It was a morning when Tokyo was blanketed in snow. A group of young military officers, wearing white sashes, stormed the offices of The Asahi Shimbun in the Yurakucho district in central Tokyo.

“Bring out the person in charge,” they demanded. They burst in, pressing pistols against employees’ chests.

It was one scene from the so-called "February 26 Incident," an attempted coup d’état by a group of young Imperial Japanese Army officers that took place on Feb. 26, 1936, 90 years ago.

Leading them was an army lieutenant who had just come from murdering Finance Minister Korekiyo Takahashi (1854–1936), who had tried to rein in further growth in military spending.

Most of the newspaper’s staff were forced to leave the building. The officers declared that this was “tenchu" (heaven’s punishment) for the paper’s espousal of liberalism, then overturned the type cases used in letterpress printing in those days so that publication would become impossible before departing.

In fact, the paper reportedly had spare type cases. So if it had had the will and the courage, it could still have published the evening edition. But fearing that doing so would provoke the military, it refrained.

Even in the morning edition of the following day, Feb. 27, there was no detailed report of the attack on its own offices; the editorial instead discussed “reform of the job placement system.”

Zenmaro Toki (1885–1980), a Japanese poet who was then a member of the editorial board, composed a verse lamenting the newspaper’s muted response to the storming of its offices: “Pitiful, this speechless newspaper—in its editorial, it merely wrote of foreign matters and let it pass.”

As I reflect on this grim episode, which left a disgraceful stain on our own history, I cannot help but think how difficult it is to defend freedom of speech against the prevailing mood of the times.

Once society becomes tightly bound and constrained by oppressive power, it is already too late.

The currents of history, more often than not, show warning signs before they turn dark. A look at the chronology of this country’s prewar history shows that even before the incident, there had already been many moves to suppress free expression and thought.

To read the signs of history, to imagine what may come next, and to speak out—that is the role of the media.

There is one line we should all keep engraved in our hearts. Perhaps it is only a coincidence that pure white snow appears here as well.

Erich Kaestner (1899-1974), a German writer best known for his children’s books and his sharp critiques of Nazism, said: “One must not wait until the snowball has become an avalanche. One must crush the rolling snowball underfoot. Once it has become an avalanche, no one can stop it anymore.”

—The Asahi Shimbun, Feb. 27

Vox Populi, Vox Dei is a popular daily column that takes up a wide range of topics, including culture, arts and social trends and developments. Written by veteran Asahi Shimbun writers, the column provides useful perspectives on and insights into contemporary Japan and its culture.

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