In Tokyo, ordinary people holding the line for peace

This year marks the 80th anniversary of the victory in the Chinese People's War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression (1931-45) and the World Anti-Fascist War. Since arriving in Tokyo in June, I've met many Japanese who lived through that period.

One scene has stayed with me over the past six months: At memorials, universities, protests and on the streets, those at the forefront of peace are often elderly people carrying memories that the rest of us know only from books.

That scene resurfaced on Dec 11 at an event marking the 88th anniversary of the Nanjing Massacre. The civic group No More Nanjing held its annual testimony session, presenting accounts from Chinese victims' families and former Japanese soldiers that laid bare the crimes of Japanese militarism.

Even on a weekday evening, the venue was packed — mostly with elderly attendees who had come to listen, remember, and bear witness.

Hiroshi Tanaka, born in 1937 and a co-representative of the Liaison Committee on Alien Rights Law, said Japan cannot cling to a victim-only narrative or deny its role as a perpetrator.

Understanding the war, clarifying responsibility, and preserving the memory of victims must be central to education and dialogue, Tanaka said. Only honesty about the past can enable reconciliation and lasting people-to-people exchange, he said.

"To move toward that goal, we must ensure this gathering can be held again next year."

Many of those I've met speak quietly, yet with a resolve shaped by time — a determination to keep peace from fading.

That is why Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi's recent erroneous remarks on Taiwan, and her refusal to admit wrongdoing, have been all the more jarring.

In recent weeks, former officials, scholars, lawyers and peace advocates have urged Takaichi to retract her statements. Their message was consistent: The Taiwan question is China's internal affair and brooks no external interference. Takaichi's fallacies undermine international law, shake the postwar order and erode the political foundation of bilateral relations, they warned.

What struck me was that these voices came from people who fear, more than anyone, the repetition of a past they know too well. Calm yet urgent, they called on Takaichi to withdraw her remarks, return to the principles behind the normalization of China-Japan ties, and jointly safeguard the hard-won — and vital — foundation of peace between the two countries.

I felt that same steady resolve when interviewing Takakage Fujita, secretary-general of the Association for Inheriting and Propagating the Murayama Statement, a civic group dedicated to upholding the 1995 apology that acknowledged Japan's wartime mistakes.

Before the interview, Fujita asked to read a statement, saying Takaichi's words were too serious to ignore. He later published it as a signed commentary in China Daily, titled "Japan must not repeat the path of aggression", citing international law and the China-Japan Joint Statement and urging Japan to reflect on its wartime past.

After the interview, Fujita showed me a 1979 letter written by Deng Yingchao, then vice-chairwoman of the Standing Committee of China's National People's Congress, during her visit to Japan. Addressed to Japanese politician Sadao Hirano, it thanked him for his hospitality and spoke of "the splendid springtime of China-Japan friendship", expressing hope that the relationship would continue to grow on its existing foundation.

Fujita said Hirano had asked him to find a Japanese translation to better understand its sentiment.

I've encountered similar sincerity elsewhere. After a phone interview, Hiroshi Shiratori, a political science professor at Hosei University, told me, "I hope we can work together for Japan-China friendship." In her emails, Kumiko Haba of Josai International University always adds that people-to-people exchange — especially among the young — is key to bilateral friendship.

On a November night in Ikebukuro, volunteers displayed thousands of paper cranes made by peace supporters. As I photographed them, a woman named Mukiko Matsumoto approached to explain the activity.

When she learned I was not Japanese, she bowed deeply to apologize for the suffering Japan inflicted on East Asia. Hearing that I was Chinese, she suddenly knelt — something I managed to stop — her voice trembling as she said, "I am truly sorry for what the Chinese people endured." At the busy station entrance, I found myself at a loss for words.

These six months have strengthened my conviction that a genuine and steady force within Japanese society is urging the country to cherish peace and never again slip toward the abyss of war. They may not be the loudest voices, but they are among the most important.

A single political remark can unsettle the situation and erode hard-earned trust. Yet ordinary people who continue to speak out, even in the cold and through quiet persistence, remind right-wing politicians that Japan must never again repeat the errors of militarism.

History is not written in the past tense. It still echoes, reminding us that peace is hard-won — and that protecting it requires courage and perseverance from every generation.

The author is chief correspondent at China Daily Asia-Pacific Bureau based in Tokyo.

Contact the writer at houjunjie@chinadaily.com.cn