Yasukuni-Jinja (Yasukuni Shrine)

Lonely Planet review

If you've kept up on international headlines in previous years, you might recall several news stories about China, Korea and other Asian nations taking to the streets every time a Japanese politician (such as former Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi) visited Yasukuni-jinja. Literally 'For the Peace of the Country Shrine', Yasukuni is the memorial shrine to Japan's war dead, some 2.5 million souls who died in combat.

However, although the conservative right-wing in Japan stands by their patriotic duty to honour their war dead, the complete story is just a tad bit more controversial (to say the least!).

To put things in perspective, it's important to fully understand the history of Yasukuni-jina. Although the shrine only dates back to 1869, in the years leading up to and during WWII, it was chosen as Tokyo's chief shrine of State Shintō. During this time, Yasukuni-jinja became the physical representation of the Japanese government's jingoistic policy. Needless to say, the Asian countries that suffered under the harsh grip of Imperial Japan are less than ecstatic when heads of state stop by and pay their respects.

Of course, that's only half the story. Despite a post-war constitutional commitment to the separation of religion and politics as well as a renunciation of militarism, in 1979 14 class-A war criminals (as determined by the US-led International Military Tribunal for the Far East) including Hideki Tojo (infamous WWII general) were enshrined here amid worldwide protests. And, as if to add salt to the wound, leading Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) politicians have made a routine habit of visiting the shrine on the anniversary of Japan's defeat in WWII (15 August).

Regardless of your political leanings, a visit to Yasukuni is highly recommended, especially since it's one of the most beautiful shrines in Tokyo. Yasukuni-jinja's enormous torii (gate) at the entrance is, unusually, made of steel, while the second set is made of bronze. The beautiful inner shrine is laid out in the style of Japan's most important Shintō edifice, Ise Shrine (100km southeast of Kyoto), and there are often seasonal displays of ikebana in the inner courtyard. The grounds are charmingly home to a flock of doves, which balances out all the war hawks that are about.

Beyond the inner shrine, visitors are likely to come away with mixed feelings about the shrine's museum, the Yūshūkan, Japan's oldest museum (1882). It starts fittingly enough for a war memorial, with stately cases depicting Japan's military heritage and traditions, punctuated with displays of swords and samurai armour, and art and poetry extolling the brave, daring and indomitable spirit of the Japanese people.

However, as you gradually progress through Japan's 19th- and early-20th-century military conflicts: the Meiji Restoration, Satsuma Rebellion, tussles in Russia, occupation in Korea, and elsewhere, tempers tend to get a bit heated.

But the source of the most controversy is the section of the museum covering the 'Greater East Asian War', which you probably know as WWII. While there is undoubtedly value in offering the Japanese perspective, one can also understand the anger of Japan's neighbours at the apparent watering down of the hardships they endured at Japan's hands. Consider this gem about the Rape of Nanjing (here called the 'Nanking Incident') of December 1937: 'The Chinese were soundly defeated, suffering heavy casualties. Inside the city, residents were once again able to live their lives in peace.' Or you might learn that Japan was forced into attacking Pearl Harbor due to American and British foreign policy of the time, or that 'The US had no interest in bringing the war to an early end.' If this strikes you as blatant and all-together despicable revisionism, many of Japan's neighbours feel the same.

That said, many of the exhibits are fascinating and harrowing. Note the kaiten (human torpedo), essentially a submarine version of the kamikaze aeroplane. You can listen to the final message of a kaiten pilot to his family - it's in Japanese but it's easy to remark how young he sounds. There's also the 'miracle coconut' inscribed and set afloat by a Japanese soldier in the Philippines shortly before his death in 1944. The coconut floated in the Pacific for 31 years before washing up very near his widow's hometown - you can still make out the Japanese characters. The walls of the last few galleries of the Yūshūkan are covered with seemingly endless photos of the dead, enough to leave a lump in many throats and make one wonder about the value of any war.

Finally, it appears unseemly to us to have to pay to visit a memorial, and it's at best of questionable taste to have a gift shop selling gaily decorated biscuits , chocolates and curry in a place of such solemnity.