Time for Remembrance and Reflection in Japan
August. It has a special significance for Japan. The key words are “Irei,” “chinkon,” and “Tsuito,” which mean remembrance, mourning, and paying tribute to the dead. On August 6 in Hiroshima, on 9 in Nagasaki, annual ceremony commemorating the atomic bombing takes place. And the anniversary of the end of the World War II is held on 15. For many Japanese, August is therefore a time to mourn the victims of war and to reflect anew on the importance of peace.
This period also coincides with “Obon,” a traditional religious observance, which in much of Japan takes place in mid-August. During Obon, the spirits of deceased ancestors are traditionally believed to return to the world of the living. Many people travel back to their hometowns to spend time with their families, and it is common for relatives to share memories of those who have passed away.
Everyone eventually dies. Yet the circumstances of death are not equal. Some live long lives and die peacefully in old age, while others die prematurely. Many people also lose their lives in natural disasters. But few deaths are more tragic than those caused by war, because they are, in a sense, deaths imposed by the state—people are deprived of their own will and compelled by the state to sacrifice their lives.
This columnist believes that war is evil. States and leaders who initiate wars invariably offer their justifications. The reasons behind wars vary. Territorial ambitions, economic interests, or attempts to divert public attention from domestic discontent, among others. In the columnist’s view, many wars are the consequence of failures of diplomacy, including a failure to make a genuine effort to seek diplomatic solutions.
If military power becomes the means by which disputes and conflicts between states are settled, only the strongest countries will ultimately prevail. Militarily weaker countries will have little choice but to submit to the will of stronger ones if they are to survive. Was this not precisely the kind of law-of-the-jungle world that the international community sought to avoid after the World War I, through the painstaking construction of a multilateral system centered first on the League of Nations, followed by the United Nations? Today, it is frightening to watch that system appear to be coming apart before our eyes.
I have written that this columnist believes war is wrong. But some might object that, although war may be evil, it is sometimes a necessary evil. What if we put the argument somewhat differently and say that there is no such thing as a just war or a holy war? In the twenty-first century, can there really be such a thing as a just war? Can there be a holy war?
Meet Mr. Pete Hegseth, the U.S. secretary of defense. He has been described and criticized as having close ties to Christian nationalism. He has strongly supported the government of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and has taken a hard line toward the Muslim world. On his right arm he has a tattoo reading “Deus Vult,” a phrase associated with the First Crusade and also the motto of the Equestrian Order of the Holy Sepulcher of Jerusalem. On his chest is a large Jerusalem Cross. Hegseth has said that the Jerusalem Cross is a religious symbol and has rejected claims that his tattoos signify extremist ideology.
When the United States was attacked by al-Qaeda on September 11, 2001, Islamist extremism was widely condemned around the world. I remember that within religious communities, there was also a recognition of the need for greater dialogue within the Muslim world, including between moderate Muslims and more radical religious currents. In international politics, there was growing recognition that poverty, inequality and lack of economic opportunity could contribute to political instability and extremism. In November of that same year, the World Trade Organization launched the Doha Round of multilateral trade negotiations, whose development agenda included improving the trading prospects of developing countries.
Islamist extremism was fiercely condemned, but Christian fundamentalism, Christian nationalism and some forms of radical Zionism that reject Palestinian rights have not, in the columnist’s view, received comparable scrutiny. Is it not time for religious communities to confront this problem more directly?
Historically, the involvement of religion in wars and conflicts has often produced tragic consequences. Surely religion has a meaningful role to play when it helps prevent war, resolve conflicts and build reconciliation. I do not believe the columnist is alone in thinking that this is where religion can demonstrate its true reason for being.
By Hajime Ozaki, a journalist and an external relations advisor for RfP/WCRP Japan