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‘Threads of Empire' and ‘Carpet Diem': The Weave of History

‘Threads of Empire' and ‘Carpet Diem': The Weave of History

A famous photograph captures Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin during the 1945 Yalta Conference. They look cold in their greatcoats, and Stalin alone wears military dress. A handful of luxurious carpets warm the ground and provide an air of Black Sea luxury suitable to the occasion. The largest rug, figured with floral motifs, projects opulence and taste. For the textile scholar Dorothy Armstrong, its designs reveal something deeper. The rug, she observes, lacks the patterns of traditional carpet making from Tatar artisans who would have been native to the Crimean Peninsula where the resort was located. 'In the summer of 1944,' she reminds us, 'Stalin had purged the Crimea of its Tatars.' The rug used was an import from elsewhere.
'The world beneath our feet tends to be less observed than the world at eye level,' writes Ms. Armstrong. 'Once we begin to look, we can see carpets in every environment which celebrates power.' In 'Threads of Empire,' she takes readers on a beguiling tour of the past, one in which carpets become talismans of culture, aspiration, deceit and imperialism. The book displays deep learning, endless curiosity—and a conviction that seemingly mute objects can be anything but. 'Even when they are appropriated as props by the great and powerful,' she writes, 'carpets find ways to tell their individual stories, which sometimes subvert and always complicate received histories.'
Take the carpet known as the Ardabil, widely regarded as the finest example of the Persian carpet-making tradition and today housed in London's Victoria and Albert Museum. At 33 feet by 17 feet it is a gigantic specimen of hand-woven artistry. The nearly 500-year-old Ardabil, Ms. Armstrong writes, embodies 'a refined Persia of intellectual clarity and unmatched visual inventivenes.' Yet the carpet's uniqueness and outstanding state of preservation both waver upon inspection. The Ardabil was originally one of a matched pair, but the other carpet had at some point been mutilated to restore the ruined edges of its sibling. (The damaged version, still a treasure, found its way to the collection of the oil magnate J. Paul Getty.)
A theme running through 'Threads of Empire' is the difficulty of dating rugs and ascertaining where they were made. The Ardabil bears an inscription and year on one edge, as well as a notation of the court that the weaver served. 'To have this amount of information woven into a carpet is vanishingly rare,' Ms. Armstrong writes. Carbon dating is expensive and cannot determine geography; chemical analysis of dyes has its own limitations. Instead, carpet experts usually place textiles through visual inspection, examining a rug's patterns and motifs, as well as its knotting and weave.
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'We were never friends': A massacre on the eve of WW2 still haunts China-Japan relations
'We were never friends': A massacre on the eve of WW2 still haunts China-Japan relations

Yahoo

time7 hours ago

  • Yahoo

'We were never friends': A massacre on the eve of WW2 still haunts China-Japan relations

Japanese vlogger Hayato Kato's 1.9 million followers are used to his funny clips about exploring China, where he has been living for several years. But on 26 July he surprised them with a sombre one. "I just watched a movie about the Nanjing Massacre," he said, referring to the Japanese army's six-week rampage through Nanjing in late 1937, which, by some estimates, killed more than 300,000 civilians and Chinese soldiers. Around 20,000 women were reportedly raped. Dead To Rights, or Nanjing Photo Studio, is a star-studded tale about a group of civilians who hide from Japanese troops in a photo studio. Already a box office hit, it is the first of a wave of Chinese movies about the horrors of Japanese occupation that are being released to mark the 80th anniversary of the end of World War Two. But a sense of unfinished history - often amplified by Beijing – persists, fuelling both memory and anger. Speaking in Chinese on Douyin, China's domestic version of TikTok, Kato recounted scenes from the film: "People were lined up along the river and then the shootings began… A baby, the same age as my daughter, was crying in her mother's arms. A Japanese soldier rushed forward, grabbed her, and smashed her into the ground." He said he had seen many people on the Japanese internet denying the Nanjing Massacre had happened, including public figures, even politicians. "If we deny it, this will happen again," he continued, urging Japanese people to watch the movies and "Iearn about the dark side of their history". The video quickly became one of his most popular, with more than 670,000 likes in just two weeks. But the comments are less positive. The top-liked one quotes what has already become an iconic line from the movie, uttered by a Chinese civilian to a Japanese soldier: "We are not friends. We never were." For China, Japan's brutal military campaign and occupation are among the darkest chapters of its past – and the massacre in Nanjing, then the capital, an even deeper wound. What has made it fester is the belief that Japan has never fully owned up to its atrocities in places it occupied – not just China, but also Korea, what was then Malaya, Philippines, Indonesia. One of the most painful points of contention involves "comfort women" - the approximately 200,000 women who were raped and forced to work in Japanese military brothels. To this day, the survivors are still fighting for an apology and compensation. In his video, Kato seems to acknowledge that it's not a subject of conversation in Japan: "Unfortunately these anti-Japanese war movies are not shown in Japan publicly, and Japanese people are not interested to watch them." When the Japanese Emperor announced on 15 August that he would surrender, his country had already paid a terrible cost – more than 100,000 had been killed in bombing raids on Tokyo, before two atom bombs devastated Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Japan's defeat, however, was welcomed in large parts of Asia, where the Imperial Japanese Army had claimed millions of lives. For them, 15 August carries both freedom and lingering trauma – in Korea the day is called 'gwangbokjeol', which translates to the return of light. "While the military war has ended, the history war continues," says Professor Gi-Wook Shin, of Stanford University, explaining the two sides remember those years differently, and those differences add to the tension. While the Chinese see Japanese aggression as a defining, and devastating, moment in their past, Japanese history focuses on its own victimhood - the destruction caused by the atom bombs and post-war recovery. "People I know in Japan don't really talk about it," says a Chinese man who has been living in Japan for 15 years, and wished to remain anonymous. "They see it as something in the past, and the country doesn't really commemorate it - because they also view themselves as victims." He calls himself a patriot, but he says that hasn't made things difficult for him personally because their reluctance to talk about it means they "avoid such sensitive topics". "Some believe the Japanese army went to help China build a new order - with conflicts occurring in that process. Of course, there are also those who acknowledge that it was, in fact, an invasion." China fought Japan for eight years, from Manchuria in the north-east to Chongqing in the south-west. Estimates of the Chinese who died range from 10 to 20 million. The Japanese government says around 480,000 of its soldiers died in that time. Those years have been well-documented in award-winning literature and films – they were also the subject of Nobel laureate Mo Yan's work. That period is now being revisited under a regime that holds patriotism as central to its ambitions: "national rejuvenation" is how Xi Jinping describes his Chinese dream. While the Party heavily censors its own history, from the Tiananmen Square massacre to more recent crackdowns, it encourages remembering a more distant past – with an outside enemy. Xi even revised the date the war with Japan started – the Chinese government now counts the first incursions into Manchuria in 1931, which makes it a 14-year war, rather than eight years of full-fledged conflict. Under him, Beijing has also been commemorating the end of World War Two on a bigger scale. On 3 September, the day Japan formally surrendered, there will be a major military parade in Tiananmen Square. Also in September, a highly-anticipated new release will focus on the notorious Unit 731, a branch of the Japanese Army that conducted lethal human experiments in occupied Manchuria. The date of release – 18 September – is the day Japan attempted its first invasion of Manchuria. That is apart from Dongji Rescue, a film inspired by the real-life efforts of Chinese fishermen who saved hundreds of British prisoners of war during Japanese raids; and Mountains and Rivers Bearing Witness, a documentary from a state-owned studio about Chinese resistance. And they seem to be striking a nerve. "That one generation fought a war on behalf of three, and endured suffering for three. Salute to the martyrs," a popular RedNote post on Nanjing Photo Studio reads. "We are not friends...", the now-famous line from the movie, "is not just a line" between the two main characters, says a popular review that has been liked by more than 10,000 users on Weibo. It is "also from millions of ordinary Chinese people to Japan. They've never issued a sincere apology, they are still worshipping [the war criminals], they are rewriting history – no-one will treat them as friends", the comment says, referring to some Japanese right-wing figures' dismissive remarks. Tokyo has issued apologies, but many Chinese people believe they are not profuse enough. "Japan keeps sending a conflicting message," Prof Shin says, referring to instances where leaders have contradicted each other in their statements on Japan's wartime history. For years, in Chinese history classes, students have been shown a photo of former West German Chancellor Willy Brandt kneeling before a memorial to the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising in 1970. The Chinese expect a similar gesture from Japan. This wasn't always the case, though. When Japan surrendered in 1945, the turbulence in China did not end. For the next three years, the Nationalist Kuomintang – then the ruling government and the main source of Chinese resistance against Japan – fought a civil war against Mao Zedong's Communist Party forces. That war ended with Mao's victory and the Kuomintang's retreat to Taiwan. Mao, whose priority was to build a communist nation, avoided focusing on Japanese war crimes. Commemorations celebrated the Party's victory and criticised the Kuomintang. He also needed Japan's support on the international stage. Tokyo, in fact, was one of the first major powers to recognise his regime. It wasn't until the 1980s - after Mao's death - that the Japanese occupation returned to haunt the relationship between Beijing and Tokyo. By then, Japan was a wealthy Western ally with a booming economy. Revisions to Japanese textbooks began to spark controversy, with China and South Korea accusing Japan of whitewashing its wartime atrocities. China had just begun to open up, and South Korea was in transition from military rule to democracy. As Chinese leaders moved away from Mao – and his destructive legacy – the trauma of what happened under Japanese attack became a unifying narrative for the Communist Party, says Yinan He, associate professor of international relations at Lehigh University in the US. "After the Cultural Revolution, Chinese people for the large part were disillusioned by communism," she told the BBC. "Since communism lost its appeal, you need nationalism. And Japan is [an] easy target because that's the most recent external [aggressor]." She describes a "choreographed representation of the past", where commemorations of 1945 often downplay the contributions of the US and the Kuomintang, and are accompanied by growing scrutiny of Japan's official stance on its wartime actions. What hasn't helped is the denial of war crimes - prominent right-wing Japanese don't accept the Nanjing massacre ever happened, or that Japanese soldiers forced so many women into sexual slavery - and recent visits by officials to the Yasukuni Shrine, which honours Japan's war dead, including convicted war criminals. This hostility between China and Japan has spilled over into everyday lives as nationalism online peaks - Chinese and Japanese people have been attacked in each other's countries. A Japanese schoolboy was killed in Shenzhen last year. China's economic rise and assertiveness in the region and beyond has changed the dynamic between the two countries again. It has surpassed Japan as a global power. The best time to seek closure – the 1970s, when the countries were closer - has passed, Prof He says. "They simply said, let's forget about that, let's set that aside. They've never dealt with the history – and now the problem has come back to haunt them again." Japan's 75-year pacifism hangs in balance as new threats loom China and Japan: Seven decades of bitterness Disfigured, shamed and forgotten: BBC visits the Korean survivors of the Hiroshima bomb Japan was the future but it's stuck in the past

Oasis faces backlash in South Korea over controversial sunrise video
Oasis faces backlash in South Korea over controversial sunrise video

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time20 hours ago

  • Yahoo

Oasis faces backlash in South Korea over controversial sunrise video

Oasis faced a backlash online this week after sharing a video featuring a rising sun, which fans in Asia said closely resembled a symbol of Japanese imperialism and World War II militarism. On 8 August, the band shared a video on their social media accounts for their song 'Morning Glory,' which contains a stylised sun motif with radiating rays recurring over various scenes, from graphic landscapes to urban backdrops. South Korean fans were quick to point out the resemblance to the Rising Sun Flag and were upset at the video's release just days ahead of South Korea's Liberation Day on 15 August, a commemoration of the country's independence from Japanese colonial rule. Oasis are scheduled to perform in South Korea and Japan later this year. They have a show set for 21 October at the Goyang Sports Complex in Gyeonggi province, followed by two shows on 25 and 26 October at the Tokyo Dome. The Rising Sun Flag, known as the 'Kyokujitsu-ki' in Japanese, features a red sun with 16 rays extending outward and was used by the Imperial Japanese Army and Navy from the late 19th century until Japan's defeat in 1945. Though still used today by Japan's Self-Defense Forces, the flag is widely regarded in countries such as South Korea, North Korea, and China as a symbol of militarism, colonial aggression and wartime atrocities committed during Japan's imperial expansion. Critics of its use argue that it evokes painful historical memories similar to the symbolism of the Nazi swastika in Europe. 'If you plan to keep disrespecting Korea and never set foot here again, then stick with this one. Otherwise, fire them and get someone else,' commented one person on X, formerly Twitter. 'Brilliant. Nothing says rock n roll like slapping a symbol of imperial violence into a video. It's 2025, lads—thought we'd left this colonial throwback in the history books, not on track visuals. You can't plead ignorance forever. At some point, it's not a mistake. It's a choice,' wrote another. 'Don't you want to sincerely apologize for the Rising Sun Flag and delete the video? Many Korean fans, including myself, are very disappointed,' another fan wrote on the group's Instagram. At the time of writing, the video was still up on the band's social media accounts. The Independent has reached out to representatives of Oasis for comment. This is not the first time Oasis has encountered controversy in the region. In July, frontman Liam Gallagher came under fire for posting a racially offensive term on social media, one widely recognised as derogatory toward East Asians. After public criticism, Gallagher eventually deleted the post and wrote: 'I'm sorry if I upset anyone. I love all people and do not discriminate. Peace and love.'

Decades ago, a WWII veteran signed a contract to conduct a band on his 100th birthday. Last month, he fulfilled it.
Decades ago, a WWII veteran signed a contract to conduct a band on his 100th birthday. Last month, he fulfilled it.

CBS News

timea day ago

  • CBS News

Decades ago, a WWII veteran signed a contract to conduct a band on his 100th birthday. Last month, he fulfilled it.

Wheaton, Illinois — It's been more than 80 years since retired U.S. Air Force Col. Arnald Gabriel of Arlington, Virginia, took an enlistment oath to defend his country during World War II, where he saw combat. The 100-year-old Gabriel, who also served in the U.S. Army, was once the conductor of the U.S. Air Force Band, and under his leadership, it became internationally renowned. In 1992, one of his biggest fans, Bruce Moss — conductor of the Wheaton Municipal Band in Wheaton, Illinois — invited Gabriel to be a guest conductor. "He did not know me," Moss told CBS News. "He did not know the band. But he fell in love with the band over time, and kept coming back." On a subsequent visit in 2000 or 2001, Moss said he told Gabriel, who was in his 70s at the time, "You look so good, I bet you'll still be conducting at 100." According to Moss, Gabriel replied, "I fully intend to." When Moss heard that, he recognized an opportunity too good to pass up. He wrote up a contract that stated Gabriel would commit to conducting the Wheaton Municipal Band on his 100th birthday. "So I went home, wrote a contract and mailed it to him," Moss said. "... He [Gabriel] said, 'Of course, if I don't make it to 100, this contract's null and void, but don't count on it.'" Gabriel's health is declining and he cannot travel anymore. But he was determined to honor his commitment. "Your word is your bond," Gabriel told CBS News. "If you sign a contract, you have to fulfill it — no question about it." And that's why, last month, remotely, he struck up the Wheaton Municipal Band one last time. Even at age 100, he kept perfect time. But more importantly, he had kept his word. "It felt like I was there on stage with them," Gabriel said. "That's the way it felt."

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