Have you ever read a book that made you feel angry and betrayed? I never have – until I read the book, “Hirohito” by Herbert P. Bix. As of this writing, I’m only 40% into the book. With so many of the pages that I read so far, I felt like I was being stabbed in my heart, shredding to pieces what I believed to be true all of my life of 65 years.
I accept the content of the book to be true because the book has a seal of approval by Kodansha, one of the most highly-regarded publishing companies in Japan as well as the thoroughness of the author’s research and supporting references. This company would not put its reputation at risk by publishing materials that are not based on facts.
To make it perfectly clear, it is not the author at whom I felt those negative emotions. Rather, it was the subject matter, Emperor Showa of Japan himself (aka Hirohito), who is now deceased. His deceptions, how the millions of Japanese people who had no choice but to fight in his name and lost their precious lives, and how the culture – with the Emperor at the very top of the hierarchical society – had a lot to do with how the Japanese society functioned and still does today. For better or for worse, it remains a country bound by its tradition and hierarchy.
So many pieces of information made me livid – so much so that I found myself getting very irritable every time I picked up this book to read. Yet I forced myself to keep reading a few pages at a time because the topic is a significant part of the country of my origin. It is as if I am discovering the layers upon layers of the root cause of why I had to escape Japan.
The culture in which I grew up had a lot to do with the wishes of the Emperor. The culture that believes that the Japanese are a superior race. The culture that demands women to be subservient to men through its language structures. The culture that makes me feel guilty addressing him as Hirohito; how dare I not address him as His Majesty!
Hirohito was the emperor when I was born; he was still the emperor when I left Japan. The imperial family was always a part of my life growing up, just as it was for all other Japanese. I did not know to question his role in the Japanese society. He was the symbol of Japan – a benevolent Emperor whose hobby was marine biology. I never doubted that he was the benevolent hero who saved Japan and his “subjects” by surrendering to the Allied Forces despite strong objections by the military.
Until this book was published, Emperor Showa’s true role during WWII had been suppressed. Now, there is no doubt he was intimately involved – even in the attack on Pearl Harbor. This account, incidentally, also happens to be confirmed by the pilot, Mitsuo Fuchida, who led the attack. (Starting in September 2014, I will post a four-part series about Fuchida’s book, “For That One Day: The Memoirs of Mitsuo Fuchida, Commander of the Attack on Pearl Harbor.”)
Truth – once you learn it – hurts. For me, learning the truth about Hirohito is somewhat akin to, but much worse than, Luke Skywalker being told by Darth Vader that he was his father; after all, they are fictional characters in a movie.
Showa Emperor was a man with all of the imperfections of a real human being. He was quite successful in creating a benevolent image after WWII – with the support of General MacArthur, the Supreme Commander for Allied Powers – as if none of the casualties sustained by the Japanese and its then enemies were Hirohito’s fault at all.
Growing up in Japan, I was being taught the virtue of telling the truth and taking responsibility for the things I do. Well, Hirohito – the man at the top of the hierarchy – was allowed to get away with murder, literally, by insisting on putting the blame on his subordinates. As they say, absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Now that I got this anger out of my system by writing about it, I think I can resume reading the rest of the book.
To be continued.
