The Shifting Meanings of the Doolittle Raid
by Peter Harmsen, Ph.D.
Peter Harmsen Ph.D. is an author and historian. He has written at length about China, Japan, and World War II. His trilogy of books on the War in the Pacific have regularly topped online “best seller” lists. He lives and works in Denmark. For many years he was a journalist with Agence-France Presse, based in Taipei.
Some stories from the past are so compelling that we want to keep them permanently in their original form. We are reluctant to change or amend them in any way, even when new facts emerge that should convince us we ought to do so, because the added information essentially turns them into different narratives, with new meanings. The 1942 Doolittle Raid is an example of this.
The story of the raid that was celebrated in the immediate aftermath of the operation and was told and retold for several decades after the war was one of valor and vengeance. It was a story in which, less than five months after Pearl Harbor, the Americans rose to the occasion and struck back at the heart of the Japanese empire.
More than anything, they did it to show that it could be done. Even at the time, it was clear that the raid had little military significance. In that sense, it was an example of psychological warfare, serving as a warning to the Japanese that American aircraft could appear over their biggest cities, and there was little they could do about it.
The raid also constituted a message to the Americans themselves. It was an expression of national character, embodying the tireless pursuit of an ever-elusive frontier that had motivated the pioneer generations and was still in living memory for some. For the members of that nation, it marked an escape from an uncomfortable defensive role and a move back to the offensive, where they felt much more at ease.
This also made the Doolittle Raid an iconic tale of American derring-do, combined with the technical acumen that could turn physical courage into an invincible force. It showed determination to embark on an endeavor, not because it was easy but because it was hard – not unlike the spirit that two decades later would set the American people on a path to manned Moon flight – and therefore it arguably served as one of the founding myths of postwar era.
However, it was always a truncated story. It was missing its crucial second half. Some might even say it was leaving out the most important part. It omitted the mass suffering of the Chinese, mostly civilians, who were made to pay for the Doolittle Raid.
If the vicious Japanese military response, which cost the lives of thousands, was mentioned at all in early postwar accounts of the raid, it was as an afterthought. It was not so much out of reluctance to acknowledge the tragedy that the Doolittle Raid caused, and more a reflection of general ignorance about China’s role in World War Two, exacerbated by language barriers and Cold War divisions.
Now, at the last minute before there are no eyewitnesses left to bear testimony to the gruesome aftermath of the raid in China, important work is being done. The documentary Unsettled History finally gives the countless victims a voice and puts faces on the survivors.
An expanded understanding of the Doolittle Raid, taking into consideration the immense sacrifice borne by the Chinese, could serve as one of the founding legends of the 21st century, just as the narrower version focusing on American heroism was a tale for the US-led late 20th century.
Whether this will be the case remains to be seen. It very much depends on the overall atmosphere of Sino-American ties, and whether the Cold War barriers which kept their respective World War Two historiographies separate for generations will come back up.
If the two nations eventually reach a stable modus vivendi, and perhaps even rediscover some of the spirit of cooperation that until fairly recently was a pillar of the bilateral relationship, the story of the Doolittle Raid, from the planning phase through to the sinister aftermath, could serve as a reminder to both sides that in their long common history there is at least as much that ties them together as pulls them apart.