On December 10, 2000, at the Kudan-Kaikan Hall in Tokyo, Japan, former Japanese Imperial soldiers Kaneko Yasuji and Suzuki Yoshio publicly confessed to their wartime atrocities. This monumental confession took place during the Women's International War Crimes Tribunal on Japan’s Military Sexual Slavery (hereinafter the 2000 Women’s International War Crimes Tribunal), a five-day event commencing on December 8. As a civilian-led international human rights tribunal, the initiative sought to bring historical closure to the twentieth century deeply scarred by war and violence.
While the Allied Powers conducted ‘the International Military Tribunal for the Far East (1946–1948, hereinafter the “Tokyo Trial”) to hold Japan accountable for its wartime aggression, it remained silent on the pervasive sexual violence and war crimes inflicted upon Asian people. The 2000 Women’s International War Crimes Tribunal, organized through the collaborative efforts of victims, NGOs, and international legal experts from over ten Asian countries including Korea (South and North Korean joint prosecution team), China, and the Philippines, aimed at rectifying this historical oversight and to demand accountability for the Japanese military “Comfort Women” system.
Notably, this tribunal featured not only the victims—the living testaments to the “Comfort Women” system—but also the perpetrators themselves: former Japanese soldiers who came forward to deliver public testimonies. They provided detailed accounts of their direct involvement in establishing and operating wartime “comfort stations.” Their testimonies unequivocally stated that the “Comfort Women” system was a product of the structural planning and execution by the Japanese military.
While testimonies from countless victims of the “Comfort Women” system have come to light, first-hand testimonies from perpetrators themselves have remained rare. This imbalance stems from the Tokyo Trial, which prosecuted only a handful of military leaders. Furthermore, amid the intensifying Cold War, the San Francisco Peace Treaty was concluded under terms favorable to Japan, further blurring the boundaries of war responsibility. In this process, the majority of the Japanese public distanced themselves from the perception that they were perpetrators who had participated in aggressive warfare. Instead, they developed a dual consciousness that framed themselves as victims of both their own militaristic leadership and the Allied Powers. Within this postwar sociopolitical atmosphere, it was exceedingly difficult for perpetrators to come forward and confess to their crimes.
Yet, at the 2000 Women’s International War Crimes Tribunal, Kaneko Yasuji and Suzuki Yoshio refused to remain silent. It is noteworthy that these two former soldiers, whose testimony resonated so profoundly, were members of the Association of Returnees from China (Chūgoku Kikansha Renraku Kai, hereinafter “Chukiren”). Formed by Japanese nationals who underwent war crimes trials in New China (the People’s Republic of China, established in 1949) and were repatriated in 1956, Chukiren acted as an anti-war and peace advocacy group. From its founding in 1957 until its dissolution in 2002, its members dedicated forty-five years to consistently testifying about their wartime atrocities and offering apologies. Their testimonies at the 2000 Women’s International War Crimes Tribunal were a continuation of these lifelong efforts, marking one of their final official public acts just two years prior to the association’s dissolution. What, then, enabled the members of Chukiren to consistently pursue atonement throughout their lives—a phenomenon that remains highly rare in postwar Japan?
In the aftermath of World War II, China was liberated from Japanese occupation, only to be immediately plunged into the Chinese Civil War, which lasted until 1950. This internal turmoil explains why New China’s war crimes trials were delayed until 1956, in contrast to the Class B and C war crimes tribunals conducted by the Allied Powers (including the U.S.), which were largely concluded before 1950. Underlying this delay was a political calculation: amid the intensifying Cold War, the newly established Chinese Communist Party (CCP) government—which emerged in the wake of the civil war—sought to secure its international legitimacy through these trials.
Meanwhile, on August 9, 1945, in the final days of World War II, the Soviet Union entered the war against Japan, detaining approximately 600,000 Japanese prisoners of war and military auxiliaries to utilize as a labor force for postwar reconstruction. Historically known as the “Siberian Internment,” this event resulted in the deaths of over 60,000 individuals due to harsh conditions, and subsequently became a cornerstone of Japan’s postwar victimhood narrative. While most of the surviving prisoners were repatriated prior to 1949, 2,467 suspected war criminals remained in Soviet custody, 969 of whom—classified as suspects of atrocities committed in China—were transferred to China in 1950 and housed at the Fushun War Criminals Management Centre. This transfer, initiated at the suggestion of Soviet leader Joseph Stalin, served as an apology for Moscow’s support of the Kuomintang during the Chinese Civil War. Simultaneously, it was intended to allow the newly established Chinese communist government to conduct its own tribunals, thereby demonstrating its sovereignty and securing formal recognition from the United Nations.
Life within the Fushun War Criminals Management Centre was markedly different from what the war criminals had anticipated. The management displayed a degree of leniency that the facility staff—many of whom were themselves survivors of Japanese atrocities or bereaved family members of victims—found exceptionally difficult to accept. In accordance with international law and humanitarian principles, the staff treated the criminals humanely, providing ample, nutritious meals and even exempting them from forced labor. Instead, the criminals were required to undergo an emotionally demanding process of education and self-reflection centered on renzui (acknowledgment of guilt) and tanbai (truthful confession). They were pushed to confront the gravity of their actions from the perspective of their victims and to comprehend the implications of their own crimes within the overarching structure of the war. This prolonged period of deep reflection and education fundamentally transformed the Japanese war criminals, leading them to realize that their atrocities were unpardonable and vow to dedicate the rest of their lives to atonement.
Following this rigorous process of renzui and tanbai, only 45 of the approximately 1,000 war criminals detained by the Chinese government were ultimately brought to trial. Even those indicted were spared capital punishment and life sentences, receiving only fixed terms ranging from 8 to 20 years. Moving beyond mere retribution, New China utilized these “lenient trials” and the transformative process of renzui to foster new subjects dedicated to lifelong atonement. This experience of profound self-reflection provided the enduring momentum that propelled these men to continuously bear witness to their own war crimes, sustaining their commitment to the anti-war and peace movement throughout the remainder of their lives.
In 1956, the vast majority of Japanese war criminals, excluding the forty-five who were formally indicted, were repatriated to Japan. Immediately upon their return, they initiated efforts to organize Chukiren, which was founded the following year, in 1957. Despite the inevitable dissolution of the organization in 2002 due to the aging and passing of its members, the association sustained a passionate, forty-five-year activism dedicated to anti-war and peace advocacy and the fostering of Sino-Japanese friendship.
Chukiren placed particular emphasis on publishing and public testimonies. The cornerstone of these activities was the 1956 publication of the book Sankou (三光), which was compiled during the organization’s preparatory phase. Sankou is an anthology of written accounts in which the war criminals documented their atrocities as concretely and objectively as possible during the renzui sessions at the Fushun War Criminals Management Centre. Published a decade after the war, the book generated a profound societal response in a postwar Japan where awareness of wartime horrors was beginning to recede. The title “Sankou,” which translates into “Three Alls”—"kill all, burn all, loot all” (殺光・焼光・搶光)—references the Japanese military’s atrocious scorched-earth operations against anti-Japanese resistance bases in North China. Although the book gained monumental traction, selling approximately 200,000 copies within its first two months, it faced severe backlash, including being pulled from circulation due to attacks by right-wing extremist groups. Through this ordeal, Chūkiren recognized the immense social impact of their perpetrator testimonies, which prompted them to integrate publishing and public testimony activities.
Seeking concrete ways to make amends to the Chinese people, Chukiren actively engaged in the exhumation and repatriation of the remains of Chinese victims of forced mobilization. Given that a significant majority of the membership consisted of former soldiers, military police (kempeitai), and Manchukuo police officers, many had been directly or indirectly involved in forced labor recruitment operations (the so-called “rabbit hunts”).[1] Confronted with the reality that individuals conscripted under their command or through operations they directly facilitated had perished under forced labor in Japan, and that their remains were left unable to return home, Chukiren members pursued the repatriation of these remains as an ongoing practice of reflection and apology. This initiative represented the practical fulfillment of the solemn vow they had taken upon their repatriation, after experiencing New China’s lenient treatment: “to atone for our crimes through action.”
In February 1958, the “Liu Lianren Incident” came to light when a Chinese man named Liu Lianren was discovered in the mountains of Hokkaido. Abducted during a wartime “laborer roundup,” Liu had been subjected to brutal forced labor at a coal mine operated by Meiji Mining. Fleeing extreme abuse and starvation, he escaped in July 1945 and spent thirteen years hiding in the mountains, entirely unaware of Japan’s surrender. His reemergence deeply shook the members of Chukiren. This encounter with Liu—a living symbol of the forced mobilization system that these returnees themselves might have operated—led them to vividly confront the concrete reality of their victims’ plight. Consequently, as a tangible means of apology and accountability, Chukiren actively collaborated in the repatriation of Chinese forced labor victims’ remains and the compilation of the Registry of Deceased Chinese Prisoners of War.
As its activities persisted over the long term, the scope of victims recognized by Chukiren gradually expanded. A prime illustration of this shift is their engagement with the issue of “Comfort Women.” Chukiren’s initial activity regarding this group was the “Testimony and Study Session on the Issue of Japanese Military ‘Comfort Women,’” held on August 16, 1992, at the Shintomi Community Hall. This session was not independently organized by Chukiren, but was rather held at the request of Nishino Rumiko, a researcher and activist dedicated to the issue. The session appears to have been conceived as a forum to collect testimonies regarding the military sexual slavery system. The fact that Chukiren’s inaugural activity on this issue was prompted by an external request demonstrates that the wartime atrocities they had initially addressed during their postwar renzui process were confined to acts of aggression against the Chinese people.
Although handwritten confessions compiled during the war crimes trials occasionally included accounts of the “Comfort Women” system within the broader category of wartime sexual violence, such as rape, there was a pervasive deficit in awareness regarding the “Comfort Women” issue and the suffering of colonized women outside of China. Immediately following the study session initiated by Nishino, a year-long effort was undertaken to collect “Military ‘Comfort Women’ Survey Cards” from Chukiren members, yielding responses from only 42 individuals—merely 15 percent of the total membership. This low response rate reflects both a lack of awareness among the members regarding the issue and the enduring reluctance surrounding testimonies on wartime sexual violence.
Chukiren’s engagement with the issues of the “Comfort Women” and wartime sexual violence took a more proactive turn with the launch of its official journal, the Quarterly Chukiren, which was established specifically to confront rising historical revisionism.[2] With the emergence of the liberalist view of history (jiyushugi shikan) in the mid-1990s, Chukiren’s perpetrator testimonies—exemplified by the book Sankou—and its activities concerning the “Comfort Women” issue were denounced by revisionists as a “self-flagellating view of history” (jigaku shikan). To effectively and swiftly respond to these revisionist distortions, Chukiren founded the Quarterly Chukiren, a move that subsequently sharpened their focus on the “Comfort Women” issue. Aside from articles documenting the war of aggression in China, the issues surrounding the “Comfort Women” and wartime sexual violence emerged as the most prominently featured themes in the journal. Through these quarterly publications, Chukiren strove to disseminate the realities of the military sexual slavery system and the victims’ ongoing struggles. Ultimately, these counter-revisionist efforts also functioned as a vital process of self-education for Chukiren members themselves.
The perpetrators’ testimonies at the 2000 Women’s International War Crimes Tribunal marked a high point in Chukiren’s activities concerning the “Comfort Women” issue. Their testimonies, however, did not fully reach the Japanese public. Under the political pressure on an NHK documentary about the tribunal—in what came to be known as the “NHK Program Alteration Incident”—the testimonies of Kaneko and Suzuki were censored and removed from the broadcast. As had already been demonstrated by the right-wing attacks surrounding the 1957 publication of Sankou, postwar Japanese society ultimately failed to properly receive the Chukiren members’ testimony about their own perpetration.
For the Chukiren members, who spent their lives testifying to their acts as perpetrators and engaging in anti-war and peace activism in a Japanese society with no ears willing to listen to their stories, their final stage was a war crimes tribunal. Because Kaneko and Suzuki had been exempted from prosecution by the government of the newly established People’s Republic of China in 1956 and had therefore not been brought before the war crimes tribunals in China, the 2000 Women’s International War Crimes Tribunal marked the first time they faced trial for their crimes in the forty-five years since their repatriation.
At the end of the questioning at the tribunal, attorney Higashizawa Yasushi, a member of the Japanese prosecution team, asked Kaneko and Suzuki the following questions.
Higashizawa : Does it not take courage to give testimony like this?
Kaneko : Even in Fushun, I did not speak fully about the rapes I had committed. Rape was something that was difficult to bring out into the open, and the authorities at the center did not press us about matters for which there was no evidence. So, with things like rape, if you kept quiet, the matter could simply pass without being pursued. Of course, my conscience as a human being had begun to awaken by then, so I did confess to some extent. But this really was something terribly brutal. […] When former “Comfort Women” came forward and the issue was raised, I began to feel that I had to speak. Then, when people who knew nothing at all about the reality of the “Comfort Women” during the war began telling lies about the issue, I thought, “I have to say something.” My friends in the veterans’ association will not speak. They have closed their mouths. They are old now, and they have their reputations to think of … But the facts must be passed on as facts. Only those of us who actually took part in carrying out that war can do this, and it is our responsibility. As long as I am alive, I will continue to tell the facts just as they were.
Higashizawa : Mr. Suzuki, does testifying carry the meaning of atonement for you?
Suzuki : Yes. It does have the meaning of atonement. The apology for what I had done did not end with the written statement I prepared in China. That was only one stage. Our process of renzui continues until the day we die. This is not something that can be brought to an end simply by apologizing, but we must still apologize. I think most members of Chukiren feel that way.
The responses of these two men, who voluntarily stood as perpetrators at the twilight of their lives, profoundly encapsulate the enduring spirit of Chukiren. Their answers articulate a shared sensibility among the membership: that the renzui process had not reached its end with their confessions in Fushun, and that indeed, it could never be fully completed within their lifetimes. They sought to shoulder this heavy burden through the commitment of “speaking the truth exactly as it occurred for as long as they lived.” This demonstrates that Chukiren perceived postwar responsibility not as a singular act or declaration of remorse and apology, but as an “endless, lifelong process” of accountability.