Chapter 105: The Origin of the Dutch–Japan Conflict

The Crossing Faction's intent was crystal clear: since history had already changed, the incident in which the Japanese Hamada Yahyoe kidnapped Nuytz, originally set to unfold in Dayuan the following year, would certainly not happen now.

Considering that under these circumstances, if the original conflict was never ignited, then the Dutch Shang Hall, which historically had been shut down because of the kidnapping, might continue operating in Japan—that was intolerable. So now the Transmigrators had to use the leverage at hand to make up for this historical deficit that worked against them, draw up the list in advance, and kick the Dutch out of the Japan trade players entirely.

Looking across the entire early colonial history of East Asia, in the Dutch–Japan Trade Dispute, the sheer thuggishness of both sides' players was enough to earn the admiration of later generations. The difficulty wasn't even there—the difficulty was this: treating thuggish behavior as truth, and believing in it without a shred of doubt, that was what was truly not simple.

First, the Dutch. The Dutch had strength, especially in the first half of the 17th century—undisputedly the world's number one channel distributor, number one logistics provider. Zheng Zhilong understood Dutch strength; even when Zheng Zhilong was at the peak of his life, Dayuan could still buy enough raw silk from him every year to ship to Japan for sale.

Wasn't there the Liaoluo Bay Victory? In the several major clashes before that, Zheng Zhilong hadn't suffered losses either, so why carve out flesh for the Dutch? In truth, Zheng Zhilong knew better than anyone: leave the coastal areas with their complex sea conditions, leave his advantage in troop strength, leave behind those single-use fire ships that couldn't sail far, and he would be utterly thrashed. Simply put, more than enough to defend home, not enough to venture out.

Colonizers whose tactical doctrine was built around hot-weapon projection had long since fundamentally overwhelmed primitive cold-weapon native armed forces; this gap wasn't something you could make up by setting up a grand formation at your doorstep and winning a few battles.

Therefore, the Dutch occupation of Dayuan was the result of compromise after several bloody battles on land and sea, once Great Ming and Zheng Zhilong acknowledged the other side's strength.

Yet there was one Japanese who did not acknowledge this strength.

Hamada Yahyoe, the foreign-trade captain under the great Nagasaki merchant Noetsujirō, had a different interpretation of strength.

At that time, if a Red Seal Ship sailed directly to Fujian, it couldn't buy raw silk, because Zheng Zhilong forbade it. The Japanese market was Lao Zheng's base territory; Lao Zheng allowed the Dutch to peddle silk because they had forced their way in through sheer strength. A Japanese merchant like Hamada Yahyoe, Lao Zheng wouldn't even spare a glance for.

So this thug Hamada thought up a "brilliant move": If I'm not allowed to go to Fujian to buy silk, then I can just fly the Dutch flag, can't I? I could even borrow a Dutch ship to use—Lao Zheng doesn't dare mess with Dutch square-rigged ships...

And so, Brother Hamada and the big boss behind him, Nagasaki Daikan (Mayor) Suetsugu Heizō, came together to Dayuan, and then, with extreme formality, made their demand of the Red Hair: Lend us your ships and flag to use. It won't be for nothing—I'll pay rent, you know. And I'll even put up my own ship as collateral. Surely that puts your minds at ease?

... Yes, you read that right. Historically, Hamada Yahyoe was just this bafflingly self-assured, making such a ludicrous demand of the Dutch.

A weakling to a wolf, both fretting over raw silk: I've got some raw silk stashed in the tiger's territory; now lend me your wolf's hide for a bit, and when I haul it back I'll give you a little hide-rental fee. That was roughly the idea.

Could the Dutch thugs tolerate that? Of course not. The Dutch, who had intended all along to squeeze out every Japanese, began a series of moves targeting Brother Hamada and the Japanese merchants: refusing to rent ships, banning Japanese from traveling to Fujian, refusing to meet with the Nagasaki Daikan, and the cruelest of all—taxation, starting to levy a ten-percent tax in Dayuan.

The Dutch conducted a great deal of bulk trade in Nagasaki every year, and the Japanese had never taxed them. Now, right in front of the Nagasaki Mayor, they began taxing the Japanese at ten percent. The Dutch thugs likely thought: Collecting taxes in Dayuan and paying no taxes in Nagasaki were both probably perfectly justified by heaven... perhaps God operated in this manner, so his flock simply acted accordingly.

The above is the origin of the Dutch–Japan Trade Dispute: a ludicrous demand met with a ludicrous response, thug against thug, both sides' moves so crude and direct, with not a shred of consideration for the reasonableness of the methods or the consequences. In any case, that's how it happened.

What allowed Hamada Yahyoe to conceive such a thuggish demand? The decay of morality or the distortion of humanity?... In truth, what stood faintly behind Hamada backing him up was not a person, but the market.

The enormous trade the Dutch generated in Nagasaki every year was the very source of the weakling Hamada's audacity. Hamada Yahyoe's boss was the merchant Noetsujirō, Noetsujirō's close friend was Nagasaki Daikan Suetsugu Heizō, and who was Suetsugu Heizō's boss? The Shogun.

The ground lines had long been laid.

The Dutch would soon pay the price for their thuggish conduct: that old thug Hamada, seemingly a weakling, had a wire plugged into his forehead.

Mayor Suetsugu Heizō, having been cold-shouldered by the Dutch in Dayuan in 1626, was forced to winter there. After returning to Japan full of resentment the following year, he began ordering a blockade of the Dutch Shang Hall and trade. In short, the humiliation suffered in Dayuan was repaid in kind by the Mayor's own hand.

Only then did the Dutch wake up as if from a dream: So after they roughed up someone's mayor and collected taxes in Dayuan, the guy didn't forget about it once he got home? Damn, the Japanese are too thuggish—quick, send an envoy to smooth things over!

And so, the newly appointed third Governor of Dayuan, Mr. Pauw Nuyts, had barely arrived in Dayuan from Batavia before he rushed off to Japan. Before leaving for Japan, the only thuggish thing he did in Dayuan was this: he duped Hamada Yahyoe, pretending to agree to rent him a ship. After stabilizing Hamada, he hurried off to Japan to mend relations. Afterwards, Hamada was given the runaround by the Dutch left behind in garrison—in short, if it was a ship he wanted, there was none; if it was anything else... there was also none.

No sooner had Mr. Nuyts set out from Dayuan than the duped thug Brother Hamada, realizing he'd been tricked, promptly bamboozled sixteen natives from the local area and set off right behind him for Japan to seek revenge. At this time, Nuyts arrived in Japan, and he could figure out with his heel that he wouldn't get an audience with the Shogun; meanwhile, Hamada, with the wire plugged into his forehead, through the Nagasaki Daikan pulling strings and building bridges, swaggered right into the Shogunate with his sixteen natives. This native team, flying the banner of "returning to allegiance and offering land," not only met the Shogun but also received gifts and rewards.

So, Brother Hamada's thuggish behavior had the entire Japanese official and merchant class endorsing it behind the scenes; it was a fierce game of wits between a channel distributor leveraging its familiarity with the territory and a major channel distributor.

In real history, Nuyts never managed to get an audience with the Shogun, so he returned to Dayuan in December 1627. At that point, the Dutch commercial and trade system in Nagasaki was in a perilous state of deep freeze.

But in this timeline, when he returns to Dayuan, he'll find the Shang Hall already occupied by the Transmigrators. Of course, for him personally, this is a good thing—he won't be kidnapped in the future. Unfortunately, only the Transmigrators know this; Mr. Nuyts himself is completely unaware.