The Rising Sun: The Decline and Fall of the Japanese Empire, 1936-1945 (Modern Library War)

by Toland, John

  (4) AS A MATTER OF PRINCIPLE, WE ARE ANXIOUS TO AVOID HAVING THIS INSERTED IN THE DRAFT OF THE FORMAL PROPOSAL REACHED BETWEEN JAPAN AND THE UNITED STATES … WITH REGARD TO THE FOUR PRINCIPLES [of Hull], EVERY EFFORT IS TO BE MADE TO AVOID INCLUDING THEM IN THE TERMS OF A FORMAL AGREEMENT BETWEEN JAPAN AND THE UNITED STATES …

  To Hull, this last example alone was convincing-enough proof of Japan’s deceitful intentions to underline his old suspicions. Actually, it was a colossal blunder. The translator had taken the “FOUR” of “FOUR PRINCIPLES” and made it point (4), concluding part of the instructions following “(1) NON-DISCRIMINATION AND TRADE,” “(2) INTERPRETATION AND APPLICATION OF THE TRIPARTITE PACT” and “(3) WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS.” By making this excerpt appear to be one of the main divisions of the message and changing “WITH REGARD TO THE FOUR PRINCIPLES” into “(4) AS A MATTER OF PRINCIPLE” and arbitrarily inserting the word “ANXIOUS,” the translator had misled Hull into believing that the Japanese were trying to avoid committing themselves to a formal agreement on any of the proposed points.

  On the evening of November 7 Nomura arrived at Hull’s apartment with Proposal A. Hull glanced through it rapidly; he already knew all about it—or thought he did—and was convinced that it contained no real concessions. His attitude was so obvious that Nomura asked for an appointment with the President. Every day was precious and the admiral was desperate. He was being pressed for a quick decision at the urging of the Japanese Chiefs of Staff; Hull was holding up the decision because the American Chiefs of Staff wanted time. This maneuvering at cross-purposes unfortunately was contributing to the deterioration of the negotiations.

  When Nomura finally got to see the President three days later he pointed out the “considerable concessions” made by Japan and reiterated the need for haste. Roosevelt must also have been mindful of Marshall and Stark’s plea for time in his reply that “nations must think one hundred years ahead, especially during the age through which the world is passing.” A mere six months had been spent in the negotiations. It was necessary to be patient; he didn’t want a temporary agreement. Nomura cabled Togo that the United States “was not entirely unreceptive” to Proposal A. The wishful-thinking admiral was ready to grab at any straw of hope.

  So was Bishop James Walsh. Just back from another trip to the Far East, he made one more attempt to bring Japan and America together in the form of a long memorandum delivered to Hull on November 15. In reading it, Hornbeck added a number of sarcastic notes for Hull which revealed his own strong bias.

  Where the bishop explained that the Emperor’s sanction of any policy was regarded by all Japanese as “the final seal that makes it the irrevocable policy of the nation,” Hornbeck noted in pencil: “If a policy sanctioned by the Emperor is ‘irrevocable,’ then the alliance with the Axis is irrevocable.” And to a long plea for understanding between the two countries, he put down: “Naive.”

  “It is perhaps worthwhile to recall,” Walsh observed, “that the Chinese were well on the way to actual collaboration with Japan when the Manchurian Incident rudely arrested the movement and turned the Chinese radically in the other direction.” Opposite this, Hornbeck penciled: “He speaks as though the Chinese had started the ‘Manchurian Incident.’ ” And when Walsh noted that “There is no real peace anywhere in the Far East today,” Hornbeck wrote down: “And for that fact who are responsible?—the Japanese (& the Germans).”

  That very day Special Envoy Saburo Kurusu arrived in Washington after a tiring trip across the country, and two days later Ambassador Nomura brought him to Hull’s office. One glance at the diminutive, bespectacled man with the neat mustache who had signed the Tripartite Pact was enough for the Secretary of State to conclude that he was not to be trusted. “Neither his appearance nor his attitude commanded confidence or respect,” Hull wrote in his memoirs. “I felt from the start that he was deceitful.… His only recommendation in my eyes was that he spoke excellent English, having married his American secretary.”

  Convinced that Kurusu was privy to his government’s trickery and would try “to lull us with talk until the moment Japan got ready to strike,” Hull escorted the two Japanese the few hundred yards to the White House. Roosevelt put himself out to be affable: “As Bryan said, there is no last word between friends.”

  Kurusu replied that a way must be found to avoid war. The Pacific was “like a powder keg.” Roosevelt agreed that a broad understanding should be reached.

  As for the Tripartite Pact, Kurusu said he didn’t see why America, “which has been a strong advocate of observance of international commitments, would request Japan to violate one.” Japanese leaders had already assured the Americans that the pact would not automatically lead to war; that would require an independent decision. Moreover, an understanding between Japan and America “would naturally ‘outshine’ the Tripartite Pact, and American apprehension over the problem of application of the pact would consequently be dissipated.” It was a step toward actual abrogation of the treaty, but Hull didn’t believe a word Kurusu said; it was merely “some specious attempt to explain away” the pact.

  Roosevelt remained friendly, and reaffirmed that there was “no difference of interest between our two countries and no occasion, therefore, for serious differences,” and even offered to act as “introducer” between China and Japan.

  3.

  That same day Prime Minister Tojo made a speech in the Diet which was also broadcast to the nation. It dealt with the negotiations in Washington and he pointed out that their success would depend on three things: America must not interfere with Japan’s solution of the China Incident; she must “refrain from presenting a direct military menace to our empire” and call off the economic blockade; and exert efforts to “prevent the extension of the European war” to East Asia.

  There was thunderous applause, whereas excellent speeches ordinarily failed to get much of a response. In the diplomatic box of the U. S. embassy, the naval attaché leaned over and whispered to his companions. An Asahi Shimbun reporter noticed this and wrote:

  … The four staff members of the American embassy suddenly went into a huddle and conversed with each other, and then all vigorously shook their heads, although no one knows what they meant by this. All others in the visitors’ gallery looked at them with fixed attention.

  What the naval attaché whispered was: “Well, he didn’t declare war, anyway.”

  Among the leaders of Japan hope dwindled as each day passed with no definite word from Washington on Proposal A. America’s attitude seemed to be stiffening on the major issues. All that remained was the last resort, and Togo cabled Nomura to present “B.” On November 20 the admiral read it to Hull, who took it as an ultimatum and in his memoirs described the conditions as “of so preposterous a character that no American official could ever have dreamed of accepting them.” But he hid his feelings to “avoid giving the Japanese any pretext to walk out of the conversations” and said he would give the proposal “sympathetic study.”

  His reaction was unfortunate and uncalled-for. Only one of Proposal B’s five conditions—the one to stop giving aid to China—was unreasonable. This paragraph aroused him so much that he made it the most vital issue. In a fit of temper he burst out, “In the minds of the American people there is a partnership between Hitler and Japan aimed at enabling Hitler to take charge of one-half the world and Japan the other half.” The Tripartite Pact strengthened the public in this belief, he added, and began to assail it vigorously.

  Nomura turned to Kurusu helplessly. Little more than a week before, Hull had admitted that the pact was not a major problem. Yet three times in the past few days he had declared that as long as Japan clung to it, a peace settlement could not be taken seriously. Why was the pact being elevated again to importance? It was almost as if nothing had changed in Japanese-American relations since the days of Matsuoka.‡

  Hull’s subordinates also had a similarly curious reaction to Proposal B. The man most sympathetic to Japan,
Joseph Ballantine, feared its acceptance would mean “condonement by the United States of Japan’s aggressions, assent by the United States to unlimited courses of conquest by Japan in the future … betrayal by the United States of China …” and “a most serious threat to American national security.”

  Such talk of aggression made little sense. The proposal adequately covered Southeast Asia and the southwest Pacific and offered peace in China. Japan could not have committed further aggression without breaking her own proposal, and if the Americans had wanted a definite pledge to stop military expansion they probably could have gotten it.

  It was not really a question of Proposal B itself, but of State Department refusal to accept it at face value. What the Japanese Army considered a major concession and had accepted only after bitter arguments—withdrawal of troops from southern Indochina to the north—was scorned by Ballantine. It was a “meaningless” offer, since the Japanese could easily return the same troops to southern Indochina “within a day or two.”

  Roosevelt, on the other hand, must have been impressed by “B” because he responded with his own modus vivendi. He wrote it out in pencil and sent it on to Hull.

  6 months

  1. U. S. to resume economic relations—some oil and rice now—more later.

  2. Japan to send no more troops to Indochina or Manchurian border or any place South—(Dutch, Brit. or Siam).

  3. Japan to agree not to invoke tripartite pact even if U. S. gets into European war.

  4. U. S. to introduce Japs to Chinese to talk things over but U. S. to take no part in their conversations.

  ————

  Later on Pacific agreements.

  This modus vivendi was further evidence that Roosevelt, unlike Hull, was a practitioner of Realpolitik, and brought about the first genuine relaxation of American rigidity, the first realistic hope for a peaceful settlement. Though it must have offended Hull’s purist nature, he dutifully began putting it into diplomatic form. Despite personal reservations about Kurusu and suspicions of his superiors back in Tokyo, he was still willing to negotiate.

  Since the talk with Hull had revealed the great importance he still attached to the Tripartite Pact, Kurusu called the following day at the State Department with a draft letter declaring that Japan was not obligated by that agreement to collaborate or co-operate in any aggression by any third power.

  … My Government would never project the people of Japan into war at the behest of any foreign power: it will accept warfare only as the ultimate, inescapable necessity for the maintenance of its security and the preservation of national life against inactive justice.

  I hope that the above statement will assist you in removing entirely the popular suspicion which Your Excellency has repeatedly referred to. I have to add that, when a complete understanding is reached between us, Your Excellency may feel perfectly free to publish the present communication.

  Neither the indirect negation of the Tripartite Pact nor the offer to publish it allayed Hull’s suspicions, which were “confirmed” a day later in an intercept from Tokyo to Nomura extending the deadline of negotiations to November 29 (Washington time).

  … THIS TIME WE MEAN IT, THAT THE DEADLINE ABSOLUTELY CANNOT BE CHANGED. AFTER THAT THINGS ARE AUTOMATICALLY GOING TO HAPPEN.

  That evening—it was Saturday, November 22—Kurusu and Nomura called at Hull’s apartment to urge a prompt reply to Proposal B. They were smiling and courteous. It was a “strain” for Hull to respond amiably, knowing what he did “of Japan’s nefarious plans” from MAGIC. “There they sat, bowing agreeably, Nomura sometimes giggling, Kurusu often showing his teeth in a grin, while through their minds must have raced again and again the thought that, if we did not say Yes to Japan’s demands, their government in a few days would launch new aggressions that sooner or later would inevitably bring war with the United States and death to thousands or millions of men.”

  Hull said, “It’s a pity that Japan cannot do just a few peaceful things to help tide over the situation.”

  Nomura was just as ill at ease. He reiterated the need for haste and pressed for an item-by-item answer.

  “There is no reason why any demand should be made on us” was the testy reply. “I am quite disappointed that despite all my efforts you are still trying to railroad through your demand for our reply.” Hull could see no reason why Tokyo couldn’t wait for a few days, but did promise to get an answer as soon as possible. This would be Monday at the earliest, since he had to consult several friendly governments with interests in the Far East. The answer Hull had in mind was his version of Roosevelt’s hastily scribbled modus vivendi.

  On Monday, November 24, Hull invited representatives of England, China, Australia and Holland to his office and passed around copies of the latest draft of the Roosevelt plan. Dr. Hu Shih, the Chinese ambassador, was troubled. Why should five thousand Japanese be allowed to remain in Indochina? Hull replied that in General Marshall’s opinion, even twenty-five thousand troops wouldn’t be a menace. “While my government does not recognize the right of Japan to keep a single soldier in Indochina,” he explained “we are striving to reach this proposed temporary agreement primarily because the heads of our Army and Navy often emphasize to me that time is the all-important question for them, and that they must be fully prepared to deal effectively with a possible outbreak by Japan.”

  The Dutch minister, Dr. Alexander Loudon, forthrightly declared that his country would support the modus vivendi, but the other three had to wait for instructions. Irked and impatient, Hull said, “Each of your governments has a more direct interest in the defense of that area of the world than this country. But your governments, through some preoccupation in other directions, do not seem to know anything about this matter under discussion. I am definitely disappointed at this unexpected development, at their lack of interest and lack of disposition to co-operate.”

  The next day Dr. Hu apologetically handed Hull a note from his Foreign Minister stating that Chiang Kai-shek had had a “rather strong reaction” to the modus vivendi and felt that America was “inclined to appease Japan at the expense of China.”

  Exasperated, Hull said America could of course kill the modus vivendi, but if so, she was “not to be charged with failure to send our fleet into the area near Indochina and into Japanese waters, if by any chance Japan makes a military drive southward.”

  Although it was dark by the time Dr. Hu left, Hull called together his staff for further discussion. He himself was strongly in favor of sending the modus vivendi to the Japanese despite the slender chance of acceptance. If nothing else, it would underline “for all time to come that we were doing everything we could to avoid war, and a Japanese rejection would serve more fully to expose their predetermined plan for conquest of the Orient.”

  Later that night a cable for Roosevelt arrived from Churchill:

  … OF COURSE, IT IS FOR YOU TO HANDLE THIS BUSINESS AND WE CERTAINLY DO NOT WANT AN ADDITIONAL WAR. THERE IS ONLY ONE POINT THAT DISQUIETS US. WHAT ABOUT CHIANG KAI-SHEK? IS HE NOT HAVING A VERY THIN DIET? OUR ANXIETY IS ABOUT CHINA. IF THEY COLLAPSE, OUR JOINT DANGERS WOULD ENORMOUSLY INCREASE….

  Obviously Chiang Kai-shek had carried his complaints to London and this subtle rebuff wore out Hull’s last patience, MAGIC had assured him that Proposal B was the last offer Japan would make and that the negotiations would definitely be terminated at the end of the month. That Tojo was prepared to make still further concessions in a sincere attempt for peace he did not know, nor would he have believed it if he had. Ever since midsummer he had been “well-satisfied that the Japanese were determined to continue with their course of expansion by force.”

  That was why Chiang’s objection and Churchill’s half-hearted endorsement, coupled with his own doubts and exhaustion from months of negotiating, caused him at this moment to shelve the modus vivendi. Instead he would offer the Japanese “a suggested program of collaboration along peaceful and mutually beneficial, progressive lines.” His assistant
s began putting this new proposal into draft form.§

  Stimson was making an entry in his diary. He described a meeting that noon of the so-called War Cabinet at the White House:

  … [Roosevelt] brought up the event that we were likely to be attacked perhaps next Monday [December 1], for the Japanese are notorious for making an attack without warning, and the question was … what we should do. The question was how we should maneuver them into the position of firing the first shot without allowing too much danger to ourselves. It was a difficult proposition. Hull laid out his general broad propositions on which the thing should be rested—the freedom of the seas and the fact that Japan was in alliance with Hitler and was carrying out his policy of world aggression. The others brought out the fact that any such expedition to the south as the Japanese were likely to take would be an encirclement of our interests in the Philippines and cutting into our vital supply of rubber from Malaysia. I pointed out to the President that he had already taken the first steps towards an ultimatum in notifying Japan way back last summer that if she crossed the border into Thailand she was violating our safety and that therefore he had only to point out [to Japan] that to follow any such expedition was a violation of a warning we had already given.ǁ

  The following day, November 26, Secretary of the Treasury Henry Morgenthau, Jr., arrived at the White House just as Roosevelt was starting his breakfast. The phone rang before the President could eat his kippered herring. It was Hull, who told of the Chinese protests to the modus vivendi. “I will quiet them down,” Roosevelt said and went back to his breakfast. By now it was cold, so he pushed it aside, inspiring Morgenthau to jot down in his notes: “I don’t think the President ought to see me or anybody else until he has finished his breakfast.”