Cold Comfort for Comfort Women

When I awoke yesterday to the news that the Japanese and South Korean governments had finally reached a consensus on the sexual slavery of Korean women during the Second World War, I felt a sense of relief. This relief, however, was replaced with disgust when I started reading the articles about this historic moment. The articles all framed this issue as if Japan and South Korea had signed a trade deal, focusing on the two countries’ relationships with the U.S., the one billion yen fund being set up for the remaining so-called comfort women (of whom only 46 are still alive), and referring to it as a “deal.”

In other words, these women were commodified by their colonial oppressors then and are once again being discussed as commodities in overtly capitalist terms. Consequently, their identity and suffering continue to be erased. Indeed, the issue has been referred to as though it is something to lay to rest, so political/economic partnerships can forge ahead. As Japanese Foreign Minister Fumio Kishida said, “I expect that the two countries will accept the outcome of the final negotiations meaningfully… I hope that the bilateral relations would start anew through implementing the agreement conscientiously.”

Deal, negotiations, agreement… These are not the terms one tends to use to discuss human beings’ lives. They scream CAPITALISM and NEOLIBERALISM. After all, within these ideologies, none of our lives actually matter, but some lives matter even less (Black lives, the lives of the members of lower classes and castes, the lives of women of colour, etc.).

As survivor Lee Yong-soo stated, “The agreement does not reflect the views of former comfort women… I will ignore it completely.” If this was really about the 46 women who are still living with these horrific physical and emotional scars, and the hundreds of thousands who have already died, Lee’s statement would have some impact.

The practice of discussing women’s oppression while simultaneously silencing their voices is quite common. Women’s importance in history and contemporary societies is at best given lip service and at worst overlooked entirely. Rafia Zakaria puts this succinctly in reference to the invasion of Afghanistan in 2001: “The Afghan woman’s blue burka became the symbol of sexual repression, the basis for the most righteous feminist indignation and of bombings and night raids. That the same women may not want their country bombed and occupied, or might wish to fight their own battles, were the sort of ifs and buts that were not entertained” (emphasis mine). Indeed, Zakaria’s piece, “Sex and the Muslim Feminist,” is an important read for those interested in considering how sex, sexuality, and women’s bodies are co-opted by capitalism.

Central to the discussion of the girls and women who were kidnapped, imprisoned, and raped endlessly—let us drop the euphemisms and call this what it was—is also the theme of honour and dignity. But whose honour is actually at issue here? Surely, if it was that of the girls and women who suffered, this atrocity would have been resolved decades ago or not happened in the first place. But women’s honour is always tied to that of the society; this is why rape is used as one of the weapons of war. It is an important detail that the statue in front of the Japanese Embassy in Seoul representing the victims is supposed to be removed. 

Once that is gone and the remaining survivors have died, the capitalist system can thrive unfettered by tedious reminders of old quarrels, and a new generation can fulfill its destiny of becoming obedient consumers and workers.

Consensus about subjugation aside, the message remains the same: Women—especially women belonging to marginalized groups—you don’t matter.