The militarization of Germany and Japan

We are living through a complete disaster. Writers and thinkers were expressing this ten years ago. After World War II, the last pillars of the world—built with great cost, meticulously crafted—are also collapsing before our eyes.

The world constructed in 1945 was a system of balances. Every entity was balanced by its opposite. It was a multi-layered system of checks. There existed, so to speak, an engineering achievement. For example, in that world, it was impossible to make an absolute defense of capitalism or liberal values. The values of the socialist camp made them debatable. Likewise, when you began to absolutely defend the socialist system and its values, you would face the objection of capitalist/liberal-democratic values. You could not, say, fuel the economy with infinite and absolute profit maximization along its own asymptote. In that case, the checks of the political sphere would await you. The same applied to politics. Moreover, political structures organized on the nation-state level would also encounter resistance from international and supranational structures that transcended them to a greater or lesser degree. Yes, back then, the enforcement power of these was not tremendous. But ignoring them would cause a deep legitimacy crisis for any national structure. And that was no small thing. In short, every action was, in some way, prevented from becoming extreme.

Extremism was the spirit of the 19th century. At the center of it all was a medium generated by capital's own growth and expansion. This was a savage intensification through industrial capitalism. That it would lead to deep social/class crises was inevitable. The savage extremism of capital was material in nature. Its reflections in life emerged in immense diversity. The great cultural, philosophical, and literary growth of the 19th century was also a function of this. Magnificent philosophical works were written in this century. Extraordinary literary texts, especially novels, were as well. What was produced in every field of art can be evaluated along these lines. Essentially, all of these were forms of extremity. Crafts flow gently within tradition, through circular repetitions. But isn't art and the artist an "extreme" being that constantly agitates this flow and, when necessary, sets out with the claim of "creating" counter-currents against that great flow? The material dimension of extremism was savage. To oppose this with moral motives is extremely easy and simple. But we cannot say the same for processing it culturally and transforming it into effective resistance. For that, a counter-extremism is required. And that is precisely what the intellectual/artistic world of the 19th century did. Narrating the material dimension of the process is, of course, nauseating. Émile Zola counters it with Germinal, and John Steinbeck with The Grapes of Wrath. There, they make the entire weight of the process felt, while also treating the resilience arising from human humanity within it as a hope. The material dimension of the process is cursed, but its cultural dimension is, on the contrary, worthy of exaltation and celebration. What needs to be noted here is not to neglect the deep connections between both dimensions.

However, the work of intensification did not stop there. Ideologies also came into play. That is why the ideological condition itself is to be understood as an extremity. It is usual for ideological processes to fall into a Machiavellian paradox, to see every kind of tool as legitimate on the path to the goal, and to tragically lurch. And it is here that the problem emerged. World War II escalated as Nazism and Fascism eliminated their rivals among these extremities. The crises caused by accumulation and distribution naturally deepened this process. These ideologies, within their own intensifications, added a military dimension to the savage accumulation and expansion processes of capitalism. The result was a complete disaster, with tens of millions dead. What is striking is that the danger originated from two late-modern societies, Germany and Japan, one in Northern Europe and the other in the Pacific. These were nations that industrialized while remaining tied to strong traditions of landed gentry with a high culture of discipline and obedience, and that quickly militarized on the basis of these cultural particularities. The 20th century, beginning in 1945, is the world of regulations and structures built to avoid repeating the catastrophe. It was extremely reasonable to start with the dismantling of the military structures of Germany and Japan.

Just as the 19th century was the age of extremes, the 20th century is the age of pacifications. Yes, the literatures, arts, and ideas of the 20th century will not be as brilliant as those of the 19th. In keeping with the spirit of the century, they will produce quite pacifying outputs.

The collapse of the Soviet Union, the Eastern Bloc, and real socialism was greeted with a festive, wedding-like atmosphere. It was declared that the Unipolar World had now been established. We see that this process was based on a profound critique of the 20th century. The 20th century was now remembered and condemned as a degenerate, sluggish deadlock. It is often emphasized that the collapse of the Soviets opened the way for humanity. Until the 2020s, the institutions and organizations of the old world remained standing, more or less. But with each passing day, they lost blood and became dysfunctional. After the 2020s, especially starting with the Russia-Ukraine war, they have been reduced to mere signboards.

The 21st century is neither an age of extremes like the 19th, nor an age of pacifications like the 20th. This century is distinguished as an age of provocations, beginning with consumption-oriented daily life. This is the main motive governing its politics, economy, culture, and literature. In the voids that emerge, we hear news every day that Japan and Germany, as two sleeping giants, are rapidly militarizing. Of course, the context is very different from that of the 19th century. There are serious doubts that either current German or Japanese society can achieve this course. I share these doubts. But I must also state that I keep the margin of consideration open. Historical/cultural mental codes do not disappear. You never know. If they do succeed, we will certainly not have returned to the 19th century. History does not repeat itself. But, in the words of my friend Professor Dr. Taşansu Türker, who wrote a book with a quote from Mark Twain, it rhymes with itself. The 20th century wrote a counterpoint to the extremes of the 19th. Could the 21st century not be writing a rhyme to it?