by Ian Kershaw
What Togo had in mind–and he had run the document past both the American and British ambassadors in Tokyo–was simply a device to prevent war in the short term, an indication of the absolutely minimum conditions acceptable to Japan. Togo thought there was no hope for Plan A, and that to try to negotiate on that basis would put him in an impossible position. Plan B, a brief document, left China out of consideration and concentrated on the south. It aimed not at a final or comprehensive agreement–impossible in the time-span–but to avoid further deterioration in relations with the United States. It agreed to withdraw Japanese troops immediately to northern French Indochina and, following settlement of the ‘China Incident’, eventually from Indochina altogether. Meanwhile, Japan and the United States would promise not to make military advances in south-east Asia, other than in Indochina. They would cooperate in guaranteeing necessary resources from the Dutch East Indies and the United States would supply Japan with the oil she needed in the restoration of trading relations to what they had been before the freezing of assets. Finally, the United States would not hinder efforts towards peace between Japan and China.89
The military representatives were appalled at the extent of the concessions. Sugiyama and Tsukada rejected outright the withdrawal of troops from Indochina. Both were adamant: Togo should proceed only with Plan A. Nagano agreed. Tsukada, summarizing the positions adopted on the respective merits of war and negotiations by those who had expressed their views, then established his own stance, lest anyone still be in doubt of it, and in inimitable style: ‘In general, the prospects if we go to war are not bright,’ he began. ‘We all wonder if there isn’t some way to proceed peacefully.’ However, he went on, ‘it is not possible to maintain the status quo’. With doubtful logic he then added: ‘Hence, one unavoidably reaches the conclusion that we must go to war.’ At this point, Tsukada was only just slipping into gear. Having begun by accepting that Japan’s chances in a war against the United States were not good, he resorted to national fatalism. ‘I, Tsukada,’ he declared, ‘believe that war cannot be avoided. Now is the time. Even if we don’t go to war now, we must do so next year, or the year after that. Now is the time. The moral spirit of Japan, the Land of the Gods, will shine on this occasion.’ He moved from fatalism to best-case-scenario military optimism. ‘The probability of Japan’s push southward enabling Germany and Italy to defeat Britain is high, and the probability of forcing China to capitulate is even higher than it is now. Then we could even force Russia to capitulate. If we take the South, we will be able to strike a strong blow against American resources of national defence. That is, we will build an iron wall, and within it we will destroy, one by one, the enemy states in Asia; and in addition, we will defeat America and Britain.’ This was the thinking of one of the highest representatives of the military elite. It was pure lunacy.
Togo held his ground in the face of such irrationality. Again the debate became heated. Togo’s resignation seemed possible. But this would have brought down the government. A new Cabinet might have opposed the war. This was the consideration put to the army chiefs in another brief recess. It concentrated their minds. They made minor wording amendments, particularly on restoration of trade relations, supplies of oil and noninterference in the settlement of the war with China. All were designed to toughen up the terms as far as possible without triggering a change of government. With these limited changes, they had to accept Togo’s proposal, whatever their distaste. When the Conference adjourned at 1.30 a.m. on 2 November, it had determined ‘in order to resolve the present critical situation, to assure [Japan’s] self-preservation and self-defence, and to establish a New Order in Greater East Asia…to go to war against the United States, Britain, and Holland’, with a deadline for initiating military action in early December. Only if negotiations proved successful by ‘zero hour on 1 December’ would military action be suspended.90
Togo and Kaya had asked for a few hours to think over the implications before giving their consent. By early next afternoon they had complied. The decision of the Liaison Conference was now unanimous. The Emperor, when Tojo reported to him on the outcome of the Conference, exhorted the Prime Minister ‘to do everything you possibly can to seek a negotiated settlement’. The deferential Tojo was indeed anxious to fulfil the Emperor’s wishes. He put the chances of successful negotiations at fifty-fifty. His Foreign Minister, Togo, put them, more realistically, at no better than one in ten.91
On 5 November at 10.30 a.m. Japan’s leaders assembled at the palace in the presence of the Emperor for the Imperial Conference–which on this occasion went unreported in the press92–to ratify the decision taken three days earlier. Unlike the heated atmosphere of the Liaison Conference on that occasion, this time there was no dissension. But there was a dejected and anxious mood among the participants, shared also by the Emperor.93
Tojo began by reminding those present of the background to the revision of the ‘Essentials for Carrying out the Empire’s Policies’ that had been agreed on 6 September. As a result of the intervening deliberations, he said, ‘we have come to the conclusion that we must now decide to go to war, set the time for military action at the beginning of December, concentrate all of our efforts on completing preparations for war, and at the same time try to break the impasse by means of diplomacy’. Togo pointed out that there was little room left for diplomatic manoeuvring. Suzuki and Kaya gave lengthy summaries of the raw materials and financial situation. Suzuki’s argument was that, as regards material resources, war was preferable to ‘just sitting tight and waiting for the enemy to put pressure on us’. Kaya noted that ‘it will not be possible for some time for us to give much consideration to the living conditions of the people’ of the occupied territories, ‘and for a while we will have to pursue a so-called policy of exploitation’. The chiefs of staff then commented on war preparations. Sugiyama emphasized once more that time would work against Japan if war should be delayed.
Hara, the President of the Privy Council, posed questions at this point, as convention demanded, on behalf of the Emperor. Tojo responded on the issue of stationing troops in China. He again emphasized Japan’s sacrifices since the war there had begun. Withdrawal of troops would leave Japan worse off than she had been prior to the war. China would be more powerful than before and ‘would even attempt to rule Manchuria, Korea, and Formosa [Taiwan]’, he added. ‘We can expect an expansion of our country only by stationing troops. This the United States does not welcome.’ Hara turned to the detail of Togo’s Plans A and B. Togo admitted that he could expect no settlement from Plan A. Even Plan B would meet serious obstacles. There were only two weeks left for negotiations. ‘To my regret,’ Togo said, ‘there is little hope for success.’ Hara, too, greatly regretted this, stressing again the importance of a negotiated settlement, though he concluded that ‘it is impossible, from the standpoint of our domestic political situation and of our self-preservation, to accept all of the American demands. We must hold fast to our position.’ He correctly viewed the war in China as the root of the problem. But he saw no immediate way out of it. Japan could not let the current situation continue. ‘If we miss the present opportunity to go to war, we will have to submit to American dictation. Therefore, I recognize that it is inevitable that we must decide to start a war against the United States.’ The Emperor on this occasion remained silent. There can be no doubt that Hara was echoing Hirohito’s sentiments.
Tojo brought the Conference to a close. He acknowledged the grave difficulties the war would bring. Again, he painted a picture of an even less attractive alternative. ‘Two years from now we will have no petroleum for military use. Ships will stop moving. When I think about the strengthening of American defences in the south-west Pacific, the expansion of the American fleet, the unfinished China Incident, and so on, I see no end to difficulties. We can talk about austerity and suffering, but can our people endure such a life for a long time?’ He feared Japan would become ‘a third-class nation after two or three years if we jus
t sat tight’.94
This was the ultimate reasoning for war. Peace but austerity in a world dominated by America, or war with probable defeat but upholding national honour were the alternatives.95 War was seen as preferable. As the American ambassador in Tokyo, Joseph Grew, put it, Japan would risk ‘national hara-kiri’ rather than ‘yield to foreign pressure’, adding cryptically that ‘Japanese sanity cannot be measured by American standards of logic’.96 The fateful Imperial Conference ended. The decision was that, short of a diplomatic miracle, Japan would go to war. No objections were raised. The Emperor’s seal of approval was given.
VI
Everything now hung by a frayed thread of diplomacy. As a last-ditch effort, and to help the struggling Nomura, Togo sent a highly experienced diplomat, Kurusu Saburo, to Washington as his special emissary with the mission of brokering a holding peace if at all possible. Kurusu, a tiny, dapper man, had served as ambassador to Germany and indeed signed the Tripartite Pact, but was also well acquainted with the United States through his American wife of British descent.97 The auguries were not good; Hull ‘felt from the start that he was deceitful’.98 In Tokyo, Tojo now put the chances of success at 30 per cent–down from 50 per cent a few days earlier. He asked Kurusu to do his best.99
Preparations for war were meanwhile well advanced. An attack on Pearl Harbor had been proposed by Admiral Yamamoto Isoroku (who would eventually lead the assault) in May 1941, tested in war games in September, and adopted by Nagano on 20 October.100 This would be one prong of the overall offensive. In tandem with this daring move would proceed a widespread assault on Malaya and the Philippines, leading to an attack on the Dutch East Indies. Within four to eight months, Japan would have attained the dominance in south-east Asia and the western Pacific needed to combat the United States over a lengthier period or to force a negotiated peace to her advantage. This was the strategic aim. At the same time, it was presumed, the severance of aid to China as a consequence of the expansion would cut off the lifeblood of Chiang Kai-shek’s struggle. Finally, though this was outside Japan’s direct control, it was hoped that German military successes against Britain and the Soviet Union would be accompanied by the Axis powers declaring war on the United States, which would then become enfeebled through prolonged embroilment in the European conflict.101 By the beginning of November, the Japanese strategic plan had then taken something approaching its final shape. On 3 November, Yamamoto, as Commander-in-Chief of the Combined Fleet, approved the secret operations order, which began by stating that ‘The Japanese Empire is expecting war to break out with the United States, Great Britain, and the Netherlands’.102
The Emperor, briefed daily by his chiefs of staff, was fully apprised of developments and showed an acute awareness of tactical detail. On 4 November, he attended–exceptionally–a lengthy meeting of the Supreme War Council at which the chiefs of staff and the Prime Minister were questioned.103 Hirohito was still wracked with doubts and worries. He feared the consequences of war. And he had concerns about important details of the military operations. These were justified. For whatever the precise military planning for the offensive, the overall strategy was flawed. Too much was left to factors which Japan could not determine. And too much was predicated upon the best-case scenario. But, whatever his inner anxieties, the Emperor confirmed the strategic war plan in the middle of the month.104
The task facing Nomura and Kurusu was daunting in the extreme. It was not helped by the fact that the secret instructions from Togo to Nomura accompanying the transmitted text of Plans A and B–like all other secret traffic from Tokyo, immediately intercepted by American intelligence and decoded before being sent on to Hull–were distorted through inaccurate translation in a way that enhanced suspicions of Japanese duplicity.105 Distortions or not, there was no mistaking the implication of the intercepted traffic: Japan was preparing for war in the very near future.106 In the State Department, Stanley Hornbeck was advising Hull to ignore the appeals by Ambassador Grew in Tokyo to take seriously the Japanese desire to avoid war. Knowing from the intelligence intercepts that Japan was talking peace but preparing for war did nothing to win over the hard-nosed Hornbeck, who thought Grew too ready to trust Japanese intentions. And Hornbeck, rather than Grew, had the ear of the American Secretary of State.107
Even so, at first it seemed that the faint hope of those still working for a compromise settlement might be justified. By 15 November Plan A was predictably rejected.108 But the American government was still playing for time. And the administration was not speaking with one clear voice. While Hull and the State Department dampened prospects of an accommodation, the President himself appeared still open to the possibility of one. Urged by his military advisers to practise caution towards Japan and concentrate on defeating Germany, Roosevelt told Hull and a distinctly unimpressed Henry Stimson, the Secretary of War, that he was contemplating proposing a six-month truce during which there would be no troop movements. The President, receiving the Japanese ambassador on 10 November, hinted at the possibility of what he called a ‘modus vivendi’. When they met again a week later, this time with Kurusu (who had arrived on 10 November) in attendance, Roosevelt seemed to open up the prospect of a breakthrough in the critical issue of China. He indicated that the United States did not want to intervene or mediate in the Sino-Japanese dispute. According to Nomura’s dispatch, the President coined the word ‘introducer’ to describe what he saw as America’s role in prompting a settlement. Kurusu reported back to Tokyo that Roosevelt had ‘considerable enthusiasm for a Japanese-American accord’. Nomura was so encouraged that, on his own initiative, he suggested that the United States rescind the freeze on Japanese assets in return for Japan’s withdrawal of troops. This was going much too far for Tokyo. Nomura was called to order by Togo, and told to resubmit Plan B (which, Kurusu had already told Tokyo, would in its entirety probably be unacceptable).109 Nomura duly presented Plan B to Hull on 20 November. It triggered the last episode in the diplomatic drama.
Hull’s cold reception dismayed Nomura and Kurusu. He declared that the American public saw Japan and Nazi Germany in partnership to divide up the world. The Tripartite Pact, he stated, had strengthened such feeling. Privately, Hull was utterly negative about the current proposal. He viewed it as an ultimatum, later saying its stipulations were ‘of so preposterous a character that no American official could ever have dreamed of accepting them’.110
Whatever his private views, Hull did not, however, dismiss Plan B outright. In fact, the American reply, in its final draft of 25 November, was surprisingly conciliatory.111 It had taken account of a pencilled note sent over a week earlier by Roosevelt to Hull, proposing a ‘modus vivendi’–the term he had used at the beginning of November when talking to Nomura–for a six-month period. In the President’s brief formulation, Japan would stop troop movements and agree not to invoke the Tripartite Pact even if America became involved in the war in Europe. The United States, for her part, would resume economic relations with Japan and broker the beginning of talks between Japan and China.112 The idea had the backing of military top brass, keen to win time to bolster defences in the Philippines. At this point it seemed as if perhaps some common ground could even now be found between the Japanese Plan B and the State Department’s incorporation of the President’s idea of a temporary modus vivendi.113 But by late that evening, Hull had abandoned the possibility. The Chinese had been predictably vehemently hostile to any concessions to Japan. The British, Dutch and Australian governments were only lukewarm.114 In any case, the Secretary of State’s reluctance to reach an accommodation with the Japanese on anything but unyielding American terms had never been significantly diluted. It had, in fact, been reinforced by the intercept of a message from Tokyo to Nomura on 22 November, extending the deadline for negotiations from 25 to 29 November, but emphasizing that this ‘deadline absolutely cannot be changed. After that things are automatically going to happen.’ Any residual hope in the State Department of finding a modus vivendi was la
rgely dispelled by the anger at this message.115
What had specifically changed Hull’s mind, however, had been the abrasive reaction to the ‘modus vivendi’ proposal by Chiang Kai-shek, fearful that American appeasement was about to take place at the expense of China.116 A message from Churchill to Roosevelt, backing Chiang and expressing British anxiety about a collapse of China, confirmed Hull’s rejection of the ‘modus vivendi’.117 ‘The slight prospect of Japan’s agreeing to the modus vivendi’, the Secretary of State concluded, ‘did not warrant assuming the risks involved in proceeding with it, especially the risk of collapse of Chinese morale and resistance, and even of disintegration in China.’118 Roosevelt, on the other hand, seemed even early next morning, 26 November, to imply that the ‘modus vivendi’ could be rescued, saying he could assuage the Chinese. The President’s mood darkened measurably only a little later, however, when he was given reports of a Japanese convoy carrying about 50,000 troops, sighted south of Taiwan. Roosevelt was incandescent at what he saw as evidence of bad faith on the part of the Japanese. He said it ‘changed the whole situation’. Soon afterwards, Hull arrived at the White House, proposing that the ‘modus vivendi’ be abandoned. Instead, he suggested offering the Japanese a new and ‘comprehensive basic proposal for a general peaceful settlement’. Roosevelt agreed.119