For forgiveness and reconciliation
By Kim Mi-kyoung
The month of August carries a cruel history for many Koreans. On Aug. 29, 1910, Japan absorbed Korea as its colony. On Aug. 6, 1945, 50,000 Koreans died from or were injured in the aftermath of the Hiroshima atomic bombing.
On Aug. 9, 1945, 20,000 Koreans suffered from the same fate in Nagasaki. And Aug. 15 marked Korea’s liberation from Imperial Japan after 35 years of subjugation.
Korea and Japan are yet to settle the meaning of their dark past with each other after 65 years of independence and defeat. What both countries need at this moment is a strong and united vision to go beyond the bitter shared history.
During his visit to Hiroshima for the Aug. 6 Peace Ceremony, U.N. Secretary General Ban Ki-moon provided a very helpful clue for both societies to transform the negative experiences into the nutrients for reconciliation.
The atomic bomb, “Little Boy,” was dropped from the U.S. bomber, Enola Gay, on Hiroshima, a major military and industrial center during Japan’s wartime empire.
The Truman administration’s decision to use the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki was the primary reason for Japan’s unconditional surrender. Since then, Hiroshima has become a powerful symbol of anti-nuclear pacifism.
The human race woke up to the chilling reality that we are capable of self-annihilation: Scientific and technological innovations becoming a latent source of our own demise. Essentially, Hiroshima opened a new chapter in human history.
This year’s commemorative ceremony was momentous in many regards. A total of 70 countries, a record number thus far, dispatched their representatives to Hiroshima reflecting the increasing global consensus for a nuclear weapons-free world.
The first attendance of U.S. Ambassador to Japan John Roos drew particular attention given the American attack on the city caused massive-scale casualties.
Some staged street protests demanding the U.S. apology for the destruction, while others acknowledged the symbolic importance of the American envoy’s participation.
Roos neither gave a speech nor dedicated a wreath for the deceased at the ceremonial venue, making it clear that his attendance would be nothing more than a gesture of historical reconciliation between the U.S. and Japan.
Ban Ki-moon’s activities in Hiroshima were a different story, however. He managed to deliver three speeches, and held a press interview in a four-hour span on the scorching summer day. His message was simple: the hope for world peace through nuclear disarmament.
Ban came to Hiroshima as the chief of the United Nations with 192 member nations. And yet, he was unmistakably Korean in his stance: “When the atomic bombs fell on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, I was one year old. Only later in life, could I begin to understand the full dimension of all that happened here. As a young boy, I lived through the Korean War.”
“One of my earliest memories is marching along a muddy road into the mountains, my village burning behind me. All those lives lost, families destroyed … so much sadness. Ever since, I have devoted my life to peace. It has brought me here today.”
His words demonstrated the power of sympathetic imagination. It does not matter who suffered from what war. Human suffering affects everyone equally. The universal appeal to human beings as one common category helps people to realize the transformative power of shared suffering.
When “my pain is always bigger than your pain,” it is very ordinary. It is the realization that “somebody else’s pain can be as big as mine” that helps us transcend the self-absorption of the here and now to a mutual alliance with shared goals.
At the Korean Atomic Bomb Victims Memorial, Ban spoke about the heartache for the Korean victims who lost their lives on the foreign soil. Out of 159,283 instant deaths, a total of 30,000 Koreans perished instantly from radiation exposure. Most of them were factory workers forced to support Japan’ wartime efforts.
It took the Japanese government about 50 years to acknowledge the sacrifices of foreign victims, the majority of them being Koreans.
The Korean Atomic Bomb Victims Memorial tells a poignant story of discrimination, silencing and partial acceptance by Japanese society. It was the Korean Residents Association of Hiroshima Prefecture that raised funds to build the memorial in 1970.
The City of Hiroshima took 29 years to grant it a rightful space within the Peace Memorial Park premises. The edifice used to occupy an obscure street corner in the city until 1999.
Considering the dark past during and after the war, the municipal government tried to keep Ban’s visit to the Korean victims’ memorial a secret from the public.
In responding to the repeated inquiries, the city gave two reasons for it to be a secret. It stated that making his plans public prior to the visit could threaten his safety.
And yet, the city could not justify why the gathering of Korean residents at the memorial could be a bigger threat to Ban than the gathering of 500 Japanese at the auditorium for his lecture.
Another reason the city gave was that Ban was coming to Hiroshima as the head of the United Nations, not as a Korean citizen. Where the separation of his citizenship identity from occupational role sounded partially probable, it lacked in overall persuasion.
What the Mecca of anti-nuclear pacifism needed was the visit by the U.N. secretary general, not a Korean citizen who remembers the tragic history behind the memorial. Despite the secrecy, 100 Korean-Japanese residents gathered at the memorial and paid tribute to the deceased along with Ban.
Mahatma Gandhi stated, “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” What Ban has shown to the Korean-Japanese community during his Hiroshima visit was the influence of sympathy and forgiveness.
With those moral templates, Korea can take the initiatives in achieving more meaningful historical reconciliation with Japan. And that is to the advantage of both countries.
Kim Mi-kyoung is associate professor at Hiroshima City University-Hiroshima Peace Institute. She can be reached at mkkim@peace.hiroshima-cu.ac.jp.