Academic literature on the topic 'Chinese-Japanese War, 1904-1905'

Статья подготовлена на основе материалов Государственного архива Хабаровского края и посвящена истории Восточных курсов при Окружном штабе Приамурского военного округа. В ней затрагивается история создания курсов после Русско-японской войны 1904–1905 гг. Исследуется цель, расписание и характер организации занятий по изучению офицерами и нижними чинами китайского, японского и на начальном этапе корейского языков. Впервые публикуются списки офицеров и нижних чинов, получивших премии по итогам изучения китайского и японского языков в 1912–1913 гг. Установлен состав преподавателей курсов в 1911–1913 гг. Based on the documents from the State Archive of Khabarovsk Krai, this article is devoted to the history of the Courses of Oriental languages at the Headquarters of the Priamour Military District. The author analyzes the history of creating these courses after the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–1905, as a result of the war, and of the Russian military expedition in China in 1900–1901. During both campaigns the shortage not only of the translators and dragomans but also of the oriental language-speaking officers was a great problem for the Russian Army in the Far East. The article investigates the reasons, the aim, the schedule and the character of the lessons conducted for officers and soldiers, who studied the Chinese, Japanese, and, at the very beginning, Korean languages. In this report, for the first time, we publish the list of officers and soldiers who received awards on successful completion of the courses of Chinese and Japanese languages in 1912–1913. The Courses faculty members, who taught in 1911–1913, are also identified. As a result, it is concluded that the courses probably had a certain impact on the combat readiness of the troops of the Priamour Military District.

The most important problem of the naval strategy of the late XIX - early XX centuries. was to provide the fleet with fuel. Before the Russo-Japanese War, the Russian fleet in the Pacific was supplied with coal, which was delivered by sea. The continuation of this kind of supply in the event of war seemed impossible. In the spring of 1904, a project arose for the delivery of coal from the Sudzhensky mines of L. A. Mikhelson (Kuzbass) to the ports of the Pacific Ocean. After coordination with other departments, part of the coal ordered by the Maritime Ministry was sent to Vladivostok. However, due to the high cost of its delivery, the workload of the Trans-Siberian and Chinese Eastern Railways by trains with troops and the successful delivery of coal from England by sea to Vladivostok, the delivery of Sudzha coal was stopped after receiving 5% of the total ordered quantity.

The author examines some aspects of the daily activities of foreign war correspondents who accompanied the Manchurian army in the Russian-Japanese War of 1904-1905. The article is based on texts published by journalists, materials from foreign periodicals, documentation from military and foreign ministries. Attention is paid both to the everyday peculiarities of the professional conditions of accredited journalists in Manchuria, and to the characteristics of the social environment, which had a significant impact on the process of collecting information in the theater of military operations. The issues of interaction of foreign correspondents with representatives of the Russian army, the local Chinese population and other reporters are touched upon, which is closely related to their possession of relevant foreign language competencies. The dynamics of the number of foreign military personnel in the theater of war and its connection with the course of hostilities are analyzed. The use of the historical and comparative method made it possible to identify common and special features in the situation of foreign reporters and other guests of Manchuria. The differences revealed in the characteristics of daily activities between foreign war correspondents and representatives of the Russian press, as a rule, were associated with a language barrier for foreigners and greater distrust of them on the part of censorship authorities. In comparison with military attaches, correspondents noted the complete independence of the journalistic corps in solving everyday issues in Manchuria. In the course of the study, several stages were identified in the dynamics of the number of foreign reporters in the theater of war. The correlation of the pace of correspondents' accreditations with events at the front has been revealed and demonstrated. It has been established that the 1904 campaign, especially its summer and autumn events, received the most attention from foreign journalists. For the first time, a range of issues is outlined for the study of which the legacy of foreign war correspondents may have the greatest scientific and cognitive value.

The article is devoted to the activities of the Russian Imperial Consulate in Yingkou (Niuzhuang) in the period from 1899 to 1909. Promoting Russian interests in South Manchuria, Russia paid great attention to the acquisition of real estate in this open Chinese port on the banks of the Liaohe River. At the initial stage, one of the main issues of the foreign mission was to assist in the acquisition of land for the construction of the Russian concession, as well as in the construction of the Yingkou station of the Yingkou — Dashiqiao branch of the CER. During the period of the Provisional Russian Administration, the building of the Russian Imperial Consulate, a doctor’s house and a bacteriological station were built here, the construction of the Mayor’s House began, and at the same time land plots were acquired for various household needs. The successful expansion of Russia in this region was disrupted by the Russian-Japanese War (1904–1905) and its results. Starting from the end of July 1904 to the end of November 1905, only one Russian citizen lived in Yingkou. The Russian Imperial Consulate which was reopened in December 1905 actively dealt with the issues of returning consular real estates and private property of its citizens. The Japanese military authorities, who were in charge of Yingkou until November 23, 1906, interfered in every possible way with this process. After the return of the city to the Chinese authorities, the Russian buildings were occupied by Chinese officials. However, thanks to the professional and well-coordinated actions of Russian diplomats in China and Japan, in particular the employees of the consulate in Yingkou A. T. Belchenko, V. K. Nikitin, Ambassador to Japan Y. (G.) P. Bakhmetev, delegate to China D. D. Pokotilov, the Russian consular property in Yingkou was returned to its rightful owners. Of course, the main role in this complex matter was played by Consul A. T. Belchenko, who, after solving the tasks assigned to him in Yingkou, was transferred to the consulate in Fuzhou. The choice of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was determined by the high assessment of his diplomatic service.

The article is devoted to the analysis of “Memoirs” by S.Yu. Witte in the context of the study of the Far Eastern policy of the Russian Empire and contradictions between Russia and Japan, which had been growing only to cause the war of 1904-1905. S.Yu. Witte was a member of the political elite of Russia in the late 19th and the early 20th centuries and, as Minister of Finance and Chairman of the Committee of Ministers, he was involved in critical decisions on domestic and foreign policy matters. Witte's memoirs reflected his meetings with the Russian and German emperors, Japanese and Chinese statesmen, members of the imperial family, and ministers for the Russian Far East. This information is of great value, containing numerous details, lengthy descriptions and personal observations related to the penetration of Russia into China and the acquisition of new bases for the Pacific Navy. The reverse side of the memoirs is their subjectivity and the author's desire in a special way to emphasise his own historical correctness, despite the erroneous opinions and short-sightedness of Emperor Nicholas II and his ministers. S.Yu. Witte repeatedly reproached the political elite for inconsistency in actions, unwillingness to comply with the obligations assumed, and underestimation of the enemy. All these miscalculations had catastrophic consequences in the form of Russia's defeat by the Japanese and the attempted Revolution of 1905-1907.

Introduction. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Imperial Russia tended to prioritize the creation of trade and transport communications with countries of the East, which was vividly manifested in a number of projects, such as the Trans-Siberian Railway, Chinese Eastern Railway, and South Manchuria Railway. In this regard, not that widely known remains the Kyakhta Railway project, which implied a construction of a railway line from the Trans-Siberian Railway to Kyakhta with subsequent access to the territory of Mongolia. Goals. The paper attempts an analysis of how the concept of the Kyakhta Railway was evolutionizing throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and seeks to reveal some key features arising from the latter’s geoeconomic and geopolitical objectives. Materials and methods. The work involves understudied materials stored at the Russian State Historical Archive, and methodologically rests on a systemic historical approach that secures insights into the development of the project from the perspectives of Imperial Russia’s political and economic interests and opportunities across Asia at the turn of the 20th century. Results. The conducted analysis of documents shows how the Kyakhta Railway project was actually developing. So, the earliest initiatives to build a railway line from Kyakhta to China’s northern borders were announced at the beginning of the 20th century, after Chinese authorities decided to lay a Beijing–Kalgan railway line. The Government was showing interest in the project under study in the direct aftermath the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–1905. And the project’s complete concept was introduced in a special note prepared by Kyakhta-based merchants in 1910 — to be finally approved in 1913. However, the outbreak of WWI postponed its implementation indefinitely. The article examines each stage in the shaping of the Kyakhta Railway project with emphases be laid on its geoeconomic and geopolitical objectives. The paper shows the project was viewed as a means to solve the then problems of Russian-Chinese and Russian-Mongolian trade, stimulate Eastern Siberia’s economy, fulfill transit potentials of Russia, and strengthen our geopolitical influence in the territory of Mongolia. Conclusions. The work attests to the Kyakhta Railway project was systemic and multifactorial by nature, illustrates its essential place in the overall geoeconomic strategies of the Russian Empire.

This article focuses on the fate of the little-researched Japanese Orthodox priest, Father Sergius (Suzuki), who preached in the Chinese city of Mukden in the early 20th century. Using the biography of Sergius (Suzuki) as a microhistorical example, the article describes the complex inter-state relations in Northeast Asia in the early 20th century and focuses on the spread of Orthodoxy in East Asia, which is especially relevant in today’s dialogue of cultures. The history of Orthodoxy’s development in Mukden and the changing dynamics of Orthodoxy’s spread in “South Manchuria” are also highlighted, explaining that the “accidental” presence of Japanese Orthodox priests in China in the early 20th century was no accident. Using the method of micro-historical research, the example of the biography of Sergius (Suzuki) traces the changes in the fate of “little people” occurring at a time of great historical events, it says about the plight of the Orthodox Church in China and generally in the Far East of the late 19th — early 20th centuries.

This article analyses the distinctive features of the image of China (Qing Empire) on the pages of the periodical Letopis’ Voiny s Yaponiyey (Chronicle of War with Japan) by its reporters. The Far Eastern neighbour of Russia appears as a state that lacks strong authority within the country and is unable to fully carry out an independent foreign policy. The authors of the Letopis’ do not ignore that China is close to Japan culturally and religiously and consider it a possible adversary of the Russian Empire. However, they also believe that China is unable to become an active participant in the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–1905 due to political pressure from the European powers and the US. The reporters of the Letopis’ pay special attention to the fact that as early as the beginning of last century, the Chinese were ready to “rise” and begin their struggle for independence, both from foreign powers and from the hated national elite of China, the Manchu Qing dynasty. In conclusion, the study argues that in the early twentieth century, the media, primarily newspapers and magazines, were given a special and important role in the Russian Empire in promoting the interests of the state and government. It was then that official and pro-governmental periodicals in Russia began, if necessary, to turn into a tool for forming the image of certain states (as an ally, enemy or neutral state) in the minds of the public in accordance with the will of the political elite.

Introduction“From every kind of man obedience I expect; I’m the Emperor of Japan.” (“Miyasama,” from Gilbert and Sullivan’s musical The Mikado, 1885)This commentary is facilitated by—surprisingly resilient—oriental stereotypes of an imagined Japan (think of Oscar Wilde’s assertion, in 1889, that Japan was a European invention). During the Victorian era, in Britain, there was a craze for all things oriental, particularly ceramics and “there was a craze for all things Japanese and no middle class drawing room was without its Japanese fan or teapot.“ (V&A Victorian). These pastoral depictions of the ‘oriental life’ included the figures of men and women in oriental garb, with fans, stilt shoes, kimono-like robes, and appropriate headdresses, engaging in garden-based activities, especially tea ceremony variations (Landow). In fact, tea itself, and the idea of a ceremony of serving it, had taken up a central role, even an obsession in middle- and upper-class Victorian life. Similarly, landscapes with wild seas, rugged rocks and stunted pines, wizened monks, pagodas and temples, and particular fauna and flora (cranes and other birds flying through clouds of peonies, cherry blossoms and chrysanthemums) were very popular motifs (see Martin and Koda). Rather than authenticity, these designs heightened the Western-based romantic stereotypes associated with a stylised form of Japanese life, conducted sedately under rule of the Japanese Imperial Court. In reality, prior to the Meiji period (1868–1912), the Emperor was largely removed from everyday concerns, residing as an isolated, holy figure in Kyoto, the traditional capital of Japan. Japan was instead ruled from Edo (modern day Tokyo) led by the Shogun and his generals, according to a strict Confucian influenced code (see Keene). In Japan, as elsewhere, the presence of feudal-style governance includes policies that determine much of everyday life, including restrictions on clothing (Rall 169). The Samurai code was no different, and included a series of protocols that restricted rank, movement, behaviour, and clothing. As Vincent has noted in the case of the ‘lace tax’ in Great Britain, these restrictions were designed to punish those who seek to penetrate the upper classes through their costume (28-30). In Japan, pre-Meiji sumptuary laws, for example, restricted the use of gold, and prohibited the use of a certain shade of red by merchant classes (V&A Kimono).Therefore, in the governance of pre-globalised societies, the importance of clothing and textile is evident; as Jones and Stallybrass comment: We need to understand the antimatedness of clothes, their ability to “pick up” subjects, to mould and shape them both physically and socially—to constitute subjects through their power as material memories […] Clothing is a worn world: a world of social relations put upon the wearer’s body. (2-3, emphasis added)The significant re-imagining of Japanese cultural and national identities are explored here through the cataclysmic impact of Western ideologies on Japanese cultural traditions. There are many ways to examine how indigenous cultures respond to European, British, or American (hereafter Western) influences, particularly in times of conflict (Wilk). Western ideology arrived in Japan after a long period of isolation (during which time Japan’s only contact was with Dutch traders) through the threat of military hostility and war. It is after this outside threat was realised that Japan’s adoption of military and industrial practices begins. The re-imagining of their national identity took many forms, and the inclusion of a Western-style military costuming as a schoolboy uniform became a highly visible indicator of Japan’s mission to protect its sovereign integrity. A brief history of Japan’s rise from a collection of isolated feudal states to a unified military power, in not only the Asian Pacific region but globally, demonstrates the speed at which they adopted the Western mode of warfare. Gunboats on Japan’s ShorelinesJapan was forcefully opened to the West in the 1850s by America under threat of First Name Perry’s ‘gunboat diplomacy’ (Hillsborough 7-8). Following this, Japan underwent a rapid period of modernisation, and an upsurge in nationalism and military expansion that was driven by a desire to catch up to the European powers present in the Pacific. Noted by Ian Ferguson in Civilization: The West and the Rest, Unsure, the Japanese decided […] to copy everything […] Japanese institutions were refashioned on Western models. The army drilled like Germans; the navy sailed like Britons. An American-style system of state elementary and middle schools was also introduced. (221, emphasis added)This was nothing short of a wide-scale reorganisation of Japan’s entire social structure and governance. Under the Emperor Meiji, who wrested power from the Shogunate and reclaimed it for the Imperial head, Japan steamed into an industrial revolution, achieving in a matter of years what had taken Europe over a century.Japan quickly became a major player-elect on the world stage. However, as an island nation, Japan lacked the essentials of both coal and iron with which to fashion not only industrial machinery but also military equipment, the machinery of war. In 1875 Japan forced Korea to open itself to foreign (read: Japanese) trade. In the same treaty, Korea was recognised as a sovereign nation, separate from Qing China (Tucker 1461). The necessity for raw materials then led to the Sino-Japanese War (1894–95), a conflict between Japan and China that marked the emergence of Japan as a major world power. The Korean Peninsula had long been China’s most important client state, but its strategic location adjacent to the Japanese archipelago, and its natural resources of coal and iron, attracted Japan’s interest. Later, the Russo-Japanese War (1904–05), allowed a victorious Japan to force Russia to abandon its expansionist policy in the Far East, becoming the first Asian power in modern times to defeat a European power. The Russo-Japanese War developed out of the rivalry between Russia and Japan for dominance in Korea and Manchuria, again in the struggle for natural resources (Tucker 1534-46).Japan’s victories, together with the county’s drive for resources, meant that Japan could now determine its role within the Asia-Pacific sphere of influence. As Japan’s military, and their adoption of Westernised combat, proved effective in maintaining national integrity, other social institutions also looked to the West (Ferguson 221). In an ironic twist—while Victorian and Continental fashion was busy adopting the exotic, oriental look (Martin and Koda)—the kimono, along with other essentials of Japanese fashions, were rapidly altered (both literally and figuratively) to suit new, warlike ideology. It should be noted that kimono literally means ‘things that you wear’ and which, prior to exposure to Western fashions, signified all worn clothing (Dalby 65-119). “Wearing Things” in Westernised JapanAs Japan modernised during the late 1800s the kimono was positioned as symbolising barbaric, pre-modern, ‘oriental’ Japan. Indeed, on 17 January 1887 the Meiji Empress issued a memorandum on the subject of women’s clothing in Japan: “She [the Empress] believed that western clothes were in fact closer to the dress of women in ancient Japan than the kimonos currently worn and urged that they be adopted as the standard clothes of the reign” (Keene 404). The resemblance between Western skirts and blouses and the simple skirt and separate top that had been worn in ancient times by a people descended from the sun goddess, Amaterasu wo mikami, was used to give authority and cultural authenticity to Japan’s modernisation projects. The Imperial Court, with its newly ennobled European style aristocrats, exchanged kimono silks for Victorian finery, and samurai armour for military pomp and splendour (Figure 1).Figure 1: The Meiji Emperor, Empress and Crown Prince resplendent in European fashions on an outing to Asukayama Park. Illustration: Toyohara Chikanobu, circa 1890.It is argued here that the function of a uniform is to prepare the body for service. Maids and butlers, nurses and courtesans, doctors, policemen, and soldiers are all distinguished by their garb. Prudence Black states: “as a technology, uniforms shape and code the body so they become a unit that belongs to a collective whole” (93). The requirement to discipline bodies through clothing, particularly through uniforms, is well documented (see Craik, Peoples, and Foucault). The need to distinguish enemies from allies on the battlefield requires adherence to a set of defined protocols, as referenced in military fashion compendiums (see Molloy). While the postcolonial adoption of Western-based clothing reflects a new form of subservience (Rall, Kuechler and Miller), in Japan, the indigenous garments were clearly designed in the interests of ideological allegiance. To understand the Japanese sartorial traditions, the kimono itself must be read as providing a strong disciplinary element. The traditional garment is designed to represent an upright and unbending column—where two meters of under bindings are used to discipline the body into shape are then topped with a further four meters of a stiffened silk obi wrapped around the waist and lower chest. To dress formally in such a garment requires helpers (see Dalby). The kimono both constructs and confines the women who wear it, and presses them into their roles as dutiful, upper-class daughters (see Craik). From the 1890s through to the 1930s, when Japan again enters a period of militarism, the myth of the kimono again changes as it is integrated into the build-up towards World War II.Decades later, when Japan re-established itself as a global economic power in the 1970s and 1980s, the kimono was re-authenticated as Japan’s ‘traditional’ garment. This time it was not the myth of a people descended from solar deities that was on display, but that of samurai strength and propriety for men, alongside an exaggerated femininity for women, invoking a powerful vision of Japanese sartorial tradition. This reworking of the kimono was only possible as the garment was already contained within the framework of Confucian family duty. However, in the lead up to World War II, Japanese military advancement demanded of its people soldiers that could win European-style wars. The quickest solution was to copy the military acumen and strategies of global warfare, and the costumes of the soldiery and seamen of Europe, including Great Britain (Ferguson). It was also acknowledged that soldiers were ‘made not born’ so the Japanese educational system was re-vamped to emulate those of its military rivals (McVeigh). It was in the uptake of schoolboy uniforms that this re-imagining of Japanese imperial strength took place.The Japanese Schoolboy UniformCentral to their rapid modernisation, Japan adopted a constitutional system of education that borrowed from American and French models (Tipton 68-69). The government viewed education as a “primary means of developing a sense of nation,” and at its core, was the imperial authorities’ obsession with defining “Japan and Japaneseness” (Tipton 68-69). Numerous reforms eventually saw, after an abolition of fees, nearly 100% attendance by both boys and girls, despite a lingering mind-set that educating women was “a waste of time” (Tipton 68-69). A boys’ uniform based on the French and Prussian military uniforms of the 1860s and 1870s respectively (Kinsella 217), was adopted in 1879 (McVeigh 47). This jacket, initially with Prussian cape and cap, consists of a square body, standing mandarin style collar and a buttoned front. It was through these education reforms, as visually symbolised by the adoption of military style school uniforms, that citizen making, education, and military training became interrelated aspects of Meiji modernisation (Kinsella 217). Known as the gakuran (gaku: to study; ran: meaning both orchid, and a pun on Horanda, meaning Holland, the only Western country with trading relations in pre-Meiji Japan), these jackets were a symbol of education, indicating European knowledge, power and influence and came to reflect all things European in Meiji Japan. By adopting these jackets two objectives were realised:through the magical power of imitation, Japan would, by adopting the clothing of the West, naturally rise in military power; and boys were uniformed to become not only educated as quasi-Europeans, but as fighting soldiers and sons (suns) of the nation.The gakuran jacket was first popularised by state-run schools, however, in the century and a half that the garment has been in use it has come to symbolise young Japanese masculinity as showcased in campus films, anime, manga, computer games, and as fashion is the preeminent garment for boybands and Japanese hipsters.While the gakuran is central to the rise of global militarism in Japan (McVeigh 51-53), the jacket would go on to form the basis of the Sun Yat Sen and Mao Suits as symbols of revolutionary China (see McVeigh). Supposedly, Sun Yat Sen saw the schoolboy jacket in Japan as a utilitarian garment and adopted it with a turn down collar (Cumming et al.). For Sun Yat Sen, the gakuran was the perfect mix of civilian (school boy) and military (the garment’s Prussian heritage) allowing him to walk a middle path between the demands of both. Furthermore, the garment allowed Sun to navigate between Western style suits and old-fashioned Qing dynasty styles (Gerth 116); one was associated with the imperialism of the National Products Movement, while the other represented the corruption of the old dynasty. In this way, the gakuran was further politicised from a national (Japanese) symbol to a global one. While military uniforms have always been political garments, in the late 1800s and early 1900s, as the world was rocked by revolutions and war, civilian clothing also became a means of expressing political ideals (McVeigh 48-49). Note that Mahatma Ghandi’s clothing choices also evolved from wholly Western styles to traditional and emphasised domestic products (Gerth 116).Mao adopted this style circa 1927, further defining the style when he came to power by adding elements from the trousers, tunics, and black cotton shoes worn by peasants. The suit was further codified during the 1960s, reaching its height in the Cultural Revolution. While the gakuran has always been a scholarly black (see Figure 2), subtle differences in the colour palette differentiated the Chinese population—peasants and workers donned indigo blue Mao jackets, while the People’s Liberation Army Soldiers donned khaki green. This limited colour scheme somewhat paradoxically ensured that subtle hierarchical differences were maintained even whilst advocating egalitarian ideals (Davis 522). Both the Sun Yat Sen suit and the Mao jacket represented the rejection of bourgeois (Western) norms that objectified the female form in favour of a uniform society. Neo-Maoism and Mao fever of the early 1990s saw the Mao suit emerge again as a desirable piece of iconic/ironic youth fashion. Figure 2: An example of Gakuran uniform next to the girl’s equivalent on display at Ichikawa Gakuen School (Japan). Photo: Emerald King, 2015.There is a clear and vital link between the influence of the Prussian style Japanese schoolboy uniform on the later creation of the Mao jacket—that of the uniform as an integral piece of worn propaganda (Atkins).For Japan, the rapid deployment of new military and industrial technologies, as well as a sartorial need to present her leaders as modern (read: Western) demanded the adoption of European-style uniforms. The Imperial family had always been removed from Samurai battlefields, so the adoption of Western military costume allowed Japan’s rulers to present a uniform face to other global powers. When Japan found itself in conflict in the Asia Pacific Region, without an organised military, the first requirement was to completely reorganise their system of warfare from a feudal base and to train up national servicemen. Within an American-style compulsory education system, the European-based curriculum included training in mathematics, engineering and military history, as young Britons had for generations begun their education in Greek and Latin, with the study of Ancient Greek and Roman wars (Bantock). It is only in the classroom that ideological change on a mass scale can take place (Reference Please), a lesson not missed by later leaders such as Mao Zedong.ConclusionIn the 1880s, the Japanese leaders established their position in global politics by adopting clothing and practices from the West (Europeans, Britons, and Americans) in order to quickly re-shape their country’s educational system and military establishment. The prevailing military costume from foreign cultures not only disciplined their adopted European bodies, they enforced a new regime through dress (Rall 157-174). For boys, the gakuran symbolised the unity of education and militarism as central to Japanese masculinity. Wearing a uniform, as many authors suggest, furthers compliance (Craik, Nagasawa Kaiser and Hutton, and McVeigh). As conscription became a part of Japanese reality in World War II, the schoolboys just swapped their military-inspired school uniforms for genuine military garments.Re-imagining a Japanese schoolboy uniform from a European military costume might suit ideological purposes (Atkins), but there is more. The gakuran, as a uniform based on a close, but not fitted jacket, was the product of a process of advanced industrialisation in the garment-making industry also taking place in the 1800s:Between 1810 and 1830, technical calibrations invented by tailors working at the very highest level of the craft [in Britain] eventually made it possible for hundreds of suits to be cut up and made in advance [...] and the ready-to-wear idea was put into practice for men’s clothes […] originally for uniforms for the War of 1812. (Hollander 31) In this way, industrialisation became a means to mass production, which furthered militarisation, “the uniform is thus the clothing of the modern disciplinary society” (Black 102). There is a perfect resonance between Japan’s appetite for a modern military and their rise to an industrialised society, and their conquests in Asia Pacific supplied the necessary material resources that made such a rapid deployment possible. The Japanese schoolboy uniform was an integral part of the process of both industrialisation and militarisation, which instilled in the wearer a social role required by modern Japanese society in its rise for global power. Garments are never just clothing, but offer a “world of social relations put upon the wearer’s body” (Jones and Stallybrass 3-4).Today, both the Japanese kimono and the Japanese schoolboy uniform continue to interact with, and interrogate, global fashions as contemporary designers continue to call on the tropes of ‘military chic’ (Tonchi) and Japanese-inspired clothing (Kawamura). References Atkins, Jaqueline. Wearing Propaganda: Textiles on the Home Front in Japan, Britain, and the United States. Princeton: Yale UP, 2005.Bantock, Geoffrey Herman. Culture, Industrialisation and Education. London: Routledge & K. Paul, 1968.Black, Prudence. “The Discipline of Appearance: Military Style and Australian Flight Hostess Uniforms 1930–1964.” Fashion & War in Popular Culture. Ed. Denise N. Rall. Bristol: Intellect/U Chicago P, 2014. 91-106.Craik, Jenifer. Uniforms Exposed: From Conformity to Transgression. Oxford: Berg, 2005.Cumming, Valerie, Cecil Williet Cunnington, and Phillis Emily Cunnington. “Mao Style.” The Dictionary of Fashion History. Eds. Valerie Cumming, Cecil Williet Cunnington, and Phillis Emily Cunnington. Oxford: Berg, 2010.Dalby, Liza, ed. Kimono: Fashioning Culture. London: Vintage, 2001.Davis, Edward L., ed. Encyclopaedia of Contemporary Chinese Culture. London: Routledge, 2005.Dees, Jan. Taisho Kimono: Speaking of Past and Present. Milan: Skira, 2009.Ferguson, N. Civilization: The West and the Rest. London: Penguin, 2011.Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Trans. Alan Sheridan. London: Penguin, 1997. Gerth, Karl. China Made: Consumer Culture and the Creation of the Nation, Cambridge: East Asian Harvard Monograph 224, 2003.Gilbert, W.S., and Arthur Sullivan. The Mikado or, The Town of Titipu. 1885. 16 Nov. 2015 ‹http://math.boisestate.edu/gas/mikado/mk_lib.pdf›. Hillsborough, Romulus. 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Wearing Ideology: State, Schooling, and Self-Presentation in Japan. Oxford: Berg, 2000.Molloy, John. Military Fashion: A Comparative History of the Uniforms of the Great Armies from the 17th Century to the First World War. New York: Putnam, 1972.Peoples, Sharon. “Embodying the Military: Uniforms.” Critical Studies in Men’s Fashion 1.1 (2014): 7-21.Rall, Denise N. “Costume & Conquest: A Proximity Framework for Post-War Impacts on Clothing and Textile Art.” Fashion & War in Popular Culture, ed. Denise N. Rall. Bristol: Intellect/U Chicago P, 2014. 157-74. Tipton, Elise K. Modern Japan: A Social and Political History. 3rd ed. London: Routledge, 2016.Tucker, Spencer C., ed. A Global Chronology of Conflict: From the Ancient World to the Modern Middle East. Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, 2013.V&A Kimono. Victoria and Albert Museum. “A History of the Kimono.” 2004. 2 Oct. 2015 ‹http://www.vam.ac.uk/content/articles/h/a-history-of-the-kimono/›.V&A Victorian. 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Polish Applied Art Society (Towarzystwo Polska Sztuka Stosowana) focused not only on designing interiors, furniture or tapestry, but was also interested in graphic design, to which an exhibition in Kraków was dedicated (24th December 1904 to 10th February 1905), organized in cooperation with the National Museum. The aim of the exhibition was ‘to present the degree of artistry in contemporary Polish printing, to emphasize the aspirations, to give it a distinct character, to give an overview of the artistic use of folk motifs and to inform about the current state of printing technology’. The exhibition was to draw the publishers’ attention to the issues of contemporary print design as well as to arouse the interest of artists in this field. Warchałowski argued that the exhibition was to show that the distinctive Polish character of printing consisted of two elements – the individuality of artists and the use of folk motifs. The National Museum was responsible for the exhibition of the old prints. The exhibition included the most interesting Polish posters of the period, made in the technique of lithography in the workshop of Aureliusz Pruszyński in Kraków. There was also a presentation of publications of the Jagiellonian University Printing House, National Printing House of Napoleon Telz, Piotr Laskauer in Warsaw and several others. The Society did not fail to boast about their own prints – to the quality of which they paid particular attention – the catalogues, periodicals, reports, exhibition posters, correspondence cards. There was a separate presentation of works of the artists who had already been successful in the field of graphic design, among others of Józef Mehoffer, Eugeniusz Dąbrowa-Dąbrowski, Karol Frycz, Stanisław Wyspiański, Henryk Uziembło. The last part of the exhibition was devoted to foreign prints, mostly from Feliks Jasieński’s collection. There were American, English, as well as Chinese and Japanese publications. The exhibition was widely commented on in the press, and it was quite well received. The selection of the presented works, their artistic level as well as the arrangement of the exhibition were praised. The TPSS appreciated several printing houses, awarded medals and distributed cash prizes.