Introduction
Contemporary Japan has witnessed the rise of a newly acclaimed national hero. This paragon of virtue, the late Lieutenant General Higuchi Kiichirō (1888–1970) is commemorated in numerous ways. A memorial museum was erected in his honour, his name is ubiquitous across the internet, and his alleged benevolent deeds have been extolled in numerous articles in national newspapers, as well as in the foreign press, magazines, books, and two manga series. In 2022, the commemoration of Higuchi reached its pinnacle with a conference, music concert, and the unveiling of a sizeable bronze statue at his birthplace. This level of commemoration is particularly baffling in a country that typically does not venerate military officers from the Second World War. So, why has Higuchi gained such recognition, and does he deserve it?
Born on the island of Awaji, near Kobe, Higuchi joined the Imperial Japanese Army in 1909 and steadily climbed the ranks. His 36-year military career reached its zenith with his appointment as the commanding officer of the Fifth Area Army, stationed in Sapporo. In August 1945, shortly before Japan’s surrender, Higuchi was in command of Japan’s northern defences. This officer’s posthumous rise to national hero status is attributed to ‘three miracles’, as his admirers have termed them. The first miracle involved ‘saving the nation’ during the defence of Hokkaido against advancing Soviet forces in August 1945. The second miracle occurred two years earlier when Higuchi oversaw the ingenious evacuation of approximately 5,000 Imperial Japanese Army troops from the island of Kiska under the cover of fog.Footnote 1
It is his third ‘miracle’, however, that distinguishes him from any other high-ranking officer of his era and serves as the main source of his current fame.Footnote 2 This ‘miracle’ stems from a brief episode of humanitarian assistance he provided in 1938. At that time, a large group of Jewish refugees reportedly found themselves stranded at the train station in the border town of Otpor, unable to enter Manchuria or return to the Soviet Union. It was through Higuchi’s intervention, in cooperation with high-echelon Japanese authorities, that these desperate and helpless individuals found safe haven, ultimately saving their lives. Known as the ‘Otpor Incident’ (J. Otopōru jiken オトポール事件), this alleged act of compassion and assistance amid adversity stands today as the most celebrated aspect of Higuchi’s legacy. It also represents the most significant and largest-scale humanitarian contribution made by any Japanese individual throughout the nation’s wartime history, if not beyond this era. If we accept this narrative as true, the ‘Otpor Incident’ significantly surpasses the well-known rescue efforts of Sugihara Chiune (1900–1986) in scale. Serving as Japan’s vice-consul in Lithuania in 1940, Sugihara issued transit visas to several thousand Jewish refugees shortly after the Soviet occupation of the country, thereby assisting their departure and eventual survival.Footnote 3
The touching narrative of rescue and benevolence involving Higuchi is deemed worthy of immense posthumous honours. Unfortunately, numerous gaps in the tale compromise its reliability and cast doubt upon Higuchi’s heroism. Accordingly, this article critically challenges the actions attributed to him. It suggests that the entire story may be a fabrication, initially intended to enhance Higuchi’s reputation and subsequently used to bolster the controversial image of wartime Japan and its leaders. Significantly, we argue that the rise during the 1990s of a new nationalistic discourse regarding the war era (Asia-Pacific War, 1941–1945, J. アジア・太平洋戦争, and more broadly the period of 1931–1945 referred to in Japanese as Jūgonen sensō 十五年戦争; lit. ‘Fifteen-Year War’) prompted the need for humanitarian heroes, especially within the military. To examine these premises, the article is divided into two parts: the first part presents the narrative of Higuchi ‘saving’ Jewish refugees from persecution and harsh weather, examines Higuchi’s ties with the Jewish community in pre-war Harbin, and then probes the gaps found within this narrative. The second part focuses on the emergence of the Higuchi myth in post-war Japan, investigating the narrative’s evolution within Japan and the underlying motives behind its recent surge in popularity.
Part I: A wartime act of benevolence?
The pivotal ‘miracle’ involving Higuchi unfolded in Manchukuo (J. Manshūkoku 満洲国; Ch. Manzhouguo 满洲国), the puppet state established by the empire of Japan in 1932 in the vast northeastern region of China, known at the time as Manchuria. Higuchi’s role in the story began in the summer of 1937, when he was appointed as the head of the Special Branch of military intelligence (J. tokumu kikan 特務機関; lit. special duty unit) in Harbin, the principal city in northern Manchukuo. This position, a remarkable example of a military euphemism, essentially made the 49-year-old major general the ruler of the city, similar to how the chief of staff of the Japanese military force stationed in the country, the Guandong Army (Kwantung Army; J. Kantō-gun 関東軍), doubled as Japan’s ambassador to Manchukuo, effectively making him the de facto ruler of this entire state.Footnote 4 Carefully prepared for this role over many years, Higuchi’s primary task was to monitor Soviet manoeuvres closely. He brought to this position extensive military experience and fluency in Russian, and faithfully executed his duties until July 1938, serving a full year before eventually returning to Japan.
Higuchi’s narrative of saving Jewish refugees
Higuchi’s autobiography has been the main but not the exclusive source of this story.Footnote 5 During his one-year assignment in Harbin, Higuchi claimed to have encountered an unforeseen and deeply stirring incident. On 8 March 1938, according to his autobiography, he was informed of the arrival of a large group of German Jewish refugees.Footnote 6 The group was very large, in fact, comprising thousands of individuals, as vividly described in Higuchi’s account. As he recalled several decades later, these refugees were stranded in the freezing Soviet border town of Otpor (J. Otopōru オトポール; present-day Zabaykalsk, Russia) situated opposite the Manchukuo town of Manzhouli (in present-day Inner Mongolia, China), located 935 kilometres northeast of Harbin by train. There were ‘about 20,000 of them’, Higuchi noted, and this has remained the figure for almost all future references to the incident.Footnote 7 Escaping persecution by the Nazi regime, these refugees crossed Siberia by train at the peak of the winter of early 1938, seeking to enter the safe haven of Manchukuo. ‘It was clear that if these refugees were left alone,’ Higuchi recalled, ‘it would become a matter of life and death.’Footnote 8
Upon hearing news of the refugees’ plight, the Harbin Jewish community took action. Dr Abraham Kaufman (1885–1971), a prominent member of this community, allegedly pleaded with Higuchi to allow them to cross the border. According to this narrative, both the Soviet and the Manchukuo authorities were reluctant to permit this, fearing it would encourage more Jewish refugees. Higuchi sought information but maintained that the decision was beyond his authority. He asserted that Manchukuo was an ‘independent state’ with its own foreign office, and, therefore, it was up to that office to issue visas or safe passage, rather than up to him. The story further relates that Wakamiya Saburō, a Japanese official at the Manchukuo Foreign Office, approached Higuchi, imploring him to facilitate this action because he (Wakamiya) was committed to saving lives.Footnote 9 Allegedly, Higuchi, as the ultimate authority in the region, signalled to Wakamiya, and thereby to the Manchukuo government, that it was permissible to allow these desperate, freezing refugees to cross the border.
According to the now popular narrative, the entire affair, involving several governments, unfolded within just two days, though with evident repercussions. Higuchi was aware that his decision could potentially strain German-Japanese relations and might even contravene the spirit of the Anti-Comintern Pact, which had been concluded a mere 15 months earlier. Moved by a sense of urgency, Higuchi chose to proceed with his humanitarian enterprise. He discussed the situation with the chief of the Harbin delegation of the Manchukuo Foreign Affairs Office. After receiving permission on 10 March, Higuchi authorized the entry of the refugees into Manchukuo. He also arranged for them to be provided with trains and food at no cost, ensuring they arrived safely in Harbin the next day.
With the refugees permitted to enter, the German Foreign Ministry, on behalf of Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946), lodged a protest with the Japanese Foreign Ministry, asserting that their acceptance into Manchukuo ‘was a threat to the goodwill between Japan and Germany’.Footnote 10 Consequently, Higuchi was summoned to the headquarters of the Guandong Army in the Manchukuo capital of Xinjing (formerly and currently known as Changchun; J. Shinkyō 新京). The person who interviewed him was none other than Tōjō Hideki (1884–1948), then Chief of Staff of that army and Japan’s prime minister on the eve of the war with the United States.Footnote 11 Tōjō inquired about Higuchi’s actions, which had the potential to damage relations with Germany. According to Higuchi’s own account, he averred that Japan was not a vassal state of Germany—in other versions, it is Manchukuo that is not a vassal state of Japan (or Germany, for that matter)—and that Manchukuo had to make its own decisions. Remarkably, Tōjō agreed with him.Footnote 12
Higuchi’s relations with the Harbin Jewish community
Higuchi’s alleged act of benevolence and his decision to open the empire’s gates to Jewish refugees did not occur in isolation. Both the official purported reluctance to allow the refugees entry and Higuchi’s personal intervention were influenced by earlier encounters with Jews in East Asia and beyond. The most important of them, the first Far Eastern Jewish National Conference (J. Kyokutō Yudaya minzoku kaigi 極東ユダヤ民族会議) (hereafter Far Eastern Conference), occurred less than three months before the ‘Otpor Incident’. Higuchi’s involvement in organizing this gathering on 26 December 1937 is indicative of his relationship with the Jewish community in Harbin and serves as an immediate context for the events associated with his assistance to the refugees. The following section explores the personal and ideological background that may have facilitated his ‘benevolent’ actions.
The Bolshevik Revolution and Japan’s participation in the Siberian Intervention of 1918–1922 significantly raised awareness of Jews and their influence, both globally and in the region.Footnote 13 Beginning in the early 1920s, shortly after Japan became a prominent member of the League of Nations, its Ministry of Foreign Affairs started to recognize and address the ‘Jewish Problem’ (J. Yudayajin mondai ユダヤ人問題).Footnote 14 A decade later, with the occupation of Manchuria in 1931–1932, the Imperial Japanese Army encountered several Jewish communities, the most prominent being that of Harbin. In his autobiography, Higuchi highlighted his early warm relations with this community and the respect he was granted by its members.Footnote 15 Advocates of Higuchi’s heroism highlight these connections to argue that his kindness towards the refugees was a manifestation of his enduring commitment to the Jewish people and that his deeds were acknowledged by the Jewish community in Harbin. As the ultimate evidence of the strength of these ties, they mention that Higuchi’s name was inscribed in the ‘Golden Book’ (H. Sefer ha’zahav הזהב ספר) of the Jewish National Fund (JNF; H. Keren Kayemet LeYisrael לישראל הקיימת קרן) in recognition of this benevolence.Footnote 16 In the following section, we will explore the nature of these relationships and their relevance to our story.
According to Higuchi’s own testimony, his connections with Jews traced back to his encounter with them and their literature during his participation in the Siberian intervention.Footnote 17 He claimed to have lived in the home of a wealthy Jewish family in Vladivostok in 1919, but he never provided any proof of this claim nor even the name of the family. Several years later, while serving as a military attaché in Poland, he purportedly re-established his relations with Jews. Through his experiences in Poland, he contended that he had observed outright discrimination against the Jewish population and became aware of their plight. There are other, similar stories of Higuchi’s interactions with Jews, such as his investigative trip in 1928 to the Caucasus and his meeting there with an elderly Jewish man in Tiflis (present-day Tbilisi, Georgia), who told Higuchi of the persecution of his brethren and his hope that the Japanese emperor would become the saviour of the Jewish people. This encounter was critical, as writer Sagara Shunsuke (1920–1979) suggested in his book on Higuchi’s alleged 1938 efforts to ‘save Jews’: ‘He [Higuchi] saw 3,000 years of suffering on this poor, old man’s face.’Footnote 18 All of these early experiences are said to have shaped his later behaviour. Those who follow this line of argument believe that these formative encounters both cemented Higuchi’s sympathies for the Jewish people in their hour of need and gave Jews hope that Japan might play the role of their redeemer.
At the same time, Higuchi’s record of his affinity for Jews is more complex than it initially appears. In Harbin, where he was stationed in 1937, his interactions with Nazi Germany were not just long-standing but had recurred earlier that year. Kawamura Aizō (1897–1978), who served under his command in Harbin and spent some time with the military police, would later recall Higuchi’s numerous right-wing German acquaintances in the Wehrmacht. Kawamura was so concerned about this aspect of Higuchi’s character that he hesitated to introduce him to the ‘warm-hearted doctor’ Abraham Kaufman, director of the Jewish hospital of Harbin and the unofficial ‘intercessor’ (Heb. shtadlanשתדלן) for the Jewish community of Harbin, whom some considered the leader of the local Jews.Footnote 19 Indeed, Kawamura published this account three times. Yet, despite his concerns, he also expressed great admiration for Higuchi, indicating his complex view of him.Footnote 20
The period when Higuchi assumed his role in Harbin was particularly volatile. With the Second Sino-Japanese War (1937–1945) in full swing, Higuchi was a busy man, as highlighted numerous times in the 300-page history of the Harbin tokumu kikan by Nishihara Yukio.Footnote 21 One thing that Nishihara did not mention, even in passing, was any meeting between Higuchi and Kaufman. However, we do know that two met shortly before and during the first Far Eastern Conference in December 1937. At that time, the number of Jews remaining in Harbin—only a decade earlier the city with the largest community in East Asia—fell to around 2,500.Footnote 22 Since Japan’s invasion of Manchuria in September 1931 and the establishment of its puppet state, Manchukuo, five months later, Japan had implemented a divide-and-rule policy among the various ethnic groups residing there. In response to their deteriorating conditions, members of the Harbin Jewish community steadily left the city, mostly heading to Shanghai.Footnote 23 The 1935 Soviet sale of the 2,489 kilometre-long Chinese Eastern Railway (CER) to Japan, officially to the Manchukuo government, served as additional impetus for local Jews, perhaps as many as a thousand, to leave. This event coincided with a massive reduction in the Russian population, with more than 20,000 Soviet passport holders repatriated to the Soviet Union between April and June.Footnote 24
By the second half of the 1930s, Nazi persecution of Jews in Germany and, after the Anschluss, in Austria had escalated substantially, leading many to seek refuge abroad. However, with the United States largely closing its doors to Jewish immigration and Britain soon after imposing new limitations on immigration to Palestine, possible destinations were narrowing. Dr Kaufman and his associates in the Harbin community correctly anticipated an influx of Jews fleeing from Central Europe eastward and hoped to secure Higuchi’s support, and thereby his superiors’ approval, to allow these potential refugees passage through the Soviet-Manchukuo border. Dr Kaufman had another agenda item to present to Higuchi. Given the desperate situation for Jews in Europe, he proposed organizing a conference for representatives of various East Asian Jewish communities to meet in Harbin. It is conceivable that Higuchi also favoured this idea, aiming to showcase to the world the safety and security of East Asian Jewish communities under Japanese protection, in stark contrast to their perilous situation in Europe. From Higuchi’s perspective, this was a prima facie case of the unofficial Japanese military doctrine of ‘using the Jews’ (J. Yudayajin riyōron). Indeed, his meeting with Dr Kaufman was facilitated by the intervention of Inuzuka Koreshige (1890–1965) and Yasue Norihiro (1886–1950), in the Japanese navy and army, respectively, who were considered ‘experts’ on Jewish matters (J. Yudaya senmonka).Footnote 25
The final months of 1937 marked a challenging period for Japan’s international status. Amid its brutal invasion of the Chinese mainland, reports of Japanese atrocities, particularly the Nanjing Massacre, dominated the front pages of newspapers worldwide. Concurrently, the formation and widespread criticism of the new state of Manchukuo further tarnished Tokyo’s reputation. With Japan set to host the 1940 Olympic Games, there was a dire need to improve the country’s image abroad. At the same time, the appalling treatment of Jews in Europe and their flight overseas presented a peculiar opportunity. If Higuchi and his colleagues could successfully navigate this situation, they believed it might sway influential Jewish figures in the West, particularly in the United States, to change their views on Japan and perhaps even consider investing in the nascent state of Manchukuo. Around this time, high-level Japanese officials began to explore the idea of leveraging ‘world Jewish money’ by resettling a large number of Jewish refugees fleeing Nazi-occupied Europe in their puppet state. The initiative, dubbed the ‘Fugu Plan’, initially sought to bring 50,000 German Jews to Manchuria. However, this scheme never reached even partial realization and had dissolved by 1940.Footnote 26
Regardless of Higuchi’s personal sentiments, the motives he represented—those of his government—were primarily self-serving. While some saw the proposed Jewish Conference in Harbin as a means to attract foreign capital for Manchuria, Japan’s overarching goal was to avoid a rupture with the United States. As historian Maruyama Naoki underscores, leveraging the ‘Jewish card’ was a calculated strategy to serve Japan’s broader geopolitical interests.Footnote 27 In essence, the Japanese fell victim here to their own antisemitic delusions regarding the supposed power of ‘Jewish money’ and ‘Jewish influence’, especially in the United States. With Higuchi’s go-ahead, most likely after consultation with the highest levels of the Guandong Army, and possibly even the War Ministry in Tokyo, the Far Eastern Conference was set in motion. Held in Harbin on 26 December 1937, it brought together 21 delegates from Jewish communities across Tianjin, Manzhouli, Hailar, Qiqihar, Kobe, Fengtian (now Shenyang), and Harbin, with potential representatives from Shanghai and Hong Kong unable to make it. Modest estimates recorded 600–700 Jews in the audience, although some sources suggest that number may have been much higher. Higuchi welcomed the attendees and in an emotional speech reminded them of their prosperity under Japan’s leadership.Footnote 28
Some sources even claim he invoked the terrible memories of the Kishinev pogrom of 1903, calling for humanitarianism and the establishment of a Jewish homeland. However, this would seem to contradict accounts of how Higuchi is said to have addressed Dr Kaufman’s primary concern: refugees. Sugita Rokuichi (1897–1976), a scholar of Jewish history, stated it plainly: the first conference and the subsequent two (held in the following two years) aimed to engage the Jewish community with Japan’s Manchuria policy, to placate them, and to exert pressure on them.Footnote 29 In hindsight, these three conferences had no discernible impact on Japan’s Jewish policy. Manchukuo never opened its gates to a substantial number of Jewish refugees, the Harbin community continued to dwindle under Japanese rule, and by 1943, the Japanese authorities had interned most of the Jews living in the Japanese empire until its surrender.Footnote 30
The various sources from this period paint a nuanced picture of Higuchi’s attitudes towards Jews. His initial encounter with members of this minority occurred during his tenure as a junior officer in Vladivostok. It was in this context that Japanese officers were first introduced to the rampant antisemitic attitudes of White Russians, along with the notorious Protocols of the Elders of Zion—a fabricated document purporting that there was a Jewish plot for global domination.Footnote 31 Higuchi, like many of his contemporaries stationed in this region, was exposed to this text.Footnote 32 Some individuals, such as Lieutenant General Shiōden Nobutaka (1878–1962), became extreme antisemites, while others, like Koyama Takeo, showed a degree of philosemitism. Where did Higuchi stand on this continuum? Yasue had played a leading role in the first translation of the Protocols into Japanese in 1924, and Higuchi, his classmate from the twenty-first class of the Imperial Japanese Army Academy (graduating in 1909), held onto some of his ideas about Jews based on this translation up until the time he penned his autobiography.Footnote 33 Seemingly unaware of the text’s discredited origins, Higuchi continued to view the Protocols as evidence of Jewish resistance to their traditional exclusion and their aspiration for a sovereign state, even towards the end of his life.
Germany was another source for Higuchi’s view of Jews. As David Kranzler noted, this country ‘provided the greatest stimulus to the budding Japanese antisemites’.Footnote 34 Starting in 1927, Shiōden, Inuzuka, Yasue, and Higuchi either visited or were stationed in Germany.Footnote 35 The impact of the Russian and German perspectives over Higuchi’s views of Jews cannot be overlooked. Even in the autumn of his life, he penned ‘the movement of the world revolution is in accordance with this record. Communism is also a cause of this. The central actors in the Russian Revolution were Jews.’Footnote 36 Nazi persecution and the gathering of Jewish refugees in China in the late 1930s did not alter the retired officer’s perception that ‘the power of the Jews in Shanghai was so great’.Footnote 37 Like many of his contemporaries in Japan, his views were a complex blend of prejudice and philosemitism. ‘History has proven,’ he acknowledged, ‘that the Jews possess talent and gift unequalled by any other people in the fields of science, art, and industry.’Footnote 38 Elsewhere in his autobiography, Higuchi remarked that ‘Jews have red hair, but from what I have seen, most of them have black hair. When they are old, they have what is called an eagle nose, but not so much when they are young. In general, a person with dark hair has black eyes and dark skin. Therefore, the first people to be attracted to Japanese youths who go abroad must be Jewish women.’Footnote 39
Personal convictions and actual behaviour do not necessarily align, but in Higuchi’s case, his actions were primarily dictated by the directives and ethos of his superiors. Upon his arrival in Harbin, the situation seemed favourable for the Jewish community. The domestic and, more significantly, international outcry following the kidnapping and subsequent macabre murder of Jewish resident Semion Kaspé in 1933, along with the acquittal of his convicted murderers in January 1937, led the Japanese authorities in Harbin, even before Higuchi’s arrival, to adopt a somewhat more considerate approach towards the local Jewish community.Footnote 40 The precursor of this new trend was the aforementioned Major (later Colonel) Kawamura Aizō, the head of the special high police department of the Harbin Gendarmerie. He had close contact with Kaufman and reportedly transferred antisemitic policemen elsewhere, thereby creating a more Jewish-friendly atmosphere among his subordinates.Footnote 41 With the outbreak of the Second Sino-Japanese War, several weeks prior to Higuchi’s arrival, the incentives for benevolent attitudes grew even greater. Increasingly isolated, Japan was desperate for positive public relations in the West and was willing to soften its treatment of ethnic minorities within its empire.
Indeed, several indications suggest that Higuchi was favourably disposed towards the local Jewish community or, at the very least, receptive to the appeals and initiatives of its leadership. Notably, there are indications that he compelled Konstantin Rodzaevsky (1907–1946), the leader of the Russian Fascist Party (R. Российская фашистская партия; Rossiyskaya fashistskaya partiya), a prime antisemitic group in Harbin, to resign from his newly appointed position as the head of the Bureau for Russian Émigrés. Rodzaevsky had reportedly failed to comply with Higuchi’s request to dissolve the party. Following his dismissal, the publication of the party’s antisemitic daily newspaper, Nash Put’, was banned.Footnote 42 Despite this alleged activity, within Jewish circles, evidence of Higuchi’s benevolence is scant, with the notable exception of his registration in the Golden Book—a point further examined below.
The sole testimony in Higuchi’s favour comes more than six decades later from Theodore (‘Teddy’) Kaufman (1924–2012), the son of Dr Abraham Kaufman. In his 2004 memoir, described by a leading historian of the community as ‘a limited nostalgic account’, the 80-year-old Kaufman fils had only a vague memory of the events in early 1938, when he was just 13.Footnote 43 Higuchi, he nonetheless recalled, ‘was the first general to put an end to the atmosphere of pogroms in Harbin. I consider him to be one of the righteous men of the world, a Japanese man who was a true friend to the Jewish people.’Footnote 44 Still, Higuchi’s actions during his time in Harbin were consistent with those of his superiors. Onouchi Hiroshi (d. 1984), who was an officer in the Special Branch of military intelligence in Harbin under Higuchi in 1938 and attended the first Far Eastern Conference, supported this perspective. In a 1978 interview, Onouchi elaborated on his superior’s behaviour:
The entry of Jewish refugees (to Manchuria) was based on high-level political decisions rather than humanitarian considerations. In other words, this initiative was due to concern about the deterioration of Japan-U.S. relations and was motivated by a desire to reach out to Jews in the U.S. The Quandong Army tacitly endorsed this, and Higuchi’s subsequent promotion suggests that the aid to Jewish refugees was not merely a humanitarian issue.Footnote 45
At no point in the interview did Onouchi mention the ‘Otpor Incident’ nor the actual arrival of any refugees.Footnote 46
The problems with Higuchi’s narrative of the ‘Otpor Incident’
If accepted as truth, Higuchi’s benevolence indeed seems to merit tremendous honour, even posthumously. His alleged act of saving thousands of Jews fleeing from Nazi persecution, while risking both his position and his country’s relations with its recent ally, would be a remarkable feat. However, significant gaps and inconsistencies within the narrative undermine its credibility, casting a shadow of doubt over Higuchi’s purported actions and, by extension, his heroism. As we will discuss in what follows, these concerns include the lack of eyewitness testimonies, incongruence with immigration trends of Jewish refugees and Japanese government policy, absence of evidence for German protests, and discrepancies with the Harbin Jewish community’s expressions of gratitude towards Higuchi’s help.
Lack of evidence for the ‘Otpor Incident’
The most significant problem concerns lack of testimonies for the occurrence of the ‘Otpor Incident’, as the only first-hand account of this episode is provided by Higuchi himself. His narrative suffers from incoherence, erratic jumps between topics, and significant omissions, such as the identity of the refugees, their intentions, and the individuals in Harbin who sought Higuchi’s assistance. Historian Maruyama Naoki, in his insightful work on Jewish communities in the Asia-Pacific region, highlights that no Jewish refugee has ever claimed to have been stranded in Otpor and rescued through Higuchi’s efforts.Footnote 47 Additionally, no official Japanese documents recognize the arrival of 20,000 refugees during Higuchi’s tenure in Harbin, and, similarly, no German or Soviet documents that mention this affair have ever been brought to light.
Watanabe Katsumasa (1937–2018), the foremost Japanese biographer of the Japanese diplomat Sugihara Chiune, presented an obscure testimony that might corroborate the claim of refugees arriving around the time Higuchi suggested. He cites Shōjima Tatsuto, an employee of the South Manchurian Railway Company, who stated that Higuchi had facilitated the passage of refugees on 8 March 1938. Shōjima recalled the initial arrival of 18 refugees, followed by groups of five or ten, totalling approximately 50 refugees by the end of April.Footnote 48 A more substantial indication is found in Yasue Norihiro’s papers and the Foreign Ministry Archives. On 27 August 1938, Yasue noted the arrival of six Jewish refugees from Vienna at the border.Footnote 49 The most reliable statement in this regard came from Arita Hachirō (1884–1965), the Japanese foreign minister, about a year after the presumed incident.Footnote 50 In a response made on 23 February 1939 to an inquiry from a passionate antisemitic Diet member, Akaike Atsushi (1879–1945), as to why Japan had admitted stateless Jews into Manchuria, Arita stated ‘I remember that the number of people was about eighty or less than a hundred.’Footnote 51 Recent scholars have followed Arita’s figure. Austro-Japanese scholar Martin Kaneko (b. 1949) was slightly less generous. Based on the all the sources mentioned above, he estimated the figure of 100 refugees is realistic for the entire year of 1938.Footnote 52 We are still a long way from 20,000.
The most significant testimony regarding this alleged affair was provided by Abraham Kaufman. Recorded and transcribed over two sessions in 1967–1968, his affidavit, previously overlooked, offers crucial insights into this enigma. In this 72-page memoir written in Yiddish, Kaufman recalls the initial arrival of refugees in Harbin: ‘These were 28 young people from Vienna. Some of them went abroad and some stayed in Harbin.’Footnote 53 Eight of them remained in Harbin, finding accommodation in a Jewish-owned hotel in the city. On that day, the police came and arrested them, despite their having Japanese visas, along with Meir Birman (1891–1955), a representative of HIAS, a Jewish-American non-profit organization that has provided humanitarian aid and assistance to Jewish refugees, and since 1975 to any refugee.Footnote 54 In his second recording, Kaufman elaborates on the arrival of the refugees and the background of their arrest, with slightly different figures:
The first refugees came from Austria. 12–15 people arrived from Vienna directly to Harbin. They came to our community. Of course, we accepted them. It was the year 1938, before large-scale emigration from Germany had begun. We rented some rooms in a hotel for them to live in. On the second day, the representative from American HIAS visited them. A very fine man led HIAS in Harbin. He stayed with the refugees, talking to them and helping them get organized. He found work for them and took great care, working alongside the Jewish community.Footnote 55
While Birman was meeting the refugees, the police arrived and arrested all of them. Kaufman rushed to the scene, and three decades later, he provided a detailed account of their release:
‘Where are they?’ I asked [the hotel owner]. ‘They were taken to the police.’ I immediately went to the police station. None of the senior officers was there, not the head of the police department, not the head of the division. I immediately called the representative of the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Over the phone, I told him that I urgently needed to see him and asked him to meet me. He knew me and told me to come right away, he would see me. I arrived at the representation of the Japanese Foreign Ministry. I said to him: ‘What is happening here? Refugees have come, people who were driven out of Vienna, people whose lives have been destroyed. Now they have come here (they came with a Japanese visa; they all had it) and now…’ He immediately called the police. He talked and talked. To me, he said, ‘Be calm, in half an hour they will be back.’ I couldn’t believe it, so I went to the police, secured guarantors, and took all the refugees back to the hotel. This had a strong impact on everyone.Footnote 56
Kaufman’s post-war testimony is crucial for understanding several aspects of the alleged ‘Otpor Incident’ and Higuchi’s role in it. Like the few Japanese accounts mentioned earlier, it refers to the arrival of a very small number of refugees, totalling less than 30. Unlike other accounts, it asserts that the refugees came directly to Harbin, without mentioning any difficulties in crossing the Soviet-Manchukuo border. This is unsurprising since all reportedly obtained Japanese transit visas in their home country, Austria, a few weeks before it was annexed by the German Reich on 13 March 1938. The Jewish community in Harbin, along with the local HIAS representative, took care of those who decided to stay in the city. According to Kaufman, the only Japanese intervention in this affair was the brief arrest of several refugees shortly after they settled in their hotel. For their release, Kaufman contacted the Japanese Foreign Ministry rather than Higuchi, whom he had known personally since the first Far Eastern Conference a few months earlier. Given this testimony from the individual most directly involved in the affair, aside from Higuchi, it becomes clear that the ‘Otpor Incident’ never transpired.
Considering the limited number of refugees and the high probability that no incident occurred at the border, it is unsurprising that their arrival went undocumented by other members of the Jewish community. However, two minor accounts did surface about six decades later. Yaacov Liberman (b. 1923), a Harbin native and one of the leaders of the Shanghai community in the late 1940s, briefly mentioned in his 1998 memoir ‘a handful’ of refugees who arrived in Harbin both via the Trans-Siberian Railway and by sea.Footnote 57 Similarly, Theodore Kaufman recalled in his 2004 memoir the arrival of ‘some Jews’ on the same railway line. Seemingly unaware of his father’s testimony some 37 years earlier, the elderly Kaufman fils noted, ‘General Higuchi accepted the appeal of the Jewish community and interceded in favour of the refugees, so they were admitted into Manchuria. The newcomers were met at the railway station by Betar and Maccabi [Zionist movements] youth and taken to the Astoria Hotel. The next day they continued, by train, to Dairen, and then to Shanghai.’Footnote 58 Given that the younger Kaufman and Liberman were in their early to mid-adolescence at the time, their retrospective accounts most likely reflect a blend of post-war narratives and their personal memories.Footnote 59 Notably, neither Liberman nor Kaufman Jnr mentioned a substantial number of refugees, as they were few enough to be accommodated in just one hotel.
Incongruence with contemporaneous immigration trends
The second gap pertains to broader historical facts about the flight of Jewish refugees to East Asia and its scale. Indeed, some 20,000 Jewish refugees from Germany, Austria, and Poland did seek safe haven in East Asia, but they differ from the refugees mentioned in Higuchi’s narrative in both the timing of their arrival and the course of their journey. The vast majority embarked on their journeys after the large-scale Nazi pogrom on 9–10 November 1938, known as ‘Kristallnacht’, which occurred eight months after the episode described by Higuchi. Furthermore, they almost exclusively travelled via ocean liners departing from Italian ports. The limited capacity of German and Italian liners bound for East Asian waters and the obstacles posed by the Soviet Union in crossing its territory eastward were the main reasons that only about 20,000 refugees were able to reach Shanghai and other East Asian ports, consequently saving their lives.Footnote 60 Those refugees who crossed the Soviet Union did so primarily on Japanese visas, starting in the summer of 1940, with their destination being Vladivostok rather than Manchukuo.Footnote 61
Existing records of train passengers crossing the Manchukuo border at Manzhouli provide strong evidence for the implausibility of the affair. Throughout 1938, only 691 passengers entered through this border passage, while 1,030 departed for the Soviet Union. Among them, 245 were from Germany, the country with the largest representation, and 27 from Poland, with no indication of whether these passengers were Jewish.Footnote 62 Critically, in the same year, no fewer than 234 passengers from Germany and 11 from Poland exited through the same passage. This data suggest that some of the passengers were anything but refugees, given that many of the passengers entering also returned using the same route.Footnote 63
The few refugees who did cross the border near Otpor in 1938 were not in immediate danger, nor were they aware of any concrete plan for their extermination. If denied entry, they could have continued to Vladivostok and from there travelled by sea to Shanghai, a war-torn city that did not require visas for entry, perhaps the only such port in the world at the time. Furthermore, Higuchi himself acknowledged in his autobiography that the refugees had the option to settle in the Jewish Autonomous Oblast of Birobidzhan in the Soviet Union, but explained that, being urban dwellers, they preferred not to take up farming.Footnote 64 In reality, by early 1938, the Japanese government had no special policy regarding the treatment of Jews, nor did it prevent them from entering or transiting through Manchukuo. Thus, officials were expected to treat them the same as their non-Jewish compatriots, which they often did.
It was only on 5 December 1938, some nine months after the alleged ‘Otpor Incident’, that Prime Minister Konoe Fumimaro convened a meeting with his four top ministers (J. Goshō kaigi; lit. ‘The Five Ministers Conference’) to formulate an official policy vis-à-vis Jews for the first time. At stake were the warming relations with Germany and Italy—Japan’s new allies—and the desire to keep Europeans off its territories, which had to be weighed against a lingering pretence of ‘racial equality’. At this point, Japan was still reluctant to alienate world Jewry, whose capital and influence in the United States were regarded as significant. Two days later, the Foreign Ministry updated its overseas consulates about the new guidelines. While avoiding an active embrace of Jews expelled by Japan’s allies, the ministry’s message clearly stated that Jewish refugees would be allowed the same brief transit as non-Jewish applicants.Footnote 65
German protest
The third gap relates to the presumed German response. The popular narrative of the ‘Otpor Incident’ cites an official protest, presumably by the German Foreign Minister, Joachim von Ribbentrop, and submitted by its embassy in Tokyo, expressing the government’s discontent with Japanese assistance to the refugees. This protest was allegedly forwarded by the Japanese Foreign Ministry to the Army Ministry, which sent it to the Guandong Army, whose Chief of Staff eventually ignored it. The notion of such a response implies that Higuchi and his superior risked their positions by intervening in a matter contrary to the interests of Japan’s ally. In reality, the German approach to Jewish refugees before 1941 was complex. Although their general goal at the time was to make Jews leave Europe, it is plausible that German representatives in Harbin were displeased with the arrival of compatriot refugees for unspecified reasons. Kaufman himself suspected German diplomatic meddling as the cause of their brief arrest.Footnote 66 However, at the time of their arrival, a few days before the Anschluss, these Austrian refugees had not yet become German citizens. Critically, there is no evidence of such an intervention, let alone a protest, in either German or Japanese archives.
The German embassy, led by Eugen Ott (1889–1977), did indeed file a protest, but it was not about any ‘rescue of Jews’. The protest was filed approximately two months before the alleged ‘Otpor Incident’, and specifically concerned the involvement of officers belonging to the Japanese Imperial Army, including Higuchi, in the first Far Eastern Conference held in December 1937.Footnote 67 The Japanese Foreign Ministry relayed this protest to the Army Ministry, which then forwarded it to the headquarters of the Guandong Army. Given the significance and scale of the conference, it is implausible that Tōjō Hideki would have been unaware of an event with such international implications, suggesting that it is likely that he approved it.Footnote 68 Under these circumstances, it is reasonable to conclude that this Guandong Army’s Chief of Staff never reprimanded Higuchi. Moreover, whether or not Tōjō inquired into the matter, Higuchi neither jeopardized his position nor faced punishment for ostensibly supporting the Jewish cause. He remained in office until the summer, was subsequently promoted to assistant Chief of Staff at the General Staff Headquarters in Tokyo, and by late 1939, had been elevated to the rank of lieutenant general. These advancements, occurring within about a year-and-a- half of the ‘Otpor Incident’, indicate that Higuchi caused no disturbance.Footnote 69 On the contrary, it seems he pleased and impressed his superiors through his actions.Footnote 70
The Japanese government acknowledged receiving the German protest but did little about it. The only available reference to it is a telegram sent by Japanese Foreign Minister Hirota Kōki (1878–1948) to the Japanese ambassador to the United States, Saitō Hiroshi (1886–1939), mentioning German discontent regarding the first Far Eastern Conference in Harbin. In this cable, sent shortly before the ‘Otpor Incident’, Hirota noted that
The fact that the officers of the Army participated gave the impression that they sponsored the conference for the Jews who were deeply moved, but displeased the Germans, leading to the protest by the German Embassy in Tokyo. As the Jewish problem is related not only with Japan-Germany relations but with the Muslim problem and economic matters, we need to handle it carefully. You are instructed to report such reactions, such as newspaper coverage about the conference in your countries.Footnote 71
The lack of significant Japanese action, beyond a cursory inquiry by the Army Ministry, is not surprising. In fact, prior to the conclusion of the Tripartite Pact on 27 September 1940, and even afterwards, German-Japanese relations were not so close as to permit interference in each other’s domestic affairs.Footnote 72 Moreover, shortly before its invasion of the Soviet Union in June 1941, Nazi Germany sought to address its Jewish problem by promoting the emigration and resettlement of Jews outside Europe, as the 1940 Madagascar Plan demonstrated. Therefore, it seems more likely that the German government would have expressed gratitude towards Higuchi for his supposed aid in facilitating Jewish refugees’ departure from Europe, rather than protesting against it.Footnote 73
Jewish gratitude
The fourth gap involves the inscription of Higuchi in the Jewish National Fund’s (JNF) ‘Golden Book’ as purported evidence of his benevolence during the ‘Otpor Incident’.Footnote 74 Established in 1901, the JNF aimed to purchase and develop land in what is now Israel. One method of fundraising involved its ‘Golden Books’—currently totalling 26 and housed in Jerusalem—which catalogue individuals, from notable figures to ordinary people. Unlike the list of ‘Righteous Among the Nations’ maintained by Yad Vashem since 1963 to commemorate gentiles who took great risks to save Jews during the Holocaust, the ‘Golden Book’ project does not concern itself with rescue and life risking.Footnote 75 The names contained in these JNF volumes are not verified but simply registered upon a donor’s request, initially for a minimum donation of ten pounds, often to mark a family celebration or holiday.Footnote 76 Notably, both Yasue Norihiro, an avowed antisemite involved in organizing the Far Eastern conferences but not in the ‘Otpor Incident’, and Dr Kaufman were listed in the same ‘Golden Book’ volume, along with Higuchi, on 14 July 1941.Footnote 77 This act of recognition and gratitude may have also been in response to the official invitation Kaufman received for a one-month visit in Japan with his wife in May 1939. Accompanied by Yasue, he was afforded the opportunity to meet high-ranking government officials and engage in sightseeing.Footnote 78 Kaufman, nonetheless, never associated either Higuchi’s or Yasue’s registration with the act of ‘saving Jews’, as is currently touted. At Yad Vashem, too, there has never been any doubt about this issue. Higuchi is not one the 28,217 ‘Righteous Among the Nations’ currently registered by this organization.Footnote 79
In an ironic twist of history, it is the JNF that today, ignorantly, champions Higuchi’s supposed rescue efforts on its website, despite offering no evidence to substantiate such claims.Footnote 80 For Higuchi’s proponents, the JNF website serves as definitive proof of his heroism.Footnote 81 However, it seems reasonable to assume that Dr Kaufman appreciated Higuchi for his consideration, when compared to the attitude of his predecessors, and especially for his support for the first Far Eastern Conference. Yet, there is no evidence to suggest he was grateful for Higuchi’s assistance with any refugees, leading to the registration of this Japanese lieutenant general in the Jewish National Fund’s ‘Golden Book’ more than three years after the purported ‘Incident’. By then, in fact, Japanese policy towards Jews had changed completely, as it even began to deport refugees staying on its home islands to Shanghai.Footnote 82 In a ceremony held in Harbin on 1 November 1941, the community bestowed the Golden Book certificate upon Yasue. Higuchi was absent, by then long distanced from Jewish affairs. Considering Dr Kaufman’s motivation, the registration in the ‘Golden Book’ seems to be an attempt to curry favour with the Japanese rather than as a belated act of gratitude for past acts.
Dr Kaufman’s motivation in dealing with Japanese authorities throughout these turbulent decades is evident. As historian Takao Chizuko suggests, he ‘attempted to ensure the safety of the Jewish communities in Manchukuo and under Japan’s control, by cooperating with Japan and by actively using Japan’s “plan to take advantage of the Jews”’.Footnote 83 In hindsight, these efforts to appease Japanese officials with tokens acknowledging their support or even neutrality seem justifiable. The general trend in Harbin was unfavourable to the Jews, and by 1940, the initial vision of settling Manchuria with Jewish refugees was abandoned. At the time that Higuchi and Yasue’s names were registered in the ‘Golden Book’, the number of refugees reaching Manchuria had diminished substantially, but the Harbin Jewish community remained anxious about the Japanese regime. Years later, Israeli historian Meron Medzini noted, ‘Kaufman (who immigrated to Israel in 1961) explained that the Jews of Harbin had no choice but to collaborate with the Japanese authorities in order to survive. This argument was repeated by his son Theodore.’Footnote 84
Recently, some Japanese authors have taken the notion of Jewish gratitude towards Higuchi even further. They claim that shortly after the war, Soviet authorities approached the American Occupation Forces in Japan requesting the extradition of Higuchi to be prosecuted. According to these authors, the Americans refused this request due to the intervention of the World Jewish Congress with the US Department of Defense. They attribute this supposed protection to the ‘Higuchi visas’ issued during the ‘Otpor Incident’.Footnote 85 Not only is this notion of visas issued in Manchuria borrowed from another story—that of Sugihara in Lithuania—but none of these authors has provided any sources to substantiate their claims about this post-war Soviet request and Jewish protection. Overall, the popular narrative depicting the Jewish community in Harbin, or even the World Jewish Congress, expressing gratitude to Higuchi for rescuing Jewish refugees lacks factual support. While it is true that the Harbin community registered Higuchi and Yasue, along with Dr Kaufman, in the ‘Golden Book’, the reasons for this are contested. It appears that this act of registration was related to their role in organizing the first Far Eastern Conference and its impact on the next two, rather than any rescue efforts. Furthermore, it may not have been purely an act of gratitude but rather a strategic measure to secure fair treatment in the future.
Summary: What happened at the Manchurian border in March 1938?
The significant gaps found in the narrative do not necessarily suggest it is completely without a basis in truth. Historical events are rarely shown in their entirety, as reality often exceeds the imagination in complexity and unpredictability, providing the seed for invented stories. Thus, what real events might have led Higuchi to propose this rescue narrative in the post-war era? As noted earlier, several individuals or small groups of Jews did arrive at the border point between Otpor and Manzhouli throughout 1938. A handful of reliable accounts indicate their presence. If we take Shōjima Tatsuto’s obscure testimony as accurate, on 8 March 1938, 18 individuals were stranded at the border. According to the story, they were prohibited from entering, and news of their predicament reached Dr Kaufman, who knew Higuchi well from their collaboration just over two months prior at the Far Eastern Conference. Higuchi’s intervention, possibly a personal favour to Kaufman, is said to have facilitated or expedited their entry into Manchukuo territory.
However, in his detailed post-war testimony, Kaufman tells a different story. Holding Japanese visas, the refugees, fewer than 30 in total, arrived directly in Harbin. Those who decided to stay in the city settled in a local hotel but were arrested by the Japanese police within a day. Rushing to the police station, Kaufman was able to negotiate their release using his connections in the Japanese Foreign Ministry. Yet, could Higuchi have been the grey eminence behind the quick release, and perhaps the arrest as well? Kaufman, for one, does not offer us a clue. In fact, he does not mention Higuchi anywhere in this entire affair or in any other part of his extensive account, despite positively referencing other Japanese officers.Footnote 86 This omission is quite striking. Regardless of which testimony we choose to believe, be it that of the pro-Japanese Kaufman who was present at the scene or of some questionable source cited in Japanese secondary literature, it is evident that the incident was so minor that it went unnoticed at the time. There was no recorded protest from the German embassy concerning this matter, and the Jewish community in Harbin did not deem it significant enough to warrant immediate recognition. Higuchi’s name was neither documented in writing nor registered in the JNF’s ‘Golden Book’ until 1941, despite the possibility of doing so immediately afterwards. The delay suggests the registration was not an act of appreciation for the ‘saving of Jews’, a practice that only became widespread at least a decade after the establishment of Yad Vashem in 1953.
Overall, our analysis found no evidence supporting the occurrence of the ‘Otpor Incident’ or the heroic acts attributed to Higuchi. Contrary to the popular narrative in contemporary Japan, there were not a large number of Jewish refugees—certainly not 20,000 and very likely not even a hundred—stranded on the Soviet-Manchukuo border in early 1938 or at any time before or thereafter. In fact, according to Dr Kaufman’s post-war testimony, none of the few dozen refugees arriving in Harbin in early 1938 was stranded at the border. Accordingly, Higuchi’s supposed humanitarian act, as portrayed in the media today, is either a complete fabrication or, at best, an exaggerated account of a very minor incident in which, at most, several Jewish refugees were allowed to cross the border or released from Japanese arrest. These hypothetical passengers had other options for crossing the Soviet Union and, crucially, their lives were not at immediate risk. Therefore, if Higuchi did contribute to their passage or release, his involvement was on a much smaller scale than is widely believed. His role, at most, might have been limited to granting official approval for the passage of a small group of Jews en route to Shanghai or arranging for their release from arrest in Harbin. Contrary to the post-war legend, this action was so minor and aligned with general policy that it did not attract the attention of higher authorities outside Harbin, and consequently Higuchi faced no inquiry about it. Given this limited involvement, the recent accolades bestowed upon this army officer seem utterly disproportionate. The following section will examine how this narrative developed over time and explore the motives behind its promotion.
Part II: The rise of a legend and its motives
The post-war rise of a legend
The emergence of the narrative about the rescue of thousands of Jewish refugees stranded in Otpor is not a recent development. However, Higuchi’s progression from initial anonymity to eventual fame, through exposure and recognition, spanned almost half a century in a few distinct stages.Footnote 87 Curiously, it took 15 years for this story to gain initial attention, with the earliest recorded mention of what would later be termed the ‘Otpor Incident’ dating to 1953. That year, author Mimura Saburō (1904–1975) published his work Yudaya mondai to uragaeshite mita Nihon rekishi (Japanese History Seen through the Reversal of the Jewish Problem), in which he asserted that Higuchi saved ‘some 30,000, 40,000 Jews’ fleeing Nazi persecution.Footnote 88 Espousing earlier ideas about the common ancestry of the Japanese and Jewish peoples, the book portrayed figures previously known for their wartime antisemitism as philosemites. In one chapter, Mimura analysed the pre-war record of three military men: Yasue, Inuzuka, and Higuchi, suggesting that their interactions showcased the Jewish community’s recognition of a profound, spiritual bond between the two groups. For Mimura, the irrefutable proof of Higuchi’s heroism lay in his inclusion in the ‘Golden Book’:
From ancient times, the Jewish people have had two types of books: the Golden Book and the Silver Book … Having one’s name recorded is considered a great honor, as it signifies eternal gratitude and admiration from all Jews. Unlike the Nobel Prize, which is a worldly honor, the distinction of having one’s name inscribed in these books is revered almost as a sacred ‘Chronicle of God’.Footnote 89
A decade later, Yoshida Toshio echoed Mimura’s claims about Higuchi’s rescue in an article for the prestigious weekly Bungei Shunjū.Footnote 90 However, apart from these and a few other minor references, the story remained virtually unknown throughout the 1950s and 1960s. The initial broader recognition in Japan came only with Higuchi’s passing in 1970. A day after his funeral, his efforts to aid Jewish refugees made headlines in the English-language press.Footnote 91 Within a month after Higuchi’s death, Kawamura Aizō published his own version of the story, recounting the influx of 20,000 refugees into the border from Germany. However, his very brief account added no new information.Footnote 92 Then, the seminal and most influential source regarding Higuchi’s exploits emerged with his own autobiography, published in 1971.Footnote 93 Autobiographies are generally considered problematic as a sources of historical information, and this is especially true in the case of Higuchi’s book.Footnote 94 A quick glance at the title of the autobiography, Reminiscences of the Commander of Attu and Kiska Island, suggests that Higuchi himself did not view the 1938 episode with Jewish refugees as the focal point of his career. Written by a frail and ageing man decades after the events and heavily edited posthumously, the book details the author’s initial interactions with Jews as well as the purported story of the rescue, explicitly restating the figure of 20,000 refugees. Reissued three more times, this unreliable autobiography has become the primary source for every subsequent reference to this episode and the core of the ‘Higuchi myth’.Footnote 95
Another key figure in promoting the Higuchi legend during that formative decade was Sagara Shunsuke, a novelist specializing in military fiction, who focused particularly on the Asia-Pacific War. In 1971, Sagara commented on this incident in the national daily Asahi Shimbun, leading the Jewish Telegraphic Agency (JTA) to report on Higuchi’s pre-war efforts on behalf of Jewish refugees. Among other details, this article highlighted that Higuchi ‘dispatched a fleet of 12 trains to Otpor, transported the [20,000] refugees to Harbin, and provided them with food and temporary housing in the Harbin military barracks. About 5,000 of the Jews stayed in Harbin, while the others went on to Shanghai and beyond.’Footnote 96 Two years later, Sagara’s writings further solidified the vivid impression left by Higuchi’s memoir. Reissued several times, his first of two novels on this affair, Ryūhyō no umi—ano gunshireikan no ketsudan (The Sea of Drift Ice: A Military Commander’s Decision), included strong assertions about Higuchi’s deeds.Footnote 97 Despite these references, major books published in English dealing with the state of Jewish refugees in wartime East Asia remained oblivious to the story. While focusing on the plight of Jewish communities in Manchuria and referencing Higuchi’s involvement in the Far Eastern Conference, based on interviews with individuals involved, neither David Kranzler’s pioneering Japanese, Nazis, and Jews (1976) nor Marvin Tokayer’s oft-cited The Fugu Plan (1979) mentioned the ‘Otpor Incident’, not even in passing.Footnote 98
Higuchi and the ‘Otpor Incident’ only began to receive significant attention in the 1990s, gaining not just national but also international exposure. That decade witnessed some of the most important publications on Jewish-Japanese relations, all of which embraced Higuchi’s narrative as factual, relying on his autobiography as their principal or exclusive source on this topic. Israeli historian Ben-Ami Shillony, in his work The Jews and the Japanese (1991), stated that Higuchi, alongside Yasue, was charged with executing the policy outlined by the Five Ministers Conference, and claimed that he ‘allowed thousands of Jewish refugees to settle in Manchuria’.Footnote 99 Shillony also noted that the rescue efforts undertaken by Higuchi and Yasue led the Jewish community in Harbin to commemorate them in the ‘Golden Book’ and incited a protest from the German ambassador in Tokyo, ‘but the Japanese government ignored his protests’.Footnote 100 Similarly, David G. Goodman and Miyazawa Masanori, in their highly acclaimed Jews in the Japanese Mind (1995), briefly noted that Higuchi ‘made the decision to admit Jewish refugees to Manchukuo’.Footnote 101 They too reiterated the narrative that Nazi Germany’s protest over this decision was communicated to the Japanese Foreign Ministry and quoted Higuchi’s response to the inquiry from Tōjō directly from his 1971 autobiography.Footnote 102 A year later, Hillel Levine suggested in his bestseller In Search of Sugihara (1996) that Higuchi ‘may have been anti-Nazi’, noting that he ‘even rescued a trainload of nearly frozen Jewish refugees who had been stranded on the border in late 1938’.Footnote 103
This widespread acceptance of Higuchi’s narrative in academic writings notwithstanding, the remarkable ascent of his legend has unfolded mostly during the last two decades. Wikipedia may provide a measurable indicator of this escalating interest. The first Wikipedia entry about Higuchi was created in March 2004 in Japanese. Initially extremely brief, this entry consisted of just two sentences, mentioning only that Higuchi ‘saved 20,000 Jews from Nazi German persecution’.Footnote 104 Since its modest beginnings, this entry has been edited hundreds of times, becoming extremely long and elaborate.Footnote 105 It has attracted significant attention and was replicated and modified in an additional 15 languages. The initial English Wikipedia entry for Higuchi was created in 2008, the same day as the German entry but a year after the Korean entry. Within its concise four-line description, it claimed that Higuchi ‘allowed approximately 20,000 Jewish refugees from Europe to cross the border from the Soviet Union to Manchuria’.Footnote 106 The explicit name ‘Otpor Incident’ first appeared in the Japanese and English Wikipedia entries about Higuchi in November 2006 and March 2016, respectively.Footnote 107
Initial scepticism about Higuchi’s testimony emerged decades after the ‘Otpor Incident’ was first reported. In 2000, writer and publisher Watanabe Katsumasa was probably the first to question the narrative, especially the alleged number of refugees arriving at Otpor in March 1938. He noted that by the end of 1938, the entire Jewish population in Manchukuo was roughly 5,400, with an additional 5,000 in Shanghai.Footnote 108 Three years later, Austrian-Japanese scholar Martin Kaneko offered a detailed review of the reports concerning the ‘Otpor Incident’. In two books, initially in Japanese and later revised for a German translation in 2008, Kaneko scrutinized the number of refugees purportedly saved by Higuchi. Based on JTB data, he suggested that no more than 5,000 Jews crossed the Soviet-Manchukuo border from 1938 to June 1941, a period when the German offensive against the Soviet Union closed this escape route for European Jews.Footnote 109 However, he deduced that in March 1938, the number crossing did not exceed 18.Footnote 110 In 2008, Kaneko concluded that due to the absence of sources proving the authenticity of ‘the current versions of these events [the “Otpor Incident”] must be a fabrication by nationalistic Japanese forces’.Footnote 111 However, he refrained from elaborating further on this possibility and the motives behind it.
Critically, neither Kaneko’s insights nor Watanabe’s scepticism has gained traction or acknowledgement in media circles or academic discourse. By the time Kaneko published his book in German, there had already been several attempts by Japanese to nominate Higuchi for Yad Vashem’s ‘The Righteous Among the Nations’ status, recognizing him as a saviour of Jews during the Holocaust. Among other efforts, the Japanese embassy in Israel has reportedly been in discussions with Yad Vashem since 2005 regarding this nomination, but without success.Footnote 112 A formal request for nomination was reportedly submitted as recently as 2017. However, Yad Vashem has declined these attempts primarily due to the lack of testimony or documentation attesting to the veracity of the affair, which is a fundamental criterion for such a nomination.Footnote 113 This lack of official recognition did not prevent the Israeli embassy in Tokyo from sending olive saplings to Ogaki, Higuchi’s hometown, in 2009. This gesture was regarded by its citizens as an expression of gratitude to the army officer and a commemoration of his accomplishments.Footnote 114
During the 2010s, several individuals emerged as key promoters of recognizing Higuchi’s rescue story. The first key person has been the lieutenant general’s grandson, Higuchi Ryūichi (b. 1946), a conductor and music professor at a private university in Tokyo, who earned his doctorate from Tübingen University. Since 1999, Professor Higuchi has been heavily involved in each of the three reissues of his grandfather’s autobiography.Footnote 115 Then, following his retirement about a decade later, he intensified his efforts to promote his grandfather’s legacy, delivering lectures domestically and travelling internationally to disseminate the story and gather testimony related to the event. Among other places, Professor Higuchi visited Israel in 2018 with the support of the Foreign Ministry and delivered a public lecture at the Japanese embassy in Tel Aviv. His photos with the certificate of registration in the ‘Golden Book’ and a meeting with descendants of (presumably) refugees appeared in various media outlets.
Even more crucial for these commemoration efforts was the involvement of the late Kase Hideaki (1936–2022). A prolific writer on issues of foreign policy and one of Japan’s leading historical revisionists, Kase was interested in the story of Higuchi for many years but became involved in his commemoration only in the late 2010s.Footnote 116 As head of the Society for the Dissemination of Historical Fact, as well as a member of other similar ‘revisionist’ groups, he fought indefatigably to alter negative images of imperial Japan and its conduct in the Second Sino-Japanese War (1937–1945) and the Asia-Pacific War. His influence enabled him to garner numerous new supporters for the cause, significantly contributing to the growing recognition of and support for Higuchi. Meanwhile, Kase viewed himself as a ‘friend of the Jews’, having collaborated on the publication of books on Jewish topics since the 1970s.Footnote 117 Consequently, the ‘Otpor Incident’ presented him with a unique opportunity to leverage his understanding of the wartime Jewish experience for the advancement of his revisionist goals.
Together with Professor Higuchi, Kase established the Association in Honor of Lieutenant General Higuchi (J. ‘Higuchi Rikugun Chūjō Kenshōkai’) and brought the story to the media’s attention. The association quickly gathered many willing enthusiasts enchanted by this wartime benevolence. Kase also managed to recruit international backing from several American and Israeli Jews, including the Chabad Lubavitch rabbi in Tokyo, who were willing to lend support to the story without scrutinizing its credibility.Footnote 118 Another recent figure promoting the memory of the ex-lieutenant general has been the senior journalist Okabe Noburu of the conservative national newspaper Sankei Shimbun. Having previously served as the newspaper’s Moscow and London bureau chief, and more recently as a member of the Tokyo head office, Okabe possesses a strong passion for matters concerning Japan’s historical image, focusing on the Asia-Pacific War. In this capacity, he has authored a book and numerous articles in both Japanese and English, underscoring Higuchi’s wartime achievements.Footnote 119
In the early 2020s, Higuchi’s recognition in Japan had reached the stage of fame. His humanitarian efforts to save Jewish refugees garnered extensive coverage, with numerous articles about the ‘Otpor Incident’ appearing in the local, national, and international press.Footnote 120 This was complemented by several documentary films and TV coverage.Footnote 121 In terms of tangible memory, the last several years have proved momentous. In September 2020, a small museum for the memory of Higuchi was inaugurated in Ishikari, Hokkaido, marking the fiftieth anniversary of his death.Footnote 122 The location was chosen because the retired lieutenant general had stayed in the region after the war, but also because the organizers wanted ‘people to know about how he tried to protect Hokkaido from the Soviet Union’. Nevertheless, more than half of the permanent exhibition is devoted to Higuchi’s involvement in the rescue of Jews.Footnote 123 The year 2022 appeared to be the zenith of commemoration of Higuchi’s heroism and his purported rescue of the Jewish refugees. The celebrations that year culminated in October with the unveiling of a life-size statue of Higuchi at the Izanagi Shinto Shrine in his home island of Awaji.Footnote 124 A month later, a large conference was held in Tokyo commemorating the memory of Higuchi, ‘the protector of Hokkaido, the savior of Jews’, with major domestic and foreign supporters, including the singer Ishii Merehisa (b. 1965), in attendance. In May 2023, some hundred guests attended the unveiling ceremony of the Kiichiro Higuchi Monument at the Engakuji Buddhist temple in the old capital of Kamakura, south of Tokyo.Footnote 125
At the same time, the legend of Higuchi has recently encountered its first significant challenges. Starting in 2022, a few brief articles began expressing serious doubts about the truth of the ‘Otpor Incident’, sparking a near debate in the media.Footnote 126 By the end of 2022, Kase Hideaki’s passing and the subsequent announcement of the dissolution of the Association in Honor of Higuchi marked a turning point.Footnote 127 Likewise, Professor Higuchi has become more cautious, refraining from associating his grandfather with the ‘miracles’ previously attributed to him. In the 2022 edition of the autobiography, he adjusted the number of refugees ‘saved’ to ‘several thousand’ and included a detailed preface to the chapter on Jewish refugees. Moreover, in lectures held in Vienna in 2023 and Kyoto in 2024, Professor Higuchi no longer mentioned the ‘Otpor Incident’, focusing instead on his grandfather’s establishment of ‘a pro-Jewish policy first in Manchuria and then within the Japanese government’.Footnote 128
Indeed, the current focus on Higuchi’s heroism has shifted slightly. More cautious supporters claim his main contribution was the alleged establishment of the ‘Higuchi Route’ (J. Higuchi rūto) through which 20,000 Jewish refugees supposedly escaped Europe.Footnote 129 In other words, by allowing Jews to cross the border in March 1938 and by formulating government policy towards them later that year, Higuchi is credited with opening the gates for the large-scale flight of Jewish refugees before the Asia-Pacific War. This notion is as baseless as the earlier concepts of the ‘Otpor Incident’, as it allows Higuchi to claim credit for any Jewish refugee arriving in East Asia until 1941, whether by sea or by rail, and whether directly to Shanghai or via Vladivostok. Despite this incredible claim and Professor Higuchi’s reservations, as of early 2024, the Higuchi Kiichiro Museum’s website continues to credit him with the saving of 20,000 refugees as his principal achievement.Footnote 130
Underlying motives behind this story and its recent success
Our conclusion that the ‘Otpor Incident’ may never have occurred, certainly not under the circumstances touted today and on a scale deserving to be referred to as an ‘incident’, necessitates an explanation. What could have been the motives for exaggerating a minor episode in which a small group of refugees was allowed to enter Manchukuo and turning it into an epic story of benevolence and heroism? The following section is dedicated to analysing these motives, which are divided into two periods: first, Higuchi’s reasons for promoting this story, and secondly, the narrative’s escalation, particularly during the last two decades.
Higuchi’s personal motives for concocting this story in the post-war era are relatively straightforward, taking into account the sociocultural context of the time and the psychological incentives involved. In the early 1950s, former officers who had past dealings with Jewish refugees and communities, many of whom harboured certain antisemitic convictions, sought to redeem themselves by adopting a positive stance towards Jews in general and the newly established Jewish state in particular. Inuzuka, previously an ardent believer in the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, exemplifies this change. Charged with war crimes shortly after the war, he played the ‘Jewish card’ once more, this time for his own benefit. During his trial, he presented a silver cigarette case he had received in 1941 from the Union of Orthodox Rabbis of the United States as proof of his wartime benevolence.Footnote 131 Inuzuka was acquitted, and in 1952 he founded the Japan-Israel Association (J. Nihon Isuraeru Kyōkai), serving as its president until his death in 1965, despite increasing opposition from within the Tokyo Jewish community.Footnote 132
Mimura Saburō, the first writer to bring Higuchi’s story to public attention in 1953, exemplifies another notable shift. Once a communist who was forced to undergo ideological conversion (J. tenkō; lit. ‘changing direction’), he became the person behind the public conversion of several individuals involved in pre-war and wartime Jewish policy from outspoken antisemites to philosemites. In Mimura’s view, anyone in wartime Japan who took an interest in Jews was a philosemite, which he considered ‘the highest expression of Japanese patriotism’.Footnote 133 Higuchi, with no apparent record of antisemitism and having received a token of gratitude from the Harbin Jewish community, was an ideal candidate for this portrayal. Mimura’s fascination with Jewish topics began after the war, leading to the publication of his first book on the subject in 1950.
Between the publication of his two books, the Japanese translation of Anne Frank’s A Diary of a Young Girl was released in December 1952, quickly gaining widespread acclaim.Footnote 134 This book topped the bestseller list in 1953, and with approximately six million copies sold to date, it has become one of the most popular literary works in post-war Japan.Footnote 135 While it was interpreted in Japan as a narrative of universal suffering and the victimhood of war—a sentiment deeply resonant with the Japanese in the early 1950s—Jewish suffering had by then emerged as a legitimate topic of interest. Eight months later, Mimura released his second book focusing on Japan’s wartime relationship with Jews, this time highlighting Higuchi’s humanitarianism. This strategically timed publication portrayed the army general as a saviour of Jews, subtly hinting to readers a heroic figure who could have saved young Anne Frank.Footnote 136 Higuchi, his grandson contends, never spoke about his war experience and the rescue of Jews.Footnote 137 Yet, Mimura’s book leaves no room for doubt about the origins of the story. It details a meeting with Higuchi at his Miyazaki residence, explicitly indicating that the retired lieutenant general himself was the source for the narrative Mimura crafted.Footnote 138
In the late 1960s, as the ageing and reticent Higuchi was writing his autobiography, the story of his humanitarian assistance to thousands of refugees had already been circulating for close to two decades. Not only was there no turning back, but the incentive to repeat it was growing. By then, several years after the end of the Eichmann trial, the Holocaust and notions of Jewish tribulation had become well-known in Japan. Japanese reporters followed the trial closely and the media was very sympathetic to Jews.Footnote 139 In addition, in 1968, the aforementioned story of Sugihara Chiune was first reported in the Japanese media.Footnote 140 This brief yet impactful recognition of this wartime diplomat and the media coverage of his benevolence might have inspired Higuchi to highlight his own purported compassion for the Jews in a book of his own.
Higuchi’s autobiography marked a significant change of course, as this retired army officer had not shown any interest in Jews or curiosity in the incoming refugees since his stint in Harbin. Notably, he never visited Israel or even its embassy in Tokyo, as Sugihara did in 1969, nor did he join colleagues, such as Inuzuka, in any public activities related to this issue. For Higuchi, the 25-page chapter on his Otpor exploit was not a major episode in his autobiography, as its title suggests, especially in comparison to his role on the island of Kiska, or, in terms of space devoted, to his experiences in Siberia and Poland. Nonetheless, now, in his twilight years, he seemed intent on being remembered not merely as a military leader intricately involved in the nation’s defeat but as a humanitarian known for his profound benevolence. Boosting the popularity and sales of his book could have been another motive. In May 1970, five months before Higuchi’s death, the book Nihonjin to Yudayajin (The Japanese and the Jews) was an instant success.Footnote 141 Selling over a million copies, it became Japan’s bestseller that year. Suddenly, the topic of Jews, even when contrasted with Japanese as the book did, became a source of public interest and robust sales.
The figure of 20,000 refugees Higuchi mentioned in his autobiography, perhaps echoed the prevalent estimate of Jewish refugees in Shanghai at its peak, around 1941. A few writers have offered other explanations for this figure. Watanabe Katsumasa suggested that Higuchi might have been thinking of approximately 20,000 Jewish city dwellers who had settled in the Jewish Autonomous Region known as Birobidzhan. Higuchi noted that since they were unsuited for agricultural labour, these individuals decided to move en masse to nearby Manchukuo en route to Shanghai.Footnote 142 Lately, Higuchi’s grandson has argued that at the time of writing his autobiography, the elderly and confused retired officer simply made a mistake regarding the number of refugees.Footnote 143 In the new edition of his grandfather’s autobiography, he amended the figure to ‘several thousands’. Other proponents of the story have gone so far as to suggest that the figure was made up posthumously, perhaps by the editor, since Higuchi’s manuscript, kept in the archives of the Japanese Ministry of Defense, carries the figure ‘thousands of people’ (J. nan sen’nin), or was simply change ‘due to a typo’.Footnote 144 However, as Mimura’s book indicates, it was the Higuchi himself who initially spoke of even more than 20,000. Regardless of Higuchi’s motives for using this figure, and despite recent research indicating a lower actual number, this rounded figure had become the accepted approximation and was well known in his time.Footnote 145
During the last decade, the drive behind Professor Higuchi and right-wing revisionist Kase Hideaki’s actions has taken on a broader scope. After his retirement, Professor Higuchi began his efforts to honour his grandfather’s memory, initially failing to fully grasp the nuanced discrepancies and complexities of the narrative. He has dedicated himself to not only bolstering his grandfather’s legacy but also to uplifting Japan’s national image. Kase, for one, saw the narrative as an opportunity to glorify the essence of imperial Japan. He challenged the widely held belief that Sugihara was dismissed due to his disobedience to the Foreign Ministry’s instructions. In contrast, Kase esteemed Higuchi as a symbol of the military’s virtues, positing that his actions cast a favourable light on other notable figures within this institution, which had faced scrutiny in the post-war era. However, the story’s significant ascension cannot be solely attributed to the dedication of a loyal family member, a fervent nationalist, and their collaborative association.Footnote 146
It was the geopolitical and cultural circumstances of the 1990s, we argue, that played a pivotal role in Higuchi’s rise to fame. In that decade, the Japanese public were faced with mounting new evidence for Japanese wartime atrocities. This included revelations about the horrifying exploits of Biological Warfare Unit 731, the mass coercion of foreign women (known by the euphemism ‘comfort women’) to serve Japanese military men sexually, and further testimonies about the Nanjing Massacre.Footnote 147 With prime ministers Hosokawa Morihiro and Murayama Tomiichi expressing remorse for a war of aggression in speeches given in 1993 and 1995, it seemed at first that Japan had entered a new age. As the Cold War ended, Yoshida Yutaka suggests, both ‘the Japanese government and business circles concluded that the historical consciousness problem constitutes an obstacle both to Japan’s becoming a “great power” (J. taikoku) and to the strengthening of the Japan-U.S. alliance’.Footnote 148
However, right-wing circles were quick to fight back. In 1997, they founded the Society for the Production of New History Textbooks (Atarashii rekishi kyōkasho o tsukuru-kai), which denied the recent acknowledgements of wrongdoing while trying hard to improve the image of their country both domestically and internationally by rewriting its recent history. Its efforts concern particularly the nation’s conduct in Asia during the so-called Fifteen-Year War, referring to the period from the Mukden Incident of September 1931 to Japan’s surrender in August 1945. The irony is that revisionists have resorted increasingly to involving Jews in their revised histories. The domestic discourse about the help given to Jews linked the Japanese experience with the Jews and the Holocaust, echoing Pierre Nora’s statement that ‘Whoever says memory, says Shoah’ cannot be overstated. It was during the 1990s that Sugihara began to gain fame in Japan, following a book authored by his wife, the film ‘Schindler List’, and political pressure on the Foreign Ministry to issue an apology to his family.Footnote 149 Likewise, contemporary narratives about Higuchi’s purported rescue are tied to right-wing authors and groups, and have consistently attempted to recast the Japanese empire through Higuchi’s supposed heroism. Unlike Nazi Germany, current nationalist circles contend, Japan befriended the Jews and strived to save them.
Higuchi and the ‘Otpor Incident’ have become the epitome of these rescue efforts. For Kase, for example, Higuchi represented the virtuousness of imperial Japan itself while serving a larger cause and leaders. Kase was not interested in this general per se since he was a figure of minor importance, who was not even put on trial by the Allies. His holy grail was Tōjō Hideki, who eventually served as Japan’s wartime prime minister and soon after the war ended became the main figure among the Japanese leadership to be tried and found guilty in the Tokyo War Crimes Tribunal. In the late 1990s, Kase was involved as a consultant in the production of the melodramatic film Puraido: unmei no shunkan プライド 運命の瞬間 (‘Pride: The Fateful Moment’; 1998) which aimed to reverse historical reputation of Tōjō during and after his trial. It is not surprising, then, that he elaborated now on Higuchi’s testimony that he did not act alone. It was Tōjō, Kase insisted in an interview not long before his death, who made the ultimate decisions: ‘Higuchi took the initiative, but Tōjō approved.’Footnote 150
The ascent of ultra-nationalism into the mainstream during Prime Minister Abe Shinzō’s tenure (2012–2020) played a critical role in catapulting Higuchi’s legacy from recognition to widespread fame. As the longest-serving prime minister in Japanese history, Abe did more than any other politician before him to redefine the modern history of Japan. As part of this mission, he took part in various events commemorating wartime figures who contributed to the national image Abe envisioned. Visiting the pre-war Japanese consulate building in Kaunas where Sugihara issued transit visas to Jewish refugees, he stated ‘I am really very proud of him as a Japanese.’ He echoed this sentiment three months later at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington.Footnote 151 In 2021, Abe also praised Higuchi, along with Sugihara, for ‘protecting many Jews, and whose contribution to the Jewish people is honored in Israel’s Golden Book’.Footnote 152
Like Kase, Abe was a senior member of Nippon Kaigi (lit. Japan Conference), Japan’s largest far right-wing organization. Founded in 1997 and gathering a membership exceeding 35,000, this conservative mass movement and highly influential lobbying group is keenly interested in shaping Japan’s image and its contemporary historiography.Footnote 153 The emergence of Nippon Kaigi is linked to the concurrent declining narrative of post-war Japan as a victim. In the early 1990s, Japan was confronted with an increasing amount of new and horrific evidence of its wartime atrocities.Footnote 154 The backlash that followed led to a strong movement of historical revisionism later in that decade, coinciding with a global trend of historical revisionism that emerged in the wake of the Soviet Union’s fall and the end of the Cold War.Footnote 155 Nippon Kaigi was one such platform of revisionism. Since its inception, it has been deeply driven by resentment towards Japan’s post-war settlement and the portrayal of Japanese modern history, particularly its wartime chapter, both at home and abroad.Footnote 156
In his capacity as a special adviser of Nippon Kaigi, Abe may illustrate some of the attraction that Higuchi and similar figures, who purportedly helped Jews, hold for contemporary Japanese. With growing public fascination with this army general, official Japan did not lag behind in capitalizing on his potential contribution to embellish the image of wartime Japan.Footnote 157 Even after Abe’s resignation in 2020, the Japanese government continued to take part in the dissemination and preservation of Higuchi’s memory. It has recently proffered increasing visibility, and arguably, legitimacy to narratives of Higuchi’s heroism, including sponsoring international travel and lectures for his grandson. A case in point is the invitation extended by the Embassy of Japan to the Holy See to Professor Higuchi to give a presentation in 2023. The embassy posted online that ‘General Kiichiro Higuchi has been venerated in Japan as the saviour of the Jewish refugees in Manchuria from the last war.’Footnote 158 During the same trip, Higuchi gave a presentation at the University of Vienna alongside the Japanese ambassador to Austria, Mizuuchi Ryūta, who had earlier translated Medzini’s Under the Shadow of the Rising Sun into Japanese.Footnote 159 In Ambassador Mizuuchi’s presentation, as shown in his slides posted by the Japanese Embassy to Austria, he suggested that Higuchi’s actions provide evidence for Japan’s official policy of racial harmony.Footnote 160
In this context, Lieutenant General Higuchi, akin to the consul Sugihara before him, emerged as a boon for right-wing revisionists. Initially, his path to post-war heroism seemed less likely than Sugihara’s, as Mikio Ezaki, the director of the Kiichiro Higuchi Memorial Museum, candidly notes: ‘because Higuchi was a military man, it was historically difficult for his achievements to be honestly evaluated since soldiers were synonymous to evil’.Footnote 161 Yet, as the sole individual purportedly involved in a significant act of humanitarianism during that period, Higuchi holds an undeniable advantage over Sugihara precisely because of his military background and his connections with Japan’s wartime leadership. Equally significant, and unlike Sugihara, Higuchi never claimed to have defied orders while aiding Jews. On the contrary, he acted with the explicit consent of his superiors, most notably General Tōjō, with the only recorded protest to his actions allegedly coming from Nazi Germany. Furthermore, unlike other military figures associated with Jewish affairs, such as Yasue and Inuzuka, Higuchi did not leave behind a body of antisemitic publications. Thus, the current celebration of Higuchi and the enthusiasm for his story seem to be both intentional and meticulously planned, portraying his humanitarian efforts as influenced by his role within the Japanese military structure and as reflecting his entire cohort and service.Footnote 162
All in all, the commemoration of Higuchi in contemporary Japan operates on two fronts. Domestically, it serves as a convenient diversion, enabling ordinary Japanese to identify with a wartime humanitarian compatriot and take pride in him, while engaging with the suffering of a distant Other, even as they avoided a full acknowledgment of their own historical misdeeds in Asia. Internationally, right-wing activists and, to some extent also, official Japan have increasingly leveraged Higuchi’s memory to enhance Japan’s wartime image and, by extension, its present image and soft power as well. By highlighting the benevolence that Higuchi and a few others extended to Jewish refugees, contemporary Japan can sidestep and potentially neutralize criticism from its Asian neighbours regarding colonial exploitation and wartime atrocities.
Conclusion: A wishful saviour and its current usage
The story of Lieutenant General Higuchi’s rescue of 20,000 Jewish refugees at the ‘Otpor Incident’ is a myth; it never occurred. At best, it is a gross exaggeration of a minor event. Dr Abraham Kaufman’s post-war testimony is unequivocal, refuting any possibility that this event occurred. However, if other obscure testimonies are to be believed, this army officer might have facilitated the entry of 18 refugees into Manchukuo, none of whom were under an imminent threat to their lives. Based on all testimonies, this article conclusively demonstrates the implausibility the ‘Otpor Incident’ ever occurring, especially not in the way it is currently portrayed or even in a significantly diminished form. It suggests that those who initially propagated the story, starting with Higuchi himself, were aware of its falsehood. Against this backdrop, it is striking that the most significant discrepancy in Lieutenant General Higuchi’s legend lies between the harsh realities faced by the Jewish community in Harbin under Japanese rule and this fabricated tale of rescue. This glaring gap fails to account for why professional historians perpetuated this excessively dramatized and exaggerated anecdote without any substantive evidence whatsoever.
The problem with Higuchi’s remarkable rise to fame goes beyond the absence of substantial evidence or the use of inflated numbers. It concerns the deliberate exploitation of the Holocaust suffering by nationalist circles in contemporary Japan. For those who laud this late officer, putting him on a pedestal is tantamount to purging wartime Japan of its legacy of aggression and colonialism. Hence, the newfound veneration of Higuchi sheds light on the values and narratives that prevail within specific segments of contemporary Japanese society. The recent inclination to highlight instances of wartime benevolence by Japanese military figures as a means to offset accounts of wartime atrocities and colonial abuses might have been persuasive if there were verifiable humanitarian examples to reference. Yet, such instances are notably rare and, as demonstrated in this article, Higuchi fails to qualify. While he was not malevolent, describing him as a humanitarian stretches the truth. Over the past three decades, nationalist groups within Japan have attempted to deflect criticism of wartime actions through denial and the elevation of supposed benevolent heroes. Eighty years after the war’s end, it may be time to confront the past with transparency and integrity.
Acknowledgements
The authors thank Maruyama Naoki, Danny Orbach, and Mark Schreiber for their assistance and advice in writing this article, and Joel Zisenwine, director of the Department of Righteous Among the Nations at Yad Vashem, for his help in locating relevant documents.
Funding statement
The first author’s research was supported by the Israel Science Foundation (ISF 516/17).
Competing interests
The authors declare none.