Category Archives: economics

by Joel | 30 June 2025 · 1:13 pm

King Kazimierz III the Great

From Poland: The First Thousand Years, by Patrice M. Dabrowski (Cornell University Press, 2014), Kindle pp. 62-63:

King Kazimierz III the Great encouraged Jewish settlement in the Polish lands. The recent incidence of the so-called Black Death in Europe’s west had led Jews there to be turned into scapegoats, leading many to flee eastward. Kazimierz’s reception of the Jewish communities led some even to label him “king of the Jews”—and led Jews to revere his name. In charters granted in 1334, 1364, and 1367, Kazimierz made it clear that Jews were subjects of the Crown, and as such they were protected by it.

Kazimierz was a nearly model medieval monarch. He did more than consolidate and make secure the country’s expanding borders and provide for further economic development. He truly established the Corona Regni Poloniae—the Crown of the Polish Kingdom. No longer were the Polish lands simply the property of the Piast dynasty. As the Crown of the Polish Kingdom, they existed independently, outside the person of the monarch. In this way, one can see parallels between the formation of other states in the region. The united Bohemian lands were also referred to as the Crown of Saint Wenceslas, which Charles IV declared distinct from the fate of the Luxemburg dynasty; a similar understanding took hold in Hungary, which was also known as the Lands of the Crown of Saint Stephen.

Kazimierz drew up a number of statutes that would help shape the administration of the state, especially insofar as laws and the functioning of a judiciary were concerned. He also upheld the country’s defense. Even today, any Polish child can recite the ditty (unpoetically rendered here) that Kazimierz “inherited wooden towns and left them fortified with stone and brick” (Kazimierz miasta zastał drewniane i zostawił murowane). The country underwent a great program of construction. It was funded in part by a land tax paid by peasants (who nonetheless had a favorable view of the monarch, who was also known as “king of the peasants”), in part by income that came from the rich salt mines of Wieliczka and Bochnia in the south of the country. (Even today, the salt mine at Wieliczka—quite a tourist destination—is a testament to the technological feat undertaken in this early period.) Growing exports and tax revenues funded the construction of some fifty castles, and fortification walls were supplied to nearly another thirty towns.

Another major and far-sighted achievement of King Kazimierz the Great was his establishment, in 1364, of a studium generale (variously titled an academy or a university) in his capital of Kraków. Pope Urban V gave his permission for instruction to be provided in canon and civil law and all other faculties except for theology. Nonetheless, Kazimierz’s academy was a secular institution, like the universities of Padua and Bologna. Its establishment boded well for education in the Polish lands. Furthermore, it was a rare distinction in this part of the world: in Central Europe, only Prague can boast of having obtained a university earlier.

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by Joel | 27 June 2025 · 6:01 am

How Ryukyu Became Less Japanese

From Maritime Ryukyu, 1050–1650, by Gregory Smits (University of Hawaii Press, 2018), Kindle pp. 400-403:

Migration was the driving force in early Ryukyuan history. The initial king of the first Shō dynasty, Shō Shishō, may have been a first-generation immigrant to Okinawa. Moving ahead to the early seventeenth century, Yamazaki Nikyū [Morizō, 山崎二休守三, not “Nikyūshuzan”!], Kian Nyūdō, and Sōmi Nyūdō were examples of first-generation Japanese immigrants to Ryukyu who served Shō Nei….

Were language barriers significant in the Ryukyu islands or between Ryukyu and Kyushu? Probably, although these barriers are difficult to map from documentary sources. Moreover, sociolinguistic circumstances were probably significant. For example, the two Ryukyuan envoys to Satsuma in 1575 could make themselves understood only with difficulty and therefore had to use interpreters to facilitate negotiations. Those interpreters were sailors. Recall the difficulty that Chinese-employed interpreters experienced during the 1590s distinguishing between Ryukyuan and Japanese sailors on cultural grounds, including language (see chapter 13). It suggests that, at least among seafarers, sharp cultural differences between Japanese and Ryukyuans had yet to emerge. Based on the limited evidence appearing in these pages, there may have been few sharp cultural dividing lines between the Ryukyu islands and maritime regions of Kyushu, even as late as circa 1600. Government officials in Naha and Kagoshima may not have been able to converse freely in 1550, but sailors in the region and Buddhist priests probably would have experienced fewer difficulties. Insofar as cultural barriers remained relatively small across the region through the sixteenth century, the circulation of people must have played a key role.

Closed-off Ryukyu

We know that a significant cultural divide existed between “Ryukyu,” however defined, and Japan circa 1900. If my hypothesis that this divide was present but relatively minor around 1600 is correct, then how did a significant cultural divide develop over the relatively short span of approximately three centuries? Stated differently, what accelerated the rate of cultural change in Ryukyu? There were probably three major contributing factors. The most important was the cessation of the flow of people. During the early seventeenth century, Ryukyu became part of the Shimazu territories, and the practical effect of this change was for it to be closed off from the rest of Japan. The diverse wajin community or communities in the Naha area faded into the broader society. Satsuma prohibited Japanese from traveling to or residing in Ryukyu except for one Satsuma official and his small staff, who kept a low profile, and occasional ship crews from Satsuma, whose range of motion on shore was restricted. At approximately the same time that Satsuma severely restricted the flow of people into and out of Ryukyu, the bakufu was doing the same thing with respect to Japan as a whole. The boundaries of Japan and of Ryukyu became clearer than they had ever been before, and also distinct from each other.

Cultural Policies

Another contributor to the acceleration of cultural divergence were active de-Japanification policies. Satsuma initiated these policies, but Ryukyuan officials carried them out with vigor because they were connected to the very survival of the kingdom. After the failure of bakufu attempts to forge a diplomatic relationship with China in 1615, Satsuma began to fashion Ryukyu into an ostensibly independent country that could serve as a conduit to China. Maintaining the China connection became essential to the continued survival of the Shuri royal court and its officials. In this context, Kumemura, which had been languishing for a century or so, became a magnet for talent throughout the capital area during the latter half of the seventeenth century. Knowledge of Chinese high culture gradually improved among the Ryukyuan elites, some of whom took Chinese names and relocated to Kumemura. The modern notion that Ryukyu was culturally Chinese stems from these early modern circumstances.

Specific de-Japanification policies were intended, not as attempts deeply to transform people’s cultural identity, but to ensure a plausible non-Japanese appearance for Ryukyu in Chinese eyes. Regulations forbade Ryukyuans to appear as Japanese with respect to names, clothing, hairstyle, and language. Similarly, Ryukyuan ships no longer received a -maru name. After the 1620s, Shuri went to great lengths to mask any ties with Japan when Chinese investiture envoys were in Okinawa or when Okinawans were in China. When a disabled Ryukyuan ship drifted toward the Shāndōng coast in 1673, for example, its crew threw all Japanese items overboard. In Miyako, an overseer from Shuri arrived in 1629, in part to ensure that no Japanese language, songs, clothing, names, or other ties to Yamato would be evident when there was even a remote a possibility of any Miyako resident encountering Chinese (for example, when investiture embassies were at sea).

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by Joel | 25 June 2025 · 3:53 pm

Why Satsuma Invaded Ryukyus in 1609

From Maritime Ryukyu, 1050–1650, by Gregory Smits (University of Hawaii Press, 2018), Kindle pp. 358-360:

The war of 1609 had several causes, but the overwhelmingly important one was Ryukyu’s refusal to serve as an intermediary between the Tokugawa bakufu and the Ming court. At this point, we have sufficient information to understand the basic reason for what might otherwise seem like an irrational policy. Shō Nei’s bending to pressure from Shimazu and Hideyoshi probably prompted an armed revolt in 1592. The Chinese decisions to hold the investiture ceremonies in Fujian and, later, to send a military official might well have been justifiable as wartime expedients. However, from the standpoint of the Ryukyuan court—Shō Nei, his supporters, and his enemies—such measures appeared to be a reprimand for Shō Nei’s having supported Hideyoshi’s invasion. The year 1593 was a turning point. After that, Shō Nei became determined never again to appear as an agent of any Japanese polity.

The massive Ming resistance to Hideyoshi’s invasions of Korea also played a psychological role. From a Ryukyuan perspective, it appeared that the Ming court would go to war for its tributary states. As we will see, leading Ryukyuan officials apparently became convinced that China would back Ryukyu in a military conflict, that Ryukyu was too geographically dispersed and remote for Shimazu successfully to launch an invasion, and that Ryukyu’s deity, Benzaiten, would protect the kingdom.

THE REGIONAL GEOPOLITICAL SITUATION AFTER 1598

Control of piracy was an issue of much concern during the late sixteenth century. Hideyoshi, Shimazu, and the council that succeeded Hideyoshi in 1598 issued prohibitions against piracy and demanded active cooperation by Ryukyu in this endeavor. Moreover, very soon after Hideyoshi’s death, Shimazu and other powerful lords in Japan sought to establish trade relations with Ming China. Shimazu may have come close to succeeding. The domain enlisted the Bōnotsu merchant Torihara Sōan to head an expedition to repatriate captured Ming general Máo Guókē. According to Satsuma’s account, Torihara traveled all the way to Beijing in 1600, and the Chinese court promised to send two ships to Satsuma each year. In 1601, the ships sailed, but pirates attacked and destroyed them in the vicinity of Iōjima in the Satsunan islands. Key details concerning these events are not clear.

For our purposes, the main point is that after Hideyoshi’s death leaders of Japan vigorously pursued paths to reestablish good relations with China, and the Shimazu lords understood the importance of this opportunity. Ryukyu’s location made it an integral part of the process. From the standpoint of Shimazu or Tokugawa Ieyasu, the ideal option was that Ryukyu actively cooperate in suppressing piracy and restoring Sino-Japanese trade. The less desirable option was to use coercive force in an attempt to compel such cooperation. Ryukyu’s continued resistance to Satsuma and bakufu entreaties to assist in restoring relations with Ming China eventually tipped the scales in favor of military action.

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by Joel | 21 June 2025 · 4:49 pm

Ryukyu Seacraft

From Maritime Ryukyu, 1050–1650, by Gregory Smits (University of Hawaii Press, 2018), Kindle pp. 288-291:

During period two [1450-1520s], Ryukyu continued to obtain vessels from China. However, instead of receiving used military vessels for free, Ryukyu bore the costs of vessel construction and subsequent repairs. Ship size did not change, an indirect indication of the continuing vigor of the tribute trade. During this period and the previous one, each ship received a single-character name such as “vigor,” “wisdom,” “courage,” or “longevity” at the shipyard when built. After arriving in Ryukyu, the ship received a Japanese name ending in -maru. Probably from around the late fifteenth century onward, ships also received a Ryukyuan name ending in -tomi. These names of ships are found in the Omoro, and vessels appearing in the songs would usually have had alternative Chinese and Japanese names.

…

During this period [1520s-ca. 1570], the Ryukyuan fleet continued to consist of relatively small ships, possibly even smaller than before. The question is whether Ryukyu continued to purchase ships from China or whether it built its own. The first ship of the designation “small ships of [our?] country” (honkoku shōsen) appears in documents in 1541, and ships with this description, as well as other terms with “small” in them, were common from 1549 onward. Okamoto and Tomiyama Kazuyuki regard these ships as having been made in China. However, it is likely that they were civilian merchant ships. Tomiyama points out that in 1555 Shō Sei asked to purchase such a ship from the Ming court with the express proviso that “it need not be large.” By contrast, Mamoru Akamine states that during Shō Sei’s reign (1527–1555), “the shipbuilding industry shifted to Ryukyu itself and Ryukyuan-built hulls came to be used in the tribute trade.” Recall from chapter 3 that Ikuta Shigeru also regarded the smaller ships built after 1548 as Ryukyuan-made vessels.

We cannot be absolutely certain where ships were made during this period or precisely when the first Okinawan-made ship (other than vessels of a relatively simple dugout design) was built. Nevertheless, Okamoto and Tomiyama present good evidence that the 1540s or 1550s marked a transition from smaller military ships to somewhat smaller Chinese-made merchant ships as the mainstay of Ryukyu’s fleet. It is likely that the first Okinawan-made ships used in trade and diplomacy were built in the 1570s, during the reign of Shō Ei (r. 1573–1586). In documents, these ships are called “local ships” (tsuchibune), “small ships,” and possibly by other terms.

…

As we have seen, Omoro songs often mention ships. One describes the ship of an elite lord (aji) as having a cloth sail and the ship of a low official as having a sail made from matting. The details of local boat and ship manufacturing in the Ryukyu islands are unclear in most cases. However, extrapolating backward from the early modern era and piecing together other information such as the omoro mentioned here, it is almost certain that early Ryukyuans manufactured boats and small ships (known by sabani and other terms). These were dug out from large trees to form canoe-like hulls that could be rowed or sailed. Tying four of these hulls together and placing boards across the top created a henzabune, which during the early modern era were sometimes used to transport liquor (awamori) to Amami-Ōshima and return with as many as eight head of cattle. It is almost certain that Ryukyuans manufactured a variety of dugout vessels for use in local and island-to-island transport between Okinawa, Amami-Ōshima, and other northern Ryukyu islands.

Did Ryukyuans manufacture ships more complex than dugout vessels before the 1570s? A shipbuilding tradition in Uruka in Miyako began in approximately the early fifteenth century and continued into the early modern era. These Uruka ships (Uruka-miuni) were built mainly in the Japanese manner by attaching two layers of planks to a keel, with the mast located in the middle of the ship and capable of being lowered during severe weather. Uruka ships conducted trade and transported tribute shipments across the Kerama gap to Okinawa, and Inamura Kenpu regards them as part of the wakō legacy in Sakishima. There is some evidence that mariners from Miyako were able to sail as far as Southeast Asia during the fourteenth century.

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by Joel | 17 June 2025 · 8:27 am

Ryukyu’s Golden Age

From Maritime Ryukyu, 1050–1650, by Gregory Smits (University of Hawaii Press, 2018), Kindle pp. 221-222:

Survey histories tend to treat Shō Shin’s long reign as an idyllic age. Ryukyu prospered as an international trade hub, peacefully engaging in commerce throughout a large part of the world. Trade wealth contributed to cultural vitality. Shō Shin ushered in Ryukyu’s golden age, the “Great Days of Chuzan,” in the oft-repeated words of George H. Kerr. The empire Shō Shin created was indeed larger, wealthier, and more powerful than any previous iteration of Ryukyu. The institutional framework that Shō Shin initiated and Shō Sei completed lasted until 1879 and even later. Shō Shin was Ryukyu’s most important king by almost any definition. Why, then, is the man who brought about the Great Days of Chūzan missing in Reflections on Chūzan?

Reflections is organized in de facto chapters, most corresponding to a royal reign. There are chapters for many of the actual and legendary kings before Shō Hashi, for the first Shō dynasty kings (except Shishō), one for Shō En, and even one for the brief reign of Shō Sen’i. The chapter after his jumps to Shō Sei, skipping Shō Shin. The 1701 Genealogy of Chūzan includes a brief chapter on Shō Shin, even though ostensibly the 1701 Genealogy was simply a Chinese translation of Reflections. Likewise, the 1725 Genealogy includes a chapter on Shō Shin, and there are extensive Kyūyō entries covering the events of his reign. Is it possible that his chapter was irretrievably lost in our extant editions of Reflections? Yes, but it is unlikely that a chapter of such importance would disappear without any comment or attempt to reconstitute it later from Genealogy.

Throughout his reign Shō Shin worked to consolidate power. Military conquest was essential, of course, but so too was what we might call “soft power.” The king and his officials erected temples, shrines, monuments, stands of trees, and other structures not only to proclaim the glory of royal rule but also to create a new political geography, with Shuri as the undisputed and comprehensive center of a Ryukyuan empire. Shō Shin also worked to erase, minimize, or transform the legacies of potentially problematic predecessors, of which there were several. His reign was prosperous, and it was a time of momentous change. One price for this prosperity and change was bloodshed on a scale greater than that under any predecessor. Moreover, internal family problems and questions of legitimacy dogged Shō Shin, and to some extent the entire line down to Shō Nei. These points probably explain why Shō Shin is missing, for the most part, from Reflections: his reign included too many skeletons in too many closets.

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by Joel | 14 June 2025 · 3:42 pm

Ryukyu Exports to Ming China

From Maritime Ryukyu, 1050–1650, by Gregory Smits (University of Hawaii Press, 2018), Kindle pp. 115, 122-124:

By the late fourteenth century gunpowder weapons had become crucial in warfare. The Hóngwǔ emperor, “the gunpowder emperor” according to Tonio Andrade, embraced this powerful technology. “The extraordinary success of the Ming dynasty,” argues Andrade, “was based on the effective use of guns.” Sulfur was a key ingredient in gunpowder. Japan produced it in abundance, especially in and around Kyushu. China possessed abundant potassium nitrate (saltpeter) but lacked sulfur in a form that was readily usable. Therefore, sulfur had great profit potential as a trade item.

…

The frequency of tribute trade increased dramatically after 1383. Total Ryukyuan tribute trade, including the number of embassies per year, number of ships, and quantity of goods, reached a peak during the 1420s and 1430s. Subsequently, it began a gradual decline, followed by a sharp decline during the 1520s.

No single metric captures the entire picture of official trade. The number of tribute missions per year is one possible measure, but each mission might consist of variable numbers and sizes of ships with different mixes of cargo. It is more useful to measure the quantity of sulfur, an item shipped with each tribute voyage. Ryukyu had access to a steady supply of sulfur from the island of Iōtorishima [Sulfur Bird Island]. Here, I follow Ikuta Shigeru’s analysis, with quantities derived from Rekidai hōan documents. Ikuta divides Ryukyuan tribute trade into seven periods, each based on significant changes in circumstances affecting the trade.

Period two was the approximate peak of Ryukyu’s tribute trade. The average annual shipment of sulfur to China on Ryukyuan tribute vessels during this time was 38,013 jīn. Using this quantity as 100 percent, table 1 shows the decline in Ryukyuan sulfur shipments to China relative to each immediate previous period and to period two, the peak of trade. Period three marks the start of Ming-imposed restrictions on Ryukyu’s tribute trade, the most important of which was limiting tribute missions to one per year. By 1440, once per year was already the typical frequency, so the practical impact on trade volume was small.

…

Sulfur and horses help illuminate the maritime network in which Ryukyu was embedded and the role of wakō. Ryukyu’s tribute cargo of sulfur was not simply a token. Elemental sulfur was scarce in China, requiring that it be manufactured from pyrite, an iron sulfide. During the Ming dynasty “the number of areas producing pyrite-derived sulfur greatly increased. Ming dynasty documents (1564) mention that the emperor allowed the central and four local governments to buy about 10,000 jin of sulfur per year to replenish their supplies for gunpowder manufacture.”

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by Joel | 13 June 2025 · 4:31 am

When Ryukyu Became a State

From Maritime Ryukyu, 1050–1650, by Gregory Smits (University of Hawaii Press, 2018), Kindle pp. 130-133:

Ryukyu became a formal state in the East Asian international order because of Ming policy to tame the region’s wakō and the related Maritime Prohibitions. When Yáng Zài traveled to Naha in 1372, Okinawa was an island governed by dozens of local lords. Although many or all of them engaged in private trade, none of them would have been capable of conducting formal tribute trade on their own. The lord of Urasoe became “king” for tribute purposes. Satto, the kings who followed him, and the kings associated with the northern and southern principalities, profited from the situation. Ryukyuan ships began sailing to Southeast Asia, typically via Fuzhou, but they did so in Chinese-made ships with Chinese captains guided by Chinese pilots and supported by Chinese interpreters. Similarly, as we have seen, Ryukyuan ships sailing to Korea were typically Japanese vessels commanded and piloted by Japanese or by mariners of mixed Korean and Japanese origins. Ships sailed to destinations in China, Southeast Asia, and Korea under the auspices of a Ryukyuan king, and Naha served as an international port. Ryukyuans were actively involved in this maritime activity, but the common image of Ryukyuan mariners independently sailing to a variety of far-flung kingdoms requires some modification. In many respects, during the late fourteenth century and well into the fifteenth, “Ryukyu” functioned much like a shipping company. Its two largest clients were the Ming court supported by Chinese living in Naha and the Ashikaga shoguns aided by Sakai [Osaka] merchants.

…

Citing research by Akamine Seiki demonstrating that Ryukyu did not conduct independent trade with Southeast Asia, a hypothesis by Ōta Ryōhaku that Chinese merchants in Naha constituted a shadow government that held the real power in early Ryukyu, and the relatively inferior quality of native Ryukyuan ships, Irei Takashi lamented that the image of Ryukyu’s “golden age” as a prosperous, independent maritime kingdom appears to be an illusion. In light of Ryukyu’s early modern and modern history of having been controlled by outside powers, Irei concludes, “That the ‘golden age’ was a falsehood is indeed a gloomy matter, but thinking about the storms of outside pressure that have scoured this cluster of islands, it is something we must accept.” Irei’s essay addresses the emotive impact for many contemporary people of the idealized image of early Ryukyu.

Early Ryukyu was not an illusion, but its history was more complex than … the official histories, or many modern accounts acknowledge. One point to underscore is that although early Ryukyu was never formally part of any other country, it was not a de facto country itself until well into the reign of Shō Shin. Early Ryukyu was a frontier region within the East China Sea network generally and Japan in particular. Until the sixteenth century, there was no Okinawa-wide or Ryukyu-wide government, little or no literary culture outside of a few Buddhist temples, and there was a high level of internecine violence. Ryukyu did eventually become a centralized state and a far-flung empire. Moreover, from roughly 1510 to 1550, this Ryukyu empire enjoyed significant power and wealth. We could reasonably call this period a “golden” age, although it was fairly short and was more golden for some Ryukyuans than for others.

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by Joel | 12 June 2025 · 5:13 am

Heyday of Piracy in Japan & Korea

From Maritime Ryukyu, 1050–1650, by Gregory Smits (University of Hawaii Press, 2018), Kindle pp. 84-88:

A crucial context for the development of Ryukyu was the warfare between Japan’s Northern and Southern Courts, especially in Kyushu. Wakō attacks on the Korean coast intensified in 1350 and continued for decades. Attacks occurred on a large scale, sometimes involving hundreds of ships and thousands of combatants. The most intense period of wakō marauding was from 1375 to 1388. Some scholars point to lack of agricultural productivity in the classic wakō havens as a major reason for these depredations. Paddy land, for example, comprised only 3 percent of Tsushima. Similarly, poverty was also a severe problem in Kyushu at this time. Given the massive scale of wakō attacks, however, another impetus was the need for grain to supply Southern Court armies. Prince Kaneyoshi, the court’s leader in Kyushu, actively collaborated with wakō toward this end. In other words, wakō based near the coast of Higo [Kumamoto area] and at Tsushima, Iki, and Matsuura supported Prince Kaneyoshi and his Southern Court by providing needed supplies, plundered from Korea. In return, Kaneyoshi provided protection for the wakō. In contrast, Kyūshū tandai Imagawa Ryōshun, head of the Northern Court in Kyushu, sought to suppress wakō piracy.

Envoys from Korea traveled to Japan in an effort to stem the tide of piracy, the first of whom arrived at Kyoto in 1366. The Muromachi bakufu sought good relations with Korea, but its control over Kyushu was limited at the time. The piracy problem prompted the bakufu to pursue military pacification of Kyushu. It eventually succeeded, but the Southern Court wakō became even more active during the 1370s, prompting the following 1375 message from the bakufu to the Korean court via the Tenryūji priest Tokusō Shūsa: “Kyushu is broken apart by rebelling subjects and does not pay tribute; the stubborn subjects of the Western seacoast have become pirates. But these are not the doing of the bakufu. We are planning to dispatch a general to Kyushu to pacify the area and can promise to suppress the pirates.” Success in carrying out this promise required more than fifteen years. Southern Court wakō also attacked China, albeit less frequently. While the Korean court had obvious reasons to be gravely concerned with putting a stop to the wakō attacks, the reasons for the similarly intense concern by the Hóngwǔ emperor require further explanation. …

It is possible that the Korean court misunderstood the contours of political power in Japan at the time, especially the Seiseifu–wakō connection. By contrast, the Ming court dealt directly with Prince Kaneyoshi, attempting to make him into king of Japan. Some scholars have taken this move as a sign that Ming officials did not understand Japan’s internal conditions. However, it is more likely that the Ming court knew exactly who controlled the wakō and thus initially focused on Kaneyoshi.

The basic timeline of the rise and fall of the Southern Court in Kyushu begins in 1348 with a castle on the Higo coast near Yatsushiro that had two names, Hanaoka castle or Sashiki castle. It was in the territory of the Nawa family, who provided naval forces for the Southern Court. Seiseifu [征西府 ‘subjugation of the west’] headquarters moved around Kyushu with the changing tides of war. Seiseifu occupied the same space as the old Dazaifu between 1360 and 1372, the peak of Southern Court power. It relocated to Kikuchi in the mountains of Higo until 1381. … The Southern Court reunited with the Northern Court in 1392 ….

The defeat of the Southern Court in Kyushu caused migrations of wakō into the Ryukyu islands. … The collapse of Seiseifu power during the 1380s and 1390s put pressure on the Southern Court wakō in Kyushu to migrate. Moreover, developments in Korea also pressured wakō bands to change their tactics. Analysis of the number and size of wakō attacks compared with what they obtained and the losses they incurred reveals that even during the period 1364–1374, they had begun to experience diminishing returns to scale. The trend continued. The number and size of attacks increased during the 1370s and 1380s, but Korean resistance and evasion resulted in fewer per capita gains. For the most part, the effectiveness of wakō marauding in Korea tracked the rise and decline of Seiseifu. One result of decreasing wakō gains in Korea was an increase in raids on the Chinese coast. An element in this complex mix was increasingly effective Korean defenses, including costal fortifications, coordinated signal beacons using fire, more and better ships, better commanders, and more soldiers along the coast. The founding of the Joseon (Yi) dynasty in 1392 accelerated this process.

By the 1390s Southern Court wakō lost their state sponsors and many of their bases. They could still operate from islands such as Tsushima, but a hostile Muromachi bakufu, improved Korean defenses, and lower demand for the possible spoils of their attacks on Korea had the effect of pushing wakō bands southward. By this time, the busiest harbor in the Ryukyu islands was Naha.

…

The port of Naha served as a major intersection within the East China Sea network through which “pirates, captives, fishermen, divers, envoys, monks, traders, and other people traveled” during the fourteenth through sixteenth centuries. Merchants or wakō in Japan would have found sailing to Naha for trade more practical or more profitable than journeying directly to the coast of China or farther afield. The result was the creation of “a strange relationship of dependency” between Ryukyuan and Japanese merchants.

The first appearance of Ryukyu as a state in Korean records begins with a 1389 statement that an embassy from Ryukyu returned Koreans who had been captured by pirates. The repatriation of captured Koreans recurred frequently thereafter as a reason for Ryukyu-sponsored voyages to Korea. Although the Korean court granted favorable treatment to these embassies, it did not actively encourage trade with Ryukyu. In this context, Korean people were valuable commodities, whose repatriation permitted potentially lucrative trade embassies. Repatriation was not necessarily an act of benevolence. It constituted “one variety of the slave trade.”

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by Joel | 11 June 2025 · 1:31 am

Origins of Ryukyu People & Culture

From Maritime Ryukyu, 1050–1650, by Gregory Smits (University of Hawaii Press, 2018), Kindle pp. 58-61:

The flow of people, culture, and technology into Okinawa, Kumejima, and Sakishima was mainly from north to south. Some of this flow came from Michinoshima, some from Korea, and most of it from Japan, especially western Kyushu and nearby islands. Tanigawa Ken’ichi has metaphorically called it an “attack of northern culture.” Subsequent sections and chapters explore this topic further. Here I mention several physical manifestations of the north-to-south flow.

The climate in Okinawa is not suited to preserving skeletal remains, but there has been sufficient excavation and testing to warrant several conclusions. One is a significant break between the physical structure of prehistoric residents of Okinawa and those of later eras. Okinawan skeletal remains from about the eleventh or twelfth centuries onward begin closely to resemble their counterparts in Japan during the Kamakura and Muromachi periods. As Thomas Pellard points out, “The bearers of Gusuku [castle walls] culture expanded within the whole Ryukyu Archipelago, and preexisting foragers, who were few, simply died out or were assimilated without leaving a significant trace.” Omoro descriptions of the clothing and other aspects of the appearance of local rulers suggest that at least some were direct arrivals from Kamakura-era Japan. Furthermore, excavations of Okinawan weapons and armor reveal that they were the same as those used in Japan during the era of the Northern and Southern Courts (ca. 1335–1392) and the Muromachi period. In general, most military items excavated in Okinawa were made in Japan.

DNA evidence from recent studies is consonant with this situation. Studies of both modern and ancient DNA “tend to show that Ryukyuans form a group closely related to Mainland Japanese.” Moreover, despite geographical proximity, “Southern Ryukyuans do not show any particular affinity with the Austronesian populations of Taiwan, and they form a clear subgroup with Northern Ryukyuans.” Genetic diversity in the Ryukyu islands is relatively low, which indicates a lack of long-term isolation. In other words, the Ryukyu islands were part of a larger network, and the migration from regions to the north that populated the Ryukyu islands and brought Gusuku culture, “agriculture, ceramics, and the Proto-Ryukyuan language,” took place between approximately the tenth and twelfth centuries. Most likely the [turbo] shell trade was the major economic driving force behind much of this migration.

…

Early Okinawa’s ties with China are well known and frequently discussed, whereas ties with northern areas typically receive less attention in survey histories. China played a vital role in early Ryukyuan history as a conduit of material wealth. Nevertheless, prior to the seventeenth century, Chinese high culture had little impact on Ryukyu. Early Ryukyu’s technology (metallurgy, agriculture, weapons), literary and aesthetic culture (including oral traditions), religious culture (including Buddhism), the various Ryukyuan languages, and the vast majority of Ryukyu’s people came from the north. Much of the region’s economic activity also took place north of Okinawa. One additional indication of the interconnectedness of the northern routes was the fact that distinctive Ryukyuan place-names found in the Omoro [ancient poems] were known to Hakata merchants and to Koreans and appeared on their maps.

The Takase-Fujian route mentioned above became popular around the 1340s, diverting maritime traffic from the previous route, a line from Hakata to Níngbō. The new route greatly increased traffic through the southern Ryukyu islands, but smaller-scale private trade, piracy, and smuggling based at locations in Okinawa and points to the southwest had been occurring since the twelfth century and probably earlier.

During the thirteenth century, Chinese ceramics began to appear at major gusuku sites in Okinawa and the southern Ryukyu islands. Fragrant wine and other products from as far away as Thailand and Vietnam also began to make their way into the Ryukyu islands at this time. For example, a four-eared jar from the Khwae Noi River in Thailand was excavated at Nakijin. After the start of formal tribute relations with Ming China in 1372, the material wealth of several major gusuku sites such as Kumejima, Katsuren, Shuri, and Nakijin increased dramatically. Celadon (green ware) ceramic dolls, Buddhist statues, candleholders, and other specialized products have been excavated at these sites, as well as a wide variety of metal goods. China was a source of great wealth, both directly and indirectly. To understand Ming China’s role in the development of Ryukyu, it is necessary to undertake a close study of wakō, the topic of the next chapter.

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Filed under China, economics, Japan, Korea, language, migration, military, Taiwan

by Joel | 3 June 2025 · 4:39 pm

North Vietnam in 1955

From Embers of War: The Fall of an Empire and the Making of America’s Vietnam, by Fredrik Logevall (Random House, 2012), Kindle pp. 797-800:

For Ho and the DRV, the economic problems at year’s end were overwhelming. Most factories in the north were shuttered, and many of the owners had left the country. In Hanoi, foreign journalists reported that scores of restaurants and shops had gone out of business, while in the port city of Haiphong only one of thirty French-owned factories remained open. Fuel for motor vehicles was in short supply, and the railroads were idle. Even more pressing, rice production continued to decline, and floods in December along the central coast raised the specter of major famine. The price of the commodity in the markets skyrocketed. And whereas Tonkin had traditionally been able to rely on the more fertile Cochin China for much of its food, now the Saigon government blocked economic exchange between the two zones. In 1955, only emergency rice imports from Burma, financed by the Soviet Union, prevented a recurrence of the disastrous famine of 1945. Nor did it help the economic recovery that many urban professionals and shopkeepers and Catholics—fearing what Communism would bring—fled to the south.

At first, the government moved cautiously as it grappled with these problems. To reassure well-to-do farmers and the urban bourgeoisie, it initially vowed to respect private property and religious freedom. To Sainteny and members of the ICC, it continued to pledge support for the Geneva Accords and a desire to maintain harmonious relations with neighboring countries. But much as in China, where an initial policy of moderation in 1949–50 was followed by much harsher measures, officials in short order adopted more radical approaches.

The centerpiece was an ambitious land reform program first implemented in liberated areas of the north in late 1953 and now expanded to cover the whole of North Vietnam. The aim was to alleviate food shortages (the 1945 famine was still fresh in the mind) and break the power of the large landowners—to bring about, as the regime put it, equality for the greatest number among the rural masses—and over the long term it achieved considerable results in this regard. But the cost was immense. Instead of offering incentives to the people to spur production, doctrinaire officials categorized people in five groups, from “landlord” to “farm worker,” then sent platoons of cadres to arraign the landlords and other “feudal elements” in what were called “agricultural reform tribunals.” In reality, however, the distinction between social categories was not always clear, and many families of modest means saw their land seized. Small landholders were classified as large ones. Panic set in. Fearful of arbitrary indictment, peasants trumped up charges against their neighbors, while others accused their rivals of imaginary crimes. Anyone suspected of having worked for the French was subject to execution as a “traitor.” Others were condemned merely for showing insufficient zeal and ardor for the Viet Minh.

…

Executions became commonplace, though the scale of the killing is still unclear—estimates have run as high as 50,000 victims, but more credible assessments put the figure between 3,000 and 15,000. Thousands more were interned in forced labor camps. Most of the victims were innocent, at least of the stated charges. Ho Chi Minh, it seems, knew about the arbitrary persecution and violence but did little to prevent it. When Mrs. Nguyen Thi Nam, an important landlord and Viet Minh sympathizer, was condemned to death by a people’s tribunal and executed, Ho expressed frustration but did little more. “The French say that one should never hit a woman, even with a flower,” he reportedly declared, “and you, you allowed her to be shot!” Later, on February 8, 1955, Ho used the occasion of a conference on the land reform to condemn the use of torture and humiliation: “Some cadres are using the same methods to crush the masses as the imperialists, capitalists, and feudalists did. These methods are barbaric.… It is absolutely forbidden to use physical punishment.”

Some did not get the message, or did and ignored it. The brutal actions continued. In August 1956, Ho Chi Minh issued a public acknowledgment that “errors have been committed,” and he promised that “those who have been wrongly classified as landlords and rich peasants will be correctly reclassified.” Other officials dutifully echoed his admission, disclosing that even loyal Viet Minh veterans had been wrongly tried and executed. Truong Chinh, general secretary of the party and a key proponent of the program, was relieved of his post, as were other senior officials, including the minister of agriculture. The tribunals were ended. These measures helped reduce the tensions but not fully—late in the year in coastal Nghe An province, where Ho was born and raised, farmers in one district openly rioted, requiring the dispatch of government troops to restore order. In Hanoi, meanwhile, intellectuals chafed under what they saw as authoritarian state cultural policies.