Embracing Defeat: Japan in the Wake of World War II

The fourth chapter broadly examines the subject of human resilience in the face of war fatigue and postwar despair. The author refers to this phenomenon as the “spirit of individual survival” (146), arguing that the Japanese were able to gradually transcend this despair. Dower’s focal point are the subcultures on the margins of society: the sex workers engaged with the American occupation troops, black-market vendors, as well as street gangs, and the yakuza—the Japanese mafia. Dower supplements his analysis with popular magazines and pulp literature to identify some of the common themes of the material.

The author analyzes the operations of the sex industry in early postwar Japan as well as the industry’s relationship with the American occupation troops. Considering the dismal socio-economic conditions at this time, many women were forced into sex work due to lacking basic necessities. They were known as the “women of the dark,” or panpan (124-25). Wanting to protect what they perceived as the more reputable women of Japan from American occupiers, Japan’s officials attempted to partly legalize the sex-work industry by establishing the so-called comfort facilities; in other words, the officials believed that if the American occupiers had access to sex work services provided by financially desperate women, it would prevent the more “reputable” women from being sexually assaulted. Initially, these facilities were organized secretly by Japan’s Home Ministry through agreements with “entrepreneurs.”

Soon, the necessity to “defend young women of Japan” (125)—by preventing sexual assault—translated into official support for these facilities by several administrative bodies, including the Ministry of Finance, the Home Ministry, and the Foreign Ministry. The Tokyo RAA, Recreation and Amusement Association, regulated sex work serving Americans. However, there were many problems with this arrangement. First, many sex workers were terrified of Americans as a result of wartime propaganda. Second, those who were engaged in sex work were doubly vulnerable: not just the women struggling to support themselves in other ways, but also “third-country people”—the Chinese, Japanese, and those of other ethnicities. This category of women already faced prejudice in their daily life. The sex workers in the RAA served anywhere between 15 to 60 American GIs on a daily basis. Some women, forced into these conditions, died by suicide.

Dower also details the involvement of various regulating bodies managing the industry, such as the municipal government’s hygiene department in the capital. In light of all the problems, the RAA was dismantled in January 1946. One of the key reasons for this decision was the skyrocketing venereal diseases among the occupation troops. Soon, however, public sex work transformed into red-line districts. Dower estimates that anywhere between 55,000-70,000 women turned to sex work during occupation.

Sex work was also linked to kasutori culture (bunka)—a response to postwar hardship, ranging from escapism to sexualization. The term kasutori referred to a particular kind of drink—a favorite of artists “who made a cult out of degeneracy and nihilism” (148). This outlook also emerged in popular magazines, such as Fuufu Sekai (Couples’ World) and Aijou Sakasu (Love Love). The kasutori culture lasted into the 1950s—“a legacy of escapism, titillation, and outright sleaze” (148). The sensuality of these publications stood in stark contrast to wartime militarism.

Yet another development was the open-air markets, in which people—spontaneous entrepreneurs—sold many small items. By October 1945, there were approximately 17,000 such establishments throughout Japan. Joblessness pushed people into the black markets, where even children worked as vendors. Due to the markets’ nature, the yakuza played a dominant role. Gangs divided cities amongst themselves. For instance, the Matsuda gang ruled the Shinbashi area of Tokyo, whereas the Ueda gang took charge of the Ginza district. Despite the mafia’s presence, the police were sometimes ineffective. Systemic corruption significantly exacerbated this issue. Eventually, however, markets became more organized. In 1946, the Shinbashi market enjoyed police control as well as vendor unions as a result of these improvements.

The final chapter of Part II focuses on other types of literature, such as newspapers and bestsellers, and analyzes how specific words (and communication in general) were used to transition from wartime to postwar conditions. According to Dower, language and identity are interrelated. One key change was realism, the Japanese citizens’ eventual response to their government’s fabricated idealism: Japanese wartime propaganda promoted Japan as the source of civilization for the rest of its empire—“imperial culture is the light of Asia” (176). The government propagandistically romanticized Japan’s imperialism to overcome the economic constraints of a global economic downturn and catch up with other developed countries. At the same time, Japanese militarism did not allow for deviations from this supremacist paradigm, nor did it allow satire and self-deprecating humor. It was this type of humor that arose in postwar Japan to challenge the previous decade. Words describing optimism and brightness became more common. Gambaru, a more realistic paradigm of doing one’s best, was part of the postwar exhortations to work for reconstruction, peace, democracy, or the new Japan.

The Japanese were already expected to embrace change rather than maintain the status quo. For this reason, looking “into the future with a sense of continuity and hope” was not an unusual transition for that country (179). One way in which this transition occurred was the explosion of periodicals and book publishing in the immediate aftermath of the war. These publications were also diverse; for instance, there was an increase in those catering to a female audience. If at the end of the war, there were an estimated 300 publishing houses, less than a year later, this number increased to nearly 2,000. By 1948, the number of publishing houses more than doubled. Japan experienced a true hunger for words.

Some publications, such as the Kyōryoku Shimbun (Cooperative Press), engaged with grand narratives, such as transforming the national purpose of Japan from wartime militarism and austerity to postwar objectives, with titles like a “Guide to Recovery Issue” (183). Others rejected militarism in more subtle ways such as positioning Japan as a country of great cultural importance. The Shinsei (New Life) periodical boldly announced that the old Japan was defeated. Some publications, like the 1946 bestseller The Twenty-Year Whirlwind (Sempu Nijunen), addressed wartime Japan in an authentic, self-reflective manner by examining the destruction of that period. Overall, these publications rejected wartime militarism in one way or another.

Translations of foreign literature also became very popular at this time. Jean-Paul Sartre’s Nausea, for instance, made it to the top 10 sellers in 1946. A brief English-language conversation book created by the editor Ogawa Kikimatsu did even better by maintaining the record for an all-time bestseller until 1981. The Japanese society not only embraced the explosion of literature but also displayed an openness to outside perspectives from foreign literature.

In addition to regular periodicals, Japan produced other unusual publications. One author, the Catholic scientist Takashi Nagai, was known as the “saint of Nagasaki.” He died of the long-term effects of radiation in 1951:

Essentially, he regarded the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki as the act of a Christian God meant to bring the world to its senses. That the second atomic bomb fell on a city with a long tradition of Christianity only reinforced his sense of divine intervention (198).

Nagai’s rejection of militarism was part of the broader mystical Christian tradition.