When modern-day Mitsubishi Materials executives recently apologized to U.S. prisoners of war who were forced to toil in the Japanese mines of its predecessor company during the Second World War, the company seemed unprepared for the overwhelming response to its unprecedented action.
The apology, made in Los Angeles to a surviving American PoW, seemed heartfelt and was duly accepted. But immediately, journalists and veterans' groups began raising rather difficult questions. What about an apology to Korean and Chinese labourers? What about an apology to the British, Dutch, Australian and Canadian PoWs who endured horrific treatment as they were starved, beaten, denied proper shelter and sanitation, and veritably enslaved to dig up the raw materials of Japan's war effort?
Mitsubishi, having waited roughly 70 years to make this apology, seems not to be in a rush to make others. That might be because its apology has opened a Pandora's box, putting to rest the concerns of some while tapping into deep, historic grievances of countries in the region and around the world. The rather unexpected corporate apology from Mitsubishi came at a time when the region is on edge, partly because of high expectations for broader contrition from Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe – who is set to give remarks on Aug. 15, the 70th anniversary of the end of hostilities during the Second World War – and partly because Mr. Abe, an ardent nationalist, is trying to revise Japan's overtly pacifist constitution, which was imposed on Japan by the U.S. after the Allied victory in 1945, to allow Japan to deploy its military overseas. This has sparked concerns at home and among neighbouring countries.
Despite Japan's postwar record of peace, the country's wartime abuse still echo across the region, particularly in South Korea and China.
It is hard to overstate the atrocities committed by the Imperial Japanese Army. From the Bataan Death March and the Rape of Nanjing, to the Japanese army's brothels and the horrifying biological experiments of Japan's Unit 731, millions were illegally subjected to inhuman treatment and died cruel deaths.
Not only are there still people alive who remember these war crimes firsthand – such as elderly PoWs and still-traumatized "comfort women" – but there are legions of nationalists in China, South Korea, Japan and elsewhere who are more than willing to keep the debate going for their own reasons. And these issues are certainly not simply historical; they still have the power to complicate diplomacy, foreign relations and people-to-people interactions: When I was in Seoul in March, the "comfort women" issue was once again front page news.
Previous apologies from Japan have done little to satiate this raw anger. The academic Jennifer Lind, who wrote a book about apologies in international affairs, even argues that official apologies can make things worse. And things are certainly getting more heated now, not just because of the looming anniversary and Japan's polarizing constitutional upheaval, but because of tensions between China and neighbours over the South China Sea and Washington's "pivot" to Asia.
Japan is a major East Asian power, crucial to multilateral negotiations in the region. But its fraught history has prevented Tokyo from co-operating fully with other democracies such as South Korea, something that is ever more important as China rises.
But as Mitsubishi's attempt has shown – and Japan obviously knows already – apologies about these issues are complex. There is language, for example: Does one regret history, apologize for it, or express deep remorse for it? And where, and with whom, do the apologies begin and end?
In Mitsubishi's case, and we should bear in mind that there is nothing legally requiring a Japanese corporation to apologize at all (Mitsubishi is alone in this), being contrite with the Americans is comparatively a simple matter. Apologizing to Koreans or Chinese, who were taken after Japan's occupation of Manchuria and the Korean peninsula, is more complicated – and would certainly have political implications for Mr. Abe.
It is no coincidence that Yukio Okamoto, the Mitsubishi outside director who led the apology, is an adviser to Mr. Abe on historical issues, has assisted previous prime ministers with past apologies and is part of a committee helping Mr. Abe formulate his crucially important Aug. 15 remarks.
If the cycle of apologies seems endless, politicized and rather pointless to onlookers, one must remember that much of Asia has yet to move on from Japan's 20th-century imperialism, and there are still people alive to whom apologies would mean a great deal. Although it is not clear that Mr. Abe – a right-wing nationalist who provokes rage in China and South Korea – is the man to bring the cycle of apologies to a close, particularly as Mitsubishi starts the cycle anew, the faster and more comprehensive these apologies are doled out, the better for everyone. Because Asia, and the rest of the world, desperately want to move on.