Repentance. Tsugunai. Atonement.
The late Fr. Gary Bradley, S. J. was fond of pointing out that on Saipan, we fuss more on people when they are dead than when they are alive. In our medieval Christian cosmology that locates heaven and purgatory as geography up in the sky where effervescent entities arise, our religious rituals in conducting wakes and novenas before interment is widely observed and very logistically involved. The amount of economic resource that goes into its observance is incalculable.
It is said that the Japanese culture places more emphasis upon the ‘pacification of departed spirits’ (irei) than upon the repentance on slights and affronts committed on the living. The tradition of irei is a deep stream in Japanese religiosity. Folksy rituals take seriously unpacified spirits (onryo) who are greatly feared for the havoc they may cause on the living. As for the living, they are best to be left alone.
In the Rescript Ending the War, Emperor Hirohito “repented” “before the hallowed spirits of the ancient ancestors.” Shrouded in the mysticism of the Divine Land, and the cult of Emperor worship, the Emperor’s repentance would have been sufficient for Nippon. But Prince Higashikuni, Prime Minister on the day General MacArthur arrived in Tokyo, would call on “all one hundred million Japanese to repent” (ichioku so zange) in order to start a new national life. The Land of the Rising Sun was prompted to create a new day.
It is perhaps no longer pertinent to recall that in the historical situation of 1945, the question to whom the Japanese should repent to was not an easy one. After the saturation bombings by the United States and the devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, repenting to the Americans was an existential impossibility. On hindsight, some in Japan today suggest that it would have been best to repent before the defenseless people upon whom the Imperial designs inflicted injury, i.e., the Chinese, Koreans, Filipinos, Malaysians, Burmese, Indonesians, et al. But the self-righteousness of the realm was so ingrained at the time that the nation was deprived of the ability to repent meaningfully. In fact, even today, there are still those in Nippon who consider themselves the “victims,” not “perpetrators,” of the crimes committed by their military leaders in the 15-year War, or worse, that indeed, the atrocities were solely for “self-defense.”
Two points will illuminate this self-righteousness that is a source of pride for those who consider it a quality of self-confidence; a bane for those who see it as an instance of arrogance.
First, Japan came in late in identifying itself as axis mundi, the center of world. China calls itself without apology, ‘the middle kingdom.’ Rome had the audacity to split the world between Spain and Portugal. Most ancient civilizations, if not all, were fueled by the understanding that in them revolved the cosmic patterns. The Meiji Restoration did such a good job at inculcating the myth of the Divine Domain that even after Okinawa was conquered at a cost of 200,000 defenders, Chief of Staff of the Army, General Umezu would urged the people to have “faith in the Ultimate Victory.” The War Ministry issued Instruction to the Soldier with General Anami promoting the mysticism of the Divine Land. A bamboo spear would repel the invasion expected in November. A month later, the August skies of Japan would be violently disturbed.
Second, the colorful Japanese definition of sin (tsumi) is clothed in practical agricultural imagery. It is about breaking down the ridges between the rice paddies that unnecessarily drain water, covering irrigation ditches that stems water flow, opening the sluices that causes flooding, double planting between the sown rows of rice, setting up stakes denoting false boundaries. It is about skinning an animal alive and flaying it backwards. It is about defecating in the wrong place. Tsumi is disturbing social organization, bringing chaos to ordered society. That the Imperial policies disturbed a wide swath of Asian territory is without question.
Needless to add that repentance in the Way of the Bushido were two ways: self-extinction (harakiri/seppuku), or turning into a cloistered monk, engaging in sustained acts of charity. Many took the former path as a sign of their integrity, and as atonement for disgracing social stability. Creativity has been known to emanate from those who took the second path.
Emperor Akihito’s pilgrimage of profound sorrow to Saipan must be viewed with the backdrop of Meiji’s Divine Domain, but with the intervening years since as the context. As Prime Minister Kaizoumi declared to the world not too long ago, Japan must be judged on what it has done to itself and rest of the world in the last 60 years.
Yet, we must also recognize the personal grief that the former Tsugonomiya bring to the occasion. It is well known that the Imperial household was rent with dissension over the prosecution of the War. Some have held on to the view that if certain decisions were made earlier, which the Emperor was inclined to do, less suffering would have been visited upon the members of the realm. Prince Tsugo would have been old enough to feel this family ambivalence in his bones. Should there be a psychological dimension to this pilgrimage, it would be perfectly understandable.
For now, this commoner wishes to pass on a revered secret in human history he derived from his tradition. (I suspect the Emperor had heard it before.) “All are forgiven.” This is the good news that Christians are commissioned to bring to every person on earth. The good news is not that everyone should become a Christian. The good news is that everyone is forgiven! The good news is that all we are required to do for reconciliation to occur is to accept our forgiveness.
No amount of repentance can bring back what already has transpired. Even Santayana’s admonition that those who do not learn from history are bound to repeat it, is no consolation. The past is done. Period. It is forgiven. The future is open. We only have to decide. The present is a choice: either condemn it, or celebrate it.
Your Highnesses have chosen “Peace Everywhere” as the motif of your reign. Kem pei! And may peace be with you!