval experts are insisting on 70% while the diplomatic element of the delegation and the majority of the newspapermen here are openly or secretly in opposition to this stand, insisting on the acceptance of the 60% ratio.87 Katō Tomosaburō’s evasiveness when asked by the Press to comment on the Tokugawa Incident’ may, far from being a part of a grand strategy, have been merely a way out of his embarrassment either with Prince Tokugawa or Katō Kanji or even with both. The Times report does however seem to imply some sort of retreat on the part of the Prince and this may hold the key to the problem. Prince Tokugawa has always been regarded, in the Western and Japanese literature, as a mere figurehead at the conference. It was said that ‘as an amateur diplomat, Tokugawa was pathetically ineffectual’.88 Having ‘neither knowledge nor interest in naval limitation’ he probably was not involved in any of the important discussions.89 It is interesting to note that despite their ‘violent quarrel’ Katō was, according to his diary, immediately invited to dinner by the Prince, on the latter’s return to Tokyo.


The above dispute throws considerable light on the problems faced by Japan’s negotiating team at Washington and the problems which a persistent press could generate whilst negotiations were in progress. The related problem which this incident raises is the position of Katō Tomosaburō and, in particular his ‘dispute’ with Katō Kanji. The relationship between the ‘Two Katōs’ has been widely covered in the literature and poses a number of problems for interpreting the relationship between these two men at the conference.90 THE TWO KATŌ’s Existing writing on the Washington Conference contains numerous references to the differences of perspective between Katō Tomosaburō and Katō Kanji. These differences and the reasons underlying them led some contemporary commentators and certain later scholars to speculate on the nature of the ‘rift’ between Plenipotentiary Katō and Vice Admiral Katō Kanji.91 Here I propose to examine the scope and extent of the differences between the two Katōs. In order to do this, one first needs to clarify the elder Katō’s position prior to and during the conference. Since taking over as Navy Minister in 1914 after the ‘Siemens Scandals’, Katō Tomosaburō had worked assiduously at restoring the credibility and budgetary influence of the navy. He had succeeded in his efforts to increase naval budgetary allocations for the expansion of the navy and had successfully piloted the 8–4, 8–6 and 8–8 Fleet plans through the Diet. This alone would have guaranteed him his place amongst the ‘founding fathers’ of the Imperial Japanese Navy. Yet it would be wrong to label him simply as a naval expansionist. As far back as 15 October 1918, he had sent a memorandum to the Prime Minister Hara Kei, outlining fiscal requirements for the navy which would enable completion of the 8–8 Fleet but at the same time proposing the immediate suspension of building on two cruisers and the postponement of two scheduled for the following year.92 A shrewd politician and a realist Katō was aware of the increasingly difficult financial position that Japan was finding herself in after the Great War. One can see, in his activities, his metamorphosis from an advocate of gradual expansionist to a cautious advocate of arms reduction and limitation. Since arms limitation as well as certain aspects of disarmament can be seen as weapons in power politics, where a freeze or slowdown may suit a particular country at one time, the shift in Katō’s attitude can be seen as relatively slight. Katō was fully aware that Japan’s real competitor in a naval arms race was the United States. He was only too aware that Japan needed funds to keep pace with


United States construction programmes and, ironically, the only post-war power capable of providing Japan with loans was the United States. Until 1919 Hara Kei and Katō Tomosaburō appeared to believe that continued naval expansion, whilst expensive, was not impossible. But, by early 1919 Katō was paring 100 million yen from the naval budget, ‘mothballing’ one fleet and part of another, and withdrawing from bases in Asia and in the Pacific (or proposing to in the latter case). This caused considerable concern and an outcry, not only from navy officers but from the army as well. Inter-service dissension was especially marked over proposed naval withdrawals from Siberia.93 On 28 March 1920, in an interview with the Associated Press Katō was reported as follows: The Minister also emphasized that Japan’s project of having eight battleships and eight cruisers not eight years old was not the irreducible minimum.94 Katō went on to describe the historical development and background to the 8– 8 Fleet concept and stated that Japan was already a party to the League of Nation’s efforts on arms reduction and would be happy to participate in an international armament reduction conference. He then said: I don’t believe our relatively inferior navy should lead in reduction or curtailment of our established plan. But, if a dependable international agreement comes into being whereby all naval powers agree to restrict their naval forces I would be only too glad to do this to a reasonable formula can be found. Therefore in certain cases I don’t insist on completion of the so-called eight-eight program.95 These comments reflect the findings of the naval research committees as much as they do Katō’s own particular predilections. The naval research teams had stated that, in certain circumstances it would be possible, and even advantageous, to agree to a curtailment of the 8–8 Fleet. Katō Tomosaburō, however, said nothing publicly about the 70% ratio although he did state it was necessary to have such a ratio in the Advisory Council on Foreign Affairs.96 The final instructions to the delegates did not explicitly state that 70% was the absolute minimum but the case for this ratio however was clearly implicit in the phrasing of certain instructions. Moreover, Katō had explicitly instructed Katō Kanji to take the research committee findings as


his guide and these stated that 70% of the American Fleet was the absolute minimum ratio. Katō Tomosaburō’s position prior to arriving at Washington might best be described as conditional approval of curtailment of the 8–8 Fleet under the right circumstances, but no public declaration on the 70% ratio. During his passage to the United States aboard the Kashima Maru, Plenipotentiary Katō stated that Japan wished to maintain a fleet sufficient to cope with any force another power could send to far Eastern waters. He also indicated that he was not prepared to advocate the dismantling of American fortifications in the Pacific. However he did warn against either America or Great Britain enlarging their bases in the Pacific saying that Japan would have no other choice but to respond appropriately to such a move. Then, rather prophetically, Plenipotentiary Katō said: Japan believes that the strength of the bases in the Pacific is a question directly linked with the problem of naval curtailment. Therefore, it is probable that efforts will be made to settle the two matters simultaneously.97 Immediately prior to the ‘Hughes Statement’ at the opening of the conference, Plenipotentiary Katō had found it necessary to issue a denial regarding a story carried in the Tribune that Japan was continuing with her 8– 8 Fleet.98 On 15 November, at the second plenary session, Katō responded to the Hughes proposal in the following way: Gladly accepting, therefore, the proposal in principle, Japan is ready to proceed with determination to a sweeping reduction in her naval armament. It will be universally admitted that a nation must be provided with such armaments as are essential to its security. This requirement must be fully weighed in the examination of the plan. With this requirement in view, a few modifications will be proposed with regard to the tonnage basis for the replacement of the various classes of vessels.99 Katō Tomosaburō was criticized for this statement. It appeared to some as reneging on his previous ‘acceptance’ of the Hughes proposal. But that ‘acceptance’ as stated previously, was a careful and qualified reply. Roosevelt and other more perceptive observers were aware of this but the Press appeared to misinterpret it.


What is interesting is that Katō Tomosaburō referred to ‘national needs’ (a criterion specifically excluded from consideration in the Hughes proposal), that the tonnage allocation be raised in Japan’s favour and that any alterations be applied to replacement tonnage. Since the latter was not to take place for ten years then Katō assumed that the new ratio of 5:5:3 would be applied ten years hence, not immediately after the Conference. On 17 November, Katō Tomosaburō apparently told the Japanese press, in Japanese, that 70% was absolutely essential in the eyes of the Japanese naval experts, but a few hours later he told the Western press, rather more cautiously, that Japan ought to have ‘slightly greater’ than 60%.100 On 19 November, Katō met Balfour and Hughes and informed them that Japan was agreeable to the scrapping of old ships and ceasing construction of almost all new ships but that the ratio allocated to Japan required modifications. He then explained why Japan had to have 70% and stated that such a ratio had not been hastily drawn up in Washington but was based on lengthy studies by the Japanese Navy. Moreover he added the 70% ratio was in accordance with the government’s statements in the Diet and also represented the wishes of the Japanese people. Plenipotentiary Katō had of course, previously instructed Katō Kanji to press for 70% in the Sub-Committee of Naval Experts. As a result of the naval experts failing to reach agreement the issue was now passed directly to the Plenipotentiary level and a meeting was arranged between Hughes, Balfour and Katō Tomosaburō. Plenipotentiary Katō contacted the Japanese authorities in Tokyo on 23 November and proposed the following options and requested instructions: 1. To stick to our proposal (10:7). 2. To make the ratio at about 10 to around 6.5 and include the Mutsu. 3. To make the ratio 10:6 and include the Mutsu. 4. To agree to the American proposal as it is.101 He had prefaced the telegram with a request that, because of difficulties in communications etc, he might not have sufficient time to contact Tokyo repeatedly for further instructions. Therefore he wished to be allowed to proceed as follows: We would make our utmost efforts to carry through the under mentioned plan 1, but would seek settlement, if obliged to by plans 2 or 3, depending on the situation and agree on plan 4 only as a last recourse.102


Katō made it very clear in this communication that, if the Conference failed, Japan would: …with the United States on the question of naval armament limitation and lead the conference to failure.103…bear the sole responsibility if we should clash The government in Tokyo, having received this plea to avert a clash, consulted the Advisory Council on Foreign Relations and sent a reply to the effect that such a clash was indeed to be avoided and: If there is no alternative you will strive to settle at the ratio of 10 to 6.5 (Your plan 2). If, despite your excellency’s efforts, further concessions become inevitable, in view of the overall situation and general interests, you will strive to have ample room where we can make clear that we have agreed to the ratio of 10:6 only on a firm understanding of reducing Pacific defences or at least leaving them as they are now. Thus weakening the concentrated activities in the Pacific and maintaining the present equilibrium. We would like you to do your utmost not to agree to the United States proposal as it stands (your plan 4).104 Despite the fact that Plenipotentiary Katō argued fiercely and stubbornly for the retention of the Mutsu, which he claimed was a completed ship, it was not mentioned in this communication. Katō made no mention of the fortifications issue in his ‘proposal’ to the Japanese government but the authorities in Tokyo were very clear on the need for an agreement in this area. The initiative for giving up the 70% ratio is to be found in the government reply since it made no mention of plan 1 (10:7). Armed with these guidelines from the Government, Katō now began a series of discussions first with Balfour alone and then with Hughes and Balfour together. On 2 December, Katō’s explanation to Hughes was recorded as follows: Baron Katō stated he definitely associated himself in the views of his technical experts. The ratio of 10 to 7, which the Japanese had supported had as a matter of fact been worked out some time ago in Tokyo. Moreover these views were supported by the Japanese government and Parliament. On the present occasion however he had no desire to argue the question on technical issues, as such a controversy was likely to lead to no result. He would only say that he


himself believed that Japan was entitled to a ratio of 70% in capital ships.105 Balfour, unfortunately for Japan, had supported 10:6 in this discussion thus undermining the Japanese position. The Japanese government, on 10 December, despatched instructions on their opinions as to the form a defence agreement and Four Power Entente agreement should take and pressed for the retention of the Mutsu at the expense of another ship, the Settsu. Baron Katō then met Hughes and Balfour again on 12 December and explained the Japanese position with regard to 70%, Pacific fortifications and the Mutsu. On the 70% ratio he said: The Japanese government considered the 10 to 7 ratio necessary to Japan’s security. He himself considered the calculations of the Japanese experts were perfectly reasonable and he really regretted that they had been unable to obtain the agreement of their American and British colleagues on it…He was ready to consent to the ratio of 10:10:6 on condition that he obtained a definite understanding in regard to the status quo on fortifications and naval bases in the Pacific.106 Baron Katō then argued most forcefully for the retention of the Mutsu and steadfastly refused to accept Hughes’ repeated assertions that she was an uncompleted ship. Katō claimed she was fully crewed and had steamed hundreds of miles. The Mutsu had not, in fact, officially joined the fleet but this was simply an administrative matter. December was traditionally the month for commencement of new programmes, promotions and ships joining the fleet. Katō did concede that the retention of the Mutsu would necessitate an alteration in the ratio to 5:5:3 1 for America, Great Britain and Japan respectively. Responding to a comment by Balfour on the 10:10:6 (5:5:3) ratio, Katō replied that ‘this ratio he understood was to apply at the end of ten years’. He went on to say that the present ratio was actually 6:5:3 for Great Britain, America and Japan. Katō therefore wished to know why the Americans had decided to change the British ratio to five when her existing strength was six. Hughes interjected at this point that British ships were older and America had made allowances for this. Katō continued to refuse to concede over the Mutsu even though it now became apparent that retaining that ship would almost certainly compel America and Great Britain to recommence building cruisers. This was deemed necessary to preserve the ratio of 5:5:3. The American side continued to claim that the Mutsu was an unfinished ship despite considerable evidence to the contrary. Hughes then


decided that if Japan retained the Mutsu he would discard the ‘stop now’ formula. Thus, the American side were so determined to preserve the ratio that they were prepared to discard what was for many the most important element of all, namely the ‘stop now’ proposal. Moreover, America now literally f forced an unwilling Britain to recommence a building programme it could ill afford. In the end, Plenipotentiary Katō was able to obtain an agreement on preservation of the status quo on Pacific fortifications and retention of the Mutsu provided he accepted a 5:5:3 ratio in capital ships and some further building by America and Great Britain. Asada Sadao in particular has devoted considerable attention to the relationship between the two Katōs at Washington. He has implied that there was a major split between these two men. Asada’s case relies heavily on the assumptions that Katō Kanji opposed his superior on the 70% ratio issue and that the elder Katō based his understanding of arms limitation on political, rather than narrow professional and strategic grounds. Finally, Asada implies that Katō Tomosaburō, almost single-handedly, succeeded in obtaining an agreement favourable to Japan despite the ‘machinations’ of subordinates such as Katō Kanji.107 The available evidence, however, does not sustain these contentions. Great care is needed in reading sources such as biographical studies of Katō Tomosaburō and of Shidehara Kijūrō as well as autobiographical writings by the latter.108 These biographies and memoirs tend to exaggerate and rationalise the roles and acts of these men. Moreover, there is also a tendency for contemporaries such as Shidehara, as well as later writers, to interpret Katō Kanji’s behaviour at Washington in the light of his later political actions during the London Naval Treaty Crisis of 1930. It has already been demonstrated that Katō Kanji did believe that Japan was entitled to at least a 70% ratio as a sovereign state entitled to define her own ‘national need’. But he did not pursue this case in committees as Asada Sadao has repeatedly asserted. Katō Kanji argued in committee that Japan was entitled to a 70% ratio vis-à-vis the United States based on Japanese interpretations of ‘existing strength’. Moreover, he pursued 70% in the subcommittees on Plenipotentiary Katō’s instructions, not in opposition to his superior’s wishes. Katō Tomosaburō made it clear on a number of occasions to both Balfour and Hughes that he fully supported Katō Kanji’s advocacy of 70%. During the conference Plenipotentiary Katō did appear willing to sacrifice some of the main elements in the Japanese Navy’s pre-conference strategy. He was prepared to forego completion of the 8–8 Fleet, the 70% ratio and


America as the potential enemy. Whether he made such decisions based on his personal views or on the basis of a wider perspective of national defence is difficult to assess. However, one should also bear in mind that naval views in general, as reflected in the pre-conference naval research were rather more moderate than has hitherto been supposed and therefore Katō Tomosaburō may have simply reflected such views. Plenipotentiary Katō was a politically ambitious man and this may well have made him pliant in negotiations with the political authorities in Tokyo. Nevertheless, many of his statements do provide evidence of a statesmanlike approach to the impasse in Washington. These statements may have been the post-facto rationalisations of someone taking responsibility (and credit) but with no real power of ultimate decision. The telegrams to and from Tokyo indicate that the home authorities occupied a major and continuing role in the decisions. Plenipotentiary Katō also continually reminded Balfour and Hughes in negotiations that he needed to consult his government although this may have also been a delaying tactic in negotiations. Katō Kanji was well aware that his superior had to adopt a wider viewpoint than the naval experts even though he was Navy Minister and said so before, during and after the conference with no apparent malice. The younger man, however, one is continually told, held out for 70% based on a ‘strategic imperative’. In other words he viewed national security in very narrow, military/strategic terms. The existing evidence shows that in fact he based his arguments at Washington concerning the 70% ratio on the basis of Japanese calculations of ‘existing strength’. Katō’s advocacy of 70% was also based on his consistent view of the arms limitation process. Katō saw arms limitation as a form of power politics. He believed that Japan, as a sovereign power, was entitled to equality ‘in principle’. For Katō Kanji the 70% ratio was a symbol of both Japan’s defensive posture, and a major concession. As to his narrow view of national security there again is no real evidence for this at this time. On the contrary he publicly stated his approval at the Naval War College on his return Katō said: Chief Plenipotentiary Katō Tomosaburō believed that we ought to possess complete facilities for total mobilisation for national defence. At the same time as planning for the consolidation of armament he wished to advance the actual power of the state. Furthermore he wished to improve international relations, prevent Japan from being isolated and without allies, and minimise the chances of war. These are things which he (Baron Katō) truly believed were necessary to complete national defence. From this viewpoint he remained at all times patient and


responsible in arguing with Balfour and Hughes and in providing guidance to us Japanese in Washington. Moreover he was able to continue extremely difficult negotiations with the government in Tokyo. In the final analysis he was able to prevent the conference from breaking up and we were able to achieve our objectives. However the hardships and suffering he underwent were truly awful.109 Such a detailed and sympathetic opinion seems somewhat at odds with the predominant belief in a major rift between the two men. Most comments on Katō Kanji’s views on arms limitation are consistent in that they portray Katō as a strong opponent of the naval compromise reached at Washington. It has been said that: His attitude to the treaty was hostile and he was to draw up a detailed memorandum attacking the whole idea of naval limitation as ‘irrational’ and showing that any formula of limitation based on naval ratios would not suit Japan’s interests.110 Katō was and remained hostile to the London Naval Treaty of 1930 and he increasingly placed the blame for Japan’s naval unpreparedness on the Washington Treaty agreement on capital ships in 1921–22. However, he cannot be said to have been hostile in the immediate aftermath of the Washington Conference. He was, it is true, dissatisfied with many aspects of the treaty, especially the ratios but he also publicly praised the conference as a great achievement. Moreover, Katō was not an opponent of arms limitation and stated this publicly and privately on numerous occasions. He did change his mind about the benefits of the Washington Conference, especially after 1930, but he maintained a consistent stand on arms limitation. Katō approved of arms limitation and arms reduction provided that it was carried out in a fair manner. He did object strongly, however, to the allocation of a ratio which was inferior and possibly permanent. He believed that a sovereign nation was inherently entitled to parity and that all nations ought to decide their own needs. Thus he felt Japan should have, in principle at least, a ratio of 10:10 with other Powers. He did not say that Japan must actually possess 10:10 since he knew this to be economically impossible and strategically unnecessary for minimum defence. The detailed memorandum from which the quote above was taken was not ‘attacking the whole idea of naval limitation as irrational’. It stated that ‘the whole basis of the Washington Conference agreements was irrational’.111 Auxiliary vessels and land armaments were not included. The ‘existing


strength’ propounded by the Americans was clearly not ‘rational’ to Katō and his technical staff. Katō did not accept that the need to solve economic problems was a rational basis for convening an international conference on naval limitation. Katō of course believed that arms limitation was merely treating the symptom (arms racing) of international tension rather than the cause (international misunderstandings). It is accurate to say Katō was and remained only a lukewarm supporter of arms limitation and reduction. What he opposed vehemently and consistently was the ratio system proposed by the United States. He saw the imposition of ‘inferior ratios’ as a means of permanently relegating another power to an inferior position on the basis of some transient superiority. Navies in any case were important for prestige as well as conflict and an inferior ratio effectively meant, for Katō and many others, second rank status. Katō did concede that the great naval powers, America and Great Britain, could set upper limits to naval power. This one power standard would be acceptable to Japan and she would promise not to exceed it. There is no doubt that during the conference Katō Kanji was, at various times, extremely upset. He was incensed with the attitude of American negotiators, civilian and military and totally frustrated by their almost total failure to understand the Japanese position or accept carefully researched proposals from the Japanese naval experts. Katō Kanji’s determined stance on 70% was a source of discomfort to Plenipotentiary Katō and Katō Kanji’s indignation at times reached such heights that a rumour went round and even reached Japan that he had committed suicide. It is hardly surprising that rumours circulated in Washington and Tokyo that the younger Katō was contemplating suicide, possibly this rumour was fuelled by Roosevelt referring to the possibility (in his diary entry stated earlier).112 Katō’s indignation was, no doubt, sometimes directed at his superior Baron Katō or, at the very least, voiced in the latter’s presence. However, it was primarily directed at the Americans and to some extent the British especially Balfour. The elder Katō, already ill from his tremendous exertions at this complex and long drawn out conference, told Plenipotentiary Shidehara: He (Katō Kanji) is also my subordinate in the navy and does not have any special ambitions. But he is enthusiastic for the sake of the navy. So last night, although I was not well I heard him out without saying anything in reply. For that reason I had a very hard time.113 Interestingly, here he refers to Katō Kanji not having ‘any special ambitions’ which was probably code for ‘not interested in political advancement. This


statement could also be interpreted either as Katō Kanji arguing with his senior or merely that the elder man had permitted his junior to vent his indignation over the Americans in his presence. Baron Katō’s task in Washington was an immense one. He had to deal with his diplomatic staff, his naval staff, the press, the civilian and naval authorities in Tokyo as well as the delegates from other countries. One oft-cited statement of Katō Tomosaburō rebuking the younger Katō is as follows: ‘Now that you have become vice-admiral what about keeping those below you under control’.114 This can be interpreted either as indicating Katō Kanji and his subordinates were causing problems or, Katō Kanji’s subordinates such as Suetsugu Nobumasa were at fault Undoubtedly there must have been occasions when Baron Katō felt it necessary to rebuke his junior Katō Kanji and the latter’s intense frustration and the ‘unjust’ nature of the compromises clearly affected his behaviour. It is probable that Katō Kanji’s reputation for being impetuous had its origins at Washington and possibly reflected inexperience of the give and take of international politics at this level. Katō Kanji had amongst his staff the likes of Suetsugu Nobumasa. Suetsugu, by his various intrigues in naval and national politics, was to continue to embarrass Katō Kanji on numerous later occasions and especially over the London Conference.115 Existing descriptions of both Katōs at Washington are therefore open to question on a number of points. However, the question does remain as to whether there really was a split between the elder Katō, the statesman and diplomat and his younger colleague Katō the narrow, professional sailor and expert? If so then what form did it take? Itō Masanori was one who did not accept that there was a split. He wrote that the two Katōs were on the same side with the other technical experts. Opposing this group were the diplomats and the majority of the Japanese press corps in Washington. The position adopted by the Japanese press brings into question the authenticity of their reports. There is ample evidence that the majority of the Japanese press were strongly in support of a compromise solution almost from the beginning and tried repeatedly to pressure Katō Tomosaburō. Katō Kanji’s official biographers, led by Admiral Abo Kiyokazu, who knew both Katōs intimately, may have identified the real basis for stories of a rift between the two men. They conceded that: Katō (Kanji) did have great difficulty in reaching mutual understandings with Katō Tomosaburō. This is a truth which cannot be


disguised but this was simply in official matters. Privately there was not a trace of estrangement.116 They offered the following observations, regarding the selection of the two men: Katō Kanji, the naval specialist, was an outstanding man of high intelligence and decisive action whilst Katō Tomosaburō, on the other hand was very careful and considered every factor even down to the smallest detail. Because of this it was seen, by people at the time that there would be differences between the two.117 Katō Kanji was later described as one who ‘would not wait for the plums to ripen and fall but would knock them down with a stick”.118 One can see here that personality, rather than grand or narrow views of national security were probably at the root of any clashes or possibly temporary fallouts which were ‘business not personal’ between the two men. Katō Kanji, often referred to as impetuous, was a typical command type officer, used to making instant decisions. Katō Tomosaburō, on the other hand, was an administrator/politician who always considered every angle. In a sense, this reflects also the two organisations in which the two men reached the top, the Naval General Staff for Katō Kanji and the Navy Ministry (and premiership) for Plenipotentiary Katō. Katō Kanji is often referred to as simple and straightforward whereas what is really meant is not ‘simple’ in the general sense but the opposite of devious-that is frank, straightforward and possibly even blunt. As the naval attaché in Tokyo reported to his British superiors ‘his enemies call him narrow-minded and a radical’ whilst others referred to him as ‘worldly, highly intelligent and knowledgeable’.119 He was certainly somewhat impetuous at Washington and, since he was obviously highly competent in English, his instant comments to pressmen were to render his skill in language, in the highly sensitive environment of an international conference, rather more a burden than an advantage. One other factor almost completely neglected in assessments of the two men is that they were merely reflecting the particular ‘official’ position they found themselves in at the Conference. They were therefore simply carrying there responsibilities out to the best of their ability. Katō Tomosaburō was in Washington as a cabinet minister and the needs of the nation took priority over the needs of one particular service, irrespective of his own personal inclinations. Katō Kanji was the Chief Naval aide and was present in an advisory capacity only. Therefore his primary mission was to consider the needs of the Japanese Navy and indeed he had been so instructed by Katō Tomosaburō himself, immediately prior to leaving Tokyo.


In the end one is left with speculation and hypothesis. So too were the many pressmen both Japanese and Western at Washington. However, documentary evidence suggests the possibility that much speculation, particularly on Katō Kanji’s split with the Japanese plenipotentiaries, was in the nature of informed guesswork based on a minimum of facts. Finally, one can also speculate, as Roger Dingman and sections of the press in Tokyo did at the time, whether the differences between the two Katōs were the result of a strategy by the Japanese delegation or alternatively represented the strategy of the Western press seeking to make capital over ‘alleged differences’ and ‘splits’ within the Japanese group. For the remainder of the conference, Katō Kanji dutifully attended other committees but the real work had been completed earlier. The conference lasted from early November to February 1922 and, in all, produced seven treaties and twelve resolutions. The most important for our purposes here were the ‘Five Power’ and ‘Four Power’ treaties. The ‘Five Power Treaty’ (USA, Great Britain, Japan, France and Italy) laid down capital ship reductions, stipulated precise capital ship and aircraft carrier tonnages and placed specific reductions on future building programmes for capital ships. The ‘Four Power Treaty’ (USA, Great Britain, Japan and France) was an attempt to replace the Anglo-Japanese Alliance with a quadruple entente in the Pacific in order to maintain the status quo. Also important was the ‘Nine Power Treaty’ (USA, Great Britain, Japan, France, Italy, Holland, Portugal, Belgium and China) which focused primarily on Chinese affairs. These latter treaties were integral to the naval limitation question since they bridged political and arms limitation issues. Katō arrived home earlier than the main group and, whilst he praised the conference for its achievements he was also somewhat critical, especially of its failure to reach agreements on auxiliary vessels.120 He said later that the French and the Italians had been badly treated over the capital ship issue and this again seems consistent with his belief in parity in principle for all sovereign states. He sympathized particularly with the naval representatives of France and Italy and their ‘humiliating exclusion’ from the important negotiations. He felt bitter towards the British for siding with Hughes and, in a lecture given shortly after his return home he said Balfour ‘betrayed’ Japan.121 He also criticized Britain and the United States for not being more supportive over the abolition of gas warfare. What annoyed him most, and was to continue to rankle was the inferior ratio. His determination to prevent this ratio from being applied to auxiliary vessels was eventually to consume all his energies and gravely affect his future career.


Notes 1 KKD, p. 733. 2 Ian Nish, ‘Japan and Naval Aspects of the Washington Conference’, in William G Beasley (ed.) Modern Japan. Aspects of History, Literature and Society, (Berkeley, 1975), p. 72. 3 ibid., p. 72. 4 David Evans and Mark Peattie Kaigun: Strategy, Tactics and Technology in the Imperial Japanese Navy 1887–1941 Annapolis 1997 p. 194 5 Roger Dingman, Power in the Pacific: The Origins of Naval Limitation 1918– 1921, (Chicago. 1976). D. 191. 6 I was also shown a silver ashtray presented by Sir Archibald Lucius Douglas and Major B Green making Katō an Honorary member of the Knights Commander of St Michael and St George dated July 911. 7 National Archives Record Group 45 C-10-L QY 14746-B, Box 487. 8 ibid., p. 2. 9 Admiralty 116 3447 X/N 02288 ‘Summary of Conversation between N A Tokyo and Vice-Admiral H Katō’, (September 1921), p. 1. 10 ibid., p. 1. 11 ibid., p. 4. 12 See Segawa Yoshinobu’s three part series ‘Washington Gunshuku Kaigi (1921– 1922) to Nihon Rikugun’, Bōei Ronshu, Vol. 4, No. 1 (April 1965), pp. 45–67; Vol. 4, No. 2, (July 1965), pp. 163187; Vol. 4, No. 3, (October 1965), pp. 53–67. The press also carried reports asking why the navy specialist, Katō Kanji had been appointed since he was senior to major general Tanaka Kazushige of the Army. 13 Katō Kanji, ‘Gunbi Seigen no Taisei to Sono Teido’, Taiyo, Vol. 27, (October 1921), pp. 18–22. 14 ibid., p. 20. 15 ibid., p. 22. 16 Itō Kinjiro, Ikiteiru Taishō Katō Kanji (Tokyo, 1942), p. 32. For an impression of Katō during the trip by a civilian reporter see Komatsu Midori, Kafu Kaigu no Shinsō (Tokyo, 1922), pp. 54ff. For Katō Kanji’s own account see Katō Kanji, ‘Kafu Kaigi ni tsukaishite’, in Tokyo Asahi Shinbun Seibu-hen, Sono Koro o Kataru, (Tokyo, 1929, pp. 378–384. 17 See especially the Washington Post and New York Times, (October, 23–30, 1921). 18 For details of the US Navy and the conference see especially, Thomas Buckley, The United States and the Washington Conference 1921–22, (Knoxville, 1971); William Braisted, The United States Navy in the Pacific 1919–1922, (Austin, 1971). For the US Army, Thomas L Powers, The United States Army and the Washington Conference, Ph.D., (University of Georgia, 1978). 19 Kaigun Gunreibu, ‘Kaigun Gunbi Seigen ni kan suru Katō Chūjō Kōen Hikki’, pp. 6–8. This 48 page document is not dated but was delivered at the Japanese Naval War College sometime in May or June 1922.1 am indebted to Katō Kanji’s son Katō Kanichi for providing a copy of this document. ‘Hereafter referred to as ‘Katō Chūjō Kōen Hikki’). 20 New York Times, October 13, 1921. 21 Washington Post, October 19, 1921.


22 New York Times, October 28, referring to an Associated Press report from Tokyo dated October 23, 1921, on an Asahi Shinbun article. 23 For the other aspects of the conference see Morinosuke Kajima, The Diplomacy of Japan 1894–1922, Vol. 3, Tokyo 1980 Part Three, The Washington Conference, pp. 419–671 and Asada Sadao Japan and America 1915–1925, Ph.D., (Yale, 1963) and Asada Sadao Japan’s ‘Special Interests’ and the Washington Conference, 1921– 1922’, American Historical Review, (October 1961), pp. 62–70.See also the comprehensive set of essays in Eric Goldstein John Maurer (eds) The Washington Conference 1921–22: Naval Rivalry, East Asian Stability and the Road to Pearl Harbor Ilford 1994 24 Richard Dean Burns and Donald Urquidi, Disaramament in Perspective: An Analysis of Selected arms Control and Disarmament Agreements Between the World Wars, 1919–1939, Vol 3 Limitation of Sea Power, (Los Angeles, 1968), p. 14. 25 ibid., pp. 14–15. 26 Gabrielle d’Annunzio, International Naval Disarmament Conferences at Washington and Genoa November 1921-April 1922 (New York, 1950) p. 57. 27 Roosevelt Diaries, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress 14/11/21. 28 op. cit., ‘Katō Chūjō Kōen Hikki’, p. 8. 29 op. cit., Roosevelt Diaries, 14/11/21. 30 op. cit., ‘Katō Chūjō Kōen Hikki’, p. 9. 31 op. cit., ‘Katō Chūjō Kōen Hikki’, p. 9. 32 op. cit., ‘Katō Chūjō Kōen Hikki’, p. 9. 33 op. cit., Kajima, p. 475. 34 ibid., p. 470–71. 35 op. cit., Roosevelt Diaries, 15/12/21. 36 ‘Memorandum of a Conversation held in Mr Hughes Room at the State Department, Washington, on Monday December 12, 1921’, p. 9, in Charles Evans Hughes Papers Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 37 Boston Evening Transcript (comp.) Review of the Conference on Limitation of Armaments in connection with the Pacific and Far Eastern Questions pts 1–4 (July 10 1921-February 14 1922) (Boston, 1922), p. 15. 38 Conference on the Limitation of Armament: November 12 1941-February 6, 1922, (Washington DC, 1922), pp. 82–84. 39 op. cit., Roosevelt Diaries, 15/11/1921. 40 ibid., 16/11/1921. 41 Asada Sadao, Japan and the United States, 1915–1925, Ph.D., (Yale University), p. The diary, and one might add Roosevelt’s behaviour over Hawaii years earlier, lead one to believe he was as much if not more of a’fighter’ than the samurai Katō Kanji. Roosevelt also refers to Katō Tomosaburō as a samurai which Asada conveniently omits to mention. 42 op. cit., Roosevelt Diaries. 43 Japan Advertiser, 16/11/21. 44 op. cit., Roosevelt Diaries, 16/11/21. 45 ibid. and op. cit., Braisted, pp. 603–604, who implies that Admiral Beatty and the British Delegation were a major contributor to the deadlock. 46 Adm 116.3446 HN 0288 Dated November 30th 1921 p. 1. op. cit. Buckley, p. 82, also states Admiral Katō Kanji was ‘under orders from Baron Katō’.


47 48 49 50 51 52 53

54 55 56 57 58 59

60 61

62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

op. cit., Roosevelt Diaries, 30/11/21. ibid., 16/11/21. Washington Post, 16/11/21. op. cit., Klooz, pp. 131–132. op. cit., Roosevelt Diaries, 17/11/21. op. cit., ‘Katō Chūjō Kōen Hikki’, pp. 11–12. Memorandum (undated) on ‘Questions asked by Japanese advisors at informal meeting, November 21, with answers’ C E Hughes Papers Box 169 9 (a) Naval Treaty Data furnished by the Navy Department ibid. p. 2. ibid. op. cit., Kajima, pp. 471–472, but see also Adm 116 3446 HN 0288 Dated November 30th 1921 for a British account of the Japanese assertions. op. cit., ‘Katō Chūjō Kōen Hikki’, op. cit., pp. 14–15. ibid., p. 15. Memorandum (undated) on ‘reply to the questions and the Japanese opinions concerning the replies received from the United States’, C E Hughes Papers Box 169 9 (a) Naval Treaty Data furnished by the Navy Department. Memorandum of a conversation held in the Secretary of State’s room, State department, Washington, on Friday December 2, 1921, p. 7. C E Hughes papers. Plenipotentiary Katō’s case for retention of the Mutsu is to be found in ibid., and another memorandum of conversations between Balfour Hughes and Katō dated December 12 1921, also to be found in the same folder amongst the Hughes papers. Mark Sullivan, The Great Adventure at Washington 1922, p. 113. op. cit., Memorandum (undated ‘reply to questions…’ Hughes papers pp. 2–3. op. cit., Kajima, p. 467. Undated memorandum, no title but obviously Navy Department data: Box 169 Hughes papers included in folder with memoranda cited in notes 67 and 72 Undated memorandum, no title but obviously Navy Department data: Box 169 Hughes papers included in folder with memoranda cited in notes 67 and 72 Hughes opening address cited in op. cit., Kajima, pp. 468469 op. cit. Undated memorandum p. 6. see note 65. Roosevelt Diaries, 27/11/21. op. cit., ‘Katō Chūjō Kōen Hikki’, pp. 16–17. op. cit., Nish, p. 77. There was clearly considerable confusion in the American press and Plenipotentiary Katō was referred to occasionally as ‘the real Katō’l Ichihashi Yamato, The Washington Conference and After. A Historical Survey, (Stanford, 1928) p. 47. Chūgai Shōgyō, 29/11/21. New York Times, 29/11/21. Washington Post, 1 /12/21. Japan Advertiser, 2112/21. op. cit., Asada, (1963), p. 237. Washington Post, 1/12/21. Asahi Shinbun, 2/12/21. Japan Advertiser, 4/12/21. Osaka Mainichi, 3/12/21.


82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91

92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108

109 110 111 112 113 114 115

116 117

The Times, 2/12/21. op. cit., KKD, P. 745 Japan Advertiser., 3/12/21. op. cit., Dingman. p. 201. Miyako Shinbun, 3/12/21. Japan Advertiser, 13/12/21. op. cit., Asada, p. 208. ibid. ibid. Asada Sadao ‘Japanese Admirals and the Politics of Naval Arms Limitation: Katō Tomosaburō vs Katō Kanji’, in Gerald Jordan (ed.), Naval Warfare in the 20th Century, (London, 1977) and Ikeda Kiyoshi, Futari no Katō’ in his Nihon no Kaigun, Vol. 2, (Tokyo, 1967) pp. 52–60. op. cit., Dingman, Chapter 11. ibid., pp. 185–190, for a description of inter-service problems over the conference. op. cit., Hughes Papers Box 169 Naval Treaty 3 Misc. ibid. The best English language discussion of Katō Tomosaburō’s struggles with Tokyo authorities is op. cit., Dingman. Washington Post, 25/10/21. Hughes Papers Box 169 Naval Treaty 3 Misc. op. cit., Kajima, pp. 469–470. ibid., pp. 470–471. op. cit., Klooz Manuscript, pp. 132–133. op. cit., Kajima, p. 472. ibid., p. 472. ibid., p. 473. ibid., p. 473. op. cit., Memorandum December 2, 1921, Hughes Papers pp. 3 op. cit., Memorandum December 12, 1921, Hughes Papers op. cit., pp. 1–2. op. cit., Asada, (1977). Arai Tatsuo, Katō Tomosaburō. (Tokyo, 1959); Kurihara Hirota, Gensui Katō Tomosaburō Den, (Tokyo, 1928); Yamanashi Katsunoshin, Katō Tomosaburō Gensui o Shinobu, (Tokyo, 1967). Yamanashi had his career damaged in the political struggle (and its aftermath) during the London Treaty Crisis of 1930 when he and Katō Kanji were on opposite sides. Shidehara Kijūrō, Shidehara Kijūrō GaikōJūnen, (Tokyo, 1951), is a rather selective set of reminiscences op. cit., ‘Katō Chūjō Kōen Hikki’, p. 17. op. cit., Nish, p. 79. op. cit., KKD, p. 758. op. cit., Asada, (1963), p. 230 refers to a rumour that circulated in Tokyo that Katō Kanji had actually committed suicide in Washington. op. cit., Shidehara, p. 65. op. cit., Ikeda p. 54. For Suetsugu’s career see Hata Ikuhiko, ‘Suetsugu Nobumasa: Kantai-ha no Yū’, Keizai _rai, (June 1979) pp. 220–230; Itō Takashi, ‘Kantai-ha Sōsui-Suetsugu’, Rekishi to Jimbutsu, (August 1976), pp. 74–82. op. cit., KKD, p. 745. op. cit., KKD, pp. 743–744.


118 op. cit., KKD, P. 1008 119 Komatsu Midori, Washington Kaigi no Shinsō (Tokyo, 1922), pp. 54ff and documents of British Naval Attaché Tokyo cited above. 120 Japan Chronicle, 3/3/1922. 121 op. cit., Katō Chūjō Kōen Hikki’, p. 41 for Katō Kanji’s assessment of Balfour

CHAPTER 5 From Washington to London: The Years 1922–29

As the Washington Conference drew to a close Katō Kanji had begun to feel distinctly unwell. He had complained of severe head pains and was eventually permitted to return home in advance of the main party. In fact, he merely preceded them by some four days and after all the real work had been completed. Not surprisingly the tremendous political and linguistic pressures had taken their toll on the health of some members of the Japanese delegation. Katō Tomosaburō stated, on his return ‘I felt I was going to die in Washington’ and their were reports of him vomiting blood.1 It has been suggested that Katō Kanji may have reasons other than ill health for returning early, namely distaste for the Washington settlement.2 It is true that in Japan, there is a tendency, perhaps more marked than elsewhere, for people to have ‘political’ or ‘diplomatic’ maladies. At Washington, Plenipotentiary Shidehara became very ill with gastro-enteritis. It happened at a crucial point in the negotiations over the ratio issue and one irreverent reporter diagnosed the illness as ‘congestion of the cables’!3 In Katō Kanji’s case, one cannot conclusively refute the suggestion that he was avoiding a situation (the signing of the treaties) he found unpleasant or unacceptable. However certain evidence tends to cast doubt on this hypothesis. First, at this time, Katō was not as opposed to the Treaties as has hitherto been supposed or at least was not as opposed at this time before the full implications hit naval planners. Second, on his arrival home Katō was in a position to speak first to the home press and publicly praised the conference’s achievements. Third, he was present for all the key decisions in Washington and sailed for home when only ceremonial matters remained. Finally, Katō’s diary clearly showed that he was in considerable pain and confined to bed for most of the Pacific crossing to Japan. Katō Kanji arrived at Yokohama on 2 March 1922, and one newspaper reported: Vice-Admiral Katō, although suffering intensely from a carbuncle on his neck and expressing a desire to go immediately to the hospital

MILITARY INTERVENTION IN PRE-WAR JAPANESE POLITICS 151

cordially greeted naval officers and newspaper men who met him on the ship.4 Katō’s words were reported in most newspapers. He praised the work of the American delegation and naval advisers and suggested that the major share of the credit for achieving an agreement should go to Charles Evans Hughes. He felt that the conference had been successful but stressed that success would depend on the responsibility and honesty displayed by the signatory nations. He went on to say that: The adoption of the ratio, the status quo for the Pacific Islands and the Four Power Pact meant the placing of Japan among the leaders of twentieth-century civilization.5 Katō also praised Katō Tomosaburō’s achievements highly but regretted the failure to achieve an agreement on auxiliary craft. He felt that the decisions on submarines, whilst not going far enough, aided Japan. He also commented on other limitation decisions singling out the banning of poison gas and crediting America for changing from opposition to support on that issue. If Katō was negative in these reports, it was British intransigence, over poison gas, submarines and auxiliaries rather than American behaviour to which he directed attention. Katō was quoted as saying: In my opinion the Washington Conference was one of the greatest events in the history of the world if judged solely by results.6 and concluded: I must not forget to say that I regard as one of the great results of the conference what I shall call the ‘creation and appearance of a new international state of mind’ which certainly has supplanted the old attitude of distrust and misapprehension.7 It is of course impossible to know what Katō’s innermost thoughts were at this time. He probably harboured deep resentment at the inferior ratio’ but had probably calmed down during the long ocean crossing. He may not have been in a powerful enough position to risk speaking out against the conference and creating a domestic and international scandal. One might add that it was unlikely that anyone would be permitted to return home, in advance of the main party and the leaders of the delegation and say anything to the press which had not been previously vetted or indeed prepared by them

152 FROM WASHINGTON TO LONDON: THE YEARS 1922–29

in advance. Nevertheless, at least in the immediate aftermath of the Washington Conference, Katō Kanji could not be said to be strongly opposed to the agreements reached even if one is sceptical of his statements to the press. Katō soon entered a private clinic where his illness was confirmed as being caused by a large carbuncle on the neck. After some twenty days in hospital he then convalesced and returned to duty at the Naval War College on 25 April. No sooner had he returned to duty that he was promoted to Vice-Chief of the Naval General Staff. His promotion casts some doubt on the assumption that he had fallen into disfavour with Katō Tomosaburō. The latter is often described as all-powerful in the Navy.8 One must assume that Katō Tomosaburō, who had, a few years earlier, removed Admiral Satō Tetsutarō from this position for incurring his wrath, was either not as powerful as had been hitherto supposed, or as seems more likely, was not as angry with Katō as the American press and certain scholars would have us believe. Katō’s superior as Chief of the Naval General Staff was Admiral Yamashita Gentarō. Katō had a long standing affection and respect for his chief and had Yamashita’s total confidence. Katō’s energy, organising ability and other skills, were soon put to good use as the Naval General Staff carried out a number of important reforms. First, Katō took over the reform of various navigation tables, signal books and telegram codes. Regarding the latter, his recent experience in the First World War and his visits to the West, especially as head of the technical mission to Germany at the end of the war, were to prove invaluable. These internal reforms were soon accomplished and Katō received much of the credit. Next, Katō began to look at possible reforms of the relationship between the Naval General Staff and the Navy Ministry, but only a brief treatment can be given here.9 Moves in favour of a system of civilian service ministers were accelerated by the First World War and these developments were helped by the Washington Conference, the support of the Navy Minister Katō Tomosaburō for such a change and thre assumption pro-tem of the Navy Minister portfolio during the conference by the premier.10 Thus, the Naval General Staff were anxious to strengthen their position in the event that a system of civilian service ministers was implemented. In the end, Katō shelved the reform proposals, possibly because he knew they would not be approved by the elder Katō. The latter was totally opposed to strengthening the Naval General Staff and favoured the reverse. The third area of reforms, which had begun just before Katō was appointed, was the Second Revision of the Imperial National Defence Plan.11


The decisions at Washington had naturally necessitated such a revision and the Army, having witnessed the temporary disappearance of its primary potential enemy, due to the Russian Revolution, also had good reasons for carrying out revisions. The original plan and the subsequent revision in 1918 had been carried out under army leadership. The key figure in both these earlier developments was Tanaka Giichi. However, in the Second Revision negotiations, the navy played a greater and much more positive role.12 Planning for the revisions had begun in March and Katō became involved in May. Despite the results of the Washington Conference, and Katō Tomosaburō’s avowed support for the principle of ‘no war with America’, the revised plan designated America as the primary hypothetical enemy for the navy (and the army too). At the same time, the Requisite Armaments plan was promulgated indicating a massive build-up in auxiliary vessels to compensate for the Washington ratio. In addition, the individual tonnage and firepower of cruisers, destroyers and submarines were increased but within treaty limits. Finally, a new outline of strategy was decided. What is perhaps worthy of note here is that Katō Tomosaburō was excluded from this planning and only ‘consulted’ after decisions had been made. One possibility is that his assumption of a political post (the premiership) weakened his hold on the navy rather than strengthened it. Thus, James Crowley may be correct in saying: …after 1922 there appeared in Japan an approach to foreign and security policies which placed primary emphasis on an adherence to the Washington treaties and co-operation with the Anglo American Powers.13 But this did not apply to the military leaders responsible for revising the National Defence Plan. Therefore, whilst the government may have been adhering to both the letter and spirit of the Washington Treaties, the military adhered only to the letter. As a result of the second revision of the INDP the navy commenced a major building programme in auxiliary craft. Defence planners believed a conflict with America ‘was inevitable’ leading Asada Sadao to state that this all bore the ‘unmistakable imprint of the thinking of Katō Kanji’.14 The new revised plan stated: The United States, as a result of a policy of economic invasion of China, menaces the position of our Empire and threatens to exceed the limits of our endurance.long-standing problems, rooted in economic problems and racial prejudice (discrimination against Japanese


immigrants) are extremely difficult to solve… Such being the Asian policy of the United States a clash with our Empire will become inevitable sooner or later.15 It is certainly true that at this time, Katō Kanji so utterly dominated the Naval General Staff that one officer wrote that The Naval General Staff at this time might well be described as Katō Kanji’s one man show’.16 Certainly, in combination with his subordinate Suetsugu Nobumasa, Katō’s forceful nature was probably in large part responsible for the greater role played by the navy in the revision of the National Defence Plan, but it is by no means clear that he was the principal architect of the navy revisions in the INDP. First because he was not involved at the initial stage and second because it is possible that he was reflecting the views of this organisation and not imposing his views on his subordinates throughout the Naval General Staff. The revisions of the INDP are not mentioned at all in the biography and therefore his biographers did not credit these to Katō. A crucial element in the revised INDP was the navy’s auxiliary building programme. The vast expenditures now required for naval construction programmes were being subjected to considerable domestic criticism. In a New Year Speech message for 1923, Katō was obviously defending the building programme.17 He stressed the need for military prowess for preservation of his country and added: ‘History furnishes many examples of warfare carried on for preservation of a race, a religion or an idea’. He commented that ‘the present condition of the world fails to convince him that permanent peace may be obtained outside of Paradise’. Katō referring to President Harding’s speech at the Washington Conference stated: ‘ending warfare is quite remote’. Again, here we see Katō’s ‘realist’ approach in response to what he considered the misguided ‘idealist’ approach of many people on arms limitation. Katō went on as follows: More than a year has passed since the Conference but the situation today is considered a temporary phenomenon, a calm before the storm, as history reveals and the world is striving to revert itself to self preservation, wide awake from the terrors of carnage. The world has not become Utopia. Imperialism is clearly visible behind the avowed principle of international co-operation. In Europe, Poland and other young countries show a remarkable inclination towards Imperialism. England, France, Italy and other Major Powers are concentrating their energies on protection of their own interests as may be seen from the results of many recent conferences. Reparations conferences have


ended in virtual deadlock, and there is no hope entertained in Europe of an economic revival, rendering political stability. Warlike preparations in Poland, maintenance of a mighty army by France, hostilities between the Angora and Greek governments and consequently annulment of the Sevres Treaty are evidence of the political instability. European arenas have become chaotic as was once the case in the Balkans and there is no guarantee of peace so far. The newspaper report then carried a sub-heading ‘Arms Limitation Useless’ but this would appear to have been journalistic license. What Katō actually said was: Unless the apples of discord are done away with, arms limitation will become useless. Human feuds continue incessantly and war never comes after the completion of armaments. Constant warfare among mankind testifies to these facts and men want armaments to defeat their enemies and to obtain objectives needed for their existence. Under such circumstances, it is very dangerous for us to expect peace at once unless perfect methods for solving, to the minimum, international strife are found. It is quite evident that very often war comes through a struggle for economic rights and fair critics agree that the World War was born of commercial rivalry between England and Germany. Economic strife is not based on the ambitions of statesmen and warriors… One could postulate that the tone of this ‘message’ reflected the institutional ‘realist’ approach of the Naval General Staff or that it was deliberately designed to present a negative world-view simply to support increased naval budgets for auxiliary craft construction. However, even if true, it is also consistent with Katō Kanji’s own thinking. The only omission, probably deliberate, was the absence of a mention of the United States in events at that time. It was clearly different in tone from other New Year Speeches but, given his position and given the rising criticism against defence expenditures, it was a fitting speech. It did not, however, as the paper implies, say that arms limitation was ‘useless’. It reflected his consistent view that other factors than armaments and the ambitions of military men, namely economic clashes of interest, might yet render arms limitation useless. Katō was promoted to Commander-in-Chief Second Fleet on 1 June 1923. This undoubtedly pleased him since it allowed him to return once more to sea duty and also because it was his first Imperial appointment which meant he


was personally attested by the Emperor. In theory, he now had direct access to the Emperor under the prerogative of the Supreme Command. Boarding his flagship the battleship Kongō, Katō was immediately involved in exercises off Korea with the First Fleet. On the afternoon of 1 September the Fleets received their first news of the Great Kantō Earthquake which had commenced at two minutes before noon that day. After conferring with his superior, Admiral Takeshita Commander-in-Chief First and Combined Fleet, it was decided that ships should immediately be despatched to Tokyo. Katō appears to have been the prime mover in this decision. No sooner had they began making preparations than word was received from the authorities in Tokyo ordering the cancellation of the exercises and the return of all ships to Yokohama and Kure as soon as possible. Katō’s Flagship entered Sasebo on 4 June and began embarking relief stores and coal. Katō’s diary tells us little of his personal feelings, the first entry stating only that Admiral Count Yamamoto, now forming a cabinet, narrowly missed death whilst at the Suikōsha club in Tokyo and ‘The Prince Regent is safe’.18 One can theref fore only imagine his shock on seeing the damage which had been caused. Leonard Humphreys, who described the army’s role in disaster relief at this time, in detail, stated, ‘when the holocaust ended, the Japanese nation realised that they had experienced one of the most fearful disasters in human history’ and this seems to have been no exaggeration.19 Tokyo and Yokohama were especially hard hit, first by the earthquake itself, which registered 7.6 on the (Richter) scale, then by the fires and floods that followed. In Yokohama, thousands were crushed by collapsing buildings, particularly in areas of reclaimed land. Thousands more perished in the fires and firestorms which raged for three days. Telephones and telephone lines were cut, the transport system was thrown into chaos and the police and fire agencies were swamped by the enormity of the problem. The army and navy were effectively the only real centres of stability at this time. The government, stunned by the death of the Prime Minister days earlier, were merely caretakers until Count Yamamoto could form a cabinet. The threat of a continued breakdown in civil order and of starvation and disease in the wake of the disaster made military aid to the community the only real hope. In this crisis situation Katō took over control of all ships in the Tokyo area. The most urgent problem was the requisitioning of transport and tugboats for relief work. It was estimated that at least 100 ships and 25 tugs was the minimum requirement. Eventually, Katō acquired 60 and 15 respectively. The whole operation was complex and highly dangerous and collisions


occurred. For example the launch from the battle-cruiser Hiei sank after colliding with a tugboat and 46 men were drowned. On 9 September, Katō was able to go ashore for the first time. He went immediately to see the Navy Minister and then was able to travel to his own home. It must have been an extremely difficult few days for naval crews, many of whom had families billeted in the area but were unable to find out what had happened to their kin and homes. Katō’s diary read as follows: I spent about two hours in the afternoon to inspect my home. The upstairs was so badly damaged that there will be a problem if it rains heavily. I feel the house is dangerous to live in but I can’t do anything about that. Told the family to shelter from the weather there for the time being and returned to my ship. Family is OK although there was danger at one time, but both boys are safe.20 The damage caused by the earthquake was truly awesome, in human and economic terms. One source lists the figures as follows: Dead Injured Unaccounted for Houses completely demolished Houses half demolished Houses lost in fires Houses washed away

99,331 103,733 43,467 128,266 26,233 47,128 86821

For the navy the costs were high, many ships under construction were badly damaged, for example the Akagi, which was in the process of being converted from a cruiser to an aircraft carrier, had to be scrapped. Many navy shore facilities were destroyed or badly damaged in Tokyo and Yokosuka. The expenses incurred in the rescue work were also vast. The result was that the navy was faced with a choice of postponement or even reductions in its building plans given the parlous state of government finance after the disaster. It was finally decided that the Auxiliary Replenishment programme was to be extended by one year and the completion of new aircraft units postponed for three years. The army, too, incurred tremendous outlays which greatly hampered plans for modernization of equipment. Yet in one sense, the army gained considerably because of this tragic event. After World War One, the army was held in very low esteem by the populace and regarded as feudal


reactionaries or tax robbers (Zeikin Dorobō), although the former appellation applying principally to the German-influenced army. The decline in the prestige of the military, however, was remedied somewhat by the earthquake. It is of course, well known to military planners that aid to the community as a very effective public relations weapon and events in 1923 clearly substantiate that. Uniformed men in the disaster areas were being welcomed when only weeks before they had been looked down upon. Katō occupied a very visible position during the earthquake operations and it provided the opportunity to display his considerable qualities of leadership and decision. He then spent a month with fleet units at Shinagawa Bay on guard duties. On 8 November, he gave a lecture at Etajima. He told the assembled students there that he could not find the words to describe the earthquake. He did say he was glad that the Academy was not in Tokyo, not he added, because of the disaster but because Tokyo is too influenced by Western materialism’.22 Later, Katō sailed for a tour of the coasts of Korea and Manchuria, memorable only for a meeting with Chang Tso Lin and taking the latter’s son for a trip to Manchuria. On his return, Katō attended the sinking of the Satsuma which was carried out in accordance with the Washington agreement to scrap certain vessels. For Katō and other naval men, this use of serviceable ships with great traditions as target practice, must have touched a raw nerve and it was clearly an emotional event. Indeed, it is said that Katō, on seeing the Satsuma and Aki being sunk, declared tearfully, ‘From this day on we are at war with the United States’.23 This emotional response from a sailor at the sinking of good ships and blaming the Americans who created that situation through the Washington agreements is perhaps understandable in the circumstances. On 1 December 1924, Katō was appointed Commodore of Yokosuka Navy Yard. This was yet another key position in the naval hierarchy. Katō had already served as Chief of Staff at Yokosuka in 1918. His principal duties now involved improvements in the dockyard, promotion of morale, the spreading of military discipline and the improvement of educational training. These were all areas in which he was well qualified. Apparently, he also had certain duties in local politics, no doubt liaison with the local government authorities vis-à-vis civil defence. This is a subject the biographers omitted for ‘reasons of national security’. His first major task was to officiate at a burial ceremony for the crew of a ship lost in Fukui Bay (the Kantō in Tsuruga Bay). Then, later he attended a rather more pleasant ceremony to install the Mikasa (Japan’s HMS Victory) as a form of Naval Museum.24 Katō had served as Chief Gunner under Tōgō on the Mikasa during the Russo-Japanese War.


In February 1927, Katō was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the First Fleet and Commander-in-Chief of the Combined Fleet. This was a great honour for Katō, not least because this highest command position afloat was now to be occupied by a second Fukui man. Katō’s predecessor Okada Keisuke, later Navy Minister and Prime Minister, had held the post before Katō and both men came from the same village. Katō, unlike Okada, went to Fukui during his period of office and received a tumultuous welcome. At the time of his appointment, Katō was still only a Vice Admiral and this was most unusual. In April 1927 he was promoted to full Admiral. Katō’s principal duty was, as the title Commander-in-Chief, Combined Fleet suggests, to keep the Japanese fleets up to combat readiness and he spent a considerable amount of time on exercises in the seas surrounding Japan. Unfortunately, documentary records and logs of the Commanders-in-Chief were apparently destroyed at the end of the Pacific War.25 During this tour of duty the major naval powers met at Geneva for a second naval arms limitation conference. Katō Kanji was not directly involved in this conference, although a most interesting document indicating his feelings at the time the conference was convened, has come to light.26 Before commenting on Katō’s connection with this conference, however, the Geneva Conference itself will be discussed in some detail THE GENEVA NAVAL CONFERENCE OF 1927 The Geneva Naval Conference of 1927 or Coolidge Naval Disarmament Conference, has been described as ‘one of the most dramatically unsuccessful international gatherings of the twentieth century’.27 This failure, primarily the result of an American-British deadlock on cruiser ratios, has been somewhat neglected by historians and international relations specialists and this is particularly true of treatments of Japan’s role in the conference28 The second naval disarmament discussions at Geneva, throw considerable light on naval developments since Washington, as well as giving certain indications or likely future developments at London in 1930 An analysis of the conference will therefore be supplemented by Katō’s thoughts on it, such as they were. The latter will help to show the development of his own thinking on the subject of naval arms limitation. As is well-known, the Washington Conference achieved a ratio of 5:5:3:1. 5:1.5 for America, Britain, Japan, France and Italy respectively on capital ships. A decision on a similar ratio for auxiliary vessels was attempted at Washington but, in fact, the Washington Treaty only defined an auxiliary; any vessel up to 10,000 tons with up to 8’ guns.Whilst the United States had


been keen to apply the ratio to all ships at Washington, this had met with considerable opposition from the other nations, especially France and Britain. France’s Chief Delegate at Washington, Admiral DeBon, told Katō Tomosaburō, ‘if the ratio for capital ships is extended to auxiliaries, the French representative will not be able to return home’. The French placed great faith in auxiliaries, especially its own massive submarine programme and simply would not accept an overall ratio of 1.5 vis-à-vis Britain and the United States in these areas. Katō replied that if the French were to propose scrapping the auxiliary ratio ‘we will not oppose it’.29 However, Plenipotentiary Katō had seemingly given approval to a future extension of the Washington Treaty agreement to cover auxiliaries. The British supported the French proposal in part, because they could not permit limitations on their auxiliaries if the French were not to be similarly limited. In addition, whilst the British were reluctantly prepared to accept parity in capital ships with the United States, they were certainly not prepared to accept overall naval parity at this time. The French were credited with initiating the proposal to scrap discussion of auxiliaries at Washington and were much criticised for their negative approach. However, with the benefit of hindsight, it may be claimed that France’s efforts to exclude auxiliaries made an agreement on capital ships possible.30 This was because all nations could continue to develop national defence plans by turning to auxiliaries. Saitō Shichogorō (First Section of the Naval General Staff) commented after the conference ‘won’t a race in auxiliaries begin in the near future?’31 This is precisely what happened. In effect the re-channelling of the naval race from capital ships to auxiliaries, casts considerable doubt on assumptions that the Washington Conference was a disarmament conference and that it stopped the naval arms race. It is perhaps best to describe the inter-war conferences reflecting power politics as much as, if not more than, the quest for disarmament. In the immediate aftermath of Washington, amidst the euphoria that it undoubtedly engendered, the three Great Powers, America, Britain and Japan, announced major auxiliary vessel building programmes. Moreover, a new type of vessel, a heavy cruiser, built right up to the conference limits, was established. This was the 10,000 ton 8’ gun cruiser often called the ‘Washington Treaty Cruiser’.32 It must be said that Japan bears a certain responsibility for initiating construction of this type of vessel. Whilst the ‘treaty cruisers’ may have adhered to the letter of the Washington Treaty, these new cruisers did not seem to be in accord with its spirit. Britain, and in particular America, followed suit by building these vessels. The great emphasis on Treaty Cruisers’ by the United States and Japan is principally attributed to two developments. First, there was a perceived need for


increased cruising distances due to the limits on fortifications in the Pacific. Second, existing cruisers (7,500 ton 6’ gun) could be offset in time of war by arming merchantmen. This in effect transf formed the latter into a f form of light cruiser. America, in both cases, was greatly concerned with its Pacific strategy relating to distance and unfortified bases as well as its inferiority in merchant fleet size compared to either Japan or Great Britain and therefore had most to fear. However, despite the fact that the apparent threat was greatest for the Americans, they had the greatest trouble in getting budgetary allocations through the Executive and Congress. Indeed many assumed after Washington, that the United States ought to stop building altogether. Britain immediately set about planning its two permitted battleships (35, 000 tons) converting two battle cruisers to aircraft carriers and planning new Treaty Cruisers’ causing Stephen Roskill to state: All in all the first effect of the limitation treaty on Britain was to produce greater activity in naval building than at any time since the armistice.33 The second result in Britain and elsewhere, was the commencement of a massive research and development effort in weight-saving, in order to build the most powerful ships possible within the permitted tonnage limitations.34 The naval plans of the Americans and the British in the period 1922–1927 are relatively well documented but what was happening in Japan? The Second Revision of Japan’s Imperial National Defence Plan, incorporating an auxiliary vessel replenishment programme and the creation of the new Treaty Cruiser’ were all implemented immediately after the signing and ratification of the Washington Treaties. The Japanese navy had anticipated a second conference and further League of Nations disarmament efforts in naval armaments and established a committee to investigate future arms limitation policy.35 In 1925 it produced a report based on ‘the lessons of the Washington Conference’. Its findings may be summarized as follows: 1. Japan’s ‘failure’ at Washington was due to inadequate preparations rendering Japan’s role a passive one. Japan must establish a firm, concrete and clear-cut policy well in advance and carry out preliminary negotiations so as to obtain clear recognition of Japan’s basic contentions prior to the conference. 2. Japan needed to get public opinion in Japan firmly on its side, and 3. That ‘the utmost caution must be taken never again to be confronted by joint Anglo-American coercion’.36


The Committee was absolutely opposed to the extension of 10:10:6 ratio to auxiliaries which they expected the Americans to put forward and also was at pains to point out, that the next conference be regarded as ‘separate’ not an extension of the Washington Treaty agreements. Finally, the committee favoured an 80% ratio if the Anglo-Japanese powers refused to accept a Japanese plea for ‘parity’.37 In December 1925 the League of Nations established an Armament Reduction Commission. Its remit was armament in general although proposals were put forward and adopted for separate committees for land, sea and air. The United States and Germany remained outside the League of Nations but were permitted to attend. All efforts failed and this was probably because the various countries involved had vastly differing requirements on security. Interestingly it has been suggested that there is evidence that Shidehara Kijūrō, the famous liberal and advocate of peace, told the Japanese delegation to this League of Nations committee that he was flatly opposed to Japan being allocated less than 70% in auxiliary vessels and indeed he was secretly opposed to any restrictions for Japan in auxiliaries at all!38 In 1927 President Coolidge finally gave in to domestic pressures for a conference on naval auxiliary vessels. Initially, the League of Nations Commission was suggested as the venue for this international gathering, but eventually it was decided to hold a separate conference for the five principal signatories at Washington; the United States, Great Britain, Japan, France and Italy. France flatly rejected Coolidge’s invitation, preferring to link the issues of land, air and sea armaments under the auspices of the League of Nations. This is not surprising, in that France’s geographic position rendered her more vulnerable than America, Britain, and Japan to air and especially land attack. Moreover, France preferred her status as leader of a ‘European block’ in the League of Nations, to that of ‘minor power’ status in a five-power naval conference. Italy, whose armament policies were inextricably linked with French military planning, naturally followed suit. France eventually sent an ‘informant’ and Italy an ‘observer’ to attend. France’s refusal placed Great Britain in a dilemma, especially over defence policy in Europe but she consented to participate. Japan also agreed to participate but the Japanese Navy had strong reservations over accepting an invitation, particularly at this point in time. Navy leaders reported:


We are striving amidst great difficulties to complete auxiliary ships under construction. Our consolidation plan enabling us to possess 70% vis-à-vis the United States and Britain (in auxiliaries) only received approval from the Diet at the end of 1926.39 1928 was the year when Japan would achieve and possibly exceed 70% of the United States and Great Britain in this category of ship. Thus a 1927 conference was, to say the least, inconvenient for naval planners. The Minseitō Cabinet under Wakatsuki Reijirō, was still wrestling with the financial and social consequences of the Kantō earthquake as well as the beginnings of a financial depression. They decided that they had too much to lose by rejecting the invitation and therefore cabled acceptance. The next problem was the selection of delegates. The Japanese government possibly had in mind another naval officer of the calibre of Katō Tomosaburō and selected Admiral Saitō Makoto, Governor General of Korea and former Navy Minister, to lead the delegation. Saitō had refused the same position at Washington and still felt that events in China made it inadvisable for him to leave Korea. He was finally persuaded and a diplomat, Ishii Kikujirō, Japan’s representative at the League of Nations Commission on Disarmament, was also appointed as Delegate. Rear-Admiral Kobayashi Seizō, son-in-law of Katō Tomosaburō and Chief of the Navy Ministry General Affairs Bureau, was appointed Chief Technical Adviser to the delegation. The United States delegation was headed by Hugh Gibson, Ambassador to Belgium, a man with little knowledge of naval affairs but America’s representative on the League Commission on Disarmament United States Secretary of State Kellogg had originally preferred Charles Evans Hughes who had been so successful at the Washington Conference. He had refused and urged Kellogg not to send anyone of high rank since Hughes believed the conference was not a good idea and any failure must not be allowed to rebound on the present American administration. Kellogg then offered to attend himself but the President refused permission and eventually the relatively young, inexperienced and ‘lightweight’ Gibson was chosen. His codelegate (originally ‘adviser’) was Admiral Hilary Jones who was primarily responsible for the fact that American naval views dominated the United States delegation. Britain sent W.C. Bridgeman, First Lord of the Admiralty and Viscount Robert Cecil (a cabinet minister). Although of a much higher calibre than the American delegates they did not have the ultimate power of decision, and as a consequence of being overruled during the conference, Cecil was to resign from the cabinet.


The appointment of Admiral Jones caused great concern to Japanese naval officers. Jones was well known for his hard line public statements on ratios vis-à-vis Japan. During the Washington Conference he was reported as saying that the American public and American politicians would never tolerate allowing Japan a 70% ratio. Also he indicated that on the China Question, American naval power ought to be 166% of Japan (a Japanese ratio of 60% or less) ‘in order to bring Japan to its knees over China’.40 This caused much resentment in Japan at the time since, as Viscount Ishii wrote later: ‘whether correct or not, the Japanese people resent the ‘inferior ratio’ allocated to Japan at Washington and considered it a slight against them’.41 Plenipotentiary Ishii carried out discussions with Gibson on the inferior ratio’ at the beginning of the conference. Thus a clash between the United States and Japan over ratios seemed inevitable. This increased the already tense relations between the two countries. For the Japanese in particular, the American Immigration Bill of 1924 and America’s massive Pacific naval manoeuvres in 1925 engendered great suspicion and fuelled anti-American feelings. No detailed negotiations were carried out between the countries prior to the conference, although Admiral Jones (USA) had hoped for an AngloAmerican accord as a lever to force Tokyo to maintain the 5:5:3 ratio in auxiliaries. Admiral Beatty (UK) felt that Britain should not allow the United States to know its position prior to the conference. His intention was to use surprise as a tactic, in much the same way as Secretary Hughes had done for the United States at Washington.42 The Americans came to the conference with two clear aims, parity with Britain in auxiliaries and a 5:3 ratio vis-à-vis Japan in auxiliaries. However, parity with Britain at a high overall level would mean that America would be required to increase building in order to maintain a 5:3 ratio with Japan. Therefore they needed to achieve parity at the lowest possible overall tonnage. The United States not only wished for a 5:5:3 ratio and a maximum overall tonnage but also that the ratio be extended to each class of ships, cruisers, destroyers and submarines. It proposed the following levels:

GB & USA Japan

Cruisers (tons)

Destroyers (tons)

Subs (tons)

250–300,000 150–180,000

20–25,000 12–15,000

60–90,000 36–54,00043

But Japan’s Imperial National Defence Plan of 1923 had laid down the following targets:


40 144 80

10,000 ton cruisers destroyers submarines

400,00 tons 201,600 tons 133,640 tons 44

Britain proposed a reduction in the size of capital ships, reduction in the size of guns and an extension in the age for replacement of capital ships. It wished to apply the ratio of 5:5:4 to treaty cruisers (10,000 tons) but on 7,500 ton cruisers it put forward the ‘doctrine of requirements’ stating that the Empire would have as many as it needed.45 Japan not only wished to include ships built but those building or planned. Japan’s Plenipotentiaries had not been specifically instructed to hold out for 70% but the Chief Naval Adviser had been so instructed. Nevertheless, the delegation was specifically instructed that the completion of the auxiliary building programme in 1928 was to be regarded as sacrosanct and this would have, in effect, guaranteed 70%. Japan stated ‘the auxiliary vessels, scheduled to be completed by the end of 1928, constitute the minimum essential strength’.46 Japan’s basic assertion was:

Surface Auxiliaries Submarines

US-UK

JAPAN

450,000 103,000

315,000 72.00047

The British proposal, apart from falling far short of America’s proposals, amounted to about 600,000 tons, almost double the American upper limit and included 25–10,000 ton and 55–7,500 ton cruisers. Saitō and Ishii initially avoided specifying a need for 70% for Japan in auxiliaries. Regarding the American proposals, Japan was most unhappy with the breakdown of ship categories and of course the application of an overall 5:5:3 ratio in auxiliaries. They did not much care for the British proposals either, especially limitations on size and armour. However the Japanese unease at other countries proposals paled into insignificance compared to the diplomatic battle between America and Great Britain. The conflict was clearly based on political grounds rather than on technical ones. The issue for America in this conference centred on ratios. It is true that most writings on the subject focus on the debate over types of cruisers but the ratio issue always lay behind any debate. The United States Navy’s quest for a navy ‘second to none’ is best summed up by their Navy General Board’s statement regarding the conference: ‘Equality with Britain is the sole basis on which a just treaty limitation can be imposed’.48 America in stipulating 5:5:3 in each category of vessel clearly sought parity with


Great Britain in strict mathematical terms. The British on the other hand, had been prepared at Washington to concede parity in capital ships, but content in the knowledge that her strength in auxiliary craft still enabled them to retain overall world naval supremacy. Great Britain was prepared to concede parity in heavy cruisers, provided that this was at a very low level, but she still wished to retain superior numbers in other vessels including light cruisers. This was in order to ensure protection of Imperial trade routes and to cope with the European threat. The British cabinet claimed that parity was relative and that what Britain was prepared to grant America might perhaps not be mathematical parity but it was relative parity according to needs. The Americans totally rejected this proposal. Admiral Jones infuriated the Japanese by continually insisting that a 5:4 ratio was parity for Japan. In preliminary talks he threatened: …if the application of the 10–10–6 ratio should fail to materialize, the United States will achieve it through a naval race backed by its unlimited wealth.49 The Japanese delegation was increasingly fearful of the formation of a joint Anglo-American understanding and on 6 July came out openly for the 70% ratio (5:5:3.5).50 It is not true that the principal motivation for Japan entering into bilateral talks with Britain was primarily designed to prevent this AngloAmerican collaboration. Anglo-Japanese talks emanated from a request by Hugh Gibson, to try and break the Anglo-American deadlock over cruisers. He told the Japanese and British delegates that if they could reach an agreement between themselves on the issues, the United States ‘would have no difficulty in completing the triangle’.51 At the public session on 14 July, he stated, rather optimistically: If some basis can be found which is naturally acceptable to the British and Japanese delegations, I feel sure that it will be possible for the American delegation to make the agreement complete.52 The Anglo-Japanese plan arrived at by Admirals Field (GB) and Kobayashi (Japan) was 500,000 tons surface vessels for the United States and Great Britain and 325,000 ton for Japan thus establishing a 5:5:3.25 ratio. On submarines, Britain agreed to parity for Japan giving 60,000 tons for all three. The Americans rejected this proposal and so, surprisingly, did the British cabinet. In addition, the Japanese government, under Prime Minister Tanaka


Giichi, rejected the proposals on 18 July and followed this with a strongly worded directive from the Navy Minister Osumi not to go below 70%.53 There can be little doubt that but for the deadlock between Britain and America over auxiliaries, there would have been a major clash between Japan and the United States over the 70% ratio. The available evidence suggests that neither Prime Minister Tanaka nor the naval authorities in Tokyo would concede on this and the United States too was equally determined to make no concession which would give Japan 70%. The conference ended unsuccessfully, due to the Anglo-American deadlock and Japan emerged from the conference with a rather less tarnished image than the others. In fact, Admiral Saitō’s work, both in keeping his own delegation in place and in patiently mediating between the Americans and the British was widely praised. However the preliminary skirmishes between Japan and the United States were not good omens for any future conference. Saito had controlled the delegation and regarding the compromise AngloJapanese plan had stated that the proposal had the support of the ‘entire delegation’ but he was over-ruled by Tokyo. In the end, power in all three delegations rested with the home authorities. Itō Masanori was in a sense, correct, in referring to Delegations at Geneva as mere ‘message boys’.54 It is generally assumed that political appointees were dominated by technical experts at the conference and this was one of the major causes of failure.55 This is open to question in that, whilst the American delegation was largely dominated by Admiral Jones and thus by the United States Navy General Board’s views, the same could not be said of Japan and Great Britain. The technical committees had been abandoned, as at Washington, since no agreement could be reached. The fact that no prior consultation took place and that all parties stated clear positions at the outset of the conference, was certainly not conducive to obtaining agreements. At Washington the Americans had been negotiating from strength in that its capital ship superiority gave it a clear advantage in negotiations. At Geneva, America negotiated from weakness due to congressional resistance to increased naval expenditure. The crucial issue for the three major naval powers, complex and inter-related as it was, rested with arguments over parity. Britain grudgingly conceded parity at the conference to America, only to have the British cabinet redefine the concept of parity away from a strict mathematical parity. This relative parity in effect meant a semblance of superiority for Britain in auxiliaries. Japan made no impression at all on the American position regarding ratios. The Americans wished to keep British overall tonnage low, in order to restrict Japan, but it was to be 10:6 not 10:7 as Japan proposed.


The Anglo-Japanese compromise plan would have achieved 10:7 overall for Japan but it was ultimately rejected by all three powers. KATŌ’S ROLE IN THE GENEVA CONFERENCE Katō’s role in the debate over arms limitation at Geneva was peripheral and documentary evidence on his involvement is almost non-existent. There is no diary for this period nor are there any records of the Commander-in-Chief Combined Fleet. It should be borne in mind that whilst holding this position Katō could not speak out. Despite his undoubted knowledge of arms limitation and the fact that events in Geneva might directly affect his fleets, the Commander-in-Chief Combined Fleet was by tradition, purely a military officer and as such had to remain apolitical. Adolph Clemensen has stated that ‘Kanji Katō headed the naval committee which produced the plan for the Geneva Conference’ but there is no evidence for this and Clemensen provides no source.56 It is possible to argue that Katō had some influence on the 1923 National Defence Plan which formed the basis for the building programmes after Washington. In addition, he was Vice-Chief of the Naval General Staff when the Naval Arms Limitation Committee began its research but there is no mention of his involvement in this committee in the official biography or other Japanese language materials. At this time, Katō did write a very interesting letter to Admiral Saitō Makoto attempting to dissuade the elder statesman from accepting the Geneva appointment.57 Katō pointed out that the United States delegate (Gibson) was inexperienced and of low prestige and the British delegate (Cecil) was an idealist. Therefore the conference would end in failure. Katō believed that the United States was not serious since she was sending such a low-ranking figure. Katō therefore recommended that Saito had more important things to do in Korea, ‘on which the fate of the Empire depended’. Katō also indicated that the appointment of a leading naval figure such as Saitō, would be disadvantageous to the navy as was shown at Washington. Katō did concede that by appointing someone of Saitō’s administrative and political experience, this would express Japan’s wishes for peace and this would benefit the Empire. However, the conference might well fail, Katō continued, and then it might be said that Japan had ruptured the conference by sending a naval figure. Katō urged Saitō to consider the complexity and speed involved in the negotiations and stated that he might benefit from having a confidante and Katō offered to send one. Katō finished by saying


that if Saitō went to this conference, which Katō felt would fail, it would damage Saitō’s career. Based on this letter, Asada Sadao reached a number of interesting conclusions. He wrote: The move to appoint Saitō as Chief Plenipotentiary caused Katō Kanji deep concern…in an exceedingly audacious manner he requested Saitō decline the offer.58 Katō’s reasons, according to Asada, were first that Gibson, the American delegate, was young and lacking in weight and could not in any way be compared with Saitō. Secondly Katō made reference to the …most powerful lessons of the Washington Conference and, as for the sending of a leading naval figure a Chief Delegate from the position of the navy this was disadvantageous.59 Asada assumes here that what Katō feared above all was that Saitō, like Katō Tomosaburō at Washington, would place considerations taken from an overall political perspective above narrow strategic military needs. Asada states clearly that the letter indicates that Katō believed Saito to be lacking in both experience and ability and that Katō’s offer of a ‘trusted person’; a confidante, turned out to be a ‘hardliner’, who would in effect be a watchdog. Asada concludes that Katō placed very little value on Saitō’s diplomatic ability and that Katō implied that Saitō lacked the requisite qualities for the job. The letter in question does tell us a considerable amount about Katō but its text does not substantiate many of Asada’s conclusions. The first thing to note is that Katō believed that the conference would fail. His assessment of Gibson was shrewd and his conclusions were proved to be correct. Incidentally, Katō did not, as Asada tells us, compare Gibson to Saitō. Katō wrote that the position of Chief Delegate in no way compared with that of Governor-General of Korea. Katō believed that the absence of a powerful figure such as Charles Evans Hughes meant the conference would fail. This being the case, Saitō was wasting his time and there was a good chance that Saitō’s reputation would be damaged as a result of the failure. Katō was well aware that a political admiral such as Saitō could and would be capable of carrying out a policy which was unpalatable to the naval authorities. Whilst Katō, therefore, from a narrow naval basis, may have feared this, his letter is surely evidence of how highly he rated Saitō not the reverse. The offer of a


specialist was, as with the other advice, probably borne of Katō’s own experience at Washington. Katō knew better than anyone else how important good and timely technical advice was and the Chief Naval Adviser to Saitō at Geneva was Admiral Kobayashi, a bureaucrat from the Navy Ministry. Contrary to Asada Sadao’s conclusions, one finds it difficult to interpret the letter as ‘exceedingly audacious’. Katō’s relationship with Saito went back over thirty years and they corresponded regularly.60 Whilst Katō should perhaps not have written the letter at all he was the leading expert on the subject of naval limitation within the Navy and his advice seems both well intentioned and sensible. However, his position as Commander-in-Chief Combined Fleet probably prevented him from being more visible on this issue during conference negotiations. Only one public statement by Katō during the conference has so far come to light. In a newspaper interview Katō was quoted as follows: The most pleasing element in the discussion of the current conference is that not only the Navy but also the Foreign Ministry officials and public opinion are united…Public opinion matches the opinions of the major newspapers which form the opinion of the nation. These are at one this time and this is perhaps because the government has worked very carefully on this. Unfortunately this unity was lacking at Washington thus forcing us into great difficulties at that conference.61 The statement was perhaps, open to question regarding ‘unified opinion’ and co-operation between the government and the press and was rather bland, being very much a public relations statement. Nevertheless, in this interview Katō returned to one of his favourite themes, namely that the unification and guidance of public opinion behind a negotiating team, was crucial if Japan was to be successful at such international conferences. Although Katō probably learned much from Secretary of State Hughes’ masterly control of the press at Washington, Katō had remarked on the need for the guidance and unification of Japanese public opinion in foreign relations even before the First World War. It is also clear that Katō was now openly critical of the Washington settlements and one must assume that this was because of the consequences of the ratio for naval planning in the intervening years. The ratio in capital ships had distorted naval planning, as the navy vainly sought to compensate for an inferior ratio in capital ships by a build-up in auxiliary vessels. In addition, the Washington agreements had required the sinking of serviceable


ships, many with long traditions. There were also cuts in officer training. Such matters were undoubtedly damaging to the navy’s morale. Yet another area where the 5:5:3 ratio was causing problems was in training for combat. In naval exercises in August 1927, a major collision occurred between a cruiser and destroyer carrying out night combat training and a great number of lives were lost. The main responsibility, ultimately, rested with Katō Kanji as Commander-in-Chief Combined Fleet, and he offered to resign but this was not accepted. It has been suggested that Katō was at fault for conducting such relentless night exercises in an obsessive effort to make up for deficiencies resulting from the inferior ratios allocated to Japan at Washington.62 It is undeniably correct that the Japanese Navy did place greater emphasis on intensive and night combat training after the Washington Conference. Admiral of the Fleet Tōgō, for example, on Katō’s return to Japan in 1922, had impressed upon the younger man that if international conferences limited the amount and size of equipment, then one must improve the quality of men and available equipment.63 Night combat training was not Katō’s idea, although he was a strong advocate of it, as he was of intensive and continuous training of all kinds. He was, like Tōgō whom he so admired, a hard taskmaster. No one in the navy criticised Katō personally for the accident and Navy Minister Okada Keisuke, later a strong critic of Katō stated: ‘It can’t be helped, this sort of thing will happen more and more’64. This seems to indicate that though the naval leadership were aware of the hazards of night drilling, they continued to believe night exercises were indispensable. But it is correct to link night drilling with the Washington Conference. Katō later addressed the officers of the Combined Fleet and told them: …a 5:5:3 ratio exercises such as the one held the other day will become more and more necessary… Training and drilling are vital to overcome the 5:5:3 ratio and obtain victory in combat.65 As with the army, the increased emphasis on fierce training and fighting spirit in the navy in the mid-twenties, appears at first to be a return to premodern samurai training advocating spiritual superiority over technology. In fact, there were undoubtedly officers in both the navy and the army who believed that a return to pre-modern values would be of benefit. But one can argue, that this emphasis on ‘spirit’ was a natural and ‘rational’ response to limitations in the size of an army or navy, brought about by domestic or international arms control developments. Although this emphasis may have eventually had extremely negative consequences and resulted in a regression


to a fervent belief in the innate superiority of Japanese spirit over Western technology, it does not alter the original ‘rational’ reason for emphasising ‘fighting spirit’. Katō was immensely popular with the officer corps of the navy and during his period of office, he greatly increased popular support for the Commanderin-Chief Combined Fleet.66 On 10 December 1928, Katō was transferred and appointed to the Supreme Military Council. A little over a month later he was appointed to the highest ‘command’ post in the navy, Chief of the Naval General Staff. One may reasonably conclude that, in the years from Washington to the aftermath of the Geneva Conference, Katō’s dislike of the ‘inferior ratios’, as well as his doubts on naval limitation, were being reinforced by the damage he perceived it was doing to the navy. In this he may, at times have been ahead of or even created trends within the navy whilst at other times he was clearly being influenced by or reflecting such trends. Nevertheless, his pessimism about Geneva had been well-founded and his scep-ticism concerning the motivations behind the calling of such conferences did not auger well for the future. Yet another naval conference was on the horizon and this time Katō Kanji was to be in a very powerful and visible position and he soon found himself at the very centre of a major domestic political crisis. Notes 1 Asada Sadao, ‘Japanese Admirals and the Politics of Naval Limitation: Katō Tomosaburō vs Katō Kanji’, in Gerald Jordan (ed.) Naval Warfare in the Twentieth Century, (London, 1977), p. 157 notes that Katō Tomosaburō told Saitō Makoto ‘I thought I was about to die in Washington’. Asada emphasises Katō Kanji constantly argued with Plenipotentiary Katō. Shidehara Kijūrō noted that Katō Tomosaburō received a very hard time from Katō Kanji and that they often argued and discussed late into the night. He also stresses Katō Kanji’s arguments with the Americans. Shidehara Kijūrō, Gaikō Gojūnenshi, (Tokyo, 1951), pp 64–65. One should be aware that Shidehara and Katō were fierce opponents during the London Naval Treaty Crisis of 1930 and Shidehara’s memory may therefore have been somewhat selective. 2 Ian Nish, ‘Naval Aspects of the Washington Conference’, in William G Beasley (ed.), Modern Japan: Aspects of History, Literature and Society, (Tokyo 1976), p. 79. Ikeda Kiyoshi, Nihon no Kaigun, mentions the possible dissatisfaction as a reason for returning home but confirms that Katō did enter hospital. op. cit., KKD, p. 744, mentions a rumour circulating in Tokyo that Katō returned early because of the ‘great collision’ with Plenipotentiary Katō but clearly refutes this. Katō’s diary covers the sea voyage home and confirms that he was very ill. 3 Washington Post, 19/11/21.


4 5 6 7 8 9

10 11

12 13 14

15 16 17 18

19

20

21 22 23 24 25 26 27

Japan Chronicle, 3/3/22. ibid. ibid. ibid. op. cit., Asada, (1977), p. 155 ‘A figure of unquestioned leadership and towering prestige, he simply defied any challenge from his subordinates’ The best treatments of this subject in Japanese are Kobayashi Tatsuo, ‘Tōsui Kanpanron to Kaigun Gunreibu Jōrei no Kaisei’, Kokugakuin Hōkugaku Zasshi, Vol. 5, No.5, (April 1968), pp. 215–248 and Nomura Minoru, ‘Kaigun Gunreibu no Kengen Rakudai no Rekishi to Onken-ha Kaigun Shunō no Rigeneki’, in Nomura Minoru, Rekishi no naka no Kaigun, (Tokyo 1980), pp. 46–80. See op. cit., Asada, (1977), pp. 158ff, for details of Katō Tomosaburō efforts to develop a civilian control system similar to that of the Royal Navy. A convenient summary of the essential naval aspects of this revision is to be found in op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), especially pp. 195–206. See also Shimanuki Takeharu, ‘Daiichiji Sekai Sensō Igo no Kokubō Hōshin, Shoyō Heiryoku, Yōhei Kōryo no Hensen’, Gunji Shigaku, Vol. 9, No. 1, pp. 65ff. op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), pp. 195–197. James Crowley, ‘Japan’s Military Foreign Policies’, in J Morley (ed.), Japan’s Foreign Policy 1868–1941: A Research Guide, (New York, 1974), P. 39. Asada Sadao, ‘The Japanese Navy and its Policy centering on Naval Limitation, 1907–1930’, (unpublished paper presented at the January 1976 Hawaii Conference on ‘US-Japan Relations from World War 1 to the Manchurian Incident), p. 33. ibid., p. 17. op. cit., KKD p. 768. Microfilm MT 24351, Reel 307, p. 98 Japan Advertiser, 17/1/23. Katō Kanji Nikki 4/6/81. A printed version was under preparation whilst I was conducting my doctoral research. I was most grateful to Professor Itō Takashi of Tokyo University.and to Katō’s son for obtaining access to and allowing me to make a copy of the hand-written manuscript. The full diary became available later and is to be found in Sakai Keinan Eiketsu Katō Kanji (Tokyo 1979)… Leonard Humphreys, The Imperial Japanese Army 1918–1929: The Disintegration of the Meiji Military System, Ph.D., (Stanford University, 1974), pp. 122–124, provides a graphic account. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki 9/6/23.Interestingly Katō’s grandson was in charge of the Maritime Self Defence Forces which provided assistance and support at the time of the Kobe earthquake. Imai Seichi, Nihon Kindaishi, Vol. 2, (Tokyo 1977), pp. 238–239. op. cit., KKD, pp. 789–794, reproduces the complete lecture David J Lu, From the Marco Polo Bridge to Pearl Harbor, (Washington DC, 1961), p. 1. op. cit., KKD, pp. 836–840 where Katō’s address is presented in full. I am indebted to Professor Nomura Minoru for this information. However military related materials deemed lost have a habit of reappearing in Japan! This document was discovered by Professor Asada Sadao and can be found in the Saitō Papers at the Kenkyūshitsu, National Diet Library. David Carlton, ‘Great Britain and the Coolidge Naval Disarmament Conference of 1927, Political Science Quarterly, Vol. 83, No. 4, (1968), p. 573.


28 For a general treatment see Richard Dean Burns and Donald Urquidi, Disarmament in Perspective 1918–1939, (Washington, 1968) pp. 83–87. For the British side see op. cit., Carlton and for the American side see Adolph B Clemensen, The Geneva Tripartite Conference of 1927 in Japanese-American Relations Ph.D. (University of Arizona, 1975). For the Japanese side see Kobayashi Tatsuo, ‘Kaigun Gunshuku 1921–1936’ in Taiheiyō Sensō e no Michi, Vol. 1, and Asada Sadao, ‘Nihon Kaigun to Gunshuku: Taibei Seisaku o meguru Seiji Katei’, in Hosoya Chihiro and Saitō Makoto (eds.), Washington Taisei to NichiBei Kankei, (Tokyo, 1978), for naval aspects. Unno Yoshiro Nihon Gaikōshi: Vol. 16, Kaigun Gunshuku Kosho, Fusen Joyaku, (Tokyo, 1973), covers diplomatic aspects thoroughly. For a contemporary account by a leading journalist on naval affairs see Ito Masanori, Gunshuku (Tokyo, 1928).The most recent study is Tadashi Kuramatsu The Geneva Conference of 1927: The British Preparation for the Conference December 1926 to June 1927’ Journal of Strategic Studies Vol 19 No 1 March 1996 pp. 104–121 29 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 217. 30 For France’s position at Washington see Donald Birn, ‘Open Diplomacy: The Washington Conference of 1921–22’, Comparative Studies in Society and History, Vol. 12, (July 1970). The most recent study is Joel Blatt ‘France and the Washington Conference’ in Eric Goldstein John Maurer (eds) The Washington Conference 1921–22: Naval Rivalry, East Asian Stability and the Road to Pearl Harbor Ilford 1994 pp 192–219 31 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 217. 32 For a contemporary analysis of the development of treaty cruisers see Hector Bywater Scientific American, (November 1926). 33 Stephen Roskill, Naval Policy between the Wars, Vol. 1, (London, 1968), p. 332. 34 ibid., p. 332. 35 op. cit., Asada, (1978), p. 369. 36 ibid., pp. 369–370. 37 ibid., p. 370. 38 op. cit., Clemensen, p. 146. 39 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1) p. 218. 40 ibid., p. 219. 41 op. cit., Burns, p. 84. 42 op. cit., Roskill, pp. 449–450. 43 op. cit., Carlton, pp. 580ff. 44 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1) p. 218. 45 op. cit., Carlton, pp. 580ff, for a discussion on the British ‘Doctrine of Requirements 46 op. cit., Kaigun Gunsenbi (1), p. 365. 47 op. cit., Burns, p. 85. 48 op. cit., Roskill, Vol. 1, p. 502. 49 op. cit., Asada, (1978), p. 379. 50 ibid., p. 379. 51 op. cit., Carlton, p. 586. 52 ibid., p. 586. 53 op. cit., Rengō Kantai ~1~ p. 219. 54 op. cit., Itō Masanori, p. 48. 55 op. cit., Burns, pp. 85–87.


56 op. cit., Clemensen, p. 93. 57 From Katō Kanji to Saitō Makoto March 23 1927, Saito Makoto Papers marked ‘Confidential—please destroy upon reading’, I am indebted to Professor Asada for providing a transliteration of this letter 58 op. cit., Asada, (1978), p. 376. 59 ibid. 60 According to the files in the Saitō Papers Katō wrote numerous letters to his superior commencing around 1909. 61 Asahi Shinbun, 5/6/1927. 62 op. cit., Asada, (1978), p. 372. 63 Tōgō stated this also to Captain Yamanashi Katsunoshin who had been despatched home from Washington in advance of Katō Tomosaburō op. cit., Ikeda, Vol. 2, p. 58. 64 op. cit., KKD, p. 855. 65 ibid., p. 851. 66 Okada Teikan (ed.) Okada Keisuke Kaikoroku, (Tokyo, 1977), p. 31.

CHAPTER 6 The Road to the 1930 London Naval Conference

The Geneva Conference of 1927 had signally failed to halt the construction race in auxiliary naval vessels. The immediate cause of the failure was the inability of the United States to obtain concessions on the cruiser issue from Great Britain. Negotiations at Geneva had shown that a simple extension of the Washington agreements was out of the question and that extending existing capital ship ratios to all other vessels created a great number of strategic-technical questions. The various countries involved concluded that technical specialists were not capable of coming to an agreement and in any future conference ought to be relegated to advisory positions, as at Washington. The Anglo-American deadlock over cruisers caused a marked deterioration in Anglo-American relations. The Coolidge Administration in the United States, angered by the failure to achieve its objectives at Geneva, responded in 1927 by announcing that a massive construction programme which included 25 more ‘treaty cruisers’ and one aircraft carrier would now be initiated.1 This dramatic proposal threatened to increase naval competition to an intensity not experienced since the Anglo-German naval race prior to the First World War. The French and Italians were also affected and accelerated their programmes in naval auxiliary construction. As in the period before Geneva, naval planners, in all the major naval nations, continued to try and find ways to offset naval limitation agreements, on capital ship ratios and Pacific fortifications in particular, thus increasing naval competition in auxiliaries. Failure at Geneva and the new American construction programme now posed a major threat to the newly established structure of international relations in the 1920s. According to the Washington Treaty, the next naval discussions were scheduled for 1931, the date of the expiry of the naval holiday in capital ships, and the point at which replacement ship construction could commence. But in the immediate aftermath of Geneva, few had much confidence in the efficacy of another naval limitation conference.

THE ROAD TO THE 1930 LONDON NAVAL CONFERENCE 177

After Geneva, Britain believed there was little immediate prospect of further progress in bilateral talks with the United States and began negotiating on naval limitation with France. In 1928 they reached an ‘accord’ on a formula for naval limitation. Japan approved of this but the United States was strongly opposed and, as the need for an improvement in AngloAmerican relations became imperative, the British government decided not to pursue the ‘accord’ with the French any further.2 It has been said that the failure at Geneva was something which pleased professional navy men in all countries and this was certainly true of Japan. The failure to extend a Washington style agreement to all other classes of ships, meant that Japan’s efforts to offset the ‘inferior ratio’ in capital ships by auxiliary ship construction could continue apace. It also meant that when the next conference took place, probably in Washington in 1931, Japan’s ‘existing strength’ in these areas would be considerably expanded. This in turn would surely improve Japan’s future negotiating position. Since the Washington Conference the Japanese Navy had revised the Imperial National Defence Plan in 1923 and had launched replenishment programmes in auxiliaries in 1923, 1926 and 1927. These programmes were expected to reach completion by 1931. Nevertheless, although the Japanese Navy was proceeding with an auxiliary ship build-up, it also continued to study naval limitation in the aftermath of the Geneva Conference. Generally speaking, Japanese naval planners still perceived certain advantages in naval limitation talks but, in any case, they needed to prepare for a further naval conference around 1931. Some two months after Geneva, on 15 October 1927, Navy Minister Admiral Okada Keisuke ordered Vice-Admiral Nomura Keisaburō to establish a Gunbi Seigen Kenkyūkai (Research Committee on Arms Limitation).3 Despite the pessimism engendered by the experience at Geneva, there still existed considerable international support for disarmament and arms control measures and agreements that might ease, if not end, competition in armaments. On 27 August 1928 nine nations signed the Kellogg-Briand Pact which renounced war as a means of settling international disputes and America, Britain and Japan were among the signatories.4This international initiative provided the necessary stimulus for reviving the League of Nations Commission on Disarmament. This committee had been adjourned after failing in the previous five sessions to make any real progress on disarmament.5 On 24 and 25 September 1928 the findings of the Imperial Navy’s Research Committee on Arms Limitation were presented to the Navy Minister, Admiral Okada Keisuke. As Asada Sadao has pointed out, these documents reflect the positions of the key personnel involved in the study.6


The majority perceived a continuing improvement in Japanese-American relations and favoured a more moderate China policy close to that of Shidehara Kijūrō. The dissenting minority opinion however, was extremely pessimistic and even hostile regarding relations with the United States. Moreover, the minority opinion was that conflict over competing interests in China was likely to lead to war with the United States. The majority opinion was that the Washington agreements were, on the whole, advantageous to Japan and that Japan would benefit from restricting British and American naval strength to a 10:10:6 ratio in capital ships. Conversely the minority opinion reflected a widespread feeling within the navy that the Washington Treaty had imposed an ‘inferior ratio’ on Japan. Differing views of relations with America notwithstanding the committee were in complete agreement on the matter of auxiliary ship ratios. The report stated firmly that the 70% ratio was ‘absolutely necessary for the nation’s defence, nay for its very existence’ and was to be ‘adhered to without any bargaining at the next conference’. They realised that America would almost certainly oppose this position. The committee was divided between those who would accept a compromise provided Japan obtained a guarantee as to her security needs and those who would rather see the conference fail than compromise on the ratio issue. The research findings clearly reflect a split. On the one hand the majority reflected views similar to those advocated by the late Katō Tomosaburō, who had believed that avoidance of war with America should be the guiding factor. On the other hand, the minority group’s thinking was closer to that of Katō Kanji; and perceived an inevitable conflict with the United States probably over China. In 1928 Katō Kanji was still Commander-in-Chief of the Combined Fleet and it is doubtful that he had any major influence on these discussions. Indeed at this stage, it would appear possible that Katō himself was merely reflecting commonly-held ‘realist’ views rather than creating them within the top echelons of the naval officer corps. In February 1929, the United States Senate finally approved a massive construction programme of fifteen heavy cruisers initiated by the Coolidge administration. This represented a reduction of ten cruisers. However, the Senate attached a rider to the effect that, in the event of any further agreement, the President would be empowered to suspend all or part of the authorized construction programme.7 Following this a number of significant developments occurred in 1929 that made the early convening of an international naval conference more likely. In March, Herbert Hoover, a Quaker, was elected President of the United States and in June, Ramsay MacDonald formed a Labour Government in Britain. Both men were deeply committed to the principle that reduction of armaments was the surest way to


maintain peace. In July a Minseitō cabinet, under Harnaguchi Osachi was established in Japan as a result of the fall of the Seiyūkai administration of Tanaka Giichi. Faced with a series of persistent and worsening economic crises, the new Japanese government was determined to carry through its deflationary policy that involved a series of severe budgetary cuts.8 The opportunity to reduce naval expenditure was a major factor in persuading the Japanese government to participate in another naval conference. Indeed, the economic benefits of cutting arms expenditure was important for all three countries, especially after the onset of the world economic crisis following the Wall Street Crash of October 1929. All three governments were determined on a solution to the naval race and advocated not simply arms control but actively sought arms reduction. In April 1929, the League of Nations Commission on Disarmament, having received new life from the signing of the Kellogg-Briand Pact, began discussions on armaments once more. However they again found that no substantial progress could be expected unless advances were first made on naval arms control. The Americans preempted the Germans in proposing an international conference on this topic, when the leader of their delegation to the Commission, Hugh Gibson, indicated that America was willing to support major naval reductions. He indicated that a ‘yardstick’ for measuring ships might be provided to solve the vexing problem of negotiations on auxiliary vessels, especially cruisers.9 This proposal was the direct result of President Hoover’s efforts ‘to inject life’ into the League Commission’s deliberations by a ‘bold and unexpected proposal’.10 It proved surprisingly effective and elicited an almost unanimous response throughout the world, in favour of pursuing an agreement on naval limitation and disarmament. Prior to this, Britain and America had already agreed to the necessity of talks on naval questions through diplomatic channels and on 3 May a proposal for a ‘private and confidential exchange of views on naval disarmament’ was communicated by Great Britain.11 As a result of a series of preliminary discussions, the British Government, on 7 October 1929, issued formal invitations to the other four signatories of the Washington Five Power Treaty namely the United States, Japan, France and Italy, to attend a conference on naval limitation to be held in London from January 1930. On 16 October, the Hamaguchi Cabinet willingly accepted. The negotiating positions adopted by Great Britain and particularly America and Japan in the months leading up to the conference, are crucial to an understanding of Japan’s diplomatic and naval responses to the London Conference invitation and outcomes and require treatment in some detail.


THE ANGLO-AMERICAN POSITION To understand the situation faced by Japan, it is necessary to be clear as to the respective positions held by America and Britain vis-a-vis each other as well as their respective attitudes towards Japan individually and jointly regarding naval auxiliary vessel allocations prior to the Conference.12 The key element was still cruiser, especially heavy cruiser ratios, which had caused the failure at Geneva. Before discussing this in some detail, some general remarks about other aspects of ratios require comment. In preliminary discussions, America and Britain agreed to extend the moratorium on capital ship replacement until 1936. America’s position on auxiliaries was predicated on two major principles: parity with Britain and a 60% ratio for Japan in auxiliaries. The United States particularly sought parity with Britain in cruiser ratios and in particular a 60% ratio in heavy cruisers vis-a-vis Japan. America claimed that the principle of a 5:5:3 ratio in auxiliaries had been agreed at Washington and her representatives often mentioned that Katō Tomosaburō himself had agreed to this at that time. Thus, the stage was set for a major confrontation between America and Japan over Japan’s claim for an overall ratio of 70% which America claimed represented an ‘increase’ of 10% in ratio terms. America like Britain, though perhaps not so consistently, was also in favour of the abolition of submarines or certainly the reduction of submarine tonnage’s since these posed a real threat to American naval strategic planning for Pacific operations. Therefore America sought to reduce Japan’s total submarine tonnage. America agreed to reductions of her own levels of destroyer and submarine tonnage’s to a level of parity with Great Britain, provided the latter compromised on the cruiser issue. Great Britain’s position on capital ships shifted dramatically as the conference approached. Prime Minister MacDonald, who had tentatively agreed to extending the moratorium on capital ship replacements to 1936, suddenly began advocating the abolition of capital ships. The American delegates only heard of this on their last night at sea en route to London.13 Great Britain’s position on submarines was that she strongly desired total abolition and although this seemed unlikely she was determined to bring down Japanese overall submarine tonnage. Great Britain did not appear to be opposed to the Japanese principle of 70% overall but opposed Japan’s ‘existing tonnage’ position on submarines. However, for Great Britain the real problem remained the cruiser issue. Britain did not object to even a 70% ratio in heavy cruisers for Japan provided the total number of ships in this class did not exceed twelve.


The following figures indicate that an allocation of twelve to Japan would actually give Japan 80% in heavy cruisers vis-avis Britain if the latter settled for 15. The position on ‘treaty’ cruisers in late 1929 was as follows: Country

Type

Built

Building

Authorized

USA GB Japan USA GB Japan

Heavy Heavy Heavy Light Light Light

1 8 12 38 21

9 24 4 0 0 0

13 0 0 0 0 014

Before the conference, the British and the Americans had attempted to reach an agreement on ‘parity’ in cruisers incorporating adjusted totals in heavy and light cruisers. Britain proposed possessing 15 heavy cruisers and 45 light cruisers and the United States 18 heavy cruisers plus six additional small cruisers. The initial reaction of the United States was one of outrage since they claimed this would require them to build and the aim was arms reduction. To some extent this seems to have been a smoke screen for their real objections since 13 heavy cruisers were in fact only authorised (not building) and if America agreed to 18 she could save on building five 10,000 ton ships and build six 6,000 ton ships. In other words America would build 36,000 tons more rather than 50,000 tons as originally intended.15 Leaving the complexities of how America and Britain perceived ‘parity’ the real problem was clearly that of heavy cruisers. Britain pointed out that if America possessed more than 18 in this class Japan would have to build more. This in turn would seriously threaten British security in the Southwest Pacific and force Great Britain (and possibly Australia and New Zealand) also to build. America initially held out for 23 heavy cruisers but, by the conference, had reduced this to 21 and had probably reached the conclusion that she would have to reduce even further. Britain’s concern with American heavy cruisers was therefore primarily one of concern over its effect on Japan’s heavy cruiser programme. MacDonald felt that if America came down to eighteen Japan could be persuaded to remain at twelve and Britain would be flexible on her light cruiser superiority. America’s concerns were both to obtain a mix of heavy and light cruiser ratios between her and Britain which approximated parity and also keep Japanese heavy cruiser tonnage below 70%.


In discussions on 19 January 1930, immediately prior to the opening of the conference, American Secretary of State and Chief Plenipotentiary Henry Stimson told MacDonald that the United States Senate would never accept a treaty granting Japan 70%.16 The idea of a bilateral pact as a lever to force Japan below 70% now began to take shape. Both parties were certainly determined to keep Japanese heavy cruiser tonnage down but for differing reasons. Basically Prime Minister MacDonald (GB) wished to keep the figures down to allay fears in the dominions, especially Australia, and stated at this stage that, if America would accept 18 in heavy cruisers, Britain could make almost any settlement on light cruisers. By mid-February the basic unity of American and British positions was openly revealed to the Japanese and Stimson expressed regret that Japan would not concede since America had made concessions by reducing to 18. The Japanese position was that if the United States had 18 they would have to build two more ships in order to achieve the 70% ratio. Great Britain accepted that Japan was now entitled to 12.6 or 13 heavy cruisers but felt Japan would settle for a lower figure. It should perhaps be noted here, that whilst America was making concessions on the final number of vessels to be possessed i.e. from 23 (via 21) to 18, her ‘existing strength’ was actually ten according to the ships built and building formula. As Admiral Yarnell (USA) stated in 1930, ‘it is the ships that are built or under construction that count in an armament conference’ and yet America was arguing from figures of ships built, building and authorized.17 The 13 authorized can be regarded merely as paper programme. It could be argued therefore that her concessions were more apparent than real or, perhaps at least that they were not so great as America was trying to claim. Basically, America was asking Britain and Japan, who were superior in heavy cruisers built and building (USA 10: Gs 15: Japan 12), to stand still while the United States built a massive new heavy cruiser fleet. Prime Minister MacDonald perceptively pointed out that the American problem was that her ships were in a programme whilst British ships were on the sea and that therefore the United States would have to build if she desired parity.18 He also intimated that the major weakness of the Japanese position was the seeming rigidity of the ‘Three Fundamental Principles’. These ‘principles were; a ratio of 70% heavy cruisers vis-a-vis the United States, an overall ratio of 70% in auxiliaries and autonomy in submarine tonnage (set at ‘existing strength’ which was 78,000 tons). The Japanese Navy had been carrying out important research on naval limitation since the collapse of the Geneva Conference. This research provided the basis for the so-called ‘Three Principles’ which in turn became


the basis of the Japanese negotiating position in the period immediately prior to the conference. JAPAN’S POSITION PRIOR TO THE CONFERENCE The position taken by the Hamaguchi Cabinet towards the coming conference at London, particularly the strong view taken on the Three Fundamental Principles’, clearly indicated that a consensus had been reached between the government and the navy. Moreover, it was a position that fully reflected the perceived needs and firm convictions of naval planners. The question is when and how did the navy’s ‘Three Principles’ emerge. Professor Ikeda Kiyoshi, in his insightful essay on the London Conference, has suggested that the ‘Three Principles’ were created after Katō Kanji’s appointment to the Naval General Staff. He wrote that Katō Kanji told Admiral Takarabe on the latter’s appointment as Navy Minister in July 1929 that …an overall ratio of 70% in auxiliary ships for the Empire has a long history and is vital for national defence.19 But Ikeda states that Katō made no mention of the ‘Three Principles’ and therefore concludes that they emerged in the Naval General Staff planning after this time. Ikeda then adds: These ‘Three Principles’ were drawn up when Katō Kanji was Chief of the Naval General Staff. Shortly after the decision to adopt the ‘Three Principles’ for the London Conference Suzuki Kantarō, Katō’s predecessor as Chief of the Naval General Staff told Vice-Admiral Yamanashi Katsunoshin (Deputy Navy Minister) ‘when I retired from the position of Chief of the Naval General Staff last year such things did not exist…20 Katō’s general statement to Takarabe did not preclude the existence of the ‘principles’. Suzuki Kantarō’s assertion appears especially strange when we consider Japanese naval policy at the time of the Geneva Conference. At that time Suzuki was Chief of the Naval General Staff. In the instructions handed to the Chief Naval Advisor, Kobayashi Seizō for Geneva it was explicitly stated that Japan needed ‘a standard not lower than 70% of the United States as well as Britain’. The instructions also asked for ‘the requisite ratio of 70% in 10,000 ton 8’ gun cruisers and the retention of Japan’s existing submarine strength, 70,000 tons’.21 Suzuki’s remarks seem all the more strange since at


the time of the Geneva Conference, he had taken the position that The size of armament is a matter to be decided by the Chief of the Naval General Staff ,22 Suzuki proceeded to oppose any change in the Japanese negotiating position that he had presumably approved prior to the conference. Given the apparent contradiction, a summary of the Japanese Navy’s position in the period from the collapse of the Geneva Conference to the opening of the London Conference, would seem appropriate here. As mentioned previously, the Japanese Navy had continued to study naval limitation after Washington and Geneva, since Japanese naval officers still perceived certain advantages in naval limitation measures. In any case since further conferences seemed inevitable it made sense to prepare for them. Some two months after Geneva, on 15 October 1927 a Gunbi Seigen Kenkyūkai (Research Committee on Arms Limitation) had been established. In late September 1928 its findings were presented to the Navy Minister. The committee laid special emphasis on the 70% ratio in auxiliaries and the need to preserve a ratio of 70% in heavy cruisers. This had become even more important since the United States Navy General Board had surmounted the first obstacle in its major expansion programme when the House of Representatives authorised the funds for 15 heavy cruisers in March 1928. In view of this the Japanese Navy researchers believed, that should this American plan go forward, Japan would need to construct a further five heavy cruisers in order to maintain the 70% ratio.23 As a consequence of the American programmes the Japanese Navy began planning for post-1931 capital ship replacement and further auxiliaries to cope with the scheduled American expansion in auxiliaries. Therefore, on 19 September 1928 (the week before the Limitation Committee findings were presented), the Navy Ministry and the Naval General Staff had commenced discussions on a new replenishment programme. On 5 March 1929, agreement had been reached between Okada Keisuke (Navy Minister) and Katō Kanji (the new Chief of the Naval General Staff) and a new plan was drafted. This plan, covering the period up to 1936, (the expiry date of the Washington Treaties) was for four capital ships (replacing over age vessels), five cruisers, eight destroyers, 32 submarines and various other assorted vessels totalling 112 ships 190,240 tons.24 On the basis of this naval plan, Okada began discussions with the Finance Ministry on 14 May 1929, but since there were signs of another naval limitation conference being imminent, the two sides agreed to postpone discussions until after the conference.25 In fact, it might have been wiser, tactically, to have obtained approval. By so doing, Japan would have strengthened its negotiating position at London since the Americans included ‘authorised but not yet building’ ships in their new definition of ‘existing


strength’. On 28 June the Navy Minister Okada presented a policy paper to the Tanaka Cabinet as part of preparations for a conference. This document entitled ‘Matters relating to Countermeasures on Armament Limitation’ in the section on ‘Imperial Policy relating to Armament Limitation’ stated: We recognize the need for a level of 70% in auxiliaries vis-a-vis the world’s largest navies…regarding the content of the naval strength to be possessed we place special emphasis on 70% for large ships above the heavy cruiser carrying 20 centimetre guns’. Additionally, we ought to have autonomy in light cruisers and below (including submarines).26 On 19 July 1929, the new Hamaguchi Cabinet cabled instructions to the Japanese Ambassador to Great Britain, Matsudaira Tsuneo. The Ambassador was asked to inform Prime Minister Ramsay MacDonald and United States Ambassador Dawes that ‘our country desires a ratio of 70% overall’.27 Then on 20 August, the Cabinet instructed Ambassador Matsudaira to request 70% in heavy cruisers and 70% in light cruisers vis-à-vis the United States and 80,000 tons in submarines.28 Matsudaira attempted to enlist the support of Ambassador Dawes and Prime Minister MacDonald and the latter promised to help. However, it appeared that the Anglo-American negotiations were moving in the direction of an agreement on 21 (USA) to 18 (GB) in heavy cruisers. Therefore, on 20 September, the Hamaguchi Cabinet again cabled Matsudaira informing him that a 21:18 agreement would require Japan to possess approximately 40,000 tons more in heavy cruisers to retain the necessary ratio with the United States.29 The Japanese government felt that such a development would not be in accordance with the spirit of arms reduction and therefore requested Matsudaira to persuade the Americans to reduce to below 21 heavy cruisers. If not. Japan had no choice but to build and that would in turn compel Britain to commence further construction in cruisers. Ironically Matsudaira had actually contributed to the formation of a joint front between America and Great Britain. When he had initially expressed Japan’s willingness to participate in a naval limitation conference, Matsudaira had recommended two important steps.30 First that Britain and America conduct preliminary discussions on parity. Given the cruiser issue and the Japanese ratio’s relationship to both sides, Matsudaira had created a situation whereby Japan (and others) were reduced to responding to an Anglo-American ‘fait accomplis’ since all further decisions on auxiliary vessels would henceforth be judged in terms of the Anglo-American settlement.


Second, Matsudaira had asked for Japanese-American discussions on Japan’s security requirements. On 18 September, the British Prime Minister MacDonald met Matsudaira and concluded that Japan would accept an allocation of 18(USA):15(GB):12(Japan) in heavy cruisers.31 However, on 20 September, the Japanese government informed Matsudaira that if America settled for 18 heavy cruisers, Japan must build two more and if America opted f or 21 then Japan must build a further four.32 In the latter part of September 1929 Takarabe Takeshi, Okada’s successor as Navy Minister, ordered his Kaigun Gunshukuin (Naval Disarmament Committee members), one captain and two commanders, to draft instructions for the delegation to the coming conference and on 4 October it submitted a draft.33 Five days later, the Navy Ministry began negotiating with the Foreign Ministry concerning draft instructions and from 12 October the leaders of the Naval General Staff inaugurated a series of five study groups.34 There was undoubtedly considerable opposition from right-wing groups over Japan attending another naval conference.35 These right-wing elements perceived the forthcoming conference as yet another device by which the United States was seeking to tie Japan’s hands in Asia, especially China. Premier Hamaguchi therefore sought a consensus amongst the more important groupings in Japanese political circles and on 10 October the Cabinet, leading members of the Privy Council, Opposition Party leaders and others, attended a briefing at the Navy Minister’s official residence.36 This was generally taken as indicating that all key political groupings supported the cabinet position on Japan’s conference aims. After the briefing, the Prime Minister announced to the press that he intended to seek a 10:7 ratio with the United States in heavy cruisers stating that this was indispensable to Japan’s security and also reasonable since it showed the defensive nature of Japan’s navy. Moreover, he added such a ratio would permit America to greatly increase her existing strength over Japan.37 The United States was now to be allowed to build whilst Japan virtually stood still. Japan’s acceptance of the invitation to London was made on 16 October 1929. The Hamaguchi Cabinet had willingly responded since the external policy of this new government was based on co-operation with America and Britain, co-operation with China and Disarmament. Internally it concentrated on ‘purification of politics’ and fiscal retrenchment and a return to the gold standard. The latter had been further stimulated by increased international pressure.38 Thus, the conference provided a unique opportunity for them to increase their control over Japanese naval building plans, such as the postponed auxiliary replenishment programme and the renewal of capital construction in 1931.


The British invitation stressed that they wished to negotiate on all classes of vessels, postponement of replacement building in capital ships and total abolition of submarines.39 The Minseitō Cabinet clearly perceived naval reductions as an essential prerequisite to achieving their programme of fiscal reconstruction. Moreover, a return to the gold standard was only possible provided there were continuing good relations with the United States and Great Britain. Thus, a successful international conference, particularly one related to ‘military reductions’, could not but bolster the Hamaguchi administration’s progressive image’. On 18 October the cabinet announced the plenipotentiaries for the delegation. Wakatsuji Reijirō (1865–1949), Matsudaira Tsuneo (1877–1949) Ambassador to Britain, and Admiral Takarabe Takeshi (1868–1949) Navy Minister and later Nagai Matsuzō (1877–1957) Ambassador to Belgium was added. Premier Hamaguchi, like Hara at Washington, assumed the post of Navy Minister protem in Takarabe’s absence and the calibre of the team was a clear reflection of the fact that government sought a successful conference. The government and especially the Foreign Ministry and the navy leadership now began to draft instructions for the Plenipotentiaries and the naval technical advisors. Meanwhile, the Japanese Ambassador to the United States, Debuchi pressed hard for preliminary discussions on the heavy cruiser issue with American Secretary of State Henry Stimson. However, after considerable stalling, Stimson finally consented to a meeting on 12 November and dismissed Japan’s 10:7 claim insisting: If you will refer to the records of the Washington Conference, you will find that the original formula proposed by this government covered not only capital ships…so all auxiliary combatant craft and especially covered cruisers.40 Foreign Minister Shidehara pointed out on 15 November that this was wrong and that what Stimson claimed had formed no part of that agreement.41 It is possible to interpret Hughes’ opening speech at Washington in such a way as to support Stimson’s claim but that was a ‘proposal’ not an agreement It is also said that Baron Katō had agreed, in principle to the extension of the 60% ratio to all other ships at one point during the Washington Conference. This ‘slip’ by Plenipotentiary Katō was also a factor in the American insistence that a ‘principle’ of 10:6 overall had been agreed at Washington. It was therefore clear that the United States were going to prove very difficult indeed on negotiating the heavy cruiser issue. On 25 November, the Navy Ministry and the Foreign Ministry reached agreement on the draft


instructions for the conference and, on that same day naval leaders attended an unofficial meeting of Gensui gunjisangiin Kaigi (Combined naval members of the Board Fleet Admirals and Supreme Military Council). At the same time the Vice-Chief of the Naval General Staff sent the Deputy Navy Minister a document stipulating the absolute minimum standard the navy must assert for self defence. This was a three part document stipulating a range of possible negotiating positions and this was then passed to RearAdmiral Sakonji the Chief Technical adviser to the London delegation.42 The Cabinet approved the plan put forward by the navy almost ‘in toto’, indicating that the Japanese government was determined to press for what it regarded as its ‘reasonable’ demands. Prior to the departure of the delegation, on 26 November, an outline of the cabinet decision was announced. This indicated the basis on which the delegation would negotiate in London: 1. With the objective of preserving international peace and lightening national burdens, to endeavour to advance from the stage of arms limitation to that of achieving arms reduction. 2. To possess as an ironclad rule, armaments which offer no threat or threat of invasion to anyone. 3. We assert the following three principles a) an overall tonnage versus the USA in surface vessels of 70%; b) A heavy cruisers ratio of 70% vis-àvis the USA and c) Autonomy in terms of submarine tonnage’s which is the existing tonnage possessed of 78,000 tons.43 These so-called ‘Three Fundamental Principles’, in 3. above, marked a departure from previous conferences in that the ratio and tonnage figures were explicitly publicised and clearly stated in the instructions to the principal Delegates. This indicated that the government was, at this point in time, fully behind the navy. However, Debuchi’s failure to make any progress with Stimson did not give Japan’s leaders any cause for optimism. Consequently when the Americans invited the Japanese delegation to stop off in the United States, Japan gladly accepted hoping that further progress could be made before the opening of the Conference. The delegation left for London via the United States on 26 November 1929. On 2 December, prior to their arrival, Foreign Minister Shidehara had made yet another attempt to persuade Stimson. He suggested that the discussion on heavy cruisers might proceed more smoothly if the present situation was taken as the basis. In other words a discussion on cruisers might proceed based on ‘existing strength’. But, since America at


this point only had one heavy cruiser built Stimson rejected this proposal.44 This caused further apprehension on the part of the Japanese since it further confirmed that there were going to be major problems with the Americans over heavy cruisers. The Japanese Ambassador in Washington had made little progress and waited for the Japanese delegation to arrive for a further attempt to obtain concessions from the Americans. Plenipotentiary Wakatsuki and his team did meet Stimson in Washington but the United States Secretary of State made it clear that if Japan asked for more than the 60% agreed at the Washington Conference, this would create a very unfavourable impression on the American people. Wakatsuki responded that Japan was very willing to reduce cruiser and submarine tonnage and agree to making submarine warfare illegal provided America agreed to a 10:7 ratio. Stimson then began talking of the difficulties of defending two coastlines and the great American sacrifices made at the Washington Conference. Thus, not only were the Americans unprepared to discuss in terms of the principle of ‘existing strength’ which they had laid down at Washington, but they were now actually arguing on the basis of ‘national needs’, a principle they had rejected outright at Washington. Finally, Stimson stated forcibly that, unless the Japanese Navy approved the 10:6 ratio in principle, the United States Navy would be expanded until its goals were reached.45 The most important departure from previous conferences was that the ratio’s were explicitly stated in the Japanese government’s instructions to the Plenipotentiaries and in the instructions to the naval technical advisors. The army had desired further development of Pacific fortifications but its requests had been ignored. Nevertheless, as it was a naval conference the army were quite content to wait and see if the conference offered the chance of reducing naval spending and thus offered the army a larger share of the defence budget.46 On 26 November the Cabinet approved the instructions and on 28 November the Prime Minister, Hamaguchi and the Chief of the Naval General Staff Admiral Katō Kanji individually reported to the throne and received the Imperial sanction. Takarabe, the Navy Minister had hoped that the Emperor could be inveigled, by means of a Gozen Kaigi (Conference in the Imperial Presence) to bind the delegates even more strongly to the letter of the instructions, but the genro Prince Saionji Kimmochi had managed to block this manoeuvre.47 The Three Fundamental Principles’ continually reappear in various naval policy and planning documents from Geneva onward. However, they were not always stated explicitly and the order of priority amongst them kept changing. Initially the most important ‘principle’ had been the ‘overall ratio of 70% in auxiliaries’ but the pace of technological change, embodied


especially in the newer heavy cruisers, as well as the expansion of the American cruiser programme had necessitated adjustments relegating the ‘overall ratio’ to third place by the time of the London Conference. These changes were in part a result of the addition of an attrition strategy to that of interceptive operations against an oncoming American fleet crossing the Pacific. This required a full complement of submarines as well as an appropriate ratio of heavy cruisers.48 The Naval General Staff in 1929 had produced a report on heavy cruisers which indicated that the emergence of this new ‘treaty cruiser’ with its greater speed, cruising range and firepower could only be cancelled out by ships of the same class and this was a view shared by the British (but not, strangely, by the American) Navy. By the time the London Conference was announced the Japanese Navy had reversed the order of the Three Principles’ and now felt that the most important element was heavy cruisers and that the ratio must be at least 70%.49 Concerning submarines the Japanese did not argue in terms of a ratio, that is to say relative strength, but stressed the need for an overall tonnage decided autonomously. For Japan this meant its existing strength of 78,000 tons. Therefore, parity in submarine tonnage at less than 78,000 tons would be regarded as a failure. In June 1929, Navy Minister Okada had asked for autonomy in light cruisers and below, but by the London Conference, Japan was prepared to compromise only on light cruisers and below (excluding submarines). This was in fact an offer to compromise on the one issue which Japanese naval planners had refused to concede at Geneva even when offered 80% in heavy cruisers. In the period between Washington and London some 54 heavy cruisers were in active service world-wide and this class of ship was increasingly regarded as a kind of quasi-capital ship whose only effective adversary was a ship of the same class (or an undetected submarine). Therefore it seems reasonable to assume that the Japanese Navy was altering its priorities as their knowledge of this new class of ship advanced. Moreover, the Japanese were faced with the prospect of the United States constructing 15 more of the latest ships in this class. Japan was probably confident of obtaining a 70% ratio agreement in heavy cruisers with the United States. Immediately prior to London, Japan’s ‘existing strength’ in heavy cruisers of less than twenty years of age was eight completed and four building. America had only completed one heavy cruiser (Salt Lake City) and was still completing another nine. Thus, according to the definition of ‘existing strength’, argued so vehemently by the United States delegation at Washington this, meant that Japan had twelve and America had eleven. By Japan’s definition of ‘existing strength, i.e. ships built Japan had eight and the United States had one. However the United States had altered


the definition of ‘existing strength’ to incorporate ships authorised and thus added another 15 to their own total. The United States was also claiming that the principle of 10:6 for auxiliaries had been agreed at Washington and that in any case the heavy cruiser was a kind of capital ship and therefore subject to the capital ship ratio. Japan had no further heavy cruisers authorized though she had been seeking Finance Ministry support for a further five. By the new American definition of ‘existing strength’ Japan had twelve and the United States had 26. Not for the first or last time in international relations Japan found that once she had mastered the rules of the game to her advantage, the Western Powers changed the rules. In this case it was evident to all that America sought not only to ‘rule the waves’ but to ‘waive the rules’! Japan, therefore, was faced with an enormous task at London since the government had settled on figures that represented the absolute minimum and therefore any compromise would mean an infringement of one of the three principles. In addition, the Japanese government had publicly stated these principles at home and abroad so that it would be apparent to all that Japan was being forced to concede if she budged from her pre-conference plans. One further complicating factor was that the ‘Three Fundamental Principles’ were not of the same value although the public did not know this. Perhaps more importantly they were principles with differing bases; two principles were based on ratios and one on an absolute amount. On the latter, submarine tonnage, the British invitation to the conference had broached the possibility of a total abolition of submarines (a recurring British pipe-dream) and the Japanese knew negotiations were going to prove extremely tricky. With the benefit of hindsight, it is perhaps possible to suggest that the biggest single error was for Japan to lay down absolute minimum figures leaving herself with logical and moral arguments in her favour but with almost no flexibility. However, Ramsay MacDonald was in error when he commented on Japan’s ‘rigidity’ on the ‘Three Principles’. In reality there was a certain amount of flexibility even in the Naval General Staff’s position. The heavy cruiser ratio was the most important and there was no flexibility on the ratio but there was some flexibility in terms of numbers possessed. There was no flexibility on submarine tonnage. But it was recognized by naval planners that sacrifices might have to be made in light cruisers and destroyers. With this background in mind we can now turn to Katō Kanji’s activities immediately prior to the conference.


KATŌ KANJI’S POSITION BEFORE THE CONFERENCE On 10 October 1928 Katō had ended his tour of duty as Commander-inChief Combined Fleet, the highest command position afloat. During his two year tour Katō had been a great success.50 He was next appointed a Supreme Military Councillor, a position he occupied for a little over a month. Then, since Suzuki Kantarō, Chief of the Naval General Staff had been promoted to the august office of Grand Chamberlain, Katō was appointed his successor on 22 January 1929. There is little doubt that Katō’s was a popular appointment within the navy especially amongst Naval General Staff officers. Suzuki had been a former Navy Minister (and Chief of the Naval General Staff) and was of the ‘politician/administrator’ rather than ‘command’ type of naval officer, as his new appointment indicated. It was a very proud moment for Fukui since two of its sons, Okada Keisuke and Katō Kanji, now occupied the ‘Big Two’ positions in the Imperial Navy. It was perhaps further confirmation, if that was still needed, that Satsuma’s total dominance of the top echelons of the navy was a thing of the past. The appointment was the highest ‘command’ position in the navy carrying with it the right of iaku jōsō (direct access to the Emperor). In July 1929, Takarabe Takeshi was appointed Navy Minister for the third time and took his place in the new Minseitō Cabinet of Hamaguchi Osachi. Takarabe and Katō were quite close and it has been suggested that Takarabe had at times helped Katō’s career.51 At the time Takarabe took up his appointment Japan was already making preparations for the coming conference. Immediately after his appointment Katō informed Takarabe: The Empire’s basic plan on disarmament is something that was approved by the previous government. However the Empire’s assertion of 70% overall in auxiliary vessels has a long history Since the realization of this objective is, extremely important matter in terms of national defence, it is necessary not only to get the government to understand this thoroughly but also for it to lead and unify public opinion and ensure the support of the whole nation for the Empire’s position on disarmament. In order to achieve an advantageous position from which the Empire’s objective can be pursued I recognize the necessity of devising the appropriate measures ahead of time.52 As mentioned previously, Professor Ikeda sees this statement as evidence that the Three Fundamental Principles’ had not been formulated yet since Katō only referred to the ‘overall 70% ratio’. But it seems fair to say that


Katō probably did not need to state such things in detail since Takarabe had twice previously been Navy Minister and was surely well aware of the situation. What is perhaps more important here is Katō’s advocation, yet again, of the need to lead public opinion and thus obtain the nation’s support. Mizuno Kotoku, a naval critic writing in Chūo Kōron chided Katō Kanji for his stand on public opinion thus: I wonder if Naval Chief of Staff Katō identifies an international conference with a baseball game and believes that other parties will yield to our demands, if only we are backed by a vociferous public opinion… I fear that the national backing with such a fanfare would make the mood of the conference more tense and the conclusion of an agreement more difficult.53 In the years since Washington, a consensus had been developing within the navy and in right wing circles in Japan, that the ‘ratio’ was unfair. Plenipotentiary Ishii had stated so publicly at Geneva in 1927. Those of Katō’s inclination were certainly resentful and Katō publicly and privately, had condemned the ‘unfair ratio’ as ‘irrational’, and designed to perpetuate British and American supremacy at sea.54 Those in favour of the success of the next conference at almost any price, such as Prince Saionji, Grand Chamberlain Suzuki and Prime Minister Hamaguchi, were aware that Japan would probably have to make some concessions at the conference. They were most apprehensive lest the likes of Katō utilize the media to create the impression that it would be better to have the conference fail rather than concede on Japan’s absolute minimum strength in auxiliaries and especially in heavy cruisers and submarines. The Navy Ministry too were aware that Katō was, in many respects, a potential problem if given too much room to manoeuvre. Rear Admiral Sakonji, who was later to be the Chief Technical Adviser at the London Conference, in late September 1929, warned Prince Saionji’s secretary Harada that Katō was, as far as possible, to be prevented from making any announcements on the conference.55 A survey of the press at this time would appear to indicate that, in this at least, the Navy Ministry were rather successful. However, the navy does seem to have taken Katō’s strategy of unifying the press and public opinion as its own prior to the conference. In the months immediately preceding the conference the Navy Ministry, through the Kuroshio (Black Current Society) group of reporters assigned to the Navy Ministry and through meetings with the heads of all the major newspapers, pushed hard for a consensus on the ‘Three Fundamental Principles’. They succeeded in


forging one at this time.56 It is rather interesting to note that whilst Suetsugu Nobumasa was often in attendance at various meetings with newspaper chiefs together with Navy Ministry Staff, Katō Kanji was not amongst the names listed. Katō, however, was active behind the scenes and concentrated his attention on Shidehara Kijūrō, the Foreign Minister and Prime Minister Hamaguchi. From September 1929 Katō had been busy with Naval General Staff preparations for the conference and especially the drawing up of draft instructions for the plenipotentiaries and the naval technical advisers. The latter instructions were primarily the responsibility of the Naval General Staff whilst the former were within the Navy Ministry’s area of responsibility. Nevertheless, the Naval General Staff’s thinking permeated both sets of documents and found its clearest expression in the detailed, explicit instructions on the ‘Three Fundamental Principles’. Having obtained acceptance for these ‘Principles’ in the formal written instructions for the conference, Katō now had three important tasks. First to ensure that the Prime Minister and the Foreign Minister were fully aware of the navy’s position and the unacceptability of anything less than acceptance by the Anglo-American powers of the full Japanese demands. Second, Katō had to prepare a document explaining the position of the navy to the Emperor and third, to rally supporters of the ‘Three Principles’. On 11 October, Katō visited Foreign Minister Shidehara at his private residence. This appears to support Katō’s contention that they had remained on good terms since Washington.57 According to Katō’s recollections of this meeting, he began by expressing his happiness that there had been full accord between the navy and the Foreign Ministry on Japan’s negotiating position for the coming conference. He then went on to point out that since he had taken up his new position, he had himself investigated the present position of the navy regarding national defence and had been shocked by what he had found. Katō pointed out that the Washington agreements and various budget cuts in the Diet had caused a great imbalance in the fleets in auxiliary craft. Katō pointed out that under the present conditions decisive victory and protection of sea lanes could not both be achieved and that both were essential to victory against an oncoming fleet. Therefore the chances of Japan being successful with a navy which was numerically insufficient and unbalanced were a ‘very rare possibility’. He added that the navy was not like the army. It needed, he said, three to four years to train crews, unlike the army who could simply throw in raw recruits as they did in the RussoJapanese War. Katō then stated clearly and forcefully his opinions on the China question saying:


…it goes without saying that I earnestly hope that through Shidehara diplomacy such as it is, we can try and act in concert with the United States. But I think American ambitions regarding economic penetration in this area will not easily permit a compromise since Japan is an obstacle for them. Therefore the struggle for (economic) rights will become a political problem giving rise to a smouldering strife behind the scenes. I do not think that the posture by die-hards on the American side, of clamouring for obtaining a forcible settlement of the China problem by naval power, will ever cease at all.58 Katō then stated that ‘Shidehara Diplomacy’ would not be able to cope with this ‘high pressure stance’ on the part of the United States. Katō stated also that he now regretted that ‘we had played our hand first and left ourselves no scope’. He concluded that he hoped it might be possible to obtain acceptance of Japan’s demands in the preliminary discussions. Shidehara responded by saying that he thought that an agreement on the 70% ratio could be made in the preliminary discussions since the United States and Great Britain had managed to reach agreement in this way. He then added that if Japan could conclude a no-war pact with Australia and New Zealand, this would be all the more advantageous and would cancel out the opposition of the United States and Australia. He then suggested it would be possible to agree on figures of 18:15:12 in heavy cruisers and postpone submarine programmes until 1936 and France would agree to this to.59 It is interesting to note that even at this early stage Shidehara was willing to compromise on heavy cruisers and on submarines. On the former he seems willing, by diplomatic measures i.e. a nowar pact, to accept 18:15:12 in heavy cruisers. This meant that Japan would actually have to accept less than 70% against one power, un-named but in this case certainly the United States. The figure 15 was the British negotiating figure and 18 the figure Britain wished the United States would agree to reduce to. Shidehara appeared to be suggesting that Japan should agree not to complete her submarine programme that was due for completion at the end of fiscal 1931. In mid-November Katō attended Army manoeuvres and had the opportunity to meet Prime Minister Hamaguchi and explain his views on the coming conference.60 He began by providing a detailed account of events at the Washington Conference. He brought the Premier’s attention to the fact that America had refused to accept that Japan’s existing strength had been 70%, that America had refused to consider the principle of national security or autonomously decided national strength, and had dismissed the five different forms of calculations provided by the Japanese side. He then


pointed out that Admiral Hilary Jones had indicated at Washington that it was absolutely necessary for America to reduce the Japanese ratio to 60% or less so that America could bring Japan to its knees over the China problem. Katō then cited Admiral of the Fleet Tōgō’s opinions on the matter and the navy’s elder statesman had said that ‘the future of China is the root of evil in the Far East’ and that: If Japanese strength is not respected then peace in the Far East could not be upheld. Why did America and Britain, at the same time as declaring a no-war treaty and advocating it in the League of Nations, increase fortifications and armaments at Hawaii and Singapore.61 Katō then added that these were his own personal opinions on the reasons behind the compromise on 60% at Washington. Nevertheless, he added, they did reveal America’s real intentions and the navy shared his opinions and was now struggling to make up for deficiencies caused by the imposition of an inferior ratio. He mentioned especially the relentless drilling and night exercises.[62 Katō saw the present time as the calm before the storm and moreover it was the calm of a preparatory period advantageous to the United States. However, more importantly he went on to add: If I am to state my personal opinion it is that even if we have 70% it is insufficient. My reasons for this are that the recent advances in modern vessels and machines have gradually eroded the attrition value of our fleet that was premised on the long distances between west and east. The increased range and activities now possible for enemy ships especially the new 10,000 ton 8’ gun cruiser, have reduced this all the more. We are concerned that we can no longer control the activities of enemy cruisers even with a 70% ratio.63 Katō concluded that these were good reasons for making 70% the absolute minimum since ‘the life and death of our navy depended on it and if it were not achieved one might as well scrap the navy …’ Katō again quoted Tōgō’s words at some length. It is worth bearing in mind that Admiral Tōgō had supported Katō Tomosaburō’s compromise plan at Washington over the 5:5: 3 ratio in capital ships. Katō cited Tōgō as saying: After the agreement on a 60% ratio in capital ships at the Washington Conference I was uneasy but I agreed to it because I understood we could make up the deficiency by increasing the ratio in auxiliary craft. Since then I was relieved that this was what actually happened. But, in


the present case I cannot agree at all to a reduction in the auxiliary craft ratio to less than 70% as well. At the Washington Conference we had less than the United States and Great Britain in ‘existing strength’ and because of that I did not know whether or not we could obtain the principle of parity. Today we surpass Britain and America respectably in cruisers. Despite this we have conceded in a spirit of compromise. Since we have declared a 70% ratio as the absolute minimum we must not budge one step from that. If Great Britain and the United States do not go along with us on this we should leave the conference.64 Katō fully supported Admiral Tōgō in this and added that unlike Washington, where a rupture of the conference would have rebounded to Japan’s disadvantage, the situation was quite different today. By advocating the cessation of construction of capital ships and by reducing the scale of ships e.g. reducing cruisers to 8000 tons, opinion would be on Japan’s side and turn against America. He also pointed out that: America had completely abolished the principle of ‘existing strength’ which they had advanced at Washington and, from a position that does not even exceed half of Great Britain’s strength, now demands parity. For this reason whilst ordering the suspension of British construction, 18 ships as well as 21 of the very latest cruisers are being constructed by them (USA). The reality exposes the huge contradiction in the position the US takes, reflecting its intent of demonstrating its world superiority. This should open the eyes of anyone worried about the responsibility for abolishing the new treaty. 65 Katō’s position here had evidently shifted somewhat. He now no longer appeared satisfied even with a 70% ratio. The theme of the China problem runs through both the above discussions and a number of possible reasons may have been responsible for this. The first is that, in a sense, the China problem had always been the real issue over which ratios had been discussed. This was because America needed a sufficiently superior fleet to cross the Pacific and defeat Japan in its own waters. American naval strategic planning saw this as a necessity if the United States interpretation of the ‘Open Door’ was to be upheld in China. Secondly, in the years 1927–1929, as Commander-in-Chief of the Combined Fleet, Katō had firsthand experience of the growing need for command of the seas off China. This was a period when problems increased there, for both Japan and America as a result of Prime Minister Tanaka’s ‘positive’ China policy. Katō’s view of the


unfairness of the ratio system and his concern with the China problem and the inevitable clash over economic interests there with the United States mirrored views held by many on the right wing of Japanese politics. Katō was close to people such as Hiranuma Kiichirō, Deputy Chairman of the Privy Council and founder of the Kokuhonsha.66 In this latter organisation Katō Kanji was a founder member and Tōgō was an ‘adviser’. Also, Katō increasingly had contacts with Privy Councillor Kaneko Kentarō. For example, his diary records that on 28 November Kaneko sent Katō an article critical of disarmament from the ‘National Review’ and they met the next day for a discussion. Katō, in turn sent Kaneko a book entitled Beikoku Tōyō Shinshitsu Saku (America’s advance policy in the Far East) on 7 December and they met again four days later. On this occasion Katō was gratified that Kaneko’s opinions were in complete agreement with his own.67 Katō was, by now, actively seeking Kaneko’s advice on ‘command’ related matters involved in the coming conference instructions to the delegates. Professor Itō Takashi has pointed out perceptively that the increasing politicization of Katō and Tōgō went against their previous policy of remaining aloof from political activities. He suggested that behind the statements and activities of Katō and Tōgō lurked the influence of two highly political officers, Suetsugu Nobumasa, Vice Chief of the Naval General Staff and Reserve Admiral Count Ogasawara, Tōgō’s secretary.68 Certainly Katō’s diary refers to increased contact with Tōgō via Ogasawara. There is also, for a time pressure from Imperial Prince Admiral Fushimi who, as we shall see later, initially took an extremely hard line on the Three Fundamental Principles’. Navy Minister Takarabe, possibly after urgings from Katō Kanji had attempted to obtain Imperial sanction for the instructions by means of a Gozen Kaigi (Conference in the Imperial Presence) in an attempt to strengthen the position of those in favour of ‘no compromise’ on the Three Principles’. However, this had been blocked by Prince Saionji.69 Katō, at this point was not in contact with Prince Saionji but he did speak to his secretary and he did manage to pass information to palace officials.70 On 27 November, Katō submitted a report to the Throne on command matters relating to the instructions for the Delegates proceeding to London.71 In this document he stated very clearly to the Emperor that the ratio in overall strength necessary for the security of the Empire was to be at least 70% He went on to say that the 70% ratio in heavy cruisers and the existing tonnage in submarines at the end of fiscal 1931 were the most important elements in the instructions. Katō pointed out that it might be necessary to make concessions on light cruisers and destroyers in order to secure Japan’s aims concerning the ‘Three Principles’. Katō’s diary also shows that on 11


December he met the Chief Military Aide-de-camp to the Emperor General Nara and conveyed his sincere wishes and asked him to pass them on to Grand Chamberlain Suzuki Kantarō, Katō’s predecessor as Chief of the Naval General Staff.72 Katō’s official position was clear. It was that, as Chief of the Naval General Staff he fully supported the inviolability of the Three Fundamental Principles’. He does appear to have been willing to compromise to a certain extent on light cruisers and destroyers but as with the other Naval General Staff planners this refers to compromises within the overall ratio of 70% on auxiliaries. As reports of difficulties with the Americans in Tokyo, Washington and London began to reach Katō he clearly became more anxious. Katō was in contact with cabinet members, members of the Imperial Court and Privy Councillors as well as various politicians. He had already intimated to the Prime Minister that even 70% might not be enough and in the days leading up to the conference his resolve on this appeared to harden. Katō’s own thoughts at the time of the preliminary negotiations in London are presented most clearly in correspondence with his friend Sugiyama Akihisa in London. On 9 January, shortly before the conference opened, he wrote: For the sake of young Japanese people retreat and submission are strictly prohibited. The independent spirit of man, no matter how low the position and no matter how reduced the circumstances, is what has made Japan what it is today. It would be better to accept even an inferior strength in proportion to freely decided autonomous national power than a constraint of 70%. In other words rather than have 70% which acknowledges the superiority of Great Britain and America it is better to have a self-determined navy whose size alters according to national power. Therefore, there is some hope that the conference will collapse… For the above reasons please understand that I am making every effort to prevent the delegates from preserving their own honour and dignity at the cost of the nation’s security.73 Thus as the conference was about to begin Katō’s position was that there was only scope for compromise in light cruisers and destroyers. But in fact, he was now prepared to see the conference collapse rather than make any major concession on the ‘Three Fundamental Principles’. This was a position supported by the Naval General Staff, Admiral of the Fleet Tōgō and Admiral Prince Fushimi. At this time the Navy Ministry too, including Navy Minister and Plenipotentiary Takarabe in London supported this position. Yet although everyone appeared to be supporting the Three Principles’ as Japan’s


minimum strength the underlying assumptions were different. For Katō and others, the Japanese demands meant the absolute minimum that Japan would accept. The Cabinet, the Foreign Ministry and the Imperial Court as well as certain Navy Elders and some officers in the Navy Ministry probably saw it as the maximum Japan could achieve. The latter group therefore expected to have to make some concessions. The conference opened on 21 January in London and immediately a series of complex negotiations with America and Great Britain, as well as within the Japanese delegation, took place. These events have been treated in detail elsewhere and space precludes describing them in detail here.74 The discussions in London caused a major political furore in Tokyo, the so-called London Treaty Crisis of 1930. This involved all the major political institutions and at the very centre of the controversy was Katō Kanji. The existing literature has treated the domestic political crisis in great detail mainly from the side of those who fought to save the conference from collapse.75 The chapters that follow will focus on Katō’s struggle first to prevent the original delegate instructions being altered and then to prevent the treaty being signed and ratified. Notes 1 Stephen Roskill, Naval Policy Between the Wars, Vol. 1, (London, 1968), pp. 415– 416 and p. 554. 2 Rengō Kantai (1), pp. 220–221. See also op. cit., Roskill pp. 545–548 3 Kaigun Gunsenbi (1), pp. 350–360, for an outline of the activities of this committee. 4 The best account of the Kellogg Briand Pact from the Japanese side is to be found in Unno Yoshiro, Nihon Gaikōshi 16: Kaigun Gunshuku Kōshō - Fūsen Jōyaku, (Tokyo, 1973), pp. 76–132. 5 Raymond G O’Connor, The ‘Yardstick’ and Naval Disarmament in the 1920s’, Mississippi Valley Historical Review, Vol. 45, (December 1958), p. 88. 6 In English see Asada Sadao, ‘The Imperial Japanese Navy and the Politics of Naval Limitation 1918–1930’, (unpublished paper), pp. 36–41.and also From Washington to London: The Imperial Japanese Navy and the Politics of Naval Limitation 1921–1930. in Eric Goldstein John Maurer (eds) The Washington Conference 1921–22: Naval Rivalry, East Asian Stability and the Road to Pearl Harbor Ilford 1994 pp 147–191. In Japanese see Asada Sadao, ‘Nihon Kaigun to Gunshuku: Taibei Seisaku o meguru Seiji Katei’ in Hosoya Chihiro, Saitō Makoto (eds.), Washington Taisei to Nichibei Kankei, (Tokyo, 1978) pp. 384–389. 7 Richard D Burns and Donald Urquidi, Disarmament in Perspective: An Analysis of Selected Arms Control and Disarmament Agreements Between the World Wars, 1919–1939 Vol 111 Limitation of Sea Power, (Washington DC, 1968), p. 87.


8 Arthur E Tiedeman, The Hamaguchi Cabinet: First Phase July 1929– February 1930 Ph.D., (Columbia University, 1959), provides an excellent background. 9 op. cit., O’Connor, pp. 450–455. 10 ibid., p. 444. 11 ibid., p. 449. 12 I have drawn heavily here on James Crowley, Japan’s Quest for Autonomy: National Security and Foreign Policy, (Princeton, 1966), especially pp. 35ff. But see also op. cit., Burns and Urquidi for the general background; Roskill op. cit., for a British perspective and Raymond G. O’Connor, Perilous Equilibrium: the US and the London Naval Conference 1930 (Kansas, 1962), for an American one. 13 op. cit., Burns and Urquidi, p. 97. 14 ibid., p. 119, and op. cit., Kaigun Gunsenbi (1), pp. 362363, for precise details of Japanese naval vessels circa 1931. 15 However, I would suggest that the real inflexibility was shown by the Americans and indicates clearly that they regarded the whole issue as a political problem rather than a technical/strategic one. 16 op. cit., James Crowley, p. 47. 17 ibid., p. 43. 18 op. cit., Burns and Urquidi p. 91. 19 Ikeda Kiyoshi, ‘Rondon Gunshuku Mondai Nikki Kaisetsu Rondon Jōyaku to Tōsuiken Mondai o chushin ni shite’ in Okada Teikan (ed.), Okada Keisuke Kaikoroku, (Tokyo, 1977) p. 245. 20 ibid., p. 245. 21 op. cit., Asada, (1978), p. 375. 22 Suzuki Kantarō, Suzuki Kantarō Jiden, (Tokyo, 1949), p. 276. 23 op. cit., Kaigun Gunsenbi (1), p. 354. 24 ibid., pp. 363–364. 25 ibid., p. 364. 26 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), pp. 221–222. 27 op. cit., TSM, Vol. 1, p. 58. 28 ibid., p. 58. 29 op. cit., Crowley, p. 59. 30 ibid., p. 38. 31 ibid., p. 40. 32 op. cit., TSM., Vol. 1, p. 59. 33 op. cit., Kaigun Gunsenbi (1), p. 375. 34 ibid., p. 375. 35 The best study in English is Itō Takashi, ‘Conflicts and Coalitions in Japan 1930: Political Groups (and) the London Naval Conference’, in Sven Groennings et al., (eds.) The Study of Coalition Behaviour, (New York, 1970), pp. 160–176. In Japanese see Itō Takashi, Shōowa Shōki Seiiishi Kenkyū, (Tokyo, 1969) especially pp. 389–433 for a detailed analysis of the right wing before, during and after the Treaty was signed. 36 Tatsuji Takeuchi, War and Diplomacy in the Japanese Empire, (Chicago, 1935), p. 284 for a list of those attending. 37 op. cit., Crowley, p. 44. 38 For a succinct analysis of the fiscal problems and fiscal strategies of the Hamaguchi Cabinet see op. cit., Tiedemann.


39 A good overview of the British position prior to the conference is to be found in op. cit., Roskill, pp. 37–57. 40 op. cit., Crowley, p. 44. 41 ibid., p. 44. 42 op. cit., Kaigun Gunsenbi (1), p. 375. 43 ibid., pp. 378–379. 44 According to op. cit., Crowley, p. 43, the Salt Lake City, was the United States only post-1922 (treaty) cruiser of 10,000 tons and 8 inch guns actually completed at this time. 45 ibid., p. 45. 46 For the army and the London Naval Conference see Segawa Zen, ‘1930-nen Rondon Kaigun Gunshuku Kaigi Kaisai to Nihon Rikugun’, Saitama Daigaku Kiyō, (Shakai Kagaku), (1965), pp. 1–9, and his ‘Tōsuiken Kanpan Ronsō no Tenkai to Sanbō Honbu’, Nihon Rekishi, No. 376, (September 1979), pp. 68–84. 47 Thomas F Mayer-Oakes (ed. and tr.) Fragile Victory: Saionji-Harada Memoirs, (Detroit, 1968), p. 145. 48 For a brief discussion of the significance of the Japanese tonnage figures and their relationship with strategy see op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 223. 49 op. cit., Kaigun Gunsenbi (1), p. 376, cites Katō’s report to the throne prior to the despatch of the delegation. 50 Admiral Okada Keisuke recorded that it was only after Katō Kanji had succeeded him as Commander-in-Chief that the incumbent of the post came to be ‘lionised’ by the Fleet op. cit., Okada Teikan, p. 31. 51 op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1969), p. 142. 52 Aoki Tokuzō, Taiheiyō Sensō Zenshi, 6 Vols (Tokyo, 1946), Vol. 1, p. 6. 53 Tsutomu David Yamamoto The Japanese Press and Japanese Foreign Policy 1927–1933, Ph.D., (London University, SOAS). 54 Itō Takashi interestingly sees Katō Kanji as the idealist insofar as arms control and disarmament are concerned op. cit. Itō Takashi, (1969), p. 137. 55 ibid., p. 142. He continued to keep Prince Saionji informed after September 1929, op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 138. 56 For naval propaganda efforts at this time see op. cit., Takeuchi Tatsuji, pp. 303– 305; op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1969), pp. 435–446, is a succinct appraisal of press and public opinion at this time but see also op. cit., Yamamoto, pp. 76ff. 57 Katō Hirokazu/Kanji (ed.), Shōwa 4-nen Rondon Kaigun Jōyaku Hiroku ko-Katō Kanji Taisho Ikō (Tokyo, 1956). A complete printed version is to be found in Sakai Keinan, Eiketsu Katō Kanii, (Tokyo, 1979), pp. 149–208, especially pp. 142–145. Figures in parentheses after Katō Kanji Nikki indicate pages in Sakai’s book. 58 ibid., p. 143. 59 ibid., p. 145. 60 ibid., p. 145. 61 ibid., p. 147. 62 ibid., p. 148. 63 ibid., p. 148. 64 ibid., p. 149. 65 ibid., p. 150. 66 Katō was a founder member of the Kokuhonsha, see Richard Storry, The Double Patriots, (London 1957), p. 311. This is not quite the same as ‘a leading member’


67 68 69 70

71

72 73 74 75

which is how Asada sees him: Asada Sadao, The Japanese Navy and the United States’, in D Borg and S Okamoto (eds.), Pearl Harbor as History: JapaneseAmerican relations 1931–1941, (New York, 1971), p. 234. Asada provides no evidence for this assumption and Katō’s diaries do not mention him attending this organisation’s meetings. Moreover, Asada conveniently omits the fact that his ‘hero’ Katō Tomosaburō was also a founder member. Katō Kanji Nikki, 11/12/29, (p. 151). op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1969), p. 139. op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 145. According to Katō’s diaries Katō was visited by the Lord Privy Seal’s secretary and the Chief Military Aide-de-Camp and he also met the Lord Keeper and the Grand Chamberlain socially at this time. op. cit., Kaigun Gunsenbi (1), pp. 376–377 for extracts from this report. Prime Minister Hamaguchi, significantly, did not follow this procedure when the instructions were later revised. Katō Kanji Nikki, 11/12/30, (p. 151). KKD, pp. 889–890. See particularly op. cit. Unno, pp. 133–262, on diplomatic aspects and op. cit., Asada, (1978) pp. 384–400, for naval aspects. See especially op. cit., Itō Takashi (1969), for a remarkably detailed and fascinating account of domestic developments in Japanese. In English see op. cit., MayerOakes and op. cit., Takeuchi.

CHAPTER 7 Katō’s Opposes the ‘American Compromise’

Following the opening of the London Conference on 21 January 1930, there was growing concern in Tokyo over the difficulties being encountered in negotiations, especially between the Japanese and American delegations in London. There was also evidence of a major split within the Japanese delegation between the diplomats and the naval specialists.1 The naval specialists adhered very strictly to the ‘Three Principles’ and were opposed to any ‘political’ or ‘diplomatic’ solution to cope with the problem of American intransigence. Not surprisingly, since there were a variety of communication channels from London to Tokyo, both official and unofficial, the naval leaders in Tokyo were in touch with developments there. Nevertheless, the decision by the civilian delegates at London, to proceed with negotiations without full discussion with the navy specialists and even without the full knowledge of Plenipotentiary Takarabe, were a clear intimation of the determination of the civilians to reach an agreement. The exclusion of navy men in London from the decision-making process relating to an AmericanJapanese compromise, meant that the only information filtering through to the Navy in Tokyo was rather negative in character. This simply increased the speculation and fears of naval officers in Tokyo who were becoming more anxious lest the ‘Three Principles’ be the problems even for navy moderates who would have preferred that Japan’s ‘minimum’ conditions at London be met in full. But for Katō Kanji, who had come to believe that even the fulfilment of the Three Principles’ was inadequate, intelligence from London indicated that even these minimum demands would not be met. This clearly caused him very great concern that he believed necessitated prompt action. On 29 January 1930, Katō sent a written opinion on disarmament to Count Makino, the Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal. He explained the American intransigence on the ratio issue as follows:


For America the most important matters are the Monroe Doctrine and the Open Door Policy in China. But although only a defensive navy is necessary in order to preserve the Monroe Doctrine an offensive navy is necessary for an Open Door policy in China. This has been the reality of American strategic planning for some years now. They must have sufficient superiority in order to plan an attack across the Pacific and since our calculations are based on 5:5 for success they in turn must have 5:3. Since the United States have decided to impose 60% on us from the outset we must assert 70% all the more. In short, for them disarmament is a kind of peacetime strategy. They, by having 60% achieve the reality of defeating us without war and we by possessing 70% protect the seas around us and avoid the dangers of inducing a war…2 Katō recorded on 5 February that Stimson’s plan, which had been leaked to the press corps in London:‘…rejects the 70% demand of Japan and stands on 60%. As might be expected this will excite public opinion at home’.3 That same day he sent a letter to his old friend Abo Kiyokazu, Chief Naval Adviser to the Plenipotentiaries in London saying: I received your letter of 10 January. Thank you very much for letting me know precisely the recent situation there (in London). Amongst knowledgeable people outside the service such as scholars, businessmen neutral politicians, the Privy Council etc. the numbers of those whose attitude to the conference is that it would be better if it collapsed, are increasing. They think that Plenipotentiary Wakatsuki and the like have made clear our righteous and just assertions but have their backs to the wall. If after having done all this they make some compromise it will mean they have f failed the American test. Then America increasingly will hold Japan in contempt and on such matters as the Manchurian problem they will adopt a high pressure stance. Therefore it is now understood (by these people in Japan) to be a problem not only for the navy but for our national dignity and honour. If the conference should rupture over Japan’s assertion, which after all is only a matter of 10%, being unacceptable, then not only will the sympathy of the world gather around Japan but also America will fall into an impossible predicament whereby she will be unable to expand her navy afterwards without being shamed by the Kellogg-Briand Pact. Even if America were to build a ‘top fleet’, no matter how many times greater than that of Japan, the country which will fear the threat of such

206 KATŌ OPPOSES THE ‘AMERICAN COMPROMISE’

a large American navy will be Great Britain rather than Japan. The consequence of that will be closer relations between Japan and Great Britain and America will become a second Germany. If Japan refuses to budge one step from her just assertions, if Japan disrupts the conference and adopts an attitude of condemning America for infringement of the spirit of the Kellog Pact then the American puritan faction and peace party will admire the character of Japan and will wish to act in concert with us and keep their imperialists in check. One opinion heard here is that such an eventuality, as the collapse of the conference may look bad but in some ways will turn out for the best. (This is verified by Castle’s address enclosed). The number of people who believe that a compromise will be completely useless to Japan is increasing. However the Government is adopting a ‘wait and see’ attitude and is absorbed in the election. Firm resolution on their part is not to be seen and their attitude of ingratiating themselves with the people is transparently obvious. But I am in no doubt that if the number of telegrams from London, pointing out the coercion by Britain and America, increases then the government attitude will become more firm and be led by ‘public opinion’. Please filter the above domestic political situation to the appropriate people. I sincerely hope and pray that, for the sake of the Navy’s next 100 years, you and I, although only two in number, who have been recipients of the navy’s benefice for the last 40 odd years since cadet days, will do our utmost to discharge our responsibilities.4 On 8 February, Katō recorded that the Seiyūkai politician Kumazaki Ryōji and others were running about agitating against this ‘Stimson proposal’ and sent a telegram to the Naval Adviser Sakonji in London warning him of Ambassador Castle’s efforts in softening up the Foreign Ministry and Press in Tokyo’. He informed Sakonji of the thinking and serious concern of the Naval General Staff over this blatant refusal by the United States to accept the Three Principles’.5 Then on 12 February, in a second letter to Abo, Katō again expressed his innermost thoughts.6 He began by telling Abo that he had been interviewed by a Mr Lamont from Associated Press regarding his personal opinion on the navy’s position. He said that this was not reported in the papers due to it being unpalatable to Great Britain and the United States but that since Castle knew indirectly he had probably sent telegrams on this. Regarding the Stimson proposal, which had been leaked to the press in London in the first week of February, Katō had this to say:


Stimson’s proposal is understood here to be something which spits in the face of Japan. The Government and the whole nation are angry and even if America raised the ratio and attempts to achieve a compromise somewhere in-between it looks like she is treating Japan as if she were a trader selling his wares on the highway and the insult is all the worse because of this. Since America, in regard for her dignity should not be allowed to engage in such undignified negotiation, her negotiation with Japan has now become a struggle to protect the honour of both countries with an absolute value of six or seven. This being the case Stimson’s proposal has rendered hopeless a conclusion of the auxiliary ship issue. It is now publicly debated in this way in Japan. Ambassador Castle having been told this by some Japanese friends told them: ‘Truly, Yes, America will never budge from 60%, this being the belief of the American people’. The situation is such that the collapse of the conference will be most beneficial for Japan. I suggest that a firmer attitude is necessary. The above-mentioned matters should be understood only by you. Based on this understanding please guide others appropriately.7 Then, on 16 February, Katō allowed the Seiyūkai politician Kumazaki to pass a telegram carrying Katō’s name to Mr Lamont of the Associated Press. It contained a firm rebuttal of the Americans for refusing to accept 70%. Katō noted that when he informed Deputy Navy Minister Yamanashi of this, the latter was very shocked at Katō’s actions. However Lamont did not use the telegram much to Katō’s annoyance. Katō was increasingly concerned over the attitudes of American negotiators in London and of Ambassador Castle in Tokyo who was receiving support from the British. Katō’s anxiety over their refusal to concede 70% and insist on a compromise must have been greatly intensified by information he received from Privy Councillor Kaneko Kentaro. According to Kaneko, Ambassador Castle had apparently told Shidehara that Admiral Pratt, Chief of Strategic Planning for the United States Navy had stated at a military conference that: …if they permitted 70% in naval strength to the Japanese Navy an air attack on Tokyo by the United States Navy became impossible.8 Whether true or not, this information was, for Katō, confirmation of the ulterior motives connected with American naval desires for the 70% and this must have confirmed his worst fears.


For the remainder of February, Japan’s civilian delegates were involved in secret negotiations trying to achieve a compromise and save the conference from collapse. Telegrams from the naval team in London simply increased the tension within the naval leadership in Tokyo but no further major developments occurred. On 4 March Katō wrote that Deputy Navy Minister Yamanashi Katsunoshin, had stage-managed an initiative towards compromise within the navy by persuading Admiral Saitō Makoto, Governor General of Korea and Privy Councillor Ishii Kikujirō, former plenipotentiaries at Geneva in 1927, to speak to a gathering of senior staff officers of the Navy Ministry and the Naval General Staff. At this meeting Admiral Saitō had stated that the 70% assertion was meaningless and this ‘caused despair to the gathered Ministry/ Staff officers’.9 Then, on 10 March Katō noted, ‘A report has come that plenipotentiary Wakatsuki has given it up as hopeless’.10 Katō immediately convened a meeting of his most trusted subordinates in the Naval General Staff, Vice-Chief Suetsugu Nobumasa and Katō Takayoshi, Chief of the Operations Department. On 12 March Wakatsuki cabled the Foreign Office stating that there was no expectation of success in negotiations.11 Then, on 15 March a telegram, containing a compromise proposal within a ‘request for instructions’, reached government authorities in Tokyo. This was to be known as the ‘Reed-Matsudaira Plan’ or ‘American Plan’ and it indicated that Katō and his allies had failed to prevent the delegation in London from opting for a compromise solution rather than rupturing the conference.12 The centre of the debate now shifted back to Tokyo as Katō and the Naval General Staff initiated determined efforts to prevent the government accepting such a compromise. KATŌ AND THE ‘AMERICAN’ PLAN The telegram from London containing the compromise proposals sparked off a major struggle. On one side was the Naval General Staff and its supporters who were determined to leave the conference rather than compromise. On the other side was a pro-treaty government and its supporters determined to conclude a treaty at all costs. The result was a series of events that threatened to paralyse government operations in Japan, end the life of the Hamaguchi Cabinet and damage the advance towards constitutional government and party politics. At the very centre of the political storm was Katō Kanji. His struggle to reject the thinking contained in this telegram and prevent the signing and ratification of a treaty involved him with all the principle political and bureaucratic bodies that were in any way connected with the London


Treaty. These events were to have a grave impact on his future naval and political career. At 10.00 am on 15 March, telegram 20B from London arrived at the Foreign Ministry in Tokyo, bearing the names of all four Japanese Plenipotentiaries.13 It was a request for instructions, or to be more precise, a request to the Tokyo authorities to consider amending the original instructions. The communication contained a compromise plan worked out between the American and Japanese civilian delegates. It came to be known as the ‘Reed-Matsudaira plan’ or ‘American-Japanese compromise plan’ by pro-treaty forces and the ‘American plan’ by staunch supporters of the ‘Three Principles’. This telegram and the responses of the government and the navy sparked off a series of political crises, within the navy and within the domestic Japanese political arena, which, although effectively resolved after around six months when the treaty was eventually ratified, were to have farreaching effects on Japanese domestic and international politics. The proposal, mainly the work of the Americans, represented the results of a complex series of intensive negotiating sessions. Basically, it presented a series of figures which offered Japan 69.75% in overall tonnage, 60.2% in heavy cruisers (66% if one calculates according to number of ships), and 100% or parity in submarines at 52,700 tons. Moreover, it was proposed that America would delay and stagger construction of her last three heavy cruisers so that Japan’s ratio in that class would not drop below 70% before 1936 (68%). Since a new conference was expected to open in 1935 this gave Japan a ‘de facto’ 70% during the period of the treaty. The telegram suggested that this proposal was evidence of America’s recognition of Japan’s demands for 70%.14 Treaty supporters, especially Foreign Minister Shidehara and his staff and Prime Minister Hamaguchi, generally accepted that this proposal gave Japan almost all her demands. Wakatsuki had also made it clear that there was no chance of getting any improvements on this and that any further push by Japan would endanger the success of the conference. Shidehara and Hamaguchi were certainly convinced that this was the case. They therefore regarded the proposal from London as a final offer, not a new negotiating position. However, whilst it appeared in many respects to be a reasonable compromise, it did fail to achieve in full any of the Three Principles’. In particular, the agreement was ‘flawed’ in two major areas, the heavy cruiser ratio and the total tonnage for submarines. For the navy these rather than the overall ratio were the key elements. The original naval proposals had indicated that, within this overall ratio, there could be flexibility and even sacrifices regarding light cruisers and destroyers. These were the very areas


where the Reed-Matsudaira plan permitted 70%. Japanese naval planners had consistently stated that there could be no flexibility on submarines and heavy cruisers. Regarding submarines the fact that Japan could have ‘parity’ was in fact meaningless, since Japan had sought neither parity nor seventy per cent in this class. She had sought autonomy in submarines as she regarded these ships as ‘essential to a weaker power’ and had stipulated her existing strength (at end of fiscal 1931) as her absolute minimum. This offer of 100% in submarines at a greatly reduced level, in effect a reduction from 78,000 to 52, 700 tons, played havoc with Japan’s underwater strategic planning and did not permit Japan to construct another vessel in this class during the life of the treaty. Regarding heavy (treaty) cruisers Japan had eight completed and four almost completed whilst America had one completed, twelve building and five authorised. On the basis of ‘existing strength’ as worked out by the Americans at Washington, this meant thirteen for America and twelve for Japan. For many people in Japan, such figures indicated that for America to refuse Japan a ‘defensive’ 70% ratio, given Japan’s existing position was at best suspect and at worst grossly unfair. Japan was also being asked to virtually stand still in areas of rapid technological change whilst America was building a new fleet incorporating the latest technological advances. Thus a major struggle over whether or not to accept the compromise arrived at in London commenced. At 1.30 pm on 15 March, Foreign Minister Shidehara handed the telegram to the Prime Minister and at 5.00 pm. Hamaguchi handed a copy to Deputy Navy Minister Yamanashi and ordered the Navy to study it.15 Yamanashi then telephoned and sent a telegram to Military Councillor Admiral Okada Keisuke, urging him to return to Tokyo at once. The Deputy Navy Minister then convened a meeting of top level Ministry and Naval General Staff officers and brought with him the copy of the telegram. Present at this meeting were many of the officers involved in the ensuing internal naval struggle over the compromise plan.16 These officers were already expecting such a telegram and had met already that day. Admiral Abo had apparently sent a message to Katō Kanji from London on 14 March that such a telegram was imminent. Abo had given his estimation of the contents of the telegram from the plenipotentiaries and this proved quite accurate. Abo’s telegram had also stated that, in the event of the collapse of a five nation treaty, a three nation treaty would not improve Japan’s situation. Abo concluded that the civilians in London now appeared to be making policy and that ‘the situation is f fairly serious and understanding this please study this with great care’.17 At this earlier meeting Kobayashi Seizō had suggested that they ought to consider making some


concessions. This was vehemently opposed by Vice Chief of the Naval General Staff Suetsugu and a Captain Ando. Katō Kanji ended the heated discussion by saying, firmly, ‘I expect that there will be an important telegram again today. We will decide our policy in accordance with that telegram’.18 Katō recorded in his diary: Wakatsuki’s final request for instructions has finally come. 60% in heavy cruisers, 52,000 tons in submarines. I called a conference in my room of top Navy Ministry/ Staff officers on this today. Unexpectedly Yamanashi, offering a pretext, did not join in the detailed discussions. A rumoured report of naval concessions from the Foreign Ministry’s Information Bureau suddenly appeared in the papers.19 Then the real struggle, over whether or not to accept the compromise proposal from London, commenced in earnest. It was already clear that Yamanashi was distancing himself somewhat from the Naval General Staff, avoiding committing himself to their intransigent position and enlisting the help of navy elders such as Saitō Makoto and Okada Keisuke. The Naval General Staff also withheld Abo’s telegram from London from the Navy Ministry and it did not reach the latter until August 1930.20 Moreover, ViceChief Suetsugu was demanding to see telegrams in Yamanashi’s possession. At this time the navy was still outwardly united but an internal split was developing. Moreover Katō’s diary entry shows that the Foreign Ministry were utilising the press to enhance public acceptability of a compromise. The Foreign Ministry’s tactical assault, via the press, against the navy ‘hardliners’ position was as follows: Wouldn’t it be best for the conference to settle the issues even if the 70% were reduced somewhat. At a conference you always deal with an opposite number, and you must first make some mutual concessions in order to come to an agreement.21 This naturally incensed Katō and others of like mind and confirmed their worst fears. They now suspected that Premier Hamaguchi and Foreign Minister Shidehara would make concessions and even sacrifice the principles embodied in the original instructions. Katō and his supporters clearly believed that the Three Principles’ was their minimum demand and regarded the compromise proposal as a negotiating ploy. The Prime Minister and the Foreign Minister obviously regarded the Three Principles’ as the maximum Japan could achieve and the compromise plan as the final offer. The major


question now was who had the power to decide and who would advise or arbitrate among competing authorities. The leading American historian of the London Conference has stated: The size and composition of the armed forces constitute a political problem that rests with the government, not an exclusively technical problem to be decided by the professional expert.22 Unfortunately, in pre-war Japan, such matters were not susceptible to so simple an analysis. Perhaps at this time the institutional framework, in which debate and decision-making had to take place, would help clarify matters. This will also be an aid to understanding the polarisation of personnel in Tokyo. Regarding the latter a major split emerged, partially along organisational lines, between those prepared to compromise, the so-called Jōyaku-ha (Treaty Faction) and those determined to hold firm even at the expense of the conference failing, the so-called Kantai-ha. (Fleet Faction).23 Under the Meiji Constitution all power resided in the Emperor but, in practice, at this time the Emperor operated in many respects like a constitutional monarch. In other words he acted on the advice of his constitutional advisers and extra-constitutional bodies such a Genrō (Prince Saionji) and the Privy Council as well as senior Imperial Household officials. Constitutionally the imperial prerogative on treaty-making was exercised by the Emperor on the advice of his cabinet ministers. Since treaty matters involved dealings with foreign states the Foreign Ministry had a major role in negotiating and drafting such treaties. The role of the Cabinet and the Foreign Ministry in this area had been, to some extent, reduced by the creation of the Advisory Council on Foreign Affairs and the latter body had in fact taken an active role in the negotiations, conclusion and ratification of the Washington Treaties. It was abolished in 1922 thus seemingly leaving the power almost exclusively with the cabinet. Minobe Tatsukichi, whose constitutional interpretations provided much of the theoretical underpinnings of the government’s pro-treaty forces: … asserted it appertained exclusively to the political organs (i.e. the cabinet) to assume full responsibility for exercising the imperial prerogative to conclude treaties.24 But negotiations on this particular treaty involved decisions relating to (naval) armaments. Such a treaty would directly affect the size i.e. amount of strength of the navy. This ‘strength’ fell under the Emperor’s Imperial


prerogative of henseiken/gunsei (military administration) under Article 12 of the constitution. This was by tradition, exercised on behalf of the Emperor, by the Navy Minister but who was to exercise it at this time? Was it the Navy Minister, Takarabe now in London or the Prime Minister in his dual capacity as Navy Minister pro-tem? Whichever of these two actually had the power to advise, the Navy Ministry acted as if it was the naval body ultimately responsible (within the Navy) for advising the Emperor until the instructions were revised on 1 April 1930. Two other military bodies were empowered to advise the Emperor on matters relating to military affairs. These were the Gensuifu (Board of Fleet Admirals and Field Marshalls) and the Gunjisangikan kaigi (Supreme or High Military Council). The former, although seldom asked to perform anything other than honorific functions, had been involved in the ratification of the Washington Treaties. But since the London Treaty issue only concerned the Navy and moreover since there was now only one navy gensui, Admiral of the Fleet Togo (who was implacably opposed to any compromise on the ‘Three Fundamental Principles’), it seemed unlikely that an Imperial Inquiry would be passed to this body regarding revision of the original instructions. The more important of the two bodies in practice, and certainly during the London Treaty deliberations, was the Supreme Military Council (both in unofficial gatherings and official meetings) often described as the highest military advisory body to the Emperor on military affairs. On this body sat the gensui, the service ministers, the respective Chiefs of Staff as well as other flag rank officers appointed by the Emperor. This organisation’s regulations permitted naval officers alone to meet on navy matters and since Tōgō was automatically a member as well as being Chairman (the senior officer) it was in effect a combination of the Board and the Supreme Military Council. This explains repeated references in the literature to a gensuisangikan kaigi. Katō believed this to be an appropriate body to sit in judgement on ‘revised instructions’ and advocated its convening on a number of occasions before and after signing of the treaty and before ratification. This body convened formally only in response to an imperial inquiry from the Emperor. Whenever such a possibility arose, there were always ‘unofficial meetings prior to the proper meeting (kaigi) these are perhaps best translated as ‘gatherings’. There were still further complications in that the fixing of precise ship tonnages and ratios by a treaty strictly controlled and limited the number and variety of ships that Japan could put to sea. This naturally had a major impact on naval strategy and the revised (1923) Imperial National Defence Plans especially the ‘Requisite Strength for National Defence’ and the


‘Outline of Strategy for National Defence’. In addition it affected the ‘Annual Fiscal Strategic Plans’. All of these were principal duties of the respective Army and Naval General Staffs, individually in the case of their own services and collectively in the case of overall strategy. Such matters belonged to the imperial prerogative of tōsui taiken/gunrei (Military Command) under Article 11 of the constitution and advice was given by the General Staffs. There was considerable debate as to whether, in the navy’s case, the Navy Minister traditionally had rights under Article 11 as well as Article 12 of the constitution.25 Such an interpretation was favoured by the pro-treaty forces in Japan at this time but there were clearly other, conflicting, interpretations. Those opposed to such an interpretation could also cite constitutional ‘chapter and verse’ in support of their own case. In Japan a matter such as a naval arms limitation treaty was not really susceptible to any simple, straightforward interpretation. The ultimate power lay with the Emperor but his advisers seldom permitted the Imperial Institution to be directly involved in political debates of this kind. As noted previously Admirals Okada Keisuke, Saitō Makoto and Grand Chamberlain Suzuki Kantarō, all navy elders, had frequently tried to moderate the hard-line posture of Katō and his subordinates in the Naval General Staff and elsewhere in the navy. These three men, all noted for their political experience, flexibility and ambition were part of the grand strategy adopted by Hamaguchi and the Genrō Prince Saionji in pursuit of a successful conference. Prince Saionji in particular had ensured that those surrounding the throne, namely the Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal Makino and Grand Chamberlain Suzuki, were active in support of accepting the compromise.26 Within the navy itself, Kobayashi Seizō, Hori Teikichi and Nomura Kichisaburō all assisted moderate, mild mannered Yamanashi in pursuit of a solution acceptable to the navy, the government and the Americans. At this early stage, however, navy moderates were still attempting to pursue an appropriate means of achieving most of the ‘Three Principles’. This configuration of forces came to be known as the Jōyakuha (Treaty Faction). Katō and others of like mind, who were determined to secede from the conference over failure to achieve the ‘Three Principles’, had to contend with this truly formidable array of forces. Admiral of the Fleet Tōgō and Admiral Prince Fushimi, both Supreme Military Council members, were completely behind Katō and Privy Councillors Hiranuma and Kaneko Kentaro in particular were also key supporters. The naval officers here however, were primarily concerned with the ‘Three Principles’ whereas Katō’s civilian


supporters, right wing elements in the Privy Council and the Seiyūkai were rather more concerned with ending Shidehara’s softline approach in China or, and in some ways it was the same thing, bringing down the Minseitō cabinet. On 16 March, Admiral Okada arrived back in Tokyo. Undoubtedly this was welcome news for Deputy Navy Minister Yamanashi, since he was clearly having great difficulty keeping Katō and his group in check let alone persuading them to adopt a more conciliatory attitude. Okada, a member of the Supreme Military Council, had been Navy Minister in the previous government and had dealt briefly with Katō when the latter was first appointed to his present position. They had been successive Commanders-inChief of the Combined Fleet and both came from the same village in Fukui. Okada was already known to be strongly in favour of obtaining an agreement at London and he was also determined to try and avoid a head-on collision between the navy and the government. Thus, in the absence of Navy Minister Takarabe, he was clearly a great asset to Yamanashi, the cabinet and Prince Saionji. Katō visited Rear-Admiral Kobayashi Seizō, at the latter’s office on 16 March and spoke of Kobayashi’s comments in the previous day’s meeting concerning the need to compromise. He told Kobayashi: Your opinion is reasonable and if it had been said at the beginning that would have been alright. But we cannot make any changes now. There will be no problem. If we stick firmly to our original assertions, then they will be accepted. Please do not express your opinions for a while.27 Kobayashi reassured Katō that his opinions had been for internal research purposes only and Katō then left. Katō then visited Okada who recorded the meeting thus: 4.00 pm. Katō came. He said concerning the request for instructions from the plenipotentiaries, we can try and make up for the 60,000 tons in submarines by aircraft. Even so the Kansei Honbu will have difficulty in maintaining its ship construction skills and it also presents difficulties from the deployment aspect. I am not sure yet but it may have to be as it is in the instructions. It is difficult to compromise on 8’ cruisers and submarines and we must push once more. I (Okada) too agreed with this.28


In these discussions with two key figures in the pro-treaty camp, Kobayashi and Okada, Katō does not appear, or at least wishes not to appear to be, rigidly inflexible at this time. Katō next paid a visit to Admiral Tōgō and afterwards wrote a detailed memorandum on the discussion. Tōgō stated his opinions as follows: In short, on this matter of 70%, if we are taking the attitude that if they (our demands) are not satisfied then national security is endangered, such a negotiation over 1 or 2% is meaningless. If our assertions are not accepted there is nothing but to firmly (resolve to) leave. Tell Hamaguchi and Shidehara this is my firm wish. What are Shidehara’s inner thoughts? Civilian officials in general are prone not to worry about long term matters but are likely to settle loosely for short term immediate concerns.29 Katō wrote in red on this document: Transmitted this to them. Even if our assertions are not accepted and even though it ends in non-agreement I think it must be a good thing for the country.30 A number of writers including contemporaries such as Harada and Hamaguchi have noted how Katō appeared more moderate in the absence of Suetsugu and more hard-line on the latter’s return. Suetsugu’s influence on Katō, considerable as it was, did not begin to compare with that of Admiral of the Fleet Tōgō’s influence on him. Thus Tōgō’s words must have greatly bolstered Katō’s resolve to fight on against the ‘American plan’ even at the risk of rupturing the conference and persuaded him away from a more conciliatory approach. Finally, on that day Katō noted Saitō (Makoto’s) weak argument appears in the paper. It is greatly damaging.31 Admiral Saito was by now openly supporting concessions over the ratios and acceptance of the ‘Japanese-American Compromise plan’. Already, in the 48 hours since the arrival of the telegram from London, the opposing battlelines were forming for all to see. On 17 March Katō’s Vice-Chief Suetsugu sparked off a considerable furore in Japan and abroad by releasing to the press the socalled ‘Admiralty Statement’.32 He had given it personally to the Rengo News Agency and The Times reported it on 18 and 19 March. In brief the ‘statement’ indicated that Japan was still adhering to two of the three original demands, namely the 70% ratio in heavy cruisers and the 78,000 tons in submarines. Suetsugu’s


statement was issued without the knowledge of the Navy Ministry and Cabinet much less their approval and greatly angered Prime Minister Hamaguchi who personally reprimanded him and later ordered Katō to discipline him.33 It is not clear whether Suetsugu was acting on the instructions of Katō although, since Katō had ‘shocked’ Yamanashi in permitting his opinions to be passed to a news agency earlier, it does seem unlikely. It is possible that Katō had prior knowledge but, in fact, as Takeuchi indicates, Suetsugu appears to have been the Naval General Staff representative in navy meetings with the press prior to the opening of the London Conference.34 It seems quite feasible that Suetsugu was acting entirely on his own and had disregarded the normal established method of passing everything through the Navy Ministry. Whether Katō knew of it or not, it did reflect accurately the Naval General Staff position. The Prime Minister and others of like mind perceived it as part of a Naval General Staff offensive against the compromise plan. British and American embassy staff in Tokyo were quick to assign significance to the fact that the ‘statement’ referred to an ‘American plan’.35 However, Harada Kumao perceptively noted that it was a response to the initiative taken by the Foreign Ministry’s Information Bureau on 15 March. He noted: In effect, then, the navy’s statement was a riposte to the foreign ministry; and in part there was direct allusion to these remarks: ‘at this time of grave crisis for such a statement to be made, for so plaintive a plea to be heard is bad enough. From the foreign ministry, it is utterly inexcusable, impudent and imprudent’.36 These were strong words indeed and, whatever the provocation, Hamaguchi was very angry indeed with Suetsugu. On the same day Katō wired Takarabe in London that the compromize plan was an: … attempt to recognize Japan’s overall 70% ratio vis-à-vis America by a crafty policy which tries to deny Japan’s fundamental demands on heavy cruisers and submarines. As to its content, it still tries to impose their demands on us. It is recognised that there can be no scope at all for consideration (of the ReedMatsudaira plan).37 To make the point even more forcefully Katō also included a report of his meeting the previous day with Tōgō. He especially emphasized Tōgō’s dissatisfaction with the conciliatory attitude of the Foreign Ministry.


During all of this, Yamanashi was involved in extensive discussions with Okada over the request for instructions from London. Yamanashi asked Okada’s advice on how to proceed and Okada replied: In a case where there is no other alternative, we have, in the final analysis, no other course than to swallow it whole. Moreover, if the naval strength possessed is to be at this level there would always be some way to carry out national defence effectively. We must not cause the conference to collapse but we must push again at least once or twice more. Also I feel that at this time we need to ask, by telegram, for the opinion of the Navy Minister.38 At this point Okada clearly belongs to the group who wished to avoid the failure of the conference. But he does not yet appear to have accepted the compromise plan from London as the final proposal. On the other hand Hamaguchi, Shidehara and the civilian delegates in London saw no scope for further negotiation. At this time no one was sure of what the Navy Minister in London was thinking. It was not yet widely known that Takarabe was unhappy with the proposals but it was known that he had not been kept fully advised on negotiations by his civilian co-plenipotentiaries. Yet his name was on the Wakatsuki cable from London, despite his misgivings which emerged later. On 19 March Katō noted in his diary: Naval General Staff resentment has reaching an extreme and we quickly prepared a rebuttal (to the compromise plan). I requested an interview with Hamaguchi. I told him that as the person responsible for strategic or operational planning of national defence I could not agree to accept the American plan at all.39 Aoki, working from official (cabinet) papers stated Katō’s comments to Hamaguchi when they met on 19 March a little differently: In investigating the amount of strength in the American proposal, as the person responsible for strategic plans for national defence, it is impossible for me to compromise my position unless they offer some other improved conditions for our national security.40 Hamaguchi’s diary, however, seems rather closer to the Katō version namely:


On the request of Katō Kanji, Chief of the Naval General Staff, I met him at my official residence. I listened to his opinion on the request for instructions. He holds the opinion that we should maintain the ‘Three Principles’. Exceedingly unbending, promised to meet again.41 In the Aoki version Katō seems to offer (or appear to offer) hope of a compromise if the American’s would alter some of the conditions. This is possibly correct and ‘unbending’ in the Hamaguchi diary therefore applies to ‘standing firm’ and ‘pushing again’ for an improved offer. Hamaguchi was, of course, very loathe to do this or to be more correct had no intention of permitting this. Alternatively it may reflect Aoki’s use of Hamaguchi’s notes, prepared at a later date, for the Diet and Privy Council where he was to argue that Katō had not been in disagreement. Around this time Harada noted Katō’s comment that ‘the present American compromise plan offers us crumbs and tells us to like them. This is extremely high handed’.42 Katō then related to Harada his conversation with the German Ambassador Ernst A Voretzsch. The German had passed on information that the French Ambassador had heard something interesting from the United States Naval Attaché. It was that before the conference America had regarded Japan’s claims as ‘simply bluster’ …but now since both (y)our public opinion and the navy are quite unyielding it (America) has become more troubled. If this is so, and if you pushed your demands a little further you might get surprisingly good results.43 Katō was obviously much pleased with this conversation and Harada, in a rather disparaging way, alluded to the ‘simple’ nature of Katō in being taken in by this and subsequently inviting the German Ambassador to dinner. Katō, of course had repeatedly emphasized the need to have public opinion behind the Japanese team and unity at home, a lesson he felt should have been learned at Washington. Meanwhile, on 19 March, Katō ordered his staff to prepare a counterproposal. This Naval General Staff position paper was passed to Hori at the Navy Ministry on 20 March.44 Yamanashi, at 8.30 am that same day, had been meeting with Okada. He informed Okada that Shidehara did not wish Yamanashi to sound out Takarabe for his views. He added that there was a considerable gap between the Chief of the Naval General Staff and the Foreign Minister and urged Okada to speak confidentially to Shidehara and


Okada accepted.45 Okada met Shidehara and Harada relates the meeting in this way: Admiral Okada was called to the Foreign Minister’s office. Shidehara put it to him point blank ‘Should negotiations be broken off if there is any change from the 70% ratio or should they be concluded even if that ratio is reduced somewhat? Without hesitation Okada replied ‘By all means come to an agreement even if its 60% or 55’. Well then, won’t you do your best to bring about agreement within the navy on this issue?’ Admiral Okada then said, I’ll not be able to check the Chief of the Naval Staff by myself; but I’ll do what I can together with Governor General Saitō.46 Okada’s version of this meeting at Shidehara’s office was as follows: 1.30 pm. Shidehara came (Okada was waiting at the Foreign Ministry). Showed me the text of the ‘request for instructions’. He emphasized it had the signatures of all the plenipotentiaries on it and also said that Wakatsuki’s words were ‘regarding our efforts on this, it is difficult for us to do more’ and, that for the Government to ask them to push again, is difficult.47 Okada responded: In the final analysis it is probably inevitable but it is absolutely necessary to have 70% of the United States in heavy cruisers and again 52,000 tons in submarines makes deployment difficult. When I said this Shidehara said ‘I will conceive a plan which will alleviate this to some extent. If we can we will make up deficiencies of national defence by aircraft and other vessels not subject to limitation’ Finally, it’s probably inevitable. But the opinion of the present Chief of the Naval General Staff is really quite at odds with this plan. They say it is like asking them to jump off the edge of a precipice. We must plan a way of climbing down from that precipice.48 Okada then asked Shidehara to allow Yamanashi to clarify what Takarabe’s real thoughts were and promised to keep the meeting a secret. Since Okada makes no note of Shidehara summoning him the meeting had to be the one ‘arranged’ by Yamanashi after he had asked Okada to speak to the Foreign Minister. What is of much greater importance is Okada’s own version of events. Okada was, according to his writings, completely committed to a


successful conference. But Harada makes out as if Okada did not really consider the ratios important at all. At this point in time Okada appears less a ‘traitor’ to the navy ‘hard-liners’, someone willing to throw away the ‘Three Principles’. Rather he appears to be supporting Katō. Namely he was pressing as hard as possible for the ratio at least in heavy cruisers. Harada did note that Okada had said he would have to ‘don the mask of the die-hards’49. Therefore, whenever he speaks in the company of for example Katō, his words must always be, to some extent, suspect. But this is surely not the case when he is talking to Shidehara, a fellow member of the pro-treaty camp. Katō received some encouragement, on 21 March, when Admiral Count Yamamoto Gonnohyōe spoke to him at a palace function, Katō wrote: Yamamoto made a special point of speaking to me. He recalled an example from the time of the negotiations over the Anglo-Japanese Alliance and urged a final insistence. I am encouraged very much.50 Yamamoto was a former superior of Katō’s in the navy and had appointed the young Katō as his aide during the Russo-Japanese War and taken him on his mission to England to negotiate military aspects of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance. He was also a former Navy Minister and Prime Minister and, at this particular time, was being proposed as a possible replacement for Genrō Prince Saionji on the latter’s demise.51 He was also, interestingly, Navy Minister Takarabe’s father-in-law and Yamamoto’s daughter was with the London delegation. Having Yamamoto on one’s side would have helped Katō greatly but Yamamoto told Vice-Minister Yoshida of the Foreign Ministry on 23 March: Of course the matter must be settled. Though some may advocate a 70% ratio there are the views of other parties to consider and there must be some initial concessions made.52 The phrasing here seems vaguely reminiscent of the Foreign Ministry statement of 15 March. Katō appears thus to had thus gained and then quickly lost a good ally. The pro-treaty forces approached Yamamoto later to try and mollify Admiral Tōgō but the Count refused. By 20 March, the Naval General Staff had produced their response to the ‘American plan’ and had passed it to Rear-Admiral Hori Teikichi of the Naval Affairs Bureau of the Navy Ministry. It was entitled ‘Countermeasures relating to the (Plenipotentiaries) request for instructions to the government’ and stated:


that the American plan, even though skilfully dressed up externally as a compromise, in content shows they are trying to impose the assertions of their own country….53 The Naval General Staff ’s main proposals were: 1. To transfer 17,600 tons of the 205,950 tons in light cruisers to heavy cruisers. 2. That if America builds a 16th heavy cruiser Japan utilising the transfer method, will build her 13th. If America builds an 18th then Japan will complete her 14th. 3. To make Japan’s submarine tonnage 65,500 tons by transferring 12,250 tons from light cruisers and destroyers. 4. In the event that transfer to submarines is not acceptable, on the condition that submarines of 870 tons and below are excluded from the treaty figures, Japan will reduce existing tonnage to 72,000 tons.54 By 22 March, Rear Admiral Hori and his staff had examined the Naval General Staff proposals and synthesised the various naval views. Then, in what was to be the final naval draft, the following assertions were made: By the American proposal one of the three fundamental demands is almost realised. But regarding heavy cruisers and submarines it is regrettable that these levels are a long way from what we would wish. Consequently since we fear and estimate that the latest proposal is likely to restrict our country almost permanently it is not possible to give our assent easily. It is strongly requested the delegates to push again and then again once more to get the Japanese proposal accepted.55 Japanese Naval General Staff Position Paper Dates 25/11/29.


Since all the new cruisers the USA was building were 8’ (treaty) cruisers, the tonnage remains constant at 10,000 tons for American calculations. Japan and Great Britain had some cruisers of less than 10,000 tons but classified these as heavy cruisers. Matsudaira-Reed Compromise Plan 13/3/30 sent 14/3/30

This gave Japan an overall ratio vis-à-vis the USA of 69.75, in heavy cruisers 60.2, (in ships 66.6). The ratio in submarines was 100. But in submarines Japan was not seeking a ratio but ‘existing strength’ and these figures greatly reduced that existing strength. NAVAL GENERAL STAFF COUNTERPROPOSAL Naval General Staff Counterproposal to above Reed-Matsudaira proposal passed to Navy Ministry (20/3/30) and then to Foreign Ministry (and ‘pigeonholed’). Heavy Cruisers Light Cruisers Destroyers Submarines

126,000 (14 ships) 72,000 104,000 77,842


Total 379,842 Ratios Overall–70.5 Heavy cruisers–70

The tonnage figure here for submarines was the ‘existing strength’ in Fiscal 1931. Interestingly however here Japan includes submarine figures in overall tonnage whereas originally the overall ratio applied to surface vessels (according to Kaigun Gunsenbi (1). If one calculates using only surface vessels then overall ratio is 63.8 and therefore does sacrifice one of the original Three Principles’. The most important elements in the Reed-Matsudaira plan above (above) were: 1. On the basis of the American proposal of 5 February, America to have 15 heavy cruisers and to transfer 30,000 tons to light cruisers to obtain this. 2. On submarines and destroyers Japan will compromise as follows: a) Transfer 12,800 tons from destroyers leaving 92,700 tons. b) Amount possessed in submarines to be increased to) 65,500. 3. To recognize the method of transferring between auxiliary classes to a maximum of 20%, in accordance with the Gibson proposal in the sixth session of the League of Nation’s Disarmament Commission. 4. To concede America’s right to superiority in heavy cruisers, Japan will only transfer tonnage after America has completed its transfer from heavy cruisers56 Katō had noted in his diary for that day: …counterproposals to the Foreign Ministry based on the Gibson plan. Met Kaneko Kentarō…ko feels (Ambassador) Castle’s confidence in agreement to the American plan is a result of meetings with Shidehara.57 Both the Naval General Staff draft, and the Hori draft which superseded it had made clear that the navy still wished to achieve or at least move much closer to achieving two of the three principles, those on heavy cruisers and submarines. But most importantly it was a compromise and showed that the navy were prepared to make some concessions, however minor. The Foreign Ministry had incorporated the navy’s proposals, almost verbatim, in the original instructions to the delegation. Thus the navy was probably


reasonably confident that its ‘compromise proposal’ would receive very careful consideration at least. However Foreign Minister Shidehara and his staff were already drafting their own response that was later to become known as the ‘Foreign Ministry Plan’ or ‘Government Plan’. The Foreign Ministry believed ultimately that the matter would be settled ‘once Katō and his circle calm down from their excited state’. Shidehara, in cooperation with the Premier had been furiously working on a response since 14 March. He was coming under increased pressure from the overseas diplomatic corps in Tokyo. On 17 March, the French Deputy Ambassador asked Shidehara to hold firm on submarines against the British and Americans. On 18 March, the British Ambassador informed Shidehara that there was no scope for anything other than the Reed-Matsudaira compromise plan. That same afternoon the American Ambassador met Deputy Foreign Minister Yoshida and explained that if Japan supported the French hard-line assertion on submarines then Japan would be blamed for the collapse of the conference. There were numerous telegrams from British and American politicians in London direct to Shidehara and Hamaguchi, which applied pressure if not threats, although these were later denied.58 The message was abundantly clear, Japan was being strongly advised not to ‘push again’ but instead accept the ‘compromise proposals’ reached in London. Shidehara was in no doubt what the correct decision was to be and as he wrote later: There is no way but to do it decisively without prevarication. If I listen to the explanation from the navy people a decision cannot be reached at all.59 The Foreign Ministry never responded to the navy’s draft response and Shidehara instructed his team not to liase with the navy, not even the Navy Ministry. Professor Ikeda has pointed out that this move showed Shidehara as lacking in political sense since it needlessly antagonized the navy further.60 The navy of course were unaware of Shidehara’s decision at the time. Katō was busy trying to arrange a ‘gathering’ of Supreme Military Councillors to approve the navy counterproposals. Deputy Navy Minister Yamanashi told Admiral Okada that he wished to avoid this but that he might have to accede to the wishes of the Chief of the Naval General Staff. He told Okada that, though he had spoken already to Katō, he would like Okada to do the same. Yamanashi wanted the meeting to be restricted to background and progress reports.61


Meanwhile Suetsugu, Vice Chief of the Naval General Staff, had attempted once again to obtain press coverage for the ‘admiralty’ position but this time only a few papers carried it.62 It did nevertheless incense Hamaguchi further and made him all the more determined to discipline Suetsugu. At 8.30 am on 23 March Okada called on Katō at his home. He asked Katō how they should proceed and Katō answered: I am just about to go and and explain our deployment to the Lord Privy Seal and the Grand Chamberlain and proceed to explain the unsuitability of the American plan. But if there are points to be improved in my note I shall wait for Suetsugu.63 Okada advised Katō that he should make these explanations with great care so as to leave scope for the future and that the Supreme Military Councillors gathering should go no further than progress reports. Katō agreed with the latter proposal saying that this was also the wish of Yamanashi. This meeting was, of course, an unofficial meeting of the Supreme Military Council since it required an imperial inquiry’ to convene one officially. Okada then went to see Admiral Prince Fushimi and recorded the meeting as follows: I said there will be a gathering of the Supreme Military Councillors tomorrow. But because I think it is difficult to state what is in the mind of the Navy Minister (Takarabe) at this time we will only receive progress reports.64 Prince Fushimi replied: Takarabe’s mind is clear. Before he left he twice told me ‘I will not budge one step from the Three Principles’. It is not necessary to ask what is in the mind of the Navy Minister.65 Fushimi went on to criticise Shidehara’s weak diplomacy and Okada responded by emphasising how necessary it was to avoid a clash between the navy and the government. Prince Fushimi then spoke firmly saying: ‘If we retreat one step, then there is no hope for the future of the nation. If it becomes critical I have made up my mind to ask to see the Emperor and I shall tell him the same.’66 Previous to this, Shidehara had objected to Yamanashi trying to contact Takarabe to find out his innermost thoughts on the negotiations. Shidehara had made a point of emphasising in his discussions with Okada that all four plenipotentiaries had put their names to


the telegram. Prince Fushimi now apparently did not wish Takarabe to be given the chance to ‘renege’ and alter his position prior to departure. That evening Okada visited Admiral Tōgō who informed him that he was greatly dissatisfied with the ‘request for instructions’ communication from London.67 After that Okada met Rear Admiral Nomura Kichisaburō and Deputy Navy Minister Yamanashi to discuss their next steps. At this point both Prince Fushimi and Admiral of the Fleet Tōgō were completely behind Katō and the Naval General Staff’s rejection of the ‘American plan’. Takarabe’s position was much more difficult to ascertain. Vice-Admiral Sakonji wired Yamanashi from London and summarised the Navy Minister’s thinking.68 According to Sakonji, Takarabe had agreed it was difficult to agree to the compromise plan and he hoped that the navy would devise an interim plan and negotiate further. But he was in a difficult position since he was a Plenipotentiary and Navy Minister. On the same day Katō met Lord Privy Seal Makino and Grand Chamberlain Suzuki and stressed his non-agreement to the American compromise plan stating that acceptance was ‘very dangerous’. They apparently made no comment.69 Katō then sent a member of his staff to consult with Privy Councillor Kaneko Kentarō on ‘further details’. These details were not recorded but probably related to Castle-Shidehara discussions. On 24 March, the naval members of the Supreme Military Council met to discuss the navy’s plan (the Hori plan) that had been drafted in response to Hamaguchi’s order to Yamanashi on 15 March. This navy response had been passed to the Foreign Ministry on 22 March.70 Present at the meeting were Tōgō, Fushimi, Okada, Katō and Yamanashi. Katō spoke first giving a progress report and stating his opinions. Then Yamanashi explained the navy’s draft reply that had been passed to the Foreign Ministry on 22 March. At this point Fushimi asked what Japan’s position would be if the conference collapsed and Katō replied light-heartedly that ‘that was not a thing to be anxious about’.71 Okada, after the formal discussion had ended stressed the difficult position the cabinet was in. He said that if the Cabinet did not show flexibility the conference would collapse. He also emphasized the need to avoid the serious repercussions of a navy/government clash. That evening Okada had a three hour discussion with Grand Chamberlain Suzuki.72 On 24 March, another telegram from Vice Admiral Sakonji arrived from London. It contained further details of Takarabe’s thinking on the JapaneseAmerican plan.73 According to Sakonji, Takarabe’s thinking could be summarized as follows; that it was entirely impossible to agree to the American proposal as it stood; he thought a final, temporary compromise, acceptable to Japan, could be reached for a limited period; that if the


government did not use the navy compromise plan or accepted the plan reached in London, this would result in serious confusion and that was what he was most worried about. Katō, Okada, Suetsugu and Hori now met with Yamanashi at the Navy Minister’s residence to discuss this latest development. On 25 March, a telegram arrived in Tokyo from Takarabe.74 Takarabe’s own telegram, addressed to Yamanashi confirmed Sakonji’s assumptions but in a clearer and more positive fashion. In this communication Takarabe expressed clearly his wish that a temporary compromise be put forward by the navy as a final proposal; that consequently the government must include in the instructions, the limits to any compromise and that a final resolution be shown in the instructions. Okada noted that Takarabe had said, ‘dissatisfied with the American plan however as a plenipotentiary attached my signature, hoping for the occurrence of a new situation’. He then noted that Yamanashi discussed the possibility of an interim plan but no conclusion was reached. Katō noted in his diary that Takarabe did not accept that the Wakatsuki request for instructions was final and that the American-Japanese compromise plan was not a compromise.75 After the meeting, Yamanashi went to see the Prime Minister and told him that the navy found it impossible to accept the ‘American plan’ as it stood. Hamaguchi responded that the government earnestly desired the success of the conference and that if it collapsed it would be very difficult indeed for his administration.76 According to Professor Ikeda’s account, Hamaguchi then urged the navy to reconsider. However, Katō’s diary states ‘as for the above Hamaguchi says he’ll reconsider but its only words’.77 One point to note here is that a Navy Ministry official was referring to the ‘American plan’ not just the Naval General Staff. Much has been made of the fact that Katō and Suetsugu continually tried to have the Reed-Matsudaira plan labelled an ‘American plan’. One would perhaps expect Sakonji to use the term but Takarabe himself and Yamanashi also referred to it in this way. On 26 March, naval leaders met to discuss naval policy for the immediate future. The policy document which emerged was a clear indication of the navy’s (as opposed to just the Naval General Staff ‘s or even Katō’s) opinions. Present at the meeting were Katō, Suetsugu, Yamanashi, Okada and the Parliamentary Vice Minister (Navy). After considerable discussion the following conclusions were reached and incorporated in a document entitled Kaigun Kaigo No Hōshin (Navy policy from now on). It stated: 1. We are not able to accept the American plan. As to our being able to compromise on our basic assertions this is limited to the levels contained


in the navy’s ‘draft reply’. As for the navy, it sincerely wishes that the plenipotentiaries will make a further push stressing this level and taking all necessary measures. 2. It is impossible for the navy to submit an interim or compromise plan to accompany this assertion. Such an interim plan is in the nature of being our only and final plan demonstrating our commitment to preventing the breakdown of the conference. Therefore, we cannot construct such a compromise from the specialist point of view. 3. If the government decides then we wish an explanation from the acting Navy Minister (Hamaguchi) together with the Foreign Minister (Shidehara) to the naval leaders. 4. Also whichever plan the government decides there will be a reply from the Vice Minister od f the Navy concerning specialist matters in the American proposal where such a dxecision will lead to our disadvantage or will require changes and on these items the navy wishes the plenipotentiaries to do their utmost to negate the effects. 5. That if the government did decide to accept the American plan the navy, naturally, would obey and do its best within the limits set.78 In the discussion which ensued Suetsugu apparently asked that articles four and five, since they merely stated the obvious, ought to be deleted from the document. Katō however, thought it essential that they remain in, so as to avoid misunderstandings.79 Yamanashi then explained to the Prime Minister Hamaguchi but, although he passed a document to Hamaguchi, it only covered points 1. to 3. and points 4. and 5. were presented orally. They nevertheless remained in the navy’s draft policy document. After the navy meeting both Okada and Katō received visitors. Okada wrote in his diary: Yamaji Ichizen called and said ‘even though we must settle the conference we must push once more’ then I heard from Katō that Count (Admiral) Yamamoto says we must push some more.80 Katō’s visitor was Mizumachi Kesaroku, a Privy Councillor, who pressed him ‘to hold out for 70%’.81 That same day the Deputy Navy Minister had asked Okada to speak to the Prime Minister and convey to him the opinions of navy officers. He asked Okada if he would go with Katō. Okada replied he might see the Prime Minister alone if it was impossible to go with the Chief of the Naval General Staff. Kobayashi Tatsuo noted that Katō and Okada visited Hamaguchi and the latter said:


Since I am both Navy Minister protem and Prime Minister I must avoid disruption of the conference etc. and having considered matters deeply from the national situation I will bring about an agreement based on the request for instructions.82 Katō’s version of the same events was as follows: Today met the Premier at 3.00 pm at his official residence. Okada came along too. We stated our great opposition. Admiral Okada also advised him of the serious consequences which might be expected. A second telegram came from Takarabe. Harada Kumao came to my private residence. He said that the Naval General Staff assertions were, on the whole, hopeless and pressed me to reconsider our demands. Support for Naval General Staff assertions is weakening. I absolutely refused, it was too late.83 Hamaguchi’s diary entry was as follows: Katō Kanji still very firm. Takarabe telegram came and, as Navy Minister, not as plenipotentiary urged we should push again, but this may lead to rupture of the conference.84 Aoki Tokuzō’s version, based on cabinet documents was: Since I am Prime Minister as well as Navy Minister protem I must deeply consider from the overall situation of the state. As for the outline of policy, I wish to establish an agreement based on the draft (in the) request for instructions. I wish to avoid disruption of the conference.85 On 27 March, Okada met with Katō and his version of events that day was: 8.00 am went to Katō’s home to go together to Hamaguchi. At 9.30 am Shared the car with Yamanashi to go to the PM’s official residence arriving at 10.00am. Telegram to Premier and Foreign Minister from Takarabe arrived asking for the reply instructions based on an interim plan. I met with Yamanashi and advised them that, as the Minister’s intention has now become clear the Naval General Staff should endeavour to submit an interim plan. Premier said I should like to have an interim plan in the reply instructions but without the resolution. I met Katō and Yamanashi. The will of the Navy Minister is clear and the


Naval General Staff should make every endeavour to submit an interim plan. Hamaguchi’s intentions have now become clear. That is ‘this cabinet is unable to allow the disruption of the conference. If an interim plan is submitted with a resolution, it is difficult to consider’…3.00 pm Called on PM Hamaguchi at his residence. Katō came a little after me and said ‘as I understood that the PM asked me to come, I have come’. Suzuki, the Chief Secretary, said ‘that is not so. The request came from your side. The Premier is waiting’. We met at five past three in the Premier’s private room. Katō explained in detail the Three Great Principles’. I said, since the Navy Minister’s (Takarabe) intentions have been made clear I’d like these to be respected. If not the situation will be extremely serious. The Prime Minister said, ‘As the reply instruction has already taken up more than two weeks, we must do something soon. Now that I have heard the Navy position in detail; I will decide in some way on the basis of your speech, whatever the objections’. 4.00 p.m. Left with Katō. Katō said to Hamaguchi (at this point) ‘I should like to attend the cabinet meeting in my capacity as Chief of the Naval General Staff Hamaguchi said There is no precedent for that. I refuse. But, since you have close relations with cabinet members its up to you whether you convey your opinion to each one’. Katō’s words were ‘at this time my mind is made up’. In the final analysis, if we can place an important emphasis on aircraft, we will be able to carry out national defence. But there are problems in the Naval General Staff and Kansei Honbu concerning submarines. For the Naval General Staff it is a deployment problem. For the Kansei Honbu it is a technical one and this cannot be helped. For these there are solutions in that every year we will prepare materials for several ships. Regarding the technology we will build only the most difficult parts of various ships.86 On 28 March, Katō noted that there had been considerable press speculation over his meeting with the Prime Minister the day before. Hamaguchi’s attitude was, by now, clear. He would accept the compromise plan arrived at in London. Katō was thus determined to open a gensuisangikan kaigi. Katō went to see Okada that afternoon and according to Okada: 4.00 p.m. Katō came. He stressed we must open a gensuisangikan kaigi. I said this was not advisable. Then Katō said that in that case, as Chief of the Naval General Staff, he must appeal to the throne. As to that I told him it was not the time.87


What Katō did not know was that Okada had already summoned the Deputy Navy Minister earlier that day telling him: In other words, there is no scope other than to swallow it whole. But as for the amount of strength in the above American plan there is the feeling that there are deficiencies and also deployment (problems). We must get the government to promise to make this up and get them to acknowledge it by a cabinet memorandum. But regarding a gensuisangikan kaigi, if we have one and it comes out in opposition to the government it will be serious. I stressed strongly that we must not have one.88 It would seem from the above that the interview with Hamaguchi, on 27 March, had produced contrasting reactions on the part of Okada and Katō. Katō had decided to try and confront the government through a military advisory body or by a direct appeal to the throne and force Hamaguchi to retreat. Okada, holding consistently to his avowed aim of avoiding a navy/ government clash, now wished to prevent the convening of the military advisory body at this time. Having in effect conceded victory to the Prime Minister, Okada now took up Shidehara’s suggestion of supplementary budgets and advised Yamanashi to make sure that a cabinet memorandum promising a supplementary budget was obtained. The Navy Ministry then began planning for the most effective compromise within the limits of the government reply, leaving Katō and the Naval General Staff isolated. One can only assume that the shift by the more pliant navy officers was conveyed to the Foreign Ministry by Okada or Yamanashi directly or indirectly, since on 29 March, Katō received a visit from Nagai Ryūtarō, the Foreign Ministry’s parliamentary vice-minister. Katō commented: Nagai held the foolish opinion that I accept the American compromise plan, lie low and have another attempt later on.89 Katō then wrote that Count Makino, the Lord Privy Seal’s secretary came and listened to Katō’s explanations of the position.While this was going on Okada, in response to a call from Admiral Prince Fushimi had hurried to the Prince’s residence at 9.30 am. Fushimi spoke first: Until the reply is sent we must cause them (the navy) to push forcefully. However if they (government) decide we must obey. It is troublesome to be unbending like Katō. Again we must not open a gensuisangikan


kaigi. On this problem, it is probable that Katō will resign if they decide on such a reply but it is perhaps best if he does not.90 Okada agreed completely with the Prince and the Prince then told Okada he would be away from Tokyo from that evening for a few days to attend various functions in Osaka and at the Navy College (Etajima). He then said: If during this time the Supreme Military Councillors meet then, at an appropriate moment, you should announce my opinion.91 Okada then ‘happily told Yamanashi of this conversation’.That evening Katō attended a banquet at the Palace and noted that: Makino, Shidehara and Suzuki attended. They were very sensitive about my attitude. Suzuki intimated that he intended to check my report to the throne.92 Makino and Suzuki had no doubt already been forewarned by Makino’s secretary that Katō’s resolve had not weakened and doubtless Shidehara had also heard the same from Nagai. In any case it would appear that Katō took the government and especially Shidehara to task for this. The Tokyo Asahi Shinbun carried a report summarized as follows: …the chief of naval staff was reported to have taken the foreign minister severely to task for the alleged disregard of the views of the admiralty by the latter. Admiral Katō protested against Baron Shidehara on the ground that, when Ambassador Matsudaira reached an agreement with Senator Reed. he was acting under informal instructions from the foreign minister and that the naval authorities were not consulted in the matter…93 According to this report, Katō then explained the navy situation and sought a detailed explanation from Shidehara but there is no evidence that any detailed response was forthcoming. On 30 March, Katō wrote: Navy parliamentary vice-minister Yabuki came to call on me in Yatsuya and reported the general situation concerning the disarmament reply. Hinting at the resolution of the government he requested caution in my behaviour. I rebuted him by asking why, in spite of the fact that 20 days had elapsed since the request from Wakatsuki, no responsible and meaningful reply has been issued by the government. I instructed


him to do something about it without delay. He left promising that he would tell the Foreign office. As the one responsible, I have still not been shown the (revised) instructions.94 That same day, the Navy Ministry had completed a draft plan and it was passed from Deputy Navy Minister Yamanashi to Vice-Chief of the Naval General Staff, Suetsugu. He in turn presented it to Katō for his inspection. It was the supplementary measures plan. This was designed to try and make up for the deficiencies in the naval strength if the Reed-Matsudaira plan was accepted. Yamanashi then saw the Prime Minister and the Foreign Minister and obtained their consent. This left only the Finance Minister’s consent to complete ‘inner cabinet’ approval and then the Minseitō cabinet would all be committed to the promise of a budgetary allocation to the navy for aircraft, ships and facilities outside the treaty limitations. Any last lingering hopes of Navy Ministry assistance must have disappeared from Katō’s mind when, Yamanashi, on leaving his meeting with the Premier told the press that: …although the navy department had so far sided with the stand of the naval general staff, it could do nothing but abide by the decision of the cabinet, it being a department of the government. He went on to declare however, that as a naval officer he was as firmly convinced that the existing policy (‘three fundamental claims’) represented the minimum limits commensurate with national security and that the same should be upheld in all circumstances.95 Yamanashi did state that the ‘Three Principles’ ought to be upheld but it is clear that the Navy Ministry now, publicly, had abandoned any alliance with the Naval General Staff against the cabinet or more correctly the Hamaguchi/ Shidehara alliance. From this point on to talk of a ‘navy’ or ‘admiralty’ stand, without qualifying who precisely one means, becomes difficult and often confusing. The government reply to London was expected to be completed on 31 March and presented to a cabinet meeting the next day…maguchi recorded in his diary that he received it from Shidehara on 31 March.96 Katō Kanji meanwhile was involved in two different but related developments on the 31 March. These two events were later to be important elements in the political storm over the manner in which the government ‘reply’ to London. These developments were: Katō’s preparations for and final meeting with Premier Hamaguchi before the instructions were approved by the Emperor and despatched to London; and Katō’s meetings with Grand Chamberlain Suzuki on 31 March and 1 April to arrange an imperial audience.


It is very clear from the Okada and Katō diaries that the Foreign Ministry was a hive of activity on 31 March. The revised instructions had obviously been decided and it was to be the Foreign Ministry’s own draft. The Navy draft had been pigeonholed and never reappeared. Vice Minister Yoshida met Yamanashi and Okada and having pressed Yamanashi to send a telegram to Takarabe in London then asked Okada to do the same and they urged Takarabe to agree to the Government ‘reply’. Okada however decided it would be better if a message ‘Admiral Okada is of the same opinion’ was appended to Yamanashi’s telegram.97 Yamanashi had already spoken to Okada that morning to tell him that the Finance Minister had given his approval to the navy’s supplementary budget for ‘deficiencies’ in the plan incorporated in the ‘reply’. In the evening, two officials from the Foreign Ministry, Nagai and Hotta, explained the draft reply at the Navy Ministry but the text was not shown to the naval officers present.98 Katō described this meeting in his diary as ‘inconclusive, dispersed’ but he in fact did not attend.99 Okada had noted ‘this morning when I saw Katō he was in a pathetic state’ and commented that Katō had talked of resigning.100 Katō’s state of mind that day may have contributed to his absence in the evening from the Foreign Ministry’s briefing to naval officers. On the other hand he may simply have felt that he should have received an explanation earlier, personally and from someone of higher rank so his absence may have been merely pique. Okada had then discussed Katō’s plight with Yamanashi and Admiral Osumi Mineo and Osumi was sent to Katō to try and comfort him. Katō’s diary does not mention the Osumi visit but Harada’s diary states that Osumi helped Katō revise his report to the throne. According to this source, Katō’s report contained a number of references highly critical of the government and the Foreign Ministry over the ‘reply’.101 Osumi was said to have persuaded Katō to delete these. Okada and Katō had also met that day. Okada began by relating Prince Fushimi’s wish to avoid a gensuisangikan kaigi and then discussed a possible meeting with Hamaguchi on 1 April. Katō commented that he wished to remain silent and let Okada do the talking. However, at 8. 00 p.m. Osumi phoned Okada and stated that Katō, whilst admitting that he had agreed to be silent in the coming meeting with Hamaguchi, now felt it might be better if he were absent.102 Katō recorded in his diary that there was now nothing else for it and this was the day (31/3) he would appeal directly to the Emperor.103 After meeting with Grand Chamberlain Suzuki however, Katō’s meeting with the Emperor was postponed until the next day.104 Katō had also had a secret visit that day from the Minister for the Colonies, Matsuda Genji, sounding out Katō’s views on the ‘reply’. Katō regarded him


as an enthusiastic sympathiser and he was probably Katō’s greatest ally in the cabinet. Katō asked him to pass on a warning to Hamaguchi if the government proceeded too quickly with the ‘reply’. The shocked and concerned Matsuda promised to pass the message on the next morning before the cabinet formally met.105 It is therefore hardly surprising that Katō was as Okada noted, in a ‘pathetic’ state that day. It was by now very evident that the government would accept the ‘American plan’ and placate the navy with a supplementary budget. It was clear that Yamanashi and the Navy Ministry moderates were, openly, no longer on the side of the Naval General Staff. The navy compromise draft had been ignored. Katō was left therefore with three main courses of action if he were to prevent the Prime Minister and Foreign Minister sending it to London. First, he could influence the cabinet. Katō did have allies in the cabinet, such as Matsuda and possibly Koizumi Matajirō, Railways Minister, but they were few in number and not members of Hamaguchi’s inner cabinet (Shidehara, Inoue and Egi). If he failed to persuade the cabinet then he would have to prevent the Emperor assenting to it. One method was therefore to have the Emperor submit an imperial inquiry to the Supreme Military Council as the advisability of the Government’s ‘reply’. Katō had already tried to do this but Okada and Yamanashi had opposed it. Moreover Prince Fushimi’s words to Okada, passed to Katō, now rendered that course of action unlikely to succeed. The final and most delicate course of action was to utilize his own right of iaku jōsō (direct access to the Emperor) and hope that then the Emperor would take appropriate steps. What steps the Emperor might have taken are a matter of conjecture. He could decide in favour of the cabinet but it was not considered proper for the Emperor to decide personally and he would have to choose between one of his two advisers (Cabinet or Naval General Staff). He could have convened a Gozen Kaigi (Conference in the Imperial Presence) nevertheless and settled matters. Alternatively he could have asked the Supreme Military Council or Board of Fleet Admirals and Field Marshals (or even the Privy Council) to arbitrate and advise. This course of action would have meant more delay and would have suited Katō Kanji. But it would have had grave consequences for the negotiations in London since the reply had been already delayed more than two weeks. However, Katō failed to obtain his audience with the Emperor on 31 March thus the crisis was avoided, albeit temporarily. Yet another alternative was possible and that was to resign and possibly persuade Navy Minister Takarabe to resign also and bring down the cabinet. But Katō, whilst prepared to resign himself, does not seem to have ever considered the latter option. It was most unlikely that Takarabe would


have agreed anyway. Thus this particular day ended with Katō being frustrated at every turn. Moreover, he was now aware that one of his most powerful supporters, Prince Fushimi, was now inclining towards the opposition’s viewpoint. The loss of the Imperial Prince, also a Supreme Military Councillor, considerably weakened Katō’s position and was a serious blow to his morale. At 8.00 am on 1 April, Katō arrived at his office and was met by the Navy Minister’s aide, Captain Koga Mineichi. He informed Katō that Prime Minister Hamaguchi had requested that the Chief of the Naval General Staff come to his office, along with Military Councillor Admiral Okada, for a private showing of the government ‘reply’ about to be submitted to the cabinet. Katō was at first reluctant to go. Katō wrote later that: When I replied to Koga that I must not respond to an invitation such as this he advised me that he well understood my thinking. However if it was difficult for me to agree (to the ‘reply’) wouldn’t it be best to attend and disagree clearly in front of the Prime Minister. Suetsugu came and he also advised me to state my opposition clearly. As a result of this I went to the Prime Minister’s official residence.106 Katō, Okada and Yamanashi met the Prime Minister in the room adjoining the cabinet meeting room at 8.30. Hamaguchi explained orally, and by means of a written document, the diplomatic, political and financial situation that formed the background to the government’s decision on the reply. He informed both officers that he was satisfied that he had sufficient information from the navy and that the cabinet would now decide. Since differing accounts of the responses of both Okada and Katō are to be found in the literature and, since Katō’s response in particular was to become a major source of controversy later, the relevant sections of the Katō, Okada and Hamaguchi diaries will be cited here in full. First the Katō versions: I stated clearly ‘As for the Naval General Staff, as the ones responsible for national defence strategy, it is difficult to agree in regard to planning with the numbers which form the basis of the American proposal…’107 Katō later expanded on this diary entry as follows: He explained that as Premier and Navy Minister protem he was showing us the draft government reply and explaining the reasons and circumstances of the decision. On this Military Councillor Okada stated


that the navy still was not able to change its assertions. But, as to the words used by Okada, they made the attitude of the navy sound weak. His actual words were ‘I have well understood the Prime Minister’s resolve. There is no other way than submitting this plan to the cabinet meeting. As for the assertions of the navy, from the specialist viewpoint, they will continue in existence as before and I request you permit Deputy Navy Minister Yamanashi to attend the cabinet meeting to speak (on the Navy’s behalf). But if the cabinet meeting decides on this plan the navy will endeavour to study the best methods based on that decision’. Note (in original) I must say that as one without responsibility and without authority, since he is only one Military Councillor, it was criminal of the Navy Vice-Minister to cause him to say this and it is very strange. This is my estimation but there is no one else who could have developed such a strategy. Consequently this initial response of Military Councillor Okada had no authority at all but, in order to make matters clear on this day, I will record here my actual words. ‘I stated resolutely: As the one responsible for strategic planning of national defence I am not, from my position of responsibility, able to consent to the naval strength which forms the basis of the American plan’. (I said this) to squash Okada’s reply…108 Okada’s version of these events is as follows: Consequently, I said ‘We are unable to stop the submission of these instructions to the cabinet but the Navy cannot discard the three fundamental principles. As for the naval situation I should like it to be stated adequately in the cabinet meeting by Yamanashi. On the basis of the cabinet decision we must endeavour to do our best’. Katō said ‘As for the likes of this American plan, with regard to operations and strategy, I cannot accept responsibility as Chief of the Naval General Staff.109 Hamaguchi’s version of the same events in his diary was: Okada said The determination of the Prime Minister I well understand. As to the submission of this reply draft to today’s cabinet, I think there is nothing we can do about it. The opinions of the military (naval) authorities have not changed up till now. I think I should like to request your permission for Yamanashi to attend the cabinet meeting to state these views. On the basis of the reply being decided in the cabinet


meeting the military (naval) authorities will endeavour to do their very best. Then Katō said the following: ‘In the request for instructions plan, from operations and strategy I cannot agree, from operations and strategy…110 Katō had, of course, already stated on the previous day that he would be silent. According to his recollections he was stung into replying by the nature and content of Okada’s reply. It was, according to Katō not sufficiently forceful and therefore weakened the navy case and moreover he clearly felt Okada had exceeded his authority. Okada’s notes indicate a rather stronger reply but Hamaguchi’s diary seems to support Katō’s contentions. As to Okada’s proposal that Yamanashi attend the cabinet meeting it was probably to obtain approval from the whole cabinet for the supplementary budget. Since he, as Deputy Navy Minister could attend cabinet meetings, this development was not surprising. It does show however that Hamaguchi, despite constantly referring to himself as Navy Minister protem would take no formal role on the navy side of these discussions. Nevertheless, Hamaguchi did use his position, informally, as Navy Minister protem when it suited his purposes. Katō had tried to persuade Hamaguchi on 27 March, to allow him to participate in the cabinet meeting and had failed. At a later date the government was accused of deciding on a policy that affected national defence planning at this meeting when neither of the service ministers were in attendance, the Army Minister being ill (Ugaki) and the Navy Minister being in London. This could have proved embarrassing for Hamaguchi and one doubts whether a statement that he was Navy Minister protem would have silenced the protests. However, by permitting Yarnanashi (and Captain Hori Teikichi incidentally) to attend, Hamaguchi thus had both service Deputy Ministers present at the meeting. Yamanashi was not a voting member but the army man was. For Hamaguchi to permit Katō’s naval subordinates to attend after refusing him, whilst possibly constitutionally correct, must have been extremely annoying, especially since it was by now clear that the Navy Ministry planners had completely capitulated to the government. Katō’s own response to the Government plan was, like Okada’s, rather stronger in his own later recollections but in his actual diary entry and that of Hamaguchi his response is rather weak and open to a number of interpretations. It is nevertheless clear that Katō did register a clear objection despite planning to say nothing. This was obviously due to Okada’s answer being more appropriate to Yamanashi’s way of thinking than to what Katō thought they had agreed the day before.


After Okada and Katō had spoken Yamanashi then asked that the navy be allowed to study the ‘reply’ and requested that the cabinet not decide until the navy had examined it. The three naval officers then rushed back to the Navy Minister’s offices and, along with Suetsugu, Hori and others began hurriedly, to try and modify their previous plans based on the document that they had seen for the first time that morning. It was almost exactly the same as the plan sent on 15 March and they had received verbal explanations from Foreign Ministry staff on 31 March and therefore little could be done to alter previous proposals. In less than an hour, Yamanashi had a reply ready for the cabinet. It comprised two documents, one a two-part response to the ‘reply’ which stated, in part one, the reasons why the navy could not accept the naval strength as embodied in the American plan and in part two, the necessary measures required to make good deficiencies resulting from acceptance of such a plan.111 Most accounts of this meeting state that there were no dissenting opinions when Yamanashi asked for comments before leaving for the cabinet meeting. However, in a Naval General Staff document leaked to the Jiji Shinpō newspaper on 23 June, which could only have been prepared (but not necessarily leaked) by Katō and Suetsugu, the point was made that Suetsugu wanted to know why reservations were only expressed on heavy cruisers and not on submarines which were equally important. Yamanashi apparently simply ignored this.112 Yamanashi’s attitude towards the Naval General Staff officers present at this later meeting, elicited a similar response from them. In other words, when he read (three times) his prepared statement it was greeted with silence. Such a response was, according to one’s perspective, either consent or dissent. A silent understanding in this tense atmosphere is very difficult indeed to interpret. Prior to Yamanashi attending the cabinet meeting, Katō once more attempted to gain an audience with the Emperor on 1 April but again was told the Emperor’s schedule was full. The cabinet meeting had begun before Yamanashi reached the Prime Minister’s offices but apparently other matters were discussed in his absence. The Cabinet agreed to the government plan in the draft ‘reply’ to London and gave an understanding to Yamanashi regarding the supplementary budget in the f form of a cabinet memorandum. Then, having obtained cabinet approval, Hamaguchi saw the Emperor and despatched the revised instructions to London. Hamaguchi did not wait for the Chief of the Naval General Staff to report to the throne on relevant command aspects as he had done with the original instructions. Katō finally obtained an audience with the Emperor on 2 April, the day after the instructions had been sent.


Hamaguchi and Shidehara had clearly emerged victorious in the struggle over the revised instructions. But they had needed considerable assistance from navy elders such as Okada, Grand Chamberlain Suzuki and even, to some extent Prince Fushimi. Katō had failed to prevent the Prime Minister from obtaining cabinet and Imperial approval for the ‘revised instructions’. He finally received an audience with the Emperor on 2 April, the day after the ‘government reply’ had been despatched to London. Inevitably, there were press reports speculating on the content of Katō’s report to the throne. Aoki Tokuzō produced some extracts from this report which indicate that whilst Katō’s original draft had contained direct criticisms of the government and the Foreign Office. However in the end he submitted a relatively bland report to the throne.113 After his audience with the Emperor, Katō returned to his office and gave a press interview. Although pressed, Katō naturally refused to disclose the contents of his appeal to the throne. However, he sparked off considerable controversy by making the following statement: The Imperial Japanese Navy will not act rashly or indiscreetly in connection with the instructions which have been sent to the Japanese delegation at the London Conference. However the navy believe that it will have to do the proper thing to meet the situation as it develops. There is decidedly no change in the policy of the Naval Staff which does not give its consent to a force defence based on the ReedMatsudaira proposals. The reason for this is that it is the Naval Staff which is responsible for maintaining the national defence of the country. This attitude has been made public again and again by the naval authorities. They will continue to do the best that is in their power to see that the defences of the country are not put in a dangerous position.114 Katō then drafted a telegram to Takarabe in London.115 This particular telegram’s contents were to be used later by pro-treaty forces as evidence in the Privy Council and elsewhere of Katō’s ‘tacit agreement’ to the government ‘reply’. Katō wrote: Today, I reported to the throne that the Chief of the Naval General Staff cannot agree with the government’s reply draft. I sincerely wish that you, as Navy Minister, should give careful thought as to policy from now on, and adopt a firm and resolute attitude. As for navy matters, don’t worry.116


Katō, frustrated at almost every turn, had failed to prevent the government compromising on the ‘Three Principles’. The delegation in London now had the means of obtaining an agreement and rescuing the conference from total failure. A Five Power Treaty had not been possible due to the refusal of the French and Italians to compromise on auxiliary naval strength. However, a Three Power Agreement was concluded between the United States, Great Britain and Japan.117 The Minseitō Government, having overcome the internal opposition to the revised instructions to London, now awaited the final draft of the treaty. It arrived in Tokyo on 19 April and was immediately examined by Cabinet, Foreign Office and Naval Ministry staffs. The draft was approved without further revisions and the government cabled Plenipotentiary Wakatsuki on 20 April and the London Treaty was formally signed on 22 April. The first phase of the ‘London Treaty Crisis’ was now over and the forces, for and against the treaty, now readied themselves for a confrontation over its ratification This was merely the first stage and an embittered Katō now began to plan a campaign to prevent the signing and ratification of the treaty. Notes 1 For coverage of internal matters at London and relations between London and Tokyo during the conference see Unno Yoshiro, Nihon Gaikōshi,_ Vol 16: Kaigun Gunshuku Kōshō, Fusen Jōyaku, (Tokyo 1973), pp. 133–262, a study principally based on diplomatic documents. For a view based on naval sources see Asada Sadao. ‘Nihon Kaigun to Gunshuku: Tai-Bei Seisaku o meguru Seiji Katei’, in Hosoya Chihiro, Saitō Makoto (eds.), Washington taisei to Nichibei kankei, (Tokyo, 1978), especially pp. 389–398. See also Kobayashi Tatsuo, ‘Kaigun Gunshuku 19181936’, in TSM, especially pp. 53–100. 2 From Katō Kanji to Makino Nobuaki, 29/1/1930 Makino Papers, National Diet Library Tokyo. 3 Katō Hirokazu (ed.), Showa 4-nen Rondon Kaigun Jōyaku Hiroku—ko-Katō Kanji Taisho Ikō (Tokyo, 1956). A complete printed version is to be found in Sakai Keinan, Eiketsu Katō Kanji, (Tokyo, 1979), pp. 149–208, especially pp. 142–145. Figures in parentheses after Katō Kanji Nikki indicate pages in Sakai’s book. Katō Kanji Nikki, 5/2/30, (p. 152). 4 Katō Kanji Taisho Denki Hensankai (eds.), KKD, (Tokyo 1941), pp. 892–893. 5 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 8/2/30, (p. 152). 6 op. cit., KKD., pp. 893–894. 7 ibid. 8 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 16/2/30, (p. 153). 9 ibid. 4/3/30. 10 ibid. 10/3/30. 11 Ikeda Kiyoshi, ‘Rondon Gunshuku Mondai Nikki Kaisetsu’, in Okada Teikan (ed.), Okada Keisuke Kaikoruku, (Tokyo, 1977), p. 245.


12 A good description, in English of the events leading to the Reed-Matsudaira compromise proposal is James Crowley, Japan’s Quest for Autonomy: National Security and Foreign Policy 1930–1938, (Princeton, 1966), pp. 51–56. 13 Premier Hamaguchi continually emphasized to Admiral Okada and Deputy Navy Minister Yamanashi that all four plenipotentiaries (which therefore included Navy Minister Takarabe) had signed the telegram and therefore ‘approved’ of its contents. The telegram actually arrived in Japan on the 14/3/30. 14 This conclusion was based on a ‘de facto’ ratio of 70% (69.75) until at least 1936, op. cit., Crowley, p. 55. However this calculation incorporated 100% in submarines for Japan. Japan was negotiating on submarines separately based on ‘existing strength’ not a ratio. 15 op. cit., TSM, Vol. 1, p. 69. 16 The Chief and Vice Chief of the Naval General Staff Katō Kanji and Suetsugu Nobumasa, Deputy Navy Minister Yamanashi Katsunoshin and Admiral Kobayashi Seizō. 17 op. cit., TSM, p. 78. 18 ibid., p. 78. 19 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 15/3/30. (p. 153). 20 op. cit., TSM, P. 78. 21 Thomas F Mayer-Oakes, Fragile Victory: Saionji-Harada Memoirs, (Detroit, 1968), p. 96. 22 Raymond G O’Connor, Perilous Equilibrium: The US Navy and the London Conference 1930, (Kansas 1962). Preface. 23 The literature on the inter-war naval limitation conferences and especially the London Naval Conference of 1930 abounds with references to two opposed groupings: the Kantai-ha (Fleet Faction) and the Jōyaku-ha (Treaty Faction). Other terms, often used interchangeably with the above are Kyōkō-ha(hard-line) or Gunrei-ha (Command Faction) versus Onken-ha (Moderate Faction or Gunsei-ha (Administrative Faction). In general these labels are attached to the two sides which emerged from splits in the Imperial Japanese Navy during or after the Washington Conference. The former group, Kantai-ha/Gunrei-ha/Kyōkō-ha usually refers to groupings of naval officers who opposed naval limitation and especially the ratios agreed at Washington and particularly London (1930). They are usually assumed to be located within the Naval General Staff or supportive of that organisation. The latter group, usually located in or supportive of the Navy Ministry supported the Government’s decisions to accept the treaty restrictions set at Washington and London. The Kantai-ha and its variants are generally regarded as being guided by narrow, professional, technical/strategic imperatives whilst the Jovaku-ha were regarded as more internationalist and cosmopolitan. It is suggested here that these distinctions are inappropriate and at times misleading. First, the opposing forces in the naval limitation debate were not limited to naval officers, serving or retired. Second, that certainly the Kantai-ha/ Jōvaku-ha distinction was not one used by naval officers at the time although there was another Kantai-ha which had existed since the Meiji era (see David Evans thesis listed in the bibliography). Third, that these distinctions do not take into account changes over time by various individuals or indeed organisations. The distinctions may have had some utility at the macrolevel but, as with many such devices, they


prove less useful and even misleading at the micro-level and therefore impair understanding of and oversimplify exceedingly complex matters. There can be little doubt that there was, in the 1920s (or even before) a growing schism within the navy along organisational lines as the Naval General Staff began to challenge the historical domination of the Navy Ministry especially in command related matters (Gunrei). This split is often labelled Gunrei-ha vs Gunsei-ha. Although not totally limited to naval officers the competition was essentially an internal naval matter. It is clearly linked to the naval limitation issue especially if one accepts my suggestion that the 1920s split within the navy was an organisational one with the naval limitation dispute within the navy seen as a symptom (rather than a cause) of that split. Awareness of this particular dichotomy should possibly be borne in mind when examining the opposing sides in the debates during the London Treaty crisis and its aftermath. However, here let us examine another and possibly more rewarding distinction in terms of the naval limitation issue in Japanese naval and domestic politics. Namely a pro-treaty and anti-treaty faction. ‘Pro-Treaty Faction’ will denote those people, important to the decision-making process, whether civilian or military, who ultimately believed that a treaty must be concluded for Japan’s domestic or international well-being and even security. This group therefore can include people whether they approve or disapprove of the 1930 Reed-Matsudaira compromise or not since the principal aim is a successful treaty. Using this approach we can therefore differentiate between ‘hardliners’ and ‘softliners’. The former group may include those who did not wish to accept the treaty based on the ‘American proposals’, believed the Reed-Matsudaira compromise was not the final offer and that standing up to the Americans would gain further concessions. They basically wished to ‘push again’ and probably went into the negotiations believing that the Three Principles’ represented something very close to what they would ultimately receive and that it was the maximum they would concede or put another way the ‘floor’ in terms of negotiations, Soft-liners on the other hand thought almost entirely in terms of a successful treaty, accepted the Reed-Matsudaira as a final offer and feared the consequences of calling the Americans’ bluff and possibly being blamed for disrupting the conference. This would be very detrimental to Japan’s image and/or would damage them in domestic politics. I would suggest that they regarded the Three Principles’ as a ‘ceiling’ on their achievements, the best they could possibly achieve and always expected to make major concessions. Prime Minister Hamaguchi, Foreign Minister Shidehara, Genrō Prince Saionji and Admiral Saitō Makoto clearly belong in the ‘soft liner’ category. On the other hand, Admiral Okada is normally grouped with these men but in fact seems initially to have been in the ‘hardliner’ group who advocated continually for the Japanese to ‘push again’. An even bigger shift took place concerning Admiral Prince Fushimi. He certainly moved from anti-treaty to hardline pro-treaty in late March/early April before later returning to the anti-treaty groupings. Ranged against these men (and often their organisations such as the Court, Foreign Ministry and the Navy Ministry were the anti-treaty forces. Here again the distinction between ‘hardliners’ and ‘soft-liners’ may be useful. Many ‘hardliners’ in this group took the extreme stand that there should be no treaty at all on either capital ships or all ships even advocating that the Washington Treaty ratios should


be scrapped. They certainly regarded the Three Principles’ as the ‘floor’ in terms of negotiation and on which there was no possibility of compromise. Katō and the Naval General Staff would be generally regarded as being in this group by many people then and now. The ‘soft-liners’ in this case would be those who would have preferred not to sign limitation agreements limiting Japan’s naval strength, who disliked the ‘inferior ratio’ but who could see some possible advantages to naval limitation if a ‘reasonable’ agreement could be reached. Nevertheless they regarded the Three Principles’ as the maximum concession they would make and very close indeed to the ‘floor’ in terms of negotiations. Nevertheless the documentary evidence does show that Katō Kanji and the Naval General Staff were willing to concede even on the Three Principles’ but not on all three Compromises were possible on overall ratios and on light cruisers and destroyers. Concessions were even possible on submarines but emphatically not on heavy cruisers. They believed firmly that Japan must push again after the Reed-Matsudaira compromise which in any case was for them an ‘American’ plan and not a compromise. They felt the Americans were bluffing and moreover believed that America would be prevented from making good its threats to massively expand its Navy by international opinion. These distinctions, which allow for intra-faction and even interfaction shifts by individuals and organizations over time, may prove useful than the existing distinctions. Past analyses of cleavages arising from or existing during the London Treaty debate have tended to be static. It is suggested here that it would not be difficult to find officers, even in the Naval General Staff, who felt arms limitation was beneficial before Washington, who still felt so after Washington but did not like the existing form (anti-inferior ratio) and who then moved into the anti-treaty camp. Organisational transfers such as Naval General StaffNavy Ministry might alter perspectives. Such things as awareness of the impact of Washington agreements or American foreign policy on Japan in the 1920s, may have caused shifts also. Moreover, it would be possible to identify major inter-factional (and intrafactional) shifts in 1930 after the ‘revised instructions were sent,’ after the treaty was signed, and after ratification. The subject, though exceedingly complex, seems worthy of further research by Japanese or Western scholars of Japan. One possibly rewarding approach would be to examine naval groupings throughout the inter-war period in terms of naval limitation/inferior ratios and, on the other hand examining the domestic crisis of 1930 in terms of differing perspectives, civilian or military on international negotiating strategies. 24 Takeuchi Tatsuji, War and Diplomacy in the Japanese Empire, (Chicago, 1935), p. 311. For a fuller analysis of Minobe see Frank Miller, Minobe Tatsukichi: Interpreter of Constitutionalism in Japan, (Berkeley and Los Angeles 1965). Katō Kanji’s son, a graduate of the elite Tokyo University Law Faculty, told me that Katō Kanji admired Minobe very much and much preferred him to Minobe’s great rival Professor Uesugi. In fact Katō’s own views on constitutional matters would seem to have been closer to the latter but Katō Kanji personally did not like him at all. 25 The best summary of the constitutional interpretations of Navy Ministry and Naval General Staff ‘experts’ is Bōeichō Senshishitsu, Rengō Kantai, (1), (Tokyo, 1976) pp. 232–251. herafter referred to as Rengō Kantai (1)


26 op. cit. Mayer-Oakes is a translation of the Saionji-Harada Memoirs for 1930 and provides a graphic account of how Prince Saionji Kimmochi (and his secretary Harada Kumao) made efforts to gather support in court, cabinet, parliamentary and military circles 27 Itō Takashi and Nomura Minoru (eds.), Kaigun Taisho Kobayashi Seizō Oboegaki, (Tokyo, 1981), p. 62. 28 Okada Nikki, 16/3/30, The diary is reproduced in Okada Teikan (ed.), Okada Keisuke Kaikoroku, (Tokyo, 1977), pp. 167239 ‘Rondon Gunshuku Mondai Nikki’, (hereafter referred to as Okada Nikki. 29 Itō Takashi, Shōwa Shōki Seiiishi Kenkyū, (Tokyo, 1969) p. 160. This fascinating study is, and will almost certainly remain, the definitive work on the domestic developments and impact of the London Naval Treaty Crisis of 1930. In English see also his essay, ‘Conflicts and Coalitions in Japan: Political Groups (and) the London Naval Disarmament Conference’ in Sven Groennings et al., (eds.), The Study of Coalition Behaviour. Theoretical Perspectives and Cases from Four Continents, (New York, 1970). 30 ibid., p. 160. 31 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 16/3/30, (p. 154). 32 The navy also sent a telegram in support of this ‘statement’ to Vice Admiral Sakonji Chief technical adviser in London on that same day. Kobayashi Tatsuo is convinced that Suetsugu acted solely on his own initiative. op. cit., TSM, p. 79. Suetsugu did try again but only a few papers carried it. 33 op. cit., Aoki, p. 109, for details. 34 op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1969), p. 439. 35 Kobayashi Tatsuo implies that the two sides used standard terms and that the antitreaty forces labelled it a Beiteian (American proposal) or Beikoku Saigoan (final American plan) whilst the pro-treaty forces called it a NichiBei Dakyōan (JapaneseAmerican Compromise plan). However, both Takarabe and Yamanashi at times referred to it as the ‘American Plan’ 36 op. cit., Mayer-Oakes p. 96. 37 op. cit., Ikeda, p. 247. 38 op. cit., Okada Teikan (ed.), pp. 168–169. 39 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 19/3/30, (p. 154). 40 op. cit., Aoki, Vol. 1, p. 10. 41 op. cit., Hamaguchi Nikki, 19/3/30, cited in Nomura Minoru, ‘Gunshuku Mondai ni kansuru Hamaguchi Shushō Nikki’, Gunji Shigaku, Vol. 12, No. 3, (December 1976), p. 77. 42 op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 97. Earlier Katō had apparently told Harada that ‘America’s attitude is as haggling as that of a street vendor. Utterly outrageous! We ought to be content with an agreement on capital ships and come home. ibid., p. 93. 43 ibid., p. 97. 44 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), pp. 225–228. 45 op. cit., Okada Nikki, 20/3/30. 46 op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 96. 47 op. cit., Okada Nikki, 20/3/30. 48 op. cit., Okada Nikki, 20/3/30. 49 op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 99. 50 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 21/3/30, (p. 154).


51 op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, pp. 116–117. This was something Prince Saionji was strongly opposed to. 52 ibid., p. 100. 53 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 225. 54 op. cit., TSM, p. 80. pp. 205, 950. refers to destroyers and light cruisers totals. An excellent tabulation of all plans is to be found in Bōeichō Bōei Kenshūjo Senshishitsu, Kaigun Gunsenbi 1 Showa Jūrokunen Jūichigatsu made. (Tokyo, 1969). (Hereafter Kaigun Gunsenbi (1). 55 op. cit., TSM, pp. 80–81 and op. cit., Ikeda, p. 249. 56 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 226. 57 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 20/3/30, (p. 154). 58 In the House of Representatives on April 30 1930, Shidehara denied that any pressure had been brought. This was certainly untrue as the British and American governments had been doing so directly and indirectly. 59 op. cit., Ikeda, p. 249. 60 ibid., p. 249. 61 op. cit., Okada Nikki, 22/3/30 and 23/3/30 (pp. 169–170). 62 op. cit., Aoki, p. 10. 63 op. cit., Okada Nikki. 64 ibid., p. 179. 65 ibid. 66 ibid. 67 Actually it was 2.00 p.m. in the afternoon. 68 op. cit., TSM, Vol. 1, P. 74. 69 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 23/3/30, (p. 155). 70 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 226. 71 op. cit., TSM, Vol. 1, p. 81. 72 op. cit., Okada Nikki, 24/3/30. 73 op. cit., TSM, Vol. 1. 74 ibid., p. 73. 75 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 25/3/30, (p. 155). 76 op. cit., Ikeda, p. 249. 77 op. cit., Katō Kanii Nikki. 25/3/30, (p. 155). 78 op. cit., TSM. Vol. 1, pp. 81–82 and op. cit., Aoki, p. 11. 79 ibid., TSM., Vol. 1, p. 82 and op. cit., Aoki, p. 11. 80 op. cit., Okada Nikki. It was actually Yamaji Jōichi a leading member of the Minseitō Party bureaucracy. 81 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 26/3/30. (p. 155). 82 op. cit., TSM, Vol. 1, p. 84. 83 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki. 27/3/30, (p. 155). 84 op. cit., Hamuguchi Nikki, 27/3/30, cited in op. cit., Nomura Hamaguchi also noted that Takarabe had advocated that Japan push again but that this was in his capacity of Navy Minister and not as a Plenipotentiary. 85 op. cit., Aoki, p. 12. 86 op. cit., Okada Nikki. 87 ibid. 88 ibid. 89 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 29/3/30, (p. 156).


90 op. cit., Okada Nikki, p. 172. A possible reason for Prince Fushimi’s volte face is that he had succumbed to pressure from Saionji via Grand Chamberlain Suzuki who had been his superior in the navy. 91 op. cit., Okada Nikki. 92 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 29/3/30, (p. 156). 93 op. cit., Takeuchi, p. 298. 94 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 30/3/30, (p. 156). 95 Tokyo Asahi, 31/3/30. 96 op. cit., Hamaguchi Nikki, cited in op. cit. Nomura. 97 op. cit., Okada Nikki, 31/3/30. 98 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 31/3/30, (p. 157). 99 ibid. 100 op. cit., Okada Nikki. 101 op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 108. 102 op. cit., Okada Nikki. 103 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 31/3/30, (p. 157). 104 ibid. 105 ibid., Katō recorded that the message was passed on but ignored. 106 op, cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 1/4/30. (p. 158). 107 ibid. 108 op. cit., Sakai Keinan, pp. 158–159. 109 op. cit., Okada Nikki, (pp. 174–175). 110 op. cit., Hamaguchi Nikki. 111 op. cit., Aoki, pp. 69–70. 112 ibid., p. 65. For the background of the internal negotiations and the Jiji Shinpō, article see also the same author p. 14. 113 Aoki Tokuzō Taiheiyō Sensō Zenshi 6 Vols, (Tokyo, 1951). 1946 Vol. 1, pp. 15– 19, reproduces the version presented to the Emperor and Aoki also reproduces Katō’s memorial on resignation pp. 33–35. This volume contains considerable information (including original documents) on Katō Kanji and is based on cabinet papers. However, one should bear in mind that the study was commissioned by Shidehara Kijūrō whose relations with Katō during and after the London Treaty Crisis were extremely bad. 114 Japan Advertiser, 3/4/30. 115 Katō apparently drafted this personally and showed it only to the Navy Minister’s aide, Captain Koga before sending it off. op. cit., Aoki, p. 17. 116 See Katō Hirokazu (ed.), Shōwa 4-nen, 5-nen Rondon Kaigun Jōyaku Hiroku: Katō Kanji Taisho Ikō. (Tokyo, 1956). The original was hand-written and I have used the complete (printed) version in Sakai Keinan, Eiketsu Katō Kanji (Tokyo, 1979), pp. 149–208, and the text of the telegram is reproduced on page 160. 117 The compromise plan did give Japan a 10:7 ratio in auxiliaries in practice (until 1936) but not in principle.

CHAPTER 8 Katō and the Treaty Ratification Issue

Katō and those opposed to the ‘American plan now shifted their energies to preventing the ratification of the Treaty indicating that whilst they may have lost a battle they still believed that they could win the overall campaign. The government and the ‘hardliners’ within the navy were now to find themselves involved in a long drawn out and often acrimonious struggle over ratification which lasted almost six months and caused a series of domestic political crises and placed great strains on civil-military relations as well as intra-navy relations. During this period the government came under attack from sections of the military, reservists, the Opposition Party (the Seiyūkai), right wing forces in the Diet and sections of the press. The more serious threats to the government’s position, however, came from the Supreme Military Council, and especially the Privy Council. Katō had two main options if he and those of like mind were to prevent the government ratifying the treaty. First, he could directly influence the military organizations in which he occupied a powerful position. These were the Naval General Staff and the Navy Ministry but also included the military advisory bodies, namely the Supreme Military Council and the Board of Fleet Admirals and Field Marshals. Katō was a member of the Supreme Military Council and also was close to Admiral Tōgō, the only naval officer on the Board of Fleet Admirals and Field Marshals. His other option was to enlist the anti-government, anti-treaty forces outside the military, especially in both chambers of the Diet and in the Privy Council. The Privy Council had, traditionally, been involved in treaty ratification and Katō had considerable support amongst the Privy Councillors. Thus, it was with this powerful body that Katō’s greatest possibility of preventing ratification lay. Katō could aid these various groups and organisations in two ways. He could endeavour to forge a favourable consensus based on his interpretation of the correct procedures for decisions on naval strength levels within the navy and the Supreme Military Council. Second, directly and indirectly, by his words and deed (and even omissions) he could provide ammunition to civilian anti-


treaty, anti-government groupings. In the latter case a sufficient public outcry might cause the government to retreat. The Privy Council was seen by most people as the organisation most likely to defeat the government on the Treaty issue, provided it was consulted and especially if the Supreme Military Council also reached a decision critical of the government’s handling of the treaty. Katō’s first major task after the instructions were sent, had been to divert the wrath of Premier Hamaguchi and Navy Vice Minister Yamanashi away from Vice Admiral Suetsugu. On 16th April, Katō finally managed to restrict Suetsugu’s punishment to an internal reprimand from Katō himself. He called this a ‘moral responsibility’ and this temporarily averted calls for Suetsugu’s dismissal.1 On 21 April, one day before the treaty was signed, Deputy Navy Minister Yamanashi had been shocked by the arrival of a memorandum, officially stamped ‘Naval General Staff’ and signed by the Vice-Chief, Suetsugu. It was addressed to the Deputy Navy Minister and stated: Since the quantity of auxiliary vessels for the Empire contained in the London Naval Treaty draft is insufficient as the minimum naval strength for defence of the Empire’s defence the Naval General Staff cannot agree to this treaty.2 Hori Teikichi, Chief of the Navy Ministry’s Naval Affairs Bureau received the document and it was then passed via Captain Koga to Yamanashi. Yamanashi was unable to contact Suetsugu since he was ‘indisposed’ and he immediately contacted Okada to see if he would try and persuade Katō to retract the ‘notification’. Katō explained the background of the memorandum to Okada as follows: In the (original) draft from this notification it was to be from the Chief of the Naval General Staff to the Navy Minister pro-tem (Hamaguchi). But after considering it further I changed it to ‘from Vice-Chief to Deputy Navy Minister’. I do not wish this notification to be seen by the Navy Minister pro-tem. I will show Takarabe after his return. The reason why the memorandum was issued on 21 April was that I had hoped to resign before the signing of the treaty. However, since there are opinions to the effect that I ought not to submit my resignation to a Navy Minister protem. I am waiting a little longer for the opportunity to do so.3

KATŌ AND THE RATIFICATION 251

Katō wrote in his diary that Okada appealed, on Yamanashi’s behalf, for the notification to be withdrawn but ‘I firmly rejected this’.4 Yamanashi therefore decided to ‘pigeonhole’ the report until the Navy Minister returned from London and it was not passed to Premier Hamaguchi. The incident is significant since there was now an official notification from the Naval General Staff to the Navy Ministry rejecting the strength allocated in the treaty. It also indicated that Katō had initially intended this notification, along with his resignation, to be one last obstacle to the signing of the treaty. He then altered his strategy and the document and his imminent resignation now became the first broadside in a major anti-ratification campaign. KATŌ AND THE DIET Initially, the Treaty issue had been considered a ‘supra-party’ question by the political parties. The Seiyūkai had given an undertaking that they would not make the London Treaty an issue in the February General Election. The Minseitō emerged from that election in February 1930 with a massive majority, and the Seiyūkai now took the offensive and attacked any weak points in the government’s handling of the naval limitation issue. The Seiyūkai had attempted to pass a resolution in the previous Diet session ‘upholding the three fundamental principles’ but had failed when the 57th Diet was dissolved that same day. However, Hamaguchi, Saionji and other pro-treaty supporters were well aware that the government’s handling of the negotiations would have to be skilfully defended in the Diet. Apart from the Seiyūkai’s failure over the Diet resolution, Prince Saionji had enlisted the help of Prince Konoe to block a move in the Upper House to declare 70% as national policy during the previous diet session. The Special Session of the 58th Diet opened on 23 April amidst rumours of a major anti-government offensive by the Seiyūkai in the Lower House and by Seiyūkai and naval sympathisers, including retired officers, in the Upper Chamber. The Diet had no authority on treaty matters although it could carry a vote of ‘no confidence’ in the government. This was most unlikely in the Lower House because of the Minseitō’s commanding majority, but it was more of a possibility in the Upper Chamber which was not organized in the same way in terms of political parties. Hamaguchi did, of course, have certain ‘understandings’ with members of the House of Peers but there was a greater risk of a censure motion in that chamber, given its more conservative, rightist, pro-military complexion. However, censure motions were not real danger it seems and both houses presented threats to the government’s handling of the treaty negotiations in different ways.


Just before the new session commenced, the Seiyūkai intimated that it was preparing an offensive against the government’s handling and the content of the ‘reply’ instructions. As the Harada-Saionji Memoirs show, rumours were circulating that the attack would be based on one of two possibilities. The first was an attack on palace officials and the government f or their alleged ‘blocking’ of Katō’s appeal to the throne prior to the reply. This was regarded as evidence that the government and court officials had interfered with the military’s constitutional ‘right of direct access’ to the Emperor.5 The second was that the government had ignored the advice of the Naval General Staff as shown in Katō’s press statement on 2 April, that national defence could not be guaranteed by the naval strength in the government ‘reply’.6 Premier Hamaguchi’s first tactic was to ensure that Admiral Takarabe did not return to Tokyo until the special session of the Diet ended.7 Thus, all interpellations on constitutional matters relating to the ‘supreme command’ could be handled by himself as acting Navy Minister. The Seiyūkai strategy was clever but short-sighted. Since they lacked adequate numbers in the Lower Chamber to censure the government, their best hope lay in driving a wedge between the military authorities and the cabinet. If this happened, the opposition might provide sufficient grounds for alienating the military from the government. This was to be achieved by indicating how the cabinet had impinged, if not infringed, on the military’s constitutional rights. Then, the military might withdraw their cabinet representatives, refuse to appoint successors and bring down the cabinet. Alternatively, they might force the statements which could later be used by the Privy Council or the advisory military bodies to censure the cabinet. In such a case the government might well fall. The problem with such strategies was that the Seiyūkai, whose leaders had previously been active in trying to bring the military under parliamentary and eventually party control, now embarked on a pragmatic policy which threatened to restore the military’s insulation from political control. In other words a victory for the Seiyūkai by these means would result in a setback for party cabinets. The opposition party even supported the military when it objected to the cabinet appointing a civilian as Army Minister protem, on behalf of the bedridden General Ugaki. This prevented the 58th Diet from witnessing both services being headed by civilians, albeit temporarily.8 No matter how skilfully the opposition presented its case as ‘concern for constitutional issues’ and ‘national defence’, the real motivation behind the attack was to bring down the Minseitō government. But it should be noted that the Minseitō had previously resorted to similar tactics over the Kellogg-Briand Pact.9


Hamaguchi deliberately and skilfully evaded constitutional questions concerning the ‘reply’ to London in the Diet. This laid him open to the criticism that such a tactic was not in keeping with the development and practices of constitutional government. Nevertheless, it was a well thought out, if risky, parliamentary strategy which was ultimately to prove successful. Hamaguchi’s tactics immediately created controversy and further alienated the Naval General Staff and especially Katō Kanji On the opening day of the 58th Diet, Foreign Minister Shidehara’s traditional opening speech was largely devoted to the London Conference. He stated: None but extreme pessimists could possibly contend that the amount of strength to be allotted to Japan during the period ending in 1936, will prove fatally short of the needs of our national security. Taking fully into account the views of our naval experts we have finally adopted the decision to join in the present treaty.10 Katō noted his displeasure in his diary, writing, ‘Shidehara spewed out an irrational statement’. He angrily told Harada Kumao that: Shidehara’s speech on foreign affairs in the Diet the other day is highly provocative and defiant. It was aimed directly at the Naval General Staff. Before the government dispatched the instructions to the delegation in London, they ought to have listened to our views on this matter; and yet when I had wanted to present explanations at meetings of the cabinet, I was prevented from attending. They constantly talked behind my back, and told me only two hours before dispatching the instructions that they were going to do so. They are altogether defiant of the (Naval) General Staff. It would have been acceptable if they had allowed me to have my say and then had given me to understand before the instructions were issued that there was no alternative after considering the matter from various angles. But they didn’t even do that. The very issuance of the instructions shows a disregard for the Naval General Staff and is equivalent to ignoring the prerogative of supreme command. Can I stand by and allow decisions on the national defence to be made in this way.11 The leader of the Opposition, Inukai Tsuyoshi, launched a major Seiyūkai attack when he cited Katō’s statement of 2 April and he used it to challenge the government’s assertions on the treaty.12 Hamaguchi calmly replied that


‘irrespective of the statement in question’ the government was responsible to the Diet for national security and that the treaty did not endanger national security. Hamaguchi then proceeded to refuse to divulge the contents of Katō’s appeal to the throne, the extent to which the Naval General Staff ‘s views had been taken into consideration, the constitutional basis on which the decisions had been made and the details of the internal negotiations or the instructions to the delegation to London.13 In a quite remarkable display of political nerve he held firmly to the line that the Diet was not within its rights in demanding such information, some of which in any case the government was not empowered to obtain, let alone release. But on 27 April he made a slight change to his previous statements by claiming that: In proceeding to conclude the treaty, the government thoroughly explored the views of the naval authorities,…the chief of the naval general staff participates in planning the logistical estimates of national defence. His responsibility, however, does not extend into the whole realm of national defence.14 On 30 April, Hamaguchi told the Lower House Budget Committee that ‘there was no conflict of views between the government and the naval staff at the time’.15 The House of Peers however presented more of a threat to the government. Hamaguchi had studiously avoided providing any constitutional basis or justification for his acts in the elected Lower House but he did go further under rigorous questioning from peers. In reply to General Shimizu Kōichirō, the Premier stated: …that the instructions issued to the delegation embodied the government plan, that it was no more a Foreign Office plan than it was an Admiralty plan, that it was the responsibility of the cabinet under Article LV of the Constitution.16 He told Dr Hanai Takuzō of the Upper House Budgetary Committee on 10 May that the constitutional basis for decisions had been the treaty making power of the throne based on the responsible advice of the cabinet. However neither house succeeded in eliciting any comment from Hamaguchi or his cabinet on matters relating to Articles 11 and 12 of the Constitution, those articles referring to supreme command matters. During the Diet debates, Katō and his Naval General Staff became more and more incensed with the statements of both Shidehara and Hamaguchi.


Anti-treaty forces in the navy provided documents and other information for attacks on the government inside and outside parliament. Katō Kanji and his staff had also been extremely active in military circles prior to and after the opening of the Diet and Katō had concentrated most of his energies there, refraining from any major involvement with the political parties especially the opposition.17 KATŌ’S AND TAKARABE’S RETURN During the final days of the 58th Diet Takarabe had remained in Korea. During this time he had received numerous messages from various emissaries as well as telegrams from pro-treaty and anti-treaty forces. Takarabe had ignored the pleas of the Naval General Staff to return home earlier although, significantly, Katō had not urged this in his message carried by Captain Koga. This officer carried messages from Hamaguchi, Shidehara, Okada, Yamanashi and Saionji among others. Katō contented himself with sending news of his impending resignation via one channel and telling Koga to tell Takarabe: In these proceedings you know what I have been enduring. Since Shidehara has said foolish things I am doing some rethinking. Please carry my greeting to the Minister.18 Takarabe had been urged to avoid the press prior to his return. Whilst in Korea he was a guest of Saitō Makoto and throughout this period the Governor-General had been speaking to the press, supporting the treaty agreement and attacking the irresponsible behaviour of Katō and the Naval General Staff. Takarabe was undoubtedly apprehensive about his reception on his return. especially within the navy. He had arrived home after the naval experts and their comments and criticisms of his vacillating behaviour in London were well known. Moreover, Takarabe had ignored the pleas of the Naval General Staff to return as soon as possible and his extended stay in Korea intimated he was now aligned with the government against the Naval General Staff. Takarabe was well briefed regarding calls for his resignation, as well as Katō’s intention to resign and to continue opposing the treaty and take up the matter of tōsuiken kanpan (infringement of the supreme command). Despite their long friendship, he was well aware that resolving internal naval problems with Katō would be difficult, if not impossible.


Prior to their discussions, two violent incidents associated with Takarabe’s reception occurred, which indicated to him that right wing elements and certain younger naval officers welcomed neither the Navy Minister nor the treaty terms. As he disembarked at Shimonoseki, Takarabe was presented with a dagger in order that he atone for his ‘failure’ in London in the proper manner. Shortly after his arrival in Tokyo a young Lieutenant Commander, attached to the Naval General Staff, committed seppuku (ritual disembowelment) as a protest over the treaty. Such incidents were perhaps early indications of the potential for violence, associated with those who perceived events at London as ‘submitting to Western domination’. They may be regarded as a harbinger of the overt violence of the ‘young officers’ and the extreme right wing in the 1930s. Katō himself was very moved by the suicide of the young naval officer, who according to some sources was reputed to be rather unbalanced. Katō was moved to publicly praise him and attended his funeral service viewing him as a ‘martyr’ to the cause of those opposing the treaty. Okada, whilst he undoubtedly understood Katō’s response, took Katō severely to task for actually saying so in public.19 Katō wrote later that: Navy Lt. Cdr. commits suicide. He left a note which was not announced. I got only fragments of information…It is not certain but it is (said to be) addressed to someone at the side of the Emperor.20 Katō did not elaborate, but it seems likely that this would have been a note to either Makino or Suzuki since the rumour that they had contrived to delay Katō’s report to the Emperor, was now circulating widely in Tokyo. If the true motive for the suicide was more than a protest against the treaty but against Katō’s own treatment during the negotiations, this would have been even more likely to elicit a sympathetic and emotional public statement from the admiral. In any case the officer had been a member of Katō’s department. The suicide stirred up the emotions of right wing elements and young officers in the navy as well as members of the Naval General Staff. In the latter’s case, it simply hardened their resolve to prevent treaty ratification. Takarabe arrived in Tokyo on 19 May and Katō immediately presented the Navy Minister with a formal written resignation. They met again on 20 and 21 May when Katō again reiterated his determination to resign.21 During these discussions, Katō raised the connected matter of whether the government had infringed the ‘right of supreme command’ of the Chief of the Naval General Staff by its handling of the ‘revised instructions’. Such a serious matter naturally necessitated further consideration by the Navy


Minister as well as consultation with Navy Ministry and government personnel. On 22 May, at their fourth meeting, Katō was extremely frustrated by Takarabe’s evasiveness and seeming inability to comprehend the grave improprieties of the government and spoke harshly to the Navy Minister ‘even though he could not bear to do so in his heart’.22 This meeting created a considerable impact and the following day the Commander-in-Chief, Combined Fleet, Yamamoto Eisuke, visited Katō and urged the two leaders to reach a compromise but Katō wrote that, since ‘it was not a private matter, I rejected his advice’.23 That same day Takarabe was also busy. Adachi Kenzō, the Home Minister, had visited him and questioned him on the ‘supreme command’ matter since fears were growing for the safety of certain key figures as the political situation became more volatile.24 Takarabe explained to Adachi that since there had been no objection by the Chief of the Naval General Staff over the reply, there could not be any infringement of the supreme command. Admiral Yamamoto Eisuke also visited Takarabe and complained about the government ignoring the wishes of the military authorities.25 Takarabe explained the situation before and after dispatch of telegrams and assured Yamamoto that he did not believe the military authorities had been disregarded. Yamamoto returned to Katō who said, cryptically: If the Prime Minister and the like have such an opinion as the Navy Minister said then the supreme command problem would not have occurred.26 Katō then added that he regretted he had not been more positive on 1 April. On 24 May, Katō recorded that Takarabe came to work but avoided meeting him and Admiral Viscount Ogasawara reported that Fushimi had been visited by Takarabe. Ogasawara regarded this as a disgraceful state of affairs.27 On 25 May, a Kempeitai (military police) chief, visited Katō and offered protection. There was certainly an increased danger to officials such as Count Makino as rumours of palace obstruction increased, but protection for Katō seemed rather unnecessary unless in fact it was a ruse to permit closer monitoring of Katō’s movements. Harada Kumao had heared that Katō and Suetsugu were already under surveillance.28 Katō not surprisingly declined the offer.


THE NAVAL STRENGTH ISSUE The last days of May saw a shift in naval developments as Katō now sought to persuade Takarabe to accept the Naval General Staff interpretation of Article 12 of the Constitution. Katō’s aim was to establish that items under Article 12 were to be decided on the basis of agreement between the Navy Minister and the Chief of the Naval General Staff.29 On 28 May, Katō and Takarabe had agreed that Katō’s resignation and the supreme command matter were to be treated as separate issues. Then Katō presented a document to Takarabe and asked for his agreement. The document stated: The amount of power and organisation are matters of Taiken under Article 12 and are matters for the joint advice of the service minister (the cabinet) and the Chief of the Naval General Staff (or Chief of the General Staff) and cannot be approved and decided by one side alone.30 This was a clever device to sanction a practice previously only accepted in the army. Hitherto, the Navy Minister had exercised sole authority in this area. Such an alteration in existing practice would be a significant diminution in the Navy Minister’s power under Article 12. Katō recorded that: Met Takarabe, made him swear that Article 12 of the constitution was for the joint advice of Navy Minister and Chief of the Naval General Staff and told Prince Fushimi the same day.31 Katō may have believed that he had obtained Takarabe’s agreement to the Naval General Staff draft but subsequent events indicated that this was not quite the interpretation Takarabe put on events. Takarabe’s first response after seeing Katō, was to have Hori Teikichi draft a Navy Ministry version purporting to clarify the procedures for deciding the naval strength.32 The Hori draft had, as its preamble, an extract from regulations on areas of jurisdiction between the Ministry and the Staff. It stated that in deciding the amount of strength the Navy Minister ought to have obtained agreement from the Chief of the Naval General Staff. Hori’s considerable legal skills are reflected here in the subtle shifts in meaning, whereby the actual power of decision still rested with the Navy Minister, that he ‘ought to’ have rather than ‘must have’ the agreement of the Chief of the Naval General Staff and finally that agreement was not a precondition for a decision and in effect could be reached retrospectively.


On 29 May, the Supreme Military Councillors gathered to discuss the ‘supreme command’ problem and the ‘naval strength’ issue.33 The Navy Minister began by expressing his respect for the opinions of the Chief of the Naval General Staff on the naval strength issue. He then showed members a draft of the Navy Ministry version. After lunch, Katō explained in detail the events at the time of the government ‘reply’ as well as the interpellations which had taken place in the diet and then submitted the Naval General Staff ff opinion regarding a joint agreement on naval strength. Having examined these Okada stated that there were certain points in Katō’s draft which were unclear, whilst the Navy Ministry draft was exceedingly clear and he would prefer the latter. Okada had discussed it at length with Takarabe prior to the meeting.34 Okada supported the Navy Minister, since he realized that the Katō version would increase the likelihood of further navy/government clashes over decisions regarding naval strength. However, Okada and the Navy Ministry were determined to further reduce any advantage which might accrue to Katō as a result of the Naval General Staff interpretation. Katō was most concerned lest the new version did not permit him to bring the government to account over ignoring his advice at the time of the ‘reply’. Katō suggested that something needed to be done on this but Okada dismissed him saying: There is no need. This is a matter which is limited to the navy and has no connection with the government’.35 Thus the pro-treaty forces within the navy now launched a two-pronged attack on Katō’s understanding of the relationship between the Navy Minister and the Chief of the Naval General Staff relating to naval strength decisions. They had altered the wording and subtly changed it back to something more favourable to the Navy Minister. But, in addition, even if Katō was now able to over-rule the Navy Ministry draft, the document would only be acceptable internally and would not be binding on the government. This latter point was crucial in that eventually a version closer to Katō’s was accepted but Hamaguchi was able to dismiss it by regarding it as only an internal naval ‘understanding’ which did not affect cabinet decisions. Moreover, the decision was seen to be binding on future agreements but not to be interpreted retrospectively. This effectively absolved Hamaguchi as Navy Minister protem, from requiring Katō’s agreement on the naval strength in the ‘reply’ on 1 April. In the main, Katō was victorious over the naval strength issue but it was unfortunately something of a ‘pyrrhic victory’. The real reason he succeeded was that reports were reaching the Supreme Military Councillors of considerable unrest in the fleet. This has been caused by the treaty decision but had escalated due to the growing split between the Navy Ministry and the Naval General Staff. It was therefore urgent that an internal document be


circulated showing that there was a unity of opinion between Katō and Takarabe on the navy strength issue. As a result of pressure from Tōgō, Fushimi and Katō, the phrase stating that when the Navy Minister decides the naval strength he must have the agreement …was altered and the term ‘Navy Minister’ deleted. It was therefore read ‘when the navy strength is decided’ thus weakening the power of the Navy Ministry. On 2 June, Takarabe obtained Imperial approval for Navy internal regulation 157 which stated: In accordance with established practice, when the navy strength is to be decided, there ought to be agreement between the Navy Minister and the Chief of the Naval General Staff36. In the short term the pro-treaty forces were able to contain the opposition over this naval strength issue but in the long term it provided the impetus for a concerted and successful attack on Navy Ministry supremacy within the navy. Katō had therefore achieved recognition that the agreement of the Chief of the Naval General Staff was necessary on decisions relating to naval strength. His aim had been twofold: to establish a naval understanding which could be utilized for attacks on Hamaguchi’s arbitrary actions in a formal Supreme Military Council and in the Privy Council; and to ensure that such a thing would not occur again. This revised internal regulation was to be more effective in the latter case. The press covered these meetings in some detail but the papers interpreted such information as they were able to glean, to indicate that the Katō-Takarabe ‘clash’ in the Council was related directly to who had the right of decision on naval strength, the Chief of the Naval General Staff or the government. This probably reflected, intelligent speculation rather than ‘leaks’ from those present at the meetings. Having satisfied themselves that this issue was now settled, which was inaccurate, the press returned to speculation over the impending resignation and dismissals of navy personnel involved in the treaty dispute. KATŌ’S RESIGNATION Despite achieving an increase in the power of the Chief of the Naval General Staff within the navy on decisions on naval strength, Katō Kanji still intended to resign. Katō had been considering this at least as early as 2 April 1930, if not before. Given his determined opposition to the ‘revised instructions’ it was perhaps natural that others considered that Katō might have resigned even before the government ‘reply’ was sent. Okada recalled


that on meeting Admiral Prince Fushimi on 29 March, the Prince’s words had been ‘If they decide on such a reply it is probable that Katō will resign but it is perhaps best that he doesn’t.37 Katō had, as previously described, postponed his resignation, originally planned for 21 April, until Takarabe’s return. Okada, interestingly, indicated to Harada in late April, that Katō would resign before the Privy Council considered ratification of the treaty.38 Katō, on 27 April had visited Privy Council Vice President Hiranuma, who had advised Katō to ‘stand firm, the Privy Council will decide on the rights or wrongs of your case’. Katō also noted that on that day the papers were carrying stories of the impending dismissals of himself and his Vice-Chief Suetsugu. Harada at this time believed that ultimately Katō and Suetsugu must resign.39 On the last day of April the Nichi Nichi Shinbun speculated on the possible short-term benefits of Katō’s resignation but concluded that the navy felt that Takarabe should be the one to go. On 5 May, Katō severely criticised the government to Harada and ended by saying, ‘can I stand by and allow decisions on national defence to be made in this way’ a statement Meyer Oakes interprets as a veiled threat to resign.40 Two days later Matsushita, Chief of Naval Personnel, received two different messages to convey to Takarabe. Katō had told Matsushita to inform Takarabe that he intended to resign. However, that same day, Okada had had a long chat with Katō in which Katō apparently indicated that the Naval General Staff would not make unreasonable supplementary budget demands. Okada therefore told Matsushita to inform Takarabe that there was now no need to be in a hurry to get rid of Katō.41 After Takarabe arrived in Tokyo, Katō immediately presented his written request for the Emperor to relieve him of his post. Takarabe found the text to have certain improprieties and moreover, informed Katō that he would not be the means of presenting this to the Emperor.42 He put aside Katō’s request in order to give him more time to consider the various ramifications of Katō’s resignation and to consult others on the means and timing and of course a suitable replacement. On the same day, Hamaguchi told Harada that Yamanashi’s request to resign, conveyed to Takarabe before the latter’s return to Tokyo, was part of a strategy to force the resignation of both Suetsugu and Katō.43 The probable reason would have been that these three were to take the responsibility for the confusion during negotiations. In the days that followed, Katō repeatedly emphasized his determination to resign at the very earliest opportunity and in the heated discussions on this and the related ‘supreme command’ issue, it reached a stage where Katō felt that Takarabe was deliberately avoiding him.


The numerous conversations between Katō and Takarabe in the days after the Navy Minister’s return, were naturally of considerable interest to the press, but again the fact that leaks did not occur caused much speculation in the press. Nippon Denpo on 21 May indicated that Katō would resign over what officers of the Naval General Staff were describing as ‘an unbearable slight’ against the Naval General Staff by the government.44 Harada told Okada and Takarabe that same day, that Katō ought to go as soon as possible but they again felt that haste was inappropriate.45 The Japan Advertiser on 22 May, carried a story stating that the opinion was gaining ground that even if the government reached a compromise with Katō, he would still resign but that it would be after ratification.46 Okada who had already advised caution over Katō leaving his post had, by 22 May become concerned over the way that political intriguers were using Katō and now felt that resignation should no longer be delayed unduly. This contradicted his statement to Harada the previous day.47 Harada noted on the 23 May that ‘the right man had been found to replace Katō’ and thus the timing rather than the fact of Katō’s resignation was now the main concern of the Navy Minister and Admiral Okada.48 News of the unofficial gathering of the Supreme Military Councillors on 29 May sparked off a new wave of press speculation. The Jiji Shinbun on 26 May had carried the story that Katō had told Tōgō of his impending resignation and also that Katō and Suetsugu planned to resign together.49 A government statement indicated that it would be difficult to find a successor for Katō. This indicates how delicate the issue was since it is known from Harada that a successor had already been found some days before this statement. On the other hand, it may simply indicate that the Emperor had first to approve a successor. The day before the gathering of the navy members of the Supreme Military Council, the press were carrying the story that Katō would resign after explaining to the Council.50 By then, Takarabe had persuaded Katō that the issue of the Supreme Command and Katō’s resignation should be kept separate. There was certainly no evidence that Katō intended to resign after this meeting in his diary or in the notes of that meeting by others. After the meeting, the press perceived as a victory for Katō over Takarabe on the naval strength issue, the papers seemed to believe that Katō had been placated by a promise of a supplementary budget. This again was untrue and indicated that the public were still unaware than an agreement had been negotiated by Yamanashi with the cabinet at the time of the government ‘reply’ to London on 1 April. Takarabe’s defeat by Katō over the naval strength issue, together with the Navy Minister’s apparent compromise of his position as a cabinet officer in


the Supreme Military Council in conceding Katō’s case, was widely reported in the press. Stories began circulating that navy officers felt that Katō might well delay his resignation now that he had won a victory over Takarabe.51 On the other hand Takarabe and Okada were now of the opinion that Katō’s resignation was inevitable, imminent and indeed desirable.52 At the beginning of July, the issue of the transfer of Suetsugu and Yamanashi came to the fore causing another major clash between Katō and Takarabe. In the end, the Navy Ministry personnel chief and Takarabe came to the conclusion that Suetsugu’s transfer could only be carried out with Katō’s approval.53 Just prior to this, Yamanashi had advised that Katō be transferred to the Supreme Military Council thus retaining him on the active list. Katō, in a discussion with Okada on 2 July, agreed to a compromise on the Supreme Command issue saying: The government must apologise to the people and by this the supreme command problem will be ended. Then I will say that I can be reconciled with Takarabe but I must resign in order to save face.54 On 6 July, Katō had a very long and highly emotional meeting with Takarabe, ostensibly on Suetsugu’s dismissal but actually to do with the naval strength issue and the timing method of Katō’s own resignation. On Suetsugu, Katō felt compelled in the end to accede to the Navy Minister’s wishes but he wrote on that day: I’ll not let Suetsugu be cut down alone, I expect to resign immediately’.55 James Crowley felt that Katō’s harsh treatment by Takarabe in this meeting left Katō no choice but to resign but this appears most unlikely. On 9 July Okada met with the Navy Minister and discussed Katō’s resignation in some detail and both felt that Katō should not be replaced for some time.56 However, the Navy Ministry had now taken the necessary steps to transfer Suetsugu and Yamanashi on 10 July. That same day, Takarabe emerged from a cabinet meeting to find that Katō had received an audience with the Emperor, ostensibly regarding forthcoming manoeuvres and had caused a panic in the palace by asking the Emperor to permit him to resign. This move sent a shock wave through the political world even though papers on 10 July had hinted that Katō was not the sort of man to allow subordinates to be sacrificed for his own benefit.57 Futagami, Chief Secretary to the Privy Council and a notorious ‘leaker’ to the press, had actually hinted some days earlier that the Chief of the Naval General Staff would independently memorialise the Emperor.58 The news stunned both Takarabe and Okada since only the day before they had decided not to proceed hastily with the appointment of a new Chief of the Naval


General Staff. Katō had been very careful not to give any hint of his real intention when he asked for an audience with the Emperor, since he felt he had been outmanoeuvred previously in attempts to reach the Emperor. Katō Kanji’s resignation did cause a considerable furore but he had perhaps delayed too long for it to have a major impact on developments. His reasons for resigning were primarily personal, in the sense that he felt he had ‘lost face’ in his struggle with Hamaguchi and the pro-treaty forces. From time to time, he clearly considered using his resignation as a means of embarrassing the government but was persuaded by others to postpone the decision. In the end he resigned together with his deputy, Suetsugu Nobumasa, rather than let his subordinate take the full responsibility. This can be regarded as an act designed to further embarrass the government. However, others had decided on Suetsugu’s ‘transfer’ and it is also plausible that Katō had been outmanoeuvred. Now that a suitable replacement had been found, Katō could be made to resign by the well known tactic of firing a loyal subordinate to compel that person’s superior to resign also. Notes 1 Katō’s diaries for part of 1930 and all of 1932–37 are reproduced in op. cit., Sakai. Katō’s diary entries will, where possible, use the Sakai printed version indicating the page in parenthesis rather than the original manuscript as follows Katō Kanji Nikki, 16/4/30, (p. 161). Where no parentheses I have used the original diaries. 2 TSM, Vol. 1, P. 90, and Aoki, op. cit., pp. 22–25. 3 Admiral Okada Keisuke’s diaries for 1930/31/32 are reproduced in Okada Teikan (ed.), Okada Keisuke Kaikoroku, (Tokyo, 1977), pp. 167–239. Diary entries will indicate page numbers from this version in parentheses. Okada Nikki, 22/4/30, (p. 170). 4 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 22/4/30, (p. 162). 5 For the problem of the Supreme Command in the 58th Diet see TSM, Vol. 1, pp. 103–105. Since the Diet debates were reported extensively in the press and in the official gazette Takeuchi Tatsuji, War and Diplomacy in the Japanese Empire, (Chicago, 1935), is still a valuable study. See especially pp. 305–309. For the Seiyūkai’s tactics see Takeuchi pp. 236–255 and also Norman S Hastings, The Seiyukai and Party Government in Japan 1924–1932, Ph.D. (University of Kansas), pp. 106–118. 6 op. cit., Takeuchi, p. 307. 7 op. cit., Aoki, p. 29. 8 Hochi Shinbun, 15/5/30. 9 William F Morton, Tanaka Giichi and Japan’s China Policy, (Folkestone, 1980), pp. 157–158. 10 op. cit., Takeuchi, pp. 305–306. 11 Thomas F Mayer-Oakes (ed. and tr.), Fragile Victory (Detroit, 1968), pp. 120–121.


12 See op. cit., Takeuchi, pp. 305–309, for a succinct summary taken from the official Kanpo Gogai. 13 ibid., and also op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, pp. 129–131. 14 James Crowley, Japan’s Quest for Autonomy: National Security and Foreign Policy 1930–1938, (Princeton, 1966). 15 op. cit., Takeuchi, p. 308. 16 op. cit., Takeuchi, p. 309. 17 Itō Takashi, ‘Conflicts and Coalitions in Japan: Political Groups (and) the London Naval Disarmament Conference’, in Sven Groennings et al., (eds.), The Study of Coalition Behaviour: Theoretical Perspectives and Cases from Four Continents, (New York, 1970). Professor Itō points out that Katō Kanji was expected to be very active in the party debates but in fact refrained from so doing. 18 op. cit., Aoki, p. 32. 19 op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 139. 20 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki 20/5/30, (p. 166). 21 op. cit., Aoki, pp. 33–35 for the document and op. cit., Sakai, pp. 203–205. Katō Nikki 19/5, 20/5, 21/5 (p. 166). 22 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki. 22/5/30. 23 ibid., 23/5/30. 24 op. cit., Aoki, p. 38. 25 ibid., p. 39. 26 ibid., p. 39. 27 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 24/5/30. 28 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 24/5/30. 29 For a detailed account of the evolution of the Naval General Staff see my The Politicisation of the Japanese General Staff ‘Sheffield East Asia Research Paper No 16 (Sheffield) 1996. Regarding Gunsei (the right of administrative command) the army and navy customs were quite different. In the Army the administrative command was exercised by the Army Minister in co-operation with the Chief of the General Staff. The Chief of the General Staff had complete jurisdiction at all times over Gunrei (the right of military command). In the navy the Navy Minister had total jurisdiction over Gunsei and the Chief of the Naval General Staff had no authority. The chief of the Naval General Staff only exercised complete jurisdiction over Gunrei in wartime (provided an Imperial headquarters had been established). At all other times the ultimate authority was the Navy Minister 30 op. cit., Rengō Kantai ~1~, p. 236. 31 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 28/5/30, (p. 167). 32 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), in which Professor Nomura Minoru contends that he did not agree immediately but Katō’s diary implies that he did. Vice-Admiral Hori Teikichi’s draft response is to be found in TSM., Vol. 1, p. 128. 33 op. cit., TSM, p. 128. Navy Minister Takarabe visited Admiral Prince Fushimi and Admiral of the Fleet Tōgō bef forehand and was clearly trying to outmanoeuvre Katō. 34 op. cit., Okada Nikki, (p. 187). Takarabe first despatched his aide Captain Koga to Admiral Okada’s house to explain the situation and then, between 10.40 and 11.00 am, prior to the meeting with Katō the Navy Minister discussed matters further with Admiral Okada. 35 op. cit., Okada Nikki, 29/5/30, (p. 187). 36 op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1) p. 236.


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51 52 53 54 55 56 57

58

op. cit., Okada Nikki, 29/3/30, (p. 172). op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 119. ibid., p. 118. ibid., p. 121, note 28. op. cit., Okada Nikki, 7/5/30, (p. 181). op. cit., Aoki, p. 35. op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 134. ibid., p. 140. op. cit., Nippon Denpo, 21/5/30. Japan Advertiser, 22/5/30. op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 146. Harada had visited Okada at 6.00 p.m. that evening, Okada Nikki 22/5/30, (p. 185). op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 140. Jiji Shinbun, 26/5/30. A good summary of the press coverage of these meetings is to be found in op. cit., Takeuchi, pp. 313–322. However the press reports frequently tend to be rather speculative about these meetings behind closed doors. There seem to have been few leaks particularly where internal naval matters were discussed. Japan Advertiser, 31/5/30. op. cit., Aoki, Vol. 1, pp. 42–48. op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 151. op. cit., Okada Nikki, 2/6/30, (p. 189). op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 6/7/30, (p. 189). op. cit., Okada Nikki, 2/6/30, (p. 190). The dismissal of Suetsugu could of course have been part of a not uncommon (Japanese) strategy of firing a subordinate to force his immediate superior (Katō) to resign. op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 155.

CHAPTER 9 Katō as Supreme Military Councillor, and Treaty Ratification

On 11 June, Admiral Katō Kanji was relieved of his post as Chief of the Naval General Staff and appointed a military councillor. He was surprised and delighted since he had expected to be placed on the reserve list. His new appointment meant that he could continue as a serving officer and more importantly, could still influence events since it appeared likely that the London Treaty would be submitted to the Supreme Military Council for examination prior to ratification.1 Placing Katō on the reserve list might have decreased his direct influence on the ratification process but it would also have allowed him to be more outspoken and possibly easier to manipulate by anti-treaty political groupings such as the reserve admirals. His appointment was partially for professional reasons in that the navy could scarcely afford to lose a man of his calibre. It was also political, since Katō’s departure from the Naval General Staff would have further lowered the morale of the fleet. In addition, as a Military Councillor, Katō’s role was to take a wider perspective and thus the new position might even produce a more moderate response from him. Katō’s appointment to the Council did not increase the influence on this body of the anti-treaty forces. Katō had already been a member and his successor as Chief of the Naval General Staff, Taniguchi Naozane who now became a member was pro-treaty, a necessary prerequisite for his appointment. Thus the committee was expanded to six and Katō’s vote was effectively neutralized.2 The literature on the London Treaty Crisis abounds with references to meetings of the Supreme Military (War) Council but there is certain confusion of nomenclature, mainly in English writings on the subject. The Navy’s military councillors were undoubtedly an important and influential group within the navy but a formal meeting of this body (gunji sangiin kaigi) could only be convened by the Emperor. Informal meetings are referred to in Japanese as gunji sangikan kaigo which will be termed ‘gatherings’ in this chapter.3 Yet another confusing term was gensui gunii sangikan kaigi. This

268 KATŌ SUPREME COUNCILLOR AND TREATY RATIFICATION

was really an informal meeting of naval members of the Supreme Military Council with gensui (Admiral of the Fleet) Togo in the chair.4 Katō had already perceived the Supreme Military Council as a means of blocking the ‘revised instructions’ and had actively campaigned for a formal meeting prior to the government’s ‘reply to London in late March.5 Okada, aided by Prince Fushimi, helped the government prevent this since it had been likely that the Council would have found the government ‘plan’ defective and questioned the Foreign Ministry’s failure to reply to the navy’s counter-proposals.6 However, on 7 April, Fushimi told Katō that there should be a meeting before the government sent a ‘reply’ to London. Katō failed to obtain this meeting before the ‘revised instructions’ were sent and before the treaty was signed and thus began campaigning for a submission of the treaty to the Supreme Military Council prior to ratification. Okada however told Harada in late April, that he would do everything possible to prevent this happening. In May, Katō informed Okada that not only did he wish a meeting but that it should be the full Council with army officers as well.7 Okada and the government naturally wished to avoid this and two days after Okada and Katō spoke on this issue, Ogasawara relayed Fushimi’s meeting with Grand Chamberlain Suzuki. At this time Suzuki made it clear that court advisers would see to it that such a request for an Imperial inquiry to the Council would be blocked.8 An important gathering of naval military councillors occurred on 29 May. Itō Takashi intimates that this meeting was initiated by the navy leadership as part of its strategy ‘against Katō’s circle’.9 James Crowley states that Takarabe, immediately after a showdown with Katō in which he had rejected Katō’s criticisms of the treaty and resignation memorial to the Emperor:’… resolved that the matter should be decided by another session of the Supreme War Council’.10 The first thing to note is that this was not a session of the Supreme Military Council but an informal gathering of councillors. Secondly, it was primarily concerned with considering two differing naval interpretations on decisions on the ‘naval strength’. This was initiated by Katō and the Naval General Staff and the Navy Minister responded to that. Crowley goes on to state that the Supreme Military Council: …resolved that, as far as the cabinet was concerned, the opinions of the naval ministry could be regarded as reflecting the views of the navy. Consequently it rejected Katō’s basic legal contention, ruling that the premier could inform the Privy Council that the revised instructions of April 1 did not conflict with the professional advice of the Imperial Navy…As far as the Supreme War Council was concerned, the treaty


had been accepted by the naval ministry and this act alone gave it legal force.11 Itō Takashi wrote that the Staff and the Ministry each presented drafts on the naval strength and that a compromise sufficiently ambiguous to be acceptable to both was arrived at. He omits the fact that this was a decision reached later. Crowley, basing his conclusions on the secondary materials of Okada and interviews with Hori Teikichi completely misinterprets the situation. As to the fact that the Supreme Military Council actually ‘resolved’ anything or ‘ruled’ against Katō and in favour of the cabinet/navy ministry alliance this is gravely erroneous on number of counts. First, the impression is given that this was meeting of the official body and this was patently not so. It therefore could decide, resolve or rule on nothing. Furthermore, it did not decide against Katō at all, since it was not asked to do so and since the meeting was dead-locked over the two different drafts by Katō and Hori for the Staff and Ministry respectively. The issue discussed was a draft memorandum and was only indirectly related to Katō’s ‘memorial’ which was not considered. The balance within the Council, had it voted, would clearly have favoured Katō since only Okada spoke in favour of the Hori draft and Togo and Fushimi sided with Katō (Hori was not a member although he did attend). As to the Council finding that the cabinet could accept the Navy Ministry views as reflecting those of the navy, this is something which Takarabe, Okada and Hori may have accepted and was clearly Hamaguchi’s interpretation but it was not a conclusion reached at this ‘gathering’. Had this been the case then Takarabe and Hamaguchi would not have responded to the result of this meeting in the way Aoki describes them as doing. Aoki, using cabinet papers found that Takarabe met Shidehara and Hamaguchi prior to a cabinet meeting on the day following the gathering of military councillors and pressed that: They should adopt the policy of saying that the government having, acknowledged that it had obtained the agreement of the military, issued the reply instruction. The Prime Minister said for the third time that he approved the policy. But the Foreign Minister expressed his doubt about the Chief of the Naval General Staff agreeing and pressed the Navy Minister for confirmation to which Takarabe answered that he is confident of this showing a confidential telegram listed above and Katōs reply to it as the basis for his conclusion.12


Then in the cabinet meeting, according to Aoki, Takarabe simply mentioned the decision of the meeting of the Councillors and stated that he believed the cabinet had acted with the approval of the naval authorities. In fact the only decision the assembled councillors had made was to leave Katō and Takarabe to sort out the naval strength issue between themselves. Thus, Crowley’s assessment of the importance and decisions of this meeting are quite inaccurate and his conclusion on ‘the moderate policies of the Supreme War Council’ is, to say the least, rather misleading. Katō and Takarabe clashed again on 30 May over the naval strength issue recounted earlier. In an English language article, Itō Takashi stated that a compromise ‘sufficiently ambiguous to be acceptable to both was arrived at’.13 but in his extended treatment of the subject in Japanese he stated correctly: It was clear that this represented a considerable retreat from the Okada, Yamanashi line and was much closer to the Naval General Staff draft.14 By the beginning of June both Takarabe and Okada were inclining towards the convening of a formal meeting of the Supreme Council on the treaty issue. Okada by now was of the opinion it should take place before ratification. Katō had informed Takarabe on 6 June that he wished an Imperial inquiry to be submitted to a meeting of military councillors from both the army and the navy with a gensui in the chair (rikukaigun gensui sangikan). Its remit would be to examine the reasons behind Katō’s resignation. Katō recorded that Takarabe said at first that he had signed approval requesting the Emperor to convene a meeting of a rikukaigun sangiin (a formal meeting of the full Supreme Military Council) but that he then changed his mind preferring Katō instead to submit his reasons for resignation direct to the throne.15 The next day, Katō asked for the following to be requested as subjects for an imperial inquiry to the Supreme Military Council: 1 A formal meeting of the Supreme Military Council, with only navy members in attendance, to decide on the agreement between the Navy Minister and himself on the naval strength issue. This would be signed jointly, by both the Navy Minister and the Chief of the Naval General Staff and submitted to the Emperor. 2 Contents and procedure for the memorandum to be notified to the fleet and distributed to the government and the army. 3 On the occasion of the decision and issuance of the ‘reply’ the Navy Minister and the Chief of the Naval General Staff are to jointly draw up


and sign a document commenting on the effect which the government action had on the responsibility of the Supreme command and submit it to the throne, requesting a meeting of the full combined army/navy Council. This Council should then be consulted on the propriety of the Government’s action on the ‘reply’. 4 The Chief of the Naval General Staff is to request a meeting of the Council (navy only) to decide whether the power allocated by the London Treaty presented any obstacles to national defence which would affect operational strategy and deployment.16 On the same day Katō had heard directly from Prince Fushimi of the determination of those close to the throne, namely Suzuki, Makino and Saionji, to block any request for an Imperial inquiry to the Supreme Military Council. Katō’s appeal to the Emperor to be relieved of his post on 10 June once more affected the strategies of both sides in the dispute. Itō Takashi has suggested that: In early June then having disposed of the problem of the prerogative of the supreme command, Navy Minister Takarabe discharged Chief of Staff Katō and the Vice-Chief. This done he intended to go on and hold a military councillors’ conference on the subject of the treaty.17 This is somewhat misleading and attributes too much to Takarabe when it is clear that the Navy Minister was, for most of the time, paralysed with indecision. The supreme command problem had not been resolved and whilst Suetsugu the Vice Chief had been discharged on 10 June Katō had in effect forced Takarabe to accept his resignation on 11 June by his appeal to the throne the previous day. If Takarabe had removed Katō in order to hold a meeting of the Supreme Military Council, why did the Navy Minister then appoint Katō to that very body. Katō’s appointment as a Supreme Military Councillor did reduce pressure for a formal meeting of that body since normally the Navy Minister or the Chief of the Naval General Staff requested the Emperor to convene formal meetings. The appointment of Taniguchi as the new Chief of the Naval General Staff, since he had been carefully vetted beforehand by the pro-treaty forces, changed the balance within the Supreme Military Council. There were now six members and they were divided evenly into two groups, Okada, Takarabe and Taniguchi versus Katō, Tōgō and Fushimi. However, in July there were to be disputes over whether Tōgō had two votes, one as Councillor and one as Chairman.


On 16 June Katō received a visit from Count Ogasawara. He asked Katō to persuade Field Marshall Prince Kanin to side with Admiral of the Fleet Tōgō if a gensuifu (Board of Fleet Admirals and Field Marshals) was convened.18 Since Ogasawara was close to Tōgō, it seems reasonable to assume that he and Tōgō were expecting a Board to be convened rather than a Council at this time. One week later a formal gathering of the Supreme Military Council with Tōgō in the chair met at the palace. The subject of the Imperial Inquiry was the appointment of a Naval Inspector, a matter unrelated to the London Treaty.19 Katō not surprisingly, seized the opportunity to state his ‘opinion regarding the making up of defects in agreed strength’. He thought that …the Navy was at a critical point where, there was much unrest among the young officers concerning the issues of the supreme command prerogative and the total naval strength that emerged from the arms limitation talks. He feared that the pent-up frustration might be unleashed during the special inspection and this must be prevented. In order to avoid such an eventuality the questions such as naval strength, which had been particularly unsettling them, should be dealt with before the special inspection is carried out and stated: ‘This is the reason why I deigned to take this opportunity to express my opinion.’ Takarabe observed that such a matter was outside the scope of the Imperial Inquiry. Chairman Tōgō, however, then asked Taniguchi for his opinion but he too refrained from being drawn into the discussion merely saying it merited serious and further consideration. Katō replied that he was not seeking a discussion but wished to draw their attention to the urgent need to address the matter in order to ensure that there would be no impediment to the implementation of the inspection.20 Chairman Tōgō concluded the discussion by requesting Takarabe and Katō to reach some agreement on this serious matter. The following day Okada urged Taniguchi to proceed as quickly as possible with the replenishment plan in order to make up ‘defects’ caused by the treaty limitations. On 27 June, Taniguchi produced his proposals and they were basically the same as those that had been drafted during Katō’s period of office. This may have been deliberate since Katō could hardly object to a replenishment plan almost identical to the one approved whilst he had been in office. Whilst this may have been how it was perceived by Katō’s opponents, it implies Taniguchi was party to the strategy. It seems rather more likely that the opinions of naval general staff planners had not altered in two months, in


other words, presented with the same problem they would naturally arrive at the same solution! By the end of June, both sides in the treaty dispute were now much better prepared for an Imperial Inquiry on the London Treaty. Katō had a document, albeit for internal purposes, by which Takarabe agreed that naval strength decisions were to be reached by an agreement between the Minister and the Chief of the Naval General Staff. ‘He also had a written notification by the Naval General Staff rejecting the strength allocated in the treaty dated the day before the treaty was signed. Moreover, Taniguchi’s replenishment plan was essentially the same as his own had been and was ‘proof that defects did exist in treaty strengths. The government/navy ministry coalition, however, was even better prepared for an Imperial Inquiry on the treaty. Okada had been of the opinion that it would be best if the Council were convened after ratification. However he did change his mind more than once. He was basically in favour of a formal Supreme Military Council provided the Naval General Staff could be made to accept that national defence was not endangered by the treaty. This had necessitated replacing the top Naval General Staff officers; the Chief and Vice Chief, with officers more amenable to the government position and this had now taken place. In addition, by submitting a replenishment plan to make up for the defects, the Naval General Staff were effectively conceding that national defence could be secured provided the government funded the supplementary plan. Thus Okada’s conditions for a meeting prior to ratification had now been met. Katō’s appointment as a Councillor actually improved the government position in a Supreme Military Council meeting by adding Taniguchi to the pro-treaty forces in that body. However it was still not certain which military body would be convened by an Imperial inquiry. Hamaguchi and Takarabe were now inclining more strongly towards a gensuifu (Board) rather than a gunii sangiin kaigi (Council). On the last day of June Takarabe, in a meeting with leaders of the majority grouping in the House of Peers, the Kenseikai, made his current thinking on this quite clear. Responding to a statement that the opening of a Supreme Military Council on the question of naval strength ought to occur, Takarabe responded: Under the law I think that opening a Supreme Military Council is appropriate. But if the supreme command issue is discussed in that meeting it makes people’s thoughts unstable without any beneficial effects. Personally, and also from precedent, I wish to convene the gensuifu.21


Thus, once more the pendulum had swung in favour of the Board rather than the Council and one can presume that Takarabe was reflecting the wishes of Premier Hamaguchi who was following closely, the precedents set at the time of the Washington Conference, rather than the advice of Okada who considered the Council the appropriate body It was now quite clear that an Imperial Inquiry related to the London Treaty would now be convened before ratification but which body was still unresolved. Throughout May and June, the opposing sides in the treaty dispute had continued to fence over when and how the London Treaty was to be submitted to one of the senior military advisory agencies: The Board of Fleet Admirals and Field Marshals or the Supreme Military Council. Initially, protreaty forces seem to have inclined towards delaying an Imperial Inquiry to such a body until after the Privy Council approved treaty ratification, since rejection by such august military bodies would be a most useful weapon in the hands of the anti-treaty party and especially anti-Minseito groupings within the Privy Council. The naval leadership, however, was increasingly concerned that an Imperial Inquiry now be initiated as soon as possible, meaning prior to ratification of the treaty and preferably before submission to the Privy Council. The problem was which body would the Imperial Inquiry be directed to, since there were three possibilities: The Board, the full Supreme Military Council with army and navy represented or a navy-only Supreme Military Council. The Navy Ministry-government coalition was basically in favour of convening the board The Naval General Staff and especially Katō himself favoured a formal meeting of the Council. If one analyses why a Board was preferred by pro-treaty forces, two reasons are immediately apparent At the time of the Washington Treaties, the Board had approved the treaties prior to ratification creating a precedent. Furthermore, Katō Kanji was not a member of this body and therefore would effectively have no direct influence on its deliberations. At this time there were only four members of the Board, three army field marshals Uehara Yusaku, Prince Kanin Kotohito and the bedridden Oku Yasukata and one admiral of the fleet Tōgō Heihachirō. It has been suggested that since Uehara was from the same village as Takarabe this might have been a significant factor in Takarabe favouring this body. But given that Okada and Katō were also from one village this in no way affected their being on opposing sides on the treaty issue.22 The lack of specialist expertise may also have been seen as advantageous to the pro-treaty side in any deliberations. However, it should be pointed out that this could have been a double-edged sword since there was also the possibility that the army


representatives would defer to the naval ‘expert’ Tōgō who was absolutely opposed to ratification and merely ‘rubberstamp’ his opinions. This latter factor may have influenced the government’s ultimate decision on the appropriate advisory body. Throughout early July, a series of internal negotiations were carried out between the Army and Navy Ministries and between the respective General Staff agencies. Since the naval strength in the treaty affected national def fence plans the army believed it had a contribution to make and agreed at one point that participation in either a Board or full Council was appropriate.23 However, gradually the army appears to have become nervous lest army personnel on either of these bodies be used as political pawns. Army leaders were also aware that a vote against ratification would possibly mean a naval arms race that would place greater pressure on the limited financial resources available for military expenditures. In the end, the most important factor was the attitude of Admiral Tōgō himself. He personally rejected suggestions for a Board from both the navy and the army and opted instead for a navy-only Council.24 The army and particularly the General Staff concurred provided they were kept fully informed. But when it was suggested that to be fully informed and to approve what transpired might be interpreted as army support for a naval air corps expansion programme, the army distanced itself from the issue.25 It is unclear who was primarily responsible for influencing Tōgō but both Katō and Ogasawara were in favour of a Council and had the ear of the ageing Tōgō. Katō on 3 July convinced Ogasawara that Tōgō must not take the sole responsibility for scrapping the treaty.26 Three days later he again Tōgō and told him that: A meeting of the Board or the Council is absolutely necessary. But, if it includes trhe army and the navy members there will be the disadvantage of a majority decision. From either lack of understanding or antipathy, some of them might make an ‘impure’ declaration (statement with ulterior motives) A Council comprising only navy members should be the appropriate one.27 On 14 July, the two Chiefs of Staff agreed in writing to a navy-only Council.28 Katō’s influence on this decision had been via Tōgō. That same day the navy’s ‘Big Four’, Takarabe, Taniguchi, Okada and Katō met. This was the last of a series of important meetings held almost daily to try and decide the wording of an Imperial Inquiry and the reply to such an inquiry. Katō also pressed for them to commence drafting a reply on behalf of the Council.29 These early meetings of the ‘Big Four’ of the navy were primarily


to decide the specific inquiry and the main elements in the answer and it seems that their judgement of the appropriate reply to a question on the London treaty actually determined the phrasing of the question! It is highly probable that no Imperial Inquiry would be issued normally unless the answer had already been agreed beforehand. Taniguchi refused to agree to Katō’s suggestions but Katō then suggested an informal gathering of Councillors to explain the supplementary budget and this was accepted. Katō persuaded Takarabe to agree that at the beginning of the Council’s reply to the Imperial Inquiry the phrase ‘there are defects in national defence’ would appear. This appears to have been a concession in order to soften the wording of the Imperial Inquiry. Apparently, Katō had been adamant that it be a very simple question such as ‘Is the London Treaty defective’ and that the reply state ‘grave defects’.30 Takarabe then received permission to discuss this with Hamaguchi which he duly did. Katō had reservations when Takarabe told him the Premier agreed but since Takarabe was as usual, impossibly vague, the matter was taken no further. The next day Taniguchi explained to Prince Fushimi and received his approval. However, the Prince registered his extreme dissatisfaction with the way the government had handled the ‘reply’ sent to London. Takarabe, Taniguchi and Okada now made great efforts in order to ensure that Tōgō did not stand alone and thus damage his reputation. Katō, too, was becoming increasingly apprehensive lest Tōgō be isolated and take the sole responsibility for preventing ratification. At this point, Itō Takashi states that Katō is no longer clearly in the anti-ratification camp.31 It is possible that at this point Katō can be interpreted as bowing to the inevitable or viewing things slightly differently from his new position as a Councillor only. However another possibility exists and is contained in Katō’s explanations to Count Ogasawara on 14 July. Katō, at this point tried to convince the reserve admiral and confidante of Tōgō that he (Katō) had had to concede over appending a statement to the ‘reply’ to the throne to the effect that the replenishment plan would eliminate the defects in national defence. Ogasawara was against the inclusion of details of the supplementary budget and urged that the treaty be scrapped. Katō told him: From the position of the navy’s highest leaders, it is necessary to have the utmost caution in the text of such a reply to the Emperor. To indicate that there are clearly defects in national defence without providing countermeasures merely causes anxiety to the Emperor alone, and this is irresponsible advice. I endeavoured to get ‘defects’ into the reply text and happily I succeeded. In the long run the main factor in


bringing about the agreement of the other leaders was that they would accept if there was a supplementary reply to the Emperor on countermeasures to supplement naval strength. The Privy Council, if it is loyal to its special responsibilities, must deny ratification because of the phrase ‘there are defects in national defence’.32 Katō here was being quite consistent in that he is not moving towards being so much ‘for ratification’ as against the Council and especially Tōgō being damaged by pressing for and taking responsibility for non-ratification. Also he did not wish to place the Emperor in another difficult predicament. Katō felt that his achievement in obtaining an agreement that ‘defects in national defence’ would be clearly stated in the ‘reply’ was sufficient for the Privy Council to recommend against ratification. On 18 July Katō finally persuaded Tōgō not to press for a vote against ratification in the Council although Ogasawara was still trying to incite Tōgō to block the treaty. Ogasawara and Katō had ended their previous discussions with an angry Ogasawara saying ‘regarding such a conditional reply I will prevent it by all means’.33 Ogasawara had then demanded they discuss it in front of Tōgō but Katō refusing preferring to talk with Tōgō alone. After speaking to Tōgō, Katō finally persuaded him and the latter replied that ‘it is regrettable but we cannot but do it’.34 Tōgō and Katō also agreed that Ogasawara ought not to be involved in such delicate naval matters from this point on. Katō’s attitude here, and his caution over the reply, also bear the imprint of Okada’s influence. Moreover, Katō’s efforts to prevent Tōgō from arguing against ratification were a result of Taniguchi’s direct request to Katō to try and succeed where the present Chief of the Naval General Staff had failed. Katō was to note later that people were criticizing him for softening’ in this way.35 Tōgō now agreed and requested that an informal Council be convened as soon as possible. Reassured that Tōgō would not insist that the Council reject the treaty, the ‘Big Four’ of the navy proceeded with preparations for a formal convening of a navy-only Council. Itō Takashi has suggested that the reason why the Council had moved towards avoiding an outright rejection of the treaty was the result of the tactical manoeuvres of the government and the military leaders. He feels that they had decided that if the Military Council rejected the treaty they would: ‘submit their opinion and force the Emperor to choose—in that event the Military Council people would have to resign’.36 This accords well with Katō’s growing concern that Tōgō and the Military Council would be damaged by a vote rejecting the treaty and Katō deciding to leave the responsibility to the Privy Council. Naturally, the press was full of


speculation on the ‘Big Four’ meetings and the imminent formal Military Council meeting but again the reporting was speculative rather than accurate. At the time even Harada, Saionji’s secretary, did not know the precise wording which the Imperial Inquiry would take, but it had obviously been decided during the preceding meetings of the navy’s ‘Big Four’ and was to consider: The existence or non-existence of impediments to national defence strategy in the naval strength allocated in the recent London Naval Treaty agreement and the matter of countermeasures.37 It is important to note here that Katō had mentioned a supplementary comment on replenishment measures would be appended, but the actual working incorporated the countermeasures directly into the inquiry. Harada stated that at the first meeting, a new defence plan was presented and James Crowley wrote that a naval budget was presented and unanimously approved by the Military Council thus creating a dangerous precedent whereby the Chief of the Naval General Staff ff was pre-empting the prerogative on budgetary allocation of the Premier, Finance Minister and Navy Minister.38 Both these conclusions are most misleading since what Taniguchi presented was a supplementary plan to make up deficiencies in the London Treaty. Since it was a plan and not a budget, though naturally costed, it was within the jurisdiction of the Chief of the Naval General Staff to draft. The evidence clearly shows that the Councillors were expecting previous government promises on supplementary fiscal allocations to be morally binding. Thus it was unnecessary for Crowley to imply such a ‘budget’ was not legally binding on the cabinet. At the meeting, the supplementary plan as well as the ‘reply’ to the throne were discussed. Prince Fushimi asked Takarabe if he believed this supplementary plan would be carried out. Takarabe apparently answered lamely and evasively.39 According to Harada, Katō thereupon stated: ‘such vagueness is most alarming. In this case I must put my query directly to the Prime Minister’ but Takarabe said this would be improper.40 As with so much of the Harada diaries there is a certain amount of truth in all the entries but it was Prince Fushimi not Katō who had put the query’ and Katō noted ‘because of the vacillating behaviour of Takarabe Prince Fushimi’s attitude changed rapidly’.41 Thus, it would appear that the comment ascribed to Katō here probably referred to Prince Fushimi, since even Okada did not record any comment by Katō. Taniguchi requested that Takarabe get a firmer and more positive answer from the Prime Minister. Afterwards Okada took Takarabe to task for the way he had handled Prince Fushimi’s question and


Taniguchi and Katō concurred. Kobayashi, the Deputy Navy Minister, later relayed to Harada his great disappointment with the way Takarabe had handled things even when presented with adequate materials.42 After the meeting adjourned Takarabe met Hamaguchi, Egi and later Adachi but Inoue the Finance Minister did not attend. After much discussion they agreed upon a reply which was primarily the work of Egi. Takarabe emerged from this meeting with a document, not as Crowley would have it a verbal promise, from the Premier.43 The next morning, (22 July) prior to the second official meeting of the Councillors at the Navy Ministry, Takarabe showed the document to Admiral Okada. He found the document in the main acceptable, but indicated that the promise to do their utmost, ‘within the scope permitted by financial and other circumstances’ would cause a problem with the other Councillors. He thus suggested the phrase: ‘the government will arrange the financial and other circumstances according to priority’.44 Takarabe read out the document and when finished he was attacked by Tōgō who was still dissatisfied with this ‘qualified’ promise. Tōgō now inclined again towards the ‘reply’ concluding with, ‘there are defects in national defence’ but both Okada and Katō pointed out that to state only that there were defects was irresponsible if no countermeasures were advanced. Okada noted Katō’s words to Tōgō as follows: ‘As the military authority it is irresponsible if we do not append that we are able to make up deficiencies’.45 Finally, agreement was reached unanimously, and Taniguchi empowered to proceed to Hayama and request an Imperial Inquiry to be submitted from the throne. Katō concluded the entry for that day ‘happy day for the navy’ obviously delighted with finally achieving a kind of unanimity. Harada recorded that Katō had much to say on the ‘Three Principles’ but this is not confirmed by other sources.46 Taniguchi met the Emperor at Hayama, who made it clear that the reply should not be anything that would restrict Japan at the next naval conference in 1935. A formal meeting of the Council was convened on 23 June at the Imperial Palace. The meeting lasted a mere 40 minutes since the reply had already been decided. The vote approving the reply was unanimous and the only recorded query was Katō Kanji’s on a semantic point in the text.47 Most of the 40 minutes was taken up by a discussion after the decision had been taken between Katō and Takarabe. Katō noted: When the above finished I stated to the Navy Minister my wishes regarding the disposition of the memorandum relating to the supreme command and wished these to be recorded.48


This was a reference to their ‘agreement’ on naval strength decisions procedures but Katō noted Takarabe’s reluctance to discuss this in the meeting. Nevertheless the Navy Minister conceded that: I approve completely in spirit. In any case, from now on, no matter who is Navy Minister, we will respect and carry this out.49 This was of course a major achievement for Katō since this was stated during an official Council meeting but the phrase ‘from now on‘effectively prevented Hamaguchi from being subjected to a retrospective judgement on his handling of the ‘reply’ on 1 April. The concern over whether Tōgō would have two votes or one in the final decision and whether somehow Prince Fushimi could be prevented from voting seem, in retrospect, to have been rather a ‘storm in a teacup’ since no one intended to or could vote against ratification since it lay outside the scope of the Imperial Inquiry. Taniguchi and Tōgō presented the reply to the Emperor and it was then passed to the Premier for comment. It stated clearly that there were defects in national defence according to the naval strength allocated by the treaty. However, it was qualified by details of supplementary measures to make up any deficiencies. The government was now required to provide funds for the navy to build up to treaty limits and expand in areas not limited by the treaty such as air power, improvement of training and naval facilities. The Prime Minister then added a comment, stating that the government would do its best but it was a little less positive in its wording than in the document presented by Takarabe to the Council on 23 June.50 In the end, the Supreme Military Council had not opposed ratification. Although a reassurance was sought and obtained from the government that the supplementary plans would be fulfilled, this was not a condition of the Council’s approval but it could possibly have been interpreted in that way. The stage was now set for the government to try and surmount the last and possibly the greatest obstacle to ratification, the Privy Council. There was a very strong feeling in Japan at the time that this was where the government was likely to come to grief, especially since the Privy Council had brought down a previous Minseito cabinet. Speculation over the Supreme Military Council’s reply to the Emperor did not end and details of the ‘defects’ were leaked to anti-treaty elements and ‘supplementary plans’ leaked to pro-treaty forces so that both sides were claiming a victory. Katō himself believed that since the document had stated that ‘defects’ had been created by the treaty this was sufficient grounds for the Privy Council to bring down the


Hamaguchi cabinet. Takarabe’s position was weakened by reports that he had been worsted in the unofficial meetings and had conceded to Katō on the ‘supreme command’ issue.51 Both pro-treaty and anti-treaty camps were now clamouring for Takarabe’s resignation and the question was not if, but when he would depart. The conclusion, common in the press, that the military advisory body had decided against ratification, reflected wishful thinking on the part of anti-treaty forces and over-anxiety on the part of pro-treaty forces. KATŌ AND THE PRIVY COUNCIL Hamaguchi’s decision of 24 July to submit the London Treaty to the Privy Council, gave rise to greater optimism on the part of anti-treaty and worried the pro-treaty forces. At this time, the complexion of the Privy Council was somewhat anti-party and particularly anti-Minseitō. It was led by Count Itō Miyōji, who had brought down the Wakatsuki (Minseitō) cabinet in 1927.52 This had led to calls for the revision of even abolition of this extra and preconstitutional body and the Minseitō had unsuccessfully sought a diet resolution to impeach the Privy Council. This mutual antipathy between the Minseitō and the Privy Council must be borne in mind when examining the clash between the government and this body over the London Treaty. In some respects the ‘treaty issue’ was a symptom rather than a cause of the clash. Hamaguchi, however, showed considerable political acumen and bravery in his dealings with the Privy Council and although obliged, by precedent, to submit the treaty to it for consideration, he was determined that it would be on his own terms. Katō had great hopes for his cause and believed that the Privy Council would eventually recommend against ratification. Katō was on familiar terms with a number of Privy Councillors and amongst these were two of the most powerful, Baron Hiranuma Kiichirō, the Vice-President and Count Kaneko Kentarō. Moreover, these two were amongst the most vociferous critics of the present cabinet. Itō Takashi has pointed out that Katō and Kaneko were in agreement on at least three points: opposition to American Far East strategy; agreement to Japanese demands or no treaty at all; opposition to the weak diplomacy of the Hamaguchi cabinet (Shidehara diplomacy). One might add that they were in considerable agreement on the constitutional interpretation of the ‘supreme command’ and Count Kaneko was the single most influential adviser to Katō on this subject. Katō’s relationship with Hiranuma went back at least a decade.53 However, Katōs diary shows that Kaneko was much more influential and in much more frequent contact with Katō. Katō seems to have only flirted with joining in the


political intrigues of anti-Minseitō, right-wing conservative groupings led by Hiranuma and others. In truth, Katō probably retreated from too close an alliance with politicians, not because he believed that military men should not get involved in politics but because basically he found party government distasteful. It would be more correct to say that Suetsugu was closer than Katō to Hiranuma and to the powerful Suzuki faction of the Seiyukai. Katō’s diaries offer two other interesting comments on Privy Council contacts. On 26 March, Mizumachi Kesaroku visited Katō and urged him to hold out for 70% and later, on 15 May visited Katō again to give him a report of the latest situation on the government and the treaty. From this Katō may have believed, like others, that Mizumachi was on their side, but later fears by reserve admirals that Mizumachi was weakened, add substance to Mayer-Oakes conclusion that Mizumachi was Hamaguchi’s man on the Privy Council. He was a recent Hamaguchi appointee to the Privy Council. In early June a certain Yamashita Kamezaburō visited Katō and after informing Katō that he was very close to Privy Councillor Itō Miyōji, he offered to liaise between the two men.54 However, there appear to have been no further contacts recorded between Katō and Yamashita or Itō. Katō did send materials, directly and indirectly to the Privy Council, as did Suetsugu and other members of the Naval General Staff in preparation for the ratification struggle. Katō, therefore, was not without contacts and even allies in the Privy Council and, given the expectation that the latter would cause the government great difficulties and probably come out against ratification, Katō was optimistic. In early May Katō was reported as saying: The actions of the government which disregards the power of the supreme command violate the very spirit of the Constitution. On the right or wrong of this I am anxious for His Majesty to obtain the advice of the Privy Council.55 This wording is almost exactly the same as Katō’s diary entry of a discussion with Hiranuma in late April. Just prior to Katō’s statement, Itō Miyōji had told Harada that although he was happy at the conclusion of a treaty he was ‘very troubled that the Chief of the Naval General Staff opposed it’. Harada concluded, probably correctly, that what really troubled Itō was that this ‘Katō’s opposition’ would become a problem in the Privy Council.56 Equally, Itō could have been humouring Harada and actually pleased at the prospect of causing problems for the cabinet. One week prior to the imperial inquiry to the Privy Council, Katō had explained to Tōgō’s secretary, Rear


Admiral Ogasawara, that he was hopeful that the Privy Council would recommend against ratification. Katō fully expected the Privy Council to oppose ratification and correct the injustices he himself had suffered. It would do so, he believed, by challenging the government on the basis of the Supreme Military Council’s report as well as by an examination of the events at the time of the preparation of the ‘reply’ to London on 1 April. Proceedings of the Privy Council began immediately on 24 July and developed in two stages. In the first stage, they considered the method of dealing with the inquiry and the Privy Council met six times between 26 July and 5 August. Kobayashi Tatsuo’s analysis of events indicates clearly that the deliberations had a definite anti-government colouring.57 It became clear that a quick response was out of the question to the Imperial Inquiry even in the uncomfortable Tokyo summer weather. The possibility of lengthy deliberations merely heightened speculation but it was also deliberate policy by the Chief Secretary to the Privy Council, Futagami Hyoji, a noted opponent of the treaty. He not only went through the treaty with a ‘fine tooth comb’ searching for errors to catch out the Foreign Ministry and the cabinet, but also continually ‘leaked’ information to the press favourable to the antitreaty forces and prejudicial to the cabinet.58 He held up the report for two weeks before a sub-committee was chosen. The second stage commenced with the first meeting of the examining subcommittee on 18 August and this committee met twelve times between 23 August and 17 September. On 4 August, immediately prior to the last meeting of the Privy Council in the first stage, the president of the Privy Council, Kuratomi Yusaburō, called on the Prime Minister and requested a copy of the Supreme Military Council’s report to the throne. Hamaguchi refused, stating he did not have a copy and that it was for the Imperial Court to permit it. Hamaguchi formally refused again the next day as the confused and angry Kuratomi failed to make any impact on Hamaguchi at all.59 Hamaguchi had prepared his ground very well indeed. He had been most careful to ask for the Privy Council to examine the treaty before he had officially received the Supreme Military Council’s reply to the throne for his comments (but after he knew its contents). This effectively precluded the report from the Privy Council’s deliberations. There is no evidence that Katō was aware of this move by Hamaguchi to hold back the Supreme Military Council report from the Privy Council Inquiry and then to refuse point-blank the repeated request and even ‘order’ of the President of the Privy Council to provide a copy. Had Katō known, he would have doubtless realised that one of his major achievements, namely the inclusion of ‘defects


in national defence’ in the Military Council report was now been neutralised by Hamaguchi’s tactics. On 11 August the examining sub-committee was formed. It included Kaneko Kentarō, Hiranuma Kiichirō and Mizumachi Kesaroku and was to be chaired by Itō Miyōji. Leading experts in the diplomatic and constitutional fields amongst the Privy Councillors such as Baron Ishii and Professor Tomii, known Hamaguchi supporters, were deliberately excluded. Consequently the sub-committee, unlike the Privy Council as a whole, did not have a division of pro-treaty and anti-treaty/anti-government forces. This undoubtedly pleased Katō and forces opposed to the Hamaguchi cabinet and the treaty.60 The sub-committee also felt, as the president had done, that they would not be able to reach a decision unless they saw the reply text of the Supreme Military Council memorial to the Emperor. Originally, anti-treaty forces on the Privy Council had hoped that a negative response from the Supreme Military Council could have been used in their deliberations to block ratification. Even the ‘conditional’ approval of the Supreme Military Council might have, as Katō believed, been sufficient, but this too was denied them by Hamaguchi who would not permit the document to be submitted. However, there were a vast number of issues where the sub-committee could challenge the government. Amongst the subjects scheduled for examination were the circumstances in London and Tokyo prior to and at the time of the ‘reply’; the issue of who decided naval strength; the supplementary naval budget; Katō’s own side of the story and his possible attendance at the subcommittee to give evidence and finally fiscal matters related to the treaty.61 Katō’s diary does not indicate precisely when or if he expected to be asked to attend the proceedings of the subcommittee. Vice Admiral Kobayashi, Deputy Navy Minister reported to Prince Saionji’s secretary Harada, that the Navy Minister had endeavoured to persuade Katō and Suetsugu to go on a South Seas tour. They had refused, but it was obvious that Takarabe did not wish Katō or Suetsugu to be in Tokyo during Privy Council deliberations.62 Vice Admiral Osumi and Rear Admiral Terashima told Harada that Katō and Suetsugu were away from Tokyo attending fleet exercises in late August and did not intend to return to Tokyo until 1 September. Then, on 22 August Katō sent a message to the Navy Minister saying he was returning forthwith because of his niece’s illness but would not present himself at the Navy Ministry. According to these two naval officers, Katō was still in Aomori Prefecture two days later and then, on the evening of 24 August returned to Tokyo. Harada deduced from this that Katō was returning to make himself available for a call from the sub-committee and found it


strange that Suetsugu, ‘who has no family relationship with him’ accompanied him to Tokyo.63 It is certainly the case that Katō whose diary for that week was blank, noted on 27 August that he was preparing materials for the Privy Council and completed them on 28 August. What is not clear is whether this was in preparation for a summons to appear or whether he knew a discussion on his role would arise and was preparing written materials to send to the sub-committee. The sub-committee had restricted attendance at its meetings to try and avoid the numerous leaks but Chief Secretary Futagami, the principal source of such leaks, was still in attendance. Mizumachi Kesaroku claimed that he was responsible for limiting the cabinet members to be cross-examined to only Hamaguchi, Takarabe and Shidehara.64 After some preliminary skirmishes the sub-committee began in earnest to examine supreme command matters at the beginning of September. The principal interpellators were Kaneko Kentarō and Kawai Misao (a former Chief of the General Staff). At meetings on 1 and 3 September, Hamaguchi responded to questions on his negotiations with Katō by stating clearly: ‘I’m firmly of the opinion that the Chief of the Naval General Staff had no objections’. The chairman, Itō Miyōji told Hamaguchi that this was quite at variance with their own ‘facts’ and that more would be heard of this later.65 At the sixth meeting two days later, cross-examination of Hamaguchi and Takarabe continued. Takarabe told the committee that Katō had given his implicit agreement and that the evidence for this was the telegram which Katō had sent on 2 April to Takarabe in London. However, when the sub-committee asked for a copy of the telegram Takarabe refused, although it would appear that the sub-committee had a version already from Katō or some other source.66 The news that Katō was the main subject for discussion had obviously ‘leaked’ since Katō found his home invaded by reserve admirals led by Ogasawara on 2 September. Ogasawara and Admirals Yamashita and Arima ‘strongly advised’ Katō to attend the sub-committee and give evidence. Katō responded cautiously and to some extent evasively. He wrote in his diary that he did not think it good for a Supreme Military Councillor to attend as a witness and was dubious as to the legality, but ‘since their advice was so strong I delayed replying until the next day’.67 On 3 September, Katō noted that Hamaguchi had not changed his stand and was still insisting that Katō had agreed. Harada had recorded in his diary that Privy Councillors Arai, Kawai and Kanekō had focused on the supreme command issue and said:


Though the prime minister may say, as he did the other day, that we should accept that the Chief of the Naval General Staff had no objection to the final instructions, yet this is extremely doubtful.68 Katō heard that same day from Admiral Nango, one of the leading activist reserve admirals, that Chairman Itō had requested Katō’s attendance at the sub-committee hearings.69 Nango’s information was correct and also reveals that leaks were still occurring. Ito and the sub-committee, frustrated by the fact that neither Hamaguchi nor Takarabe’s contentions over Katō’s ‘agreement’ could be shaken and by Takarabe’s refusal to let them see the telegram with Katō’s ‘implicit’ agreement now asked Hamaguchi to ask the Navy Minister to permit Katō to attend. With Katō’s attendance, Itō hoped to resolve the conflict between the evidence his committee had and the assertions of Hamaguchi and Takarabe, or at the very least, further embarrass the government.70 Katō had told Ogasawara that same day that ‘provided it was not illegal’ he would attend.71 After discussing with his advisers, especially his ‘brainbuster’ Egi, the Railways Minister Hamaguchi issued a note refusing to permit Katō to appear, a decision strictly in accord with Privy Council regulations. Katō’s diary for 4 September read: The Nichi Nichi Shinbun newspaper scooped the situation. Various newspaper writers swooped on my house and I was forced to tell them all about the cabinet memorandum relating to the reply. The government today finally rejected my attendance (because) it is only possible, according to Privy Council regulations, to deal with the government.72 There are two interesting points here. First that Katō, from the beginning, appears to have suspected that legally he could not hope to present his evidence in person. Therefore his preparation of materials for the Privy Council at the end of August, seems to have been based on this assumption. Secondly, Itō Takashi stated that during the deliberations of the Privy Council Katō was expected to make some public statements critical of the government but refrained from doing so.73 However, this diary entry shows clearly that Katō did make a public statement possibly out of sheer frustration after Hamaguchi had refused to allow him to attend. Moreover on 5 September Katō’s diary stated:


Every newspaper except the Nichi Nichi Shinbun and the Asahi Shinbun carried an article called ‘Katō’s note’ exposing the content of the negotiations (prior to 1 April).74 In the days that followed, Katō found himself the focus of attention in the press and his house was subjected to a steady procession of reserve admirals, members of conservative and right wing societies, the Seiyūkai and even the Kempeitai. The latter offered him protection but Katō demurred. Katō visited the Navy Ministry on 5 September but, since Takarabe was not present, he spoke instead to Taniguchi, the Chief of the Naval General Staff. According to Aoki Tokuzō, Katō asked him to pass a message to Takarabe that regarding the various questions in the Privy Council hearings: For the sake of the Navy or the Naval General Staff I am prepared to take total responsibility. I will not act rashly and will not begrudge sacrificing myself alone.75 From this statement it is unclear what precisely Katō meant. However it could be interpreted as a willingness to take ‘total responsibility’ by relating events to the Privy Council sub-committee personally since Kobayashi Tatsuo wrote that Katō had asked Taniguchi to inform the Navy Minister of his wish to attend the Privy Council hearings and explain the situation at the time the ‘reply’ was sent to London.76 On 7 August Katō received a long note from Suetsugu, former Vice-Chief of the Naval General Staff. At this time Suetsugu was very closely involved with the opposition party, the Seiyukai, especially the powerful Suzuki faction.77 The letter began by stating that newspapers were reporting that the government would refuse to permit Katō to appear before the sub-committee to give evidence. On this matter, Katō seems to have been better informed than Suetsugu. Suetsugu quoted from newspaper reports but Katō had known on the very day (4 August) that the Premier had rejected the request. Suetsugu went on to propose courses of action for Katō. First, he suggested Katō require an explanation from Takarabe regarding the Navy Minister’s statements in the sub-committee that Katō had ‘implicitly agreed’ to the revised instructions. If he was vague in his response Katō was to press him hard. Secondly, because the Navy Minister has distorted Katō’s true intentions, Katō must insist that he be allowed to attend the hearings and explain for himself. Thirdly, if Takarabe did not agree then to ask for a transcript of the notification sent to the Navy Ministry on 21 April. Finally, if


Takarabe did not agree to these conditions Katō should resign from the Supreme Military Council and publicly explain his reasons. Katō, either as a result of his conversation with Taniguchi on 5 August or from Suetsugu’s letter, met the Navy Minister on 8 August and a heated discussion ensued.78 Katō began by inquiring whether it was true that he was under observation by the Kempeitai and that they were relaying information to the Navy Minister. He then demanded to know precisely what had been said regarding his position in the subcommittee. Takarabe stated clearly that he believed the Prime Minister had been sincere when he said he had obtained Katō’s agreement. Finally, Katō asked that he be allowed to attend the Privy Council hearing and explain matters personally, but Takarabe replied that this was neither legal nor practicable. Katō then threatened he would resort to the ‘ultimate solution’ of requesting a meeting of the Supreme Military Council and resign after explaining his reasons. This was a serious threat but it fell somewhat short of Suetsugu’s plea for him to make his reasons for resignation public, a move clearly designed to aid the opposition party and pressure the sub-committee into rejecting the treaty.79 Takarabe’s activities in the Privy Council in support of the cabinet, further angered reserve admirals and naval officers sympathetic to Katō. It was now clear that Takarabe would resign shortly, probably immediately after ratification of the treaty. The conversation with Takarabe and the possible threat to resign from the Supreme Military Council and active service, were Katō’s last desperate efforts to obtain leverage in the dispute. However Takarabe, probably under the guidance of Hamaguchi, remained resolute during the Privy Council hearings, a state of affairs somewhat out of character for him. Katō did not resign and the Privy Council examining committee, to the great surprise of the majority of informed political observers, unconditionally approved ratification of the London Treaty. Hamaguchi had stood firm throughout, refusing to provide the texts of the Supreme Military Council’s reply to the throne, Katō’s telegram of 2 April to Takarabe, the navy’s supplementary plan and other documents as well as refusing to permit Katō to attend and give evidence. It appears that the government also had contingency plans drawn up in case the sub-committee ruled against the cabinet. In that event, Hamaguchi and the pro-treaty forces intended to lobby members of the plenary session of the Privy Council. This was the body with the power of decision within the Privy Council. If the Privy Council, in plenary session, also refused to approve ratification of the treaty, they would appeal to the throne and proceed with ratification anyway. This was possible since constitutional experts believed that Privy Council approval was merely advisable but not mandatory. In the end the sub-


committee, lacking a clear rejection from the Supreme Military Council, retreated from shouldering sole responsibility for rejecting the treaty and bringing down the government. The reasons for Katō’s defeat over ratification are not susceptible to any simple answers. Katō softened his opposition to ratification in the Supreme Military Council out of concern for Tōgō and concern for other members of this organisation, rather than from any change in his perspective in his new post. He had not altered his opposition to ratification but had decided that the fact that ‘defects in national defence’ was cited in the Supreme Military Council document, was sufficient grounds for the Privy Council to reject the treaty. Unfortunately the Privy Council, having brought down a previous Minseitō administration and been severely criticised for it, appeared to lose its nerve. Had it caused the downfall of the Hamaguchi cabinet, then probably the movement to reduce the powers of the Privy Council would have gained even greater momentum. Katō’s behaviour during the ratification dispute can perhaps be regarded as at times somewhat politically naive. However he was not alone in miscalculating the Privy Council’s final decision, since many shrewd commentators on Japanese domestic politics had also been convinced that the Privy Council would decide against ratification. Katō might have taken comfort from the fact that the sub-committee believed that the Prime Minister had now agreed that the naval strength ought to be decided by the Navy Minister, with the Chief of Staff’s agreement and that they had grave doubts concerning either Hamaguchi or Takarabe’s versions of events involving Katō. Nevertheless these were minor gains, the battle over ratification had been lost and the anti-treaty and anti-government forces outmanoeuvred by Prime Minister Hamaguchi. All that remained now was to ensure that the cabinet kept to its promises on the supplementary budgets for the navy and that further efforts to strengthen the Naval General Staff vis-à-vis the Navy Ministry (and therefore the cabinet) would continue. Notes 1 Katō’s appointment, however, may have influenced both Takarabe and Hamaguchi to incline towards convening a Gensuifu Kaigi. 2 This effectively meant that the pro-treaty and anti-treaty forces in the Supreme Military council were split 3–3. However Chairman Admiral of the Fleet Tōgō was to argue that, as chairman, he also had a casting (as well as an individual) vote. 3 The Gunji Sangikan Kaigi was the older body and was replaced by the Gunji Sangiin Kaigi. For details of the evolution of both organizations see Matsushita Yoshio, Meiji Gunsei Shiron, (Tokyo, 1956), pp. 287–289 and pp. 535–540


4

5

6 7 8 9

10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

respectively. It is feasible that references to the GunjiSangikan Kaigi were simply a continued use of the older term, especially by older military officers. However it is more likely that GunjiSangikan Kaigi was literally a Meeting of the Councillors (informal) as opposed to a meeting of the Supreme Military Council (formal). In this case it would appear to be interchangeable with GunjiSangikan Kaigo and GunjiSangikan Shugo. There were no provisions for the two bodies (especially single service gatherings) to act together in a formal sense. The Gensuifu was the highest advisory body comprising military officers and could, in fact, be convened on any matter the Emperor wished. The Supreme Military Council was the highest advisory body on national defence matters. However, Gensui were also Gunjisangikan and, as in the naval case, they attended as senior members and often chaired the sessions. This then became a GensuiSangikan Kaigi, at this time effectively a meeting of the Supreme Military Council naval members with Admiral of the Fleet Togo in the chair. See previous chapter for details. Katō had been thwarted by Admiral Prince Fushimi, whom he regarded as an ally, colluding with Admiral Okada to prevent the Council being convened. Okada also transmitted this message to Navy Minister Takarabe via Captain Koga on 27/4/30. Prince Saionji and his allies in the Imperial Court were also against such a meeting being convened at this time. Okada later changed his mind and decided on a meeting of the Supreme Military Council but only after ratification. Itō Takashi, Shōwa Shoki Seijishi Kenkyū, (Tokyo, 1969) p. 164. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 7/4/30, (p. 172). op. cit., Okada Nikki, 7/5/30. op. cit., Katō Nikki, 10/5/30. This is also confirmed from other sources that Katō’s diary by op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1969), op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1970), p/171. However, this article tends to exaggerate the influence and power of Navy Minister Takarabe even stating ‘Navy Minister Takarabe discharged Chief of Staff Katō’. He did, of course, have to approve the resignation and thus technically discharge him. op. cit., Crowley, p. 73. ibid., p. 74. op. cit., Aoki, Vol. 1, p. 43. op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1970), p. 171. op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1969), p. 171. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 6/6/30. op. cit., Sakai, p. 174. op. cit., Itō, (1970), p. 171. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 16/6/30, (p. 183). op. cit., Aoki, pp. 76–77 which describes this meeting. ibid., Aoki, p. 77–79. op. cit., TSM, p. 135. op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1969), p. 176, note 18. A succinct account of army-navy discussions on this matter by Kobayashi Tatsuo is to be found in TSM., Vol. 1, pp. 133–135. ibid., TSM, p. 136 and op. cit., Katō Nikki 6/7/30. ibid., TSM., p. 135. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 3.7.30.


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53

54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61

ibid., 6/7/30. op. cit., TSM., p. 137. ibid., p. 137. ibid., p. 137, op. cit.; Itō Takashi, (1969), p. 181 and op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki 14/7/ 30. (p. 193). op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1969), p. 182 states ‘At this stage one cannot say of Katō’s position that it was totally opposed to ratification’. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 15/7/30, (p. 194). ibid., 15/7/30, (p. 194). op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1969), p. 182. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 31/8/30, where he recounts being accused of being unfaithful to Tōgō to help Taniguchi. op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1970), p. 172. op. cit., Aoki, p. 87. op. cit., Crowley, p. 77. op. cit., Itō (1969), p. 183. op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, pp. 196–197. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 21/7/30, (p. 197). op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 198. op. cit., Crowley, p. 77 op. cit., Itō (1969) pp. 183–184 ibid., p. 203. op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 199. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 23/7/30, (p. 198). ibid. ibid. op. cit., TSM., p. 140. Japan Advertiser, 31/5/30. For the privy Council’s role in these events see op. cit. Aoki, pp. 89–100; op. cit., TSM., pp. 140–149 and especially op. cit., Ito, (1969), pp. 325–352. In English see op. cit., Takeuchi, pp. 322–335. Katō had joined the Kokuhonsha when it was first established and Hiranuma was the founder and leading member of this organisation so their relationship probably dates from then. On Hiranuma’s role in pre-war politics see especially Richard Yasko, Hiranuma Kiichiro and Conservative Politics in Pre-war Japan, Ph.D., (Columbia University, 1959). For Hiranuma and the Kokuhonsha and his role in the London Naval Treaty Crisis see especially op. cit., Itō, (1969), pp. 353–371 and pp. 372–389 respectively. The available evidence tends to indicate that his influence over Katō has been somewhat exaggerated. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 4/6/30, (p. 168). op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 126. ibid. op. cit., TSM., P. 141. op. cit., Itō (1969), p. 341 and op. cit. Mayer-Oakes, p. 205 and pp. 208–209. op. cit., TSM., p. 141. op. cit., Takeuchi, p. 326. op. cit., TSM., p. 142.


62 op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 174. The Navy Minister had repeatedly attempted to persuade Katō and Suetsugu to go on a South Seas Tour at this critical juncture. 63 ibid., p. 243. 64 ibid., p. 217. 65 ibid., p. 224. 66 It is difficult to support Takarabe’s contention that Katō agreed from the text of this telegram. Katō had possibly supplied a copy to the Privy Council but since Navy Minister Takarabe refused to disclose the text the Privy Council could neither prove nor disprove Takarabe’s contention. 67 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 2/9.30. 68 op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 122. 69 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 3/9/30. 70 Katō could not attend and his diary entries attest to the fact that he was well aware of the legalities which precluded him from attending. Privy Council Regulations 111 states: The Privy Council shall have official connection with the Cabinet and the Ministers of State only and officially shall not communicate or have any connection whatsoever with any other governmental offices, with the Diet or with his Majesty’s private subjects. Sumitsuin Jimukitei. (Regulations for the Conduct of the Business of the Privy Council) op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 223. 71 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 3/9/30. ‘I promised (Admiral) Ogasawara that if it is not illegal I will attend’. On the previous day he had told other reserve admirals that, ‘It is not a good thing for a Supreme Military Councillor to attend as witness’. 72 ibid, 4/9/30. The memorandum in question was concerned with the matter of making up deficiencies in defence planning resulting from the treaty. 73 op. cit., Itō, (1970), p. 172. 74 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki. 5/9/30. 75 op. cit., Aoki, p. 93. 76 op. cit., TSM., p. 144. 77 For the role of Suzuki in Seiyūkai politics at this time see Gordon Berger, Parties out of Power in Japan, 1931–1941, (Princeton, 1977). 78 The letter is reproduced in op. cit., Itō Takashi, (1969), pp. 185–186. 79 op. cit., Aoki, pp. 94–96 for the Katō-Takarabe talks.

CHAPTER 10 Katō’s final years

On 1 October 1930, immediately after the Privy Council and cabinet had given their approval, the London Treaty received Imperial sanction. Katō and those of like mind had failed in their efforts to prevent both the signing and the ratification of the treaty. However, this did not imply that Katō and the navy were now prepared to abandon the issue. The treaty decision was irreversible but discussions on the navy’s supplementary budget to remedy ‘defects’ in the treaty had still to be completed. On this issue the navy, including Taniguchi, Katō’s successor as Chief of the Naval General Staff, were determined to see that the cabinet fulfilled its previous promises. These had been given by the cabinet at the time of the final dispatch of instructions to London, and subsequent to the Supreme Military Council’s report on the treaty issue. The cabinet had promised to fulfil its obligation ‘economic and other circumstances permitting’. The navy was demanding an expenditure of 500 million yen, a figure that seriously threatened the Minseitō programme of economic retrenchment. A series of complex and often heated discussions between the navy and the government ensued, in which the government sought a reduction in expenditure of around 125 million yen. However, the navy was not prepared to go below the figure of 378 million yen.1 Eventually, a compromise was reached but not before the conflict between the navy and the government had been made public. Naturally, Katō Kanji was involved in this controversy since he was determined that the government should provide the money for the entire supplementary budget. The new Chief of the Naval General Staff was also most concerned as the government had apparently reneged on its promise. On 22 October 1930, following discussions with the Finance Minister, Deputy Navy Minister Kobayashi told Harada Kumao that: the navy appropriation had been reduced far below our expectations. With an allocation like this the Navy can move neither hand nor foot.2


If the naval officers selected by the dominant ‘pro-treaty’ forces were dissatisfied with the government’s handling of the supplementary budget, then it is hardly surprising that Katō Kanji again entered the conflict. Katō was determined that the government should be compelled to provide the money for the entire supplementary budget. Speaking to newsmen at this time Katō stated: It is dangerous for rank outsiders to argue about naval armament. The navy’s supplementary program is the absolute minimum. On this matter of disarmament we persist in our original belief. Armaments never have the waging of war as their objective. But each country must possess them so that the very existence of the state may not be endangered. The strength allowed us under the London Treaty, unless the supplementary program is established fully, will be a most serious matter for the rise or fall of the state. Especially in view of the government’s response to the Throne that it would take all necessary measures to insure national defence once the treaty was ratified. I feel that we must look forward to the fulfilment of our national defence plans through complete realisation of the navy’s supplementary program. Talk of resolving our national defence needs through political solutions is an extremely dangerous layman’s notion and it makes me shudder for the consequences it may have.3 For Harada, this statement was positive evidence that Katō was continuing to attack the London Treaty. But although this statement implied a dislike of the treaty and the way it was concluded, the real message was rather different. It was that Katō was now prepared to accept the treaty publicly, provided the supplementary budget for the navy was fulfilled. The battle over the supplementary budget was not confined to the navy and the cabinet since the opposition Seiyūkai party was still searching for ways of bringing down the Minseitō administration. Yamamoto Teijirō a leading opposition party politician, sent a number of letters to Katō in late 1930. In a letter dated 8 November 1930 he spelled out the Seiyūkai position.4 In rather vague terms he hinted that if the navy was to bring down the cabinet as the army had brought down the Saionji cabinet before the First World War, then the Seiyūkai would rebuild the national finances and meet the navy’s demands in full. There is however no evidence that Katō was active in any efforts to bring down the cabinet at this time. Indeed Katō had tearfully promised Navy Minister Takarabe he would cease ‘contacts with politicians of low class and scheming minds’ and that ‘I shall never again see such persons. In fact, I

KATŌ’S FINAL YEARS 295

have already been careful to break this practice’5. It may well be true that Katō was sincere and did not actively pursue party links, but he did receive visits from many politicians in the months that followed. He may not have actively sought such meetings himself but, as the government appeared to be going back on its word, Katō again became more actively involved in the political debate over the supplementary budget for the navy. Thus, the London Treaty issue continued to have a major effect on the Hamaguchi cabinet and they were clearly not to be permitted to savour for long the fruits of this victory for civilian control of the military. Admiral Takarabe had resigned immediately after ratification, thus fulfilling an Imperial request to see the treaty through to ratification. On 24 November, Premier Hamaguchi was shot down by an assassin and Wakatsuki Reijirō took control of the Cabinet. Hamaguchi died of his wounds in August 1931.6 The shooting of Hamaguchi was linked to the London Treaty and especially the ‘infringement of the supreme command’. Thus the only two prime ministers who ever occupied the Navy Minister protem portfolio, Hara in 1921 and Hamaguchi in 1930 were both to die for reasons that included alleged ‘crimes’ against the military authorities during negotiations over naval limitation treaties. Harada Kumao, mirroring the opinions of many liberals no doubt, felt that there was a possibility that Katō was involved either directly or indirectly in this. Deputy Navy Minister Kobayashi promised to investigate this and take prompt steps to deal with the matter.7 Katō’s diary entry for that day had used the same term ‘ruffian’ which Harada used to describe the assassin and it appears most unlikely that Katō had, in any conscious way, sought to aid anyone attempting such a deed. However, he had been the central figure in the ‘infringement of the supreme command’ problem and thus was possibly indirectly responsible. Certainly his words and deeds had a considerable impact on many people, especially right wing and nationalist extremists within and outside the military. On 2 February 1931, Foreign Minister Shidehara, one of the principal architects of the London Treaty agreement, committed a classic ‘slip of the tongue’ in the Diet. In answering a question on the treaty he had stated that the Emperor had ratified it therefore it was acceptable. This was immediately seized upon by opposition politicians as being disrespectful of the Emperor and attempting to make the Emperor responsible (and not the cabinet) for the treaty and involving the Imperial institution in politics. Extremists on the opposition benches seized their opportunity and brought in Seiyūkai ingaidan (party strong arm squads) which made further parliamentary debate impossible. Three days later when the Minseitō attempted to restart debate in the budget committee, a riot broke out on the floor of the Diet and at least ten


people were injured and disturbances continued for some days afterwards. Thus the London Treaty crisis continued to influence events and appeared increasingly to be associated with political violence. On 10 December, the navy had finally agreed to a compromise proposal which provided the major part of their demands and this was coupled with the promise of a further supplement later.8 Details of this second supplementary budget were kept secret but, whilst it may have satisfied Taniguchi, the Chief of the Naval General Staff and other leaders within the navy, it did not meet Katō’s demand that the navy obtain the original supplementary budget in full. On 23 February 1931, Admiral Okada told Prince Saionji’s secretary that he had heard, from the Vice-Chief of the Naval General Staff, that Katō had been in contact with the Seikyōsha a right wing nationalist group.9 Katō had apparently told them of the existence and content of the second supplementary plan and the promise the navy had received from the Prime Minister. Katō also told them that if the second supplementary plan was not completed then this would contradict the Supreme Military Council reply to the throne prior to ratification. Apparently the Seikyōsha made a copy of his statement and distributed it to certain members of the House of Peers. This inevitably created further problems and yet more controversy.10 Okada warned Katō that he must be more careful. The Seikyōsha published the influential right wing nationalist magazine Nihon Oyobi Nihonjin (Japan and the Japanese) and in the March 1931 issue, there appeared an article entitled ‘An open letter to Admiral Katō’. In this Katō was urged to fight against the ‘reduced budget’ and stay true to his previous declarations. It also demanded that the proposed second supplementary budget be made public.11 Other events in 1931 and 1932 pushed matters of naval limitation and naval budgets into the background as the Minseitō government sought to retain control of Japan’s domestic and international policy-making. The Minseitō cabinet, weakened by the loss of Hamaguchi, was faced with a worsening domestic and international economic situation and by an increase in army pressure for more funding. In September 1931, Great Britain abandoned the gold standard thus undermining the economic policies of the Minseitō cabinet. In that same month the Manchurian Incident occurred and the ability of civilian policy-makers to control the army’s expansionist policy on the Asian mainland effectively ended.12 Thus, one month after Hamaguchi’s death, the economic and diplomatic policies of economic retrenchment and ‘cooperative diplomacy’ were almost completely undermined.


The Mukden Incident and the broader Manchurian Incident were essentially army affairs and the navy did not openly support this particular ‘continental adventurism’. Nevertheless Katō, as a Supreme Military Councillor, was involved in numerous discussions on Manchuria and his considerable expertise on the Soviet Union proved an important asset. Katō also attended many functions at the Russo-Japanese Society and met various Soviet diplomatic officials and sent a number of opinion papers on Manchurian developments to the Foreign Ministry and the army. The escalation in political violence continued during 1931 and into 1932. It was especially marked among young officers of the army and navy who were increasingly involved with extremists determined to force Japan back on to what they thought was the proper course for the nation. The fall of the Minseitō cabinet in December 1931 brought the Seiyūkai, led by Inukai Tsuyoshi, to power.13 This Seiyūkai cabinet however, despite new economic policies, found that it could not solve the major domestic and international problems facing Japan either. The army’s expanded operations on the Asian continent destroyed any hope of restructuring domestic finances as well as any chance of international cooperation in solving Japan’s continuing economic crisis. The world depression had all but destroyed progress towards collective security and a new co-operative world order and the economic crises forced nations increasingly to turn inward for economic and political survival. Japan’s problems were not merely economic and the increasing influence of top-level military, especially army officers, in national policy caused considerable problems. In addition young military officers from both services were increasingly involved in political violence.14 This was not simply because of the changing nature of civil-military relations in Japan. A major factor was the rapid decline in the confidence of younger military officers of both services in their own superiors. The latter development was sometimes directly but more often indirectly connected with the London Treaty and ‘Supreme Command’ crisis. In 1931 increased military involvement on the Asian mainland had been primarily an army matter. However the Shanghai Incident of January 1932 involved joint army/navy operations and brought Japan even more criticism from the rest of the world.15 Katō’s diaries for this period are not detailed but show that he met a vast number of important military, diplomatic and party officials. Katō was also in demand regarding visits from important foreign dignitaries. His diary indicates he was asked for advice on the recent election of American President Roosevelt and that he was also involved in discussions with the Lytton Commission visiting Japan as part of the League of Nations investigation of the Manchurian Crisis.


In 1932, he was clearly most concerned with naval involvement at Shanghai and recorded daily developments including the names of prominent young officers killed, especially those who were sons of his colleagues or were known to him personally. Katō later received an Imperial appointment as Chairman of the Special Commemorative Ceremony at the Yasukuni Shrine for the war dead at Shanghai. In all of these things Katō’s experience, ability and position as a Supreme Military Councillor made him a natural sounding board for various people attempting to solve many of the problems facing Japan at this time. However, it would be wrong to place too great an importance on his role. His influence is difficult to measure but one could not say that he was initiating any developments at this time. More and more it appears that others were using Katō in support of their own policies. In March and October 1931 coup d’etat plans by middle echelon military officers were thwarted.16 But in May 1932, the so-called ‘May 15 Incident’ occurred when young naval officer cadets, aided by army colleagues and civilian right wing fanatics, carried out a series of violent acts. They assassinated Prime Minister Inukai Tsuyoshi and hurled bombs at the residence of the Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal Count Makino, the Metropolitan Police headquarters, the Seiyukai offices and the Mitsubishi Bank. Katō’s diary entry read: 5.30–5.45 army/navy officers and army cadets, 18 in all, divided themselves for attack on PMs official residence, Seiyūkai.head office, national Police Agency and Makino’s home. PM received serious wounds. Immediately phoned Prince Fushimi, Admiral Tōgō and Count Ogasawara and informed them.17 As with the attack on Hamaguchi over the London Treaty, Katō’s name was once again linked with these violent events. The evidence in the trials of the perpetrators of these deeds invariable included Katō’s name. The Kido diaries reveal that the Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal, Count Makino, whose house was bombed, mentioned the testimony of one defendant who had said that Makino had blocked Katō’s report to the throne on 31 March and 1 April 1930.18 In September 1932 defendants in the ‘May 15 Incident’ trial were demanding recognition that Katō’s access to the throne had been blocked during the treaty debate.19 The ‘supreme command’ again was a feature of the trial. The airing of the defendants’ statements appeared not to work against them but seemed if anything, to further exacerbate the feelings of those who had opposed the London Conference. The defendants had clearly intended to eliminate people who might have allowed a similar ‘betrayal’ at


the next naval limitation conference. By now, the close relationship between Katō’s struggle during the London Conference and the politics of violence was even more clear. This was especially true of the accusations of palace officials being involved on the pro-treaty side. Although a similar accusation had circulated in April and May 1930 it did not surface in the Privy Council cross-examinations during the ratification debate. Katō cannot be directly connected in any way with the ‘May 15 Incident’ but he was clearly very much in the minds of these young officers. Katō had previously stated his concern, in early 1930, that junior naval officers might get out of control unless the navy put its own house in order. But his frequent controversial statements and his manipulation by Suetsugu and the right wing, possibly render Katō partially responsible for inciting these young men, even though it was not deliberate. Katō was obviously a symbol for these young officers. On the day before the ‘May 15 Incident’ Kita Ikki, a key influence on the young officers involved in the violence, had visited Katō urging the establishing of a strong cabinet.20 Katō had continued throughout 1931 and 1932 to carry out the numerous duties of a Supreme Military Councillor. This included visits to military facilities, manoeuvres, inspection trips and the like. He had also kept abreast of domestic political developments, especially the inter-party battle for control of the cabinet and the increased military intervention, both violent and non-violent, in government. The assassination of Prime Minister Inukai on 15 May 1932, did not result in a stronger Seiyūkai cabinet but in a so-called ‘national unity’ cabinet headed by Saitō Makoto, a former naval officer.21 The latter had been one of the leading naval elders on the side of the pro-treaty forces during the London Treaty Crisis. It seems reasonable to assume that, given the expectation of a new naval limitation conference in 1935, Saitō’s appointment was probably a major factor in the navy now turning its attention seriously to dealing with the naval limitation issue, especially since a pro-treaty admiral now occupied the premiership. During 1931 and early 1932, the issue of naval limitation had featured only indirectly in that various events had caused people to continually reflect on the London Treaty Crisis of 1930. However, the problem from this point on was how to cope with the forthcoming naval conference or, as the vast force of navy and other propagandists chose to call it ‘the coming crisis of 1935/36’.


KATŌ AND NAVAL POLITICS 1932–34 The result of the London Naval Treaty crisis had been a badly divided navy. This split, which is often depicted as a jōyaku-ha (Treaty faction) versus kantai-ha (Fleet faction) split. might more accurately be termed a schism between a hitherto dominant gunsei-ha (administrative faction) and a gunreiha (command faction). These two factions, centred mainly in the Navy Ministry and Naval General Staff respectively, had for some years been engaged in a battle for supremacy within the navy. Hitherto, the Naval General Staff had occupied the subordinate position and Katō Kanji continued to play a key role in this internal power struggle.22 On the surface, the events of 1930 over the right to decide the strength of the navy, appeared to have thwarted the efforts of Katō and his subordinates to increase the power of the Naval General Staff in such matters. But, as the debate over ratification showed, the Naval General Staff had actually made a number of definite gains in terms of the allocation of decision-making power within the navy on naval strength. This was mainly due to the strength of Katō Kanji and the relative weakness of Navy Minister Takarabe. The appointments of Katō and Suetsugu prior to the London Treaty, had clearly been important elements in a shift in ‘de facto’ power within the navy towards the Naval General Staff. As the previous chapter showed, Katō obtained virtual equality for the Chief of the Naval General Staff in future decisions on naval strength by forcing Takarabe to agree to an internal memorandum on the subject. Hamaguchi, in his various statements during the treaty debate, had repeatedly stated that Katō and the Naval General Staff had been consulted but, in his statement later to the Privy Council, Hamaguchi had actually said that he had obtained the Chief’s Katō’s tacit consent. To some shrewd observers this was regarded as tantamount to an admission that the permission of the Naval General Staff had been required. Therefore, although the cabinet had triumphed over the Naval General Staff regarding the signing and ratification of the treaty and had dismissed the internal agreement as a purely internal matter, there had been a distinct shift in power distribution that in the longer term weakened the power of the Navy Ministry. The events of 1931 and early 1932 were probably an important factor in lessening the friction between the two groups within the navy but in fact, considerable damage had been done. The Naval General Staff were merely awaiting the opportunity to launch a major offensive against the Navy Ministry and the ‘administrative faction’. The army, as a strategy for improving its negotiating position with the government, had appointment Imperial Prince Kanin as Chief of the General Staff and the navy, in an


apparent response to this, appointed Imperial Prince Fushimi as his navy counterpart.23 It is usually suggested that the appointment of imperial princes to these top posts was a device to ensure more effective access to the throne. Princes Kanin and Fushimi in theory, now possessed dual access to the Emperor as Chiefs of Staff and members of the Imperial family. But, as the London Treaty debate showed, the Emperor and his close advisers were determined to prevent imperial princes abusing their privileges or being manipulated by others. Both before and after his appointment, the Emperor refused audiences to Prince Fushimi on naval matters and on occasion rebuked him severely. The real importance of appointing an imperial prince was far more important in intra-military politics. In the case of the navy, the appointment of Prince Fushimi was the ideal opportunity for the Naval General Staff to challenge the traditional domination of the Navy Ministry. A Navy Minister would have needed considerable nerve and support to refuse the wishes of an imperial prince. Prince Fushimi was generally regarded as a man manipulated by his subordinates. This is probably true of the efforts to reform the Naval General Staff that were carried out in his name. However Prince Fushimi had made known his support of the Chief of the Naval General Staff ‘s Katō’s position on the supreme command, during the London treaty crisis and had even volunteered to speak to the Emperor about it. Yale Candee Maxon, citing the Harada Saionji memoirs, wrote of the reforms of the Naval General Staff in 1933: In the summer of 1933, Admiral Katō Kanji…and Viscount Kaneko seem to have prevailed upon the nominal Navy chief of staff, Prince Fushimi, to request that the respective powers of the navy minister and the navy chief of staff be changed to approximate those existing between the war minister and the Army chief of staff—to request an increase in the power of the navy chief of staff relative to the navy minister.24 Harada heard this from Rear Admiral Terashima, chief of the Navy Ministry’s naval affairs bureau, but in fact the conclusions of Harada and others are open to question. The planning for such reforms commenced much earlier than the summer of 1933 and can be dated from the appointment of Rear Admiral Takahashi Sankichi as Vice Chief of the Naval General Staff in February of 1932. At this time he was President of the Naval War College and he exchanged places with Rear Admiral Hyakutake Gengo who had only been in his post a mere four months.


Hyakutake, who had served under Katō when the latter was Chief Gunner of the Mikasa, was convinced that this was a result of ‘Admiral Katō Kanji urging navy minister Osumi to exchange the two officers’.25 Whilst it was most unusual for a Supreme Military Councillor to interfere in such appointments, Professor Nomura Minoru feels that Katō, being six academy classes senior to Navy Minister Osumi, put pressure on him which he found impossible to refuse.26 The new Vice-Chief Takahashi Sankichi, was the same officer who had carried out research and discussions on Katō’s behalf regarding the strengthening of the Naval General Staff in 1922 and 1923. There is little doubt that Takahashi effectively ran the Naval General Staff and used his royal superior to implement sweeping reforms. He came to dominate the Staff in much the same way as Katō had done after the Washington Conference and may well have learned from Katō’s example. Takahashi was clearly a protégé and admirer of Katō and even suggested to Katō that he might again become Chief in the event of a national emergency. But it should be borne in mind that in 1923 Takahashi had continued to agitate for a strengthened Naval General Staff even after Katō had urged him to cease doing so. It is possible that Katō had engineered Takahashi’s appointment so as to carry out precisely those reforms since the time was more opportune, but it may be that Katō was simply recommending someone whom he knew would be needed, to run the organisation in the name of the ‘robot’ prince.27 Katō was most certainly involved in the later stages of the reforms and, when the two service ministers and two chiefs of staff signed a document on the rights of deciding the military strengths in January 1933, the document was passed to Katō who in turn passed it to Privy Councillor Kaneko Kentarō. Katō and Kaneko were known to have colluded during the London Treaty Crisis over how the right of the supreme command ought to be interpreted. Indeed Katō recalled Kaneko lecturing Prince Fushimi and colleagues on the subject at that time. Katō had studied the various regulations at great length and was undoubtedly influenced strongly by the interpretations of Kaneko who had been involved in the drafting of the Meiji Constitution. Kaneko was the legal expert behind Katō’s revised regulations on the strength issue during the ratification dispute and it is hardly surprising that Katō and Kaneko should be called on in 1933 to help with the legal aspects of revising naval general staff regulations.28 Katō himself seems to have been closely involved with the revision of the ‘Regulations Concerning the Mutual Jurisdiction of the Navy Ministry and the Naval General Staff’ and proudly recorded the gratitude for his efforts shown by Prince Fushimi suggesting that even giving up his life would be insufficient in return for the


nice things that the Prince had said to him.29 The end result was a series of far reaching reforms in September 1933 that totally realigned the power structure within the navy and made the Naval General Staff Chief superior even in peacetime on command matters. Osumi the Navy Minister, had tried to explain the necessity of the changes for improving relations between the Chief of Staff and the Navy Ministry, but the Emperor retorted that he was far more concerned about the relation between the Chief of the Naval General Staff and the cabinet!30 The changes affected all areas of civil/military relations and by increasing the powers of the navy’s Chief of Staff, caused problems at Imperial Headquarters regarding jurisdiction between the army and navy General Staffs. Katō’s involvement in the strengthening of the Naval General Staff, both directly and indirectly was considerable. He had already made certain incursions into the areas traditionally regarded as the Navy Ministry’s domain, by obtaining Takarabe’s approval on the ‘joint agreement’ on naval strength and now with these reforms, the Staff moved from equality to superiority in this area. However, to credit (or blame) Katō for directly masterminding the initiative taken under Prince Fushimi, does not take into account sufficiently the determination of Takahashi Sankichi and indeed Fushimi himself to strengthen this organisation. It would perhaps be more accurate to say the changes were initiated by supporters or followers of Katō Kanji. There can be no doubt that Katō was a willing and active participant in the later stages and was undoubtedly highly delighted with the results. Such a drastic realignment in the power structure within the navy could not but produce confrontation and for those officers, mainly in the Navy Ministry, who attempted to resist the reforming zeal of Takahashi and his superior Prince Fushimi, defeat was to be followed by voluntary and compulsory resignations. In 1933 some of the finest brains in the Administrative Faction went into the reserve, prematurely ending distinguished careers. This was the so-called ‘Osumi purge’ and Asada Sadao stated The mastermind behind this so-called ‘Osumi purge’ was again Katō Kanji’.31 Whilst there is a certain amount of circumstantial evidence to connect Katō with the Naval General Staff reform movement, there is no evidence at all that he was responsible for the ‘Purge’. It was not, as is often stated, a witch-hunt amongst the moderate top echelon ‘treaty faction’ it was something more than that. Harada, who was informed of the intimate details of the resignations and sackings’ by Admiral Kobayashi stated as follows: Furthermore, the Chief of the Naval General Staff, Prince Fushimi, desires the personal resignation of those who had any connections with


the London treaty or persons in the navy ministry who criticized the revision of the Naval General Staff.32 (emphasis mine) It would seem more accurate to see the ‘purge’ as the inevitable result of an intra-organizational struggle for supremacy between the administrative and command factions of the navy. Viewed from this perspective the London Treaty Crisis itself appears more a symptom of long-standing rivalry, a crisis that merely brought matters to a head. Such bitter infighting inevitably led to a series of resignations, especially by officers who had tried to resist the demands of an imperial prince, who also now happened to be an Admiral of the Fleet (gensui) as well as the Chief of the Naval General Staff. Katō’s diary gives no indication whatsoever that he controlled Prince Fushimi. The latter seems to have been controlled during the Treaty debate by a Captain Katō of the Operations Bureau of the Naval General Staff and by Takahashi during the organisational reforms. The tendency in the existing literature, especially in the works of Stephen Pelz and Asada Sadao, has been to accord Katō a far more powerful role that he really merits. Undoubtedly, his influence pervades the reforms and the ‘purge’ but the available historical evidence does not warrant the contention that he instigated either development. Nor does it sustain Asada’s contention that he was at the peak of his powers in 1933/34.33 It appears much more likely that his power was declining steadily from mid-1930 on, although his ‘involvement’ continued. PREPARING FOR THE NEXT NAVAL CONFERENCE The damage to Japan’s international image resulting from military expansion on the Asian mainland and Japan’s notification of her intent to secede from the League of Nations in 1933, contributed to an increased perception by policy-makers and public alike that Japan was becoming increasingly isolated from the world community. As the sense of insecurity increased, the belief in the benefits from international co-operation, decreased. These developments combined with increased military intervention in domestic politics tended to create a heightened sense of vulnerability by Japanese civilian leaders. They now began to adopt a more cautious approach to further arms control agreements and avoided too open a commitment to a pro-treaty posture. Moreover, the internal power and personnel realignments within the navy produced a growing consensus that naval limitation would only be acceptable if Japan’s terms were met. A major shift in emphasis required realignment, not only in naval politics but also changes in national politics


and the creation of a ‘strong cabinet’. By this, Katō and others meant a cabinet that would adopt a hard-line approach in future naval limitations talks and Premier Saitō Makoto was a strong supporter of Shidehara-style, softline diplomacy as his activities during the London Treaty crisis of 1930 showed. Preparations for the coming conference went through three distinct phases: first, the decision to abrogate the Washington treaties; second, the formation of a strong cabinet and third, the actual preparations for the forthcoming conference. Katō was to be involved in all three phases to varying degrees and clearly the changes in the domestic and international political climate had shifted quite dramatically in the direction favoured by Katō and other ‘hardliners’ on naval limitation agreements.The strengthening of the Naval General Staff and the ‘purge of certain key pro-treaty officers had been a positive indication of the shift in internal power alignments within the navy. This shift was in the direction of adopting a very hard-line attitude towards previous and future agreements on naval limitation. Parallel with these changes Japan’s role in the international community had also changed dramatically as a result of her military expansionist policy on the Asian mainland. This in turn led to growing international criticism of Japan that by late 1932 was so strong that Japan felt compelled to leave the League of Nations. In March 1933 Japan gave the statutory two-years notice of secession from the League. The sense of isolation and possibly ostracism especially over her behaviour in establishing the puppet state of Manchukuo, created an environment within Japan that could easily be manipulated by right wing nationalists as well as military propagandists. Greater control of the media by such people led to the emergence of a ‘Garrison State’ mentality. Japan’s expansion on the Asian mainland concerned naval arms limitation since control of the seas around Japan meant she could operate with relative impunity on the mainland. But even without this ‘continental adventurism’ on the part of Japan the structure of naval limitation-based international relations would have been under a great strain. World Depression, French, German and Italian competition in armaments and other factors all combined to produce an atmosphere of mutual suspicion rather than international cooperation. Britain was being forced to consider accelerated naval building programmes against the European Powers and was beginning to question the policy of co-operating with the United States. Japan, unhappy with the inferior ratio and the United States, from 1933, began building up to treaty limits. President Roosevelt’s motives were probably political in that he needed to improve America’s negotiating


position at the next naval conference but were also related to job creation as part of an economic recovery programme. For Katō and the navy, the period 1931–32 was one in which naval limitation had been pushed into the background. In early 1933, the navy began again to systematically study naval limitation, since another conference was imminent. The Washington treaties could be terminated in 1936 but only by giving two years notice, otherwise they would run on automatically. The London Treaty however would automatically terminate on the last day of 1936. If Japan wished to end or re-negotiate limitation and especially ratios on a different basis, naval policy would have to be decided and approved before the end of 1934. In May 1933, a temporary investigation section was established in the Navy Ministry’s Secretariat to prepare for the next conference and American naval intelligence was already, in June 1933, clearly aware of the likely approach that Japanese naval policy at the next conference would take: The Japanese Naval Staff is taking the attitude that the next conference will be in the nature of a crisis, and that Japan must prepare for it now. From statements by senior officers, Japan will either get parity with Great Britain and the USA or will withdraw from the conference and shape her naval policy as she thinks best.34 The Supreme Military Council, in its report to the throne in 1930, had stated that after 1936, Japan should shape her policy as she saw best, in effect stating that new arrangements would have to be made. Comments by Japanese representatives at the League of Nations were also extremely critical of the London Treaty in this period. Commander Ishikawa Shingo of the Naval General Staff sent Katō a position paper on the next conference in October 1933 and on 21 November it was approved by the Naval General Staff. Its most important proposal was the scrapping of the ratio and the assertion of the right to equality. He also demanded the scrapping of capital ships and aircraft carriers and free choice within categories to suit national needs under a fixed tonnage ceiling for all countries. Katō had a very high opinion indeed of Ishikawa and forecast a great future for him.35 However, there were people within the Naval General Staff who would have been happy with a ratio revised upwards to around 80% of the United States. By 1933 this figure was probably an accurate reflection of the actual situation since Japan had built her fleet up to treaty limits whilst the United States had not yet done so. However, the principle of the inherent right to equality was adopted and was, of course, strongly


supported by Katō, Suetsugu Nobumasa now Commander-in-Chief Combined fleet and Prince Fushimi, Chief of the Naval General Staff among others. By June 1934 the navy plan for limitation negotiations had been finalized and on 27 June was sent to the army authorities for approval.36 The single most important element was the demand that America and Britain must recognize the Japanese claim to equality under an agreed upper limit of tonnage. Failure to obtain this would mean that Japan would leave the conference. Japan’s claim of the principle to equality which, it should be pointed out did not necessarily imply that Japan would actually build a fleet equal to these powers, obviously required a strong cabinet and the abrogation of the Washington Treaties by the end of the year. A failure to abrogate would mean that the 5:5:3 ratio would continue for capital ships. Developments in terms of naval limitation in early 1933 and 1934 were obviously moving in a direction favourable to Katō since his cherished wish to see Japan liberated from the restrictions of an ‘inferior ratio’ now appeared to be moving towards realization. At this time, Katō received two important appointments from the Emperor. In April 1934, Katō received an Imperial appointment as Chairman of a special committee at the Yasukuni Shrine, to carry out a special ceremony for those who had died in the recent fighting in Manchuria and Shanghai.37 A month later his great hero, Admiral Tōgō died at the age of 88 and was honoured with a state funeral. Katō received an Imperial appointment as Chief Priest at Tōgō’s funeral.38 Along with such formal imperial appointments, Katō was also asked to give a keynote lecture at the special ceremony celebrating the 50th Anniversary for the ‘Imperial Rescript to Soldiers and Sailors’. Such developments, when combined with the widespread acceptance within the navy of Katō’s perceptions of the iniquities of the ratio system, appeared to indicate that Katō himself was being elevated to a position whereby he was increasingly regarded as the embodiment of the true Japanese naval officer, just as Tōgō had been. Certainly, within military circles, his prestige was very high. Given his past ‘problems’ with court officials, the imperial appointments suggest that his standing was such that the Imperial Court was compelled to honour him but such honours as were bestowed were transitory rather than permanent. KATŌ, THE FLEET MEMORIAL AND THE PREMIERSHIP In early 1934 Katō again became heavily involved in manoeuvrings in the navy and in national politics. In June, Harada Kumao noted that Katō and


Suetsugu were ‘drunk with power’ and were intriguing with officers of the fleet, urging them to advocate a harder line on disarmament and the need for a strong cabinet.39 Harada’s sources for the information were Admiral Osumi and Admiral Kobayashi, the Navy Minister and Deputy Navy Minister respectively. According to Kobayashi: Admiral Katō summoned Chief Engineer Machida (Captain) before the combined fleet moved out and told him that both in the Naval General Staff and in the Navy Ministry the heads (of departments) are weak. Therefore the men of the fleet must combine and take a strong stand against disarmament. Secondly the coming cabinet must be a strong one. He (Admiral Katō) hinted that he wouldn’t mind being the head of it and instigated Machida to work with Captain Nagumo of the Second Squadron in visiting the various squadron commanders of the combined fleet and writing a combined report.40 The Kido diary records almost the same story, heard from Harada via Navy Minister Osumi but Kido wrote: Admiral Katō Kanji was said to have disclosed his idea…to the effect that the naval reduction agreement should be abrogated immediately and the next cabinet should be a ‘national unity cabinet’ and, under the circumstances, he wished them to assist him in creating such a situation as to make him premier.41 According to both accounts the officers of the fleet responded favourably to adopting a hard-line approach on naval reduction and proposals for abrogation. But they refused to be drawn into political issues concerning the making or unmaking of cabinets. Nevertheless, a memorial was produced and presented to Prince Fushimi by Admiral Suetsugu, Commander-in-Chief Combined Fleet. Fushimi was apparently outraged by this blatant political manoeuvring by Suetsugu and Katō. Both were severely reprimanded and Harada stated that relations between Fushimi and Katō after this were increasingly distant.42 Prince Fushimi, after investigating the matter, heard that Suetsugu had acted under the orders of Katō but, given their past relationship it seems probable that Suetsugu, who had considerable political ambitions outside the service, probably inveigled Katō into acting rather than the reverse. As to Katō wishing to be made Prime Minister this would appear to have been the result of suggestions from Baron Hiranuma. In June 1934 the Saitō cabinet was nearing collapse and there was considerable activity over finding a suitable replacement. Among the front runners were Suzuki Kisaburō, head of the largest faction in the Seiyūkai and Baron Hiranuma of the Privy Council. Prince Saionji found neither a pleasing possibility. Saionji


told Harada on 19 June that Nakagawa Kojiro met Hiranuma who had announced: I have no intention of taking charge of the political situation. Please relay to Prince Saionji that Katō Kanji is suitable as the next prime minister. He (Hiranuma) added that Mazaki, Araki and War Minister Hayashi held the same view over the appointment of Katō. Nakagawa met the war minister and was told ‘Admiral Katō is a good choice’.43 Saionji, probably correctly, perceived this as a strategy by which Hiranuma could control the cabinet from behind the scenes probably as Home Minister, since the baron knew that Saionji would not permit his appointment as Premier. Katō recorded in his own diary on 17 June that month ‘Hiranuma promised to help’. Thus although Katō undoubtedly began pushing for support for himself as Premier within the fleet, he had probably been approached by Hiranuma beforehand. Katō failed to perceive that Hiranuma, as he had during the London Treaty Crisis, was merely manipulating him for his own political ends. Nevertheless, the memorial was also leaked to the Press and the Nichi Nichi Shinbun, with which Katō had a special relationship, supported Katō’s candidacy for the premiership.44 Undoubtedly, Katō would have been delighted to have headed a cabinet which abrogated the Washington Treaties and thus liberated Japan from the ‘inferior ratio’. His own political ambitions seem to have gone no further than the creation of a strong ‘national unity’ cabinet for this purpose. However even such limited ambitions were thwarted by Prince Saionji’s determination not to submit to the increasingly nationalistic, hard-line elements now tending to dominate Japanese politics at almost all levels. Saionji refused to allow a return to a party cabinet and instead appointed Admiral Okada Keisuke as the head of yet another ‘national unity’ cabinet. This was a double blow to Katō since Okada was not only pro-treaty and a moderate but was also from Katō’s own village. Katō and Okada had once been close but the events of 1930 had caused a rift and they were now bitter rivals. On 9 July, Katō recorded that he would not attend the official banquet for Okada and the next day he was counselled to play down his anti-Okada attitude.45 However, the appointment of Okada was not a major reversal for naval planners who were now moving rapidly towards declaring for a policy of scrapping the treaties. Katō’s thoughts at this time are clearly documented but what is difficult to ascertain is how deeply he was involved in this movement to abrogate the treaties. His diary does not provide any real evidence that he played a key role although clearly the navy position now reflected policies Katō had long advocated. Katō's approach over the years


on naval limitation were now almost conventional wisdom within naval circles. Katō himself was continually consulted but usually at a very late stage. One could argue, though it seems less likely, that it was not necessary to continually consult him since he was effectively controlling the navy through loyal subordinates.46 On 16 August 1934, Katō’s diary stated simple ‘received clear declaration from Navy Minister Osumi to scrap the treaties’. This referred to a top-level meeting of navy leaders and fleet commanders held that day. Katō had spoken on behalf of the officers present to the Navy Minister’s proposal to abrogate the treaties and repeated many of his past pronouncements on the subject of naval limitation.47 But there were two versions of the document presented by Katō at this meeting and the omissions from the final document are most interesting in indicating Katō stated that the principle of the ratio contained in the Washington Treaties had been the ‘root of evil’, had badly affected morale in the navy and had been a misapplication and abuse of the fundamentals of arms limitation. He thoroughly concurred, as did his fellow officers present, with the decision to abandon the ratios. He perceived the success or failure of the assertions being presented at the meeting to be crucial to the control of the navy, the rise and fall of morale, the life and death of Japan’s China and Manchuria policy and finally: We must say that the policy indicated today is truly final. Our navy is in a position where our backs are to the wall and it is obvious that all of us here, and the entire navy must co-operate to reach these objectives…48 In his first draft version, Katō had described how America had manipulated the world media into believing that the discussions had been based on ‘existing strength’ when in fact the ratios had been merely an argument over 60% or 70% bearing no real relationship to the true ‘existing strength’. He deeply regretted that Japan had not achieved the right of ‘freely decided power under a fixed world standard at Washington’. He then said Today those cancers are going to be cut out’ but this probably referred to agreement on a ratio rather than all the Washington treaties or naval arms limitation in general. He concluded: If it is possible for us to decide our level of military power autonomously and to expand and contract this according to the national economy, then our navy, on the basis of increase of morale and self confidence, which will be produced by this, can expect victory no


matter what percentage of national power our potential enemy possesses. I believe it will be like the Russo-Japanese campaign.49 This in a way contradicts what Katō had said in 1923 when he had told young officers at the Navy War College that conditions were no longer similar to those in the Russo-Japanese War and that material strength was vital. He appears here to be shifting towards a brand of spiritualism but it was after all a speech in front of fleet commanders. It is always difficult when reading such a speech for one to separate the psychologically effective exhortations from what officers such as Katō actually believed. Furthermore, Katō recognized that Japan could hardly be expected to build a fleet equal to that of the United States or Great Britain and he had to show that the Japanese Navy was still confident of victory even if materially inferior. The navy had now decided on abrogation of the Washington Treaty but the Okada cabinet was vacillating and Katō noted press reports stating the illogicality of such vacillation. Okada felt that it would be better to delay the formal announcement of abrogation lest it make the preliminary negotiations difficult if not impossible. Of course, giving notice of abrogation did not imply that the navy was advocating a no-treaty situation, but rather that they wished to remove the ‘inferior ratio’. However, Japanese policy-makers knew well that the United States was absolutely determined to retain the ratio system almost unchanged. In terms of naval limitation 1933 and 1934 were good years for Katō since his cherished wish of seeing Japan freed from the discriminatory ratio system seemed well on the way to realization. The government finally conceded on abrogation but Katō noted on 19 December 1934 that there were rumours of a movement to postpone abrogation amongst the Japanese diplomats in London. Katō immediately contacted Katō, Vice-Chief of the Naval General Staff who reassured him they would respond quickly to such moves. Then on 19 December the Supreme Military Council approved the decision to announce the abrogation of the treaties and on 22 December notification was sent to Washington. Katō was clearly delighted and on the day the notification was announced, Katō’s biographers described it thus: Receiving the report of the Japanese government’s formal notice to the US Government, sent on 29 December 1934, declaring the abrogation of the Washington Treaty after twelve long years, it was said that ‘the anxiety and worry Katō had been feeling all these years suddenly dispersed like as fog before a bright sunlight, and his joy was intense, uplifting his spirit’. Given his deeply emotional nature, this description


could only be apt. When he received the report on the abrogation his joy was almost unbearable. He changed into full uniform and reported in front of Togo’s tomb in Tama cemetery so that his soul would be comforted and eased by the news. On his way home Katō visited Ogasawara wishing to share the joy of this occasion. Since he was not at home Katō left his card on which he wrote he wrote the following message: At last the announcement of the abrogation of the treaty has been made. We are now at the dawn of the revival of the Imperial Navy and I have just been to Tama cemetery. I have reported in front of our departed Admiral of the Fleet’s tomb and I feel I have slightly eased his soul.50 Katō wrote again in his diary on 3 January that: I walked through the streets of Atami. Today they were crowded with people toasting the abrogation of the treaties. Their spirits and morale were high and, viewing the situation, I felt like shouting ‘Its good’.51 At the end of January 1935, Katō was approached by the Deputy Navy Minister Hasegawa Kiyoshi and asked to chair the Navy’s High Technology Committee, the highest advisory body to the Navy Minister on advances in naval technology. Katō accepted and this was effectively his last major duty as a serving officer. This again indicates the duality of Katō, in terms of his own thinking and in the way he was perceived by others. On the one hand he was a traditionalist who had always retained a deep feeling for the spiritual aspects of Japanese culture. But he also had a great knowledge and respect for new technology. This appointment reflected the fact that he was highly regarded by the navy in technical matters. His past appointments also indicated that he was increasingly perceived as a guardian of the Japanese warrior spirit. Katō’s influence at the Navy War College was still considerable and he was a constant visitor and speaker. Harada was told by one naval officer lecturing there in May 1935, that he was experiencing great difficulty, since Katōs interpretation of the constitution, regarding the right of the Supreme Command, was making the delivery of lectures very difficult.52 On 2 November 1935, Katō reached the age of 65 and retired from active service including the Supreme Military Council. Thus ended a distinguished naval career spanning 42 years. Immediately prior to his official retirement, the question had arisen of Katō’s possible promotion to gensui (Admiral of the Fleet). He would have been, for many, an ideal successor to the late


Admiral Tōgō. Indeed Ishikawa Shingo the architect of the draft document for abrogating the Washington Treaties, had reported to Katō in 1933 that the young officers in the Fleet were voicing their support of Katō to be appointed Admiral of the Fleet.53 However, one of the principal requirements of an Admiral of the Fleet was that he had commanded a Fleet in wartime. Katō had of course commanded a squadron in the First World War and at Vladivostock but strictly speaking he was ineligible. However, the regulations were never strictly enforced and Katōs record was clearly more worthy of such an appointment than many other army and navy officers who had actually received this honour, including Prince Fushimi. It seems reasonable to assume that there were members of the Imperial Court, probably even including the Emperor himself, who would not have approved Katō’s elevation to such a powerful (and permanent) position. Moreover, Prince Fushimi who was on the Board of Fleet Admirals, was no longer particularly friendly towards Katō and this, too, may have militated against Katō receiving this distinction. Also, relations between Katō and Admiral Okada, the Prime Minister, were very strained indeed especially after the latter’s appointment as Premier. Interestingly, Katō’s long time friend and gunnery mentor Admiral Yamashita Gentarō had also been suggested as a suitable candidate for Admiral of the Fleet and had also been rejected. But Yamashita became a baron and this does seem to have been the normal way of honouring men who either did not qualify or were not regarded as suitable for appointment to Admiral of the Fleet. Katō was never appointed a baron, nor did he ever receive any significant civil honour. Indeed one can view the various imperial appointments he did receive as evidence that the Court could not ignore him completely but chose not to award permanent honours. Moreover, these appointments were narrowly military rather than civil honours. Undoubtedly there were many in the navy who wished Katō could continue in some capacity and Rear Admiral Katō, then vice Chief of the Naval General Staff, had suggested in 1933 that, in an emergency Katō could return as Chief of the Naval General Staff. American naval intelligence reports also deemed this likely should a war break out. In 1935 the press carried reports predicting Katō as a possible appointment as Governor-general of Formosa. Harada records that Katō’s name was suggested directly to the Premier but that the Foreign Minister had said to Admiral Okada ‘please stop the selection of Admiral Katō or even the selection of a military man’. The Premier, after consultation with the Governor-general of Formosa and the Foreign Minister then apparently said:’…to have Admiral Katō as Governor-general at this time would be very


dangerous. I will not appoint him’.54 Actually Katō did not want this appointment, although he might have been pleased to have been asked and might even have been persuaded. Katō favoured Admiral Kobayashi Seizō and he was in fact appointed.55 In September 1935, one month after the Premier had vetoed Katō as a possible Governor-general of Formosa, the Chief of the Metropolitan Police reported to Harada that Admirals Suetsugu and Katō and Generals Mazaki and Araki had joined forces and were making efforts to overthrow the cabinet.56 This was perceived as being orchestrated by Baron Hiranuma. Katō was probably in favour of Okada being replaced for personal reasons as well as because he felt that Okada would try to soften the Japanese position at the coming naval conference. Katō’s personal disappointments were probably softened somewhat by the prospects of a ‘successful’ naval conference at the end of the year. He must by now have been very confident that either the major Western naval powers would concede naval equality as a right or Japan would leave the conference. Japan was determined to have its inherent right of equality recognized at the London Conference and the Americans were equally determined on retaining the ratio system. Japan’s decision to abrogate the Washington Treaties effectively, destroyed any real chance of a Japanese concession on the lines of the Washington and London Conferences. This is not to say that Japan was unwilling to accept a naval arms limitation or naval disarmament agreement at the Second London Conference. But it did mean that any agreement would have to recognize their right to equality. The Second London Conference lasted from December 1935 to March 1936. As a result of the ‘hard-line’Japanese naval position, Japan predictably broke off negotiations and continued to attend only as an observer.57 The naval agreements reached were not signed by Japan, except for laws regulating submarine warfare and without Japan the agreements, while interesting, left the signatories with only the shell of international naval limitation. The result was an intensification of naval armament competition especially between Japan and America. KATŌ AND THE ‘FEBRUARY INCIDENT’ The London Conference continued until March 1936 although Japan took no active role after January. However, before the conference concluded Japan suffered an armed revolt by ‘Young Officers’ (and right wing extremists) of the army intent on over-throwing the cabinet, the so-called Ni Ni Roku Jiken (The February or 2.2.6 Incident). They intended to dispose of ‘traitors’ in


order to pave the way for a national renovation.58 Some 1500 troops occupied key points in Tokyo while bands of assassination squads from amongst the rebels roamed Tokyo in search of pre-selected targets. Amongst the targets were the Prime Minister Admiral Okada Keisuke, Grand Chamberlain Admiral Suzuki Kantarō and Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal, Admiral Saitō Makoto. Saito was killed, Suzuki badly injured and Okada had a most fortunate escape. It is no coincidence that these former navy officers targeted for assassination and labelled ‘traitors’ were all key naval elders of the pro-treaty faction during the London Naval Treaty Crisis of 1930. Two other major figures also active in that crisis were on the list, Prince Saionji and former Lord Keeper Count Makino. The Young Officers had counted on the support of anti-treaty navy officers such as Katō. But the navy, no doubt incensed by attacks on prominent navy men by army officers, threatened to turn the fleet guns in Tokyo harbour on the rebels and this was an important contributory factor in their eventual surrender. Katō never openly gave any sign of support for their actions although, in a testimony given to the police for the trials, he did actually show some sympathy for their ‘pure motives’ but felt that they should all have left a note and taken their own lives.59 Once again the events in 1930 had contributed to yet another outburst of political violence since: The greatest act of treason of the ruling clique was the ratification of the London naval treaty. This was cited by both the May 15 1932 rebels and those of February 26 1936 as major grounds for their actions.60 One report by United States naval intelligence in Tokyo actually stated that the insurgents were demanding Hiranuma or Katō Kanji for Premier, but Shillony’s detailed study makes no mention of this, although it does name others proposed by the insurgents. However, a second American report repeated this saying a military dictatorship under either Katō or Baron Hiranuma was demanded.61 As with earlier outbreaks of violence by military officers, Katō may have been guilty by association, but supporting evidence for any direct link with insurgents is extremely weak. Katō’s retirement seems mainly to have been spent contemplating Japan’s experience with naval limitation. In an article he pub lished In March 1936, Katō commented on the decision to leave the naval limitation system. He conceded that the chances of war could be lessened by mutual limitations of armaments but only if it was achieved:


In a manner that does not stir up ill feelings. If it is attempted on a basis that is not impartial, prohibiting to one nation what is allowed to another, it not only fails to alleviate the situation, but tends to arouse resentment that makes the situation all the worse.62 In an obvious reference to his own delegation’s mistakes at Washington in 1921/22, Katō suggested that making decisions under pressure or by misjudgement could well place a country in a position where its own hands would be tied and other countries’ superiority recognized. This would lead to insecurity and efforts to carry out increases in armaments outside the scope of the agreements. He stressed that it was not armaments but men who were the cause of wars. He proposed: To alleviate world tension by a treaty guaranteeing mutual nonaggression and limiting the powers to a level that will be the same for all of them and so low that none can adopt a challenging attitude, thereby discouraging aggressive ambition…63 He went on to say that, at the recent conference at London, Japan had this in mind and had therefore proposed the right of the five Washington Treaty signatories to have ‘equal volumes of naval armaments’, a reduction to a common upper limit and scope for each Power to distribute its armaments within that limit in the way it saw fit. This, Katō believed, would remove inequality, reduce naval expenditures and take into account the special needs of each country. It would moreover have permitted a naval race, within safe limits, which would safeguard the morale of officers and permit further progress in technology. The Washington agreements might well have had some validity, he agreed, but developments since then had changed the situation dramatically, especially advances in naval aviation. Katō then attacked the outmoded ideas of the British and the ‘America First’ concept which he found to be an acceptable quest in the cultural sphere but not in armaments. Parity with other nations was all that the United States needed, Katō argued, since her potential was so great that, in the event of war, she would easily and quickly outstrip less well endowed nations. Katō saw the real need was for concessions by the Great Powers to the weak rather than the reverse. He then pointed out that discriminatory ratios had never been successful, pointing to the Anglo-German discussions on a 16:10 ratio before the First World War which worsened rather than improved Anglo-German relations. Ironically it was just around this time (1937) that Germany actually agreed to an inferior ratio with Britain, but in this case it meant an increase


from zero to one third for Germany.64 For Katō the previous naval limitation agreements from Washington onward had been ‘coercive disarmament’ (by the United States and Great Britain) rather than ‘voluntary disarmament’. Katō believed that the American determination to cling to the status quo was the problem and that this was being done in spite of the fact that many people, even Americans, realized that the ‘inferior ratio’ was an ‘evil’. The Japanese position he stated more than once, was one of non-menace and nonaggression. Although not stated explicitly Katō was obviously referring to the fact that a 10:6 ratio gave the American fleet an offensive capacity in Japanese home waters. In this article Katō saw no future for massive armament building since technological obsolescence was rendering the lifespan of equipment even shorter. He did not believe that racing by others would bankrupt Japan since Japan’s own ‘creative genius’ would be able to come up with appropriate weapons systems which Japan could afford and which suited her particular needs. He observed that the American obsession with the capital ship was misguided since aviation now threatened to render these vessels, and any others not constructed with air power in mind, obsolete. Great Britain and the United States would not build massive armaments against Japan after the latter left the conference, he continued, since such increases would frighten France, Italy and Germany into intensifying their efforts in naval construction. Katō then turned to the key element in the antagonistic relationship between the Anglo-American powers and Japan. Japan was in trouble, internationally, he felt, because of her position as the ‘stabilizing force in East Asia’ and ‘her destined mission of rescuing her neighbours from their plight’ and ‘consolidating Oriental peace’. For Katō the desire to retain the 5: 5:3 ratio, particularly by America but also by Great Britain ‘is born of their excessive ambition to have sufficient dominance to expand their influence in Asia and monopolise its markets’.65 This was not vital to the AngloAmericans, he felt, but simply selfish yet it was vital to the survival of Japan: To the Japanese, however, it involves their very existence and the spirit of Yamato race, tempered during the 3,000 years since the founding of the empire has the fervour and vitality to defend its righteous cause in defiance of all the science, skill and wealth the West can muster. We who are sailors are prepared for any emergency in the firm belief that the empire can again be safeguarded as it was in the battle of the Japan Sea.66


One does not have to agree with Katō, especially his implicit assumption that Japan rather than the West, was to lead Asia out of its ‘plight’, to see that Katō’s thinking was consistent with his statements over the years on the unfairness of discriminatory ratios, American ambitions and technological developments. He repeats again the reference to Japan overcoming vastly superior material forces as she had done in the Russo-Japanese War. This, of course, can clearly be interpreted as a further emphasis on Japanese spiritual power overcoming Western material superiority but there is another possibility. Since Japan was always going to be materially inferior, one could hardly build up defence forces on the basis of the inevitability of defeat. He may have felt that Japan had to stress spiritual strength for morale purposes. Therefore this may have been realism rather than a regression into some mystical Japanese spiritual superiority (Yamato damishii). In conclusion, Katō firmly stated his views that clearly reflected a ‘realist’ interpretation of international relations: If a nation is provided with the armaments necessary for security, however, and backs its policies with unanimity and high morale it will be relatively secure from war. It will be respected and this respect will allow peaceful adjustment of most issues. This is the philosophy underlying Japan’s rejection of the ratio principle and her advocacy of non-menace and non-aggression.67 In 1936 Katō’s name was considered in discussions for Navy Minister but Yamamoto Isoroku then Deputy Navy Minister was against it telling Harada: In certain respects one can place confidence in the ability of Admiral Suetsugu. His opinions are not as unreasonable as those of Admiral Katō Kanji.68 Suetsugu, however, was overruled by Prince Fushimi, Chief of the Naval General Staff and the ill feeling on the part of Yamamoto to Katō seems to have been reciprocated.69 In 1939 Hiranuma once again began to feature in the list of candidates for Premier and, since Saionji was now dead, Hiranuma finally received this appointment. However, Katō secretary noted Katō’s great disappointment that after being appointed Premier, Hiranuma did not contact Katō at all.70 For Katō this final rejection by Hiranuma and perhaps the realization that he had simply been cynically manipulated by the politician probably hastened his death. Katō retired to his summer residence in Atami and began writing his recollections of the London Treaty Crisis.


According to one press report, he was so delighted when he finished the manuscript on 2 February 1939 that he told a member of his family: ‘I’ve finished my work and am ready to die at any moment’. The following morning Katō died of a cerebral haemorrhage at the age of 69. He had spent the last remaining days of his life reliving the painful events of 1930 and the Japan Advertiser ran a headline which adequately summed this up: ‘Admiral Katō’s death—A final attack on the London Naval Treaty.’ Katō’s funeral was a magnificent affair attended by over one thousand people including Imperial Princes and Prime Ministers. Admiral Prince Fushimi, representing the navy, gave an address and former Prime Minister Admiral Okada Keisuke from Katō’s own village, spoke representing the Hashimoto Sanai Society. Okada later unveiled a special commemorative memorial in Fukui which still stands there today. The Prime Minister Baron Hiranuma also attended although Katō’s secretary Sakai Keinan felt he had behaved appallingly in not contacting Katō after taking up the premiership. Katō’s popularity at this time was considerable and many naval officers, Japanese and Western, felt that the Imperial Japanese Navy had lost a fine officer and one who would undoubtedly have been recalled to active service in a future war. Katō’s popularity later received a further boost as books about him were produced showing him as an example for Japanese wartime youth to emulate. Moreover Japan’s early successes in the Pacific War, attributed to such factors as superior training and highly developed night combat skills, were deemed by many of his admirers to be a legacy of Katō’s continuing influence on Japanese naval personnel. Equally his critics would probably have attributed the Japanese navy’s later weaknesses such as ‘victory disease’ to what they would have seen as Katō’s overemphasis on the superiority of Japanese spirit over Western material power. Katō’s last years, from the ratification of the London Treaty to his death, were years of minor triumphs and major setbacks. The events surrounding the ‘treaty crisis’ continued to involve Katō, sometimes personally and sometimes by association. He did intervene in politics again in 1931 in an attempt to force the government to keep its promise on supplementary budgets to make up for ‘deficiencies’ in the naval strength allotted in the London Treaty. Again it was rather clumsy if well intentioned. His name was linked with the violence of the 1930s from the assassination of Premier Hamaguchi through the various ‘Young Officer’ revolts although there is no concrete evidence whatsoever of any real involvement by him. Katō was certainly consulted on many important naval matters relating to the revision of the Naval General Staff to Japan’s decision not to renew the Washington Treaty agreements. In part, this was a natural consequence of his being a


Supreme Military Councillor, but it was also due to the fact that the navy was led by officers who could well be described as followers of Katō or at least officers whose thinking tended to be along similar lines. Katō was undoubtedly useful in naval politics but the decline in contacts and the fact that often he was consulted long after developments began, indicates perhaps that he was no longer a principal actor. Events touched him rather than resulted from his own initiatives. Katō could have been in no doubt that there was a penalty to pay for the events of the traumatic political crisis of 1930. Although he received certain honorary duties, usually of a military nature as well as minor presentations to the Emperor, he did not receive the kind of honours many felt he merited. His was as ruled out as a candidate for the premiership and passed over for Governor-general of Formosa and even passed over for Navy Minister but perhaps the unkindest cut of all was that he was blocked as Admiral of the Fleet. In itself these would have been bitter blows but in fact, Katō saw two former colleagues, Admirals Saitō Makoto and Okada Keisuke elevated consecutively to the premiership. This was all the more ironic since these officers had played a major role in the pro-treaty camp in 1930 and were reaching the highest political office just when their opponents were taking over key positions in the navy. Katō was bitterly disappointed in Okada’s appointment and even went so far as to refuse to attend celebratory functions for Fukui’s other leading naval officer. He saw Prince Fushimi, his junior in the service and far less qualified than he was elevated to admiral of the fleet His greatest moment was undoubtedly the day that Japan announced that she would not renew the Washington treaties. In the end the appointments which may have given him the greatest pleasure or pride were the Chairmanships of the Yasukuni Shrine Committees, the Imperial Appointment as High Priest at Tōgō’s funeral and perhaps his selection to give the national address at the commemorative celebrations for the ‘Imperial Rescript to Soldiers and Sailors’. These in a sense indicated how closely he was associated with the military and perhaps spiritual side of Japanese life. His final appointment as a serving officer had been as Chairman of the navy’s highest committee on technology and together with those other honorific appointments indicated the dual nature and strengths of the man, that very special blending of tradition and technology.


Notes 1 The figures for the Navy Supplementary Programme, proposed and approved, are to be found in Itō Takashi, Shōwa Shoki Seijishi Kenkyū, (Tokyo, 1969), p. 188 and p. 192 respectively. 2 Thomas F Mayer Oakes, (ed. and tr.), Fragile Victory: Saionji-Harada Memoirs, (Detroit, 1968), p. 257. 3 ibid., p. 258. 4 op. cit., Itō Takashi, p. 251. 5 op. cit., Mayer-Oakes, p. 253. 6 The assassination incident is described in detail by Kobayashi Tatsuo in TSM, Vol. 1, pp. 151–152. 7 op. cit., Mayer Oakes, pp. 272ff. 8 An excellent description of the debates over the supplementary budget is to be found in op. cit., Itō Takashi, pp. 188–194. 9 op. cit., Mayer Oakes, p. 277 and Okada Nikki, 23/2/30, (p. 207). Page numbers in parentheses indicate pages of printed diary in Okada Teikan (ed.), Okada Keisuke Kaikoroku, (Tokyo, 1977). Katō was also thought to be linked to the right wing Aikokusha. 10 ibid. 11 op. cit., Itō Takashi, p. 252. 12 The best treatments of the Japanese Army and Manchuria are James Crowley, Japan’s Quest for Autonomy: National Security and Foreign Policy, (Princeton, 1966) and Sadako Ogata, Defiance in Manchuria: The Making of Japanese Foreign Policy 1931–32, (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1964). 13 For the political background to these events see especially Gordon M Berger, Parties out of Power in Japan, 1931–1941, (Princeton, 1977) and Norman S Hastings, The Seiyukai and Party Government in Japan, 1924–1932, Ph.D., (University of Kansas, 1977) 14 The best analysis in English of the Young Officer’s movement in the 1930s is Ben Ami Shillony, Revolt in Japan, (Princeton, 1973) 15 For the international significance of the Shanghai Incident see Christopher Thorne ‘The Shanghai crisis of 19321 the Basis of British Policy’, American Historical Review, Vol. LXXV, No. 6, (October 1970). 16 These were known respectively as the ‘March Incident’ and the ‘October Incident’. For details see op. cit., Shillony, Revolt in Japan. 17 op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 15/5/32, (p. 229). Katō’s diary for 1932–37 is reproduced in printed form in Sakai Keinan Eiketsu Katō Kanji, (Tokyo 1979) pp. 209–347. Page numbers in parentheses after Katō Nikki entries refer to this book. 18 Kido Koichi, Kido Koichi Nikki, 2 Vols (Tokyo, 1966), Vol. 1, 28/8/33, p. 252. 19 ibid., 16/9/33, (p. 261). 20 Katō Kanji Nikki, 14/5/32, (p. 229). 21 For details concerning the formation of ‘National Unity Cabinets’ see op. cit., Berger, pp. 49–53. 22 The best analyses of this struggle between the Naval General Staff and the Navy Ministry are Kobayashi Tatsuo, ‘Tōsuiken Kanpanron to Kaigun Gunreibu Jōrei no Kaisei’, Kokugakuin Hōgaku Zasshi, Vol. 5, No. 5, (April 1968), no. 215–248 and


23

24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

32 33 34 35

36 37 38 39

Nomura Minoru, ‘Kaigun Gunreibu no Kengen Kakudai no Rekishi to Onken-ha Kaigun Shunō no Rigeneki’, in his Rekishi no naka no Nihon no Kaigun, (Tokyo, 1980), no. 46–80.See also my The Politicisation of the Japanese General Staff Sheffield East Asia Research Paper No 16 (Sheffield 1996) Prince Fushimi vehemently denied that this was the reason for his selection but some of the navy leadership were very lukewarm about his appointment. Harada noted that former Navy Ministers Abo, Osumi and Okada were most troubled about the appointment. Harada Kumao. Saionji-ko to Seikvoku, 9 vols (Tokyo, 1950–56), Vol. 2, pp. 197ff. Apparently it was Admiral of the Fleet Tōgō Heihachirō who proposed Prince Fushimi and the Supreme Military Councillors were apparently afraid of offending the Gensui. There is no evidence that Katō Kanji initiated this appointment although he had been close to Prince Fushimi since their time together at Etajima. Nevertheless, Katō would certainly have supported Admiral Tōgō. Yale Candee Maxon, Control of Japanese Foreign Policy, (Westport, 1975), p. 227. fn22. op. cit., Nomura Minoru, p. 58. ibid., p. 58. This term is used by Kobayashi Tatsuo in op. cit., TSM, Vol. 1, p. 152. Kaneko is the anonymous author of ‘The Autonomous Power of the Japanese Military’, reprinted in Foreign Relations of the United States: Japan 1931–1941, Vol. 1, pp. 689–695. The document is dated 18 December and, on the original W Cameron Forbes wrote that the author’s name was not to be released. For a comment on Kaneko’s influence, especially legal influence on Katō Kanji see op. cit., Sakai, pp. 93–95. Sakai was Katō’s private secretary in the 1930s but I was unable to obtain an interview with him. Katō’s diaries contain numerous references to Kaneko’s constitutional interpretations and advice in 1929, 1930, 1932 and 1933. He would appear to have been a far more influential Privy Councillor than Baron Hiranuma as far as Katō was concerned. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 6/8/33, (pp. 260–261). op. cit., Kido, Vol. 1, 30/9/33, p. 268. Asada Sadao, ‘The Japanese Navy and the United States’, in Borg and S Okamoto (eds), Pearl Harbor as History: Japanese-American Relations 1931–41, (New York, 1973), p. 232. op. cit., Harada, Vol. 3, pp. 172–173. op. cit., Asada, p. 259. National Archives, Records Group 59, ONI 895.00 reports, 27/7133. Commander Ishikawa Shingo, like some other military officers at this time, was involved in writing books under an assumed name. Such literature implicitly and explicitly described Asian and world developments from narrow military perspectives. For an assessment of this in relation to Ishikawa see Kudo Michirō ‘Kaigun Gunshuku Jōyaku Ridatsugo no Nihon no Kaigun’ Gunji Shigaku, Vol. 15, No. 1. Ishikawa wrote under the name Otani Hayato and his book Nihon Kore Kyuki was published in 1931. op. cit., Rengō Kantai (1), p. 280. op. cit., KKD, p. 930. ibid., pp. 931–938, reproduces Katō.’s speech. op. cit., Harada, Vol. 3, p. 323.


40 41 42 43 44 45 46

47

48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57

58 59 60 61

62 63 64 65 66 67 68

ibid., Vol. 4, pp. 34–35. op. cit., Kido, Vol. 1, p. 350. op. cit., Harada, Vol. 4, p. 33. ibid., Vol. 3, p. 333. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 18/6/34, (p. 288). ibid., 9/7/34, (p. 292). One is continually faced with the problem of how to measure Katō Kanji’s influence and/or power at any one time. One cannot ‘prove’ that Katō created the state of mind existing within the Naval general Staff. It seems equally plausible that, in the true traditions of ‘groupthink’ Katō may have been reflecting the organisational consensus over time. his diary at this time does not support the contention that he was actively pursuing matters with active service officers. It merely shows that he had visits from such officers from time to time asking his advice. Katō Hirokazu (comp), Katō Kanji Kankei Bunsho, Vol. 3, Document 14. These documents are held, in bound folders (4) at the library of the Social Science Research Institute, University of Tokyo. ibid. ibid. op. cit., KKD, p. 766. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 3/1/35, (p. 306). op. cit., Harada, Vol. 4, p. 248. op. cit., Katō Kanji Nikki, 18/1/33, (p. 245). op. cit., Harada, Vol. 4, pp. 257–259. op. cit., Sakai, p. 111. op. cit., Harada, Vol. 4, p. 342. Stephen Pelz, Race to Pearl Harbor: The Failure of the Second London Naval Conference and the Onset of World War II, (Cambridge, Mass., 1974), Pelz utilizes British, American and Japanese sources in this book. However some caution should be exercised regarding the range and interpretations of Japanese sources utilized as well as his conclusions regarding the causes and consequences of naval arms races. For good general summaries see the works of Richard Burns and Donald Urquidi and Unno Yoshiro listed in the bibliography. Also useful is Kobayashi Tatsuo in TSM, Vol. 1. op. cit., Shillony, p. 122. op. cit., Ni Ni Roku Jiken Hiroku, Vol. 2, p. 337. op. cit., Shillony, p. 11 National Archives Record Group 45 ONI 894.00 620 dated 6/3/36. ‘It is understood that at first the insurgents had demanded a military dictatorship under Admiral Katō Kanji or Baron Hiranuma’. Katō Kanji, ‘Fundamentals of Disarmament’, Contemporary Japan, Vol. 4, No. 4, (March 1936), p. 488. ibid., p. 488. ibid., p. 491. ibid., p. 494. ibid., p. 494. ibid., p. 495. op. cit., Harada, Vol. 5, p. 228.


69 op. cit., Sakai, pp. 111–121. 70 ibid., pp. 92–93.

Conclusion

Katō Kanji’s career parallels the history of the remarkable rise of the Imperial Japanese Navy. He was present and involved in many of the key developments in Japanese naval history. He witnessed Japanese powerlessness to prevent the takeover of Hawaii by US gunboat diplomacy in the late nineteenth century, participated in the Sino-Japanese War and then making a more significant contribution, ashore and afloat in the Russo Japanese War. He then later was involved in naval negotiations over the revision of the AngloJapanese alliance, saw diplomatic duties as naval attaché to Great Britain, commanded forces in World War 1 in support of the Royal nay and was in charge of naval operations in the Siberian Intervention immediately following World War 1. During the first two decades of the twentieth century, in addition to active service in combat he occupied all the leading naval educational positions. At the beginning of the 1920s then, viewed from the perspective of Japanese naval history Katō emerges, and history would have judged him most positively, as a one of the most brilliant naval officers of his generation, a leader, an educator, a skilled technocrat, superb linguist, expert on international relations, a Russian specialist and honoured by Britain, the USA and New Zealand for his naval prowess in war and peace. Whilst he did have considerable management skills and could competently carry out administrative responsibilities his reputation was as a leader, one more at home with the fleet than on shore-based assignments. However much historical writing on the man offers us a markedly different and exceedingly negative image of him. This is directly attributable to his involvement in naval arms limitation disputes, a theme that was to occupy the second half of his career and indeed his retirement. He is characterized in much of writing on this subject as a ‘good natured but not too bright old sea dog’. narrow minded, traditionalist and even irrational. Katō Kanji was no simple sailor or ‘seadog’ of the blue water school but rather a highly intelligent, principled and loyal naval officer whose great contribution to the IJN has been lost in the collateral damage suffered by him

326 CONCLUSION

and other opponents of the naval limitation ratios agreements at Washington (1921/22) and London (1930). His principled stand, right or wrong, against the ‘inferior ratios’ allocated to the Japanese navy at these conferences has resulted in him being portrayed in the literature, by contemporaries and later scholars alike, in a wholly negative and biased way. He undoubtedly made a most distinguished contribution to the Japanese Navy and he deserves to be recognized more widely in Japan and externally for that. His leadership qualities were widely recognized and had he lived he would have been a leading candidate for Chief of the Naval General Staff in World War Two. However, Katō Kanji’s later career, from the Washington Conference on and especially during the London Naval Treaty crisis and its aftermath, provides us with a second and arguably more important reason for studying the man and his career. It is the wider implications and impact of Katō’s political involvement, whether as the prime mover, symbol or even puppet over naval treaty agreements that a political biography of the man is important. Indeed, it provides in some ways a unique and helpful contribution to our understanding of late Taishō and early Shōwa politics and international relations, civil-military and intramilitary relations, civilian control of the military and military role expansion (intervention) in politics. In addition, it is a telling insight into the impact of externally imposed (naval) arms limitation agreements on the political system especially the fragile emerging democratic development of Japanese domestic politics. Moreover, it also highlights the impact of these agreements in exposing the fault lines in civil-military, inter-military and intra military relations. Katō’s reputation and indeed his major significance in Japanese political history is inextricably linked to the so-called Washington Treaty system and the subject of naval arms limitation. Therefore any real attempt to provide a more balanced evaluation of Katō’s role in these developments must be underpinned by an awareness of the arms limitation and arms race issues in general. Katō’s position, shared by a considerable number of people inside and outside the Japanese navy has, it is argued here, been at best inadequately researched and analysed or at worst deliberately ignored or even distorted. The negative imagery surrounding Katō can only really be understood through examining and indeed questioning the mindset and assumptions of Katō’s critics, especially the academic critics, what we might call the ‘anti-Katō’ faction. This hopefully will provide a counterbalance in the scholarly treatment of Japan’s involvement in naval arms limitation which, to quote Arthur Tiedemann when praising the scholarly work of Kobayashi Tatsuo’s seminal study of the naval limitation agreements Kobayashi Tatsuo and others have tended to see the naval arms limitation


debates in Japan ‘refracted through the prism of the “treaty faction”’.1 He goes on to state that Kobayashi perhaps has been too influenced by the fact that he depended heavily on foreign ministry documents. These comments are also apposite when it comes to others who have written on Katō and naval limitation especially Asada Sadao and Stephen Pelz. Their perspectives form a very consistent mindset and despite their skilful and often extensive use of Japanese sources they appear to have reached their conclusions based on assumptions which reflect both a one-sided, somewhat idealistic view of arms limitation on these negotiations coupled with a totally uncritical perspective on the American position. First, let us consider the following thesis that lies at the very heart of the anti-Katō faction comprising contemporaries and later diplomatic historians. It is that Katō and others objected to naval limitation, sought to and succeeded in abrogating the Washington treaty system, restarted the naval arms race and this, plus purging their opponents created a navy which led Japan into a conflict with the Anglo-American powers. If we begin with the issue of naval limitation one does not see in the extant scholarly analysis on Japan any hint of scepticism and suspicion in the process. There seems to be a marked propensity to assume that arms limitation is synonymous with disarmament stops arms races and must therefore be a good thing. Thus opponents of naval limitation are against disarmament, and thus against peace and must therefore be warmongers. Indeed, those who opposed the naval limitation agreements reached (which is not the same as opposing arms limitation in principle) tend to be described as somewhat akin to the ‘forces of darkness’ irrational, bellicose, short-sighted, narrow-minded, etc, whilst those who supported Japan accepting the compromises were portrayed in an extremely positive light as the ‘forces of good’, rational, sophisticated, far sighted, etc. The generous smattering of arms limitation terminology and metaphors in the writings of scholars such as Asada and Pelz, unlike for example Dingman whose study is much more balanced and sound on arms limitation and arms race theories, ignore the realpolitik of arms limitation negotiations and arms races. The Washington Treaty system did not stop the naval arms race; it merely re-directed it into auxiliary vessels and other weapons systems. Thus, Katō and his followers can hardly be accused of restarting a naval race that actually had not stopped. Second there is no consensus in the scholarly writings on arms control that arms races, naval or otherwise, lead inexorably to war as Pelz argued and Asada has restated in his most recent writings.2 There is at least a case for arguing that ‘perceived unfair’ agreements on arms limita-tion are at least as likely to trigger tensions that lead to war. It is

328 CONCLUSION

therefore quite wrong to assign to Katō and his followers responsibilities for the descent into war because they argued against agreements or even argued for abrogation of agreements which they felt endangered national security. It is equally possible to argue that the US insistence on ratios giving its navy an offensive capacity in Japanese home waters whilst denying Japan a defensive ratio designed to win a decisive battle within Japanese home waters, was possibly as likely to have been the trigger that led to the rupturing of Japanese civil military relations. This in turn may have contributed to the descent into war. Opponents of a particular political position, especially if they end up on the losing side, are often vilified not to say demonised. by the victors and this is clearly the case with the analysis of the so-called Fleet Faction in general and Katō Kanji himself in particular. The point here is not to suggest that the so-called ‘hard-liners’ such as Katō were actually correct in the positions taken. One does however need to ensure that, before one takes sides on the historical record, it is incumbent to understand the perspectives especially the underlying assumptions of both sides. Tiedemann again, the only American I have read to actually look at the Japanese position sympathetically (and the leading authority on the Hamaguchi cabinet and politics in 1930 Japan), points out the ‘perhaps justified security concerns of the Navy General Staff’.3 It is much better to accept that a position has some justification even if circumstances in Japan at that time dictated a political solution which undermined that narrower, technical position. The hardliners’ realist view of naval limitation must be understood as having a rationality even if opponents disagree and even if one can only concede that it is a ‘limited’ or ‘bounded’ rationality. To deny the perspective of Katō and others any legitimacy is bad enough but to dismiss it completely whilst portraying anyone who has this perspective as ‘extremist’, is irrational. A warmonger or, worse still, ‘simple seadogs’, is hardly conducive to a balanced historical analysis. This realist view holds that that one side (in this case the USA) may wish to see the status quo established giving themselves permanent superiority or who see arms limitation not as a process for avoiding war but rather an extension of domestic politics and survival by avoiding excessive military expenditures which could bankrupt economies and thus bring down governments. These assumptions in the past and even today legitimately permit a measure of scepticism and even suspicion of advocates of arms limitation. This comment on a suspicion of the American position leads us to the second element in the ‘anti-Katō mindset, a more worrying one, namely the total lack of criticism of the positions taken by the Americans against Japan in the arms limitation treaty negotiations in the extant academic literature. This


mindset seems to assume that Japan had no choice but to compromise and that the United States was doing nothing wrong in trying to impose inferior ratios on Japan. There is plenty of evidence that many Japanese thought that Japan should take a harder line with the US negotiators and might have avoided conference meltdown and gained greater concessions. More importantly one might have wished to see arguments pointing out that US naval officers at the time agreed that the superior ratios were designed to provide the US Navy with an offensive capacity in Japanese home waters. One can find this in studies of Anglo-American naval limitation negotiations but not where Japan is concerned. One is left wondering whether such a perspective is deliberately avoided lest the author be labelled a Japanese apologist. Asada, an American trained diplomatic historian and Stephen Pelz, an American diplomatic historian (as well as Evans and Peattie echoing precisely the Asada/Pelz line4) seem to accept the US proposals as reasonable and offer no criticisms whatsoever of the American positions adopted at Washington and London 1930. Leaving aside the aggressive nature of the United States over their ambitions in terms of sea power at a time when this was the criteria they were determinedly seeking to achieve naval parity with Britain at all costs, these scholars signally fail to point out the aggressive and self-serving nature of the US position vis a vis Japan. For example, where does anyone point out that the USA changed the definition of ‘existing strength’ from ‘ships built and building’ at Washington to ‘ships built, building and planned’ at London. The Japanese on the other hand stuck to a consistent position, namely that ‘existing strength’ related to ships which were actually in existence and ready for action. More importantly, the US definitions in each case were inherently advantageous to the USA and were unquestionably designed to give the US a superiority overall and indeed an offensive capacity in Japanese home waters in order to bring Japan to heel over her continental Asian and especially China-related ambitions. On the other hand, Japan’s ratios were designed to defeat the US navy in Japanese home waters, a defensive strategy. Therefore, to dismiss Japanese opponents of the treaty settlements as basing their opposition on meaningless ratios merely compounds the problem since the American naval planners based their strategies at the conferences on an artificially created set of superior ratios based on a conveniently changing American definition of ‘existing strength’. Finally, sceptics of arms limitation agreements especially international ones realise that narrower domestic political objectives often lie behind the rhetoric of peace and disarmament. Whilst undoubtedly brave and extremely adroit in the political battles that ensured over Washington and London

330 CONCLUSION

Japan’s premiers were accepting compromises that met their own domestic objectives, namely control military expenditure especially naval expenditure to stabilise the economy and stay in power. International arms limitation agreements were seen in Japan (and in other countries too) as a useful external pressure (gaiatsu) to bring in policies that might have been fatal to their terms in office had they not had to ‘succumb’ to this pressure from a more powerful external adversary. This surely is grounds for at least accepting that certain Japanese naval officers and especially the so-called ‘hardliners’ such as Katō Kanji might have had some justification for perceiving the US approach to naval arms limitation vis a vis Japan as unfair. To dismiss Katō Kanji’s views as simply irrational (although of course one can disagree with them) does not take us very far whereas accepting Tiedemann’s view that such views ‘reflected long held opinions, deeply rooted in a serious and coherent world view’ whether one agreed with these views or not would seem at least to move the debate forward in a more balanced way. The fact that this world view was a realist one and increasingly more sceptical of arms limitation agreements, especially as they spread from capital ships to auxiliaries, is important in understanding Katō and those who felt as he did. One can then argue that his view, from the overall perspective of Japan and not the narrow perspective of the navy, was wrong but not dismiss him and those of like mind who thought like him altogether as simpleminded, emotive, irrational seadogs. The whole debate over naval limitation in Japan concerning the Washington Treaty system contributes to our understanding of the nature of civil-military relations in Japan. In particular it contributes to our understanding of the evolution of civilian control of the military that we see being exercised first during the Washington Conference and especially by the Premier, Cabinet and Imperial Household Ministry during the London Treaty and Supreme Command crisis. However this effort to bring a military more under control did eventually rebound on the civilians. It triggered two major efforts to strengthen the Naval General Staff, in the immediate aftermath of both Washington and London and arguably this would have happened whether Katō was in position or not. This strengthening of the ‘command’ organisation was a logical defensive move to ensure that military perspectives were ensured of a proper hearing. Such a strengthening included appointing Imperial Princes, redefining the relationship between the Naval General Staff and the Ministries etc. The other side of the civil-military relations equation however is military role expansion and especially overt and indeed violent intervention in the political process. Although often portrayed as less likely to intervene than their army counter-parts navy men


did intervene in politics, especially when their interests are threatened. This clearly happened with Katō Kanji and others of like mind. They did intervene and often excessively, and their efforts were used, at the very least symbolically, to justify political violence by right wing ultranationalists and young naval and army officers especially when arms limitation debates were seen to ‘infringe’ the rights of the Supreme Command’. However it should be pointed out that massive political intervention inn politics did occur from naval officers sympathetic to the Treaty faction as well, however given the conventional wisdom one is forced to draw f from the extant literature, they were on the side of right so it was acceptable! Nevertheless arms limitation, if perceived as ‘unfair’ to any of the participants, will undoubtedly strain civil military relations and often will lead to military role expansion thus threatening civilian control. The Japanese experience in this area merits further study. If we now turn to a reassessment of Katō, this study challenges stereotyping that has dominated English language (and much of the negative Japanese language) scholarship on him. Unless this is done we have arguably only a black and white, praise and blame simplistic view of Katō which does no justice whatsoever to a brilliant man, whether one agrees or disagrees with his views and actions. Let us then revisit some of the labels attached to the man. Katō was, and is still often been referred to as simple, narrow minded, overly traditional and irrational as well as implacably and inflexibly opposed to naval limitations. The dominant portrayal of Katō in the extant academic literature, echoing the views of some of Katō’s contemporaries, is of Katō as ‘simple’, a ‘good natured but not too bright old sea dog’ a ‘simple hearted but quick tempered man. However the term ‘simple’ here can be seen as both negative and positive. In negative terms Katō’s numerous contemporary critics, as well as his political enemies and also some later scholars, have attempted to portray him as simple and contrast it with the ‘clever’ political officers in the Navy Ministry either implicitly or explicitly. The available evidence indicates clearly that Katō Kanji was one of the most brilliant officers of his generation or indeed of the pre-war Imperial Japanese Navy. However, to be fair to his critics, one can accept that he does appear to have been at times somewhat naive or simplistic in terms of Japanese domestic politics. He himself would perhaps have taken this as a compliment since he abhorred the nature of party politics and the clever ‘machinations of political types, some of whom such as his subordinate Admiral Suetsugu Nobumasa and senior politicians such as Hiranuma Kiichirō or Kaneko Kantarō did, at times, manipulate him. Indeed Katō probably tended to overestimate his own ability in domestic

332 CONCLUSION

politics at least when it came to naval arms limitation although his suspicions of the Americans were based on considerable personal experience and study of the US Navy and American foreign policy. It is, however, clearly not ‘simple’ in intellectual terms but ‘simple’ in personality that is more applicable to Katō. Some Japanese naval scholars and especially the doyen of Japanese naval historians Ikeda Kiyoshi, have used ‘simple’ to mean uncomplicated, direct, showing his heart on his sleeve, a man of action or even ‘straight’, that is to say, someone unwilling to compromise on principles no matter the personal cost. Here we are describing a particular naval type, a ‘rat catcher’ rather than a ‘regulator’, an action-oriented leader rather than a naval administrator/politician of the kind who invariably inclined to Navy Ministry and political careers. The need to be straightforward, often emotionally so, and the inability to resort to manipulating others and a certain clumsiness in the corrupt environment of domestic politics can be regarded positively as manifestation of innate purity and righteousness contrasted with the ‘tainted’ acts of naval officers who happily placed political considerations and indeed career advancement outside the service above loyalty to the navy. In terms of his emotional makeup Katō again may justly be described as ‘simple’. He often openly wept, joyfully or sorrowfully, and this trait could elicit admiration or contempt. Katō is often described as ‘narrow-minded’ and again one has first to examine the values and especially the positions of those who held this view in relation to Katō himself. By ‘narrow-minded’ his critics meant that he saw things only from a narrow naval or technical/strategic perspective. One ought to consider the rather incisive and prophetic note appended by a naval attaché in Tokyo to a glowing assessment of Katō Kanji prior to the Washington Conference. He wrote ‘his enemies call him narrow-minded and a radical’. One should consider also that Katō’s narrowness may have been based on something other than simplistic beliefs in the logic of naval ratios. Namely that often his narrow perspective reflected the particular position he occupied. For example Katō was not in a position at Washington, Geneva or London (1930) where his primary responsibility was to be broad-minded or to take the wider view. At Washington as Chief Naval Technical Adviser or Chief naval aide he represented the interests of the navy and provided the technical expertise in what came to be clearly a political process. However, as the study shows, his views were not narrow prior to Washington; it was the negative experience in the Naval Experts Committee etc and the consequences of the imposition of inferior ratios on capital ships that shaped his later acts. Evans and Peattie, for example, intimate that Katō was selected for this duty because he represented the views of a certain section of the


Navy, namely the big fleet faction.5 This, it has been argued in this study has no basis in the documents and it is forcibly argued that he was selected because he was the best man for the job. Katō Tomosaburō, on the other hand, was in the position of Chief Plenipotentiary rather than Navy Minister (the Premier was Navy Minister pro-tem) and as such represented the cabinet. Katō Kanji did believe that Japan needed a 70% ratio for strategic reasons at Washington and that national need dictated the required naval strength. However, he did not argue this view in committees. He argued according to the criterion set, ‘existing strength’ but challenged the American definition of this. At Geneva Katō was C-in-C of the Combined Fleet and in that position he would have been painfully aware of the impact of the inferior ratio in capital ships and the negative consequences of extending it to auxiliary vessels. This position again was hardly conducive to seeing arms limitation agreements, as proposed, as in a positive light. Moreover, as the person holding the leading seagoing command position in the Navy and one which carried with it the ‘right of direct access to the Emperor on command maters he had a professional obligation to voice his views to criticise or advise. During the London Conference he did appear rigid in terms of the ‘Three Principles’ but one perhaps ought again to consider the question of his position namely Chief of the Naval General Staff. This was a position solely concerned with ensuring the maritime security of the nation. For Katō, and other leading officers in the Naval General Staff, any compromise on the three principles was professionally speaking yet a further erosion of the margins necessary to defend Japan against on oncoming American Fleet. In the end Katō Kanji and the Naval General Staff were effectively outmanoeuvred in their determination to have the Naval General Staff’s views given full consideration. In dealing with the government Katō was frustrated at every turn by the brilliant political manoeuvring of Premier Hamaguchi. This was frustrating enough but Hamaguchi was also Navy Minister pro-tem able to speak for the navy when he chose to. Even more galling was that it was Katō’s junior, the Navy Vice Minister who represented the navy in discussions with cabinet; constitutionally correct but nevertheless a further source of irritation and frustration. Finally, the fact that Shidehara as Foreign Minister and Saionji Kimmochi as the last genrō advising the palace were also key figures in the negotiation and these were people with whom Katō’s relations had been poor ever since they had all been leading figures in accepting the Washington ratios in capital ships and the US definitions of existing strength. As mentioned earlier, the argument that Katō’s position is best understood from the old saying ‘where you stand depends on where you sit’ a piece of political wisdom just as applicable in Japan is best shown by

334 CONCLUSION

the volte-face performed by his senior and predecessor as C-in-C Combined Fleet and Chief of the Naval General Staff Admiral Suzuki Kantarō. He prevented Katō reaching the Emperor after he became Grand Chamberlain. Yet Admiral Suzuki, when he was Chief of the Naval General Staff during the Geneva Conference of 1927, was adamant that on naval strength the views of the Chief of the Naval General Staff must prevail. Katō was undoubtedly a strong believer in the ‘mathematical’ ratios arrived at by naval planners but he, possibly correctly, was most suspicious of the American opposition to Japan acquiring a 70% ratio. He saw this as based on power politics and, if based on strategy, then it indicated American ‘offensive’ planning in marked contrast to Japan’s 70% ratio which he and many others saw as ‘defensive’. Katō certainly had ‘broad’ experience in terms of his time spent overseas and his knowledge of world developments in naval and related technologies. However, it has to be said that this wide knowledge of the West was used to bolster a ‘realist’ view of international relations and he tended to increasingly view America, and to a slightly lesser extent Britain, as countries determined to relegate Japan to a position of semi-permanent inferiority in naval terms for less than altruistic reasons… Much is made in the literature of Katō’s traditional values. This is especially important in that the skilful use of ‘emotive anachronism’ referring to feudal vestiges etc applied to Katō especially when contrasted with the modern, rational views of the Treaty faction naval officers, provides a clever negative stereotyping especially when linked with the more modern negative imagery associated with general staffs. Much is made of his ‘spiritualism’ and this usually refers to his advocacy of the innate superiority of Japanese values and of Japanese spirit over Western materialism as well as his increasing distaste for the increasingly decadent nature of Western culture. Even Katō’s clearly documented knowledge and respect for Western technology does not seem to have eroded his belief in the superiority of Japanese over Western culture. Katō’s background, like so many of his generation, was one that provided him with an appreciation of the strengths and weaknesses of Japan and the West. The influence of his modernizing birthplace Fukui, of Hashimoto Sanai and his parents especially his mother, pointed him in the direction of a blending of traditional values and ‘modern’ Western technology and occasionally Western values. But, as with so many other Japanese born in the mid-nineteenth and late nineteenth century, the blending of elements from two such disparate cultures was an uneasy one, often subject to sudden fluctuations. It would perhaps be fair to say that Katō in the years from the Russo-Japanese War to the aftermath of the Washington


Conference, tended to evaluate highly the material strengths of Western culture and material power in general but always wished to balance these with ‘Japanese Spirit’ and traditional values. However, in the late 1920s and beyond, Katō began to shift the balance in the direction of Japanese values with an increased emphasis on the innate superiority of ‘Japanese Spirit’ over Western materialism. This increased advocacy of the superiority of Japanese spirit is in fact one of the key factors involved in assessments of Katō as ‘irrational’. By this it is often implied that strong traditional values can be shown to be ‘pre-modern’. In early post-war works on Japan and elsewhere the ‘modernisation’ theories were very influential and ‘modern’ was often synonymous with ‘rational’. It is highly questionable that such a view was ever or is still valid without severe qualifications. But if one accepts it then perhaps Katō, being very traditional, was essentially ‘pre-modern’ and therefore irrational in terms of his value system. However there were rational reasons for advocating the superiority of Japanese spirit over Western material culture at least within the closed value system of the military. In the first place Japan was faced with Western powers, especially the United States, whose material power in terms of potential was unquestionably vastly superior. In addition, since the ratios agreed at Washington and London (1930) effectively precluded increasing Japan’s material power visà-vis the Western naval powers of America and Britain, one could perhaps only improve the quality of the men, their attitude and their morale. In this a reinforcement of traditional values in a ‘modern organisation’ had a logical place. Such a move, adopted by Katō and many other officers, would not be out of place in many Western military organisations. That those who blindly believed in the total superiority of ‘Japanese Spirit’ over Western material culture, within and outside the military, were able to utilize this ‘rational’ response for their own ‘irrational’ beliefs does not render Katō’s actions irrational. In any case one could hardly motivate Japanese naval personnel by stating that Japanese material power was innately and possibly permanently inferior especially in the aftermath of Washington and London treaty limitations. Moreover, the language, concepts and values in speeches made by military leaders in addressing their own personnel may not always reflect their subjective evaluation of the situation, they are often designed to keep up or boost morale. Katō’s ‘irrationality’, however, was also, in part, attributable to his much avowed implacable opposition to naval arms limitation and disarmament. Here the value systems underpinning Katō’s critics and Katō himself are not to be evaluated as Japanese versus Western. Rather they perhaps ought to be seen in terms of the value systems of ‘realists’ versus ‘idealists’ in naval

336 CONCLUSION

limitation negotiations in particular and international relations in general. Polarisation of opinion in such an area, where there is not and possibly cannot be universal agreement, tends to produce the labelling of opposing views as irrational. Katō’s views on the subjects of disarmament and arms limitation were mainly to be found in the ‘realist’ camp. He regarded war as inevitable, and he dismissed disarmament as ‘Utopian’. He was not, however, as implacably opposed to arms limitation as the secondary literature would have us believe. He clearly viewed arms limitation, like most ‘realists’, as an end in itself and something which was related to ‘power’ and the ‘status quo’ rather than leading to disarmament. He believed that arms competition was a symptom rather than a cause of arms races. At best he was a lukewarm supporter of naval arms limitation but he did believe it could be justified under certain conditions. He fervently believed in the inherent principle of equality of rights in terms of arms. He could therefore support arms limitation where it was based on a common upper limit on all armaments to be followed perhaps by a lowering of that ‘ceiling’ by mutual agreement. He was implacably opposed to ‘inferior ratios’ for this reason. Katō continually advocated that it must be recognized that Japan, as a sovereign nation, was inherently entitled to equality in naval armaments ‘in principle’. ‘In principle’ is the key here since he never advocated that Japan should have equality of armaments in practice but instead sufficiency, within a commonly agreed upper limit for her own definition of national security requirements, was the aim. Viewed in this way, Katō’s attitude to the naval arms limitation as negotiated at that time must be judged as lukewarm at best, hostile at worst. But the time must be borne in mind. For example, Katō’s attitude to arms limitation before Washington was hardly hostile but it hardened perceptibly as the ‘inferior’ ratios were applied first to capital ships at Washington and then especially after they were applied to auxiliary vessels at London (1930). He could still be described as a supporter of naval limitation provided it was carried out according to his concept of equality under an agreed maximum. The literature also abounds with comments that Katō was totally inflexible on naval limitation especially at London, ‘In contrast Katō and Suetsugu believed these ‘principles were unchangeable and that not a single concession could be made even if failure to do so meant the conference would break up’.6 Whilst it is true that Katō saw it as likely if not inevitable that a hard line approach might rupture the conference the documentary record states clearly that the Naval General, Staff did come up with a compromise plan and it is unthinkable that this would have been produced without his approval. This plus other quotes usually without adequate footnoting such as ‘ ‘Katō and the


like-minded officers of his faction saw conflict with the United States as inevitable and justified’7 simply echo the negative stereotyping that dominates portraits of him in the naval arms limitation literature especially in English. They also tend to assume that his position on these matters during and after London was the same as prior to London and even prior to Washington. It would be more accurate perhaps in general terms to say that Katō, like many of his fellow officers saw that if war was to happen that the navy they would ‘inevitably fight’ was the US navy. However, if the actual agreements in existence in the inter-war period, based on differing ratios for various countries, were what one meant by naval limitation then Katō could reluctantly accept it after Washington provided the deficiencies could be remedied by auxiliary craft. The London agreements, however, eliminated this option and he was totally opposed to comprehensive arms limitation based on discriminatory ratios. In the final analysis Katō’s attitude to and suspicions of the United States and his belief in a tough negotiating stance backed by a united public opinion, was probably more important in forming his views than his ‘obsession’ on the inviolability of the 70% ratio as necessary for Japan’s defence. It is necessary also to question whether Japan had no choice but to take a ‘soft line’ in the negotiations. There is an argument that a hard line stance might have achieved more concessions and if US threats to out build Japan (which might have meant outbuilding Britain as well) then there might have been a distinct possibility of a negotiation for the renewal of the AngloJapanese alliance to keep the US in check. Katō would have labelled the thinking of supporters of agreements reached at Washington and London ‘irrational’ or at least illogical. He believed that arms limitation agreements carried out because of financial strains were illogical and certainly insincere. He found agreements based on ‘inferior’ ratios to be the same and felt that arms limitation could not be limited to one class of ships or one service. In any case he felt that the naval race was a symptom not a cause of international tension and advocated settling national differences around a table that would alleviate the tension and thus slow down the arms race. This conclusion lead Ito Takashi to label Katō Kanji as an ‘idealist’. Actually, those in the Treaty faction in favour of agreeing to American propositions might themselves also be termed ‘realist’! Nevertheless a major reassessment of Katō’s own position and his thinking is long overdue and one should perhaps be cautious of assessments of Katō, especially at Washington, which are in a sense anachronistic in that they have been overly influenced by his involvement in later events during the ‘London Treaty Crisis’ of 1930 and its aftermath.

338 CONCLUSION

The fundamental problem in judging a man such as Katō Kanji, despite his oft-cited simplicity, lies mainly in the nature of the materials one has to work with. Opinions and writings on Katō Kanji are often value-laden and sometimes tell us more about the writer than about Katō. Newspaper materials, whilst interesting and occasionally illuminating, are often inaccurate due either to deliberate journalistic license or to misinformed speculation. Materials written on Katō by his supporters tend to be hagiographic and rather one-dimensional. Japanese biography, written by the Japanese, is a branch of history that has improved consid erably in recent years but still remains far below the high standards set by leading Western scholars. One often finds that it is the ‘factional’ writing, by which one means fictionalised fact as in certain types of historical novels, which provides a greater insight into the behaviour and thought processes of Japanese figures. Primary sources too present the researchers with problems. For example the discovery of the Katō diaries was undoubtedly a major historical find. However they should be treated with caution. Katō’s diaries do tell us more about the man and especially those whom he contacted regularly. But his recollections of events in the diaries, and especially in his later embellishments of diary entries, were often selective and indeed sometimes rationalised events years later. In this Katō is not alone. The Hamaguchi and Okada diaries should also be treated with considerable caution and of course the Saionji-Harada memoirs have achieved a certain notoriety for much the same reasons. It is possible that most studies of Japanese historical figures by Westerners, no matter the amount and quality of materials and the linguistic expertise available, offers at best a plausible but nevertheless overly Westernised interpretation of the Japanese personality at best and an over-simplistic caricature at worst. Assessing Katō’s influence on his fellow officers, on naval politics or on civil-military relations is also fraught with difficulties. There can be no doubt that he influenced a whole generation of officers. This was partly in a practical sense through his formal teaching appointments. He also taught by example and became for many a symbol of the ideal naval officer by his actions in peace and war and by his close associations with great naval heroes such as Admiral Tōgō Heihachirō and Lt Cdr Hirose Takeo. In the arms limitation debates, especially after London (1930), Katō was also a symbol for young officers and for traditionalists and right wing activists due to his efforts to prevent a successful agreement being concluded and ratified as a result of the London Naval Conference. In addition, his treatment at the hands of the pro-treaty forces, especially the ‘infringement of the supreme


command’ issues, such as Premier Hamaguchi ignoring or rejecting his advice and Grand Chamberlain Suzuki blocking his constitutional right to direct access to the Emperor, generated much sympathy for his position and admiration for his ‘principled’ stand. However, to conclude from this that Katō was directly or solely responsible for the politicisation of the naval officer corps, the politics of violence or indeed that the ‘Fleet’ or ‘AntiTreaty faction’ was directly responsible for this and by association with the descent into war with the west is seriously open to question. A finding of this research indicates that military intevention resulting from arms limitation disputes were not so much the cause of internal naval splits but rather can be seen as symptomatic of existing internal naval organisational rivalry between a hitherto dominant, established Navy Ministry and an increasingly confident assertive Naval General Staff seeking parity or even superiority over the administrative branch of the navy.8 It could of course be argued that Katō created this mode of thinking within the Naval General Staff. On the other hand, one could equally plausibly argue that Katō was merely reflecting existing thinking rather than causing it. Again Katō’s influence is generally regarded as being at its peak just prior to Japan’s secession from the Second London Naval Conference. But this does not seem to be supported by the available evidence. Undoubtedly the thinking that permeated naval circles in 1933 and 1934 was similar to the long-held views of Katō Kanji but such views were not previously exclusive to Katō. Katō is repeatedly labelled the key actor in the so-called ‘Osumi Purge’ of pro-treaty naval officers that denied the Japanese Navy the services of so many talented officers and caused a personnel imbalance within the navy. He is also credited with considerable responsibility for the strengthening of the Naval General Staff and the ref forms preceding the Second London Naval Conference. One can accept that he was, by his previous actions, a contributor to these developments and his support was utilized in carrying them out. Beyond that the evidence is ambiguous or inconclusive and certainly his influence, such as it was, was in decline from 1930 onwards except in a symbolic sense. Politicization of the navy seems more likely to have been a consequence of the lack of adequate co-ordinating mechanisms between the navy and the government and within the navy. On such issues the Emperor was probably the only one able to arbitrate effectively, an option deemed improper and too risky by his constitutional advisers. This being the case parties on either side, be they ‘treaty faction’ or ‘anti-treaty faction’ had to look elsewhere for help in resolving the impasse. Consequently, role expansion by the naval officer corps in politics did occur and added to the politicisation already emerging from the trend to monitor or

340 CONCLUSION

even intervene in politics emanating from the emergence of ‘total war’ planning. Again the overt, violent political intervention by young officers of the army and navy is constantly linked with Katō Kanji. The evidence, such as it is, linking him with such movements is at best circumstantial. His actions and words did, at times, inflame emotions and in this way, perhaps unintentionally, Katō was responsible. However he never actively encouraged such deeds and did not condone them although at times he appears to have had a certain sympathy for the ‘purity’ of their motives. He could at best have been only guilty by association in that his name was often on the lips of such young officers. Such splits as appeared in Japanese domestic politics, whether inside or outside the navy, ought not to be interpreted as simply the product of internal naval rivalry alone. The groups that competed during the London Treaty Crisis often had opposing views of how to negotiate at an international conference, how to view the attitude of the United States and even how to view Japan’s future role in the existing international political and economic order. In turn such groups can be differentiated in terms of shifting attitudes to Western culture. It is no more accurate to place the main responsibility for the politicisation of the navy on Katō Kanji than it is to blame the naval race in the late 1930s and the Pacific War on the Japanese Naval General Staff in the form of the command faction (Gunrei-ha, Hard-liners faction (Onken-ha) or Fleet faction (Kantai-ha). The study of inter-war naval limitation issues will continue to remain a richly rewarding research area where much work has yet to be done. Analyses of the roles of other major figures such as Premier Hamaguchi, Grand Chamberlain Suzuki and Admirals Okada and Takarabe as well as Admirals Tōgō, Suetsugu, Prince Fushimi and others would undoubtedly shed even further light on this subject. Again more sophisticated analyses of the various organisations and factions would also be of great value. especially the Fleet faction/Treaty faction classification. In all of this, a reassessment of Katō Kanji’s role and activities remains indispensable. Further research may shed light not only on civilmilitary, inter-military and intramilitary relations but also on the processes of domestic politics in Japan. Inter-war arms limitation materials can also illuminate the difficulties and evaluate the efficacy of Japan’s pre-war international negotiating strategies. Katō died after writing his memoirs of the London Conference Crisis. Undoubtedly, he painfully relived the events that led to a premature end to a brilliant career and it has been suggested that this was a contributory factor in his sudden death. Another factor was the treatment he received at the last from his long time associate, Baron Hiranuma. His resentment of his shabby


treatment at the end, when Hiranuma became Premier, must have made him realise that skilful and devious politicians had at times cynically manipulated him on more than one occasion. He was also in no doubt that many political honours as well as important positions were denied him because of his principled stand against naval limitation agreements. He was denied Admiral of the Fleet, which was probably the most hurtful, ironically this was blocked by Admiral Prince Fushimi, who not only had less acceptable credentials but had been an ally of Katō’s against naval limitation but later deserted Katō. He was also ruled out for both Prime Minister and Governor-General of Formosa although one must point out although flattered he probably realised that he was hardly suited to the former and made it clear that he did not wish to be the latter. He was, by any criterion, an outstanding officer who contributed much to the development of the Imperial Japanese Navy to which he devoted his life. For this reason alone, whether one agrees or disagrees with his views on naval limitation agreements or American intentions, a reassessment of his role is long overdue. Katō Kanji remains an important, certainly overly maligned figure. Ironically in attempting to provide a better balance to this man his centrality to the whole debate becomes more questionable at least in terms of being the lead actor but if one combines it with the ‘symbolic’ Katō then his central importance increases again. Symbolically Katō can be seen as mirroring the seriously considered views of a sizeable proportion of the naval officer corps and of the Japanese public in general. This is what makes him an important figure and a useful focal device for studying this important area of civilmilitary relations in modern Japan. What is not in doubt is his importance to the Imperial Japanese Navy and for that alone he deserves to be remembered and reassessed in a more favourable or at the very least more objective light than hitherto. Notes 1 Arthur Tiedemann ‘Introduction’ in James William Morley (ed) Japan Erupts: The London naval Conference and the Manchurian Incident New York 1984 p. 8 2 ibid. p. 9 3 ibid. p. 9 4 David C Evans and Mark R Peattie Kaigun: Strategy, Tactics and Technology in the Imperial Japanese Navy 1887–1941, Annapolis, 1997 5 ibid. p. 194 6 Kobayashi Tatsuo cited in op. cit. Morley p. 29 7 op cit., Evans, p. 200 8 Ian Gow The Politicisation of the Japanese Naval General Staff Sheffield East Asia Research Paper No. 16, 1996

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Appendix

KATŌ KANJI (HIROHARU) 1870–1939 Kato, Hiroharu (Kanji) 1870–1939 Fukui Naval Academy 18th Admiral

362 APPENDIX

Index

Abo Kiyokazu 24, 55, 78, 85, 142, 204, 206, 210 Adachi Kenzō 256 Akiyama Saneyuki 72 Amami Islands 85 Angora 154 Aoki Tokuzō 218, 219, 230, 241, 269, 287 Asada Sadao 2, 6, 7, 25, 26, 27, 41, 137, 138, 153, 168, 169, 176, 303, 305, 326, 328 Atami 318

Deshima 32 Dingman, Roger 7, 129, 143 Douglas, Archibald L 36 Dull, Paul 2 Echizen 15–19 Enomoto Takeaki 34 Etajima x, 37, 38, 50, 52 Europe 60 Evans, David 2, 7, 97, 332 Fisher, Sir John 46, 48 Formosa 313 France 46, 61, 97, 111, 143, 154, 159, 162, 178 Fukui 15–29, 38, 191, 319 Fujita Shotoku 55 Fushimi Hiroyasu 37, 44, 45, 47, 197, 214, 225, 227, 232, 235, 236, 240, 259, 267, 269, 271, 275, 277, 278, 298, 300, 301, 302, 303, 306, 308, 312, 319, 320, 340 Futagami Hyoji 262, 282, 284

Balfour, Arthur J 106, 125, 134, 135, 136, 137, 138, 139, 141 Balkans 154 Beasley, William 18 Beatty, David 108, 111, 113, 163 Belgium 82, 143 Bonin Islands 101 Cambridge 92 Caroline Islands 75, 76 Castle, William 206, 207, 227 Chatfield 108, 117 Chang Tso Lin 157 China 70, 81, 101, 143, 163, 177, 186, 196, 197, 214, 309 Clemensen, Adolph 168 Craig, Albert, 15 Crowley, James 7, 153, 262, 267, 269, 277, 278

Geneva 2, 5, 64, 158–172ff, 175, 176, 207 Genoa 46 Germany 46, 48, 49, 61–63, 68, 70, 72, 74, 99, 152, 178, 315 Gibraltar 40 Gibson, Hugh 162, 164, 168, 178, 223 Gordon, Andrew 9 Great Britain 45, 47–49, 50, 67, 68, 70, 74, 76, 77, 79, 85, 87, 158–172ff, 176, 177, 178, 179, 193, 206 Greece 154 Griffis, William Elliot 18, 22

Daniels, Josephus 72, 73, 102 De Bon, 111, 159 Decker, Benton G 58 363

364 INDEX

Guam 70, 85, 101 Hall, Ivan 27 Hamaguchi Osachi 178, 186, 187, 189, 192, 193, 195, 209, 210, 211, 215, 216, 218, 219, 224, 228, 229, 230, 231, 234, 235, 236, 237, 238, 240, 249, 251, 254, 258, 259, 260, 269, 273, 278, 279, 280, 281, 283, 284, 285, 288, 289, 295, 296, 298, 300, 319, 333, 338 Hanai Tokuzō 254 Hanihara Masanao 106, 111 Hara Kanjiro 87 Hara Kei 79, 80, 81, 88, 90, 92, 132, 187 Harada Kumao 193, 216, 219, 229, 251, 253, 260, 261, 267, 277, 278, 281, 282, 283, 284, 292, 293, 301, 303, 308, 313, 318, 338 Harding, Warren 106, 154 Hashimoto Sanai 1, 15, 17, 19, 23, 24, 25, 26, 29, 319, 334 Hawaii 39–41, 85 Hawes, Albert 35 Hayama 278 Hiranuma Kiichirō 197, 214, 280, 281, 283, 308, 313, 314, 318, 331, 340 Hirohito, Emperor 225, 234, 235, 236, 240, 252, 256, 260, 262, 263, 267, 271, 276, 278, 279, 295, 300, 302, 338, 339 Hirose Takeo 1, 43, 44, 45, 63, 338 Honda Shuri 16 Hong Kong 51, 55, 85 Honolulu 40, 104, 105 Hoover, Herbert 177, 178 Hori Teikichi 213, 221, 223, 227, 238, 249, 258, 269 Hosoya Chihiro 56 Hughes, Charles Evans 81, 87, 91, 104, 105, 106, 107, 110, 116, 120, 121, 122, 124, 126, 129, 134, 136, 138, 139, 150, 162, 163, 169 Humphries, Leonard 155 Hyogo 34 Ide Kenji 77 Ikeda Kiyoshi 6, 183, 192, 224, 228, 332 Ingles, John 36

Inukai Tsuyoshi 253, 297, 298, 299 Iriye, Akira 39 Ishihara Kanji 2 Ishii Kikujirō 162, 163, 164, 192, 207, 283 Ishikawa Shingo 306, 312 Itō Kinjirō 26 Itō Masanori 113, 114, 131, 141, 167 Itō Miyoji 92, 280, 281, 284 Itō Takashi 267, 269, 270, 275, 280, 285, 337 Italy 46, 61, 111, 143, 154, 159, 162, 178 Jones, Hilary 162, 163, 166, 167, 195 Kaneko Kentarō 197, 207, 214, 223, 227, 280, 283, 284, 302 Kanin Kotohito 271, 274, 300 Kantō 15, 155 Kasahara Ryōsaku 17 Katō Naokata 19, 21, 24, 26, 27 Katō Sumako 22, 24, 27, 28, 29 Katō Takayoshi 207, 310, 312 Katō Teikichi 91 Katō Tomosaburō 55, 56, 76, 77, 80, 88, 91, 92, 93, 97, 100, 102, 106, 108, 110, 111, 114, 117, 120, 125, 126, 127, 128, 131, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 149, 150, 152, 153, 159, 162, 169, 177, 179, 187, 196, 332 Katsu Kaishū 21, 22, 34 Kawai Misao 284 Keelung 85 Kiaochow 87 Kido Kōichi 298, 307 Kita Ikki 299 Kobayashi Seizō 72, 78, 162, 166, 169, 183, 210, 213, 214, 215, 278, 283, 292, 295, 303, 307, 313 Kobayashi Tatsuo 6, 7, 229, 282, 287, 325, 326 Koga Mineichi 236, 254, 255 Koizumi Matajirō 235 Korea 41, 91, 168–169, 207, 254, 255 Kumazaki Ryōji 206, 207 Kuratomi Yusaburō 282 Kwantung 87


Lamont, Archibald 206, 207 London 5, 9, 10, 49, 64, 204, 209, 210, 212, 216, 218, 225, 249, 253, 255, 313 Loochoos103 Lucy, Alfred 22 Macdonald, Ramsay 177, 179, 181, 182, 185, 191 Mahan, Alfred T 39 Makino, Nobuaki 203, 227, 232, 256, 271, 298, 314 Manchuria 296, 306, 309 Marshall Islands 75 Matsuda Genji 235 Matsudaira Shungaku 16, 17, 18, 19, 22, 24 Matsudaira Tsuneo 185, 186, 208, 228, 233 Mexico 97 Meyer-Oakes 260 Minobe Tatsukichi 212 Mishima Michiharu 28 Mizumachi Kesaroku 229, 281, 283, 284 Mizuno Kotoku 192 Mori Arinori 28 Moriyama Keizaburō 97 Morris, Ivan 9 Motono, ichirō 55 Mukden 296 Nagai Matsuzō 186, 234 Nagai Ryutarō 232 Nagasaki 21, 34 Nakane Yukie 16 Nara, Takeharu 198 Netherlands 82, 143 Nish, Ian 97 Nomura Keizaburō 176 Nomura Kichisaburō 78, 87, 89, 213, 227 Nomura Minoru 51, 72, 301 Ogasawara Islands 85 Ogasawara, Naganari 197, 257, 267, 271, 275, 276, 282, 284, 285, 298, 311 Okada Keisuke 15, 19, 39, 158, 171, 176, 184, 190, 191, 210, 213, 214, 215, 216, 218, 219, 220, 224, 225, 227, 228, 229,

230, 231, 232, 234, 235, 236, 237, 238, 249, 254, 255, 258, 260, 261, 262, 263, 267, 269, 270, 271, 272, 273, 274, 275, 278, 296, 309, 310, 312, 313, 319, 320, 338, 340 Okuma Shigenobu 41 Osumi Mineo 166, 234, 283, 301, 302, 303, 307, 309, 339 Ozaki Yukio 80 Pacific Islands 70, 76, 84, 88, 101, 150, 175 Panama Canal 50 Paris 46, 74, 75 Parkes, Harry 34 Peattie, Mark 2, 7, 97, 332 Pelz, Stephen 7.27, 26, 27, 28, 303, 326, 328 Pescadores 85 Phillipines 70, 85 Port Arthur 1, 44 Portugal 82, 143 Pratt, William 117, 125, 207 Roosevelt Theodore Jnrl 10, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 118, 120, 125, 134, 140 Roskill, Stephen 160 Russia 42–45, 71, 152 Sakai Keinan 319 Sakhalin 87, 88 Saigō Takamori 2 Saionji Kimmochi 189, 192, 193, 211, 213, 221, 254, 296, 308, 309, 314, 318, 333 Saitō Makoto 42, 71, 91, 162, 164, 167, 168, 169, 207, 210, 213, 215, 219, 255, 299, 304, 308,314, 320 Saitō Shichigorō 159 Sakonji Seizō 187, 193, 227, 228 Sasaki Gonroku 21 Satō Tetsutarō 63, 72, 152 Shanghai 298, 306 Shantung 41, 87 Shidehara Kijūrō 81, 87, 88, 91, 92, 106, 111, 113, 137, 138, 141, 149, 161, 162, 177, 187, 193, 194, 209, 210, 211, 214,

366 INDEX

219, 224, 225, 227, 231, 232, 233, 234, 240, 253, 254, 255, 269, 284, 295, 333 Shillony, Ben Ami 314 Shimamura Hayao 91 Siberia 53–60, 81, 87, 88, 99, 100, 101 Singapore 85 South Africa 75 St Blasien 61 St Petersburg 43 Stimson, Henry 181, 187, 188, 204, 206 Suetsugu Nobumasa 7, 78, 85, 141, 153, 193, 197, 215, 216, 225, 227, 228, 229, 233, 240, 249, 257, 260, 261, 262, 263, 271, 281, 283, 287, 288, 299, 306, 307, 308, 313, 318, 331, 336, 340 Sugiyama Akihisa 198 Suzuki Chikara 16 Suzuki Kantarō 183, 191, 192, 198, 213, 227, 232, 234, 235, 240, 256, 267, 271, 314, 333, 338, 340 Takarabe Takeshi 46, 183, 185, 186, 191, 197, 203, 216, 218, 220, 221, 225, 227, 228, 229, 230, 236, 240, 252, 254, 255, 256, 257, 258, 259, 260, 261, 262, 263, 269, 270, 271, 272, 274, 275, 278, 279, 280, 284, 285, 287, 288, 289, 293, 295, 300, 302, 340 Tanaka Giichi 2, 43, 153, 166, 167 Tanaka Kunishige 88 Takahashi Sankichi 128, 301, 302, 303 Takeshita Isamu 74, 75, 77, 155 Takeuchi 216 Taniguchi Naozane 266, 271, 272, 273, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 287, 292, 296 Terauchi 55 Tiedemann, Arthur 6, 7, 325, 326 Tirpitz 46, 61 Tōgo Heihachirō 1, 36, 39, 40, 42, 44, 45, 52, 60, 63, 171, 195, 196, 212, 214, 215, 216, 221, 225, 227, 248, 259, 261, 267, 269, 271, 272, 274, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 282, 288, 298, 306, 307, 312, 320, 338, 340 Tokyo 5, 15, 23, 78, 80, 81, 82, 100, 104, 129, 140, 142, 155–157, 199, 207, 208, 214, 255, 256, 260

Tokugawa Iesato 92, 126, 127, 128, 129, 131 Tomita Rōho 22 Tracey, Richard 35 Tsukiji 34, 35, 36, 85 Tsunoda Jun 7 United States 46, 67, 68, 70, 72, 74, 77, 79, 95–132ff, 158–172ff, 176, 177, 178, 179, 206, 209 Ugaki 238, 252 Vladivostok x, 41, 53–60, 63, 88, 97, 99 Voretch, Ernst 219 Wakatsuki Reijirō 162, 186, 188, 207, 209, 210, 218, 220, 228, 280, 295 Washington 2, 5, 8, 10, 64, 67, 73, 77, 79– 93, 95–132ff, 175–208, 193 Wei Hai Wei 41 Widenmann, William 61 Yale Candee Maxon 301 Yamagata Aritomo 2, 92 Yamaji Ichizen 229 Yamanashi Katsunoshin 78, 87, 207, 210, 213, 214, 216, 219, 220, 224, 225, 227, 228, 229, 230, 231, 232, 233, 234, 235, 236, 237, 238, 240, 249, 254, 262, 270 Yamashita Gentarō 38, 152, 312 Yamamoto Gonnohyōe 37, 45, 46, 48, 63, 71, 155, 156, 220, 221, 229 Yamamoto Eisuke 256 Yamamoto Isoroku 318 Yap 76, 87 Yokohama 103, 149, 156 Yokoi Shōnan 17, 23 Yokosuka 23, 29, 35, 41, 60, 157, 158 Yoshii Tatsu 52 Yuki Hideyasu 15 Yuri Kimimasa 17, 21, 23

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