by Hal Gold
Nonetheless, all the other, reliable evidence leads one to think that there is still more to this story than has yet met the eye. And if a true version of events ever is proven, it may well show up the official conclusion in the Teigin Incident as nothing but a piece of fiction. Future investigation may someday reveal that the post-World War II ghost of the Ishii unit lurked somewhere nearby, after all.
Japanese Biological Warfare Data in the Korean War
In March 1951, about half a year after Red China's People's Liberation Army entered into the Korean War, Beijing reported that United Nations forces were resorting to biological warfare in the field. On May 8, 1951, Park Hen Yen, foreign minister of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (North Korea), lodged an official protest with the United Nations. U.S. forces, he claimed, had attacked Pyongyang with smallpox. This was denied by the U.N. commander. In February of the following year, a new accusation came from North Korea that, for the past month, Americans had been systematically scattering large quantities of bacteria-carrying insects by aircraft, targeting North Korean army positions. China's premier and minister of foreign affairs, Zhou Enlai, lodged a separate and similar protest against the U.S. on February 24; in doing so, he directly lent his country's prestige to the North Korean accusation. He further asserted that the Americans had first started using biological warfare even earlier than the North Koreans had claimed, starting in December 1950. The protests were picked up on by other Communist countries, which, as usual, saw an opportunity for scoring propaganda points.
Naturally, North Korea's other major patron, the Soviet Union, got involved, condemning America's alleged use of biological warfare weaponry. America, the Soviets reminded the world, was the only member of the Security Council which had not ratified the 1925 Geneva Protocol outlawing biological and chemical weapons in war. America rejoined that the protocol was obsolete and only a paper promise (after all, what good had it done in restraining the Japanese, who were signatories?), and that the U.S.S.R. was merely committed to a policy of "no first use," something that they could get around at any time by claiming that the other side acted first. Finally, the U.N. offered to have the International Red Cross investigate on both sides. This proposal, however, only brought accusations from North Korea that the organization was merely a tool of American aggression and a spy agency.
In the absence of concrete proof of biological warfare by the United States, the overwhelming majority of U.N. member nations rejected the accusations. U.N. commander Matthew B. Ridge way countered by dismissing the Communist accusations as a coverup for the inability on the part of China and North Korea to handle the epidemics that break out seasonally within their borders.
If these allegations were true, they would certainly serve as further evidence of the U.S. military's having acquired the results of Unit 731 research and field tests in what one could reasonably assume was a tradeoff for immunity from prosecution. There were also rumors in Japan about former Unit 731 members going to Korea with the American forces. A bomb on permanent display in the Unit 731 Museum in Manchuria that was one of the items on loan to Japan for the exhibitions carried a description tag stating that it was found in Korea. There is, of course, no proof that this is the case, and the bomb could very well have been recovered in some area of China where the Japanese dropped it during World War II, then recycled during the Korean conflict by the Communists for new propaganda purposes.
On the other hand, epidemic hemorrhagic fever—the disease with which Kitano Masaji did his best-known work—was not endemic to Korea before the Korean War, and yet more than 2,600 cases of it were reported among U.S. troops during three years of the conflict. Of these, 165 people died. When the disease first struck the U.S. Army in 1951, it was practically unknown to Western medicine. Some research on it had been carried out in the Soviet Union, but Unit 731, with all its experience in developing it as a tool for offensive warfare, was the world authority on the disease.
U.S. Army researchers looked to former Unit 731 members for help in dealing with the problem. In the Annals of Internal Medicine for 1953, Colonel Joseph H. McNinch, U.S. Army Medical Corps and Chief of Preventive Medicine, Far East Command, writes, "At this time [summer 1951], attention was directed toward a disease which the Japanese Army had encountered in Manchuria in 1939-1941, and which was written up in Japanese medical literature." In other reports, written by researchers with the U.S. Army Medical Corps, the names of some ten former Unit 731 members, including Kitano, appear.
Another U.S. Army medical officer's report on his work with former Unit 731 members and EHF includes the comment that, according to information provided by the Japanese, research in Manchuria ended with the end of World War II, and "the transmissible agent was lost at the time of surrender." If it was not lost—there was only the word of the Japanese researchers to support the claim that it was—did it reappear in Korea through some sort of secret collaboration between Occupation authorities and Japan's biological warfare experts?
This conveniently timed outbreak in Korea of a disease in which Unit 731 was the world's leading storehouse of knowledge, and other already-documented postwar cooperation between that outfit and the Americans, suggests that Unit 731 's role in the Korean War was not simply confined to controlling and curing the disease. Rather, the facts available appear to encourage the belief that the Americans, assisted by their former Japanese enemies, carried out against the North Koreans biological warfare attacks which ended up backfiring.
Meanwhile, the Manchurian bomb from China's Unit 731 museum continues posing the question of whether it is mere Red propaganda, or a relic of U.S.-Unit 731 collaboration in the Korean War.
Shinjuku Shock
In the 1980s, Tokyo decided to center its municipal functions in Shinjuku Ward, and the area experienced a construction boom of hotels and government buildings. Shinjuku represented all the well-worn compliments paid to active localities. It was growing, moving ahead, looking to the future—and then Shinjuku shocked Japan back into the past. In June 1989, large quantities of human bones were unearthed at a construction excavation site for a new facility of the Ministry of Health and Welfare. The location was at the site of the former Army Medical College, where Ishii had lectured on his experiments and displayed preserved human specimens brought in from Unit 731. Ironically, police investigations concluded that there was no violent crime involved, and plans were made to cremate the bones. At that point, however, activist citizens put pressure on the ward government to scrutinize the matter further. There was strong reason to believe that the bones were remains from Unit 731's human experiments, and some people in Japan wanted an investigation.
The citizens' group pressed the ward head to expedite identification of the bones. The ward head, in turn, asked the assistance of medical and scientific institutions within the ward, including the National Science Museum; all refused for reasons which the involved citizens interpret as government pressure.
Some two years after the discovery, Dr. Sakura Hajime, an anthropologist, retired from the National Science Museum and joined Sapporo Gakuin University, where he received permission to go ahead with the identification of the bones. On April 22, 1992, he announced his findings. The Asahi newspaper carried an article on his results the following day: the bones dated back "from several tens of, to one hundred years" earlier. Other discoveries in the course of the investigation included the facts that: the bones were from more than one hundred people; the ratio of males to females was three to one; skulls made up the major part of the remains; and the bones were "nearly all Mongoloid in origin, but of several groups, and it is highly possible that Chinese, Koreans, and Japanese are represented."
Soviet demands that Emperor Hirohito face trial for war crimes caused the Japanese great distress, as this recently (1995) released note from the Foreign Ministry to SCAP shows.
Pingfang's double chimney looms ominously over the complex grounds.
Restoration efforts are currently underway in Ping
fang, shown here in recent times.
This building had refrigeration units used for freezing human beings all year round.
Ishii Shiro himself developed the Uji-50 bacterial bomb.
China claims this bomb was dropped in Korea by the U.S. in the Korean War.
Replicas of experiments displayed at the Unit 731 Exhibition. (Above) Water is poured over the victim's limbs in subfreezing temperatures. (Below) A prisoner in a single cell is forcibly injected with pathogens. (Right) A team of doctors dissects a victim; one member weighs organs removed from the body.
Rats were raised by Youth Corps members in cells like these.
At Takatsuki, Naganuma Setsuji (detail) remembers his wartime days.
Former Unit 731 nurse Akama Masako speaks at Takatsuki. To her right is author Nishino Rumiko.
Exhibition participants explain the exhibits to visitors.
Some of the skulls had drill holes or had been cut with a saw. All of these procedures had been performed after the deaths of their subjects, suggesting that these people had been used as materials for medical instruction. Some skulls bore signs of ear surgery practice, while others bore "signs similar to brain surgery practice." The report also stated that many of the bones showed a strong possibility of previous preservation as specimens.
At a press conference reported in the same Asahi article, the ward head stated that the ethnic backgrounds of the bones could not be accurately identified, and that while the bones showed signs of use in medical instruction, no association had been established with the experiments of Unit 731. The ward's position, in conclusion, was that "since there is nobody [i.e., relatives] who can claim the remains, the ward wants to cremate them."
The citizens' group, on the other hand, interpreted Dr. Sakura's results as evidence that supported and even exceeded their suspicions, and they called for a halt to the cremation. They also demanded further investigation by the ward, the city, and the national government. Such an investigation has not materialized, but neither have the bones been burned. They currently remain in the possession of a funeral home in Shinjuku.
The episode made an impact on the international stage, as well. In December 1994, Japan asked the United States Postal Service to cancel its plans to issue a postage stamp commemorating the atomic bomb explosion over Hiroshima. Sensitive to requests to "respect Japan's national feelings," the U.S. subsequently abandoned the stamp plan, replacing it with a stamp memorializing President Harry Truman. Seizing upon this incident, China's official People's Daily newspaper published an editorial criticizing Japan for objecting to the American stamp plan while Japan itself had (and has) still not faced up to its own past aggression in China. The number of victims in the atomic bombings of Japan and in the Rape of Nanjing were about equal, the paper stated, and yet "the atomic bomb was the result of Japanese militarism, while the Rape of Nanjing was the result of Japan's invading China." The newspaper criticized the Shinjuku officials for trying to burn the bones quickly, and pointed to the activities of the Shinjuku citizens' group as an example of the mutual respect which is necessary for achieving peace. It is interesting to note that the editorial, whose tone was surprisingly non-vindictive, appeared in the newspaper's domestic edition, but not in its overseas one.
The May 1994 edition of Tokyo Journal carried an interview with Professor Tsuneishi Keiichi, the noted researcher into Unit 731, in which he spoke of family members who are interested in further identification of the remains found at the Tokyo construction site. Some, he stated, have written letters, which were personally delivered by members of the Shinjuku citizens' group to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Then, in 1993, according to Tsuneishi, members of the same citizens' group went to Harbin and invited one of the relatives to attend the Unit 731 Exhibition in Japan. With the assistance of the group, the woman whom they invited tried to visit the Ministry of Health, which refused to receive her, or allow her to view the bones.
As far back as 1945, the Japanese government has consistently denied that the Japanese army conducted human experiments and biological warfare. Admitting now that the bones are from Unit 731's victims would amount to the admission of a half-century's worth of lies. It would also raise the problem of compensation. Yet, until Japan makes some sort of concrete acknowledgment of what it did during the war, it seems consigned to permanent ostracism. In what could seem like a pathetically small act of revenge from the grave, the victims may be thought of as having returned, years after they were put to their agonizing deaths, to create minor torture for Japan's political elite.
The Unit Leaders in Peacetime
By virtue, ostensibly, of their cooperation with their American conquerors, the former leadership of Unit 731 lived relatively quietly and undisturbed in the postwar period. The freedom they enjoyed stands in stark contrast to the fates of other, better-known "Class A" war criminals, such as Prime Minister Tojo Hideki and General Yamashita Tomoyuki (known as the "Tiger of Malaya" for his conquest of British Singapore), both of whom went to the gallows. Memories of the "good war" fought by America and her allies, and the justice they meted out at Nuremburg and Tokyo, can only provoke ironic smiles when recalled in juxtaposition to the happy lives these men led after the smoke of war had cleared.
Ishii
Ishii Shiro spent his last years in relative and unwilling inactivity. He was afraid of being taken by the Soviets for war crimes, and after negotiating his way into immunity with U.S. authorities, he could not locate meaningful work. His lack of what would today be called "people skills" made him unwelcome to many of his former subordinates who had moved on to lucrative positions of respect, and preferred to distance themselves from Ishii. He wanted to work at Naito Ryoichi's company, but he was not wanted there, either.
Ishii contracted throat cancer—there were rumors of former unit members having a hand in it—and died in 1959 at sixty-nine years of age. Kitano Masaji officiated at his funeral.
Naito Ryoichi, Kitano Masaji, and Futagi Hideo
The American military action in Korea brought a demand for blood. Hearing opportunity knocking, Naito, Kitano, and Futagi decided to go into business together, establishing Japan's first blood bank in 1951. Heavy purchases by the armed forces of the United States set the company on the road to financial success. The blood bank was later named Midori Juji, or "Green Cross," and it continued along its prosperous path. It is now one of Japan's leading pharmaceutical companies, and has even moved overseas, setting up offices in the United States.
In February 1988, U.S. medical researchers identified eighteen patients in Japan who had become infected with the AIDS virus through transfusions of infected blood products exported from the United States by Green Cross. The following May, two of the infected patients brought suit against the company (and other related ones). Dr. Yamaguchi Ken'ichiro, a medical practitioner who lectures on Unit 731 and its effect on Japanese medicine today, has stated in his talks his belief that the company knowingly imported and distributed AIDS-tainted blood as part of its program for developing an AIDS vaccine. Successful development of such a medicine would mean astronomical profits. Government approval to market a new substance, however, is difficult to obtain without a history of successful use on humans.
Commenting further on connections between AIDS and biological warfare, Dr. Yamaguchi adds his voice to the chorus of those who find it hard to believe the orthodox explanation that the disease started with monkeys. It is much easier, he says, to think that it was developed in Fort Detrick as part of their ongoing biological warfare program, after which it somehow leaked out. A researcher at Fort Detrick was said to have remarked to the effect that, within ten years, the U.S. would have developed a biological weapon that would be more devastating than anything to date. Just ten years after that statement, the first AIDS case appeared. The Fort Detrick origin, says Yamaguchi, is a much more scientifically realistic explanation.
Postwar Careers: Plum Positions
One of the former unit members described Unit
731 in a postwar interview as the "best paying job" anyone could have gotten at the time. During the days when human experimentation was being carried out, researchers were paid as civilian employees of the Imperial Japanese Army. After the war, this lucrative tradition continued, as payments were made to anyone who had been in any way connected with the units. No official explanation came with the money, and the source was a matter of speculation. The most accepted version of events was that the money was from the U.S. military. It would, after all, represent a bargain sum, considering the value that Washington attached to the data it had received.
Here is a very brief list of what became of some of Unit 731's major players during the postwar years. Each person's wartime research specialty and/or unit affiliation is indicated in parentheses. An asterisk indicates that the person supported the work of Unit 731 as a civilian employee, receiving payment through the Army Laboratory in Tokyo.
Amitani Shogo* (Tokyo University Laboratory for Communicable Diseases)
Remained attached to same facility after the war and received the Asahi Prize for outstanding scientific performance