PERSPECTIVE ON JAPAN : Atonement Begins With Apology : Public acknowledgment of atrocities committed in World War II is the least the emperor can offer China and Korea.

Japanese culture well knows the power of the apology. Criminals draw reduced sentences if they apologize and show remorse. Business leaders save their companies from the wrath of stockholders by bowing deeply and apologizing for their misdeeds. Politicians save their careers and survive to run again by apologizing for anything from having accepted bribes to keeping mistresses. Even miscreant husbands can re-enter the good graces of their wives by sufficiently abject mea culpas.

Perhaps this tradition explains why the Japanese are arguing among themselves about whether the emperor, when he visits Beijing later this year, should apologize for Japanese atrocities committed in China during the Pacific War; and whether the Japanese government should apologize and perhaps pay indemnities to Korean and other Asian women who were forced into becoming prostitutes for Japanese soldiers during that war.

Japanese take apologies very seriously; they are not lightly given. An American might shrug and say, “What’s the big deal? If an apology helps clear the air, why not go ahead?” But a Japanese is deeply humiliated by having to acknowledge wrong-doing in public. Some people say that this difference reflects what anthropologist Ruth Benedict referred to as the difference between a “guilt” culture and a “shame” culture. Japanese live in a “shame” culture, in which children are taught the difference between right and wrong by being shamed in front of their peers. Americans are taught to feel guilty, giving them a sense of wrongdoing even when no one has seen them misbehave.

Another complication in the debate over an apology is the issue of sincerity. Not only in Japan, but also in Korea and China, a great deal of emphasis is placed on whether statements of regret, conversion and confession are sincere and “from the heart.” In China, during the Cultural Revolution, so-called right-wingers were forced to write repeated self-criticisms until their Red Guard captors were convinced of their sincerity. Similarly, during World War II, the Japanese police and kempeitai (wartime military police) extracted tenko (recantations) from their left-wing prisoners and were always on the look-out for giso-tenko (false recantations).

The social and psychological rationale behind the emphasis on sincerity is two-fold. First, in societies where individuals are strongly constrained by group demands (family, school, workplace or the state), it is all too easy for people to conform outwardly but to maintain their private, perhaps dissident, thoughts. Since this is well-known to everyone, pro forma behavior is often scrutinized for evidence of sincerity. Secondly, in cases where a giso-tenko is suspected, an individual may be asked to repeat his apology many times, so that psychologically he will eventually believe it.

So the problem for Japan is not just whether the emperor can and will apologize to the Chinese. Such an apology would clearly be helpful in promoting smooth future relations. But the long debate over the issue in Japan, the strong dissent voiced by some nationalistic elements and the very careful wording likely to be imposed by the Imperial Household Agency and the Foreign Ministry have already provided an answer to the question of sincerity. The Japanese apology--if and when it comes--will be half-hearted and “politic” in all the meanings of that word. One doubts, therefore, that an apology alone would be enough to satisfy the Chinese.

The Koreans present an even tougher challenge. The Koreans are a proud, passionate people who believe in something called han . In a recent book about Korea, Michael Shapiro described han as bitter feelings that can be “the result of injustices perpetrated by, among others, parents, friends, siblings, a colonial ruler, an occupying army, past governments, the current government, and those who in crucial moments failed to display sincerity.” Koreans, in other words, can hold a grudge for a very long time.

The Korean women now stepping forward to express their han over having been forced into Japanese Army brothels have nursed their grievances in private for 50 years. Many of the women say they are making their anger public only because Japanese officials continue to deny that they were kidnaped or otherwise coerced. Others say they see the attitudes of the wartime soldiers reflected in the Japanese businessmen who come to Korea on sex tours.

Han was also surely an issue in the recent Olympics marathon race where Hwang Young Cho not only won a gold medal for Korea but also defeated a Japanese runner in the process. Hwang said he was inspired by thoughts of Sohn Kee Chung, who won the marathon at the Berlin Olympics in 1936 but was forced to compete under the Japanese flag, using a Japanese name.

Can a sincere apology, and even reparations, dispel such han ? Probably not. Perhaps revenge of the sort extracted at the Barcelona Olympics is more satisfying. Ultimately, in this era of trade friction, revisionist arguments about the nature of the U.S. and Japanese economies, and talk of racism and kenbei (contempt for America), perhaps the most refreshing aspect of Japan’s apology problem is that the United States is not involved. “What’s the big deal? Go ahead and apologize,” Americans are likely to say. Even though this view is obviously colored by their own culture, in this case the Americans are right.