In 1977, a group of Japanese World War II veterans and their family members returned to Pekhon, a small village populated by the Padaung tribe. They sobbed when digging up the bones of the Japanese soldiers who died more than three decades earlier.

Resentful of the centuries-old tutelage by the Burman kings, and looking askance at the alliance between the Aung San-led Burman freedom fighters and the invading Japanese Imperial Army, the Padaungs took the side of the British, whose colonial rule they regarded rather favourably, and repaid the atrocities of the Japanese soldiers in kind.

Over Padaung rice-wine and meal, the Japanese visitors begged the aging villagers for forgiveness. Before leaving, they invited their Padaung hosts to visit their country in the cherry-blossom viewing time, assuring them that the land of the rising sun no longer produced war-mongering and murderous occupiers that once terrorised a large part of Asia. Rather, Japan was by now a beautiful country.

As far as I know, none of the Padaung war survivors has made the trip to date. Even if the Japanese were generous enough to foot the bill, the Burmese military authorities would prefer to keep the renewed friendship between the two countries as their exclusive domain.

To be fair, Japanese landscapes are spectacular. Enkas, a type of Japanese folksong that has assumed the status of national treasure, often eulogise the profound beauty of the country with a melancholy rhythm. Some even joke that the gutters in Japan are so clean that one can drink from them without the risk of diarrhoea.

New vision

When Shinzo Abe took over as prime minister late last year, he has been quietly but steadfastly pushing for a new vision that would stress on the positive traits of Japan as a nation. Echoing the sentiments of the Japanese visitors to the Padaung village, Abe has vowed to reassert Japan's leading role in global affairs, and to inform the world of the beauty of Japan.

But Abe's agenda for the nation goes far deeper than re-landscaping. Being a grandson of Shinsuke Kishi, the minister for industry in the war cabinet headed by Hideki Tojo, Abe has never been known for remorse over the Pacific War. Hideshi Nakata, a left-leaning professor from Okinawa, told me not long ago that this was only understandable given that Abe's grandfather went on to serve as prime minister after the Americans decided to release him from prison to counter the increasing political prowess of the leftists in the 1950s. (Nakata also lamented that many Japanese scholars had refrained from criticising Abe and his Bush-friendly foreign policy in public for fear of losing favour with the powers-that-be, although they might ramble on the issues in private over sake.)

Weary of the pervasive disillusionment among the Japanese populace, Abe seeks to stress the respectful attitude towards Japanese traditions and culture, such as obedience, industriousness and loyalty. But this vision worries the neighbouring countries as well as the pacifists in Japan, for it is precisely such unquestioning "respectful attitude" that led the nation onto the path of war and invasion in the first half of the 20th century, culminating in the dropping of the two atomic bombs.

During his five years as president of the largely conservative Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), Junichiro Koizumi, the maverick leader managed to upset the long-cherished tradition of factional bargaining behind the scenes which almost always resulted in a weak and compromising prime minister. In a patent that had been repeated in Tony Blair's Britain and John Howard's Australia, Koizumi, aided by his huge popularity and clear mandate from the electorate, remade the prime ministership with bloated and more concentrated executive power exactly the kind of legacy that Abe had hoped to be bequeathed with.

Abe has also made clear his determination to revise the Peace Constitution, an attempt to remove all the obstacles should Japan's military assistance is needed for global mission, as it has done in the case of the Iraq War. During the Koizumi administration, Japan renewed and expanded the scope of its military partnership with the United States. When visiting Europe in January this year, Abe promised Nato, Japan's readiness to send troops abroad to "contribute to international peace and stability".

A proactive, more assertive military profile for a "beautiful" Japan is also underpinned by the upgrading of Defense Agency to Defense Ministry two months ago, giving military officials a greater hand in strategic policy-planning. For the first time since 1945, Japanese defense officials can raise their heads high vis vis their foreign ministry colleagues in cabinet meetings.

Devious politicians

On March 1, 2007, Abe stunned the press rooms and his Asian neighbours by stating that there was no conclusive evidence to suggest the "comfort women" - euphemism for prostitutes - were coerced to serve the fighting Japanese soldiers across Asia during WWII. The date was carefully chosen: it was the day when the Koreans were commemorating the anniversary of the 1919 Uprising against Japanese colonial rule.

In politics, honesty seems always like a needle in a haystack. Confronted with dismal polling performance, Abe may have hoped a nationalist tinge, unhealthy it may be, could save his skin. Despite the presence of thousands of former comfort women in China, North and South Korea, the Philippines, Malaysia and Taiwan, as well as substantial research carried out by scholars and activists Japanese and non-Japanese alike - Abe's provocative statement only reveals the true colour of a politician who is willing to trade in historical truth for political expediency.

While angry protests are taking place in Seoul, Manila and even Australia, the authorities in Beijing have only come up with a measured response, urging unsurprisingly Japan to face up to history.

China's near silence on Abe's remarks is not without reason. It was a US congressional hearing on the comfort women issue that prompted Abe to withstand the pressure to apologise in a hawkish manner, while the Beijing leadership has all along adhered jealously to the non-interference principle when it comes to foreign affairs. A strong reaction to Abe's revisionist comments would invariably be taken as lending legitimacy to the US congressional call for Japan to repent of its past sin, which in turn would undermine China's longstanding position that no country should interfere in the domestic politics of a sovereign state.

Moreover, the Chinese leadership has no appetite for any civic movement that operates outside of its perimeters. A number of NGOs in China have been providing former comfort women with legal and financial help to fight for justice in Japanese courts, but their plea for the Chinese government to bring up the issue with Tokyo has been falling on deaf ears. With a foe like this, the Japanese revisionist can afford to be gleeful indeed.

I neither speak the Padaung language nor have a Padaung acquaintance. I don't even know if Abe's latest gaffe has made it to the headlines in Shan State. But I do know even if the whole world acknowledges Japan's physical beauty, it will only take a handful of devious politicians to destroy it.