Newsletters and Essays

Born in Fukushima, I have come to understand how Fukushima has been intertwined with Japanese national history, related not only to the nuclear power station but to such historical events as  wars, dismantling of empire, repatriation and Japanese post-war resettlement.  Now, I am proceeding a project of developing a new reconciliation studies, which is supposed to function as a tool to pacificate a conflict between national emotions, which seems to have been formulated along with such national events of wars and highper economic developmemt.  In my preposition, national emotions are inclined to conbine international inicidents with local and vivid memories, in such a way as how ‘our’ familiar and ancestors in local level worked in such and such international situations. 

Recently in the process of globalization with human exchange and global media, more and more local memories are inclined to be focused as a source to sustain a national memory, which explains where we are in the world.   In order to formulate the local memory, method of oral history is now actively adopted by researchers.  As I will show you my own ancestor’s story, I came to be connected to Japanese national narratives, which once gave me a power as a researcher and meaning in my own private life.  

Thinking of reconciliation, we must proceed to the next step that is to consider how several different national narratives could be connected with each other. But before proceeding to the reconciliation between nations, it should be jointly understood and shared how each nation itself is being imagined in our own inspiration supported by local memories.  I wish that a kind of new reconciling relation between nations could be imagined somehow in the same way each nation itself is being imagined in our mind. (even with sharing a new value and memory.)

< “Nation” in East Asia >

Before going to the story, I want to underscore the difference in the way each nation has been built between East Asia and Europe.  In East Asia “National identity” was both rapidly and politically built because we tried to catch up with the Western civilization by forming a powerful and full-fledged nation-state that could be recognized as a sovereign state on an equal basis, while European nation-state building process forwarded in its own natural dynamics for over 3 to 4 hundred years. 

However, the artificially-made quick process of Japanese nation building was intertwined not only with wars between the powers which were related with such peripheral regions as Ryukyu, Taiwan and Korea, but with Japanese colonial rules over Asian peoples who lived there. Nation-building was intertwined with Empire building, which triggered another Asian’s nationalism of anti-colonial rule in 20th century.  For example, comfort women issues are regarded as sex-slave issues for Korean women but Japanese comfort women also did exist, who derived from 19 century Japanese prostitutes in Western settlements in East Asia. 

National memory has been incorporated into each nation’s identity which is intertwined with contemporary domestic political system. For example, when looking back on the aftermath of World War II, the German people in Europe have focused on the value of the concept of “democracy” and human rights. This was because Germany as a nation, once allowed the Nazis to take power and build up a one-party dictatorship through a constitutional process with legal suppression of human rights.  On the other hand, Japanese public mourning after the second World War has been inclined to focus upon the value of “peace”, because under the pretext of emergency and war, democracy was suppressed, which made Japanese to regard peace more important lesson than democracy. This could be also explained from the fact that most of Japanese people shared an experience of air raids and atomic bombs.  Even though Japanese soldiers had committed atrocities in the war, which entailed violation of human rights in occupied areas, such events seems to have very weak influence upon national identity to protect human rights.

< Difficulties and Limitations to Possibilities >

It is very difficult to obtain a clear notion from the position of a victim. And of course the position of the emperor and the Japanese elite were untouchable. For example, in 2015, seventy years after the war, the Cabinet of Prime Minister Abe published the Prime Minister’s official message to the world, pointing to two “decisive mistakes of national policy of pre-war Japan” as the causes of the war. One of these two “decisive mistakes of national policy” is said to be Japan’s stance against the global tide of a new principle of self-determination, and the other was her stance against the principle of a peaceful resolution of any international conflict.   

 In this context, there has been no mention of how the Self -Determination Principles should have been handled in relation to these policies at the time of the war. Contextually, issues of how to deal with the annexation of Korea since 1910 with Japan, practical definitions of the Russo-Japanese War, or how to manage the definition of the “South Manchuria Railway” after the formal term expired in post-1923, have not sufficiently been addressed in 2015. This void raises the question that just describing two points of remorse, against these two principles of “self-determination” and of “peaceful resolution”, does not persuade Korean or Chinese people having been victims to reach some consensus.

In his speech Abe did not raise the question how the principle of self-determination as adopted at the peace conference in Versaille in 1919 should have been applied to the Korean annexation by Japan in 1910, nor did he touch on the issue of the South-Manchuria Railway, the management of which Japan had acquired as a consequence of the Russo-Japanese War. Abe expressed a sense of national regret over going against these two global principles, but this sentiment does not have Korea and China in its purview. 

    It is relatively easy to envisage the wars experienced by “my people,” especially from the perspective of my people being on the victims’ side. In fact, Japanese memory about the wars tends to focus on the value of peace. But it does not necessarily lead to reconciliation between peoples. Our desire for reconciliation could be regarded as a challenge to such a defensive character of national memory, by situating each form of nationalism in the historic context of East Asia, where the concept of a nation itself was artificially introduced by a state in the process of ‘civilization’  

   Asian national identity had been artificially reinvented by a newly installed modern state in the short time span of a few generations. Paradoxically, that would be a key to detach ourselves first from each of our own national memory as victims and face each other to remember the common past, which could be shared with universal values, though each national memories would not disappear but reconcile together. 

 In this short presentation, I would like to express my own memories toward my grandparents, as an example of explaining the way nation is imagined in my mind and how people in Asia was quickly enbraced to a nation in the process of modernization and wars.  Because I was born in a rural area, left behind the higher development of economy of post-war Japan, I was fortunately surrounded by a rich environment full of historical memories.

Modern Japan fought two major wars in the 20th century, the Russo-Japanese War in 1904 and the Asia-Pacific war in 1937 which amalgamated into the Second World War. These two wars were related to each other as the first, bearing the cause of the last one, which was in fact evoked with Japanese prerogative in Manchuria taken in the first Russo-Japanese war. And this process occurred during the same time when nation building of Japan was proceeding, which would be shown in my family history who were involved in these two wars. 

My grandfather was born in January 1897. When he was 8 years old in 1905 at the end of the summer vacation of elementary school, he welcomed Japanese soldiers on the railway, because the summer vacation ended just when the Russo-Japanese War and in anticipation of the cessation of the war, Japan invaded Sakhalin, making its occupation as a fait accompli to her own advantage at the peace conference. Sakhalin had been owned by Japan until the middle of the 19th century, but was exchanged with Kuril Islands in 1875. The Karafuto Occupation operation was carried out from July 1905 onwards, when cease-fire was expected not only in Siberia but also in the Japan Sea. After peace came into effect in September in the same year, the southern half of Sakhalin ceded formally to Japan in the Portsmouth peace treaty.

85 years later when my grandfather was already very old, he was interviewed by me and shared with me his old memory of childhood days. When he was escorted by a teacher to stand along the local train, he welcomed the returning soldiers from Karafuto along the Tohoku Main railway Line. This interview was done when I was a graduate student in the department of International Relations Studies in Tokyo University around 1990, when I was beginning to research how Japan’s modern nation building overlapped the road to the colonial empire. My grandfather, already around 95 years old, then touched my heart by connecting me personally to Japanese and international history. 

My grandfather’s stories overlapped with my own childhood memory worded in the same regional space though our ages were vastly different. According to my grandfather, the soldiers were happily returning home on a steam locomotive train with the Tohoku Main Line, which was a single-track railway. This was different in my memory but it was imaginable for me because I spent my childhood in the same scenery even though there was a double track railway. While I myself was escorted by teachers on excursions to the same space in 1970’s, my grandfather had been escorted in the biginning of 20th century by a teacher to go to the same train track to wave Japanese flags of the Rising Sun. In the interview with my grandfather I could imagine his childhood days as if it had happened to me at the same time. The soldiers returning from Karafuto on the train reacted to the children on the ground by throwing red and white rice cakes to the children. 

The story of my grandfather about the Russo-Japan war was intertwined with another story of digging a blasting pit under the surrounding mountains of Port Arthur. This finally succeeded in making a fortification with a canon on the mountain to fire at the gunships in the bay from the land, which was widely known as the operation of General Nogi who succeeded in penetrating into Port Arthur by holding the 203 meters high hill. Clearly, the Port Arthur story must have been made up by my grandfather, who had never seen China. On the other hand, the story of rice cakes from the soldiers returning from Karahuto could be a true story for my grandfather. But the two stories seemed to be merged into one because of education, or public information from newspapers or because of informal conversations within my village over time. 

It appears to me as if I heard my grandfather speaking only yesterday, which inspired me to see my private space and time where I had been born and raised from different point of views related to our modern national history. When I myself was a child, the Tohoku railway main line had already been electrified and double-tracked, and the times when my father (the second son of my grandfather) took nine hours to get to work in Tokyo are now a thing of the past. However, for me, the gravel road along the track, often walked by my grandmother, is a nostalgic path, full of memories, where we picked the wild grass (the name is Yomogi), which could be mixed with rice cakes “kusamochi”.  

Thinking of such a connection, I found myself viewing my own early childhood as an extension of the modern history of Japan busy trying to catch up with the Western civilization.  Hearing my grandfather’s story, I could relate to the Japanese national narrative. Luckily I was surrounded by rich historical memories and the stories of my grandmother brought me another aspect of the national narrative.

Next, I would like to introduce my grandmother who was born in 1905, as one of the first generation of rural girls who could read and write.  I remember a small trip with my grandmother when I was taken to the nearby city Fukushima when I was still an elementary school boy. Trying to go back to the platform of the station after all shopping finished, I found my grandmother stopping in front of the entrance of the platform, seeing a board of train schedule. She said she was so thankful that she could read the characters written on the signboard showing train schedules. She was viewing them from top to bottom. I myself had learned how to write letters from this grandmother before I entered a kindergarten. 

 My grandmother affectionately reminisced her lost son “Yukio,” who passed away in 1944 during WW2.  My uncle, Yukio, born in 1922, was recruited in 1943 and mobilized for  the Leyte Battle in the Philippines.  However, in mid-April 1944, on his way to the Philippines, his transport ship “Teiamaru” was sunken by an American submarine and disappeared in the Bassi Strait between Taiwan and the Philippines.  My grandmother’s memory seemed to be lingering over the last night when she saw him.  Just before the departure of the ship to the south, Yukio was allowed to return home and appeared suddenly at home at 3:00 AM after a long walk perhaps from the big city of Fukushima. During my grandmother’s preparation to cook special rice for him because he must go back to the station before noon, he cut his nails and hair as substitutes for his body in case of his death in the battles, saying he could not be back again.

These stories were documented as a graduate student, so they can still be presented here as my memory.  However, when I was asked to come to speak in the Netherlands, these stories had almost vanished from my consciousness. In retrospect, it is a valuable record for considering how my grandparent’s narratives were internalized in my own childhood when my identity was in the formation process. 

It would be possible to say that “the memory” undergoes a reformation process in order for human beings to maintain the balance of the mind and to continue living as survivors. The central memory of my grandmother lays in the last day of the separation from her son. This might also show how a victim’s perspective of the national history is stronger than the perpetrator’s perspective.

On the other hand, the story of the Russo-Japanese War I heard from my grandfather seems to be linked to the introduction of a modern civilizational device, that is railway. My grandfather’s earliest memories seem to be connected to technology and civilization as perceived by Japanese rural children. It is significant that my grandfather always valued the fields beside the railway, and often walked along the railway, which, as a location, may have also overlapped with his own grandfather, in short my great-great grandfather’s memories, who contributed to the railway construction by supporting to gather land for the railway company as a councelor of the village’s township. 

Nation seems to be inclined to connect local memories with international context, forming them into a national story.  It has made me think again that the modern age is truly made up of individuals who are always even unconsciously searching for meanings of life by nurturing emotional  memory as a subject for inspiring each life.

As an extension of these experiences, I came to consider how to understand the function of memory to inspire people, and how to reconcile them meaningfully for the future. Since I myself have become a researcher, I have begun to think about the national memories recorded by each nation and the possibility of reconciliation among people. When I first entered the university, I faced foreign students who were raised hearing family’s memories of colonial days. 

These stories were documented as a graduate student, so they can still be presented here as my memory.  However, when I was asked to come to speak in the Netherlands, these stories had almost vanished from my consciousness. In retrospect, it is a valuable record for considering how my grandparent’s narratives were internalized in my own childhood when my identity was in the formation process. 

It would be possible to say that “the memory” undergoes a reformation process in order for human beings to maintain the balance of the mind and to continue living as survivors. The central memory of my grandmother lays in the last day of the separation from her son. This might also show how a victim’s perspective of the national history is stronger than the perpetrator’s perspective.

On the other hand, the story of the Russo-Japanese War I heard from my grandfather seems to be linked to the introduction of a modern civilizational device, that is railway. My grandfather’s earliest memories seem to be connected to technology and civilization as perceived by Japanese rural children. It is significant that my grandfather always valued the fields beside the railway, and often walked along the railway, which, as a location, may have also overlapped with his own grandfather, in short my great-great grandfather’s memories, who contributed to the railway construction by supporting to gather land for the railway company as a councelor of the village’s township. 

Nation seems to be inclined to connect local memories with international context, forming them into a national story.  It has made me think again that the modern age is truly made up of individuals who are always even unconsciously searching for meanings of life by nurturing emotional  memory as a subject for inspiring each life.

As an extension of these experiences, I came to consider how to understand the function of memory to inspire people, and how to reconcile them meaningfully for the future. Since I myself have become a researcher, I have begun to think about the national memories recorded by each nation and the possibility of reconciliation among people. When I first entered the university, I faced foreign students who were raised hearing family’s memories of colonial days.  

< Encoutnrering Different Memories of Taiwanese and Korean >

Through personal encounters with foreign students from Taiwan and Korea, I was deeply moved by the level of contrast in the nature of colonial memories by these two peoples. For Korean students in general, colonial memories are memories of “the times when it was better not to have existed”. On the other hand, for students from Taiwan, it is a memory of “the very era when the Taiwanese were born as a nation”. It may be possible to say that Chinese students who regard Japan as a rival or as the winner in modernization could be in the middle between Koreans and Taiwanese. Because the colonizer and the colonized all belong to Asia and Japan tried to assimilate them during colonial days, the reconciliation seems the more difficult.  

 In any case, the emotions of the peoples around Japan cannot be expressed without the existence of Japan itself. That would be similar to Japanese emotions that could not be expressed without the existence of the center of “civilization,” as “Western Europe” and “the Great Powers.”  The atrocities involving Dutch civilians during the World War II could be an outburst of the Japanese with complex psychologies toward the West and the Powers. 

Emotions seem to be difficult to control. Collective emotions are much more difficult than private one.  

1. The first step is to make emotional local memory stabilized, by connecting it with a global history.  Such a global history/narrative would contribute to a constructive dialogue between peoples about emotional subjects. 

(2) But the second step is also indispensable, particularly in this global age, which is how to differentiate our own emotions toward others through the prism of three concepts of emotions, such as “empathy” (sympathy), compassion (mercy), and fraternity (French: fraternité, in the UK: fraternity) , as illustrated in the theory of Prof. Ute Frevert. (Emotions in History: Lost and Found) 

Being mindful and aware of these two above methods of dialogue, and the realization that these two methods are the minimum required for the process of reconciliation to begin. “Empathy” could be an emotion used in an equal relation.  Compassion is an emotion arising out of a sense of superiority, while “fraternity” is directed to members of the same group or nation as a subject of identity.  

One difficulty of the realization of reconciliation is that people are not freed from the tendency of these complex feelings directed to a group like a nation or a race rather than an individual as citizen. This inclination is explained in detail in a famous scholar, Benedict Anderson’s “Imagined Community” that a nation can be collectively “imagined” agains other nations. 

Particularly in wars, human emotions toward other groups are systematically mobilized for conveying wars. The third emotion of “fraternity” toward the same national people would be heightened during wars by a sense of national destiny and superiority that includes the act of discrimination against other people. It can be said that “empathy” and even “compassion” toward other nations would be controlled psychologically by national consciousness itself. Either strong insultation or pity which derives from this period would be internalized even to children and would be transfered to the next generation.

In conclusion to this specific paper, personally, I strongly hope through the new level of historical studies being developed by international co-operation that more young people can find their own national emotions which exist inside ourselves as an object of inter-connected global history and discuss the process of the formation of their upper generation’s emotions, finally results to connect each national emotion in a broader picture of a global history as I have tried in this speach even tentatively.