Monday, Dec. 16, 1957

The Traveler

Japan's lean little Prime Minister Nobusuke Kishi and the U.S.'s bulky rangy Secretary of State John Foster Dulles have one thing very much in common: they both like to travel. In the eleven months since he took over the premiership from aging, ailing Tanzan Isibashi, Kishi has set a dizzying pace. Last May he took off for a tour of six Southeastern Asian nations, followed up with a state visit to Washington. Last week Kishi was in the air again, this time on a tour of eight nations, including Australia and the Philippines. In all his travels Kishi has stressed three major themes: 1) Japan is sorry (for World War II), 2) Japan wants to help underdeveloped Asiatic nations with Japanese technical know-how, 3) Japan would be delighted to set up as the clearing house for a largely U.S.-financed $1 billion Asiatic development fund. Understandably enough, many of the nations Kishi singled out to benefit from these plans are suspicious that what the Japanese really have in mind is a revival, along economic rather than military lines, of Tojo's Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere.

Sticky Stop. Inevitably, the stickiest stop on Kishi's latest junket was Australia. Kishi, forewarned that anti-Japanese feeling is still strong, was nervous and uneasy. His hosts surrounded him with armed bodyguards. "Sacrilege," cried an official of the Returned Servicemen's League at an announcement that the Japanese Premier would lay a wreath at Australia's national war memorial, the Stone of Remembrance, in Canberra. But the league's president rejoined sternly: "We welcome the wreath laying as a respectful salute."

At a parliamentary luncheon (boycotted by some Australian Laborites who refused to mix socially with the Japanese), Prime Minister Robert Menzies proposed a toast to the Emperor of Japan. "Well," said one M.P. to an ex-P.W.: "I don't suppose you ever thought you'd drink to Hirohito's health when you were in that Jap prison camp in Malaya." The ex-P.W. grinned and drank his toast. Said Kishi later, in a forthright speech: "It is my official duty, and my personal desire, to express to you and through you to the people of Australia, our heartfelt sorrow for what occurred in the war." Kishi's apology made headlines across Australia.

Fluttering Flags. In Cambodia Kishi was welcomed with fluttering flags and welcome arches, agreed to extend $4,000,000 (in yen) in economic aid over a three-year period. In the crumbling Laotian capital of Vientiane, sarong-clad beauties pressed bouquets on Kishi, and Laotian government officials welcomed his offer of $4,000,000 in aid and technical assistance. In South Viet Nam's capital of Saigon, Kishi's reception was formal and cool. Saigon's politicians were miffed because 1) they hoped that Kishi would offer $150 million in reparations and help build a major dam for them, and he said not a word about it; 2) President Ngo Dinh Diem sees himself, not Kishi, as the spokesman of non-Communist Asia.

In Malaya, Kishi arranged for some large-scale student exchanges, in Singapore, confined himself to establishing good will and buying souvenirs. Indonesia's shambling chaos (see above) proved just the right milieu for Kishi. There he settled "the ten-year-old reparations argument on the spot on relatively favorable terms (some $230 million in cash, cancellation of Indonesia's $170 million trade debt, $400 million in economic assistance).

Back in Tokyo, after a two-day stopover in the Philippines and a heart-to-heart talk with newly elected President Carlos Garcia in Malacanan Palace, the peripatetic Premier settled down to assess his accomplishments. Despite the coolness of his reception at several stops, Kishi had gone a long way toward removing anti-Japanese bitterness in some important areas. Whether he had created any real enthusiasm for Japan as the industrial provider of non-Communist Asia was another question. But Kishi is a patient man, and he knows how to wait.

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