Mikatagahara, Masayoshi Son and Ieyasu’s counterfactual portrait

Masayoshi Son apologises for stock losses August 2022

It's not often that a billionaire CEO references a work of art in an important speech to his investors, but Masayoshi Son, CEO of Softbank, did just that in August when he apologised for the loss of some 6 billion yen's worth of value from his company. The painting he referenced was the Portrait of Tokugawa Ieyasu painted after the battle of Mikatagahara. The reason was that Ieyasu, too, had just suffered an appalling defeat and had the painting made so he would never forget it - an act of contrition.

Art and literature can provide valuable historical insights into a period, but the quality of these insights varies according to the way they are interpreted. Kudos to Son for his use of the painting – the choice was perfect, but for one thing: recent research suggests the story of its creation is actually a fiction.

Portrait of Tokugawa Ieyasu after the
Battle of Mikatagahara - or is it?

But to go back a little, first let’s mention the battle itself. It is a common question among fan boys of all ages who would have beaten who if they had fought. With the daimyo of Sengoku Japan (roughly the 16th century) these questions can often be resolved by looking at the historical record, as many of these generals did fight each other. In this case, it was Takeda Shingen, one of the most famous warlords of eastern Japan who came up against Tokugawa Ieyasu, who would become the last and the most powerful of the three unifiers of the country. 

Shingen was taking his army through the edge of Ieyasu’s territory on the way to attack the forces of Oda Nobunaga (an ally of Ieyasu), and possibly push through to Kyoto. Ieyasu thought, despite strong advice to the contrary, that he would take the opportunity to catch this dangerous rival on the march. It didn’t work out as Ieyasu had hoped. Shingen had anticipated and prepared for such an eventuality, and instead of Ieyasu taking him by surprise, it was the other way round. Ieyasu, outnumbered, was sent flying in a panicked headlong dash for the safety of his castle, arriving with more than just his honour besmirched. Embarrassed at his failure and his sorry state, he had an artist sketch him as he was, to serve him as a reminder of his defeat. This sketch became the basis of the painting, which, so the stories go, he used to carry with him on his campaigns as a reminder of his defeat.

The painting was kept by a branch of the Tokugawa family, and was first shown to the public in 1936, and its origin explained as above, in the (then) recently opened Tokugawa Art Museum. The fall of the Tokugawa from their position of pre-eminence was fairly recent history in the 1930’s, and still within living memory for the older generation. The Tokugawa shogunate had been overthrown by the Imperial army, and of course, the emperor had gone on to become an even more important figure in the country than previously. Presenting Ieyasu as someone fallible, (unlike the emperor), might be seen as an attempt to reposition the Tokugawa legacy in a more favorable light.

It’s a nice story, but recent scholarship has cast doubt on nearly every aspect of this tale. The first known appearance of the painting, in a catalogue of the holdings of a branch of the Tokugawa family in the 19th century has the painting labeled as ‘Portrait of Tokugawa Ieyasu after his defeat at the Battle of Nagashino’ – a completely different battle, and one that was a resounding victory for Ieyasu (also against Takeda forces, but this time commanded by Shingen’s son, Katsuyori). It is thought that someone looking through the catalogue realized this, and relabeled the work as the Battle of Mikatagahara. Another point of contention is the clothes, and especially the footwear, of Ieyasu in the painting. The battle was fought in January, but Ieyasu is depicted with bare feet, wearing light sandals, entirely unsuitable for the time of year. 

Even the pose adopted by the figure in the painting, with one hand to his face, his foot on one knee, eyes glaring and biting his lip, once interpreted as showing fear and frustration at the time of his defeat, has been reassessed. This pose is, in fact, a mirror image of what is sometimes termed ‘the pensive Bodhisattva’ by art historians. In Japan, it is best known in depictions of Miroku Bosatsu (Maitreya Bodhisattva). The glaring eyes and exposed teeth are also part of Buddhist iconography, used in depictions of fierce Buddhist guardian deities. In all likelihood, rather than being linked with any historical episode, the painting is a religious image, used for private devotional practices. 

Nyoirin Kannon of Chuguji Temple
(Although the temple regards this as an
image of Kannon, some art historians consider
it more likely that it was originally meant to
depict Maitreya Bodhisattva -
Japanese 6th -7th century CE)

Maitreya Bodhisattva (Korean 6th-7th century CE)

There have even been questions as to whether it is Ieyasu who is depicted – the face is closer to the typical image of Toyotomi Hideyoshi. There has been no corroborating evidence found on this front, but wouldn’t that be a turn up for the books?

Detail of posthumous portrait of Toyotomi Hideyoshi (Kano school c. 1598)

Detail of posthumous portrait of Tokugawa Ieyasu
(Kano Tanyu c.1650)