Report from the Shadows

WITH JAPAN'S LEADERS -- Frederick Moore--Scribner ($2.75).

For 14 years Frederick Moore served the Japanese government as adviser on international affairs. Seven ambassadors to Washington--Shidehara, Hanihara, Mat-sudaira, Debuchi, Saito, Horinouchi, Nomura--worked with his assistance. He was a member of the Japanese delegation which went to the League of Nations to argue Japan's case for the invasion of Manchuria. When Matsuoka, the delegation's head; insolently marched out of the League Assembly, he was followed by all his fellow delegates save Frederick Moore.

"I remained," writes Moore, "till I felt too conspicuous to stay any longer--a lone man in a crowded hall occupying one among 20 vacant chairs on the floor. . . ." And, finally, Moore was with the Japanese Embassy in Washington through the last desperate months before Pearl Harbor. In the summer of 1941 he had believed he could do nothing to restore Japanese-American relations, and told Ambassador Nomura so. But Nomura insisted that he stay. "We are in the last ditch," he admitted, "but we must continue the struggle anyway."

Moore's close connection with Japan's government was no innovation. Since the days of Commodore Perry Japan's leaders had clearly seen that to compete successfully with the Western powers they must hire Westerners as teachers. German officers came to train the army, British and American sailors to train the navy, and a mixture of many nationals to teach foreign languages and sciences, to advise on administration and the conduct of foreign relations, "to assist in changing the nation from a confusion of medieval feudal baronies to a united modern state." Moore came to them with no special training beyond his 20 years as a newspaper correspondent in Europe and the East. "I am an authority on general information" he told his Jap employers, and left it at that. He made a point of plain speaking to his bosses, combining truth with tact and he got along well with the diplomats, being, in his own archaic phrase, "in nowise timorous and also capable of jest."

Devil's Advocate. Today, Author Moore believes the Japanese must be utterly defeated, that "we can no more compromise with them than we can with the Germans." But eight years ago, and for long thereafter, compromise was his only mission. He never ceased to warn Japan's leaders that their army must be curbed, that a clash with the U.S. would be fatal to their country. On the other hand he pleaded their cause against U.S. critics. He could see no reason why Japan should not annex Korea--"a badly governed area" smaller than the American prize of the Philippines. He believed Formosa to be "better off under Japanese control." In order to "play fair," he defended

Japanese "entry" into Manchuria. Manchuria, he argued, was populated by "only 30 million people," and was rich and fertile. It seemed to provide every reason for not invading China. For it was over China that even Mr. Moore's extensive approval began to shrink. It was then he found himself unable to support "an army domination which not only assassinated its own chiefs of state, but also provoked wanton wars at will."

Moore had seen the day go by when Japan's civil government was in any sense a ruling power. The military was virtually the sole authority. The Emperor, the last vain hope of Japan's "better men," had all the divine right the cosmos could supply, but he was deprived of one thing, hampering even to a god--he was not permitted to make up his own mind. His divinity was a tool in the hands of the army leaders.

Smiling Faces. As for the diplomats--they are Author Moore's story. It was mainly among the Japanese representatives in Washington that he worked, and when he calls his book With Japan's Leaders he is denying his own case. For the diplomats were simply stooges, faces that smiled, winked, shuddered, dropped protests, as the situation demanded. Some of them, says Mr. Moore, went definitely over to the army, after the successful invasion of Manchuria. But the bulk of them, he believes, simply carried on in an atmosphere of bewilderment and ignorance. The sincere among them (Mr. Moore's devotion to Nomura amounts almost to hero worship) grieved and fretted: not only were their long and detailed reports to Tokyo ignored, but they themselves were left carefully uninformed. Their Washington embassy, in Mr.

Moore's opinion, was not told in advance of the attack on China. This was no mere carelessness. "The ambassadors were left thereby in a better position to carry out the army's pretense of having been attacked." Even the attack on Pearl Harbor was probably not foretold with any completeness to the embassies, in this case because of the secrecy vital to the plan. The effect of this kind of ignorance on the staffs of Japanese embassies was utterly disillusioning. "They therefore played golf, tennis and bridge oftener than [Nomura] thought they should." But "Mr. Moore thought differently; he approved their playing. "There was nothing else for them to do."

Manifest Destiny. But on one vital factor the diplomats believed themselves well informed--to the delight of the army extremists. The U.S., they were convinced, would never fight. As the years passed Moore's anxiety grew; his insistence on Japan's coming to grips, and terms, with U.S. public opinion made him unpopular with his Japanese friends. He happened in 1940 to mention the word "war" to Ambassador Horinouchi and was impatiently slapped down. "Moore, your country won't go to war," said the Ambassador flatly, and could, with justification, point to the same opinion throughout a huge section of the U.S. press and public.

To the Japanese army leaders such apparent confirmation was a great help. Japanese correspondents cabled encouragingly to Tokyo; in the weeks before the Presidential election they had the satisfaction of being able to quote both the chief candidates on their determination to keep the country out of war--if possible. The correspondents, says Mr. Moore, accepted the statement, ignored the qualification. And in Tokyo the army and navy gladly did the same, pushing on to the fulfillment of their "Manifest Destiny." Foreign Minister Matsuoka was at hand to assure the Japanese Cabinet that "many millions of Americans of German descent would rally to the support of the opponents of President Roosevelt's policies." Behind Matsuoka in Tokyo stood a host of Nazi agents feeding him distorted evidence to the same effect. There was, of course, no doubt in Nazi minds as to what Japan should do. "Why don't the Japanese go ahead?" Hitler asked one of his American agents. "I have given them the chance."

Japan's last Ambassador to Washington, Nomura, wavered between hope and despair throughout the last months before Pearl Harbor. "It will be a crime for these two countries to fight each other," he told Moore, adding sadly, "but the crime will be committed." And when war seemed inevitable Nomura shuffled his arguments and began to talk of Japan's strength, hoping thereby to frighten U.S. officials. "Americans," he said, "were underestimating the difficulties which he, as a naval man, knew we should have in waging war across the Pacific." He spoke of the distances, the strategic position of Japan, the necessity for America to maintain long lines of supply ships for our naval vessels, and the efficiency of the Japanese navy--which he said was underrated by

Americans. He hoped that Moore would pass these warnings on to high quarters. He did not underrate American fighting qualities. "Nevertheless," he said, "war with Japan will not be a war of only six months, as some of your newspapers are saying, nor even only a year."

6:30 at Pearl Harbor. At noon on Sunday, Dec. 7, Moore visited the Embassy for the last time. At Pearl Harbor it was 6:30 a.m.--"the Japanese airplanes had taken off and the submarines were approaching." In the embassy, Nomura, apparently ignorant of these events, could only shake his head and say: "It's in God's hands." Near by, Special Ambassador Kurusu was at work on Tokyo's long final note, which Secretary Hull an hour or two later would describe as false and infamous. While they waited to see the Secretary of State, Nomura glanced nervously at his watch (see cut p. 77). But if Mr. Moore is right, he only wanted to see the time of day, had no inkling that in Pearl Harbor's incredible dawn, it was at that moment a whole age later.

Author Moore's book was not written for readers who want the basic motivating facts behind Japanese aggression. He terms it "an intimate record" of his years as counselor. It is neither more nor less. For Author Moore's work was among the shadows projected by Japanese imperialism across the Pacific. He rarely saw the men whose guiding movements made the shadows dance.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.