The Fragile Foundation of a New Government

The Meiji Restoration of 1868 represented one of history’s most remarkable political transformations, yet the new government that emerged from the ashes of the Tokugawa shogunate stood on precarious ground. Following the Boshin War, the victorious alliance of Satsuma, Chōshū, and Tosa domains returned their forces to their home territories, leaving the central government in Tokyo with a troubling reality: it possessed neither military strength nor a nationwide support base. Despite the powerful rhetoric of “restoring imperial rule,” the practical challenges of governing a nation divided into approximately 300 semi-autonomous domains appeared overwhelming without either military capability or institutionalized public deliberation.

This precarious situation created a critical dilemma for the new leadership. How could a government with no army of its own command respect from domains that maintained significant military forces? How could it establish legitimacy without either the traditional authority of the shogunate or the democratic mandate of representative institutions? The answer emerged in an innovative, if ultimately flawed, institution that would attempt to bridge the gap between feudal tradition and modern governance.

Institutionalizing Public Deliberation: The Creation of the Kōgisho

In March 1869 as the primary mechanism for institutionalizing “public debate and opinion.” This assembly brought together 227 representatives—one from each domain—to deliberate on important matters of state. The very existence of this body represented a remarkable innovation in Japanese governance, creating a national forum for discussion while preserving the traditional power structures of the domain system.

The Kōgisho represented a compromise between absolute imperial rule and representative government. While not a parliament in the modern sense, it provided a venue where domain interests could be articulated and negotiated. The assembly’s structure maintained the traditional status hierarchy, with samurai representatives predominating, yet it established the principle that major policy decisions required deliberation beyond the inner circles of the imperial government.

The establishment of this assembly reflected the complex political philosophy of the early Meiji leadership. These men recognized that simply replacing shogunal autocracy with imperial autocracy would not address the fundamental governance challenges facing Japan. They sought to create mechanisms that would legitimize government decisions through a process of consultation while maintaining the imperial institution’s ultimate authority.

The Military Funding Crisis of 1870

The true test of the new political arrangement came in May 1870 to fund national army and navy forces. For a domain yielding 100,000 koku of rice, this would mean contributing 18,000 koku to the central government.

This proposal sparked immediate controversy, exposing the fundamental tensions between central authority and domain autonomy. The financial burden would be substantial for domains already strained by the costs of the recent civil war. More significantly, it raised profound constitutional questions about the relationship between the central government and the domains, and between civil and military authority.

The debate revealed the fragile nature of the Meiji government’s authority. Without its own military forces, the Tokyo government depended entirely on the cooperation of domains that maintained independent military capabilities. The funding proposal represented an attempt to establish both financial and military control over the entire country, but it risked alienating the very domains whose support had brought the government to power.

The Samurai Opposition: Regional Interests Versus National Needs

The most significant opposition emerged from Satsuma, whose military forces had been instrumental in winning the Boshin War. Ijichi Masaharu, attending the assembly as Satsuma’s vice-governor (gon-daisanji), articulated a position that would have far-reaching consequences: “Even our domain’s internal finances are extremely strained at present. To demand one-fifth of our annual revenue now would be impossible to fulfill, even if we completely abolished our domain’s standing forces.” Having delivered this statement, Ijichi promptly returned to Kagoshima, effectively withdrawing from the deliberative process.

Tosa domain, another key contributor to the imperial victory, expressed similar reservations. Prominent figures including Itagaki Taisuke, Tani Tateki, and Kataoka Kenkichi argued that domains like Tosa that had sacrificed greatly for the imperial cause should not bear the same burden as former “enemy domains” from northeastern Japan that had opposed the restoration. They further noted the fundamental unfairness of being asked to both maintain their own military forces and contribute to central forces—effectively being “taxed twice” for military purposes.

This opposition revealed a critical reality: the very domains that had enabled the imperial victory now prioritized strengthening their own military capabilities over supporting a centralized force. Their stance reflected a particular vision of Japan’s political future—one in which significant military power remained with the domains rather than being concentrated in Tokyo.

Ijichi Masaharu: Voice of Satsuma’s Military Interests

The identity of Satsuma’s representative in this confrontation deserves particular attention. Ijichi Masaharu was no ordinary domain official—he had served as Saigō Takamori’s right-hand man in military matters for six years, since Saigō’s return to power in 1864. His presence at the assembly and his decisive actions reflected not merely domain policy but almost certainly the position of Saigō himself, the most influential military figure of the restoration.

Ijichi’s military background and close association with Saigō gave his statements particular weight. When he declared Satsuma’s opposition to the military funding proposal and withdrew from the assembly, he was effectively demonstrating that the domain possessed both the will and the capability to resist central government policies it found unacceptable. His actions signaled that Satsuma’s loyalty to the new government was conditional rather than absolute, based on mutual interest rather than unquestioning obedience.

The significance of Ijichi’s role extends beyond this specific incident. It illustrates how personal relationships and military networks continued to exercise decisive influence in the new political institutions supposedly based on rational deliberation and representative principles. The early Meiji government operated within a complex web of loyalties that often prioritized personal and domain connections over formal institutional arrangements.

The Conservative Nature of Early Meiji Deliberation

The military funding debate occurred within an assembly that proved surprisingly conservative in its overall orientation. Despite the radical changes occurring throughout Japanese society, the Shūgi-in frequently rejected proposals aimed at modernizing social structures and creating a more egalitarian system.

Notable examples include the rejection of a proposal to grant all Japanese—regardless of social class—the right to use surnames. Instead, the assembly approved a modified measure restricting this privilege to the samurai class, with over 80% of representatives supporting this maintenance of traditional status distinctions. Similarly, when consulted about Japan’s future political structure—whether to maintain the domain system or move toward centralized administration—only 61 domains supported the centralized model, while 115 preferred maintaining the traditional feudal arrangement, with 41 offering ambiguous responses.

This conservative orientation reflected the composition of the assembly, dominated by samurai representatives who naturally sought to preserve the status distinctions from which they benefited. Their resistance to social reform illustrated the tension within the Meiji government itself, between modernizing reformers and traditionalists who accepted political change only insofar as it preserved their privileged position.

The assembly’s conservatism, combined with the military particularism of the former imperial domains, created a situation where the central government possessed remarkably little effective power. Tokyo could issue pronouncements and create institutions, but implementation depended entirely on the cooperation of domains that maintained independent military and financial resources.

The Return of the Heroes: Rumors of Military Intervention

Approximately four months after Ijichi’s dramatic withdrawal from the assembly, rumors began circulating that suggested more direct military action might be imminent. In September 1870 , Tosa councillor Sasaki Takayuki reported alarming news: “Saigō intends to lead a large force to the capital, planning to round up the government leadership. It appears he plans to depart soon.”

What made this rumor particularly significant was how observers connected it to Ijichi’s actions months earlier. Sasaki himself linked the two events, noting: “We should establish regulations as soon as possible and find a way to bring military power under imperial control. Only then can we begin to discuss principles and public debate… Ijichi and others claimed illness and returned to their domains, but the court lacks the power to hold them accountable.”

These concerns revealed the government’s fundamental vulnerability. Without military forces of its own, it could not compel obedience from powerful domains, even when their representatives openly flouted imperial institutions. The very heroes of the restoration now appeared as potential threats to the government they had helped create.

The rumors about Saigō’s intentions—whether accurate or not—reflected the growing tension between the central government’s need for military control and the domains’ determination to maintain their autonomy. They also demonstrated how personal authority continued to outweigh institutional authority in this transitional period, with government officials more concerned about Saigō’s actions than about formal political processes.

The Dialectics of Power: Resolving the Contradiction

The situation presented what Hegel and Marx might have recognized as a dialectical contradiction: the central government needed military power to control the domains, particularly Satsuma’s forces, but it could not create that military power without involving the very figures—Saigō Takamori and Ijichi Masaharu—who represented domain autonomy.

The solution emerged from this contradiction itself. If the government needed military forces to control domain armies, and if it needed military expertise to create those forces, then the logical path forward was to enlist the cooperation of the restoration’s military heroes. However reluctantly, government leaders recognized that only Saigō and Itagaki Taisuke of Tosa possessed the prestige and capability to create national military institutions that could eventually supersede domain forces.

This recognition led to what might be described as a strategy of “using poison to attack poison”—employing the very forces that threatened the government to instead strengthen it. In 1871, the government would establish the Imperial Guard, drawing primarily from Satsuma, Chōshū, and Tosa forces. This unit would provide the military backing for the abolition of the domains themselves in July 1871, creating the centralized state that the Shūgi-in had rejected just a year earlier.

The resolution demonstrated the complex interplay between institutional innovation and personal authority in the early Meiji period. Formal institutions like the Shūgi-in provided venues for discussion but ultimately lacked decisive power. Real change came through negotiated arrangements among powerful figures who commanded military force and personal loyalty.

Legacy and Historical Significance

The struggle over military funding in 1870 represented a critical turning point in Japan’s political development. It demonstrated the limitations of the initial Meiji settlement, which had replaced shogunal rule with imperial government without fundamentally altering the balance between central and regional power. The confrontation between the government and the domains, mediated through the Shūgi-in, forced a recognition that more radical centralization would be necessary.

This episode also revealed the complex relationship between political deliberation and military power in the formation of the modern Japanese state. The creation of deliberative institutions represented an important innovation, but these institutions remained subordinate to military realities. True political authority derived not from democratic legitimacy but from control of coercive force—a lesson that would shape Japan’s political development for decades to come.

The resolution of this crisis through the co-option of domain military leaders established a pattern that would characterize much of Meiji political history. The government repeatedly turned to figures from Satsuma and Chōshū to implement policies that ultimately reduced regional autonomy, creating what critics would call “domain clique” rule. This approach produced effective governance but planted the seeds for future conflicts over military authority and civil control.

Finally, the events of 1870 illustrate the complex transition from personal to institutional authority in modern political systems. The early Meiji government operated through a mixture of formal institutions and informal networks, with personal relationships often determining political outcomes. Only gradually would institutional authority come to predominate over personal connections—a process that remains incomplete even in many modern political systems.

The story of the samurai and the assembly thus represents more than a historical curiosity. It offers insights into the universal challenges of political centralization, military reform, and institutional development that continue to resonate in nations undergoing rapid political transformation today. The solutions crafted by Meiji leaders—imperfect and contingent as they were—would shape Japan’s trajectory toward becoming a modern nation-state with all its achievements and contradictions.