Ha Jin - Nanjing Requiem

A week later we heard from Dr. Wu, who was pleased by the smaller size of the Homecraft School now — she must have assumed that this was a step closer to restoring the college.

Ever since she returned from her summer vacation, Minnie got frazzled easily. Sometimes she nodded off at her desk, and once she missed an appointment with a reporter from the Chicago Tribune . Every Monday morning she would give Big Liu her weekly schedule so he could remind her of the important matters and arrangements every day.

More Japanese came to visit our campus. Most of them were civilians, some were Christians, and one even brought his children with him. Among the visitors was a fortyish man named Yoguchi, slightly hunched and beaky-faced, whose eyes would disappear when he smiled, as if afraid of light. He came often and would converse with us whenever he could. He spoke Mandarin with a sharp accent, having lived in Manchuria for more than a decade. In the beginning Yoguchi would not believe what we told him about the atrocities the soldiers had committed, but Minnie took him to some women in the Homecraft School and let him interview them. They told him their stories, which gradually convinced him. He even bowed to some of them apologetically when they collapsed, sobbing, unable to speak anymore.

One afternoon Yoguchi said to us, “The army has taken measures to control its men and make sure they’re better supplied. I’m quite certain that no orgy of burning, rape, and bloodshed will happen again.”

“What do you mean?” Minnie asked.

“An officer told me that since last winter, the army has been sending the military police ahead of the troops whenever they are about to take a city. And also, officers have been ordered to treat their men like brothers so they won’t vent their spleen on civilians like they did here two years ago. You see, the army has been trying to prevent brutalities.”

That sounded stupid; Yoguchi was a civilian but still attempted to defend the Imperial Army.

Minnie said, “Do you think they can simply slam the brakes on violence?” Seeing him flummoxed and with two vertical lines furrowing his forehead, she added, “The atrocities will continue to take place in the victims’ minds for many years. They’re not something that can be put behind easily. Hatred begets hatred as love begets love.”

Silence ensued while Yoguchi’s face reddened. Then he said, “I’m sorry. I never thought of it that way.”

He didn’t raise the topic again. He ordered three cotton-padded robes from the tailoring class at the Homecraft School as Christmas presents for his children. I arranged the order for him but didn’t tell the seamstresses anything about the customer, afraid that they might refuse to work on the garments if they knew they were making them for a Japanese family.

Minnie and I were glad to see the change in Yoguchi, which further convinced her that only through the fully informed Christians in Japan could the people of that country be persuaded to see that the war was wrong and make peace. Yoguchi brought other Japanese Christians to Jinling, and some of them were impressed by the classroom buildings, the library, and the gardens. Minnie would tell them, “Come again in the spring — our campus will be like a beautiful park. In fact, that was what I wanted it to become when I joined the faculty here.”

Yoguchi suggested that Jinling send some people to Japan to speak to the Christians there about what had happened in Nanjing. This could be a good step toward mutual understanding between the Chinese and the Japanese. The suggestion amazed us, but Minnie didn’t respond right away. After Yoguchi left, we talked about it. I admitted, “If my grandson and daughter-in-law were not there, you’d have to cut off my legs before you could make me step foot in that country.”

“You mean you don’t want to go?” Minnie asked.

“Of course I’d like to go. I want to see Mitsuko and Shin if I can locate them.”

“Then we’ll make you the head of our delegation.”

Minnie also spoke to Alice to see if it would be safe for Chinese people to travel to Japan. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” Alice assured her. “The Japanese there are not the same as the soldiers here.”

Heartened by Alice’s support, Minnie talked with Searle Bates. He had spent a summer in Japan three years ago and liked the country, though he was still documenting the Japanese war crimes and exposing their manipulation of the narcotics trade as a way to weaken the Chinese mentally and physically. He worked as an official of Nanjing University now, in charge of the school’s properties, because as a foreigner he could deal with the Japanese in person. Searle thought that the trip was a good idea and added that it would be more productive if some Chinese could speak at seminaries and colleges in Japan, but he was unsure if we could get the travel papers. The Japanese military meant to keep the truth of the Nanjing atrocities from spreading internationally and might deny citizens here entry to Japan, where the war was being propagated as seisen , “sacred war,” waged against communism and Western colonialism and led by the emperor himself.

To Minnie’s amazement, the young Chinese faculty members received the idea of the reconciliatory trip warmly. Both Shanna and Rulian were happy at the prospect of visiting Japan. They each spoke English well and were appropriate candidates to accompany me. Minnie and I discussed the matter with Yoguchi on his next visit. The man smiled and said, “Don’t worry about the travel permits. We’ll try to get them. We have some pull at the embassy. You know Mr. Tanaka?”

“Yes, he’s better than the other officials,” Minnie replied, though we hadn’t seen him for months.

“Tanaka is a Christian. This is just between us.” Yoguchi put his bony hand on a large package sent to Jinling’s nursery by the kindergarten of a church in Nagasaki. He had come to deliver the gifts today.

“Oh, no wonder Tanaka was so helpful,” I said. “We won’t breathe a word about him, of course.”

We then talked about how to fund the trip. Yoguchi said he could get some money from a Christian association, but it might not be enough to cover all the expenses. Minnie told him that she would look for funds too. “For the time being,” she said, “let’s split the cost fifty-fifty.”

“That’s fine. I hope we can work this one out.”

We thought that Jinling should sponsor the trip, since we had quite a bit of cash at the moment. But when we broached this subject without mentioning me as part of it, Mrs. Dennison said, “No, we won’t give a penny. If Shanna and Rulian want to visit Japan, they should pay for the trip out of their own pockets, or the Japanese side should pick up the bill. We must spend every yuan on restoring our college.”

“I want to go with them too,” I blurted out.

The old woman looked amazed. “Why do you want to be part of this? What’s in it for you?”

“I want to see what that country’s like,” I mumbled. “To know the enemy is a necessary step toward victory.”

“But you’re not an officer.”

Minnie said, “Rulian and Shanna were your students, Mrs. Dennison.” She must have assumed that the old woman resented her friendly relations with the young faculty members.

“That’s why I won’t play favorites,” the old woman responded.

“We have a good amount of cash now, and I cannot see why we shouldn’t sponsor the trip,” Minnie said.

“Remember we’ve both agreed to devote all our efforts and resources to rebuilding the college.”

“Their visit to Japan will help improve the communication and mutual understanding between the Japanese and the Chinese. That’s more meaningful and necessary — I mean, to make peace. Besides, our delegates will find ways to form relations with the churches there, and our direct contact with Japan will strengthen our college’s position here in the long run. In other words, this trip would also help to rebuild Jinling.”