H_S_Yew_2006

The Rape of Nanking: A Quest For Peace

History is the discovering of the constant and universal principles of human nature.

-- David Hume

Truth, they tell us, is grey. It can be the grey of grainy old photographs, bitterly stark and bare. It can be the grey of the Nanjing Memorial Hall of Compatriots, stony in silent remembrance. It can be the grey of a bayonet blade, searing its way through a helpless infant. Or it can be the dull grey of clammy skin, the pallor of unsought death. In the Rape of Nanjing, there are many shades of grey. Each as true as the others.

I first came across Iris Chang’s The Rape of Nanking when I was in fifth grade. At that point in time, the black and white of her pages frightened me, and I skittered to the gaily comfortable present without glancing back. In the years that passed, the massacre hovered in the back of my mind, quiescent but never quiet. For even through the hazy details, I had an irrepressible sense that evil had taken root in Nanjing from December 1937 to January 1938. Yet the issue was so volatile, the topic so raw that it could never be brought up in casual passing. I freely admit that I had no stirring cause to revisit Nanking. I rarely picked up the book and never finished it.

Not until two years ago, that is. When the monochrome of The Rape of Nanking was splashed anew with blood and the Rape claimed one more tragedy. Iris Chang’s demise made it an obligation – no, made it necessary – for me to finally read The Rape of Nanking. I had to find the courage to face the horrors and the terrors she outlined so bleakly in her book.

Read. Recoil. Review and recoil again. I could not read that quietly and believe in its truth. While I too had lost relatives to the war, the tortures and atrocities of the Rape were so extreme they were unthinkable. How could I believe that people were that bestial? Despite the stark photographs and stacks of bibliographic sources in The Rape of Nanking, a part of me wanted to see matters from another angle, tame the fiery ghosts of a past I could not simply accept. I set myself a personal quest to find out more about the massacre – from another point of view.

Until lions have their historians, tales of the hunt shall always glorify the hunters.

-- African Proverb

A recent study conducted at Emory University located the physical basis for a psychological phenomenon termed the confirmation bias1. It is all too human to seek and find confirmatory evidence in support of already existing beliefs and ignore or reinterpret evidence to the contrary. This surety only widened the yawning abyss I soon found myself crisscrossing as I questioned both my Chinese and Japanese friends on their views of the Nanjing Massacre.

The issue literally exploded in my face. I had not realized how closely bitterness on both ends ran to the surface until I started searching for the scabs. I will never forget the one time a Japanese classmate joked, “Well, at least my grandparents beat your grandparents!” I had imagined that being two generations removed, we would be able to bring the topic out into open, civil discussion. Instead, some of my Japanese friends refused to comment on the subject, afraid to “offend” me because of my “Chineseness”. In contrast, the Chinese spoke with passionate vitriol, lambasting the Japanese for their actions then and now. Even the Japanese classmates who agreed to talk to me about the matter bristled warily, strenuously pointing out that while the massacre did occur, the scale was “not as large as that claimed by the Chinese” and that the subject had been “blown out of proportion for political reasons” – all of which were echoed over and over as I searched the Internet and libraries for more information. In fact, the Japanese felt almost as maligned as the Chinese! Friends on both sides sent me lists of websites and wrote detailed expostulations on their views, as I marveled at how blind I had been. Just how deep did this mutual resentment run? What was I doing, in my own small way, by bringing up the past – as Iris Chang had done? Most of all, would it ever end?

“A stiff apology is a second insult... The injured party does not want to be compensated because he has been wronged; he wants to be healed because he has been hurt.”

-- G.K. Chesterton

The most painful issue surrounding the Nanjing Massacre is arguably its lack of closure. Despite the Japanese view that World War II is long bygone, the fact remains that Japan has yet to make a mutually acceptable apology to the Chinese for its war actions2. Furthermore, as pointed out by Iris Chang, Japan has never come under strong international scrutiny – a fact which adds both to the atmosphere of denial that continues to pervade Japan and to the rancor of the Chinese.

When I first read The Rape of Nanking, I was incredulous that an entire nation could be so stubborn in its refusal to acknowledge the truth. After learning more about Japanese views on Nanjing, however, I learnt just how much truth is in the eye of the beholder. The Sino-Japanese impasse is not simply a matter of recalcitrance – but of self-martyrdom. To Japan, the recent clamor for justice is in part a political ploy by China to shame Japan on the world stage. With Japan on the defensive and beleaguered, will it ever truly apologize? Without an apology, can China forgive Japan?

This Gordian tangle makes it clear that the Nanjing Massacre requires global arbitration. As long as China remains the sole crier for justice, Japan will refuse to “give in”, and Nanjing tensions will only continue to simmer, ready to erupt at the slightest provocation.

Another volcanic topic that inflames discussions of the massacre is the war over numbers, ranging from Japanese claims of 100 000 deaths to Chinese charges of 350 000 or more. It is almost as if a smaller number of deaths would justify the Japanese – or by extension, as if increasing the death toll adds to the righteousness of the Chinese. In the end, what does it matter exactly how many died? Even Stalin understood that our humanity disappears when death becomes a glut of statistics. It is simply not worthwhile to allow this issue to continue jeopardizing dialogue between China and Japan.

This current political climate has turned Nanjing into a smoking gun rather than a chance for catharsis. Whereas other massacres become opportunities for open, candid evaluation of humanity at its best and its worst, Nanjing is still swallowed up in unremitting strife decades later. In short, the Nanjing Massacre is not over yet – and will not be until it achieves its proper place in the past, rather than the present, of Chinese and Japanese consciousness.

The continuing contention over Nanjing poisons its own saga as well. I cannot help but feel that the tale of the Nanjing Massacre yearns for more than an ending. It is a tragedy not only of human lives, but of the human spirit – not only in what happened, but in how it could have happened. It is a tragedy not only for the Chinese, but for the Japanese military that allowed this to occur. Yet the extreme polarization and politicization of the bloodbath leaves little room for detached reflection. Every action on the part of either the Japanese or the Chinese is subject to protest, outrage and revulsion. Amidst the roiling mutual acrimony, is it possible to simply mourn the losses of the past?

Have I not reason to lament,

What man has made of man?

-- Wordsworth

My uncle was born in post-war China and raised in Singapore. He identifies himself fiercely as a Chinese, with a furious patriotism inextricably bound to harsh prejudice. To the best of my knowledge, he has never had sushi in his life. He will never step into a Japanese restaurant for as long as he lives, nor befriend any Japanese. Despite having come to understand the violent legacy born of the Nanjing Massacre, I cannot do the same. Although I do not condone the Japanese actions during and since World War II, neither can I support a demonization of the Japanese race as a whole. Prejudice and hatred are cyclic affairs, and as Gandhi noted, there are not enough eyes in this world to justify relentless retaliation.

In fact, the story of The Rape of Nanking transcends a litany of destruction. It is a grim reflection of the banality of evil, reminding us once more how thin the veneer of civilization truly is. Today we have Darfur. Yesterday was Rwanda. Nanking, in that sense, is but another grey stain on the mosaic of human existence.

As an ethnic Chinese, the Nanjing Massacre resonates particularly with me. In a world where people continue to be tortured and killed because of their skin, even the most open-minded of us must acknowledge the boundaries of color and blood that divide humanity. Ironically, however, each gruesome genocide serves not to highlight, but rather to blur the distinctions between us. Nanjing hammers home the message that no race is better than any other. Today some may be tempted to look at war-torn Africa and judge her people as innately inferior beings, incapable of peaceful self-governance. Before doing so, however, we should stop and take stock. Hitler. Pol Pot. Milosevic. Saddam Hussein. Enver. Jamal. Talat. All of us are culpable. All of us are capable of submerging our moral sense beneath hatred and prejudice, a fact which should never be forgotten.

Words are the means to meaning, and for some, the annunciation of truth.

-- V for Vendetta

The other day I ran a simple web search for the words “Holocaust genocide” and found over 7.2 million entries. “Rwanda genocide”, 7 million. “Darfur genocide”, 7 million. “Bosnia genocide”, 3.7 million. “Cambodia genocide”, 2.4 million. “Nanking genocide”. A mere one hundred thousand entries. Although the NanJing DaTuSha continues to burn in the consciousness of the Chinese and Japanese people, it receives minimal coverage in the Western world. Why?

“To forget a holocaust is to kill twice.” More than anything, The Rape of Nanking must be commended for heeding Elie Wiesel’s warning. With its clear descriptions and scrupulous detail, it has opened up a firestorm of controversy that is almost as valuable as the history it imparts. By bringing the saga of Nanjing into the English-speaking world, The Rape of Nanking refocused attention on this barely-buried past, taking the first of many steps towards achieving a much-needed sense of closure. After reading extensive scholarly Japanese refutations of aspects of this book, I have discovered just how hazy the truth can be. I cannot state with certainty that the Japanese rebuttals are completely groundless. Nevertheless, it is undeniable that without The Rape of Nanking, few without an immediate connection to either China or Japan would have heard of this terrible episode. Including me.

Seventy years have passed since the Nanjing Massacre, and yet its legacy remains raw. The scars of World War II still serve as emotional rallying points for patriotism – and mutual hostility. For Chinese worldwide, Nanjing is not only a potent cry for justice, but a channel for national pride – even at the cost of strong anti-Japanese sentiment. As a result, Japan’s war past has become even more inextricably tied to the delicate question of its national identity. For until Japan can give a coherent and globally acceptable response to the question of war responsibility, its former aggression will only continue to perpetuate resentment within the rest of Asia. Just as Germany will always bring to mind the Holocaust, Japan will always be remembered as a perpetrator of crimes against Asia, a fact it cannot hope to whitewash or understate. By regaining the acceptance of its Asian neighbors, Japan will not only recapture its own cultural identity3, but earn the respect so central to its values.

“The value of identity of course is that so often with it comes purpose.”

--Richard R. Grant

In Singapore, we call it “Sook Ching”. It was a month-long systematic extermination of Chinese Singaporeans and Malayans by the Japanese military administration during World War II, ostensibly to eliminate ‘hostile’ elements. Thousands of Chinese men were machine-gunned or drowned, with the killing only ending when Japan’s military resources thinned from employment elsewhere. It is not known how many died, though accepted estimates range around 50 000. The episode echoes Hitler’s “Final Solution” in its cold-blooded purpose. Find, assemble and eliminate.

“Sook Ching” means “cleansing purge”, and is a corollary to the atrocities Japan committed within China. Its smaller scope does not render it any less of a crime than the Nanjing Massacre, and as with its larger cousin, there is still no official apology from Japan to Singapore for this war crime4. Yet Sook Ching is a forgotten holocaust within the ‘forgotten holocaust’. Even within the Chinese community, it is generally relegated to a hurried byline. Worse, in Singapore history books, the Sook Ching massacre rarely takes up more than a paragraph or two, a page at most. Searching the web turns up few sources and even fewer references to primary records. As a Chinese Singaporean, I was stunned to discover what a blank slate Sook Ching was. I wonder if this was how Iris Chang felt when she first started searching for resources for The Rape of Nanking. It is frightening, to have to ask oneself where the history of fifty thousand innocents is.

In some ways, the story of Sook Ching is an even greater tragedy than that of Nanjing. Though the furious contention over Nanjing is distressing, the fact remains that there is discussion, however rancorous, taking place. The questions of responsibility, morality and humanity that the Nanjing Massacre raises are timeless, and ought to be applied to Sook Ching. Singapore is a young nation, and Sook Ching arguably the one large-scale crime against humanity that has taken place in its past. It would not hurt Singapore or Singaporeans to delve into this soul-searching tragedy. After all, in forgetting history we not only are doomed to repeat it. We do a disservice to those who lived and died in it.

History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.

-- Maya Angelou

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________