My interest in military history led me some years ago to make the acquaintance of a 17th century Japanese warrior named Miyamoto Musashi - arguably the greatest swordsman of all time.

His no-nonsense combat tutorial, The Book of Five Rings, was recommended by a friend. I found a copy in a bookstore's business management section, where executives searched for strategic insights.

In many ways the book parallels and sometimes surpasses The Art of War, written by China's Sun Tzu 1,000 years earlier.

I prize the samurai sword - a katana - that I acquired to help me understand Musashi better. I'll admit that my attempts to flourish it as I imagined he would were both humbling and a bit dangerous. But it was a nice addition to my collection of small arms. I look for weapons that played a significant role in war through the centuries, and I have some quality examples. Holding history in my hands, I can close the distance with the past.

For Musashi, sword and man were one. Physically powerful from his youth, he could wield a heavy long sword - normally a two-handed weapon - in one hand and a companion sword in the other. He fought at least 60 deadly duels, starting at age 13, and never lost until cancer killed him at age 62.

His insights were as sharp as his blade. Speaking of defeating an enemy, Musashi observed: "If his spirit is not extinguished, he may be beaten superficially yet remain undefeated in spirit deep inside."

That statement struck me as I read the news recently. It neatly describes, with cutting irony, Japan's political right wing, which remains "undefeated in spirit" over the country's militarism of the 1930s and 40s.

Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, to his discredit, is among those who refuse to shoulder the full weight of his country's defeat and to discharge the duty of making amends.

My parents taught me that a man acknowledges mistakes forthrightly; a boy makes excuses. Abe should be kneeling - as did German chancellor Willie Brandt, an honorable man, at the Warsaw ghetto in 1970. Japan's leader should offer a straightforward apology on behalf of his country, rather than indulging in distortion and blame.

Japan, after all, was bombed into oblivion in World War II for good reason, and that reason does not include its being a heroic defender of the weak. My father and four of my uncles went to war because the aggressors needed to be stopped. They risked their lives not to acquire power but to prevent humanity's destruction. They all survived, but countless millions died.

Nor should the world forget Japan's atrocities: horrific medical experiments on living people, beheadings and murders worthy of the Islamic State, and other well-documented crimes, including sex slavery.

Because of his samurai ethic, Musashi would have chosen death over life with dishonor. Today, sadly, some Japanese leaders seem to prefer the latter.

Until that changes - until its misplaced national pride is set aside forever - Japan will remain unforgiven. It has nothing to be proud of.

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