“the structure of the Japan in which we now live was set [in the mid-1950s] and has continued ever since. It is this that led to the big tragedy” Oe Kenzaburo

“In the last century, Japan seems to have run through a whole cycle of the modern experience, from industrialisation to nihilistic militarism, from the frenzy of economic growth to the passivity of otaku culture. It has objectified and instrumentalised nature, equated progress with technological advances, and, in its postmodern phase, equated individual subjectivity with sundering of social bonds; but the confusion and anomie that beset its greatest minds in the early 20th century seems to have only deepened.” Pankaj Mishra, A Nation’s State

Since the Russo-Japanese war of 1905, Japan has been a major influence on the whole of Asia. Their victory over Russia, emboldened and inspired budding nationalist movements across the continent as far afield as Turkey. Never having directly been colonised by a Western power, the archipelago began its modernisation process early and continued to prosper. This prosperity and the weakness of their neighbours developed alongside growing arrogance and imperial ambitions which led to war in China and the annexation of Korea. Their Empire expanded dramatically until World War II when they were comprehensively defeated by the allied powers. Unlike in Germany, this grotesque Imperial overreach and consequent collapse never led to any feelings of collective guilt or soul-searching. It was like the cruel US firebombing of 70 Japanese cities and the nuclear obliteration of 2, absolved them of their own crimes and enabled their own sense of victimhood without any acknowledgment of the malevolent nature of their fallen Empire. This was partially a result of the farcical US-conducted War Crimes Tribunal in Tokyo which exonerated Emperor Hirohito; the equivalent in Germany would’ve been exonerating Adolf Hitler had he lived to see the Nuremberg Trials. With its extraordinary economic growth from the 1950s to the 1990s, Japan’s prestige was ensured through its GDP instead of militarily. Its position as an enthusiastic client state of the US has shielded it from the hostility of its neighbours who’ve never forgiven it for its crimes. Today it is still an extraordinary country; it is a relatively equal society with low unemployment and one of the lowest crime rates in the world but there are many issues which could prove to be its undoing in the future.

Why am I rambling on about Japan’s history? Well, because during my time there it seems like it’s the most harmonious society I’ve ever visited and perhaps it is but the dark omens are mounting. The rising tide of nationalism and increasing militarism of the right-wing Abe government are alarming signs in a country that is propped up by US power. It’s a sad state of affairs in the 21st century when it’s not unimaginable that real conflict could occur in the far East between a rising China and a declining Japan (add Korea into the mix, and it’s an even bigger mess). Massive debt, an ageing population and a weakened currency are problems that will only get worse. The nuclear meltdown at Fukushima is a catastrophe that is massively downplayed by the Japanese government and has highlighted the irresponsible nature of the state. With the connivance of a powerful nuclear lobby there has been a media blackout in Japan about the extent, consequences and the inadequate government response to the disaster (almost matched by an international corporate media silence about the ongoing effects). The on-going fall-out is already far in excess of that of Chernobyl and yet the exclusion zone around the plant is only half the size of that in Ukraine/Belarus despite the crisis there being quickly contained (in contrast, Fukushima continues to release tonnes of radioactive ‘cooling water’ into the ocean and is likely to remain dangerously unstable for 100 years). One hope from all this is the awakening of the Japanese public to the true nature of their government (there have already been big protests about it) and could prompt a new wave of activism, fostering positive change in a society that desperately needs a new, radical, optimistic direction. You wouldn’t know the Fukushima crisis was happening from spending a short time Tokyo though. I go there for a day before getting a night bus back to Osaka and take in some of the main sights. I expected the Greater Tokyo area (the biggest metropolitan area in the world) to be chaotic and ugly but as much as I dislike big cites, it still feels relatively calm compared to every other big city I’ve been to.

Shibuya crossing, Tokyo

Robots

Street in Shinjuku, Tokyo

View of the city from skyscraper in Shinkjuku

Tokyo sky-tree in the distance

The overnight bus from Tokyo to Osaka is one of the worst journeys I’ve ever had to endure. I believe I’d be on a ‘sleeper’ bus with ample room to at least move the seat back and stretch my legs but the conditions on the double decker bus are so cramped and uncomfortable I barely sleep. Added to the torture are bright lights that come on every time the driver decides to stop at a service station in the middle of the night, announcing this on the sound system. I don’t know what the fuck he’s going on about but he blathers on in a voice like a sleazy late night radio host for a few minutes each time. It’s as if he’s trying to placate a group of toddlers. He’s as irritating as it’s possible to be while remaining polite and violent fantasies go through my head as I silently seethe.

After getting some sleep in the same old-fashioned but comfortable hotel I stayed in two weeks ago my mood returns to its usual grumpy balance and I go to explore the busier streets of Osaka to enjoy the mellow strangeness of Japan for one last day.

Street performer, Osaka

Staples of Japanese culture: Manga, Anime and the fetishisation of schoolgirls

Noodle stall

Despite the same materialism and similar individualistic problems as the West, Japan is a much more civilised society. There’s a basic respect here that often seems absent in more ’emotionally open’ societies and the novelty of this is very attractive to me despite its own culturally unique imperfections. I hope the sayonara is a temporary one (the Goodbye Japan of the title of this post is not intended to be an a prophetic one on the existential status of the country!). I would be disappointed if I don’t get a chance to visit again in this lifetime.

Street in centre of Osaka

Rampant consumerism

Deer enjoying the morning sun

Just down the coast from Hiroshima, there’s a regular ferry service to the island of Miyajima, which takes just ten minutes. In the good weather, the island proves a good antidote to the sullen after-effects of the previous overcast day  of dwelling on the atomic bomb. There are deer and cheerful native tourists everywhere. As I walk toward the iconic Itsukushima shrine and its ‘floating’ torii gate, there are three young women sitting by the sea wall chatting to a curious deer and drinking tins of Asahi. I snap away at them pretending to only be interested in the deer and the sea-gate in the background. “Would you like me to take a photo of you with him”, one of them asks. It’s clear she’s a bit tipsy because she’s Japanese and has opened her mouth to a stranger in a non-commercial setting. “Eh, yes please” I lie, taking advantage of the opportunity to talk with them. It turns out they’re from Tokyo and are on holiday for a few days. Within a split second of hearing this information, a few scavenging-backpacker-mode thoughts go through my head. They could host me in Tokyo if I decide to go there. Maybe I could even sleep with one of them. Or all three of them, greatly enhancing fond memories of Japan. I realise my imagination is running away with itself and as the small talk fades and they return to the lilting staccato of their own language, I attempt to keep the conversation going with a complement, “Your English is very good”. She tells me she needs English for her job so I ask what her job is. She hesitates before nonsensically answering, “I don’t work for a Japanese company”. Either she’s had one Asahi too many or she’s a spy for a foreign agency but I take it as my cue to leave. The three of them all wave goodbye, as is the custom here and I plod on.

A traditional wedding (I think) 

Pagoda at Itsukushima shrine

Maybe it’s the tranquil beauty of the colourful autumn forests, but I can’t help feel this is a place better appreciated with someone else. I daresay it’s romantic. Still, even though I’ve spend far too much time in my own company recently, I enjoy the scenery. I can’t remember seeing a forest as lovely as this one.

At over 500m, Mount Misen is the highest point on the island and it doesn’t take long to reach the top. On the way down I pass through a temple with lots of little Buddha statues with wooly hats. I’ve no idea why they’ve got hats but whoever thought of it made good use of their time. I return to the busy little lanes near of the village and window-shop expensive, authentic hand-made food and souvenir shops before getting a ferry back to the mainland.

Top of Mount Misen

View of Hiroshima from the top

It’s not easy writing about a visit to Hiroshima’s Peace Memorial Museum. Everyone knows what happened on August 6th 1945 at 8.15 am. It has become part of our shared history and yet it’s still shocking to be at the place where it happened and learn in depth about its effects. In the drizzle, I pass the Genbaku Dome, the former city hall whose ruins are preserved as a ‘peace memorial’. At the museum, in the first room, there is a scaled down model of the city and the destruction wrought, with the location of the detonation represented as an orange ball (witnesses describe seeing the explosion as something like a small sun). In one instant 70,000 were killed and a further 70,000 were to die of fatal injuries (often torturous burns and mutilation) and radiation poisoning, meaning fatalities accounted for over half the population of the city. 70% of buildings were destroyed and many more damaged. The bomb was dropped by parachute and was only 3 meters long. The nuclear blast and heat-wave did most of the damage, followed by a ferocious firestorm which consumed everything in its path. Almost all life near the hypocenter was extinguished (one part of the exhibition displays part of the stone steps of the nearby bank where there is a ‘shadow’ left by a vaporized victim sitting there at the time). Testimonies from survivors describe hell on earth.

Model

In another room, there are exhibitions about the after-effects of the bomb and radiation poisoning. Of these, one of the most moving is the story of Sadako, a girl who was 2 years old at the time of the bomb. She lived a healthy life for nine years after surviving with no apparent injuries. She died at the age of 12 after a year-long battle with leukemia, which was caused by radiation exposure. When she was in hospital she learned of an ancient Japanese story which tells how anyone who completes a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish. In the hope of surviving, she completed over 1,000 tiny paper cranes before she died. The paper crane has become a symbol of peace since then.

Tiny paper cranes

In another part of the museum, there are photographs of shocked-looking ‘world leaders’ standing over the scaled down model of the city. There’s also a visitor’s book were people write their thoughts and I spend ten minutes putting pen to paper. Outside, there are a group of local survivors who sit with anti-nuclear banners. Japan being the only country to be a-bombed and have witnessed the horrors of nuclear weapons, has been stridently against their development and bulid-up around the world. This campaign has waned somewhat over the years along with the international Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. The memory of Hiroshima and Nagasaki with their combined total of almost a quarter of a million fatalities has dangerously eroded over time and that’s why this museum continues to be so important. Today there are nuclear weapons over 3,000 times more powerful than the one dropped on Hiroshima. Nine countries possess thousands of war-heads (mainly in the US and Russia). This insanity has led to some close shaves in the past few decades, the most infamous of which was in 1983, a couple of months after I was born, when a Soviet colonel, Stanislav Petrov, detected incoming ballistic missiles. He realized it was a false alarm and didn’t inform his superiors but if he had been doing his job by the book, he would have informed them that an attack was detected and they would have launched nuclear warheads at the United States in response. His actions prevented World War III and a nuclear winter.

Mary Robinson

A-bomb dome seen from the Peace Park

Peace Museum

Campaigners

The technology for the atomic bomb came about after years of research and work by the Manhattan Project, a secret government program. The researchers  and politicians couldn’t wait to try the bomb out on a pristine target; the five Japanese cities on the a-bomb list were untouched by US firebombing, which devastated other cities. The US government has never apologized for dropping two atomic bombs on Japan (and neither has Japan apologised for its massive crimes in Asia during the war but I’ll come to that in another post). The orthodox view and myths about the reason for dropping the bombs (that they were necessary to force Japan to surrender and to save the lives of millions in the planned US invasion of Japan) are still dominant in the minds of the US public today. The evidence points to another view; the bombs were dropped mainly for experimental purposes and to intimidate the Soviet Union which was about to enter the Pacific war. Japan had basically accepted defeat before August and was looking for a way out of the war which would maintain the sovereignty of the nation. The decision to bomb was rushed through despite the other alternatives, to ensure the unconditional surrender of Japan (more about all this in this excellent essay: Racing Towards the Abyss). For any sane, rational person, the indiscriminate barbarity of nuclear weapons is clear. The argument that they are a deterrent only and have prevented endless conventional war, ignores the fact that conventional war still happens and nuclear weapons are a real threat to the survival of our species. The need for total global disarmament ties in with need for social justice, a fair economic system and genuine peace.

Children’s memorial

After attending a seminar on testimonies from survivors in another part of the peace park, I ask a lady at the reception desk why there isn’t any campaign in Japan for the US to apologise for what they did. With typical Japanese politeness she replies, “Ah, it’s political. American and Japan are friends now”, and then goes on to say that young people in Japan love Western culture and have no interest in the past. It’s a predictable response but one that still leaves me secretly gobsmacked as I nod and feign understanding. The US government is the biggest risk to world peace and has used depleted uranium in Iraq (causing the cancer rates in Falujah to go through the roof). Without any remorse for their crimes, they continue to cause carnage. I’m subconsciously thinking all this as the lady gives me two tiny paper cranes in a little paper box as a present. I thank her and leave the peace park to explore some of the rest of the city.

Memorial potraying the chared body of a victim

Random woman in a manga costume

Today, Hiroshima is a pleasant modern city. With its remarkable recovery, it’s easy to see how distant the past must seem to young people. Hiroshima Castle is one of the highlights and I enjoy the views from the top as the sun sets. Around the castle everyday life continues as families take pictures of their kids in nearby parks and temples. As I walk around, the experience of the peace museum and park is still with me and I feel slightly emotional; it’s been a long day and a lot to take in. It’s one thing to know something at a distance; it’s another to see it up close and get a profound feel for the reality of it. I didn’t expect to be moved so much; I expected to feel a detached shock as I did at the Killing Fields in Cambodia but when you seriously contemplate it, the absolute evil and horror of an atomic bomb is more terrifying than anything else in the history of humanity.

Hiroshima Castle

View from the castle

A few days later, I get a train to what I think will be a good hitch-hiking spot outside the city. As I wait for the train, an elderly man is sitting beside me reading in the morning sunshine. After a while he asks me where I’m from and we get chatting. I ask him if he’s from Hiroshima. He tells me he is and that he was born in 1942, just three years old at the time of the bomb. Many of his family died. I’m a bit surprised about his direct honesty but welcome it. From the expression on his face, he knows that I know that this information is important. He has a kind, dignified face. The train comes and we both get on amidst other passengers. At the next stop he waves goodbye before getting off, with the same expressive, gentle smile. I wave back, grateful to have crossed paths with a survivor of one of the worst episodes in our history.

Kinkaku-ji

During the World War, Kyoto was on the list of 5 cities to be considered for the atomic bomb. The only reason it was taken off the list was because of the US Secretary of War, Henry Stimson, who had his honeymoon there, had witnessed its beauty and cultural importance. Such fortune, saved it and its 1600 temples from annihilation. My four days here is enough to see a good sample of these buddhist temples and shinto shrines. I’m lucky to find a kind couchsurfing host, Agathe from France, who also lends me her bike so I can tour the city as I please. Agathe is a student and fluent Japanese speaker who knows the culture well. She works at a hostel/temple part-time and gets me a discount on a meditation/tea-ceremony session with a Zen master. The Zen temple is stunning in its own simple way – I love the aesthetics and architecture and think to myself how great it would be to live in a place like this, at least for a while. The Zen master, leads us (a small group of tourists) through a 45 minute guided meditation session. In the serene environment he boasts about how he teaches meditation to rich CEOs and Goldman-Sachs executives. I consider questioning him about how he reconciles getting paid handsomely for making people calmer and more efficient at plundering and raping the planet with the core values of buddhism but decide against it as I know it wouldn’t end well and would ‘spoil’ the morning session (getting into an argument with a Zen master in his own place isn’t something I’d enjoy). I put him in the charlatan category in my head and enjoy living in the moment with the meditation, macha tea and lovely surroundings.

Zen

Meditation room

Matcha tea and rice crackers

Agathe

Capital of Japan for over a thousand years, much of Kyoto’s history has been preserved as a modern infrastructure has developed over the past century. It’s as calm as I expected it to be, especially outside the city centre in the area I stay; it’s not yet the peak season when the surrounding forests’ foliage turn completely red. There are still a lot of people, mainly Japanese tourists and school children, visiting the temples but there’s a pleasant atmosphere. Although chilly, the weather is mostly fine and cycling around the old streets in between temples fills my time during the days. Arashiyama bamboo grove and nearby temples, just outside the city, is one of the highlights of Kyoto and it’s the busiest place I visit. I hate to sound like a tour guide but with all this on its doorstep along with temples you could explore for the rest of your life, Kyoto has to be one of the most liveable and interesting cities in the world.

Kitano-Tenmangu shrine

Arashiyama bamboo grove

Above the city near Arashiyama

Inari shrine

View of the city from Inari