Does Berlin need a sex slave statue?

In February 2020, when Nataly Jung-Hwa Han, chair of Berlin’s Korea Society, was granted a one-year permit to install a bronze statue of a “comfort woman” — a euphemism for second world war-era sex slaves to the Japanese army — it seemed like a good fit for the city.

The German capital blends its multi-kulti present seamlessly with its nightmare past. A remnant of the Berlin Wall, where Germans once shot Germans trying to escape from Germany to Germany, is now the East Side Gallery, a mile-long stretch of brightly painted murals. City sidewalks glint with an estimated 9,000 Stolpersteine, or “stumbling stones”, small brass plaques placed in front of former residences of Holocaust victims. A statue of a “comfort woman”, so Han assumed, provided an opportunity to enhance diversity, condemn atrocity and bring a bit of gender balance to a male-dominated commemorative landscape.

Han was given approval to install the statue for one year, from August 2020 to July 2021, on the corner of Bremer Street and Birken Street, in the leafy neighbourhood of Moabit. The local mayor, Stephan von Dassel, even agreed to hold a speech at the unveiling, Han told me. Von Dassel, a member of the progressive Green party, rides a bicycle and regularly tweets his social conscience. Han was therefore surprised when he cancelled his attendance at the last minute. Another local official also declined, citing illness.

Nevertheless, on Monday September 28, a large crowd, mostly women from the city’s large Asian community, including — in Han’s words — a handful of Biodeutsche, or “biological Germans”, assembled on the corner in Moabit. A purple drape was whisked away to reveal a 1.5-metre statue of a teenage girl, seated on a chair, hair cropped, barefooted, fists clenched, a “bird of peace” on her shoulder. A granite plaque commemorated the “countless girls and women from across the Asia-Pacific region” who were lured or coerced into sexual service by the Japanese military during the second world war. It warned against “the repeat of such atrocities worldwide”. An adjoining bronze chair allowed passers-by to put themselves literally in the young woman’s place.

Since the first statue opposite Japan’s embassy in Seoul, Tokyo has employed an arsenal of diplomatic means to force the removal of ‘comfort women’ statues

The next day, Japan’s chief cabinet secretary, Katsunobu Kato, held a press conference in Tokyo. “We are aware of the statue’s unveiling in Berlin, Germany,” Kato said. He called it “a very regrettable action” and said the Japanese government intended to “approach various parties involved in order to remove the statue”.

Japan’s conservative government takes a dim view of “comfort women” statues. They are seen as the reification of a faulty historical narrative. Revisionists on the Japanese right claim the women were not coerced into sexual servitude by the Japanese military, but recruited as prostitutes by their fellow countrymen. Japan regards the statues as a political attack on its reputation and not the commemoration of agreed historical fact.

The statues also obscure Japan’s repeated apologies. In August 1993, the then chief cabinet secretary Yohei Kono extended Japan’s “sincere apologies and remorse to all those, irrespective of place of origin, who suffered immeasurable pain and incurable physical and psychological wounds as comfort women”.

Since Kono’s landmark statement, Japanese governments have oscillated between heartfelt regret and incendiary repudiation. Accords have been signed, compensation paid, apologies retracted. In March 2007, then prime minister Shinzo Abe sparked international outrage when he denied Japan’s use of wartime sex slaves. “There is no evidence to prove there was coercion,” Abe said, “nothing to support it.”

Earlier this year, Harvard Law School professor J Mark Ramseyer appeared to endorse the Abe thesis, asserting that the “comfort-women-sex-slave story” was “pure fiction”. As proof, Ramseyer cited “indenture contracts” between brothels and prostitutes “that coupled a large advance with one or two year terms”. A fellow Harvard professor, Carter J Eckert, called the assertions “woefully deficient, empirically, historically, and morally”.

Since December 2011, when the first Statue of Peace was installed opposite the Japanese embassy in Seoul to mark the 1,000th week of protest by former “comfort women”, Tokyo has employed an arsenal of diplomatic weapons — political, economic, legal — to force the removal of “comfort women” statues. They have suspended diplomatic relations, abrogated bilateral agreements, threatened economic reprisal. In 2017, an amicus curiae brief was submitted to the US Supreme Court, on behalf of Japan, questioning whether it was “constitutionally permissible” for Glendale, California, which erected a Statue of Peace, “to disrupt the United States’ foreign policy”. Beyond Korea and the US, there are “comfort women” statues in China, the Philippines, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Australia, Canada, and now Germany. It is the diplomatic equivalent of “whack a mole”.

Tokyo’s recent attempt to pressure Berlin is particularly awkward: a former imperialist power urging the successor government of a former fascist ally to erase the memory of wartime atrocity. More awkward still is the fact that during its rotating presidency of the UN Security Council in April 2019, Germany successfully sponsored Security Council Resolution 2467 “combating sexual violence in conflict”. “With this resolution,” German foreign minister Heiko Maas said, “we are putting victims centre stage and call on all member states to allow them to live their lives in dignity.”

Last autumn, when a Japanese newspaper reported that Tokyo’s foreign minister, Toshimitsu Motegi, had spoken to his German counterpart about removing the statue, the German foreign ministry refused to comment. A Berlin city official clarified matters: “When the office of the Senate became aware of the situation, discussions were held with the Japanese embassy and the Mitte district office, and a quick solution was decided on.” Nataly Han’s one-year permit was rescinded.

German officials should not get involved in suppressing efforts by independent civil society initiatives to recognise Japanese war crimes

“The ‘Statue of Peace’ and its plaque,” said district mayor von Dassel, “touch on a politically and historically complex dispute between two states, in which it is not appropriate for Germany to be involved.” Von Dassel gave Han one week to remove the statue. Tokyo welcomed the news with cautious optimism. “We perceive it as a positive move and will continue to monitor the situation,” Kato said.

The rescindment sparked fury in Berlin. So-Yeon Schröder-Kim, the wife of former German chancellor Gerhard Schröder, is of Korean heritage. She said: “German officials should not get involved in suppressing efforts by independent civil society initiatives to recognise Japanese war crimes.” Nataly Han posted an online petition. “Berlin must be a space where memory work against sexual violence in war can develop freely,” she wrote. Han defended freedom of expression. She cautioned against “diplomatic pressure”. Her petition was signed by 3,454 supporters, many of them Biodeutsche. Another online petition, posted by Ah-Hyun Angela Lee, a student in Frankfurt-am-Main, registered more than 8,000 signatures.

Last autumn, a day before the von Dassel removal deadline, 300 protesters marched on his office. Von Dassel rescinded his rescindment. “We are hoping for a compromise that is fair to the interests of the Korea Society as well as the Japanese,” he said. The Japanese embassy signalled that removal was the only option. When I called the German foreign ministry, I was simply told that the dispute was a municipal matter, outside foreign ministry “competencies”.

Last December, the local council for Berlin’s Mitte district voted on the contested installation. In a majority 24-to-five decision, the council voted in favour of retaining the statue. Several council members bristled at Japan’s interference in municipal matters. One called it anrüchig, or highly inappropriate, even offensive.

When I visited the Statue of Peace amid the dispute, fresh flowers mixed with fallen autumn leaves. Three red carnations lay across the clenched fists. Copies of Nataly Han’s online petition, bright yellow in protective plastic, were taped to the granite base. Someone had placed earmuffs around the statue’s neck in anticipation of an extended stay in Berlin.

Timothy W Ryback is co-editor of ‘Contested Histories in Public Spaces: Principles, Processes, Best Practices’, published in February by the International Bar Association

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