An Inoffensive Rearmament (33 page)

So nothing seemed changed in Japan on its day of liberation. I reached for my
Nippon Times
and was immediately reassured. Japan had indeed been drastically changed and more dynamic changes were on the way. Its lead editorial was reflective:

It is well that the people should recall those dreary, hopeless and fearful days immediately following the Japanese surrender. The future at that time offered no pleasant prospects. It was not even a thing to be talked about, except in hurried whispered snatches; the world had seemingly come to end. The people lacked even those basic requirements of food, clothing and shelter. . . . Only later history can give a true and final evaluation of the Japanese occupation. But it would be safe at this time to point out that while mistakes were inevitable, the results on the whole were beneficial not only for Japanese people but also for the world at large. Certainly, no greater tribute can be paid the occupation and its policies than the fact that an entire nation and people were awakened to the political and ideological concept of democracy. It is true, to be sure, that democracy has still a long course to run in Japan, but a start has been made which only a major revolution could halt. The ideas of human rights, popular government, women's suffrage, land reform, local autonomy, decentralized educational system, and free labor movement among others are here to stay.

Sovereign Japan began its new era with 81,540,000 people, 20 percent more than the prewar population of the islands. These people were living on an area slightly more than half the territory controlled by Japan before its defeat.

One indicator of the future of Japan was the combination of statistics relating to the birth and death rates and the life span of the people. The death rate dropped from 15.7 per 1,000 to 10 and the birthrate surprisingly dropped from 31.3 to 25.6. The life expectancy for men had risen from a 1936 level of 46.9 years to 60.8 years and for women from 49.6 to 64.8.

Japanese were eating more protein than before the war, and the average daily intake of 2,125 calories was approximately that of 1941. Consumption of sugar was down, however, from 18 pounds annually to 9.81 pounds. Average clothing consumption also decreased from 7.59 to 6.97 pounds annually.

Industrial statistics were encouraging and were a harbinger of things to come. The number of factories had increased 10 percent. Electric power output was up 26 percent. Textile production had almost doubled, but coal and steel production were both down.

The number of compulsory schools had jumped to keep pace with the population increase. Radio sets had almost doubled to ten million and newspaper circulation soared from 11 million to 29 million. Crime was increasing. The number of female criminals had doubled and the number of juvenile delinquents was increasing alarmingly.

My attention was drawn to a sad commentary. A newspaper looking for comments on this day of liberation from people on the street approached a former lieutenant of the Japanese Imperial Army. The lieutenant had been wounded in the head and stomach in North China. Now, out of the hospital, he was reduced to begging on the Ginza. His response to the reporter's question was bitter: “I don't anticipate a sudden change in the attitude of these passersby toward me.”

It was a great day nevertheless for those who received pardons under the general amnesty declared by the prime minister. More than 2 million Japanese benefited from this order. Criminal charges against approximately half a million were dropped, 270,000 received reductions in their prison terms, and 470,000 regained their civil rights. The remainder were persons on parole, serving suspended sentences, freed on payment of fines, and evaders on taxes. In the last category were many big businessmen. Most of these were aware that the grand pardon would come in the spring with the signing of the peace treaty. The legal trick was to negotiate and wait out the government. This had been the traditional procedure for big business, and now it was paying off with millions of yen. I was not surprised that under the general amnesty, the government forgave the
zaibatsu
(cartel) firm of Mitsubishi Chemical Company for nonpayment of 290 million yen, Kokobō Industry Company 27 million yen, and Yokohama Rubber Company 30 million yen. When I recalled how the Japanese tax collector in Ōsaka confiscated pieces of furniture and even
hibachi
(grills or stoves) from the small businessmen who failed to pay their taxes in 1949, I shuddered at the gross injustice.

The abolition of the occupation government helped those on the left as well as those on the right.
Akahata
, the Japan Communist Party publication “Red Flag,” appeared on the streets of Tōkyō for the first time since its suppression by General MacArthur on July 18, 1950. The justice minister acknowledged his office anticipated the publication of
Akahata,
but in sovereign Japan, there was no prohibition against the Communist Party or its official publication.

The right-wing Socialists joined the two conservative parties in welcoming independence and sovereignty for the nation. Declaring their rededication to democracy, they announced their determination to increase their efforts to re-establish international confidence in Japan. Kaneshichi Masuda, secretary general of the Liberal Party, said his party proposed to rebuild Japan as an independent, self-sufficient nation determined to defend itself. Takeo Miki, secretary general of the Progressive Party, rejoiced at liberation from a foreign occupation. Mr. Miki declared that Japan had to re-establish international confidence and internal harmony by adhering to democratic principles and social justice within the nation. The right-wing Socialists were jubilant over the return of sovereignty but announced dissatisfaction with the treaty terms regarding security, territorial possessions, and reparations.

Left-wing Socialists found no occasion for rejoicing. They anticipated no change in the condition of Japan under the terms of the peace treaty from what had been the situation under the occupation. They contended that the failure of the government to conclude peace treaties with the Soviet Union, Red China, and other Asian countries left Japan in an unstable international position. The peace treaty with the United States, they said, was bought for the price of the security pact, which made Japan an advance military base for American strategy in the Far East.

Yet the return of sovereignty to Japan, at a time when the United States was involved in a worldwide Cold War struggle with the communists and engaged in a bloody war in Korea, represented a deliberate gamble for our foreign policy. Those who were willing to gamble rested their stakes on the contention that freedom and independence would make a better and more dependable ally of Japan than would continued occupation. As might be anticipated, the Pentagon and the State Department argued opposing points of view. The State Department, supported by General MacArthur, who had repeatedly declared that no occupation could profitably last more than five years, wanted an early peace treaty. The
military, on the other hand, cautioned that an independent Japan could not be explicitly counted upon to support the Korean War. The Pentagon feared that after Japan regained its sovereignty, the United States could no longer tell it what to do. The gamble was minimized when Japan agreed to have the security pact with the United States come into force simultaneously with the peace treaty. As has been pointed out, the Left deplored the price Japan had to pay for the peace treaty, but in its state of economic and military impotence, Japan had no alternative. Its survival as a nation depended on trade with the United States and the protective military umbrella America was willing to extend.

Prime Minister Yoshida thanked the Allied powers for “a magnanimous peace unparalleled in history” and set the mood for his administration:

Unfortunately our horizon is darkened by the menace of communism which seeks to conquer the world through insidious propaganda and infiltration by force—by open armed aggression. That is why for the protection of unarmed Japan as well as for the common defense of the Pacific we have concluded a security pact with the United States, under which American land, sea and air forces, at our request, will be stationed within and about our territory. Obviously such an arrangement cannot be continued indefinitely. That is why we must undertake to build up a self-defense power of our own, gradually, according as circumstances and resources permit.

Conscious of international concern and not wishing to alarm other countries, the prime minister cautiously elaborated, “We will not rearm in such a way as to arouse suspicion and apprehension on the part of foreign countries.” Those who may now be critical of Yoshida's reluctance to build a larger military force should not overlook the world situation that faced the sagacious prime minister in the early 1950s.

Eighteen nations of the noncommunist world recognized Japan as a sovereign state. Great Britain, Australia, New Zealand, the Philippines, Singapore, and India, among others, greeted Japan's re-emergence into the world as an independent nation with varying degrees of acceptance. There was deep concern about future trade relations and unabashed fear of Japanese competition.

The communist world reacted predictably. Mr. Alexander Panyushkin, the Soviet ambassador in Washington, denounced the San Francisco peace treaty as “illegal.” He demanded that American troops be withdrawn from Japan and notified the world that the Soviet Union “cannot bear any responsibility whatsoever for the situation created in Japan.” Red China echoed the Soviet Union's renunciation of the peace treaty, declaring that China “cannot recognize it any way.” Though most Americans were unconcerned about the communist response, the Japanese people, conscious of their Asian environment, were deeply apprehensive about both their security and economic welfare. To the merchants, manufacturers, and financial circles of trade-hungry Japan, “ideology was politics, but trade was business.” Ishiwara's philosophy of a coprosperity sphere embracing Japan, China, and Manchuria was so potentially appealing to the Japanese that no ideological obstacles could be permitted to stand in the way of the good life the theory promises.

There were some thoughtful men among the Japanese who compared the emergence of Japan as an independent nation with the Meiji Restoration. These men highlighted the similarity in the world situations that faced a small, isolated island country in 1868 with the plight of a weak, defenseless, debilitated Japan in 1952. It was useless, they said, to think about the fact that Japan had been a “first-class power.” The disastrous Pacific War had destroyed that power. Japan in the twentieth century faced the same problems that the pioneers of the Meiji era solved under severe limitations of national power. The difference between the Meiji Restoration and new Japan was that in the former period only the country's leaders and statesmen deliberated and planned the policies for the nation, and the people followed, while in democratic Japan the people had the power and the responsibility to determine the future course of the nation.

About noon on the first day of sovereignty, Director General Masuhara invited the senior American officers of the Advisory Group to join his staff at NPR Headquarters in a small gathering to commemorate the San Francisco peace treaty. The tables were set in the customary Japanese fashion in the form of a “U.” There were no chairs; guests were invited to eat and drink standing at the tables, which were decorated with ceremonial packages of seaweed tied in interesting little bows of “friendship.” Plates of sliced meats were scattered among brown bottles of excellent Japanese beer.

Mr. Masuhara presently raised a toast to the United States and its great military forces, thanking Americans for considerations extended during the occupation and the helpful assistance and guidance in organizing the NPR. We responded by wishing Japan prosperity and the NPR success in achieving its mission.

The little party became lively, and shortly American officers and NPR civilian officials and senior men in uniform were enjoying the comradeship of people who work together. I joined a small group including Mr. Masuhara; Mr. Eguchi, the deputy director general; and General Hayashi. I had been reading about the Japanese constitution and the circumstances of its formulation and acceptance by the Japanese government. I wondered how much of this idealistic document would remain now that Japan had acquired its independence. Mr. Masuhara assured me that the fundamental concepts of the constitution would remain. Some changes were necessary. Article 9, of course, would have to be eliminated. In addition, he thought, the article concerning the dissolution of the House of Representatives would have to be revised. When I pointed out that these amendments, together with changes proposed in Article 18 and 22, would require major surgery, he smiled in agreement. He acknowledged, with Mr. Eguchi's concurrence, that the women of Japan, so thoroughly indoctrinated against war, would oppose revision most strenuously. Mr. Eguchi volunteered that the political parties would have to launch a broad educational program, not only among women but among the entire electorate, to get the people to support rearmament.

As we discussed the constitution, I asked whether it was a fact that the “no-war, no-army” provision had actually been included in the constitution at the direction of General MacArthur. The “no” that boomed out of the director general disturbed some of the Americans with us. Mr. Masuhara went on to explain that Baron Shidehara had told the director general personally that although the Japanese people think that General MacArthur directed the provisions of Article 9 be included in the Japanese constitution, actually he, Baron Shidehara, suggested that the provision be placed in the constitution.

Having read several pieces in the press speculating on the future of Emperor Hirohito, I asked whether the emperor planned to abdicate. General Hayashi blanched, assuring me there was no truth in the rumor. “The emperor,” he said, “will lay to rest all these speculations when he speaks to the people on May 3.”