Portrayals of the Enemy During the Pacific War:

Let us now consider some aspects of the way each side (the U.S. vs. Japan) represented the other during the Pacific War and why. Although Japanese wartime images of the United States during the war and U.S. images of Japan may seem similar at first glance, there were significant differences of approach and emphasis.

Before we get into the details consider the following question: what was the main point of portraying the enemy in a striking fashion in public displays (e.g., posters, billboards, magazine ads, etc.)? Without giving it much thought, many people tend to assume that the main intent behind these portrayals was to encourage soldiers to fight harder. Soldiers, however, were not the primary intended audience, and, moreover, soldiers in battle would need little or no motivation beyond what battlefield conditions already supply. Because modern wars are wars between entire societies, not just opposing armies or navies, and because of the critical importance of industrial production, most images of the enemy sought to *motivate civilian workers* first and foremost. The state would, of course, want a dedicated conscientious workforce as well as a cooperative citizenry who adhere to rationing restrictions, conserve resources, and otherwise contribute to the war effort. Portrayals of the enemy, therefore, typically sought to demonstrate both  the *urgency and the righteousness* of the war effort. Naturally, the enemy would be portrayed as evil and threatening, and, by explicit or implicit contrast, one's own side would appear virtuous. There are many ways to broadcast these messages, some more convincing or emotionally gripping than others--which leads to the issue of rhetorical strategies for portraying one's self in contrast to one's enemy. We start with the United States looking at Japan and then reverse the process.

For wartime imagery generated in the United States, the overall emphasis was on *denigrating* and vilifying the enemy rather than specifically glorifying the U.S. In other words, that the United States was glorious and righteous in its pursuit of the war was not a point in need of any serious persuasion. On the other hand, being isolated from the actual fighting, civilian complacency tended to be the main obstacle to maximum production. An emphasis on the evil nature of the enemy, therefore, was one way to help combat this complacency. (Another way, used only in the latter half of the war, was the carefully controlled display of #dead U.S. soldiers.#) In both Japan and the U.S., war-related imagery, both public and private, was censored. Both civilian and military agencies conducted this censorship, and, in the United States, both private companies and government agencies like the Office of War Information cooperated to present to the public a particular set of messages and images without the interference of mixed messages from "improper images" (such as #grotesque-looking deaths# or #wasted deaths#) . For a close look at U.S. visual experience during the war, see George H. Roeder, Jr., #The Censored War: American Visual Experience During World War Two.# (To see a set of censored images, but without an explanation of why they were censored, #click here# to start.)

The typical civilian in the wartime United States would have been bombarded with visual images, especially posters, which were much more common then than now. Even a quick perusal of typical portrayals of the enemy in such posters indicates that Japan was consistently portrayed differently from Germany and Italy. In the case of Japan, the emphasis was always on the alleged physical appearance of "the Japanese," with an emphasis on the *face.* In the case of Germany, the enemy was almost never "the Germans." Instead, it was Hitler and his Nazi party. The same for Italy and Mussolini. In the case of Japan, although occasionally one finds an image that seems roughly to resemble the emperor or Prime Minister Tôjô, more commonly it is a *general stereotype* that stands as much for "the Japanese" as a whole as for any particular leader or set of leaders. Interestingly, during the First World War, it was common for the allies, including eventually the United States to portray *"the Germans" ("the Huns")* as inherently evil, and it was rare to see a specific image of the Kaiser. During the Second World War, however, allied image makers explicitly rejected this approach (vilifying a whole people) as excessive and thus unconvincing--at least in the case of Europe. For Japan, however, the WWI-style approach was the norm.

Although Japan's alliance with Germany was one of convenience and not based on any genuine admiration for Hitler, it was common for U.S. imagery, especially early in the war, to portray Japan as a *second-rate imitator* of Nazi Germany. Indeed, in such images, it is almost as if Japan is *aping Germany,* which was no accident. *Simian* imagery was the most common way of depicting "the Japanese" in U.S. eyes. This imagery consisted of several sub-types: 1) the sneaky, back-stabbing monkey;  2) the not-fully-evolved-human-ish ape;  3) the superhuman, King Kong-like ape;  and 4) the pathetic, comical monkey.

Throughout the war, but especially in its early phases, the image of Japan and its people as *treacherous back-stabbers* could be found in abundance. One reason for this image was undoubtedly the lingering trauma from Japan's unexpected (at least for the general population--top military officials were certain at the time that Japan would attack the United States somewhere) and apparently successful attack on Pearl Harbor. Sneaky in the *worst sense* of the word for most Americans. But the idea of Japan as an inscrutable, "Oriental" land whose people are fundamentally different from "normal" westerners was also a deeply-rooted legacy of Orientalist thinking. Indeed, there are many both in Japan and outside it who tend to think this way even today. In any case, this image of sneaky, inscrutable treachery fit in perfectly with the monkey metaphor.

Closely related was the image of Japanese as something *less than fully-developed humans.* More specifically, relying on the general image of humans having evolved from apes, Japanese were likened to apes to stress their being less-than-fully-developed-humans. This image worked particularly well for portraying Japanese as cruel savages, devoid of human empathy or the moral values of human civilization. Because of these irrational, cruel, and animal-like tendencies, extermination was *a necessity*--"just like shooting a rabid dog in your neighborhood" explained one wartime film.

Closely connected with the image of inhuman cruelty was that of *super-human strength.* This image was common during the first year of the the war owing to early Japanese successes. At the same time that Japan moved to attack Pearl Harbor, it attacked U.S., British, and Dutch territories in south Asia. The Philippines, Singapore, the Dutch East Indies, and more fell in rapid succession. Indeed, the British commander of Singapore, surrendered almost as soon as he realized that a Japanese army had arrived, so powerful had the fear and mythology of the Japanese superman become by then. What is particularly amazing about this superman image was that just a few months earlier, it was common for British and American military and civilian officials to speak contemptuously of Japanese as "toy makers" who could not possibly prevail against a "modern" (code for "white") military like ours. Truly Harold Isaacs hit the nail on the head with his metaphor of "scratches on our minds" to characterize the superficial, and thus rapidly changeable, images of Asia so common in the west.

"Ah, it was all a nightmare. They really are a bunch of inept, bow-legged toy makers who can't do any thing right when it comes to sophisticated military operations!" One can sense this sort of statement in the visual imagery characteristic of the second half of the Pacific War when Japan's army and navy were in retreat. Recall the imbalance in the Japanese military whereby many more soldiers fought in the front lines than could be supported by the sparse logistics and supply structure. This imbalance in part contributed to the superman image, for it gave Japan's armies greater striking power than expected in early battles. But the cost was a lack of sustainability. Recall that Japan's leaders had gambled on sending the United States reeling with sudden, decisive defeats, after which they predicted (hoped) that the soft and lazy American people would demand an end to the war. The first part of the plan went as predicted, but when the United States continued to fight, Japan's over-extended forces began to suffer one defeat after another. Although Japanese soldiers often fought very hard, they lacked basic supplies, heavy weapons, air and sea cover, reserve troops, and so forth, dooming their efforts to withstand the allied counter-offensive that began in 1943. Therefore, American images of Japan from this period of the war tend to depict almost *comically pathetic* monkeys, who, while hostile, lack the power to do any serious harm.

Fear, of course, is always a potential motivator, and U.S. images frequently played upon the idea of a *fearsome enemy.* One very specific fear was connected with working habits. To at least some extent, the Japanese image of lazy Americans addicted to luxury was also a worry of U.S. image makers creating propaganda for domestic consumption. More than anything else, American workers were urged to work hard and carefully. One way of doing so was to emphasize how days off, broken tools, shoddy products, etc. quite literally functioned to lend the enemy a helping hand. And to drive the message home even more, American workers were reminded of the "hordes" of fanatical Japanese workers across the Pacific. Here is a sampling of *typical images.*

In the halls of congress and among specialists in international affairs, an interesting variety of fear emerged: the yellow peril. Even in the popular press, amidst Japan's many victories early in the war, it was common to speak of "Jap hordes" and to label Japan the *"yellow peril."* In part, this image of "hordes" was a close relative of the superhuman ape mentioned above. But it also provides a glimpse of more complex fear among some Americans of the classic yellow peril scenario. *In this vision,* China's will or means to resist Japan would give out and China would surrender, in effect, going over to Japan's side. Japan would then lead Asia in a "race war" (a common term at the time) that might last decades and in which the stakes were total annihilation. Many in congress invoked this hellish scenario in an effort to persuade colleagues to vote in favor of lifting restrictions on Chinese immigration and renouncing the unequal treaties with China. Jiang, ever the wily politician, became aware of these American fears and occasionally dropped hints that he was considering surrendering in order to extract more goods, services, and money from the United States.

Congressional debates in 1942 revealed that Chinese were explicitly singled out by name as undesirable immigrants in fifteen different federal laws, and that was just the beginning of a vast pattern of official hostility toward Chinese that had been in effect since 1882. These anti-Chinese laws and practices were now an embarrassment to America's esteemed ally. For many in congress, undoing them was not so much a matter of doing the right thing in the abstract. Instead, they sought to avoid a situation potentially much worse than the present war. And Japanese propaganda makers were quick to jump on the issue of U.S. policy toward China, as Dower points out:

Once this issue started unraveling, there seemed no end to it. As can be easily imagined, Japanese propagandists found the debate valuable ammunition in their appeals to other Asians, and the campaign to revise the [Chinese] exclusion laws gained many alarmed adherents whose primary concern was to "spike" Japan's propaganda guns. At times, the issue thus took on an almost surreal dimension, with criticism of laws in the United States providing ammunition for the Japanese, which in turn provided further ammunition for the critics of the laws. Where the target was so vulnerable, the Japanese scored well. They informed their Asian audiences not only about the exclusion policy itself, but also about the harassment of Chinese at detention centers (where, a Tokyo broadcast to China declared, they were "practically treated like a class apart from the rest of humanity"), the social pressures that forces Chinese into ghettoized "Chinatowns" in the poorer residential areas, and the discrimination that relegated most of them to "the most menial of occupations, despised and mistreated and at best patronizingly tolerated with a contemptuous humor. (Dower, War Without Mercy,  p. 167)

Dower continues his analysis of congressional debates as follows:

In this manner, a rather arcane debate about immigration laws soon came to involve the old visions of the Yellow Peril, but now in a concrete setting that pointed to the way in which China might tip the scales one way or another in a global conflagration. "If this war or its aftermath develops into a race struggle there will be about half a billion more people on the side of the colored races than on our side," declared Representative John Vorys of Ohio in a typical speech on the subject. "In such a crisis the fact that the most numerous colored race on earth has had unique relations of friendship with the United States, that single fact, may prove the salvation of the white race." Vorys' colleague in the House, Carl Curtis of Nebraska, spoke in a similar vein: "Suppose the Chinese do capitulate and join Japan, then all Asia is apt to go with her. Then you will have a race struggle in which we are hopelessly outnumbered that will last, not for 1 year or 5 years, but throughout the generations to come." Walter Judd, who had just recently been elected to the House after ten years as a medical missionary in China, agreed that the future hinged on China: "There cannot be a great war between the white and colored races in the next 10 years, or the next 100 years, or the next 300 years, if we keep ourselves--the white people--and the Chinese, the largest and strongest of the colored people, on the same side--the side of freedom and democracy." . . . (pp. 168-169)

With arguments such as these, congress did repeal anti-Chinese laws and revoke the unequal treaties in 1942 and 1943. At least in this very limited sense, Japan did manage to liberate China through its pursuit of warfare.

Let us now reverse the perspective and examine the major aspects of Japanese wartime images of the United States. The purpose of these images was the same: to encourage civilian sacrifice, diligence, and *production* by glorifying Japan's war aims and vilifying the enemy. There were, however, some major differences in rhetorical strategies. First, at least until the last year or so of the war, Japanese images often emphasized *celebrate the superiority* of *Japan's people* and soldiers, with denigration of the enemy being present but less prominent. Japanese liked to portray themselves as *morally superior* to the decadent Americans and British. This alleged moral superiority often led to overtones of cultural superiority.

When the enemy was the explicit subject matter of images, it was typically the enemy leaders Churchill and Roosevelt, not "the British" or "the Americans" who were singled out for criticism. Caricatures of enemy leaders employed the metaphor of the oni, a creature in Japanese folklore often translated as "devil" or "demon." Oni resemble humans, but with claws instead of hands and with horns protruding from their heads. They are powerful creatures, generally to be feared. Under the right circumstances, however, oni could also use their powers to bring about desirable results. Japanese cartoonists typically used the oni image or other metaphors to criticize U.S. and British hypocrisy and deceit. This theme, plus that of Japan fighting to liberate Asia, were the two predominant motifs in wartime imagery.

In *this cartoon,* which urges the people of Asia to rise up against their oppressors, the ABCD powers (but without Holland depicted) tramp arrogantly across the downtrodden peoples of Asia even though the ABCD submarine has been badly damaged. The basic message is to strike while the iron is hot, for your oppressors have sustained much damage and are relatively weak. Aimed at the people of India, *this cartoon* contains a similar message. Notice that John Bull appears to be human, but, if you look carefully, you will notice two horns protruding from his head. Japanese images of enemy leaders often made the point that while they appear to be decent human beings, such appearances are but a deceptive masquerade. Under the surface, they are beasts (oni) seeking power, money, and aggrandizement--with the peoples of Asia as their victims. Titled, *"Horse's Legs, Badger's Tail,"* this early 1942 cartoon shows the Japanese military revealing the truth about Churchill and Roosevelt. Clad in the pious garb of padres, Japanese planes show Churchill to be a cunning badger (tanuki in Japanese--a badger-like creature who is a notorious trickster) clothed in death. Roosevelt has the backside of a horse (an indication of evil in Japanese folklore) and is clothed in dollars. Notice the crucifixes of these two, which are held like daggers. Such imagery would have been quite convincing to Japanese viewers, and contained a grain (or perhaps more than a grain) of truth as well.

Japanese images were sometimes quite sophisticated. One of the best examples is *"Vespers,"* based on the Millet's famous painting, *The Angelus.* "Vespers" makes much the same point as we have already seen: that the Anglo-Americans are pious-acting hypocrites, whose imperialism has led to death and destruction throughout Asia. Notice their baby Jiang in the basket. That the cartoon is based on a famous French painting from the 19th century is remarkable in part for its use of "high" culture in producing wartime propaganda. Would the same approach have worked in the United States? Possibly, but only with careful selection from a limited number of especially famous works. Certainly The Angelus would not have been well known (or known at all) to the average American.

"Vespers" also reflects a more significant point: for better or worse, Japanese society was and had been thoroughly drenched in most forms of western culture. There was no denying that Japan had taken much from the west since the Meiji years. Therefore, Japanese wartime propaganda had to be more circumspect in how it approached its critique of western societies and culture. It could not simply show a "western"-looking face or facial stereotype and expect it on its own to convey a sense of evil. Certainly the west and its culture was to be criticized, but simply declaring it all to be absurd or worse would also be to criticize Japanese culture, at least in part. One approach was to criticize specific westerners like Churchill and Roosevelt. Another was to criticize specific aspects of western culture deemed undesirable--but not the whole thing. *"Purging One's Head of Anglo-Americanisms"* is a good example. Here, a woman combs particles of dandruff out of her hair, which, upon falling onto a piece of paper, form the words like "Anglo-American thinking," "individualism," "money worship," "hedonism," "extravagance," and others.

"Purging One's Head. . . " points to another theme in Japanese wartime imagery: purity and purification. The war itself was an opportunity for Japanese to purify their society, which, certainly included the elimination of select foreign cultural influences. More broadly, sacrifice of any kind on behalf of the war effort was often portrayed as contributing to moral and spiritual purity as members of the national family. And, of course, the war was fought to purify Asia of imperialism, even if doing so meant replacing one outside overlord with another--Japan. The sun was always a potent image of enlightenment and purification in modern Japanese images, and so it is no surprise to find it in a similar role in wartime images. *This example* is typical. Here, the purifying rays of the sun drive out the once-mighty ABCD powers, who now appear pathetic and shocked.

As the war entered its last desperate year, the relative sophistication and emphasis on ideological principles and self-glorification discussed above tended to give way to *cruder images* of an *inhuman enemy* who was quite literally pounding on Japan's own door in the form of bombing raids over major- and medium-sized cities. Japan also increased its reliance on manpower in the form of children on loan from their schools to work in factories, and laborers brought in from Korea and other colonies. At the very end of the war the army even began conscripting Koreans, and it had been recruiting and later conscripting from among *Taiwanese* throughout much of the war.

Japanese had been making sacrifices from the very start of hostilities in 1937, when the government launched its *"Spiritual Mobilization Drive."* By the time the U.S. and Britain entered the war, the press to conserve every scrap of valuable material had become severe. Buddhist temples often donated their metal objects to be melted down. Radiators in buildings met the same fate, for, after all, heated buildings are for soft, lazy folk like our enemies. Street lights and all other non-essential metal objects soon became scrap to feed the war industries. Schools and other organizations launched drives to collect metal toys from children for the same purpose. Posters admonished Japanese not to waste a single nail. Signs in local neighborhoods admonished women with perms or fancy hair styles to keep out--such resources wasters were not fit to walk down the streets of patriotic neighborhoods. *Click here* for a set of typical examples.