The President's Ambition (2)
The meeting room was thick with the acrid smoke of a foxhole cigarette.
Within this hazy, artificially created ethereal fog, the red carpet imported from Egypt, the custom high-backed chairs crafted from American oak, the faint scents of the Portuguese globe and annotated documents, and bookcases larger than the Devonshire-shirted men themselves lined up like a forest’s green whispers along both sides.
If you recognized the lavishly engraved ceiling patterns or the harmonious colors of the wallpapers that blended East and West, you would have instantly understood that this office belonged to someone of the highest station.
Around the large round table at its center sat the assembled figures.
Behind them, countless other silhouettes remained hidden in the shadows cast by the chandeliers, maintaining a quiet, watchful silence.
Most of them—short-haired, formally attired, leaning back against sofas upholstered in the softest materials—listened intently to the passionate explanation of one man who now held every gaze in the room.
“This country, this nation! How could a mere handful of drug addicts possibly overcome the bayonets and fury of the Republican army united by the spirit of the Three Principles of the People?” he declared. “Our true enemy lies in the old order, stained by ignorance, corruption, and weakness. At this moment, we require a great, decisive act to establish the ‘King’s Way’—the true spirit of the East.”
Unlike the others, the man who rose to his feet with his back ramrod straight clenched his fist against his chest and spoke urgently.
“... Therefore, the unity of the Republic cannot be so resolute, Mr. Mutsu?” he added, addressing me directly. Though still young, he was truly wise. Hmph. The story has spilled out far more than intended. For that reason, I believed I must return home to convey this news personally. That is why I have left my seat. Thank you for your attention.”
As he bowed his head to conclude the announcement, applause erupted from every side.
Clap clap clap!
The speaker was Mutsu Munemitsu, the special envoy, a name now familiar to all.
“Wonderful! What a splendid speech!”
Beside him, Hayashi Tadasu, the Korean resident envoy, clapped enthusiastically and urged the audience on.
“Overwhelming praise.”
Receiving the compliment with modest grace, Mutsu finally allowed his face—still stiff with anxiety and tension—to relax.
Guided by Hayashi’s lead, the resounding applause and the serious, meaningful nods turned toward the two men.
The atmosphere in the government meeting room, which had been drawn into the story of Korea, was generally bright and optimistic.
Knowledgeable intellectuals who craved news from neighboring regions or from overseas had always sought out such gatherings. With the theme of the explanation session being the new government of Korea—a topic that had caused a sensation across Europe in recent days—excitement could not be contained.
The tale of Korea’s revolution, the bloody path that had led the two nations toward war, the first alliance between East and West on equal terms.
For the Japanese, who had written a history soaked in blood—opening ports by force from America, collapsing the 250-year Edo Shogunate, and enduring repeated civil wars—today’s five-day political struggle that had unified public opinion and delivered consecutive victories against the overwhelming Qing Empire, and even established diplomatic relations on equal footing with the Western powers, remained astonishing.
As the meeting room’s mood and public sentiment flowed smoothly, the owner of today’s gathering and the highest-ranking figure in the room rose to his feet.
“Well, ministers. And the distinguished guests invited to join us today.”
It was Ito Hirobumi, Prime Minister of the Japanese Empire.
“Let us take a brief ten-minute recess. Afterward, we will have time for questions to Special Envoy Mutsu and Envoy Hayashi.”
Clap clap clap!
The declaration brought short applause and people rising from the sofas.
Most of the Meiji-era bureaucrats, former and current officials, a handful of military generals, outside politicians, and provincial governors who had attended the meeting immediately launched into question after question. Instead, they agreed with the Prime Minister’s words as host, gathered in small clusters to discuss among themselves, and soon began sharing their impressions of the Korean news that had unfolded that day.
When the groups dispersed and the room grew quieter, the meeting executives and cabinet ministers gathered around Ito Prime Minister, drawing Mutsu and Hayashi closer as today’s central figures.
“Today’s explanation meeting was truly moving.”
“Thank you. I feel deeply apologetic for leaving Hanyang so abruptly—”
“Not at all. Thanks to you, we were able to correct a great many of the absurd misunderstandings and baseless rumors that our Japanese senior officials and executives had harbored toward Korea. We also felt, indirectly, the new direction of rapidly shifting international diplomacy. As one would expect from Hayashi, the Korean unification envoy, and Mutsu, who is already being hailed as the next foreign minister.”
“Overwhelming praise. It is nothing but praise.”
Mutsu and Hayashi were at a loss for words before Ito Prime Minister’s words of encouragement. Not only Ito, but every core minister of the Meiji cabinet present exchanged compliments and praised the two men who had now been recognized as competent Korean diplomats.
“It is a truth that newly acquired good news from abroad is not wrong—only to collect bad domestic news and then receive good news from overseas.”
“Precisely so.”
Ito Prime Minister, gazing at the now-deserted meeting room after the break, let out a deep sigh. The ministers shook their heads in agreement.
According to the Prime Minister’s words, the Japanese Empire—since the Restoration, a nation that had known no peaceful days in its own affairs—could at last relax the chill that had settled over its external situation and changes.
“If it had not been for that day’s great incident, this country would never have remained so powerless.”
Ito spoke of the Satsuma Rebellion of Meiji 6, led by Saigo Takamori, the bloody civil war that followed, and its lingering wounds, furrowing his brow.
In Meiji 6, 400 radical theorists had submitted resignation letters and entered the political fray, led by Saigo Takamori.
It had been a bolt from the blue for the government, which had needed even a cat’s paw to push modernization forward.
The problem was that those damned traitors and rebels, despite the government’s generous amnesty, had remained silent in the rural mountains, refusing to come out and face judgment.
“The country’s reform is still far from complete.”
Even after the fragment toward the Shogunate had been successfully dismantled, Japan’s reform had not ended.
The government’s legitimacy and stability had been constantly shaken by assassination threats from those who styled themselves “governors.”
New ruling classes that had entered the political world behind each upheaval had clashed according to their own interests.
And finally, the explosion of discontent had erupted in the Satsuma Rebellion seven years earlier.
Thereafter, Japan’s finances and administrative capacity had been wasted like pouring water into a leaky jar, while the debts owed to the Western powers for modernization had grown into a snowball.
Moreover, the various social problems that inevitably arose with the push for modernization centered on cities had never ceased.
The skyrocketing rice prices caused by the sharp decline in rural manpower were merely cute. In an era without any concept of urban planning, the rural population that flocked to the cities had swollen the slums of every metropolis, and the expanding slums and slums had plunged urban security into the abyss.
Serious crimes had begun erupting in cities as early as the early 1880s.
As a result, unemployment and the exploitation of low-wage, high-intensity labor among young people who had come to the cities from the countryside soon led to strikes and protests. Future comrades who had studied abroad had joined unorthodox groups that studied nothing but strange waters instead of socialism, leaving scars on the nation’s driving force.
In particular, the Osaka Asahi Shimbun, which widely reported such social problems, had become a thorn in the imperial government’s side.
Their only recent good deed had been to factually describe and investigate the military achievements and war horrors of the Korean army active throughout Liaodong and Manchuria.
Apart from that, their coverage had consisted entirely of government-critical editorials, freedom and people’s rights movements, and labor rights issues.
“Damn traitors.”
Ito, who had received frequent updates from Hanyang through Hayashi, was still tense. He clenched and opened his hands several times before turning to Hayashi.
“Was there no opinion that the Tripartite Alliance would put pressure on our Japanese Empire? What about Korea’s domestic public opinion?”
Fukuzawa Yukichi, the former naval minister and philosopher, and Katsu Kaishu, the former naval minister, nodded in agreement.
Suspicious rumors had been circulating in Japanese diplomatic circles.
Revolutionary forces that had overthrown Joseon and established a republic were supposedly linked with France and the United States, who had signed an alliance to invade Japan in the future. Ridiculous nonsense.
The Qing Empire was the pre-work, and those who had occupied southern China and various islands would eventually invade Japan and turn themselves into perfect colonies.
“Of course, I know that it is the nonsense that people are talking about, but—”
Because the neighboring Qing China, still one step above them as an Asian traditional great power, had been beaten without a word by the Three Kingdoms, anxiety over Japanese citizens’ public opinion and diplomacy had been steadily growing.
One hundred thousand troops mobilized in Liaodong. Over fifty thousand allied troops massacred Qing forces on Taiwan.
Even if the Americans only provided economic aid and dispatched a fleet, the allied forces mobilized by the Three Kingdoms numbered two hundred thousand.
Considering that the government army mobilized by the Meiji government during the Satsuma Rebellion—the largest civil war since the Restoration—had been only about sixty thousand, the Korean revolutionary government’s mobilization of more than one hundred thousand troops was naturally shaking every Japanese government, press, and citizen.
This was true even for the military’s influential figures and former generals.
“I am leaving now, but former and current naval ministers and naval officers have been coming to me seriously asking about the fleet’s power enhancement. The scale of the French Far East Squadron and the American Pacific Fleet. What else would it be?”
“Th-that is—”
Hayashi swallowed hard at Katsu Kaishu’s serious expression and question.
Not at all. All of this had been a misunderstanding born from the imperfect exchange of information between the two countries.
Like the previous national letter incident, Japan’s misunderstandings stemmed from the greatest dissatisfaction and anxiety arising from their own internal problems.
Finally, Hayashi, who had looked around the world more widely and made many “friends” in Korea, had corrected their misunderstandings.
“Under my title as special envoy, I swear that there will be no friction with the home government except for reconsidering diplomatic relations with the Korean government, headed by Tongryeong, the head of the Republic, and the influential Korean media led by the Alliance Association. That is the mainstream of public opinion.”
The essence of today’s gathering had been to dispel such unfortunate incidents and misunderstandings born of inaccurate information exchange.
The role of diplomats was important—that was what he was saying.
“I heard that the Alliance Association is a conservative party founded by Joseon literati. Is that correct?”
Fukuzawa’s question made Mutsu shake his head and answer firmly.
“No, not at all, teacher. The initial founding of the Alliance was decisively aided by the efforts of Joseon literati and local elites, but after the revolution, the body of the Alliance is occupied by the absolute majority of poor farmers and self-employed farmers. Rather, the initial elite party members and forest leaders who were elected as revolutionary heroes are devoting themselves to the government and cabinet, serving as bureaucrats.”
“Indeed. It seems like our Restoration governors too. Then, are my long-time friends with Kim Ok-gyun also with them?”
“Yes, if you mean the Enlightenment Party, yes. All of them are taking high positions in Tongryeong’s revolutionary government and contributing to government reform.”
“Oh, as expected! As expected, the Korean revolutionary government can be summarized as the spiritual union of the Joseon nation that gathered the total will of the people for modernization.”
In Mutsu’s answer, Fukuzawa Yukichi, who had been talking about his deep friendship with Kim Ok-gyun, puffed up his chest a little, but became a bit gloomy when he reached the part where he had died gloriously and fell silent.
Ito Prime Minister, watching with a faint smile without interrupting the long speech, summarized the situation.
“First, the positive news is that the Tripartite Alliance’s alliance has nothing to do with our Japanese Empire, and that Korea’s new government is reconsidering positive relations with our Japan, correct?”
“Yes, Prime Minister.”
“Then, what about the Asian Pacific Union? The content you attached to me urgently in a telegram.”
Mutsu paused for a moment at the Prime Minister’s question, glancing at Ito’s eyes. That word—should he explain it here?
“Mutsu envoy.”
Then Ito added.
“People here next to me are never radical theorists who seriously believe in the Conquer Korea Theory or similar. They are people with firm opinions on the priority of important government policies and the direction of reform, and they also recognize that relations with neighboring countries are very important. Speak comfortably.”
“If you say so, I understand. Your Majesty.”
With the Prime Minister’s permission and guarantee, Mutsu, who had neatly arranged his clothes, opened his mouth with a firm expression.
“The President of Korea is hoping to visit as a state guest.”
The shocking news that no one could have imagined made Fukuzawa drop the teacup he was drinking. Katsu Kaishu stood up from his seat. Ito Prime Minister blinked his eyes.
‘What did I just hear?’