Raising Spears, Lowering Taxes: The Revolt That Forced Change

In December 1876, the serene rice fields of Mie Prefecture, laden with the chill of winter, became the setting for an extraordinary drama of rebellion and resistance. Farmers, armed with bamboo spears and emboldened by desperation, confronted the modernizing might of the Meiji state. Known as the Ise Riots, this uprising challenged Japan’s new land tax system and revealed the tensions and contradictions of a society hurtling toward modernization. Over six tumultuous days, what began as a localized protest evolved into one of the most significant rural revolts of the early Meiji period.

“A Harvest of Hardship”: The Rural Context of the Ise Riots

For the farmers of Ise Province, the land was life itself. However, in the early 1870s, the Meiji government sought to redefine that relationship through the Land Tax Reform Ordinance of 1873. In theory, this reform aimed to modernize Japan’s economy, replacing the traditional rice-based taxation system with a fixed-rate cash payment equivalent to 3% of a land’s assessed value. The state, however, grossly underestimated the effects of its policy on the rural populace.

In northern Mie Prefecture, local administrators adopted the reforms swiftly, implementing assessments and tax payments with a firm hand. Meanwhile, less administratively integrated southern Mie delayed implementation, leading to uneven burdens across the region. For farmers in the south, their tax burden was calculated using inflated rice prices from 1875, a particularly costly year. Adding to these challenges, the autumn of 1876 brought heavy rains that devastated crops, leaving fields strewn with sand and silt. What farmers saw as the unyielding demands of the tax system was, to the government, simply the cost of modernization. But it was a recipe for ruin for the people who lived closest to the land.

From Petition to Protest: The Spark of Rebellion

The Ise Riots began not with grand declarations but with a humble request. On December 18, 1876, farmers gathered in Hamanase Village, near the Kushida River, to request a delay in the imminent tax collection. Their petitions met a bureaucratic wall of silence. Tensions escalated when rumors spread that the officials were planning to enforce collections without compromise. By dawn, the crowd swelled to over a thousand, fueled by shared grievances and an urgent sense that justice would not be handed down willingly.

With bamboo spears in hand, farmers formed impromptu ranks and began their march. In Matsusaka, a northern center of administration, they converged on government offices and financial institutions. To those wielding torches and axes, these buildings symbolized an alien and oppressive state. The Mitsui Bank, a glaring emblem of the new economic order, became a particular target. Its structure was set aflame as the crowd roared in defiance. The protests quickly spread to neighboring towns, including Yamada (modern-day Ise City), Tsu, and beyond.

“To Tear Down and Burn”: The Violence and Scope of the Uprising

The riots in northern and southern Mie diverged in their tone and targets. In the north, where the reforms had been implemented more comprehensively, the rebellion took a direct stance against the new tax laws. It was a protest of principle, with participants seeking systemic change. In the south, however, the rebellion bore the hallmarks of older peasant uprisings, focusing on immediate relief, particularly reducing inflated rice prices. Here, protestors mimicked the collective village actions of the Tokugawa era, blending centuries-old tactics with their contemporary frustrations.

The scale of destruction was remarkable. Rioters burned schools, government offices, and even the homes of local officials who had cooperated with the Meiji state. At the peak of the rebellion, an estimated 10,000 participants had joined the ranks of the protestors. Farmers also turned their fury against symbols of state-imposed modernization, destroying schools and other institutions that embodied the new social order. The chaos spilled over Mie’s borders into Aichi and Gifu Prefectures, spreading like wildfire through the rural heartland.

The State Strikes Back

The Meiji government, though caught off guard, reacted swiftly. Police reinforcements from Tokyo and soldiers from regional garrisons were deployed to quash the uprising. By December 24, the rebellion was suppressed, but not without significant loss. Thirty-five farmers were killed, and nearly fifty were injured during the government’s crackdown. In the aftermath, over 50,000 individuals faced arrest, with many suffering harsh penalties.

The rebellion, however, left its mark. Stung by the intensity of rural resistance, the Meiji government reduced the tax rate from 3% to 2.5% in 1877, acknowledging the heavy burden the policy had placed on the countryside. While the victory was partial and achieved at great cost, it demonstrated the power of collective action even in the face of overwhelming force.

“A 2.5 Rin Slashed with a Bamboo Spear”

The Ise Riots were a protest against policy and a clash of visions. For the farmers who marched with bamboo spears, their demands were rooted in survival and fairness. For the government, the rebellion was an affront to its authority and a challenge to the project of national modernization. Yet the Ise Riots remind us that modernization was never a monolithic or uncontested process. Instead, it was shaped, in part, by the resistance of those at its margins.

As one contemporary saying captured, the land tax reduction became a point of pride for those who fought: “A 2.5 rin slashed with a bamboo spear.” This poetic phrase encapsulated the hardships endured and the spirit of defiance that animated the rebellion. The Ise Riots remain a testament to the complexity of Japan’s transition into modernity, where the cries of rural Japan reverberated through the halls of power, compelling even the might of the Meiji state to take notice.