Following the tumultuous 1868 Meiji Restoration, the new government was dead-set on doing away with practices and institutions deemed uncivilized. They introduced new tax laws, a conscription army, and began emphasizing nativist teachings over Buddhism. There was no room for anything considered barbaric, not even in death.

While full-body burials were the norm, cremation was becoming more popular, much to the annoyance of Japanese Confucians and nativists in the government. In a bid to embrace modernity and advance the nation, in July 1873, the government made an unprecedented first: banning cremation nationwide.

A Brief Overview of Cremation in Japan

Cremation isn’t a new phenomenon in Japan; there’s strong evidence suggesting cremation was performed to some extent beginning in the Jomon period. The 700 AD cremation of Buddhist priest Dosho, followed by Empress Jito’s cremation in 703 AD, legitimized cremation among the aristocracy. Cremation spread to the common people in the Kamakura period when it became more closely associated with Buddhism.

While Buddhist doctrine didn’t mandate cremation as the sole means of burial, cremation became inseparable from Buddhism due in part to the temple-parishioner or danka system. The Tokugawa regime required all households to be registered with a temple, and many temples relied heavily on income from funerary rites to stay in operation.

The close association between Buddhism and cremation would prove detrimental after the Meiji Restoration. The metropolitan triumvirate of Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka began contending with shrinking land and crowded temple cemeteries as populations increased. Cremation and the resulting compact, easily transportable remains quickly became more appealing to residents.

People also held fast to the prevailing folk belief that burning the dead eradicated pollution, or kegare (汚れ). Yet it would be concern over the supposed pollution of cremation that prompted the government to take steps to outlaw it.

Out With the Old, In With the New

Small-scale attempts to ban cremation weren’t uncommon in the Edo period.

The administrator of the Tosa domain managed to “soft-ban” the practice by mandating the cremation of all convicted criminals, thereby discouraging families from giving their dead loved ones a dishonorable burial. The Aizu, Mito, and Choshu domains also implemented bans, but how strictly these were enforced is unclear.

Anti-cremation — and by default anti-Buddhist — activists saw their chance to ban cremation once and for all after the Restoration. The loudest detractors were Japanese Confucians. They shared a stance with 17th-century Chinese Confucians, who considered cremation a grave form of disrespect to the dead and a threat to the filial order bolstering society.

On the other hand, Buddhists believed consigning the dead to the flames was the highest act of respect, the ultimate representation of impermanence.

Adding Fuel to the Flames

Japanese Confucians may have been a vocal minority. But what really propelled the government to ban cremation was a proposal from the Tokyo police. In May 1873, they suggested relocating crematoriums, notably the Senju temple ones, outside the city’s “red line” (shubiki, 朱引). They claimed the “severe stench [from burning bodies] injures people’s health.”

No mention was made of outright banning cremation. However, in a desperate bid for modernity, the Council of State decided to take it a step further and outlaw cremation.

The government hinged its reasoning on two main points. First, burning the dead was disrespectful and unfilial. Second, the smoke from burning corpses posed a threat to public health. No exceptions would be allowed, not even for those who died far from home. Never before had the government enacted such a stringent policy on death rites.

Battling the Ban

Opposition to the ban was instantaneous. People from all over sent letters and memorials to leading newspapers arguing against the ban. The government didn’t explicitly condemn Buddhism in its decree, so pro-cremation activists avoided promoting cremation in association with Buddhism. Instead, they constructed their arguments on cremation’s other positive benefits, mainly its space-saving attributes.

Cremation was also less costly and allowed families to maintain graves close to home. This ensured strong ties between the living and the dead.

Some cremation advocates, like Buddhist activist Ouichi Seiran, predicted fields reserved for burial would reach capacity in a few years. Ouchi also argued that the government overstepped itself in asserting a one-size-fits-all policy:

“…it is insupportable to say that districts practicing cremation do not produce any good, filial people and that households practicing burial do not produce wicked, immoral children. Therefore, we should not argue about the reasonableness, the feeling, and finally, the right and wrong, of cremation versus earth burial… This is a matter already within the hearts of the people, and the government should not interfere.”

Quoted in Andrew Bernstein. “Fire and Earth: The Forging of Modern Cremation in Meiji Japan” p.311

The Class Divide Widens Further

Unsurprisingly, the ban more adversely affected the poor than the affluent. After announcing the ban, the government ordered major cities to set aside land for full-body burial, and even reclaim temple property if necessary.

Kyoto was more than happy to comply — authorities had petitioned to ban cremation in 1869 to no effect. It was a different story in Osaka and Tokyo. The gentry quickly snatched up available land plots, and despite price control measures, plots were still exorbitantly priced far above what a poor family could afford. Things were so out of hand that in 1874, the governor of Hyogo prefecture, Kanda Takahira, penned a strongly worded letter to the Council of State demanding it lift the ban, citing public resentment over unavailable land.

An Angered Public

In rural areas, some mourners openly defied the ban, but crackdowns in urban areas were common, generating more ill-will towards the government. This resentment only increased when Tokyo banned any type of burial within the red line, forcing families to abandon ancestral graves they’d tended for generations. Temple priests and crematory workers, or onbo (隠亡) witnessed first-hand the anguish bereaved families faced. The onbo of Tokyo’s Senju temple wrote about the difficult logistics of performing full-body burials:

“… the gravestones of different households are lined up right next to each other, so when you try to bury a body, you have to dig up not only the gravestone of the mourning family but also those of neighboring plots….”

Quoted in Andrew Bernstein. Modern Passings: Death Rites, Politics, and Social Change in Imperial Japan, p. 75

Tokunaga Kanmyo, a priest in Yotsuya, wrote how he had to field questions from distraught parishioners on a daily basis. He echoed what other like-minded thinkers said before: lift the ban.

A Real Modernization Takes Place

It didn’t take long for the anti-cremation movement, never large to begin with, to lose steam in the face of a growing bitter populace. In May 1875, the government bowed to public pressure and repealed the ban. Cremation advocates and citizens alike rejoiced; some families who’d unwillingly buried their dead exhumed and cremated them.

Crematory Workers Step Up

As unpopular as the ban was, it revealed serious infrastructural problems requiring immediate solutions. Smoke remained an issue for many health-conscious citizens. Not long after the ban ended, the Senju onbo submitted blueprints for a more modern crematorium, including smokestacks, separate structures for different types of cremation, and a thorough sanitary protocol. Sects in Kyoto dug deep into their coffers and constructed two “Western-style” brick crematoriums that soon became a tourist attraction. These crematoriums were so impressive that in 1884 the British government requested the blueprints to aid in the construction of London’s first crematorium. Open-air cremations still remained popular in rural areas, but over the years more modern crematoriums slowly spread throughout the nation.

Ban Begone

The government wasn’t quite done controlling how people handled their dead, though it certainly learned not to overstep again. In 1897, the government decreed mandatory cremation of people who died from infectious diseases. Ironically enough, the government touted the power of fire as a destroyer of pollution and disease. Cremation also became so secular that in the 1880s some Buddhists felt it necessary to remind the public of cremation’s ties with Buddhism.

Today, Japan boasts one of the highest cremation rates in the world at 99.9% in 2018. Death rites have become even more streamlined. So, while the failed Meiji era cremation ban barely lasted two years, it unexpectedly provided the springboard for a true modernization of Japan’s crematorium infrastructure that is still in place today.

Sources

Bernstein, Andrew. “Fire and Earth: The Forging of Modern Cremation in Meiji Japan.” Japanese Journal of Religious Studies, vol. 27, no. 3/4, 2000, pp. 297-334.

Bernstein, Andrew. Modern Passings: Death Rites, Politics, and Social Change in Imperial Japan. University of Hawai’i Press, 2006.

Fujii, Masao. “Maintenance and Change in Japanese Traditional Funerals and Death-Related Behavior.” Japanese Journal of Religious Studies, vol. 10, no. 1, 1983, pp. 39-64.

Hiatt, Anna. “The History of Cremation in Japan.” JSTOR, 9 September 2015, https://daily.jstor.org/history-japan-cremation/.