Emperor Discusses Life, Policy, and Troyes with Sekai: Full Transcript
Sekai Staff
06/17/2024
His Majesty the Emperor sat down for an interview with Sekai at the Imperial Palace on the 12th of June. Over the course of the interview, he spoke about his past, offering an unprecedented look into his views on his childhood, the role of the Emperor, and his time at the Naval Academy, not to mention his views on a number of policies, including both the situation in Troyes and efforts by the government to build new affordable housing. Below is a lightly edited transcript of the interview conducted by Sekai Shinkyo Bureau Chief Fumiya Sato and Editor-in-Chief Sachio Yazawa.
Thank you for sparing some time for us, Your Majesty. Before we move into matters of policy, I’d like to ask you a few questions about your own life, if that’s alright.Emperor Eijirō: By all means, fire away.
Despite laws passed in the 1980s which would’ve, in theory anyways, shielded you from the public spotlight, you nonetheless fostered a sort of “media personality” in your youth. How would you say that affected you growing up and until this day?Prior to the abdication of my grandfather, the late Emperor Eikō, back in 2001, I didn’t really receive much attention, seeing as I was, at the time, merely a Prince and thus in the shadow of my father, at the time Crown Prince Nobukatsu. Obviously, it came as a surprise when, following first my father’s enthronement and especially after I turned fourteen, the big tabloids and newspapers—not to mention a veritable army of “fans”, for lack of a better word—started to practically follow me wherever I went. It was frustrating, this “Kotaimania”, as the media called it, but it ultimately just became another fact of my life, sorta like how I was to one day become Emperor myself.
I think the worst part of it, ultimately, was that this phenomenon existed across the globe. My first experience with it in an international sense was back in ‘06, when my father took me and my younger brother on a visit to Paechon in order to commemorate his fifth year on the throne—this being back when they still recognized my father as their head of state. Here I was, age thirteen and standing in a country I’d never set foot in, being accosted by the media and civilians alike. I believe I thought to myself
”Why me? Why is it that I, not my father, am getting this sort of attention?” And of course, if Paechon was bad, then you can just imagine how it was when I arrived in Achkaerin for my second year of foreign studies. Of course, by then, I had gotten used to it, and even found that it could be useful in furthering support for the causes I care about. Combating climate change and wildlife conservation, namely, but also a number of others too. The point is, I suppose, at first it was difficult to adjust to, but in the end, and I hope you don’t mind me saying this, I came to see the media as a force which can be leveraged for good rather than as a threat to my privacy.
An interesting point, sir. You mentioned your grandfather’s abdication, and I apologize if it may seem harsh to say, but given your father’s illness in his later years, do you in any way blame him for it?Well, I can’t exactly blame him for it, given that the exact causes of duodenal cancer still aren’t known, but I will admit that, to some extent, I did harbor resentment for my grandfather, at least initially. After all, prior to taking the throne, my father didn’t smoke, but he took up the practice as a means to cope with the stresses of his position, so you can see how one might be tempted to “connect the dots”, so to speak, even if that connection is flimsy at best. In the end, though, I believe that everyone makes their own choices with regards to how they live their life, and my grandfather chose that he couldn’t adequately perform his duties. Likewise, my father could have chosen to stand aside and allowed me to take the throne instead, but he sacrificed his own happiness so that I might be able to have a relatively normal childhood. And it was a sacrifice that, in the end, he paid for. So no, at the end of the day, I don’t really blame him anymore than I blame my father for his means of coping with stress or myself for not being ready to take the throne then and there.
Would you say that your father and grandfather helped shape your views on what role an emperor should take, and what are those views?My grandfather, back before he died, taught me that to be Emperor, one must have empathy and kindness in his heart. After all, how can he “share in the joy and sorrows” of the people if he can’t put himself in their shoes? Likewise, when dealing with others, especially in the great arena that is international relations, it’s often quite useful to be able to see the other guy’s perspective, however flawed it can, from time to time, be. But I do believe there’s more to being the head of state of such a great nation as our own. And to be called to serve it in this capacity, even until death? Though sacrifices are always made, it is the greatest honor I know of.
I often reflect on what my predecessors thought of, and I am reminded of what Emperor Tenji, writing in the 7th century, said to his son. He wrote, essentially, that a good Emperor leads a virtuous life, acting morally and treating the people with respect, not contempt. Emperor Taisō expressed, in his own writings from the late 8th century, great sorrow at the sight of the people suffering from famines and plagues, saying that he, as “father to the people, felt great pain that he could not reach out in benevolence to help the people.” I feel deeply inspired by the words of these past Emperors, so much so that I will cherish their words, even after all these centuries, and take the lessons they taught to heart. Bearing in mind these words, I have committed to self-improvement, if only that I may better lead our people.
What was school like, given that you were an emperor in the making?Pretty normal, as I understand. I mean, yes, the
gakushuin system is generally seen as a sort of elite school for the rich and powerful, but it hasn’t been that way since about 1950 or so. Of course, I’m sure that to some, given that I spent two years abroad, my education was anything but normal, but overall, yes, it was about the average, at least for Shinkyo. As it happens, I was
expected to attend Gakushuin University, but we all know I didn’t quite do that, did I? It wasn’t as though I had anything against the school; I’m certain that it is among the best universities on this side of Ardia. I simply felt called to do something different with my life, to serve my nation in my own way, much like my uncle had. It was a tricky process, getting into the Naval Academy at Nomijima, since they are very,
very strict about not giving favor to those of… advantageous backgrounds such as myself, but somehow, I managed it.
Would you care to touch on your time at Nomijima? Any highlights, observations, or experiences that stand out?The first thing that stood out to me wasn’t the school itself, but rather, the people. Nomijima attracts people from all walks of life and from many cultures which can be found within our nation. On I-Day—induction day—I saw native Fusanese standing in line alongside Dalseomin and the children of immigrants, those born into privilege alongside those whose families faced privation. All of them, including myself, were united in our purpose: We were going to serve and protect our nation with loyalty, respect, valor and righteousness, as urged by Emperor Keiō in 1882. I won’t deny that I felt pride as we passed through the doors of the academy, as much like a
torii gate marks the border between the mundane and the sacred, that door was the transition from our old lives into a new world.
Another thing which stuck out to me after my arrival was the restrictions we had in place. For starters, as a first year—plebes, as we were called—I wasn’t allowed to listen to music, watch television or movies, or even doze off after classes, and obviously, we couldn’t leave the campus, let alone live off it. It was, in effect, just a year-long boot camp, with the “seconds”—third years—serving as our drill instructors alongside a handful of RDCs. We were quite literally the lowest class, and the academy made sure we knew it. It was only with my second year there that I started being given respect, and even then, I couldn’t leave the academy unless it was for “official business”, which is to say if the navy wanted us to appear in a parade or some other event. The third year was much better in that regard; I was allowed to have a car—I couldn’t park it on campus, though—and I could leave the academy on my own time, though only if it were on the weekends or over summer break. It was only in my fourth year that I was allowed to live off campus, and I wound up spending my time mostly in a house near Kyure, seeing as it was a fair bet that I’d be posted there after graduating.
Naturally, I made a few friends there as well, as one often does in such an environment. “Misery loves company” and all that. For example, I have a good friend in the form of my cousin, Dae Sang-cheol, who entered the academy around the same time I did. He’s the reason I first learned to speak Dalseomin, which made me the first member of my family—excluding any cadet branches of course—to learn the language. Of course, by then I was practically fluent in English too, on account of my time in Achkaerin and my father’s insistence that I learn it growing up, so that certainly helped later on in my career, once I started training to become a pilot. Either way, if nothing else it helped pass the time. Another example would be Haruto Umeki, one of my seniors who helped to show me the ropes when I first arrived and certainly helped make the early days ever-more tolerable. So I would say that, in the end, my days spent at the academy were rather pleasant, if difficult from time to time, and I would never regret the experience.
During your time at Nomijima, you met your future wife, now-Empress Mayumi. How exactly did you meet, and would you go as far as to say it was love at first sight, or perhaps it was something that had to grow with time?We met at a party being held by her father, Viscount Eikichi Tachibana, in honor of my father’s fifty-second birthday. This would’ve been on the 10th of August, 2013, so by then I’d had the freedom to leave the campus on weekends, and seeing as the celebration was at his estate just outside of Hatsukaichi, I decided I would attend alongside my parents and siblings. To tell you the truth, I didn’t exactly go out of my way to meet people, instead electing to enjoy the evening on the shore of Lake Inaba. Lovely place, but that’s besides the point. Now, whether you call it fate or merely luck—whether good or bad—I was fortunate enough to meet her, though only after falling in the lake and having to drag myself out. It was… not one of my prouder moments, but that’s when I saw her, offering her hand to help me out of my predicament.
I won’t deny that in most cases, the idea of “love at first sight” is kinda ridiculous, but… Well, you know the story. I found myself smitten by her, and she returned those feelings in turn, so we began seeing each other a few weeks later and the rest is history. We did take things slow at first, but I eventually worked up the nerve to propose to her back in 2018, and we got married in a private ceremony in 2019. That being said, in order to put aside any concerns held by certain parts of the population, we held a second, purely religious ceremony back in 2022, and we were blessed to welcome our children into the world later in that year.
She is my strength and my comfort, as my mother was to my father, before he died. I do believe that I would not be half the man I am now if I hadn’t met her on that fateful evening, and certainly not as suited to my position as I am.
One final personal question before we move on, since late 2018, there has been much speculation that the Imperial Household Ministry has been cooperating with NASDA on possibly sending a member of the Imperial House to the Heiwa Space Station in the near future. Back before taking the throne, given your experience and your passion for the space program, it was often speculated that you might be chosen for it. Now that you are Emperor, and given that just under six years have passed since then, do you know if that will still happen, and if so, what do you say to the people who believe it a waste of taxpayer money? Is it worth it?Now that is a good question, one which I am, thankfully, able to answer too. Fusan has long had a history of politicians flying aboard missions into orbit, starting with Representative Daizō Handa’s flight in 1985, early on in the MOS program, ostensibly as a sort of fact-finding mission. He said at the time, quote "I believe that it is a necessity that sitting members of the Diet check things out that they vote for and make certain that funds are being spent adequately. It might be necessary to have a Representative kick the tire". This landmark mission helped to spur deeper cooperation between the agency and the nation’s government, which even resulted in a member of the Imperial Family—my first cousin—Prince Haruhisa flying aboard an orbiter in ‘96. So as far as precedent goes, a member of the Imperial House flying to the station or perhaps even beyond is hardly unheard of.
That brings us to the matter at hand, however. Like you said, it was indeed speculated that I could fly up to Heiwa, both to offer greater publicity for our nation’s space program and to report to the Diet and to the people on where their money is being spent. As Heiwa has been completed for nearly two decades now, and with NASDA looking beyond Low Mundus Orbit for the first time since the Tsukuyomi era, that means only one thing: If this mission is to occur, at least now that we have a semi-sustainable presence beyond Mundus, then it would require more than a brief visit to the station or a flight aboard an orbiter. What I’m trying to say is that whoever is selected to fly will, in all likelihood, be setting foot on the lunar surface.
Just think of what that would represent, having someone of such a station setting foot on another world. It would be… unprecedented, not merely for Fusan, but for the world at large. It was one thing, sending mankind to the moon back in the 60s, and it was indeed a massive undertaking, but having, say, a head of state set foot on the surface of the moon would tell the world that spaceflight has become regular enough and safe enough that the future is essentially upon us. And, speaking hypothetically of course, if it were to happen, it might be sooner than you think, even if there were still some concerns among the IHM over safety. So is it worth it?
I would say it is. It’s dangerous, I know that much to be true, and we as a species have lost many lives in the pursuit of our journey into the cosmos, but everyone who signs up for it knows the risks that are involved. Are there sacrifices that have to be made? Of course, but sacrifice is a part of any journey of exploration which we as a species have undertaken. To take risks is to be human, and to avoid them entirely is to give up on the idea of progress. Taking precautions to avoid failure is the right thing, but we would never have made it as far as we have without taking those risks. So I would say yes, for the sake of the progress of our species, spaceflight in general and this mission in particular are, in fact, necessary, and the costs will, in the end, be worth it.
Moving on, in just over a month from now, we will be coming up on the first anniversary of the dreadful attacks by the People’s Armed Forces of Kalasin which left nearly 5,000 people dead in Awara and Pyrettania, and as it stands, Thaksin Prateung remains at large. What do you have to say to those who lost their friends and family as a result of these attacks, and is there anything you can say regarding the search?I’d like to begin with the second part of your question, if that is alright. While I cannot offer any specifics with regards to our search for the ringleader of that terroristic plot due to national security concerns, I will say that we remain optimistic that he has not fled abroad, and we will do everything in our power to ensure he does not escape. The walls are closing in, that much is certain, and as God is my witness, we will not rest until he and everyone else who was involved, from the planning stage to putting it into operation is made to answer for their crimes. Justice will be done, whether it means he get his day in court or, if capture proves impossible, ensuring that he cannot—will not—harm again.
But my mind continues to drift to the events of those first days, back when the attacks on Awara and Pyrettania were still fresh and we were still asking those important questions, “who?” and “why?” Likewise, my heart continues to ache for those who lost their loved ones during that black week, not to mention the countless more who were left wounded by the attacks. The fact is, there’s nothing that I could say that would make things right, no words which could undo the damage, bring back the dead. What I can do, however, is say that no matter who you are, no matter if you were in Fusan or Rokkenjima, or if you live beyond and lost someone to these attacks, tonight, you do not mourn alone, for Fusan mourns with you, and we will never forget what was lost.
Sticking with the question of Foreign Policy, are you concerned about the situation in Troyes, and what is your view on the government’s policy towards the city?I would like to refrain from stating my personal opinions on this matter, however, I will nonetheless reiterate the government’s position that Troyes is an inseparable part of the Republic of Marseilles, unlawfully seized by the Kingdom of Seaforth and until recently, wholly occupied by the state. Working in concert with our allies in the ADSN, we will make every effort in order to ensure a peaceful resolution to this crisis, ideally with the end result of the city being restored to Marseillaise control. I am certain that cooler heads will ultimately prevail, though I have expressed my concerns to Prime Minister Konishi that any efforts by the Kingdom to reinforce their position would only escalate the situation, and that a conflict in the Shaw would not only disrupt the nation’s economy, but also distract us from our ongoing operations in Kalasin. Beyond that, I will once again refrain from saying any further.
Looking back, do you feel that you were, in any way, deceived or strung along with regards to last year’s “war” over the Tokara Islands? What would you do differently if you could go back?Everyone has their regrets, things which they wish they could change or do better, and I will not deny that I feel the conflict over those islands was, ultimately, not worth the lives that were lost as a result. At the end of the day, the event that started the war, the shootdown of Akawashi 304, was a horrible tragedy, one instigated by mistrust following the effective dissolution of the CSTO as a relevant organization and at the urging of a premier who sought power at the expense of the lives of those uninvolved in his machinations on both sides of the Bekira. While I will not say that either I or the government at large was misled, it provided the perfect ammunition for certain elements within the Diet to push for war, and thus, nearly twenty years of progress were just about undone.
As for myself, though I am, under Article 13 of the Constitution, the only authority by which a declaration of war can be made, this has always been a formality. The fact of the matter is that the Diet voted to declare war, and as sovereign, being bound to support the government, I had little recourse but to support that decision. It is only after having had the time to reflect that I wonder if I could’ve done more. My great-grandfather, after all, stood up to the government of Prime Minister Yagami in the closing days of the Great War and demanded that we make peace. Likewise, I could’ve—no,
should have followed in his example and refused to offer my assent to that declaration, even if doing so risked a constitutional crisis. In that, I will admit I made a mistake, and as a result, too many people who could’ve had long lives instead lost them.
On a much lighter note for our final question, in the last year, we’ve seen an increase in the construction of affordable housing across Fusan as part of Prime Minister Konishi’s efforts to combat the ongoing housing crisis. As this is a cause which you have supported for many years now, could you comment on it?Certainly. While I acknowledge that Mr. Konishi has done more to combat this shortage in affordable, sturdy housing, it is quite simply not enough to directly invest in construction for a year and then call it a day. This is a battle which must be waged day in and day out for years on end, and the government must take a more active step in building these houses itself. So long as we rely on private companies alone, we cannot expect that our goals will be fully achieved, and as this directly impacts the lives of our most vulnerable citizens, it is the duty of the government to step in. Once again, I commend the effort being made, but we simply need to do more than we currently are, and it is my sincerest hope that, in the months to come, we shall.
