Read Online The Land od the Rising Yen by George Mikes - Free Book Online
Authors: George Mikes
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wishes, eliminate discord, jealousy, envy. Well,
perhaps they don’t. It may be slightly naïve to relate Buddhist harmony to
modern electronic industries. But such an idea, once again, reflects our Western
smugness. Perhaps it is not so ridiculous after all, even for modern electronic
and such-like industrialists, to recall, however faintly, that certain
spiritual values always lurk in the background.
GEWALT ROSA AND THE REST
Japanese society looks more homogeneous than
any other but, of course, no society of a hundred million people — indeed, no
society of any size — is ever homogeneous. As a result, when the surface of
strict, almost universal discipline is broken, when the unruly instincts and emotions
held down by the discipline erupt, they will do so with volcanic force, with
white-hot fury. Modem Japanese society has two main outlets through which
violent undercurrents can rise to the surface. The first of these is student
violence.
Japanese universities are in an even
worse mess than most others. The famous French student riots of 1968 caused
much more violent vibrations in the political seismograph but lasted only a
fortnight or so. The main universities of Japan have been closed for months and
although some limited tutorial and seminary activities are carried on, there is
little hope of reopening quite a few of them in the foreseeable future. Out of
3,000 institutions called, somewhat liberally, institutions of higher
education, a hundred and sixteen have suffered, and they include some of the
greatest and most renowned seats of learning, Tokyo and Kyoto universities
among them.
Reading reports of student unrest and
violence, one keeps coming across the word zengakuren. This is a
portfolio word — of which the Japanese are very fond — a concoction from the
Japanese name of the National Federation of Student Self-Government
Associations. Nearly all students automatically become members of it. Some opt
out either to dissociate themselves or to join opposing right-wing
organizations, such as the Japan Student League, or some breakaway socialist
faction. Demonstrations started modestly and meekly enough, on a ‘we-too
must-do-something’ basis. Then the Cohn-Bendit riots in Paris gave new impetus
to the militants and their activities became more vociferous and riotous. The
police at first reacted with surprise bordering on amusement. The
steel-helmeted rioters were treated with indulgence; ‘They’re only kids,’ the
police implied. Then, occasionally, one of the kids picked up a stone and
bashed in a policeman’s head. The police were astonished, pained and became
tougher. More and more severe sentences were meted out by the courts — some
students are imprisoned for years — and this real or imaginary injustice
inflamed passions and inspired more numerous, more violent and more
self-righteous outbreaks. These activities culminated in the ugly violence in
the Shinjuku district of Toyko in October 1968 and in the ludicrous, stark
naked anti-Expo demonstrations in Kyoto, in July 1969.
For some mysterious reason Gewalt — the German word for force — has been taken over, perhaps straight from Marx,
and Gewalt has become a deity in its own right; Gewalt for Gewalt’s sake is approved by most militants, as if Gewalt were always good. It is
also abhorred and considered incomprehensible by the establishment, as if Gewalt were always wrong.
Some students fight for nebulous
aims. A few explained to me that they fight against police brutality. When I
pointed out that this could not have been their original purpose because
student demonstrations had engendered police brutality and not vice versa, I
was told that, whatever its origins, police brutality was a feature of life now
and must be opposed. Others demanded a bigger and better zengakuren, but
I failed to elicit any reason for this. Surely, a simple change in the size and
quality of the zengakuren would cure few ills. There is a notorious
perhaps they don’t. It may be slightly naïve to relate Buddhist harmony to
modern electronic industries. But such an idea, once again, reflects our Western
smugness. Perhaps it is not so ridiculous after all, even for modern electronic
and such-like industrialists, to recall, however faintly, that certain
spiritual values always lurk in the background.
GEWALT ROSA AND THE REST
Japanese society looks more homogeneous than
any other but, of course, no society of a hundred million people — indeed, no
society of any size — is ever homogeneous. As a result, when the surface of
strict, almost universal discipline is broken, when the unruly instincts and emotions
held down by the discipline erupt, they will do so with volcanic force, with
white-hot fury. Modem Japanese society has two main outlets through which
violent undercurrents can rise to the surface. The first of these is student
violence.
Japanese universities are in an even
worse mess than most others. The famous French student riots of 1968 caused
much more violent vibrations in the political seismograph but lasted only a
fortnight or so. The main universities of Japan have been closed for months and
although some limited tutorial and seminary activities are carried on, there is
little hope of reopening quite a few of them in the foreseeable future. Out of
3,000 institutions called, somewhat liberally, institutions of higher
education, a hundred and sixteen have suffered, and they include some of the
greatest and most renowned seats of learning, Tokyo and Kyoto universities
among them.
Reading reports of student unrest and
violence, one keeps coming across the word zengakuren. This is a
portfolio word — of which the Japanese are very fond — a concoction from the
Japanese name of the National Federation of Student Self-Government
Associations. Nearly all students automatically become members of it. Some opt
out either to dissociate themselves or to join opposing right-wing
organizations, such as the Japan Student League, or some breakaway socialist
faction. Demonstrations started modestly and meekly enough, on a ‘we-too
must-do-something’ basis. Then the Cohn-Bendit riots in Paris gave new impetus
to the militants and their activities became more vociferous and riotous. The
police at first reacted with surprise bordering on amusement. The
steel-helmeted rioters were treated with indulgence; ‘They’re only kids,’ the
police implied. Then, occasionally, one of the kids picked up a stone and
bashed in a policeman’s head. The police were astonished, pained and became
tougher. More and more severe sentences were meted out by the courts — some
students are imprisoned for years — and this real or imaginary injustice
inflamed passions and inspired more numerous, more violent and more
self-righteous outbreaks. These activities culminated in the ugly violence in
the Shinjuku district of Toyko in October 1968 and in the ludicrous, stark
naked anti-Expo demonstrations in Kyoto, in July 1969.
For some mysterious reason Gewalt — the German word for force — has been taken over, perhaps straight from Marx,
and Gewalt has become a deity in its own right; Gewalt for Gewalt’s sake is approved by most militants, as if Gewalt were always good. It is
also abhorred and considered incomprehensible by the establishment, as if Gewalt were always wrong.
Some students fight for nebulous
aims. A few explained to me that they fight against police brutality. When I
pointed out that this could not have been their original purpose because
student demonstrations had engendered police brutality and not vice versa, I
was told that, whatever its origins, police brutality was a feature of life now
and must be opposed. Others demanded a bigger and better zengakuren, but
I failed to elicit any reason for this. Surely, a simple change in the size and
quality of the zengakuren would cure few ills. There is a notorious
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