The Samurai and the Sphinx
There’s a story behind every photograph. Some photos aren’t interesting to everyone, whether that’s Aunt Jenny at the Hootenanny, or Uncle Jim at the Barn-Raising. Others are fascinating for the sheer fact that they exist at all. Take the above Samurai Posing by the Sphinx, shot in 1863.
Wow.
Just wow.
All we need now are some ninjas, and this photo achieves transcendence. There may be ninjas there already. I’m told there are three in this article!
How many stories could you tell without actually knowing the history behind a photo? Even a photo that you might think has been shopped to, say, put samurai in Egypt in front of the Sphinx?
Fun note: it’s 100% legit.
This is a shot of the Second Japanese Embassy to Europe, also called the Ikeda mission. The First Embassy had come the year before in 1862, sent by the Tokugawa Shogunate with a mission mostly to delay the opening of Japanese cities to foreign visitors and trade. They were mostly successful. The 1863 mission for the samurai who were pictured at the Sphinx, was similar in nature. The head of the mission, Ikeda Nagaoki, was a young, good-looking samurai, and reasonably intelligent man. He was the governor of several small villages of Ibara, Bitchū Province (Okayama Prefecture).
His job was to negotiate the cancellation or postponement of the opening of Yokohama port. There’s A LOT of history to cover here, but essentially, the Tokugawa Shogunate didn’t have quite the hold on all of Japan as history would have us believe. Following the forced opening of Japan by Admiral Perry in 1853, many daimyo — Japanese lords — wanted a return to sakoku, the Japanese isolationist policy. This desire resulted in a great deal of friction and animosity between the Japanese in various provinces, and the “barbarians” stomping their way around the carefully curated Japanese society, giving orders to daimyo, and insisting on trade and safe travel.
In the summer of 1863, a brief de facto war broke out when the rebel Choshu clan began shooting at everyone not Japanese who sailed through their area of control: the U.S., French, and Dutch. U.S. and French frigates pounded the outdated and inexperienced Japanese forces, with French marines landing and storming several villages. Losses occurred on both sides, and diplomacy became strained.
Despite all this, Nagakoi and his mission were ordered to go, and go they went. The mission was doomed before it even left. Perry’s efforts a decade previously was the proverbial camel’s nose under the tent — there was no going back. Yokohama was considered a floodgate for Western arrivals to Japan, and a key to trade in the region. Far from wanting it closed, Europeans wanted greater access to Japan. There would be many growing pains, but the Shogunate had signed the treaties to open Japan, and they were adamant about putting down any rebellions such as those instigated by the Choshu clan.
On the way to France, Nagakoi and his fellow samurai visited Egypt, where the members of the mission were photographed posing before the Sphinx by Antonio Beato (whose signature appears on the photo), brother of the famous photographer Felice Beato. While they undoubtedly enjoyed high status and great respect from the various French leaders that they met with, ultimately the mission couldn’t, and didn’t, succeed.
But that’s not the end for Ikeda Nagaoki. He was so impressed with French advancements that he became something of an advocate. He brought back a library of books containing a wealth of knowledge. He tried to encourage Japanese students to travel to Europe, seeing the value of understanding Western civilization and technological advances. In addition, he brought back French wine, and started up his own winery.
Today, he is considered the father of the Japanese wine industry. Not bad for an internationally travelled samurai who tried to close down Japan, only to reverse course and embrace the idea of multiculturalism to better serve his country.
