Earlier this week, the Chinese Ambassador to Nepal, Chen Song, reflected in a commemorative piece on the significance of China marking the 80th Anniversary of its Victory over Japanese Aggression and World Anti-Fascist War. Drawing on China’s modern history from repeated foreign invasions to the Japanese occupation and the Nanjing Massacre, he underscored the courage, unity, and resilience of the Chinese people. Citing President Xi Jinping’s words that “history is a mirror that illuminates the present and future, teaching nations to learn from past mistakes and avoid repeating them,” Ambassador Chen emphasized that remembrance is not about dwelling on past wounds, but about drawing lessons that can guide nations toward peace and resilience.
What made the reflections particularly meaningful for Nepali readers was the Ambassador’s acknowledgment of Nepal’s contributions during the war. He noted how Gurkha soldiers fought alongside Chinese and Allied forces across Asia, Europe, and various other parts of the world, resisting fascist aggression and exemplifying shared courage and sacrifice. This framing not only recognized a historical truth but also offered a moral lesson: that nations which endure hardship, act in solidarity, and build inner strength, can overcome even the darkest of times in pursuit of peace.
Today, on September 3, China marked the 80th anniversary of the end of the Second World War with a grand Victory Day parade at Tiananmen Square in Beijing. While the event featured military precision and historic participation, it was about more than just strength. For China, it was a deeply symbolic moment, a national act of remembrance that honored the sacrifices of millions and reaffirmed its ongoing commitment to peace, resilience, and sovereignty.
The 80-Year Arc: China’s WWII legacy and the war of resistance
In China, World War II is remembered not just as a global conflict, but as the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression, from 1937 to 1945. While the world often recalls the European battlefields, China faced a distinct and brutal struggle of its own. Over 14 million lives were lost, and cities like Nanjing, Chongqing, and Shanghai bore the scars of unspeakable atrocities, including the Nanjing Massacre, where hundreds of thousands of civilians perished. This long, painful chapter tested the endurance of the Chinese people, shaping a modern national identity rooted in survival, courage, and the determination to resist oppression.
Thus, September 3—Victory over Japan Day—is more than a historical date for Chinese people. It is a moment of reflection and remembrance. Military parades, tributes to veterans, and solemn ceremonies honor not only victory but also the human cost of war. For China, these acts are as much about healing as they are about pride, acknowledging suffering while reaffirming resilience. Chinese believe that the echoes of the past still linger in the streets and communities that survived the war, reminding the nation and the world that memory is powerful. Hence, for the Chinese people, this day is a reminder that true strength, unity, and the pursuit of peace are built not just in moments of victory, but through struggle, sacrifice, and remembering the past.
Regional and global significance
Today, the significance of this day went far beyond China’s borders. Across Asia, where questions of security, sovereignty, and cooperation remain pressing, commemorations like this serve as reminders that the lessons of history are as relevant now as they were eight decades ago. The presence of international participants highlighted this broader meaning: leaders and representatives from countries such as Russia, Indonesia, Malaysia, and several European nations attended, navigating the delicate balance between honoring history and maintaining contemporary diplomatic ties, particularly with Japan. Their participation underscored that remembrance is not confined to national borders, it is a shared act of respect for those who sacrificed to defend peace and dignity.
Nepal’s presence carried its own symbolic weight. While some questioned whether Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli should have attended, viewing the decision as “choosing sides” misses the deeper point. For Nepal, participation was not about taking a stance against Japan, a modern democracy and valued partner, but about standing in solidarity with all who suffered and resisted during the Second World War. It was a tribute to the thousands of Gurkha soldiers who fought across Asia, Europe, and North Africa, many of whom never returned home. By joining the commemorations, Nepal affirmed that its own history, though modest in scale, is woven into Asia’s broader narrative of courage and sacrifice.
In this sense, Nepal’s role at the parade was less about geopolitics and more about dignity: acknowledging the past, honoring shared struggles, and showing that even small nations have a voice in shaping Asia’s collective memory. By participating quietly and respectfully, Nepal made a subtle but powerful statement of independence and solidarity while also committing to remembrance.
A forgotten history brought into focus: Nepal’s quiet role in a global war
Nepal, though never colonized, did not remain neutral during World War II. Over 200,000 Gurkha soldiers served in the British Army, fighting on multiple fronts across the world. As Ambassador Chen highlighted in his commemorative piece, Nepali Gurkhas in the British Army fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the Chinese army in Burma and played a crucial role in defeating the Japanese forces. Thousands of Nepalis were killed or went missing in the line of duty.
While Nepal was not officially a warring nation, its contributions were historically significant. Yet much of this history has remained quiet, often overshadowed by the narratives of larger regional powers. That is why Nepal’s official presence at China’s Victory Day parade this year carries deep meaning.
By joining China in commemorating the war, Nepal has honored the sacrifices of its own soldiers and asserts its place within Asia’s wartime memory. Its participation expresses solidarity with anti-fascism and resistance to imperialism, affirming values of peace and historical truth. In doing so, Nepal has reclaimed rightful place in the memory of World War II, not as a bystander, but as an active participant in the regional struggle for freedom and stability.
Diplomacy and the weight of history
Diplomacy, however, is never simple. Events like these inevitably stir deep emotions, especially in Asia, where wartime history remains sensitive and unresolved for many. Some reports have stated that Japan, now a peaceful democracy and valued regional partner, asked European and Asian countries to refrain from attending the military parade. This can be taken as a reminder that historical wounds still shape today’s politics.
Many people in Nepal even questioned whether Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli should have attended, wondering if Nepal’s participation could have been handled more diplomatically. These are fair debates in a region where symbolic gestures carry lasting weight.
Nevertheless, the quiet presence of former Japanese Prime Minister Yukio Hatoyama offered a subtle but powerful reminder that reconciliation often begins with individuals, even when governments tread carefully. Hatoyama, during his time in office, often emphasized the importance of facing Japan’s wartime past with honesty. His presence in Beijing, therefore, served not as a political maneuver but as a moral acknowledgment of history’s weight and the lives lost.
For its part, China has consistently framed the Victory Day parade not as an act of blame, but as a moment of solemn reflection. By highlighting the human cost of war and the resilience of those who endured it, China presents the commemoration as part of a broader effort to preserve national memory not to reopen wounds, but to ensure that such tragedies are never repeated. It is also important to clarify that while the historical focus is on China’s resistance against Imperial Japan, the intent is not to condemn present-day Japan or its people. Rather, it is a tribute to the millions who suffered and a reaffirmation of the need for peace and sovereignty in the region.
No one can argue that Japan today is a peaceful country, very different from the Imperial Japan that committed atrocities across Asia. Its modern democracy, rule of law, and global engagement stand in stark contrast to the militarism of the early 20th century. While history remembers the horrors of war, it is important to distinguish between past aggressors and the Japan of today. Recognizing this allows us to honor history without conflating it with the present, and to see Japan as a partner in building a stable and peaceful region.
However, we must also remember that every country remembers the past in its own way. For China, the parade is a marker of survival and unity; for Japan, caution around such events reflects its emphasis on present day peace, democratic values, and building a future-oriented society. Neither approach is wrong they simply reflect different histories, and different paths toward healing.
How history shapes nations, insights from my time in China
As someone who studied in China, I had the privilege of witnessing how deeply the Chinese people live with their history. I remember visiting the Museum of the War of Chinese People's Resistance Against Japanese Aggression in Beijing. It was emotional and carefully curated to instill a sense of justice and remembrance.
When talking about the history, my Chinese friends would be proud, not angry. They carried their history like a quiet strength. For them, the war was not just about defeating Japan but about reclaiming dignity after a long “Century of Humiliation.” It symbolized a national awakening, a reminder that survival and sovereignty were not given, but earned through struggle and sacrifice. During those years, I watched documentaries, visited memorials, and listened to stories about how Chinese families endured the war. What struck me most was how remembrance in China wasn’t about clinging to the past but drawing strength from it. History there functions as both shield and compass, defining identity and guiding the future.
Last year, I traveled to Nanjing, a city that evokes some of the darkest chapters of the Second World War. Nanjing moved me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. While wandering the city, I spoke with several locals mostly young as there weren’t many old people. Many youngsters quietly shared that they had no grandparents; most had been killed during the Nanjing Massacre, others had fled the city, never to return. The atrocities of the “Rape of Nanjing”—mass killings, sexual violence, and acts of unimaginable brutality remain etched in the city’s memory. Yet these stories were told without hatred, only with a quiet sorrow. Standing there, listening, I finally understood why commemorations like the Victory Day parade are so significant for China. As one local shared with me “they are not about triumphalism, but about honoring survival and dignity in the face of our barbaric history.”
Living in China, I also saw signs of reconciliation and healing. During my years in Beijing, I lived in a university dormitory just next to the China-Japan Friendship Hospital, a medical institution built in the 1980s as a gesture of goodwill after the normalization of diplomatic ties between the two countries. Funded and equipped by Japan, it symbolized humanitarian cooperation, medical advancement, and trust-building between the two countries. At my university, I had a bunch of Chinese friends as well as Japanese friends. There was no discrimination, only genuine friendships and mutual respect. Both sides acknowledged their histories, but they did not let those histories divide them. That experience taught me that remembrance, when carried with honesty and empathy, can be a bridge rather than a barrier.
In that moment, I realized that memory can either divide or deepen humanity. Nanjing had chosen the latter, and I saw the same spirit reflected in the everyday friendships between Chinese and Japanese students in Beijing. For me, this carried a lesson that applies directly to Nepal: we must remember that Japan today is a peaceful democracy, and China is a neighbor whose history shapes its identity. Finding balance between these two relationships is not about taking sides, it is about choosing peace, and the dignity of memory.
(Ms Baral holds a Bachelor’s degree from the University of International Business and Economics in Beijing)
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