Reverie before Osaka Castle > IDEAS & IDEALS

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 "Everything's a dream;
                 Man's ambition is a dream of dreams:
                 With the big Osaka in my mind,
                 I must disappear like a dew."
                                            Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1536? -1598)

     To the eyes of the foreign tourists touring Japan, Osaka Castle is certainly another object of wonder and admiration, among so many, with its grand scale, unique architectural beauty and intriguing history. Constructed as a palace of the ruling lord, surrounded by the moat and fortified by so many turrets at every corner of the bailey against the enemy attacks, it is like the medieval European castles in concept, but with unique Japanese style in design. For the most Koreans, who are only familiar with the fortified walls along the mountain ridge, like the Great Wall of China, the Osaka Castle is thought-provoking in many ways.

     But there is something more about the Castle of Osaka that makes some Koreans feel heavy and uneasy, and unable to enjoy and appreciate this remarkable cultural heritage with light mind and curious eyes only as the other tourists do from any other part of the world. Along with the Castle the Koreans are inevitably reminded of the familiar but not lovely name, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who had ordered this castle to be built in 1583 and saw its completion in 1598 when he died. Bringing the century-long civil wars to a close by subjugating all the warring clans, Toyotomi Hideyoshi emerged as the most powerful ruler of Japan, whose Osaka Castle was a symbol of his absolute power and success.

     This great ruler of Japan is, very unfortunately, identified, for all Koreans, with the very scourge of war. After having united Japan he ordered his soldiers of 150,000 to invade Korea in 1592. The war lasted 7 years during which Korea was completely devastated. One-third of the population was perished. Nearly all of the cultural treasures and historical heritages, as much valuable, grand, and beautiful as the Osaka Castle, were burned down to ashes, ransacked, destroyed, robbed, stolen and carried to Japan. So many scholars, artists and craftsmen were captured and sent to Japan as prisoners of war, never to return. In a word, it was an unrecoverable loss and a fatal blow in which Yi Dynasty struggled to stand again, but staggered, and finally fell to Japan in 1910 as its colony.

     Upon approaching the castle I was impressed deeply first by the sharp angularity of the corners of the bailey rising from the blue water of the moat to the bottom of the turrets. Each of them looked sharp enough to cut my fingers, if I felt my hand on it, although the stones used were all irregular in size and shape. Entering the front gate, I was quite struck again by so many amazingly huge stones consisting of the inner walls, including the giant 'Octopus Stone' measuring 59.43 square meters (11.7 by 5.5 meters) and weighing 130 tons. The simple fact that all these stones were cut somewhere far from the site of the castle and moved over here by sheer manpower was a clear testimony to the superb engineering skill of the day, and at the time, to the almighty power wielded by Toyotomi Hideyoshi over his subjects. Anyone would have been duly intimidated once he stepped into the castle, and dared not compete with him.

     In the Tenshu-kaku, the main tower of the castle, which is now used as a museum, I could still  feel the presence of that mighty lord of the castle, sitting on the campaign chair beside a long-curved sword, surrounded by his loyal Seven Lancers. Looking down upon the whole enclosure from the top of it, I felt as if I were haughty Toyotomi Hideyoshi himself being absorbed in some thoughts. He has too many idle warriors at hand, unaccustomed to and discontented with the peace they have achieved. His ambition flies over across the sea and alights on the 'Land of the Morning Calm'. There is nothing like the United Nations, or the Security Council, nor world opinion that checks and condemns the act of invasion. His decision is all that is needed.

     I closed my eyes, and saw and heard helpless and terrified people fleeing, crying, dying; Japanese soldiers firing guns, brandishing swords, scaling the fortified wall, killing and get killed; shower of flying arrows, pool of blood, flaming fires consuming the houses and temples; the king of Korea leaving his court and people behind seeking a place of refuge in tears; defeat after defeat on the land; farmers, scholars, Buddhist monks, even women and children taking arms against the aggressors valiantly throughout the country; victory after victory on the sea by Adm. Lee Soon-Shin; death of Toyotomi Hideyoshi; the end of the war; the dead bodies lying everywhere; famine, ruins, the waste land.

     When I woke up from the momentary journey into the past, I found myself on my seat of the tour bus looking up at the Tenshu-kaku through the window. It was slowly being shrouded by the approaching darkness. The proud master of the castle had been long gone, but it seemed his spirit was still haunting the place. Then I felt a cold shiver ran through me when I looked up at the top of the tower. I saw a man watching me from where I had stood a moment ago. It was he. Or the ghost of him, at least.

     Soon I realized I was mistaken. The Osaka Castle is not what it was when Toyotomi Hideyoshi had built it. Only 17 years after his death, it was attacked and completely burnt down, and his wife and son committed suicide in it. It was restored by Tokugawa Shogunate in 1629, but a thunderbolt struck on the Tenshu-kaku and burnt it down. During the Meiji Restoration it was attacked again by the force of the New Government in 1868, destroying most of the remaining castle. It was reconstructed by the citizens of Osaka after World War I, only to be destroyed by the bombing raids during World War II. What spirit or ghost on earth can be as strong and tenacious as to endure so many fires, thunderbolt and bombings? It must have fled the place long, long ago.
          (February 6, 1991)