Assassinating histories

I was in the middle of Rampage (feel free to read the cruelest pun in that line), the acclaimed book written by James M. scott on the Battle of Manila, when I learned about the assassination of shinzō abe.

The world as we know it was shocked.

The shock came from the sense that the killing of an important man cannot be happening in Japan, a countr y noted for peace and the most difficult law on gun-ownership. But it happened in broad daylight. The killer was right there behind Abe.

After the shock came the tributes. Soon we learned about the record held by Abe, that of being the longest-serving Prime Minister of the country. The US government spoke of him as an able partner in world diplomacy and maintenance of global harmony whatever that notion means. His strong stand against China is manifested and his support of Taiwan clear and solid. Abe was with us, the Filipinos and the Philippines.

Before his remains could be brought back to Tokyo, words that were not exactly acclamatory started to trickle in. I was also waiting for the political observers from this country to say their piece. But we opted to be Asians at that point: do not talk ill of the dead. The words from this country remained on the level of diplomacy, and the good relationship he has forged with Japan and the Philippines.

We also get informed of his political pedigree – a grandson of a former Prime Minister, among many other laudatory linkages – and his politics. Other documents point to his connection to Nippon Kaigi (literally, Japan Conference), an ultra-conversative lobby and non-governmental organization whose members range from right-wing to far-right. Abe himself has been described by political observers as a right-wing Japanese nationalist.

All these criticisms were coming from foreign scholars of politics and diplomacy. In the Philippines, I could not find any critique that could balance our view of this Japanese statesman. This is a significant point to make considering the unique and controversial ties we have with Japan.

Given this gap, I decided to contact Hanna Zulueta, my former student in the Ateneo de Manila University, who has since then charted her own career as an academic.

Based in Tokyo, Hanna’s immediate reaction was that of a resident and observer: “I was shocked when I heard about it because gun violence is rare here, as you know. Also, I noticed that candidates don’t have tight security and people can really be near them so there’s no sense of danger. I remember I saw Abe years ago campaigning at Hachioji station. Some people were listening and watching him, some people were going about their own business.”

It is as a specialist in Philippine-japan relations that we need to value the words of this woman intellectual: “Yes, Abe may have been a friend of the Philippines and Southeast Asia but we also have to remember him as an ultranationalist, a history denier. His womenomics also wasn’t really beneficial for women.”

As days went by, the profile of the assassin was released: he held a grudge against Abe because of his support of what the reports identified as a Unification Church, another system with South Korean roots. To this, Zulueta noted developments in the Japanese society: “On social media, people were blaming the Zainichi (literally, “residing in Japan”) Koreans and the Chinese for the assassination. And some academics fear it [the situation] might embolden rightist groups and spread hate against the [Zainichi] Koreans and other minorities.”

Knowing that this Filipino intellectual who is presently an Associate Professor with Toyo University, a university established in 1887 in Tokyo, is keen about feminism, I asked her stand on Abe’s womenomics not being beneficial to women. “I think there were more women in the workforce but did it also lead to more women in leadership positions?” Zulueta emphasized. She continued: “Japan still ranks low in the gender gap report (they are ranked #120 in 2022). And more women in the workplace doesn’t mean more women empowerment since they still have the double burden when they go home.” At this point, Zulueta cited what Arlie Hochschild says about “second shift,” that part that demands women to do another domain of work once they leave the workplace.

Which brings us to what Abe is to the Philippines. Being part of a group that is noted for historical negationism, Abe’s positions include the denial of the systematic recruitment of comfort women in World War II.

And I am back to Rampage. Macarthur, Yamashita and the Battle of Manila.

People caught in those histories will always connect us to each other. In Scott’s book, a chapter talks of letters and quotes from American soldiers during the Philippine-american War: “This country won’t be pacified until the niggers [Filipinos] are killed off like the Indians.” “The only good Filipino is a dead one.” “No cruelty is too severe for these brainless monkeys who can appreciate no sense of honor, kindness, or justice.” But move to the next chapter and the villains have shifted from being Americans to being Japanese. The scene is at Bayview Hotel. It is February of 1945. Women were herded to the rooms of the said hotel. Soldiers came and dragged women out into rooms and raped them on the floor. One woman was raped so many times she had lost count. “I was raped between 12 and 15 times during that night.” More books contain accounts of these horrifying days. So, you see we are inextricably linked to each other—the US, Japan and the Philippines. Every now and then a politician in his death reminds us of this and more. Unfortunately, historical accounts can be denied in life as in death.