Japan's Wartime Responsibility

The other day, I went to an interesting seminar on WWII regarding the issue of wartime responsibility in Japan. The event centered around a recently released book that summarizes the findings of a study conducted by the Yomiuri Shimbun.

In commemoration of the sixtieth anniversary of the conclusion of WWII, the Yomiuri conducted a year-long study from summer of 2005 to summer of 2006 primarily on Japan’s wartime responsibility, but also looking into other issues, such as whether the atomic bombs were necessary, the role of the media, etc. The articles are available here: http://www.yomiuri.co.jp/dy/features/0007/.

I confess that I have not had a chance to read the columns, so cannot speak to their quality. (The one random article I skimmed through sounded more like a rationalization than a reflection; however, given that it was an English translation, I'm willing to give Yomiuri the benefit of a doubt and attribute the somewhat defensive tone to mistranslation of nuances for now.) Either way, this is a laudable institutional attempt at examining the war. What I find truly remarkable about this whole project is that the most influential newspaper in Japan—one with a reputation for being right-leaning, no less—took it upon itself to conduct research on a controversial topic and present its findings to the general public. Actually, although the Yomiuri has been traditionally a right-leaning paper, its recent editorials have criticized former PM Koizumi’s visits to Yasukuni Shrine, perhaps marking a sharp rift from its past editorial stance.

There have been numerous such studies on Japan's wartime responsibility conducted by Japanese academics, but these often tend to stay within academic circles. This has been one of my sources of frustration, when trying to debate or discuss the topic of Japan's role and reflection on WWII.

For example, there are tons of Japanese books written about the various atrocities that Japan has committed against other nations and people--the biological experiments conducted by Unit 731, treatment of prisoners of war, and the rape of Nanjing, to name a few.

Yet, much to my and other Japanese historians' annoyance, the New York Times' editorials never make mention of this when they criticize the decision of Japan's prime minister to visit Yasukuni Shrine. Instead many U.S. papers, as well as other reputable non-Japan specialists--be they academics in other fields or journalists--have an annoying penchant for equating the prime minister's actions with the views of the entire Japanese population, and thus frequently portray all of Japan as a monolithic mass of people who are in denial of the country's wartime history.

Moreover, whenever I discuss Japan's wartime responsibility with American colleagues, they are often clueless about the extent to which the U.S. played a role (a rather large one, I may add) in aiding Japan's "wartime amnesia", which is another source of frustration for me.

How do you begin to have intelligent discussion, when there are gaps in knowledge?

One thing that this project undertaken by the Yomiuri might do is fill in these gaps.

Thus, I attended the seminar with high expectations. The Yomiuri person explained the premise of the project a little bit, then made a brief presentation of its findings-- which to oversimplify, holds the following groups responsible for the progression of the war:
-the mass media, which deceived the public
-the Japanese government (specifically the diet, I think)
-the Japanese people

The Yomiuri study deals strictly with the Pacific War between the U.S. and Japan. Here was my first problem. While I understand the need to narrow the topic, given that the war in Asia is where most of the controversy lies, why did the Yomiuri choose to look at just the Pacific War, rather than the war w/ its Asian neighbors?

Second, this book has already been translated into English, which, given the topic scope, perhaps makes sense. Yomiuri is working on getting it translated into Chinese. But again, it is almost as if this study is targeting an imagined community of English readers who might benefit from reading this study. Wouldn't it have made more sense to translate this into Chinese first?

I don't know much about history education in China, but given the reaction of Chinese youth to Koizumi's visits to Yasukuni, as well as anything that has to do with Japan and the war, I get the sense that Chinese readers may benefit from reading a study such as this one. (Of course, I should probably read the study before making such pronouncements!)

I feel that in the case of history education in Japan, I feel that it is a case of どっちもどっち(Sorry to English speakers who don't know Japanese, which I believe is 99% of potential readers--all 5 of you, that is. . .. There's really no equivalent phrase in English, b/c English is limited like that. But back to my point.) in terms of the Japanese government making at times ridiculous public judgement calls, and the Chinese people reacting. While I'm not trying to side with Japan, I often feel like the Chinese people and students are fed one side of the story and b/c the Japanese government deals w/ the wartime issues one way, the Chinese people do not realize how much diversion there is within groups in Japan regarding this topic. All they see is Koizumi visiting Yasukuni shrine, or Abe making pronouncements about the Japanese government's role in recruiting comfort women, and react strongly to these episodes.

During my grad and undergrad days, I used to one-sidedly condemn such acts of the Japanese government as well, but lately, as I read more things and realize how distorted the NYT's translation of Abe's statement is, for example, I've taken to a much more nuanced view of things--which, for the most part, is still critical of the Japanese government's handing of these things, but also partly defensive when the whole world reacts to one bad translation or interpretation presented from the lens of one reputable newspaper that everyone happens to read.

However, Japan--be it the media or the government--doesn't really make sufficient attempts to dispel these misunderstandings, either. For example, when studies such as this target more of an imagined community of English speakers (as the translation of this book into English suggests), how does this help allay the feelings of Japan's Asian neighbors?

Which brings me to my second question/contention, which I may have already answered-- who is the target audience of these published studies?

If the purpose of this project is to "increase understanding" about Japan's wartime role/responsibility, whose understanding is the Yomiuri trying to increase? And again, the very fact that this book was first translated into English before any Asian language (Korean, Chinese) bothers me a bit. Shouldn't it be these people whose understanding Japan should be trying to speak to?

Although I think that the Yomiuri is taking a big leap towards the right direction, I would now like to see them conduct a study on the war that Japan waged in Asia.

Passage to India--not all that it's cracked up to be

I had high hopes for this restaurant. Lots of people told me that the buffet was very good. "The best in the area", some would even say. Thus, I've been meaning to check it out for the longest time, given that it is so close to where I live.

Well, today I went with a friend to check it out. It was pretty decent, but not out of this world. Not even excellent, but passable. Some of the dishes were very good. The selection was also quite extensive. However, as a whole, it didn't wow me over.

Maybe it is the buffet format that lends itself to so-so food. Or maybe I was looking for more quotidian Indian food. Or maybe it was that I couldn't eat half of the options, b/c they were meat dishes. Or perhaps I didn't feel sated, b/c I was hoping to get khir. Maybe I over-stuffed myself silly.

I'm not sure why, but the food didn't excite me. Then again, buffet food usually is quantity over quality, and thus, may not be intended to excite.

In fact, lately, whenever I go to a buffet, I find myself being more excited by the idea than by the actual execution of buffet-dining plan.

Mentally "breaking up" with guys I never dated

Since I don't actually date guys :-P, I occasionally mentally break up with guys that I never actually went out with. I think I did that recently, or I'm on the brink of doing so.

Why did I mentally break up with this guy? Well, the short of it is that our venn diagrams didn't overlap in the least. For example. . .

He doesn't eat non-white people food (Sorry for being un-PC. This isn't meant to be pejorative, but I'm in a facetious mood and this is my blog.) or never has.

He doesn't seem to eat things that photosynthesize, whereas they (and non-white people food) make up the bulk of my diet.

To top it off, he doesn't like most of my favorite foods. (Mushrooms, sushi, eggplant, squash.)

Oh, and the one meat I would contemplate eating (prosciutto), he doesn't eat.

Our hobbies do not overlap in the least.

He doesn't watch/has never watched films with subtitles.

He has never been to a foreign country.

He doesn't run or swim.

He watches TV, but I do not.

None of these individually are deal breakers per se, but what the heck does one do with someone that doesn't like the same foods as you do, and doesn't take interest in the same things you do (like running, swimming, watching movies with subtitles or trying different cuisines)? Heck, I wouldn't even be able to invite him over for dinner.

Anyway, so I mentally called the whole thing off.

Finally getting the hang of waltz

It's bad enough that I am severely rhythm-challenged, but when you combine that with an inability to tell left from right, it makes learning to dance (my new pursuit of late)/follow rather difficult.

To top this off, I've always had an added mental block with waltz, b/c waltzes are in 3, and yet, when I first learned it, I was taught that the footwork is essentially a box. My question--or point of confusion--always was, how does one fit a 4-sided box into 3 beats?

I have taken a few cross step waltz classes before, so I think I can now follow cross step reasonably well, so long as the lead adheres to mostly standard routines.

However, since I have never taken an intro class to "standard" (rotary) waltz, I often have trouble following a basic waltz, especially if over the course of a night, the two dance pieces are played one after another.

I am taking viennese waltz classes, and the instructor went over the basic waltz. However, instead of describing it in 3-count, he described it in 6 count, and then proceeded to give us several analogies of how to think of the steps as a whole.

Finally, finally, I think the light bulb in my head went on.

The 6-count explanation made so much sense.

Why hadn't someone explained it to me this way earlier?

1% cashmere is not cashmere

I'm skimming through Sierra Trading Post's online catalog for gift ideas, and I come across a "moon wool cashmere windowpane throw". I was vaguely contemplating getting my parents some sort of cashmere throw, so I click on the description.

The description reads, "Windowpane throw blanket from Moon is made in England with the finest wool and cashmere. Chilly mornings are best enjoyed wrapped in the soft luxury of a warm wool throw, coffee in hand."
So far, so promising.

Then I scroll further to look at the fabric contents, and it's 99% wool and 1% cashmere.

Why bother listing something that is 1% cashmere as a "cashmere throw"? I mean, I don't call my 98% cotton/2% spandex buttondown top a spandex top, even though it has twice as much spandex as this throw has cashmere.

It's like a certain cereal company that calls its cereal "honey'd" raisin bran, even though honey is listed lower than salt as an ingredient.

Is it too much to ask for more reasonable labeling guidelines? Such as not calling something "honey'd" this-or-that if it contains less than a teaspoon of honey in an entire box of cereal, or not calling something a "wool/cashmere throw" if it contains only 1% cashmere?

Dumping my friends

I think I want to dump my friends this week. Well, not all of them, and not for real, but part of the point of a blog is to vent, and I don't know what is up w/ people this week. Is it let's-be-quintessentially-Californian-flakes week or something?

Here is a scenario that has happened multiple times this week, but also seems to happen recurringly with certain people. Now if this is your nature w/ everyone, then fine.

It's a variation of one of these (and if the shoe fits, wear it, please):

A. I attempt to make plans with or catch up w/ someone. I email/call them. Like a zillion times. No response.
Comment: I can't be making all of the effort, here. Last I checked, friendship is a 2-way street. I know I sometimes blow people off b/c I'm busy/tired, but if the other person is exhibiting attempts to contact/get together, at some point, I start feeling guilty, and even if I can't give them a full email/call, whatever, I give them a quick call/email to say sorry and will talk longer sometime soon, sort of thing. As for making plans, it takes 15-seconds to draft an email that says "sorry, I can't." I find it hard to believe that you can't occasionally take the 15-seconds to draft such a reply.

B. I make lunch/dinner/rendez-vous-type plans with someone. We set a date to do something in advance. The day of, I check in w/ lunch-plan-friend to confirm, and I get a reply of "sorry, I can't. I have to pick so-and-so up from Zimbabwe.
Comment: You surely must've know about this earlier than 2 hours before our lunch plan when you write back to tell me that you can't meet for lunch. Besides, I don't mean to be a courtesy-fascist, but in my books, this warrants an email from your end. Would you have even let me know if I hadn't thought to confirm? Again, another less-than-one-minute ordeal that can go like this:

friend: "Hey, Y, I need to cancel the lunch plans we made on x-date. I have to pick up a friend who is visiting from Zimbabwe. Sorry."
me: "No worries! We'll try again some other time."

Wow. Look how simple and uncomplicated that is. 15 seconds of effort to not piss me off. That's all I'm asking.

B2. (Variation of B) I make other outing (opera, symphony, etc.) plans with someone. We make this plan in advance. We put it on the calendar. I buy tickets. I email you during the week to "confirm plans/figure out carpool, etc.", but I hear nothing. Finally, the evening of, I get a VM telling me that your roommate doesn't feel like going, so you're reneging as well.

Comment: Again, I'm not objecting to your last minute change of mind, even though I thought we committed to doing this thing and I already have tickets for this event we planned to go see. In the east coast, this wouldn't happen, but here, I'm not terribly surprised that this happens. But if you suddenly don't feel like going, instead of my sending you multiple VMs and emails "to confirm" and you telling me that you're not going 2 hours before on the day of, how about letting me know earlier? Especially, since I've been emailing/calling you these past few days to figure out plans for this particular evening?

This doesn't annoy me so much as confuse me on the notion of "making plans". You're obviously free to cancel, change your mind, etc. But if we make plans to go see an opera in the city, and we set a date well in advance, I buy tickets (and assume you do the same), etc., can you just change your mind and decide to hang out with your roommate, b/c she "doesn't feel like opera tonight"?

I'm not complaining about the cancelling of plans per se (even though this happened enough times this week to warrant a blog entry). Your kids/boyfriend/pet iguana gets sick, or some emergency happens, or in my case, I'm about to cancel plans myself, b/c I feel really run down and can't talk for more than 30-seconds. I'm not trying to be a plan-nazi, and often times, I prefer to make nebulous plans, too.

Nor am I complaining about the oft-nebulous plans I make w/ people. (e.g. I might bike down to the south bay, in which case, I'll give you a call and we'll meet up. Or, if we have time, let's get together and do somethingthis weekend. Or, I might go to Jammix tonight. Maybe we can meet up.)

But if you are cancelling longstanding plans that we made--like lunch at a certain date, a show for a certain evening--and you realize that you have to pick up your Senegalese lepidopterist friend from the airport or whatever and it conflicts w/ our schedule, or you decide to cancel plans for something I thought we planned months in advance, b/c your roommate/SO doesn't want to go, I have a suspicion (from my unreturned multiple emails) that you knew about this way in advance.

Instead of me doing the tracking down to confirm things, why can't people be proactive about letting me know? Not 2 hours before, but as soon as you figure out that you can't stick to the original plan. This doesn't piss me off. Even if 5 people do it all in one week. Things happen.

Personally, if I make plans to cook dinner for someone or go to an opera or go see a recital that someone's in, unless something is dire (illness, emergency babysitting, or other reason), I try not to cancel on people. Like I won't cancel plan A w/ someone, just because a better plan B comes along. Much as I wish people would reciprocate and not double/better deal, I'm not even expecting this of people.

However, is it too much to ask people to exercise common courtesy?

I've often felt like cancelling plans like shows, etc., perhaps b/c I'm not feeling well, or I'm suddenly not into the idea, but I don't, b/c I don't like backing down on my word. I like to follow through on things I said I'll do.
I've been to many shows/recitals/concerts that I sometimes didn't feel like going, just to support you.

Well, from now on, I think I'm just going to be selfish with my time.

My delusions about pristine organics tainted

Now, I'm not one of those people who insist on everything organic. Personally, I'd rather buy "not necessarily organic" things at the farmer's market, where veggies have traveled 50 miles, than organic avocados from Whole Foods that have come from Chile or Turkey. I also don't care if my eggs come from chickens that don't eat organic feed, and are therefore not organic.

The idea of insisting that my chickens eat organic feed when a large percentage of the world population doesn't have access to food period is a bit odd to me, but that is another blog entry.

However, the one thing I do get organic is salad greens. Not only organic, but triple or quadruple washed as well. I know that it's fallacious to associate "organic"--and even triple washed--with "clean", but for years, I have been buying organic pre-washed salad greens just so I don't have to wash them.

I will pre-cut fruit to bring to work, shell fava beans, peel chestnuts to make chestnut rice, occasionally make vegetable broth and ricotta cheese from scratch, but the one thing I really can't be bothered doing is washing my salad. (Unless I have people over.) I don't mind the washing part so much as the letting-it-dry part.

I don't like soggy wet greens, and I don't want to wait for it to dry or take the time to pat it dry, so this ends up being a big barrier to eating salad greens.

(And yes, I am aware of the existence of salad spinners. Every time I go into a kitchen gadget section, I stare at it and weigh the pros and cons of owning one, but the simple fact is that I do not have room to store it anywhere. Also, I do not believe in buying gadgets that can only do one thing. Not economically efficient. As soon as they invent the salad spinner that also chops and kneads dough, I will buy it, but for now, it's not worth owning one.)

Enter prewashed organic salad greens--well, prior to September 2006. This was my answer to my dilemma and utter lack of interest in washing salad greens.

However, thanks to this recent spinach E-coli scare, my delusions about organic prewashed salad greens being exempt from harmful microbes have now been completely shattered.

I think that I will eventually default back to my original state of not washing organic pre-washed salad greens, but for the past few weeks, this has been my pattern at the farmer's market.

0.5. I go to the farmer's market with list in hand. At the top of the list is always "salad greens".
1. I think "oh, I want some salad." as I linger over the organic (still pre-washed) salad greens at the farmer's market. (usually my very first stop.)
2. I think, "wait. I bought salad greens last week and ended up not having salad, b/c I have this hangup about washing my salad greens."
3. But I'm really craving salad, so this week, I resolve to make an effort to wash them.
4. With this determination, I buy the salad greens and move on to the next stand.
5. I get home.
6. About 5 nights out of the week, it occurs to me to have salad with my dinner. However, I neither want to risk getting E-coli if I don't wash the greens nor deal with washing the greens.
7. I end up not having salad, b/c I'm hungry and want instant gratification. Instead, I opt to spend an hour cooking something else.
8. Somewhere towards the end of the week, I discover a bag of brown wilted salad greens that I bought weeks ago and toss it in the trash.
9. Another week ends. It's time to go to the farmer's market again.

And thus, steps 0.5-9 become a sort of recursive function.

This morning, though, I was finally able to break this vicious cycle and not purchase any salad greens. It took me several visits to the salad place and every ounce of self control to not get them.

Who would've thought that I'd ever feel "virtuous" for not buying salad greens?

Asians do not have "slanted" eyes.

I have dealt with comments such as this throughout my childhood while growing up in a semi-metropolitan area in Northern N.J., but in my nine years of being in the Bay Area, have never really encountered the sort of comment that my co-worker made the other day that had me quite riled up.

This woman, ordinarily a really nice woman, keeps telling people that she has "slanted eyes like those Asians", b/c Genghis Khan raped her ancestors and so she has Asian blood.

Where to begin my rebuttal/rebuke. . .

First of all, I have asked a bunch of people at work about whether this woman looks "Asian" at all, and there seems to be unanimous consent that she doesn't look the least bit Asian.

Second, I thought Genghis Khan only made it to around Russia, but assuming he or his descendants made it to Switzerland or thereabouts, this was in the 13th century. 800 years ago. Now, perhaps, it's very possible to lose all other Asian features but have this one feature remain over the course of 800 years, but I find it highly suspicious that someone can have "slanted eyes", just because back in 1200, one of their ancestors was raped by Genghis Khan. Sometimes, it is even difficult to discern "Asian" features in someone who is one-eighth Asian.

Third, there are many studies out there that suggest that Genghis Khan may not have been a mongoloid.

And most importantly, we do not have slanted eyes. Back in the early 80s, maybe to some ignoramuses (such as my high school classmates), we had slanted eyes. At the turn of the century, we had slanted eyes, and during World War II, we were yellow and had slanted eyes, but come on lady. This is the 21st century. Actually, we never really had "slanted" eyes in the past either.

Let's be precise here. We have epicanthic folds, and perhaps smaller eyes, hidden eyelids, or "almond-shaped" eyes, but my eyes are neither slanted nor mere slits. They are straight like Caucasian eyes. They are not at an angle, as portrayed by many cartoons, which cause people to think that the proper word to describe our type of eyes as "slanted".

This woman's comment wouldn't piss me off so much if she didn't act like this was a defect. In fact, she said she had eye surgery done to "fix" this, as if this were a problem that needed fixing.

Thanks to the pervasiveness of mentalities such as hers, I've spent most of my childhood and part of my adulthood thinking that these epicanthic folds and my "flat nose" are ugly. I never learned to see Asians as pretty or in the case of men, handsome, probably until these last 10 or 12 years of my life.

Whereas this was unfortunately a ubiquitous attitude in the east coast, thankfully, here in the Bay Area, this attitude is almost non-existent, but every once in a while, I meet people like this and wonder-- damnit, are these people here--underneath their shroud of multiculturalism and tolerance and all that kumbaya stuff--actually no different from people from my home town?

Oh, and btw, on a similar note, I really don't need to be told that so-and-so is black, but is smart. (What do you mean but?) I know that you're saying this to be complimentary and respectful to so-and-so, who is black, but it's really not at all complimentary. Think about it. You would never make qualifying statements like that about caucasian people. Why do people automatically assume that we are going to think that someone isn't smart just because of their race?

Why sixty degrees?

Chocolate--it is probably among my top five favorite foods, but. . .

they didn't perfect it quite enough, imo. The only thing I have to complain about this otherwise divine creation (well, ok, other than the fact that one can't stuff oneself silly with it and not gain weight. . .) is the utterly impractical ideal storage temperature it demands: 60 degrees (F). Neither room temperature nor fridge temperature, but vexingly and elusively betwixt these two.

How about 70 degrees, or better yet, 68 degrees? That is room temperature. My apartment, which is on the second floor, may be 68 degrees on a cool day, but hardly ever 60 degrees. Actually, in the winter, I think it may be this cold. But even then, it's usually more like 63 or 65 degrees. In the summer time, however, it may get as high as high 80s or low 90s, and perhaps even hotter on the warmest days. Thus my bar of dark chocolate is banished to the fridge, where the temperature is not 60 degrees either, and where one is not really supposed to store chocolate, if one is a true chocolate afficionado.

You would think that given where cacao beans are grown, and considering the climates of civilizations where cocoa was first used/consumed, that chocolate would be more conducive to storing at higher and more reasonable temperature ranges. Didn't the Aztecs and Mayans live in subtropical climates? (Granted, they used the cacao beans in an entirely different way than we do, and it was actually the Europeans who tweaked this product to make it sweet. . ..)

I wonder if it is coincidence that red wine, which goes splendidly with chocolate, also has similarly impossible "ideal" storage temperatures--as does cheese (which doesn't go as splendidly with chocolate, but goes splendidly with wines, or by itself).

The fine line between academics and propaganda

There really shouldn't be a fine line between academic research and propaganda, but every once in a while, I read something that starts out sounding seemingly scholarly, and then get to the punch line and wonder whether it is actually propaganda.

Take Japan Focus for example. Its articles are posted in serious academic newsgroups. The subjects are academic. I often recognize at least some of the contributors. The list of associates are all reputable people. All of these traits point to the makings of a solidly credentialed scholarly journal, which for the most part, I think this journal is. Although I have read some articles I did not agree with, I have also read some insightful ones.

I don't read all of the articles, but the one that struck my eye this week was an article about Japan's and China's oil activities in Africa.

The article started out neutral enough-- comparing the two countries recent pursuits for fossil fuels in Africa and some background info about the consumption/production of oil for each country.

It then goes into an explanation of recent deals Japan has made with countries in Africa-- Libya, Ivory Coast, Egypt, and Congo. (At this point, I start to wonder about the ethicality of oil attained from potentially war-ravaged countries or countries that are politically unstable, but I confess that other than keeping relatively abreast of current events, etc., I do not know too much about individual African countries, and sometimes lose track of which country is or was in a civil war.)

It also mentions countries that China is pursuing deals with--Nigeria, Angola, among others.

The article carries on like this--comparing the two countries and expounding on some of the key oil deals.

It was mostly fine until I got to this paragraph: "China does not seem to be fussy about where its oil comes from. It gets oil in Sudan, for example, despite the international uproar over the Darfur crisis. To be sure, Japan won concession rights for oil and gas in Sudan in June last year. But the winner, Systems International Group, is a company newly established by a Japanese non-governmental organization, Reliance. It plans to use the profit from oil development in eastern Sudan to finance humanitarian support in Africa."

Hmm. A negative statement about China. Do I detect a bias? It doesn't help that the author is Japanese. Furthermore, Japan isn't exactly dealing with model nations in Africa either, so who is he to point fingers? However, I continue on, willing to give him the benefit of a doubt. Perhaps he is an expert on this topic.

Then I get to this penultimate paragraph: "Unlike China, Japan, the self-proclaimed champion of democracy in Asia, cannot turn a blind eye to poor records on democracy and human rights in many African countries. Japan has applied strict criteria for aid provision to developing countries in Asia, Africa and elsewhere in the world, with democracy and human-rights protection as basic conditions." (emphasis mine)

I stalled for a moment on "Japan, the self-proclaimed champion of democracy in Asia". Ok, perhaps more than a moment, since I'm taking the trouble to blog about this questionable phrase.

Who the heck--other than wartime propagandists--in this day and age would dare to refer to Japan as a "self-proclaimed champion of democracy in Asia"? Does Hisane Masaki actually believe that Japan is a "self-proclaimed champion of democracy in Asia"? Surely, he must know the implications of making such an assertion. Even if this happened to be true today, given Japan's history, it's really stupid to make a statement such as this in an article that criticizes China's lack of concern for human rights.

Appalled by this statement, I googled him to find out more about him and found this page, which also lists more articles by him. His credentials seem solid enough; he has worked long enough in international journalism, that one would expect him to be culturally sensitive and understand the implications of calling Japan a "self-proclaimed champion of democracy" --in Asia of all places.

Of course, it is possible that he sincerely believes this. However, if that is the case, given Japan's history in Asia, he really ought to qualify what he means by this loaded phrase. Perhaps he means that Japan is the highest contributor of humanitarian aid in Asia. (note: I don't actually know this; I'm just proposing possible scenarios of what he meant.) But then, wouldn't it be less ambiguous to just say that instead?

It's amazing how one phrase can shatter the credibility of an expert. I was ready to dismiss this article as an "informative but biased piece" on China and Japan's oil pursuits in Africa, but with this one phrase, it reads more like a propaganda/PR ad for one of these oil companies.

While I understand the idea of intellectual freedom and the importance of reading viewpoints that are contrary to one's own, reading something like this that treads a very fine line between scholarly and propagandistic made me question the editorial discretion of this journal.