This article summarizes Nobuko Araki’s Sankei Shimbun “Seiron” column, in which the author reflects on her family’s multigenerational history—from the Russo-Japanese War to wartime Okinawa, from Korean repatriation to U.S. internment, and even back to a Mito samurai executed at the dawn of Meiji. Araki argues that the lived experiences of ordinary Japanese families cannot be reduced to simplistic labels such as “aggression” or “atrocities,” and she challenges Japan’s long-standing acceptance of a postwar, victor-imposed historical framework. By examining the 80 years before 1945 and the 80 years after, she highlights how deeply individuals are shaped by their era, and how the very existence of each person is a miracle created by innumerable historical contingencies. Her essay urges readers to rediscover Japan’s history through the lens of real families rather than externally imposed narratives.

Below is an article from today’s Sankei Shimbun “Seiron” column titled “Japan as Seen Through ‘Family History’,” written by Nobuko Araki, a researcher of Korean and Chosŏn studies and a translator.
It is essential reading not only for the Japanese people but for audiences around the world.
Emphasis within the text, except for headings, is mine.

For some time, I had wanted to look into my family’s history.
This was probably because I often heard stories from my mother, who was born in the early Shōwa era.

Influence of the Times Beyond Imagination
My maternal grandfather was from Fukushima Prefecture, and it seems the family had lived there at least since the Edo period.
During the Russo-Japanese War, the names of those who sent comfort bags or donations were published in the official gazette by prefecture and municipality, and my great-great-grandfather and several relatives appeared there together with people from the same town.
My grandfather studied in Tokyo, and while working he met my grandmother.
He later moved to Fukui Prefecture for work and spent the rest of his life there.
During the war, in addition to his main occupation, he served as head of the Fukui branch of the Imperial Military Dog Association.
In those days, once a person reached a certain age, it seems they all had some role connected to the war.
Fukui also experienced air raids and food shortages.

My grandfather’s second elder brother and his family emigrated to the United States during the Taishō era and, after the war, became U.S. citizens.
They must have been in a Japanese American internment camp during the Second World War.
The eldest brother’s son became an army surgeon, served on the continent, and later moved to Okinawa, where he was killed in action on Mabuni Hill as the director of a field hospital in the 62nd Division.
My mother’s eldest sister saw the end of the war in Korea and returned to Japan with her husband and their young son.

It felt as though the entire history of Japan since the Meiji era was condensed into these family stories.
Individual lives are influenced by the times far more than we imagine.
I believe families across Japan have similar histories.
When one glimpses the lives of ordinary people, one realizes that the sweeping words often used by later generations—such as “Japanese aggression” or “atrocities”—are wholly inadequate.
Everyone simply worked diligently, supported their families, bore and raised children, and lived their daily lives.
The notion of “living for the country,” now much weakened, must have been strong then.
It was not easy to go against the times or do something different from others.
Even those in leadership positions were, after all, people of their era.

Breaking Free from the Victors’ View of History
This past summer, much discussion arose regarding the statement marking the 80th anniversary of the war’s end.
Although a “view” was expressed, fortunately no official “statement” was issued.
Looking back to around 1995, fifty years after the war, when such statements began to be made, demands for postwar compensation from some Asian countries were unusually intense.
The comfort women issue became a diplomatic problem between Japan and South Korea in 1991 and 1992.
The “Murayama Statement,” issued under such circumstances, apologized for “aggression.”

However, merely saying “Japan will no longer apologize” is insufficient to overturn such self-deprecating statements.
This is because the key point is not that “Japan has already apologized.”
The problem is that Japan was placed in a position where it was expected to apologize according to the victors’ standards.
To say, as in the 2015 statement, that Japan “became a challenger to the international order” ultimately conforms to the victors’ perspective.
As long as Japan accepts that view, no matter how the wording is changed, it amounts to pledging that Japan will not deviate from the victors’ historical narrative.

Earlier I stated that individual lives are shaped by their times.
Naturally, my own relatives had ties to China and Korea during the war, but I have been struck by how strong the influence of the United States has been.

Here I look back to the end of the Edo period.
My maternal grandmother’s grandfather (my great-great-grandfather) was a samurai of the Mito domain, but he was executed in Mito in the first year of Meiji, leaving behind young children, because of conflicts within the domain.
Many people lost their lives for political reasons during that momentous turning point in history.
His death is not directly connected to the United States.
Yet the turmoil across Japan over whether to open the country or expel foreigners eventually led to conflicts in the shogunate and the various domains and ultimately to the fall of the Edo shogunate.

The great-great-grandfather from Fukushima achieved modest success in business during the mid-Meiji period as capitalism developed.
When thinking of the great-great-grandfather from Mito, it becomes clear that history contains both light and shadow.
My granduncle’s family who emigrated to America, their wartime internment, and my mother’s cousin who died in Okinawa—all of these were directly connected to the United States.

The Hardships and Efforts of Our Forebears
Roughly eighty years passed between the end of the Edo period and Japan’s defeat in 1945.
Nearly the same number of years has now passed since the war.
The postwar period has already become longer.
In recent years, signs of change in the United States have made many people question whether Japan can maintain its relationship with the U.S. as before.
Meanwhile, the movements of China, Russia, and North Korea are unsettling.

Against this backdrop, I feel ever more strongly how much our forefathers who lived through the Bakumatsu, Meiji, Taishō, and early Shōwa eras struggled and strove.
When one is living in the midst of such upheaval, no one knows which direction events will take.
It is only afterward that we can say, “Such were the times.”

Looking again at the family tree, I realize that I would not exist if even one direct ancestor were missing.
Had the Edo period continued unchanged, my grandparents would never have met.
Each person’s very existence seems like a miracle.
It is the cumulative result of countless individual events.
Including in-law relatives, an immeasurable number of people are connected to me.
We live within circumstances far beyond what human will alone can shape.
That is what family history—and national history—teaches us.