III Osaka ??
I stretch the definition of “capital” here, I confess. Osaka’s current boundaries does contain the sites of several of those early palaces built by the nomadic imperial court. Back then the town was known as Naniwa. But those aren’t why I think it’s fair to number it as a capital. During that 160 year long civil war, Kyoto was the symbol of power. It played home to the symbol of the Emperor and also the faltering Ashikaga shoguns. So it became a target, and was sacked and ravaged by a line of warlords. But Osaka avoided that war until the very end. It was New York to the Washington DC of Kyoto: the financial center, the trade hub, and the place where you could convert rice into gold — which was the underpinning of the entire samurai class’s power. To some degree the ancient dictate that *you don’t fuck with the money* protected it.
And so for a major part of Japan’s history it was the largest and richest city anywhere in the islands, too important even to allow a single lord to control it. It was the port city that lead to Kyoto and the entire Kansai; and the maritime roots run into the very ground here, as Osaka is criss-crossed by canals, such as the famous Dotonburi which is a fantastic Times-Squarish place to stroll along and much on a takoyaki or twelve. Times Square drives me crazy, but places like don’t. Perhaps it helps that I can’t understand what anyone is saying, and despite the noise and crowds I can just observe and think. But whatever it is, it’s touristy as hell, but for a reason, and worth a visit.
When I planned this trip I debated between staying in Kyoto and visiting Osaka, or vice-versa. The hotels in Osaka were cheaper, but history pointed me to Kyoto. I suspected the price difference meant Kyoto hotels were more convenient for what I’d want to see, so I went that way. But, I was wrong. It’s hard to point to why some places *feel right* while others don’t, but the energy on Osaka’s streets, the greetings when you walk into a store or restaurant, the looks people give you when you wave them ahead of you onto the subway escalator — it all made for a warmer, more welcoming time. It’s a little precious to over-generalize based on history, but it felt true that Kyoto was a city founded to keep the unworthy out, while Osaka’s history was based on welcoming in outsiders and finding them a place. At any rate, I don’t feel a burning urge to return to Kyoto, but I definitely spent too little time in Osaka.
The Big Draw in Osaka is of course the monstrous castle grounds in the middle of the city, whose existence is a hint that Osaka didn’t *entirely* avoid that great war. Oda’s betrayer, Akechi Mitsuhide, did not succeed in his coup — another Oda’s generals, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, executed him in the name of Oda’s heirs.
But we have to have a brief diversion here where I rant a little about the *Shogun* miniseries. This historical period is endlessly fascinating, full of living legends that later eras would use to invent the myth of the Great Samurai Warrior. But that picture: a stalwart swordsman heedless of his own death, obsessed with honor and duty, and unbeatable in a battle of the blade by today’s lackluster nitwits, is mostly nonsense. It’s the product of later, Boomer-style whining in the 1700s about how kids today have to so easy.
A 160 civil war is a crucible. Figures of great ability and ambition are no longer restrained by social bounds and station. These warlords were headstrong, legendary figures, but they dealt in betrayal and dishonor as well as anyone else, when it suited their ambitions. Hell, the sword wasn’t even their proper symbol. One of the real secrets of Oda’s success was that he quickly realized the potential of vast peasant armies armed with spears and muskets. A musket itself is expensive, but compared to the cost of a lifetime’s training for swordsman or archers, the total solider was very cheap, and a lifetime of training with a *katana* cannot stop a bullet. Oda’s style of warfare was about 50 years ahead of the Europeans who’d brought Japan those gun designs in the first place. The English sailor of the story is based on a historical figure, but his real value was in advising on *ship design.* The samurai by the era could have taught him musketry tactics.
So I say this in way of explaining the natural outcome of Toyotomi’s next moves. Oda’s designated heir died with him in the Honno-ji, and it was *completely unsurprising* that Toyotomi, a figure who had risen from the ranks of ordinary peasant soldiery to become one of the top warriors in all Japan, did not just calmly step aside for the next in line, but sidelined the whole clan and took power himself. Somehow he managed this without letting the *stain of great dishonor* force him to ritual suicide. Instead he finished the job of unifying Japan, and then shipped a vast army to conquer Korea with the eventual goal of overthrowing the faltering Ming Dynasty and becoming the emperor of China.
Yeah, he thought big. And he built the monstrous castle in Osaka as a center of his family and his rule, another reason why Osaka counts as a capital. But his wars in Korea ended up in disaster. And when he died, he’d recently killed off his adoptive heir because his first natural born son was recently born, and so he left a child in nominal control of Japan, and so his clan was ended the same way that he ended the Oda: his vassal Tokugawa Ieyasu isolated his heir in the castle, and eventually would besiege and destroy it, killing off the Toyotomi line. The Osaka castle that stands now, therefore, is a replica. So if you want to see the grounds and the gardens, go nuts. I’d skip the castle keep itself.
If you want history, take the train 90 minutes south and check out Himeji Castle instead. It too will be crowded, most of the year; but it’s worth it. If you time it right, you can go to Himeji during one of their nighttime illumination events, which can be pretty special. Japan is big on nighttime light festivals — there’s the great Kobe Luminarie in December, which I sadly missed, but I did catch the Chichibu Night Festival in Saitama near Tokyo, which was an absolute riot of hand-carried torchlit floats, the longest fireworks display I’ve ever seen, and enough street food and wine vendors that the line “beer me!” practically works just like that.