Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 2020. 336 pp. (Tables, maps, B&W photos, illustrations.) US$35.00, cloth. ISBN 9780674737617.
In the opening stages of the Pacific War, the Japanese were surprised not only by the speed of their success, but the number of surrendered personnel who came under their control. Within the first five months of the war, they captured over 140,000 Allied servicemen. Traditionally, these POWs are portrayed as victims of Japanese cruelty. In Prisoners of the Empire, Sarah Kovner argues “that there was nothing inherent to Japanese character or culture that led to the inhumane treatment of POWs” (3). Instead, the Japanese government lacked a coherent approach to prisoners of war. In the wake of Japan’s rapid territorial expansion, POWs became an afterthought. Most of the cruelty was unintended.
As the book demonstrates, there were nevertheless cultural and historical factors that shaped Japan’s treatment of POWs. Japan’s earlier tendency toward internationalism became overwhelmed by imperial ambition and militarism. The ideology of bushidō emphasized the importance of spirit over technology and death before surrender. The Japanese no-surrender policy fostered contempt for those enemies who did surrender.
Kovner takes a comparative approach in putting the POW experience in perspective and challenging stereotypical representations. “There was no such thing,” Kovner asserts, “as a typical captivity experience in the Pacific War” (43). The treatment of prisoners varied considerably between camps. As the author points out, it would take an encyclopedia to deal comprehensively with the nearly 400 camps under Japanese control. The study focuses on specific camps in Singapore, the Philippines, Korea, and Japan.
In Singapore alone, 130,000 Allied troops including British Indians, Eurasians, and volunteer forces became prisoners of the Japanese. Another 2,500 civilians were also interned there. The largest number of US servicemen were captured in the Philippines, where the Bataan Death March became iconic of their experience. The Japanese ended up with nearly double the number of prisoners predicted by their intelligence. As in Singapore, lack of planning and indifference shaped Japan’s handling of prisoners.
In contrast to camps in Singapore and the Philippines, POW camps at Incheon and Seoul in Korea were relatively benign. The barracks had heating and prisoners were allowed two baths per week. The death rate for Commonwealth prisoners was under 3 percent. In large part this was because these camps were designed as show camps for favourably impressing an international audience.
In Japan, the focus is on the Fukuoka 1 camp. Not only did conditions at the camp vary over time, but the camp itself was relocated several times. Kovner argues that camp conditions reflected those within Japan more broadly. Japanese civilians suffered from inadequate food and harsh labour along with the prisoners. The US firebombing of Japanese cities in 1945 left millions homeless and further poisoned relations in POW camps.
An important turning point in the prisoners’ plight came on May 30, 1942, when Prime Minister Tōjō Hideki announced that POWs would need to work. Again, Kovner highlights that much of the resulting misery was unintended. The transport of POWs to sites of labour resulted in the deaths of thousands, many from Allied attacks on Japanese shipping. The sinking of the Arisan Maru by an American submarine resulted in more than twice the number of American deaths as the Bataan Death March. Conditions on the notorious Thai-Burma railway mainly reflected a lack of planning and failed logistics. On the other hand, once prisoners were recognized as a resource in Japan’s war effort, some camp commanders took greater interest in their welfare.
Apart from a comparative approach, Kovner’s other analytical tool is an emphasis on gender, race, and class. Camps became sites of competing masculinities. Allied POWs resented their place at the bottom of Japan’s strict military hierarchy. Whereas POWs were outraged by the violence inflicted by guards, Kovner suggests that in the minds of the guards, informal physical abuse was less shameful than official punishment. There were often tensions between Allied officers and enlisted men, too. Whereas officers continued to demand deference, enlisted men resented their privileges in terms of work. Officers bridled against equal treatment with their men and requirements to salute even the lowest-ranking Japanese.
Administrative bodies both within Japan and representing the Allies largely failed POWs. The Prisoner of War Information Bureau first formed by the Japanese government in December 1941 proved impotent. Neither the Swiss legation representing the US, nor the International Committee of the Red Cross were able to effectively monitor the treatment of prisoners.
Even so, Kovner points out that the Japanese were more concerned about how Westerners perceived their treatment of prisoners than Asians. Indeed, it seems non-Western prisoners got the harshest treatment. In Singapore, the 60,000 Indian POWs suffered the worst, with 5,000 dying from malnutrition and disease. In the Philippines, the death rate of captured Filipinos was higher than the Americans. Throughout Asia, the ethnic Chinese were targeted for special abuse.
The book ends with a consideration of prisoners’ repatriation, the war crimes tribunals, and revisions to the Geneva Convention in 1949. A major theme is the Allies’ hypocrisy. By defining Japanese as “surrendered persons” rather than POWs, they were able to abrogate some of their responsibilities under the Geneva Convention. Many prisoners were put to work or used to maintain order amid growing anticolonial violence. Kovner argues that the treatment of alleged war criminals, like the treatment of POWs generally, was “haphazard” (178). At the 1949 Conference on the Geneva Conventions, Japan’s delegates were only allowed to attend as observers, while thousands of Japanese remained captives of the Soviet Union.
This is a significant contribution to the history of the Pacific War and the continuing discourse on prisoners of war more generally. Naturally, not everyone will be convinced by Kovner’s arguments. At times, there is more context than specificity, but overall, Kovner successfully blends military, social, administrative, and diplomatic history into a highly readable study.
Michael Sturma
Murdoch University, Perth