What to Make of Yasukuni Shrine?

We had only three days in Tokyo, so figuring out how to utilize our limited time in the world’s largest metropolis wasn't easy. After visiting the Meiji Shrine and major commercial centers like Shibuya and Shinjuku, I was looking to explore a few less touristy spots in the capital. On our final day in town, we had just a few hours in the morning before we had to board the train to Kanazawa. The curiosity inside me drew me to the Yasukuni Shrine (靖國神社), perhaps the most controversial place in Tokyo, if not the whole of Japan. I felt obligated to explain the controversy surrounding the shrine to Brian and Joe beforehand, ensuring they were comfortable with visiting.

If you are not from East Asia, the change is that you haven’t ever heard of Yasukuni Shrine. This shrine was constructed on the order of Emperor Meiji in 1869 to commemorate those who died in service of Japan. Initially, the shrine was intended primarily for those who died in defense of the imperial court against the Tokugawa shogunate in the Boshin War. Over time, the scope of the enshrinement includes service members who died in foreign wars. It is the Japanese national martyrs' shrine and a sacred ground for many veterans of the Japanese armed forces.

The history of the Japanese armed forces is controversial because of Japan’s colonial expansions in the 20th century. At its zenith, the Empire of Japan spans from Papa New Guinea to the south and Russia’s Sakhalin Island to the north. Much of the territory was conquered by military brute forces. For about two decades, they committed countless atrocities. As a person of Chinese descent, I grew up learning about detailed accounts of Japanese war crimes in China. One of the most notorious incidents occurred in Nanjing, the capital of the Republic of China, at the end of 1937. In six weeks, the Japanese troops massacred about a quarter of the unarmed civilians, including many women and children.

An ad for Yasukuni Shrine at the platform of Kudanshita Station.

Despite photographic evidence and first-hand accounts from local Westerners and Japanese soldiers, many Japanese today still refuse to acknowledge the atrocity, let alone issue an official atrocity. These war crimes are purposefully left out or glided over in Japanese textbooks. To countries that suffered under Japanese rule, the Yasakuni Shrine is regarded as a temple to colonial exploitation. Even though Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution explicitly denounced militarism, the rest of East Asia questions whether Japan truly comes to terms with its transgression.

The steel torii gate is 85 feet tall and is said to be one of the tallest in Japan.

Located just across the moat from the Imperial Palace, Yasukuni Shrine looks no different from a typical Shinto shrine. The inner shrine is at the end of a long avenue, with massive torii gates denoting separations between this world and the divine. The first torii gate is 85 feet tall and is said to be one of the tallest torii gates in the country. The gate we see today was constructed of corrosive-resistant steel in 1974. It replaced an earlier gate made of bronze. According to popular legend, the bronze gate was torn down in the final stretch of the war to salvage the metal for artillery.

On the right of the gate is a stone pillar bearing the name of Yasakuni Shrine. Having heard about Yasukuni Shrine all my life, I felt a little naughty being here. Just two weeks after our visit, a minor Chinese internet celebrity defaced and urinated on this sign on a live stream. Officially, he was “protesting” against the discharge of contaminated water at Fukushima. For many Chinese, the Yasukuni Shrine is the most famous place to air their grievance against Japan, no matter whether it is related to Japanese militarism or not.

Statue of Omura Masujiro, the “father of the Japanese Army.”

On the left side of the avenue is an eye-catching contemporary statue cantilevered forward. Entitled Soul-Comforting Spring, the sculpture was donated by a service club in 1967 to commemorate the centennial of the Meiji Restoration. The memorial commemorates soldiers who passed away on foreign soil and “begged for water from their mother.” The design is an abstract representation of a mother pouring water for her dying soldier. It was a lovely piece of artwork set at a deeply troubling place.

At the center of the causeway is a towering Statue of Omura Masujiro. He was an important military commander under the Emperor Meiji. A brilliant military, Ōmura was tasked to build a modern military force modeled after the Western military. He introduced not only Western technology but also the modern command structure. Even though he was assassinated by rivals at the age of 45, his vision was carried out by his followers. Among his achievements were the establishment of military academies and universal conscription in 1873. His contribution earned him the title of “the father of the Japanese Army.”

The Second Shrine Gate was built in 1887 and is allegedly the biggest bronze *torii* gate in Japan.

When he passed away in 1869, his followers commissioned a statue of him and placed it at the entrance to Yasukuni Shrine. This is supposed to be the first Western-style statue in the country. The pedestal is decorated with texts by Prince Sanjo Sanetomi praising Ōmura for his contribution. The statue became one of the top landmarks in Tokyo upon its unveiling. One must wonder what Ōmura would think of the Japanese war-time atrocities six decades later. Furthermore, would he ever approve of today's Pacificist constitution?

After the purification ritual at Otemizusha, we entered the shrine’s main gate. Constructed of enormous cypress trees, the gate is in the shinmei-zukuri style, one of Japan's most ancient architectural methods. The gate’s massive wood doors are decorated with stylized chrysanthemums, symbolizing the Japanese imperial family and the national coat of arms. In Shinotism, the emperor of Japan also serves as the head priest, with the sole right to perform many of the most sacred ceremonies. Naturally, the imperial family was the main benefactor of Yasukuni Shrine historically. However, the last imperial was Emperor Hirohito in 1978.

Despite being across the street from the imperial palace, the imperial visit has become a political taboo. In October 1978, Yasakuni Shrine’s administration decided to enshrine fourteen individuals who were convicted of Class A War crimes by the International Military Tribunal for the Far East and more than a thousand accused of lesser war crimes. According to all the available records, the imperial household was not consulted with the enshrinement of these war criminals. In Shintoism, once the names were entered into the shrine’s Book of Souls, there was no mechanism to remove them from the theological point of view.

There are 2.5 million military personnel enshrined here; it is fair to say the enshrinement of about a thousand war criminals tainted the shrine in perpetuity. While the emperor ceased the annual visitation, various high-level politicians still came to pay respect to the service members. Whenever a cabinet minister or prime minister visited the shrine, there would be mass protests in China in front of Japanese diplomatic missions or at Japanese-owned businesses. The number of visits by high-ranking officials often serves as a bellwether of the state of Japan’s relationship with Korea and China.

Partly due to the foreign backlashes, Yasukuni Shrine inadvertently became a sacred spot for Japan’s small but caustic ultra-nationalist right-wing organizations. On August 15th, the anniversary of Japan’s surrender in World War II, right-wing groups and veteran groups will gather here. Predictably, there are always plenty of left-wing groups protesting the enshrinement. Yasukuni Shrine has become a place of heated political rhetoric and occasional violence. In a country known for civility and conformity, this shrine is a hot potato in Japan’s political discourse.

Upon entering the inner courtyard, I was surprised to see that it looked the same as any other Shinto shrine. There is a pavilion selling omamori (御守/お守り) and a rack for ema wooden votive plates. Public worship takes place outdoors before the front step of the main structure. None of the souls enshrined here were buried here. Instead, their name was only recorded in the official Book of Souls. Surprisingly, there is little to “see” at the marine shrine. The only unusual feature would be the increased security; there were both security guards and sharply dressed male Shinto attendants in white.

Despite the political controversy surrounding Yasukuni Shrine, the scene is very serene. I could see how Brian and Joe felt this place was not as sinister as I portrayed it. I could see for casual foreign visitors that this is just another neat Shino shrine. Rather than seeing streams of angry right-wing activists, most worshippers we encountered seemed representative of the Japanese public. They cut across different age groups and genders; I was very tempted to ask them about their political leaning and what they thought of Japan’s wartime atrocities. I imagine they are not all different from the majority of Confederate reenactors in the United States. People seem willing to glance over all the unspeakable evils to pay tribute to their forefathers.

Yushukan War Museum (遊就館) could be considered the most controversial venue at Yasukuni Shrine.

For ethnic Chinese and Koreans, the most controversial part of the entire complex is the nearby Yushukan War Museum (遊就館). Just steps away to the right of the main shrine, this is perhaps the most well-known war and military museum in Japan. As the museum is run by the shrine’s administration, it certainly showcases a particularly rosy view of Japanese war history. Unlike the shrine, there is a ¥1,000 admission to the museum. I was conflicted about contributing to the shrine financially. In the end, my curiosity won out. Like my decision to visit the Creation Museum in Kentucky, I decided it was more important to understand other’s viewpoints, however twisted they may be.

Inside the entrance foyer is a Mitsubishi A6M Zero combat aircraft. This aircraft was Japan’s main workforce in Japan’s Pacific War and is most infamous for its role in the attacks on Pearl Harbor. I could understand why the Japanese take national pride in this aircraft. The Air Force later modified these aircraft and turned them into kamikaze aircraft. As an American, I could understand the terrors this equipment must have among the American service members. Unsurprisingly, Peal Harbor or kamikaze was not mentioned on the plaque.

Mitsubishi A6M Zero was the primary aircraft of the Pacific War.

Exhibited in the same hall is a well-preserved C56 31 Locomotive, which served on the infamous Siam–Burma Railway. For anyone who knows modern military history, the construction of the Siam-Burma Railways is a notorious chapter of the history of Southeast Asia. Also known as the Death Railway, this line was built with the unpaid labor of the local population and prisoners of war of Allied forces. It is estimated that more than 12,000 POWs died building this railroad, in addition to thousands of local Burmese. Many Japanese commanders supervising the construction were later sentenced to death for war crimes due to brutality against the workers. Sure enough, the museum conveniently leaves these details out.

The C56 31 locomotive of the Burma Railway.

Perhaps the museum prohibits photography in its permanent exhibitions to minimize the backlash from the controversial exhibit. However, some exhibits were also outrageous, so I could not help but sneak in some pictures with my cell phone. I knew it was “wrong” to disobey the rules, but the museum’s revisionist narratives must be more publicized. The exhibition began with the long history of samurai spirits and framed the modern Japanese armed forces as continuing that tradition. The Meiji Restoration further solidified the undying loyalty to the Japanese Emperor. This unquestioning loyalty partly brought so much destruction to Asia in the 20th century.

The exhibits largely follow Japan's military history in chronological order. From the Portuguese arrival to the forced openings by American admiral Matthew Perry, Japan's early modern history seems to be framed as a nation under siege. At the same time, the foreign powers also prompted Japan to institute much-needed reforms with rapid modernization in institution building and military modernization. In many ways, Japan later became a victim of its success. The effectiveness of the Japanese military-industrial complex enabled the expansionist foreign policy.

As an island nation with limited resources, Japan used colonial expansion to fuel industrialization and modernization. This insatiable need for natural resources brought Japan into conflicts with almost every neighbor. At first glance, these exhibits often have the technical details of historical events correct but assign the causes of Japanese actions to the fault of its enemy. The museum framed all military aggression on Japan’s part as only a “reluctant” and reactionary measure. The overarching message was that Japan only used its military force to “bring peace and prosperity to all Asian people.”

As Americans, we were, of course, keen to see the museum’s perspective on the attacks on Pearl Harbor. Rather than framing it as an unprovoked attack on the Pacific Fleet, the exhibits framed it as a gamble of last resort and the fault of America’s policy of containment and blockade. While the embargo and America’s hostility toward Japan at the time were certainly accurate, the museum conveniently left out the fact there was a concerted effort on Japan’s part to disguise the planned ambush through diplomatic negotiations with Washington. While many Americans often did not know about the economic blockade, most American museums offered a far more nuanced and balanced narrative than the Yushukan War Museum.

Yokosuka D4Y was another aircraft type used for *kamikaze* operations.

Since I learned quite a bit about the Sino-Japanese Wars in school, I took particular interest in seeing how the museum interprets these events. I was impressed by how detailed the exhibit was regarding the tactical aspects of specific battles. Unlike Pearl Harbor, China and Korea did not pose an existential threat to Japan's economic development. The exhibit did not provide much justification for the invasion. Ironically, the implied explanation seemed to bring peace and stability to East Asia. On the infamous massacre in Nanjing, the museum proclaims the residents of Nanjing were able to “enjoy the peace brought forward by the Japanese liberation.” That was such a stunning whitewashing that it left me speechless.

The museum also praised various puppet governments set up by Japan, particularly the short-lived Manchukuo in Japan-occupied Manchuria. It praised the puppet government headed by the last Emperor of China as a model for a new Asia. The museum celebrates how Manchukuo modeled itself following Japan’s successful footsteps. Meanwhile, the forced labor and ethnic cleansing that took place in Manchukuo are conveniently overlooked. But the most egregious plaques were at the end of the permanent exhibit. They caught my attention because of all the national flags of East Asia. The “Postwar Independence Movement” section proclaims that Japan’s triumph over the Russian Empire is a source of tremendous inspiration for independent movements all over Asia:

“Japan’s victory in the Russo-Japanese War inspired other oppressed people, particularly Asian people, to dream of achieving independence. Many future leaders of independence movements visited Japan as a model of independence and modernization. Not until Japan won a stunning history in the early stages of the Greater East Asia War did the idea of independence enter the realm of reality. Once the desire for independence had been kindled under Japanese occupation, it did not fade away, even though Japan was ultimately defeated.”

— Yushukan War Museum

It was particularly ironic that the museum dares to take credit for the hard-fought independence of Singapore, Palau, Malaysia, the Philippines, and Brunei. All these were colonized and suffered tremendously by the Empire of Japan. The narrative may comfort many Japanese but feels like rubbing salt in an open wound. This is probably the reason why they don’t allow photography inside. As I watched Western tourists going through the exhibit, I couldn’t help thinking about whether they registered just how screwed up the narratives are here. Allegedly, the exhibit was even more stridently nationalistic. They had to tone it down at the urging of the American government.

During our visit, there was a special exhibit on Hei-Shoku (兵食) and meals for service members. After the controversial content of the permanent exhibit, this was a much-welcome relief. Given Japan’s strive for perfection, catering for the Japanese military seemed much better than most of our daily meals. One of my favorite Japanese dishes growing up was curry. Curry was first introduced into the country by the British. It turned out the curry was popularized by the Imperial Japanese Navy. By some accounts, it is the most popular meal in normal Japanese households, and the “navy curry” is the most popular curry variety in the country.

*Shinsen* (神饌) are offerings of foods given up to Shinto shrines

Outside the museum building are numerous statues commemorating a wide range of individuals who contributed to the Japanese armed forces. The commemoration is not limited to service members but also horses, mothers, and canines. However, one memorial stood out: a stone memorial plaque for Indian jurist Radha Binod Pal. Pal was a judge serving on the United Nations' International Law Commission from 1952 to 1966 and was appointed to be one of the judges on the tribunal for war crimes committed by the Japanese during the war. Why would he be memorialized in Yasukuni Shrine?

Pal was the only judge who found all the accused not guilty. He questioned the tribunal's legitimacy. To him, it is fundamentally wrong for the victors to pass judgment on the defeated; the trial could be regarded as an “opportunity for the victors to retaliate.” While he agreed that Japan committed extraordinary atrocities during the war, it seemed “unfair” that no court would pass judgment on the United States for using the ultimate weapons of mass destruction on Japan. He further argued that the United States indirectly coerced Japan into war. In other words, his legal jurisprudence perfectly aligns with the Yushukan War Museum's perspective.

Setting politics aside, there were plenty of places for peace and tranquility. There are two tea houses and a sumo ring. We particularly enjoyed the small but beautifully restored garden. I could understand why many locals would come here for their daily stroll. On the ground are also a few gift shops selling military-themed souvenirs. There is also a cafeteria and two independently operated cafes within the shrine complex. The atmosphere was convivial, and it was easy to forget all the political controversy. However, there are still hints of militarism on the cafe menu. You could get a bowl of navy curry or scrambled egg rice from Tome Torihama, nicknamed the "Mother of Kamikaze Pilots”!

A visit to Yasukuni Shrine could be emotionally and psychologically exhausting. Strolling the nearby Tokyo Imperial Palace was a great way to decompress. Since Emperor Meiji moved the imperial court from Kyoto to Edo in 1868, this enormous complex has been the symbolic center of Japan. At its peak, the palace encompassed a massive area beyond its current boundary. Unfortunately, not much of the Edo and Meiji-era palaces was left except for the moats and stone ramparts. The vast majority of the palace was burned to the ground during the American air raid on Toyko.

The Imperial Palace East Gardens (皇居東御苑).

Unlike their European counterparts, Japan's imperial family tended to be more insular from the outside world. Traditionally, they seldom ventured beyond the confines of the palace or addressed the public. When Emperor Hirohito announced the surrender on national radio in 1945, that was the first time that common Japanese had heard the voice of any Japanese emperor and the first radio address by any emperor. For over two millennia, the Japanese regarded the emperor as not a symbol of divine monarchy but a literal deity. At the urging of Americans in 1946, Emperor Hirohito renounced the emperor’s divinity. Known as the Humanity Declaration, it was a seismic shift in the role of the imperial family in Japan’s psyche.

The Peach Blossom Music Hall (桃華楽堂) commemorated the 60th birthday of Empress Kōjun.

Emperor Hirohito’s complicity in Japan’s war crimes has always been a hotly contested subject among historians. After the war, Hirohito continued to make annual visits to Yasukuni Shrine until the enshrinement of Class A war criminals. His personal opinion about the war remains a mystery. The destruction of the palace and Tokyo must have profoundly impacted the imperial family. It should not be surprising that Hirohito’s successors, Emperor Akihito and Emperor Naruhito, stayed away from Yasukuni Shrine and are champions of Japan’s Pacifism.

With the rise of China and a belligerent North Korea, today’s Japan once again wrestles with its Pacifist identity. Under Shinzo Abe's premiership, the Japanese government proposes modifying the U.S.-drafted constitution. The proposal would allow the military to acquire offensive capability and upgrade the emperor as the head of state rather than a “symbol of the state.” The proposed constitutional change stirred up a lot of fear and reminded many of the horrors of wars. In many ways, the controversy around Yasukuni Shrines is now more relevant than ever.

As we exited the palace from the Ōte-mon Gate, the highrises of the central business district were almost like an edifice of the new and prosperous Japan. It seems a world away from the darkness hanging over the Yasukuni Shrine. For me, pairing the visit to Yasukuni Shrine and the Imperial Palace are some of the most thought-provoking experiences in Tokyo. Although many would squirm at visiting a place like Yasukuni Shrine, it shines a necessary spotlight on the peril of historical revisionism.

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