The Third French Republic of Ezo, 1869 - 1870, Japan.

The Third French Republic is generally considered to have been established in Paris in 1870, and reaching a conclusion in 1940 after a short disagreement with its neighbour, Germany. However, this was arguably the Fourth Republic, the Third having been established on the island of Ezo, today more commonly known as Hokkaido, in northern Japan under a commander by the name of Captain Jules Brunet. Granted he used a Japanese vassal as the face of the new country, but there appears little question, it was a Frenchman pulling the strings.

The origins of this short-lived Republic had its roots in the final days of the Japanese civil war (The Boshin War) as the Tokugawa Shogunate collapsed and surrendered to the forces of the Emperor. Admittedly the Emperor didn't have much to do with this, being little more than a puppet for the cause of the western Daimyo himself at this point. In 1867, recognising the inevitable, Tokugawa Yoshinobu abdicated power, withdrawing to his lands in Shizuoka, west of Tokyo and essentially went on permanent gardening leave until his death in 1913. For the commanders of his forces and their French military advisors though, this wasn't the end of the issue.   

Fleeing to Ezo under the leadership of Tokugawa's naval commander, Admiral Enomoto Takeaki, along with several thousand troops and the final loot from the national treasury, the remaining retainers established their position in Hakodate. In an uncanny replay of the power arrangements between the Emperor and Shogun of the last 250 years, Enomoto petitioned the Imperial Court for recognition of the new Republic of Ezo, with himself as President, whilst Brunet directed military activity from the wings. The petition was summarily rejected and forces dispatched to retake the islands. Brunet fled by French warship and Enomoto taken prisoner, though later rehabilitated. And so ended the short-lived and little-known Third French Republic of Ezo, 1869 - 1870. Vive Japon!

Shogun Tokugawa Yoshinobu
in French military uniform c1867 

The Moving Story of Hachiko - and maybe not the one you were expecting

The story of Hachiko, the purebred Akita dog, is a touching one and represents to many Japanese the very definition of devotion. Having been bought as a pet in 1924, Hachiko would walk with his master each morning to the local Shibuya station in central Tokyo and then return in the evenings to welcome him home. Except, one day in 1925, his master didn't return having been struck down at his work in Tokyo University by a fatal stroke. Despite this, for the next ten years, Hachiko continued to return to the station each evening to await his master's return.

This act of loyalty was eventually recognised by Japan and a bronze statue of Hachiko was erected outside Shibuya Station where he would wait for his master each day. Hachiko himself was guest of honour at the unveiling ceremony. This unquestioning and devoted dog had caught the nations hearts and people thanked him for it. However, all things must come to pass and a year later in 1935 Hachiko hung up his collar on the streets of Shibuya. Sadly, the statue didn't last much long either. Being needed for the war effort, it was melted down and recycled.

But you can't keep an old dog down and, in 1948, a new statue of Hachiko was commissioned from the son of the original sculpture. In this c1952 photograph of Shibuya Crossing, in the left hand corner, you can see him sitting there, still waiting for his master to come home. If this image were taken today, Starbucks would be on the right and Shibuya Station out of picture to the left. And this is where it becomes even more interesting. Here Hachiko is clearly facing towards the crossing but today the statue faces away. And that's because, in 1989, he was relocated as the area underwent a minor re-developedment. In more ways than one, a moving story indeed.

Update: Images of the 1948 unveiling ceremony kindly forwarded by @jd_tokyo 

The Ghosts of the Hakkoda March

Although still unfolding in Nepal, the tragedy on Everest has finally come to a close. The loss of seventeen climbers and crew, though terrible, belies the heroism of the pilots in their small helicopters who brought the remaining 140 mountaineers to safety with countless flights carrying two or three each time across the still unstable landscape. As with Ontake, which erupted without warning in September of 2014, mountains are unpredictable and dangerous places and not all the risks can be planned for or even foreseen. No one expected an earthquake would bring down an entire mountainside.  

The worst mountaineering disaster in Japan happened in the brutal winter of 1902. The country was preparing for war with Russia, at the time a great European power, and had only shed it's feudal society some thirty years before. Concerned that the coastal roads and rail systems were vulnerable to shelling from the Imperial Russian Navy, the government looked to establishing a central supply route through the mountains of the northern province of Aomori. And so a contingent of 210 men, poorly equipped and unused to the icy winter environment, embarked on a twenty kilometre march in the last week of January.

Although initially progress was good, four kilometres from their objective a blizzard came from nowhere. Disoriented and unprepared for the conditions, the men were soon lost in the whiteout as the temperature dropped to below -40C. Finally, a rescue team was dispatched three days later but by this time 193 men had already succumbed to exposure and six more would lose their lives after being rescued and brought to the relative safety of the garrison. Of the remaining eleven, only three survived unscathed to tell their story. As the Ghosts of the Hakkoda March will testify, mountains are hard.

Simple steps to prepare for an earthquake

With the current terrible events Nepal dominating the headlines, the power of the planet is front and centre on our television screens once again. Although there is always the Monday-morning-Quarterback who "predicted" the Big One was coming from watching his fish swim in circles or local sheep climb mountains, it remains an alchemists dream to actually be able to do so. The science of today can predict (to an extent) where an earthquake will happen but not yet when. Even then, Kobe was on a surprise unknown fault line and no one believed Tohoku could produce a 9.0.

If you live in an earthquake zone, whether it's Japan, California or Italy, you accept that it's a fact of life you are going to experience one at some point. But if you live your life worrying about it, better to move to the Australian Outback or middle England and save your stress levels. However, having been "lucky" enough to be in Japan for both the Kobe and Tohoku quakes, there are a number of actions that become obvious post-event that you can easily take in advance. This won't prevent a quake, but it might make the difference afterwards. Not an exhaustive list but here are a few thoughts:

1   Ensure there is nothing over the bed that can fall on you. Earthquakes happen at night as well as the day and the last thing you want is your favourite glass-framed picture landing on your head when one does.

2   Have a communication plan with your family. In the event of a major incident the phone lines will be down within minutes and may remain out of action for several days. But anything internet based may still work including Skype, Facebook, Twitter etc even from your phone.

3   Know the school policy in the instance of an earthquake. Do you pick the children up or will they be sent home? And then, what happens if neither is possible and night is closing in? 

4   Set the "Find-my-Phone" system for your family's smartphones. After the first thirty seconds of shock the next thing you're going to be thinking about is where's your family. Once you know that, it is so much easier to decide what to do next.  

5   Prepare an earthquake bag. In fact, prepare two and keep them in separate places in the house in case one becomes unreachable. Include the standards: water, money, basic medical kit, rain covers etc. And use a bag with wheels. You might be walking with it a long way.

But most of all, don't worry about it everyday. Enjoy your life. As far as we know, it's the only one you've got down here.

Abe in America, Okinawa in despair

Okinawa is a beautiful, subtropical island some two and a half hours flight from Tokyo. Although today it is a prefecture of Japan it was actually an independent kingdom until 1879 when the King was summarily replaced by a Prefectural Governor sent by the Meiji government. And although it had been vassal state of China, in 1609 the Satsuma clan of Kyushu had already invaded and enforced a dual vassal status from then on. However, to avoid antagonising China at the time it wasn't formally annexed for the next 270 years.

Although a proud nation, maintaining six separate languages largely incomprehensible to mainlanders, Okinawa remains sadly troubled by its past. The only area of Japan to experience a land based conflict in WWII, the island lost up to one third of its population to the invasion either directly or indirectly by their own hand at the instruction of the Japanese military powers. Even today, whilst Prime Minister Abe is on tour in America, the question of the relocation, or as the islanders would prefer, the removal, of the air-base at Futenma remains highly controversial (though Abe has said "it will not be a problem" to his hosts).

Post war, Okinawa remained under US administration until November 1971 when it was returned to Japanese control and finally Okinawans could again reach the mainland without a passport. Even this though wasn't without its detractors as a vocal minority were actually set on all out independence. It did mean though that the prefecture would, in 1978, become only the second world territory to convert from driving on the right, as in America, to the left, as in the rest of Japan. Perhaps the most poignant moment in its modern history though came slightly before the signing of the transfer treaty itself. Although officially unconfirmed and after everything they had been through, Hirohito casually remarked to Nixon "you can keep them if you like".

   

The Kites of Hamamatsu - a sight for Golden Week

For me, it all started when my parents gave me a Peter Powell Stunt Kite for my tenth birthday. I had never seen anything like it before and was instantly hooked. Two string design and a strong aluminium frame, it could dive bomb and loop-the-loop all day. Intrigued by the possibilities, my father soon started making kites of all shapes and sizes, some so large they needed the aid of a car to just anchor them down. One, made of mylar (a type of untearable aluminium foil), flew wonderfully but it had to go when the police came to check a strange object appearing on local airport radar. Some won awards and one, with a strong but simple self-correcting design, was considered for a radio mast on an antarctic expedition. On the whole, I've loved kites from a young age.

And so, when a Japanese friend told me of the Fighting Kites of Hamamatsu it was an instant must see. Each year, during Golden Week, local teams, all in happi-coats, compete with each other across the great Nakatajima sand dunes of the Enshunada coastline. The kites are beautifully crafted and, up to four meters across, take a team of a dozen or more to fly and control them. With nearly a hundred in the air, more than a thousand kite warriors bate their breath and wait for the canon roar of fireworks that signal it's time to let the games begin. And the fighting starts. The hemp lines are deliberately crossed as teams run back and forth trying to cut each other's creations out of the sky. The last kite flying, the winner. And the crowds go wild. 

The origins of the festival date back to the sixteenth century when the town's folk celebrated the birth of a son to the Lord of Hamamatsu Castle. And this being Japan, the day doesn't finish there. As thousands make their way back into the city, the niijikai, literally "second party", begins. Giant, ornate floats are hauled through the streets, some more enthusiastically than others as the day's consumption begins to take its toll. Many are  carrying drums and flutes and lutes, adding to the general cacophony. And at the end of it all, you finally flop down into your  seat for the ninety minute ride back to Tokyo. Happy but exhausted, ears still ringing, all you need to worry about now is, where's that nice lady with the beer trolley.

Hamamatsu Festival - 3~5 May

When an Englishman went to war with Japan

No, the events I'm referring to are not those commencing in 1941. That was the second time Great Britain and the Empire of Japan had crossed swords. This action occurred much earlier. In 1863 to be precise. The (thankfully short) campaign was precipitated by the unfortunate death a year earlier of an Englishman by the name of Charles Lennox Richardson in what became known as the Namamugi Incident. The English considered his death unprovoked murder, the Japanese, a justifiable action considering how inappropriate his actions had been.

Travelling north from the foreign enclave of Yokohama on the Tokaido, the ancient highway to Tokyo, Richardson and his party were enjoying a day out to visit the local Kawasaki Daishi temple. En route they encountered the retinue of the Regent of Satsuma embarking on the long journey to Kyushu after a stay in the capital. Refusing to make way, Richardson reportedly remarked to his friends that he "knew how to deal with these people" and rode through the centre of the Regent's entourage. The Regent, refusing to believe anyone could be that provocative, proposed his rapid demise then and there.

Outraged and demanding reparations, the British ordered their ironclads to Kagoshima, the capital of the Satsuma domain, bombarding, and eventually setting fire to, the city. However, having anticipated the arrival of the British ships, the population had previously been evacuated out of range and the city's own guns prepared. Returning fire, surprising the British and felling the Captain of the British flagship, Japan gave as good as it got. The "Anglo-Satsuma War" eventually cost the lives of five Japanese and thirteen British combatants but the Daimyo was so impressed by the British guns that eventually he became a supporter and entered into a treaty. And he never did repay the shogun for the loan he'd taken to settle claim in the first place.