I hear through the grapevine that the organizers of Otakon, the huge anime/manga/pop culture convention held every in August in Baltimore, are looking for academic papers and panels on East Asian art, history, and culture to round out their offerings. Interested parties should contact Omar Jenkins, Head of Programming.

Jeremiah Jenne over at Jottings from the Granite Studio¹ will be hosting an Asian history carnival sometime during the week of May 5th. If you have postings you would like to nominate for the carnival, please send them directly to Jeremiah. You can reach him at jgjenne at ucdavis.edu. Another way to submit nominations is to tag it on del.icio.us with the tags ahcarnival for regular blog postings or ahresources for Asian history related online resources.

1. The site is currently down, but Jeremiah will work to get it back up for next week

I’m pleased to announce the publication by Shinsensha of the translated version of Japanese Diasporas, ｼﾞｬﾊﾟﾆｰｽﾞﾃﾞｲｱｽﾎﾟﾗ, 足立伸子 （編著), including my article “一八八五～九四年の移住者への訓示.” ¹ I learned, in the process of writing this post, that my article (in the English language edition) is actually cited and used correctly on the Wikipedia Japanese Diaspora page: “The Japanese Government was keen on keeping Japanese emigrants well-mannered while abroad in order to show the West that Japan was a dignified society, worthy of respect.” I may have to revise my opinion of wikipedia, after all.

In other news, Manan Ahmed sent me this Japanese Robot video, and while watching it I was struck by the realization that the early modern Japanese robots are based on a much older Japanese technology: Bunraku puppets. In this video, for example, you can see a demonstration of how the facial features are manipulated.

1. Professional Question: Is the translation listed as a separate publication on the c.v.? If so, do you note that it is a translation of an earlier publication? If not, do you just list it under the original publication: “published in translation as….”?

I was thinking about whether to even attempt a contribution to the latest symposium on the role of historical animosities — and their appeasement — in present political tensions when a holiday happened: Passover, the Jewish celebration of the Exodus from Egypt. On the first evening, we celebrate the Seder — literally “order” — a process of remembrance and celebration. But there are elements of sadness: in the midst of telling the story, we spill wine from our cups in honor of the plague-suffering of the Egyptians. Before the Seder even begins, first-born Jews refrain from eating and drinking from sunrise, in remembrance of the first-born Egyptians slain in the final plague. It’s an odd practice, historically, nearly unprecedented: a deliberate rehumanization of “the enemy” enshrined at the heart of what is, arguably, the most centrally Jewish celebration of the ritual year.

I’m not entirely sure that it helps, since there never was an historical reconiciliation between the ancient Israelites and the Pharonic Egyptians.¹ But I think it is an important “Zeroth” condition to add to Valérie Rosoux’s Four Conditions:

• “The first is that the moment must be right; the parties must be ready to take on this task. This implies that they perceive themselves to be in a mutually hurtful stalemate and that they envisage the possibility of a way out.”
• “A process of rapprochement can only be undertaken if all parties perceive the effort to be necessary and profitable. Former belligerents will only try to commit themselves if they believe that such an attitude directly serves their national interests.”
• “The representatives of each party must of course be skilled negotiators – i.e. they must be flexible, sensitive, imaginative, patient, and tenacious. But in addition to these qualities, they must have support among their respective populations.”
• “Without political support ‘from above’, the efforts of some individuals and/or groups will not be sufficient to influence the whole population and to give clear signals to the other party. Conversely, without the support of the population, modifications brought to official memory are sterile and vain.”

Using these standards, it seems painfully clear that Japan has an immense distance before it can even credibly begin an historical reconciliation with its WWII and colonial-era victims. For that matter, I wonder whether this model applies: the idea of forgiveness and reconciliation seems to stem from the concept of sin, which is largely absent in the Asian religious and metaphysical traditions. There are narratives of atonement, but they usually involve extraordinary self-sacrifice² and aren’t really transactions between equals.

As evidence, I offer a sampling of news stories from my collection — stories that I bookmarked because I thought they might be worth blogging at some point, but never quite got around to. Some of these are a year old — these are difficult, but perennial, issues, and hard to spend a lot of time on without getting gloomy. I already deal with them in class on a regular basis: I’m doing the war crimes and legacies of WWII in my World History class on Tuesday, and we’ve been discussing the long-term effects of the Cultural Revolution on the Chinese national psyche³ in my 20c China class. What these articles say to me, over and over again, is that there isn’t a lot of progress being made, that things aren’t changing. There was a lot of damage done over the last century, on all sides. That’s sad, but — other than a committment to historical realism, honesty and clarity — I don’t know what more I can do.

• The first thing in my queue is not a news story, but Konrad Lawson’s discussion of Korean memories of Japanese colonialism, an excellent meditation which raises historical, pedagogical, and ethical questions. Here’s another piece on echoes of the colonial past in South Korea. Also, No Gun Ri massacre more likely intentional.
• Attempts to create joint histories foundering.
• From NPR, a haiku poet in the relocation camps, making art out of trauma. Japanese Canadians shared much of the American experience.
• Japanese historian Yoshimi Yoshiaki has been getting press for honest research on comfort women, and Chinese activists are still finding new evidence. Congressional pressure may not be helping. Australians are cutting through their own memory shrouds as well.
• The Battle of Okinawa is another sticking point. Japanese historians and Okinawans are pushing for an honest accounting of the Japanese military’s actions and, if memory serves, a Japanese court has granted them some relief.
• The Japanese government is witholding documentation on post-war treaties. Japanese lawmakers are still coming to light.
• Some hope? Glorification of suicide squads prompts some anti-war commentary.

Grand conclusions? No: it’s a process. But is it even a process at this point, when there seems to be so much at stake in keeping the wounds open and festering and so little advantage to bridging the gaps?

P.S. For a more detailed comparative look at historical atrocities and memory reconciliation, see Mark Selden

1. Then there’s the question of the historicity of the biblical narrative….
2. up to and including pentitential suicide
3. I actually hate talking about “national psyche” because it’s a sloppy, artificial, concept, usually invoked to justify some absurdity. But in the case of the memory holes represented by Japan’s wartime atrocities and China’s self-inflicted wounds, I find it a useful rhetorical tool.

Keene includes several extended reminiscences of Meiji published immediately after his death. Unfortunately, some are included in the original French (pp. 707 and 709). Many thanks to Nathanael Robinson, who generously and meticulously translated these from the 19c formal French. I’ve appended these to the chapter guide for future reference.

Ito Hirobumi:

Whatever might be the causes which helped Japan in its progress, and whatever part we might have had in its success over the years, all that is insignificant when compared with what the country needs from his majesty, the emperor. The imperial will has always been the light that guides the nation. Whatever could be the contributions of those, like myself, who are trying to help his enlightened government, it would have been impossible to obtain such remarkable results had it not been for his great, wise and progressive support that is always behind every new reform.

Suematsu Kencho:

His Majesty provides the steadiest attention to each area of the affairs of the state. Every day, from the early morning till the late hours, he works with his cabinet on public affairs. He knows what matters concern each department, above all that which affects the army and navy. . . . Sometimes he astonishes [us] with his knowledge of events among his people. He takes a keen interest in everything that happens in the major countries of the world, his only desire being to learn from other nations.

The comment of the French editorialist was astute:

The emperor was able, at certain times, to influence the policy of his ministers, because his ability to act and his intelligence were not in doubt. But his main work, which he achieved with remarkable wisdom, was to be the head of state, the living symbol of national life and the public interest . . . . The great kings are not those who, like Philip II, want to manage the affairs of state by themselves, but those who, having placed their trust in great ministers, support them with all the prestige of the monarchy.

Reporter for The Journal (G. de Banzemont)

Mutsu-hito was not only one of the most celebrated emperors of Japan, but also one of the greatest monarchs of the modern world. One need only recall the anguish that gripped the Japanese nation at the first news of the sovereign’s illness. Over several days, the tearful crowd marched, without concern for the torrid heat, under the windows of the imperial palace. On their knees, their foreheads covered in dust, in a common voice, they pleaded with the gods. And as soon as a dull lamp, illuminating the room of the deceased, announced that the monarch passed away in agony, there came the most violent explosion of sorrow that can be imagined.

Ito’s comment seems somewhat noncommittal — “support” and “guides” aren’t specific — but emphasizes the “progressive” modernizing elements of the regime.¹ Suematsu, on the other hand, who served as an ambassador and Home minister, is effusive and clear. The “astute” French editorialist presents what could well be a summary of Keene’s own views.² de Banzemont’s narrative is echoed, but not quite confirmed, by Japanese sources Keene cites, and seems a bit excessive.³

1. Keene, in footnotes, says that the date of this statement “is not clear” but doesn’t explicitly remind the reader that Ito’s been dead for three years.
2. That’s what “astute” means: agrees with me
3. At some point, when I have more time, I want to go back to Japanese newspapers of the time.