“On the 80th Anniversary of the End of the War” by Japan Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba, Oct.10th
Japan Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba delivered a personal reflection on the previous world war on the evening of October 10, commemorating the 80th anniversary of the post-war era (as the cabinet decided not to issue an official 80th anniversary statement, Ishiba chose to share his personal thoughts).
This statement was made just as he was about to step down, coinciding with the announcement that the long-standing coalition partner, Komeito, would part ways with the Liberal Democratic Party. The reflection essentially addresses one question: "Why did Japan choose the path to war?"
Translate from
https://news.tv-asahi.co.jp/news_politics/articles/900175474.html
Preface
Eighty years have passed since the end of the last war.
Throughout these eighty years, our nation has consistently walked the path of a peace-loving country and devoted its efforts to the peace and prosperity of the world. The peace and prosperity we enjoy today were built upon the noble lives lost and the hardships endured by the war dead and so many others.
Through my visit to Iwo Jima in March; my visit in April to the monument to the Japanese war dead at Caliraya in the Philippines; my attendance in June at the Okinawa All-War Dead Memorial Service and visit to the Himeyuri Peace Museum; my attendance in August at the memorial ceremonies for the victims of the atomic bombings in Hiroshima and Nagasaki; and my attendance at the National Memorial Service for the War Dead on the anniversary of the war’s end, I renewed my vow to etch deeply in my heart the reflections and lessons of the last war.
On the milestones of fifty, sixty, and seventy years after the war, statements by the Prime Minister have been issued. I, too, inherit the stance of successive Cabinets regarding historical recognition.
In those three previous statements, however, there was little discussion of why that war could not be avoided. Even in the seventieth-year statement, while it notes that “Japan attempted to resolve its diplomatic and economic deadlocks through the use of force, and the domestic political system failed to serve as a brake,” there was no further elaboration.
Why did the domestic political system fail to function as a brake?
Given that, after World War I, the world had entered an era of total war, the forecasts of bodies established before hostilities—such as the “Institute for Total War Studies” set up by the Cabinet and the Army Ministry’s so-called “Akimaru Organization”—held that defeat was inevitable. Many informed observers also perceived how difficult prosecuting the war would be.
Even as the government and military leadership recognized this, why were they unable to make the decision to avoid war, instead plunging into a reckless conflict that cost the lives of countless innocent people at home and abroad? Why, despite former Prime Minister Yonai Mitsumasa’s admonition—“In trying to avoid gradual impoverishment, let us be careful not to leap into utter ruin”—was there no major course correction?
At this eightieth-year milestone after the war, I wish to consider these questions together with the people.
Problems under the Constitution of the Empire of Japan
First, we must note institutional problems of the time. Prewar Japan lacked a mechanism to properly integrate politics and the military.
Under the Constitution of the Empire of Japan, the supreme command—the authority to direct the armed forces—was treated as independent. As a result, the principle of “civilian control,” by which civilians in politics must always be superior in the relationship between politics and the military, did not exist institutionally.
The Prime Minister’s authority was also limited. Under the Imperial Constitution, the Prime Minister and all other ministers of state were regarded as equals; although the Prime Minister was the head, he was not institutionally vested with command authority to lead the Cabinet.
Even so, up through the time of the Russo-Japanese War, the genrō (elder statesmen) played the role of integrating diplomacy, the military, and finance. Having served as warriors and engaged in military affairs, the genrō understood the military well and were able to control it. To borrow the words of Maruyama Masao, the “mediation of extra-constitutional figures such as the genrō and senior statesmen” played an important role in unifying the will of the state.
As the genrō gradually passed from the scene and these informal mechanisms waned, political parties under Taishō Democracy attempted to integrate politics and the military.
Amid the great global upheavals following World War I, Japan became one of the main actors in international cooperation and served as a permanent member of the League of Nations. In the 1920s, as seen in Shidehara diplomacy, imperial expansion was restrained.
During the 1920s, public opinion was harsh toward the military, and political parties advocated large-scale disarmament. Military officers felt marginalized; the backlash against this is said to be one background factor in the rise of the military during the Shōwa period.
Traditionally, supreme command was limited to military orders concerning operational command; matters of military administration, such as budgets and organizational arrangements, were interpreted and administered as subjects for ministerial assistance by ministers of state within the Cabinet. In effect, the institutional absence of civilian control was being covered—first by the genrō, then by the parties—through administrative practice.
Problems within the Government
Gradually, however, the meaning of supreme command was expanded. The military came to use the independence of supreme command as a means to exclude government and parliamentary involvement and control over overall military policy and budgets.
During the era of party Cabinets, parties engaged in mutual scandal-mongering to seize power, losing the trust of the public. In 1930, the opposition Rikken Seiyūkai, working with part of the Navy to shake the Rikken Minseitō Cabinet, fiercely attacked the government over ratification of the London Naval Treaty, alleging it infringed the prerogatives of supreme command. The government barely managed to ratify the treaty.
In 1935, regarding constitutional scholar and House of Peers member Minobe Tatsukichi’s “Emperor-as-Organ Theory,” the Rikken Seiyūkai denounced it as ammunition against the government, and the issue developed into a political controversy that also drew in the military. Prime Minister Okada Keisuke’s Cabinet initially tried to distance itself politically, saying that questions of scholarly doctrine “can only be left to scholars,” but ultimately yielded to the military’s demands and issued, twice, “National Polity Clarification” statements denying the Emperor-as-Organ Theory, which had been regarded as the conventional view; Minobe’s works were subsequently banned.
In this way, the government lost control over the military.
Problems within the Parliament
Parliament, which should have exercised control over the military, also lost that function.
The prime example was the expulsion of House of Representatives member Saitō Takao. On February 2, 1940, at a plenary session of the House, Saitō criticized the quagmire of the war and sharply questioned the government about its aims—the so-called anti-military speech. The Army reacted vehemently, claiming the speech insulted the Army, and demanded his resignation. Many members followed suit, and Saitō was expelled by an overwhelming majority, 296 to 7. This was a rare case of a member trying to fulfill his role within Parliament, yet even today two-thirds of the minutes from that session remain deleted.
In budget deliberations—crucial to parliamentary control of the military—the Diet can hardly be said to have exercised any checking function. From 1937 onward, a Special Account for Extraordinary Military Expenditures was established, and from 1942 to 1945 nearly all military expenses were placed in special accounts. For those accounts, no breakdowns were provided in the budget documents; deliberations were held essentially in secret in both the House of Representatives and the House of Peers; and the time allotted was extremely short—hardly worthy of the name of deliberation.
Even as the war situation deteriorated and finances grew strained, the Army and Navy fought fiercely over budgets for the sake of organizational interests and pride.
We must also remember that in the late Taishō and early Shōwa periods, over fifteen years, many politicians—including three sitting prime ministers—were assassinated by ultranationalists and young officers. Those killed were, without exception, politicians who valued international cooperation and sought to control the military through politics.
These incidents—including the May 15 Incident and the February 26 Incident—greatly hindered the ability of civilians, including members of Parliament and government officials, to debate and act freely on military policy and budgets.
Problems in the Media
Another factor that must not be overlooked is the media.
In the 1920s, the media were critical of Japan’s external expansion; as a journalist, Ishibashi Tanzan argued that Japan should relinquish its colonies. But around the time of the Manchurian Incident, the media’s tone shifted to active support for war. War reporting “sold,” and newspaper circulations rose greatly.
Triggered by the 1929 Great Depression in the United States, Western economies were badly damaged and turned to high tariffs in the name of protecting domestic economies, delivering a severe blow to Japan’s exports.
Against the backdrop of deep recession, nationalism surged; the Nazis rose in Germany and the Fascist Party in Italy. Among the major powers, only the Soviet Union seemed to be advancing; in intellectual circles, arguments spread that the era of liberalism, democracy, and capitalism was over, that the age of Britain and the United States had ended, creating fertile soil for accepting totalitarianism and national socialism.
In this context, elements of the Kwantung Army launched the Manchurian Incident and, in barely a year and a half, occupied lands several times larger than the Japanese home islands. Newspapers reported this extensively; many citizens were dazzled, and nationalism grew even stronger.
As for Japanese diplomacy, there were sharp critiques—Yoshino Sakuzō criticized the military’s actions in the Manchurian Incident, and Kiyosawa Kiyoshi harshly criticized Matsuoka Yōsuke’s withdrawal from the League of Nations. But from around the autumn of 1937, strengthened speech controls muted criticism of policy, and only pro-war rhetoric was communicated to the public.
Problems of Intelligence Collection and Analysis
We must also re-examine whether our government and nation correctly grasped the international situation. For example, while negotiating with Germany a military alliance aimed at the Soviet Union, the German-Soviet Non-Aggression Pact was concluded in August 1939, leading the Cabinet of Hiranuma Kiichirō to resign en masse, declaring that “Europe has entered a new situation so complex and mysterious.” There were issues as to whether sufficient information on international and military affairs had been collected, whether obtained information had been correctly analyzed, and whether it had been appropriately shared.
Lessons for Today
In postwar Japan, civilian control has been established institutionally. The Constitution of Japan stipulates that the Prime Minister and other ministers of state must be civilians. The Self-Defense Forces are placed under the command of the Prime Minister under the Self-Defense Forces Act.
The Constitution clearly states that the Prime Minister is the head of the Cabinet and that the Cabinet bears collective responsibility to the Diet, thereby securing the unity of the Cabinet institutionally.
Furthermore, the National Security Council has been established to strengthen comprehensive coordination of foreign and security policy. Government systems for intelligence collection and analysis have also improved. These must continue to develop in step with the times.
Based on the bitter experience that, in the absence of a mechanism to properly integrate politics and the military, the armed forces ran amok in the name of the independence of supreme command, institutional remedies have been put in place. Yet these are institutions; if not operated properly, they are meaningless.
On the political side, there must be sufficient capability and discernment to make proper use of the Self-Defense Forces. We must correctly understand today’s system of civilian control and make constant efforts to operate it appropriately. Politicians must have the pride and sense of responsibility not to succumb to irresponsible populism or be swept along by the prevailing tide.
For the Self-Defense Forces, from their standpoint as a professional organization, it is required that they actively explain to and advise politics on international military conditions surrounding our nation, equipment, and the operation of units.
Politics bears the responsibility to overcome organizational silos and achieve integration. We must not allow organizations to carve out fiefdoms, clash with one another, and lose sight of Japan’s national interest. We must take to heart the lesson of history: the Army and Navy prioritized their own organizational logics and confronted each other; even within each, military operations and administration lacked coordination; and, without unifying the national will, the country as a whole was led into war.
Politics must always consider the interests and welfare of the entire people and strive for rational judgments with a long-term perspective. When responsibility is unclear and situations reach an impasse, bold voices and daring solutions—however low their chance of success and high their risks—tend to be accepted. Admiral Nagano Osami, Chief of the Naval General Staff, likened going to war to surgery: “There is considerable cause for concern, but to cure this grave illness, there is no choice but to make a great resolve and decide to remove the national peril.” He also said, “The government has judged that not to fight would mean national ruin; yet fighting, too, may lead to ruin. However, if the nation perishes without fighting, it would be true ruin, with even its soul lost.” Army Minister Tōjō Hideki is said to have pressed Prime Minister Konoe Fumimaro by saying, “At times a person must close his eyes and leap from the Kiyomizu stage.” We must never repeat a history in which mentalistic and emotional judgments overshadow calm, rational decision-making and set the nation on the wrong course.
It is Parliament and the media that must act as brakes to prevent mistaken government decisions.
The National Diet must exercise the powers granted by the Constitution and properly check government activity. Politics must never pander to momentary public opinion, pursue popularity policies, and run for partisan advantage and self-preservation at the expense of the national interest.
We need a healthy sphere of discourse, including journalism animated by a sense of mission. In the last war, the media fanned public opinion and ended up leading the people into a reckless war. We must not fall into excessive commercialism, nor tolerate narrow nationalism, discrimination, or xenophobia.
We can never condone the trampling of politics by violence, including the incident in which former Prime Minister Abe lost his precious life, nor discriminatory speech that threatens free expression.
The foundation of all this is a posture of learning from history. Above all, what matters is healthy and resilient democracy and true liberalism—possessing the courage and sincerity to confront the past and the tolerance to listen humbly to others’ claims.
As Winston Churchill incisively observed, democracy is by no means a perfect form of government. It requires cost and time and sometimes errs.
Precisely for that reason, we must always remain humble before history and engrave its lessons deeply in our hearts.
Maintaining a capable organization of force for self-defense and deterrence is extremely important. I cannot take a position that denies the theory of deterrence. Under today’s security environment, this is the reality for conducting responsible security policy.
At the same time, if an organization of force possessing unparalleled power in a country were to run out of control beyond democratic oversight, democracy—being fragile—could collapse in an instant. Nor is it impossible for civilian politicians to err in judgment and rush headlong into war. The necessity and importance of civilian control and proper civil-military relations cannot be overstated. Government, Parliament, the organs of force, and the media must all remain constantly aware of this.
In his anti-military speech, Representative Saitō Takao argued that world history is a history of war and that in war it is not justice that prevails but the strong who subjugate the weak; he warned that ignoring this reality and hiding behind the noble name of a “holy war” must not be allowed to cause errors in the state’s grand designs, and he advocated policies grounded in realism—only to be expelled from the House of Representatives.
At the following year’s House Committee on the Civilian Air Defense Act, the Army Ministry stated that citizens’ evacuation during air raids would signify the breakdown of the will to continue the war and rejected it.
Both may seem like distant events, but they speak volumes about the abandonment of parliamentary responsibility and the terror of rampant spiritualism and disregard for human life and human rights. Without facing history squarely, there can be no bright future. Now, when our nation faces the severest and most complex security environment since the war, we must reaffirm the importance of learning from history.
As the number of people with living memories of the war dwindles year by year and we fear the fading of memory, it is all the more essential that each and every citizen—including the younger generation—think actively about the last war and about the nature of peace, and apply those reflections to the future. In so doing, I believe the foundations of our nation as a peace-loving state will be further strengthened.
Together with the people, I will do everything in my power, drawing on the many lessons of the last war, to ensure that such a calamity is never repeated.
October 10, 2025 (Reiwa 7)
Prime Minister
Ishiba Shigeru

