Open debate under threat in Japan
By SHEILA A. SMITH and
BRAD GLOSSERMAN
Japan is debating its place in the
region and the world. Or so it seems. There is no mistaking the attempt by
some Japanese officials and intellectuals — from Prime Minister Junichiro
Koizumi on down — to redefine Tokyo's international role. That makes it
critical that there be tolerance of free and open discussion of issues.
This process is behind the prime
minister's controversial visits to Yasukuni Shrine, the historic
deployment of the Self-Defense Forces to aid coalition forces in
Afghanistan and Iraq, and the redefinition of the US-Japan security
alliance that has been laid out in various documents, most notably the
"2+2 meetings" of the two allies' leading foreign-policy and
defense officials.
Japan's new debate on its postwar
history (not to mention the more politically sensitive topic of its prewar
history) and the broad range of questions about the institutions and the
practices that have accompanied that notion of a postwar Japan are, for
many, well overdue. But they are also for many — inside and outside Japan
— a topic fraught with social tension and contest.
This debate shakes the core
understandings of several generations within Japan, and of an
international audience that is nervous about where and how its outcome
might affect the rest of the world. Japan's debate over its past and its
prescriptions for a new foundation for its foreign policy are deeply
intertwined. And this discussion will inevitably bare deep social scars
and involve heated emotions.
We have great faith in Japanese
democracy and believe this debate is for the good of the country. We
believe that this discussion will strengthen the foundation of Japanese
foreign policy and the US-Japan alliance.
But we are also concerned by recent
developments. Last week, the Japan Institute for International Affairs (JIIA),
a Foreign Ministry-managed think-tank, suspended publication of a
commentary series that focused on Japanese foreign policy.
The suspension followed criticism of
its contents by prominent journalist Yoshihisa Komori, who took offense at
such comments as "Japan-watchers [in foreign countries] increasingly
blame the deterioration in Sino-Japanese relations on Japan, describing
Japan's China policies as mindless and provocative, self-righteous and
gratuitous. But in the country itself, there is scant awareness that Japan
is perceived [by some countries] as being nationalistic, militaristic or
hawkish," and "Critics see in Prime Minister Koizumi's stance on
Yasukuni a lack of repentance for past imperial aggression in Asia, about
which Japan has long been silent."
The Ministry of Foreign Affairs has,
since the 1970s, played a key role in providing English- language
materials, written by Japanese, that would otherwise be unavailable to an
international audience. It publishes Japan Echo, which compiles and
translates into English excerpts of articles in leading Japanese journals
such as Bungei Shunju, Chuokoron, and Shokun. It also publishes
Gaiko Forum, a journal that focuses exclusively on Japan's foreign policy. Thus
JIIA's new initiative is part of a long-standing effort to bring the range
of Japanese views and insights to a growing and increasingly interested
international audience.
Behind this incident are old feuds,
intellectual antagonisms that are reflected in labels such as
"progressive left" and "conservative right". These
markers of the so-called 1955 system (after the year the Liberal
Democratic Party, or LDP, was formed) are used today as accusations to
denounce individuals rather than to look at the merits of their arguments.
At precisely the time when the debate over ideas in Japan is so fluid,
this lingering impulse to shut down the opposition must be resisted.
Indeed, what was so encouraging about the JIIA commentary series was that
it moved away from the "progressive left-conservative right"
dichotomy and brought a fresh analytical perspective to the conversation.
All three protagonists in this story
have spent much of their careers abroad, and they have been active
participants in shaping the debate on Japan's foreign policy.
The president of JIIA, Yukio Sato,
Japan's former ambassador to the United Nations, is one of the country's
leading diplomats, and a policy intellectual who has published and
actively participated in international relations debates in Japan, Europe
and the United States. The editor of the commentary series, Masaru
Tamamoto, is an internationally respected academic and essayist on Japan's
domestic debates over its national identity and its role in the world. The
critic, Yoshihisa Komori, is an outspoken senior journalist for the Sankei
Shimbun who has served in Washington and Beijing and who has in the past
demonstrated sensitivity to international criticism of Japan's new debate
over its history. Yet the three have very different takes on Japan's
national-identity debate.
This incident has provoked heated
debate among Japan watchers and has occasioned provocative statements
suggesting that it recalls earlier periods of Japanese history. Inside
Japan, however, commentary on websites has taken Komori's criticism to
heart. Sato has formally responded to his critic in the Sankei, and
suspended publication until he revamps the editorial procedures for the
JIIA series.
For now, criticism that JIIA should
not be producing material that is perceived as critical of Japan seems to
have held the day. But the sensitivities that prompted the suspension of
JIIA's online commentary deserve greater attention. Is this an isolated
event prompted by long-standing intellectual antagonisms? Is it a
difference of opinion over the legitimacy of a government-sponsored
research institute hosting a forum for contending perspectives over
Japan's foreign policy? Or is this a sign of an increasingly intolerant
political climate within Japan?
The suspension of the JIIA commentary
is troubling because it provides fodder for those who suggest that
unaccountable, behind-the-scenes forces are shaping Japan's current
foreign-policy debate. An editorial criticizing a think-tank's commentary
would not, in most democratic societies, be cause for shutting down the
commentary and a public apology by its director. Rather, it would be cause
for more debate backed, one would hope, by reasoned consideration of
alternative viewpoints. The timing of this incident is important, however.
At precisely the time when open
debate over questions such as Yasukuni Shrine visits, constitutional
revision, and Japan's foreign-policy priorities would be most welcome,
there seems to be a growing hesitancy in the public discourse.
Sensitivities over the public mood in Japan, coupled with the demonstrated
behavior of some rather murky and unaccountable self-proclaimed
"right wing" forces, are creating limitations for those whose
participation in the public-policy debate is vital — Japan's political
leaders and foreign-policy practitioners.
More disturbing than the criticism of
JIIA are the "incidents" in recent years that imply threats and
sanction — even violence — against individuals with public responsibility
for articulating Japan's foreign-policy goals. In September 2003, Ministry
of Foreign Affairs official Hitoshi Tanaka, then responsible for Japan's
negotiations with North Korea, received death threats after Koizumi's
visit to Pyongyang failed to bring home all of the Japanese citizens
abducted by North Korea. Shintaro Ishihara, Tokyo's controversial
governor, told reporters that this death threat was "only
natural", suggesting that the threat of violence against a public
official was tolerable. Surprisingly, there was no rebuttal to Ishihara
from Japan's political leadership.
Last week, the home and office of
Koichi Kato were burned by a self-proclaimed "rightist" after
criticism by the politician, a longtime advocate of closer Japan-China
relations, of the prime minister's visits to Yasukuni. Fortunately, Kato's
90-year-old mother was not home. Yet again, Japan's top government leaders
were silent. This silence does not befit a democracy and undermines
Tokyo's moral authority. Worse, it feeds the exaggerated claims of critics
who fear that the country has not learned lessons from its prewar
experience.
Next month, the LDP will hold its
presidential election. Koizumi's successor as president of the party and,
hence, prime minister of the country will take on the challenge of
crafting and leading Japan's future. Leadership carries with it the
responsibility of participating in and shaping a public-policy agenda. It
will be incumbent upon the new prime minister, and indeed upon all of
Japan's political leaders, to draw the line between, on the one hand,
vigorous and open debate over the ideas and principles that will shape the
future and, on the other, a debate that carries with it the threat of
public rebuke — or worse yet, violence. They must stand up for the norms
of acceptable behavior in a modern democracy.
Silence in the face of intolerance
and intimidation will only erode confidence in Japan's democracy, most
importantly within Japan but also beyond its borders. Japan's government
leaders must speak out against potential censorship and implicit threats
against those who hold divergent viewpoints, and must condemn without
reservation politically motivated violence.
© Sheila A. Smith & Brad Glosserrman 2006
for Pacific Forum CSIS. All
rights reserved
Editor's note: Sheila Smith (SmithS@EastWestCenter.org) is a
researcher at the East-West Center, and Brad Glosserman (bradg@hawaii.rr.com)
is executive director at the Pacific Forum CSIS. I'd like
to express my gratitude to Brad for his kind permission to republish the above article here in
Eyes on Japan.
This page last updated 2008-06-16
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