The stolen spirits of Yasukuni

Editor's note: Zhang Wan is a current affairs commentator. The article reflects the author's opinions and not necessarily those of CGTN.

Recently, some families of World War II (WWII) victims in the Republic of Korea (ROK) have filed a lawsuit, demanding that Japan's Yasukuni Shrine remove their ancestors' names. As we all know, Yasukuni Shrine is where the 14 Class-A war criminals trialed by the International Military Tribunal after WWII are enshrined. What's worse, it forces the victims of Japanese aggression to rest alongside them.

To put this in a Western perspective, imagine a memorial that enshrined Adolf Hitler alongside the names of Jewish Holocaust victims. Such a concept would be universally condemned. It would be an insult not only to history but also to the dignity of those who suffered. Yet this is precisely what happens at the Yasukuni Shrine, an institution that glorifies war criminals while appropriating the names of the colonized and the aggressed, forcing them into eternal silence beside their oppressors. The pain inflicted is not merely historical, it is an ongoing act of ethical violence.

And, this trauma also resonates deeply with people in China's Taiwan region. For decades, a group representing ethnic minorities in Taiwan led by Kao Chin Su-mei have been fighting to remove their ancestors' names from the Yasukuni Shrine. Kao's mother was a member of Taiwan's Atayal tribe. The group's demand is simple: Their ancestors do not belong in a shrine that glorifies their oppressors.

Kao said "We wish to make it clear that we are not Japanese. We demand that the Yasukuni Shrine respects our human and cultural rights. We call for the removal of our ancestors' names from its registers so that we may bring their spirits home."

Japan's response has been consistent: silence, dismissal and obstruction. When Kao's group attempted to get close to the Yasukuni in 2005, they were blocked by Japanese police. Some media reports from that time showed that Japanese police, stationed with rifles, forbade all Taiwan's indigenous representatives from leaving the bus. While granting Japanese media access for interviews and filming, journalists from Taiwan accompanying the "Spirit Retrieval Delegation" were prevented from disembarking to conduct their work. This led to a physical altercation between journalists from Taiwan and the police.

Amid the delegation's protests, the Japanese authorities eventually permitted only the delegation's representative, Kao Chin Su-mei, to step off the bus. Upon doing so, Kao was moved to tears, saying "They (Japanese) bullied our ancestors like this in 1895, and they are still bullying us now."

Her words still ring true today. During WWII, the aborigines of Taiwan were forcibly conscripted by the Imperial Japanese Army for its colonial expansion. The army used these indigenous people in special forces operations, as they were viewed as being more physically capable of operating in Southeast Asia's tropical and sub-tropical regions than ethnic Japanese, and, coming from a hunter-gatherer culture, the locals could also operate with minimal logistics support.

Why has Japan no moral standing to speak on Taiwan? Because its own history in Taiwan is about colonial violence, cultural erasure and unatoned crimes.

"When the Japanese entered Taiwan and encountered resistance in the mountainous regions, they adopted a 'divide-and-conquer' strategy, pitting indigenous tribes against each other to weaken their collective power. Some photos show rows of severed heads. These were the result of this policy – heads taken by some indigenous groups from rival tribes and presented to the Japanese as trophies, a method used to facilitate colonial control," a descendant of the Wushe survivors Mona Bawan recalled.

For 50 years, from 1895 to 1945, Japan ruled Taiwan with a brutal hand. The Japanese frantically pillaged the resources of Taiwan, forcing the indigenous people into the mountains to log timber, as only they could navigate the steep, high-altitude terrain with the necessary agility. Vast quantities of Taiwan's precious trees were looted and shipped to Japan.

Mona Bawan added that they treated the forced laborers brutally, extending even to pregnant women and those who had just given birth, who were driven into the mountains to work. The felled logs could not be dragged; they had to be carried on shoulders to prevent any damage to the wood and preserve its quality. This suffering left people unable to tend their fields, completely disrupting their daily lives and rhythms. Furthermore, the Japanese forbade us from practicing our traditional religious beliefs.

The lands of indigenous people were seized, their languages banned, their traditions suppressed. They were labeled "savages," and their resistance was met with overwhelming force.

Another descendant of the Wushe survivors Takun Walis explained that guns were their tools for daily life and for defending their homeland. After the Japanese invaded Taiwan, they started to disarm the people. Those who refused to surrender their guns were executed on the spot. In one tribe, all 130 people were massacred. They used Japanese military swords to train new recruits – in beheading. Their police outposts were built beautifully, with materials that locals were forced to cut and haul from the mountains. They even forced indigenous people to carry food supplies for the Japanese on their backs from deep within the forests. The suffering was immense.

Japanese colonial authorities erected electrified fences and blockades around a small mountain community in central Taiwan – Wushe, mobilized military and police forces for violent suppression, and established institutions such as the "indigenous children's education centers" to implement a pacification education aimed at assimilating local children.

Between 1896 and 1930, the indigenous people of Taiwan made more than 150 attempts at armed resistance against Japanese rule. One key event in this anti-colonial campaign was the Wushe Incident of 1930, involving the Seediq ethnic group, led by chief Mona Rudao.

"No true person could live with that disgrace. We'd rather die than accept it. This was a road we had to walk. We chose to make a last stand, to fight them to the last breath. That way, at least, I could answer to myself, to my ancestral spirits and to my ancestors," Mahung Pawan, the great-granddaughter of Mona Rudao said.

Mona Rudao and his tribal warriors mounted their resistance at strategic mountain passes, holding out for weeks. When their ammunition and supplies were exhausted, Mona Rudao took his own life in a cave. Under extreme pressure, hundreds of indigenous people followed in a collective suicide.

The Seediq people rose up not to win a war, but to reclaim their dignity. In their words, they fought to "regain their faces as men." Japan's retaliation was merciless: They slaughtered nearly a thousand Seediq. This was not a battle; it was a massacre designed to crush a people's spirit.

Decades later, Japan committed another act of violence: spiritual theft. The same colonial power that crushed the ethnic communities later enshrined their descendants at the Yasukuni Shrine, recasting them as loyal subjects of the Japanese Emperor. This was the ultimate hypocrisy: first taking their lives, then stealing their memory.

Japan's colonial violence did not end in 1945. It continues today in the form of historical denial and spiritual appropriation.

The lawsuits in ROK and Kao Chin Su-mei's protests are part of the same struggle: a demand for truth, restitution and the right to mourn freely. They are reminders that Japan has never fully confronted its imperial past, and until it does, its words on Taiwan are not just irrelevant, they are profoundly hypocritical.

True respect for Taiwan begins with acknowledging this dark history, offering a sincere apology and making amends. It does not begin with Japan's political posturing that conveniently ignores the blood in the soil and the stolen souls in its shrines. Until Japan faces its own past with honesty and humility, its words on Taiwan will remain empty, cynical and utterly disqualified.

Wu Qian, a spokesperson for the Ministry of National Defense, underscores that it is highly alarming to the international community that Japan has repeatedly breached its "peace constitution" and "exclusive defense" pledges in recent years, significantly raising defense expenditure and acquiring long-range strike capabilities. Its accelerating military build-up truly demands the vigilance and collective opposition of peace-loving nations globally, particularly those victimized by past Japanese militarism.

Makoto Konishi, a Japanese military commentator analyzed that Japan has rapidly increased its defense spending to 2 percent, 2.5 percent, or even 3 percent of its GDP, accelerating its path toward remilitarization at an alarming rate. Historically opposed to nuclear armament, Japan's stance has now shifted to discussions and even considering the possibility of acquiring nuclear weapons.

The erroneous remarks made by Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi are highly dangerous. Merely retracting statements or issuing apologies is far from sufficient. Without fundamentally halting this trajectory of militarization, a complete resolution to the issue remains unattainable.

A genuine commitment to regional peace today in Asia requires Japan's concrete actions: halting military expansion, abandoning nuclear ambitions and confronting history with honesty – not enshrining it with hypocrisy.

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