The tired, bespectacled little man whom the Japanese regard as the Son of Heaven emerged from his walled and moated palace for the first time since the conquerors had landed in his country. He wore a cutaway, striped trousers, a wing collar, a top hat. He climbed into an old but immaculate Daimler. His Imperial Grand Chamberlain sat reverently facing him on a jump seat.
Convoyed by a small motorcade, Emperor Hirohito’s car moved through the streets of Tokyo. At the gates of the U.S. Embassy, U.S. guards presented arms. Two U.S. officers escorted him to the huge, dark-paneled, cream-trimmed living room, where General MacArthur was waiting. MacArthur, who wore a ribbonless shirt open at the throat, shook hands and said, “Good morning.”
Hirohito consented to pose with MacArthur for a Signal Corps picture. Then he and the Supreme Commander talked alone (through an interpreter) for 38 minutes. When he came out, the Emperor saw a cluster of U.S. correspondents, doffed his high hat and just perceptibly bowed.
Propaganda, Maybe. Evidently the Son of Heaven was bestirring himself on behalf of his unhappy people. MacArthur had not invited the visit; the Emperor had asked (through his Grand Chamberlain) to see MacArthur. Previously Hirohito had granted press interviews to Frank Kluckhohn of the New York Times and Hugh Baillie of United Press (see PRESS). He asked them some questions, wished them well, and answered their own questions in writing. If he was making propaganda, he did it gracefully. He said that Tojo had abused the imperial war rescript in the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor; he hoped that Japan would become a democratic constitutional monarchy somewhat like Britain’s (Japan has had a constitution of sorts since 1889).
The rumor mills had it that Hirohito, while closeted with MacArthur, discussed abdication in favor of Crown Prince Akihito, 11, and a regency. But there was no visible pressure on him to leave the throne. If abdication was in fact discussed, it was because Hirohito himself wanted it.
Descent to the Earth. To the horrified Japanese Home Ministry, it seemed that the Son of Heaven had stepped down to a very earthy earth. The photograph was especially painful, for it showed MacArthur, in informal attire, towering over the fussily dressed Emperor (whom no mortal is supposed to behold from above). The Ministry suppressed editions of Asahi, Mainichi and Yomiuri Hochi, which car ried both the picture and reports of the meeting. MacArthur sternly ordered the banned papers released to the public.
As nothing else could, the imperial homage to MacArthur told the people that Japan was truly beaten. A railway ticket-seller, when he heard the news, dropped his rice bowl, laid his head on the counter and wept. He said: “My heart is frozen.”
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