“What Is Japan?” a Question for Thoughtful Japanese

“What Is Japan?” a Question for Thoughtful Japanese

Is “What Part of Me is Japanese?” a Question For Us?
I sometimes don’t understand any more how today’s Japanese see themselves in the world, when I hear the reactions of influential media figures or accomplished artists when they visit the US – the country that has arguably had the greatest influence on post-World War II Japan. Such reactions, incidentally, are much harder to come by nowadays compared to, say, 30 years ago when magazines, newspapers and TV used to be filled with the accounts and comments by curious and excited writers, artists and ordinary folks eagerly heading for foreign shores.

The Japanese today on the whole seem much more interested in what goes on at home than what goes on abroad. One theory says they are now in the “introverted phase” of their centuries-old inward-outward cycle in the direction of their collective energy. (The decades of military and economic expansion leading up to WWII would be an example of an extroverted phase, while the closed-door policy of the Tokugawa shogunate era up to Meiji restoration would be another introverted phase.) This is a bit ironic in an age when Japanese people can be more confident of their nation’s cultural influence in the world and more satisfied with their relative standard of living than ever before.

So here is one puzzling reaction. Shigesato Itoi, a popular essayist, copy-writer and influential media personality recently visited Las Vegas for the first time, and wrote: “It’s like grown-up (otonappoi). To have fun gambling is a grown-up pastime, and feeling very comfortable about having lots of money to spend is also grown-up-like. In their male-female relationships too, I sense this grown-up-ness that makes me feel nostalgic.

“That would mean people who don’t drink, aren’t interested in gambling and, moreover, don’t have much money to spend are ‘children (kodomo).’ I guess it’s me I’m talking about.”

So here’s a media personality with considerable following in Japan, who has deep appreciation for many aspects of his own culture, saying Las Vegas makes him feel like a kid in an adult world. He actually went there to cover Cirque du Soleil performances, but he sounds sincere enough.

Whether the US and Americans made one feel “like a kid” used to be a very sensitive issue back in the post-war decades. When U.S. forces occupied Japan in 1945, General Douglas McArthur, commander of the allied forces, stirred up a major controversy with his statement that “Japan is like a 12-year-old child.” The line was quoted by Japanese newspapers out of context which was actually referring to the developmental stage of democracy in Japan then. But many Japanese misunderstood it as a reference to the Japanese people’s mental maturity and took offence. So it’s remarkable someone of Itoi’s sophistication still reacts like that when immersed in the excitement and glitter of Las Vegas for the first time.

Incidentally the word otona or grown-up is a well-worn cliché in Japanese ads plugging everything from brandy and watches to fashionwear and the atmosphere of a 5-star hotel lobby. Equivalent to ‘sophisticated” or “mature,” it connotes something so cool and, well, sophisticated that it’s almost unattainable (unless you buy that hand-crafted Swiss watch).

Over 60 years since the end of WWII, the habit of always comparing themselves to Americans and the US seems to have become almost second nature, a subconscious mental attitude for many Japanese by now. A well-known avant garde visual artist who recently went to New York wrote that he was surprised how “unafraid” he felt there, compared to when he visited NY for the first time back in 1989. Mr Yasumasa Morimura explained it this way: “Japan that is accepted throughout the world, Japan that’s on an equal footing with Europe and the US is no longer an object of curiosity to them. And coming from contemporary Japan where the US is considered run of the mill, even I who can’t handle English well probably no longer feel strange or afraid in NY.”

He went on: “It’s been about 20 years since my first trip to New York, when I felt overwhelmed and awe-struck by America. As a reaction I became acutely aware of my Japanese-ness. Now what kind of a country is it that I come from?” He’s no longer sure what Japan is now that it’s conceivably on an equal footing with the US.

Most us are Canadians of Japanese ancestry or Japanese who migrated here after WWII. So either our forefathers, grandparents, parents or ourselves must have made a conscious decision to leave behind that “world of Japan”—with its unique mix of complex familial obligations and social responsibilities along with cherished friendships and lifestyle amenities—to make a new “start” in wide open (?) Canada. As one of many racial minorities in this traditionally Anglo-European multicultural society, the question relevant to us now is not “What does being Japanese mean?” as the aforementioned thoughtful and sensitive types ask, as much as “What PART of me is Japanese?”

That would inevitably lead to the question “What part of me is not Japanese?” Belief in my God-given rights as an individual? Ability to treat strangers decently as fellow citizens? Ability to stick to my own choice when everyone else prefers something else in a group situation? Belief in fairness as a core value? Appreciation of moments of solitude? Whatever this part may be made up of, and it could well be bigger than the “Japanese part,” its something our brothers and sisters back in Japan usually don’t have.

What began as a puzzle ends as a puzzle, and I can only thank those of you still reading this.

Allow me to close with a reminder of what numerous men working in companies in Japan receive on St Valentine’s Day. It’s giri choko, or “chocolates given as a matter of courtesy or obligation.” Young female office workers go out and buy lots of chocolates (where do they get the money?) to distribute to middle-aged and even younger guys in the office with zero likelihood of receiving chocolates from female colleagues. It’s nice that at least everyone gets chocolates? I wouldn’t like to be pitied in that way? So, what part of you is Japanese?