The Cyclical Sensibility of Edo-Period Japan

TANAKA Yûko

Those of us who study the Japan of the Edo period (seventeenth through mid­nineteenth century) are constantly confronted with two contrasting aspects of that age. On the one hand, there was continued material growth, spearheaded by urban life and the market economy. On the other hand, all this activity occurred within the bounds of a certain cycle. Those impatient with the latter feature see the Edo period as stagnant. This opinion, probably influenced by the "Asiatic stagnation" theory posited by the Hegelian view of history, is that of people who regard endless growth as a positive value. It is this way of thinking, I believe, that induced modern Japan to embark on rapid economic growth.

Surprisingly, people with this sense of values describe even the growth exemplified by the first aspect of Edo-period Japan as decadent, since that is the only way they can explain the efflorescence of a market closed off from the outside world by the government's policy of national seclusion. In their view, endless growth presupposes a market always open to other countries. If so, now that the entire world has become such a close-knit community, how are we, who have no way to escape its bounds, to deal with the extreme "decadence" this implies?

I do not regard the somewhat closed cycle of the Edo period as stagnant, nor do I regard the burgeoning of its market as decadent. Edo-period Japan had to perform a delicate balancing act. Then as now, no national economy was immune to global trends. Precisely because of the inevitable repercussions of the world economy, Japan found it necessary to exercise a high degree of control over trade and flows of people lest it become Europe's prey.

THE PURSUIT OF TECHNOLOGICAL EXPERTISE

The Edo-period economy had an especially striking characteristic: the concerted drive for technological expertise. This was the result of major changes in the sixteenth century. I cannot believe that the development of silver mining in Japan that began in the 1520s was unconnected with European initiatives in Asia. And the subsequent activities of Japanese traders in Southeast Asia were clearly linked to changes in Latin America and Southeast Asia. The Japanese economy at the time was driven by the purchase of masses of goods with silver. This buying up of Asian goods with mineral resources, which started in the 1530s, was reversed only in the 1630s. That is why I am uncomfortable with the political periodization that dates the beginning of the Edo period to the establishment of the Tokugawa shogunate in 1603. The last pieces of the Edo-period system were in place by 1640; the Japan before that was completely different from the Japan thereafter. When I talk about the Edo period, I mean Japan from 1640 onward.

The goods Japan depended on Asia to provide can be divided into natural products and high-tech products. Aromatic woods, leather, saltpeter, sugar, and other commodities were imported from Southeast Asia and China; raw silk, silk cloth, porcelain, and other high-tech products were imported from China and Vietnam; cotton cloth was imported from Korea and India; medicinal substances were imported from China and Korea. Japan started making its own silk cloth, porcelain, medicines, and Korean-type cotton cloth almost immediately, followed a little later by saltpeter, sugar, and Indian-type cotton cloth. High-quality raw silk was the most difficult product to indigenize.

The greatest challenges for the Edo-period economy were to acquire the advanced technology of the world as the Japanese knew it, epitomized by China and India, and begin domestic production of the necessities that they had been buying with silver, and to increase rice production. In regard to the latter, from the end of the sixteenth century through the first half of the seventeenth century Japan's population grew at a rate extremely rare for the world at that time, though whether this was the cause or the result of the development of new rice fields and increased rice production we do not know. At any rate, from 1640 onward Edo-period Japan aspired to gain the strength to make its own way in the world, developing the technological expertise to free its economy from dependence on the rest of Asia, invigorating the domestic market, and avoiding invasion and colonization. Edo-period statesmen did not equate self-reliance with military superiority.

In the century from 1540 to 1640 Japan used its mineral resources to buy Asian goods, manufactured more guns than any other country in the world and produced huge amounts of gunpowder from imported saltpeter, used these firearms and ammunition for war at home and invasion abroad, cut down countless trees to construct castle towns, crisscrossed the country with canals, reclaimed land, and created large tracts of new rice fields. Between 1574 and 1619 some 200 castle towns were built. If major riparian works are included, about 36% of premodern Japan's civil engineering projects were undertaken between 1596 and 1672.

FOREST CONSERVATION FOR FLOOD CONTROL

The shogunate's policies underwent a major change around the time the spate of castle-town building came to an end. But the construction of castle towns was not the cause; rather, it was a shift in perception of the world situation and attendant changes in diplomacy and trade. Japan, hitherto a major producer of guns, banned their manufacture, prohibited overseas travel, forbade the entry of Portuguese ships, and restricted foreign trade to the port of Nagasaki. But at the same time, having mended relations with Korea, which Japan had invaded twice in the 1590s, the shogunate invited missions from Korea, received delegations from the Ryûkyû Kingdom (Okinawa), and required Dutch merchants to make periodic visits to Edo (present Tokyo), the seat of the shogunate. All this gave ordinary people increased opportunities to rub shoulders with foreigners. As a result, especially in Edo, medical science went beyond Chinese herbalism to develop independently, copperplate prints were made and a concept of something like photography was born, lenses were sold on the market, and natural-history illustrations were turned out in profusion. Imports of books increased, partly because of the creation of a school system for the sons of samurai and partly because of the need to obtain technical manuals. The shogunate was not hostile to foreign countries per se; what it disliked was Europe's relentless expansionism, which encroached on other countries in the guise of "goodwill," using Catholic missionaries as its vanguard.

In the second half of the seventeenth century the shogunate began vigorously issuing ordinances forbidding tree felling. The first such flood-control ordinance, in 1666, forbade the uprooting of trees in order to prevent soil erosion, decreed that saplings be planted on both sides of the upper reaches of rivers, and prohibited the establishment of new rice fields and the burning off of fields bordering rivers and in dry riverbeds. The previous year the Owari han (domain) in today's Aichi Prefecture had declared mountain forests along the Kiso River tomeyama--literally, "closed mountains"--and the Hirosaki han in what is now Aomori Prefecture had done the same. "Closed mountains" were designated forest areas where it was forbidden to tamper with standing trees in any way. There were also suyama, or "nesting mountains," forest areas closed off to protect hawks' nesting grounds. In addition, tree felling by individuals was restricted in common forests, and in some akeyama (open mountains), forests open to free access, it was forbidden to fell certain types of trees.

The shogunate followed the 1666 ordinance with decrees regarding closed mountains. In 1678, for example, stern notices were issued prohibiting not only the felling of standing trees but also the cutting or burning of branches and the stripping of bark in closed mountains in the Tôtômi and Suruga domains (both in today's Shizuoka Prefecture). And in 1684 it was forbidden to cut down trees, uproot grasses, burn fields, or build along riverbanks on both imperial and private property in the Kansai region around Kyoto and Osaka because of the danger of soil erosion. At the same time the planting of saplings, turf, bamboo, reeds, and grasses was promoted. These measures were instituted because surveys investigating why the Yodo River repeatedly overflowed its banks had revealed that lumbering at the upper reaches of the river was to blame. The seriousness with which the shogunate addressed flood control is indicated by the fact that decrees prohibiting tree felling continued to be issued thereafter, though at less frequent intervals.

What is interesting is that these orders were accompanied by bans on the development of new rice fields along riverbanks. New rice fields should have been to the shogunate's benefit, since they would generate increased land-tax revenue, but the authorities abandoned that kind of development as early as the latter half of the seventeenth century. Moreover, in the 1660s, when the first ordinance prohibiting tree felling was issued, annual land taxes dropped to about 30% of the harvest and never rose thereafter. In most cases, the initiative in setting the land tax lay with the village. More precisely, the tax was determined in negotiations between the village assembly and village elders (the headman and his two chief lieutenants) on the one hand and the local magistrate on the other. It was impossible to impose taxes arbitrarily. The village was a local government entity with a tradition stretching back to the medieval period and had a much stronger voice than we today imagine.

A NONEXPANSIONIST PHILOSOPHY

Simultaneously with the shogunate's inauguration of forest conservation measures, thinkers began to speak out on the same subject, notably the Confucian Kumazawa Banzan (1619­91). His 1687 work Daigaku wakumon (Questions on the Great Learning) addressed 21 subjects having to do with statecraft, including the principles of government, national defense, public finance, commodity prices, farmer militias, relief, irrigation, forests, religion, and education. He recommended the cessation of lumbering, reforestation, and planned lumbering, and proposed that fuel shortages be dealt with by burning straw and shortages of building materials by refraining from building new Buddhist temples and Shintô shrines and by recycling lumber. He also said that if the nation remained at peace the number of samurai castles and mansions should diminish. In fact, the keep of Edo Castle, destroyed in the Meireki Fire of 1657, was never rebuilt. Banzan's ideas were not unique to him, nor did they represent some idealistic vision far removed from shogunate policy. They were extremely pragmatic proposals based on measures the government had already undertaken.

Banzan's thinking, which did not aim at the quantitative expansion of goods and did not espouse rapid growth or territorial aggrandizement, epitomized the philosophy of the Edo period. Bans on lumbering were motivated not by the self-seeking desire to achieve environmental conservation and economic growth simultaneously but by the wish to create a sound cycle and manage a society free of poverty by eliminating waste. Informing this approach was the recognition that resources (goods) are finite and the idea of "benevolent government," which holds that everyone must be succored. As Banzan pointed out, since it is natural for people to aspire to affluence, wealth should not be skewed or concentrated; true wealth circulates universally, like water or fire.

Fundamental to Confucian thought was the concept of benevolent government. Because it advocates equity, urban rampages and farmer uprisings to rectify the skewing of wealth were not philosophically incompatible with Confucianism, whereas the unbridled pursuit of business profits was. Thus, in the Edo period the word economy (keizai) did not connote the pursuit of profit and competition. The agronomist Satô Nobuhiro (1769­1850) wrote in Keizai yôryaku (The Epitome of Economy), "The rationale of economy is to manage the realm, develop goods, make domains affluent, and succor everyone." In short, economy was the know-how to succor people. Since it was incumbent upon statesmen to behave accordingly, pragmatic Confucian thinkers scorned academic theorizing and actively put concrete proposals before the shogunate.

A THOROUGH RECYCLING SYSTEM

If a finite supply of material goods was to make all people affluent, naturally enough it was necessary to avoid waste and skillfully circulate and recycle goods. The key phrases here are "proper disposition" (shimatsu) and "development of goods" (kaibutsu). Amazingly, the precepts and founding legends of business houses, enterprises that presumably pursued profits, were peppered with such words and phrases as "simplicity and frugality," "proper disposition," and "virtue." The split curtains called noren that hung at shopfronts were supposed to be somewhat worn and soiled, and clerks were required to dress extremely soberly. But "proper disposition" did not mean mere frugality. As the component ideographs of shimatsu ("start" and "finish") indicate, it meant beginning and ending things properly, making sure the books were balanced, keeping everything within a cycle. From this we can infer that while going into the red was to be avoided, making unnecessarily large profits was never a consideration.

Artisans prided themselves on making tools, buildings, paper, and cloth that would last a century or two. If profit were the aim, they could not have made things that would not need to be replaced. They took it for granted that things would not be used once and discarded but in one way or another would last hundreds of years. To make such things was the proof of an artisan's skill. For example, not only was it assumed that paper would be remanufactured, but in a sense it was a recycled product from the very start, since the manufacturing process for new Japanese paper, or washi, utilized ash from leaves, wood, and grasses. Ash was also used in making dyes, ceramic glazes, and sake and to fertilize farmland. And when paper that had been remanufactured several times was finally burned, that ash was put to good use, as well.

Dry-goods shops sold bolts of cloth, but only a limited class could afford to have kimono made from new cloth. Generally, people bought kimono from secondhand dealers. It was not necessary to have a large number of kimono; a kimono lasted a long time if the neckband was replaced periodically. People also wore kimono layered. And an old kimono, after being sent out to be washed and fulled, would be sold to a secondhand dealer and another used kimono bought. Fine-quality kimono were passed down in families for generations. When they became soiled, they would be redyed. When they were finally too shabby to be worn, they would be cut up for aprons or cushion covers. If the cloth was too threadbare even for that, it would be made into pouches. Old cloth, like paper, was also used to wrap fragile wares or line their boxes. When cloth had finally exhausted its life, it was turned into ash.

Tinkers mended and remended pots and pans, scythes, and other metal tools and utensils. Candle drippings were collected and made into candles again. Paper lanterns, umbrellas, and wooden clogs were also mended repeatedly. The outer layer of bamboo was used as a wrapping for moist food, just as plastic wrap is today. Bamboo itself was fashioned into myriad everyday wares: brooms, rakes, strainers and sieves, broad-brimmed hats, and so on. The rice straw left after the harvest was used for compost, rain capes, sandals for people and shoes for horses, vests, and thatch. Of course it was also burned and the ash used to fertilize rice fields. Rice itself was ingested, digested, and eventually excreted. Public toilets were installed outside all mansions and row houses and at frequent intervals along every highway. Since farmers bought human waste for cash or vegetables, it was important not to squander any. At the end of the eighteenth century the price of waste jumped, and the farmers of Musashi and Shimôsa, not far from Edo, mounted large-scale opposition movements.

Even after the Meiji Restoration of 1868 brought the Edo period to an end, daily life remained unchanged. When the American zoologist Edward Morse arrived in Tokyo (as Edo had been renamed) in 1877, he was amazed to learn that its mortality rate was lower than Boston's. Investigating the reasons, he noticed that there was no dysentery, cholera, or malaria. In short, Japan had no diseases spread by poor sanitation. During the Edo period cholera outbreaks had occurred only when foreign ships put into port. In his book Japan Day by Day (1917), Morse attributed the lack of such diseases to the fact that all human waste was carried away from the city and used as fertilizer. He observed that in America, by contrast, untreated sewage was allowed to run into bays and inlets, contaminating water and killing marine life, while people were continually assailed by the noxious fumes of putrefaction and sewage. Conditions were the same or worse in Europe; stories of filth tossed into the street from the upper windows of houses and of the stench of the Thames are well known.

Actually, the system of waste disposal discussed above began only in the Edo period. Starting around 1649 toilets debouching directly into rivers and moats were torn down and it was forbidden to haul away sewage by boat and dump it into the water, and around 1656 farmers began carting off sewage to use as fertilizer. Since there seems to have been no charge at first, it is believed that making farmers pay was instituted to encourage city dwellers not to dispose of waste in the old way. And farmers consented to pay because having or not having this fertilizer affected the size of their harvests. Thanks to this cycle, there was no need for sewerage systems even in the city. Instead the water-supply system was developed. The Kanda, Tamagawa, Senkawa, Aoyama, Mita, and Honjo waterways were used to replenish the city's wells. Since there was no sewerage system and the waterways were not contaminated by waste, drinking water did not transmit disease.

Far from contracting the economy, this perfect recycling system invigorated the domestic market because it entailed the development and marketing of goods. Higher crop yields and increased production of technological goods made people more affluent, and in the end everything returned to the soil whence it had come. For example, garbage used to be dumped into rivers, but to prevent riverbeds from rising, in the mid­seventeenth century garbage began to be used as landfill instead. This land in turn became fields producing food crops.

Three features in addition to the development of urban waterworks distinguished the Edo-period water-use system: the conservation of mountain forests, the construction of irrigation channels and moats, and the storing of water in ponds and paddies. Thus the Japanese succeeded in slowing the flow of the country's rushing rivers. This is the opposite of the modern water-use system, which reinforces the bed and banks of rivers so that they will flow into the sea as rapidly as possible. It has become necessary to build high concrete embankments so rivers will flow swiftly into the ocean because the danger of flooding has been increased by development extending to the very edge of rivers, which leaves them no leeway when their waters rise, and by deforestation and the consequent lack of forest-management personnel. Through simultaneous reforestation and riverbank improvement the shogunate put in place a meticulous water-control system.

We can see from landscape woodblock prints that the rivers, canals, and moats of Edo and the dry riverbeds on its outskirts were lined with trees. This is especially evident in the nineteenth-century artist Andô Hiroshige's Meisho Edo hyakkei (One Hundred Views of Edo); 80% of the prints in the series include water. Edo's profuse greenery was the result of tree planting along dry riverbeds and the afforestation of hills, epitomized by Ueno Hill, for water control; the vast gardens of the estates all the daimyô (han rulers) were obliged to maintain in Edo; and the many potted plants that ordinary people grew in front of their houses. The public parks Shinjuku Gyoen, Kôrakuen, and Rikugien, the campuses of the University of Tokyo and Sophia University, and the grounds of the U.S. Embassy and a number of major hotels are former daimyô estates. This is why Tokyo has much more greenery than Osaka.

REVIVAL OF EDO-PERIOD VALUES

We have discarded the Edo-period idea of "proper disposition," beginning and ending things properly to ensure an uninterrupted cyclical flow. As I have already noted, this goes beyond mere frugality. The Edo-period perception of reality held that just as everything has a beginning, so it has an end; people never thought in terms of endless expansion, continuation, and increase. The same can be said of the sense of time. We think of time as a linear progression toward the future (or a denouement), but in the Edo period time was regarded as a recurrent cycle, like that of the four seasons. Even a human life would return to its source after 60 years or so. We need to acquire this cyclical sensibility once again. As used in the Edo period, terms like kaihatsu (development) and the above-noted kaibutsu (development of goods) were infused with the Oriental medical concept of drawing out the abilities of all flora and fauna so that no one would starve and everyone could lead a healthy life. This meant knowing the abilities of things; it did not mean breaking the cycle and aspiring to quantitative expansion.

The Edo-period sense of quantity was epitomized by the phrase bun o mamoru, "maintaining bounds." This had nothing to do with upholding the social hierarchy. Everyone, even the emperor or the shôgun, had human bounds. Overstepping them and being avaricious was condemned as shisuru (literally, "making private"), behavior whereby one sought to monopolize that which was public, that which was meant to be shared with all people and with nature. As the existence of common lands shows, public goods did not exist to suppress individuals--far from it--but were to be shared for the sake of everyone's survival.

We can no longer afford not to know the bounds. We should be able to learn from an age when people were judged by their ability to utilize finite resources to the full, cycling and recycling them and using them to the very end.

Translated from "Edo shomin no chie ni manabu risaikuru," in This Is Yomiuri, January 1998, pp. 81­90; slightly abridged. (Courtesy of the Yomiuri Shimbun)

© 1998 Japan Echo Inc.