Japan’s long holiday season known as “Golden Week” has arrived. The first of the holidays is Showa Day on April 29. Even though I spent 28 years living in the Showa era (1926–1989), I do not feel particularly attached to the holiday. Needless to say, April 29 was the birthday of the Showa Emperor. Over the years, however, the name of the day has gone through several changes. Before World War II, it was known as Tenchōsetsu, a day to pray for the emperor’s longevity and the prosperity of the nation. After the war, it was, quite literally, called the Emperor’s Birthday. Later, following Emperor Showa’s death, it was renamed “Greenery Day,” and currently, it is known as “Showa Day.” By the way, when did the name change to Showa Day? I looked it up and found it was in 2007. With the enactment of the “Act on National Holidays Falling Between Other Holidays,” Greenery Day was moved to May 4, and April 29 was renamed “Showa Day” in order to keep it as a national holiday.

According to the Act on National Holidays, Showa Day is “a day to look back on the Showa era, a period of recovery after tumultuous times, and to contemplate the future of the country of Japan.” Of course, “recovery” implies the fact of preceding “negative circumstances.” Yet those years leading up to that recovery cannot be summed up in a single phrase like “tumultuous times.” In fact, the tumult did not begin in 1926, the first year of the Showa era. Rather, it can be seen as an extension of national policies pursued since the 1890s, when Japan was striving toward the ideal captured in the phrase “Clouds Above the Hill.” The outcome of those policies became evident on August 15, 1945.

Those were times of global upheaval, initially triggered by Germany, Japan’s former ally. Speaking of Germany, I watched the film Goebbels and the Führer-- subtitled in Japanese as The Man Who Produced Hitler, which portrays Joseph Goebbels, Hitler’s chief propagandist during the Nazi regime, as he conceals the truth, stirs the public into a frenzy with manipulative performances and fabricated information, and incites the nation toward total war. In the final scene of the film, the words of a woman who had survived Auschwitz -- drawn from her own experience -- struck me, leaving me alert and uneasy. Then a quote appeared on the screen: “It happened, therefore, it can happen again.” Eighty years after the war and 99 years since the start of the Showa era, the film’s message transcends time and space. I strongly hope you will take the time to go to the theater to see the movie.

Now, for those who enjoy reading, I would like to recommend Why Fish Don’t Exist (written by Lulu Miller, translated by Yumiko Uehara, Sanmark Publishing), a book that explores both the bright and dark sides of the legacy of David Starr Jordan (1851–1931), an American ichthyologist and the first president of Stanford University. It was Jordan who introduced the idea of eugenics to the United States--a concept first formulated by British scientist Francis Galton in 1883, which was later used as the basis of the Holocaust, the most horrific genocide in history perpetrated under Hitler. Jordan believed that “blood” was the source of moral, mental, and physical defects, as well as crime, poverty, and illiteracy, and he actively advocated for the legalization of forced sterilization. To my astonishment, even after World War II, such sterilization procedures continued, mainly targeting Indigenous peoples, immigrants, people of color, and individuals whose sexuality or gender identity did not conform to societal norms. Author Lulu Miller’s statement: “the idea of eugenics has not died out in the U.S.” weighed heavily on my mind, leading me to reflect once again on the situation in the U.S.

This Week’s Focus, 4.27 – 5.1
Takashi Mizukoshi, the President