When I was in Hawaii over spring vacation I decided to visit the USS Arizona
memorial in Pearl Harbor, partly because my grandmother had always
urged that "every American should visit Pearl Harbor," and partly because
I planned to visit Hiroshima in the coming months and thought it
would be only fair to see how both sides--the U.S. and Japan--presented themselves
and their roles in the last "good" war.
My own view of World War II has been influenced by a number of
attitudes and ideologies, mostly based on an intolerance for nuclear
weaponry and war in general (ultimately, is there really anything
"good" about it?), and then an attraction I found to Japanese
culture and people--all of this counter-balanced with respect I
have for my grandparents and their feelings about the war.
One grandfather served in the South Pacific, both my grandmothers
were involved in nursing and the Red Cross, and my other grandfather
served as a dentist and was stationed in Europe. My grandmother's
current husband, a pilot during the war, was shot down by the Japanese
and was left completely blinded and paralyzed on one side. Before
I came to Japan I spoke of my hopes of living in Kobe. "Kobe?" Lewis
(my grandmother's husband) chuckled. "I bombed Kobe. What do you
want to go there for?" But when I asked him how he felt about the
Japanese, he didn't talk about animosity or resentment. He stated
matter-of-factly that what happened to him was just a price that
was paid for wartime, and again that declaration that World War II
was the last of the "great" wars.
My being in Japan puts me in this odd position of being a "learner"--
gaining a more realistic view of Japanese society and understanding
this culture on a deeper level--and also of being a "teacher", in that I am
a kind of representative to the folks back home. What I write
to them about my discoveries and experiences in Japan is perhaps
the only real contact they will ever have with this culture. Thus,
I am sometimes overly conscious of what I write to them. I feel
I have to be careful when I share about my negative experiences,
as if they're already expecting me to have negative experiences,
based on their own pre- and misconceptions about the Japanese.
When I talk about the positive, I try to be equally self-critical as I anticipate
my reader's response: that I am blindly fascinated or have
forgotten that there are negative aspects to my experience.
I was reminded of all these complexities when I visited the
USS Arizona memorial. For those unfamiliar with its significance
to Americans, it is a narrow white memorial building perched atop
the sunken Arizona which was one of many ships bombed in
Pearl Harbor during the surprise attack by the Japanese on December
7, 1941--an event which ultimately launched the United States into
the war. As you stand inside the memorial and look down into the murky
waters at the water-worn and eroding ship beneath, it is impossible
not to reflect on the 1,177 men entombed below. Their bodies
remain there as a memorial to their patriotism.
"Remember Pearl Harbor!" is a phrase most every American has heard, and
my grandfather still, half-jokingly, prods me with it when I go
back to the States. But I don't "remember" Pearl Harbor. It wasn't
my time and it wasn't my war, and it's almost impossible for me to
get worked up about. Certainly it's vital that we, and all societies
for that matter, remember the cost of history, in hopes that we never
repeat the same mistakes. That's how I remember Pearl Harbor--and
Hiroshima. It seems, however, that remembering Pearl Harbor, in many
American minds, is equated with "don't forget what the Japanese
did to us." Perhaps it's the same with some Japanese in
remembering Hiroshima, though my perception of Japanese remembrance
of the bomb is that it has turned into a plea for peace and a movement
to end the possibility of nuclear war. Only the Japanese know what
it's like to have nuclear bombs dropped on its civilian population.
Most foreign residents of Japan are aware, of course, of the "victim mentality"
adopted by the Japanese, and the unwillingness of the Japanese
government to admit to, accept, and teach its population about its
own historical misdeeds. Yet the younger generations of Americans
and Japanese are not licking wartime wounds--or perhaps we are, licking
the wounds for the older generations by being willing to learn
from one another.
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