The Costs of Denial
 
 
Michael D. Sepesy
Graduate Student
Cleveland,  Ohio,  USA
 
 
Japanese human rights abuses during the second world war, as enumerated by the late Iris Chang in her best-selling book The Rape of Nanking: The Forgotten Holocaust of World War II, distinguish themselves as perhaps some of the most egregious atrocities committed within twentieth century combat and beyond.  Yet, despite repeated unofficial apologies for wartime aggression by government leaders, Japan refuses to demonstrate the sincerity of its remorse by paying reparations to the victims of the nation’s war crimes.  Furthermore, Japanese officials have consistently undermined their professed sorrow and their own efforts for reconciliation by stubbornly resisting a full condemnation of and break from their nation’s sullied past.  While in office, former Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi made annual visits to Tokyo’s Yasukuni Shrine, a site that honors convicted war criminals as well as other deceased soldiers, in direct defiance of warnings by the Chinese government and his more diplomatically minded predecessor Kiichi Miyazawa.  In addition, as recently as April 2007, Japan’s current prime minister Shinzo Abe, who, in a rare move to reestablish Sino-Japanese relations, chose to make his first official trip to China as opposed to Washington, D.C., later commented that there was no proof that thousands of Chinese and Korean women and girls were abducted and forced into prostitution as “comfort women” for the Imperial Army—an assertion made in spite of the number of survivors who have spent decades demanding an official apology sanctioned by Japan’s parliament.  
Abe eventually retracted the statement, but his enigmatic stance on the severity of Japanese war crimes reflects the resistance of Japanese nationalists to accept full accountability for the scope and ferocity of the Imperial Army’s offenses.  Paradoxically, such nationalist maneuvers to defend Japan’s honor by whitewashing, distorting or erasing history injure not only the victims of Japanese misdeeds, but also the very reputation and regional relationships that revisionists and progressive thinkers alike hope to salvage.
That Japan’s evasion of proper restitution continues to negatively affect the victims of that nation’s atrocities is self-evident.  Chang herself provides examples of Nanking survivors who have dwelt in poverty as a consequence of their experiences with the Imperial Army while Japan’s economy (aided by the United States) has flourished.  Moreover companies that participated in setting up concentration camps and torturing prisoners remain protected by the Japanese courts.  According to an April 2007 report from the Xinhua News Agency, the Japanese Supreme Court overturned a decision to reward damages and an apology to two laborers and three families of deceased victims interned by the Nishimatsu Construction Company during the war.1 Since the Chinese government stated in the Sino-Japanese Joint Statement of 1972 that it would not seek reparations from Japan, a move made to improve political relations, plaintiffs in China and Korea have sought to sue for retribution on an individual basis, as with the Nishimatsu lawsuit, their argument being that the 1972 agreement with Japan was only valid at the governmental level. With this latest decision, however, Japan’s court was adamant: the Sino-Japanese Joint Statement negates both China’s ability to seek restitution and that of its citizens.2 Regardless, then, of its leaders’ words of regret and repentance, Japan has, through its judiciary’s actions, crystallized the country’s official policy in dealing with those affected by the torture, rape, germ warfare, and murder with which the Imperial Army ravaged its Asian neighbors—namely, that Japan holds corporate interest above human life, and the “bottom line” above responsible behavior; and such a policy will undoubtedly reopen old wounds and stoke the already smoldering coals of resentment.  For one nation to affirm to another nation that its citizens’ lives are worth nothing is to court ill will and poison further diplomatic relations.
Of course, Japan’s evasion of adequate international justice and failure to make proper restitution to its victims is not unique.  An examination of the actions of both Allied and Axis countries both during and after the second world war, as well as the oppressive measures taken by colonial powers globally, reveals that not only was the twentieth century marked with widespread war crimes by countries as diverse as France, the Netherlands, Great Britain, and the United States (and the more typically vilified Germany, Italy, and Soviet Union) but also that in the majority of cases, the offenders either justified or rejected allegations of wrongdoing, and guilty parties remained unpunished.  However, Japan is in a somewhat unique position in that it has benefited greatly from postwar reparations itself.  Following the inexcusable obliteration of Nagasaki and Hiroshima, the United States helped rebuild the country’s infrastructure, albeit with the cost of restricting Japan’s degree of independence from American coercion.  
This position as a recipient of aid affords Japan an opportunity that it chooses to routinely squander.  The Japanese could take a leadership role in promoting conscientious global citizenship and distance themselves from other nations’ shameful evasions and dismal human rights histories by formally apologizing in a manner suitable to victims’ wishes (and not solely Japan’s own), and by resolving, without the spur of legal action, prodding, or force, to implement a compensation strategy that would be acceptable to recipients and once and for all place old war crimes in the past.  To courageously renounce the international tradition of disgraceful self-preservation that the rest of the world espouses and to stand on the side of justice might usher in a new era of disclosure and global commitment to humane principles.  Viewed from an interpersonal perspective, if an individual violates the law and, when confronted, attempts to hide and lie about his actions to avoid punishment, any moral system would condemn him as a villain and a coward.  By contrast, if such a person, regardless of his transgressions, confesses his crimes, exhibits genuine remorse, and accepts the consequences of his misdeeds, he regains at least a portion of his integrity.  
Yet, instead of unburdening its collective conscience by assuming its responsibility to its victims and willingly extending a hand of mercy, Japan has, like a stubborn tortoise, withdrawn its compassion within an isolating shell of nationalism, and in so doing has forfeited regional stability and doomed the country’s own aspirations.  Concerning the perception of Japan among its Asian neighbors, a 2005 Kyodo News survey elicited responses from 1000 or more citizens from each of three nations: China, Japan, and South Korea.   Researchers conducted the poll at a time when then Prime Minister Koizumi was preparing to once again visit the Yasukuni Shrine; and the results showed that both China and South Korea experienced a marked increase in the number of citizens holding an unfavorable opinion of Japan (83 percent and 75 percent respectively, both figures up from a previous survey).3  Moreover, approximately half of all Chinese and South Korean respondents felt that the resolving of historical tensions between their respective countries and Japan would improve relations.4  Given that the survey was comprised of a rather modest sampling, the outcome supports the notion that Japan’s conduct during World War II continues to resonate as a factor in its reputation today, and that reaching a final settlement on the war crimes restitution issue would likely alleviate much of the friction in the region.  
Unless a country explicitly acknowledges its human rights abuses as unlawful and rejects such actions clearly and emphatically without equivocation, the message left unspoken, expressed intentionally or unintentionally, is that such a nation privately grants itself the right to justify similar behavior in the future.  Until a country can submit its behavior to the same justice that that state would wish for itself and abide by the penalties deemed necessary, its relationships will suffer from mistrust, residual bitterness from injured parties, and an eroded level of international respect.  The United States has yet to learn this lesson, while Japan, though familiar with it, continues to ignore it.  The consequences of not squarely addressing inhumane treatment matters is to risk appearing, directly or indirectly through rationalization, to condone such criminal behavior, and to perpetuate brutal and barbaric practices internationally by failing to promote justice as a prerequisite of civilized society, even when that justice balances its scales against one’s own country.  
Ultimately, Japan’s circumvention of extending any tangible monetary symbol of regret to survivors of the Imperial Army’s aggressions confounds the nation’s own ambitions.  For example, Japan has the aim of one day winning a position as a permanent member of the United Nations Security Council but faces stiff opposition from the Chinese government.  In fact, in the same Kyodo News poll, 87 percent of Chinese and 85 percent of South Korean participants came out against Japan’s bid for permanent member status.5   This resistance, one could argue, may not be unrelated to Japan’s historical record.  Likewise, more than half a century after World War II and with a renewed sense of patriotism, Japan wishes to revisit its constitution and rebuild its military to strengthen the country’s ability to protect itself.  One need not be particularly creative to imagine the reaction of those nations with victims still attempting to receive recompense for the last time a patriotic Japan boasted a strong military presence.  If Japan chose to allay its neighbors’ anxieties by purging itself of its past and paying survivors and their families, its desire to shake off the shackles of postwar restrictions placed upon it, and to do so without its prompting suspicion and antagonism from its neighbors, might be realized.  But Japan’s courts continue to rule against reparation.  Such decisions leave wounds open, subtly excuse the Imperial Army’s barbarism, and reinforce animosity.  As a result, Japan secures for itself assured conflict with surrounding countries whenever that nation displays an urge to be more independent, to upright itself in strength, or to make any move that may call to mind the ghosts of its former colonial will-to-power.
To be sure, victims and their relatives have sought new approaches with which to break through Japan’s fortress of defiance.  Survivors and those representing the deceased have undertaken legal proceedings in their own countries, since Japan will not recognize these cases within its own borders.  Some plaintiffs have investigated mirroring the successes of Jewish Holocaust survivors by looking toward the United States’ courts to conduct litigations.  In light of Japan’s ruling against individuals seeking redress for atrocities, however, the promise of such ventures is dubious unless survivors can gain the notice and support of American voters, who might then pressure their elected representatives to enact legislation or persuade state officials to encourage more cooperation from the Japanese government.  As Chang suggests in The Rape of Nanking, the late 1990s saw rising U.S. interest in holding Japan responsible for its war crimes, and the surge in visibility culminated in HCR 126, a House resolution intended in part to call for an apology from Japan for the mistreatment of prisoners of war and other victims, such as the “comfort women” and survivors of Nanking, and to force Japan to pay restitution to all concerned.6   Despite being sponsored by 78 House representatives, the resolution failed.  
Since the United States is the country with perhaps the most influence on Japan, strategies involving the U.S. may seem more viable to reach survivors’ goals, although America’s current lack of credibility with regard to questions of human rights may subvert our country’s efficacy in engaging Japans’ sympathies.  Nevertheless, should tactics of negotiation not prove effective, America’s clout in the world market and leverage in the U.N. might prove useful tools where moral example fails.  It should be noted that the U.S. itself also entered into a treaty in 1951 that absolved the Japanese of war reparations, thus not guaranteeing success for those wishing to utilize the U.S. justice system.  Immediate legal solutions notwithstanding, perhaps the single best method of causing Japan to reevaluate its position is to adopt the most potent weapon wielded by the postwar Jewish population—to engage the public imagination through the arts, and specifically film.  The sheer volume of material on the Nazi Holocaust has ensured that the words and images depicting its tragedies will forever burn into the public’s memory.    To date there have been only three films depicting the dramatic events of the Rape of Nanking, each project meeting with mixed results, and all of them released primarily to Chinese audiences.  The power of film is that, when done well, it most viscerally and instantaneously fuses ideas with raw emotions, and transforms cold facts into images that reach people’s hearts—and it is from the human heart and its compassion, its outrage, its sorrow, that people can be moved to act toward positive change.  
One thing is certain: to gain harmony in Asia will require more concessions from Japan for its war crimes than simply rhetorical assurances.  The actions of Japanese higher courts have continually undermined the sentiments expressed by passing administrations.  To apologize without offering assistance is an empty gesture.  Unless Japan looks forward to being dogged by decades-old disgraces, to being greeted with misgivings by its neighbors, and to having its goals thwarted into perpetuity by the begrudging descendants of its uncompensated victims, its offerings of peace and good faith must be as visible and real today as its reign of carnage was seventy years ago within the walls of Nanking.
 
 
2.    Ibid.
3.     Kyodo News. “Ex-PM Urges Koizumi Not to Visit Yasukuni.”  China Daily19 June 25,  <http://chinadaily.com.cn/english/doc/2005-06/19/content_452685.htm>
4.    Ibid.
5.     Ibid.
6.    “Expressing the Sense of Congress Concerning the War Crimes Committed by the Japanese Military During World War II.” HCON 126 IH.  25 July 1997. Sponsored by William O. Lipinski.  The Library of Congress.
 
Works Cited
“Expressing the Sense of Congress Concerning the War Crimes Committed by the Japanese Military During World War II.” HCON 126 IH.  25 July 1997. Sponsored by William O. Lipinski.  The Library of Congress.
 
Kyodo News. “Ex-PM Urges Koizumi Not to Visit Yasukuni.”  China Daily19 June 25