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第39章

ericlustbader.the ninja-第39章

小说: ericlustbader.the ninja 字数: 每页4000字

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iticians were returned to office; the society was assured that this regime would follow a vigorously imperialistic foreign policy。 Accordingly; the Genyosha hired toughs; importing them into each district of the country。 Beatings were not unmon。 It was an election of fear。'
 Two American Army officers passed by with their families in tow; they wore their uniforms like a badge of honour; treading the ground like the conquering heroes they were。 Perhaps they saw where they were; what went on around them; but surely they understood none of it。
 'With the implementation of this policy and the success of Japanese expansion into Manchuria and Shanghai came the vested interests of the Japanese businessman abroad。 A growing economy was now crucial to Japan and its rate of growth was prodigious。 Out of this cauldron rose the four enormous industrial bines prising the zaibatsu。'
 'Then Kansatsu was right when he said that economics must take as much responsibility as militarism for Japan's road to the war;' Nicholas observed thoughtfully。
 The Colonel nodded。 'In many ways; Japan was a primitive nation by world standards; the Tokugawas had seen to that。 But; on the other hand; they understood perhaps better than any others the purity of their country。 But I'm very much afraid it's one of the things that MacArthur missed。 Oh; he knew enough about the culture to leave the Emperor just where he had always been despite the hue and cry that he be tried and executed as a war criminal。 You see; quite apart from the fact that; from the first; the Emperor had done all in his power to aid the Americans after the war; MacArthur was well aware that any attempt to dethrone him would throw Japan into utter chaos; it was a tradition that even the mighty shoguns dared not tamper with。
 'Yet also from the first the Americans propounded the myth that the 'guiding force behind the Japanese war effort came entirely from the military。' He licked at his sticky fingers; took out his pipe。 'Nothing could have been further from the truth。 It was the members of the zaibatsu who backed the country into a corner from which war became the only viable economic alternative。'
 'But what about the Japanese people as a whole?' Nicholas asked。 'Surely they did not want war。'
 The Colonel placed his pipe; unlit; between his teeth。 He looked up; watching the gentle bobbing of the laden boughs in the wind。 'Unfortunately there is a long history here of the people being led。 It es from being so long in a feudal society; of giving blind obedience to the Emperor; the shogun; the daimyo。 It's inbred。' He sat upright; half facing his son on the bench; one hand holding the bowl of his pipe。 'It's not surprising; then; to learn that there was little concerted antiwar sentiment just before the war。 In fact; the Social Democrat Party; who had been openly antimilitaristic in their stand when Japan invaded Manchuria; lost much of their constituency in the 1932 general election。 It was the tiny but ineradicable munist Party that became the lone Japanese voice raised against imperialism during that time。 It was little more than a reed in a hurricane; the zaibatsu and the Genyosha had efficiently manipulated key individuals in both the government and the media; war became inevitable。'
 They both looked up at the sound of running feet。 To their left a pair of uniformed policemen rushed down stone steps three at a time; their arms spread wide on either side for balance。 People looked up。 There was a harsh cry。 Children turned; the toy sailboats rocked unattended and unwatched。 Several of the American officers hesitated for an instant before taking off after the police。 Nicholas and the Colonel stood up and began to drift with the crowd around the left side of the lake。
 There was a tour of intervening cherry trees and the foliage was so lush that they could not make out what was happening behind it。
 A crowd had formed by the time they arrived; having cut through the grass so as to bypass the crowded steps。 Taking Nicholas by the arm; the Colonel shouldered his way through the throng。 Already; at the edges; there was some pushing and shoving。 The scuffling was brief; however; as more of the metropolitan police arrived on the scene。
 The front line of people parted and they saw an expanse of grass like a glade in a forest。 There were cherry blossoms scattered upon the grass as if in a hero's wele home。 Nicholas caught a glimpse of a patterned kimono。 At first it appeared grey but then; as he was shoved forward by the thrust of the uneasy crowd; he saw that it was posed of thin waved lines of black and white which; at a distance; blended together。 It was trimmed in white。
 As more policemen pushed themselves through the onlookers; those already in the glade shifted position。 As they did so;
 Nicholas saw a man kneeling on the grass。 His forehead touched the ground littered with blossoms。 His right arm was close to his body; the hand invisible within the kimono's folds across his belly。 In front of him was a small lacquered rosewood and brass box and a long white strip of silk; partly in shadow。
 Behind him; the Colonel gripped Nicholas's shoulders as he said; 'That's Hanshichiro' He was referring to the great Japanese poet。
 Nicholas squirmed to get a better look。 He now saw the kneeling man's face between the forest of shifting legs。 His hair was iron…grey; his face wide and flat; the features thick。 Lines pulled down the corners of his mouth。 His eyes were closed。 Then Nicholas saw that the silk strip before him was not shadowed but stained。 Being porous; it let all the blood through so that it seeped into the earth at Hanshichiro's feet。
 'Seppuka;' the Colonel said; 'is how it ends for the honourable。'
 Nicholas was still thinking of how incredibly ordered it was。 He was used to stories of the war; there; death was messy。 But here; how serene; how precise; how much like the tide of time it was; while all around its calmness stirred the agitated waters。
 'Are you all right; Nicholas?' The Colonel put his hand lightly on his shoulders; looked down at him concernedly。
 Nicholas nodded。 'I think so。' He looked up。 'Yes。 I guess I am。 I feel … a little strange; as if there's been too much to take in suddenly。 I … Why did he do it in the park? He wanted everyone to sec。'
 'To see and take note;' the Colonel said。 They had quit the lake; climbing into the heights of the park where the trees blotted out even the surrounding paths。 Above; Nicholas could still see the wavering dragon; spitting his fire into the air; as if in defiance of the currents that blew him hither and thither。
 'He was a bitter man; firmly embedded in the past。 He could never reconcile himself to Japan's new path。' A dark blue baby carriage filled with pink twins and pushed by a matronly Japanese woman went past them。 Hanshichiro was a brilliant artist; obsessed。 A man of great honour。 This was his way of protesting against Japan's march towards the future; a future which; he felt; would ultimately destroy it。' A young American sailor and his Japanese girl friend approached them from the heights; laughing and clutching each other's hands。 The sailor put his arm around the girl; gave her a kiss on the cheek。 She giggled and turned her head away。 Her hair tossed in the wind; rippling like the dragon's body if he were but articulated。
 'There are many others like Hanshichiro;' Nicholas said。 'Wasn't Satsugai born in Fukuoka?'
 The Colonel looked reflectively at his son。 He stopped and dug in his jacket pocket。 He withdrew his tobacco pouch; went about filling his pipe; his thumb tamping at the bowl。
 Nicholas; watching the dragon float high above him; over the treetops; said; 'I've read the Constitution; Father。 I know that you had a hand in it。 It's not Japanese but it's very democratic。 Much more so than the policies of the government today。 Politically; Japan's gone far to the right; the zaibatsu were never dismantled。 Most of the pre…war personnel is intact。 I don't understand that。〃
 The Colonel drew out a gunmetal…grey Ronson lighter and; turning his back to the wind; thumbed the long flame to life。 He sucked three or four times; deeply; almost with a sigh of contentment; before h

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