Tuesday, July 01, 2014

Japan and Shanghai, a Haven for European Jews!

Japan Sought Alliance With the Jews by David Richards
June 29, 2014

In 1905, Jewish finance enabled Japan to vanquish Russia in the Russo-Japanese War.
In the 1930's, Japan tried to repeat this alliance with World Jewry. But this time, they were the nail, not the hammer in the Illuminati game-plan.Japan Set Up Jewish Colony in Manchuria -Revised From May 21, 2011
Under the Fugu Plan, Japan wanted to create a large Jewish colony in Manchuria and China between 1934-45. The settlements were envisaged as an 'Israel in Asia,' controlled by Japan.
The Japanese hoped the colonies would gain the approval of international Jewish financiers such as the Rothschilds, who would pump money into their empire
However, the Japanese were also apprehensive about cooperating with Jews. They were well versed in the 'Protocols of the Elders of Zion' and were convinced of their authenticity. They viewed Jews as a subversive race who used their financial and mercantile genius to conquer nations by stealth
This fear is reflected in the name of the plan. The fugu is a highly poisonous blowfish. After the toxin-containing organs are removed, it is eaten and considered and exquisite delicacy. If it is not prepared carefully, however, its poison will kill you
The first global depression had left Imperial Japan in a desperate state. Despite being the most advanced nation in Asia, Japan lacked basic raw materials such as coal, iron, petroleum, alloy minerals, water, and even food. Unable to regenerate their broken economy internally, the Japanese sought to expand
In 1931, they invaded North China and Manchuria. The region, which had been a battleground of Chinese, Japanese and Russian interests for many decades, offered precious raw materials and markets.

The Japanese set up a puppet state called 'Manchukuo' with it's own flag and national anthem, and placed the last Emperor of the Qing dynasty, Pu-Yi, on the throne.
The largely rural population of 40 million was turned into slave labour to mine Manchukuo's resources to feed Japan's rapid militarization. Their farms handed over to Japanese immigrants. The native population was not large enough to meet Japanese needs; instead the venture whetted Japan's appetite for the Eastern coastal regions of China.

The Japanese could not afford to develop the region especially as US-Japan relations were

deteriorating. The history of the most advanced city in Manchukuo, Harbin, provided a solution.
Harbin owed its rapid rise to housing a small community of pioneering Russian Jews. In 1898, the Russians built the trans-Siberian railway through Manchuria, and developed the small fishing village of Harbin into a regional center. Tsar Nicholas II encouraged Jews to move there.
While their numbers peaked at only 25,000, the Jews started banks, oil and gas works, pharmacies, textile and clothes shops, a brewery, music shops, opticians etc, and exported goods to Europe such as North Chinese soya beans. Harbin was quickly transformed from a fishing town into a mercantile hub of East Asia with a renowned Jewish-run international trade-fair
Under the local leadership of Dr. Abraham Kaufman, various Zionist youth organizations and militias were organized, and they paraded in full uniform and with flags through the streets of Harbin
The Japanese invasion was a disaster for the prosperous little community. The Japanese began expropriating private property and allowed Russian groups to spearhead anti-Soviet and anti-Jewish campaigns. In the ensuing chaos 70% of Harbin Jews fled
The Jewish exodus ripped out Harbin's mercantile heart. Manchukuo's economy began to sink even deeper and the Japanese realized that they could not develop North China without the Jews. Having learned their lesson, they drew up plans to attract and utilize Jewish capital and ingenuity.
SECOND THOUGHTS In 1938, a high level meeting was held in Tokyo to discuss the Fugu Plan. It has become known as the 'Five Minister's Conference'. The debate was split between those desiring to develop good relations with world Jewry vs. those who insisted the Jews were too treacherous to work with.
General Nobutaka Shioden, left, led the 'no' side. He argued that for years many countries had tried to keep a large Jewish population under control - Spain, Portugal, Russia, and Germany etc. Always, in the end, the only forms of successful "control" were slaughter or exile.
Wasn't it bad enough that Japan's mainland neighbour China was so thoroughly controlled by Jewish Communists? It might be suicidal to put a Jewish state in the interior of Manchukuo.
In 1934, the Soviets unveiled the Jewish Autonomous Region, popularly known as 'Birobidzhan', situated on the Siberian-Manchukuo border. He asked the meeting; should Japan really contemplate setting up a Jewish community so near an area that was known to be a staging ground for the Russian-Jewish takeover of Manchukuo and China?
The 'pro' side suggested that the settlement could be in the Shanghai area instead- or another Eastern coastal region.
Shioden disagreed, believing no matter where the Jews settled they would conspire to ruin Japan. Referring to the Protocols he reminded everyone, 'we have seen what they themselves say are their ambitions, their goals: nothing less than the disruption and takeover of the world.'

Finance Minister Seihin Ikeda, left, made the pro case. 'Of course Japan can control the Jews! No matter where we settle them, we will maintain control over all their dealings with the outside world. Their self-government will only be on a local level... Hundreds of years ago, China permitted thousands of Jews to settle in the Kaifeng region. Did they take over! By no means! In time, China, having benefitted from their cleverness and industry, calmly swallowed them up until today there is no such thing as a 'Chinese Jew'.'
"And dangerous or not, we need the Jews. The settlers themselves will be an asset to Manchukuo and to Japan. As Ayukawan-San has said, 'No Japanese has ever made a good pair of shoes. But the Jewish shoemakers...'
Even more important, their settlements will encourage other Jews to release the capital we can't get any other way. By simply welcoming these beleaguered Europeans, we will gain affection of the American Jews who control the press, the broadcast media, the film industry... and possibly president Roosevelt himself. We cannot afford to alienate the Jews. If Japan imitates Germany's severe control of the Jews, discrimination will develop in connection with our foreign trade. On the other hand, if Japan goes in the opposite direction and befriends the Jews, entirely new economic possibilities will open up before us."
In the end the meeting reached a compromise, 'our diplomatic ties with Germany and Italy require that we avoid publicly embracing the Jewish people... but we should not reject them as our allies do... This is particularly true in light of our need for foreign capital and our desire not to alienate America.'
It was decided that Shanghai would house the biggest settlement. Plans were drawn up considering a variety of population levels, from eighteen thousand up to nine hundred thousand and all the necessities of daily life for up to a million refugees: elementary and high schools, synagogues, hospitals, sewer lines, industrial areas, park lands.

The Japanese never intended to pay all the costs themselves; rather, they hoped Jewish world bankers and industrialists would follow their lead and fund the project.
The plans were derailed though when the Jewish communities in Shanghai protested that they couldn't accommodate anymore than a few thousand. They asked the Japanese to persuade their allies Germany and Italy to prevent Jews embarking from Europe to Shanghai.
The Japanese approached Rabbi Stephen Wise, left, who they believed was the 'power behind the throne' in the US, noting his close relationships with Woodrow Wilson and Franklin Roosevelt. Naval Captain Inuzuka wrote, 'He goes anywhere the President goes as the shadow follows form.'
In 1939,
Rabbi Wise dismissed any ideas of housing Jewish refugees in China. He knew exactly where uprooted European Jews were destined: either death camps or Palestine.
Ultimately 'The Fugu Plan' was unsuccessful, Manchukuo's Jewish population only rose from 5,000 to 17,000, and overall only 24,000 European Jews arrived at Chinese settlements before the end of WW2.
The story is worth remembering because it contains the following lessons:
- The Japanese need for a 'Fugu Plan' shows that despite qualms about cooperating with the Jews, in a financial and mercantile system, Jewish people, being master merchants and financiers, were considered indispensable.

- By seeking approval from Rabbi Wise and financiers like the Rothschilds, the Japanese knew that any empire would be doomed without backing of organized world Jewry.
-- This was borne out by Japan's fate in World War Two, especially as the target of two atomic bombs. We tend to forget that the Second World War removed not one but two potential obstacles to the NWO - Germany and Japan. (And enough non-Zionist Jews were murdered to ensure the establishment of the NWO capital, Israel.)
It is also worth reading through the minutes 'Five Minister's Conference'. In their confused and tortured debate, we can see the Japanese were outsiders looking in. But they raised a question that has yet to be answered; what is the exact nature and scale of Jewish power?
David Richards, 24, teaches English in Mongolia.
Shanghai's Forgotten Jewish Past
In the 1930s and 40s, the Chinese city hosted a large, vibrant community of refugees fleeing persecution in Europe. Can survivors, rabbis, and historians preserve this heritage?
Nov 21, 2013

The Shanghai Jewish Refugees museum commemorates the city's large, vibrant community before and during the Second World War. (Wikimedia Commons)
SHANGHAI—When Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu visited
Shanghai in May 2013 and hailed the city’s role as a "haven" for Jewish people fleeing Nazi-occupied Europe in the 1930s and 40s, his comments highlighted a part of the city’s history that many contemporary residents don’t know. Today, few would guess that this quintessentially Chinese city once played host to a bustling community of over 20,000 Jews.
While a Jewish community has existed in Shanghai since the late 19th century, the first large wave of immigrants came in the 1920s and 30s, as thousands of Russian Jews fled the Bolshevik Revolution for the more business-friendly foreign concessions in Shanghai. A decade later, the mainly Russian and Sephardic Jewish community was supplemented by tens of thousands of Ashkenazi Jews from Europe, who fled during the early stages of Nazi rule in Germany.
Before Nazi policy turned actively genocidal in the late 1930s, exile was seen as a perfectly acceptable solution to the "Jewish problem" and German and Austrian Jews, stripped of their citizenship rights, property, and employment, were encouraged to emigrate to any country that would have them. Unfortunately, there were few options for these would-be emigrants: At the √Čvian Conference in 1938, the great powers collectively decided to shut their borders to all but a small selection of Jewish refugees.
Aside from the Dominican Republic, Shanghai was the only place that remained open to these refugees, and 20,000 or so European Jews found their way to the city in the late 1930s. Shanghai at the time was a political anomaly: Control was split between the beleaguered Republic of China, an increasingly aggressive Imperial Japan, and France, Britain, and the United States, countries that operated self-governing "concessions" exempt from Chinese law or influence.
When the Second World War broke out in 1939, more European Jews had taken refuge in Shanghai than in any other city in the world. One was Gary Matzdorff, who left Germany with his family in 1937.
"My father heard from a friend that it was possible to go to Shanghai without a visa, but only Shanghai, because for the rest of China we needed a visa," Matzdorff, now 92, told me during an interview at the Shanghai Jewish Refugee Museum. "We took a train to Genoa, Italy and boarded the ship—the SS Victoria—and one month later we arrived [in Shanghai]."
"It was a shock, culturally, language wise, but being young you adapt very quickly, and I made it my personal business to integrate into Chinese culture, to learn the language, because I expected to spend the rest of my life in Shanghai."
Matzdorff’s remembers a bustling, cosmopolitan city, not unlike London or New York. After days working at an import/export company, he was fond of exploring the city's night life.
"One of my favorite places was a dance hall at the Wing On department store. Up on the top floor there was a dance floor, big band."
Shanghai was not without its problems. By 1937, Japan’s invasion of China was underway, and the Battle of Shanghai in November ended any remaining control the Republic of China had over the city. But despite being occupied, Shanghai’s Europeans did not bear the brunt of Japanese aggression: In the then-capital of Nanjing, Japanese troops murdered over 200,000 civilians that year, an incident now remembered as the Rape of Nanjing.
In December 1941 the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor brought the U.S. into World War Two, and soon thereafter Japanese troops invaded Shanghai’s international settlements and took full control of the city. Like many residents of Shanghai at the time—including author J.G. Ballard, whose book Empire of the Sun is based on his experiences as an internee of the Japanese—Matzdorff’s first warning that the Japanese were taking control of the city came when he heard the explosions that sank the HMS Peterel, a British gunboat anchored in the Huangpu River and the only foreign vessel which refused to surrender to the Japanese.
"I remember it like it was yesterday," he says, "because we heard the bombing of the ship—we didn’t know what it was, but we heard the explosions."
With Japanese control came more restrictions on Shanghai’s Jews, as well as an end to the flow of money from American organizations that had served as the lifeblood of many of the more destitute refugees. By 1943, the majority of Jews in the city were forced into the Restricted Sector for Stateless Refugees in Hongkou district, an area which would become known as the "Shanghai Ghetto."
But had Japan’s German allies had their way, matters would have been even worse. Prior to the formal establishment of the ghetto, SS Colonel Josef Meisinger was dispatched to Shanghai, reportedly with a canister of Zyklon B gas in tow, to advise the Japanese on exterminating the city’s Jewish population. Though Meisinger was unsuccessful in implementing this policy, pressure from the Germans did inspire the creation of the ghetto.
The Japanese occupation provided Shanghai’s Chinese and Jewish population
with a common cause—and a common enemy. Author Daniel Kalla has described the Shanghai ghetto as a "testament to human perseverance and dignity," a sentiment Matzdorff echoes: "We lived side by side, we both had the same problem: the Japanese. We had the same fate."
The ghetto, along with the rest of Shanghai, was officially liberated on September 3, 1945 in a combined American-Chinese effort.
"The word spread like wildfire: the war is over, the war is over!" Matzdorff recalls. "I got in touch with some of my friends—we had made an arrangement, when the war is over we’re going to get revenge on the Japanese. So we went to the police station: empty. They disappeared into thin air overnight. We were ready to punch them out! But we didn’t have that opportunity."
Matzdorff had to settle for a more symbolic victory. "I climbed up on the telephone pole and tore down one of the signs that said ‘Stateless Refugees Are Not Allowed to Pass.’ I still have it, it’s my souvenir, my payoff."
Japan’s defeat did not put an end to unrest in China, however, and the country soon fell into civil war. As the situation in Europe improved and conditions in China worsened, many Jews began to leave the city.
"[Shanghai] was not a paradise for us, so everyone tried to improve their situation, to go somewhere new," Matzdorff says. "Word got out that under President Truman you could apply for a cooperative affidavit of support, that the Jewish organizations would issue a combined guarantee for anyone who wanted to come to America."
After the war, China’s Jewish population dwindled sharply. "From 1949 to 1956, the Jewish community in Shanghai effectively ceased to exist," Rabbi Shalom Greenberg, who administers to the approximately 2,000 Jews living in the city today, told me in an interview. Matzdorff, along with his parents and his new wife, moved to the U.S., eventually settling in California, where he lives today. But he still likes to visit Shanghai, saying that the city "draws me back."
"Every time I come here, huge changes. Rapid changes. Old neighborhoods being torn down. My desire [in returning] is always to see the old neighborhood, because that draws you back to a place."
This is becoming less and less possible as China’s rapid growth outpaces the country’s nascent historical preservation movement. Shanghai’s city planners face enormous pressure—and incentives—to develop the modern city.
"We'll do our best to remove and save some of the most valuable artifacts, if feasible," Chen Jian of the Hongkou district government told NPR in 2007. "But that's not to say that we won't demolish these buildings."
For those interested in Shanghai’s Jewish past, this is a worrying trend. "[The historic community] is very detached, but every Jewish person who comes to Shanghai, the first thing they learn is about this history. This is something that is unknown to most of us, I knew very little about it when I came here," Rabbi Greenberg says, "it is a part of history that is almost untold."
But while many landmarks and historical buildings did not survive the madness of the Cultural Revolution and China’s subsequent economic boom and continuing obsession with growth, what does remain is a deep affection felt by the Jewish community for Shanghai.
"One thing we encourage our people to do," Rabbi Greenberg says, "is find a way to give back to the aging Chinese people—especially those who live in [the former ghetto]—as a recognition and appreciation for their friendship during WWII, something which was uncommon in the world at the time."
It is this desire to give back to a community which sheltered so many during the war that tempers any frustration Rabbi Greenberg might feel over the lost history, and makes him critical of those who seek to save history at the cost of the area’s modern residents.
"These people, they were nice to you, why are you being mean to them? It should be the opposite, it should be ‘Here, new buildings! We’ll help you get new buildings!’" Rabbi Greenberg says, "of course if people want to maintain some buildings as a historic landmark so there is something to show people when they come here, it’s nice. But they don’t have to."
Indeed, Rabbi Greenberg’s efforts in creating a modern Jewish community that embraces but does not selfishly guard its links to the past may be more effective in honoring a city which harbored Jews while the rest of the world was turning them away.
Editor's note: Gary Matzdorff passed away on November 8, aged 92.
Kenneth Tan and Elliot DeBruyn contributed to this article.
Also See:
The Holocaust: Japan & the Jews