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Studies of the Weatherhead East Asian Institute, Columbia University
Planning for Empire: Reform Bureaucrats and the Japanese Wartime State
Japan's invasion of Manchuria in September of 1931 initiated a new phase of brutal occupation and warfare in Asia and the Pacific. It forwarded the project of remaking the Japanese state along technocratic and fascistic lines and creating a self-sufficient Asian bloc centered on Japan and its puppet state of Manchukuo. In Planning for Empire, Janis Mimura traces the origins and evolution of this new order and the ideas and policies of its chief architects, the reform bureaucrats. The reform bureaucrats pursued a radical, authoritarian vision of modern Japan in which public and private spheres were fused, ownership and control of capital were separated, and society was ruled by technocrats.
Mimura shifts our attention away from reactionary young officers to state planners--reform bureaucrats, total war officers, new zaibatsu leaders, economists, political scientists, engineers, and labor party leaders. She shows how empire building and war mobilization raised the stature and influence of these middle-class professionals by calling forth new government planning agencies, research bureaus, and think tanks to draft Five Year industrial plans, rationalize industry, mobilize the masses, streamline the bureaucracy, and manage big business. Deftly examining the political battles and compromises of Japanese technocrats in their bid for political power and Asian hegemony, Planning for Empire offers a new perspective on Japanese fascism by revealing its modern roots in the close interaction of technology and right-wing ideology.
Mimura shifts our attention away from reactionary young officers to state planners--reform bureaucrats, total war officers, new zaibatsu leaders, economists, political scientists, engineers, and labor party leaders. She shows how empire building and war mobilization raised the stature and influence of these middle-class professionals by calling forth new government planning agencies, research bureaus, and think tanks to draft Five Year industrial plans, rationalize industry, mobilize the masses, streamline the bureaucracy, and manage big business. Deftly examining the political battles and compromises of Japanese technocrats in their bid for political power and Asian hegemony, Planning for Empire offers a new perspective on Japanese fascism by revealing its modern roots in the close interaction of technology and right-wing ideology.
- GenresJapanNonfictionHistory
240 pages, Hardcover
First published February 3, 2011
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
August 14, 2017
Solid details on the techno-fascist bureaucrats who attempted to experiment in Manchukuo and implement the economic New Order in Japan. Very technical but gives an overview of their visions. Lacking the evaluation of their policies--any mentioning of the success? failure? mixed results?
December 15, 2025
3.5/5
Boring, narrow in scope, but insightful. Docking it a few points because there is also no "planning for empire" without talking about the grisly boots-on-ground things it took to build the empire in the first place, which is my biggest gripe with the book and the author's take on the subject. That being said, lots still to reflect on, so I suppose a better characterization of the text is indeed, "narrow."
I read this book to answer a simple question: "much as we know Japanese political figures and leaders like Kishi Nobusuke to be bad, why is it that their vision of Japanese society and state planning the one that continues to exist?" Put in a more general way — "why is it that objectively bad men make effective nation-builders, whereas many more liberal and/or progressive regimes lay haplessly by the wayside?" Aside of course from a general willingness to do anything and everything in their power to seize and accumulate power (see — the reliance of the Japanese occupying government in Manchukuo on income generated by underworld yazuka kingpins such as Ryoichi Sasakawa and Yoshio Kodama, who made money through the smuggling of drugs and proliferation of gambling rings).
I can't help but think that ultimately it goes back to this idea — no matter how perverse — that institutions outlast men of all intentions and walks of life. Those who succeed in the political arena and in matters of domestic statecraft have — for better or for worse — an inherent knack and taste for building institutions and sets of rules and systems of behavior and spoil-sharing that stand the test of time. This is not to say that all institution-building efforts are good — but rather that the presence of any institution easily trumps its lack thereof (shocker, I know!). As such, no status quo can truly be overhauled without a cold, single-minded commitment towards erecting equally muscular structures and systems that overthrow it, regardless of the fervor of one's rabble-rousing or exposition of principles.
This isn't however to say that there is no room for theoretical reflection and/or idealism within the realms of (somewhat) effective and influential statecraft. As this book shows, much as Japan's techno-fascist leaders envisioned themselves as purely rational, science-led beings, partisanship and politics more often than not was the final arbiter of seemingly science-backed decision-making (e.g. technocrats' rationale for the bombing of Pearl Harbor and assessment of their defense capabilities vis-a-vis the Allied Powers, TBH any time the idea of "total war" mobilization comes up in conversation throughout the book). There is a deeply personal disillusionment with the status of Japan in the world that spurs many of these gifted technocrats to action. The book understandably skips over much it, but it's not a stretch to assume that the core trigger for much of post-WW1 Japan's "total war" bent stems from issues like the Washington Naval Treaty of 1922 — a post-war agreement that to Japan effectively serves as a final diplomatic humiliation of sorts — that no matter how rigidly and thoroughly they throw themselves into becoming like the West, they will never be seen as Equal. That when push comes to shove, they are the foreign Other, needing in the future to be cut-off from the world.
In that adverse post-Industrial Revolution dog-eat-dog environment, and seeing surely for themselves what happens if a nation completely rolls over to the whims of the West (see 19th and early 20th century China, India, French Indochina, Indonesia, etc.) — what room is there really for full-throated embraces of liberalism and human rights and "honor"? All that remains around them is flesh and steel.
P.S.
This is NOT however to say that Kishi and the reform bureaucrats' vision for Japan is on the right side of history and humanity. Much has been written and shall hopefully continue to be written about the many wartime atrocities committed by the Japanese against the territories and peoples that its army occupied (see: comfort women, to say the minimum). However, results are results and power is power, and I find myself trying quite hard to understand the rationale of these modern Japanese reform-war-leader figures partly to understand the type of hardiness that survives the brutal arena of modern geopolitics mainly because it gives me more conviction to separate what is superficial and what is not when it comes to society-building.
The reform bureaucrats are right in that the threat of death and war looms large no matter where we go. The great powers wield their command of it masterfully. How far must we go to find Death's End? What are we willing to sacrifice individually to allow for the survival of the collective? We must see and cherish the humanity in each and every one of us. Perpetrators of violence must be punished. But violent force itself must never go unrewarded or unacknowledged. Only when we start to understand fully the "hearts of darkness" that lies within many cold masters of our modern world can we begin to overcome them.
Boring, narrow in scope, but insightful. Docking it a few points because there is also no "planning for empire" without talking about the grisly boots-on-ground things it took to build the empire in the first place, which is my biggest gripe with the book and the author's take on the subject. That being said, lots still to reflect on, so I suppose a better characterization of the text is indeed, "narrow."
I read this book to answer a simple question: "much as we know Japanese political figures and leaders like Kishi Nobusuke to be bad, why is it that their vision of Japanese society and state planning the one that continues to exist?" Put in a more general way — "why is it that objectively bad men make effective nation-builders, whereas many more liberal and/or progressive regimes lay haplessly by the wayside?" Aside of course from a general willingness to do anything and everything in their power to seize and accumulate power (see — the reliance of the Japanese occupying government in Manchukuo on income generated by underworld yazuka kingpins such as Ryoichi Sasakawa and Yoshio Kodama, who made money through the smuggling of drugs and proliferation of gambling rings).
I can't help but think that ultimately it goes back to this idea — no matter how perverse — that institutions outlast men of all intentions and walks of life. Those who succeed in the political arena and in matters of domestic statecraft have — for better or for worse — an inherent knack and taste for building institutions and sets of rules and systems of behavior and spoil-sharing that stand the test of time. This is not to say that all institution-building efforts are good — but rather that the presence of any institution easily trumps its lack thereof (shocker, I know!). As such, no status quo can truly be overhauled without a cold, single-minded commitment towards erecting equally muscular structures and systems that overthrow it, regardless of the fervor of one's rabble-rousing or exposition of principles.
This isn't however to say that there is no room for theoretical reflection and/or idealism within the realms of (somewhat) effective and influential statecraft. As this book shows, much as Japan's techno-fascist leaders envisioned themselves as purely rational, science-led beings, partisanship and politics more often than not was the final arbiter of seemingly science-backed decision-making (e.g. technocrats' rationale for the bombing of Pearl Harbor and assessment of their defense capabilities vis-a-vis the Allied Powers, TBH any time the idea of "total war" mobilization comes up in conversation throughout the book). There is a deeply personal disillusionment with the status of Japan in the world that spurs many of these gifted technocrats to action. The book understandably skips over much it, but it's not a stretch to assume that the core trigger for much of post-WW1 Japan's "total war" bent stems from issues like the Washington Naval Treaty of 1922 — a post-war agreement that to Japan effectively serves as a final diplomatic humiliation of sorts — that no matter how rigidly and thoroughly they throw themselves into becoming like the West, they will never be seen as Equal. That when push comes to shove, they are the foreign Other, needing in the future to be cut-off from the world.
In that adverse post-Industrial Revolution dog-eat-dog environment, and seeing surely for themselves what happens if a nation completely rolls over to the whims of the West (see 19th and early 20th century China, India, French Indochina, Indonesia, etc.) — what room is there really for full-throated embraces of liberalism and human rights and "honor"? All that remains around them is flesh and steel.
P.S.
This is NOT however to say that Kishi and the reform bureaucrats' vision for Japan is on the right side of history and humanity. Much has been written and shall hopefully continue to be written about the many wartime atrocities committed by the Japanese against the territories and peoples that its army occupied (see: comfort women, to say the minimum). However, results are results and power is power, and I find myself trying quite hard to understand the rationale of these modern Japanese reform-war-leader figures partly to understand the type of hardiness that survives the brutal arena of modern geopolitics mainly because it gives me more conviction to separate what is superficial and what is not when it comes to society-building.
The reform bureaucrats are right in that the threat of death and war looms large no matter where we go. The great powers wield their command of it masterfully. How far must we go to find Death's End? What are we willing to sacrifice individually to allow for the survival of the collective? We must see and cherish the humanity in each and every one of us. Perpetrators of violence must be punished. But violent force itself must never go unrewarded or unacknowledged. Only when we start to understand fully the "hearts of darkness" that lies within many cold masters of our modern world can we begin to overcome them.
December 4, 2017
Good not great intellectual history of the technocrats who built the Japanese empire and whose legacy shaped the postwar planning state. Not necessarily original - especially considering the literature in Japanese - but still a good resource.
November 22, 2015
I read this for a class, so my actual willingness to read this book was not automatically at an all time height, but unlike some required reading it was not all that difficult. The writing style was thankfully simplistic enough for me to follow along without needing to continuously go back to re-read so I could understand the material. It provides an interesting look on what war-time before and during the World Wars were like for Japan, focusing not only on how it reacted with the Allies and Axis, but most on how Manchukuo played a part in their fight as well as the bureaucrats, or technocrats, which allowed the smaller nation to fight on equal ground with the other countries involved in the wars. Very interesting subject material and written in a blessedly easy, yet truthful voice.
June 19, 2013
Not very good: disappointingly heavy on bureaucrat bio and what they wrote, as opposed to what they actually *did* or what the corporations did in Manchuria & Korea, etc. If the textual analysis informed events, the focus could be forgiven, but since it doesn't, it all comes off as lazy hackwork in lieu of an actual contribution to understanding the period.
April 24, 2013
This book is as dry as its focus on bureaucrats. I found nothing particularly new about Manchuria or planning for total war, except for more detailed profiles of reform bureaucrats who are the protagonists of Mimura's book. Introduction is well written so I was really looking forward to reading the rest, but I had a hard time keeping awake for most of the book...
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews