The historical memory
In his remarks at the March 2018 conference, Rana Mitter drew attention to the need to pursue ‘more fruitful analysis’ than simply comparing China as a one-party state to Japan as a parliamentary democracy, by ‘considering the nature of identity and countries’ links to history and their perceptions of themselves and each other’.18 The current and recent generations of East Asian leaders are obviously sensitive to such perceptions. Abe is the son of a foreign minister19 and the grandson of a prime minister, Nobusuke Kishi, whose political legacy, as a member of the Tōjō wartime cabinet and later as a Class A war criminal suspect, is highly controversial. South Korea’s president, Moon Jae-in, is the child of refugees from North Korea and was an activist against the regime of his predecessor’s father, Park Chung-hee, who served in the Manchukuo Imperial Army during the Pacific War. Park’s daughter, Park Guen-hye, was president from 2013 to 2017, the period of maximum pressure on Korean–Japanese relations. Xi Jinping’s father, Xi Zhongxun, served with the Communist guerrillas in the northwest of China, is said to have given Mao Zedong refuge at the end of the Long March in 1934, fought the Japanese as a member of the Yan’an Soviet until 1945, and was later purged during the Cultural Revolution before being rehabilitated and appointed to the Politburo under Deng Xiaoping.20 The history of East Asia in the 20th century is finely integrated into these politicians’ life experiences. It is unsurprising that the contested history of the relations between these three countries continues to be reflected in their actions and words.
It often seems counter-intuitive, for Western commentators, to think of the continuing arguments over history and the rifts between the Pacific War adversaries as issues of geopolitics rather than morality. In Western Europe, we like to think we have a different historical narrative – Germany’s explicit expiation of guilt for its wartime atrocities, and the rebuilding of peaceful and interdependent economic and political communities under the auspices of the (erstwhile) European Economic Community (EEC), NATO, the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, etc., meaning that the moral trajectory of the 1930s and 1940s is relatively uncontested.21 This is not the case in East Asia, and the extent to which the US, as security guarantor, has both shaped the terms of democratization in Japan and South Korea and been required to manage the tensions between historical adversaries since 1945 has complicated the picture.
The Japanese government’s formal position is that the issues relating to the historical residue of its colonial rule of Korea in the first half of the 20th century, and the specific infringements of human rights towards, for example, the so-called ‘comfort women’, coerced into prostitution for the Imperial Army in the 1930s and 1940s, were resolved when relations were normalized in 1965. But the democratic legitimacy of the regime that agreed to that normalization and the terms under which the then South Korean government implemented the agreement are not accepted by today’s generation of Korean politicians.22
In parallel, the unresolved question of the islands in the East China Sea, known to the Japanese as the Senkaku-tō and to China as the Diayoutai, led to a grave deterioration in relations between the two countries in 2012 after the then Japanese government sought to ‘nationalize’ the islands to prevent extreme right-wingers taking possession of them. The issue over territorial rights goes back to the end of the Pacific War, but also involves a disagreement about whether the islands, effectively controlled by Japan since the late 19th century, were deemed to have been covered by the 1943 Cairo Declaration setting out Allied war aims against Japan. As China–Japan relations deteriorated precipitously in 2012 and 2013, the anti-Japanese rhetoric emanating from China reflected not just arcane territorial arguments, but the intense and apparently unresolved historical memory of wartime suffering in the 1930s and 1940s23 (as well, of course, as shifting economic power).24
Countries’ relationships are not solely defined by the rhetoric of their leaders. The economic relations of the major countries in East Asia remain integral to their national interests: around 36 per cent of Japan’s exports go to China, South Korea and Taiwan; and nearly a quarter of Chinese exports go to other markets in northeast Asia. Levels of popular distrust and disapproval may be high, but Chinese tourism in Japan remains buoyant: a survey in 201725 showed that, with nearly 7 and a half million tourists annually, China accounted for 25.6 per cent of all foreign visitors to Japan, a figure that had risen by 680 per cent since 2007. It has been argued that views of Japan among younger Koreans, who care less about the legacy of colonialism than their parents, are more positive: but evidence is conflicting, and the recent upsurge of anti-Japanese feeling over the ‘comfort women’ has transcended the generations.26 Although the relative easing of political tensions between China and Japan in 2018 may to a degree reflect the extent to which the two countries’ economies, and perhaps also their popular cultures, are intertwined, there is much less evidence of any such movement in South Korea–Japan relations.
Although the relative easing of political tensions between China and Japan in 2018 may reflect the extent to which the two countries’ economies, and perhaps also their popular cultures, are intertwined, there is much less evidence of any such movement in South Korea–Japan relations.
The focus of the Japanese government’s attempts to come to terms with history has been the various statements made by prime ministers to mark anniversaries of the end of the Pacific War. In 1995, on the 50th anniversary, Prime Minister Tomiichi Murayama issued a statement of apology27 making explicitly clear that national policy had been mistaken, that Japanese rule in East Asia had been ‘colonial’ and that Japan had been ‘aggressive’. All Japanese prime ministers since have endorsed that statement. But when Abe in his second premiership came to make a statement on the 70th anniversary of the end of the war, he wanted to go further, and commissioned a 16-strong advisory panel of academics, former officials and journalists (under the chairmanship of Shinichi Kitaoka, president of the International University of Japan), whose deliberations informed the outcome.28 As this author argued at the time,29 Abe was trying to do two things: he wanted to reassert Japanese acceptance of the need to express ‘deep remorse and heartfelt apology’, while at the same time making the statement in a way that enabled the next generation of Japanese to turn the page of history. This lay behind his setting out the historical context (which invited accusations of revisionism, although he did – for the first time – mention former prisoners of war, and included coy language about ‘women behind the battlefields whose honour and dignity were severely injured’). Moreover, while reiterating the need for Japan ‘to squarely face the history of the past’, he asserted the national and international values of contemporary Japan, in order to establish a basis on which current and future generations of Japanese should not feel eternally obliged to apologize for their parents’ and grandparents’ actions.30
Abe received broad support for the statement within Japan. Predictably, he was criticized by China for tinkering with the Murayama statement, but the actual criticism that he received for tilting towards the revisionist end of the political spectrum was more moderate in tone than the rhetoric at the height of the crisis between the two countries. It fell well short of the sort of anger that had been regularly meted out, for example, towards Japanese politicians visiting the Yasukuni Shrine, where Class A war criminals are commemorated.31 This suggested that the attempt to walk this political tightrope had been successful. This was partly a question of calibrating the terms of the apology. But it was also an attempt to negotiate between Abe’s different political constituencies – the nationalists and revisionists who object to Japan continually having to apologize for its history, and the pragmatists who recognize that an apology is appropriate and that Japan’s relationships with its regional partners, and therefore its ability to pursue an activist foreign policy, depend on its tone. It might be described as an attempt to demonstrate a form of leadership that steers both the internal political and the external historical debates in directions that enable Japan to address the constitutional questions that the current administration thinks important, and that set the terms within which the continuing arguments over history, and Japan’s international profile, will be carried forward.
The attempt worked, as the relative rapprochement between Japan and China throughout 2017 and 2018 demonstrated (although air and sea incursions by China in the seas around the disputed islands in the East China Sea have continued).32 While there are underlying structural issues, it is the broader economic and political context that will determine where the centre of gravity of the continuing argument about history lies at any specific time.33 The temptation must always be to deflect challenges to political leadership by invoking actual or perceived challenges from outside the polity: appeals, explicit or implicit, to nationalism are never far away in any of these countries. This may lie behind Chinese hostility to Japan at a time when China’s economy is slowing and challenges to its domestic political status quo are increasing, especially on social media (even if the leadership is apprehensive about inciting too much open hostility against a foreign enemy, lest those expressing this seek other avenues of complaint and protest nearer home).34
The same syndrome is perceived to occur in democracies such as South Korea and Japan, where recent complaints by the Japanese government over aggressive actions by the South Korean coastguard and navy towards a Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force (JMSDF) surveillance aircraft are attributed (by Korean sources) to Prime Minister Abe needing to boost his falling popularity ratings by alleging hostile action by Korean forces.35 A similar critique of ‘displacement anger’ is made by some commentators about anti-Japanese feelings in South Korea – see Robert Kelly’s article, ‘Why South Korea is so obsessed with Japan’, in which he argues that Japan is a ‘useful other’ for South Korea, occupying the place that ‘should really be held by North Korea’, with which the South is in an unresolved conflict over which country most accurately reflects the pure racial identity of Korea.36
It is not inevitable that this type of displacement activity should characterize countries’ relationships. To counter it, there has been an attempt to create a dynamic towards closer partnership, mutualizing areas of policy where closer cooperation makes effective policy formation easier.
It is not inevitable that this type of displacement activity should characterize countries’ relationships in this way. To counter it, there has been an attempt to create a dynamic towards closer partnership, mutualizing areas of policy where closer cooperation makes effective policy formation easier. This was taken forward in a series of intermittent trilateral summits between China, South Korea and Japan from 2008. These have been part of the diplomatic toolbox over the past decade, even in the wake of serious rifts between the countries over territorial and other issues. After various interruptions, the summit process resumed in 2018, with a meeting in Tokyo in May. Unsurprisingly, the strongest evidence of commitment to joint working was in the economic field, with agreement to accelerate negotiations on free trade between the three countries. The summit also agreed on the need to push for faster progress on a high-quality Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP); the importance of resisting protectionism; and a statement on the protection of intellectual property rights, to which China was prepared to put its name. Moreover, in the margins, where bilateral meetings took place, there were Japan/China agreements on defence communication mechanisms in the East China Sea, and a public-sector/private-sector council on the implications of China’s Belt and Road Initiative.
But the shifting patterns of leadership and legitimacy already described mean that the agreements to build closer relationships are always at the mercy of wider political and economic pressures, as well as – in the cases of Japan and South Korea – the autonomy of other institutions, such as South Korea’s constitutional court. The Japan/South Korea mood music in Tokyo in May 2018 was reasonably positive. This did not, however, prevent the links between the two countries taking a downturn later in the year, as a consequence of lawsuits against Japanese companies over wartime slave labour and a resurgence of anger over the ‘comfort women’ issue. (At time of writing, there is evidence of the beginning of a move back towards more civil relations, with a speech by the South Korean prime minister, Lee Nak-yon, expressing eagerness to see an improvement in relations between the two countries – but we have been here before.)37
The overture, if that is what it proves to be, appears to be a result of active US diplomacy, although pressure for an improvement in bilateral relations has been constant in recent years without great effect.38 The competition between different forms of governance, the contested view of history, the tendency to manage internal tensions by playing up external ones – all these factors are managed or exacerbated in accordance with the US’s willingness both to play a role as guarantor of regional security and to set a coherent strategic approach to East Asian policy. Both objectives have been called into question under the Trump administration.