Epilogue: How VJ Day is Remembered Across Asia

With Beijing's "Victory" parade in full swing today (September 3), I decided to write a short post about historical memory which is a key theme that runs throughout "Palace of Ghosts: Singapore's Untold History"

Find out more about the book

In many ways this post may also be considered as an epilogue to my recently concluded 5 part series on one of the most enigmatic characters in the book Yoshichika Tokugawa.

How is VJ Day remembered across Asia—and what does that say about the stories we choose to tell?

At first glance, this may seem like a departure from the storyline of Palace of Ghosts. And in a narrow sense, it is. But I’ve chosen to explore this topic because the way we remember—or misremember—VJ Day reveals deeper, unresolved tensions in historical memory.

These tensions sit at the very heart of Palace of Ghosts. The book is not just about events, but about narrative power: who controls the story, what is preserved, what is buried. The politics of memory—whether in national commemorations or personal relationships—shapes how identities are formed and how histories are judged.

Across Asia, VJ Day is not a single, unified memory. It is fragmented, contested, and often politically charged, raising questions about collective identity, forgotten allies, and moral ambiguity. These same questions echo throughout the story I’ve written—especially through the complex friendship between Sultan Ibrahim and Marquis Tokugawa, set against the shifting loyalties of a world at war.

In this post, we look at how different countries remember the end of the war—and what that selective remembrance tells us about truth, loyalty, and the ghosts we choose to live with.

 

🇯🇵🇨🇳🇸🇬🇲🇾 VJ Day in Asia: Memory, Myth, and the Politics of Remembrance

From Tyersall to Tokyo: Shadows of Empire and the Ghosts of Truth.

Every year, in August or September, countries across Asia commemorate the end of World War II (WWII) in the Pacific — a day widely known as Victory over Japan Day (VJ Day). Yet unlike in the West, where it's largely treated as a chapter closed, in Asia the day remains a contested memorial battleground, fraught with selective remembrance, political agendas, and competing narratives of who suffered, who fought, and who should be remembered.

In many ways, it’s a perfect moment to reflect upon the themes of my Tokugawa series, and especially to the haunted legacy explored in Palace of Ghosts, where the personal friendship between Sultan Ibrahim of Johor and Marquis Yoshichika Tokugawa is set against the backdrop of invasion, betrayal, and empire.

 

📅 The Date Itself: No Consensus

China officially commemorates VJ Day on September 3rd, known as the "Victory of the Chinese People’s War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression."

Japan marks August 15th — the date Emperor Hirohito announced Japan’s surrender — but does so with quiet mourning, not celebration.

Singapore, Malaysia, the Philippines, and other Southeast Asian nations also recall August 15 or 16, often informally, and with a very different emotional register: liberation, yes — but also the trauma of occupation and betrayal.

 

🧱 China's Narrative: Heroism, But Whose?

I recently attended a presentation at the Royal Asiatic Society Beijing where the distinguished military historian Dr. David Finkle presented a fascinating account of how the united States and China cooperated in the China-Burma-India theatre. He presentation was titled “Once We Were Allies”. At this time, in the early 1940s China’s survival depended on assistance from the US. Furthermore, according to Finkle, this theater was the most difficult of all theaters in WWII.

Here is the full presentation on Youtube, a bit lengthy, but super interesting and lots of amazing images

The story is a fascinating account of the American-China cooperation in Southwest China and Burma. Especially so when considered along with British and Indian campaign at Impal and Kohima in the northeast of India in the western Burma borderlands, said by some to be Japan’s largest military defeat outside of Japan itself. With the finality of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombs, the war in Asia ended. General He Yingqin of the Kuomintang (KMT) accepted the surrender of the Japanese in Nanjing. The Republic of China was the Chinese signatory to the surrender. It was indeed a victory for the allies all across Asia: Chinese–both in China and also including overseas Chinese in Asia–Americas and, yes, British, Indians, Australians, Filipinos, Burmese, Malays and countless others who fought and died together as allies against the Japanese. “Once We Were Allies” resonates today with a powerful force.

In China today, VJ Day is a solemn, state-led remembrance of resistance. Military parades, documentaries, and educational programs reinforce the heroism of the Chinese people only — particularly the role of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP).

China's September 3 parade in Tiananmen Square, Beijing

But this is where things get complicated.

In truth, it was the Nationalist government under Chiang Kai-shek (KMT) that bore the brunt of Japan’s military assault. From the bloody defense of Shanghai to the retreat through Wuhan and the campaigns in Yunnan, it was KMT forces who fought the bulk of Japan’s army, suffered the greatest losses, and received most of the Allied support.

Yet in the People’s Republic of China, this contribution is largely erased or minimized. The CCP, which focused more on guerrilla warfare and consolidating control of rural areas, is portrayed as the central resistance force — a postwar narrative crafted to bolster its legitimacy.

 

🎖 Forgotten Allies

China isn't the only place where the past is politicized.

In many official commemorations across the region:

The suffering of local Asian populations and resistance fighters in countries like the Philippines, Indonesia, or Vietnam is fragmented across national memory.

The vast role of Indian soldiers — who made up the bulk of Allied troops in the Burma campaign, (where Japan’s greatest overseas military defeat took place), and helped liberate Malaya and Singapore — is barely remembered.

The sacrifices of British and Commonwealth forces are downplayed or omitted.

Even Japan’s victims are unequally remembered. The Nanjing Massacre is central to Chinese remembrance, but comfort women, forced laborers, and POWs — both Asian and Western — often struggle to find space in official memorials, depending on the country.

 

🧶 The Frayed Loose Ends of WWII in Asia

Dr. Finkle made a intriguing comment during his presentation:

“The seeds of the Cold War lay in the unfinished business of the China-Burma-India theater at the end of WWII.”

With global Communist project still in its long death spiral, many continue to experience is grim legacy.

How much of this was to do with actual events, the interpretation of these events, or just the forgetting or ignoring of things, places or people that played a part in the story is a matter of conjecture. You may think it’s all best forgotten: to let sleeping dogs lie. Maybe, but those dogs are far from being peacefully sleeping and the sad ramifications of those times continue to manifest still, 80 years on from when it was supposed to have been all over.

 

🏯 Tokugawa and the Ghosts of Truth

This is where Palace of Ghosts and the Tokugawa storyline come full circle.

Marquis Yoshichika Tokugawa, a scion of Japan’s old samurai aristocracy, wasn’t just a ceremonial figure. His close ties with Sultan Ibrahim of Johor, forged in the tiger-filled jungles of pre-war Malaya, positioned him at the intersection of diplomacy, espionage, and imperial ambition.

The question is: Was he a friend—or a frontman?

In the fog of war, the truth becomes hard to disentangle. Like so much of WWII memory in Asia, personal loyalties blur into political betrayals, and historical memory becomes a weapon — what is remembered is often less than what is forgotten.

 

⚖️ Why Memory Still Matters

VJ Day is more than a historical marker. It’s a mirror, reflecting what each society wants to believe about its past. And sometimes, what it wants others to forget.

That’s why I wrote Palace of Ghosts: not just to tell the story of two abandoned royal palaces, but to illuminate the murky borders between truth and myth, loyalty and opportunism — events and dramas which elude closure and where ghosts linger still. It’s a history that few today know about and are therefore unable to connect to. How this plays out in the present has surprising consequences which I explore in the final chapters of my book.

Find out more about the book







Comments

Popular posts from this blog

"Singapore Swaps Prime Land With Malaysia Billionaire King’s Son"

Part 4. The 1934 Royal Visit to Japan

The Tragic Life of Lydia Cecilia Hill