[Special Feature: Keio Year 4—150 Years Since the Naming of the Gijuku] Keio Year 4 as Sung in the Juku-ka

2018/05/01

This year marks the 150th anniversary of the Meiji era, and interest in the first year of Meiji is growing. The year 1868, the first year of Meiji, was also the important Keio Year 4 in the history of Keio University, and two episodes from that year are sung in the first and second verses of the Juku-ka.

In 1926 (Taisho 15), a proposal was made to create a new Juku-ka to replace the old one that began with "Ten ni afururu bunmei no." Since then, prize competitions for Keio students and requests to Hiroshi Yosano and Shinobu Orikuchi were made, but none resulted in satisfactory lyrics. Therefore, in 1936 (Showa 11), Masafumi Tomita was newly commissioned, partly due to the trust of Shinzo Koizumi, who had served as President since 1933 (Showa 8). Tomita had been engaged in the compilation of the four-volume "Biography of Yukichi Fukuzawa" (1932) and the seven-volume "Continued Collected Works of Fukuzawa" (1933–34) under Motoaki Ishikawa. Upon completion, he became a staff member of the Gijuku and served as the editor of the Mita-hyoron.

The lyrics of the Juku-ka were completed in the autumn of 1940 (Showa 15) and were performed by the Wagner Society at the Yukichi Fukuzawa Birthday Commemoration on January 10 of the following year. Additionally, the lyrics were included in the February issue of the Mita-hyoron, accompanied by a brief explanation by Tomita titled "Regarding the Juku-ka." Based on this, I have researched the two historical anecdotes Tomita had in mind when writing the lyrics, and I would like to introduce them.

Behold

Our flag ringing in the wind

As the new tide surges at dawn

Fluttering in the midst of the storm

A loud guardian of culture

With the pride of having stood firm

Let us raise it, this flag

Strongly and bravely let us raise it

Ah, our Gijuku

Keio, Keio, Keio

In Keio Year 4, the country was in chaos due to the momentum of the Sonno Joi movement and the Boshin War. Even as academic schools, both public and private, were closed and scholars were going into hiding, Keio University continued its daily classes. It is famous that on May 15, the day of the Battle of Ueno fought by the Shogitai, Yukichi Fukuzawa lectured on Wayland's book on economics while listening to the sound of cannon fire. In his explanation of the first verse, Tomita wrote that at that time, "The only one that maintained the lifeblood of our country's learning and protected the banner of Japanese civilization was indeed our Keio University," and that "The fact that Yukichi Fukuzawa encouraged and inspired the 18 young students remaining in the Juku at that time, saying that as long as this Juku exists, Japan's literary fortune has not yet fallen to the ground and that they should strive, is a story to be proud of in the history of our country's academic education." The episode of Yukichi Fukuzawa's encouragement was later recounted by Fukuzawa himself in his autobiography, "The Autobiography of Fukuzawa Yukichi," under the heading "Keio University Alone in All of Japan."

"Looking back at society, the Tokugawa schools had naturally collapsed, and even their teachers' whereabouts were unknown. Much less was the Restoration government in a position to worry about schools. In all of Japan, the only place where people were actually reading books was Keio University, and at that time, I spoke to those in the Juku.

"'Long ago, during the Napoleonic Wars, the fate of the Netherlands was severed, and not only the homeland but even the Indies were all taken away, leaving no place to raise the national flag. However, one single spot in the world remained. That was Dejima in Nagasaki, Japan. Dejima had been a residence for the Dutch for years, and the influence of the European wars did not reach Japan. The Dutch still boast that the flag of Dejima always fluttered at the top of a hundred-foot pole, and the Kingdom of the Netherlands never perished. Looking at it this way, for Western learning in Japan, this Keio University is like the Dutch Dejima; no matter what turmoil or upheaval occurs in the world, the lifeblood of Western learning has never been extinguished. Keio University has never closed for a single day. As long as this Juku exists, Great Japan is a civilized nation of the world. Do not worry about the state of society,' I said, encouraging the many young men."

In other words, the "flag" in "Behold our flag ringing in the wind" does not simply refer to the Blue-Red-Blue Keio School Flag, but is sung with the spirit of that time described in the autobiography superimposed upon it.

Incidentally, this event took place at the Juku in Shinsenza, Shiba. It was just after the relocation from Teppozu, Tsukiji.

Ten years earlier, in 1858 (Ansei 5), when Yukichi Fukuzawa was summoned from the Tekijuku in Osaka by order of his domain and opened a Dutch studies school in the Nakatsu Domain middle residence in Teppozu, Tsukiji, he had a temporary feeling that it would only be for "three or four years." However, as he became familiar with the situation in the West, he came to strongly recognize the importance of education based on Western learning for Japan's civilization and independence. Gradually, it began to take shape as a Juku.

Under such circumstances, the Teppozu area was designated as a foreign settlement, and they were forced to move. It was on December 25, Keio Year 3—the day the Satsuma Domain residence was burned down—that land of about 400 tsubo was purchased in Shinsenza, Shiba. The school building was constructed and the relocation completed in April, Keio Year 4. In the midst of the Edo riots, while being viewed as eccentric by those around him, he proceeded with the relocation of the Juku alone and composedly.

When the relocation was completed, he wrote the Keio Gijuku no Ki (Notes on Keio Gijuku), which could be called the naming document and declaration of independence for Keio University. There, too, he detailed the lineage of Western learning and showed a strong sense of mission as one who would carry on that lineage. This is also an important background to the lyrics of the first verse.

Yukichi Fukuzawa cherished the anecdote of protecting the lifeblood of Western learning, also sung in the first verse of the Juku-ka, throughout his life and emphasized it at every milestone of Keio University. The same is true of his final speech, in which he spoke of "The Mission of Keio University," famous for the words "source of honorable character" and "a paragon of intellect and morals for the entire nation." In it, he spoke as follows:

"In a world of darkness on all sides, lighting the torch of civilization alone to show the direction, and moving forward despite a hundred hardships. Before and after the military disturbances, not to mention the Western schools of the old Shogunate, other private schools also quickly vanished without a trace, and the educational affairs of the new government were not easily established. If one speaks of Western learning, there was only one place in all of Japan: Keio University, namely the Shinsenza Juku in Tokyo."

He then introduced the aforementioned episode of the Dutch flag in Dejima, Nagasaki, and concluded as follows:

"Let comrades tell these stories and say that our Keio University is no different from Dejima, where the Dutch flag flew, and is the one that maintains the academic lifeblood of Japan."

Go forth

On this boundless path

Though the end be ever so far

The torch held in our hands

With the clear light of wisdom

Correctly illuminates the way

Let us go forth on this path

Far and distantly let us go forth

Ah, our Gijuku

Keio, Keio, Keio

The opening part comes from the phrase "Iyuu kiwamete iyuu tooshi" (The more one pursues it, the further it becomes), which Yukichi Fukuzawa often wrote in calligraphy. Also, the part "The torch held in our hands" corresponds to the line in the aforementioned speech on "The Mission of Keio University": "In a world of darkness on all sides, lighting the torch of civilization alone to show the direction, and moving forward despite a hundred hardships."

In other words, it sings that although the path of learning is ever more distant the more one pursues it, the direction to be taken will continue to be shown without error, no matter how dark the era, and that we should walk composedly toward that goal.

So, what is that path to be taken? What Tomita had in mind was the anecdote of Jinzaburo Obata. Tomita wrote, "The spirit of dedicated study unto death for the service of the country, which the Keio Gijuku Shachu has held firmly and unwaveringly since the founding of the Juku, points the way clearly across the wilderness of arts and sciences that we are opening up. The second verse carries this meaning." We must be careful not to misunderstand the meaning of the words "service to the country unto death" based on the circumstances of that time. When Tomita wrote of the "spirit of dedicated study unto death for the service of the country," he was always telling the story of Jinzaburo, and it comes from the words Yukichi Fukuzawa used when telling that story.

Jinzaburo Obata was the younger brother of Tokujiro, who later became a close associate of Fukuzawa. In the early days of the Gijuku, he was not only excellent in practical matters and played a major role in the relocation from Shinsenza to Mita, but also contributed greatly to reforming the customs within Keio, which until then had been disorganized and undisciplined. His talent was highly anticipated, and he went to study in the United States in 1871, but he died in a hospital in Philadelphia in January 1873. He was a person whose death Yukichi Fukuzawa continued to lament and regret throughout his life.

What was this anecdote of Jinzaburo? I would like to look at it through "The Spirit of a Deceased Member's Words Still Remains," which Yukichi Fukuzawa wrote in the Jiji Shinpo. I will introduce its meaning in modern language.

In the midst of the Boshin War, when the imperial army was attacking from the west and the city of Edo was about to be engulfed in war the next day, the citizens of Edo were in a great panic trying to ensure their own safety. Among Western scholars, some fled to the foreign settlement in Yokohama, believing that the imperial army would surely not want to cause trouble with foreigners, and some even temporarily entered Western registries. Others who had connections tried to obtain certificates stating they were employees of foreign legations to help protect themselves. Someone even kindly offered to arrange an employment certificate from the American legation for the Juku.

At that time, Jinzaburo ran out into the hall and spoke to everyone as follows. That is, even if the Eastern and Western armies were fighting, it was ultimately a domestic war and a civil strife within Japan. Although we are engaged in learning and have nothing to do with this war, we must not forget the distinction between domestic and foreign. The purpose for which we founded this Gijuku together and studied hard is to achieve individual independence and to extend that principle to the entire nation of Japan. To forget this great cause and seek to escape under the protection of foreigners is to mistake our purpose and to sever the lifeblood of our Gijuku.

The expression on Jinzaburo's face as he spoke was said to be such that "He said that such seals should be thrown into the fire immediately, his tone of voice was awe-inspiring, as if he had made a firm resolution. Those who heard him were struck with awe and did not utter another word." Due to Jinzaburo's resolute attitude, the people of the Juku not only declined the offer but also regained their composure and devoted themselves to their studies. It is said that the spirit of the Keio Gijuku Shachu became even more certain and never wavered thereafter.

Yukichi Fukuzawa spoke in this way and wrote, "Service to the country unto death is the spirit of our Shachu." In his later years, in the Foreword to the Collected Works of Fukuzawa, where he looked back on his own writing activities, he specifically introduced this anecdote before explaining his works, writing, "The words of Jinzaburo Obata are a model for civilized and independent men, and they are passed down forever within the Juku, with no one forgetting them."

In "The Life of Yukichi Fukuzawa," written around the same time as the Juku-ka, Tomita mentions this anecdote of Jinzaburo and continues, "Let us glimpse the teacher's state of mind at that time by quoting the following passage from his autobiography."

"My feelings at that time were truly lonely, and I have never spoken of it to anyone, but I will now confess and repent. Seeing the reckless state of affairs around the time of the Restoration, I felt that the independence of the country would be difficult in this state. One day in the future, we might suffer some insult from foreigners; yet, looking north, south, east, and west across the country today, there is no one to talk to."

"However, I am Japanese; I cannot remain idle. Regardless of politics, I will leave that to its course, and I will teach the Western learning I have slightly mastered to younger students, and strive to translate and write books as long as my patience lasts, in the hope that by some stroke of luck I might lead these people to civilization. Thus, I took a stand alone with little support."

Considering that the anecdote of Obata occurred in such a situation, the "spirit of dedicated study unto death for the service of the country" can be thought of as the resolve to persistently pursue the learning one believes to be important for the true future of this country, without catering to the trends of the times or behaving in a way that loses the pride of independence. It can also be said to connect to the "spirit of independence" in Gakumon no susume, which states, "When the individual is independent, the nation is independent," and "Those who lack the spirit of independence do not have deep concern for their country."

The third verse of the Juku-ka sings "Shunju fukame yuruginaki," meaning that even as the years pass, the spirit of the Gijuku does not waver in the slightest. But what kind of era was 1940 (Showa 15), when the Juku-ka was created?

At that time, Keio University was being subjected to various false accusations by the military and its associates as the school of Yukichi Fukuzawa, who introduced Western civilization, and as a school of liberalism. Washichi Konno, a staff member of the Gijuku, wrote of that time, "From somewhere, attacks on Fukuzawa and theories for the eradication of Fukuzawa's thought were powerfully disseminated. It was not in newspapers or magazines, but rumors bred rumors, and for graduates of Keio University, it was something they could not help but worry about... it was a situation where they felt an impact even on their daily lives."

Although the Gijuku was placed in such a difficult position, it did not lose its resolute stance. For example, when the Thought Bureau of the Ministry of Education demanded the punishment of teachers for ideological reasons, President Koizumi stubbornly refused the Ministry's demands until the end. Tomita was in charge of the negotiations with the Ministry of Education and later recalled, "(Koizumi) Sensei was truly strong at such times. He often said things like, 'I won't let some official from the Ministry of Education tell me what to do.'" Furthermore, because he continued to keep the library open even to professors who had been driven out of other universities due to thought problems, plainclothes police officers would sometimes hide behind the ancient cedar trees next to the library to monitor the situation.

Knowing the meaning of the lyrics and further understanding the atmosphere of the era, the Juku-ka feels like a song that hides a spirit of resistance at its core. When the social conditions of Keio Year 4 described in the explanations of the first and second verses are reread by replacing them with the wartime situation, one cannot help but feel a deep sense of emotion at that courage.

However, the Juku-ka does not loudly shout a spirit of resistance; combined with Kiyoshi Nobutoki's composition, it remains aloof from the trends of the times, and its characteristic is that it never trivializes itself into mere resistance to the circumstances of the moment. It is truly "Far and distantly let us go forth" and "High and newly let us live." This is likely because the two anecdotes from Keio Year 4 sung in the Juku-ka were things that Tomita consistently valued even in the peaceful eras before and after the war, and because Tomita worked on the lyrics with the awareness that they would be sung for a long time in the future.

Furthermore, the Juku-ka was born only because of Shinzo Koizumi's resolute stance and trust in Tomita, Tomita's accumulation of sincere and precise research on Yukichi Fukuzawa, and the Keio University-style writing style polished within that research. In a postscript written when Koizumi presented Tomita with a letter from Yukichi Fukuzawa addressed to his father Nobukichi Koizumi in gratitude for Tomita's daily hard work, Koizumi wrote:

"Mr. Tomita previously assisted Mr. Motoaki Ishikawa in writing the biography of Yukichi Fukuzawa, and later entered the Keio Gijuku Secretariat to take charge of the Gijuku's writing. Within the plain and clear characters of his writing, there is a fierce spirit that moves people; this can be said to be what our group of writers has most valued since the time of Yukichi Fukuzawa."

In his explanation of the third verse, Tomita wrote, "Our hearts, which protect this stronghold of learning that has established an unwavering foundation, are filled with boundless pride, but those who hold this pride must also bear the responsibilities that correspond to it." On the occasion of the 150th anniversary of the naming of Keio University, I would like to reflect once again on the meaning of the fact that two anecdotes from Keio Year 4 are sung in the Juku-ka, and that it was created aloof from the trends of the times, without catering to them, during a difficult era when Yukichi Fukuzawa and the Gijuku were being falsely accused as traitors. When singing with these thoughts in mind, the passage in the third verse, "The glory of the emblem on my brow as I hold my pen, let it be spread throughout the world," feels with a weight different from before.

*Affiliations and titles are those at the time of publication.