
Back in the 2006 Holiday Issue of the Pacific Citizen, I wrote about "The Rape of Nanking," Iris Chang's famous historical account of war crimes committed by the Imperial Japanese Army against the people of China in the city of Nanking during the Sino-Japanese war. It was not only a sense of moral outrage that prompted me to write about this massacre and systematic rape of women that resulted in an estimated death toll of 260,000 people. On a more personal note, I wanted to show how wartime atrocities from the past century still has the power to effect young people of Japanese-descent like myself.
Little did I know that my one small article was a microcosmic representation of a greater international reawakening to carry on the message of the famous Chinese American author who committed suicide in November 2004. "The Rape of Nanking" was published in 1997, in conjunction with the 65th anniversary of the Nanking massacre. As this year marks the 70th anniversary of an event that still sparks intense emotions within the global community, so the collective struggle against historical amnesia continues.
Nearly two months after writing the original article, I was surprised to find that there was not only one, but many film projects in various states of completion all directly dealing with the Nanking massacre. The documentary "Nanking," which was directed by Bill Guttentag and David Sturman, the same directors of the 9/11 documentary "Twin Towers," premiered earlier this year in January at the Sundance Film Festival. The film was conceptualized and financed by AOL Vice-Chairman Ted Leonsis, who had never heard of Iris Chang or the Nanking massacre until he chanced upon an obituary of her death while he was on vacation.
Using primary sources of letters, diaries, interviews and archive footage, the film follows the lives of the handful of American and European expatriates who risked their own lives and safety to protect the Nanking residents from the Japanese soldiers. It ended up winning the Grand Jury Prize for the Documentary category. There is a chance that the documentary will eventually be released theatrically for general public consumption.
"Nanking" is not the only movie that viewers may be able to watch in light of the 70th anniversary of the Nanking Massacre. Producer Gerald Green and director Simon West ("Lara Croft: Tomb Raider") have already acquired the rights to Chang's book for a $38 million film project. Writer and producer Kevin Kent is trying to get a film made based on his own novel "Nanking" through negotiations with director Oliver Stone. Stanley Tong, the Hong Kong director of several Jackie Chan movies, award-winning Chinese director Lu Chuan and Hong Kong director Yim Ho are also linked with a production of a film about Nanking.
Nanking's bitter legacy does not only give creative material to filmmakers within the entertainment industry, It is still an ugly memory that refuses to erase itself from the lives of the surviving victims who continue to demand wartime reparations, and in current relationships between Japan and the rest of the world.
Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe's recent flat-out denial that the Japanese military forcibly recruited women into sex slavery during World War II serves as an uncomfortable reminder of convenient historical revisionism that continues to undermine possibilities of amicable international relations between China and Japan.
Meanwhile, back at UCLA, someone had set up a photo gallery in the campus coffee house dedicated to the Nanking massacre. On the walls of the indoor hallway, black and white photographs of beheadings, mutilated corpses, barbed wire and emaciated people stared down at students who stopped to look at the pictures and read the accompanying captions. These captions quoted extensively from Iris Chang's books. One label told students that these photographs were best viewed from a distance, perhaps because of their highly graphic nature.
I stopped to look. Nearly eight months had passed since I first read Iris Chang's book, but the shock of seeing these photographs still hadn't diminished a single bit.