Japan and Valentine's

Will you be mine?

If this were a normal blog, that question would be unsustainable, since I would have too many readers to fulfill the requisite Valentine's Day rites for all of them. However, since there probably are fewer than 15 people who will see this post, and half of them will reject me, I'd only have to buy Valentine's goodies for around 7 people. Does that seem like a lot? Well in Japan, it's the way it goes.

Japanese Valentine's Day customs might seem strange to Americans. In Japan, women are obligated to buy the men in their lives (that's right men, as in lover(s?), family, coworkers, etc.) chocolates. There are even different classes of gifts, luxurious chocolates for the lovers, and less extravagant chocolate for obligatory recipients, like coworkers. From a young age, girls are encouraged to participate and buy goodies for all of the boys in their lives. As they grow older, their mothers stop shopping for them, and they have to make the purchases themselves. Not surprisingly, in high school the number of chocolates one receives becomes a measure of popularity. It's not clear whether this is a sick plot to stage a popularity coup d'etat, by fattening the queen bee.

The whole thing is a commercial affair. Chocolatemakers make huge profits. Other companies, realizing this, decided that they should design a second day to make money off of obligation, I mean love. Accordingly, in the 1980's White Day was created. It started off as a chance for men to reciprocate, but it has gone far past that, as women expect their lovers to buy them clothes and jewelry. The holiday has grown past its purely commercial dimension to have some real meaning in Japan, but it's unlikely any clothes or jewelry companies are complaining.

It seems like Japan's version of this "holiday" would be fun to celebrate. Today, instead of watching people in relationships exchange chocolate and gifts, I would be receiving gifts from all the ladies I know, not just because I'm a lady killer, but also because there are girls who casually know me. The real benefit of Japan's Valentine's/White Days, from the single man's perspective, is that since I'm not in a big-deal relationship, my costs on White Day would be much lower than the average girl's. Although this is an awfully selfish approach to love, since either culture celebrates love, it seems fair to figure out how to get the best deal out of it. (Kidding, kind of)

Even though Japan's Valentine's customs might seem slightly bizarre, it's probably important keep our cultural criticism relative. After all, America is the land of Hallmark holidays. Multiple affairs, whether Valentine's, Father's Day, Mother's Day, Secretary's Day, etc., all exist for almost the sole purpose of allowing companies to make money selling cards and gifts. I have decided to protest them all by never participating. My family doesn't approve. Neither does my secretary. Japan has taken note of this most capitalist of trends, and even one-upped us. We have Valentine's Day, but Japan's White Day doubles the love, and profits. Thank-you-for-the-Valentine's Day-gift gift anyone?

Japan as Cornerstone

In English class we recently spent some time discussing metaphors and their use in our culture and daily speech. Some of these qualify as conventional metaphors, so embedded in the way we understand life we don't even notice they're there. For instance, we commonly refer to death as departure (she's left us), or love as a fire (his passion burns for her), but how often do we choose these metaphors or notice we're using them? These contrast with original metaphors, used by poets and other communicators to make points in a creative manner.

The metaphor I want to explore in the context of Japan is somewhere between conventional and original: it was created and is no way cultural, but it has been used in discourse about the alliance for over 30 years. The metaphor, shockingly enough after the title for this post, is Japan as a the cornerstone of US security efforts in Asia.

I thought about creating a cool graphic juxtaposing a map of East Asia with the image of a cornerstone, but I lack the technical skill.

As far as I can tell, after somewhat intensive and comprehensive research of news sources via Lexisnexis, the first American politician to refer to Japan as "the cornerstone of stability in the vast reaches of Asia and the Pacific" was Gerald Ford in April of 1975 while at a conference with other Asian nations like Australia, New Zealand, and Indonesia.

Apparently Jimmy Carter picked up on the metaphor, because the following year he made it part of his platform while running for President. The US News and World Report from July 26, 1976 quotes the platform as calling Japan the "cornerstone of our Asian interests and policy."

Carter and his administration continued this policy throughout his presidency-

6/8/77- "[Appointed Japanese Ambassador Mike] Mansifed, 74, said that he was carrying Carter's message that the closest possible ties with Japan are 'the cornerstone of American foreign policy.'" Washington Post

3/20/78- "(Significantly, China recently told Japan's Socialist Party that China tacitly supports the U.S.-Japan security treaty, the cornerstone of U.S. foreign policy in the Far East.)" Forbes Magazine

3/8/79- "Both President Carter and Prime Minister Ohira took the opportunity of their meeting to stress anew the importance of the relationship of the two countries. President Carter said, "we consider the relationship with japan to be the cornerstone of the implementation of american policy throughout Asia." Ohira said, "in all aspects of Japan's foreign policy, our partnership with the United States is pivotal." U.S. Assistant Secretary of State Richard Holbrooke also had this to say: the political and strategic relations of the two countries have become 'closer than any time in memory'." Xinhua News Service

Something eerie

9/23/10- "Obama met Japanese Prime Minister Naoto Kan in New York, hours after holding talks with China's Premier Wen Jiabao, amid heightened tensions between Tokyo and Beijing over a dispute in the East China sea. 'We have reaffirmed the importance of the US-Japan alliance not only to regional stability, not only to the security of both our countries,' Obama said, after the talks with Kan. 'We believe it's one of the cornerstones of peace and security throughout the world.'" AFP

30 years later the alliance is still cached in similar terms by US leaders. The alliance is still a cornerstone. Now, what exactly is a cornerstone?

Princeton's Wordnet offers several definitions. The first is "basis: the fundamental assumptions from which something is begun or developed or calculated or explained," which is instructive in understanding the use of the term in the context of the alliance, but already rests on a metaphor for what a real cornerstone is: a stone in the exterior of a large and important building.

What happens when we understand the Japanese alliance as foundational to the building of US power in Asia? We view it as static, reliable, but also unchanging and perhaps not requiring change. As is illustrated in a quote from the Gerald Curtis' chapter in the new book Getting the Triangle Straight; Managing China-Japan-U.S. Relations,

"Americans are fond of referring to the alliance with Japan as the “cornerstone” of US policy in East Asia. It is an apt metaphor because a cornerstone just sits there; it is inanimate and reliable, something you can confidently build upon. But the Japanese cornerstone is shifting."

It seems that when we tell Japan and the world that Japan is our "cornerstone," we've always been able to reassure Japan of our commitment. Yet this reassurance is in many ways a threat. If the cornerstone comes out, the whole building comes down. The weight of the imperial edifice (speaking of metaphors) seems to rest in some ways on Japan's shoulders. So while the metaphor of Japan as cornerstone certainly captures an amount of mutual dependence and allegiance, it also dares Japan to try to stop relying on the US for its security. The part of the metaphor which prevents Japan from deeply challenging the alliance structure also makes it inflexible, and perhaps unable to respond to new challenges facing the alliance.

Can a cornerstone really shift?

Senkaku/Diaoyu

The prompt for this post was to write about a word, so why choose two words?

Well, Diaoyu and Senkaku mean the same things, in different languages. Senkaku is Japanese and Diaoyu is Chinese for (wait for it...) a group of islands!

Geography

Here's a map for those of you not intimately familiar with East Asian geography.

As you can see, the islands are in-between China, Japan, and Taiwan, due west of Okinawa, and for those of you who still haven't got your bearings, due north of the southwest end of the Ryukyu Islands. Helpful right?

The ownership of these islands has been disputed (primarily between China and Japan, but also Taiwan, ironically itself a disputed island) for a long time (going on 40 years), and this territorial dispute has been a source of tension in the alliance.

A Dispute

Recently, tensions have flared up, because of the arrest of a Chinese fishing boat captain by Japanese coast guard ships after the fisherman collided with the Japanese ships. If you're less familiar with the dispute, here is an excellent summary.

The discussion of the implications surrounding the incident has been pretty interesting. Initially, many writers, (primarily right-wingers) thought the incident would increase US power in the region, as Japan and other countries realized they needed each other and the US to check back an aggressive China. To some extent, this has been the case, as countries have grown more wary of China. Yet at the same time, China has rejected the US offer to act as mediator, denying the US credibility as a peacemaker, showing China isn't willing to cede that much ground, even if other countries turn to the US to balance China.

I've taken it upon myself to find various solutions and resolutions to the problem. For those of you who didn't click the links, neither Japan nor China have given up their claim to the territory, and offer the same solution: the islands are theirs. The populations of the countries feel the same way, which has only furthered the problem in the form of numerous protests and spilled over to affect diplomacy by creating tensions.

About the Words

Now back to our word(s). Senkaku, Diaoyu? Does it make a difference? It is probably telling that the members of the media (see links above) all refer to the islands by both names when reporting the dispute, unless they are being blatantly partisan. Each name represents a side on the issue, a stance on which country the territory rightfully belongs to. If Obama were to come out and say "The Diaoyu islands belong to China," it would be a lot more powerful than, "The Senkaku islands belong to China." The second, in fact, would be pretty confusing. This demonstrates the surprising power words and names have in shaping current events. They carry a lot of meaning, and the entire dispute could even be seen as a fight over the right to have the islands be called by a certain name.

So next time you refer to this particular island chain, make sure you call it by two names, unless you want your conversation to become an international incident.

African Aid and Japan

In English class the other day we talked about how the media represents Africa through language and what that says about our perceptions of the continent, and what is emphasized in the way we give aid to Africa. The context for this discussion is our reading of Poisonwood Bible.

We found that American news sources tend to focus on images of instability, disease, corruption, and a lack of opportunity. This fits nicely with US goals of using aid to decrease each of those problems in Africa. Our rhetoric matches our priorities.

Japan also has a deep history of aid in Africa. Although we won't approach that history from the same angle as explained above (representations-> policy), I thought it would be interesting to investigate what types of aid Japan gives and how, how that reflects on American/Japanese cultural differences and priorities framed in terms of national interest. As I say that I realize I don't have time tonight to write a doctoral thesis. Might as well give it a (brief) try.

The main forms of aid Japan gives to Africa are monetary and economic. To avoid funky economic/aid terminology, that simply needs to be understood as money targeted at infrastructure development to stimulate economic growth. Japan ideologically bases this model on Post-WWII policies in Japan that allowed the country to recover from devastation by focusing on rebuilding systems like transportation to attract private investment, instead of trying to build businesses in a vacuum. This by itself reflects a fundamental cultural difference between Japan and the US, in that Japan is able to empathize with African countries on the level of development, and offer perhaps more targeted and effective aid as a consequence. The focus on economic development also showcases a belief, which may emanate from the post WWII experience, that economic help is the best kind of help. Along the lines of the Maimonides quote, give a country infrastructure to develop its own economy, and it will translate into sustainable prosperity, instead of aid-driven booms.

More significantly, an economic focus shows that Japan is seeking economic gains from cooperation with Africa. Japanese policymakers recognize that Africa is a vital emerging market and want to get inroads by helping to bring the market into existence. Japan isn't the largest donor of aid to Africa, but the amount is still substantial, and, along the lines of China, Japan leverages it to an economic end.

The analysis above also explains why Japan provides food aid to countries when it's necessary. Japan views relief and direct aid policies as last ditch efforts to prevent backsliding. Food aid isn't the primary strategy, but when price spikes threaten to unravel years of progress, Japan will do what is necessary to maintain it's strategic advantage.

Countries give aid according to domestic cultural and international narratives. A country that believes it has a responsibility to provide global public goods by stemming endemic diseases like hunger, lack of education, corruption, and, of course, disease is more likely to use forms of foreign aid that directly address these problems, while a country that developed from devastation into the world's third biggest economy and views itself as an economic rather than military power is likely to attempt to share and further an economic narrative by growing emerging markets, and seeking to reap the benefits of that growth.