The Rape of Nanking-Book Review

In this book about 20th century China, original sin shows our desperate need for God-birthed civility.

Shock value, or the weight of the truth? Either way, Iris Chang’s thoroughly researched book on what she calls “The Forgotten Holocaust of World War II” floors the reader with the brutal impact of the Japanese occupation of Nanking (now called Nanjing) in the 1930s. It’s important to know that Nanjing was the capital of the Chinese Nationalists, the faction that struggled against the Communists but eventually lost in 1949. The Japanese, who had planned to invade China for a long time, saw political unrest in young Chinese republic (founded in 1912) as the opportune moment to attack. The Nationalist army abandoned the city, and most civilians were either too weak, ignorant or poor to flee before the well trained Japanese army descended on the capital. I would say that what happened subsequently is beyond description, but Chang has described it all too well.

Chang chose the book’s title carefully, as if to alarm the reader that something unspeakable awaits within the pages. But no warning is adequate for the tragedy and horror Chang documents with gruesome imagery and relentless statistical evidence: By some estimates, over 300,000 were killed in a span of a few months. Chang’s description of the methodical and sadistic approach taken by the Japanese—with live burials, killing contests, beheadings—is almost too much to take in. But the sheer scale of the atrocities keeps driving the plot. As a reader, you’re drawn to continue, as though you’re not doing justice to the dead unless you trudge through the pages, remembering their story and vowing to ensure that these events never happen again.

Two of the most interesting parts to me were the beginning and end of the conflict. In a chapter called “The Road to Nanking,” Chang talks about how Japanese children were trained to demonize the Chinese from a young age. At the end, she discusses the trials of the Japanese leaders that either directly sanctioned their army’s behavior or failed to stop it. Justice was never served, and many of them have never served a day behind bars. Innocent young minds corrupted, while those who did the corrupting get off without proper punishment. Reading this book confirmed my belief in original sin. The stories within those pages shatter the argument that human nature is inherently good. Outside forces influence us, no doubt. But nurture alone can’t account for the unchecked evil that fell on Nanjing.

On the other hand, there are Chang’s heroes, those unlikely foreigners who show that despite humanity’s propensity toward evil, we don’t have to resort to a Lord of the Flies worldview. We can be civilized. We can regain dignity even in the most disgraceful of times. We can be like Jesus, serving our fellow men even at great risk to and in spite of ourselves.

John Rabe, ironically, was a German and a member of the Nazi party. He was chosen as one of the leaders of the Nanking Safety Zone, a few blocks of cityscape designated as a safe area for Chinese refugees. Rabe housed refugees at his own estate, and he was known for driving around the war-torn city, using his Nazi badge to stop rapes and killings in progress. Germany was Japan’s ally, and this strange authority gave him clout with the Japanese henchmen, allowing Rabe to save untold numbers of people. Interestingly, Rabe reportedly wrote letters to Hitler describing the atrocities and asking the fuhrer to end them.

Other foreigners helped as well. An American doctor performed surgeries for days on end. Another American woman protected her students at a women’s college. All in all, Chang estimates that more than 200,000 people were saved as a result of the efforts in the safety zone. Although the soldiers rarely honored its boundaries, a team of less than 20 foreigners was able to somehow feed and protect refuges from all over the city and the countryside.

In the end, Chang has told compelling story, but not one with a neat resolution. In a crystal clear picture of sin running rampant, there is no silver lining. Sin is messy, and when it takes control, there is only the melancholy legacies of lives senselessly ruined and the faint hope that somehow nations and people will learn from the transgressions of the past. If the 1930s and 40s taught us anything, they taught us that the days are evil. We need something—Someone—outside of us to keep the world spinning. May we continually pray for grace, because Chang’s book proves that if He gives us over to our own desires, there is no limit to the pain we can inflict on one another.

Why We Can’t Afford to Boycott China

Angered over continued human rights abuses throughout China, a Congressman from California recently drafted a resolution recommending that the United States boycott the 2008 Summer Olympic Games in Beijing to send a message to the communist nation that the United States is “a country, not just an economy.”

What he means, of course, is that we shouldn’t let our precarious financial situation with China dictate our stance on issues that involve human livelihood. His is a noble and well-intentioned goal, and I agree that with great power comes great responsibility. Our nation shouldn’t be soft with those that show no regard for human rights, but I don’t believe the Congressman is seeing the whole picture.

In 2006 we had a trade deficit with China of a little over $232 billion, and while we spend our money like a drunken sailor, as my boss says, China has bought more and more of our currency and steadily depressed the real value of the yuan. For the past 10-15 years, American companies have increasingly moved manufacturing operations to China for the mounds of human capital and cheap labor. As a result, we have become inextricably intertwined with the most populous country on the planet, and maintaining good terms in that bi-lateral relationship will be important to the world’s stability and our livelihood. Last year, one of my professors told me that a sudden adjustment of the currency imbalance could severely harm our economy. Although China probably wouldn’t go that route—to hurt our economy would impact theirs significantly—it might be chance they are willing to take if relations deteriorate substantially.

A historical glance at 20th century China reveals another component that is possibly a more compelling reason to buddy up with China: Slowly but surely, China is opening, and with increased involvement on the world stage comes a greater demand for transparency in government dealings. When talking to the Chinese people, I’ve confirmed the stereotype that they are not known for their brazen openness. Unlike Americans, they’re very indirect in discussing their emotions, and it takes time to break down the wall and really get inside their heads. The government’s like that too, I think. It fears exposure, because exposure means vulnerability, and vulnerability threatens control.

It started in 1979, three years after Mao Zedong’s death and one year after the United States decided to recognize the People’s Republic over Taiwan as the one true China. The country was still recovering from Mao’s disastrous Cultural Revolution and Great Leap Forward campaigns when Deng Xiaoping first visited the U.S. to lay the international groundwork for what would become known as gaige kaifang: Reform and Opening. Since then, our relationship with the Asian juggernaut, though fraught with setbacks, has dramatically improved. Although egregious human rights violations continue, the fact that we know about them and actually care is a result of our active involvement in China’s development. At least on the surface, China is making changes to appease foreigners, a strange dynamic in the land where the Boxer Rebellion and Cultural Revolution (two bloody campaigns against all things foreign) took place. To boycott the Olympics now would be disastrous. It would be our “Great Leap Backward” and would all but nullify hard-fought progress we’ve made over the past 30 years.

Besides, maybe a crackdown on human rights isn’t so bad in the grand scheme of things. You’ll probably say I should tell that to the families of those who suffer. But maybe government repression is evidence that, like a cornered viper, a Party that once ruled with support from the people is lashing out as a last-ditch effort against encroaching capitalism.

Just the other day, I sat down with an expert from Beijing who is in charge of all English publications having to do with the Olympic games. A deputy editor at the state-funded China Daily newspaper, he will work for two years in all translating Chinese documents to English for the International Olympic Committee and English to Chinese for his government. This is his fourth trip to the U.S., a personal journey to visit his daughters who work in Atlanta and Los Angeles. Ironically, we met at Starbucks, and we talked about the fact that a franchise was recently removed from the Forbidden City because it was “too American” and “not harmonious” with the Chinese cultural relics surrounding it.

I found that statement interesting on a variety of levels. For one, the fact that he used the word “harmonious” showed that the Communist Party is still kicking. Building a “harmonious society” has been President Hu Jintao’s catch phrase for the past year or two, and the terminology has trickled down even to newspaper editors. Secondly, when I was in the Forbidden City last summer, I noticed that Coke is not too American to be prevalent inside in the emperor’s playground. I guess an imperialist franchise location is a bit more intrusive than a few plastic bottles that can be put out of sight after they’ve sucked in foreign money.

The way the conversation started, I was skeptical. I thought I had a seasoned communist propagandist on my hands, and I braced myself for a long and unproductive discussion. But as he sipped his grande-sized latte, he answered my questions with surprising openness. When I asked about China Daily’s ability to be unbiased in China, he looked tired and said this was a hard question to answer. “I gave this answer when I started 20 years ago: It’s an official newspaper,” he said. “Twenty years later I give you the same answer: It’s an official newspaper, but we try our best to be objective.” Because the newspaper is state-funded, it’s hard to be independent, in the same way that American publications are often limited by their advertisers, he told me.

With regard to human rights, he was even more vocal. I didn’t reveal that I on my four trips to China I have been detained at border stations, kicked out of towns and interrogated by the police on numerous occasions. I didn’t need that leverage to get a straight answer. He mentioned criticisms about Falun Gong, the crisis in Darfur and China’s investment in Sudan, the situation in Tibet and China’s punishment of democracy advocates. “I cannot say that all these criticisms are wrong, because they have their reasons,” he said. “But I can say that China is doing the best it can.”

While I have my doubts about that statement, and Congressman Rohrabacher would certainly disagree, the expert gave me indelible evidence of the improved relations between our countries as we walked outside to say our goodbyes. The asphalt was blacker than usual, wet from a flash thunderstorm that had soaked me as I came in. In the eastern sky toward my home, charcoal clouds threatened to drop more water on the drought-dried city. I jogged to the car to get a business card. Coming back, I handed it to the expert with both hands, thanking him for his time. I waved goodbye to his wife and the two Chinese-Americans that had arranged our meeting. When we locked hands, he looked at me with sincerity in his eyes. “When you come to Beijing, you are welcome to my home.” I thanked him. He grasped my hand tighter.

Beijing jian, he said. See you in Beijing.

Photo: Mountain in Guizhou province, by Trevor Williams

Access Granted

When I entered college I knew I liked to write, but I never thought I would become a reporter. Sometimes I still don't think I fit the mold. I am naturally curious, but on the other hand, my curiosity hasn't given me the intrusiveness that a journalist sometimes needs to have. I'm personable, but I'm not that outgoing, so approaching people I barely know is not my forte. I don't like the idea of becoming the snoopy journalist who rids himself of decency in the name of "getting the story."

That's where my job is cool. As a small, international business publication, GlobalAtlanta's philosophy is to build relationships through reporting. In other words, I'm responsible for getting an accurate story, but incumbent in that responsibility is facilitating a healthy relationship with and between businesspeople. As a result, I've been able to meet a number of important people on good terms. Here's a small, non-comprehensive list of the people I've had access to because I'm a member of the press:

-Lee Tae-Sik-Ambassador of Korea to the United States, who is starting a tour of the U.S. to promote a controversial U.S.-Korea Free Trade Agreement. He does not know if or when Congress will vote on the proposal.

-Rajmah Hussain-Ambassador of Malaysia to the United States, whom I met at a Malaysian Gala last weekend. There I met Chef Zam, Malaysia's "Emeril" who has been featured on the U.S.' Food Network. I also got to know the youngest Malaysian ever to climb Everest, a 25-year-old who calls himself Qobain.

-Qiao Hong-Chinese consul general in Houston, Texas, who visited Atlanta shortly after assuming her position.

-TobyMac-Christian rocker who is a former member of the band DC Talk.

And the less-known subjects: An Atlantan opening a Jamaican restaurant in China, representatives from Japan and Nigeria's chambers of commerce in Atlanta, businesswomen from the Middle East, and others.

I'm grateful that God who, knowing my disdain for the mundane, saw fit to give me a job where each day is different and I get to continually feed my interest in international affairs. I've always wanted to have a global impact and in some small way, I feel like I'm doing that now.

He’s Alive. Believe it.

And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men. 1 Corinthians 15:17-19

Today I stumbled upon the 1998 statement of faith of one of the main denominations of the American church. As I was perusing the pages of the tiny tract, I reached the page that showed the denomination’s foundational beliefs about salvation. Buried in high language about the spiritual regeneration, sanctification, and glorification of the redeemed, I found the underlying message: To achieve saving faith, the sinner must “accept Christ” and “(commit) the entire personality to him as Lord and Saviour.” I thought about those words and realized that I as a Christian sometimes have a hard time figuring out what they mean.

I read on, thinking that such a definitive document would eventually put in plain terms the meaning of the Gospel and the way to faith. I only found more spiritual jargon. Having grown up in church, I was able to decipher its meaning, but that was all right. This book was written for believers by believers. But knowing that almost made it more offensive when I reached the end of the litany of spiritual truths and the words “cross” and “resurrection” were nowhere to be found. “Blood” made it, but only as an abstract concept. As I thought about it more, I began to wonder: Do we really know what it means to be saved?

The resurrection was the central doctrine of the early church. Paul said that if Christ has not been raised, then our faith is in vain and we are to be pitied above all men. Peter, when preaching at Pentecost, pointed the accusatory finger at the Jews, saying out loud what everyone knew to be true: You killed him, Joseph put him in a tomb, but he’s no longer there. And if that’s not enough, I’ve seen him with my own eyes. Thomas called Jesus “my Lord and my God” when he felt the wounds in Jesus’ hands and side.

Over and over in the Book of Acts, the apostles preach the Resurrection. Why? Because it is where the power of God comes from in our lives. Since Jesus didn’t stay on the cross and the grave could not hold him, we know that he has done what is necessary to take care of our sin (the cross) and the penalty for it (death and the grave). Because Christ has raised, we know we will be raised, and that assurance leads to a fearless life that is based on trusting Christ rather than just accepting him.

Granted, we are not eyewitnesses like the apostles, but faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see (Hebrews 11:1). And if we can hold onto the bold truth that God’s power turned the system of life and death upside down, we will retain a dynamic and forceful spiritual life.

I believe that the authors of this treatise assumed a certain amount of prior knowledge in their readers. They meant well, and I think that their term “accept” encompasses the full belief in the Lord’s suffering and resurrection. But the fact that it is not expressly stated as it is so many times throughout the New Testament (Romans 10:9-10, for example) highlights a problem with the way we often try to bring people into the faith.

Yes, we must believe these tenets in our minds, and it doesn’t hurt to say a sinner’s prayer. But in the end, we must be clearer about the fundamental truths of Christianity. I can tacitly “accept” Christ’s ideas without ever truly loving him, and I can believe he is Lord without ever really trusting him. I can “commit my personality” to him without ever really knowing him. In the end, what matters is that I believe the tenets of the Word, and beyond that, I cease my striving, resting in his Resurrection as the means by which I become a new creation.

I am no longer my own. I am his. I am no longer a slave to sin. I am a slave to righteousness. I am no longer a child of the Devil. I am a child of God. I was dead in sin, but God made me alive in Christ through his own resurrection. Resting in his righteousness is much more than an intellectual pursuit, and likewise, it is more than spiritual jargon.

The Gospel is a mystery. As we seek to save the lost, let us not omit power for the sake of simplicity.

Robocop’s Lament

The sad but true story of how traffic robots embody non-human law enforcement’s turn for the worse.

You saw the trilogy a few decades ago. You know, the one with that futuristic tin can of a humanoid with the slitted red visor coming down over his eyes and the stony jawbone that never so much as hinted at a smile. He was Robocop, and he had the circuitry in all the right places. He fought crime without ever losing his stainless steel glint, and I think he even made it through three movies before being relegated to the scrap heap, retiring on an island somewhere with the likes of the Terminator and the washed-up mechas from the movie AI.

He might be gone, along with most everything else that was in style back in the late 80s and early 90s, but I assure you, Robocop is turning over in his rusty grave as we speak.

Although I have to confess that I’ve never actually seen any of his movies, Robocop doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would hide out in an alley and trip you when you walk by. He seems like the kind of robot that would man up, stopping you as you commit the crime and confronting you with an arm cannon and flint-like jaw that says ‘I dare you’ even without showing any hint of expression.

Sadly, Robocop’s descendants have brought shame upon his name and upon the legacy of all metalhead crime fighters. They have abandoned all honor, perfecting the art of ambush like it’s some sort of adaptive survival method. But in fact, humans have largely gotten over their fear that robots are going to take over the world, and robot/human relations are the best they’ve ever been. There are now soccer-playing robots, industrial robots, even robot pharmacists making appearances at Atlanta hospitals. Humans are turning to robots like never before, even to vacuum homes and clean floors. We can only wonder how the biggest abomination of all—the Traffic Cop Robot—can come from the same evolutionary line as those that have proved so useful.

Traffic Cop Robots are the black sheep, the loose screws, the stray wires of the robot world, and they’re taking their frustration out on Arizona drivers. They’re Maricopa County’s invisible mafia. Before you even know what hit you, their photographic, scientific, motion sensor evidence has you going 41 in a 30, no sympathetic policeman to cry to, and a $162 fine you can’t defend in court because you’re almost 2,000 miles away. A slick scheme to be sure, especially when they target honeymooners who are on their way to the airport to leave their sorry state! (How do I know? Because to rub it in, they even recorded the exact time of the “offense” and showed it to me on the statement they mailed to me more than a month later).

For shame, for shame. What would the valiant Robocop say to such underhanded law enforcement tactics?

Note: For clarity’s sake, I should say that this is NOT the simple case of a red light enforcement camera. These robots clock your speed, snap a photo of your tag and get your mugshot all at the same time. I wish I could show you the picture; you can clearly see that it’s me. Begs the question: If I’m going so fast, how do you have time to get such a clear shot of my face?

Foot-in-Mouth Disease Strikes Atlanta

Patient resists recommended treatment

ATLANTA—
A Decatur man showed symptoms of the common but deadly foot-in-mouth disease at an Atlanta apartment yesterday, prompting officials to quarantine him from all those who might be offended by his indiscriminate comments.

The first signs of the disease showed up when Trevor Williams, 22, made jokes about an undisclosed segment of the Atlanta citizenry, sparking resentment from a man he had just met who had many friends belonging to the group under verbal attack.

Williams, a news reporter, should be well aware of the effects of insensitive comments, but he still let them slip. According to sources at the scene, the words were relatively mild, but their venom was in the ignorance with which they were uttered.

When asked about his alleged illness and how he would try to fight the disease, Williams only offered a cynical and evasive reply.

“Well, at least I didn’t say anything really bad,” he said, appealing to the same comparison argument that many Christians have used to defend shoddy actions, a treatment plan which spiritual doctors have said only drives the foot farther down toward the trachea.

In reality, Williams had stooped to a low level by failing to heed of a biblical word of wisdom he had so readily recited during his college years and even back in high school.

In his dorm room and with his group of Bible study partners, Williams said this New Testament verse used to give him some sort of immunity to the virus, which infects 100 percent of human beings at some point in their adult lives.

“We recited Ephesians 4:29, which says ‘Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouth, but only what is helpful for building up those in need, so that it may benefit all who listen,’” Williams said, grunting words in between the toes that remain lodged near his tonsils.

That verse has not fallen from his mind, he said, but it had been largely out of use in his daily life, which hindered his immune system and left him susceptible to the virus.

When considering what type of treatment to pursue, Williams has been torn. He said he thought about apologizing to the offended party, thinking that a simple ‘I’m sorry’ might put the comments to rest and allow him to stop tasting toe jam.

But after thinking further, he decided a trite apology might just add insult to injury.

Doctors have prescribed treatment, but they say that Williams’ heart is “wicked beyond measure,” and he won’t take medication regularly.

“We’ve told Trevor that if he confesses his sins, God is faithful and just to forgive him and cleanse him from all unrighteousness” and disease, said First John, the physician presiding over the Williams case. “Whether he heals is a matter of whether he will subject himself to the Master Physician’s recommended treatment regimen.”

When this article went to press, Williams was just beginning to squeak out the words, “I confess.”

Baseball Trip 3-Sweet Caroline

I hate New York sports franchises. Can't name one that I like. And I reserve a special disdain in my heart for New York baseball teams, having watched the Yankees purchase their way to four world titles in the nineties while the Braves managed a measly one. But living in the worst city for professional sports in the U.S. (Atlanta) I was refreshed at what I saw after bribing, sneaking and fibbing my way into Shea Stadium to catch the last two innings of their contest with the Diamondbacks.. Even though they're the Braves' division rivals and they wear the same colors as the Florida Gators, I had more fun in two innings at a Mets game than nine at the Nationals. Love 'em or hate 'em, New Yorkers at least give a hoot about their sports teams, as this video will attest.

Are you crazy?

Martin Luther often paced around his room at night, when the lights were out and the devil’s voice began to torment him. He would speak out loud to his enemy, scorning him for introducing thoughts of silence and comfort when a loud, gritty resilience was necessary to uphold the Reformation he had begun. At least according to the movie released a few years ago (I don’t claim to be an expert on church history), Luther was rough around the edges, dissatisfied with the status quo, and ruthlessly loyal to the God of the scriptures. Was he sane? Probably not, but sanity, by necessity, could not be a prerequisite for a mission that would pit a lowly monk against the Roman church.

John the Baptist was a man’s man, a desert dweller with a camelhair cloak and a thick leather belt. He lived off the land, and despite his disheveled look and his affinity for bugs, people revered him as a prophet. His wild voice called for repentance amid a chorus of civilized, Pharisaical voices screaming righteousness over grace and ritual over reconciliation. He was the courier for the Messiah, the messenger of the one to come, and his mission was not one of appeasement. He knew his Lord from the time he was in the womb, and even though he had his doubts, he steadfastly proclaimed the word of God even in the face of the religious establishment of the day.

These men are not the tame, silent little believers we have come to respect in this day and age. In fact, their tactics and words may seem offensive, bordering on repulsive at times. But they had these things in common: they were as fiercely devoted to Christ as they were unconventional in their methods, and both prepared the way for the grace of Christ to overshadow the empty religious practices of their time.

One of my mentors once told me that to do anything for God, you have to be a little bit messed up in the head. The more I read the Bible and study the people I admire in the faith, the more I believe that it’s true. Are you crazy enough to usher Jesus into your sphere of influence?

Photo: The sun goes down over the Dead Sea, in a desert region similar to the one John the Baptist looked at every night. By Trevor Williams.

The New Babel?

Dubai has all the signs of an economic powerhouse: breakneck growth, a sky-is-the-limit attitude and a tower under construction that might pierce the o-zone. But can the real estate market really support the city’s displays of pride?

In 1990, the coastal strip of land where the city of Dubai now sits was nothing but miles of sand dunes. But over the past 15-or-so years, the place has exploded with growth, becoming one of the most popular tourist destinations in the Middle East by displaying a penchant for the biggest and best.

As a country, the United Arab Emirates is only a little more than 30 years old, and Dubai is not even the country’s political or economic center. Abu Dhabi, the capital, takes both of those titles. There, the oil flows like wine, sustaining much of the country’s estimated $129 billion GDP in 2006. Although Dubai's economy was originally built on oil, production has declined, and the liquid gold only makes up about three percent of the city's GDP.

An emphasis on tourism and a service economy has increased in the past few years, the city government has liberalized its real estate policies to allow foreigners to own land on a “freehold” basis. Basically, foreigners can now have sole ownership of property for an indefinite period of time, whereas before they could only lease it for 99-year stints. The new policy makes sense in a country where only 20 percent of the population is native to the area. Surprisingly, about half the population in the UAE is South Asian, and those from East Asia and the West—those two regions who usually have their hands on everything—only make up eight percent of the population, according to the CIA World Factbook.

Of course, Dubai was developing its gaudy real estate portfolio before they enacted these new rules. The city is home to the Burj Al-Arab, a landmark hotel in more ways than one. The building sits on its own manmade island, and you can’t look at its signature sailboat shape without thinking of the Dubai skyline. Fitting to the Dubai mindset, the Burj Al-Arab sets the bar for luxury. Its posh suites, which range in price from $1,000-$15,000 per night, have earned it reputation as the only seven-star hotel in the world, and you have to shell out 80 bucks just to go in and take a look around.

Just across the harbor, back on the mainland, is the Kempinski Hotel. Next to the Burj Al-Arab, it looks quaint enough. But the inside is really cool. In fact, it’s cool enough to support a 400-meter indoor ski slope, complete with snow-blowers that keep you chillin’ at 30 degrees even when its 90 outside.

While both of the above seem hard to believe, Dubai is making some even more gargantuan developments that have me hearing echoes of Babel. Dubailand, a theme park that will boast six different “worlds,” including a sports complex that officials tout as Olympic-ready, will have twice the square footage of Disneyland and Disneyworld combined.

And if that’s not enough, the crown jewel is the Burj Dubai, a 2600-foot building that in its construction phase has already surpassed the Taipei 101 tower in Taiwan as the tallest building in the world. The tower will be its own little city, mixing retail space with skyline residences and the first Giorgio Armani hotel, along with untold other amenities.

All this opulence begs the question: Is Dubai going too far too fast? Can the city’s economy, which one of the realtors I met described as “fast and loose,” live up to the pledges its extravagant buildings are making?

Only time will tell, but I hope Dubai’s developments will fare better than the ancient tower built toward the heavens in that part of the world.

The research for this article came from interviews I did for my job at GlobalAtlanta, an Internet-based international business publication. Check out the original story here.