The Ainu Research Center: Boon or bane?

There is a theory that the Ainu people, who are the aboriginal people of Japan’s northernmost island of Hokkaido, the Kuriles, and Sakhalin, were the first people to cross over into North America, thereby becoming Native Americans, too.

That may not be true, as Native Americans tend to be less hirsute, but if it is, it would mean this ethnic group got the short end of the stick on two continents. The Japanese developed Hokkaido in the 19th century in a manner somewhat similar to the way Americans opened up the West, and meted out similar treatment to the natives. To be sure, there was no open warfare or butchery in Hokkaido as there was in North America—just the universal routine of one ethnic group putting another under its thumb, with less violence.

No one is quite sure where the Ainu came from. They have a legend claiming they “lived in this place a hundred thousand years before the Children of the Sun came.” They have their own language that seems to share no common ancestor with any other language. In other words, it may be unique, like Basque. Genetic testing shows that the closest ethnic group geographically with the most similar attributes is in Tibet.

After years of discriminatory treatment as well as intermarriage with Japanese, their numbers have dwindled and some of their dialects have disappeared. The Japanese liked to think of themselves as tanitsu minzoku, or a homogenous race, but despite the claims of some foreigners who enjoy indulging in self-righteous indignation, that phrase is not heard so much anymore. Most of the doors in Japan are open now, and people know about the Ainu, native Okinawans, and other groups. Besides, local anthropologists have always known about them—as well as the different geographical origins of eastern and western Japanese.

In yet another sign that doors continue to open, Hokkaido University announced it would be the site of the country’s first Ainu-Aborigine Research Center, which will begin operation in April to study the Ainu from multiple perspectives, including language, culture, and history. A report by the Hokkaido Shimbun (the link is only in Japanese and gone in a week) says that particular emphasis will be placed on a full recovery of rights for the indigenous people. Their objective is to become a center for Ainu research and information dissemination in Japan.

This is unquestionably a capital idea that is long overdue. Some of the center’s activities described by the article, however, make one wonder if another of their objectives is to develop a permanent guild of civil rights opportunists and parasites of the type that have sprung up elsewhere around the world. The center plans to create a network with other aboriginal organizations and research institutions to pool their efforts in the legal and political fields. They also plan to hire specialists in constitutional, civil, and international law to study how certain rights have been guaranteed for the Canadian Inuits and the Australian Aborigines. The development of programs for high school and university education is in the works, as are plans for eco-tourism.

People who have seen this process before know that for every undoubtedly positive benefit this might achieve, there is also the potential for harmful measures that cause society to regress in the name of progressivism. It should be obvious by now that multiculturalism often devolves into just another form of racism whose ultimate effect will be to continue to deny those formerly oppressed the benefits of mainstream society.

Japan is a nation ruled by law, and all Japanese enjoy the same rights under the law, even if they’re Ainu. Working for the restoration of rights has an ominious ring to me. It sounds as if what they might try to do is create special privileges exclusively for a single group, rather than guarantee rights.

The measure of success should be that a person’s ethnicity has become no more significant than the color of their eyes. The measures of failure will be the purposeful creation of de facto segregation, the designation of specific lands for the use of a specified ethnic group, and demands for (or the payment of) reparations, not to mention such trivialities as the creation of faux college majors in ethnic studies.

And if they institute an affirmative action program, you’ll know it’s hopeless. They’ve missed the point altogether.

Kamikazes: How many were really volunteers?

More than 60 years after the sudden appearance and even more abrupt departure of the so-called kamikaze pilots of World War II, misconceptions about the pilots themselves still prevail overseas. Some still assume the pilots were fanatical volunteers eager to sacrifice their lives for the Emperor and save the nation by flying their aircraft into American ships–hence the use in English of the word kamikaze to mean someone conducting an enterprise so recklessly they are unconcerned about death.

The Japanese, of course, know how little of this corresponds to the truth. They’re well aware of how much fiction exists in the idea of soldiers willing to die for the emperor and selfless pilots so dedicated to their country that they enthusiastically stepped forward to join the tokkotai.

A recently published book, Kamikaze Diaries: Reflections of Japanese Student Soldiers, by Emiko Ohnuki-Tierney, might help rectify these misconceptions.

Then again, perhaps not…

The Sea of Japan: Maybe it really is a Sea of Peace

The ebbing of the Korean Wave in Japanese popular culture has been well documented since early last year (scroll down). Not so long ago, it was difficult to turn on a television in Japan without stumbling across a Korean drama, but that’s no longer the case.

That the Korean Broadcast Institute offered excuses in their report rather than reasons makes one suspect they weren’t facing reality:

The report attributes the ebb in popularity with broadcasters to the fact that no Korean stars have emerged to fill the shoes of Bae Yong-joon or Choi Ji-woo, combined with the fact that Korean dramas are steadily losing their competitive edge to Chinese and Hong Kong dramas in terms of price….(Kim Yung-duk) stressed that Korea needs to come up with measures to secure channels to air Korean dramas by, for instance, starting a new channel in Japan or investing capital in the Japanese channels.

Bae is still around in Japan, but he often appears as a pitchman in commercials, which is much more lucrative than starring in a single drama series. In fact, he replaced Shigeo Nakashima, Mr. Baseball himself, the most popular Japanese baseball player ever, as the commercial spokesman for one company when the latter suffered a stroke. Also, I’ve yet to see any Chinese or Hong Kong dramas on TV in Japan, though I live in Kyushu and that might be a Tokyo or Osaka phenomenon.

But the mention that South Korea might have to buy its way back on Japanese TV suggests they have a realistic grasp of the situation.

Be that as it may, a wave still flows between South Korea and Japan–but this time, it’s the Japan Wave in South Korea. Koreans are visiting Japan in record numbers, and many of them are coming to Kyushu. The flight from anywhere in South Korea to Kyushu is shorter than the one to Tokyo, and high speed jetfoils can comfortably depart from Busan after breakfast and reach the Port of Hakata by lunchtime.

The extent of Korean tourism in Kyushu was highlighted by a report in the Nishinippon Shimbun (Japanese only, link gone in a week) that sales of the SUNQ (Thank you) pass for unlimited bus travel on long-distance and route buses throughout Kyushu, offered by 46 regional bus companies, soared beyond 20,000 for the period from April to December 2006. The primary factor behind the surge was South Korean interest. A regional breakdown of sales shows that 73% of the passes were sold in Kyushu, 22% in South Korea, and 4.9% in Tokyo. South Korea accounted for 36% of all sales in December alone.

This has prompted Nishitetsu, the largest bus company in Kyushu, to sign agreements with Korean travel agents to sell the pass. The most popular bus routes start in Fukuoka City and extend to Huis ten Bosch in Sasebo, Nagasaki Prefecture; the hot springs area of Beppu, Oita Prefecture; and the Aso area of Kumamoto Prefecture. (Mt. Aso is an active volcano with the largest crater in the world.)

The Koreans aren’t just taking the bus, either. The regional railway, JR Kyushu, reports that sales of their Rail Pass for unlimited express train travel, available only to foreigners, climbed 35% year-on-year during the same nine-month period. More than 70% of these passes are purchased by South Koreans.

Two things would seem to be obvious from this report:

1. If the South Koreans couldn’t stand Japan or the Japanese, they wouldn’t be coming in such large numbers.
2. If the South Koreans weren’t welcomed cordially by the Japanese, they wouldn’t want to come in such large numbers.

It might be well to keep that in mind the next time you read or hear a superficial comment in the media taking it as given that the citizens of both countries get along like cats and dogs (or dogs and monkeys, as they say in Japan). Indeed, I suspect this is just another facile storyline pushed by the media to maintain interest in their own product, or sloppy work by third-country media sources too lazy to look for the real story. The media have lost their credibility in every other area, so there’s no reason to think they have any here, either.

In fact, what we may be seeing is the emergence of a new Silent Majority—the people of South Korea and Japan who actually get on well with each other!

Website: The road to Yoshinogari leads through Seoul

If you’re looking for some absorbing websites—and you know dang well the Britney Spears crotch shots really aren’t worth looking at—you might wander on over to the extensive list at the left sidebar. That list alone could occupy your spare time for weeks on end.

One of them is the link at the very bottom for the Yoshinogari Historical Park in Saga Prefecture. This is the site of the largest moat-enclosed Japanese settlement from the Yayoi period, which dates roughly from the 3rd century BC to the 3rd century AD.

The site’s discovery generated a big hubbub in Japan because it closely resembles the place visited by Chinese envoys described in the Gishi Wajinden. This is the earliest written account of any kind about the Japanese people. The text has frustrated scholars, however, because the location of the site is improperly explained. (If you followed the author’s instructions, you’d wind up somewhere in the middle of the sea.)

To commemorate the 20th anniversary of Yoshinogari’s discovery, the Japanese and South Koreans will hold a joint exhibit from October to December at the National Museum of Korea in Seoul. This will be the first time a full display of Yoshinogari artifacts will be shown overseas, and one of the few occasions for an overseas museum to hold an exhibit focusing on a single Japanese archaeological site.

The items found at Yoshinogari include earthenware vessels from the preliterate age that resemble those of Korean design, as well as the oldest molds for bronze discovered in Japan. They are clear evidence of the close interaction between Kyushu and the Korean Peninsula in those days. There will be about 250 Japanese items exhibited, including the bronze ware, swords, and cobalt blue, glass tubular beads. At the same time, the Koreans will exhibit about 150 items found during the same period on the Korean Peninsula to provide a comparison.

The exhibit will last for two months, and will then shift to the Saga Prefectural Museum (Japanese only) in January 2008.

In the words of a member of the local Board of Education (the bodies responsible for archaeological matters in Japan):

“Yoshinogari symbolizes the period of the greatest interaction between the Korean Peninsula and Japan.”

Perhaps this will help disabuse some people of the notion that relations between Japan and South Korea are dismal. A couple of years ago, during NHK Radio’s annual weeklong broadcasts from Seoul, a Korean guest asserted that Japanese-South Korean relations were very “mature” (his word), other than for a few politicians.

Indeed.

And to conclude, here’s one more that might shake up a few other preconceived notions–the leader of the Yoshinogari settlement was a queen named Himiko.

Chindogu: Unuseless inventions

WE’VE ALL GOT PROBLEMS, but Kenji Kawakami has solutions for problems we never knew we had.

For example, suppose you’re getting ready to prepare a fish for sashimi—particularly one that’s still alive—and you get unnerved by that fish eye staring back at you.

Kawakami’s solution? A fish face cover that slides over the fish head so you can slice in serenity.

Suppose you’re a Japanese housewife whose husband has to get up at 5:00 a.m. Sunday morning to tee off with some customers at a golf course that’s two hours away by car. Kawakami lets you fulfill your wifely duty to see him off in the morning, yet remain comfortably asleep, by providing an automated waving hand that can be attached to the alarm clock.

These and dozens of other problem solvers are inventions that Kawakami calls chindogu, which means “unusual tools”. A self-described “designer, anarchist, and pathological mail-order enthusiast”, Kawakami is the founder of the International Chindogu Society, which claims 10,000 members.

Another Kawakami term for chindogu is “unuseless inventions”, and I think several circuits in my brain have shut down permanently just by reading it.

Take the plunge and start with this review of Kawakami’s “Bumper Book of Unuseless Japanese Inventions” that appeared in The Scotsman. (Ignore their claim that chindogu literally means “distorted tools”.)

If you have the nerve to keep going, try the website of the International Chindogu Society in English. It has photos of some of these marvels, a few of which were actually shown on TV. If you read Japanese, you can visit the official Chindogu site in Japan here. Kawakami claims on the site that chindogu are the pastime of the nobility–though he doesn’t tell us which country those nobility were thrown out of!

If you’re ready for more, you can try this site featuring the Chindogu Manifesto. Number 2 is, “A chindogu must exist”, and declares, “You are not allowed to use a chindogu, but it must be made.”

If you’ve seen the light and want to commune directly with the source, Kawakami’s books in English are sold by the usual Internet merchants.

Don’t be surprised if people cross over to the other side of the street when they see you coming, however.

“Basically, chindogu is the same as the Industrial Revolution in Britain.” - Kenji Kawakami

UPDATE: The New York Times beclowns itself by falling for a chindogu prankster and writing a serious story about how they are used as crime-prevention devices. No, I am not making this up. You can read more here.

The Namba Yasaka Shrine: Demons beware!

Here’s a brain teaser: What has occupied the same site for almost a millenium, has 220 separate areas where you can buy protective amulets or fortunes from vending machines, has an outdoor structure that is designed to resemble a mythological lion with fangs and an open mouth—inside of which is a performance stage—and has an open space where neighborhood kids come to hang out and play volleyball?

If you guessed a religious institution, you got lucky, but you guessed right. It’s the Namba Yasaka Shinto Shrine in Osaka, not far from the old Osaka Stadium where the Nankai Hawks baseball team used to play until they moved to Fukuoka.

Osaka is known as Japan’s mercantile city, so it’s not surprising that the shrine would be influenced by regional traits, but the sheer number of opportunities for spending money is unusual even for that town, much less a Shinto shrine. For 300 to 500 yen (US$2.50 - $4.12), visitors can buy fortunes providing the lowdown on their family, health, success in school, success in business, and naturally, success in love. There are even amulets for sale that correspond to different blood types. Some of these fortunes come with a free maneki neko (also here) or a daruma. Some of them are sold on the honor system—you put your money into a slot—and some are sold in actual vending machines. The top of this Japanese-language site features a series of rotating photographs that include shots of the vending machines.

The shrine’s origin is not clear, but there was a Shinto shrine on this site during the period from 1069 to 1072. At some point, it was part of a religious two-for-the-price-of-one package, sharing the grounds with a Buddhist temple. These combinations were not uncommon in Japan, but they were separated after the Meiji Restoration in 1868. Shortly afterward, Namba Yasaka became an exclusively Shinto facility in 1872.

The outdoor structure is called the Ojishi-den, or Palace of the Great Lion. Visitors say it’s about the size of a three-story building, and officially it is 12 meters high, 11 meters wide, and 10 meters deep. The ferocious face is designed to drive away any demons, and if I were a demon, I’d sure find some other place to go. There’s a stage inside that mouth, and according to reports, it’s used for concerts several times a year. The reports did not mention the sort of music played at those concerts.

As is the case with most Shinto shrines, it conducts a matsuri every year. Held on the third Sunday of January—just last week!–the festival features a tug-of-war contest (a common element in Japanese events of this type). A scene from the tug-of-war in front of the Ojishi-den is shown in the photo.

Having read this post, I’m sure you can draw your own conclusions about the differences in religious customs between Japan and…well, the rest of the known universe. I don’t think I could put it into words anyway!

The governor’s not for roasting

It’s beginning to look a lot like Sonomanma Higashi Week around here, but after our previous stories about the new political career for the former comedian, ruffian, and playmate of underage girls at sex clubs, a look at how the Miyazaki Prefecture governor spent his first day on the job shows his capabilities for dealing with a full-fledged crisis.

Fewer than 24 hours after showing up for his first day at work—and fewer than 72 hours after being elected—Governor Higashikokubaru was forced to face a potential calamity that gave Miyazaki residents their first chance to see if the new governor was in over his head, still the same guy who whacked journalists with an umbrella, or the man who seemed to have learned from his mistakes and went back to university in his mid-40s to start from scratch.

He passed his first test in the public sector with flying colors. Miyazaki Prefecture is a largely agricultural area with a population of just 1.1 million people. The primary cash crops are vegetables, tropical fruit such as oranges and bananas, mushrooms, and sweet potatoes, which are often turned into an alcoholic beverage called shochu. Other enterprises include dairy farming and forestry.

Most important of all, it is the leading chicken production region in Japan.

That’s why it was an extremely serious matter when the virulent H5N1 strain of avian flu was confirmed in the prefecture two weeks ago, and 15,000 chickens were culled to prevent the spread of the disease. It grew more serious when the infection was found to be almost identical to the strain that caused an epidemic in China. And it became a calamity when, despite the best efforts of local officials to isolate and protect the local chicken stock, another outbreak of avian flu occurred before Higashikokubaru had finished sharpening the pencils in his new office.

Fortunately, he got off on the right foot–not only because of what he did, but also because of what he didn’t do. What he did was what any governor would have done. He visited the farm where the new outbreak occurred, consoled the local farmers, and exhorted everyone to make every effort to keep the infection from spreading.

What he didn’t do was appear to be a man in over his head, a show-biz personality playing at politician who panics at the first sign of trouble, or a man without a plan about how to handle the problem. Under the unforgiving eye of the television camera, the governor showed that he fully understood the gravity of the situation, knew what he was doing, and that the people could have faith that whatever he did, it would be the best course of action.

He had already outlined some of his initiatives at a press conference on Monday before being sworn in:

Higashi said at a press conference that he would scrap the system of calling for tenders from designated companies for public works projects and would introduce an online or mail bidding system as part of an open competitive bidding plan. He also said he planned to question all prefectural employees over whether they are keeping slush funds.
“As the prefecture is facing severe fiscal difficulties, I will cut the governor’s salary by 20 percent.”

His comments about the slush fund resonate very strongly in Kyushu, where Nagasaki Prefecture and Nagasaki City have been rocked by slush fund scandals so severe they’re more swamp than slush. The public employees of those jurisdictions connived with local businesses and had them bill for items that were never bought and pool the money. Said Nagasaki Governor Genjiro Kaneko at a news conference:

“At this point, I believe that there was no misuse of the money for personal purposes.”

While his optimism and faith in the government workers is admirable, it was misplaced. Little more than a week later, Kaneko found out that prefectural employees indeed used the money for personal purposes, such as buying golf clubs. In fact, the personnel department alone scarfed up 600,000 yen (about US$ 5,000) worth of instant ramen between 2001 and 2003. And the accountants are still trying to figure out why a local fisheries cooperative was given 2 million yen.

If you’re betting on form, put your money on the probability that Miyazaki has its own homegrown slush fund. Indeed, the election that Higashikokubaru won was necessitated by the arrest of his predecessor, Tadahiro Ando, in a bid-rigging scandal.

Most politicians in Japan are so dessicated they might as well have been raised in a human version of a poultry farm. Some of them behave as if they haven’t picked up a shovel in their lives, not to mention ever having had to wipe chicken dung off their shoes.

As he dealt with his first crisis, former funnyman Higashikokubaru came across as grounded, serious, in control—and best of all—able to strike just the right tone and speech level in his public statements. He’ll have to show his performance was no fluke. But if he can follow through on his fast start, it may prove to be a positive development outside Miyazaki as well.

Japan’s local governments don’t need any more boneless bureaucrats or dilettante celebrities in their executive offices. What they do need are men and women who are competent, clear-headed adults who put their hands to work on the task at hand instead of into the public till.

Japan’s celebrity politicians

Japanese television this morning was filled with wall-to-wall features on Sonomanma Higashi’s election as governor of Miyazaki Prefecture. (See yesterday’s post for more details.) He may not be the last person the media expected to see elected to an important government position, but his colorful background makes it safe to assume that he wasn’t within hailing distance of the top ten on their list, either.

But Higashikokubaru (his real name) is by no means the first celebrity to successfully cross over to politics in Japan. He’s just the next in a long line of performers, athletes, or otherwise well-known people to add “politician” to their list of accomplishments on their resume.

Many celebrities turned politician make a beeline for the House of Councilors, the Upper House of the Japanese Diet. The Upper House was created to act as a check on the House of Representatives, or Lower House, where the real power lies. The inaptly named Lower House has the sole authority to select the prime minister, set the budget, ratify treaties, and initiate legislation. The framers of Japan’s constitution seemed to want more mature people to serve as Upper House MPs—they serve fixed terms that are longer than those of their Lower House counterparts, and they have to be older to run for a seat.

That’s the way it is in theory, but that’s not how it turned out in practice. Perhaps because it so seldom exercises real power, the Upper House continues to attract people from outside politics and gives them a pulpit to espouse their pet causes, get free publicity, or both.

One was professional wrestler Antonio Inoki (more here), a very popular figure nationwide at the time of his election. Inoki, shown in the first photo, formed the Sports Peace Party (comprised primarily of Antonio Inoki), which later merged with the Democratic Socialists. He was known for his various holds, including the Reverse Indian Death Lock, marrying and divorcing Mitsuko Baisho, one of the most shapely Japanese women of her generation, and getting charged with tax evasion and election law violations. He still shows up on TV occasionally, often putting announcers in some painful wrestling hold or just whacking them outright.

Miyazaki’s New Governor: Has the reformer reformed himself?

While it was an American who said he would rather be governed by 500 people selected at random from the Boston telephone directory than the faculty of the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University, the Japanese electorate has given every indication over the years that they completely understand the concept.

The voters of Miyazaki Prefecture down in Kyushu demonstrated that once again on Sunday when they chose comedian Hideo Higashikokubaru, more popularly known by his stage name of Sonomanma Higashi, to serve as their new governor. The special election was held to fill the vacancy created after the previous governor, Tadahiro Ando, was arrested for his role in a bid-rigging scandal.

The new governor is no stranger to controversy himself. He was a protégé of comedian and television personality Beat Takeshi, who is also an award-winning film director known internationally by his original name of Takeshi Kitano. Higashi and several other budding comedians were once part of a group called the Takeshi Gundan, or roughly, Takeshi’s Legion.

The Gundan was more than just a school for comedy. The show business ties of several members were slender at best, and people noticed that all the members behaved as if they were Takeshi’s yojinbo, or enforcers. It may not be a coincidence that Takeshi often directs and appears in movies in which yakuza are either the main or primary characters.

Matsuri da! (6): Strange festivals

The Japanese are the first to admit that some of their festivals are unusual. They even have a word for them: kisai, or strange festivals. Books in Japan about festivals always include a section on kisai, and some are devoted entirely to a nationwide sampling of these oddities.

How common are the kisai? Well, just last Sunday in northern Kyushu, three smaller ones were held within driving distance of each other. Indeed, the streak of strangeness that runs through all three is enough to make one wonder not only what sort of people conceived them, but also about the people who’ve enjoyed them so much they’ve kept them alive for centuries.