5 posts tagged “election”
Newspapers are hailing Hirokazu Nakaima's election as a landmark step away from the base issue in Okinawa. This is doubtful -- the last governor, Keiichi Inamine, was also elected asa pro-business center-right candidate, and ended up being a lot less cooperative than the U.S. and Japan would have liked on the pro-base agenda.
Will Nakaima follow suit? He will meet with Chief Cabinet Secretary Yasuhisa Shiozaki in Tokyo next week about the Futenma transfer, so we'll start to see the broad sketches of what to expect.
In other news, I'm doing a dive trip to the Kerama Islands tomorrow during the day and teaching English at night, so it'll be a light blogging day. I have a long, frivolous post that that I'll put up before I leave in the morning. Just wanted you to know that I hadn't been killed by a tornado, shaken by a tsunami or tossed away the internet in disgust.
The election was close, with more than 63 percent of the public turning out to vote, and Hirokazu Nakaima is the new Okinawa governor-elect.
This makes it much more likely, if not inevitable, that Futenma Marine Air Station will be relocated within Okinawa. More on this later -- I have some work to finish and I'm going to go on a morning run. Did another 22 kilometers yesterday, and I'm going to see how my body likes it if I try to do it again today.
Bubbles. A giant, inflatable saltwater manatee. Meeting one of my heroes in person.
Yeah, you could say it was an intriguing evening on the streets of Naha.
The election is tomorrow, and both of the frontrunners held big rallies in downtown Naha tonight. You can read my primer on the race here, replete with links to all the news articles I could find. Short version: it looks close, with candidate Keiko Itokazu making opposition to U.S. bases her primary issue and Hirokazu Nakaima focusing on economics. I grabbed the camera and notebook to capture a bit of each candidate's last-minute push.
In my experience, political rallies reflect the constituencies of the candidate. So it was unsurprising that the establishment candidate, Nakaima, had a well-organized event where his small army of supporters marched in unison, chanting scripted slogans, and even crossed the street in an orderly fashion.
Itokazu's rally was more my speed. Not just because of the issues, either.
Itokazu's stump speeches included quite a bit about the environment, specifically addressing Henoko and the dugong (which I'm researching) several times:
I'll say this: anyone who can make male supporters wear pink headbands has my respect. Don't worry, man; I think it has dignity. Here's another shot of Itokazu speaking from her campaign bus, before the event's main attraction kicked into gear. (In the fiction business, we call that "foreshadowing.")
Speaking of different cultural perceptions and color schemes, Nakaima's color is yellow:
Imagine those three things flying in the states? Combine them, and you'd have a recipe for an attack ad: Nakaima loves the terrorists so much, he wants to smile at them and hand them hearts: no wonder his campaign chose the color of cowardice!
Perhaps to make up for this, Nakaima seems to have a support base that is at least 70 percent men. Yes, I saw women at his rally, but let's just say that the Y chromosome was well-represented.
Because Nakaima's flyers feature a picture of him with his 20-something daughter, I joke with friends in my neighborhood that his campaign slogan should have been "Vote for me! My daughter's cute." Honestly, I'm wondering whether his focus group told him he needed to get more backing from women. The Nakaima ad reminds me of that Jay Inslee ad in Washington state where the message was, essentially, "I was the high school quarterback. Here is my son. Now, he is the high school quarterback. Vote Team Quarterback!"
As fervent as Nakaima's supporters were, his rally wasn't nearly as interesting. As a rule, any political event that includes a concert where the candidate sings and dances a bit while a bubble machine covers the sky with soap-powered spheroids is my kind of scene. Add in a giant, inflatable saltwater manatee (the dugong, of course) floating overhead and you've got yourself a party.
After she addressed the throng, Itokazu moved to the stage, and I was lucky enough to be in a good position to snap a shot. Here's Itokazu racing from her perch to the stage
Just as the event was underway, I ran into my project advisor. Neither of us knew the other was going to be there, so it was a happy coincidence.
Helpful, too. My advisor introduced me to droves of people who will be valuable book sources, and I took their meishi (business cards) and frantically scribbled down names and numbers. Finally, he said there was one more person he wanted me to meet.
I was shaking her hand before I got the introduction. My face lit up and I went into fanboy mode when my advisor told me I was shaking hands with Suzuyo Takazato.
Besides being a leading force opposing violence against women, Takazato has been instrumental in drawing connections between problems in women's lives here and environmental degradation. She's a critical voice here trying to prevent the next generation of girls from being raped, to help mothers have a safe environment for their kids.
It that's not worthy of the label "heroism," I don't know what is, and neither do the Nobel folks. I have a list of people I wanted to meet while here. Her name was at the top. We make arrangements for an interview next week.
There you have it: some people go ga-ga for musicians, others for designer clothes. I become awestruck by leaders of obscure but meaningful activist groups.
An Itokazu supporter looks on as the bubbles start to fly:
Get ready for a few shots of the big dugong balloon, which wandered overhead like a mammalian zeppelin:
... oh, the huge manatee!
C'mon, you knew that was coming. If I am ever in charge of a political campaign, I can guarantee you two things: giant balloon featuring the dugong, and bubble machines:
Another feature of the Itokazu rally that Nakaima's rally couldn't boast was diversity. While the yellow sea had just as many people, most were of the same vintage (people of a certain age) and dressed quite conservatively. Itokazu's rally had a bit of everything, from people in traditional dress ...
My book's working title is "Paradise at the Tip of the Spear." Though this could change, I like the phrase.
It implies that Okinawa is paradise, which is not far from the truth given its tropical nature and peace-loving culture; and it juxtaposes this with one of the military's terms for the island, the tip of the spear, the leading edge of America's forward presence abroad.
When you're writing something like this -- something larger than anything you've attempted before -- you take inspiration and information where you can. I brought a big stack of books with me, almost all about about Okinawa's history, culture and environment. I also brought a few (as in, fewer than 10) "writerly inspiration" books, designed to stimulate the parts of my brain centered around the English language.
One of the few books unrelated to Okinawa that I brought here is a slim volume called Arcadia; it's a play by the British writer Tom Stoppard. Arcadia, of course, means Paradise. Without spoiling the plot for you, the drama takes place over the space of about 150 years in a somewhat pastoral, idyllic setting.
The writing done by Australian scholar Gavan MacCormack, whose work on Okinawa is extensive, could not be more different than Stoppard's, but both are valuable to a guy in the position of structuring a book. MacCormack has a new piece in the Japan Times today entitled "Tokyo's War With Its Peace Prefecture."
If you're new to the history of U.S.-Japan-Okinawan relations, this article is a wonderful summation of the high (low) points, complete with footnotes. If you want a relatively quick and easy read that will break down how these three parties have related to each other over the past few hundred years, MacCormack's is a terrific resource.
He makes the case that no locality in modern Japanese history has so actively resisted national policy as has Okinawa. Given the cultural disconnect between the mainland and the Ryukyus, this is unsurprising; given also the horrific impact that Okinawa felt during World War II (and the disproportionate burden it still feels from the supposedly shared burden of U.S. bases), this was just about inevitable.
The shorter version: first, Japan took over the Ryukyu Islands; then, the mainland repeatedly sacrificed Okinawans and their interests. Okinawans continually try to advocate for themselves and their islands, but the power of the state is tough to resist. The Empire always strikes back, as I say, although MacCormack gets bonus points for making a more artful "Asterix and Obelix" analogy.
The part of the article that jumped out at me, though, is something I've been thinking about myself recently as I walk around town.
His piece begins by noting that " the Okinawan people tire and grow old, while the state continually rejuvenates." It's an old story with environmental struggles. A biologist I interviewed offered a grim and sardonic take on defending wilderness from corporate or government malfeasance. The trouble is, he told me, we can win the fight to protect a special area a million times -- they only have to win once.
In other words, we fight like crazy, we get tired, we grow old, we even die, but they just keep coming.
MacCormack writes:
The central government in Tokyo tried
by every means to break the Okinawan will,
confronting a coalition of local fishermen and
farmers, teachers, shopkeepers, small-business
people, elected representatives of local
governments and, by no means least, the
ojii and obaa (the old men and women
of Okinawa), now in their 80s and 90s, whose
experience of the calamity of war in 1945 made
them resolute opponents of any military role for
Okinawa.
This is strictly accurate. Even Iha Yoichi, the mayor of Ginowan City, cites the Battle of Okinawa as central to his political thinking -- and he wasn't born at the time. Memory of this cataclysm spreads to the next generation. But think about who passes that knowledge on: those who lived through it, those who have the type of experiential knowledge for which there is no substitute.
Okinawans are statistically the longest-lived people on earth. Elders play a key role in society, especially in the resistance to the planned base near Henoko. These people are treasures, living knowledge repositories of traditional ways and unimaginable horror.
They are survivors in every since of the word, but they're getting older. People aren't like institutions. A 90-year-old grandmother may die and a 65-year-old bureaucrat may retire. After the grandmother is laid to rest in a turtleback tomb, though, the Japanese government hires a new bureaucrat. His role is the same as the retired guy's -- get that base built.
As for Stoppard's play, the title is an allusion to an old Latin phrase, Et In Arcadia Ego. It means: Even in Paradise, I Am.
The speaker is death.
Pessimistic, perhaps. The narrative arc is one you've heard before. Maybe you think you've seen this movie. Maybe you think you know what happens. Maybe you're even right. Maybe the Empire does always strike back.
Consider, though, that a grandmother has children that have children. She's told them stories, you know, stories more harrowing than any I will be able to tell you in my book, stories with perhaps more resonant truth than even a learned scholar like MacCormack can pack into a fact-filled argument.
Consider that the stories we tell have power.
Now that the practice election is out of the way, in the United States, we can get on with the one that really matters: the race for the position of Okinawa's governor.
Kidding aside, this is a big one. In Washington, there are whispers that the outcome could affect the entire plan to realign U.S. military forces here.
The two leading candidates are Keiko Itokazu, who is backed by Japan's opposition parties, and Hirokazu Nakaima, who has establishment support. Itokazu is a member of the Diet; Nakaima was formerly both chair of the Okinawa Electric Power Company and vice governor.
Outgoing governor Keiichi Inamine has endorsed Nakaima, whose electoral strategy appears to be emphasizing economic development in Okinawa and downplaying the issue of American bases. By contrast, Itokazu's primary issue is her opposition to the U.S. military presence, particularly the plan to build a new marine air station at Henoko in northern Okinawa as a replacement for Futenma (an issue I've written about).
This article offers a serviceable summary of the plan to phase out Futenma, transferring its functions to a mammoth new base, and the tactics each candidate is employing. Essentially, Nakaima's line is that jobs trump other concerns here in Japan's poorest prefecture:
"The most important issue is how to assist Okinawan industry. My goal
is to create a prefecture with no unemployment. The second most
important (goal) is improving social welfare services, while the base
issue is the third-most important," he said at a rally in Naha on Nov.
2.
Observers should be careful not to underestimate the impact of the base issue, though. Polls have consistently shown strong opposition to U.S. facilities here, and a new one by Kyodo News offers stark numbers: almost 60 percent of Okinawans oppose the current plan to replace Futenma with a new base up north, compared to about 20 percent in support.
You can see why none of the candidates supports the plan as currently conceived.
That statement, and the linked article, oversimplifies a bit, however. It's true that no gubernatorial hopeful endorses the plan, and that's understandable -- it would be political suicide. Nakaima has taken the softer line, though, telling reporters that he would agree to relocate Futenma within Okinawa.
Itokazu vocally opposes that. She has taken a stronger stand against U.S. bases, using rhetoric like this:
"Do we choose to take the road of war by allowing the U.S. bases to stay in the prefecture permanently?"
Among the people I've spoken with, most support Itokazu. But this is a very small sample size, taken in the place (Ginowan City) most affected by the U.S. presence, and since Itokazu has argued for Futenma Marine Air Station to immediately leave Okinawa, it's not altogether unexpected.
There's an notable bit of editorializing, too, in that Daily Yomiuri link:
Nakaima's election campaign is solid, based on winning over organized voting blocs in the business community, the LDP and New Komeito.
This intrigues me not just because I'm curious about the truth value of this claim -- it seems reasonable, although I'm in no position to evaluate whether it's accurate -- but also because it comes out of nowhere in an otherwise fairly objective article that refrains from making other normative claims.
This week, I plan to interview some Ginowan locals with economic interest in seeing the base stay. It will be interesting to get their take on the race, and by extension, Futenma itself.
From media coverage, the race appears tough to handicap. Historian John Purves suggested a few months back (scroll down a bit) that Itokazu faced an uphill battle.
Besides drawing support from their respective (no pun intended) bases, how swing voters behave could be key. Itokazu is polling far ahead among people with no party preference; polls show her with a two-to-one lead over Nakaima among these voters. This is probably an edge she needs to maintain to win.
Another article from Yomiuri says it's going to be very close, and will go down to the wire, with a whopping 30 percent (!) of voters undecided heading into the campaign's final week.
Talk about a figure that leaps out at you: of nearly 900 people who returned the Yomiuri Shimbun's surveys, 76 percent say they "will definitely vote." Add in the people who say they'll vote "if possible," and you get 96 percent. Almost 100 percent of people surveyed say they're either definitely going to vote, or are going to try.
Even with the selection bias -- it's a voluntary survey, so people who returned the surveys are more likely to be engaged in the political process, hence more likely to vote -- those are "wow" numbers.
Compare that to the states, where just over 40 percent of people voted in a critical election; that turnout was labeled "strong". Relatively speaking, it was, too -- it was the most robust turnout for a midterm election since 1982.
Regarding that other election, the one back home, this Stars & Stripes article indicates that sentiment here among the military and expat civilians is circumspect but generally positive about the Democratic takeover of Congress. From the quotes, it seems that there's a general sense of a change being needed, regardless of personal ideology.
I'm hoping to talk with some service members this week, too, to get a sense of how accurate this is, and whether there are other, spicier opinions that our folks in uniform over here might not want splashed about in the paper.
