The Axis alliance, consummated among Germany, Italy, and Japan in September 1940, was to have been Japan’s trump card in implementing its vision of a new Asian order directed against the Anglo-American nations. It would augment Japan’s potential power by tying the nation’s destiny to German military accomplishments in Europe, and to Soviet neutrality in Asia, and thereby expel Anglo-American influence from Asia. Time was soon to show, however, that this influence, if anything, grew steadily during the months following the formation of the alliance so that, by mid-1941, the Japanese would feel even more insecure than before. They would find themselves surrounded by the ABCD powers – America, Britain, China, and the Dutch East Indies. Rarely did a diplomatic initiative end in a more complete fiasco.
The tripartite alliance was signed in Berlin on 27 September 1940. It had been negotiated in Tokyo, between Foreign Minister Matsuoka and Heinrich Stahmer, special envoy of Germany who arrived on 7 September.
The timing of these negotiations was crucial. It coincided with a number of important decisions by the United States government. First, the establishment (in mid-August) of a joint Canadian–American defence board, coupled with the ‘destroyers-for-bases deal’, meant that the United States was unmistakably involving itself in Britain’s war. Second, the Roosevelt administration, with the support of the Republican presidential candidate, Wendell Willkie, called for and obtained Congressional enactment of a military draft. The selective service law, passed in mid-September, established a draft for men between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-five. It again was a demonstration of America’s determination to resist German ambitions. These steps, combined with the constant exchanges of views between Roosevelt and Churchill, assured the British of America’s commitment to their survival, and in fact by September it appeared as if the worst was over. Despite the merciless assault by the German air force, Britain had not surrendered, and morale remained high. The very fact that the United States was willing to transfer so many ships to Britain revealed confidence that they would not fall into enemy hands, and that the American leaders had concluded Britain would survive the German assault.
Given these developments, a belated conclusion of a German–Japanese alliance did not have the impact that it might, had it been signed a month or two earlier. An Axis pact in May or June, for instance, might have been psychologically more devastating to the British, who might have been compelled to accede to further Japanese demands in Asia to mitigate its impact. By September, however, Britain could be assured of continued American support, and the United States had already implemented some of its embargoes against Japan. Under the circumstances, there would have been no way in which an Axis pact would cause the Anglo-American powers to soften their stand. On the contrary, the pact could be expected to give them added resolve to stand firm. This was exactly what happened.
Japanese and German negotiators were fully aware of the developing ties between America and Britain, and for this very reason they hoped their alliance would serve to check and reduce the effectiveness of American intervention. By then, as Matsuoka explained at the time, it was becoming obvious that the United States was steadily involving itself not only in European but in Asian-Pacific affairs as well. It was tying itself not just to the British in the Atlantic but to the Commonwealth in Asia and the Pacific. The United States, in fact, would establish itself as a global power, with its influence in the Atlantic, Canada, the Western hemisphere, the Pacific Ocean, and Asia. It followed, then, that henceforth it would be an American-led coalition that Japan had to confront and be prepared to fight. It would no longer be China in isolation, but China assisted by the Soviet Union, Britain, and especially the United States. It would also be unrealistic to single Britain out as the next hypothetical enemy.
Such thinking was evidenced in a number of policy memoranda prepared on the eve of the German alliance. Konoe and the ministers of foreign affairs, war, and the navy agreed, just before Stahmer’s arrival, that, given American policy towards, and military preparedness against, Japan, the latter would have to be ready to use force against both Britain and the United States to achieve its objectives. This was a tall order. Unlike a hypothetical war against Britain alone, which could conceivably be executed with some expectation of success, a war against the combined force of Britain and America would be an enormously difficult undertaking. Matsuoka realized this, and for that very reason he welcomed the opportunity to draw Germany into the equation. His hope was that an explicit alliance between Tokyo and Berlin would either deter American belligerence in Asia or, if war should come, assist Japan in its struggle against the United States.1
German calculations were somewhat different. Hitler wanted to finish off Britain before the United States intervened militarily, and he certainly did not wish Japan to trigger a crisis with America in such a way that the latter would become involved in a global war. What Germany wanted of Japan, Stahmer told Matsuoka, was that Japan should do everything possible to ‘restrain’ the United States and to prevent its intervention in the European war. An Axis pact would, it was hoped, serve these purposes by demonstrating the determination on the part of Germany, Italy, and Japan to stand together. While the three should be prepared for the worst and be ready to join forces together to fight against America should that become necessary, Germany intended to do all it could to prevent a Japanese–American collision, Stahmer stated. Moreover, Germany would be glad to serve as ‘an honest broker’ to mediate differences between Japan and the Soviet Union so that an Axis pact would soon be followed by a Japanese–Soviet entente. These ideas revealed Berlin’s determination to focus on the defeat of Britain as the immediate objective. It hoped that this could be achieved before American intervention if a German–Japanese pact were signed expeditiously, to be followed by the Soviet Union’s joining them in an entente. The United States would be left alone in the meantime, in the hope that it would also leave the other powers alone.2
Such German thinking impressed Matsuoka as indicative of the possibility that Germany and the United States might come to terms after Britain’s defeat in Europe. Should that come about, Japan would be isolated once again, with both Germany and America unwilling to let Japan establish its new order over Asia’s colonial areas. To prevent such a development, Matsuoka stated at a meeting of Japan’s top civilian and military leaders on 14 September, Japan had either to tie itself to Germany and Italy, or to America and Britain. Returning to the position of co-operation with the Anglo-American powers was still an option, he admitted, but to do so Japan would have to give up its dream of an Asian new order, accept American terms for settling the Chinese war, and ‘be dominated by America and Britain for at least half a century’. Should that come about, not only would Japan be back where it had been after the First World War, but it would also face a stronger China, with Chiang Kai-shek’s anti-Japanese policy confirmed. These would be the consequences of the policy of reconciliation with the United States, and if Japan did not want it, the only choice left would be co-operation with Germany and Italy. Such co-operation, in Matsuoka’s thinking, transcended merely diplomatic collaboration but entailed joint military action, should that become necessary.
By then the Japanese navy had come to accept the possibility of war with the United States. Its leaders were realistic and continued to insist that in a long, drawn-out war Japan would have little chance of success. But the top naval officials appear to have concluded by this time that a German alliance might possibly make the difference in such a conflict. It might enable Japan to establish itself in South-East Asia, which in turn would provide oil and other necessary resources. If this could be arranged, then even if war should come with America, Japan would be in a much more fortified position. The German allies could also be expected to supply Japan with military equipment and oil from their conquered territories. These, plus the possible participation of the Soviet Union in the pact, might immobilize the United States. The army shared such reasoning. Although its strategists hoped that Britain and America could still be kept separate, they recognized that if Japan were to use force against British possessions in Asia, it might have to encounter American opposition. In such an eventuality, the German alliance, combined with an entente with the Soviet Union, would prove essential.
Matsuoka explicitly stated at a meeting of Japan’s leaders in the presence of the emperor on 19 September, that the Axis pact was ‘a military alliance aimed at the United States’. There is little doubt that Japanese–American relations entered another stage of crisis. Although it would be another fourteen months before war broke out between them, Japan’s struggle against the Anglo-American nations was clearly confirmed in September 1940. Japanese diplomacy and strategy would henceforth be conducted in that framework. Although there was some hope that the alliance would actually prevent a war between Japan and the United States, Japanese leaders now realized such a war was a genuine possibility. The emperor himself expressed the thought that an American war appeared unavoidable, and that Japan might be defeated. Hara Yoshimichi, president of the Privy Council, stated that the United States would be expected to react to the signing of the Axis pact by tightening its economic sanctions against Japan, in effect engaging in an economic warfare with the latter. Matsuoka’s view was that even in such a situation, the German alliance would be useful as Germany could be counted upon to provide Japan with necessary resources. Hara also remarked that the United States might establish bases in New Zealand, Australia, and elsewhere, in order to encircle and contain Japan. Should such moves be considered an act of war, to be responded to by force and thus obligate Germany to come in? Matsuoka said this was a matter that had to be decided by the supreme command. These and other exchanges of views indicate that Japan’s top leaders all recognized the definite passing of an era and the arrival of another in the country’s foreign affairs. The choice, as they saw it, was between succumbing to American pressures or resisting them; the former would imply accepting the American definition of the Asian-Pacific status quo – one that had the support of China, Britain, and the Soviet Union as well – while the latter would lead to the establishment of an entirely new regional order.3
This was also the way American officials viewed the situation. The signing of the Axis pact only confirmed their perception of Japan as ambitious, intent upon establishing a hegemonic position in South-East Asia and the south-western Pacific. Contrary to what Matsuoka expected, and more in line with Hara’s misgivings, the United States did not soften its Asian policy in response to the Axis pact. On the contrary, the Roosevelt administration retained its economic sanctions of Japan and confirmed its support of Britain and China. There were, to be sure, differences of view among Roosevelt’s top aides as to the wisdom of imposing more stringent sanctions on Japan. Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson, Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox, Secretary of the Treasury Henry Morgenthau, and Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes were emerging as the leading exponents of the tough approach, believing in pushing and punishing Japan till the latter yielded. Others, notably Secretary of State Cordell Hull, believed little would be gained by such action except to bring about a war which every key official thought should be avoided for the time being at least. Roosevelt sided with the moderates, but this was a difference of views regarding tactics. No one was accepting the Japanese logic that the Axis alliance was creating a new situation to which the United States would have to adjust itself. On the contrary, officials in Washington, including Hull, agreed that Japan should be warned that it could not expect America to be impressed with such an alliance and that the best response to it was to confirm the commitment to preserving the status quo. But since the status quo could not be maintained without American involvement, the situation continued to be that of pitting Japanese power against American power in Asia and the Pacific.4
This became clear at this time as the United States responded to related developments in South-East Asia. Simultaneously with German–Japanese negotiations on an Axis pact, small-scale fighting broke out between Japanese and French forces in Indo-China. It will be recalled that towards the end of the Yonai cabinet, the Japanese government had forced the French authorities to close off the Indo-China route to Chungking. Not satisfied with this, the Konoe cabinet decided to seek further concessions, such as the use of Indo-Chinese airfields by Japanese forces, which were to have the right of transit, as well as the supply of provisions for these forces. While negotiations were conducted in Tokyo and Hanoi, Japanese troops stationed along the border crossed it on 23 September and engaged in skirmishes with French forces. Two days later the French surrendered, and Japan’s occupation of northern Indo-China became a fact. Unlike some earlier instances, the crossing of the border had been approved by the top cabinet officials; as they said, Japan was to carry out a ‘peaceful occupation’ of Indo-China, but if the French resisted, force would have to be used.5 In the event, French resistance was minimal, but it did not change the story. The Japanese had invaded and occupied another country. Although the Axis alliance had not yet been concluded, Washington reacted at once, embargoing the export of all types of scrap iron to Japan.
A parallel development was the series of negotiations between Japanese and Dutch officials concerning the supply of East Indies oil and other resources. Kobayashi Ichizō, minister of commerce, was sent to Batavia for the talks in mid-September, but negotiations dragged on as the Dutch counted on American support and refused to grant Japanese demands for oil concessions in the colony. The most they would do would be to offer Japan a certain quantity (1.3 million tons was mentioned in October) of oil to purchase.6 That fell far below what the Japanese were asking, as they obviously were in great need of aviation fuel after the American embargo, as well as other items that would surely be added to the list. Dutch authorities in Batavia worked closely with European and American oil companies in the Indies, which in turn were in constant contact with the government in Washington. The upshot was that even Japan’s ‘peaceful’ advance was being met with stiff opposition linked to a hardening American policy.
As if that were not enough, Britain too was showing its intention of following America’s example. Whereas in July London had agreed to close the Burma Road for three months, by September Churchill and his cabinet judged that the situation in Europe and Asia had changed for the better and therefore that they should refuse to keep the Burma Road closed. With American resolve daily becoming clearer, there was no point in continuing to submit to Japanese pressure. The three-month closing of the Burma Road would end in mid-October, London decided to reopen it then so as to resume shipments to Chungking.
For the Chinese, all this was good news. The Axis alliance, far from impressing them with the fearsomeness of a German–Japanese combination, actually reassured them that Japan would further alienate the Anglo-American powers, a development that would be to China’s advantage. When American Ambassador Nelson T. Johnson in Chungking reported around that time that ‘Chinese morale is now higher than at any time since the start of the Sino-Japanese conflict’, he was undoubtedly observing the Chinese view that the Axis alliance had the effect of linking European and Asian affairs closer together so that the United States and Britain would reconfirm their determination to oppose Japanese aggression in China.7 There was, to be sure, one consequence of the German–Japanese alliance that would be troublesome; Berlin would be pressed by Tokyo to recognize the puppet regime in Nanking as the government of China. Nothing was happening yet, however, as German officials hesitated to take so drastic a step which would serve no useful purpose except obtaining Japan’s gratitude. Their primary concern was Europe, and they feared that Germany’s support of Wang Ching-wei against Chiang Kai-shek would further complicate its relations with the United States and the Soviet Union. Thus, with even Germany hesitating to support Japan on the Nanking, question, the Nationalists could feel the consummation of the Axis alliance made little immediate difference in their struggle against Japan.8
One area where the Chinese showed some concern was the implications of the new alliance for Soviet policy. Soviet officials continued to reiterate that their policy towards assisting China would not change, but at the same time the press was giving prominent coverage to the Chinese–Japanese negotiations in Nanking, as if to create the impression that China was becoming divided.9 This was troublesome from the Nationalist point of view, as was the explicit provision in the Axis pact that it was not aimed at the Soviet Union. From these instances, the Chinese could draw the inference that there might be an improvement in Japanese–Soviet relations and that the latter’s support of China’s war effort might weaken. To some extent such misgivings were justified, as Moscow was encouraging Japanese overtures for an understanding so as to divert Japan’s ambitions away from the north. Much of this, however, was derived from concern with a possible rupture of German–Soviet relations. In the autumn of 1940 German and Soviet forces were converging on Romania and elsewhere in the Balkans, creating a tense atmosphere. Foreign observers were already predicting a clash between the two powers, breaching their non-aggression pact. The New York Times, for instance, printed several news analyses by its staff throughout October, emphasizing the possibility, even the imminence, of a German–Soviet conflict. An editorial entitled ‘Russia in the dark’ (16 October) endorsed such analyses and claimed that the Russians had not been consulted about the Axis alliance and other matters by Germany, and explained that although Stalin would not immediately switch his strategy while ‘profits are to be squeezed out of the devious partnership with the other dictator’, he was becoming more and more uncomfortable with the German partnership. At the very least, the future of German–Soviet relations was uncertain, and under the circumstances the Soviet Union had good reason to encourage Japan’s initiatives for a rapprochement. That in turn would be cause for worry to the Chinese.
Given such a situation, one thing that the Chinese could count on was the unswerving position of the United States and Britain vis-à-vis Japan. They would have been heartened if they had known that in early October Prime Minister Churchill confided that nothing compared ‘with the importance of the British Empire and the United States being co-belligerents’. He believed that American entry into the war against the Axis powers would be ‘fully conformable with British interests’.10 Plans were made for staff talks both in Asia and in Washington among British, American, and Dutch officials for a joint strategy against Japan. It is true that at this stage neither London nor Washington was envisaging full strategic co-ordination with Chinese forces, but the implications were clear; the coming together of Germany and Japan, and even possibly of the Soviet Union and Japan, was only confirming the solidarity of America and Britain, so that the Chinese would find themselves part of a coalition just as the Japanese were trying to establish a global alliance of their own. The Chinese–Japanese War was turning into a conflict between two groups of nations.
TOWARDS AN ANGLO-AMERICAN ALLIANCE
This became confirmed in the late autumn of 1940, when President Roosevelt ran for and won re-election. Both before and after the 5 November presidential election, he explicitly supported Britain’s war efforts, making public his policy of selling the latter airplanes and all types of war material. This was not the issue in the campaign, since Willkie also supported such a policy. But Roosevelt’s third victory had the effect of strengthening his hand domestically so that he would now be even bolder in devising ways of helping the British.
And they needed American help desperately, since their purchases were fast depleting their funds at home and abroad; it was estimated in December that London had only about $2 billion available, whereas it was placing orders totalling $5 billion. Under the circumstances, obviously the United States would have to step in and finance British purchases. How this could be done without violating existing legislation and involving the United States directly in the European war was the key question with which Roosevelt and his aides grappled in late 1940. The answer came in the form of ‘lend-lease’; the United States would ‘lend’ Britain the arms it needed to crush German–Italian ambitions, such arms to be returned to the United States when the fighting was over. The transaction would not involve normal sales or loans, but would create for Britain ‘a gentleman’s obligation to repay in kind’, as the president said. In order to implement the policy, it would of course be necessary for the United States to step up arms production, even diverting productive capacities from consumer goods. As he declared in his famous ‘fireside chat’ on 29 December, the United States must become ‘the great arsenal of democracy’. America’s position was now unmistakably clear. It would help Britain with all means short of war; but ‘short of war’ was a loose enough expression to contain a variety of options. Except for the fact that American soldiers were not yet fighting, the country was on a war footing. The new Office of Production Management, established in late December to co-ordinate civilian and arms production; the lend-lease idea; and the statements being issued daily by the White House and other agencies, all left no doubt of that. As Roosevelt himself noted in the above speech, ‘this is an emergency as serious as war itself. We must apply ourselves to our task with the same resolution, the same sense of urgency, the same spirit of patriotism and sacrifice as we would show were we at war’.11
When the president talked of ‘war’, he did not confine its meaning to the German–British War. Although his speech referred to ‘people of Europe … defending themselves’, and did not mention Asians fighting against Japan, he called on his countrymen to ‘support the nations defending themselves against attack by the Axis’. Since the Axis alliance had recently been concluded, there could be no mistaking the message. While the survival of Britain would be the top priority for the United States, this goal alone would entail defending British interests in Asia as well as Europe. Even more clearly, such an objective could be achieved only through America’s own strengthening, something that would involve fortifying its position in the Pacific as well as the Atlantic. Roosevelt’s definition of America as the arsenal of democracy also implied that the United States would aid all those countries that were democratic and struggling for their liberty. These again were loose concepts, so loose that eventually even the Soviet Union would fall within the definition. In late 1940 there was no question that China fitted the picture. The mere fact that it was struggling against an aggressive power which tied itself to Germany was enough to qualify it for special consideration.
The only issue at the end of 1940 was one of strategic priorities. Granted that America was involved in a global struggle against the Axis powers, it needed to establish a sense of where to place its emphasis in the immediate future. Assuming that it could not do everything all at once, the government in Washington would have to decide the most effective ways of implementing the aid policy. Here all-out aid to the British home isles took precedence. Whatever London asked, Washington would provide. China came next. After the reopening of the Burma Road, shipments from America, and smaller amounts from Britain, were resumed. An agreement with Chungking for a loan of $100 million, announced on 30 November, was the most massive given China by the United States. The funds were to be used at Chiang Kai-shek’s discretion. Equally important, the United States would provide him with fifty pursuit planes, and American citizens would be allowed to serve in China as aviators and aviation instructors. The planes and aviators would be assigned to a volunteer air force which Colonel Claire Chennault would create in Chungking. The air force, officially called the American Volunteer Group but popularly known as the Flying Tigers, would be in place in the autumn of 1941.12
America’s top military strategists, however, were unwilling to go much further at this time. They all shared Roosevelt’s perception that the nation was engaged in a quasi-war, and that it must be prepared for a real war as well. But they were not yet ready to fight a two-front war, against both Germany and Japan. Although ultimately the nation would have to fight them both, the strategists at this time generally agreed with Admiral Harold R. Stark, chief of naval operations, and General George C. Marshall, army chief of staff, that the United States should first concentrate on the Atlantic theatre. Defeat of Germany would take all the nation’s resources and manpower, which should not be diverted to a Pacific war with Japan. The United States should be on the defensive in that part of the world at least until the situation definitely improved in Europe.
The strategy of concentrating on the European war first, and giving the Pacific lower priority, was pushed with vigour by Stark and Marshall. An extension of one of the earlier Rainbow plans, it came to be known as Plan D (or Plan Dog). The problem was that the strategists were not entirely in agreement as to what was involved in a defensive posture in the Asian-Pacific region. Would it entail a defence of the status quo, or would it mean redefining the status quo so that the line of defence would be pushed back to the Hawaiian Islands? That option would, of course, amount to not reinforcing, even abandoning, the Philippines, not to mention Hong Kong, Singapore, and other British possessions which would not be defended by American forces. Such a strategy would have to assume that the British possessions would be defended by Britain, but this was rather unrealistic in view of the latter’s struggle for survival at home. Thus a defensive strategy in the Pacific could mean, at least for the time being, conceding the region west of Hawaii to Japan.
Such thinking was clearly incompatible with the official policy of standing firmly opposed to Japanese aggression and assisting China. The two positions were never fully reconciled. President Roosevelt accepted both, the policy of opposing Japan as fundamental, and that of assigning higher priority to Europe as necessary in the short run. He, and civilian advisers like Stimson, Hull, and Morgenthau, believed that a policy of firmness in Asia, backed up by evidence of material support for China, should deter Japan’s further aggression so that war with it would not occur. The United States, if at all possible, should avoid precipitously provoking Japan or engaging its forces prematurely; but otherwise it should employ the tactic of deterrence by other means, such as diplomatic warnings to Japan, the presence of the fleet in Hawaiian waters, encouragement to British and Dutch authorities in Asia to reject Japanese pressures, and assistance of the Nationalists in Chungking. Beyond these, little specific could be agreed upon. Even as the president approved Plan D in mid-January 1941, its implications remained unclear. At least, the strategy would not be pushed to its logical conclusion as contemplated by the military; its acceptance by Roosevelt would not mean the United States would reduce its commitments in the western Pacific or South-East Asia. On the contrary, even within the parameters of Plan D, the United States would encourage the emergence of an alliance system among the nations opposed to Japanese expansion in Asia.
That was inevitable, given the global nature of American policy at the time. Even if a defensive strategy were to be undertaken in the Asian-Pacific region, its action would be defined in the larger framework of an international coalition. Staff conversations initiated by British and American officials on the defence of Hong Kong and Singapore, while they failed to produce an agreed plan, were themselves evidence that American strategy would be couched in that larger framework. The same was of course true of China and the Dutch East Indies. Chennault was in daily contact with Chinese leaders and was, in November, in Washington to plead for more aid, and in the meantime British and Dutch officials in Asia were discussing a joint strategy, on the assumption that the United States would come to their assistance. Although there was no formal coalition, the constant contact and communication among Chinese, American, British, and Dutch officials and strategists was laying the groundwork for an eventual alliance.13
Japan, in other words, found itself more isolated than ever. The German alliance had not helped, and under American leadership a federation of countries opposed to Japan was coming into being. Even a development like the cancellation of the Olympic Games, scheduled to take place in Tokyo in the autumn of 1940, enhanced the sense of isolation. Of course, the cancellation was a result of the European war, but Japan had tied itself to its fate, and the consequences had not been beneficial. There were few new initiatives that the Japanese could now contemplate, and still fewer alternatives that they would be willing to accept.
In the last months of 1940, they fell back on a tactic that had been tried and found wanting: a political settlement of the Chinese war. As in the past, it entailed a two-pronged approach, one towards Chungking and the other towards Nanking under Wang Ching-wei. On 1 October the ministers of war, the navy, and foreign affairs agreed that Japan should conclude a basic treaty with the Nanking regime and at the same time conduct peace negotiations with Chungking. The former would involve formal recognition of Wang’s government, but if the latter negotiations were to succeed, some kind of a ‘Wang–Chiang coalition’ would become necessary. This dual approach was to be carried out in October, with a view to bringing it to successful conclusion by the end of the month.14 Why Tokyo’s leaders should have been so optimistic, if not totally naïve, is difficult to say. Unless they were being cynical, adopting a policy which they knew had no chance of success, they must have been terribly misinformed of the situation in China. Like their predecessors, they little appreciated the force of Chinese nationalism and innocently believed that the majority of Chinese, whether under Kuomintang influence or not, would rather identify their destiny with Japan than with the Western democracies. Japanese leaders were becoming captives of their own illusions. At least these recommendations indicated that they had little genuine hope for the stability of the Nanking government which they had helped bring into existence. But even here, they could not make up their minds whether or not to terminate the experiment once and for all, which would have been a condition which Chungking would have insisted upon prior to any settlement with Japan. Instead, Nanking had to be nursed along just in case negotiations with Chungking fell through. Such a haphazard approach had no chance of success.
Japan’s desperate situation can be seen in the fact that despite all these problems, and despite the fact that no progress had been made by the end of October, the above recommendations were approved at a meeting of Tokyo’s highest officials in the presence of the emperor on 13 November. They reiterated the idea that peace talks with China must be built on a reunion of Wang’s and Chiang’s governments, which was to be effected before the Nanking government was formally recognized by Japan. In return for such a reunion, the Nationalists would have to recognize Manchukuo, give up its anti-Japanese policy, agree to the continued stationing of Japanese forces in Mongolia, Sinkiang, north China, and the lower Yangtze Delta, accept the presence of Japanese naval ships in south China, and co-operate with Japan in developing resources necessary for national defence. If no agreement on this basis was reached by the end of 1940, Japan would have to be prepared for a protracted war so as to bring Chungking to its knees. That would entail a continued large-scale occupation of China by Japanese troops and the economic development of the occupied areas so as to maximize the production of war-related materials.15
Clearly, a peace settlement on such a basis would have signalled China’s capitulation and transformation into Japan’s semi-colony. There could have been no chance that it would be accepted by the Nationalist authorities. The Japanese were wasting their time pondering such an approach, and the discussions at the above meeting indicated that they sensed it. Army and navy spokesmen stated that either alternative – a speedy settlement of the war through a Nanking–Chungking reunion or a protracted war against Chungking – was extremely difficult to carry out, but that the recent changes in world affairs, including the Axis alliance, gave the nation a real opportunity to emerge as the leading Asian power. It was hoped that the Chinese leaders would share this perception and realize the futility of persisting in their resistance. In other words, the war in China would have to be solved as part of a new global strategy. Somehow, the changed conditions of the international environment would conspire to enable Japan to end the war to its satisfaction. All such thinking reveals profound confusion regarding strategy. It was as if the Japanese had forgotten Clausewitz’s maxim that in war the most important thing is to know who the enemy is. Even while fighting in Manchuria and north China earlier in the decade, they had thought their ultimate enemy was going to be the Soviet Union. That remained the case even after 1937. But now, it was becoming clear that the enemy might not so much be the Soviet Union as the United States and Britain. If so, a global strategy of coalition warfare in the framework of the Axis alliance would become relevant. The war in China would in itself be less significant. Japan, therefore, would be justified in seeking a political settlement of the war so as to minimize its commitment in China and, if possible, to obtain the latter’s co-operation in the global struggle.
The Chinese would not have disagreed with the idea that the war with Japan was becoming part of a larger conflict. But such realization had the effect of further emboldening them, as they became more confident than ever that they would be able to obtain support from Britain and America, particularly the latter. It would be nothing short of foolishness in such a situation to accept the Japanese terms for a political settlement. Although Chiang Kai-shek was not above taking advantage of Japanese overtures to alarm Americans so that the latter would give him more aid, from the beginning it was a foregone conclusion that he would reject any peace with Japan unless it restored Chinese sovereignty.16 Manchukuo might be negotiable, but certainly not the continued stationing of Japanese forces or the existence of a Nanking regime. So the Nationalists gave Japan little encouragement, and the latter finally decided, at the end of November, to go ahead with formal recognition of Wang’s government.
On 29 November, Wang Ching-wei assumed the presidency of the Nanking regime, and on the following day the basic treaty with Japan was signed. The treaty, as seen above, had been negotiated since July, but its final signature had to wait until the puppet regime was installed. While pledging their mutual support and co-operation for the establishment of a new order in East Asia, the signatories also provided for the stationing of Japanese forces in certain parts of China for a period of time – up to two years after the conclusion of the war. Even then, they would be kept in parts of north China, Mongolia, and Sinkiang to ensure against Communist subversion. Wang’s inauguration as head of the new Chinese regime was dependent upon acceptance of such humiliating terms, a fact that augured ill for its future. As if to underline his subservience to Japanese dictates, he also agreed to the issuing of a joint declaration by Japan, Manchukuo, and ‘China’, for tripartite economic and political co-operation. In other words, the Nanking regime was officially recognizing the independence of Manchukuo, and joining it and Japan in an alliance directed against the rest of China. No wonder, then, that the Nationalists in Chungking immediately retaliated by publishing a list of Wang and seventy-six other ‘traitors’, threatening them with severe punishment for betraying their country. Chungking offered a prize for Wang’s head, and Chinese communities throughout the world cabled their outrage at Wang’s ‘madness’ in ‘selling his country’.17 Here again was evidence that by its attempt to find allies, Japan was promoting its own further isolation. Certainly the formal recognition of the Wang regime, coupled with the basic treaty, sealed the fate of any possible negotiation for a reconciliation with the Nationalists and ensured the prolongation of the Chinese–Japanese War.
To make matters worse, the Japanese could not bring themselves to concentrate on that war alone, for the last months of 1940 saw a flurry of planning activities on the part of Tokyo’s supreme command. By then, naval officers in Tokyo had come to accept a Japanese–American war as all but inevitable. This was not because of the Chinese war, but was simply a corollary of the southern strategy. The former was primarily an army affair, and the navy assumed that it would go on for a long time to come. The southern strategy, on the other hand, would have to be carried out on its own terms, and there the navy would play a major role. Not China but the Dutch East Indies were the navy’s main concern. As Admiral Yamamoto Isoroku, commander-in-chief of the combined fleet, explained, Japan needed the Indies’ rich natural resources. If they could be obtained peacefully, so much the better. But if not, Japan would have to use force not only against the Dutch but also against Britain and the United States. This was because the Dutch authorities would succumb to Japanese pressures and offer Japan its resources unless they knew they could count on the support of the Anglo-American powers. In that case the Dutch would resist Japanese demands, but then the resulting Japanese-Dutch war would by definition lead to a Pacific war. Thus, Japan would either have the Indies’ resources peacefully, or it would have war with the three countries. In the latter case, Yamamoto argued, it would be best to take the initiative and attack the Philippines first, to gain an initial tactical advantage, and then be prepared for a counter-offensive by the American fleet. In November the naval fleet was reorganized with that strategy in mind, and plans were drafted for commandeering civilian ships in an emergency. At the end of the month, a war game was conducted at the Naval War College under Yamamoto’s direction. It was concluded that in case of war with the United States, Japan should attack the Philippines, seizing Manila and turning it into a base of operations against the American fleet. Equally crucial, it was noted, would be the use of the Marshall and Bismarck Islands.18
The army still had the Chinese war to carry on, and would have to be prepared for a possible conflict with the Soviet Union. In such circumstances, army leaders felt they could not undertake the responsibility of engaging American forces. They pointed out in their talks with their naval counterparts that Japan was not yet in a position to fight a war with the United States. Like the navy, none the less, the army began operational planning for a southern strategy, and in December the General Staff undertook specific studies of army reorganization, intelligence, and the administration of occupied territory in preparation for a ‘southern war’. But the ‘southern war’ was conceived to be aimed at Dutch and British possessions first, and the emphasis was on attacking Indonesia and Malaya. Although at the end of December the army and naval planners jointly prepared a 1941 war plan and obtained the supreme command’s endorsement, it noted their disparate ideas, and there was no final comprehensive strategy with a definite list of hypothetical enemies.19
About the only area of specific agreement between army and navy strategists at this time was a policy towards Thailand. Both believed that Japanese strategy, whether it entailed the use of force against both Britain and the United States or only one of them initially, would be helped considerably by entrenching Japanese influence in Thailand, situated just west of Indo-China which was already partially occupied by Japanese forces. For some time there had existed a border dispute between Thailand and Indo-China. Thai leaders, anxious to take advantage of Indo-China’s diplomatic distress because of German victories and Japanese pressures, turned to Japan to help them annex some disputed border territory. The Japanese government and military were easily persuaded; by assisting Thai expansionism, Japan would strengthen its position in the area and be able to induce Thailand to enter into a military agreement. The country was in a strategic location in the event of Japan’s executing its southern strategy. At the same time, Japanese officials wanted to ingratiate themselves with French authorities in Indo-China by offering Japan’s good offices in the territorial dispute. In return for moderating Thai demands, they reasoned, Japan could press the French to grant further concessions in southern Indo-China. The use of force to compel the French to accept Japanese mediation was not yet contemplated, but the idea of establishing Japanese influence in southern Indo-China and in Thailand, countries that had hitherto been under European and American influence, reflected Japan’s commitment to a southern strategy. Although the Japanese believed such moves could be taken without their resulting in a military clash with British or American forces, the decision to establish ‘close and inseparable relations’ between Japan and Thailand, as Matsuoka stated at the end of December, was another milestone in implementing Japan’s new Asian order. As of that moment, it could be said that the new order would consist of Japan, Manchukuo, China, Indo-China, and Thailand. Whether the zone of Japanese influence would be expanded would depend on various factors, in particular the European war and American policy, and Japan would have to be prepared for an eventual confrontation with the Anglo-American nations, but at least it seemed possible to extend the new order more or less peacefully to cover Indo-China and Thailand. Consolidation of this bloc would in turn make it possible for Japan to withstand Anglo-American pressures and to seize an opportune moment to try to reduce their influence.20
The focus on southern strategy, which had become confirmed through all such developments, had the corollary that Japan’s ‘northern strategy’, aimed at the Soviet Union, would be put on the shelf for the time being. For the army, to be sure, preparedness against that nation remained a fundamental principle, and some were even concerned that Japan might sooner or later have to go to war against all the principal nations in Asia and the Pacific, including the Soviet Union, the United States, Britain, and China. But for the immediate future, it appeared desirable to stabilize Japanese–Soviet relations. The Japanese army in Manchuria, numbering some sixteen divisions at the end of 1940, would have to be maintained, but otherwise no military engagement with Soviet forces would be contemplated.21
In addition to the passive policy of avoiding trouble with the Soviet Union, the Konoe cabinet reactivated its predecessor’s attempt to effect a rapprochement with it. It will be recalled that just before the Yonai cabinet fell in July, it had approached Moscow with that goal in mind and that the Soviet Union had responded by indicating its willingness to negotiate. But the Japanese government now wanted to go beyond merely maintaining stability across the Russian–Manchukuo frontier, and to bind the two countries closer together. As Foreign Minister Matsuoka reasoned, the signing of the German–Italian–Japanese alliance, coupled with the 1939 non-aggression pact between Germany and the Soviet Union, provided an excellent opportunity for Tokyo and Moscow to reassess their relationship in the larger context of world affairs. Harking back to an earlier theme. Matsuoka argued for an entente among Japan, Germany, Italy, and the Soviet Union as a bloc of revisionist powers opposed to the Anglo-American domination of the world. Such an entente would help Japan establish its new order in Asia; it would not only entail the end of Soviet assistance in China but could also lead to an Anglo-American withdrawal from the Asian-Pacific region. Specifically, Tokyo now proposed a non-aggression pact with Moscow which would be comparable to the German–Soviet non-aggression treaty and in effect divide up most of Asia into two spheres of influence: Japan would grant Soviet supremacy in Outer Mongolia, Sinkiang, and, if necessary, Afghanistan, Iran, and India, in return for which the Soviet Union would recognize Inner Mongolia and north China as Japan’s spheres of influence, and acquiesce in future Japanese advances into French Indo-China and the Dutch East Indies.
To implement these ideas, Matsuoka appointed a new ambassador, Tategawa Yoshitsugu, to replace the veteran diplomat, Tōgō. Although the latter had been a strong exponent of a rapprochement with the Soviet Union, the foreign minister undertook a sweeping change of diplomatic personnel to indicate the coming of a new age in Japanese foreign policy. Tategawa had been one of the conspirators during the time of the Manchurian incident in 1931. A professional soldier, he had also headed an ‘association for the construction of East Asia’, established in 1939 to propagate anti-British and pro-Russian ideas. He shared Matsuoka’s view that Japan and the Soviet Union had much to gain through an understanding that clarified their respective spheres of interest, and believed the two nations could co-operate for the establishment of a new international order on such a basis. These ideas were presented to Foreign Minister Molotov in late October. The latter, however, demurred, especially as the Japanese proposal was silent on the issue of Sakhalin. The Russians wanted to regain South Sakhalin which they had ceded to Japan in 1905; at the very least, they sought a cancellation of the oil and coal concessions in North Sakhalin which had been given to Japan in the 1920s. Negotiations dragged on for several months.
Matsuoka’s idea had been to incorporate the Soviet Union into a four-power entente, so it is not surprising that he should have turned to Germany to help break the impasse. He instructed Ambassador Ōshima in Berlin to seek German intercessions, but nothing came of it. In November, when Molotov visited Berlin and conferred with von Ribbentrop, the latter did mention Japanese–Russian relations and proposed a four-power entente. But these issues were overshadowed by German unhappiness over Soviet action in Finland and the Balkans. The two failed to reach agreement on defining respective spheres of influence, and the meeting ended in failure. Soon thereafter, on 18 December, Hitler decided on an anti-Russian war, code-named Barbarossa. The decision for such a war had already been made in July, but he had waited for the right moment. If he could get what he wanted – land and resources in eastern and south-eastern Europe – without a fight, he would be willing to maintain a truce with the Soviet Union. But sooner or later, he believed Germany was destined to struggle against Slavic peoples. Seeing the Soviets taking advantage of the non-aggression pact with Germany to extend their own influence in the Balkans and elsewhere, he reasoned that he would have to renounce the Russian agreement. The war with Britain had not been won, as he had hoped, and as winter set in he knew it would continue well into the new year. But he reasoned that the longer he waited, the greater would become Soviet power. Confident that the United States would not intervene right away, Hitler thought the British war could be continued in high gear even while he shifted the bulk of his troops eastward. In fact, if he should strike a lightning blow at the Soviet Union and bring it to its knees, a colossal empire would become Germany’s, and all the resources and manpower could be brought under its control, the better to enable it to meet the British and, ultimately, American challenge.
Barbarossa was to be carried out in the spring of 1941. Hitler ordered that all preparations be completed by 15 May. He did not, however, give any inkling of the secret order to the Japanese. Although the Tokyo embassy was informed in general terms about a coming break with the Soviet Union, information that was immediately picked up by Richard Sorge and transmitted to Moscow, the latter did not accept it at its face value. Any such news could be a fabrication by unfriendly hands to confuse the Russians and sow the seed of discord between the two countries. Stalin did not want to reorient his policy on the basis of what he considered flimsy evidence. It would be better, he thought, to continue to court Germany by shipping it the arms and material it requested, rather than risk a premature breach in their relations. The fact that Stalin did not take the rumours of war seriously can be seen in his lack of enthusiasm at this time for a Japanese entente. If he had been more strongly convinced of an impending war with Germany, he would have tried to secure the eastern front by entering into such an understanding right away, even conceding some of Japan’s demands. But he rejected them out of hand, particularly because the Japanese were not offering any concessions on the Sakhalin question. From their point of view, it was out of the question to retrocede South Sakhalin to the Soviet Union or to give up the oil and other concessions in North Sakhalin; to do so would mean returning to the situation before the Russo-Japanese War – something the army could never accept. As a possible way out of the impasse, Matsuoka offered to purchase North Sakhalin rather than dallying in negotiations on its oil concessions, but the Soviet government adamantly refused to entertain such a proposal.
The Japanese bargaining position might have been strengthened if Tokyo had had definite information regarding Barbarossa, but of course this was not the case. Through Sorge his Japanese collaborators found out about German intentions, but they kept the information to themselves. Tokyo’s top military and civilian officials, to be sure, never believed that German–Russian relations would long remain cordial. Already at the end of 1940, some diplomats abroad started sending reports of a growing rift between the two powers. Nevertheless, Matsuoka was wedded to his four-power entente idea. The Axis alliance was for him but one part of the edifice, his favourite new order which must include active Russian participation. Should German–Soviet relations sour, the foundations of his diplomacy would collapse. He did not want to believe in such a possibility, and he persisted in his belief that a Japanese–Soviet understanding would serve to consolidate the four-party partnership, thus countering any threat of a deterioration in German–Russian relations. If the scheme seemed to have trouble, then he would go to Berlin and Moscow himself to finalize the building of the edifice. He would truly be the architect of a new world order. Thus at the end of December he conveyed to Germany his intention of visiting Europe early in the following year, and Berlin duly extended its invitation. His trip would show if his grand strategy had any basis in reality, or if it was only a product of his wishful thinking.22
TOWARDS A JAPANESE–SOVIET ENTENTE
Matsuoka did not leave for Europe till 12 March, 1941. And when he did, a high officer of the army General Staff privately recorded, ‘There was a huge crowd at Tokyo station. But he is leaving for Europe without any definite idea. He will meet with Hitler and with Stalin, but nobody knows what he will come back with.’23
It was a fateful trip, one that was to have been the climax of Japan’s struggle for a new, anti-Anglo-American order. In the event, it was to coincide not only with the final break in German-Russian relations but also with the formation of an entente among America, Britain, China, and the Dutch East Indies – the so-called ABCD bloc – the very developments that the Japanese had tried desperately to prevent.
The fact that Matsuoka’s trip, initially scheduled for early 1941, was postponed till mid-March, indicated indecision on the part of Tokyo’s leaders. As will be seen, even as late as March they had not reached consensus as to what Matsuoka should be authorized to tell his counterparts in Berlin and Moscow. Equally pressing were the issues of Indo-China and Thailand, left over from late 1940. The early months of were taken up by deliberations for finalizing Japanese intervention in the Thai–Indo-China border dispute, and by the signing of a Japanese–Thai treaty. The border dispute had resulted in clashes between Thai and Indo-Chinese forces, both on land and at sea, and the Japanese feared British intervention to support the French. To forestall it, Tokyo’s supreme command and government decided on 19 January to offer Japan’s good offices to the two countries, and to back this up by a demonstration of force in and around northern Indo-China. The idea was to establish Japan’s ‘commanding position’ over the region as part of the Great East Asian Co-prosperity Sphere, as it was noted in a 31 January decision.24 This may have been the first time that the phrase, ‘Great East Asian Co-prosperity Sphere’, was introduced into an official governmental document. It indicated that the strategy of establishing Japanese domination over the Indo-China–Thai region was becoming solidified. It should be noted that at that time little was said of the Dutch East Indies; Japan would proceed piecemeal, and the only region where force might be used was limited to Indo-China and Thailand. In order to carry out the project, it would be necessary to ‘prevent Anglo-American machinations’, the 31 January document noted, but ‘we should avoid provoking them by acting impetuously in areas under their control’. It was expected that the Thai–Indo-China strategy would be completed by March or April.
Ironically, Japan’s mediation efforts proved successful, depriving it of an excuse for military intervention. Both Thailand and Indo-China accepted the offer of good offices, and sent delegates to Tokyo to negotiate a border settlement. The talks lasted for over a month, between 7 February and 11 March, as the two sides were adamant about their respective positions. Both Thai and French officials counted on outside support – British and American pressures to mitigate Japanese influence – but in the end they accepted a compromise settlement and signed a new peace treaty on 9 May. The border settlement was a compromise, with Thailand gaining more than Indo-China, but by no means all that it had demanded. What is notable is that Japan failed to seize the opportunity to occupy parts of Thailand or southern Indo-China. All that its intercession in the border dispute had accomplished was some sense of gratitude on the part of Thai leaders; but certainly this was a far cry from any initiation of a serious southern advance.
On 11 March Foreign Minister Matsuoka met with the French ambassador, Charles Arsène-Henry, in Tokyo, and both put their signatures to a document ratifying the Thai–Indo-China border agreement. The following day the foreign minister left on his European trip. He had a sense of accomplishment because of the border settlement, but that in itself was of little use as he prepared to deal with the high officials of Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union. As mentioned earlier, Japan had failed to interest them in a quadruple entente including Italy, an idea that was derived from Matsuoka’s view that the world was becoming divided into four blocs: East Asia, Europe, the Americas, and the Soviet bloc. Apparently he believed that such a division of the world would create a balance, although he was not entirely certain that a durable peace could be maintained between the Soviet bloc and a Europe under German–Italian domination, or between the Soviet Union and an East Asia under Japanese domination. In any event, it appears that for Matsuoka such a perception was a way of persuading himself and his colleagues that the United States would acquiesce in the proposed division, and that for this very reason it was imperative for Japan, Germany, and the Soviet Union to establish a solid working relationship.
Incoming reports and available intelligence already indicated, however, that German–Russian relations might not remain stable, and that there might soon be a rupture. Matsuoka obtained intimations of such a possibility not only from German officials in Tokyo but also from Japanese diplomats in Europe. But he chose to believe that there were some shared interests binding Japan, Germany, and the Soviet Union together. As he explained to Stalin on his way to Berlin, these countries were all struggling to reduce Anglo-American influence in the world. That was the meaning of the new order, and since Britain and America stood in the way of its construction, Japan and the others must resolutely reject their intervention.25
Some of this was sheer rhetoric to impress Stalin. Matsuoka had been specifically enjoined by his government not to promise Japan’s support of Germany in the event the latter went to war against the Anglo-American powers, so that all his talk about a struggle against these powers did not amount to a proposal for a military alliance. Nevertheless, he clearly wanted an understanding with the Soviet Union within the framework of the Axis pact so as to impress Britain and the United States. When he reached Berlin, he held conferences with Hitler and von Ribbentrop in order to obtain their blessings for his grand design, but they intimated that German–Russian relations were deteriorating rapidly and that they might clash soon. Although the German leaders did not specifically confide that they were just then making plans for a Russian invasion, Matsuoka could have guessed at it. The German high command’s strategy called for a lightning attack on the Soviet frontier and a push to the major bases and cities before winter; in the meantime, it would count on Japan to attack Singapore and the British empire in Asia. Both steps would, it was believed, immobilize the United States and prevent the latter’s intervention.
Matsuoka was unable to commit Japan to any plan of attack on Singapore. Nor was he successful in convincing the Germans of the wisdom of his quadri-partite scheme. In other words, neither the Germans nor Matsuoka achieved anything solid as a result of his visit. Ironically, the deteriorating condition of German–Russian relations impelled Soviet leadership to be receptive to the idea of an understanding with Japan. When Matsuoka returned to Moscow in April, he was greeted by Stalin and Molotov with an expression of serious interest in a neutrality treaty between the two countries. The Russians were clearly worried over a possible German–Japanese combined attack and hastened to draw up a five-year treaty of neutrality with Japan, binding the latter to neutrality in the event of Soviet involvement in a German war. The treaty was signed on 13 April. An accompanying declaration stated that Japan would respect the territorial integrity of the Mongolian People’s Republic, and the Soviet Union would do likewise in ‘the empire of Manchuria’. In other words, the latter was now recognizing the Japanese conquest of Manchuria, a severe blow to China, particularly to the Communists and others who had looked to the Soviet Union for leadership in a global coalition of anti-Fascist peoples. From Stalin’s perspective, however, the neutrality treaty was a price he had to pay in order to ensure Japanese good behaviour. Moreover, just then the Soviet government was initiating an approach to Britain and America. Still extremely tentative, such a step was in response to the mounting crisis in the Balkans, where German forces were invading Yugoslavia.
Given such developments, Matsuoka’s grand design fell flat. The neutrality treaty he obtained in Moscow was not to be a corner-stone of a new world order but was a fatal step that would enable the Soviet Union to concentrate on a coming war with Germany, while at the same time preparing for a reconciliation with the Anglo-American nations. In other words, far from ensuring a solid global coalition for the protection and expansion of the Japanese empire, the Japanese diplomatic initiative would end up further isolating the nation.
This became clear in the spring of 1941 when London and Washington further solidified their co-operative framework. The Anglo-American staff conversations in Washington met on fourteen different occasions till they produced a final report – ABC-1 – on 29 March. The report was a compromise between the British insistence on a joint defence of Singapore and other bases in Asia and the American stress on a defensive strategy in the Pacific in order to concentrate on the European situation for the immediate future. It adopted the policy of a strategic defensive in the Asian-Pacific region, concentrating on preventing Japan’s southward aggression through economic means and through the stationing of the United States fleet in the Pacific. On the basis of ABC-1, American, British, and Dutch officers conferred in Singapore in late April, confirming the three powers’ military cooperation in the event of war with the Axis nations. Moreover, they would incorporate China into their strategy; they would place military aircraft in China, give financial aid and equipment to the latter’s regular forces, and assist its guerrillas. Though not yet approved by the highest governmental officials, such plans further confirmed the emerging coalition of the ABCD powers. The same month that saw the signing of the Japanese–Soviet neutrality treaty thus witnessed further consolidation of the ABCD entente, designed to isolate Japan just when the latter was intent upon creating a global coalition against the Anglo-American powers.26
Confrontation between the two sides was thus already quite asymmetrical. The United States was fast augmenting its military power and establishing de facto alliances in Europe and Asia, whereas Japan was unable to make good its scheme for an anti-Anglo-American global coalition. Given the situation, there was good reason for confidence in Washington that Japan would sooner or later succumb to pressure and realize the folly of its Asian ambitions. On the Japanese side, the growing spectacle of a coalition against the nation necessitated steps to prevent its complete isolation. Either the Axis pact should be fortified to match the strength of the ABCD coalition or, if that did not happen, Japan should try to divide the four nations. Some such thinking led to the initiation of diplomatic talks in Washington in the spring of 1941. On the American side, there was confidence that, given Japan’s growing isolation, its leaders would recognize the crisis and decide to mend their ways. When, in April, two Maryknoll priests appeared in Washington purporting to speak for Japanese moderates who were interested in peace with America, it fitted into such an expectation. President Roosevelt, Secretary of State Hull, and others could reason that at least the Japanese leadership was split and that the moderates might be reasserting themselves. If so, the United States should do what it could to help their cause and bring Japan back to sanity. The fact that Admiral Nomura Kichisaburō who, as foreign minister in 1939, had tried to improve Japanese–American relations, was sent as ambassador to the United States in early 1941, added to the sense of optimism. Hull agreed to initiate talks with Nomura and started by giving the Japanese ambassador a list of four principles as the foundation of a better relationship across the Pacific. These were territorial integrity, non-interference in internal affairs, equal commercial opportunity, and peaceful alteration of the status quo. This was a statement that the United States would expect all countries to accept, including its potential allies and adversaries. The four principles had traditionally defined American foreign policy and underlain its internationalist vision. Hull’s reiteration of them indicated that the United States government believed it was possible to reconstruct world order once again on the basis of liberal internationalism. Japan would be given a choice of either joining such an order, or alienating itself from all the others.
That was not what the Japanese expected to find in Washington. Their main concern was with having the United States recognize the fait accompli in Asia, thus acquiescing in Japan’s control over China and possibly South-East Asia. By doing so, America would in effect be weakening, if not nullifying, the ABCD entente. As Matsuoka told Nomura, the United States must stop trying to act as the world’s policeman and refrain from intervening in other countries’ ‘spheres of living’. As can be seen in such a statement, there was growing desperation among Japanese officials that the United States was being successful in establishing a global alliance of forces that would challenge the efforts by the Axis powers to establish new regional orders. One way of frustrating the American scheme, Matsuoka reasoned, would be to seek an understanding on the basis of the given faits accomplis in Asia and the Pacific. On that basis, war could be avoided and the two powers bring ‘peace and prosperity in the Pacific’.27
Japan was clearly put on the defensive, and American officials knew it. Talks in Washington dragged on inconclusively, their only rationale from the American standpoint being the time they enabled the United States to gain for preparedness. Military strategists advised Roosevelt that they would need more time, perhaps till mid-1942, before the United States would be ready to risk war with the Axis. In the meantime, it would continue to assist Britain and China to enable them to continue to resist Germany and Japan, respectively. In such a context, diplomatic conversations with Japan were purely a tactical manoeuvre. There was only a slight chance that they would yield significant results, involving Japanese acceptance of Hull’s principles.
It will be neither necessary nor useful to chronicle in detail the course of the Washington conversations. Suffice it to stress that the talks further strengthened the ABCD coalition and weakened the Axis alliance. Hull specifically aimed at helping China by insisting that all Japanese troops be withdrawn from China proper, if not from Manchuria. He was at least willing to let the Japanese stay in Manchuria, more or less re-creating the situation prior to 1937, but they would have to get out of the rest of the country. Obviously, such insistence was designed to strengthen the American–Chinese coalition. Any concession the United States made on this point would be taken by the Chinese as a betrayal, counter to the emerging alliance between the two nations. It is no accident that President Roosevelt chose this time to send a special emissary, Owen Lattimore, to Chungking. The Johns Hopkins scholar had been preceded by others such as Lauchlin Currie, the president’s special adviser, but the Lattimore mission was significant since it was specifically designed to establish a direct channel of communication between the two heads of government. Lattimore left for China in June, and as soon as he reached Chungking he began energetically impressing upon Chinese leaders Roosevelt’s determination to stand by their country till Japan was finally repulsed.
The Chinese at that time may have needed such strong assurances in view of the signing of the Japanese–Soviet pact. The neutrality treaty shocked Chinese of ail persuasions, who inevitably saw it as a betrayal of the anti-Fascist coalition they had helped establish. The Nationalists feared the stoppage of Soviet shipments of arms across the north-west frontier and were chagrined at Moscow’s pledge of non-interference in Manchukuo, implying recognition of the puppet regime. Such a step would, it was feared, enable the Japanese to shift some of their forces out of Manchuria to other parts of China. The Chinese Communists, on their part, were in a quandary. They could not openly criticize the Soviet Union for the neutrality pact with Japan, and they even went so far as to declare that the treaty would ‘benefit the peace-loving persons and oppressed peoples of the world’. But clearly, the Communists could not swallow the Soviet comrades’ apparent sell-out of Manchuria, and the neutrality treaty would long be remembered as an instance of Soviet opportunism.28
In such a situation, for both Nationalists and Communists it was more than ever imperative to count on the support of the United States. The latter would have to demonstrate that the Japanese–Soviet pact would not weaken America’s resolve to strengthen the anti-Japanese coalition. The Washington conversations could, of course, give rise to suspicion that America and Japan were about to enter into a deal at China’s expense. It was imperative to dispel such fears, and the best way of doing so was to reassert again and again America’s commitment to China’s integrity, precisely what Hull and Lattimore were doing.
Britain, too, was not idle. Soon after, the signing of the Japanese–Soviet pact, the British embassy in Chungking reported to London that there was an increasing tendency in China ‘to regard the United States as China’s only friend’, a tendency that appeared to be strengthened by Britain’s refusal to respond to Chungking’s request at this time that if Japan should attack Yunan Province from Indo-China, Britain would help China by using aircraft manned by volunteer pilots. In order to assure the Chinese that there was no change in Britain’s determination to support them, Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden instructed Ambassador Clark Kerr in Chungking to tell Chiang Kai-shek, ‘We have made no compromise with Japan and we shall make none. Our wholehearted sympathy remains with China in her fight for freedom and independence.’ The Chinese leader thanked him for such assurances, conveying a message to Prime Minister Churchill that ‘I am gladly ready to follow in your footsteps, and to go with you towards our common goal of victory and peace. To this end we should co-operate still more closely to render to each other all help in our power.’ Even if abstract, such statements reaffirmed the ABCD entente. Certainly, there was nothing comparable to such expressions of solidarity between the Japanese and the Germans, or between the former and the Russians.29
The Axis pact, in fact, was being weakened even as the ABCD coalition was being solidified. The Washington conversations aroused suspicions in Berlin that the Japanese were seeking an understanding with the United States at Germany’s expense. Tokyo’s continued refusal to commit itself to attacking Singapore, coupled with the Washington talks, exasperated the Germans. As Ambassador Ōshima reported from Berlin, German leaders were gravely concerned over these moves which could undermine the Axis alliance. Should Japan persist in seeking accommodation with the United States, Ōshima warned, Germany might be compelled to do likewise, nullifying the framework of Japanese foreign policy that had been painstakingly built up. While that was an extreme view, the conversations in Washington did indeed contribute to undermining the Japanese–German alliance. Not that Hull was entirely successful in weaning Japan away from the alliance. With Matsuoka exercising remote control over Nomura, the latter could not, even if he wanted to, openly proclaim Japan’s disassociation from Germany. But Nomura tried to convey the message that Japan would not be obligated to go to war on the side of Germany against the United States unless the latter attacked first. Such assurances were not sufficient from the American point of view, but at least they diluted the symbolic significance of the Axis pact. Since the United States was not likely to attack Germany first, for all intents and purposes Japan would not be bound to enter into an American–German war. In other words, there would be little significance to the Japanese–German alliance, in sharp contrast to the ABCD coalition that continued to be solidified.30
The Japanese government was put on the defensive. Clearly, the nation was being isolated, with the favourite scheme for a Japanese–German–Soviet entente more impressive on paper than in actuality. The Washington conversations were carried out at that psychological moment and gave some officials in Tokyo momentary confidence that Japan could now come to an understanding with America. But they were mistaken in thinking that such an understanding would mean American recognition of Japan’s new Asian order. That they should have indulged in such wishful thinking revealed their sense of desperation. They somehow thought Japan could undermine the ABCD entente and have the United States recognize the Asian-Pacific new order – the very thing that the ABCD partners were trying to frustrate. The only solid agreement between Japan and the United States would have had to be built on the annihilation of both the Axis pact and the ABCD coalition, implying a return to the Washington Conference structure of close Anglo–American–Japanese co-operation. Few Japanese leaders were willing to go that far, least of all Foreign Minister Matsuoka. He was chagrined that the talks in Washington had been carried on while he was in Europe and charged insubordination on the part of other officials. This displeasure would ultimately lead to his resignation. There is no evidence, however, that he would have been more successful in negotiating with the United States. He was so self-confident that he believed he could himself go to Washington and come to a deal with President Roosevelt, just as he had done with Hitler and Stalin. But he would have brought to Washington the same ideas that Nomura was already conveying to Hull; he could never have accepted Hull’s basic principles and could instead have insisted on America’s recognition of the fait accompli in Asia. Moreover, Matsuoka would never have consented to nullifying the German alliance. In short, even if he had had a direct hand in the Washington negotiations, the outcome would have been the same: disappointment and desperation that Japan was not getting anywhere.
In the spring of 1941, tnen, circumstances were such that Japan’s top military and civilian leaders were coming to the realization that if the nation were to persist in its Asian policy it would have to do so more or less alone, not counting on the help of other powers. How to put it into practice was a question to preoccupy them throughout the rest of the year.
REFERENCES AND NOTES
1. Matsuoka Yōsuke (Tokyo 1974), pp. 768–9.
2. Ibid., pp. 772–4. See also Theo Sommer, Deutschland und Japan zwischen den Mächten, 1935–1940 (Tübingen 1962), Ch. 4.
3. Matsuoka, pp. 779, 787–8.
4. Jonathan G. Utley, Going to War with Japan, 1937–1941 (Knoxville 1985), p. 109.
5. Defence Agency, War History Division (ed.), Daihonei rikugunbu (The army supreme command; Tokyo 1968), 2: 91. See also Murakami Sachiko, Futsuin shinchū (Japan’s thrust into French Indo-China; n.p. 1984); Ch. 6.
6. Irvine Anderson, The Standard-Vacuum Oil Company and United States East Asian Policy, 1933–41 (Princeton 1975), p. 154.
7. Foreign Relations of the United States: 1940 (Washington 1955), 4: 424.
8. Chung-hua Min-kuo chung-yao chih-liao ch’u-pien: tui-Ju kang-chan shih-chi (Important historical documents of the Chinese republic: the period of the anti-Japanese war; Taipei n.d.), 6.3: 418.
9. Ibid., 6.3: 431.
10. James R. Leutze, Bargaining for Supremacy: Anglo-American Naval Collaboration, 1937–1941 (Chapel Hill 1977), p. 165.
11. Robert Dallek, Franklin D. Roosevelt and American Foreign Policy, 1932–1945 (New York 1979), pp. 252–7.
12. John Hunter Boyle, China and Japan at War, 1937–1945: The Politics of Collaboration (Stanford 1972) p. 304.
13. Leutze, Bargaining, p. 176; David Reynolds, The Creation of the Anglo-American Alliance, 1937–41 (Chapel Hill 1981), pp. 182–5.
14. Daihonei rikugunbu, 2: 128–9.
15. Ibid., 2: 132.
16. Boyle, China and Japan, p. 303; Matsuoka, pp. 834–42.
17. Chung-hua Min-kuo, pp. 193–215.
18. Daihonei rikugunbu, 2: 138.
19. Ibid., 2:140–6; Tanemura Sakō, Daihonei kimitsu nisshi (A secret diary of the supreme headquarters; Tokyo 1952), pp. 38–9.
20. Daihonei rikugunbu; 2: 175–6.
21. Ibid., 2: 204.
22. Matsuoka, p. 846; Japan Association of International Affairs (ed.), Taiheiyō sensō e no michi (The road to the Pacific war; Tokyo 1962–1963), 5: 265–7.
23. Tanemura, Daihonei kimitsu nisshi, pp. 49–50.
24. Daihonei rikugunbu, 2: 184.
25. Matsuoka, pp. 849–57.
26. Leutze, Bargaining, Ch. 15.
27. Matsuoka, p. 916.
28. Tang Tsou, America’s Failure in China, 1941–50 (Chicago 1963), pp. 212–13.
29. FO 3017/60/10, FO 3796/60/10, J 4276/60/10, Foreign Office archives, Public Record Office.
30. Akira Iriye, Power and Culture: The Japanese–American War, 1941–45 (Cambridge, Mass. 1981), p. 14.