Identity and moder nization

KYIV-TOKYO-KYOTO-HIROSHIMA-NAGOYA-ISE-TOKYO-KYIV — In Tokyo I was fortunate enough to explore a very interesting photo exhibit at a municipal art gallery. It brought back warm memories of The Day’s photography exhibits that help to reveal aspects of the Ukrainian soul, our history, and our attitudes to visitors to our country, and which have served to bring people closer. After visiting the gallery, I told the guide that I felt as though I had lived through that period with them because the display was a brilliant and accurate picture of Japanese society after the Second World War. With documentary exactness the photographs portrayed the shame of losing the war (also started by Japan), the horror of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and the bombing of Tokyo (of which I was unaware), which killed 200,000 people. For a long period of its history Japan remained a closed country, without relations with any country. I have a postcard from the Edo-Tokyo Museum, which contains objects with which the Japanese were unfamiliar until they opened their doors to the outside world: eyeglasses, compasses, and field glasses, even though they had this great culture. Their mighty wooden temples, built without a single nail several millennia ago, are still breathtaking. It was a society that had practically no contacts with the outside world, and then suddenly foreigners were among them. I can’t even imagine how all those descendants of the samurai with their Bushido Code, which commanded utter devotion to the principles of duty, respect, valiant and honorable conduct, love of fellow humans, truth, and loyalty, endured this experience.

YOMIURI AND THE DAY: AN EXCHANGE OF CARTOONS

I visited the editorial office of the daily newspaper Yomiuri, the largest-circulation paper in the world. It is 150 years old and its print run is 10 million. The Japanese have the enviable habit of reading newspapers. I had a wonderful time talking with my Japanese colleagues, because our two newspapers have many things in common despite the differences in age and scale. Yomiuri also publishes books, supports the local philharmonic society and baseball team, and also runs a travel agency. The deputy editor, Kiichiro Harano, told us that their mission is to help develop Japanese society. I presented them with an album of cartoons by The Day’s Anatolii Kazansky. They admired the album and reciprocated by presenting me with their own collection of cartoons. Yomiuri holds cartoon competitions and issues collections, like The Day does its best photos.

More surprises awaited us. In the Japanese newspaper’s collection of cartoons I spotted some familiar works done by Ukrainian cartoonists, like Yurii Kosobukin and Mykola Kapusta. I was also shown a page from a recent issue of Yomiuri with a cartoon done in Ihor Lukianchenko’s style, portraying a Japanese politician who had blurted out that one of his friends is someone close to Osama bin Laden. Later, he retracted his statement and claimed that he had been misunderstood. The cartoon portrays the politician as a person who speaks what he hears. This can serve as an illustration of the similarity of certain platforms, moods, and the fact that, distance notwithstanding, the information world is in the same orbit in terms of quality.

THE JAPANESE CHARACTER IS BEING RUINED

Traveling in Japan is very convenient. It took me one and a half hours to fly to Hiroshima, from where I returned by a super- express train that traveled at the speed of 250 kilometers an hour. What I liked most was that the train attendant entered the compartment and after bowing, went about his duties. At the end of the trip the attendant faced every passenger (God forbid he show his back to anyone!) and bowed again before leaving the train. It is pleasant to travel like this. On both sides of the train we saw towns, villages, and small and tidy rice paddies. Japan’s Royal Family also owns a paddy tended by the emperor and the empress. They do this not just because rice is the most cultivated crop in Japan, but so as not to distance themselves from the people.

The trains in Tokyo are computer-operated. I rode on one to a seaport. It was an exciting trip, even for the Japanese passengers. I could tell from the look of pride on the face of my guide Hironobu Iwaoka. Of course, traveling in Japan without knowing the language is difficult because few ordinary Japanese know English or other foreign languages. Another important aspect that protects Japan from globalization is its hieroglyphic alphabet.

Japan has its problems, of course. Despite their high level of achievement, many Japanese say that civil servants’ salaries are not that high: either they rise too slowly or expenditures on education are becoming too high. But this is not the main thing. A Japanese friend said that the worst thing is that the Japanese character is deteriorating. She told me a story that had had a very disturbing effect on Japanese society. Not far from Ise there is a factory that has been producing sweets and pastries for the past 300 years. This factory recently became embroiled in a scandal after it transpired that it was selling stale-dated products. The wrongdoing was instantly detected and the factory was closed, but the subject continued being discussed throughout the country. The big question was how this could have happened. Part of Japanese society associates this shameful occurrence with “the winds of globalization” and, in an exalted mood, believes that Japan must be closed to all foreigners because they are allegedly bringing in all these “viruses.”

Nevertheless, Japan is a country of fantastic paradoxes. The Japanese are self-centered without being arrogant. On top of everything else, they are Eurocentric. It is an Asian country that often judges itself according to the European yardstick. In some respects Japan is more European than Europe. When I was visiting downtown Tokyo, particularly the Ginza district, where the finest art galleries, the headquarters of international companies, the most expensive stores, and the world’s most expensive advertising equipment are located, my guides asked me if I thought their downtown is as fine as London, Paris, or Milan’s. I felt that their question was not a childish desire to make comparisons. I told them they could rest assured that there are aspects that allow them to feel more European than most European countries, at least where cleanliness and courtesy are concerned. One hundred and fifty years have elapsed since Japan was opened to the world. Remarkably, over the past couple of years Europe has begun to suffer because of its super-open status. I am not saying that this is bad. On the contrary, this is a great achievement. There is a sense, however, that Europe is experiencing fatigue because of this. Japan, in contrast, still has a homey feel to it. The Japanese are avid fans of whatever is in vogue. In fact, they have several key phrases, including one to designate what’s in or out. The main phrase is what is beautiful or not beautiful, a kind of measuring stick. I often say that adopting a scale of measurement is the most sophisticated philosophical category. This is precisely what the Japanese do. It is not customary for them to dress loudly. This is not so much a question of affordability as one of upbringing and tradition. Of course, young Japanese dress the way they choose, like elsewhere in the world — at times in a more challenging way for my liking.

On Fridays, all the employees of departments and offices traditionally gather in small restaurants. They joke that if the chef is a male, then the rest of the personnel is female; they tell their boss how wonderful it is to work with him. These remarks are ostensibly said in jest, but in my view this is an effective kind of social therapy, where people work together and produce excellent results, where there is a certain code of ethics. That’s why such relaxing get-togethers are completely natural. I was also told that when company executives leave restaurants, their secretaries carry their attache cases for them.

Although the Japanese are accustomed to living in open communities in small areas, they are also skilled at protecting their personal space. I witnessed the following incident. My guide and I were standing on a railway platform in Nagoya, and behind us was a young woman with a baby in a stroller. I don’t know about anyone else, but I think that all Japanese are born as adults. Japanese children have an adult look in their eyes. Anyway, that one-year-old child was wriggling its legs and accidentally hit my guide. His mother instantly apologized and pointed an accusing finger at the baby, telling him he should not touch a stranger under any circumstances. Of course, this type of formal courtesy disappears during rush hours in the Tokyo subway. But even at these peak travel times the hustle and bustle also looks ritualistic. Very respectfully an attendant will push a man inside a subway car. But as soon as the slightest bit of space appears for formality, it will take place. The more space there is for ceremony, the more it is practiced; there is respect for the individual and the distance to which every individual has a right.

SHARED FEATURES

I believe there are invisible strings that link Ukraine with Japan, which date back to pre-Christian traditions. From what I know about our literature and history, there is much in common between the deities that our Ukrainian forefathers and Japanese worshipped. Nor is there anything coincidental about the names of Japanese shrines, such as “Sad Garden” or “Pure Water.” According to European scholars, Christianity was introduced in Japan at a rather late date. Japan has Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches. There is a Catholic university, where I talked with a professor, the Rev. Hakamada (the older brother of the Russian political figure Irina Hakamada). While Christianity is a part of Japan’s diversified cultural and religious life, its own inner world focuses on the same thing Ukraine once had: a number of deities that were worshipped, above all, Mother Nature.

There is a marked similarity between the Ukrainian Cossacks and Japanese samurai. I was thrilled by the story of the last samurai, Tokugawa Ieyasu. I have seen the film The Last Samurai, which reminded me of Ukraine’s last koshovy otama . One of my guides, Ms. Kyoko Masai, was pleasantly surprised to learn that our newspaper carried an interview with Daisaku Ikeda, the director of Soka Gakkai International, a religious and civic organization (Den, no. 89, May 22, 2002). In his interview Mr. Ikeda declared that Ukraine is a unique country. “I became aware of its uniqueness after reading Shevchenko and Gogol whose works I read after the Second World War, literally on the ruins of burned-down Tokyo. We were starving physically as well as culturally. I was about 20 years old at the time. Gogol’s Taras Bulba made a very big impression on me. I found out about this novel when my friends and I and some teachers, including the distinguished Japanese educator and enlightener Josei Toda, were part of a small study group specializing in world history. It was Toda who recommended that we read this novel about love of freedom and honor. That was when I fell in love with your country.”

During my visit to Japan I became convinced that many as yet unexplored features of Ukrainian Cossack democracy and Japanese military centrism had a bearing on our future. True, our prospects were cut short tragically by the subsequent colonization of Ukraine. Japan was fortunate enough to avoid this experience. Later, the Second World War, Hiroshima, and Chornobyl produced new features that our cultures have in common. I told my Japanese hosts that many Japanese have a very sympathetic attitude to the Chornobyl tragedy.

Momoki Chieko is an unusual woman, who owns a small salt company in the city of Ise, near Mikimoto Island, which is famous for its pearl-culturing technique and is named after its founder. Her studies show that the salts in this area remove radionuclides and other harmful substances from the human body. After obtaining confirmation from medical circles, Chieko has been telling Ukraine’s Chornobyl victims to use certain additives in their diet. When we met, the first question she asked was what kind of salt I use. Does it have enough microelements that can balance any damage to the body? She also asked what could be done to inform the greatest possible number of people in Ukraine about the need for such microelements. At the end of my visit she gave me a package of her salt. This generous gesture is explained by the Japanese peoples’ understanding of suffering and their empathy with Ukraine.

I was gratified to note that my Japanese hosts were pleased to receive our souvenirs. I had brought what I thought were excellent works of art by Alla Donets, a pupil of the great Petrykivka craftsmen. The Japanese are very happy to accept gifts and they understand the value of folk crafts. I was also glad to see that my learned guide appreciated the bandura. He told me that he has recordings of Sofia Rotaru songs on his computer and that he knows “Chervona ruta” by heart.

While I was getting to know Japan, I was constantly referring to the kind of country that Ukraine could be. This was a kind of projection. On the one hand, history has set us far apart. I kept hearkening back to the tragic end of the Cossack era. In Japan, the Russo-Japanese war and other armed conflicts were a heavy burden, but they fell on a mononational society. There are few foreigners in Japan and acquiring Japanese citizenship is still a very complicated procedure.

We must also learn from Japan’s awareness that world resources are limited. A new way of thinking is a top priority in the 21st century. This year’s Nobel Prize was awarded to Al Gore, the renowned campaigner for world climate change. Japan is a case study for applying this new way of thinking. There is nothing coincidental about the signing of the Kyoto Protocol: Japan is where the ideology of reducing emissions into the atmosphere was conceived.

We must also take a closer look at the phenomenon of Japan’s revival after it was defeated in the Second World War because we can see clearly how former defeated nations gain leading positions, while historical victors are unfortunately becoming outsiders. The problem is that no one has investigated the matter at sufficient length and depth for us. Perhaps one of the answers to this question is that both Germany and Japan were forced to forget their past, to end the practice of militarism that was germane to their economies and which had such a negative effect on their societies. The victors, meanwhile, resting on their laurels, became infected with internal diseases, like a can of spoiled food. The Soviet system was essentially as bad as the systems in those countries that started the war. But they were punished, while the Soviet system was not.

As I observed Japan’s attitude to people compared to ours in Ukraine, I told myself that we have to start from scratch in relation to a number of things. We must heal our historical memory; we must discard utopian and theoretical school curricula; we must teach our children to live in the modern world; we must introduce a mobilization system to effect a transition to a modernized economy and all aspects of life.

On the last day of my stay in Japan everybody asked me what I liked best about their country. I replied that most of all I liked Japanese men and women because every miracle that this country has worked is the result of both their efforts and the Japanese spirit and character.

I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude to my interpreters Mrs. Yuki Takahashi, Kyoko Masai, and Hironobu Iwaoka, who made my visit very comfortable. I would also like to extend my special appreciation to Japan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Embassy of Japan in Kyiv for their invitation and the interesting program that was prepared for my visit.