Rohwer Japanese Relocation camp: Racism, Fear or Protection?

The easiest explanation to any social injustice is racism. 

During the world war 2, after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Japanese were about to attack on the west coast of US. The Japanese never attacked, but the fear was high. Meanwhile, the US government rounded up all Japanese Americans living in cities, towns, villages on the west coast and put them into detention. Yes, shocking as it was, it happened. The Japanese Americans, mainly in California and Oregon, were given short notices to vacate and report. Most of them were not able to sell anything and were put into concentration camps for few days. After few weeks to few days, they were transported on trains going to one of the twelve intermittent camps in undisclosed locations in US. These detainees were then released after three years.

Incidentally, the detainees were US citizens. Many of them born in US and some of them had never been to Japan. The question arose, why a country would treat its own citizens in such an atrocious way. Detainees were not exactly the prisoners, as they were provided with basic necessities. They had a normal life within the boundaries of their camps and occasionally some detainees were even allowed to visit nearby villages. After a few months in the camp, many detainees enrolled into US military and fought in the world war for US in Europe, but not before they cleared a ‘loyalty test’.

One site of such intermittent camp was near the village of Rohwer in Mississippi delta region of south east Arkansas. Famous Hollywood actor George Takei was one of the detainees in that camp. Arkansas state university as a part of revival of entire delta region and its heritage invested in preserving the history in Arkansas. A museum was established in McGehee, Arkansas around 13 miles from the actual site of the intermittent camp. 

According to their visitors’ book, I was the first Indian to visit the museum, quite obvious as I had no relation to that history or it wasn’t a popular place. Most of the Arkansans I talked to didn’t even know about this part of history or its connection to the natural state. The first part of the museum had a movie depicting the history and experiences of the inmates. The second part had an exhibit of quotes of the detainees, photographs, artwork and other things used by them. The life was not easy. Each family had a small room to live their life. They had limited rations, heavily guarded camp and no social life except for within the camps. For detainees, that time period was like two immigrations, one when the camps started as they had to leave everything behind and another when the camps ended as they had to restart their life again. 

One of the detainees, Eiichi Kamiya, wrote about the Rohwer camp:

“Far enough south to catch Gulf Coast hurricanes, far enough north to catch the Midwestern tornadoes, close enough to the river to be inundated by the Mississippi valley floods, and lush enough to be heaven for every creepy, crawly creature and pesky insects in the world.”

And that was the best part of the camps.

Today, the only parts left of the camps are a guard tower and a cemetery. I was completely unaware of this history. After visiting the history in the museum, I drove to the actual fields of the camps, the corn fields. Gorgeous weather, cool breeze and sun shine welcomed me. I felt chilly not because of breeze, but I was visualizing the camp life in there; heavily guarded fence, guard towers, armed sentries, small barracks, lines for rations and yet peaceful Japanese Americans going about their life. The questions flooded my mind. I talked to many people about it and the answer I received from the most was racism. Was it just racism? Debatable. In fact, during the Clinton administration, US government, in a special white house program, invited and apologized to survivors of intermittent camps.

I have been in the US for last five years and I have seen many sectarian divides and movements. Racism is being blamed for more time than anything else. By blaming it on racism, every other underlying causes gets undermined. Same was the case during the world war 2. Yes, there could have been racism, but surely the US government was not driven by the racism. The senate had representative from African American community since 1870, some 70 years before Japanese intermittent camp.

The bipartisan political system is the weakest of all democratic political system I’ve seen. That could be the reason. Most of the problems do not need political support or escalation, as election issues are easy to find in a bipartisan system. Most of the time, just saying you hate the other party has been enough to get you votes, as no third front exists to challenge. During the decision of putting Japanese intermittent camp, politically, stakes were very low. Forget about opposing, even educating about the event was not considered important. Thus, many of the Americans are till day unaware about Japanese intermittent camp. 

On the other hand, it could have been a smart decision by the Government. Japanese were about to attack on west coast or as was believed by the people there. Being a paranoid society, the enmity was bound to increase among Japanese Americans and other Americans. Japanese Americans would have incurred heavy loss, as they were minority, if the riots were broken out. By moving them to intermittent camps, the Government at lease ensured safety of their lives. While fighting a world war, stability at home was of the utmost importance. By moving Japanese Americans out of the west coast and away from other Americans, the US government not only ensured their safety but also the stability at home to focus on the war. Smart!

The last part, German Americans were not treated the same way. True, because the real perceived fear was from Japan and racially Japanese were easy to discriminate. Racism in the society played part in the discrimination, but I do not believe the US government was driven by the racism. The Japs, as they were called, from the camps were allowed to visit nearby villages. A group of youths visited a nearby town, probably Rohwer, but I’m not sure. They boarded a bus. Segregation was a reality at that time, and so white people travelled in the front of the bus, while black people occupied the rear. Being wary of the white people, the Japanese youth instinctively walked to rear to sit with blacks. The driver instructed them to sit in the middle creating a third sect. Yes, that was racism, but no different than anywhere else in the universe. More so, that was a lack of education and awareness. They had never seen a Japanese person and did not know how to react. They were not beaten up. The Japanese were just discriminated out of unawareness and lack of education more than racism.

All being said, most of the Americans who know about Japanese American camps, today believe that was a bad fruit of their glorious history. I am taking the blame away from Racism, because I believe blaming the racism is an easy way out and undermine other issues. In addition, I have travelled to the interiors of the US. I have travelled to the places notoriously perceived as racist. Nevertheless, I have never been racially discriminated. 

In the end, a quote from Ray Johnston, the project director of the Rohwer camps, glorifies the response of Japanese Americans and how civilized they were. Yes, they were Americans and they loved their country, US:

“I was very agreeably surprised throughout the life of the Center at the excellent conduct of practically all evacuees. I do not believe that any other similar-sized segment of our population would have behaved themselves as well under similar circumstances. I feel that a group of average Americans, under similar conditions, would have been continually causing turmoil, strikes, and so on, and that administering such a Center would have been unbearable."

Thank you Arkansas State University for preserving the history. (http://rohwer.astate.edu)

Visit the place and build your own opinion.


 

The Shrinking Baby

“It’s all your fault. You are never careful enough with our baby,” said Kerri entering their home. She threw keys into one of the two bowls sitting on a table by the door.

“Calm down, honey. It’s no big deal,” said George entering the home behind his wife with their son. Their Son, Jack, was sleeping on George’s shoulder.

 

“No big deal? No big deal?” Kerri stopped in the hallway and turned back, animatedly. “Do you realize George our boy just shrunk four inches or did you not hear what doctor said?” George walked passed her into the living room choosing not to reply. 

“Are you listening to what I am saying?” barked Kerri at the top of her chords standing her ground. Cool as a cucumber, George put Jack into his cradle in the bedroom and returned to kitchen. Kerri shouting at the top of her voice was new neither for George nor for neighbors. Kerri walked up to George by the refrigerator and said, rather quietly, “George, the doctor said one in a million baby shrinks after a month of their birth.”

George continued his activities of getting a soda can out of refrigerator, opening it and drinking. Kerri’s eyes were continuously following him and lines on her forehead sustaining for a long time. George sat down on the couch and looked at her wife. Measuring expectation in Kerri’s eyes, he smiled and said, “Be merry, Kerri. Our son is one in a million.”

“What an achievement!” replied Kerri and looked away. She started doing something in kitchen with loud noise. Finally, George gave up and walked up to Kerri in the kitchen.

 

“Look Kerri. I know it’s disturbing for you, but we can’t do anything. Besides, our son looks healthy and happy. That’s all there is to it,” said George taking Kerri’s hand in his hand. With a wry smile Kerri withdrew her hand.

Turning away she said, “I’m just worried.”

“Don’t be,” said George putting his hand on Kerri’s left shoulder.

After a brief moment of silence, Kerri said, “I worry about what if Jack is under the effect of…”

“Don’t start that again,” said George withdrawing his hand and walking away. He returned to the couch and shouted, “I’m an accountant there.”

“Yes, but your company has invented some pretty let’s say controversial chemicals,” said Kerri.

“So what? It’s not like they research a baby shrinking formula and test them on their employee’s babies. Just think about it. How ridiculous you sound!” said George. He subconsciously picked up the remote control and switched on the TV.

“You threw a party for your colleagues,” said Kerri coming out of the kitchen.

“Yeah and one of my colleagues came with a baby shrinking powder to spray on Jack. Do you ever think before speaking?” said George.

“..but doctor..” Kerri tried to say something, but George continues his tirade. “The only person from R & D was Doug. Do you suspect Doug? He’s been with us since our freshman year. He’s the godfather of Jack. Do you suspect him?” George pushed on. He changed to a news channel on the TV.

“How do you explain our baby being one in a million?” asked Kerri.

“One in a million. Not the first one. And doctor said it could be a mistake. They are assessing the reports,” said George calming down.

“Right. You know what. The doctors diagnose one in every 10000 babies as shrunk and then scrutinize the reports. After the scrutiny, declare one winner out of 100, one in a million shrunk BABY!” Kerri was nose to nose with George by the time she finished saying that.

“Your math is quite good,” said George after a second’s pause.

Kerri jerked back. “You are….Doug.”

“What?” asked George.

“Increase the volume. I heard Doug’s name,” ordered Kerri focusing on 50 inches’ screen on the opposite wall.

“…In case you missed our special report on Zinjin pharma. One of their employee Doug Bracewell blew lid of their ambitions,” an attractive news anchor was saying. Kerri and George exchanged looks. “According to him, the recent molecule of the company that went into phase one clinical trials for bone cancer has a rather unusual adverse effect. According to Doug, who is right now under protective custody, new promising drug is so potent that it can shrink the bones.” Kerri’s mouth fell open as she looked at George, silently saying she won the battle.

George might have conceded if not for the ringing of phone. George reached for the side table and answered the call. “Yes speaking……Ah Dr. Abend……Oh….Thank you.”

“So what was it?” asked Kerri.

“The doctor said, they didn’t find anything wrong in Jack’s report. Jack may have been shrunk. They suspect his reports might have been mixed up with another kid.” They both just stared at each other, then at TV, and at last the phone.

Do French speak English?

What an unusual question to ask! Still it was forced into my mind few months ago. I never asked whether American speak Italian or English speak French, but I wondered whether French speak English. The reason, I was to embark on my vacation to France.

After completing my visa procedure and confirming my tickets and itinerary, I declared happily about my upcoming vacation. My friends and colleagues were happy with one warning: “People are not nice there.” Surprisingly, hardly any of them had ever been to France and yet they had confidence in their second hand information. The most common argument for their warning was French people did not speak English. It was like judging a golf player based on his Flamenco dancing skills.

Charles de Gaulle, being an international airport, had all English-speaking officers. However, directions and signs were not all in English. I thought, probably, my friends were not completely wrong. As soon as I walked out of secure area, several taxi drivers flocked around me, quite a change from USA, but not so much from India. One of them, based on how non-French I looked, started speaking in English to me. “Eifel tower? Which hotel?” He guessed right that I was a tourist. I knew I had to take the metro and ignored the taxi driver. He then followed me and spoke a few statements in French. English and French, both spoken fluently by the first person I met in Paris. He didn’t stop there, he spoke in Spanish and finally in Arabic, again fluently, to try and get business out of me. Wow! I looked at him wide eyed and asked, “Where is the metro station?” He disappointedly gave me the right directions and led me to an elevator leading two floors down, from where I could catch the metro.

Recovering from the multilingual French discovery, I went to the information counter and found a strictly French speaking man. I started with saying “Bonjour!” and quickly shifted to English after that. He made an effort with the sign language and little English he knew to guide me successfully to the ticket counter and metro platforms. My first two experiences in Paris were quite different from the warnings.

For the next two days, I went to many places in Paris from Eifel Tower to the Louvre and from Notre Dame to the Petit Palais. I did face difficulty with the language. Yes, I did. Nonetheless, not with the communication! After spending two days in Paris, I spent rest of the week in a small village named Presilly on the French Alpes. Finding English-speaking people was harder and harder as I moved away from Paris. However, I felt more and more at home. Stereotypical judgment was completely missing in those villages and small towns. After spending years in USA, that was a pleasant experience.

After nine days of fun, adventure and other worldly experience, I was at the Charles de Gaulle airport again, sad but satisfied. One last French interaction remained, at the immigration counter of the airport. Interestingly, I was the only one waiting in the line. I was called over by a characteristically French gentleman sitting on the opposite side of the immigration counter. In his forties, he had a stern look of an officer. “Bonjour!” I said approaching the counter and handed over my passport. For a second he didn’t look at me. After looking at my passport, the officer looked up, smiled, and said, “Namaste!” Forget English, he spoke to me in Hindi. Looking at him, he was probably a hundredth generation Frenchman and yet he spoke in Hindi. 

In the end, the assumption that French were not nice because they didn’t speak English was false. Many Americans don’t speak a second language. Even though many French didn’t speak a second language they were accommodating, pleasant and welcoming. I will visit France again and again and again.

Till then au revoir!