Mass media play a central role in shaping the collective memory of nation-states, especially in relation to events beyond the lived experience of most of their members—a role famously articulated by Walter Lippmann in Public Opinion (1922). Visual media have become particularly pivotal in constructing and preserving narratives of “national history,” much as print media did in earlier centuries. From the second half of the twentieth century onward, their ubiquity—intensified by the rise of digital technologies—has blurred the line between fiction and historical accuracy. As Barbie Zelizer has argued, media function as “vehicles of memory,” shaping what societies remember and forget (Zelizer Reference Zelizer, Erll and Nünning2010: 379–87), while Astrid Erll describes this process as creating an “illusion of transparency,” wherein mediated images seem to present the past as self-evident but are, in fact, cultural constructions (Erll Reference Erll2011: 127). In this sense, mass media do not simply record history but actively frame it in ways that reflect—and reinforce—dominant political and sociocultural dynamics. This process aligns with what scholars describe as the politics of memory, the ways in which states, institutions, and cultural producers construct, contest, and mobilize historical narratives to serve present-day political or identity needs (Assmann Reference Assmann2010).
In Japan, the legacy of the Asia-Pacific War remains a prominent yet contested domain of collective memory, oscillating between sanitized accounts of a “glorious war” to liberate Asia from Western colonialism and more critical reflections on Japan’s own colonialism, imperialism, and war crimes. While Japanese society frequently revisits this period—through memorials, museums, and newspapers—the dominant narrative in visual media tends to emphasize domestic suffering, often omitting perspectives that confront Japan’s aggression and its impact on other nations. This phenomenon has been widely described by progressive scholars as “victim consciousness” (higaisha ishiki), a term used by Fukuda, among others, to critique the postwar tendency to focus primarily on Japanese suffering. A related concept, “oblivion of Asia,” has been invoked by Yoshida to underscore the erasure of other Asian nations from Japan’s war memory (Yoshida Reference Yoshida2005).
One such omission of wartime reprehensible actions in visual media concerns the Japanese occupation of the Philippines (1942–1945), which led to an estimated 500,000–1,000,000 Filipino deaths as a result of countless atrocities, including the infamous Bataan Death March and the Manila Massacre (Dear and Foot Reference Dear and Foot1995: 884; Dower Reference Dower1986: 296). Despite the scale of this human cost, this research will show that Filipino victims are noticeably absent from Japanese television and cinema. This issue is further exacerbated by the growing online distribution of visual media content through streaming platforms, perpetuating a vicious cycle of underrepresentation. This erasure aligns with broader patterns that significantly affect Japan’s collective memory, national identity, and its role in international relations.
Owing to the intensified 2017 debates about revising Article 9—a clause in Japan’s Constitution that renounces war and restricts military capabilities—and the resulting concerns over a potential resurgence of Japanese nationalism and the weakening of its pacifist identity, I conducted a 2-week study in August 2017. This study examined 185 Asia-Pacific-War-related programs broadcast across six major Japanese television channels, encompassing 2,160 hours of content. Remarkably, none of these programs included depictions of Filipino victims.
Similarly, as the 1980s are considered a crucial decade in the development of the “history problem” in its “modern form,” marked by intensified diplomatic tensions in East Asia over conflicting Asia-Pacific War narratives, I analyzed 61 war-related Japanese films released between 1980 and 2023. While historical disputes in the region date back to the immediate postwar years, Hattori Ryūji argues that the “history problem” as we now understand it emerged in the 1980s, following a period of relative silence. This shift was catalyzed by controversies such as the 1983 textbook revisions—linked to the so-called Neighboring Country Clause—and Prime Minister Nakasone Yasuhiro’s visit to the Yasukuni Shrine on August 15, 1985 (Hattori Reference Hattori2019). For this reason, the 1980s provide a historically grounded starting point for examining how Japanese visual media began to reframe Asia-Pacific War narratives. Among the films I examined, only three depicted Filipino victims, and these portrayals were often ambiguous and lacked depth.
For instance, Filipinos were depicted not only as victims but also as aggressors, embodying violent and vengeful figures. Although the suffering of individuals in “the jungles of Asia” is acknowledged in a fourth film, the Philippines is never explicitly mentioned. Instead, its presence is subtly suggested through indirect references to battles or military units—details that would be recognizable only to the most attentive viewers.
This selective representation contrasts with the depiction of Chinese and Korean victims. For example, in the study of Japanese television, Chinese and Korean victims were minimally represented but were not wholly absent as the Filipino victims were. In Japanese cinema, however, the situation shifts: Filipinos are depicted at a comparable percentage to Chinese victims and more frequently than Koreans. Nonetheless, as explained later, their overall representation remains extremely limited.
Interestingly, on television, the only victims represented were Chinese and Koreans, possibly owing to the persistent demands for recognition by their respective governments. In contrast, nations currently categorized as friendly to Japan (shinnichi)—such as the Philippines, Taiwan, Singapore, and Indonesia—have been marginalized mainly in Japanese media narratives. This discrepancy suggests that underrepresenting “friendly nations” is not merely an oversight but may reflect deeper issues tied to Japan’s diplomatic priorities. While such an interpretation is compelling, it is important to acknowledge the limitations of the present study. As it is grounded in media and content analysis, it cannot establish direct causal connections between media representations and broader historical or political agendas without production-side evidence.
Before proceeding with the analysis, it is essential to define what “underrepresentation” means in the context of this study. In media studies, underrepresentation refers to the insufficient or disproportionately low representation of certain groups, communities, or perspectives in media content relative to their actual presence or significance. This concept often highlights the marginalization of racial, ethnic, gender, or other minority groups, reinforcing stereotypes, perpetuating biases, or rendering these groups invisible. Underrepresentation is typically examined along two dimensions: quantity, which addresses the frequency or number of appearances, and quality, which evaluates how these groups are portrayed.
Researchers use different methods to measure underrepresentation in media. One common approach is to count how often a group appears in a specific medium (Sugiyama Reference Sugiyama2010). Another method, known as “sequence analysis,” examines the amount of screen time dedicated to a particular group and compares it with the portrayal of others (Montiel Reference Montiel2002). In this study, I applied sequence analysis to compare the representation of Japanese and non-Japanese victims in selected films. For instance, in Black Rain (1989), scenes depicting Japanese victims of the atomic bomb—showing death, illness, and the loss of loved ones—occupy approximately 41.87% of the film’s total runtime, amounting to about 47 minutes. In contrast, The Great Japanese Empire (1982) portrays Filipino victims in a single sequence, which constitutes only about 2.4% of the film, or 4 minutes and 19 seconds.
After briefly outlining the definition and the methodology, I wanted to articulate the rationale behind employing this concept. The term “underrepresentation” of Asian victims is used in the context of this study—particularly Filipino people—because Japanese media tends to depict the Asia-Pacific War as a “hermetically sealed all-Japanese world,” a phrase used by Peter B. High to describe wartime propaganda films in which non-Japanese characters were entirely erased (High Reference High1995: 387). Despite the centrality of Japanese people in media narratives, the War was a global conflict in which many Asian peoples suffered as a result of Japan’s aggression. The near-total absence of non-Japanese victims in the corpus analyzed reflects a selective memory that obscures this broader reality.
This selective memory has far-reaching implications for international relations. Beyond neglecting historical accuracy and ignoring the suffering of the victims, it hinders symbolic integration and international reconciliation. As Andreas Langenohl argues, recent democratic theory highlights the importance of acknowledging problematic episodes of national history as a means of fostering societal cohesion (Langenohl Reference Langenohl, Erll and Nünning2010: 163–72). By confronting its past, a society can articulate “avoidance imperatives”—a collective rejection of behaviors and ideologies that should not be repeated.
In addition, Japan’s memory practices can improve its international relations. For example, Chinese victims have been increasingly acknowledged in Japanese media, partly owing to diplomatic pressures and evolving public discourse. A Japanese documentary on Unit 731 broadcast by NHK received praise from the Chinese government, illustrating the potential for inclusive historical narratives to mend international relations (for coverage of the Chinese government’s reaction to the documentary, see “Japanese Public Broadcaster Wins Acclaim in China for World War II Documentary,” The Diplomat, 22 August 2017. https://thediplomat.com/2017/08/japanese-public-broadcaster-wins-acclaim-in-china-for-world-war-ii-documentary/). For the same reason, the exclusion of Filipino victims signals a missed opportunity for Japan to engage with its broader wartime legacy in a way that fosters trust and reconciliation with its Southeast Asian neighbors. In other words, authentic collective memory is crucial for achieving historical justice and serves as a foundation for improving deeper regional and global understanding.
The legacy of violence
The Japanese occupation of the Philippines (1942–1945) was a period of systemic violence and unspeakable atrocities that reshaped the nation’s social and physical landscape. The infamous Bataan Death March stands as one of the most recognized atrocities of the occupation. Following the surrender of Bataan in April 1942, over 60,000 Filipinos and 10,000 US prisoners of war (POWs) were forcibly marched approximately 105 km to prison camps under extreme conditions. Along the route, thousands succumbed to exhaustion, dehydration, starvation, and physical abuse, while others were summarily executed (Dear and Foot Reference Dear and Foot1995: 114–15).
Atrocities against civilians were widespread and often retaliatory in nature, targeting those suspected of aiding guerrilla resistance. In Infanta, Tayabas Province, villagers were subjected to mass executions, torture, and sexual violence. The Palawan Massacre of December 1944 exemplifies the occupation’s cruelty toward prisoners of war, as 139 US POWs were burned alive to prevent their rescue by advancing Allied forces. Similar acts of calculated violence occurred in Balangiga and surrounding areas, where entire villages were destroyed, and their inhabitants were slaughtered. These events demonstrate the occupation forces’ use of collective punishment and scorched-earth tactics to suppress resistance (Steinberg Reference Steinberg1979: 143).
The culmination of these atrocities occurred during the Battle of Manila in February 1945, a defining moment of the occupation. Japanese forces, entrenched in strategic locations such as the walled city of Intramuros, conducted systematic massacres of civilians while Allied bombardments reduced much of the city to rubble. The Manila Massacre resulted in the deaths of an estimated 100,000 civilians, many of whom were executed or killed during indiscriminate attacks.
Efforts to memorialize these events have taken diverse forms, depending on the cultural and historical context. In the Philippines, commemorative practices and cultural productions—such as films, literature, and memorials—have frequently emphasized heroic acts, resilience, and the everyday strategies of survival during wartime. While such narratives are empowering, they can also redirect focus away from stories that center on Filipino suffering, trauma, and powerlessness. As a result, what might be termed the “victim” narrative tends to receive less attention within the broader landscape of public memory (Candelaria and Ebro Reference Candelaria and Ebro2024). This narrative imbalance is further complicated by recent policy changes, such as the removal of a dedicated Philippine History subject from the high school curriculum under the K–12 reform, which has sparked widespread debate about historical consciousness and national identity.
In Japan, some voices, such as poet Kurihara Sadako, have sought to address the occupation’s atrocities, challenging the selective narratives often presented in Japanese media. Her 1976 poem When We Say Hiroshima highlighted the suffering of Filipino civilians, including women and children, who were subjected to mass killings. However, such perspectives remain isolated, overshadowed by the broader tendency of Japanese media to focus on domestic wartime suffering while minimizing the experiences of other Asian peoples. As Hitoshi Nagai observes, the memory of this devastating War has largely faded in Japan, eclipsed by dominant narratives of victimhood centered on the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki (Nagai Reference Nagai2022).
Memory, justice, and reconciliation
In the aftermath of World War II, Filipino–Japanese relations navigated a fraught landscape of justice, reparations, and eventual reconciliation. Between 1947 and 1949, the Philippines conducted 73 war crimes trials against 155 Japanese military personnel, convicting 138 and sentencing 79 to death. However, the scale of wartime atrocities—mass executions, torture, and the Bataan Death March—underscored the limitations of judicial redress in addressing the human cost of the War.
A turning point came in 1953 when President Elpidio Quirino pardoned 105 Japanese war criminals (this despite losing his wife and three children to Japanese gunfire in 1945). His controversial act, described as a gesture of forgiveness for the sake of future generations, facilitated the restoration of ties. Diplomatic normalization had been foreseen with the Philippines signing the 1951 San Francisco Peace Treaty and securing a reparations agreement in 1956. These reparations laid the groundwork for Japan’s regional economic aid strategy.
Economic ties deepened, particularly during Ferdinand Marcos Sr.’s administration, with projects such as the Philippines–Japan Friendship Highway, exemplifying growing collaboration. Japan’s Official Development Assistance (ODA), institutionalized through JICA, became a cornerstone of bilateral relations, funding major infrastructure and disaster recovery projects. Yet tensions over wartime memory persisted, as in the Duterte administration’s 2018 removal of a “comfort women” statue before an ADB summit, reportedly to avoid antagonizing Japan.
As previously mentioned, in the Philippines, public memory of the war navigates a complex terrain in which official narratives of reconciliation and resilience often shift emphasis away from direct victimhood toward themes of endurance and national development. This dynamic reflects what scholars call the politics of memory, whereby state institutions and cultural narratives favor frames that strengthen dominant national self-images while minimizing elements that challenge them. While the study’s media-based methodology cannot establish causal links between such political actions and specific patterns of representation, recognizing these dynamics provides essential context for understanding the forces that determine what is remembered and what is forgotten.
Visual media, collective memory, and national identity
Collective memory is crucial in constructing national identity, offering a sense of continuity, and fostering unity within a community. Anthony D. Smith emphasizes that “shared memories” and historical narratives are central to defining a nation’s identity, linking its present to a glorified past (Smith Reference Smith1992). Benedict Anderson’s concept of “imagined communities” further underscores how collective memory enables individuals to perceive themselves as part of a cohesive national whole, even without meeting most of their fellow members (Anderson Reference Anderson1991). While borders, language, and ethnicity contribute to identity formation, the “shared memories” of these “imagined communities”—transmitted through mass media, particularly visual media—act as a powerful force in solidifying a collective sense of belonging.
In the context of Japan, the interplay between memory, media, and national identity has generated significant controversies, particularly regarding the representation of the Asia-Pacific War. This interconnection helps explain why Japan’s reimagining of the War has been so contentious. For specific Japanese individuals, history is not seen as a neutral subject of examination but rather as an intrinsic component of their identity. These tensions are especially apparent in the selective portrayals of victims within Japanese visual media, which frequently marginalizes the experiences of non-Japanese individuals affected by the War.
The construction of collective memory is deeply influenced by the educational system and mass media, with the latter playing an increasingly dominant role in modern societies. Carol Gluck argues that “the informational power of the media is as important to the collective construction of memory in advanced capitalist societies as the schools were once thought to be” (Gluck Reference Gluck and Gordon1993: 64–95). Among media forms, some have claimed that visual media stands out for its ability to evoke emotional and cognitive engagement simultaneously (Plantinga and Smith Reference Plantinga and Smith1999).
Theoretical perspectives further emphasize the impact of visual media on collective memory formation. Alison Landsberg’s concept of “prosthetic memory” highlights how cinematic experiences can implant memories of events individuals have not directly experienced (Landsberg Reference Landsberg2004). Similarly, Marita Sturken observes that survivors often blend personal recollections with mediated representations, reshaping their memories through media consumption (Sturken Reference Sturken1997). For instance, films such as Saving Private Ryan (1998) demonstrate cinema’s profound influence on transforming historical events into enduring cultural scripts, sometimes even reshaping veterans’ own memories.
Theoretical perspectives emphasize the transformative role of visual media in shaping collective memory. In Japan, the influence of visual media on the collective memory of the Asia-Pacific War has been widely studied. However, the persistent underrepresentation of non-Japanese victims remains a significant issue. Akashi Sugiyama’s analysis of Japanese television content from 2007 to 2008 provides valuable insights into this disparity, highlighting a broader pattern of marginalization of Asian victims (Sugiyama Reference Sugiyama2010: 15–20). However, this study takes a different approach by focusing specifically on the absence of representations of Filipino victims.
Sugiyama’s rigorous analysis demonstrates that despite the far greater number of non-Japanese victims in Asia—many resulting directly from Japanese aggression—Japanese visual media largely ignores these victims, focusing instead on an ethnocentric portrayal of Japanese suffering. By relying on quantifiable data, Sugiyama reveals how these narratives shape a collective memory aligned with nationalist perspectives, reinforcing self-victimhood while suppressing inconvenient truths about Japan’s wartime actions. His main claim is that this sort of selective representation marginalizes “otherness” and conveniently minimizes Japan’s role as an aggressor (Sugiyama Reference Sugiyama2010: 15–20).
As Japanese television, Japanese cinema frequently adopts a narrative framework focusing on Japanese suffering during the Asia-Pacific War. Such representations tend to marginalize non-Japanese victims, while simultaneously glorifying militaristic values or romanticizing wartime experiences, particularly in dramatizations of the Kamikaze Special Attack Forces. The present analysis further argues that Japanese media often portrays the War as an unforeseen natural calamity that commenced in 1942 or 1943 and evolved into a bilateral conflict between Japan and the US, with other Asian nations largely absent or depicted as passive observers. This framing culminates in a depiction of the War’s conclusion as a noble but tragic struggle, characterized solely by Japanese suffering and ending in 1945 with little exploration of its broader origins or consequences.
Several Philippine-produced films have portrayed the Asia–Pacific War through a distinctly local lens, yet they often emphasize national heroism, sacrifice, and resilience more than the suffering of Filipino civilians. Notable examples include Manila, Open City (1968, dir. Eddie Romero), Maharlika (1970, dir. Jerry Hopper), Oro, Plata, Mata (1982, dir. Peque Gallaga), Panaghoy sa Suba/The Call of the River (2004, dir. Cesar Montano), and Aishite Imasu 1941: Mahal Kita (2004, dir. Joel Lamangan). Although these works vary in style and historical framing, they share a tendency to foreground valor and endurance, reflecting a broader commemorative pattern in the Philippines that often shifts attention away from victimhood. This is not an isolated phenomenon: As Susan Jeffords (Reference Jeffords1989) demonstrates, many American films about the Vietnam War—such as Rambo: First Blood Part II (1985) and We Were Soldiers (2002)—focus on the heroism and trauma of US soldiers while devoting little narrative space to Vietnamese perspectives or civilian suffering.
Placing the Philippine case in dialogue with patterns in Japanese-produced media would allow for a richer comparative understanding of how different national contexts negotiate or sideline the memory of Filipino wartime suffering. While such a comparative study lies beyond the scope of this research, it represents a promising direction for future scholarship. Against this backdrop, the underrepresentation of Filipino victimhood in Japanese visual media emerges as a significant gap in existing studies. The present work addresses that omission by examining how this erasure operates within Japanese visual media and by considering its implications for cultural memory, diplomacy, and reconciliation.
Analytical strategies for understanding visual media
This study employs a dual approach to investigating how the Asia-Pacific War is represented in Japanese visual media. It applies methodologies specifically designed to account for each medium’s unique characteristics. By analyzing television programs and films, the study seeks to uncover patterns of representation, identify disparities, and evaluate their broader implications for the construction of collective memory.
For television, data collection spanned 2 weeks, from August 1 to August 15, 2017, coinciding with a notable increase in war-related programming leading up to Japan’s surrender commemoration on August 15. Continuous recordings of six major Japanese TV channels (NHK, TV Asahi, TBS, Nippon Television, TV Tokyo, and Fuji Television) yielded 2,160 hours of broadcast content, encompassing 3,199 programs. From this dataset, 185 programs directly related to the Asia-Pacific War were selected for analysis. Individuals depicted in these programs were categorized by attributes such as nationality, role (combatant or noncombatant), age, gender, and the creators’ perspective (e.g., victim-oriented or perpetrator-oriented). Ambiguous cases were documented with screenshots and resolved through group discussions to ensure consistency and accuracy.
For the cinematic analysis, this study concentrates on the transformative period from the 1980s to 2023—a time shaped by significant shifts in Japan’s sociopolitical landscape and mnemonic practices, often referred to as the “history problem” (Koyama Reference Koyama2020) or “memory wars” (White Reference White1995). A sample of 61 films was selected from a larger pool of 424 titles on the basis of three criteria: box office success, inclusion in the “Best Ten” lists of Kinema Junpō (editorial and reader selections), and cultural impact, as indicated by their reception. Non-Japanese characters in these films were identified and categorized by nationality or ethnicity. Identifying foreign characters in the films was facilitated by clear markers such as language, attire, location, narrator descriptions, and contextual cues within the narrative. Then, they were classified using Akiko Hashimoto’s framework of heroes, victims, and perpetrators (Hashimoto Reference Hashimoto2015: 7–9). To address characters that did not clearly fit these roles, an additional category, “difficult judgment,” was introduced to provide greater analytical flexibility. The definitions for these roles were drawn from Akashi Sugiyama’s research on Japanese visual media, with “victims” encompassing characters depicted as suffering injuries, mistreatment, or torture. Similar criteria were applied to determine “heroes” and “perpetrators.”
To minimize subjectivity, narratological techniques such as découpage were employed. This method involves breaking down films into smaller units to identify explicit and implicit discourses (Aumont and Marie Reference Aumont and Marie1989). The analysis examined objectifiable elements (e.g., director, plot) alongside non-objectifiable aspects (e.g., aesthetics, themes) to uncover deeper layers of meaning. Elements such as sequences, dialogues, and mise-en-scène—framing, lighting, and other compositional details—were meticulously analyzed to assess the films’ emotional and ideological undertones.
Patterns of erasure in Japanese war media
The analysis of Japanese television and film narratives reveals significant disparities in the representation of Asia-Pacific War victims, particularly those from the Philippines and other regions deeply affected by Japanese colonial and military aggression.
In the television dataset—which included 26,215 characters from 180 programs related to the collective memory of the war, broadcast on 6 major Japanese channels—82% of the characters were Japanese. This proportion aligns with findings from earlier studies conducted in 2007–2008, where Japanese representation across all categories (e.g., victims, perpetrators) accounted for 90% and 81%, respectively (Sugiyama Reference Sugiyama2010: 15–20). Non-Japanese characters, by contrast, were severely underrepresented: Characters from Allied nations (US, Britain, and Australia) made up only 7%, while Chinese characters accounted for 1.6% and Koreans just 0.6%.
The 2017 analysis, which focused explicitly on characters portrayed as “victims,” introduced further subcategories within the broader Asian group to emphasize this imbalance. Among all victims depicted, 88% were Japanese. Non-Japanese victims were distributed as follows: 2.7% were Chinese, 0.3% were Koreans, 0.6% were from Micronesia (classified under “other Japanese-occupied regions”), 1.3% represented Allied nations, 0.2% were from Axis powers other than Japan, and 4% were categorized as “unknown.” Notably, no characters were identified from regions that suffered severely under Japanese occupation—such as the Philippines, Taiwan, Indonesia, Singapore, Malaysia, or Myanmar (modern states such as Indonesia, Singapore, Malaysia, and Myanmar were colonial or occupied territories during this period. Contemporary names are used for clarity; for example, references to Indonesia denote the Dutch East Indies, and references to Korea denote the Japanese-annexed Chosen.). In the earlier studies from 2007 to 2008, the representation of Asian groups was so minimal that detailed subcategories were excluded entirely, as many categories would have registered as zero.
Films
Japanese war films released between 1980 and 2023 reveal an expanded—yet persistently problematic—representation of non-Japanese victims. The total number of characters across the 61 films analyzed is approximately 60,500. For methodological accuracy, every non-Japanese character was documented individually, regardless of whether their appearance lasted only a few seconds or extended across recurring roles throughout the films. Despite this effort, only 1,995 characters—representing a mere 3.30%—were non-Japanese, underscoring the stark underrepresentation of non-Japanese victims of the war.
The analysis also highlights striking disparities in the portrayal of white and Asian victims. Among the non-Japanese characters, 273 were white, including undifferentiated POWs, US citizens, British, Australians, and Dutch. In contrast, Asian victims—comprising Filipinos, Chinese, and Koreans—accounted for only 128 characters. Within this subgroup, 54 were Chinese, 41 were Filipinos, and 33 were Koreans, reflecting significant variations even within the broader Asian demographic.
Filipino victims, in particular, were rarely represented throughout the films. Among the 61 movies analyzed, only three explicitly depicted Filipino victims, while one addressed their suffering indirectly through the testimony of a Japanese veteran. The Great Japanese Empire (1982) portrayed nine Filipinos being machine-gunned, while The Last Friends (1995) depicted another nine being killed with blades. Fires on the Plain (2014) graphically represented three Filipinos as victims of cannibalism by Japanese soldiers. In addition, The Friends (1994) indirectly referenced at least seven Filipino victims through the confession of Denpo Kihachi, a Japanese World War II veteran, who recounted killing a family “in the jungle.” While the confession did not explicitly name the victims as Filipinos, contextual clues—such as the military unit to which the protagonist was assigned, recognizable only to a specialized historian—strongly suggest this to be the case.
The following section will examine the implications of these findings, particularly the persistent disparities in representation and the limited acknowledgment of Filipino victims.
Unpacking the erasure: implications of Filipino victims in media narratives
Although NHK has occasionally acknowledged Japan’s wartime aggression, Filipino suffering remains marginal in these narratives. Two NHK Special programs—The Philippines: Desperate Urban Warfare—The Manila Naval Defense Force (2008) and The Endless War of Attrition: Testimony and Records of the Battle of Leyte (2008)—serve as rare examples addressing the toll of combat in the Philippines. However, their limited distribution and archival accessibility have curtailed their broader impact, and even when Filipino suffering is depicted, it is frequently overshadowed by narratives emphasizing the hardships of Japanese soldiers.
The central issue, nonetheless, remains: If a Japanese viewer were to rely on television to inform themselves about the Asia-Pacific War—an assumption supported by national surveys on media consumption—they would likely encounter programs almost exclusively narrating Japanese misery. According to the most recent Databook: Survey on National Life Time Use available at the time of this study, television viewing in Japan averaged 3 hours and 18 minutes per day, while internet use—classified under “hobbies and entertainment”—averaged only 32 minutes (NHK 2015: 30). Although more recent NHK surveys indicate a decline in television viewing and an increase in internet use, especially among younger demographics, much of the content consumed online still consists of material originally broadcast on television or in cinemas. For this reason, traditional broadcast media continues to shape public understanding of wartime history to a significant degree. The likelihood of encountering a program that expressly acknowledges the suffering of the Filipino people at the hands of the Japanese military, however, remains exceedingly low.
In Japanese cinema, portrayals of Filipino victims show similar tendencies, varying in tone and framing but often reflecting a focus on Japanese perspectives. Nationalistic films, such as The Great Japanese Empire, relativize Japanese wartime atrocities by juxtaposing them with Allied actions. In contrast, introspective works such as The Last Friends (1995) and Fires on the Plain (2014) attempt to critique the dehumanizing effects of war but still often center on Japanese soldiers as victims of circumstance. As in the analysis of television, even in cases where Filipino suffering is depicted, it is overshadowed by narratives emphasizing the moral and psychological struggles of Japanese perpetrators.
For instance, The Great Japanese Empire (1982) includes a brief scene depicting the machine-gunning of nine Filipinos during the Philippine campaign. However, this act of brutality is subsumed within a broader nationalist narrative that glorifies figures such as General Tōjō Hideki, absolves Emperor Hirohito of responsibility, and frames the war as a necessary response to US provocation. The film relativizes Japanese atrocities by highlighting Allied misconduct, such as British soldiers feigning surrender during the Malay Campaign, leading to the deaths of Japanese troops. In that sequence, British POWs are shown laughing and singing shortly after a Japanese soldier, grieving the death of a comrade and angered by their perceived indifference, kills one of them. Although this act is portrayed as an instance of perpetration, the broader narrative frames it as a justifiable response to Allied cruelty.
Figure 1: Characters represented as victims in Japanese television by ethnicity, nationality, or alliances.
Data from 2007–2008 are drawn from Sugiyama (Reference Sugiyama2010); 2017 data are based on my own research. In Sugiyama’s study, Asian representation was so limited that subcategories were omitted. Across all datasets, Chinese characters were depicted most frequently, followed by Koreans, with rare mentions of others such as Micronesians in 2017. No characters from the Philippines were represented. Source: Sugiyama (2010); author’s own research (2017).
Figure 2: Non-Japanese victims in Japanese war films (1980–2023).
The chart on the left visualizes the overall scarcity of non-Japanese victims. The chart on the right breaks down their composition, showing that they constitute only 3.3% of all characters analyzed. The internal distribution distinguishes between white and Asian victims. Source: Author’s own dataset and analysis (1980–2023).
In the same film, when the narrative shifts to the Philippine front, it maintains themes of romanticized nationalism and moral ambiguity. Egami (Saburō Shinoda) forms a romantic relationship with Maria, a Filipina portrayed by Japanese actress Natsume Masako. Maria’s backstory, where guerrillas kill her parents for collaborating with the Japanese, evokes archetypes from earlier propaganda films such as Night in China (1940), framing colonizer–colonized dynamics as a dichotomy between civilization and savagery, with the masculine protector saving the feminine victim. As US forces advance, Maria aids wounded Japanese soldiers and leads a group of nine Filipinos in supporting the Japanese retreat. However, after completing their task, Daimon (Teruhiko Saigō), the group’s leader, orders their execution to maintain secrecy. The Filipinos are shot from behind, a massacre rationalized by Daimon as a strategic necessity. Egami, initially horrified, tries to protect Maria but ultimately succumbs to Daimon’s justification.
Similarly, Fires on the Plain (2014) portrays Filipinos not as victims but as adversaries within a survival-focused narrative centered on Japanese soldiers. Similar to its 1959 predecessor, the remake follows the protagonist, Private Tamura (Tsukamoto Shinya), through tense and strained interactions with Filipinos. In one scene, Tamura enters a home in an abandoned village near a church. Reacting to the terrified movements of a woman inside, he inexplicably shoots her, casting himself as an aggressor.
Later, after a battle with US forces, Tamura witnesses a furious and vengeful Filipino guerrilla woman executing a surrendered Japanese soldier. This brutality disillusions Tamura, prompting him to abandon his plan to lay down arms. Instead, he resumes his solitary journey through a desolate landscape littered with Japanese soldiers’ corpses.
In contrast, The Last Friends (1995), directed by Deme Masanobu, provides a more direct and unflinching depiction of Filipino suffering. Departing from the omission of non-Japanese victims seen in the 1950 version by Sekigawa Hideo, the 1995 production portrays the atrocities committed by Japanese soldiers with unreserved honesty. In one scene, soldiers, suspecting guerrillas in a village, indiscriminately open fire, only to discover elderly villagers and children begging for mercy. Despite one soldier’s attempt to intervene, the massacre continues, with civilians, including children, killed with swords. The soldiers justify their actions as a wartime necessity, loot the village, and label the Filipinos as enemy collaborators. The violence culminates when they capture a young woman, strip her, and imply further atrocities, leaving her fate to the audience’s imagination. Unlike The Great Japanese Empire, which rationalizes such acts through nationalistic framing, The Last Friends adopts a pacifist and reconciliatory stance. Through its performances, nondiegetic music, and narrative framing, the film unequivocally condemns the violence, offering an unambiguous critique of wartime responsibility.
In The Friends (1994), Kihachi Denpo (Mikuni Rentarō) recounts his wartime actions, admitting to killing seven Filipinos—though these victims remain unseen. Initially observed by Kiyama, an elementary student, and his friends as part of their exploration of death, Denpo’s relationship with the children evolves into an unlikely bond. During a storm, he reveals his trauma, confessing to the murder of a family, including a pregnant woman. His shame isolates him, leaving him unable to face his wife, who had waited for him after the war. The film contrasts Denpo’s emotional burden with the younger generation’s detachment from history. For Denpo, the war is a profound source of shame and guilt, but his confession is met with unsettling indifference. One child says, “Isn’t it great (the war)?” and “What does it feel like to kill someone?” before pretending to mimic machine-gun fire. The rest of the film focuses on the protagonist’s internal struggles, rather than any detail of the lives and stories of the Filipino victims, reinforcing a pattern of depicting “perpetrators as victims” in Japanese visual media.
The omission of Filipino victims in Japanese visual media has profound implications for both national identity and international relations. By neglecting to represent the victims of its wartime aggression, Japan forfeits opportunities to confront the full extent of its actions and establish avoidance imperatives—a societal commitment to acknowledge past atrocities and reject the ideologies that enabled them. This lack of reckoning risks perpetuating a one-sided narrative that prioritizes Japanese victimhood while sidelining the voices of others, undermining Japan’s cultural and democratic integrity.
Japan’s selective memory also affects its relationships with its Southeast Asian neighbors. The limited recognition of Filipino suffering cannot be attributed solely to a lack of media awareness but reflects deeper structural preferences, favoring narratives from countries exerting sustained diplomatic pressure.
By acknowledging these neglected narratives, Japan could foster regional trust and reconciliation, contributing to historical justice. Such efforts would strengthen diplomatic ties and affirm Japan’s role as a responsible global actor dedicated to mutual understanding and accountability.
While the data do not conclusively demonstrate a deliberate intent to exclude Filipino victims, they point to structural factors within Japanese media production that prioritize domestic perspectives. These include an emphasis on Japanese suffering during the late war years (1943–1945), narratives focused on the Japanese home front, and framing the Asia-Pacific War as a bilateral conflict between Japan and the US. This selective focus reflects the concept of victim consciousness, a cultural inclination to highlight Japan’s wartime suffering while minimizing its role as an aggressor.
This tendency is particularly evident in the disproportionate focus on the final years of the war, marked by Japan’s military decline and civilian hardships from bombings. By centering on this period, media narratives obscure the broader scope of the war, including the suffering of non-Japanese Asians such as Filipinos. While this omission may not be intentional, it is an implicit strategy to avoid a more profound reckoning with Japan’s imperial legacy. These selective memory practices shape Japan’s national identity and affect its diplomatic relationships, as nations such as the Philippines continue to advocate for the inclusion of their wartime experiences in Japanese media and education.
Challenging this selective memory underscores the value of self-critical narratives in Japanese media. While many productions cater to domestic audiences and reinforce a positive national image, some have broken these constraints to confront uncomfortable historical truths. These works illustrate that addressing Japan’s wartime actions need not weaken its national identity; instead, such narratives humanize Japan, foster goodwill, and enhance its moral authority.
By engaging with its broader wartime legacy and acknowledging the experiences of victims in Japanese-occupied territories, Japan has an opportunity to transcend hihaisha ishiki (victim consciousness). This shift could bolster Japan’s international standing, improve regional relationships, and provide a more ethically nuanced and comprehensive representation of its history.
The imperative for inclusive war memory
This study examined the underrepresentation of Filipino victims in Japanese visual media, shedding light on how selective memory practices shape national identity and influence international relations. The findings reveal that crimes committed by the Japanese army in Asia, particularly in the Philippines, remain marginalized. Indeed, the mere existence of other Asian peoples is often omitted in what has been described as a hermetically sealed, all-Japanese world. This narrative bias reflects broader socio-political dynamics, including the prioritization of domestic audiences and the perpetuation of a collective memory that leans heavily toward victimization.
Some may argue that it is natural for Japanese media, produced primarily for domestic audiences, to prioritize narratives that affirm a positive national image. However, this rationale overlooks the potential benefits of critical representations in humanizing Japan and fostering deeper international understanding. As exemplified by productions such as The Last Friends (1995), confronting uncomfortable historical truths does not harm Japan’s image. Instead, it can enhance its moral authority and strengthen diplomatic ties, fostering reconciliation with Asian nations such as the Philippines.
Others contend that studying the distortion of the past in a single society is futile, as all nations reshape their histories to emphasize victimhood and heroism while downplaying wrongdoing. I counter that, just as analyzing the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic in a specific population offers insights into a global pandemic; examining the origins and evolution of nationalist narratives in one society can illuminate the broader “pandemic” of global nationalism. This study, therefore, seeks not only to expose the selective processes of collective memory within Japan but also to contribute to a deeper understanding of how nationalist discourses evolve and are perpetuated globally.
Seen through the lens of the politics of memory, the underrepresentation of Filipino victimhood in Japanese visual media is part of a broader process in which wartime narratives are selectively constructed and passed on to sustain prevailing national identities. In such contexts, the choice of which stories are told and which are left untold reflects deliberate decisions and structural conditions that shape collective understanding of the past.
Addressing this imbalance requires sustained international collaboration. Without proactive advocacy, countries such as the Philippines risk seeing their histories pushed to the margins, even in the context of amicable relations with Japan. Building more inclusive narratives will depend on Philippine historians, cultural producers, and activists working in partnership with progressive Japanese intellectuals and civil society groups. Such collaborations can create shared spaces where Filipino perspectives are not an afterthought, but a vital part of a transnational practice of remembering the war. In this spirit, future research could turn to Philippine-produced films and television, enabling a comparative study of how both Filipino and Japanese media construct wartime narratives and portray Filipino victimhood.
Acknowledgements
This research was partially supported by a Grant-in-Aid for Japan Society for the Promotion of Science (JSPS) Fellows (KAKENHI grant no. 24KF0061), “A Qualitative and Quantitative Approach to Visual Media Representing the Asia-Pacific War” (2024–2026), hosted at Osaka University.
Financial support
This research was supported by JSPS KAKENHI grant no. 24KF0061, “Qualitative and Quantitative Approaches to Visual Media Representing the Asia-Pacific War,” hosted at Osaka University.
Competing interests
The author declares no competing interests.
Author Biography
Esteban Córdoba Arroyo is a postdoctoral scholar-fellow at the Division of Contemporary Japanese Studies, Osaka University, funded by the Japan Society for the Promotion of Science (JSPS). His research focuses on memory studies, media studies, and historical narratives in East Asia, with particular attention to Sino-Japanese relations. He holds a PhD and an MA in integrated sciences for global society from Kyushu University, and a BA in journalism from the International University of the Americas, Costa Rica. His current project, funded by the Grants-in-Aid for Scientific Research (KAKEN), examines visual media representations of the Asia-Pacific War in Japanese films from 1945 to 2025.
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