If you would like to catch up on some recent posts, here is a place where you can easily access some posts you might have missed. I hope it helps… enjoy.
Continue readingPresident Roosevelt: Mixed Signals

Between 1939 and 1941, President Franklin D. Roosevelt confronted a central strategic dilemma: how to oppose Nazi Germany and keep Britain in the war while U.S. public opinion overwhelmingly opposed entering another European conflict. Roosevelt’s response was a policy of incremental engagement on economic, military, and political level, all designed to shift the balance of power without formally declaring war. This strategy succeeded in sustaining Britain and positioning the United States as the decisive future belligerent in Europe, but it also produced ambiguity and mixed signals both within his own administration and abroad, particularly affecting Secretary of State Cordell Hull and Japanese perceptions of U.S. priorities.
The Core Concerns
Roosevelt’s overriding concern after 1939 was that a German-dominated Europe would fundamentally threaten long-term American security. He believed that Britain’s survival was essential to prevent Nazi hegemony over the Atlantic world for reasons of democracy and international trade as well. He was convinced that a German victory would eventually force the United States into a far more dangerous war under worse conditions or would leave the U.S. isolated with fascist nations on the other side of two oceans.
Importantly, the U.S. needed time to build industrial and military capacity both of which were the nation’s most valuable strategic asset. In 1936 the Washington Naval Treaty, which had sharply limited the future growth of the U.S. Navy in the name of arms control, expired. Roosevelt let it lapse. He then ordered the Navy to launch its first major shipbuilding program in more than twelve years (one of the ships to come. In 1938 the Army Air Corps got the biggest authorization for buying planes in its history. From the fourth-biggest military force in the world in 1918, the United States Army shrank to number eighteen, just ahead of tiny Holland. By 1939 the Army Air Corps consisted of some seventeen hundred planes, all fighters and trainers, and fewer than 20,000 officers and enlisted men. Arthur Herman’s Freedom’s Forge is a fascinating account of the plan FDR put in place so by December 1941, the industrial capacity of the U.S. was well underway to achieving a war footing from an industrial base.
At the same time, Roosevelt faced a public with deep and recent memories of the costs of World War I resulting in a wide-spread suspicion of foreign entanglements. As a result there was a strong isolationist sentiment in Congress and among the public. This led Congress to pass the 1935 Neutrality Acts which stated the U.S. could trade with belligerents in foreign wars.
Escalation short of war
From 1939 to 1941, Roosevelt pursued a steady escalation of U.S. involvement short of becoming involved in the European war. Key elements of that escalation included:
- Cash-and-carry (1939) allowed Britain and France to purchase arms.
- Destroyers-for-bases (1940) provided Britain with vital naval assets.
- Lend-Lease (1941) transformed the U.S. into the “arsenal of democracy.”
- Naval patrols and Atlantic convoy escorts increasingly blurred the line between neutrality and belligerency.
- The Atlantic Charter (August 1941) publicly aligned U.S. war aims with Britain.
Roosevelt understood that these actions made eventual conflict with Germany likely, but he judged that preserving Britain and buying time outweighed the risks. Importantly, he often moved faster than public opinion but slower than his own private convictions, using executive authority and rhetorical framing to narrow the gap.
Strategic Ambiguity
Roosevelt’s diplomacy depended on strategic ambiguity. He avoided explicit war commitments while steadily expanding U.S. involvement. This ambiguity was essential domestically but costly diplomatically. Publicly, Roosevelt repeatedly promised not to send American troops into foreign wars but framed the actions he took, often by executive authority, as defensive or humanitarian. At the same time, privately, he anticipated war with Germany as increasingly likely and prepared the military and economy accordingly. This dual-track approach was politically effective but institutionally destabilizing, especially for the State Department.
Secretary of State Cordell Hull favored clear, principle-based diplomacy rooted in international law, multilateralism, and formal commitments. He believed that clarity strengthened deterrence and credibility. Roosevelt, by contrast, preferred personal diplomacy, trial balloons, and backchannels. FDR accepted ambiguity as a tool. In discussion with Hull and others he sometimes explored hypothetical compromises without formal follow-through. This created confusion about presidential priorities and led to some elements taking a “wait and see” approach while others believed they had just been given the “go ahead.”
Hull worried that Roosevelt’s improvisational style undercut the coherence of U.S. foreign policy, sent mixed signals to adversaries, and encouraged tactical maneuvering rather than genuine compliance. Nowhere was this tension more visible than in Japan policy, where Roosevelt’s willingness to entertain personal diplomacy (such as a potential Konoe summit) clashed with Hull’s insistence on firm principles. While Hull was razor focused on Japan and the Far East, Roosevelt’s primary strategic focus remained Europe, even as tensions with Japan escalated. He viewed Japan largely through the prism of the wider global struggle. FDR was concerned that a Japan aligned with Germany threatened the Atlantic strategy. Above all, he wanted to avoid a two-ocean war and yet he was not willing to abandon Britain or China in the Asia-Pacific theatre. The President believed that diplomatic pressure on Japan had little success given their internal factions and fractures. He believed economic pressure on Japan could deter further expansion without immediate war. However, Roosevelt’s strategic ambiguities sent mixed signals to Japan.
From Japan’s point of view the U.S. Navy remained concentrated in the Pacific and was meant to be a deterrent to Japan. Yet Roosevelt’s rhetoric and actions increasingly emphasized Germany as the principal enemy. Japan concluded that U.S. restraint in Europe (no declaration of war) and inferred American caution or division. In addition, it was noted that Roosevelt was impatient with prolonged negotiations which suggested to some in Tokyo that the U.S. sought delay rather than confrontation. Some historians believe Japan mimicked that style; others held it suited their own style of delay and ambiguity. In any case, Japan’s response strengthened Hull’s already held belief that Japan was exploiting negotiations to buy time, much as Germany had exploited diplomacy in the 1930s. Roosevelt’s continued openness to dialogue even as U.S. policy hardened deepened Hull’s fear that ambiguity was now enabling aggression rather than restraining it.
1941- Crises Converge
By mid-1941, Roosevelt’s balancing act became increasingly unstable as Germany invaded the Soviet Union, Japan moved into southern French Indochina., the U.S. froze Japanese assets and imposed an oil embargo, and Atlantic naval incidents with Germany intensified. Roosevelt now faced two converging paths to war, but still lacked public authorization for either. The result was a tragic irony: a strategy designed to prevent premature war may have contributed to miscalculation, especially in Tokyo, even as it prepared the United States to fight and ultimately win the war Roosevelt believed was unavoidable.
Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archives.
Peter’s Response
This coming Sunday is the 2nd Sunday in Lent. In yesterday’s post we looked at the theological elements of what Matthew likely intended in recounting the event. Today, we consider Peter’s response: Then Peter said to Jesus in reply, “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
As in 16:13-20, Peter again responds, again without a full understanding. Consider Peter’s proposal to make three tents (skēnḗ; also “booth” or “tabernacle”). What did he intend? It has been variously understood as traveler’s hut, the “tent of meeting” where God spoke with Moses outside the camp (Exod 33:7), a more formal tent used in the Festival of Booths (cf. Lev 23:42–43; Zech 14:16ff), and even as the Jerusalem Temple tabernacle. It is this last image that Matthew may have in mind as background – notwithstanding Peter’s intention. It is the Temple tabernacle where the Shekinah, the fiery cloud that symbolized the continuing presence of God among the people, dwelt over the ark of the covenant. The response to Peter’s proposal is three-fold (Boring, 364)
- The heavenly cloud of God’s presence appears, as on the tabernacle of Moses’ day and the later Temple. As of old, the heavenly voice comes from the cloud, and the God who had previously spoken on Mount Sinai only to Moses speaks directly to them. The heavenly voice speaks in exactly the same words as at the baptism (see 3:17), confirming the identity and mission of Jesus declared there, and confirming the confession Peter himself had made in the preceding scene (16:16).
- Although three transcendent figures are present, the heavenly voice charges the disciples to hear Jesus. As in the Shema (Deut 6:4), “hear” carries its OT connotation of “obey” and is the same command given with regard to the “prophet like Moses” whom God would send (Deut 18:15; cf. 13:57). The disciples fall on their faces in fearful response to the theophany, as in Exod 34:30; Dan 10:9; and Hab 3:2 LXX.
- Jesus comes to them (only here and 28:18 in Matthew, another parallel between this scene and the resurrection appearances) and touches them, and they see no one but “Jesus alone.” To focus all attention on Jesus and to distinguish him from Moses and Elijah, who have now disappeared, Matthew subtly rewritten Mark so that the word alone might stand here as the emphatic closing word of the scene. The heavenly visitors depart, but Jesus stays—Jesus alone. Without heavenly companions, without heavenly glory, he is the “tabernacle” (skene), the reality of God’s abiding presence with us (cf. 1:23; 28:20). The disciples descend from the mountain into the mundane world of suffering and mission, accompanied by Jesus, God with us.
“Coming down from the mountain” corresponds to going up the mountain in 17:1 and rounds off vv. 1-9 as a complete scene. Jesus’ calling the event a “vision” (only so in Matthew) does not imply the modern contrast between subjective experience and objective reality, which reduces the event to the disciples’ subjectivity. Jesus raises no questions about the reality of the event. Rather, the designation “vision” relates the event to the visionary/apocalyptic tradition, as has 16:17 (cf. Dan 8:16-17; 10:9-12, 16-19). The mention of the Passion/Resurrection as the end of the scene is not an expression of the messianic secret, as in Mark, but it reminds the disciples of all the barriers they themselves have experienced in believing Jesus as Messiah will suffer and die. If they have had such problems comprehending and trusting Jesus’ revelation to them, then how much more so will others have trouble believing the good news. Yet, it will be from a post-Easter perspective that others will be called to identify themselves with the disciples in the story.
Also laying in the background, another lesson each disciple, good and faithful Jews, needed to absoirb was that as great as Moses and Elijah were, each was only God’s servant, not his Son (3:17). Moses was the prototypical prophet, but he spoke of Jesus as the definitive eschatological prophet whose words must be heeded (Deut 18:15–19). Elijah’s ministry courageously stood for the law of Moses, but Jesus as the definitive teacher of that law brings it to its ultimate goal (5:17–19).
Image credit: Sunrise, Simon Berger, Pexels, CC
One Sign
In today’s first reading we hear from theBook of Jonah and Jesus’ reference to “the sign of Jonah.” I think we have been conditioned to think: “Jonah, three days in the belly of the whale. Jesus, three days in the tomb. Ok, the “sign of Jonah” must be Jesus’ Resurrection.” Maybe.
Continue readingDropping a Pin

In the flow of this series we have worked our way into 1941 as we covered several key events/periods on the way. There is a lot going on – probably best to “drop a pin” to locate us in this flow of history.
- The period of the “moral embargo” (1938 to July 1940) in which U.S. companies were asked to voluntarily limit exports and sales to Japan because of their aggressive behavior in China.
- The Export Control Act of July 1940 which stopped the sale of high grade aviation fuel (but not all aviation fuel), scrap iron, raw steel, and other materials. The argument was that these were needed for U.S. stocks – and they were – but it was also intended to stop the sale of these items to Japan. It did not stop bulk oil sales.
- In September of 1940 Japan signed the Tripartite Pact, aligning itself with the fascist nations of Nazi Germany and Mussolini’s Italy. In June 1941, Germany invaded Russia.
- In April 1941, Japan and the Soviet Union signed a neutrality pact. For the Soviets, free of worry about Japanese invasion in Mongolia or Siberia (as in the 1939 Nomohan Incident) they could move troops and equipment to their western front against Germany. For Japan, it removed concerns over their northern and northwestern flanks, freeing the movement south to resource and oil rich areas to the south.
- In the summer of 1941 the Japanese moved into Southern Indochina. The U.S. response was the Financial Freeze implemented in August 1941. Between the freeze and “slow roll” to approve exports, the net effect was a total oil embargo.
Another recent post discussed the unintended consequences of the financial freeze action, not only in Japan’s response, but in the less-than-unified action/reaction with the U.S. Departments of State and Treasury as there were too many “cooks in the kitchen” – Hull, Morgenthau, Hornbeck, Acheson, Grew and the list goes on. We also introduced a lot more background information on Japan’s Prince Konoe who served as Prime Minister for a long swath of time from late 1937 until late 1941. The background is necessary to understand how he will be perceived when the concept of a one-on-one summit with President Roosevelt is floated.
It’s a lot of information to keep straight and if you find it vague, disordered and confusing, so did the real time participants and 1940 and 1941. Presumptions, assumptions, misunderstandings, and more simply left the two nations at cross purposes.
There is a basic concept in communications: instantiation. “Instantiated” and “uninstantiated” communication refers to the difference between a specific, active, and concrete interaction (instantiated) and an abstract, potential, or theoretical idea (uninstantiated). Instead of talking about “a car” in general (abstract), you are talking about “my red Honda Civic” (instantiated) comparable to talking about the general idea of “bravery” without pointing to a specific, real-world example. Which is all just a fancy way of describing U.S. and Japanese diplomatic communications and negotiations. A simple way to describe it is to borrow the iconic words of the Prison Captain speaking to Luke (Paul Newman) in Cool Hand Luke: “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate.” The U.S. would offer general fundamental concepts (Hull’s Four Points) without detailing specific required actions. But then in another round, the actions were very concrete (“withdraw from China”) and did not take into considerations either military ability, public reaction in Japan, and the political liability to a Japanese figure who might support the idea – even as the start of negotiations. The U.S. was well aware of the very recent history of assassinations and even the ill-fated 1936 coup attempt by a radical element of the military.
On the other hand, Japan would ignore the four principles and then offer a response but it was uninstantiated in that the response was always open ended, contingent on some future state of things, e.g., the French Indochina government asks us to leave after they have had free and fair elections (… as we continue to occupy their nation). The U.S. reaction was mostly, “they’re stalling and not to be trusted.” The Japanese reaction was leaving things open ended in order to explore what new concessions would be wrangled. An example was:
- U.S. – respect recognized national boundaries and do not interfere in the internal dynamics of another nation. If that sounds like the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648 (for all you history buffs) you’d be correct. It was Hull’s basic approach. From those fundamental principles, Japan “had” to understand that meant withdrawing from China and not interfering.
- The Japanese response: we will withdraw from China two years after they settle their own internal struggles between the Nationalists and Communist Chinese factions and if the new government asks us to leave… and since we have agreed to your terms, please send oil now…. and by the way, Manchuria is not part of China. It is the nation of Manchukuo (that no foreign government recognized) and a friend to Japan.
That wasn’t exactly the diplomatic conversation, but it was exactly the dynamic between the principal diplomats. The backroom chatter from within the various U.S. and Japanese factions, ministries and departments only added to the cacophony of misunderstanding.
The purpose of this post was to “drop a pin” so that we could locate ourselves in the series. We are moving from 1940 into 1941. The above style of diplomatic exchange is becoming de facto. Factions within each government are hardening their positions. And cast over all of this are the presumptions, assumptions, misunderstandings that left the two nations at cross purposes only exacerbating the communications.
Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archives.
The Transfiguration
This coming Sunday is the 2nd Sunday in Lent. In yesterday’s post we considered the event of the Transfiguration itself. In today’s post we look at the theological elements of what Matthew likely intends in recounting the event: And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light.
The Transfiguration is a familiar account appearing in all three synoptic gospels. Perhaps it is too familiar and thus we are tempted to accept it and not stop and consider the significance of it. A limited number of modern scholars describe the narrative as a misplaced story of Jesus’ resurrection, his second coming, his heavenly enthronement, and/or his ascension. In other words, Matthew inserted/retrojected a story here for his own narrative purposes. Under such a provision lies some misgivings about miraculous and extraordinary events. But should we really have been surprised by the events of the Transfiguration and their location in the Matthean narrative?
The transfiguration of Jesus is an amazing event but not totally unexpected for Matthew’s readers. After all, Jesus had a miraculous birth, and his ministry began with the divine endorsement of his heavenly Father at the River Jordan baptismal scene (3:17). Jesus had done extraordinary works of compassion, demonstrated power over nature, and had taught the Law with an authority that was above and beyond any earthly authority. He had demonstrated supernatural power by feeding thousands of people with a few loaves of bread. Thus, Jesus’ transfiguration seems consistent with all that has been revealed so far in the gospel. Among the many things Matthew has narrated, we know this: Jesus is the Son of God, the fulfillment of Old Testament patterns and predictions, and he has promised a future Kingdom – a Kingdom whose proclamation and promotion will face continued conflict in Jesus’ remaining time as well as during the ministry of the disciples.
The account of Transfiguration echoes what has come before it in Matthew’s gospel and points to what is still to come. Consider the following:
- The transfiguration story recalls the baptism of Jesus and the voice from heaven designates him both the powerful Son of God and the weak suffering Servant (cf. 3:17). This commission is reconfirmed as Jesus begins to instruct his disciples on the meaning and cost of discipleship (16:24–28). Thus it is important that the scene follows the first passion prediction, confirming from heaven what had been questioned by Peter (16:23).
- The transfiguration story recalls and confirms Peter’s confession (16:16). Although Peter was divinely inspired to confess, he still did not seem to grasp the full significance of that revelation. The transfiguration is its own witness to the fullness of the revelation.
- The transfiguration story connects the confession of Jesus as Son of God and Jesus’ self-identification as Son of Man who suffers, is killed, and is vindicated by God, and will appear as judge at the parousia
- The transfiguration is a momentary uncovering of the Son of God’s own intrinsic glory, which has been temporarily veiled and will be revealed again at the resurrection and ascension (John 17:4–5, 24; Phil 2:5–11; Col 1:16–19; Heb 1:1–4). The transfiguration story anticipates the events of the Resurrection.
- The transfiguration is an integral part of Matthew’s high Christology and his eschatology. It authenticates both Jesus’ divine identity and God’s plan to occupy this world and rule it forever.
By the transfiguration, the disciples were given a glimpse of not only who Jesus is but also what he will one day bring to this world (see 2 Pet 1:16–18). Moses and Elijah are important figures, but they are not the main actors in the redemptive drama the disciples witness. As the scene ends, Moses and Elijah have exited, and only Jesus remains in the center of the stage. The “listen to him” of the transfiguration will become the “teaching them to observe all things I have commanded you” of the Great Commission (28:18-20)
And thus the transfiguration has significance for us. It gives us a glimpse into our destiny. Transformation begins already in this life. Seeing the glory of the Lord in the Spirit, the disciples are reminded that they were created in the image of him whose glory they see (2 Cor. 3:18). This is not mystical deification but a recovery/re-recognition of the divine likeness. It takes place in the ministry of the Spirit. It is not for an elite few but for all Christians. It is not just a hope for the future (cf. 1 Cor. 15:44ff.) but begins already with the Resurrection and the coming of the Spirit. It carries with it an imperative: “listen to him.” A significance of the transfiguration is that we obtain a glimpse of what we are and are becoming. As St Irenaeus famously said centuries ago: “The glory of God is the human person fully alive.”
Image credit: Sunrise, Simon Berger, Pexels, CC
Power and Life
Today’s first reading is one of my favorite chapters of the Old Testament: Isaiah 55. It always reminds me of the parable of the Sower and the Seed from the gospels with the Word of God being sent into the world on good and poor soil alike.
Starting in Isaiah 40, the prophet begins to describe the end of the Babylonian Exile period and the triumphant return of the People of God to Jerusalem. By the time the Prophet’s narrative arrives at Isaiah 55, Israel is invited to seek the Lord anew, forsaking the choices and ways that got them into Exile in the first place (Isaiah 55:6-7a). It is not the simple moral imperative, it is a reminder that echoes the beginning of Exodus 20: “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me” (Exodus 20:2-3). The Lord is now delivering them from Babylon with the same admonishment that the people received in Deuteronomy 34: choose life.
Isaiah has told them that they received what their choices deserved, but now they are encouraged to turn away from that which led them toward death and to turn again to the God of restoration and pardon. It is an OT moment: “Repent and believe in God’s Word” that echo the words of Ash Wednesday: “Repent and believe in the Gospel.” The people hearing Isaiah’s words are called to believe that God’s mercy and pardon triumph over God’s wrath. It is God’s mercy that gives life – and in today’s first reading Isaiah offers an illustration from the world around them.
“Just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down and do not return there till they have watered the earth…”
The heart of the image here is life. The earth is not that which gives life; it is the rain and snow, moisture from above, that causes the earth to proliferate, “making it fertile and fruitful, giving seed to the one who sows and bread to the one who eats.” Without the moisture, fertile and fruitful life shrivels-up. The power and the life is in the rain and snow.
The power and the life is in the Word of God: “So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; It shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it.” And what is that end? Repentance, faith, and salvation. We participate in this work of God. We don’t add to this work or validate it or accomplish it. This is God’s work done by way of God’s Word proclaimed.
And in Isaiah 55:12, the next verse just outside our reading Isaiah tells them that if the listen to the Word of God, take it as the compass of their journey in life, “Yes, in joy you shall go forth, in peace you shall be brought home; Mountains and hills shall break out in song before you, all trees of the field shall clap their hands.” Even the very earth will give witness to the power and life in the Word of God.
The Word of God has come to you again and again in your lifetime. Have you allowed it to make your life fertile, fruitful, and cooperate in God’s work in this world? Yes? Then in joy may you go forth to let that Word work in you to accomplish its end.
Image credit: Detail of “Sower Went Out to Sow” | Irish Dominican Photography | Brasov, Romania | CC-BY
The Year Before Pearl Harbor

In previous posts, we have tried to trace the Japanese strategic commitment to the southern strategy focused on the resource rich Southeast Asia mainland and Pacific Islands. The movements into Indochina brought about increasingly more stringent export controls and licensing for Japanese concerns, ratcheted up and hardened positions inside and outside government – especially within Japan where when the “military coughed, the Japanese cabinet developed pneumonia and collapsed.” With each cycle, the military was increasingly dominant in Japanese policy and strategy. There was a lot going on…

The “roadmap” above is nowhere as complex as the underlying reality and labyrinth pathways. Over the next several posts, the conversation will advance along threads that move from January 1941 until Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. Those posts are meant to be part of the buildup of background to understand organizations, factions within organizations, government departments, key persons and personalities, and more – all to set the context as we move ahead.
Back in one of the first posts, I asserted that the August 1941 “oil” (full) embargo did not start the war. The war in the Asia-Pacific region was already underway. One only needed to ask the Chinese, Vietnamese and Mongolians, as well as the Koreans. The full embargo of late July 1941 was a calculated political action by the U.S. in reaction to the Japanese occupation/invasion of French Indochina. It was a political action whose hope was to deter Japan from further expansion even further south to Hong Kong, Malay, Java, Borneo and the rest of the Dutch East Indies. Consider the map below (Sep 1939) and then add Indochina (Vietnam) and one can see Japan’s dagger is clearly aiming south.

To focus on only the oil embargo because Japan’s “economy” needed it, one has to remember it was a wartime economy that had already led to the deaths of 7 million Chinese by July 1941. Even if one chooses to only focus exclusively on the full embargo, one can ask:
- Was the embargo the decisive reason why Japan attacked Pearl Harbor or just more proximate than a collection of other reasons that was denying Japan unfettered access to war resources?
- The U.S. understood the goals for Japan southwest incursion, but did the U.S. truly understand the underlying motivations? I would suggest the U.S. perfectly understood Japan’s motivations and disagreed on moral and political grounds. Japan was fascism in the Asia-Pacific region – aligned to the fascist nations of Europe via the Tripartite Act.
- Did the U.S. have a clear understanding of the internal Japanese dynamic that increasingly marginalized any peace/negotiation faction as the military grew in stature and power? This was the shift that was transforming a potential Asia-Pacific trading partner into a deadly rival fixated on status, honor, and establishing its equivalent of the Asia-Pacific Monroe Doctrine.
- Was the embargo a virtual declaration of war hoping to draw Japan to military action so that the U.S. could enter the war in Europe? If so, then why was the U.S. so unprepared to fight any war, much less a two-ocean war?
- Clearly the December 1941 and early 1942 “blitzkrieg” across Southeast Asia, the Southwest Pacific, and Central Pacific regions accomplished the mission of (a) capturing the resource rich nations and (b) setting a “line of defense” west of Hawaii. Was the attack on Pearl Harbor necessary for the plan to access the resource rich lands to the southwest of Japan? Couldn’t they just have moved south and left a “blocking force” against the Philippines and prevented U.S. resupply?
- How did Japan so misjudge the U.S. public’s reaction to Pearl Harbor? Thanks to the movie “Tora!, Tora!, Tora!” we have Admiral Yamamoto, the architect of the Pearl Harbor attack, iconically uttering, “We have awoken the sleeping giant.” He never said that, but he should have because he clearly understood Japan could not win a protracted war.
Most, if not all, of the questions are not simply military moves and political reactions – but they form the milieu in which diplomatic dialogue swims. The external and internal dynamics make the path to diplomatic resolution akin to walking a moonless night in the wilderness with but only a lighted candle to show the way. There is light but its glow only reveals so much of the dark night. And as we will see in a later post, there are lots of things that “go bump in the night.”
Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archive. | Mapworks | Original timeline by G. Corrigan
Teaching Disciples
This coming Sunday is the 2nd Sunday in Lent. In yesterday’s post we reviewed the theme of conflict which is a recurring theme throughout Matthew’s gospel – a conflict which is building heading toward the events of Holy Week, a week in which the faith of the disciples will be sorely tested. In today’s post we consider the event of the Transfiguration itself.
Matthew 17:1-13 is an instructional session for all the disciples – note that in v.10, Peter, James and John have joined the remainder of the group. Just as the preceding scene (16:13-28) juxtapositions the divine transcendence of Peter’s confession of Jesus as Son of God based on a revelation from heaven (16:17) with Jesus’ own teaching about the suffering Son of Man, so also in this scene the confession of the heavenly voice is juxtaposed with Jesus’ self-confession as suffering Son of Man.
The description of the Transfiguration is brief—just the first three verses of Matthew 17. But the incident becomes the context for two significant incidents for the disciples.
- In the first, Peter’s hasty response to the glory of the Lord (…make three tents) is corrected by the same heavenly voice heard at Jesus’ baptism (17:4–8; cf. 3:17).
- In the second, Jesus once again forbids the disciples to make him known (cf. 16:20), which leads to their question about the future coming of Elijah (17:9–13).
Jesus answers their question cryptically in terms of a past coming of “Elijah,” and when he compares his own future suffering to what has happened to this “Elijah,” the disciples finally grasp that he is speaking of John the Baptist. Thus, the passage contains the transfiguration proper (17:1–3), a lesson on the fulfillment by Jesus of all that is promised in the Hebrew scriptures (17:4–8), and a lesson on the continuity of John the Baptist with Elijah of old and with Jesus himself (17:9–13).
Image credit: Sunrise, Simon Berger, Pexels, CC
At Cross Purposes

This second phase of the series on the Asia-Pacific War began with a goal of discovering if there was merit to the claims made by some historians that in the summer and autumn of 1941 the United States missed diplomatic opportunities that could have avoided war with Japan and at the same time took a series of economic actions that brought about U.S. involvement in the Second World War. The exploration has taken us from the pre-history to Japan of the early 20th century discovering currents, trends, events, personalities and changes that brought that nation to 1937. Along the way we considered the complex and evolving nature of Japan’s relationships with China, Korea, Russia, and the United States. All of this (and far more) were the ingredients in the mix that formed Japan’s strategic, economic, political, and civil policies.
A Future of the Asia Pacific Region
These policies brought Japan and the U.S. to a crossroad each having different objectives and visions of their roles and future in the Asia-Pacific region. The U.S. was committed to its own Westphalian vision of the world as its fundamental principles: democratic government (without kings or emperors), open markets with fair and free trade (at least in theory), respect for national boundaries and sovereignty (with an aversion to classic colonialism but with a Monroe Doctrine), and non-interference with the internal governance of another country (but trade and the Monroe Doctrine were priorities). Without a doubt that is so general a description it suffers in accuracy, but it has points and exceptions. Some of the exceptions are striking: Admiral Perry’s presence in Tokyo Bay ostensibly to open up trade in the western Pacific, the annexation of Hawaii, the territories of Guam and the Philippines, and its business interests in China. What was a fundamental driver of its Asia-Pacific ambitions? Business. The U.S. was a nation of massive natural resources, industrial power, financial wealth, and at least in a business sense, a drive to be a market leader. It was a country with minimal import needs and massive export capacity.
Japan was an island nation of limited key material natural resources, limited land for agriculture, a net importer of strategic raw materials and in the 20th century was over populated and a net importer of basic foodstuffs, even rice. While in its own history Japan had never been successfully invaded it was always concerned to the point of obsession with its vulnerability to invasion and embargo. The fall of the once great China to its state in the 19th and 20th centuries was a clarion call to protect Japan from the grip of the western colonial powers. This gave way to the transformation of the feudal samurai system to a modern army and navy based on European models, ultimately leading to rise in militarism that was only enhanced by Japan’s defeat of China and Russia within a 10 year period. Now it was ready to take its place and be recognized as a world power with a special sphere of influence in the western Pacific – a role and recognition it never received, only enhancing its sense of vulnerability to the western powers.
Colonialism and Racism
Japan abhorred western colonialism yet it had colonial ambitions for Korea (annexed in 1910) and Manchuria (conquered by 1932 and renamed the independent nation of Manchukuo) for both strategic buffer and for emigration of its people and access to food and raw materials. It participated in world trade but with a wary eye seeing what the “Open Market” policy (a U.S. initiative) had done to China. The Meiji Restoration and Constitution’s governance appeared as liberal democracy akin to Britain – and in many ways it was growing into it – but the military had an outsized place in the nation and without civilian control. The military was responsible only to the Emperor.
When modern people consider the 1942 internment of west coast U.S. citizens of Japanese origins, it is commonly held that it was basic racism and unwarranted fear that motivated the action. It was primarily fear and national politics, but that was just the immediate context for the underlying racism in California – which was present elsewhere. The U.S. federal government had to inject itself into California politics when the state passed laws restricting land ownership and segregating schools that applied only to Japanese. But in 1924, the federal government passed the 1924 Immigration Act which specifically excluded Japanese from U.S. and all territories, e.g. Hawaii. In 1924, 40% of Hawaiian residents were of Japanese origin. The U.S. was just more overt about racism as Japan had its own form.
Japan viewed all westerners as decadent, weak, uncultured and morally inferior. At the same time, this anti-Western racial critique coexisted with hierarchical and discriminatory attitudes toward other Asians, especially Chinese and Koreans, who were frequently described as backward and in need of discipline. The result was a contradictory worldview: Japan opposed Western racism in principle, yet practiced its own racial and cultural hierarchy in Asia, a tension that shaped both its propaganda and its imperial conduct in the 1930s.
A Cautious Eye
These were the two nations that arrived at the crossroads of the 20th century each casting a cautious eye towards the other, each sensing that the other would be the inevitable rival. Early in the century each country, as is prudent, developed “what if” war strategies. Both countries were adherents of Mahan’s theory of naval power (The Influence of Sea Power upon History) and saw in each other threat to their own ambitions. Each nation’s naval war colleges developed and adjusted its Pacific strategies. Virtually every senior naval leader in the Pacific had studied these and contributed to it as new circumstances, technology, and situations arose. As one historian noted: “it was part of their DNA.”
Japan’s army faced west and northwest to expand its colonial ambitions on the Asian mainland. Japan’s navy faced south to the oil rich regions of the Pacific island nations as it also faced east to the U.S. its current major supply of oil and ship building materials. The U.S. navy had missions in the Atlantic and Pacific but only enough assets for a “one-ocean navy”. After World War I, the U.S. interest was controlling navies and the status quo. This led to the 1922 Washington Conference that established limits on capital ships. It also ultimately led to deep divisions with the Imperial Navy. One faction knew it could never match U.S. industrial power and wanted to avoid a naval arms race and was satisfied that the limits were within the Mahanian theory in that the U.S. would have to transit the Pacific Ocean. The other faction was more driven by an ideology of the Navy as the ocean guardian of the Imperial destiny of a greater Asia led by the Emperor. The Washington treaty was a barrier and worse, an insult to national honor.
Key Figures at the Crossroads
By 1937 it seems fair to say that Japan was a nation with an amazing degree of disunity within – and a single key to the unity of the nation as a whole: the Emperor and the idea of kokutai – and these were not clear to West nor it seems to Emperor Hirohito himself as to the role he could play.
Historians do not agree on the role Hirohito played in the path to the Asia Pacific War. He was the Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces, yet his Kwantung Army in Manchuria feels free to do what it wants, not expecting and not receiving punishment for their actions. Emperor Hirohito’s response to incidents such as the Marco Polo Bridge affair was to “fire” the Prime Minister but not to take any action within Army ranks. This does not seem to indicate Hirohito feels he should be an absolute monarch or even the “buck stops here” commander-in-chief. The range of views includes Herbert Bix’s assessment that Hirohito was an active, knowledgeable, directive monarch and had a key role in strategic military decisions. There is historian Stephen Large’s idea of “self-induced neutrality” in which Hirohito knew his power and authority but withheld its use to allow others to lead. The historian Peter Wetzler’s version is that the Emperor periodically put his thumb on the scale but he did not see himself responsible for the result. This version sees Hirohito aware of Japanese atrocities but taking no action to intervene but in the end it was Hirohio’s “thumb on the scale” that ended the war.
And yet the man and his role in Japanese governance was unclear at best to 1940 Washington leaders. But hardly less clear were key government positions. Between July 1937 and December 1941 there were nine different people serving in the role of Foreign Minister. There were six different Prime Ministers in that same period although Prince Konoe served for a total of 12 months and during critical periods.
In that same period Roosevelt was President and Cordell was Secretary of State – but they were not always on the “same page.” Hull was very territorial of his role and believed the role of the President was to set macro-level policy and everything else was the purview of the Secretary of State. But Roosevelt dabbled in foreign policy from time to time. Hull’s irritation with Roosevelt’s “dabbling” in Japan policy between 1937 and 1941 stemmed from the president’s habit of personal, informal, and sometimes contradictory diplomatic initiatives, which Hull feared undercut coherence, leverage, and credibility.
Roosevelt was noted and preferred back-channel and personal diplomacy. Most notably, FDR repeatedly encouraged or entertained the idea of a personal summit with Japanese leaders (especially Prince Konoe in 1941), sometimes through intermediaries or informal messages, without firm preconditions. Roosevelt also floated tentative peace feelers, exploratory trial balloons, and hypothetical compromises often orally, ambiguously, or indirectly rather than through formal diplomatic notes. In addition, FDR occasionally made public statements or private assurances that suggested flexibility (or restraint) that had not been fully coordinated with the State Department.
Hull’s experience was that Japan used negotiations tactically to buy time while consolidating aggression in China and preparing for further expansion. Roosevelt’s informal probes, in Hull’s view, risked sending mixed signals about U.S. resolve and principles, weakened bargaining leverage by suggesting concessions before Japan changed behavior, undermined State Department control over a carefully constructed, principle-based negotiating position, and encouraging Tokyo to believe that persistence or pressure might extract a deal from the president personally
Hull favored clear, written, multilateral, principle-driven diplomacy (non-aggression, territorial integrity, Open Door), whereas Roosevelt favored personal flexibility and strategic ambiguity. To Hull, the president’s “dabbling” threatened to turn diplomacy into improvisation at precisely the moment when clarity and firmness, he believed, were essential.
Even though our “cast of characters” was consistent, Hull was concerned the “message” was not. This added a degree of uncertainty to any dialogue that was compounded by the frequent changes in Japan. As one might imagine this was the tip of the iceberg. More details were provided in the post American Diplomacy in 1937 which describes a lack of unified thinking with the State Department.
The Crosses
There are cross purposes, crossroads, crossed messages and more. In July 1940, the United States initiated significant export restrictions against Japan by passing the Export Control Act which allowed the President to license or prohibit the export of essential defense materials. Roosevelt restricted licenses for high-grade aviation gasoline, lubricating oil, and certain iron and steel scrap. These measures aimed to curb Japanese aggression, specifically in response to pressure on French Indochina, without triggering an immediate, total war-inducing oil embargo. In general, they were also intended to impact Japan’s aggression in China. These actions followed earlier 1938–1939 “moral embargoes” on aircraft and raw materials. All this complicated any foreign policy dialog between nations that were only going to become more difficult.
In November of 1940 retired Admiral Nomura was assigned as Ambassador to the United States. When Emperor Hirohito was in his teens, Nomura was one of his private tutors. He also served as Naval Attache in Washington DC when Franklin Roosevelt was Assistant Secretary of the Navy. They were friends and so it was hoped that the connections to the leaders of the two nations would help communications. But neither the Foreign Ministry nor State Department wanted such channels open and required formal communications through the usual chain.
Ambassador Noruma was also not in the mainstream of senior naval officers as he was known to be a supporter of the 1922 naval treaties. He understood that the U.S. was the nexus between industrial power and ultimate sea power. He was also one of the few senior people who understood that the American public would see any Japanese-U.S. conflict as a battle of fascism vs. democracy, and also if Japan moved against British interests in the Pacific, Britain would be fully supported.
He recognized that the only bulwark to prevent Japanese-US conflict would be if senior naval leadership acknowledged that Japan could not prevail in a protracted war with the United States nor would there be the “decisive battle” that caused the U.S. to negotiate a peace. Once bloodied, the U.S. could bring its industrial power to bear and in the interim the American public would give enduring support to war efforts. All of these positions were mixed at best among senior naval leaders. Among mid and junior naval officers these were discarded as weak thinking. This group was very positive about the Tripartite Pact with Germany and sought distinction in a naval move into the Southwest Pacific.
Nomura made his views known to Navy Minister Oikawa and Fleet Admiral Yamamoto who agreed. Yet former Prime Minister Yonai (a naval officer) warned Nomura that he was being sent as the scapegoat. He warned that Foreign Minister Matsuoka would take credit for any success and blame Nomura for setbacks and failures. At best Matsuoka would sweep into Washington DC with a separate agenda and negotiate as he had done in Berlin and Moscow.
As one dedicated in service to his nation, he accepted the position. And in a harbinger of things to come he was sent without specific policy instructions.
When he arrived in Washington DC his naval attache was Capt. Yokoyama with whom he had served in the Military Mission in Britain years before. Yokoyama shared Nomura’s ideas and perspectives. But the American concerns in that time period were not Japan. The administration was focused on Europe having established a “Europe First” policy. The goals were munitions and supplies to Britain and convoy escort and protection. U.S. Chief of Operations Stark (the title was actually different) bluntly told Nomura that war with Japan was “when, not if.”
This is the diplomatic milieu facing Japan and the United States at the beginning of 1941.
Stay tuned…
Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archives.
Iconic
On this day in February 1945 on Iwo Jima, four days after the initial landings, Harold G. Schrier led a 40-man patrol up Mount Suribachi with a small American flag provided by Chandler Johnson. After a brief firefight with Japanese defenders, the flag—reportedly obtained from the attack transport USS Missoula (APA‑211)—was raised over the crater. Later that day, a larger eight-foot ensign from the tank landing ship LST‑779 replaced it. As Marines struggled to hoist the second flag, John H. Bradley and fellow servicemen were captured on film by Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal, creating one of the most iconic photographs of the twentieth century.
Image credit: Raising the Flag on Iwo Jima, by Joe Rosenthal of the Associated Press |Wikimedia Commons