by James Johns
Then, out of the clear blue, Nomura inquired as to whether the two heads of government might actually meet. Suggesting Honolulu as the location, Nomura proposed that Prince Konoye and President Roosevelt sit down and try to work out their differences, the first hint of a leaders’ conference. But it was a conference that would never take place.
Chapter 7
* * *
Negotiations
The last days of August 1941 would produce many history-shaping events. In support of the Monroe Doctrine, the U.S. Navy would now guard against the German intrusion of the Atlantic waters of South America by establishing the sporadic, irregular appearance of American cruisers.
On the last Thursday of August, a squadron of B-17 Flying Fortresses departed Hamilton Field, San Francisco, for Clark Field, Luzon, to introduce American air power to the Far East. The route would take them to Pearl Harbor, Midway, Wake, and on to Rabaul and Port Moresby in Papua New Guinea. This was not the most direct route. A natural last stop would have been Guam. But the Americans had refrained from building an airfield on Guam in order to appease the Japanese hardliners, an airfield that could have accommodated the heavy bombers. It was believed that the presence of the bombers in the Philippines, however, would discourage any Japanese moves toward British Malaya or the Dutch East Indies in their efforts to recoup their losses from the July 26 American embargo. While all discussions at Placentia Bay between FDR and Churchill (Atlantic Charter) were not released to the public, some believe that the decision to fly the bombers to Luzon was reached at that time.
Per Brereton’s inventory of early November, this brought the total of B-17s at Clark up to thirty-five. Supplying the Philippines with bombers from San Francisco represented the first land-based bomber crossings of the central Pacific. They proved that the Philippines could be reinforced by air. And had the Japanese ever entertained bypassing the Philippines, the arrival of the B-17s ended that plan, because it now threatened any Japanese moves in the southwestern Pacific.
In the waning days of August, Ambassador Nomura, who had been negotiating with Secretary Hull throughout the year, arrived at the State Department armed with a startling proposal: a face-to-face meeting between the Japanese prime minister, Prince Konoye, and the president. It had been almost a month since Konoye had approached the Japanese navy and war ministers with the thought that perhaps a new method of appeal to Washington would bear better results. He requested their support for a direct, person-to-person discussion with the president. Because there had been no success so far, there was certainly nothing to lose. In fact, procrastination could make such a meeting more difficult if the German advance into Russia slowed or stopped altogether, in which case, the American position would become very hard-line.
And by late summer of 1941, the German offensive in Russia was slowing down. The Red Army would eventually mobilize another three hundred divisions by the end of the year.1 So it would not be the quick defeat of Russia that Germany initially predicted.
The Japanese needed to act before Americans took the hard line. General Tojo, who would later succeed Konoye as prime minister, reminded Konoye that this, a meeting of the prime minister and the president, could be a breach of the Tripartite Pact and demanded assurances that he was not softening on Japan’s demands or position. The evidence suggests that Prince Konoye was a sincere man who hoped to strengthen his position with his ministers by meeting with the president to discuss their differences, and hopefully return with the start of something that would be acceptable to them. A new beginning. Anything positive would certainly strengthen his position at home.
Armed with the support of Emperor Hirohito, who had chosen to reign and not rule, the proposal suggested Hawaii as the possible site for the leaders’ conference. Konoye communicated his proposal to Ambassador Grew, who immediately cabled Washington and pointed to this as the best occasion to set a new course, by laying both sides on the table.
Nomura even succeeded in getting FDR’s interest in the “‘frank exchange of views’ on ‘all important problems between Japan and America covering the entire Pacific area.’”2 Roosevelt encouraged Nomura’s optimism by responding that it was at least a step in the right direction. FDR’s counter to a leaders’ conference in Hawaii was possibly aboard a battleship off Alaska. He was even prepared to deny the existence of such a proposal to throw off German fears that the Japanese were undermining the Tripartite Pact. Had the isolationists gotten a hint of the Konoye offer, they would have had a field day with demands for such a meeting. For a start, Secretary Hull drew up four basic principles that the president forwarded to Konoye via Nomura:
1. Respect for the territorial integrity and sovereignty of each and all nations.
2. Support the principles on non-interference in internal affairs of other countries.
3. Support the principles of equality, including equality of commercial opportunity.
4. Non-disturbance of the status quo in the Pacific except … by peaceful means.3
In an attempt to pacify his war ministers and the emperor, Konoye drew up his “Plans for the Prosecution of the Policy of the Imperial Government.”4 Although in contrast to FDR’s four principles, they were meant to smooth over or soften tensions until he could get concrete concessions at the conference.
But it was FDR’s own State Department that pulled the plug on any hope of top-level discussions, using the argument that an agenda of particular or specific demands should first be established before going blind into such a meeting. This was the same department that had refused to accept warnings from Grew that Pearl Harbor had been singled out for attack earlier in the year, the same department that refused to acknowledge that Japan was preparing for war and would take on the United States. Secretary of State Hull was insisting on handling Japanese concessions in China as good faith for a meeting, which eventually sabotaged the whole idea. With the disastrous British appeasement at Munich still fresh in American memories, Hull was reluctant to court a potential repeat performance. With this concern, Hull indicated to Secretary of War Stimson that nothing could be discussed unless a preliminary agreement with Japan was reached first. And Stimson agreed with Hull.
Since becoming prime minister in 1937, Konoye had worked diligently to bring all of Japan’s adversaries together. Meeting with Roosevelt would have been his shining opportunity, even though the military considered him too moderate for a Japan with a military future. This moderation forced his resignation October 17. He was replaced by General Hideki Tojo, who now held the dual position of prime minister and war minister.
Known as a Fascist, as a nationalist, and as a militarist, Tojo was certainly less relenting than Konoye. Favoring expansion in China, and supporting the Tripartite Pact with Germany and Italy, he had no qualms about taking on the United States. With Hirohito’s blessing, it was only a matter of weeks after his appointment as prime minister that the plans to attack Pearl Harbor would be finalized.
Unfortunately for the United States, it was known that Konoye’s influence was on the decline, and the leadership conference would have returned his popularity. But if toppled, his replacement would be the hard-line militant, Tojo. Not considered in Washington was that the failure of such a leaders’ conference would prove to the Japanese people that war was unavoidable, further supporting the Japanese war ministers’ positions. This in itself would strengthen their resolve for final victory. With this diplomatic failure in Japan’s gravest hour, it was obvious that no smooth future diplomacy by the Japanese ambassador would persuade the Americans to stop aid to China or to give up the Burma Road. War preparations must press ahead.
As late as early September 1941, Emperor Hirohito, who had reigned since 1926, appeared to favor diplomatic negotiations over war preparations. At the Imperial Conference on September 6, he put his army and navy leadership to the test. Breaking with tradition, he directly questioned the military leadership and found that most were in favor of war.
None of this sat well
with Hirohito, who believed that the ministers, too, were giving precedence to war over diplomacy. It was in this atmosphere that he recited a line from an old, historic Japanese poem: “Since all are brothers in this world, why is there such constant turmoil?”5 To this, the ministers promised diplomatic attempts first. Both ambassadors, Nomura and Grew, expressed disappointment with the prospect of no leaders’ conference with Konoye and Roosevelt, and both agreed that this would seal the fate of the Konoye government and its replacement with a “less moderate leader.”6
On October 2, the no-meeting decision was handed to Nomura. But on October 18, the day after the fall of the Konoye government, the Magic machines in Washington decoded a message to Nomura stating that regardless of who runs the new cabinet, negotiations with the Americans had to continue. By this time, however, after more meetings with General Tojo, Hirohito had started leaning toward war, and on November 5, he approved the plans to attack the United States.
The following message from Admiral Stark to Admiral Hart in Manila and Admiral Kimmel in Hawaii illustrates how the State Department well understood that unwillingness to deal with Prince Konoye would end any peaceful attempts to negotiate with his hard-line, militaristic replacement. It read in part: “The resignation of the Japanese cabinet has created a grave situation. If a new cabinet is formed it will probably be strongly nationalistic and anti–American.”7 But just a few days later, Stark toned down that message in a personal letter to Kimmel with the comment, “Personally I do not believe the Japs are going to sail into us and the message I sent you merely stated the ‘possibility.’”8
The argument for diplomacy was fast reaching an end. Every waiting week of anticipated diplomacy may have meant concessions for the Japanese and additional strength in the Philippines for the United States. Japan’s naval minister, Admiral Koshiro Oikawa, who was opposed to Japan’s taking on either Russia or the United States, favored going “all the way with the policy of bringing the negotiations to fruition.”9 But General Tojo would not budge, and by October, he asked for the resignation of Konoye and his cabinet.
The failure of the proposal did signal the end for Prince Konoye, who spent the balance of the war as an outsider. By 1945, he was active in attempts to bring about the end of the war. But later on, hearing that he could be charged with war crimes because of his office at the start, he committed suicide with poison.
Surprisingly, the Japanese would make one last-ditch effort to get something on the table. Foreign Minister Toyoda inquired through Ambassadors Grew and Nomura as to exactly what it would require to get FDR to a leaders’ meeting. Again, nothing developed, but now there was a new concern on the part of Tokyo. In a conversation with Grew in the second attempt for a session, Toyoda commented that he would have to rely mostly on Grew because response from Nomura was uncharacteristically vague. Perhaps the workload had finally caught up with him. Toyoda confessed to Grew that he was wrestling with the thought of sending another top diplomat to Washington to help Nomura. This was still exactly one week before Prince Konoye stepped down, which refutes the claim that the Kurusu Mission to Washington, thought by some to be a delay tactic, was an invention of the Tojo government.
Historically, it was on September 24 that the so-called bomb plot message was sent from the Tokyo foreign office to the Japanese consulate in Honolulu and decoded by Magic in Washington. These were the instructions: to inform Tokyo of all ship movements in and around Pearl Harbor. By the time it was decoded in early October, it was already over ten days old, and at the time, the message sounded no alarms. It read:
Henceforth, we would like to have you make reports concerning vessels along the following lines in so far as possible:
1. The waters of Pearl Harbor are to be divided roughly into five sub-areas. We have no objection to your abbreviating as much as you like.
Area A. Waters between Ford Island and the arsenal.
Area B. Waters adjacent to the island south and west of Ford Island. This area is on the opposite side of the island from Area A.
Area C. East loch.
Area D. Middle loch.
Area E. West loch and the communicating water routes.
2. With regard to warships and aircraft carriers we would like to have you report on those at anchor (these are not so important), tied up at wharves, buoys, and in dock. Designate types and classes briefly. If possible, we would like to have you make mention of the fact when there are two or more vessels alongside the same wharf.10
A follow-up message dated November 15 read, “As relations between Japan and the United States are most critical, make your ‘ship in harbor report’ irregular, but at a rate of twice a week. Although you already are no doubt aware, please take extra care to maintain secrecy.”11 And finally a third message: “We have been receiving reports from you on ship movements, but in the future, will you also report even when there are no movements.”12 This last message was sent on November 29 and decoded on December 5.
Pearl Harbor might be compared to a modern-day corporate parking lot where everyone has an assigned place to park. Every ship at Pearl Harbor had a designated berth. If the berth was empty, the ship was either out to sea or in dry dock. Of the one hundred forty-five ships at Pearl Harbor, ninety-six of them were combat vessels.13
The Washington intelligence reception of these messages ranged from “interesting” to “nicety of detail,” to “nonsense,” because in the event of war, the ships wouldn’t be in port anyway. These responses came from officers of both services authorized to read Magic, who either thought the information should be forwarded to Hawaii, to decision makers who refused to pass it on for any one of many reasons. Interestingly, no officer who ever guessed Pearl Harbor as the target was ever advanced in grade or promoted in his job.
There were two such officers who insisted on warning Kimmel of the bomb plot message: Captain Alan Kirk, the director of naval intelligence, and Captain Howard Bode, head of the foreign intelligence section of ONI. Both officers had extensive backgrounds in intelligence, and clashed with Admiral Richmond Turner, Director of War Plans, concerning the Magic decrypts and how they should be distributed. When Turner heard of their urging to notify Kimmel, both men were relieved of their duties and reassigned elsewhere, a warning for others. Kirk would later serve as an amphibious commander in the invasions of Sicily and Italy in 1943, as well as senior naval commander at Normandy on June 6, 1944. Bode would eventually be assigned to the Oklahoma, which was torpedoed at Pearl Harbor. After Pearl Harbor, he went on to command the USS Chicago (CA-29), which would later be sunk in the Battle of Rennell Island in early 1943.
Admiral Turner had been appointed Director of War Plans in 1940, and technically, he reported to Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Stark, but he involved himself with both naval intelligence and naval operations. Some in the intelligence operations in Washington believed that Turner intimidated Stark, and therefore Stark acquiesced to his demands. And it was Turner who decided not to share the most recent Japanese diplomatic communications with Kimmel.
Admirals Stark and Turner later denied ever seeing such messages. Perhaps to cover themselves, they easily convinced their director of naval intelligence, Rear Admiral Theodore Wilkinson, to do nothing because Wilkinson was new to the job. Wilkinson had just joined the Office of Naval Intelligence in October 1941, and while it was the responsibility of his staff to collect and evaluate intelligence, Turner had already started calling the shots. Because Stark thought Turner was much too valuable to alienate, he allowed Turner to operate in whatever way suited him, and Turner was making the decisions on which decrypts were shared with the fleet commanders. Strangely, he was one of the few in Washington who would admit that there was a fifty-fifty chance that the Japanese would start with Pearl Harbor in their conquest of the Pacific, and yet he didn’t feel it necessary to share with Kimmel what could have helped him the most.
Another player involved in the bomb plot controversy was Rear Admiral Leigh Noyes. As the dire
ctor of naval communications, he had been caught in the crossfire between Admiral Turner and Admiral Wilkinson. But thinking that the Japanese were bluffing, he failed to see the importance of the message. Oddly enough, Noyes was known for his indecision, and yet, he would later be put in tactical command of the USS Wasp (CV-7), which was sunk by the Japanese on September 15, 1942, just after the invasion of Guadalcanal. The Wasp would be Noyes’s last sea command.
Being the most feared and disliked officer on the naval staff, Turner had been nicknamed “Terrible Turner.” He had a personality conflict with Admiral Kimmel and felt that Kimmel was getting too much information already. Yet Kimmel had been assured by Admiral Stark that he would receive anything and everything necessary for him to make command decisions. As the director, Admiral Wilkinson did, however, send the December 2 message to the fleet commanders, advising them that the Japanese consulates had been ordered to destroy their codes. As this was a standard operating procedure, Wilkinson would have been in the clear of Terrible Turner. After his brief time with ONI, Wilkinson was assigned commander of Battleship Division 2, Pacific Fleet, and later deputy commander in the south Pacific under Admiral Bull Halsey.
Army intelligence suffered from the same leadership issues that navy intelligence did. Brigadier General Sherman Miles, Assistant Chief of Staff G-2 and head of Military Intelligence Division (MID), refused to warn General Short of the bomb plot message with the logic that the Japanese were seeking this information from ports all over the Pacific. When Miles was later challenged to name just one port of all those under surveillance by the Japanese, he could not.