We’re the Victims
by Michael
I rather like Japan. Some of my best friends are Japanese. My wife is Japanese (probably should have written that one first). I’ve lived and worked in Japan for two and half years and deeply admire many aspects of the society.
Today I saw the film 夕凪の町、桜の国 (Yūnagi City, Sakura Country). The film follows the life of a family and the way in which the atomic bombing of Hiroshima affects their lives, from the 1950s until the present. I enjoyed the movie a great deal.
Still, it was hard to watch the film without thinking that it was yet another movie exploring the effects of the atomic bombings of 1945 (albeit one that pays attention to the discrimination against those who survived the attack). It’s easy, particularly for an outsider, to feel as if the Japanese are obsessed with the events of August 6 and August 9. Without a doubt the bombings were horrific. I consider the attack on Nagasaki, especially, to constitute an indefensible war crime.
And yet it was hardly the only war crime. The atrocities committed by the Japanese Imperial Army are well-documented, even if not to the same extent of their fellow Axis powers in Europe. Unfortunately, this is not a topic that gets the same attention in Japanese cinema as the devastation of defeat. If Japanese movies were you only guide, it’d be easy to think World War II was some sort of event where Japan didn’t do much until out of nowhere an American plane dropped an A-bomb.
It’s also easy to start getting defensive as a foreigner. Why don’t the Japanese own up to their responsibility? Why isn’t there the same amount of time spent discussing Nanjing as there is discussing Nagasaki? Or the Burmese Railway? The truth is that even in spite of my connection to Japan I find it hard not to get annoyed.
Sometimes when you’re annoyed, you tend to get wrapped up in your own victimhood. Occasionally you stop and think: Westerners sure spend a lot of time talking about September 11. Why don’t we own up to our responsibility? Why isn’t there the same amount of time spent discussing Nablus as New York? Or our support for corrupt regimes that suit our interests?
I guess because that’s hard.
Comments
We all saw the bittereness of the 2nd generation in that movie. But even the son was different from his sister, and mother. His naive optimism, forgiveness and generous nature was his way of living a happy life to honour the sacrifices of past generations. And in not so many words, this is what he tells his daughter.
I haven’t been to Nagasaki (Steph is of course there right now), but I hear they harbour more hostility towards the Americans than Hiroshima. I sense that Hiroshima is directing its energies into more construction anti-war campaigns, however ineffective. I (And no doubt Steph as well, being SIngaporean) have relatives of my grandfather’s generation who never came back after the Japanese came for them… but look at us now. We grew up in a socierty where military defeat is not a moral judgement, and there is no shame in associating with an atomic bomb surivor’s children. Sometimes the concept of shame as a means to social conformity is so alien.
I saw Goemon tongiht, and for of its epic, heroic, anti-war posturing, it was far outshone by the personal touch of Yuunagi City, Sakura Country and its affecting, sincere and touching meditation on how to live a proper life.
I thought Nagasaki was heartbreaking. I don’t agree with the American argument in favour of dropping an atomic bomb on Hiroshima (why couldn’t you just drop it in the ocean?) but I understand that there is an argument.
Yeah, sometimes I wonder what my grandfather would think. He fought the Japanese in New Guinea and my understanding from Dad is that it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Now I’m married to a Japanese and learn their language. I hope he doesn’t mind.
I’m sorry to hear that Goemon was a bit of a disappointment. I really enjoyed Yūnagi and I wrote this, not because I wished it was something else, but just as a way to work through my own issues.
I suppose we can’t expect dramatic movies to be didactic instructional tracts. The truths we find in them are of course our own.
I found it hilarious when the doctor son in Yuunagi was called “Goemon-sensei” (even by the kid brought in as a patient) for his cheeky nature. That’s probably one of the occupational hazards of being named “Ishikawa” in Japan (^_^) These myths do provide a culture with a rich vein of stories to mine… not always the right messages are necessarily taken away, but then again sometimes people will only hear what they want to hear anyay.