Mr. Onaga, this is no time for victory dancing *** 翁長雄志さん踊ってる場合じゃないんだよ

Wednesday, November 19 2014 @ 02:33 PM JST

Contributed by: Y.Yamamoto


Okinawa Governor-elect Takeshi Onaga

Outgoing Okinawa Governor Hirokazu Nakaima

    As a dog returneth to
    his vomit, so a fool
    returneth to his folly.

               Psalm 26:11

In the middle of writing on the result of Okinawa's gubernatorial election of November 16, I realized it would take too much time if I intended to analyze its implication to the fullest. I decided to make it short because I still have some backlog issues such as Japan's religious salad and consequences of the protracted drought of disruptive technologies. Hopefully I will further elaborate on my take on the Okinawa election, if I have time after I can release these pieces from the pipeline,

People in even more uncivilized countries such as the United States always talk about election fraud in the face of the loss suffered by a candidate they support, or as a handy excuse for not bothering to cast their ballots so they can say, "It's not my fault," whenever things go wrong.

But in Japan vote-rigging is a rarity simply because it's unnecessary. It doesn't make a bit of difference who wins the poll.

In the last thirteen centuries since Shotoku Prince promulgated the 17-Article Constitution, the ruling classes have been increasingly well-equipped with the art of governing, while their subjects have developed for themselves an ingenious art of being governed. Not that people don't fear, complain, resist or protest. On the contrary, they express dissatisfaction nonstop with their constrained lives.

I think this is primarily attributable to the tradition of shamanism. Let's face it: Japan is, in fact, a mirage. True, it isn't a nothing; something is there. But certainly this country is a mere optical phenomenon without substance. It comes into real existence only when it's met with fear, resentment, or any other strong feeling from its people. By this hypothesis the pathology of its insatiable desire for international recognition, or even the nationwide addiction to Sumaho and other mobile devices, can be explained, as well, in an indisputable way.

Believe it or not, I'm not exaggerating or just analogizing, but this country is nothing but an illusion shared among 127 million people. Maybe the same is more or less true with some other nation-states. But it's their headache, not mine.

I know if you are one of those thinking-disabled people who "think" they are thinking while in fact they are just shuffling information purely on an ear-to-mouth basis, you will find my ontological inference about this nation-statehood not only crazy but also outrageous. That's too bad. But I'm not in a position to babysit a curtain-climber like you.

I've learned from my firsthand experience that the entire game being played here is rigged from the beginning through the Shintoist ritual. I first learned as a university student how the system works from the nationwide protest against the 1960 revision of the U.S.-Japan security treaty. And then I learned more in depth about the same mechanism as a key staff member at the Human Resource Management section of KYB, a manufacturer of shock absorbers and other hydraulic equipment, who was in charge of industrial relations at the height of the labor movements dominated by belligerent communists from the late-1950s through early-'60s.

Now I know for sure it's much more than just degassing dissidents. The perpetual antagonism among people, who are actually obsessed with the idea that harmony should always prevail, is what has shaped the very foundation of this country.

Looking at Takeshi Onaga, the winner of the Sunday election, dancing his victory dance at his campaign headquarters, I realized all anew that Okinawa which was annexed by this mirage-like country in the 1870s has been irreversibly assimilated into America's Japan. Now the two parts of the "nation-state" have conglutinated to each other in a way to form a monster that looks pretty much like inoperable Siamese twins.

Onaga's predecessor is Hirokazu Nakaima. In the last eight years, he did the following three things: 1) he won two elections on his anti-base campaign pledge, 2) he upped the ante for the budget allocation from the Tokyo government for the "development" of the prefecture, and 3) now he is leaving office as a governor who did his best for his voters despite the fact it's Nakaima himself who gave a green light for the landfill at Henoko, the new site for the base of the U.S. Marine Corps.

Since Nakaima has already made the relocation plan a fait accompli, it's almost irreversible now. If Onaga really meant to rescind Nakaima's approval as he promised to the voters, he has no time to dance to the same old tune. But actually, Onaga, as the incumbent Mayor of Naha City, had previously confided to his fellow mayors that "no matter how we protest against the policy of the Japanese government, it will never be overturned," according to a Wikipedia entry. He reportedly added: "Yet we have to uphold our anti-base position because that is the only way to get more budget allocations."

In fact in the last forty years the Tokyo government has allocated an aggregate 10 trillion yen of taxpayers' money to Okinawa to compensate for "the disproportionately heavy burden" on the 1.4 million islanders.

This is a deja vu of what I have experienced time and again with the Yamatonchu in the last six decades.

Without a doubt the Ryukyuans used to be a people with self-esteem and creative mind, like the Catalans are today, but not anymore, I'm afraid.

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