The Dawn of Russian Military Observation in Japan
In the closing years of the 19th century, as imperial powers jockeyed for position in East Asia, Russia established its first formal military attaché system in Japan. The pioneering work began with Colonel Vogak, but the true institutional foundation came in late 1896 when Colonel Yan-Zhul, chief of staff of the 13th Infantry Division, arrived as Russia’s first dedicated military attaché to Japan. His detailed reports back to St. Petersburg revealed both admiration and strategic calculation.
Yan-Zhul’s observations after witnessing Japanese military maneuvers proved remarkably perceptive: “While three or four days of observation hardly suffice to judge an army’s quality, I must say the infantry regiments of the 5th and 6th Divisions left the best impression. In training (individual, company, and battalion levels), loading drills, and movement, I dare say these units equal any European army.” This professional respect didn’t prevent him from drafting invasion plans – including a detailed 1898 memorandum outlining potential landing sites at Shimizu Port and subsequent advances toward Shizuoka and Nagoya – that somehow reached Emperor Meiji’s desk.
The Evolving Russian Perceptions of Japanese Military Power
Russian assessments of Japan’s military capabilities fluctuated dramatically during this crucial five-year period. When Colonel Vanoysky temporarily replaced Yan-Zhul in 1898-1899, he delivered a strikingly different evaluation that reflected growing Russian skepticism:
“An army organized on principles wholly alien to its national character must experience internal dissonance. The Japanese military hasn’t fully escaped this condition. They’ve adopted European forms with typically Japanese exactitude but missed the essential principles. This phenomenon appears throughout modern Japanese life.”
Vanoysky’s conservative view – that Japan needed “decades if not centuries” to truly internalize Western military doctrine – found favor with War Minister Kuropatkin, who scribbled approvingly in the margins: “Finally, a sober assessment unlike our previous attachés’ Japanophilia.” This marked a significant shift from earlier more alarmed reports.
Naval Attachés and the Growing Maritime Rivalry
Russia’s naval observers proved more consistent in their warnings. Captain Chagin, arriving in 1896, emerged as one of Russia’s most knowledgeable Japan experts. His 1898 treatise on the Imperial Japanese Navy concluded with stark clarity: “Fighting Japan within its territorial waters would be extremely difficult, perhaps impossible. No power in the East currently possesses sufficient naval and land forces for such a campaign.”
His successor, the brilliant Alexander Rusin (appointed 1899), would later become the Imperial Navy’s final chief of staff. Rusin maintained an extensive intelligence network, including the fascinating case of Takahashi Monkaku – a former Orthodox seminary student turned translator-spy whose personal betrayals led him into Russian service. Japanese police meticulously tracked Rusin’s port inspections and factory surveys, revealing Tokyo’s growing unease.
The Korean Timber Concession Scheme: Imperial Overreach
Parallel to military observations, Russian adventurers pursued economic schemes that would inadvertently heighten tensions. The 1896 acquisition of northern Korean timber rights by Vladivostok merchant Julius Brynner (grandfather of actor Yul Brynner) initiated a bizarre imperial gambit. Military figures like Bezobrazov transformed this commercial venture into a geopolitical fantasy, proposing to:
“Peacefully conquer Korea… Our representatives should soon occupy appropriate positions in Korean governance, concentrating all influence over national affairs in company hands.”
Despite War Minister Kuropatkin’s warnings that “conflict with Japan seems inevitable if we pursue Korean ambitions,” Tsar Nicholas II approved the scheme. The subsequent 1898-1899 survey expeditions along the Yalu River – disguised as commercial ventures but including military officers – only confirmed Japanese suspicions of Russian expansionism.
War Games and Ominous Predictions
The Russian naval staff conducted revealing tabletop exercises in early 1900 that eerily foreshadowed actual events:
– Japan striking before formal declarations of war
– Rapid Korean peninsula landings
– Early assaults on Port Arthur
– Russian naval disadvantages requiring cautious strategies
Analysts noted grimly that Port Arthur “holds little positive strategic value but enormous negative consequences if lost,” while concluding Japan could establish firm control of Korea before Russian reinforcements arrived. These simulations – occurring four years before actual hostilities – demonstrated remarkable prescience about the coming conflict’s dynamics.
The Gathering Storm (1900)
As the century turned, Russian leadership produced contradictory assessments. Foreign Minister Muravyov’s January 1900 memorandum urged caution: “Given our precarious Pacific position, we must ask whether we can afford conflict with Japan. The War Ministry confirms any Korean campaign would prove costly and fruitless.”
Yet the same month, naval war games assumed Japanese forces could land 70,000 troops in Korea within weeks. Kuropatkin’s massive 138-page February report contained both sober analysis (“A weak, independent Korea under our protection would be ideal”) and fantastical proposals like convincing European powers to “collectively disarm Japan’s navy.”
These documents reveal an empire torn between recognizing Japan’s rising power and clinging to assumptions of Asian inferiority – a cognitive dissonance that would prove disastrous when tested in 1904. The attachés’ reports, timber schemes, and military exercises all pointed toward an unavoidable collision, yet Russia failed to either accommodate Japanese ambitions or prepare adequately for war. This five-year prelude demonstrates how great powers often see crises coming yet remain incapable of adjusting course.