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 Smith
(SmithS@EastWestCenter.org) is a
researcher at the East-West Center. Brad
Glosserman (bradg@hawaii.rr.com) is
executive director at the Pacific Forum CSIS.
Opinions expressed are those of the authors.
