A local board in Auckland, New Zealand this week rejected a proposed memorial to World War II comfort women, after diplomatic pressure from Japan. Fletcher and Octavio explore how societies decide what to commemorate, who holds the power to erase history, and why a bronze statue can become a matter of state.
Un consejo local en Auckland, Nueva Zelanda, rechazó esta semana la instalación de un monumento a las mujeres de confort de la Segunda Guerra Mundial, después de presión diplomática de Japón. Fletcher y Octavio exploran cómo las sociedades deciden qué recordar, quién tiene el poder de borrar la historia, y por qué una estatua de bronce puede convertirse en un asunto de estado.
8 essential B1-level terms from this episode, with translations and example sentences in Spanish.
| Spanish | English | Example |
|---|---|---|
| la memoria histórica | historical memory | La memoria histórica de un país es importante para entender el presente. |
| el monumento | monument / memorial | Querían instalar un monumento en el parque para recordar a las víctimas. |
| forzar | to force | El ejército forzó a muchas mujeres a trabajar en condiciones terribles. |
| dejar | to leave / to let (passively) | Dejaron el problema sin resolver durante muchos años. |
| la herida | wound / injury (also used figuratively) | El silencio creó una herida en la sociedad que nunca se curó. |
| rechazar | to reject / to turn down | El consejo rechazó la propuesta después de mucho debate. |
| la disculpa | apology | El gobierno emitió una disculpa oficial por los errores del pasado. |
| sobrevivir | to survive | Muy pocas mujeres sobrevivieron para contar su historia. |
This week a neighborhood council in New Zealand voted on whether a statue should stand in a small park, and that vote somehow managed to involve three governments and eighty years of unresolved history.
Sí, el caso es muy interesante.
Yes, the case is very interesting.
En Takapuna, una ciudad cerca de Auckland, un grupo de personas quería instalar una estatua para recordar a las mujeres de confort de la Segunda Guerra Mundial.
In Takapuna, a city near Auckland, a group of people wanted to install a statue to remember the comfort women of World War II.
And the local board voted it down.
Not because of anything wrong with the proposal artistically or practically, but because Japan lobbied against it, and the New Zealand government apparently made its views known.
Exacto.
Exactly.
Antes de hablar del voto, quiero explicar quiénes eran estas mujeres.
Before talking about the vote, I want to explain who these women were.
Durante la Segunda Guerra Mundial, el ejército japonés forzó a entre ciento cincuenta mil y doscientas mil mujeres a trabajar como esclavas sexuales en sus bases militares.
During World War II, the Japanese military forced between 150,000 and 200,000 women to work as sexual slaves at their military bases.
Most of them were Korean.
But there were also women from China, the Philippines, Indonesia, the Dutch East Indies.
The Japanese military called the system 'comfort stations,' which is one of the most chilling euphemisms I've ever encountered.
Es un eufemismo horrible, sí.
It's a horrible euphemism, yes.
La palabra en japonés es 'ianfu', que significa algo como 'mujeres de consuelo'.
The word in Japanese is 'ianfu,' which means something like 'comfort women.' But the reality was systematic rape and slavery.
Pero la realidad era violación sistemática y esclavitud.
Many of these women died.
Muchas de estas mujeres murieron.
Very few survived to tell their story.
Muy pocas sobrevivieron para contar su historia.
The women who did survive mostly stayed silent for decades.
The stigma was enormous.
The first survivor to speak publicly did so in 1991, in South Korea.
Her name was Kim Hak-soon.
She was in her sixties by then.
Y cuando Kim Hak-soon habló, otras mujeres también empezaron a hablar.
And when Kim Hak-soon spoke, other women also began to speak.
Fue un momento muy importante.
It was a very important moment.
Porque antes de eso, Japón podía decir: no hay evidencia, no pasó.
Because before that, Japan could say: there is no evidence, it didn't happen.
Después de eso, era imposible negar la historia.
After that, it was impossible to deny the history.
Though Japan has tried, in its own way.
Not a flat-out denial exactly, but something almost more frustrating: a pattern of acknowledging, then walking back, then re-acknowledging, then qualifying, going back decades.
Así es.
That's right.
En 1993, el gobierno japonés reconoció oficialmente el problema en lo que se llama la Declaración Kono.
In 1993, the Japanese government officially acknowledged the issue in what is called the Kono Statement.
Fue un momento importante.
It was an important moment.
Pero después, muchos políticos japoneses dijeron que la declaración fue un error.
But afterward, many Japanese politicians said the statement was a mistake.
And that pattern of two-steps-forward, one-and-a-half-steps-back is exactly why these statues have become so loaded.
They're not just art.
They're a refusal to let the subject be quietly buried.
Las estatuas comenzaron en Seúl, en 2011.
The statues began in Seoul, in 2011.
Hay una estatua famosa frente a la embajada japonesa en la capital coreana.
There is a famous statue in front of the Japanese embassy in the Korean capital.
Una chica joven, sentada en una silla, con una mariposa sobre su hombro.
A young girl, sitting in a chair, with a butterfly on her shoulder.
Es muy simple, pero muy poderosa.
It's very simple, but very powerful.
Japan demanded that statue be removed.
When South Korea refused, Japan recalled its ambassador.
Over a statue.
That tells you something about how seriously Tokyo takes this.
Y después, estas estatuas llegaron a otros países.
And then these statues arrived in other countries.
Hay estatuas en los Estados Unidos, en Canadá, en Australia, en Alemania.
There are statues in the United States, in Canada, in Australia, in Germany.
Cada vez que aparece una estatua nueva, Japón protesta.
Every time a new statue appears, Japan protests.
Y a veces, los gobiernos locales escuchan esa protesta.
And sometimes, local governments listen to that protest.
Which brings us back to Takapuna.
A community group had been pushing for this memorial for years.
They went through public consultation, they got support from the local Korean community, they did everything right.
And then the diplomatic pressure arrived.
Mira, esto es lo que me parece más importante del caso.
Look, this is what seems most important to me about the case.
No fue solo Japón quien presionó.
It wasn't just Japan that applied pressure.
El gobierno de Nueva Zelanda también habló con el consejo local.
The New Zealand government also spoke with the local board.
Esto significa que la política exterior de Nueva Zelanda con Japón influyó en una decisión sobre una estatua en un parque.
This means that New Zealand's foreign policy toward Japan influenced a decision about a statue in a park.
That is the part I find genuinely troubling.
A central government effectively leaning on a local democratic body to reach a specific conclusion.
That's not diplomacy, that's something closer to censorship by proxy.
Completamente de acuerdo.
Completely agree.
Y hay otro problema.
And there is another problem.
Japón es un aliado económico y militar importante para Nueva Zelanda.
Japan is an important economic and military ally for New Zealand.
Entonces la decisión sobre la estatua no era solo sobre la historia, era también sobre el dinero y la seguridad.
So the decision about the statue was not only about history, it was also about money and security.
Which is a calculation governments make all the time.
But that doesn't make it any less uncomfortable when it plays out in a park in suburban Auckland.
Quiero hablar de algo más amplio.
I want to talk about something broader.
Porque este caso no es único.
Because this case is not unique.
En todo el mundo, los países tienen problemas con cómo recordar el pasado difícil.
All over the world, countries have problems with how to remember a difficult past.
Y España también tiene esta historia, una historia muy complicada y muy reciente.
And Spain also has this history, a very complicated and very recent history.
The Valle de los Caídos.
I was going to bring that up.
Franco's mausoleum.
Forty years of dictatorship, and for decades after his death Spain just sort of...
left the monument standing and hoped nobody asked too many questions.
Exacto.
Exactly.
El Valle de los Caídos es un ejemplo perfecto.
The Valle de los Caídos is a perfect example.
Franco construyó ese monumento con trabajo forzado, con prisioneros republicanos.
Franco built that monument using forced labor, with Republican prisoners.
Y durante cuarenta años después de la democracia, el estado español pagaba por el mantenimiento de ese lugar.
And for forty years after democracy, the Spanish state paid for the maintenance of that place.
The Transition.
The Pacto del Olvido.
Spain's post-Franco democracy was built on a kind of agreed amnesia.
Nobody talked about the war, nobody talked about the camps, nobody talked about the mass graves.
The deal was: let's just move forward.
Sí, y durante muchos años yo entendía esa decisión.
Yes, and for many years I understood that decision.
En los años setenta y ochenta, el objetivo era sobrevivir como democracia.
In the seventies and eighties, the objective was to survive as a democracy.
Hablar del pasado podía destruir todo.
Talking about the past could destroy everything.
Pero el problema es que ese silencio creó una herida que nunca se curó.
But the problem is that this silence created a wound that never healed.
And then in 2007 the Zapatero government passed the Law of Historical Memory, and suddenly Spain was having all of those conversations it had put off for thirty years, simultaneously, very loudly.
Y la sociedad española se dividió.
And Spanish society divided.
Para algunas personas, la ley era necesaria, era justicia para las víctimas.
For some people, the law was necessary, it was justice for the victims.
Para otras personas, era un problema político, una manera de atacar a la derecha.
For other people, it was a political problem, a way to attack the right.
Fue muy difícil.
It was very difficult.
Y todavía hoy es difícil.
And today it is still difficult.
So Spain is, in a way, still working through what New Zealand just sidestepped in Takapuna.
There's no clean answer to the question of when a society should be forced to confront its own history, and when that confrontation does more harm than good.
Pero hay una diferencia importante entre España y el caso de Japón.
But there is an important difference between Spain and Japan's case.
España no fue a otros países para decir: no pongan monumentos sobre la Guerra Civil española.
Spain did not go to other countries to say: don't put up monuments about the Spanish Civil War.
Japón sí lo hace.
Japan does.
Japón activamente va a otros países y dice: esta estatua es un problema para nosotros.
Japan actively goes to other countries and says: this statue is a problem for us.
That's the distinction that matters most, isn't it.
Every country has things it would rather not be reminded of.
The question is whether you export your discomfort and try to suppress it internationally.
En alemán tienen una palabra para esto: 'Vergangenheitsbewältigung'.
In German they have a word for this: 'Vergangenheitsbewältigung.' It means something like 'the process of working through the past.' Germany did this work after World War II.
Significa algo como 'el proceso de trabajar con el pasado'.
Japan has not yet done it completely.
Alemania hizo este trabajo después de la Segunda Guerra Mundial.
Japón todavía no lo hizo completamente.
Germany is the standard everyone points to.
Holocaust memorials in the center of Berlin.
Mandatory education.
The legal prohibition on denial.
But Germany had the Nuremberg trials forcing the reckoning from outside.
Japan didn't have quite the same experience.
Exacto.
Exactly.
Después de la guerra, los Estados Unidos necesitaban a Japón como aliado contra el comunismo en Asia.
After the war, the United States needed Japan as an ally against communism in Asia.
Entonces el proceso judicial fue más limitado.
So the judicial process was more limited.
El Emperador no fue juzgado.
The Emperor was not put on trial.
Muchos oficiales militares volvieron a sus vidas normales.
Many military officers returned to their normal lives.
MacArthur made that call, and there are historians who argue it was necessary for stability and others who argue it planted the seed of everything that came afterward, including Japan's difficulty fully reckoning with what happened.
Y esto tiene consecuencias hoy.
And this has consequences today.
Las relaciones entre Japón y Corea del Sur son muy complicadas todavía.
Relations between Japan and South Korea are still very complicated.
Los dos países son aliados de los Estados Unidos, pero tienen problemas históricos muy serios.
Both countries are US allies, but they have very serious historical problems.
La cuestión de las mujeres de confort es uno de los problemas más importantes.
The comfort women issue is one of the most important problems.
There was a deal in 2015, actually.
Japan paid about eight million dollars into a fund for surviving comfort women and issued a formal apology.
But then South Korea's next government said the deal was insufficient and the women hadn't been properly consulted.
So the wound reopened.
Y ese es el problema central.
And that is the central problem.
¿Quién decide cuándo la historia termina?
Who decides when history is over?
¿El gobierno?
The government?
¿Las víctimas?
The victims?
¿La sociedad?
Society?
En el caso de Takapuna, el gobierno de Nueva Zelanda decidió que la historia podía terminar, o al menos podía no aparecer en ese parque.
In the case of Takapuna, the New Zealand government decided that history could be finished, or at least could not appear in that park.
And the women who survived, many of them now in their nineties or already gone, they didn't get a say in that calculation.
That's the part that sits with me.
Hay una cosa más que quiero decir.
There is one more thing I want to say.
En el mundo hispanohablante, en México, en Argentina, en España, hay muchas organizaciones que trabajan con la memoria histórica de sus propios países.
In the Spanish-speaking world, in Mexico, in Argentina, in Spain, there are many organizations that work with the historical memory of their own countries.
Y esas organizaciones entienden muy bien lo que significa cuando un gobierno dice: no, esta historia no existe aquí.
And those organizations understand very well what it means when a government says: no, this history does not exist here.
The Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo understood it.
The women in Chile under Pinochet understood it.
There's a whole tradition in Latin America of communities insisting on their own memory against official silence.
Exacto.
Exactly.
Y esa es la conexión más profunda de este caso.
And that is the deepest connection in this case.
No es solo sobre Japón o Corea o Nueva Zelanda.
It is not just about Japan or Korea or New Zealand.
Es sobre una pregunta universal: ¿tiene el estado el derecho de controlar la memoria de sus ciudadanos?
It is about a universal question: does the state have the right to control the memory of its citizens?
And public art, a statue in a park, is one of the ways communities answer that question without waiting for permission.
Which is, I think, precisely why governments find them threatening.
Oye, Fletcher, hay algo que dijiste antes que quiero mencionar.
Hey, Fletcher, there is something you said earlier that I want to mention.
Dijiste que España 'dejó el monumento en pie'.
You said Spain 'left the monument standing.' You used an interesting verb: dejar.
Usaste un verbo interesante: dejar.
Do you know the difference between 'dejar' and 'permitir' in Spanish?
¿Sabes la diferencia entre 'dejar' y 'permitir' en español?
Both mean 'to allow' or 'to let,' right?
But I get the feeling you're about to tell me they're not interchangeable.
Exacto.
Exactly.
'Dejar' tiene una idea de abandono, de no hacer nada.
'Dejar' has an idea of abandonment, of doing nothing.
Por ejemplo: 'dejaron el monumento ahí' significa que no lo movieron, simplemente lo ignoraron.
For example: 'dejaron el monumento ahí' means they didn't move it, they simply ignored it.
'Permitir' es más activo, es una decisión consciente.
'Permitir' is more active, it's a conscious decision.
'Permitieron la manifestación' significa que el gobierno dio permiso.
'Permitieron la manifestación' means the government gave permission.
That's actually a really useful distinction for talking about exactly this topic.
'Dejar' is passive negligence, letting something persist by doing nothing.
'Permitir' is an active choice.
And the difference between those two things is often exactly what historians argue about.
Sí, y en el caso de Nueva Zelanda, podemos debatir si el gobierno 'dejó' rechazar la estatua o 'permitió' que Japón influyera.
Yes, and in the case of New Zealand, we can debate whether the government 'let' the statue be rejected or 'allowed' Japan to influence things.
Creo que fue las dos cosas, y ninguna de ellas es buena.
I think it was both, and neither is good.
I'll be using those two words very differently from now on.
And thinking about who decides what gets left standing, and what gets permitted to disappear.
That's probably where we leave this one.