Recently, I have been hearing the name “Iran” in the news more often again.
Missiles, airstrikes, rising tensions—
Every time I hear these words, I feel a slight uneasiness in my chest.
In fact, when I was a child, I lived in Iran because of my father’s work.
During that time, it was the final stage of the Iran–Iraq War and one of the most intense periods of fighting. Whenever enemy aircraft approached, sirens would sound across the city all at once, followed immediately by blackouts. Escaping to the basement with my family became part of everyday life.
Although bombs never fell directly on our home or in our neighborhood, I still cannot forget the deep booming sound of anti-aircraft fire that seemed to resonate through my entire body.
During periods when the fighting became especially intense, my family and people from my father’s company sometimes evacuated to the outskirts of the city.
Then, during one spring vacation, while my family was outside Iran, the situation suddenly worsened. Following a warning issued by Iraq declaring “the entire airspace of Iran a combat zone, where all civilian aircraft may become targets,” the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs advised Japanese nationals to evacuate. As a result, we were unable to re-enter Iran. We returned to Japan with only what we had with us during the trip, and we never returned to Iran after that.
I heard about the dramatic escape stories of my Japanese classmates and their families who had been living in Iran at the same time only some time after returning to Japan.
At that time, Japan’s Self-Defense Forces Law did not anticipate overseas humanitarian operations, making it legally difficult to dispatch Self-Defense Forces aircraft. Japanese airlines had also prepared charter flights, but they were ultimately canceled following the decision of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Since airlines from other countries prioritized evacuating their own citizens, Japanese nationals were left stranded in the middle of the conflict. Amid such circumstances, the Turkish government generously dispatched aircraft free of charge for the evacuation of Japanese citizens.
Ertuğrul（毎日新聞）
Behind this rescue operation that crossed national borders was said to be an act of gratitude dating back to 1890, when the Ottoman warship Ertuğrul was shipwrecked off the coast of Wakayama, and local Japanese people risked their lives to rescue Turkish crew members they had never met before. The story of the Ertuğrul is not widely known in Japan, but I once heard from a Turkish person that in Turkey it is even included in school textbooks, and that there is hardly anyone who does not know the story.
The Japanese people who had been left without a way home were safely evacuated on those Turkish aircraft. “When the plane finally took off, everyone on board hugged one another and applauded, thinking, ‘We’re finally safe…’” — when I later heard that story, it nearly brought me to tears as well.
These two rescue stories were later made into the film Kainan 1890.
About forty years have passed since then.
Even as the world continues to change its form, wars and tensions still continue to repeat themselves today.
At the same time, there are still people somewhere in the world choosing to help others.
Which side would I want to be on?
That is one question I hope never to forget.
