Sunday, October 3, 2010

Former sex slave cries out for justice - thestar.com

 

The war ended 65 years ago, but the trauma of the atrocities she endured as a sex slave at the hands of Japanese soldiers is still clearly etched on Won Ok Gil’s face, and burns deep in her heart.

Born in what is now North Korea, Gil was only 13 when she was lured from her village by the promise of factory work, only to be beaten and gang raped by Japanese soldiers.

When she developed a sexually transmitted disease, a doctor removed her ovaries, so she could not get pregnant, and put her to work as a sex slave. She was later transported to China and forced to work as a “comfort woman” in a military brothel.

Settling in South Korea after the war, Gil took all sorts of jobs to survive. In 1998 she decided to break her silence and now travels around the world seeking justice for the tens of thousands of women conscripted, coerced or kidnapped by the Japanese to work as sex slaves during the war.

She also wants an apology from the Japanese government, but at 83 fears time is running out. Many of her fellow victims have already passed on and the diminishing voices of the survivors have been forgotten, she fears.

“I only have one wish. That the Japanese government admit that they have committed these crimes so that the world will be in peace,” Gil told delegates to the International Conference for Educators on the History of World War II in Asia on Saturday in Toronto. “That’s the one wish I have. To hear a sincere apology from the Japanese government to me, and that they ask for forgiveness.”

The first Japanese “comfort stations” were set up in Shanghai in 1932. As Japan continued its military expansion in Asia, it found itself short of Japanese prostitutes so the military turned to the local population for women.

The United Nations estimates that some 200,000 women worked in these military brothels. Chinese scholars put the number at double that, saying the UN figures don’t take into account the approximately 200,000 women pressed into sex service during Japan’s occupation of China.

While Canada, the U.S. and the European Parliament have all passed resolutions condemning the treatment of these women, Japan has not. Japanese scholars put the number at less than 20,000 and some argue the women worked voluntarily as prostitutes, the conference heard.

“As recently as 2007 the then-Japanese prime minister denied that any women were force to be sex slaves,” said Joseph Wong, founder of The Association for Learning and Preserving the History of World War II in Asia. “According to the prime minister, these ‘comfort women’ voluntarily worked as prostitutes and were better paid then the soldiers.”

Those remarks were roundly condemned around the world, but Japan has yet to acknowledge that it systemically pressed women into becoming prostitutes during the war, Wong told the conference, held at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education.

“Japan’s attitude has been very wishy washy in that the prime minister told a group of reporters that Japanese government and military had no involvement in the sexual slavery issue,” Wong said.

Gil was in Toronto to say that is bald-faced lie.

She urged the educators who heard her speak to take the message back to their classrooms and spread the word about what really happened to women like her.

And she’s still waiting for her apology.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

AS I GET OLDER I DON’T UNDERSTAND

As I get older I don’t understand
Children spending summer indoors
Texting and playing video games
And downloading iTunes

As I get older I don’t understand
The rising cost of the essentials
Food, shelter and clothing
And lack of health care provided for everyone

As I get older I don’t understand
The lack of manners and courtesy
Loyalty, camaraderie, chivalry
And the lack of respect for human dignity

As I get older I don’t understand
The violence in movies and video games
In music and books and magazines
And the bloody carnage in our city streets

As I get older I don’t understand
The lack of trust and faith
And love and peace and freedom
Of speech becoming a licence to be hateful

As I get older I don’t understand
How fast life slips by
How little we have loved
How little we have made a difference

September 19, 2010
Nick van Heeren

Thursday, September 16, 2010

THE TEA SHOP


The girl in the tea shop
Is not so beautiful as she was,
The August has worn against her.
She does not get up the stairs so eagerly;
Yes, she also will turn middle-aged,
And the glow of youth that she spread about us
As she brought us our muffins
Will be spread about us no longer.
She also will turn middle-aged.

THE UNKNOWN CITIZEN



by W. H. Auden


(To JS/07 M 378
This Marble Monument
Is Erected by the State)
He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be
One against whom there was no official complaint,
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a
saint,
For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
Except for the War till the day he retired
He worked in a factory and never got fired,
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn't a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Instalment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into Public Opinion are content
That he held the proper opinions for the time of year;
When there was peace, he was for peace: when there was war, he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his
generation.
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their
education.
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

I'M GETTING OLD

    I'm getting old. I feel it coming on. Not just in my body which is slowly breaking down and deteriorating. But I also feel it inside. I'm getting old. I feel it coming on.

    I'm getting old. I feel it coming on. Not just in my mind with loss of memory and forgetting of names. But I also feel it in my spirit. I'm getting old. I feel it coming on.

    I'm getting old. I feel it coming on. Not just in my reminiscing or longing for the good old days. But I feel it in my loss of hope. I'm getting old. I feel it coming on.

    I'm getting old. I feel it coming on. Not just in my lack of patience or love or desire for goodness. But I feel it in my heart. I'm getting old. I feel it coming on.

    I'm getting old. I feel it coming on. Not just in the graying of hair and obesity of weight. But I feel it in my being. I'm getting old. I feel it coming on.

    At what point in time do hope and despair and energy and fatigue blend and become one? At what point in time does compromising and being stagnant and cold become the standard of normalcy? At what point in time does promise become loss of opportunity? Faith becomes disillusionment. Trust becomes wariness.

I'm getting old. I feel it coming on.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

FIRING RANGE


My experience with firearms is really limited. When I was a kid my neighbours had BB guns and let me shoot them off from time to time. Our targets were mainly street lights, snakes and a new house that was built in the middle of our sandlot baseball field.

I remember my friend Carl aiming at a bird flying by and pulling the trigger and actually hitting the poor thing in mid-air. It fell like a stone to the ground dead. We looked at each other so surprised that the robin was dead. Then his old aunt, Edna, from across the street started yelling and screaming that we were murderers and should be ashamed of ourselves. We responded by running away as fast as we could!

A couple of years ago I had a problem with my computer's motherboard. I phoned up a friend of mine, Richard, who was a programmer and knew how to work on computers as well to make an appointment for him to look at it.

He took my computer apart, showed me how it had been poorly designed and why my motherboard had fried. He then said for me to come along with him for a car ride.

We went downtown and parked in a seedy little alley that runs adjacent to our main street. We got out of his vehicle and walked through a door and then went down a flight or two of stairs. It was dark and damp. I had never been told of this subterranean area that was right below our downtown district.

We then entered through a set of heavy doors, possibly of steel, and walked into a firing range. Richard opened up the case he was carrying and pulled out a gun. He explained that it was a German luger from World War Two. He loaded it, described how it worked, and let me take aim at some targets at the far end of the gallery.

I was not a very good shot. But I also felt sick inside. If this was a real German Luger I wondered if it had seen any action. How many Nazis or German people had used this gun to blow out the brains of precious Jewish citizens?

I knew that Richard could sense how uncomfortable I was shooting a gun. He didn't press me to take another round when the gun was emptied. We left shortly after and he never asked me back there again. I am not disappointed.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

TINY RIPPLE OF HOPE


When I was a youngster my heroes were athletes such as Mickey Mantle or Johnny Bower. As a Christian my ultimate hero would of course be Jesus. Another hero of mine is Robert Kennedy, the younger brother of the assassinated John F. Kennedy.

A couple of years ago I filled in as an interim pastor at an Evangelical Covenant Church in Buffalo, NY. I have listened to my sermons online but the one that I felt was my best effort dealt briefly with the life of RFK.

For the next little while I am going to have a bit to say about RFK but I am going to start off with a quote from what is regarded as his most famous speech. It was delivered in Capetown, South Africa in 1966.

It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.

This has been an immense week of spiritual stress and emotional fatigue. This quote has set me back on course.