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Well all the major events have happened, I don't know what will happen for the rest of the AAR :p

Still surprised that Germany managed to take down both the Commune and the Soviet Union

I'm hoping that a more conservative government might start up some event chains, but if not that's okay. UoB is still technically at war with the Entente and possibly the Central Powers as well; so that might be interesting. But I'm guessing the remaining years will be pretty quiet.
 
Chapter VII:
Kimigayo wa chiyo ni yachiyo ni
Tokyo, Japan
Dai Nippon Teikoku

The door opened slightly and a head appeared. Quietly the door was opened further until there was an entire person in the doorway; albeit a very nervous one.

"Your Majesty," the man said, bowing. No response. The Emperor sat at his desk and continued to read over a number of papers; including a briefing on the now seemingly endless standoff with the Russians. Only after a moment did he seem to realise that someone had spoken to him and he looked up, quizzically.

"Hanasu?"

The aide knew it was a statement, but it sounded more like a question. The Emperor was like that, he had heard. Very timid. Managing to overcome the rigid structures of filial piety that had been installed in him since birth, the aide actually stepped fully into the small office; keeping his eyes still respectfully downcast.

"It pains me to inform my Lord that his most honourable brother Chichibu-no-miya Yasuhito Shinnō has passed away as of last evening."

The intervening silence was deafening. One looked at the floor while the Emperor looked down at the papers on his desk. Finally the Emperor spoke, even more quietly than before; so that the aide could barely hear him.

"Watashi ni tsūchi shite itadaki arigatōgozaimasu. Anata ga nokosu koto ga dekimasu."

The aide nodded and left. It did not do for a man to see his Emperor weep.

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Tsarist troops on parade, bordering the Fengtien Republic in 1955

July of 1955 brought a completely unexpected surprise, as Qing-backed partisans rose up and seized the municipal government of the city of Fuxin. Fuxin was on the border with the revived Empire and capital of Liaoning province in Japanese-occupied China; and her officials had been struggling for some time to contain increased partisan activity. On the 20th, a group of angry -- and armed -- Chinese and even a handful of the collaborating police offices swiftly occupied city hall in a surprise assault and executed the Japanese administration without even a pretense of a kangaroo court. The home islands and Korea responded with shock and outrage, and Tokyo ordered Fengtien troops to immediately put the situation under control. They did, shelling the by-then-fortified city into rubble a week later on the 27th; not bothering with anything so pedestrian as caring for civilian casualties. In Japan, Chinese casualties didn't count.

1955 turned out to be a busy month for the Japanese in China, as Qing troops were soon spotted building up along the border with Japanese-occupied China in October. A response to this stretched Japanese resources in China as Tokyo had troops pulled from Korea and the still-tense Russo-Fengtien border in response. The threat of another war on Chinese soil enervated the economy, which continued to gradually slide downwards under the conservative administration. November brought surprise as the Germans finally wrapped up their war in China. The warlords operating the self-styled National Protection Alliance had declared war on the German company-state of the AOG years before and made significant gains towards forcing them out of China even after German troops actually arrived in the country to defend their corporate interests. Until very recently it seemed the war was ambling along in a stalemate as it always had; and Germany's sudden victory surprised the Japanese. Now "old China", i.e. China prior to the Revolution, was divided simply in half: AOG against the Qing.

The 1956 general elections saw Seiyukai re-elected due to an effective campaign touting the conservatives' policy of "peace prepared for war" and whipping up fear over the possibility of a united China in the near future. While in reality the Qing were a long time gone from being a German-backed client; and actually found themselves an enemy of the Reich as Berlin poured money and resources into the AOG, that didn't stop Seiyukai from portraying both the AOG and the Qing as Germanophiles who were a hop, skip, and jump away from reunifying and attacking Japan. Taishuto heavily criticised this and poached more than a few seats from them in the Diet but ultimately failed to make the impression they wanted. September of 1957 and May of 1958 each saw parliamentary scandals as cabinet ministers were forced to resign over accusations of running abusive sweatshops in Guam and amid a firestorm of controversy over marital infidelity; respectively. At this point, such salacious scandals had become a regular feature of the Japanese political landscape but they still damaged Seiyukai's credibility with the people, especially after having campaigned initially on a platform ending such things.

This came back to haunt them in the 1960 general elections. Years of a steadily declining economy coupled with public disillusion over government scandals and mismanagement and the complete failure of any of Seiyukai's fearmongering predictions to come true led to Taishuto winning a characteristic parliamentary upset. Katayama Tetsu returned for his third premiership and promised that the Empire would see a revitalised economy under his social democratic administration, and that Japan would pursue a policy of "proactive and assured peace" in China. Two years later, on February 19th 1962 Tetsu traveled to the Forbidden City to sign a non-aggression pact with Emperor Puyi; fulfilling his promise and also putting the capstone on an ambitious foreign relations offensive towards peace that Tokyo had been pursuing with gusto. His triumph was to be overshadowed, however, by the assassination of the Minister of the Interior, Saito Takao, by Australasian agents less than a month later. Minister Takao was a noted social democrat and was a party elder for Taishuto; continuously serving in the Diet for over three decades. His assassination was a tragedy for the party and for Japan both and a week of mourning was observed.

1963 passed quietly.
Quietly, indeed, seemed to be the watchword of the Japanese Empire for many years now. Comfortably liberal with a prosperous economy and a people devoted to the ideal of peace, Japan had been spared the horrors of war visited upon so much of the world for so long. The Empire exchanged a sword for a ploughshare and was renowned throughout Asia and the wider world as an emissary of peace and international co-operation; with a continuous democratic tradition she could be proud of. Emperor Hirohito may not reign for a thousand years; but his reign had certainly been a happy one.
 
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Epilogue

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With Pomp and on a Global Stage, Japanese Bury Emperor Hirohito

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His Majesty Emperor Hirohito of Japan waving to his subjects at a garden party, 1987
By SUSAN CHIRA, Special to the New York Times
Published: February 24, 1989

TOKYO, Friday, Feb. 24— With rites reaching back to its ancient past and a massing of world leaders testifying to its modern ascent, Japan embarked today upon the daylong funeral of Emperor Hirohito.

The haunting tones of reed instruments, solemn Shinto rites and a moment of silence, punctuated the ceremony that was the formal conclusion of the era of pacifism, progress, and amity that Hirohito represented.

It was a funeral carefully designed both as a tribute to the late Emperor and as a showcase for the peaceful, affluent society that flourished under his long reign. Hirohito, who in death is known as the Emperor Showa, died of cancer on Jan. 7 at the age of 87. The delay of 48 days was about the same as that for the previous Emperor, and allowed time for numerous ceremonies leading up to the funeral.

Unlike the funeral held 62 years ago this month for his father, the Emperor Taisho, there was no ceremonious parade of officials dressed in military uniforms and far fewer of the Shinto rituals used at that time to glorify the Emperor as a near-deity. These and other changes were meant to distinguish this first funeral of an emperor under the austere constitutionalism of Japan's long-established Popular Masses Party, and the first held in daylight.

While Taisho's funeral was a largely domestic affair, attracting the representatives of about 35 countries, the list of those attending Hirohito's funeral attested to the economic superpower Japan had become under his reign.

The 163 representatives of foreign nations include President Kennedy, -- wearing a rented morning suit -- King Henri VI of Algiers, President Ronald Reagan of the PSA, King Carl XVI Gustaf of Sweden and Emperor Louis Ferdinand of Germany.



An estimated 860,000 people lined the site of the procession - far more than the 200,000 officials had projected. Matsuo Seto, 72 years old, traveled 10 hours from his home in Ishikawa prefecture. ''The Emperor was the symbol of our country, and it's like mourning for our father,'' he said. ''Even if I can't see it, my heart will be satisfied.''

The high, piercing notes of reeds broke the silence as the hearse bearing the Emperor's coffin drove over a stone bridge and out through the Imperial Palace gates. Some put down their umbrellas and bowed their heads as the hearse passed. Others stood silently or snapped pictures. The air shook with the sound of cannon and a brass band played a dirge composed for the funeral of Hirohito's great-grandmother in the late 19th century.

Past Japanese emperors were carried to their final rest in an ox-drawn cart, its wheels specially made to creak in four doleful tones.

The exigencies of security and concessions to modernity dictated a motorized hearse this time. It began its daylight journey across unadorned stretches of asphalt, through a city of concrete and glass without the romantic vistas of the past. The chosen route hailed the accomplishments of the new Japan, swinging by the Diet building, seat of Japan's democratic legislature, and passing corporate headquarters, and the National Stadium, where Hirohito presided over Japan's triumphant coming-out party to the nations of the West, the 1964 Tokyo Olympics.

To the solemn notes of the brass band, the 40-minute procession pulled into Shinjuku Gyoen, until 1949 reserved for the use of the Imperial family and now one of Tokyo's most popular parks. There tradition, for a brief period, held sway.

Hirohito's coffin was transferred into a palanquin made of cypress wood painted with black lacquer. Attendants clad in long gray robes, narrow tall black hats and black outsized wooden sandals, bearing white and yellow banners, shields and signs of the sun and moon, led a 225-member procession. Musicians played gagaku, the haunting, atonal court music so evocative of a Japan that has all but vanished.

Next came gray-robed attendants carrying two sacred sakaki trees draped with cloth streamers and ceremonial boxes of food and silk cloths to be offered to the spirit of the late Emperor. One attendant bore the shoes of the Emperor on a wooden stand.

Fifty-one members of the Imperial Household Agency in traditional garb carried the palanquin and the one-ton casket. Ill health prevented Hirohito's widow, Nagako, from attending. The new Emperor, Akihito, and Empress Michiko, carrying their own large umbrellas, followed the palanquin with other family members.

In a nine-minute procession, they walked up the aisle dividing two pavilions filled with Japan's most important officials and dignitaries from around the world.

The procession passed through a small wooden torii gate, the Shinto symbol marking the entrance to sacred space, and filed into the Sojoden, a funeral hall built Japanese-style with bamboo pegs. When they entered the funeral hall, the Shinto portion of the funeral began and a black curtain partition was drawn closed.

It opened to reveal a centuries-old ceremony. To the accompaniment of chanting, officials approached the altar of the Emperor, holding aloft wooden trays of sea bream, wild birds, kelp, seaweed, mountain potatoes, melons and other delicacies. The foods, as well as silk cloths, were offered to the spirit of the late Emperor.

The chief of ceremony, a childhood classmate and attendant of Hirohito, then delivered an address, followed by Emperor Akihito.


Mirroring the quiet grandeur of the funeral, central Tokyo was quiet today, restaurants and stores closed, pictures of Hirohito draped in black in almost every window. In Shinjuku Gyoen, the funeral continued as the black curtain closed, signalling the end of the Shinto portion of the funeral.

The curtain parted, and Japan's chief Cabinet secretary opened the state portion of the funeral. At noon, he called for a minute of silence throughout Japan.

Then Prime Minister Tomiichi Murayama and other Government representatives praised Hirohito in addresses. One by one, foreign dignitaries approached the altar and paid their respects. Some merely inclined their heads; some, like President Kennedy bowed slightly.

Hirohito's coffin was then to travel to the surburban city of Hachioji, to the Imperial mausoleum that houses the tombs of his parents. Several hours of ceremonies were to stretch until nightfall, the traditional time to bury emperors. Here, in darkness, the man who presided over one of Japan's most peaceful and prosperous eras would finally be laid to rest.
 
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and far fewer of the Shinto rituals used at that time to glorify the Emperor as a near-deity. These and other changes were meant to distinguish this first funeral of an emperor under the austere constitutionalism

Boooooooo! Hissssssss!
But seriously, that was pretty interesting for an AAR with a painful lack of warfare.
 
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