Japan at the Millennium: Joining Past and Future (review)

The book is a collection of research studies by nine scholars, six of whom are connected to University of British Columbia, whose Centre for Japanese Research is the most vigorous in the country. The problem of corralling them seems the same as for conference papers, where participants generally ignore the announced theme, and just write about what they are working on.

To unify them, the editor, David W. Edgington, introduces the idea that Japan has preserved much of its tradition while adapting to the modern world since 1868. This is not new: Japanese since 1868 have been aware of this problem at the several levels of practice, policy formulation, and theorizing about the character of the nation, the last of which is an unfruitful study.

All the authors proceed logically, writing clearly with little reference to social theory, and they all have something to say - don't even skip the essay by Roger Smith on fisheries. The papers, which focus on the 1990s in historical context, are grouped into three sections: Economic and Political Systems; Identity and Youth (these seem to be unrelated); Urban Living and Beauty (these are spectacularly unrelated; nobody has ever thought that modern Japanese cities are beautiful).

The 1990s were widely termed a lost decade. Economic recession was paramount; society was aging; social systems were overburdened; crime, drug use, and school dropout rates began to rise, though at nowhere near the rates of Western countries. People were anxious and worried. In response, members of Parliament, bureaucracy, labour leaders, and financial institutions displayed advanced political arteriosclerosis, continued self-interest, and routine corruption on a staggering scale. The widely popular prime minister, Koizumi Jun'ichirô, came up with the great idea of privatizing the post office, with a target date of 2007, which surely will not be met. The only other solutions on offer were those current in the West - reliance on the free market, radical restructuring, downsizing, ruthless termination of the systems upon which ordinary people depend. Herein lies the core of the problem of tradition and change: Japanese leaders were reluctant to abandon the things that had worked so well in the postwar period. The overall scene is best presented in the first essay, 'Japanese Economics: An Interpretive Essay,' by Keizo Nagatani, who is no fan of contemporary neoclassical economic ideas.

The authors all display good judgment, so there is little to dispute. I single out the essay by Millie Creighton, 'May the Saru River Flow: The Nibutani Dam and the Resurging Tide of Ainu Identity Movement,' which is incomplete, and somewhat accusatory, as are most essays on minorities. It is incomplete because it is lacking in the historical perspective urged by the editor. Ainu, who claim indigenous status on unprovable historical grounds, have been there for two thousand years. But as a result, what do contemporary Ainu look like? What race are they? Do they speak Ainu to each other, or just Japanese? Have they accepted the benefits of modern civilization, as have the Inuit of Canada? I mean, when I was a child I was taught that the Inuit were Eskimos, who lived in igloos, chewed raw blubber, and travelled by dog sleds. Now they live in bungalows and eat frozen prepared dinners while watching televison through prescription eyeglasses, and travel by snowmobiles. As for accusation, why should Japanese be blamed for ignoring the Ainu, a population of 40,000 in a people of 125 million? As for Chinese and Iranians and Caucasians like me, and Koreans who have been in the country since 1910 - the Japanese know who they are: foreigners. Most of the people urging a new identity of ethnic diversity upon the Japanese are foreigners, themselves a tiny minority in the country, who are generally shut out of things.

These are not really criticisms, just thoughts, and I am thankful to Creighton for inspiring them. She is in the mainstream of foreign scholarship about Japan.