To what extend did the Japanese government "lose control" of the military in WW2?

by DeliciousFold2894

I was listening to the Hardcore History podcast about the Pacific War and Dan Carlin says that the Japanese government essentially lost control over the army. To what extent is this true?

What I'm even more curious about is how overall coordination (or lack thereof) existed during the initial stages of WW2. I know there was a lot of debate over wether the North (Army invades Sibera) or South (Navy invades Pacific Islands) should be attacked. If the Government didn't really control the army or the Navy, how was a single plan even coordinated?

Lubyak

Part 1/2

A key part of the narrative surrounding Imperial Japan is that the military had seized total control of the government, and whatever civilian government was effectively powerless. To some extent, even pre-war U.S. leadership seemed to believe in this, as the pre-war sanctions program enacted by the United States focused on pushing the Japanese economy to the breaking point to discredit the militarists in power and thus allow for the return to power of a hypothetical 'moderate' civilian government. Of course, while there is an element of truth to this particular narrative, the actual balance of power between the Imperial Japanese Army (IJA), Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) (because it is important to distinguish between the branches of the Japanese military, rather than lumping together), and the civilian government is more complex than to simply say that the civilian government had "lost control" of the military.

For one, to say that the civilian government had lost control of the military is to imply that there was a time when it had control. For those of us in the West, civilian control of the military seems as though it is the "normal" way things are done, and that military rule is a per se usurpation and similarly unlawful. However, for Japan under the Meiji Constitution, no civilian control of the military was a feature, not a bug, of the system. The Meiji Restoration brought a new group of individuals to the height of power in Japan around the newly 'empowered' Meiji Emperor commonly known as the Meiji Oligarchs, but the most influential of the oligarchs were the retired statesmen known as the genrō. These individuals were generally those instrumental in the Meiji Restoration and the establishment of the new imperial government of Japan. When it came to balance of power between the military and the civilian government, the genrō were extremely conscious of the series of samurai rebellions that had threatened the new imperial government, particularly the Satsuma Rebellion, led by Saigō Takamori. Takamori's rebellion had been an existential threat to the imperial government, and so--when it came time to formulate the Meiji Constitution--the genrō were determined to craft it so that no individual could combine political and military power as Takamori had again. To that end, the framers of the constitutions deliberately had it so that the Emperor was the supreme commander of both the Army and the Navy, rather than the civilian government. Quite simply, the genrō did not trust the democratically elected government with control of the military out of concern that the government would become mired in politics, and thus seek to use military power against their rivals or the imperial structure as a whole. To that end, placing the Army and Navy under the direct control of the Emperor was supposed to remove the military from the potential influence of politics, as well as under the control of those who influenced the Emperor: the genrō. Their influence would ensure the military would be able to ensure the survival of the imperial system, regardless of whatever political clashes grew out of the Diet.

Of course, the dependence of the system on the personhood of the Emperor had the ability to be an apparent snag. While the Meiji Constitution framed the Emperor as the ultimate authority within the state (and the Constitution was indeed promulgated as handed down from the Emperor) in practice the weight of inertia combined with substantial institutional isolation meant that the Emperor was very much in a situation where he "reigned, but did not rule." For the genrō, this helped increase their influence, as they provided the necessary influence to guide the Emperor to weigh in as necessary. However, as the time from the Meiji Restoration increased, the genrō began to pass away. Once departed, they could not simply be replaced, as their position as the founding fathers of Imperial Japan was what enabled them to hold such a position of influence. The loss of the genrō contributed to the increasing distance of the Emperor from the actual governance of the Empire (that the Meiji Emperor's successor, the Taishō Emperor had some form of illness that limited his faculties certainly did not help matters). As discussed, the Meiji Constitution held that the Emperor was the Supreme Commander of the Army and Navy, which the service chiefs chose to interpret as "the Principle of Supreme Command", which held that as the Army and Navy were directly commanded by the Emperor, they were not subject to the control of the Prime Minister or other elected officials. Moreover, the “active duty rule” held that only active duty officers could be appointed as Army or Navy Minister, which in turn gave the Army and Navy a veto over the formation of a civilian government. As the genrō died off in the early part of the 20th century, clashes between the civilian government and the military would only increase. Matters would come to a head with the Taishō political crisis of 1912-1913. Disputes between both the Army and Navy with the civilian government over reductions in the defense budget threatened political crisis. While the civilian government and the Navy managed to triumph over the Army, even seeing the active-duty rule abolished. Though Japan would move forward with tan apparent victory by the civilian government over the military, the Army response was to concentrate power in the General Staff, where they could assert the right of Supreme Command. Though humbled, the Army was not yet cowed under civilian control.

The issue with insubordination did not only exist between the army and the government, but between the Army’s command and its own lower officers. The IJA's own history of insubordination stretched back to even before its formation as a service, with institutional idolisation for individuals acting on pure motives, even if their actions were counter to their orders. This tendency pre-dated the Meiji Restoration, coming from samurai ideals of gekokujō (lit. "the lower rules the higher") and--within the IJA--from almost its conception with the Taiwan Expedition of 1874 (what can likely be considered Imperial Japan's first expeditionary campaign). The tendency was also highly driven by the distance of the Emperor. Since the Emperor had little interaction with most of the population, it became very easy for officers who disagreed with the directives they'd received from their superiors to in turn argue that these orders were contrary to the true "Imperial Will" and thus acting in defiance of these orders would be in accordance with the true "Imperial Will". While many of the officers who turned to this particular justification tended to be younger field-grade officers from poorer backgrounds, they often had tacit support from more senior leadership. The most famous acts of insubordination within the Imperial Army, of course, was the 1928 assassination of Fengtian Clique warlord Zhang Zuolin and the subsequent annexation of Manchuria in 1931. Neither of these incidents were the product of schemes concocted in Tokyo that were then communicated to the Kwantung Army (Japan’s field army in Manchuria), but both were rather the product of action by local (often quite junior) officers. While the army’s insubordination had been cowed slightly by the Taishō political crisis, and its popularity undermined by the Siberian Intervention (1918-1922), the Army was still not fully under civilian control. When the Army became increasingly discontented with government policy in Manchuria, Colonel Kōmoto Daisaku conspired to assassinate Zhang Zuolin as the warlord returned to Manchuria from Beijing. Although successful, Kōmoto’s role was quickly uncovered, but—in a show of what was to come—Army leadership (both in the Kwantung Army and in Tokyo) argued for covering up his involvement, as revealing and punishing him could be harmful to Japan’s position in China. While the action itself was not ordered by Army command, it was tacitly supported and retroactively endorsed. This would only provide encouragement three years later where—again—field officers would conspire to launch an invasion of Manchuria, without the permission of (and in fact, in express contradiction of) the orders of the government and high command. While planning for the invasion was practically an open secret, and the conspirators were directly ordered not to engage in any kind of operation against Manchuria, there was no effort to punish the insubordination. Once the invasion had been begun, the Army General Staff was quick to support it, and the civilian government was powerless to stop it. Importantly, Japanese control of Manchuria was a quite popular idea back in Japan, and so there was little political will to stage a large-scale confrontation with the Army, which could well have meant a coup. And so, Manchuria was added to the Japanese empire, against the will of the ostensible Japanese government. Japanese government policy was ultimately being directed not from Tokyo, but by field officers in Mukden, who orchestrated a war that dragged the Army and—ultimately—the government in their wake.