By now (Wednesday), most readers will be familiar with events that occurred on the weekend vis-à-vis the strategic situation in the East China Sea and the decision by the Chinese government to unilaterally announce the creation of an ADIZ (Air Defence Identification Zone) over the East China Sea, specifically over an area an encompasses the Senkaku Islands and Ieodo Island, which has historically been claimed by South Korea. The Chinese Ministry of Defence issued a statement on Saturday claiming that the unilateral decision had been made in order to exercise China’s right to self defence, and that the measure was ‘not aimed at any specific country or target’ (this clearly echoes a statement made by the US, Japan and Australia during APEC talks  in October, which warned against any unilateral actions by any single country in the region).

As this excellent analysis by CSIS shows, the US and Japan very quickly dismissed the Chinese announcement, stating that their respective forces would not abide by the Chinese demands for identification. As if to prove this point, on Tuesday afternoon the US had two B-52 bomber aircraft fly from Guam and enter the disputed airspace. Despite the fact that B-52s show up very easily on radar (and were not accompanied by any fighter aircraft), Beijing did not respond, and the aircraft left the airspace uncontested. Clearly the US decided that it would test the veracity of Beijing’s claim to an ADIZ and how willing it is to enforce that claim. As to why China did not respond, there could be a myriad of reasons, not least of which may be the fact that China did not count on the US reacting so soon to its announcement. As China appears to have had Japan in mind when it made the announcement, the appearance of US assets in the ADIZ may have given China pause for thought, and a decision was made not to challenge the B-52s (as this may have led to another Hainan Island-style incident).

As Sydney Freedberg pointed out on breakingdefence.com, this move by China appears to have primarily been the work of the PLA, which has been particularly vocal in its promotion of China’s sovereignty rights. Indeed, it was the Chinese Ministry of Defence that announced the creation of the ADIZ and not the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which has been fairly reticent on the issue and has only released to official notices concerning the ADIZ.  

The role of the PLA in aggressively pursuing territorial rights for China has been a subject on this blog in the past, and may have been one reason why China was initially slow in its reaction to Typhoon Haiyan and the offer of assistance to the Philippines. This reluctance was definitely noticed by other Southeast Asian nations, who would regard the unilateral move by China on the weekend with a similar, if not the same degree of concern that Japan has. After all, if China is willing to do this in the East China Sea, it may do the same in the South China Sea (although given China’s attempts to forge better relations with ASEAN, this may only be a measure aimed at Japan and to a lesser extent South Korea).

Hugh White, writing in the SMH on Tuesday, said that this move by China was calculated to test US resolve and its willingness to defend its alliance with Japan. China, according to White, knew exactly what it was doing when it made the announcement, judging that it would serve as a test of whether the US still wished to claim primacy over Asia. Given the degree of opaqueness regarding decision making within the Chinese Politburo, this is at best an educated guess. What the move does suggest is that diplomacy wasn’t a factor in the decision to impose the ADIZ, for in doing so China managed to upset South Korea, a country which had, until recently, been willing to discuss trade and defence with. Moreover, next week US Vice President Joe Biden will be paying a visit to Northeast Asia, thereby giving him ample time to reassure Japan and South Korea of the US commitment to both countries, and send a message to China that acting unilaterally only damages China’s standing in the region.

China must have been aware of Biden’s impending visit, so the timing of the announcement on the ADIZ was either; a) deliberately made to  test US resolve before Biden’s visit or b) was made without Biden’s visit being taken into account. The very fact that the announcement came without any preliminary warnings meant that the decision was taken within the Politburo without reference to any outside agencies, particularly the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The announcement did nothing to further China’s diplomatic standing and ramped up the possibility of armed conflict, a situation that only the PLA would benefit from (by being seen as defending Chinese sovereign interests).

Hence now China has a number of choices to make – it can either enforce its ADIZ, redefine its ADIZ, or remove it altogether and return to the status quo. The last option is not realistic, given that any sign of backing down by China over the Senkaku Islands would be interpreted domestically as weakness against Japan. Perhaps China will see fit to impose an ADIZ but not patrol it, which would defeat the purpose of having an ADIZ but would at least provide the PLA with a piece of propaganda demonstrating its resolve on sovereignty issues.

So how should Japan react to this development? The Abe government has already made clear that it does not intend to adhere to the ADIZ requirements in any form, and indeed had Japanese domestic and international airlines announce that they too would not follow any procedures imposed by China over the disputed area. In order to gain leverage from the situation, Japan would be advised to seek cooperation from other regional members in urging China to suspend its enforcement of the ADIZ for the foreseeable future, until clear guidelines and protocols have been agreed upon (which they won’t, but at least it enables both sides to ‘save face’ without appearing to concede ground). If China does not agree to this, Japan should use this as a pretext to condemn China’s move as destabilising the region, and the UN would be an appropriate forum for this.

PM Abe could also start another round of regional visits, zigzagging from Russia to Southeast Asia to demonstrate Japan’s commitment to the rule of law as defined by international organisations and contrast this to China’s own preference for unilateral decisions. This could then promote further cooperation between countries to ensure that China cannot enforce ADIZ without severely disrupting regional air traffic, air traffic that China depends upon for its economy.

What China has done is give Japan another example of just how recklessly China makes decisions and how this has a negative impact on regional security. It will drive other regional states to forge closer ties with one another so that their sovereignty is not threatened by an expansionist China. China will be seen as unpredictable in its decision-making, imposing regulations without recourse to diplomatic channels and therefore unsuitable as a strategic partner. If this is what the PLA had in mind by making the announcement on Saturday, then it appears to have inflicted another blow on China’s diplomatic relations.  This can only lead to positive developments in Japan’s diplomatic initiatives.

In a week in which Australia and Indonesia became embroiled in a dispute over revelations that Australia has been conducting signals espionage against President Yudhoyono and other members of the Indonesian government, debate continued within the Japanese Diet on the content of the ‘Secrets Protection Bill’, part of the process necessary for the creation of a Japanese NSC. On Tuesday, both the LDP and New Komeito Coalition reached agreement with the Everyone’s Party on the details of the bill, particularly those conditions dealing with the authority of the prime minister to designate certain government information as secret. On the 20th, the House of Representatives Special National Security Committee reached agreement on the bill, however on the 21st the DPJ made it known that they would oppose the bill in its current form, demanding that a third party organisation should be permitted to examine the reasoning behind restricting any information beyond the 30 year time limit on official secrets. The DPJ also demanded that an explanation be given into how the ‘Secrets Protection Bill’ would contribute to strengthening the nation’s security (J).

The Yomiuri Shimbun made its displeasure at this state of affairs clear in a short piece on Friday, saying that a delay in the passage of the bill (which was originally intended to pass the House of Representatives on the 22nd and the House of Councillors on the 25th) would have a negative effect on other legislation before the House, delaying the introduction of such legislation during the 53 days available to the current temporary Diet session (J).  That would come as a surprise to the Reformation Party, which approved of the bill in its current form on the 22nd but objected to the prospect of the LDP/New Komeito Coalition trying to rush the legislation through on the 26th (which is the earliest date upon which the bill could receive the Lower House’s approval) (J).

Domestic angst at the implications of the bill have been growing over the week as well, with demonstrations held throughout Japan on the 21st voicing concern over whether the bill violates the citizenry’s right to freedom of expression and limits freedom of the press (J). The Asahi Shimbun carried out a survey of attitudes towards the bill, with most respondents saying that they were concerned that anything and everything could be designated as secret, and that there needed to be a system of public access to information in place before introducing a bill to restrict such access (J). With most conservative parties in the Lower House in favour of the bill (with slight modifications related to the scope of information targeted by the bill), it is certainly likely to pass through the House of Representatives by early next week, with the Senate following shortly thereafter.

With this issue fermenting away under the surface, I wanted to turn my attention to something completely different for the remainder of this post. As may be known to some readers, on Thursday of this week the Asia Baseball Championship Series was decided in Taiwan with the Canberra Cavalry emerging as victors with a 14-4 win over the Uni President Lions of Taipei. While this might not appear to be significant news for anyone outside of either Canberra or Australia, for those who reside in Canberra (like myself), this has been, as they say in the vernacular, a ‘massive deal’.

For example, it is often thought and is quite accurate to say that baseball has yet to grip the national imagination of Australia as it has the nations of East Asia. By having to compete against a range of ball sports including tennis, golf, cricket, and hockey (among others), baseball has always struggled to be recognised in Australia as a sport in which Australia excels and could build a successful future from.  Past national champions in Australia (who play for the Claxton Shield, the prize of the ABL) have trekked for the past decade to the Asian Series, only to be knocked out in the early rounds by much larger, much wealthier teams coming from Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan.

Only this time around, things did not work out that way.  The Cavalry team is comprised from MLB prospects who have been on season contracts in the US, minor league players, and part-timers who otherwise hold down other jobs during the off-season. For such a team to beat the pinnacle of Asia’s baseball teams gives a huge boost to domestic Australian efforts to spread the gospel on baseball, and to encourage Australians to adopt baseball as another national sport equivalent to cricket. Hell, this might happen sooner than expected if the Australian cricket team keep playing as they are at present (less said on that the better).

So, when all is said and done, a team of guys whose total budget amounts to less than $100,000 managed to beat teams whose general income runs in excess of AUS$1 million. If it’s one thing that Australians do love, it’s an underdog, or more accurately, a successful underdog. Well done Cavs.

History tragic that I am, I haven’t been able to tear myself away from Owada Tetsuo’s ‘Reading the Letters of Generals of the era of the Warring States’ that I introduced last week. In the course of my reading, I’ve come across a letter from Uesugi Kenshin addressed to his adopted son, Kichiheiji, who later became known as Uesugi Kagekatsu. It’s an interesting letter, not least of which is because it reveals the more ‘human’ side of Kenshin in contrast to the ‘god incarnate’ of legend. As with the previous letter by Tokugawa Ieyasu, I’ve included page references for those who might want to check the original text against the translation provided below. 

A letter to a youth

“I thank you over and again for the many heartfelt letters that you have sent to me. I was particularly pleased to receive the protective charm with a prayer enclosed in it. I’ve been able to secure a little more free time over here, hence if you could make your way to Kasugayama castle we could talk for a while.

(P.S) I am happy that you’ve sent me many letters. Your calligraphy has certainly improved. I will send you an example (to use for study).

13th day of the 2nd month,                                      Terutora (personal signature)

 

To Lord Kichiheiji”

Kenshin and his adopted son

The ‘Terutora’ that wrote the above letter (whose name characters were ordinarily read as 輝虎) was Uesugi Kenshin. The receiver, referred to above as Kichiheiji, was Kenshin’s adopted son, who would later be known as Kagekatsu. The letter itself was written by Kenshin while he was in camp. The addendum to the letter was included after the main content was written, and was included in the space to the right of the main content, which would have been blank. As addendums often began with the phrase “尚々(nao nao)” (meaning often), such letters are referred to as ‘Nao naosho’ .  (149)

The date on the letter merely states ‘’the 13th day of the 2nd month’’, and there is no mention of a year. By way of comparison, the editor of the ‘Historical Records of Echigo and Sado’ (越佐史料, Etsusa Shiryō), who created the collection of records of the Uesugi household that includes the above letter, did so in the 5th year of Eiroku (or 1562). We know that Kichiheiji was adopted by Kenshin as an adopted son in the 7th year of Eiroku (1564). As such, we may presume that the letter was written in Eiroku 5, when Kichiheiji had not yet become Kenshin’s son. It might now prove worthwhile to examine the relationship that Kichiheiji had with Kenshin, and how it developed over time. (149)

 Kichiheiji was born in the 1st year of Kōji (1555). He was the second son of the lord of Sakato castle, Nagao Masakage, while his mother was Kenshin’s older sister. As such, he was Kenshin’s nephew. However, on the 5th day of the 7th month of the 7th year of Eiroku, Kichiheiji’s father, Masakage, while enjoying a boating spree on Lake Nojiri in the company of the lord of Biwajima castle, Usami Sadamitsu, drowned after falling out of the boat. As a consequence, Kichiheiji was placed under the care of his uncle, Kenshin, and moved to Kasugayama. It was around this time that Kichiheiji was adopted by Kenshin. (149)

If the letter was written in Eiroku 5, then we can presume that Kenshin was engaging in correspondence with Kichiheiji before deciding to adopt him, yet what was the real situation? According to one theory, Kenshin and Nagao Masakage had an acrimonious relationship that spanned a considerable period of time. Given the fact that Masakage died under mysterious circumstances, it is possible that Kenshin, aware that Masakage might become an obstacle to his rule in the future, ordered Sadamitsu to kill Masakage. (150)

One thing that should be remembered, however, is that the above letter was presumably written in the 2nd month of the 5th year of Eiroku, when Kenshin was in the process of repairing his relationship with Masakage. It is true that Kenshin expelled his elder brother, Harukage, from Kasugayama castle in the 17th year of Tenbun (1548), an act for which he earned the ire of Masakage (considering that Masakage was the head of the Nagao family at the time). Masakage and Kenshin crossed swords with one another in Tenbun 19 and 20, and so were definitely enemies. Yet Masakage eventually called a truce and placed himself under Kenshin’s rule as a vassal. In Kōji 2 (1556), while Kenshin was journeying to Mt Hiei, Masakage, as the representative of all of Kenshin’s vassals, pleaded for Kenshin to return to Echigo province, and so was appointed to the position of ‘first scribe’. (150-151)

In the 11th month of Eiroku 5, Kenshin ordered Masakage to take up residence in Kasugayama castle while he launched an attack on the Kantō region. Masakage was accompanied by his son, Kichiheiji, together with his wife, the elder sister of Kenshin. Hence there is every possibility that Kenshin treated them very well. (151) As is commonly known, Kenshin was a firm believer in the god Bishamonten (毘沙門天). Before leaving on a campaign, Kenshin was shut himself up in a temple to Bishamonten, and there he would pray for success in battle. It is said that Kenshin did this in order to strengthen his exceptional powers, which is another reason he never lived in the company of women (among other theories). (151) Kenshin never took a wife, neither did he make use of concubines. As a consequence he didn’t have any heirs of his own.

For a general of the Sengoku era, the absence of any heirs meant that the household that he represented would cease to exist upon his death. Kenshin would certainly have given this fact some thought. It is generally believed that the first child born to the union of Kenshin’s elder sister and Masakage, Kichiheiji, became Kenshin’s favourite candidate for adoption should circumstance allow it. As Kenshin regarded Kichiheiji in this manner, he began corresponding with him from an early stage, and included in his letters words of praise for Kichiheiji’s brushwork and promises of examples of Kenshin’s own writing. (151)

In the “Records of the Uesugi Household” there are three examples of calligraphy for study; the ‘Iro Hadzukashi’, the “Uesugi Kenshin Shomei Shōsoku’, and the ‘Uesugi Ke Kachū Myōji Tsukushi’, that were written by Kenshin himself. Each of these would have been sent to Kichiheiji to assist his education. (152)

If the above letter was sent in Eiroku 5, then Kichiheiji would have been 8 years old at the time. As such, the ‘Iro Hadzukashi’ is most likely to have been the example that Kenshin sent to Kichiheiji.  The fact that Kenshin sent such writing to Kichiheiji instead of his father Masakage demonstrates that Kenshin had a fair degree of confidence in his brushwork. When one looks at Kenshin’s writing, one can tell that he learnt the Shōrenin style of calligraphy from Konoe Taneie, and that he was very good at it. (152)

In the ‘Uesugi Ke Kachū Myōji Tsukushi’, a number of the more important retainers in the Uesugi household are included towards the end of the calligraphy, those names being ‘Hōjō Aki no Kami’, ‘Hōjō Tango no Kami’, and ‘Nawa Jirō’ etc. Altogether there are 77 names, and at the very end, there is the following;

“5th year of Tenshō, 23rd day of the 12 day   Hōin Yamato Nao Kenshin”

As this was written in the 5th year of Tenshō (1577), Kichiheiji had already undergone his naming ceremony and adopted the personal name of Kagekatsu. Since Kagekatsu was a youthful general of 23, Kenshin obviously thought that it was important for him to learn the names of all of his senior retainers while also mastering his brushwork. (13)

The Otate no Ran

However, one year after handing over the ‘Uesugi Ke Kachū Myōji Tsukushi’, on the 13th day of the 3rd month of Tenshō 6, Kenshin suddenly passed away in Kasugayama castle. After his death, his two heirs became involved in an internal dispute that split the household in two, as which became known as the Otate no Ran (or the ‘War of the Household’). (154)

In addition to Kichiheiji, in the 3rd month of the 1st year of Genki (1570), Kenshin had accepted the seventh son of Hōjō Ujiyasu, Saburō, as a hostage on the occasion of his forging an alliance with Ujiyasu. Saburō was later adopted by Kenshin. When Saburō came of age, he was given the name “Kagetora”, the same name that Kenshin himself had used during his younger days. Kagetora was also one year older than Kagekatsu, and was married to Kagekatsu’s younger sister. (154)

While he was alive, Kenshin did not make an effort to designate who would succeed him upon his death. Hence after Kenshin died, the household was divided over his succession. Eventually, on the 24th day of the 3rd month of Tenshō 7 (1579), Kagetora was forced to flee to Samegao castle where he later committed suicide, thereby leaving Kagekatsu the victor.(154-155)

Upon examination of the above letter, it certainly seems that Kagekatsu was well regarded by Kenshin, and that he made every effort to gain his favour. Yet supposing the letter had originally been meant for Kagetora and that following his victory Kagekatsu erased any trace of Kagetora’s influence. The truth is that we will never know for certain. (155)

An issue that has garnered some attention abroad but considerable attention in Japan recently was the passage of bills on the 7th of November by the House of Representatives to establish a Japanese National Security Committee (NSC). Though the bills are currently under review by the House of Councillors, expectations are that they will be approved by the middle of this month and that the Council will convene in January next year (J). Meanwhile debate continues on the content of a bill to establish a Secrets Protection Act to accompany the formation of the NSC.

According to the Sankei Shimbun (many of whose articles are quoted below), the purpose of the NSC bills is to more rapidly reach a consensus on diplomatic and security issues (an important development given the response of previous cabinets to diplomatic and security events in the East Asian region). The Prime Minister, Chief Cabinet Secretary, Foreign Minister, and Defence Minister will be the main members of the “Four Ministers’ Meeting”, with a ‘National Security’ Office to be established within the Cabinet Secretary’s Office. As a result of demands from the DPJ, the Abe government has amended its NSC bills in relation to the type of information and resources each agency and ministry is obliged to contribute to the NSC.

On the 11th, PM Abe announced that the first Director General of the NSC Office will be Yachi Shōtarō, a former diplomat and one-time secretary of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. According to the Asahi Shimbun, Yachi has long functioned as the ‘brain’ behind many of PM Abe’s foreign policy decisions, and maintains a close relationship with the prime minister.  Yachi is particularly well informed about the activity of the US NSC, and has often stressed the needed for consistency across diplomatic and security policies. During the first Abe Cabinet, Yachi served as a Special Advisor to the Cabinet, and was a member of the influential ‘Roundtable Conference on Security and Defence Power’ (J).

It appears as though the post of Director General of National Security was sought after by both the Ministries of Foreign Affairs and Defence, and led to some turf wars between both. While the Director General stems from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Prime Minister’s Office requested that responsibilities for six areas deemed necessary for national security, these being ‘General’, ‘Strategy’, ‘Intelligence’, ‘Allies’, ‘China and North Korea’, and ‘Other Regions’, be distributed among those government departments responsible for security.

As such, these six areas will be broken up between the Ministry of Defence (responsible for 3 areas), the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (responsible for 2), and the National Police Agency (responsible for 1). The National Security Office will have a staff of 60, with Defence bureaucrats overseeing strategy, defence planning, and areas of higher terrorist activity such as the Middle East and Africa. Foreign Affairs bureaucrats will be responsible for maintaining links with allies and other friendly nations, while also collecting information on Chinese and North Korean military activities, among other things. The National Policy Agency will take responsibility for the handling and storage of information.

The formation of a central authority responsible for security in Japan is a novel development in Japan’s bureaucratic landscape, although it will be seen as a consequence of the increased level of tension between Japan and its neighbours, although its impetus came from discussions held during the first Abe Cabinet. The NSC will allow Japan’s leadership to receive information from relevant agencies in the one venue, rather than the practice up until now of creating a temporary office within the PM’s office to respond to diplomatic and security crises as they emerged, with a fragmented intelligence community spread among four agencies, each providing analyses that differed from one another.

As was alluded to above, the effectiveness of such a Council depends on the ability of each agency to cooperate in providing an overall security framework for Japan. Too often ministries and agencies dispute one another over their sphere of influence, each attempting to surpass the other in terms of influence over government decision making (thereby securing a greater proportion of budget funds.) While such an approach may have distinguished bureaucratic relations in the past, it will simply not do for agencies to engage in in-fighting while issues of national security are at stake.

If the passage of the NSC bills produces the intended effect – i.e., greater coordination in diplomatic and security policy, a faster response to diplomatic and security incidents, a greater awareness by the executive of the activities of Japan’s intelligence agencies and how these match the national interest – then the next step may be to strengthen Japan’s intelligence community. The creation of a Japanese version of the NSA (or perhaps more ambitiously, the CIA) would give Japan the sort of intelligence it previously had to rely on others to provide, and the proximity of Japan to China would give it an advantage in terms of infiltration of its neighbour and the collection of HUMINT and SIGINT.

Expanded intelligence collection capabilities would raise questions within Japan as to whether the state was acting in violation of the Constitution, although given that the collection of information in itself does not constitute an act of aggression, such questions would be moot so long as covert operations did not spill over into so-called ‘black ops’.  Unlike questions of collective self defence and an expanded role for the SDF, it is less likely that greater work by Japan’s intelligence agencies would provoke the same level of dissent given that such activity could be interpreted as a form of ‘defence’. The current security environment in East Asia would give credence to the need for information, specifically information related directly to Japanese interests. This may be another policy area pursued by the Abe government, although we may have to wait until the New Year to see any development to this end.

This week’s post takes as its topic a vow written by Tokugawa Ieyasu to another of the prominent generals of the Sengoku period, Uesugi Kenshin. The letter itself is detailed in the book ‘Reading the letters of generals of the era of the Warring States’ by Owada Tetsuo. I may have waxed lyrical about Professor Owada in previous posts, but I do think that his clarity of expression, and his skill of placing anecdotal evidence into his text in a manner that doesn’t interrupt its ‘flow’ is indicative of his skill as a historian.  He is the author of numerous books about Sengoku era Japan, and has been a consultant for historical dramas and documentaries on the Sengoku period. His desire to make the Sengoku period more accessible to the ‘layman’ has been well recognised in Japan itself, and so I thought I would translate just a small section of his work to introduce it to a wider audience.

Owada Tetsuo, Reading the letters of generals of the era of the Warring States (戦国武将の手紙を読む), Chuō Kōron, Tokyo, 2010

Tokugawa Ieyasu’s Vow – An appeal to Uesugi Kenshin

“I respectfully offer this vow.

Unable to hide my thoughts any longer, Gongendō, in the guise of a messenger, conveyed them to you.  As such, I believe that you fully understand my intentions.

First, I have thoroughly considered the matter of Shingen’s betrayal, and I do not believe that any of it is false rumour.

Second, in order to facilitate an alliance between Nobunaga and Kagetora, I shall directly state my opinion to Nobunaga. As for talk of the union between Kōfu and Owari, I shall make insinuations to Nobunaga in order to prevent this from occurring.

Should I betray this vow, I am prepared to submit to the punishment of Śakra -devānam-Indra above and the Four Heavenly Kings below, all of the gods of Japan both great and small. In particular, Gongen of Izu and Hakone, the Great Deity of Mishima, Hachiman Daibosatsu, and all of the gods in residence at the Great Shine of Tenman.

The 8th day of the 10th month,

                    Ieyasu (signature)

To Lord Uesugi”

A dispute over Tōtōmi

This is not your standard letter, but is a vow (or Kishōmon), written on sacred Go Ōhōin paper provided by Hakusan Gongen. It does not feature any yearly date, but was certainly written on the 8th of the 10th month of the 1st year of Genki (1570).

The title ‘Lord Uesugi’ (which uses a character variation on ‘sugi’, 椙) of course refers to Uesugi Kenshin (上杉謙信), who is also referred to as ‘Kagetora’ in the text. In short, this is a vow from Tokugawa Ieyasu to Uesugi Kenshin, created in order to attempt to forge an alliance. Ieyasu was already allied to Oda Nobunaga via the ‘Kiyosu’ pact (清須同盟), yet had decided to explore the possibility of creating an alliance with Kenshin. (126-127)

In the background to this activity lay the complicated relationship that Ieyasu had with Takeda Shingen.  Two years before this vow was written, in the 12th month of the 11th year of Eiroku (1568), Ieyasu joined with Shingen and together they launched a simultaneous attack on Imagawa Ujizane, who was caught between the two. Shingen took hold of Suruga province, while Ieyasu gained control of Tōtōmi. Consequently Ieyasu’s territory extended from Mikawa all the way to Tōtōmi.

There is no evidence that Shigen and Ieyasu were bound together in a formal alliance, and it does appear that the military steps taken at the time were simply a combined effort to destroy the Imagawa. However Shingen, at this stage, was in a formal alliance with Nobunaga, and considering that Ieyasu and Nobunaga were also allied, Shingen and Ieyasu had an alliance of sorts, just not a direct one. (127)

As Shingen and Ieyasu did not share a direct alliance, after the Imagawa were overthrown Ieyasu’s relationship with Shingen underwent a dramatic turn. The Takeda army crossed the Ōi River, which marked the border between Suruga and Tōtōmi, and invaded Tōtōmi while simultaneously launching an invasion from Shinano province after traversing the Aokuzure Pass (which marked the border between Shinano and Tōtōmi). Needless to say, Ieyasu’s mistrust of Shingen had reached its peak by this time. (127)

All of the Tokugawa records written during the Edo period state that this move by Shingen was evidence of his ill-will towards Ieyasu. In particular, they emphasise that there was a secret agreement between Shingen and Ieyasu,   known as the Sunen Bunkatsu Ryoyū (or Division of Suruga and Tōtōmi Territories). If such a secret agreement did exist, then Shingen had certainly acted with ill intent by advancing into Tōtōmi. However historical records of the Tokugawa household created during the Edo period were written with the intention of ‘deifying the ruler’, hence it is unclear whether any secret agreement did in fact exist.  It may have been no more than an agreement to invade the Imagawa’s territory from east and west. (128)

Ieyasu certainly began to feel militarily threatened by Shingen. In the 1st year of Genki (1570), so as to ensure the conquest of Tōtōmi province, Ieyasu vacated his seat of Okazaki castle in Mikawa province in order to move into a castle in Tōtōmi province. His first choice for a site for the castle was at Mitsuke (見付). This area had previously functioned as a provincial capital, and was where the Shugo of Tōtōmi province, the Imagawa family, had established their headquarters. As such, it was the centre of politics in the province. (129)

However, not long after construction on the castle began, the relationship between Ieyasu and Shingen grew steadily worse, so much so that Ieyasu abandoned attempts to found a castle at Mitsuke and instead decided to build a new castle at Hikuma, and named it Hamamatsu castle. If Ieyasu had stayed at Mitsuke, he would have had the Tenryū River running to the west of the castle. If Shingen decided to attack him there, Ieyasu would have to contend with the Tenryū River at his back which would make his position more perilous, and Ieyasu was not keen on making a ‘final stand’. (129)

By moving to Hikuma, Ieyasu could ensure that the Tenryū River flowed to the east of the castle, and that if attacked by Shingen, the river would form a natural barrier. (129)

An alliance with Kenshin

It was at this time that Ieyasu was certainly perplexed with regard to Shingen, and this in turn led to his decision to send a vow to Kenshin. Of course, Shingen and Nobunaga were still bound by an alliance, as was Ieyasu himself to Nobunaga, hence Ieyasu put a lot of thought into how he might mitigate the threat from Shingen. The answer, it seems, was to make an alliance with Shingen’s rival, Kenshin. (129)

Ieyasu began to make initial moves towards an alliance in the 12th year of Eiroku (1569). He dispatched Gongendō (Kanō Bōkōhan, a priest) as a messenger to Kenshin to sound out Kenshin’s thinking on the possibility of an alliance. In the first line of the vow, Ieyasu’s clearly states that he has been betrayed by Shingen, while in the second he declares that he will work to sever the alliance between Nobunaga and Shingen. The alliance between Kōfu (Shingen) and Owari (Nobunaga) had been forged by this time, hence it might prove useful to explain how it came about and the implications this had for Ieyasu. (129)

Nobunaga, when he believed that an opponent was stronger than him, would not fight needlessly but would seek other means to increase his influence. This was certainly the relationship he had with Shingen. In the 11th month of the 8th year of Eiroku (1565), Nobunaga married off his niece to Shingen’s fourth son Katsuyori. Unfortunately, two years later, the niece died as a result of complications encountered during childbirth. Nobunaga considered severing his alliance with Shingen at this point, however he thought better of it and instead married off his eldest son Nobutada to one of Shingen’s daughters.  This is the ‘union’ that Ieyasu refers to in his vow. As such, it shows just how well the alliance between Shingen and Nobunaga was progressing at this stage. (129)

Ieyasu makes it clear that in order to sever the union between Shingen and Nobunaga he would be prepared to insinuate rumours about Shingen. At the time, Shingen had not made any military advances against Nobunaga. This may have been because of the alliance shared between both sides, but may also have been because militarily Nobunaga was growing more powerful, and Shingen had decided that he could not simply attack Nobunaga with impunity. (129-130)

Ieyasu, on the other hand, was weak compared to Shingen and would be easier to overthrow. Shingen would have known that Nobunaga was also allied to Ieyasu, hence a decision to attack Ieyasu was a prime example of the logic of ‘survival of the fittest’. Ieyasu, as the daimyō of the provinces of Mikawa and Tōtōmi, certainly planned to continue his alliance with Nobunaga. Yet knowing full well that he could not match Shingen’s military prowess, he desperately sought an answer, and hit upon the idea of allying himself with Kenshin. (131)

At this time Ieyasu, in a letter dated on the same day as the vow, made his thoughts known to one of Kenshin’s senior retainers, Naoe Yamato no Kami Kagetsuna, in which he asked for ‘assistance’ should the time come. (131) According to the etiquette of the time, when a letter was sent from one individual to another, daimyō would communicate with other daimyō, while retainers would exchange letters with other retainers. However in this instance, Ieyasu sent letters to Kagetsuna via two of Kagetsuna’s own retainers, Sakai Tadatsugu and Ishikawa Kazumasa. This speaks volumes about the desperate straits in which Ieyasu now found himself. (132)

The Battle of Mikatagahara

Ieyasu certainly planned to keep his alliance with Kenshin a secret, however his activities caught the attention of Shingen.  In the 3rd month of the 2nd year of Genki (1571), Shingen himself led a large army into Tōtōmi ostensibly to attack Kōtenjin castle. However, rather than going ahead with this plan, Shingen captured Kakegawa castle, Kuno castle, and Inui castle, as using them as forward posts, withdrew to Iida in Shinano province. (132)

This move, which allowed Shingen to draw Ieyasu into a false sense of security, then allowed Shingen to launch a new attack against Mikawa from the direction of Inoguchi. Nobunaga, who still retained his alliance with Shingen, did not wish to unnecessarily provoke an attack by Shingen, and told Ieyasu that he thought it best that he abandon Hamamatsu castle and withdraw to Yoshida castle in Mikawa. Ieyasu, knowing that ‘any retreat from Hamamatsu would mean humiliation as a warrior’, resolved to defend Hamamatsu castle to the death. (133)

At this time, although Ieyasu was in alliance with Kenshin, there was no possibility of Kenshin being able to send reinforcements to assist Ieyasu. It was simply too far to travel from Echigo to Mikawa and Tōtōmi in time. In the end, in the 12th month of the following 3rd year of Genki (1572), Shingen and Ieyasu met on the battlefield of Mikatagahara, which ended in total defeat for Ieyasu. (133)

Did Ieyasu now realise that his alliance with Kenshin was essentially worthless? Certainly, if one looks at it as an attempt to curtail the military power of Shingen, it was meaningless. Yet if one looks at things from a slightly longer time span, particularly in regard to the growing power of Nobunaga, then there was worth in forging an alliance with Kenshin. (133)

At the time of the Battle of Mikatagahara, Nobunaga sent 3,000 troops to Ieyasu as reinforcements. This development came to the attention of Shingen, who subsequently tore up his alliance with Nobunaga. In sum, as a result of the vow that Ieyasu to Kenshin, the two aims of the vow – to break up the alliance between Shingen and Nobunaga, and the marriage between Kōfu and Owari – both became a reality, and laid the foundation of the conflict between Takeda Katsuyori and Nobunaga/Ieyasu that would occur after Shingen’s death. (133)

One further note – hereafter Nobunaga attempted to forge an alliance with Kenshin himself. In the 2nd year of Tenshō (1574), Nobunaga sent the gift of a screen depicting the ‘Capital and its Surroundings’, painted by Kanō Eitoku, to Kenshin. (133)