Japan's imperial family largely shuns the media, except for mannered press events. One of these was put on for then taoiseach Bertie Ahern in 2004, a year before the emperor made a state visit to Ireland.
On a sunny morning, I was among a party of journalists assembled inside the grounds of the imperial palace, set in 115 sprawling acres of manicured greenery in the heart of Japan’s capital.
We were met by an unsmiling official with the Imperial Household Agency, the bureaucracy that organises the emperor's life. He raised a fuss over the dress code of an RTÉ cameraman, sparking a mad scramble for a jacket before our 11am deadline to meet the emperor.
On the way to the emperor’s meeting room, the official complained that it was “rude” to turn up in informal clothes to meet his majesty. He then berated me for walking in the centre of the long hallway leading to the room. “Only his majesty walks in the centre,” he said.
We were told we would have 90 seconds to photograph the emperor as he arrived to greet Ahern. We should be careful not to make any noises when he entered the room.
Horror
Such is the protocol for running the world’s oldest hereditary monarchy. Imperial household bureaucrats look with horror at the modernisation of the British royal family and are determined to protect the aura of mystery and uniqueness around their own institution.
Within the limits of his role, the emperor has tried to bring the monarchy down to earth, while preserving its core rituals. But although still revered by some, particularly older, Japanese, many youngsters are indifferent to the imperial family.
The end of Akihito’s reign nears just as traditionalists who resent this indifference are in the ascendency. Conservatives have always bristled at the emperor’s curtailed post-war role as “symbol” of the state.
For them, the emperor is a pole of cultural and even spiritual permanence in a period of flux and uncertainty. "His majesty is the essence of Japan, " I was once told by Yuko Tojo, granddaughter of wartime prime minister Hideki Tojo.
Akihito seemed content to inhabit his reduced role – he used the phrase “symbol of the state” no fewer than seven times in yesterday’s short address. It remains to be seen what direction his successor will take the institution once he steps down.