Cold Open

It’s just after midnight on March 10th, 1945, and the city of Tokyo is under attack.

34-year-old French journalist Robert Guillain runs through the streets of the Japanese capital. It’s late, but he has no problem seeing his way. A huge fire is raging, lighting up the sky. Robert has chosen not to seek the safety of an air-raid shelter, though. Instead, he’s joining the effort to battle the inferno.

A few hours ago, dozens of American B-29 bombers appeared in the sky over Tokyo. They dropped incendiary bombs on the city’s docks and industrial district, and a combination of high winds and highly flammable building materials soon whipped up a firestorm. The flames spread across the city, and the blaze is now so ferocious that Tokyo’s fire crews have put out a call for help.

Robert stops running as he reaches a burning building a few blocks from his own home. A handful of firefighters are trying to tackle the fire, their faces black and sooty.

Robert grabs a pump from an exhausted-looking fireman and begins cranking the handle. The fireman nods in thanks and takes the hose that’s attached to the pump. He aims it at the flames, but little more than a dribble emerges from the end. The city’s water supplies are running out. So the fireman waves Robert forward, trying to get closer to the burning building… but then the roof caves in and the walls collapse.

Robert stares in horror, hoping that the people who lived in the house got out in time. The fireman pulls his sleeve and points urgently down the street. More houses are ablaze, and if they don’t move fast, they’ll all soon be surrounded by deadly flames.

At the end of World War Two, the Japanese will face the huge task of rebuilding their country. Despite the firestorm in Tokyo and the devastating atomic bombs dropped on the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the reconstruction will be a phenomenal success. Japan’s transformation from vanquished enemy of America into a friendly regional powerhouse will be termed the “economic miracle,” and there’s be no greater sign of the country’s astonishing recovery than when it leads the world in opening the first high-speed train line on October 1st, 1964.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is October 1st, 1964: The First Bullet Train.

Act One

It’s May 4th, 1946, in Tokyo, one year after the bombing of the Japanese capital.

67-year-old Foreign Minister Shigeru Yoshida knocks on the door of a large house. Its size is imposing, though its blackened walls suggest that it only just survived the firestorm last March. After a moment or two, the door opens and Yoshida greets the home’s owner: Ichiro Hatoyama, the leader of Japan’s newly formed Liberal Party.

Two days ago, the Liberal Party won Japan’s first postwar general election. Hatoyama was excited to then take charge as the new prime minister, but earlier today, the democratic process hit a snag. The Americans occupying Japan informed Hatoyama that he has been barred from holding public office. Hatoyama served in the prewar Japanese government that invaded other Asian nations, and the Americans are determined to stop him becoming prime minister. But this intervention has sparked a constitutional crisis. Now, it’s unclear who should take charge in Japan.

Shigeru Yoshida takes a seat in Hatoyama's home and the two men immediately get down to business. Unlike Hatoyama, Yoshida is not allied with any political party, and he’s trusted by the Americans as well. So, he offers to act as a middleman and negotiate with the Americans on Hatoyama's behalf. Perhaps with Yoshida's intervention, the Americans might reverse their decision and allow Hatoyama to become prime minister. But Hatoyama just shakes his head. He knows there’s no way that the Americans will change their minds.

So instead, Hatoyama comes up with an alternative plan. He asks Yoshida to join the Liberal Party and become its new leader. Since the Liberals won the recent election, that would mean Yoshida would become Japan’s new prime minister. But Yoshida is hesitant to agree. He’s a diplomat, not a politician, and he envisioned retiring to his villa in the countryside when Japan’s first postwar elections were over. But Hatoyama insists that only Yoshida has the skills needed to lead Japan at this crucial juncture. So reluctantly, Yoshida agrees and over the next few weeks, he secures the backing of the Americans and is appointed prime minister.

With a broad base of support in the country, Yoshida is able to pass a succession of laws to stabilize post-war Japan. He introduces a new American-approved constitution to establish a parliamentary system of government. He overhauls the education system to improve the skills of Japan's workers. And he averts a national crisis when he sees off a general strike called by the Japanese Communist Party.

By the late 1940s, the American occupation of Japan is drawing to a close. And in these years since World War Two's end, the United States’ policy toward Japan has shifted - the country is no longer viewed as a defeated enemy that must be punished for its past crimes, but as a potential ally in the new Cold War with the Soviet Union. Even though Japan will soon be free to determine its own course, Yoshida decides to maintain a strong relationship with the United States. Under the Yoshida Doctrine, as his approach becomes known, Japan will spend very little on its military and instead continue to rely on America for security.

Although some in Japan see this as humiliating, it’s all part of Prime Minister Yoshida's plan. Rather than spend funds on an expensive army, Yoshida wants to focus all of Japan’s resources on economic recovery. He increases production of steel and coal, seeing them as crucial to the rebuilding process. And, under the advice of an American economist, he enacts strict austerity measures to curb rampant inflation. But it's the outbreak of the Korean War in 1950 that really transforms Japan’s economic prospects. Thousands more American troops are deployed to East Asia, stoking demand for goods and services from Japanese business. It’s a development that Yoshida calls “a gift from the gods.”

And six years after he took charge, with Japan on the road to recovery, the American occupation formally comes to an end in 1952. But the departure of American troops and administrators also means the end of the ban on Ichiro Hatoyama serving in government. His return to the political arena sparks conflict in the Liberal Party. By this time, Yoshida has been the Liberal Party leader and prime minister for six years, but Hatoyama still expects him to stand down so Hatoyama can resume his old role. And when Yoshida refuses to resign, Hatoyama sets up a rival political party. Many original liberal party members defect, and Yoshida soon loses a vote of no-confidence and is forced to resign in December 1954. 

But the Japan that Yoshida leaves behind will be very different from the one he took over. It will have one of the fastest-growing economies in the world, and a nation that was on its knees less than a decade earlier will be ready to become a global leader in a new technology.

Act Two

It’s the summer of 1958, at Osaka Station, Japan, four years after the resignation of Prime Minister Shigeru Yoshida.

74-year-old Shinji Sogo stands back and covers his mouth as a diesel train stops at the platform billowing black smoke. Shinji is the president of Japanese National Railways, but when the carriage doors open, even he joins the collective groan from other passengers on the platform. They can all see that the train is already jam-packed.

Japan’s rail system was built during the 19th and early 20th century. The narrow railroad lines were good for snaking through the country’s tough terrain, but the cars they carried were cramped and slow. Nevertheless, Japan’s railways quickly became popular—and no line is busier than the one connecting Japan’s two biggest cities, Osaka and Tokyo. It transports a quarter of the country’s passengers and freight, and today, Shinji is getting a first-hand experience of the hardships his customers have to endure.

A guard blows his whistle signaling that the train is about to depart—but Shinji and countless other passengers are still on the platform. Shinji and the rest of the crowd try to squeeze their way onto the train. And after a moment, Shinji feels a shove from behind. He turns to see one of the station workers pushing him forward, trying to fit as many passengers inside the carriages as possible. Shinji has just made it on board when the doors slam shut, and the train moves off.

For the next few hours, Shinji suffers through an uncomfortable journey. But he makes good use of the time. Shinji is on his way to Tokyo for a meeting with government ministers to discuss the future of Japan’s railways—and during his cramped ride, Shinji concludes that the line between Osaka and Tokyo is no longer fit for purpose. Rather than just upgrading the current narrow-gauge track, though, Shinji comes up with a radical solution: a completely new railway. Shinji wants the new main line, or “Shinkansen,” to be built on wider rails. That will allow trains to travel much faster and reduce congestion since the new trains will be larger and able to make more journeys in a day.

But when Shinji pitches this idea to government ministers, he encounters resistance. Building a completely new rail line means buying up land, laying track, building new stations, and purchasing new trains and carriages. It’s an expensive proposition, and the Japanese government simply isn’t willing to bankroll it.

But Shinji doesn’t give up. To get the funds he needs, he fudges the numbers. He deliberately keeps the estimated cost as low as possible at 200 billion yen, although it’s still the equivalent of more than five billion US dollars today. That convinces the government to pledge at least some of the money he needs - and he starts construction immediately. He then secures the rest of the funding through a loan from the World Bank. These loans come with stringent conditions that could result in hefty penalties if repayments aren’t made on time. But Shinji thinks that the backing of the World Bank is worth it. He knows that financial support from overseas will make it harder for the Japanese government to pull out of the project without losing face internationally.

So, over the course of the next six years, Japanese engineers design and build a railway like none the world has seen. They use a new type of rail with longer segments, eliminating bumpy transitions and ensuring a more comfortable ride. Each carriage is equipped with its own electric-powered motor, removing the need for a heavy locomotive at the front. And the engines are streamlined to lower the air resistance—creating a distinctive shape that soon earns them the nickname “bullet train.”

With all the modern technology and innovation incorporated into its design, the bullet train is phenomenally fast. The first test in October 1962 sees a prototype train reach 118 miles an hour, smashing the record for the fastest electric-powered train. Over the next few months, subsequent tests increase that record to 159 miles an hour.

But such groundbreaking technology pushes the cost of the project even higher, and its budget soon spirals out of control. The extra expense will cost Shinji Sogo his job. He’ll be forced to resign as president of Japanese National Railways in 1963, just as the last few miles of track are being laid making it too late to call off the project. With the money already spent, all that will remain is to see whether the bullet train will be worth it.

Act Three

It’s October 1st 1964, at Tokyo Station, two years after prototype models first broke the electric train speed record.

On a packed platform, 78-year-old Reisuke Ishada waits for the crowd’s applause to die down. Then, as cameramen record the occasion, Reisuke cuts a ribbon attached to the nose of a bullet train. The audience bursts into applause again because Reisuke has just officially opened the Shinkansen to the public.

A year ago, Reisuke took over from Shinji Sogo as president of Japanese National Railways. Many were surprised by his appointment given his age of 78, but Reisuke is a successful businessman, and the Japanese government saw him as a safe pair of hands. When he took charge of the railways, though, Reisuke realized there was too little time to bring the Shinkansen costs down. So all he could do was greenlight the high-speed service and hope it would make a profit.

After the opening ceremony is over, Reisuke boards the bullet train and makes his way to the seats reserved for him and his guests. A ripple of excitement floods through the carriage as the train pulls out of the station. Passengers are delighted by how smooth and quiet the ride is compared to the old diesel trains, and just four short hours later, they arrive in Osaka . The train’s arrival breaks another record. At 130 miles per hour, the Shinkansen is now the fastest passenger service in the world. And it's opened just in time. 

Nine days after the first train departs, the opening ceremony of the 1964 Olympic Games takes place in Tokyo. Thousands of visitors descend upon Japan, and many make use of the new bullet trains. But the Shinkansen remains busy after the Olympic too, thanks especially to its popularity with business commuters. Within less than three years, 100 million journeys will have been made on bullet trains. And as the decades pass, the network will be expanded and upgraded, and most of Japan’s major cities will be connected by services traveling at speeds of up to 200 miles an hour.

Although train lines in China and Indonesia have since surpassed the Shinkansen in terms of speed, the Japanese rail network is still one of the fastest and busiest in the world. It may not be a record-breaker anymore, but the bullet train remains an enduring symbol of Japan’s postwar recovery - as it has been ever since the first departed Tokyo Station on October 1st, 1964.

Outro

Next on History Daily. October 2nd, 1957. The Bridge on the River Kwai premieres in London before winning seven Oscars and becoming the biggest box office success of the year.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammed Shahzaib.

Sound design by Gabriel Gould.

Music by Thrumm.

This episode is written and researched by Scott Reeves.

Edited by Dorian Merina.

Managing producer, Emily Burke.

Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.