193: The Empire of the Rising Sun: Military Imperialism in Japan (1853–1941)

Have you ever felt like you were living just a B or B plus life? It's so dangerous to live that more dangerous than a B minus or a C plus life because when you're living a B or B plus life, you don't change it. You think it's good enough. Is it? I'm Susie Welch. I host a podcast called Becoming You. People think, okay, an A plus life is not available to me, but there is a way. We are all in the process of becoming ourselves. Welcome to Becoming You, wherever you get your podcasts. It's July 4th, 1853. We're in the Pacific Ocean, more than 5,000 miles west of the California coast, just south of Japan and right now, four U.S. Navy vessels, two steam frigates, USS Mississippi and USS Guihana, as well as two old school, masted slups of war, USS Saratoga and USS Plymouth are joyously saluting their distant home nation by firing cannons. And of course they are. Today marks 77 years of American independence. But while each crack of the canisters patriotic pride on board these four ships, we can only imagine how they might sound to Japan's isolationist leaders who want nothing to do with foreigners. Tell you what. Let's leave these sailors to their celebrations while I fill you in on the situation. Here's the deal. Japan is a deeply feudal and isolationist society run by a shogunate. What does that mean? Well, the feudal system, which in this case consists of a revered figurehead emperor, a shogun doing the real ruling, lordly dymios, samurai warriors, and land-working peasants, has been around for at least seven centuries. As for Japan's isolation, this is deeply ingrained as well. Just a few decades after the Tokugawa family seized the shogunate in 1603, this new ruling family came to see European missionaries and Christianity as threats. That led to the decision to cut Japan off from the outside world. This policy, Sakoku, has now held for more than two centuries. Since then, Japan's contact with foreigners has been limited to two nations, China and the Netherlands. The Dutch, confined to an artificial island called Dejima in Nagasaki Bay, are Japan's only European link. Once a year, a single Dutch ship brings books, instruments, and news of the wider world. That's it. And that's largely how it's been for more than 200 years. But the world's gotten smaller since then, and across the Pacific, a new power the United States is eager to make contact. Specifically, US President Millard Fillmore has four goals with Japan. One, to ensure the island nation treats shipwrecked American sailors humanely. Two, to let US vessels take on provisions in Japanese ports. Three, to secure a cooling station for America's increasingly steam-powered navy there. And four, to open up trade. These are the terms that this four-ship squadrons commander, Commodore Matthew C. Perry, will propose to the Japanese. But Matthew isn't the first Westerner to try to break through Japan's isolationism. He isn't even the first American. Commodore James Biddle failed less than a decade ago. So can this stern, rugged Matthew Perry, one that, let's just say, would not make a good comic relief in a group of friends, succeed where others failed? Well, his squadron is fast approaching at Obey. Let's find out. It's now a few days later, early morning, July 8th. The people of Edo, or Tokyo, as you and I will later know it, are stunned and horrified by what they see at the entrance to their bay. Four enormous, towering ships. But it's more than their size. These vessels are unlike anything they've ever seen. Their holes are painted black, while two belch-thick black smoke. A sight utterly unknown to a non-industrialized, isolated society. Days pass. The Japanese try to get the Americans to leave. But as they fail, negotiations proceed. Though stuck communicating through interpreters, and largely in the Dutch language, the Commodore's forceful insistence is not lost on the Japanese. He is here to deliver President Millard Fillmore's letter, and will not leave until he delivers it to the Emperor himself, or to a representative whose rank is at least equal to his own as a presidential messenger. Caught between centuries of isolation and the undeniable power of these foreign vessels, the Japanese are intimidated. Slowly but surely, they concede. Despite their laws forbidding foreigners from coming ashore here, they will receive the Commodore. It's now 10 in the morning, July 14, 1853. With the two steamships providing cover, a flotilla of 15 boats carries some 250 to 300 Americans ashore. About 100 sailors, 100 Marines, 40 officers, and 40 musicians. Every man bears a sword, pistol, and musket. And nearly every firearm is loaded, just in case. Once on shore, the Americans advance with martial fanfare. The military bands play, while Major Zeiland leads, his sword drawn, followed by Marines and sailors, marching smartly with their glistening rifles and gleaming bayonets. Yes, this is theater as much as it is diplomacy. The Commodore is projecting power and industrialized military might unlike anything the deeply isolationist Japanese people have ever seen. The Americans advance past the equally distrusting Japanese show of force. 5,000 men on shore and armed boats floating nearby in the waters. Reaching the hut, the Commodore pushes past the blue and white curtains and steps inside. Before him and his entourage are two worthy representatives of the Emperor, Tota, Prince of Itzu, and Idu, Prince of Iwame. With great ceremony, the Americans present two boxes containing copies and translations of President Millard Fillmore's letter, calling for the island nation to dramatically change its isolationist ways and accept American sailors, vessels, and trade. The letters are received with only the fewest of spoken words. Cutting through the austere silence, the Commodore says that he will leave for China in two or three days and will take any letters provided. Moreover, he will give the Japanese government one year to consider the President's letter, then return for their response. Even still, the Japanese say nothing. So Matthew again cuts through the silence. He mentions a revolution in China. The Japanese respond, It will be better not to talk about revolutions at this time. Yeah, that's a rough topic for the Japanese to hear about under the current forced circumstances. In translator Samuel Wells-Williams will later note, I thought it very malapropo to bring in such a topic. A few days later, July 17th, great crowds gathered and watched as the American steamers towed the sluice of war out of Edo Bay. The four black ships soon disappear over the horizon. Japanese leaders ungodly breathe a sigh of relief, but are simultaneously filled with dread. In one year, their uninvited, gruff American visitor, Commodore Matthew Perry, will return seeking an answer. And regardless of how they respond, one thing is already certain. Japan has been exposed to the world. And there's no going back. Welcome to History That Doesn't Suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and I'd like to tell you a story. Commodore Matthew Perry doesn't wait a full year. He returns seven months later, and this time with an even larger fleet. The Shogun feels there's little choosing to be done. On March 31st, 1854, the Treaty of Kanagawa is signed. Two ports are opened, American sailors gain protection, and a U.S. consulate is established. More contact will follow, as more than two centuries of Japanese isolation come crashing down, reshaping Japan's world. And as a result, reshaping the whole world. In previous episodes over the past few months, we've seen Italy, Germany, and Russia all dramatically reinvent themselves in the buildup to World War Two. Today, we do the same with the story of Japan as we follow its complete overhaul from cutoff island nation to global power in the matter of decades. We'll slow down as we come out of World War One, though, and take in several key events leading us to the next global throwdown. Specifically, we'll bear witness as Japan uses a false flag tactic in Muckden in 1931 as a pretense for invading Manchuria up in northern China. We'll hear about the start of World War Two in Asia in 1937 at the Marco Polo Bridge, and only months later, we'll face the horrors that follow in Nanjing. Finally, we'll end by setting up the next episode's story. A story that, to borrow a phrase, lives in infamy. So ready to witness Japan's 88 year transformation from the isolated feudal society known by the Commodore into a juggernaut empire on the brink of waking a sleeping giant? Excellent. Then let's set a return course for the shores of this land of the rising sun with an imperial lineage of more than a thousand years and pick up where we left off with the impact of Commodore Matthew Perry's visit in the 1850s. Ready? Well then, way anchor lads. To call US Navy Commodore Matthew Perry's 1853 landing at Kuri Hama in Edo Bay and the 1854 Treaty of Kanagawa that followed a big deal for Japan is to make what just might be the understatement of the century. With this agreement to open Japan's shores to American ships and soon to the rest of the world, Japan begins to unravel more than 200 years of isolation and ultimately a feudal order that's been in place since 1185. Yeah, 669 years. Come to think of it, I suppose I understated even in calling this the understatement of the century. Make that the understatement of seven centuries. OK, point taken. But how does the United States come to play this pivotal role? Well, it really comes down to two things. First, the world is shrinking as King William II of the Netherlands wrote to the Tokugawa Shogun in 1844, quote, the intercourse between the different nations of the earth is increasing with great rapidity and irresistible power is drawing them together. Close quote. Too true, William, but I'll add that we can define that irresistible power. Industrialization. Nations that aren't industrialized like Japan have little recourse to keeping steam-powered industrial nations like the United States at bay or rather out of Edo Bay, as the case may be. Second is that Commodore Matthew Perry enjoyed the lucky accident of good timing. Well, good timing for him. The Tokugawa Shogunate was politically strained and vulnerable when his black ships arrived. Two centuries without foreign threats had made Japan soft. The samurai have become more bureaucrats and scholars than warriors. And knowing all too well how China's defiance played out in the Opium Wars, the young, ailing Shogun Tokugawa Iesada doesn't dare oppose the industrial might of the United States. Terrified, he accepts that Japan must open to the US and from there to the world. But the ramifications are far more swift, severe and internal than the Shogun ever could have anticipated. In the 1860s, discontented samurai band together against the Tokugawa Shogunate. See, from their perspective, the Shogun didn't just accept reality. He dishonored Japan and its emperor by capitulating to foreigners. Using the rally cry, Sono Jou-ui, meaning revere the emperor expelled the barbarians, they topple Tokugawa rule by 1868. Emperor Mutsuhito is now the highest authority in Japan. He moves the capital from Kyoto to Edo, which he renames Tokyo or Eastern capital. The mustachioed emperor's new era is called Meiji, meaning enlightened rule. This is the Meiji Restoration, a moment that transforms Japan's politics, society and place in the world forever. And yet, despite the rebrand, the emperor remains largely a figurehead. It's the former samurai, Nalan Oligarkic elite, who hold the real power. They have a simple, audacious plan. Dismantle the old feudal government, nullify the unequal treaties that the Tokugawa signed and beat the West at its own game by transforming Japan into a modern industrial power. The first big changes are cosmetic. Under the slogan, Bume Kaika, or Civilization and Enlightenment, Japan reinvents itself. The emperor and empress go from posing in kimonos and samurai swords to donning a Western military uniform and a Victorian gown, signaling to their people and to the world that Japan is ready to step onto the global stage. And yet this isn't just a makeover. It's a full-on reinvention. The old Daimeo lords, gone, replaced with prefectures that answer to the central government. The rigid social orders that kept people in their lanes for centuries shredded. The law now says all citizens are equal, even if impracticed habits die hard. Japan calls in the French for legal advice, the Brits for industrial know-how, and the Americans for farming and schooling. Schools pop up, railroads crawl across the land, factories belch smoke, and suddenly a country that once hid behind walls is straining to catch the industrial world. Japan's military gets a makeover, too. Inspired by Germany's autofam Bismarck, Yamagata Aritomo, builds a modern imperial Japanese army conscripting all able-bodied men. Long-standing samurai are slowly phased out, leading to the 1877 Satsuma Rebellion, an uprising of samurai opposed to the new order. Yamagata's conscripts crush the uprising quickly, cementing the Meiji government's control. And yes, if you've seen the last samurai, that's the story it's based on. Well, sort of. The movie is inspired by this conflict, but aside from the title and some broad strokes, historical accuracy takes a backseat. With rebellions successfully squashed, the Meiji government turns to the next priority. Actually, governing. To this end, the new Meiji constitution is ratified in 1890. Sure, it shows Western influence, liberalization, parliaments, and the like, but it's modeled on imperial Germany's Prussia specifically. Why Prussia? Because unlike Republic in France or the United States, Prussia keeps the monarch front and center, and the Japanese oligarchs aren't about to hand power over to the people. Notably, the constitution defines the emperor as, quote, the head of the empire, combining in himself the rights of sovereignty and exercises them, close quote. In practice, the oligarchs still run the show. They just let the emperor shine as the symbolic authority. The constitution also says that the emperor, quote, is sacred and inviolable, close quote. Hmm. Sacred as in divine. Inviolable, which is to say he doesn't, aren't in fact, can't make errors. Keep these elements in mind. They will have implications in our story long after this episode. But for now, let's just note that while all power is centered in the emperor, he's advised by other bodies that as wielders of power can take the blame for mistakes. These include the emperor's advising cabinet, the Prussian inspired elected legislature, known as the diet, and the military. In short, we have a new social setup, a new education system, as well as a new legal system, constitution, conscription based military and industrialization. Yes, Japan of the Meiji era is, well, a new Japan. And frankly, it's dreaming big. Japan's oligarchs want empire. Here's the deal. As Japan sits at the cusp of the 20th century, the head of its imperial military, Yamagata Aritomo, believes that weak neighbors make weak borders. So it's best to conquer weak neighbors. To quote historian Michael Barnhart, Yamagata's logic would be at the center of Japan's foreign relations, considering weaker neighbors subjects for control, lest other strong empires control them instead and use their locations and resources against Japan. Neighboring and militarily weak Korea is easy pickens, but there's one minor, or rather 450 million person and therefore kind of major problem. Yes, China, which despite its own struggles with the West, is nonetheless competition for this peninsula kingdom sandwiched between these two mightier powers. Thus, the celestial empire becomes Japan's first target. On August 1st, 1894, the first Sino-Japanese war begins. And less than a year later, it's over. With this decisive Japanese victory, the island nation has proven the completeness of its makeover, from isolationist backwater to modernized military powerhouse in just 40 years. And this is just the start. In Bolden, Japan sets its sights on its other major local rival for empire, Russia. The Russo-Japanese war breaks out in February 1904, and by September 1905, Japan has again claimed a decisive victory. Not just over a regional power, mind you, but over a European power. The West is stunned. By the way, you might remember this war from episode 116, as US President Theodore Roosevelt helps negotiate the Treaty of Portsmouth. It lands him the Nobel Peace Prize shortly thereafter. Gobbling up Korea in the next little bit, Japan's desire to showcase its strength and bolster its defenses leads the island nation to invoke its recent alliance with Britain, and side with the Allies in the Great War of 1914. Japan batters the Germans in the east, laying siege to the German ports in China's Shandong Province, and seizing German colonial territories across the Pacific, including the Marshall Islands. Now having proven itself as a modern nation, and having shown its military prowess against the great industrial power of Germany, Japanese leaders can't help but feel they're on equal footing with the Western Great Powers. And that's why, as the war ends and the world descends upon Paris for the 1919 peace talks, the Japanese delegation is utterly shocked when the United States idealistic, professorial President Woodrow Wilson maneuvers to remove their proposed racial equality clause from the League of Nations Covenant. Revisit episode 147 if you're fogging on that tail. Japan keeps the German colonies it seized during the war, but the message from Europe and the US is clear. It doesn't matter how much you do or how you do it, you're not one of us. Entering the post-war 1920s, or as we in the 21st century will call it, the interwar years, Japan is facing the same unfortunate twist as Italy. Despite being on the winning side of the Great War, its economy takes a hit. And if that weren't enough, other nature deals Japan a brutal hand. In 1923, a devastating earthquake levels Tokyo, between the quake, a 40-foot high tsunami, and fast-spreading fires, more than 110,000 people are killed and 1.5 million are left homeless. In the words of relief worker Haruno Kiiichi, the destruction, quote, surpassed imagination, close quote. Ironically, just like there soon to be German allies, Japan is facing perpetual financial crisis and constantly changing leaders due to warring party politics. In 1923, there's even an assassination attempt on the wiry, dark-haired, and spectacled crown prince, Hirohito. By the time he ascends as emperor in 1926, the government has already cycled through four prime ministers. Yet, despite the ministerial instability, his reign begins what is called the Showa period, aka enlightened harmony. In the meantime, foreign relations aren't much better. Both the Washington and London naval conferences, in 1921 and 1930 respectively, place strict limits on Japan's naval and military capabilities, leaving it at a disadvantage compared to Western powers. Looking across the Sea of Japan toward mainland Asia, the land of the rising sun grows increasingly wary of Joseph Stalin's Soviet Union to the north and the chaos of civil war torn China. Oh, and then the Great Depression hits Japan in 1930, making everything even more complicated. As nearly everything hits rock bottom, many Japanese point their fingers at Westernization for the country's governmental and financial struggles. Radicals on both the left and the right call for a return to Japan's glorious past by purging weak politicians and ineffectual businessmen. Ah, but the Imperial Army offers an answer as well. It claims that all of Japan's problems can be solved by seizing the strategically vital and economically rich territory just above the Korean Peninsula in northeast China, an area known as Manchuria. They just need a reason to invade. It's the evening of September 18th, 1931. We're in a Japanese restaurant in Mokden, Manchuria, where General Tatekawa Yoshitsugu is downing drinks with his host, a likewise shorn and bald headed officer, but one with a killer mustache, Colonel Itegaki Seiishiro. While the two laugh and chat, General Tatekawa may or may not be faking just how drunk he is. Kind of odd to see a superior feigning inebriation for a subordinate, isn't it? Tell you what, let me explain the situation while these two go for a couple more rounds. After the Russo-Japanese War ended in 1905, Japan stationed soldiers in Manchuria. Well, the soldiers there right now are anxious about the burgeoning Soviet Union making nice with China's nationalist faction under the leadership of Chiang Kai-shek, which, let's note, is the faction that currently comes closest to leading the deeply divided so-called Republic of China. We're so nervous, in fact, that two Japanese officers stationed here, Ishihara Kanji, and our drinking Colonel Itegaki Seiishiro, think it would be best if their smaller forces struck first. And to that end, they've drawn up a plan for how to do it. They want to start a war with China through what Ishihara calls a quote, fabrication of an occasion through intrigue, close quote. The plan is to blow up railroad tracks and blame it on the Chinese. Ah, but just four days back, word of this plot found its way to Tokyo. Emperor Hirohito wasn't too happy to hear about such not-approved plots coming from inside his army. So, his advisors promised to tighten things up. That's why General Tatekawa is at this restaurant tonight. He's here in Manchuria to tell these intriguing officers of Japan's Manchuria-based Imperial Army, or the Kwain Tong Army, as this specific force is now known, to cool things down and back off. And yet, the plot thickens. Supposedly, our local officers, Ishihara and Itegaki, don't know what message the General has for them. But even if they have a sneaking suspicion, until that message is relayed clearly, plans can go forward, right? Well, that's their logic. So, Colonel Itegaki is sent to keep General Tatekawa busy, which he's doing with drinks. Meanwhile, the supposedly drunk General says he's too tired from the day's journey to have a proper conversation this evening. Wait, so is that true? Or is the General in on the plot as well? Sources conflict, but whatever General Tatekawa's knowledge or intents are, he's dealt with, meaning that the fabrication of an occasion through intrigue is on. Okay, now that you have the background, let's get to the action. And I'm not talking about the drinks. It's now about 1020 that same night, September 18, 1931, guided by Lieutenant Suemore Kawemoto, a troop of about seven Japanese soldiers, quickly rushes through grass in the flat clanes beside the railroad tracks, just outside the city of Liaochoku. The lieutenant carries with him 42 square and yellow packs of blasting powder. Without the moon, the upcoming Mokden Express can be heard in the distance, but barely seen by the aid of the troops' dim torchlight. Heading to the pre-picked railroad tracks, Suemore uncovers the explosives, hurrying to help his men pack the yellow squares around the rails. Then, he lights the fuse. Running for cover, the gang dives flat on the ground and covers their ears as the enormous blast fills and illuminates the formerly dark, quiet night. The Mokden Express is fast approaching. Once it derails, the Kuangtung Army will blame this active sabotage on the nearby garrison of Chinese soldiers, and the war will begin. But then, then the train just passes over the blown up tracks like nothing happened. Turns out the explosives didn't do the job. The tracks are fine. But, no matter, there's no changing horses midstream. The supposedly retaliatory attack must go forward all the same, and by morning, the Manchurian invasion has begun. Hey everyone, it's Professor Jackson. A quick update about the Caribbean crews we're planning May 18th through the 22nd. I'm excited to announce that my friend, Dr. Ben Sawyer, host of the Road to Now podcast, will be joining us as a special guest. It just adds to all the great history-centric activities we're planning while sailing from Fort Lauderdale to Key West and the Bahamas aboard the beautiful Celebrity Reflection. If you haven't heard, I've been working on a book for two years and I wanted to do something different. Something special to celebrate its publication. We're not only going to have the Ultimate Book Club meeting, where each guest will get an advanced signed copy of the book. I'm also going to give a special private performance of my live show. Ben and I will record a live podcast. We'll host a fun history trivia night contest where you can compete and test your knowledge with us. There will be nightly group dining, where you can meet other history aficionados, plus the usual excitement and relaxation that Celebrity Cruises is known for. We only have a limited number of cabins left, and right now we're offering $100 off per cabin when you use the code HTDS to check out. Go to HTDSCruise.com and use the code HTDS for $100 off. Hope to have you aboard this spring for the history cruise that doesn't suck. There's no stopping the Japanese army in 1931. Even as Japan's political administration reels in shock at the military's seizure of power, the Japanese people want the invasion to continue. After all, it proves their nation's strength and power to the world. And don't look to the League of Nations for much. It calls on Japan to immediately withdraw from Manchuria, sure, but this goes about as well as its later attempt to stop Italy in Ethiopia. As you may recall from episode 183, it's an absolute failure. 1932 proves no better. In Japan's elections that year, the Seiyu Kai, an opposition party, takes the majority in the legislature. It essentially endorses the army's invasion of Manchuria. And following months, Chinese nationalist leader, Shung Kai-shek, is forced to retreat and all of Manchuria is seized. Internationally, the League of Nations continues to sit on its hands. Meanwhile, US Secretary of State, Henry Stimson, warns that the Disarmament treaties agreed to in the Washington and London naval conferences won't limit America's response to Japanese aggression. In other words, if Japan is going to go to war, America reserves the right to expand its navy. Don't count on treaties to stop them. With power firmly in military hands, newly appointed Prime Minister Inukai Suyoshi can only offer a compromise to end the invasion of Shanghai and stay in the League of Nations. He also installs a puppet government in Manchuria called Manchukuo. It satisfies no one. Relations with the West have never been worse. And Inukai's refusal to fully bow to the army leads to his assassination by naval officers on May 15, 1932. Newly appointed PM Saito Makoto steps into this murderous void, but he's far too conciliatory for the military's liking. Not a problem. The army installs one of their own, Uchida Yasuya, as the foreign minister. Uchida walks all over the PM, making it clear that, one, Manchukuo answers to Japan, and two, Japan has no intention of abiding by the naval conference treaties. Yikes. Sounds like international pressure means little. And more confirmation of that comes swiftly. After a toothless investigation by the League of Nations calls for a restoration of Chinese sovereignty in Manchuria, Japan simply exits the League of Nations in February 1933. Further, Japan's new leaders, the Imperial Army, officially announce that they'll no longer abide the naval conference treaties, essentially meaning that they'll have complete jurisdiction over all of East Asia. In brief, the Imperial Army's vision is a return to the nation-building goals of the Meiji restoration. But if the Meiji went awry because it cooperated with the West, this time around, things will be different because political parties and privatized, capitalistic corporations are out and the army is in. It'll ensure a centralized government and economy with one single goal. Japanese Empire. Now, we know that Japan believes in conquering weak neighbors, but why keep taking more territory? Why Empire? Historian John Dower offers an explanation in War Without Mercy, Race and Power in the Pacific War. He suggests that the Japanese involvement in the Pacific conflict is motivated by the country's desire to wage a, quote-unquote, holy war against races they deem lesser. To quote him, Japanese leaders and ideologues constantly affirmed their unique purity as a race and culture and turned the war itself into an active individual and collective purification. In explaining their destiny as the leading race, the Japanese also fell back upon theories of proper place, which had long been used to legitimize inequitable relationships within Japan itself. According to Dower, it's a form of manifest destiny. In the Japanese mind, they are destined to and chosen by their God, the human manifestation of which lies in the Emperor, to undertake this holy war and occupy the Pacific. Of course, Japan's Empire building isn't all ideology. We also have to contend with the most classic reason empires are built, resources. Indeed, Japan isn't only shoring up its borders and indulging its sense of superiority, but wanting to exploit Manchuria for its iron, coal and soybeans. Now, that said, Japan relies on imports for a lot of its wartime materials, such as steel, rubber and oil. And a lot of that comes from the United States. Hmm. Let's not make too much of that just now. But given that Japan's presence in Manchuria is already souring the relationship between the two nations, we'll want to keep that import relationship in the back of our minds. Meanwhile, there's another nation that's a real fan of 1930s Japan's work. So much so that it's ready to make things official. Nazi Germany. Ah, Japan has high hopes for this alliance. See, Germany, like Japan, does not care for Joseph Stalin's communist regime in the USSR. Likewise, Imperial Japan knows that the Nazi regime, which has its own imperial ambitions, takes no issue with the Japanese army being in Manchuria. It won't care about any further Japanese expansion in China or elsewhere in Asia. Moreover, the two countries share similar ideas about racial purity, even if they disagree about which race is the master race. So while an alliance with Germany doesn't solve Japan's potential resource problem, it's popular with the people that helps navigate the USSR and leaves Japan free to continue the war in China. A September 1936 meeting between Japan and Germany yields the anti-conator impact, promising the two countries will share whatever information they have about the Soviet Union's agency for working to spread international communism. It's not much, but it does open communication between the two powers. But that same year, 1936, Japan faces a renewed threat in China. The Chinese Communist Party and nationalist forces of the Republic of China are so done with the Japanese that they're hitting pause on their own civil war to form a united front under Republic leader Chiang Kai-shek. That's right, rather than fighting each other, the Chinese factions are teaming up on Japan. Neither country wants to make the first move, but with the Japanese attack at Muckton six years ago, looming over Chiang Kai-shek's leadership, it's bound to get ugly again. China won't retreat. Japan won't back down. It's a powder keg just waiting to blow. It's about 10.30 on a moonless night, July 7, 1937. We're with the Japanese garrison just southwest of Peking or Beijing to use the city's modern name. Right along the Yongting River, where captain Shimitsu Setsuro's battalion is practicing their standard maneuvers. Soldiers are here to protect a crucial railroad junction and bonus, it got a gorgeous view of a historic, nearly 900 foot long stone-built bridge. Its namesake is none other than the centuries past Venetian Explorative Asia, Marco Polo. In fact, the discoverer himself is alleged to have called the centuries old crossing, quote, the most magnificent object in the world, close quote. Suddenly, the quiet is torn away as bullets zip through the hot night's air. No one is hit, but the Japanese soldiers turn their guns toward the zinging sands and return fire. With nothing following those first few volleys, captain Shimitsu commands the troops into a roll call. Oh no, Private Shimura Kikujiro is missing. Is he dead? Captured? Shimitsu sends a report to his command, and they waste no time sending troops to respond to the attack. They have to figure out what's happened to the private, and the first place to look is just across the bridge, in the walled city of Huanping. Eight trucks filled with Japanese soldiers pull up to the gates at the north end of Marco Polo Bridge. This marks the entrance to Huanping. Inside the gates, the local peasant population has taken refuge. Chinese commander Song Zhongyuan shouts to the Japanese men outside the gate that they can't enter. The Japanese demand they either retrieve the private or let them inside the city to find him. Tensions build, and after several hours, it's just too much. The Chinese troops open fire. If only they knew. If only Captain Shimitsu had reported that Private Shimura was found 20 minutes after the first shots were fired. Legend has it, he'd gone to take a leak. Whatever his reason, blood has been spilled, and there's no going back. No one knows exactly who fired at the Japanese soldiers that July evening, but it doesn't really matter. This Marco Polo Bridge incident, or Lugo Bridge incident, to use the local name, quickly spirals into a full blown conflict. The second Sino-Japanese War. As I mentioned in episode 188, some consider this moment the start of World War II. By this narrative, Adolf Hitler's later invasion of Poland on September 1, 1939, is the start of the European theater in the already two-year-old war. Japan's military leaders assure their government that victory will come quickly, just as in years past. But China is back with a vengeance. While the Japanese expect fighting to stay pretty centralized in Northern China, Shunkai Shek throws them off by attacking Shanghai. Japanese planes answer by bombing both military and civilian targets in the coastal city. Some of these attacks are captured in photos, like HS Wong's Bloody Saturday, which is the gut-wrenching image of a Chinese baby burned all over, crying and alone, in the wreckage of what was a railway station. Millions upon millions of Americans see this, and are horrified. Invoking a 1922 treaty guaranteeing Chinese territorial integrity, Western powers side with China. They hold a meeting in Brussels, to discuss the situation. While the Western nations talk about Japan, just as they are talking and trying to appease Adolf Hitler, the Japanese invasion of China is turning uglier. Frankly, it's bringing out the worst in humanity. It's the evening of December 17, 1937, at Jinyin College in Nanjing, China, where the dark-haired 51-year-old lifelong teacher and missionary from Illinois, Will Hamina Votrain, or MINI, as everyone knows her, has to abandon her dinner once again to defend the refugees under her protection. Two Japanese soldiers are yanking at the doors of Jinyin's large Pagoda-style central building, demanding entry. As dean of studies at this Christian college, MINI has been sheltering more than 4,000 Chinese people, mostly women, seeking refuge from Japanese soldiers. As MINI approaches the duo, she knows they're here under the pretense of finding Chinese soldiers that are supposedly hiding in the building, since it's inside the safety zone. Soldiers turn to address the dean and her colleague from China's Bureau of Foreign Affairs, Arthur Li. Soldiers here, enemy of Japan. MINI responds directly, no Chinese soldiers. Arthur backs her up on this. The soldiers don't take it well. One steps forward and slaps MINI across the face, while the other beats Arthur to the ground. Okay, time out. Why have these Japanese soldiers escalated to violence so quickly, especially against a female foreigner? Allow me to explain. Fighting in the Sino-Japanese War since August has been brutal. The Chinese lost Shanghai after an intense battle at the start of November. After that, the Japanese advanced on Nanjing, the capital of the Republic of China. Under artillery and air raids, the wild city fell by December 9, 1937, trapping hundreds of thousands of soldiers and civilians within. That's when people like MINI became so important. She and other foreigners inside the city have set up an official neutral zone, the Nanjing Safety Zone. Led by a German businessman who, a kid you not, is a Nazi party member, John Robby, this oddball group of foreigners and the International Committee are completely overwhelmed as they try to protect an estimated 250,000 Chinese looking for safety in the neutral zone. Life outside the safety zone is horrific. The five to six hundred thousand civilians and soldiers who didn't get out of the city now face executions, beatings, and beheadings, not to mention women and girls are subject to widespread rape and murder. Meanwhile, John Robby has invited Chinese soldiers to give up their weapons and come to the safety zone, which in turn leads the Japanese to enter looking to snatch up these soldiers. All too often, they grab innocent men and women. Hence, MINI's situation. This is why she's being confronted by these Japanese soldiers who are so quick to discount her word that there are no Chinese soldiers among her refugees in the college. And with that background, let's get back to the story. The Japanese soldiers force MINI to the college's front gate, which lies on the edge of the safety zone. Once there, more soldiers stand guard over a large group of Chinese civilians kneeling beside the road. MINI knows many of these men and women. She has to go through and identify each person in the group of kneeling, helpless refugees. Suddenly, screams tear through the air. They're coming from the side gate. It's in that moment, MINI realizes she's been tricked. The soldiers kept her busy while they found women inside the college. Held at gunpoint, MINI can do nothing as a dozen women are taken and driven away into the city. As she writes that night in her diary, never shall I forget that scene. The people kneeling at the side of the road, the dried leaves rattling, the moaning of the wind, the cry of the women being let out. The actions of the Japanese army in Nanjing as 1937 fades into 1938 are nothing short of horrific. And how do they justify this? Perhaps this quote from Japanese army staff officer Tanaka Raiukichi can help. Quote, To be perfectly frank, the way you and I look at the Chinese are fundamentally different. You seem to think of them as human, but I see them as pigs. Close quote. Yeah, that is pretty frank and brutal. And it supports what historian John Gower said about racism fueling Japanese expansionism. MINI VATRING and the International Committee save untold thousands, but by the time a government is established in the city of Nanjing, tens of thousands are dead, maybe hundreds of thousands. The exact number is disputed, but some estimates go as high as 300,000. Hence, this wartime atrocity is often known as the Nanjing massacre or the rape of Nanjing. Nazi businessman John Rave is recalled to Germany for the first time in 30 years. He pleads with the regime to save lives by interceding with Japan, but the Gestapo forces him into silence. Nanjing will never forget his efforts in humanity, though. After World War Two, as he lives in a bombed out Berlin apartment, the people of Nanjing will be so distraught to learn of his poverty that they'll support him until his death in 1950. MINI, however, has a sadder story. Consumed by the demons of these months of terror, shall take her own life on May 14, 1941. Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. While Japan remains callous about the untold Chinese dead, it does worry about three deaths in Nanjing. Hitting the US gunboat Panay amid these attacks, the Japanese aircraft kills three sailors. Japan falls over itself, apologizing for these American deaths. But that's not going to soothe the United States now years of concern over Japan's bellicose posturing. As 1938 begins, the question of what to do about Japan becomes part of British and American war preparation discussions. And to make matters worse for Japan's imperial ambitions, the Soviet Union starts sending military aid to the Chinese. Japan might have beaten China in 1895 and Russia in 1905, but they're not anxious to try and fight both at once. Military leaders in Tokyo would really like to make that 1936 anti-comitur impact with Germany, which we'll note now includes Italy as well, into something more substantial. They want an agreement that the Nazis will defend the island empire against Soviet aggression. A second meeting takes place in 1938, but Adolf Hitler's government wants assurances that Japan will fight Great Britain and France if needed. And of course it does. As we know from past episodes, the Third Reich is teetering on the brink of war amid this year's annexation of Austria and the Sudetenland. But Japan isn't quite ready to sign a deal like that. While the Imperial Army is staring down increasingly aggressive Soviet and Soviet backed armies, the Imperial Navy warns that a fight with Great Britain means a fight with the Americans. High-ranking Navy man Yamamoto Isoroku argues that Japan can't win that fight. In a blistering cabinet debate on January 19, 1939, they only agree to support Germany in a fight against the Soviets. Already terrified of Adolf's insatiable greed, these conversations scare Western powers. Harnessing that fear, Japan tries to push Britain into a treaty by blockading the Brits from their own port in Tiansin, which, as Yamamoto predicted, angers the Americans. In July 1939, the U.S. sends notice that it is ending its 1911 commercial treaty with Japan, ending the island empire's most favored nation status. This will take effect in six months. Around that same time, Japan suffers a major loss to the Soviets on their Manchurian border. To make matters worse, word arrives that the Nazi Soviet non-aggression pact, the one we heard about in episode 186, is signed. With the German invasion of Poland on September 1, 1939 and the subsequent war declarations against Germany by Britain and France, Japan feels totally blindsided by their supposed ally. Desperate for war materials like oil and steel, which can only be procured through imports from Great Britain, France, the Netherlands, or the United States, or by taking those countries' colonial holdings in the Pacific, like French Indochina and the U.S. controlled Philippines, Japan's path forward is cloudy. Foreign Minister Matsuoka Yosuke argues to his prime minister and military leaders that the time has come for Japan to make a choice, the Axis or the Allies. Either team up with Germany in pursuit of their goal of empire, or make peace by yielding recently acquired Asia-Mainland territory and returning to 1913's pre-Great War borders. For a nation that feels they have a directive from the gods to bring nearby territories under the control of their race, the decision is easy. On September 22, 1940, Japan moves on French Indochina. In taking the French colonies northern reaches, Japan can now blockade supplies intended for China while also thinking more about fulfilling its resource needs by taking territories to the south. It's a particularly attractive play since that crushing defeat at the hands of the Soviets has convinced the brass in Tokyo not to try their luck expanding north. And only days later, on September 27, Japan signs the tripartite pact, officially allied with Nazi Germany and fascist Italy. Japan signs a neutrality pact with the Soviets. But Stalin doesn't move any troops away from the border at Manchuria, and relations with the US are growing steadily worse. Secretary of State Cordell Hull sends a proposal for a deal between Tokyo and Washington, which basically calls for the evacuation of the mainland and French Indochina. Reading over these Hull's principles, as they're called, Japanese military leaders suspect, as we learned in episode 189, that the Americans are not so stealthily preparing for the possibility of a two front war. On June 22, 1941, Germany invades the Soviet Union. A decision must be made about which fronts to panel fight on. Do they join Germany and attack the Soviets in northern China? Do they spread to Southeast Asia? While Germany and the army favor a northern campaign, the Imperial Navy wants to move fast to take territory in the Pacific. A sort of ocean blitzkrieg, if you will. See, right now, Japan has more warships than the US, but they know that the American naval construction program will have their ships outnumbered within a year. So the argument that Japan should strike while they still have the advantage holds weight. But then, as we know from episode 189, Japan's continued expansion in the Pacific in 1941, leads the United States to turn to economic pressure all the way up. After already placing export controls on the sale of aviation fuel and metal to Japan, after the island empire's formal alliance with Germany and Italy, and move on northern French Indochina, FDR goes full throttle when Japan sends troops into the French colony south in July 1941. The United States places a full asset freeze on Japan, as well as an embargo on oil. This is a huge hit. The US supplies the vast majority of Japan's oil, and only gets worse for Japan as the British and the Dutch follow suit. In total, this adds up to 90% of the island empire's oil supply disappearing all but instantaneously. And remember, without oil, the modern industrialized imperial Japanese war machine can't run. The Americans are hoping this will force Japan to back down. Will it? Or will the cornered empire, sure of its superiority and destiny to rule, fight back? Emperor Hirohito still wants to pursue diplomacy. May September 6, 1941, conference with the PM and his military leaders, the emperor breaks the traditional royal silence of these meetings to share his worry about a war with allied powers. He concludes with a poem written by his grandfather, the Meiji Emperor, quote, all the seas in every quarter are his brothers to one another. Why then do the winds and waves of strife rage so turbulent throughout the world? Hearing the royal concerns, the imperial cabinet promises to stress a peaceful resolution, giving their diplomats just about a month until October 10 to try and make a deal with the Americans. The deadline comes and goes, but the newly placed Prime Minister, the former head of the imperial army, Tojo Hideki, is under orders from Emperor Hirohito to not give up on diplomacy. Not just yet. As a last ditch effort, Japan prepares proposals A and B for peace with the U.S. The options are given to Secretary of State Cordell Hull. Japan's favorite is proposal A, which says they'll vacate everything except northern China. No dice. Cordell rejects it. Proposal B offers a promise to stop all advances south in China in exchange for lifting economic sanctions against Japan. That's also rejected. And this is when the cornered empire, running its military on an oil deficit, decides its time for secret option C, war. Led by Tojo and Yamamoto, the imperial forces begin making plans. But they'll need the final go-ahead from the Emperor Hirohito. It's 2.05 p.m. December 1, 1941. Prime Minister Tojo Hideki, along with government and military officials, are making their way into the imperial palace. Wearing suits and military uniforms, the group steps inside the imperial headquarters, an elegant room with lavishly decorated walls and sparkling chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. Each man takes his place, standing behind two long tables covered in ornate silk cloth. At the front of the room is a gold screen that frames the throne and deus where the emperor will sit. Then he enters in a military uniform, a thin, dark-haired emperor with a wispy mustache and ponsnade glasses walks to the front of the room with his chief aid to camp. Once Hirohito is seated, so too is the rest of this gozen kaiji or imperial conference. While everyone sits practically at a right angle with hands on their knees, the thin hair yet thickly mustachioed and bespectacled Prime Minister Tojo stands and bows to the emperor. Then he speaks. The government used every means at its disposal to improve diplomatic relations with the United States. Under the circumstances, our government has no alternative but to begin war against the United States, Great Britain and the Netherlands, in order to resolve the present crisis and assure survival. After an intense discussion, the PM once again stands, bows, and tells the emperor, at the moment our empire stands at the threshold of glory or oblivion. We tremble with fear in the presence of his majesty. Once his majesty reaches a decision to commence hostilities, we will all strive to repay our obligations to him. Resolve that the nation united will go on to victory and set his majesty's mind at ease. This time, the emperor doesn't break tradition. He never says a word. The meeting ends with one thing, a crisp nod. The planned hostilities will go forward. It's clear that many converging narratives have brought Japan to this position in December 1941. A militaristic government that holds the belief that security can be found through empire. The desire to wage holy war, to quote unquote purify their sphere of influence, and a desire to be seen as a great empire under the rising sun. We've certainly come a long way from Commodore Matthew Perry's landing more than 88 years ago. By December 6, 1941, U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt sensed his war as coming. But even he doesn't know just how close it is. Unbeknownst to Washington, Japanese plans have been quietly set in motion for days. The day after the imperial conference, December 2, Admiral Yamamoto Isoroku sends a coded radio message from the Japanese battleship Nagato just off the coast of Hiroshima. The message is Climb Mount Nitaka 1208. It's the order to launch their planned surprise attack on December 8, Japanese time. But across the Pacific's international deadline, it will be Sunday morning, December 7, 1941. A day that will live in infamy. It's early morning, about 7.30 a.m., December 7, 1941. 39-year-old Japanese mission commander Fuchida Mitsuo sits in his Nakajima B5-2 torpedo bomber, leading a first wave of 183 aircraft loaded with bombs, torpedoes, and guns for a secret mission. Wearing his flight suit, his helmet is wrapped with white scarf. This Hachimaki, as it's called, was gifted to the pilot by the senior maintenance officer aboard the aircraft carrier Akagi, which transported them across the Pacific. In making the gift, the officer told Fuchida, all of the maintenance crew would like to go along. Since we can't, we want you to take this Hachimaki as a symbol that we are with you in spirit. The sun shines down on the island beneath him. The morning weather report from the capital city flickers through the plane's radio. Fuchida scans constantly, searching for patrols, but the skies remain clear. Through his binoculars, he spots a fleet at anchor, arranged exactly as their training models predicted. He grips his intercom, calling to radio man Mizuki Tokonobu, transmitting the attack order. Bombers swoop into position. One final sweep to ensure his 183 aircraft are in the clear. Then, he shouts into his intercom. History that doesn't suck is created and hosted by me, Greg Jackson. Episode researched and written by Greg Jackson and Will King. Special thanks to Dr. Gale King for cultural and linguistic assistance. Production by Airship. Audio editing by Mohamed Shazade. Sound design by Mali Bach. Theme music composed by Greg Jackson. Arrangement and additional composition by Lindsay Graham of Airship. For bibliography of all primary and secondary sources consulted and writing this episode, visit HTDSPodcast.com. 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