The World's Most Controversial Museum.

There’s no shortage of controversial museums out there.

The Royal Museum for Central Africa in Belgium, for example, is heavily criticised for how it portrays its nation’s colonial rule of the Congo—with many accusing it of rose-tinted revisionism. And similarly, the British Museum draws no small amount of critique for how it came about some of its collection. The Benin Bronzes, as an example—looted from their titular Kingdom, after an 1897 British punitive expedition.

But, are they the most controversial museums out there?

Well, such a matter is rather subjective of course, but if you ask us—nope, they are not. And they aren’t even close to being, because buried in the heart of Central Tokyo, just down the road from the Imperial Palace, lies something… MORE.

A museum so egregious, that it doesn’t just get protested, doesn’t just get vandalised, but gets BOMBED.

See what we mean? Say what you like about the Royal Museum for Central Africa, and the British Museum—as indeed you should—but as far as backlash to a museum goes, that is just a whole other league, isn’t it?

Let’s find out why…

A Point of Pedantry

A point of pedantry to get us started—because before we get into the controversies properly, we need to clarify what we are ACTUALLY talking about.

You see, there are actually two different ‘names’ for the museum in question that people use, sometimes even interchangeably: The ‘Yūshūkan’, and the ‘Yasukuni’… and only one of them is correct.

As for which, that would be the ‘Yūshūkan’; that’s the museum you pay your 1,000 Yen—about 6 USD—to enter. If you were wondering too, ‘Yūshūkan’ translates as ‘Hall of Learning from the Virtuous’.

Just to make it confusing, however, the ‘Yasukuni’ absolutely IS a place, and it’s on the exact same site in Chiyoda, Tokyo, as the Yūshūkan in fact.

Basically, the Yasukuni is a shrine—the name translating as—‘Shrine for National Peace’—that exists to “commemorate and honour” people who “dedicated their precious lives to their country,” to quote their own website.

They are symbiotic things, ultimately. They stand on the same complex, directly aside one another, are accessed by the same main path—this very one in fact—and are even both owned and operated by the Religious Corporation of Yasukuni Jinja, currently headed by Chief Priest Umio Otsuka.

Like we say, it’s a point of pedantry, we know, but because we ARE going to be talking about the controversies of them both today—they’re joined at the hip as we say, so you really can’t look at one without looking at the other—we just wanted to make that distinction nice and early, lest we spend the rest of the episode conflating the shrine, the museum, and which controversy belongs to which.

And speaking of controversy, back to the matter at hand today—because whatever could make a museum, as well as the pretty shrine adjacent to it, such a source of controversy?

Well… remember earlier when we said that ‘Yūshūkan’ translates as ‘Hall of Learning from the Virtuous’… yeaaaah… there was a clue there that the history enjoyers amongst you all may well have already picked up on…

The Issues

For the history not enjoyers in the audience, however, here’s a TL;DR:

Japan’s conduct in WWII wasn’t exactly what you would call clean—quite the opposite, in fact; it was downright barbaric.

Back then, you see, Imperial Japan was trying to create what it called the ‘Greater East Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere’—but what everyone called the ‘Japanese Empire’. And while trying to do so, it invaded over 20 countries, colonies, and territories, looted them wholesale, forced women into sexual slavery, forced men into the ‘regular’ kind of slavery, brutalised prisoners of war and civilians alike, and even conducted all manner of truly stomach-churning human experiments on those unlucky enough to find themselves annexed under the Banner of the Rising Sun.

Seeing the problem with the museum being called the ‘Hall of Learning from the VIRTUOUS’ now?

And indeed, the reverence of Imperial Japan’s war dead is very literal there too, as at the rear of the museum lies a ‘Hall of Remembrance’ where hundreds, possibly even THOUSANDS of individual memorial plaques are hung, each and every one of them with this character beside their name… which, in this context, is an archaic honourific that casts the dead as revered, quasi-sacred, enshrined figures—a ‘venerated soul’, basically.

But war is a morally complex thing of course, not every Japanese soldier was complicit in crimes against humanity, just as every one of their American adversaries was not a saint. See, as example, Ueno Shūzō and Iguchi Kiyoshi—both just ordinary conscripts, whose names return not even a single hit in any war crime database.

And if that was where the matter ended, we’d be good. A review of the phrasing might still be in order, admittedly, but because of the moral complexity, it wouldn’t be egregious per se—all casualties in war are a tragedy, it’s not like they actually did anything heinous, blah blah blah, etc etc.

BUT, that isn’t where it ends… because this chap is also on the wall as one of those venerated souls. And if you don’t know who he is, he would be Hideki Tojo, who, in his exactly 40 years of service to the Imperial Japanese Army, committed an absolute litany of crimes against humanity that included, but is not limited to:

The Bataan Death March of April 1942, where surrendered American and Filipino troops were forced on a brutal march without adequate food or water, with men unlucky enough to fall behind being beaten, bayoneted, shot, or simply left to die.

The building of a prisoner-of-war system under the War Ministry that pushed captives and civilian internees into forced labour for Japan’s war effort, under conditions of starvation, disease, and beatings.

The ‘Coercive Parole Regime’, which saw prisoners who refused to sign oaths starved, confined, beaten, or tortured until they complied—with 16,000 prisoners in Singapore being held without food or latrine facilities for four days to force their signatures.

See what we mean? A genuine monster of a human being if ever there was one… and yet… NO. According to the Yūshūkan, he’s a “venerated soul”—how lovely.

We had wanted to give you a gross figure of how many of his ilk are commemorated so, but unfortunately, no such tally exists—but just from Tojo alone, you get the idea.

And the situation in the museum actually gets worse too, if you can believe it. Because do you think a museum that takes… that approach to commemoration, is actually going to explain history—and Japan’s actions therein—correctly?

No, of course they aren’t going to. Cognitive dissonance is a powerful force indeed—but even then, there is only so much bare faced contradiction a human belief set can tolerate before something has to give. And in Yūshūkan’s case, it ended up being the truth that gave way for the sake of the fantasy.

Consider, as an example, this explanatory panel we captured, which reads, quote:

“The Nanking Incident: After the Japanese surrounded Nanking in December 1937, (General) Matsui Iwane distributed maps to his men with foreign settlements and the safety zone marked in red ink. Matsui told them that they were to maintain strict military disciplines and that anyone committing unlawful acts would be severely punished. … The Chinese soldiers disguised in civilian clothes were severely prosecuted.”

Those of you in the know have probably already launched whatever device you are viewing this on at a wall in pure rage after hearing that. But for those of you not in the know, allow us to inform you that what you just heard is an outright LIE. Not a simple ‘best foot forward’, or ‘selective of which details we include but what’s there is technically not incorrect’ retelling of events, but a near COMPLETE fabrication.

For context, here’s how that panel should be written for honesty… also using the correct contemporary transliteration of NanJING, rather than the old, outdated transliteration of NanKING:

“The Rape of Nanjing: After Japanese forces captured Nanjing in December 1937, discipline collapsed and mass atrocity followed. Although General Matsui Iwane had issued orders about discipline, those orders were ignored, unenforced, or proved meaningless in practice. Over the following weeks, Japanese troops carried out mass executions of prisoners and civilians alike, as well as widespread rape, looting, and arson across the city.

At places like Xiaguan, huge numbers of trapped Chinese soldiers—and civilians caught up among them—were also killed. Japanese forces rounded up large numbers of men as alleged soldiers ‘disguised’ in civilian clothes, often with little or no real attempt to distinguish actual combatants from civilians, and many were taken away and summarily shot. It was the Rape of Nanjing—and all told, perhaps as many as 350,000 civilians and prisoners of war may have been murdered.”

See what we mean? The Yūshūkan’s version of events is based VERY vaguely on the most slight semblance of truth, sure, but in all, it is a fabrication—simple as.

There are more instances of them lying too—such as this one, which reads, quote:

“The Manchurian Incident (September 1931): Resentment toward the overtly anti-Japanese policies of Zhang Xueliang’s government, and dissatisfaction with the Japanese government’s conciliatory approach to China, smouldered among Japanese residents in Manchuria. … Subsequent to the incident, the Kwantung Army helped establish Manchukuo, installing Pu Yi, the last Emperor of the (Qing) Dynasty, as head of state.”

And if that were correctly written, it would say something along the lines of this:

“The Mukden Incident: In September 1931, officers of Japan’s Kwantung Army staged an explosion near Mukden, and used it as the pretext for military action—rapidly seizing Mukden and then the rest of Manchuria.

The blast caused only slight damage to the South Manchurian Railway. Trains could still pass, and the incident is widely regarded as having been contrived by the Japanese army, acting without approval from Japan’s civil government, to justify invasion and occupation.

In March 1932, Japan then proclaimed Manchukuo an ‘independent’ state, but it was in reality a Japanese puppet state controlled by the Kwantung Army and used as a base for further expansion in China. Pu Yi, the one-time boy Emperor of Imperial China, was installed by Japan first as Chief Executive, and later in 1934, as Emperor of Manchukuo.”

See the difference? In reality, an act of imperialistic expansion as flagrant as they come. In Yūshūkan’s retelling, ‘we were the victims, time skip, we helped create a nation that totally wasn’t a puppet state, trust us bro’.

And by way of a third example, how about this one, which reads:

“The Boxer Rebellion: The Western powers … competed with each other, making naked imperialistic demands on the Chinese who had revealed their weakness during the Sino-Japanese War. They then expanded their spheres of influence. The Boxers began as an anti-foreign and anti-imperialist peasant-based movement. Incensed at the Western encroachment and supported by the Qing government, the group laid siege to foreign legations in Beijing … The Japanese troops advanced and carried out the rescue operations as the main contingent of the international force.”

Were that drafted accurately, it would read something like this:

“The Boxer Rebellion: After the Sino-Japanese War, Japan had become one of the many foreign powers seeking territory, privileges, and influence in China. The Boxer Rebellion was an anti-foreign, anti-Christian uprising that emerged amid growing resentment toward these encroachments.

Elements of the Qing court supported the Boxers, and foreign legations in Beijing were besieged. Japan then joined Russia, Britain, the United States, France, Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Italy in an Eight-Nation Alliance that invaded Northern China to relieve the siege and defend foreign interests—eventually also forcing China to pay enormous reparations post-rebellion.

Japan sent the largest contingent of the allied force and played a major role in the capture of Beijing, and its troops also carried out summary executions and other abuses during the campaign.”

Again, the reality of the matter is VERY different to how Yūshūkan tells it, isn’t it? They would have you believe that Japan was not an Imperial power, that it simply committed troops to China as a rescue operation. But in reality, they were every bit the plunderers of China as the Europeans were.

We could go on, as our staffer snapped way more eyebrow raising panels, but we shan’t, as those three examples are more than enough to prove our claim: that the Yūshūkan is more than happy to just outright lie when it comes to protecting the legacy of Imperial Japan.

And that’s pretty much the sum of the Yūshūkan’s issues: it misrepresents history to cover for war criminals, and then venerates them in their Halls of Remembrance…

And Yet…

Having just heard all of that, you’re all probably ready to write the Yūshūkan off as a complete waste of time, right? An offensive sh*tshow of a museum with no redeeming qualities that is just NOT worth your 1,000 Yen?

Certainly, we wouldn’t blame you for doing so… and yet… we find ourselves unable to condemn it—at least wholly.

Because we have to be fair and fact based ultimately, and when it comes to its collections—i.e. the historical items it has on display—there can be no denying that in that regard, the Yūshūkan is actually EXCELLENT.

Sure, it’s not exactly a British Museum or Smithsonian-esque ‘fcking massive warehouse full of sht loads’, being comparatively modest in size. But, what it does have, is very, very good indeed.

Consider, as an example, this thing; the Yokosuka D4Y—a 1942 to 1945 produced Japanese dive bomber, scout, and night fighter.

It was an excellent little thing in its day, one of the fastest dive bombers of the period, period, and thus quite the bum squeaky thing to have screaming towards you at a 45-degree angle if you happened to be a U.S. marine fighting it out on a Pacific island. And of the 2,038 airframes produced, only two survive to this day… guess where has one of them?

Yep, the Yūshūkan—with theirs being a D4Y1 variant.

And there’s no critique to be made regarding their custodianship of it, either. They’ve had it since either 1981 or 1988—there’s conflicting information out there—and it’s kept inside, which you love to see because the outdoors are NOT kind to old aircraft. Further still, it’s also had at least one full top to bottom, in and out, nut and bolt level restoration in that time… and maybe a second one if they did in fact get it in 1981.

Then there’s this, a Class C56 steam locomotive.

At face value, not that big of a deal, because at least 32 of them do survive in various states of preservation… BUT, this one loco has a very particular history: it is a veteran of the Thai-Burma Railway, better known as the ‘Death Railway’—the line Japan built between the two titular countries during WWII using Allied prisoners of war and local civilians as slave labour… treating them so appallingly, that it is believed that more than 100 THOUSAND of them died during construction.

And that, no matter how you cut it, is some bloody important history they’re looking after. Seemingly quite agreeably again too, at least from the standpoint of material preservation, with the loco having a dedicated corps of volunteers that look after it, and only it.

Do note how we specifically said that it was only agreeable from the standpoint of material preservation though… because if you take a look at the plaque placed beside it, you will see that there is just NO mention of the horror of which it was a lynchpin in facilitating; it was commandeered for colonial service, partook in the opening ceremony of the Thai-Burma Railway… retained by the Thai’s postwar, then came back home in the ‘70’s… and that’s it—that’s all the history the Yūshūkan curators think you need to know.

Shockingly, it gets worse too, and it’s all about the section that states, “…but members of the Southern Forces Field Railroad Squadron who were involved in the construction of the Thai-Burma Railroad contributed funds and brought it back…”

Remember what we said about the slave labour, and the 100,000 deaths involved in building that railway? Yeeeeeeeep. That.

What we are dealing with here then is—genuinely, no hyperbole—the equivalent of a group of Auschwitz veterans heading over to Poland, buying one of the old Class 52’s that used to bring those poor souls in to the camp from all across occupied Europe, then paying to ship it back to Germany, donating it to a museum in Berlin, and its wartime history then being surmised as “it took part in operations in Poland”.

Moving on from that though, because while those two are very much the lead exhibits in our opinion—the things that really elevate the quality of the collection—there’s no shortage of other interesting and historically important stuff on display.

Things such as this Type 97 Chi Ha tank, this ‘Shinyo’, a type of kamikaze motorboat, this Yokosuka MXY-7 Ohka, a rocket powered kamikaze aircraft, this Mitsubishi A6M Zero, a legendary carrier-capable fighter, and this 460mm shell originally intended for the Musashi before she was sunk—her being of the Yamato-class, the largest battleships EVER constructed.

And as you can tell from the images, the whole lot is very well looked after—genuinely, from the standpoint of material preservation, there is not a SINGLE thing you can criticise the Yūshūkan for.

But that, is EXACTLY what makes it such a troubling place.

Because the Yūshūkan is NOT some two-bit mickey mouse operation—a far-flung middle of nowhere one-man band museum, or some fella’s personal collection that just got out of hand—it is a significant museum, with a significant budget, right in the heart of the nation’s capital, which is run by professional people who know what they are doing.

And yet, they choose, PROACTIVELY, to obfuscate the crimes of their forerunners… and in doing so, trample on the graves of tens of millions…

Shrine Controversies

The Yasukuni—that being the ‘proper’ shrine part if you recall—is itself no stranger to controversy as well, as we said way back at the beginning of the episode.

If anything, it’s had WAY more. Even if for no reason other than the fact it’s more visible; the Yūshūkan flies relatively under the radar you see, only really coming to the attention of those with a pre-existing interest in the history.

The Yasukuni however, as a shrine, and not exactly an insignificant one at that too, gets noticed. So noticed in fact, that when important people—the sorts you see on the front of newspapers—turn up for a visit… it’s headline news.

Stick a pin in that thought for now though, because before we start tackling that, we need to get our heads around the why of its controversy… and basically… picture the Yūshūkan’s Hall of Remembrance, inject it with enough steroids to give even Ronnie Coleman pause for thought… and you have the top and bottom of it.

Because you see, in Shinto terms, the people commemorated there are not merely remembered, they are ENSHRINED as ‘Kami’—divine spirits of a sort… or at the very least spiritually present beings who can be ‘interacted with’, in a sense, by the living.

This means that when someone goes to the Yasukuni, they are not just paying respects at a grave… they are entering a religious space whose dead are treated as present, sacred, and worthy of prayer… all of them—in the shrine’s own telling—with completely equal reverence regardless of rank or status… we suspect you’ve all twigged where this is going…

More than 2.4 MILLION dead are enshrined there—14 of which are ‘Class A’ war criminals, and 984 of which are ‘Class B’ and ‘Class C’.

Contrary to what you may expect, however, those categories do not go in descending order of evilness, but instead are just simple categorisation: Class A being for ‘Crimes Against Peace’, Class B for ‘Conventional War Crimes’, and Class C for ‘Crimes Against Humanity’.

Hideki Tojo—to give you a specific example—he’s an ‘A’. And Iwane Matsui, the General who oversaw the Rape of Nanjing, he’s a B and a C—to put a face to the other categories.

And if you’re thinking that there’s a chance that they were commemorated by accident—because surely they didn’t have time to give 2.4 million service records a once over—allow us to nip that thought in the bud. Because sure enough, nope—ALL the Class A’ers were commemorated VERY much intentionally.

It happened in October 1978, when the Health and Welfare Ministry, which had been passing records over to Yasukuni for years by that point, made a plan with the then Chief Priest, Nagayoshi Matsudaira, to enshrine them all on the downlow. Matsudaira, as you would expect from that, was a BIG TIME war crime denier—so he was only more than happy to…

And now that we’ve established why the Yasukuni is so controversial, do you still have that pin in the thought about what happens when famous and political sorts turn up there? Good, take it out now.

On the 26th of December 2013, then Prime Minister Shinzo Abe turned up at the Yasukuni in person—the first sitting Japanese premier to do so since Junichiro Koizumi in 2006 in fact.

For his part, he insisted he was only there simply to pay his respects to all war dead in a broad general sense, and to renew Japan’s pledge to never wage war again… but it was not taken that way by the international community… and what came next can only be described as a political sh*t storm of the most diarrhoetic variety.

China, for example, was FURIOUS, with its Ministry of Foreign Affairs stating that, quote:

“The Yasukuni Shrine is a spiritual tool and symbol of Japanese militarism in its war of aggression. To date, 14 Class-A war criminals who committed heinous crimes to the victimized Asian peoples remain honoured there.

The Japanese leader’s visit … is, in nature, an attempt to whitewash the history of aggression and colonialism by militarist Japan, overturn the just trial of Japanese militarism by the international community and challenge the outcome of WWII and the post-war international order.”

Similarly toned statements then came thick and fast from all over East Asia, and even the U.S.—stalwart ally of Japan as it is—released a statement saying they were “disappointed” with Abe’s actions.

And that experience of Abe’s is very much an exemplary one: When a Japanese politician, or any public figure for that matter, steps through that torii gate, their intentions, whatever they may be, are irrelevant; what Yasukuni does, and how it has chosen to go about doing it, means that there is only ever one way it is taken—as an endorsement of the atrocities some of those enshrined within committed…

Backlash

Let’s stay with the matter of backlash now. Because actually, if you can believe it, strongly worded diplomatic cables are on the tamer side of what the Yūshūkan and Yasukuni get.

For example—to show you what the backlash can be like at its most extreme—they got bombed in 2015. Yes, you heard right, BOMBED.

It happened on the 23rd of November, when Jeon Chang Han, a South Korean National, planted a timed “pipe-and-gunpowder device”, as described by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, in the public toilet near the East Gate.

It went off around 10am, scorching the wall, punching a 30 or so centimetre hole through the ceiling, and sending smoke billowing—all the while a 100 or so people were gathered nearby, assembling for a harvest rite.

Luckily, no one was injured, and Jeon fled Japan… only to be arrested weeks later, and sentenced to four years in prison, because after finding himself dissatisfied with his first effort, he returned to Japan… WITH YET MORE EXPLOSIVES.

And nor was 2015 the first brush with outright physical attack either, as in September 2013, another South Korean national, Kang Yong Min, entered the grounds carrying two two-litre bottles of VERY flammable paint thinner, as well as some lighters and gloves, and then hid—again near the East Gate toilet.

Security found him soon enough. He tried to give them the slip, and bolted up the entry path, but was tackled before he could set anything alight—hurling the paint thinner as he fell to the ground.

We have no idea whether he was targeting the Yūshūkan or the Yasukuni—they are on the same site after all—but when handed over to the Police, he freely admitted his intentions: that he had come to set something alight, out of fury over the distortion of history, and was handed a three year sentence by the Tokyo District Court, suspended for four.

Then there was the December 2011 arson attack, which was successful… to a point.

And we say to a point, because it was neither the Yūshūkan nor Yasukuni proper that got set ablaze… but one of the torii gates that stand at the street entrances—our sources don’t specify which one.

The attacker that time was Liu Qiang, a Chinese national, and he actually managed to get away, heading straight for the airport, and flying to South Korea… where he then firebombed the Japanese embassy in Seoul…

Quite the diplomatic kerfuffle this one caused too, because South Korea refused to extradite him to Japan to face trial for the attack in Tokyo. Instead, he did a 10-month stint in South Korea for his firebombing of the embassy, and then was sent back to China.

Incidents such as all of those however, are very much exceptional. Instead, the majority of backlash has been far more ordinary: foreign activists and bereaved families turning up with banners, songs, petitions, demands that the shrine stop enshrining their dead against their wishes—and so on and so forth.

Taiwanese indigenous groups, for example, have repeatedly travelled to Tokyo to demand that the spirits of their war dead—forcibly conscripted as they were—be removed from the Yasukuni, with one such protest in 2005 being blocked by police before it could properly reach the shrine, and another in 2009 seeing around fifty protesters march up toward the worship hall, before they then sang a requiem for their entrapped dead.

There has also been no shortage of Japanese led protest too, because—and we want to make this VERY clear—neither the Yūshūkan nor the Yasukuni speaks for Japan writ large.

Consider, as an example, Peace Bereaved Families National Liaison Council. They have been leading regular protests for YEARS now. Both on the August 15th specifically—the anniversary of Japan’s surrender—and during highpoints of controversy, such as Shinzo Abe’s earlier mentioned visit.

Then there’s the other museums—of course—that do things properly, and again, attest to the fact that neither the Yūshūkan nor the Yasukuni represent ALL of Japan’s feelings on WWII.

The Peace Museum in Hiroshima, for example—dedicated to the memory of the obvious—doesn’t shy away from the reality of Imperial Japan’s impact on the world, as, neither, does the Women’s Active Museum on War and Peace in Tokyo, which holds no bars when it comes to explaining Imperial Japan’s industrial scale sexual slavery.

Hell, even the Ordnance School in Tsuchiura Garrison, to the north-east of Tokyo, who have a not insignificant collection of tanks and armoured vehicles gathered in their own, rather difficult to be let inside of museum, tell it as it was: that the older items in their collection were, no two ways about it, tools utilised for imperialism, expansionism, and unprovoked aggression…

Conclusion

And that, pretty much, is it.

We did approach the Religious Corporation of Yasukuni Jinja for comment. Because you never know, two sides to every story and all that, perhaps there was something, ANYTHING, that they’d be able to tell us that, even if it didn’t lead to us condoning what they do, would at least allow us to better understand it.

But NO, emails were sent, phone calls were made, and the former just got ignored, while the latter always led to us having to speak to someone else who was conveniently never available.

So, all we can say then, in closing, is that it comes down to a simple matter: if 1,000 Yen, as well as dealing with and financing ultranationalist perversions of history, is a price you’re willing to pay to see some cool and interesting exhibits, then the doors are wide open for you.

And if not, then you certainly won’t be alone in your choice to boycott… for it… after all… could well be the world’s most controversial museum…

Frequently Asked Questions

What is the correct name of the museum discussed in the article, and what does it mean?

The correct name is the ‘Yūshūkan’, which translates as ‘Hall of Learning from the Virtuous’. The ‘Yasukuni’ is actually the name of the shrine on the same site, which translates as ‘Shrine for National Peace’.

Where is the Yūshūkan located, and how much does it cost to enter?

The Yūshūkan is located in the heart of Central Tokyo, just down the road from the Imperial Palace in Chiyoda, Tokyo. It costs 1,000 Yen (about 6 USD) to enter.

Who owns and operates both the Yūshūkan museum and the Yasukuni shrine?

Both the Yūshūkan and the Yasukuni are owned and operated by the Religious Corporation of Yasukuni Jinja, currently headed by Chief Priest Umio Otsuka.

What makes the Yūshūkan’s commemoration of war dead particularly controversial?

The Yūshūkan venerates war criminals as ‘venerated souls’ (quasi-sacred, enshrined figures) in its Hall of Remembrance, including Hideki Tojo, who committed numerous crimes against humanity such as the Bataan Death March, forced labor systems, and coercive parole regimes.

How does the Yūshūkan misrepresent the Nanjing Massacre in its exhibits?

The Yūshūkan’s panel describes the ‘Nanking Incident’ as Japanese forces maintaining strict military discipline and only prosecuting Chinese soldiers disguised as civilians. This is described in the article as a near-complete fabrication, when in reality Japanese troops carried out mass executions, widespread rape, looting, and arson, with perhaps as many as 350,000 civilians and prisoners of war murdered.

What significant historical artifacts does the Yūshūkan possess despite its controversial presentations?

The Yūshūkan has an excellent collection including: a Yokosuka D4Y dive bomber (one of only two surviving), a Class C56 steam locomotive veteran of the Thai-Burma ‘Death Railway’, a Type 97 Chi Ha tank, a ‘Shinyo’ kamikaze motorboat, a Yokosuka MXY-7 Ohka rocket-powered kamikaze aircraft, a Mitsubishi A6M Zero fighter, and a 460mm shell intended for the battleship Musashi.

How many people are enshrined at the Yasukuni Shrine, and how many are convicted war criminals?

More than 2.4 million dead are enshrined at the Yasukuni Shrine, including 14 ‘Class A’ war criminals and 984 ‘Class B’ and ‘Class C’ war criminals. The Class A war criminals were intentionally enshrined in October 1978 through a secret plan between the Health and Welfare Ministry and then Chief Priest Nagayoshi Matsudaira.

What happened when Prime Minister Shinzo Abe visited the Yasukuni Shrine in 2013?

On December 26, 2013, Shinzo Abe became the first sitting Japanese premier to visit the Yasukuni Shrine since 2006. He claimed he was paying respects to all war dead and renewing Japan’s pledge to never wage war again, but the visit sparked intense international backlash. China was furious, calling it an attempt to whitewash history, and even the U.S. stated it was ‘disappointed’.

What violent attacks have targeted the Yūshūkan/Yasukuni complex?

The complex has faced multiple attacks: a November 2015 bombing by South Korean national Jeon Chang Han using a pipe-and-gunpowder device; a September 2013 attempted arson by South Korean national Kang Yong Min with paint thinner; and a December 2011 successful arson of a torii gate by Chinese national Liu Qiang, who later also firebombed the Japanese embassy in Seoul.

Do all Japanese people support the Yūshūkan and Yasukuni’s portrayal of history?

No. The article explicitly states that neither the Yūshūkan nor the Yasukuni speaks for Japan writ large. Examples of Japanese-led opposition include the Peace Bereaved Families National Liaison Council, which leads regular protests, and alternative museums like the Peace Museum in Hiroshima, the Women’s Active Museum on War and Peace in Tokyo, and the Ordnance School in Tsuchiura Garrison, which present more accurate histories of Japan’s wartime actions.

Sources

• Original Places video: The World’s Most Controversial Museum.
• Hero image source by Saga1111 / openverse, by-sa.