Japan uncertain why it should succumb in 1945

In 1945, it took six days for Japanese leaders to agree to surrender. Fifty years later, Japan is still far from attaining a broad, globally acceptable, consensus on the events which made that surrender necessary, or on the need to simply and sincerely say "sorry". The Jakarta Post's Asia Correspondent Harvey Stockwin reports on Murayama's latest efforts to fill the breach.

HONG KONG (JP): On Aug. 15, 1995, Japanese Prime Minister Tomiichi Murayama could not carry his own government with him, but he made a "heartfelt apology" for Japanese actions in World War II in an effort to head off numerous demands for greater Japanese contrition from Asia and Pacific nations.

It was the 50th anniversary of that traumatic moment for Japan when, at noon, the then Emperor Hirohito -- speaking to his people for the very first time -- noted that "the war situation has developed not necessarily to Japan's advantage", and ordered the surrender of Japanese Imperial armed forces after 14 years of war in Asia and the Pacific. It was the first defeat in Japanese history.

The process of finally securing agreement on the need for surrender had begun hours after the dropping of the second atomic bomb on Nagasaki, had taken nearly six days, and had required Hirohito's repeated political intervention, itself an unprecedented action. The Emperor's speech was watered down to secure the Army's acceptance of the surrender order. Even so, the Emperor's broadcast words were only heard after an attempted coup, by the Guards Division that was supposed to protect him, had failed.

In that speech Emperor Hirohito specifically denied that Japan, in starting the war, had any intention "to infringe upon the sovereignty of other nations or to embark upon territorial aggrandizement". Japanese leaders ever since have had a hard time admitting past Japanese colonialism and aggression, let alone apologizing for it.

As the 50th anniversary approached, Prime Minister Murayama had a particularly hard time. As the first Socialist Prime Minister for 47 years, Murayama had pledged, and worked for, a forthright resolution and apology from the Japanese Diet (Parliament). But the resolution eventually passed was so watered down, mainly by Murayama's ostensible partners in the ruling coalition, the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), that it was diplomatically ineffective.

Murayama had hoped for a special commemoration ceremony on Aug. 15 but that proposal was also rejected by the LDP. (There has been some talk of switching the special ceremony to the APEC summit in Osaka in November but that, too, appears to have fallen by the wayside).

Murayama's cabinet reshuffle only last week was marred when his new Education Minister suggested immediately on taking office that, since the war was being forgotten, there was no need for more apologies, and Japan had not committed aggression anyway. Weakened politically, Murayama was unable to fire the minister, and had to apologize to China and Korea on his behalf.

Next came the bizarre episode when Murayama wrote a letter late last week to British Prime Minister John Major. The British announced that Murayama, in the letter, had apologized for Japan's (often brutal) treatment of British prisoners-of-war during the war.

But Murayama then said that he had not apologized, and that the letter congratulated Major on his re-election to the conservative party leadership over a month ago. The affair ended when British officials discreetly pointed out that the word "apology" was contained in the letter.

The best explanation so far for this muddled performance is that -- not for the first time -- a Japanese leader had imagined that he could say one thing to a Japanese audience and something else to the foreigners. Japanese politicians are taking their time adapting to the reality of the global village.

The final straw in this series of diplomatic missteps was that the Aug. 15 apology was agreed to by Murayama's cabinet -- provided he gave it only as his personal view.

"During a certain period in the not too distant past," Murayama said at a specially called press conference at 11 p.m., "Japan, following a mistaken national policy, advanced along the road to war only to ensnare the Japanese people in a fateful crisis, and, through its colonial rule and aggression, caused tremendous damage and suffering to the people of many countries, particularly to those of Asian nations".

"In the hope that no such mistake be made in future," Murayama continued, "I regard, in a spirit of humility, these irrefutable facts of history, and express here once again my feelings of deep remorse and state my heartfelt apology. Allow me also to express my feelings of profound mourning for all victims, both at home and abroad, of that history".

Murayama thanked all nations, "beginning with the United States of America" for their help in getting back on its feet after defeat, and said that "Japan must eliminate self-righteous nationalism" if it is to advance the cause of peace and democracy.

Since it is already obvious from the mixed reactions to this statement that Murayama's words will be a source of continuing controversy, there are several points that need to be noticed.

A Japanese ambassador has already spoken to the global village, outside Japan, insisting that Murayama did speak on behalf of Japan and the Japanese government. But Murayama never used those words in the crucial passage. He spoke carefully only in terms of "I regard" and "my feelings".

Conceivably, Murayama was, partially at least, still refusing to recognize the global village because when he spoke an hour later, only to the Japanese section of it, he did not repeat the words "apology" or "aggression".

At noon, the traditional annual commemoration of that moment when Emperor Hirohito ordered surrender in 1945, was held as usual at Tokyo's Nippon Budokan, complete with one minute's silence in memory of the war dead.

In front of the Emperor and Empress, all cabinet members, and the nationwide Japanese audience -- NHK carried the ceremony on its national TV network -- the "heartfelt apology" was missing. Presumably the cabinet did not agree to having it reiterated.

"The last war caused tremendous pain and sorrow to people in many countries, particularly to those in Asian nations," Murayama said, "I sincerely regard this fact and would like to offer heartfelt condolences to them with deep remorse".

At least, as he did last year, Murayama referred to all victims, not just the Japanese. He called for the renunciation of war --"It is our serious duty to create a world order of peace that meets a new era under a resolve to renounce war. I believe that it will be our compensation for the past and mourning for the war dead to do this."

Emperor Akihito, the constitutional symbol of the Japanese state, read a brief statement. "Looking back at history here, I pray from the heart that the ravages of war will never be repeated, and together with all of the people in Japan, I offer heartfelt condolences to those who died on battlefields and fell victim to the war, and pray for world peace and our country's further development".

But at that noon ceremony, which was attended by 8,000 Japanese, the most interesting comments came from the Speaker of the House of Representatives, the forthright former Socialist leader Takako Doi.

"We have yet to atone for the history of colonial rule, aggression, violation of human rights, discrimination and insult in Asia," Doi said, "therefore we have yet to achieve a real reconciliation with Asian people."

Doi even took a side-swipe at the issue which is far more important than reluctant Japanese apologies -- the way in which Japanese history is written and taught or rather, not written and not taught.

"We want to be a people who are honest in passing on the story of the misery and inhumanity of the war from one generation to another forever," Doi said.

Doi speaks her mind, whereas Murayama, at this crucial moment of the 50th anniversary, cannot help sounding as if his words have been produced by a committee of bureaucrats.

That said, Murayama's comments were more forthright than nearly all his predecessors, with the exception of 1993-94 reformist Prime Minister Morihiro Hosokawa, who, like Doi, also spoke with personal conviction about the past error of Japan's record.

In fact, prior to Aug. 15, several Japanese committees were at work as all political parties produced differing statements of remembrance of the war, heavily underlining the fact that there is no Japanese consensus yet in sight on how to look at the past.

The LDP statement called upon the Japanese people to give heartfelt thanks to the spirits of Japan's war heroes, who laid the foundation for Japan's current peace and prosperity. Eight LDP cabinet ministers went to honor those spirits directly at the Yasukuni Shrine in Tokyo -- a gesture that usually infuriates China and Korea, because the souls of those condemned as "war criminals" are also enshrined there.

All told, an initial judgment must be that while Murayama did his best, Japan has a long way to go before it eliminates its self-righteous nationalist feelings about the events of 50 years ago.