（人類史の奇跡──日本の7世紀における共通権威の発明）
Japan’s history holds a secret often overlooked in world narratives: more than 1,300 years ago, Japan built a system where power and authority were separated, leaders served as trustees rather than masters, and ordinary people were recognized as citizens of the Tenno. This “democracy before democracy” is not only the reason why Japan’s imperial line has endured for over 2,600 years—the oldest continuous monarchy in the world—but also a vision that speaks to humanity today.
Front view of Kenreimon Gate at the Kyoto Imperial Palace, featuring the traditional thatched roof, symmetrical wooden structures, and surrounding stone courtyard with pine trees in the background.
1. Two Turning Points in Japanese History
In the long course of Japan’s history, there are two great turning points that reshaped the nation from its very foundations: the 7th century and the 19th century. Both moments share a striking similarity. In each case, Japan faced overwhelming external pressure, and in response, the people once again unified under the Tenno.
The word Tenno is often translated as Emperor. But this is misleading. An emperor in the Western sense is “the king of kings,” the supreme holder of political power. The Japanese Tenno, by contrast, has never been a political ruler. The Tenno stands above political power, not within it. What, then, is the Tenno’s role? The Tenno prays to the kami—the deities of Japan’s ancient tradition. And the purpose of these prayers is the well-being of the people, who are regarded as the Tenno’s greatest treasure.
Beneath the Tenno stand the holders of political power. Because they are considered subordinates of the Tenno, their foremost duty is defined as this: to ensure that the people—the treasure of the Tenno—can live in peace, safety, and well-being. This unique relationship between the Tenno, the leaders, and the people has allowed Japan’s imperial line to endure for more than 2,600 years, making it the oldest continuous monarchy in the world.
In the 7th century, the external pressure came from the great Chinese empires on the continent. This threat triggered the Taika Reform, a sweeping reorganization that transformed Japan into a unified state under the Tenno. Over a thousand years later, in the 19th century, the external pressure came from Western imperial powers. And once again, the Japanese people responded by uniting under the political legitimacy of the Tenno.
2. The Meiji Restoration as a Revival of Ancient Foundations
The unification of the 19th century was not simply the birth of an entirely new system. Rather, it was the revival—recast in modern form—of the institutional order first established in the 7th century by the Yamato court. In this sense, Japan’s modern state was not a mere imitation of the West but a return to its own ancient roots, drawing strength from a much older vision of governance.
The Meiji Restoration placed the Tenno at the symbolic center of national unity, just as the Yamato reforms had done more than a millennium earlier. The Tenno did not directly wield political power but served as the source of authority that granted legitimacy to those who governed. Thus, in both the 7th and 19th centuries, Japan’s path of renewal was anchored in this unique relationship between the people, the leaders, and the Tenno.
3. Authority vs. Power – The Unique Role of Tenno
In most civilizations, rulers combined both authority and power in a single person. The Chinese emperor, for instance, was the “Son of Heaven,” invested with absolute political power as well as sacred authority. If he lost the favor of Heaven, a revolution would arise, and another dynasty would replace him. This was the Mandate of Heaven system, and it shaped Chinese history for millennia. Similarly, in Europe, kings such as those of France’s Bourbon dynasty ruled through “divine right,” holding both sacred authority and absolute power. Even in modern republics like the United States, a president, though elected by the people, does not assume power until he takes an oath before God.
Japan’s Tenno, however, embodies an entirely different principle. From the 7th century onward, the Tenno never served as a political ruler. Instead, the Tenno functioned as the source of authority that granted legitimacy to political leaders, while refraining from wielding political power directly. In other words, power was delegated to rulers—shoguns, prime ministers, or other governing officials—while the Tenno remained as the authority above them all.
This separation between authority and power is what made Japan unique. It established a balance in which those who exercised power did so only as trustees, borrowing legitimacy from the Tenno. At the same time, the Tenno’s prayers ensured that this legitimacy was always rooted in the well-being of the people.
4. The Mythic Foundation
The authority of the Tenno does not come from military conquest or political maneuvering. It is rooted instead in myth—in the ancient belief that the Tenno is a direct descendant of Amaterasu-Ōmikami, the Sun Goddess of Japan’s earliest traditions. According to the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki, the imperial line inherits its legitimacy not through revolution or usurpation but through an unbroken bloodline that links the present Tenno to the divine origins of the nation.
This mythic foundation gave the Tenno a unique role in world history. In other civilizations, rulers claimed divine sanction but still acted as absolute monarchs or political overlords. In Japan, by contrast, the Tenno was revered as sacred precisely because he refrained from wielding power. His authority lay in embodying the divine connection between the people and the kami, and in blessing those who governed so that they would rule responsibly.
This continuity of divine lineage is what allowed the Japanese people to accept the Tenno as a source of legitimacy across the centuries, regardless of which political leaders held actual power. It created a framework in which rulers could rise and fall—shoguns, regents, prime ministers—but the authority of the Tenno, anchored in myth and lineage, remained unchanged.
5. The Miracle of Kōmin
One of the most extraordinary achievements of the 7th century reforms was the declaration that all people were kōmin—“the people of the Tenno.” This principle was embodied in the system known as kōchi-kōmin (public land, public people). In practice, it meant that the land was held on behalf of the state, and the people were not the private property of local rulers but belonged directly to the Tenno.
The significance of this was profound. In most other civilizations of the time, ordinary people were subjects of a king or vassals of a lord, bound by personal allegiance and often treated as property. Their lives could be taken at the whim of the ruler. In Japan, by contrast, every person was redefined as a kōmin—a public citizen under the protection of the Tenno.
This status carried two radical implications. First, those who governed—whether they were daimyō, shoguns, ministers, or even modern executives—were entrusted with the responsibility of caring for the Tenno’s people. They were never absolute masters, but trustees of the public. Second, even the rulers themselves were kōmin—they too were counted among the people of the Tenno. Authority and power alike were thus bound by a shared moral obligation: to safeguard the lives and well-being of the people.
This principle gave rise to a culture in which ordinary individuals were never seen as expendable. The popular saying, “Even the smallest insect has its own soul,” reflects this ethos. It is the echo of a system where every life, no matter how humble, was dignified as part of the Tenno’s people. In a world dominated by absolute monarchs, Japan had, by the 7th century, already envisioned a form of ultimate democracy: not rule by power over others, but leadership defined as service to all.
6. Leaders as Trustees, Not Masters
In Japan’s historical tradition, those who exercised political or social authority were never regarded as absolute masters. Whether they were shoguns, regents, daimyō, or even company presidents in modern times, their role was defined as that of trustees. They were entrusted with the care of the Tenno’s people, the kōmin, rather than granted ownership over them.
A leader in Japan was not “great” in the sense of being superior or inherently more worthy. Rather, to be erai hito (an “important person”) meant something quite different. The word erai in Japanese does carry the meaning of “great,” but at the same time it also conveys “burdensome” or “a person who must endure hardship.” Thus, an erai hito was understood not as someone privileged, but as someone who bore heavy responsibilities, endured difficulties, and worked for the well-being of others.
This ethos was strong enough to restrain even rulers themselves. In the Edo period, for example, when a lord acted arrogantly or ignored the needs of his people, retainers could unite in what was called shukun-oshikome—literally confining or even deposing their own lord. Such actions would be unthinkable under absolute monarchies in other parts of the world, but in Japan they reflected the principle that leaders were never above the people—they were simply stewards of the Tenno’s citizens.
The result was a political culture in which collaboration and consultation were valued over blind obedience. Leaders advanced not by commanding unilaterally but by listening, mediating, and earning the cooperation of those they guided. This framework of trusteeship became one of the enduring foundations of Japanese social life, resonating from the samurai code to the modern boardroom.
7. Democracy Before Democracy
By the standards of world history, the idea of democracy is often traced to ancient Greece and thought to have reemerged in modern Europe and America. Yet Japan had already realized a different, and in some ways deeper, form of democracy as early as the 7th century.
The principle was simple but revolutionary: no one person had the right to rule over others absolutely. Those in positions of power were not masters but custodians, responsible for the lives of the Tenno’s people. Even the most powerful shogun or regent was still, in the end, one of the kōmin—a citizen of the Tenno.
This framework created a culture in which collective decision-making was valued above domination. Leaders had to listen, consult, and build consensus in order to govern effectively. If a ruler acted arrogantly or betrayed the trust of the people, he could be replaced—not by violent revolution, but by the moral authority of the system itself, which bound every leader to the role of trustee.
Seen in this light, Japan had achieved what could be called “democracy before democracy.” It was not democracy in the Western sense of elections and parliaments, but a social ethic that placed the dignity of every person at its core. By grounding political authority in the Tenno, while defining rulers as trustees of the people, Japan created a model in which power was always subordinate to the well-being of the community. In the 7th century—long before such concepts were formalized in the West—Japan had already given birth to a uniquely human-centered vision of governance.
Conclusion: A Miracle in Human History
Japan’s history reveals a model of governance unlike any other in the world. From the 7th century onward, the Tenno stood as the source of authority, not as a wielder of power. Leaders governed as trustees, not masters, and the people were honored as kōmin—citizens of the Tenno. In this way, Japan achieved what could be called “democracy before democracy,” grounding political life not in domination, but in service and responsibility.
This system is not merely a relic of the past. It explains how the imperial line has endured for more than 2,600 years, making it the oldest continuous monarchy in the world. More importantly, it offers a vision of what leadership and community might mean for all of humanity today. In an age still troubled by the abuse of power and the hunger for domination, Japan’s ancient achievement reminds us that true authority lies not in ruling over others, but in safeguarding their dignity and well-being.
So the question remains for us, across cultures and across time: what kind of leadership do we choose to uphold? Will we cling to systems of domination, or will we embrace a model where leaders are trustees of the people, and authority exists to protect life itself? The miracle of the 7th century is not only Japan’s heritage. It is a gift to all of humanity—a prayer that the dignity of every person may be honored, and that we may build together a future grounded in harmony, responsibility, and shared humanity.
