The cherry blossom, or sakura, is the national flower of Japan. Every year, the flower blooms northward up the Japanese archipelago, following the warm steps on the page from Okinawa to Hokkaido. This period is celebrated as the cherry blossom festival, where family and friends gather under clouds of blossoms to hold flower-viewing parties.

But behind the face of spring dwells the chilling shadow of the most powerful and successful military propaganda in history.

During World War II, the symbol of the cherry blossom was systematically utilized to render the brutality of war aesthetic and glorify military operations. The metaphor of fallen blossoms was used to describe the deaths of soldiers who sacrificed their lives for the emperor.

The Yasukuni Shrine, where the souls of dead soldiers are still commemorated, featured the cherry tree as its emblem. During its expansion, Japan often planted cherry trees as a means of "claiming occupied territory as Japanese space."

At the height of the kamikaze attacks, many suicide missions were named after wild cherry blossoms, and the pilots often painted a single cherry blossom in pink on both sides of their airplane to symbolize their willingness to sacrifice their life. These young pilots were in their life's full spring and had much to hope for. Some shared doubts and reluctance about their deaths, but were helplessly crushed by pressure from an overwhelming militaristic culture and propaganda.

Today, much has changed. In the US, the cherry trees were introduced in 1912 as a state gift from Japan to the then first lady Helen Taft. They were subsequently planted along the Potomac River in Washington. Many politicians, including former secretary of state Hillary Clinton, have heralded the flower as a symbol of Japanese-US friendship.

Its host country, Japan, has experienced a similar change from war to peace. Since the end of the war, Japan has embraced a peace constitution. Despite its disputes with neighboring countries, Japan has remained a peaceful country for more than 60 years. If the cherry blossoms are indeed souls of fallen soldiers, they can rest at peace seeing the prosperity of postwar Japan and young men of their age free of the burden of war.

Today we hear again warmongering and rekindled debates on whether Japan should change its peace constitution. We should always remember the fallen souls behind each cherry blossom, and let it alert us to the danger and atrocities of military propaganda.

The author is a Fulbright scholar and PhD student at Tsinghua University. opinion@globaltimes.com.cn