Oguri’s background did not fit those of the typical Restoration heroes. He opposed any compromise with the emperor, the court, or the major daimyō, and advocated fighting against the imperial forces, a position for which he was killed in the spring of 1868. In the dominant historical narrative of the Meiji Restoration, Oguri was either vilified or ignored. In the late nineteenth century, former Tokugawa shogunate officials mourned his death as a great loss for modern Japan, and used him as a way to critique the Meiji government. But as a middle-aged, married bureaucrat, his past lacked the adventure that inspired political activists.
Oguri’s image as a local hero in Gunma Prefecture, where he was killed, enjoyed a resurgence in 1915. It was the fiftieth anniversary of the Yokosuka naval base, and Oguri’s one legacy that had an impact on prewar Japan, owing to its role in Japan’s naval victories. Local Gunma historians participated in the Yokosuka City celebrations, passing out pamphlets containing a short biography of Oguri. In 1922, Yokosuka City wanted to build a bust of Oguri and the French architect who constructed the Yokosuka naval base. City officials received contributions from Gunma citizens who became more aware of Oguri as a local hero. Gunma historians wrote articles about Oguri convincing citizens of the need to recognize him as a local and national hero.
Until the 1990s, Oguri had little presence in national popular culture as it related to the Restoration. The only national attention he received occurred when television followed the exploits of would-be treasure hunters, searching for the Tokugawa shogunate money reputedly buried in the mountains of Gunma. According to the legend, Oguri had been charged with burying some of the shogunate’s money for later use against domestic enemies.
Locals succeeded in promoting Oguri to a larger audience. Historians wrote more books about Oguri, Gunma television stations produced documentaries and historical dramas about him, and anniversary celebrations of his life, held at the temple where Oguri lived, gave him greater exposure in the region. The Prefectural Governor and the mayors of Kurabuchi Village (where Oguri was killed) and Yokosuka City petitioned NHK to create a drama about him. In January of 2001, the first full treatment of his life appeared in the annual New Year historical drama. Since then, more books and his own manga series have come out, and he has even made it into a Japanese high school history textbook, sure signs of his rising status in Japanese historical consciousness.
In the 1990s, historical novelists visited Gunma to learn more about Oguri, and adopted many of the major narrative themes of his life from local researchers. In 1994, Shiba Ryōtarō wrote of Oguri:
Oguri was a patriot in every bone of his body, but he wasn’t the type to talk about patriotism. Real patriotism is not about getting loaded and letting the tears flow while talking big. In such times, there are as many of those kinds of patriots as there are dogs in the mountains, fields and towns barking so loudly it bursts my eardrums. Oguri was not that kind of patriot. He sent a new energy through the day to day affairs (of government).15
This differed from his portrayal of Oguri in Ryōma Goes, where Shiba blames Oguri for endangering Japan’s independence by relying too much on the French.16 The extent to which he has changed his mind over the last twenty years suggests just how far Japan has gone in reassessing its past.
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