Many observers believe that interest in the Japanese Imperial Household is at an all-time low. The emperor and his family are often compared to civil servants -- and they are just about as glamorous. Few in number and entirely supported by the state, generally they are left to smile, wave and cut ribbons without too much attention from the press or public. All the same, in recent months the royal household has been getting a bit more publicity than it's used to -- and unusually bad publicity at that. The popular Crown Princess Masako, under pressure to bear an heir to the Chrysanthemum Throne, reportedly suffered a nervous breakdown and wasn't seen in public for months until two brief appearances in September. (The palace also released video of her playing happily with her only daughter, Princess Aiko.) In May her husband, Crown Prince Naruhito, stunned the press and public by using a routine press conference to allocate blame for his wife's illness and make a thinly veiled attack on Imperial Household Agency bureaucrats. The Japanese Imperial family is undergoing a quiet crisis. In the short-term it seems likely that the rules will have to be changed to allow Princess Aiko to one day become empress. A long-term problem is that, if not actively disliked, more and more the Imperial family is simply ignored. Some commentators believe that public indifference to the Imperial family is the result of its growing irrelevance to modern Japan. They say it needs to find a new role for itself before the Japanese public loses interest completely. In other constitutional monarchies one might expect that role to be discussed through the media -- or if the monarchy really is so irrelevant, questions about whether the royals are actually needed at all. But there is precious little sign of that. Instead, reports largely skim the surface of events, refusing to delve into more profound and troublesome issues. Take an article in the June 10 edition of the weekly Shukan Bunshun. The five-page report promised to look "behind the Chrysanthemum curtain" and listed "10 taboo topics" of the Imperial Household, including: "What is the real cause of Princess Masako's illness?" and "What is the budget of the Imperial palace?" Even, "Why doesn't the Crown Prince drive?" and "How good is Princess Masako at cooking?" What was noticeable by their absence in the list, however, were the biggest taboos of all: Namely, any real criticism of the royal family or questioning of the role of the institution itself. Jun Kamei, a writer and teacher who spent 21 years working for the Shukan Shichou tabloid weekly, points out that 60 or so years might have passed since people could be executed for criticizing the emperor, but old habits die hard. "Freedom of speech and expression are recognized," he says. "But all the same, those unwritten rules are left over."
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"Not one reporter ever asked Emperor Hirohito about his responsibility for the war in Asia, potentially one of the great stories of the last half century." -- David McNeill, Japan Focus |
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"(It is) corporate censorship, or self-censorship by the media," says Kenichi Asano, a professor of journalism and mass communications at Doshisha University in Kyoto. Along with the Yakuza organized crime networks, the Imperial family is the big taboo subject for the Japanese media.Few journalists are brave enough to step out of line, he says. "The top-ranking people in the press are mostly close to the LDP (the ruling Liberal Democratic Party). Young journalists know also that if they write something to criticize the emperor system, they will lose their future." During his 22 years at Kyodo News, Asano doggedly refused to use special honorific terms (such as adding "sama" to the end of a royal's name) when he wrote about members of the Imperial family. "Always my editors complained, 'You are against the Kyodo stylebook.' And I told them, 'No, you are against the constitution.'" His editors added the honorifics anyway. A further psychological constraint on those contemplating lese majesty is the threat of violence from right-wing groups. "As long as you don't say anything to resist the system, it is calm and nothing happens," says Asano. But Japan's journalists know the stories of those who dare to break the unwritten rules. In June 2000 Yasunori Okadome, the editor of a now defunct weekly magazine, Uwasa no Shinso, received an unexpected visit from two members of a right-wing organization. After clubbing him over the head with a glass ashtray, they stabbed him for neglecting to use an honorific when referring to Princess Masako in an article. Asano compares the media in Japan with their counterparts in the United Kingdom. The U.K.'s Guardian newspaper, a leading left-of-center daily, is openly anti-monarchy. In December 2000 the paper pinned its political colors to the mast, arguing in a leader that Queen Elizabeth's successor should be replaced with an elected head of state. Such an editorial stance is unimaginable in Japan, Asano says.
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