The Quiet Gentleman from Japan

He was accustomed to waving to the crowds with his hat, but it had been suggested that this might look old-fashioned in the U.S. The Americans did not have much use for hats. So the old gentle man had conscientiously practiced waving with his hand alone. When his plane came to a halt last week in Newport News, Va., he appeared bareheaded.

Walking slowly and carefully down the flight of steps from the Japan Air Lines DC-8, he twice waved graciously to the small crowd of welcomers. On his first visit to the U.S., at the age of 74, Emperor Hirohito of Japan was clearly determined to do everything right.

Red Airplane. During World War II, Hirohito was regarded by Americans as the hated symbol of his country, an embodiment of treachery and aggression, but that enmity has long since faded into a kind of bemused nostalgia.

The two nations that battled so fiercely in the Pacific are now bound together by mutual need. Hirohito had wanted to come to the U.S. for years (en route to Europe in 1971, he had stopped over in Alaska for a brief meeting with President Nixon), but he was dissuaded from doing so by the anti-Americanism of the Japanese left and the ill-will caused in 1971 when President Richard Nixon did not consult or even inform Japan be fore announcing a new policy toward China. To help ease that tension, President Gerald Ford went to Japan last November, and now the first Japanese imperial visit to the U.S. was meticulously planned to provide both nations with a graceful and rather old-fashioned diplomatic interlude.

To begin their two-week tour, the Emperor and Empress Nagako were driven to the re-created colonial village of Williamsburg, Va. There Hirohito rode in an open carriage to the House of Burgesses, and like thousands of tourists before him, fed the ducks on the grounds of the Williamsburg Inn. He also found time to smooth over a troublesome incident. He dispatched a Japanese official to nearby Norfolk to lay a wreath on the grave of General Douglas MacArthur, the commander whose forces had defeated Japan but who had allowed Hirohito to keep his title. The gesture was made to appease MacArthur's widow, who had said she was "very unhappy" that Hirohito's schedule would not permit him to visit the grave.

On Thursday morning, the Emperor and Empress journeyed to Washington by limousine to meet the President. The grounds of the White House were packed for the occasion by an unusually large crowd of 2,000 spectators, plus a 300-man Japanese press corps that could match its American counterpart in competitiveness. Shortly before the royal couple were due to arrive, a small red airplane suddenly appeared startlingly close to the White House. It was towing a banner, hooked up backwards, that read: EMPEROR HIROHITO, PLEASE SAVE OUR WHALES. (It later turned out that the flight was sponsored by the Animal Welfare Institute, in an effort to get the Emperor to join the fight against the commercial slaughter of whales.) As the plane drew nearer, the anxious Secret Service was told by air controllers that the pilot was carefully sticking to a legal route down nearby K Street. Even so, agents radioed the command to have the pilot veer off.

The plane had disappeared when the Emperor stepped out of his limousine, followed by his wife, who was dressed completely in white and was carrying a sheaf of red roses given to her by Mrs. Ford. The Emperor and the President shook hands warmly, and Ford adjusted his long stride to accommodate the uncertain footing of Hirohito as they mounted the red-carpeted steps to the reviewing stand. Cannons boomed out a 21-gun salute.

President Ford spoke first, being careful to make no mention of the war.

noting that "Your Majesty's visit symbolizes and strengthens the ties between our two peoples." When his turn came.

Hirohito made the most of a sensitive moment that had profound implications for him and his country. The Japanese viewed the visit of the Emperor as their last act of reconciliation after World War II. Squinting through his gold-rimmed glasses, the stooped little man with the pewter-colored hair read the Japanese characters brushed on a folded card and made his point with poetic Japanese understatement: "Our peoples withstood the challenges of one tragic interlude, when the Pacific Ocean, symbol of tranquillity, was a rough and stormy sea, and have built today unchanging ties of peace and friendship between the two countries."

At a state dinner held in his honor that evening, Hirohito went a step further. Toasting the President, he thanked the U.S. for its support "following that most unfortunate war, which I deeply deplore." During the evening, the Emperor never quite mastered the art of unbending in casual conversation, but the Empress, all smiles and easy grace, enchanted the guests, who were also struck by her diamond tiara and spectacular diamond necklace.

The ties of peace and friendship between the U.S. and the nation's other bitter enemy during World War II were emphasized in quite another way the next day when West Germany's Chancellor Helmut Schmidt, 56, arrived in Washington. He discussed international economic problems with the President while Hirohito continued his ceremonial duties.

Marine Life. For Hirohito, the visit to the U.S. is not only a pleasant chore of state but a chance to indulge his passion: the study of marine life. Hirohito is a respected amateur student of Crustacea and Hydrozoa--primitive spineless animals that attach themselves to seaweed and shells in shallow ocean waters. From Washington, where he spent a happy afternoon looking over specimens in the National Museum of Natural History, Hirohito went to Cape Cod to tour the world-famed Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution and the Marine Biological Laboratory.

This week Hirohito is due to visit U.N. headquarters in New York City, then head west to Chicago, California and finally Honolulu, where attacking planes came roaring in nearly 34 years ago.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.