Through a candid dialogue between Japanese and Korean intellectuals, this article examines why Japan’s endless concessions toward Korea have failed. By revisiting historical facts from the colonial period and exposing the limits of apology diplomacy, it argues that firm distance—not indulgence—is the only path toward a healthier bilateral relationship.

This dialogue argues that Japan’s decades of indulgence toward Korea have only encouraged unreasonable demands and hostility.
By revisiting historical facts from the period of Japanese rule—education, healthcare, population growth, and modernization—the speakers expose how irony and selective memory dominate contemporary Korean narratives.
The essay contends that firm distance, rather than endless apologies, is the only way to restore balance to Japan–Korea relations and to confront propaganda sustained by nationalism and victimhood politics.

2017-07-03
“I’m sorry for building schools, sorry for carrying out land reform—we apologize from beginning to end,” he says, laughing.
What follows is a continuation from the previous chapter.
“Keeping Korea at arm’s length—for Korea’s own sake.”
Hyakuta.
No matter how unreasonable Korea’s demands were, Japanese people have long responded by saying, “All right, we’ll accept that condition too, we’ll make another concession as well.”
But over the past decade or so, I feel that many Japanese have begun to think, “That’s enough already!” when it comes to Korea.
Oh.
When President Lee Myung-bak landed on Takeshima, when he hurled an outrageous remark implying that the Emperor should kneel and apologize if he wished to visit Korea, and when President Park Geun-hye went around the world spreading anti-Japanese rhetoric, many Japanese became angry and thoroughly fed up.
Hyakuta.
Even if we don’t go so far as severing diplomatic relations, wouldn’t it be better at this point to stop all aid and clearly draw an economic line between Japan and Korea?
Only then might the Korean side finally reflect and think, “Perhaps we’ve been demanding too much.”
Am I being naïve?
Oh.
Politically, Japan would be better off putting distance between itself and Korea.
During the Park Geun-hye administration, Korea itself created that distance, which widened the gap between the two countries.
When Korea later found itself in trouble, it tried to draw closer to Japan again.
Korea has grown completely dependent on Japan, so Japan should push it away and create distance.
Hyakuta.
Korea is like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.
A child cries, “Mom, buy this for me!”
When the mother says, “No, be patient,” the child screams and throws a fit.
Then the mother gives in, saying, “All right, all right, just for today,” and buys it anyway.
Japan has been doing exactly this for a long time.
“Oh, I want to publish this book in Korea!”
Oh.
Japan should take a firmer stance toward Korea.
Just as things were beginning to move in that direction, your latest book’s title turned out to be Now Is the Time to Apologize to Korea, which really surprised me.
Hyakuta.
The band even says, “Naoki Hyakuta’s tearful grand apology!”
It’s the complete opposite of firmness, isn’t it?
But if I may say so myself, it’s a work I’m confident in, covering Korean history from the past to present-day issues.
“I’m sorry for building schools, I’m sorry for land reform”—I apologize nonstop from start to finish, laughing.
Oh.
During the period of Japanese rule, Korea’s population doubled, medical technology improved, and life expectancy increased.
That was because Japan tried to modernize Korea to the same level as the mainland.
It achieved a certain degree of success, but in Korea this is all portrayed as having been done solely for exploitation, labeled as Japan’s “internal colonization.”
In the book, you write about this with irony, don’t you?
Hyakuta.
I hope the irony comes across.
Before annexation, the literacy rate was about ten percent, so Japan introduced Hangul and provided education.
Forced education, you could say, laughing.
Oh.
Very few Koreans today know that Hangul was widely disseminated through education during the period of Japanese rule.
Instead of looking squarely at such historical facts, Hangul is now tied to nationalism and patriotism with claims that it is “the world’s greatest script.”
So if Koreans read this book, I think there will be many moments when they realize, “What? Is that really true?”
Hyakuta.
I wrote this book not only for Japanese readers, but very much hoping that people in Korea would read it as well.
Oh.
Books critical of Korea don’t sell in Korea.
Most Koreans won’t even pick them up.
But with this title, some people might pick it up and even agree with it, laughing.
Hyakuta.
I would love to have you translate it, Ms. Oh.
Oh.
If my name—someone banned from entering Korea—appeared as the translator, people would be shocked and ask, “What on earth is going on in Japan?” laughing.
No, with my name on it, people would assume it’s a pro-Japan, anti-Korea book.
There was a time when my first book was almost published in Korea.
Apparently, without knowing the content, they simply decided to publish it because it was selling well in Japan.
But no bookstore would accept it, and it ended up piled high in the publisher’s warehouse.
They probably disposed of it in the end.
The president of a Korean publishing house once told me, “I think your book would sell in Korea, but if we published it, our company would be destroyed.”
That said, with your book, Mr. Hyakuta, there might actually be a chance.