Saturday, March 30, 2013
Friday, March 29, 2013
Sunday, March 17, 2013
The Darkness in the Forest: Themes of the Films of Miyazaki Hayao
“I was determined not to create a manga that
people would read while they were eating soba noodles.” (In reference to Nausicaa, Valley of the Wind, Miyazaki quoted in Schodt, 1996, 278)
In my first year
of teaching, I had four classes of Year 8s (and one of Year 7) in an outer
suburban, high migrant high school. Having
struggled most of the year, with high spirited students who generally had a low
commitment to learning a language (Japanese) to which most of them had little
affinity, there were finally a couple of periods in that first year, where I
really grabbed the students’ attention.
Those periods were when I showed them the animated movie, My Neighbour Totoro or Tonari no Totoro (1988). More than I could manage with my albeit
earnest teaching, this movie, directed by Miyazaki Hayao was able to transport
these students to Japan, telling them a simple story of childhood, to which
they could relate. At the same time,
this story introduced the students to an idea of spirituality and
imaginativeness, in a context of a rich natural world, to be enjoyed. After seeing this movie, my world was also
enlarged, as I gradually managed to see and admire more and more Miyazaki
classics and made sure when a new one came out, that I saw it as well.
Animator and
director, Miyazaki Hayao was born in 1941. Japan was occupied by the United States four
years later in 1945. He grew up with
three brothers and a mother who had a long term illness. Miyazaki graduated in 1963 from Gakushuuin
University’s Department of Politics and Economics, having been a member of a
children’s literature study group (Schodtt, 1996). After graduation, Miyazaki
joined Toei Animation, and started drawing Wanwan Chushingura, until the end of
1979, when he directed The Castle of
Cagliostro (Miyazaki, 1984). In this
essay, I will briefly discuss Miyazaki’s upbringing and career and then will
attempt to delineate four themes which emerge in his compositions. These themes are Environmentalism, Shintoism
and spirituality, Japanese cultural distinctives and lastly ‘the
joy of flight’. I could have chosen a few other themes, such as feminism, but
for the sake of this essay, I have reduced my scope to these four areas.
According to Schodt (1996), Miyazaki’s drawing
is reminiscent of French comics, bringing to mind French master Jean “Moebius”
Giraud. Often, Miyazaki’s anime have portrayed
medieval Europe, or sometimes central Asia, reflecting his wide reading of
Western literature. The
protagonist, Nausicaä, of Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984)
is so-named after the woman in Homer’s Odyssey who saved the shipwrecked Ulysses,
although there are also traces in this animation of Old and New Testament
themes and ancient Greek and Norse myths (Schodt, 1996).
The genres of Hayao
Miyazaki usually include science fictional elements and are often interwoven
with other genres, as evidenced in Nausicaä and Howl’s Moving Castle (2004), such
as fantasy, comedy and romance (Cavallaro,
2006). Cavallaro states that one of the
stand-out traits of Miyazaki is the ability to ensure that his
characters are thoroughly individuated and distinct. Bertha (Kiki’s
Delivery Service, 1989), Old Sophie (Howl’s
Moving Castle) or Uncle Pom (Laputa,
Castle in the sky, 1986) would never be confused, despite the fact that all
are elderly characters with apparent affinities.
The first most
obvious theme, however, in Miyazaki’s animations has been one of treasuring the
environment.
Environmentalism
‘[When walking
in Shakujii park, near Toei Studios]…I thought the trees were so
beautiful. I also realized that Japan is
beautiful when there are no people around. Japan became ugly because its
population grew…’
-Miyazaki
interviewed by Hiroaki Ikeda, Roman Album, My
Neighbour Totoro, June 3, 1988, (in Cary and Schodt, 2009, 357).
‘…for me the
deep forest is connected in some way to the darkness deep in my heart. I feel that if it is erased, then the
darkness inside my heart would also disappear and my existence would grow
shallow.’ (Miyazaki
quoted in Cary and Schodt, 2009, 360).
Miyazaki’s environmental concern is about much more
than a sense of necessity, or to enable humans to survive. Rather, it grows out of his other main theme,
namely spirituality or relatedness to the world. When he speaks of ‘darkness’ in his heart in
the quote above, this is not darkness or evil in a classic Greco-Western sense,
but rather a sense of spirituality. For
the gods/the divine are found in darkness. A Shinto ethic considers the environment a
living collection of interconnected beings worthy of respect (Odell and Le
Blanc, 2009).
The afore-mentioned Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, which symbolised Miyazaki’s
break through into the animation world, is
at heart an environmentally themed movie.
This film shows consequences of global pollution and groups of people
who are not taking responsibility for the environment. It opens as follows:
1000 years have
passed since Earth succumbed to pollution generated by the very nations we now
inhabit. Most of the Earth is covered by
the highly toxic Sea of Corruption. (Odell and Le Blanc,
2009, 57).
The environment and the giant insects portrayed here,
bring to mind Frank Herbert’s Dune (Schodtt,
1996). The two protagonists in this
movie, Nausicaä and Kushana are both aiming to rid the world of the toxicity
present in the environment. However,
they have alternative approaches.
Nausicaä seeks the answer by studying, learning about the environment
and being a part of it, while Kushana is aiming to obliterate the toxic waste
and all that represents it (Odell and Le Blanc, 2009).
Unsurprisingly, Japanese culture also appears in
Nausicaä in understories, myths and esoteric Buddhist themes (Schodt, 278,
1996). Originally, Nausicaä was
developed by Miyazaki as a manga, or comic strip.
Miyazaki did
not initially intend or believe that this manga
would be animated, but in 1983, he was offered the opportunity anddirected
the film and made Nausicaä so detailed and dense that the artwork was similar
to an engraving. It was a complex story of the likes that few anime or manga
had previously achieved. Miyazaki was
very aware that in Nausicaä he aimed to produce a film which would not reflect
a clear, logical development, but might rather ‘impart a vastness that we might not fully understand…’ (Miyazaki
quoted in Cary and Schodt, 2009, 337). The box office success of Nausicaä, in March 1984, resulted in the formation of Miyazaki’s
animation company, Studio Ghibli.
Nausicaä
was set in the Muromachi era of Japan
(1392-1573) and depicted a struggle between nature (gods of the dark forest)
and humans, cutting down the forest for fuel.
The end of this movie was a standoff, instead of a happy ending. There are references in Nausicaä to nuclear holocaust, alternative energy and wind power,
linking to the fears of modern Japan (Schodt, 1996).
Some of the themes Miyazaki has worked with include
reminders of our interconnections to the earth and with each other, reminders
that greed and materialism defeat us (Callis, 2010). Anyone who has watched Spirited Away (2001), is drawn into a Japanese inspired world of
spirits and gods. This is a mystical
rendering of a story said to be a Japanese “Alice in Wonderland”.
My Neighbour
Totoro also draws on respect for the environment leading to
harmony and reward. Grave of the Fireflies (also 1988), shows the impact of war on the environment. There are signs of environmental decline in
some of Miyazaki’s films, including Pom
Poko (1994) and the recent film Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea (2008). Odell
and Le Blanc (2009) note some conflicts or cross purposes, however, in Ghibli
films. For example, in Laputa: Castle in
the Sky, the mining village is seen as good because of its community work
ethic, when the residents are actually evidently stealing from nature. Nausicaä is an environmentalist, who uses a
flying machine to get around. In Princess Mononoke (1997), the women
working at the factory are viewed as good community workers, although they are
producing weapons and iron that put them in conflict with the forest and nature
(Odell and Le Blanc, 2009).
Shintoism and spirituality
I
didn’t intend to make her a Joan of Arc and I wanted to get rid of any
religious undertone. But in the end it
became a religious picture with that scene [after Nausicaa dies and is held up by
the ohmu] … I do like animism. I can
understand the idea of ascribing character to stones or wind. But I didn’t want to laud it as a religion. That is why Nausicaa isn’t Joan of Arc.
-Miyazaki
Hayao, “Nature is both Generous and Ferocious”, Roman Album, Nausicaa Valley of the Wind, Tokuma
Shoten, May 1, 1984, in Carey and Schodt, 2009.
Miyazaki’s thoughts on
the character of Nausicaä above show an effort to avoid particular religious
intentions, although he also can see that it is hard to avoid. Japanese mythology and spirituality is
nonetheless an important theme in Miyazaki’s films, indicated by customs and
culture referred to within the animations.
For example, kami spirits in Priness Mononoke and obake spirits in Pom
Poko. There are metamorphic kitsune and tanuki (Foxes and badgers) (Odell and Le Blanc, 2009).
The heroine in Nausicaä,
despite the Homerian name, was inspired by Japanese mythology, in a tale from
the Heian period (AD 794-1185), about a strange insect loving princess (Schodt,
1996). She is a ‘princess who loved
insects and …after coming of age, delighting in watching such things as
caterpillars metamorphosing into butterflies…According to the stories, at a
time when most girls like her would have shaved off their eyebrows and stained
their teeth black, she kept her teeth white and her eyebrows black and looked
terribly odd.” (Miyazaki, 1982).
In the context of this
spirituality and as noted above, Miyazaki dislikes the Western dichotomy of
light versus dark. This is a simplistic
discussion, believes Miyazaki. Rather,
the gods are in the darkness, usually in the forest or mountains. Therefore, the Japanese venerate certain
forests and natural objects, and consider many places to be off limits and
sacred.
A sense of what is
Japanese has also driven Miyazaki, despite his frequent compositions on
non-Japanese topics.
Japanese
distinctiveness (日本人論 nihonjinron)
Whilst the above term
might be taken within Japan to be a very nationalistic sentiment, Miyazaki has
actually through his work reclaimed this as something different. Miyazaki relates how he gradually came to
realise Japanese culture was not actually closed and isolated, but was actually
related in various ways, for example to the Bhutanese and Nepalese who like
fluffy, sticky rice, as well as related to other places with broadleaf,
evergreen forest. In opposition to the
idea of nihonjinron, or in a new
definition, his work has shown an essential human condition and diversity.
‘My
culture went far beyond the idiotic Japanese who started the war, beyond
Hideyoshi Toyotomi who invaded Korea, and beyond The Tale of Genji that I
detested.’ (Interview, June 3, 1988 with
Hiroaki Ikeda in Cary and Schodt, 2009, 358).
Miyazaki deliberately
made a very Japanese movie, in Tonari no
totoro, or My Neighbour, Totoro. This movie included a combination of
locations including Sakuragaoka, Kandagawa River where he grew up and the
landscape of Tokorozawa where he currently lives (Carey and Schodt, 2009,
350). Miyazaki says that the totoro creatures in the movie are
‘goblins of the transitional phase when Japan hadn’t become entirely
modernized’. (Carey and Schodt, 2009,
355). This movie considers modernisation
but also harks back to an earlier time in Japan in its depiction of a rural
hamlet. Some have said that this movie
is encouraging nostalgia, but Miyazaki was emphatic that this was not the
aim. ‘…I didn’t make this film out of
personal nostalgia for that time’ (Carey and Schodt, 2009, 355). At the same time, he was not interested in
returning to the ghosts and spirits of old mythology, such as Shigeru Mizuki, a
manga author known for tales of horror and ghosts. He imagined that a cat goblin turned into a
bus, making the cat-bus. This cat-bus
from My Neighbour Totoro, is, today,
a well known symbol of Miyazaki’s, holding pride of place in the Ghibli Museum
in Tokyo, an enormous soft toy for children to scramble over. Miyazaki in this
way transformed old goblin symbols into a modern but still Japanese
mythological ideas. Miyazaki made the film, aiming to encourage a spirit of
playfulness, hoping that children would be encouraged to look ‘under their
houses and to look in the thickets behind shrines’. Perhaps it is also this playfulness which
instigated the final theme as an ongoing part of Miyazaki’s work.
The
joy of flight
Miyazaki: “I personally find airplanes cool and I love
flying scenes.” (Cary and Schodt,
2009, 341)
Flying is the final
theme which I will briefly explore by reference to Miyazaki Hayao’s films. This flying obsession perhaps started as a
child. Miyazaki’s father worked at Miyazaki Airplane and Hayao began to develop
a love for flying machines (Odell and Le Blanc, 2009). He drew what he saw but also imagined new
forms of aviation. As a result, flying
machines are found in Conan, the Boy in
Future (1978), The Castle of
Cagliostro and in Laputa: Castle in
the Sky. Also, Howl’s Moving Castle, Kiki’s
Delivery Service, Totoro, The Cat Returns (2002), Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, Tales from Earthsea (2006) and Spirited
Away. To take one example, in Majo no takyubin, or Kiki’s delivery servi, Kiki, the 13 year
old protagonist, has a special skill, the ability to fly through the air.
The four areas briefly
introduced from Miyazaki’s oeuvre of work are of course, interwoven and
undoubtedly interpreted variously.
Miyazaki himself has noted that it was not until his thirty’s that he
developed an environmental appreciation and awareness and presumably his
emphases and ideas have developed and changed as well. He has a sense that concern for the
environment is only appropriate springing from a transcendence of the earth. His interests in children’s literature and
wide reading of Western classics have informed his portrayal of Japanese and
other subjects, and enabled a fine portrayal of the human condition, which has
been appreciated around the world. At
the same time, his sense of the child’s perspective and playfulness expressed
in flying machines have metaphorically enabled his detailed animations to not
only take off but soar.
Bibliography
Callis, Cari, ‘Nothing that happens is
ever forgotten’, in Josef Steiff and Tristan Tamplin, (2010) Anime and Philosophy: Wide eyed wonder,
Chicago, Carus Publishing Company.
Cavallaro,
Dani, (2006) The Anime Art of Hayao
Miyazaki, Jefferson, North Carolina, McFarland and Company Inc.,
Publishers.
Hairston, Marc, ‘The Reluctant Messiah: Miyazaki Hayao’s Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind Manga’,
173-184, in Toni Johnson-Woods (ed), (2010) Manga:
An Anthology of Global and Cultural Perspectives, New York, The Continuum
International Publishing Group Inc.
Heinricy,
Shana, (2010), ‘Take a Ride in the Catbus’, in Josef Steiff and Tristan
Tamplin, Anime and Philosophy: Wide eyed
wonder, p 1-11, Chicago, Carus Publishing Company.
Miyazaki,
Hayao (March 30, 1984), Nausicaa of the
Valley of the Wind Guide Book, Tokyo, Tokuma Shoten, in Beth Cary and
Frederik L. Shodt (transl), (2009), Starting
Point, Hayao Miyazaki: 1979-1996, San Fransisco, Studio Ghibli Inc.
Miyazaki,
Hayao, (September, 25th, 1982), Animage
Comics; Wide Edition Nausicaä Valley
of the Wind, Vol. 1, Tokyo, Tokuma Shoten, in Beth Cary and Frederik L.
Shodt (transl), (2009), Starting Point,
Hayao Miyazaki: 1979-1996, San Fransisco, Studio Ghibli Inc.
Schodt, Frederik L., (1996) Dreamland
Japan: Writings on Modern Manga, Berkeley, Stone Bridge Press.
Shaw,
Daniel M.P., (2005), ‘The Way forward? – Shinto and a 21st Century
Japanese Ecological Attitude’, Dissertation submitted in part completion of the
MA in Values and the Environment, Lancaster University.
Labels:
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Totoro
Friday, January 04, 2013
The myth of homogeneity in Japan and the invisibility of the‘部落民[1]burakumin’.
Figure 1: From the Japan Times, by Chris Mackenzie, Jan 20th, 2009 (Priestly, 2009).
Since the time of
the Meiji emperor and modernisation in the late nineteenth century, Japan has
experienced rapid change. Socially, the
move from feudal to industrial society, including great change for the 侍samurai class,
resulted in changes for the peasants of Japan too. Some considered that Japan became a classless
society by the twentieth century with an homogenous and thoroughly ‘Japanese’
middle class (Mouer and Sugimoto, 1986).
Certainly, for an
outsider, the social breakdown of Japan can be perceived to be largely middle
class and people from one place to another not dissimilar. However, by considering the group of people
known as 部落 buraku post-war, and later
the more non-descript 同和地区 dowa chiku, it is
possible to demonstrate that such homogeneity is not actually the situation for
all Japanese people. Scratch a little
further under the surface and you can see that the Japanese are actually as
varied and diverse in background as just about any national group in the twenty
first century.
It is no surprise
that even the reforms of the Meiji late nineteenth century era did not result
in equal human rights for all citizens of Japan. The indigenous Ainu, and the minorities of Chinese, Korean or Brazilian background
peoples are other socially discriminated groups in Japanese recent history. In
this essay, though, I will illustrate the diversity of Japanese society by
reference to the (originally low caste) group known as the burakumin. This essay will
consider the origins of the buraku, a
range of views about this group, including an experienced ‘invisibility’, the
variety of names used, current levels of discrimination, and finally a
potential resolution to the problems experienced.
The origin of the buraku: ‘穢多Eta’, the ‘unclean’
So where did this
social grouping, later known as dowa
mondai or burakumin, emerge
from? Who are this group and how many
live in Japan? This issue emerged from a
very particular understanding of purity and impurity from times past. 穢れ(汚れ[2]) Kegare is a reference to impurity, which
is caused by coming in touch with ‘death’ or ‘impure’ arts, such as leather
work and eating animals. According to
Jansen (2000), the hereditary eta were
the largest historic subcaste group.
They were popularly associated with death and defilement. Occupations included slaughtering, tanning
and fashioning leather, executions and disposals of corpses. Buddhism had a role in this understanding of
purity, with this notion of kegare, as
pollution, or impurity. People who had
been touched by kegare were to be
avoided. This attested to the ‘un-touchability’
of certain groups within Japanese society from historic times (Amos,
2011). Prior to the Meiji Restoration, this
people group were known as 穢多eta, literally, “filthy mass”. As time went on, they were called other
names.
The Meiji
restoration instigated a formally structured pattern of separate identity,
including the separation of farmers and samurai,
and registration of the population at the Buddhist institutions (Jansen, 2000,
122). On August 28th, 1871,
the Council of State put out an ‘Emancipation Edict’, “The titles of Eta and 非人 Hinin shall be abolished; and henceforth the people
belonging to these classes shall be treated in the same manner both in
occupation and social standing as the common people (平民heimin)” (Emily Reber, 1998; Ito, 2005). However, at the time, there were up to 21
incidents of riots, and Ito has outlined a massacre of burakumin (though they would not have been known by this name at
the time) in Okayama Prefecture in
1873, two years following the proclamation (2005)[i].
Thereafter, despite
the ‘Emancipation Edict’, discrimination continued in the realms of marriage,
housing, social behaviour and occupation.
An invisibility, or avoidance and corresponding taboo within Japanese
society, was projected on the buraku,
whilst their settlements tended to cluster at the outskirts of villages and
towns.
Post world war
II, the only use of the term eta, was
for anonymous decrying or persecution of the buraku groups. Officially,
the term for areas where the buraku could
be found was again to change to be often called abstractly, ‘同和地区dowa
chiku’ (discriminated area), or sometimes still buraku or burakumin. Dowa
mondai, meaning ‘discrimination problem’, dispelled the old names and could
be said to devalue the problem to be invisible. Dowa chiku is an idea rooted in the idea of national integration,
‘unnaming’ those seen as socially different (Amos, 2011).
In 1965, a
Deliberative Council Report acknowledged considerable discrimination, including
poverty, prejudice and neglect of civil, social and economic human rights
(McLaughlan, 2003). Following this in the 1970s and 1980s, conditions in buraku areas improved as a result of ‘Special
Measures Legislation’, which included extensive funding.
Current views on the buraku
Post war, the dowa mondai label served to make this
problem less visible in society, and gradually the buraku[ii]
or burakumin terms have been used less
and less within Japan, becoming taboo in a similar way to the more slanderous eta.
Therefore, when a May 17, 1996 official report from the government on
the status of buraku mondai, called
for a 部落開放基本労 buraku kaihou kihon rou, or
Fundamental Law for Buraku Liberation, the Japanese Communist Party and two
thirds of the Liberal Democratic Party stated their opposition to this law. Their considered reasons were the following:
‘1.
There is no more discrimination
2. If
a law concerning buraku discrimination is passed, discrimination will always
remain.’ Others said at the time: ‘This
type of law which specially entitles burakumin to reap certain government
benefits antagonizes the citizens in general’ (Reber, 1998).
This contradictory
statement is testament to the reasons for the continuing invisibility of this
problem in Japanese society.
Changing titles: same discrimination
Should you
mention the name burakumin today in
Japan, it is quite possible that the person you meet will have little to tell
you about them. It may be that it is
perceived as an embarrassing or even offensive topic (Emily Reber, 1998), in
the mode of the responses to the suggested liberative law above. Because buraku
are physically indistinguishable from other Japanese citizens, and many
people consider that the majority of discrimination has been removed, it is not
uncommon to believe this problem would disappear completely if only people
would stop talking about it.
寝た子はそのまま。Neta
ko wa sono mama ‘Don’t wake a sleeping baby’
The above proverb
sums up this way of thinking. To not
wake a baby, as in the above familiar Japanese saying, is to ignore and do
nothing about buraku mondai and in
this way to avoid any problem (Reber, 1998).
Unfortunately, this has not reduced discrimination. Instead, a high level of misunderstanding
regarding the history and identity of buraku
has resulted.
Similar to the
Australian experience where expectations that immigrants should ‘assimilate’
into society are common, in Japan, buraku
have been expected to ‘integrate’, or forgo their own identity and become a
part of greater Japanese society. The
assumption is that the buraku experience
is not ‘inferior’ or ‘not good enough’, especially if their ancestry is made
known. Actually, a place where people
are unable to announce their ancestry without concern for negative reactions or
issues as a result, is a place where discrimination is apparent (Reber, 1998). Integration in this context is at the cost of
individual and buraku identity. It would seem that there is a need for a
reclamation of the buraku name and
identity.
21st Century buraku discrimination
Discrimination
continues into the twenty first century. Buraku discrimination includes human
rights violations such as slanderous graffiti, marriage discrimination and
employment discrimination (Burakukaiho 2004 and Teraki and Noguchi, 2001, cited
in Takuya Ito, 2005). In 2001,
McLaughlan conducted research in a buraku
in Osaka, interviewing 21 residents who had experienced prejudice and
discrimination. Nineteen out of the
interviewees thought that the problems of prejudice would not be solved in the
following one hundred years (2003).
In May 2003, when
Uramoto Yoshifumi, researcher and activist at the Buraku Liberation League
(BLL), received numerous packages in the mail marked ‘pay on delivery’,
followed by dozens of handwritten postcards in Japanese, some containing
threats such as: ‘For an eta, Uramoto
is pretty arrogant. I’ll kill him’ (Amos, 2011). Eventually, the protagonist of these letters
and packages was caught and tried.
The 2008 Academy
Award winning, Japanese film, “Okuribito”
or “Departures” (Rojiro Takita) did not explicitly name burakumin, but it is the story of an out
of work young man, who, in a country town, overcomes his fear of death and
works in a job which would once have been only done by buraku people. His work as
an assistant in a funeral home is considered shameful to family and friends.
Figure 2:
Another fascinating example of
the prevalence and/or sensitivity to this discrimination emerged recently upon Google
Earth’s culturally unconsidered publishing of a map in relation to buraku neighbourhoods. Google Earth caused a furore in Japan, by
posting maps to its historical online section in 2008 (see Figure 2 for an
example from Osaka), sourced from the University of California, and a
collector, David Rumsey. There was a
considerable backlash to Google Earth, due to the subsequent revelations of burakumin areas in Osaka and Tokyo
(Huffington Post, 2-5-2009). By
identifying some areas as burakumin using
the offensive term eta, Google was
potentially contributing to discrimination, because people who live in a
particular area of Osaka could be identified by their address as burakumin. This would potentially lead
to workplace and marital discrimination, and other social ostracism. In the end Google removed the maps. A neighbourhood near Asakusa, for example,
was identified in these maps as an ‘Eta’
village.
Figure 2: A David Rumsey map, overlaid over a Google Map of
Osaka (Woodblock, 1806), accessed online, 24th July, 2012.
Different views about the ‘Dowa’ or ‘Buraku’ problem?
Solutions to this
level of discrimination are controversial.
The two major liberation groups have been consistently in conflict with
each other. Whilst the BKD or 部落開放同盟 buraku
kohei domei, have had aggressive strategies of
publicity and confrontation, the Zenkairen (All
Japan Federation of Buraku Liberation) has since the 1970s preferred to avoid
conflict and take a softer approach. Whilst
the BKD has frequently said that the Zenkairen does not believe in a problem,
this is not actually the case. Reber
talks of the need for the two groups to be more conciliatory and to work
together for the cause of the buraku. In effect, in some cases, the government
has only recognised buraku under the
BKD banner and therefore other buraku people
have missed out on equal participation in new initiatives. Perhaps there is a middle road and the two
groups can learn from each other.
Reclaiming a buraku heritage Figure 3
It is the taiko drums of Japan (Figure 1 and 3)
that suggest this path to the future. Recently,
Japan’s taiko drums have come to symbolise more than a rallying call to the
Japanese to be patriotic. They have come,
in themselves, in some parts of Japan, to represent this (sometimes) proud
minority, the burakumin. This is, of course, because the making of the
taiko drums is a leather work, which is a work undertaken by the burakumin peoples. Japan’s famous taiko drums, made with
leather, were originally, of course, made by the lower caste group, the burakumin, or eta, those who had to deal with animal skins and dead animal parts. Today, the Naniwa buraku community in Osaka celebrates its history by an avenue lined
with showcases of leather production and taiko drums, as well as seats shaped
like taiko. The road leads to the Osaka
Human Rights Museum, where the human rights struggle, which the buraku community has participated in, is
celebrated (Ian Priestly, 2009). Also,
positively, the physical environment of many buraku areas, including apartments and schools have been improved
considerably, benefitting from special funds from the government.
The buraku liberation league has supported attempts
to reclaim the name, buraku, although
its cause was not helped early this century when one of its main leaders was
linked to ヤクザ yakuza gangster[3] corruption
(Johnston, 2006). Still, the buraku name is certainly more visible in
Osaka.
The Future
Whilst the Meiji
restoration made moves to deal with the discrimination problem, outlawing in
name a general class of people, other names emerged and the discrimination
problem evolved and changed over time. Strongly
held views on kegare, or impurity
have remained strong in the 21st century and taboos about the buraku people have continued to
reverberate into discrimination. The
goal of the Buraku Liberation League in particular, has been to restore a sense
of pride amongst the burakumin, that
their history is actually of importance and that staying silent (and shameful)
about it is not the only response. It is
to be hoped that the buraku people
and groups can develop a sense of unity in this reclamation of visibility in
Japanese society, transcending history. A
sense of pride for the buraku people
is shown by the avenue of taiko drum,
a belief in human rights and a shared consciousness with other oppressed
minorities around the world. Rather than
simply disappearing, perhaps the buraku will
come to represent Japan’s new future.
REFERENCES
Amos, Timothy D., (2011), Embodying difference: The making of
Burakumin in Modern Japan, Honolulu, University of Hawaii Press.
De Vos, George, William O Wetherall and
Kaye Stearman, (1983), Japan’s
Minorities: Burakumin, Koreans, Ainu and Okinawans, 3rd Edition,
London, Minorities Rights Group.
Goto, Masaru, Portraits of Japan’s Outcaste People, www.masarugoto.com, accessed, 31st
July, 2012, includes downloadable pdf file.
Huffington Post, (2nd May,
2009), ‘Old Japanese maps on google’, accessed online 24th July,
2012.
Ito, Takuya, (October 31st,
2005), ‘Cooperativeness and Buraku Discrimination.’ Electronic
Journal of Contemporary Japanese Studies, Discussion Paper 5, http://www.japanesestudies.org.uk/
Jansen, Marius, (2000), The Making of Modern Japan, London,
Harvard University Press.
Johnston, Eric, (2006), ‘Activist’s arrest
lays bare yakuza’s ties with burakumin’, Japan Times online, http://www.japantimes.co.jp/text/nn20060713f1.html, accessed 17th August, 2012.
McLaughlan, Alastair, (January 31, 2003) ‘Solving
Anti-Burakujumin Prejudice in the 21st
Century: suggestions from 21 Buraku Residents’,
Electronic Journal of Contemporary
Japanese studies, Discussion Paper 1, http://www.japanesestudies.org.uk/
Mouer, Ross, and Yoshio Sugimoto, (1986) Images of
Japanese Society: A Study on the Structure of Social Reality. London and
New York, Kegan Paul International.
Priestley, Ian (January 20, 2009), ‘Breaking
the silence on burakumin’, Japan Times Online, accessed 13th
July, 2012.
Reber, Emily A.S., (1998), ‘Buraku mondai in Japan: Historical and
Modern Perspectives and Directions for the Future: From the perspective of an
American Researcher’, Dowa Mondai
Kenkyuu: 20 (45-62), Osaka, Osaka City University.
Rumsey, David, ‘Japanese Historical Maps’,
(2002) http://www.davidrumsey.com/japan/view.html, accessed 31st July, 2012,
University of California.
[1] On first
introduction of a Japanese word, for the purposes of this essay, I have
included Japanese Kanji, as this is a useful reference point for those who have
Japanese/and to some extent Chinese proficiency. Because many of these words are
taboo as I have mentioned, it is not possible to input the phonetic reading
into a Japanese keyboard and automatically produce the Kanji, rather you need
to input the kanji one at a time.
[3] However, many
slanderous links have been made to yakuza
over the years, and a quick scan of internet sources pulls these up, which
are very often unverified. Eg. http://factsanddetails.com/japan.php?itemid=634&catid=18, accessed, 18th August,
2012.
[i] “They
made the captured Burakumin prostrate
themselves and write letters of apology. They persistently chased the Burakumin who tried to escape to
a nearby mountain. When they found the Burakumin on the mountain, they killed them with bamboo
spears and pushed a woman, who was carrying a baby on her back, off the
mountain. Eighteen people were killed, and thirteen people were injured, 263
houses were burnt down, and 51 houses were destroyed in the riot. From a social
psychological perspective, such a crowd is called an 'aggressive mob' (Abe
1977: 128-151). When the farmers started rioting, they sent letters to other
farmers who did not participate in the riot. This was a forceful demand for
'cooperativeness'. Under these circumstances, can the discriminators still
assert that is the Burakumin who
are 'dreadful', that 'the Burakumin attack
in a group', or that 'the Burakumin are
unpredictable people'? In fact, the dreadful people are not the Burakumin themselves but the
people who project their shadow onto the Burakumin”. (Ito, 2005)
[ii] Buraku was an administrative term for a ‘neighbourhood’,
which came to be a reference to
areas of low-caste groups post-war.
Labels:
buraku,
burakumin,
discrimination,
Japan,
Osaka
Location:
Osaka, Osaka Prefecture, Japan
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
Earthquake, tsunami and nuclear crisis 2011
Earthquake, tsunami and
nuclear crisis hits Japan
On
the 11th March, 2011, an immense earthquake off the coast of
northern Japan precipitated a large scale crisis, not only in terms of the
ensuing tsunami, but also due to the events which unfolded over the following
days in relation to a related nuclear fallout crisis at a series of nuclear
plants at Fukushima, north of Tokyo. This third element of the crisis clearly
had national, regional and international implications, entailing a rethink of
the use of nuclear power around the world.
In a report of this length, I can only hope to examine a few of the
relevant factors and issues. My focus will be on the nuclear fallout issues,
and a particularly ‘Japanese’ or Asian attitude towards these, rather than the
impact of the actual tsunami. The debate
about nuclear energy continues to rage in relation to a much heralded and already
emerging world crisis of energy. The economic implications of NOT using nuclear
energy are immense, not least for Japan, which post 2011, has suffered
con-currently from economic recession and malaise. Recently, Japan has again
opened one of its fifty nuclear reactors (In Ohi, 1st July, 2012).
Nuclear
energy has always been controversial and it is, therefore, hard to find a view
which is not either strongly for or strongly against the use of this energy
source. In Japan, too, the only country
in the world where nuclear bombs have been used, this kind of disaster has
extreme connotations. The public has rallied strongly against nuclear power use
since March 2011.
Soon
after the disaster, Takashi Hirose wrote a best seller in Japan, entitled
“Fukushima Meltdown” (2011). Hirose is stridently anti-nuclear power, but in a
country which also experienced the devastating nuclear ravages of war, in
Hiroshima and Nagasaki, it is not surprising that voices such as his have been
well regarded. 原発震災Genpatsu shinsai,
(literally nuclear power plant earthquake disaster) is a word which a professor
at Kobe University has used since the 1970s and Hirose has seized on this to
describe what had occurred in Japan in 2011. Hirose is particularly pessimistic
about nuclear energy, as can be seen from the following sample short section of
his writings:
‘If you
ask, “Will Japan still be here in ten years?”, I have the evil foreboding that
he answer might be, “There is a very strong chance that it will not”….In the
future there awaits an unknowable, vast dark age. I don’t want to contemplate its form, but it
is the fear of a genpatsu shinsai syndrome brought about by movements of the
earth that no human knowledge can control.
Today
this evil foreboding has become a reality and is getting worse day by day…’ (Hirose, 2012,
15).
Despite the reach of
voices such as Hirose’s, it seems that nuclear fallout will not prevent Japan
from again using nuclear power.
The World Energy
Council in March 2012 put out a report in regards to nuclear energy (Holloway,
2012). This report said that a number of
Western powers have ceased their nuclear power development, but countries such
as China and India are continuing to develop their facilities, though perhaps
taking more care.
Unsurprisingly, plants
were closed quickly after the disaster for cautionary reasons across China,
Korea and Europe. One hundred and forty
three nuclear plants are to be found in Europe, and it is not surprising that
the news from Japan has had an immediate impact on nuclear development here.[i]
As is widely known, Germany quickly decided to shut down its oldest reactors
over a three month period, and to phase out all nuclear power by 2022. Germany itself has changed direction
significantly, in this sense, with this disaster seen to represent the dangers
of reliance on nuclear energy. At the same time, as I will note, other
countries have not synonymously followed.
Prior to Fukushima,
Japan was the third-largest provider of nuclear energy in the world, with a
plan to increase to 53% of the world’s nuclear energy by 2030. This no longer appears to be the case, with a
retraction in Japan from development. As already noted, Europe has also reduced
development slightly. However, China and
India look to continue future significant expansion in nuclear power
development. These two nations will
continue to add 197 and 64 reactors respectively (Holloway, 2012). Also, previous French president, President
Sarkozy of France on 27th June, 2011, announced a 1.43 billion
dollar investment of nuclear power, saying, “there is no alternative to nuclear
energy today” (‘Fukushima fallout…’, 2011).
Figure 2 Energy Production, Kuo,
2011.
At the centre of the
Japanese incident was an economic imperative to provide an energy source, as
gas and coal fired energy sources dwindle (figure 2, Energy production). At the same time, risk management, which is a
big industry in itself, did not provide a successful management strategy for a
disaster such as the tsunami unleashed in March, 2011. To what extent was this the fault of the
company, or the fault of government, for not regulating appropriately? Is this something which could only be
expected to happen in Japan, or is it a potentiality in other places or in
other Asian countries? An apposite question here is how groups involved can
ensure that the economics and the safety features of energy production such as
nuclear power plants are not mutually exclusive. Firstly then, it is worth considering the
interest groups particularly close to this issue, and then to take a look at
the evolution of events on the 11th March, 2011, especially in
relation to Fukushima.
Representing the
pro-nuclear power side of interest groups regarding this issue was the Tokyo
Electric Power Company (TEPCO), who managed the power plant. Tellingly, TEPCO, on the 28th
February, prior to the disaster, submitted a report admitting falsified
inspection and repair reports including 30 components of the nuclear plants
(Kuo, 2011). Other interest groups
included the Japanese government and the media, who had an interest in public
safety and education. Economic concerns were also most probably also dominant
in the government’s attempts to control the development of this issue. In a
world where nuclear power is controversial, media interest was, however to
prove to be significant to the development of this issue.
Media reaction
Hirose argued that the
first piece of spin from TEPCO, the media and the government was the argument
that the ongoing effects of nuclear fallout were unable to be predicted. More concise and scientific discussion may
certainly have assisted in allaying the public’s fears. Also, Hirose (2012) believes that the media
in conjunction with TEPCO, misled the public.
For example, they overplayed, he says, how unnatural an event the tsunami
itself was. He notes that although TEPCO
argued that the tsunami of 2011 was of ‘unimaginable height’, at 38.9 metres at
highest point, measured on Omoe Peninsula, Iwate prefecture, in fact, in 1896,
a tsunami was observed in the same prefecture with a height of 38.2m. After the 1933 Showa Sanriku Earthquake, a
height of 24.4m was measured and in 1993, a tsunami of more than 30m hit the
Okushiri Island (Hirose, 2012, 30). Whilst
the earthquake itself may have been an extremely rare event, considering its
magnitude, the size of the waves was not unprecedented, or unimaginable.
At the same time, unsurprisingly,
the media played up the nuclear aspect of the disaster. Adam Burgess (2011) noted that the story of
the tsunami became a lesser story to that of the radiation from Fukushima, when
he argued that in fact there were very few casualties of the nuclear radiation. In particular, in Japan, with the strong
memories of the nuclear fallout following Hiroshima and Nagasaki, any nuclear
catastrophe is sure to be feared greatly by the people. It is true, as well, that the international
media made this a major focus of their reporting of the events in Japan.
The Unfolding of Events
The magnitude of the
initial earthquake, which was centred about 130 km out to the Pacific Ocean,
east of the city of Sendai, was 9.0 on the Richter scale. This would make it the fifth earthquake since
1900 of magnitude 9.0 or higher (USGS, Earthquake Hazards Program). Figure 1 from NASA shows a pre and
post-tsunami image, graphically illustrating the reach of the tsunami, on the
coastline of northern Japan, from Fukushima to northern Sendai. In this region,
there was inundation of over four kilometres inland of sea waters. The waves which hit coastal settlements along
the Japanese coast wielded significant damage and there will clearly be a long
period of rebuilding necessary for those affected. The death toll was also high.
The initial unfolding
of events on March 11th, 2011, was highly unpredictable. The earthquake released a tsunami which
inflicted heavy damage on coastal communities north of Tokyo, in particular to
the three prefectures of Fukushima, Miyagi and Iwate. On Friday afternoon, the world watched
television images showing waves roaring inland in Japan and pushing aside heavy
objects such as trucks as if they were toys (Fackler, 2011). The Japanese news media in the early days
reported that the death toll could rise to be more than 1300 people. There was no electricity and no water for
many people in shelters. Business
reports of the impacts quickly estimated that 86418 businesses and 311934
employees had been impacted and 209 billion dollars’ worth of sales volume lost,
across 715 industries (D&B, 2011 Impact Report). It is the ensuing nuclear fallout that I will
now examine. It was thought by some
commentators that even the megalopolis itself, Tokyo, might be forced to
evacuate to escape such nuclear fallout.
Meltdown and social networking
Late on March 11, the
news of a potential partial nuclear meltdown of a nuclear plant in Fukushima
began to come through. In association
with the three prongs of earthquake, tsunami and nuclear meltdown, in the hours
after the earthquake, 177 million tweets were sent, and 572000 new Twitter
accounts were created (Tucker, 2011). In
the end, three reactors experienced complete meltdown and several hydrogen
explosions occurred in the subsequent days (Gioetta Kuo, 2011). It is possible that the social networking
reaction is a particularly Japanese response.
It is also likely to be true that this is a particularly twenty first
century response to this kind of event. Rather
than relying on news reports, and in a cynical attitude to the typical media
forms, people used social networking such as ‘Twitter’, to keep themselves
informed of developments. At the same
time, of course, social networking itself may function in a reactionary way,
responding to rumours and innuendo.
Pragmatic use of social networking, though, enables networks of
acquaintances, friends and colleagues to respond to urgent issues, quickly and
effectively. In the case of nuclear
fallout, these networks were able to provide a lot more information than other
media, which is what people desired.
So what of the
government response? The Kan
administration, represented by Chief cabinet secretary, Yukio Edano, was
initially a frequent spokesperson for the government, but the government was
itself reliant on the operator, TEPCO, or Tokyo Electric Power. At the same time, TEPCO is more recently
reporting that the government handled things badly and did not make good
decisions at the time.
In response to the
crisis at the time, the Japanese government constantly revised guidelines
regarding the nuclear fallout. As a result, a crisis of lacking public
confidence became evident (and possibly drove more people to seek information
from other sources, such as social networking). Tucker (2011) argues that to
the government failed to predict some of the potential consequences of the
disaster, such as the possibility of increasing radiation levels in local milk,
vegetables and seawater and that Tokyo’s drinking water would also see a
‘radiation spike’.
When these things were
reported by the media, without any prediction from TEPCO or the government,
there was a resulting panic and concern. The Japanese government then moved to expand
the evacuation area around the nuclear plant from 10 to 20 kilometres. Further implications of this uncertainty
included the mass migration of expatriates out of Japan, and within Japan, as
well as a huge fall in tourism for Japan.
Many expatriate foreigners quickly removed themselves from Tokyo, to
either a city further away, such as Osaka or even returning home overseas. The French government, ironically (in its
support of nuclear energy power), promptly advised its citizens to leave
Tokyo. At the same time, Japanese
businesses suffered enormous blows, based upon the loss of business and of
course the impacts of the tsunami’s physical devastation.
The likelihood of future radiation events
The nuclear radiation
issue has been continuously monitored since the meltdown event. Like nuclear
irradiation experienced in Chernobyl, the impact will continue to be monitored
and it is likely to become clearer over the next 30 to 50 years. As for this
accident, TEPCO is currently claiming that it was government ineptitude, rather
than the company’s stance which caused considerable public confusion following
the disaster (Hiroko Tabuchi, June, 2012).
Currently too, as the government aims to reopen the first two reactors
following the disaster, in Oi, some experts have called for a re-examination of
the safety level of the plant, considering a fault line which lies beneath it.
Conclusions
In a world where
nuclear power continues to be a reality, especially with its perceived
efficiency, there is a need for checks to be held between the dangers of
fallout and the economic advantages. However,
the very ‘Japanese’ or ‘Asian’ response to the crisis of nuclear fallout in
Japan included a lack of confidence in government assurances. The media was also mistrusted by the Japanese
public and that was reflected in this case by the greater dependence of the
public on twitter and other social media.
Nuclear radiation continues to be a much misunderstood topic, and there
is a need for a greater level of dialogue between both sides, nuclear
proponents and anti-nuclear campaigners, for the sake of public safety. Whilst the nuclear industry has for many
years argued for the safety of plants around the world, this incident belies
that claim. It has caused the industry
around the world to take breath and to re-evaluate.
Nevertheless, the
economic imperative, with ongoing greenhouse implications of changing climate,
also continues to impact this issue.
There are, of course, conservationists who believe that nuclear energy
has a great future. Nuclear energy
continues to be seen as a cheap alternative to carbon rich energies. It is to be hoped that this incident would ensure
that future development is appropriate and is not “Simpson-esque”, remembering
the Springfield nuclear power plant in “The Simpsons” cartoon, which was
mis-managed and accident prone. The memories of those in Japan will certainly
limit the developments allowed by its government, whilst China and Korea and
other Asian countries will likely continue down the nuclear energy track. At
the same time, Australia continues to hold the line that any nuclear power is only
used for scientific research, whilst selling uranium on a large scale to Asia.
It is without doubt that the economic considerations must not overplay the
importance of environmental and social impacts for the future.
REFERENCES
Dun &
Bradstreet, (April 5, 2011) Impact Report
of Japan Earthquake and Tsunami: Preliminary Business Impact Analysis for High
Impact Areas of Japan, D&B.
Burgess, Adam, (2011), ‘Fukushima
Fixation: The Media Focus on Radiation Risk in Tsunami-stricken Japan’, European Journal of Risk Regulation; 2011, Vol. 2 Issue
2, p209-212, 4p, University of Kent, Canterbury.
Fackler, Martin, (12th
March, 2011) ‘Japan Tsunami: Toll could rise to more than 1,300’, New York, The
New York Times.
‘Fukushima
Fallout fails to dim nuclear’s long-term prospects’, (2011), Power
Engineering International 19 (8), 72-72, 74, 76. Retrieved from http://search.proquest.com
Hirose, Takashi, (May, 2011),
translated by Douglas Lummis, Fukushima
Meltdown, Asahi Shinbun Publications, Tokyo: #298.
Holloway, James, (March 14th, 2012), “Despite Fukushima disaster, global nuclear
power expansion continues”, accessed, June 12th, 2012,
arstechnica.com, Scientific Method/Science and Exploration.
Kuo, Gioetta
(2011), ‘Nuclear Energy after Fukushima’, World
Future Review; Winter2011, Vol. 3 Issue 4, p35-37, 3p.
Tabuchi,
Hiroko (June 20th, 2012), ‘Nuclear Operator in Japan exonerates
itself after report’, New York Times, retrieved, 2nd July, 2012, http://www.nytimes.com/2012/06/21/world/asia/tepco-operator-of-fukushima-exonerates-itself-in-report.html?_r=2.
Tucker, P. (2011). ‘My first meltdown: Lessons from Fukushima’, The Futurist, 45 (4), 14-16., retrieved
from http://search.proquest.com.
USGS, Earthquake
Hazards Program, accessed, 2nd July, 2012, http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/.
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