A Nation Caught Off Guard

When Commodore Matthew Perry’s black ships appeared off the coast of Japan in July 1853, they did not merely surprise the Japanese people—they exposed a fundamental paralysis within the Tokugawa political system. For decades, voices had warned of precisely this scenario, yet their warnings went unheeded. The arrival of American warships revealed not just military vulnerability but a deeper crisis of governance that would ultimately unravel the shogunate itself.

The political landscape of late Tokugawa Japan was characterized by a complex balance of power between the shogunate in Edo and approximately 250 regional domains ruled by daimyo. This decentralized structure, while providing stability for over two centuries, created significant challenges for coordinated national policy-making, particularly regarding foreign threats. The shogunate maintained authority through a system of alternating attendance (sankin-kōtai) that required daimyo to spend every other year in Edo, effectively keeping potential rivals under watch while draining their financial resources.

Voices in the Wilderness: The Unheeded Warnings

Long before Perry’s arrival, astute observers had recognized Japan’s vulnerability to foreign pressure. Two figures stand out for their prescient warnings: Aizawa Seishisai of Mito domain and Sakuma Shōzan of Matsushiro domain. Through their respective daimyo, both men had consistently petitioned the shogunate to strengthen coastal defenses, build modern warships, and develop artillery capabilities.

Their concerns were not merely speculative. The First Opium War and understood the technological gap between Japan and the West.

Despite these warnings, the Tokugawa bureaucracy remained largely inert. In 1842, the shogunate did repeal the “Edict to Repel Foreign Ships” , recognizing the policy’s dangerous impracticality. However, this defensive measure was not accompanied by substantive improvements to Japan’s military capabilities.

The depth of Japan’s unpreparedness becomes starkly clear when examining specific defensive arrangements. In the strategically vital areas of Sagami Bay and the Bōsō Peninsula—the very approaches to Edo itself—coastal defenses consisted of merely two or three antiquated cannons per kilometer. The few Western-style artillery pieces that did exist lacked sufficient ammunition. Most critically, due to the longstanding prohibition on constructing large ships , Japan possessed not a single vessel capable of confronting Perry’s steam-powered warships.

The Psychology of Impotence

The response to Perry’s arrival among those who had advocated for preparedness was not one of vindication but rather profound frustration and self-recrimination. Tokugawa Nariaki of Mito domain, when consulted by Senior Councillor Abe Masahiro about whether to accept President Fillmore’s letter, responded with bitter irony: “Although this old fool repeatedly offered anxious advice in the past, it was not adopted. Now I do not know what should be done.”

Even more revealing is the correspondence of Yoshida Shōin, which records Sakuma Shōzan’s reaction: “I knew things would come to this. Several years ago, I frequently submitted petitions concerning ships and artillery, but they were not adopted. Consequently, today we have no alternative but to decide the issue through land combat. If we depend on the peace of our prosperous age regardless of what happens, contentedly beating our bellies and striking the ground in celebration, we will be reduced to this state. It is extremely humiliating and truly regrettable, regrettable.”

These responses reflect more than personal disappointment—they reveal a growing recognition that Japan’s vulnerability stemmed not from a lack of strategic ideas but from the political system’s inability to implement them. The shogunate’s decision-making structures, designed for maintaining domestic control rather than responding to external threats, proved inadequate to the challenge.

The Rise of Shimazu Nariakira and Saigō Takamori

Amid this political stagnation, new leadership emerged from Satsuma domain in southern Kyushu. In 1851, the 43-year-old Shimazu Nariakira became daimyo following an unusually long period as heir apparent. Due to the sankin-kōtai system, Nariakira had spent extensive time in Edo, where he cultivated relationships across the political spectrum.

Nariakira’s connections were remarkably broad. He maintained ties with exclusionists like Tokugawa Nariaki of Mito and his retainers Fujita Tōko and Toda Ujikane, while simultaneously building relationships with open-country advocates like Matsudaira Yoshinaga of Echizen and reform-minded shogunate officials. These included key figures who would handle the American negotiations: coastal defense officers Iwase Tadanari and Ōkubo Tadahiro, and Finance Magistrate Kawaji Toshiakira.

Nariakira’s arrival in Edo for his first sankin-kōtai as daimyo coincided fortuitously with the year following Perry’s initial visit. This timing proved advantageous both for Nariakira and for his protégé, Saigō Takamori, who would emerge as a pivotal figure in the coming transformation.

Saigō earned Nariakira’s trust and developed connections with senior retainers from multiple domains including Mito, Owari, Echizen, Higo, and Chōshū. These relationships eventually coalesced into the network of “like-minded individuals” that would play crucial roles in the Meiji Restoration. While initially serving as Nariakira’s representative, Saigō’s exceptional character and abilities transformed these political connections into genuine bonds of trust among reform-minded samurai.

The Satsuma approach of concentrating external relations through a single representative—first Saigō, then Yoshii Tomoane after Saigō’s exile to Amami Ōshima—proved remarkably effective in building this coalition across domain boundaries.

The Real Political Divide: Reform Versus Status Quo

Contrary to popular understanding, the primary political division in late Tokugawa Japan was not simply between “open country” and “expel the barbarians” factions. As negotiations with the Americans progressed toward the Treaty of Amity and Commerce in 1858, many domain leaders recognized that some form of international engagement was inevitable.

The late scholar Satō Seizaburō, a leading authority on Bakumatsu political history, noted: “As far as I have been able to determine, there is no reliable historical material showing that the lords of powerful domains petitioned the court requesting the emperor refuse to approve the treaty. Most of them recognized that concluding a commercial treaty had become unavoidable at that point.”

For many reformists, the more urgent question was not whether to open the country but how to reform the shogunate itself. The central political struggle focused on the succession to the ailing Shogun Iesada. A coalition of reform-minded domains advocated for Tokugawa Yoshinobu , son of Tokugawa Nariaki of Mito, as the next shogun.

As Satō observed: “For those supporting Yoshinobu’s elevation, whether they approved of concluding the commercial treaty was less important than whether they could successfully install Yoshinobu as shogun.” This perspective was exemplified by Nagoka Okujō, senior retainer of Higo domain and another of Saigō’s “like-minded individuals,” who declared: “The fundamental question is whether Lord Yoshinobu can assume leadership. The rise and fall of the nation depends on this. The rest are minor matters not worth discussing.”

The Structural Obstacles to Reform

Opposition to Yoshinobu’s candidacy came primarily from the fudai daimyo—descendants of those samurai who had followed Tokugawa Ieyasu before the decisive Battle of Sekigahara in 1600. Although their domain revenues were far smaller than those of the collateral branches .

The economic disparities were striking. With the sole exception of II Naosuke’s Hikone domain at 350,000 koku, most senior councillors controlled domains of approximately 100,000 koku, while junior councillors typically held between 10,000 and 20,000 koku. These figures paled beside the resources of major outside domains: Satsuma’s 770,000 koku, Echizen’s 320,000 koku, or Tosa’s 240,000 koku.

This economic and political configuration created fundamentally different interests. The minor and medium fudai daimyo who controlled the shogunate’s central organs generally supported opening the country but opposed structural reforms that might diminish their influence. By contrast, the larger collateral and outside domains, while divided on foreign policy, shared an interest in political reforms that would give them greater voice in national decisions.

The Legacy of Political Paralysis

Japan’s unpreparedness for Perry’s arrival had consequences far beyond the initial shock of the black ships. The political divisions exposed in 1853-1854 would deepen over the following decade and a half, ultimately contributing to the collapse of the Tokugawa shogunate and the Meiji Restoration of 1868.

The crisis revealed that Japan’s governing structures, however effective they had been in maintaining domestic peace, were ill-suited to addressing external threats. The cumbersome decision-making process, the balancing of competing interests between the shogunate and domains, and the lack of mechanisms for coordinated national action all contributed to Japan’s vulnerability.

Yet this very crisis would ultimately catalyze transformation. The recognition of national weakness spurred a remarkable period of learning and adaptation. Within decades, Japan would transform itself from a vulnerable feudal state into a modern imperial power capable of defeating a European nation in the Russo-Japanese War .

The political alliances formed in response to the Perry crisis—particularly the networks established by figures like Shimazu Nariakira and Saigō Takamori—would provide the foundation for the Meiji government. The realization that domain interests needed to be subordinated to national survival would eventually lead to the abolition of the domains themselves and the creation of a centralized nation-state.

Modern Relevance: Lessons from Political Paralysis

The events surrounding Perry’s arrival offer enduring lessons about governance and preparedness. Japan’s experience demonstrates how political systems designed for one set of challenges can prove inadequate when confronted with fundamentally new threats. The inability to translate warning into action, the prioritization of internal balance over external preparedness, and the failure to overcome institutional inertia all have modern parallels in various national contexts.

Furthermore, Japan’s response—eventual transformation through selective adaptation of foreign models while preserving cultural distinctness—offers a fascinating case study in managed change. The Meiji Restoration stands as one of history’s most remarkable examples of a society consciously transforming itself to meet new challenges while maintaining continuity with its past.

The story of Japan’s unpreparedness in 1853 remains relevant today as nations confront new challenges from technological disruption to climate change to geopolitical shifts. The fundamental questions remain: How do political systems recognize and respond to emerging threats? How can institutions designed for stability adapt to changing circumstances? And how can societies balance the preservation of valued traditions with the necessity of change?

The frustrated warnings of Aizawa, Sakuma, and others echo through history as reminders that foresight without the capacity to act offers little protection against coming storms. Their legacy, and Japan’s eventual transformation, reminds us that while recognition of vulnerability is painful, it can also be the necessary first step toward renewal.