This essay argues that postwar South Korea has maintained its regime through a fascist-style system that incites hatred against other nations, particularly Japan.
It contends that, despite Japan’s abolition of Korea’s premodern caste system during the colonial era, postwar anti-Japan education and large-scale emigration have exported this “anti-Japan fascism” abroad, influencing local politics in places like the United States and Germany.
Focusing on the plan to erect a comfort-woman statue in Freiburg and the role of the Süddeutsche Zeitung, the author criticizes attempts to equate Japan with Nazism as a way to relativize Germany’s own historical guilt, warning that such falsification will ultimately be judged by the “Turntable of Civilization” as a form of moral transgression.

A country that has, since the end of the war, continuously practiced a form of fascism by stirring up hatred toward other countries and other ethnic groups in order to maintain its own regime.
As a result of fully participating in the Vietnam War as a nation, South Korea was granted a quota of 300,000 immigrants to the United States.
When the Korean Peninsula was annexed and became a unified state, Japan swept away in one stroke the astonishingly multilayered and severe caste system, which had been one of the worst in the world and a major reason why the Korean Peninsula had been among the poorest regions on earth.
However, it was the century of war.
Thirty-five years later, Japan, which had sided with the Axis powers, had its oil cut off by the United States, the strongest and largest nation in the world—something even Hitler had avoided—and, incited by newspapers led by the Asahi Shimbun, went to war against the United States and was defeated.
It goes without saying that the old bad habits returned to the Korean Peninsula.
The Asahi, which stations an almost unbelievably large number of correspondents in South Korea, never writes about this, but, for example, the reality of South Korean children and the reality of their entrance-exam competition is beyond description.
As readers know, I am someone who, already in junior high school, had read and finished “War and Peace,” “Anna Karenina,” “The Brothers Karamazov,” “The Red and the Black,” “The Lily of the Valley,” “Paul and Virginie,” and “Takiguchi Nyūdō.”
I am certain that there is not a single junior-high-school student like that in present-day South Korea.
Because the truth can never be erased one hundred percent, evil can never be fulfilled completely.
They actually harbor a longing for Japan.
Therefore, even though they know almost nothing of world literature, it is only natural that, once their entrance-exam competition is over, South Koreans read more of Haruki Murakami’s books than anyone else in the world.
Since the Japanese publishing world so masterfully elevated him, that alone must embody a form of yearning for young South Koreans.
But it ends there.
The severity of their actual circumstances does not change in the slightest, and thus the waves of emigration to the United States and to countries around the world will never cease.
If that were the only issue, it would pose no particular problem.
However, they are the children of a fascist system shaped by anti-Japan education.
In the United States, the quota is 300,000.
In a democracy like the United States, their votes give rise to towns and cities where their particular brand of fascism prevails.
Those who read yesterday’s article in the Sankei Shimbun—“A Comfort-Woman Statue to Be Erected in Freiburg, Germany, Within the Year”—must have once again recognized the correctness of my argument.
That city is probably one in which the Süddeutsche Zeitung holds overwhelming influence, just as the Asahi Shimbun did in Japan before August of the year before last.
In other words, the citizens there grew up reading the Süddeutsche Zeitung.
As a people who committed the crimes of Nazism—the crimes of hatred directed against the Jews—perhaps Germans possess something that makes them fundamentally sympathetic to South Koreans, who are committing similar crimes.
For the Tokyo correspondent of the Süddeutsche Zeitung, who is a devotee of the Asahi Shimbun that fabricated Japan into a Nazi-like nation, and for the people of Freiburg, it is probably convenient to recast Japan as a country that committed crimes equivalent to their own Nazism, thereby turning Japan into a kind of indulgence for themselves.
But such a scheme will not be forgiven by God.
The Turntable of Civilization, which is the providence of God, will not permit it.
Citizens of Freiburg, beyond the punishment you already bear for the sin of the Jews you massacred under Nazism, you will never enter heaven if you now go so far as to fabricate sins against Japan as well.
On the contrary, the flames of hell will only burn all the more fiercely as they await you.