An Ethical History of Photography in Combat and of Combat Photography in the United States during World War II

With the United States‘ entry into the Second World War, the word ?censorship? was seen largely as antithetical to, rather than a necessary counterpart to, victory among Americans. People did not want to be censored in their writing, photographs or speech,but it proved to be necessary even before the war began, in order to protect government secrets and the people on the home-front from scenes that were too disturbing. Even before the war had officially begun, there were problems with censorship among journalists and newspapers. The initial response of outrage in reference to censorship in the United States was common among journalists, newspapers, magazines, and radio news; nevertheless, there was a necessity for censorship among Americans, on the home frontand the front lines, and it would be tolerated throughout the war to ensure that enemies of America did not gain access to information that would assist in a defeat of the United States in the Second World War. The research I have conducted has dealt with the censorship of combat photography during World War II, in conjunction with the ethics that were in play at the time that affected the censors. Through exploring the work of three combat photographers — Tony Vaccaro, James R. Stephens and Charles E. Sumners — I wasable to effectively construct an explanatory ethical history of these three men. Research on the censorship and effects it had on the United States brought me to three distinctareas of censorship and ethics that would be explored: (1) the restrictions and limitations enforced by the Office of Censorship, (2) a general overview of war and photography as it influenced the soldiers and their families on the home-front, (3) and the combat photographers and personal and military censorship that influenced their work. Although their work was censored both by the military and the government, these men saw the war in a different light that remained with them long after the battles and war had ceased.Using the narratives of Tony Vaccaro, Charles E. Sumners and James R. Stephens as means for more in depth research, this thesis strives to create lenses through which to view the history and ethics of censorship that shaped combat photography during the Second World War and the images to which we refer as representative of that war today.

The Pursuit of Tangible Happiness: Religion and Politics in a Japanese New, New Religion

The decline of traditional religions in Japan in the past century, and especially since the end of World War Two, has led to an explosion of so-called “new religions” (shin shūkyō 新宗教), many of which have made forays into the political realm. The best known—and most controversial—example of a “political” new religion is Sōka Gakkai 創価学会, a lay Buddhist movement originally associated with the Nichiren sect that in the 1960s gave birth to a new political party, Komeitō 公明党 (lit., Clean Government Party), which in the past several decades has emerged as the third most popular party in Japan (as New Komeitō). Since the 1980s, Japan has also seen the emergence of so-called “new, new religions” (shin shin shūkyō 新新宗教), which tend to be more technologically savvy and less socially concerned (and, in the eyes of critics, more akin to “cults” than the earlier new religions). One new, new religion known as Kōfuku-no-Kagaku 幸福の科学 (lit., Institute for Research in Human Happiness or simply Happy Science), founded in 1986 by Ōkawa Ryūho 大川隆法, has very recently developed its own political party, Kōfuku Jitsugentō 幸福実現党 (The Realization of Happiness Party). This article will analyse the political ideals of Kōfuku Jitsugentō in relation to its religious teachings, in an attempt to situate the movement within the broader tradition of religio-political syncretism in Japan. In particular, it will examine the recent “manifesto” of Kōfuku Jitsugentō in relation to those of New Komeitō and “secular” political parties such as the Liberal Democratic Party (Jimintō 自民党) and the Democratic Party (Minshutō 民主党).

Spinning Song

More than twelve years ago, during the car rides to school, my paternal grandmother, or Obasan as she is known in our family, first began telling me her stories about living in the Philippines during the Japanese Occupation. At the time, I did not know much about World War II, but her stories about being captured by the Japanese soldiersfascinated me. Years have passed, and only recently did I really begin to grasp not only the poignancy of these accounts, but also their importance in a larger context. The absence of first-hand narratives about World War II and the Japanese Occupation of the Philippines from the point of view of a Filipino woman is problematic, and I hope that my grandmother’s story can fill this hole in war literature. There are two main parts to the narrative. The first eight chapters of my thesis are about the early years of the Japanese Occupation. During this time, Obasan and her familylived a relatively peaceful life, with the exception of a few troubling encounters with the Japanese. The last seven chapters recount the Liberation of the Philippines and the days when Obasan and her family were held captive by the Japanese. The primary sources for this thesis are the interviews I have conducted with my grandmother over the course of this year and her own handwritten memoir that she composed in the last two decades. I focus specifically on the three chapters that she wrote about the war. I have also included poems written by women and historical background on the Philippines and World War II. Spinning Song is what I call a hybrid-memoir, as it retells Obasan’s stories about the war and explores the ways in which our experiences as grandmother and granddaughter intersect. More importantly, it is my way of preserving the legacy of my grandmother and paying tribute to the woman who has shaped much of who I am today.