Letter From Hiroshima
A Harvard professor on 'Peace’
Manosh Chowdhury
I went to Satake Memorial Hall, the university auditorium, to hear a Harvard professor speak on the topic of peace. Though it had been just a week since I arrived here on a study program, I went because I was very interested in hearing a Harvard professor speak. Smiling volunteers were distributing Japanese and English versions of his paper. I of course took the English one. They also offered a translation device. I looked at Ichi, my Japanese classmate. He replied in Bangla: "Take it. It is easier to take one than to refuse it in Japanese." So I took one. The Harvard professor claimed in his introductory lines that he had something new to offer, which was that a university curriculum should adopt peace studies in its academic programs. No wonder then that he had been giving lectures for the last few days in different auditoriums of Hiroshima and had been traveling to many countries to spread the word. Everywhere in Higashi-Hiroshima you find the expression of "peace", "peace" and "peace". And wherever you look, you see small, green hills. Which are changing to reddish and maroon, then later perhaps to brown, and then towards... who knows what! Maples are the ones the color of flame; so many shades -- yellow to orange, brown to maroon, and a series of red: scarlet, crimson -- you need a color chart. The place reminds one of those hill scenes in the '60s and '70s Bengali films where doctors sent their rich patients to recuperate, and where the camera would zoom in on the ailing hero talking emotionally with the heroine. The only element missing is a beach and the sound of the sea. This is not Hiroshima proper. This is Higashi-Hiroshima, designed to be a small university town. Higashi's topography has more natural curves and colors than Hiroshima. For the people who live in Hiroshima and commute to some office at Higashi-Hiroshima, the latter is meant to be a comfortable place. It's 1500 Yen for a round-trip bus ride of 40 minutes each way, not a huge amount by Japanese standards. The Japanese run from the bus stops to the offices they work at almost without a word to anyone in the mornings; then do the same in the evenings, from office to bus stops. And unlike chattering Bengalis, once on the bus, they sit silently looking out of the windows at the hills. Set amid this natural beauty, Higashi-Hiroshima is essentially a university town. Because of Hiroshima's history, there is a continual emphasis on peace curriculum and peace studies, on related subjects and what they call international cooperation. From the very first day, one feels a pressure to visit the peace museum located in the main town. Yet I did not go, did not attempt the 40-minute bus ride to the city -- it would happen sometime in the future, so why force it? Also, I just couldn't understand why Hiroshima museum was named as peace museum and not museum against US aggression or nuclear-bomb museum. But that must be my problem. Here at the university nobody talks about US aggression during World War II. Or now. Instead, everybody seems to be supportive of current Japanese foreign policy. Regardless of their disciplines, hardly any professor displays any kind of academic interest in colonialism, imperialism, or even in global trade-imbalance. It was shocking for me. It's not that the Bangladeshi situation is very different, yet there are people within and beyond academia you can search out interested in such issues. When, later on, I heard about some British student researching on post-Iraq trans-national relations, I hurried over there to listen to the presentation. The presiding professor, Dr. Yoshida, had clear observations about present-day power politics. A few days later, when I found out about a literature professor working on Japanese colonialism I e-mailed him expressing my interest in talking to him. He invited me over. My new Pakistani friend, Abdur Rahman, drily suggested that I should not get too excited: "Look, here the people all of a sudden close the door. You can find them very enthusiastic in the first few meetings. And then when you begin to think you have a relationship, you find them disinterested." However, I disregarded this and arrived at the professor's office two minutes before the scheduled time, after asking with difficulty for directions from eight different persons. Knowing Japanese is a necessity here. The professor knew three languages: Japanese, English and Chinese. His main thesis was about how Japanese scholars portrayed China in general, and Chinese literature and paintings in particular, as their "Orient". He found this characteristic to be an influence of Western Orientalism, of French and other European 'study' of non-Western societies and cultures. He is presently examining Japanese paintings, and investigating Japanese mimicries of Western styles and genres. It was an interesting session with him. We both agreed that we would keep in touch. But I think I need some tips from Rahman about how I should proceed with the second phase of a 'relationship' with a Japanese since I feel inadequate to the task. But all these came after the Harvard professor's speech on a peace curriculum. Mostly Japanese graduate students, and a few international students -- male and female. And some Japanese professors and officials -- practically all male. Except for a handful of international students, everybody was wearing a suit, which is the unwritten dress code. Everybody was busy trying to set the translating device. I also struggled with it, then gave up. Then the professor came. By this time, very delicately, leaning heads onto their chests, half of the audience had fallen asleep. So it was for the other half the Harvard professor delivered his talk. I had already taken a look at the paper. It claimed to introduce some new approaches to contemporary peace studies. That is, as he saw it, current peace studies tended to define peace negatively, as the absence of violence and terrorism. So peace concepts had been associated with concepts of violence and so on. What he wanted to promote, on the contrary, and which he had been promoting everywhere, was to conceptualize peace in a positive manner -- prioritizing international cooperation as the first step. I am enrolled in IDEC -- Institute of Development and Cooperation, and around me IDEC students were eagerly waiting to take notes. Then, the professor, in his prelude to the talk, mentioned that it was a very significant tour for him since Japan had been seriously involved in the campaign against 'weapons of mass destruction.' So this was the case! The invasion of Iraq was simply a part of the campaign against WMDs! And this Orwellian statement was being made by someone who was proposing a 'new' approach in peace studies! Now I knew the intent of his speeches around the world. And the professor, supportive of the Bush-led war couched in terms of banishing nuclear weapons, is considered as one of the leading advocates of UN peace initiatives. Not surprisingly, he was a non-white American. With each passing day I am amazed by the loyalty of these 'minority' figures to the Bush regime. It is now understandable why Colin Powell, even with all his attempts to justify the aggression, was considered not loyal enough. The present US regime sets the standard of loyalty, specifically for non-white Americans, firmly. And what could be a more appropriate place for such a demonstration than Hiroshima? I just couldn't stop thinking about it, a Harvard professor covering for the Bush war by justifying it as a campaign against WMDs! It kept haunting me. This is particularly crucial at Hiroshima University, where the Japanese government is spending a huge amount of money for overseas students, who come mostly from South-east Asia, China and Africa. The Harvard name has such authority that it superimposes on everything else. He could be quoted for the next few weeks in almost every department. That was where his power lay. The experience was bitter. Two weeks later, when I was invited to another 'peace' lecture at the Satake, I searched for some excuse for not attending. It was not possible, though. Our professor was quite eager that we should be there: the event was for celebrating the 10th anniversary of IDEC. Faced with this prospect, I tried to think of some positive aspects of the anniversary. The peace-related speech was to be given by the director of UNITAR-Hiroshima [United Nations Institute for Training and Research]. An Iranian woman. I also came to know that cultural programs would also be performed by the international students. This sounded better, I thought; an opportunity to meet students from different countries. Graduate students here hardly ever venture out of their offices, or 'laboratories' as they are called here. Cultural performances along with a speech from a UN official from the South? It got me a little more enthusiastic. Manosh Chowdhury is on sabbatical from anthropology department, Jahangirnagar University.
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