After the 2019 El Paso shooting, when a white nationalist killed 23 people at a Walmart, President Trump called it “an act of cowardice.” He did not refer to the massacre as a hate crime or terrorist act. Instead, he called the 21-year-old shooter Patrick Wood Crusius a coward.
Trump is not the first politician to misuse the English language, diverging from standard definitions found in dictionaries. After the 9/11 attacks, George W. Bush called the suicide attackers cowards, and other politicians, including Hillary Clinton, agreed.
According to Merriam-Webster, a coward is someone “who shows disgraceful fear or timidity.” Unquestionably, terrorists are disgraceful for selecting helpless victims, but they are hardly timid or fearful of death. Perhaps, politicians feel that the word is an insult to murderous extremists. But if they were truly cowards, the killers would have stayed home, hiding under their bed covers.
As the word “coward” is fraught with misusage, so can the opposite term “hero.” And the war drama Letters from Iwo Jima examines individuals during the heat of battle, questioning who are the cowards and heroes.
Battle of Iwo Jima (britannica.com)
The director Clint Eastwood tells a World War II story from the Japanese perspective based on the non-fiction book Picture Letters from the Commander in Chief by General Tadamichi Kuribayashi. The narrative sheds light on the hopeless army protecting the small island (Iwo Jima) from a massive U.S. attack. Nearly 20,000 Japanese soldiers needlessly died, and the film begs the audience to search for heroes among the doomed men.
In literature, the protagonist represents the hero. Thus, Private Saigo (played by Kazunari Ninomiya), arguably the primary character in Letters from Iwo Jima, is the de facto hero of the story. However, his actions are contrary to the traditional (non-literary) definition of a hero.
Kazunari Ninomiya as Private Saigo
According to Merriam-Webster, a hero is “an illustrious warrior,” “a person admired for achievements and noble qualities,” or “one who shows great courage.” Saigo represents none of these definitions. Instead, he is fearful and timid, fitting the dictionary definition of a coward. However, he is only disgraceful from a particular perspective.
In Japanese society during World War II, those who die in battle, either by enemy fire or suicide, were revered at the Yasukuni Shrine, a Shinto religious monument in Tokyo. Thus, the doomed soldiers on Iwo Jima were considered heroes. Conversely, Saigo, who is reluctant to fight and wants to surrender, is a disgraceful coward in the eyes of the Japanese. But the film examines another antonym for “hero” that challenges the moniker of the coward: the villain.
In a hostile conflict, the hero battles the villain. But in Letters from Iwo Jima, the villain is atypical. Superficially, the American forces take on the role, methodically killing Saigo’s compatriots. But the Americans are not the true villains; their goal is to quell an enemy responsible for an unprovoked attack on their homeland. Rather, the villains are the leaders in mainland Japan.
The unfortunate Japanese soldiers are mere pawns in a corrupt government’s war. They are ordered to fight to the death or risk being executed as an unpatriotic coward. But those who question the Japanese leaders’ intentions are not cowards. If anything, they are victims. Or perhaps they are heroes for rejecting the villains’ wishes.
Saigo does not want to die, and the audience is compelled to root for him because he chooses life over the empty promise of honor. Saigo is the hero, and his enemy is the Japanese leaders using societal shaming to exploit the soldiers.
Scene from Letters from Iwo Jima
Sadly, being accused as a coward for refusing to fight, whether the war is justified or not, is a common thread throughout history. And with the withdrawal of American forces from Afghanistan, pundits from every corner are quick to call their adversaries cowards.
Nebraska Republican Senator Ben Sasse called the American exit a “national disgrace,” which was “the direct result of President Biden’s cowardice.” Others blame the Afghans as cowards for not fighting the Taliban. But there are probably better forms of diplomacy than hurling insults.
It’s ironic that in today’s political rhetoric, terrorists who kill without fear are considered cowards. But it seems implausible that those willing to die for their cause will refrain because the enemy may insult them after their death. However, the stigma of cowardice may deter reasonable people from opposing senseless acts of violence. And corrupt governments shamelessly push patriotism, “the last refuge of the scoundrel,” as the antidote for cowardice.
Letters from Iwo Jima is a great film. Clint Eastwood presents an exceptional screenplay with beautiful cinematography and compelling acting. Furthermore, the nuanced portrayal of numerous characters shows how different individuals cope with the horrors of war.
Clint Eastwood made the companion piece Flags of Our Father (2006), depicting the battle from the American perspective. But the Japanese viewpoint is more powerful. In the thought-provoking narrative, the line between the hero and coward is blurred. But it’s clear that every soul on the battlefield is just a victim of human cruelty.
Andrew’s Grade: A
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