Latest / The History of Portugal: The Small Nation That Built a Global Empire — Fexingo History / Portugal's Silk Road to Japan: The Nanban Trade
Transcript
- Lucas: For anyone coming with us through these conversations about Europe’s reach, it’s easy to picture the Portuguese Empire only in terms of fortresses and spice fleets. But there was another front entirely, one built on silk, guns, and a faith that would ultimately be banished. Luna: You mean Japan? Lucas: Exactly. While we’ve covered the brutal geopolitics of Goa and the spice wars in the Moluccas, the story in Japan is different. It starts not with a cannonade, but with a curiosity. In 1543, three Chinese sailors drifted onto the island of Tanegashima carrying black powder guns. That single event triggered what the Japanese called the Nanban trade, or Southern Barbarian trade. Luna: Because they came from the south? Lucas: Right. To the Japanese, Europe was off the southern horizon. The term Nanban stuck for decades, describing everything from the tall, bearded traders to their strange ships. But it wasn’t just weapons. It was tobacco, spectacles, and eventually, Christianity. Two years after the guns arrived, a Portuguese merchant ship docked at Kagoshima, and soon after, a priest named Francis Xavier stepped onto Japanese soil. Luna: Xavier must have been a bold choice for a missionary. Lucas: He was incredibly strategic. He learned to write in Japanese using Chinese characters, and he adapted his message to appeal to the samurai class rather than just the common people. He believed that if the leaders converted, the rest would follow. And initially, it seemed to work. By the time he died in 1552, there were already thousands of converts. Luna: And the Portuguese got exclusive trading rights in return? Lucas: Precisely. The Portuguese became the primary bridge between Japan and the rest of the world. They brought silver from China and silk from Macau, exchanging it for Japanese silver and copper. This wealth allowed them to establish a permanent base in Nagasaki, which was granted special status as a free port. It became a cosmopolitan hub where Japanese merchants could interact directly with Europeans without going through intermediaries. Luna: That sounds like a pretty good deal for everyone involved. Lucas: For a while, yes. But it created a tension that no one could fully control. The Portuguese weren’t just traders; they were agents of the Pope and the Jesuit Order. As the number of Christians grew, so did the political influence of the Kirishitan, or Christian, daimyos. Some powerful lords, like Otomo Sōrin in Bungo, converted and even sent young men to Rome to meet the Pope. It made traditional Buddhist and Shinto authorities deeply uneasy. Luna: Did any warlords see the benefits though? Lucas: Oda Nobunaga was the most notable exception. He protected the Jesuits in Azuchi Castle, partly because he saw them as a counterweight to the powerful Buddhist monasteries that had previously challenged his authority. He also appreciated the revenue from the Nagasaki trade. But when Toyotomi Hideyoshi took over, the mood shifted. He began to fear that foreign powers were preparing to conquer Japan, much like Spain had done in the Philippines just across the sea. Luna: So the trade started getting restricted. Lucas: It did. In 1587, Hideyoshi issued an edict expelling missionaries, though he didn’t immediately ban all trade. But it was clear the window was closing. The real turning point came with the Tokugawa Shogunate. After winning the Battle of Sekigahara in 1600, Tokugawa Ieyasu consolidated power and decided that religious uniformity was essential for stability. He banned Christianity outright and began persecuting the Kirishitan. Luna: This feels like the start of the end for the Portuguese presence. Lucas: It was. The Dutch and English, who were Protestant and didn’t bring missionaries, slowly replaced the Portuguese in trade negotiations. The Portuguese, tied to Rome, were seen as a threat. By the 1630s, the Sakoku edicts closed Japan to almost all foreign contact. The Portuguese were expelled, and Nagasaki was restricted to limited trade with the Dutch at Dejima. But before they left, they left behind a cultural legacy that remains today. Luna: Like what kind of legacy? Lucas: Food is a big one. Castella cake, known as kasutera in Japanese, is a direct descendant of the Portuguese sponge cakes brought by traders. Longjing tea and tempura also have roots in this era, though tempura evolved into something distinctly Japanese. Even words like pan and tabako entered the language. These weren’t just imports; they were absorbed into daily life. Luna: It’s funny how food outlasts empires. Lucas: It really is. But the most profound impact was on the people themselves. When the ban on Christianity went into full effect, many believers went underground. They became the Kakure Kirishitan, or Hidden Christians. For centuries, they practiced their faith in secret, hiding statues of Mary disguised as Kannon, the goddess of mercy, to fool inspectors. Luna: They kept the faith alive in total secrecy? Lucas: Yes, especially in remote areas like the Goto Islands and Nagasaki prefecture. They maintained oral traditions and rituals that blended Christian doctrine with folk practices. It wasn’t until 1865, when a French priest accidentally arrived in Nagasaki, that the outside world discovered these communities still existed. They had preserved their identity against all odds. Luna: That is an incredible story of resilience. Lucas: It is. And it shows that while empires rise and fall, and treaties are rewritten, the connections made between people often endure in subtle ways. The Portuguese didn’t colonize Japan, but they changed it. They introduced technologies and ideas that helped shape the modern era, even if those same ideas were later rejected. Luna: So the guns stayed, but the priests left? Lucas: Mostly. The technology spread rapidly among the daimyos, fueling the military conflicts of the Sengoku period. But the religious aspect was purged. Yet, the memory of the Nanban era lingered in art and literature, depicted in screens showing European figures with wide-brimmed hats and high boots. It was a brief, intense chapter that opened Japan to the world, even if only for a short time. Luna: I never thought about castella cake having such a historical backstory. Lucas: Neither did I, until researching this. It makes you wonder what other everyday things have hidden histories like that. Speaking of which, we want to share a quick honest thing with you. A handful of listeners chip in monthly through buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo, and that's literally what funds making this many of these episodes possible. Luna: It keeps the research going without ads. Lucas: Exactly. No algorithms, no sponsors, just history funded by people who enjoy it. If that resonates, you can find the link on our site. Otherwise, let’s get back to the maps. Luna: Where did the Portuguese go after they were pushed out? Lucas: Many retreated to Macau, which became their primary stronghold in China. From there, they continued to facilitate trade between Japan and Europe, acting as neutral intermediaries even after the Tokugawa government restricted direct contact. Macau became a vital node in the global network, connecting Lisbon to Canton and occasionally, through secret channels, to Nagasaki. Luna: So they didn’t disappear completely. Lucas: No. They adapted. The loss of Japan was a blow, but it wasn’t fatal to the empire. They doubled down on India, Africa, and Brazil. However, the experience in Japan taught them a lesson about the limits of soft power. You could introduce goods and ideas, but forcing a religious conversion could provoke a violent backlash that threatened your entire commercial operation. Luna: A hard-learned lesson in diplomacy. Lucas: Indeed. The later attempts by the Spanish and French to spread Catholicism in East Asia would face similar challenges. The Japanese state, once unified under the Tokugawa, became fiercely protective of its autonomy. The Nanban trade ended not with a bang, but with a slow, careful closing of doors that would remain shut for two hundred years. Luna: Two hundred years of isolation after such an open beginning. Lucas: It’s a stark contrast. One moment, Japanese artists were painting detailed scenes of European ships and merchants. The next, those same ships were forbidden, and those merchants were expelled. Yet, the seeds planted during those few decades took root in unexpected places, surviving in the kitchen, the church, and the collective memory of the people. Luna: Do we know how many Kakure Kirishitan survived? Lucas: Estimates vary, but when they were rediscovered in the 1860s, there were tens of thousands of them. Many eventually rejoined the Catholic Church, but some retained their unique hybrid practices. Today, descendants of those communities still live in the Goto Islands, maintaining a living link to that secretive past. It’s a reminder that history isn’t just about dates and battles, but about the people who keep their stories alive. Luna: It puts the empire building in perspective. Lucas: It does. Empires build forts and sign treaties, but individuals build memories. The Portuguese may have lost Japan, but they left a piece of themselves behind that lasted longer than their political control ever could. Luna: That’s a beautiful way to wrap it up. Lucas: Thanks for listening. Next time, we’ll look at how Portugal managed to hold onto its African holdings while the rest of Europe scrambled for territory. Until then, keep wondering.