In school, I did a research project on Japan’s Unit 731. It was the first time I’ve found myself completely immersed in schoolwork, unable to stop reading, but it wasn’t because the topic of biological warfare particularly interested me, but because I could not believe it. One key detail stood out to me: the US’s coverup of the whole thing after WWII.
The history of experiments was grotesque- vivisections without anesthesia, frostbite tests on live subjects, plague bombs dropped on Chinese civilians. There’s no doubt that these are atrocities widely considered to be war crimes and crimes against humanity. Around the same time, the world was holding the Nuremberg Trials, punishing Nazi doctors and SS officers for similar crimes. Many were executed or imprisoned for life. And yet, many Japanese officers and staff responsible for Unit 731 walked free.
Why? Because the U.S. had an ulterior motive. In my project, while researching de-classified correspondence between American officials and interview records, a pattern was obvious: The U.S. wasn’t particularly interested in justice; it was interested in leverage. With the Cold War beginning to take shape, the U.S. feared that the Soviets would gain scientific and military superiority and therefore global influence. And Unit 731’s data, as horrifying as its origins were, made huge advancements in medical science. For example, today’s leading treatment for frostbite was discovered during its experiments, and leaps were made in understanding disease transmission.
The logic probably went like this: what’s done is done. If someone is going to use the findings of the experiments, it might as well be the U.S. So, in exchange for exclusive access to Unit 731’s research, American officials granted immunity to many of the perpetrators. Most official documents surrounding the cases are still classified even now, only some having gone through rounds of de-classification.
I found myself surprisingly torn. Obviously, it was wrong to cover up this horrifying case and let its perpetrators go free. As a Chinese person, there is also a personal weight to this history- these victims weren’t just abstract numbers in an articles. There were people who looked like my grandparents, who lived in cities I’ve visited, who suffered not just violence but erasure. It’s easy to be anger, not just at Japan’s wartime cruelty, but at the U.S.s for choosing strategic advantage over justice. On the other hand, though, there is no doubt that some of the research done there has been useful (from a strictly scientific standpoint). Some may even argue that acquiring this data helped the U.S. solidify its position as a global leader after WWII, particularly as tensions with the Soviet Union escalated.
So finally, the question is: What do we do with knowledge born from suffering? Can it ever be ethically neutral? Or is it permanently stained by the means of its creation?