The premise for writing Hagakure stems from a vexation at the disintegration of warrior norms over previous decades, anti-shogunate sentiment, and nostalgic longing for the previous regimes of Lord Nabeshima Naoshige, first daimyo of the Nabeshima fiefdom, and his son and heir Katsushige (1580–1657).14 Jōchō laments how young samurai “talk of money, about profit and loss, their household financial problems, taste in fashion, and idle chatter of sex.” (1-63) Preoccupation with frivolities and consumerism was symptomatic of new generations of warriors who had never experienced battle, and therefore lacked discipline and the purity of intent reminiscent of earlier generations.
Jōchō’s discourse is multifaceted and ostensibly chaotic, but the spirit of Hagakure can best be summed up by the four simple oaths he alludes to throughout the text:
I will never fall behind others in pursuing the Way of the warrior.
I will always be ready to serve my lord.
I will honor my parents.
I will serve compassionately for the benefit of others.
(See “Idle Talk in the Dead of Night”)
At face value, the morals Jōchō is purporting here seem universal in nature, and not particularly burdensome. Underlying these outwardly serene pledges are powerful, emotive sentiments that penetrate to the very core of the samurai culture, in which life can be forfeited in an explosive instant of insanity for the sake of honor and loyalty. From the outset, Jōchō’s sermon is pragmatic and affirms what could be described as a cult of death.
Indisputably the most famous phrase in Hagakure is “The Way of the warrior (bushido) is to be found in dying.” Despite its seeming straightforwardness, this sentence is completely open to interpretation. Did Jōchō really mean that warriors should gleefully seize any opportunity to make the ultimate sacrifice? “If one is faced with two options of life or death, simply settle for death. It is not an especially difficult choice; just go forth and meet it confidently.” (1-2) This would suggest that this was, indeed, the case. Conversely, the very next sentence in the text provides a literal and figurative juxtaposition: “Only when you constantly live as though already a corpse (jōjū shinimi) will you be able to find freedom in the martial Way, and fulfill your duties without fault throughout your life.” (1-2) In other words, adherents of bushido should seek to nurture an indomitable fighting spirit free from concerns of life and death.
Within the context of yeomanly service (hōkō) and daily duties, bushido also implies commitment, perseverance, and devotedness. In this sense, the ideal of death can also be interpreted as a selfless application to service in the leader-follower relationship of vassalage, and the correct mind-set required. Consequently, as well as being a declaration of “death over life” in the literal sense, it also implies the nuance of “live as if dead,” where each and every second of one’s life is a precious, unrepeatable moment, and should never be used in vain.
The following passage confirms this. “With regards to the way of death, if you are prepared to die at any time, you will be able to meet your release from life with equanimity. As calamities are usually not as bad as anticipated beforehand, it is foolhardy to feel anxiety about tribulations not yet endured. Just accept that the worst possible fate for a man in service is to become a rōnin, or death by seppuku. Then nothing will faze you.” (1-92) That is to say, as long as one knows that the most appalling thing that can happen is disassociation from one’s raison d’être or death, then one should be able to live an uninhibited and productive life before meeting death in a dignified manner. Hagakure professes that life is a set that is completed by death; they are inextricably linked, and the nobler the death, the better the life it was. Furthermore, a noble death is the result of living life as if one were already dead.
This is an almost existential attitude, and Jōchō advocates not becoming confused in the face of a meaningless or absurd world. “Are men not like masterfully controlled puppets? It is magnificent craftsmanship that allows us to walk, jump, prance, and speak even though there are no strings attached. We may be guests at next year’s Bon festival. We forget it is an ephemeral world in which we live.” (2-45) For this reason, living with single-minded resolve (ichinen) and becoming a heroic warrior, the all-reliable supreme samurai referred to as kusemono, is the only way to liberate one’s self and add meaning in this fleeting existence.
But still, Hagakure is fraught with contradictory messages about death and service which cause confusion. Although the Tokugawa period was an epoch of relative stability, and warriors would rarely if ever smell the stench of death in their nostrils on the battlefield, there was always an undercurrent of honor-fuelled tension ready to erupt into fatal clashes of violence in the course of daily life. Hagakure abounds with stories of fights which generally extol the actions of warriors who unflinchingly despatch their foe in spite of the impending dire consequences of seppuku, or even the disgrace of execution as punishment for breaking the law.
For example, a story in Book 10 relays an incident in Kyoto in which a samurai hears from a passer-by that one of his peers is involved in a brawl. He rushes to the scene to find he is about to be finished off, so he charges in with suicidal intent, and kills the two attackers. He is arrested and tried by the Kyoto magistrate. In his defense he says, “I was told ‘your colleague is in a fight,’ and thought it would dishonor the military way if I ignored the situation. That is why I dashed to the scene. What’s more, it would have been unforgivable had I done nothing after witnessing the murder of a fellow clansman. I would extend the duration of my own life, but the spirit of bushido would perish in me. Thus, I dispensed with my cherished life to preserve the Way of the samurai. By forfeiting my life, I have observed the law of the samurai and upheld the warrior spirit. I have already laid down my life, and therefore humbly request that my punishment be meted out swiftly.” (10-63) Following this statement, the magistrate released him, and sent notice to his lord: “Your retainer is a praiseworthy fellow and should be treasured.”
On the other hand though, in another story contained in Hagakure, seeking a peaceful resolution is the recommended course of action for a samurai to take. It tells of two warriors meeting on a one-lane bridge, both refusing to give way to the other and threatening to resolve the situation with sword diplomacy. Then, a lowly radish seller comes between the two warriors and, “catching each one on either end of his shoulder carrying pole, picks them up and spins them around to the opposite ends of the bridge.” It is concluded that “There are many ways of solving problems, and this counts as constructive service to one’s lord. It is most unfortunate to see precious retainers die needlessly, or create needless discord.” (2-124)
Some passages advise that the warrior should be reserved and discreet when offering counsel to his lord. “If admonishment and opinions are not communicated carefully with a spirit of accord, it will amount to nothing. Insensitive protests will cause umbrage, and even simple problems will not be resolved.” (1-152) At the same time, Jōchō encourages samurai to actively seek recognition in the quest for honor and glory. “A samurai who does not care much for his reputation tends to be contrary, is conceited, and good-for-nothing. He is inferior to a samurai who craves glory, and is thus completely unusable.” (1-154) Or, “In matters of military prowess, train with all of your might to never be surpassed by others, and think to yourself, ‘My valor is beyond compare.’ ” (1-161)
Similarly, warriors are encouraged to vicariously support others to benefit the clan as a whole. For example: “It is an act of loyalty to educate others to become