An Inoffensive Rearmament (29 page)

Justice Minister Kimura, in the course of his reply to the Diet, gave a new twist to the constitutional argument by defining “war potential” as something much more powerful than rifles, machine guns, mortars, and artillery. He contended that in a modern world, a nation could not be considered to possess “war potential” if it did not have the A-bomb and jet airplanes. Kimura proposed that since the NPR did not possess these weapons of mass destruction, it could not be construed to be in violation of the constitution, which, according to the justice minister, denounces war as a means of settling international disputes.

Hitoshi Ashida, former prime minister of Japan, leader of the Progressive Party (Kaishintō), and a strong proponent of rearmament, supported the attorney general's view, arguing, “Although Article 9 of the Constitution renounces war, recourse to armed threats and maintenances of an army, this refers strictly to means of settling international differences. When this is interpreted in everyday language, it means war of aggression. Therefore, war and recourse to arms for the sake of self-defense is not denied by this article in the constitution. Likewise war as a punishment against aggression is exempted from application of this article.”

Ashida and the Progressive Party thus faced the rearmament issue squarely, and the Progressive Party was the first political party to make a forthright declaration for rearmament of the nation. Though Ashida's interpretation of the constitution seemed to permit Japan to establish military forces, the Progressive Party urged that the constitution be revised.

The right Socialists found themselves on the horns of a dilemma. The party platform was pledged to support the constitution, upholding Article 9, but many of the party members believed that in order to have a meaningful defense establishment, the constitution had to be amended.

The hard core of the opposition to rearmament was concentrated in the left-wing Socialists, the Labor-Farmer Party (Rōnōtō), and the Communist Party. This bloc argued that the NPR was an army and as such was in violation of the constitution. The Socialist Party raised the legality of the NPR in the Supreme Court in 1951, but the court avoided the constitutional question. Under these political circumstances, the government proceeded with its gradual rearmament of the country while the parties of the Left, possessing more than the required one-third of the members in the Diet, managed to block all efforts to revise the constitution.

One of the major fears of the people, especially students, teachers, and trade unionists, was that the NPR and whatever military organization eventually evolved in the country would become a political tool of those in power. These groups had suffered too recently at the hands of the militarists to forget what the military was capable of doing to a nation. In their view, rearmament was being supported by the same fascists and rightists who had stifled democracy in the past.

But all government institutions tend to try to stifle democracy, and the struggle for freedom is endless. I thought the responsibility for maintaining democracy and freedom was placed in proper perspective by a prophetic answer given in reply to a question from a newspaper reporter by Colonel Kiyohara Chihara, commander of Camp Himeji in Hyōgo Prefecture. Colonel Chihara was asked, “Don't you fear that the NPR will be utilized as a tool for political strife in the future?” Chihara pondered the question for a long time, and then he quietly responded, “It is the responsibility of the people to guard against such an eventuality.”

The answer demonstrated that at least one formal Imperial officer had acquired a deep understanding of democracy. As the time for the 1952 election campaign approached, the people were to discover that Japan was to experience still another new exercise in democracy. This came in the form of instructions from General Group Headquarters to camp commanders advising them that all qualified NPR personnel would be authorized under the new law to cast absentee ballots. The personnel in the Imperial forces did not vote in prewar Japan. On learning of these instructions, newspaper reporters flooded the camps to record the views of the soldiers on rearmament. One view became immediately clear: they knew they were in the army. A Sergeant Senda gave a typical answer: “We know where we stand. Two years ago when we joined the NPR, we didn't know whether we were going to be policemen or soldiers. Now we know we are in the NPR to defend our country.”

Many concurred with the views of a young captain who declared emotionally, “I don't care what the government calls us. As long as we have arms we are troops. Even a three-year-old kid has the instinct to defend himself. If there is a chance that Japan may be attacked by a foreign power, we better have troops.”

While the newspapers featured the comments of various soldiers and officers serving in the NPR, there were many, especially among the Imperial officers who had recently joined the NPR, who were reluctant to become involved in political
controversies. These people were uncomfortable with the press. They generally agreed with the view of a former lieutenant colonel who declared forcefully, “It may be all right for some to be interested in politics, but it would be better for the NPR and the country if we did not have the right to vote as was the case in the old army.”

A vocal minority, on the other hand, opposed rearmament in strong and sometimes embarrassing outbursts. Many of the NPR personnel came from the industrial centers where the trade unions and leftist political parties exerted strong influences. These people followed the Socialist line and their replies to queries left no doubt of their feelings. A comment of a senior sergeant of the force summarized their views: “If there is money for rearmament, let us make it available for social welfare programs. We are rearming,” he argued, “because the Americans demand that our government rearm.”

Both the Left and extreme Right found common ground in Japan in criticizing American motives on rearmament and the way it was being carried out. The Left objected to the pressure the U.S. government was reported to be exerting on the Japanese to escalate the military forces, while the extreme Right, mostly former militarists, was critical of American dominance in organizing, training, and equipping these forces. The mass of the Japanese people, whether they supported or opposed rearmament, were deeply concerned and often embarrassed by the obvious presence of American officers in the NPR Headquarters in Tōkyō and more particularly in the camps throughout Japan. In the light of these political evasions, contradictions, and endless bickering, it is understandable that the Japanese people were hopelessly confused regarding the nature of the NPR and the government's intentions on rearmament. Almost two years after the establishment of the NPR, it is astonishing how many of the Japanese believed that the organization was actually a police force.

During this formative period, I made it my responsibility to watch carefully Japanese opinion polls reflecting national attitudes toward the NPR, the constitutional prohibition on military forces, the rearmament program, and the presence of Americans in Japan. I was advised that some of the early polls, left much to be desired scientifically, but most were acceptable as indicators of public opinion and national trends. In reading and analyzing these polls, I found that reality in public matters was not always easily discernible. For example, I knew that we were rearming Japan, the Japanese officials knew we were building a Japanese army, and the NPR and its armament were obvious to anyone except a blind person.
But the national opinion polls showed that the people were senselessly befuddled. Though a sizable segment of the population was able to cut through the fog of political nonsense, a large percentage of the people believed their national leaders. Japanese, however, are not unique in this regard. Millions of Americans have shown similar disposition, especially during the Vietnam War, to accept their leaders' announcements as gospel truths. This tendency to believe without questioning must be a kind of dependence on authority, probably an extension of our childhood faith in parental omnipotence.

There was nevertheless considerable independent thinking. A surprisingly heavy percentage of the people seemed committed to the Japanese constitution. These people were indicating their support of the provision against war and military potential. Many professed a strong commitment to peace through international law and order. The polls significantly demonstrated a deep suspicion of any movement back to prewar aspirations. Logic in the difficult international environment called for defensive measures and some kind of military machinery, but the majority of the Japanese people were not going to follow any harebrained militarists down a road anything like the one that took them into the Pacific War.

In the latter part of August 1950, as our four-division force was being assembled in NPR camps throughout the country, the
Mainichi Shimbun
asked a sampling of 3,552 people (of which 3,220 responded) the question: “Do you think the police reserve force (Keisatsu Yobitai) can protect Japanese security?” The respondents split almost evenly; 36.4 percent answered yes and 35.2 percent no. Disturbed by the communist invasion of Korea, Japanese had little enthusiasm for the new force being organized in Japan.

A year and a half later, in February 1952, when the
Asahi Shimbun
asked a sampling of 3,000 people (of whom 2,614 responded) the question, “For what purpose do you think Japan has its police reserve?” one-third of those answering believed the organization was established as a police force to maintain law and order. Only 3 percent thought the NPR was an army, and another 16 percent suggested that it was a substitute for an army or a preparation for rearmament. When this question was asked, the
yobitai
were armed with M-1 rifles, machine guns, rocket launchers, and mortars, and there was talk in the newspaper that the troopers were receiving training in artillery and tanks.

It was not surprising then when the
Asahi
asked the same people, “Premier Yoshida said, ‘I will never rearm Japan.' Do you believe this?” 48 percent, or
about half, said they did not believe the prime minister. Most of the respondents did not feel they could answer the question or said they believed him. Men were more skeptical than women. Only about a third of the women said they did not believe Yoshida, whereas about two-thirds of the men who answered doubted the prime minister's veracity.

During the latter part of 1950, 1951, and early 1952, there were numerous public opinion polls conducted by the
Mainichi, Asahi, Yomiuri, Yoron Kagaku, Yoron Chōsa Renmei,
and other agencies on the question of rearmament of Japan. There were variations in the questions asked, so a simple summary of the answers cannot be presented here. In most of the polls, about half of those answering favored some kind of rearmament for Japan after the peace treaty. A strong third opposed any rearmament. A
Mainichi
public opinion poll published April 14, 1952, or two weeks before Japan regained its sovereignty, showed that only 38.3 percent wanted Japan to have a military force, while 41.4 percent of the women opposed the formation of such a force.

In a February 1952 poll, the
Asahi
posed the proposition, “The government has a plan of strengthening the NPR. Do you think this is necessary?” Only 45 percent answered that it should be strengthened. The women again were more afraid of rearmament; only 32 percent supported a strengthening of the force. When the
Asahi
in a later poll asked whether the NPR should become a foundation for a new Japanese army, the respondents were not enthusiastic, with 38 percent supporting the view.

On the question of whether Japanese forces should have compulsory or voluntary service, the Japanese people were overwhelmingly against the draft. In a poll on this question conducted by the
Mainichi
in September 1951, only 18.5 percent approved a draft whereas 69.2 percent favored voluntary recruitment, if there were to be military forces. A similar poll by the
Asahi
taken five months later found only 17 percent supporting compulsory service, with 64 percent for a voluntary program.

While the Diet debated Article 9 of the constitution and acrimonious arguments raged throughout the nation, several opinion polls surveyed attitudes of the people. Practically everyone in Japan accepted General MacArthur as the author of the “no war, no war potential” provision of the constitution. Moreover, most of the people recognized that this provision was forced upon the nation. Nevertheless, a large segment of the people hung tenaciously to this idealistic concept. In April
1952, the
Shimbun Yoron Chōsa Renmei,
querying a sampling of 3,000 people (of whom 2,907 responded), asked the question, “If a plebiscite is held on the revision of the constitution to pave the way for rearmament, will you support revision of the constitution?” Only 42.5 percent said they would support such a revision. It is interesting to note that when the
Asahi
in early 1953 asked a similar question, “The Japanese Constitution has a clause according to which Japan renounces war forever and promises never to have an army. Do you favor this clause?” a bare 15 percent answered that they favored this clause.

Opinion polls taken in the spring of 1952 demonstrated that the Japanese people, after seven years of occupation, were becoming tired of American controls. Though a heavy percentage of the people queried recognized that they were dependent upon our military protection, they nevertheless wanted our military forces withdrawn from Japan as soon as possible. In many people, this uneasiness stemmed in part from a fear that the Soviet-American struggle in Asia would overflow from Korea into Japan, and they wanted none of that.