Sympathy for Japan, and Admiration

Our hearts are all with the Japanesetoday, after the terrible earthquake there – the worst ever recorded inJapan. But, having covered the 1995 Kobe earthquake (which killed morethan 6,000 people and left 300,000 homeless) when I lived in Japan asTokyo bureau chief for The New York Times, I have to add: Watch Japan inthe coming days and weeks, and I bet we can also learn some lessons.

It’s not that Japan’s government handles earthquakes particularlywell. The government utterly mismanaged the rescue efforts after the1995 quake, and its regulatory apparatus disgraced itself by impoundingTylenol and search dogs sent by other countries. In those first fewfrantic days, when people were still alive under the rubble, some diedunnecessarily because of the government’s incompetence.

But the Japanese people themselves were truly noble in theirperseverance and stoicism and orderliness. There’s a common Japaneseword, “gaman,” that doesn’t really have an English equivalent, but issomething like “toughing it out.” And that’s what the people of Kobedid, with a courage, unity and common purpose that left me awed.

Japan’s orderliness and civility often impressed me during my yearsliving in Japan, but never more so than after the Kobe quake. Prettymuch the entire port of Kobe was destroyed, with shop windows broken allacross the city. I looked all over for a case of looting, or violentjostling over rescue supplies. Finally, I was delighted to find a storeowner who told me that he’d been robbed by two men. Somewhatmelodramatically, I asked him something like: And were you surprised that fellow Japanese would take advantage of a natural disaster and turn to crime? He looked surprised and responded, as I recall: Who said anything about Japanese. They were foreigners.

Japan has an underclass, the burakumin, and also treats ethnicKoreans with disdain. But compared to other countries, Japan has littleextreme poverty and a greater sense of common purpose. The middle classis unusually broad, and corporate tycoons traditionally were embarrassedto be seen as being paid too much. That sense of common purpose is partof the country’s social fabric, and it is especially visible after anatural disaster or crisis.

I don’t want to overdo that. Japan’s civility masks problems withbullying from schools to the work place, gangs like the yakuza rake inprofits from illegal activity, and politicians and construction tycoonsexchanging favors so as to loot the taxpayer. But it was striking in theaftermath of the Kobe earthquake to see even the yakuza set up countersto give away supplies to earthquake survivors. And Japan’s socialfabric never tore. Barely even creased.

This stoicism is built into the Japanese language. People always say“shikata ga nai” – it can’t be helped. And one of the most commonthings to say to someone else is “ganbatte kudasai” – tough it out, bestrong. Natural disasters are seen as part of Japan’s “unmei,” or fate –a term that is written by combining the characters for movement andlife. I remember reading an ancient account, I believe from 16thcentury Jesuit visitors, of an earthquake devastating a village, andthen within hours the peasants began rebuilding their homes.

Uncomplaining, collective resilience is steeped into the Japanesesoul. We sent our eldest son to Japanese school briefly, and I’ll neverforget seeing all the little kids having to go to school in shorts evenin the dead of winter. The idea was that it built character. I thoughtit just gave kids colds. But it was one more effort to instill “gaman.”And it’s “gaman” that helped Japan recovered from World War II andtolerated the “lost decade” after the bubble economy burst in about1990. Indeed, it might be better if Japanese complained a bit more –perhaps then their politicians would be more responsive.

One factor may also have to do with our relationship with nature.Americans see themselves as in confrontation with nature, taming it. Incontrast, the Japanese conception is that humans are simply one part ofnature, riding its tides — including many, many earthquakes throughouthistory. The Kanto earthquake of 1923 killed more than 100,000 people.The Japanese word for nature, shizen, is a modern one, dating back only abit more than 100 years, because traditionally there was no need toexpress the concept. In an essay in the Times after the Kobe quake, Imade some of these same points and ended with a 17th century haiku fromone of Japan’s greatest poets, Basho:

The vicissitudes of life.
Sad, to become finally
A bamboo shoot.

I find something noble and courageous in Japan’s resilience andperseverance, and it will be on display in the coming days. This willalso be a time when the tight knit of Japan’s social fabric, itstoughness and resilience, shine through. And my hunch is that theJapanese will, by and large, work together — something of a contrast tothe polarization and bickering and dog-eat-dog model of politics now ondisplay from Wisconsin to Washington. So maybe we can learn just alittle bit from Japan. In short, our hearts go out to Japan, and weextend our deepest sympathy for the tragic quake. But also, our deepestadmiration.