Originally posted by aloofman@Nov 12 2004, 12:22 PM
As for Hiroshima, that's a moral dilemma that will never go away. It was definitely a terrorist attack in the sense that the explicit goal was to inflict so many casualties on civilians that Japan would realize that it should just give up. (Previous firebombings of civilian areas killed even more people though.) The old "take a life to save a life" theory comes into play here, as far more Japanese most likely would have died if the United States had to invade the main Japanese islands. And of course, the American lives are an even bigger factor in that decision. Truman himself claimed that he could never look Americans in the eye if they found out he had such a weapon and did not use it, and that they would be right to impeach him for it...Japan was clearly a much more terrorizing state than the United States was and there's no doubt that if the roles had been reversed, Japan would not have hesitated to use nukes on us either.Â
[post=263468]Quoted post[/post]
A moral dilemma, indeed. One that troubles me as a resident of Japan for some four years now, with a Japanese spouse.
I love and respect my Japanese friends and neighbours very much. But there can be no doubt that their ancestors (and in some cases, they themselves) were party to atrocity.
Look at Japanese colonialism in China, the treatment of POWs, the grim exploitation of Korean workers, and Pearl Harbour itself. Leaving aside the question of whether these fit the definition of "terrorism", Japan inflicted brutal and unjust treatment on anyone in its way for much of the first half of last century. The regime justified many cases--including Pearl Harbour--as "pre-emptive strikes". In truth, they were gross criminal acts, and if citizens of the nation which perpetrated them knew of, and condoned, these crimes, it could be argued that they deserved the same fate as their victims in Nanjing or Changi.
Yet, at the same time, I have a good deal of trouble characterising my friends and neighbours as criminals, or even criminal stock.
To visit the museums of Hiroshima sobers any gung-ho war buff; they tell a story of people innocent of the larger affairs of state, robbed of their simple ambition to live a modest, dignified life. A colleague in his early sixties limps from a wartime childhood spent fighting polio.
A slightly older colleague weeps when recalling his first contact with the occupation forces. Well-meaning GIs decided to hold a Christmas party for the children near their base who had lost their fathers in the war. Most of these kids arrived confused and upset; why did the soldiers, viewed (understandably) as destroyers of their family, want them to come into their compound? Would they be killed, too? When the children tasted Coca-Cola for the first time in their lives, they thought they were being poisoned.
The biggest and oldest of the kids, my colleague was asked to play Santa. The costume horrified him; red and white have deep cultural and religious significance for Japanese--they're the national colours, colours of patriotic celebration. To make these colours into what looked like a clown's outfit made a mockery, he felt. Rather like forcing a Christian woman to wear a
hijab and expecting her to be happy about it because it's red, white and blue.
All a misunderstanding, to be sure. But that didn't make it any less miserable, frightening, or insulting for the kids.
Yet, this colleague harbours no resentment, however sad it makes him. Why?
Because the Japanese were, and still are, ashamed. Each individual took part in the war effort in some way. As citizens, they were directly responsible for supporting those who waged war; they took the blame and bore the suffering.
Until the end, they felt the war was justified. The emperor told them so, and he's descended from a god--the Pacific war was actually a religious crusade. When the emperor renounced his divine status (on MacArthur's instructions), they were no longer morally in the right. So they had to pay for their sins--for without divine blessing these acts instantly became sins rather than noble deeds. Everyone who put his faith in this false god was culpable. The death, hardship and privation they suffered--and the enormous hard work they endured to rebuild the country--was in the name of justice.
Visiting Hiroshima today, one feels great sadness and regret from the Japanese who tell their stories, but no anger with their fate at the hands of the Americans. Tellingly, the site is dedicated to
peace .
If the nations of the west are someday revealed to be morally culpable in any of our acts in the War Against Terrorism, will we individual citizens be so willing to hold ourselves responsible?
Food for thought.
hb8
P.S. The 60th anniversary of the Hiroshima bomb is coming up.