Gekokujo
Lessons in Elite Theory from the Interwar Japanese Insurrections

1,652 words

Interwar Imperial Japan was rife with a phenomenon known as gekokujo. Gekokujo was a form of insurrection unique to the Japanese which was sparked by the ultranationalist feelings of members, often quite young, of the Imperial officer corps. What is fascinating about these idealistic young men is their passion, not to overthrow, but to strengthen the state and the national essence, what they referred to as kokutai. There is much that we on the true right, nearly 100 years later, could learn from these soldiers fighting on the streets of Tokyo. Their partial success as a cultural entity, which lasted until the palace revolt in the last days of the Pacific War, should be studied carefully if we are to avoid their mistakes, as well as avoid making the mistake of drawing false parallels between our own cultural situation and their status in their society, a folly that many on the right are especially prone to in reference to other interwar militarist political organizations, namely the Italian Fascists and the German National Socialists, Conservative Revolutionists, and Freikorps.

The gekokujo of the 1920s and 30s were orchestrated by members of the ruling military elite in Japan, specifically of the Imperial Way Clique or Kodoha, the idealist ultranationalist segment of the military and government often composed of younger officers. They were against war with the US and in favor of spreading Japanese imperialism westward into China. Eventually a rogue of their element was successful in this, orchestrating the Mukden Incident which led to the Japanese invasion of Manchuria. This was not necessarily an operation with approval from “the top” – more of an incursion by a quasi-independent element in the Japanese Army, reminiscent of Rome’s generals such as Caesar and Crassus. While gekokujo is a forgotten factor in history, Japan’s notorious occupation of China can largely be attributed to this element of Japanese political life.

Their rivals were members of the Control Clique – essentially the official Japanese establishment. Curiously, both sides were staunchly rightist, militarist, nationalist, and in favor of expansion of the Empire for lebensraum, as the Japanese main islands had undergone unprecedented population growth in the aftermath of the Meiji Restoration and the modernization which followed. The most famous figure of this Japanese establishment faction was Hideki Tojo who would later lead Japan in the Second World War.

What these factions had in common is more pertinent to the historical uniqueness of the gekokujo than their squabbles. The Imperial Way carried out numerous assassinations on high-ranking officials and staged attempted coups against the government such as the most famous February 26 Incident of 1936. In spite of this, their punishments were often slaps on the wrist. Rebels would decry their love for Tenno Hirohito from the defendant stand and mobs of supportive civilians demonstrated in support of these young officers. Many were sentenced to life in prison, only to be pardoned days later. This is clearly reminiscent of rightist revolts in interwar Spain and Germany, where leftist de jure governments would often cower in the face of an organized counter elite in institutions such as the military and courts, supported by swathes of the masses. Men scarred from attempted assassinations fought alongside former conspirators, both motivated by their love for the Emperor and the Japanese kokutai. Many of the staunchest Imperial Way partisans were happily utilized in the war effort as high ranking officers, with notoriety as rebels having little effect on their careers. On the other hand, a reputation as a “liberal” was often more of a handicap than being a well-meaning yet nonetheless dissident ultranationalist.

Obviously, the Imperial Way Clique of Imperial Japan has ideological parallels to the modern nationalist “dissident right”, and I haven’t even gone into their populism and advocacy for the lower rungs of society within their race which was especially relevant during the famine and poverty which burdened rural Japan in the interwar years. This is because they were in the same spiritual vein of interwar movements more familiar to the West such as the Iron Guard of Romania, the Falange of Spain, the various revolutionaries of Germany, etc. While not very politically correct to admit, even in our own circles, this accusation of “Fascism” by the left against our cohort may have some grounding if we change the definition from “Fascism” to “fascism” – that is capital to lower case fascism. One is an autistically well-defined piece of jargon that includes economic corporatism and the merger of the individual and the state while the other is an aesthetic, cultural, and political “vibe” which transcends time. It would be perhaps dishonest to deny our belonging in this tradition, but that is beside the point. The main lesson that the Kodoha has to teach us is not what we should do, but rather serves as a cautionary tale in elite theory.

Unlike the Kodoha, we don’t have generals, politicians, organization, or money. With the Internet, we perhaps have a comparable advantage in communications which is no small thing, but nevertheless it is not nearly enough to win political power. Nationalists in the West can’t even protest effectively, where as Japanese ultranationalists conquered Northern China as a side project. The same factors that allowed the Imperial Way to wield power in the government and military are present in all successful movements of these sorts – namely elite backing. In this case, however, not only was there a cadre of the government highly sympathetic to their goals, but most importantly the assumptions of both sides were the same – reverence for the Emperor (Tenno), homeland (Yamato), and the national essence (kokutai). In the same way that our international occupational government has a distaste for jailing leftist rioters, foreign thugs, and environmentalist vandals, the Japanese government was quite averse to doling out serious repercussions to those who ostensibly had the same goals as they did. In their case it was national triumph, and in our own, national humiliation.

The right (or at least “conservatives”) has historically countered this by adopting precisely the same assumptions as the left (or at least the face value left) and attempting to push back from this already compromised position. This was especially so among the former-leftist neoconservatives in the US. It is for this reason that they are tolerated and why any true opposition from the right is quickly stamped out. Conservatives are truly an example of “His Majesty’s loyal opposition.” The role of “His Majesty” changes depending on time and space – in our case the two-headed eagle of liberty and equality.

Maistre’s thesis in his Generative Principle of Political Constitutions was essentially correct that the true spiritual constitution of an ethos is decided well before it is ever put into writing and any attempt to put to paper this organic constitution will result, to some extent, in bastardization. This is the great irony of the “original constitutionalist” right versus the “living constitutionalist” left. They have both bought in to the same dialectic which the powers that be wish us to engage in, and as a result Cthulu swims to the left. This is by design and within this system it is likely impossible to exit the dialectic, as this would require an exit from the assumptions which make political participation possible, which would lead to receiving the ire of the authorities, as the implication of exiting normal political participation is revolution. Of course, Enlightenment values were important in the forging of America – but there was a much different understanding of them then compared to today’s political dialectic.

For this reason, the Kodoha as well as other interwar movements are not very good comparisons for ourselves to emulate as the conditions for their political activity are wholly reversed. In fact, it is leftists who should study them to maintain and gain power while the right should put more emphasis on the left’s seizure of power through revolutions such as that of 1917 in Russia, in which the opposition truly was anti-establishment rather than working within their framework and assumptions, as well as the 1789 revolution in France.

Much of the discourse in elite theory today assumes that it is possible to infiltrate institutions controlled by the left or the GAE (Global American Empire) and by doing this it is possible to slowly gain territory and thus victory. The flaw in this reasoning is that these institutions were conquered by a slow dialectic which used, and eventually perverted, first principles. The left has this ability to corrupt the assumptions of societies by taking them to their logical conclusion, turning them into a self-parody, a caricature. The right, when not the creative force of a new society, is by its very nature reactive against this caricature. It cannot share first principles with it because the supposed first principles shared by the left and the original societal spirit have been “mistranslated,” perhaps several times, over hundreds of years.

These interwar movements, in Japan especially, illustrate what can be done when the hearts and minds of elites and proletarians alike are dedicated to a cause and untied through sophisticated organization. But that is not the right in the West today. For the most part, the only organized “right” that we have are center-right conservative parties designed to operate as pressure release valves for actual organization. Meanwhile, left-wing parties historically have had no delusions of being able to work within the system and thereby organized outside of it, creating decentralized but highly effective power structures.

Basically, we have no goals or beliefs in common with the current powers that be within the state and perhaps we should begin to act that way by emulating organizations which shared our predicament: namely the Bolsheviks, Jacobins, and other communist movements. In other words, creating parallel institutions is generally better than the infiltration strategy. Besides, since our principles are diametrically opposed to the current establishment’s principles, we want to tear them down rather than build them up.