Killian Gore's lively "mukbang diplomacy" began on the very first day of his arrival.
When the Shogun and the daimyo saw the Prince Consort of the British Empire enthusiastically stuffing sushi into his mouth, they were naturally delighted. The drinking that followed was equally cheerful and friendly.
Having firmly captured everyone's hearts on the first day, I was escorted to the residence that the Shogun himself had prepared for me.
If there had been a British embassy, I could have simply gone there. But Japan had not yet established formal diplomatic relations with foreign countries, so there was no British embassy to speak of.
Still, it seemed the Shogun's promise about security had not been an empty one. Fully armed soldiers stood guard in front of the residence assigned to me, watching the surroundings with fierce vigilance.
"It is an honor to host Your Highness! While you stay here, not even an ant will be allowed inside. Please rest comfortably without worry."
"The Shogun has been very considerate. Thank you."
Soldiers and samurai sent by the shogunate guarded the outside of the estate, while inside British soldiers under Admiral Parker kept watch. As far as the residence itself was concerned, there was little reason to worry about security.
But assassination attempts usually happened during public appearances, not inside the lodging.
Admiral Parker continued carefully reviewing my schedule for the following day, checking every movement route and guard position without letting his attention slip.
"Your Highness… you seemed to get along with these people even better than I expected."
"Did it look that way?"
"Yes. I do not know their language, so I could not follow the conversation, but just by their expressions I could see how favorable their feelings toward you were."
"Well, once their Shogun publicly declared me to be a Tokugawa, I ceased to be a foreigner here. And since I showed that I truly enjoy their culture, it would be difficult for them not to look upon me favorably."
"…So all of that was deliberate?"
Parker, who had spent his entire life as a soldier, stared in surprise before nodding in understanding.
"That explains it. You ate an astonishing amount of fish. The sake was tolerable, but I could never stomach that sushi. To think Your Highness was eating it as part of a calculated display… I am once again impressed by your abilities."
"Everything is for the national interest of the British Empire."
Hmm. Was it really that strange?
It had been a while since I last ate sushi, so I actually found it fairly enjoyable.
To be honest, I had expected something closer to the old-style pressed sushi people talked about in the past—very different from the modern kind. I had not held high expectations.
But to my surprise, the sushi served here in the mid-19th century was quite decent. In fact, I might have eaten more than intended simply because it tasted better than expected.
Of course, from the perspective of other British people, it must have looked like I was either acting or enthusiastically eating some bizarre food.
Come to think of it, if Japanese people learned that the British were criticizing their food, their pride might be wounded as well.
"To think Your Highness would smile and eat such food for the sake of the treaty… I believe I must correct my own attitude. I had complained earlier about the burden of guarding you, but now I feel ashamed. Thank you, Your Highness. You have reminded me what it means to be a soldier."
"Ah… yes. I'm glad it helped."
"So now that not only the Shogun but all the high officials view Your Highness favorably, we simply need to secure as many benefits as possible and return home, correct?"
"No. Even if I am welcomed, there will always be those who resent the Shogun. Such people will not be pleased if he appears to draw the British Empire into his affairs."
"But surely no one would openly oppose the will of the highest authority in this country."
No.
If no one opposed him, that would be inconvenient.
I had endured a six-month round trip—and Victoria's inevitable fury—to come all this way. If the only result were a simple commercial treaty, that would feel rather unfair.
To be honest, before arriving at the banquet yesterday I had been a little worried.
What if the political situation in Asia had shifted enough to strengthen the Shogun's authority again?
In that case I would have had no choice but to settle for negotiating the best possible treaty terms.
But that would not satisfy me.
Of course, the official reason for my visit was indeed to secure a trade treaty—what was politely called a commercial agreement but in reality amounted to an unequal treaty—to establish a British foothold in Japan.
But my real objective, which I had told no one, was something else entirely.
"Admiral Parker, I noticed you were studying the Japanese ships closely during our approach. What did you think of them?"
"At first I wondered whether they had deliberately hidden their real fleet to conceal their strength. But after entering the harbor, I am convinced. Their naval power is not much different from Qing China's."
"And their coastal defenses?"
"I observed those as well. They are no better than Qing China's. It seems the entire level of Asia is rather low, not just Qing."
That was hardly surprising.
People laughed at Qing China for its incompetence, but in terms of technology most other Asian states were no better.
Japan had maintained limited contact with the Dutch and had begun studying modern tactics more than a decade earlier, but they were still barely beyond the earliest stages.
And reforms done poorly could be worse than no reform at all. Japan's early reforms were no exception.
The Meiji Restoration was often remembered for its success, but before that there had been a long period of fumbling experiments and mistakes by the shogunate.
"So even if something were to happen, the Asian fleet alone would be sufficient. We would not need reinforcements from Britain."
"…Does Your Highness believe the British Empire might go to war with the shogunate?"
"Of course not. The British Empire under Her Majesty values peace. Unless they provoke us first, there would be no reason for war. And unless the shogunate has lost its mind, they would hardly wish to fight us."
"Then why ask?"
"I was simply curious. Knowing the gap between us will make negotiations easier."
"Ah, I see. If Your Highness knows their true strength, it will help apply pressure during negotiations."
Parker then explained in detail the strength of the fleet we had brought, the forces already stationed in Asia, and the vast gap separating them from Japan's naval capabilities.
While he was still explaining, the steward responsible for managing the residence knocked carefully and announced that a visitor had arrived.
Since I had already said that I would meet anyone whose identity had been properly verified, it seemed someone had taken the offer seriously.
Still, if someone had come personally to request an audience with a man whom the Shogun himself had welcomed so eagerly, that visitor could hardly be ordinary.
If he had been insignificant, the guards would never have allowed him through.
After all, no country understood better than Japan that "anyone" did not truly mean anyone.
"I am Mōri Takachika, daimyo of the Chōshū domain. I thank you for granting me the honor of meeting the Prince Consort of Great Britain."
"Pleasure to meet you. I must apologize—my knowledge is limited, so I am not entirely certain where the Chōshū domain lies."
"Not at all! It is my mistake for failing to consider that Your Highness has come from across the sea. Chōshū lies at the western edge of Honshu, the largest island of Japan. When I heard that such a distinguished guest from a great power would be visiting, I have waited here in Edo since last week, eagerly anticipating today."
"I see. If you have waited with such dedication, perhaps I should have arrived sooner."
Mōri Takachika, the daimyo of Chōshū, looked about the same age as I was.
Although I pretended not to know where his domain was, in truth he was one of the daimyo I was watching most closely during this visit.
Chōshū and Satsuma.
In the original history, these two domains had produced many of the reformists who led Japan's transformation while shouting slogans such as Revere the Emperor, Expel the Barbarians and calling for the overthrow of the shogunate.
Later, Chōshū would become the heart of the Japanese Army, while Satsuma would become the symbol of the Navy—remaining rivals until the very end of Imperial Japan.
Yoshida Shōin, who advocated the conquest of Korea, came from Chōshū. So did Itō Hirobumi, a name especially familiar to Koreans.
There was no way I did not know this place.
However, while it was fine to show interest in Japanese culture, revealing too much knowledge of Japan's internal politics might make them wary.
In situations like this, pretending ignorance was actually better.
It reassured them and encouraged them to think they could use me.
"I hope I did not visit too early while Your Highness should be resting. I hurried here as soon as I heard that you would meet anyone who wished to speak with you."
"Not at all. This is my first time in Edo, so I was hoping to speak with someone. I am pleased that a daimyo would come personally."
"Thank you for saying so."
"Still, I have a busy schedule tomorrow, so we cannot speak for too long. Perhaps an hour?"
"That will be more than sufficient."
Although I could speak Japanese, I was not yet fully comfortable with the speech patterns of this era.
Setting a time limit would encourage him to get to the point quickly.
Considering how uneasy he had looked during the banquet whenever the Shogun acted overly friendly with me, I already had a rough idea of his position.
Besides, he could not possibly know that I was already aware of the rise of sonnō jōi ideology and Japanese nativist thought in domains like Satsuma and Chōshū.
So I decided to listen calmly and see how he would test me.
"Although I was born in Asia, this visit feels very different from when I went to Qing China. Somehow… it makes me feel more at ease."
"I have heard that your experiences in Qing China were not particularly pleasant."
"That is true. As you may know, I tried to make many concessions to Qing China. Although I serve the British Empire, half the blood in my veins is still Asian. To be honest, I wished to avoid war with Qing. I knew the British Empire would crush them overwhelmingly."
"Really? Most people would say that is exactly why war would be acceptable."
"From the perspective of British interests alone, war was indeed beneficial. But if you consider Asia as a whole? If Qing China collapses helplessly before Britain, every European power will rush into Asia like wolves. If Qing falls so easily, what would happen to other Asian states? Korea? Japan? To France or Russia, they would look like meat dripping with juice."
Of course it was a complete lie.
But the historical record clearly showed that I had publicly pursued a conciliatory policy toward Qing China.
Add a few embellishments and anecdotes, and suddenly the story of Killian Tokugawa—the man concerned for the fate of Asia—was complete.
"Then Your Highness worries about Korea and Japan as well?"
"Exactly. Otherwise, why would the Prince Consort of the British Empire travel for months to come here? To be honest, many in Parliament argued that Japan's invitation should be rejected outright."
"Yes… I too did not expect Your Highness would truly accept the Shogun's invitation."
"So I told them that if we were to sign a commercial treaty, it would be better for me to go personally. But that was not the real issue. Surely you would not wish to see your country torn apart by the rival ambitions of foreign powers? I feel the same. I sincerely hope that this kind and beautiful country will not become a victim of the great powers' struggle for influence."
A lie repeated convincingly could become indistinguishable from truth.
Drawing upon the skills I had honed during my political career, I spoke with such sincerity that even I felt no trace of discomfort in my own tone.
And since the entire conversation was conducted in Japanese, Mōri would find it even harder to doubt my intentions.
"So Your Highness believes that Britain and Japan should not establish diplomatic relations?"
"No. That is not what I mean."
"…Pardon? But earlier you said…"
"For Japan's own sake, it must establish relations with Britain—rather than with any other country."
It might sound like I was contradicting myself.
But if he listened carefully, he would understand.
I only hoped he would repeat my words exactly to the comrades who shared his cause.