From Japonisme to Cool Japan

The government's "Cool Japan" initiative has gradually begun to take shape in terms of its basic concept and focus. For each targeted region of the world, the government intends to compile a list of cultural priorities among such categories as fashion, food, creative content, design, and manufacturing. This is a smart policy, and as someone who has been urging such an initiative for a long time, I welcome the new approach spearheaded by the Cabinet Office.

In the late 19th century, a craze for Japanese arts and crafts—from ukiyoe and fine ceramics to everyday household items—seized hold of Europe, particularly France. The rise of Japonisme, as this phenomenon came to be known, certainly owed something to the fine craftsmanship and aesthetic qualities of Japanese art, but it was also powered by a prevailing fascination with the exotic. And while a superficial taste for things Japanese persisted into the early twentieth century, a genuine knowledge of Japanese culture never penetrated beyond a narrow elite of artists and intellectuals.

The Japan boom of recent years is different in many ways. To begin with, it is predicated on a worldwide recognition of post–World War II Japan as a successful industrial nation that became the world's second-largest economy and realized a stable modern society, placing the country on par with the developed nations of the West. With this status now a given, Japan is attempting to show the world a new face as a country with a long and venerable cultural tradition, as well as sophisticated technological know-how that it uses to foster and export a highly diverse pop culture. Unlike Japonisme, this emphasis on "Cool Japan" is supported by a wide base of people with at least a basic understanding of Japanese culture, and the universality of this culture has been steadily gaining worldwide recognition. Today, culture is the vehicle for Japan to build a "brand" associated around the globe with such qualities as modesty, peace, stability, consideration for others, and subtlety.

Japanese culture is multifaceted, spanning a great variety of traditional and popular forms. Many international programs and events highlight Japanese culture these days, running the gamut from tea ceremony, ikebana, and ukiyoe to anime, video games, and J-pop (Japanese popular music). To be sure, some cultural ambassadors remain wedded to the traditional arts and reluctant to focus on contemporary, popular genres, but the debate over the value of Japanese pop culture is really academic today, now that its global reach is an undeniable fact.

One need only visit any of the Japan-focused overseas expos, conventions, and other international events to be struck by the enthusiasm and energy that Japanese pop culture has been generating globally. There are at least 40 such major international events, attracting 10,000 fans or more, including the Japanese festival in Indonesia (Bandung), Anime Festival Asia in Singapore, Mainichi's Japan Festa in Bangkok, the China International Cartoon & Animation Festival in Hangzhou, Armageddon Expo in New Zealand, Lucca Comics & Games in Italy, Salón del Manga in Barcelona, and Japan Expo in Paris. And if one also includes smaller events related to Japan, the number is more on the order of 400. Most of these are cross-genre festival-style fairs and expos that cater primarily to young people via anime, DVDs, video games, and J-pop, while concurrently introducing people to traditional genres such as martial arts, tea ceremony, and calligraphy. Manga and anime have become the gateway to Japanese language and traditional culture for growing numbers of young people worldwide.

Beyond the Boom

Japan’s new cultural diplomacy is not divided into two separate tracks, with one focused on educational programs introducing the traditional arts, and the other promoting creative-content industries. Rather, it is a single, multifaceted diplomatic undertaking that mobilizes every sector of Japan. At France's Japan Expo, the largest Japanese pop-culture festival in Europe, METI and the Japan Tourism Agency have each had booths of their own for several years now. At last year’s expo the two organizations launched a collaborative program that also involved the Embassy of Japan and the Agency for Cultural Affairs, featuring performances of traditional Japanese music, Japanese language lessons using anime, presentations focusing on specific regions of Japan, and more.

All of this is to be applauded. But for a culture to be truly universal, rather than just a passing fad, it must have beauty, depth, and lasting impact. Ultimately, the true beauty, depth, and impact of Japanese culture lies in its celebration of a simple, austere, and subtle aesthetic typified by the concepts wabi and sabi—and this is something difficult to appreciate without study and cultivation. This means that effectively transmitting the real substance and depth of Japanese culture, as opposed to the fleeting attractions of manga and pop music, will require a more thoughtful and creative approach.

The key question is what we can do to turn the current fascination with Japan into something more lasting and meaningful than the Japonisme of the nineteenth century. If the government is serious about cultural diplomacy, it must be prepared to tackle this challenge and I sincerely hope that they will do so. (Written on September 15, 2011.)

In This Series

Japan’s Future Place in the International Community
Toward a New Era in Cultural Diplomacy (September 15)
Doing Our Part for Global Security (May 9)
A Shift in National Consciousness (April 22)

Watanabe Hirotaka

Graduated from Tokyo University of Foreign Studies, where he majored in French. Received his doctorate from Keiō University and a diploma in advanced studies from the Sorbonne in Paris. Handled public relations and cultural affairs as minister at the Japanese embassy in Paris from 2008 to 2010. Has taught at Tokyo University of Foreign Studies since 1995. Publications include Mitteran jidai no Furansu (France in the Mitterrand Years) and Bei-Ō dōmei no kyōchō to tairitsu (Cooperation and Conflict in the Euro-American Alliance).

In the United States, legislation to raise the public debt ceiling narrowly squeaked through the House of Representatives after a prolonged political tussle. In Europe, the situation of Greece’s public finances is no better than it was a year ago. European Union leaders have managed to stave off calamity for now by persuading private-sector creditors to refinance Greek national bonds—but the withdrawal of Greece from the euro or the return of the deutsche mark are no longer out of the question. For now, the stability of the euro depends on whether Europe’s political leadership can persuade voters that the long-term benefits of a regional union outweigh the short-term costs.

The Risk of a Technology Drain

But the political and economic crisis engulfing Japan is even more serious than the situation in the United States and Europe. The Diet recently ratified a second supplementary budget to fund reconstruction, even though the first supplementary budget has hardly been put into effect. The reality is that the budget is being deliberately doled out in dribs and drabs in order to prolong the life of the Kan administration. As a result, rebuilding efforts in Tōhoku are grinding to a halt. On July 22, the Cabinet Office issued its Annual Report on the Japanese Economy and Public Finance. The report shows no evidence that the government understands the true nature of the crisis facing Japan. Although it acknowledges that the overall trend of the economy continues to be deflationary, it shows little awareness of the problem of supply constraints since the disaster. Even if the supply of components from Tōhoku factories recovers from the immediate effects of the disaster, restoring the interrupted supply chains to pre-disaster levels will almost certainly prove impossible. Japanese companies have been quick to relocate to Taiwan and South Korea, and newly emerging economies are working hard to lure Japanese components manufacturers to build factories and other infrastructure in their countries.

Emergency repairs on the Port of Kobe were completed within two months of the Great Hanshin Earthquake in 1995, allowing the port to resume container handling on a limited basis. But it was another two years before rebuilding was complete and the port was fully operational again. By this time, much of the port’s container business had relocated to South Korea and other countries in Asia, and Kobe was handling only around half the volume it had been handling before the quake. Even after the port reopened, only about 20% of this lost volume returned to Kobe. The Tōhoku disaster areas are learning from this experience now. Even if the government announces that manufacturing has made a recovery, many companies have already decided not to return to Tōhoku. Given the ongoing electricity shortages, many companies will continue to shift production away from Tōhoku. This is likely to be a major problem for the region for some time to come. Toray Industries, a globally important company that supplies the carbon fiber materials used in Boeing’s latest aircraft, has already announced that it will shift production to South Korea.

There is a real possibility that cutting-edge technologies jointly developed over more than 30 years by Japanese industry, government, and academia will be relocated to South Korea. Japanese companies are making cold, rational decisions based on economic factors. These include the unstable power supply situation and the vacillating economic policies of an unreliable political administration.

The Government’s Worthless White Paper

The government needs to lay out a clear economic policy before it is too late. Failure to do so will only accelerate the hollowing out of Japan. At the moment, the prospects are far from promising. When Kan took over as prime minister last June, one of his banner policies was the integrated reform of the tax and social security systems. This idea seems to have gone up in smoke. After a lot of huffing and compromise the Democratic Party of Japan did eventually submit a proposal for reform on June 30. Incredibly, this measure couldn’t even get cabinet approval, thanks to shamelessly populist objections from short-sighted politicians opposed to the idea of raising the consumption tax. The political irresponsibility of the situation is staggering.

In reality, the reforms need to target much more than just raising the consumption tax. The DPJ came to power on the back of a campaign that promised to “put people’s lives first.” They promised to look at social security benefits, to resolve the inequalities in society, and to build a sustainable social security system. Now the party has apparently got cold feet and no longer has the will to design a better system for people’s futures or fix the taxation system. It is time to throw in the towel and let someone else have a go. This year’s economic white paper needed to analyze the government’s policies and offer suggestions for change. But the days of well considered economic reports are apparently over. A report like this one, full of puffery about priorities for achieving consistency with medium-term fiscal policies, is bereft of significance.

Even before the March 11 disaster, Japan faced pressing issues regarding the state of its public finances and the sustainability of its social security system. It is now clear that Kan is quite incapable of responding to this moment of national crisis, as a politician and as prime minister. The sooner he steps down the better. Is it really asking too much to expect politicians to engage in serious debate about Japan’s economic policies and to have the guts and integrity to argue their case in good faith before the people? Our situation is dire indeed. We cannot allow this weak and ineffectual government to continue in office any longer. (Written on July 26, 2011.)

In This Series
An Economist’s View of the Disaster
A Fatal Lack of Urgency (July 26)
Japan’s Government of Fools: Enough is Enough (May 29)
Have the Current Generation Foot the Reconstruction Bill (May 8)
Japan Needs to Be on a “Wartime” Footing (April 22)
Four Priorities for Reconstruction (April 5)
Grasping the Nettle on Public Finance (March 23)

Nariai Osamu

Graduated from the University of Tokyo, where he majored in economics. Served in various posts at the former Economic Planning Agency and as a senior economist at the Institute for International Policy Studies. Is now a professor at Reitaku University. Also active as an independent economist. His works include Exploring the Japanese Economy.
 

The opening ceremony for the Fukushima National High School Cultural Festival was held on August 4 in the city of Aizuwakamatsu, Fukushima Prefecture. The lines above come from a play performed by the host students of Fukushima during the opening ceremony. It was one of the highlights of the occasion.

The National High School Cultural Festival takes place in a different prefecture every year, jointly sponsored by the Agency for Cultural Affairs and the All Japan Senior High School Cultural Federation. Following qualifying heats held all over the country, the festival brings together the winning teams for events in some 20 categories—from local folk performances and orchestral music to drama to photography. It is truly a celebration of the arts. This year’s festival, the 35th, had been scheduled to take place in Fukushima long before the tragic events of March 11. High school students throughout the prefecture had been looking forward to the events for years. Students had come up with a design for a mascot called Pêche-kun, based on the prefecture’s delicious peaches, and steady progress was being made on finding venues and arranging accommodation for the thousands of students expected from around the country.

Then, with less than five months to go to opening day, the massive earthquake and tsunami of March 11 wrecked everything. Students looked on in horror as their homes, families, and friends were swept away. Surely, everyone felt, the festival would never go ahead after this. For the students who had worked so hard on preparations for the festival, it was a cruel blow indeed. As the extent of the tsunami damage became clear, and as details began to emerge of the situation at the nuclear power station, the mood of pessimism only deepened. One regret after another came to them. The lines of the drama go on:

If I had known that I would lose people so suddenly, I would have done more to cherish them while they were still here.
I have made up my mind: From now on, I will cherish every moment, every person.

Despite everything, the students refused to give up hope. In late April, with reconstruction work underway, the cherry blossoms in bloom, and the nuclear crisis moving at long last toward resolution, Fukushima Governor Satō Yūhei decided that the festival should go ahead as planned. Students not just from Fukushima but from all over Japan were delighted to know that all the time they had spent preparing and practicing had not been in vain. Even so, with work progressing slowly to restore essential services, daily life had yet to return to normal. And many people were still missing. The students of Fukushima were unsure of themselves: Was going ahead with the festival really the right thing to do? And even more unexpected difficulties lay in wait. People started to avoid Fukushima. Overreacting to the situation, people—not just overseas but in other parts of Japan too—started to shun vegetables and beef from Fukushima, even though there was no evidence that products from the entire prefecture had been uniformly affected by radiation. This unexpected rejection left deep emotional scars on many students, as expressed in the following lines:

I feel sorry for people who jump to conclusions, led astray by prejudice and misleading information.
Even after what happened that day, the thousand-year-old cherry tree still blossoms, gentle and proud.
How can I learn to live like you?

Venues for events in eight of the categories had to be changed. Several of the original locations were inside the 30km evacuation zone around the nuclear power station, and others suffered damage in the quake. Finding alternative venues was not easy, as many of the municipal halls and gymnasiums in the prefecture are still being used as evacuation centers. Eventually, organizers decided to relocate two events outside Fukushima and hold the remaining 15 at a variety of locations within the prefecture. Naturally, careful steps were taken to monitor radioactivity levels at all the venues. Meanwhile, the students were learning important lessons:

For the first time I realize how precious the little moments of happiness are that I always took for granted.
From now on, the people of Japan must learn to think of others.

Besides those who suffered from the tsunami itself, many students were living in a state of suspension, stuck in evacuation centers or staying with relatives after being forced from their homes by the nuclear problem. Even those that hadn’t suffered directly often needed time away from rehearsals to care for friends and relatives. In spite of all their difficulties, the students continued to throw themselves into their preparations. After long months of hard work, the opening ceremony went off without a hitch on August 4.

Some 11,000 high school students, including 8,346 from outside the prefecture, gathered in Fukushima from all over the country. Their Imperial Highnesses Prince and Princess Akishino and their daughter Her Imperial Highness Princess Kako were also in attendance, spending a night in Aizuwakamatsu to take in choral performances and visit several venues, including a school for the handicapped. Naturally, they were received with great enthusiasm wherever they went. This gave students hope:

This is not the end; we will start again from scratch
Since that day, my ambitions have changed. Now I want to do something for Fukushima, the land that I love.

One of the things that made the drama so moving was that the students were addressing the audience in their own words. The script had not been written for the students by their teachers. The organizers had called for submissions from high school students who had been personally affected by the disaster, encouraging them to express their feelings in their own words. The script had been put together from these submissions.

Everyone in attendance was thrilled by how well the ceremony went. When the formalities were over, the governor and I made no effort to hide our delight. There was a tear in every eye. No one was in any doubt that the decision to go ahead with the festival had been the right one. Backstage, we passed on our congratulations to the local high school students who had been looking after us. “You’ve all done really well,” we told them. “Tell everyone how impressed we are.” One girl, who had been all smiles until then, suddenly began to cry. No doubt she was remembering all the hard work and sacrifices she and her friends had put in to get here, as well as the trials the people of Fukushima prefecture had gone through and the damage the disaster has done to Fukushima’s reputation nationwide and around the world. But it was not long before her smile returned. The earthquake and its aftermath have made people in this corner of the world remarkably strong.

The following lines from the drama moved everyone who heard them, and even provoked a sense of guilt in some:

Recently, I learned for the first time that the movie monster Godzilla was created by radiation.
But we are not Godzilla. We are just normal people, trying to live normal lives in our beloved Fukushima.
We have lost nearly everything. But hope remains.

(Written on August 5, 2011)

In This Series
Cultural Perspectives on Disaster and Recovery
We Are Not Godzilla! Japan’s High School Students Come Together in Fukushima (August 5)
Young People of the World, Come to Japan! (July 4)
Time for the Japanese to Tap Their Latent Strength (May 10)

Kondō Seiichi

Born in Kanagawa Prefecture in 1946. Joined the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in 1972. Served as director general of the Public Diplomacy Department, as ambassador to the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) from 2006 to 2008, and as ambassador to Denmark from 2008. Commissioner for Cultural Affairs since July 2010.

Now, this beautiful city lies buried under a mountain of charred rubble. The land itself appeared to have sunk during the earthquake: the closer I got to the shore, the stronger the stench of the sea became. Pools of stagnant seawater were everywhere. We headed south through the city, sharing the road with Self-Defense Forces vehicles that seemed to guide us through the wreckage. No street signs survived the devastation, of course, and the roads we took were often little more than barely passable clearings in the rubble that could be covered up by an aftershock at any time. A police officer we asked about road conditions snapped back at us impatiently: “Look, I have no idea what the road conditions are like in there. If you’re so set on going, just go!”

Kuyama Shiromasa, the photographer accompanying me, was stunned by what we were seeing. “I’ve never been in a disaster zone like this,” he kept muttering to himself. “No order. No restrictions.” Even so, this urban zone was far from the worst of the disaster-stricken areas. Here, at least a few neighborhoods had been indicated as no-go zones. In the countryside, where even before March 11 the unpaved roads were barely wide enough for a single car to pass, there was almost no guidance at all.

Based on map created by the Geospatial Information Authority of Japan.

Southward on the “Lifeline Roads”

Even local residents had lost their sense of the road network. An elderly couple in a small truck pleaded with us: “We’re trying to get to [a location in town]. Can you show us how to get there?” It was heartbreaking to see the wretched state these people were in. All the local knowledge, geographic awareness, and confidence they had built up over a lifetime in this community had been washed away in an instant on March 11.

Immediately after the quake, the city’s road network was in utter ruins. Streets shattered by the shaking were hammered by the tsunami and the flood of buildings, ships, and other supposedly immovable objects that followed. The roads were scraped from their very foundations. By late April, though, when we arrived, most of the wreckage had been cleared. Places where the roads had collapsed had been shored up with dirt and bridges washed away in the waves had been replaced with temporary spans. For the people of Kesennuma, these makeshift roads were literally lifelines.

We headed south as far as the Tokura district in the town of Minami Sanriku, where National Route 45 leaves the coast and heads inland. There we bid farewell to the old couple and headed southeast along the coastal road, National Route 398. Along this stretch of the coast the road is relatively high up on the seaside hills, and we could see little tsunami damage. But the road surface bore the scars of the quake: cracks tracing the centerline between lanes, potholes, and jarring vertical displacements.

We made it as far as the Shin Kitakami Bridge, which spans the Kitakami River near where it empties into the sea. The bridge was in no shape to be crossed, though, having lost many of its piers and crossbeams. At the southeast end of the bridge lies Ōkawa Elementary, the Ishinomaki municipal school where many children lost their lives in the disaster. It was as though time had stood still. We could still make out clear signs of the frenzied search that had taken place for survivors—another bleak reminder of the terrible tragedy that had befallen this place.

We decided to head upstream to the Iinokawa Bridge, the next chance to ford the river, and then return downstream to Route 398. The hastily constructed temporary roads that ran along and on top of the riverside dyke were little more than a series of metal plates thrown onto the ground. It looked as though the slightest rain might be enough to submerge everything again.

Based on map created by the Geospatial Information Authority of Japan.

Overwhelming Damage

At last we crossed the river and entered the city of Ishinomaki. We were confronted with dust, with rubble, with the stench of rotting things. The sheer size of the objects that had been shattered by the quake and waves bore testament to the scale of the blow dealt to the region. The number of relief vehicles and people involved in recovery efforts was overpowering. A soccer field on the outskirts of town had been turned into a burial ground for the victims of March 11, its turf stripped away and orderly rows of rectangular holes just big enough for caskets dug into its soil. Some of the graves were already covered with earth and flowers, but many more remained open, awaiting their coffins. It was unbearable to see.

South of Ishinomaki, the terrain of the coastline gradually changes, with broad open plains taking the place of the rugged cliffs and inlets of the north. As our field of view opened up, we got a clearer look at the damage the waves had caused as they surged inland. Of all the places we had passed through on our journey here from Rikuzentakata in Iwate Prefecture, no two towns or roads had been affected in exactly the same way. Every time we moved, the scenery changed and the damage was slightly different. The pain and suffering of the people who live here must vary from person to person in the same way, I thought.

Based on map created by the Geospatial Information Authority of Japan.

A Scenic Town Facing New Problems

Heading southwest from Ishinomaki we came to Matsushima. The town had been protected from the tsunami to some extent by the famous islands at the mouth of its bay. The damage here seemed somewhat less than what we had witnessed in other places along the coast. The residents were hard at work getting their shopping districts up and running and relaunching the tourist ferries that take visitors out to see the beautiful islands of Matsushima—one of the celebrated “three views of Japan.” The sight of these people striving to rebuild regular lives and the unchanged beauty of the pine-covered islands provided a welcome respite from the bleak vistas we had seen so far.

But the people here were voicing worries we had not heard until now. As one tourist operator put it: “After the nuclear disaster, are people down south really going to travel through Fukushima to reach us here?” Here was a new form of anguish for the residents of Tōhoku to grapple with. (Written on May 9, 2011)

In This Series
250km Journey Across Tōhoku—From Sanriku to Minamisōma
Viewing the Tsunami’s Tragic Aftermath (2)
Viewing the Tsunami’s Tragic Aftermath (1)

Hirose Tatsuya

Born in Kumamoto Prefecture in 1954. Has worked as a freelance editor since his time as an undergraduate at Asia University, writing for a wide range of publications on motorcycles and automobiles, outdoor activities, and travel. Also has experience in competitive racing, having entered such events as the Baja 1000 in Mexico and Rally Mongolia. Published works include Bōken Nippon (Adventure Japan) and Zekkei Nihon no tabi (Journeys Through Scenic Japan).

Across the battle lines, politicians struggle to grapple with the public’s dramatic shift in consciousness. Amid the soul-searching, Liberal Democratic Party Secretary General Ishihara Nobuteru drew flak recently for characterizing Italian voters’ rejection of nuclear power as “mass hysteria,” much to the indignation of many Japanese. (“Hysterical? Look who’s talking,” one blogger shot back.)

But if not mass hysteria, what exactly has happened?

IT blogger Nakajima Satoshi provides one answer in a July 18 article posted in response to a reader comment. A former supporter of nuclear power himself, Nakajima describes the series of realizations that brought him to change his views:

“The first thing I thought when I heard the initial reports that there had been an accident at Fukushima Daiichi was how this would negatively impact the development of nuclear technology, not just in Japan but around the world,” he explains. “To change the course of Japan’s energy policy and suddenly stop using nuclear power, just because of an accident that would ordinarily happen only once in a thousand years, would, I felt, be a mistake.”

Intending to write an article to appease the concerns of the “hysterical” antinuclear crowd, Nakajima began researching the science and economics of nuclear power in Japan. In the end, though, his research led him to question his own assumptions about everything from the mechanics of nuclear fission to the hidden interests involved in Japan’s national energy policy.

“What happened on March 11, 2011, was not a once-in-a-million-year accident,” he concludes. “It was an accident that was bound to happen, and did.”

The fact that Nakajima came to this conclusion will certainly please the antinuclear crowd. Indeed, in a follow-up post Nakajima reports being contacted by—and eventually meeting with—none other than Japan’s prime minister, Kan Naoto, among the most visible critics of nuclear power. But his post also drew vocal criticism, notably from economist and blogger Ikeda Nobuo, who dismissed Nakajima and other critics of nuclear power as “amateurs.”

More interesting than Nakajima’s writing itself, though, is the way in which his blog created a space for discussion in a part of the net known for its mob-like tendencies. Unlike most such spaces, Nakajima’s blog does not shy away from sensitive topics.

Responding to Nakajima’s claim that business interests took precedence over safety concerns, for example, one commenter writes:

“One of the triggers for these unbelievable actions were the arguments of (some in) the antinuclear crowd, which were just as unbelievable. One side makes noise, and the other side has to make even more noise. This is also a part of the problem.”

As this comment makes clear, the challenges Japan faces with its energy policy are as much social as they are technological. Nakajima has set a precedent for others to follow in putting his ideas out for debate—and defending them, as he has done in follow-up articles. Those in Nagatachō could learn a thing or two. (Written on July 27, 2011.)

In This Series
The social media view of Japan
Finding a New Middle Ground (July 27)
A Crisis Told in Stories (May 1)
Pointing the Finger (April 14)

Chris Salzberg

Born in 1976 in Montreal. Tokyo-based writer, translator, and aspiring web tools developer with a background in physics and math and a fascination with Japanese Internet culture. Between 2007 and 2009, covered the Japanese blogosphere as an editor for Global Voices Online, a global citizen media project. Can be reached on Twitter as @shioyama.

In response to the unprecedented disaster, local governments and residents have joined forces and are working tirelessly to rebuild their communities. But in many cases adults have ended up overlooking the specific needs of children. For example, children at evacuation centers have been told to behave themselves and keep quiet, which has prevented them from enjoying their usual noisy play with friends. For children in the disaster areas to get their lives back to normal, one crucial need is to secure enough space for them to play in a carefree way, even at evacuation centers.

This need to secure adequate space remains important even now that the focus has shifted from relief to the recovery effort. Many of the temporary housing units that are quickly being erected have been placed in parks or schools’ athletic fields. Unless space to play is provided at these housing areas, children will increasingly find themselves marginalized.

A Strong Desire to Get Involved

The reason that children in the disaster areas want to participate in the recovery effort, it seems to me, is that they are acutely aware that they will be overlooked unless they get involved. In one of the responses to our questionnaire, a seventh-grade girl expressed this feeling in the following way: “I’d like grown-ups to also listen to what we kids have to say, instead of just deciding everything by themselves.”

For the region as a whole, it also makes sense to have children play an active role in the recovery. People who are likely to fall into despair after losing family members and friends, or seeing the livelihoods they had built up over the years destroyed, will certainly be able to gain some solace from the sight of children—the future community leaders—lending a hand in the rebuilding work. In his questionnaire response, another seventh grader expressed a willingness to help: “I think adults have a lot of hard things to do now, so I’d like to see us kids using our energy to help out people in the community.”

When it comes to rebuilding communities in the disaster areas, the focus should not only be on returning municipalities to the way they used to be. Another aim must be to build communities where children can feel secure and happy. This is important because a child-friendly community is one that is amenable to everyone else, too.

Sadamatsu Eiichi

Chief operating officer and program director of the NGO Save the Children Japan. First became involved in overseas charity work to assist drought sufferers in Africa. Later spent a total of 11 years in Nepal, where he was involved in developing its educational sector. Assumed his current position in February 2009. 

3/11: The Catastrophe That Broke Through the Impasse

The idea that change is necessary is in itself nothing new. Following the publication of the Club of Rome’s Limits to Growth study in 1972, the late twentieth century saw repeated proposals calling for a shift away from materialism and excessive dependence on economic growth. But in reality, nothing changed. To this day, our fixation with improving the material prosperity of our daily lives continues to cause conflicts over resources, escalating oil prices, and instability in financial markets.

Why has change proved so elusive? The reason is that everywhere you look around the globe politics, the financial world, and academia are still dominated on all levels by the same individuals and organizations who built the systems in the first place and therefore have a vested interest in their survival. Such people are not in a position to change anything, even though they may understand intellectually that things cannot continue the way they are. Citizens in prosperous societies have a vested interest in ensuring the survival of the system that guarantees their own prosperity. This makes it extremely unlikely that such societies will produce idealistic leaders with the strength and determination to shatter the mold and bring about meaningful change. People look out egotistically for their own interests, and as a result everyone ends up losing. Call it the irony of democracy.

It took a disaster on this scale to break through the impasse and resolve the conflict between ideals and reality. Images of the devastating tsunami served as a violent wakeup call. People realized: “Something is wrong. We can’t go on like this.” There have been major disasters in the past, of course—the Kobe earthquake of 1995 and the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, to name just two—but in the end neither of these events led to major change. This time is different, for two main reasons.

The first is the behavior of people in the disaster areas, which has demonstrated beyond any doubt that the interests of the whole community are best served when people transcend their own egos and work to help each other. The second reason is the undeniable reality of the electricity situation. The nuclear crisis in Fukushima has led to a serious shortfall in the electricity supply. People in Tokyo and surrounding areas were faced with a stark choice: make far-reaching changes to their lifestyles or risk the possibility that the city would fail to get through the peak period of demand for electricity this summer. The result of this realization was not an exodus from Tokyo but a mass movement to conserve electricity and switch to more energy-efficient appliances.

Individuals and Companies Take the Initiative

The promptest responses to this new tendency have come not from the government or academia but from individuals and companies. Companies have increased the volume of LEDs they are producing, are working to develop and boost the production of high-performance batteries for electric cars, and are making progress with new technology and facilities for solar and wind power. Many of these measures have been technically possible for some time but until recently were regarded as unfeasible for economic reasons. Vast amounts of financial and human capital are being poured into these areas today, with valuable support from Japan’s cutting-edge technology. There is talk of inviting international artists to come and live in Japan to lend their flair and sensibility as the country builds a new future. The idea is to combine the strengths of Japan’s technological expertise with refined culture from Japan and around the world.

This time, I believe, we will see true change. Young people of the world—come and share in this exciting moment of transformation! I exhort students, young academics, and artists from around the world to come to Japan and share in this historic moment. Do not allow overreactions to the situation in Fukushima put you off. Japan needs your talents and wisdom. On June 25, the Reconstruction Design Council submitted a report to Prime Minister Kan with the title “Towards Reconstruction: Hope beyond the Disaster.” One of key ideas of the report is that reconstruction should be open and international in character (see chapter four, “Open Reconstruction”). (Written on July 4, 2011.)

In This Series
Cultural Perspectives on Disaster and Recovery
We Are Not Godzilla! Japan’s High School Students Come Together in Fukushima (August 5)
Young People of the World, Come to Japan! (July 4)
Time for the Japanese to Tap Their Latent Strength (May 10)

Kondō Seiichi

Born in Kanagawa Prefecture in 1946. Joined the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in 1972. Served as director general of the Public Diplomacy Department, as ambassador to the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) from 2006 to 2008, and as ambassador to Denmark from 2008. Commissioner for Cultural Affairs since July 2010.

Recently I visited a number of junior and senior high schools in the disaster areas of Iwate and Miyagi Prefectures. My visit took place in June, when the focus of people’s priorities was starting to shift from emergency relief to reconstruction. Thanks to the dedicated efforts of over 100,000 Self-Defense Force personnel, remarkable progress had been made in removing the debris and rubble left behind by the disaster. Most of the region’s key lifelines—roads, railways, water, and gas—had been restored. The medical situation was also much better than it had been in the early days of the disaster. Nevertheless, in what had once been the downtown areas of coastal towns, there was nothing but a flattened wasteland. The devastation stretched as far as the eye could see, in scenes reminiscent of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945, or Tokyo after the firebombing earlier that year. In spite of the difficult conditions, the region’s schools have made up for school days lost after the disaster by holding classes on holidays and shortening their summer vacations to ensure that students receive the necessary amount of classroom hours. I have the deepest respect for the dedication and hard work of the teachers and their students.

Lending Brass Bands a Hand

Ruined musical instruments in a flooded rehearsal room (photo courtesy of Iwate Prefectural Takata Senior High School)

Watanoha Junior High School in Miyagi Prefecture was completely swept away by the tsunami. After the disaster, students were divided up by grade (there were only three grades in the school) and sent to live in buildings belonging to three nearby schools. Their principal visits the evacuated students on a daily basis to supervise their studies and oversee teaching staff. In Iwate Prefecture, students of Kamaishi Higashi Junior High School lodged at Kamaishi Junior High School, where the gymnasium was turned into an evacuation center. The two schools decided to combine a number of their club activities. One result of this decision was the creation of a joint brass band that is now preparing to take part in music competitions.

One of my reasons for visiting the disaster areas was to help revive the brass bands at eight schools damaged by the earthquake and tsunami. It was my pleasure to present them with a donation of ¥35 million (approx. $400,000) worth of musical instruments. Our hope is that these areas will resound to the sound of music again as soon as possible. The instruments were paid for by funds raised through a May 20 charity concert held in Tokyo and through contributions from individuals and companies.

Trumpeting French-Japanese Relations

Japanese and French trumpeters during practice at Beauvais Cathedral (photo courtesy of Fukiura Tadamasa)

On June 18, a group of 25 Japanese trumpet enthusiasts, ranging in age from 13 to 79, performed a concert with 85 French musicians at Beauvais Cathedral, 80km north of Paris, under the direction of trumpet virtuoso Eric Aubier and Sugiki Mineo, a professor at Tokyo University of the Arts. The concert raised ¥160,000 (approx. €1,300) in donations—opening a new page for amicable Japanese-French relations. The plan is that trumpets purchased with these funds, along with a matching donation, will be signed by Aubier and Sugiki and presented to Miyagi Prefectural Kōbun Kan Senior High School in the city of Ishinomaki. The school’s brass band will give a performance using these instruments at an August 5 concert in Sendai hosted by the “social welfare foundation” Support 21 (of which I am chairman). We have invited people throughout the disaster areas to attend the concert, which will include performances by Aubier and the Sendai Philharmonic Orchestra.

August Trip to Russia

Three of the eight recipient schools are also sending members of their brass bands to Russia, where 33 students are scheduled to participate in a Japan-Russia youth exchange project in Vladivostok on August 18. The Japanese students will spend just over a week living with their Russian counterparts, playing music and sports together and taking part other activities. The idea for the exchange was suggested by the wife of Russian President Dimitry Medvedev when she visited the Japanese Embassy in Moscow to express her condolences following the March 11 disaster. I hope that this trip to Russia—along with the gift of musical instruments—will prove a source of hope and joy to children in the disaster areas.

Although contentious issues remain to be resolved between Japan and Russia on a diplomatic level, surely no one could object to this effort to promote mutual understanding and cooperation between the next generation of young people. I hope that these efforts to promote friendly relations between the two countries will provide some solace and hope for the children’s parents as well.

The cold autumn days arrive early in northern Japan, where people are still struggling to cope with the aftermath of the disaster in their daily lives. But what better remedy could there be for the spirits of people in these devastated communities than the sight of their children throwing themselves energetically into their studies and pursuing their interests in sports and music again? (Written on July 4, 2011.)

In This Series
An International Aid Specialist’s View of Japan
Instrumental Support for School Bands (July 4)
Showing our Gratitude to Taiwan (June 3)
Thoughts on International Support (May 9)
Japan as Seen Through Relief and Reconstruction Efforts (March 29)

Fukiura Tadamasa

Completed his doctoral studies in political science at Waseda University. Has been a professor at Saitama Prefectural University, vice president of the Association for Aid and Relief, Japan, and executive director for research at the Tokyo Foundation. Is now president of the Eurasia 21 Research Institute. Author of Kokki de yomu sekai chizu (Reading the World Map Through National Flags), NGO kaigai borantia nyūmon (An Introduction to NGO Volunteer Activities Overseas), and other works.

Delivering a Message from Fukushima

“Let’s join with the people of Fukushima in thinking about how to interpret what’s happening there now and how to confront this reality squarely.” This was the appeal that went out to invite people to form an executive committee for the festival. The committee is co-headed by Wagō Ryōichi, a poet living in the city of Fukushima, the musician Endō Michirō, who was born and raised in the neighboring city of Nihonmatsu, and me.

Since the March 11 earthquake, Wagō-san has been posting a series of poems on Twitter under the title “Shi no tsubute” (Pebbles of Poetry). These have attracted a major response. Endō-san is a famous musician; he was the founder and vocalist of the legendary punk rock band The Stalin (1980–85). I was born in Yokohama, but my family moved to Fukushima because of my father’s job when I was in third grade, and I lived there for 10 years until I went away to college. My parents still live there today.

The three of us formed “Project Fukushima!” to serve as the organizational base for our activities and planned Festival Fukushima! in the hope of using “culture power” to break out of the grim status quo. But after visiting the city a number of times and seeing how atrocious the conditions were, I realized that this sort of woolly thinking wasn’t going to be enough.

Help from an Expert Scientist

I embarked on an all-out search for information about radioactive contamination. But the information I found about the impact of the nuclear accident was inconsistent, and I was confounded by the differences between what the government was saying and the flood of information on the Internet. I didn’t know what to believe. If we were serious about carrying out a project in Fukushima, I thought, we were going to need support from an expert on radiation. But I had no idea who I could trust.

Then I saw a program on NHK (Japan Broadcasting Corporation) about a collaborative effort to map the contamination caused by the accident at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station. The program introduced Kimura Shinzō, a scientist specializing in radiation hygiene. Kimura-san is an expert on the effects of radiation on human beings; he formerly worked at the National Institute of Radiological Sciences, where he was on the research team for the Tōkaimura nuclear accident (1999). After being transferred to a research center at the Ministry of Health, Labor, and Welfare, he visited Chernobyl to conduct his own research on the nuclear accident there. He handed in his resignation earlier this year when he was ordered not to undertake independent research into radiation levels after the Fukushima Daiichi accident. Seeing his story as presented on this program, I felt that this was someone whose words I could trust.

I was able to meet Kimura-san through the intermediation of an NHK director participating in Project Fukushima! After listening to our concerns, he went to the site to check the radiation levels. The news was good. He said that we could and should hold the festival at the Village of Four Seasons. As he put it, the disaster victims shouldn’t just practice gaman, gritting their teeth and enduring their troubles; they need to get out and get going. “That’s what we specialists are here for,” he said. His words brought tears to my eyes.

What he was proposing was not that we should go ahead with the festival regardless of the risks but that we should work together based on the scientific data to conduct relief activities in Fukushima into the future. As he pointed out, the effects of radiation do not disappear after a year or two; they can continue for decades or even centuries. He suggested using the upcoming festival as a forum for presenting the issues involved. The sincere advice he offered as a scientist was absolutely crucial for our project. Without it, we might never have made it to the starting line.

It’s Not Just About Fukushima

My biggest concern at this point is to deal with the crisis at hand. Specifically, I want to find a way of limiting the impact on people living in areas where no evacuation advisory has been issued even though the soil has become seriously contaminated. I want to see the radiation levels measured and appropriate steps taken without delay. Moving away from the area may be the best answer, but it’s not easy for people to leave their homes. The country as a whole needs to act with urgency to find ways of minimizing the impact on those who are unable to move and to stop the radioactive contamination from spreading any further.

The biggest problem for the future is internal radiation exposure caused by cesium entering the body through food and other sources. I sincerely hope it will be possible to stop this sort of exposure before it is too late. The top priority is to make sure that food products with radiation levels exceeding government standards are not sold or eaten. This will require each of us to acquire accurate information and knowledge about radioactive contamination and measures to deal with it, along with rigorous action by the national government and other public authorities. It is still not too late—provided we start addressing the issue seriously now.

I’m neither a scientist nor a politician, so there’s a limit to what I can do about measures to deal with the situation. But I do feel a sense of responsibility to spread the word about the terrible state of affairs in Fukushima. We’re hoping that nearly 10,000 people will attend the festival on August 15. I am sure that as soon as people decide to come, their thinking will change on all kinds of questions. Is it safe to travel to Fukushima? What are the biggest problems facing the prefecture now? What they can do to help? I want people to think about questions like these as issues that concern them too.

I intend to keep Project Fukushima! going based on a perspective that spans several decades. The upcoming festival is just a starting point. I hope that the Festival Fukushima! message will go forth simultaneously from many locations around the world. The issues we face are not just about Fukushima in Japan. This nuclear accident involves more than just the question of how to find energy sources for the future. It requires us to look at the structure we have built for our lives and reconsider it from its very foundations.

Project Fukushima! is involved in more than organizing the upcoming festival. Among our other activities, first I would mention Dommune Fukushima! We launched this on May 8 in cooperation with Dommune, a Tokyo-based Internet streaming channel with a tremendous global following, to serve as an independent medium for Fukushima to make itself heard around the world. It delivers a combination of live music and serious talk programs, and we intend to keep it going after the festival to transmit Fukushima’s voices to the world.

We are also organizing School Fukushima! as a forum for considering how to deal with the terrible situation that Fukushima faces. We plan to keep this going over the long term as well, inviting participants from Japan and other countries.

I hope that anyone interested in supporting Project Fukushima! will get in touch. Wherever in the world you happen to come from, and whatever form your participation may take, I hope you will help us to make “Fukushima” a positive word. (From the transcript of an interview conducted on June 26, 2011.)

Ōtomo Yoshihide

A musician active in a wide range of genres, from noise-heavy, high-volume works to jazz, song-based compositions, and film music. Frequently performs overseas, where he is known as one of “Japan’s two Ōtomos” (the other being Ōtomo Katsuhiro, creator of the manga Akira).
 

Project Fukushima! website
http://www.pj-fukushima.jp