The Butterfly's Wingbeat (2)

The Northeast Asia of the 19th century mostly understood, at least intellectually, how the world was flowing.

The only country completely out of step with the current of the times, unable to come to its senses, was that little peninsula nation somewhere over there.

Qing had been thoroughly beaten twice and had begun the Self-Strengthening Movement to learn Western technology.

Japan had suffered the ultimate humiliation of the Black Ships opening its ports at the hands of American Commodore Perry, and voices calling for reform were beginning to emerge.

But such voices were still only a minority. In reality, the cry of sonnō jōi—revere the Emperor and expel the barbarians—rang far louder.

Support the Emperor, that is, and subjugate ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Western barbarians.

From the objective ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠viewpoint of a third party, it might seem like nothing more than the death throes of outdated relics clinging desperately to pride without knowing their place.

Yet in truth, this thing called pride was an incredibly important factor.

First, the Black Ships incident that had occurred roughly ten years earlier was an unimaginable humiliation for the Japanese people.

They had spent their days praising themselves to the skies, claiming they were a nation ruled by a living god called the Emperor, only for reality to slap them with the verdict of “nine ships and you’re done.”

Not ninety ships—merely nine vessels had arrived, fired a few cannon shots, blocked the capital’s supply lines, and forced them into a humiliating treaty that essentially begged them to please just leave.

What’s more, the treaty had been concluded without even receiving the Emperor’s formal approval, causing the anti-foreign faction to lose all trust in the shogunate.

And then, just two years ago, the British envoy Rutherford had used privileges extracted from the shogunate ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to climb Mount Fuji—considered a sacred mountain—where he fired celebratory shots and guzzled champagne.

Having stacked up so much karmic debt, expecting public opinion to remain favorable would be nothing short of the mindset of a thief.

The Namamugi Incident had erupted precisely at the moment when anti-foreign sentiment was boiling across Japan.

In reality, the shogunate had been thrown into chaos by the fact that not just any Englishman but a high-ranking one had been murdered. Yet public opinion in Satsuma, the domain responsible for the incident, was the complete opposite.

“When a daimyo’s procession passes, it is only natural to kneel and prostrate oneself. Yet that wretch dared to cross in front of the daimyo. We simply killed a man who deserved to die—what exactly is the problem?”

“You idiots! Do you even realize who you killed? That was a British subject! A British subject!”

“So what if he was British? Does that give him the right to insult a daimyo?”

“Look at this! The shogunate itself treats the dignity of the daimyo like it’s worth less than dog shit!”

The Qing Empire, having been beaten to the point of nearly collapsing during two Opium Wars, understood full well the power Britain possessed.

But the powerful domains of Japan had only heard about the strength of the European great powers through words; they had never experienced it firsthand.

Besides, they had recently been secretly purchasing Western weapons through back channels. What did they have to fear?

The sonnō jōi faction instead sought to use this incident to highlight the shogunate’s incompetence and assert their own legitimacy.

After all, Emperor Kōmei in Kyoto harbored a fierce hatred of foreigners.

It was already an open secret that the Satsuma warriors were quietly claiming they had demonstrated the dignity of the imperial nation.

Given the situation, the shogunate was driven nearly mad.

“We are deeply sorry. We are so sorry. Those ignorant commoners acted without knowing anything…”

“I was told the ones who caused the incident were Satsuma warriors. Since when have warriors become ignorant refugees? Moreover, not only was a citizen of our country brutally killed, but our legation was attacked as well.”

“……”

“We have already sent a report to our home government requesting action. Word should arrive shortly. We will accept the shogunate’s apology, but it cannot end with mere words. Clear compensation must follow.”

“We will of course provide whatever compensation we are capable of offering, but those Satsuma fellows simply refuse to listen to us.”

“That is your problem, not ours.”

The shogunate had rushed to the Yokohama treaty port as if on wings of lightning, slammed their heads to the ground with all their might, and begged.

They offered compensation if compensation was wanted, new treaties if new treaties were wanted—anything and everything to show sincerity. Yet Britain’s stance remained uncompromising.

“Separate from the shogunate, Satsuma must pay reparations, offer a sincere apology, and punish those responsible.”

“N-no… we have spoken with them repeatedly, but they remain completely silent.”

“So are we to understand that the shogunate is shielding Satsuma? We shall report to our government that—”

“No, no, that’s not it at all! Those Satsuma bastards don’t even listen to their own parents, let alone the shogunate!”

No matter how much they cried out about how unfair it was, Britain had not the slightest intention of listening to the shogunate’s whining.

Normally Britain committed all sorts of atrocities around the world, but this time they had done almost nothing wrong.

Was it really too much to ask that those who had brutally murdered a peaceful tourist riding along on horseback be punished and forced to apologize?

If you stopped any person on the street and asked, they would say Britain was not making any unreasonable demands.

However, the nation of gentlemen that was the British Empire could not simply let the matter pass.

Having grasped the uncomfortable relationship between the shogunate and Satsuma, British envoy Sir Edward Neale immediately reported the facts to London. The British Parliament, which had been waiting for just such an opportunity, promptly sent special instructions to Qing in coordination with the United States.

Even if only to ensure that the blood of a British Empire citizen had not been shed in vain, they would wring out every possible advantage to honor the soul of the deceased.

Conversely, the moment the United States grasped the situation, it sent an urgent telegram to the Cotton King of the South, who was currently enjoying the treatment of an honored guest in Qing, living a leisurely life.

The Anglo-Saxon synergy between the British Empire, which possessed sufficient cotton supply, and the United States, which had just ended its civil war and was looking for an opportunity to expand into the Pacific, produced an explosive force beyond imagination.

Yet the frogs in the well, completely unaware of the situation they were in, continued to shout:

“An apology? There will be no apology!”

“Come at us, you barbarians! The warriors of Satsuma do not fear death!”

They had no idea that the water they were swimming in was already beginning to boil.

Yokohama Harbor.

The port, which since its opening had handled nearly eighty percent of Japan’s trade volume, was as bustling as ever. Yet a chilling atmosphere, as if everyone were walking on thin ice, permeated the air.

In the heart of it all, inside the British legation, I sat facing Edward Neale.

“Instructions have arrived from London. They say, ‘Somewhat high-handed negotiations are permitted in order to secure maximum gain.’”

“Quite bold. That’s Prime Minister Palmerston for you.”

“We are also grateful for America’s cooperation. Knowing both nations are moving together makes things feel much lighter.”

No matter how freely the British Empire conducted its affairs, handling Asian matters—entangled in countless interests—alone was difficult.

Russia and France, among others, were watching with wide-open eyes, unwilling to let Britain monopolize the benefits.

Therefore, they could not afford to waste an opportunity like this one, where the moral justification was crystal clear.

This was likely why Neale was burning with such determination.

I pretended to encourage him while idly fingering the Japanese cotton textile samples laid out on the table.

“By the way, Mr. Envoy, how is the situation in the Japanese market? I hear a structure has formed where they sell raw silk and buy cotton textiles.”

“Ah, that? Statistically speaking, yes. Twenty to thirty percent of imports are our cotton goods. However… when you look inside, it gives one a headache.”

Neale clicked his tongue in irritation.

“These fellows buy our cotton yarn, but then they mix it with their native cotton called ‘wata’ and use it. The vast majority of farmers still spin thread at home and make their own clothes.”

“They’re not buying finished cloth, just the yarn?”

“Exactly. Moreover, each domain’s daimyo is protecting domestic cultivation under the banner of promoting local goods, so the speed at which our textiles penetrate deep into the interior is painfully slow.”

In other words, they had managed to insert a straw, but they still hadn’t found the proper vein and were only getting a few drops.

The direction to dig was beginning to come into view.

“Then the answer is simple. We just need to uproot that clumsy self-sufficiency.”

“Uproot it?”

“Isn’t Japan currently obsessed with exporting raw silk? That is this country’s only source of cash.”

I decided to plant the same plan I had given to Prince Gong into Japan.

Of course, if I went too blatantly, word might reach Prince Gong’s ears and cause trouble, so I would have to package it as their own voluntary choice.

“We must push hard this time. In the end, the local daimyo are forcing this bizarre seclusion policy under the guise of promoting domestic goods.”

“That is true…”

“Once that barrier is torn down, Japan will voluntarily turn all its cotton fields into mulberry fields. They won’t be able to compete.”

“In that case, the price of the silk we import would fall, and exporting cotton textiles would become far easier.”

Neale nodded with a sly smile.

“The perfect cycle would be completed—selling silk, then using the money to buy our cotton goods once more.”

And if Prince Gong began mass-producing silk like mad in Jiangnan, the silk markets of China and Japan would inevitably collide.

They would have to lower prices to export, but could Japan withstand the flood of cheap silk from Qing, which had gone all-in on silk exports?

Honestly, whoever won didn’t matter to me.

What mattered was that, following the Qing market of four hundred million people, Japan too would become structurally subordinate to Southern cotton.

Japan would forever remain a subcontractor supplying raw materials for silk, and its people’s clothing would fall under the dominion of Sueret Cotton.

If that happened, Southern exports would increase by at least forty percent.

At that point, anyone who tried to attack me could be painted as a lackey of Northern capitalists trying to ruin the Southern economy and shot without fear of punishment.

“As expected, Advisor Sett thinks on a completely different scale. Very well. We will make sure to nail that point down firmly during these negotiations.”

Now that the big picture was drawn, I needed to think about how to fill in the colors.

The shogunate wasn’t stupid. If we revealed our intentions too blatantly, they would surely try to buy time by using their heads.

I needed an excuse that would let us drive them so hard they wouldn’t dare test the waters.

After roughly aligning our story with Neale, the shogunate’s Magistrate of Foreign Affairs entered the legation with a face drained of all color.

“Envoy! Please quell your anger! As I have said repeatedly, our shogunate expresses its deepest regret regarding this incident…”

“Regret? Did you just say regret? A man is dead! A subject of the British Empire was stabbed in broad daylight, his guts spilling out as he died!”

Neale slammed his fist on the desk, exploding with rage exactly as scripted.

“Hand over the criminal! Bring me the head of Shimazu Hisamitsu! If you cannot, we shall erase Kagoshima from the map ourselves!”

“T-that… we have conveyed Her Majesty’s will several times, but Satsuma does not readily submit to the shogunate’s control…”

“You think that counts as an excuse? London has even said that if this matter is not handled properly, I will be recalled. We can wait no longer. The shogunate has no intention of holding Satsuma accountable—I shall report exactly that!”

Bang!

Neale shot to his feet and stormed out of the conference room.

The shogunate official left behind was trembling in terror.

I slowly approached and offered the dazed man a glass of water.

“Please calm yourself, Magistrate. The British envoy is rather hot-blooded.”

“Ah… yes, thank you. You are the official from Qing, correct? We truly do not know what to do…”

“From what I see, the shogunate is truly in an unfair position. Satsuma caused the incident, yet the shogunate must clean up the mess and take all the blame.”

“We are truly doing our utmost. If your honorable country could mediate on our behalf…”

“Hmm… it will be difficult, but not impossible.”

The shogunate had no idea that Britain and America had conspired to completely devastate the Asian cotton textile market.

Moreover, their feelings toward Satsuma, which had caused this massive disaster, could hardly be good. If properly provoked, they would surely swallow the bait.

“I am also the American representative, but I am here in the capacity of advisor for this joint Anglo-American effort. My father-in-law is a key figure in the British ruling party and carries considerable influence in London.”

“Ohh…!”

“I can speak to Prime Minister Palmerston and guide matters so that responsibility falls solely on Satsuma rather than the shogunate. Wouldn’t it be best to steer the British fleet’s cannons toward Kagoshima Bay instead of Edo?”

Satsuma was, after all, a thorn in the shogunate’s side.

If they could borrow the power of the Western barbarians to break Satsuma’s spirit at this opportunity, wouldn’t that be a gain?

“…Can you truly do that?”

“Of course. We do not wish to see the shogunate collapse. On the contrary, we hope the shogunate will rule Japan with strong authority. Only then will the treaties concluded with our countries remain valid.”

But if we were going this far to accommodate them, it was only natural that sincerity should be shown in return.

The shogunate could not possibly be unaware that both Britain and America were obsessed with money.

I very casually dropped a slight hint about what Britain wanted.

“Since they have had their temper provoked, it won’t come for free. You will need to offer them a gift substantial enough to calm them.”

“A gift, you say…”

“You should be prepared for one or two additional clauses to be inserted into the new commercial treaty. Of course, if all responsibility is shifted onto Satsuma, the burden on the shogunate will be considerably lighter.”

The magistrate swallowed hard.

His expression showed fear of what outrageous demands might come next, but he had no choice.

It would be dozens of times better to offer up Satsuma as a sacrifice and accept Britain’s demands than to let Edo burn under British naval guns.

“I understand. We shall do as you suggest, Advisor. Please, persuade the British Parliament well. If you produce results, the shogunate will never forget this kindness.”

“I will do my best.”

It was good that he clearly understood this was not free labor.

But honestly, this wasn’t something I was doing just for my own benefit.

I was going to eliminate the reactionary elements like Satsuma and Chōshū so the shogun could reign for a thousand years.

That said, I wasn’t asking for much.

Just something modest…

If the entire population of these islands would simply wear clothes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠made from Sueret Cotton, that would be enough.

I am not a greedy man.