This
Precious Life: Buddhist Tsunami Relief and Anti-Nuclear Activism in
Post 3/11 Japan, by Jonathan S. Watts. International Buddhist Exchange
Center, 2012, 208 pp., $10.00 (paperback)
T
he response of the Japanese people to the triple catastrophe of March
2011 won global admiration. The deeply ingrained attitudes of gambaru
and gaman suru (do one's best and bear patiently) protected the nation
from panic, despair, and anarchy. Collective wisdom dictated that life
must go on.
This
volume of essays chronicles how Buddhists mobilized their spiritual
forces in dealing with crisis and trauma. Arranged chronologically, the
essays give a sense of the history as it unfolded. Two Zen priests
describe the devastation in the Sendai area, the nuclear anxieties in
Fukushima, and the growing awareness that, though the trauma of the
tsunami would take long to heal, the nuclear problem would continue
indefinitely.
Another
Buddhist priest finds a silver lining in the way the tsunami enabled
Buddhism to cast off its image as a sleepy funeral religion. Contrary to
the sense of Japan as a society without connections (muen-shakai), the
bond between helpers and victims brought a positive energy and a vision
of a better society where heart-to-heart connections will flourish. They
rediscovered giving (fuse), which is a practice of refining one's own
mind; its spiritual benefits outstrip its physical success.
These
authors see hope of a renewal of Buddhism in Japan, as its core values
of wisdom and compassion are highlighted in a time of need. They stress
the importance of interdenominational cooperation within Buddhism, to
overcome inward-looking tendencies and identity fixations. The disaster
also showed the need for Buddhist, Christian and Shinto clergy to
overcome their differences and unite to protect the lives of children.
When
we turn to the nuclear issue, the book takes a much less flattering
view of Buddhist reactions, which mirrored a wider political ineptitude
in Japanese society. Conservative Buddhists are quicker to practice
welfare activities than to raise questions of justice, challenging power
structures and getting at the roots of social inequities.
Contributors
on this topic are led by Tetsuen Nakajima and Hidehito Okochi, priests
who have long been fighting against the nuclear industry and its
supportive ideology of nuclear fascism.
All
reject the claim that the nuclear catastrophe was beyond expectation,
citing a 1989 warning that coastal nuclear plants are continually
exposed to the dangers of earthquakes and tsunamis and the nightmare of
multiple simultaneous meltdowns. They denounce the role of a compromised
mass media: People don't realize how ignorant they are. Four decades of
political apathy among the Japanese as a whole have born bitter fruit.
Professor
Jun Nishikawa identifies the atomic village of elite politicians,
bureaucrats, businessmen, academics and journalists as culprits.
Fukushima Prefecture was typical of the scenario wherein conservative
rural communities, seduced by subsidies and lulled by reassuring
propaganda, gladly harbored nuclear reactors. Now, the prefecture has
done a huge rethink, calling for sustainable development based on
recyclable natural energy.
Gradually,
an ethical viewpoint is emerging from the stench of the failing nuclear
administrative system. Yet whereas Fukushima sparked a 200,000-strong
protest in Germany on March 27, 2011, a Tokyo demonstration on March 20
attracted only 1,500 people. The apathy of university students to the
nuclear issue, even after the catastrophe, is particularly striking.
Their political unawareness means that the lesson of the tragedy is
wasted on them and that they are unable to deconstruct the myths of
safety and necessity on which the nuclear industry relies. The blame
lies with a generation of parents who have raised their children to be
politically disconnected.
The contributors' call for a radical reshaping of Japanese society will probably seem utopian to many readers.
Can
a policy of territorial development based on endogenous initiatives and
local resources, emphasizing the full employment of local people and
the equitable distribution of resources, meet the energy needs of Tokyo?
Is it realistic to call on Japan to move into a world of posteconomic
growth, postdevelopmentalism and posteconomic globalization, and to
abandon the value system that has forged the basis of the modern world?
Capitalism,
not Buddhism, is the binding religion of modern Japan. The critique of
economic and political corruption is a new field for the application of
Buddhist wisdom, which would certainly energize Japanese Buddhism and
give it social relevance. But it will probably remain a specialty of the
band of Engaged Buddhists so eloquently represented in this book.
The Japan Times
JOSEPH S. O'LEARY
2012-07-30
2012-07-30
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