Doihara in a press photo in Tokyo during 1936, by then a Lt. General
With the Japanese
samurai all means are permissible as long as they lead to the end in view. To
them it is smart to lie, to cheat, to deceive, to intrigue, to be double-faced,
hypocritical, provided it pays or brings power. It is in their nature to be
false.
Amleto Vespa – former
secret agent for Japan
In 1853 the United States sent four warships under Commodore
Matthew Perry to barge open trade relations with Japan. The Japanese stalled
and so Perry returned to Tokyo Bay a year later with more ships and hinted at
war if an agreement was not reached. For centuries Japan had isolated itself
from the world and until the coming of Perry it existed in an introspective, feudal
cocoon. No one was allowed to leave Japan and no one could visit, with few
exceptions. Perry’s arrival changed everything and Japan soon embraced the
modern, industrial era, with Western experts advising on everything from postal
systems to army reform.
The arrival of so many foreigners caused a schism in
Japanese society that affected political life. Although Japan was nominally
ruled by an emperor, since the 1600s military dictators known as shoguns had
run the country. After several revolts, in 1868 imperial power was restored to
the young Emperor Meiji (1852–1912), who passed a series of laws heralding a
policy of Westernization and tolerance to foreigners.
While Japan eagerly embraced everything the West had to
offer, few Westerners realized the bitterness felt by many Japanese toward
foreigners. A philosophy known as Hakko Ichiu (Eight Corners of the World under
One Rule) took hold of Japan, which preached a doctrine of racial superiority
and the divine right of the Japanese people to do pretty much as they pleased.
Japan was said to be at the centre of the world and the tenno (emperor) was a
divine being directly descended from the Goddess of the Sun. The Japanese
people, furthermore, were protected by their gods and were thus superior to all
others. The Hakko Ichiu also had a profound impact on foreign policy, Japan
having been given a divine mission to bring all nations under the beneficial
rule of the tenno.
To realize these divinely inspired ambitions, Japan needed a
modern espionage system. Adopting the German model, Japanese officials were
sent to study under Wilhelm Stieber in the mid-1870s. Over the next decade
Japan built up separate army and naval intelligence services, each with an
accompanying branch of secret military police (Kempeitai for the army and
Tokeitai for the navy). These latter organizations also provided an excellent
counter-espionage service. However, where the Japanese were unique was in the
use of spies belonging to unofficial secret societies working alongside or
independently of the official intelligence agencies. These shadowy institutions
were ultra-nationalist by nature, drawing their membership from a cross-section
of Japanese society, including the military, politics, industry and Yakuza
underworld. Under ruthless leadership, their henchmen would spy on, subvert and
corrupt Japan’s Far East neighbours.
Perhaps the biggest losers in the Meiji Restoration were
samurai warriors – the knights of the shogunate era. As Japan modernized and
built an army based on universal conscription, the samurai found themselves an
unwanted anachronism – even banned from publicly carrying their swords. Known
as ronin, masterless samurai gravitated towards new urban centres where,
unwilling to give up their martial way of life, they turned to crime. Realizing
their potential, gang leader Mitsuru Toyama (1855–1944) organized the ronin
into an effective force of hired muscle specializing in strikebreaking and
assassination. Demand for Toyama’s services saw doors opened for him to the
highest levels of society. Soon he was one of the most influential figures in
the ultra-nationalist underworld, known to many by the sinister appellation
‘Darkside Emperor’ or ‘Shadow Shogun’.
An exponent of Japanese expansion, Toyama became the guiding
hand of the Genyosha or Dark Ocean Society formed in 1881 by Kotaro Hiraoka – a
rich samurai mine owner with an eye on business opportunities in Manchuria. To
collect intelligence on the region and its Triad gangs, Toyama dispatched a
hundred Genyosha agents to China. The most effective front for their espionage
operations came through activities in the vice trade, with the Genyosha setting
up bordellos in Hankow, Shanghai, Tientsin, Pusan and Russian-controlled
Central Asia. The most noted of these was the ‘Hall of Pleasurable Delights’ at
Hankow. Based on Stieber’s ‘The Green House’, this brothel was extremely
popular among Chinese politicians and Triad bosses. While providing a safe
house for Japanese spies, it brought in funds for the Genyosha’s clandestine
activities and provided ample means to blackmail clients or find potential
allies among the growing number of Chinese revolutionaries.
The name ‘Dark Ocean’ referred to the genkai nada – the
stretch of water between Japan and Korea, hinting at the location of the group’s
first major operation. The close proximity of the Korean peninsula to the
Japanese islands gave it considerable strategic value as a springboard into
East Asia and as a defensive buffer against China and Russia. At the behest of
the minister of war, Soroku Kawakami, Toyama and another leading Genyosha
member, Ryohei Uchida, set up the Tenyukyo, a group of 15 hand-picked agent
provocateurs sent into Korea as agitators.
Once inside the country the Tenyukyo established contact
with the Tonghaks, a radical Korean terrorist group. Together they waged such a
campaign of terror that the Korean emperor was compelled to ask China for help.
As obliging Chinese troops gathered on the border, Japanese hawks were
presented with the excuse they had been hoping for. After condemnation of
China’s ‘aggressive’ intervention (the Chinese had not actually entered Korea
yet), Japanese troops were landed and, claiming to be acting in defence of
Korean sovereignty, they seized the royal palace in Seoul on 23 July 1894. The
ensuing conflict, which was declared a few days later on 1 August, saw a quick
succession of Japanese victories against the Chinese on land and sea, leaving
part of Manchuria and the island of Formosa (Taiwan) in Japanese hands.
Despite the victory, war had stretched Japan’s resources to
the limit and rival nations were quick to detect the scent of vulnerability.
Pressure from France, Germany and in particular Russia obliged Japan to give up
its mainland gains in China. Russia formed an alliance with China against Japan
in 1896, which gave it important strategic gains including the lease of Port
Arthur (1898) and rights to extend the Trans-Siberian Railroad across Manchuria
to the Russian seaport of Vladivostok.
It was clear to the Genyosha leadership that this growing
Russian influence would have to be checked. However, after the Korean episode,
the society’s activities had come to the attention of headline writers. The
unwanted publicity increased after Toyama’s disciples assassinated the Korean
princess Bin and terrorized the Korean emperor into seeking refuge in Russia.
Its high profile made the Genyosha unsuitable for conducting further secret
operations, so in 1898 the group dissolved. Toyama instead formed the East Asia
One Culture Society, a pan-Asian group with the ambition of formulating a
common system of writing in the region. To help accomplish this, the group
formed the Tung Wen College in Shanghai. Still operational in 1945, the Tung
Wen College had thousands of graduates working from India to the Philippines.
Of course the whole project was a sham front for espionage operations – the
Chinese always referred to the Tung Wen as ‘the Japanese Spy School’.
In 1901, under Toyama’s direction, his Black Ocean comrade
Ryohei Uchida formed the Kokuryu-kai, or Black Dragon Society. Like the
Genyosha before it, the clue to the group’s ambitions lay in its name, which
really implied ‘Beyond the Amur River’, the river separating northern Manchuria
and Siberia. In Chinese the Amur translates to Black Dragon River, hence the
origin of the society’s most common name.
Initially the group recruited its soshi (lit. brave knights)
from patriotic ronin and avoided the criminal types increasingly predominant in
the Genyosha. As word of their activities spread, other crusaders for the
Japanese imperial cause sought membership. Although the society quickly boasted
members in upper governmental and military circles, the group was not always in
line with government policy, nor did it receive official sanction.
As war with Russia approached, the group successfully
lobbied for the appointment of Colonel Motojiro Akashi as military attaché to
St Petersburg. Akashi was an excellent intelligence officer sympathetic to the
Black Dragons’ aims. He had previously served as military attaché at Japanese
embassies in Sweden, France and Switzerland. In these posts he established that
Western Europe would not come to the aid of tsarist Russia if it were attacked
by Japan.
While fulfilling his duties, Akashi made secret contact with
anti-tsarist revolutionary cells inside Russia and around Europe. In return for
financial aid, these groups provided Akashi with intelligence on the Russian
military and secret services. He also made contact with Abdur Rashid Ibrahim, a
Tartar Muslim who provided important information on the Russian fleet at Port
Arthur. More intelligence came out of Port Arthur from the British agent Sidney
Reilly who had met Akashi in St Petersburg. Reilly had set up a sham company in
Port Arthur to provide him with a cover story while he spied on Russian
defences for Akashi.
In addition to Akashi’s work, Japanese spies posing as
coolies and dockworkers infiltrated Russian bases in Manchuria. The Black
Dragons were at the forefront of these actions. They sent agents into Manchuria
and Siberia – and even opened a ju-jitsu school in Vladivostok to provide a
front for their operations against the Russians. They observed troop and naval
movements, building up detailed information on the Russian order of battle and
logistics. They also had an agent in the north of Manchuria, Hajime Hamamoto,
who ran a general store near to a Russian army base. By seducing wives of
Russian officers, Hamamoto was able to glean important information from them,
which was passed on to Military Intelligence in Japan via an agent in
Vladivostok.
These secret operations gave Japan a major advantage in the
war, which began on 8 February 1904 with a Japanese surprise attack on Port
Arthur, two days before a formal declaration of war was made. Moving to
Stockholm, Akashi stretched Russian resources, stirring up Russian and Finnish
revolutionaries. On a more practical level, Black Dragon agents acted as
interpreters and guides for the Japanese army, organizing guerrilla operations
with allied Manchurian warlords such as Marshal Chang Tso-lin.
Japan slowly wore down the Russian opposition, capturing
Port Arthur and Mukden (now Shenyang). The Russians were finally forced to
agree terms with Japan after its fleet was smashed at the battle of Tsushima
(27–29 May 1905). A conference was held in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, resulting
in Japan gaining control of Port Arthur and the South Manchurian railroad.
Russia evacuated southern Manchuria, which was restored to China, and Japan’s
dominance of Korea was recognized.
With Russia out of the way, the Black Dragons turned their
focus to China. Having met the revolutionaries Sun Yat-sen (1866–1925) and
Chiang Kai-shek (1887–1975) in Tokyo during 1905, the Black Dragons subsidized
the 1911 overthrow of the Manchu Dynasty, which made China a republic. However,
this assistance was given only to destabilize China and facilitate Japan’s
seizure of Manchuria – a long-term ambition of the Black Dragons.
The hunt began for a stooge in whose name the seizure of
Manchuria would be justified and world opinion placated. One candidate had been
identified by the Black Dragon Naniwa Kawashima, an old samurai and veteran of
the Russo-Japanese war. After the war Kawashima found himself chief of police
in the Japanese section of Peking. In the course of his duties he befriended
his opposite number, Prince Su Chin Wang, head of Peking’s Chinese police
force. Prince Su was one of eight princes of the Iron Helmet, traditionally the
emperor’s closest companions, which in Kawashima’s opinion gave him the right
pedigree. Prince Su agreed to the plan, but it did not receive support from the
Japanese government and floundered, much to the Black Dragons’ disappointment.
Su went on to form an anti-Republican army in the northeast together with the
Mongol general Babojab. When this army was defeated, Su retired to Port Arthur
where he died in April 1922. The search for a suitable puppet shifted from Su
to the deposed Chinese emperor.
Pu Yi (1906–67), the last emperor of the Qing Dynasty, had
ascended to the throne in 1908 before his third birthday. Since 1925 Pu Yi had
lived in a villa – the Chang, or Quiet, Garden – inside the Japanese concession
of Tientsin, where he enjoyed a playboy lifestyle with his increasingly
opium-addicted wife ‘Elizabeth’ Wan Jung. Faced with the crippling cost of
maintaining his royal trappings, Pu Yi was desperate to regain the throne and
hoped he might find support among the Black Dragons. He was well informed of their
activities, recording in his memoirs how the society had taken hold in China:
[It] started out with
bases in Foochow, Yentai (Chefoo) and Shanghai and operated under such covers
as consulates, schools and photographers … its membership was said to have
reached several hundred thousand with correspondingly huge funds. Toyama
Mitsuru was the most famous of its leaders and under his direction its members
had penetrated every stratum of Chinese society. At the side of Ching nobles
and high officials and among peddlers and servants, including the attendants in
the Chang Garden. Many Japanese personalities were disciples of Toyama’s.
Pu Yi agreed to discuss his restoration with a Black Dragon
agent named Tsukuda Nobuo. However, because the Black Dragons’ policy was not
shared by the Japanese government, when Nobuo learned the local Japanese consul
had also been invited to the interview, he pulled out and promptly disappeared.
Puzzled at the agent’s behaviour, Pu Yi sent his advisor and tutor, Chang
Hsiao-hsu, to Japan to make contact with the Black Dragons directly.
In the meantime, plans were set to seize Manchuria and its
vast, unexploited resources. Since the war with Russia, Japan controlled the
South Manchurian Railway, which it protected with a body of troops known as the
Kwantung Army based in the Japanese concession at Mukden. Before Manchuria
could be seized the powerful Manchurian warlord Marshal Chang Tso-lin had to be
eliminated. A former Japanese ally in the war against Russia, the marshal opposed
the growing Japanese influence in the region. In 1928 the Japanese assassinated
the marshal by bombing his train, leaving Manchuria ripe for the taking. The
following year intelligence specialist Colonel Seishiro Itagaki was posted to
the Kwantung Army to make the final plans for the seizure of Manchuria. His
plan was a masterpiece of ruse and treachery.
On the evening of 18 September 1931, Japanese sappers
secretly planted explosives near to the track of the South Manchurian Railway.
The objective was not to destroy the tracks, but to give the impression that
Chinese saboteurs had attempted to derail a passing train. The Japanese quickly
condemned the ‘attack’ and launched a ‘retaliatory’ attack against the Chinese
in Mukden. To ensure a successful outcome, two heavy-calibre guns had been
hidden in a ‘swimming pool’ constructed at the Japanese officers’ club. One gun
was trained on the Chinese constabulary barracks, the other at the air force
base at Mukden airport. When news of the ‘attack’ on the railway reached the
Japanese garrison, the guns opened fire on the sleeping Chinese. It was a
massacre.
News of the ‘battle’ quickly travelled to Port Arthur, where
Lieutenant-General Honjo ordered an all-out attack by the 20,000-strong
Kwantung Army. In a feat of unparalleled military efficiency, Honjo’s men were
already mobilized before his orders arrived. The rival Chinese troops were
caught on the back foot and, under general orders not to engage Japanese
forces, were pushed back to the Sungari River. This attack left most of
southern Manchuria in Japanese hands for the loss of just two men.
The outside world condemned the ‘Mukden Incident’ as a
blatant case of Japanese aggression. However, Pu Yi saw it as an opportunity to
take up the throne of his native Manchuria. Eight days after the incident,
Colonel Itagaki arrived in Tientsin and offered Pu Yi the throne. To his
surprise, the former emperor’s advisors urged caution, suspicious that a ‘mere
colonel’ was making the offer rather than Japanese politicians. Pausing for
thought, Pu Yi wrote to Toyama asking him to clarify the situation.
Three weeks later, Pu Yi was introduced to a senior member
of the Kwantung Army, Colonel Kenji Doihara (1883–1948). Another of Toyama’s
acolytes, Doihara was an intelligence officer and had been active in northern
China and Siberia for some considerable time. Even among the pantheon of
villains that were his contemporaries, Doihara stands out as a particularly
loathsome individual. His rise to infamy began with tricking his 15-year-old
sister into posing nude for some photographs. Armed with the developed
pictures, the loving brother touted them to a Japanese imperial prince who was
so impressed he made her his number one concubine. In return for this favour,
Doihara was posted as an assistant to General Honjo, military attaché to
Peking.
Doihara must not be dismissed as a simple thug. He had a
deserved reputation as a linguist, claiming to speak nine European languages
and four Chinese dialects faultlessly. He enjoyed the attention of Western
journalists who dubbed him the ‘Lawrence of the East’ for the way he adopted
Chinese costume on his many travels round the country recruiting spies and
seeking out potential allies. In 1928 he became military advisor to Marshal
Chang and was almost certainly involved in his assassination, after which he
was promoted to colonel. In 1931 Doihara was head of the Japanese Special
Service Organ in Mukden and was declared mayor of the city after the attack on
19 September.
Doihara arrived at the Quiet Garden villa and offered Pu Yi
the throne of Manchuria. Pu Yi knew that Doihara was a ‘disciple’ of Toyama and
recorded his opinion of the colonel in his memoirs. Although at first taken in
by him, Pu Yi came to realize – too late – the full depth of Doihara’s
mendacity:
Because of the
mysterious stories that were told about him the Western press described him as
the ‘Lawrence of the East’ and the Chinese papers said that he usually wore
Chinese clothes and was fluent in several Chinese dialects. But it seems to me
that if all his activities were like persuading me to go to the Northeast
[Manchuria] he would have had no need for the cunning and ingenuity of a
Lawrence: the gambler’s ability to keep a straight face while lying would have
been enough.
Doihara asked Pu Yi to travel to Mukden from where he would
be placed on the Manchu throne. His sovereignty would be guaranteed by the
Kwantung Army, which of course said it had no territorial ambitions in
Manchuria. Eager for power, Pu Yi agreed in principle, but sought assurances
from Doihara that he would not be merely a Japanese puppet. Doihara assured,
but still Pu Yi dithered. It appeared that the empress did not trust the
Japanese and would not agree to leave Tientsin. Frustrated, Doihara needed help
and so called on Itagaki for advice. The author of the Mukden Incident answered
Doihara’s call by playing the joker in the Japanese pack – the Manchu-born
agent known as ‘Eastern Jewel’.
The daughter of the pro-Japanese prince Su Chin Wang,
Eastern Jewel was born in 1907. In 1913 she was given to the Black Dragon
Naniwa Kawashima for adoption as a mark of friendship between the two men.
Arriving in Japan, she was renamed Yoshiko Kawashima and educated at the
Matsumato school for girls. She was a thrill seeker and tomboy, with a
voracious sexual appetite which she claimed was awakened by her adoptive
grandfather at 15. After a string of affairs, an arranged marriage was set up
for the 21-year-old Eastern Jewel with the Mongol prince Kanjurjab, son of her
biological father’s ally, General Babob.
The marriage – which took place in Port Arthur during
November of 1927 – was seen as a means of cementing influence in Mongolia,
where Japan held territorial ambitions. However, Eastern Jewel claimed that the
marriage was never consummated and she quickly ditched the prince. She plunged
headlong into the depths of Tokyo’s wild, bohemian underbelly. Outgrowing her
adopted land, she travelled widely and even turned up as a houseguest of Pu Yi
and the empress at Tientsin in 1928. With similar family backgrounds, Elizabeth
and Eastern Jewel struck up an improbable relationship, the closeted empress in
turns captivated by and envious of Eastern Jewel’s lurid and exotic exploits.
Eastern Jewel was in seedy Shanghai, having just walked out
on a Japanese politician who had run out of money. On the prowl for a new
sponsor she daringly set her sights on Major Tanaka, the head of the Shanghai
secret service – or Special Service Organ. Attending a New Year party she
ushered Tanaka to a discreet location and attempted to seduce him. Tanaka
resisted the advances of the Manchu princess, explaining that it would be
disrespectful for him – a commoner – to take her to bed. Eastern Jewel was not
so easily deterred and dishonoured herself by borrowing money from Tanaka,
finally breaking his resistance through a shared fetish for leather boots.
Tanaka was impressed by Eastern Jewel’s forward manner and put her on the
secret service payroll to fund her whims. Tanaka also paid for her English lessons,
believing she might one day prove useful as a spy.
Returning to the matter of Pu Yi and the throne, Itagaki
sent a telegram to Shanghai ordering Tanaka to report to Mukden. Fearful of
being disgraced for lavishing official funds on his mistress, Tanaka left for
Mukden on 1 October 1931. At the subsequent interview Itagaki revealed Doihara
had been sent to get Pu Yi and that the Japanese forces were planning the next
stage of their advance into Manchuria with the capture of Harbin. Tanaka was
charged with keeping the League of Nations’ attention fixed away from Manchuria
by provoking a disturbance in Shanghai. Tanaka told Itagaki he had the perfect
agent in mind and was surprised – not to mention worried – when Itagaki said he
knew all about Eastern Jewel. He then revealed the trouble Doihara was having
with the implacable Elizabeth and mentioned he might need to borrow Eastern
Jewel. Itagaki gave Tanaka $10,000, which he used to clear Eastern Jewel’s
debts and begin the preparations for his Shanghai diversion.
Subsequent to this interview, Doihara wired Shanghai for
Eastern Jewel. Calling in a favour from a pilot boyfriend, she flew to Tientsin
that same evening. Anxious to make a lasting first impression on Doihara,
Eastern Jewel disguised herself in the robes of a Chinese gentleman. She
arrived and immediately caused a stir by refusing to divulge her name to the
desk sergeant at Doihara’s headquarters. Suspecting treachery was afoot,
Doihara placed a revolver on his desk and opened the inquisition.
‘Your name, please?’ he asked. ‘My name is of no
importance,’ replied Eastern Jewel, ‘I have come to help you.’ ‘You speak like
a eunuch,’ Doihara retorted. ‘Are you one of Pu Yi’s men?’ Eastern Jewel simply
laughed in reply. Doihara grabbed his samurai sword. ‘Very well then, if you
won’t tell me who you are, let us see what you are.’ Drawing the sword, he
began to away cut the ties to her robe. Eastern Jewel did not move, but
continued to stare at Doihara provocatively. Doihara flicked open the robe and
‘with a guttural samurai yell’ cut open the silk scarf she bound her breasts
with. ‘I saw that she was a woman’ Doihara later confessed, ‘so I conducted a
thorough investigation and determined that I had not put even the smallest
scratch on any part of her white skin.’
Next day, Eastern Jewel visited the Quiet Garden and heard
Elizabeth’s views on the proposed move to Mukden. She was able to report to
Doihara that the empress was implacably opposed to any move to Mukden and it
would take extreme measures to convince Pu Yi to travel alone. Growing
impatient, Doihara resorted to terror tactics. He told Pu Yi that a price had
been put on his head by Chang Hsueh-liang, the son of the murdered Marshal
Chang. To lend credence to Doihara’s warnings, Eastern Jewel placed some snakes
in Pu Yi’s bed. On 8 November bombs were hidden in a basket of fruit delivered
anonymously to the Quiet Garden. Pu Yi recalled: ‘an assistant came running
into the room shouting “bombs, two bombs”. I was sitting in an armchair and
this news gave me such a fright that I was incapable of standing up.’ Eastern
Jewel called the Japanese guards who came rushing in led by one of Doihara’s
henchmen. He took the bombs away and then later revealed they had been
manufactured by stooges of the late marshal’s son.
More was to follow. Along with warning letters, Pu Yi
received a telephoned tip-off from ‘a waiter’ at his favourite Victoria Café
that men with concealed weapons had been enquiring after him. Doihara then
arranged for a crowd of Chinese agents to make trouble in the
Chinese-administered part of the city. On 10 November martial law was declared
and Japanese armoured cars surrounded the Quiet Garden to defend Pu Yi, whose
nerve began to crack. Scared out of his wits, Pu Yi at last agreed to go to
Mukden, travelling without the empress on Eastern Jewel’s advice. After dark he
was bundled into the trunk of a car and driven to the docks by his Japanese
interpreter. Elizabeth, meanwhile, was comforted by a heady mix of Eastern
Jewel and opium until reunited with Pu Yi in Port Arthur six weeks later.
Eastern Jewel returned to Shanghai and began preparations
with Tanaka for what became known as the Fake War. She hired gangs of Chinese
street thugs and provided them with lists of Japanese business and residential
addresses to attack. After the attacks began on 18 January 1932, Tanaka stoked
up indignation in the Japanese community. Outraged by two more days of attacks,
an ultimatum was delivered by the Japanese consul general to the Chinese mayor
to stop them. However, with Eastern Jewel controlling the thugs, the Chinese
mayor had little chance of success. In the face of Chinese impotence Admiral
Shiozawa felt justified in landing his Imperial Marines to protect Japanese
nationals. Tanaka’s mission was accomplished.
While engineering the arrival of the Japanese troops,
Eastern Jewel had been busy in her now familiar role of seductress
extraordinaire. The son of the Chinese republican Sun Yat-sen happened to be in
town and soon fell victim to Eastern Jewel, confiding in her the rivalries in
the Chinese camp. She also acted as a weathervane on international reaction to
the Japanese actions. Putting her English lessons to good use, she took a
British military attaché as a lover. From his pillow talk she was able to tell
Tanaka that the West was unlikely to back its vigorous condemnations with any
real action.
After the Shanghai incident, Eastern Jewel took up with a
string of lovers. Her extravagance became so great that Tanaka offloaded her to
Pu Yi’s chief military advisor, Major-General Hayao Tada. She was also indulged
with the command of 5,000 Manchu ‘rough riders’, the captains of which she
selected personally to her own exacting criteria of manhood. During the
Japanese bombing of Shanghai in 1937, Eastern Jewel caused outrage among the
Chinese when she was seen walking through the ruined streets laughing with
Japanese officers. It was rumoured she had even flown over the city in a
bomber. When Peking fell to the Japanese in 1937, Eastern Jewel formed part of
the administration. She abused her power by blackmailing wealthy Chinese with
false accusations of assisting the enemy. Once noted for her beauty, Eastern
Jewel’s debauched lifestyle began to weather her looks, although her libido
remained undiminished. She found it increasingly harder to attract men and had
an actor arrested on trumped-up charges of theft because he spurned her
advances. Instead she increasingly began to explore her fantasies with local
sing-song girls. Even Tanaka was moved to describe her later conduct as ‘beyond
common sense’. At the end of the war Eastern Jewel declined an offer to return
to Japan and went into hiding. Acting on a tip-off, Chiang Kai-shek’s
counter-intelligence officers picked her up in November 1945. On 25 March 1948
Eastern Jewel was led to a wooden block and decapitated by a swordsman.
After the Pu Yi drama, Doihara began recruiting agents in
the newly conquered territories. He broadened the Special Service Organ’s
network of spies throughout southern Manchuria, utilizing large numbers of
Russian refugees who had fled the Soviet Union. Desperate for employment, the
men worked for Doihara as hired thugs, while women filled the brothels.
European women were much in demand and acted as opium peddlers, receiving a
free pipe for every six they sold.
One of Doihara’s converts was Italian-born spy Amleto Vespa,
a one-time agent of Marshal Chang who had since managed a cinema. A fascist
sympathizer and former member of the Mexican Revolutionary Army, Vespa had
travelled extensively, coming to work with Marshal Chang Tso-lin in 1920. To
avoid trouble with the Italian authorities, Vespa had obtained Chinese
citizenship. Because of this, after the Mukden Incident Vespa found himself
under the Japanese yoke without the usual protection afforded to Westerners. He
was forced to work for the Japanese, running the spy service in Harbin until
1936 when he managed to get out of China with his family. Vespa wrote a
remarkable book detailing Japan’s brutal clandestine activities in Manchuria.
He was taken to meet Doihara on 14 February 1932, an encounter described in his
book. Vespa disliked the man intensely:
Foreign journalists
had referred to colonel Doihara as the Japanese ‘Lawrence of Manchuria’. I
suspect, however, that if his sister had not been concubine of a Japanese
Imperial Prince most of his success would have been still in his imagination.
Doihara left Vespa under no illusions about where his future
loyalties belonged. If Vespa disobeyed, Doihara would shoot him. Vespa was told
to return the following day and be introduced to the chief of the Japanese
secret service in Manchuria. Vespa never discovered the true identity of this
man, but many believe he must have been a Japanese prince close to Emperor
Hirohito. The ensuing interview revealed the true extent of Japanese secret
operations in Manchuria. In perfect English the mysterious chief told Vespa:
‘If Colonel Doihara
has told you anything unpleasant, please pay no attention to it. Since, in
other countries, they call him the Japanese Lawrence, he delights in showing
his greatness by his hectoring manner. He has worked under me for many years,
however, and I have no hesitation in saying he is much less of a Lawrence than
he thinks he is.’
With remarkable candour, the chief explained how it was
Japanese policy to make colonies pay for themselves. The Japanese system was to
secretly grant certain monopolies to trusted individuals. Naturally the
monopolies changed hands for enormous sums, in return for which the holder
gained Japanese protection. The principal monopolies were the free
transportation of goods by railway under the guise of Japanese military
supplies; the monopoly of opium smoking dens, the sale of narcotics, poppy
cultivation, the running of gambling houses and the importation of Japanese
prostitutes – 70,000 Korean and Japanese prostitutes were shipped to Manchuria
in the year after the Mukden Incident.
Although very strict on drug abuse at home, the Japanese
flooded Manchuria with narcotics. Throughout the 1930s Manchurian streets were
littered with wasted addicts and the corpses of emaciated overdose victims. To
meet the demand, soya-bean farms were turned over to poppy production and
drug-processing plants were set up along with ‘shooting-galleries’ for those
too poor to enjoy the comforts of an opium den. Vespa revealed:
In Mukden, in Harbin, in Kirin etc., one cannot find a
street where there are no opium-smoking dens or narcotic shops. In many streets
the Japanese and Korean dealers have established a very simple and effective
system. The morphine, cocaine or heroin addict does not have to enter the place
if he is poor. He simply knocks at the door, a small peep-hole opens, though
which he thrusts his bare arm and hand with 20 cents in it. The owner of the
joint takes the money and gives the victim a shot in the arm.
The Japanese didn’t need bullets to kill Chinese; the drugs
would do it for them – and at a profit.
By 1938 Doihara was the commander of the Kwantung Army.
Based in Shanghai he successfully penetrated Chang Kai-shek’s headquarters with
spies. Operating under the pseudonym of ‘Ito Soma’ and posing as a Japanese
financier, Doihara managed to befriend the republican leader’s personal
assistant, Huang-sen. His hook, improbable as it may sound, was a shared passion
for goldfish, Doihara being an authority on the subject. In return for
information and the procurement of rare goldfish, Huang-sen spied for Doihara.
His information was used to foil a Chinese plan to attack Japanese shipping in
the Yangtse River. The failure of the plan led to an investigation, after which
Huang-sen was exposed and executed by the republicans. A follow-up
investigation led in 1938 to the execution of eight Chinese divisional
commanders, all of whom were found working for Doihara.
Later, as an air force major-general, Doihara sat on Prime
Minister Hideki Tojo’s Supreme War Council. Doihara was present at the session
of 4 November 1941 when the attack on Pearl Harbor was decided. He went on to
command the army in Singapore (1944–45) and ran brutal POW and internee camps
in Malaya, Sumatra, Java and Borneo. Doihara was tried at the Tokyo war crimes
trial and executed on 23 December 1948 by hanging. He was joined by Seishiro
Itagaki, the author of the Mukden Incident, and Prime Minister Tojo, the former
Kwantung Army leader. Eastern Jewel’s case officer, Tanaka, was more fortunate,
surviving to tell the tale. Having opposed the decision to attack America, he
retired in 1942. After the war he was an aide to the tribunal’s chief American prosecutor,
Joseph Keenan. Tanaka claimed he even procured girls for the American.
As for the Black Dragons, their reputation as sinister
arch-plotters meant that they were not ignored in the round-up of war criminals
in 1945. General MacArthur banned the group on 13 September 1945 and ordered
the arrest of seven leadership figures. He need not have bothered. Of the
seven, two had never been members, a third had died of old age in 1938, while a
fourth had committed suicide in 1943. The other three suspects had once been
members but had renounced their membership long before.
In truth the Black Dragons had long since fallen out of
favour and had ceased to be a force in Japan. Their last public meeting was
held in October 1935 when Toyama protested at Mussolini’s invasion of Ethiopia
– another episode of white aggression against men of colour, as he saw it. The
Japanese police used the meeting as a pretext for a crackdown on the Black
Dragons and thereafter the society dwindled to a handful of forgotten diehards
working out of a dingy, backstreet Tokyo office.
While Toyama and his disciples continued to view Russia as
the main enemy, a new group rose to prominence – the Strike South faction. This
group called for expansion into Southeast Asia and Indonesia, rich areas
abundant in the resources Japan was lacking. After an undeclared border war
with Russia, which culminated in Japan’s defeat at the battle of Khalkhin Gol
in August 1939, Tokyo began to favour the new option. There was just a one
slight problem with their plan. If a strike south occurred, Japan would
inevitably clash with Western interests, particularly those of the British
Empire and the United States of America.
