EMPEROR HIROHITO AND THE PACIFIC WAR | By Noriko Kawamura
Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2015. vii, 238 pp. (Map, illustrations.) US$34.94, cloth. ISBN 978-0-295-99517-5.
This book, Emperor Hirohito and the Pacific War, is a well-balanced analysis of the controversial role Emperor Hirohito played during the Pacific War, drawing on previously unavailable primary sources. Noriko Kawamura sets herself a twofold task: first, to situate controversies surrounding Emperor Hirohito into appropriate historical contexts; second, to shed a new light on the work by past researchers on Emperor Hirohito’s wartime deeds and responsibilities. Kawamura, in fact, is right in arguing that “even if the power of the throne was symbolic, not actual, the emperor could have taken symbolic responsibility for the war, although there would still be a need to clarify what would constitute symbolic war responsibility” (7). In the first three of the six chapters, Kawamura accomplishes the first task by a careful description of the chronology of imperialist Japan. In the remaining three chapters, Kawamura explores the possibilities for striking a balance between orthodox and leftist historians’ interpretations. For example, Kawamura mentions that there is a tendency on the part of Western scholars to support a Tokyo Trial view of the emperor’s role in war decisions, and that they have generally been more sympathetic to the dilemmas faced by the emperor than Japanese leftist historians. Wherever necessary, Kawamura provides theoretical and practical explanations for their judgments, which makes this book accessible even to elementary readers in the field of wartime history. For example, Kawamura states that these Western scholars all reflected Maruyama Masao’s argument of the pluralistic consensus-oriented system.
The introduction sets forth the objective of this book: “to reexamine and reevaluate Emperor Hirohito’s role in the Pacific War and to offer a realistic reappraisal of two highly politicized and exaggerated interpretations of history” (7, emphasis added): one depicting the emperor as a pacifist constitutional monarch and the other as an absolute monarch and commander in chief.
Chapter 1 provides the background of the period from 1910 to 1933, as to how two divergent visions of Japan’s role in the world emerged: “one held by those who believed in international accommodation; the other held by those who wanted to build a self-sustaining Japanese empire in Asia” (19). Chapter 2 describes how the emperor’s perception of his country’s troubled internal conditions deeply affected his attitude concerning Japan’s policy toward China and the Western world. Chapter 3 analyzes Japan’s critical decision-making process in the early years of the Pacific War. The author sets out Emperor Hirohito’s dilemma, which is an ironic contradiction for leftist historians: “the emperor who wanted to act like a constitutional monarch had to exercise his authority like an absolute monarch if he was to avoid war with the United States” (95).
Chapter 4 explains the continued and increasing gap between the emperor’s personal concerns about Japan’s situation and the military leadership’s view of the war (115). Chapter 5 centres around Robert Butow’s claim that “[t]he atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the Soviet Union’s declaration of war did not produce Japan’s decision to surrender, for that decision—in embryo—had long been taking shape. What these events did do was to create that unusual atmosphere in which the theretofore static factor of the Emperor could be made active in such an extraordinary way as to work what was virtually a political miracle” (135–136). Chapter 6 sets the right question as a framework to examine Emperor Hirohito’s role toward the end of war: “if the emperor could not stop Japan from going to war in the first place, how and why was he able to play a critical role in ending the war through his seidan (sacred imperial decision)?” (151), instead of the wrong question (“if the emperor possessed the power to stop the war in August 1945, why did he permit the war to start in the first place?”) which is obvious to the reader who understands the emperor’s seemingly contradictory two positions mentioned above.
Throughout this book, Kawamura tries to be fair and careful to both sides, that is, to orthodox and to leftist historians, in citing and evaluating their use of evidence, positions, and arguments. For example, in the third chapter, Kawamura criticizes Herbert Bix’s argument that Hirohito could have changed the outcome of the imperial conference on September 6, 1941, faulting his reliance on selective evidence. Also, Kawamura is not afraid to challenge an existing historical view: “There is no doubt that the emperor’s ‘Monologue’ was prepared in anticipation of the Tokyo war crimes trial, but this does not automatically diminish the reliability of the emperor’s testimony, as some of his critics have suggested” (15).
Reading through the final chapters, one is bound to ask: how successful is Kawamura’s work in accomplishing the twofold task mentioned above? I believe that Kawamura does a fine job of describing Emperor Hirohito’s complex positions and his historical situation (and, I might add, conveying the emperor’s personality). I would be remiss, however, if I closed without a final comment on the timing of this publication. Not only are we in a post-truth society of the twenty-first century, but we are also entering into the post-witness society of World War II. Over seventy years have passed since the war’s end; soon, we will no longer be able to depend on the people who lived wartime Japan in person for evidence. Besides, their memories could be coloured, selected, and even distorted by their emotions, ideological positions, and experiences. Hence in the years to come, we need to analyze such rhetorical notions as “myths” (136), “collective memories” (136), “his words” (154) and “hard reality” (183), in addition to official documentation. Kawamura is correct to close the discussion in the epilogue with this statement: “Regardless of his intentions, [Emperor Hirohito] has become a controversial historical figure whose silence and inaction will continue to have divergent and far-reaching impacts, both negative and positive, for generations to come” (192). The controversy continues. Reconciliation between historical and rhetorical studies of wartime Japan is posed as a challenging agenda for contemporary scholars.
Takeshi Suzuki
Meiji University, Tokyo, Japan and University of Cambridge, Cambridge, United Kingdom
Meiji University, Tokyo, Japan and University of Cambridge, Cambridge, United Kingdom
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