Category Archives: Japan

How the Japanese Changed Colors

History blogger Rhine River notes an article by Rotem Kowner in Ethnohistory 51.4(2004):751-778 (on Project Muse), entitled “Skin as a Metaphor: Early European Racial Views on Japan, 1548–1853” from which I’ll quote a few passages (omitting footnotes).

The Europeans divided Asians at this period [before the Enlightenment] into three types of color: black, shades of brown, and white. The Japanese and Chinese were evidently white, and this color judgment was related to their habits and abilities. Whereas the “black people” of Asia were regarded as inferior, suggests Donald Lach, “the whitest peoples generally meet European standards, may even be superior in certain regards, and are certainly good prospects for conversion.” Indeed, in contrast to European explorers in other parts of the globe, the Jesuits did not express any racial superiority toward the Japanese. Some may have felt a certain cultural superiority, but this did not prevent them from admiring the Japanese for their dignity, courtesy, sense of honor, and rationality….

Linne’s followers maintained his focus on color as a major component of their racial classification: The Scottish anatomist John Hunter (1728–1793) depicted Mongoloids as brown, whereas Johann Blumenbach was apparently the first to depict the peoples of East Asia as yellow. This color better suited the Japanese, for whom the designation brown was frequently far from reality. The Europeans could easily see yellow in others’ skin color because it is so vague, and it was enough that a few members of a group were perceived as such to generalize the characteristic to the whole group.

In 1775, the year Blumenbach’s book was published, the Swedish botanist and Linne’s disciple Charles Peter Thunberg (1743–1828) left for Japan. Thunberg, who worked as a physician at the Dutch mission for one year, was the first naturalist of the new school to examine the Japanese. A decade later, when Thunberg wrote his own account of his experience in Japan, he depicted the Japanese as having “yellowish colour over all, sometimes bordering on brown, and sometimes on white.” …

The most influential testimony on late Tokugawa Japan, however, was the writings of the German physician and naturalist Philipp Franz von Siebold (1796–1866). The erudite von Siebold, who was employed by the Dutch mission in Nagasaki in the 1820s as Kaempfer had been over a century earlier, took special interest in the origins of the Japanese. Reviewing previous writings on the theme, von Siebold examined four notions regarding Japanese ancestry: they were descendants of the Chinese, of the so-called Tartaric race, of a mixture of more Asian races, or of the aborigines of the archipelago. Like Kaempfer, von Siebold disputed the Chinese hypothesis because of historical evidence, differences in language, and physical traits. He noted, curiously, that the hair color of young Japanese ranged from brown to blond and that among the higher classes the skin color was white and pinkish red (“as among our European women”), whereas the lower classes ranged from copper red to sallow earthlike colors.

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Iris Chang, requiescat in pace

Iris Chang, author of The Rape of Nanking and other works, has died at the age of 36.

via Arts & Letters Daily

Jonathan Dresner posts a brief assessment of her work at the Japanese history blog Frog in a Well, and re-examines his own reactions at the History News Network’s Cliopatria.

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Take Anything But My Ox!

NEAR SUNDOWN, interpreter Nakahashi was wandering around a village looking for a horse some artillerymen had asked him to requisition. There were no more than five or six hundred houses in the village and, it became clear after twenty minutes of walking, not a single horse. The horse that had been pulling the cannon had fallen into a creek and broken its leg, creating a difficulty for tomorrow’s advance. The artillerymen gave up on finding a horse and instead suggested getting an ox.

“If it’s an ox you want, I see no problem. A water buffalo! You don’t mind, do you? Off the horse and onto the buffalo!” said Nakahashi, laughing. Still only nineteen, he had volunteered to be an interpreter as soon as the war had started but was rejected as too young. He quickly filed a petition and was allowed to accompany the army. Although high-spirited, he did not yet seem physically strong.

A water buffalo stood tethered in a shed by a farmhouse at the edge of the village. Deciding to take it and go, the interpreter looked in at the rear of the house. A wrinkled old woman was silently bending in front of the oven, kindling the fire.

“Hello, granny,” called Nakahashi from the doorway. “We’re Japanese soldiers and we need your ox. Terribly sorry, but we’ll just take it and go.”

The old woman shrieked in violent opposition. “Don’t talk rubbish!” she screamed. “We finally bought that ox just last month, and how are we to farm without it?!” Furiously waving her arms, she rushed out of the earth-floored house only to see that three soldiers had already pulled the ox out of the stable and were discussing its uncertain merits, concluding it might be of use. In a breathtaking display of hysterical rage, the crone shoved the man holding the rein and sent him staggering, then planted herself in front of the ox and screeched at the top of her voice.

Hesitant to intervene, the soldiers looked on with wry smiles at the vehement exchange between Nakahashi and the old woman.

Suddenly interpreter Nakahashi erupted with peals of laughter.

“This granny is outrageous! The ox is out of the question, she says. She’s got two sons and she doesn’t mind if we take them and put them to work, but not the ox!”

Standing around the placid water buffalo and the woman, whose temples throbbed with indignation, the soldiers burst into loud laughter.

“Maybe we should get her sons to crawl on all fours and haul the cannon!”

But by now the sun had begun to set. The area was still dangerous after dark. The men resolved to take the animal.

“Move!” A soldier thrust the old woman aside and took hold of the rein. “Keep still or you’re dead!”

Wailing and screaming, spittle flying, the woman resisted all the more tenaciously. “The bitch!” Clicking his tongue, the interpreter grabbed her from behind by the nape and knocked her down with all his might. The woman tumbled backward and collapsed into a rice field by the side of the road. A shower of mud washed over the soldiers.

Nakahashi laughed and started to walk off. “You may keep your life but not the ox. We’ll send him back to you when the war is over.”

The ox began to plod along the crumbling, dusty road. The soldiers felt elated. This continent teemed with boundless riches; one merely had to take them. A vista was opening up before them in which the inhabitants’ rights of ownership and private property were like wild fruits for the soldiers to pick as they chose.

The water buffalo exacted its revenge, however. At departure time the next morning when all preparations had been completed and the order to start was being awaited, the ox lumbered off straight into a rice paddy, dragging the gun carriage with it. Forced to heave the cannon out by themselves, the soldiers became coated with muck from head to foot.

SOURCE: Soldiers Alive [Ikite iru heitai, 1938], by Ishikawa Tatsuzo, translated by Zeljko Cipris (U. Hawai‘i Press, 2003), pp. 78-80

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Nissan vs. Mitsubishi Management Style

The BBC reports on Remodelling Japan Inc.

Nissan and Mitsubishi, two of the world’s most famous car companies, have both stared into the economic abyss in the last five years.

But while one has recovered to become Japan’s most profitable automaker, the other remains in deep trouble.

Their crises expose weaknesses in Japan’s traditional corporate model – weaknesses that were hidden until the economic downturn exposed them….

Just five years ago, Nissan had debts of $22bn and was close to bankruptcy.

The company had been complacent about its place in the market and its designs were felt to lack imagination, analysts say.

Toshiyuki Shiga, head of Nissan’s General Overseas Markets, explained that although Nissan’s problems were widely reported by the media at the time, the company’s own employees would not believe there was a crisis. They were tunnel-visioned and ostrich-necked, he said….

This was one of the first issues tackled by maverick French national Carlos Ghosn. He took over as Nissan’s CEO when French car-maker Renault announced it was taking a 37% share in Nissan in 1999. That stake has since been increased to 44%.

Mr Ghosn introduced something called “cross-functional team working”. This encourages dialogue across departments and divisions, engendering what Nissan’s Toshiyuki Shiga terms “healthy conflict”. It also enables the ideas of younger employees to get heard.

Mr Ghosn also tackled bloated management – cutting 22,900 jobs, some 15% of the total workforce, and halved the company’s suppliers.

As a result, it is now Japan’s most profitable car company, posting a $7.29bn profit in year end of March 2004.

Like Nissan, Mitsubishi Motors forged an alliance with a foreign car maker, in 2000. Daimler-Chrysler initially took a 37% stake, although that has since been reduced to 20%.

But unlike Nissan, its foreign marriage has not ended happily. When Mitsubishi asked Daimler to bail it out financially, Daimler refused.

Mitsubishi has responded with an aggressive restructuring plan. It has declared it will cut 11,000 jobs in the next three years, and has reduced its departments from 230 to 157.

via Tanuki Ramble

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My Sugar or Your Life!

THE REGIMENTAL SUPPLIES had not yet landed at Shanghai and were only now approaching its harbor. This meant that the front units could not rely on being replenished by the transport corps to their rear but were forced to improvise, requisitioning on the spot whatever they needed.

Rice and vegetables were relatively abundant, but spices extremely hard to find. The shortage was at its most acute during their stay in Wu-hsi.

The soldier in charge of cooking at the regimental headquarters was jealously hoarding a bowl of leftover refined sugar.

“Listen up! This is for the regimental commander, so nobody lays a finger on it!” Lance Corporal Takei wrapped it in paper and put it on a shelf. He used it only when cooking for the colonel, and then sparingly, but even so, the amount dwindled to a mere cupful. “There must be sugar somewhere.”

Whenever free from kitchen duty, he scoured the city for sugar but found none. That evening, planning finally to use the last of the sugar in preparing the colonel’s supper, Takei reached for it, only to discover it gone.

Vegetables were boiling in the pot; table legs and broken boxes blazed steadily underneath. Takei stood gaping in front of the stove.

“Hey! Where’s the sugar I kept here?” Soldiers on duty chorused that they did not know. Some said it was there at lunchtime, some speculated that the wind might have blown it off the shelf. In the end the suspicion arose that the Chinese kitchen workers were most likely to have stolen it. Five Chinese, brought all the way from Chih-t’ang-chen, worked in the kitchen.

The lance corporal’s face flushed with rage. Unable to speak to them, he slapped the Chinese nearest him, a youth of about seventeen. This one seemed to him to have done it. He ordered a subordinate to call the headquarters interpreter.

“Ah, what a lovely fragrance!” Interpreter Nakahashi sauntered in, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

Takei quickly explained the situation and asked that he interrogate the boy.

The Chinese, industrious and obedient, had been doing kitchen work ever since Chih-t’ang-chen.

Nakahashi did not think him guilty but went through the motions of interrogating him. The boy said he did not know, perhaps a soldier had taken it.

“A soldier would never take it!” thundered Lance Corporal Takei, eyes flashing with rage. They decided to search the boy.

Deep in his pocket they found a crumpled piece of paper, clearly what the sugar had been wrapped in. Not a speck was left; the paper had been licked clean.

Lance Corporal Takei was sputtering with fury. He grabbed the boy and hauled him off to the edge of a reservoir sixty yards away. On the opposite bank First Class Private Kondo was washing rice in his mess tin, preparing to cook his evening meal.

Takei drew his knife and without a moment’s hesitation stabbed the boy through the chest. With a groan the boy toppled into the reservoir, sending waves rippling thirty feet across to the bank where Kondo was rinsing rice. Kondo sprang up in alarm.

“What did he do?”

“That son of a bitch stole the sugar I’d slaved to get for the regimental commander, and licked it up!”

“I see.” Limply holding the mess tin, Kondo stared at the boy’s back as it floated in the water.

The lance corporal stormed off. With a sense of regret Kondo realized he would not be able to wash rice in this pond anymore. A human life could be taken for taking a lump of sugar. Once again, what was human life? Suddenly he recalled the words of Christ: “Though a sparrow be worth less than a penny, yet the Lord has made the sparrow beautiful.” A sparrow’s life was no different from a human’s. Though their lives be worth less than a lump of sugar, yet the Lord has made the Chinese boys beautiful…. Kondo clamped down tightly on his sensibility and resumed his understanding with the battlefield. Dangling the dripping mess tin from his right hand and humming, he strolled back to the campfire.

When Lance Corporal Takei returned to the kitchen, the four remaining Chinese glanced up at him with anxious, searching eyes and began frantically to cook. Takei roughly washed his hands, marched up to the pot filled with boiling vegetables, and stirred them about. Nakahashi was still standing there.

“You killed him?” he asked.

“Yes, I killed him,” Takei answered.

“What did you have to do that for? He was a good, hard-working fellow. Learn to control your temper.”

“Try imagining how I feel!” Takei burst out and averted his face. Nakahashi started: The man was crying! Being robbed of sugar for the regimental commander’s supper had triggered this much sadness. The interpreter silently left his side.

Presently Takei heaped the cooked food onto a plate and took it to Colonel Nishizawa’s room. He had only one dish to serve him.

The colonel was seated at a soiled table, intently studying the list of men killed.

“Tonight we lost our sugar, sir, so the dishes are tasteless,” said Takei, bowing his head. “Tomorrow I’ll be sure to look for some.”

“That’s fine,” replied the colonel without looking up.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

He bowed once again and returned to the kitchen. Squatting before the stove, he stared into the swirling flames.

“Takei, aren’t you going to eat?” called out a soldier. “Later,” replied Takei, not budging.

SOURCE: Soldiers Alive [Ikite iru heitai, 1938], by Ishikawa Tatsuzo, translated by Zeljko Cipris (U. Hawai‘i Press, 2003), pp. 123-126

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Sgt Jenkins’s Trial for Desertion

CNN reports:

CAMP ZAMA, Japan (AP) — The U.S. Army is preparing for its biggest desertion trial in decades following the surrender of Sgt. Charles Robert Jenkins, wanted for allegedly abandoning his patrol nearly 40 years ago and becoming a North Korean propaganda tool.

But while publicity is guaranteed, the prosecution might have a hard time winning the case, experts say. And if Jenkins does a plea bargain, as is widely expected, he may suffer nothing worse than a dishonorable discharge.

Jenkins has been living at this base just southwest of Tokyo with his Japanese wife and two North Korea-born daughters since he surrendered on September 11.

My last assignment in the U.S. Army was at a Personnel Control Facility (aka “brig”) where a surprising proportion of the inmates were trying to get a dishonorable discharge by deserting three times (going AWOL for over 30 days each time). Unfortunately, their local sheriffs often turned them over to the military (for a bounty, it was rumored) before the 30 days had expired. It took a lot longer than getting 3 purple hearts, of course, but it was a good bit safer route.

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Yakuza Japanese

Yakuza Japanese is just the site for those who wish to improve their J-gangsta street cred in the Kansai area. Or just to follow Japanese crime shows on TV. (Takes me back to high school days in Kobe.) It’s rough talk, but most of it’s not unique to yakuza.

via Language Hat

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Swimmer Ikarashi Goes for the Cold!

While all those fair-weather swimmers were going for their medals in Greece, a tough Japanese school teacher swam across Lake Baikal, where the water temperature is 9-11° C (48-52° F). Interfax reports:

IRKUTSK. Aug 13 (Interfax-Siberia) – Ikarashi Ken, 52, a Japanese school teacher, successfully swam across Lake Baikal from Cape Sredny to a bay near the community of Buguldeika on the lake’s western coast in 15 hours on Thursday….

Ikarashi Ken has set several records by swimming across Pas de Calais, the 28-kilometer wide Tatar Strait, the 40-kilometer strait between Hokkaido and Sakhalin, Lake Biwa-ko in Japan, and also the straight between Korea and Japan.

via SiberianLight, who’s back to blogging again after a hiatus.

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The New Guinea Schoolboy and the Japanese Straggler

The following story was told to me in 1976 by a man from Morobe Province, New Guinea who was a noted traveler and raconteur whose nickname was “Samarai,” because he had once spent time there. An earlier The following story was told to me in 1976 by a man from Morobe Province, New Guinea who was a noted traveler and raconteur whose nickname was “Samarai,” because he had once spent time there. An earlier episode, The New Guinea Schoolboy and the Japanese Officer, was posted in May.

In this rough translation, I’ve tried to capture the storyteller’s idiom without presuming too much specialized knowledge on the part of my readers. We can be sure the story has “improved” over countless retellings, but it nevertheless conveys a third-party perspective on the Pacific War that is too rarely heard. For more local reactions to the Pacific War in Papua New Guina, consult the Australian-Japan Research Project.

We went and slept until the first crack of dawn when it was my time to sound reveille. So I went and struck the, dakine, slitgong: “Kuing, kuing, kuing, kuing, kuing.” So then the boys woke up and bathed and washed their faces. When they finished, okay, the bell rang.

The bell rang and all the people went to school and were singing. As soon as they finished, I ran right up behind the school and stood atop a rock.

When I looked out, I could see as far as the Huon Gulf and, okay, it was completely dark.

I said, “Hey guys, come look at something. The boys said, “What is it?”

“Come look!” And when they looked, “Guys, let’s scatter!”

Okay, they went and gathered up their things and fled into the forest. Before we left, the guns started sounding, “Bum, bum, bum.” They were firing at the soldiers at Singkau and Kabwum and Lae and Salamaua. You could see fire and smoke all over the place.

Okay, all the Bukawa and Hopoi people went into the forest. I ran to my house and roasted some taro cakes under a tree. I planned to take two to eat in the forest.

I was doing that and our teacher Gidisai and his wife and kids came up. And just then a crazy Japanese man came up. He had no gun, no knife, just walking around empty-handed.

“E, Kapten!”

So I said, “What?”

“E, Kapten, Japan boi hangre, ya.”

“Oh, I don’t have any food.”

“A, banana sabis [= ‘free’], ya? Japan boi hangre, ya.”

The teacher said, “Are you crazy or what? You go fight!”

“O, nogat [= ‘no’], ya. Japan boi sik na hangre, ya.”

“Oh.” I heard that so I stayed and thought, “Oh, if he stays there, the guns will kill our teacher for sure.” So I stood by and didn’t go into the forest.

I was standing there waiting and, suddenly, “Japan boi, yu mekim wanem [= ‘you do what’]?”

“Boi, hangre, a, imo [= ‘tuber’] sabis, ya? Imo sabis?”

“O, imo planti planti istap faia [= ‘are on the fire’]. Olgeta sabis [= ‘all free’]! Kam kaikai [= ‘come eat’]!

He went and sat down and ate taro and I said to the teacher, “You all go quickly!”

So they ran way over into the forest and hid themselves in the rocks. And then I said, “Japan boi! Yu kaikai. Yu stap. Yu slip haus. Mi go.”

“Mm.”

Okay. I took my things and ran into the forest.

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Hiroshima, Streetcars, and Edward Teller

On this day every year, those who remember will think of the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum.

But Hiroshima also has a lesser-known museum that celebrates construction rather than destruction, the Hiroshima City Transportation Museum, with its famous streetcar collection, thanks to Hiroshima Dentetsu (Hiroshima Electric Railway Company). Hiroshima, the home of Hiroden, is one of the few Japanese cities that still have streetcars running–and Hiroden still operates them, including the new Green Mover car from Germany. Like San Francisco, Hiroshima has salvaged rolling stock from all over the country, so that citizens can ride museum exhibits around the city.

The popular cars have a mixed parentage–some were inherited from the Kansai district and some came from Hannover and Dortmund in Germany. The company … operates what has become one of Japan’s busiest tramways. The light rail line takes passengers to the ferry to Miyajima Island where Itsukushima Shrine is located, and provides through connections on the urban tram network, offering convenient transit for some suburban residents.

By curious coincidence, H-bomb pioneer Dr. Edward Teller lost his right foot to a German streetcar in the 1920s.

In 1926, he left Budapest to study chemical engineering in Germany…. It took Dr. Teller only two years to become captivated by quantum mechanics, a field then revolutionizing nuclear physics. It commanded his attention at the University of Munich. While in Munich, Dr. Teller lost his right foot in a streetcar accident, but that barely affected his studies. Moving on to the University of Leipzig, Dr. Teller worked with Werner Heisenberg, a giant of 20th-century physics, and received his doctorate in 1930.

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