Beyond Massacre: Why History Calls It ‘The Rape of Nanking’

The phrase "Rape of Nanking" carries a deliberate double meaning that captures both the literal sexual violence and the metaphorical violation of an entire city. When Japanese forces conquered China's capital in December 1937, they unleashed six weeks of systematic brutality that would shock even war-hardened observers. Yet within this darkness, a small group of Westerners created the Nanking Safety Zone, risking their lives to save hundreds of thousands. The novel Nanking Safety Zone brings these rescuers to life, showing how ordinary people confronted extraordinary evil.

The Weight of a Word

The term "rape" in "Rape of Nanking" operates on multiple levels. Most directly, it refers to the systematic sexual violence Japanese soldiers perpetrated against Chinese women and girls. Historians estimate between 20,000 and 80,000 women were sexually assaulted during the six-week occupation. But the word also captures the broader violation—the pillaging of a city, the destruction of its cultural heritage, and the complete breakdown of human morality.

Iris Chang, whose groundbreaking 1997 book The Rape of Nanking brought these events to Western attention, deliberately chose this terminology. She understood that "massacre" alone couldn't convey the deliberate, systematic nature of the violence. The word "rape" forces us to confront the intimate, personal nature of the atrocities—this wasn't distant artillery fire or strategic bombing, but face-to-face brutality.

The Systematic Nature of Sexual Violence

What distinguished Nanjing from other wartime atrocities was the organized nature of the sexual violence. This wasn't the random violence of undisciplined troops but appeared to be a deliberate strategy of terror. Japanese soldiers went house to house, searching for women of any age. They established "comfort stations" where women were imprisoned and repeatedly assaulted. Military officers not only tolerated but often participated in and organized these crimes.

The sexual violence served multiple purposes for the occupying force: it terrorized the population into submission, it humiliated Chinese men who couldn't protect their families, and it destroyed the social fabric of Chinese society. In Confucian culture, where female chastity was paramount and family honor sacred, mass rape was a tool of cultural annihilation.

Women who survived often faced rejection from their own families and communities. The shame and trauma extended far beyond the immediate victims, poisoning family relationships and community bonds for generations. This multiplier effect of suffering was not accidental—it was the intended outcome of systematized sexual violence as a weapon of war.

December 13, 1937: The Beginning of Horror

When Japanese troops entered Nanjing on December 13, the killing and sexual violence began immediately. General Tang Shengzhi had fled, abandoning his troops and the civilian population. Chinese soldiers threw down their weapons and tried to blend in with civilians. In response, Japanese forces began executing any male of military age, while simultaneously beginning their assault on the female population.

Minnie Vautrin, an American missionary at Ginling Women's College, wrote in her diary: "There probably is no crime that has not been committed in this city today." John Rabe, the German businessman who headed the Safety Zone, recorded: "I hear nothing but rape. If husbands or brothers intervene, they're shot. If you go out on the streets, you witness brutalities of every kind."

The Western observers were uniquely positioned to document these crimes. Their neutral status gave them some protection, though not complete immunity. More importantly, their written records, photographs, and films would provide incontrovertible evidence of what happened, making denial impossible.

The Nanking Safety Zone: An Island in Hell

As chaos engulfed the city, twenty-two Westerners—missionaries, doctors, businessmen, and educators—made an extraordinary decision. They would stay in Nanjing and create a Safety Zone, a neutral area where civilians could seek refuge. Led by George Fitch, director of the YMCA, and John Rabe, a Nazi Party member whose swastika armband paradoxically became a symbol of protection, this group established a zone covering 3.86 square kilometers.

The novel Nanking Safety Zone captures the impossible choices these rescuers faced daily. When Japanese soldiers came to the zone demanding women for "inspection," how should the committee respond? When protecting one group meant potentially sacrificing another, how did they choose? These weren't abstract moral dilemmas but immediate, life-or-death decisions.

Minnie Vautrin: Guardian of Women and Girls

Perhaps no figure better exemplifies the heroic resistance than Minnie Vautrin, the American missionary who transformed Ginling Women's College into a sanctuary. When Japanese soldiers arrived demanding women, Vautrin stood at the gates, physically blocking their entry. She housed over 10,000 women and girls in facilities designed for a few hundred.

Vautrin's courage came at enormous personal cost. She worked eighteen-hour days, personally intervening to stop assaults, hiding young women in attics and basements, and creating elaborate deception systems to protect her charges. She distributed certificates claiming the bearers were students or staff, providing some protection against assault. When Japanese soldiers climbed the walls at night, she patrolled with a flashlight, her American presence the only deterrent.

John Rabe: The 'Good Nazi' of Nanking

John Rabe's story challenges our historical categories. A German businessman and Nazi Party member, he used his swastika armband and Hitler's photograph to protect Chinese civilians. As Japan's ally, Germany had influence the Japanese military couldn't entirely ignore. Rabe exploited this relationship brilliantly, housing 650 refugees in his own property and protecting hundreds of thousands more in the Safety Zone.

Rabe's diaries, featured prominently in historical fiction about this period, reveal a man horrified by what he witnessed. He wrote detailed reports to Hitler, naively believing the Führer would intervene to stop Japan's atrocities. Instead, upon returning to Germany, Rabe was arrested by the Gestapo and ordered never to speak of Nanjing again.

The novel explores Rabe's moral evolution—how a Nazi Party member became a humanitarian hero. His actions saved an estimated 200,000 lives, yet he died in poverty in 1950, his story unknown until his diaries were discovered decades later.

Robert Wilson: The Last Surgeon

Dr. Robert Wilson was the only surgeon remaining in Nanjing during the massacre, working at the University Hospital. He performed operations around the clock, treating victims of bayonet wounds, gunshots, and sexual assault. His letters home, incorporated into novels about this period, provide clinical yet devastating accounts of the violence.

"The only fun I have is tricking the Japanese," Wilson wrote. When soldiers came seeking women, he would claim they all had infectious diseases. When they demanded medical supplies, he hid them. His black humor masked deep trauma—Wilson never fully recovered from what he witnessed.

The Daily Struggle: Tactics of Rescue

The novel Nanking Safety Zone brings to life the ingenious methods the committee used to protect refugees:

Organized Administration: George Fitch's YMCA became a model for refugee management. He established a registration system, work programs for refugees to earn food, and even recreational activities for children to provide some normalcy amid chaos.

False Documentation: They created elaborate paperwork claiming women were American citizens or mission employees. Though the Japanese often saw through these ruses, the paperwork sometimes bought crucial time. Fitch personally signed hundreds of "employment certificates" for the YMCA, claiming refugees were essential personnel.

Physical Intervention: Committee members literally threw themselves between soldiers and victims. Their foreign status usually prevented soldiers from killing them outright, though several were beaten or threatened. Fitch once blocked a doorway for hours, refusing to move despite repeated threats from Japanese soldiers demanding access to refugees inside.

Strategic Deception: They claimed areas were contaminated with disease, hid women in coal piles and ceiling spaces, and dressed young women as boys or elderly people. Fitch turned the YMCA's coal storage into an underground network of hiding spaces, personally checking on hidden refugees during Japanese inspections.

Diplomatic Pressure: They sent daily reports to embassies, knowing that documentation might eventually lead to intervention or at least post-war justice. Fitch's reports were particularly detailed, including names, dates, and specific unit identifications when possible.

Moral Authority: Sometimes, sheer moral outrage worked. John Magee, an Episcopal minister, found that loudly praying while filming atrocities sometimes shamed soldiers into stopping. Fitch would often invoke his status as a Christian minister, sometimes conducting impromptu prayer services when soldiers arrived, using religious ceremony as a shield.

The Cost of Witnessing

The psychological toll on the rescuers was severe. They witnessed horrors beyond imagination while maintaining the composure necessary to negotiate with perpetrators. The novel explores this psychological burden—how do you smile and bow to officers you've seen commit atrocities? How do you choose which victims to save when you can't save them all?

Minnie Vautrin suffered a nervous breakdown in 1940 and committed suicide in 1941, leaving a note saying "Had I ten perfect lives, I would give them all to China." George Fitch, who smuggled film footage of the massacre out of China, suffered nightmares for the rest of his life. These rescuers paid a price for their heroism that extended far beyond their time in Nanjing.

The Power of Documentation

Perhaps the most lasting contribution of the Safety Zone committee was their meticulous documentation. They understood that bearing witness was itself a form of resistance. John Magee's film footage, George Fitch's smuggled reports, Rabe's detailed diaries, and Vautrin's daily records created an undeniable historical record.

The novel emphasizes how documentation became an act of defiance. Every photograph taken, every incident recorded, was a declaration that these crimes would not be forgotten. The Japanese military's attempts to deny the massacre would fail because these Westerners had created too much evidence.

This documentation served multiple purposes:

• It provided evidence for war crimes trials

• It prevented historical denial

• It gave voices to victims who might otherwise be forgotten

• It demonstrated that even in humanity's darkest moments, some people chose to bear witness

Women's Resistance and Survival

While the novel focuses on Western rescuers, it also highlights Chinese women's own resistance and survival strategies. Women hid in sewers for weeks, disguised themselves as men or elderly people, and created networks to warn each other of approaching soldiers. Some fought back physically, though this usually meant death.

The Safety Zone became a space where Chinese and Western women worked together for survival. Chinese nurses and teachers helped run the refugee camps, distributed food, and cared for assault victims. Their courage, operating without any international protection, was extraordinary.

The Question of Complicity

The novel doesn't shy away from difficult questions about Western complicity. Why did Western governments not intervene more forcefully? The committee members were sending desperate telegrams describing mass murder and systematic rape, yet their governments prioritized maintaining relations with Japan.

The rescuers themselves grappled with these questions. Were they, by maintaining neutrality and negotiating with Japanese officers, legitimizing the occupation? By selecting who could enter the Safety Zone, were they complicit in the fate of those excluded? The novel explores these moral ambiguities without easy answers.

Legacy and Memory

The term "Rape of Nanking" ensures we cannot sanitize this history. It forces us to confront the full spectrum of violence—not just murder but sexual assault, not just military action but intimate violation. The Westerners who witnessed and documented these crimes understood that memory itself was a form of justice.

The novel Nanking Safety Zone serves a crucial purpose in keeping this memory alive. By personalizing the rescuers and their choices, it makes history immediate and relevant. It shows that genocide doesn't happen in the abstract—it happens when individual people make individual choices to participate, resist, or look away.

Modern Relevance

The story of the Nanking Safety Zone resonates today because sexual violence remains a weapon of war. From Bosnia to Rwanda, from Syria to Myanmar, rape continues to be used as a tool of terror and ethnic cleansing. The courage of the Nanking rescuers reminds us that individuals can make a difference, even against overwhelming evil.

The novel's portrayal of documentation as resistance is particularly relevant in our age of information warfare. The Safety Zone committee understood that controlling the narrative was crucial—that deniers would emerge, that victims would be silenced, that perpetrators would rewrite history. Their meticulous record-keeping was an act of faith that truth would eventually matter.

Conclusion: The Power of Ordinary Heroes

The "Rape of Nanking" stands as one of history's darkest chapters, but the story of the Safety Zone offers a glimpse of light. Twenty-two Westerners and countless Chinese collaborators saved hundreds of thousands of lives through courage, cleverness, and sheer determination. They couldn't stop the massacre, but they carved out a space where humanity survived.

The novel Nanking Safety Zone transforms statistics into stories, showing us that heroism isn't always dramatic—sometimes it's standing at a gate, saying "no" to armed soldiers. Sometimes it's writing in a diary when you're too exhausted to stand. Sometimes it's taking a photograph when your hands are shaking with fear.

The term "Rape of Nanking" ensures we remember not just the scale but the nature of the violence—intimate, systematic, and designed to destroy not just bodies but spirits. But the stories of the rescuers remind us that even in the face of systematic evil, individual choices matter. In choosing to stay, to witness, to protect, and to document, these ordinary people became extraordinary. Their legacy challenges us: faced with injustice, will we be bystanders or rescuers? Will we look away or bear witness? Will we prioritize our safety or risk ourselves for others?

The answer to these questions determines not just individual morality but the fate of civilizations. The Rape of Nanking shows us humanity at its worst, but the Safety Zone shows us humanity at its best—proof that even in the deepest darkness, some people choose to be lights.