Tracking Koike's Ambition 1

Tracking Koike's Ambition 1

This will be a blog within the blog. Japan is in election mode (again) and the stakes are quite high. PM Abe, seeking to take advantage of a dishevelled opposition, called a snap election last week. It has almost immediately backfired for him. Or maybe not. 

The opposition parties have held all the attention this past week, not in the least, the machinations of Koike Yuriko, presently Governor of Tokyo but with clear ambition to take up the leading role of Prime Minister of Japan. One day. 

On Thursday last week, I was interviewed by Eleni Psaltis of Australia's ABC NewsRadio for her Japan podcast. I feared that by the end of the interview, events had moved so quickly that the content might be immediately dated. Having thought about it, and given the ambition of Koike, I have decided to set aside some time each day to try and pen some observations. 

I have observed Koike's political career since her entree in the early 1990s, drafted by Hosokawa for one of the new opposition parties. Her strategy last year to leave the national political arena to run (and win) the governorship of Tokyo can only be seen in the context of her prime ministerial ambitions. The lure of being Governor at the time of the Tokyo Olympics in 2020 is surely quite strong; and yet, will the sniff of prime ministerial opportunity see her expend political capital (as governor) for naked ambition?

She has seen electoral success at the Tokyo metropolitan level, candidates associated with her group enjoyed resounding success at the elections in July. Can this be replicated at the national level? Koike is not 'populist' in the sense of the word as it is parlayed at present: she is not drawing on a block of disaffected, underemployed, hyper-nationalist people in the way Trump or Pauline Hanson exploit. She is conservative, in the style of Theresa May, perhaps, or Julie Bishop, in Australia, but not so ideological that she couldn't change her mind on policies as the breeze determines. A member of the right-wing nationalist Nippon Kaigi (a group with similar influence in Australia would be the IPA), she has supported constitutional reform, stronger militarisation and resumption of nuclear power plants...and yet, her first policy announcement last week included a policy of fading out nuclear power plants. 

Koike's party is the 'Kibo no To', Party of Hope. The ailing Minshinto, the Democrats, have effectively disbanded, encouraging members to stand with Koike's party. 

But not so fast.

Some Democrat Party members have criticised fairly new leader Maehara for dissolving the party this way; for Maehara, it was an option seen as 'the only way to defeat the Abe Govt'. In the last 48 hours though, Koike has made it clear that she has a list of people who will be suitable to join the party and a list considered 'too liberal'. In his haste for a Faustian bargain (for Maehara, a chance at riding Koike's popularity wave, for Koike, a national network of candidates where previously she has been limited to the Tokyo region) Maehara may well have created a schism too divided to be effective. 

There will be much to tease out until the night of the election, three weeks from today, 22 October. In addition to having followed Koike's career for many years, this work is the subject of a grant application which will seek to understand the environment in which women in Japan engage in politics at the national level. If journalists write the first draft of history, I suppose academic bloggers writing daily posts might well be trying to imitate that craft while waiting for the theoretical and analytical overlay to kick in. 

These posts will, by their very nature, be observational for the time being. Here, I simply want to record this election campaign as it unfolds; thinking out loud and posting at the same time. 

It seems like a moment is here. And it is worth watching at close quarters. 

Gender and security: A Tokyo Symposium

Gender and security in the shadow of Hiroshima and Nagasaki

For many of us, our gender and our security (broadly defined) affect, influence and shape our lives. Daily. This is so in Japan as well. But two months each year in particular bring these issues into focus: May and August. 

In May, specifically 3 May, Japan commemorates, via public holiday, the promulgation of the 1947 Constitution, the postwar constitution drafted by the Allied forces which includes the famous Peace clause, Article 9, renouncing war and maintenance of war materiel. This year, the 70th anniversary included a special exhibition at the National Archives, where visitors got to see the original constitution, albeit behind a glass case. 

In August each year, we are reminded in the most forceful of ways of devastation caused by the dropping of atomic bombs on 6 August (Hiroshima) and 9 August (Nagasaki) and 15 August, the declaration of the end of the Pacific War and World War Two. 

For much of the time I have been a student of Japan, it was something of an example of how an economically strong country did not have to necessarily maintain an equally large military to demonstrate power as defined in most international relations textbooks. And while the merits or otherwise of Article 9 of the Constitution have always been contested, in more recent times, Prime Minister Abe has ramped up his campaign to restore Japan's military legitimacy by announcing an amendment to Article 9 which will recognise what is currently referred to as the Self-Defence Force, effectively the army, navy, and air force. Abe cites growing military tensions in the region, notably North Korea and China. Of course, if you build arms to deter arms, all you do is feed the spiral into infinite militarisation. It is an illogical path to 'peace'.

Japan's allies (including Australia) are supportive of the strengthening of arms. Commentators and analysts outside Japan speak of an inevitability of Japan re-arming and so the world ought to adjust to this reality.

Or not.

And it is in this context that symposia and like gatherings that oppose the re-arming of Japan and amendments to the Constitution are on the increase. Domestic opposition to a remilitarised, or a norm-securitised Japan, is subject of one of my ongoing research projects while based here in Tokyo. This post focusses on a symposium I attended recently, 'Security legislation and Gender', at Meiji University, 5 August 2017.

Ohwaki Masako

It was a full program, five presentations by specialists in their fields (four women, one man) and a special presentation by lawyer and former upper house member for the Japan Socialist Party, Ohwaki Masako. 

Hosted by the Japan Society of Gender and Law, the presentations had a strong legal focus. The theme was 'without peace there is no equality, without equality there is no peace'. It was attended by about 400 people, mostly women, a number of whom I have seen at similar events around Tokyo in the last year or so. There is a strong, persistent movement for peace. 

Each presentation was supplemented with detailed notes which allowed for time afterwards to read and reflect on the cases presented. 

Presentations examined the constitution and the rights it gave women at the time and the importance for women to ensure these rights are not undermined through amendments. The first paper was wide-ranging and in dealing with these constitutional issues also drew on examples of rape as a weapon in war, and what militarisation might imply. 

Another of the papers asked the question why so many conservative party women appeared to come out in support of greater militarisation. Timely given that Japan's second female defence minister Inada had resigned just the week before (resigned before she was pushed according to reports). 

Perhaps the most compelling presentation though was that given by former parliamentarian Ohwaki who introduced herself as the only member of the panel with wartime experience and memories. She is 82. Her parliamentary work included overseas delegations for peace, she gave examples though her working life of her commitment to securing peace both domestically and internationally. 

There is something compelling about the stories our elders tell about war, and peace. In Japan, during August and now increasingly so, Hiroshima and Nagasaki survivors, dwindling in numbers (their average age is estimated at 81) speak out about the horrors, their memories while they can. They implore the current generation of political leaders to rethink the path to militarisation, to re-arming. 

One can't help but come away from these symposia with a renewed sense of endeavour, to teach for peace to aim for it. The women at this symposium,both on the stage and in the audience, show they continue to push for it in spite of the pressure from Japan's government. 


It is a movement worth participating in. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a lot of my work I reflect on the words of Kant and Arendt. In her reflections on violence Hannah Arendt in the New York Review of Books (1969) noted: 

"The technical development of implements of violence has now reached the point where no political goal could conceivably correspond to their destructive potential or justify their actual use in armed conflict". 


And because we are in the week of reflecting on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the end of the Pacific War, and because we seem to need reminding, Magnum photographer Rene Burri on the Nuclear Highway has captured some compelling images here. 

We're almost ready to relaunch

A note on what is happening

Later this month, I will mark a year since I left Australia to come to Japan to spend more time on my research and teaching in Japanese politics and security. It has been a most interesting year. There have been a number of times when I have been inclined to post something on the issue of the day in Australian higher education as well. 

I have deferred my views however, sandbagged for a year as it were lest my concerns be viewed through the (soggy) prism of sour grapes. Nothing could be further from the truth. I feel very fortunate to be in the position I am in at present at a university in Tokyo which has a strong commitment to education and social responsibility. Anything I might have to say in reflection on the Australian higher ed system will be just that, reflection (based on some twenty years or so experience, for whatever that is worth these days). 

Let's just see how that goes. 

In the meantime, I have settled on ideas for continuing this blog while in Tokyo (you might be already familiar with my other main blog, psephy's pic of the day, where I post daily observations with photos, part of the #project365 series). 

Having spent much of this past year getting used to a new higher ed system (not that different really), new courses (all in Japanese), new students, new colleagues, I found myself with not quite as much time to write as I would have liked (nor that I would have expected). 

I have several projects on the go and new ones starting. 

1) There is my main project of Japanese security and the East Asian security community project. Living and working here for the past year has refreshed this project quite considerably. 

2) The little project that turned into a monster (but a good one): the interesting things that went on between Australia and Japan in the late 19th century. This project will start taking shape (in the form of a book) this year. 

3) I have also advanced my work on whaling and Japan-Australia relations quite considerably. That will take some solid form this year.

4) I have commenced a new project on examining the history and culture of surfing in Japan. This is one of those accidentally fortuitous projects that happen along from time to time (much in the way project 2 above was, and remains). I had decided to undertake an interesting 'side project' while in Japan, to take me out of the classroom and get me out and about. A book to write when...I wasn't writing books. I settled on surfing because I have a background as a surfer, growing up in the vicinity of beaches and swimming before I could walk (or so goes the family lore). Turned out that the International Olympic Committee determined that surfing would be one of the demonstrator sports at the 2020 games in Tokyo! Now I have a real reason to get on with it. 

5) This year will shape up as the year I properly tackle my long-held interest in women in politics in Japan. I have spent much of this year observing and note-taking and I am formulating my approach. I'm looking forward to that. 

All of these projects are of course overlaid with my ongoing work in political philosophy, in particular, reading Hannah Arendt and Kant. The more I read, the more interesting life gets. 

I will be making every effort to return to weekly posts on this blog with a view to observing and analysing the political events of the week from a Tokyo perspective. Naturally, that will include Japanese politics, but also Australian as well as other aspects as seem necessary. 

Sunday night might be the night: looking back on the week as well as anticipating what is coming. Starting time will be April: it is the new academic year and seems like a good time to reacquaint oneself with the habit of writing. (I'm also returning to Australia for the next two weeks, for a bit of a break but also to present a paper on surfing in Japan at a symposium on the Gold Coast...how life turns.)

So thank you for your patience, but we are almost ready to relaunch and ready to again offer a small contribution to the ever-growing blog-post world. 

My apologies and thanks in equal measure. 

5 March 2017. Tokyo.

Interregnum

Interregnum: to a room with a view

Yes, a big word. But I needed a big word for what has been a big break on this blog. I've been busy over at project 365 (psephyspix.blogspot.com.au) on a daily basis, sometimes bordering on things political but not to the extent I should have been. 

The last time I posted, there was a degree of despair at the Australian higher education system. After a period away o combined study and long service leave, one had hoped to return refreshed and with new promise. 

It didn't happen. Despite my best efforts. Perhaps it was the moment that I was turned down to start up a tai chi group on campus for being 'exclusionist' or the ongoing bureaucratisation of academic autonomy and professional respect...hard to know just which piece of straw broke this camel's back. 

Then, one day, an incoming email offered a complete change. A big step. But here I am.  

A Japanese university, Musashino University in Tokyo, offered me a permanent position in the Department of Political Science. I have time to teach, time to read, time to think.

And time to write. 

It seems like the right time to start writing again. 

The actual view from my actual room at work. A port on Tokyo Bay.

There'll be more regular posts and the ideas start to flow again.





 

War and memory

War and memory: reflections on a week

I teach about war and memory. I work in the area of International Security, Japanese politics and history and Australian politics and history. There is an intersection, the place where all the venn diagram circles meet and that tends to happen around Anzac Day. 

When I started my studies about Japan, I really didn't imagine I would end up doing so much work on the topics of war and memory. But it is important.

Our lecture images

Last week's lecture in my course about Japan was just about this topic. It coincided with the week when one large supermarket chain, --OK, Woolworths-- was pilloried for launching a marketing campaign which many considered crossed a line in exploiting images of Gallipoli and its marketing slogan. 

I put it next to a Gold Coast landmark covered in poppies made by local schoolchildren. The poppies were recycled and reshaped bottles. The response to the poppies was positive; the ad campaign...negative. 

When I asked students to articulate the differences, it would be fair to say that beyond the idea of 'it's just wrong' (the ad), the class found it challenging. 

Coincidentally, I saw a play today, called Brisbane, about Brisbane in 1942, perhaps the closest this city came to war. Plenty of talk about 'yanks' and 'japs' and Curtin sending prostitutes to Brisbane to save the good girls of the town. It was mightily uncomfortable in places.

The same thing arises when we talk about Japan. The soldiers who perpetrated horrendous acts of torture versus the victims of Tokyo firebombing and Hiroshima and Nagasaki atomic bombings. Japan as aggressor versus Japan as victim. It is a dichotomy that underpins much of contemporary Japan: those who oppose changes to the constitution to permit forces, versus the present prime minister and his supporters who would seek to re-arm Japan. 

The issue came to a bit of a head today, albeit on twitter. A sports journalist on SBS was sacked today, publicly, on twitter for making comments contrary to the Anzac story, our Anzac 'memory'. His comments referred to the bombs dropping on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and included a picture from the Hiroshima blast, one of a person's shadow on the stairs of a bank. 

I've been troubled by the twitter incident for a few reasons. The journalist's twitter bio indicated he had some connection with Japan. I can kind of understand where he was coming from then. Visiting Hiroshima Peace Park and Museum two decades ago, and speaking with Aust POWs since, was formative in my career as an academic and finding ways to ensure this kind of thing should never happen again. In introducing related topics to my students, I speak to them of the impact visiting this city has had on my work and career. 

It doesn't mean I ignore the atrocities that happened in the name of the Japanese state (and the Emperor). War is atrocious. I've listened to former soldiers and POWs speak of it this way. I've heard them say it should never happen again. I heed their experience. I've also spoken over the years with victims of the atomic bombings--those who lived for years with the injuries and sickness, those who nursed those who were sick, those who lost family. I've also spoken with people who survived the Tokyo bombings. These experiences have taught me much and compelled me to understand human nature, the human condition that seems to sometimes struggle with what is right and what is wrong; what is history and what is memory? It is why I read Kant and Arendt. I'm still trying to understand. 

One of the places where some serious scholarship goes on is at Japan Focus. Some years ago, they published an article on Hiroshima, especially its images by elin o'Hara slavic. I was reminded of it today when the image of the Hiroshima stairs was tweeted by the now former-SBS journalist. I saw the stairs at the museum, I recalled it being the shadow of a man sitting on the stairs, the journalist said it was schoolchildren, another report suggested it was a woman waiting for the bank to open...

Memory.

War.

I understand the journalist wanted to temper the Anzac memory with what he saw as another kind of truth about war. I was surprised at the degree of opprobrium which rained down on twitter. I was also interested in the way others rallied in support. I'm sure it will be Storified somewhere. 

I don't think he deserved to be sacked. War and its memories--real, or constructed; fact or mythology--are always contentious. But we need to talk about them. Not just as history, as I have learned. But from our elders. I'm yet to meet one who lived through a war who wants to go through it all again. 

It's probably no coincidence that both Prime Ministers Abbott and Abe are children of the post WW2 era and appear to want to lead their respective countries back down a glorified war path. We need to sort our memory from myth. Sometimes a truth is unpleasant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This post is written as a brief response to events of the past week: poppies and ads, my lectures, Anzac Day, a play and a twitter storm. I continue to work on these issues in greater depth as part of my research and teaching and publish in peer-reviewed journals. I have a couple of book manuscripts in draft that address these questions as well. It never really goes away. 

On ending the death penalty, everywhere

Is there a right to decide to kill another person?

I was initially surprised to learn of Kant's support of capital punishment and much has been written about that. My other great influence, Hannah Arendt's views were informed by the horrors of World War Two. I am caught traversing their thinking.

I have written previously in this blog how transformative my time working as a senator's staffer was as far as influencing my present career direction. Seeing politics working 'from the inside' drove me to ask questions that hadn't been in textbooks or in the media. It tentatively set me on the philosophical path as I wondered and marvelled at the very 'rawness' of human nature as it unfolded before my hitherto world-weary, yet clearly still naive, self. Naive to the blunt machinations of power as played out in the corridors of Parliament House. I'm still seeking, if not answers, then explanations.

I was employed initially for a period of six weeks although it ended up being two and a half years in the end. Along the way, there was a media roller coaster, protective/defensive mechanisms, politics good and bad, Telstra and so on. But I haven't said much about that first task, the reason I was employed--researching and writing a speech on one of the Senator's passionate causes: the International Transfer of Prisoners Treaty legislation. It has come to mind as we are bombarded daily by the fate of two of the so-called Bali 9, Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran who, as I write, sit in cells on an island awaiting, and waiting, execution. By rifle. Awful.

For a first assignment as researcher/speechwriter this was a challenge. I believed myself sufficiently cosmopolitan to be against the death penalty as a general rule. Just prior to my joining the office, the Parliament had debated euthanasia legislation. Euthanasia was something I could support. I was disappointed it was defeated at the time. My now boss, was one of the parliamentarians, in a conscience vote, who voted against it. His speech for that was one I was to read to begin to develop my craft as speechwriter. I recall thinking at the time, glad I didn't have to write that--something I couldn't agree with. 

Indeed, it was one of those questions I had to often ask: is my writing the speech merely a job I must do regardless of my view? Did I need to have a shared view in order to write the right speech? Could I have written the euthanasia speech? It remained hypothetical but planted a seed of challenging my conscience which continues today in my work.

Back to that first job though. What was this about and why the boss's particular passion? He wanted me to draft a speech which would support the exchange of prisoners, returning Australians to jails in Australia from jails overseas. It was largely aimed at Australians on drugs charges, facing life imprisonment or in some cases, the death penalty. And mostly in Asian countries. 

I recall as a university student, the plight of Australian pair Kevin Barlow and Brian Chambers, convicted drug traffickers, hanged in Malaysia in 1986. It was big news at the time. I was probably of the view at the time that although it went against my opposition to execution in general, perhaps it is not for us to interfere in the law of other states. It was an uneasy position but...

Five years later, in the early 1990s when I worked in the Department of Foreign Affairs, I was to learn quietly that one of my colleagues in the same branch had in fact been one of the consular officials in Malaysia at the time. It had a major impact on him personally and my chance to 'see the other side' effectively had a profound impact on my thinking too.  

Back to the days in the office of drafting the speech. Let's just say that while my views weren't rock solid, I initially took a little persuasion to come around to the Senator's thinking. A little bit of research, a little bit of discussion, a little bit of recollection...I met and spoke with people who had returned to Australia under less formal agreements. Their rehabilitation was real.

It didn't take long for me to review my 'do the crime, do the time' position, in flagrant contradiction I suppose of my strong anti-execution views. Likewise, were not the Senator and I in different ways, contradicting a base logic in our opposing views of euthanasia? Who chooses when and how a person's life is to end? 

Many of these thoughts and memories and challenges have misted through my mind these last few weeks. Could not Chan and Sukumaran (and the remaining Bali 9) be transferred home under the legislation (which eventually passed)? Turns out, Indonesia is not a signatory (some 60 or so countries have signed). More work needs to be done. I join with many in the public sphere who argue that Chan and Sukumaran have rehabilitated and taking their lives by firing squad will simply be a waste. To watch the abuse of force and trumped up securitisation of this matter as the two were transferred simply defied commonsense. It is yet another example of nations contriving an overt security environment where one doesn't exist, for domestic political gain. And yes, I am critical of the Australian Governments of recent history for this too. 

It is not just Indonesia as a nation in Australia's orbit which continues to use the death penalty. Japan and the United States of course also persist with the death penalty. 

There ought to be a moratorium, with a view to a total ban. It occurred to me today that a moratorium, like that in my other area of research, whaling, might go part of the way to drawing to a close such brutal practices of another era. (There is much more work to be done there though.) 

In that speech I wrote eighteen years ago, we appealed to humanitarian issues and people's ability to rehabilitate and rebuild. I've also learnt, read and thought much more about life in those eighteen years since. I simply cannot reconcile the ongoing use of the death penalty under any circumstances. I also hope for the mercy of these two young men. 

I shall continue to reflect on Kant the man who gave us Perpetual Peace and his view of the justification of public execution. Time and tide. Time. 

~~~~~

Postscript: A copy of that speech from May 1997, can be found here. 

And as a second postscript, the senator not long after the euthanasia debate, was diagnosed with terminal cancer, a particularly aggressive and painful one which contributed to his death some years later. One night, in the office between divisions when we used to talk about many things, I asked him not long after the cancer started eating away and the pain and illness began to take over, how would he vote if the euthanasia legislation returned to the Senate? It changed his mind, he said he'd vote for it. Time. Tide. Time...we don't always have.

Our mental health, we need to take care

...we need to be mindful.

To expect truth to come from thinking signifies that we mistake the need to think with the urge to know

Arendt, The Life of the Mind, 1971. 

Welcome back to Psephy's~ologies. That's more a welcome for me than the readers I guess. I've been working a lot behind the scenes with this one--working on Hannah Arendt, updating the manuscript on the Japan-Australia security community book, lots more on our friend Watanabe from the 1893 and all that blog, and I'm soon to launch the whaling story. 

There has been much to write about politics too. We've had a change of government here in Queensland. Let's hope the commitment to a new and different politics of integrity is carried through. 

And, I'm about to recommence the teaching year and one of the purposes of this blog is to walk through all things Japan, security, university with students who take my classes. Indeed, there is so much to write, to think about, to post...and as much as the daily #project365 is a great recreational blog, the time has come to restart the writing here. 

For all the many objectives this particular blog has, another one is for those tweeting moments when, try as I might, I simply cannot tweet in 140 characters a suitable response to something I have heard on the radio. 

This morning, I listened, as usual, to Background Briefing, a Sunday morning staple for me on Radio National. Today was on mental illness, psychological injury and the toll it is taking on our workplaces. I drafted a tweet or three in tentative response, but I didn't send them. It needed a more thoughtful, less ambiguous response from me. 

The program identified mental heath issues in fields such as the law and in NGOs. It mentioned the expression 'toxic workplace'. It could have also looked at universities, for there is much there to consider as well. It made me think about why it is we are finding ourselves in this situation. 

It is the cookie-cutter phenomenon. It is a senior management imperative to knead and press everyone in the workplace into looking the same, sounding the same, producing the same things at the same rate. Universities don't actually function well when you try and apply a desiccated version of Taylorism. It has, in recent years, cost my friends and colleagues their jobs, and, tragically in some cases, their lives. When I hear programs such as today's Background Briefing, I think of them. I think about them and wish I could do more. 

But of course, I am one of the management annoyances, I am an old-school academic, with a view of education and scholarship that is vocational, intangible and a value that shall not be measured in dollars. My research doesn't bring in big dollars, I don't need them and it would be a contrivance to even pretend to do so. And yet, I'd like to think my work enriches our knowledge, our shared histories, it allows me to teach students a little more about ourselves that we knew before. I might get to publish an article or two about it, perhaps a book. It is research I do on my holidays, on leave, at 2.00am or on a Sunday. It just happens. 

Across the sector, managements are boring through academic staff, tossing them aside because they fail to fit that cookie-cutter. We have so many metrics against which our performance is measured that I suspect there are metrics to measure the metrics...oh, yes, the KPIs against which senior managements are awarded bonuses. 

The sorts of things that are happening in our higher education sector for short term gain will have long term consequences. Indeed, I doubt there will be a higher ed sector of any real meaning in the future. So many of us in professional vocations--my friends and colleagues in law, health, primary and secondary education, any of the many strands of public service--are feeling the effects of the neo-liberal putsch of the last two or three decades. We are being pushed to levels of stress and, as my doctor once made the important distinction, "distress" over matters that simply cannot and should not be quantified. We are forgetting our reasons for just 'being'. Or if we are trying to 'be', we are cowered or punished for it.

This is a sector by and large turning on itself, chewing on itself, swallowing itself and regurgitating the unspent. Like a dog, many of us have little choice but to return to eat it up and so the cycle begins again. 

So much of what I heard in today's program could be said about the university sector. 

I hope, ultimately, that I am wrong. I hope that one day, universities can return to be places of higher learning, experiments, challenges and failures, and all without fear or favour. Right now, for those without favour, there is much to fear and we shall all suffer for that. Those of us who choose 'public service' do so for all sorts of reasons. Many more reasons than you will find in a packet of Arnotts Family Assorted. The cookie-cutter just won't cut it.

When all the efficiencies have been dividended (as is the current predilection of those who pull the budget strings) there will be nothing but a dry husk left. We will be the poorer for it. And I'm hoping for a much more pithy epitaph than 'I told you so'.