THE
DEFENSE OF GENERAL YAMASHITA
George
F. Guy*
George
F. Guy (1904-80) was one of the most distinguished attorneys
in the State of Wyoming of our era. In a long and distinguished
career at the bar (which included service in the Wyoming
Legislature, as Cheyenne City Attorney, and as Attorney
General of Wyoming from 1955-1957), the case which most
excited him was his participation in the defense of
Japanese General Tomoyuki Yamashita in 1945.
The
Yamashita case remains a milestone both in international
law and American constitutional law. Yamashita was accused
of violating the laws of war for failing to control
his troops for permitting them to commit atrocities.
He was convicted by an American military commission
and was sentenced to death. Petitions for habeas corpus
and for the writ of prohibition were rejected by the
Supreme Court of the Philippines. The Supreme Court
of the United States rejected similar petitions as well
as an appeal from the Philippine high court over the
passionate dissents of Justices Murphy and Rutledge.
General Yamashita went to the gallows on February 23,
1946. A generation later the Yamashita case proved relevant
to debates over the responsibility of the American command
for atrocities committed in Vietnam.
During
his defense of this Japanese General, "The Tiger
of Malaya,"1 which occurred during the height of
American resentment of Japanese conduct during the war,
George Guy came to respect General Yamashita and to
believe in his innocence. After the General's execution,
Guy maintained a close relationship with Yamashita's
family in Japan. A few years later, in 1950, Guy published
his account of the Yamashita defense in the Wyoming
Law Journal.
Almost
three and one-half decades after Yamashita's trial,
Guy, a conservative and deeply patriotic Republican,
related the story of the defense of the Japanese General
with deep feeling. The Associate Editor of this Yearbook
was privileged to spend an evening talking with Guy
about the case. His plan to convince Guy to return again
to the case in print with the perspective of three more
decades was frustrated by Guy's death on April 28, 1980,
at the age of seventy-five, the same day his daughter
Gina was admitted to the Bar of the Supreme Court of
the United States.
While
George Guy believed that the Supreme Court had erred
in handling the Yamashita case, his respect for the
Court was profound. In his memory, Guy's family has
given to the Supreme Court Historical Society the original
charge served upon Yamashita in Japanese and several
original photographs as well as a sketch of the way
the courtroom looked during the trial.
In lieu
of the article George Guy did not live to write, in
his memory, but more importantly because of its contribution
to the history of a celebrated case, the editors of
this Yearbook are republishing an edited
version of Guy's original article on the Yamashita case.
The original article can be found in 4 Wyoming
Law Journal beginning at page 153 in the Spring
1950 issue.
Jeffrey
B. Morris
_______________
After four
years, I still remember the blazing headlines of February
23, 1946; those big black headlines announcing: "YAMASHITA
DIES ON GALLOWS" . . . "YAMASHITA HANGS LIKE
COMMON CROOK" . . ."THE TIGER HANGS"
etc., etc. All across the nation they screamed,, yes
even across the world press they shouted the exultant
and triumphant message . . . "YAMASHITA DIES"
. . . But for those of us who had been assigned the
task of defending Tomoyuki Yamashita, General, Imperial
Japanese Army, for "violation of laws of war,"
for "failing to control his troops" and for
"permitting them to commit atrocities" . .
. February 23, 1946, was no day of triumph or exultation.
It was the final climax of the international drama that
had its opening scene in the mountains north of Baguio,
Luzon, Philippines, on September 3, 1945, when General
Yamashita, pursuant to the orders of his government,
surrendered himself and his remaining troops to the
American Army.
The front
cover of YANK FAR EAST, the American Army newspaper,
carried a full-length picture of Yamashita striding
down the mountain trail, followed by his staff and flanked
by the American doughboys against whom he had fought
so long and so bitterly. I remember his cheerfully autographing
copies of that YANK for me later in New Bilibid Prison
and I remember the description bestowed upon him by
my old friend, Lt. Col. (then Major) A.S. Kenworthy
of the Military Police. "Jack" Kenworthy had
made the official arrest of Yamashita and had furnished
the security and escort for him down from Baguio and
to New Bilibid and was later bailiff at the trial. When
I asked Jack, "What kind of guy is this Yamashita?"
. . . Jack looked at me and smiled a bit and said slowly,
"Well, George, you'd be surprised. He is quite
a character." This was some weeks before I had
any inkling that I would ever see Yamashita, let alone
assist in defending him.
I
It was about
October 1, 1945, when first indications were received
that I might be associated with the case. I had just
returned from Japan, where I had landed with Headquarters
8th Army, when Colonel Chas. C. Young, Staff Judge Advocate
to Lt. General Wilhelm D. Styer, Commanding General
of American Forces Western Pacific (AFWESPAC), informed
me that my name was being submitted with others as defense
counsel.2
I am sure
that the officers assigned to the defense approached
their task with uncertainty, concern and curiosity.
We had all seen the ravages and destruction in Manila
itself and many of us had seen similar sights out in
the provinces and in other cities in the Philippines.
We all knew that Yamashita was entitled to a defense,
but we all wondered, "Why does it have to be us?"
The war
was so recently over that it was difficult to regard
any Japanese other than as an enemy and it was particularly
difficult to regard the Commanding General of the Japanese
Forces in the Philippines as anything but the representative
of all that was repugnant and brutal and cruel and treacherous
in the Japanese system--as the prime standard bearer
of that inhuman power that had looted, burned, murdered
and raped Manila, the "Pearl of the Orient"
and her sister cities of the Philippines. Therefore,
it was indeed with mixed emotions, including no small
amount of curiosity, that we six, who had been appointed
as defense counsel, approached our task and our first
interview with our client at New Bilibid Prison, Muntinglupa
Province, Luzon, on October 4, 1945.
New Bilibid
Prison is about 25 miles south of Manila and the trip
was made in staff cars. The six defense counsel, accompanied
by WAC Sergeants Elizabeth Scholder of Los Angeles and
Arline Walker of Cleveland, Ohio, made up the group
that was ushered by the MPs into one end of the Prison
Chapel, the room that was to serve as our "conference
room" for that initial interview and for a number
of others. In a few minutes, General Yamashita, accompanied
by General Akiro Muto, his Chief of Staff, and General
U. Utunomiya, his Assistant Chief of Staff, and Mr.
Masakatsu Hamamoto, his Harvard-educated (Class of 1927)
interpreter, crossed the courtyard from their cell blocks
and entered the chapel. All of them stopped when inside
the doorway and turned toward the altar and bowed, and
then all turned toward us and bowed before coming all
the way into the room and to the benches which had been
set out for them. Colonel Clarke proceeded with the
introductions, which took some time because General
Yamashita neither spoke nor understood English. Generals
Muto and Utunomiya both spoke and understood English,
the latter quite well.
During all
this time, I studied Yamashita quite closely. He stood
about 5'7" tall and was clad in the gray-green
Japanese field uniform. He was a large man for a Japanese
but his clothes hung in folds on his body, he having
lost a very considerable amount of weight as a result
of the reduced diet upon which Japanese troops had been
subsisting during the last months of the Philippine
Campaign. His uniform tunic was adorned by the red cord
fourragere of the Japanese General Staff and with the
two lapel insignias of three gold stars each, the insignia
of a full General of the Emperor's Army. On his left
breast were rows of ribbons, the "lettuce"
that soldiers of all armies have worn since that clever
device of campaign ribbons was first invented by that
craftiest of soldiers, Napoleon himself. A pair of highly
polished boots, complete with gold spurs, completed
the ensemble. Little did I realize then that the gold
spurs were later to become my own possession as a gift
from the General on that fateful December 7, 1945, when
he was sentenced to die.
Our client
stood facing us, his peaked forage held in his large
hands. His figure was erect but not stiff and he acknowledged
each introduction with a little bow and in a rather
solemn manner, although there were traces of a smile
about the corners of his large mouth and his large brown
eyes brightened perceptibly as they rested in turn on
each of us. His head seemed to be unusually large, particularly
so for a Japanese, and the face was marked with heavy
lines. His neck was thick and bull like and the back
of his neck and head ran in almost a vertical line from
the white shirt collar which was turned down over his
tunic collar. The shirt collar was open, exposing the
full and deep throat. The nose was quite large and was
not flat as is true with so many Japanese, and perhaps
the most distinctive characteristic of the face was
the inordinately long upper lip. The eyes were deep
and expressive and without the usual Oriental slant.
The man's face so interested me that I determined then
and there to ask him to allow me to try to sketch him.
Opportunity for this did not come until November 18
when, during an interlude of a few hours on a Sunday
afternoon, General Yamashita did sit for me. It was
a hot afternoon and when I had taken about an hour to
do his face and head and, noticing that he was tired,
offered to call the whole thing off because I couldn't
sketch anyhow, he courteously insisted that I proceed.
This I did, and the completed sketch was finally autographed
by the subject himself. He politely suggested that he
would like to do another sometime, one that he might
keep or send to his wife, whom I had met while I was
in Japan. However, it seemed that chance never permitted
us the time to do a second one. Or perhaps, the Almighty--seeing
the first sketch, decided that no matter what Yamashita
might have done, he didn't deserve that fate
again!
We shortly
and quickly got down to the serious business at hand
and, working through Mr. Hamamoto, were soon in the
midst of the allegations of the charge against Yamashita:
"Tomoyuki
Yamashita, General Imperial Japanese Army, between 9
October, 1944, and 2 September, 1945, at Manila
and at other places in the Philippine Islands, while
commander of the armed forces of Japan at war with the
United States of America and its allies, unlawfully
disregarded and failed to discharge his duty as commander
to control the operations of the members of his command,
permitting them to commit brutal atrocities and other
high crimes against people of the United States and
of its allies and dependencies, particularly the Philippines;
and he, General TOMOYUKI YAMASHITA, thereby violated
the laws of war.
Dated 25
September, 1945
/s/ Alva
C. Carpenter
ALVA C.
CARPENTER
Colonel,
JAGD
United States
Army."
That charge
had been served on Yamashita a few days before by Captain
D.C. Hill,3 Wamego, Kansas, one of the Prosecution staff,
but it was not until this afternoon that Yamashita,
after conference with his counsel, had any real concept
or understanding of the nature of the charge against
him. At that very first moment of comprehension of the
full import of the charge, Tomoyuki Yamashita firmly
and solemnly maintained his innocence of such charge.
His position on the matter was unequivocal--"NOT
GUILTY"--on that day, on the day of his arraignment,
October 8, 1945, and throughout his trial and even on
the fateful night of February 23, 1946, when he mounted
the scaffold at Los Banos to pay with his life for the
crimes of his troops. His forthright manner, his candor
and his strength of character made a distinct impression
on me that first interview and those qualities continued
to impress me as time went on and as my contacts with
him became more frequent. I am confident that my associates
on the defense staff had the same impressions. This
confidence arises because men of the caliber of Colonel
Clarke, Lt. Colonels Feldhaus and Hendrix, and Captains
Reel and Sandberg, while they would have devoted sincere
effort to any case to which they would have been assigned,
would not, in my opinion, have exhibited the genuine
zeal and intense industry displayed in this case, had
they not felt these characteristics in General Yamashita
which are here described.
We all worked
steadily from the day of the initial interview until
October 8, 1945, the day of the arraignment. At the
arraignment, the charges were formally read to Yamashita,
who was present in the courtroom with his counsel. He
stood before Major General Russell B. Reynolds, the
President of the Commission, and announced loudly in
Japanese "Not guilty," when the charges had
been translated to him in his own tongue. The arraignment
was over in a few minutes and just 21 days later, on
October 29, 1945, the trial opened . . . a trial which
marked the first time in history that the United States
as a sovereign power had tried a General of a defeated
enemy nation for alleged war crimes. While no one on
either side said much about it, there was general unspoken
feeling that there indeed was something new in the ancient
field of law . . . that we were about to make law .
. . that here was stare decisis in its real
meaning, because it would build up another branch of
the law, the inexact science to which we were all devoted.
Colonel
Clarke, foreseeing the length of the battle ahead and
also its complexity and intensity, "departmentalized"
the defense. I was cast in the role of "liaison
man" between the Commission, the defense and any
and all other Army agencies with whom we might have
to deal. My first job was to secure a "headquarters"
for the defense. The Real Estate Section finally allocated
us a large two-story house at 1621 Taft Avenue, Manila.
This edifice was surrounded by a high stone wall and
permitted the secrecy essential in bringing so highly
sought after a person as Yamashita into the heart of
the city he was charged with having ravished. Doubtless,
there were thousands of Manilans who would have welcomed
the chance to take the law into their own hands had
the opportunity presented itself. I moved into the house
at 1621 Taft in order to be in constant touch with the
situation.
The great
mass of publicity that had grown up around the impending
trial and the proceedings already had convinced Colonel
Clarke that the defense, if possible, must disassociate
Yamashita from the extreme Japanese "Military Class."
By mid-October, it seemed that all of America, yes,
all of the Occidental world, not to mention all the
Philippines, believed firmly that all Japanese army
officers were "Samurai fanatics," "Greater
East Asia exponents," "Empire Imperialists,"
etc., whose hands dripped with blood of helpless and
innocent women and children. All Japanese officers were
regarded alike, regardless of what individual records
might be. In the case of Yamashita, the popular concept
was even darker and bloodier, because he was commonly
referred to in the press of the world as "The Tiger
of Malaya." This appellation gave rise to the popular
picture of Yamashita as the Japanese conqueror who raged
down the Malayan Peninsula like a roaring tiger, devouring
and destroying as he went. (Incidentally, Yamashita
described the Malayan campaign to me in great detail
one day in most interesting fashion.) By virtue of this
press buildup, Yamashita was already convicted in the
eyes of the world, and certainly in the eyes of the
Filipinos, even before a shred of evidence had been
introduce against him. I fear that a great majority
of American military personnel in the Philippines was
satisfied, from this mass of publicity, that Yamashita
was guilty of anything that might be said of him.
Under such
conditions, and with the trial held in Manila, the very
center and vortex of these swirling animosities and
predetermined public concepts of guilt, the task confronting
the defense seemed enormous indeed. On October 20, Colonel
Clarke assigned me to the mission of obtaining and developing
character evidence on behalf of the accused. I was particularly
charged with the task of obtaining evidence as to Yamashita's
life, his history, his background, his family, and--most
important of all--his military career. I thereupon entered
into numerous conferences with him and with Generals
Muto and Utonomiya concerning these important elements.
With the basic information thus obtained, and with a
list of names of persons to see in Japan, I flew to
Tokyo on October 25th (and remained two weeks).
I spent
all the day and many evening hours at the task and managed
to keep two Japanese army interpreters busy all the
time. We also made one trip outside Tokyo to Maguoka
to interview General Kazunari Ugaki, who had twice been
War Minister and who had once been Foreign Minister
of Japan.4
General
Ugaki had been in political eclipse for some ten years
because of his liberal ideas and his belief that Japan's
destiny lay in understanding and cooperating with the
Western powers and in avoiding aggression and in terminating
the "China Incident." He firmly believed that
General Yamashita could not have been guilty of complicity
in the Philippine atrocities.
When the
time came for the presentation of the character evidence,
we arranged for seven witnesses to be flown from Japan
and appear before the Commission to testify on behalf
of General Yamashita. Among there were:
Colonels
Hiruimu Hosoda and Nobutake Takayama, who had served
under Yamashita when the latter had headed the Japanese
Army Military Mission to Germany from January to June,
1941;
Mr. Keichoku
Yoshida, a prominent Tokyo lawyer who had been a close
friend for many years;
Mr. Shigesmasa
Sunada, a lawyer and for 24 years a member of the Japanese
Diet, and who had served under Yamashita in Malaya as
legal advisor on civil affairs.
In addition,
the defense also introduced statements sworn to by General
Masataka Yamawaki of the Imperial Japanese Army, and
by General Yoshijior Umezu, Chief of the Imperial General
Staff of the Japanese Army. General Umezu was one of
the signers of the Japanese surrender on the deck of
the battleship Missouri, and was a defendant
before the International Military Tribunal Far East
in Tokyo but died prior to the conclusion of that trial.
The testimony
of all was to the same general effect--that Yamashita
had never been a "political" general, that
he had earned his high rank by sheer efficiency, that
he was not a Samurai, that he was not of the extremist
military group, that he opposed war with the Western
powers, and that he had always had a reputation for
fairness for being a firm and strong disciplinarian.
One of the most significant facts which emerged from
the character testimony as a whole was the uniform statement
of all witnesses that Yamashita was definitely out of
favor with General Tojo and the "military extremists.
II
The trial
before the Military Commission was no trial in the ordinary
sense of the term--a criminal trial with a judge, learned
in law, sitting as the trier of questions of law and
with a jury sitting as the trier of questions of fact
of the evidence presented to it within the usual rules
of admissibility as determined by the judge. The Military
Commission which tried General Yamashita had no "judge
learned in the law" sitting with it. True, one
of the officers was designated as "law member,"
but he is not a lawyer and is not "learned in the
law" and not a member of the legal profession.
The Commission as a whole--that is, the five members,
all Generals--sat also as a jury in determining the
facts as presented. The Rules of Evidence were especially
prepared for this trial. They provided numerous exceptions
to the usual safeguards thrown about accused persons
in criminal or military proceedings. A clear exception,
for example, was made in the case of hearsay evidence.
One of the basic rules of our law of evidence for hundreds
of years has been the hearsay rule: i.e., a witness
cannot testify as to what someone else told him. This
was entirely eliminated in the Yamashita rules. Under
this elimination, hearsay was freely accepted as were
statements of absent and even unidentified persons.
These rules also permitted the introduction of diaries
of Japanese troops and enemy orders found on the battlefield
without identification of the authors or the units to
which they belonged. All of these were unquestionably
inadmissible under the usual rules of evidence. The
defense vigorously contested these rules and carried
that part of the fight into the Supreme Court of the
Philippines and finally into the Supreme Court of the
United States itself.
The trial
opened on October 29th, and the final arguments were
not concluded until December 5, 1945. The Commission
was in session every day during this period, with the
exception of Sundays and one or two Saturdays, from
8:30 to 11:30 and from 1:30 to 5:30. The proof of murder,
torture, rape, and maltreatment of thousands of Filipinos
and of hundreds of Americans and of some scores of other
nationalities; was clear and overwhelming. These outrages
occurred at points in the Philippines from Bataan Island
north of Luzon itself to Davao in southern Mindanao.
There is no denying that Japanese personnel indulged
in the most revolting outrages and in some instances,
seemed to conduct their activities on almost an organized
basis with officers and noncoms directing the activities.
The Japanese personnel involved were variously identified
as Navy, Army and Merchant Marine, but there is no doubt
that the atrocities complained of did occur. Witness
after witness testified to these crimes until tales
of horror, death, mutilation, starvation, maltreatment,
and abuse became almost commonplace. The defense consistently
fought back with every possible weapon at its disposal.
Cross-examination of the prosecution witnesses was conducted,
for the most part, by either Captain Reel or Captain
Sandberg. In many, many instances, their effective questioning
brought forth the fact that the witness had been engaged
in guerilla activities in one way or another, giving
the inference, at least, that the treatment the witnesses
had suffered at the hands of the Japanese was just punishment
by the Japanese because the law of war has universally
recognized that a guerrilla is an illegal fighter and,
when captured, is not entitled to the rights and protection
usually afforded a prisoner of war.
The most
significant point made by the defense was that throughout
the great mass of prosecution testimony and evidence,
there was not one word or one shred of credible evidence
to show that General Yamashita ever ordered the commission
of even one of the acts with which he was charged or
that he ever had any knowledge of the commission of
any of these acts, either before they took place, or
after their commission.
At the conclusion
of the prosecution's case, the defense made a motion
for a finding of "Not guilty" on the ground
generally that there was no proof of any kind to connect
Yamashita with what did happen. This motion was over-ruled
and the defense was directed to proceed with its evidence.
A defense motion for continuance, based upon an indication
given at the time the trial opened that such continuance
would be granted at the close of the prosecution's case,
was denied. Thereupon the defense evidence was presented.5
Numerous
witnesses testified for the defense. I have already
detailed the "character evidence" because
that was the portion of the defense with which I was
particularly charged. General Muto, Yamashita's Chief
of Staff, was perhaps the most important defense witness,
aside from the accused himself. Muto had been Chief
of Staff in Sumatra and did not arrive in the Philippines
until about October 20, 1944, or at the time of the
initial American assault on Leyte. He, like his commander,
had never served in the Philippines and he didn't even
know where Leyte was! General Muto had had a long record
in the Japanese army and was a most capable officer.6
He testified in considerable detail as to the difficulties
confronting Yamashita upon his assuming command. He
positively testified that never at any time had Yamashita
ordered the commission of any atrocities against the
Filipinos or anyone else. There never had been any prosecution
evidence that such orders had been given, but
any inference of their having been given or having been
condoned was certainly effectively refuted by General
Muto's testimony. As Chief of Staff, he was certainly
in a position to have known of any such orders being
given or of any information of such atrocities that
might have reached his Commander.
Numerous
other Japanese officers testified as to various elements
involved in the specifications of the charge, and in
answer to the prosecution evidence. None, however, made
the impression that the accused, Yamashita, made. He
took the stand in his own behalf, after explanation
by General Reynolds that he did not need to, and that
he could make an unsworn statement or remain silent
as he liked, but that if he did take the stand as a
witness, he would be subject to cross-examination. He
elected to take the stand and did so, and was on the
stand for about 18 hours. His testimony was frank, forthright,
full and complete. He related in detail the situation
confronting the Command on October 9, 1944, just a bare
week before our initial blow fell at the beaches off
Tacloban; then he went on to relate in similar detail
the problems and tasks that continued to confront him
in ever-increasing size and number as the devastating
American attacks by land, sea and air mounted in constantly
rising fury. The superiority of American arms in every
category was so great that the Japanese cause was indeed
a lost one and the only thing that Yamashita could do
was to hope to prevent the full use of the Philippines
as a base itself. Our ceaseless and tremendous assaults
literally cut Yamashita's army to pieces. His communications
between his own headquarters on Luzon and his troops
in the Visayas and in Mindanao were practically non-existent
after the middle of November, 1944, and virtually such
even with Leyte after the end of December. His own headquarters
were moved from Fort McKinley on the outskirts of Manila
to Ipo, in the mountains east of Manila late in December,
1944. He remained at Ipo until the pressure of the American
attacks forced him to remove to Baguio, high in the
mountains, to which place President Jose Laurel7 of
the Philippine "puppet republic" and the Japanese
Ambassador to the Philippines, Murata, had already fled.
On March 21, 1945, these two worthies took a plane
for Japan and on April 16th, Yamashita was forced to
remove his headquarters from Baguio further back into
the mountains to Banban.
I myself
had the experience of going to Baguio on April 28th
about 48 hours after the capture of that summer capitol
by our 37th and 33rd Divisions, I Corps, 6th Army. Devastation
was everywhere. The city had been under effective American
air and artillery attack for weeks and its untenability
by the enemy was readily apparent. Dead Japanese lay
in the streets and all about were smashed and strafed
Japanese staff cars, trucks, caissons, wagons and other
vehicles, all giving mute testimony to the power and
fury of the American air attacks which had been such
an important factor in driving Yamashita from lair to
lair. Later that afternoon, I stood on the high Cathedrala
Hill in Baguio and saw our P-38s bomb and strafe Jap
positions on the ridge to the north of the city and
then watched as the American artillery opened up a terrific
fire on the Japanese emplacements. The artillery fire
was so intense that within a short time, the top of
the ridge was ablaze from the underbrush ignited by
the 105s and 155s. In all that smoke and flame, I could
see the flashes of additional shells as they exploded
on the target, adding further to the holocaust already
raging. I was witnessing then, although not realizing
it, another step on the long road that was driving Yamashita,
step by backward step, to surrender--and to trial for
"failure to control his troops" and to the
final end on the gallows at Los Banos.
On May 20th,
the pressure of the military situation was such that
Yamashita had to move his headquarters again--this time
to Riangian, where he remained until again forced to
move on June 18th. His final headquarters establishment
was at a place called Rest House No. 9 in the vicinity
of Takben, set up on July 22nd, where he remained until
ordered by Tokyo to surrender on September 2nd. Yamashita
himself carefully recited all those moves to me the
day I sketched him.
Thus almost
from the outset of the campaign, Yamashita was confronted
with the overwhelming power of the American attack--so
great in volume, intensity and diversity that his own
headquarters were constantly on the move, harried and
pressed, and even fleeing further and further into the
mountains of northern Luzon in desperate moves to escape
capture and destruction by his inexorable nemesis, General
Douglas MacArthur. Is it any wonder that his control
over his troops might not have been all that it should
have been to insure that excesses would not be committed?
In effect, this situation at the trial might be summarized
by the following: "We Americans did everything
we could to destroy your army and cut your communications
and to prevent your being able to control your troops,
but we are now trying you for failure to control them."
The whole
essence of the charge against Yamashita was that he
"failed to control" his troops, thereby "permitting"
them to commit crimes, etc. He was subjected to a long
and searching cross-examination by Major Kerr, the Chief
Prosecutor, the dramatic climax of which was reached
in the following cross-examination, appearing at page
3660 of the record of trial:
"Q.
You admit, do you, that you failed to control your troops
in the Philippines?
A. I have
put forth my maximum effort in order to control the
troops, and if this was not sufficient, then somehow
I should have done more, but I feel that I have done
my very best.
Q. Did you
fail to control your troops? Please answer `yes' or
`no.'
A. I believe
I did control my troops."
But as Captain
Frank Reel ably pointed out in his phase of the final
argument to the Commission:
"His
answer, `I believe that I did control my troops' is
of course a legal and factual conclusion which only
this Commission can decide, but also it must be taken
in the context of his previous answers, particularly
the long answer which preceded it. Now, actually there
is no question about this. General Yamashita did not
have full control over all his troops at all times.
While these atrocities we being committed, he did not
actually control the actual perpetrators in a strictly
factual sense. Yet on paper, as a Commander, he can
give no other answer. I suppose there have been rapes
and that there has been mistreatment of prisoners of
war by all armies--isolated cases at least. And I don't
suppose that any Commander would say that he controlled
a man while he was in the act of committing rape or
mishandling a prisoner of war, but if you asked any
of those Commanders whether they controlled their troops
they would certainly say they did."
To me, it
seems that the real answer is that Yamashita did all
in his power to control his troops, but that the effectiveness
of American military operations against him was so great
that he was prevented by those operations, and those
operations alone, from effectively controlling his troops.
III
The reader
must understand that the evidence presented to the Commission
and the actual appearances in the courtroom were only
portions of the labors required to present the defense.
Portions of the defense staff were constantly engaged
in important tasks outside the courtroom--maintaining
our headquarters, checking records and files, maintaining
liaison with the prosecution and the Commission, interviewing
witnesses and laying plans for future action. As I mentioned
earlier, one of the "outside" tasks assigned
was that allocated to Lt. Colonel Walter Hendrix, who
devised a theory whereby we could get into the Supreme
Court of the Philippines on a Writ of Habeas Corpus
and Writ of Prohibition. Colonel Clarke and Captains
Reel and Sandberg were deeply involved with the trial
itself and Colonel Clarke then assigned me to assist
Colonel Hendrix in the proposed civil court procedures.
Colonel Hendrix and I immediately embarked on this assignment
and, in the process, rounded up all the Philippine law
books that we could find. The building housing the Supreme
Court of the Philippines had been burned during the
Intramuros fighting and, consequently, we were handicapped
by a lack of library, not to mention the fact that we
were sallying forth on litigation in a strange jurisdiction.
Colonel Hendrix was Judge Advocate to the Military Police
Command and had made one previous appearance in the
Philippine Supreme Court in contesting a habeas corpus
action by three Philippine women collaborators who sought
release from alleged illegal detention by the American
Army. We were assisted by finding many of the books
of the library of that brilliant lawyer, Mr. Jose Laurel,
which books were assembled in Colonel Hendrix's office
by Mr. Julian Wolfson, a veteran American Manila lawyer,
who had survived over three years in internment in Santo
Tomas Internment Camp.
Our research
into the Philippine Law concerning the questions at
hand brought forth a number of interesting examples
of the workings of Anglo-Saxon Justice on the matter
of the Writs of Habeas Corpus and of Prohibition. Some
of these cases went back to the days when the Philippines
had scarcely been liberated from the long heavy rule
of Spain. I will not attempt to enumerate the cases
in this article as it will suffice to say that our research
showed that the power and majesty of our civil law had
closely followed our flag and that individual rights
had been jealously guarded by the courts even from the
earliest days of American influence in those islands.
Some of these cases arose while General Douglas MacArthur's
father, the illustrious General Arthur MacArthur, was
Governor General of the Philippines.
Service
of the papers in the Habeas Corpus and Writ of Prohibition
action was made upon Lt. General Wilhelm D. Styer on
November 13th by a bailiff of the Supreme Court of the
Philippines. The proceedings required that General Styer,
as the respondent in the action, appear or file his
answer within five days from the date of service. On
the required date, no appearance was made by or on behalf
of General Styer, but on November 14th the Manila Law
firm of Delgado, Dizon, Flores and Radrigo appeared
amicus curiae on behalf of the general public of the
Philippine Islands. The theory of the appearance of
this firm as amicus curiae was embodied in the following
excerpts from their petitions:
"That
the trial of General Tomoyuki Yamashita is of vital
significance to the cause of democracy, for in the conduct
of this trial is put to a test the ability of a democratic
institution to administer justice with dispatch and
efficiency, without sacrificing those fundamental rights
accorded to the accused by democratic tenets;
"That
said trial is of paramount interest to the People of
the Philippines, who in their uncompromising adherence
to the cause of democracy, bore the direct and full
impact of the enemy's wanton barbarity, . . ."8
No appearance
was ever made in the Philippines Supreme Court by or
on behalf of General Styer. The manner then went to
oral argument before the Court on the 23rd of November.
Appearance
before the Supreme Court had to be made by Colonel Hendrix
and myself. The case had, of course, attracted a great
deal of attention and the prospect of the Commander
in Chief of the hated Japanese forces seeking judicial
redress in the courts of the country which Japanese
armies had occupied for so long and in the courts of
the very country whose people had suffered so much at
the hands of invaders, was one that generated public
interest to a high pitch. Consequently, when Colonel
Hendrix and I drove up to Malacanan Palace in a jeep,
there was such a crowd in front of the annex, which
was then being used as a temporary court house, that
it was all we could do to get into the place. The temporary
courtroom itself was small and the space required for
seating the nine supreme justices who heard the argument,
plus the clerks and other officials of the court, occupied
a goodly portion of the room. The room was so filled
with newspaper correspondents and with the general public
that Colonel Hendrix and I found ourselves virtually
a part of the crowd.
While there
was no hostility in the atmosphere, nevertheless there
was an overall feeling of tenseness as the case was
called. Mr. Delgado appeared amicus curiae and the argument
on behalf of Genera Yamashita was opened by Colonel
Hendrix. We had divided the argument so that Colonel
Hendrix presented to the Court our plea for writ of
habeas corpus, leaving to me the plea of writ of prohibition.
The principal points which were presented to the highest
tribunal in the Philippines were the same points which
were later presented to the Supreme Court of the United
States, namely:
1. That
the Military Commission, then trying General Yamashita,
was without jurisdiction over, or to try him.
2. That
the charge upon which he was being then tried failed
to state any offense against the laws of war.
3. That
"due process of law" guaranteed to the accused
by both the Philippine and the American Constitutions
was being denied to the accused because of the manner
in which the trial was being conducted.
Colonel
Hendrix, an able and successful lawyer from Atlanta,
Georgia, opened the argument in the somber atmosphere
of tension that I have already described. He launched
into his prepared argument and was proceeding smoothly
when various justices of the Court commenced interrupting
and asking numerous questions. This is a habit which
judges of all appellate tribunals seem to have. It is
a practice which no doubt has its merits, in that it
enables the justices to satisfy themselves on various
points as they occur in the mind of the judge. However,
to the attorney appearing before the court, this practice
can be, and oftentimes is, most disconcerting. In the
Yamashita case, a number of the questions asked, in
my mind, indicated a bias against the petitioner which
amounted to almost open hostility.
The judges,
being Filipinos, were naturally resentful to all Japanese
and most of all to the Japanese Commander in Chief.
Hence, it was not too long before the verbal exchange
between Colonel Hendrix and some of the justices took
on some warmth. The impatience of some of the judges
with the plea on behalf of Yamashita was hardly in keeping
with the fact that some of their number had served in
their present capacities under the Japanese. Some of
the things which were said before the Philippine Supreme
Court that morning made excellent copy for newsmen and
accounts of the proceedings went out around the world.
Upon the
conclusion of Colonel Hendrix's argument concerning
habeas corpus, I then took up the task on behalf of
the writ of prohibition. The same legal theory obtained
for it as obtained for the writ of habeas corpus, save
and except that on behalf of the writ of prohibition,
it was necessary to emphasize the manner in which the
trial, before the Military Commission, was being conducted.
Particular emphasis was laid upon the disregard, by
the Military Commission, of the rules of evidence and
the protective features of the Articles of War.
The argument
on behalf of the petitioner was completed on Friday
and court adjourned until Saturday, November 24th, at
10:00 A.M., at which time Mr. Delgado made a long and
stirring speech against the petition. It was apparently
entirely proper for him to appear amicus curiae on behalf
of the Philippine public, and even the world at large.
We could not feel that his argument was really an answer
to the legal points which we had raised, but that it
was nothing more than a rehash of the anti-Yamashita
propaganda which had already flooded the press and the
radio. Upon the conclusion of the argument, the Philippine
Supreme Court took the case under advisement and on
November 28th, issued a memorandum opinion denying the
relief sought. However, Mr. Justice Ozoatoa dissented
as to the theory of the majority opinion but concurred
in the result. Mr. Justice Perfecto voted to deny the
habeas corpus but to grant the writ of prohibition.
Mr. Justice Perfecto wrote a very long dissenting opinion
in which he gave an interesting and learned dissertation
upon the history of international law. The opinion itself
would be interesting reading from the standpoint of
the historical coverage alone, if not for the fine composition
and excellent expression which characterizes it. Mr.
Justice Perfecto said, in part:
"The
peoples of all nations who are keenly watching the prosecution
of Yamashita should be convinced by conclusive evidence
that said prosecution is not a mere parody of the administration
of justice devised to disguise the primitive impulses
and vengeance and retaliation and of the instinctive
urge to crush at all costs no matter by which means,
a hated fallen enemy. The prosecution, trial and conviction
of Yamashita must impress all the people of the world
that the principle of law is paramount and supersedes
and wipes out all other considerations dealing with
war and commanders as war criminals. Otherwise, their
faith in the supremacy of law as the invulnerable bulwark
of all fundamental human rights will be shaken as will
be the moral position of the victorious United Nations.
The ethical value of the grandiose pronouncements of
their great leaders and the profound significance of
the lofty ideals for which millions have died, will
be weakened and diminished."
The reader
must realize that our system of law does not permit
any direct appeal from the decision of a court-martial
or Military Commission; in other words, there is no
procedure provided whereby an appeal can be taken from
conviction by this military tribunal to civilian courts
for the purpose of reviewing those decisions. The only
means of judicial escape for Yamashita, or for that
matter, for an American so convicted by military court,
is by habeas corpus and prohibition. In order to make
these remedies available, it is essential that the petitioner
show that the military court which tried him was without
jurisdiction. That was the underlying theory of the
action of the Supreme Court of the Philippines and for
that matter, was the position which the defense took
and maintained throughout the trial before the Military
Commission itself. The Philippine Supreme Court announced
its decision denying the petition on December 4th, the
day before the conclusion of the final argument before
the Military Commission.
IV
On
the afternoon of December 5th, Major General Russell
B. Reynolds, the president of the Commission, announced
that the Commission would meet at 2:00 P.M., December
7, 1945, to announce its decision. That session was
as brief as it was dramatic. Just prior to the opening
of the courtroom, Pat Robinson, of International News
Service, took a straw vote of twelve newsmen who had
conscientiously covered the trial. The question submitted
was: "On the evidence produced before the Commission,
would you hang Yamashita?" The vote of the twelve
newsmen was twelve to nothing in the negative. This
was taken by some of the defense counsel as a favorable
sign, for the reason that the press, with few exceptions,
had not been too kindly disposed toward Yamashita. Others
of the defense staff, however, including myself, felt
that the die had been cast and that the finding of the
Commission would unquestionably be "guilty"
and that the sentence, surely as unquestionably, would
be death. General Yamashita was brought into the jampacked
courtroom amidst the exploding of flash bulbs and the
grinding of newsreel cameras. He was directed to take
a stand in front of General Reynolds, accompanied by
Colonel Clarke, senior defense counsel. Almost immediately
General Reynolds commenced reading the prepared statement
which constituted the Commission's findings, judgment
and sentence. It was indeed a dramatic moment and history
was being made in the field of international law, for
this was the first time in American history that a commander
of a defeated enemy army was convicted as a war criminal
upon the theory of command responsibility alone.9
There had
not been one word or one shred of evidence in the entire
seven weeks of trial to show that Yamashita had ordered
or condoned any of the things that had taken place,
or that he had even had knowledge thereof. We were witnessing
the conviction of a defeated and surrendered enemy general
upon the charge that "While Commander of the armed
forces of Japan . . . he unlawfully disregarded
and failed to discharge his duties as Commander to control
the operations of the members of his command, permitting
them to commit brutal atrocities and other high crimes."
Here also was an official pronouncement that a commanding
general was automatically criminally liable for such
occurrences without the showing of any direct connection
whatsoever with the offenses themselves. When the vital
words, "and sentences you to death by hanging,"
had been spoken, there was a moment of dead silence
which hung over the entire room, and then Yamashita
and the other Japanese were taken away.
I closely
watched his face throughout the proceedings and looked
attentively for change in expressions as the translations
were made. For myself, I feel that he must have known
what was coming. When the final words were translated,
there was scarcely a change of expression on his quiet
and solemn face. At no time had he ever exhibited any
resentment or bitterness toward the United States, or
toward those who were charged with the task of conducting
the trial. I had talked with other Japanese officers
of high rank who were arrogant, mean, bitter and resentful,
but Yamashita, the man who must hang as the first proven
example of this new theory of international criminal
law, was quiet, dignified and philosophical.
Prior to
the actual passing of sentence, he had made a brief
statement, through Mr. Hamamoto, in which he thanked
the Military Commission for the courteous manner in
which he had been treated and thanked the American Army
for providing him with defense counsel and publicly
expressed his appreciation to defense counsel himself.
That morning he had asked each of the defense counsel
in and had grasped us by the hand and had personally
expressed his heartfelt appreciation for the efforts
that we had exhibited on his behalf. To each of us he
presented some item of uniform or equipment that was
particularly dear to him. Colonel Clarke received a
Chinese tea service that Yamashita had carried for many
years through Manchuria, China, Malaya, Japan and the
Philippines. Colonel Clarke also received the General's
array of ribbons. Lt. Colonel Feldhaus received his
general staff fourragere cord and one of his three star
gold General's insignia. Lt. Colonel Hendrix received
another General's insignia and Yamashita's cordovan
saber belt. Captains Reel and Sandberg received his
sets of Chinese poetry brushes and the General presented
to me, as the one Cavalry officer on the defense staff,
his gold-plated presentation spurs and also a 24K gold
Chinese good luck piece. These presentations were all
made on the morning of December 7th and I feel that
Yamashita knew at the time what the verdict would be.
Very shortly
after that, he was removed from his cell in the High
Commissioner's Palace to confinement at the prisoner
of war area south of Manila, and there held incommunicado.
I never saw him again, but our efforts on behalf of
the defense were by no means over. On that very day,
December 7th, we forwarded by air mail to the Supreme
Court of the United States an original petition for
writ of habeas corpus and prohibition. In the meantime,
we were frantically getting together the necessary record
to take an appeal from the adverse decision of the Supreme
Court of the Philippines. That record was finally made
up and dispatched by air mail in the evening of December
7th. It was indeed an odd turn of fate that the Japanese
Commander should be sentenced to die and should direct
his appeal to our highest court on the fourth anniversary
of the attack on Pearl Harbor. Shortly thereafter, we
addressed a telegraphic request to the Supreme Court
for a stay of execution and this was granted. There
then followed a period of great uncertainty as to whether
or not the Supreme Court of the United States would
even hear the case, and if it would, whether or not
the matter would be heard orally, and if so, when and
by whom such argument would be made. At about that same
time, Lt. Colonel Feldhaus and I were relieved from
duty in the Pacific, as we then had each served over
30 months in that theater. We both departed for home
before the end of December. In the meantime, authority
came through for three of the defense counsel to go
to Washington to present the case to the Supreme Court
of the United States, and that task was undertaken by
Colonel Clarke and Captains Reel and Sandberg. Lt. Colonel
Hendrix had been assigned to the Staff of Mr. Paul McNutt,
United States High Commissioner of the Philippines,
where he served until after Philippine Independence,
July 4, 1946.
The case
was set down for oral argument before the United States
Supreme Court on January 7, 1946, and it was presented
there by my three colleagues, who had flown to Washington
from Manila. The government's case was presented by
the newly appointed Solicitor General, Mr. Howard McGrath,
his assistant, Mr. Judson, and the Attorney General,
Mr. Tom Clark. Both the original application and the
appeal from the Philippine Supreme Court were heard
together. The principal contentions that had been made
throughout were renewed in the Supreme Court of the
United States, and they were:
1. That
the Military Commission was unlawfully created and that
no Military Commission to try the petitioner for the
violation of laws of war could lawfully be convened
after the cessation of hostilities by the United States
and Japan. (Captain Reel).
2. That
the Charge preferred against the petitioner fails to
charge him with the violation of the law of war. (Colonel
Clarke).
3. That
the Commission was without authority and jurisdiction
because the order covering the procedure of the Commission
permitted the admission in evidence of depositions,
affidavits, hearsay and other documents in violation
of the 25th and 38th Articles of War and the Geneva
Convention and deprived the petitioner of a fair trial
in violation of the Due Process Clause of the fifth
Amendment. That the Commission was without authority
and jurisdiction because of failure to give advance
notice of the trial to the neutral power representing
Japan as a belligerent, as required by Article 60 of
the Geneva Convention. (Captain Sandberg).
The matter
was taken under advisement, and on February 4th, the
Supreme Court announced its momentous denial of the
writs sought and this meant death for Yamashita. The
majority opinion was read by the late Mr. Justice Stone.
It considered each of the points made by the defense
and concluded that the Articles of War did not apply
to Yamashita and that he, therefore, could not complain
if the procedure did not conform to the standards set
by our military code. The majority opinion concluded
in the following words:
"It
thus appears that the order convening the Commission
was a lawful order. That the Commission was lawfully
constituted. That petitioner was charged with violation
of the law of war and that the Commission had authority
to proceed with the trial and in doing so, did not violate
any statutory or Constitutional command. We have considered
and find it unnecessary to discuss other contentions
which we find to be without merit. We therefore conclude
that the detention of petitioner for trial and his detention
after his conviction subject to the prescribed review
by the military authorities, were lawful and the petitions
for the . . . writs . . . should
be and they are DENIED.
Justices
Murphy and Rutledge wrote vigorous dissenting opinions.
Mr. Justice Murphy was particularly impressed with the
inadequacy of the charge upon which Yamashita was convicted,
and also with the contention that he was denied constitutional
rights under the Fifth Amendment. Murphy wrote:
"He
was not charged with personally participating in the
acts of atrocity or with ordering or condoning their
commission. Not even knowledge of these crimes was attributed
to him. It was simply alleged that he unlawfully disregarded
and failed to discharge his duty as commander, to control
the operations of the members of his command, permitting
them to commit the acts of atrocity. The recorded annals
of warfare and the established principles of International
Law afford not the slightest precedent for such a charge.
This indictment in effect permitted the military commission
to make the crime whatever it willed, dependent upon
its biased view as to the petitioner's duties and his
disregard thereof, a practice reminiscent of that pursued
in certain less respected nations in recent years. Also
in my opinion such a procedure is unworthy of the traditions
of our people or of the immense sacrifices that they
have made to advance the common ideals of mankind, the
high feelings of the moment doubtless will be satisfied.
But in the sober afterglow will come the realization
of the boundless and dangerous implications of the procedure
sanctioned today. No one in a position of command in
the army, from sergeant to general, can escape those
implications. Indeed, the fate of some future president
of the United States and his chiefs of staff and military
advisers may well have been sealed by this decision. . . ."
I think
that Mr. Justice Murphy had the reputation of being
a humanitarian and he was certainly a man of deep religious
convictions and of high ideals. His service as Governor
General of the Philippine Islands brought him into close
contact with those islands and with the Filipinos. I
am sure that he had the highest regard and the warmest
affection for the Filipinos, and that the wrongs which
they had suffered grievously affected him. There could
be nothing in the case which would create any sympathy
for Yamashita, insofaras Mr. Justice Murphy was concerned;
yet he dissented from the majority opinion and would
have saved Yamashita's life because his convictions
concerning the moral and legal principles involved were
so strong.
Mr. Justice
Rutledge was particularly impressed with the belief
that Yamashita was entitled to constitutional rights
and there had been denial of those rights:
"More
is at stake than General Yamashita's fate. There could
be no possible sympathy for him if he is guilty of the
atrocities for which his death is sought. But there
can be and should be justice administered according
to law. In this stage of war's aftermath it is too early
for Lincoln's great spirit, best lighted in the Second
Inaugural, to have wide hold for the treatment of foes.
It is not too early, it is never too early, for the
nation steadfastly to follow its great constitutional
traditions, none older or more universally protective
against unbridled power than due process of law in the
trial and punishment of men, that is, of all men, whether
citizens, aliens, alien enemies or enemy belligerents.
It can become too late . . .
"This
trial is unprecedented in our history. Never before
have we tried and convicted an enemy general for action
taken during hostilities or otherwise in the course
of military operations or duty. Much less have we condemned
one for failing to take action. The novelty is not lessened
by the trial's having taken place after hostilities
ended and the enemy, including the accused, had surrendered.
Moreover, so far as the time permitted for our consideration
has given opportunity, I have not been able to find
precedent for the proceeding in the system of any nation
founded in the basic principles of our constitutional
democracy, in the laws of war or in the other internationally
binding authority or usage.
"The
novelty is legal as well as historical. We are on strange
ground. Precedent is not all-controlling in law. There
must be room for growth, since every precedent has an
origin. But it is the essence of our tradition for judges,
when they stand at the end of the marked way, to go
forward with caution keeping sight, so far as they are
able, upon the great landmarks left behind and the direction
they point ahead. If, as may be hoped, we are now to
enter upon a new era of law in the world, it becomes
more important than ever before for the nations creating
that system to observe their greatest traditions of
administering justice, including this one, both in their
own judging and in their new creation. The proceedings
in this case veer so far from some of our time-tested
road signs that I cannot take the large strides validating
them would demand."10
Following
the action of the Supreme Court of the United States,
Colonel Clarke made supreme final effort on behalf of
Yamashita by taking an appeal for clemency to President
Truman. The President, however, declined to act and
thereby left the matter entirely in the hands of the
military.
V
There is
no doubt but that that situation presented to General
MacArthur a difficult and momentous question. The brutalities
and criminal excesses of Japanese personnel in the Philippines
had without a shadow of doubt been widespread and shocking.
As I have stated previously in this article, there were
instances when the massacres, brutalities and excesses
appeared to have been carried out on an organized scale,
and under the direction of Japanese noncoms and commissioned
officers. The contention made by the prosecution was
that these excesses and criminal acts were so widespread
and so numerous that General Yamashita as the Commanding
General must have known of them, or if he did not know
of them, he should have known of them. The Military
Commission took that view and the Supreme Court of the
Philippines declined to intervene. The Supreme Court
of the United States with the two dissenting Justices
whose opinion I have referred to herein, likewise declined
to interfere. Military control of the case was thereupon
entirely undisturbed.
In due time,
General MacArthur announced that he had confirmed the
sentence of the Commission and on February 23, 1946,
at Los Banos Prison Camp, 30 miles south of Manila,
Tomoyuki Yamashita paid with his life for the crimes
of his troops. Before mounting the scaffold, he issued
a statement which I quote herewith. Unfortunately, the
quality of interpretation was not what it would have
been had our old friend, Hamamoto, been doing it. The
statement is as follows:
"I
were carrying out my duty, as Japanese high commander
of Japanese Army in the Philippine Islands, to control
my army with my best during wartime. Until now I am
believing that I have tried to my best throughout my
army.
"As
I said in the Manila Supreme Court that I have done
with my all capacity, so I don't ashame in front of
God for what I have done when I have die. But if you
say to me `you do not have any ability to command the
Japanese Army' I should say nothing for it, because
it is my own nature. Now, our war criminal trial going
on in Manila Supreme Court, so I wish to be justify
under your kindness and right.
"I
know that all your American and American military affairs
always has tolerant and rightful judgment. When I have
been investigated in Manila court I have had a good
treatment, kindful attitude from your good natured officers
who all the time protect me. I never forget for what
they have done for me even if I had died. I don't blame
my executioner. I'll pray God bless them.
"Please
send my thankful word to Col. Clark and Lt. Col. Ferdhause
[Feldhaus], Lt. Col. Hendric [Hendrix], Maj. Goi [Guy],
Capt. Surburn [Sandburg], Capt. Real [Reel], at Manila
court, and Col. Arnard, Capt. Cara, Capt. Herdman and
Brunner.
"I
thank you."
Thus the
final act was played and Yamashita plunged to his death
at the end of a rope on American gallows. A new era
was conceived in the field of international criminal
law. We are still too close to the event to determine
its effect for good or bad, but what is done has been
done and we can only hope that history will vindicate
the judgment of the moment.
_______________
* Reprinted
by permission of the Land and Water Law Review;
originally published in the Wyoming Law Journal
For
Further Reading
by
Steven Zelinger 11
The classic
treatment of the Yamashita case remains the book of
another of the counsel for the Japanese General: A.
Frank Reel, The Case of General Yamashita (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1949). Among more recent
studies are John Deane Potter's biography, A Soldier
Must Hang (London: Frederick Muller, Ltd., 1963);
two more militarily oriented studies: A.J. Barker, Yamashita
(New York: Ballantine Books, Inc., 1973) and Stanley
L. Falk, Decision at Leyte (New York: W.W.
Norton and Co., Inc., 1966); and a particularly well-done
comparative history which emphasizes the commonality
of background among four Japanese generals; Arthur Swinson,
Four Samurai (London: Hutchinson and Co., Ltd.,
1968).
Renewed
interest in the case of Yamashita arose as a result
of the Vietnam conflict. Based upon the precedent of
Yamashita, Professor Telford Taylor held the commanders
of American combat forces in Vietnam responsible for
failure to properly control troop conduct in massacres
such as My Lai. Telford Taylor, Nuremberg and Vietnam:
An American Tragedy (Chicago: Quadrangle Books,
1970), especially, pp. 53, 91-2, 94, 181-2. Taylor's
thesis is disputed in Lt. Col. Franklin A. Hart, "Yamashita,
Nuremberg and Vietnam: Command Responsibility Reappraised,"
25 Naval College Review 19-36 (September-October,
1972).
The Supreme
Court decision, In re Yamashita, is reported
at 327 U.S. 1, 66 S. Ct. 340 (1946). The formulation
of the dissenting views of Justices Murphy and Rutledge
is treated briefly in J. Woodford Howard, Jr., Mr.
Justice Murphy: A Political Biography (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1968) especially, pp. 367-71,
375.
References
to orders given by General Yamashita as well as some
description of his subordinates may be found in a work
more notable for its detail of Japanese war crimes:
Lord Russell of Liverpool, The Knights of Bushido
(London: Cassell and Co., Ltd., 1958) especially, pp.
243, 251, 257 n, 296, 319, and appendix, 313-26.
Notes
1 Although
militarily educated, Yamashita was not of the Samurai
class. He was born in 1885, the son of a father--a travelling
village doctor of peasant stock--and a mother, who came
from a wealthy farm family. Yamashita did revere the
Emperor but he definitely was not part of the Tojo clique.
2 The complete
personnel of the defense as finally constituted was
as follows: Colonel Harry E. Clarke, JAGD, Altoona,
PA;
Lt. Col.
Gordon Feldhaus, JAGD, Pierre, SD;
Lt. Col.
Walter C. Hendrix, JAGD, Atlanta, GA;
Major George
F. Guy, Cavalry, Cheyenne, WY;
Captain
A. Frank Reel, JAGD, Boston, MA;
Captain
Milton Sandberg, JAGD, Keyport, NJ
3 (Ed. Note:
Delmas Carl Hill, later U.S. District Judge for Kansas,
and Judge of the United States Court of Appeals for
the Tenth Circuit.)
4 General
Yamashita had served in the War Ministry under General
Ugaki on both of the latter's administrations in 1924-25
and 1931-32, and had assisted in the drafting of plans
for the reduction of the Japanese Army by four divisions.
For this reduction, forced through the Diet in spite
of opposition of the militarists in 1931, Ugaki earned
the undying hatred of the extremists.
5 While
sections of the press were not prejudiced in their reporting
of the Yamashita trial, it seemed to me that the general
public really got only the prosecution's side of the
case. Pat Robinson, I.N.S. correspondent, seemed to
be particularly fair to the defense in his dispatches,
but nevertheless, the general impression at home seemed
to be one of preconviction of the accused.
6 He was
subsequently tried along with several others including
General Tojo before the International Military Tribunal
Far East in Tokyo and was finally executed.
7 This same
Jose Laurel who fled the American advance in March of
1945 and who was subsequently apprehended by our troops
in Japan managed to escape trial of any kind even though
he had brought his country into war against the United
States. He not only managed to escape trial but also
succeeded in redeeming his former political position
to the extent that he was a nearly successful presidential
candidate in the 1949 Filipino election!
8 The petition
was actually filed by Mr. F.A. Delgado, a leading Manila
lawyer, and the Philippine representative to the United
Nations.
9 The German
General Dostler had been already convicted and shot
in Italy, but the proof, in his case, was clearly that
he had personally ordered the execution of American
prisoners.
10 (Ed.
Note: Justice Rutledge commended Yamashita's counsel,
stating:
"One
basic protection of our system and one only, petitioner
has had. He had been represented by able counsel, officers
of the army he fought. Their difficult assignment has
been done with extraordinary fidelity, not only to the
accused, but to their high conception of military justice,
always to be administered in subordination to the Constitution
and consistent Acts of Congress and treaties.")
11 Steven
L. Zelinger, a senior at Harvard College, served as
a Judicial Intern during the summer of 1980 in the Office
of the Administrative Assistant to the Chief Justice.
Copyright 1981 by the Supreme Court Historical Society