Sekigahara

It has been called “Japan’s Gettysberg,” and yet its name is little known outside Japan. Because of its impact on Japanese history, it would behoove even the most committed pacifist to understand the significance of the battle named for this town, for its consequences reverberate in the country even today. Should this seem like an exaggeration, consider that in Junichiro Tanizaki’s classic novel, The Makioka Sisters, the outcome of the battle remains a source of tension between adopted household head, Tatsuo, and his sister-in-law, Sachiko, four centuries after it was fought. The significance of Tanizaki’s allusion resonates all the more one understands the import of a single word: Sekigahara.

In 1600, the council of regents appointed by Toyotomi Hideyoshi to act as caretakers of the government until his son came of age was torn apart by suspicion. Two factions lined up behind Tokugawa Ieyasu of the East and Ishida Mitsunari of the West. After a series of feints and minor battles, the two armies met on the narrow plain of Sekigahara. Over 170 000 men engaged in combat on a day when a change in any one of a series of key decisions could have reversed the outcome. Yet the day belonged to the Tokugawa, who staked a claim on the leadership of Japan that would endure for over 260 years.

Ishikawa Jozan, the builder of Shisendo, served as a member of Ieyasu’s personal guard that day, so I felt compelled to see the battlefield with my own eyes. Keeping in mind that I am the farthest thing from a “military geek” one could find, this trip helped me understand the passion which so many people (mostly men, admittedly) invest in military history. It is one thing to read Anthony Bryant’s fine Sekigahara 1600 to understand how uncertain was the outcome of the battle, it is quite another to stand on the quiet field and imagine one of the largest battles in the history of the world occurring in such a compressed area. Once the two sides lined up, both must have realized that the poor lines of retreat meant that they were about to engage in a decisive battle.

The modern tourist can approach Sekigahara with far less trepidation. The shinkansen does not stop there, so expect some back and forth from Maibara on the local train if you are traveling with a rail pass. Upon arrival, you will find a quiet town nestled between a mountain and a rice paddy. You are entering a place that offers experiences ranging from the ludicrous to the humbling, so don’t be shy about renting a bike at the shop outside the station and tooling around the area.

The camps of each daimyo are well marked if you are the type to pace out the battlefield to gain a sense of both army’s starting positions. If you’re not, you might still enjoy a bike ride through the paddies, listening to the insects and wondering if they buzzed in the background all those centuries ago.

The eeriest place of all is Higashi Kubizuka, the burial site of many of the forty thousand enemy heads taken in battle that day. Before interment, Tokugawa Ieyasu inspected them during a head-viewing ceremony. To the casual observer, the idea of a head-viewing ceremony must sound savage, but if one considers that this was the only way samurai could verify their accomplishments and receive rewards for them, perhaps the reader can make sense of it. Standing outside the gate, I experienced a grave silence that might have been more impression than reality, but it gave me enough of a shiver that I did not even consider entering the grounds. According to my research, there is no record of Ishikawa taking a head that day, but it is highly likely that he was guarding Ieyasu as he viewed the heads of his fallen enemies at the nearby base camp.

From there, we went to the ridiculous Sekigahara War Land, which we thoroughly enjoyed once we recognized its camp value. Littering the grounds are random statues of samurai that appear to have been painted by high school students in exchange for course credits. Shrubs grow in the middle of Ieyasu's camp, obscuring the view of his advisors. Suits of armour are displayed in a small museum that help improve the historical value of the place, but that is all. Considering that you have traveled all this way to see an empty battlefield, my advice is to relax and enjoy Sekigahara War Land to make the most of the day. If you are traveling with people who don’t share your interest in war history, consider it a must. Who knows, they just might enjoy leading the charge.

Travis Belrose is the author of The Samurai Poet, a work of historical fiction based on the life of Ishikawa Jozan. Learn more here.