King's College London
Liddell Hart Centre for Military Archives

Annual Liddell Hart Centre for Military Archives Lecture

Preparing for Peace and Survival: the Japanese Experience, 1943-6

by Professor Ian Nish

given 4 November 1996

It behoves diplomatic historians like myself to know and respect the writings of a military commentator and teacher like Captain Sir Basil Liddell Hart. In a period in history which has been described by Professor Alex Danchev (all too accurately alas) as 'the Sarajevo century' ¹, a century of war and international crises, he had a seminal influence on military thinking in the manner of Colonel Charles Repington and Major General J F C Fuller.

But it has also been a century of furious change. I am all too conscious that there are many aspects of the 1930s when Liddell Hart had become defence correspondent of The Times and was arguably most influential, with which I cannot identify. I am reminded of the story of Yoshida Shigeru (1878- 1967) when he was ambassador to London in 1936. He welcomed a newly-arrived military attaché, Colonel Tatsumi Eiichi. The latter apologised that he did not play golf – a sport not approved by the Imperial Japanese Army. But he did enjoy riding. Yoshida was delighted, saying that his embassy was full of golfers and that the most useful thing for a diplomat in London was to go out riding in Hyde Park every morning as he did. There you would meet the Chief of the Imperial General Staff and other influential people and exchange views with them. I am not sure that Liddell Hart would have appreciated the idea though he might, I suppose, have applauded it as an aspect of the Coordination of Defence. ²

In the last two years of the Asia-Pacific war decisions were made in Japan by three bodies in ascending order of importance: the Cabinet; an army-civilian council, called the Saiko senso shido kaigi, the Supreme Council for War Guidance; and the Imperial Conference (Gozen kaigi), a council which took place in the presence of the Emperor. While Japan was at war, the main problems were to coordinate Cabinet policy and war strategy and to get the army and navy to work together. This was attempted by the Dai Honei-Seifu Renraku Kaigi, the liaison council between GHQ and government which had taken Japan into the war in 1941 and guided affairs for most of the war period but had not allowed civilians to discuss strategic questions. General Tojo Hideki (1884-1948) who was in power from 1941 to 1944 had combined the posts of prime minister and war minister, and (on an occasional basis) foreign minister, home minister, minister of education and minister of commerce and industry. ³ This may, however, be thought of as carrying Coordination of Defence a little too far. Tojo also assumed charge of the Ministry of Munitions when it was created on 1 November 1943 and he took the additional position of chief of the general staff on 19 February 1944. (This was the first time that the administrative and command posts had been combined in the Japanese army). But, when Tojo was forced to retire in April 1944, his successors found it necessary to set up a new mechanism. The Supreme War Council which was set up included senior representatives from the cabinet, the chiefs of the general staffs of both services and (when required) their deputies.

Within the cabinet, some civilian politicians found it convenient to keep close to the army/navy which had for a decade manipulated the reins of power so that they got their way unless they were in confrontation with each other. But most spent their time trying to out-manoeuvre the armed forces and to limit their powers. Hence the role of the Supreme War Council. In times of tension – and there were many – much depended on the bureaucrats who kept things on an even keel, trying to reach cool, rational decisions in the face of admittedly divided opinions. They had assumed many emergency powers during the decade or so of the war emergency, some derived from German experience.

Most difficult of all to interpret is the power of the court and therefore of the Imperial Conference. It was that body which declared war against the United States and Britain and formally ended it. The Emperor as supreme commander and head of state issued the rescripts which ratified these decisions. He was under much pressure and subject to much manipulation. But there is much evidence pointing to the fact that he had become by 1945 gravely disenchanted with the military. This is hardly surprising since he was surrounded by advisers who had come close to assassination at the hands of the military in 1936. ⁴

I shall divide this lecture into three sections: how the army/navy viewed the situation of the Asia-Pacific war in summer 1945; second how the civilians viewed it; and third how the bureaucrats interpreted the possibilities.

Faltering Rhetoric of Victory

I would contend that the armed forces used the rhetoric of victory until the very last moment. Japan published her official history of the Asia-Pacific war (Senshi sosho) in 102 mighty volumes – I cannot pretend to have read more than a fraction of them. The general impression that I draw from them and the more recent war history series ⁵ is that during what they call the defensive phase of the war in 1945 the armed forces' thinking was that they had suffered gigantic losses at the Philippines, Taiwan, Iwojima and Okinawa but were not publicly in despair. It appears that the top leadership were professionals who probably saw Japan's position as hopeless but, on the other hand, regarded themselves as super-patriots, who could not accept the concept of defeat and were committed to the need to fight to the last man. Loyal to the throne and to the emperor as commander-in-chief, they felt that the armed forces were at the very heart of the Japanese state, the kokutai, and that, if they allowed morale to crack, the state would perish.

They took comfort in the feeling that their losses in the field were brought about because they were conserving their resources for 'the decisive battle for the home islands' (hondo kessen). Japan was reinforcing her defences expecting an American attack on Kyushu (planned for November 1945) or Tokyo (planned for March 1946). They were confident that they were prepared for this attack, however great the opposition. Moreover, to my unprofessional eye they had foreseen the allied strategy and the points of attack fairly accurately.

This optimism comes through in the famous battle order of 20 April 1945 from HQ Imperial Japanese army:

'The object of the homeland defence is to force the enemy into the decisive battle... We shall throw everything conceivable, material and spiritual, into the battle and annihilate the enemy landing force by fierce and bold offensive attacks... Every soldier should fight to the last, believing in final victory.' ⁶

The United States which was able to intercept so much of the Japanese traffic took to heart the message that Japan hoped to inflict savage casualties on the invading force.

Japanese commanders operated a ban on taking 'positive action' against allied planes in the light of the kessen. But, when Japan's cities were being bombed by B-59s in May-June, they did not send up their fighters. They were kept on the ground because of shortage of planes and pilots, fuel and ammunition, all of which were being saved up for the approaching 'decisive battle'. This was in retrospect a callous act and a horrific decision. It meant the withdrawal of protection for Japan's cities and convoys in order to conserve resources for the ultimate invasion which never came. It was, moreover, bad not only for civilian morale but also for morale among the pilots.

It is in this light that one must interpret what I regard as one of the great sources on the atmosphere of the Asia-Pacific war, the Diary of Admiral Ugaki Matome, commander-in-chief of the Fifth Air Force based in southern Kyushu island for six months down to August 1945. He bore the special responsibility for the tokkotai – the kamikaze pilots who undertook suicide missions. He writes in his detailed personal diary in the ambivalent way of the professional sailor and patriot. Ugaki has supreme confidence in the resistance which his units would put up in the event of American invasion. In his diaries he dares the American fleet to sail north from the Okinawa operations, writing repeatedly: 'Come on up north! We'll get you'. ⁷

Despite the tremendous confidence of the high command that they would be able to cope with the imminent invasion and inflict many casualties, the Emperor told the Imperial Conference on 9/10 August that he did not think there had been sufficient preparation for the kessen on the homeland. The commanders were shattered. It had taken an outsider to tell the insiders that they were obsessed with illusions and wishful thinking. ⁸

Two days after the dropping of the atomic bomb on Nagasaki on 9 August, Ugaki wrote that the Soviet decision to join the war had shocked him, since he had been so completely absorbed in preparing for the last stand against the Americans. Again he was optimistic:

'we can take some countermeasures against them. We still have enough fighting spirit remaining, which was saved just because of restrictions. Furthermore don't we have large army forces still intact on the China continent and in our homeland?' ⁹

When rumours reached him that surrender was being discussed, he could hardly bear to see Japan suspending attacks while she still had so much fighting spirit. On a more personal note, he writes that he had long resolved in his own mind

'when and how to die as a samurai, an admiral or a supreme commander. I renewed a resolution today of entrusting my body to the throne and defending the empire until death takes me away.' ¹⁰

As late as the 15th, he still thought that talk of Japan's surrender was enemy propaganda. Eventually Ugaki heard from Tokyo GHQ that surrender had been authorized. This came a day before the emperor's broadcast which was in fact only a confirmation of what the commanders already knew. Before he received the order for a ceasefire, he decided to assemble his kamikaze pilots and asked for five planes to accompany him on a final suicide attack. In fact, instead of the five, the pilots of eleven Suisei dive-bombers volunteered to join him. They set off for Okinawa in the south. In spite of searches, they were never heard of again.

Planning for peace

In the present section I turn from military reactions to those of civilians. I am not sure whether it would be tactful for me to argue before this of all audiences that generals and admirals were obsessed with illusions and only civilians were realistic. But civilians seem to have taken a much less favourable view of Japan's prospects. They were more sensitive to bombing of Japanese cities than the generals and admirals in their bunkers. From 1943 they had been positioning themselves for the end of the war by trying to formulate their war objectives/aims. From the assumption of Shigemitsu Mamoru as foreign minister in April 1943, care was taken to give the impression that Japan was fighting a war for the liberation of Asia. Professor Iriye has argued that Japan was trying to draw up a counterpart to the Atlantic Charter in the declaration which was formulated at the Great East Asia conference on 5 November 1943 ¹¹ (whose 53rd anniversary will be commemorated tomorrow when we shall be celebrating something different). There is one point which is important to note: bombing took place much earlier in the European war, with the raids on Britain and Germany, than in Japan during the Asia-Pacific war. Japan was only coming to terms with the disruptions caused by bombings from the spring of 1945 itself. This was one reason why civilian awareness of possible defeat came very late in the day. Confronted by dislocations and rising inflation, the authorities had to take many emergency measures to cope with the destruction of plant and disruption of transport. They had to set up urgently the Munitions Ministry late in 1943 to supervise the operation of the economy, in effect to 'nationalize' Japanese industry. ¹²

It is in the early months of 1945 that we can first identify the peace movement. It was not a party or a group, but a discrete set of elite individuals including diplomats, aristocrats, journalists, intellectuals and politicians and some retired army and navy officers who talked from time to time of peace. Yoshida was a prominent member. Others included Harada Kumao, Count Kabayama, Kido Koichi, Kiyozawa Kiyoshi, retired generals and admirals. But the most influential figure was Prince Konoe Fumimaro (1891-1945). The issue of peace came to a head when Konoe as an ex-prime minister was invited by the court to offer his views on the war to the Emperor on 14 February just after the Yalta conference. Yoshida helped him in drawing up the memorial of his views which were in favour of peace overtures being made to Britain and America without delay. The very whisper of peace and surrender brought the Thought Police to Yoshida's door (not, it should be observed, to Prince Konoe's) and he was imprisoned in May and interrogated for forty days for (presumably) trying to indoctrinate the Emperor. These peace supporters were an earnest but rather unfocussed body, desperate to get Japan out of her dilemma by trusting to American goodwill over unconditional surrender. Their motives were deeply conservative in the main. One of their root-ideas was to make peace because communism was infiltrating Japanese society and more might appear when soldiers in the field were demobilized. ¹³

Instead, however, the contrary course was adopted by the government of the day, an approach to the Soviet Union. This was the result of a compromise which the government chose to make with the army. One of the army's worries about the decisive battle was to predict the likely attitude of the Soviet Union. Molotov had given notice on 6 April that Soviet Russia would not observe the Neutrality Pact of 1941 for its full term, ie till 1946. The army leaders feared Russian attack not just on Manchuria but also on the Japan Sea coast. In order to prevent Soviet entry into the war, they demanded that the government should actively negotiate with Moscow to secure a long-term treaty, lasting for (say) twenty or thirty years. It was the army analysis that the Soviets were likely to want the Japan-American war to drag on so that both countries would find themselves exhausted, while the Russians would be favourably placed. So both civilians and military thought that Russia should be kept sweet, provided it did not develop into negotiations for peace and certainly not as an avenue for peace feelers to the Allies. Foreign Minister Togo promoted this course and Ambassador Sato Naotake went along with it, despite occasional disagreements.

By July, however, the military situation was so desperate that the 'keep sweet feelers' became genuine 'peace feelers'. As the Foreign Ministry saw it, Japan had no alternative but to use Stalin as a channel to the United States because she refused to accept the demand for unconditional surrender (as laid down at Cairo) and could not in practice negotiate direct with Washington. On 25 July, therefore, Ambassador Sato in Moscow asked Russia's mediation for a peace settlement which would fall short of unconditional surrender. Molotov, about to set off for Potsdam, hedged. ¹⁴

This overture was overtaken by the Potsdam Declaration of 26 July. During the cabinet and Supreme War Council in Tokyo on the following day, the army's insistence on rejecting the Declaration outright was successfully overcome, the foreign minister maintaining that government should make 'no comment' on it. He took the view that the Declaration was in effect the first step in a series of proposals for a 'negotiated peace' which would be backed by the Soviet Union. He therefore still hoped to get Stalin to act as intermediary for a negotiated peace. There was a serious divergence here: the Allies saw the Declaration as an ultimatum which Japan could either take or leave; Japan saw it as the first step in a negotiating process which was insultingly worded. During his press conference on 30 July Prime Minister Admiral Suzuki Kantaro (1868-1948) who was precariously trying to balance military and civilian attitudes announced a response to the Potsdam Declaration of 'mokusatsu', that is, of ignoring it as unworthy of attention. What did this imply? It appears that what he intended to convey to a domestic audience was that this would be the preliminary to negotiating secretly through Moscow and that there was nothing to be said publicly in advance. The Allies when they heard Suzuki's message in whatever garbled form, must have been greatly mystified. The concept of 'mokusatsu', literally 'kill by silence', is one that would baffle a gaggle of philosophers. How it must have been represented by a gaggle of translators in Washington I cannot imagine. But Suzuki was certainly not giving the clearcut acceptance for which the Allies had called. At all events Japan's wishful thinking over using the Soviet Union as mediator ended when Moscow subscribed to the Potsdam Declaration, declared war on Japan on 9 August and began her attacks on Manchuria, Korea and Sakhalin. The quest for peace- making through the Soviet Union was surely as blind as the thinking of Ugaki at the time. ¹⁵

Realising that her dilatory approach had been so damaging, Japan held a series of important conferences on 9 August to discuss what modifications she could get in the Potsdam Declaration. On 10 August Japan through the Domei News Agency broadcast the announcement that she would accept it, provided the Emperor's sovereignty was not questioned. Secretary of State James F. Byrnes replied: the authority of the Emperor and the Japanese Government to rule the state shall be subject to the Supreme Commander, Allied Powers (SCAP) and the ultimate form of government shall be established by the freely expressed will of the Japanese people. Each of these phrases stuck in the gullet of Japan's leaders who by a majority insisted on continuing the war. It required great skill and considerable courage to arrange the final Imperial Conference on 14 August which, after the Emperor had intervened personally, resolved to accept the Allies' reply.

In a sense it had not been 'unconditional surrender' as the allies had insisted at Cairo because Byrnes had 'negotiated' or at least clarified his terms. But the Allies were in no mood for comprehensive talks about these terms and particularly about the sovereignty of the Emperor.

Civilian government continued uninterruptedly even after MacArthur arrived on 30 August, followed by units of the American 8th Army. But there was uncertainty about how they would treat the Japanese government in the early days of the occupation. The Americans had not made up their minds whether there should be a military government run by SCAP or a civilian government run by the Japanese under the broad policy control of SCAP. As the Japanese saw it, they had a valid government still in being and making rational decisions and wanted to have a say in the future reform programme which the Potsdam Declaration had promised. The civilian government was allowed to continue and General MacArthur eventually decided to conduct an indirect occupation working through the existing Japanese governmental structures rather than replacing them. ¹⁶

Planning for Survival

When we speak of peace, we often link peace with prosperity. But Japan did not begin to know prosperity until the 1950s. That did not prevent 'planning for survival', both in the short term and in the long term. In this part of the lecture, I focus on the bureaucrats. They were able to expand the range of their activities in the 1930s when party politicians came under attack from the militarists and in the war years which were a period of extraordinary state intervention in commerce and industry. ¹⁷

In the last year of the war, several groups in Japan began to study postwar problems though they had to work secretly and to avoid the use of the word 'defeat' for fear of being accused of disloyalty by the police and military authorities. Dr Okita Saburo, who was working in the Research Division of the Ministry of Greater East Asia and was later to become foreign minister in 1979-80, relates how he

'in February 1945 wrote a research report entitled "Japan's Dependence on Supplies from Continental Asia"... in which I recommended, on the basis of my assessment, that Allied submarines would cut our supply line from Korea, Manchuria and North China, a drastic change in the items obtained from the Continent... from materials for steel and aluminum production to food grains, soybeans and salt... I had in mind the necessity of feeding people should the war end in defeat.' ¹⁸

Some time around June 1945 Okita persuaded his superior, Sugihara Arata, that there was an urgent need to think about the postwar reconstruction of the economy. In government circles at the time, it was not possible to form a committee expressly to study the postwar economy based on the premise of Japan's defeat. Hence, on the pretext that submarine attacks by Allied Powers had blockaded the Korean Strait and that commodities from Asia could no longer reach Japan, a 'Research Group for the Self-Sufficiency of the Japanese Mainland' was formed. Its first meeting was held on 16 August, the day following Japan's surrender. This offered the economic bureaucrats who had maintained remarkably cool heads throughout the crisis a great opportunity. ¹⁹ When the war ended, the Ministry of Greater East Asia which had handled foreign relations with Asian countries was disbanded on 25 August and the economists' group (which was later given the more realistic title of Special Study Committee on Postwar Economic Rehabilitation) passed under the Foreign Ministry to which Okita had moved. This brought the Study Group under the supervision and protection of Yoshida Shigeru who became foreign minister on 17 September and later prime minister in 1946-7. Yoshida always endearingly admitted that he knew next to nothing about economics; but he was shrewd enough to see that economic reconstruction was the first priority of the new Japan. He allowed the foreign minister's residence to be used for their meetings and treated them as a sort of brains trust, whether their members were Marxist or right-wing economists. ²⁰

The committee was wide-ranging, including officials, economists, engineers, specialists in industry, agriculture and business and journalists. Committee meetings were held once a week. In September a research subcommittee was set up with the aim of 'making a study of basic economic policy for the future'. These deliberations resulted in a draft with the title 'Means of reconstructing the Japanese economy' dated 27 December 1945. The committee met more than forty times before it produced its report, first the interim report entitled 'Measures for the Reconstruction of the Japanese Economy' (printed January 1946) and later 'Basic Problems for the Economic Rehabilitation' in March 1946. ²¹

Their analysis was based on an estimate that the Japanese population would be 82 million by 1950. SCAP thought this an over-estimate and predicted 80 million. The actual figure ultimately turned out to be 83.2 million. 'This would necessitate', the Report argued, 'industrial production on the scale of 1934-5 and imports and exports on the scale of 1936.' For the future agriculture, fisheries and the mining industries were limited by natural conditions, and it was unlikely that they could contribute to large increases in employment. The only way to absorb a large unemployed population would be through the regeneration of industry.

The experts saw the maintenance of a large engineering and heavy machinery sector as the key element in the reconstruction of the Japanese economy, arguing that

'Japan has developed technology capable one way or another of filling the need for machinery of all kinds throughout all stages of a war economy. It has had the experience of manufacturing for itself high-grade machine tools, ball bearings, optical appliances, ultrashortwave communications apparatus, and modern machinery of various other kinds. Further, under the pressure of actual necessity, the nation trained a great number of technicians, draftees, and other heavy-industry.' ²²

The Report wanted Japan to build on this wartime expertise. It further hoped that it would be possible for Japan to participate in the industrialization of China and other neighbouring countries through the export of heavy machinery. In other words, they expected to reopen Sino-Japanese trade which had been the mainstay of Japan's commerce before the war.

Because of the so-called unconditional surrender, the Japanese were not entirely their own masters. Watanabe Takeshi in his book writes of 'SCAP and its samurai', in which he included those New Dealers around MacArthur who had special ideas about how Japan's economy should be handled. ²³ They were mainly concerned with issues such as food supplies, reparations, land reform, encouragement of labour union activities, the dissolution of the zaibatsu and generally the curbing of industries which might lead to further militarization. These objectives were to some extent at cross purposes with those of economic recovery as the Japanese conceived it. ²⁴

The specialists' report was translated into English and presented to MacArthur's headquarters. The SCAP response on 3 May 1946 was that the emphasis on heavy machinery 'would run counter to the policy of demilitarization of Japan and should not be allowed.' In any case occupation policies did not constitute 'a serious impediment to the development and maintenance of reasonably high levels of industrial activity, employment and foreign trade balance' and Japan ought to be able to recover prewar levels of production based on the textiles industry. In short, SCAP's view of the economy in the early occupation period was more optimistic than that of the Japanese experts. In later comments SCAP experts observed that 'future Japanese industry would be centered on the textiles industry, in particular cotton goods... and even if Japan tried to export basic commodities, such as steel and fertilizer, it would be impossible, because America would probably provide assistance' to countries such as China.

In another discordant note between Japan and MacArthur's headquarters, the SCAP advisers pointed out that, while the Report spoke the language of economic liberalism, it argued from a statist point of view. They conceded that 'State regulation was inevitable in the short term as an emergency measure', but thought that 'the idea of state control was a Russian style interpretation of democracy and posed the threat of reversion [in Japan] to a totalitarian state.' ²⁵

The Japanese study group, doubtless chastened by these fundamental criticisms, prepared a revised version of its report which was published by the Foreign Ministry in September. I do not propose to say anything about this final report. Historians are, I know, perverse creatures; and I admit that it is perverse not to analyse it. But the final version was 'laundered' to bring it in line with American thinking. To me it is the earlier, more prickly, exchange of views which is more interesting, throwing light as it does on Japan's aspirations and revealing how ambitious and far-sighted these junior policy- makers were even in those days of deprivation. In its various versions it was a very distinguished state paper.

Shortly after the first Yoshida cabinet came into being, a new organization called the Economic Stabilization Board (Keizai Antei Hombu) was created on 12 August 1946 to implement some of these ideas. In addition Yoshida established on 5 November an economics brains trust sometimes known as the Coal committee, under the chairmanship of Professor Arisawa Hiromi (1896-1988), a left- wing economist, who had been forced to resign his post as professor of economics at Tokyo Imperial University in 1938 because of anti-war activities. ²⁶

This body invented 'priority production' (keisha seisan hoshiki). In order to stimulate industrial production, Japan adopted a Priority Production Programme which involved the injection of capital into the coal-mining industry in order to restore coal production. Since she was not likely to be able to import fuel from abroad in the foreseeable future, coal was the only medium available for restoring the steel and heavy industries where there was a considerable reserve of technical knowledge and human skill. The increased coal supplies (almost 30 million tons in 1947) greatly facilitated resumption of production of other basic goods such as fertilizers and cement, and also aided improvement of railways. ²⁷

These activities of the bureaucrats did not offer an overnight cure for Japan's survival. Indeed the economy was in such a mess with high levels of labour militancy that government was preoccupied for the rest of the 1940s with emergency measures to cope with a series of crises. Nonetheless the Report had an effect on government policy. It was a blueprint in which the economists and intellectuals of the day recommended measures for reconstructing an economy devastated by war. It was important because of the influential role which many of its authors were to play in future years. The Report was one of the instruments which set the course of postwar economic reconstruction and laid the foundations for Japan's second Industrial Revolution.

The Report also had its impact on Japanese government and society. It advocated a strictly bureaucratically controlled economy. To SCAP and to the economists a control regime was readily accepted in the late 1940s. The bureaucracy was strengthened because the Americans needed the officials to reestablish economic stability. In the postwar period there was something of a void in politics where the MacArthur purge of those in high places who had been actively involved in the war effort removed many party leaders. In the realm of commerce and industry, too, the prewar entrepreneurship was lost for a while. This void was partially filled by the bureaucracy who managed through the Ministry of Finance, the Ministry of International Trade and Industry and the Economic Planning Agency to create the special Japanese form of capitalism that developed in the postwar years, combining free enterprise with governmental control imposed at key points in the economy. ²⁸

One theme of Japan's postwar history has been the story of economic controls whose liberalization and deregulation in the face of repeated criticisms from the Americans have been undertaken slowly and (it has to be said) painfully. The problem has been that the control environment became too comfortable and could not be thrown off easily. Indeed it remains a live issue today and has been one of the themes of the general election of October 1996.

The forecasts of the experts proved to be remarkably accurate. Japan returned to specialization in textile production but it proved to be ill-suited to postwar markets and was short-lived. The focus moved in the late 1950s to the production of metal, engineering and chemical goods, concentrating on the production of ships, machinery and motor vehicles. But one of the premises underlying the Report was not fulfilled through no fault of the Japanese: Japan took three decades to return to the China market in a major way because of the Cold War and the American embargo. ²⁹

In conclusion, I should like to draw the three threads in my lecture together: the fierce patriotism of the last year of the war which led to an equally fierce determination to succeed in the peace both individually and nationally; the fact that opinion was divided during the war and that there were in the wings those from the Anglo-American persuasion who were prepared to assume the reins of office under the occupation and to trust where distrust had prevailed before; and the plans in which the bureaucrats were perceptive enough to look beyond the current adversity and plan for the future. It is common to speak rather glibly about postwar Japan as the Phoenix rising from the ashes in a sort of mystical and impersonal way. But it was men who raised Japan from the ashes; and I have tried today to portray some of those who gave her peace, survival – and ultimately prosperity.

Endnotes

Thanks for assistance with this paper must go to the Leverhulme Foundation for the Emeritus Fellowship which I was awarded and to the Suntory and Toyota International Centres for Economics and Related Disciplines, London School of Economics. Personal thanks are due to Dr Gordon Daniels, Professor David Dilks, Professor Ronald Dore, Dr Janet Hunter, Professors Hatano Sumio and Ishii Osamu, and Mr Namiki Masayoshi who assisted with materials.

• ¹ Alex Danchev (ed.), Fin de Siecle, London: Tauris, 1995, p. xii
• ² Inoki Masamichi, Hyoden Yoshida Shigeru, 4 vols, Tokyo: Yomiuri, 1981, vol. 3, pp. 17-19. On Yoshida generally, Yoshida Shigeru, The Yoshida Memoirs, The Story of Japan in Crisis, London: Heinemann, 1961; Kosaka Masataka, Saisho Yoshida Shigeru, Tokyo: Chuo Koron, 1968; J.W. Dower, Empire and Aftermath, Harvard: University Press, 1979
• ³ Nihon gaikoshi jiten, Tokyo: Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 1979
• ⁴ Stephen Large, Emperor Hirohito and Showa Japan, London: Routledge, 1992. For a more critical view, Yamada Akira, 'Emperor Showa as Supreme Commander' in Bulletin du Comite internationale d'histoire de la Deuxieme Guerre Mondiale (1995), pp. 107-14
• ⁵ Boeicho, Senshi sosho, Tokyo: Asagumo, 1975; Okumura Fusao (ed.), Kindai Nihon sensoshi, 4 vols, Tokyo: Dodai Keizai Konwakai, 1994, esp. vol. 4
• ⁶ T.B. Allen and N. Polmar, Codename Downfall, London: Headline, 1995, chs 10-11
• ⁷ Chihaya Masataka (trans.), Fading Victory: the Diary of Admiral Matome Ugaki, 1941-5, Pittsburg: University Press, 1991, pp. 623 and 626 (3 June 1945)
• ⁸ R.J.C. Butow, Japan's Decision to Surrender, Stanford: University Press, 1954, pp. 175-6
• ⁹ Ugaki, p. 659 (11 August 1945)
• ¹⁰ Ugaki, p. 659 (11 August 1945)
• ¹¹ Iriye Akira, Power and Culture: The Japanese-American War, 1941-5, Harvard: University Press, 1981, pp. 119-21
• ¹² T.A. Bisson, Zaibatsu Dissolution in Japan, California: University Press, 1954, pp. 177 and 187
• ¹³ Inoki, Yoshida, vol. 3, p. 204ff; Yoshida, Memoirs, pp. 24-8. Other forces for peace are described in Doshisha Daigaku Jimbun kagaku kenkyujo (ed.), Senjika teiko no kenkyu, 2 vols., Kyoto: Shinsoban, 1978 and Koketsu Atsushi, Nihon kaigun no shusen kosaku, Tokyo: Chuo Koronsha, 1996
• ¹⁴ Iriye, p. 257ff
• ¹⁵ Iriye, pp. 261-5; Butow, pp. 142-9. On errors arising from mistranslation, see Komatsu Keiichiro, Origins of the Pacific War and the Importance of MAGIC, Folkestone: Japan Library, forthcoming
• ¹⁶ Shusen shiroku, 7 vols., Tokyo: Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 1978, vol. 6, pp. 6-8 and 28-31
• ¹⁷ Chalmers Johnson, MITI and the Japanese Miracle, Stanford: University Press, 1982, pp. 40-1; Dower, Yoshida, pp. 61-2
• ¹⁸ Okita Saburo, Japan in the World Economy, Tokyo: Japan Foundation, 1975, p. 1
• ¹⁹ Omori Tokuko in Okita Saburo (compiler), Postwar Reconstruction of the Japanese Economy, Tokyo: University Press, 1992, p. xv. [hereafter cited as 'Reconstruction'] Nihon keizai saiken no kihon mondai, reprinted by Tokyo: University Press, 1990 as vol. 1 of 'Shiryo: sengo Nihon no keizai seisaku koso'
• ²⁰ Richard B. Finn, Winners in Peace: MacArthur, Yoshida and Postwar Japan, California: University Press, 1992, pp. 39-40; Inoki, Yoshida, vol. 3, pp. 257-8; Tsuru Shigeto, Japan's Capitalism: Creative Defeat and Beyond, Cambridge: University Press, 1993, ch. 1
• ²¹ Omori in Okita, Reconstruction, pp. xvii-xxi
• ²² Okita, Reconstruction, p.72
• ²³ Takeshi Watanabe, Senryoka no Nihon zaisei oboegaki, Tokyo: Nikkei, 1966, p. 17.
• ²⁴ Yoshida, Memoirs, p. 40, is mildly critical of SCAP: 'These reforms undertaken with the express object of speeding the democratization of the country, did not always seem to fit the actual facts'. On land reform, see E.E. Ward, Land Reform in Japan, 1946-50, Tokyo: Nobunkyo, 1990 and R.P. Dore, Land Reform in Japan, Oxford: University Press, 1959
• ²⁵ Omori in Okita, Reconstruction, pp. xix-xx
• ²⁶ Johnson, MITI, p. 181; Inoki, Yoshida, vol. 4, p. 159
• ²⁷ Okita, Japan in the World Economy, pp. 3-5
• ²⁸ Johnson, MITI, p. 75
• ²⁹ Ian Nish in Andrew Graham (ed.), Government and Economies in the Postwar World, 1945-85, London: Routledge, 1990, pp. 259-61