Rumi Sakamotothe later, more overtly nationalistic popular cultural expressions associated with the post-1990s
neo-nationalist sensibility, to which we will now turn.
The question of what is being “remembered” in popular culture is embedded in the social
context. With the bursting of the bubble economy in the early 1990s and the economic reces-
sion that followed, Japan has seen the rise of new generation nationalists who embrace a brand
of historical revisionism designed to establish national pride by reinterpreting Japan’s modern
history. The recession and the subsequent neoliberal restructuring and precariatization of young
people destroyed the economic pride many had once felt, and the resulting social anxiety was
displaced with a desire for a strong Japan and past national glory. This also coincided with an
increased emphasis on Japan’s war responsibility over issues such as the Yasukuni Shrine, “com-
fort women,” and the Nanjing Massacre, as well as Chinese and Korean demands for apologies
and reparations. Compounded by territorial disputes over the Dokdo/Takeshima Islands with
Korea and more recently the Diaoyutai/Senkaku Islands with China, and continuing secu-
rity concerns over North Korea and the rising China threat, Japanese public discourse in the
twenty-first century has visibly shifted to the right.
Reflecting this wider context of neo-nationalism and historical revisionism, popular cul-
ture in this period began to display some patriotic reinterpretations of the war. While during
the earlier period the war typically served as a context for sentimental stories about innocent
families, women, and children, the new-generation war narratives glorify self-sacrifice, loyalty,
and the commitment of Japanese military men in predominantly homosocial settings. This is
seen, for example, in a small but recognizable corpus of films that appeared at the turn of the
century, which were sympathetic towards patriotic and revisionist interpretations of the war.
Pride (1998) re-examines Tojo Hideki—the wartime prime minster who was hanged as a Class
A war criminal—and challenges the Tokyo Tribunal and its “victor’s justice.” Yamato (2005),
For Those We Love (2007), and The Eternal Zero (2013) all tell stories of “special attack” sui-
cide missions. Using stylized anguish and dramatic death scenes, these films construct Japanese
military men as tragic heroes who had made meaningful self-sacrifices. They also all emphasize
the continuity between the war generation and the postwar generations by using retrospective
narratives, where postwar narrators reflect on and appreciate wartime sacrifice.
Framing a war story within a contemporary story—in particular, stories of grandchildren
setting out to find the truth about their grandfathers who fought in Japan’s war—is a common
technique in revisionist-nationalist films, manga, and entertainment novels. Typically a young
narrator/protagonist starts with little knowledge of, or interest in, Japan’s past; but as they learn
about their grandfathers and Japan’s history, these children of the postwar generations begin to
appreciate the self-sacrifice made by Japanese soldiers, feel national pride, and gain a renewed
sense of purpose and meaning in their own, otherwise mundane lives. War is represented not
as something that is incongruous with today’s affluent, pacifist Japan, but as a foundation for
the present, a source for inspiration, and a lesson for young Japanese on the values of integrity,
dignity, and altruism.
Neo-nationalist desires for a strong Japan and a retelling of the war are also found in the
genre of fantasy war chronicles that became popular in the 1990s. They tell alternative histories
of the war in a variety of media forms such as film, anime, manga, OVA, games, and fiction.
Silent Service, Deep Blue Fleet, Jipangu, Lolerei, Aegis, and Samurai Commando, for example, were all
adapted in multiple media forms during the 1990s and early 2000s. Not bound by real history,
they incorporate fictional characters, time travel, and imaginary weapons to tell, for example, an
alternative story of the Asia-Pacific War with the present day Self-Defense Forces sent back in
time. If the recurring image of nuclear apocalypse in Japanese popular culture indicates com-
pulsive repetition of the trauma of nuclear victimhood, current fantasy war chronicles and their