Shingoro Takaishi

2019/02/26

Image: Takaishi during his days as a Keio student (From "Takaishi-san," edited by the Shingoro Takaishi Biography Publication Committee)

An audio tape is preserved at the Sapporo Olympic Museum.

My friends, please forgive me for interrupting you at this time…

This message, lasting just over two minutes and featuring Takaishi's voice starting modestly like this, was played with special permission at the IOC Session in Rome in April 1966. Sapporo, which was bidding for the 1972 Winter Olympics, was reported to be in an unfavorable position. Takaishi, an IOC member, first declined to attend in person due to illness. He then spoke about Sapporo's history and pioneer spirit, how the Sapporo Winter Olympics had vanished along with the 1940 Tokyo Olympics, and the success of the 1964 Tokyo Games, quietly appealing for Sapporo to be granted an equal honor. When the audio ended, the venue was filled with applause. A representative from New Zealand proposed a telegram of well-wishes to Takaishi, to which then-President Brundage responded, "The best get-well gift for Takaishi is the Sapporo Games." It is said that the tide then turned in favor of Sapporo.

When he spoke in support of holding the Tokyo Olympics at the 1958 IOC Session, he remarked, "I am old, but I will not die until the Tokyo Games are realized." A Danish representative jokingly replied, "To keep Takaishi from dying, we should oppose holding the Tokyo Games," which drew a roar of laughter and became a legendary moment. Where did this behavior, so un-Japanese that Brundage nicknamed him "young man," come from?

Shingoro Takaishi was born on September 22, 1878, in Tsurumai-machi, Ichihara-gun, Chiba Prefecture (now Ichihara City). The Takaishi family were kimono merchants, but at the recommendation of his brother in Tokyo, he entered Keio University in May 1893, proceeded to the Law Department of the college, and graduated in March 1901.

During his time at the school, he would go to watch Fukuzawa's daily routine of "rice pounding" for physical exercise or go to hear his public speaking, but he did not get more deeply involved than that. However, when a classmate was expelled for taking dance lessons, Takaishi went to negotiate directly with Fukuzawa to have the expulsion rescinded. He later repeatedly spoke of the meticulous and kind figure of Fukuzawa, who allowed the student to return to school peacefully while saving the face of the President at the time.

During his student days, he served as the editor-in-chief of a literary magazine, participated in various sports, and lived a flashy life as a Keio student. It is said that the entrance of his boarding house was lined with red-strapped clogs belonging to women from the Shibaura area, and Imperial University students would crowd around asking him to "teach them the secrets" of how to have fun. On one occasion, Fukuzawa wrote Takaishi's name on a copy of "One Hundred Discourses of Fukuzawa" and gave it to him. In his later years, Takaishi boasted that he "still hasn't solved the mystery" of why Fukuzawa knew his name, but he must have been an extraordinary Keio student. Shinzo Koizumi, who was a Keio Futsubu School student at the time, reportedly said that Takaishi's presence "caught even a child's eye."

As he himself said, "I entered the newspaper company through a back door, or a side wicket—an irregular entrance," Takaishi's entry into the Osaka Mainichi Shimbun (now the Mainichi Shimbun; hereafter, Daimai) was unusual. During his graduation exams, he was approached by Vice Principal Ikunosuke Kadono and became a private secretary helping Daimai President Hidetaro Komatsubara write editorials.

When one thinks of Keio University and newspapers, the Jiji Shinpo founded by Fukuzawa leaves a strong impression, but Daimai also had deep ties. The first president, Osamu Watanabe, and the second, Kiichiro Takagi, were both Keio University alumni. Following Takashi Hara, the fourth president, Komatsubara, was also a Keio University alumni (he was a man of a slightly different character who entered government service, but he had a history of arrest for radical democratic ideas and maintained ties with the Juku during his presidency, which is likely why he asked Kadono). Incidentally, the fifth president who succeeded him was Motoichi Motoyama, who was also a Keio University alumni.

Komatsubara responded to Takaishi's demand for an exorbitant monthly salary of 50 yen at their first meeting with an exceptional 40 yen. After having him help while living at the president's house for three months from April 1901, he formally enrolled him as an employee with the same salary. Thus, he was assigned to the Foreign Correspondence Department, but feeling a lack of English proficiency while interviewing foreigners, he applied to President Komatsubara for permission to study abroad. Komatsubara replied that while he could not provide tuition, he could continue to pay his salary. Takaishi scrambled to raise the remaining funds. Hearing that the Mitsui family would provide money without any conditions, he "received" 3,000 yen and arrived in London in December of the year after he joined the company. It is said that Shogoro Hatano (a Keio University alumni), a managing director of Mitsui Bank whom he had met, was among those who helped with the assistance.

In London, he had no obligation to send articles and lived in a boarding house as a mere poor student. He began studying English from a "temple school" level, and a year later, he was reportedly attending Webb's lectures as an auditing student at the London School of Economics.

In February 1904, with the outbreak of the Russo-Japanese War, he joined the London Daily Express as a part-time employee, getting a job checking proper nouns in telegrams from Japan. This was mediated by the Japanese Minister Tadasu Hayashi, who was related to Yukichi Fukuzawa and took care of him. Around this time, he also decided to work hard on his German studies, which would lead to his next opportunity.

In August 1905, a telegram suddenly arrived from the head office in Osaka ordering him to leave London and enter Russia before the Russo-Japanese peace settlement was concluded, along with a telegraphic transfer of 10,000 yen for funds. When he consulted Minister Hayashi, he was warned, "Go if you have two lives," but the Minister introduced him to the Minister in Berlin, and he waited in Germany for an opportunity to enter. Soon the peace settlement was reached, but a major railway strike broke out in Russia, making entry impossible. This gave him a reprieve to receive four months of intensive Russian language training from the Russian wife of a Japanese legation official who was also waiting. He was a man blessed with luck and money at every turn.

In December of the same year, he became the first to enter Russia, arriving in Saint Petersburg ahead of the Japanese legation staff who were preparing to reopen. While boarding at the home of the widow of a Russian naval officer who died in the Battle of Tsushima, he "concocted" political articles as the only Japanese reporter by adding local reporting to information from London newspapers. He disparaged himself as having been an "underground" correspondent, as the situation did not allow for raw reporting. Nevertheless, he enjoyed his seven months of local life, feeling the presence of a "great power" through soldiers who spoke cheerfully of their life as prisoners in Japan. He even ventured to interview Tolstoy for a story to bring home. When he returned to London in August 1906, a notice had arrived increasing his monthly salary from 40 yen to 130 yen.

Takaishi's heroic tales continued. In June of the following year, he went on assignment to the International Peace Conference in The Hague. The content was low-key, and Takaishi was again the only Japanese reporter on site, but it was here that the so-called Hague Secret Envoy Incident occurred. Korea, which had been deprived of its diplomatic rights by Japan through the Second Japan-Korea Convention, dispatched secret envoys carrying a personal letter from the Korean Emperor asserting its invalidity, plotting to recover diplomatic rights at the conference. Takaishi caught wind of their existence and discovered the envoys in question. He was the only Japanese person to succeed in meeting them and telegraphed the news to Japan. As Takaishi himself said, this became "the catalyst for the international tragedy of the annexation of Korea."

In this way, as a fledgling reporter, Takaishi was able to operate across Europe without any prior foundation, gaining the courage to interact with world leaders and a perspective to view Japan from a global scale. He returned to Japan in May 1909, after seven years away. Even then, he had exhausted his 1,000 yen return travel allowance before leaving and had to have it resent. How free he was.

Takaishi soon became the head of the Foreign News Department. In collaboration with his close friend Shintaro Okumura (a Keio University alumni and biological son of the Nakatsu Domain lord Masayori Okudaira), who was the head of the Domestic Correspondence Department, he scrambled to enhance the paper's content and expand its business. Above all, Takaishi's achievement was raising the reputation of Daimai through international news.

He also took command on the front lines at the Paris Peace Conference in 1918. At this time, frustrated that telegrams from the plenipotentiary delegation were prioritized while newspaper telegrams took over two weeks, he developed a communication route via Sydney. He outmaneuvered not only other companies but even the communications of the plenipotentiary delegation.

Takaishi rose rapidly, becoming Editor-in-Chief in 1922 at the age of 44, followed by Managing Editor and Executive Director.

However, in March 1928, Takaishi finally stumbled. Having incurred the displeasure of President Motoyama, he was removed from editorial duties and ordered to travel through Europe and America. Excessive golf is cited as one reason. But in his typical fashion, Takaishi did not stay down; he watched the Amsterdam Olympics and then drew attention by publishing articles about his meetings with the Pope, Italian Prime Minister Mussolini, and Clemenceau.

When President Motoyama died in 1932, internal strife known as the "Kido Incident" occurred, causing temporary chaos within the company. Ultimately, in December 1936, Okumura became President and Takaishi became Editor-in-Chief of equal rank (Chairman in 1938). The position of Daimai, which had been fiercely chasing the leading Osaka Asahi Shimbun, had become unshakable.

In 1937, at the request of Prime Minister Fumimaro Konoe, he traveled to the United States as a "National Envoy" to gain American understanding of the Sino-Japanese War. Crossing the American continent three times, he explained Japan's position through lectures and media reports, interacting on equal terms with giants of the American newspaper world and Hu Shih, the Republic of China's envoy to the U.S. It goes without saying that he spent lavishly, holding cocktail parties in various locations.

Thereafter, he entered the era of war, taking responsibility for speech without freedom and witnessing the final outcome. With the defeat in 1945, Okumura resigned, followed by Takaishi, who then left the public stage due to the purge of public officials.

After the purge was lifted, his main field of activity was sports, particularly work related to the Olympics. The anecdote of the Sapporo bid cited at the beginning is easily understood when one knows Takaishi's career as a renowned international reporter.

In 1965, he caught a cold while golfing which developed into pneumonia. On February 25, 1967, he finally passed away at the age of 88.

Yoshitsugu Shikakura (Executive Director of Daimai, later President of TBS), who knew him well, spoke with affection: "There is no one as happy as he was. He believed that all things in nature—the shining sun, the falling rain, the blowing wind—existed solely to make him happy. It's an incredibly audacious story." Yoshimi Uchikawa, famous for media studies, described him as: "It might be a bit of an exaggeration to say that if you put a suit on the word 'dandy,' it would become Mr. Takaishi, but he was that much of a refined gentleman with not a hint of affectation." The memorial volume compiled to mourn his death is titled "Takaishi-san."