Last week, in recognition of the goodwill shared between Japan and the United States, the Consul General of Japan hosted a reception attended by local U.S. military personnel who served in Japan. All branches were represented, and invitations were also extended to NJAHS Executive Director Rosalyn Tonai, Past President the Honorable Bryan Yagi, and President Derrek Tomine. I was invited to share a few stories of how Military Intelligence Service linguists of World War II helped lay the groundwork for an effective working relationship between the U.S. military and the people of Japan.
The story began one hundred years ago, at a time when first-generation Japanese immigrants, the Issei, were raising young families on the U.S. mainland. Many of the Issei parents were among the initial wave of immigrants who traveled to Hawaii. They labored first as plantation workers before making their way to the continental U.S.. Tough, resilient, and determined to start a new life in a new world, the Issei, along with most people of color, were denied the right to naturalized U.S. citizenship.
In the face of federally legislated racism, many Issei nonetheless instilled in their American-born children, the Nisei, a deep-rooted sense of duty and loyalty to the United States. Through their actions as much as their words, the Issei imparted lessons of loyalty and commitment to country, community, and family before self. In years to come, as the Nikkei (Japanese American) community struggled with the rest of the country to survive the Great Depression, the winds of war began to blow eastward across the Pacific Ocean.
In 1941, U.S. military authorities, concerned over a lack of expertise in the Japanese language, authorized the Army and the Navy to independently operate two Japanese language schools in the greater San Francisco Bay Area. The Army selected fifty-eight soldiers for its first class after interviewing more than 1,000 mainland Nikkei soldiers. Classes commenced on the San Francisco Presidio on November 1, 1941, and forty Nikkei and two Caucasian soldiers graduated six months later. Just over half of the graduates were deployed to combat areas in Alaska and throughout the Pacific Theater. The remaining graduates were retained as instructors or assigned to General MacArthur’s staff in Australia.
Field commanders initially distrusted the Nikkei, giving them trivial assignments and keeping them away from the front lines. A Caucasian language school graduate advocated on behalf of his team, and the commander of U.S. forces on Guadalcanal gave them the benefit of a doubt. The Nikkei team performed with distinction and delivered high-value document translations, conducted skilled interrogations, and de-escalated volatile situations. The linguists were on the front lines and their work sometimes brought them face-to-face with enemy combatants. They distinguished themselves and earned the respect of their fellow soldiers and officers. The demand for their skills skyrocketed, and more than 6,000 linguists were eventually trained. General MacArthur’s Chief of Intelligence was reported stating that Nikkei linguists shortened the war in the Pacific by two years.
Nikkei linguists continued to deploy their unique skills at war’s end and throughout the post-war occupation of Japan. They repeatedly demonstrated how an understanding of language, culture, and world view could reveal options in otherwise seemingly dead-end situations. One powerful example was the way linguists negotiated the surrenders of Japanese soldiers who, unaware that the war was over, took refuge in the jungles of the Philippines and the caves of Okinawa. Exhausted, thirsty, hungry, confused, and armed, the soldiers were told something unthinkable – Japan lost the war. Yet the linguists convinced the soldiers that it was no longer a time to fight. It was a time to live, to return home, and to begin building for the future.
As quickly as Nikkei linguists were spun up as weapons of war against Japan, they were even more quickly repurposed as instruments of peace. 3,000 linguists helped to implement the monumental changes mandated during the post-war military occupation of Japan. The work went beyond the dismantling of wartime military machinery and supporting war crimes trials. It broached deep structural changes to political, social, economic, and educational systems. As the Japanese people watched the introductions of new institutions, the linguists were a valuable conduit between the U.S. military and the Japanese citizenry.
One example of a marked cultural change was the decision to limit the number of kanji characters permitted in newspapers and government documents. Compiled from an estimated 50,000 available kanji characters, the tōyō kanji list contained fewer than 2,000 characters, was instituted as a secondary school standard, and helped the U.S. military quickly broaden its reading audience. Some elements of Japanese society viewed this ratcheting down to be a major attack against a primary cultural pillar, language. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and the linguists helped to ease the transition.
Time and time again, Nikkei linguists demonstrated how a substantive understanding of language and culture can influence wartime and peacetime decisions and relationships. On this Veteran’s Day in 2024, I honor not only those individuals who are here to accept my gratitude for their service, but also those individuals who remain alive in my memory. I ask that those who have served share their stories not only with the institutions they represent, but also with family and friends who will cherish their legacy. I am grateful that Nikkei linguists, though often reluctant storytellers, chose to leave accounts of their lives for future generations to value and retell.
