Asia in the New Millennium: Japan after 3/11: Global Perspectives on the Earthquake, Tsunami, and Fukushima Meltdown 9780813167305, 9780813167312, 9780813167329, 2005319163, 0813167302, 0813167329

Table of contents :
Front cover......Page 1
Copyright......Page 5
Contents......Page 6
List of Figures......Page 9
Preface......Page 12
Remarks by the Honorable Itsunori Onodera, Member of the Japanese House of Representatives from Kesennuma, Miyagi Prefecture......Page 14
Introduction......Page 16
1 Historical Geography of the Japanese Tsunami......Page 60
2 Facing the 3/11 Waves......Page 89
3 Tsunamis and Earthquakes in Japanese Literature......Page 96
4 Tsunami Flow and Geo-Environment of the Pacific Coastal Region of Tohoku......Page 119
5 Tsunami Damage and the Road to Recovery in Onagawa Town......Page 136
6 Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town......Page 153
7 The Cases of Two Tsunami Storytellers Who Experienced Tsunami Disasters Twice in Their Lifetimes......Page 175
8 Agricultural Damage in the Sendai Plain and the Road to Recovery......Page 190
9 Ramifications of the Fukushima Nuclear Disaster......Page 204
10 TEPCO and Nuclear Energy Politics......Page 219
11 Characteristics of the Evacuation Area and the Spatial Distribution of Radioactive Pollution in Fukushima Prefecture......Page 244
12 The Social Structures of Victimization of Fukushima Residents Due to Radioactive Contamination from the 2011 Nuclear Disaster......Page 266
13 Internet-Age Parents and Children after the 2011 Earthquake and Tsunami......Page 284
14 Crisis Mapping Project and Counter-Mapping by Neo-Geographers......Page 303
15 The Impact of the 2011 Tsunami and Earthquake on Distribution Systems in the Tohoku Region......Page 322
16 The Impact of the Earthquake, Tsunami, and Nuclear Radiation on the Manufacturing Industry in the Tohoku Region......Page 332
17 Disaster Prevention Culture......Page 346
18 The Role of Volunteering in Post-Tsunami Town Recovery......Page 379
19 Distribution of Non-Japanese Residents and Support Activities for Them in the 2011 Earthquake and Tsunami Disaster–Stricken Areas......Page 394
20 Coordinating Policy Toward Fiscal Preparedness for Natural Disasters......Page 413
21 Experiencing Disasters in Two Places......Page 432
22 Liquefaction in the 2011 Earthquake in Japan and the Christchurch, New Zealand, Earthquake......Page 447
23 Tamil Nadu and Tohoku......Page 462
Acknowledgments......Page 478
Contributors......Page 480
Index......Page 486

Citation preview

Japan after 3/11

Japan after 3/11

Global Perspectives on the Earthquake, Tsunami, and Fukushima Meltdown Edited by Pradyumna P. Karan and Unryu Suganuma Cartography by Richard Gilbreath

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Copyright © 2016 by The University Press of Kentucky Scholarly publisher for the Commonwealth, serving Bellarmine University, Berea College, Centre College of Kentucky, Eastern Kentucky University, The Filson Historical Society, Georgetown College, Kentucky Historical Society, Kentucky State University, Morehead State University, Murray State University, Northern Kentucky University, Transylvania University, University of Kentucky, University of Louisville, and Western Kentucky University. All rights reserved. Editorial and Sales Offices: The University Press of Kentucky 663 South Limestone Street, Lexington, Kentucky 40508–4008 www.kentuckypress.com Cover calligraphy by Toyoshi Satoh. Cataloging-in-Publication data is available from the Library of Congress. ISBN 978-0-8131-6730-5 (hardcover : alk. paper) ISBN 978-0-8131-6731-2 (epub) ISBN 978-0-8131-6732-9 (pdf) This book is printed on acid-free paper meeting the requirements of the American National Standard for Permanence in Paper for Printed Library Materials. Manufactured in the United States of America. Member of the Association of American University Presses

Contents List of Figures  viii Preface xi Remarks by the Honorable Itsunori Onodera, Member of the Japanese House of Representatives from Kesennuma, Miyagi Prefecture  xiii Introduction. After the Triple Disaster: Landscape of Devastation, Despair, Hope, and Resilience  1   Pradyumna P. Karan, University of Kentucky

Part 1. Earthquake and Tsunami Damage   1. Historical Geography of the Japanese Tsunami   45   Unryu Suganuma, J. F. Oberlin University   2. Facing the 3/11 Waves  74   Junko Oikawa, J. F. Oberlin University   3. Tsunamis and Earthquakes in Japanese Literature  81   Yukiko Dejima, J. F. Oberlin University   4. Tsunami Flow and Geo-Environment of the Pacific Coastal Region    of Tohoku 104   Masatomo Umitsu, Nara University   5. Tsunami Damage and the Road to Recovery in Onagawa Town  121   Takehiko Takano, Tohoku Gakuin University   6. Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town  138   H. Todd Stradford, University of Wisconsin-Platteville   7. The Cases of Two Tsunami Storytellers Who Experienced Tsunami Disasters     Twice in Their Lifetimes  160   Tomoko Yamazaki, Iwate University   8. Agricultural Damage in the Sendai Plain and the Road to Recovery  175   Ryohei Sekine, Tohoku University

Part 2. Nuclear Radiation Crisis: Living with Radiation   9. Ramifications of the Fukushima Nuclear Disaster: Toward the End of the   “Peaceful Atom”?  189   Jonathan Taylor, California State University, Fullerton 10. TEPCO and Nuclear Energy Politics: An Analysis of the “Japanese   Pentagon”  204   Unryu Suganuma, J. F. Oberlin University

11. Characteristics of the Evacuation Area and the Spatial Distribution of   Radioactive Pollution in Fukushima Prefecture  229   Toshio Hatsuzawa, Fukushima University, and Takehiko Takano, Tohoku   Gakuin University 12. The Social Structures of Victimization of Fukushima Residents Due to   Radioactive Contamination from the 2011 Nuclear Disaster  251   Yukio Yotsumoto and Shunichi Takekawa, Ritsumeikan Asia Pacific University 13. Internet-Age Parents and Children after the 2011 Earthquake and   Tsunami  269   Yukiko Dejima, J. F. Oberlin University, and Wakako Ikeda-Ohtsubo, Tohoku   University 14. Crisis Mapping Project and Counter-Mapping by Neo-Geographers  288   Toshikazu Seto, Ritsumeikan University, and Yuichiro Nishimura, Nara   Women’s University

Part 3. Impact of the Earthquake and Tsunami on Business and Industry 15. The Impact of the 2011 Tsunami and Earthquake on Distribution Systems in   the Tohoku Region  307   Jun Tsuchiya, Miyagi Gakuin Women’s University 16. The Impact of the Earthquake, Tsunami, and Nuclear Radiation on the    Manufacturing Industry in the Tohoku Region  317   Masateru Hino, Tohoku University

Part 4. Socioeconomic Dimensions of Response, Recovery, and Reconstruction: The Rebuilding Dilemma 17. Disaster Prevention Culture: Role of Schools in Saving Tsunami Victims  331   Kenji Yamazaki, Meiji University 18. The Role of Volunteering in Post-Tsunami Town Recovery: The Experience of   All Hands in Ofunato City, Iwate  364   James M. Hall, Iwate University, and Moto Suzuki, All Hands Volunteers 19. Distribution of Non-Japanese Residents and Support Activities for Them in the   2011 Earthquake and Tsunami Disaster–Stricken Areas  379   Kohei Okamoto, Nagoya University, and Kumi Sato, Kinjo Gakuin University 20. Coordinating Policy Toward Fiscal Preparedness for Natural Disasters:   A Post-2011 Earthquake and Tsunami Perspective  398   Yilin Hou, Syracuse University, and Unryu Suganuma, J. F. Oberlin University

Part 5. Comparative Responses to the Disaster: Japan, China, India, and New Zealand 21. Experiencing Disasters in Two Places: China’s 1976 Tangshan Earthquake and   Japan’s 2011 Earthquake, Tsunami, and Nuclear Radiation  417   Lisa Yinghong Li, J. F. Oberlin University

22. Liquefaction in the 2011 Earthquake in Japan and the Christchurch,   New Zealand, Earthquake: Responses and Challenges to Reconstruction  432   Christine Mary Wilby, J. F. Oberlin University 23. Tamil Nadu and Tohoku: The Two Tsunamis  447   Pradyumna P. Karan, University of Kentucky Acknowledgments 463 List of Contributors  465 Index 471

Figures 0.1. Japan Shaking  2 0.2. Dead and Missing, Destroyed Buildings, Displaced Residents, Households    without Water by Prefectures as of March 20, 2011  3 0.3. Tectonic Plates and Epicenters of Recent Major Earthquakes  6 0.4. Tsunami’s Top  8 0.5. Rikuchu Kaigan National Park  11 0.6. Regional Contributions to Japan’s GDP, and GDP per Person by Prefecture     12 0.7. Unemployment in Three Hardest-Hit Prefectures  13 0.8. Levels of Radioactive Cesium  23 0.9. Extent of Radiation from Fukushima and Evacuation Zones, March 30, 2011   26 0.10. Damaged or Destroyed Buildings in the Northern Part of the Keihin   Industrial Region 31 0.11. Impacts of the Tsunami on Ports  33 1.1. Time Taken by Tsunami Waves to Reach Japan’s Shore  51 1.2. The 35 Major Tsunamis in Japan  52 1.3. Sanriku Coastal Area: The 869 Jogan Tsunami vs. the 2011 Tsunami  54 4.1. Tohoku Region  106 4.2. Sanriku Coast/Sendai Plain  107 4.3. Landform Classification in the Sendai Plain  108 4.4. Tsunami Heights in the Sanriku Coast  111 4.5. Sendai Plain Run-Up Tsunami Flow and Backwash Flow  114 4.6. Ishinomaki Port Tsunami Run-Up Flow  115 4.7. Sendai Airport Area Run-Up Tsunami Flow and Backwash Tsunami Flow   116 4.8. Ground Elevation and Water Level in the Central Ishinomaki Plain  117 4.9. Yamamoto Town Coastline (Southern Sendai Plain) after Tsunami  118 5.1. Onagawa Town  122 5.2. Distribution of Lost Persons in Onagawa  123 5.3. Fishery Related Facilities Around Onagawa Port  124 5.4. Main Aquaculture Products in Onagawa, 1991–2006  125 5.5. Change in Fishery Catch in Onagawa, 1960–2010  126 5.6. Change in Population Structure of Fishery Workers in Onagawa, 1978 and   2008  127 5.7. Population and Households in Onagawa, 1960–2010  127 5.8. Change in Commercial Trade in Onagawa, 1982–2007  128 5.9. Plan for Redevelopment in the Central Area of Onagawa  130 5.10. Estimated Inundation Levels in Onagawa During the 2011 Tsunami  131 viii  

Figures  ix  

5.11. Weight and Value of Fish in Onagawa Market, 2010–2012  132 5.12. Population Decline After the Tsunami in Onagawa, 2011–2013  136 6.1. Location of Taro  139 6.2. Taro: Tsunami Walls and Evacuation Sites  143 6.3. Wave Shape as Recorded by DART Buoy  147 6.4. Tide Station at Taro  149 6.5. Percent of Japanese Coast Hit by Tsunami Waves of Various Heights  156 8.1. Sendai Plain: Tsunami Damage Area and Agricultural Land Use  177 8.2. Sendai Plain: Tsunami Damage Area and Cultivated Land Except Rice  178 8.3. Estimated Area of Damaged Agricultural Land in Miyagi Prefecture by   Municipality  179 8.4. Planned Year to Restart Planting in Sendai  182 8.5. Sendai City: Agriculture Revitalization Plan  183 8.6. Sendai City: Disaster Reconstruction Plan  184 8.7. Sendai Plain: Views about Future Farming According to Age  184 10.1. Nuclear Power Plants in Japan  209 10.2A. Iron Triangle: Politician, Bureaucrat, and Enterprise  212 10.2B. Japanese Pentagon: Politician, Bureaucrat, Enterprise, Media, and Academy  214   11.1. Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station  230 11.2. Accumulated Nuclear Radiation in mSv  231 11.3. Designated Evacuation Areas  232 11.4. Physical Geography of the Evacuation Area: Hamadori Flat and Narrow    Coastal Plain, Futaba Fault, and Abukuma Highland  233 11.5. Population Distribution, Fukushima Prefecture  234 11.6. Radioactive Cesium in Spinach  241 11.7. Radioactive Cesium in Plums  242 11.8. Radioactive Cesium in Wheat  243 11.9. Radioactive Cesium in Shiitake Mushrooms  244 11.10. Change in Fukushima Beef Price in the Tokyo Wholesale Market, August    2008 to June 2011  246 11.11. Radioactive Cesium in Rock Trout Near Iwaki City, May–September 2011    247 11.12. Radioactive Cesium in Sweetfish, May–June and July–August 2011  248 14.1. Flow for Creating and Sharing Data  295 14.2. Methods and Guidelines for Mapping Crisis in Japan  296 16.1. Distribution of Employees in Manufacturing, 2005  318 16.2. Employment in Manufacturing in Tohoku, 1950–2005  319 16.3. Ratio of Tohoku in the Amount of Value Added per Person in Japan  320 16.4. Location of Factories in Kakuda Basin, Tohoku  321 16.5. Distribution of Factories Related to Car Production in 2010, Tohoku  324 17.1. Damage Levels in the Municipalities on Iwate Coast  335 17.2. Tsunami Tendenko and Inochi Tendenko 345

x  Figures

17.3. Tsunami-Devastated Area in Taro Town, 1933 and 2011  346 17.4. Correlation Between Evacuation Time and Altitude  355 17.5. Tsunami Disaster Prevention Education  359 18.1. All Hands Volunteer Activities  367 19.1. Foreign Population in Japan, 1948–2011  381 19.2. Number of Visitors to the Fukushima International Association Website,   March 2011–January 2012 386 19.3. Distribution of Non-Japanese Rsidents in Japan 2007  388 19.4. Distribution of Non-Japanese Population in the Coastal Area of Three   Prefectures of Tohoku Region, 2010  392 19.5. Minamisoma International Association  396 22.1. Pacific Ring of Fire  433 22.2. Process of Mud Liquefaction  435 22.3. Urayasu Liquefaction Area, Japan  436 22.4. Earthquake Magnitude in Christchurch, New Zealand  437 23.1. Tamil Nadu Tsunami-Damaged Areas  448 23.2. Tohoku Tsunami-Damaged Areas  449

Preface On March 11, 2011, a massive tsunami triggered by an underwater earthquake pummeled the Pacific coast of Tohoku. The aftermath was overwhelming: ships could be spotted miles inland; cars floated in the ocean; more than 16,500 died or were missing; relief organizations struggled to reach affected areas to provide aid for survivors and those evacuated from areas contaminated by nuclear meltdown. Efforts to contain radiation from the damaged nuclear power plant were not successful. Shortly after the disaster, an international group of social and natural scientists from Japan and abroad traveled to Tohoku’s most devastated areas, observing and documenting the tsunami’s impact. The results of their research were presented at a symposium sponsored by the Institute for International Studies at J. F. Oberlin University, Tokyo. This volume contains revised versions of those papers, which offer field-based analysis of the triple disaster’s environmental, economic, and social impacts as well as the response and recovery efforts. The papers incorporate all four phases of disaster management: mitigation, preparedness, response, and recovery. Located at the intersection of geography, history, anthropology, sociology, political science, and disaster literature, the papers offer a vibrant and conceptually diverse inquiry into the rapidly evolving field of disaster study within the social sciences. With contributions from over twenty-five scholars from the United States, Japan, Britain, and New Zealand, the volume presents a general view of mitigation, damage, recovery, and reconstruction, and it aims to advance both ongoing and emerging debates on disaster mitigation and the future of nuclear energy. By presenting a comprehensive and authoritative examination of one of the world’s major natural disasters and the resulting nuclear catastrophe, it will serve as an invaluable resource for students and scholars, and chart new agendas for research, policies, and activism.

xi  

Remarks by the Honorable Itsunori Onodera, Member of the Japanese House of Representatives from Kesennuma, Miyagi Prefecture Translated by Mihoko Inamori Kesennuma City, Miyagi Prefecture, one of the areas most seriously impacted by the Sanriku tsunami in Japan in 2011, is my hometown. Japan has the best tsunami warning system in the world; however, the warning system did not save many lives in Kesennuma City. One of the major causes for the huge disaster on March 11 was human error. Unfortunately, the Meteorological Agency ignored correct data sent by the tsunami warning system. The governmental agency predicted that the tsunami would be between three and six meters; the local government made decisions based on the erroneous Meteorological Agency report. As a result, many residents evacuated to the rooftops of three-story buildings, which could survive a six-meter tsunami. In fact, the tsunami that struck Kesennuma was sixteen meters, which totally wiped out most buildings in the town, including my own office. The second major error involved the interval between the tsunami warning and the arrival of the tsunami, which was about forty minutes. Many residents evacuated to the hills or high ground and mistakenly assumed either that no tsunami had materialized or that it had already reached shore. Based on the government’s warning of a three- to six-meter tsunami, many residents decided to return to their houses to collect their belongings. Subsequently, a sixteen-meter tsunami struck the city. An oil tank was dislodged and caused a big fire in the town. Because of the destruction, it is no longer possible to distinguish the location of our houses or office buildings. Many survivors were isolated for a few days without any help. Because the temperature in the city around March was below the freezing point, many survivors on the rooftops of buildings froze to death. Food and blankets were necessary, but in short supply. The scale of the March 11 tragedy and the 1995 Hanshin-Awaji earthquake was totally different. In the aftermath of the Hanshin earthquake, efforts focused on recovery of the city, but in the case of the 2011 tsunami, it is also necessary to focus on the recovery of the fishery industry, which is the major industry in Kesennuma. For over two and a half months, infrastructure was essentially nonfunctional. Fishery products could not be processed because of the lack of water. The so-called “invisible recovery,” such as repair of water pipes, takes much longer than the “visible recovery” of the city’s appearance. Moreover, government red tape has made recovery difficult. For instance, the ground in Kesennuma subsided because of the earthquake; however, xiii  

xiv  Remarks by the Honorable Itsunori Onodera

residents must fix this problem by themselves according to the current law. There is no way that the tsunami victims can afford the necessary landfill by themselves. Also, misuse of recovery funds has been discovered. The 19-trillion-yen budget from the recovery fund has been used to buy weapons and rebuild a football stadium in Tokyo. These projects have nothing to do with disaster recovery or the victims of the March 11 tragedy. In conclusion, human error severely compounded the impact of the natural disaster. Despite the fact that we have the best tsunami warning system in the world, the government did not make effective use of the system. As a result, many lives were lost in the 2011 tsunami. In addition, some people have taken advantage of tsunami victims by misusing recovery funds from the government.

Introduction

After the Triple Disaster Landscape of Devastation, Despair, Hope, and Resilience Pradyumna P. Karan Extreme events in nature attract special interest because of their dramatic violence and the human suffering they often inflict. The Japanese live in one of earth’s vulnerable seismic zones and have developed towns and villages on the coast. They have sited factories and industries next to the coast. Then, with a clap, a boom, and a roar, the earth shakes, followed by a platoon of giant waves so loaded with energy it has its own name—tsunami. The water cuts a swath along the coast of Tohoku. So it went on March 11, 2011 (3/11—the Japanese use that label the way Americans talk of 9/11), another extraordinary chapter of living dangerously in Japan’s seismic zone (Time, March 28, 2011). It is one thing to learn from the Japan National Police Agency that 15,780 died and 4,122 were missing, and that Japan’s Cabinet Office report listed 82,945 living in evacuation centers or temporary housing, and that damage from the disaster is estimated at $219 billion. It is another to look from the eerie serenity of hilltops above Kamaishi, Minamisanriku, Kesennuma, Rikuzentakata, Ofunato, Otsuchi, and other Pacific coast settlements in Tohoku and observe the charred landscape of loss from the most destructive natural disaster of the twenty-first century (see figure 0.1). In Sakanamachi, a neighborhood of the city of Ishinomaki, one of the few sounds was the cackling of crows converging to feast on the thousands of fish spread along miles of its muddy streets. Sakanamachi, once a long line of sea-facing houses, factories, and warehouses, was a tangle of steel, boats, and nets (Rao and Lin 2011). The tsunami waves destroyed thousands of homes and swept away hundreds of cars full of people trying to flee (see figure 0.2). Waves chewed up the buildings of the area’s main industries, fishing and shipbuilding, leaving most beyond recognition or repair. The crashing waves breached the formidable tsunami-defense seawalls along most of the Sanriku Coast. Tsunami waves picked up houses and boats and cars and people, and then lunged at the coast again with debris that smashed through walls and metals. The devastated landscape looked like the twenty-first-century human-made world of Japan had cast up its possessions. The hidden metal frames of buildings, piping, and electric wires as well as generators, bookshelves, televi1  

0

25 0

miles 25

50 50

kilometers

Hachinohe Kuji Fudai Taro Miyako Otsuchi Kamaishi

Sea of Japan

Ofunato Rikuzentakata Kesenuma Minamisanriku Onagawa Ayukawahama Sendai

EPICENTER

Tsunami's landward extent, March 13

Sendai Airport

PACIFIC Minamisoma

OCEAN

Fukushima reactor no. 1 Fukushima reactor no. 2

Fukushima Airport

Futaba

Iwaki Hitachi Nakaminato

Narita Int'l

TOKYO Tokyo Int'l

SHAKING INTENSITY Very Strong Strong Severely damaged local ports

Figure 0.1. Japan Shaking. Source: Shaking intensity based on USGS, news reports.

DEAD and MISSING

DESTROYED BUILDINGS

AOMORI

AOMORI

(110)

(4)

Area of Detail

IWATE

IWATE

(6,300)

(11,00)

YAMAGATA (115)

YAMAGATA (1)

MIYAGI

MIYAGI

(100)

(6,100)

Sendai

Sendai FUKUSHIMA

FUKUSHIMA

(10,300)

(4,400)

TOCHIGI

TOCHIGI (4) GUNMA (1)

(26,000)

GUNMA IBARAKI (20)

(10,100)

IBARAKI (31,200)

SAITAMA (1,800)

Tokyo

Tokyo

CHIBA

KANAGAWA

(250)

(19)

(4)

CHIBA (3,200)

AOMORI

AOMORI

(90)

(440)

DISPLACED RESIDENTS

IWATE

(51,550)

YAMAGATA (1,880)

HOUSEHOLDS w/o WATER

IWATE

(1,400)

YAMAGATA

MIYAGI

(6,500)

(221,500)

(110,000)

AKITA

MIYAGI

(290,000)

Sendai

Sendai NIIGATA (2,500)

FUKUSHIMA

FUKUSHIMA

(131,600)

(320,000)

TOCHIGI GUNMA

(9,500)

(23,000)

NAGANO IBARAKI

TOCHIGI (10,000)

(800)

IBARAKI (670,000)

(12,300)

Tokyo

Tokyo

CHIBA

(230,000)

Figure 0.2. Dead and Missing, Destroyed Buildings, Displaced Residents, Households without Water by Prefectures as of March 20, 2011. Source: Cabinet of the Prime Minister.

4  Pradyumna P. Karan

sions, and other household items were spewed in the open (Kingston 2011). In a Japanese home, a threshold divides the outer public space from the inner private space; it separates and unites two opposite worlds (Mather, Karan, and Iijima 1998). Tatami mats, which are symbolic of Japanese homes’ interiors, were ejected outside the muddy thresholds. Farmers near Futaba, Okuma, and other towns close to the nuclear power plant abandoned their animals, leading to emaciated cows staggering through the streets in the weeks that followed. In towns a few miles farther from the plants, desolation and desperation persisted, and an eerie quiet reigned inside Fukushima’s desolate nuclear zone. Japan has close acquaintance with the destructive power of nature. But the same forces can also be benevolent. When a fleet carrying thousands of Mongols, Chinese, and Korean soldiers attempted to attack Japan in 1274, a major typhoon wrecked the fleet and thwarted the invasion. On this occasion, nature came to the rescue of Japan with the kamikaze, or divine wind. In the weeks following the earthquake and tsunami, life in Tokyo was transformed. The combination of power cuts, news of death and devastation, and fears of nuclear contamination had major impacts on the life of normally vibrant, noisy Tokyo. The heavily illuminated areas of the Shinjuku and Ginza districts were in semi-darkness as lights were dimmed, entertainment events were cancelled, and television poster advertisements were pulled down. The impacts of power cuts were pervasive. Most expatriate office workers and executives sent their wives and children to destinations in southern Japan. Radiation paranoia led international airlines to divert to Osaka and Nagoya. The extended closure of international schools prompted the exodus of expats in the wake of the disaster. Many workers stayed away from the offices, instead working from home or from offices outside Tokyo, transforming the traditionally rigid Japanese corporate culture. Fear of radioactive contamination hit the restaurant and food industry—particularly those dependent on fish sales. Business plunged at the sushi restaurants, as did the fish prices at Tokyo’s Tsukiji fish market. Lack of refrigeration capacity due to power cuts reduced the availability of frozen products. Tokyo’s hostess bars, which rely on corporate entertainment budgets, were hit hard. After the earthquake and tsunami, conferences, concerts, and festivals in Tokyo were also cancelled. In the Roppongi entertainment district of Tokyo (Cybriwsky 2011), the biggest American sports bar and a neighboring British-style pub, with their television screens blaring U.S. baseball and European football, had only a few customers. Usually the bars heave with expatriate office workers. Business was down about 40 percent in the weeks following the disaster. The unprecedented thirty-four-day closure of Tokyo Disneyland—normally open 365 days a year and one of the world’s most successful parks—in the wake of the devastating earthquake and tsunami symbolized another sense of loss. The closure cost park operator Oriental Land Company nearly $245 million (20.4 billion yen), and the shares of the company tumbled 17 percent. Tokyo Disneyland is independent of the Walt Disney Company, but pays about 7 percent of its revenue to the U.S. firm. In the year ended March 2010, it paid out 20.9 billion yen in royalties.

Introduction  5  

The operations of Tokyo Disneyland had a huge economic impact on its neighboring towns and hotels. The Sheraton Grande Tokyo Bay Hotel, on the perimeter of Tokyo Disneyland, was nearly empty while the park was closed. The disaster hit during Japan’s spring university recess, preventing higher casualties. Most of the universities and colleges in Tohoku spent the three weeks following 3/11 frantically trying to locate missing students and faculty. Buckled highways, blown-out phone networks, and a shortage of fuel hampered the search. The Advanced Institute for Materials Research at Tohoku University and other affected areas of the campus lost millions of dollars in broken equipment. The private Shuko University in Ichinoseki was hit by the tsunami. The quake and tsunami temporarily shut down several major research facilities in the region, including the Japan Proton Accelerator Research Complex, south of Sendai, and parts of the High-Energy Accelerator Research Organization in Tsukuba.

Land in Torment: 3/11 Earthquake, Tsunami, and Nuclear Radiation The deadly quake that struck off Sanriku on March 11 ruptured a relatively small part of a notorious fault that straddles the Pacific seabed. The 9.0-magnitude earthquake resulted from a collision of the Pacific plate and the plate that Japan sits on (see figure 0.3). As continental plates collide, in what is called a subduction zone, stresses build up in the earth’s crust. When these stresses are released, an earthquake occurs. In the March 11 earthquake this relief of stress caused a fifty-meter vertical movement of the crust along the subduction zone. This massive displacement of the sea floor produced a bigger-than-expected tsunami. Data supplied by a network of global positioning system (GPS) stations across Japan called GeoNet have helped unlock details of where the quake took place and what happened. The GeoNet system uses positioning sensors to provide millimetric mapping of land movements. In the fifteen years preceding the March 11 quake, the system showed a slow buildup of strain across Honshu as the mighty Pacific plate squeezed and dragged on the island’s eastern flank. Modeling of the stresses and strains placed upon Honshu island as the fault was torn apart indicated the epicenter was about 120 miles east of Sendai, at the heart of an extraordinarily compact, lozenge-shaped area of the ocean floor. Only a handful of earthquakes measuring 9.0 magnitude or more have been recorded, and they can rip open the sea floor over many hundreds of miles. The March quake points to a slippage zone that measures 240 miles by 120 miles. The sea bottom at the epicenter shifted by an astonishing ninety feet, resulting in a massive water displacement, which explains why the tsunami was so great. For more than a century, for good or ill, Japan has led the world in coastal development. Many of its coasts have long been lined by concrete seawalls or other protective armor. Typically, the central government pays most of the cost, and the prefectures and towns share the rest. Where artificial seawalls failed to protect their communities, it was because the tsunami exceeded the design conditions. But as the climate warms, sea levels will rise and powerful storms may come more frequently.

6  Pradyumna P. Karan

uto Kuraf

0

75 miles 75

0

Arc

Fault Line Volcanic Arc Volcano 150

North American Plate

1

il

r Ku

c Ar

150

kilometers

Hokkaido Node

6 Epicenters of Major Earthquakes Off Shakotan Peninsula (1940)

2

Off Oga Peninsula (1964) Off Niigata (1964)

4

Central Sea of Japan (1983) Off Noto Peninsula (1993)

3

Off Southwestern Hokkaido(1993)

5

Epicenter

Japan Trench

1 2 3 4 5 6

March 11, 2011

Eurasian Plate

Chubu Node

Sa gam i

Kyushu Node

S

gh Trou kai n a a-N urg

Trou gh

Pacific Plate

Philippine Plate

Figure 0.3. Tectonic Plates and Epicenters of Recent Major Earthquakes.

And Japan is particularly vulnerable because of tectonic forces. When the glaciers retreated about fifteen thousand years ago, land in the region bounced up; now it is sinking again. Meanwhile, ocean circulation patterns are changing in ways that push water up against the Pacific coast. From the hill above Kamaishi it is easy to see that much of the town and port were erased by the devastating surge of water that overflowed the sixty-three-meterdeep breakwater completed in 2008, at a cost of 120 billion yen ($1.5 billion), reflecting the futility of human efforts to tame nature by building seawalls. The ease with which the tsunami broke through seawall defenses was frightening. The collapse of

Introduction  7  

Photo 0.1. Tsunami waves overran the Taro seawall. (Photograph by Kenji Yamazaki)

the Yoshihama wall in Ofunato was an example of the much wider failure of antitsunami measures in place along the Sanriku Coast of northeastern Japan in the face of the ferocious pulse of water. Japanese coastal residents have been building seawall defenses since the 1850s. A six-hundred-meter-long and five-meter-high breakwater of stone and earth with plantings of pines and spindle trees was built in western Wakayama Prefecture by Goryo Hamaguchi, a local merchant. In Sanriku, coastal area seawalls have been repeatedly extended and modernized since 1896, when the first Great Sanriku Tsunami devastated towns and villages and killed nearly twenty-two thousand persons. Efforts to shield coastal communities by seawalls were reinforced when a tsunami hit in 1933, killing more than three thousand people. The seawalls failed to protect coastal communities from the size and power of the 3/11 tsunami (see figure 0.4). In the village of Hongo, near Kamaishi, there were two stone memorials marking the height the water reached in the 1896 and 1933 tsunamis. Based on these markings, Hongo residents felt safe building homes behind the village’s stout seawall, which they thought was high enough to hold back the tsunami waves. However, on March 11 the waves poured over both the seawall and the monuments. The force of the tsunami waves was strong enough to knock down and drag the two heavy stone memorials. The Yoshihama seawall and a barrier built at the mouth of the bay on which Ofunato port is built failed completely. Seawalls were overwhelmed all along the Sanriku Coast. Vast port areas of Ofunato and the fishing town of Otsuchi were washed away. In Ofunato, the commercial and industrial districts were a tangled mess of destroyed trucks, twisted steel building

8  Pradyumna P. Karan

Statue of Liberty

151'

Maximum March 11 wave height

133'

Figure 0.4. Tsunami’s Top.

Average human height 5' 4"

frames, and wooden logs that the wave turned into lethal missiles capable of punching through the seawalls. In Minamisanriku, about two miles north of Sendai, more than half the population of eighteen thousand was missing. Minamisanriku’s fishing port and market were destroyed; only 132 of the city’s 2,188 vessels survived the tsunami. The city center was littered with mangled cars, the splintered wood of wrecked homes, and the gutted shells of a few surviving concrete buildings. Few of the losses were felt as acutely as the destruction of hospitals. The tsunami destroyed three hospitals in Iwate, including Takata Hospital. Several others sustained serious earthquake damage. After the tsunami there was a surge in elderly patients with pneumonia, posing unexpected challenges for public health authorities. Kesennuma’s downtown was completely demolished. Parts of the city sank in the disaster. The earthquake and tsunami swallowed nearby Rikuzentakata, wiped away

Introduction  9  

the city’s downtown, and flattened the local economy. Studding the landscape were the gutted shells of City Hall, a hospital, and other buildings. Land at its fishing port dropped by about three feet. Wharfs were underwater at high tide. The total damage to Rikuzentakata from the disaster was eventually estimated at $1.5 billion—a staggering sum for a city already more than $100 million in debt. In Rikuzentakata, families of the deceased, many wearing black, laid flowers on flattened plots of land where their loved ones were believed to have died. More than two thousand people, or about 10 percent of the population, died in the fifteen-meter waves that swallowed the city. After the tsunami, walking in the once-bustling streets of Rikuzentakata was eerily like stepping into an image of Hiroshima after the atomic bomb. A few skeletons of concrete buildings stood out from a dismal plain of jumbled shards from what were once wooden homes in this seaside town. The fabric of the town was annihilated—kaimetsu, as local residents described the landscape. In the region’s main city of Sendai, which has a population of nearly 1 million, long queues for fuel and food formed everywhere. People wanted to get supplies, fill up their cars, and head south to stay with relatives. Sendai’s airport, a mile from the coast, was flooded by tsunami waves that engulfed the sleek glass terminal, and the baggage claim room was filled with debris. It was a devastated landscape of uprooted buildings, smashed vehicles that had been washed onto runways by the waves, and parked aircraft crumpled like paper toys. Nearly all of the nine thousand homes destroyed in the disaster in Sendai were along the coast. The tsunami also impacted the marine environment of Sendai Bay (Siswanto and Hashim 2012). Everyone felt the terrible force of the earthquake, but few witnessed the arrival of the massive tsunami about fifty minutes later. The waves swept over the coast, including the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant’s 5.5-meter-high concrete seawall, breaking it in places, then surged across a seafront road and crashed into buildings containing turbines and, behind them, the reactors. The tsunami reached more than fourteen meters above sea level—roughly the height of a five-story building—and the four lowest-lying reactors’ buildings were surrounded by swirling seawater four to five meters deep. A row of diesel generators located between the turbine buildings and the sea suffered critical damage. These were the plant’s backup power supply to cool the reactors. Left uncooled, the hot water inside ruptured the central chamber from steam pressure, releasing radioactive materials outside the chamber. Fukushima Daiichi was swamped by a natural catastrophe of historic proportion. Nuclear planners clearly did not appreciate how bad things could get on a low-lying coast in a seismic zone. Nuclear power provides 30 percent of Japan’s electricity. Japan’s nuclear anguish stems more from the way the industry is run than from its technological essence. Japanese people are angry at senior bureaucrats, who move on to jobs in the industries they used to regulate, and at TEPCO (Tokyo Electric Power Company), which owns Fukushima Daiichi, for a long record of shoddy safety standards and cover-ups. Three former executives of TEPCO—the chairman and two former heads of the utility’s nuclear division—were indicted in March 2016 and charged with professional

10  Pradyumna P. Karan

negligence resulting in death and injury. The prosecuting lawyers said that TEPCO knew the plant could be hit by a tsunami bigger than it was designed to withstand but made cost savings a higher priority. A total of twenty-five communities, mostly rural, host Japan’s fifty-four commercial reactors. Most of the towns agreeing to take in plants had struggling economies and saw the reactors as a way to diversify and strengthen their local communities, and as a new source of government revenues. Over the past forty years, Japan’s government and nine nuclear utilities have doled out more than 3 trillion yen (about $38 billion) to current and prospective host towns. In 2015, four years after the triple disaster, its impact continues to reverberate. In coastal Tohoku, nearly 270,000 people remain displaced from their homes, with nearly 100,000 living in cramped temporary housing, some jobless, some without hope, as they face an uncertain future. The Fukushima accident severely contaminated surrounding towns within and beyond a twenty-kilometer exclusion zone, forcing tens of thousands of residents to relocate. Since the disaster, more than three thousand refugees have died from medical problems and suicides. In Fukushima Prefecture, more people have died of disaster-related causes after the disaster (more than 1,650) than were killed in the disaster (1,607). Many people are abandoning hope of returning to their homes. Nearly 40 percent of the displaced people want to return to where they once lived, but they lack the money to relocate (Itonaga 2014, 257).

Tohoku’s Geography, Economy, and Society The rugged ria coastline of Sanriku, with wave-eroded cliffs and deep-blue-green waters, is one of the most beautiful places in Japan. Pines cover the surrounding bluffs and crabs and small fish mingle in the rock pools, making the region worthy of the title Jodogahama (“Pure Land”), bestowed upon it by the Buddhist monk Reikyo, who first saw it in the seventeenth century. This spectacular coast, with its rock pillars, sheer cliffs, deep inlets, and narrow river valleys, was designated Rikuchu Kaigan National Park in 1955 (see figure 0.5). Stretching for nearly one hundred miles, the Sanriku coastline and its seaward spurs form grand and imposing headlands in the park. A handsome forest of red pines graces the shoreline at Jodogahama, near the town of Miyako. The proud ruggedness of the Sanriku Coast, punctuated by scenery of graceful beauty, is reflected in the character of its people. The region is remote and the poorest in Tohoku, but the warm and friendly people have always been proud and independent. In feudal times, they were quick to pick quarrels with their mountain neighbors, the people of Tsugaru, now Aomori Prefecture, whose relative prosperity they resented. Though fine warriors, the people of Sanriku lost most of their battles, impoverishing themselves even more. Tohoku is an unusual place, and part of its resilience is culturally specific. Its tight-knit, independent streak dates back centuries. More than eleven hundred years ago, the last time a tsunami of such scale lashed its shores, its people were known by southerners as Emishi (insubordinate northerners). At that time, they had been vanquished by the Yamato clan.

Introduction  11  

0

25 miles

Kuji

0

25 kilometers

Rikuchu Kaigan National Park

Fudai

Morioka Miyako

Yamada Bay Yamada

Funakoshi Bay

Kamaishi

Ofunato Goishi Coast Kesennuma

Kesennuma Bay

Figure 0.5. Rikuchu Kaigan National Park.

Life in these coastal towns of Tohoku has never been easy. In terms of both regional GDP and per capita GDP, Tohoku ranks low (see figure 0.6). Manufacturing never took root in the region, and many people have traditionally had to migrate to the big cities, seeking seasonal work to support their families. In the March 11 disaster, countless people in closely packed settlements lost their livelihoods—if not their lives—in an instant. When nuclear power stations were built in Japan, local residents and local governments in Tohoku received generous subsidies and consented to host such plants along the coastline despite the risks. The disaster slammed a region where the population was disproportionately old, unemployed, and reliant on an inefficient, protected farming sector (see figure 0.7). Ever since the Yayoi era, when agriculture in Japan became dominated by wetland rice cultivation, the Tohoku region has been largely agricultural. This situation remained essentially unchanged even after the Meiji Restoration. Tohoku never assumed a dominant position in the development of Japan. At the same time, Tohoku has experienced natural disasters, such as cold-weather damage, poor harvests, and tidal waves, that have caused productivity to lag behind the levels achieved in other regions. Tohoku has remained primarily a food-producing region. From early in the

12  Pradyumna P. Karan

GDP per person by prefecture (thousands $)

HOKKAIDO* (3.5)

25.0 to 25.9 30.0 to 34.9 35.0 to 40.9 41.0 to 44.9 More than 45.0

TOHOKU (6.4)

Japanese average=$36,900 *Percent of region's contribution to Japan's GDP 2007

CHUBU (18.2)

EPICENTER

EVACUATION AREA

CHUGOKU (5.7)

TOKYO

KANTO (37.0)

KANSAI (17.2) SHIKOKU (2.6) KYUSHU (8.7) Figure 0.6. Regional Contributions to Japan’s GDP, and GDP per Person by Prefecture. Source: Japan Statistics Bureau.

Showa era, agricultural productivity in Tohoku improved due to positive changes in techniques, pesticides, and greater incentives for good husbandry resulting from land reforms, mechanization of farming, construction of new fields, and improvements in field layouts (Itakura 1982). Fishing and farming are two of the region’s biggest employers. Farmers’ livelihoods were eroded by the nuclear crisis. Fukushima’s seventy thousand commercial farmers produced more than $2.4 billion worth of spinach, tomatoes, milk, and other foods annually. Japanese officials banned the sales of food such as spinach and milk, which are especially prone to absorbing radiation. More than 40 percent of

Iwate Miyagi Fukushima

TOKYO

160,000 140,000

150,000

120,000

Job Seekers

100,000 80,000 60,000 40,000

People Collecting Unemployment

20,000 0

Jan ’11

Jan ’12

Figure 0.7. Unemployment in Three Hardest-Hit Prefectures. Source: Ministry of Health, Tokyo, Japan.

14  Pradyumna P. Karan

the farmland around the coastal city of Sendai was soaked with salt water, sludge, and garbage. In Miyagi Prefecture alone, more than thirty-seven thousand acres of farmland was covered with salt water and debris. Rivers, groundwater sources, and fishing areas were also at risk, as everything from factory barrels to hospital trash bins to high school laboratory chemicals were washed out by the waves, contaminating waters. The waterfront of Yamamoto, a sleepy seaside suburb of Sendai, had strawberry farms along the coast that were destroyed by the tsunami and soaked with salt water and garbage. Hundreds of greenhouses were washed away along with farm equipment. It will take years of work for farming to bounce back in the area. Across northeast Tohoku, the earthquake and tsunami obliterated the fishing industry and the ports. The Japanese Fisheries Agency data show that most of the 253 fishing harbors in Miyagi and Iwate were wiped out by the disaster. Estimated damage to fishing facilities (excluding ports) in Miyagi and Iwate was listed at 75.6 billion yen ($914 million). Miyagi’s fishing industry—Japan’s second biggest, with an annual catch of 380,000 tons—was annihilated. About twelve thousand of the prefecture’s fourteen thousand registered fishing vessels were destroyed. The devastation in Tohoku had an impact on the wider fishing industry in Japan. In 2010, Tokyo’s Tsukiji fish market, the world’s largest, hauled more than twenty-two thousand tons of fish from Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima, worth 13.4 billion yen ($162 million). However, since 3/11, trading in fish from the prefectures fell to zero. The tsunami also ruined Tohoku’s aquaculture industry, including the cultivation of wakame seaweed—a common ingredient in Japanese cuisine, such as miso soup—the majority of which comes from Iwate and Miyagi. The fishing industry may suffer a longer-term impact from the nuclear crisis, as the damaged plant is leaking radiation into the sea (Gill, Steger, and Slater 2013). Under government management, a steel plant was established at Kamaishi in 1874. The country needed a domestic supply of iron ore, and the hilly country about twenty kilometers inland from the port had ample reserves. Kamaishi played a key role in Japan’s modernization and militarization. Its economy was booming in the 1950s. In the 1970s its economy began to decline. Nippon Steel began moving its operations out of Kamaishi, eventually closing the blast furnaces in 1989. Its population, nearly one hundred thousand just fifty years ago, has fallen below forty thousand, and is aging. In 1978, the central government began building the deepest and most expensive breakwater in Kamaishi harbor to protect the city against tsunamis as well as to create jobs. Kamaishi is located at the head of a ria (a long, narrow inlet that gradually decreases in depth from mouth to head), and the advancing tsunami waves on March 11 “funneled,” gaining height, tearing apart the breakwater and inundating most of the city (Matanle 2011, 834). Ayukawahama in Miyagi Prefecture was the headquarters of Ayukawa Whaling, which hunted large whales (Karan 2005, 28). It was one of the few communities in Japan that carried on whaling and eating whales as a part of the local culture. The 3/11 tsunami destroyed the town, forcing most of its fourteen hundred residents into shelters. Japan’s tsunami succeeded in stopping whaling where protests and

Introduction  15  

boycotts by environmentalists had failed. Ayukawa Whaling and other companies are allowed to take fifty minke whales under Japan’s whaling program for research. A traditional way of life was imperiled suddenly by the wave. Much of the growth in Tohoku has come from giant public works projects, such as the building of seawalls. In some communities, such as Futaba, siting of a nuclear power plant has contributed to development. Futaba was a declining coal mining town in the 1960s, and most of its workers were migrating to Tokyo. When Tokyo Electric Power Company approached the town about possibly building a nuclear power plant in the area, the town readily agreed to host the facility on nine hundred acres of farmland. Fukushima Daiichi’s reactors came online in the 1970s and provided employment to thousands of workers. The town’s population increased from seven thousand to nearly nine thousand. In addition, Futaba received substantial subsidies from the national government and property tax revenues from Tokyo Electric. Like in many towns and cities in Tohoku, jobs started to vanish when the economy stalled in the early 1990s. As young people moved to Tokyo and other large cities in Kanto, the shrinking population could not sustain local businesses in Tohoku. Migration accelerated in 2011 after the tsunami and radiation threat. The number of people who moved out of Miyagi, Fukushima, and Iwate Prefectures—the three prefectures most affected by the tsunami—quadrupled from 2010’s figures to more than forty thousand, the highest in four decades. More than one thousand people migrated from Rikuzentakata in 2011, leaving a population of twenty thousand. More than one-third of Rikuzentakata residents are older than sixty-five. The disasters took a particularly high toll on the elderly. Adults sixty-five and older in Sanriku were the least prepared of any subgroup of the population. They faced increased levels of mortality and morbidity. While more attention has been paid to this problem, those who provided services to the elderly victims of the disaster or handle emergency preparedness say more must be done—both to address immediate needs and to deal with the drawn-out effects of disasters like the quake and tsunami. Most older adults have chronic diseases and take multiple prescription drugs that they must have with them in an evacuation. About a third live alone and may not have anyone to help. They can have impaired mobility and cognitive deficiencies, problems that make it hard to get out of danger quickly. Evacuation brings its own hazards, as older people’s health can deteriorate quickly in shelters. Alerts and communications that are helpful for a younger, healthier population, telling people to head for an evacuation center, may be of little use. Being old, being frail, and being unconnected were lethal in Sanriku. Most commonly and most immediately, the survivors had post-traumatic stress symptoms, such as recurrent nightmares, flashbacks, hair-trigger tempers, and emotional “numbing.” Over time, when those symptoms abated, survivors were able to move on. When they did not, or when other mood disorders appeared, such as anxiety and depression, mental health issues quickly became a leading cause of disability (Parkes 2014). The psychological fallout persists even after the disaster. What communities, governments, and elected officials did in the weeks, months, and years

16  Pradyumna P. Karan

following the disaster significantly affected how some individuals fared psychologically. For example, among tsunami and quake victims, there were striking differences in the rates of mental health disorders, depending on how people felt about the difficulties they had finding food and shelter. Survivors who continued to face such adversity because of the government’s slow response had significantly higher rates of mental health problems. The best thing the central, state, and local governments can do to protect against psychopathology in these kinds of situations is to restore the day-to-day functioning that keeps everyone healthy. People pull together at times of disaster. To the extent those affected by tsunamis can build on this sense of community and get back to normal, it could be an opportunity for people to grow and even develop a sense of accomplishment because of what they have been through. The Sanriku Coast is already a backwater, contributing just 4 percent to the broader economy. It needs a reinvention of existing industries and the introduction of new ones to encourage the younger generation to stay, stemming the annual out-migration to the Kanto Region. The revitalization of the fishing industry in this region is important, because the coastal prefectures most damaged by the tsunami account for between 40 and 55 percent of Japan’s total fishing and aquaculture. The disaster should be a catalyst for the region to reinvent itself and the accompanying fishing and farming industries. The Japanese government is trying to woo businesses to Tohoku with a range of tax breaks and subsidies. Ontario-based solar panel maker Canadian Solar Inc. plans to build power-generating solar farms in areas where farmland has become too salt-soaked for crops.

Disaster Prevention and Recovery in Japan After the Showa Nankai earthquake of 1946, Japan enacted the Disaster Relief Act, which provided guidelines for government relief activities and financial aid. It was followed by the Basic Act on Disaster Control Measures of 1961 after massive destruction by Typhoon Vera. It was generally held that top-down government leadership can achieve quick recovery as well as promote development and reconstruction of the affected area. In recent years, community participatory approaches (machizukuri) involving local community groups in the reconstruction planning are becoming more significant, and have been supported by the Architecture Institute of Japan (2010). In response to the 3/11 disaster, the central government published Towards Reconstruction—Hope Beyond the Disaster, which emphasizes community development as the focus of the recovery and reconstruction process. The Basic Act on Reconstruction in Response to the Great East Japan Earthquake passed on June 24, 2011. It established a Reconstruction Agency, which began functioning in February 2012, nearly a year after the triple disaster. By 2012 several towns and cities had formulated “basic recovery plans” listing major reconstruction projects, including construction of seawalls, raising low-lying land, and relocation of people to higher ground. Since the national government pays 80 percent of the cost of engineering projects, local municipalities include them in reconstruction plans without serious consideration of desirability or necessity. Emphasis on the construction of giant

Introduction  17  

seawalls is possibly linked to the influence of the construction industry in planning strategy and policy at the highest levels of the Liberal Democratic Party government. As reconstruction and development progresses in Tohoku, the bottom-up community development process appears to be facing a deadlock, and some planners (Satoh 2013) have suggested a more collaborative, regionally integrated, community participatory (machizukuri) process covering a couple of cities, towns, and villages in the prefecture, one in which land use, urban planning, civil engineering, architecture, public administration, and social policies are more integrated, with wideranging expertise and knowledge, long-term commitment, and involvement of all stakeholders. Japan is formulating a new five-year plan to promote reconstruction in Tohoku (Japan Times, March 10, 2015). The central government has pledged 25 trillion yen (about $206 billion) for reconstruction and radiation cleanup as part of a “concentrated recovery program” (Fackler 2015). Local governments have been overwhelmed by the task of rebuilding. Many towns have fallen behind and have not been able to spend available recovery funds. The delay is due to the shortage of contractors to bid on construction projects, a result of the boom in post-tsunami rebuilding. Lucrative Olympic-related construction in Tokyo has made the shortage worse. By June 2015, most of the tsunami debris had been disposed of, and in several towns hillsides have been leveled into elevated plains where new residential areas will be built for nearly eighty-seven thousand survivors still living in cramped, prefabricated housing. The flooded grounds of town centers are being raised. Rikuzentakata, a town completely destroyed by the fifteen-meter-high tsunami, is on the fast track toward reconstruction. The city is building two seawalls, each 1.8 kilometers long, one three meters high and the other twelve and a half meters, as part of efforts to mitigate the threat of future tsunamis. It is also raising the land in the coastal zone by nearly ten meters. A temporary bridge over the Kessen River links a three-kilometer conveyor belt system that carries forty thousand tons of soil and gravel—the equivalent of four thousand ten-ton truckloads—from the hill each day. The conveyor belt system, built in March 2014 at a cost of 12 billion yen, will shorten the reconstruction time.

Challenges To stand in the wasteland that was central Rikuzentakata is to sense the scale of the challenge faced by towns and settlements along the Sanriku Coast. Japan faces the herculean task of rebuilding the coastal prefectures—a new, vastly different challenge from the reconstruction of Kobe following the earthquake that leveled large parts of that city in January 1995 (Edgington 2010). Unlike Kobe, reconstruction in Tohoku must include improvement of the living standards of the people from what they were before the earthquake and tsunami. Government leaders are adamant that tsunami reconstruction should support economic sustainability in a region where a rapidly aging population and stagnating traditional industries have left many towns in steep decline.

18  Pradyumna P. Karan

The major challenges facing the region after the disaster are the reconstruction plan, including relocation of villages and towns from low-lying land to higher areas; processing a huge amount of solid waste; and the shutdown of the Fukushima Nuclear Power Station and the related decisions about Japan’s future energy policy. Many residents of the coastal area are unhappy with the speed of reconstruction, which they blame on lack of government leadership. Reconstruction has also been slowed by the extent of the destruction and by the nuclear crisis at Fukushima Daiichi. Reconstruction requires wrenching decisions about how to rebuild coastal communities, many of which were in economic and demographic decline even before the disaster. Planners want to create towns that are more compact, tsunami-resistant, and environmentally sustainable. These goals conflict with the desire of residents to return to life as it was before. The reconstruction plan contains a new “smart city” concept, but time is being taken over the implementation process due to the extent of both the shock and damage. A number of sensitive questions arise with respect to the devastated villages and towns. For instance, should all villages and towns move to higher ground in order to be safe from future tsunamis, or should they stay as before in order to revive the fishery industry, albeit at a higher risk from tsunamis? Several archaeological excavations have established that Japan has suffered a huge earthquake and tsunami approximately once every thousand years. Meanwhile, the total volume of solid waste from the March 11 tsunami is over 24 million tons, which is equivalent to approximately one hundred years’ worth of collected trash, and this must be dumped somewhere. Embanking breakwaters, highly elevated roads, and railways with some of the material offers a partial solution, but complex regulations and legislation obstruct quick decision making. As of March 2015, Iwate Prefecture had constructed 1,049 publicly funded replacement homes for survivors, which is only 18 percent of the planned total of 5,933 units. Miyagi Prefecture had built 2,692 housing units, or 17.4 percent of its planned 15,484 units. In Fukushima, only 261 units—5 percent of the planned 4,890 units—were available for nuclear disaster evacuees. Only 1,190 replacement houses, or 44 percent of the 2,702 units planned, were constructed for tsunami and earthquake survivors in Fukushima Prefecture. In Iwate, 22,300 people were living in prefab temporary housing as of January 2015, and in Miyagi 35,332. The situation in Fukushima, with nuclear radiation and tsunami flooding, remained problematic in 2015. In early 2015, 24,098 people were still living in temporary housing. About 15 percent of the displaced families had moved away from temporary units as of March 2014 (Murai 2015). While large construction funds have been allocated, only half has been spent toward cleanup and rebuilding of roads and other infrastructure. The unspent sum was $30 billion in March 2014. The government announced its intent to build ten thousand new houses during 2015. The central government provides money to local administrators, but those administrators clearly lack the personnel and expertise to carry out reconstruction work (Godzik 2013). Devastated communities in Sanriku need long-range planning for residential, business, and commercial development, which will require more direction and engagement from the central government.

Introduction  19  

Photo 0.2. Junichi Kanazawa, a tsunami survivor, discusses relocation plans with Unryu Suganuma in Taro. (Photograph by P. P. Karan)

The physical impact of the disaster is devastatingly clear. Japan’s public is facing adversity with admirable fortitude, it largely approves of the government’s handling of the earthquake and tsunami, but it is not happy with its response to the nuclear disaster, which is still uncontained at Fukushima Daiichi. Japan’s crisis might have been manageable had it consisted only of an earthquake and tsunami. The country was well prepared for such events, having learned from flaws in its response to the 1995 earthquake that devastated Kobe. The government’s reaction to the nuclear crisis was initially incoherent (Kushida 2014). Communication with the company running the Fukushima nuclear plant was confusing. Worse was the cronyish links between Japan’s politicians and its private nuclear industry. Independent nuclear advice and effective crisis management in the hours after the disaster could have prevented the spread of the radiation. The immediate problems facing Japan demanded swift, unified decision making. In the longer term, Japan must make key decisions on nuclear policy, and on how to rebuild the shattered Tohoku coast. This means taking on vested interests, such as private nuclear companies and their supporters as well as private landowners opposed to new public housing in their areas. The tsunami-battered Sanriku Coast must be rebuilt as a safe and sustainable model for the nation, with residents rehoused on higher ground, declining industries reorganized, and regional farming, fishing, and tourism revived. Japan has reviewed its nationwide plan to strengthen tsunami preparedness (Hein 2014). Despite progress in risk assessment, tsunami disaster mitigation planning faces great challenges in securing mass evacuation in the event of a mega-tsunami. Local risk assessment policies and disaster management plans are not robust enough to reduce damage from a mega-tsunami despite very advanced risk control systems because local autonomy is hampered by top-down prefectural and national bureaucracy, lack of enforcement, and unrealistic response planning for what to do if protective measures fail. Recovery of the fishing and seafood industry has been slow. According to a survey by the Fisheries Agency, only 53 percent of seafood production facilities in Iwate Pre-

20  Pradyumna P. Karan

fecture were operating at 80 percent of their predisaster levels in early 2015. In Miyagi and Fukushima Prefectures, the figures were lower, at 50 and 25 percent, respectively. The slump in Tohoku’s fisheries is due to delays in the recovery of seafood processing factories and radiation fears stemming from the Fukushima nuclear disaster. Although frustration grows at the slow pace of recovery, the determined spirit of the Japanese people captured in the phrase fukutsu no seishin (“never give up”) will help them meet the challenges of reconstruction. It is a common exhortation in Japanese culture. Equally important are the strong sense of shared purpose and the thread of community that are woven tightly through all Japanese. Japan has a history of planting seeds of rebirth at times of difficulty.

Organization of the Book Contributions to this book by scholars in the social and natural sciences and the humanities are organized in five parts. The first part discusses geographical, historical, and environmental impacts of the earthquake and tsunami on the region. The second considers the nuclear radiation crisis and implications of the disaster for Japan’s future energy policy. The third part provides an analysis of the impact of the disaster on business and industry. The fourth analyzes the socioeconomic dimensions of the response to the disaster and of reconstruction problems. The fifth part compares responses to natural disasters in Japan, China, India, and New Zealand. An overview of topics discussed in the book is presented in this introduction to provide a deeper understanding of the issues.

Part 1. Earthquake and Tsunami Damage In chapter 1, geographer Unryu Suganuma provides a history of major earthquakes and tsunamis in Japan. Junko Oikawa discusses her firsthand experience of facing the 3/11 tsunami waves in chapter 2. Along the coast of Tohoku, hundreds of stone tsunami monuments dot the landscape, marking the height of the water. They are silent testimony to the past destruction by these lethal waves. Ancestors of the present residents knew the horrors of tsunamis (Scidmore 1896), and they erected the tsunami stones as warnings across generations. Some stones are so old that the characters are worn away. Many carry warnings to drop everything and seek higher ground after a strong earthquake. Some stones were swept away by the March 11 tsunami. But modern Japan, confident that advanced technology and higher seawalls would protect vulnerable areas, came to forget or ignore these ancient warnings. In chapter 3, Yukiko Dejima gives an excellent account of the earthquakes and tsunamis in Japanese literature. This is an exceptional contribution because hardly any disaster researcher has explored how writers have expressed extreme events in their works. The best-known poem by the region’s most beloved poet, Kenji Miyazawa (born in 1896), starts, “Be not defeated by the rain.” It extols the virtues of good grace and endurance. In a 2014 book, Marie Mutsuki Mockett, whose mother’s family lives in a Zen temple south of the Fukushima nuclear power plant, describes the stubborn anguish of personal grief and the experience of the tsunami.

Introduction  21  

Nara University geographer Masatomo Umitsu provides a tantalizing physiographic view of the tsunami disaster on the Pacific Coast of Tohoku in chapter 4. Japanese scientists at the Earthquake Research Institute at the University of Tokyo found how the lethal offshore fault slipped slowly just before it ripped loose. That slow slip now appears to have loaded the fault to the breaking point, triggering the devastating quake of March 2011. The Tohoku-Oki segment of the fault had been slowly accumulating stress for about a millennium. When the slow-slip pulse delivered a load of stress, it triggered the mega-quake. The shape of the coastlines along Kamaishi Bay, Ishinomaki Bay, and other areas in Sanriku may have amplified the power of the tsunami. Tsunamis can be amplified when their frequencies match certain features of the coast, such as shape and depth—especially where coastlines are deeply indented (Tanaka, Yagasawa, and Yasuda 2012). In the city of Higashi Matsushima in Miyagi Prefecture, west of Ishinomaki Bay, the tsunami reached ten meters, much higher than the previously predicted maximum of four meters for the area, destroying more than 70 percent of the houses (Japan Times 2012). The oysters, scallops, and seaweed harvested from the waters off Tohoku are renowned. But the 3/11 tsunami gutted the fish markets and destroyed seafood processing facilities along the coast. More than 90 percent of the fishing boats were damaged. For the few whose boats survived, there was no place to sell or store the catch. Most fishermen are waiting for the prefectural fishing cooperatives to draft plans to restore the industry and will require financial support from the central government. The shallow waters where fishermen once grew oysters became a repository for wrecked boats and cars after the tsunami. Tohoku Gakuin University’s Takehiko Takano discusses in chapter 5 the tsunami damage and reconstruction plan in Onagawa, and University of Wisconsin geographer Todd Stradford examines damage in Taro in chapter 6. In Onagawa and Taro, Japan faced one of its greatest cleanup jobs after the tsunami. Satellite images suggested there could be as much as 24 million tons of debris littering the coastal areas, and that estimate did not include the hundreds of thousands of vehicles destroyed by the tsunami or the many boats and ships washed inland. And then there were millions of tons of sludge left behind by

Photo 0.3. The first two floors of the Taro Kanko Hotel were wiped out by the tsunami waves. (Photograph by P. P. Karan)

22  Pradyumna P. Karan

the waters. The wave height in Onagawa’s port was about fifteen meters, and almost all plains were inundated, including 116.4 hectares of built-up area in the main inlet. Taro’s huge wall was overwhelmed, but it at least slowed the deadly surge, saving many lives. The surviving residents of Taro are now scattered in temporary housing. During the weeks following the disaster, the flattened center of the fishing port of Taro was a hive of activity. Construction crews and engineering troops from Japan’s SelfDefense Forces were using diggers to pick through residential areas, while convoys of trucks shifted wreckage to a temporary dump in the town’s baseball field. More than two hundred of Taro’s forty-four hundred residents were missing, feared dead. In Minamisanriku, a group of fishermen decided to form their own producers’ association to rebuild together without waiting for help from the government. They share boats and equipment, meaning each of them needs less capital and has lower overhead. When the local media took notice, donations began to flow in. The disaster has unleashed a wave of civic action in a country long known for the tepid nature of its political and volunteer pursuits. One way to create awareness of tsunami dangers and to reduce damages from such disasters is to pass down tsunami history and experience to schoolchildren and citizens through picture story shows. Picture stories are a popular form of entertainment for children and young folks in Japan. Pictures are drawn on large cards and a storyteller tells a story while showing the picture cards one by one in a dramatic fashion, acting out the scene. In chapter 7, Tomoko Yamazaki of Iwate University writes about two tsunami storytellers, Mrs. Tabata and Mrs. Araya, who experienced both the 1933 and 2011 disasters. Picture story shows serve as a warning and as a guide to dealing with a tsunami, and the young folks learn how to escape from the onrushing waters. Ryohei Sekine of Tohoku University discusses in chapter 8 the damage to farming and agriculture in the Sendai Plain. The discovery that rice straw contaminated with excessive levels of cesium tainted beef cattle fanned fears that the rice crop in Fukushima and surrounding areas might also be affected (see figure 0.8). Rice straw from the area was shipped to fifteen prefectures, raising concerns that contamination could spread farther. Fukushima Prefecture, showered with radiation in March 2011, is the fourth largest rice-producing region in the country. The safety of rice is particularly important in Japan. It occupies a special place in Japan’s culture and history. As radiation threat rattled Japan’s food chain, demand for rice that was harvested in 2010—before the accident—soared. It is not easy to determine how much of a radioactive element is safe to ingest. Scientists agree that high doses of radiation are harmful to a person’s health, but there is little reliable information on the effects of low doses, especially when the exposure is coming from inside the body after contaminated food is eaten (Itoh et al. 2014). Radiation in food is measured in units called becquerels using instruments that track the release of radioactive energy or particles. Different nations have different limits. For example, the United States does not raise flags about radioactive cesium in beef until levels hit 1,200 becquerels per kilogram (2.2 pounds), but Japan draws the line at 500. The first tainted Fuku-

Introduction  23  

lake

0

20

Fukushima Daiichi

40 km

Level of radioactive cesium (Bq/kg of soil) Less than 1,000 1,000 to 5,000 5,001 to 10,000

10,001 to 25,000 More than 25,000 Evacuation zone

Figure 0.8. Levels of Radioactive Cesium. Sources: Japanese Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries and the Japanese Nuclear Safety Commission.

shima beef measured 2,300 becquerels per kilogram. The United States treats all food the same: a limit of 170 becquerels per kilogram for radioactive iodine, 1,200 becquerels per kilogram for radioactive cesium. Japan breaks down food into more categories, drawing the line at 2,000 becquerels of radioactive iodine per kilogram in vegetables, 300 becquerels per kilogram for milk. Contaminated fish were caught fifty miles south of the reactors. Reports of contaminated fish followed reports of tainted produce, including spinach and broccoli, as well as raw milk in areas close to the nuclear power plant. In order to remove radioactive cesium from soil, canola flowers have been planted in former rice fields near Minamisoma, a coastal city that straddles the edge of the evacuation zone, about twenty-five kilometers from the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant. Canola has been used to absorb cesium in areas surrounding Chernobyl to decontaminate farmlands. Each crop absorbs a small amount of cesium. It will take several years to decontaminate the soil (Iwata 2015). Farmers who are determined to rebuild face a major obstacle: large loans outstanding on their wrecked greenhouses and salt-soaked rice paddies and cucumber

24  Pradyumna P. Karan

and tomato fields. The farmers need new loans to repair their facilities and homes, and still more if they want to buy new, untainted land. The government has offered to underwrite the use of an expensive greenhouse for a small group farm, which would quickly give them a modest income. Alternatively, government reviews their finances for the next six months to consider waiving their debts and may allow them to apply for fresh loans to buy land and equipment. If farmers join the group farm, their new income will reduce their chances of loan forgiveness; if they wait for debt relief, the deadline to access the greenhouse will expire. Farmers, fishermen, grocery store operators, and homeowners throughout the disaster zone have termed this “double-loan.” Several thousand risk bankruptcy as they try to repay existing debts. Disaster-hit firms and individuals have around $7.2 billion in outstanding loans, as reported by Japan’s Financial Services Agency in 2011. New government programs encourage lenders to consider debt waivers for individuals, and will buy outstanding loans from small companies deemed capable of rebuilding. After the tsunami, thousands of displaced families in Tohoku were housed in more than fifty thousand temporary living units built by the central government, while aid organizations donated microwaves, rice cookers, and appliances. Conditions in these units are better than those in community shelters used after the tsunami, where family members often slept together in spaces the size of a blanket surrounded by cardboard walls, but space is still tight in the prefabricated housing. A family of three generally is allotted about three hundred square feet of space—including sleeping space, a kitchen, and a bathroom—under the roof of a long, trailer-like structure shared with several families. Generally the small kitchen is hard to navigate because of sacks of rice and other supplies stacked for lack of space. Most bedrooms are large enough for the person to sprawl out on the floor. These temporary buildings are crammed into small plots of land, separated by narrow walkways, and are located far from stores or job opportunities (Fackler 2013).

Part 2. Nuclear Radiation Crisis: Living with Radiation Geographers Jonathan Taylor and Unryu Suganuma discuss the future of nuclear power in Japan and nuclear energy politics in chapters 9 and 10. Tokyo Electric Power Company (TEPCO) has struggled with radioactive water, which started to surge earlier in 2013 with leaks from the underground storage tanks, followed by the discovery that contaminated groundwater is flowing into the sea (Yamaguchi 2013). Levels of radiation being measured in the ocean do not appear significant, as of early 2016. Still, Japanese believe the flow is a sign that TEPCO has failed to manage the site properly since the tsunami-caused power outage sent the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant’s three active reactors out of control. Movements against nuclear power plants have emerged across Japan, such as the sixty-thousand-citizen Goodbye Nuclear Power Plants [Sayonara Genpatsu] rally in central Tokyo on September 19, 2011 (Ogawa 2013). Fukushima Daiichi was built over forty years ago on the site of a river that was diverted in order to situate the plant. It should have been clear that lots of ground-

Introduction  25  

water would be rushing through the site, and that any walls or barriers built on the seaward side would soon be overwhelmed—something that, indeed, happened in 2013. Groundwater contamination levels spiked in 2013 at the seaward side of the plant. Water was flowing into the ocean past a series of walls, plugs, and barriers that had been flung up to impede its passage. The Fukushima nuclear plants were built to withstand quakes of magnitude 8.2, not the 9.0 that struck on 3/11. The difference sounds small, but given the logarithmic scale, this represents a fifteen-fold increase in force. The Vienna-based UN International Atomic Energy Agency, in a report released in May 2015, criticized TEPCO and Japanese regulatory authorities for their failure to prevent the Fukushima nuclear plant disaster despite knowing the risk of a large tsunami hitting the facility (Japan Times, May 25, 2015). The report compiled by around 180 experts from forty-two countries addresses the causes and consequences of the Fukushima disaster. TEPCO did not implement sufficient safety measures and lacked protection for emergency diesel generators, battery rooms, and other vital systems against tsunami-caused flooding. The operators were not prepared for the multiunit loss of power and the loss of cooling caused by the tsunami. Although TEPCO had developed accident management guidelines, it did not cover such a rare combination of a powerful earthquake, mega-tsunami, and flooding. The lessons learned from the Fukushima disaster are expected to serve as a reference for nuclear safety measures worldwide. Toshio Hatsuzawa of Fukushima University and Takehiko Takano of Tohoku Gakuin University discuss the pattern of radioactive pollution in Fukushima Prefecture in chapter 11. A comprehensive survey of soil contamination from the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant showed that thirty-three locations spread over a wide area were contaminated with long-lasting radioactive cesium (see figure 0.9). Within a sixty-two-mile radius of the crippled plant, cesium-137 in excess of 1.48 million becquerels per square meter was recorded. Cesium-137 has a half-life of thirty years, meaning its radioactive emissions will decline only by half after thirty years and will affect the environment for several generations (Obe 2011). Residents of the evacuated areas criticized the plant’s operator, TEPCO, for failing to reimburse them for the value of their homes. They have received amounts from half the preaccident value to just $3,000, a tiny fraction of the original value. These amounts are not enough to relocate farther from the plant, which is still leaking radiation. The 357 villagers with homes within the twelve-mile zone received the highest compensation, about half the preaccident value of their homes. Fearful of radiation, villagers are reluctant to return, and are living in barracks-like temporary housing. Their monthly stipends from TEPCO ended in March 2015. Five years after the nuclear disaster, Japan is still struggling in March 2016 to clean up the radiationcontaminated area around Fukushima (Negishi and Pfanner 2016; Soble 2016). As the environmental damage around the plant and in the ocean nearby continues to accumulate more than four years after the disaster, Japanese are beginning to question whether the plant’s operator has the ability to manage such a complex

26  Pradyumna P. Karan

Sea of Japan

YAMAGATA

EPICENTER

MIYAGI

PACIFIC OCEAN

NIIGATA

Cumulative radiation March 12-23: 100 millisieverts 500 millisieverts 1,000 millisieverts 10,000 millisieverts

FUKUSHIMA U.S. evacuation zone

Japan evacuation zone

0

TOCHIGI

IBARAKI

25 0

miles 25

50 50

kilometers

Figure 0.9. Extent of Radiation from Fukushima and Evacuation Zones, March 30, 2011. Source: Japan’s Nuclear Safety Technology Center.

crisis. A major criticism involves the government’s decision to leave the cleanup in the hands of TEPCO, which has seemed incapable of getting the plant fully under control. Each quick fix TEPCO took seemed only to produce new problems, and further damaged its flagging credibility and only deflected hard decisions into the future. The government-run committee that oversaw TEPCO’s cleanup was loaded with nuclear industry insiders and overseen by the trade minister, whose ministry is in charge of promoting nuclear power. Japan may have been able to come up with better, more sustainable plans if it had opened the process to outsiders, such as Japanese nonnuclear companies and external members. A 2012 study by James M. Acton and Mark Hibbs concluded that the Fukushima accident would have been preventable if the plant’s owner, TEPCO, and Japan’s regulator, the old Nuclear and Industrial Safety Agency (NISA), had followed best practices and standards. The nuclear energy world had become complacent before the accident at the Fukushima Daiichi plant in Japan. In the early years the nuclear world paid a lot of attention to safety. This concern diminished somewhat, but renewed again in the wake of the Chernobyl accident in 1986. The explosions at three reactors and the release of high levels of radioactivity exposed weaknesses in Japan’s nuclear industry, including inadequate preparation for and response to an emergency. Among the key failings was the weak oversight by a nuclear regulatory body that was not fully independent from the promotional side.

Introduction  27  

Japanese living in towns nearly forty miles away from the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant remain jittery about radioactive contaminants spread over the countryside. In Date, a city of sixty-seven thousand, official radiation levels are as much as seventy-five times what they were before the accident. Anxiety is widespread throughout Tohoku, and officials are testing food and plan to decontaminate. Even though no radiation-caused illness has appeared in Fukushima plant workers (Ropeik 2013), and none is expected, radiation phobia prevents a rational response to Fukushima. It took fourteen years to clean up Three Mile Island after one of its reactors partially melted down in 1979. The best guess for Fukushima is forty years, if one has faith in Japan’s government to chart a course forward. The massive and uncertain job of decommissioning and decontaminating the site will continue for a long time. Some experts have suggested following the tactic adopted by the former Soviet Union at Chernobyl of essentially capping the shattered reactors in concrete and declaring the most contaminated towns off limits for a generation. But giving up a large portion of Fukushima may not be an option in a densely populated country where land remains a scarce commodity. Nuclear power has risks, but more recently constructed nuclear plants have cooling systems that would have prevented or limited the damage. The safety record of nuclear power is strong. Nuclear power has killed fewer people in accidents than have coal mines, yet no one is as appalled over coal mines. The awarding of the 2020 Olympic Summer Games to Tokyo will heighten global scrutiny of Japan’s containment and cleanup efforts at the stricken Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant, about 155 miles north of Tokyo. The main challenge will be allaying fears about contamination from the nuclear disaster. Tokyo last hosted the Summer Games in 1964, signaling its dramatic transformation into a world-class city from the ashes of World War II. The 2020 Olympics may signify the rejuvenation of Japan after the haunting disaster. Four years after a nuclear power plant disaster crippled a primary source of electricity, major home builders in Japan are incorporating alternative technologies as a standard feature of new homes. More than 80 percent of the single-family homes built by Sekisui Homes, the nation’s biggest builder, have solar power and fuel cells. Both sales of solar panels and fuel cells have jumped, bolstered by strong consumer demand generally. In addition to guaranteeing favorable rates for solar power under the law passed after the tsunami, Japan has had subsidies in place since before the disaster that can cover a third or more of the cost of a fuel cell. Japan is well ahead of other countries in residential fuel cells—the crucial link that, when combined with solar panels, gives homes their own round-the-clock power generation. Companies such as phone carrier Softbank, trading houses Mitsui and Company and Marubeni Corporation, Toyota Motor Corporation’s Toyota Turbine and Systems, and Oji Paper are investing heavily in wind and solar power, transforming defunct golf courses into solar farms and building offshore wind turbines. Since 3/11 Japan has increased its generation capacity from renewable sources by 15 percent, to about 3.4 million kilowatts. In theory, the Tokyo area could import electricity from the

28  Pradyumna P. Karan

south. But a historical rivalry between Tokyo and the city of Osaka led the two areas to develop grids using different frequencies—Osaka’s is sixty cycles and Tokyo’s is fifty cycles—so sharing is inefficient. Despite signs that the Fukushima crisis is worsening, Japan’s commitment to restarting many of its fifty idled reactors appears stronger than ever, a year after a previous government said it would begin to phase out nuclear power completely. The Liberal Democratic Party government that took office in December 2012 considers nuclear power essential, even with the surge in generation capacity from solar, wind, and other renewable sources, and believes that the world’s third largest economy cannot afford the mounting costs from importing gas and oil. The government appears to be counting on its ability to convince people that they will now be safe because the government has replaced its previous nuclear regulatory agency—which had been heavily criticized for its close links to the power industry—with a more independent one. The issue is cost, and to a lesser extent, concern over a resurgence in climate-changing carbon emissions due to increased use of coal and oil to generate power. Reliance on imported oil and gas surged from about 60 percent of energy consumption to about 85 percent. Japan posted a trade deficit in 2011 for the first time in thirty-one years, and another deficit of $82.4 billion in 2012. About half of the increase stemmed from rising fuel costs. With falling oil prices worldwide, the deficit from oil imports declined in 2014. Beyond the imperatives of trade balances, Japan has other reasons for keeping the nuclear industry afloat. Japan has invested billions of dollars in nuclear plants and technology, and it is counting on selling that technology to a burgeoning global industry. Many of Japan’s business and political leaders appear reluctant to give up nuclear power. Many local communities that rely heavily on nuclear plants for jobs and tax revenues worry over potential risks. Even if Japan’s nuclear power plants are allowed to restart, many will soon reach their forty-year operating limits, raising the issue of whether and how they will be recertified for additional years of service. The power crisis demonstrates that Japan is well placed both to pioneer new ways to conserve power and to extend its influence in renewable energy technology. Judicious support for power conservation and clean electricity could turn this crisis into a turning point for the nation. Ultimately, the need to conserve energy could force Japanese companies—already among the most efficient in the world—to emerge even leaner and more competitive. The Fukushima disaster had varying impacts on various countries. Germany viewed Fukushima as the ultimate lesson of why the country should reject nuclear power altogether (Schreurs and Yoshida 2013). The accident led the government to shut down Germany’s seventeen nuclear reactors, which provided 18 percent of the country’s energy needs. But most Germans were already staunchly against nuclear power before 2011—a legacy not of Fukushima, but of Chernobyl, whose 1986 meltdown rained contamination 850 miles away in Bavaria. China, South Korea, and India remain committed to nuclear power. India and South Korea have vowed to tighten safety standards, but have otherwise forged ahead with plans for nuclear expansion.

Introduction  29  

Yukio Yotsumoto and Takekawa Shunichi have researched social victimization of Fukushima nuclear disaster refugees for chapter 12. Many nuclear refugees evacuated from the worst-hit areas have moved to Tokyo and other cities, but are worried that even the taint of an association with Fukushima could cause their young children to face the same sort of discrimination as the survivors of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings. In chapter 13, Yukiko Dejima and Wakako Ikeda-Ohtsubo weave together reflections of Internet-age parents and children after the disaster. They discuss their postdisaster experiences and needs. The earthquake and tsunami made an enormous impact on the children. Several hundred children lost their lives, and many were rendered orphans. Wakako Ikeda-Ohtsubo describes her experience as a mother of a baby in Sendai, and Yukiko Dejima provides her reactions to the quake and radiation as a parent in Tokyo. The Internet provided the means to be well-informed regarding the evolving crisis and to obtain information to make informed decisions during this period (Cotter 2011). Toshikazu Seto and Yuichiro Nishimura discuss in chapter 14 the role of geospatial crisis mapping during disasters. Geospatial information technologies prove useful for identifying scientific solutions to many issues facing recovery and reconstruction. Geospatial technologies, including GIS, space and airborne photogrammetry, and remote sensing, laser scanning, and mobile mapping systems are highly useful not only in damage assessment, but also in reconstruction planning. They also play a particularly important role in supporting decisions to help the devastated towns and villages to be rebuilt in harmony with local culture and history.

Part 3. Impact of the Earthquake and Tsunami on Business and Industry The earthquake and tsunami disrupted the economy (Kajitani and Tatano 2014), and Japan’s economy shrank at an annual rate of 3.7 percent in the first quarter of 2011. It exposed potentially risky supply chain practices predicated on cost-effectiveness. Immediately after the disaster, much of Japan’s industry seemed to remain in a state of suspension, as the widespread devastation, combined with uncertainty over the nuclear calamity, made it difficult for corporate Japan to think about business as usual. Particularly hard hit was the manufacturing sector, with the automotive and electronics industries feeling the most pain. With Japan producing 40 percent of the global component supplies, electronics was especially worrisome. Since many of the electronic components manufactured in Japan are highly specialized, it was difficult to find new sources. In the auto industry, the effect on car makers ranged from the outright curtailment of manufacturing—both within Japan and at other locations, including in the United States—to diminished option choices. Honda Motors, for instance, began cutting production levels at its U.S. and Canadian auto plants at the end of March because it lacked critical parts supplied by Japanese manufacturers. Less affected was Ford, which reported that the only impact was a slowdown in producing vehicles in certain paint colors stemming from the lack of an essential pigment supply from a plant in the tsunami-affected area of Japan. Ripples from the

30  Pradyumna P. Karan

devastation in Sanriku were felt as far away as England’s West Midlands. Disruption to Japanese electronics makers led to shortages of key electronics components at British car factories, including Jaguar Land Rover’s Castle Bromwich plant in Birmingham. Toshiba, which supplied two of the reactors at Fukushima Daiichi, is struggling with the financial aftereffects of the disaster, which were deepened by the company’s growing bet on nuclear energy in the years before 3/11 (Pfanner 2015). Jun Tsuchiya provides an account in chapter 15 of the impact of the tsunami on distribution systems in Tohoku, and Masateru Hino discusses the impact of the disaster on manufacturing in Tohoku in chapter 16. Convenience stores, such as Lawson, FamilyMart, 7-Eleven, and SeikoMart sell many kinds of goods and commodities, such as dry foods and fast food (lunch boxes, rice balls, and sandwiches) in small shopping spaces. People can also pay their electricity, gas, and telephone bills at most convenience stores in Japan. Recently convenience stores have become the stations for e-commerce. Convenience stores were introduced in Japan in the 1960s and expanded rapidly. The largest chain in Japan is 7-Eleven, followed by Lawson and then FamilyMart. A few high-rank wholesaler/distributor chains supply all stores. The earthquake and tsunami disrupted the distribution system along the Sanriku Coast. Air Liquide, a French company that is the world’s largest producer of industrial gases, closed its head office in Tokyo and moved its operations south to Osaka. The German auto giant BMW, which has eight hundred employees in Tokyo, sent its German workers home and offered local workers safer locations within Japan. Nissan’s engine plant in Iwaki, near the coast in the earthquake-stricken region, remained out of action. Dallas-based Texas Instruments’ plant in Miho, forty miles north of Tokyo, suffered extensive damage (see figure 0.10). It primarily makes chips that convert analog and digital signals, which are used in a wide range of products, including cell phones, digital televisions, computer peripherals, and medical equipment. It resumed shipping at full capacity after six months, in September 2011. The most persistent worry for digital device makers was the supply from Japan of NAND flash—the lightweight storage chips used in smartphones, tablet computers, digital cameras, and a variety of components. Toshiba, the world’s second largest maker of the chips behind Samsung of South Korea, closed some production lines. Toyota’s factories in Japan were closed for weeks after the tsunami due to lack of crucial parts, and even some overseas plants had to curtail their output. The damage to a plant belonging to electronics group Renesas in Hitachinaka led to supply problems. The plant, jointly owned by NEC, Hitachi, and Mitsubishi Electric, produced a significant share of the world’s automotive microcontroller chips. Hitachi Chemical’s two factories at Namie, a short distance from the Fukushima nuclear plant, produced carbon brushes for heavy-duty electric motors. They were damaged. The earthquake caused disruption of the global supply chain and forced buyers and suppliers to rethink their business models. For example, the Merck KGaA plant in Onahama in northeast Japan, which produces 100 percent of the global supply of Xirallic, which makes car paint sparkle, was forced to suspend operations for

Introduction  31  

PACIFIC OCEAN Fukushima reactor no.1 Fukushima reactor no.2

Buildings damaged or destroyed 10,000 5,000 1,000 100

Major port cities Nuclear reactor

TOKYO Yokohoma

Chiba

0

25 0

miles 25

50 50

kilometers

Figure 0.10. Damaged or Destroyed Buildings in the Northern Part of the Keihin Industrial Region. Source: Cabinet of the Prime Minister.

two months. Toyota Motor Corporation, one of Merck’s biggest customers, suffered from a shortage of one-third of the two hundred colors it offers, about 20 percent of its total production volume, because of Xirallic’s scarcity. Many of the world’s automakers, including Toyota, Nissan, Ford, Chrysler, Volkswagen, and General Motors, used metallic paints made with Xirallic in their production lineups. The acute Xirallic shortage illustrates how much the global auto industry came to rely on just a handful of producers for key components and materials, many of which are made in Japan. The post-quake crisis has prompted automakers to seek ways to diversify their supply chains for critical components, which range from rubber O-rings to advanced semiconductors. The sequence of disasters that hit Japan starting on March 11—the record-setting

32  Pradyumna P. Karan

earthquake and associated tsunami, a series of aftershocks, and the ongoing crisis at the Fukushima nuclear power plant—affected the supply chains of many U.S. and other multinational companies. Toyota Motor was one of the hardest hit. Toyota suspended production in April at its North American plants. At the time of the earthquake Toyota was just starting to emerge from a manmade disaster: a series of devastating recalls that undermined its long-standing reputation for quality. There were more than 14 million Toyota vehicles worldwide subject to recalls and other safety adjustments in fiscal year 2010. At the same time, Toyota, like other automakers, was struggling to recover from the global recession. The company is also known for its just-in-time method of managing supply chains—a method that has seen criticism in the wake of the disaster. The disaster has called attention to the weakness of systems so lean that they are vulnerable to supply shocks (Teach 2014). In order to cut production costs, Toyota and other companies have increasingly outsourced their manufacturing operations, and failed to assess the ability of their suppliers, and beyond, to be able to manage operations should things not go well. Seeking cost reduction by cutting down on inventory and the number of suppliers they deal with, manufacturers in the auto, consumer electronics, and high-tech fields found themselves short on reserve stocks and lead time. The Japanese earthquake and its aftermath provided some useful supply chain lessons for companies. One lesson has been how little they actually knew about who their suppliers’ suppliers were, and how prone those partners were to disruptions. Also instructional was how vulnerable the most extreme forms of lean, just-in-time production can be when a natural disaster hits. Although the economic impact of suspended production at big companies like Toyota, Honda, and Sony received the bulk of attention, much of the destruction was also borne by smaller businesses, including fish traders and processors. The tsunami caused extensive damage to seaports along the northeastern coast of Japan, which play an important part in receiving goods from abroad and serving as feeders to the nation’s major seaports farther south (see figure 0.11). Sendai’s port had particular importance for some companies, including the electronics makers Sony, Canon, and Pioneer, and the brewer Kirin. Sendai ranks about thirteenth among Japanese ports in container shipments. Fearing the potential impact on crews, cargoes, and vessels worth tens of millions of dollars, some of the world’s biggest container shipping lines restricted their ships from calling on ports in Tokyo Bay over concerns about radiation from the damaged Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant.

Part 4. Socioeconomic Dimensions of Response, Recovery, and Reconstruction: The Rebuilding Dilemma Five years after 3/11, Japan is still wrestling with the disruption and dislocation unleashed that day. “Seven times down, eight times up” is a popular Japanese expression for resilience after adversity. It is symbolized by the round Daruma good luck doll that bobs up after getting knocked down. Japan has indeed made considerable progress. The rubble, once scattered across a ruined landscape, is now in tidy moun-

Kamaishi Ofunato

Sea of Japan

Minamisanriku Ishinomaki EPICENTER

Sendai Soma

PACIFIC OCEAN

Fukushima reactor no. 1 Fukushima reactor no. 2

Onahama Areas of strongest shaking Severely damaged ports Major port cities

Nakaminato

TOKYO

Chiba

Yokohoma 0

25 0

miles 25 kilometers

Figure 0.11. Impacts of the Tsunami on Ports.

50 50

34  Pradyumna P. Karan

tains. Police stations and schools are in full service, and supermarkets and gas stations are operating normally. Factory managers have restored supply chains much faster than anticipated, while entrepreneurs have found new business opportunities amid the turmoil. Given the limits of steel and concrete to resist the forces of nature, much depends on people’s own preparedness and education to face disaster (Kitagawa 2015). Disaster education has been delivered at schools in postwar Japan. Over the years the disaster education curriculum has evolved from the scientific knowledge of hazards to civic participation and life skills needed to cope with disasters. At present, these dimensions are addressed within the policy framework of school safety. Geographer Kenji Yamazaki of Meiji University discusses in chapter 17 the important role that schools can play in saving tsunami victims by developing a “disaster awareness culture” in the country. Moments like 3/11 serve as “wake-up calls” that could lead to change, with renewed emphasis on the development of a disaster awareness culture among the population. The “software” of disaster awareness, training, practice, and habits of mind, are as important as the “hardware” of disaster defenses and strong infrastructure. There would surely have been far more deaths in 2011 were it not for the memories of past deadly tsunamis among residents of much of the Sanriku Coast and regular evacuation drills carried out in almost all communities in the area. With a population of more than 600,000 living in inundated areas, the toll of 15,854 killed and 3,274 missing could have been much higher. Heeding alarms or warnings enabled most people to make it to safety. The disaster has brought an awakening among a generation of young Japanese who have been surprisingly passive in the face of intensifying economic woes. Although much of the new activism is focused on the nuclear accident, multitudes of volunteers have streamed into the devastated northeast to help. In chapter 18, Iwate University faculty James M. Hall and Moto Suzuki of the All Hands volunteer group analyze the role of volunteering in the post-tsunami recovery. Japan has seen a renaissance in activism and volunteer work. Throughout the country, local leaders and organizations have stepped up to fill the void left by the slow-moving national government. In the tsunami-swept town of Ishinomaki and several other communities, one can notice volunteers from Tokyo and other cities helping dispatch vans to transport elderly residents to hospitals and stores. For many Japanese, volunteering represents the very first contact with civil society. Japanese youths rose to meet the challenges facing victims after the disaster. Large numbers of young Japanese volunteered to help earthquake and tsunami victims. With their social networking expertise they were able to reunite family members and coordinate aid efforts (Beech 2011). The number of foreigners living in Japan has risen rapidly in recent years. Foreigners account for a tiny fraction of Japan’s vast labor market, but they have been vital at senior levels in fields such as financial services, information technology, legal services, and other professions. Nagoya University geographer Kohei Okamoto and Kumi Sato discuss in chapter 19 the problems faced by the non-Japanese

Introduction  35  

in the disaster area. The majority of foreigners resident in Japan always used to be Chinese and Koreans, but since the 1980s large numbers of Vietnamese, Filipinos, Brazilians, and people of other nationalities have been making their homes in the country. The increase in the number of foreign residents has started to make an impact. There are now approximately 1.8 million registered foreign residents in Japan, making up roughly 1.45 percent of the total population. After the nuclear crisis, foreign governments began to fly their citizens back home. American colleges, including Temple University and the University of Kansas, also took steps to return students studying in Japan to the United States. Multinational companies such as Pimco, the world’s largest bond fund, moved to other locations, including Sydney. The French bank Société General relocated more than two hundred staff from Tokyo. Bosch, which employs eight thousand people at thirty-six sites in Japan, relocated two hundred employees and relatives. Blackstone, an American private equity firm, relocated its Tokyo staff outside the city. However, many long-term Tokyo expatriates decided to stay. Several women interviewed on the bullet train to Osaka said that their decision to leave was motivated by precaution rather than panic. Their husbands were staying behind. As worries grew about the damaged nuclear reactors, multinational companies stepped up their efforts to move staff out of Japan’s northeast. The fall in expat numbers were uneven across nationalities, with continental Europeans being the most likely to leave—a reflection perhaps of differing attitudes toward radiation risks. Yilin Hou of Syracuse University and Unryu Suganuma of J. F. Oberlin University discuss the important issue of fiscal preparedness for natural disasters in chapter 20. The 2011 tsunami could cost the nation a staggering $300 billion dollars—to date the most costly disaster in Japan’s history. But 3/11 was not an isolated event. Indeed, the incidence of extreme events is becoming far more frequent. The increase is likely the result of more people and more valuable facilities locating in high-risk areas. What’s next? And who will pay? In 2011, Japan’s government proposed about 11,200 billion yen ($146 billion) in tax increases over ten years to fund post-tsunami reconstruction, but the plan faces opposition. Schools, hospitals, roads, bridges, utilities, and transportation services are usually rebuilt with central government funds and contributions from local governments. For families and businesses, insurance plays an important role in assisting in their financial recovery. However, many people, including those in high-risk areas, do not have coverage. They were either put off by its cost or by the belief that the next disaster “will not happen to me.” Uninsured disaster victims have to rely on family, friends, or donations. Standard & Poor’s estimate for the cost of reconstruction was $243 billion in 2011. A coherent plan is required to design a national disaster financing strategy. It could quantify risk in dollar terms and make it very clear who was responsible for what—whether private or public risk was involved. For one of the world’s richest nations, the progress has been disappointing. Japan earmarked $266 billion for reconstruction over four years. Yet nearly $12 billion was returned unspent to national coffers because of construction delays. Up and down

36  Pradyumna P. Karan

the tsunami-wrecked coast, residents and municipal officials blame the central government for failing to make critical decisions that would accelerate rebuilding. There has been no real rebuilding in the low-lying areas that were once the heart of most of the coastal communities. In addition to difficulties with the funding for rebuilding, diverging views about what to rebuild are impeding progress. The central government asserts that it is working as fast as it can, consulting with local governments on projects such as replacement seawalls and new ports. Coastal communities depend on central government funding to tear down ruined public buildings—ranging from museums to libraries to athletic facilities—and to help build replacements. By September 2011, the central government had approved 6 trillion yen ($78 billion) in spending to restore damaged regions. Most of this money was spent on emergency relief efforts. Experts believe it may take at least 40 trillion yen to rebuild the area. Many communities directly affected by the disasters are still chasing finances. Iwate Prefecture received applications worth 25.5 billion yen (about $320 million) from locals seeking to rebuild their small businesses. But with a budget of only 15 billion yen (about $188 million) for subsidies, the prefecture was forced to reject many of the applications. Norinchukin Bank, the central financial organization for the agricultural, forestry, and fisheries cooperatives in Japan, gave directions to branch managers in disaster-stricken provinces to act quickly and decisively for recovery and reconstruction efforts. Japan faces many hard decisions about what to rebuild. More than $100 billion worth of damage was done to bridges, ports, railways, schools, hospitals, and other infrastructure. The nation, already burdened with debt, cannot easily afford to pay for the big-ticket projects that would restore communities to the way they were. Japanese policy makers also argue that to rebuild shrinking, aging communities without radically reshaping them may not be the best choice. Some have floated the idea of turning the tsunami-devastated zone into a haven for renewable energy or entrepreneurship.

Part 5. Comparative Responses to the Disaster: Japan, China, India, and New Zealand In chapter 21, Lisa Yinghong Li of J. F. Oberlin University provides compelling experiences of facing a 1976 earthquake in China and the 2011 disaster in Sanriku, Japan. No nation escapes unscathed from earthquakes of the magnitudes that struck China in 1976 and Japan in 2011. Li examines how political myths hidden behind the surface of each disaster narrative complicated the disaster management efforts and affected the way each disaster was handled, reported, analyzed, and remembered. In 2007, the Japanese completed the world’s most sophisticated early warning system for earthquakes, which was credited with signaling Tokyo’s residents—via television, radio, and cell phone—that a quake was coming. The warning system gives industrial, energy, and transportation facilities time to shut down before a quake hits. Contrast this preparation with the efforts to predict earthquakes in China. China has wealth, but also a government answerable only to itself.

Introduction  37  

Five years after the unprecedented triple disaster—quake, tsunami, and crippled nuclear reactors—that struck Tohoku, the haunting landscape of twisted fishing trawlers and cars dangling from the upper floors of tottering buildings have been cleared. Across the disaster zone, early warning and evacuation systems undoubtedly saved lives. Higher floors of some stoutly built concrete buildings were relatively safe refuges, while traditional wooden homes were swept away. A nine-part series documenting the recovery from the tsunami by Stefan Schauwecker is available at www.japan-guide.com/blog/recovery15111.html. It documents reconstruction in the Tohoku region with excellent photos and text produced between one month after the tsunami and four and half years in December 2015. Seawalls were not a complete failure. Though designed for smaller waves on the scale of Tohoku’s previous tsunami disasters, they still managed to reflect some of the sea’s power, reducing damage and giving residents a little more time to evacuate. In one community, Fudaimura, about 320 miles north of Tokyo, the town built a fiftyone-foot seawall to shield homes behind the fishing port. It was built in the 1970s at a cost of more than $30 million. The fifty-one-foot floodgate was built between mountainsides. The 3/11 waves rose as high as sixty-six feet, as water marks show on the floodgate towers. Some ocean water did flow over, but it caused minimal damage. The tall gate broke the tsunami’s main thrust, and the mountainsides flanking the gate also offered a natural barrier. Towns to the north and south of Fudaimura also braced against tsunamis with concrete seawalls, breakwaters, and other protective structures, but none was as tall as Fudaimura’s. Japan now should rebuild its seawalls, while recognizing the limits of such physical defenses by also moving residential areas farther up hills or away from the sea (“Great Wall of Japan” 2014). And while the limits of science and technology have been made clear, they remain the best tools to limit the suffering that nature’s wrath can impose. Japan has sophisticated technology to detect forthcoming earthquakes and issue warnings. The detection system transmits warnings of pending quakes a few seconds in advance to television broadcasters and to many cell phones. Yuretekuru, meaning “shaking is coming,” is a free app for the iPhone that delivers earthquake warnings. It now has 1.5 million users, compared with only one hundred thousand before the 3/11 quake. In chapter 22, Christine Mary Wilby compares the response to mud liquefaction resulting from 3/11 in Japan at Urayasu, and mud liquefaction after the quake in Christchurch, New Zealand, on February 22, 2011, which killed 185 people and caused over $34 billion in damage. About fifty thousand people and six thousand businesses were forced to relocate in Christchurch. They have been living and working in temporary quarters—taking over office space in warehouses and using fittedout shipping containers and converted homes as offices. The planning process has dragged on and the rebuilding has been delayed in New Zealand’s second largest city. Will people and businesses return when the rebuilding is finally completed? To be sure, many people are expected to return. Government departments and large international firms are looking for space. They are committed to supporting the city,

38  Pradyumna P. Karan

founded 150 years ago by English settlers and named after an Oxford University college. But the longer some businesses and people have kept away, the deeper their roots have grown in the areas where they have relocated. Inner city commercial property in Christchurch that is being rebuilt is expected to be more expensive than the temporary quarters companies have taken. And many workers remain traumatized by the horror of the earthquake. After the quake, over ten thousand homes were declared uninhabitable, and parts of the downtown area remained barricaded for demolition. The rebuilding has been delayed by continued aftershocks, red tape, and battles over insurance payouts. The government’s rebuilding plan for a modern, low-rise city includes generous amounts of green space, a convention center, a library, and a new sports complex. Government agencies initially expected the rebuilding to be well under way by early 2012. The New Zealand Treasury expects residential, commercial, and infrastructure work to peak in 2016—and it may take well over five years to complete. Also, financing has not been lined up for all the projects. Much of the reconstruction will come from insurance payments, and the New Zealand government’s bill is $13 billion. But the government has been moving slowly in finding foreign investors for projects such as a redevelopment of the hospital and the $425 million convention center. In 2014, three years after two large earthquakes devastated central Christchurch, the city was experiencing a rebirth with creativity and wit (Bergman 2014). Though much of the central city has yet to be rebuilt, entrepreneurs and volunteers are finding surprising ways to make temporary use of empty lots and bring life back to the downtown (Schwab 2008). The Gap Filler program, begun after the first quake in September 2010 and expanded after a more destructive second quake in February 2011, has created an open-air performance space made of blue pallets, a dance floor with coin-operated music, and even a nine-hole mini-golf course in vacant lots across the city. The Greening the Rubble campaign has since the 2010 quake been planting temporary gardens on the sites of demolished buildings. To replace the destroyed nineteenth-century Christchurch Cathedral, a magnificent transitional church by the Japanese architect Shigeru Ban opened in August 2013 with sturdy cardboard tubes for the roof. Businesses are also trickling back downtown. Urayasu, a city of 165,000 about a twenty-minute train ride from Tokyo Station, is akin to Westchester County in New York: close enough to the city to commute daily, but far enough away that people can afford more spacious homes. Urayasu sank into the ground and became submerged in mud, partly because 75 percent of the town sits on reclaimed land. After the earthquake, most residents of Urayasu were deprived of water and natural gas for weeks. Warped roads, tilted houses, and popped-up manholes were strewn across the city. The tsunami did not affect Urayasu; instead, the devastation was caused by soil liquefaction. It occurs when soil loses its strength because of applied stress from a temblor. The stress is enhanced in soft clay soils and landfill areas. Repeated aftershocks accelerated the spread of liquefaction in Urayasu. Sewage systems that address liquefaction were introduced in Japan in 1981. Older reclaimed lands, such as Urayasu, which was developed in 1964, were

Introduction  39  

not covered by the 1981 regulation. The city’s property prices have declined as a result of soil liquefaction. In chapter 23, Pradyumna Karan compares the responses to the Indian Ocean tsunami of 2004 in India and the Sanriku tsunami of 2011. Japan prepared well for a mega-disaster, but 3/11 illustrated the limits of safeguards and human foresight. Japan is a rich, high-tech nation with much rough experience of seismic rumblings, with billions spent over the years on developing and deploying technologies to limit damage from quakes and tsunamis. These steps almost certainly kept the death count lower than it might otherwise have been, as is clear when that disaster’s toll is compared to the multitudes lost in the 2004 tsunami in India. Japan has a financial advantage over developing nations stricken by natural disasters, but its recovery has been bogged down by many of the same problems that delayed India: an inflexible bureaucracy set up to prevent wasteful spending and a lack of leadership at the local level. The problem stems from government rules attached to the funding. In both Japan and India, red tape entangled major projects, such as public housing for the tsunami victims. In Rikuzentakata, when builders sought to cut down trees on a property to begin construction, the city was asked by the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries to wait six months so as to comply with forestry procedures. The Japan Reconstruction Agency approved using public funds for a new fire station in Rikuzentakata only if it was a replica rebuilt in the same location. Another pool of construction funding allows only for specific facilities. For example, Rikuzentakata cannot get aid to build a gymnasium or library because those structures are not on the checklist of acceptable projects. When the city wanted to build a supermarket, officials discovered they needed to apply for permission in a lengthy procedure because the land was designated for farm use. The bureaucratic thicket delayed groundbreaking on the project by more than a year. Governments in both India and Japan adhere strictly to rules and established procedures, but in emergency situations flexibility would be desirable. International relief groups’ responses to the earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear crisis in Japan were much different and relatively more subdued compared to the mobilization that occurred in the aftermath of the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami. This may be due to quake-prone Japan’s exceptional disaster response capacity, and fear among relief groups over going into a radiation zone. As Japan struggled with the rescue effort, it also faced the worst nuclear emergency since Chernobyl. The earthquake and the tsunami led to partial meltdowns, explosions, and leaks of radioactive gas in three reactors at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station. Spent fuel rods at the reactors overheated and caught fire, releasing radioactive material directly into the atmosphere. Traces of radiation were found in Tokyo’s water and in water pouring from the reactors into the ocean. Miyagi Prefecture’s policy is to build much of the temporary housing inland, to save coastal land for permanent homes. On the scarce high ground available in coastal areas, such structures would be in the way when projects to build permanent housing begin. The inhabitants there want their homes in the coastal areas, where they used to reside. So construction of only about half of the needed temporary facilities has

40  Pradyumna P. Karan

begun in areas around the major fishing port of Kesennuma, which is noted for the intricate contours of its coastline. Iwate is trying to satisfy quake-tsunami survivors by preserving their prequake communities. The prefecture built temporary homes on previously uninhabited, sloping land near the waterfront so residents can live near where their houses used to stand. But given the scarcity of flat space in Iwate’s coastal areas, a major project to build new houses will have to be carried out on hilly areas that surround the coast. During interviews with residents of the Akahama district of the Iwate town of Otsuchi, for example, the residents insisted on continuing to live on the high ground, where some 130 temporary houses are being built. In Akahama, more than half of the three hundred local families lost their homes to the tsunami and fires. These people want to build permanent residences on the temporary site on the higher ground and live in the closely knit community. But building permanent houses on spots already taken up by temporary dwellings would be difficult for home builders, and costly as well. The situation seems even more complex in Fukushima Prefecture, where TEPCO’s crippled nuclear power station remains a constant threat. The prefecture estimates that twenty-four thousand new homes must be built for evacuees, but it is hard to estimate the number because many residents have fled across the country. The Japanese tsunami showed the limits of what even the best preparation can do. Japan has responded to crises. Historically, it has repeatedly rebounded from adversity. The stoicism of the Japanese people in the face of disasters has been commendable. The low incidence of looting and the virtual lack of disorder has been the subject of favorable comments. Stoicism is an admirable response to what fate deals you. It also serves as a coping mechanism in the face of incomprehension. And the Japanese no longer just find it hard to understand how nature could deal such a blow; increasingly, they want to know why the government of a rich and orderly land should be taking so long to tame an overheating nuclear plant and get help to communities ravaged by the tsunami. In the face of tragedy, Japan has rediscovered a resiliency and inner strength reminiscent of the postwar era (Pilling 2014). Social media have transformed the suffering of many into a new network of community activism and volunteerism. It is in adversity that a country shows its mettle. The Japanese will surely do just that on this occasion. It is for the leaders to match the mettle of the people. If they are able to do so, out of great disaster may yet come a rebirth of Tohoku.

References Acton, James M., and Mark Hibbs. 2012. Why Fukushima Was Preventable. Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. Architecture Institute of Japan. 2010. Fukko Machizukuri [Recovery Machizukuiri]. Tokyo: Architecture Institute of Japan. Beech, Hanna. 2011. “Rising to the Challenge.” Time, April 4, 45–49. Bergman, Justin. 2014. “Christchurch, New Zealand, After Earthquakes, a Creative Rebirth.” New York Times, April 6.

Introduction  41   Cotter, Kerry J. 2011. “Selected Resources on the Fukushima Disaster.” Journal of Consumer Health on the Internet 15 (4): 338–346. Cybriwsky, Roman. 2011. Roppangi Crossing. Athens: Univ. of Georgia Press. Edgington, David. 2010. Reconstructing Kobe: The Geography of Crisis and Opportunity. Vancouver: UBC Press. Fackler, Martin. 2013. “Japan’s Nuclear Disaster Refugees.” New York Times, October 2. ———. 2015. “A Struggle to Recover as Vast as the Ocean: Japan Rebuilding from 2011 Tsunami.” New York Times, March 15. Gill, Tom, Brigitte Steger, and David H. Slater, eds. 2013. Japan Copes with Calamity: Ethnographies of the Earthquake, Tsunami and Nuclear Disasters of March 2011. Bern: Peter Lang. Godzik, Maren. 2013. “Rebuilding Houses in Japan’s Tsunami-Hit Towns and Cities.” International Journal of Housing Policy 13 (4): 433–445. “Great Wall of Japan.” 2014. Economist 411 (8891): 37 Hein, Patrick. 2014. “Expecting the Unexpected: A Case Study on Tsunami Mitigation.” Environmental Hazards 13 (1): 1–20. Itakura, Katsutaka. 1982. “On the Structure of Economy and Society in Tohoku.” The Science Reports of Tohoku University (Geography) 32 (2): 71–87. Itoh, S., et al. 2014. “Radioactive Particles in Soil, Plant, and Dust Samples After the Fukushima Nuclear Accident.” Soil Science and Plant Nutrition 60:540–550. Itonaga, Koji. 2014. “Resilience Design and Community Support in Iitate Village in the Aftermath of the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Disaster.” Planning Theory and Practice 15 (2): 255–259. Iwata, Mari. 2015. “Fukushima Watch: Cesium-Absorbing Canola Project Triples in Size.” Wall Street Journal, May 12. Japan Times. 2011. “Three Months Marked Since Killer Quake, Tsunami; Anniversary of Twin Disasters Observed with Prayers, Protests.” June 12. ———. 2012. “Shore Shapes Made Tsunami Deadlier.” February 20. Kajitani, Y., and H. Tatano. 2014. “Estimation of Production Capacity Loss Rate After the Great East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami in 2011.” Economic Systems Research 26 (1): 13–38. Karan, Pradyumna P. 2005. Japan in the 21st Century. Lexington: Univ. Press of Kentucky, 28. Kingston, Jeff. 2011. “Tsunami: Reflections and Aftershocks.” Central Asian Studies 43 (3): 463–475. Kitagawa, K. 2015. “Continuity and Change in Disaster Education in Japan.” Journal of the History of Education Society 44 (3): 371–390. Kushida, Kenji. 2014. “The Fukushima Nuclear Disaster and the Democratic Party of Japan: Leadership, Structures and Information Challenges During the Crisis.” Japanese Political Economy 40 (1): 29–68. Matanle, Peter. 2011. “The Great East Japan Earthquake, Tsunami and Nuclear Meltdown: Towards the (Re)Construction of a Safe, Sustainable, and Compassionate Society in Japan’s Shrinking Regions.” Local Environment 16 (9): 823–847. Mather, Cotton., P. P. Karan, and Shigeru Iijima. 1998. The Japanese Landscape. Lexington: Univ. Press of Kentucky. Mockett, Marie Mutsuki. 2014. Where the Dead Pause, and Japanese Say Goodbye: A Journey. New York: Norton. Murai, Shusuke. 2015. “Some Tohoku Disaster Areas on Fast Track to Rebuilding While Others Stuck in Slow Lane.” Japan Times, March 9. Negishi, Mayumi, and Eric Pfanner. 2016. “Japan Grapples with Fukushima Cleanup.” Wall Street Journal, March 10.

42  Pradyumna P. Karan Obe, Mitsuru. 2011. “Japan Finds Radiation Spread Over a Wide Area.” Wall Street Journal, August 31. Ogawa, A. 2013. “Young Precariat at the Forefront: Anti-Nuclear Rallies in Post-Fukushima Japan.” Inter-Asia Cultural Studies 14 (2): 317–326. Parkes, Colin M. 2014. “Responses to Disaster: Reflections on a Visit to Japan.” Bereavement Care 33 (2): 49–55. Pfanner, Eric. 2015. “Toshiba Still Struggles with Fukushima.” Wall Street Journal, June 22. Pilling, David. 2014. Bending Adversity: Japan and the Art of Survival. New York: Penguin. Rao, G., and A. Lin. 2011. “Distribution of Inundation by the Great Tsunami of 2011 9.0 Earthquake Off the Pacific Coast of Tohoku (Japan) as Revealed by Alos Imagery Data.” International Journal of Remote Sensing 32 (22): 7073–7086. Ropeik, David. 2013. “Taming Radiation Fears.” New York Times, October 22. Satoh, S. 2013. Fukko Machizukari 3 nenme no kadai [Challenges for the 3rd Year of Recovery Machizukuri]. Kikan Machizukuri 39:4–7. Kyoto: Gakugei Shuppan. Schreurs, Miranda, and Fumikazu Yoshida. 2013. Fukushima: A Political Economic Analysis of a Nuclear Disaster. Sapporo: Hokkaido Univ. Press. Schwab, James C. 2008. “A Landscape of Hazards: New Zealand Faces Plenty of Challenges, But Its Streamlined Government and Planning Processes Could Prove to Be a Real Benefit.” Planning 74 (11): 40–45. Scidmore, Eliza. 1896. “The Recent Earthquake Wave on the Coast of Japan.” National Geographic Magazine 7 (9): 252. Siswanto, E., and M. Hashim. 2012. “A Data Fusion Study on the Impacts of the 2011 Japan Tsunami on the Marine Environment of Sendai Bay.” International Journal of Image and Data Fusion 3 (2): 191–198. Soble, Jonathan. 2016. “Fukushima Keeps Fighting a Radioactive Tide.” New York Times, March 11. Tanaka, Norio, Junji Yagasawa, and Satoshi Yasuda. 2012. “Characteristics of Damage Due to Tsunami Propagation in River Channels and Overflow of Their Embankments in Great East Japan Earthquake.” International Journal of River Basin Management 10 (3): 269–279. Teach, Edward. 2014. “When the Chain Breaks.” CFO, May 23, 49–51, Yamaguchi, Mari. 2013. “Tepco Hit for Failing to Foresee Menace of Radioactive Groundwater, Tank Leaks.” Japan Times, August 23.

Part 1

Earthquake and Tsunami Damage

1

Historical Geography of the Japanese Tsunami Unryu Suganuma Japan, one of the most advanced nations in the world and especially known for its high technology, has one of the best tsunami warning systems on earth (Oki and Koketsu 2011). The nation is famous worldwide for its ability to prepare against, train for, and mitigate damage from natural disasters. Nevertheless, Japan was not able to save lives during the ongoing triple disaster of earthquakes, tsunami, and nuclear radiation caused by the Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake (named the Great East Japan Earthquake by the Japanese government) that took place on March 11, 2011. Some media and so-called experts in the Japanese media suggest that the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake was soteigai [unexpected], but this paper hints otherwise. Already two scientists (Tsuji 2011; Shimazaki 2011) have acknowledged their mistakes in predicting the tsunami earthquake in the Sanriku Coastal Region. Certainly, the experts cannot foresee everything in nature; however, the miscalculation by experts created additional human disaster on top of the natural disaster that occurred within the 2011 Sanriku tsunami. As a result of these miscalculations, the higher tsunami wall at Fukushima Daiichi that was originally planned was not built, and those living in the coastal area became careless about the tsunami warning systems. Almost no one expected this huge tsunami. If residents in the Sanriku region had known that an almost forty-meter-high tsunami was about to hit their area, they might have had a different mind-set and have been able to survive the catastrophic tsunami. Given these facts, the local residents have begun to learn lessons from the recent tsunami. In fact, five months after the 2011 disaster, the government of Miyagi Prefecture decided to launch 342 major recovery projects, including moving houses, schools, and hospitals to higher ground and constructing double-defense tsunami walls over the next ten years (Jiji News, August 17, 2011). The purpose of this research is to provide a broad overview of Japanese tsunamis from a historical geography perspective by focusing on the thirty-five major tsunamis in Japan’s history. How have these tsunamis changed the environment of these regions? How have these tsunamis shaped the landscapes? How did the residents cope with the natural disasters in tsunami-prone areas, such as the Sanriku region, again and again? To what extent did these tsunamis change lifestyles in these regions? (In other words, were any lessons learned?) There are seven active tsunami regions in Japan’s geography, and each has its own characteristics. Some tsunamis, such as the 45  

46  Unryu Suganuma

2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami, have become famous in the world; most of the other thirty-four major tsunamis, such as the 869 Jogan tsunami, remain unknown in the West. The Sanriku Coastal Region probably is one of the most active areas for the high magnitude earthquakes that generate gigantic tsunamis. The Sanriku Coast tsunami occurred in 2011. The previous major tsunami there had occurred 1,142 years earlier, in July 869 a.d. The people in the twenty-first century did not learn from the 869 Jogan tsunami at all. The Eastern Coastal Region of Hokkaido, by contrast, is one of the least active areas. Furthermore, the year 1854 is well known in the world; not only has geopolitics shaped Japan’s political landscape, but also the tsunami that year transformed the whole Tokai-Nan Kaido Region completely. The area had an unusual twin set of tsunamis strike on two consecutive days, the Ansei Tokai and Ansei Nankai tsunamis. The Kyushu Region often has small-magnitude earthquakes that create huge tsunamis. There you find the famous unsolved story of two islets, the cape of Hisamitsujima and Uryujima, that sank into the sea after the Beppu Bay tsunami in 1596. The Okinawa Region had a gigantic tsunami before Japan annexed the Ryukyu Kingdom in 1879. The Sea of Japan Region has fewer tsunamis than other regions, and many tsunamis in this area are unknown to those outside of Japan. Certainly, the Sanriku Coast tsunami in 2011 provides valuable lessons for people to learn for generations to come. By learning the historical geography of the Japanese tsunamis, the past “bitterness” will be the “best medicine” for future lives. In addition, learning how to coexist with nature (rather than against it) might be the way to deal with the natural disasters in Japan.

Japan as a Tsunami Nation Japan is a nation facing a variety of natural disasters, such as earthquakes, volcanoes, typhoons, floods, and tsunamis. For centuries, facing natural disasters, especially tsunamis, has been a part of daily Japanese life. Japan is a tsunami nation, and the tsunamis propagated toward the islands situated in the middle ocean produce abnormal wave heights (Hatori 1963). The word tsunami originated from the Japanese language, but tsunami did not appear in historical textbooks until 1611, when the Keicho Sanriku earthquake hit during the Edo Bakufu (the Tokugaku shogun) era (Tsuji 2001). It took nearly three hundred years for the word tsunami to enter international vocabulary. In the English language, people had historically described tsunamis as “tidal waves.” According to well-known Japanese tsunami expert N. Shuto, the first Western scholar to utilize the word tsunami was G. Platania, whose article was published in Bollettino della Societa Sismologica Italiana 13 (1908–1909). Platania learned from the Japanese pioneer of earthquake research, F. Omori (Shuto 2007). Platania’s was the first Western academic article published that used the word tsunami. After both the 1896 Meiji Sanriku tsunami and the 1933 Showa Sanriku tsunami in the Sanriku Coastal Region, the word tsunami began to spread as an international keyword. The term was firmly established in global academic circles after the Chile earthquake in 1960 (Shuto 2007). By the 1964 Alaska earthquake, the word tsunami became universally accepted—not only for academics, but also for others in their daily life.

Historical Geography of the Japanese Tsunami   47  

Today, there are five possible explanations for “the cause of tsunamis.” First, volcano eruptions, such as the 1883 Karate volcano in Indonesia that killed more than thirty-six thousand people, can be the most damaging cause of a massive tsunami (Imamura 2007b). In Japan, when the Oshima-Oshima volcano erupted in 1741, a tsunami recorded at more than thirty-three meters hit southwest of Hokkaido. Second, gigantic earthquakes also trigger tsunamis. Most tsunamis are caused by earthquakes. The 1755 Lisbon earthquake in Portugal caused a six- to fifteen-meterhigh tsunami and killed more than sixty-two thousand people on the European continent (Imamura 2007c). Similarly, the Sanriku Coast tsunami on March 11, 2011, which resulted in a nearly forty-meter tsunami, killed more than 15,893. Another 2,567 are still missing, 6,152 were injured, and about 400 of the bodies have yet to be identified (as of November 2015, at the writing of this paper). Initial estimates of the tsunami’s cost were more than 25 trillion yen (Japan Times, March 24, 2011; Japan Times, February 12, 2012), and the World Bank’s early estimate was as high as $235 billion (Washington Post, March 22, 2011). It will be the most expensive natural disaster in modern history, costing far more than the earthquakes in Haiti in 2010 and Kobe in 1995, Hurricane Katrina in 2005, or the 2004 tsunami in South Asia. Third, meteorite impacts can also create huge tsunamis. Around 65 million years ago, the meteorite impact at the Yucatán Peninsula in Mexico created a tsunami of approximately one hundred meters (Imamura 2007a). Fourth, rockslides and iceberg/ glacier calving can cause tsunamis. Fifth, nuclear weapon attacks can cause tsunamis. It is difficult to measure the size of a tsunami; Japanese scholars have contributed some models to calculate the sizes. As early as 1949, F. Imamura started to search for a way to calculate tsunami sizes. H. Kanamori (1972) provided the mechanism of measuring tsunamis by comparing and contrasting two tsunami earthquakes: the Sanriku in 1896 and the Aleutian Islands in 1946. In 1980, Abe and Kanamori studied the shallow earthquakes to measure wave scale based on data from 1951 to 1977 (Abe and Kanamori 1980). The first well-known model to measure tsunamis was the Imamura-Iida model, created by F. Imamura and K. Iida, which is characterized by 0–4 tsunami levels, with “m” indicating the magnitude of the tsunami. The Imamura-Iida model concludes that the tsunami energy will increase by four times as “m” goes up one level (see table 1.1). The second model of the measure of a tsunami’s power is called the Hatori model, which was proposed by T. Hatori from Tokyo Imperial University. He has suggested a comparable scale with six levels (from [−1] to [4]) to measure tsunami sizes, utilizing “m” to designate the magnitude of the tsunami. For instance, the Keicho Sanriku tsunami in 1611 and the Hoei tsunami in 1707 were m = [4] class tsunamis, while the Ansei Tokai tsunami and the Ansei Nankai tsunami in 1854, as well as the Showa Sanriku tsunami in 1933, were m = [3] class tsunamis. One of the most famous earthquakes in the world, the Taisho Kanto earthquake in 1923, caused a tsunami that was merely an m = [2]. The Niigata tsunami in 1964 was an m = [2] as well. The Tokachi Coast tsunami in 1968 was an m = [1] class tsunami, while the Tokachi Coast tsunami in 1961 was an m = [0] (Hatori 1977a; Hatori 2000).

48  Unryu Suganuma Table 1.1 The Imamura-Iida Tsunami Model M

Tsunami Height (meter)

Degree of Damage

Energy (erg)

−1

About 50 cm

None

6 × 1021

0

About 1 m

A little damage

25

1

About 2 m

The coastal area and some ships might be damaged

100

2

About 4–6 m

Some damage occurs on the inland, and people’s lives lost

400

3

About 10–20 m

Over 400 km coastal areas will be damaged

1,600

4

Over 30 m

Over 500 km coastal areas will significantly be 6,400 damaged Note: The calculation of m which is referred to as tsunami magnitude, is based on m = log2Hmax (Hmax indicates the maximum height of the tsunami) Source: Shuto et al., eds. (2007), 42.

In 2000, Hatori reexamined his tsunami model grounded on tsunami data in the Sanriku Coastal Region between 1611 and 1861 (Hatori 2000). Based on thirty-one tsunamis occurring in Japan during the period from 1896 to 1983, Hatori concluded Table 1.2. The Hatori Tsunami Model [m]

The Degree of Damage and Wave Size

−1

Minor tsunami observed by the tide gauges. The wave heights are 2.5 × 1018 less than 50 cm. No damage.

0

The maximum tsunami height is about 1 m. Ships and marine products suffer light damage. The tsunami height is 50–80 cm within the 100-km area.

1

The maximum height reaches 2–3 m. Houses on low-lying ground 6.4 × 1019 are inundated and ships are carried away. The 1-m wave will spread within about a 200-km area.

2

The maximum wave height is 4–6 m. Many houses are destroyed and some people are killed. The tsunami height is about 1.5 m within the area of 300 km.

3.2 × 1020

3

The maximum tsunami height reaches 10 m and some regions might have 15–20 m. The tsunami height is about 2.5 m within the 400-km area, and significant damage will occur.

1.6 × 1021

4

Energy (erg)

1.3 × 1019

The maximum height is about 20 m, and some areas can reach 30 8 × 1021 m. The tsunami height is about 4 m within the area of 500 km, and the region will suffer great damage. Note: The calculation of m, which is referred to as tsunami magnitude, is based on m = 2.7log H + 2.7 log Δ – 4.3 (H indicates the maximum of tsunami height as a meter; Δ refers to the range [20–2,000 km] between the epicenter to the monitor point). Source: T. Hatori (1986b). Also see T. Hatori (2000), 44–45.

Historical Geography of the Japanese Tsunami   49  

that the energy carried by tsunamis increases five-fold at each level (Hatori 1986; Hatori 1978b). (See table 1.2.) The Hatori tsunami model has been widely used by many scientists and Japanese governmental agencies (Usami 2003). The third model to measure tsunami waves is by the Japan Meteorological Agency (JMA). Their model is the basis of the tsunami warning/advisory system, and lacks the details of the tsunami sizes and the degree of expected damages (see table 1.3). Based on the JMA tsunami warning system, Watanabe (2003) suggests that negative tsunamis have occurred in the Miyagi Coast, Tokachi, and Izu Peninsula Coast by analyzing the 108 years of data from 1894 to 2002. Like with hurricane categories in the United States, one Japanese scholar has tried to put tsunamis in categories that measure their forces (Shuto 2007). Unfortunately, the category system has not been used in the world or even Japan. Tsunami, according to Kojien [The Great Japanese Dictionary], is defined as a wave that arises from the bottom of the ocean due to an upheaval and collapse or a volcano’s eruption (Shinmura 1998). The deeper in the ocean the tsunami occurs, the faster the tsunami will travel to coastal areas. The fastest tsunami can match the speed of an eight-hundred-kilometer-per-hour airplane (JMA 2011). During the greatest Japanese disasters, such as undersea earthquakes or volcanos that erupt in the ocean, there is often less damage to people’s properties; however, the tsunami that is caused by the earthquake or volcano usually kills more people and creates gigantic destruction. As scientists have warned, a three-meter tsunami can easily reach the height of traffic signs and destroy houses and factories, spreading a few hundred kilometers. In fact, human beings are not able to stand up at all if the tsunami reaches fifty centimeters high, about as high as most people’s knees (Oki and Koketsu 2011). If the tsunami reaches above three meters, about 10 percent to 20 percent of affected homes will be destroyed, but the damage rate will go up once the tsunami gets to four meters, washing out 50 percent of the houses (Hatori 1984b). Consequently, the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami has proved how a nearly forty-meter tsunami is able to destroy towns, cities, and prefectures. It is unusual to have M 8.0 seismic center earthquakes on land, but there could be greater than M 8.0 seismic center earthquakes in the center of the ocean (Tsuji 2011). Japan, according to experts, had 138 tsunamis from the year 416 to the year 2001 Table 1.3. The JMA Tsunami Warning Model Type Tsunami Warning

Explanation

Tsunami Height

Great Tsunami

The tsunami height can reach over 3 meters; people need to pay strict attention.

Over 3 m, 4 m, 6 m, 8 m, 10 m

Tsunami

The tsunami height can reach over 2 meters; people need to pay attention.

1 m, 2 m

Tsunami Advisor The tsunami height is about 0.5 meters. Source: Japan Meteorological Agency (2011).

0.5 m

50  Unryu Suganuma Table 1.4. Historical Geography of Japanese Tsunamis m

[−1]

[0]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

Unknown

Total

Year 500–599

0

600–699

1

700–799

1

800–899

1

1

1

1

1 1 1

3

900–999

0

1000–1099

2

1100–1199

0

1200–1299

1

1

1300–1399 1400–1499

2

1500–1599

1

1

1600–1649

1

1 3

1650–1699

1

2

1700–1749

1

2

1750–1799

1

7

1800–1849

1

1

1

3 2

1

1

2

1

2

1

2

1

1

1

4 6 2

3

3

1

1

8 12

4

1850–1867 1868–1899

1

4 1

4 10

1900–1924

1

3

2

2

1

9

1925–1949

10

2

5

1

3

21

1950–1974

8

8

4

4

5

29

1975–1999

7

3

3

1

3

17

Total 29 22 31 22 25 6 3 Note: m in the table is utilizing the Hatori model to calculate tsunami sizes. Source: T. Usami (2003), 15.

138

(see table 1.4). Tsunamis struck Japan eighty-nine times in the 133 years since the beginning of the Meiji era, for an average of 0.67 times per year. These tsunami after the Meiji era varied in size: [4] = 1 tsunami, [3] = 13 tsunamis, [2] = 9 tsunamis, [1] = 15 tsunamis, [0] = 19 tsunamis, and [−1] = 29 tsunamis. But as the tsunamis got smaller, their frequency grew (Usami 2003). According to the data in table 1.2, tsunami size m = [−1] does not cause any damage at all. When the magnitude of the earthquake reaches into 7.0, the tsunami size will get into m = [0]. As the magnitude of the earthquake crosses over 7.75, the tsunami magnitude will be more than [2], bringing great damage to property on land. Therefore, since the beginning of the Meiji era, thirty-eight tsunamis reached

20 10

30

Historical Geography of the Japanese Tsunami   51  

10 20 1894 1952 30

Sea of Japan 10

1896 30

20

10 20

1968

1933 2011

10

10

20

20

20

1944

10

20

1946 20

1944 20

Pacific Ocean

historic earthquake/tsunami minutes taken by tsunami to reach Japan's coast

Figure 1.1. Time Taken by Tsunami Waves to Reach Japan’s Shore. Source: Hatori 1977a, 106.

(or exceeded) the m = [1] level of the tsunami magnitude, averaging once every 3.5 years. Twenty-three tsunamis were m = [2] or greater (causing great damage to property on land), averaging once every six years (Usami 2003). Accurately predicting the time when a tsunami will reach the shore is crucial for saving lives. According to the map in figure 1.1, drawn from the data of eighty-five years’ worth of earthquake tsunamis in Japan, it takes about twenty minutes for a tsunami to travel from the epicenter to the Hokkaido Coast, about twenty to thirty minutes to the Sanriku Coast, about ten to twenty minutes to the Hyuga shore, and about twenty minutes to the coast of the Sea of Japan (Hatori 1977a; Hatori and Koyama 1971).

52  Unryu Suganuma

Historical Geography of Japanese Tsunamis Japanese scientist Tokutaro Hatori has done extensive and comprehensive research on Japanese tsunamis in his career at the Research Institute of Tokyo University. Hatori is probably the only scientist who has conducted a number of fieldworks from northern Hokkaido to southern Okinawa, covering all major tsunamis in Japan’s geographical regions. He has not only studied Japanese tsunamis in depth, but he has researched other large tsunamis throughout the world and conducted comparative studies between the Japanese tsunamis and world tsunamis (Hatori 1963; Hatori 1982; Hatori 1981). Unfortunately, Hatori’s works have not become well known in the West because most of his papers have been written in Japanese. According to Hatori, Japan can be divided geographically into seven tsunami regions: (1) the Eastern Coastal Region of Hokkaido; (2) the Sanriku Coastal Region; (3) the Southern Kanto Region; (4) the Tokai-Nan Kaido Region; (5) the Kyushu Region; (6) the Sea of Japan Region; and (7) the Okinawa Region (Hatori 1977a).

(1) The Eastern Coastal Region of Hokkaido In last 130 years, the Eastern Coastal Region of Hokkaido (see figure 1.2) had three tsunamis with a magnitude of m = 2–2.5, in particular the Nemuro Coast tsunami in 1894, the height of which reached ten meters (see table 1.5). But tsunamis with a magnitude of m = 1 occur in the Eastern Coastal Region of Hokkaido frequently. 1 2 3

Eastern Coastal Region of Hokkaido Sanriku Coastal Region Southern Kanto Region

4 5 6 7

1

Tokai-Nan Kaido Region Kyushu Region

1940

Sea of Japan Region Okinawa Region 1993

6

1994 1894 1952

1741

2003 1968

1833

1896 1611 1933 2011 869 1897 1793

2

7

1923 1096 1944 1605 1854 1605 1498 1854 1707 684 887 1946 1361 5 4

1677 1703

1911

3

1771

Figure 1.2. The 35 Major Tsunamis in Japan. Sources: The map was compiled by the author based on data from Hattori 1977a, Uji et al. 2001, Usami 2003, and Shuto 2007.

Historical Geography of the Japanese Tsunami   53  

On March 22, 1894, the Nemuro coast in Hokkaido had an M 7.9 earthquake, which spread the tsunami from Hokkaido to Iwate Prefecture. There were over 170 aftershocks that day, and about 348 earthquakes in March 1894 alone (Usami 2003). About ten years before the 1894 earthquake, experts had warned of the possibility that a huge earthquake might occur in the Eastern Coastal Region of Hokkaido (Hatori 1974). In fact, in 1952 and 1969 two earthquakes occurred near the epicenter of the 1894 tsunami. This means that for about seventy-five years after the 1894 tsunami, there were basically no earthquakes at all in this region. An expert predicted that an M 8.0 earthquake might occur in the Hokkaido Region sometime soon (Hatori 1977a). Shortly after publishing his prediction, in 1973, the Nemuro Peninsula had an M 7.3 earthquake. The tsunami had only one-fifth of the wave energy of the 1894 tsunami (Hatori 1974). However, the 1973 tsunami might not have been a reappearance of the 1894 tsunami due to the smaller magnitude of the earthquake. Based on additional tsunami data from the former Soviet Union, tsunami magnitude, and the source area of the tsunamis generated in the Hokkaido and Kurile regions between 1893 and 1978, it is believed that future tsunami of magnitude m = 2 may occur, accompanying the release of seismic energy between the two regions (Hatori 1979a). Recently, the 1993 Hokkaido Nasei Coast tsunami severely damaged the Ota fishery town (Tsuji, Kato, and Satake 1994), and the 2004 earthquake in the Kushiro Coast generated a small tsunami (Tanioka and Katsumata 2007).

(2) The Sanriku Coastal Region Geographically, the earliest recorded great tsunami in Japan is the Jogan tsunami, which occurred in the Sanriku Coastal Region in 869 (see figure 1.2). The Sanriku Coastal Region is a typical active earthquake area in Japan’s geography. It is one of largest earthquake zones and consists of several areas (from north to south): (a) the Northern Sanriku Area; (b) the Middle Sanriku Area; (c) the Miyagi Coast Area; (d) the Southern Sanriku Coast (closing to the trench); (e) the Fukushima Coast; (f) the Ibaraki Coast, and (g) the Boso Coast/Ibaraki Coast (see figure 1.3). The 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami affected each of these areas. Today, the Sanriku Coastal Region has become world famous because of the March 11 tsunami. As early as 1978, when the Sanriku region had a tsunami resulting from an earthquake, experts warned that “the region from the 1,000 m depth line to near the trench, the east side of the present tsunami may be a region of relatively high tsunami risk” (Hatori 1978b, 1189). In 2006, some earthquake scientists reported that “the probability of the occurrence of another similar earthquake (like in 1936, 1937, 1978, and 2005) in the next 30 years is 99%” (Kanamori, Miyazawa, and Mori 2006, 1533). In 2007, experts issued another warning: “The probability of the occurrence at the magnitude M7.5–8.0 earthquake in the Miyagi Coast in the next 30 years is 98%” (Hatori 2007, 145). Then the Sanriku Coast tsunami occurred on March 11, 2011, one of the greatest disaster tsunamis in Japanese history. On the evening of June 15, 1896, at 7:30 p.m., the Sanriku Coastal Region had a gentle earthquake that lasted about two to three minutes (first wave). However,

54  Unryu Suganuma

a

March 11, 2011

b

Japan Trench

c

d

July 13, 869 (Jogan)

e

f

g

a b c d e f g

Northern Sanriku Area Middle Sanriku Area Miyagi Coast Area Southern Sanriku Coast Fukushima Coast Ibaraki Coast Boso Coast/Ibaraki Coast

Figure 1.3. Sanriku Coastal Area: The 869 Jogan Tsunami vs. the 2011 Tsunami. Source: Oki and Koketsu 2011, 51.

about twenty to thirty minutes later, based on historical geography textbooks (Hatori and Koyama 1971), the second wave hit. It was huge. More than 26,000 lives were lost to the Meiji Sanriku tsunami (343 people in Aomori, 22,565 in Iwate, and 3,452 in Miyagi) (see table 1.6). More than 15,000 houses and nearly 7,000 ships were destroyed (Usami 2003). The tsunami reached as high as 38.2 meters, making it the highest tsunami in Japan’s history to that point (Hatori 2009a; Sangawa 2011). Even in other parts of Japan, the height of the Meiji Sanriku tsunami recorded quite high: about ten to fifteen meters in the northern Sanriku Coast, about five to ten meters in southern Sanriku Coast, and over twenty meters in Yoshihama/Ryorishirahama (Hatori 1999; Hatori 1977a). About seven hours later, the Meiji Sanriku tsunami

October 4, 1994 September 26, 2003 March 11, 2011

33 34 35

Eastern Hokkaido Tokachi Coast Sanriku

Nankaido Sanriku Haruka Coast Nankaido Enshunada Nankaido Enshunada Enshunada Nankaido Sanriku Sanriku Eastern Boso Coast Southern Boso Nankaido Hokkaido Nansei Yaeyama/Miyako Sanriku Haruka Coast Yamagata Coast Enshunada Nankaido Nemuro Penisula Sanriku Haruka Coast Miyagi Coast Amami-Oshima Bay Sagami Bay Sanriku Haruka Coast Western Hokkaido Kumanonada Nankaido Tokachi Coast Etorofu/Kuril Tokachi Coast Southwest Hokkaido

Origin of Wave

3.0 4.0 37.9

12 20 2.0 8.8 6.2 3.0 10–15 1.0 30.6

Highest (meter) 10+ 20+ 10+ 10+ 10+ 8.0+ 10–20 10–20 30 10+ 20+ 10 20 33.4+ 25-30 5+ 7.2+ 15 15 10 38.2 3.0 Hakuho Nankai Jogan Ninna Gokishichido Eicho Tokai Shohei Nankai Meio Tsunami Keicho Tsunami Keicho Keicho Sanriku Enpo Sanriku Tsunami Enpo Boso Coast Tsunami Genroku Kanto Hoei Tsunami Oshima-Oshima Volcano Meiwa Yaeyama Tsunami Kansei Tsunami Tenbo Dewa Coast Ansei Tokai Tsunami Ansei Naikai Tsunami Nemuro Coast Tsunami Meiji Sanriku Tsunami Miyagi Coast Tsunami Amami-Oshima Tsunami Taisho Kanto Showa Sanriku Tsunami Kamuimisaki Tsunami Tonankai Showa Nankaido Tsunami Tokachi Coast Tsunami Kuril Islands Tsunami Tokachi Coast Southwestern Hokkaido Coast Tsunami Eastern Hokkaido Coast Tokachi Coast Tsunami Great East Japan Quake

Earthquake’s Name

8.1/8.2 8.0/8.0 7.9/9.0

8.4 8.6 8.6 8.0–8.5 8.4 8.2–8.6 8.0 7.9 8.1 7.75–8.0 8.0 7.9–8.2 8.4 7.5? 7.4+ 8.0–8.4 7.5 8.4 8.4 7.9/8.2 7.6/8.3 7.7/8.0 8.0 7.9/7.9 8.1/8.3 7.5/7.6 7.9/8.0 8.0/8.1 8.2/8.0 8.1/8.3 7.9/8.1 7.8/7.8

M/Mto Tosa, Kumano Coast, Northern Izu Shiogama of Miyagi, Soma of Fukushima Shikoku, Kii Peninsula, Osaka Bay, Hyuga Suruga Bay, Ise Bay Kii Peninsula, Osaka, Tosa From Kii Peninsula to Boso From Boso to Pacific Coast of Kyushu, Kagoshima From Boso to the Pacific Coast of Kyushu Hokkaido, Aomori, Iwate, Miyagi, Fukushima Aomori, Iwate, Mutsu Bay Fukushima, from Chiba to Eastern coast of Izu From Inubosaki to Izu Peninsula, Tokyo Bay From Izu to Pacific Coast of Kyushu Hokkaido, Aomori, Sado, Ishikawa, Shimane Ishigaki, Miyako Islands Miyagi, Iwate, Hachinohe Matsumae, Sado, Wajima, Oki From Boso to Kochi From the previous Tsunami to Osaka From Hokkaido to Iwate Iwate, Hokkaido, Aomori, Miyagi Southern Iwate Prefecture Amami-Oshima, Kikaijima Chiba, Tokyo, Kanagawa, Shizuoka Hokkaido, Aomori, Iwate, Miyagi Western Hokkaido, Sado, Okinoshima Mie, Wakayama Mie, Wakayama, Tokushima, Kochi Hokkaido, Aomori, Iwate, Miyagi Kuril Islands Hokkaido, Aomori, Iwate, Miyagi Hokkaido, Aomori, Akita, Yamagata, Niigata, Ishikawa, Shimane Hokkaido, Aomori, Iwate, Kuril Islands Hokkaido, Aomori, Iwate Miyagi, Iwate, Fukushima

Affected Area

M = Earthquake magnitude. Mto = Tsunami magnitude. Sources: The author compiled the table using the following books: S. Oki and K. Koketsu (2011), 10–21; Shuto et al., eds. (2007), 334–339; Tsuji (2011), 140–177; Sangawa (2011); Hatori (1988); Hatori (1977a), 8, 44–96; Usami (2003).

November 29, 684 July 13, 869 August 26, 887 December 17, 1096 August 3, 1361 September 20, 1498 February 3, 1605 February 3, 1605 December 2, 1611 April 13, 1677 November 4, 1677 December 31, 1703 October 28, 1707 August 29, 1741 April 24, 1771 February 17, 1793 October 26, 1833 December 23, 1854 December 24, 1854 March 22, 1894 June 15, 1896 August 5, 1897 June 15, 1911 September 1, 1923 March 3, 1933 August 2, 1940 December 7, 1944 December 21, 1946 December 7, 1952 October 13, 1963 May 16, 1968 July 12, 1993

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Date of Tsunami

Table 1.5. A History of the 35 Major Tsunamis in Japan

56  Unryu Suganuma

reached Hawaii with 2.5–9.0-meter-high waves. The tsunami brought damage to many regions of the world (Usami 2003). About thirty-seven years later, at 2:31 a.m. on March 3, 1933, the Sanriku Coastal Region had another earthquake. But people in the region felt only an M 4 or M 5 shock; some even went to the beach to check for tsunamis. As a result, most people in the Sanriku region went to bed again. About thirty to sixty minutes later (Hatori and Koyama 1971; Hatori 1976), the Showa Sanriku tsunami hit the region, killing over three thousand people (see table 1.6). More than ten thousand homes and over seven thousand ships were damaged. For instance, in the Taro town of Iwate 763 people were killed out of a population of just 1,798, and 358 of the town’s 362 homes were carried away by the tsunami (Usami 2003). According to some survivors who escaped to high ground, the Showa Sanriku tsunami was like a “Wall of the Sea” (Hatori 1977a; Sangawa 2011). The inundation height of the Showa Sanriku tsunami reached about five to ten meters in the northern coast of Sanriku, about ten to fifteen meters in the southern coast of Iwate Prefecture, and about four to five meters in the Miyagi Coast. The Showa Sanriku tsunami hit western Japan’s Miyazaki Prefecture (7.5 centimeters), Kona, Hawaii (3 meters), California (10 centimeters), and Iquique, Chile (20 centimeters), as well (Usami 2003). In Japan, people had learned lessons from the 1896 Meiji Sanriku tsunami; many towns in the Sanriku Coastal Region had taken tsunami prevention measures, including planting trees, building tsunami walls, and constructing evacuation routes. As a result, the damage to the Sanriku Coastal Region by the 1933 Showa Sanriku tsunami was minimized (Usami 2003). After two well-known tsunamis—the 1896 Meiji Sanriku tsunami and the 1933 Showa Sanriku tsunami—assaulted the Japanese coastal areas, the term tsunami began to be utilized throughout the international community (Imamura 2010; Shimazaki 2011). Tsunami became a universal term after the 1960 Chile and 1964 Alaska earthquakes. It is well known that the huge shock of an earthquake can generate gigantic tsunamis. However, a small earthquake can also create a titanic tsunami. In this case, scientists refer it to as the tsunami jishin, “tsunami earthquake” (Shimazaki 2011). The term “tsunami earthquake” originated after the shocks of the Sanriku Coastal Region. The relationship between the tsunami and the earthquake is tricky. On the one hand, fundamental differences between the tsunami and earthquake endure. The tsunami is caused by the earthquake, but the earthquake cannot be triggered by the tsunami. On the other hand, the phrase “tsunami earthquake” has often been used. In 2011, Fumihiko Imamura defined it in broad terms; the “tsunami earthquake” refers to a tsunami whose scale is larger than that of the earthquake that created it. If the difference in magnitude is 0.5 or more, it is considered a “tsunami earthquake” (Imamura 2011b). In other words, if the earthquake is M 6.0, the tsunami’s magnitude must be 6.5 or greater. About three hundred years before the 1896 Meiji Sanriku tsunami, the Keicho Sanriku tsunami struck. It was an m = [4], the largest in the Sanriku. It was December 2, 1611 (Hatori 2009a). It occurred in the winter daytime, between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. The coastal areas between Iwate and Fukushima might have felt the mag-

Historical Geography of the Japanese Tsunami   57   Table 1.6. Historical Geography of the Sanriku Coastal Region # 1 2 3

Year 869 1585 1611

Loss Over 1,000 people A number of people were killed. The number is unknown. At least 1,783 people were killed. About 85 horses and cows were lost. 4 1616 Great damage. The exact size of damage is unknown. 5 1651 The damage is unknown. 6 1676 Both people and personal properties were lost. 7 1677 Houses were washed away. 8 1687 The loss is unknown. 9 1689 The damage is unknown. 10 1693 About 300 ships were washed away. A number of people died. 11 1716–1735 Houses and rice fields were damaged. 12 1751 The damage is unknown. 13 1781–1788 The damage and loss are unknown. 14 1793 Some houses were flooded. 15 1836 Some hundred houses were washed away; people were killed. 16 1856 The great damage of houses and people were killed. 17 1867 The loss is unknown. 18 1894 Small tsunami was observed. 19 1896 About 26,360 people were killed, and 4,398 people were injured. About 10,370 houses were carried away. 20 1915 Small tsunami was observed. About 3,000 people were killed, and 1,421 persons were missing, 21 1933 with the injury of 1,258 people. About 7,263 houses were destroyed. 22 2011 Significant damage to the region; over 20,000 persons were killed and over 10,000 people were missing. Numerous houses were destroyed. Sources: Shuto (2011); Uji, Shima, Yoshii, and Yamashina, eds. (2001); Kanamori (1972); Hatori (1977a).

nitude 4–5 earthquake, whose epicenter was extremely similar to that of the 1933 Showa Sanriku tsunami (Hatori 1977a; Hatori, Aida, Koyama, and Hibiya 1982). The huge wave of the Keicho Sanriku tsunami hit the Sanriku Coastal Region three times. In local feudal ruler Date Masamune’s domain, at least 1,783 people died. About three thousand people and horses in southern Tsugaru, about eight hundred people in the Uzumai/Otsuchi/Yokosawa area, about fifty people in Funakoshi, about twenty people in Yamada, and 150 people in Tsugaruishi were lost (Usami 2003). All homes in Iwanuma of Miyagi Prefecture were carried away. About seven hundred people in Fukushima Prefecture’s town of Soma died, and about fifty people along with all the houses in Rikuzentakata of Iwate Prefecture were lost. No home was left in Miyako of Iwate at all. According to historical textbooks, many

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people were killed in eastern Hokkaido as well (Usami 2003). But the damage to the coastal areas varied (see tables 1.5 and 1.6). For instance, the village of Taro in Iwate Coast, where the tsunami hit twenty meters, was totally wiped out, and in Koyadori the tsunami reached over the mountain pass, with its height being about fifteen to twenty meters. Even the city of Sendai had a six- to seven-meter tsunami (Hatori 2000). The tsunami in some towns, such as Yamada, was higher than the 1896 Meiji Sanriku tsunami, but the tsunami in other towns, such as Otsuchi, was lower than the 1933 Showa Sanriku tsunami (Hatori 1977a; Hatori, Aida, Koyama, and Hibiya 1982; Tanioka 2001). In addition to the above three major tsunamis in the Sanriku Coastal Region, a number of smaller tsunamis have occurred there. In 1968, Tokachi Coast had an earthquake that was generated in the same place as both the 1854 and 1856 earthquakes. Similarly, both the 1763 and the 1856 earthquakes were the same type as the 1968 Tokachi Coast earthquake (Hatori 2000). Going back about another century, to 1677, the M 4–5 earthquake that shocked Iwate and Aomori probably was similar to the 1968 Tokachi Coast earthquake (Kajiura, Hatori, Aida, and Koyama 1968; Hatori 1977a; Hatori 2003). However, earthquakes in 1674 and 1739 did not record damage caused by tsunamis. Recently, on the morning of September 26, 2003, the Tokachi Coast had an M 8.0 earthquake, which was a reoccurrence of the earthquake in the same place in 1952 (Imamura 2004; Yamanaka and Kikuchi 2003; Kimura and Okamura 2009; Hatori 2009b). Furthermore, the Miyagi Coast Area also has had some tsunamis. The 1793 tsunami recorded a four- to five-meter inundation height, bringing significant damage in the Miyagi region. The 1897, 1835, 1861, and 1898 tsunamis were all generated by earthquakes that were over 7.0 in magnitude in the region (Hatori 2002). Analogously, the 1678, 1717, 1770, and 1793 earthquakes that occurred in the Miyagi Coastal Area had magnitudes of 7.4 to 7.6 but brought little damage in the Sanriku Coastal Region (Hatori 1977a; Hatori 1978b). Except for the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami, the earthquakes in 1933, 1936, 1937, 1978, and 2005 all hit Miyagi Prefecture; the 2005 earthquake in the Miyagi Coast can also be observed on the Korean peninsula (Che, Lee, Jeon, and Kang 2007; Kanamori, Miyazawa, and Mori 2006).

(3) Southern Kanto Region Relatively speaking, the Southern Kanto Region (see figure 1.2) has had fewer tsunamis than the Sanriku Coastal Region. During the recent period, the 1923 Taisho Kanto earthquake and the 1953 Boso Coast tsunami had small waves. Based on existing historical records, four giant tsunamis occurred in the Southern Kanto Region. First, two tsunamis struck the region on the same day, February 3, 1605. The tsunamis were recorded from the Boso region to the Kyushu region, but there is little evidence left in historical documents of the precise damage (Usami 2003). In Tateyama, Kondaiji Temple has a monument stone that documents the names of over four hundred people who died. The tsunami went through the town of Kamogawa, in Boso region of Chiba Prefecture; none in the town survived the 1605 tsunamis.

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On the Hachijo Island of Tokyo, the height of the tsunamis reached ten to twenty meters (Hatori 1975). Seven hundred houses in Wakayama were carried away by the tsunamis, 41 percent of the prefecture’s homes. The waves’ heights were four to six meters (Hatori 1977a; Usami 2003). The next time a giant tsunami struck the Southern Kanto Region was on November 4, 1677, seven months after the 1677 Enpo Sanriku tsunami on April 13. About 490 houses in Iwanuma of Miyagi Prefecture and about eighty lives in Onahama of Fukushima Prefecture were lost (Hatori 1977a). About 2,150 people drowned in the villages from Naruto to Ichinomiya along Kujukuri Beach on the Boso Peninsula (Hatori 1979b; Hatori 2010). The destruction by the 1677 tsunami in the Southern Kanto Region did not stop in coastal areas of Miyagi and Ibaraki. Hachijo Island and the eastern coast of the Izu Peninsula were also damaged (Usami 2003). Based on the size of the tsunami and the land devastation, tsunami experts estimate that the November 4, 1677, earthquake must have been an M 8.0 (Hatori 1977a). Early on New Year’s Eve of 1703, at 2:30 a.m., a giant tsunami assaulted the Southern Kanto Region. This was the Genroku Kanto tsunami, the fourth massive tsunami to strike the region. For example, the wave of the tsunami struck the Kamakura Station area, killing six hundred people. The total number of deaths from the Genroku Kanto tsunami reached 10,367, including 2,291 in Odawara, 6,534 in Boso, and 340 in Edo (Usami 2003; Hatori 1979b). In particular, the destruction of Odawara was substantial. The whole area, including houses from Kawasaki to Odawara, was completely wiped out (Usami 2003). Unfortunately, the 1923 Taisho Kanto earthquake brought the reappearance of the 1703 Genroku Kanto tsunami (Hatori 1977a; Hatori 2010; Tsuji 2011; Sangawa 2011). Other tsunamis, including the 1633 Kanei tsunami and the 1782 Tenmei tsunami, which were generated in Sagami Bay, also assaulted the Southern Kanto Region. Regrettably, the extent of the destruction from these tsunamis is unknown; no precise damage record is documented in historical books for either case (Hatori 1977a).

(4) Tokai-Nan Kaido Region Historical geography has shown that the Tokai-Nan Kaido Region (see figure 1.2) has a significant record of earthquakes and tsunamis. As early as 684 a.d. this region has documented records of tsunamis. Every 100 to 150 years, a titanic earthquake occurs in the Tokai-Nan Kaido Region (Hatori 1977b). Some major earthquakes, such as in 1498 (M 8.6), 1605 (M 7.9), 1707 (M 8.4), 1854 (M 8.4), 1944 (M 8.0), and 1946 (M 8.1), have brought significant destruction to both human lives and land properties. Both the 1498 Meio tsunami and the 1707 Hoei tsunami brought momentous losses to the Tokai-Nan Kaido Region. The former tsunami recorded the largest m = [4] wave, leading experts to estimate that it was caused by a roughly M 8.6 earthquake. Even the Kyodo area received a strong shock, but a record of the damage has not been found. Kamakura was hit by an eight- to ten-meter-high tsunami, damaging the Great Buddha (which stands 11.312 meters and weighs 121 tons) in the Kotoku-in Temple (Hatori 1975). About five thousand lives were lost and

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one thousand houses were wiped out in Ise-Oominato of Mie Prefecture. About 100 out 180 houses in Shioya village in Oominato were carried away; only four or five people survived (Usami 2003; Hatori 1975). The latter tsunami resulted from one of the worst earthquakes in Japan, and Mt. Fuji erupted one and a half months later. Around Shizuoka Prefecture, the height of the inundation reached about eight to ten meters in Yagisawa, about five to six meters in Shimoda, about five meters in Minato, about six to eight meters in Sagara, and about five meters in Miho (Hatori 1977b; Tsuji 2011; Sangawa 2011). The tsunami reached Kujukuri-hama, in Chiba Prefecture, two hours after the earthquake, killing fourteen people (Hatori 1984a). Even in Kochi Prefecture the tsunami reached over twenty meters (destroying 11,167 houses). It got to five to six meters in Wakayama, destroying 700 out 850 homes, and it cost 104 lives in Kyushu (Hatori 1985b; Hatori, Aida, Sakashita, and Hibiya 1983). According to some historical files, about ten thousand people died in the Osaka area (Usami 2003; Hatori 1977a). The eruption of Mt. Fuji caused further damage in the Tokai-Nan Kaido Region. However, there was further destruction beyond the 1498 Meio tsunami and the 1707 Hoei tsunami in the Tokai-Nan Kaido Region. Additional tsunamis (see figure 1.2) occurred there on two consecutive dates in 1854—the twin tsunamis, the Ansei Tokai tsunami on December 23 and the Ansei Nankai tsunami on December 24. Substantial research has been done by Japanese scientists regarding these two tsunamis (Hatori 1977a; Hatori 1977b; Hatori 1978a; Hatori 1978c; Hatori 1980; Hatori 1984a; Usami 2003; Tsuji 2011). The year 1854 was significant in Japanese history. That was when Matthew Calbraith Perry (1794–1858), a commodore in the U.S. Navy, knocked on Japan’s “closed” door asking Japan to open its ports. Japan was still in an age of samurais and swords. The nation lacked any substantial technological development, such as steamships or guns. Eventually, the Tokugawa Shogunate agreed to open trade with the United States by signing the Convention of Kanagawa in March 1854. While Japan settled its international differences with the United States quietly, nature settled with the people of Japan with more force. At nine o’clock in the morning on December 23, 1854, a gigantic M 8.4 earthquake hit the coast of the Tokai Region; the epicenter of the tsunami was in the Tokai Coast. Fortunately, the tsunami struck during the day, so people were able to evacuate from the disaster. After the shock, the Ansei Tokai tsunami assaulted areas from the Boso Peninsula to Kumano-nada Beach, destroying over sixty thousand houses, more than twenty-six hundred lives, over eight thousand ships, and over sixteen hundred temples and shrines. Areas between Numazu and Ise Bay received the worst damage, knocking off 90 percent of the housing (Usami 2003; Tsuji 2011). In addition, the tsunami traveled as far as the Shikoku coast, recording one-meter inundation heights in Tokushima and Kochi Prefectures. Some of the worst inundations and damages from the Ansei Tokai tsunami on December 23 were:

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Mie Prefecture Koga: 6–10 meters high Kou: 8–10 meters high Toshikara: 6.9 meters high Kamisaki: 6–6.7 meters high; former Yoshizu village was wiped out Nishiki: 6 meters high Owase: 6–8 meters high; 90 percent of the town was wiped out (350 people killed) Sukari: 5 meters high Nikishima: 8 meters high Atashika: 8–10 meters high

Shizuoka Prefecture Kakisaki: 6.7 meters high; 75 houses were carried away Shimoda: The Russian warship Diana, which was laying at anchor off the port, was severely damaged. One sailor was killed, and the Diana needed to be repaired in Shimoda. Sotoura: 4–5 meters high Inatori: 4.4–5.5 meters high Kawana: 4.5 meters high Ito: 4 meters high Atami: 6.2 meters high

Kanagawa Prefecture Fukuura: 7 meters high; water reached the stairs of the temple Katase: Drinking wells dried up, then the tsunami came Zushi: 3–4 meters high Kotsubo: 6.8–7.7 meters high Yokohama: 1–2 meters high

Tokyo Tokyo Bay: The water in the Sumida River reversed; the water overflowed into Taido-ku. In Urayasu, the tsunami height reached 1–1.5 meters.

Chiba Prefecture Kamogawa: 3–4 meters high Choshi: 1–2 meters high (Hatori 1977b; Hatori 1984a; Hatori 1978c; Hatori, Aida, Iwasaki, and Hibiya 1981; Sangawa 2011) Many survivors of the Ansei Tokai tsunami thought that the M 8.4 earthquake was enough for the region to clean up; they never believed that another titanic earth-

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quake would hit the region again. But thirty-one hours after the December 23 Ansei Tokai tsunami, the Ansei Nankai tsunami hit the Tokai-Nan Kaido Region at 4:00 p.m. on December 24. A second earthquake, another M 8.4, had created a second titanic tsunami. The tsunami’s epicenter was in the Kii Peninsula Coast. Kochi and Wakayama Prefectures recorded an M 6.0 shock. The tsunami was similar to the one the previous day. After twelve hours, the wave reached San Francisco, recording a 12 centimeter tsunami (Hatori 1977a). Most housing located west of Kumano (around Kii Beach) was destroyed. In the local feudal ruler Tanabe’s domain of the Kii region, 255 houses were destroyed, 532 homes were washed away, 441 homes burned down, 264 storehouses went up in flames, and three temples were blazed. In Wakayama, 18,086 houses were totally wiped out. The inundation level of both Yuasa and Hiro of Wakayama Prefecture reached 4.7–5 meters, killing twenty-eight (Hatori, Aida, Sakashita, and Hibiya 1983; Usami 2003; Tsuji 2011). The height of the inundation touched fifteen meters in Kushimoto, nine meters in Mugi and Koza, seven to eight meters in Usa, six meters in Shishikui, five and a half meters in Tachibana, and five meters in Susaki and Urado (Hatori 1978a; Hatori 1980; Usami 2003). The earthquake that hit the Kii Peninsula in 2004 also created a tsunami (Saito, Satake, and Furumura 2010).

(5) Kyushu Region Earthquakes in the Kyushu Region (see figure 1.2) are relatively active and energetic; once every ten years the region has an M 7–7.5 earthquake. However, the heights of most of the tsunamis have been below m = [1]; the scales of the tsunamis have been lower than the earthquakes. The 1662 Hyuga-nada earthquake (M 6.0) only generated a three- to four-meter inundation (costing 200 lives), and the 1769 Hyuga-nada earthquake (M 5.0) generated a small tsunami that washed away 531 houses in Oita. In the last half-century, about nineteen tsunamis originated in the Kyushu Region (Hatori 1997a; Hatori 1985b). Nonetheless, two major tsunamis in the Kyushu Region, the 1596 Beppu Bay tsunami and the 1792 Shimabara Mayuyama tsunami, are renowned throughout the world. The Beppu Bay tsunami began on September 4, 1596, with an M 6.9 earthquake. According to old maps, before this earthquake there was an island called Uryujima. It was about four kilometers east to west, about 2.2 kilometers south to north, and about twelve kilometers in circumference. The island was located inside the Beppu Bay of Oita Prefecture, about four hundred meters from the shore of the Beppu Bay and Mt. Takasaki. About one thousand households, with a total of five thousand people, lived on the island of Uryujima. Historical documents show that people living on the islet of Uryujima were very happy until the 1596 Beppu Bay tsunami. On September 4, 1596, the huge tsunami basically sank the island of Uryujima into the sea, killing 807 people. In July of the following year, the cape Hisamitsujima also sank, taking some forty lives (Hatori 1977a; Hatori 1985a; Uji, Shima, Yoshii, and Yamashina 2001). Like in the movie Japan Sinks, the two islets went into the sea. Today, about twenty meters from Oita Beach, the center of Uryujima is lying fifty

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meters under the sea; these two islands no longer exist. The mystery of the sunken islets is still unsolved. The inundation heights at the Nata and Saganoseki mouths of the bay reached six to eight meters. At Uwaura and Usuki, located outside Beppu Bay, the inundation heights were three to four meters. The tsunami front ran one and a half kilometers into the city of Oita, where tsunami heights reached four to five and a half meters, and many temples were washed away. Only two hundred of the approximately five thousand houses survived. Many villages were wiped out (Hatori 1985a; Usami 2003). In October 1791, a number of small earthquakes hit the Shimabara Peninsula of Nagasaki Prefecture, and the volcanically active Mt. Fugen erupted. The frequent shocks and the volcano’s eruption destroyed twenty-three homes and killed two people (Usami 2003). On May 21, 1792, two huge earthquakes shocked the Shimabara Peninsula. The eastern slope of the mountain of Mayuyama totally collapsed, and about 0.44 cubic kilometers of soil and rocks rushed into Shimabara Bay, generating three large-scale tsunamis. The Mayuyama became four hundred meters lower than before the earthquake, and the beach moved forward about seven hundred to eight hundred meters (Sasahara 2004). The tsunami hit both sides of the bay. The greatest height of the tsunami was 22.5 meters at Otao village in Misumi town (Tsuji and Hino 1993). The inundation reached nine meters in Shimabara, and more than four to five meters in Kumamoto (on the opposite side of Shimabara). About 15,030 people were killed in both Shimabara and Kumamoto (Hatori 1977a; Usami 2003; Tsuji and Hino 1993; Tsuji 2011).

(6) Sea of Japan Region Usually, the historical geography of Japanese tsunamis in the Sea of Japan Region (see figure 1.2) reflects tsunami activities on the west side of Hokkaido. Unlike the Sanriku Coastal Region, which faces the Pacific Ocean, the Sea of Japan is like a “gigantic lake,” having a simple coastline (Abe 2009; Hatori 1977a). The side of the Sanriku Coastal Region has higher tsunamis than the Sea of Japan side. Relatively speaking, the area from western Hokkaido to the Toyama Coast, including the Noto Peninsula, has recorded many tsunamis. But the area on the west side of the Noto Peninsula has extremely low tsunami activity. A magnitude 6.0 earthquake damaged Kanazawa city severely; it caused the 1799 Kansei tsunami. The height of the inundation may have reached three to four meters. Other tsunamis also hit the Sea of Japan Region, such as the 1792 tsunami that hit the Shakotan Peninsula, Hokkaido, resulting in lost lives and boats in the United States, and the 1834 tsunami that hit the Ishikari Coast of Hokkaido, carrying away twenty-three households and assaulting areas of western Hokkaido (Hatori 1977a; Uji, Shima, Yoshii, and Yamashina 2001). At 5:30 a.m. on August 29, 1741, without any shocks from the earthquake, a huge tsunami hit the area from Matsumae to the western Oshima Peninsula (see table 1.5 and figure 1.2). The height of the tsunami in some regions might have reached as high as 33.4 meters. Interestingly, no record of earthquakes was reported. However, the

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Photo 1.1. The tsunami flooded Ishigaki Island of Okinawa Prefecture and uprooted the old tree. (Photograph by Unryu Suganuma).

Oshima volcano had erupted seven days before the tsunami. About 1,953 lives were lost in Hokkaido, 729 houses were washed away, and 1,521 ships were destroyed (Usami 2003). The damage extended to Nanaura, Ishikawa Prefecture, and Sado, Niigata Prefecture. The was a strong suggestion that the 1741 Kanbo Oshima-Oshima tsunami might have been generated by the volcanic explosion, not an earthquake (Hatori 1977a). The second huge tsunami in the Sea of Japan Region was the 1833 Tenbo tsunami, which struck the Yamagata Coast (see table 1.5 and figure 1.2). On December 7, 1833, there was a magnitude 6.0 earthquake; the resulting tsunami hit the coastal areas in Yamagata and Niigata, but it extended to Sado, and as far as Oshima Peninsula in Hokkaido. The inundation height reached four to six meters, but stretched to about nine meters in Kamo of Yamagata Prefecture. The most severe damage and loss of property was concentrated in the Yamagata area (Usami 2003). The May 26, 1983, Nihonkai Chubu Coast tsunami in the Sea of Japan Region not only hit the AkitaAomori coastal areas within three hours, but also assaulted Sikhote-Alin, Russia, and the North Korean coast (within 60 minutes) and the South Korean coast (1.5 hours) (Hatori 1986a; Hatori and Koyama 1971). Recently, the 2007 M 6.9 Noto Peninsula earthquake shocked the Sea of Japan Region, including Kanazawa, Wajima, and Toyama, killing a lady (Tsuji 2011).

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(7) Okinawa Region Okinawa Prefecture has extremely short historical relations in Japan’s geography because Okinawa (formerly the Ryukyu Kingdom) was an independent nation until 1879, when Japan annexed it. Therefore, there is a lack of historical information and documents regarding the region. Since 1644, about eleven tsunamis have been recorded in Okinawa. The one gigantic tsunami that occurred in the Okinawa Region (see figure 1.2) happened prior to the Japanese annexation (Hatori 1988). At 8 a.m. on the morning of April 24, 1771, an M 7.4 earthquake assaulted Ishigaki and Miyako Islands and created a titanic tsunami. The inundation killed more than 11,861 people, including some eighty-four hundred on Ishigaki alone. About thirtytwo hundred houses washed away. At the time of the tsunami, Ishigaki Island had twenty-eight thousand people. In Ishigaki city, the height of the tsunami reached between thirty and fifty meters, and at most places on Miyako Island it reached ten meters inundation height (Hatori 1977a; Imamura, Yoshida, and Moore 2001; Usami 2003). Based on the tsunami magnitude scale, the 1771 Yeyama tsunami was an m = [4], the highest level on the scale (Hatori 1988).

The 2011 Sanriku Coast Tsunami vs. the 869 Jogan Earthquake Tsunami Since the location of Japan results in frequent multiple natural disasters, including earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunamis, and floods, as well as fires and typhoons, Japan is well prepared and trains against these disasters. Since preschool, all children have been taught how to survive during natural disasters. Many children have grown up with the natural disasters, such as tsunamis and earthquakes, and have learned how to coexist with them. Many drills for earthquakes or fires are carried out annually at schools. As the third strongest economic power in the world, Japan has spent large amounts of money studying natural disasters, including tsunamis and earthquakes; the nation possesses the most advanced warning system to predict tsunamis and earthquakes in the world (Imamura and Abe 2009). After the great disaster of March 11, 2011, many people are wondering and have some fundamental questions for today’s society. Can humans ever foresee earthquakes and tsunamis? To what extent can scientists know the timing of tsunamis? In the early 1980s, some scientists made their proposal called the asperity model (Lay, Kanamori, and Ruff 1982) to predict and analyze earthquake occurrence. In 2003, Japanese scientists suggested that three different categories of asperity distribution occur beneath the offshore Tohoku region: (1) In the northern area (40o–41.3o N), the seismic coupling in the asperity is almost 100 percent, and the size of asperity is large. (2) In the central area (39o–40o), little seismic moment has been released by large earthquakes, and the asperity size is small. (3) In the southern area (37.8o–39o), the seismic coupling is medium (Yamanaka and Kikuchi 2004). The more asperity the area has, the more likely a large earthquake will occur. This appears to be the limit, however, for how far science can predict tsunamis and earthquakes (Oki and

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Koketsu 2011). Ultimately, earthquakes and tsunamis are unforeseeable; the human race is still learning. The 1946 Aleutian Island earthquake created a titanic tsunami in the Pacific. Some scientists called it a “once in two thousand years” (Kanamori 1972) tsunami earthquake. The 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami is certainly the Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake in Japanese historical geography. Some scientists (Oki and Koketsu 2011; Sangawa 2011; Shimazaki 2011; Tsuji 2011) have begun to compare the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami to the 869 Jogan tsunami earthquake. The 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami and the Jogan tsunami earthquake are extremely similar! In terms of the scope of earthquake size, the width of the earthquake epicenter, and the gap formed in the strata, the Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake in 2011 was about ten times the size of the 1995 Hanshin-Awaji earthquake, and about three times that of the 1923 Taisho earthquake and the 2003 Tokachi earthquake (Shimazaki 2011). Before the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami occurred, much research had been done regarding the 869 Jogan earthquake by many scientists (Hatori 1998; Murakami, Kono, and Imamura 2000; Sugawara, Minoura, Imamura 2011; Satake, Namegaya, and Yamaki 2008; Kono, Murakami, Imamura, and Minoura 2000; Sugawara, Minoura, Imamura 2001; Namegaya, Satake, and Yamaki 2010; Sugawara, Imamura, Matsumoto, Goto, Minoura 2010). A well-known scientist, Shimazaki Kunihiko, nonetheless acknowledged that scientists failed to predict titanic earthquakes like the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami on March 11 in the Sanriku Coastal Region even though they realized that it was likely to have a huge earthquake originate in the area (Shimazaki 2011). The miscalculation by the experts is clear. That is, the Keicho tsunami hit the Sanriku Coastal Region in 1611, and the Meiji Sanriku tsunami attacked the same region again in 1896. The time period between these tsunamis (1611 to 1896) is about three hundred years. As a result, many experts expected that another tsunami earthquake would assault the Sanriku Coastal Region around the year 2200. However, this was a typical miscalculation by scientists; the Sanriku Coast tsunami hit the Sanriku Coastal Region in March 2011, well before the year 2200 (Tsuji 2011). The Sanriku Coastal Region might have had large earthquakes before the 869 Jogan tsunami earthquake (Iinuma 2011). Existing historical records in Japan report that a gigantic earthquake occurred in the Sanriku Coastal Region on the night of July 13, 869. According to Nihon Sandai Jitsuroku [The Record of Three Generations in Japan]: On July 13, a huge earthquake occurred in the Sanriku Coastal Region. The lightning as if it were the daytime, people are shrieking. None can stand up; all people are lying down on the ground. Some were killed inside their homes when they collapsed, and some were buried alive when the ground was racked. There are countless landslides, walls falling, storage destroyed, and horses and cows running away. The sea is screaming, the thunder is hollering, the tide is yelling, and the long wave is coming to the downtown [of Miyagi Prefecture]. The road and the rice fields, located some hundreds of li [one li = 600 meters]

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from the sea, become ocean. Those who cannot take their boats or climb the mountains die. The death count is a thousand. All properties are lost. In the school textbook, the 869 Jogan earthquake in the Sanriku Coastal Region (see figure 1.3) scaled M 8.3, but recent data utilizing a new model have shown it to have been M 8.4 (Oki and Koketsu 2011). The height of the tsunami ranks it m = [4], the highest category of Japanese tsunamis, along with the 1611 Kecho tsunami earthquake and the 1896 Meiji Sanriku tsunami earthquake (Hatori 1998). Based on the historical documents and studies of the cracking ground, the magnitude jumped to M 8.5; tsunami height hit at least six to twelve meters in the Kesennuma area (Sugawara, Minoura, Imamura 2001). However, the 869 Jogan tsunami earthquake in the Sanriku Coastal Region is totally different from other earthquakes that occurred in the region, such as the 1793 (M = 7.4–7.6), 1835 (M = 7.5), 1978 (M = 7.4), and 1936 (M = 7.5) quakes (Hatori 1998). The scale of damage was greater than people imagine today because Miygagi Prefecture was underdeveloped in 869, when vegetation covered all over the prefecture (Sugawara, Minoura, Imamura 2001). Killing about one thousand people was arguably more significant (Sugawara, Minoura, Imamura 2011), as at that time fewer people lived in underdeveloped areas like Miyagi Prefecture. The Jogan tsunami earthquake even assaulted Soma of Fukushima Prefecture in 869 (Shimazaki 2011; Sugawara, Minoura, Imamura 2011). This is known because scientists found that the 869 tsunami deposits extend more than three kilometers from the coastline of Ishinomaki of Miyagi Prefecture, which is about 1–1.5 kilometers inland of the present coast (Satake, Namegaya, and Yamaki 2008; Sangawa 2011; Kono, Murakami, Imamura, and Minoura 2000; Namegaya, Satake, and Yamaki 2010). The extent of damage by the Jogan tsunami earthquake was similar to the damage in the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami on March 11 (see figure 1.3). The warning sign is here that the 869 Jogan tsunami earthquake fault might generate another tsunami in the future.

Conclusion The Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake in 2011 has awakened many people in the world. That is, humans need to coexist with nature, not against it. The natural disaster not only can destroy human lives, but it also is able to wipe towns or/and cities from the map. Analyzing the historical geography of the thirty-five major Japanese tsunamis reveals how the environment in the seven regions has been shaped over the past thousand years. These tsunamis have changed the landscapes completely. In the Kyushu Region, two islets sank into the sea. In the Sanriku Coastal Region, the 869 Jogan Tsunami shaped the environment in Miyagi Prefecture. Unfortunately, little data about the 869 Jogan tsunami have survived. Scientists know that a gigantic tsunami will hit the Sanriku Coastal Region, after the 1896 Meiji Sanriku tsunami and (three hundred years earlier) the 1611 Kecho tsunami earthquake. When the 1933 Showa Sanriku tsunami hit the Sanriku Coastal Region, the damage was minimized because people had learned the lesson from the 1896 Meiji Sanriku tsunami. Sadly,

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people in the twenty-first century did not learn the lesson from the 869 Jogan tsunami earthquake, as the Sanriku Coast tsunami in 2011 struck the Sanriku Coastal Region and caused tremendous damage. Science might have had its limit in foreseeing the Sanriku Coast tsunami, but scientists, whether geologists or geographers or others from different fields, coordinating and learning with each other, certainly have a responsibility to predict possible tsunamis in the future. The need to minimize human miscalculation in the scientific research is urgent. People living in Japan are smart enough to protect themselves if they have credible evidence to persuade them. If the Japanese learned the lesson of a once in a half-century tsunami (between the 1896 Meiji Sanriku tsunami and the 1933 Showan Sanriku tsunami), there is no reason to believe that people in Japan would not learn the lesson from the 869 Jogan tsunami.

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72  Unryu Suganuma Satake, K., Y. Namegaya, and S. Yamaki. 2008. “Ishimaki/Sendai heiya ni okeru 869-nen Jogan tsunami no suchi shimyureshon” [Numerical Simulation of the AD 869 Jogan Tsunami in Ishinomaki and Sendai Plains]. Katsudanso/Kojishin Kenkyu Hokoku [Annual Report on Active Fault and Paleo-Earthquake Research] 8:71–89. Shimazaki, K. 2011. “Chokyodaijishi, Jogan no jishin to choki hyoka” [Giant Earthquake of 2011, Jogan Earthquake, and Long-Term Forecasts]. Kagaka [Science] (May): 397–401. Shinmura, Izuru. 1998. Kojien [The Great Japanese Dictionary]. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. Shuto, N. 2011. “Sanriku chiho no tsunami no rekishi” [The History of the Tsunami in the Sanriku Region]. Unpublished paper. Shuto, N., et al., eds. 2007. Tsunami no jiten [An Encyclopedia of the Tsunami]. Tokyo: Asakura Shoten. Sugawara, D., F. Imamura, H. Matsumoto, K. Goto, and K. Minoura. 2010. “Kako no tsunamizo no teiryoteki fukugen” [The Re-Do Image of the Past Tsunami]. Tsunami Kogaku Kenkyu Hokoku [The Annual Report of Tsunami Engineering Research] 27:103–132. Sugawara, D., K. Minoura, and F. Imamura. 2001. “Seireki 869-nen Jokan tsunami ni yoru taiseki sakuyo to sono shuchi fukugen” [The Sedimentation Effect and Its Re-Do Data in the 869 Earthquake]. Tsunami Kogaku Kenkyu Hokoku [The Annual Report of Tsunami Engineering Research] 18:1–10. ———. 2011. “Sereki 869-nen Jogan tsunami ni yoru tasekimono ni kansuru genchi chosa” [The Field Investigation of the Sediment in the 869 Tsunami]. Gekkan Chikyu [Earth Monthly] 33 (3): 132–139. Tanioka, Y. 2001. “Sediment Effect on Tsunami Generation of the 1896 Sanriku Tsunami Earthquake.” Geophysical Research Letters 28 (17) (September 1): 3389–3392. Tanioka, Y., and K. Katsumata. 2007. “Tsunami Generated by the 2004 Kushiro-oki Earthquake.” Earth Planets Space 59:e1–e3. Tsuji, Y. 2001. “Tsunami” [Tsunami]. In Jishin no jiten [Encyclopedia of Earthquakes], ed. T. Uji, E. Shima, T. Yoshii, and K. Yamashina, 328–353. Tokyo: Asakura Shoten. ———. 2011. Sennen Shinsai [The 1,000-Years Earthquake Disaster]. Tokyo: Diamond-sha. Tsuji, Y., and T. Hino. 1993. “Kansei yonen Shimabara hanto Mayuyama no hokai ni tomonau ariakekai tsunami no Kumamoto-ken gawa ni okeru higai, oyobi engan sojotaka” [Damage and Inundation Height of the 1792 Shimabara Landslide Tsunami Along the Coast of Kumamoto Prefecture]. Jishi Kenkyujo Iho [Bulletin of the Earthquake Research Institute] 68:91–176. Tsuji. Y., K. Kato, and A. Satake. 1994. “Hokkaido nasei-oki jishin tsunami no Hokkaido hondo kaigan shuraku de no shinshui takasa” [Heights and Damage of the Tsunami of the 1993 Hokkaido Nansei-oki Earthquake in the Residential Areas on the Coast of the Hokkaido Mainland]. Jishi Kenkyujo Iho [Bulletin of the Earthquake Research Institute] 69:67–106. Uji, T., E. Shima, T. Yoshii, and K. Yamashina, eds. 2001. Jishin no jiten [Encyclopedia of Earthquakes]. Tokyo: Asakura Shoten. Usami, T. 2003. Nihon higai jishin soran, 416–2001 [Materials for Comprehensive List of Destructive Earthquakes, 416–2001]. Tokyo: Univ. of Tokyo Press. Washington Post. 2011. “World Bank Estimates Japan Damage Up to $235 Billion; Smoke Rises from Nuclear Plant.” March 22. Watanabe, T. 2003. “Nihon kinkai ni okeru tsunami jishin oyobi gyaku tsunami jishin no bunbu” [Tsunami Earthquake Distributions and Negative Tsunami Earthquake Distributions in the Sea Are Off the Japanese Islands]. Rekishi Jishin [History of Earthquake] 19:161–164. Yamanaka, Y., and M. Kikuchi. 2003. “Source Process of the Recurrent Tokachi-oki Earth-

Historical Geography of the Japanese Tsunami   73   quake on September 26, 2003, Inferred from Teleseismic Body Waves.” Earth Planets Space 55:e21–e24. ———. 2004. “Asperity Map Along the Subduction Zone in Northeastern Japan Inferred from Regional Seismic Data.” Journal of Geophysical Research 109 (B07307): 1–14.

2

Facing the 3/11 Waves Junko Oikawa I must cultivate a whole host of words in my heart Words which can forever soothe, encourage, and lift a person out of despair So many that I could never use them all as long as I live. —Miura Ayako, Unforgettable Words: From My Red Notebook

How can I possibly put that disaster into words? The terror of the earthquake and tsunami, the grief of losing family and homes, the pain, the helplessness, the undirected anger. . . . Even as I write them, I know that common, overused words like these cannot begin to express it. What words can I use to convey what I think and feel after the disaster? On that day, as I was working at my home in Kanagawa, there was a massive tremor. Luckily the house was built to withstand earthquakes, and the books that bury my walls didn’t come crashing down, but the shaking seemed to go on forever. The sun was setting by the time I got in touch with my husband, who had been stranded at work in the city, and my parents, who lived out of town. The power was still out when night fell. When I heard on the radio news that the hypocenter was off the Sanriku Coast in Tohoku, I was worried. My father is from Oshu, Iwate, and my mother is from Yamamoto, Miyagi; I have relatives living all throughout Tohoku. Yamamoto is a quiet town overlooking a peaceful ocean by the Fukushima border, and I consider it my hometown. I suppose that if you define “hometown” as “the place where you were born and raised,” it isn’t really, but I call it my hometown just the same. When I was a child, there was a time that I stayed at my mother’s childhood home under the care of my grandmother and aunt and uncle, who were farmers. It must have been all the love they showed me—I didn’t feel the slightest bit lonely so far from my parents. It was the best place in Tohoku to grow strawberries, and my aunt and uncle were avid greenhouse farmers; I got to eat mountains of strawberries so big I could barely fit them in my mouth. I ran all over the fields and hills, and I loved playing by the cattle barn. I’m told that when my father came from Tokyo to see me, I’d become such a country girl he barely even recognized me. For me, the whole region is filled with fond memories of my happy childhood, and I have my origins there in more ways than one. The power came back on around midnight on the day of the earthquake, and when 74  

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I turned on the television I saw video of an enormous tsunami pounding the shores of Tohoku. I was blown away by the images, and even as I panicked I couldn’t take my eyes off the videos, which played over and over again. I was at a loss for words. A loss for words . . . there’s another trite expression. But for quite some time after that day, it felt like I had actually lost my words. I know that people mean well when they use the spirited catchphrase “Hang in there, Japan!” or try to turn “kizuna” [bond] into a buzzword. So why do those words sound so cheap after being said over and over by the media? I have an old, faded notebook in which I’ve written all the words that have moved me since I was in my teens. There’s a little bit of everything in there: poems, lines from novels and movies, even some in English and Chinese. Tracing my way through the dates I wrote in blue ink, I can recapture little bits of my past selves. I have included many quotes describing the way I would like to become, perhaps in an effort to calm the murky waters of my heart and skim a few clear, pure words from them. Miura Ayako’s words were written in that notebook. Do I know any “words which can forever soothe, encourage, and lift a person out of despair”? Have I “cultivated” “so many that I could never use them all as long as I live”? When I ask myself these things, I’m not sure I can answer. Before the earthquake, I probably could have strung together some words filled with innocent hope. But now, after the earthquake, I will have to take back my lost words and weave together my own new sayings. I am not a poet, and I lack the power to express my thoughts. But if there’s anything I can express, it’s the reality that I know. I feel that by recording these little fragments of reality, I can at least struggle to keep my heart from being swallowed by that giant tsunami too. Home is what we think of from afar Singing songs of lamentation —Muro Saisei, Lyric Poetry Anthology The phrase “Home is what we think of from afar” says it all for people who live away from their hometowns. Perhaps all of the people you remember fondly and all the images you’ve etched into your heart just stay with you, detached from reality and forever beautiful. I happen to be one of those people who yearn for home, but I always thought the “singing songs of lamentation” line didn’t quite fit. “Songs of lamentation” are the selfish thoughts of the people who live far away, so it seemed almost rude to the hometown. But as I stood with my eyes glued to the tsunami footage, Muro Saisei’s words sank into my heart. My mother is the youngest of ten children, so we have no shortage of relatives. We were able to confirm that my aunt and uncle in Soma and my uncle’s family in Sendai were fine, but we were unable to contact my aunts in Yamamoto. Their power was probably out, and there was no guarantee that we would be able to call just because our phones were working. We knew that they would contact us as soon as they could. The day after the earthquake, my husband finally made it home from the city

76  Junko Oikawa

and we headed for my parents’ house, where we started wracking our brains for ways to contact our relatives in the country. If we could only contact my cousin at my mother’s old house, we would know what was going on. But at the time, no one there had that kind of luxury. Everyone, everywhere, was desperately trying to find out if their loved ones were safe. Even as the news hit us with video after tragic video, we decided to do everything we could on our own. We couldn’t afford to just sit there and be shocked. Our first priority was gathering information on the survivors. I don’t even know how many hours it took to get through to the NTT’s disaster information hotline and register with them. Next was the NHK’s disaster report. It was a longshot, but it’s a small town and if anyone in the area was receiving the broadcasts they would pass the information along. It felt like prayer. The smartphone that I had just started using proved to be a powerful tool. Searching for anything that might help, I came across Google’s “Person Finder” service. As the name suggests, it was an online tool for finding people; you entered your name and the name of the people you were looking for, and it would search for them and send you email updates if there was any news. A week after the earthquake, my cousin would discover that I had been looking for him this way. Trying to silence the little voice that said it wouldn’t work, I also signed up with the Miyagi Police Department’s missing persons hotline. Anything would do as long as it worked; we were grasping at straws. There was constant news coverage on the damage in Sendai, Kesennuma, and Ishinomaki, but nothing at all for Yamamoto. After waiting and waiting, the first report we got was just a short news brief: “The Miyagi prefectural office has lost contact with the Yamamoto town office.” There have to be other people who are worrying about their hometown from far away. There must be others like us who are making call after call on phone lines that won’t connect. These thoughts led me to the personal blog of a young entrepreneur from Yamamoto living in the city. I was able to contact my family back home, people have been evacuated to the schools and town office. . . . Whenever he posted information like that, I would read it aloud to my mother. His blog was our only link to Yamamoto. I can’t tell you how grateful we were when he posted photos of the lists of survivors’ names that had gone up in the evacuation centers. Armed with those pictures, we searched desperately for the names of my aunts and cousins. This chance online encounter with a fellow resident’s blog gave us the courage to get through those times. On the night after the earthquake, the news ran helicopter footage of Shinchi Station on the JR Joban Line. Shinchi Station is just before our stop at Sakamoto Station. It was an appalling sight. Aside from the pedestrian bridge, the building had been swallowed by the tsunami, and a train lay miserably on its side, floating in the water that covered the area. To me, the Joban Line, which ran along the quiet seaside, was more a part of my hometown than just a way to get there. There should have been a big pine forest between the tracks and the beach. I couldn’t even grasp how powerful the tsunami must have been to rise over it.

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As you can tell from place names like Shinhama [New Beach], Nakahama [Middle Beach], and Isohama [Rocky Beach], Yamamoto faces the ocean, and the JR Joban Line and Highway 6 run side-by-side through its quiet sandy beaches and pastoral landscapes. My mother’s sister-in-law lives with her family in Nakahama, where my mother grew up. This is the aunt I loved so much, the one who took care of me. My aunt in Nakahama lives even closer to the ocean. All I could do was pray that both families were safe, that they had escaped, and that my elderly aunts had kept on running tirelessly. At the time, I thought that even if the tsunami had gone over the Joban Line, it couldn’t have reached the highway farther west. But the ferocity of nature was beyond human imagination, and the water crossed the highway, swallowed houses, and climbed all the way to the rice fields nearly two kilometers from shore. Five days after the earthquake, my aunt and uncle from Soma finally made it into the area and contacted us. We got some good news, but there were also people missing. That was the cruel reality of my hometown. My cousin in Isohama searched desperately for her missing husband and son until the end of March, when she finally got closure. I was told that the local crematorium was so busy they had to transport the bodies all the way to Yamagata to be cremated. Unto a broken heart No other one may go Without the high prerogative Itself hath suffered too. —Emily Dickinson This poem caught my eye a little while after the earthquake. I am no expert on the American poet Emily Dickinson, but her short verse grips my heart. It’s true—no matter how hard I work my imagination, I can never share in the feelings of the disaster victims. I can never guess what it would be like to lose my family, watch my house float away, and be torn from my old home to live as an evacuee. I have a cousin in Nakahama who made the rounds to all of the morgues and is still waiting to hear about her missing husband even now. What can I possibly say to her? I believe, just as Emily Dickinson wrote, that “Unto a broken heart / No other one may go.” There were 674 people killed in Yamamoto. Many of them were my friends and relatives. As the full scope of the damage became clear, I heard of the deaths of acquaintances, of the woman from our neighborhood who was so nice to me when I was little. I can’t imagine how my mother must feel as she searches for the names of her old classmates. The tsunami surged over a six-meter breakwater to cover 65 percent of the city’s area, washing away over a thousand homes. The Joban Line is being moved inland, and it will be ages before it opens again. So many people were forced to leave the town that the population a year after the earthquake was down 13.9 percent. The town has declared the coastal districts—which form a third of its

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area—to be disaster risk zones and created a small-scale recovery plan that will not include infrastructure improvements. I wanted to get back home as soon as possible, but it was harder than I ever imagined. There were gasoline shortages even in Kanto, and every day Kanagawa was at the mercy of the rolling blackouts. The only thing that got me through those hectic days was a translation that I needed to proofread and edit for publication the next month. I cursed the uselessness of a researcher’s work at a time like this, but I was still glad to have something to do. It wasn’t until the string of holidays in May that my husband and I piled everything we could into our car and finally set out for my hometown. Two months had passed since the earthquake, but the town was still in a state beyond imagination. Sakamoto Station, our stop, had been reduced to a twisted pedestrian bridge at the edge of a vast, desolate field. The building and the tracks had been washed away, and when I climbed up the rubble of the barely recognizable platform I could see the beach right in front of me, dotted with shipping containers that had washed ashore. We looked for my grandmother’s resting place among the toppled, sand-covered gravestones in the cemetery, but in the end we weren’t even sure where it had been. My aunt and her family had made it out safely and were living as evacuees away from the town. The road to the old house was still just barely passable, but nothing around it was the same. Looking for the houses I knew from my childhood, I saw only foundations. There were places where the water still hadn’t drained away and places where it had left a thin, white film of salt as it evaporated. The old house had somehow managed to keep its shape, but it was in such a terrible state that you could still see clearly where the tsunami had hit it. The maple tree my late uncle had planted still stood there defiantly. It used to blend in with its surroundings, but now it grew out of piles of rubble, the sea visible behind it for the first time. The beach seemed so close without the pine forest to hide it. I walked around to my relatives’ houses, sometimes celebrating joyful reunions, sometimes just sighing with them. I believe everyone was fumbling for words—we had rushed in from a long way away and they didn’t want to worry us, but at the same time they were full of the desire to talk, to share what had happened. In my hometown, each family was depending on neighbors and volunteers for support in these rough times. All of the survivors were struggling just to get through each day. I wondered what I would say to my beloved aunt when I met her. Not having seen the tsunami in person, I cannot imagine how terrifying it was. I was astonished that she could have run to safety with her bad leg. I wondered if she was still in good health after losing loved ones and being stuck in a packed evacuee shelter, unable to return to her house full of fond memories with my uncle, trying to cope with the sadness. I wondered if she had resolved to go with her son and his wife, who had started a new life away from town for the sake of their children. When I finally met my aunt again, there was nothing either of us could say—we just held hands and cried together. Right then, the only thing I cared about was

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the fact that she was alive and we had been reunited. It didn’t matter what state my hometown was in because, to me, my aunt is my hometown. Despair is empty; and hope, the same. —Petőfi Sándor Despair is like hope, in that both are vanity —Luxun, Hope One of my cousins married the head of a fishermen’s union and settled down by Matsukawaura Bay in Soma, Fukushima. Around there, the wives of the sailors who work in the bay are called “ship greeters.” My cousin raised four children, and her oldest son is continuing the family business with his wife and four children; they are local celebrities, and have even been interviewed for television programs. Their house, which stands on high ground overlooking the quiet bay, escaped the tsunami, but the fishing vessels were heavily damaged. Matsukawaura Bay holds a special place in my memories. When I married my husband, this was where we held the reception, celebrating the start of our new life together with our families. The tranquil bay with its gorgeous scenery is designated as a prefectural park, but it was unrecognizable after the earthquake. There were still fishing boats washed up on hills and houses floating in the bay, and the fishing co-op and marketplace were gone for good, swallowed by the waves. My cousin was surprised by my visit, but she told me about how they escaped the tsunami in the same cheerful voice she always uses. It will cost a preposterous amount of money to rebuild the fishing fleet. Even so, she says they will build new ships for their children and grandchildren. But she sighed, wondering if Fukushima’s fish supply will even be safe when they are ready to fish again. Matsukawaura Bay is only fifty kilometers from the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear reactor. The accident is even closer to home for my cousin and her family, who keep a large ship at Onahama Port in Iwaki. The government may announce that the situation is under control, but the accident is an ongoing struggle, and the real harm comes from trying to hide it with words like “no immediate harm from radiation.” Can any words express the sorrow of fishermen who can’t fish and farmers who can’t plant their crops? Those of us who live in the big cities have sacrificed something priceless for the convenience we enjoy. After the tsunami ravaged my hometown, we had to suffer through the tragedy of another, manmade disaster, and the response to the nuclear accident revealed deepseated problems with this country; this is what really made me feel helpless. When I heard the politicians and experts telling us there would be no direct effects and the media blindly repeating their words, I felt disappointment like nothing I had ever felt before. After the accident, I had to get my information from online reports by German and English monitoring stations on the projected movements of radioactive material. Isn’t Japan supposed to have all the cutting-edge science and technology? Don’t we have freedom of speech and the press? Why, in the country that had suf-

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fered through Hiroshima and Nagasaki, had we started up so many nuclear plants in the name of “peaceful nuclear energy”? I was enraged at the power companies, who had pushed the nuclear plants onto rural areas in exchange for a commission, ignored safety in favor of profits, and failed to face reality or place any blame; I was enraged at the government and its handling of information; I completely lost faith in my country. Words like future and hope and dreams crumbled to rubble inside of me. An old teacher of mine from Koriyama, Hukushima, once used the phrase “Despair is like hope, in that both are vanity” to describe the nuclear accident. These words were made famous by Lu Xun, although Lu Xun was actually inspired by the Hungarian poet Petőfi Sándor. If despair and hope are both vanity, then the only sure thing is living for today. My aunt, now in her eighties, told me, “No matter how much I’m grieving, I still have to eat and I still have to cook for my family,” and those words have stuck with me. With the loss of her family members weighing on her heart, she just smiled and said, “I lived through the war. This isn’t so bad!” She sent me a booklet of The Giant Tsunami That Swallowed a Little Town, a collection of stories published by the Yamamoto Folklore Society in the hopes that young people and residents who have moved away won’t forget what happened. The many accounts of the survivors, spelled out in the language of my hometown, echo heavier in my heart than any other words ever could have. Some people cheer themselves up when their hearts are about to break by saying, “As long as I still have my family, it doesn’t matter that our house is gone.” These are truly strong words. But those innocent words can sting when overheard by those who are grieving for their lost families. “That’s why I just had to get out of that crowded evacuation center”—my cousin needed the time and space to remember her loved ones and to cry. Grief is different for everyone. I have never been able to even guess the thoughts of the victims, much less compare them. I do know that when my aunts and cousins say, “Don’t worry” or “We’ll get through this,” they are doing everything to express their deepest thoughts. I believe that welcoming everyone’s thoughts and simply standing by them is the way I will stay connected to my hometown now. The survivors of the disaster must live on with the memories of the dead in their hearts. Even now I struggle for words when faced with my devastated hometown, the sheer number of lives lost, and, more than anything, the many problems forced on us by the nuclear accident. And yet, I believe that if I want to make something of my life as a survivor of March 11, I have no choice but to awkwardly piece together more writing like this. As the author and poet Henmi You noted in Words Out of the Rubble, we all need to find words to talk about the disaster, words to help us keep on living. I finally arrived at the same conclusion a few months after the earthquake. “Words”—they can be an “ideology” or a “philosophy,” maybe a “poem” or a “novel.” To some, they could be a “religion”; to others, an “ideal” or a “plan of action.” I believe that whatever form they may take, we survivors of the disaster need these words and the quiet power they have to keep our hearts from drowning in waves of grief.

3

Tsunamis and Earthquakes in Japanese Literature Yukiko Dejima Donald Keene, a noted scholar of Japanese literature, made a comment that although earthquakes and tsunamis have been recorded from ancient times, they do not appear in works of Japanese literature except for Hojoki and a few other works. “Japanese people probably thought they should not write about fearful events,” says Keene, who gained Japanese citizenship after he was inspired by the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake (Nihon Keizai Shimbun, March 11, 2012; Daily Yomiuri, April 24, 2011). Japanese literature is good at depicting the beauties of nature and subtle everyday feelings, such as is seen in traditional tanka and haiku (short poetry forms). Major earthquakes and tsunamis are tragic events that interrupt people’s everyday lives, and are often too cruel to be reminded of repeatedly, while minor shakes and tsunamis are parts of everyday events and nothing romantic to be a subject of literary works. Numerous earthquakes and tsunamis appear in historical materials since the earthquake in the year 416 appeared in Japan’s oldest history book, Nihonshoki [Chronicles of Japan] (Ida 2009). Gokokushi, five historical books that follow Nihonshoki, covers a period of 191 years, and during this period earthquakes occurred on 619 days (Nagayama 1995). This chapter aims at clarifying how Japanese people experienced major tsunami and earthquake disasters in the past and how their attitude toward these disasters has been expressed in works of literature. In the pre-modern period, people tended to think of earthquakes and the accompanying tsunamis, along with weather phenomena, as acts of gods or some spiritual existence. People asked official fortunetellers what the recent earthquake indicated, prayed for their safety and relief, and tirelessly rebuilt their lives. There were tsunami and earthquake disasters that matched the one in March 2011, but every time they recovered from the damages. After the restoration of imperial power in 1868, Japanese society was modernized and Westernized, and literature was influenced by this social transformation. What is called “tsunami literature” and “earthquake literature” began to appear, especially after major disasters of the Meiji Sanriku tsunami (1896), the Great Kanto Earthquake (1923) and the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake (1995). These disasters were so dreadful that many writers were paralyzed by shock and found themselves unable to write, and some felt literature was useless in the face of catastrophe. But at the same time, other writers said that these large-scale disasters let them see things 81  

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clearly and gave them driving power to write. Their words in literary works cheer up, comfort, and sometimes alert people who live in a country where nature is both harsh and beautiful. The 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake has already made writers produce vivid pieces of work, including poems (in both traditional and modern style), fictions, and nonfiction works. However, it takes time for many writers to sublimate their bitter experiences into a work of literature. If we are going to have a full-scale literary work on the 2011 tsunami and earthquake disaster, we will have to wait another several years.

Tsunamis and Earthquakes in Pre-Modern Japanese Literature Although numerous earthquakes and accompanying tsunamis appear in pre-modern historical records and personal diaries, they seldom became a theme of literary works. Minor and major earthquakes were recorded because they were considered to represent divine manifestations. People in pre-modern Japan judged their politics with earthquakes (together with thunders, storms, and floods), and asked yin-yang masters or fortunetellers what would happen and what they should do after large earthquakes. Only Kamo-no-Chomei, who wrote the superb collection of essays Hojoki [An account of my hut] in the Kamakura Period (1192–1333), had the distinguishing idea that earthquakes (and other natural disasters) represent mujo or uncertainty in this world. Since then, mujo has come to be an integral element of Japanese literature.

Jogan Earthquake and “Sue-no-Matsuyama” Japanese people enjoy, even today, a traditional card game called “Ogura hyakunin isshu [One hundred waka poems],” especially during the New Year’s holiday. This anthology of one hundred short waka poems was compiled in the thirteenth century, and includes poems as old as the seventh century. One of these poems goes as follows: “Chigirikina katami ni sode wo shiboritsutsu Sue no Matsuyama nami kosaji to wa,” which means, “We promised, squeezing our sleeves soaked with tears, that our love would never change just as waves would never wash over the Sue-no-Matsuyama hill.” Since the Heian period (794–1192), “Sue no Matsuyama” has been a popular phrase in poems (Iwasaki 1985). The Sue-no-Matsuyama hill has been believed to never be washed over by tidal waves, so it was often used in poems to symbolize a firm promise between a man and a woman. The place of the hill is still a topic of debate, but it is often believed to be in Tagajo city in Miyagi Prefecture (K. Kobayashi 2011). Some scholars suggest that the origin of the Sue no Matsuyama, as something never to be washed over, dates back to the Great Jogan Tsunami Earthquake in 869. Nihon sandai jitsuroku (a chronicle of the period between 858 and 887) has records of the Jogan earthquake. It says that people screamed, could not stand up, and many were crushed to death under fallen houses, castles, storehouses, gates, and walls. There was a huge tsunami that killed about a thousand people (Yura 1995). The flooded area of the Jogan tsunami and the 2011 tsunami in the Tagajo area is proved to be

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quite the same, and as Sue no Matsuyama in Tagajo escaped from the tsunami in 2011, it is easy to imagine that the place equally escaped from the tsunami in 869 (K. Kobayashi 2011). The Sue-no-Matsuyama poem in the card game was based on another Sue-noMatsuyama poem in Kokin wakasyu, a collection of poems compiled in the tenth century. This poem, which goes, “Kimi wo okite adashi kokoro wo wagamotaba Sue no Matsuyama nami mo koenamu [If I love someone else instead of you, waves will wash over Sue no Matsuyama],” was so popular in the Heian era that Murasaki Shikibu cited this poem repeatedly in her famous work, Genji Monogatari [The Tale of Genji] (K. Kobayashi 2011). However, tsunamis and earthquakes themselves seldom became the central theme of poems. Takuro Yura (1995) says that even though descriptions of earthquakes frequently appear in ancient chronicles, such as Shoku Nihon koki (869) and Montoku Jitsuroku (879), natural catastrophes seldom became the main subject of literature in the Heian period.

Hojoki [An Account of My Hut] Hojoki by Kamo-no-Chomei (1155–1216) was almost the only literary work written in the pre-modern period that was eagerly read after the Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake by people seeking for a hint of how to understand the disaster beyond human comprehension. Since the year 2012 was the eight hundredth anniversary of the completion of Hojoki, several modern translations and related works on this collection of essays were published and received attention. A modern translation by Kazuhiko Asami was published in November 2011 and reprinted three times, resulting in more than nine thousand copies (Yomiuri Shimbun, May 1, 2012). Authors in the affected area read Hojoki after the disaster and found some emotional support in the book. Ryo Matsushima in Sendai translated Hojoki mirroring his severe experience of the March 11 disaster, after getting comfort by reading this book (Asahi Shimbun, June 10, 2012). Sokyu Genyu, a Buddhist monk and author in Fukushima, said Kamo-no-Chomei’s work reminded him of the truth that nature keeps changing, and we could learn from the book the importance of breaking free from our obsession with anything, including houses and lands. “What we need now is an ability to respond to everything with a fresh mind,” Genyu says (Asahi Shimbun, December 19, 2011). Most Japanese people can recite the first few lines of Hojoki, because they learn them at school: “Ceaselessly the river flows, and yet the water is never the same, while in the still pools the shifting foam gathers and is gone, never staying for a moment. Even so is man and his habitation” (Kamo-no-Chomei, early fourteenth century). Kamo-no-Chomei then depicts several disasters, such as a fire, a tornado, and an earthquake “like a journalist” (Y. Kobayashi 2012). His description of the Genryaku earthquake on July 9, 1185, includes landslides, liquefaction damages, and a tsunami. Seismologist Kazuo Oike calls this masterpiece of medieval literature “the world’s first essay on disasters” (Asahi Shimbun, January 4, 2012). Chomei writes

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how houses collapsed and people died under fallen roofs and walls. He then repeats how vulnerable human beings and their residences are, and tells that he finds a way to lead a peaceful life in living alone in a small hut in a remote area. His life and residence are so simple and easy to rebuild that he does not have to worry about being affected by disasters. Kamo-no-Chomei’s view on earthquakes is outstanding among contemporary works. The Genryaku earthquake in 1185, which is depicted by Kamo-no-Chomei as an example of the uncertainty of the world, also appears in some chronicles and diaries of aristocrats of the period, but in those records the earthquake is explained either as a work of spirits of the dead or as a divine revelation. Heike monogatari [The Tale of the House of Taira] and Genpei seisuiki [Rise and Fall of the Houses of Minamoto and Taira], both completed in Kamakura period, explain that the Genryaku earthquake was caused by a curse of the Heike clan that was utterly destroyed in the war early in the same year (Nakanishi 1995). Earthquakes in other parts of the Heike monogatari are depicted as predictors of historical incidents, such as a death of an important person or a coup (Hisamatsu 1985). Azuma Kagami (circa 1300), an official history of the Kamakura Shogunate, contains records of the Genryaku and numerous other earthquakes, because earthquakes were considered to express divine judgment over national politics. According to Azuma Kagami, yin-yang masters were called for after the Genryaku earthquake in 1185, and they told that the huge quake meant that the emperor should be kept under house arrest (Yuasa 2008). Kanezane Kujo (1149–1207), an aristocrat, also wrote about a divination after the Genryaku earthquake in his diary. He described a fortuneteller saying that something bad might happen to the emperor or a war might break out. He feared future events that were signaled by the earthquake, rather than the earthquake itself. Kanezane wrote that although there had been earthquakes from ancient periods, he had never heard of earthquakes destroying people and their houses until this great earthquake in 1185. Yuasa (2009) points out that because medieval buildings (except for temples) were simply built with wood and were one-storied, damages from earthquakes might have been far less than in modern cities. Kamo-no-Chomei dismisses his contemporaries’ discussions to find meanings in the huge earthquake, and just accepts it as a part of the ever-changing world.

Ideas on Earthquakes in the Early Modern Period Viewing earthquakes as divine acts remained common throughout the medieval period and well into the early modern period. The Japanese archipelago kept being shaken from time to time, but the quakes did not appear in main literary works during the age of no (masked dance-dramas) and kyogen (short comedic dramas). According to Shuichi Kato (1997, 112), “literature began to reach all social classes” during this period, and the “greater audiences for art and literature in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries stimulated specialization by writers and artists.” Thus, anonymous drama writers and renga (linked verse) poets began to produce literary works that often represented lives of common people.

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While earthquakes are difficult to find in literary works from the late medieval to early modern period, there was an interesting custom among common people to stick a sheet of paper, on which waka poems were written, on gateposts after earthquakes, as a study by Yuya Matsuoka (2006) shows. Matsuoka discusses the custom performed by people after the Fushimi earthquake on September 5, 1596, using a historical document, the Tokitsune-kyo ki, a diary written by court noble Tokitsune Yamashina (1543–1611), who spent thirteen years among common people while he was away from the capital because of an accusation he drew from the emperor. Posting charms on gateposts that faced public streets was a common way among people to protect their houses and families from evils. After the Fushimi earthquake, people copied three waka poems on a sheet of paper and posted it on their gateposts to prevent further misfortunes. Each of the three waka poems mentioned imaginary authorities who were thought to have a power to control natural disasters, such as the god of earthquakes (Kashima) and the mythical ancestor of the imperial family (Izanami). Matsuoka says that people felt uneasy hearing rumors that another major earthquake was coming, and tried to feel safe and secure by posting waka poems that would drive away evils brought by earthquakes. Waka poems were used as a tool for people to protect themselves from earthquakes and other disasters. The custom of posting waka poetries after earthquakes was seen as late as 1855, when a severe earthquake hit Edo (today’s Tokyo) and more than six thousand people died. Hundreds of kawaraban (information sheets) were issued after the disaster, and one of them advised to copy a waka poem, which said, “The stone of Kanameishi will never be moved as long as the god of Kashima exists,” and to post it on gateposts (Hosono 2008). The Kanameishi stone was thought to hold down the creature that would cause earthquakes, and the creature was thought to be a dragon until the beginning of the Edo period (1603–1868). The dragon was replaced by a giant catfish during the seventeenth century, and people believed that earthquakes were caused by the giant catfish until the late nineteenth century (Hosono 2008). Toru Hosono (2008) found a renga by the famous haiku poet Matsuo Basho (1644–1694) about a major earthquake in Edo in August 1678. Konishi Jijun, one of Basho’s disciples, composed the opening verse, which says, “Successive huge earthquakes occur and a dragon goes up into the air,” and Basho composed the remaining lines, “it is actually a catfish which is ten-jo [thirty meters] long.” This is a rare piece of literary work in the early modern period mentioning an earthquake, and it depicts the changing of the creature causing earthquakes from a dragon to a catfish. Basho, however, does not write about people damaged by earthquakes, and his attitude was shared by Motoori Norinaga (1730–1801), a scholar in the Edo period, who created tanka poems on an eruption of Mt. Asama but saw the event as somebody else’s problem (Ibuki 1996). They did not try to sympathize with disaster victims and simply referred to disasters as events that represent some mythical creature. Tanka poems of this kind were not highly evaluated and were forgotten by the following generations. Although there were several major earthquakes during the Edo period, such as the Genroku earth-

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quake in 1703, the Hoei earthquake in 1707, the Zenkoji earthquake in 1847, and the Ansei earthquakes from 1854 to 1855, writers seldom selected these disasters as a theme of their literary works. They rather preferred comical or sensational events within everyday life. There were provincial folklores on earthquake disasters, such as “Echigo jishin kudoki,” but they mainly focused on social satires rather than people’s experiences of and recovery from the earthquake disaster (Nomura 1999). After all, among literary works in pre-modern Japan, Hojoki is nearly the only work that shows a way to comprehend major catastrophes and directly gives readers a power to face the way for recovery, although one may be cheered up by finding that Japanese ancestors overcame numerous earthquakes and tsunamis in countless works. The age of novels, or the age of writers’ attempts to express delicate human psychology in ordinary and extraordinary situations, was yet to come.

Tsunamis and Earthquakes in Modern Japanese Literature At the end of the Edo period, the Edo Shogunate was overthrown and the leadership of Japan was taken over by the Meiji emperor in 1868. The Meiji Restoration changed Japan dramatically into a modern and Westernized country. Many Westerners visited Japan, both having been invited to impart their skills and knowledge to awaken people in Japan, and having keen interest in this little-known land as explorers. Isabella Bird, an English lady who traveled widely in the Far East, was one of the latter, and she mentioned frequent minor earthquakes in her famous travel account, Unbeaten Tracks in Japan (Bird [1880] 2010). Other Westerners had more serious interest in how frequent and sometimes violent earthquakes and tsunamis affected and shaped the Japanese character. Lafcadio Hearn and Pearl Buck each wrote a literary work on tsunamis and affected people that would have a sustaining impact on the Japanese. What is called “tsunami literature” was produced after the Meiji Sanriku tsunami in 1896, followed by literary works written after major tsunamis during the Showa period (1926–1989). “Earthquake literature” was produced for the first time in large quantities after the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923, and again after the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake in 1995.

Tsunami Literature in Modern Times In 1854, Japan’s national isolation policy was broken after almost 250 years, and the country was opened to the world (or to major Western powers). Japan in 1854 was shaken both socially and physically. There were the Ansei Tokai earthquake on December 23 and the Ansei Nankai earthquake the next day, followed by the Ansei Edo earthquake in 1855. There were huge tsunamis after both the Ansei Tokai and Ansei Nankai earthquakes, and the latter made a man named Gihei Hamaguchi in Hiro village in Wakayama Prefecture a legendary hero for saving people from being engulfed by the tsunami with his self-sacrificial action. He became famous in Japan because his story, “Inamura no hii,” was printed in school textbooks from 1937 to 1947, and also in the West because he was introduced as an example of “a living god” in Lafcadio Hearn’s book published in 1898. In fact, “Inamura no Hi”

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was written by a Japanese schoolteacher, Tsunezo Nakai, who had read Hearn’s “A Living God” (Hanawa 2011). Lafcadio Hearn (1850–1904) is also known by his Japanese name Yakumo Koizumi. Born in Greece and brought up in Ireland, Hearn moved to the United States and then to Japan as a journalist. He settled in Japan as an English teacher, married a Japanese woman, and became a Japanese citizen in 1896. Bon Koizumi, a grandson of Hearn and a folklore scholar, says that Hearn focused on the impact of frequent earthquakes on the Japanese character (Yomiuri Shimbun, October 1, 2011). This objective standpoint made writing a story on tsunamis and the affected people possible. His immediate motive for writing the story was the Meiji Sanriku tsunami in June 1896. In “A Living God,” Hearn mentioned the tsunami in 1896 before starting to tell the story of the 1854 tsunami: “The last one [tsunami] occurred on the evening of June 17, 1896, when a wave nearly two hundred miles long struck the northeastern provinces of Miyagi, Iwate, and Aomori, wrecking scores of towns and villages, ruining whole districts, and destroying nearly thirty thousand human lives. The story of Hamaguchi Gohei is the story of a like calamity which happened long before the era of Meiji, on another part of the Japanese coast” (Hearn [1898] 2004, 16). Hamaguchi Gihei appears in Hearn’s work as Hamaguchi Gohei. In the story, Hamaguchi is described as a leader of the village of Hiro. When he saw a strange movement of the seawater after an earthquake, he burnt his newly harvested stacks of rice straw on the higher ground. In this way, he successfully turned villagers’ attention from the sea to the fire, and made them climb up to the safe place. Soon the massive tsunami swallowed up the village, but the lives of four hundred villagers were saved. Because of his leadership and self-sacrifice, he was made a hero in the village and came to be worshipped as a living god by the villagers. This story was adopted into school textbooks because it would tell pupils the importance of self-sacrifice and contribution to one’s community. Although the story disappeared from school textbooks soon after the Second World War, it was readopted by a school textbook just before the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake and started being used in schools from April 2011. The intention of readoption was to offer the story as material for disaster prevention education, but after the disaster in March 2011, the publisher asked teachers to use the story in a careful way so as not to hurt pupils (Cabinet Office 2010; Mitsumura Tosho 2011). The story of “Inamura no Hi,” which contains Hearn’s shock and imagination stimulated by the immediate tsunami disaster, so effectively conveys the overwhelming power of a tsunami and the bravery of the people facing it that it could turn out to be too stimulating for children soon after the great tsunami disaster. But because of this impact, the story will long remain in the heart of children, and may save many lives from future tsunamis. Nobel Laureate in literature Pearl Buck (1892–1973) shared Lafcadio Hearn’s interest in the Japanese people’s character and how it was cultivated in their beautiful but sometimes violent natural geography, and how they live together with that environment. Her interest made her write a children’s book titled A Big Wave, which is a rare work that faces straight on the tsunami victims’ sentiment, despair,

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recovery, and mental preparation to live with the sea and mountains that they both love and fear. The story was written based on Buck’s experience during her several months’ stay in Unzen in Nagasaki in 1927, which was hit by a tsunami five years before she visited. In the story, a fisherman’s son, Jiya, always pays attention to the mood of the sea, having heard about how dreadful the ocean could turn out to be. His friend Kino, who lives on the side of a mountain, laughs at him while they enjoy swimming in the beautiful sea. Kino’s father says volcanos are as dangerous as the sea, and they must accept that they live together with dangers and that they will die someday either at sea, from a volcano’s explosion, or of old age. But they do not have to be afraid, Kino’s father says, because it is the way they live. Then a massive wave hits their village following the eruption of a volcano and an earthquake, and washes away the whole village, including Jiya’s house and family. Waiting for Jiya’s recovery for a long time, Kino asks his father whether they are unfortunate to live in a country frequently hit by tsunamis and earthquakes. His father replies: “To live in the midst of danger is to know how good life is. . . . To live in the presence of death makes us brave and strong. . . . That is why our people never fear death. We see it too often and we do not fear it. To die a little later or a little sooner does not matter. But to live bravely, to love life, to see how beautiful the trees are and the mountains, yes, and even the sea, to enjoy work because it produces food for life—in these things we Japanese are a fortunate people” (Buck [1947] 1986, 32). This story is widely read in the West rather than in Japan. A Japanese person whose online name is “Jubal” read these lines from The Big Wave for the first time when he or she found them in an email from a friend in Europe who tried to cheer him or her up after the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake. Jubal found and read the book, created a four-minute video that introduced the story, and then uploaded it on a video site. “I wanted this story to be read by many people,” Jubal said to a reporter of Yomiuri Shimbun (October 17, 2011). The video was viewed more than seventeen thousand times and led to the reprinting of a Japanese edition, which sold more than sixty-five hundred copies. A priest of a temple in Shizuoka City found this book well represents the Japanese view of life and death, and bought seven hundred copies to distribute, hoping they would be helpful for the sufferers of the disaster. Another priest in Miyagi Prefecture read the book and said it would be accepted by victims of tsunamis, but that it would take time because there were still people who were not able to come close to the sea. “The Big Wave will be helpful a few years later, when the victims recover and try to accept the way one has come,” the priest said (Yomiuri Shimbun, October 17, 2011). Japanese writers followed Hearn and Buck in producing works of tsunami literature. Sanriku Kaigan Otsunami [Massive Tsunami on the Sanriku Coast] was written by novelist Yoshimura Akira (1927–2006) in 1970. It is a work of nonfiction based on Yoshimura’s investigations at the Sanriku Coast, including interviews with people who experienced any of the three main tsunamis in the area: the Meiji Sanriku tsunami in 1896, the Showa Sanriku tsunami in 1933, or the tsunami caused by an earthquake off Chile in 1960. After the tsunami earthquake in March 2011,

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the publisher of Sanriku Kaigan Otsunami received a rush of orders and reprinted 150,000 copies (Asahi Shimbun, April 23, 2011). In this work, Yoshimura describes, without expressing his emotion, how the massive tsunamis occurred, how people reacted to the unexpected huge waves, how severely damaged coastal villages were, how authorities tried to rescue victims, and so forth. Reviewer Atsushi Sasaki wrote that this book gives readers an impression of something novelistic, although Yoshimura tells facts only (Sasaki 2011). Novelist Fumihiko Takayama says that from writings of Yoshimura readers can hear voices of tsunami victims and survivors who put emphasis not on the horror of tsunamis but on the richness of the sea of Sanriku (Takayama 2004). At the end of the book, Yoshimura says he loves the Sanriku Coast more after learning the history of tsunamis (Yoshimura 1970). According to his wife, Setsuko Tsumura, Yoshimura loved walking along the Sanriku Coast. Being a novelist herself, Tsumura lamented to a newspaper reporter, “Yoshimura did research so hard and compiled data into the book, and I wonder why it didn’t turn out to be an alert [to people who suffered from the tsunami in March 2011]. Yoshimura would feel great sorrow if he saw the damage” (Mainichi Shimbun, June 2, 2011). But the book was widely read after the 2011 earthquake, and Tsumura sent all royalties from Sanriku Kaigan Otsunami to the village of Tanohata, which was severely damaged by the tsunami and where her husband used to visit every year to see the beautiful seashore and kindhearted people. His regular visiting started after he wrote a novel set in the village of Tanohata, and it was through this interaction that Yoshimura decided to do research on major tsunamis that had hit the Sanriku district in the past (Tsumura 2012). Other tsunami literature works were also reprinted after the Sanriku Coast tsunami in 2011. Like Akira Yoshimura, novelist Kanji Hanawa (born 1936) did tireless investigations into ten main tsunamis from the Ansei period (1854–1859) to 2011, and wrote nonfiction works that were reprinted as a collection after the 2011 tsunami (Hanawa 2011). Hanawa also visited tsunami-affected areas and interviewed people, and he succeeds in delivering pictures of real fear of tsunamis through his detailed account. A younger novelist, Tomoyuki Hoshino (born 1965), read Hanawa’s 1992 short novel on tsunamis, Mono Iwanu Umi [The Sea That Did Not Talk], several months after the tsunami earthquake in March 2011 and said that he was hooked on this story. Hoshino says that his fear of tsunamis was calmed down by reading Hanawa’s novel. “When talking (writing) and listening (reading) with words, one may feel pain by reviving a hard experience, but at the same time, these acts have a positive effect of changing the experience into an objective one,” Hoshino says (Hoshino 2012). A novel titled Sanriku Tsunami by Tokuhei Suchi (1921–2009) was written in 1978 based on his encounter with the Showa Sanriku tsunami in the town of Miyako in Iwate Prefecture when he was thirteen. This story was reprinted in Daishinsai no Kiroku to Bungaku [Records and Literature of Great Earthquakes], edited by Kunihiro Shimura, after the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake. The heroine Oyu experienced both the Meiji Sanriku and the Showa Sanriku tsunamis, in 1896 and 1933, and lost her whole family in the former tsunami and her only son in the latter.

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She tells her granddaughter repeatedly of her fear of tsunamis and the need to stay alert for massive tsunamis. This story shows how a handful of survivors manage to live and rebuild their community. Denuemon, a shrine’s head priest and the leader of the community, says that they must try to survive all by themselves, since they cannot wait for uncertain relief by the government. This attitude might be shared by people in the damaged area of the 2011 tsunami, and give them strength to go on. The novel Tsunami was written by Yasushi Sugawara (1929–2008) in his native dialect, that of Iwaizumi in Iwate Prefecture, based on his research along the Sanriku Coast soon after the tsunami disaster triggered by a major earthquake in Chile in 1960. It is the story of a man who survived the Meiji Sanriku tsunami in 1896 and his granddaughter. Thanks to the village people’s preparations against another massive tsunami, nobody in the village loses their life on the occasion of the Showa Sanriku tsunami in 1933. Although this book contains useful messages for rebuilding towns and villages damaged by tsunamis, it has not been reprinted yet (Mainichi Shimbun, July 8, 2011).

The Great Kanto Earthquake (1923) and Literature Full-scale “earthquake literature” by Japanese writers first appeared after the Great Kanto Earthquake in September 1923. The magnitude 7.9 quake was followed by a sweeping fire, which caused more than a hundred thousand deaths. This worst disaster in Japan affected more than 1 million people in the Kanto area, including Tokyo. Uranishi (1989) says that this earthquake marks the boundary between modern literature and contemporary literature, because the quake destroyed Tokyo, the capital of Japan and the center of literature and publishing companies, and it completely changed the mood of the literary world. Novelist Kan Kikuchi (1888–1948) said that soon after the earthquake “the first shock for us writers is that we clearly learn that literature is useless on the verge of life and death.” He was sure that literature would decline because of the great earthquake, because writers lost confidence in themselves and because both printing companies and journals became fewer in number (quoted in Uranishi 1989). Although there were some optimistic novelists, like Ton Satomi, who said “art was not damaged at all,” Uranishi says that writers were deeply shocked and literature declined after the earthquake, both in quantity and quality. Literature was revived later by a new generation of writers, not by those who had been successful before the disaster. The naturalism in literature, which was found inadequate to portray the disaster, was replaced by a group of writers who laid weight on emotions and nervous conditions, while proletarian literature came into fashion. Uranishi (1989) makes a list of short novels that can be called “earthquake literature” written soon after the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923, and says that none of them seems to be a masterpiece or likely to enter the literary canon. But writers tried to record the extraordinary disaster as far as they could, in order to share their experience and knowledge with later generations and help them overcome disasters of some sort. Novelist Kotaro Tanaka (1880–1941) wrote a minute record of his experience of the Great Kanto Earthquake and warned that people in modern society

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tend to disregard nature and overestimate the power of civilization, never thinking of the breakdown of power generation systems or water supply and sewage systems (Tanaka [1924] 2011). The famous novelist Ryunosuke Akutagawa (1892–1927) energetically walked around severely damaged areas and wrote more than ten short works concerning the earthquake. In his biographical novel Aru aho no issho [The Life of a Fool], Akutagawa wrote about the earthquake and depicted the horrifying scenes he saw. Yasunari Kawabata (1899–1972), a Nobel Laureate in literature and a friend of Akutagawa, linked Akutagawa’s suicide with this horrible experience after the Great Kanto Earthquake in his essay (Seidensticker [1983] 2010). If a goal of earthquake literature was to warn the following generations to remain aware of the danger of earthquakes, the most successful among those who published works on the Great Kanto Earthquake was probably Torahiko Terada (1878–1935). Terada was more a physical scientist than a writer, but he came to be known by his famous essay titled “Tensai to kokubo” [Natural Calamities and National Defense]. In this essay, he says, “natural disasters occur only infrequently, and another disaster strikes just when people forget the previous one” (Terada [1934] 2011, 14). These words were summarized by one of his disciples and rewritten to have a rhythm that is identical with haiku. This made Terada’s words a famous proverb, and the line was remembered even by today’s generation. Tetsuo Yamaori (2011, 151) analyzed Terada’s essays and called readers’ attention to three points emphasized by Terada: “First, the more civilization progresses, the more destructive natural disasters will be. . . . Secondly, in comparison with civilized countries in the West, Japan has been under the control of special circumstances, and the biggest of which are dangers of earthquakes, tsunami, and typhoon. . . . And thirdly, [Japanese people’s] keen perception of nature’s depth of wonder and mystery has been brushed up as a result of wisdom developed in thousands of years’ experience of disasters.” Terada says that this perception has made Japanese people submissive to nature instead of going against it, and they have learned from nature, seeing it as a teacher, and the result is that science has developed in a unique way in Japan. After the Great Kanto Earthquake, other writers expressed their hopeful view that Tokyo would be rebuilt into a magnificent city similar to those in the West. The poet Yaso Saijo (1892–1970) wrote in his poem “Ifu no toki” [The Time of Awe], “people believe that after the picture of the hell, we can see a photo of a splendid new city” (Nihon Keizai Shimbun, March 26, 2011). Novelist Junichiro Tanizaki (1886–1965) also had a hopeful view immediately after the earthquake, although he looked back ten years later and found that the city he had dreamt of was too extravagant: “‘Tokyo will be better for this!’ I said to myself . . . I have heard that it did not take ten years for San Francisco to be a finer city than before the earthquake. Tokyo too would be rebuilt in ten years, into a solid expanse of splendid buildings like the Marunouchi Building and the Marine Insurance Building. I imagined the grandeur of the new metropolis, and all the changes that would come in customs and manners as well” (quoted in Seidensticker [1983] 2010, 34). The novelist Riichi Yokomitsu (1898–1947) had a different optimism from Saijo

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and Tanizaki. Yokomitsu thought that the Great Kanto Earthquake had a positive effect on him as a novelist, since it made him see clearly a sense of self, and made it possible to examine the existing order and “regular life” (Inden 2011). Kimono, a novel by Aya Koda (1904–1990), may be the only work that can be called a masterpiece among the “earthquake literature” on the Great Kanto Earthquake. Koda was a nineteen-year-old girl at the time of the earthquake. What she saw immediately after the quake was reproduced in Kimono, a story of a girl who has a keen interest in textiles for kimonos and learns wisdom of living from her grandmother (Kishi 2011). While the heroine, Rutsuko, is confused by the earthquake disaster, her grandmother cheers her up with steady words that would help anybody in the face of a crisis. She advises Rutsuko to stop worrying, keep being cheerful, and plan how to reach a safe place quickly. She even tells jokes to make evacuees around her relax. Koda also mentions in this story how one feels receiving old clothes in spite of the givers’ good intention, and how it is to live in temporary housing. She says to live in temporary housing is to get bored. Because residents know they are going to leave soon, lives in provisional homes are poor in “flavor,” and have little attraction to escape boredom (Koda 1993). These words seem to be accurate enough to be useful for future supports for disaster victims. The story also makes us realize that the wisdom of living, as was owned by people such as Rutsuko’s grandmother, is becoming obscure in today’s society, and the loss of wisdom is a great loss for our society. To hand down wisdom of living, including hints of being prepared for disasters, must be one of the most important missions that earthquake literature has.

The Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake (1995) and Literature After World War II, Japan enjoyed economic growth and became the world’s second largest economic power in terms of GNP. Oddly enough, there were fewer natural catastrophes during the period of rapid economic growth, except for some extraordinarily powerful typhoons. People easily forgot that they live in a hotbed for earthquakes where several plates overlap, and were less prepared when an unexpected huge shake hit Kobe City and the surrounding Hanshin area in the early morning of January 17, 1995. After the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake, the earliest response of the literary circles was made by tanka, haiku, and senryu poets. These traditional Japanese styles of poems have very short verse forms, and thus directly reflect cries from the bottom of people’s hearts. Senryu poet Shinko Tokizane (1929–2007) and her husband and editor Rokuro Soga asked their fellow senryu poets to create senryu poems on the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake, compiling them into a book published two months after the quake. Tokizane says that she was able to get her strength back by creating poems on the earthquake and selecting poems for their book (Tokizane 1995). Asahi Shimbun, a major national newspaper that has regular tanka and haiku sections, asked the public for submissions of tanka and haiku poems on the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake. Within three weeks, more than twenty thousand poems arrived. About a quarter of the poems were from people in the damaged area of the

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earthquake, many of whom seemed to submit their work for the first time (Asahi Shimbun, March 4, 1995). The poems by the suffering people had an overwhelming impact and made readers feel as if they were at the site of the severely damaged areas. Some mention hardworking volunteer workers in their poems, and others depict mutual help among the affected people. A poem by a person in Fukushima is on a possible earthquake that may hit a nuclear plant in the future, as if predicting the tsunami earthquake seventeen years later (Asahi Shimbun, February 9, 1995). Eight poets selected some 720 of the submitted poems to appear in a book in April 1995 (Asahi Shimbun Kadan Haidan 1995). Although many people created tanka or haiku poems both to save themselves from the despair and to alert the following generations to the fear of major earthquakes, haiku critic Takao Suzuki said in a professional journal of haiku that few haiku poets ever create haiku poems on earthquakes. He questioned whether an earthquake is a suitable theme for haiku, which usually deals with beauties of nature with seasonal words (Suzuki 1995). Longer and modern poems followed traditional tanka, haiku, and senryu. In April 1995, Shishu: Hanshin Daishinsai [Poems: The Great Hanshin Earthquake] and Hisho to chinkon: Hanshin Daishinsai wo yomu [Sadness and Requiem: Writings on the Great Hanshin Earthquake] were published (Art Aid Kobe 1995; Asahi Shuppansha 1995). Ro Jin-yon (born 1952) compiled his poems of requiem into Akai Tsuki [The Red Moon], published in July, and made readers realize that poems go deeper in the heart than quite deep despair (Ro 1995; Asahi Shimbun, March 9, 1996). Poems with social messages appeared one year after the quake. Gojunenme no senjo: Kobe [A Battlefield of the Fiftieth Year: Kobe] is a collection of poems by Yoko Kurumagi (born 1936) that reveals anxieties and discrimination among people in Kobe (Takeya 1996). A poet in Kobe, Masahisa Kimimoto (1928–1997), said he managed to begin writing poems only in the autumn of the year of the earthquake. He said that poets need to observe the disaster coldly and compress sorrow and anger into one’s heart before writing about the earthquake disaster, and poems should not be simply a record. A reporter of Asahi Shimbun wrote in March 1996 that a full-scale novel dealing with the earthquake disaster had not been written yet. A literary magazine in Osaka asked for submissions of novels dealing with the earthquake disaster, but there were no submissions. The chief editor said, “It is important to think over the theme deeply in your mind and then view it from an objective point of view. It takes time” (Asahi Shimbun, March 9, 1996). Jiro Uematsu (born 1947), a novelist in Kobe, found it still difficult to write a novel dealing with the earthquake one year after the disaster. “Novels are no match for works of non-fiction [in writing about the earthquake disaster], and I feel emotionally uncomfortable about writing the disaster,” he said, and this idea seemed to be shared by novelists who lived or came from the Hanshin-Awaji area (Nihon Keizai Shimbun, January 27, 1996). Masami Iwahashi (born 1959), also an author in Kobe, published Sora wo nakushita hi [The Day You Lost the Sky], which contains a short novel written in the

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autumn of 1995 that was said to be the first work of earthquake literature dealing with the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake. “It deals with the earthquake disaster not simply as a tragedy, but processed the event inside her mind and restructured it in a form of literature,” one of the judges said when Iwahashi won the Award for Female Novelists. After Iwahashi experienced the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake, she clearly realized how firmly she had been attached to writing novels. She had been writing on home and family, but after the quake she saw her themes more vividly and felt that she absolutely wanted to write. Koji Kibe (born 1931), a novelist, also said, “If it were not for the earthquake, I could not see the human mind so clearly as I can now” (Nihon Keizai Shimbun, October 13, 1996). This consciousness that an earthquake disaster makes writers see things clearly and gives them power to write is close to what Riichi Yokomitsu said after the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923. Three years after the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake, more writers began to sublimate their experience of the earthquake disaster into literary works. Kenji Kodama (born 1960) won an award for new mystery writers in 1997 with his mystery fiction Mimeino akumu [A Predawn Nightmare], which depicts a series of murders on the day of the earthquake and the adventures of a detective who tries to solve the case. After the quake, Kodama had abandoned writing because he felt novels meaningless, but a year later he started writing again. Writing was the only way to get on his feet (Nihon Keizai Shimbun, January 17, 1998). In the year 2000, five years after the earthquake, a collection of short stories by internationally known writer Haruki Murakami (born 1949) was published. Kami no kodomotachi wa mina odoru (the title of the English translation is After the Quake) contains six stories in which all the main characters are indirectly influenced by the earthquake in 1995. No one is really concerned about the damages of Kobe, but each of them experiences difficulty in living their own shaken lives (Murakami 2000). In an interview with a Yomiuri Shimbun staff writer, Murakami mentioned the earthquake: “A Common state of mind among people in the contemporary world is that they become unsure about whether the world they see is actually real. . . . I think the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake in January 1995 and the Aum sarin gas attack on the Tokyo subway system in March that year made many Japanese experience a sense of dissociation from reality before people of other countries. They asked themselves, ‘What we are here for?’” (Daily Yomiuri, June 23, 2009). From his international perspective, Murakami sees the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake as a trigger to make people feel at a loss. People realized that they are in the world segregated from reality. Here again, the earthquake is seen as a factor to enable people to see things clearly.

The Sanriku Coast Tsunami Earthquake (2011) and Literature The massive earthquake and deadly tsunami on March 11, 2011, together with the following nuclear accidents in Fukushima, were shocking enough to exercise a significant impact over tens of millions of people. Japanese writers were equally paralyzed and did not know what to do when they faced a reality too severe to accept. What

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should they do as writers in this national emergency? Can literature do anything useful? Isn’t it indiscreet to write fictions in this situation? One of their very first actions was to send books to people in tsunami-hit areas. Relief goods are mostly daily necessities and did not include books. Writers thought books would help griefstricken hearts to find some peace and ease (Saito 2011). The first works of literature to appear after the earthquake disaster in 2011 were poems again, including tanka, haiku, and prose poems. Earthquake poems appeared earlier than ever after the quake, thanks to the wide use of Twitter. A poet who lives in Fukushima, Ryoichi Wago (born 1968), started tweeting his own feeling five days after the earthquake, and his number of followers rapidly increased within a week. Wago tweeted, “I will fill the devastated Fukushima with words,” while he lived in a shelter away from home (Nihon Keizai Shimbun, March 25, 2011). His tweeted poems were compiled into a book titled Shi no tsubute [Gravel of Poems]. Wago said that he gradually called forth strength because email messages from readers of his poems immediately came after his tweets and opened his heart (Mainichi Shimbun, July 6, 2011). It seems difficult to write poems on nuclear accidents, but Jotaro Wakamatsu (born 1935) in Fukushima has produced outstanding works even since before the tsunami earthquake in 2011. The April 2011 issue of the poetry magazine Coalsack contains eighteen poems and essays on the earthquake and nuclear plant disaster, and among them is Wakamatsu’s essay “Genpatsu nanmin noto: Dasshutsu made” [A Note of a Refugee from the Nuclear Accident: Until I Escaped], in which he expresses anger at watching what he had been warning about become real. His alerts against nuclear plants had been expressed in poems since more than forty years before the nuclear disaster at Fukushima. These poems were compiled into a book, Fukushima genpatsu nanmin: Minamisoma-shi, ichi shijin no keikoku [A Refugee from the Nuclear Accident: Warnings by a Poet in Minamisoma Town], and published two months after the earthquake disaster and the nuclear accident (Wakamatsu 2011). Readers are astonished to find how accurate Wakamatsu’s predictions were on the danger of nuclear plants. Arthur Binard, himself a poet, translated Wakamatsu’s poems written both before and after the 2011 disaster in another collection of poems, Hito no Akashi. (The English translation is titled What Makes Us.) On Wakamatsu’s poem “Disappearances,” which gives a picture of the deserted city of Pripyat near the Chernobyl nuclear power plant, Binard comments: “Wakamatsu wrote those lines in 1994, after traveling to Chernobyl and meeting people who were living among the radiation. He studied the workings of nuclear plants and nuclear weapons, and observed what was occurring in both nature and society in Chernobyl. Wakamatsu knew that, when government hides the truth, a poet needs to listen to the environment. He was aware that, though pundits and pedants will lie, petals tell it like it is” (Binard 2012, 7). Wakamatsu learned from Chernobyl victims and predicted a future for Fukushima, where two nuclear power plants are located. His prediction sadly came true, but Wakamatsu tries to find something positive in this tragedy and says that we can

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see the disaster as “impetus to change” toward a nuclear-free future (Wakamatsu 2012, 135–137). Haiku poet Kai Hasegawa (born 1954) says that the tradition of creating poems by everybody from the emperor to common people, as was shown in Manyoshu [A Collection of a Myriad Leaves] in the eighth century, is still alive in today’s Japan. He started creating tanka on the day of the tsunami earthquake and published them in Shinsai kashu [A Collection of Poems on the Earthquake Disaster] as early as April (Nihon Keizai Shimbun, April 28, 2011). Many of the prize-winning tanka poems at national tanka contests in the year 2011 dealt with the earthquake and tsunami disaster (Mainichi Shimbun, August 22, 2011). Policemen who engaged in rescue work at the tsunami-hit areas expressed their feelings in tanka and senryu poems (Mainichi Shimbun, August 29, 2011). A priest of the shrine in Minami Sanriku town, which suffered catastrophic damage by the tsunami, writes tanka to express his feelings for the lost townscape and victims (Mainichi Shimbun, November 13, 2011). However, it is still tough for victims of the 2011 disaster to create tanka poems. A member of a tanka club in Tanohata, which was severely damaged after being hit by the massive tsunami, found it hard to create poems on the disaster, because she still felt pain in her chest whenever she was reminded of the day and could not help crying although ten months had passed since the earthquake and tsunami. “I sympathize with others’ tanka on the disaster, but as for me, what I can do is only to make notes of ideas,” she said (Mainichi Shimbun, January 21, 2012). Nevertheless, more and more people in the disaster-hit area create tanka and haiku and cheer their spirits up. Haiku poet Madoka Mayuzumi asked people in the disaster-hit area for submissions of haiku on her website. She published some of them in April 2012, and the English translation appeared in 2014 (Nihon Keizai Shimbun, November 28, 2011; Nihon Keizai Shimbun, December 2, 2011; Mayuzumi 2012, 2014). Novelists’ responses to the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake began to appear a few months after the quake. These early works tend to reflect writers’ unsteady condition and undigested thoughts on the disaster. Hiromi Kawakami (born 1958) rewrote her debut work written eighteen years earlier and placed the story in the world after the nuclear accident while keeping the plot unchanged (Kawakami 2011). The work itself tells that authors cannot write novels in the same condition as before the nuclear accident, because Japanese society is haunted by the enduring fear of nuclear contamination. Another novelist, Hideo Furukawa (born 1966), wrote “Umatachi yo, soredemo hikari wa mukude [translated into French in 2013 as Ô chevaux, la lumière est pourtant innocente],” which begins with the writer’s report from Fukushima and leads to the world of his previous novel, Seikazoku. A column in Nihon Keizai Shimbun says that it is possible to read “Umatachi yo” as a record of a writer from March 11 when he found himself unable to write until he finally started writing again (Nihon Keizai Shimbun, July 2, 2011). Jin Mayama (born 1962) added to his completed serial novel Koraputio [Corruption] and modified the contents to a large extent after March 11 and published it as a fictional story of a new administration that aims at economic reconstruction by exporting nuclear plants. Harutoshi Fukui

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(born 1968) wrote a novel that begins with the massive earthquake on March 11, 2011, and depicts a family in crisis, as Asami Iwahashi did after the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake (Nihon Keizai Shimbun, October 2, 2011). Banana Yoshimoto (born 1964) says her Suiito hiaafter [Sweet Hereafter] (translated into Chinese in 2013) is written “for all who experienced the earthquake disaster wherever they were and all who are living and dead,” despite the fact that an earthquake does not occur in this novel. Yoshimoto tried to write how the world is different from before, but at the same time she says that a novel is meaningless if it fails to give hope of living to readers (Asahi Shimbun, December 6, 2011). In response to people outside Japan who expressed a desire to read literary works that represented Japanese people’s views in ways unavailable in the news reports, a collection of literary works on the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake was published a year after the disaster. The book, titled March Was Made of Yarn, was translated and published in the United States, the United Kingdom, and France as well as in Japan (Asahi Shimbun, November 5, 2011; Luke and Karashima 2012b). It contains short novels, poems, works of nonfiction, and a manga. The editors, Luke and Karashima, say these works “reconceive the catastrophe, imagine a future and a past, interpret dreams, impel purpose, point blame, pray for hope,” and they “comprise an artistic record of this time” (Luke and Karashima 2012a, xviii). The full-scale literature on the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake is just beginning to appear. The disaster and damage have not come to an end yet. Debris still remains in the tsunami-hit areas, and there are people who are still looking for their missing family members. The problem of nuclear contamination is far from being solved, and this situation makes it difficult for people to simply rebuild the same lives they had before the disaster. For the time being, writers, together with all the people affected by the unprecedented disaster in this country, keep struggling to find a way to accept, understand, and digest what they experienced and saw on March 11, 2011, and after, and to express their findings and prayers for current and future generations as well as for themselves. The means of expression may not be confined to writing, as novelist Kenzaburo Oe throws himself into the anti–nuclear power movement. “I will participate in ‘The Rally to Say Good-bye to Nuclear Plants’ and store various new voices in my memory,” the Nobel Laureate in literature says (Oe 2011, 31).

Conclusion People in Japan have lived with earthquakes and tsunamis from time immemorial. This sometimes harsh environment cultivated Japanese people’s unique nature, which produced the concept of mujo, or uncertainty in the world, which was a central theme in Hojoki. Although this concept seems to be rather pessimistic, it helps a lot when people are at a loss after great shock brought by a disaster, and to keep being prepared for possible tragedies. Mujo is an important concept, but it is easily forgotten. Frequent minor earthquakes and occasional major earthquakes remind people of this. People in today’s society seldom use this word, but the concept itself

98  Yukiko Dejima

is deeply rooted in Japanese culture, and is seen from time to time in writings, such as lines written by Harutsugu Yamaura (born 1940), a physician and writer who translated the Bible into one of the local dialects in the Sanriku region: The history of Sanriku Coast is inseparable from tsunami. Approximately once in every forty years, massive tidal waves hit the region, and ten or twenty percent of the population is lost. People in this district meet major tsunami at least once or twice, or thrice at most, in the course of a lifetime. Our world has been like this from the very beginning. . . . Just as four seasons come regularly, so tsunami comes. The point is whether people are prepared or not. If you build a house in a dangerous zone, the house will be washed away, and if you fail to escape from tsunami, you will die. This is a cold fact and nothing more or less than that. (Yamaura 2011, 196–197) Tsunamis and earthquakes are nothing extraordinary, but rather they occur by necessity because of the movement in the interior of the earth. Lands and seas have been moving since primeval times and have not stopped moving yet. The concept of mujo makes us realize this fact, and it has a power to calm us. Forgetting disasters does comfort victims, but to keep talking and writing about the disasters also has the power to comfort those who are damaged. Writers have a mission to write about disasters for both salvation of people and disaster prevention. Poetry and works of nonfiction response can appear quickly after major earthquake disasters, but they seldom remain on the shelves of bookstores. Novels appear late, only after authors ponder over what has happened, but they tend to be more read over time, especially when the writer admirably overcomes the pain felt in the course of creation. Some writers of earthquake literature said that major earthquake disasters enable them to see things clearly. Earthquake disasters surely have the power to produce superb works of literature. And if the work has the power to move people even in ordinary times, it will be read continuously over time.

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102  Yukiko Dejima ———. 2011. “Shinsai go no ‘Goraku Shosetsu’” [“Entertainment Novels” After the Earthquake Disaster]. October 2, 19. ———. 2011. “Haiku wa Jinsei wo Shoka suru, part 1” [Haiku Sublimates Human Lives, Part 1]. November 28, evening ed., 9. ———. 2011. “Haiku wa Jinsei wo Shoka suru, part 5” [Haiku Sublimates Human Lives, Part 5]. December 2, evening ed., 11. ———. 2012. “Higashi Nihon Daishinsai 1-nen, Nihon bungaku kenkyusha Donarudo Kinsan” [One Year from the Great East Japan Earthquake, Interview with Donald Keene, the Scholar of Japanese Literature]. March 11, 8. Nomura, Junichi. 1999. “‘Echigo jishin kudoki’ no koto ” [On “Echigo jishin kudoki,” part 1]. Mukashi Banashi Densetsu Kenkyu 20:14–20. Oe, Kenzaburo. 2011. “Inori wa Muryoku datta daroka?” [Have Prayers Been Powerless?] Asahi Shimbun, July 20, 31. Ro Jin-yon. 1995. Akai tsuki [The Red Moon]. Tokyo: Gakken. Saito, Minako. 2011. “Hon ni dekiru koto” [What Books Can Do]. Asahi Shimbun, March 29, 21. Sasaki, Atsushi. 2011. “Shinsai kiroku wo koeru bungaku” [Literary Work That Transcended Records of Earthquake Disaster]. A review of Sanriku Kaigan Otsunami by Akira Yoshimura. Asahi Shimbun, May 15, 11. Seidensticker, Edward. (1983) 2010. “Low City, High City.” Reprinted in Tokyo from Edo to Showa: 1867–1989. Tokyo: Tuttle Publishing, 13–277. Suzuki, Takao. 1995. “Daishinsai wo yomeru ka” [Can Earthquake Disasters Be a Theme of Haiku?]. Haiku 44 (5): 104–111. Takamura, Kaoru. 2007. “Shinsai de nani wo mananda no ka” [What We Learned from the Earthquake Disaster]. Asahi Shimbun, February 19, Osaka local ed., 26. Takayama, Fumihiko. (2004) 2011. “Kaisetsu” [Interpretation]. In Sanriku Kaigan Otsunami, written by Akira Yoshimura. Tokyo: Bungei Shunju, 185–191. Takeya, Naomi. 1996. “Ashita e, shinsai karano shin bunmei no. 10” [For Tomorrow, New Civilization After the Earthquake Disaster No. 10].” Asahi Shimbun, March 2, evening ed., 13. Tanaka, Kotaro. (1924) 2011. “Kenbunroku” [Observations]. In Daishinsai no kiroku to bungaku [Records and Literature on Major Earthquake Disasters], edited by Shimura Kunihiro, 131–188. Tokyo: Bensei Shuppan. Terada, Torahiko. (1934) 2011. “Tensai to kokubo” [Natural Calamities and National Defense].” In Tensai to Nihonjin, written by Torahiko Terada and edited by Tesuo Yamaori, 8–22. Tokyo: Kadokawa Gakugei Shuppan. Tokizane, Shinko. 1995. “Kono kushu wo yonde kudasaru kata e” [For Those Who Kindly Read This Compilation of Poems]. In Senryu-shu: Waga daishinsai, hiku wo koete [A Compilation of Senryu: Our Great Earthquake, Going Beyond Sorrow], selected by Shinko Tokizane and edited by Rokuro Soga, 4–5. Tokyo: Daiwa Shobo. Tsumura, Setsuko. 2012. “Waga Tanohata-mura” [My Tanohata Village]. Nihon Keizai Shimbun, March 18, 32. Uranishi, Kazuhiko. 1989. “Kanto Daishinsai to bungaku” [The Great Kanto Earthquake and Literature]. Kokubungaku 34 (4): 94–100. Wakamatsu, Jotaro. 2011. Fukushima genpatsu nanmin: Minamisoma-shi, ichi shijin no keikoku [A Refugee from the Nuclear Accident in Fukushima: Warnings by a Poet in Minamisoma Town]. Tokyo: Coalsack. ———. 2012. “Afterword.” In What Makes Us, poems by Jotaro Wakamatsu, translated by Arthur Binard, 135–137. Tokyo: Seiryu Publishing.

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4

Tsunami Flow and Geo-Environment of the Pacific Coastal Region of Tohoku Masatomo Umitsu A giant earthquake occurred on March 11, 2011, in the northeastern Pacific Ocean off the Tohoku region of Japan, and caused the 2011 Sanriku tsunami. The magnitude of the earthquake was 9.0, and the epicenter was located at N38°06.2' E142°51.6' at a depth of about twenty-four kilometers. The huge tsunami generated by the earthquake hit the Pacific coast of Japan from Hokkaido to Okinawa, and caused great damage along Japanese coastal regions. Especially the coasts of the Tohoku region, including Aomori, Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima Prefectures in the northeastern part of Honshu Island were severely damaged by the tsunami (see photos 4.1 and 4.2). In this chapter, the author explains the geo-environment of tsunami-hit areas and past tsunamis on the northeastern Pacific coast of Japan, and makes clear the characteristics of the 2011 Japan tsunami flow on the coastal lowlands of the region.

Coastal Landforms Generally, landforms of the Japanese coast are classified into rocky coasts and sandy coasts with coastal plains. The rocky coasts consist of sea cliffs, rocky shores, and small beaches located in the innermost parts of small bays. In the places where small alluvial plains develop in the innermost part of the bay, local cities, towns, and villages are located on the lowlands. People in the areas are mainly involved in fisheries or fish processing industries. Such rocky coasts are well developed along the Pacific coast of the northeastern region of the Japanese main island, especially Iwate and the northern part of Miyagi Prefectures. The region is called the Sanriku Coast in the Tohoku region (see figures 4.1 and 4.2). Several cities and towns, such as Miyako, Kamaishi, Ofunato, Rikuzentakata, Kesennuma, are located in the coastal region. On the other hand, broad, sandy, coastal plains develop south of the Sanriku Coast, in the central and southern parts of Miyagi Prefecture. Landforms of the area are characterized by beach ridges and the riverine flood plain behind them (see figure 4.3). The Sendai and Ishinomaki Plains are relatively large coastal plains in the region. The Sendai Plain is approximately forty kilometers long from north to south, and its width is approximately seven to eight kilometers in its northern part and about nine kilometers in the central part. Its width gradually grows more 104  

Photo 4.1. Destroyed buildings at the coastal area of Ishinomaki City. (Photograph by M. Umitsu)

Photo 4.2. Washed-out buildings and debris up to the innermost part of the lowland in Onagawa, Miyagi Prefecture. (Photograph by M. Umitsu)

106  Masatomo Umitsu

TOHOKU REGION

0

25

0

25

50 miles 50 kilometers

Prefectural Capital Major City Prefecture Boundary Aomori

AOMORI

Misawa

AOMORI

Hirosaki

Prefecture Name

IWATE

Ogata

Morioka

Miyako

Akita Kamaishi

PACIFIC OCEAN

Sakata

MIYAGI Sendai

Ishinomaki

TRENCH

Kesennuma

Yamagata

EPICENTER

Sado

Fukushima

FUKUSHIMA

JAPAN

(2011 Earthquake)

Niigata

Figure 4.1. Tohoku region.

narrow toward the south, and it is less than three to four kilometers in the area of Yamamoto town in the south. Rows of slightly discontinuous beach ridges are located in the inner part of the plain. The outer beach ridge in the Sendai Plain located along the current shoreline is wider than the other ridges, and it is unbroken. The width of the coastal beach ridge is about one kilometer at maximum, and its height is more than three meters. As a whole, elevation of the Sendai Plain is generally less than four meters, and the

Tsunami Flow and Geo-Environment of the Pacific Coastal Region of Tohoku   107  

i

kam

Kita

Kitakami

se ru Na

Ishinomaki Plain

Ishinomaki

Onagawa

Higashimatsushima

Oshika

Nan

akita

Peninsula

Miyato Island

Kinkasan Island

Sendai

Natori Yuriage

ma

Sendai Bay

Abuk

u

Sendai Plain

0 Yamamoto Town

10

5 0

miles 5

10

kilometers

Figure 4.2. Sanriku Coast/Sendai Plain.

area lower than two to three meters is widely distributed in the lowland. Particularly, lowlands with heights of about one to two meters can be seen in the area between the Natori and the Nanakita Rivers. A similar low area has also developed around the area near the lowermost part of the Abukuma River. Floodplain and relatively distinct natural levees have developed along the Nanakita, the Natori, and the Abukuma Rivers in the Sendai Plain (Matsumoto 1984). The Ishinomaki Plain develops north of the Sendai Plain and extends toward the east and west. The width of the plain is about fifteen kilometers, and its depth is about two to five kilometers. The plain develops in the lowest reaches of the former Kitakami River, and the main part is a coastal plain with rows of beach ridges. The ground elevation of the plain is generally less than five meters. A Pleistocene upland named Hiyoriyama is located in the eastern part of the plain. The former Kitakami River flows through the east side of the Hiyoriyama and into the Gulf of Sendai. Beach ridges of the plain extend parallel with the coastline. They are grouped into

Beach ridges Natural levee Flood basin Former river channel

0

5 kilometers

Figure 4.3. Landform Classification in the Sendai Plain.

10

Tsunami Flow and Geo-Environment of the Pacific Coastal Region of Tohoku   109  

I, I', II, III by Matsumoto (1984). The third beach ridge (III) develops well along the present coastline, and the second and older beach ridges (I, I', II) develop conspicuously in the central part of plains.

Former Tsunamis in Sanriku Region The Sanriku Region was repeatedly hit by tsunamis. In recent times, strong tsunamis hit the region and caused severe damages. The tsunamis are the Meiji Sanriku tsunami in 1896 and the Showa Sanriku tsunami in 1933. The Meiji Sanriku tsunami occurred on June 15, 1896, generated by an earthquake off the Pacific coast of Kamaishi. The magnitude of the earthquake was 8.2–8.5, and the maximum height of the tsunami was recorded as 38.2 meters at the innermost part of Ryori Bay in Iwate Prefecture near Miyako, and most of the coastal lowlands in Sanriku Region were inundated to a depth of five to twenty meters. The number of victims in Aomori, Iwate, and Miyagi Prefectures in Tohoku region was 21,753, and more than 10,368 buildings were washed away and destroyed (Watanabe 1998). Tsunami heights on the Sanriku Coast are shown in figure 4.4 (Headquarters for Earthquake Research Promotion 2009). On March 3, 1933, a strong earthquake struck northern Japan. The epicenter of the earthquake was located in the western Pacific Ocean about two hundred kilometers from Kamaishi. The magnitude of the earthquake was 8.4, but the damage by the earthquake itself was not so serious. However, the tsunami generated by the earthquake caused serious damages in the Tohoku region along the Pacific coast of northern Japan. The height of the tsunami was five to ten meters in most parts of the region. The number of casualties (including the missing) by the tsunami were thirty in Aomori, 2,713 in Iwate, and 308 in Miyagi (Watanabe 1998). Forty-two percent of the population was killed and 98 percent of the buildings totally destroyed in Taro, Iwate Prefecture. After this disaster, a huge and strong embankment with a length of about 2,433 meters was constructed in Taro. The first embankment, of 1,350 meters, was completed in 1958, and it was extended to 2,433 meters in 1966. On May 23, 1960, the Chile earthquake tsunami hit the Pacific coast of Japan and caused severe damages in the Sanriku Coast again. The embankment in Taro was effective against this tsunami and the town was saved. Throughout history, many tsunamis have hit the Sanriku Region. The Jogan tsunami on July 7, 869, was one of the largest. It was generated by the Jogan earthquake and caused severe damages to the Pacific coast of northeastern Japan, especially the Sanriku Region. The magnitude of the earthquake was estimated as 8.4 (Namegaya et al. 2010). Several written records about the tsunami are available. Recently, inundation of the Jogan tsunami was reconstructed by researching tsunami deposits (Sawai et al. 2007). This reconstruction clarified that the invasion of the tsunami into the Sendai and Ishinomaki Plains was almost the same as that of the 2011 Japan tsunami (Sawai et al. 2012).

Meiji Sanriku Tsunami

Showa Sanriku Tsunami

Figure 4.4. Tsunami Heights in the Sanriku Coast.

Tsunami Flow and Geo-Environment of the Pacific Coastal Region of Tohoku   111  

2011 Japan Tsunami The height of the 2011 Japan tsunami on the Pacific coast of the Tohoku region was mostly five to ten meters, and twenty to thirty meters in some parts of the Sanriku Coast. This was especially so as the tsunami climbed up toward the higher portion of small inlets or slopes facing the ocean. The highest run-up tsunamis reached 40.5 meters at Omoe Aneyoshi, Miyako city, and 43.3 meters at Kasakai Island, Onagawa town, Miyagi (Haraguchi and Iwamatsu 2013). Based on the field survey and analysis with aerial photos taken just after the disaster, the inundation limit of the tsunami was clarified by Geospatial Information Authority of Japan (GSI) and Tsunami Damage Mapping Group of the Association of Japanese Geographers. The tsunami inundation map made by this group is shown on their website, http://danso. env.nagoya-u.ac.jp/20110311/map/index_e.html. In the case of the Sanriku Coast, most of the small coastal lowlands were inundated by more than ten meters of seawater. Miyako, Yamada, Otsuchi, Kamaishi, Ofunato, Rikuzentakata, and some other cities and towns are located on the small alluvial plains, and the damage to the areas was serious. In the southern part of the Sanriku Coastal Region, several cities and towns, such as Kesennuma and Onagawa in Miyagi Prefecture, were also severely damaged by the tsunami. The depth of the tsunami near the coast was more than ten meters, and most buildings were swept away by the flow. In Kesennuma, a large fishing boat weighing about 330 tons was washed ashore by the tsunami and settled about six hundred meters inland. Some buildings in the coastal lowland of Onagawa town were turned over due to

Photo 4.3. Destroyed outer embankment at Taro, Iwate Prefecture. (Photograph by M. Umitsu)

112  Masatomo Umitsu

the liquefaction and buoyancy of the deep tsunami inundation. Some railroad cars at Onagawa railway station were swept by the strong tsunami flow and deposited inland. The tsunami height in the lowland was about fifteen to twenty meters, and it did not decrease even well inland. Coastal embankments in the region were also severely damaged by the hit of the tsunami. Among them, the largest and strongest anti-tsunami embankment in Taro was destroyed. The embankment was constructed doubly, and it was thought that it could resist severe tsunamis. The embankment, however, was not strong enough to resist the 2011 Japan tsunami, and some parts were damaged severely. (See photos 4.3–4.6.)

Photo 4.4. Drifted fishing boat at Kesennuma, Miyagi Prefecture. (Photograph by M. Umitsu)

Photo 4.5. Turned-over building at Onagawa, Miyagi Prefecture. (Photograph by M. Umitsu)

Tsunami Flow and Geo-Environment of the Pacific Coastal Region of Tohoku   113  

Photo 4.6. Crashed and drifted railroad cars near Onagawa Station, Miyagi Prefecture. (Photograph by M. Umitsu)

Tsunami Flow on the Sendai and Ishinomaki Plains In the Sendai and Ishinomaki Plains, tsunami flow invaded and extended about four to five kilometers from the coast. Inundation heights in the plains were seven to eight meters near the coast and three to four meters in the inland. Run-up tsunamis in the plains generally flew toward the inland at a right angle to the shoreline. Radial spread and concentration of the flows were seen in several places. In the case of the Indian Ocean tsunami, direction of run-up tsunami flow on the lowlands of Thailand and Indonesia were measured based on the direction of fallen electric poles, fences, and columns of fallen houses. Remnants of tsunami backwash flow (return flow) also left the fallen herbaceous plants on the ground. They are good markers of the backwash flow on a plain (Umitsu et al. 2007). There are similar traces of the 2011 Japan tsunami flow on the ground of the Sendai and Ishinomaki Plains, and some of them are easily recognized on the aerial photos taken just after the disaster by GSI. They are (1) accumulation of wreckage, (2) fallen electric poles and fallen trees, (3) scratched trace on the ground, and (4) depositional trace of the sediment. Of these, the wreckage is a deposition of accumulation of debris, such as destroyed building fragments and others. The wreckages were carried by the tsunami flow and settled at the depositional front. The direction of fallen telephone poles and the trees are effective markers of the tsunami flow. Traces of the flow are also recognized on the aerial photos as linear scratch marks on the sediments. They are mainly considered to be traces of run-up tsunami flow toward

114  Masatomo Umitsu

the inland. On the other hand, the deposition of straws in the corner of each rice field is a very good marker of the backwash tsunami flow, and it is clearly recognized on the aerial photos (see figure 4.5). Based on these traces of run-up and backwash

Nanakita R.

Natori R.

Sendai Bay

Abakuma R. Runup tsunami flow Backwash tsunami flow Railroad Area of tsunami inundation 0

5 kilometers

Figure 4.5. Sendai Plain Run-Up Tsunami Flow and Backwash Flow.

10

Tsunami Flow and Geo-Environment of the Pacific Coastal Region of Tohoku   115  

Hiyoriyama Upland

Ishinomaki Port

Paper Mill

0

300

600

meters

Figure 4.6. Ishinomaki Port Tsunami Run-Up Flow.

flows, tsunami flows on the Sendai Plain and Ishinomaki Plain were reconstructed and examined in relation to the landforms, ground elevation, land use, and distribution of the buildings (Umitsu 2011 and 2013). In the coastal area of Ishinomaki city, run-up tsunami flow turned its course due to the disturbance created by large factory buildings and warehouses (see figure 4.6). Some of the tsunami flows detoured and proceeded along roads extending in directions perpendicular to the coastline.

Photo 4.7. Submerged paddy fields at Higashi Matsushima, near Ishinomaki, Miyagi Prefecture. (Photograph by M. Umitsu).

116  Masatomo Umitsu

Figure 4.7. Sendai Airport Area Run-Up Tsunami Flow and Backwash Tsunami Flow.

On the other hand, backwash flow shows different characteristics in different areas. In the southern part of the Sendai Plain, backwash tsunami flow returned to the coast directly, in an orthogonal direction to the coastline. However, the flow in the central and northern parts of the plain generally returned to the coast in various directions (see figure 4.7). In these regions, the backwash flow tends to follow the direction toward the lower areas. Ground elevation of the lower parts is one to two meters, and the area connects to the lagoonal marshy area behind the coastal barrier. In the area of the central Ishinomaki Plain, tsunami inundation height suddenly dropped from 7–8 meters to just 3–4 meters after crossing a coastal beach ridge (see figure 4.8). The height of the tsunami, however, did not decrease in the area of the paddy fields to the limit of inundation, where ground elevation is approximately three meters (Ishiguro et al. 2011). The ground surface of the broad paddy field area was smooth and there was a little disturbance of tsunami intrusion to the inland.

Tsunami Flow and Geo-Environment of the Pacific Coastal Region of Tohoku   117  

Figure 4.8. Ground Elevation and Water Level in the Central Ishinomaki Plain (Measured by Umitsu and Hori).

Coastal Change Tectonic movement also occurred in relation to the earthquake. The earthquake occurred in the subduction zone between the Pacific Ocean plate and the North American plate where the Tohoku region is located. Horizontal and vertical tectonic movement was seen in the Tohoku region, and the region displaced to the east. Furthermore, several areas in the region of the Tohoku Pacific coast submerged by up to 1.2 meters due to the vertical tectonic movement. In some places, land that had formerly been part of the Ishinomaki and Sendai Plains changed their environment, taking on water or marshy conditions. The coastal area of Higashi Matsushima City in the western part of the Ishinomaki Plain submerged fifteen centimeters (http:// mekira.gsi.go.jp/bousai/zishin_touhoku/zishin_touhoku_07.html). There were broad paddy fields in the coastal lowland that submerged and changed to a shallow marine condition after the earthquake. Similar changes were seen in some parts of the coastal zone in the Sendai Plain. Coastal facilities such as embankments or water gates were destroyed by the earthquake. Furthermore, the ground level of the places became lower than before and became susceptible to flooding during high tide. Subsidence of the ground and the destruction of coastal embankments and water gates occurred in many places in the coastal region of the Sanriku Coast, and many places became weak against coastal disasters during high tide. Distinct wedge-shaped coastal erosion occurred in the southern part of the Sendai Plain (see figure 4.9). Most of these wedges were caused by the direct attack of the tsunami, but some of them were considered to have been caused by the erosion of backwash flow. In the case of the Indian Ocean tsunami in 2004, similar wedge-

Figure 4.9. Yamamoto Town Coastline (Southern Sendai Plain) after Tsunami.

Tsunami Flow and Geo-Environment of the Pacific Coastal Region of Tohoku   119  

shaped erosion was seen in Thailand’s Nam Kem coastal plain, and it was caused by the concentration of backwash flow from the inland (Umitsu et al. 2007). On the other hand, such a wedge-shaped erosion was not seen in the central and northern Sendai Plain. In the case of the coastal plain of Banda Aceh, Indonesia, there were no wedge-shaped erosion patterns. This is because the lowland of the Banda Aceh coastal plain is very low and flat, and thus the backwash flow of the tsunami returned to the sea as a sheet flood and did not concentrate and form any wedge-shaped inlets. Similar to this condition, the difference of the ground elevation in the Sendai Plain caused the wedge-shaped erosion there. In the southern Sendai Plain, ground elevation is higher than that of the middle and central Sendai Plain, and the backwash tsunami flow could easy concentrate in the lower part of the plain. That concentrated flow caused the erosion and formed the wedge-shaped inlets in the southern part of the Sendai Plain.

Concluding Remarks •  The 2011 Japan tsunami hit the northeastern Japanese Pacific coast. Sanriku Coast is characterized as a rocky coast with small alluvial lowland and severely suffered from the huge tsunami inundation. Many cities and towns in the region, such as Miyako, Kamaishi, Kesennuma, Onagawa, were severely damaged by the tsunami. Depths of the tsunami in the lowlands were more than ten meters, and most wooden buildings were destroyed and swept away by the strong tsunami flow. •  Sandy coastal plains such as the Sendai and Ishinomaki Plains were also severely damaged by the tsunami and were widely covered with tsunami inundation. Run-up tsunami flows generally indicate their direction as being perpendicular to the coastline. In some parts of the Sendai and Ishinomaki Plains, run-up tsunami flows were disturbed and changed due to the local condition near the coast, especially the distribution of buildings and roads. •  Directions of backwash flow in the Sendai and Ishinomaki Plains were controlled by the ground elevation. Most of the backwash flows tended to flow toward the lower places. •  Tectonic subsidence occurred in some places along the Tohoku Pacific coast, and many places became more vulnerable to coastal disasters. •  Wedge-shaped erosion occurred along the small streams in the southern Sendai Plain. Due to the fact that the ground elevation of the region is relatively higher than that of the central and northern plain, backwash flow could easily concentrate and erode the lower parts.

References Haraguchi, T., and A. Iwamatsu. 2013. Higashinihon daishinsai tsunami shosai chizu [Detailed Maps of the Impacts of the 2011 Japan Tsunami]. Tokyo: Kokon Shoin. Headquarters for Earthquake Research Promotion. 2009. Nihon no Jishin Katudou-Daiz han [Seismic Activity in Japan], 2nd ed. Tokyo: Association for the Development of Earthquake Protection.

120  Masatomo Umitsu Ishiguro, S., K. Hori, M. Umitsu, N. Matsuta, N. Sugito, T. Miyagi, and K. Tamura. 2011. “Higashinihon Taiheiyooki Jishin ni tomonau Sanrikukaigan nanbu kara Sendaiheiya no Tsunami no shinsuiiki, shinsuidaka, sojodaka” [Tsunami Inundation, Inundation Height, and Run-up Elevation Between Southern Part of the Sanriku and the Sendai Plain]. In Nohon Chikyu Wakusei Kagaku Rengou Yokoushu, 2011 [Proceedings of Japan Geo Science Union Meeting 2011]. Makuhari, Chiba. Poster presentation. Matsumoto, H. 1984. “Sendaiheiya no chuusekiso to kohyouki ni okeru kaigansen no henka” [Beach Ridge Ranges on Holocene Coastal Plains in Northeast Japan—The Formative Factors and Periods]. Cirigakuhyoron [Geographical Review of Japan] 57 (ser. A): 720–738. Namegaya, Y., K. Satake, and S. Yamaki. 2010. “Miyagiken Ishinomaki, Sendaiheiya oyobi Fukushimaken, Ukedogawa kakoteichi ni okeru 869 nen Jogan tsunami no suchi shimyureishon” [Numerical Simulation of the AD 869 Jogan Tsunami in Ishinomaki and Sendai Plains and Ukedo River-Mouth Lowland]. Katsudanso, Kojishin Kenkyu Hokoku [Active Fault and Paleo-Earthquake Studies] 10:1–21. Sawai, Y., Y. Namegaya, Y. Okamura, K. Satake, and M. Shishikura. 2012. “Challenges of Anticipating the 2011 Tohoku Earthquake and Tsunami Using Coastal Geology.” Geophysical Research Letters 39:21. (In Japanese.) Sawai, Y., M. Shishikura, Y. Okamura, K. Takada, T. Matsuura, T. T. Aung, J. Komatsubara, Y. Fujii, O. Fujiwara, K. Satake, T. Kamataki, and N. Sato. 2007. “Handhi jiosuraisa wo mochiita Miyagiken Sendaiheiya (Sendaishi, Natorishi, Iwanumacho, Wataricho, Yamamotocho) niokeru kotsunamikonnseki chousa” [Study on Paleotsunami Using Handy Geoslicer in Sendai Plain (Sendai, Natori, Iwanuma, Watari, Yamamoto), Miyagi, Japan]. Katsudansou, Kojishin Kenkyuu Houkoku [Active Fault and Paleo-Earthquake Studies] 7:47–80. Tsunami Damage Mapping Group of the Association of Japanese Geographers. 2011. Maps of the Area Hit by the Tsunami of 11 March 2011, Northeast Japan. http://danso.env.nagoya-u. ac.jp/20110311/map/index_e.html. Umitsu, M. 2011. “Sendai Ishinomaki Heiyaniokeru Tsunami no ryudo” [Tsunami Flow on the Sendai and Ishinomaki Coastal Plains]. Chiri 56 (6): 64–71. ———. 2013. “Chusekiteichi no Chikeikankyogaku” [Landforms and Tsunami Flow Behavior in a Coastal Lowland]. In Geo-Environment of Alluvial and Coastal Lowlands, ed. M. Umitsu, 138–145. Tokyo: Kokon Shoin. Umitsu, M., et al. 2007. “Effect of Landforms on Tsunami Flow in the Plains of Banda Aceh, Indonesia, and Nam Khem, Thailand.” Marine Geology 242 (1): 141–153. Watanabe, H. 1998. Nihon higai tsunami soran [Comprehensive List of Tsunamis to Hit the Japanese Islands], 2nd ed. Tokyo: Tokyo Univ. Press.

5

Tsunami Damage and the Road to Recovery in Onagawa Town Takehiko Takano Onagawa is one of the places most severely damaged by the mega-quake and tsunami on March 11, 2011. In this chapter, the author will report the damages from the tsunami, Onagawa’s economic activities before March 11, and the restoration programs of infrastructure and industries. And finally, some ideas on the difficulties and breakthroughs needed to accomplish the programs will be discussed. Onagawa’s population in 2010 was 10,051. It is located in the southern part of the Sanriku Coast (see figure 5.1). Onagawa lies on the saw-shaped ria coastal line. Because of its morphology, the flat land is very limited and most of the settlements, including the town center and main port, are located on the bottom of the narrow bay. The bay faces the Japan Deep, which has been the hypocenter area of big earthquakes, and it has suffered tsunami disasters several times in the past. But the damage from the March 11, 2011, tsunami was far bigger. Onagawa’s people had never experienced such a disaster in the modern period. Even in the Meiji Sanriku tsunami in 1896, when about twenty-two thousand people died, Onagawa’s damage was small. But this time, aerial photographs taken on the day after the tsunami revealed Onagawa’s severe damage, where almost the entire built-up area in the central part of the town was destroyed and flooded away by the huge tsunami, which rose seventeen to twenty-three meters above sea level. The town lost 541 people (about 5.4 percent of its population), and nearly forty-three hundred houses and buildings were destroyed. The number of refugees reached 5,720, or almost all of the town’s survivors. Infrastructures for both people’s lives and local industries were also severely destroyed; even the concrete buildings fell down in some places. The railway and its station were perfectly removed, and the port area subsided up to 1 meter in places. Not only the central part of the town, but also many of the fishery villages were severely destroyed. There, however, the number of lost persons was relatively limited (see figure 5.2), even though they were located near the shore. One of the reasons for this is that the narrow flatlands allowed people to easily reach the high places just near shore before the tsunami arrived. 121  

Figure 5.1. Onagawa Town.

Tsunami Damage and the Road to Recovery in Onagawa Town   123  

Figure 5.2. Distribution of Lost Persons in Onagawa.

Regional Economy of Onagawa Town Before March 11, 2011 Port of Onagawa Onagawa was one of the major fishing ports in Japan. It ranked among the top ten ports every year in terms of the unloaded amount of fishery catches. Because of extremely narrow flatlands and the lack of adequate sites for agriculture or big industry, Onagawa’s people had no way to support themselves other than the exploitation of coastal fishing resources. After the period of Japan’s modernization around the 1910s and 1920s, the port of Onagawa developed as a base for the offshore fishery, including bonito fishing. In 1950, Japan’s biggest fishery company constructed a whale fishery base and processing factory there. During Japan’s rapid economic growth in the 1960s and the first half of the 1970s, Onagawa developed as the base port for deep ocean fishery, and in the 1980s Onagawa’s fishery sales rapidly increased, owing to the rich resources offshore (see figure 5.3). Processing industries for the rich marine products were another important

124  Takehiko Takano

Figure 5.3. Fishery Related Facilities Around Onagawa Port.

industry in Onagawa’s port area. Famous kamaboko processing and distributing industries using the rich marine creatures were developed in Onagawa’s port area. Fortunately, one of the biggest kamaboko makers, located opposite the Pacific Ocean in the town, escaped the tsunami. Before the March 11 tsunami, many facilities were gathered in the port area to support the fishery activities. The retail center shown in figure 5.3 was named the Marinpal Onagawa. The event using the fresh marine products was held every month after its opening in 1994. It was a symbolic exchange place in the town, and one of the most popular visiting spots for tourist in the Sanriku Coast. Its buildings were entirely destroyed by the huge tsunami.

Aquaculture Aquaculture was the most thriving industry in the town. In Onagawa, wakame seaweed cultivation was introduced first in 1915. In 1953, a more efficient method was found in Onagawa, which was later introduced throughout the Sanriku Coast and boosted its wakame cultivation. After the 1970s, the main product of aquaculture in Onagawa changed to silver salmon, scallops, oysters, and ascidians. Among them, silver salmon raising was the most important earner (see figure 5.4) before the tsunami. It was first introduced from North America in the 1970s, and

Tsunami Damage and the Road to Recovery in Onagawa Town   125  

Yen (billions)

6

4

Silver Salmon

2 Oyster Scallop

0 1991

Ascidian

1994

1997

2000 Year

2003

2006

Figure 5.4. Main Aquaculture Products in Onagawa, 1991–2006.

rapidly expanded because of its high price after the enclosure of the fishery grounds in the north Pacific. In the 1990s, salmon raising sharply declined owing to the price drop caused by the increase of imports from Chile. But more efficient and profitable methods were developed after that, which again boosted Onagawa to being the top producer of silver salmon in Japan.

Nuclear Power Station Onagawa is well known for the nuclear power station located south of Koyatori village (see figure 5.2), on the southern edge of the town. The station is owned and operated by Tohoku Electric Power Company and has three nuclear reactors, all of which escaped damage from the tsunami. The nuclear reactors were located over fifteen meters above sea level. About one thousand persons worked at the station in 2010. Owing to the nuclear power station, Onagawa had received significant amounts of fixed property tax from Tohoku Electric Power Company and governmental subsidies since 1984, when the No. 1 reactor started operation. The town’s tax revenues leaped after the No. 2 and No. 3 reactors started operation in 1995 and 2002, respectively. Ample funds allowed the town to construct facilities for public services, such as a sports park, a museum, a retail center, a municipal hospital, and a public rest house with a hot spring. Among these, the sports park and the municipal hospital,

126  Takehiko Takano

located on the coastal terrace, were utilized as rescue centers and main shelter sites for victims of the disaster.

Status of Local Economy and Population Change In spite of the rich revenue from the nuclear power plants, Onagawa’s local economy had stagnated, and its population rapidly declined after the 1990s, which was the case with other cities and towns in the Sanriku Coast as well. One major factor for the stagnant economy and continuing decline of the fishery industry after the 1990s, as shown in figure 5.5, was the shrinkage of the deep sea bonito and tuna fisheries and of the reduction of migrating resources, including sardines, mackerels, and sauries, in the offshore sea. As a result, the number of fishery workers had rapidly decreased since the latter half of the 1970s, mainly in the offshore fishery (see table 5.1). There has been a drastic change in the fishery workers’ age structure, as shown in figure 5.6, as the number of younger workers (mainly employed by the offshore and deep sea fishery boat owners) declined. Such a change in the fishery is one of the main factors for Onagawa’s changing population structure, as shown in figure 5.7. The shift to the “aging society with few children” appeared especially after the 1990s. The shrinking population resulted in reductions in other industries, as is shown in figure 5.8. After all, like other communities in the Sanriku Coast, Onagawa faced the hard tasks of an aging society and a shrinking local economy before the disaster

Others

Yen (billions)

15

Krill Squid

10

Salmon

Sand Lance

Mackerel Saury

5

Tuna Bonita

0 1960 ’65

Sardine

’70

’75

’80

’85 ’90 Year

Figure 5.5. Change in Fishery Catch in Onagawa, 1960–2010.

’95 2000 ’05

’10

Table 5.1. Fishery Workers in Onagawa

selfemployed

inshore fishery

offshore fishery*

Total

1978

786

847

888

1,735

1988

841

905

517

1,422

1998

581

607

173

780

2003

499

536

118

654

2008

456

618

—

618

* including far-sea fishery -- : not surveyed in 2008 Source: Fishery census.

200

Female

Male

1978

150

100

50

Age Group 75+ 70-74 65-69 60-64 55-59 50-54 45-49 40-44 35-39 30-34 25-29 20-24 15-19

0

2008

50

50

Population of fishery workers (in thousands)

0

50

Population of fishery workers (in thousands)

Figure 5.6. Change in Population Structure of Fishery Workers in Onagawa, 1978 and 2008.

5

Households

4 Aged Population

3

10 2

Population

5 0

1 1960 65

70

75

80 85 Year

90

95 2000 05

Figure 5.7. Population and Households in Onagawa, 1960–2010.

10

0

(thousands)

15

Households

(thousands)

Population

20

1200

20

1000 800

15

600 10

400

5 0

Workers

25

(thousands)

Sales

(billion yen)

128  Takehiko Takano

200 1982 85

88

91

94

97

Retail Workers Wholesale Workers

99 2002 04

07

0

Retail Sales Wholesale Sales

Figure 5.8. Change in Commercial Trade in Onagawa, 1982–2007.

happened on March 11, 2011. It means the scheme to be made for recovery of the town should contain a plan not only for the rebuilding of Onagawa, but also for its redevelopment.

Road to Recovery and Redevelopment Projects for Recovery and Redevelopment In Onagawa, the first meeting of the redevelopment committee was held on May 1, 2011, an interim report was published on May 8, some public hearings were held in each community in the town, and the recovery and redevelopment plan was finally published on July 9, about four months after the catastrophe. The plan consists of three main themes: disaster prevention, industrial redevelopment, and living environment restoration, each of which involves various required projects, as shown in table 5.2. The plan calls for all of the projects to be accomplished in eight years. Those eight years are divided into three periods: two years for “preparation for redevelopment,” three years for “restoration of infrastructure,” and another three years for “entire recovery and redevelopment.”

Renewal Plan for the Fishing Villages There are fifteen fishing villages surrounding Onagawa, with the number of registered households in each ranging from seven to 103 as of February 2011. Most of them suffered significant damage from the 2011 tsunami, as shown in figure 5.2. Even in Kirigasaki and Enoshima, where no lives were lost, houses, infrastructure, and port facilities were severely damaged. Most of the houses in the villages were

Tsunami Damage and the Road to Recovery in Onagawa Town   129   Table 5.2. Projects for Recovery and Redevelopment in Onagawa > Creation of safe and secure port town 1 rehabilitation of infrastructure in port area 2 remaking for evacuation plan from the tsunami 3 centralization of the facilities for disaster prevention 4 enhancing the function of the public facilities as shelters 5 remaking the roads' network for preventing the disasters 6 creating the self-helping energy system 7 promoting the community power against the disasters 8 preservation for the relicts of the tunami 9 remaking the regional plan for disaster prevention > Regeneration and redevelopment of the port town industries 1 first-aid rehabilitation and early restart of the fishery 2 redevelopment for the port function and the fishery 3 rehabilitation for the commercial and manufacturing industries 4 creation for new employment 5 rehabilitation and creation for tourism 6 creation of the research center for marine science and technologies > Creation of high quality of life 1 urgent construction for the temporary housing 2 creation for the safe residential area in the town center 3 creation for the safe residential area for the villages 4 provision for permanent housing 5 restart and maintainance for public transportation 6 promoting health and lifetime sports 7 restoration of historic sites and traditional cultures 8 promoting the healthy town both mentally and physically Source: http://www.town.onagawa.miyagi.jp/hukkou/iinkai_04.html (September 2011) Source: http://www.town.onagawa.miyagi.jp/hukkou/iinkai_04.html (September 11, 11, 2011).

concentrated near the shore and were swept away by the tsunami. The redevelopment plan for the villages calls for their relocation on higher ground close to the original site.

Renewal Plan for the Central Area of the Town The central area’s renewal plan is shown in figure 5.9. The key concepts can be summarized in the following four points: i. ground level in the flooded area is to be artificially raised,

130  Takehiko Takano Flooded area--ground level to be artificially raised Residential area to be developed Public transport service Rehabilitation for Route 398

1

0 kilometer

Sports Park area

development of highlands

Onagawa Port

Konorihama area

Asahigaoka area

area A

Miyagasaki area

inundation depth arterial road for 2011 tsunami (5.4m asl) level

area A' land filling

area B 4m

inundation depth for 1896 tsunami level seawall area C

1.9m

Figure 5.9. Plan for Redevelopment in the Central Area of Onagawa.

ii. lowland area near the shoreline is to be converted to the industries and memorial park, iii. the area distant from the shoreline but which suffered from the flood is to be walled by highly raised arterial roads as a protective barrier and assigned to commercial and public facilities, including sports fields, iv. new residential estates are to be developed in the peripheral highlands by land cutting. The land development plan for the safer and high-quality town center were developed according to these key concepts (see figure 5.9). It shows the land development scheme with grounds filled up in three levels of “A,” “B,” and “C” according to the past inundation levels by major tsunamis. The highest ground of area “A” is land newly reclaimed by cutting the hillside. A' is land cleared by land filling. In this plan, the shore side of area A' and the central area in “B” and “C” will be vulnerable to the most intensive waves, such as the March 2011 tsunami. Therefore, as shown in figure 5.10,

Tsunami Damage and the Road to Recovery in Onagawa Town   131  

Tsunami Inundated Area Severely Damaged Area

Onagawa Sports Park

Onagawa Town 398

iL in

e

194

m

ak

Onagawa Port

Ish i

no

0

12

220

398

41

1

kilometer

Figure 5.10. Estimated Inundation Levels in Onagawa During the 2011 Tsunami.

the facilities that are planned in this area are limited to businesses and industry, and the residential area is assigned to the higher ground in area “A.” The plan is designed to avoid damage from the worst tsunamis, but the cost of redevelopment is huge.

Recovery of Fishery and Related Industries Reconstruction of the Infrastructure and Recovery of Unloaded Fish Fishery and related industries, including fish processing and wholesaling, are the main commerce of Onagawa. However, almost all of the town’s businesses and infrastructures were swept away by the 2011 tsunami. Reconstruction of industrial infrastructure and recovery of business activities are urgent tasks for total reclamation of the town. As for the infrastructure for fishery industries, after the clearance of debris flowed out to the bay and the first-aid repair of the subsided wharf, the fish market reopened using temporary shelter tents on July 1, 2011, and on September 1 the ice plant of a fishery company reopened. On July 10, 2012, the larger ice plant of the fish buyers co-op reopened, and a large-scale refrigerating plant aided by the Qatar Foundation started its operation on October 13. On October 17, 2012, reconstruction of the breakwater at the mouth of the bay began, which would be able to protect the main port of Onagawa from high waves.

132  Takehiko Takano weight value

1,400 1,200

8

1,000

6

800 600

4

0

400

tsunami disaster

2

Value

Weight

(thousand tons)

10

(million yen)

12

200

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 101112 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 101112 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 101112 2010 2011 2012

0

Month/Year Figure 5.11. Weight and Value of Fish in Onagawa Market, 2010–2012.

Because of the reopening of the facilities needed to support the fisheries, the amount of marine resources unloaded to the Onagawa fish market has rapidly recovered, as shown in figure 5.11. Two major fish species unloaded to the Onagawa fish market are the raised silver salmon in early summer and Pacific saury in the autumn. Figure 5.11 suggests a low price problem, which we can recognize from the relatively low value compared to the weight in the graph. Recovery of Aquaculture and Fishery Cooperative  The fishery production shown in figure 5.11 represents about half of Onagawa’s fishery. The other half consists of types of aquaculture and small coastal fishing, including gathering and picking. Many coastal villagers joined the fishery cooperative and were permitted to engage in such coastal activities. The 2011 tsunami almost completely destroyed and swept away the infrastructures, facilities, and equipments from the villagers, along with their houses. Recovery of those coastal fisheries and aquaculture was promoted by various official aid and private assistance, resulting in the limited decrease of fishery cooperative membership in 2012 (see table 5.3), except for retirement because of old age.

Table 5.3. Number of Fishery Cooperative Members Regular members

2010

2011

2012

377

364

345

Associate members

179

163

148

Total

556

527

493

Tsunami Damage and the Road to Recovery in Onagawa Town   133   Table 5.4. Production Value by Fishery Type (million yen) 2010

2011

2012

Fishing

fish

519

163

220

Picking

abalone

111

133

76

urchin

83

18

42

Aquaculture

silver salmon

1,850

0

1,182

oyster

477

61

116

ascidian

368

4

2

scallop

1,089

4

398

4,497

383

2,036

Total

However, from an economic viewpoint, the extent of the recovery was limited in 2012. Although silver salmon raising supported by major fishery companies has rapidly recovered, the recovery of the other small fisheries remained limited in 2012. Not until 2014 would production reach the levels where it had been before the 2011 disaster. Recovery of the Fish Processing Industry  Fish processing was the most important local industry, as it employed about a quarter of the town’s total workforce before the 2011 disaster. There were thirty-two fish processing firms, nineteen of which were engaged in fish freezing and storage (see table 5.5). Table 5.5. Fish Processing Firms by Type of Products (2009) in Onagawa Types of Products

Firms

freezing and storage

19

canned, bottled

1

fish cake

3

frozen foods

3

salted dry foods

7

boiled dry foods

4

salted foods

6

steamed foods

1

fermented salty foods

3

pickles

1

other processed foods

7

feed, fertilizer

2

Total (actual number)

32

134  Takehiko Takano

Local leading companies had original and well-known products and the ability to develop new items, and most had large freezer and storage facilities. Such major local companies are counted mainly under “fish cake” and “other processed foods” in table 5.5. Most of the firms lost their facilities in the 2011 disaster, the exceptions being a few factories in “Mangokuura” at the opposite side of Onagawa Bay (see figure 5.1). The largest local company, Takamasa, was one such company to fortunately escape severe damage. It supported other local companies by offering the use of its vacant factory floor and by advertising other companies’ items on its own website. Adding a small story here, Mangokuura is known for oyster seed production, as its seeds were historically exported to Europe and North America. At the time of the 2011 tsunami it received less damage, and the oyster seed industry is thriving. Recovery of the Other Industries  The situation of the other industries, containing smaller family operations, was more severe than that faced by the fish processing companies. Most of the manufacturing firms and about half of the retail and service businesses were still closed as of April 2012. According to the Onagawa town office, the situation was mostly the same in September 2013. However, forty-seven of the local retailers joined the temporal shopping street project named Kibo no Kane [chime of hope], which opened in April 2012. It is one of the biggest projects built in the tsunami-damaged Sanriku Coast.

Difficulties and Prospects It was February 1, 2012, when the actual project to develop new residential areas in Onagawa started. At this time, the municipality applied to obtain subsidies offered by the third revised national budget and related bills. The town of Onagawa applied for subsidies to survey adequate uplands suitable for a new town center and residential place, construction of public housing, and rebuilding of the fish market and fishery-related facilities. One of the difficulties in realizing the plan is the lack of agreement among many landowners and inhabitants concerning their moving from their home places. Some hope to move to a safer place, but others are not willing to move. A second difficulty is the cost people must incur when they move to new sites. How the real estate properties in the area destroyed by the tsunami are evaluated is problematic. A third difficulty, which may be the most urgent, is providing business and employment opportunities for the people who lost their means of earning a living. Without income, it will not be possible for substantial parts of the people to move out of temporary shelters. Many younger workers and their families are moving to bigger cities, such as Ishinomaki or Sendai, seeking better economic opportunities. In November 2012, development of the new area for the fish processing industry at the port started, and twelve local leading companies were admitted to join the project. New factories started their operation in early 2016. Other development

Photo 5.1. Temporary shelters for tsunami survivors in Onagawa. (Photograph by Takehiko Tanaka)

Photo 5.2. Reconstruction activity along the Onagawa waterfront. (Photograph by Takehiko Tanaka)

136  Takehiko Takano 11 population households

tsunami disaster

9

3,600

8

3,400

7 6

3,800

3,200

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 2011 2012 2013

Households

(thousands)

Population

10

3,000

Month/Year Figure 5.12. Population Decline After the Tsunami in Onagawa, 2011–2013.

projects—new high-ground residential estates, a new public housing complex, and a new town center with a railroad station—also started in 2013 (see photo 5.2), were completed in 2016. It will take long time to accomplish the plan for the redevelopment. Despite a rather stagnated local economy before the disaster, there was still a considerable number of workers making a living through the small inshore fishery. Such inshore fishery is far more adequately sustainable than the offshore and deep sea fisheries, which were once prosperous and then overfished. Redeveloped Onagawa in the near future should be based on the renewal of such sustainable fisheries. With declining population, the situation is similar for other Sanriku Coast communities damaged by the tsunami (see figure 5.12). This region is destined to suffer from periodic tsunami disasters. Creating a new regional culture is necessary to live in such rare settings. The author believes that long-term and continuous support from the world are necessary for the final recovery of the region, with its unique living culture and landscape, and for its defense against future tsunamis.

References Tohoku University Disaster Control Research Center. 2011. Onagawa cho ni okeru tsunami higai hokoku chosa hokoku—sokuho [Research Report of the Tsunami Disaster in Onagawa Town—A Flash Report]. Sendai, Japan. Onagawa Town. 2011. “Principles of the Recovery.” In Onagawa Town Recovery Plan. http:// www.town.onagawa.miyagi.jp/hukkou/pdf/keikaku/03.houshin.pdf. ———. 2012. Explanation paper for “The Third Meeting of the Town Recovery Plan.” http:// www.town.onagawa.miyagi.jp/hukkou/pdf/20120801_setumeikai.pdf.

Tsunami Damage and the Road to Recovery in Onagawa Town   137   ———. 2012. “Future Image of Onagawa Town.” http://www.town.onagawa.miyagi.jp/hukkou/ image/20120918_onagawa_enkei.jpg. ———. 2012. “Land Use Plan and Development Method for the Central Part and Peripheral Villages.” http://www.town.onagawa.miyagi.jp/hukkou/pdf/iinkai/06_meeting/20120321 .siryou2.pdf. ———. 2013. “Statistical Year Book of Onagawa Town 2013,” 25. http://www.town.onagawa .miyagi.jp/02_03.html. Onagawa Town and Miyagi Prefecture. 2012. “The Third Revised Version of the Recovery Plan, 3.” http://www.town.onagawa.miyagi.jp/hukkou/pdf/toshi/20121127_hukkou_ seibikeikaku3-1.pdf.

6

Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town H. Todd Stradford The former town of Taro, Japan, now part of Miyako City, was world famous for its tsunami precautions and protection. In March 2011 the town was hit by some of the highest waves of the Sanriku earthquake and tsunami. Its protective seawalls were topped, and the town was totally destroyed. Given the resources devoted to tsunami preparedness, how effective were the town’s efforts? Because of an ongoing education program to keep its citizens aware of both the dangers of tsunamis and what actions to take when there was a major earthquake, many lives were saved. It remains a question as to whether large barrier walls will be effective in the future and should be rebuilt, or whether towns should be removed to a higher location, leaving the low areas free of residences.

Background Rikuchu Kaigan National Park is located along the northeast shoreline of Honshu, Japan, from northern Miyagi Prefecture to northern Iwate Prefecture. The southern half of the park is a sunken coastline, with many submerged river valleys forming dendritically shaped bays and inlets, with long, narrow peninsulas enclosing the bays, eroded standing stone formations, and many small islands. “Rikuchu Kaigan,” which translates as “Middle Land Coastline,” was the middle section of three areas of feudal Japan. “Rikuzen” was the area to the south in Miyagi, and “Rikuo” was the province to the north, now in Aomori Prefecture. Together the three make up the area known as “sanriku,” or the “three riku.” Earthquakes and tsunamis that affect this region are therefore given the prefix “sanriku.” The sunken coastline is known as a ria, from the Spanish word rio for river, and has a parallel with the term fjord, which refers to the same type of coastline except with flooded glacial valleys. There are thirty-six large bays located along this rugged ria coastline, and Taro (Taro-cho) was a town located in Shimohei District, Iwate, Japan, in one of these bays in the center of the Rikuchu Coast, east of the prefectural capital of Morioka City and to the north of the regional center of Miyako City. Taro is no longer an independent municipality, as it was one of the many towns and cities caught up in the Great Heisei Mergers, which combined towns, villages, and cities into larger units for the sake of economy. On June 6, 2005, Taro, along with the village of Niisato, merged into the expanded city of Miyako. As of 2003, the town had an estimated population of 4,648 and a density of 46.00 persons per square kilometer

138  

Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town   139  

0

25 0

miles 25

50 50

PACIFIC

kilometers

Hachinohe

OCEAN

Kuji Fundai Taro Miyako

Kamaishi

Sea of Japan

Ofunato Minamisanriku

Sendai

EPICENTER

Figure 6.1. Location of Taro.

in an area of 101.05 square kilometers. The main local industry is fishing, with small plots of land used for farming and raising small numbers of livestock. Present-day statistics are now combined with Miyako City. Being located in a bay along this coast is a disadvantage when large waves come ashore. The surrounding peninsular arms of the bay capture the wave and push it much higher than even on the shallower sea bed at the mouth of the bay. Taro Bay is classified as a “short period type” bay for a tsunami resonance curve, which boosts the inundation wave height quickly in the enclosed area (Satake 2005, 102). As a result, Taro has been swept away repeatedly by tsunamis throughout its history, the earliest recorded instance being on July 9, 869, known as the Jogan Sanriku earthquake and tsunami. The quake was estimated to be between 8.1 and 8.3 in magnitude, and produced a tsunami that completely annihilated Taro port. Sand from this tsunami has been found four kilometers inland from the shore on the Sendai Plain in Miyagi. This scenario was repeated again in 1611 and more recently by the 1896 Meiji

140   H. Todd Stradford

Sanriku tsunami and the 1933 Showa Sanriku tsunami. In the 1896 Meiji Sanriku earthquake, magnitude 7.5, tsunami heights were boosted to fifteen meters above sea level, easily washing away the stone breakwaters (ote), destroying 285 houses, and killing 1,859. There were only thirty-six survivors, another annihilation. The March 3, 1933, earthquake was a magnitude 8.5 event and produced a ten-meterhigh tsunami that destroyed 506 houses, killing 911. But with the 1896 tsunami still in some people’s minds, 1,828 people escaped. In each tsunami, almost the entire fishing fleet in the port was destroyed. Indecision in the minds of the people was apparent in 1933, even with the 1896 tsunami still in living memory. This is an excerpt of one person’s experience of the 1933 earthquake and tsunami: Late in the winter night, people were sleeping with peaceful dreams. At 2:30 a.m., about two hours before dawn, on March 3, the ground began rumbling and shaking. We quickly thought “Earthquake,” and felt shaking and heard rattling sounds. A weird squeaking sound, as if the ceiling was falling down, and an unpleasant sound of glass-windows were heard as the house was shaking and things on the shelf fell off one after another. The clock stopped completely. Children ran outside and little kids were scared, clinging tightly to their parents. That was the strongest shake that I had ever felt in ten years. Even some men, who were careful enough to shut off the stove gas, were too scared to stay inside, and ran outside. It was completely dark inside and out, as the electricity was off. Then a sound like a fired gun was heard twice far away. People didn’t pay much attention to the sound, thinking it was from road construction at night. The lights came back on and people were relieved, but then the earthquake again started and they were in the dark again with no electricity. About ten minutes later they were caught up in fear. Some old men said, “A tsunami might come in this situation.” So some men carefully tried to listen for the sound of the waves and rivers and looked into the well, and went to the beach with lights to look at the sea. After listening to the sounds of the waves, they went back into the town, shouting, “Tsunami is coming!” and ran toward the mountain carrying their babies on their backs and pulling their kids by their hands. As time went by on this very cold night most people began to lose their fear and sat and chatted around a fire. Then they felt relieved and went back to bed saying, “Let’s sleep again until dawn.” At that moment the horn of a ship was blown in the darkness, warning that something unusual was happening. The men who heard the alarm were struck by the idea of a tsunami caused by the earthquake and began waking up the sleeping people and ran toward the mountain crazily shouting, “Tsunami! Tsunami!” The people heard them shouting and were in a panic and helped each other and kept running in the darkness toward a higher place. The word “tsunami” changed the lives of people, young or old, men or women, in this terrible situation. People bumped against the walls and fences and lost their balance in the stones and tripped and as soon

Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town   141  

as they got up, the mass of fleeing people pushed them back down, and in the crowd girls and children tried to catch anybody to carry them to safety. Some people knelt down silently. Others thought it was a false alarm and climbed on their roof to find no fires before going back to bed peacefully. During that time, raging waves like a sea demon rushed toward the land. The roaring sound made when the waves struck the rocks in the bay scared them to the nerve. The sea demon, which they could now see dimly in the dark, reached its terrible hand toward the fields, trees, and town like a wide belt spread sideways with wind. The roofs were hit and flew up in the air with a terrible sound. The houses fell down one after another like a shogi [Japanese chess] piece. The big waves broke through the gardens completely. A man who escaped late said, “The first returning waves and the second rapidly coming waves attacked each other to whirl around.” He lost himself in the next waves and didn’t know when the waves washed over him. When he awoke, he found himself in water up to his chest and with his head floating on poles and trees. All he could do was let the waves do what they did. Where did he lose his lovely baby carried on his back? When did the sea demon take away his child carried in his arms? It was easy to take a precious child from an unconscious man. When he thought about his dead child under the waves, he prayed to the gods and at the same time the faces of his family flashed across his mind. It was impossible to express his feeling in words. In the area of Aratani and Aosari, where the waves came around slowly, a strange phenomenon occurred where the waves curled around the fleeing people and attacked them from the direction they were fleeing. Thus the sea demon took away their happiness and gulped fathers and mothers and children, and their property. The waves calmed down and groans and cries for help were heard under some remaining broken houses. There were voices of survivors heard shouting for missing children. They could not see anything in the dark and cold night just before dawn. Their cries echoed in the night sky. There were many injured people who were conscious crying for help, but who died in the coldness watching a large fire surrounded by survivors gathered to get warm, and thinking of the cruel world. Forty people who barely escaped the tsunami and survived were pressed under the burning rubble and passed away in the fire. Finally, day broke and cleared up after snowing just before dawn. The morning sunshine warmed the land and the sunbeams looked so hateful. All the places turned into the wilds and dead bodies were lying everywhere. (Taro-cho 2005, 14) A total of 911 people were killed or missing, many due to the indecision of what action to take. Without information, the cold and dark led many to return to their homes, only to find a tsunami rushing upon them. If these people had remained on the hill, they would have survived.

142   H. Todd Stradford

The 451 survivors had to live crowded in the school until apartments could be hastily built. Temporary apartments for the evacuees started to go up on March 8 and were completed on March 12, thanks to fast prefectural action and the volunteer labor of villagers. A total of 156 houses were built, each of which contained five apartments. Each apartment had three rooms, with exterior walls made of one cedar board and a roof covered with cedar bark, which was not good enough to protect from cold, snow, and rain. An extremely large number of people came to help the people through this difficult time (Taro-cho 2005, 19). The town quickly decided that action had to be taken to prevent such a disaster from ever occurring again. Because the Japanese government at this time was promoting the colonization of Manchuria under its Nohonshugisha program (government sponsored agricultural emigration), the idea of moving to China was immediately raised. Even though this would remove the citizens of Taro from the dangers of a tsunami, the idea of being a buffer between Chinese Resistance and Russian invasion was not embraced by many and was quickly discarded. This left the local people to develop, organize, and implement a plan of defense, education, and information dissemination for the town.

Protection, Education, and Information Dissemination Measures Walls If the people of Taro were to continue to live in this town, they needed something better than the ote (piled stone walls) that repeatedly washed away with each tsunami. The first proposal was to build a permanent fifteen-meter-high concrete barrier between the town and the harbor to protect six hundred houses and thirty-three hundred people and their property. As the village itself would be paying for the wall, it was quickly determined that a wall of this size, stretching from just north of the station to the upper reaches of the Chonai River, would be too expensive. The height was reduced to ten meters, and work began in 1934 and continued for six years and nine months; 960 meters were completed before work was forced to stop due to the escalating war in China. Also, in 1935, a seven-hectare grove of trees was planted along the western shore of the Tashiro River to act as a breakwater for any wave before it reached the main wall (Iwate-ken 2011a, 6). A small tsunami in March 1952 gave the town impetus to petition the prefectural and national governments for aid in finishing the wall, as the half-completed wall did nothing to protect the town. With financing of the wall now shared among the national, prefectural, and town authorities, construction resumed in 1954, and by 1958 the huge tsunami breakwater was completed, being 1,350 meters long, 3 meters wide at the top, 25 meters wide at the base, and 10.65 meters above mean sea level. It reminded the people of the Great Wall of China. The wall was first tested on May 24, 1960, when a magnitude 9.5 Chilean earthquake sent a three-meter-high wave into it. The wall so successfully stopped the wave that Taro became a pilgrimage site for tsunami protection study. It was visited and

Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town   143  

Figure 6.2. Taro: Tsunami Walls and Evacuation Sites.

inspected not only by people from all over Japan but also professors of the University of Chile. Other cities began constructing barriers that were similar to Taro’s, to various degrees. Taro’s wall was just one of about a dozen major seawalls around the country, but locals like to tell visitors how people from “all over Asia” come here to see the famous seawall (Schiller 2011). In 1962, with the success in stopping the Chilean tsunami, Taro began building a second wall, starting at the center of the first wall and extending eastward into the

144   H. Todd Stradford

port area. This wall was 582 meters long, 10 meters above sea level, and contained three gates and one floodgate for the Chonai River. It was completed in 1967. In 1972 a floodgate for the Tashiro River and a third wall were begun. They were completed in 1978. This one was 501 meters long, 10 meters above sea level, and contained two gates. The gate controls were radio-linked to the town hall and could be opened and closed remotely. Both of these walls were slightly smaller in thickness than the 1958 wall. Because the grove of trees was now behind the new wall, it was determined that the grove was unnecessary and some of the trees were cut down to make room for a baseball stadium. The town now had over 2.4 kilometers of protective walls 10 meters high in an “X” formation.

Disaster Prevention Radio In 1954, the first of several towers were constructed known as Taro’s “Tsunami Alarm.” Multiple speakers were mounted at the top of the towers, and both regular and emergency announcements could be made to the community. The towers were made familiar to the citizens by using them as a daily broadcast system for time, signaling at 6:00 a.m., noon, 5:00 p.m., and 9:00 p.m. daily. By 1981, this alarm system was expanded to include the base station in the town hall, the Taro fire department, and the fishery office. From these three offices, messages could be sent by radio across town to thirty-seven small offices and eighteen hundred household receivers. Every household, business, and school had a receiver for any emergency announcement made. By 1990, four mobile broadcast stations were added in case any of the base stations were compromised in a disaster scenario. The mobile stations could communicate directly with the town hall main station. More recently, fishermen were provided with GPS-equipped cell phones to take with them while working at sea. If a wave was noticed, they could call into the town hall control center to give warning, with their location automatically provided by the phone.

Evacuation Routes By 1986, a system of evacuation routes was set up. Every household was assigned a primary and secondary evacuation center and a route to get there. The 1933 tsunami showed that the roads were too narrow to allow for an evacuation’s traffic flow, so a plan to widen and improve them was implemented. Over seventy roads were paved, widened, or created, expanding the area of the roads by ten hectares. Intersections were made more rectangular, and the corners were cut to allow easier vision and turning (see photo 6.1). Roads that led up hills were equipped with steps down the center and metal handrails along the sides to aid in evacuation. The national highway running through the center of town was widened to thirteen meters and paved by 1961.

Observation System The “Tsunami View Positioning System” was completed in 1992. It consisted of cameras installed in two places with spotlights facing the ocean. Wave changes were observed remotely on television monitors and the information was passed on

Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town   145  

Photo 6.1. Widened streets and a cut corner at an intersection in Taro. (Photograph by H. Todd Stradford)

to the residents. This system also recorded the images, which could then be used in disaster education.

Tide Level Monitoring System The Tide Level Monitoring System installed at Taro’s fishing port read the tide level using a pressure-sensing device and sent the information of the ebb and flow of the tide to a computer in the monitoring office. The monitoring and equipment maintenance for this system and that of the “View” system were performed by the Earthquake Research Institute Testing and Research Center of the Geological Institute of Tokyo University. The data were quickly passed on to the Disaster Prevention Office in the town hall, which could then forward it quickly to the town if needed.

Tsunami Predicting System Also maintained by Tokyo University was a seismograph installed to monitor up– down, east–west, and north–south motion. It was tied into a larger complex that the Geological Institute uses to predict tsunamis after earthquakes are sensed. Warnings were given from the Institute back to Taro to be disseminated to the town.

Satellite Receiving Equipment for Emergency Information Remotely sensed information from the “Himawari” geostationary meteorological satellite maintained by the Japan Meteorological Agency provides surface information, such as road and bridge conditions after an earthquake and whether a tsunami has been spotted. This information could be quickly fed back to the town and the Sanriku National Highway Construction Office to get the latest road conditions for evacuation or transportation in an emergency.

146   H. Todd Stradford

Education Ongoing was the education of the townspeople. Signs, monuments, flyers, drills, and presentations all combined to keep everyone in town aware and alert. Every year on March 3 at 6:30 a.m., on the anniversary of the 1933 tsunami disaster, the town held an evacuation drill. Sirens sounded, announcements were made, and everyone in town hurried up the roads to their designated evacuation sites. City employees took their emergency positions, fire engines and ambulances were made ready, and all the gates on the wall and river floodgates were closed. People waited for twenty minutes at their site before returning home or stopping at the monument commemorating the lost in the last major tsunami. A survivor of the 1933 tsunami, Mrs. Yoshi Tabata, created a storyboard of her experience as a child during that tsunami that she has presented to many local schools for over thirty years. She taught that “whenever there is a large earthquake, a tsunami can follow . . . so keep clothes and shoes close to your bed at all times to aid in a quick escape to higher ground.”

Tsunami As discussed, the town built a trio of ten-meter-high seawalls to prevent flooding from tsunamis. After the completion of the second and third walls, the town expanded into what were previously farm fields, building new houses and businesses behind the perceived protection of these new walls. However, the seawall did not protect the town when an earthquake and subsequent tsunami struck Japan on March 11, 2011, with a wave estimated to be between 12 and 37.9 meters high. Twenty-two percent of the coastline was hit with a wave between two and four meters. Fourteen percent experienced a wave from four to eight meters in height. Only 7 percent of the coastline was hit with a wave greater than eight meters (MLITT). Taro was in this last category. The ground shaking from the Great Tohoku Earthquake was first felt on the Japanese mainland at 3:46 p.m. local time and continued for up to five minutes. The earthquake occurred along a subduction zone between the Pacific and North American plates, approximately eighty-one miles (130 kilometers) offshore of the Ojika Peninsula in northern Japan. A tsunami was generated by the earthquake, and damaging waves started washing over the Japanese coast within fifteen minutes of the seismic event. Over the ensuing hours, waves reached three to five kilometers inland, often extending up to ten meters high, with run-up reaching twenty-five to thirty meters (Ewing 2011). Immediately after the earthquake, the tsunami sirens in Taro sounded. The message heard over the house receivers from the Japan Meteorological Agency (JMA) stated that there was an estimated one-meter-high tsunami generated in the southern portions of Sanriku and a three-meter-high wave in the north. People immediately left their buildings and waited for further information. The students of the Daiichi Middle School stood in front of their school. Some people climbed to the top of the

Surface Elevation (m)

Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town   147   2.0 1.8 1.6 1.4 1.2 1.0 0.8 0.6 0.4 0.2 0.0 -0.2 -0.4 -0.6 -0.8 -1.0 -1.2 1000

Measured by ocean buoy (it first recorded 3/11 tsunami) Predicted by computer model

2000

3000

4000

5000

6000

7000

8000

9000

10000

Relative seconds after earthquake

Figure 6.3. Wave Shape as Recorded by DART Buoy.

seawalls, apparently hoping to get a better look at the reportedly three-meter tsunami, not realizing that the wave’s open-sea heights would be amplified as it moved over shallower seas. This misunderstanding was compounded by computer models not matching the reality of this wave. The wave in the north was a shear wave, standing more vertical than the models had predicted, resulting in an even higher wave than expected. By comparing measured wave height at the buoys to the predicted wave heights, the quality of the models can be determined. Figure 6.3 shows NOAA’s Deep-Ocean Assessment and Reporting of Tsunami (DART) buoy data wave shape versus the model prediction in the deep ocean. The Geologic Institute of Tokyo University postulates that hardened sediments filling the ocean trench broke in a vertical direction, throwing up the wave in a steeper and higher form than if only the bedrock of the tectonic plates had moved. The Sanriku Coast therefore was hit with a larger tsunami than that predicted and broadcast in the advance warnings. However, some people paid attention to more than the radio announcement. Luckily, just a week before, Taro had held its annual tsunami drill, and most citizens immediately moved toward their evacuation sites. When fisherman Tatsuo Haroki felt the force of the earthquake, he knew the seawall was not going to save him. “That earthquake was so huge, we’d never experienced anything like it before.” He was working in the harbor and immediately left to get his wife and head to higher ground (Schiller 2011). Mikako Watanabe, also in the harbor, climbed the seawall, got her five-year-old grandson Yoh, and evacuated. The majority of the people of Taro had learned the lessons of the past and moved inland. At approximately 4:26 p.m. the tsunami was spotted moving shoreward. A teacher on the roof of the middle school shouted to everyone to get up the hill. His voice was so urgent that everyone immediately started climbing the hill through the vegetation and did not bother to find a path or road (T. Yamazaki 2011b). The wave was so high

148   H. Todd Stradford Photo 6.2. The tsunami topping the walls and entering Taro. The Tashiro River floodgates can be seen in the middle right, with the wave topping the 1978 seawall. The forest behind the wall is directly beneath the floodgates. The middle school is seen in the lower left. The port area is totally submerged. (Photograph courtesy of Japan Self-Defense Force video)

that it crashed over the rocky outcrops at the entrance of the harbor and continued straight for the walls (see photo 6.2). Fusako Hatakeyama stated, “The wave quickly engulfed the dikes. It went over it and didn’t even crash against it” (Chao 2011). Tatsuo Haroki estimates that the tsunami was between twelve and fifteen meters high. Others thought it was “at least four meters higher [than the wall]” (NHKWorld 2011). Evacuees on the hilltop watched as a traffic jam took shape on the village’s main street just before the wave tore through the outer wall and topped the inner one, sweeping away those who had climbed atop the seawall before pulverizing the town into rubble. Mrs. Azuma, a younger sister of Yoshi Tabata, described what she saw. “The seawater was so high that it surpassed the mountain at the entrance of the port, and looked as if it marched as a line of people with joined hands, and it did not look like it moved fast but slowly, then it climbed up to the dikes and over and suddenly crashed down to the ground. Then immediately its speed increased tremendously. Then logs dashed along the streets.” In the picture story by Yoshi Tabata, Mrs. Azuma was just a baby sleeping on her mother’s back (T. Yamazaki 2011b). The main waves came in from the southeast; the secondary wall finished in 1967, which extended from the center of the first wall into the port area, was the most directly hit. The water quickly topped the wall, blew out the floodgates, and began breaking the wall apart. Once the shell of concrete covering the earthen core was cracked, water began scouring away the earthen center and much of the wall disintegrated. The wall completed in 1978 received the wave as it refracted around the southern headland of the harbor. It was not hit as violently and, although damaged, maintained its structure as the water poured over it. The oldest main wall, being thicker, was also damaged but maintained its structure; it remained essentially intact after the tsunami waves subsided.

Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town   149   Relationship between tsunami height measured at tide station and inundation depths, trace heights, and run-up heights Tide Station Tsunami Height

Ordinary Tide Level

Inundation Depth

Trace Height

Run-up Height

Figure 6.4. Tide Station at Taro.

After the water receded, flotsam piled against the remaining dikes and a fire started in the rubble west of the Daiichi Middle School, sending up smoke over the town (Iwate Menkoi Television 2011). Almost all of the buildings behind the walls in that area that were made of wood were floated, smashed, and broken into pieces. Structures with reinforced concrete walls were flooded to the fourth floors but remained standing. The run-up is estimated to have reached 37.9 meters in height, nearly equaling the domestic record of 38.2 meters marked in the city of Ofunato in the 1896 Meiji Sanriku earthquake tsunami, according to Yoshinobu Tsuji, associate professor at the Earthquake Research Institute at the University of Tokyo. Tsuji and his team checked the drift displacement and found that lumber from the port reached the slope of a mountain some two hundred meters from the coast. He calculated the height of the tsunami from the points at which the lumber was found (Japan Times, April 4, 2011).

Aftermath In the four affected prefectures, the tsunami flooded ninety-two square kilometers of urban areas. Forty-one square kilometers were flooded without much structural damage, twenty-three square kilometers showed flooding with visible structural damage, and twenty-eight square kilometers were destroyed down to the foundations of the buildings (MLITT 2011). Most of Taro was destroyed to the foundations. The walls meant to protect the town now merely divided the damage between the port area and the town, with nearly total destruction on both sides. One volunteer, driving to look at the town, reported the following: He showed me the GPS. Taro, a town of 5,000 had occupied this sandy, barren plain. There was literally nothing there. We continued driving and went to the Taro docks. There were two buildings left in this whole town. A hotel and some sort of building on the waterfront. I guessed it was a fishing building of some sort but there was no way to tell.

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The hotel showed the height of the tsunami as the bottom three stories were completely demolished and the fourth story was covered in debris. A tire was lodged in a balcony window railing around forty to forty-five feet high. Aside from that hotel, there was nothing recognizable. No way to tell where buildings were. No concrete foundations. No iron beams. Just sand from the tsunami and small mounds of cloth, wood and metal. We saw one TV. Five thousand people had lived there, and we saw only one TV. (Herbertson 2011) Another report gave evidence to the height: “We visited Taro Town again on April 6. We’ve found the marks which show how far the tsunami reached and its new characteristic. The huge tsunami surpassed the 10-meter-high dike and fell on the ground, where it scooped out large holes on the ground” (K. Yamazaki 2011b). According to a report from the prefecture, the walls received the following damage: the Tashiro River floodgate received machine equipment damage. The 1978 wall on the south side of the town was damaged along a 0.3-kilometer stretch on the reverse side. The 1967 Taro fishing port wall was completely destroyed. The forest behind the 1978 wall disappeared. The main 1958 wall, although topped by the tsunami, appeared intact except for stair and railing damage (Iwate-ken 2011b, 6). The port itself was completely destroyed. The huge blocks of concrete that made up the storm breakwaters protecting the harbor were picked up, tilted, and pushed

Photo 6.3 Taro behind the 1958 wall as seen on May 26, 2005. (Photograph by H. Todd Stradford)

Photo 6.4. Behind the 1958 wall on June 18, 2011, one hundred days after the tsunami. (Photograph by H. Todd Stradford).

Photo 6.5. Taro looking toward the port on May 26, 2005. (Photograph by H. Todd Stradford)

Photo 6.6. The same street on June 18, 2011. (Photograph by H. Todd Stradford)

Photo 6.7. The broken 1967 wall on June 18, 2011. The port area is to the right, and houses were to the left. The broken concrete sheathing can be seen, which exposed the earthen interior to the waves. (Photograph by H. Todd Stradford)

Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town   153  

around the harbor. Some were deposited in the Tashiro River, where they tumbled into the riverbed just before the wall. The harbor will remain unusable until these blocks are found and removed. In June, a large crane on a barge was attempting to remove an unseen block below the surface without much success. The survivors were able to watch as the water slowly drained through the broken gates and walls to the ocean. Fusako Hatakeyama stated, “I can’t believe a tsunami did this. It feels like we got bombed” (Chao 2011). According to survivors who sheltered in the elementary school, the first night was very tough because of the cold weather, the lack of electricity or gas, and the shortage of food. However, residents whose homes were not damaged brought blankets and food for the evacuees in the school. All communications were down. It took ten days for cell phone service to be restored. For up to two weeks, the “terribly cold victims” sheltered in the Taro elementary school gymnasium. By March 13, 2011, better shelters were designated and were being set up to hold 8,889 people at the “Gurinpia” (Green Pia), a resort hotel overlooking the ocean twenty minutes north of Taro, at the Sakura Kindergarten in Miyako City, at the Taro Onsen Hotel, also in Miyako City, at the Miyako City #2 Middle School, at the Miyako City Atago Primary School, and at other hotels and schools converted for emergency use around the prefecture (Miyako). People began to move from the flooded Taro school to the new shelters within days. “The majority are having great anxiety in leaving the town and their former life” (K. Yamazaki 2011b). In the immediate aftermath of March 11, the necessities of life were in short supply. Transportation by road and rail was stopped until inspectors could check bridges and rail lines. Coastal roads and tunnels near the ocean were clogged with debris. The shortages extended all the way into the interior of the prefecture. Iwate University faculty member Yamazaki said, “We are terribly short of gasoline. There have been long lines at gas stations, but today we got enough gasoline to go to Taro. We will ask what kind of support they need this time and go there again to deliver what they need” (T. Yamazaki 2011a). The regional hospitals were overwhelmed, and the town’s only clinic, along with all the patient records, were destroyed. However, the town’s only doctor was able to remember the medical problems of many of his patients even without medical records. The refugees’ most common problems after the tsunami were elevated blood pressure (some were higher than 200/110) because of stress and lost medicines, upper respiratory tract infections, constipation, insomnia, allergic rhinitis, eczema, asthma exacerbation, and uncontrolled diabetes (Kisken 2011). Understanding the needs of the victims in the disaster areas is essential to meet the challenges. At the Taro No. 3 Middle School in Settai Village a U.S. Army helicopter landed on the school grounds three times. When the helicopter landed, faculty members gave the pilots notes written in Japanese and English with words such as “water,” “food,” “garments,” and “blankets.” “Much of the clothing is too large, and food is things like Rice Krispies or cornflakes.” The Japanese don’t eat breakfast cereals (K. Yamazaki 2011b).

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Photo 6.8. Debris piled against the damaged 1978 floodgate wall on June 18, 2011. The wave was powerful enough to peel the concrete encasements off the earthen core of the wall. (Photograph by H. Todd Stradford)

Within two days after the tsunami the train tunnel was cleared of debris and used to access the town. Several days after the trains had access, the main roads were cleared and people were being moved to the Green Pia Hotel shelter, the closest to Taro. By March 15, some 454 people were already registered at the resort. Within a month the town was filled with backhoes and most of the flotsam-type debris had been removed to the south end of town. The rivers and culverts were still filled with debris, and crushed and dented automobiles were still lying randomly amid the foundations. At one hundred days, the destroyed automobiles had been piled up in a long line awaiting the next step toward recycling, the rivers had been cleaned up except for the massive concrete blocks, and a small gasoline station had been opened in the middle of the tan plain of foundations, the only visible structure that reopened. There were still few people around other than the cleanup crews and engineers planning the next step. The Japanese cabinet approved a bill on July 8 to enable the central government to remove and dispose of debris upon a request from the afflicted municipalities. Under the bill, 148 municipalities in nine prefectures affected by the disaster were eligible for government help to expedite clearing of the massive amounts of rubble, as well as wrecked vehicles and ships. There was an estimated 21.8 million tons of debris in the coastal areas of Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima Prefectures alone (Japan Times, July 9, 2011). The total amount of waste has been estimated to be between 80 and 200

Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town   155  

million tons, which is comparable in size to the waste generated by Hurricane Katrina in the United States. The shortage of land for waste removal will further escalate the cost of disposing of post-disaster waste in Japan (UNEP Update 2011). Throughout 2011, the removal of the debris began only on a limited basis, since a depository for such a large amount of waste was yet to be found. The burnable debris swamped the incinerators, which could not keep up; much of the concrete, which can be recycled into gravel for road fill, was too large to move. By the summer of 2012, nearby prefectures were taking debris for recycling and disposal. The steel and iron debris was totally removed along with about two-thirds of the rest. By the second anniversary of the tsunami, the removal was complete and Taro and other tsunami-hit towns along the coast resembled construction sites, with bare ground and foundations showing where buildings once stood. However, further construction and plans for rebuilding have stalled. Obtaining land at higher elevations or building defensive barriers against future tsunamis have also stalled.

Conclusions As of August 17, the tsunami toll was 15,703 dead and 4,647 missing. In Iwate Prefecture there were 4,637 dead and 2,022 missing. In Miyako City, which includes Taro, there were 525 dead, 33 injured, and 117 missing (MLITT 2011). The total toll for Miyako City is less than the total number of victims for Taro alone in the 1933 tsunami. Estimates for Taro itself are 178 dead and 30 missing, which is far lower than many other towns along the Sanriku Coast (Hiraga 2012). The final death toll will include related deaths caused by stress and chronic disease while living in shelters, and continues to be adjusted. The comprehensive program of defenses coupled with education saved lives. The walls were topped and destroyed by the tsunami caused by the largest recorded earthquake in Japan’s history, but the constant education by the town and by individuals such as Yoshi Tabata meant that the majority of people made it to higher ground out of harm’s way. There was confusion on the estimated height of the incoming wave that led people to believe it would not be so large, with a three-meter estimate. This confusion, coupled with a false sense of security generated by having such a large set of walls between the town and the ocean, led some people to not heed the warnings seriously and resulted in casualties. The waves caused by the earthquake were not uniform as they struck the east coast of Japan. Due to ocean bottom and topographic characteristics of the coastline, the waves ranged from only half a meter to over eight meters in height. The area along the Rikuchu Coast of Iwate Prefecture had the highest waves, and some of the greatest damage. In Iwate Prefecture alone, more than 23,000 structures along the coast were destroyed. Along the Taro coastline, an estimated 1,609 buildings were completely destroyed, and 59 were half-destroyed, leaving only concrete walls, 150 had the first floor flooded, and another 12 had foundation flooding under the floor (MLITT 2011).

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18 16

(meters)

Height of Wave

12 15

10 8

10

6 4

Percent of Coast Hit

20

14

5

2 0

Below 0.5m

0.5m to 1m

1m to 2m

Height of Wave

2m to 4m

4m to 8m

Above 8m

0

Percent of Coast Hit

Figure 6.5. Percent of Japanese Coast Hit by Tsunami Waves of Various Heights.

The entire fishing fleet of Taro was in port and was therefore destroyed, and other equipment for aquaculture, fishing gear, and even the cars fishermen used to get to port were washed to sea by the tsunami. Therefore, the fishermen of the Miyako Fishery Association cannot resume work. Many association members did not have insurance to cover their boats and equipment. These members will have to purchase equipment with their own money to start again. In addition, most fishermen are elderly, with an average age of around sixty. The fishing industry in Taro and other small fishing villages will not recover without external help. As of Tuesday, August 30, 2011, only seventeen people were still living in the shelters, all located in the town of Yamada. At the March 13 peak, 54,429 evacuees took shelter in Iwate, with a maximum of 399 shelters available on March 19. By August 31, all had moved into temporary housing comprised of 12,683 makeshift apartments (sometimes two boxcars bolted together and fitted with plumbing and electricity) and 3,856 private housing units. More than 90 percent of the quake-hit schools are still unusable, and most local students from the tsunami area are forced to study in other schools or public buildings. It is yet to be decided whether their schools will be rebuilt at the original sites or moved elsewhere (Japan Times, September 1, 2011). Many of the remaining schools have been able to take up the slack as people whose dwellings were destroyed moved out of the area, taking their children with them. A year after the tsunami, the number of students at Taro Senior High is half of what it was before the tsunami, with no return to pre-tsunami numbers in sight. Plans to build and resettle have slowly been abandoned by large numbers of the evacuees as reconstruction has stalled. The municipal governments have been unable to obtain land on higher ground due to the cost or the unwillingness of the landowners to

Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town   157  

sell. Funds from the national government have been slow to be distributed also, making any reconstruction difficult. As a result, in Iwate Prefecture alone, 1,682 households have withdrawn from the resettlement plan and have decided to live in their new locations and not return (Japan Times, March 12, 2014). Approximately 470,000 people were forced to leave all areas, and more are deciding not to return (Japan Times, March 14, 2014). The massive piles of debris kept in temporary storage sites along the coast are just one indicator that a huge amount of work remains to be done (Fukada and Kamiya 2011). Foremost among these tasks is determining the future of the towns and villages along the coast. Planners are already looking at rebuilding some of the towns, but opposition and uncertainty are slowing down the process; some argue that rebuilding on the same site will allow a repeat of the present disaster. One option being considered is rebuilding the towns out of the tsunami zone on higher ground. This has already been done in Itsuki village in Kumamoto Prefecture, moving the town above the flood waters of a proposed dam. This may work for the smaller villages such as Taro, but not for the larger towns, where room does not exist in an already crowded country. Ultimately, decisions about reconstruction plans for each town will fall to local leaders, but the uncertainty about the extent and speed of aid from the central government has caused most towns to move cautiously, as a change in government policy could quickly undo already finished reconstruction planning. The option of moving Taro to higher ground was examined, but without government help this is not a possibility due to the high asking price for the wooded uplands. Without any word from the national government, other options had to be examined. A year after the tsunami, the town of Taro decided to strengthen its first wall, raising it to fourteen and a half meters from its present ten meters. This still would not have stopped the total waters of the March 11 tsunami, but it may have stopped enough to prevent the damage that did occur. The village of Fudaimura, north of Taro along the coast, has a fifteen-meter-high floodgate and wall that stopped enough of the tsunami to prevent damage to the town. The gate was topped by the tsunami and gravel washed through the lower areas along the river, but the village was saved. In regard to Ms. Yoshi Tabata, who spent much of her life educating the public about the dangers of a tsunami: “Mrs. Tabata is safe, but she said that she wouldn’t like to live in Taro any longer because she has experienced such devastating tsunamis twice in her life. I think it is high time that the younger generation succeed her endeavors” (T. Yamazaki 2011a). In front of the old Taro town hall is a stone marker with the inscription: “We will always continue to take to heart the many lessons we learned in the [1933] tsunami. We will not forget the history of the tsunami, but will improve our town with modern equipment and an improved ability to deal with regional disasters. Together we will commit to these changes and will hand the accumulated wisdom over to the next generation.” Overall, though, “Is any measure good enough to fight nature at its worst?” (NHKWorld 2011).

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References Abe, K. 2000. “Predominance of Long Periods in Large Pacific Tsunamis.” Science of Tsunami Hazards 18:15–34. Chao, Steve. 2011. “Japan Survivors Await Help.” Al Jazeerah, 18 March. http://english. aljazeera.net/video/asia-pacific/2011/03/2011318102529995306.html. Earthquake-Report.com. 2011. “Japan Tohoku Tsunami and Earthquake: The Death Toll Is Climbing Again!” Update. August 7. http://earthquake-report.com/2011/08/04/ japan-tsunami-following-up-the-aftermath-part-16-june/. East Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force. 2011. Video of Taro Tsunami. Ministry of Defense. March 12. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i2W6KUwa8dI. Ewing, Lesley. 2011. The Tohoku Tsunami of March 11, 2011: A Preliminary Report on Effects to the California Coast and Planning Implications. California Coastal Commission. April 18. http://www.coastal.ca.gov/energy/tsunami/ccc_tohoku_tsunami_report.pdf. Fukada, Takahiro, and Setshuko Kamiya. 2011. “Six Months On, Few Signs of Recovery.” Japan Times, 11 September. http://www.japantimes.co.jp/text/nn20110911a1.html. Herbertson, Daniel. 2011. “Yamato-Damashii Diaries—Day 3: The Town That Was Taro.” MMA Fighting, April 14. http://www.mmafighting.com/2011/04/14/ yamato-damashii-diaries-day-3-the-town-that-was-taro/. Hiraga, Shinji. 2012. Interview of Miyako Kita High School Principal. May 30. Iwate Disaster Prevention Portal. 2011. Refugee Statistics. March 28. http://sv032.office.pref. iwate.jp/~bousai/. Iwate-ken. 2011a. Higashi Nippon Dai Jishin and Tsunami Statistics Report, August. http:// www.pref.iwate.jp/%7Ehp0212/fukkou_net/pdf_doc/kihonkeikaku_sankou.pdf. ———. 2011b. Iwate Prefecture East Japan Large Earthquake Disaster and Tsunami Revival Plan Reference Material. Iwate Prefecture Revival Bureau. August. http://www.pref.iwate .jp/~hp0212/fukkou_net/. Iwate Menkoi Television. 2011. Tsunami Report. March 12. http://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=-UdwOprOOhw. Japan Meteorological Agency (JMA). Tsunami Observations (Issued at 18:05 JST 13 Mar 2011). http://www.jma.go.jp/en/tsunami/observation_04_20110313180559.html. Japan Times. 2011. “Iwate Saw Wave Test 38 Meters.” April 4. http://www.japantimes.co.jp/ text/nn20110404a6.html. ———. 2011. “Cabinet OKs Bill to Let State Handle Tsunami Debris Cleanup.” July 9, 2011. ———. 2011. “Iwate Shuts down Last Evacuation Shelters.” September 1. http://www .japantimes.co.jp/news/2011/09/01/national/iwate-shuts-down-last-evacuation-shelters/. Karan, Pradyumna P., and Shanmugam P. Subbiah, eds. 2011. The Indian Ocean Tsunami: The Global Response to a Natural Disaster. Lexington: Univ. Press of Kentucky. Keicho, Toshiaki. 2007. Learning About Tsunami—Taro Town. August 10. http://ameblo.jp/ keicho/entry-10042988377.html. Kisken, Tom. 2011. “Tsunami Draws Oxnard Doctor Back to Japan.” Ventura County Star. April 12. http://www.vcstar.com/news/tsunami-draws-oxnard-doctor-back-to-japanep-365174459-341819071.html. McDowell, Kevin. 2002. “Colonizing Manchuria: Racial Harmony and Agricultural Emigration in the Japanese Empire.” Master’s thesis, University of British Columbia, March. Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport, and Tourism (MLITT). 2011. Press Release. August 4. http://www.mlit.go.jp/common/000162533.pdf. Miyako City. Official website of Miyako. http://www.city.miyako.iwate.jp/. Motoda, Yoshitaka. 2011. “Miyako City-Tarou Area Disaster Photographs.” Iwate Pre-

Earthquake and Tsunami in Taro Town   159   fectural University Integrated Policy Department. March 23. http://p-www.iwate-pu. ac.jp/~motoda/miyakotarodisaster.pdf. NHKWorld. 2011. Tsunami Japan—Tarou. March 18. http://www3.nhk.or.jp/nhkworld/english/ tv/japan7/archives201103180600.html; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xBKtw9JMba4. NOAA. “The Tsunami Buoy Network.” National Data Buoy Center. http://www.ndbc.noaa. gov/dart.shtml. Onishi, Norimitsu. 2011. “In Japan, Seawall Offered a False Sense of Security.” New York Times, March 31. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/02/world/asia/02wall .html?_r=1&ref=world&pagewanted=all. Ouagadougou62. 2011. “Tarou after 1 Month.” August 16. http://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=0geDXnf1Liw. Public Information Data. 2011. Security Police Headquarters Emergency Disaster. September 6. http://www.npa.go.jp/archive/keibi/biki/higaijokyo.pdf. Satake, Kenji, ed. 2005. Tsunamis: Case Studies and Recent Developments. Advances in Natural and Technological Hazards Research, vol. 23. New York: Springer Publishing. Schiller, Bill. 2011. “A Story of Survival Rises from the Ruins of a Fishing Village.” Star, March 15. http://www.thestar.com/news/world/2011/03/15/a_story_of_survival_rises_from_ the_ruins_of_a_fishing_village.html. Taro-cho. 2005. Regional Guide: Tsunami and Earthquakes—Handing Down Personal Experience, 7th ed. Iwate: Taro-town. March 31. “Tsunami Learning Taro Town.” 2007. August 10. http://ameblo.jp/keicho/entry-10042988377 .html. UNEP Update. 2011. United Nations Environment Programme. April 11. http://www.unep .org/tsunami/. Yamazaki, Kenji. 2011a. Correspondence. March 28. ———. 2011b. Correspondence. March 29. Yamazaki, Tomoko. 2011a. Correspondence. March 23. ———. 2011b. Correspondence. April 9.

7

The Cases of Two Tsunami Storytellers Who Experienced Tsunami Disasters Twice in Their Lifetimes Tomoko Yamazaki The Sanriku Coast in Japan’s Iwate Prefecture has been hit by tsunamis many times. It has a long history of surviving and “fighting” against tsunamis. Taro,1 in Iwate Prefecture’s Miyako City, is a town that has fully devoted itself to tsunami disaster prevention. In fact, it claimed itself to be “A Town for Tsunami Disaster Prevention” in 1989. In this article, the author discusses what a disaster means ethnographically to citizens through an analysis of how two female citizens who were born and brought up in Taro have continued to talk about and share their tsunami experiences. In September 2010, these two women talked about their experiences surviving the tsunami of 1933 for a course offered at Iwate University entitled “Approaches for Disaster Prevention Based on the Real Aspects of Tsunamis.” The course was initially offered in 2008 and consisted of classroom lectures and a field trip to Taro.2 During the field trip held in September 2010, university students enrolled in the course listened to the picture story show created by Mrs. Yoshi Tabata, who was born in 1925. They also interviewed Mrs. Ai Araya, who was born in 1920, and her classmates, Ei Ogida, Chie Ogida, and Miya Tanaka. The interview was held at the home of Mrs. Araya’s daughter, who is the principal of Taro Daisan Elementary School. The principal presented the university students with a paperback entitled Sanriku Kaigan Otsunami [The Sanriku Coast Great Tsunami],3 which included an essay written by Ai immediately after the 1933 tsunami. After listening to the talks, which made a deep impression on them, the university students and the author of this paper climbed to the dike, which was called the “Great Walls,” and viewed the town from there. On March 11, 2011, almost half a year later, all the people the university students and the author met during the field trip were hit by the 2011 Sanriku tsunami. For the survivors of the Showa Sanriku tsunami, this was the second time they experienced a tsunami disaster. For these survivors, what did it mean to keep telling their experiences with the Showa Sanriku tsunami? What meaning did their second tsunami experience bring to their lives? The author will focus on Mrs. Tabata and Mrs. Araya, who talk openly of their Showa Sanriku tsunami experiences to the public. When Taro was merged with Miyako City in 2005, it changed its organization 160  

The Cases of Two Tsunami Storytellers   161  

Photo 7.1. Mrs. Tabata performing her tsunami picture story show. (Photograph by Tomoko Yamazaki)

for tsunami prevention. The Miyako municipal government’s Department of Risk Management took charge of overall disaster prevention. The officer who used to be in charge of disaster prevention in Taro was transferred to the Department of Risk Management in Miyako City. He took care of explaining relevant policies and management of the tsunami disaster prevention program at Taro for a while. However, when the officer was moved to another department, no one replaced him to explain the policies for tsunami prevention and talk about the history of tsunamis to university students who took the course “Approaches for Disaster Prevention Based on the Real Aspects of Tsunamis.” Nor was the class allowed to use one of the rooms at the Taro office for the field trip. For the course to continue, university staff looked for a place to conduct their field trip and asked Mrs. Tabata to perform her tsunami picture story show. Mrs. Tabata immediately accepted the request. The principal of Taro Daiichi Junior High School agreed to host the talk in their school gym and proposed to have their high school students join the university students in listening to Mrs. Tabata’s story. He also helped identify the mother of the principal of a neighboring school as another survivor of the Showa Sanriku tsunami, and she agreed to share her experience as well. The 2010 field trip was thus organized. The challenges faced in organizing the 2010 field trip showed the municipal government’s lack of sustained interest in tsunami disaster prevention, while the citizen-side and the school education–side actively continued their tsunami disaster

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prevention initiatives. The 2011 Sanriku tsunami caused such destruction that only a nation-level response—along with the local citizens’ own initiative and concerted efforts—could suffice.

Outline of Taro and the Tsunami-Related Damages It Suffered Earthquakes frequently occur in the sea off the Sanriku Coast in Iwate Prefecture. In addition, physiographically Sanriku has a ria coast. This feature creates a bay with a v-shaped mouth, which heightens the run-ups of tsunamis and in turn causes huge damages, to the point that the very existence of the communities along the coast is severely threatened, as happened in 1896 and 1933. During the Meiji Sanriku tsunami in 1896, there were only thirty-six survivors in Taro. A number of households lost all their members. Adoption was one strategy to continue the family system. Due to the small number of survivors, they found it challenging to continue to share their tsunami experiences with the succeeding generation. During the Showa Sanriku tsunami in 1933, a third of the villagers were victimized and the village itself was almost wiped out. The national government proposed to move the whole village to Mongolia, but the villagers refused and were determined to stay and to build a dike in order to protect the village from a tsunami disaster. Under the leadership of Mayor Matsutaro Sekiguchi, the villagers worked together Table 7.1. Damages to Taro Brought About by Tsunamis Meiji Sanriku Tsunami

Showa Sanriku Tsunami

Chile Earthquake

2011 Sanriku Tsunami

Date and time

07:40 June 15, 1896

02:30 March 3, 1933

04:11 May 24, 1960

14:46 March 11, 2011

Magnitude

7.5

8.5

9.5

9.0

Maximum of run-up

15 m

10 m

2-6.3 m

16.3 m

Dead and missing

1,859

911

0

193

Survivors

36

1820

N/A

3,758

Houses washed away

336

505

0

1,609a

Fishing boats lost

540

990

20

915b

Notes: a The number of the houses completely destroyed. b All the fishing boats registered to the Taro Fishing Association: 963 Source: The data were collected from the “Taro Town Guide” (2005) in terms of the earthquakes and tsunamis in Meiji, Showa, and Chili, and from the official police announcement (October 2011) on the Great East Japan Earthquake.

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to pool their donations and build a dike. The villagers who worked on the dike were paid. This helped them start becoming economically independent again, and they were all proud of the efforts they put into restoring their damaged village. Eventually, the national and prefectural governments put in additional resources for this project. In 1958, a U-shaped great dike measuring 1,350 meters long4 was completed. Mayor Sekiguchi5 was highly praised for his contribution to the restoration of Taro village and for creating the foundation of the current Taro town. In fact, a statue of the mayor is now displayed in the front yard of the Taro office. The villagers’ concerted efforts and the mayor’s dynamic leadership helped make the tsunami disaster prevention efforts in Taro well known to the world. In 1960, Taro experienced another tsunami, which was triggered by an earthquake in Chile, on the opposite side of the globe. That tsunami did not reach Taro’s dike, but it damaged twenty fishing boats docked at the port. It also killed many people in Ofunato City and in other neighboring towns. Thus, the national government decided to build dikes along the Sanriku Coast. In Taro, the new dike was completed in 1966, and it was extended to the mouth of River Tashiro. In 1978, all three dikes, measuring a total of 2,433 meters, were completed (Taro-Cho [1969] 2005). The newer dikes were built in a shape that looks like an inverted U at the sea side, and they were linked with the older dike in the center. Together, the dikes look like an X (see figure 6.2). Old residents of Taro call the old dike Bo Ro Tei [a dike for tsunami] and the new ones Bo Cho Tei [dikes for tide]. Mr. Yamazaki, a former officer engaged in tsunami disaster prevention at the Taro office, says, “The old dike was built with the idea of leading a tsunami into two ways along the dike, while the new ones were built on the concept of providing frontal protection from a tsunami.” He pointed out that this difference in ideas regarding a tsunami helped create differently shaped dikes. The former adheres to local knowledge, while the latter follows a national standard. The great tsunami of 2011 was so huge that its run-up was 16.3 meters. It even reached over forty meters. It broke a newer seaside dike, overcame the inner dike, and destroyed a large number of houses in the town. The district between the old and new dikes suffered severe damages. Everything was swept away after the seaside dike was broken. Nothing was left, not even the debris of broken houses. On the inland side of the surviving older dike, the structure helped catch things that could have otherwise flowed out to the open sea when the tsunami tried to ebb. Thus, some people were saved even though they were initially swallowed by the water. Dr. Kuroda6 listed the following five roles of a dike: “(1) The outside dike blocked the first wave of the tsunami; (2) A crowd of spray and columns of water generated by the tsunami that hit the dike warned residents of the attack of the tsunami; (3) The dike gave residents time to evacuate; (4) The dike prevented debris, wreckage, and remains from flowing out to the ocean; and (5) The dike kept residents aware of the need for tsunami prevention” (Kuroda 2011). These dikes were not designed to prevent tsunamis this large from overcoming them. This time, tremendously large tsunamis overcame the dikes, destroyed many

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Photo 7.2. The dikes before the 2011 tsunami. (Photograph by Tomoko Yamazaki)

Photo 7.3. A dike broken by the 2011 tsunami. (Photograph by Tomoko Yamazaki)

houses, and killed 193 people in the town. Still, the inner dike (the older one) was able to help save a large number of people. Since the people of Taro were counting on the dikes to save their lives, they were very shocked that a large number of lives were lost.7 Since marine production is the town’s main source of industry,8 the loss of 915 fishing boats out of 963 was quite damaging. New city planning and the restoration of the marine products industry were two urgent tasks that needed to be undertaken immediately.

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Mrs. Tabata Goes on to Tell Her Tsunami Experience Through Her Picture Story Show “Tsunami” Mrs. Tabata’s First Tsunami Experience Mrs. Yoshi Tabata, who was born in 1925, first experienced a tsunami when she was eight years old, in 1933. Her grandfather, Tomenosuke, was the only survivor of the Meiji Sanriku tsunami among his family. He often talked to his family about the horrors of a tsunami. This helped make his family very conscious about taking the necessary precautions in case a tsunami struck. This is one reason why the whole family was able to escape from the 1933 tsunami. However, Mrs. Tabata’s mother suffered a fatal injury to her legs and died three days after the tsunami. Her father was also injured on his waist. Her elder brother, who worked hard with the family during the restoration despite the lack of goods and resources, died of exhaustion several years later. Japan was in a state of war at that time. Despite her young age, Yoshi survived through all these hardships without showing her sorrow. Yoshi married when she was twenty-one years old. She had a son and two daughters. Whenever an earthquake would occur in the middle of the night, she would wake her children in a loud voice and evacuate with them. Her experience with the Showa Sanriku tsunami kept her vigilant in preparing her family for evacuation in case of an earthquake and a tsunami. March 3 is the memorial day of the Showa Sanriku tsunami. Every year, the members of the women’s association at Taro prayed in front of the epitaph and sang two songs—one was to grieve for the victims of the tsunami, and the other was to encourage themselves, the survivors, to go forward together. Although she did not talk about her tsunami experience, she kept those memories deep in her mind.

The Creation of the Picture Story Show “Tsunami”— “What Is Most Fearful Is That We Will Forget It” In 1979, her eldest child, Emiko, moved to Taro with her family because her husband transferred there. Her two grandchildren came with their parents. Since her grandchildren now lived along the Sanriku Coast, Mrs. Tabata made up her mind to let them know how fearful a tsunami is. With this intention on her mind, she created a picture story show, “Tsunami,” which is made up of ten pictures. She later performed her picture story show and talked about her tsunami experience not only to her grandchildren but also to the children in the community and to the students who visited Taro during their school field trips (see photo 7.4). She chose to tell her story through a picture story show so that children would read it over and over at home. For her long-term valuable contribution in raising safety awareness in the community, she was awarded the distinction of a Kaigan Koro Sha [Contributor to a Coastline] Award by the Zenkoku Kaigan Kyokai [National Association of Coastlines]. When asked why she continued to perform her picture story show for such a long time, she quoted her grandfather and answered: “My grandfather said that we, ourselves, are responsible for protecting our own town

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Photo 7.4. Students listening to Mrs. Araya at her home. (Photograph by Tomoko Yamazaki)

because the police and the governmental officials may be transferred in time. So, I think I should do my part in educating people about tsunamis, for what is most fearful is that we will forget about it.” Forty-six long years after the Showa Sanriku tsunami, Mrs. Tabata used the sorrow shut deep in her to drive her mission to save the lives of succeeding generations. Although her picture story show drew from her tsunami experience in 1933, many good lessons can be learned from her story and are still applicable today. Some of the good lessons are the importance of talking about previous tsunami experiences to the following generation (like her grandfather did) in order to keep the family informed and alert, the need for immediate evacuation after an earthquake, and the importance of tsunami-affected people helping each other after a tsunami. Mrs. Tabata’s younger sister, Kinu, was on her mother’s back at the time of the Showa Sanriku tsunami. According to Kinu, that is why she could not avoid a galvanized iron sheet that flew toward her and caused fatal injuries to her legs. Every villager who made heartfelt efforts to restore the village always had lingering thoughts of regret, gratitude, deep sorrow, and grief for the victims. “What should not be forgotten” is not only the fearfulness of a tsunami, but also the pride and resilience of the villagers of Taro who took steps forward with love of the people and nature of their hometown, despite the hardship.

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Mrs. Tabata’s Second Tsunami Experience On March 11, 2011, Mrs. Tabata, who was eighty-six years old, experienced another tsunami. She lost her house, some of her acquaintances, and her beautiful hometown. She survived a tsunami for the second time. Her sister, Kinu, who lived on higher ground in Taro, rushed to her house and warned her of the tsunami. Mrs. Tabata went in a hurry to Kinu’s house, where they witnessed the tsunami’s destructive effect on their hometown (see photo 7.5). Mrs. Tabata kept saying to the audience of her tsunami picture story show how fearful a tsunami is, but she could not imagine how destructive it could be. According to Kinu, “The sea rose up over the big rock by the mouth of the bay and proceeded inland as if it were a throng of people in a procession marching hand in hand during sports day. It rose up over the dike and came thundering down with a bang. The water then rushed toward the mountainside, logs rolled into the streets, and before one can blink, the water swallowed up the houses in the town.” Kinu expected many residents who lived in lower places to evacuate to higher ground, so she opened her house to welcome the survivors. About twenty people stayed at her home, which served as a temporary shelter for two months. She personally provided them with three meals every day. The school gym, which was designated as a public shelter, was very cold and she felt sorry for the people who lived there. Mrs. Tabata’s son from the neighboring prefecture of Aomori later came to bring her to his home.

Mrs. Tabata Resumes Her Performance of the Picture Story Show “Tsunami” to Show That She Will Never Be Defeated by a Tsunami Mrs. Tabata evacuated her house with only a bag of her personal belongings and valuables that she had prepared in advance. She was able to save her life, but she lost the house where she had lived and raised her family for a long time. It was difficult

Photo 7.5. The 1933 Taro tsunami as visualized by Mrs. Tabata. (Photograph by Tomoko Yamazaki)

168  Tomoko Yamazaki

to identify what was left of her house, and this left her brokenhearted. However, two months later, on May 23, she gathered her energy and resumed performing her tsunami picture story show at a charity concert held in the suburbs of Morioka City. Some people affected by the tsunami were invited to the concert. Before, it took her forty-six years to begin sharing her story with other people, but now it took her only two months. She also performed her picture story show in her hometown of Taro for the first time since the 2011 Sanriku tsunami. Her performance was held at the Taro Daisan Elementary School in September as part of a joint lecture with Iwate University. In Iwate Prefecture alone, there are nearly six thousand dead and missing. Each dead or missing person has their own family and friends who miss them dearly. Mrs. Tabata, who experienced the destruction of a tsunami twice, knows very well what each of them is going through. She resumed performing the picture story show to comfort them. Her message that “what is most fearful is that we will forget about it” remains, but she has also added the following message: “don’t forget to pray for the spirits of the tsunami victims.” More importantly, her action to quickly resume what she had been doing tells tsunami-affected people to never forget to live and to remain strong. If one looks at Mrs. Tabata’s drawing of the tsunami, one can sense the ferocious powers of the wild waves as they wash away a boat, a house, and a naked woman. Upon closer inspection, one will note that the woman is drawn with a tint of pink, which suggests Mrs. Tabata’s tender thoughts for the victims and her mother. Her determination reflects her conviction that people must never be beaten by a tsunami.

Tsunami Taro: My Life Living with Tsunamis After the tsunami, the author posed several questions to Mrs. Tabata and she responded with the following in a letter: My town used to have an infamous nickname, “Tsunami Taro” [Taro is the name of her hometown and a common boy’s name, although they are written differently in Chinese characters]. A great tsunami hit Taro in Meiji 29 [1896] and a great fire which started in the center of the town destroyed it in Taisho 15 [1925]. It seems that my grandparents and parents fought with disasters throughout their lives. My grandfather experienced both Meiji and Showa Sanriku tsunamis. I did not want to experience a tsunami twice in my lifetime like my grandfather but now I have. I first experienced it when I was eight years old and for the second time at eighty-six years old. My life has been intertwined with tsunamis. “Tsunami Taro” is a term people use to make fun of the town. Mrs. Tabata mentioned that some people called her hometown by its infamous nickname. For her, though her beloved hometown is exposed to the danger of tsunamis, it has managed to survive by successfully grappling with disaster prevention problems to overcome

The Cases of Two Tsunami Storytellers   169  

the world’s prejudice toward it. Her continued performance of the tsunami picture story show is her personal contribution to the collective effort to make the town safer and more comfortable. However, when the town was hit by a huge tsunami again, Mrs. Tabata’s and her fellow villagers’ confidence and pride in what they had achieved were shattered. She also said: “The residents of Taro Town were brought up to face the heavy seas and any storm that passes through one’s life. I think everyone worked very hard to restore the town and to give it an unyielding spirit. Each household donated some of their land to the town so as to make plaid-streets in the town. Evacuation routes leading to higher grounds were developed and built in every district. I used to feel very happy to live in such a comfortable town but I am now sad that it is gone.” She mentioned that the residents of Taro worked together to restore their town and developed strategies to mitigate the severe effects of a tsunami, which made them feel very proud of themselves. The residents of Taro have overcome being abused by the term “Tsunami Taro.” Now it signifies their determination and their strong bond with one another. Mrs. Tabata’s statement that “my life has been intertwined with tsunamis” shows that she has learned to accept and take pride in her hometown.

Mrs. Ai Araya and Her Essay: “And Finally, I Found Myself Left All Alone and an Orphan” Experience with the Showa Sanriku Tsunami and an Essay Mrs. Ai Araya was born in 1920 and experienced the Showa Sanriku tsunami in 1933, when she was a sixth grader. She lost her whole family during the tsunami. Her maiden name is Makino. The Makino family was wealthy, with businesses that dealt with abalones and kimonos. When the earthquake took place, Ai went out of the door of her house and waited for her family to join her in the evacuation. Before any of them came out, her family’s young maid took her by the hand and led her up the mountain. She thought that the other members of her family would come after her. While the other children eventually met up with their parents, Ai waited for a long time for her parents and other family members. She later found out that she was the sole survivor in her family. After that, according to Ai, she could not stop crying every mealtime because she would remember her father and mother. At school, her teacher handed her a paper and told her to write anything she wanted. Her essay had a sad ending where she wrote, “and finally, I found myself left all alone and an orphan.” At the time she wrote that, she echoed the feelings of many tsunami-affected people. Her essay caught the eyes of Akira Yoshimura, a novelist, who had been researching the history of the Sanriku Coast. He included Ai’s essay in his documentary entitled Sanriku Kaigan Otsunami [Sanriku Tsunami]. The book was read by tens of thousands of people. Through this book, Ai was able to go on telling her tsunami experience. The person who asked Ai to write the essay was her homeroom teacher. Ai’s daughter, who is now the principal of an elementary school, says it is beyond words

170  Tomoko Yamazaki

to imagine how sad the teacher was when he reached out to her and helped her face the bitter reality. He probably thought that telling Ai to write down her feelings could help Ai cope with her loss better. According to Ai, after she finished writing her essay, her teacher took her hands in his and cried with her. To this day, more than seventy years later, she can still recall his full name, Kohsuke Sasaki.

To Live as an Orphan: Going to the Hometown Where Her Friends Live Even after so many years have passed, Ai sometimes still cries out in her sleep because of what she experienced during the tsunami of 1933. Aside from battling loneliness as an orphan, she constantly grappled with questions, such as why she did not evacuate with her family. At the age of nineteen, after she completed her secondary education in Hokkaido, where she stayed at a relative’s home, she returned to Taro by herself because she still had friends there. When Ai returned to Taro, she met another important person who changed her life, Koni, who worked as a teacher at Taro. Koni was also an orphan who lost both his parents and his older brother during the Showa Sanriku tsunami. They eventually got married and had six children. Ai and three of her elementary school classmates are now more than ninety years old. They made it a habit to meet at Ai’s house every day to keep one another company, and in September 2010 they talked about their tsunami experiences to the students of Iwate University. Friends are truly invaluable.

Tsunami-nokori (Leftover of a Tsunami): A Fight Against Prejudices Ai calls herself and her husband “a couple of tsunami-nokori.” This local term does not mean “a person who lost his or her family because of a tsunami,” but instead “a person who deserted his or her family and survived a tsunami alone.” This Japanese expression includes a thinly veiled criticism directed toward survivors who lost their families. Although the situation of being an orphan was in itself difficult to endure, the unwarranted criticism for being a family’s sole survivor added insult to injury. For the orphans, this was unbearable. Ai and Koni continued living in their hometown, Taro. Koni later became the principal of Taro Daiichi Elementary School. Whenever an earthquake would take place, Ai would urge their children to evacuate to higher ground with a satchel on their back. Ai’s essay used to be broadcast on the radio every March 3, when Taro held a memorial event for the tsunami victims and conducted evacuation drills. This helped people realize the ongoing sorrow that a tsunami causes while giving them a strong sense of conviction to mitigate the sufferings caused by tsunamis. The essay written by “a leftover-of-a-tsunami” sent a powerful message from “a tsunami survivor” to the people who live in Taro.

Ai’s Second Experience with a Tsunami Ai experienced another calamity in 2011. Her house was washed away by the tsunami. Luckily for her, she was not at home when the tsunami hit the town. She was out visit-

The Cases of Two Tsunami Storytellers   171  

Photo 7.6. A joint lecture at the Taro Daisan Elementary School. (Photograph by Tomoko Yamazaki)

ing a daycare center for senior citizens located on another side of town. The house of Koni and Ai was very strongly built because they wished it would never be broken by a tsunami, but the 2011 tsunami broke it and only the skeletal structure of the house was not washed away. It remained a rare structure standing amid the debris. Ai’s family did not bring her to the destroyed town to go see what was left of her house. It was only after a month has passed by that Ai visited Taro. She immediately burst into tears when she saw the devastation, but this time her family and three close friends were all alright. For Ai’s family, taking care of her was now their primary concern. Four out of Ai’s six children became teachers. The youngest daughter, Eiko, is currently the principal of an elementary school in Taro. It was Eiko who dared to accept my request to let Mrs. Tabata resume her picture story show for the first time at an elementary school in her hometown after the latest tsunami (see photo 7.6). Eiko believes that providing the children in their hometown with the highest quality education is a mission of “tsunami survivors” handed down by their “parents who had survived a former tsunami.” The struggle of an orphan is no longer a lonely one.

Making Meaning of One’s Experience with a Tsunami The Struggle Against Division One feature of a disaster is the division it creates among people and/or things. In a tsunami-affected area, people tend to think that all the people living there were affected by the tsunami. In reality, people experience different degrees of damage from the tsunami. Those who are directly affected by the tsunami have different feelings and reactions toward the way they live and how to restore their town than do those who were not directly affected. Furthermore, damages to houses are classi-

172  Tomoko Yamazaki

fied into two categories: “completely destroyed” and “partially destroyed.” Partially destroyed houses are still impossible to live in, but the kinds of support and help one receives from the government depend on which category one belongs to. A woman living in a tsunami-affected area once told the author that she is a member of the community but does not want to be categorized as a tsunami-damaged person or as a non-tsunami-damaged person. These facts suggest that in a disaster, people try to divide themselves into different categories or groups. This kind of behavior can produce prejudices, such as “tsunami-nokori,” which in turn causes rifts in a community. The efforts of citizens like Mrs. Tabata and Mrs. Araya show that people living in disaster-affected areas can help create a local culture that overcomes these rifts and binds people together to make the community safer and more secure.

Acquiring the Philosophy Inochi Tendenko (A Life Is Saved by Each One) Tendenko is from the Tohoku dialect. It originally meant “individually.” This word has become popular in Japan when used in relation to safe evacuation from a tsunami. An independent tsunami researcher, Fumio Yamashita, coined the term tsunami tendenko, which means “surviving a tsunami by running away to higher grounds without stopping to worry about your family.” This kind of thinking tends to be perceived as selfish. However, it need not be perceived that way. Mrs. Tabata’s evacuation is one good example. Mrs. Tabata had always been well-prepared to evacuate whenever an earthquake happened. However, since Mrs. Tabata was very old and thus needed her younger sister’s help, they evacuated to higher ground early on and they went there in a speedy manner in order to guarantee both lives. In this way, their evacuation strategy was a mix of individual and collaborative efforts, which guaranteed that even an old lady was able to help herself. Mrs. Tabata adds inochi (life) to the word tendenko and comes up with the saying Inochi Tendenko to emphasize the value of life. According to her family, “This saying is not only a guide on how to escape from a tsunami, but also a good motto for life. It means that everyone should live such an independent life as to help each other.” Mrs. Tabata wrote in her letter that people who live in a town dubbed Tsunami Taro have unyielding spirits. Despite the uncertainties they face, they choose to live independently by keeping themselves aware of the severe effects of the natural environment and by creating a cooperative community. Mrs. Tabata showed how important it was to her “to keep on living” by resuming her performance of the tsunami picture story show soon after the latest tsunami disaster. Mrs. Araya’s family, for their part, continues to nurture the children in their community through education. Ryota Kato, a student at Taro Daiichi Junior High School who listened to Mrs. Tabata’s picture story show during the joint lecture in 2010, wrote an essay for a contest entitled “My Opinion.” In his essay, he expressed his feelings about the tsunami disaster. According to him, he felt uneasy even after he evacuated to his grandparents’ house. He kept thinking that there might be others who are still alive. So, he

The Cases of Two Tsunami Storytellers   173  

accompanied his father, a member of the independent fire fighting team, to look for survivors. While walking among the debris, he kept thinking of two things. One was the significance of the saying Inochi Tendenko, as it suggests that life is more valuable than anything else. The other is that “a strong will can never suffer defeat.” For him, the saying sums up the spirit of the citizens of Taro who had suffered many times from tsunami disasters. The citizens of Taro had time and time again overcome their hardships, and their determination and resilience against sufferings are now passed on to the younger generation.

Conclusion Derogatory terms like Tsunami Taro and tsunami-nokori (leftover of a tsunami) show that people living in an area frequently hit by tsunamis are not only exposed to physical threats but also to social prejudices. Despite these, the people have acquired a new philosophy toward living, which is to live tendenko, or independently, so as to help each other and to save valuable lives. For some of the survivors, the act of sharing their tsunami experiences not only helps educate people on what to do during a tsunami, but also helps address social prejudices. More importantly, it is a way for the past to link with the present and future generations of people who choose to live in such areas. For the two storytellers featured in this article, they embody the meaning of Inochi Tendenko.

Acknowledgments I would like to express my deep gratitude to the people who survived the latest tsunami at Taro and talked openly with me about their experiences. Emiko Takahashi (the daughter of Mrs. Tabata) and Eiko Araya (the daughter of Mrs. Ai Araya), who were of great help to my research, should be given my sincere thanks. I am also thankful to my friend Yvette Tan very much. She helped proofread my English when I wrote this paper and translated Mrs. Tabata’s tsunami picture story show. Most of all, I hope the people damaged by the latest tsunami will be able to have a safer and more comfortable time as soon as possible, from the bottom of my heart.

Notes 1. Taro Town was merged with Miyako City in 2005. 2. Geography professor Dr. Kenji Yamazaki designed the course. Dr. Shigeki Sakai, an expert in port engineering, and Tomoko Yamazaki, a professor in English education, gave lectures as part of the course. 3. It was written by Akira Yoshimura and was first published as Umi no Kabe [Sea Wall] by Chuko Shinsho in 1970. It was revised in 1984 as Sanriku Kaigan Otsunami [The Sanriku Coast Great Tsunami] by Chuko Bunko. It was republished by Bunshun Bunko in 2004 with the same title. 4. The height of the dike is 7.7 meters (10.65 meters above sea level). The maximum width of the bottom of the dike is twenty-five meters, and that of the top is three meters. 5. Four years after the tsunami, the mayor fell down from illness in his office and later passed away.

174  Tomoko Yamazaki 6. Dr. Kuroda is the director of the Taro Clinic, operated by Miyako City. At the time of the 2011 Sanriku tsunami, he held an inquest over all the corpses of the victims in Taro. The clinic was also damaged by the tsunami. An interview with him was printed in the book Kyumei—Higashinihon Dai Shinsai, Ishitachi no funto [Saving Lives: The Great East Japan Earthquake and Doctors’ Struggle]. 7. Most of the trees planted more than seventy years earlier to help with tsunami mitigation fell during the huge tsunami. The fallen trees caused additional damages when they hit houses. Burning houses and cars were carried to the mountains, which in turn caused additional fires. Thus, people also had to escape from fires. 8. Abalones, urchins, and seaweeds from Taro are especially famous. The seaweed is quite well known under the brand name “Masaki Wakame.”

References Kuroda, Jin, supervised by Takeru Kaido. 2011. “Kanja san to hanashiteiruto jibun made iyasaremasu” [I Feel Comforted, Talking with Patients]. In Kyumei—Higashinihon Dai Shinsai, Ishatachi no funto [Saving Lives: The East Japan Great Earthquake and Doctors’ Struggle]. Tokyo: Shincho-sha. National Institute for Educational Policy and the Miyako City Board of Education, ed. 2012. Higashinohon Daisinsai to Kyoiku Fukko [The Great East Japan Disaster and the Renascence of Education]. Tokyo: Yukodo. Tabata, Yoshi, supervised by Tomoko Yamazaki. 2011. Obaachan no Kamishibai Tsunami [Grandma’s Picture Story Show Tsunami]. Tokyo: Sankei Shimbun Shuppan. Taro-cho [Taro Municipal Government]. (1969) 2005. Chiiki Gaido—Tsunami to Bosai— Kataritsugu Taiken [Tsunami Guide—Tsunami and Disaster Prevention—Keep Telling the Experiences]. Taro, Japan: Taro-cho. Yamashita, Fumio. 2008. Tsunami to Bosai [Tsunami and Disaster Prevention]. Tokyo: Kokon Shoin, 21–22. Yamazaki, Kenji. 2011. “Inochi Tendenko no Jissen—Naniga jido seito no inochi wo sukuttaka, gensai kyoiku no susume” [Practice of Inochi Tendenko—What Saved the Students of Elementary and Junior High Schools from the Tsunami? A Suggestion to Education for Decreasing the Damages from a Disaster]. Presentation at the Association of Japan Geography Education, Sapporo School, Hokkaido Normal University. Yamazaki, Kenji, and Tomoko Yamazaki. 2009. “Tsunami Disaster and Measures of Mitigation: A Comparison of Two Cases in Seenigama, Sri Lanka, and Taro, Japan.” In Natural Hazards and Disasters: Essays on Impacts and Management, 47–68. Anantapur, India: Department of Geography, Sri Krishnadevaraya University. Yamazaki, Tomoko. 2011. “Tsunami taiken wo kousei ni tsutaeru tameni—tsunami bosaibunka no keisei to karikyuramuka” [In Order to Let the Following Generations Know the Tsunami Experiences—Creation of Tsunami Prevention Culture and Putting It into the Curriculum of the School]. In Kyoiku Tenbo [The Survey of Education], September 2011. Tokyo: Kyoiku Chosa Kenkyusho [The Education Research Institute]. ———. 2012. Inochi Tendenko no Kataritsugi—Tabata Yoshi san no Kamishibai Tsunami [Keep Telling Inochi Tendenko—Mrs. Tabata’s Tsunami Picture Story Show]. In Kikan Tohokugaku [Tohokology Quarterly], vol. 30. Tokyo: Kashiwa Shobo, 79–90. Yoshimura, Akira. 2004. Sanriku Kaigan Otsunami [The Great Tsunami on the Sanriku Coast]. Tokyo: Chukou Bunko, 145–152.

8

Agricultural Damage in the Sendai Plain and the Road to Recovery Ryohei Sekine The videos of the 3/11 tsunami and the explosions at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant that were televised all over the world in real time gave people a shock. However, people of Sendai City, including the author, only learned of the tsunami later, because of the power blackout. The waves of black water destroyed houses and agricultural land, and caused a fire. In the Sendai Plain, the tsunami barrier was not high enough, and the tsunami flooded the plain, unlike the northern coastal area of Miyagi Prefecture. The Sendai Plain was used for agricultural production, in particular for rice paddies, while Sendai City rapidly expanded after Japan’s high economic growth period. In Sendai, urban residential development expanded in the western hilly region, and in the east up to the seashore. The paddy fields were left intact. Paddies allowed the sea wind to flow into the built-up area of Sendai, contributing to a relaxation of the island heat (Sakaida, Egoshi, and Kuramochi 2011). In addition to destroying the residences, the 3/11 tsunami destroyed the splendid countryside adjacent to the built-up area. This study clarifies agricultural regionality among municipalities located in the Sendai Plain that suffered serious damage from the tsunami. The municipalities included in this study are Sendai City, Natori City, Iwanuma City, Watari Town, and Yamamoto Town, located on the southern coast of Miyagi Prefecture. In addition, it clarifies damages of the March 11 tsunami. Further, it discusses issues occurring in the movement for agricultural restoration/revival. The data of the steep-water area of the tsunami were drawn up by the Association of Japanese Geographers (AJG).

Agricultural Regionality in the Southern Coastal Area of Miyagi Prefecture Table 8.1 shows the area of the agricultural land that washed away or was flooded in six prefectures that suffered from the tsunami, as estimated by the Japan Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries. The largest area of the flooded agricultural land was in Miyagi Prefecture. The northern part of the coastal area of Miyagi Prefecture has little level ground for farming; therefore, fishery is the primary industry, and agricultural production is meager. On the other hand, in the southern part there was no large fishery harbor, and agriculture played a key role as the primary industry. 175  

176  Ryohei Sekine Table 8.1. Estimated Area of Damaged Agricultural Land in Six Prefectures

Source: Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries.

Figure 8.1 shows the cultivated area according to the ex-municipality. Ex-municipality is an administrative boundary before a merger carried out nationwide from 1950s through 1960s in Japan, and it is the statistical unit that is popular in Japanese agricultural statistics. However, the consumption of rice decreased through the 2000s, and the decline in the price of rice became remarkable. Therefore, it became necessary for many areas of the Tohoku district to produce agricultural commodities besides rice, and the Sendai Plain area was no exception. Figure 8.2 shows areas cultivating crops other than rice, and one can see a difference between south and north in the study area. That is to say, in the northern portion close to the built-up area of Sendai, open-field vegetable cultivation amounts to half or more of the farmland. In contrast, in the southern area, greenhouse cultivation of vegetables is significant. There are ex-municipalities that are important in cultivation of wheat, beans, and ornamental flowers. Of these, wheat and beans are alternative crops by the rice production adjustment policy mentioned above. As for the beans, the majority are soybeans. Moreover, the area devoted to greenhouse vegetables is wide in the southern ex-municipalities. These products of the greenhouse culture include strawberries. This area was the largest strawberry growing center in the Tohoku region. Table 8.2 shows the production according to the description of the agricultural commodity in Watari Town and Yamamoto Town. The agricultural commodities produced in this area were shipped to Sendai and the Tokyo metropolitan area, and the strawberries in particular got high valuation in the Hokkaido market, with a little competition from other growing centers (Koganezawa 2006). That is to say, diverse agriculture, with rice production combined with produce and soybeans, has been important in the Sendai Plain.

Figure 8.1. Sendai Plain: Tsunami Damage Area and Agricultural Land Use.

Figure 8.2. Sendai Plain: Tsunami Damage Area and Cultivated Land Except Rice.

Agricultural Damage in the Sendai Plain and the Road to Recovery   179   Table 8.2. Amount of Production According to the Item of Agricultural Commodity in Watari Town and Yamamoto Town (2006) Watari Yamamoto Output Output Item Item (10 million yen) (10 million yen) 151 Strawberry 279 Strawberry 107 Rice 239 Rice 10 Apple 23 Shungiku (spring X Chicken chrysanthemum) 5 Beef 17 Raw milk 4 Raw milk 13 Kiku X Egg (chrysanthemum) 3 String beans 11 Apple 2 Shungiku (spring 8 Tomato chrysanthemum) 7 Beef 2 Garlic chive 7 Cucumber (Allium tuberosum) X Chicken X: Concealed value: Source: Miyagi Prefecture

Damage from the 2011 Sanriku Coast Tsunami Figure 8.3 shows the estimated areas of agricultural land in the municipalities of Miyagi Prefecture that were washed away or damaged by overhead flooding during the March 11 tsunami. In addition to the Sendai municipality, which is the focus of this study, the damaged areas were significant in Ishinomaki City and Higashi Matsushima City, which are also located in the Sendai Plain. Flooded area (ha)

Damaged ratio (%)

100

9

90

8

80

7

70

6

60

5

50

4

40

3

30

2

20

1

10

0

0

Municipality

Percent

Cultivated area (ha)

K M ese in nn am u is ma Ish anr H in iku ig as O om hi n ak M ag i at aw M sush a at im su sh a im a Sh Ri f io u ga Sh T ma ic aga hi jy ga o ha m Se a nd N ai Iw ato an ri um a Ya Wa m tar am i ot o

Hectares (1,000s)

10

Figure 8.3. Estimated Area of Damaged Agricultural Land in Miyagi Prefecture by Municipality.

180  Ryohei Sekine Table 8.3. Damage to Agriculture in Miyagi Prefecture Number

Detail

Amount of damage (1,000 yen) (provisional)

Agricultural land/agricultural facility

794

Destruction of irrigation canal and drainage, and the flood of agricultural land

368,980,760

Facilities related to agriculture

22,050

Destruction of agricultural warehouse and country elevator

28,524,751

Agricultural machinery

14,160

Tractor, combine harvester, rice transplanter, and drying machine, etc.

43,460,000

Strawberry, vegetables, wheat, flowers, etc.

2,612,850

20,620

Runoff or flood of rice, soybean, etc.

3,929,000

Facility related to wastewater system

21

Destruction of wastewater facilities

15,085,000

Seashore facilities to preserve farmland

102

Destruction of seashore tide embankment

24,532,150

Farm products (ha) Farm products (t)

891

Source: Miyagi Prefecture.

Some researchers pointed out that massive tsunamis had struck in the Sendai Plain in the past. However, high tsunami barriers were not built. Rather, a highway built at a higher elevation was intended to prevent a tsunami from going up into the study area. Table 8.3 shows the status of the agriculture-related damage in Miyagi Prefecture. The tsunami destroyed all farming canals, machinery, and warehouses, as well as agricultural land. The debris was gathered in temporary storage zones set

Photo 8.1. Debris drifted to a paddy field in Sendai. (Photograph by Ryohei Sekine)

Agricultural Damage in the Sendai Plain and the Road to Recovery   181  

Photo 8.2. Debris settled around greenhouses in Natori City. (Photograph by Ryohei Sekine)

up by every municipality. In the eye of the law, the disposal of debris was to be carried out by each municipality. Therefore, in the early period, the restoration of the temporary storage zone was extremely difficult for the small municipalities. Later on the prefectural government helped with the disposal of debris (see photos 8.1 and 8.2). In addition, desalinization was carried out after the debris disposal. The government of Sendai City announced the scheme to finish desalinization and get the land ready for planting by 2014 in cooperation with the Miyagi prefectural government and Japan Agricultural Cooperative’s JA-Sendai (see figure 8.4). However, the restoration of facilities for raising seedlings, the rebuilding of irrigation canals, and the reconstruction of the drainage system were not in sight. The mechanization of farm operations in Japan requires that each farmer be equipped with farm machinery. Public support for this is weak. Therefore, based on interviews with farmers, farming is not likely to be possible even after agricultural land is restored. The mood of citizens in the disaster area to use agricultural commodities was positive. However, the impact of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant accident changed that view. According to inhabitants of western Japan, Sendai Plain is located in “the neighborhood” of the nuclear power plant. Even some inhabitants of Tohoku district view the area that way (Sekine et al. 2011). Therefore, there is a threat that the agricultural commodities produced in this area may not sell even if the farmland is restored.

Administrative Authorities and Farmers: Two Agricultural Revival Plans The municipalities made a revival plan for agriculture in February 2012. In the case of Sendai City, the main urban functions had few damages, unlike other munici-

182  Ryohei Sekine

Figure 8.4. Planned Year to Restart Planting in Sendai.

palities of Miyagi Prefecture. The tsunami damage was profound in the suburban agricultural zone of the coastal area; therefore, the revival plan features the theme of “regrowth of agriculture.” Figures 8.5 and 8.6 show details planned in the scheme. The main points are as follows: desalinization of the agricultural land and restoration of the water supply/drainage; preparation of large plots of the field; acceleration of the agricultural group management; entry of private enterprise; and enhancement of the connection with the processing/marketing division called “the sixth industrialization.” In addition, the major road (the Shiogama-Watari Line prefectural road) is to be built up to a higher elevation, which will allow it to also serve as a breakwater against future tsunamis. This area suffered from the tsunami and is labeled “Agricultural and Food Frontier Zone” in figure 8.6. Beyond these broad strokes, the scheme does not show definite details. On the other hand, what kind of future do local farmers envision regarding agricultural revival, and what kind of support do they expect for it? The following

Agricultural Damage in the Sendai Plain and the Road to Recovery   183  

Figure 8.5. Sendai City: Agriculture Revitalization Plan.

data are based on the questionnaire survey “The Agricultural Disaster Revival Liaison Meeting of Eastern Sendai Area,” which Sendai City, JA-Sendai, and the land improvement district jointly performed for 585 farmers who suffered from the tsunami. The aim of this organization is to share information between the agricultural association and the administration, and then accelerate the recovery of the area. The contents are considered in detail in Kogasaka (2011). Figure 8.7 shows farmers’ intentions about their future in farming, according to the age of the farmers. Most of the farmers in this area are in their fifties and sixties, and farmers under thirty years old are extremely few. The majority of the farmers intend to reduce the size of their business. The number of farmers who want to expand the size of their agricultural businesses in the future remains small. The issue is already clear. There is a large divergence between administrative authorities and farmers in their thinking about the revival of agriculture. In Japan, particularly in the Tohoku region, many small, part-time farm households are involved in agricultural production (Sekine 1998). During the 2000s, the generation that shouldered agriculture aged in a part-time farm household. At the same time, the price of agricultural commodities declined. However, the expansion of the scale and the reduction of the cost did not progress very much; the downslide of the agricultural position in the regional economies became the issue (Sasaki 2009). The details of the “revival” plan of Sendai City are similar to the scheme for agricultural development in many other municipalities that did not suffer from the tsunami. This

r Rive ita ak an N

ay ilw ra

railway

Port area special reconstruction zone

Gamou Tidal Flats

Urb a Urb n Zone Con anizat trol ion Zon Minami Gamou e Purification Center

Agricultural and food frontier zone

Seaside exchange/revitalization zone

Teizan Canal

Port area special reconstruction zone

Sh io ga m a-

er

Wa ta

iv

iR

ri L

or

at

in e

N

p re

fe c

Sen

tu r

al

dai-

ro a

d

Tob u

Roa

d

Area for study on diverse farmland use

Agriculture and food frontier zone Area for study on diverse farmland use Idoura

Seaside exchange/revitalization zone

Number of Farmers

Figure 8.6. Sendai City: Disaster Reconstruction Plan.

200 180 160 140 120 100 80 60 40 20 0

Not clear/no answer Give up Preservation of circumstances prior to 3/11 Reduction of the size of business Expansion of the size of business

20s

30s

40s

50s

60s

Age

70s

80s

Not clear

Figure 8.7. Sendai Plain: Views about Future Farming According to Age.

Agricultural Damage in the Sendai Plain and the Road to Recovery   185  

plan is a strategy to switch Japanese agriculture to private industry. There is indication that the administrative authority intends to solve a pending problem under the cover of confusion from the tsunami, and to let private companies enter agriculture. Many farmers regard a return to the circumstances before 3/11 as a “revival.” The administrative authorities must show a definite strategy to achieve a recovery plan. If the presentation of their strategy is late, the farmers face a lot of future uneasiness in addition to current uneasiness. That is to say, the March 11 tsunami highlighted not only agricultural issues, but also the issue of the agricultural policy of Japan.

Note 1. The governmental office of Sendai City shows the English version of the revival plan on a website: http://www.city.sendai.jp/shinsai/shinsaihukkokentou/pdf/keikakushiryou/ plan%20English.pdf.

References Koganezawa, T. 2006. “Tohoku chiho ni okeru nogyo chiiki no hendo” [Changes of Agricultural Region in the Tohoku District]. Bulletin of Miyagi University of Education 41:17–32. Kogasaka, Y. 2011. “Sendai nokyo kannai ni okeru higashinihondaishinsai no genjyo oyobi chokumen suru kadai” [Status Quo of the East Japan Great Earthquake Disaster and Theme to Confront in Sendai Agricultural Cooperative]. Nouson to toshi wo musubu [Link the City to the Farm Village] 11:29–41. Sakaida, K., A. Egoshi, and M. Kuramochi. 2011. “Sendai no hiito irando to kaifu no eikyo” [Effects of Sea Breezes on Mitigating Urban Heat Island Phenomenon: Vertical Observation Results in the Urban Center of Sendai]. Journal of Geography 120 (2): 382–391. Sasaki, T. 2009. “Miyagiken Watari-cho ni okeru nogyo tokusei to fukugo keiei no saihen” [Reorganization of Diversified Farming and Agricultural Characteristics in Watari-Town, Miyagi Prefecture]. Quarterly Journal of Geography 61 (1): 1–18. Sekine, R. 1998. “Fukushimaken Takasato mura ni okeru kengyoka purosesu to nokaseta-in no shugyo jyokyo” [The Maintenance of Farm Households by Non-Agricultural Employment—A Case Study in Takasato-mura, Fukushima Prefecture, Northeastern Japan]. Human Geography 50 (6): 1–21. Sekine, R., Y. Hidaka, K. Asai, and T. Tada. 2011. “Higashi nihon daishinsai iko no Fukushimaken Aizu chiho ni okeru shokuryo seisan, ryutsu, kadai—omoni yasai to nyuseihin ni chumoku shite-” [Production, Supply and Consumption of Food Just After East Japan Great Earthquake Disaster in Aizu Region, Fukushima Prefecture, Japan]. Proceedings of the General Meeting of the Association of Japanese Geographers 80:92.

Part 2

Nuclear Radiation Crisis Living with Radiation

9

Ramifications of the Fukushima Nuclear Disaster Toward the End of the “Peaceful Atom”? Jonathan Taylor One year after the Fukushima nuclear disaster it seemed that Japan’s long love affair with “the peaceful atom” had come to an inglorious end. At the time of this writing, all of Japan’s fifty-five nuclear power plants are offline, a net loss of 47,000 megawatts of generating power—almost 30 percent of the country’s electricity. In July 2012 Kansai Electric resumed operations at two reactors at their Oi plant, but they were shut down two months later and no other restarts were planned until a new nuclear regulatory agency designed new regulations. The nuclear power industry, fearful that Japan’s citizens would never accept the reactors being turned on again once they had survived a summer with no nuclear power, was temporarily successful in securing the Oi restarts. Similarly, the anti-nuclear movement’s main priority was to prevent any restarts at all (Nuke Info Tokyo 2012). But to a scarred and wary public, anything beyond partial and temporary restarts of now dormant reactors may prove unacceptable. Much like nuclear power itself, the political situation in regard to nuclear power is unstable and fraught with peril. Since the Fukushima disaster, the public justifiably holds both the government and all public and private institutions connected with the nuclear power industry in deep distrust. Polls published in the Tokyo Shimbun and Asahi Shimbun in March 2012 indicated overwhelming support for fully phasing out nuclear power from Japan’s energy blend, and a poll from April 2012 indicated 55 percent opposition to restarting the Oi reactors in the Kansai region, while 70 percent did not trust the Japanese government’s safety standards for nuclear power production (Reuters 2012, Asahi Shimbun 2012). Nonetheless, after the electoral victory of the heavily pro-nuclear Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) and Shinzo Abe as prime minister in December 2012, the short-term future of nuclear power in Japan is again heavily contested. The longer-term prospects for nuclear power seemed bleak before the election, but the LDP’s strong resurgence and calls for a return to engaging with nuclear power by Keidanren (Japanese Business Federation) and the Federation of Electric Power Companies may have altered the equation. Internationally, the situation is similarly uncertain. While nuclear energy production is still slated to increase in 189  

190  Jonathan Taylor

some countries, particularly China, the ramifications of Fukushima and the reminder of the threat nuclear power poses to nothing less than human civilization suggests that the optimism of the so-called Nuclear Renaissance of the 2000s is now over. And certainly Japan’s status as a “Plutonium Superpower” (McCormack 2007) looks to be coming to an abrupt, if still contested, end. This turnaround would have been unthinkable before the tsunami and the resulting nuclear accident. In fact, no other country was pursuing a nuclear policy, including fast breeder reactors, as dedicatedly as Japan (Graham 2011). These plans have been scaled down substantially, and Japan’s emphasis is currently on restarting plants shut down after the Fukushima disaster. Internationally, the still ongoing Fukushima disaster has enormous ramifications for nuclear prospects for a host of other countries and for the future of nuclear power in general. In this chapter, I contrast Japan’s nuclear ambitions before and after Fukushima, and discuss the likely future situation of nuclear power and its alternatives in Japan. I also briefly discuss other international effects of the Fukushima nuclear disaster.

Energy Security and the Nuclear State (Genpatsu Mura) Despite being the third largest economy in the world, Japan is among the world’s most resource-poor industrialized countries. Japan’s domestic oil supply accounts for only 0.4 percent of its oil consumption (Koike et al. 2008), and overall Japan imports 84 percent of its energy needs (World Nuclear Association 2012). Japan is the third leading oil consumer in the world, and the number two importer behind the United States. Thus, almost completely dependent upon imports, Japan has pursued dramatic foreign policies to avoid resource shortages, and its imperialist past can be looked at in part as an effort to acquire necessary resources, particularly oil (Kelly 2005). Contemporarily, despite policies designed to ease its dependence, Japan is still one of the most heavily oil-dependent countries in the world, with a major dependence upon Middle Eastern oil supplies. A strong investment in nuclear energy has also meant that Japan has suffered the opportunity costs of a concomitant lack of investment in renewable energy, which makes up a negligible proportion of its electricity production blend. According to the IEA (2011), in 2008 wind power accounted for 0.24 percent of production, and photovoltaic only 0.21 percent. Resource poverty can create both benefits and drawbacks. In Japan’s case, the drawbacks of lack of energy independence were best illustrated by the economic chaos that prevailed during the oil shock of 1973, in which oil prices quadrupled, triggering a rapid drop in corporate profits, large increases in unemployment, and rapid rises in both wholesale and consumer prices (Tsuru 1993). The main benefits that accrued were Japan’s innovation in energy efficiency, which continues to improve to this day. Still, no matter how energy efficient it has become, Japan has to consider diverse sources of energy for electric power generation and transportation. Since the 1950s, nuclear power has been an integral piece of Japan’s energy blend. In 2009, roughly 27 percent of Japan’s overall energy generation came from nuclear power, with another 27 percent coming from coal, and another 27 percent from

Ramifications of the Fukushima Nuclear Disaster   191  

gas. Another 7 percent came from hydropower, and 9 percent came from oil, with the remaining and very tiny proportion coming from solar, wind, and geothermal (World Nuclear Association 2012). The development of nuclear power was a major centerpiece of Japan’s energy policy from 1955 on (see Suganuma, chapter 10 in this volume). Nuclear energy began its diffusion outward from the United States in 1953 after President Dwight Eisenhower’s “Atoms for Peace” speech at the United Nations. Japan signed on quickly, passing the Atomic Energy Basic Law in 1955, and its first plant, Tokai-1, was operational in 1966 (Graham 2011; Valentine and Sovacool 2010). Part of the appeal of nuclear power was undoubtedly the freedom from dependence on foreign oil from the Middle East, proven unreliable and dangerous by the oil shock, and nuclear power became more broadly accepted by policymakers during the 1970s. But pressure from the United States and the CIA’s payments to influence politicians in Japan’s LDP also played a major role. Another factor was the suppression of opposition to nuclear power engendered by LDP political dominance and control over the media and academy (Valentine and Sovacool 2010). Facilitating the extraordinary investment of public money into nuclear projects was the doken kokka, or construction state—a system comprised of politicians and bureaucrats, banks and financiers, and construction firms (McCormack 2002). Nuclear programs and facilities were an integral part of this system, leading some to adopt the term genpatsu mura (nuclear village) to describe the network of academics, government scientists, bureaucrats, TEPCO and other utility officials, and media opinion-makers who promoted nuclear power in Japan. As an example of the incestuous relationship between power utilities and the bureaucracy “over the last 50 years, more than 68 high-ranking officials in the central government have taken executive positions in one of the nine major power companies after retiring from public service” (Nakamura and Kikuchi 2011). Similarly, the government utilized the media to boost nuclear power, funded nuclear power construction and nuclear research, and passed numerous laws bolstering local and prefectural governments that hosted nuclear facilities (Nakata 2011). This system perpetuated the lax regulation and supervision of Japan’s aging nuclear plants. In addition, large components of the nuclear program were conducted under the paradigm of concealment: of nuclear accidents and incidents, and of the very real risks and safety issues that Japan’s nuclear industry and its purported government watchdogs systematically hid or underreported (McCormack 2011).

Nuclear Risks and Protests The history of Japan’s nuclear power industry is marked by the dichotomy of government, academic, and media boosterism paired against accidents, ongoing safety concerns, and the cover-up of nuclear failures and their consequences. Japan’s nuclear workers, generally ill-equipped and undertrained Genpatsu Jipushii (nuclear power plant gypsies) recruited from slums and buraku areas, suffered a disproportionate share of the damage (Miura 2000). As early as 1977 it was reported that seventy-five nuclear power plant workers had died of radiation-related cancers (Kazuko 1980).

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Workers reportedly were routinely irradiated and were unable or unwilling to form unions to lobby for safer working conditions. Nonetheless, the anti-nuclear movement in Japan lagged behind other Japanese environmental movements. Anti-nuclear sentiments in Japan must be looked at within the context of Japan’s general experience of environmentalism. After one of the worst environmental crises in the industrial world (i.e., Minamata disease), grassroots movements led to the development of stringent environmental protections and a massive cleanup effort from the late 1960s onward. This movement focused predominantly on health hazards to human victims of environmental pollution. Because radiation from nuclear facilities affected few people (or was perceived to affect only a few), it was not as prominent an area of environmental protest as other types of industrial pollution (Avenell 2012). Since its beginning, opposition to the development of nuclear energy played some role in slowing Japan’s ambitious nuclear energy program, but this opposition was never as intense as anti-nuclear movements in the United States or Europe. Japan’s anti-nuclear movement initially coalesced around the nuclear bomb attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the Lucky Dragon incident of 1954 in which a fishing vessel was inundated with fallout from a U.S. military nuclear test in the South Pacific (Aldrich 2012). At this early time the anti-nuclear movement was comprised largely of leftist political parties and trade unions, who tried to establish a linkage between nuclear energy and nuclear weapons to play on fears of nuclear war (Hasegawa 2011). Following the oil shocks, anti-nuclear protests became largely local, focusing on rural site selection issues, with fishermen and farmers leading the way. These protests tended to slow, but not stop construction. Local support was shored up by government subsidies that accompanied plant sitings. But after Chernobyl, antinuclear sentiments broadened and deepened. A newer grassroots movement composed largely of educated housewives emerged to protest against nuclear power, and hitherto scattered groups began to coalesce (Dauvergne 1993). Protests also emerged around Japan’s fast breeder program, especially the stockpiling of plutonium around the Monju prototype fast breeder reactor and the Rokkasho reprocessing facility (Hasegawa 2011). These protests have been successful in preventing the siting and construction of new reactors and in slowing or halting the construction of nuclear waste facilities. However, they were not historically successful in persuading Japan to move away from its overall nuclear ambitions. Most anti-nuclear campaigns in Japan have been met by what longtime activist Aileen Mioko-Smith (2011) described as “government stonewalling, utility company lying, and media smugness and blindness,” until Fukushima. Despite Japan’s continuing pursuit of its nuclear power goals, the anti-nuclear movement has had some success in slowing nuclear development. Before 1975, Japanese planners had set a target of 60 million kilowatts of generating capacity to be achieved by 1980; however, local opposition to the construction of nuclear plants slowed this process, and by 1988 only 28.9 million kilowatts of capacity had been attained (Tsuru 1993, 153). The peak of the anti-nuclear movement before Fukushima may have been in 1988, when activists submitted 3.6 million signatures in support

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of a law banning nuclear energy production in Japan (Mioko-Smith 2011). Specific organizations such as the Citizens Nuclear Information Center serve as hubs for antinuclear movements, and their reports have also been among the most vital sources of information on the Fukushima disaster. Nonetheless, nuclear energy was far too well-entrenched into the Japanese state and corporate infrastructure to suffer many adverse consequences from public protests—until the Fukushima disaster. Yet the Fukushima disaster did not come without warning. Perceived threats to public safety posed by Japan’s nuclear plants could be caused by a variety of factors, including earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanic eruptions; accidents due to human error or design flaws in plants; and attacks on Japan’s nuclear facilities due to external military threats. In 1994, fears of North Korean development of nuclear weapons precipitated U.S. consideration of a military attack against the “rogue state.” One area of concern for Japan was the safety of its twenty-five nuclear plants on the coast of the Sea of Japan (Funabashi 1999). In terms of general safety, the Hamaoka reactors, located in Shizuoka Prefecture between Tokyo and Osaka, are of particular concern. If hit by an event of Fukushima’s intensity, this could lead to the evacuation of 30 million people (Mioko-Smith 2011), and the reactors were only designed to withstand earthquakes of up to 8.5 magnitude (McCormack 2011). The Hamaoka reactors leaked radiation when struck by an earthquake in August 2009 (Nuke Info Tokyo 2009). Then–Prime Minister Naoto Kan requested that these reactors be shut down in May 2011. Other reactors have also been affected by seismic activity. The July 2007 Chuetsu-oki earthquake caused a radioactive leak in the Kashiwazaki Kariwa plant in Niigata Prefecture. The Citizens Nuclear Information Center essentially predicted the Fukushima disaster well in advance, but their warnings were ignored by policymakers, the utilities running the plants, and the press (Avenell 2012). Japan has also experienced a number of serious nuclear accidents not associated with seismic activity, such as the 1999 accident at the JCO Uranium Conversion Plant at Tokaimura, in which two workers were exposed to extremely high radiation doses that subsequently killed them. The Monju reactor has suffered several serious accidents, the first of which occurred in 1995 and shut it down for over fourteen years (Nuke Info Tokyo 2010). All of these accidents were of course dwarfed by the tremendous scale and scope of the Fukushima disaster, which some claim has the potential to exceed Chernobyl in severity (Alvarez 2012). Since the disaster, anti-nuclear activism has exploded in Japan (Liscutin 2011). Anti-nuclear protests that formerly numbered in the hundreds now can mobilize tens of thousands. Major Japanese cultural figures, such as novelist and Nobel Prize winner Kenzaburu Oe and composer Ryuichi Sakamoto, have joined the protest movement and publically decried nuclear power. Actor Taro Yamamoto has also joined the anti-nuclear movement, despite the ramifications that doing so has already had on his acting career. Polls continue to reflect the downward plunge in public opinion for nuclear power in Japan. After the Ohi restarts, protests started every Friday evening outside the prime minister’s house, drawing tens of thousands.

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A July 2012 protest in Yoyogi Park drew a crowd of between seventy-five thousand and two hundred thousand (Yamaguchi 2012). This is not at all surprising, given the scale of the disaster and the enormous number of people affected. Despite this, the Nuclear Energy Institute and the American Nuclear Society both claim that nobody has been harmed by Fukushima. The nuclear power industry has sustained itself historically by a series of lies about the safety and total price of nuclear power, which is always heavily subsidized, and by indefinitely postponing resolving the problem of safely disposing of nuclear waste. Unfortunately for the industry, the ongoing hazards at Fukushima are impossible to conceal. One continuing hazard at Fukushima is the spent fuel pools. Should the water they are stored in evaporate and the fuel catch fire, this would release large amounts of plutonium and other radioactive materials. It was for this reason that five days after the tsunami, on March 16, the United States warned its citizens to evacuate from within fifty miles of the reactors. At one point, then–Prime Minister Naoto Kan actually considered an evacuation of the greater Tokyo area (Grossman 2012). Questions still abound concerning the fate of Fukushima. It will have to be decommissioned, but this is proving extremely difficult technically, and how exactly this will be accomplished is being debated. Tokyo Electric Power (TEPCO) envisions a forty-year process of removing all fuel rods and radioactive materials (though the robotic tools to do this have not yet been invented) and decommissioning the site completely (Fackler 2011).

After Fukushima: The Prospects for Nuclear Power in Japan Before Fukushima the idea of a complete and immediate phase-out of nuclear power would have seemed impossible, not to mention heretical. More than almost any other country, Japan was clearly pursuing an increase in nuclear power: investigating fast breeder reactors, calling for increasing the proportion of power generated by nuclear to offset CO2 emissions, and looking to export its own nuclear technology and knowhow abroad. In its 2010 energy plan, the Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry (METI) targeted a goal of Japan meeting 50 percent of its power production needs via nuclear power by 2030, up from around 25 percent (Vivoda 2012). Its pursuit of the full nuclear cycle has left it with the world’s largest repository of non-weaponsgrade plutonium (McCormack 2007). However, in a society that is even nominally democratic, public support is an essential precondition for a viable nuclear power program, and in Japan the support is gone—with little hope it will be revitalized. With public faith in nuclear power and the institutions that governed and regulated it shattered, and with the constant reminder of once-peaceful towns and villages that surrounded Fukushima now abandoned, the refugees scattered around Japan, the nation will have to pursue other energy strategies to replace its envisioned future dependence on nuclear power. Most notably, this will include increasing energy efficiency, which Japan is already a leader in, and turning to renewable sources, such as wind, solar, and geothermal. This direction would also be in keeping with Japan’s goal of substantially decreasing its greenhouse gas emissions.

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Japan officially stated it would reduce its dependence on nuclear power in an energy white paper issued in October 2011 (Huenteler et al. 2012). Led by then–Prime Minister Naoto Kan, the Diet passed a bill with a feed-in tariff to boost renewable energy, with a target of 20 percent by 2020 (Huenteler et al. 2012). Following the lead of Germany, much of this energy would be generated by solar. The immediate focus, however, is on increasing energy efficiency dramatically to reduce the shortfall. Energy use in Japan, which rose by 20 percent during the 1990s, slowed dramatically during the first decade of the twenty-first century (von Hippel et al. 2011). Many call for further cuts to overall energy use. Much of this is being debated as Japan undergoes a review of its Basic Energy Plan, last updated in 2010 and heavily nuclear in orientation. Nuclear opponents are finally being given a seat at the table, with anti-nuclear scientist-activist Hideyuki Ban of the Citizens’ Nuclear Information Center (CNIC) participating (Nuke Info Tokyo 2012). It will be vital for Japan to make significant investments into solar and wind energy. In particular, Japan has significant untapped potential for wind energy. Photovoltaic may be the best short-term bet for filling the needs induced by Japan’s nuclear plants all going offline. Wind is already cheaper than nuclear, and solar soon will be, even in marginally sunny climates (Grossman 2012). The other main consideration Japan faces is the need to decommission its existing nuclear plants and safely store its existing nuclear waste. This is no easy process, with Fukushima Daiichi alone estimated to take forty years to fully decommission. An ongoing complication is Japan’s plutonium stockpile. Japan is the only nation in the world that has pursued fast breeder reactors, leaving it with large stores of plutonium, MOX, and other radioactive fuels, now even less likely to ever be utilized. Japan’s national obsession with nuclear power has meant that an enormous proportion of Japan’s energy research and development funding has flowed into nuclear projects connected with fast breeder reactors, such as the one at Rokkashomura (McCormack 2007). Set aside as an industrial development zone in 1971, the facility was eventually turned into a nuclear enrichment, processing, and waste site (McCormack 2007). The Rokkasho reprocessing plant had thirteen years’ worth of delays in its construction and testing, and its waste pools were full by 2009 (Nuke Info Tokyo 2009). Meanwhile, nuclear waste is being shipped to reprocessing facilities in England and France and then shipped back to Rokkasho, creating hazards each way. Japan has more plutonium than any other non-nuclear-weapon owning country, with some ten tons stored within the country. That figure represents 25 percent of its total; the rest is stored outside of the country. The other major processing plant at Tokaimura has been shuttered since an accident that killed two workers and released a large amount of radiation in 1999 (see Cavasin 2008). Rokkasho’s total price tag over forty years of expected use is 19 trillion yen. Similarly, the Monju fast breeder reactor was a money pit overwhelmingly opposed by the Japanese public, with one former president of TEPCO admitting that opposition ran to around 90 percent (MiokoSmith 2011). Fast breeder reactors are thought to make little economic sense since they cost far more than ordinary nuclear power plants and uranium supplies are no

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longer thought to be scarce. After its 2010 accident, the Monju plant is not scheduled to be in operation until 2050 under current government plans (McCormack 2007). With Monju already offline, the Fukushima disaster seems to have ended any hope of pursuing the fast breeder reactor technology Japan has invested in so heavily.

After Fukushima: Global Ramifications for Nuclear Power The crisis at Fukushima continues, and with Japanese seismologists’ prediction of a major earthquake in the Tokyo area over the next few years, the situation remains dire. Damage from a major earthquake could release cesium from the storage pools, with some estimating that the resulting radiation release could be one hundred times that of Chernobyl, leading to over a million cancer deaths. In the shadow of this disaster, while the pro-nuclear propagandists continue to try to spin the news by insisting that there have been few if any deaths and that nuclear power is safe, public sentiment in much of the world has turned decisively against them. Currently, thirty-one countries have nuclear power plants in operation, but 75 percent of nuclear energy production comes from six countries: the United States, France, Japan, Germany, Russia, and South Korea (de Rijk 2010). The United States currently has the most nuclear reactors operating, while China is in the process of constructing or planning the construction of the largest number of new reactors (Wang and Chen 2012). While in some of these countries (the United States and the United Kingdom in particular) governments appear to be relatively unaffected by Fukushima in continuing their plans for new nuclear construction, public sentiment about nuclear safety may have changed, and future siting decisions may be considerably more difficult. In other countries, such as Germany, Italy, and Switzerland, the tide has turned and nuclear power will be completely phased out, while in France the electoral defeat of the Sarkozy administration spelled a reversal of fortune for French nuclear power. Overall, nuclear power was already on its way out in Europe; Fukushima sealed the deal. One commentator wrote that “Europe’s nuclear complex is dying a long, slow and probably painful death” (Uekoetter 2012a). In addition, Bulgaria has cancelled its plans to build two reactors. Europe is not alone. Mexico announced in 2011 its intentions to abandon plans to build ten new nuclear reactors. The Philippines have stated they will not build any nuclear facilities. Nuclear power plants remain under construction currently in a number of countries, particularly China, which is building twenty-four. Six others are being built in Russia, with three more under construction in South Korea (Thomas 2012). It is also worth noting that a number of countries with only a small number of nuclear power plants essentially refused to change or alter their nuclear plans at all following the Fukushima disaster. These countries include Brazil, South Africa, Finland, the Czech Republic, Poland, and the Netherlands. In addition, controversy continues over Indonesian plans to build nuclear power plants (Marshall 2012), and Vietnam seems set to continue with its plan to construct its first nuclear facilities, with Japanese government and corporate funding, cooperation, and technical assistance (Nuke

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Info Tokyo 2011). Below I discuss a number of specific countries and their reactions (if any) to the Fukushima disaster.

United States The United States is one of the few countries proceeding with plans to build new nuclear power plants in the wake of Fukushima. In February 2012 the Nuclear Regulatory Commission approved the building of two new plants at Georgia Power’s Plant Vogtle near Waynesboro, Georgia, though environmental groups have filed suit to block the licenses. Nonetheless, construction is ongoing (Bloomburg.com 2012). However, the project’s continuance requires $8.3 billion in loan guarantees from the U.S. Department of Energy, and the Office of Management and Budget is demanding that Georgia Power commit more of its own money. Thus, according to one longtime nuclear power opponent, the future of nuclear power in the United States lies largely with President Obama’s decision on this issue (Wasserman 2012). Given that Obama has a number of former nuclear company lobbyists in his inner circle of advisors, the outcome of this decision is hard to predict. In April 2012 the NRC also approved Scana Corp’s plans to construct two more new units at the Virgil. C. Summer plant near Colombia, South Carolina. The NRC’s actions are predicated upon a 1992 law, the Energy Policy Act, which allows the NRC to make construction and operating decisions in one hearing (Grossman 2012). While the NRC continues to promote new nuclear development, aging reactors across the United States are showing less healthy signs, and some, such as San Onofre in San Diego County, have been decommissioned since Fukushima. The American public remains ambivalent about nuclear power—a poll soon after the Fukushima disaster began indicated that 43 percent would support building new nuclear facilities, down from 57 percent in 2008 (Cooper and Sussman 2011).

The United Kingdom Unlike in many European nations, Fukushima seemed to have no immediate discernable effect on nuclear policy in the United Kingdom. The government is proceeding with energy policies stressing “green energy,” which are almost entirely derived from a planned increase in nuclear power; in fact, solar and wind programs are being eliminated or cut while nuclear energy will be subsidized (Toke 2011). However, plans to build new plants are on hold as utility companies assess the immense expenses involved, despite the enormous levels of subsidization being offered. It is too early to tell whether the United Kingdom will continue to build new plants or will follow Germany in phasing out nuclear power altogether.

Germany Germany reacted swiftly to the Fukushima disaster by taking its seven oldest reactors offline almost immediately, followed by plans to shut down its remaining ten reactors within ten years (Hall 2011). This was actually a resuscitation of an older plan to phase out nuclear power completely within ten years that was agreed on by the Social Democratic Party with pressure from the Green Party in 1986. Germany’s

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historically strong anti-nuclear movement was key to enabling the Merkel government to make this decision (Jahn and Korolczuk 2012). It is also relevant that Germany was already a major leader in renewable energy generation, in the process creating high-paying jobs and creating new wealth (Wittneben 2011). Currently, renewable electricity makes up more than 20 percent of Germany’s power supply, and on sunny days solar power can produce up to 40 percent of power demand (Morris 2012). However, fears remain that Germany will not be able to easily replace the 22 percent of its electricity supplied by nuclear power in 2010 and will end up importing nuclear power from neighboring European countries (Uekoetter 2012a).

France France produces 78 percent of its electricity from nuclear power, the largest proportion of any country. Fukushima seemed to have little or no influence on the Sarkozy government’s view of nuclear power, but recent polls indicate majority support for a nuclear phase-out, and newly elected president Francois Hollande has pledged to cut reactors by one-third by 2025, replacing the lost energy with renewables.

China China has ordered a variety of older and newer design nuclear plants, but construction is slowing, with no new construction of plants started in 2011 (Thomas 2012). Following Fukushima, China ordered a nuclear safety plan and safety checks at all existing facilities as well as those under construction. It has recently announced that these are complete and that the nation will be proceeding with its nuclear plans, which are to build up to one hundred new reactors in the next two decades and to attempt to triple its nuclear output to forty gigawatts by 2015 (Wall Street Journal 2012).

Taiwan Taiwan imports 98 percent of its energy. Currently, it has six nuclear reactors at three facilities. All were on a list released by the World Nuclear Association of the fourteen most dangerous (out of more than four hundred) nuclear plants in the world due to proximity to earthquake or tsunami hazards. This news caused intense media scrutiny, public debate, and public protests in Taiwan in March and April 2011 and has already led to the cancellation of permits for three of the six plants, though two reactors at a fourth plant remain under construction (Chan and Chen 2011). The presidential election of 2012 was in many ways a referendum on nuclear power; however, the anti-nuclear candidate, Tsai Ing-wen of the Democratic Progressive Party, suffered a narrow loss to the incumbent KMT president, Ma Ying-jou, who has continued with the construction of the fourth plant despite large anti-nuclear protests and election promises to phase out nuclear power (Global Post 2012).

South Korea Like Japan, South Korea is extremely lacking in sources of domestic energy, with its import dependency approaching 97 percent. Nuclear plants began construction in

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1978, and the country has twenty reactor units among four sites. Nuclear capacity represented around 13 percent of Korea’s electricity generation at 17.7 gigawatts in 2007 (Kim et al. 2011). However, the nation’s national energy plans issued in 2008–2009 call for nuclear power to be expanded to 27.8 percent of the nation’s energy mix by 2030, and construction on some of the eight new planned units is under way. South Korea not only intends to add to its own nuclear capacity, but is going forward with plans to build four nuclear power plants in the United Arab Emirates (Hayes et al. 2011).

India India has five reactors under construction, with plans to build an additional eighteen more, in the hope of reaching 9 percent of total generating capacity by 2032 (Sardana 2011). Fukushima has had little impact on India’s plans.

Conclusion As long as the nuclear industry remains propped up by governments, and as long as its boosters remain unchallenged, they will be able to issue such head-scratching statements as this one from the World Nuclear Association’s Ian Hore-Lacy: “On the basis of calm rational consideration, nuclear power will be looking just as attractive as it did before [Fukushima]” (Hore-Lacy 2011). Of course, this very same nuclear industry representative had assured viewers on CBS TV that a Fukushima meltdown would be “most unlikely” on the morning of March 12, 2011, shortly before the reactors began to melt down. It is nothing new to hear experts employed by an industry or industry association tell lies and misrepresent data to bolster the cases for their industry (the tobacco lobby being the most obvious example). What continues to amaze is that despite the clear lack of an economic incentive to produce nuclear power in any context (see Shrader-Frechette 2009 for a recent analysis of the lack of cost-effectiveness of nuclear power production), and the potential for extremely serious harm to human and nonhuman species, the nuclear lobby is allowed to pedal their lies without a large public backlash. In Japan, the consequences of allowing the nuclear lobby such carte blanche are now only too clear. While the Fukushima disaster may not yet spell the end of nuclear power for the world, it does appear to signal the beginning of the end of nuclear power in Japan. As Gavan McCormack comments: What is called for, in short, is the reversal of a half century of core national policies and the switch to a renewable energy system beyond carbon and uranium. Such a strategic decision, turning the present disaster into the opportunity to confront the key challenge of contemporary civilization, amounts to a revolutionary agenda, one only possible under the pressure of a mobilized and determined national citizenry. At this crucial juncture, how Japan goes, the world is likely to follow. The challenge is fundamentally political: can Japan’s civil society accomplish the sovereignty guaranteed it under the constitution and wrest control over the levers of state from the irresponsible bureaucratic and political forces that have driven it into the present crisis? (McCormack 2011).

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As McCormack notes, the failure is not just of technology, science, or planning, but of democracy and governance itself (McCormack 2011). Influenced, infiltrated, pressured, and bribed by the United States, Japan’s dedication to making itself a nuclear-powered state, highlighted by weak oversight, lax enforcement of regulation, cover-ups, and corruption, has led to the current disastrous situation. This reality is one that Japan’s citizenry is unlikely to forget.

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202  Jonathan Taylor ———. 2011. “Hubris Punished: Japan as Nuclear State.” Asia-Pacific Journal 9 (16, no. 3). April 18. http://japanfocus.org/-Gavan-McCormack/3517. Mioko-Smith, Aileen. 2011. “Fukushima: Notes of a Japanese Activist.” In Nuclear Roulette: The Case Against a Nuclear Renaissance, by Gar Smith, viii–xii. San Francisco: International Forum on Globalization. http://ifg.org/v2/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/ Nuclear_Roulette_book.pdf. Miura, Nagamitsu. 2000. Genpatsu Gypsies: The Hidden Tragedy of Japan’s Nuclear Labor Force. http://www.jca.apc.org/web-news/corpwatch-jp/96.html. Morris, Craig. 2012. “Myths and Facts: The German Switch from Nuclear to Renewables.” https://us.boell.org/sites/default/files/downloads/Morris_Myths_about_German_energy. pdf. Accessed April 20, 2012. Nakamura, Akira, and Masao Kikuchi. 2011. “What We Know, and What We Have Not Yet Learned: Triple Disasters and the Fukushima Nuclear Fiasco in Japan.” Public Administration Review 71 (6): 893–899. Nakata, Toshihiko. 2011. “Nuclear Energy Development in Japan.” In Nuclear Energy Development in Asia: Problems and Prospects, edited by Xu Yi-Chong, 98–115. Basingstoke, N.Y.: Palgrave Macmillan. Nuke Info Tokyo. 2009. “Hamaoka Nuclear Power Station Struck by Earthquake.” Citizens Nuclear Information Center. No. 132. Tokyo: CNIC. ———. 2010. “Failure to Remove Monju Fuel Relay Device: Long Delay Expected.” Citizens Nuclear Information Center. November/December. No. 139. Tokyo: CNIC. ———. 2011. “Petition Concerning Feasibility Study for Construction of Nuclear Power Plant in Vietnam.” Citizens Nuclear Information Center. January/February. No. 140. Tokyo: CNIC. ———. 2012. “Complete Halt of All Nuclear Power Plants in Japan. But for How Long Can Restarts Be Prevented?” Citizens Nuclear Information Center. May/June. No. 148. Tokyo: CNIC. Rathi, Chirag. 2011. “A Pause in the Growth of Nuclear Energy.” Electricity Journal 24 (6) (July): 48–52. Available at http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S104061901100145X. Reuters. Reporting by Osamu Tsukimori. 2012. “Japan’s Majority Favor Phasing Out Nuclear Power: Poll.” http://www.reuters.com/article/2012/03/18/us-japan-nuclear-poll-idUSBRE82H01I20120318. Accessed April 13, 2012. Sardana, M. M. K. 2011. “Impact of Accident at Fukushima on Nuclear Energy Programmes of India and China.” DN 1009. New Delhi, India: Institute for Studies in Industrial Development. http://isidev.nic.in/pdf/DN1109.pdf. Shrader-Frechette, Kristin. 2009. “Climate Change, Nuclear Economics, and Conflicts of Interest.” Science and Engineering Ethics 17 (1): 75–107. Thomas, Steve. 2012. “What Will the Fukushima Disaster Change?” Energy Policy 45 (June): 12–17. Toke, David. 2011. “UK EMR—Nuclear Funding from Thin Air?” Renewable Energy Focus 12 (2) (March/April): 24–25. Available at http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/ pii/S1755008411700424. Tsuru, Shigeto. 1993. Japan’s Capitalism: Creative Defeat and Beyond. Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press. Uekoetter, Frank. 2012a. “Fukushima and the Lessons of History: Remarks on the Past and Future of Nuclear Power.” Europe After Fukushima: German Perspective on the Future of Nuclear Power. In RCC Perspectives 2012 (1): 9–31. ———. 2012b. “Fukushima, Europe, and the Authoritarian Nature of Nuclear Technology.” Environmental History 17 (2): 277–284.

Ramifications of the Fukushima Nuclear Disaster   203   Valentine, Scott Victor. 2011. “Japanese Wind Energy Development Policy: Grand Plan or Group Think?” Energy Policy 39 (11): 6842–6854. Available at http://www.sciencedirect. com/science/article/pii/S0301421509007435. Valentine, Scott Victor, and Benjamin K. Sovacool. 2010. “The Socio-Political Economy of Nuclear Power Development in Japan and South Korea.” Energy Policy 38:7971–7979. Vivoda, Vlado. 2012. “Japan’s Energy Security Predicament Post-Fukushima.” Energy Policy 46:135–143. von Hippel, David, Timothy Savage, and Peter Hayes. 2011. “Overview of the Northeast Asia Energy Situation.” Energy Policy 39:6703–6711. Wall Street Journal. 2012. “China to Stoke Nuclear Power.” June 7. Wang, Qiang, and Xi Chen. 2012. “Regulatory Failures for Nuclear Safety—The Bad Example of Japan—Implication for the Rest of the World.” Renewable and Sustainable Energy Reviews 16:2610–2617. Wasserman, Harvey. 2012. “Obama’s Atomic Solyndra?” Huffington Post, April 18. http:// www.huffingtonpost.com/harvey-wasserman/obamas-atomic-solyndra_b_1433308.html. Accessed April 20, 2012. Wittneben, Bettina. 2011. “The Impact of the Fukushima Nuclear Accident on European Energy Policy.” Environmental Science and Policy 15:1–3. World Nuclear Association. 2012. “Nuclear Power in Japan.” April 14. http://www .world-nuclear.org/info/Country-Profiles/Countries-G-N/Japan/. Accessed April 16, 2012. Yamaguchi, Mari. 2012. “Anti-Nuclear Protests Signal New Activism in Japan.” BloombergBusinessweek News, August 26. http://www.businessweek.com/ap/2012-08-26/antinuclear-protests-signal-new-activism-in-japan. Accessed September 4, 2012.

10

TEPCO and Nuclear Energy Politics An Analysis of the “Japanese Pentagon” Unryu Suganuma After the 2011 Sanriku tsunami struck Japan on March 11, people often heard the word soteigai, “beyond expectations,” from the governmental officials, bureaucrats, the nuclear power industry spokesmen, television announcers, newspaper reporters, nuclear scholars or Goyogakusha (scholars beholden to the government or selfserving academic scholars), and television commentators. When Masataka Shimizu, president of the Tokyo Electric Power Company (TEPCO), held a press conference, he called the tsunami and nuclear disaster a marvel of “nature that we have never experienced before” (Gazette, March 30, 2011). In Japanese language, soteigai in the case of the 2011 Sanriku tsunami indicates two meanings: one is “no responsibility,” and the other is “no accountability.” The overarching theme has been that nature is so strong that there is nothing TEPCO could do. In other words, “Don’t blame me; it is nature’s fault.” That is, the nuclear disaster was triggered by natural causes, not human errors. Pointing to this excuse, TEPCO takes no responsibility for any damage caused by the nuclear disaster, nor do Japanese bureaucrats or the Japanese government take any responsibility for the disaster. Thus, the general theme surrounding the disaster appears to be that the public has no right to know what is going on in the Fukushima nuclear plant. For decades, the Japanese government has promoted and supported the nuclear energy industry as part of its national policy. Annually, the government provided a budget of about 455.6 billion yen toward the development of nuclear power (Shukan Gendai 2011). The government promoted nuclear power to the public as being “safe,” “clean,” and “cheap” energy. Under the name of democracy, the government endorsed and protected nuclear power within Japan’s legal framework. By operating in Japan’s social structure influenced by dirty money and dirty politics, the government’s propaganda machine eventually created a “Japanese pentagon”—one of the worst scandals in Japanese history. At best, the scandal can be described as misleading, and at worst as mafia-like fraud. By now, people in Japan realize that nuclear power is extremely dirty, expensive, and dangerous for both the human body and society. Since the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami in March, some Japanese scholars have suggested that genpatsu (nuclear power) is the apartment without the toilet (Yamaoka 2011) because nuclear power 204  

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plants can produce gigantic amounts of nuclear waste (polluting soils, water, debris, etc.), which the human race has not figured out how to deal with except by burying it under the ground or dumping it into the oceans, contaminating the soils and the seas. As a result, it is extremely expensive to clean up the mess or to manage the nuclear power plants. Many people wonder why TEPCO failed to disclose information when the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami struck the eastern region in Japan. Has the Japanese government intentionally hidden any information that is necessary for people in Japan to understand and address radiation threats? Why do bureaucrats appear to have joined TEPCO in deceiving the public? Why did bureaucrats become special advisers to the nuclear power industry, including to TEPCO, for decades? Where were the Japanese journalists when TEPCO lied to the public? Why has the Japanese main media acted as the protectors of TEPCO by not reporting the factual information to the people? Who do journalists work for, the public or TEPCO? Where is the accountability for the Goyogakusha or soi-disant academic experts and for the television commentators who have received billions of yen in research funds from the government (and thus from the taxpayers), and who have voiced propaganda for TEPCO for decades? Why have so many soi-disant nuclear power experts or Goyogakusha who have received billions of yen in research funds from the nuclear industry defended TEPCO’s action? Why should citizens in Japan pay huge of amounts of money to clean up TEPCO’s mistakes? Most importantly, three employees of TEPCO died for unknown reasons, but the police in Japan have not investigated these cases. If someone dies for unknown reasons anywhere in Japan, including on corporate property (but not that of the nuclear industry), the police will investigate the case within twenty-four hours. However, as of the writing of this paper on January 1, 2016, no one in Japan, including the police, has been able to investigate TEPCO or the causes of these deaths. Why? The endless questions have not been answered. This research will address some of the above questions, provide an overview of the major figures in developing the nuclear power industry over the past fifty years, and expose the fact that people in Japan have been blind and brainwashed by the incredible and false information spread by politicians, bureaucrats, enterprises, media, and Goyogakusha in the period leading up to the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami. There is a mountain of evidence demonstrating that the nuclear power industry, including TEPCO, worked in collusion, creating one of the most significant corruption scandals in Japanese history. The scam “Japanese pentagon”—politicians, bureaucrats, enterprises, media, and Goyogakusha—created a bribery network in Japanese society, pressing the propaganda of “nuclear safety” to the public. The scandal has depleted the Japanese people’s hope for the future, as well as their spirit. “I do not believe anyone or anything said right now,” stated an evacuated citizen from Fukushima Prefecture on the TBS News on October 9, 2011, as the disaster neared its sixth month. Thus, the Japanese people, particularly those from Fukushima Prefecture, have not trusted anyone—including the government—since the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami occurred.

206  Unryu Suganuma

Geography and Nuclear Energy Industry Geographically, Japan is currently divided into nine blocks (Hokkaido, Tohoku, Kanto, Chubu, Hokuriku, Kansai, Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu), where the power companies have more than fifty-five nuclear power plants across the national landscape (see figure 10.1 and table 10.1). Since the country began to modernize in the Meiji era, energy power companies repeatedly merged and were absorbed into each other. By the end of the Taisho period, the “Big Five” energy companies, Tokyo Dento, Toho Denryoku, Daido Denryoku, Nihon Denryoku, and Ujigawa Denki, powered Japan. However, the Second World War completely changed the landscape of competition in the energy market; the government established the quasi-governmental company Nihon Hassoden K. K. (Japan Electric Generation and Transmission Company) in 1939 to conserve energy for the country’s invasions of other Asian countries. After losing the war, Japan was occupied by the Allied Powers (the U.S. military’s General Headquarters, or GHQ), headed by Douglas MacArthur (1880–1964), who reformed Japanese society, including the energy industry. In 1947, the GHQ asked Prime Minister Shigeru Yoshida (1878–1967) to dissolve Nihon Hassoden K. K., breaking its monopoly status. Consequently, Yoshida set up a special committee to deal with MacArthur’s request, and five people were appointed to this special committee by Yoshida. The chair of this committee was Yasuzaemon Matsunaga (1875–1971). Despite the public outcry of the monopoly status of the power companies, and although people had strong interests in the privatization, Matsunaga had never given up the monopoly position of the electricity companies. After two months of discussions and meetings, the special committee finally submitted two proposals: the privatization of the electricity company and the division of the company into nine regional blocks (Hokkaido, Tohoku, Kanto, Chubu, Hokuriku, Kansai, Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu), which would allow it to continue producing and supplying power all over Japan (i.e., a monopoly). While the former aimed to eventually privatize the energy industry, the latter (Matsunaga’s proposal) aimed to retain the power industry’s monopoly status. In the end, Matsunaga won. He successfully kept the monopoly status of the energy industry. Not only did the GHQ not dissolve the monopoly status of the power industry, but the committee also allowed the power companies to divide Japan into nine regions (i.e., nine power companies), making and distributing electricity across each region, reenforcing the monopoly status. The monopoly of electricity—both its production and its supply—has become the style of today’s Japanese energy industry across all nine blocks. Since then, people have called Yasuzaemon Matsunaga the “Demon of Hard-Hearted Electricity” (Shimura 2011). On May 1, 1950, after Matsunaga persuaded the GHQ, the Japanese Diet passed the bill establishing TEPCO. But Matsunaga did not get the chairmanship position in TEPCO because he lost a power struggle with his rivals, Shoji Arai (1881–1952) and Junzo Kosaka (1881–1960). Arai became the first chairman of TEPCO, but he died fifty-nine days later.

Onagawa, Miyagi Shimokita-gun, Aomori Okuma, Fukushima Tomioka, Fukushima Kashiwasaki, Niigata Hamaoka, Shizuoka Shiga, Ishikawa Mihama, Fukui Takahama, Fukui Ooi, Fukui Kashima, Shimane Ikata, Ehime

Onagawa Higashidori Fukushima Daiichi Fukushima Daini Kashiwazaki-kariwa Hamaoka Shiga Mihama Takahama Ooi Shimane Ikata

Genkai, Saga Sendai, Kagoshima Tsuruga, Fukui Tsuruga, Fukui

Tomari village, Hokkaido

Location of the Nuclear Power Plant Tokaimura, Ibaraki Tsuruga, Fukui

Name of Nuclear Power Plant Tokai Daini Tsuruga Daiichi Tsuruga Daini Tomari

Genkai Sendai Kakunenryo saikuru kaihatsu kiko Fugen (Japan Nuclear Cycle Development Institute) Monju

Chugoku Denryoku (Chugoku Electric Power Company) Shikoku Denryoku (Shikoku Electric Power Company) Kyushu Denryoku (Kyushu Electric Power Company)

Chubu Denryoku (Chubu Electric Power Company) Hokuriku Denryoku (Hokuriku Electric Power Company) Kansai Denryoku (Kansai Electric Power Company)

Tokyo Denryoku (Tokyo Electric Power Company, or Tepco)

Hokkaido Denryoku (Hokkaido Electric Power Co., Inc.) Tohoku Denryoku (Tohoku Electric Power Company)

Company Name (English Name) Nihon Genshiryoku Hatsuden (Japan Atomic Power Company)

Table 10.1. The Nuclear Energy Industry Webs in Japan

PWR PWR ATR FBR

PWR

PWR PWR PWR BWR

BWR

BWR BWR BWR BWR BWR BWR

Type of Reactor BWR BWR PWR PWR

4 2 1 1

3

3 4 4 2

2

3 1 6 4 7 5

Number of Reactors 1 1 1 3

1975 1984 1979 2012

1977

1970 1974 1979 1974

1993

1984 2005 1971 1982 1985 1976

Year of Operation 1978 1970 1987 1989

Kaminoseki, Yamaguchi Some, Fukushima

Kaminoseki Namie-Odaka

BWR

ABWR

ABWR

Type of Reactor

BWR

BWR

ATR

BWR

Type of Reactor

1

2

1

Number of Reactors

4 (#1-4)

2 (#1 & 2)

1

1

Number of Reactors

2020

2018

Planned Operation Year 2014

Dismantling Completion Date March 31, 2020 (plan) March 31, 2028 (plan) March 31, 2036 (plan) Unknown (plan)

3 2017 Higashidori Shimokita-gun, Aomori BWR Notes: BWR (or light water reactor): Mechanism of a boiling water reactor. PWR: Mechanism of a pressurized water reactor. ATR: Advanced Thermal Reactor. FBR: Fast Breeder Reactor. ABWR: Advanced Boiling Water Reactor. Source: The author compiled this table based on Yoshioka (1999, 139) and other sources.

Ooma, Aomori

Location of the Nuclear Power Plant

Name of Nuclear Power Plant Ooma

Okuma, Fukushima

Fukushima Daiichi

Tokyo Denryoku (Tokyo Electric Power Company, or Tepco) Nuclear Plants Under Construction Company Name (English Name)

Dengen Kaihatsu (or J-Power) (Electric Power Development Company) Chugoku Denryoku (Chugoku Electric Power Company) Tohoku Denryoku (Tohoku Electric Power Company)

Hamaoka, Shizuoka

Hamaoka

Chubu Denryoku (Chubu Electric Power Company)

Tokaimura, Ibaraki

Location of the Nuclear Power Plant

Tsuruga, Fukui

Tokai Daini

Name of Nuclear Power Plant

Kakunenryo saikuru kaihatsu kiko Fugen (Japan Nuclear Cycle Development Institute)

Nihon Genshiryoku Hatsuden (Japan Atomic Power Company)

Dismantled Nuclear Plants Company Name (English Name)

TEPCO and Nuclear Energy Politics   209  

912 MWe

HOKKAIDO Sapporo

Sea of Japan 1,356 MWe

HONSHU Tokyo Osaka

Pacific Ocean

Kyoto

SHIKOKU

Fukuoka

KYUSHU

Figure 10.1. Nuclear Power Plants in Japan.

Geo-Strategy of the Nuclear Energy Politics Japan suffered from its atomic experience during World War II. The two nuclear bombs dropped by the United States on Hiroshima and Nagasaki killed over 200,000 people (140,000 in Hiroshima and 70,000 in Nagasaki) by the end of 1945. Once science demonstrated the effect of nuclear radiation, people learned the horrors that science can create. Japan learned firsthand that nuclear radiation is capable of wiping out the human race. The majority of the citizens in Japan are extremely fearful of nuclear weapons and its radiation. Based on these experiences and fears,

210  Unryu Suganuma

many people wonder why over fifty-five nuclear plants have been built in Japan, with almost no debate. How did Japan build its nuclear power industry? The answer is that a group of people created a web of geo-strategy to promote nuclear energy in Japan—the Japanese pentagon. The key person behind this strategy was one politician who eventually became prime minister, Yasuhiro Nakasone. Immediately after World War II, Douglas MacArthur as Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers, occupied Japan and loathed any type of nuclear science research, including both basic nuclear studies and the application of nuclear theory. Basically, nuclear science studies became taboo in Japan’s society (Yamaoka 2011). However, the geopolitics of the East Asia region completely changed the geo-strategy of nuclear politics in Japan when the Korean War broke out in June 1950. As Communist China became involved in the war on the Korean peninsula, MacArthur wanted to use nuclear weapons to attack China. President Harry S. Truman (1884–1972) eventually fired MacArthur for violating military orders in the Korean War. MacArthur’s hatred of communism created an opportunity for Yasuhiro Nakasone, who was seeking the “import” of nuclear science technology from the United States that would allow Japan to have “peaceful” nuclear use.

From the “Iron Triangle” to the “Devil Japanese Pentagon” Some scholars have analyzed major theories of Japanese politics, including bureaucratic organs, by Chalmers Johnson (1931–2010). In the case of the nuclear energy industry, one of the useful theories is the iron triangle theory, which has been exposed by the former bureaucrat (Sakakibara 2003). After ending the U.S. occupation, politicians in Japan launched a new idea to win economic competition with America. That is, the Japanese politicians overcame their psychological complex over the loss of the war against the Americans, who dropped the nuclear bomb in Japan. Soon after MacArthur left Japan, one of his main policies— the dissolution of the zaibatsu (financial combine)—started to melt down. Formerly terminated zaibatsu, such as Mitsui, Mitsubishi, Sumitomo, and Yasuda, began to get back together again. As an expert stated, “Japan has a history some 1,500 years older than that of its mentor during the Allied Occupation, and its state played an utterly different role in its initial industrialization than the state did in the United States” (Johnson 1995, 13). That is, the iron triangle refers to politicians, bureaucrats, and businesses, and it has played a crucial role in Japanese politics for years.

The Iron Triangle Structure It is necessary to analyze the iron triangle system in order to understand the complexity of the nuclear power industry in Japan. The iron triangle has been the major force behind establishing the Japanese nuclear energy industry since the 1950s (Yoshioka 1999). It is comprised of politicians (especially members of the Liberal Democratic Party [LDP]), bureaucrats, and massive interest groups from business communities or enterprises (Sena 2007). Under the iron triangle system, bureaucrats are recruited from top-ranking schools, such as the University of Tokyo, after passing the national

TEPCO and Nuclear Energy Politics   211  

civil service examination. Once students become “career bureaucrats” by passing the test, they can be promoted as high as the vice minister of ministries and agencies (and they can be demoted), and may be appointed as a member of the prime minister’s cabinet during their career. This was still the case when the Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ) held power in Japan. For example, when Kaieda Banri, Minister of Economy, Trade, and Industry (METI), in the summer of 2011 took disciplinary actions against his ministry’s three high-ranking bureaucrats in charge of nuclear policies after the Fukushima nuclear disaster, the three bureaucrats were Administrative Vice Minister of METI Matsunaga Kazuo, Director General of the Agency for Natural Resources and Energy (ANRE) Hosono Tetsuhiro, and Director General of the Nuclear and Industrial Safety Agency (NISA) Terasaka Nobuaki (Asahi Shimbun, August 12, 2011). During the career years, a political decision (promotion/demotion) could directly affect a bureaucrat’s job. Ironically, the top elite bureaucrats could have their “second career” after retiring from their jobs; this would also be based on political decisions. For instance, after retiring from his office, a bureaucrat could be appointed by the prime minister as an ambassador (for example, Ichiro Fujisaki as the U.S. ambassador) or as an international civil servant from Japan’s recommendation (for example, Yukiya Amano as a chief of the IAEA), representing Japan in the international institutions. Meanwhile, inside ministries and agencies, one of the major duties for bureaucrats is drafting virtually all the laws, ordinances, orders, regulations, and licenses that govern Japanese society. As a result, once the government created a nuclear energy agency, the annual budget will continue to support nuclear energy development as long as the bureaucratic agency exists. As the former vice minister from the Ministry of Finance (MOF), one of the most powerful bureaucratic agencies in Japanese government, admitted: “Among most developed democracies where the rule of law prevails, politicians without legal authority cannot, under normal circumstances, directly involve themselves in the government’s decisionmaking [sic] with regard to the drafting of legislation or the budget” (Sakakibara 2003, 50). In other words, under the democratic system, the accountability of the Japanese policymaking process (between civil servants and politicians), due to the lack of pervasiveness of the rule of law or the lack of codification of the roles of various groups, is the problem. Without legal authority, Japanese politicians are able to involve themselves in drafting legislation and the budget through bureaucrats’ help (see figure 10.2A). During the normal session in Japanese politics, the Diet adjourns in late June or early July; at that point each ministry conducts its annual reshuffling of personnel after complex negotiations between the MOF, which is the most powerful agency in Japanese politics. Because the MOF has the right to plan by dividing the annual budget, it basically holds “money” in Japan. All ministries and agencies, as well as the corresponding party committees or research groups, must request their budget through the MOF. September through December becomes the season for final allocation of the national budget between the various agencies. Japan’s political structure is one of the most complicated systems in the world.

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Figure 10.2A. Iron Triangle: Politician, Bureaucrat, and Enterprise. Sources: Sakakibara 2003 and Funase 2011.

It is difficult to understand even in comparison with Western countries. At the top of the iron triangle, politicians, in particular LDP members (or the ruling party), make the most important decisions in Japanese politics (see figure 10.2A). That is, politicians decide the allocation of the national budget. This led to an opportunity to create zoku giin (captive parliamentarians who work for both themselves and a ministry in the Japanese Diet). Some of the zoku giin work for construction companies; others work for the promotion of agriculture or for nuclear energy development. Since politicians have limited knowledge of specific laws or regulations in the particular fields (such as nuclear power), they do not have the confidence to write bills on their own. Therefore, zoku giin, Diet politicians, rely on bureaucrats with their specialized knowledge and experience to draft laws, ordinances, regulations, or licenses to pass through the Diet. In return, the zoku politicians fight for a piece of the pie in the allocation of the national budget for the bureaucrats’ ministries or agencies. After bureaucrats successfully pass these policies and regulations that they drafted in the Diet, supported by zoku politicians, the civil servants have the power to implement laws in the society. As a result, bureaucrats have the right to provide the licenses and/or public subsidies to enterprises or business communities (see figure 10.2A). In order to get a license or the public works from the government, the business communities have no choice but to offer special favors and/or bribes to bureaucrats. In the Japanese iron triangle system, the business communities or

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enterprises will not offer any bribes when bureaucrats are working in ministries and agencies. However, the corporations in the business communities will provide an opportunity for a “second career” to bureaucrats as they retire from their ministries or agencies. That is called amakudari (descend from heaven). It positions former civil servants as members of councils or as special advisers in corporations of the business communities (Johnson 1982; Colignon and Usui 2003). While a bureaucrat works as a special adviser for a particular company or corporation, he can still get new information from his former ministry or agency because his kohai (junior or behind him) is taking charge in the ministry or agency in his stead. It is indispensable for the corporation to get new information in order to renew its licenses or submit new proposals to get further allocations of the budget. By using bureaucrats as the connection between governmental agencies and corporations in the communities, the endless support from bureaucrats that will benefit the corporation’s future is assured (see figure 10.2A). Meanwhile, politicians face reelection every few years. They need the support of the business communities or enterprises—the donation of money. Corporations support the politicians’ reelection campaigns by raising political funds. Most likely, politicians will win the reelection. In return, those politicians make sure that the corporations receive an allocation of the national budget as a public works through the annual budget or via license permissions. One of the influential players in the business community in Japan is Keidanren (Nippon keizai dantai rengokai), which is well-known in the world. Keidanren, the Japan Business Federation, is the main force to push and create the Japanese nuclear energy within the government. The organization was founded by merging Keidanren, the Japan Federation of Economic Organizations, and Nikkeiren, the Japan Federation of Employers’ Associations, in May 2002. Currently, according to its homepage, Keidanren has over 1,600 memberships, including more than 1,200 companies, 127 industrial associations, and 47 regional economic organizations. Once again, the game of the iron triangle among politicians, bureaucrats, and enterprises will play repeatedly over the years (see figure 10.2A). Until 2009, when the LDP lost the election to the DPJ, the iron triangle game played for over a half-century in Japanese politics, ever since World War II. Even today, the Japanese iron triangle is still working within the political system, even though the DPJ took power.

The Road Map of the “Japanese Pentagon” The Pentagon is a large, five-cornered building near Washington, D.C., that serves as the headquarters of the U.S. Department of Defense. The Japanese Pentagon, which also has five corners—politicians, bureaucrats, enterprises, media, and Goyogakusha—serves the nuclear power network in Japan (see figure 10.2B). In the case of TEPCO, politicians were responsible for the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster because a few greedy politicians brought nuclear power plants to Japan, a country that experienced atomic bombs in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, without any public discussions and debates. Under the name of “democracy,” they blinded and brain-

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washed Japanese people into building over fifty-five dangerous nuclear plants on islands that often experience earthquakes and tsunamis. One of these politicians is Yasuhiro Nakasone.

Politicians In 1947, Nakasone was elected as a member of the House Representatives (the Diet’s lower house) from Gunma Prefecture. He had participated in World War II and served as prime minister from 1983 to 1987. His 1,806-day tenure as prime minister was the fourth longest since the war (the other three prime ministers are Eisaku Sato with 2,798 days, Shigeru Yoshida with 2,616 days, and Junichiro Koizumi with 1,980 days). In 1953, the thirty-five-year-old Nakasone traveled to the United States as a young politician and had a special summer seminar at Harvard University, where Henry Kissinger was an associate professor. The aim of Nakasone’s trip to the United States was to make close connections with people in the nuclear science field by visiting nuclear scientists and nuclear labs (Funase 2011). According to Nakasone’s memoir, “the politician must make the decision for the peaceful use of nuclear energy. We cannot allow the left-wing academicians to control the discussion of the nuclear-use issue. I am confident that it is time to take political responsibility by requesting the nuclear budget and drafting nuclear bills” (Nakasone 1992, 166–167). Soon after Nakasone

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returned to Japan from the United States, President Dwight Eisenhower (1890–1969) launched the development of the “atoms for peace” program—the loan of American uranium to “have not” countries for peaceful purposes (White House 2011). Ironically, President Eisenhower gave the “atoms for peace” speech at the United Nations on December 8, 1953, the anniversary of the declaration of war against Japan after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Subsequently, in February 1954, President Eisenhower announced that the United States was ready to provide both uranium and nuclear technology assistance to Japan for peaceful uses. In fact, immediately after World War II, the United States had prohibited nuclear science research in Japan. However, by now the American policy had turned 180 degrees to support nuclear studies in Japan. For Nakasone, it was as if a golden opportunity had dropped from heaven. He began to spread his geo-strategy for nuclear energy politics in Japanese society. After Nakasone returned from the United States, he launched the next step to make the network for his geo-strategy of nuclear energy politics in Japan—making a nuclear research budget through the Japanese Diet. Nakasone showed his political power by persuading enough members of the Diet to support creating a nuclear research budget during the administration of Ichiro Hatoyama (1883–1959), the grandfather of Yukio Hatoyama. On March 2, 1954, the first ever nuclear budget of 235 million yen (the research for the nuclear peaceful use) and 15 million yen (the field study for Uranium resource) was submitted by Nakasone in the budget committee for the 1955 annual national budget. After revising the budget, the bill was smoothly passed by the lower house on March 4, with the majority of Diet members voting for it, since Nakasone had negotiated with members from other parties—Osamu Inaba (1909–1992), Hideji Kawasaki (1911–1978), and Kenzo Saito (1898–1970)—behind the scenes (Arima 2008; Takeda 2011). Later, in the revised 1954 budget, allocation for the nuclear power was increased to 5 billion yen, which included 260 million yen for nuclear power and 235 million yen for nuclear plant construction, 15 million yen for the research study of Uranium resources, and 10 million yen for the purchase of materials relating to nuclear energy (Yamaoka 2011; Yoshioka 1999). In the Diet, Nakasone responded smilingly and laughingly to the question of how to use 235 million yen by saying, “it will be enriched uranium, uranium 235” (Nakasone 1992, 165). Although some politicians from the Japan Socialist Party and the Japan Communist Party were strongly against the bill, the LDP had the majority in the Diet, where the budget was smoothly passed. The nuclear energy budget, which a majority of people in Japan did not understand or know about, made up 5.2 percent of the national budget in 1954. It was lucky for Nakasone, because his nuclear budget might not have passed the Diet after the Japanese media spread the fact that the Japanese tuna fishing boat Daigo Fukuryu Maru was exposed to radiation from a U.S. nuclear test on Bikini Atoll on March 1, 1954. Besides Nakasone, Matsutaro Shoriki (1885–1969), “the father of nuclear power,” was another “crazy” person who promoted nuclear energy politics in Japan. After World War II, Shoriki was classified as a Class-A war criminal by the GHQ and imprisoned in Tokyo’s Sugamo Prison. As the competition between the United States

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and the Soviet Union in the cold war heated up, however, its impact began to change Japanese politics. The GHQ allowed Class-A criminals to join Japanese politics. After the Korean War broke out, Shoriki, along with another Class-A criminal, Kishi Nobusuke (1896–1987), the grandfather of Shinzo Abe, the current prime minister of Japan, was released due to MacArthur’s fear of spreading communism in Japan. Later, while Kishi became the prime minister (1957–1960), Shoriki bought the nearly bankrupt Yomiuri Shimbun newspaper for 100,000 yen. He grew to be a media tycoon as well as a greedy politician (Shimura 2011). After he developed the Yomiuri newspaper into one of the largest news media outlets in Japan, Shoriki founded Japan’s first commercial television station—Nippon Television Network Corporation—and is the owner of the famous Yomiuri Giants, one of the popular baseball teams in Japan. According to declassified documents in the National Archives and Records Administration in Washington, D.C., Shoriki worked as a CIA agent under the code names “podam” and “pojacpot-1” to disseminate pro-U.S. propaganda through his commercial television network into Japanese society and to introduce nuclear power plants using American technologies across Japan (Arima 2011; Mainichi Shimbun, July 26, 2009). At seventy, Shoriki was elected by the Toyama Prefecture to be a member of the House of Representatives in 1955, when politics in Japan entered a new phase. At this time, the Liberal Party headed by Shigeru Yoshida and the Democratic Party headed by Hatoyama Ichiro merged into a conservative organization—today’s wellknown LDP. It has been known as the 1955 system in Japanese politics. The following January, Shoriki became chairman of the newly created Atomic Energy Commission (AEC) under Hatoyama’s cabinet. By now, Nakasone and Shoriki, sharing a common goal, became a formidable force in promoting nuclear energy in Japan. While Nakasone had used Shoriki’s propaganda machine—Yomiuri Shimbun—to publish his own political views without any editing (Nakasone 1992), Shoriki received fervent nuclear “peaceful” use support from young politicians like Nakasone in the Diet. Sadly, when the Diet passed the bill containing nuclear studies in the budget, the majority of the Japanese people were totally unfamiliar with nuclear power. For example, Prime Minister Ichiro Hatoyama asked, “What is the nuclear power?” The 1947 Nobel Laureate in physics, Hideki Yukawa (1907–1981), stated, “I do not know what the nuclear energy is” (Yamaoka 2011; Funase 2011). Despite the Japanese fear of anything nuclear, Nakasone and Shoriki successfully pushed through their nuclear energy agenda, supported by the United States. In the Japanese Diet, the powerful zoku Diet—Nakasone—had worked hard to get a piece of the national budget pie. Once the budget for nuclear science was allocated, the government needed to create the necessary bureaucratic agencies— the Atomic Energy Commission (where Shoriki was the head on January 1, 1956) and the Industrial Science and Technology Agency (where he became the minister on May 19 as well). Basically, Shoriki was the first “Minister of Nuclear Energy.” Bureaucrats from both agencies benefited from their relationship with Shoriki in getting their share of the nuclear budget. Previously, Shoriki had worked hard as a

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CIA agent to create his own “micro-network,” which could link radar and air traffic control systems at the American military bases in Japan. The network could be used in helping the anticommunists in the Far East region during the cold war. But Shoriki’s “micro-network” never succeeded, because he did not have vision to see today’s digital terrestrial television broadcasting system by satellites (Arima 2011; Arima 2008). By using political geo-strategy by both Nakasone and Shoriki, the government eventually created a national budget for nuclear energy development and established the Nihon genshiryoku sangyo kaigi (renamed the Nihon genshiryoku sangyo kyoukai [the Japan Atomic Industrial Forum] in 2006), on March 1, 1956. These developments resulted in the nuclear power bureaucracy promoting the use of nuclear power to the Japanese business community. On April 6, the Japanese government, pushed by Shoriki, selected Tokaimura in Ibaraki Prefecture as the home for the Nihon genshiryoku kenkyujo (Japan Atomic Energy Research Institute). (It merged into the Japan Atomic Energy Agency in 2005.) On September 27, 1956, while Shoriki was head of AEC, the AEC requested $350,000 in funding from the United States to develop nuclear plants (Arima 2008). Within a six-month period, the Diet passed eight bills, including the establishing of the Industrial Science and Technology Agency (ISTA), related to nuclear energy development (Nakasone 1992); Shoriki and Nakasone had been the power behind these bills’ becoming law. By now, the pro-nuclear “locomotive” in Japan had accelerated since Nakasone successfully submitted the nuclear budget. Shoriki’s fervent promotion of nuclear energy in Japan archived a significant goal, but because of his age he realized one of his goals would not be meet. By October 1965, Shoriki realized that it was impossible for him to become the prime minister of Japan; he was ready to announce his retirement from politics. Nevertheless, the nuclear plants development never died, because Nakasone followed Shoriki’s steps in promoting nuclear energy. Along with Shoriki, Kishi was a class-A criminal of the Second World War. The GHQ suddenly released him from Sugamo Prison during the cold war era, and Kishi finally got an opportunity to be the prime minister in 1957. However, Kishi had another face. As a CIA agent, he had received 1 billion yen from the United States annually during the fifteen-year period to keep the LDP in power (Funase 2011; Mainichi Shimbun, July 19, 2006). He selected Shoriki as the head of the AEC, and then as minister of the ISTA on July 10, 1957. In his second-term cabinet, Kishi chose Nakasone as the ISTA head in 1959. Basically, whatever Nakasone and Shoriki wanted for nuclear development in Japan, they got through the Diet smoothly. By now, no one was able to stop Japan’s pro-nuclear power “locomotive.” Nakasone had another golden opportunity to promote the development of nuclear power when he finally became the prime minister of Japan in 1983. During his tenure in office between 1983 and 1987, Nakasone zealously pushed the development of nuclear energy in Japan. By using his close relationship with Ronald Reagan, Nakasone convinced the Americans to stop inspecting the plutonium annually, changing the policy to be no inspections for thirty years. In September

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1987, Nakasone and Reagan successfully revised the Agreement for Cooperation Concerning the Civil Use of Atomic Energy between the United States and Japan, originally signed on November 14, 1955, in Washington, D.C. In other words, Japan got permission from the United States to hold unlimited amounts of plutonium until 2018 (Yamaoka 2011). Nakasone was a smart guy who always used his personal connections to extend his political interests. Nakasone married his military comrade Yoshiharu Kobayashi’s sister, Tsutako Kobayashi, and Kobayashi served as CEO of Nihon Kogyo Shimbun and in the number-two position at Sankei Shimbun, another right-wing propaganda machine in Japan. Nakasone was also inspired by the deep knowledge of Kobayashi’s father, who had a doctoral degree in engineering. As Nakasone recalled, “Because of Kobayashi’s father’s teachings, I have still memory of the white mushroom by the American atom bomb in my brain. Due to this reason, I have determined to promote the nuclear peaceful use in Japan,” not military use (Nakasone 1992, 76). Graduated from the Tokyo Imperial University (today’s University of Tokyo), Nakasone let his child marry the child of Kajima Construction Corporation chairman Takeo Atsumi, who also graduated from Tokyo Imperial University. Interestingly, when Nakasone was the head of ISTA, Kajima Construction Corporation had begun to work on the sodium-cooled reactor—“Monju,” in Fukui Prefecture. In addition to regular construction projects in Japan, Kajima constructed many nuclear plants, such as Tokai 1 and 2, Fukushima Daiichi 1, 2, and 6, Fukushima Daini 1, 2, and 3, Hamaoka 1–5, Kashiwazaki Kariwa 1, 2, and 6, Higashi Doori 1, Onagawa 1–3, Shimane 1 and 2, Tomari 1 and 2, Shika 1 and 2, and others (Yamaoka 2011). As prime minister, Nakasone also promoted his “brain trust” during his tenure; one of many study groups was Heiwa Mondai Kenkyu Kai (A Research Group of Peace Issues), chaired by Masakata Kosaka of Kyoto University. Kosaka is the person who guided his student, the current senior leader of the DPJ, Seiji Maehara, to become a conservative politician. Maehara also has enthusiastically promoted nuclear power plants to South Korea, Vietnam, and Jordan today. After Nakasone retired from politics, his secretary, Kaoru Yosano, inherited his will to uphold and inflate the pro-nuclear power development (Sataka 2011). Yosano served in various important posts during the years when the LDP was in power, including as chief cabinet secretary of Shinzo Abe’s first-term administration and as the minister of the MOF and other ministries. Even when the DPJ took power in 2009, during the Naoto Kan administration, Yosano served as minister of state for economic and fiscal policy, controlling the national budget, the most powerful bureaucratic agency in Japan. There is no question that Yosano had played the crucial role when the March 11 tragedy occurred during the Kan cabinet. By October 1967, nuclear energy development basically became the national policy not only for the LDP, but also for opposition parties, including the socialist party. In other words, as a nation, Japan promoted nuclear energy development both inside Japan and overseas. Meanwhile, the nuclear energy budget from the annual national budget proposal dramatically increased from 260 million yen in 1955 to

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3.6 billion yen in 1956, then to 9.0 billion yen in 1957, and 17.2 billion yen in 1958 (Yomiuri Shimbun, August 27, 1957). It is unbelievable how much of the taxpayers’ money was going into nuclear energy development without debate and discussion by the people of Japan. Within the four years between 1955 and 1958, the nuclear budget jumped about 66 times. Consequently, the nuclear power money ultimately attracted an increased number of bureaucrats and institutions related to the nuclear energy industry.

Bureaucrats Once the politicians acquired the newly created budget for nuclear energy development, it was essentially guaranteed that the program would receive its share of the national budget in the following year. In Japan, it is almost impossible for politicians to eliminate a created budget, because the number of bureaucrats increase dramatically. Soon after the AEP was set up on January 1, 1956, another bureaucratic organization requested by both Shoriki and Nakasone—the ISTA (which merged into the Ministry of Education in 2001)—was founded on May 19. Since bureaucrats in ministries and agencies prepare and draft a bill or budget, civil servants often council with or receive instructions from political committees or research groups (for example, members from the LDP). After intensive negotiations between bureaucrats and politicians, the bill or budget will be submitted to the Council for Policy Coordination (of the LDP) for final approval. In the case of the budget, the chairman of the Council for Policy Coordination and secretaries-general of the party play significant roles in drafting of budget legislation (see figure 10.2A). Since the bureaucratic agencies, such as METI, ANRE, and the Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, and Sciences, and Technology (MEXT), have their own budgets, the pro-nuclear bureaucrats have enjoyed huge chances to get the big slice of pie from the annual national budget. On the one hand, bureaucrats can use the “enforcement” of laws to regulate enterprise works. On the other hand, civil servants can expect more opportunities to get in touch with enterprises, which will offer the “second career” after the bureaucrats retire from their jobs with the various ministries or agencies. This arrangement by the enterprises for bureaucrats has been called amakudari [descend from heaven] in Japanese politics; therefore, amakudari became the norm in Japanese society. In return, bureaucratic organizations have provided huge amounts of subsidies to their amakudari foundations or institutions. For instance, METI gave about 13.8 billion yen in financial support to its amakudari foundations in the fiscal year 2008 alone (AERA, August 8, 2011).

Enterprises Under the slogan “efficient operation,” the nine electric power companies established the Denki Jigyo Rengokai, or Federation of Electric Power Companies of Japan (FEPC), in 1952 to promote smooth operations within the nuclear power industry. According to the federation’s homepage: “FEPC has played an important role as a base for close communication between the electric power companies and as a forum

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for exchanging views to create the electric power industry of the future. Moreover FEPC undertakes various activities to ensure stable operations of the electric power industry, with an awareness of its role in the energy industry of Japan” (FEPC 2011). Based on various activities, hiding information is one method FEPC has used to support its nuclear power industry. For decades, the media has basically not published any news that does not support the nuclear power company. Many nuclear accidents, including the TEPCO trouble in 2002, were covered up from the public even though the law required TEPCO to report to the government. Furthermore, an incident at the nuclear plant in Kashiwazaki, which is located in an active earthquake area (an earthquake hit Niigata Prefecture in 2007), has not been reported by either the news media or the governmental agencies. Basically, all facts have been buried, without notifying the public (see figure 10.2A). One of the major reasons that both newspapers and television news programs in Japan avoided criticizing TEPCO during the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami on March 11 is the huge amount of advertisement fees provided by TEPCO and others in the nuclear power industry. According to data from the most powerful marketing companies in 2010, the nine nuclear power companies, plus Okinawa electricity company and J-Power, spent 88.4 billion yen for advertisements, and another 62.3 billion yen in marketing costs. Among them, TEPCO spent about 24.3 billion yen for advertisements to educate the public on nuclear power and over 20 billion yen in marketing fees. In addition, the FEPC has annually spent about 30 billion yen for promoting nuclear power. Along with the advertisement fees from the national budget for bureaucratic organizations, including METI, ANRE, MEXT, etc., the total amount of advertising fees for the promotion of nuclear energy is about 200 billion yen annually. To put this in perspective, Panasonic is the private company in Japan that spends the most on advertising—approximately 77.1 billion yen annually—and this expenditure is far behind the 200 billion yen in advertisement fees paid by the nuclear energy industry (Yamaoka 2011). Basically, in Japan, almost all television commercials between sunrise and sunset, even sometimes twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week, in one way or another have been sponsored by the nuclear industries (whether by FEPC, governmental bureaucratic agencies, or the nuclear energy power companies themselves, including TEPCO). As a result, the television networks heavily rely on the money from the nuclear energy industry. Consequently, when TEPCO hid facts during the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami, almost no television company or newspaper criticized TEPCO’s actions in order to serve the public interests. Most television commentators in all media benefited from the dollars of the nuclear power industry, and as a result they were not able to make objective comments regarding TEPCO’s actions in dealing with the nuclear disaster (see figure 10.2A). On July 11, 2011, finally the liberal magazine Asahi Shimbun Weekly AERA exposed the fact that METI (a bureaucratic organization) consists of about fifty-six foundations that have been subsidized by the government (in other words, the Japanese taxpayers) for trillions of yen. These foundations have allowed 103 bureaucrats,

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including the two advisers Susumu Shirakawa (as former head of the manufacturing industry bureau) and Toru Ishida (as former head of ANRE), to be amakudari (AERA, July 11, 2011). Keidanren has been the major force behind nuclear power development in Japan. In fact, many TEPCO CEOs, including Wagaishi Hirai (1914–2007), have served as the head of Keidanren or other business groups, and Shimizu Masataka, CEO of TEPCO, also served as vice chairman of Keidanren during the March 11 tragedy (later Shimizu resigned from the post). The current head of Keidanren, Hiromasa Yonekura, openly opposed the nationalization of TEPCO by the government (Mainichi Shimbun, February 15, 2012) because elites in TEPCO asked for Yonekura’s help in avoiding having their company nationalized. It is very convenient for TEPCO to ask for taxpayers’ money to clean up the nuclear mess, but elites at TEPCO are reluctant to give the taxpayers control over the company.

Media During the March 11 tragedy, the chairman of TEPCO, Tsunehisa Katsumata, was not in Japan at all. Katsumata was hosting and entertaining a group of former journalists (who are still able to influence public opinion) on a China trip, arranged annually by TEPCO. Of course, TEPCO pays the “full course” of the trip. This is just the tip of iceberg exposing the cozy relationship between TEPCO and the media (see figure 10.2B). In order to create the formidable “TEPCO Empire” in Japan, it is impossible to achieve the goal for the company if TEPCO relies on the “iron triangle” only. The aim for TEPCO and other nuclear energy companies is to create the nuclear energy plants as part of the national policy by using taxpayer money. By adding two groups: media and academic circles, or Goyogakusha, the amazing Japanese Pentagon, is formed, creating the “TEPCO Empire” and promoting nuclear power energy in Japan (Yamaoka 2011). Once again, Shoriki showed his power through his own media empire—Yomiuri Shimbun and Nihon Television. As early as 1949, the editorial page of the Yomiuri newspaper started to “brainwash” the Japanese people with its campaign of “the peaceful road of nuclear power,” using the American nuclear technology as an example (Yomiuri Shimbun, October 10, 1949). It is unknown, according to Japanese scholar Tetsuo Arima, how much information and news collected by about five thousand Yomiuri Shimbun reporters was “used” by Shoriki, who provided this information to the American CIA (Arima 2008). After the budget for nuclear energy development passed in the Diet, the Yomiuri Shimbun launched an extensive “brainwash” campaign to promote nuclear energy in 1955 as John Hopkins, founder and president of General Dynamics, visited Japan on May 9 to promote nuclear energy. The following headlines were read by the 2 million subscribers of the Yomiuri newspaper: January 1: The invitation of the US peaceful nuclear energy power envoy John Hopkins to visit Japan

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January 6: The delivery boy for the newspaper: Hopkins visits Japan January 8: This is nuclear energy year: To listen to the voices of various industries, welcome Hopkins visit January 10: The US nuclear energy power committee gave its permission; the private company builds the nuclear power plants January 12: Endless sell: The nuclear fuel of the US private power company January 18: The US Nautilus nuclear-powered submarine makes a trial run January 19: The US government begins to develop the nuclear energy power January 20: The satisfaction of the USA Nautilus trial run January 28: The House emergency proposal: The nuclear power plant in Hiroshima, $22,500,000 construction fee February 10: What is the nuclear Marshall plan? The endless supply of nuclear energy in the US February 11: The revolution of the nuclear energy power inside the US; investors are ready to generate electricity February 12: Re-submit the proposal: Construction of the nuclear power plants, not restrict in Hiroshima nuclear syndrome March 2: The nuclear power: The achievement of the peaceful use March 4: The subsidy of the construction of the nuclear plants; the US nuclear committee questioned the business community March 6: The nuclear energy power, commercial use March 9: The peaceful nuclear envoy will visit Japan March 16: Yomiuri Shimbun invited the American private nuclear envoy March 20: The revolution of nuclear power, Hopkins interviews March 24: Tomorrow will be too late to use peaceful nuclear (in Japan) March 25: The nuclear committee makes deal with the private company April 24: Hurry up!! The peaceful nuclear use in Japan (Yomiuri Shimbun 1955; Arima 2008) In many cases, the Yomiuri newspaper published propaganda articles at the top of the first page (for example, on March 16, 1955). On May 7, two days before Hopkins’s visit, the front page of the Yomiuri newspaper published the news. Moreover, along with the U.S. embassy, supported by the Tokyo local government, Yomiuri announced that it would organize and sponsor an exhibition on peaceful uses of nuclear power at Tokyo’s Hibiya Park in November (Yomiuri Shimbun, May 7, 1955). During Hopkins’s visit, the Yomiuri Shimbun and Nihon Television treated Hopkins news as the top story almost every day, promoting nuclear power and the American nuclear technology in Japan. Furthermore, Yomiuri Shimbun was a sponsor for the lecture “The Peaceful Use of Nuclear Power” in Hibiya Kokaito on May 13, including Shoriki (chair), Hopkins, Dr. Ernest O. Lawrence, 1939 Nobel Laureate in physics, and Dr. Lawrence R. Huffstodt. The latter two also presented papers, with Japanese translators. Their papers were “Nuclear Science in the Future” and “The Road of the Nuclear Energy,” respectively. Of course, the whole lecture was televised “live”

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by Nihon Television all over Japan. On May 11–12, the Yomiuri newspaper published a roundtable discussion panel with Hopkins’s delegation that was titled “Japan and the Peaceful Use of Nuclear Power” and hosted by Shoriki (Yomiuri Shimbun, May 11–12, 1955). In the editorial of Yomiuri Shimbun on May 21, after Hopkins returned to the United States, the paper ran a story titled “The First Step of the ‘Nuclear Power Japan,’” explaining that the United States is going to provide technology assistance to Japan as the American Nuclear Marshall Plan (Yomiuri Shimbun May 21, 1955). From November 1–December 12, 1955, a six-week “Exhibition of the Peaceful Nuclear Uses” ran at the Hibiya Park in Tokyo. By the last day of the exhibition, thanks to Yomiuri newspaper propaganda, the number of visitors reached 367,669 (based on data from Yomiuri Shimbun), which was a surprise to the United States. Thereafter, Shoriki asked officials in the American embassy to publish the “successful story” of the exhibition in the Los Angeles newspaper (Arima 2008). Under the leadership of Shoriki, one of the reporters from Yomiuri Shimbun, Tsuneo Watanabe, had received messages from Nakasone on a daily basis (Yamaoka 2011), keeping readers or public audiences interested in the “peaceful” nuclear use. In other words, the Yomiuri propaganda machine had continued to “brainwash” people in Japan concerning nuclear energy. Today, Watanabe is the head of the Yomiuri group, including both media and baseball, inheriting Shoriki’s empire. Historically, the dictatorship by eighty-five-year-old Watanabe in the Yomiuri group is nothing new in Japan. Just like Shoriki, an influential figure like Watanabe has manipulated politicians, such as Nakasone; twisted the factual evidence from the business enterprise, such as TEPCO in the March 11 tragedy; ruled Japan’s sports, such as the baseball team; brainwashed Japanese citizens, such as the “peaceful” use argument concerning nuclear energy; and helped the nuclear power industry to be the Japanese Pentagon in society (see figure 10.2B). The current battle between Watanabe and Hidetoshi Kiyotake, general manager of the Yomiuri Giants (who was fired by Watanabe on November 18, 2011, because he questioned the dictatorship of Watanabe), is typical. Unfortunately, in the 1970s all major newspapers (Mainichi Shimbun, Sankei Shimbun, and Nikkei Shimbun), including left-wing and liberal newspaper Asahi Shimbun, became propaganda machines for the nuclear energy industry. Consequently, no one in major media, including all of the television networks, has reported any “bad” news from the nuclear energy industry. As a former news reporter of Asahi Shimbun revealed, reporters in the paper’s in-house training meeting had to follow the guideline of the newspaper regarding nuclear energy issues. That is, in the beginning, Asahi Shimbun said, “No nuclear, but . . .” Later, the newspaper changed to “Yes nuclear, but . . .” to develop the peaceful use (Shimura 2011). For instance, on September 8, 1975, Asahi Shimbun, the liberal newspaper, ran an editorial titled, “The Pre-Conditions for the Support of Nuclear Power.” The last defender for the anti-nuclear forces among the Japanese major media basically gave up its stance against the nuclear power industry.

224  Unryu Suganuma

Goyogakusha Often bureaucrats have asked politicians, in order to support politicians’ views, to create a number of councils and study groups, which come from various academic backgrounds. Bureaucrats use the academic circles to persuade the public, characterizing their views as objective, pure academic studies (see figure 10.2B). As Nakasone recalled in his memoir, “Slap the scholars’ cheeks using a roll of bills” (Nakasone 1992, 167). In other words, money will change the opinions of scholars regarding nuclear energy development in Japan regardless of the many dangerous concerns about it. In the early nuclear development phase, politicians like Nakasone and Shoriki used their power to create a “safe,” “cheap,” and “clean” image of nuclear power. The image is extremely important. When the government created a bureaucratic agency like AEC, the Nobel winner Hideki Yukawa was invited. As a member of the AEC when politicians set it up on January 1, 1956, Yukawa joined the discussion of the development of nuclear energy. This tactic was to get the trust of the public that had a nuclear complex after the Hiroshima and Nagasaki tragedies. As early as the 1950s, Shoriki used his propaganda machine Yomiuri Shimbun to brainwash the Japanese people. In 1950, Yomiuri Shimbun founded the “Yukawa Financial Aid Scholarship” to commemorate the 1947 Nobel winner in physics, Hideki Yukawa. By downgrading “physics,” Shoriki utilized his propaganda machine to promote the “peaceful” use of nuclear energy (Arima 2008). Along with other members, Nobel Laureate Yukawa tried to accumulate studies on nuclear development. After Shoriki publicly announced that nuclear energy development would be put into practical use within five years, Yukawa decided to resign from the committee (Yoshioka 1999). On March 29, 1957, Yukawa quit the nuclear power committee of the AEC (see figure 10.2B). On April 26, 1956, the government decided to set up the Institute of Nuclear Power Research on the University of Tokyo campus. Thereafter, huge amounts of money from both governmental agencies and the nuclear power industry reached pro-nuclear energy scholars under the guise of research funds. Those so-called nuclear scholars typically dominated appearances in all major media—both newspapers and television—supporting the safety of nuclear power. On March 27, 2011, Teruaki Georges Sumioka of the Osaka Art University published an article at Insight Now! (Sumioka 2011). Dr. Sumioka disclosed that the most prestigious university in Japan, the University of Tokyo, had been bribed by TEPCO (via public donations that paid for eighty-six lecture series), for a total 500 million yen. Regarding the donation to the University of Tokyo lecture series data in details, see http://www.u-tokyo.ac.jp/res01/ pdf/20110301kifu.pdf. The University of Tokyo is just the tip of the iceberg. According to an article in Shukan Gendai in 2011, the University of Tokyo has received at least 600 million yen from TEPCO; many soi-disant nuclear experts, such as Haruki Madarame, who is chair of the government nuclear safety committee, have become the “fat cats” in the academy circles. TEPCO’s money went to other universities as well, such as Keio University and the Tokyo Institute of Technology. However, the

TEPCO and Nuclear Energy Politics   225  

Nagasaki University medical school rejected the “black” money (about 90 million yen) from TEPCO after the election of a new college president. Unfortunately, those who have been cautious, who questioned, and/or who criticized the development of nuclear power have been totally isolated. Consequently, anti–nuclear power scholars have not received any research funds from the government or private corporations, such as TEPCO. Nor did these scholars receive promotions from the university. Their opinions have been shut down from the public by all major media, including newspapers, television networks, academic journals, and weekly mass magazines. As a result, the only place that the anti–nuclear power scholars have been able to publish their opinion is the Japanese Playboy Weekly magazine, which the public does not take seriously. The “Six Anti-Nuclear Samurais” in Kyoto University are typical examples. The following are their names, ages, and official titles at the university (Funase 2011, 171): 1. Hiroaki Koide, 60, teaching assistant 2. Tetsuji Imanaka, 60, teaching assistant 3. Keiji Kobayashi, 71, instructor (retired) 4. Shinji Kawano, 69, assistant professor (retired) 5. Toru Ebisawa, 72, assistant professor (retired) 6. Takeshi Seo, 52, teaching assistant (deceased in 1994) The nuclear power companies have tried to shut down all voices, including wellknown scholars. Jinsanro Takagi, a well-known nuclear scientist, rejected a proposal from these companies. They had offered 300 million yen when they asked him to not speak out the “truth” about the nuclear power plants (Shukan Gendai 2011; Takagi 2000). Since the 1950s, however, while the Japanese Pentagon has promoted nuclear power as the national energy policy, any scholars and experts who have had differing opinions have had their voices isolated from the public. From the 1970s to the 1990s, the nuclear power plants under the name of the national policy have continually developed the “straight line toward right-up,” as if the plants were perfect (Yoshioka 1999). Three prefectures, Fukushima, Fukui, and Niigata, have been the major receivers for the location of the nuclear power plants (see table 10.1). However, the antinuclear movement has also existed in Japan. All lawsuits against nuclear development, including the Ikata nuclear power plant in the 1970s, have lost in the Japanese judicial system because the central government has ultimate power to push the nuclear power development as the central policy. Many believe that Japan has three “independent” branches—prime minister’s office, parliament, and judiciary. The idea of the “independent” branches has not worked well in Japanese society, not only in the anti-nuclear case, but also in other cases against the Japanese government, including many World War II issues, such as the comfort women and slave labor cases. In other words, there is fundamentally no room to oppose the development of nuclear power plants in Japanese society. Under the name of the “democratic” system, the participants in the Japanese

226  Unryu Suganuma

Pentagon have abused their power, spent taxpayer money for their own purposes, shut down different voices, hidden the dangers of nuclear power, and twisted the information about nuclear energy. Because all these acts by the Japanese Pentagon have occurred under the name of the “democracy” system, meaning inside the legal framework, these crimes will not be prosecuted legally. However, they will be remembered by the Japanese for a long time.

Conclusion By the end of 2009, the total amount of Japan’s stored plutonium throughout the world was about 34.19 tons. That is enough to make 4,200 nuclear bombs, according to the IAEA’s calculation that it takes eight kilograms of plutonium to make a nuclear bomb. Furthermore, regarding the amount of waste plutonium, the United States has 513 tons, France has 227 tons, and Japan has about 136 tons. The amount of plutonium in used nuclear materials can be used to produce a nuclear bomb for military use because Japan has both the technology and the capital to build the bomb (Yamaoka 2011). In the final analysis, the Japanese Pentagon has created a criminal spiderweb in Japanese society, and its purpose is to make propaganda to develop nuclear energy for use inside Japan and also for export overseas, such as to Vietnam and Jordan. After the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami hit, Makoto Sataka exposed more than fifty people (currently alive) who have directly or indirectly supported the development of nuclear energy over the last half-century; thus, they are responsible for the Fukushima disaster (Sataka 2011). They are: Politicians: Yasuhiro Nakasone; Kozo Watanabe; Kaoru Yosano Scholars: Takeshi Umehara; Haruki Madarame; Takaaki Yoshimoto; Tetsuo Yamaori; Shunsuke Kondo; Hiroshi Komiyama; Sakuji Yoshimura; Kenichiro Mogi; Ana Ogino Journalists (including announcers): Yukiko Okuma; Seiichi Kanise; Akira Fukuzawa; Hiroko Kiba; Hitoshi Kusano Performers in the Mass Media: Takeshi Kitano (or Beat Takeshi); Sakana-kun (or Masayuki Miyazawa); Hirohide Yakumaru; Haruo Kitamura; Hiroko Sumita Artists: Miyuki Nakajima; Nobuhiko Obayashi Commentators: Kenichi Ohmae; Kin Bi-leng (or Kin Birei); Ryoko Ozawa; Kanna Kozu; Soichiro Tahara; Hisayuki Miyake; Eiko Oya; Kumi Fujisawa; Kazuyo Katsuma Writers (including manga): Taichi Sakaiya; Kenshi Hirokane; Maion Koda; Reiji Matsumoto (or Akira Matsumoto); Koji Suzuki; Aritsune Toyota; Yoko Kishimoto; Takeshi Yoro Athletes: Senichi Hoshino; Zhenzhi Wang (or Oh Sadaharu); Mae no Mi; Kiyoshi Nakahata; Antonio-Inoki (or Kanji Inoki) Actors and Actresses: Kumiko Okae; Kyoka Suzuki; Kyoko Enami; Ken Noguchi; Minoru Terada; Tsunehiko Watase

TEPCO and Nuclear Energy Politics   227  

While well-known figures, such as athletes, actors, actresses, and performers in the mass media, have participated in various television commercials for the nuclear energy industry, musicians have made commercial ad songs that have contributed to favorable public relations for these companies, including TEPCO, which provides huge amounts of money in television sponsorships. Meanwhile, the commentators and so-called experts, or Goyogakusha, on television have expressed only “good” comments about nuclear power to the public, and journalists and writers have written only “great” opinions concerning nuclear energy development in mass media, including newspapers (see figure 10.2B). Almost no room exists for those who question the nuclear power industry in Japanese society; the majority of citizens have been “brainwashed” and deliberately misled by the nuclear power companies through these well-known public figures and through the Japanese Pentagon system. In the final analysis, the whole of Japanese society, from politicians, bureaucrats, and the business community based on the iron triangle, to the media, as well as Goyogakusha based on the Japanese Pentagon, to the government, played a part in implementing and supporting the national policy to protect nuclear energy development against any opposing forces and opinions. By March 2012, heading into the one-year anniversary of the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake, Prime Minister Yoshihiko Noda acknowledged, “The government, operator and the academic world were all too steeped in a safety myth. . . . Everybody must share the pain of responsibility” (Tabuchi 2012). In the end, Japanese taxpayers, through either increasing taxes or construction bonds, will have to clean up TEPCO’s mess for decades—probably for hundreds of years—to come. Ironically, no one who has committed the criminal acts inside of the Japanese Pentagon over the past half-century has been punished at all. Why?

References AERA (Asahi Shimbun Weekly). 2011. “Keisansho no genpatsu kudeta gahajimaru” [The Nuclear Power Coup in METI]. July 11. ———. 2011. “‘Genpatsu anzen’ ni 138 oku” [For the “Safe Nuclear Power Energy,” 13.8 Billion Yen]. August 8. Arima, T. 2008. Genpatsu/Shoriki/CIA [Nuclear/Shoriki/CIA]. Tokyo: Shincho shinsho. ———. 2011. Nihon terebi to CIA [Nihon Television Corporation and the CIA]. Tokyo: Takarajima sha. Asahi Shimbun. 1975. “Genshiryoku hatsuden suishin no zenteijoken” [The Pre-Conditions for the Support of the Nuclear Power Energy]. September 8. ———. 2011. “Kotetsu no keisan jimujikanra sannin ni taishokukin 6–8 senmanen” [About 60 Million–80 Million Japanese Yen Retirement Fee for the Replacement of Three Vice Ministers from the METI]. August 12. Colignon, R., and C. Usui. 2003. Amakudari: The Hidden Fabric of Japan’s Economy. Ithaca: Cornell Univ. Press. FEPC. 2011. “About Us.” http://www.fepc.or.jp/english/about_us/index.html. Accessed October 20, 2011. Funase, S. 2011. Genpatsu mafia [The Nuclear Gangsters]. Tokyo: Kadensha. Gazette. 2011. “Japan, Tokyo Electric Ignored Tsunami Warning.” March 30.

228  Unryu Suganuma Johnson, C. 1982. MITI and the Japanese Miracle. Stanford: Stanford Univ. Press. ———. 1995. Japan: Who Governs? New York: Norton. Mainichi Shimbun. 2006. “CIA: Minshato keto wo enshutsu” [The Performance Created by the Democratic Socialist Party]. July 19. ———. 2009. “CIA: Ogata Taketora wo tsuji seiji kosaku” [CIA: The Political Manipulation Through Ogata Taketora]. July 26. ———. 2012. “Tokyo denryoku” [TEPCO]. February 15. Nakasone, Yasuhiro. 1992. Seiji to jinsei [My Memoir: Politics and Life]. Tokyo: Kodansha. Sakakibara, Eisuke. 2003. Structural Reform in Japan: Breaking the Iron Triangle. Washington, D.C.: Brooking Institution Press. Sataka, M. 2011. “Gepatsu bunkajin 50-nin kiri” [The Exposé 50 People of the Pro-Nuclear Power]. Tokyo: Mainichi Shimbun Sha. Sena, T. 2007. “Keiei rinri kara mita kansei dango” [Kansei-Dango from an Ethical Point of View]. Nihon keiei rinri gakkai shi [Japan Society for Business Ethics Study] 14:113–125. Shimura, K. 2011. “Toden teikoku: Sono shippai no honshitsu” [TEPCO Empire: Its Essential Failure]. Tokyo: Bungei shunju. Shukan Gendai [Contemporary Weekly]. 2011. “Soryoku tokushu: Kono kuni ha genryoku kaisha ni marugoto baishu sareteita” [The Comprehensive Report: This Whole Country Has Totally Been Bought by the Nuclear Power Energy Companies]. 53 (20): 32–42. Sumioka, Teruaki Georges. 2011. “Toden no kane ni osenshita todai ni damasareruna!” [Do Not Be Deceived by the Dirty Money from the University of Tokyo]. Insight Now! March 27. http://www.insightnow.jp/article/6430. Tabuchi, Hiroko. 2012. “Japanese Prime Minster Says Government Shares Blame for Nuclear Disaster.” New York Times, March 3. Takeda, T. 2011. “Watashitachi wa koshite ‘genpatsu taikoku’ wo eranda” [This Is the Way That We Chose to Be the “Nuclear Empire”]. Tokyo: Chuko shinsho kokure. Takagi, K. 2000. “Gepatsu jiko ha naze kurikaesu noka” [Why Do Nuclear Accidents Occur Repeatedly?]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. TBS News. 2011. “Special Program for the 2011 Sanriku Tsunami.” October 9. White House. 2011. “Dwight D. Eisenhower, 1953–1961.” http://www.whitehouse.gov/about/ presidents/dwightdeisenhower. Accessed September 21. Yamaoka, J. 2011. “Genpatsu to kenryoku” [Nuclear Energy and Power]. Tokyo: Chikuma shinsho. Yomiuri Shimbun. 1949. “Geshiryoku nihon no akebono” [The Daybreak of the Japanese Nuclear Energy Power Industry]. August 27. ———. 1955. “Geshiryoku heiwa riyo daihakurankai” [The Great Exhibition of the Peaceful Use of the Nuclear Power]. May 7. ———. 1955. “Nihon to geshiryoku heiwa riyo-1” [The Peaceful Use of the Nuclear Power-1]. May 11. ———. 1955. “Nihon to geshiryoku heiwa riyo-2” [The Peaceful Use of the Nuclear Power-2]. May 12. Yoshioka, Hitoshi. 1999. “Genshiryoku no shakaishi” [The Social History of the Nuclear Power Energy]. Tokyo: Asahi sensho.

11

Characteristics of the Evacuation Area and the Spatial Distribution of Radioactive Pollution in Fukushima Prefecture Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano Outline of the Accident and the Purpose of the Report Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station is located on the Pacific coast about two hundred kilometers north of Tokyo, and about one hundred kilometers south of Sendai (see figure 11.1). Three nuclear reactors among six in total were working when the mega-quake occurred at 2:46 p.m. on March 11, 2011. The emergency shutdown system started at once, and the three reactors stopped safely. But a huge tsunami, with a height of thirteen to fifteen meters, struck the whole plant about forty minutes later, stopping all of the emergency power supplies, resulting in loss of the cooling facilities for all of the nuclear reactors. Such accidental conditions caused a series of vent and hydrogen explosions from three power plants between March 12 and 15. With each explosion, huge amounts of highly concentrated radioactive materials escaped into the air and dispersed broadly into the environment. Also, much of the radioactive materials washed out to sea. Through this series of events, the total amount of radioactive materials dispersed into the air was estimated to be more than 37 × 1012 Bq. This tragic accident was rated at the worst level among seven levels introduced by the IAEA, and was the second such case, Chernobyl in 1986 being the first. Most of the eighty thousand residents within twenty to thirty kilometers of the power station were obliged to evacuate from their homes before grasping the damage of the earthquake and tsunami. The number of evacuated people reached 162,000 at its peak in 2012, and still runs about 100,000 in 2015. It is feared that a significant number of people will never be able to return to their homes. This paper has three objectives. The first is to describe how the pollution dispersed from the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station and what kind of areal restrictions for evacuation were settled by the government. The second objective is to clarify the regional characteristics of the evacuated areas—that is, how the area was like in terms of the geographical and industrial viewpoints. Third, it will show the

229  

230  Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano

Sea of Japan

Sendai

Fukushima Fig. 4

Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station

Fig. 2

PACIFIC OCEAN

Figure 11.1. Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station.

TOKYO

0

25 0

miles 25

50 50

kilometers

geographical distribution of actual pollution and its change over time using the monitoring data for agricultural, forestry, and fishery products in Fukushima Prefecture.

Designation of the Evacuation and Controlled Area In this unprecedented situation, on March 12 the national government announced a “no entry” evacuation directive for the area within a twenty-kilometer radius from the nuclear power station, and the direction to stay indoors was given to people living in the twenty- to thirty-kilometer zonal area on March 15. While research activities of the radioactivity levels proceeded in various places, another densely contaminated area where the yearly accumulative dose might reach 20mSv was found spreading northwestward (see figure 11.2). On April 21, the national government designated the area with 20mSv as a “planned evacuation area,” where the residents were urged to move out to other areas for one month. This area contained Iitate Village, Katsurao Village, Tsushima

Characteristics of the Evacuation Area   231  

Figure 11.2. Accumulated Nuclear Radiation in mSv.

district of Namie Town, Yamakiya district of Kawamata Town, and the southwestern area of Minami–Soma City (see figures 11.2 and 11.3). As to why such a polluted area appeared, it is thought that the wind at the time of the hydrogen explosion on the morning of March 15 carried the polluted air and the subsequent rainfall brought the radioactive materials in the air down. At the same time, the twenty- to thirty-kilometer zonal area under the “stay indoors” order was designated as a “ready to evacuate area” in a possible emergency situation, where children, pregnant women, and handicapped persons needed to

232  Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano

Figure 11.3. Designated Evacuation Areas.

evacuate. Furthermore, several spots with dense contamination, where the yearly accumulative dose was estimated to reach 20mSv, were discovered outside those designated areas. The measure of “encouraging to evacuate” was taken for such places on June 30. The number of such places reached to twelve, affecting 282 households in total, by November 26. Most of them were located in the northwestern and northeastern parts along the 20mSv line shown in figures 11.2 and 11.3.

Characteristics of the Evacuation Area   233  

Regional Characteristics of the Designated Evacuation Areas Physical Setting The geomorphologies of the evacuation area and the ready to evacuate area are shown in figure 11.4. The land can be divided clearly into three geomorphologic parts, described as below from east to west along the Pacific coast: i. Coastal area called “Hamadori,” consisting of two sub-parts: the table lands (with altitudes of twenty to fifty meters) and the narrow plains (along small rivers that flow down, cutting the table lands to the Pacific Ocean). ii. Steeply sloped area along the Futaba Fault, with deep valleys cutting through. iii. Abukuma Highland, with an altitude of about five hundred meters or more. Many settlements in the coastal plains were flooded by the tsunami after the megaquake of March 11. By the meteorological observation, when the hydrogen explosion happened on March 15 most of the radioactive materials were expected to disperse northwestward along one of the deep valleys between the coastal area and the Abukuma Highland.

Population Population distribution of the municipalities in the designated evacuation areas is shown in figure 11.5. Many of the residents in this region live in the coastal area, and

Odaka Kazurao

Abukuma

Namie

Fault Futaba

Miyako

Highland

5

0

Hamadori Futaba

Flat Okuma

kilometers

Figure 11.4. Physical Geography of the Evacuation Area: Hamadori Flat and Narrow Coastal Plain, Futaba Fault, and Abukuma Highland.

234  Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano

Figure 11.5. Population Distribution, Fukushima Prefecture.

the population density is rather low in the sloped area and Abukuma Highland. The population and number of households for each designated area are shown in table 11.1. The entire population in the twenty-kilometer “no-entry” zone and most of the population in the “planned evacuation area” were obliged to evacuate to other places. About eighty-four thousand persons in total had to evacuate—a situation Japan had never experienced before.

Characteristics of the evacuation area

235

Table 11.1. Population Each Evacuation tableEstimated 11.1. estimated population of of each evacuation Zone Zone population

households

20-km zone

72,891

23,204

30-km zone

133,053

43,078

11,229

3,033

planned evacuation area

Industries In the designated evacuation areas economic activities stopped, and when they might restart is unclear even after three years. table 11.2 shows the census data for the manufacturing and commercial industries by municipal district shown in figure 11.3. The shadowed districts contain areas more heavily polluted by radioactive materials. according to the table, about 2,400 establishments, 20,000 persons’ business opportunities, and 402 billion yen of industrial outputs were lost in a year. The distribution of commercial industries is similar to the population distribution shown in figure 11.5. That is, Haramachi in Minami–Soma City is the biggest regional center, and the sub-centers of namie and tomioka are the second and third biggest commercial places. Manufacturing industries are located rather evenly in the coastal area. The major Table 11.2. Manufacturing and Commercial Industries by Municipal District (2004) table 11.2. Manufacturing and Commercial Industries by Municipal District (2004)

*1: million yen, *2: data year is 2001, retailing contains wholesaling. –: no data, x: confidential. Source: http://www.e-stat.go.jp

236  Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano

areas of manufacture are “electronic components,” “machinery instruments,” “rubber commodities,” and “clothes and textiles.” They generally were labor-intensive and low added value industries. Generally speaking, this area was not a prosperous industrial region in Japan despite its relative nearness to Japan’s economic center of Tokyo. Major electric power companies constructed many power plants in this area to serve the Tokyo region. The industries shown in table 11.2 provided significant employment opportunities for the local residents. Long-term evacuation of the residents and stoppage of the industries were unavoidable, which poses difficult problems for the recovery of the area.

Agriculture, Livestock Farming, Forestry Radioactive materials dispersed from the nuclear power station polluted the farmlands, forests, rivers, and sea, which caused serious damage to the primary industries in this area. Because the detailed facts will be described in the following section, the authors will give here an outline of the primary industries. Some basic statistics of agricultural, livestock, and forestry by municipal district are shown in table 11.3. From the table, we can grasp first the fact that about thirteen thousand farmers produced 27 billion yen worth of goods from eighteen thousand hectares of arable lands. Especially Namie Town and Iitate Village, which belong to the densely polluted zone, are main agricultural areas in the region. In addition, cattle raising and forestry activities were operating in Abukuma Highland. Average acreage of cultivated land per farmer is 1.46 hectares in this region, which is rather larger than Japan’s average. But the crops with higher productivity, such as garden products or greenhouse crops, are very limited. In addition, feed crops for domestic livestock are included in the average acreage. Speaking generally, agriculture in this region cannot be said to be intensive. But the area is famous for cattle raising—Iitate Village beef is a well-known brand in Fukushima Prefecture. Shiitake mushroom farming, belonging statistically to the forestry industry, is widely practiced in mountainous areas, including the Abukuma Highland. In addition, forestry nurturing and timber production are well-known local industries in Miyako Village in the central part of the Abukuma Highland.

Fishery The fishery industries in Fukushima are not as thriving as in the Sanriku Coast, which suffered serious damages from the tsunami. But according to the 2008 fishery census, 166 fishery workers and 108 fishing boats were registered in this region. Most of them belonged to Uketo fishing port in Namie, about six kilometers north of the nuclear power station. The main types of fisheries are the drawing net, gill net, and rod fishing, many of which are operated by small boats of less than five tons. Their main catches are small fishes, such as sand lance, young sardine, and flatfishes, including flounder. Fukushima Prefecture prohibited the fishery operations for at

Characteristics of the Evacuation Area   237   Table 11.3. Primary Industries by Municipal District x：confidential，　－：no data

Table 11.3. Primary Indutries by Municipal District

location

workers 2005

cultivated output land (ha) (million yen) 2004

forestry

livestock

agriculture

2004

milk cow

beef cattle

2005

2005

fishery

workers

forest area (ha)

workers

fishing boats

2000

2004

2008

2008

coastal area

Haramachi

20-30 km

2,613

3,770

4,810

121

442

126

11,386

3

3

Odaka

10-20 km

1,600

2,300

2,870

392

322

141

4,628

40

21 73

Namie

5-30km

1,925

2,750

3,590

183

188

113

16,021

110

Futaba

～10km

674

929

880

0

70

80

3,003

0

Okuma

～10km

829

1,220

1,830

0

168

96

4,975

Tomioka

～10km

882

1,110

2,180

0

261

69

4,047

Naraha

10-20km

756

841

870

37

139

63

7,756

Hirono

20-30km

390

365

300

0

0

98

4,382

Iitate

30 km ～

1,466

2,270

3,900

0

740

271

17,259

x

0 x

13 x

11 x

0 －

0 －

highland

Yamakiya

30 km ～

436

421

127

320

26

－

－

Kazurao

20-30 km

462

617

1,540

126

212

31

6,906

－

－

Miyakoji

15-30km

623

803

2,750

115

383

123

10,074

－

－

Kawauchi

10-30km

583

925

1,480

81

201

118

17,208

－

－

13,239

18,321

27,000

1,182

3,446

1,355

107,645

Total Notes:

x = confidential

－

－

166

108

－ = no data

Source : Annual of Fukushima Statistical Office (2004); Agriculture Census (2005); Forestry Census (2000); Fishery Census (2008). Notes: x : Report confidential, — : no data Sources: Annual Report of Fukushima Statistical Office (2004); Agricultural Census (2005); Forestry Census (2000); Fishery Census (2008)

least one year for fear of the diffusion of radioactive contamination to the sea. Actually, the periodic sampling of marine products has indicated that the contamination of marine creatures has increased with time. In the rivers flowing down from the Abukuma Highland to the Pacific Ocean, many salmon come upstream every autumn. In the thirty-kilometer zone from the nuclear power plant, fishery cooperatives are organized in five rivers to operate the artificial hatching and stocking. Among the five rivers, the number of salmon catches in Kido River in Naraha Town made it one of the most thriving salmon rivers on Honshu island. But every incubation facility in these rivers was entirely destroyed and flooded away by the tsunami, and four rivers among the five are located within the twenty-kilometer “no-entry” zone.

Diffusion of the Nuclear Pollution The radioactive material spread widely beyond the evacuation areas. Japan’s Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science, and Technology published maps of radiation doses and of the accumulation of cesium. Figure 0.8 in the Introduction shows the accumulation amount of cesium 134 and 137 in land surface estimated by November 5, 2011. As mentioned before, the radioactive materials’ diffusion seemed to follow the wind direction and rainfall when the explosion happened and the geomorphologic features. Such conditions seem to be represented in figure 0.8, where the contaminated air was first carried northwestward from the power

238  Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano

plant across the Abukuma Highland to the eastern edge of the Fukushima Basin, and then turned south along the Abukuma River, flowing along the western edge of the Abukuma Highland, showing lower levels of pollution. The lower levels of pollution went then to the northern Kanto district and partly to the eastern neighborhoods of Tokyo. In contrast, places such as the western half of Fukushima Prefecture (Aizu region) and the northern neighboring area in Miyagi Prefecture escaped the flow of contaminated air, resulting in the lowest level of accumulation in spite of their proximity to the nuclear plant. A kind of “barrier effect” of the geomorphology can be observed in the northern part of the Kanto area and a boundary area between Miyagi and Iwate Prefectures. The flow of contaminated air seems to have been interrupted by the mountain ranges. In addition, it seems that Japan’s dividing range of the Ou Mountains in the middle of Fukushima Prefecture interrupted the airflow into the Aizu region.

Radioactive Contamination of Agriculture, Forestry, and Marine Products in Fukushima Prefecture Radioactive materials spread to most parts of the eastern half of Fukushima Prefecture and to the adjacent prefectures. What influence this had on agriculture, forestry, and marine products is the next problem. In this section, the radiological detection from agriculture, forestry, and marine products is described using the monitoring data from March to August 2011, published by Fukushima Prefecture.

Monitoring System by Fukushima Prefecture Fukushima Prefecture installed some germanium semiconductor detectors into the prefectural institute of Fukushima Agricultural Technology Center and performed a monitoring survey on the farm, forest, and aqua products just after the accident happened. Items to be detected were decided in consultation between the prefecture and municipalities and producers’ groups before the harvest time of every item. As a safe standard against radioactive pollution of farm products, the “provisional regulation values” shown in table 11.4 were decided by Japan’s “Food Hygiene Law.” When a sample’s value exceeds the regulation value, its shipment and intake are restricted. The shipment and intake restrictions of every item are appointed by the government. For the cancellation of the restriction, the conditions shown below are needed in every municipality: radioiodine 131—values sampled in three continuous times are all lower than the “provisional regulation value” radioactive cesium—sampled values in one month are all lower than “provisional regulation value” on more than three sample points

Characteristics of the Evacuation Area   239   Table 11.4. Some Examples of “Provisional Regulation Values” (Bq/kg) radioiodine 131 radioactive cessium drinking water 300 200 milk, dairy products 300 200 vegetables 2,000 500 grain 500 meats, eggs, fish, others 500

Levels of Radioactive Pollution Table 11.5 shows the monthly change of the monitoring result.1 Because it was the early spring when the accident occurred, there was not much volume of farm products being shipped in the beginning. As the season changed to summer, the shipment of farm products and the number of samples for monitoring increased, which tended to increase the number of samples contaminated by radioactive material. In contrast, the ratio of samples in which radioactive materials were contained gradually decreased. In other words, it can be said from the table that about one-third of the farm products produced in Fukushima Prefecture were contaminated by radioactive materials a half-year after the accident. But the number of samples beyond the shipment regulation value was not so many. The ratio of the samples beyond the regulation level decreased from 20.5 percent in March to 1.6 percent in August. Table 11.5. Monthly Change of the Monitoring Result March

April

May

June

July

August

Total Samples

331

574

826

961

1,191

1,459

samples detecting radioactive materials percentage to total samples

276 83.4

368 64.1

373 45.2

381 39.6

464 39.0

489 33.5

samples needed to suspend shipment percentage to total samples

68 20.5

79 13.8

78 9.4

61 6.3

29 2.4

24 1.6

grain

0

0

0

0

1

0

root crops

1

1

1

0

0

0

vegetable

50

52

0

0

0

0

fruits

0

0

6

5

2

4

edible wild plants, mushrooms

0

21

50

25

3

2

meat, egg, milk

16

0

0

0

0

0

fish and shellfish

0

5

20

31

22

18

others

1

0

1

0

1

0

240  Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano

Another tendency that can be described from the table is that the sample numbers beyond the regulation level appeared only for a short time, such as with vegetables in March and April, milk in March, and mushrooms from April to June. This suggests that most of the crops contaminated up to the regulation level were the crops exposed directly to radioactivity at the time of the accident. And it is supposed that the crops that absorbed much radioactive materials from the soil were not so many. In contrast, higher pollution continues in the case of fishery products. This is because the drainage contaminated by radioactivity gradually moved downward and reached the Pacific Ocean. On this account, all the fishery activities in front of the Fukushima Prefecture were stopped just after the nuclear accident.

Areal Distribution of the Radioactive Pollution in Field Crops The actual pollution status can be different, not only by the crop but also by the area according to the real distribution of the radioactive materials shown in figures 11.2 and 11.6. In this section, the authors try to show the areal distribution and change of the pollution by mapping method—that is, by the monthly mapping of the highest value of the products by municipality. Using the maps, we try to discuss what spatial characteristics the radioactive pollution has and how it changes. The data are provided by Fukushima Prefecture, which measured iodine 131, cesium 134, and cesium 137. Among these three, the authors mainly use the total value of cesium, whose half-life is two years for cesium 134 and thirty years for cesium 137, in the discussion here. This is because the regulation values are made by the total value of cesium 134 and 137 in Japan. Only in the case of “raw milk,” which is highly influenced by iodine 131, is iodine 131 used. The influence of iodine 131 falls rapidly, as its half-life is only eight days. The area inside the twenty-kilometer radius and the planned evacuation area shown in figure 11.3 are outside our investigations, because the harvest and shipment of any crops or livestock products from those areas were prohibited after the accident.

Spinach Among the vegetables, spinach often showed a higher value than the regulation level in March and April. Figure 11.6 shows the highest value of cesium 134 and 137 by municipality from March to June, which covers the harvest season of spinach. Spinach had little production in March, but very high radioactive material was detected. The highest density reached 40,000 Bq/kg and was detected from a sample in Tamura City, which is located just east and adjacent to the twenty-kilometer radius area. The second highest (34,000 Bq/kg) was detected in Otama Village, located about twenty kilometers west of Tamura City. Values of more than 1,000 Bq/kg of cesium were detected from nine municipalities, including these two.

Characteristics of the Evacuation Area   241  

Figure 11.6. Radioactive Cesium in Spinach.

In April the pollution spread wider. Although the highest density decreased to 22,000 Bq/kg in Otama Village and 19,000 Bq/kg in Tamura City, a sample with 2,200 Bq/kg appeared in the western part of Fukushima Prefecture, which was distant from the nuclear power station. And the number of municipalities where samples with higher than 1,000 Bq/kg appeared increased to eleven. In May, the highest value remarkably decreased to 220 Bq/kg in Iwaki City, located in the southeastern corner of the prefecture, and in June 122 Bq/kg in Hanawa Town, located on the prefecture’s southern edge. Values over the shipment regulation level did not appear after May. Thus, the densely polluted samples of spinach were found from the spinach harvested mostly by the beginning of April. It is supposed that such samples were polluted by radioactive material discharged directly into the atmosphere from the nuclear power plant. After the middle of April, spinach with such a high density was not detected.

242  Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano

Figure 11.7. Radioactive Cesium in Plums.

Plums In this section, plums will serve as an example for fruit trees. Only a value in June is shown because of the fruition period (see figure 11.7). When the accident happened, young plums were on the trees. It is supposed that those young plums were polluted directly from the air and secondarily from the leaves. The highest value was 760 Bq/kg in Date City, which is located in the northern part of the prefecture. The higher values of 750 Bq/kg in Minami–Soma City, 700 Bq/kg in Koori Town, and 650 Bq/kg in Soma City also appeared in the northern part of the prefecture. The highly polluted area was limited to the northern part, and those values were rather lower than spinach’s case. It is generally said that trees do not easily absorb radioactive materials, because they are permanent plants and their roots grow deep underground.2 But as for the absorption from the roots, long-term monitoring is necessary.

Wheat The case of wheat is shown as an example of cereals (see figure 11.8). The highest value of 630 Bq/kg, which was over the regulation value, appeared in Hirono Town, and 480 Bq/kg in Soma City followed. Both locations are along the Pacific coast. Other values were found in rather low levels. When the accident happened, wheat was in the stage after sprout. It is supposed that the wheat absorbed atmospheric radioactive material directly. Because the cereal is a particularly important crop for everyday life, it has a psychological impact on

Characteristics of the Evacuation Area   243  

Figure 11.8. Radioactive Cesium in Wheat.

consumers. It is necessary to monitor continuously how the wheat crop is impacted by the radioactive soil pollution.

Areal Distribution of the Radioactive Pollution in Forestry Products Log-Planted Shiitake Mushrooms The radioactive material spread not only to the cultivated lands, but also to the forests, which can pollute the forestry products. For an example of forestry products, the case of log-planted shiitake is shown here. Log-planted shiitake are grown widely in villages in the Abukuma mountains. There are two types of growing for the logplanted shiitake: outdoor type and greenhouse type. Needless to say, the outdoor type is much more likely to bear the pollution, but the monitoring data do not differentiate between the two types. Figure 11.9 shows that extremely high pollution density was detected in the March to April period in the northeastern part of the prefecture, reaching 13,000 Bq/kg in Iitate Village. In addition, values over 1,000 Bq/kg appeared in another four municipalities near Iitate. In the period of May to June, such tendency continued. The highest value was 2,700 Bq/kg in Soma City, located in the northeastern part of the prefecture. Samples with higher pollution than was found the previous period appeared in three municipalities. In the next period, July to August, pollution levels fell widely, with only one municipality (Date City) having a sample over 1,000 Bq/kg. This is thought to have been the result of a shipment of shiitake mushrooms from a more highly polluted area being stopped there.

244  Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano

30km

30km

20km

20km

lake

lake

March - April

May - June (Bq/kg) 301-500 0-100 101-300 Not Detected

1001 + 501-1000

No Data

“No Data” indicates the municipality where the no crop or products were harvested or shipped. 0

25

50 km

30km 20km lake

July - August Figure 11.9. Radioactive Cesium in Shiitake Mushrooms.

Because growing of log-planted shiitake takes about two years from inoculation to harvest, long-term monitoring should be maintained, especially for the outdoor type of shiitake, which was possibly bare to the polluted air directly and likely bare to the secondary pollution from the environment in the forest.3 Shiitake growing is one of the main products in Japan’s mountain villages and occupies a significant position in their farming. Decontamination of the forest is extremely difficult, and long-term pollution is unavoidable. Such a situation will possibly lead to significant damages to shiitake growers. Continuous research about it is necessary.

Areal Distribution of the Pollution in Livestock Products Raw Milk In the case of raw milk, radioactive materials whose main ingredient was radioactive iodine were detected just after the accident—that is, the middle of March was the

Characteristics of the Evacuation Area   245   Table 11.6. Change of the Total Number and Polluted Samples of Raw Milk

time when the most intense pollution appeared (see table 11.6). Among the fortynine samples, forty-five were polluted by radioactive materials, and eleven samples showed values above regulation level. High-density pollution appeared widely in the northeastern part of the prefecture. The highest values of iodine reached 5,300 Bq/kg in Kawamata Town and 5,200 Bq/kg in Iitate Village. Such pollution of milk was thought to be caused by the contamination of the feed crops and grasses. To improve the situation, Fukushima Prefecture announced the following directives for the owners of livestock: i. Use feed that was harvested before the accident and kept indoors. ii. When using wrapped feed stocked outdoors, wash the whole surface of the wrap with water or wipe it with a cloth. iii. Don’t use water from rivers and springs for drinking water for the domestic animals. Instead, use city water or well water. iv. Cover the water tanks with caps. v. Avoid giving water to domestic animals from water tanks outside the barns. vi. Keep animals inside the barns for the time being, avoiding pasture raising.4 Though there were some confusions just after the nuclear accident happened, most of the farmers coped with these instructions. Owing to the generally proper behavior, the contamination of raw milk decreased rapidly. After mid-March, the number of polluted samples rapidly reduced. By the end of March, the number of samples exceeding the regulated values had reduced remarkably, and in April they disappeared. After the end of April, detected radioactive samples themselves disappeared. Early instruction from the government and precise adherence by farmers succeeded in holding the pollution to minimum levels.

Beef Regrettably, the situation for beef was entirely different from that of raw milk. On July 8, 2011, Tokyo metropolis announced that cesium rates of 2,300 Bq/ kg were detected in beef produced in Minami–Soma City, Fukushima Prefecture.

246  Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano 2500 Total Average

Yen/kg

2000

1500

Fukushima Average

1000

11

1

20

n. Ju

11

01

.2

Ap r

20 b.

Fe

De

c.

20

10

10 20

0 O

ct.

10

Au g

.2

01

0

20

n. Ju

10

Ap r

.2

01

09

20

20

b.

c. De

Fe

09 20

9 O

ct.

09

00

Au g

.2

9

20

n. Ju

09

00

.2

Ap r

8

08

20

20

b.

c. De

Fe

20

00

ct.

.2

O

Au g

08

0

Figure 11.10. Change in Fukushima Beef Price in the Tokyo Wholesale Market, August 2008 to June 2011.

According to ex post facto research, it was caused by rice straws stocked outdoors. Beef contamination caused by feeding polluted rice straws to cattle was discovered in several prefectures, and the regulation to stop their shipment was finally pronounced in four prefectures: Fukushima, Miyagi, Iwate, and Tochigi. There seemed to be two causes for this expanded pollution. The first was insufficient sampling. The cattle were not only slaughtered and processed in the prefecture in which they were raised, but also in other prefectures after being shipped live. Even in the former case, the sampling in the prefectures where the cattle were raised was too limited, which led to many polluted animals being missed. The second point is that the rice straw was not inspected. As a result, polluted rice straw circulated broadly, which produced contaminated beef in some prefectures outside Fukushima. This led Japanese consumers to doubt the safety of their beef, which was reflected in the price of beef in the Tokyo Central Wholesale Market (see figure 11.10). The price graph shows a sharp fall after the cesium pollution became known in June. The average price of beef produced in Fukushima Prefecture in July 2011 fell to just 59 percent of the average price in February. Cattle farmers requested that the government perform an examination that covered all cattle, like an anti-BSE measure, but the request has not been realized yet because of a shortage of detecting facilities. Beef cattle production is an important industry in the Abukuma mountains, near the nuclear power station. The recovery of the beef cattle production is indispensable for the recovery of the region. The raw milk and beef examples show that it is important for the government and farmers to do proper management, especially in the initial stage after an accident.

Characteristics of the Evacuation Area   247  

Pollution of Fishery Products Marine Products Water containing radioactive materials drained or leaked from the nuclear power plant and polluted the coastal sea and the marine creatures there, which significantly damaged the marine fishery and its related industries. The leakage of the polluted water was known on April 2, and water with relatively low levels of pollution was drained to the sea from April 4 to April 10 to make space for more highly polluted water in storage tanks. Another leakage happened in May. As a result of these events, a large quantity of radioactive materials flowed out into the Pacific Ocean.5 After the accident, operation of the marine fishery stopped in Fukushima Prefecture. Instead, monitoring of the pollution started and continued. One of the species being monitored for contamination is rock trout, captured near Iwaki City.6 Figure 11.11 shows the amount of cesium per kilogram of rock trout. After the monitoring started in May, cesium rapidly increased and a sample exceeding the regulated value of 500 Bq/kg appeared in June. On July 15, a sample with the extremely high level of 3,000 Bq/kg was found. After August, the values began to reduce, but samples exceeding the regulated amounts still appeared. The fishery of Fukushima Prefecture was reopened partially in September 2012. After a sampling examination of the radioactivity, the fish is shipped. However, because of fishery restrictions the fish catches of 2014 were just 1.9 percent of the

Becquerels per kilogram

3,000 2,500 2,000 1,500 1,000 500

Ma y Ma 16 y Jun 23 e Jun 06 e Jun 13 e Jun 20 e Jun 27 e2 Jul 8 y0 Jul 4 y0 Jul 5 y1 Jul 1 y Au 15 g Au 01 g Au 02 g Au 22 g Au 23 g Au 29 g Sep 30 t0 8

0

Figure 11.11. Radioactive Cesium in Rock Trout Near Iwaki City, May–September 2011.

248  Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano

2010 numbers. The fishery, needless to say, is an important local industry in a coastal region already suffering from tsunami damage. In the near future revival of the marine products industry is expected.

River Fish For the final case, sweetfish’s pollution is shown here. Sweetfish, which is called “ayu” in Japanese, is the most popular and important resource for river fishing in Japan. Wild sweetfish lay eggs near river mouths from autumn to winter. The hatched fish stay near the river mouth during the winter, then go upstream from spring to early summer. Their migrations are often interrupted by dams, so in early summer river fishery cooperatives release significant numbers of young sweetfish purchased from fish-farming companies. The 2011 nuclear accident happened in the middle of March, when the upstream journey of infant sweetfish seems to have already begun, but before the artificial release by river co-ops. Taking such conditions into consideration, many of the sweetfish caught for monitoring might have been polluted by the radioactive materials gathering at the upper reaches of the rivers. Figure 11.12 shows the cesium density of sweetfish. In May and June, highly polluted samples appeared, such as 2,200 Bq/kg in Minami–Soma City, 2,080 Bq/ kg in Date City, and 1,200 Bq/kg in Fukushima City. Like with other agriculture and forestry products, high levels of pollution appeared in the northern part of the prefecture. In contrast, the values were rather lower in the western part. In other words, lower levels of pollution extended over a wider area distant from the nuclear plant. Sweetfish contamination can show that the rivers and forests surrounding the upper reaches areas have been widely polluted by radioactive materials. Because

Figure 11.12. Radioactive Cesium in Sweetfish, May–June and July–August 2011.

Characteristics of the Evacuation Area   249  

the decontamination of the forest is an not easy task, long-term monitoring will be necessary.

Conclusion Radioactive materials discharged by the accident at Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station contaminated its neighboring area. Residents were compelled to evacuate from their homes, and their communities were faced with the dilemma of how they would survive in the future. As of the autumn of 2011, when I wrote this chapter, the problem of low-level radiation exposure was regarded as important, and the fear of radioactive contamination of farm products continued for a long time. But now this problem is not regarded as very serious. In the case of agricultural products, crops grown in the farmlands directly exposed to the radioactive materials were densely polluted, especially in the northern part of Fukushima Prefecture. But crops grown after the accident could escape the higher level pollution. The cases of raw milk and beef show us that proper information sharing between government and farmers played a important role in the initial stage of the accident. However, the total situation shows that we cannot be relieved by only short-term monitoring. Especially the pollution of the forests, rivers, and Pacific Ocean have become significant problems for us to tackle continuously in the future. The situation is changing even as this report is being written. On the one hand, densely polluted places have been discovered; on the other hand, Fukushima Prefecture has announced that the monitoring results of the newly harvested rice showed safe levels of pollution in 1,174 research points. In this sense, this report is a kind of spot news. Fukushima’s inspection system has changed since 3/11. It carried out examinations of one hundred thousand samplings in 2015. Rice is inspected by simple screening examination. We should continue to watch the changing situation, pursue any decontamination measure of the radioactive materials–polluted environment, and make clear the schedule for recovery of the polluted region. On December, 16, 2011, the national government stated that three broken nuclear reactors had reached a safe and stable situation, with temperatures low enough to shift the countermeasures for the accident to the next stage—the long-term process of containing and decommissioning the broken reactors. And we must get over the difficulty of restoring the disaster area and the community of people.

Notes 1. http://www.new-fukushima.jp/monitoring.php. 2. Fukushima Prefecture Agriculture, Forestry, and Marine Products Section, “Farming Technique Information No. 8,” June 13, 2011, https://www.pref.fukushima.lg.jp/download/1/ ganba8mugi-ume-H230613.pdf. 3. Initially the shipping of the wild mushrooms was not managed, but it has been stopped since September 2011. 4. Fukushima Prefecture Agriculture, Forestry and Marine Products Section, “Farming Technique Information about Farm Products with the Accident of the Tohoku District Pacific

250  Toshio Hatsuzawa and Takehiko Takano Ocean Earthquake and Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station,” March 25, 2011, https:// www.pref.fukushima.lg.jp/download/1/gijututaisaku_230325.pdf. 5. According to a May 21, 2011, Jiji Press article, about 4,700 tera Bq of radioactive material was discharged. From April 1 to April 6, 150 billion Bq f lowed out, and from May 10 to May 11, 20 terra Bq was discharged. http://www.jiji.com/jc/ graphics?p=ve_soc_jishin-higashinihon20110521j-03-w540. 6. The Pacific coast at Iwaki City is located about thirty to fifty kilometers south of Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station.

12

The Social Structures of Victimization of Fukushima Residents Due to Radioactive Contamination from the 2011 Nuclear Disaster Yukio Yotsumoto and Shunichi Takekawa The 2011 Sanriku earthquake and tsunami were huge disasters, causing 15,890 deaths, 2,590 missing, and 6,152 injured people as of February 10, 2015 (National Police Agency 2015). The large number of victims and the devastation of the coastal region of Tohoku shocked the Japanese, but another disaster, the meltdowns of nuclear reactors at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant, followed by leaks of radioactive substances, created serious and more complex issues for Japan, despite the fact that no one has been directly killed by the radioactive contamination. The complex nature of victimization of the people in Fukushima Prefecture as well as its surrounding areas, where radioactive substances were emitted, can be attributed to the invisible and long-term nature of the nuclear contamination, being coupled with no experience since the Hiroshima and Nagasaki atomic bombings seventy years ago. The people affected have suffered mentally, physically, economically, and socially in the years since. Although there have been many reports on television news shows and in newspapers, magazines, and books on how the Fukushima nuclear disaster affected the people in Fukushima, there has not been a comprehensive study on how to understand the damage inflicted on them. The complicated and multifaceted damages need to be untangled and organized. This chapter, thus, discusses the social structures of victimization experienced by people in Fukushima. It will clarify the dimensions and the time frame of the pains they bear. By presenting the social structures of victimization, countermeasures to ease the sufferings can be appropriately implemented. The Japanese have had at least two crucial experiences that provide us some valuable clues to understanding the sufferings of Fukushima residents. The first is the atomic bomb experience in Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. The atomic bombings in Hiroshima and Nagasaki led to a large volume of scientific reports on the physical and mental symptoms of atomic bomb victims and their medical treatments. In addition, it generated a genre of literature commonly referred to as “atomic bomb literature,” in which discrimination against atomic bomb victims was unmasked. 251  

252   Yukio Yotsumoto and Shunichi Takekawa

The second is the environmental pollution experienced from the 1950s to the 1970s, which coincided with Japan’s high economic growth but caused notorious diseases, such as Minamata disease (organic mercury poisoning) and Itai-Itai disease (cadmium poisoning). Medical doctors and scientists were the principal investigators to detect the causes and treatments, but sociologists also participated in research on environmental pollution. They taught us of the existence of social and economic dimensions of victims’ sufferings, which had been largely ignored by the government and the scientific community. This chapter develops a model for understanding the social structures of victimization of Fukushima residents. It is developed by utilizing the social structures of victimization originally proposed by Iijima (1992, 1993), who tried to understand the sufferings caused by severe environmental pollution in Japan and by integrating descriptive accounts written in atomic bomb literature. Based on this model, the situation of Fukushima is analyzed utilizing data obtained from newspaper articles in the Asahi Shimbun newspaper between March 12, 2011, and January 31, 2012, and others in the Yomiuri, Mainichi, and Sankei newspapers. The conclusion section presents the implications of the analysis.

Japan’s Past Experiences Helpful to Understand Situations of Fukushima Residents Atomic Bomb Literature The atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945 left a lasting impact on the victims. By the end of December 1945, about 210,000 people had died. According to the Japanese Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare (2015), there were 192,719 survivors as of March 2014. The survivors suffered from two types of illnesses caused by atomic bomb radiation. The first type involved acute disorders, such as burns due to the thermal flash, wounds and broken bones from the blast, and nausea, weariness, and hair loss due to radiation. The second type included illnesses that became apparent after four months of radiation exposure. They included keloids, leukemia, atomic bomb cataracts, cancers, and microcephaly. These illnesses have been well documented in medical reports and described in atomic bomb literature. Concerns of Fukushima residents are the second type of illnesses, which address the possibility of leukemia and cancers. These concerns could be eased by science and medical treatments. Atomic bomb literature provided us a social dimension of sufferings that had not been addressed thoroughly in medical and scientific reports. Masuji Ibuse’s Kuroi Ame [Black Rain] (1979), Mitsuharu Inoue’s Chi no Mure [A Flock of the Ground] (1992), and Kyoko Hayashi’s Matsuri no Ba [A Place for a Festival] (1988) describe discrimination against atomic bomb victims (Kuroko 2011). In these novels, acute disorders and atomic bomb illnesses of keloids, leukemia, and cancers are vividly described. However, the more critical role of these works was to uncover a social dimension of victimization. These novels made clear that atomic bomb survivors are

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the victims of war, suffering from physical and mental pains. Furthermore, by being the targets of discrimination from the public, their damage doubled. In Ibuse’s Black Rain, the protagonist is a young woman of marriageable age. Whenever offers of marriage are discussed, a rumor that she was working as a volunteer in the city of Hiroshima at the time of the atomic bombing is brought up, and then the talks are cancelled. Also, three men in a small village who have survived and are showing slight symptoms of an A-bomb disease are advised by a doctor to take a stroll to maintain their health; however, villagers consider them to be lazy people. In Hayashi’s Matsuri no Ba, the author writes about a story in a magazine for elementary schoolchildren that features forty-five monsters, among which is a radiation victim monster called Hibakuseijin (a radiation exposed extraterrestrial being) with a keloid pattern. Also, Hayashi narrates a woman’s concealment of her status as a radiation victim to her husband, although they have already had six children. To keep it secret, she refuses to participate in an alumni reunion and even asks the organizer of the reunion not to send her an invitation card for fear of disclosure. In Inoue’s Chi no Mure, the mother of a teenage daughter who has shown symptoms of atomic bomb illness lies to everyone that she was not in the city of Nagasaki when the atomic bomb was dropped. She thinks that if her presence in Nagasaki at that time were revealed, her daughter’s life would be destroyed, and that she would never be able to marry. Inoue also describes double discrimination experienced by burakumin, the former outcast. He lets a female character speak about it: “You! Do you know how people talk about this area, Kaito Shinden? You know, don’t you? If we are burakumin, you are burakumin who keep bleeding (due to an atomic bomb illness). Our burakumin’s blood will not change. But your blood will rot from within and it will continue for generations. You will be called atomic bomb burakumin and you cannot give your daughters away in marriage or cannot find a wife” (Inoue 1992, 189). Radiation victims are described as outcasts in Japanese society. The atomic bomb literature reveals that atomic bomb survivors were not embraced by society. Instead, people tended to exclude them from society because of a widespread perception of impurity. The survivors internalized their impure identity and tried to hide it.

A Model of Victimization due to Environmental Pollution Iijima (1992, 1993), an environmental sociologist, developed a model of social structures of environmental pollution victims. In this model, she introduces nine types of damage that victims may experience at an individual and household level. They are: (1) damage to life, (2) health damage, (3) a decline in the standard of living, (4) deterioration of human relationships, (5) damage to plans for one’s life, (6) damage to a cultural dimension of life, (7) damage to resources of the natural environment, (8) loss of space and time, and (9) psychological burden. The first damage is the most severe, in which a family member or members die from environmental pollution. If the victim is the head of a household, much more damage will follow, such as a decline in the standard of living and damage to plans

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for one’s life in addition to the psychological burdens of sorrow and anger. The second damage can also be severe when the victims have to spend their lives confined to bed. Minamata disease caused these two types of damage. The third type of damage is an economic aspect of life. Job loss or a decline in income due to health problems or the death of a breadwinner results in a decline in the standard of living. The deterioration of human relationships means that the problem of environmental pollution triggers distress in human relationships among family members, coworkers, neighbors, friends, and schoolmates. This occurs due to mental stress and differences in how to conceive the environmental pollution and ways to solve it. Minamata patients were discriminated against by the public and often perceived as bogus patients who just wanted to receive compensation. The victims also faced difficulties in planning for their life. Life plans that victims had before have to be altered due to health and financial problems generated by environmental pollution. They may have to give up marriage, education, employment, and purchasing houses. The damage to a cultural dimension of life means that the victims’ leisure activities are restricted. Environmental pollution also causes deterioration of natural resources. In the case of a house, it may destroy trees and flowers in a garden. The victims also lose time and space in a sense that they lose what they have invested for a long time or they have to spend time to negotiate with the government and an industrial polluter for compensation or to sue them and to sell their land for living expenses. The last damage, psychological burden, is the most widespread suffering the victims have to face. It ranges from sorrow, frustration, despair, apathy, and fear to anger. In the worst case, the survivors of environmental pollution may commit suicide out of despair. These nine types of damage are interconnected and may intensify the damage. Iijima (1993) illustrates interconnectedness and intensification of damages using health damage as an example. A husband suffering from health damage may lose the ability to work. This leads to the changing roles of family members. A wife who stayed home may have to work full-time to support the family. It usually results in a decline in income and housekeeping quality. Health damage further leads to an increase in family expenses (for example, medical and nursing care expenses). The decline in income will strain a family budget. Health damage also brings about a decline in the quality of leisure and cultural activities. These interconnected damages within a household generate a decline in the standard of living, a change in one’s life plan, a deterioration of human relationships inside the family, and psychological burden. Health damage further creates social alienation that results in psychological burden and deterioration of human relationships outside of the family. Damage to health brings about an adverse effect on a victim’s personality as well. Their personality may become negative as they accumulate anger, hatred, and sorrow when they negotiate with polluters and government agencies, communicate with community members and the mass media, and receive medical treatments (Iijima 1992). Environmental pollution not only damages people at an individual and family level, but also damages community. For example, in the case of Minamata City, it destroyed a fishing ground and fishing community.

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Iijima’s model of victimization due to environmental pollution provides us a comprehensive understanding of damages that victims experience. They have to go through different kinds of damages that are interconnected in social life and may intensify their sufferings.

The Social Structures of Victimization of Fukushima Residents Fukushima Residents’ Dimensions of Damage Japan’s past experiences with atomic bombs and environmental pollution indicate that there are multiple aspects that can cause pain to the victims. Having considered these, this chapter proposes eleven dimensions of damage Fukushima residents face due to radioactive contamination:   1. Damage to life (or death)   2. Health damage   3. A decline in the standard of living (including an increase in family expenditures, decline or loss in income and loss of one’s job, and decline in the quality of everyday activities)   4. Deterioration of human relationships   5. Damage to plans for one’s life (including change in the roles of family members)   6. Damage to a cultural dimension of life   7. Loss of space (including damage to resources of the natural environment)   8. Loss of time (including loss of invested time and time spent to negotiate with and sue the victimizer)   9. Psychological burden (including personality changes) 10. Damage to community 11. Discrimination and social alienation (including people’s lack of understanding of the situation in Fukushima)

A Brief Introduction of Fukushima and Its Disaster Fukushima is the southernmost prefecture of the Tohoku region. It is approximately two hundred kilometers north of Tokyo. Its area is 13,783.75 square kilometers, the third largest prefecture, after Hokkaido and Iwate. The Fukushima Daiichi and Daini nuclear power plants are located in its coastal area. Tokyo Electric Power Company (TEPCO) owns and runs those power plants’ ten reactors to send electricity to the Tokyo metropolitan area. On March 11, the tsunami hit Fukushima’s coast and immediately damaged three out of the six reactors at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant. The next day, the Japanese government ordered the people within a twenty-kilometer radius of the plant to evacuate from the area. In April, the government officially designated the twenty-kilometer radius of the plant the evacuation zone and prohibited public access. The twenty-kilometer radius covers the entirety of nine municipalities and parts of three more, where over ninety thousand people

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lived at that time. They moved to other municipalities in Fukushima as well as other prefectures across the Japanese archipelago, from Hokkaido to Okinawa. The national government, the Fukushima prefectural government, and the municipal governments redesignated the evacuation zone in April 2012. Many residents in Fukushima outside the evacuation zone also moved out their home municipalities for fear of radioactive contamination and for other reasons. The population of Fukushima fell by over fifty-four thousand people from March 2011 to March 2012, according to the Fukushima prefectural government.

The Analysis of the Dimensions of Damage This section reports damages Fukushima residents experience in the eleven dimensions introduced above caused by radioactive contamination. Data for this discussion come from articles from the Yomiuri, Mainichi, Sankei and Asahi newspapers. The Asahi newspaper was reviewed particularly thoroughly between March 12, 2011, and January 31, 2012. In this period, Asahi reported 353 stories and comments related to Fukushima’s radioactive contamination damage.

Damage to Life There has been no report on any death resulting directly from radiation exposure. However, indirectly, the nuclear disaster took the lives of many people, especially in the evacuation zone. First, fifty elderly people and patients died during and after the evacuation from their nursing homes and hospitals in the zone (NHK 2011). They simply could not survive such a severe situation or could not receive proper medical treatments during the emergency. Second, several suicides were also reported, and there were elderly people and farmers who reportedly were desperate after the disasters. In addition, Asahi reported that sixty-eight people died from suicide in May 2011 in Fukushima Prefecture; it was a 39 percent increase from the same month of the previous year. Although the future is unknown, in the long-term, residents in Fukushima may die from radiation-caused illnesses, such as cancer. It is also reported that many victims of the tsunami in the twenty-kilometer radius area could have been saved if there had been no nuclear disaster at Fukushima Daiichi. Because of the evacuation order, the rescue efforts in the area around the power plant were terminated. In Fukushima Prefecture, nearly twenty-five hundred people died from the earthquake and tsunami, and many of them were from the coastal area around the nuclear power plant.

Health Damage Potential health damage by radioactive substances leaked from the wrecked reactors is the major concern for residents in Fukushima as well as people in other parts of Japan. It is so far just potential damage; there has been no report on any real health damage from radiation. There are mainly five types of people who are concerned about potential health damage by radioactive substances: workers at the nuclear power plant, residents of the municipalities in the evacuation zone, residents in Fukushima

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outside the evacuation zone, people of other prefectures around Fukushima, such as Iwate Prefecture, and people throughout Japan. First, workers at Fukushima Daiichi were exposed to radioactive substances. In the early stage of the nuclear disaster, the safety of the workers was ignored due to confusion, lack of experience, and faulty safety management by TEPCO. Many workers were under a high level of radiation without carrying a portable dosimeter. On March 24, three workers were accidentally exposed to a high level of radiation and were hospitalized for several days. Second, residents of the municipalities in the evacuation zone were exposed to radiation until they were ordered to leave their homes. How long residents stayed in evacuation areas affects the level of radiation exposure. In the small town of Futaba, which is on the border with the town of Okuma, where the nuclear power plant is located, patients and staff members of the Futaba Kosei Hospital were exposed to a very high level of radiation, and a decontamination procedure was required. They were exposed to radiation when they were waiting for helicopters of the Ground Self-Defense Force at a high school field during the evacuation process. (This is an example of an area where a very high level of radiation was dispersed in an early stage of the nuclear disaster.) Third, residents of the other municipalities in Fukushima are also concerned about health damage by radioactive substances. Dispersion of very high levels of radioactive substances has been found, especially in areas northwest of the nuclear power plant. In other directions, high levels of radiation have also been recorded. Fukushima, Koriyama, and Iwaki, the three most populated cities in Fukushima Prefecture, have had hot spots. In general, residents in Fukushima Prefecture have begun to worry about health risks associated with radiation exposure. That is why many of them left the prefecture, and many others have had their children move and live in other prefectures. Fourth, residents in many other prefectures in East Japan have begun to worry about health risks by radiation. Those prefectures include Iwate and Miyagi in the Tohoku region, and those in the Tokyo metropolitan area. The level of exposure is lower than that of Fukushima residents, but fear of radiation-related illnesses cannot be dismissed by many, even those outside Fukushima. Parents particularly worry about their children, who have a higher risk of thyroid disorder. People are also exposed to radiation indirectly. Radiation exposure from food is a major concern for not only Fukushima residents, but for all Japanese. Although vegetables, crops, and seafood contaminated with radioactive substances were banned from the market, there is no guarantee that an inspection was comprehensive or that the levels the government determined are indeed safe. Food safety was questioned because of an incident in which radiation-contaminated beef came on the markets across Japan. In this incident, a farmer fed radiation-contaminated straw to his beef cattle. Also, consumers worried about organic fertilizers used for private kitchen gardens that were sold all over Japan through nationwide home centers. In a survey conducted by Asahi and Kyoto University, about 80 percent of the respondents are concerned about radioactive substances contained in food (Asahi Shimbun, January 19, 2012). People have also been exposed to radiation via construction materials. In

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Nihonmatsu City, Fukushima Prefecture, contaminated concrete was used to build an apartment and a school-commuting road. Health damage by radiation exposure is uncertain and requires a long-term perspective. So far, any damage has not been reported officially, and thus has created mostly psychological sufferings among residents in a variety of prefectures with hot spots. However, this has also caused financial burdens, as many people spend extra money to relocate themselves or their children from hot spot areas and to buy food from places far from the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant (which will be discussed in the next section). Although it is not directly linked to radiation exposure, many people from the evacuation zone experienced health damage in evacuation shelters. Due to insufficient living space, life at evacuation sites can lead to many health problems, including infectious diseases, venous thrombosis, disuse syndrome, hyperthermia, and hypothermia. Evacuees with regular health problems tend to have their symptoms aggravated.

A Decline in the Standard of Living (Including an Increase in Family Expenditures, Decline or Loss in Income and Loss of One’s Job, and Decline in the Quality of Everyday Activities) Due to the disaster, the standard of living of Fukushima residents has declined. First, evacuees have to spend extra money for transportation, accommodation, and household goods. One example is a woman who was evacuated from Minamisoma City and who lives in Tsuruga City, Fukui Prefecture, with her daughter. Her husband lives in Koriyama City in Fukushima Prefecture due to his job, and another daughter lives in Tokyo, where she is attending college. Thus, the maintenance cost of their own house in Minamisoma City and the costs associated with living at three different places are overwhelming her, as is the psychological burden due to the separation of family members. Also, expenditures associated with radiation decontamination may tighten the family budget further. The government basically pays for the expense, but its support is limited. (TEPCO compensates only up to 5,000 yen for one act of decontamination.) The Cabinet Office of Japan estimates that radiation decontamination costs 700,000 yen for a house with less than a four-hundred-square-meter lot. However, the governmental support is limited to the area of 104 cities, towns, and villages in eight prefectures, because they have a level of radiation more than 1 microsievert (µSv). The government will not pay more than 700,000 yen, even if it costs more than that. Families with small children may want to reduce the level of radiation of their houses to less than 1 µSv; in that case, they have to spend their own money. A kindergarten in Koriyama City in Fukushima Prefecture spent 2 million yen to conduct decontamination. Unlike public kindergartens, private ones are subsidized for only half the price of decontamination if it is less than 1 µSv, and the rest has to be shouldered by them, part of which may have to be borne by the parents of the kindergartners. Second, unemployment or decline in income is the major factor for the decline in

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the standard of living. Forced evacuation meant the loss of employment and income. In a survey of evacuees conducted by Asahi and Professor Akira Imai at Fukushima University (Asahi Shimbun, October 9, 2011), 62 percent of the respondents reported that they do not have prospects for a livelihood. On employment, 42 percent of the breadwinners do not have a prospect to return to work at their previous place of employment. Only 7 percent of them have a possibility to do the same job as before, and 27 percent of them have already returned to previous jobs. Eleven percent replied that they did not know, and 6 percent gave no answer. Some evacuees have landed new jobs, but many of these jobs are temporary or provide a lower salary than their previous employment. Age and the distance between the workplace and one’s residence discourages many evacuees from finding a job. Third, the deterioration in daily life activities causes a decline in the quality of life. When being evacuated, senior residents’ work in the fields and social gatherings were disrupted as well as younger people’s club activities. People in makeshift housing tend to stay home, which may provoke psychological problems. Nonevacuees in a variety of municipalities in Fukushima Prefecture are also curtailed in their daily activities, such as outdoor activities of children, for fear of radiation.

Deterioration of Human Relationships Residents of Fukushima have been divided, and they suffer from deterioration of human relationships. Social divisions appeared when some of them voluntarily left Fukushima and when those from the evacuation zone received different amounts of compensation. Some people began to hate each other and envy others who gained more. There is a gap between people who voluntarily evacuated and people who decided to stay in their hometowns. Because people who decided to stay have a strong love for their hometowns, they feel betrayed by those who left and tend to blame them. When a voluntarily evacuated farmer returned to his hometown temporarily, he heard people who stayed make such statements as: “It is a selfish act to run away from this hometown” and “Those who evacuated from this town enjoy taking a hot spring bath in evacuation sites.” The farmer thinks that when he returns home, his relationship with people who stayed will be difficult. A woman who lives in Fukushima City was encouraged to move out of Fukushima Prefecture by a friend who lives outside the prefecture. However, her two sons (a ninth grader and a second year high school student) adamantly refused to evacuate from Fukushima. They were pressured to stay by their friends. When people evacuate, they do not say goodbye to neighbors and schoolmates because it is regarded as a betrayal. There is an oppressive atmosphere in which concern for radioactive contamination cannot be expressed openly. Among evacuees, there is also a gap that was generated by the amount of compensation provided for different types of evacuation sites. The dispute review board for nuclear liability decides upon estimated amounts as reparation for psychological burden during evacuation. Those who stay in a friend’s or relative’s house, rented an apartment, hotel, or inn can receive 100,000 yen per month, while those who stay in a gymnasium, school, or community hall can receive 120,000 yen. The difference in

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the amount is a source of frequent complaint. A woman who stays in a school complains that only a 20,000-yen difference is too small because in such an evacuation site troubles happen on a daily basis, in contrast to an evacuation to an inn or hotel.

Damage to Plans for One’s Life (Including Change in the Roles of Family Members) People’s life plans are altered on a large scale. The government restructured the evacuation zone into three different categories in April 2012. They are a zone in preparation for having the evacuation order lifted, a zone with restricted entry, and a zone where no one is allowed to return or inhabit. In the last zone, it is assumed that it will take decades to remove radioactive substances to the level in which people can live. This time span indicates that many elderly people will not have a chance to go home while they are alive. It also indicates that people in younger generations will settle down where they temporarily moved after the nuclear disaster and will not return to their hometowns. A survey by Asahi and Professor Imai at Fukushima University (Asahi Shimbun, October 9, 2011) shows that 18 percent of the respondents who fled from the no-entry zone think they will never be able to return home, and 16 percent of them think it will be more than twenty years before they can go home. Even outside the no-entry zone, young people who worry about their children’s health change plans for their life. For example, a young couple with a two-month-old boy moved to Hokuto City in Yamanashi Prefecture from Koriyama City in Fukushima Prefecture, and decided to settle down in Hokuto City. Although Koriyama City is sixty kilometers from the nuclear power plant, they worried about their baby’s health during pregnancy. To move to Hokuto City, the husband quit his job, which he had worked for four years. Although they are digging into their savings right now, they hope to do farming for their living in Hokuto City. Change in a family role is a potential burden to affected members of a family. One such case is a fifteen-year-old female whose family consists of herself, her parents, and a younger brother. They used to live together in Iwaki City in Fukushima Prefecture. After the disaster, her parents encouraged her and her brother to evacuate voluntarily from the city. Due to their jobs, the parents were not able to move out with them. She and her brother moved to Mito City in Ibaraki Prefecture, where a private high school accepted children from the disaster areas as students. Since no parents are around, the female student has to take care of her brother like a parent. According to the Fukushima Prefectural Government, the number of children in the prefecture younger than fifteen years old fell by over fifteen thousand from April 2011 to May 2012. Many of the children living outside Fukushima are away from their parents.

Damage to a Cultural Dimension of Life Hobby and recreational activities of an individual and family have been curtailed due to the nuclear disaster. Many recreational facilities have been closed and people in evacuation sites have not been in the mood to do recreational activities. Japan Football Village (J-Village), a national training center for soccer run by

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the Japan Football Association, in the town of Naraha in the evacuation zone, was technically closed after the nuclear disaster. It has been used for nuclear power plant workers’ lodging and other purposes. J-Village was built to be a training center for soccer teams, from amateurs to professionals. But it was actually used not only for soccer games and training, but for a variety of sports, such as rugby, American football, and basketball. It also ran a special soccer school for junior high and high school students, where they were trained to be elite soccer players in the future. The school was temporarily relocated to Gotenba City in Shizuoka Prefecture. People from the town of Namie in the evacuation zone struggled to keep their traditional dance, “Uketo no taue odori.” Namie residents were moved to a variety of places, not only in Fukushima Prefecture but also in other prefectures. Child dancers were able to demonstrate their traditional art in November 2011, in Koriyama City in Fukushima Prefecture. People from municipalities in the evacuation zone missed their traditional performing arts and local festivals. Thus, traditional culture, which is often embedded in locality, faces the possibility of disappearance as a result of the disaster. Generally, many parents in Fukushima Prefecture do not allow their children to play outside even when they live away from the nuclear power plants or when decontamination treatments have been applied to local playgrounds and other places where children play. In addition, many child sport teams in Fukushima worry about the lack of indoor training facilities and the fact that they cannot invite teams from outside Fukushima Prefecture to play games. Although not compensating for the limitation fully, many volunteer groups and NGOs outside Fukushima Prefecture launched programs to invite children of Fukushima to enjoy playing outside without fear of radiation, and many outside sport teams invited teams from Fukushima to play games.

Loss of Space (Including Damage to Resources of the Natural Environment) Loss of space is one of the major consequences of radioactive contamination. The contamination created large uninhabitable areas and areas where it is impossible to grow vegetables and crops. It also contaminated water systems, the sea, and forests in Fukushima and the neighboring prefectures. As noted above, the Japanese government arranged the evacuation zone around the nuclear power plant and divided it into three different categories. The inhabited area covers the entire areas of the four municipalities, Futaba, Namie, Okuma, and Tomioka, the majority of the area of Naraha, and part of Minamisoma City. Fishing grounds have diminished: Fishery cooperatives in Fukushima Prefecture have imposed a voluntary ban on fishing since March 15, just after the nuclear disaster happened. Because of the radiation contamination of local oceans, they could not sell their fish even if they lifted the ban on the fishing business. In fact, radiation-contaminated fish have been found around the shore of Fukushima Prefecture. The level of contamination has been higher than the safety standard set up by the Japanese government. Ten thousand hectares of rice cultivation was banned by the Japanese government

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in April 2011. Fukushima Prefecture had been one of the top rice-producing prefectures in Japan. The ten thousand hectares comprise approximately one-eighth of the rice paddies in Fukushima Prefecture. The land includes the government-designated evacuation zone and its surrounding areas. The Japanese government measured the radioactive cesium in rice paddies and banned rice cultivation when more than 5,000 Bq/kg of radioactive cesium was found in the soil from a paddy. Rice growers in the banned land bemoaned this action and were angered. Loss of space at an individual and family level can be felt by victims when they live in evacuation sites or in temporary housing. In evacuation sites such as a gymnasium, an allocated room for a family is a space just for spreading mattresses and putting a couple of boxes. Even when they later move to newly built temporary houses, it is often much smaller than the houses they used to live in.

Loss of Time (Including Loss of Invested Time and Time Spent to Negotiate with and Sue the Victimizer) People invested large amounts of time in their businesses, studies, and improvements of life. The investment of time came to naught. Farmers were preparing land to plant rice, vegetables, and fruits and were feeding their dairy and beef cattle. However, they had to halt the work due to evacuation orders or they could not ship the agricultural products due to contamination. Business owners who developed business networks have had to give up their businesses. Some students who have prepared for an entrance examination for further study have had to change their paths. In negotiation with TEPCO, the victims have had to spend a great deal of time. In order to defend the organization, TEPCO delayed its one-off allowance to the victims, and the document to apply for reparation sent to the victims by TEPCO consisted of 160 pages of explanation and 60 pages to fill out for each person. Many victims are tired of spending time filling out such forms. It is also expected that winning the compensation requires an abundance of time in the Dispute Settlement Center for Nuclear Disaster Compensation or in court. As of September 2011 only three had reached a settlement. Due to the criticism from the public in regard to its slow pace, the center improved the process. As of December 18, 2015, 18,500 cases have been brought to the center, of which 13,142 cases reached a settlement. However, it still takes five to seven months to reach a conclusion (Dispute Settlement Center for Nuclear Disaster Compensation 2015). When the center cannot reach a compromise, a case goes to court, which requires more time before its resolution. Some groups try to confront TEPCO directly in litigation. For example, the Fukushima Bar Association prepared for litigation and asked if local business owners would join it. Also, some kindergartens in Fukushima sued TEPCO for their loss of students.

Psychological Burden (Including Personality Changes) Psychological burdens, such as anxiety, loss of hope, stress, and apathy are caused by all dimensions of damage mentioned here. Particularly, components of health

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damage, damage to plans for one’s life, and deterioration of human relationships cause acute psychological burdens. Many parents fear that radioactive contamination will cause illnesses to their children. A father in Minamisoma City was worrying about his daughter’s internal exposure to radiation while she was in the city. So his daughter took an examination. Although it yielded a satisfactory result, he still worries about her long-term health risk. Fear of internal exposure to radiation by food intake causes apprehension in many people. Worrying too much about food causes stress, which can damage one’s health—but conversely, a lack of concern about food choices may lead to actual internal exposure to radiation. In a survey by Asahi and Professor Imai at Fukushima University (Asahi Shimbun, October 9, 2011) about the effect of radioactive substances on health, 59 percent of the respondents said they worry a lot and 26 percent said they worry to some extent. For respondents who have children of less than eighteen years of age, 69 percent of them worry a lot about the health risks associated with radioactive contamination. Uncertainty about one’s future is also a major cause of psychological burden. Especially owners of small- and medium-sized businesses and the middle-aged and elderly unemployed have higher levels of anxiety. These business owners have more difficulty raising funds than a large firm, and many of them have to shoulder a double loan. The unemployed people of middle and advanced age have difficulty in finding a new job. Even when they can find a new job, oftentimes it is a temporary job or a job that pays less than they used to make. So their unrest does not disappear. This uneasiness is not relaxed by the expectation of compensation from TEPCO, but rather is magnified because of the company’s insincere attitude toward the victims and the government’s lack of integrity. Given the corporate culture of TEPCO and the lack of leadership in the government, it is likely that the amount of compensation will be less than what the victims deserve. People suffer from psychological burdens even after they leave Fukushima. Loneliness grows when a person or persons flee to an unfamiliar place. An eighty-fouryear-old woman and her daughter fled from a rural area in Fukushima to the bay area of Tokyo. The artificial landscape of Tokyo, without a scent of earth, gradually made her stay at home all the time. So, she needed help from a psychiatrist. Also, moving from a shelter to temporary housing causes psychological burdens to schoolchildren. Some families have experienced three or more moves within a year. Change from one school to another is not easy for many children because the parting is wrenching and making new friends is not always easy. Some people feel that they may have personality changes. A man who fled to Kushiro City in Hokkaido feels that his personality changed in a negative way because he cannot find long-term employment and thus cannot make a future plan.

Damage to Community Damage to community due to radioactive contamination is extensive and long-term compared to other environmental problems or natural disasters. The establishment

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of no-entry evacuation zones created ghost towns. The administrative functions of local governments have had to be relocated to neighboring cities. Water supply and drainage and hospital operations of local governments have been damaged. In addition, the incidence of burglaries has increased thirty-fold over the year before the disaster in no-entry zones; one in fifty houses has been burglarized. A large number of pets, mainly cats and dogs, were left in the evacuation zone. Apparently, many owners released those animals because they could not bring them to evacuation places. Some pets broke out from their houses or kennels by themselves. Also, a large number of swine and cattle were left at farms, and many of them somehow walked into towns. Those pets and domestic animals have been turning into de facto wild animals in the zone. The dire prospect of returning home divides people’s unity. In the town of Namie, initially, the mayor encouraged residents to unite by having the town’s goal be that all residents would return home. However, as residents began to realize that decontamination of radioactive substances is not easy, youth leaders proposed relocating the town elsewhere (NHK 2012). A division on how to reconstruct the community was created. Japan’s national problem of a declining birthrate and aging population will accelerate in these communities even if they succeed in reconstructing at their original sites, because many people of child-rearing age will not return to the community. Thus, the disappearance of communities will occur faster here than across the rest of Japan.

Discrimination and Social Alienation (Including People’s Lack of Understanding of the Situation in Fukushima) Numerous accounts of discrimination against Fukushima residents were reported in the news media, such as Yomiuri, Mainichi and Sankei, between March and May 2011. In the middle of March, elementary kids were playing in a park in Chiba Prefecture, where their family had taken refuge after leaving a Fukushima evacuation zone. Other children bullied them by saying, “Radiation will be transmitted.” Also, when a woman from Fukushima arrived at a service area of a highway in Saitama Prefecture, a passerby said to her, “Don’t come by contaminated Fukushima’s car.” A shipping company in Fukushima was asked by its customer not to come by Fukushima-licenseplated trucks because of a radiation problem. Thus, the company rented trucks and transshipped goods via Tokyo and Saitama. Also, a Saitama-based company that has a factory in Fukushima asked its employees to use Saitama-license-plated company cars because an employee who used a Fukushima-license-plated company car was denied the right to fill the gas tank at a station in the Tokyo metropolitan area. Discrimination against Fukushima residents also happened in the public sphere. In May 2011, a man from Fukushima wanted to donate his blood. He told a doctor of the Japanese Red Cross Tokyo Metropolitan Blood Center that he was from Iwaki City, near the evacuation zone around the nuclear power plants, and that he might have been exposed to radiation. After that, the doctor refused to take his blood,

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saying that genes in his blood might have been damaged. In the city of Tsukuba in Ibaraki Prefecture, municipal employees asked evacuees from Fukushima to present certificates of examination showing their radiation levels. After March 14, 2011, six hundred people took refuge in Tsukuba City. When moving into an evacuation site, they were asked by the city to take a voluntary examination of their radiation levels. The unwarranted discrimination was reported only for a short period of time. However, people in Fukushima psychologically suffered by having heard about those discriminatory acts. Rumors about Fukushima products are one of the major problems that affect many people. As described above, radioactive contamination of food is a major health concern. Thus, consumers tend to avoid agricultural and marine products from Fukushima even though they are found to be safe scientifically. Fukushima is ranked second in peach production. In Date City in Fukushima Prefecture, no peach has been identified that exceeds the limit of radiation when shipping. However, a staff member of the Japan Agricultural Cooperatives in the city mentioned that 2011’s peach harvest was good but that the unit price was only 30 percent of the previous year’s price. Also, a rice collecting company in Sukagawa City in Fukushima Prefecture received a return of their rice from an Internet customer because the company is located in Fukushima, although the rice was made in Yamagata Prefecture. Tourism is also affected by rumors. The number of guests at hotels and inns in Fukushima Prefecture declined by 40 percent between October and December 2011 compared to the same period of the previous year.

Damage Beyond Fukushima Residents Although this chapter focuses on damage to Fukushima residents, it is worthwhile to briefly discuss damage beyond Fukushima residents in order to show the severity of the disaster. There are mainly two types of victims outside Fukushima in this disaster. First, businesses are affected by rumors and the loss of opportunity. Damage caused by rumors occurs to farmers, fishermen, and tourism-related businesses like it does to businesses inside Fukushima. Even various schools (universities and Japanese language schools) that accept international students faced a sudden drop in the number of new students. Even universities located in Kyushu region (more than 960 kilometers from the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant) were affected by the decrease because parents of prospective international students worried about their children’s health. An example of loss of opportunity is that a perfumer was forced to stop its production and sales because the only supplier for an ingredient of their perfume was located within the no-entry zone. The treatment of rubble created by the tsunami in Iwate and Miyagi Prefectures has been a national issue. The Japanese government requested that municipalities outside the Tohoku region help dispose of the rubble from those prefectures. But many residents in those municipalities opposed it, and anti–nuclear power activists also petitioned the national and municipal governments not to bring in rubble from

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the prefectures in Tohoku, believing that any level of radiation-contaminated rubble would cause health damage to them. Second, consumers outside Fukushima are affected. They are exposed to potential health risks by contaminated food. Although examination of radioactive substances in food is conducted, there still is a risk that they may eat contaminated food. Consumers also spend extra money in purchasing alternative food from the western part of Japan or overseas.

The Time Frame of Damage In the previous section, we discussed factors of victimization in dimension. Here, some factors of victimization are briefly discussed by considering a chronological aspect. Damage to life (suicide) due to despair and discrimination against people from Fukushima occurred in the early days after the disaster, but it dissipated after several months. Plans of compensation for damages caused by the Fukushima accidents seemingly prevented suicides. Also, scientific explanations that radioactive substances are not infectious helped many people overcome fear or prejudice; rumors that radiation was contagious persisted for only about three months (March–May 2011). Damage to life may occur later, and if it occurs, it is preceded by health problems, such as thyroid cancer and leukemia. The immediate health problems occurred when victims stayed in shelters, where they were more likely to get infectious diseases, blood clots, and high or low body temperatures. The decline in their standards of living was sudden, as they had to evacuate, but as temporary housing was built and the compensation plan and payments materialized after several months, their standards of living gradually improved. The compensation plan partly eases the damage to one’s life plan. However, it will take many years to reach the previous standard of living, and some victims will never achieve it. The loss of space may be forever for some victims, but decontamination efforts will gradually recover space for some people. Deterioration of human relationships did not happen right after the disaster. It occurred when the people settled in shelters. Some of this damage may eventually disappear as they find permanent residences. Psychological damage is continuous, and the causes are different over time. First, psychological burdens due to health risks are continuous and long-term. Second, psychological burdens caused by discrimination are short-term. Third, psychological burdens due to the decline of standard of living and the change in life plans are distressing in the early months but are eased slightly when compensation is implemented.

Conclusion This study learns lessons from two Japanese tragic experiences, the atomic bombs in Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the environmental pollution during the 1950s and 1960s, including the development of Minamata disease. The former experience was depicted in atomic bomb literature, and the latter was theorized as social structures of pollution victims in environmental sociology in Japan. They are applied to under-

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stand the suffering of Fukushima residents after the disaster of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant. Eleven dimensions of damage were identified by the two past experiences: (1) damage to life, (2) health damage, (3) a decline in the standard of living, (4) deterioration of human relationships, (5) damage to plans for one’s life, (6) damage to a cultural dimension of life, (7) loss of space, (8) loss of time, (9) psychological burden, (10) damage to community, and (11) discrimination and social alienation. Each dimension of suffering was discussed in the context of Fukushima radioactive contamination victims based on data mostly from newspaper articles between March 11, 2011, and January 31, 2012. Multidimensional suffering exists in a different time frame. This complex nature of suffering requires a long-term and nonreductionist approach for problem solving and compensation. This study also identified unwarranted discrimination against and potential health-related prejudice toward Fukushima residents, much as was suffered by atomic bomb victims. Based on the discussion above, three implications for the case of Fukushima nuclear disaster victims are presented here. First, dissemination of scientific information to the general public for accurate understanding of radioactive contamination needs to be continued. It reduced unwarranted discrimination based on the idea that radioactive contamination is infectious, but in the long run discrimination against people from Fukushima concerning marriage may occur. Thus, information on the relationship between radiation, pregnancy, and infants’ health should be publicized in a clear manner. Second, health damage has to be assessed with a long-term perspective, and Fukushima residents should keep all their health-related and radiation exposure records for future compensation. In the case of Minamata disease, many people who claimed themselves to be Minamata patients were recognized after a long period of time by the government. It took many years because patients were not able to provide evidence and because of the difficulty in finding causation between an organic mercury compound and patients’ symptoms. They were also discriminated against by the public as being bogus Minamata patients who just wanted money. Confirmation of causation between radioactive contamination and Fukushima residents’ future symptoms will be more difficult than the Minamata case, thus the government should take every effort to keep records on health and exposure to radioactivity. Third, as the discussion above indicates, damage is multidimensional and appears in a different time frame. This suggests that the suffering Fukushima residents experience is complex and not uniform. Therefore, the government should not formulate a compensation plan uniformly. Instead, it should have the flexibility to accommodate each victim’s situation and adjust as needed.

References Asahi Shimbun. 2011. “Hikisakareru Fukushima, Seikei medotatanu 62%, Daiichi genpatsujiko, Dainikai hinan jyumin kikitori chosa” [Torn Apart Fukushima: 62% of Evacuees Face Uncertain Prospect for Livelihood. The Disaster of Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant, The Second Survey of Evacuees]. October 9, page 12.

268   Yukio Yotsumoto and Shunichi Takekawa ———. 2012. “Hoshano, Kakugo wa shiteta, Kyuri mo kawamuki, Shun kieru shokutaku, Asahi Shimbun sha, Kyodai chosa” [Due to Radiation, People Peel Cucumbers, Indicating the Loss of Season in Taste, A Survey by Asahi Shimbun and Kyoto University]. January 19, page 39. Dispute Settlement Center for Nuclear Disaster Compensation. 2015. “Wakai Shyukai Tetsuduki no Jiltushi Jokyo (Heisei 27 nen 12 gastu 18 nichi Genzai)” [Implementation Report of a Mediating Settlement Procedure]. http://www.mext.go.jp/a_menu/genshi_baisho/ jiko_baisho/detail/1329118.htm. Accessed December 23, 2015. Hayashi, Kyoko. 1988. Matsuri no Ba/Giyaman Birodo [A Place for a Festival/Diamant Velvet]. Tokyo: Kodansha. Ibuse, Masuji. 1979. Black Rain. Tokyo: Kodansha International. Iijima, Nobuko. 1992. “Social Structures of Pollution Victims.” In Industrial Pollution in Japan, edited by Jun Ui, 154–172. Tokyo: United Nations Univ. Press. ———. 1993. “Kankyo Mondai to Higaino Mekanizumu” [Environmental Problem and the Mechanism of Victimization]. In Kankyo Shakaigaku [Environmental Sociology], edited by Nobuko Iijima, 81–100. Tokyo: Yuhikaku. Inoue, Mitsuharu. 1992. Chi no Mure [A Flock of the Ground]. Tokyo: Kawade Shobo Shinsha. Kuroko, Kazuo. 2011. “Hiroshima, Nagasaki kara Fukushima e: Kaku ga motarasu Inpei to Sabetsu no Kouzou” [From Hiroshima and Nagasaki to Fukushima: The Structure of Concealment and Discrimination Brought by Nuclear Disaster]. Buraku Kaihou [Buraku Liberation] 651:68–75. Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare. 2015. “Hibakusha su” [The Number of Radioactive Victims]. http://www.mhlw.go.jp/stf/seisakunitsuite/bunya/0000049130.html. Accessed February 13, 2015. National Police Agency. 2015. “Heisei 23 nen Tohoku Chiho Taiheiyo oki Jishin no Higaijokyo to Keisatsu Sochi” [The Damage Situation and Police Measures for the 2011 Tohoku Earthquake]. http://www.npa.go.jp/archive/keibi/biki/higaijokyo.pdf. Accessed February 13, 2015. NHK. 2011. Kurozu Appu Gendai: Sukueta Hazuno Inochi, Netakiri Hinan no Kadai [CloseUp Today: Life That Should Have Been Saved, Issues of Evacuation of Bedridden Patients]. December 1. ———. 2012. NHK Supesharu: Furusato ka Ijyuuka, Genpatsu Hinansha tachi no Ketsudan [NHK Special: Hometown or Relocation? Decision by Evacuees of the Nuclear Power Plant Accident]. March 24.

13

Internet-Age Parents and Children after the 2011 Earthquake and Tsunami Yukiko Dejima and Wakako Ikeda-Ohtsubo In the early afternoon of March 11, 2011, we were at our parents’ home in Aoba-ku, Sendai. The babies were taking naps, and a three-year-old girl was playing in the living room. Then we felt the quake. We immediately cuddled our children and waited out the shake. The shake was persistent and violent. All we could do was pray for our children’s safety. When the floor became stable at last, we were relieved to find our family safe, though we also found that the electricity and gas were cut off. We spent the rest of the afternoon preparing for the dark and cold night, but we never dreamed of the massive tsunami hitting the area only several kilometers away from us. The 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake caused an enormous impact on children. Among the 15,821 deaths confirmed by March 11, 2015, in Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima Prefectures, 468 were children aged under ten, and 425 were aged between ten and nineteen (Cabinet Office 2011a). Another 1,514 children lost one of their parents, while 241 lost both (as of March 1, 2014). Staff members of child consultation offices visited evacuation centers to find these orphans, and found foster homes for them (Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare 2011). Many children were compelled to move out of their hometowns and live in unfamiliar environments. From Fukushima, some areas of which were damaged by the nuclear power plant accident, 9,040 children under fifteen years old moved out of the prefecture in 2011, while only 214 of the same age group moved out the year before (Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications 2012). Tens of thousands of children lost their safe living environments after the earthquake, either by losing their homes, families, nurseries, schools, or fertile lands free from radiation. How did they survive the difficult situation soon after the earthquake and tsunami? Did they get the support and necessities they really needed? How did parents try to protect their children in difficult living conditions and from radiation, and where did they get the information they needed? This chapter aims to clarify experiences and needs of parents and children after the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake, and to consider how new media helped them. Japan in 2011 was a society where the Internet, via cell phones and IT devices, prevailed, and although not many elderly people in the devastated area benefitted from these devices, the mothers and fathers of young children used such devices on a daily basis. In the face of government immobility and a lack of information after the catastrophe, parents 269  

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were supported by information and new networks of people they could reach from their IT devices. These new media and new networks of people supplemented mutual supports within their weakening local communities, and enabled parents’ self-help and mutual help regardless of where they lived. We left our parents’ house several days after the quake, and had different experiences in Sendai and in Tokyo, respectively. The next two sections are written by Wakako Ikeda-Ohtsubo alone, based on her experience as the mother of a baby in Sendai in Miyagi Prefecture, followed by another section written by Yukiko Dejima, as the mother of children in Tokyo, discussing the use of new media by Internet-age parents and their self-help and mutual help.

Needs for Children and Parents in the Disaster Area: Seen by a Mother in Sendai Wakako Ikeda-Ohtsubo When the long-lasting powerful shaking stopped, I was relieved to see my ten-monthold daughter lying in bed half awake after a nap, apparently not much aware of the big event. I went downstairs and was happy to find my sister and her two children (one age three and another eleven months) were also fine, the younger one still fast asleep. It is probably worth reporting that a magnitude 9.0 quake was not powerful enough to wake up my nephew from his nap. After a brief moment of joy, we found the gas and electric power were out. The cell phones and Internet also were out of service. Luckily enough, the tap water was still running. We were fortunate in that we had at home plenty of food, bottled drinks, packages of diapers, and companions to go through the crisis together, as a family reunion was planned for that day. I believe the last item is at the top of peoples’ needs in any type of emergency. When I was asked to write a report on the emergency and relief supplies from the point of view of the disaster area of the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake, I at first hesitated, because my experience as a “sufferer” was not tragic at all and may disappoint some readers. The real tragedy, which thousands of tsunami sufferers in the coastal area experienced that day, is actually beyond my comprehension. Nevertheless, I decided to write this report because I think the experience of the disaster would be different between one person and another, and one can learn important lessons from each experience. I hope this section will be able to provide useful information to the readers, especially those who are parents or caretakers of small children, who want to know how to prepare or what to do in an emergency. Besides, I hope my report also will be helpful for people who are interested in supporting children and their parents in catastrophe area.

Cold Protection The first night of the disaster was freezing. In the city of Sendai, the temperature fell to −0.6ºC (31ºF). It must have been colder in coastal towns and villages, although the temperature record is missing from that night because the instruments were

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damaged by the tsunami. People who survived the night on the street, in cars, or in buildings without heating remember the night as “the most freezing night ever” (Shanti Volunteer Association 2011). It is reported that not a few people died of hypothermia after they got soaked with seawater (Yomiuri Online 2011). Therefore, cold protection would be a top priority to save lives when a disaster occurs in winter months. It was rather easy to keep children warm, by bundling them up and letting them play around. But we still needed to warm ourselves to stay healthy enough to survive the coming days. For our family, the most useful tool was a nonelectric kerosene heater, which can work not only as a heater but also as a cooking stove. We were therefore able to prepare warm milk and meals for our children. We also had a portable gas stove, but we could use it only for the first night because we did not have spare cartridges. The next best thing was a hot water bottle; it kept my futon bed warm until the next morning with a single blanket. In my case, it turns out my daughter can also serve as a warm bottle. I kept cuddling and hugging her all the time, which made both of us very warm. In an emergency you can use plastic bottles as hot water bottles. This brilliant idea was born after the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake in 1995 and has been employed during each big disaster since (Kobe Shimbun 2007). This time as well, supporters around the country sent bottles and handmade bottle covers to evacuation centers, which saved many people from the cold (Asahi Shimbun 2011a). Note that nursing professionals warn that this usage may risk burns and do not recommend it for people with circulatory disease (Nihon Kango Kyokai 2010). Blankets are a very common relief supply and usually arrive first in disaster areas, but people who are soaked need dry clothes and underwear prior to warming themselves in blankets. A colleague of mine found strangers upstairs in her flooded house the day after the earthquake. They had drifted to her house after getting caught in the tsunami and were able to survive the cold night by changing out of their wet clothes and into dry ones that they found in her closet. The number of blankets at each shelter was far from sufficient, and it was often the case that emergency blankets stored in each school were not able to be reached, because they had been stored in the school gym and flooded (Memory Ever-Daishinsai 2011). Later experts pointed out that blankets should be vacuum-packed and stored on the rooftops of schools that were designated as tsunami-evacuation buildings (Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology 2011). In my neighborhood, many people who did not have a heating device at home spent the night in their car with the heat on. This consequently exacerbated the gas shortage in the whole area, which lasted over two weeks. There are many things to keep you protected from the cold, but it is not always ready to be used. Hundreds of people shared a few kerosene heaters in evacuation centers, and hot water was not available in many places. It is reported that someone used a Styrofoam box to keep warm a newborn baby who was born out of hospital, and that teachers and parents wrapped children in sheets of newspaper to help them survive outdoors during the

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night. It was not relief supply, but daily preparedness and prompt ideas at each site that saved children in the freezing first night of the disaster.

Water, a Top Priority “What bothered you the most after the earthquake?” I think the most frequent answer to this question would be the water cut-off. People in the wider parts of the disaster area had to stand in a long line in the cold every day to get water from water trucks, which came from all over the country. For a long time the disaster area suffered from dust and mud without water for laundry and showers. Since the sewage treatment facility in Sendai had been damaged by the tsunami and therefore all discharged water was flowing directly into the sea, even people in unaffected areas in Miyagi Prefecture were asked to minimize the use of water. Although drinking water was among the first-aid deliveries, the need was always urgent there and a constant supply was needed in the disaster area. Those who were fortunate enough to have tap water at home were busy driving to the coastal disaster area with plastic containers filled with water and other necessities. My husband and I also carried water to friends using handmade containers made out of a cardboard box covered with a large plastic bag, which also worked as a water tank at home. In our house, we were able to prepare milk and food for our children with bottled water, and my sister and I also drank bottled beverages because we were still breastfeeding at that time. It was not only for fear of radioactivity from the nuclear accident in Fukushima, but also of water contaminants, which could have entered the water through damaged pipes in the city. For us, ten liters of bottled water was sufficient for six grownups and three children for three days.

Saving Water and Keeping Children Clean In a situation where water usage is limited, it is difficult to keep babies clean. I used premoistend wipes that we call Oshirifuki [bottom-wiper] to clean my daughter’s body and also had her take a shower a few times with warm water prepared using a tabletop stove and a teapot as a small shower. When we got electricity at home, I read an SNS message on Mixi (Japanese SNS, whose users exceed 26.2 million) that Tagajo City next to Sendai had been out of water for weeks and that babies had had to wear the same clothes for a week. So I collected washed baby underclothes that my daughter had outgrown and took them to an evacuation center in Tagajo. Since clean baby clothes seemed to be lacking in many places, I asked my sister living in Tokyo to collect used but clean baby clothes from her friends with children, so I could take them to evacuation centers. Within a week I received more than fifty parcels from Tokyo. In addition to baby clothes, children’s clothes, toys, books, food, and many miscellaneous goods were stuffed into the boxes by mothers in Tokyo, most of whom I never met. While I was very grateful to them, it took me a great deal of time to sort the goods out and to label each item, so people in the disaster area could easily find what they needed (see photo 13.1). This is important work, because many sufferers and volunteers may otherwise end up spending their precious time sorting piles of relief goods.

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Photo 13.1. Relief goods for people in the disaster area. (Photograph by Yukiko Dejima)

I tried to save water by using paper napkins as substitutes for dishes or by covering dishes with Saran Wrap, so there would be no need for washing. We knew the microwave sterilizer was very useful for keeping baby bottles and other dishes clean, but it could also be used as a food cooker. I learned at the hospital, where my daughter was born, that babies can drink milk from a paper cup and that diapers can be hand-made with disposable bags with handles.

What Children Need: To Play After the nuclear accident in Fukushima, I had my daughter stay home until safety in Sendai was confirmed, and it was not until April 15, her birthday, that we took her for a walk in the park. The park was filled with Sakura blossoms. Apparently frustrated about staying inside the house all day long, my daughter had started pulling out all the books and stuff from shelves, almost reproducing the scene just after the big quake. She was also unhappy that we grownups kept watching bad news on the television with uneasy faces and did not pay much attention to her. My husband and I decided to take her to a nursery in the neighborhood for a few hours during the day, and this became a great refreshing change for all of us. There were also many people with children staying in evacuation centers. Parents often needed to go out to find missing persons or to clean up their destroyed houses, but they had

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a hard time finding supervision for their children while they were out. Each place was filled with evacuees, and there was no space for children to play around. Therefore I thought it was a brilliant idea that various volunteer groups offered a playing circle or childcare service at evacuation centers (Nikkei Shimbun 2011a). Childcare experts say that what children need the most after such a traumatic event is “a sense of normalcy” (Save the Children Japan 2011). Even in the middle of catastrophe, it is important to provide children time and places for playing, which keeps them going.

International Supports for Medication Supply After the power came back on the second day, we started to have a flood of bad news; devastated coastal towns, the number of dead, explosions at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant, and the evacuation of thousands of citizens. There was no end. But I was most stunned at the news that a manufacturing plant of Aska Pharmaceutical in Iwaki, Fukushima, which produced 98 percent of domestic levothyroxine sodium (Thyradin S), was damaged by the tsunami and had shut down its manufacturing line (Japan Medical Association 2011). My daughter has congenital hypothyroidism and she needs to take Thyradin S every day to grow normally. There are at least three hundred thousand people in Japan who need this medication, and the company said that they had only a one-month supply. I was very upset. Although we had a few weeks’ worth at home, what if we could not get more before we ran out? I was not able to contact my daughter’s doctor, because he was attending more urgent cases, such as patients with childhood diabetes and hypopituitarism, in which even a short period of medication interruption can lead to death. When I desperately asked some friends in Germany for help by email, they quickly collected corresponding medication from local doctors and a pharmacist within two days and arranged the shipment. Meanwhile, pediatricians and medical societies in Japan launched an urgent committee called the T4 committee, which aimed to avoid a supply shortage of levothyroxine sodium by sharing information with doctors and patients that they should minimize prescribed dosages to each patient and by requesting that the government and pharmaceutical companies make quick efforts to facilitate an emergency import (T4 Committee 2011). As it turned out, Aska Pharmaceutical was able to restart partial production on March 25, and a generic pharmaceutical company, Sandoz K.K., started importing levothyroxine sodium products from Germany by the middle of April (Sandoz 2011). On April 25, I received a box of levothyroxine sodium tablets from my precious friends in Germany. I believe that our current steady supply of levothyroxine sodium is owed to the prompt efforts of the doctors of the T4 committee, the staffs at domestic and foreign pharmaceutical companies, and the doctors and three hundred thousand patients struggling with thyroid disease in the country who tightly followed the request for minimum prescriptions and accepted imported medications. This is one of the less well-known stories of how children with diseases were saved after the earthquake. The other stories you can find elsewhere (Ishii 2011; Ishii et al. 2011; Kadowaki 2011; Yamazaki and Yoshihara 2011). In an emergency, it is good to know there are always options.

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What Gave Us Real Relief For us at that time, when our safety was not at all secured, there was nothing more encouraging than warm words and supporting offers from friends elsewhere in Japan and abroad. The first call that I got after my cellular phone started working was from a friend in Germany who was worried about my safety. Some friends also sent me emails and wrote that they would keep waiting until they heard from me. Some of them kindly told us that we could stay at their place until the situation had settled. Although everything I heard from the news was that the situation was getting worse and worse, I was able to be relaxed and so was my daughter, probably because we knew that we would never be alone. In my diary on April 25, when I received the medication from my German friend, I wrote, “Today is the most peaceful day for me and my daughter since the day of the earthquake.” It was not only the medication itself, but also my thankfulness to my friends and others who made it possible for the package to be delivered all the way from Germany to my house in the disaster area. Messages on Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube posted by unknown people also cheered us up. Although some may criticize that it is just a publicity stunt that some celebrities put themselves on YouTube to give messages to sufferers or to ask for donations, if it makes people happy, why not? Cyndi Lauper visited Ishinomaki, one of the most seriously damaged towns in Miyagi, to cheer up children with her songs. Many children were not aware of who this middle-aged American woman was, but their mothers, who always suffered the most in the middle of the disaster area, were excited with a joy. Cyndi knew that children are happy when their parents are happy. I learned through the disaster that we always should keep an eye on people who are suffering from hardships, and our constant attention plus any kinds of support could help them to survive the situation. This is probably the reason why the international press exists.

Parents’ Struggle Against Radioactive Contamination in Sendai Wakako Ikeda-Ohtsubo I used to think that the use of the word “contamination” was restricted to factories and hospitals, until the Fukushima nuclear accident. Now I have to use this word to describe streets and parks in areas around my hometown. Schools and kindergartens are now contaminated; even local foods we buy at the supermarket are contaminated. Radioactive contamination is not just a fear. It is an enormous burden, which you must carry for a lifetime, especially when you are a mother of children. The Fukushima nuclear accident and the resulting radioactive fallouts were probably the worst thing that ever happened to parents in modern Japanese society. A large number of families in areas with higher radiation doses chose to have their children and mothers move out, which often resulted in family separation, loss of jobs, and community dissolution. Although most international media reported that mothers in the Tokyo area also evacuated to western Japan or abroad to avoid radiation, most mothers actually did not take such an action. And most of those who did evacuate

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went back home a few weeks later. The reaction to the radiation varied greatly with individuals. Most of my friends with children never took any action to avoid radiation. I myself have a certain fear and often discuss with my husband whether we should move to somewhere far from Fukushima for my daughter, but we currently believe that living here—in other words, keeping our jobs and good child-rearing environment—outweighs the risk of radiation in Sendai (air dose rate 0.07–0.09 µSv/h). Although we usually select food for my daughter and do not allow her to play in ditches, we do not restrict her activity in kindergarten and parks. Nevertheless, it took us almost one year to reach this “normal” life. Here I report our struggle against radiation after the accident, together with the changing situation in the country.

Our Reaction to the Accident I noticed the tone of the voice on the radio suddenly change. Until then it had been repeatedly reporting the names of missing people. With an awkward but strong voice, the radio announcer for a news program on NHK Radio 1 started, “There seems to be a serious accident at the Fukushima No.1 nuclear power plant. . . .” I got chilled with fear. The first thing I did was unfold an atlas to check how many kilometers Sendai was away from the nuclear plant. It was about eighty kilometers. I thought the radiation would reach here, but not so soon. It was already getting dark, but my husband and I went to our apartment with a flashlight and searched in the dark for our passbooks, valuables, and things needed for my daughter. I crammed them and some of our clothes into suitcases and took them back to our parents’ house, where we were staying. There, we discussed whether we should evacuate—in other words, driving to the north—or stay in the house. Considering that the roads and streets had been damaged here and there and that our fuel level allowed us to go only up to one hundred kilometers, we chose the latter. My husband started storing tap water in handmade tanks, because its safety would soon be in question. My father decided to drive my sister and her family to Niigata, a prefecture along the Sea of Japan, so they could get back to their home in Tokyo before the situation got worse. At that time, the only information we had was that there was an explosion at one of the reactors in the power plant, and we just hoped that the wind was not blowing toward us. In the following days, the reactors in the Fukushima nuclear power plant exploded one after another and I continued to stay in the house with my daughter. My husband, who is a scientific researcher, carried his film badge dosimeter when he went out, and he checked the radiation of vegetables he got from a market with a Geiger counter in his lab. Most fortunately, Dr. Hirokazu Tamura, who is a professor at Tohoku University in Sendai, started radiation dose measurements every few hours beginning March 13 and made the data spreadsheet accessible online (Tamura 2011). According to his data, there was no considerable rise in the radiation dose, while there were apparent fallouts on March 15, 20, and 24. We later learned that there was much more fallout in the north of Sendai and also in some areas near Tokyo. It is difficult to know where to evacuate at the time of the accident. I think staying at home until you know the exact fallout data is the right answer.

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Food and Water Safety In Miyagi Prefecture, nobody seemed to speak of his or her concern as to whether local water and food was contaminated when the Fukushima nuclear accident was reported. Finding water and food for living was a top priority, and the radioactivity was not a subject of discussion at that time. Besides, local fresh food was not available because farmers could not harvest or ship their products because of lifeline damage and fuel shortages. When I started finding fresh vegetables and fruits in local supermarkets, the media simultaneously reported that the Japanese government found that agricultural products such as spinach and parsley in some prefectures contained radioactive iodine in amounts that exceeded the “temporary regulation value” (Reuters, March 19, 2011). They also reported that radioactive iodine in milk, fish, beef, and even tap water in the Tokyo area exceeded the limit. In a few weeks I started hearing that “radioactive cesium” is all around in food and soil, and would still be there even after thirty years (Reuters, March 22, 2011). Although we had already stopped using tap water for drinking and cooking, I was horrified by the fact that water and food were not safe anymore. I started spending my spare time going from one shop to another to find fresh food from places as far from Fukushima as possible. The first things I bought were extra bottled water, powdered milk, and other preserved food produced before the accident for future use. I asked my friends and relatives in western Japan to send their local fresh food. I did everything that I could to give my daughter “radioactive-free” food. I knew there is actually no “radioactivefree” food, since it contains more or less radioactive potassium, but I was preoccupied with the suspicion that all mothers have: “What if my child becomes ill by having been exposed by radiation-contaminated food?” There has been actually no serious contamination of tap water reported except in evacuation zones in Fukushima since the report of radioactive iodine contamination in Tokyo’s tap water on March 23, 2011. They occasionally detected 0.1–1.0 Bq/kg of radioactive cesium in tap water in Miyagi Prefecture, which was said to be safe to drink. However, I could not stop continuing to double-purify tap water with filters when I cooked for my daughter. This is probably a typical “matter of feelings” similar to the belief of travelers who drink only bottled water in their destinations, even though they are told that local tap water is safe. But the belief sometimes saves lives of travelers. Rejecting certain foods and water after such an accident is very understandable behavior, and there is no use criticizing it. Some people make fun of mothers who make box lunches for their children that look exactly like the school lunch but use only “safe” food. They are probably overanxious, but who can say they are wrong? There is only one thing that can solve the problem: measuring the radiation. After a few months, the national and local governments started measuring radiation in agricultural products in eastern Japan and releasing the data. This was a big relief to me, as I did not want to eat or feed my daughter questionable food. Although some specific foods, such as beef, tea leaves, and mushrooms, tended to contain high amounts of radioactive cesium over the official limit (500 Bq/kg until April 1,

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2012), the radiation in most vegetables, pork, chicken, eggs, and other processed food became negligible within a few months. They also reported that wild game and mushrooms, as well as fish thriving in and around rivers, contained the highest amount of radio-cesium, which I had already heard from European friends, when I asked about Chernobyl a long time ago. These were very useful for me to decide which food I could buy and which I should not. I am still inclined to use products from western Japan when cooking for my daughter, but I started buying my favorite local food from Tohoku region again. Ensuring the safety of local food is important, but we also need to support local farmers. Authorities started measuring the radiation of a whole meal in schools and homes, to check the safety of local food comprehensively. In a research finding by CO-OP Fukushima, they reported that they measured radioactive cesium in a mixture of foods and drinks consumed over two days by one hundred families in Fukushima Prefecture (Co-op Fukushima 2012). According to the report, concentrations of radioactive cesium higher than 1 Bq/kg were detected from only ten families (max. 11.7 Bq/kg). A mother in Fukushima on the television news reporting this result smiled and said, “I am so happy to be able to feed my children local fresh food” (NHK News web, March 28, 2012). This is how mothers are now taking their one big step out of a cage of radiation fear.

Risk Communication Between Parents and Experts During the past year, Japanese citizens became very familiar with technical terms of radiology, such as Becquerel, Sievert, Gray, Iodine, Cesium, Strontium, and so on, through daily reports on the Fukushima situation and food contamination. Portable dosimeters became available in drug stores and household retailers, priced at about 10,000 yen. I bought one and checked the radiation level in my neighborhood, where I found out that the soil around a rain barrel and rainwater pipes in the garden of my parents’ house had a high radiation dose. It also became clear that my neighborhood was less contaminated than the southeastern part of the city, but more so than the northwest. The count shown on my dosimeter was 0.08–0.54 µSv/h. I was not sure whether these values meant the places were harmful to my daughter or not. Since the nuclear accident, many scientists and experts, mostly specialized in physics and radiology, kept sending out messages on television and the Internet, or by holding lectures, that people living in cities and towns in east Japan except the evacuation zone in Fukushima did not have to evacuate or to stop living their normal life (Japan Health Physics Society 2011; Japan Radiological Society 2011). This did not relieve my concern for some reason. I joined a local group of mothers who actively work for sharing information about food contamination and the current status of radiation in our hometown. They also submitted a request to the city and prefecture administrations to measure radiation doses in schools and parks, to measure radiation in local foods, and to have all the children take a medical check concerning radiation exposure. As I attended their meetings and exchanged opinions on a message board, I realized that the major

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concern of the mothers did not come from a lack of knowledge about radiation, but from distrust toward radiology experts, who kept saying “it’s safe” without providing convincing reasons. Many of these mothers are actually intelligent and have studied hard to understand the risks of radiation for children. Some have even read a large number of resources written in English and other languages, and contacted experts from Japan and abroad and asked them to give lectures for us. They trust experts who listen to what mothers say and who can explain complicated issues with simple words, who are not reluctant to provide as much information as they can. And oddly enough, mothers tend to trust experts who say “it is not safe” more than those who give the opposite opinion. As a scientific researcher myself, I tend to trust what the majority of scientists say. But as a mother of a one-year-old girl, I tend to take the most careful precautions. So I started collecting information from experts through the Internet, books, and scientific literatures. There is already a large body of studies from the Chernobyl nuclear accident in 1986, and I learned a lot from them. It was surprising to see that many parts of Europe, like Sweden and Austria, which I think are among the safest countries in the world, have been severely contaminated by the Chernobyl accident (UNEP 2007), while there seems to be no record that mothers with children evacuated to other countries from there. The food contamination in Europe also looked serious, even in countries more than one thousand kilometers away from Chernobyl (Schwaiger et al. 2004). I also learned that radio-cesium contamination in wild mushrooms is nothing new in Japan, since the contamination already occurred by fallouts from atmospheric nuclear tests in the 1950s and 1960s and the Chernobyl nuclear accident in 1986 (Sugiyama et al. 2000). Although these pieces of information did not guarantee the safety of us here, they let me get ready to face the situation and risks, which I should accept as a reality. Above all, I felt ashamed to know that we had been so ignorant about how European people suffered from the radiation fear from Chernobyl for decades. And the effect was not at all restricted to Europe or Russia, but also present here since long ago. It is not easy for experts to explain the risk of radiation to citizens, especially to parents of small children. However, making insecure or irresponsible comments, such as “the risk of eating a small amount of contaminated food is small” or “the radiation increase by the Fukushima accident is negligible considering the natural radiation dose in some other countries,” just increased our anxiety. The most important thing would be to keep telling the truth about what is happening, and to be honest about what they would do as experts. An expert in nuclear physics, Dr. Masashi Kaneta in Tohoku University, Sendai, has given wonderful lectures for citizens to explain the situation in my hometown by showing their own measured data based on scientific grounds. He provided two brilliant messages, which I appreciated more than any other information. First, he does not mind letting his four-year-old child play outside, because his calculations indicate that the risk of internal exposure would increase by only 1 percent even if she ate a gram of soil every day (Kaneta 2011). Second, he encouraged everyone to keep on learning, because it is the most important

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thing to prevent discrimination against people whose homeland was unwillingly contaminated. One year after the horrible nuclear accident, I am now able to live life in peace. I achieved this not by repelling everything that could be contaminated, but by accepting the reality and by keeping my family life with correct knowledge, just as hundreds of thousands of mothers did in Europe after the Chernobyl accident.

Tokyo Parents’ Reactions to the Quake and the Nuclear Accident Yukiko Dejima The massive quake was also felt in Tokyo on March 11, and the shake was large enough to kill seven people, injure 116, and damage 3,603 houses (Tokyo Metropolitan Government Bureau of General Affairs 2011). Parents in this area had less damage than in Tohoku, but they also had troubles. Some lost their way to pick up their children in preschools on the day of the quake, and some could not find any milk or diapers for their babies in stores for several days. Many were at a loss of what to do to protect their children from radioactivity, unsure of whether it was safe or not to live in Tokyo. Mothers and fathers tried to get information they wanted as much as possible, and helped each other. And new media, such as the Internet, played a crucial role in supporting them.

Parents Who Could Not Come Home Around 3,520,000 people in Tokyo could not get home on March 11, 2011, because of the suspension of public transportation services (Cabinet Office 2011b). In the metropolitan area, quite a large number of people commute long distances, and their homes are too far away to get to on foot. The earthquake occurred in the mid-afternoon, when most people were at their workplaces. In the case of working parents, they had difficulties reaching their children. They tried to call preschools and confirm their children’s safety, but phones were not working well. As shown in a Yomiuri article on March 16, 2011, some walked for several hours to pick up their children, and some had no other choice but to stay overnight at their office. Many preschool teachers stayed overnight at their schools, taking care of children whose parents could not come. For some parents and preschool teachers, the Social Networking Service (SNS) helped a lot. Although the Cabinet Office reported that more people succeeded in accessing their families on cell phones than on land-line phones soon after the earthquake, many mothers and fathers say that Twitter and Mixi were much more accessible, as a Nikkei Shimbun article on March 11, 2012, confirms (Cabinet Office 2011b; Mixi 2011; Nikkei Shimbun 2012). Through cell phones, parents accessed the Internet and tweeted where they were and how long it seemed to get to the preschools. Teachers and parents who had already reached preschools tweeted where children found shelter and who was able to pick up whose children. According to a Yomiuri article on October 31, 2011, many local municipal governments in the metropolitan area

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started introducing email distribution and Twitter services especially for allowing parents emergency communication with preschools in the occurrence of the disaster. The Metropolitan Police Department also announced that they were planning to use SNS and email services to provide information for those who would face difficulties going home, on restoration of public transportation, and on facilities to stay overnight (Metropolitan Police Department 2012). SNS and email delivery systems are becoming helpful tools in natural disasters, and it is hoped that they will be used more widely and wisely to help many people, not only parents of small children.

Shortage of Necessities and Inconvenient Life After the earthquake, I came back from Sendai to Tokyo with my husband and children on March 15. Before I reached home, I got a text message from a neighborhood friend in Tokyo, a mother of a baby. It said, “The hardest thing you’ll face after coming back to Tokyo will be to buy daily necessities.” She told me that people made lines in front of neighborhood supermarkets, and kindly offered to give me diapers or food in case I was not able to get any. People feared that daily necessities, such as food, drinks, and gasoline, were going to be unavailable because of the disaster. I looked around nearby stores and found that some shelves were empty. According to an Asahi Shimbun Digital article on March 15, 2011, foods, plastic bottles of water, and canned foods disappeared from supermarket shelves, while flashlights and helmets were sold out at household goods’ stores. The Minister of State for Consumer Affairs and Food Safety urged the public to stay calm and said that stable supplies of daily commodities were secured and that people should buy only what they really needed so that living necessities could be sent to devastated areas (Asahi Shimbun Digital 2011). However, people’s panic buying reheated on March 23, 2011, when the Tokyo Metropolitan Government warned residents of some areas of Tokyo to avoid giving tap water to infants because it was found to contain radioactive iodine over the safety limit for infants (Reuters, March 24, 2011). Within a few hours after the announcement, bottles of water were sold out at many stores. I learned the news when I got a text message at 16:36 sent from the city of Inagi in Tokyo where I live. The city provides email delivery service on disaster prevention information, and I had subscribed to its mailing list. Reading the message, I looked for bottled water in local stores, but in vain. Finally I found small bottles of water in a roadside vending machine, but there must be a lot of parents who had no choice but to give tap water to their children, fearing it might damage their loved ones’ health. The Tokyo Metropolitan Government cancelled the restriction after the tap water contained lower levels of radioactive iodine on the next day, but buying bottled water remained difficult for a few weeks. The problem was that parents of babies and small children could not get water bottles because many other people had bought them up. Some supermarkets saved bottles for families with infants, and local authorities distributed bottled water to babies’ families. Inagi City started distributing water bottles on March 24 to babies younger than one year old. The manager of the nurs-

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ery where my children go told me that the city also distributed water to preschools. Preschool teachers also did their best to buy enough food and milk in order to serve lunch. The manager said that she stood in a queue in front of a local supermarket to get milk for children in the preschool. Other factors made parents of infants insecure. To avoid a total blackout of the power system, Tokyo Electric Power Company introduced planned blackouts on March 14. Many people were frustrated because they were not sure what time the three-hour blackouts would take place until the day came, and it often turned out the blackouts were cancelled after people had prepared for them. Because of this uncertainty, trains and stores were not able to keep regular operations or normal business hours. Like all other people, mothers and fathers of infants suffered from the unexpected and irregular “planned” blackouts, and some left Tokyo for western Japan or foreign countries to avoid these inconveniences as well as to escape from possible radioactive contamination. But the number of evacuees was not large. It was true that many mothers with children rushed to airports or stations to go west or leave Japan at the end of March, but they did so because schoolchildren in Japan had spring vacation at this time, and most of them came back home when the vacation came to an end at the beginning of April. And there were no planned blackouts after April.

In Search of Information on Radioactive Contamination After the new school year started in April, most parents and children in Tokyo went back to their normal lives. For some parents, however, concerns about radioactive contamination remained serious. Many parents cared less because the television news and newspaper articles led them to believe the government when it said there was no need to worry too much. For example, the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare (MHLW) produced a pamphlet titled: “We Respond to the Worries of Pregnant Women and Mothers with Small Children about Radioactivity.” It kept saying not to worry too much, that your children were safely able to eat any food sold in stores, because the authorities prevented foods that contained radioactive materials beyond the provisional regulation values from going on the market. About 3 million copies of this eight-page booklet were distributed to pregnant mothers and parents of infants through medical institutions, preschools, and kindergartens in April 2011. Some parents found the message of the pamphlet doubtful, because they had learned much about radioactivity and its risks through the Internet, having read articles and blogs written by experts who gave warnings about the effects of radiation on small children. In parents’ meetings at my children’s preschool in May 2011, some mothers and fathers told about their concerns on radioactivity, saying the MHLW pamphlet told them nothing, and asked teachers to be careful when selecting foods for children and letting them play outside while they did not know how contaminated the soil was. These parents and many others who shared their view could not believe what the authorities said, and they criticized the content of the pamphlet because it gave little information and no substantial reason for its declaration of safety. Criticisms against this pamphlet appeared on the Internet, written

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by various people, from science experts to mothers of babies. An NPO called the SAY Peace Project issued an alternative guidebook called “Protecting Children from Radiation Exposure” and provided it free on its website (SAY Peace Project 2011a). Its English translation also appeared online as an article in The Asia-Pacific Journal: Japan Focus (SAY Peace Project 2011b). It explains what radioactivity is and how it may affect the human body, especially infants and pregnant women, and it presents some methods to prevent children from being exposed to additional radioactivity. This guide was recommended on many webpages and blogs. Some criticisms against this guide also appeared, but at least the guidebook by SAY Peace provided much more information than the MHLW pamphlet. And getting information itself was critical to help parents who were in severe anxiety. The gap between information provided by the government and information on the Internet caused many parents’ anxiety and distrust. Sometimes the gap caused disagreement among parents, because each believed information from different sources, and pieces of information often contradicted one another. There were some parents who found themselves isolated among the group of parents in a preschool or in a community, without friends who shared their high concern and anxiety about radioactivity. According to a survey by a website for mothers, 41 percent of mothers said they wanted to talk about radioactivity and its effects on children with people around them but found it difficult (Babycome 2011). These parents found like-minded people at special parents’ meetings where they could share their concern. Meetings of this kind were created across the country. One of the most famous meetings was the National Network of Parents to Protect Children from Radiation, which was formed in July 2011. According to its homepage, more than 250 groups joined this network. A Nikkei Shimbun article on September 15, 2011, says that these kinds of mothers’ meetings invite experts and host lecture meetings and study sessions on radioactivity and countermeasures against it, exchanging information through SNS (Nikkei Shimbun 2011b). Some groups detect radiation levels using Geiger counters and decontaminate parks. Pressed by these groups, municipal governments started measuring radiation levels in local parks, preschools, kindergartens, and schools, and disclosed the results in their official newsletters and on their homepages. The municipal governments also measure school-provided lunches. Learning such results and knowing how much they should be careful, parents’ emotional insecurity has eased. This was only attained by unprecedented cooperation and political action among parents in modern Japan, helped a lot by new media, such as the Internet.

Conclusion The tsunami earthquake in 2011 was experienced in various ways by parents with small children. Some were badly in need of heat and clean water soon after the quake and tsunami, while others needed a Geiger counter the most. To protect their children, mothers and fathers looked for ways to get what each of them needed, and those who tried to help these parents and children also sought means to reach them. For these efforts, the role played by the Internet was remarkable. True, we had television

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(after the electric power came back on) and radio, but we were too passive in front of these media, waiting persistently until the news we needed was read. That is why many parents hardly put their Internet-enabled cell phones down for a second, and kept checking blogs by experts or SNS, as one mother confessed in her letter to the editor of Asahi Shimbun (Asahi Shimbun 2011b). They searched the Internet with key words that had crucial meaning for their children’s lives at each point, posted messages with their questions on SNS sites, and got replies from people they did not know. When they had any information that might help other parents, they tweeted it to be read by those who were searching for the information. We need to notice that there are gaps and disparities among parents caused by the difference in amounts and contents of information they got, and that some parents experience isolation. A way to solve this problem can be found in promoting communication with or without new media. More communication between the parents and supporters, between the parents and the government, as well as among parents in need, will lead to the resolution of parents’ deprivation, anxiety, insecurity, and isolation. This means a lot to small children under the care of these parents. Parents after a disaster are in need of information and cheering messages, and want their voices heard. New media surely has a role in supporting them.

References Asahi Shimbun. 2011a. “Mi mo Kokoro mo Atatamete: Maizuru-Gakuen no Ko ra Ho-on Kaba 100-mai Sakusei” [Warm Both Body and Heart: Students in Maizuru-Gakuen Made 100 Hot Water Bottle Covers]. April 8. Tango regional edition, 23. ———. 2011b. “Hoshano Kowasa Watashi mo Keitai ni Muchu” [I, Too, Am Engrossed in My Cell Phone, Being Scared of Radioactivity]. September 16. Letter to the Editor, 16. Asahi Shimbun Digital. 2011. “Mizu ya Gasorin . . . Shutoken de Kaidame, Hisaichi ni Todokanu Osore” [Panic Buying of Water and Gasoline in the Tokyo Metropolitan Area . . . Might Not Be Delivered to the Disaster Areas]. March 15. http://www.asahi.com/ special/10005/TKY201103140523.html. Accessed April 10, 2012. Babycome. 2011. “Genpatsu Jiko, Naniga Shinpai desuka?” [What Is Your Concern about the Nuclear Accidents?]. Research Vol. 147. http://www.babycome.ne.jp/online/research/ detail.php?vol=147. Accessed April 12, 2012. Cabinet Office. 2011a. “Heisei 23-nen-ban Kodomo Kosodate Hakusho” [Year 2011 White Paper on Children and Child-Raising]. http://www8.cao.go.jp/shoushi/shoushika/ whitepaper/measures/w-2015/27pdfhonpen/pdf/column10.pdf. Accessed December 28, 2015. ———. 2011b. “Kitaku Konnansha no Jittai Chosa Kekka ni tsuite” [On the Results of the Survey of Countermeasures for People Who Have Difficulty in Going Home After a Major Earthquake]. http:www.bousai.go.jp/jishin/syuto/kitaku/2/pdf/4.pdf. Accessed December 30, 2015. Co-op Fukushima. 2012. “2011-nen-do Kagezen Hoshiki ni yoru Hoshasei Busshitsu Sokutei Chosa Kekka” [Survey Results of the Measurement of Radioactive Substance by Using Kagezen Method 2011]. http:www.fukushima.coop/kagezen/2011.html. Accessed December 30, 2015. Ishii, M. 2011. “Japan Medical Association Team’s (JMAT) First Call to Action in the Great Eastern Japan Earthquake.” Japan Medical Association Journal 54 (3): 145–154.

Internet-Age Parents and Children after the 2011 Earthquake and Tsunami   285   Ishii, M., T. Nagata, and K. Aoki. 2011. “Japan Medical Association’s Actions in the Great Eastern Japan Earthquake.” World Medical and Health Policy 3 (4): article 2. Japan Health Physics Society. 2011. “Senmonka ga Kotaeru Kurashi no Hoshasen Q & A” [Experts’ Answers to Questions on Radioactivity in Everyday Life]. http://radi-info.com/ key/hinan/. Accessed June 1, 2012. Japan Medical Association. 2011. “JMA Disaster Headquarters Status Reports: Thyradin.” http://www.med.or.jp/english/activities/20110323.html. Accessed December 30, 2015. Japan Radiological Society. 2011. “Houshasen Hibaku nado ni kansuru Q & A” [Questions and Answers on Radiological Exposure]. Ver. 3. http://www.radiology.jp/modules/news/ article.php?storyid=911. Accessed June 1, 2012. Kadowaki, T. 2011. “Our Sympathies to the People Affected by the Great East Japan Earthquake, and the Activities of the Japan Diabetes Society.” Diabetology International 2:45–46. Kaneta, M. 2011. “Sendai deno Dojo kara no Naibu Hibaku no Risuku wo Watashi wa Do Mite iruka” [What I Say About the Risk of Internal Exposure from Soil in Sendai]. http:// blog.livedoor.jp/masashi_kaneta/archives/51277867.html. Accessed April 14, 2012. Kobe Shimbun. 2007. “Petto Botoru Yutanpo de Nukumori wo: Noto Hanto Jishin” [Deliver the Warmth with Plastic Bottles as Hot Water Bottles: After the Noto Peninsula Earthquake]. April 2. Memory Ever-Daishinsai. 2011. “Sendai-shi wo Ossotta Otsunami no Shogen” [Witness to Massive Tsunami That Struck Sendai City]. http://memory.ever.jp/tsunami/shogen_sendai .html. Accessed June 1, 2012. Metropolitan Police Department. 2012. “Keishi-cho Daishinsai Taisaku Suishin Puran” [Great Earthquake Disaster Countermeasures Promotion Plan by the Metropolitan Police Department]. http://www.keishicho.metro.tokyo.jp/seian/s_plan/image/s_plan. pdf. Accessed April 9, 2012. Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology. 2011. “Yushikisha Kaigi ni oite Dasareta Ronten. Higashi-nihon Daishinsai wo Uketa Bosai Kyoiku, Bosai Kanri tou ni kansuru Yushikisha Kaigi” [Issues Raised at the Third Meeting of the Blue Ribbon Panel on Education for Disaster Prevention and Disaster Prevention Management After the Great East Japan Earthquake]. August 10. http://www.mext.go.jp/b_menu/shingi/ chousa/sports/012/attach/1311181.htm. Accessed January 1, 2016. Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare. 2011. “Higashinihon Daishinsai karano Fukko ni tsuite” [On the Recovery from the Great East Japan Earthquake]. http://www.mhlw. go.jp/stf/shingi/2r9852000001uo3f-att/2r9852000001uo7y.pdf. Accessed March 27, 2012. Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications. 2012. “Jumin Kihon Daicho Jinko Ido Hokoku” [Reports on Population Migration Based on the Basic Resident Register]. http:// www.stat.go.jp/info/shinsai/pdf/1youyaku.pdf. Accessed March 27, 2011. Mixi. 2011. “About Social Network ‘mixi.’” http://mixi.co.jp/en/about/. Accessed April 9, 2012. National Network of Parents to Protect Children from Radiation. 2011. “List of Registered Groups.” http://kodomozenkoku.com/. Accessed April 10, 2012. NHK News Web. 2012. “Shokuji no naka no ‘Houshasei Busshitsu’ 95% de Kenshutsu nashi, Seikyo-ren Chosa” [Association of Coops Found Meals of 95% Families Are Free from Radioactive Materials]. March 27. Nihon Kango Kyokai [Japanese Nursing Association]. 2010. “Yutanpo no Anzen Shiyo” [Safe Use of Hot Water Bottles]. http://www.nurse.or.jp/nursing/practice/anzen/ pdf/2010/20100107.pdf. Accessed May 21, 2012. Nikkei Shimbun. 2011a. “Mishugakuji, Toi ‘Nichijo’: Asobi no Ba, Egao Torimodosu” [Preschool Children, Far from “Normal Life”: Putting Back the Smile at Play Spaces]. May 9, page 30.

286   Yukiko Dejima and Wakako Ikeda-Ohtsubo ———. 2011b. “Houshano no Joho, Haha ‘Manabitai,’ Senmonka no Koenkai Seikyo” [Mothers Want to “Learn” About Radioactivity, Lecture by Experts Thriving]. September 15, evening edition, page 17. ———. 2012. “‘Tsunagaru Chikara’ Netto ga Honryo: Tsuitta ya Feisubukku” [Internet Taps Its Potential for “Power to Link”: Twitter and Facebook]. March 11, page 8. Reuters. Reporting by Fredrick Dahl. 2011. “Japan Mulls Fukushima Food Sale Ban: IAEA.” March 19. http://www.reuters.com/article/2011/03/19/us-japan-nuclear-food-idUSTRE72I1X120110319. Accessed May 21, 2012. ———. Reporting by Tan Ee Lyn. 2011. “Experts Pore Over Contaminants After Japan Accident.” March 22. http://www.reuters.com/article/2011/03/22/us-experts-japan-idUSTRE72L4LV20110322. Accessed May 21, 2012. ———. Reporting by Shinichi Saoshiro and Kazunori Takada. 2011. “Radiation Scare Leaves Tokyo Short of Bottled Water.” March 24. http://www.reuters.com/article/2011/03/24/ustokyo-radiation-water-idUSTRE72N5GH20110324. Accessed April 10, 2012. Sandoz. 2011. “Sandoz Ensures Continued Supply of Levothyroxine Sodium in Japan.” http:// www.sandoz.com/media_center/press_releases_news/Sandoz_around_the_world/sandoz _ensures_continued_supply_of_levothyroxine_sodium_in_japan.shtml. Accessed January 1, 2016. Save the Children Japan. 2011. “Children Want to Participate in Post-Tsunami Recovery and Want Space to Play: Save the Children Surveys 11,000 Children After Japan Disaster.” http:// www.savechildren.or.jp/jpnem/eng/pdf/news/20120301_PressRelease_HearOurVoice. pdf. Accessed April 14, 2012. SAY Peace Project. 2011a. “Houshano Hibaku kara Kodomo wo Mamoru Tameni” [Protecting Children Against Radiation]. Ver. 2. https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B_6umsmKA5 diMmM1Mjc2ZDgtODM4ZS00NTI2LThhMGUtNTY1ODFjOTgzYzcy/edit?hl=en_US. Accessed April 12, 2012. ———. 2011b. “Protecting Children Against Radiation: Japanese Citizens Take Radiation Protection into Their Own Hands.” The Asia-Pacific Journal: Japan Focus. http://japanfocus. org/-Say_Peace-Project/3549. Accessed April 10, 2012. Schwaiger, M., K. Mueck, T. Benesch, J. Feichtinger, E. Hrnecek, and E. Lovranich. 2004. “Investigation of Food Contamination Since the Chernobyl Fallout in Austria.” Applied Radiation and Isotopes 61:357–360. Shanti Volunteer Association. 2011. “Kesennuma, Genchi Saiyo Sutaffu no Fukko ni Kakeru Omoi: SVA Kesennuma Jimusho, Kasahara Kazuki Sutaffu Intabyu” [Kesennuma, Enthusiasm for Recovery by a Locally Hired Staff: An Interview with Kasahara Kazuki, an SVA Kesennuma Office Staff]. October 4. http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_ id=289696834375336. Accessed May 21, 2012. Sugiyama, H., H. Terada, H. Shibata, Y. Morita, and F. Kato. 2000. “Radiocesium Concentration in Wild Mushrooms and Characteristics of Cesium Accumulation by the Edible Mushroom Pleurotus ostreatus.” Journal of Health Science 46:370–375. Tamura, Hirokazu. 2011. “Radiation Dose in Aobaku, Sendai.” https://spreadsheets.google. com/spreadsheet/pub?hl=ja&key=0AqCNir5ySiBLdGc5eW8wcDUyRG9scHBvUTVaV0 V4Znc&hl=ja&gid=2. Accessed April 14, 2012. T4 Committee. 2011. “Rebochirokishinnatoriumu Antei Kyokyu Taisaku Iinkai (T4 Iinkai) no Setsuritsu to Katsudo ni tsuite” [On the Formation and Activities of the Committee of Measures to Ensure a Stable Supply of Levothyroxine Sodium (T4 Committee)]. http:// jspe.umin.jp/saigai/files/T4committee110322%28T4%29.pdf. Accessed January 1, 2016. Tokyo Metropolitan Government Bureau of General Affairs. 2011. “Tohoku Chihou Taiheiyo

Internet-Age Parents and Children after the 2011 Earthquake and Tsunami   287   Oki Jishin no Hassei ni Tomonau Tokyo Tonai no Higai Jokyo” [Damage Situations of the Tokyo Metropolitan Area Caused by the Tohoku District Pacific Ocean Offshore Earthquake]. http://www.bousai.metro.tokyo.jp/japanese/press/201108-03jyouhou.pdf. Accessed April 9, 2012. UNEP. 2007. “Radiation from Chernobyl.” http://www.grida.no/graphicslib/detail/radiationfrom-chernobyl_7925. Accessed December 30, 2015. Yamazaki, J., and K. Yoshihara. 2011. “Medical Activities in Areas Struck by the Great East Japan Earthquake.” Japan Medical Association Journal 54 (5): 335–337. Yomiuri Online. 2011. “Shinsai Kanren Shi 451-nin wo Nintei, Haien ya Teitaion-sho nado” [451 Earthquake Disaster-Related Deaths Recognized, Caused by Pneumonia, Hypothermia, and So On]. November 18. Yomiuri Shimbun. 2011a. “Shinsai-ji Kodomo to Shoku Wo Mamoru: Hoiku no Mukae to Rerakuho wo Saikakunin” [How to Protect Children and Feed Them After Earthquake Disasters: Reaffirmation of Ways to Pick Up Children at Nurseries and of Communication Methods]. March 16, page 18. ———. 2011b. “Shinsai-ji Meru Hoikuen ga Sonae Hogosha ni Issei Renraku Donyu Susumu” [Nursery Schools Prepare for Earthquake Disasters and Introduce Email Delivery Service for Parents]. October 31, evening edition, 13.

14

Crisis Mapping Project and CounterMapping by Neo-Geographers Toshikazu Seto and Yuichiro Nishimura The Sanriku tsunami on March 11, 2011, brought catastrophic damage to a wide area of Japan. Traffic and communication interruption occurred over a huge region, including the Tokyo metropolitan area. Most public transportation stopped and people could not return home immediately. Although people wanted to share safety information with their families, voice calls could not be connected because of the congestion of phone traffic. Short Message Services (SMS) by mobile phone carriers were also delayed because the huge traffic level exceeded the capacity of the message servers. On the other hand, Social Networking Services (SNS), such as Twitter and Facebook, did not face such problems because they had adequate capacity and they had already augmented their servers after experiencing several huge disasters and political disorders (Tsuda 2011). Though there were people who could not use mobile phones, many people using SNS and mobile Internet could share information concerning damage to an area or the welfare of disaster victims. Peary et al. (2012) reported on the role of social media in the 2011 Sanriku tsunami from a broad viewpoint. We would like to investigate the relationship between the mapping practices and social networking services because web mapping was one of the prominent types of social media used, and these practices are interesting from a geographic aspect. Recently, the practice and application of mapping has been rapidly changed by the diffusion of Information and Communication Technology (ICT) and Internet technology. First, the use of digital maps has spread not only to professional fields, but also to daily social living because of the transformation of the stand-alone map to the Geoweb (Scharl and Tochtermann 2007), such as Google Maps or Microsoft Bing Maps, which started in the mid-2000s. Second, this situation has led not only to the development of new tools or Internet services under Web 2.0 for delivering geospatial information to users, but also to the emergence of new creators of geospatial information. They are mostly nonexperts who are not GIS specialists, scientists, or government officers. They create geospatial information by mapping and producing data on Internet services. The phenomenon that such geospatial information stored on various websites is viewed, searched, and used by nonexperts according to their individual interests and daily living situation is called “neo-geography” (Turner 2006). The emergence of neo-geographers encourages Geoweb developers to employ a user-centric design of GIS (Warf and Sui 2010). 288  

Crisis Mapping Project and Counter-Mapping by Neo-Geographers   289  

On the other hand, open source software for geospatial information called FOSS4G (Free and Open Source Software for Geospatial) has developed rapidly to compete with proprietary commercial software recently (Haklay et al. 2008; Goodchild 2009). One of the main uses of neo-geography is information sharing in a disaster situation. For example, in the disaster of Hurricane Katrina in 2005, the action by the U.S. federal government and local government was delayed because they had topdown information flows. On the other hand, the sufferers and the residents near the affected areas shared detailed disaster information on Google Earth and Google Maps, and satellite images of damage just after the disaster were released by Google (Kawasaki and Meguro 2010; Zook et al. 2010). In January 2010, after the Haiti earthquakes, disaster information was sought by people from outside the affected area. The affected areas had a shortage of base maps for disaster aid, and mobile communication devices in Haiti only covered a small area, limiting the sharing of information between local people. The activities that took place included supplying remote sensing data with interoperability (Taguchi et al. 2011), and crisis mapping by OSM (OpenStreetMap), a Wikipedia-like mapping project on the web, which is becoming a platform for the practical use of such geospatial information sharing during rescue activities (United Nations Foundation 2011). The sharing and application of geospatial information on the web is one of the key topics of human geography and GIS studies. Goodchild (2007) called crowdsourcing (online outsourcing) of the geographic information made, shared, and applied by a group of individuals Volunteered Geographic Information (VGI) (Howe 2008; Goodchild and Glennon 2010). Such developments have new models of disaster management called “Crisis Mapping.” Roche et al. (2011) discuss the contents and spatial scales of disaster information in each phase of a disaster cycle (mitigation/ preparedness/response/recovery). Especially in the response phase of the disaster, they insist that rapid sharing of disaster information by “many to many,” utilizing cloud sourcing, as well as by “one to many,” is needed if evaluation of the contents and qualities of information have to be done. On the other hand, some researchers insist that geospatial information produced by neo-geographers tends to lack correctness, and examination of the data accuracy and interpretation of errors are needed (Perkins and Dodge 2008; Warf and Sui 2010). Sometimes a new type of mapping activity leads to empowering the local community or indigenous people. An example of this is counter-mapping. This action contrasts against the dominant mapping agency, such as planning by the government or marketing by large enterprises. It challenges state maps or commercial maps, and advocates bottom-up participatory mapping. Counter-mapping is treated as an important part of participatory GIS in the context of critical rethinking of GIS (critical GIS) from the 1990s. In recent years, the voluntary creation and sharing of geospatial information related to disasters has increased globally. In the Sanriku tsunami on March 11, 2011, many neo-geographers carried out supporting activity regarding disaster information using GIS and Geoweb. The study of GIS and society such as Public Participation GIS

290  Toshikazu Seto and Yuichiro Nishimura

(PPGIS), neo-geography, and VGI has become popular in the geographic press of the English-speaking world (Wakabayashi and Nishimura 2010; Seto 2010). However, the study of neo-geographers’ practices and their effects on disasters has been limited (Budhathoki et al. 2008). The study of detailed practices by neo-geographers during the 2011 Sanriku tsunami has been an important case study on huge earthquake disasters and on the sharing of geospatial information. This study discusses crisis mapping and the sharing of disaster information on March 11, 2011. First, we would like to give an outline of crisis mapping using Geoweb and of the sharing of geospatial information in the 2011 Sanriku tsunami. Second, we discuss neo-geographical practices and characteristics of the geospatial information based on detailed statistical data. For this analysis, GIS data with time series is needed, and that data is hard to acquire. We can aggregate data from the OSM of the Japanese community (OSMJP) because the detailed data is open and can be accessed by an Application Program Interface (API). Third, we would like to discuss the counter-mapping practices producing a radiation map in Fukushima. The accident of the No. 1 Fukushima nuclear reactor brought the need for radiation information. The local people wanted to make original radiation maps using Geiger counters, the Global Positioning System (GPS), and FOSS4G programs to compare to the radiation maps produced by the government. Finally, we would like to discuss the disaster geospatial information produced by neo-geographers.

Crisis Mapping and the Sharing of Disaster Information on March 11, 2011 An Introduction to Crisis Mapping Crisis mapping refers to the activity by officials and volunteers involved in a disaster response to collect, share, and analyze geospatial and map-based information in disaster-affected locations (United Nations Foundation 2011). Since around 2008, the Harvard Humanitarian Initiative (HHI) has been developing the open source Ushahidi platform and its corresponding community to facilitate information sharing for crisis management, and the Humanitarian OSM Team (HOT) began organizing the “Crisis Mapper Network” as a worldwide activity in November 2009. Although the Haiti earthquake occurred in January 2010, the first HOT activity was actually in New Zealand following the earthquake of February 2011. At the time of the Haiti earthquake, as the local maps were underdeveloped, the creation of map data from aerial photographs, mainly by OSM, was actively promoted, and this detailed map data was made available to anyone who requested it. The creation of this data was characterized by the development of the Humanitarian Data Model (HDM) for disaster response assistance, which ensures a survey sheet that conforms to the HDM is supplied alongside the data. In addition, a HOT package, including a package for fieldwork and some simple output from guidebooks and maps, was completed in June 2010. This package has been utilized in the support of activities in the recovery period. Following the Haiti earthquake, a mechanism of using Twit-

Crisis Mapping Project and Counter-Mapping by Neo-Geographers   291  

ter and mobile phones from affected areas to share information on the relief efforts and confirm the safety of people using OSM was established. A good example is the web mapping services that utilize Ushahidi. These services were developed for the presidential election in Kenya in 2008, to allow the sharing of information on a range of subjects, such as the riots that occurred in many places. Actually, the location and detailed information on damage can be visualized through the web map. The information was published on Ushahidi because it is freely available through web browsers, and was also utilized by other applications. It should be noted that, in addition to the activities of the “Crisis Mapper Network,” web mapping by many institutions and organizations has allowed the mutual sharing of information—for example, Google’s “Crisis Response” after the Haiti earthquake and ESRI’s social media map in New Zealand. In this way, by taking advantage of the FOSS4G and through web maps, information sharing in disaster response was conducted by various entities. We now give an overview of trends in the sharing of geospatial information in the Japan earthquake, describing activities with respect to the crowdsourcing of crisis mapping.

Sharing of Geospatial Information in the 2011 Sanriku Tsunami Following the earthquake, many institutions immediately delivered geospatial information over the web, with a focus on aerial photographs and satellite images. The service delivery and sharing of geospatial information from immediately after the earthquake is shown in table 14.1. At this stage, queries regarding missing persons, shelter, and other services that were available took a very high priority, so the disaster information portal and Google’s “Crisis Response” was established on March 11, 2011. A similar trend is evident for the Fukushima No. 1 nuclear power plant accidentrelated information. For example, a site plan showing the name of the municipal area power outage, which was originally intended only as a PDF document, was shared as a web map using the Google Maps API. Within a few days, other post-disaster aerial photographs were made available as image data from the Geospatial Survey Institute (GSI) and the National Research Institute for Earth Science and Disaster Prevention (NIED), an independent administrative institution with a variety of satellite imagery by Web Mapping Service (WMS). In the early stages, the aerial photograph data provided by GSI was published without being ortho-rectified, but later geometric correction work was carried out by volunteers with GIS skills. In addition, aerial photographic surveys of the disaster area and tsunami damage were also performed by the company, and following analysis, the resulting data was primarily published in PDF or image format. In addition, several academic societies, including the Association of Japanese Geographers, displayed the results of GIS analysis via web services and other stand-alone delivery portals. The open source community, as represented by the Open Source Geospatial Foundation Japan (OSGeo Japan), the organization for promoting FOSS4G and OSM, provided information as open data. In this way, geospatial information was made available to more people by incor-

292  Toshikazu Seto and Yuichiro Nishimura

porating web services, advancing the sharing of such information. The mapping of the disaster (mainly the tsunami area) may have been made based on a variety of aerial and satellite photos shared on the web. However, it is difficult to study in detail the temporal evolution of the treatment and sharing of geospatial information, as the data provided by web maps and Geoweb do not record changes in individual attribute values. Further, when attempting to verify the accuracy and uncertainty of mapping by crowdsourcing, it is also important to consider the source (authority) of information. As a means to considering these issues, this section focuses on open data that is generated by crowdsourcing. Open data, like OSM, can also be obtained separately for the data itself via API, as well as an analysis of the data structure. As an example, we discuss the OSM Crisis Mapping Project in the next section.

Crisis Mapping Project by Neo-Geographers OSM Activity in Japan OSM was started in July 2004 by Steve Coast. Basically, a collaborative editing system like that used for Wikipedia was adopted, and all activity in the system is composed of open source software. In 2010 there were 200,000 registered users, and this grew to 625,000 users by June 2012. In addition, under the provisions of Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike (CC BY-SA) and Open Database License (ODbL) licenses, it was possible for anyone to take advantage of maps and databases provided on the web. In Japan, open source activists commenced OSM activity in 2007, and in March 2008 the OSMJP was set up. This was established to enable the exchange of OSM information in Japan, via Internet Relay Chat (IRC) and mailing lists, and even dissemination activities through fieldwork (so-called mapping parties) and some exhibitions. In December 2010, for the purpose of supporting OSM activities in Japan, the OSM Foundation Japan (OSMFJ) was established as a general incorporated association, becoming the focal point of contact for the OSM community in Japan and beyond. The flow for creating and sharing data in OSM is shown in figure 14.1. The input and editing of geospatial information is mainly conducted on the web, whereas on-site information gathering is performed using a GPS logger. In the United States and the United Kingdom since 2008, public institutions moved toward providing geospatial information for OSM. In Japan, the National Land Numerical Information data (provided by the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport) has been suitable for OSM licensing since February 2010. In addition, Microsoft Corporation developed “Bing Maps” in December 2010, providing aerial photography and high-definition images in the field survey and featuring non-GIS data attributes that could be also be entered, providing information for nonvisual characteristics. In Japan, the input of geospatial information using Bing Maps, especially in the three major metropolitan areas, was enabled by the provision of these high-definition aerial photographs, because buildings could be easily differentiated, making this geospatial database

General information

Google Inc.

18 OpenStreetMap Crisis Mapping Project

17 GEO Grid Disaster Response Task Force

13 Aerial Photo of the Disaster Area

Google API

Yahoo! Open Local Platform

http://www.finds.jp/independent/tohoku/index .html

e-community platform OpenLayers gdal etc GIS data

Aerial photos Aerial photos

Aerial photos

OpenStreetMap

Geospatial Information of the Disaster Area OpenStreetMap Japan Community Maps and database

URL

http://disaster.geogrid.org/

http://stlab.iis.u-tokyo .ac.jp/eq_data/index.html

http://bosai-drip.jp/ap/wms.htm#menu2

GIS data

http://saigai.gsi.go.jp/h23taiheiyo-hr/ index.html

http://www.miraikioku.com/

http://archive.shinsai.yahoo.co.jp/

Aerial photos

Aerial Photos of the Disaster Area

Photos and movies

Photos

http://shinsai.mapping.jp/

General Information

Google Eearth API

http://cegrp.cga.harvard.edu/japan/

OpenLayers Geoserver, etc.

General information

http://www.jdarchive.org/?la=ja

WorldMap

General Information

http://shinsai.mapping.jp/

Google Earth API

http://kml-layers.appspot.com/kyuen-map/

General Information

Google Maps API

http://www.sinsai.info/

http://311archives.jp/

e-community platform

Ushahidi

http://www.drs.dpri.kyoto-u.ac.jp/emt/

http://www.google.com/intl/ja/crisisresponse/ japanquake2011.html http://175.41.145.246/tohoku_taiheiyooki/ x. index.html

URL

ArcGIS.com

ArcGIS Server

Google API

Mapping Engine or data format

National Institute of Advanced OpenLayers Aerial photos & satellite images Industrial Science and Technology Mapserver, etc.

Geospatial Information Authority of Japan National Research Institute for 14 (not in service) Earth Science and Disaster Prevention National Agriculture and Food 15 The Contents of Tohoku and Kanto Research Organization Earth Environmental Engineering Reaction project for the 2011 earthquake off Research Group, Institute of 16 the pacific coast of Tohoku Industrial Science, University of Tokyo

12 Memories for the Future

11 East Japan Earthquake Picture Project

10 The East Japan Earthquake Archive

9 JAPAN Sendai Earthquake Data Portal

8 Digital Archive of Japan's 2011 Disasters

7 The East Japan Earthquake Archive

Volunteers Hidenori Watanabe Lab at Tokyo Metropolitan University and Students Reischauer Institute of Japanese Studies Center for Geographic Analysis Harvard University Hidenori Watanabe Lab. at Tokyo Metropolitan University and Students Yahoo! Japan

6 Disaster Area Relief Map Portal

General information

 OpenStreetMap Foundation Japan General information

5 sinsai.info

4 311archives

3 Emergency Mapping Team

Esri Japan Corporation

2 Japan Incident Map

General information

Portal

Themes

Disaster Prevention Research General information Institute Kyoto University Tohoku University/University of Tokyo/National Research Institute General information for Earth Science and Disaster Prevention

Google

Organization

1 Google Crisis Response

Title

Table 14.1. Delivery and Sharing of Geospatial Information

Aerial photos

Rolling Blackouts Area Map of TEPCO 30 Service Area Mapion Company

Maps

Hidenori Watanabe Lab at Tokyo Metropolitan University and Maps Students Tokyo Map Research Company Maps

Maps

Hokkaido-Chizu Company

29 Map Gallery

http://www.hcc.co.jp/information/report/ report-earthqtouhoku.html

Image or PDF format data

Image or PDF format data

Mapserver

GIS data

Google Maps API

GIS data

Image or PDF format data Rolling Blackouts Map of TEPCO

Aerial photos & satellite images

27 Rolling Blackouts Area Map of TEPCO

28 Rolling Blackouts MAP

http://ktgis.net/tohoku_data/index.html

GIS data

http://www.t-map.co.jp/ http://www.mapion.co.jp/d/topics/eq2011/ teiden.html　http://blog.mapion.co.jp/ release/201 1/03/110313_15434.html

http://teiden.sou-sou.net/index2.html

http://www.hcc.co.jp/information/report/ report-elecplan.html

http://www.kk-gfrp.jp/csr/ disaster/201103_touhoku-taiheiyo/ index.html http://www.spaceimaging.co.jp/EastJapanEarth quake/tabid/576/Default.aspx

http://www.pasco.co.jp/disaster_info/110311/

http://ec2-175-41-208-71.ap-northeast 1.compute.amazonaws.com/ http://www.ajiko.co.jp/bousai/touhoku2011/ touhoku.htm

http://danso.env.nagoya .ac.jp/20110311/map/index.html

URL

http://disaster.geogrid.org/

http://stlab.iis.u-tokyo .ac.jp/eq_data/index.html

e-community platform

OpenStreetMap

OpenLayers Mapserver, etc. Image or PDF format Aerial photos & satellite images data Image or PDF format Aerial photos & satellite images data

Aerial photos & satellite images

Japan Space Imaging Corporation Satellite images

Kousai Kogyou Group

PASCO Corporation

Asia Air Survey

Aero Asahi Corporation

26 (not in service)

25

Great East Japan Earthquake Archives Disaster on March 11, 2011

2011 The Great East Japan Earthquake Emergency Website The 2011 Earthquake and Tsunami off 23 the Pacific coast of Tohoku March 2011 Information on the Great East 24 Japan Earthquake 2011

Hokkaido-Chizu Company

21 (not in service)

Maps

Tsunami Damage Mapping Team, Association of Japanese Maps Geographers TANI Kenji (Associate Professor in Human Geography, Saitama Maps and database University)

Maps of the Area hit by the Tsunami of 11 19 March 2011, Northeast Japan Maps and GIS Data of Contour, Altitude, and Population related to the Great East 20 Japan Earthquake

Geospatial Information of the Disaster Area OpenStreetMap Japan Community Maps and database

22

GIS data

National Institute of Advanced OpenLayers Aerial photos & satellite images Industrial Science and Technology Mapserver, etc.

Research Group, Institute of Industrial Science, University of Tokyo

18 OpenStreetMap Crisis Mapping Project

17 GEO Grid Disaster Response Task Force

16 the pacific coast of Tohoku

Crisis Mapping Project and Counter-Mapping by Neo-Geographers   295  

Figure 14.1. Flow for Creating and Sharing Data.

appear rich in information when compared to other web map programs. Yahoo! Japan also provided ALPSMAP data to OSM on March 6, 2011.

Transition of Spatial-Temporal OSM Information in Crisis Mapping Crisis mapping was conducted following the Sanriku tsunami that occurred in March 2011. The questions of what should be done immediately after the earthquake and how to provide information about the disaster to the response community via OSM were discussed among members of OSMFJ, and the start of the Crisis Mapping Project was then announced via the OSMJP mailing list. A page to discuss methods and guidelines for mapping the crisis was created at 19:31 (GMT+9), March 11, 2011 (see figure 14.2). In addition, overseas OSM users immediately began to discuss how to proceed with the crisis mapping and organize the documentation of activities to participants. By 02:56 on April 22, 2011, the OSM Wiki page had been updated 255 times. For OSM users in Japan, a Japanese page (separate from the English page) was created at 11:08 on March 13, 2011; this had been updated 185 times by 9:48 on May 1, 2011. The features generated on OSM contain a vast amount of data, even if restricted to Japan since the earthquake. Thus, we use the Java application “Osmosis v. 0.39” (http://wiki.openstreetmap.org/wiki/Osmosis) to segment the OSM data and access

Figure 14.2. Methods and Guidelines for Mapping Crisis in Japan.

Crisis Mapping Project and Counter-Mapping by Neo-Geographers   297  

worldwide dump data of “planet.osm” (http://planet.openstreetmap.org/) to obtain data for the whole world in XML format in order to examine some spatial-temporal trends. For the target area, a feature related to the disaster situation has been entered on OSM for the five prefectures of Aomori, Iwate, Miyagi, Fukushima, and Ibaraki. We analyze the period up to 23:59 on April 11, 2011, at which point disaster response activities on OSM largely ceased. To input features in the OSM, nodes (points) were grouped into lines to denote a “Way,” and these Ways were then used to show the spatial extent of buildings and features (areas). These data were constructed from the tags that describe various attributes on the OSM server, with time stamps updated each time “Mapnik” (the open source rendering library) accessed the database map for drawing applications. In addition, data sets can be downloaded and used off-line, such as with a Personal Digital Assistant (PDA), to create site maps of an area of interest, to which the user can also add their own special tags. This characteristic of OSM is the basic philosophy of open source and open data. The quantitative transition of geospatial information entered as OSM data before and after the Japan earthquake is shown in table 14.2. First, the node data points shown on OSM prior to the occurrence of the earthquake represent those that had already been entered under normal OSM activities. About 60 percent of the approximately forty-two thousand points were entered after the earthquake occurred, representing the input of bulk GIS data regarding schools, hospitals, and welfare facilities from National Land Numerical Information to OSM. Based on consideration of the HDM, OSMJP determined that basic information about shelters was required, and so GIS data was entered centrally for a few days after March 13, 2011, to reflect this situation. Approximately six hundred users applied to use the shelter data on the municipality websites and received permission from the municipality to enter data into the OSM until the end of April 2011. Approximately 90 percent of the road data was entered after the occurrence of the earthquake. The OSM map of the Tohoku region had little information to begin with, so the large portion of the information was entered after the earthquake. In the disaster area, land use and road data helped identify areas flooded by the tsunami from satellite images and aerial photographs. The area and the Way data was input from the coastal area near Sendai Airport at around 18:00. Although there is some overlap of each type of user data, between three and five times as many people participated in this stage as compared to before the earthquake. After the earthquake, data was entered in the form of aerial photographs and satellite images, which were used to visualize the area and focus on the tsunami disaster. In particular, for approximately one week from March 13, 2011, this trend was more pronounced. However, as much of the data input was from satellite images and aerial photographs, and the bulk of the road data was Yahoo! Japan’s ALPSMAP data, there was a limit as to the input accuracy of the information. The geospatial information underpinning ALPSMAP data was created up to the time of the earthquake, allowing us to grasp more accurately the extent of the damage by compar-

699,742

Total 77.0%

216,002

166,247

49,755

Way

-

-

-

Max.

Total

Avg.

88

83

2.0km

98095.9km

159.0km

0.01m

-

-

-

Max.

Total

Avg.

Users

-

Min.

195

274

0.37km

62435.9km

110.0km

0.08m

After the earthquake (3/11/2011 - 4/11/2011)

Users

-

Min.

Before the earthquake (9/23/2007 - 3/11/2011)

4.7%

32,813

After

Percentage of Crisis Mapping（％）

666,929

Node

Before

Category

Users

145.1km2

249

0.01km2

508.4km2

22.5km2

2.0m2

46

0.09km2

4799.9km

2

Avg.

Total

Max.

Min.

1,853

Node 20,426

Way

-

-

-

-

-

50

0.59km

12020.4km

661.9km

0.07m

Currently (9/1/2012 - 11/18/2012)

Counts

Category

8.6m2

45.2%

96,106

43,482

52,624

Area

Table 14.2. Geospatial Information Before and After the Earthquake

36

0.58km2

7561.9km2

4068.5km2

2.4m2

12,971

Area

Crisis Mapping Project and Counter-Mapping by Neo-Geographers   299  

ing it to the state of the road before the earthquake occurred. Thus, to focus on the tsunami in the Tohoku region, satellite imagery and aerial photographs were taken immediately after the earthquake, and this spatial information was entered on OSM. Next, we consider the spatial-temporal transition of the input of data in the vicinity of Sendai. The most significant input of data on the range of flooding, road areas, and coastal inundation was made in the two weeks following the earthquake. In addition, many building shapes in the center of Sendai were input from late March 2011 to early April 2011. On the other hand, for affected areas of southern coastal Iwate Prefecture, input work was difficult because of extensive damage caused by the tsunami in the northern part of Miyagi Prefecture. Therefore, the only public facility within a large range was entered as flooded on OSM, but inevitably the approximate range read from satellite imagery and aerial photography meant that the building was selected as a refuge.

Sinsai.info: Integrated Social Media with Geospatial Information Sinsai.info is a disaster information delivery service providing crisis mapping, along with the mapping of activities focused on the disaster situation of OSM, and is based on the Ushahidi platform. Following the earthquake, there was a large communication problem due to power failure, as the vast social networking services and Twitter require Internet access in order to function. The communication of location information via Twitter was possible since June 2010, as latitude and longitude information from the GPS functions of mobile phones and smartphones is used to send messages of 140 characters, and so the ability to automatically obtain any information from Twitter is important to sinsai.info. After the Japan earthquake, sinsai.info was initially made available to the public on personal sites by a spontaneously formed governing body with a focus on volunteer technicians and information. In order to achieve stable operation and system expansion capability, corporate support for web hosting enabled immediate improvements to be made to the underdevelopment of the function. It should be noted that a lot of work on sinsai.info, such as development and bug fixes for the Japanese environment, was conducted by more than one hundred volunteer engineers, and this allowed a great deal of cooperation with geospatial information services. Using the sinsai.info hashtag, it was also possible to post articles directly from the website to the database automatically because of the location information contained in the tweets. Disaster information received by this means was labeled in eighteen different categories, such as safety confirmation or available services, and volunteer moderators arranged information in a sinsai.info database as a mechanism to determine whether or not the information had been posted by management. It is also possible to map and display information on a certain disaster on the sinsai. info website, as well as to display the KML (Keyhole Markup Language used for map and 3D display) overlay files published on other sites and news articles in Rich Site Summary (RSS) format. The first report published on sinsai.info, at 19:06 on March 11, concerned infor-

300  Toshikazu Seto and Yuichiro Nishimura

mation about those left in the playground in the city of Higashi Matsushima, Miyagi Prefecture. After that article was published, a wide-range of services became available, from personal safety confirmations to the news. Of the 23,837 posts submitted up to April 17, there were 9,138 in the “safety confirmation” category, making this the most common article type. A spatial-temporal mapping of these articles from sinsai.info in the Tohoku region was prepared. In this category, 2,316 posts (25.3 percent) were submitted within one week of the earthquake. The geographical distribution of the events covered by the posts is spread over a wide range of coastal areas around the city of Sendai. In addition, inland regions, such as Yamagata and Fukushima, see a sharp decline in the number of posts for about two weeks from the occurrence of the earthquake, and the number of posts only returned to predisaster levels three weeks after the earthquake. This trend can be seen very often across the region, from the city of Rikuzentakata to Higashi Matsushima, where damage was especially serious. For these areas, the sharing of flood disaster information on OSM immediately after the earthquake was closer to the truth than other web maps. In this earthquake, a long period of disaster information sharing was required to grasp the whole picture of the damage, as the communication environment was not necessarily good. It should be noted that the operational environment, which was based on information from Ushahidi, was supported by volunteers on a global scale. The characteristics of these activities were due to voluntary organizations and individuals, as there were inevitably delays due to the lack of disclosure of information by local governments and countries in the immediate aftermath of this earthquake. It is necessary to consider the situation whereby people had to actively obtain this information.

Challenges of Counter-Mapping The term “counter-mapping” was first introduced by Peluso (1995). This work also described the use of modern mapping technologies, such as GIS, for the indigenous community empowerment, and counter-mapping was designed to increase the power of people living in a mapped area to control the representations of themselves and to increase their control of resources (Peluso 1995; Johnson et al. 2006). Though the term counter-mapping is mainly used for the practices of rural communities of developing countries, we would like to apply it to the critical mapping practices in Fukushima, Japan. The accident at the Fukushima No. 1 nuclear power plant brought the need for radiation information for the local people. The damage to the Fukushima nuclear power plant diffused radioactive materials over a wide area of the eastern part of Japan. The spatial diffusion in Fukushima Prefecture was broad, and the radiation levels showed geographical differences in each place. On the local scale, the radiation levels vary between each local community. They are different in smaller places because radiation materials transfer from one place to another by water (including natural rainfall, snow, and decontamination by the water) or the wind.

Crisis Mapping Project and Counter-Mapping by Neo-Geographers   301  

To indicate the distribution of mapping, radiation mapping activities by the national government and local governments have started. However, the local people are dissatisfied with the maps produced by the government. One of the reasons is that the local people have doubts about the radiation information given by the national and local governments. Actually, some of the radiation forecast maps produced by national institutes were not made available to the local people or to the local governments. Furthermore, the pace of releasing maps was very slow and the local people wanted to know the radiation levels more quickly in the areas in which they lived. Also, the map released by the national government was too small in scale; the local people could not see the radiation level at the scale of each local community. The governmental information did not apply to the daily living space of local people. Several local governments also investigated the radiation levels in their administrative areas. However, most of the data opened to the public was also small scale, and the radiation maps were published as PDF files. So, the people could not use these maps for the mashup on the web. The local governments’ lack of geo-literacy and openness became famous among neo-geographers. The residents in the radioactive material diffusion area started counter-mapping practices. One OSM user living in Fukushima City carried a GPS device, a digital voice recorder, and a handy Geiger counter and read the radiation level at every road he traveled on, then recorded the results using the voice recorder. Using the GPS, he transcribed the radiation data from the voice recorder and joined them to the GPS recorded point. Next, he used a FOSS4G program like Quantum GIS (QGIS) to process and visualize the radiation data that he had obtained. He asked and got help from some OSGeoJP members because, though he was an active and expert OSM user, he had little experience using a desktop GIS program, such as QGIS. The production of the radiation map showed that local counter-mapping can be an important activity of neo-geographers. The neo-geographer aimed to visualize the radiation levels of his living spaces (around each home, neighborhood road, school, and workplace). He made detailed scale maps rapidly. Sometimes 1/500, 1/200, 1/100 scaled maps are needed for making clear the radiation distribution in the local community. One the other hand, neo-geographers face some difficulty producing and sharing their maps. They need to have new knowledge for making radiation maps. Taking the example of the OSM user in Fukushima City, he had enough knowledge to make the maps on OSM. However, he had to learn to use the Geiger counter. Most other local people investigating local radiation levels might have to learn to use a GPS receiver or other location technology. They also need to learn GIS mapping and visualization methods. A detailed large-scale base map was not available to use in the GIS. Neo-geographers also have come to recognize the reliability and quality issue of the radiation information. The measurement results of radiation have to be treated as inconsistent because there are various measurement methods (which depend on the equipment and measured environment) and most data collected cannot be easily standardized. They then face the problem of sharing, comparing, and estimating

302  Toshikazu Seto and Yuichiro Nishimura

the radiation information. In the case of the OSM user in Fukushima, he could not upload his radiation maps produced in QGIS to the Internet. His data was mainly shown to his family or to people in the neighborhood.

Future of Mapping The counter-mapping activities started not only in Fukushima City, but also in the Tokyo metropolitan region. These resulting maps showed the distribution of radioactive material spread over a large area of Japan. Also, the local mapping activities pointed out that the distribution of radiation shown is different between the scale of administration areas and the scale of everyday living space. The desire of the residents to map the radiation level will continue, and an analysis through mapping the types of disease that may be caused by radioactive materials will also continue. However, the sharing of radiation maps has a problem of reliability. Softbank, which is one of the Japanese mobile phone carriers, released a new mobile phone with a built-in radiation sensor in July 2012. It indicates that the desire to know the radiation levels in one’s daily living space is still strong. However, each user can check only the data on his or her mobile phone. The phone can locate the recorded point on a map on the web, but it has no function to share the data with even the same type of mobile phone at present. This leads to the conclusion that these mapping practices are not likely to be connected to politics or direct political action. The counter-mapping of radiation made clear that the map made by the government is not absolute, but limited. However, the radiation maps by neo-geographers have insufficient power to provide persuasive data because of the limitations of the measurement methods. A new type of sharing method, as well as standardizing the methods, measurement, and tools for easily recording the radiation level data, has been developed by the SAFECAST (http:// blog.safecast.org/) project. Neo-geographers have already developed the mapping radiation device in open source and have promoted open radiation data by empowered citizens.

References Budhathoki, N. R., B. Bruce, and Z. Nedovic-Budic. 2008. “Reconceptualizing the Role of the User of Spatial Data Infrastructure.” GeoJournal 72:149–160. Goodchild, M. F. 2007. “Citizens as Sensors: The World of Volunteered Geography.” GeoJournal 69:211–221. ———. 2009. “NeoGeography and the Nature of Geographic Expertise.” Journal of Location Based Services 3:82–96. Goodchild, M. F., and J. A. Glennon. 2010. “Crowdsourcing Geographic Information for Disaster Response: A Research Frontier.” International Journal of Digital Earth 3:231–241. Haklay, M., A. Singleton, and C. Parker. 2008. “Web Mapping 2.0: The Neogeography of the GeoWeb.” Geography Compass 2:2011–2039. Howe J. 2008. Crowdsourcing: Why the Power of the Crowd Is Driving the Future of Business. New York: Brockman. Johnson, J. T., R. P. Louis, and A. H. Pramono. 2006. “Facing the Future: Encouraging Critical Cartographic Literacies in Indigenous Communities.” ACME 4:80–98.

Crisis Mapping Project and Counter-Mapping by Neo-Geographers   303   Kawasaki, A., and K. Meguro. 2010. “New Movement on the Geospatial Utilization for Disaster Response in the Haiti Earthquake.” Seisan Kenkyu 62 (4): 409–412. Peary, B., R. Shaw, and Y. Takeuchi. 2012. “Role of Social Media in Disaster Response and Reduction.” In East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami, edited by R. Shaw and Y. Takeuchi, 109–142. Singapore: Research Publishing. Peluso, N. L. 1995. “Whose Woods Are These? Counter-Mapping Forest Territories in Kalimantan, Indonesia.” Antipode 27:383–406. Perkins, C., and M. Dodge. 2008. “The Potential of User-Generated Cartography: A Case Study of the OpenStreetMap Project and Mapchester Mapping Party.” North West Geography 8:19–32. Roche, S., E. Propeck-Zimmermann, and B. Mericskay. 2011. “GeoWeb and Crisis Management: Issues and Perspectives of Volunteered Geographic Information.” GeoJournal 78 (1): 21–40. Scharl, A., and K. Tochtermann, eds. 2007. The Geospatial Web. London: Springer-Verlag. Seto, T. 2010. “New Trend of Public Participation GIS for Information Society.” Theory and Applications of GIS 18 (2): 31–40. Taguchi, H., Y. Usuda, and T. Nagasaka. 2011. “The Suggestion of Method for Supply of Remote Sensing Data to Aid on Large-Scale Natural Disaster.” Oyo-sokuryo-ronbunshu 22:53–63. Tsuda, D. 2011 “Can Social Media Regenerate Tohoku?—Reconstructing Autonomous Local Communities.” Shiso-chizu Beta 2:52–72. Turner, A. J. 2006. Introduction to Neogeography. Sebastopol, Calif.: O’Reilly Media. United Nations Foundation. 2011. “Disaster Relief 2.0: The Future of Information Sharing in Humanitarian Emergencies.” http://www.unfoundation.org/assets/pdf/disaster-relief20-report.pdf. Wakabayashi, Y., and Y. Nishimura. 2010. “Notes on the Issues of ‘GIS and Society’: Critical GIS as an Alternative Geographic Information Science.” Geographical Review of Japan 83:60–79. Warf, B., and D. Sui. 2010. “From GIS to Neogeography: Ontological Implications and Theories of Truth.” Annals of GIS 16 (4): 197–209. Zook, M., M. Graham, T. Shelton, and S. Gorman. 2010. “Volunteered Geographic Information and Crowdsourcing Disaster Relief: A Case Study of the Haitian Earthquake.” World Medical and Health Policy 2 (2): 7–33.

Part 3

Impact of the Earthquake and Tsunami on Business and Industry

15

The Impact of the 2011 Tsunami and Earthquake on Distribution Systems in the Tohoku Region Jun Tsuchiya The objective of this chapter is to understand the impact of the 2011 Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake on the distribution system in the Tohoku region. The region spreads about six hundred kilometers from north to south and about two hundred kilometers from east to west. Sendai, located in the center of the Tohoku region, has a population of about 1 million and is the regional economic center. Most of Tohoku is rural areas with low population density. In addition, there are widespread remote areas, such as the Sanriku Coast region, in which depopulation is remarkable. On March 11, 2011, the Sanriku earthquake and tsunami occurred at the coast of Miyagi, Iwate, and Fukushima Prefectures. The earthquake and the following tsunami damaged the physical and human resources of the region deeply. Especially the Sanriku Coastal Region faced huge tsunami damage to several industries. Retail stores were damaged by the tsunami. Photo 15.1 shows a convenience store damaged by the tsunami in Sendai. The 2011 Sanriku tsunami was the largest challenge that Japan’s distribution system has experienced since the postwar period. When the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake and the Niigata Chuetsu earthquake occurred, supermarkets and convenience stores quickly provided several commodities for victims. Since the East Japan earthquake spread over a broad area, the distribution systems became dysfunctional and stayed that way for over a month.

The Distribution Systems in the Tohoku Region There are several retailers in the Tohoku region, such as supermarkets, convenience stores, and several specialty retailers (home electronics stores, drug stores, and so on). Supermarkets are main distribution systems, supplying many daily commodities to consumers. In the Tohoku region, there are not only national chain stores, like Aeon Group and the Seven and I Holdings Company, but also regional chain stores, such as York Benimaru and Yamazawa. Such chains operate branch stores mainly in suburban areas in the Tohoku region and supply many commodities, fresh vegetables, fish and meal, and also groceries and daily necessities. Convenience stores are very important stores for single households in Japan. 307  

308  Jun Tsuchiya

Photo 15.1. A convenience store damaged by the tsunami in Sendai, photographed on March 27, 2011. (Photograph by Jun Tsuchiya)

Convenience stores sell many kinds of goods and commodities in a small shopping space, about one hundred to three hundred square meters, such as groceries, fast food, magazines and books, and daily life commodities. Convenience stores also supply many kinds of services. For example, consumers can pay their electricity, gas, and telephone bills at convenience stores. In the Tohoku region, there are three big convenience chains: 7-Eleven, Lawson, and FamilyMart. In addition, there are several types of chain retail stores in Tohoku. Mass home electronics retailers (Yamada Denki) and mass clothing retailers (UNIQLO) operate in the region. In this way, chain stores occupy an important position in the distribution system in the Tohoku region. Generally speaking, chain stores operate their own delivery systems to maintain their stocks of commodities. Thanks to their systems, chain stores are able to reduce inventory and delivery costs and other expenses. In recent years, the competition between retailers has heated up gradually, so chain stores have been introducing cost-reduction policies in order to remain competitive. In addition, big chain stores have introduced information technologies, such as Point-of-Sale (POS) systems. The diversification of consumption has been developing for a few decades in Japan, since the economic depression of the 1990s. Using POS systems allows chain stores to catch people’s consumption trends and manage merchandise controls properly. On the other hand, small retailers face severe competition from big chain stores.

The Impact of the 2011 Tsunami and Earthquake on Distribution Systems   309  

Recently, the number of small retailers has been decreasing in the Tohoku region. Most shopping streets in each city center are under stagnant situations, because the competition with suburban retailers is very severe. In addition, the retailers located in remote areas, such as mountain villages, are gradually closing because of the lack of successors. From the 1990s the reconstruction of Japan’s distribution systems has occurred. This reconstruction has resulted in regional gaps in the distribution functions. Generally speaking, the urban areas are developing several types of retail stores, while in the rural areas, which have low population density, active retail stores are decreasing. In particular, remote areas, with depopulation and an aging population, are not able to maintain their regional distribution systems.

Regional Diversities of Recovering Processes in Distribution Systems This study indicates that the recovery processes of distribution systems in the Tohoku region differ. Table 15.1 shows the regional differences. First, in the evacuation areas related to the nuclear radiation in Fukushima Prefecture the distribution systems had not recovered at all until July 2011. Second, the coastal areas of Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima Prefectures had some temporal distribution systems managed not only by retailers and wholesalers, but also by volunteer sectors. There are many temporary housing units for victims that are served by public sectors. Photo 15.2 shows a supermarket damaged by the tsunami in Rikuzentakata, Iwate Prefecture. Third, in the inland areas of Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima Prefectures, distribution systems recovered fully within two months. These areas contain the main roads of the distribution systems in the Tohoku region. In these inland areas, Tohoku highways connect with Tokyo metropolitan areas to supply food and commodities to major wholesalers and retailers. Within two months of the disaster, these areas played important roles in serving the coastal areas. Fourth, other prefectures (such as Aomori, Akita, and Yamagata, which had only Table 15.1. Recovering Processes of the Distribution Systems in Tohoku Region Area Iwate Prefecture Miyagi Prefecture

Fukushima Prefecture Other Prefectures (Aomori, Akita, and Yamagata Prefectures)

Coast areas Inland areas Coast areas Inland areas Coast areas Evacuation areas from the nuclear pollutions Inland areas

After the disaster One week Stopped

One month Stopped

Two months Temporal

Stopped Stopped Stopped Stopped

Recovering Stopped Recovering Stopped

Normal Temporal Normal Temporal

Stopped

Stopped

Stopped

Stopped

Recovering

Normal

Recovering

Normal

Normal

310  Jun Tsuchiya

Photo 15.2. A Rikuzentakata supermarket damaged by the tsunami, August 28, 2011. (Photograph by Jun Tsuchiya)

a little damage from the disaster) served Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima Prefectures for one month after the earthquake.

The Process of Recovery After the East Japan Earthquake Immediately after the earthquake, the distribution system in the Tohoku region stopped due to damage to physical facilities and information systems. In large, suburban supermarkets and shopping centers, many ceilings fell and walls collapsed from the earthquake. A shopping center located in suburban Sendai was the scene of some deaths from objects falling in the store. The lack of supplies from large stores was a very serious problem in Tohoku region. Many people suffered from shortages of food and daily life commodities just one or two weeks after the earthquake. Convenience stores were damaged as well as the distribution systems. The largest convenience store chain in the area, 7-Eleven, had five hundred stores and forty distribution centers in the Tohoku and Kanto regions damaged. Big distribution centers for major supermarkets in Sendai port’s industrial park had not recovered by late 2011 (see photo 15.3). The information systems of several chain stores, such as POS systems, were shut down due to lack of electricity. Distribution systems were recovering after the earthquake day by day. The day after the earthquake, some supermarkets and convenience stores started selling again. Some supermarkets sold food and commodities outside of stores, in the

The Impact of the 2011 Tsunami and Earthquake on Distribution Systems   311  

Photo 15.3. In Sendai’s port area, major distribution centers were shut down due to the lack of electricity after the tsunami, March 27, 2011. (Photograph by Jun Tsuchiya)

parking spaces, because there were too many danger zones inside the stores. Such emergency selling was limited to only existing stocks in the stores, because supply systems for food and commodities were not functioning. One week after the earthquake, there were many long lines of people waiting to buy essentials at several stores (see photo 15.4).

Photo 15.4. Long lines of people waiting to buy essential goods in front of a store in Sendai, March 27, 2011. (Photograph by Jun Tsuchiya)

312  Jun Tsuchiya Table 15.2. The Number of Closed Convenience Stores in Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima Prefectures Total number The number of closed stores of stores

3/13/2012

3/18/2012

4/18/2012

7-Eleven Japan

778

About 500

About 340

53

Lawson

421

329

113

31

FamilyMart

418

About 250

78

39

Circle K Sunkus

221

About 170

37

9

Source: Yomiuri Newspaper, April 19, 2011.

Some stores were able to recover over the first month after the earthquake. Some of the major supermarkets were managing special delivery systems temporarily—for example, long-distance deliveries from active delivery centers located in surrounding areas, such as Yamagata Prefecture and Tochigi Prefecture. In addition, some supermarkets set up new temporary delivery centers in the damaged area to overcome the lack of supplies. On the other hand, some food, for example tofu (been curd), milk, and yogurt, were in short supply for the first month after the earthquake, because of limited electrical supply due to the loss of the nuclear power stations. In addition, panic buying by people outside of the damaged area resulted in food shortages. Table 15.2 shows the recovery of convenience stores from the Yomiuri article. On March 13, about two-thirds of the convenience stores of four major convenience chains were closed in Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima Prefectures. Recovery of convenience stores was slower than other retailers, because supply chains of convenience stores are very small with frequent deliveries. One month after the earthquake, about 90 percent of the stores were active. After two months, convenience stores were increasing their sales rapidly because they were very accessible for disaster victims.

Photo 15.5. After the disaster, several temporary stores managed by Lawson opened in Rikuzentakata, August 8, 2011. (Photograph by Jun Tsuchiya)

The Impact of the 2011 Tsunami and Earthquake on Distribution Systems   313   Table 15.3. The Recovery Process of One Supermarket Distribution Center Date 3/11/2011 3/12-20/2011 3/21-23/2011

Contents The earthquake occurred, the tsunami came, and all staff stayed that night.

Stop all activities. The start of recovery. For example, removing and throwing away some wet commodities and ordering new commodities for the center. 3/24/2011 Recovering some food supplies. For example, mineral water, drinks, and instant noodles. 4/11/2011 Securing a temporary source of electrical power, the beginning of stocking food and commodities. 4/15/2011 Recovering the electrical ordering system. 5/10/2011 Recovering full electrical power, total recovery completed. Source: Center interview, June 12, 2011.

In addition, large convenience store companies opened many temporary stores in the areas damaged by the tsunami in the Sanriku Coastal Region (see photo 15.5). Many people who lost their houses to the tsunami moved to temporary shelters constructed by the public sector. To support such people, convenience stores located their temporary stores near the temporary housing areas. In this way, convenience stores played an important role in supporting victims. The recovery process of one supermarket delivery center that was heavily damaged by the tsunami is shown in table 15.3. Water and mud came into the center with the tsunami and all activities in the center suddenly stopped. The manager of the center checked the safety of the staff, and the employees stayed that night in the center because they could not go back to their homes. The next day the employees all went back to their homes and the center remained dormant for ten days. On March 21, the center started recovery activities. For example, the staff removed the mud from the tsunami, threw away wet commodities, and ordered new commodities for the center. On March 24, the center started delivering the food and commodities that remained, doing so manually because they were still without electrical power. On April 11, the center got a temporary source of electrical power to run several pieces of equipment and the information system, and at that point it began stocking food and commodities from manufacturers. On May 11, the center resumed all activities because it had regained full electrical power. It took two months for the center to recover its functions after the tsunami. Today’s delivery centers depend on their power supplies. First, all activities in the centers—for example, delivery truck scheduling, inventory management, and stock checking—are managed by the information systems. Second, the power sources for all activities are supplied by electricity. For example, sorter machines and forklifts are moved by electrical power. Generally speaking, today’s delivery centers are very weak in case of accidental stoppage of electric power.

314  Jun Tsuchiya

The Problems of Distribution Systems After the Earthquake The distribution systems in the Tohoku region have been cleared since the earthquake. Facing this disaster, victims in the Tohoku region recognized the distribution systems as important infrastructures necessary for people. So, the distribution systems need to be strengthened to meet the challenge of disasters. First, the distribution systems were vulnerable to loss of electrical power and other energy sources. Second, the chain stores’ cost reduction policy of maintaining low inventory levels became the weak point of management after the earthquake. The policy of inventory reduction resulted in a lack of commodities in each store and delivery center in the emergency. This cost reduction policy has been very popular in distribution industries since the 1990s, when the competition between chain stores began heating up. Third, the sudden collapse of the balance between supply and demand occurred after the earthquake. The self-defensive minds of people triggered panic buying of food and several commodities. The food manufacturers and retailers could not respond to the rapid growth in demand for one month after the earthquake. In addition, the shortage of electrical power made Tohoku face a difficult situation. Accordingly some manufacturers, wholesalers, and retailers started reconsidering their distribution systems and policies. Table 15.4 shows the policies that manufacturers, wholesalers, and retailers are considering for their distribution systems. The first is dispersing their delivery centers to reduce the disaster risks. For example, FamilyMart, one of the biggest convenience chains, made its integrated delivery center divide into two or three smaller centers. In this way, FamilyMart could have backup centers if any center is damaged by disaster. Second is the change that wholesalers and retailers maintain reserve stocks for emergencies in every center and store. In recent years, wholesalers and retailers made every center’s stock shorter to reduce inventory costs. However, those policies resulted in weak systems for emergency deliveries. Wholesalers and retailers need to have safety stock dispersed around the Tohoku region. Table 15.4. The Reconstruction of Distribution Systems After the Earthquake Plan Every delivery center has reserve stock for emergency needs at each of its stores Ryoshoku (wholesaler) Changing existing plans for the integration of delivery systems FamilyMart (retailer) Making the integrated delivery center divide into two or three smaller centers Medipal HD (wholesaler) Setting up new delivery centers in Iwate Prefecture in one year Nisshin oirio Setting up large-scale storehouse managed by manual systems Santory HD Seven automatic storehouses will be redesigned to correspond to plans for a disaster Kirin HD Using railway delivery instead of trucks Source: Nikkei (Japan economic newspaper), June 2, 2011 Company Ion (retailer)

The Impact of the 2011 Tsunami and Earthquake on Distribution Systems   315  

Third is the introduction of manual delivery systems. After the earthquake, many delivery centers could not be managed because they had lost electrical power. In this way, automatic centers can be difficult to restore to normal operation in the immediate aftermath of a disaster. To cope with a possible loss of electrical power, the distribution systems need to introduce dual systems—not only automatic systems—that will allow them to manually operate each delivery center.

The Distribution System as a Lifeline To use the distribution systems as lifelines in several disasters, what needs to change? What must convenience stores and supermarkets do? Modern distribution systems are very weak if they lose electric power, because their systems are operated by information systems. However, if multiple distribution systems exist, it is possible some can supply goods in severe situations. The backup channels should be maintained at the time of disasters. National-scale distribution systems have a very important role in responding to emergency demands. For example, Aeon Group, one of the biggest retail companies in Japan, was able to supply large quantities of foods and commodities to the Tohoku region via its nationwide and global network of commodities chains. Aeon Group was able to purchase several commodities directly from the manufacturer quickly. Seven and I Holdings Company, the second largest retail group in Japan, aggressively supported York Benimaru, which belongs to the retail group. For example, Seven

Photo 15.6. Local farmers’ markets, called Michino-eki, met emergency demands for food because they can operate without power. The one shown here is Jobon-no-Sato, in Ishinomaki. (Photograph by Jun Tsuchiya)

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and I Holdings sent their staff to the Tohoku region to do repair work at the stores and delivery centers damaged by the disaster. The horizontal network of small chain stores and consumer cooperatives in the coastal region damaged by the tsunami were very effective in recovering their network of supply chains. For example, CGC, which is a mechanism group for cooperative buying of commodities, supported their member retailers physically. CGC supplied food and commodities aggressively to retailers located in the Sanriku Coast region. The consumer cooperatives shipped several commodities and fuel to the Sanriku Coast region to support the people who had lost their houses and communities. In addition, the consumer cooperatives sent many delivery trucks to support the people living in temporary houses. In addition, local distribution systems are flexible actors in supporting the people. For example, Michino-eki (economic and social stations located in rural areas) support rural people in several ways. Most of all, Michino-eki stations manage farmers’ markets, where growers can sell local vegetables and food. Those local organizations were very flexible for dealing with emergency demands because the stations can stock local food without fuel (see photo 15.6). In addition, local peddlers sold food and commodities to people living in remote areas. In the Sanriku Coast region, small businesses were very important for satisfying local small needs and sustaining local communities. In this way, small retailers are very important for supporting people’s lives in remote areas. Thus, this study points to the coexistence of various distribution systems to respond to disasters: national chain supermarkets, convenience stores, super-regional supermarkets, consumer cooperatives, small retailers, and farm stores. In time of peace, distribution systems compete with each other. However, in disasters, distribution systems need to cooperate with one another to support the victims.

16

The Impact of the Earthquake, Tsunami, and Nuclear Radiation on the Manufacturing Industry in the Tohoku Region Masateru Hino The 2011 earthquake, tsunami, and radiation stopped the operation of many Japanese automobile assembly factories in Tohoku for over a month. Affected companies included Toyota, Honda, and Nissan. The shortage of parts supplies had a worldwide impact. Each car consists of twenty thousand to thirty thousand parts (Miyagawa 1977; Takeuchi 1996). The earthquake damaged both parts production factories and infrastructure such as roads and electricity in Tohoku. This occurrence made people realize that Tohoku was an important base for auto parts manufacturing. Through this incident Japanese mass media began to introduce Tohoku as a center of manufacturing in Japan without enough verification. Until the 1970s Tohoku was a rural region, and the most backward region in industrialization in Japan (Hino 2004). Therefore, the evaluation of Tohoku as a center of manufacturing industry was a surprise in a sense, especially for people having the traditional image of Tohoku as a region of agricultural production. This paper first examines the appropriateness of the new image in which Tohoku is referred to as a center of manufacturing industry in Japan. In this part, the industrialization of Tohoku will be briefly reviewed. Second, the characteristics of agglomeration of automobile production–related industries in Tohoku will be examined. In addition, the damage of these industries by the earthquake will be introduced.

Current State of Industrialization in Tohoku The spatial distribution of manufacturing in Japan is still characterized by the considerable concentration in the Tokai-do megalopolis, which extends from the Tokyo metropolitan area to the Osaka metropolitan area (see figure 16.1). The share of Tohoku in the agglomeration of the manufacturing industry was only 8 percent based on the number of employees in 2005. The share of Tohoku in population was 7.5 percent in 2005. Based on these figures, it is not possible to designate Tohoku as being significant in the manufacturing industry. 317  

318  Masateru Hino

Employees

0

200

800,000 500,000 200,000 100,000

400 km

Figure 16.1. Distribution of Employees in Manufacturing, 2005.

The share of Tohoku in the manufacturing industry of Japan in 1960 was only 4.1 percent. Since the 1960s the level of industrialization in Tohoku has increased. A lot of manufacturers of various size headquartered in the Tokyo metropolitan area began to locate their branch factories in Tohoku, especially southern Tohoku, looking for cheap land and labor (Hino 2004). As a result, the number of employees in the manufacturing industry in Tohoku has rapidly increased since the late 1960s (see figure 16.2). After the first oil shock in 1973, the number of employees in the manufacturing industry in Japan decreased, and then stagnated after the 1980s. In spite of such a national trend, the number of employees in the manufacturing industry kept increasing in Tohoku. As a result, Tohoku’s share of Japan’s manufacturing industry reached 8 percent in 1990 (see figure 16.2). However, the number of employees in the manufacturing industry decreased even in Tohoku (as well as other regions) after the burst of bubble economy in 1991. The long economic recession, the appreciation of

1,000

number of employees

share of Tohoku

10

800

8

600

6

400

4

200

2

0

1950

'60

'70

'80 Year

'90

2000

0

Tohoku's Share of Manufacturing in Japan (%)

Employees (in thousands)

The Impact of the Earthquake, Tsunami, and Nuclear Radiation   319  

Figure 16.2. Employment in Manufacturing in Tohoku, 1950–2005.

the yen, and the shift of the manufacturing industry to foreign countries, especially Asian countries, were the main reasons.

Characteristics of Industrialization in Tohoku The industrialization of Tohoku has largely progressed after the latter half of the 1960s as mentioned above, and has wiped out the region’s backwardness. However, the level of industrialization in Tohoku was low (Ando 1986; Itakura 1988). The progress of industrialization was called growth without development. The industrialization of Tohoku was driven by the agglomeration of branch factories of manufacturers headquartered in the Tokyo metropolitan area. Moreover, many branch factories were plants of the mass production type, without the research and development section. For that reason, a strange phenomenon appeared in the industrialization of Tohoku. In spite of the increase in Tohoku’s share of the manufacturing industry mentioned above, the relative level of productivity of Tohoku in the manufacturing industry went down during the 1960s to the 1970s and stagnated even in the 1980s (see figure 16.3). Based on this phenomenon, the industrialization of Tohoku was interpreted to be largely dependent on the agglomeration of labor-intensive factories. The ratio of females in the manufacturing industry in Tohoku was considerably higher than that of other regions. For example, the above female ratio of Tohoku in 1986 was 51 percent, while the average of the country was 38 percent. In addition, female employees’ wage levels are lower than that of males in Japan. Therefore, although the number of

As Percent of National Productivity

320  Masateru Hino

90 80 70 60 50 40

1960

'70

'80

Year

'90

2000

Figure 16.3. Ratio of Tohoku in the Amount of Value Added per Person in Japan.

employees rapidly increased, the productivity level went down due to the increase of female employees with low wages. The branch factories of large manufacturers, especially electromechanical apparatus manufactures, generally had established a lot of small- and medium-sized subsidiary factories around their plants in order to reduce labor costs. Those subsidiary factories employed farmers’ wives at low wages (Sueyoshi 1989). On the other hand, however, there were main factories of major manufacturers embedded in Tohoku (Yamaguchi 1982). In addition, the number of them was not small. They formed their own regional production systems through organizing subsidiary and local suppliers. Moreover, the formation of the new industrial agglomerations emerged as new machining centers: Kitakami City in Iwate Prefecture and Yonezawa City in Yamagata Prefecture (Seki and Kato 1994; Oda 2005). The factories that had depended on cheap labor started shifting to foreign countries in search of cheaper labor in the 1990s. As a result, the number of employees of this type of factory largely decreased. Thus, the relative productivity of manufacturing in Tohoku especially increased during the 1990s when the number of employees started to decrease (see figure 16.3).

The Case of Kakuda Basin Kakuda Basin refers to the administrative areas of Kakuda City and Marumori Town in Miyagi Prefecture. It is located about forty kilometers south from Sendai City, the regional center of Tohoku. The population and area of the Kakuda Basin was 49,991 persons and 421 square kilometers in 2005. Until the mid-1960s, it was a rural area along with a large part of Tohoku. The percentage of manufacturing in the composition of industry was only 5 percent in 1960, while the average of the country was 20 percent. In the Kakuda Basin, industrialization was remarkably delayed, and new graduates from junior and senior high school moved to industrial regions, such

The Impact of the Earthquake, Tsunami, and Nuclear Radiation   321  

as the Tokyo metropolitan area, to get jobs. For that reason, the population of this region decreased from sixty-five thousand in 1955 to fifty-three thousand in 1965. This situation changed greatly in the late 1960s. Four large companies headquartered in Tokyo established their branch factories in this region in 1967–1968. In particular, Alps Electric and Keihin Corporation promoted the industrialization of the region. Alps is one of largest companies producing electronic parts in Japan, mainly various sensors and switches at present. Keihin is a main supplier for Honda, producing carburetors, fuel injectors, fuel control devices, and compressors. The latter has four large-scale factories in the Kakuda Basin. Furthermore, the above two companies established subsidiaries and raised local suppliers around their branch factories in order to form their own local production systems. Figure 16.4 shows the distribution of factories in the Kakuda Basin in

Sendai Kakuda

K3 K2 K1

Number of Employees

300 or more 100 to 299 30 to 99

A

Kakuda City

Type of Industry Car parts Electronic parts Garments Others

A b u ku m a

0

1

2

3 km

K4

Marumori Town

Figure 16.4. Location of Factories in Kakuda Basin, Tohoku. K1, K2, and K3 indicate major hubs of distribution.

322  Masateru Hino

the late 1990s. About twenty-seven small- and medium-sized factories producing car parts and electronic parts can be seen in this map. A large number of them are either subsidiaries, local affiliates, or branch factories. As a result, job opportunities in the manufacturing industry increased greatly, and the population changed from decreasing to increasing in the late 1960s. These companies did not largely reduce the number of employees at the factories in this region even during the economic recession after the first oil crisis in 1973. Rather, they strengthened the management and production functions of their Kakuda factories. For example, Alps enlarged the position of the Kakuda factory from the production plant to the operation division that had the management function. Keihin moved some of its headquarters functions to the Kakuda factory when the head office was relocated from Kawasaki City in Kanagawa Prefecture to Tokyo in 1985. At the same time, the production function of the Kakuda factory was also strengthened. Furthermore, Keihin established their center of research and development in Kakuda in 1992. Thus, the number of employees in the manufacturing industry in the Kakuda Basin increased from fifty-two hundred in 1980 to seventyfour hundred in 1990. In 1993, however, Alps significantly reduced the number of employees at the Kakuda factory. Its main product was changed from cylinder heads for cassette decks to tact switches. In addition, the factory became a production plant that belonged to the operation division located in Osaki City, the northern part of Miyagi Prefecture. As a result, the number of employees at this factory decreased from 1,056 persons in 1986 to 592 in 1996. Local small- and medium-sized suppliers of Alps lost their business affiliate and had to develop new customers. The depression of the domestic economy by the bursting of Japan’s bubble economy and the real opening up of China to foreign direct investment were main reasons for this event. This is an example of the hollowing of an industry. On the other hand, Keihin also has become involved in direct investment in foreign countries, such as the United States and Thailand, along with the overseas direct investment of Honda, its parent company. Although Keihin had extended its business globally, the Kakuda division played an important role as the mother factory supporting the operation of foreign factories. In addition, the management function of oversea business was arranged in the Kakuda division. Therefore, the number of employees of the Kakuda division was maintained even in the 1990s. Besides Alps and Keihin, there is a large-scale factory of Iris Ohyama Corporation. It is located on the left side of the Abukuma River on the northern edge of Kakuda City (see figure 16.4). Iris was originally founded in Higashi-Osaka City, in western Japan. It produces various household items, such as plastic storage products, furniture, pet supplies, and gardening articles. It established a branch factory in Ogawa Town, adjacent to the Kakuda Basin, in 1972. After the first oil crisis Iris moved its headquarters to Sendai, and it established its Kakuda factory in 1992. The Kakuda factory is not a mere production site, but also bears a part of the headquarters function. The industrialization of the Kakuda Basin introduced here is not a special case

The Impact of the Earthquake, Tsunami, and Nuclear Radiation   323  

in Tohoku, and can be seen in other regions. That is, although a large number of the factories in Tohoku are small- and medium-sized subsidiary, affiliated, or branch factories, there are main factories of large companies organizing local production systems at the same time. Two types of main factories are recognized. One is factories that were reduced by the shift of production functions overseas after the early 1990s. The other is factories that sustained or elevated their functions as production bases. Furthermore, there are a small number of local companies that grew from secondary subcontractors of Alps and Keihin to be independent suppliers around the Kakuda Basin.

Damage to Factories Related to Automobile Production in Tohoku As of 2011 there were two car assembly factories in Tohoku. Both of them belonged to subsidiary companies of Toyota Motor Corporation, the world’s largest automaker. (These subsidiary companies amalgamated and became Toyota Motor East Japan in 2012, whose headquarters was located in the same location as Central Motors Company). One is a factory of Kanto Auto Works, which is headquartered in Yokosuka City, Kanagawa Prefecture. It established its assembly factory in Kanegasaki Town in Iwate Prefecture in 1993 in order to correspond with the production expansion plan of Toyota. The other is a headquarters factory of Central Motor Company, which was moved from Sagamihara City in Kanagawa Prefecture to Sendai North Industrial Estate (Ohira Village in Miyagi Prefecture) in 2010 to enlarge its production. Toyota had previously established a subsidiary company that produced the antilock brake system in the same estate, in 1998. Toyota announced that the engine factory would be constructed in the place adjacent to the headquarters factory of Central Motor during the 2010s. Toyota had a plan to raise Tohoku as Toyota’s third domestic production base after Tokai and northern Kyushu. Corresponding to the plan, Denso, one of a group of Toyota companies, set up a subsidiary company in Tamura City, Fukushima Prefecture, in 2011. In addition, Nissan Motor Company arranged an engine factory in Iwaki City, Fukushima Prefecture, in 1994. This plant is one of two Nissan engine factories. It suffered serious damage from the earthquake and was forced to stop production for about one month. Therefore, the auto sector in Tohoku is expected to expand further in the future. Six prefectures of the Tohoku region equally recognized the necessity of the formation of an auto sector cluster as an important strategy for industrial promotion in the region, and an industrial-government-academic council was established in each prefecture for the purpose. In addition, the coordinated conference for the Tohoku auto sector cluster formation that bundles the above six councils was also set up. The industrial group, prefecture governments, economic organizations, universities, and supporting groups in Tohoku participate in this conference. It aims to promote the agglomeration of industries related to car production by the expansion of dealings and the increase of auto components suppliers through the improvement of quality control and the productivity of local enterprise and the attraction of enterprises from other regions.

324  Masateru Hino

Characteristics of Factories Related to Automobile Production The Tohoku Bureau of Economy, Trade and Industry (TBETI) introduced the directory of factories related to automobile production in Tohoku on its homepage (TBETI 2010). Based on the directory of 2010, figure 16.5 shows the distribution of the above-mentioned factories. Overall, a lot of factories were located along the Tohoku Expressway from Shirakawa City in the southern end of Fukushima Prefecture to Kitakami City in the central area of Iwate Prefecture. A relatively large agglomeration of factories was seen around Kohriyama City in Fukushima Prefecture, Sendai City in Miyagi Prefecture, and Kitakami City. Additionally, the agglomeration of factories concentrated along the national road between Yonezawa City in the southern part of

0

50 km

Figure 16.5. Distribution of Factories Related to Car Production in 2010, Tohoku.

Kitakami

Sendai

Yamagata Yonezawa

Kohriyama Iwaki Shirakawa

Number of Factories

40 20 5

The Impact of the Earthquake, Tsunami, and Nuclear Radiation   325  

Yamagata Prefecture to Yamagata Basin in the central area of Yamagata Prefecture. Moreover, another agglomeration of factories developed in Iwaki City, Fukushima Prefecture, in which a large Nissan engine factory is located, as previously mentioned. A large number of the factories related to automobile production in the Tohoku region are small- and medium-sized ones. According to a 2003 report by a car agglomeration formation committee,1 factories with less than fifty employees accounted for 50 percent of all the manufacturers who responded to their survey. On the other hand, the factories with three hundred people or more made up only 6 percent of the respondents. This size composition is related to the hierarchical organizations of automobile production, which include many small subcontractors. For example, Keihin’s factory in the Kakuda Basin previously mentioned is a first-order supplier (subsidiary) that produces engine parts for Honda. The factory has several subsidiaries and subordinate factories around the Kakuda Basin, which are second-order suppliers. The second-order suppliers also have subcontractors. Furthermore, some of the latter have subcontractors as well. In general, the factory sizes become smaller with each step down the hierarchy. That is, a large number of the factories in the Tohoku region are second- and third-order suppliers whose employment size is small. When the feature of modes of production was referred, 73 percent of the respondent factories produced according to the blueprint offered by the enterprise at the delivery destination, and 17 percent designed their products based on specifications shown from the delivery enterprise. Factories that produced on their own original designs made up only 3 percent of the respondents. On the other hand, the headquarters factories made up 49 percent, and 44 percent were the branch factories. The subsidiaries of parent companies headquartered in another region are included among the headquarters factories. Therefore, the ratio of the factories of the local capital is actually smaller than the one indicated by the above ratio of headquarters factories. And it can be said that factories of local capital are almost second- and third-order subcontractors. Their shipment destinations tend to be limited to the parent companies and headquarters factories located in the same prefecture or the Kanto region. According to the survey results, the shipment ratio to the same prefecture and the Kanto region exceeded 70 percent, excluding Akita Prefecture. The shipment ratio to the Tokai region, with assembly factories for Toyota and Honda, was relatively low.

Earthquake Damage In May 2011, the Japan Industrial Location Center (JILC) conducted a nationwide survey investigating how the earthquake influenced about 6,000 companies with 150 employees or more (JILC 2011). Responses were obtained from 943 companies, of which 287 had factories in the Tohoku region and the North Kanto region. The number of companies that directly received earthquake damage was 232, and 271 companies were influenced by the damage to customers and suppliers. Among all respondents nationwide, 41 percent stopped their production entirely. If the question were limited to companies having factories in Tohoku and North

326  Masateru Hino

Kanto, the percentage should become higher. Another 36 percent of all respondents had stopped a part of their production. However, the companies which could not respond to the survey due to damage were unknown. Therefore, it is difficult to mention it here. Seventy-two percent of the responding companies restarted all production as of May. On the other hand, 44 percent of the enterprises that responded were affected by electricity power shortages after the earthquake. Moreover, 73 percent of the 410 companies that said they were affected by electricity shortages specifically noted rolling blackouts. The percentage of companies that said they were affected by power failure due to the earthquake was 42 percent. Furthermore, enterprises that suffered difficulty in procuring materials and parts reached 67 percent of the whole. And the enterprises that were affected by the stop of utilities was 51 percent. Because the outsourcing and subcontract systems have grown remarkably in the automobile production sector, the latter two difficulties are thought to have been more serious problems than in the other sectors. If major automobile manufacturers begin to procure their materials and parts from foreign countries in order to secure the substitutions, deindustrialization may accelerate even more in Japan. This possibility is worried about in Tohoku.

Conclusion This article checked the appropriateness of the image in which Tohoku is a center of manufacturing and introduced the current state of the automobile industry in Tohoku and its damage from the March 11 earthquake. As for the image, it can be concluded that it is not an appropriate image. Although Tohoku has certainly wiped out its backwardness in industrialization, it is not now an outstanding region within the country on the scale of industrial agglomeration and in its productivity. Tohoku has, however, the competitive advantage of being near the Tokyo metropolitan area, which is the largest industrial agglomeration area and market. Therefore, it is expected that Tohoku will raise its position as a manufacturing area in the country in the future. On the other hand, as for the current state of the automobile industry in Tohoku, over one thousand factories related to car production have already been located in this region. This includes two assembly factories and one engine factory. Moreover, there are some parts factories that stopped production after the March 11 earthquake. In that sense, it might be able to be said that the agglomeration of the auto sector is considerably advanced in Tohoku. This present situation was not imaginable twenty years ago. Thinking the auto sector in Tohoku has entered a real expansion period seems to be proper. The development of the auto sector in Tohoku greatly depends on how Toyota positions Tohoku in its own production system. The difficulty of procurement and the transportation of parts and materials in addition to the direct physical damage of factories were serious consequences of the earthquake. The necessity for rechecking infrastructure, such as traffic networks, not only for their efficiency but also from the viewpoint of crisis management, is strongly recognized.

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This paper first appeared in The Science Reports of Tohoku University (Seventh Series) 60 (2014): 71–82, although some parts were revised: “Changing Perceptions of the Tohoku Regions as a Manufacturing District After the Great East Japan Earthquake.”

Note 1. This investigation mailed the questionnaire to 815 factories located in Tohoku’s six prefectures, and obtained answers from 236 entrepreneurs.

References Ando, S. 1986. Chiho no keizai Hatten naki seicho [Economy of Province: Growth Without Development]. Tokyo: Nihonkeizai Shimbunsha. Hino, M. 2003. “Tohoku chiho no kougyoka ni kansuru ninshiki” [Recognition of the Industrialization in the Tohoku Region]. In Nouson kukan no kenkyu (ge) [Study on rural space (II)], edited by H. Ishihara, 82–96. Tokyo: Taimeido. ———. 2004. “Tohoku—koshinsei no kokufuku to chokumen suru kadai” [Northeast Japan: Overcoming of Backwardness and Unresolved Problems]. In Nihon keizai chiri dokuhon [Reader of Japanese Economic Geography], edited by A. Takeuchi, 134–146. Tokyo: Toyokeizai Shimposha. Itakura, K. 1988. Nihon kogyo no chiiki shisutemu [Regional Systems of Manufacturing Industry in Japan]. Tokyo: Taimeido. JILC. 2011. “Higashi nihon daishinsai denryoku busoku to ni yoru seisan kino no eikyo ni tsuite” [Influences on Production Function of Manufacturers Due to the East Japan Great Earthquake Disaster and the Shortage of Electricity]. http://www.jilc.or.jp/ topics/6000enquete.html. Miyagawa, Y. 1977. “Jidosha kogyo” [Automobile Industry]. In Nihon kogyo no Chiiki kozo [Regional Structure of Japanese Industry], edited by K. Kitamura and T. Yada, 119–132. Tokyo: Taimeido. Oda, H. 2005. Gendai nihon no kikai kogyo shuseki [Spatial Dynamics of Japanese Machinery Industry in the Late 20th Century]. Tokyo: Kokon Shoin. Seki, M., and H. Kato. 1994. Tekunoporisu to sangyo chiiki shinko [Techno Polis and Vitalization of Industrial Areas]. Tokyo: Shinhyoron. Sueyoshi, K. 1989. “Mogami chiiki ni okeru denki kogyo no tenkai” [The Development of Electrical Machinery Industry in Mogami District, Yamagata]. Keizai Chirigaku Nenpoh [Annals of the Japan Association of Economic Geographers] 35:221–244. Takeuchi, A. 1996. Kogyo chiiki no hendo [Changes in the Regional System of the Manufacturing Industry]. Tokyo: Taimeido. TBETI. 2010. “Tohoku chiiki no Jidosha sango shuseki ni mukete” [Aiming at the Agglomeration of Auto Industry in the Tohoku Region]. Yamaguchi, F. 1982. “Denki kikai kougyo no chiho bunsan to chiiki teki seisan taikei” [Decentralization of Electrical Machinery Factories and Regional Production System]. Keizai Chirigaku Nenpo [Annals of the Japan Association of Economic Geographers] 28:38–60.

Part 4

Socioeconomic Dimensions of Response, Recovery, and Reconstruction The Rebuilding Dilemma

17

Disaster Prevention Culture Role of Schools in Saving Tsunami Victims Kenji Yamazaki Destructive natural forces can immediately expose local weaknesses in infrastructure or problems in social systems. The weakest people suffer the most damage from a disaster. The Sanriku tsunami that occurred on March 11, 2011, damaged a vast area of Tohoku. Tohoku has supported the development of Japan’s metropolises, including Tokyo, as a source of food, energy, and labor. Tohoku’s productivity has been relatively low compared with other areas due to depopulation, aging, and the weak competitiveness of its primary industries. The damage from the earthquake may further deteriorate Tohoku’s productivity, expanding the economic gap between Tohoku and other areas. The number of dead and missing in Iwate Prefecture, the geographic focus of this study, is 5,993. Most of the victims drowned in the tsunami. Fortunately, no students and children who were at school and evacuated following school instructions were among the dead or missing. Some students who were absent from school and stayed at home when the tsunami hit and some of those who went home with their parents after the issuance of evacuation warnings were lost. Because most students were at school that day, the student victims’ ratio to the total death toll is significantly small. This suggests that analyzing how the students evacuated safely might allow us to find a way to establish effective public measures and mutual aid systems. This study discusses the following three issues. First, details of students’ evacuation process are identified. Several schools stand in tsunami-prone locations on the coast of Iwate. Each school’s potential risk of being hit by a tsunami was estimated from its elevation above sea level and its distance from the shoreline, and that risk level was then compared with the schools’ actual damage. While the schools located in tsunami-prone areas were devastated by the massive tsunami waves, the students and teachers who were at the schools safely evacuated. As they showed, evacuating to higher ground immediately after earthquake shaking ceases is the first priority for surviving tsunamis. On the Sanriku Coast of Tohoku, there has been an old saying: tsunami tendenko, which means that if you want to survive a tsunami, you should run away without even stopping to worry about your family. In the tsunami that hit the Sanriku Coast in 1896 (Meiji 29), at many households all the family members were lost. The saying tsunami tendenko was created so that as many family members as 331  

332  Kenji Yamazaki

possible could survive tsunamis, just running for higher ground and caring only for their own safety. At present, however, the mechanism of tsunamis has been identified, and it allows us to issue tsunami warnings prior to tsunami surges to prevent loss of human lives. These warnings could be used to develop public support measures as well as mutual support systems in municipalities and communities, particularly to save the weak from tsunamis, while keeping tsunami tendenko as each individual’s motto. How tsunami tendenko was practiced at schools was analyzed to examine the possibility of whether their practices could apply to other institutions or to those in other regions. Second, evacuation route models are discussed. The best way to survive a tsunami is escaping to higher ground where tsunamis do not reach. On the Sanriku Coast, where mountains lie close to the coast, establishing escape routes from coastal towns to the mountains is an urgent task. Its cost will be much lower than that to construct tsunami walls. Modeling evacuation routes that lead people within a short period of time to safe and high ground where tsunamis will not reach will be a vital issue. Third, the potential of disaster prevention education to reduce disaster risk and its ability to mitigate damage is analyzed. Disaster prevention education is closely related to generating disaster awareness in local culture, and it has led to realizing safe and secured communities, the goal of regional recovery from the damage caused by the latest tsunami in 2011. Schools could play a major role in generating disaster sensitive community culture. Disaster prevention education to minimize the damage from natural disasters can be conducted by having students think about past disasters to create proper evacuation models. Investigating schools’ functions to instruct students to escape from tsunamis and to serve as shelters for evacuees may identify how the partnership between schools and communities could work to reduce disaster risks. Developing such partnerships against disaster risks has a potential to promote intergenerational exchanges in the community. The above-mentioned issues are discussed through actual cases by using on-site interview survey results, local maps, and statistical materials. From March to April 2011, the author was engaged in gathering relief supplies that were deficient in the damaged areas and delivering them to the evacuees. Since May 2011, I have also supported students, teaching them in regular classes and also in remedial classes during the summer and winter. In the course of such voluntary works, I conducted intensive interviews with community members, and other on-site surveys.

Extent of Damage in Iwate Prefecture The Sanriku Coast is a tsunami-prone area. During the past 120 years, through the Meiji, Showa, and Heisei eras, three massive tsunamis, including that from the 2011 Sanriku earthquake, struck the area (see chapter 1). Along the Sanriku Coast, fishery resources are abundant because of the region’s topographic features as a ria coast. Therefore, people have continued to live there, reproducing the fishery industry in spite of the risk of tsunamis. Typically, on ria coasts, rivers flow into the sea with the organic matter generated in the upstream mountains. As a result, estuaries are

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formed at the mouths of the rivers. An estuary is quite a rich plankton source, as shown in Reforestation of Fishermen: Forest Lovers of the Sea (Hatakeyama 2003). It is the main reason why people have recovered from the devastations caused by tsunamis that hit the coast region repeatedly and not abandoned the land.

Damage Caused by the 2011 Sanriku Tsunami in the Municipalities Along the Sanriku Coast There are twelve municipalities on the Sanriku Coast, and all of them were hit by the earthquake and tsunami. Their damage from the disaster varies. To overview the municipalities’ damage state, the number of evacuees and the number of collapsed houses were compared. Upon the tsunami warning or chased by the tsunami, people escaped, running into shelters to seek safety and security. However, safety and security were not necessarily assured at the shelters. After the tsunami, because of the disruption of electricity and gas supplies and because of food shortages, more people surged to schools or community centers designated as emergency shelters. Not a few moved to other shelters to find a less crowded and warmer place. On March 21, ten days after the disaster, the total number of evacuees and shelters in the municipalities located on the coast numbered 45,119 and 358, respectively. According to the national census conducted in 2010, the total population of the twelve municipalities on the coast was 274,066, which indicates 16.5 percent of the total population evacuated. The percentages by municipality in rank order follow: Rikuzentakata, 50.7 percent; Otsuchi, 36.8 percent; Yamada, 27.7 percent; Kamaishi, 19.3 percent; Ofunato, 15.9 percent; Tanohata, 14.7 percent; Noda, 13.4 percent; Miyako, 11.4 percent; Iwaizumi, 3.0 percent; Kuji, 0.1 percent; and Hirono, 0.1 percent. The evacuation rate of more than half of the population of Rikuzentakata indicates how serious the disaster damage was. The seriousness of the damage is also known from the number of dead and missing people: Rikuzentakata, 1,848; Otsuchi, 1,286; Kamaishi, 1,048; Yamada, 961; Miyako, 541; and Ofunato, 425. These amount to 98.7 percent of the dead and missing in Iwate Prefecture. The percentages of the number of collapsed houses to the number of households before the disaster by municipality follow: Otsuchi, 67.0 percent; Yamada, 48.9 percent; Rikuzentakata, 43.7 percent; Noda, 31 percent; Ofunato, 25.2 percent; Kamaishi, 23 percent; and Miyako, 21.2 percent. The residences include owned houses, public houses for rent, private houses for rent, and employers’ houses. The percentages of Rikuzentakata, Otsuchi, and Yamada are ranked high in both lists, which shows how extensive the disaster damage was in these municipalities. Particularly in Rikuzentakata and Otsuchi, municipality functions completely broke down, with them losing the town halls and many of the municipal employees who worked there due to the tsunami. Kamaishi, Ofuntato, and Miyako are located at railway transport hubs of the Sanriku Coast area, with populations of more than twenty thousand. These cities expanded their territories in the municipal consolidations conducted after the Heisei era started in January 1989. Each of the smaller municipalities had their own unique tsunami prevention systems; however, the sys-

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tems, particularly their know-how for minimizing disaster risks, could not function well in the consolidated municipal organization. The scale and state of tsunami destruction are different by harbor because each harbor’s topography is different. The damage by tsunami varies by place within a municipality. The damage tends to be concentrated in specific areas along the coast. Such a tendency is seen in Tanohata, Noda, and Iwaizumi. Because the area ratios of the communities along the coast to the total area of a municipality are small, the indexes indicating disaster damage for each municipality are not significantly high. However, the disaster damage for each community along the coast is devastating. Figure 17.1 shows the damage levels of the municipalities located on the coast of Iwate. Level I: the damaged area extends all over the municipality, and the central area is completely destroyed; Level II: though partly devastated, the central area is not seriously destroyed; Level III: only a few parts are destroyed; Level IV: suffered little or no damage because the tsunami’s intensity was mitigated by tsunami walls or floodgates, which bore the brunt of the tsunami, and the floodgates and walls suffered some damage. In Rikuzentakata the seawalls were overwhelmed by the tsunami, causing severe damage to the city. On the Sanriku ria coast, topographies are different between the north and south. North to Miyako, cliffs created by land uplift extend and they are indented by small coves, while the south coast topography was shaped by submergence. Such differences in the topographical orientation between the north and south Sanriku coasts resulted in the different damage levels among municipalities on the coast.

Disparity Between the Total Number of Dead and Missing, and That of Elementary and Junior High School Students Table 17.1 presents the number of dead and missing and that of elementary and junior high school students in twelve municipalities located on the Sanriku Coast. The dead and missing numbered 6,337, or 2.47 percent of the municipalities’ total population. By municipality, the highest ratio of 9.14 percent for the number of dead and missing against the municipality population is recorded for Otsuchi, where many people, including the town mayor, were lost in the tsunami. Nearly 8.37 percent of Rikuzentakata and 4.42 percent of Yamada followed Otsuchi. Because these percentages are the victims’ ratio to the municipalities’ total population, in communities that were intensively hit by tsunamis, the dead and missing ratios are higher than those for all the municipalities. On the other hand, the dead and missing elementary schoolchildren and junior high school students numbered 21 and 15, respectively. The respective percentage of these to the total number of children and students are 0.17 and 0.2 percent. The dead and missing children and students were those who were absent from school or who left school with their parents after the earthquake. There were no children and student victims among those who stayed at school after the earthquake. This suggests a vital issue in how lives could be saved during an emergency. Why could the schools save the children and students? The schools instructed the children and students

Hirono Cho

Kuji City Noda Village Fudai Village

Tanohata Village Iwaizumi Town

Miyako City

Yamada Town Otsuchi Town Kamaishi City

Ofunato City

Rikuzentakata City

Levels I II

the damaged area extends all over the municipality and the central area is completely destroyed (except Fudai) though partly devastated, the central area is not seriously destroyed

III

only a limited area is damaged

IV

damaged seawall and watergate

Figure 17.1. Damage Levels in the Municipalities on Iwate Coast.

Rikuzentakata Ofunato Kamaishi Otsuchi Yamada Rikuzentakata Miyako Ofunato Iwaizumi Kamaishi Tanohata Otsuchi Fudai Yamada Noda Miyako Kuji Iwaizumi Hirono Tanohata sum Fudai Noda Kuji Hirono sum 15277 18625 23302 59442 40738 10804 39578 3843 15277 3088 18625 4632 59442 36875 10804 17913 3843 274117 3088 4632 36875 17913 274117

1397 823 1951 542 452 7 1091 31 1397 1 823 38 542 47 0 31 63371 38 4 0 6337

9.14 4.42 8.37 0.91 1.11 0.06 2.76 0.81 9.14 0.03 4.42 0.82 0.91 0.01 0.06 0 0.81 2.31 0.03 0.82 0.01 0 2.31

2)/1)*100 %

201023302 1951 8.37 dead and census 40738 452 2)/1)*100 1.11 missing population 39578 2) 1091 % 2.76 1)

2010 dead and census population missing 2) 1)

1029 1203 3071 2043 493 1297 188 769 142 1029 206 3071 2185 493 969 188 13595 142 206 2185 969 13595

38 31 03 03 03 03 00 00 210 0 0 0 21

0.29 0.67 0.1 0.05 0 0.23 0 0.39 0 0.29 0 0.1 00 00 0.150 0 0 0 0.15

626 675 1729 1230 261 996 121 449 83 626 147 1729 1209 261 624 121 815083 147 1209 624 8150

011 00 02 02 00 00 00 00 15 0 0 0 0 15

0 1.63 00 0 0.2 0 0.45 00 00 00 00 0.18 0 0 0 0 0.18

number of dead and dead and junior high missing of number of 4)/3)*100 6)/5)*100 missing school junior high pupils 3) % % pupils 4) students school 5) students 1203 8 0.67 number 675of dead and 11 1.63 dead and junior high missing of number of 2043 1 4)/3)*100 0.05 1230 0 6)/5)*100 0 missing school junior high pupils1297 3) 3 % 0.23 students 996 school 2 % 0.2 pupils 4) 769 3 0.39 5) 449 students2 0.45

Table 17.1. The Number of Dead and Missing Students by Municipality

Table 17.1. The Number of Dead and Missing Students by Municipality

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quite properly during and after the earthquake to have them evacuate. During the earthquake the students were asked to hide under their desks, and immediately after the earthquake shakes stopped, they were instructed to escape to higher ground. Then the tendenko spirit was actually practiced. Such practices seem to indicate how disaster relief measures could be developed.

Disaster Damage on Elementary and Junior High Schools Located in the Coastal Area, Iwate Schools Located in Tsunami-Prone Areas In Iwate Prefecture, the highest altitude to which the tsunami reached after the 2011 Sanriku earthquake was 40.4 meters, at Aneyoshi, Omoe Peninsula, Miyako, and in Rikuzentakata, with the tsunami traveling inland for three kilometers. Schools that are located within three kilometers of the shoreline and those whose elevation from the sea level is lower than forty meters are defined as schools standing on tsunamiprone locations. These locations were identified on topography maps. The schools’ damage state was surveyed on the basis of the map and reports of Haraguchi and Iwamatsu (2011). In accordance with the definition above, 101 elementary and junior high schools in Iwate face tsunami risks, standing on tsunami-prone locations. Table 17.2 presents schools that are still located in tsunami-prone areas and those that moved to other facilities to resume their own school activities because the school buildings immersed in water by the tsunami cannot be used (hereinafter referred to as seriously damaged schools). The two types of schools on the tables are organized by jurisdiction of the four education offices in Kesennuma, Kamaishi, Shimohei, and Kunohe, respectively. Among 122 elementary schools and 62 junior high schools located on the coast, 65 elementary (53.3 percent) and 36 junior high schools (58.1 percent) stand in tsunami-prone areas. From the viewpoint of the number of students, 71.9 percent of elementary school children and 78.2 percent of junior high students are studying at schools located in tsunami-prone areas in the four education office jurisdictions. That is because, on the Sanriku Coast, the population is concentrated in a relatively small area on the coast. Among the four education office jurisdictions, in Kamaishi the percentages of children and students who are studying at schools located in tsunami-prone are the highest, at 86.7 and 90.2 percent, respectively. Most of the schools located in the tsunami-prone areas were not seriously damaged by the 2011 disaster. The seriously damaged schools in total numbered twentyfour. The percentage of these to the total schools is different by education office jurisdiction. The percentage identified the tsunami risk level to which the schools were exposed. Comparing the percentage among the schools, the risk level difference among schools can be shown. In the Kesennuma jurisdiction, the respective percentage of elementary and junior high students who were enrolled in seriously damaged schools were 12.4 percent and 25.2 percent, while in the Kamaishi jurisdiction the

sum

Kunohe

Simohei

Kamaishi

Kesennuma

Place

total(1) located tsunami prone area (2) (2)/(1)*100% seriously damaged school (3) (3)/(1)*100% total(1) located tsunami prone area (2) (2)/(1)*100% seriously damaged school (3) (3)/(1)*100% total(1) located tsunami prone area (2) (2)/(1)*100% seriously damaged school (3) (3)/(1)*100% total(1) located tsunami prone area (2) (2)/(1)*100% seriously damaged school (3) (3)/(1)*100% total(1) located tsunami prone area (2) (2)/(1)*100% seriously damaged school (3) (3)/(1)*100%

junior high school

number number number number number number number number of of of of of of of schools teachers classes of pupils schools teachers classes students 27 433 194 3497 17 331 90 2028 18 316 143 2778 12 259 72 1807 66.7 73 73.7 79.4 70.6 78.2 80 89.1 4 59 23 344 5 80 20 455 22.2 18.7 16.1 12.4 41.7 30.9 27.8 25.2 14 271 131 2696 7 150 55 1445 12 240 114 2337 6 129 48 1304 85.7 88.6 87 86.7 85.7 86 87.3 90.2 6 109 54 1051 3 64 23 628 50 45.4 47.4 45 50 49.6 47.9 48.2 49 671 293 4781 22 384 119 2737 22 345 163 2976 9 194 68 1762 44.9 51.4 55.6 62.2 40.9 50.5 57.1 64.4 3 32 14 221 1 20 7 129 13.6 9.3 8.6 7.4 11.1 10.3 10.3 7.3 32 463 209 3570 16 307 88 2045 13 253 121 2369 9 207 60 1582 40.6 54.6 57.9 66.4 56.3 67.4 68.2 77.4 1 17 10 97 1 11 3 40 7.7 6.7 8.3 4.1 11.1 5.3 5 2.5 122 1838 827 14544 62 1172 352 8255 65 1154 541 10460 36 789 248 6455 53.3 62.8 65.4 71.9 58.1 67.3 70.5 78.2 14 217 101 1713 10 175 53 1252 21.5 18.8 18.7 16.4 27.8 22.2 21.4 19.4

elementary school

Table 17.2: The number of schools located in tsunami-prone areas

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percentages were 45 percent and 48.2 percent, which indicates extraordinarily high risk level. In the Kunohe jurisdiction, the number of schools located in high-risk areas is relatively low because some schools there were integrated into other schools in different places.

School Locations and Seriously Damaged Schools Table 17.3 shows the number of schools that are situated in the risky locational conditions, such as having an elevation above sea level of thirty meters or lower and a distance from the shoreline of one thousand meters or less. Seventy-one schools meet such conditions. Out of these seventy-one schools, twenty-one were seriously damaged. The total number of the seriously damaged schools amounted to twentyfour. That means three schools located more than a kilometer from the shore were seriously damaged. Among schools sited on risky, tsunami-prone flooding locations, fourteen elementary school elevations and seven junior high school elevations were lower than ten meters. Among these twenty-one schools in total, twelve were seriously damaged. Ten elementary schools and two junior high school locations’ distance from the shoreline was one hundred meters or less. Out of these twelve schools, eight were seriously damaged and reusing them is impossible. Five schools stand on extremely risky locations, with elevations of less than ten meters and being one hundred meters or less from the shoreline, and as many as four of these suffered unrecoverable damage—the whole school buildings submerged in water. If escaping from these schools to higher ground had not been possible, their death tolls would have been catastrophic. The more distant from the shoreline that schools are located, the fewer schools are classified as seriously damaged. The percentages of seriously damaged schools decrease inversely to the distance from the shoreline. The percentages by distance follow: shorter than 100 meters, 66.6 percent; 100 meters to 200 meters, 55.5 percent; 200 meters to 500 meters, 18.8 percent; 500 meters to 1,000 meters, 14 percent. Likewise, the seriously damaged school percentages inversely decrease to the elevation of school locations: less than 10 meters, 57.1 percent; 10 meters to 20 meters, 30 percent; 20 meters to 30 meters, 10 percent. However, there are some seriously damaged schools even though they were located from 500 to 1,000 meters from the shore. The statistics indicate that the establishment of measures that enable immediate escaping from schools located in a tsunami-prone area is indispensable.

Successful Evacuation of Three Schools from the Tsunami Here, the examples of three schools that succeeded in complete evacuation from the tsunami are discussed. All schools were immersed in water; however, no victims were recorded for the schools. This was due to the proper evacuations. Common factors that are seen in their evacuation behavior are examined. Each school’s evacuation state follows.

sea level

sea level

distance from the shoreline 100～200ｍ 200～500ｍ 500～1,000ｍ 100～under 200ｍ 200～under 500ｍ 500～under 1,000ｍSum

distance from the shoreline damaged 0～100ｍ damaged 100～200ｍ damaged 200～500ｍ damaged 500～1000ｍdamaged Sum number of schools schools schools schools schools schools schools schools schools schools under 10ｍ 5 4 4 4 5 2 7 2 21 12 under 20ｍ 5 4 2 0 3 0 10 2 20 6 under 30m 2 0 5 1 8 1 17 1 30 3 Sum 12 8 11 5 16 3 34 5 71 21

number seriously number seriously number seriously number seriously number seriously of damaged of damaged of damaged of damaged of damaged schools schools schools schools schools schools schools schools schools schools 0〜 elementary school 3 2 3 3 4 1 4 1 14 7 junior high school 2 2 1 1 1 1 3 1 7 5 under 10ｍ sum 5 4 4 4 5 2 7 2 21 12 10m〜 elementary school 5 4 2 0 3 0 7 1 17 5 junior high school 0 0 0 0 0 0 3 1 3 1 under 20ｍ sum 5 4 2 0 3 0 10 2 20 6 20ｍ〜 elementary school 2 0 2 0 7 1 8 1 19 2 junior high school 0 0 3 1 1 0 9 0 13 1 under 30m sum 2 0 5 1 8 1 17 1 32 3 sum elementary school 10 6 7 3 14 2 19 3 40 14 junior high school 2 2 4 2 2 1 15 2 23 7 sum 12 8 11 5 16 3 34 5 73 21

0～100ｍ 0～under 100ｍ

Table 17.3: School location and seriously damaged schools

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Akasaki Elementary School, Ofunato Akasaki Elementary School (see photo 17.1) stands on quite low ground adjacent to the Ofunato harbor, located in the inner Ofunato Bay. The elevation of the land from the sea level is about zero meters. The distance from the school to the seashore is about one hundred meters. The tsunami resulting from the earthquake in Chile in 1960 damaged the school and the surrounding area seriously. The tsunami disaster motivated the community and school to annually conduct an evacuation drill to reduce the damage risk from tsunamis. Particularly, the evacuation drills for children and students on the way to and from schools were intensively conducted in cooperation with local disaster patrols and senior residents’ clubs. On the west side of the school, across a national highway, there is higher ground about nine meters above the school’s level and also the three-story Fishery Center building. This facility was designated as the first local shelter in the event of a tsunami. On March 11, 2011, in the morning, a graduation ceremony was held at the school. After lunch, most children went back home—except fifty who attended an after-school care program. Then, in the afternoon, the earthquake occurred. Immediately after the shakes ceased, the principal ordered teachers and children to evacuate to the Fishery Center. They arrived at the front of the center within ten minutes and the children’s teachers called roll. Children at a daycare center and residents also evacuated to the center. The city hall’s loudspeaker van was providing voice warnings of potential massive tsunami approaches. Forty minutes after the earthquake, the first tsunami waves hit the city, followed by the second and third waves. Because the Fishery Center building base was immersed in water, the teachers and children climbed up to the rooftop, the highest part of the building, by using a ladder. Fortunately, the water did not flow into the building. The evacuees observed two fishing boats crash into the schoolteachers’ lounge on the second floor. The principal started the evacuation immediately after the earthquake, following the principle of tsunami tendenko. The next day, the safety of the children who went back home before the earthquake was investigated. On March 15, all the children were confirmed alive.

Photo 17.1. Akasaki Elementary School, Ofunato. (Photograph by Kenji Yamazaki)

342  Kenji Yamazaki

Photo 17.2. Okirai Elementary School, Ofunato. (Photograph by Kenji Yamazaki)

Okirai Elementary School, Ofunato The Okirai Elementary School is located about one hundred meters from the shore (see photo 17.2). Between the sea and the school are rice paddies. Tsunami walls exist on the sea side of the rice paddies. The earthquake started at 2:46 p.m. Before the severe shakes ceased, the principal ordered the children and teachers to immediately escape to higher ground, keeping their indoor shoes on and leaving everything behind because he sensed the urgent danger of tsunami after the earthquake. The third graders and older children evacuated across the Hirata Bridge, which had been constructed three months before the earthquake. The first and second graders evacuated from the front entrance to the national highway. Then they headed for an open space in front of the Sanriku Railway’s Okirai Station. From there, the children saw their school be hit by the tsunami and become immersed up to the third floor. The children had had a narrow escape from the tsunami. The teachers made their utmost efforts to lead the children to higher ground, though some of the children stopped walking or cried from fear on the way. The principal kept taking his place at the end of the line, making sure no child was left behind. They walked and walked, observing repeated tsunami surges, ten in total. Each tsunami surge damaged and destroyed the town completely by up flow and back flow. Their evacuation continued until they reached a shrine standing high on the hill, where they watched the tsunami waves continue to surge.

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Photo 17.3. Toni Elementary School, Kamaishi. (Photograph by Kenji Yamazaki)

Toni Elementary School, Kamaishi The school stood facing the Toni Bay against steep cliffs (see photo 17.3). Few houses existed around the school. At the top of the cliff there is a Kumano shrine. A narrow and unpaved cliff trail leads to the shrine. The school was a three-story reinforced concrete building. After the earthquake, the school’s public address system and community radio did not work at all because of electric power blackouts, so no disaster information was available at the school. At the moment of the earthquake, the third graders and older students were attending a preliminary practice of the graduation ceremony at the gymnastic hall. During the quake, the principal asked a clerk to go to the hall to instruct the children to get out to the school ground when the shakes ceased. Immediately after confirming that all of the children were there, they started evacuating through the cliff trail to the shrine. Before 3:00 p.m. they arrived at the shrine, and from there they saw the school become immersed in water by the second and third tsunami strikes. The instructors then led the children to even higher ground, beyond the shrine, staying alert to the circumstances.

Lessons from the Three Schools’ Evacuation Behavior The lessons that we could learn from the three schools’ evacuation behavior are organized as below. a. Evacuate immediately after the earthquake. At all schools, instructors did not hesitate to start evacuation to higher ground immediately after the earthquake. They reached the first evacuation site within about fifteen minutes. This can be regarded as the practice of tsunami tendenko. b. Understanding the local conditions. They well understood the school’s locational conditions, which enabled them to know the necessity of immediate evacuation in spite of the lack of disaster information, expecting tsunami surges from the massive scale and duration of the earthquake shakes. c. Evacuation drills. Soon after assuming office, school administrators simulated the evacuation process from tsunamis. They confirmed and secured the evacu-

344  Kenji Yamazaki

ation route from school and had children practice evacuation drills to realize their smooth evacuation. d. Mutual support within evacuation groups. They supported one another during evacuations, keeping in step with the weakest so that no one fell behind. e. Continual vigilance against circumstances to secure safety. Even after they reached the first evacuation place, they continued to move to higher ground when they judged it was necessary to secure complete safety. These evacuation features common to the three schools were the result of the disaster prevention reduction education that had been provided at the schools. Such disaster prevention education could be applied to communities’ disaster risk management to realize a safe and secure living. Conducting evacuation drills and teaching how to mitigate disaster risks should be required at all educational institutes, including kindergartens; elementary, junior high, and high schools; and universities. Then the effects of the disaster prevention education will spread in the community as the children grow, which will enforce disaster risk management systems in the community. The disaster prevention education, including geographic study of local characteristics and issues, and its updates will be required for timely and practical disaster risk management systems in the community.

Meaning of Tsunami (Inochi) Tendenko How Tendenko Has Worked The term tendenko originated in the lessons that locals learned in the tsunami disaster that hit the Sanriku Coast in 1896, or Meiji 29 (Yamashita 2008). Because tsunami prediction was not possible and there were no facilities such as tide walls, many children and parents drowned together, trying to save one another. Taking the case of Taro, 130 households lost all family members in the tsunami. The death toll was 1,859, and only thirty-six people survived. The tragedy taught that running up to a higher place independently at the time of a tsunami, caring only for your own safety, was the only way to save yourself. However, it would be a challenge anytime for any people. People naturally try to help others in an emergency. Leaving helpless people to save yourself would be quite difficult even if there was a risk of getting lost with them. Tsunami tendenko is a traditional Japanese way of risk management for dealing with natural disasters in the society (from the Meiji to the Showa era). Public support measures in tsunami tendenko have been realized through the issuance of precise disaster warnings as well as the development of effective warning information systems and of evacuation routes. Now, inochi tendenko could work within an anti-disaster framework where people’s own efforts, mutual support, and public support measures are coordinated (see figure 17.2). Tsunami tendenko alone is insufficient in public disaster risk management. We should recognize that the present disaster risk management circumstances now are completely different from those years ago.

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Tsunami Tendenko

Save oneself

Inochi Tendenko

Save oneself

Public support

Support each other Figure 17.2. Tsunami Tendenko and Inochi Tendenko.

Tsunamis and Disaster Risk Management in Taro When the tsunami hit Taro in 1933, someone who evacuated onto the roof of a house testified that the house washed away by the tsunami was swung around again and again within the bay (Taro-cho 2005a). In the event of the 2011 Sanriku earthquake, the first tsunami waves hit the reef in the south of Taro Bay; then they raged into the bay, throwing up spray at the water gate of the Taro River, creating columns of water. After that, the tsunamis turned around clockwise to change course and went upstream on the Osanai River. Finally, the tsunami waves broke down the tsunami walls and destroyed the town of Taro. Figure 17.3 shows the areas immersed in water by the tsunami from the 2011 Sanriku earthquake. The flooded areas are almost the same as those in the 1933 event, when no tsunami wall existed. However, the wave heights of the 2011 tsunami were significantly higher than those of 1933. The elevation of the location where Taro First Junior High School (see figure 17.3, D) stands is higher by approximately 1.5 meters than that of the town block that the school faces. Because the school was not flooded when the tsunami hit the town in 1933, the school was designated as the second-level shelter. However, the school was immersed in water by the tsunami in 2011. The water level almost coincided with the tenmeter contour line. The street stretching straight toward the mountains worked as an evacuation route, while through the same route tsunamis advanced, washing right over the tsunami wall. The debris that was brought inland by the second tsunami wave through the route struck buildings and destroyed them. People who lived in areas adjacent to the

346  Kenji Yamazaki

Figure 17.3. Tsunami-Devastated Area in Taro Town, 1933 and 2011.

tsunami walls could not see the ocean and approaching tsunami, as the view was blocked by the high wall. It was one of the reasons those people continued to believe that the tsunami wall would be effective in blocking the tsunami. Immediately after the earthquake occurred at 2:46 p.m., warnings of a powerful, three-meter tsunami on the Tohoku coastline was issued. One day before March 11, there occurred minor earthquakes, and tsunami warnings were issued. The tsunami

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caused by the Chile earthquake in 1960 scarcely damaged Taro. The tsunami from the Chile earthquake in 2009 only damaged fishery facilities and resources (see table 7.1). These successes led to a myth that the ten-meter tsunami wall was high enough to block a three-meter tsunami. Later, the warnings of tsunamis ten meters high or higher were issued; however, they did not reach the residents due to blackouts and radio interruptions. People who were lost to the tsunami included residents who evacuated too late or were not able to evacuate, those who evacuated but returned home, volunteer firemen who accessed the tsunami wall to close the floodgate, and fire brigade members who stayed in the town to warn the residents of the danger of a tsunami and to urge them to evacuate. Taro can be divided into three districts by the placements of the tsunami walls. As shown in Figure 17.3, District A, created by land readjustment, is protected by double tsunami walls. Tsunami walls were constructed for District B in 1967 and for District C in 1978. The tsunamis in 2011 completely destroyed the tsunami wall facing District B. Each district’s death toll, total population, and the percentage of the dead to the total population follow: District A, 72 dead out of 1,610, or 4.5 percent; District B, 55 dead out of 566, or 9.7 percent; and District C, 17 dead out of 278, or 6.1 percent (Mainichi Newspapers, May 15, 2011). The death rate for District B, where the tsunami wall was destroyed, is higher than that of the other two districts. However, a toddlers’ daycare center located in District B (figure 17.3, E) that evacuated children immediately after the earthquake to Taro First Junior High School succeeded in saving all its children. In Figure 17.3, the places and directions in which photographs were taken are specified. Photo 17.4 shows tsunami surges washing right over the tsunami wall. It was taken from the third floor of the Taro Fisheries Cooperative. This reinforced concrete building was strong enough to withstand the tsunami. The person who took the photograph knew the tsunami was coming, having observed the sea from atop the tsunami wall, where he went after the earthquake because sufficient tsunami information was not available. He immediately returned to the cooperative’s building and urged all cooperative workers to evacuate soon and called for fishermen through the radio to take their boats out of the harbor. Because time ran out to have others evacuate, he himself could not evacuate and stayed at the cooperative building. Photo 17.5 shows the flood by the tsunami in the central part of Taro and Taro First Junior High School in the distance. The tsunami wall could not prevent the tsunami from rushing into the town. Photo 17.6 was taken from atop the tsunami wall after the tsunami receded. This photograph shows that the central part of Taro is covered by mud and debris left behind by the tsunami. After the tsunami, searching for survivors was the first priority. Before removing the debris, roads were restored. The removed debris was piled up in a ruined baseball field in District C on the coast. Photo 17.7 shows hollows excavated by the tsunami when it struck the tsunami wall and hit the ground. The hollows, some of which are 1.5 meters deep or deeper, damaged the base of the tsunami wall.

Photo 17.4. Tsunami waves surge over the seawall in Taro. (Courtesy of NHK, Japan).

Photo 17.5. Flooded central Taro, with Taro First Junior High School in the background. (Photograph by Kenji Yamazaki)

Photo 17.6. Mud and debris left behind by the tsunami in Taro. (Photograph by Kenji Yamazaki)

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Photo 17.7. Hollows created by the tsunami when it struck the seawall and hit the ground. (Photograph by Kenji Yamazaki)

The debris that crowded into the entrance of Taro First Junior High School is shown in Photo 17.8. A broken roof seen in the photograph was from a house that previously had stood five hundred meters from the school. The debris was also piled high in the school grounds. First the evacuees from the junior high school, the daycare center, and the Taro Clinic had gathered in the school grounds. Had they not evacuated to a higher place before the tsunami reached the school, they would have been swept away by the waves. Photo 17.9 shows a car toppled over by the tsunami at a place adjacent to the rock face where the wave heights of the tsunamis in 1896 and 1933 are marked. But the elevation where the car landed in the 2011 tsunami was significantly higher than the 1896 tsunami’s highest mark. Photo 17.10 shows abalone shells stuck in a rock face section three meters higher than the car. Photo 17.11 depicts a collapsed tsunami wall that was constructed across the Osanai River from east to west in the 1970s. The wall was completely destroyed by the tsunami, and the rubble scattered around the ruined wall suggests the enormous force of the tsunami’s backrush.

Declaration of “Town of Tsunami Prevention” In 2003, Taro-cho declared the town to be the “Town of Tsunami Prevention” on the occasion of the seventieth anniversary of the Showa Sanriku tsunami. A system to

Photo 17.8. Tsunami debris near the entrance to Taro First Junior High School. (Photograph by Kenji Yamazaki).

Photo 17.9. A car toppled over by the tsunami near the place where the heights of the 1896 and 1933 waves were recorded on a stone marker. (Photograph courtesy of Kenji Yamazaki)

Photo 17.10. Abalone shells from tsunami waves in a rock face section. (Photograph by Kenji Yamazaki)

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Photo 17.11. A collapsed tsunami seawall across the Osanai River built in the 1970s. (Photograph by Kenji Yamazaki).

convey accurate information to all residents of the town was completed along with the aforementioned structural improvements. The declaration aimed to revitalize the residents’ tsunami awareness and to ensure the implementation of their evacuation activities. A seismograph was set up, and tidal level monitoring and tsunami observance were conducted by remote control. Siren and amplification equipment was placed, and the sound could be heard four kilometers away. Every house was equipped with a community wireless system that directly received transmissions. The floodgate built in the coastal levee was not remotely operated, but it had a system of being unbolted by the first tidal wave of a tsunami and closed by buoyancy force. A number of evacuation routes were created so as to intersect with main roads of the town in a grid pattern. There were seventy routes in the whole town, and the total distance of the routes was as long as 17,635 meters. During evening hours, the routes were illuminated with lights charged with solar power. The town’s approach to tsunami disasters was expressed in the declaration of “Town of Tsunami Prevention” (Taro-cho 2005b) as follows: “We will never forget the history of tsunami disasters nor have too much confidence in modern facilities, but we will endeavor to work out measures against disasters which change with the progress of civilization, and to improve the ability to cope with disasters in our community.” This approach can be regarded as groundbreaking, in that it looks at tsunami disasters dynamically.

What Happened at Taro First Junior High School on That Day? Evacuation Activities of Taro First Junior High School At Taro First Junior High School, a rehearsal was being conducted for the graduation ceremony scheduled for the next day in the fifth class, and homeroom activities were being conducted in the sixth class. At 2:46 p.m., the earthquake occurred. Students got under desks until the shaking stopped. The shaking continued for over one minute but inflicted no great damage on the school building itself. Electricity went out, and no information from outside was available. Mr. Sasaki, the principal, instructed

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teachers, other school staff, and students to evacuate to the schoolyard. Except for a few teachers left at school to watch the situation, all the students evacuated to the schoolyard and waited for instructions. Since Taro First Junior High School was designated as an evacuation site, patients and hospital staff of a clinic evacuated to around the school gate. Another group of people arrived there. The group was thirty children and thirteen staff members of the Taro Municipal Daycare Center.

Evacuation Activities of the Daycare Center Mrs. Mitsuyama, the principal of the daycare center, had assumed that a tsunami could occur ever since she was assigned to the Taro Municipal Daycare Center. She knew that Taro district had been repeatedly hit by tsunamis and was under more severe conditions than her hometown, Miyako City, regarding tsunamis. However, the place designated as an evacuation site when she arrived at her new post was the hill in the neighborhood. Considering that the designated evacuation site was likely to be isolated and that a fire had occurred in the area when the tsunami struck in 1933, she decided to use Taro First Junior High School as their evacuation site and conducted evacuation drills accordingly. The 2011 Sanriku earthquake occurred during a scheduled children’s nap time. The staff woke the children, got them changed and dressed in winter clothes, carried two backpacks on their shoulders filled with blankets and plastic sheets, put toddlers into a wheelbarrow, put a note on the front door to show where they had evacuated, and began to evacuate. It took five minutes to cross over the Osanai River, go over the borotei barrier, cross a national road, and arrive at the Junior High School. When they crossed over the bridge and reached the national road, the fire brigade members who were controlling traffic there guided the children first. During the evacuation, there was no child who began to cry or stopped walking. A roll call was conducted at the evacuation place, Taro First Junior High School, and some children were delivered to their parents who came to pick them up.

Suddenly a Voice Cried Out, “Here Comes the Tsunami! Just Run!” Who cried out, “Here comes the tsunami! Just run!”? The voice was that of a janitor, who was beside the swimming pool. The janitor had been standing beside the swimming pool, watching the sea, ever since the students had evacuated to the schoolyard. The situation of the sea could not be directly viewed from the side of the swimming pool, as it was obstructed by the tide wall and some houses. However, the janitor yelled out, “Here comes the tsunami! Just run!” at the moment columns of water rose. The important thing is that he was aware that the rise of “water columns” means “tsunami.” Thirty minutes after the earthquake, in the sleeting rain, some doubt had begun to arise in people’s minds about the need for the evacuation to the schoolyard. When the atmosphere that the tsunami was unlikely to reach them became predominant among the evacuated people, the janitor who was watching the sea read the signs of danger and loudly urged the people to move. All the people began to move in a single burst at his cry. No one other than a person who

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had firsthand knowledge of the history of Taro’s being repeatedly hit by tsunamis was able to make this judgment. There was no hesitation. Generally we consider that the leadership of the principal enabled people to evacuate. However, if we track the progress of the situation scrupulously, a person who was familiar with the actual conditions of the community (history and locality) immediately offered the leader decisive and useful information for him to make the decision. This indicates that a teacher and/or staff member who is familiar with the history and locality of each community is necessary for disaster prevention education at schools where personnel changes are made frequently. Everyone ran at full speed from the schoolyard toward Mount Akanuma. Students ran, leading small children by the hand or holding babies in their arms. Rubble and wreckage were surging from behind. They crossed over the schoolyard and climbed the hill with all their might. Small children could not climb the steep slope. It was sleeting. The ground was very slippery. Students stood on the steep slope of the hill in a line and passed each child from hand to hand onto higher ground like a bucket brigade. Rubble and wreckage were swirling in the schoolyard below their eyes. Finally they managed to evacuate to the hill. All the people walked the mountain road to the front of Jounji Temple. It was already pitch dark. Students were led to the second floor of the temple’s office building, while small children were told by the chief priest to stay in the main hall with tatami mats. However, the children and staff from the daycare center did not enter into the temple at first. The daycare staff wrapped the children with blankets and plastic sheets and evacuated to the highest place in the cemetery. They entered the main hall at midnight. The next morning the principal realized that the tsunami had surged to just before the temple gate. The motto of tsunami tendenko (an old saying which means “Run from tsunami individually” or “protect your own life by yourself”) should not remain at the level of self-help. When the motto is put into practice, it is developed in conjunction with mutual support in many cases. Such mutual support is reported in a number of cases as “Disaster Utopia” (Solnit 2010) that emerges in a disaster situation. The behavior of Taro First Junior High School was one such phenomenon. However, at the same time, it is undoubtedly one of the achievements attained by educational exchange among various schools throughout the community.

What Makes Evacuation Activity Possible Structural Prevention and Evacuation Activities Tsunami prevention by structural objects has limitations. It is difficult to judge whether a tsunami will become larger than the assumed limits or not. Information initially provided about the scale of the tsunami this time was “over 3 meters.” Most of the coasts in the Iwate Sanriku region were protected by 5.5-meter-high tide walls, designed based on Japan’s experience with the 1960 Chile tsunami. A sense of safety from being protected by tide walls was one of the factors that discouraged residents from conducting evacuation activities. Also, high tide walls prevented residents liv-

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ing in areas adjacent to the tide walls from recognizing the change of the ocean surface in a timely manner. Since the power supply was interrupted after the first information had arrived, quite a few residents did not obtain the next information, “tsunami over ten meters.” Residents, not knowing accurately when the tsunami would strike, returned to lower zones to look for people or for belongings they left, and this multiplied the damage. Choosing to evacuate by car invited the worst consequences. Many of the roadways were along the coast. In order to avoid the tsunami—in other words, to reach a point of higher altitude—they needed to take narrow paths. Narrow paths cause traffic jams and slow down the movement. Since people assume that they are protected while in a car, they are unable to decide to get out of the car and walk for evacuation. It is impossible to get out of a car swallowed by a tsunami. The tsunami broke over most of the tide walls this time. The height of a tide wall is the most essential requirement. However, it is difficult to construct a tide wall with a height that is absolutely safe. We must be aware that structural prevention measures have limitations. Meanwhile, we are unable to assert that tide walls were unuseful just because they were overridden and destroyed. We should not underestimate the role of tsunami walls in delaying the development of and weakening the strength of the tsunami. If a number of evacuation routes have been created toward high ground in the community and the practice of evacuation by foot has taken effect among residents, the likelihood of reducing deaths in disasters will increase in the community. It is necessary to construct facilities such as evacuation routes. Moreover, multiple evacuation routes may be required from each village. Maintenance of evacuation routes and field exercises by residents of each village are indispensable. Practice of disaster prevention education and development of a culture of disaster prevention in the community are essential. The activities of learning about tsunamis, formulating various fail-safe countermeasures, and enacting such countermeasures directly lead to the creation of a community that can protect peoples’ lives.

Altitude and Evacuation Time In the Sanriku area of Iwate Prefecture, mountains lie quite near the seacoast. In such areas, establishment of evacuation routes to high ground behind the coast is an effective measure for reducing disasters. Figure 17.4 shows the correlations between the evacuation time and altitude. Let us imagine that a person who is on the coast moves landward upon receiving tsunami information and evacuates to high ground. If the person enters inside a tide wall on the coast, he or she is assumed to have attained the altitude equal to the height of the tide wall. Then, work out measures to gain further altitude. Now compare normal roads and evacuation roads. If he or she takes an evacuation route, the time required to gain the altitude of h1 is t1. However, by using a normal road, the time required to gain the altitude of h1 is t2. This means that the development of evacuation routes saves evacuation time by (t2 − t1). He or she is able to reach the higher altitude of h2 by entering evacu-

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altitude h2

passage for evacuation

security limit

B shelter

D

C

F1

F3 F2

C

highest point where previous landscape is observable

B

the height of the 1933 tsunami

A

the height of the 1960 tsunami

passage for evacuation

h1

A normal road

seawall

shelter lots from tsunami the altitude higher than tsunami

F1 - F3 D

t2 - t1 this time can be short if evacuation occurs

sea level

t1

t2

evacuation time

Figure 17.4. Correlation Between Evacuation Time and Altitude.

ation shelters. However, the last huge wave of the 2011 Sanriku tsunami inflicted catastrophic damage on shelters. In the case of the last wave, evacuees had to gain additional altitude higher than shelters, based on visual observation. In the race to escape a tsunami, evacuation routes are essential for evacuees. They need to continue evacuating, taking visual observations and tsunami histories into account. It is not until they arrive at Point D that they reach an altitude exceeding the highest altitude to which the tsunami reaches. Therefore, multiple small evacuation sites are necessary along the way. A warehouse should be built in each such evacuation site for storing emergency food, water, clothing for cold weather, and drugs. In the last tsunami, upcoming tidal waves rose up to an altitude of over forty meters. This figure serves as a guide for us. If, for example, residents climb up to small evacuation sites on every “Tsunami Anniversary,” conduct cleanup activities and memorial events, and resupply emergency food and water, it will be a way to make full use of evacuation routes. Let’s create a specific image of an evacuation route. It should be wide enough for a two-wheeled cart to pass, equipped with solar-powered lights that illuminate dark roads at night, and should have a gradual slope that enables elderly people to walk up to a point higher than the altitude that a tsunami might reach. Ascending to a high altitude as fast as possible will be an absolute condition for survival. More than one evacuation route from each village needs to be prepared. Especially, construction of evacuation routes leading to high ground adjacent to schools must immediately be started.

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Education for Protection of Life and Development of Disaster Prevention Culture Learn from History and Develop Familiarity with Local Conditions The easternmost part of Honshu, the main island of Japan, is Todogasaki Cape on Omoe Peninsula. Aneyoshi Village is located a little south of this cape. The village is at the highest altitude above sea level that the tsunami reached: 40.4 meters. However, there were no victims in the village. A stone monument stands at the end of the village (see photo 17.12). It says, “Do not build houses below this monument.” Aneyoshi Village suffered catastrophic damage from tsunamis in the Meiji and Showa eras. Only two of the villagers survived the tsunami in the Meiji era, and four in the Showa era—and only because those four were out of the village at the time. After the Sanriku tsunami in the Showa era, the whole village was relocated. Donations for victims were used in part to build the stone warning. Following the direction on the monument, no villager built a house below the monument. This resulted in no victims in the last tsunami. The location of this monument clearly shows the characteristics of tsunamis in this area. Conveying for the future what we learn about local characteristics of past tsunamis will directly lead to protection of lives. The most effective action against tsunamis is to stay at a position higher than the tsunami. The line to which a tsunami reaches sharply divides the degree of damage, as was the case this time. Above all, measures to relocate houses to a higher level are effective. In the process of recovery from the Sanriku tsunami in the Showa era, houses in twenty-three cities, towns, and villages and fifty-seven hamlets were col-

Photo 17.12. A stone monument in Aneyoshi Village reads, “Do not build houses below this monument.” (Photograph by Kenji Yamazaki)

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lectively relocated in Iwate Prefecture. In aggregate, 2,199 households were relocated to higher ground (Yamaguchi et al. 2011). However, not a few residents returned to their former houses due to insufficient infrastructure in the places where they had relocated, the difficulty in fishery production activities, nostalgia for former homes, and the small living space of the new houses. Also, in cases where a number of newcomers were settled in the place where the relocated families formerly lived and the new, higher settlements were inferior to the older, lower areas (in terms of convenience), an increasing number of residents returned to the original sites below the line to which tsunamis reached. Considering the relocation of settlements in connection with the planned use of land in the entire region based on the history of afflictions, we are required to improve infrastructure, vitalize industries, and ensure the safety of residents of new settlements.

Practice and Possibility of Tsunami Mitigation Education Iwate University has a general education course called “Disaster Prevention Learned from Realities of Tsunami” for third-year and fourth-year students. The goal of this course is to provide specific disaster prevention education through field training. In 2010, university students, along with junior high school students, watched and learned about tsunamis through tsunami Kamishibai (Japanese traditional picture-card show) by Yoshi Tabata (Tabata 2011) (see photo 7.1 in chapter 7). Moreover, they interviewed Ai Makino, who as a fifth grader lost all of her family members in the Showa-era tsunami. She was quoted in Sanriku Coast Great Tsunami by Akira Yoshimura (2004). In September 2011, students learned together with elementary schoolchildren through Kamishibai performed by Yoshi Tabata in a school gym in Taro Third Elementary School in September after the 2011 Sanriku tsunami (see photo 7.6 in chapter 7). Kamishibai are also useful for teaching university students about tsunamis. Students learn quite a few things by identifying with the characters of Kamishibai for elementary schoolchildren or through realization of something through Kamishibai. Moreover, students discover some details of history in Kamishibai in many cases. In what subject should education for tsunami prevention be addressed? It can be addressed in any subject. Let us think about some subjects in high schools. In geography and physics, approaches from plate tectonics or dynamics of tsunamis are possible. Salt damage is an issue that farmland is faced with in tsunami-afflicted areas. Considerations from a biological or soil chemical standpoint must draw students’ attention. If the history of disasters is studied, there are a lot of historical materials in Japanese and world history. The massive tsunami that struck Lisbon interrupted a world-conquering plan of Portugal. Focusing on Japan, students can learn about not only the tsunami caused by the Jogan earthquake (see the Jogan section in chapter 1), but also many other earthquakes that afflicted eastern Japan. The number of earthquakes would increase if the entire Japanese coast were covered. It is also recommended to have students discuss tsunamis as economic issues and to discuss challenges in reconstruction in political and economic fields. Tsunamis will make realistic coursework in afflicted areas. There must be significant discoveries

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when walking in the community with students with a hazard map prepared by the local government in hand. In a geography class, disasters can be seen as opportunities for community studies. In the Japanese class, studies on literature concerning disasters will enable us to trace back challenges we currently face. In Tsurezuregusa [Essays in Idleness], a well-known work of Japanese classical literature, references to a number of disasters are found. Although disaster science is not included in high school subjects, it is possible to set up this subject as part of the curriculum specific to each school. The possibility of development of disaster learning through collaboration between various subjects needs to be emphasized. A number of learning methods that address community-specific issues are being practiced, and in connection with such practices, new disaster prevention education through mutual collaboration is sought. Learning by making Tsunami Karuta (Japanese playing cards) and Tsunami Shibai (play) is practiced at elementary schools along the coasts of Iwate Prefecture. This learning involves interviews on tsunami experiences and discovering materials in the preparatory process. The process of “producing” Karuta and Shibai will further raise awareness of tsunamis. Discovery of stone monuments and interpretation of the meaning of what is written on the monuments will be effective for developing know-how and techniques regarding disaster prevention. Learning corresponding to each developmental stage of learners is essential for obtaining effective education results and making such results take effect among learners. As shown in figure 17.5, learning in spiral form is possible with regard to disaster prevention. By selecting appropriate teaching materials and utilizing actual and real issues or experiences in the community, not only one school but various schools are able to collaborate in the development of such learning. Disaster prevention learning is a field required at every stage of education: elementary school, junior high school, high school, college, and social education. It is applicable from cradle to grave. Disaster prevention education must be based on the philosophy of “think globally, act locally.” Three pillars link “globally” and “locally.” The first pillar is to identify potential dangers in the community through the discovery of materials and historical data that have been previously unknown, utilization of tsunami simulation images, nature observation, and field surveys. Such education should be provided according to the aforementioned stage of education or school level of learners. The second pillar is to review and promote “self-help,” “mutual support,” and “support measures by public bodies.” In this regard, confirmation of infrastructure, simulation through role playing, and image training concerning mutual support must be conducted. The third pillar is to establish stance and mental health counseling for making these efforts sustainable. Disaster prevention efforts should not only be directed to protection from disasters, but also more positively directed to the reconstruction of afflicted areas. Namely, such efforts, especially after the last tsunami, should entail energy and orientation toward reconstruction. Practical learning is developed through mutual involvement of these factors. Conduct of such education at each school level enables the expansion and deepening of learners’ perspectives and specific contributions to the community.

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disaster prevention

project

university

Think globally

high school subject 1

junior high school elementary school

2

3

Act locally 1: to identify potential dangers in the community 2: ethics for sustainable development 3: self-help, mutual support, support measures by public bodies

social education project

Figure 17.5. Tsunami Disaster Prevention Education.

Tsunami disaster mitigation education has not been established completely. Each time such learning is practiced, a new perspective or discovery must be brought about. Also, such learning must have a structure that is applicable to many different subjects and enables the development of basic learning ability. Any coast of Japan has the possibility of being struck by tsunamis. The instruction, “Earthquake! Get under the desk,” is not applicable to subsequent tsunami disasters. Preparation of a safety map by each community or school will lead to effective disaster prevention learning, creation of teaching materials, and suggestions. In the process of creating such materials, new historical facts of disasters should be discovered. The location or altitude of shrines or temples will suggest keys to reducing damage. Students will learn of dangers existing on the way to and from school and be able to learn specific ways to avoid such dangers. If each child or pupil makes a map of his or her school-commuting route based on a hazard map made by the community, and if parents walk the route with their child, it will be possible for them to learn techniques to avoid emergency situations from both viewpoints. Moreover, if, in the learning, children make presentations on their respective maps, and if problems discovered along multiple school-commuting routes are reconsidered comprehensively and three-dimensionally, a community map from the children’s viewpoint will be generated. This specific approach will lead to very effective “policy recommendations.” Only if people climb up to high ground will there be no human loss or injury caused by a tsunami. How to act as soon as possible, how to save time, and what to do for these purposes are challenges to be addressed in each community.

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Education for Life Protection Develops Basic Abilities The motto or old saying Inochi Tendenko is not an idea that means running off individually. Based on support measures by public bodies, including the establishment of infrastructure, self-help is embodied in conjunction with mutual support. Was the borotei barrier in Taro a wasteful investment? A tsunami advances as a perpendicular surface to the bottom of the sea. Even if the borotei barrier was unable to hold back the tsunami, it weakened the strength of the tsunami and delayed the rate of its progress. It gave escaping residents five to six minutes extra leeway. This time lag allowed daycare children and students to run from the tsunami. Through the experience of having rescued daycare children, the junior high students won pride and confidence in living in the Taro district. As mentioned above, in a class where students of Iwate University and students of Taro First Junior High School attended together, they jointly learned about tsunamis through Kamishibai (Japanese picture-card show) performed by Yoshi Tabata (see photo 7.1 in chapter 7). Partly because the university students sent school supplies to the junior high students after the last earthquake, the students of Iwate University were given an opportunity to attend the entrance ceremony at the junior high school. At the ceremony they listened to an impressive speech delivered by Jun Murai, the student council president: We should never forget about the tsunami or dwell on it. We need to accept the realities, and do anything each one of us can do with all our might. Such efforts will lead to the reconstruction of the town of Taro. The direction we should be heading in is indicated in the third verse of our school song: “Look up the borotei barrier. How many times in the past we have overcome those challenging tsunamis and reconstructed our hometowns. Take over great achievements of our ancestors.” Who will take over our ancestors’ achievements? It is us, the students of Taro Daiichi Junior High School. Never give up, or forget smiles at any time. Let’s work together to construct a stronger and warmer Taro First Junior High than ever. Hurrah, Taro! Hurrah, First Junior High! After his call, “Hurrah, Taro! Hurrah, First Junior High!,” all the current students responded, “Yeah!” Half of those students who attended were clothed in sweat suits. However, we strongly felt their pride and confidence in the reconstruction of the community. Their stance as such can literally be perceived as a zest for living. Their activities and experience in rescuing children of the daycare center as well as themselves illustrate how people can survive the tsunami. Disaster Utopia (Solnit 2011) suggests a new way of living and a new society. In a sense, community spirit was fostered through debris-removal activities. From an academic perspective, it is important to reconsider the future community by taking into consideration past tsunami experiences. Reconstruction of the devastated community will be completed only through severe struggle, which will continue for ten to twenty years. It will continue until the junior high students grow into their twenties or thirties, their time of greatest vigor.

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Practice of Disaster Prevention Learning Leads to Reconstruction The 2011 Sanriku tsunami has promoted practices of various disaster prevention learning. Although evacuation training is conducted at elementary schools, junior high schools, and high schools, at the university level such training is not conducted by the entire institution but by only some of the departments. Collaboration with communities or business entities in such training is also regarded as a major task for the future. Collaboration in disaster prevention learning between schools is also a theme to be considered. If disaster prevention learning is taken up as a study theme in various subjects, cross-curricular study will become feasible, and will, together with various other approaches, give shape to effective abilities to live. Disaster prevention learning accounts for a major part of learning to protect lives. Without practically addressing specific local issues, we will never achieve the fruits of disaster prevention practices. Each school should be able to work out its unique approach in such learning. After March 11, there is a tendency to address disaster prevention in conjunction with day-to-day living in areas stricken by the tsunami. This approach intends to contribute in fostering tsunami risk–sensitive culture with a view to ensuring safety and security through learning. Verification of the disaster experience with scientific thinking is also a major task for the future. Disasters expose local issues and contradictions at once. In quite a few cases, attempts are being made to increase residents’ awareness as citizens through their involvement in disaster-related regional, historical, social, political, and economic issues, and to conduct and review volunteer activities, support of victims, and disaster prevention activities. Conducting disaster prevention learning so as to overcome disasters also helps shape the future of reconstruction in the afflicted areas. It is essential to view disasters not as a momentary impact, but from a longterm perspective involving a time line from disaster prediction to reconstruction (Yamazaki 1996). Disasters develop with three stages: (a) prediction and warning, (b) disaster impact, and (c) restoration and reconstruction. If disaster prevention learning and practices of such learning are viewed in conjunction with each stage, the main challenges change according to the stage. At the prediction and warning stage, the focus is on how to reduce damage and protect lives. Potential dangers, weak points of the region, and methods for avoiding such weakness should be identified through practices and simulations. At the disaster impact stage, it is emphasized that self-help can be realized in conjunction with mutual support and public support measures. We are required to make quick judgments on how to survive and how to rescue others, and to act immediately. We may find that through helping others (mutual support) people learn how to save themselves (self-help). At the restoration and reconstruction stage, scenes that can be called “Disaster Utopia” (Solnit 2011) emerge through various efforts of self-help, mutual support, and public support measures, and such scenes indicate a new way of life or ideal future of society in quite a few cases. It is really estimable if the points discussed above develop into concrete measures that lead to movements to support vulnerable people and resolution of local issues. Involve-

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ment in the creation of a community that has resistance to disasters will become a major issue in disaster prevention education. However, there are noticeable trends, as described in the book The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism (Klein 2011), that are in the opposite direction from relief for the vulnerable in society— namely, the widening of social gaps. It is necessary to view disasters as a train of events, and to seek a way to overcome weakness at every stage. Development of disaster prevention learning is an indispensable factor for fostering disaster prevention culture in the region. Local disaster prevention culture has been created based on the natural characteristics of each region. Disaster prevention culture is generated through experiences of disasters and is further developed through learning. Through learning, (1) the characteristics and tendencies of the region can be identified; (2) residents’ perspectives can be broadened and further developed by comparing and examining cases in other districts; and (3) the respective community member roles of residents, from children to adults, according to their ability, and their tasks for conquering weaknesses of the community can be recognized as commonsense issues.

Conclusion The following three issues have been addressed as major themes in this study. First, how evacuation from the March 11 tsunami was conducted at schools. The schools that conducted collective evacuations successfully had no victims. Second, a tsunami disaster with no victims can be achieved, depending on how residents cope with the tsunami. Escape to ground higher than the highest point of the tsunami will allow communities to avoid damage from the disaster. The basics for ensuring safety and security are to relocate schools, houses, and towns to safe high ground and reconstruct them at that site. However, there are people who earn their living in occupations directly related to the ocean. There are people who are forced by circumstances to live close to coastal lines. In order not to produce any victims among such people, it is essential to establish evacuation routes for them to get to the highest possible ground level in a short time. It is considered effective to demonstrate evacuation route models in order to enable residents to get to a ground level higher than the highest point of tsunami waves. Third, our concern is directed to the importance of fostering and developing a disaster prevention culture for creating a safe and secure community. Safety and security are ensured in conjunction with self-help, mutual support, and public assistance. Sturdy disaster prevention facilities that are a part of public support measures are extremely important. However, it is an undeniable fact that too much reliance on facilities allowed the myth of safety to take on a life of its own, and produced many victims in consequence. The power of education is indispensable for fostering disaster prevention culture in each community. Disaster prevention education was demonstrated as a field applicable to all different school levels. Disaster prevention means not just evacuation training at elementary schools and junior high schools. Such learning can be developed spirally according to the developmental stage of

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learners: at elementary schools, junior high schools, high schools, colleges, and in social education. Tsunamis have local characteristics. The nature and extent of damage caused by a disaster on one side of a cape may be quite different from that on the other side. In other words, regional characteristics are distinctly reflected. Therefore, tsunami disaster prevention education is essentially linked with local studies. Distribution of manuals and preparation of teaching materials based on such manuals at the prefectural level will not lead to practical and effective education. Collaboration between various subjects is also indispensable. Disaster prevention can be taken up as a theme in any subject. There were no victims among children and students who were under the supervision of elementary schools and junior high schools in Iwate Prefecture. Dissemination of this fact will become a pillar in the development of disaster prevention culture in the region. Disaster prevention education is not only intended to avoid disasters but also to form a foundation for future communities through the realization of safe and secure lives in tsunami-afflicted areas.

References Haraguchi, Tuyoshgi, and Akira Iwamatsu. 2011. The Great East Japan Earthquake: Detailed Tsunami Map. Tokyo: Kokon Shoin, 1:167, 2:97. Hatakeyama, Shigeatsu. 2003. Reforestation of Fishermen: Forest Lovers of the Sea. Tokyo: Bungei Shunjyu. Imamura, F. 1949. “A Disaster Strikes When People Least Expect It.” In Earthquake Country. Tokyo: Bungei Shunjyu. Kawada, Yoashiaki. 2010. Tsunami Disasters. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 191. Klein, Naomi. 2011. The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism, vol. 2. Translated by Yukiko Ikushima and Yumiko Murakami. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 681. Kuroda, Jin. 2011. “I Feel Comforted, Talking with Patients.” In Saving Lives: The East Japan Great Earthquake and Doctors’ Struggle, edited by Takaru Kaido. Tokyo: Shincho-sha, 253. Solnit, Rebecca. 2011. Disaster Utopia. Translated by Sonoko Takatsuki. Tokyo: Aki Shobo, 440. Tabata, Yoshi. 2011. Tsunami Grandma’s Kamishibai. Supervised by Tomoko Yamazaki. Tokyo: Sankei Shimbun Shipponsha. 31. Taro-cho. 2005a. History of Tsunami Strikes in Taro-cho. Taro-cho: Iwate Municipality, 109. ———. 2005b. Tsunami Guide. Taro-cho: Iwate Municipality, 109. Yamaguchi, Yaichiro, Masaki Ishii, and Hidekazu Kawashima, eds. 2011. Tsunami and Village. Tokyo: Miyai Shoten, 257. Yamashita, Fumio. 2008. Tsunami and Disaster Prevention Detailed Report of Sanriku Tsunami. Tokyo: Kokon Shoin, 22. Yamazaki, Kenji. 1996. “Recovery from Flood Disasters Spontaneous Power in Communities.” Environmental Studies on Water Resources 9:45–46. Yoshimura, Akira. 2004. Sanriku kaigan daitsunami [Sanriku Coast Great Tsunami]. Tokyo: Bunshun Bunko.

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The Role of Volunteering in Post-Tsunami Town Recovery The Experience of All Hands in Ofunato City, Iwate James M. Hall and Moto Suzuki After the 2011 Sanriku tsunami destroyed approximately eight hundred kilometers of communities and search-and-rescue operations had ended, these communities had the enormous task of not only cleaning up the unfathomable tons of debris blanketing areas where cities and towns once stood, but also rebuilding these areas and the lives of those who lost their homes, livelihoods, friends, and families. The magnitude of the effort necessary to begin the long process of recovery prompted scores of people to offer their help, and mass media reported a flood of volunteer applicants soon after the tsunami. However, volunteering was not as simple as appearing at a town and offering help. To effectively contribute to a town’s recovery effort, volunteer organizations had to earn the trust of the local government and residents as well as find a niche for themselves. In this chapter, we will examine the role that All Hands, a US-based NGO and international volunteer organization, came to play in the initial stage of the tsunami recovery in Ofunato, a coastal city in Iwate Prefecture. To ascertain this role, we interviewed residents, city officials, All Hands officials, and volunteers. We also examined official city documents, media reports, blogs, and websites. The first author also volunteered at All Hands to better understand the organization, while the second author, who is from Ofunato, assisted All Hands in building relationships with local residents.

Introduction of Ofunato and Its Response to the Tsunami Ofunato is located in the southernmost part of Iwate. Its population was 40,738 as of October 10, 2010, with 14,814 households. Fishing and aquaculture are the city’s major industries, and its international port is the largest in the prefecture (Iwate Prefecture 2011). Ofunato is similar to other small fishing and aquaculture communities along the northeastern coast, in that most residents live near the coast and have invested in ships and growing facilities for oysters, scallops, and seaweed or seafood processing factories. Ofunato, the city of Rikuzentakata (one of the areas most damaged by the tsunami), and the town of Sumita comprise what is called the Kesen district, which has its own dialect. Ofunato has a history of earthquakes 364  

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and tsunamis. In the city’s recent history, the May 1960 Chile tsunami caused fifty-three deaths. In response, the city built an embankment to protect against tsunamis, which was completed in 1967 but destroyed in the March 2011 tsunami (Kamaishi Port Office 2012). The 2011 tsunami in Ofunato claimed the lives of approximately 452 people, including those listed as missing, and damaged 5,176 buildings, of which 2,736 were completely destroyed. At least 8,037 people were left with destroyed or uninhabitable homes and moved to evacuation centers. The city estimated the cost of the damage at over 105 trillion yen (Ofunato City 2011). In its recovery, Ofunato has distinguished between restoration (fukkyu) and revival (fukko), and it has emphasized the importance of the latter. Restoration is defined by the city as rebuilding houses and restoring infrastructure, industries, and residences. Revival, on the other hand, is using this rebuilding as an opportunity to reconceive local infrastructure and industry to make a better future for the city. There are three stages to Ofunato’s recovery (Ofunato City 2011). The first stage, from 2011 to 2013, was the restoration, as described above, which laid the groundwork for revival. The second stage, from 2014 to 2016, will mark the beginning of the revival for the city and its residents, and in the third stage, from 2017 to 2020, development of the innovations begun in the second stage will continue. As of this writing, Ofunato is six months into its restoration. Although the scope of the city’s efforts is too large to describe here, among the actions the city has taken for restoration to date are the following: establishing sixty evacuation centers for those left homeless (which were closed on August 28, 2011), arranging for the construction of temporary housing for evacuees, overseeing the removal of 80 percent of the debris, houses, cars, and boats scattered by the tsunami, restoring infrastructure, and arranging for those with damaged or destroyed homes to receive monetary assistance for moving and rebuilding (Ofunato City 2011). A local official acknowledged that it was difficult for the government to respond adequately to the distinct needs of each resident affected by the tsunami, and indicated that this is where volunteer organizations can play a role.

Volunteer Organization Activities in Tsunami-Damaged Towns and Cities Multiple NGOs have been active in helping tsunami-affected towns. For example, the Japan-based NGO Japan Platform listed the following kinds of tsunami relief projects that they have funded (Japan Platform 2011): needs analysis; supporting schools by providing school supplies, dispatching tutors, etc.; medical and public hygienic support; support for local recovery by cleaning and removing debris, coordinating volunteers, managing evacuation centers, supporting the disabled and elderly, and counseling; distributing food and necessary commodities; and IT support. In addition to NGO support, each town has a volunteer center administered by their local department of welfare (Shakai Fukushi Kyogikai). Much of the work of

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the volunteer centers involves support for local recovery and distribution of food. The Special Task Force Responding to the 2011 Sanriku tsunami (Higashinihon daishinsai taisakuhonbu) (Ofunato 2011, 6) writes that as of September 11, 2011, the volunteer centers have removed mud and debris, cleaned and retrieved people’s possessions, cleaned canals, cleaned the coast, provided food for evacuation centers, and undertaken other services on an as-needed basis. (For example, the Ofunato Volunteer Center reported that it was walking an elderly woman’s dog daily.) The Reconstruction Headquarters says that the primary role of volunteer centers is to perceive local needs and respond promptly to those needs that local governments find difficult to address.

All Hands and Its Work in Post-Tsunami Ofunato All Hands started in 2005 when its founder, David Campbell, went to Thailand after the 2004 South East Asia Tsunami. Finding like-minded volunteers who wanted to plug into communities and provide support outside of the scope of NGOs present on the ground, he decided to organize his own group. The purpose of this group was to connect those who wanted to help with those who needed it. This group later evolved into Hands On Disaster Response, with a subsequent name change to All Hands Volunteers in 2010. The organization has since been active in rebuilding projects in such places as Biloxi, Mississippi, after Hurricane Katrina and Haiti after the 2010 earthquake. As of September 2011, it had been involved in fourteen projects in five years, receiving help from over six thousand volunteers from over forty countries and assisting over thirty thousand families (Esmat 2011b). All Hands started their operations in Ofunato within a week of the tsunami, with an assessment team on the ground in the affected area. On April 12, 2011, Project Tohoku officially launched volunteer-based assistance to communities in Ofunato. As of September 21, it has had a total of 1,022 volunteers from thirty-one countries who have contributed sixty-one thousand hours of labor. The volunteer-based project was scheduled to end on November 12, with focused economic and community development programs continuing through March 2012. Although they were based in Ofunato, they also assisted neighboring municipalities, such as Rikuzentakata. Figure 18.1 summarizes of the work they had completed as of September 23, 2011 (All Hands 2011). Work completed outside of Ofunato is noted.

All Hands’ Arrival in Ofunato In a brief conversation, Kimiaki Toda, mayor of Ofunato, told the authors it was “unbelievable” that so many international and Japanese volunteers from All Hands had come to help Ofunato (Toda 2011). When All Hands first arrived there, however, most residents were not enthusiastic about accepting help from them. Three days after the earthquake, David Campbell and the operations director of All Hands, Mark Young, arrived in Tokyo and through contacts via the All Hands Volunteers board of directors were able to make a connection with Mayor Toda as well as the mayor of Rikuzentakata. Mayor Toda had spent more than half his life

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All Hands Volunteer Activities Removing Debris and Salvaging Possessions Completed work: 42 family homes and businesses, 2 schools (Rikuzentakata), 2 Shinto shrines (1 in Yamada), 20 rice paddies (Rikuzentakata), 1 cemetery (Rikuzentakata) Gutting Homes Completed work: 124 family homes and businesses Removing Mud and Debris from Canals Completed work: 17 km of drainage canals and gutters Home Rehabilitation Description: Pilot partnership with Habitat for Humanity Japan providing financial support for building materials and labor for repairs to damaged homes. Volunteer labor is contributed where appropriate Completed work: 30 homes with 10 more scheduled Targeted Food Distribution Completed work: Over 82,000 items distributed, including food, masks, and hot water bottles (Rikuzentakata, Ofunato, and Yamada) Photo Rescue Description: Collecting and cleaning thousands of damaged photos with unidentified owners. Retouching service provided to restore water damaged images via a network of 450 professional re-touchers in more than 25 countries worldwide. Retouched photos are printed and returned to owners Completed work: 100,000 photos cleaned; 290 photos retouched for 83 families (Ofunato, Rikuzentakata, and Yamada) Other Jobs • Sorted and cleared 15 tons of rotting fish and debris from a fish cannery • Rehabilitated a local park damaged by the tsunami • Painted public mural in partnership with Japanese artist, Ken Miyakazi • Assisted in the organization of the Tanabata summer festival in Ofunato • Visits to six local schools for cultural/language exchange, playtime, and sports • Cleaning and sorting thousands of salvaged possessions for Rikuzentakata volunteer center • Running bi-weekly shuttle service for temporary home residents to go shopping

Figure 18.1. All Hands Volunteer Activities.

living abroad working in construction and was quoted by the Japan Times (Littler 2011) on the prospect of having international relief workers in Ofunato, saying, “We are all people, we can work together.” According to Chris Turner, the Project Tohoku director, All Hands chose to work in Ofunato because, “The need was there, the city welcomed our offer of assistance, the work was appropriate for volunteers, and the distance of Ofunato from Tokyo meant it was less likely to be inundated with volunteer support” (Turner 2011). On April 1, 2011, All Hands had a small staff in Ofunato; the scale of the cleanup necessary to start rebuilding was tremendous, but the staff reported that few people were interested in their help. According to Kiyoshi Fuchigami, an Ofunato City

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councilor and a key supporter of All Hands, many people of Ofunato in general do not want to accept help from people they do not know (Fuchigami 2011). Thus, help not only from non-Japanese, but also from people from outside Iwate Prefecture, is likely to be looked upon with skepticism. In the case of non-Japanese, though, there is an added language and cultural barrier that Mr. Fuchigami and other All Hands staff interviewed believed made Ofunato residents more reluctant. Also, at around this time there were media reports of criminal activity by outside groups in the disaster areas. Those reports might have made All Hands seem even more unappealing (for example, see MSN Sankei News 2011).

All Hands and Ofunato Develop an Effective Partnership Through interviews with town officials, Ofunato residents, and All Hands volunteers as well as from our own experience in the field, we have concluded that the following elements in All Hands’ effort to help Ofunato contributed to the development of an effective partnership between the city and the organization: establishing relationships and accepting advice from local officials, winning over people with the quality of their work, understanding the needs of the community and starting appropriate projects, and acting as members of the community.

Establishing Relationships and Accepting Advice from Local Officials When All Hands first started its operation in Ofunato, the primary service they offered to residents was to help them remove mud and debris as well as salvage valuable and usable possessions from their tsunami-damaged houses and businesses. To find people who needed help, All Hands staff went to evacuation centers and knocked on residents’ doors to tell Ofunato residents the services they offered, but they faced constant hesitation. Mr. Turner commented that at this point he was surprised by how difficult it was to get people to accept their help. In the beginning of April, Mr. Fuchigami received a phone call from a government official asking him to meet with All Hands staff and to consider helping them. Mr. Fuchigami met with All Hands the next day and essentially wished them well. A week after the initial meeting with Mr. Fuchigami, All Hands had not been able to make progress in finding people to help and Mr. Fuchigami again received a phone call imploring him to assist All Hands. This time Mr. Fuchigami gathered the community center leaders from ten neighborhoods in Ofunato and introduced All Hands to them, thinking that if neighborhood leaders approved of All Hands, the residents would be more receptive to its services. Mr. Fuchigami said that he also had neighborhood leaders accompany All Hands when they volunteered so they could see their work. Initially, staff of All Hands proposed to Mr. Fuchigami that they put an advertisement in the newspaper, but he said that the best way to gain the people’s trust was through their work and then word of mouth. All Hands took the advice of the city and aimed to work in houses quietly, respectfully, cleanly, and carefully to meet local standards. It was hoped that word of mouth of the quality of the work they offered would increase the number of people asking for their services. In this

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way, collaboration with local officials helped All Hands choose a strategy to gain the trust of Ofunato residents, which eventually proved to be effective.

Winning Over People with Word of Mouth about the Quality of Its Work All Hands received its first favorable notice when it was asked to clean the house of the owner of an advertising company, Junichi Suzuki. Their job was to remove mud from the house and carry all the furnishings outside. They were even asked to search for the mortuary tablets of deceased relatives. According to Mr. Fuchigami, All Hands volunteers did exactly what they were asked to do. Mr. Suzuki invited local media to cover All Hands’ work and was also interviewed about their work on a local radio station. The Iwate Nippo newspaper (2011) reported that Mr. Suzuki said, “I made no progress cleaning this house by myself but now there is hope,” and that he “expressed his gratitude to this international support.” Although it did not receive any media attention, All Hands staff and Mr. Fuchigami also mentioned one other job as being instrumental to All Hands gaining acceptance: their cleaning of a fish cannery in the beginning of June. The cannery was holding fifteen tons of frozen fish before the tsunami came and damaged it. For several months, fish and oil were left to fester inside the cannery, serving as a breeding ground for vast swarms of flies. All Hands offered to clean the factory. The philosophy behind doing jobs like this, according to Jiella Esmat, associate executive director of All Hands, is that there is a need for assistance, and helping businesses get back on their feet brings jobs back to the community and helps the local economy start moving again. The job of All Hands volunteers (see photo 18.1) was to separate the rotten fish from the debris so the fish could be thrown into the sea and the debris could be properly disposed of. Ms. Esmat said, “Cleaning the fish cannery helped us earn the respect and acceptance of the community. The job was dirty, smelly, and it was difficult to find people to do it. Within days of completion, the smell around town and the flies began to die away. The community began to understand that we were here to work and wanted to help” (Esmat 2011a).

Photo 18.1. An All Hands volunteer working on removing debris from the fish cannery. (Photograph courtesy of All Hands Volunteers)

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Photo 18.2. All Hands volunteers cleaning a drainage canal along a major road. (Photograph courtesy of All Hands Volunteers)

Another project that enhanced the reputation of All Hands volunteers was cleaning drainage canals along the roads. Mr. Turner explains that residents began to approach All Hands about cleaning the canals outside their homes. They were full of mud and debris, were starting to smell, and were causing roads to flood when it rained. All Hands went to the city hall to offer their assistance and an agreement was reached. Soon, clearing canals became one of their most frequent jobs. A resident of Ofunato we interviewed had the following to say about the canal cleaning: “I saw the volunteers working outside my house every day clearing the canals; they worked hard but also looked like they were enjoying themselves. Because most people were busy with their own homes, they could not clear the canals, so what they did was very helpful. Seeing them work like that inspired me to work hard” (Hirayama 2011). Furthermore, Mr. Fuchigami noted that All Hands volunteers worked along busy roads on Sundays and, thus, many residents of Ofunato would drive past them, and this served to give the group a lot of exposure. One Ofunato visitor wrote why a friend of his had decided to ask All Hands to dismantle the first floor of his tsunamidamaged house: “At first, as someone from the Kessen District, he felt too guilty to ask someone else to clear out his house . . . but when he saw All Hands members working in the boiling hot weather to clear the road drainage ditches with a smile on their face he thought, ‘maybe I can ask them!’” (Harada 2011).

Understanding the Needs of the People and Starting Appropriate Projects The fish cannery and canal cleaning are not only examples of quality of work but also of the creation of opportunities for new projects by understanding the needs of the people. Two other projects serve as examples of understanding local needs and addressing them: the Home Rehabilitation Program and the Photo Rescue Program. The Home Rehabilitation Program started with Habitat for Humanity Japan and was designed to assist homeowners in rebuilding their tsunami-damaged houses. It serves as an example of a program finding a way to help local residents while respecting their preferences. Mr. Fuchigami said that most people in Ofunato consider their

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Photo 18.3. All Hands volunteers taking a break. (Photograph courtesy of All Hands Volunteers)

land and home to be their most precious possessions, and they tend to have a longterm working relationship with their carpenter before and after the house is built. Thus, they were not likely to permit All Hands and Habitat for Humanity volunteers to repair their houses. In response, the Home Rehabilitation Program was conceived to provide financial aid grants for homeowners to pay for the materials required for reconstruction of their houses and the supply of local carpentry services. All Hands would clear, gut, and sanitize the house in preparation for the carpenters to rehabilitate the homes. It would also subsidize the cost of materials and carpentry fees. As noted in figure 18.1, approximately forty homes have participated in this program (All Hands 2011). The Photo Rescue Program was conceived by Becci Manson, who has almost twenty years of experience retouching photos for advertising and print magazines in the fashion industry. Crews removing debris in the tsunami-affected areas had retrieved photographs they found and passed them to each municipality’s volunteer center. People who lost their homes were able to go to the volunteer center to search for and claim their pictures. Ms. Manson reports that when she was cleaning an evacuation center bathing area, she saw the residents washing thousands of photos that had been found and handed to them. She offered to help, and the residents expressed their gratitude for the attention and care she gave in their cleaning (see

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Photo 18.4. Working with damaged photographs in the All Hands Photo Rescue Program. (Photograph courtesy of All Hands Volunteers)

photo 18.4). After the photos were cleaned, Ms. Mason realized that a lot of the most damaged ones could be repaired using Photoshop. She soon recruited a network of 450 photo retouching professionals via email and social networks to help with photo restoration. The number of photos cleaned and families helped (noted in figure 18.1) attests that this program addresses a local need.

Becoming Members of the Community All Hands has made contributions to Ofunato outside of the worksites. The most frequently discussed example of All Hands members reaching out to the community is its help in organizing the Tanabata festival on August 6 and 7. The Tabanaba is a summer festival held throughout Japan between July and August. This was the first festival in Ofunato after the tsunami. Residents wavered on whether or not to hold the festival, but All Hands’ manpower and monetary donation was instrumental in making it a reality. Preparations for the festival started a month beforehand, and every day after work All Hands members would assist. Volunteers divided themselves into eight groups, one group for each community block in Sakari machi, the neighborhood where their first base was located. On the festival days, some volunteers wore each community’s happi, a jacket for festivals, and pulled their community’s Dashi float; some played drums, and one volunteer, who was a flute player, even learned

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Photo 18.5. All Hands volunteers and Ofunato residents in the Tanabata Festival. (Photograph courtesy of All Hands Volunteers)

and played the Japanese bamboo flute (see photo 18.5). We were told that this was when All Hands members became truly accepted as locals. Jinya Sasaki, a community leader, said, “We cannot appreciate their help enough. Many locals wish they could come back next year” (Sasaki 2011).

Volunteering for All Hands We will conclude this chapter with the first author’s narrative of his experience volunteering with All Hands for a total of two working days between September 18 and 21, 2011. We hope that this narrative will give the reader a more intimate understanding of the operations of All Hands, characteristics of the volunteering experience, and interaction between Ofunato residents and volunteers.

Arriving at All Hands I arrive at the All Hands’ “first base” in Ofunato a little before 5 p.m. on September 18. All Hands has two bases where the volunteers reside. The first base is a converted warehouse in the central Ofunato neighborhood of Sakari, and the second is located at a public facility catering to people with disabilities about three kilometers from the center of the city. Each facility can hold approximately fifty volunteers. As I arrive, two buses packed with volunteers have just parked outside the base and the passengers pour out of the bus, putting away tools and running into the base for dinner. Volunteers are supplied with three meals a day, and the accommodations are free. During dinner, the daily meeting begins. In this meeting, new volunteers introduce themselves, departing volunteers say goodbye, team leaders report on the

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Photo 18.6. The meeting board where All Hands volunteers sign up for the next day’s jobs. (Photograph courtesy of All Hands Volunteers)

progress their group made on a particular job, the field coordinator introduces the next day’s jobs, and volunteers sign up for the new jobs. Each job has a team leader who has the appropriate skills and know-how for the job, and a “J-Heart,” or someone to serve as a translator. The next day’s jobs are cleaning and repairing a park, cleaning an oil spill, helping to harvest rice fields, gutting two tsunami-damaged houses, repairing turned over headstones in a cemetery in Rikuzentakata, weeding the property of a homeowner, salvaging valuable possessions from a tsunami-damaged house, washing and restoring photos, and delivering food to residents in temporary housing. After the meeting is finished, everyone rushes to the white board at the front of the room to sign up for a job (see photo 18.6). I had wanted to do the oil cleanup, but by the time I make it to the whiteboard that job is gone, so I sign up for gutting Sato san’s (Ms. Sato’s) house. (Her name is a pseudonym.)

First Working Day By 8:15 a.m. we are leaving the first base to our respective sites. I am on a crew of six, and our team leader is Smitty. Smitty, a twenty-seven-year-old American, has some previous experience working in construction in the United States. He also has three months of volunteer experience in Haiti after the 2010 earthquake. He was named a team leader for the work on Sato san’s house after he had demonstrated his skills and competence in another gutting project. He says that he likes working at houses because he can get to know the owner. It also gives him satisfaction when owners express their gratitude and approval of his work.

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Although I am not a J-Heart, when we arrive I am asked to become one so the original J-Heart can focus on her work. Since I have no experience in gutting houses, I am happy to make a contribution doing something I know I can do. Sato san is widowed and in her sixties; she has two grown sons who live outside of Ofunato. The tsunami went almost to the ceiling of the first f loor of her house. She says that when she initially felt the earthquake, she could sense that it was unusually strong and immediately went to higher ground. After the tsunami, her neighbors helped her salvage possessions that were not destroyed, and she has been living on the second f loor of her house since March 14. Although the city has supplied a temporary house for her, she prefers to stay home as much as possible. At first, Sato san said she was hesitant to accept the help of volunteers. In April, someone from the local volunteer center visited her and convincingly argued that it was alright to accept their help. With her sons living far away and neighbors busy with their own houses, Sato san could not rely on help from friends and family. The volunteer center cleared mud and major debris from her house as well as disinfected it. She reports that in the beginning of August, a Japanese member of All Hands had approached her about having them perform the gutting of the first floor so the carpenters could start their work. She said that she consulted with the Ofunato Volunteer Center and asked them if All Hands was reliable. The center said they thought All Hands would do a good job. Her carpenter would tell me later, “Our job is to build houses, not gut them. You [All Hands volunteers] are helping us out by doing this work.” Smitty confirms with Sato san the work we will do for that day. We will be removing the tile wall of the kitchen, taking out the walls, floor, and tub of her bathroom, and removing the drywall in one of her hallways. Sato san repeats many times that she wants us to save the kitchen wall tiles because she would like to reuse them. The carpenter is also aware that she wants the tiles saved. Smitty assigns me to work on removing the drywall with a Kyoto University Graduate School student from Peru. We start work at about 8:50 a.m. By about 10:15, Sato san has prepared tea and bean paste bread. She asks me to tell everyone to take a break, and we drink, eat, and talk. Sato san reacts with surprise when she learns that one of our group’s members went swimming in the ocean in Rikuzentakata, given that it was one of the cities ravaged by the tsunami. When the swimmer says that he loves to swim no matter where, Sato san recounts how a lot of people survived the tsunami because they were good swimmers, including her dog. Unfortunately, though, her dog died two months after the tsunami. We talk to Sato san for twenty minutes and then return to work. Lunch is delivered to us a little past noon. Not only do we have our bento box lunches to eat, but Sato san has also prepared rice and curry for us. She says, “I want you to eat a lot and work a lot.” Initially, the conversation is lighthearted and I struggle to translate Smitty’s jokes. Eventually the conversation becomes more serious and she asks us what we think about the Japanese government and the fact that

376   James M. Hall and Moto Suzuki

the prime minister changes so frequently. She says that politicians only think of themselves and not the people. One member of our party says that this is perhaps almost universal. Sato san says that at least we all live in a democracy and not a dictatorship. At around 3 p.m., Sato san has prepared apples for us. She says, “I cannot pay you, so the only thing I can do is give you food!” Unfortunately, if we do not finish our work by the end of the day we will not be able to turn on her water, so I tell her that we will eat when we have finished our work. At the end of the day, Smitty tells Sato san exactly what we have done and what we will do tomorrow: we will finish dismantling the bathroom, take out the kitchen and bathroom floor, and take out another wall. Smitty says we will also take out the toilet, but Sato san asks us not to remove it. The All Hands bus comes at 4:15; we quickly eat some apples and Sato san gives me four bananas to give to the other team members. After picking up other teams, we are back at the base. We have our daily meeting and I decide to work at Sato san’s house one more day.

Second Working Day Tonight a typhoon will be coming and the forecast says rain all day. Nevertheless, most of the projects have not been canceled and many volunteers will be working in the rain. I am one of the lucky ones because I will be working mostly indoors. We arrive at Sato san’s house at 8:30 a.m. and immediately get to work. This time I am the J-Heart from the beginning and it feels good to see her again. Sato san says she wants us to save her bathtub. She would like to use it to collect rainwater. Smitty says he will try his best. We confirm the day’s work; I am tearing down walls again, but this time with a Japanese university student. We start, but Smitty asks us not to make such a mess; we did not adequately cover one area of a floor that Sato san wants to save. This morning, Sato san’s carpenter comes and Smitty asks him to check our work. He says that our job is perfect. The carpenter tells me that after the house is gutted, Sato san wants the wooden frame washed with a high-pressure washer. He asks if All Hands can do this. Smitty says that he will talk with his superiors. The carpenter adds that he wants to know “for his reference,” which could mean that he wants to know for other jobs. At 10:15 we have a snack, onigiri, or rice balls. Sato san apologizes profusely for the onigiri being crumbly, but I assure her it does not affect the taste. She later told me that one of the difficult things about having All Hands volunteers is that she does not know what they like to eat. She said, “They are always polite and tell me that everything is good!” Later, during lunch, the conversation is lighthearted. Smitty and Sato san continue the previous day’s discussion about courting Japanese women, and this time she seems to understand his jokes better. Sato san told me that one of the things she enjoys most about having volunteers is eating together and communicating. She says that she had never really had the opportunity to speak to non-Japanese people before, and she is thankful that so many people have come from different countries and prefectures within Japan to help.

The Role of Volunteering in Post-Tsunami Town Recovery   377  

Analysis of the Narrative From this narrative we can understand the operations of All Hands; work is intended to be done cleanly and communication with the client should be strong. The client is always right, and their wishes are always respected. The team leader should be sufficiently knowledgeable to direct the other volunteers, who might not have experience doing the particular kind of work, and he or she will usually see a project through until the end. Thus, one individual is responsible for ensuring that a project is completed satisfactorily. This narrative also typifies an important part of the volunteering experience: interaction between volunteers and clients. As is evident from the narrative, for Sato san not only was the work of the volunteers important, but also communication with them. Eating with us gave Sato san the opportunity to talk about her family, her thoughts, and her experience with the tsunami. Eating with Sato san and others like her gave the volunteers the opportunity to learn about the people and region they were trying to help. As is apparent from Smitty’s comments, getting to know the client is one of the perks of volunteering.

Conclusion An important role of volunteer organizations in tsunami-damaged towns is perceiving local needs that governments cannot address and then responding promptly to those needs. Given the extent of the damage, immediate help from volunteer organizations was needed. However, for an organization from outside a community to enter that community and work effectively, it must earn a good reputation among the people. All Hands apparently was able to do this through its relationship with local officials, the quality of its work, its ability to grasp and respond quickly to local needs, and its willingness to become a member of the community. Finally, the narrative of the first author’s experience reveals the nature of a rewarding volunteer experience: hard but enjoyable and high-quality work with chances to form meaningful relationships with residents.

References All Hands. 2011. Project Tohoku Report August–23 Sept 2011. Ofunato: All Hands. All Hands Document obtained on September 26, 2011. Esmat, Jiella, Associate Executive Director of All Hands. 2011a. Personal interview with the authors. September 20. ———. 2011b. Personal communication with the authors. September 28. Fuchigami, Kiyoshi, Ofunato City Councilor. 2011. Personal interview with the authors. September 20. Harada, M. 2011. “Getsuyoubi no yoru 7 ji pm dorama shitei de aimashou” [See You at Drama City on Monday at 7 p.m.]. Harada Mido no Burogu [Mido Harada’s Blog]. http://ameblo. jp/haradamido/entry-11022331487.html. Accessed September 23, 2011. Headquarters to the Response of the Great East Japan Earthquake. 2011. “Fukyu no genjou to shu na kadai he no torikumi” [The Status of Recovery and Efforts to Resolve the

378   James M. Hall and Moto Suzuki Main Issues]. September 11. http://www.reconstruction.go.jp/topics/02_Otorikumi.pdf. Accessed September 20, 2011. Hirayama, Kenichi, Resident of Ofunato City. 2011. Personal interview with the authors. September 20. Iwate Nippou. 2011. “Kokkyo wo koe shien no te—kaigai dantai ga garekitekkyo” [A Helping Hand from Over the Border—An International Organization Is Removing Debris]. April 13. http://www.iwate-np.co.jp/hisaichi/h201104/h1104132.html. Accessed September 21, 2011. Iwate Prefecture. 2012. “Iwate ken kigyo ricchi gaido” [Iwate Prefecture Corporate Location Guide]. http://www.pref.iwate.jp/~ritti/a04network.html. Accessed February 20, 2012. Japan Platform. 2011. “Higashi nihon daishinsai hisaisha shien no shinpo hokoku” [A Report on the Progress of Support for Victims of the Great East Japan Earthquake]. September 9. http://www.japanplatform.org/top.html. Accessed September 24, 2011. Kamaishi Port Office. 2012. “Ofunato ko ayumi/enkaku” [History and Developments of the Ofunato Port]. http://www.pa.thr.mlit.go.jp/kamaishi/port/ofunato-port/ofunato-02. html. Accessed February 20, 2012. Littler, J. 2011. “All Hands Brings All Sorts to Iwate Recovery.” Japan Times, September 20. http://www.japantimes.co.jp/community/2011/09/20/issues/all-hands-brings-all-sorts-toiwate-to-aid-local-recovery/#.VoN-kjY5jDc. Accessed September 25, 2011. Mason, Becci, All Hands Photo Rescue Director. 2011. Personal interview with the authors. September 20. MSN Sankei News. 2011. “Boranteia shoshi ‘shinsai dorobo’ oko” [Calling Themselves Volunteers, “Disaster Robbers” Are Running Rampant—“Have Japanese Lost Their Pride?”]. March 23. http://www.asyura2.com/09/jisin16/msg/693.html. Ofunato City. 2011. Ofunato shi fukko keikaku kosshi [Overview of Ofunato’s Recovery Plan]. Ofunato, Japan: Ofinato City. City document obtained by the authors on September 20, 2011. Sasaki, Jinya, Former Elementary School Principal and Community Leader. 2011. Personal interview with the authors. August 8. Toda, Kimiaki, Mayor of Ofunato City. 2011. Personal interview with the authors. September 20. Turner, Chris, All Hands Project Tohoku Director. 2011. Personal interview with the authors. September 21.

19

Distribution of Non-Japanese Residents and Support Activities for Them in the 2011 Earthquake and Tsunami Disaster–Stricken Areas Kohei Okamoto and Kumi Sato At the time of the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake in 1995, non-Japanese people who did not understand the disaster information issued in Japanese were placed in a difficult situation. Since then, progress has been made in the measures to support non-Japanese speakers in times of disaster, some of which were utilized during the Sanriku tsunami in 2011, in the Tohoku region, in the northeastern part of Japan. However, a new issue emerged. The support measures for non-Japanese people prepared after the 1995 earthquake were presumed to be utilized in foreigner-concentrated areas. Those measures turned out to be less effective than expected in the case of the 2011 earthquake due to the fact that non-Japanese people in the Tohoku region were sparsely scattered. In this chapter the authors explain the support activities offered to non-Japanese residents in the disaster-affected areas at the time of the 2011 earthquake and discuss the ways of supporting non-Japanese people.

Increasing Non-Japanese Population in Japan Japan has been popularly regarded as an ethnically homogeneous nation. However, Japan has received people from abroad since it opened its doors to the world in the latter part of the nineteenth century. About a century ago, Chinese immigrants, or “foreign workers,” began forming their own communities in Japan’s major port cities, such as Yokohama and Kobe. Due to Imperial Japan’s colonization of Korea from 1910, there was frequent migration between Japan and the Korean peninsula, which resulted in around 2 million Koreans living in Japan in 1945, at the end of World War II (Nishinarita 1997). After World War II, over half a million Koreans and large numbers of Taiwanese and mainland Chinese (all from former Japanese colonies) remained in Japan. Until the 1980s, the vast majority of foreign residents in Japan were those Korean and Chinese people and their descendants. Japan had long adopted a strict immigration policy against accepting unskilled laborers from abroad. However, due to the forces of globalization and a domestic environment dominated by an ageing population 379  

380   Kohei Okamoto and Kumi Sato

and low birthrate, the government revised the Immigration Control Act in 1990 to meet the labor shortage, permitting the issuance of visas to foreign nationals of Japanese ancestry. Starting from the end of the nineteenth century, Japan sent quite a number of her nationals abroad. Initially they went to Hawaii and North America, but after 1924, when the United States prohibited the entry of Japanese people, the main destination changed to South America. In 1973 the emigration policy was abolished, but by then there were significant populations of Japanese in Brazil and Peru, where they were primarily engaged in agriculture. Estimates of current populations of nikkei-jin (descendants of Japanese migrants) are 1.4 million in Brazil, 1 million in the United States, 150,000 in the Philippines, and 80,000 in Peru (in 2004, estimated by the Association of Nikkei and Japanese Abroad, http://www.jadesas.or.jp). In accordance with the amendment of the Immigration Control Act in 1990, a special visa class was created for nikkei-jin, leading to the rapid rise in the number of nikkei-jin and their spouses and children coming to live and work in Japan, primarily in the manufacturing sector. They and those other than nikkei-jin who came to Japan to work in the late twentieth century are called “newcomers,” in contrast with “old-comers,” who came to Japan before the end of World War II (and their descendants). Since the 1990s, the number of Chinese people who come to Japan as students or trainees has increased. On the other hand, the number of “old-comer” Korean people who have been residing in Japan since before World War II has been decreasing due to their aging population in Japanese society (see figure 19.1). In 2008, the number of foreign residents in Japan hit a record high of 2.22 million according to the Ministry of Justice’s Immigration Bureau. Foreign residents constituted 1.7 percent of Japan’s total population. The top five nationalities of foreign residents in Japan at present are Chinese, Korean, Brazilian, Filipino, and Peruvian. Most of the Koreans and a percentage of Chinese are the so-called old-comers who have resided in Japan for generations, with the balance being foreign residents, the so-called newcomers, who increased rapidly after the late 1980s. Due to the global recession resulting from the financial crisis at the end of 2008 (Lehman’s fall), many nikkei-jin (foreigners of Japanese ancestry) who worked in the subcontracting factories in the automobile industry lost their jobs, and some of them returned to their South American countries. The 2011 Sanriku earthquake and tsunami occurred in this economic situation.

Lessons Learned from the 1995 Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake The Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake occurred on January 17, 1995, in the southern part of Hyogo Prefecture, which lies in the south-central region of Japan’s main island of Honshu. More than sixty-four hundred people died, including approximately two hundred non-Japanese people in and around Kobe City. On that occasion, nonJapanese people who did not understand the Japanese language found it difficult to get relevant information. The serious impact of the language barrier was felt after the quake occurred. Those who did not understand the information issued in Japanese

Distribution of Non-Japanese Residents and Support Activities for Them   381  

2.5

Number (millions)

2.0

Others American Filipino

1.5

Peruvian Brazilian

1.0 Chinese

0.5 Korean

20 2008 11

02 20

96

19

90 19

84

19

78 19

72

19

66 19

60 19

54

19

19

48

0 Year Figure 19.1. Foreign Population in Japan, 1948–2011.

did not know about evacuation sites, information about the aftershocks, when and where to get food or water, and so on. Japanese society learned several lessons about multiculturalism from the 1995 earthquake. The first is the idea of tabunka-kyosei, or multicultural coexistence. Japanese people learned that their society is no longer homogeneous, but rather one where people from various backgrounds live together as neighbors, and that they need to be able to receive information on a day-to-day basis and especially during emergencies. The term tabunka literally means multi(ta)-culture(bunka), and tabunka-kyosei means that people with different cultural backgrounds live closely together in harmony. Although there is no generally accepted translation of the Japanese term tabunka-kyosei in Western languages yet, terms such as multicultural coexistence, multicultural conviviality, multicultural living-together, and multicultural symbiosis are used to express it. Japanese government assigns “cultural coexistence” to tabunkakyosei. The term tabunka-kyosei was not modeled on the concept of multiculturalism as practiced in Anglo-Saxon countries, but was rather created as a kind of antithesis to the Japanese policies of the past, such as the assimilation policy toward Koreans, and also speaks against the Japanese idea of a mono-ethnic nation.

382   Kohei Okamoto and Kumi Sato

In response to the 1995 earthquake, some private volunteer groups were set up to support non-Japanese people in disaster-affected areas. One of the groups was the Foreigners’ Earthquake Information Center. The center went on to become the Center for Multicultural Information and Assistance (“tabunka-kyosei center” in Japanese). It offers help and advice to the foreign community, and their activities have become widely known in Japan through various kinds of media. The concept of tabunka-kyosei has grown up from these grassroots activities, and in 2006 the Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications (MIC) published a report on the promotion of “multicultural coexistence” (tabunka kyosei) within local communities in response to an increasing number of foreigners. The second lesson learned from the 1995 earthquake is that Japanese society needs to provide its foreign community with information in multiple languages, especially disaster information. During the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake and its aftermath, each local authority issued disaster information in multiple languages, but it was one week after the quake at the fastest, and one month later at the latest (Foreigners’ Earthquake Information Center 1996). That brought criticism about the local governments, which were not prepared to disseminate disaster information in multiple languages to their non-Japanese residents, although several volunteer groups and ethnic media promptly started providing that information. After the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake, administrative authorities in Japan became aware of the necessity of providing newcomers (and also tourists to Japan who don’t understand the Japanese language) with information in multiple languages. Especially in the case of emergencies, it is a risk management imperative. They prepared leaflets to widely distribute disaster information among non-Japanese speakers. Some local international associations, most of which were established as the affiliated organizations of local governments with the aim of promoting international interchanges with foreign communities, began providing disaster information to non-Japanese people. For example, Aichi International Association has been offering their template system for translating information into multiple languages on their website. The members of the Multilingual Disaster Information System Consortium developed this template system to translate Japanese disaster information into five languages promptly and accurately (Sato et al. 2009).

Support Activities Performed for Non-Japanese Residents on the Occasion of the 2011 Sanriku Tsunami The Great East Japan Earthquake took place on March 11, 2011. The earthquake and tsunami brought about extensive and severe structural damage in northeastern Japan, especially in Miyagi, Iwate, and Fukushima Prefectures. In Miyagi and Iwate Prefectures the damage caused by the tsunami was extremely serious, and the number of dead and missing people rose to ten thousand in Miyagi and five thousand in Iwate. In Fukushima Prefecture many residents were obliged to evacuate to safe places and live away from their homes because radiation had spread from damaged reactors at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant following several explosions.

Distribution of Non-Japanese Residents and Support Activities for Them   383  

Here we introduce the support activities for the non-Japanese community performed after the disaster by local international associations. The findings are the result of interviews the authors conducted with the staffs of the associations in June and September 2011 and in March 2012.

Iwate International Association The Iwate International Association (IIA) is located in Morioka City, the capital of Iwate Prefecture. On March 12, the day following the disaster, the IIA dispatched an American staffer and a Chinese staffer to work as coordinators for international relations to a local FM radio station, FM Iwate, and to a local AM radio station, IBC, so they could make live broadcasts of disaster information in English and Chinese. From March 13 they broadcast disaster information from other local radio stations as well, such as Community FM Station and NHK Radio Station. And afterward they sent recorded voice packages to the stations via the Internet instead of visiting the stations themselves. The information in the packages included tsunami warnings, river flooding data, information about aftershocks, and so on. Television programs were not available for two days after the disaster due to the electricity outage. Bus transportation became available starting on March 17, and Japanese staff members of the association traveled approximately one hundred kilometers to visit evacuation sites in Miyako City, which lies along the coast where the Hei River flows into Miyako Bay and the Pacific Ocean. They visited the evacuation sites several times to acquire information about non-Japanese refugees. However, it was very hard for them to get the information where they were since most of the non-Japanese were in evacuation sites in mountainous areas or at the homes of relatives or friends. They tried to find out the names of non-Japanese people from the lists of refugees’ names that the local police stations or local media announced. They utilized Twitter as well to gather their safety information.

Miyagi International Association From March 11 to March 19 The Miyagi International Association (MIA) staff received many inquiries from overseas about the safety of non-Japanese residents. They tried to get their safety information with the cooperation of the Miyagi Prefectural Police. Also, many non-Japanese residents contacted the MIA to get information about buses being prepared by each country’s embassy that would transport them to the nearest available airport so they could fly back to their home countries to escape the radiation. The MIA responded to the inquiries regarding bus information in six languages: English, Chinese, Korean, Tagalog, Portuguese, and Japanese.

From March 20 to April 7 On March 20, staff members of the MIA visited the tsunami-struck areas, such as Ishinomaki City, located on the coast of Miyagi Prefecture and one of the places most

384   Kohei Okamoto and Kumi Sato

affected by the earthquake and tsunami. They traveled there in a car prepared by the Japan Association for Refugees and investigated the situation of the non-Japanese residents. Finding a name that looked Korean on the victims list, they informed the South Korean Consulate-General in Sendai City, as the employees of the local municipalities in the disaster areas were too busy with other duties to confirm the safety of non-Japanese people. The MIA staffs visited nineteen local municipalities and evacuation places in those areas during the sixteen days after March 21 using a car they could finally rent for themselves to confirm the non-Japanese people’s safety information. Through these investigations, the staff members noticed that the earthquake victims who they met, Japanese and non-Japanese, desired to speak about their terrifying experiences. They decided to organize workshops in six places in Miyagi Prefecture to reflect upon the earthquake experiences, inviting non-Japanese nationals. The beauty consultants of the Shiseido Company offered to provide the participants with skin care and cosmetic services, and around two hundred non-Japanese women joined the workshops. Those non-Japanese victims talked about their experiences in their own languages—not only of the experiences that scared them or of what they were worried about, but also of what they were moved by and pleased with. Those workshops helped form a network among the non-Japanese people and allowed the Japanese participants to recognize the situations of non-Japanese people.

Sendai International Association The Sendai International Association has had the Disaster Volunteer Interpreter Program since 2000, and their volunteer staff worked daily at the association. Soon after the earthquake took place at 2:46 p.m. on March 11, a staff member of the association who spoke a foreign language and a few foreign students working there went to the FM Sendai Station in their two cars and made live broadcasts to announce tsunami information, what to do, and so on beginning at 5 p.m. They set up the Sendai Disaster Multilingual Support Center that evening. Several volunteers gathered at the center and responded to telephone inquiries in multiple languages starting around 9 p.m. There was only one telephone line available at that time. Due to the limitations of domestic phone lines, most of the calls connected to the center were from overseas on the 11th. The staff responded to those inquires twenty-four hours a day for the next seven days. The number of their registered volunteers was about seventy at that time, more than half of whom were non-Japanese. Twenty-nine volunteers worked at the center over the fifty-one days after the earthquake, and there was even a volunteer who worked there day and night. Most of the inquiries were from Chinese people asking for information about family members, friends, and so on. Those calls included consultations on how to find new jobs, how to get unpaid salaries, and how to contact families. It took a long time for the staff members to assemble the information that would be useful for non-Japanese nationals from the abundant information sent from the

Source: Sendai International Association.

Table 19.1. Telephone Counseling Calls Received by the Sendai Disaster Multilingual Support Center

386   Kohei Okamoto and Kumi Sato

headquarters for disaster control and then translate the information into multiple languages. The translation work was done utilizing the Internet, with the help of several institutions located outside the disaster-affected areas, such as the Tokyo University of Foreign Studies. Concerning the radio broadcasts, since it was not possible for the staff members to go to the radio stations by car because of the lack of petrol, they asked FM WiWi Station in Kobe City to make voice files there and to send the files to the FM Sendai Station via the Internet for broadcasting.

Fukushima International Association

60 55 50 45 40 35 30 25 20 15 10 5 0

Date

12

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20

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y

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ar

r be

em

D

ec

er N

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em

r

ob

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gu

Se

pt

ly Ju

Au

ne Ju

ay M

Ap

20 ch ar M

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English pages Chinese pages

11

Number (thousands)

The Fukushima International Association (FIA) office building itself received serious damage from the earthquake, and the association had to rent a very small room in another building and work there until March 15. Thus, they had no telephones, fax machines, or copying machines at first. Their staff members and Japanese and nonJapanese supporters who spoke Chinese and English languages started telephone consultation work on March 14 with a different telephone number. They had to notify the various media outlets, local municipalities, and related associations about the new telephone number. Internet access became available beginning on March 15, when they returned to their office. Half of the consultations they handled were with Japanese, and the other half were from non-Japanese nationals, mostly inquiries about safety information. In March and April, inquiries regarding radiation exposure were fewer in number than inquiries regarding everyday life, such as the availability of food, water, or petrol. They counted many hits on their website in March and April (see figure 19.2). Concerning radiation exposures, they started providing the latest information on radiation levels on their website on March 15, three days after the first power plant

Figure 19.2. Number of Visitors to the Fukushima International Association Website, March 2011– January 2012.

Distribution of Non-Japanese Residents and Support Activities for Them   387  

explosion, updating the data every hour. They translated the information reported by the Fukushima Prefecture Disaster Countermeasure Headquarters into English and Chinese. They soon began to receive more inquiries about radiation levels from non-Japanese nationals and also from overseas, and one month later they added three more languages: Tagalog, Portuguese, and Korean. They have been continuing to dispatch the information on their website, and now the information is renewed every morning at 9 a.m. (http://www.worldvillage.org/english/jishin/houshano.html). Also, they held meetings four times in four different locations in Fukushima Prefecture in December 2011 titled “Seminar on Radiation and Its Effects on Our Health,” inviting a radiation specialist so the residents could learn about radiation exposure and the effects radiation had on their food, water, and health. The lectures were conducted with consecutive interpretations by professional interpreters into Chinese and English. The number of participants was 123, twenty-six of whom were non-Japanese.

Status of Residence for Non-Japanese and Their Geographical Distribution in the Disaster-Affected Areas Information for non-Japanese nationals was distributed in multiple languages beginning right after the 2011 Sanriku tsunami. It went through various kinds of media—telephone hotlines, radios, websites, Twitter, etc.—mainly by local international associations in Japan. Staff members of the associations visited the evacuation centers to directly provide non-Japanese nationals with information and to determine their damage situation. This fact shows that one of the lessons learned from the 1995 Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake had been applied. However, a new issue has emerged. It involves the geographical distribution of non-Japanese people in disaster-affected areas. The number of non-Japanese residing in the northeastern part of Japan, which contains the main disaster-affected areas of the 2011 Sanriku tsunami, is rather small. The total number of non-Japanese people at the end of 2010, three months before the earthquake, was 2,134,151. This amounts to 1.67 percent of the entire population of Japan. The non-Japanese population in Miyagi, Iwate, and Fukushima Prefectures was only 0.67 percent, mostly Chinese, Korean, and Filipino. The number of Brazilians, which has been growing in industrialized areas of Japan, is rather small in these three prefectures. (See figure 19.3.) Here we explain about the visa status for non-Japanese in Japan. The status of non-Japanese in Japan differ according to their residence status. These statuses can be classified into four groups (see table 19.2). The first group consists of permanent residents, long-term residents, spouses or children of Japanese citizens, and spouses or children of permanent residents. Their employment opportunities are not restricted. Koreans living in Japan are mainly special permanent residents. South Americans such as Brazilians and Peruvians of Japanese ancestry are mostly either permanent residents or long-term residents. The spouses of Japanese are mainly female nonJapanese who are married to Japanese men. About 80 percent of international mar-

388   Kohei Okamoto and Kumi Sato

Chinese

Iwate

Korean

Miyagi Fukushima Tokyo

Number (thousands) 150 50 10

Filipino

Number (thousands) 150 50 10

Brazilian

Number (thousands) 150 50 10

Number (thousands) 150 50 10

Figure 19.3. Distribution of Non-Japanese Residents in Japan 2007.

riages in Japan involve non-Japanese women. Non-Japanese brides have the status of residents while they are married to Japanese men, but they are obliged to leave Japan if the marital relationship is disolved. The second group is the qualified labor permit holders, which includes researchers, artists, instructors, engineers, business managers, intra-company transferees, international service employees, skilled laborers, entertainers, etc. College students and pre-college students make up the third group, in which working is prohibited other than part-time jobs for students. Sixty-seven percent of the non-Japanese students are from China, as of 2010. The fourth group is trainees. The trainee (technical intern trainee) visa status is based on the Technical Intern Training Program managed by the Japan International Training Cooperation Organization (JITCO), which is a public foundation established in 1991 under the joint jurisdiction of five ministries: the Ministry of Justice,

565,989

230,552

210,181

440,273

Korean

Brazilian

Filipino

Others

128,148

92,799

117,780

453,316

172,152

964,195

Permanent resident

38,951

37,870

77,359

8,374

32,048

194,602

Long Term Resident

Group 1

56,916

44,154

31,982

22,335

61,112

216,499

Spouse or Child of Japanese and Permanent Resident

Source: Immigration Statistics, Ministry of Justice, Immigration Bureau.

687,156

2,134,151

Chinese

Total

Total

Job status group

Table 19.2. Registered Aliens by Nationality and Status of Residence (2010)

80,441

10,835

638

25.440

89,873

207,227

Qualified Laborer

Group 2

38,872

713

377

27,066

134,483

201,511

College Student/ Pre-college Student

Group 3

18,940

6,330

68

87

83,926

109,351

Technical Intern Trainees

Group 4

78,005

17,480

2,348

29,371

113,562

240,766

Others

390   Kohei Okamoto and Kumi Sato Table 19.3. Residence Status of Non-Japanese in Three Prefectures of Disaster Areas (2010)

Source: Immigration Statistics, Ministry of Justice, Immigration Bureau.

the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare, the Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry, and the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transportation and Tourism. JITCO explains, “The purpose of this program is to transfer skills to technical intern trainees who will form a basis of economic development in their respective countries and play an important role in Japan’s international cooperation and contribution” (http://www.jitco.or.jp/english/overview/itp/index. html). The Technical Intern Training Program was introduced in 1993 in response to demands from employers’ organizations. Non-Japanese technical trainees are expected to learn technical skills while working at factories, farms, or on fishing boats for a maximum period of three years and are not allowed to change their jobs inside Japan. In reality, this is a program to enable the employers to gain a cheap source of labor mainly from developing countries. As of 2010, nearly 77 percent of the technical trainees are from China. Among the above visa statuses, there are few “qualified labor permit holders” in the disaster-affected areas. Also, there are few permanent resident Koreans in the disaster areas, or South Americans who are long-term residents there. Of the relatively small number of permanent resident Koreans in the disaster areas, many are married to Japanese people. Most of them are women from foreign countries who have Japanese husbands. To sum this up, non-Japanese residents in the disaster areas stricken by the 2011 Sanriku earthquake and tsunami were mainly: •  Students at Japanese language schools or universities •  Trainees and technical intern trainees •  Foreign wives married to Japanese men Most of the non-Japanese students in the disaster-affected areas lived in Sendai City, the capital city of Miyagi Prefecture and the largest city in the Tohoku region, which holds many universities, colleges, and Japanese language schools. When the earthquake struck the region, many non-Japanese trainees were working at small sewing factories or fish-processing factories. And in the farming areas there were quite a few non-Japanese women who emigrated from China or the Philippines to marry Japanese men. The portion of non-Japanese trainees and non-Japanese

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women married to Japanese men in rural Tohoku is higher than in other areas of Japan. Japanese young people often leave the farming and fishing areas in the Tohoku region for jobs in urban cities, so those rural areas have accepted nonJapanese people as laborers. It has traditionally been required for the eldest son of each family in the Tohoku region to inherit the family estate and succeed his father as the head of the family, and they remain in their birthplaces while other young people leave for urban cities. In other words, they are the people bound to their home. It is difficult for those eldest sons to find wives from among Japanese young women who do not want to live in rural areas, and so they welcome women from China or the Philippines as their wives through international marriage brokers, and thus their families survive. Since Japanese society has had serious problems with birthrate decline, population aging, shrinkage of the working population, and rural depopulation, it has accepted non-Japanese people to compensate. Figure 19.4 shows the geographical distribution of non-Japanese in coastal areas of Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima Prefectures by the smallest population census tract in October 2010, five months before the 2011 Sanriku earthquake took place. As indicated in this figure, non-Japanese are distributed not only in urban areas, but are widely dispersed in farming and fishing areas. Among the 5,447 smallest census tracts of the study area, 1,938 of which had non-Japanese residents, 757 had only one non-Japanese, and 623 of those 757 non-Japanese were women. In other words, of the census tracts with any non-Japanese, roughly one-third of them had only one non-Japanese resident, and that person was female. These women live in local communities with their families, isolated from the other non-Japanese residents. This distribution pattern is very different from that in foreigner-concentrated areas, such as Tokyo, Osaka, and Aichi Prefecture.

The Role of Japanese Language Classes to Support Local Non-Japanese Residents The number of non-Japanese people who died due to the 2011 Sanriku tsunami was forty-one (0.2 percent of the total deaths) and was much less than that of the 1995 Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake. This is because the number of non-Japanese residing in the areas affected by the earthquake and tsunami was relatively small (see table 19.4). As mentioned above, non-Japanese residents in the disaster-affected areas were mainly students, technical intern trainees, and foreign wives married to Japanese men. Many of the students and the trainees went back to their home countries shortly after the earthquake due to the nuclear disaster and the damage sustained by the factories where the trainees had been working. The reason why the number of telephone counseling sessions and the number of visitors to the website greatly decreased in a short time (as shown in table 19.1 and figure 19.2) is that many non-Japanese had left the disaster-affected areas. As a result, non-Japanese who remained at that time were non-Japanese wives. Most of the non-Japanese wives are Chinese and Filipino

IWATE

MIYAGI

0

25

50

kilometer Non-Japanese population density (persons per square kilometer)

fewer than 0.005 0.005 – 10.00 10.01 – 25.00 25.01 – 50.00

FUKUSHIMA

50.01 or more Smallest census tract that has no population Smallest census tract where non-Japanese is a female

Figure 19.4. Distribution of Non-Japanese Population in the Coastal Area of Three Prefectures of Tohoku Region, 2010. Source: The national population census of 2010, summary of the smallest census tracts. Areas: Coastal municipalities in Iwate and Miyagi Prefectures; sea coastal municipalities, and municipalities that have caution zones around nuclear power plants, planned evacuation zones, and specific spots recommended for evacuation in Fukushima Prefecture.

Distribution of Non-Japanese Residents and Support Activities for Them   393   Table 19.4. Number of Fatalities by Nationality in Two Great Earthquakes Nationality 1995 Great Hanshin-Awaji 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake Earthquake Japanese 6,231 18,836 Korean 107 15 Chinese 40 16 Brazilian 8 0 Myanmar 3 0 American 2 1 Filipino 1 4 Other 10 5 Total 6,402 18,877 Source: 1995 Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake: Hyogo Prefecture Office 2008, http://web.pref. hyogo.lg.jp/pa20/pa20_000000015.html. The number of fatalities in the 1995 Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake are ones in Hyogo Prefecture. Thirty-two persons died outside Hyogo, but the statistics of their nationality has not been found. 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake: Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare 2011, http://www .mhlw.go.jp/toukei/saikin/hw/jinkou/kakutei11/dl/14_x34.pdf.

women married to farmers and fishermen in bride-poor areas and living with their husbands’ parents. Supports were needed for them. The support measures for non-Japanese people prepared after the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake were expected to be utilized in areas where foreigners were more highly concentrated. However, those measures turned out to be less effective than expected in the case of the 2011 Sanriku tsunami, when they were used to aid sparsely scattered foreign wives. After the earthquake many of the non-Japanese wives faced the dilemma of choosing between their Japanese husbands’ families and their families in their home countries. Those facing the dilemma needed mental health care counseling. Non-Japanese wives who tried to go back to their home countries, leaving their Japanese husbands and children in Japan because their embassies recommended they evacuate, were given icy stares by people in their neighborhoods and even by their Japanese families (Komai and Suzuki 2012). But more miserable were non-Japanese wives who lost their Japanese husbands in the tsunami. According to a staffer of the Miyagi International Association, there was a Korean woman who lost her husband and her mother-in-law did not want her to receive the death benefit or condolence money. The staffer explained to her the rights of wives and helped her to apply for a temporary dwelling offered by the government, insurance benefits, and so on, with the cooperation of lawyers and local volunteers, so that she could recover as much of her life as possible. One of the ways to help non-Japanese wives avoid being isolated is the forma-

394   Kohei Okamoto and Kumi Sato

tion of a network for non-Japanese residents who are geographically scattered, and also a network to connect them with Japanese residents. The authors have found the possibility that local international associations and Japanese language classes will play significant roles in the future for building networks among sparsely scattered non-Japanese and also between Japanese and non-Japanese. Japanese language classes have been working not only as the places for non-Japanese to study Japanese language, but also as the places where they can consult with the Japanese language teachers regarding any concerns, from their daily lives to health matters. They have been working as places for intercultural communication for Japanese and nonJapanese people as well. Minamisoma International Association (MSIA) in Fukushima Prefecture is one of the small, local associations that have had intense relationships with nonJapanese residents on site. It is located several kilometers outside of the evacuation zone (no-entry zone) around the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant (see figure 19.5). The MSIA office is on the second floor of a two-story building that has a computer game shop on the ground floor. The association has three staff members and continued to operate after the Fukushima Daiichi disaster. The staff said that they had networked with sixty to seventy local non-Japanese residents through their Japanese language classes and other activities before the disaster. They could successfully confirm the safety of 80 percent of those residents one month after the disaster. Although most of the non-Japanese residents left Minamisoma City due to the Fukushima nuclear disaster, the MSIA continues to dispatch information about what is going on in the town on its website so as to keep communication with the town’s former residents. The staff told us they were so pleased when they received emails from those former residents. The following is from one such former resident, a Chinese woman who has a Japanese husband and was learning Japanese language at a class held by MSIA: My home was only 24 kilometers away from the Fukushima nuclear plant. My parents in China were very worried when they heard the news that the Fukushima nuclear plant exploded. On March 13 I evacuated to Iitate Village together with my husband, my husband’s parents and some technical trainees working at my husband’s company. We then went to Fukushima City on the following day, but went on to Tokyo on 15 since the situation of the nuclear plant got worse. I was very exhausted. I tried to go back to China to see my parents since I knew they were so worried about me. But it was not easy to find my air ticket for China. Finally I could buy a ticket of March 23 for China which flew from Osaka. I could reach China, but there I got worried about my husband and family who I left in Japan. I came back to Japan on July 6, three months later. I now live in Sendai City. I would like to go back to our normal daily life back in Minamisoma. (Minamisoma International Association, Eye Magazine 21 [October 28, 2011])

Distribution of Non-Japanese Residents and Support Activities for Them   395  

Local international associations or Japanese language classes run by local NPOs could work as hub centers for making a network among non-Japanese wives and between non-Japanese and Japanese. However, there are not enough communitybased international associations like MSIA in the Tohoku region, and there are many municipalities that do not have international associations or Japanese language classes. In Fukushima Prefecture, only one-third of the local municipalities have Japanese language classes, and the fact is that it is not easy to research the general situation of the non-Japanese wives who live scattered in the Tohoku region.

Conclusion The Japanese government amended the Immigration Control Act in 1990 to allow Japanese-descent foreigners (second-generation descendants or nisei-jin and thirdgeneration descendants or sansei-jin) and their spouses to come to the country to work for a long period of time. Since then, the number of South Americans in the population has greatly increased. The Japanese South American migrants have concentrated their residences in the cities where they work, and they have been called newcomers by local governments. Cities with many Japanese South American residents or other non-Japanese residents started to hold the “Council for Cities of NonJapanese Residents” in 2001 to address analysis and resolution of various problems, and they have made proposals to the central government. The Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communication announced policy recommendations via the “Multicultural Coexistence Promotion Program” in March 2006 in response to increasing populations of Japanese South Americans in local communities. On the other hand, the current situation is that the problems related with the non-Japanese residents dispersed in the countryside have not been visible in Japanese society. Ethnicity studies in sociology and geography have mainly focused on the non-Japanese in the foreigner-concentrated areas. However, there have been few studies on non-Japanese people who live dispersed among their host society. The Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake in 1995 made Japanese society recognize the existence of a non-Japanese community inside their society, and the 2011 Sanriku tsunami made them recognize the non-Japanese living dispersed in various areas across Japan. The non-Japanese trainees working in the small-size factories or seafood processing factories located in the coastal areas of northeastern Japan and the Chinese and Filipino wives married to Japanese men in the farming areas were there to compensate for the decreasing Japanese working-age population and the decreasing number of Japanese women who will marry farmers. The eighteen-year-old population of Japan, which was about 1.8 million when the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake occurred in 1995, has decreased to 1.2 million in 2011, two-thirds of the 1995 population. On the other hand, the number of Japanese over sixty-five, who will need extra support during disasters, has increased compared to that of 1995. It is forecasted that Japan’s population structure will be more vulnerable in the near future, when the highly predicted big earthquakes might take place in central Japan. Especially in the farming and fishing areas, which have

Figure 19.5. Minamisoma International Association.

Distribution of Non-Japanese Residents and Support Activities for Them   397  

suffered more serious population declines, the proportion of non-Japanese residents will continue to increase. In future disasters, they are expected to be support persons rather than persons requiring support, and to play significant roles in restoration. One of the developments that could help non-Japanese avoid being isolated would be the formation of networks to connect geographically dispersed individuals in rural areas, regardless of their nationalities or cultural backgrounds. A key for this would be if local international associations or Japanese language classes run by local NPOs could be the effectual centers for making such networks—not only among nonJapanese, but between non-Japanese and Japanese. In order to mitigate the impact of natural disasters and the demographic situation of an aging population and low birthrates, the authors believe that studies of non-Japanese people living in widely scattered areas as well as those concentrated in urban areas would be important to realize the “tabunka-kyosei” or “co-existent” society.

References Foreigners’ Earthquake Information Center. 1996. Hanshin Daishinsai-to Gaikokujin [The Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake and Foreigners]. Tokyo: Akashi Shoten. Komai, H., and E. Suzuki. 2012. Higashi Nihon Daishinsai to Gaikokujin Ijyusha-tati [Great East Japan Earthquake and Foreign Immigrants]. Tokyo: Akashi Shoten. Nishinarita, Y. 1997. Zainichi Chosenjin-no “Sekai” to “Teikoku” kokka [The Gemeinschaft of Korean Workers in Imperial Japan]. Tokyo: Univ. of Tokyo Press. Sato, K., K. Okamoto, and M. Miyao. 2009. “Japan, Moving Towards Becoming a MultiCultural Society, and the Way of Disseminating Multilingual Disaster Information to Non-Japanese Speakers.” Proceedings of the 2009 International Workshop on Intercultural Collaboration. New York: Association for Computing Machinery, 51–60.

20

Coordinating Policy Toward Fiscal Preparedness for Natural Disasters A Post-2011 Earthquake and Tsunami Perspective Yilin Hou and Unryu Suganuma In the broadest sense, the disciplines of public administration, public management, and public policy are to study the public sector, more specifically government: What is government supposed to do? (In other words, what are its functions?) How does government perform its functions, and with what features and under what models? And how can the outcome and performance of government be measured? (Has government obtained its goals and targets as set forth by the citizenry or by itself?) Among the existing literature on the functions and performance of government, there are generic theories and models for study that serve as the platform for universal, cross-country principles. Underlying these common rules in their application in the context of each country are country-specific features and characteristics. Generalizing common lessons from the latter and extracting the lessons into generic rules contributes to theory building. In this way, theories of government and the practice of it are bridged into one coherent system. The worldwide Great Recession of 2007–2009 and the 2011 Sanriku Coast earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear accident have offered the research community a prime opportunity to draw lessons from country-specific incidents. On one hand, the lasting drag of the economic downturn calls for deeper understanding about the causes and cures of financial fluctuations and instability; on the other hand, the divergent practices of sovereign nations prior to and during the Great Recession and handling of the earthquake-tsunami-nuclear consequences in Japan provide us with the raw materials to analyze and reflect upon, in order to enrich and revise existing theories. This chapter focuses on the role of government in maintaining financial stability in the face of economic downturns and natural disasters, the role of big enterprises in developing financial preparedness for natural disasters and accidents, and the tools for government and businesses to choose from and implement. The chapter draws examples from the United States over the past sixty years. Based on analyses of American experiences, both successes and failures, the chapter develops an analytical framework on the general principles for government and big enterprises in sustaining long-run fiscal stability. In other words, this chapter offers a post-2011 398  

Coordinating Policy Toward Fiscal Preparedness for Natural Disasters   399  

Sanriku Coast tsunami earthquake perspective on fiscal preparedness for natural disasters and accidents. It proposes a framework for coordinated fiscal policy by the public sector (government) and the private sector (businesses, in particular big enterprises). The purpose of the chapter is to advocate for emergency/disaster preparedness in financial resources through a formal mechanism and institution, so that upon the occurrence of a catastrophe the whole society can spontaneously and effectively handle the steps in rescue operations that lead to restoration of normal life. The next section offers a public management framework for long-term fiscal stability, where we elaborate on two major relations, majority interest versus minority interest, long-term interest versus short-term interest. It is essential for any nation to achieve political consensus on fiscal preparedness because precautionary policy requires some reduction of current consumption for utility smoothing to better handle uncertainty. Section three discusses preparedness by the public sector. It draws from the literature on counter-cyclical fiscal policy and policy instruments, discussing counter-cyclical fiscal policy/capacity and empirical evidence of such policy and tools from state governments in the United States. In this section we also discuss problems that exist in government policy on disaster preparedness and lessons that we can learn involving intergovernmental fiscal transfers and procyclical debt use. Section four focuses on relevant policies for the private sector, especially big enterprises that cast huge impacts on the society as a whole. We will examine the need for disaster preparedness by the private sector, policy issues, how to avoid moral hazard in implementing the proposed policies, as well as details of enterprise contingency funds. The final section concludes with directions for future studies by scholars and further consideration by policy makers and business executives.

A Public Management Framework for Long-Term Fiscal Stability By the term “government” we refer to a sovereign state, its political party or parties, and its government thereby composed. A modern government exists only to serve its people. What roles do modern governments play in order to show their relationship with people—citizens? The following three basic roles emerge as the common, universal government functions. The first is to promote development (Deaton 2010), which includes economic growth, employment, income redistribution, etc. This is the starting point of a modern society run by a government of the people. Only with continuous economic growth can there be employment for the labor force, from which citizens can obtain decent incomes. Without sustained growth, jobs are not available and income will be out of sight for many people. Then government needs to address disparity that arises from growth, via taxation and public expenditure programs (Saez and Piketty 2006). Reduction of inequity and restraint of it within a socially acceptable range further promotes economic development (Saez 2005). The second function is to maintain living standards, which covers livelihood, education, health, retirement, etc. Development and growth are, after all, for providing a rising living standard for the people so that citizens enjoy a livelihood that continuously improves, with comfortable lives that are free of hunger, cold, diseases, and life

400   Yilin Hou and Unryu Suganuma

threat from natural disasters. Further, a reliable retirement (social security) system will provide the guarantee for the seniors. The third function is to secure overall stability, which starts with national defense/security but goes on to social order, public safety, economic security, and cyclical stability (Keynes 1936), including social and financial stability after catastrophic natural disasters or accidents. The list of functions for a government can be very long, but these three are the common core. A responsible sovereign state, political party, and government must perform these roles if it wants to stay in power. This prerequisite remains true regardless of what state system (federal versus unitary) or political system (capitalism or socialism or their variants) a sovereign country adopts.

Core Capacities of Governance To well play its functions, a government must possess and refine its capacities of governance. The following four seem to be the core, as reflected in four relationships (Hou 2011). Handling these relationships well is evidence that a government possesses core capacity; mishandling them is an indication of inability. The first is the relation between the political party in power and the government, the composition of administration. This refers to the selection and appointment of officials, and then how the officials are evaluated, promoted, and motivated. The second is the relation between government and the public—that is, how the idea of a people’s government permeates the composition and operation of the administration. In this regard, theories of public choice and principal-agent have provided a lot of intricacies. The third is the relation between government and the economy. The invisible hand fully plays to employ the market mechanisms in order to maximize efficiency of all available resources (Smith 1776); the visible hand needs to apply reasonable and appropriate regulation in order to maintain market order and secure smooth operation of the market. The fourth is the relation between different layers of the government structure (Musgrave 1959)—that is, how central, subcentral, and local governments each play out their roles. Fiscal federalism here well applies that appropriately locates responsibilities between the layers, as well as designates revenue sources (types of taxes) between them (Oates 1972). A government with strong governance capacity can well handle these four relationships; one that cannot lacks the core capacity, and therefore cannot stay long in power because it cannot exercise its due functions. On October 6, 2000, the western part of Tottori Prefecture had a magnitude 7.3 earthquake, equivalent to the Hanshin-Awaji earthquake in Kobe in 1995. According to a strange Japanese law, kasetsu jutaku [temporary housing], which costs an average of 4 million yen, must be completely destroyed after a certain period. However, if the government provides about 3 million yen to subsidize the rebuilding of houses, people in Tottori Prefecture can live in their own home for their lifetime. As a result, Yoshihiro Katayama, the governor of Tottori Prefecture, rejected a kasetsu jutaku plan recommended by bureaucrats in the central government. Instead, Governor Katayama made a bold decision, one that is unprecedented in Japanese history: to provide a subsidy of 3 million yen to rebuild any house and 1.5 million yen to repair

Coordinating Policy Toward Fiscal Preparedness for Natural Disasters   401  

any home (Katayama 2006). Katayama’s leadership shocked Japan. Usually, the population declines in a disaster area after an earthquake. However, the population in Tottori Prefecture increased slightly because many sons and daughters who lived in metropolitan cities returned to their hometown after rebuilding their houses. In 2007, the Japanese government changed the law to allow a 3 million yen subsidy to rebuild houses; Katayama’s leadership changed Japanese government policies. Fortunately, no one died from the earthquake in 2000 (Katayama 2006).

Strategies of Implementing Governance The strategies of implementing governance can be viewed from three dimensions. They are: (a) mechanisms for decision/policy making and decision/policy implementation; (b) temperament of development and its realization, and (c) mechanisms for wealth/benefit distribution among economic agents. Policies and decisions can be made in a centralized or decentralized fashion, which is also true in the implementation of policies/decisions. Both fashions carry inherent advantages and disadvantages (Fayol [1916] 1949; Frederickson 1980; Kaufman 1969). Centralized policy making is good for unifying targets, maintaining unity among policy makers and major interest groups, and facilitating wealth redistribution among regions and income groups in an effort to narrow wealth disparity. Decentralized policy making stands out, in comparison to centralization, for promoting diversity, mobilizing regional and local initiatives, and raising economic efficiency. Economic development can follow a fast track or a more gradual route. The former brings or leads to tension, while the latter carries relaxation. Differences between the two permeate all aspects of development and can be identified anywhere. Either one generates benefits. Fast track growth can break bottlenecks more effectively, whereas gradual growth solidifies the foundation more subtly. Tension cries for earlier solution of conflicts; relaxation better reaches harmony and maintains consensus among parties of conflicts. Thus, the two tracks complement each other. With regard to redistribution of wealth and benefits, the focus can fall on the current period, short term, medium term, or long term, with very different outcomes. The current term refers to a time frame of less than one year, the short term one to three years, the medium term three to five years, and the long term five to ten years. The current and short terms reflect more of a part of the whole, instead of the whole, and the interests of a portion of the population instead of the whole population. In contrast, the medium and long terms in most cases reflect the whole and the interests of the majority of the population. In cases of natural disasters, accidents, or recessions, short-term actions surface quickly to meet the urgency and are easily implemented, but they will only bring short-term relief; long-term solutions are much more crucial, but they are not easy to find or decide upon. Among long-term solutions are more appropriate regulations of the economy—in particular, regulation of sectors that pose huge potential threats to social and economic stability. Of these solutions, institutions as formal mechanisms are particularly difficult to create, but they are absolutely necessary.

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Governance capacity is truly embedded in the strategies of government. Appropriate treatment of the above four relationships is reflected in timely and proper readjustment of the three dimensions. Correct choice of the strategies is to exercise governance capacity in the most proper manner. The central idea is to seek dynamic balance by taking a proper point in the continuum between centralization and decentralization, adopting a moderate tempo of development that is neither too fast nor too slow, as well as properly combining the short-term and the long-term benefits. A government with strong capacity can well balance the four relationships in the three dimensions so that the economy develops on a sustainable path, government finance operates on a stable basis, the society thus possesses the basis for harmony, and government fully exercises its functions. Only then can the political party in power claim that it is good at governing and is governing the country at ease.

Goals of Government The goals of good government and sound governance can be specified as the following, for the various parties and different aspects of operation. For the ruling political party and administration, the goal is to stay in power for a long time with a stable and harmonious society. For the general public, the goal is to live a stable, comfortable, and satisfactory life (high on a happiness index). With regard to the macro economy, a sustainable path comes first, with stability second, so as to avoid drastic fluctuations from recessions or catastrophes. Specific goals in public finance are for the taxation system to be reasonable, with a moderate tax burden; for public expenditure to be orderly, with administrative expenses constrained within a limit and social welfare restrained; for the government budget to be roughly balanced by the fiscal year and to be balanced over the business cycle; for fiscal transfers to consider cyclical patterns of the economy and public needs for services; and for public services to be provided in a counter-cyclical pattern. On January 17, 1995, when the M 7.3 Kobe earthquake hit Hyogo Prefecture, Toshitami Kaihara was the governor of Hyogo Prefecture. Dispatching the SelfDefense Force (SDF) was delayed, according to the media, because Governor Kaihara made a misjudgment during the earthquake. On February 15, 1995, the Japanese government created the seven-person “recovery committee,” which included both the governor of Hyogo Prefecture and the mayor of Kobe, under the prime minister’s office. By April 1995, the start of the new fiscal year, Hyogo Prefecture was provided 600 billion yen, but the money required for recovery reached 900 billion yen. In the end, about 17 trillion yen was invested in Kobe’s recovery. The major recovery plan, called the “phoenix plan,” had five main items: 1. Creation of a society dedicated to public welfare in preparation for the 21st century: each “grouping home” has their own bedroom, bath, and toilet, but the living room and dinning room are shared with others. 2. Building a culturally rich society open to the world: in order to bring modernism into Kobe, a theater was built.

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3. Creation of a society where existing industries grow and new industries flourish: the next generation supercomputer and others are built in Hyogo Prefecture. 4. Creation of a disaster-resistant metropolis where people can live with confidence: one of the main projects was to create the “6.6 Road.” 5. Formation of a multicenter network-type metropolitan area: in order to avoid gathering of the population in the center of the city, Hyogo Prefecture has tried to disperse its population in the areas surrounding the city. (Edgington 2010) However, in the case of Kobe, many issues have arisen. A number of people died alone in their shelter homes after the earthquake. A decade later, deaths have not declined at all as they should. By the end of 2007, about 522 people had passed away alone in shelter homes (Kaihara 2009). When we mention economic and financial stability, we refer to the whole of the macro economy and three aspects of the public finance system: taxation, outlays, and debt. Taxation covers the tax system, types of taxes, tax rate structure, tax burden by all groups, and the portion of the population that pays taxes. Outlay refers to the total, direction of expenditure, ways and means of expenditure, as well as budgetary balance and restraints (fiscal discipline). Debt refers to the size, types, and purposes of borrowing, as well as the administration hierarchy and debt limits. Stability covers two dimensions of time in financial administration. One is sustainability in the medium and long terms; the other is stability in the economic cycle. Financial stability has become increasingly more important to every country. The Great Recession showcases that large-scale social welfare programs have cast substantial burdens, and that government cannot afford to promise indefinite services. After all, the roles of government are limited; it cannot and must not intend to replace all other factors in the economy and society.

Government Counter-Cyclical Fiscal Policy and Policy Tools In this section we review how government has been handling economic fluctuations from the recession; the purpose is to draw a parallel for the private sector. Economic cycles are inherent in the economy (Burns and Mitchell 1946), just as natural disasters are unavoidable. Recessions are occasions for correction, reallocation of resources in the economy, which means drastic economic decline during downturns that necessarily causes tremendous disruptions to existing productivity as well as disruption to the normal standards of living. Amelioration of such disruption is beyond the capacity of the private sector; it falls at least partly on the public sector as the macroeconomic stabilization function.

Counter-Cyclical Fiscal Policy Recessions are a repeated frustration and perplexity to business owners and executives and elected officials, who press for explanations and solutions. In fact, mankind

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has been dealing with the cycle of rich and poor harvest years since the beginning of agriculture. The rich versus poor harvest years are the cycles of nature reflected in the output of agricultural activity. Out of centuries’ worth of experience, some common sense accumulated; long-standing is the teaching to “save grains in case of famine.” Lessons like this are recorded in our history. The introduction of Keynesianism led to the emergence of the theory and practice of counter-cyclical fiscal policy (CCFP). The unprecedented devastating effects of the Great Depression (1929–1933) pushed American scholars to examine economic policies for answers. Scholars were shocked to find that all levels of government until then had been following the waves of the economic cycle, spending more during booms and cutting back during recessions, especially during the Great Depression. The pattern of spending was part of the tradition of government noninterference in the economy and the binding requirement for federal, state, and local governments to balance their budgets annually at each and every level. Milton Friedman (1948) proposed a framework with both monetary and fiscal policies and tools. In the framework, he called for balancing two sides: efficiency of the economy for longterm growth and short-term stability to reduce fluctuations. The evolution of theories culminated in Richard Musgrave’s (1959) Theory of Public Finance, where he formally expressed economic stabilization as one of the three major functions or economic justifications for modern government. Musgrave defined stabilization as one of the key performance indicators of the macro economy, such as high employment, price stability, sound foreign accounts, and reasonable economic growth. To play the stabilization role well, government is supposed to implement fiscal policies against the expansionary and contractionary phases of the economic cycle. Since the 1930s emergence of CCFP, central governments all over the world have applied this policy in every recession. The basic principle behind its application is common sense—to apply the main tools of fiscal policy (taxation, public expenditure, and debt) against the boom-bust cycles of the macro economy: Save surplus tax revenues and retire debt during booms in order to increase public expenditure during busts. Let us illustrate with the imagined case of a generic government that is subject to the restraint of fiscal and budgetary institutions. This government must balance its budget each year; they divide annual total outlays into two parts, the operating budget for the regular provision of services (O) and the capital budget for construction of capital projects with long, useful lives (C) (in cases where the operating is not distinguished from the capital budget, then O and C are treated as one element). The government is allowed to issue debt for the latter but not the former; such debt usually is long-term, guaranteed with the full faith and credit (general obligation, or GO, bond) of the taxing power of the government, with maturity over ten years for intergenerational equity—whoever benefits in the long run should pay for it—and economic efficiency to smooth the tax rate. To prevent abuse of borrowing, debt issues are subject to limits. Thus, the annually balanced budget equation is the following, with the left-hand side being revenue and the right-hand side being outlay:

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τt + (bt − bt−1) = (Ot + Ct) + rbt−1 , (1) where O is operating expenditure; C is capital expenditure excluding interest payments on previous debt; b is the stock of total long-term debt outstanding at the end of year t; r is real rate of return on debt; and τt is real tax revenue in year t. With the annual budget balancing restraint in the equation, we assume that debt service payments for each fiscal year are planned ahead and incur at the beginning of the fiscal year. Tax rate is total tax revenue, τt, as a fraction of the macro economy, Y. For efficiency reasons, we assume that tax rate to be invariant over the economic cycle. We can express the economic cycle as a regime that switches between two states (S): S0,1, 1 = recession, duration 1–2 years; 0 = boom, duration of 4–6 years (Hamilton 1993; Gordon 2010). In a boom (S0), the economy grows at a trend rate and government program outlays also grow. In a recession (S1), Y temporarily falls below the trend. In order to maintain the trend level outlay on public services during a recession, it is necessary to save some resources for use in a downturn. Thus, in a boom year equation (1) becomes: τt + (bt − bt −1) − S = (Ot + Ct) + rbt−1 , S = 0, (2) And in a recession year it turns into: τt + (bt − bt −1) = (Ot + Ct) − S + rbt −1 , S = 1, (3) where S is fiscal reserves that are put aside in boom for use in downturns. In this way, the balancing of the government budget changes from annual to cross-economic-cycle. The working mechanisms of fiscal policy instruments are of two kinds. The first are automatic stabilizers, those that are designed into the expenditure and tax systems and do not need any policy action for them to be put in use; the policy tools are triggered by indicators of the economy. The second kind of mechanism is discretionary; such fiscal policies are made for specific occasions and events. Examples include temporary tax reductions that come with a legislative action and other expenditure programs that need legislative approval. Hou and Moynihan (2008) conceptualize the use of CCFP as a governance capacity and treat the use of accumulated reserves to mitigate emergency spending cuts and tax/fee increases in the face of revenue shocks as a measure of performance of the financial management system.

CCFP Tools The next step is to examine what policy instruments are available and what have been used. State governments in the United States have chosen policy instruments that are technically sound, administratively convenient, and politically operable in order to accumulate fiscal reserves necessary for handling revenue shortfalls in a downturn. The two most frequently mentioned and used CCFP tools are the general fund surplus (GFS) and the budget stabilization fund (BSF), though conceptually there can be many more possible instruments (some are variations of the BSF and GFS in different forms).

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For example, to practitioners, all forms of reserves including various contingency funds should be counted in the BSF category—those that are fine for onetime use and will be returned as soon as the economy recovers. In fact, the Government Finance Officers’ Association (GFOA 1999) lists contingency funds as being the same as BSF. General fund surpluses have long been a fiscal tool, “as a hedge against forecasting errors; as reserves against onetime expenses [like natural disasters, court-mandated spending, or liability payments]; and as working funds to meet cash flow requirements” (GFOA 1999). The general fund surplus is part of the operating fund of a government, which is why it is an “informal policy tool.” It easily becomes a target of spending pressure in boom years. For this reason, practitioners long sought for a more formal tool for counter-cyclical fiscal policy, one that ideally is separated from the daily financial operations, thus overcoming the shortcomings of the informal tool. This formal tool is the budget stabilization fund (BSF). As a formal policy instrument, a budget stabilization fund is defined as a fund that is equipped with three overarching features. First and foremost, a BSF has an enabling legislation as its legal basis; thereby, the fund possesses binding force on the key players in the budgeting process, who then exert heavy influence on state finance and in each state’s budgeting process. The enabling legislation specifies the structural features of the fund, protecting the fund balance against attacks from political pork barreling or overspending in boom years. In contrast, maintaining a sizable level of surplus in the general fund or contingency funds may or may not need an enabling legislation. Second, the budget stabilization fund as a counter-cyclical reserve fund goes across fiscal years (budget cycles) and operates over the whole economic cycle, which is ideally displayed in fund deposits during boom years for accumulation of savings and withdrawals in lean years for use against revenue shortfalls. In this way, it is clear that a working capital fund or general fund reserve designed to operate within fiscal years (budget cycles) is not a real budget stabilization fund. Finally, the budget stabilization fund is a government-wide reserve for general purposes, not just for any particular department or single purpose; its primary target is budgetary stabilization in times of revenue shortfalls. State governments in the United States maintain reserves that fall into three categories (GAO 1999): (a) government-wide reserves for general purposes; (b) government-wide reserves for specific purposes; and (c) agency-specific reserves for specific purposes. Any reserves for single or special purposes or for use only by certain government agencies are not in this category. Contingency funds as currently in use by many governments are across-fiscal-year/budget-cycle reserves, and they can be government-wide or agency-specific, but on the whole they are reserves for specific purposes (for example, natural disasters, litigation settlements, or self-insurance).

Effects of CCFP: Problems and Lessons for Government There has been a large amount of literature on the empirical effects of stabilization funds in the United States. Hou et al. (2003) and Hou and Moynihan (2008) show that adoption of CCFP improves the capacity of governments to cope with revenue shortfalls, which in turn ameliorates the restrictions of annual budget cycles. Sobel and Holcome

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(1996), Knight and Levinson (1999), Wagner (1999), and Hou (2003) show evidence that with stabilization funds, states substantially increased their boom-year savings. After adoption of stabilization funds, state outlays during recession years became more stable, with its fluctuation reduced by 20 percent (Wagner and Elder 2005). Further, BSF can markedly smooth own-source outlay during recessions (Hou 2005). These are solid evidence that CCFP with BSF can produce substantive policy benefits. Despite all progress, problems remain in government CCFP. Here we mention only two major ones. The first is with regard to the design of intergovernmental transfers: Cyclicality of the economy is not considered in creating grants; transfers are designed to be acyclical by default. But economies fluctuate, tax revenues rise and fall with their base, and state expenditures on public service programs also fluctuate. There exists a mismatch between the design of transfer programs and the macro economy. Some federal programs even tend to be procyclical, the Federal Medical Assistance Percentage being a typical example. The second problem is about the issue of debt. Since subnational governments are bound by balanced budget requirements, and their current revenues rise with booms and decline with recessions, their pattern of borrowing long-term debt for capital project financing is also procyclical, which goes completely against CCFP. It accelerates cyclical fluctuations rather than reducing them. These problems are worth mentioning because they are directly related to the design of a coordinated policy framework to prepare for downturns and catastrophes.

Relevant Issues for Big Enterprises Before the Great Recession, most major economies in the world had been incurring chronic deficits and accumulating debts. During the recession, counter-cyclical fiscal policy was heavily used, but its effect had been compromised. Then the devastating oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico by the British Petroleum Corporation (BP) and the meltdown at Japan’s Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant painfully reminded us of another indispensable aspect of fiscal policy, a part that involves businesses: neither of these accidents was the result of the economic downturn, but both cast huge negative impacts on a global economy that has been struggling for recovery. Thus, it is urgent for the public policy and public finance communities to reexamine whether the current policies contain systemic loopholes, and to consider creating an improved network of policies with adequate tools to better safeguard the future of our society. With an integrated policy network, we can better maintain macroeconomic stability on the cyclical side as well as social stability and public safety on the acyclical side. The following section offers an idea toward this holistic system of policy design.

Need for Disaster Preparedness—An Integrated Policy Network Effective economic stabilization requires a coordinated network of monetary and fiscal policies as well as integration of the use of policy tools in the public and private sectors, because the private sector accounts for the bulk of the economy. Without active participation of businesses, any stimulative or stabilizing efforts can hardly meet expectations. To better prepare for future occurrence of disasters, we need

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financial preparations done in a systematic way, which calls for an integrated policy network, in particular the creation of contingency funds, in both the government and private sectors, as an inherent component of a fiscal policy network. An optimal policy network must involve both monetary policy and fiscal policy. Monetary policy is designed to be counter-cyclical, with all its tools going against the economic cycle. Fiscal policies are of three types by their cyclical features: procyclical, counter-cyclical, and acyclical. Procyclical policies go with the economic cycle. They are applied to push up the peak when the economy is in expansion and to exacerbate the trough when the economy is in recession. Counter-cyclical fiscal policies go against the economic cycle. They are designed for and expected to be effective when the economy contracts. Once the economy starts to expand, such policies phase out of use and are put on the shelf. Automatic stabilizers (like the progressive personal income tax and unemployment insurance) and budget stabilization funds are among counter-cyclical tools. The third type is acyclical, meaning that they are not related to fluctuations of the macro economy. These are contingency funds. A government’s fiscal policy set is incomplete without carefully designed contingency funds. The reason for creating contingency funds is straightforward. To stabilize the economy and to protect public safety more effectively, it is crucial that the public sector (government) and the private sector (firms) work together. Thus, both monetary policy and fiscal policy necessarily contain elements that involve actions by government itself and also by individual businesses. An ideal policy network must have the two sectors integrated. In the finance/banking sector, the central bank requires commercial banks to submit a certain percentage of their absorbed savings as deposits for possible bank rushes, which may or may not be linked to the economic cycle and are associated more with any type of risk. In the business world, especially those industries that involve high risks to assets or human life, purchase of insurance has been a widely adopted practice to cover unexpected damage. But as the case of the American International Group (AIG) demonstrated in triggering the Great Recession in the United States, insurance firms themselves are also subject to huge moral hazard-related risks. Thus, it is not enough to rely solely on them. We advocate that central governments adopt a mandatory, uniform policy that requires firms in high-risk industries to set up contingency funds with a central financial institution, much as commercial banks do with the central bank. It is to be entrusted with the central government, not any subnational units, in order to stave off any foul play by governmental units in competition for investment or by firms trying to evade the deposit requirement. Table 20.1 offers a summary of the integrated policy network. Table 20.1. Illustration of the Integrated Policy Network Policy Area Monetary Fiscal

Cyclical Feature Counter-cyclical Acyclical Procyclical Counter-cyclical Acyclical

Government Interest rate; money supply Automatic stabilizers

Business Deposit requirement Deposit requirement Contingency funds

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Enterprise Contingency Funds For big enterprises in sectors of the economy that pose huge potential threats to assets and life, we propose that each of them set up a contingency fund, as part of the policy network proposed above for the private sector. These funds contribute toward financial preparedness for disasters and accidents. The main features and rationales are elaborated below. The economic rational for the proposed acyclical contingency fund follows the same idea as tax smoothing for the general public. The requirement of a certain level of up-front precautionary financial resources can be of great utility in correcting negative externality by firms. This up-front “cost” is linked closely to benefits: Whichever firm poses potential risk lays aside resources to set up such a fund. The costs may shift forward to consumers or backward to providers; thus, whoever benefits from the firm’s products shares the cost. In fact, these resources are not real costs because they are not taken away from the enterprise; they remain as assets of the enterprise, only they are placed in an escrow account under the oversight of a central government regulatory agency. If no accidents occur, these assets ultimately will be returned to the firm. When locked in the escrow account, the money will be invested in the market in high-liquidity vehicles. The amount required for such a contingency fund is not a tax; the payment into the fund remains the firm’s asset, for use only on occasions as specified in the legislation that creates the fund and in the charter that guides the operation of the fund. The size of the reserve is related to the amount of risks exposed by the firm. There are three major factors to consider in determining the fund size. The first is the probability of an accident: Higher probability imposes higher reserves. The second is the scope of damage in case of an accident in terms of the number of people, the size of the accident impact area, and the amount of total social assets under impact of the accident. And the third is the duration of damage in case of an accident: Longer lasting damage demands larger funds. These three factors also pose technical difficulties in creating contingency funds because none of the three is easy to be delineated clearly; but that can be left for deliberation on the technical level. To effectively implement these contingency funds, two additional aspects are important. First, the reserve funds will be under central government control. This is to prevent local authorities from relaxing the reserve requirement in competition for business investment. Second, the contingency funds must be regularly audited with full information disclosure for public oversight, which is to build up trust between the public and the business, and between the private sector and government.

Policy Issues and Avoidance of Moral Hazard To implement this fiscal policy on big enterprises in risky industries entangles serious policy issues. First, no doubt this proposed contingency fund can easily cause complaints by the individual firms, politically or ideologically conservative groups, even the public as increasing the financial burden on businesses and increasing govern-

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ment intervention in the economy. This complaint is a fallacy. As we have discussed earlier, it is government’s responsibility to safeguard the stability of the economy and the safety of its citizens from catastrophes. In the absence of a compulsory and universal policy for large firms in risky industries, disasters like the BP Deepwater Horizon blowout and the nuclear accident at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant, and the resulting damages, will repeat many times without adequate reserves. Even so, the final cost will fall on government (in other words, taxpayers) anyway. Thus, this proposed policy is not over-intervention but necessary regulation. The required reserves for the contingency fund are not extra costs or burdens, but rather the true total social cost of producing products in those sectors. In other words, firms like oil and power companies have been operating under illusionary low costs for too long. Imposing this requirement will not increase the size of government, because the current setup of government agencies, like the central bank and regulatory agencies, can well handle the new task without large increases of staff. The main challenge lies in determining the eligibility of firms for this policy, which involves defining the size of businesses that are subject to the policy and defining the types and amounts of risks in the sector. This difficulty, however, can be overcome as long as disclosure and transparency are maintained about the operation of the firms. These tasks are manageable under today’s information systems. There is no insurmountable technical problem, only a lack of political determination. Thus, the test is for policy makers and politicians to stand up to heavy lobbying by big enterprises. Finally, the proposed contingency funds as a formal mechanism to store fiscal reserves are beyond an insurance program: They are not traditional insurances, but better than that. If set up as a conventional insurance program, businesses simply pay to buy “assurance” from accident liabilities. The insurance for this purpose poses huge, even insurmountable problems of adverse selection and moral hazard. Adverse selection arises because only those firms that are prone to accidents will self-opt to purchase insurance policies; thus, the market will be far too small to be operable and efficient, unless the central government issues a mandate for all firms to participate in the program, which serves as a measure of full social cost. Moral hazard is due from the fact that once a firm has purchased this insurance policy, then it will operate without exercising due precaution against accidents because the policy premium has become a sunken cost to the firm anyway. It is in this sense that a centrally regulated and supervised enterprise contingency fund system surpasses insurance and can at least minimize, if not solve, the moral hazard problem on the part of businesses. Table 20.2 offers a summary of the major features of the proposed contingency funds.

Concluding Remarks This chapter proposes an integrated policy network with both monetary and fiscal policies that actively involve the government and the private sector. Specifically, the policy proposal is to require the creation of a contingency fund by each high-risk business with a central regulatory agency. Learning from past experiences, this

Coordinating Policy Toward Fiscal Preparedness for Natural Disasters   411   Table 20.2. Main Features of the Proposed Enterprise Contingency Funds Feature

Description

Creation

By law passed by national legislature

Notes

Nature

Mandatory, universal for big enterprises in selected sectors

Eligibility

Big enterprises in sectors of the economy that pose huge potential threats to assets and human life

Resource

From each eligible firm

Size of fund

Three determinants: Probability of accident Scope of damage from an accident:  Number of human lives involved   Size of accident impact area  Amount of total social assets under impact Duration of damage of accident

Account

Escrow, for disaster relief only; to be invested in liquid vehicles

Ownership

Firm; thus not adding to operating cost

Oversight

By a central government regulatory agency

To avoid adverse selection

Technically difficult but manageable with adequate information disclosure

To minimize moral hazard; better than insurance programs

proposed integrated policy network will contribute to better protecting the public against catastrophes and better maintain macroeconomic and societal stability in the face of disasters. The usual caveat applies: this policy is a preliminary proposal, with most details to be worked out by industrial and financial experts from both the public and private sectors. Even after the policy is designed and put to use, a lead time for gradual refinement of the policy is necessary; however, imperfections at the beginning are no excuse for not adopting the policy; missteps in the process of experimenting should not be cause to abandon the policy.

References Barro, R. J. 1979. “On the Determination of the Public Debt.” Journal of Political Economy 87 (5) (Part 1): 940–971. Burns, Arthur, and Wesley Mitchell. 1946. Measuring the Business Cycle. New York: National Bureau of Economic Research. Deaton, Angus. 2010. “Understanding the Mechanisms of Economic Development.” Journal of Economic Perspectives 24 (3): 3–16. Edgington, David. 2010. Reconstructing Kobe: The Geography of Crisis and Opportunity. Vancouver: Univ. of British Columbia Press.

412   Yilin Hou and Unryu Suganuma Fayol, Henri. (1916) 1949. General and Industrial Management. Translated by Constance Stores. London: Pitman Publishing Fesler, J. W. 1965. “Approaches to the Understanding of Decentralization.” Journal of Politics 27:536–566. Frederickson, H. George. 1980. New Public Administration. University: Univ. of Alabama Press. Friedman, M. 1948. “A Monetary and Fiscal Framework for Economic Stability.” American Economic Review 38 (3): 245–264. Gordon, R. J. 2010. “Okun’s Law and Productivity Innovations.” American Economic Review 100 (2): 11–16. Government Finance Officers Association (GFOA). 1999. “4.1. Develop Policy on Stabilization Funds.” Recommended Budget Practices: A Framework for Improved State and Local Government Budgeting. Chicago: Government Finance Officers Association. Hamilton, J. 1993. “Estimation, Inference, and Forecasting of Time Series Subject to Changes in Regime.” In Handbook of Statistics, vol. 11, edited by G. S. Maddala, C. R. Rao, and H. D. Vinod. New York: North-Holland. Hou, Y. L. 2003. “What Stabilizes State General Fund Spending During Downturns: Budget Stabilization Fund, General Fund Unreserved Undesignated Balance, or Both?” Public Budgeting and Finance 23 (3): 64–91. ———. 2005. “Fiscal Reserves and State Own-Source Expenditure in Downturn Years.” Public Finance Review 33 (1): 117–144. ———. 2011. “A Public Management Framework for Economic Stability.” Speech at Forum on Public Management, Fudan University, July 16–18, Shanghai, China. Hou, Y. L., and D. Moynihan. 2008. “The Case for Counter-Cyclical Fiscal Capacity.” Journal of Public Administration Research and Theory 18 (1): 139–159. Hou, Y. L., D. Moynihan, and P. W. Ingraham. 2003. “Capacity, Management and Performance: Exploring the Links.” American Review of Public Administration 33 (3): 295–315. Kaihara, Toshitami. 2009. Hyogoken chiji no Hanshin-Awaji Daishinsai: 15-nen no kiroku [The Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake by Hyogo Prefecture Governor: 15-Years Documents]. Tokyo: Maruzen. Katayama, Yoshihiro. 2006. Sumukotoha ikirukoto [Your Home Is Part of Your Life]. Tokyo: Toshinto. Kaufman, H. 1969. “Administrative Decentralization and Political Power.” Public Administration Review 29 (1): 3–15. Keynes, John Bernard. 1936. The General Theory of Employment, Interest, and Money. New York: Harcourt Brace. Knight, B., and A. Levinson. 1999. “Rainy Day Funds and State Government Savings.” National Tax Journal 52 (3): 459–472. Musgrave, Richard A. 1959. The Theory of Public Finance. New York: McGraw-Hill. Oates, Wallace E. 1972. Fiscal Federalism. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. Saez, E. 2005. “Top Incomes in the United States and Canada Over the Twentieth Century.” Journal of the European Economic Association, Papers and Proceedings 3 (2–3): 402–411. Saez, E., and T. Piketty. 2006. “The Evolution of Top Incomes: A Historical and International Perspective.” American Economic Review, Papers and Proceedings 96 (2): 200–205. Smith, Adam. 1776. Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of Wealth of Nations. 1880. Reprint, Oxford, U.K.: Clarendon Press. Sobel, R. S, and R. G. Holcombe. 1996. “The Impact of State Rainy Day Funds in Easing State Fiscal Crises During the 1990–1991 Recession.” Public Budgeting and Finance 16 (4): 28–48.

Coordinating Policy Toward Fiscal Preparedness for Natural Disasters   413   United States General Accounting Office (GAO). 1999. Budgeting for Emergencies—State Practices and Federal Implications. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office. Wagner, G. A. 1999. “Essays on the Political Economy of State Government Saving and the Role of Budget Stabilization Funds.” Ph.D. diss., University of West Virginia, Morgantown, W.Va. Wagner, G., and E. Elder. 2005. “The Role of Budget Stabilization Funds in Smoothing Government Expenditures Over the Business Cycle.” Public Finance Review 33 (4): 439–465.

Part 5

Comparative Responses to the Disaster Japan, China, India, and New Zealand

21

Experiencing Disasters in Two Places China’s 1976 Tangshan Earthquake and Japan’s 2011 Earthquake, Tsunami, and Nuclear Radiation Lisa Yinghong Li On July 28, 1976, at 3:42 a.m. local time, a magnitude 7.8 earthquake hit Tangshan, an industrial city of more than a million people in Hebei Province, China. Often referred to as the “second deadliest earthquake of all time,” the quake flattened the city of Tangshan in less than thirty seconds. According to official announcements of the Chinese government, about 240,000 people perished. The effect was felt strongly in a large area of northern China, including Beijing, roughly 180 kilometers away. On March 11, 2011, at 2:46 p.m. local time a 9.0 earthquake erupted roughly 130 kilometers off the coast of the Sanriku region in the Tohoku area of Japan. The quake generated a tsunami more than thirty meters high and caused Level 7 meltdowns at three reactors at the Fukushima No. 1 nuclear power plant, also in the Tohoku region and the closest to the epicenter of the fifty-four nuclear reactors in Japan. Evacuation zones around the nuclear plant were extended from three kilometers to ten, and eventually to twenty kilometers. Close to sixteen thousand people died in this triple disaster of earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear meltdown. The disaster affects a huge area in Japan, including Tokyo, roughly 218 kilometers from Fukushima. I experienced both disasters in a similar fashion: slightly away from the disaster center but at the place where all central decisions are made. Though separated by thirty-eight years, during which time I have experienced living and teaching in universities in three countries—China, the United States, and Japan—I am able to see interesting parallels. What I have experienced as personal in fact has deep political implications. It is perhaps unfair to compare these two grand-scale disasters. The sheer power of nuclear radioactivity, the effect of which will continue far into the future, might render the Tangshan earthquake a different kind of disaster, one that seems less threatening and that seems to have reached a closure. Yet a closer investigation into how these two disasters are narrated and remembered yields tremendous insight into how political forces influence the overall effect of each story and how essential it is for the citizens to be able to see through the constructed framework of disaster narratives and seek real meaning from beyond the visible and obvious. In this paper I would like to examine parallel situations enabled by a meaning417  

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ful comparison of the two disasters. Specifically, in each case there was a political myth—China’s “man will surely defeat nature” myth and Japan’s “safety guarantee” myth—at work from the very beginning to ensure a certain smooth and optimistic progression toward eventual control of the disastrous situation. Yet the deeper reality is much less stable or coherent. The public is either kept in the dark or misled in regard to the real situation of the disaster by careful controlling of crucial information. Significant cover-up efforts have been employed to divert attention from ill preparedness. These parallels thus offer much insight into what mega-scale disasters signify and what lessons are to be drawn from errors that occurred in both cases.

Section One: Tangshan In 1986, in order to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the Great Tangshan Earthquake, a museum was built in the center of the newly resurrected city of Tangshan, rebuilt on the same ground where the earthquake had destroyed the city with energy equivalent to that of four hundred atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima (Tangshan Earthquake Memorial, http://www.tskzjng.com/). Initially called the Tangshan Earthquake Materials Display Museum, it was expanded and renamed the Tangshan Earthquake Memorial in 1996. In 2006 it was remodeled again on a larger scale and a permanent exhibition was installed, entitled “Exhibition of Tangshan’s Achievements.” A glance of this museum from its website gives a clear impression that despite the unimaginable loss, the tragic episode is now regarded as a battle that was won by the brave people of Tangshan. The main themes of the ten sections of the museum offer much insight into official interpretation of this disaster: “Earthquake Relief, Magnificent Effort”; “Disaster Prevention, Benefit the People”; “Develop Science, Leapfrog Development”; “Harmonious Society, Prosperous Civilization”; “Making Blueprint, Re-create Splendor.” As for the content in this museum, one observer states: “Among the nine exhibition halls, eight are about achievements of the New Tangshan, only one hall has something to do with the earthquake” (CRI Online 2012). The overall triumphant tone is undeniable, and the emphasis is on the result of this disaster: one of the captions in the section, entitled “Resurrection of the City Began,” uses the metaphor of a phoenix being reborn. The Tangshan earthquake is presented as a “humanity will defeat nature” story, which is an official narrative constructed in typical socialist realist mode in terms of the general triumphant tone, the use of a rhetoric of unrelenting political arrogance propelled by a clear political ideology of the Communist Party. The entire populace of Tangshan is viewed as heroes who are able to stand up from the ashes and rebuild a “city of bravery.” The theme of human beings’ capacity to defeat natural disaster is part of a larger ideology whose central concern is politics. When the earthquake hit in 1976, China was reaching toward the end of a disaster of another kind: the Great Proletariat Cultural Revolution. At that time the sole concern of the whole nation, from Chairman Mao down to each member of the masses, was how to carry on the political revolution instigated in the 1960s. A common slogan of the time dictated: “Politics dominates everything else.”

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Right after the quake an article from the authoritative media source the Xinhua News Agency, published in the People’s Daily, which was one of the few media sources available to the general public, had this heading: “Strong Earthquake Hit Tangshan and Fengnan Area in Hebei Province—Under the Leadership of Chairman Mao’s Revolutionary Course, People of the Disaster Area Undertake Disaster Relief with the Revolutionary Spirit of Man Will Surely Defeat Nature” (Lei 2012). There are a couple interesting points in this awkwardly long but carefully phrased headline: the word “Revolutionary” appears twice and the set phrase “Man Will Surely Defeat Nature” summarizes the tone of the disaster relief effort: that this is a political struggle rather than an encounter with nature. This becomes very clear in another commentary from the Red Flag, the theoretical magazine of Chinese Communist Party policies and propaganda, which came out on July 31. Entitled “Man Will Surely Defeat Nature,” the article refers to the disaster relief as a “struggle of earthquake resistance and disaster relief” (Lei 2012). For the politically trained Chinese of that era, the word “struggle” is immediately associated with “class struggle,” thus putting the disaster relief work at the same level of political urgency. The article strikes a very high note of positive response to this disaster, and emphasizes this is part of the general belief of the ultimate triumph of communism. It also seems to have reached a conclusion for this disaster. Part of it reads: Under the guidance of Chairman Mao’s revolutionary course, the party, the government, the military and the people have united in the struggle of disaster relief, full of confidence, staunch and calm, brave and indomitable. Quick support has come from all over the country: great amounts of medicines, food, clothes, building materials, and other goods and machinery are continuously transported to the disaster area, painting a spectacular picture of united battling. Many glorious and moving achievements have occurred, beaming with communist spirit. This, again, illustrates that any serious natural disaster can be defeated, as long as there is Chairman Mao’s proletariat revolutionary course, brilliant leadership of Chairman Mao and the central party, proletariat-led socialism; heroic people who have been forged in the Cultural Revolution and the Movement of Denouncing Lin (Biao) and Confucius, and people who are marching forward in triumph in Denouncing Deng (Xiaoping) and the Repulse of Right-Deviationist-Verdict-Reversal Movement. (Tianzhongtian 2008) The article mentions the disaster only in slight and vague phrases, such as “the serious disaster indeed has created a certain degree of difficulty for us.” As pointed out by Lei Yi, a researcher at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, around this time information regarding specific numbers of casualties, deaths, damaged buildings and properties, and areas affected were all categorized as “national secrets” (Lei 2012). In fact, the official number of fatalities from the quake was not published until three years later, in 1979. And the numbers proved to be controversial. Many online

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sources contend that “the number of deaths initially reported by the Chinese government was 655,000” (Stevens, n.d., 16, 18). This has been revised to 240,000, which remains the official figure. “A certain degree of” difficulty or damage, as used in the article above, is a typical phrase used to report natural disasters—or for that matter any important news in China at that time. Many of the details of the quake would have to wait to be made public until years later. In fact, the first book that attracted great attention came in 1986, in the form of reportage literature, a genre well loved by the Chinese. It was The Great Tangshan Earthquake. The author, Qian Gang, took part in the relief effort after the quake and later spent a long time interviewing people who experienced the disaster. Several aspects make this book a “defiant voice” of the official narrative, even though it was not written as a critical assessment of the government’s or the people’s response and handling of the crisis. One, it challenges the pervasive heroism in the official narrative by honestly depicting how the ugly side of humanity took the better of itself: in the days after the initial shock and instinct for survival had passed, looting and “ fazhencai” (making a fortune out of the quake) intensified into something like a big social movement, a campaign for “gold digging” (Qian 1986, 156–158). The “Noah” story tells how a utopia of communal living in the immediate aftermath soon fell apart when people began to retrieve private goods from the ruins: an ideal situation approximate the coming of communism is a fragile reality easily shattered (Qian 1986, 170–177). A curious paragraph that serves as commentary on the situation in the aftermath of Tangshan states that people lived in a system of “military communism” (Qian 1986, 174). Rumor spread that Tangshan would become a trial city where commercial exchange of goods would be abolished and replaced by a “system of provision.” And yet, as the “Noah” chapter shows, the concept of “private ownership” eventually triumphed over equal communal distribution. This story of a fall from utopia to dystopia has an allegorical potential pointing to a deep political anxiety that had spread all over China since earlier in the year, when two of the founding fathers of the PRC, Zhou Enlai (1898–1976) and Zhu De (1886–1976), passed away. Zhou’s death, in fact, spurred the so-called Tian’anmen Democracy Movement that highlighted political instability apparently felt by ordinary Chinese of the time. Although the official media is very tight-lipped about political struggles that went on inside the party, rumors were rampant about Mao’s failing health and potential change. Historically great natural disasters have always been understood as indicating the need to change the “mandate of heaven.” The Tangshan earthquake thus had an extra dimension of meaning, collectively recognized but not voiced. According to Qian, earthquake fear was like a fever spread all over China, and about 400 million people in seventeen provinces and cities camped out on streets, in parks, and even on Chang’an Boulevard, which is where I also stayed shortly with my family (Qian 1986, 213). At the time, the Gang of Four seemed to have reached an unstoppable political stage. The eighty-three-year-old Mao was sick and had difficulties moving about (he eventually passed away in September). Even

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though he still had power in his hand, with the passing of Zhou and Zhu it was obvious that an era was approaching its end. With the fall of the Gang of Four and the end of the Cultural Revolution, a new era indeed was to begin. Nature and politics were intertwined in an ingenious, uncanny manner. The portrayal of how ugly the Tangshan area people behaved is a clear contradiction to the story of “bravery” and “indomitability” emphasized in the official rhetoric. Qian’s book also clearly demonstrates the extent to which ordinary Chinese people’s lives were politicized. The centripetal force of the political played a crucial role in many survivors’ fight with death. The numerous reiterations of “Long Live Chairman Mao” from survivors who relied on slogans from Chairman Mao’s little red book as spiritual support during the days buried under concrete strike an almost comic tone: the complete lack of irony on the part of these survivors highlights an absurd drama of political correctness. In Qian’s book, a subchapter called “The political 1976” lists various news reports around the world (Qian 1986, 178–187). Apart from expressing sincere concern, sympathy, and readiness to help, several governments reportedly waited to hear from China to see if relief aid offers would be accepted. The United States, Japan, and the United Nations all received rejections from China, whose foreign affairs office emphasized that “the Chinese people are determined to conquer difficulties with the spirit of self-reliance” (Qian 1986, 181). Chi Haotian, then one of the members at the Beijing Army District Earthquake Relief Headquarters, lamented to Qian in an interview: “that was our misjudgment” (Qian 1986, 181). Chi’s regret contrasts sharply with the attitude of one leader of the central government team sent to Tangshan in the aftermath, who told an excited hand-clapping crowd: “Foreigners want to come to China to offer help. PRC, formidable as we are, does not need others to meddle. We don’t need others’ support” (Qian 1986, 182). Qian Gang remains an objective listener throughout the book, and he never ventures into political activism, at least not openly or directly. The book, however, is often filled with questions that seem rhetorical and information that seems casually given but ripe with serious implications, such as when he writes about the story of Qinglong County, where preparedness seems to have saved everyone’s life despite serious damages to properties. This so-called Qinglong miracle remained unknown even to many people in Tangshan until 2005, when it became the focus of another important book, Admonitions from Tangshan (Tangshan Jingshilu), written by Zhang Qingzhou. Zhang, a member of the prestigious China Writer’s Association and the China Reportage Literature Association, is a Tangshan native who experienced the quake in person. Like Qian’s book, this is reportage literature, the result of years of interviews, research, and a five-year forced hiatus during which time the book was denied publication (CRI online 2012). A quick look at the book title and chapter titles will show a different assessment at work. The word “Jingshi” in the title can be translated as “cautions to the world,” which follows the tradition popularized by the Ming vernacular writer Feng Meng-

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long. History is regarded as a mirror that exposes dark areas of contemporary society and has a specific purpose to offer moral lessons. The final chapter refers to the earthquake as a “tragedy,” which forms a sharp contrast to the official rhetoric as represented by the memorial museum. Zhang’s book reveals an interesting fact. The Qinglong story became known to the public due to foreign effort. Dr. Jeanne-Marie Col, who as a member of the United Nations Department of Development Support and Management Services and the Global Programme, heard of this in Beijing in 1995 and led a UN team to investigate in Qinglong in 1996 (Col 2007). The “miracle” refers to the fact that despite having 180,000 buildings damaged by the quake, not one person in this county of 470,000 died in the earthquake (Global Programme, http://www.globalwatch.org/ ungp/qinglong_intro.htm). The explanation for the “miracle” was simple: a few individuals defied official orders and risked their political careers by intentionally leaking the results of research done by local earthquake prediction institutions that “there will be an earthquake above scale 5 in Tangshan, Luanxian, area from July 22 to August 5.” The Qinglong leadership had been incredibly conscientious about educating people in this county to prepare for large-scale earthquakes. Once the alert was issued, everyone knew exactly what to do to survive. Qinglong’s story, in fact, was reported as early as August 1976 in a briefing published by the Hebei Science Committee. Immediately after, however, the briefing was retrieved (CRI Online 2012). Several things become clear: roughly accurate predictions about the earthquake had been made by people in various local institutions, and the China Seismological Bureau knew or should have known about these predictions. If preparedness saved Qinglong, could it have saved Tangshan? Less than two weeks before the quake, a national conference on earthquake prediction and prevention had been held in Tangshan. At this meeting Wang Chengmin, head of the Beijing-Tianjin Earthquake Analysis and Report Division under the China Seismological Bureau, who was aware of the predictions, wanted to report about this at the conference but was told to only talk about it in a casual manner, during the evening’s informal discussion time and “not represent China Seismological Bureau” (CRI Online 2012). More puzzling was that public officials in the Tangshan area had been alerted in 1974 through State Council Document No. 69, which stated that in the next year or two an earthquake of magnitude 6 or greater will hit the North China–Bohai regions, to which Tangshan belongs (Qian 1986, 242; Col 2007, 10; Grossi et al. 2006, 2). In a book compiled by China’s Seismological Bureau and published in 1988, The Great Tangshan Earthquake of 1976, the writers explain: “The governmental department involved will decide whether to issue the warning or not. Only the State Council and the provincial government involved are empowered to make the warning. In the case of extreme emergency county governments are allowed to issue the warning. In the case of Beijing, the capital, warning announcements of earthquakes of magnitude 5 and above need special approval from the State Council. No person or department is allowed to make an announcement in private, or in any way, until

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the decision to make the announcement public is made, otherwise they face a severe penalty” (Chen et al. 1988, 134). “Facing severe penalty” is the bottom line that explains the hurdles and slow pace that both Qian and Zhang endured in their interviews: many were hesitant to talk, some were embarrassed and dismissive (of the negative aspects), many others probably refused to remember. The urgency that a severe earthquake was pending above Tangshan, threatening the city’s existence, seemed to have stopped short of reaching the very top of Chinese decision-making groups in time. Even after the earthquake hit and shook Beijing into a frenzied reaction, the exact location of the epicenter was not known to Zhongnanhai until more than three hours later, when an ambulance arrived from Tangshan. A survey of Internet blogs in Chinese on this topic will easily lead to questions, such as: Is Tangshan earthquake a natural disaster or man-made catastrophe? Another important yet largely hidden plot in the earthquake story is the accurate prediction of a 7.3 magnitude earthquake in Haicheng, Liaoning, in 1975 (Qian 1986, 212; Grossi et al. 2006, 2). Hailed as a great victory even among foreign seismologists, this helped create another part of the myth that big earthquakes can and will be successfully predicted. After the Tangshan earthquake, people found an easy scapegoat in everyone that worked at the Seismology Bureau. The extreme anger directed collectively at the bureau and its people increased disappointment on the surface, and in the unconscious mind led to a loss of faith in the communist belief that people will defeat nature. One wonders if the incredible effort that the Chinese government put into rebuilding the city of Tangshan might have been part of a psychological effort to “forget” this defeat. Among the photographs widely used to demonstrate how the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) was involved in the “noble efforts” of disaster relief in Tangshan is one that depicts the soldiers running in unity into the city, each with their sleeves rolled up and only a small shovel in their hands. Under the reprint of this photograph in The Great Tangshan Earthquake of 1976, a short paragraph appears: “Many rescue units in their haste to help, had gone in without bringing with them proper equipment or even food and water. They themselves became a burden for the stricken area” (Chen et al. 1988, 61). Despite—or perhaps because of—such shocking unpreparedness, the soldiers exhausted themselves to the point of death. Just like the survivors, everyone used their bare hands to dig anywhere voices could be heard from below. There was no clean water or sufficient food or medicine to talk of in the first few days after the shock, and the masses were left to fend for themselves. In fact, when summing up lessons of the quake, the authorities had this to say: “it is imperative for people to rely on themselves rather than wait for outside help.” This seems a contradiction to the PLA’s time-treasured policy of “Prepare for war, prepare for disasters for the sake of the people. We serve the people.” The Chinese people at that time had been trained to have complete trust in the government and its power to protect them. When the fierce rattling woke us up in Beijing, before jumping into the yard, my mother paused and thought: “if there was

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a big earthquake, the government said they would inform us.” This total trust in the government’s capability to take charge in times of disasters is another part of the general “politics as usual” story that Chinese were made to accept. In summary, the Tangshan earthquake serves to show how effectively the Chinese government had implemented its “politics above all” ideology among its people and how the government used the political myth of “man will defeat nature” to submerge human beings’ struggle with nature in order to comply with its total political command of the ordinary Chinese people. Since 1976, China’s change in its political system from socialism to state capitalism has enabled positive efforts in disaster management, as exemplified by the 2008 Wenchuan earthquake. At the same time, different sets of problems also emerged, such as enforcement of building resistance standards. In the case of the Tangshan earthquake, a new chapter full of ironic meaning is added in the form of a memorial wall completed in 2004 in order to commemorate the thirtieth anniversary. The wall is part of Tangshan Earthquake Ruins Memorial Park. Names of those who perished in the quake appear on the Tangshan Memorial Wall, on one condition: payment of one thousand Chinese yuan per name (Tangshan Earthquake Ruins Memorial Park, http://www.tseqpark.com/).

Section Two: Tohoku When the Tohoku disaster hit I was in my home in the west of Tokyo. It was during school vacation time (just like in 1976), so I was able to stay home during the few weeks of the aftermath. Unlike China of 1976, when media blackout was standard practice, the March 11 disaster received instantaneous media coverage. The Japanese media reported the disaster in a “remarkably calm” manner. In contrast to the “sensationalized” coverage in many foreign media, I was extremely impressed by the dignity, resilience, and peacefulness the Japanese media rightly accredited to Tohoku people. As the days passed, however, the increasing tension brought by the fear of nuclear meltdown began to slip through the overall calmness and orderliness. Friends and families showed their concern with long-distance phone calls of inquiry about our “departure” from Japan. We began to wonder if the official Japanese media was being too calm. Yet, again and again it seemed very clear that the general message from official reports was unanimous: “stay calm, there is nothing to worry about.” Government officials, the Tokyo Electric Power Company (TEPCO), and numerous experts could be seen on major television stations dispelling public fear with a serious and matter-of-fact attitude. The public was guaranteed there was no life-threatening danger and that everyone should just go about their “business as usual” (Time Out Tokyo 2011). All the television announcers assumed a similar tone of voice, as monotonous as possible. The public was assured that relief efforts were under way to help the victims, there was no shortage of water, rice, or any other daily necessities, and everything was being done to take care of the nuclear plants. In short, the disaster was completely under control. The official media coverage of the disaster, such as that of the NHK TV channel,

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could be put into roughly three categories: lives of evacuees/victims; experts and official figures explaining the “scientific” part of the nuclear power plant; announcements made by official figures from the government and those institutions involved. The majority of the coverage was exclusively on evacuees, while the real situation at the crippled nuclear power plant remained largely obscure. As I began to look for explanations on how media work in Japan, I found out that the official Japanese media’s calm approach to reporting is part of the general practice of “passiveness” (Johnston 2011, 34). This passiveness forms a sharp contrast with the Western journalistic policy of “informed skepticism” and seems to have stopped at collecting facts rather than seeking truths (Japan Times Online, October 23, 2012). By focusing exclusively on evacuees, public attention was diverted from the real threat of the nuclear meltdown. As has become widely known by now, this fear and knowledge of the nuclear meltdown was, in fact, the reality. The general calmness shown by leaders in various positions, then, was a constructed effort. Just like in Tangshan, a kind of media blackout was in place to prevent the public from knowing the real situation. Radioactivity became a word carefully utilized or even avoided. In fact, one media source was “forced by critics to apologize over its headline ‘Radioactivity Is Coming’” (Japan Times Online, October 23, 2011). In contrast to the heavy-handed political rhetoric that flooded Chinese official media after Tangshan, Japan used intentionally ambiguous language in discussions of the crisis. From the beginning, authorities used circumlocution to create a feeling of optimism for the public to believe that nothing out of the ordinary is happening (Japan Times Online, March 11, 2012). In Genpatsu Kiki to Todai Waho [The Nuclear Crisis and Language Usage of University of Tokyo], social ecologist Ayumu Yasutomi analyzes how speakers and experts, including then–Chief Cabinet Secretary Edano and many others who are Todai faculty members, who went on television after the disaster utilized a similar technique when talking about critical issues. Using rhetorical devices such as ignoring unfavorable points in the discussion, assuming an “uninvolved observer” position, or using verb endings such as “teki” (-like), the speakers “avoid[ed] committing to any suppositions of what might actually be happening at any given moment” (Japan Times Online, March 11, 2012). By using special terms in a condescending manner, speakers convey an assumption that the truth is beyond the capacity of the average listener to handle. Looking at the language used in the briefings given in the aftermath of the disaster confirms one simple fact: words of indefinite meaning, such as “appears to be” or “substantially,” were used again and again to talk about the Fukushima power plant problems, including meltdowns (Barraclough and Modi 2011). This careful manipulation of narrative techniques, however, cannot fully disguise the nervousness underneath the calm surface. It has since become common knowledge that what was going on among top people involved in creating the “business as usual” scenario was close to disaster itself. There is proof that authorities from the government and private sectors “misled the public.” In other words, the “nothing to worry about” narrative was ideologically based in its conception. The most crucial

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hidden plot was regarding the possibility of nuclear meltdown. A report released by the emergency headquarters a year later states that the government was aware of the possibility of nuclear meltdown at the Fukushima No. 1 power plant on March 11, the same day the disaster hit (Japan Times Online, March 16, 2012). From the beginning they were aware of the possibility of a leak of large amounts of radioactivity into the environment that would contaminate vast areas and a huge number of the populace. Yet it was not until May 2011 that TEPCO announced an estimate that “meltdowns occurred in three reactors” (Japan Times Online, March 16, 2012). Withholding crucial information from the public and misleading the public thus becomes a parallel device deployed in both China and Japan in times of grave disasters, although perhaps with different intentions. Partially it is a narrative strategy to conceal the fact of profound unpreparedness and lack of knowledge on the part of the government. With China’s strictly top-down, single channel of censored media, it is easy to conceal the extreme tension, chaos, and confusion among the decision-making officials in the immediate aftermath of a disaster. In Japan the situation becomes more complicated since, although much information is available, clear explanations are lacking. It is up to the individual to decipher real meanings and make intelligent judgments, which is inevitably difficult in the event of a mega-disaster. Everyone that stayed in Tokyo in the first few days after the disaster and relied on television stations, the mainstream media of Japan, will remember the episode regarding then–Prime Minister Naoto Kan’s visit to the Fukushima nuclear plant on March 15, 2011. The television image of Kan was of one who was clearly flustered, close to being furious. Yet the reason behind his decision to visit and his anger was not explained. It was not until a year later that the hidden plots of this story began to unveil. One side of the story claims that Kan had to intervene as he did because “top [nuclear] officials were unable to answer questions from the prime minister” (Japan Times Online, March 17, 2012). Another possibility is that there was genuine fear that TEPCO had thought of totally abandoning the endangered plant (Japan Times Online, May 31, 2012). TEPCO denies there was any plan for a full pullout and insists that this kind of government interference was to be blamed “for deepening the chaos” (Japan Times Online, June 29, 2012). Regardless of the final verdict of this episode, one thing is certain: it was a drama fueled by devastating discord among all crucial decision makers. From the decision makers’ point of view, the chaos and possible delay in the disaster management process caused by missing information, poor communication, and poor coordination were certainly issues that had to be hidden from the public. “Safety myth” is a term used in the report done by a government-commissioned panel in charge of investigating the nuclear crisis at TEPCO’s No. 1 nuclear power plant. The report states: “Because the government and the power utilities, including TEPCO, were biased by the safety myth, thinking they would never face such a serious accident, they were unable to realize that such a crisis could occur in reality. This appears to be the fundamental problem” (Japan Times Online, July 26, 2012). It indicates that both the government and the power industry are responsible for the

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failed preparedness in dealing with this serious incident. This myth seems to show that the nuclear power industry’s extreme overconfidence in the safety of nuclear energy is closely connected to a mentality that the worst-case scenario would never really occur. If the top decision-making bodies and regulators are trapped in this myth, then it is easy to imagine how it can become widely pervasive. This myth then works in a similar way to China’s “man will surely defeat nature” narrative. It creates a kind of unconscious mind-set in the populace to believe “trust us, everything will be all right.” This safety myth, however, is not just a nuclear safety question, but also relates to other problems as well. It is a common assumption that Japan is a country well prepared to deal with natural disasters and one of the most, if not the most, technically advanced and invested countries in the world in terms of earthquake prediction and prevention. Among other things, this has helped formulate an element of psychological dependency. Just like in China, where ordinary people assumed they could depend on their party’s ability to keep them safe, in Japan numerous preventative measures have given the ordinary people a perhaps unwarranted sense of safety. Considerably high tsunami walls have been built in many coastal areas to prevent tsunami waves from crashing inland and causing fatalities and damage, and various emergency warning systems have also been set up with the seemingly absolute guarantee that they will help with emergency evacuation efforts, the first step toward successful disaster management. Unlike in China, where dissent voices are severely purged and therefore no one is allowed to question the truthfulness of the “man will surely defeat nature” myth, in Japan many people have been aware of the serious effect of the safety myth. There have been many reports arguing that relying on safety measures, such as tsunami walls and early warning systems, is far from sufficient. Some even argued that building higher tsunami walls, setting up early warning systems, and so on constituted a practice of “paradox”—making people less aware of the dangers of the situation, even in places around the Sanriku region, which has had a history of severe tsunamis every hundred years or so. People became complacent about early warnings and thought the walls would protect them (Katada 2012). Just like China’s Qinglong story, seemingly shocking miracles also occurred in Tohoku. The stories of Kamaishi and Miyatojima offer good examples in the importance of being fully prepared and disregarding guarantees from official sources. They show a simple mind-set: human beings should be able to face natural dangers as they are, with a strong sense of awe and respect. That Kamaishi had a 99.8 percent survival rate among its schoolchildren was not a miracle, but a result of having this kind of mentality rather than simply relying on warning systems and evacuation maps. In the case of Miyatojima Island, the tsunami warning tower at Murohama was toppled in the quake. But the lack of an automated warning did not prevent the residents there from following the advice of a thousand-year-old local legend and running for their lives (Holguín-Veras 2012). In early August 2011, the head of Japan Meteorological Agency (JMA) acknowledged that their mistaken forecast issued on March 11 that

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a “3-meter-plus” tsunami would hit northeastern Japan “led to a slow evacuation” (Cyranoski 2011). In an age when faith in technology is taken for granted, there still is a need to incorporate conventional wisdom, oral histories, collective memories, and maybe even common sense. To incorporate historical accounts into scientific research is what quake researcher Masanobu Shishikura has done in leading his team at the AIST (Advanced Industrial Science and Technology) in Tsukuba, Ibaraki Prefecture. Considered by seismologists as a “minor” technique, Shishikura’s team approach is interdisciplinary, combining the study of “both soil layers and historical accounts to extrapolate quake cycles over hundreds of years” (Japan Times Online, March 11, 2012). Their research has shown a stunning parallel between the March 11, 2011, tsunami and the 869 tsunami in Tohoku, with the mega-quakes producing unbelievably high tsunami waves. Their findings, however, were released too late to save lives in 2011. Maps of the areas flooded in 869 were drawn up prior to March 11, with the intention of distribution. They showed flooding nearly identical to the flooding that occurred in 2011 (see Jogan tsunami in chapter 1). Just like in Tangshan, when numerous “amateur” predictions were made but failed to raise alarms, efforts like this were regrettably ignored. The good news is this research has initiated a “paradigm shift in Japan seismological studies over the past year” (Japan Times Online, March 11, 2012). The strongest impression these two disasters have given me comes from the differences between a closed system and a relatively open one. In contrast to China’s limited tolerance of dissent voices resulting in the long waiting time for the true story of Tangshan to emerge, in Japan from the beginning a wide range of voices have resisted and challenged the official story. One month after the quake, for example, fifteen thousand protesters gathered in Koenji, a neighborhood in west Tokyo—an event hardly reported by the mainstream media but nonetheless highlighting the existence of a culture of activism (Ozawa 2012, 8). From academic experts, journalists, and writers to ordinary farmers and housewives, different forms of protest have been enacted and numerous small narratives have been constructed to seek the answer to “what is happening?” Some even saw the “beginning of a grassroots movement that has reinvigorated activism in Japan and given birth to new forms of political resistance” (Ozawa 2012, 8). Names of radioactivists, such as Hajime Matsumoto (who runs the Shiroto no Ran “Amateur Riot”), Chigaya Kinoshita (a political scientist), intellectuals of various background such as Hirose Takahashi, Tomohiko Suzuki, or Yoshihiko Ikegami, or organizations such as Todos Somos Japon may not be familiar household names of long-standing activists, like Kenzaburo Oe, but they nevertheless represent the necessary and growing need for political participation that is the crucial step toward defying various myths of modern society, including the nuclear safety myth. This spirit has been rejuvenated in 2012 when consecutive antinuclear demonstrations pushed activism to a new level. It is also encouraging to know that by as early as July 2012, four separate investigations—one by the private sector, one by TEPCO, one commissioned by the Diet, and one completed by a government panel—have released their separate reports

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about the Fukushima crisis. Regardless of the differences in their interpretations and analyses of the crisis, this kind of practice is healthy and surely a source of envy for the ordinary Chinese people.

Conclusion As shown in both Tangshan and Tohoku, natural disasters of mega scale have the potential to become manmade disasters. TEPCO has insisted that the March 11 disaster was “beyond its expectations,” indicating that they could not have done anything to prepare for the disaster (Japan Times Online, June 29, 2012). Yet the official report given under the commission of the National Diet of Japan interpreted the March 11 disaster as a “manmade disaster” (National Diet of Japan 2012, 9). It is now March 2015, and almost four years have passed since the Tohoku disaster hit. The crisis at TEPCO’s Fukushima nuclear power plant is far from resolved. Treating contaminated water alone now seems to indicate “ongoing difficulties,” which will prolong the decommissioning process (Japan News by Yumiuri Shimbun Online, February 24, 2015). In February 2015, TEPCO announced “radioactive water had likely leaked into the sea through a gutter when it rained” (Schlanger 2015). TEPCO apparently kept this leak secret for months. Despite the ongoing crisis, the current Japanese government, headed by Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, “is pushing to bring back into service some of Japan’s 50 nuclear reactors, all of which are now closed as public concern lingers over their safety” (International New York Times Online, March 3, 2015). In the case of China, on June 6, 2012, the Associated Press reported that a statement issued by the China National Nuclear Power Corporation suggests that China is resuming its “nuclear industry building boom after being suspended” following the 2011 disaster in Japan (Yahoo Finance 2012). It seems that nuclear power will still be a source of energy and a presence in the lives of the ordinary people in Japan and China for a long time to come. It remains to be seen if the two governments can ensure that safety measures will truly be in place when the next mega-disaster occurs. Extremely careful scrutiny of possible dangers that natural disasters will cause is absolutely necessary. A competent level of preparedness is attainable, but it will require tremendous effort, not just from those who are in policy- and decision-making positions, but from every responsible individual seeking a lifestyle in harmony with nature.

References Barraclough, Theresa, and Manish Modi. 2011. “From Earthquake, Tsunami to TEPCO’s Battle to Prevent Meltdown: Timeline.” Bloomberg, March 18. http://www.bloomberg. com/news/print/2011-03-18/from-earthquake-tsunami-to-tepco-s-battle-to-preventmeltdown-timeline.html. Accessed April 8, 2012. Chen, Yong, Kam-Ling Tsoi, Chen Feibi, Gao Zhenhuan, Zou Qijia, and Chen Zhangli. 1988. The Great Tangshan Earthquake of 1976. Oxford, U.K.: Pergamon. Col, Jeanne-Marie. 2007. “Successful Earthquake Mitigation in Qinglong County During the Great Tangshan Earthquake: Lessons for Hurricane Katrina in the United States.” Chinese Public Administration Review 4 (1/2) (September/December): 9–20.

430   Lisa Yinghong Li CRI Online (China Radio International). 2012. “Tangshan Dadizhen Ershijiunian hou Jingren Jiemi” [Secrets Revealed Twenty-Nine Years After Tangshan Earthquake]. http://gb.cri. cn/3601/2005/10/19/[email protected]. Cyranoski, David. 2011. “Japan’s Tsunami Warning System Retreats: Lessons from Tohoku Wave Lead to Drop in Early-Warning Precision.” Nature Online, August 11. http://www. nature.com/news/2011/110811/full/news.2011.477.html. Accessed May 26, 2012. Global Programme. 1996a. “Qinglong County Case Study.” http://www.globalwatch.org/ ungp/qinglong_intro.htm. ———. 1996b. The Qinglong County Story: A Best Practice Case of Earthquake Preparedness in China. http://www.globalwatch.org/ungp/qinglong.htm. Grossi, Patricia, Domenico del Re, and Zifa Wang. 2006. The 1976 Great Tangshan Earthquake 30-Year Retrospective. Newark: Risk Management Solutions. Holguín-Veras, José. 2012. “Japan’s 1,000-Year-Old Warning.” Los Angeles Times, March 11. http://articles.latimes.com/2012/mar/11/opinion/la-oe-holguin-veras-tsunami-20120311. Accessed April 3, 2012. International New York Times Online. Jonathan Soble. 2015. “Japan’s Growth in Solar Power Falters as Utilities Balk.” March 3. http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/04/business/ international/japans-solar-power-growth-falters-as-utilities-balk.html?_r=0. Japan News by Yumiuri Shimbun Online. Kunio Kohinata and Kazuki Fujisawa. 2015. “4 Yrs On, Problems Accumulate at TEPCO’s Fukushima Plant.” February 24. http://news .asiaone.com/news/asia/4-years-problems-accumulate-tepcos-fukushima-plant. Japan Times Online. Anthony Fensom. 2011. “Documenting Disaster.” October 23. http:// www.japantimes.co.jp/culture/2011/10/23/books/book-reviews/documenting-disaster/. ———. Philip Brasor. 2012. “Public Wary of Official Optimism.” March 11. http://www .japantimes.co.jp/news/2012/03/11/national/media-national/public-wary-of-officialoptimism/#.Vn-xIzZYlIY. ———. Reiji Yoshida. 2012. “869 Tohoku Tsunami Parallels Stun: Research Team’s Efforts Set Precedent to Add History to Other Quake-Study Disciplines.” March 11. http://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2012/03/11/national/869-tohoku-tsunami-parallels-stun/#.Vn-xiTZYlIY. ———. 2012. “Kan Blasted Tepco, Said No Retreat from No.1.” March 16. http://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2012/03/16/national/kan-blasted-tepco-said-no-retreat-from-no-1/#. VoCBLTZYlIY. ———. Reiji Yoshida. 2012. “Kan Hero, or Irate Meddler? Jury Out if He Thwarted Tepco Pullout at No. 1.” March 17. http://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2012/03/17/national/ kan-hero-or-irate-meddler/#.VoCBaDZYlIY. ———. Kazuaki Nagata. 2012. “Alleged Plan to Pull No.1 Plant Workers Returns to Haunt Tepco.” May 31. http://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2012/05/31/national/alleged-plan-topull-no-1-plant-workers-returns-to-haunt-tepco/#.VoCBlTZYlIY. ———. Editorial. 2012. “Tepco’s Self-Justifying Report.” June 29. http://www.japantimes.co.jp/ opinion/2012/06/29/editorials/tepcos-self-justifying-report/#.VoCCBDZYlIY. ———. Editorial. 2012. “Obsession with a Safety Myth.” July 26. http://www.japantimes.co.jp/ opinion/2012/07/26/editorials/obsession-with-a-safety-myth/#.VoCCQDZYlIY. Johnston, Eric. 2011. The Tohoku Earthquake and Tsunami, the Fukushima Nuclear Reactor, and How the World’s Media Reported Them. Tokyo: Japan Times. Katada, Toshitaka. 2011. “No Miracle That 99.8% of the Schoolkids Survived: How the Children of Kamaishi Got Through the Tsunami.” Wedge Infinity. http://wedge.ismedia.jp/ articles/print/1334. Accessed March 1, 2012. Lei, Yi. 2012. “Shiqulishi Meiyoubeijing de ‘Tangshan Dadizhen’” [Aftershock: History Lost,

Experiencing Disasters in Two Places   431   No Background]. http://www.chinareform.net/special_detail.php?id=463. Accessed April 15, 2012. National Diet of Japan. 2012. The Official Report of the Fukushima Nuclear Accident Independent Investigation Commission. Tokyo: The National Diet of Japan, Fukushima Nuclear Accident Independent Investigation Commission. Ozawa, Eric. 2012. “The Fukushima Resistance.” The Nation, March 26, 6–8. Qian, Gang. 1986. Tangshan Dadizhen [The Great Tangshan Earthquake]. Hong Kong: Luzhou Chubanshe. Schlanger, Zoë. 2015. “Fukushima Has Been Leaking Radioactive Water Since May, But Tepco Didn’t Tell Anyone.” Newsweek Online, February 25. http://www.newsweek.com/ fukushima-has-been-leaking-radioactive-water-may-tepco-didnt-tell-anyone-309442. Stevens, Dakota. N.d. Ten Deadliest Natural Disasters of the Past Century, vol. 3, Tangshan Earthquake. (Paper edition of Wikipedia articles.) Tangshan Earthquake Memorial. http://www.tskzjng.com/. Tangshan Earthquake Ruins Memorial Park. http://www.tseqpark.com/. Tian, Zhongtian. 2008. “Huimou Quanwei Duanping” [Looking Back on Government Commentaries]. http://blog.kdnet.net/boke.asp?09876.showtopic.166622.html. Time Out Tokyo. James Hadfield. 2011. “Time Out Meets the Journalist Who Tepco Love to Hate.” April 1. http://tokyotom.freecapitalists.org/2011/04/03/interview-takashi-uesugitruth-telling-nyt-journalist-hated-frozen-tepco-japanese-government/. Accessed April 8, 2012. Yahoo Finance. Joe McDonald. 2012. “China Hints Nuclear Building Boom about to Resume.” June 6. http://finance.yahoo.com/news/china-hints-nuclear-building-boom-resume121637628--finance.html. Accessed June 17, 2012. Zhang, Qingzhou. 2006. Tangshan Jingshilu [Warnings from Tangshan]. Shanghai: Renmin Chubanshe.

22

Liquefaction in the 2011 Earthquake in Japan and the Christchurch, New Zealand, Earthquake Responses and Challenges to Reconstruction Christine Mary Wilby Christchurch, New Zealand (NZ), was hit by a series of four major earthquake events, the first in 2010, then three more in 2011, each appearing some four to six months apart. The northeastern coastline of Honshu, Japan, was hit by one large event of a massive earthquake triggering a mega-tsunami, followed by severe immediate aftershocks, and irrevocable damage to a nuclear power plant. Both countries lie on the western rim of the famed Pacific “Ring of Fire”—earth’s highly volatile tectonic plate system (see figure 22.1). Both countries are prone to earthquakes, register thousands of small quakes yearly, and have suffered severe earthquakes in the past, and both countries will no doubt do so again in the future. It is no surprise that these two countries are extensively engaged in seismic research, and both have stringent earthquake building codes. Despite being generally well prepared for such events, the earthquakes caused massive and costly damage. The ten- to thirty-meter tsunami that hit Japan stretched a distance of 630 kilometers along the coastline, and reached five to ten kilometers inland (JMA 2011). It devastated the coastal communities, leaving little standing and causing enormous loss of life. In Christchurch, the earthquakes destroyed buildings from the foundations up with severe vertical shaking. The quakes destroyed 16 percent of all central city buildings (Weng et al. 2011, 239, 241). As a result of liquefaction in Christchurch’s eastern suburbs, mud gushed up through cracks and crevasses, tilting residential homes and pushing up concrete paths and walls. In both countries the earthquakes left people without homes, lacking basic amenities, in social and economic upheaval, and experiencing recovery rebuilds that will be decades in the making.

The Earthquakes Christchurch, a South Island east coast city with a pre-earthquake population of 380,000, was hit by a 7.1 earthquake at 4:35 a.m. on September 4, 2010, an event that triggered large earthquake clusters on February 22, June 13, and December 432  

Philippine Plate

Figure 22.1. Pacific Ring of Fire.

ring of fire

Australian Plate

Eurasian Plate

Cocos Plate

Antarctic Plate

Pacific Plate

Juan de Fuca Plate

Nazca Plate

North American Plate

ScotiaPlate

South American Plate

Caribbean Plate

Indian Plate

Australian Plate Antarctic Plate

African Plate

Arabian Plate

Eurasian Plate

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23, 2011, and thousands of significant aftershocks in between. Although in an earthquake-prone country, the Christchurch quakes occurred in an area considered relatively safe, and along hitherto unknown fault lines. All of the quakes were short and sharp, accompanied by tremendous booming sound effects, and (due to their shallow depth) presented as a thump and trampoline-like moment. As all the earthquakes were land-based events, there were no resulting tsunamis. Each cluster event caused extensive damage to infrastructure as well as to residential and commercial buildings, in particular the city’s many heritage buildings. Lateral spread buckled railway lines, caused meter-long rifts in the land and roads, landslips, and cracks and rock falls on the hills to the southeast. The major river in the city lost its bank in several places, the seaside communities sank, and there was extensive silt and mud ejection. Within a few days, and for at least two months after each event, enormous mountains of soil ejecta could be seen piled up by the roadsides for removal to a designated earthquake landfill. Although there were no deaths in three of the four quake sequences, the second occurred at lunchtime, causing massive destruction to the Central Business District (CBD) and 186 deaths, including those of twenty-eight Japanese language students studying in Christchurch at the time. The Sanriku earthquake occurred in a seismically active area. Sizeable foreshocks were recorded in the area on March 9, two days before the “big one” on March 11. As discussed elsewhere in this volume, the earthquake-induced tsunami wiped away cities, villages, farms, and livelihoods, sending hundreds of thousands of people into evacuation centers and causing a nuclear power plant disaster that resulted in radiation spillages and forced evacuations of all residents within a twenty-kilometer radius. Although Japan and Christchurch both suffered devastating earthquakes, the initial emphasis of reports in their respective media focused on different aspects: the tsunami and frightening nuclear accident in Japan, and liquefaction and the destruction of the CBD in Christchurch. The earthquake off the coast of Japan caused a mega-tsunami, affecting twenty prefectures. The earthquake also caused liquefaction damage in 184 locations, ninety-six cities, wards, towns, and villages in six prefectures, most notably two hundred kilometers south in the North Kanto Prefecture of Chiba, and in Tokyo and Kanagawa Prefectures (JMA 2011). Christchurch, a sprawling city of 1,426 square kilometers, was hit by earthquakes that could be felt throughout the Canterbury plains and for about 1,164 kilometers up and down the country. The second, smaller 6.3 quake on February 2, 2011, with its epicenter just eight kilometers to the southeast and at a depth of five kilometers, hit almost directly under the city center and caused significant damage to buildings. The nearby Port Hills, in which there were significant cliff slippages, rose 50 millimeters in places, and several new fault lines opened up in a west-east direction across the Canterbury plains, and out to sea (GeoNet 2011, GNS, NZ). However, outside the destruction of the CBD, Christchurch’s most extensive damage was from liquefaction. The remainder of this paper will focus on the plight of two cities that suffered similar levels of liquefaction, Christchurch in New Zealand and Urayasu in Japan.

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Liquefaction Liquefaction, when soil becomes weak and watery, occurs naturally in low-density, uncompacted, sandy soil, such as can be found along streambeds, beaches, dunes, and areas where windblown silt and sand have accumulated. It can also occur in insufficiently drained swampy areas and in landfills developed for residential and commercial development. It can also be caused by earthquake movement (see figure 22.2.). Residents often favor river and beach areas, as they come with beautiful views. However, liquefaction results in the soil being unable to support any building weight, thus the liquefied soil (ejecta) causes significant lateral spread (sideward movement or movement toward a river source), land subsidence (sinking), and resultant tilting of buildings. Liquefaction pushes up underground infrastructure, such as electrical wiring, manholes, sewerage, and water pipes. It also causes significant damage to roads, bridges, and river levees. Much of the liquefaction damage in Chiba, and in the Tokyo Bay areas, occurred in the 1968 to 1980 land reclamation areas (Towhata et al. 2012; Tokimatsu and Katsumata 2012), and according to the Japan Meteorological Agency (JMA), 86 percent of Urayasu City was affected by liquefaction (see figure 22.3). In Christchurch, 80 percent of the earthquake damage was from liquefaction occurring around the east section of the Avon River, which winds through the city to the sea. This area is a geologically young swampy marshland. It was drained for farming and residential development only 160 years ago. Liquefaction also occurred in Kaiapoi, a satellite town built along the banks of the swampy Kaiapoi River (GeoNet 2011). Water-saturated Sediment

Water fills in the pore space between grains. Friction between grains holds sediment together. Figure 22.2. Process of Mud Liquefaction.

Liquefaction

Water completely surrounds all grains and eliminates all grain to grain contact. Sediment flows like a liquid.

436   Christine Mary Wilby area where liquefaction occurred

Urayasu

Saitama

Tokyo

Chiba

Metro Expressway (Bayshore Route) JR Keiy oL

Kanagawa Chiba

Urayasu city govt.

Shin-Urayasu Station

ine

Maihama Station

Tokyo Disney Resort

Tokyo Bay

Figure 22.3. Urayasu Liquefaction Area, Japan.

Although only 3.8 percent the size of central Christchurch (about the size of the five liquefaction-affected residential areas), Urayasu, a city of 163,013 people, offers the most comparative example to Christchurch, as nine thousand residential homes were affected by liquefaction there (Towhata et al. 2012). Around seven thousand of the ten thousand homes in Christchurch were damaged by the effects of liquefaction. Like Christchurch, built around the Avon River, Urayasu is on the delta of the Edo River, which separates it from the Edogawa area of Tokyo. The city has two distinct districts: the old fishing village area, dating back to the Tokugawa period, and the new area (Shin[new]-Urayasu), which was largely manmade from landfill in the 1960s and 1970s. The city is laid out in a grid pattern similar to Christchurch and has wide streets, large sidewalks, palm trees, and parks. Its spaciousness and proximity to Tokyo (a twenty-minute train ride) make it a popular location for young families (http://www.city.urayasu.lg.jp). Nevertheless, it suffered significant liquefaction as a result of the Sanriku earthquake. Photograph 22.1 shows some of the damage from liquefaction in Christchurch.

Photo 22.1. Christchurch Road liquefaction. (Photograph courtesy New Zealand Defence Force)

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Initial Response The immediate response in both cities to the disasters was to prioritize the safety of the citizens. Urayasu suffered significant infrastructure damage due to liquefaction, and responded much as did Christchurch—with considerable effort from citizen and volunteer helpers in the clearing and removal of liquefaction ejecta, and with emergency assistance to those in need. Locals removed ejecta from their properties and streets, and local government collected and deposited it at the end of no exit streets and in other designated areas. Since water and gas mains were extensively damaged, the city provided emergency rations and sanitation facilities to families. In Christchurch, the initial response also included cordoning off the CBD into a no-go zone and moving in the army to assist police and rescue workers (see figure 22.4). Within hours of all quakes, the City Council initiated emergency repairs and

0 0

5 5

10 miles 10 kilometers

Pegasus M 7.1 main shock 4 September 2010

Bay

M 6.3 aftershock 22 February 2011

Christchurch (CBD)

Banks Peninsula Lake Ellesmere

Magnitude 3.0 - 3.99 4.0 - 4.99 5.0 - 5.99

Active faults Earthquakes since Feb. 22nd Earthquakes before Feb. 22nd

6.0 - 6.99 7.0 - 7.99

Figure 22.4. Earthquake Magnitude in Christchurch, New Zealand.

Greendale Fault Sub-surface fault rupture

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efforts to restore basic services, such as electricity, running water, stormwater drains, sewerage, roads, and traffic thoroughfares. In residential areas, residents, neighbors, the “Student Volunteer Army” (formed by social networking), the “Farmy Army” (local farmers), and other citizen volunteers pitched in tirelessly to clear silt, along with contractors who were, by government ordinances in their contracts, required to provide machinery and manpower to help with the cleanup. The initial response teams did an amazing job, helping not only to clean the area four times, but also in keeping up community spirit. The cleanup created a daunting task in each city, due to the degree of liquefaction damage, and it soon became apparent that not only were many of the houses in the areas of intense liquefaction too badly damaged to be repaired, but the land itself was also beyond repair, rendering habitation impossible in some cases. In Christchurch, such properties are referred to as the “red zones”—an indication of obligatory abandonment. Each country’s national and local governments have responded to the plights of residential areas affected by liquefaction somewhat differently.

Government and Community Response Christchurch New Zealand has taken a highly centralized response, as it has a national natural disaster and insurance fund, which includes earthquake events. This insurance is funded by companies and is subsidized with allocated tax revenues. Thus, all insured New Zealand properties are automatically insured for earthquake disasters. Initially, control of earthquake recovery was exercised by the Christchurch City Council (CCC), with national government assurances of support from the Earthquake Commission (EQC). However, after the second and most damaging earthquake, control was assumed by the government-appointed Canterbury Earthquake Recovery Authority (CERA), which was established on March 29, 2011, and empowered with the ability to make and change laws (including rezoning of rural land for housing development) and to enact other measures to speed up the recovery process. A subdivision of this body, the Christchurch City Development Unit (CCDU), was formed in April 2012 and tasked specifically with providing a rebuild plan for the CBD within one hundred days, which it did. The plan was unveiled in late July 2012 for public discussion (CERA 2012), and is now in the implementation stage. The EQC and CERA were tasked with overseeing the recovery and rebuild, and of managing the return sale of damaged lands to the crown after the government made the decision to acquire all the damaged lands in the red zone, either in a direct deal for land and improvements (buildings) or in conjunction with the owners’ insurance company, where the crown covered the land and the insurance company the improvements. The EQC took on the enormous task of inspecting and categorizing every building in Christchurch for eligibility for the government buyout, and for assessing the damage of all affected buildings for earthquake compensation. Using a “traffic light” system, building inspectors were sent to each home over a period of

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many months, and each place was given an initial categorization—green zone indicating no major problems, orange zone for further investigation, red zone meaning the land was not repairable, and red sticker requiring immediate obligatory evacuation. Official information and forms for house and contents compensation were sent to all homes, and it was left to homeowners to file their claims. White was given as a special category for the Port Hills Suburbs, with a red 124 sticker indicating obligatory evacuation—in most cases due to the dangers of rock falls. Red sticker evacuation was strictly enforced, in some cases with residents being evacuated by the armed forces without time to retrieve possessions. One of the biggest frustrations in completing the task of inspections was the continuing aftershocks, the largest of these each being classified as separate events and therefore subject to EQC remuneration. The additional inspections and the separate filing of new compensation claims considerably extended the time factor in land zone categorization decisions. The resultant on-going uncertainty among Christchurch citizens as to the status of their homes had a devastating effect on their stress levels and the rebuild of their city and lives. As time progressed, the zoning classification was fine-tuned and the color-coded Technical Category (TC) system was established. A TC1 (green) category indicates safe land, as does TC2 (yellow), although building consent codes are to be tightened for future TC2 land and building developments. Land designated as TC3 (blue) is required to undergo remediation before repairs to existing properties, or before any new developments can be made (CERA 2012). The government system is by all accounts generous; however, it is not without difficulties, which continue to impact both individual residents and communities. First, the areas and degrees of liquefaction were not uniform, and this resulted in seemingly bizarre classifications, such as one side of a street being zoned red and the other green. Second, the red zone buyout was set at the 2007 rateable property value, and thus did not cover recent improvements to homes, and it was offered to owners only if they had property on their land. Many were “caught” in the process of building or purchasing land at the time of the earthquakes. Since undeveloped land cannot be insured, they did not qualify for the government land acquisition plan. After considerable negotiation, such owners have now been offered half the value of their land. A further issue still impacts many residents: insurance companies, operating independently, are classifying some houses on red-zoned or TC3 land as repairable rather than replaceable, leaving these residents with a house repair offer on land they are required to leave, or cannot easily sell, forcing them into either the less valuable government offer or accepting insurance offers that do not cover the costs of moving elsewhere in a city that now has inflated housing prices and an acute housing and rental shortage. This issue is causing considerable stress and financial strain and has resulted in long waits, stressful negotiations, and in some cases expensive litigation as residents fight for insurance payouts before they can embark on any repairs or moves. The housing situation is so tight that recently a trend has occurred in which TC3- and red-zoners with damaged but liveable land and homes

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sell their properties “as is,” or sell their homes for relocation to other sites. City taxes were waived for forced evictions, and reduced up to 40 percent for other red-zoners only until June 2013, and now many residents find themselves paying taxes on land they cannot build or live on while attempting to restart elsewhere. Since many redzoned landowners with only minimal damage to their houses want to remain in their homes, even though insurance companies will not reinsure them, the EQC has recently agreed to allow some reinvestigations and challenges to the Technical Category classifications. The process is further compounded by insurance companies, many from overseas, procrastinating on payouts, by tardiness on payouts from the EQC, and by CERA seemingly being more interested in restoring the CBD. Perhaps one of the most poignant of all disaster casualties is the plight of the elderly residents of the six hundred retirement village units that were red-zoned. Many of these residents are advanced in age and now find themselves relocated to public facilities in faraway cities, or facing financial inability to rebuild their lives due to the inflated costs of new units. The process of zoning and recovery has been and still is a long and arduous one, creating a test of patience and fortitude for thousands of families. To date, there are still people living in temporary housing, converted garages, and caravans as they await their fate as dictated by their zone category and their insurance companies. Those looking for repairs or rebuilds find themselves tied to a government-appointed construction company, long waits for their turn, and EQC payouts, and in some cases unsatisfactory repairs. There is a chronic rental shortage, especially for short-term leases as house repairs are carried out, and as subsequent changes resulting from the closing or amalgamating of schools has impacted some families, even now many people in Christchurch are still waiting to get their lives back on track. The plight of the people is such that they often cannot see the progress or overall picture of recovery that is in fact occurring, as evidenced in the rebuild progress in the CBD, infrastructure repairs, the building of twenty-one hundred new houses (Mortgage Express 2015), and a 94.8 percent repair achievement on sixtyeight thousand damaged homes.

Urayasu In addition to maintaining emergency assistance to residents, Urayasu also set up a system for classification of damaged residential land: no damage, slight damage, moderate damage, and extreme damage. Although the country rejoiced that Tokyo Disneyland (in Urayasu) was undamaged due to prior land mitigation, such as the compacting of land before development, unfortunately, many of the residents living in this area had not been so prepared and have homes that, while not structurally damaged, are on land that has suffered lateral spread and subsidence due to liquefaction, and are consequently tilting. Residents have not been eligible for any city or national public buyouts (Towhata et al. 2012), but they can apply for geotechnical inspections and for certificates of proof of damage to qualify for emergency compensation. Residents must pay for these inspections themselves, although the city office is offering free consultations to help them organize this.

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The national government has provided emergency financial assistance to local city government offices for distribution to its citizens, or to be used as they see fit, but does not appear to have any direct involvement in the field; thus local governments are managing on their own. In the case of Urayasu, the amount of compensation for residents with damaged homes is allocated based on the inspection certificate of proof of damage. According to Fukue (2011), few people have applied for this certificate classification, and compensation is as little as 1 million yen (US$13,000 at the 2011 exchange rate). For the most part, the issue of repairs and costs, or of relocation for residents affected by liquefaction, is left very much up to the individual, or to the cooperative they may live in if the building is an apartment or commercial block. Residents in an apartment block or community must each agree to the type of repair (Towhata et al. 2012), file an individual claim, and pay their share from the collective building insurances individually. In most cases either the repair is too expensive, agreement too difficult to coordinate, or the land or building repair itself too difficult to make. The issue is further compounded by the fact that only about 30 percent of all private households have the very costly earthquake insurance, and by a lack of open space land in Urayasu for relocation (Japan Property Central 2011). Rebuilding on a new location would leave residents with two mortgages, since they would still own their abandoned land until such time as they could sell it. Since even small-scale reconstruction is difficult due to the density of housing in Urayasu and it is impossible to accomplish large-scale demolition of housing for the purpose of land remediation, many residents are resigned to existing in their present conditions for the time being. Unsure how to choose and proceed with repairs, residents are being offered free consultation on repair options at the city office, but others are turning to the more traditional methods of Hikiya [house stabilizing] for repairing existing houses on site, rather than considering a rebuild (Okamoto 2012). Some residents will be paying in excess of 10 million yen (US$130,000 at the 2012 exchange rate) of their own savings for repairs, or through loans if they are attainable, and that despite the significant health risks of headaches and dizziness resulting from living in tilted and damaged homes, many are not repairing their homes at all, believing such repairs to be too costly in the face of possible future earthquakes. Some have contemplated leaving, but Urayasu, which hosts over three thousand foreign residents, according to the city website, remains an attractive place to live, and as of 2012 only 1,423 people had left, many doing so as a result of their companies moving offices to other areas. Urayasu was fortunate in that many of its high-rise buildings, with state-of-the-art earthquake technology, were structurally unaffected. However, Japan Property Central (2011) has reported that fewer people are willing to live in high-rises, favoring solid land over beautiful sea views, and that there has been a 6+ percent increase in the price of liquefactionfree property for sale. More recently, twenty-three families decided to sue their building construction company for selling them properties on unfortified land or buildings with insufficient foundations and structural strength (ibid). The issues

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of responsibility for the reconstruction of present houses and the need for clearer and more accurate requirements and disclosure of land conditions for building are matters that are now facing the residents and local government alike. Urayasu City offered tax reductions of up to 40 percent to residents until April 10, 2014, based on the damage indicated on their inspection certificates, and financial help to a maximum of 30 million yen is being offered to residents and condominium owners who undertake the reconstruction of water and gas pipes to and in their buildings (Urayasu city website). However, according to Towhata et al. (2012) most remediation of land will not occur until the buildings reach their thirtieth or so year, as this is the traditional life span of a house in Japan, after which it is usually demolished and a new one built on the same (in this case remediated) land. The Japan Times reported on September 1, 2014, that “the city’s water and electricity supplies have been restored, but [that] only 30 percent of roads and 60 percent of sewage systems have been repaired” thus far. No doubt the situation for residents in Urayasu is even more fraught with frustration and enormous personal expense than it is for the residents of Christchurch. Clearly, much research is still needed into the processes of liquefaction and into ways in which land can be fortified prior to residential development. Towhata et al. (2012) states that in the meantime “residents must persevere.”

The Wider Effects of Liquefaction and Earthquake Damage The earthquake damage to the CBD and heritage buildings in Christchurch has resulted in heightening awareness around the country of the earthquake sustainability of older buildings, and has led to a number of such buildings in other cities closing down for earthquake inspections and either reenforcement repairs or demolition. According to OneNews (August 12, 2012, 6:00 p.m.), fifteen thousand to twenty thousand residential buildings around the country are substandard, as are 8–10 percent of nonresidential buildings (about forty thousand). Although the Pegasus Bay coastline east of Christchurch is not considered a candidate for a large earthquake, the earthquake in Japan has heightened awareness of possible tsunamis, and Christchurch has now installed a first response tsunami warning system along the beach area five kilometers from the city center, and produced information brochures on tsunami preparedness (CCC website 2012). Furthermore, new subdivisions are being built using higher land standards, and heavyduty roller machinery can be seen around the city compacting land in TC3 areas to the level of at least TC2. Similarly, the issue of liquefaction damage in Urayasu, where buildings have survived but the land is damaged, has led to further anti-seismic and enhanced liquefaction measures, and to such measures as including emergency generators for elevators in high-rise buildings, where little structural damage was generally found to have occurred but elevator stoppages led to people having to climb multiple floors to enter and exit their homes.

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Hindrances to Recovery Christchurch is slowly recovering, but it is still stalled by an exodus of people and jobs to suburbs and neighboring towns, loss of tourism, and the slowness in rebuilds. Rebuilds are stalled largely due to the tardiness of insurance companies to pay out to, or to reinsure, a population of highly insured home and business owners. There is also indecision over how the city rebuild should look. The national government sees the reconstruction of the CBD as paramount, along with the creation of more jobs, while many of the local residents favor more effort being put into the construction of affordable residential housing. The city remains divided on the fate of its many expensive to repair and insure heritage buildings, and the national government seems quite willing to sacrifice them for progress. Since this hits at the identity and heart of the city and its people, many are beginning to feel ever more disenfranchised as the heavy-handed and greatly empowered CERA continues to dictate the government agenda. There are calls of “land grab” as CERA obliges the selling of private land for the CBD redevelopment, and of “guinea pig” as the government plans to reorganize the schools, closing eighteen and merging thirteen others—an act that is seen as very destructive to already fragile and battered communities, which, in New Zealand, mostly take their community cohesion from the local schools. The increasingly costly rebuild began in earnest in 2013 with the import of thousands of migrant construction workers—the housing and care of whom also causes issues for a city with a severe housing shortage. Now, after five years, some want to see more national government financial assistance given to local government, and more concrete progress. Although the residents of Urayasu are suffering from the opposite of an “intrusion” of too much central government control and would also welcome more financial assistance, Japan is facing similar housing problems on an even more massive scale, with some (mainly elderly) still living in temporary housing, or relocated away from their towns and villages. Although many say they would like to return to their hometowns, others have now reestablished themselves into life elsewhere and do not want another upheaval by returning. Thus, there are fears that many of the local cultures will not be reestablished for some time, if at all. The housing issue is compounded by the difficulty of finding land, of moving the rebuild to higher ground, and of residents (especially the elderly) being able to fund their rebuilds. While Urayasu is dealing with some cases of confusion over land ownership due to lateral spread and sunken tilted fences blurring boundary lines, farmers in the northeast have found there is not enough topsoil to farm due to it being washed away in the tsunami backdraft or being too salty, and chronic unemployment has forced people to leave many areas. Oikawa and Hara (2012) report that the mayor of Urayasu has considered dumping liquefaction ejecta into the sea, using it for landfill parks, and even transporting it for use in other devastated areas of the country. However, none of these plans has been realized due to a lack of information on the effects of such actions and the expense involved in transporting large amounts of soil. The Sanriku

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earthquake has been reported as the most costly earthquake in world history so far, and the Christchurch quakes are ranked third (Wood 2012).

Long-Term Recovery On a more positive note, both cities have established a future plan. In Christchurch, the city government has prioritized the rebuilding of libraries, sports facilities, playgrounds, and swimming pools—services that are especially appreciated by the elderly and the young, who are the most vulnerable of its residents. A “Restart” mall in the CBD has been established with colorful and cleverly arranged shipping containers, with simple but attractive landscaping. The containers are being used as shops and restaurants, giving the locals and tourists alike a place to go, and the popular “punting on the Avon” and other events, such as the Buskers Festival and sports competitions, have been reestablished. A time frame for infrastructure repair has been set, with a late 2017 deadline, and plans have been set for opening more of the CBD now that significant demolition of unsafe high-rise buildings has been completed. While extensive repair work to existing single home buildings and some cooperatives is a major disruption in some areas, Urayasu, mainly a service city to nearby Tokyo, is prioritizing repairs to infrastructure, particularly to roads, river levees, and sewerage and water systems. Disneyland was not badly damaged and reopened within five weeks of the disaster, and locals continue to hold traditional ceremonies. The city office announced its “reborn” plan, which aimed to complete all infrastructure repairs by 2014, but the recovery is still ongoing. Both cities maintain informative websites, with Urayasu offering information in five languages.

Conclusion There is now a greater understanding and awareness of the process and significance of liquefaction, not only among engineers and scientists, but also among the general population and property developers. The local city offices reaffirm the need for comprehensive planning, and of improved speed of emergency services and quality of long-term services. Politicians recognize the need for a national policy of clearer and more strictly enforced regulations for building on unstable soil or reclaimed land, and for a better balance of involvement and cooperation from the national government with local government in disaster situations. On a particularly heartening note, research in both New Zealand and Japan is showing that land affected by liquefaction, once resettled and redensified, is often stronger than it was before the earthquake, although according to Towhata et al. (2012) this requires more study, as not all areas will liquefy and resettle in the same way and the time frames for resettlement are not yet well understood. Liquefaction-affected landowners may find themselves with valuable properties yet again in the future. Without a doubt the local and national authorities in New Zealand and Japan are working tirelessly to get cities, homes, families, and individuals back on their feet—to be housed, to have employment, to return to “normal.” While it is up to the local cities and businesses to provide the infrastructure, to rebuild and provide jobs,

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it is up to the people themselves to reestablish the character and culture of the region. We can already see the people moving to stabilize their lives, to express themselves in poetry, art, the retelling of stories, the setting of new heroes and heroines, in the reconstruction of iconic buildings, and in the replanting of trees. In fact, we see people tirelessly involved in the creation of the “new normal.” It is hoped this “normal” will actualize long before the ten-year total recovery predictions.

Acknowledgment and Disclaimer 1. I acknowledge the New Zealand GeoNet project and its sponsors, EQC, GNS Science, and LINZ, for providing data and images used in this study 2. I acknowledge and thank the many news staff writers who have provided me with a daily and living knowledge of the Sanriku and Christchurch earthquakes, especially Japan News and the Online Christchurch Press in New Zealand. I have attempted to accurately and fairly reference all data sources where known. Should there be any misrepresentation of data, it is unintentional and entirely my responsibility.

References “2011 Christchurch Earthquakes.” Wikipedia. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011_christchurch_ earthquake. Accessed August 4, 2012. “2011 Tohoku Earthquake and Tsunami.” Wikipedia. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011_Tohoku earthquake_and_tsunami. Accessed August 6, 2012. CCC (Christchurch City Council) website. 2012. “GNS Science Briefing—1 pm, Friday 6 January 2012 Frequently Asked Questions,” reference “Tsunami,” http://www .rebuildchristchurch.co.nz/blog/2012/1/gns-science-briefing---1pm--friday-6-january2012-frequently-asked-questions. Accessed August 5, 2012. CERA (Canterbury Earthquake Recovery Authority). 2012. www.cera.govt.nz. Accessed August 7, 2012. ———. “Greater Christchurch Recovery Up-Date.” www.cera.govt.nz. Accessed January 10, 2013. Coulishaw, S. 2011. “Molehills of Silt Make Mountains of Dumped Waste.” Mail Press. March 2, 12:47. Staff photo. Fairfax, New Zealand. Daily Yomiuri. 2011. “No Solid Plans Yet for ‘Liquefied’ Soil.” August 25. Dalley, J. 2012. “Deadline Looms for Red-Zoners.” Christchurch Press. August 10, 13:22 p.m. Accessed August 10, 2012. GeoNet. 2011. “GeoNet Canterbury Quakes.” www.geonet.org.nz. Accessed August 4, 2012. Japan Property Central. 2011. “Does Your Apartment Building Have Earthquake Insurance?” June 15. http://japanpropertycentral.com/2011/06/does-your-apartment-building-haveearthquake-insurance/. Accessed August 18, 2012. ———. 2011. “Will People Still Buy High R ise Apartments?” August 17. http:// japanpropertycentral.com/2011/08/will-people-still-buy-high-rise-apartments/. Accessed August 18, 2012. ———. 2012. “Residents Suing Mitsui Over Liquefaction.” Februar y 4. http:// japanpropertycentral.com/2012/02/residents-suing-mitsui-over-liquefaction-damage/. Accessed August 18, 2012. Japan Times. 2014. “City of Urayasu Still Recovering from 3/11 Liquefaction Damage.” Kyodo. http://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2014/09/01/national/city-urayasu-still-recovering311-liquefaction-damage/#.VP_wqks_ulI. Accessed March 11, 2015.

446   Christine Mary Wilby JMA (Japan Meteorological Agency). 2011. “Earthquake Information.” www.jma.go.jp/ jma/.../2011_Earthquake/Information. Accessed August 11, 2012. Mortgage Express. 2015. “Moving Forward with New Construction—Mortgage Express.” Mortgage Express News. www.mortgage-express.co.nz. Accessed March 11, 2015. Nelson, S. A. 2012. “Earthquakes and the Earth’s Interior.” http://www.tulane.edu/~sanelson/ eens1110/earthint.htm, last updated on February 9, 2012. Accessed December 15, 2012. New Zealand Government. 2011. http://www.rebuildchrusthcurch.co.nz/contents/maps. Accessed August 12, 2012. Oikawa, A., and S. Hara (Yomiuri Shimbun staff writers). 2012. “Much Urayasu Liquefaction Damage Awaits Repair / Areas Near Major Roads Restored, but Tilted Houses, Rippled Pavement, Broken Pipes Still Widespread Problems.” Yomiuri Shimbun, October 18. Okamoto Naoya. 2012. “‘House Stabilizer’ (aka Hikiya) for People Who Suffered from Liquefaction-Fluidization Phenomena Caused by Massive Earthquake in Japan.” http://www. hikiyaokamoto.com/pg113.html. Accessed January 5, 2013. Siembieda, W. 2012. The Road to Recovery: How Japan, New Zealand and Chile Meet Their Disaster Challenges. February 5. http://revistaplaneo.uc.cl/2012/05/02/the-road-torecovery-how-japan-new-zealand-and-chile-meet-their-disaster-challenges/. Accessed July 31, 2012. Tapponnier, P., et al. 2011. “The Great Japan (Tohoku) Earthquake: Important Lessons from Old Dirt.” Earth Observatory of Singapore. March 21, updated June 16, 2011. http://www. earthobservatory.sg/news/great-east-japan-tohoku-2011-earthquake-important-lessonsold-dirt. Accessed January 10, 2013. Tokimatsu, K., and K. Katsumata. 2012. “Liquefaction-Induced Damage to Buildings in Urayasu City During the 2011 Tohoku Pacific Earthquake.” Proceedings of the International Symposium on Engineering Lessons Learned from the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake, March 1–4, 2012. Tokyo, Japan: Tokyo Properties Central, 665–674. Towhata, I., H. Kiku, and Y. Taguchi. 2012. “Technical and Societal Problems to Be Solved in Geotechnical Issues.” Proceedings of the International Symposium on Engineering Lessons Learned from the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake, March 1–4, 2012. Tokyo, Japan, 837–848. “Urayasu.” Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urayasu. Accessed August 12, 2012. Villemure, M., T. M. Wilson, D. Bristow, and M. Gallagher. 2012. “Liquefaction Ejecta CleanUp in Christchurch During the 2010–2011 Earthquake Sequence.” 2012 NZSEE Annual Technical Conference, April 13–15, 2012, Christchurch, New Zealand. Paper No. 131. Weng, Y. Kam, Stefano Pampanin, and Ken Elwood. 2011. “Seismic Performance of Reinforced Concrete Buildings in the 22 February Christchurch (Lyttleton) Earthquake.” Bulletin of the New Zealand Society for Earthquake Engineering 44 (4) (December): 239–279. http://www.scribd.com/doc/83023749/Seismic-Performance-of-RC-Buildings-in-ChchEarthquake-22-Feb-2011-Kam-Et-Al-NZSEE-2011. Accessed January 10, 2013. Wood, A. 2012. “February Quake ‘Third Most Expensive.’” Christchurch Press Online, March 30, 5:00 a.m. Accessed August 10, 2012.

23

Tamil Nadu and Tohoku The Two Tsunamis Pradyumna P. Karan For me the two tsunamis were personal. On December 26, 2004, a massive tsunami blasted across the Indian Ocean, cutting a swath of destruction through several countries and claiming a staggering 230,000 lives. Located in the southeast of India along the Bay of Bengal and the Indian Ocean, the Tamil Nadu coast was devastated. Several of my friends in Tamil Nadu suffered. A colleague on the faculty of Galle University in Sri Lanka and his family were washed away. During my stay in Japan and travels in Tohoku while collecting materials for the book Japan in the 21st Century, I made friends with several families in Futaba, Ishinomaki, Rikuzentakata, Ofunato, and Kamaishi. I remember sitting on the rocks by the sea in a little bay in Ofunato, now completely ravaged. As the images of devastation by the earthquake and tsunami came on my television and computer screens on March 11, I was overwhelmed by the magnitude of the destruction and suffering. I tried to contact my friends and discovered sadly that they were among the missing in Tohoku. Extreme events—the seismic shock, the tsunami—cannot be stopped. Yet the human consequences may be affected drastically by human actions before or during the episode. One challenge is to probe the natural processes at work. It is important, for example, to be able to estimate where extreme events will occur. Earthquake and tsunami surge zones, and other areas at risk, need to be identified. The other major challenge is to design and carry out measures that will alleviate human distress. Warning systems can alert people in the path of destruction. Evacuation procedures can guide them to safety. Buildings can be constructed to minimize earthquake damage. Land use can be planned to avoid flood-prone areas. These and other measures call for careful scientific and engineering research and for skillful application by informed individuals or government agencies in both India and Japan. We shall never be able to eliminate completely the hazard of losses from extreme events; but where life is at stake or heavy losses can be averted at reasonable cost, we should not be satisfied unless serious steps are taken to reduce the risks. The tasks of estimating vulnerability and applying practical measures illustrate three fundamental themes in geography. First, an area’s location sets the broad physical limits within which different events may occur. Second, each place has its distinctive combination of 447  

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Figure 23.1. Tamil Nadu Tsunami-Damaged Areas.

physical and human characteristics shaping the hazards to which it is vulnerable. Third, the evolving interaction of people and environment in each place affects the opportunities and the costs that the rampaging forces of nature will reap.

Geography, People, and Natural Hazards in Sanriku and Tamil Nadu While traveling in coastal Tamil Nadu, India, and Sanriku, Japan, and looking at the picturesque fishing villages, I came across my first material reminder of the intricate relationship between breathtaking geography, its people, and powerful natural forces in both regions. The tsunami disaster in Sanriku offers contrasts with the 2004 tsunami in coastal Tamil Nadu. Disaster in Japan illustrates that even a

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Figure 23.2. Tohoku Tsunami-Damaged Areas.

technologically advanced nation with hazard mitigation procedures cannot escape from damage by tsunami.

Sanriku, Japan The rugged Sanriku Coast of Tohoku is among the most beautiful places in Japan. The white stone islands outside the port of Miyako are magnificent. The Buddhist monk Reikyo could think of nothing more but paradise when he first saw them in the seventeenth century. It is the shore of the pure land, he is said to have uttered in

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wonder. Reikyo’s name for the place stuck. Pure Land Beach, or Jodogahama, is the main gateway to the Rikuchu Kaigan National Park, seashore of spectacular rock pillars, sheer cliffs, deep inlets, and narrow river valleys that cover one hundred miles of rural coastline. It is a region full of small, tight-knit communities of hardworking people who earn their livelihoods from tourism and fishing. Sushi chefs around Japan prize Sanriku abalone, cuttlefish, and sea urchin. On March 11, 2011, that coast was at the center of one of the worst disasters in Japanese history. Despite the investment of billions of yen in disaster mitigation technology and robust building codes, entire villages were swept out to sea (Pilling 2011). In some places, little remains but piles of debris and concrete foundations. Tsunamis are an integral part of the history of Japan’s Sanriku region. Waves swept the area in 1896, 1933, and 1960. The 1896 tsunami (Scidmore 1896) killed more than twenty thousand, and a place called Taro was almost entirely destroyed. Sanriku is also home to some of the world’s most elaborate anti-tsunami infrastructure, including concrete seawalls that transform seaside communities into garrison-like towns with limited views of the ocean. The seawall at Taro, a fishing town of forty-four hundred, was one of Japan’s tallest and longest. It was called the nation’s “Great Wall of China” by the government and news media. Its inner wall was reinforced by an outer one, and they stretched 1.5 miles across the bay. The surface was so wide that high school students jogged on it, townspeople strolled on it, and some rode their bicycles on it. For local inhabitants, the seawall was a source of pride, an asset, something that they believed in. The force of the tsunami waves were amplified by Sanriku’s distinctive geography. The same steep valley walls and deep inlets that make Sanriku so beautiful also make its villages and towns especially hazard-prone. The valleys channel a tsunami’s energy, pushing swells that are only a few feet high in the open ocean up to stunning heights. Fast-moving water topped 120 feet in one village in 1896. The shape of the coastlines in Tohoku may have amplified the power of the March 11 tsunami Up and down the saw-toothed coastline of Japan’s northeast, more than twenty thousand people died on March 11, 2011. The seawalls that surrounded at least 40 percent of Japan’s coastline crumbled in the face of nature’s fury. At Aneyoshi, a record breaking 132.5-foot-high wave, taller than Brazil’s Christ the Redeemer statue atop a peak in Rio de Janeiro, smashed apart the seawall and destroyed the fishing port behind. Thanks to an old stone tablet on a nearby hillside, erected as a warning after the deadly 1896 tsunami, no one in Aneyoshi erected houses close to the water, and none perished there on March 11. But many other communities failed to heed the lessons of history, and lived on the seafront behind manmade barricades. More than two hundred residents died in the Taro district of Miyako, to the north of Aneyoshi, where a massive coastal levee, thirty feet high, was built in the 1930s after another deadly tsunami.

Tamil Nadu, India The Tamil Nadu coastal plain was the worst affected region in India during the tsunami in December 2004. It comprises the delta of the Kaveri and lower courses

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of rivers forming broad shallow valleys. The coastal plain is wider in the deltaic region, and the shoreline is remarkably straight, with well-defined beaches of sand and shingles. Sand dunes form a conspicuous feature along the coast of Tirunelveli and are scattered elsewhere. The dunes carry a thin vegetation of palms and thorny scrubs. Most of the coastal plain is devoted to farming and has high population density. A high rural density is found in the coastal region between Pondicherry and Nagapattinam, comprising the Kaveri Delta and the lower Ponnaiyar and Vellar Basins, mainly because of fertile alluvial soils and irrigation facilities. Chennai, Cuddalore, Pondicherry, and Nagapattinam are principal urban centers. The villages are generally nucleated and compact, located near sources of water, such as wells, rivers, and tanks. Most villages have a rectangular pattern of streets oriented to a temple or tank. Fishing settlements dot the entire coastal plain. A massive earthquake on December 26, 2004, centered off the coast of Sumatra caused a series of deadly tsunamis in the Indian Ocean. Unlike Sanriku, people in Tamil Nadu had no tsunami warning and no experience with tsunamis. The damage was unprecedented, resulting in a death toll of about eight thousand in Tamil Nadu. The worst losses occurred in Nagapattinam district, where more than six thousand people were killed. Nearly 650,000 people had to move to safer places. The disaster affected women and children in particular: 75 percent of the fatalities were women and children. The tsunami waves destroyed villages, farmlands, fishing settlements, roads, and schools. An estimated 85 percent of the people affected by the tsunami in Tamil Nadu were from the fishing community. They suffered the brunt of the disaster, losing houses, livelihoods, household goods, and assets like boats and nets. Tamil Nadu had 591 fishing villages and 362 fish landing centers, which catered to the needs of small, mechanized fishing crafts and traditional boats. Of these, 376 villages were severely affected. The fisheries sector suffered major damage in terms of lives, boats, and gear and in terms of infrastructure, such as harbors and fish landing centers. Fishing activity in Kancheepuram, Cuddalore, Thiruvallur, and Nagapattinam has not yet completely recovered. Fishing was a significant contributor to Tamil Nadu’s economy, with marine fish landings estimated to be around 380,000 tons annually. About 58,000 tons of seafood, valued at about $480 million, were exported annually from the seafood processing plants located in Tamil Nadu. The tsunami had a significant impact on the livelihoods of other vulnerable groups, as well as many of those living below the poverty line. About one-third of the people affected were from the underprivileged and socially excluded groups, such as Dalits (the lowest caste in India). Affected groups such as Dalits, senior citizens, widows, and women, in most cases, were already marginalized and vulnerable. Despite good intentions, inequities surfaced during the tsunami recovery. Fortunately, there were many positive factors that enabled the inclusion of equity issues in Tamil Nadu recovery activities. A vibrant civil society, effective action by rights groups, and an enlightened government system was responsive to the demands of these groups. The damage that the tsunami caused to the environment was not apparent initially, but became more significant over time. Along the Tamil Nadu coast, con-

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siderable degradation of the fragile coastal ecosystems and coastal aquaculture has taken place (“After the Tsunami” 2005). The sea salt ruined land plots, which caused farmers losses in their crops. While the Tamil Nadu government, along with national agencies, focused their initial response on rebuilding the tsunami shelters for communities living along the coast and restoring their livelihoods, little attention was paid to the impact of the tsunami on natural marine and near-shore ecosystems and their services. Geographers at the Spatial Information Technology for Disaster Management at Kumbakonam, Tamil Nadu, have studied the environmental impacts of the tsunami (2010). There is also a greater realization that baseline data on ecological and socioeconomic status of the coastline and special datasets on resources, hazards, and infrastructure are needed for a good coastal management plan as well as a comprehensive disaster management plan. It is important to understand various coastal environments in order to undertake environmental initiatives for a more holistic and integrated coastal area planning as well as to incorporate environmental sustainability concerns in various livelihood activities. The visible signs of damage in Tamil Nadu were not as striking as in Sanriku. Beachfront settlements, resorts, and fishing hamlets were flattened by the tsunami in India. In Tamil Nadu, rural communities were poor (Karan and Subbiah 2011), with few material possessions. Many of the fishermen and their families, swept away by the tsunami, were squatters. Unable to afford houses in town, they had built huts illegally on public beachfronts. In Sanriku the tsunami laid waste to cities, ports, and fishing villages up and down the coast, and piles of household rubble and cars stretched inland. In Tamil Nadu, people’s relative lack of dependence on cell phones, cars, and complex supply chains for basic necessities proved advantageous to those who survived the tsunami. For Tamil Nadu tsunami survivors, food supplies such as rice, vegetables, and coconuts outside the tsunami zone were only a few kilometers inland. In Sanriku, people were dependent on supermarkets and convenience stores for food and basic necessities. The disruption of transport and communication following the Sanriku tsunami caused breaks in the supply chain and local food shortages.

Landscape of Loss in Tohoku and Tamil Nadu Whole families, whole communities, countless pasts and futures were obliterated by the tsunamis’ rolling force in Tohoku and Tamil Nadu. Suffering was indiscriminate in the luxury resorts and poor fishing hamlets along the coast. Twenty boys playing pickup cricket on Marina Beach in Chennai were swept away in a single wave. In Pondicherry, water seemed to have vanished from the shore. Then the crowd noticed a small wall of white water about a mile out. Within seconds, the wall loomed larger and began tossing fishing boats like toys as it barreled in. People began to scream. Realizing the danger too late, they were washed away. Intensely traumatic tsunamis led to acute and long-term mental health problems and psychosocial consequences in both Sanriku and Tamil Nadu (Parkes 2014). The mass evacuation led to the breakdown of many communities. The extended life away from normalcy took a heavy toll on the evacuees in Sanriku. In Miyagi, Iwate, and

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Fukushima Prefectures combined, at least 3,226 survivors of the disaster died— including some who were driven by despair to take their own lives—after suffering from health problems while in evacuation. In Fukushima, such deaths outnumbered those killed in the earthquake and tsunami. The vulnerability of adolescents increased due to population displacement, breakdown of social structures, and mental stress. In Tamil Nadu, the state government’s Department of Social Welfare was the nodal department for psychosocial support, with technical support from the National Institute of Mental Health and Neurosciences in Bangalore, the Vidyasagar Institute of Mental Health and Neuroscience in New Delhi, and the Schizophrenia Research Foundation (SCARF) and T. T. Ranganathan Clinical Research Foundation in Chennai. Trained youth volunteers addressed the needs of children. A range of methods, such as play activities, workshops, and puppet shows, were used to deal with issues of psychosocial care among children. In Pondicherry, the Jawaharlal Nehru Institute of Postgraduate Medical Education and Research provided support to the affected community, identified individuals requiring further care, and provided follow-up care. There was a dearth of trained mental health professionals, and SCARF introduced telemedicine as an option for providing expert consultation in the post-tsunami period. The tsunami’s fury landed with full force along the Sanriku Coast. In Nobiru, which was separated from the ocean by only a line of trees, the wall of water raced over the beach, picked up an entire subdivision of homes, and went over a seawall en route to Higashi Matsushima. Television images showed a cascade of debris dangled from the rail of a nearby bridge like drying laundry: rugs, tablecloths, a white lace slip, wires, cords, and twisted pipes—even a kitchen sink. On one winding street in Nobiru, perpendicular to the seashore, the wave sheared off house after house at the foundation, leaving only concrete bases and wood floors scoured spotless by the rushing water. In Rikuzentakata, a town of twenty-three thousand, more than one in ten people were either dead or have not been seen since that afternoon when the tsunami flattened three-quarters of the city in minutes. Kesennuma on the coast bore the brunt of the tsunami leaving, at least one thousand dead or missing. It fared better than nearby Ofunato and Rikuzentakata. But it was thrice blighted. After the earthquake and tsunami, fuel from the fishing boats caught fire, and for four days the port burned. In the once-bustling streets of Rikuzentakata, a few skeletons of concrete buildings stood out from a dismal plain of jumbled matchstick shards of what were once the neat wooden homes of the seaside town. Yet, while Rikuzentakata’s suffering underlines the fragility of human affairs in the face of the earth’s elemental forces, the situation in the town and the surrounding disaster area also suggested, according to press reports, real resilience in Japanese society. Victims were calm and pragmatic despite shortages. Located about 190 miles south of the earthquake’s epicenter, Urayasu suffered much wreckage, caused by soil liquefaction. The city, which is home to Tokyo Disneyland, quickly sank into the ground. Tens of thousands of residents in Urayasu

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were deprived of water and natural gas for weeks. Tilted houses, warped roads, and popped-up manholes were strewn across the dust-covered streets. Many households remained without running water and were unable to shower or flush toilets due to broken or clogged sewage pipes. In the wake of Japan’s cascading disasters, signs of economic loss could be found in many corners of the globe, from Sendai, on the battered Japanese coast, to Paris to Marion, Arkansas. Container ships sat in the Pacific or at docks in Japan, wary of unloading tons of pork and steak because of that nation’s fractured electrical grid after the tsunami. Any break in the “cold chain” of refrigeration could spoil meat. Louis Vuitton, the luxury goods maker based in Paris, shut more than fifty of its stores in Tokyo and northern Japan. And Volvo, the Swedish car maker, was working with just a ten-day supply of Japanese-built navigation and climate control systems. There are many other examples of the break in the global supply chain resulting from the tsunami.

Nature and Technology in Tension in Japan Japan’s response to the tsunami threat has been the application of cutting-edge engineering and technology. Faith in technology over nature was vindicated in 1960 with the great Chilean earthquake, which set off a Pacific-wide tsunami that surged into the Sanriku Coast, killing 120 people, but Taro remained largely unaffected, safe behind its concrete wall. Fudaimura, about 320 miles north of Tokyo, built a fiftyone-foot floodgate between mountainsides. It took twelve years to build, at a cost of more than $30 million. The concrete structure was completed in 1984; it spanned 673 feet from end to end. The March 11 tsunami battered the white beach behind the cove, but behind the floodgate Fudaimura village was virtually untouched. Based in part on Taro’s 1960 success, a new program of coastal defense was initiated. The Sanriku Coast is now one of the most engineered rural coastlines in the world. Its towns, villages, and ports take shelter behind state-of-the-art seawalls and vast assemblages of concrete tetrapods designed to dissipate a wave’s energy. The region is home to one of the world’s best emergency broadcast systems. In 2003, Taro instituted a direct satellite link to accelerate the arrival of tsunami warnings. Public education was expanded. Maps showing the maximum reach of a tsunami based on 1896 as a base line were prepared, and evacuation sites were placed above that line. Despite the substantial infrastructure and technological investments in Sanriku, the wave on March 11 overwhelmed large portions of Taro and Miyako. Some of the evacuation points were not high enough, and lines on the map were drawn in the wrong places. Billions spent over the years on developing and deploying technologies to limit the damage from temblors and tsunamis have certainly kept Japan’s death count lower than it might otherwise be—especially in comparison with the multitudes lost in the Indian Ocean tsunami. The March 11 tsunami, however, showed the limits of what even the best preparation can do; it illustrated the limits of technological safeguards and human foresight. Given the limits of steel and concrete to resist the forces of nature, much depends on people’s own preparedness to face disaster.

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A greater application of technology may not be the answer to the problems posed by the March 11 tsunami. Researchers are starting to assess whether the seawalls and breakwaters minimized the force of the tsunami, even as some experts are already calling for a stop to more coastline engineering, saying money should be spent instead on education and evacuation drills. Mega-disasters can overcome society’s best efforts to protect against them. The fact is that nature often gets the last word.

The Problem of Post-Disaster Reconstruction Now, five years after northeastern Japan was battered by an earthquake and a tsunami, coastal villages where photographers captured haunting images of devastation exude an eerie calm. Cars no longer dangle from the upper floors of tottering buildings. The twisted hulls of wrecked fishing trawlers have been hauled from downtown streets. Communities are trying to rebuild. On September 5, 2015, the central government removed the evacuation order in Naraha, Fukushima Prefecture, that had been in place since the March 2011 nuclear crisis. Naraha was the first to see the evacuation order lifted among seven Fukushima municipalities where the entire population was ordered to evacuate. The removal of the evacuation order allowed 7,401 people from 2,704 households to return, the largest homecoming of Fukushima evacuees so far. Decontamination in Naraha was completed in March 2014. The average radiation level in residential areas was 0.3 microsieverts per hour, down nearly 60 percent since the start of decontamination work. However, only 688 people from 326 households have applied for long-term stays to prepare for permanent return (Japan Times, July 6, 2015). For Japan, rebuilding after the quake and tsunami is daunting (Harding 2011). There are benefits to being a land of social cohesion with a generally homogenous population trained from birth in the virtues of the common good. We are seeing that as Japan picks itself up after the serious blow. And we have seen this resolve before: after the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923, after Japanese cities were firebombed in World War II, after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, after the Kobe earthquake in 1995. Japan has chops when it comes to muscling through. The communal, consultative instinct that binds Japanese society was tapped again to rebuild businesses and homes. Toyota, General Motors, and Volvo were flummoxed in the spring of 2011 because supplies from Japan were disrupted after the tsunami. But the nation’s links in the global supply chain were repaired and improved quickly. Kobe reemerged after its earthquake not just as a manufacturing and shipping hub, like before the quake killed sixty-four hundred people. It used the crisis to rethink its future and re-create itself as a biomedical center. Contributions by geographers, planners, and other social scientists have identified four crucial dimensions of response to disasters—disaster preparedness, disaster response, disaster mitigation, and post-disaster recovery. Among the four categories, the post-disaster recovery stage—particularly the reconstruction of areas damaged by the disaster—has received less attention than other stages, such as immediate relief efforts.

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The post-disaster recovery stage can be conceptualized into four distinct but overlapping periods: an emergency period, a restoration period, a replacement reconstruction period, and finally a developmental reconstruction period. According to this model, the emergency period may last for several days, and during this period actions such as search and rescue take precedence. Next, the restoration period, which may last for several weeks, is characterized by repairs to utilities, such as water, electricity, and gas mains. Following this, the replacement construction period, lasting several months or years, involves the long-term replacement of factories and homes and the attempt of the stricken area’s economy and population to recover to pre-disaster levels. In the final developmental reconstruction period, there is improvement over and above the pre-disaster situation, which may include projects to memorialize or commemorate the disaster. Completion of the reconstruction works may take years, and the complete process may take up to ten years. The disaster provides an opportunity to replan and improve the physical structure of the stricken area to upgrade the region’s resistance to future disasters. For example, in cases of towns and villages, local authorities often identify hazard-prone lands and remove them from residential or commercial development. Indeed, the literature on hazards research offers a number of case studies suggesting that disasters provide opportunities for unforeseen and beneficial development as well as economic improvement. That said, experiences in countless other disaster-stricken areas remind us that new opportunities for redevelopment are rarely exploited in full. Why? Because reconstruction planning to improve villages and cities flounder as a result of unforeseen socio-economic complexities. Social and economic issues, such as housing, employment, health, and general community well-being, are often overlooked, with the main emphasis being placed on restoration and replacement of the shattered built environment. What factors are important in shaping post-disaster reconstruction? The quality and success of post-disaster planning and reconstruction depend on several organizational and social factors as well as physical ones. These factors are (1) the preexisting situation in the disaster area, including its population and economic structure, (2) aspects of the disaster itself, including the geographical impact and outcomes, (3) efforts made by governments and other agencies to facilitate rehabilitation, and (4) local community attitudes toward planning and proposed improvements. All of these aspects are important in Sanriku. The influence of geography and the role played by local communities are central to understanding the reconstruction efforts and results. In the small farming community of Towa in Nihonmatsu City, self-help activities emerged after March 11. The community monitored radiation levels and in collaboration with academic scientists explored ways to reduce radiation contamination of forests, farm soil, and crops. Grassroot groups can respond effectively to challenges and organize themselves to take actions outside the formal government structures. Few nations rival the Japanese when it comes to beginning the restoration of order. This is a country where order and neatness is equated with beauty—the word

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kirei carries both meanings—and children are required to play a regular role in cleaning up their schools. In the wake of the devastating March 11 earthquake and tsunami, Japan faced one of its greatest cleanup jobs. The deadly tsunami turned whole towns along the northeastern coast into tangles of steel, wood, concrete, and silt that had to be removed before recovery and reconstruction. It was estimated from satellite images that as much as 24 million tons of debris littered coastal areas in Miyagi, Iwate, and Fukushima. That figure is equivalent to half of Japan’s annual total waste, and did not include thousands of vehicles destroyed by the tsunami or the boats and ships washed inland, or the millions of tons of sludge left behind by the waters. Reconstruction in Sanriku, as of early 2016, presents a mixed picture. Restoration of tsunami-shattered infrastructure, such as port facilities and railroad networks, has made rapid progress. The Joban Expressway from Saitama to Miyagi Prefecture was completed in March 2015. The JR line between Miyako and Ofunato is being repaired, and full reopening is expected in 2018. The rapid bus service is using dedicated roads converted from rail tracks between Kesennuma and Ofunato. The JR Senseki line, the fast train connection between Sendai and Ishinomaki, reopened in 2015. A new railway station building was completed and opened in Onagawa in March 2015, and train service from Ishinomaki has resumed. Work is progressing on the extension of Sanriku Expressway. In Miyako, the reconstruction and beautification efforts at Jodogahama Beach has been completed. In Kamaishi, the ruins of Japan’s iron industry and other sites related to the country’s industrialization became World Heritage Sites in 2015, and the city will host the 2019 Rugby World Cup. Progress has been made in carving elevated plains into the hillsides, where new residential districts will be built. The towns of Rikuzentakata and Minamisanriku have changed dramatically. The city centers of both towns have been raised by several meters. Tall seawalls are being built, often against the will of local inhabitants. Some of them doubt the effectiveness of the seawalls and prefer to continue a lifestyle that lets them see the ocean (Economist, February 7, 2015). More evacuees are leaving temporary housing units to rebuild their own homes or to move into public rental housing for displaced people. About fifty-six thousand people remain evacuated away from Miyagi, Iwate, and Fukushima Prefectures and scattered across Japan (Japan Times, March 10, 2015). Due to labor shortages and surging material costs, construction of new housing remains slow. The labor market is tight in the three prefectures. Jobs are concentrated in the construction sector, and full-time regular jobs in the three prefectures fell from 2007 to 2012, while the amount of irregular employment increased by 12 to 28 percent—much higher than the national average. The number of people receiving livelihood assistance from their local government is rising in municipalities devastated by the tsunami. After losing their own sources of revenue due to closing of damaged factories and out-migration following the triple disaster, tsunami-ravaged municipalities have become heavily dependent on the national government for funding.

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Lessons from Tamil Nadu, India What can we learn from the devastation wrought on the southernmost Indian state of Tamil Nadu in 2004? Reports from the field and personal observations suggest that in some cases the response to the disaster was not as effective as it might have been because of inadequate coordination, turf battles among NGOs and government agencies, misplaced priorities, and insufficient local input. Focus on strengthening resilience of vulnerable coastal communities by building up local capacities for riskreduction was missing. The 187 kilometers of Tamil Nadu’s coastline affected by the tsunami had long been neglected by government authorities. After the tsunami, highlevel officials were transferred to organize the disaster response and reconstruction efforts, and to facilitate the work of the NGOs. Eventually, more than five hundred domestic and international NGOs conducted projects in the region, in most cases without adequate coordination. Too many NGOs were motivated to engage in projects that they could take the credit for and use for self-promotion, whether or not such projects represented the most effective use of resources. There were considerable overlaps and duplications of effort that did not prioritize local needs and interests. Cooperation was not a strong point, and in too many cases the institutional imperatives and the need to justify outlays drove the disaster relief efforts. In Tamil Nadu, reconstruction tasks were divided, with NGOs being responsible for shelter construction and the government for infrastructure. In several cases, infrastructural services (such as electricity, water, sanitation, and access to roads) did not keep pace with housing construction. The result was that some newly completed homes were on sites that lacked basic infrastructure. It is critical to focus on aspects of the reconstruction program that will provide infrastructural services and amenities. NGOs and government must continue to work together in a participatory manner that is culturally sensitive, enables economic and livelihood opportunities, and protects communities against future disasters. Coming to a mutual consensus is a time-consuming process that involves repeated consultation and negotiation between external agencies, government, and community members. Tamil Nadu illustrates that it is crucial from the outset to ensure that immediate livelihood recovery efforts feed into a second stage of livelihood sustainability and security. It also reveals that interventions are most effective when they are planned from a long-term perspective and focus on strengthening traditional livelihoods. Interventions for economic restoration were most successful wherever they were aligned with traditional livelihoods. Local knowledge is the foundation for improving a locality’s disaster-limitation capacity through improved information dissemination. Although there were no specific emergency plans in place for vulnerable communities in Tamil Nadu in 2004, local people were familiar with cyclones and flooding, so they already knew about local safe, elevated spots that evolved into refugee centers. This software of local knowledge is as significant as the hardware of seawall defenses in Japan. Seawalls

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are expensive to build and create a false sense of security, and are often ineffective (Shaw and Takeuchi 2012). Following the tsunami, the quickest and most effective disaster response in Tamil Nadu came from local communities. Therefore, a decentralized approach to empower local communities and fine-tuning programs to meet local needs are important. The first responders to disasters are mostly people from the affected community. Hence, improving disaster resilience hinges on building local capacity. The key lesson is the need to “go local” to improve grassroots-level disaster resilience, since interventions work more effectively by listening to communities and approaching disaster preparedness and recovery from their perspective. Experience from Tamil Nadu indicates that top-down approaches hampered affected communities’ ownership and participation levels in recovery efforts. While government ownership and leadership were well organized, community ownership was lacking. Often, intervention by government bureaucracy has delayed recovery (Wakabayashi 2013). A more community-driven and integrated—rather than sectoral—approach for implementation works better to ensure sustainable recovery. The Tamil Nadu Tsunami Resource Centre and its counterparts in the districts were pivotal in coordinating the resources and materials that poured in for recovery and facilitated the systematic construction of homes and community infrastructure. The disaster reconstruction program offers an opportunity to “Build Back Better” while simultaneously reducing long-term disaster vulnerability. The development of integrated coastal management plans and disaster awareness campaigns are important. After the tsunami in Tamil Nadu, in the sense of Build Back Better, women became first-time boat owners.

The Future of Energy After Fukushima The human suffering in the Japanese disaster is obviously the overwhelming fact. Far more significant will be how the world responds to nuclear power after the Fukushima accident, which will influence our lives for years to come. The danger is that the world’s response to the events at Fukushima may not be rational. In Fukushima, we are looking at a forty-year-old boiling water reactor whose cooling capability was not as redundant as it needed to be. Newer reactor designs have passive cooling systems. They do not need extra power. We should learn from Japan’s experience. We humans do not deal well with risk. We underestimate the chances of catastrophic events until they happen; then the setbacks are much harder to handle. America has not approved a new nuclear plant in more than thirty years. That is a legacy of Three Mile Island, a “minor accident” in which no one died. Coal power, through mining deaths and emissions, has been far more harmful, but less dramatically so. Hundreds of new coal plants have been built over the past thirty years. The accident at Fukushima was a test case for the global environmental movement. Concern about global warming over the past decade led many greens to reconsider their long-standing opposition to nuclear power. Caught between their anti-nuclear sentiments and their increasingly apocalyptic fears of global warming, environmen-

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talists have mostly made the wrong choice. Environmental hysteria about nuclear power is matched by green delusions about renewable energy. Since at least the 1970s, greens have argued that wind and solar, when combined with energy efficiency, could meet Japan’s energy needs without help from nuclear power or fossil fuels. Faith in what is called the “soft energy path” has taken on an almost religious quality among green activists in Japan. Yet, despite decades of subsidies, solar and wind still make up a tiny percentage of energy virtually everywhere in the world. Anyone who thinks turning away from nuclear will lead to more renewables need only look at what has happened in Germany. After Fukushima, it shut down seven of its seventeen nuclear plants. The result has been that emissions have risen as much as 10 percent, partly due to electricity imports from coal-burning nations, such as the Czech Republic. Put simply, there is no credible path to stabilizing, much less reducing, global carbon emissions without more nuclear power. We must take seriously the risks of nuclear power; Fukushima was a serious industrial accident, and we must modernize the existing nuclear power plants. More nuclear power will also require better and cheaper nuclear technologies, capable of displacing existing coal and gas power. We should not give up on renewables either: expanding state support for clean energy innovation, nuclear and non-nuclear alike, must be a priority if we are to wean off fossil fuels and meet a dramatically rising energy demand in the coming decades (Iwate and Hoeing 2015). A settled assessment of Fukushima will take months or even years. An emerging consensus, by no means unanimous, suggests that nuclear power will move ahead; the world needs more energy and fewer greenhouse gases (Vivoda and Graetz 2015). But if Fukushima has proved anything, it is that leadership to meet the crucial goals of nuclear power and renewables is unlikely to come from anti-nuclear environmental campaigners.

Concluding Thoughts As an Indian by birth, an American by choice, and a resident of Kentucky by career, I have experienced firsthand how a nation’s character shapes its fate. The world is quite familiar with the Churchillian resolve of the British during World War II. Americans are a famously innovative and independent-minded people; such traits have contributed to their position of leadership in the world today. As for the Japanese, their determined spirit will help them recover and rebuild after the great disaster. That spirit is aptly captured in the phrase fukutsu no seishin (never give up). I often heard this in Japan; it reflects tenacity, perseverance, and hope. Equal in importance to the spirit of fukutsu no seishin is the strong sense of shared purpose. The thread of community is woven tightly through all Japanese. Because Japan has repeatedly rebounded from adversity, often to become more vital than before, I believe that the calamities of March 2011 will have a similar cathartic effect, inspiring the country to revive the ravaged northeast. Much has been achieved during the past eleven years of tsunami reconstruction in Tamil Nadu. While the achievements have been significant, the work of compre-

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hensive development of the Tamil Nadu coast is far from completed. An integrated approach to development and living environments that is socially and culturally acceptable is critical. Lessons learned from Tamil Nadu’s and India’s achievements in dealing with complex issues of tsunami recovery and reconstruction offer a script for dealing with most difficult issues—not only in natural hazards, but in almost every area of human welfare.

References “After the Tsunami: The Victims, the Science, and the Global Threat.” 2005. Newsweek, January 10. The Economist. 2015. “Rebuilding the North-Eastern Region of Tohoku Is Being Bungled.” February 7. http://www.economist.com/news/asia/21642216-rebuilding-north-easternregion-tohoku-being-bungled-grinding. Harding, Robin. 2011. “Japan Rebuild Must Focus on Region’s Potential.” Financial Times, April 6. Iwate, Mari, and Henry Hoeing. 2015. “Japan Struggles to Find Balanced Energy Strategy.” Wall Street Journal, May 13. Japan Times. 2015. “Tohoku Slowly on the Mend.” March 10. Karan, Pradyumna P., and Shanmugam P. Subbiah, eds. 2011. The Indian Ocean Tsunami: The Global Response to a Natural Disaster. Lexington: Univ. Press of Kentucky. Parkes, Colin. 2014. “Responses to Disaster: Reflections on a Visit to Japan.” Bereavement Care 33 (2): 49–55. Pilling, David, Jonathan Soble, and Mure Dickie. 2011. “A Shaken Nation.” Financial Times, March 19/20. Scidmore, Eliza. 1896. “The Recent Earthquake Wave on the Coast of Japan.” National Geographic Magazine 7 (9): 252. Shaw, R., and Y. Takeuchi, eds. 2012. East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami: Evacuation, Communication, Education, Volunteerism. Singapore: Research Publishing. Spatial Information Technology for Disaster Management. 2010. Post Tsunami Impact Assessment on Coastal Hamlets in Nagapattinam Using IRS P6 Data. Kumbakonam: Bharathidasan University. Vivoda, V., and G. Graetz. 2015. “Nuclear Policy and Regulation in Japan After Fukushima: Navigating the Crisis.” Journal of Contemporary Asia 45 (3): 490–509. Wakabayashi, Daisuke. 2013. “Bureaucracy Slows Tsunami Recovery.” Wall Street Journal, March 8, A12.

Acknowledgments We acknowledge the financial support of Chancellor Toyoshi Satow, President Takayasu Mitani, and former provost Takashi Okoshi of J. F. Oberlin University. For this financial support, which made this timely research project possible, we are most thankful to J. F. Oberlin University. Their generous research support enabled this contribution to Japan’s ongoing debate about its natural hazards. Bruce Batten, director of the Institute for International Studies, gave generously of his time and intellectual energy. Megumi Horiuchi provided yeoman’s service in shepherding the Tokyo symposium on the tsunami and nuclear meltdown in October 2013. Masaki Wada, Koji Hashimoto, and Satoshi Umegae made the video of the conference that was broadcast live and was uploaded on iTunes (https://itunes. apple.com/jp/itunes-u/2012-international-symposium/id605648894?mt=10). We also acknowledge the help of J. F. Oberlin University faculty members and colleagues: Makoto Onaka, Mariko Matsuda, Misako Takizawa, Robert Eskilden (International Christian University), Teruko Akita, Mihoko Inamori, Minami Fujikawa, Kazuhiko Ozawa, Ohotake Maiko, Taketo Shimizu, Atsuko Abe, and Tomoko Ikeda. Professors Kunitada Matsuoka and Tokiko Kobayakawa of the university’s College of Performing and Visual Arts entertained the symposium participants with a miniconcert. Unryu Suganuma acknowledges the help of Mikio Horikawa, Rev. Daiei Inoue, Yoshihiro Nakajima, Shangbo Li, Jun Kaizu, Takao Nishimura, and Bekkus Chong, and several student volunteers. We also acknowledge the support of the Association of Japanese Geographers and its president, Noritaka Yagasaki. Ryukyu Kobujutsu Hozon Shinkoukai chairman Kisho Inoue, descendent of Taro Katsura, former prime minister of Japan, provided research assistance. We are grateful to many people in Sanriku who shared their memories and stories of the triple disaster in interviews. Kinu Azuma, wife of Shinichi Azuma, former mayor of Taro, and Junichi Kanazawa, a retired fireman, answered our many questions related to this research. Kenji Yamazaki and Tomoko Yamazaki of Iwate University facilitated our research in Sanriku. Finally, we are deeply grateful to the contributors of the volume, who produced multiple drafts and answered many queries despite their numerous other commitments. Richard Gilbreath, director of the University of Kentucky Cartography Laboratory, drafted all of the maps included in this volume. We also express our appreciation to Whitney Walker for her assistance with this book.

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Contributors Yukiko Dejima is currently an Associate Professor in the College of Arts and Sciences at J. F. Oberlin University, Tokyo. She obtained a Master of Arts in social and cultural history from the University of Warwick, UK, and another Master of Arts in English literature from the graduate school of Tsuda College, Japan, before studying the social history of Britain as a Ph.D. candidate at the graduate school of Tsuda College. She is the author of a book chapter in Igirisu Kingendai Joseishi Kenkyu Nyumon [An Introductory Guide to the Study of Modern History of British Women] (Tokyo: Aoki Shoten, 2006), and also edited and wrote the introduction to Foundations of the National Trust: Lives and Works of Octavia Hill, Robert Hunter and H. D. Rawnsley (Tokyo: EPM, 2011). James M. Hall is an Associate Professor at the Iwate University Faculty of Education in Morioka, Japan. Hall has a Master’s degree in International Education from the Harvard Graduate School of Education and has called Iwate home since 2003. His current research is in the field of English teacher education, and he has written numerous papers and book chapters on this subject. Spending time with an international volunteer organization in Ofunato was a culture shock for Hall at first, but, in the end, the experience helped him understand Iwate, himself, and his adopted culture better. Toshio Hatsuzawa is currently a Professor in the College of Human Development and Culture at Fukushima University, Fukushima Prefecture. He was educated at Saitama University, Tokyo Gakugei University, and Rissho University. His field of study is the structure of traditional industries. His many publications include “Yamagata-ken Okitama-Tsumugi Sanchi no Tokucho to Kadai” [Some Characteristics and Problems of the Okitama-Tsumugi Weaving Industrial Area, Yamagata Prefecture], Hokuto Nihon no Chiiki Keizai [Regional Economics of Northeast Japan] (Tokyo: Hassakusha, 2012); “Higashi Nihon Daishinzai Hisaichi no Monozukuri Fukko no Kadai” [Some Problems of the Manufacturing Revival in the Area Struck by the East Japan Great Earthquake Disaster], Annals of the Japan Association for Regional Economics Studies, no. 24 (2012); and “Sakiori no Chiikiteki Sonzai Kiban” [A Study of the Regional Bases of Existence of Sakiori], Journal of the Center for Regional Affairs, Fukushima University 22 (2) (2011). Masateru Hino is currently a Professor in the Graduate School of Science at Tohoku University, Sendai, Japan. He studied human geography at Nagoya University at both the undergraduate and graduate levels, and received his Ph.D. in geography in 1996. He is the author of Toshi Hatten to Shiten Ritchi [The Relationship between Urban Growth and Locations of Branch Offices of Enterprises] (Tokyo: Kokon Shoin, 1996) and Tohoku [The Tohoku Region] (Tokyo: Asakura Shoten, 2008). 465  

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Yilin Hou is a Professor of public administration at Syracuse University, United States. He obtained a Master’s degree and a Ph.D. in public administration at Syracuse University (Maxwell School). His research interests are budgetary and fiscal institutions, state and local taxation, intergovernmental fiscal relations, and intellectual development of public budgeting. His research has focused on how government can better weather revenue fluctuations resulting from economic cycles to smooth public service provision. He is the author of Government Budget Stabilization Over the Economic Cycle: Policy, Tools, and Impacts (New York: Springer, 2012). Wakako Ikeda-Ohtsubo is currently an Assistant Professor in the Graduate School of Agricultural Sciences at Tohoku University, Japan. She was born and grew up in Sendai (Miyagi) with her sister Yukiko Dejima, also a participant in the present project. After finishing her Bachelor’s degree in agricultural science and Master’s degree in life sciences, she completed her doctoral work on microbiology and received the degree of Doktor der Naturwissenschaften (rerum naturalium) from PhilippsUniversität Marburg, Germany. W. Ikeda-Ohtsubo lives in Sendai with her husband and five-year-old daughter. Mihoko Inamori is a lecturer of English and a translator between English and Japanese. She was a Japanese editor of JALT (The Japan Association for Language Teaching) for two years. She studied at the London School of Economics and Political Science and is a graduate of the University of London. Her research fields are philosophy, social science, and English language education. She is the author of “Kagirinai Yokubō to no Ketsubetsu” [The Pain of Parting], a chapter in Higashi Nihon Daishinsai to Chi no Yakuwari [The Great East Japan Earthquake and the Role of Knowledge] (Tokyo: Keiso Shobo, 2012). Pradyumna P. Karan is a University Research Professor in the Department of Geography at the University of Kentucky. He is the author or editor of numerous books on Japan, Himalaya, Tibet, India, and the non-Western world, including The Indian Ocean Tsunami. Lisa Yinghong Li is currently an Associate Professor in the Institute for International Programs at J. F. Oberlin University, Tokyo. She was born in Beijing, China. Having studied and then taught English there, she left in 1988. She received both her M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from the Department of East Asian Languages and Literature at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, United States. Her current research interest is issues related to the effect of modernization and globalization on East Asian culture and society. Yuichiro Nishimura is currently an Associate Professor at Nara Women’s University. His research interests are in socioeconomic geography, time-geography, and criti-

Contributors  467  

cal GIS. He is the coauthor of a chapter in Japan in the Bluegrass (Lexington; Univ. Press of Kentucky, 2001) as well as the coauthor of “Time-Geographic Analysis on Natural Resource Use in a Village of the Vientiane Plain,” Southeast Asian Studies 47 (4) (2010): 426–450. Junko Oikawa is an Assistant Professor at J. F. Oberlin University. After graduating from J. F. Oberlin University with a Bachelor’s in Chinese language, she earned an M.A. in international studies from Oberlin and a Ph.D. in social and cultural studies from Nihon University. Her research interests are Sino-Japanese relations and Chinese human rights. She worked at the Japanese embassy in China and is the author of Gendai Chugoku no Genron Kukan to Seiji Bunka [Venues for Discourse and Political Culture in Contemporary China] (Tokyo: Ochanomizu Shobo, 2012). Kohei Okamoto is a Professor of geography at Nagoya University. His most recent publication in English is as coauthor of “Time-Geographic Analysis on Natural Resource Use in a Village of the Vientiane Plain,” Southeast Asian Studies 47 (4) (2010): 426–450. Itsunori Onodera is the former Defense Minister and former Senior Vice-Minister for Foreign Affairs and a Member of the House of Representatives, where he represents Kesennuma, Miyagi Prefecture, for the Liberal Democratic Party. He completed his graduate study at the Graduate Schools for Law and Politics of the University of Tokyo in 2000, and was a visiting Research Fellow at the School of Advanced International Studies, Johns Hopkins University, in 2002. He is also an Adjunct Professor at Tohoku Fukushi University. Kumi Sato is the Director of Avenues magazine and a Professor at Kinjo Gakuin University, Nagoya. Dr. Sato is the coauthor of “Japan, Moving Towards Becoming a Multi-Cultural Society, and the Way of Disseminating Multilingual Disaster Information to Non-Japanese Speakers,” Proceedings of the 2009 International Workshop on Intercultural Collaboration (New York: Association for Computing Machinery, 2009), 51–60. Ryohei Sekine is currently an Assistant Professor in the Graduate School of Environmental Studies, Tohoku University, Sendai, Japan. After growing up in Fukushima and studying at Fukushima University, he went to Sendai, earning a Master’s degree and a D.Sci. from Tohoku University. Dr. Sekine conducts geographical research on agriculture in Japan and the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region of the People’s Republic of China. Toshikazu Seto is currently a Postdoctoral Fellow at the Kinugasa Research Organization and Digital Humanities Center for Japanese Arts and Cultures (DH-JAC) of Ritsumeikan University, Kyoto. His main interests are in geographical informa-

468  Contributors

tion science, town planning, and social geography. He specializes in volunteered geographical information and modern historical GIS. Dr. Seto is the coauthor of chapters in Kyoto no Rekishi GIS [Historical GIS of Kyoto], edited by K. Yano, T. Nakaya, T. Kawasumi, and S. Tanaka (Kyoto: Nakanishiya Shuppan, 2011), and Digital Humanities: New Approaches on Historical Studies, edited by F. Hsiang (Taipei: National Taiwan Univ. Press, 2011). H. Todd Stradford has a Ph.D. from the University of Oklahoma, an M.A. from the University of Missouri, and a B.S. in geology from St. Lawrence University. He also pursued graduate studies at Sophia University in Tokyo. He is currently an Associate Professor at the University of Wisconsin-Platteville, and has been the editor of the Bulletin of Asian Geography since 2001. His formal education has focused on both the Far East and geographical techniques, especially cartography, GIS, and remote sensing. Present research interests include problems of the rural environment and society in Japan. Locally, his interests include historic preservation and seeking out what remains architecturally of the nineteenth-century Midwest. Unryu Suganuma is currently an Associate Professor in the College of Arts and Sciences at J. F. Oberlin University, Tokyo. After growing up and studying in China and Japan, he went to the United States for graduate studies, earning Master’s degrees at both St. John’s University (in Chinese studies) and Syracuse University (in international relations) as well as a Ph.D. (in geography) from the Maxwell School of Syracuse University. Dr. Suganuma is the author of Sovereign Rights and Territorial Space in Sino-Japanese Relations (Honolulu: Univ. of Hawai‘i Press, 2000) and Rizhong Guanxi yu Lingtu Zhuquan [History of Sino-Japanese Relations: Sovereignty and Territory] (Tokyo: Nihon Kyohosha, 2007). Moto Suzuki is an independent translator from Ofunato, Iwate. Suzuki played an important role in All Hands volunteer efforts by helping them build relationships with local residents. Suzuki’s connections in Ofunato made it possible to interview many of the local residents and All Hands officials who played instrumental roles in establishing the All Hands relief efforts discussed in this book. Takehiko Takano is currently a Professor in the Department of Regional Design at Tohoku Gakuin University, Sendai. After growing up in various prefectures in the Tohoku region, he entered the Department of Geography at Tohoku University, Sendai, where he earned his Master’s degree. He is known as the translator into Japanese of E. C. Relph’s Place and Placelessness (New York: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1976). His recent research focuses on the development of rural communities in northeastern Japan. Shunichi Takekawa is an Associate Professor at Ritsumeikan Asia Pacific University in Beppu, Japan. He earned a Ph.D. in political science at the University of Hawai‘i.

Contributors  469  

He formerly worked as a staff editor and reporter for the Mainichi Shimbun, one of the major newspapers in Japan. His current research focuses on newspapers and politics in postwar Japan. His articles include “Forging Nationalism from Pacifism and Internationalism: An Analysis of New Year’s Day Editorials in Asahi Shimbun and Yomiuri Shimbun, 1953–2005,” Social Science Japan Journal 10 (1) (April 2007). Jonathan Taylor is a Professor of geography at California State University, Fullerton, where he has been teaching for fifteen years. He has a B.A. in psychology from Washington University, an M.A. in geography from Southern Illinois University, Edwardsville, and a Ph.D. in geography from the University of Kentucky. Dr. Taylor’s research on Japan and Okinawa has been published in Political Geography and the Geographical Review, with additional research on East and Southeast Asia published in Geopolitics and Ecological Economics. His main areas of expertise are in political and environmental geography. Jun Tsuchiya is currently an Associate Professor in the Department of Cultural Studies at Miyagi Gakuin Women’s University, Sendai, Japan. He went to graduate school at Nagoya University, where he earned a Master’s degree and a Ph.D. in geography. Dr. Tsuchiya is the coauthor of Nihon no Ryutsu to Toshi Kukan [Restructuring of Japanese Distribution Systems and Urban Space] (Tokyo: Kokon Shoin, 2004) and of Jinbun Chirigaku [Human Geography] (Tokyo: Minerva Shobo, 2008). Masatomo Umitsu is a Professor in the Department of Geography at Nara University and Emeritus Professor of Nagoya University. His field of study is physical geography, especially geomorphology and disaster research. He has conducted research not only in Japan but also internationally, in Bangladesh, Thailand, Vietnam, Indonesia, and other places. Professor Umitsu is the editor of Chusekiteichi no Chikei Kankyogaku [Geoenvironment of Riverine and Coastal Lowlands] (Tokyo: Kokon Shoin, 2012) and coeditor of Shin Sekai Chirishi: Minami Ajia [New World Geography: South Asia] (Tokyo: Asakura Shoten, 2012), Nihon no Chikei: Chubu [Landforms of Japan: Central Japan] (Tokyo: Tokyo Univ. Press, 2006), and Kaimen Josho to Ajia no Kaigan [Sea-Level Rise and Asian Coasts] (Tokyo: Kokon Shoin, 2001). Christine Mary Wilby is a Professor at J. F. Oberlin University, where she teaches academic English studies in the Graduate Division. She has a Ph.D. in discourse in society from the University of Aston, UK, and has been teaching in Japan for several decades. She has firsthand experience of the recent earthquakes and their aftermath in her hometown, Christchurch, New Zealand, and is currently researching the impact of city-wide destruction on cultural identity there through an analysis of language expressed in multimedia. Among her publications are “Post Colonial Literature and Globalisation—Locating New Centers,” Obirin Studies in English Language and Literature 49 (2009) and “Towards Another Summer—Surrendering to the Call of the Myth-Maker,” Studies in Humanities 2 (2011).

470  Contributors

Kenji Yamazaki obtained his Ph.D. in geography from Meiji University, and his specialization is disasters focusing on water. Since 2005, when he started working for Iwate University, he has been energetically conducting research on tsunamis in the Sanriku Coast and has created a course for college students titled “Considering Disaster Management Based on the Real Facts of Tsunamis.” Through preparation and practice of this course, he has built up an intimate network with the citizens, public servants, teachers, and others on the coast. He is the author of Toshigata Suigai to Kasochi no Suigai [Flood Disasters in Urban Areas and Those in Depopulated Areas] (Tokyo: Tsukiji Shokan, 1994). He loves taking walks with his dog, Mu. Once the dog saved his life! Tomoko Yamazaki has a Master of Arts and Sciences degree from Tokyo University and a Master of Education degree from Harvard University. She has participated in Iwate University’s pre-service teacher training program since 2000. When a new course, Integrated Study (Sogo Enshu), was implemented, she incorporated her studies of the efforts and culture of the citizens of Taro Town toward tsunamis into the course. Through supporting the tsunami-affected schools with her students, she is currently working on identifying factors that helped people save their lives when the tsunami came in order to create a safer and more comfortable community. In 2012, she was designated as a member of the Research Center for Regional Disaster Management, Iwate University. Yukio Yotsumoto graduated from Soka University in Japan, where he received a Bachelor’s degree in economics in 1989. He earned a Master’s degree in agricultural extension education from the University of Georgia in 1994, and a Ph.D. in sociology from the University of Kentucky in 2002. Currently, he is an Associate Professor of Asia-Pacific Studies at Ritsumeikan Asia Pacific University. His research interests include community development and tourism, and his recent publications include “Profiles of Hawkers Working in Rizal Park, Manila, Philippines: Socio-Economic Status, Migration Motivations, and the Sale of Goods,” Ritsumeikan International Affairs 10 (2011): 303–320.

Index Abe, Shinzo, 189, 216, 218, 429 Abukuma Highland, 233–34, 237, 238, 243, 246 Abukuma River, 107, 322 Aeon Group, 315 Agency for Natural Resources and Energy (ANRE), 211, 219, 220 agriculture, 11–12; damage to, 22, 175–85 Aichi International Association, 382 Air Liquide, 30 Akasaki Elementary School, 341 Akita Prefecture, 309, 325 Alaska earthquake, 46 Aleutian Islands, 47, 66 All Hands Volunteers, 34, 364–77 Alps Electric, 321, 323 amakudari, 219 American Nuclear Society, 194 Aneyoshi, Japan, 450 Ansei Nankai tsunami, 46–47, 60, 86 Ansei Tokai tsunami, 46–47, 60, 86 Aomori Prefecture, 104, 109, 167, 309 Araya, Ai, 160, 169–71 Architecture Institute of Japan, 16 Association of Japanese Geographers, 291 atomic bomb literature, 251, 252–53 Atomic Energy Basic Law, 191 Atomic Energy Commission, 216 automotive industries, 29, 323–26 Ayukawa Whaling, 14–15 Ayukawahama, Japan, 14 Banda Aceh, Indonesia, 119 Bangalore, India, 453 Basic Act on Disaster Control Measures of 1961, 16 Basic Act on Reconstruction in Response to the Great East Japan Earthquake of 2011, 16 Beijing Army District Earthquake Relief Headquarters, 421 Beppu Bay tsunami, 46, 62, 63 Blackstone, 35 BMW, 30 471  

Bosch, 35 Boso region, 58, 59, 60 Canadian Solar Inc., 16 Canon, 32 Chennai, India, 451, 453 Chernobyl, 27, 28, 39, 192, 229, 278, 279 Chile earthquake and tsunami, 46, 90, 142–43, 163, 341, 346, 347, 353, 454 China Seismological Bureau, 422 Chinese in Japan, 35, 387, 390, 391 Chonai River, 142, 144 Christchurch, New Zealand, 37–38, 432; destruction in Central Business District, 454; government and community response, 438–40 Chrysler, 31 Citizens Nuclear Information Center, 193–95 climate change, 28 Col, Jeanne-Marie, 422 counter-mapping, 300–302 crisis mapping, 290–91, 292–99 Cuddalore, India, 451 Date, Japan, 27, 242–43 Deep-Ocean Assessment and Reporting of Tsunami (DART), 147 Democratic Party of Japan, 211, 213, 216 disaster awareness culture, 34 disaster prevention culture, 356–57 disaster prevention learning, 361–62 Disaster Relief Act, 16 discrimination against nuclear refugees, 29, 251, 252, 264–65 Dispute Settlement Center for Nuclear Disaster Compensation, 262 Earthquake Research Institute, 21 earthquakes: impact on economy, 29; response in China to, 36; warning system, 37 Eastern Coastal Region, 46, 52–53 elderly victims of 2011 tsunami, 15 electronic industries, 29–30

472  Index Enpo Sanriku tsunami, 59 environmental pollution victims, 253 Family Mart, 30, 308, 314 Federation of Electric Power Companies, 219 fishing industry, 12, 14, 16; recovery of, 19 food industry, 4; radiation in, 22–23 Ford, 29, 31 foreigners in Japan, 34–35 Fudaimura, 454 fuel cells, 27 Fukui, Japan, 225 Fukushima, 4, 18, 27, 32, 39, 57, 74, 104, 154, 181, 205, 225, 257, 302; accident, 10, 26, 28, 189, 213, 226, 229, 459; commercial farming in, 12, 236; convenience stores in, 312; debris in, 457; disciplinary action against nuclear plant bureaucrats, 211; distribution systems in, 309; evacuation area, 230, 264; fishery in, 236, 237, 261; ghost towns, 264; government reaction to crisis, 19; homes for nuclear disaster evacuees, 18, 40; industries in, 235; in Japanese literature, 95; nuclear power plants, 9, 19, 24–25; outmigration from, 15; people who remain evacuated, 457; pollution distribution in, 229–30, 237; population distribution in, 233; radiation in, 22, 25; radioactive contamination in, 239–48; river fish in, 248; seafood production, 20, 247; spent fuel pools, 194; world response to accident, 459–60 Fukushima International Association, 386 Fukushima University, 263 Futaba, Japan, 4, 15, 447 Futaba Fault, 233, 261 General Motors, 31 Genji Monogatari (The Tale of Genji), 83 Genroku Kanto tsunami, 59 Geospatial Information Authority of Japan (GSI), 111 Geospatial Survey Institute (GSI), 291

geospatial technology, 29; integration with social media, 299; role in disaster response, 289, 291–92 Gotenba City, Japan, 261 Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake, 81, 92–94, 380–82 Great Kanto Earthquake, 81, 90–92 Great Tangshan Earthquake (China), 417–24; damage classified as “national secrets,” 419 Habitat for Humanity Japan, 371 Hamadori, 233 Hanawa Town, Japan, 241 Hatori tsunami model, 47–48 Heian period, 82; tsunami and earthquakes in literature of, 83 Hirono, 333 Hiroshima, 80, 192, 209, 213, 224, 253, 266, 418, 455 Hitachi, 30 Hoei tsunami, 59 Hojoki, 83–84 Hokuto City, 260 Honda Motors, 29, 32, 317, 321 Iitate Village, Japan, 230, 236, 243, 245 Indian Ocean tsunami, 39, 117, 447; contrasts with Sanriku tsunami, 448– 55; damage to coastal aquaculture, 452; degradation of ecosystem, 452; impact on livelihoods, 451; lessons from, 458–59; and mental health problems, 452 Industrial Science and Technology Agency, Japan, 216–17 Inochi Tendenko, 173 Iris Ohyama Corporation, 322 Ishigaki Island, 65 Ishinomaki City, Japan, 1, 21, 34, 76, 104, 179, 457 Ishinomaki Plains, 107, 109, 119, 134, 447; coastal change in, 117; tsunami in, 113–16 Iwaizumi, Japan, 333 Iwaki City, Fukushima Prefecture, 241, 257, 260, 264, 323, 325 Iwanuma City, 175

Index  473   Iwate International Association, 383 Iwate Prefecture, 14, 40, 104, 109, 154, 246, 320, 323; convenience stores in, 312; damage to distribution systems, 309; damage to fishing industry, 14; dead and missing in, 168, 331, 333; outmigration from, 15, 457; people still remaining evacuated, 457; replacement homes for tsunami survivors, 18; rubble from tsunami in, 265, 457 Iwate University, 160, 168, 170, 360 Japan: Brazilians in, 35, 387; Chinese in, 35, 387, 390; energy generation in, 190; Filipinos in, 35, 387; foreigners in, 34–35, 380; Koreans in, 35, 387; media coverage of the disaster in, 424–25; non-Japanese speakers in, 379, 387–91; nuclear energy industry in, 210; plutonium stockpile in, 195; political structure of, 211; rebuilding after 3/11, 35–36; trust in government of, 205; Vietnamese in, 35 Japan Atomic Energy Research Institute, 217 Japan Deep, 121 Japanese culture, 20 Japanese Fisheries Agency, 14, 19 Japan Football Association, 261 Japan International Training Cooperation Organization (JITCO), 388 Japan Meteorological Agency, 49, 146, 427, 435 Japan National Police Agency, 1 Japan Reconstruction Agency, 39 Japan Red Cross, 264 Japan’s Financial Services Agency, 24 Japan’s Self-Defense Forces, 22 Jawaharlal Nehru Institute of Postgraduate Medical Education and Research, 453 Jodogahama, Japan, 10, 450, 457 Jogan tsunami earthquake, 65, 82, 109, 139 Kamaishi, Japan, 1, 6, 7, 14, 104, 109, 111, 119, 333, 337, 343, 447, 457

Kamaishi Bay, 21 Kamakura, Japan, 59 Kanazawa, Japan, 63–64 Kancheepuram, India, 451 Kakuda Basin, Japan, 320–23 Kanegasaki Town, 323 Kanei tsunami, 59 Katsurao Village, Japan, 230 Kaveri Delta, India, 451 Kawamata Town, Japan, 231, 245 Keidanren (Japanese Business Federation), 189, 213; role in nuclear power development, 221 Keihin Corporation, 321, 322, 323 Kesennuma, Japan, 1, 8, 40, 76, 104, 111, 119, 337, 453, 457 Kessen River, 17 Kii Peninsula, 63 Kirin, 32 Kitakami City, Japan, 320, 324 Kitakami River, 107 Kobe earthquake (Great Hanshin-Awaji), 17, 47, 271, 400, 455; cost of recovery from, 402; lessons from, 380–81 Kohriyama City, Japan, 324 Koori Town, Japan, 242 Koriyama City, Japan, 257, 258, 260 Koyatori village, Japan, 125 Kuji, Japan, 333 Kumamoto, Japan, 63, 157 Kushiro City, Japan, 263 Kyoto University, 225, 257 Kyushu Region, 46, 62–63, 323 Lawson, 30, 308 Liberal Democratic Party, 17, 28, 189, 191, 210, 213, 219 liquefaction, 435–36 MacArthur, Douglas, 210 Marubeni Corporation, 27 Marumori Town, Japan, 320 Matsukawaura Bay, 79 Meiji Restoration, 11, 86 Meiji Sanriku tsunami, 58, 81, 90, 109, 121, 149, 162, 165 Meio tsunami, 59 mental health disorders, 15–16, 452–53

474  Index Mie Prefecture, 60–61 Minamata City, 254, 267 Minamisanriku, 1, 8, 22, 457 Minami-Soma City, Japan, 231, 242, 245, 261, 263, 394 Minamisoma International Association (MSIA), 394 Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries, 39, 175 Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry (METI), 194, 211, 219, 220 Mitsubishi Electric, 30 Mitsui and Company, 27 Miyagi Prefecture, 14, 104, 109, 111, 154, 175, 246, 320, 322; convenience stores in, 312; damage to agricultural land, 179–80; distribution systems in, 309; fishing industry in, 14, 20; food and water safety in, 277; outmigration from, 15, 457; people evacuated from, 457; replacement homes for survivors, 18; rubble created by tsunami in, 265, 457 Miyagi International Association, 383 Miyako City, Japan, 104, 109, 111, 119, 138, 153, 160–61, 333, 337, 352, 383, 449, 454, 457; dead and missing in, 155 Morioka, Japan, 138, 168, 383 Mount Fuji, 60

education, 34, 332, 359; and postdisaster reconstruction, 455–56 NEC Electronics, 30 Nihonkai Chubu Coast tsunami, 64 Nihonmatsu City, Japan, 258, 456 Niigata, 225 Nippon Steel, 14 Nissan, 30–31, 317, 323 Noda, Japan, 333 North American plate, 117, 146 Noto Peninsula, 63 Nuclear and Industrial Safety Agency (NISA), 26, 211 Nuclear Energy Institute, 194 nuclear power: in China, 196, 198; in France, 198; in Germany, 197; in India, 199; in South Korea, 196, 198; in Taiwan, 198; in United Kingdom, 197; in United States, 197 nuclear power in Japan, 9, 11, 15, 28; anti-nuclear movement, 192–94; anti–nuclear power scholars, 225; budget for development of, 217; government support of, 204; history of, 191; links between politicians and nuclear industry, 19, 214–20; location of power plants, 225; newspapers and, 223; prospects of, 190; safety of plants, 193; weaknesses in, 26; world response to, 450

Nagapattinam, India, 451 Nagasaki, 80, 192, 209, 213, 224, 266, 455 Nagoya, 4 Namie Town, Japan, 231, 261, 264 Nanakita River, 107 Naraha Town, Japan, 261 National Research Institute for Earth Science and Disaster Prevention (NIED), 291 Natori City, 175 Natori River, 107 natural disaster crisis mapping, 290; “defeat nature” ideology, 418–19, 424, 427; and estimating vulnerability, 447; and fiscal preparedness, 35, 398, 407–9; and media coverage in China and Japan, 424–27; and mitigation

Odawara, 59 Ofunato, 1, 7, 104, 111, 149, 163, 333, 341, 342, 447, 453, 457; All Hands Volunteers in, 364–76 Oji Paper, 27 Okinawa Region, 46, 65 Okirai Elementary School, 342 Okuma, 4, 261 Onagawa, 21–22, 111, 112, 119, 457; aquaculture in, 124–25, 132; development prospects of, 134; fishing and related industries, 131, 135; nuclear power station in, 125; population of, 121, 126; recovery and redevelopment, 128; regional economy of, 123–24, 126; renewal plan of, 129

Index  475   Open Source Geospatial Foundation Japan (OSGeo Japan), 291 Oriental Land Company, 4 Osaka, 4 Oshima-Oshima volcano, 47 Oshima Peninsula, 63 Otama Village, Japan, 241 Otsuchi, Japan, 1, 7, 40, 111, 333–34 Pacific plate, 117 picture story show, 165 Pioneer (company), 32 Pondicherry, India, 451, 453 post-traumatic stress, 15 radiation: cancer deaths related to, 191; cleanup of contaminated areas, 25–27; cultural impact, 261; decontamination costs, 258; discrimination against victims, 29; fear of, 20, 27, 209; health damage from, 256–58; impact on international student enrollment, 265; impact on tourism, 265; mapping, 290, 301; network of parents to protect children from, 280, 283; paranoia, 4; psychological burden, 259, 262–63, 265 radioactive contamination, 4, 25; anxiety about, 27; in beef cattle, 22; decontamination, 455; information on, 282; in rice, 22, 261–62; of soil, 23 Reconstruction Agency, 16 refugees. See discrimination against nuclear refugees ria coast, 138, 162 Rikuchu Coast, 155 Rikuchu Kaigan National Park, 10, 138, 450 Rikuzentakata, 1, 8, 39, 57, 104, 111, 337, 447, 457; dead and missing, 453; damage from disaster, 9, 309; population evacuated from, 333; reconstruction in, 17; seawalls, 334 Rokkasho reprocessing plant, 192, 195 Sanriku Coast, 1, 7, 8, 10, 15, 39, 49, 90, 109, 111, 117, 163, 331, 454;

challenge of reconstruction, 17; contrasts with Tamil Nadu coast (India), 448–55; dead and missing, 334; evacuees and shelters, 335; in literature, 94–97; relocation of villages and towns, 18; tsunami, 46, 65, 68, 74, 81–83, 87–89 Sanriku Coastal Region, 53–58, 63, 66, 68, 109, 313, 316, 453 Sakanamachi, Japan, 1 seafood industry, 19–20, 133 Sea of Japan Region, 63–64; nuclear plants in, 193 seawalls, 5, 142–43, 163, 353–54, 427, 455, 457; Fudaimura wall, 37; Rikuzentakata wall, 334; Taro walls, 143, 346 SeikoMart, 30 Sekisui Homes, 27 Sendai, 5, 8, 32, 58, 76, 104, 134, 175, 457; damage to airport, 9; damage to farming, 22; disaster experience of a mother in, 29, 270–75; farmland around, 14; non-Japanese students in, 390–91; parents’ struggle against radioactive contamination in, 275– 80; port industrial park, 310 Sendai International Association, 384 Sendai Plain, 104–7, 109, 119, 139, 175; coastal change in, 117; cultivated area in, 176, 179; desalinization of, 181–82; revival of agriculture in, 183–84; tsunami in, 113–16 7-Eleven, 30, 308, 310 Shakotan Peninsula, 63 Shimabara, 63 Shimabara Mayuyama tsunami, 62 Shimoda, Japan, 60–61 Shirakawa City, Japan, 324 Shizuoka Prefecture, 60–61, 88, 193 Showa Nankai earthquake of 1946, 16 Showa Sanriku tsunami, 46–47, 56, 109, 140, 160–62, 165–66, 169–70 Société General, 35 solar power, 27 Soma City, 242–43 Sony, 32 Southern Kanto Region, 58–59

476  Index Tabata, Yoshi, 148, 160, 163–69, 357, 360 Taisho Kanto earthquake, 47 Tamura City, Japan, 241, 323 Tanohata, Japan, 333 Taro, Japan, 21–22, 112, 138, 147, 160, 163, 454; dead and missing, 155; destruction on coastline, 155; Disaster Prevention Radio, 144; elementary school gymnasium, 153; evacuation routes, 144, 351; fishing industry, 156, 164; fishing port, 150; risk management in, 345; seawalls, 142–44, 150, 347; Tide Level Monitoring System, 145 Taro Daiichi Elementary School, 170 Taro Daiichi Junior High School, 161, 172, 360 Taro Daisan Elementary School, 168 Taro First Junior High School, 347, 349, 351–52, 360 Taro Municipal Daycare Center, 352 Tashiro River, 163 tendenko, 172, 331–32, 341, 344–45, 353 Tenmei tsunami, 59 Tokyo Electric Power Company (TEPCO), 9–10, 15, 24–26, 40, 191, 194, 195, 204, 206, 213, 255, 257, 262, 424, 426, 428–29; compensation for decontamination, 258; culture of company, 263; failure to disclose information, 205, 220; and media, 221; support for nuclear research, 224 Texas Instruments, 30 Three Mile Island, 27, 459 Tochigi Prefecture, 246, 312 Tohoku, 74, 104, 331; automobile assembly factories, 317–26; destruction of seafood processing facilities, 21; displaced families in, 24; distribution systems in, 307; five-year plan for reconstruction of, 17; geography, economy, and society of, 10–16; industrialization in, 317–20; recovery processes of distribution systems, 309–14; universities and colleges in, 5 Tohoku Electric Power Company, 125 Tokachi Coast tsunami, 47 Tokai Coast, 60, 323, 325

Tokai-Nan Kaido Region, 46, 59–62 Tomioka, Japan, 261 Tokaimura, Japan, 195, 217 Tokyo, 322; disaster experience of a mother in, 29, 270, 280–83; Disneyland, 4–5; life after earthquake and tsunami in, 4; Olympic Games, 17, 27; Tsukiji fish market, 14 Tokyo Bay, 32, 61; damage from liquefaction, 435 Tokyo Metropolitan Government, 281 Toni Elementary School, 343 Toshiba, 30 Tottori Prefecture, 400–401 Toyama, 64 Toyota Motor Corporation, 27, 31, 317, 323; closure of factories, 30; disruption of supply chains, 32 Tsukuba, 265 Tsushima district, 230 tsunami: altitude and evacuation time, 354–55; breakdown of global supply chain from, 454, 457; cause of tsunami, 47; cost of 2011, 35; confirmed deaths of children, 269; damage to agricultural land from, 179; dead and missing, 155, 251; dead and missing students, 334; debris from, 154, 157, 265, 457; definition of, 49; discrimination against victims of, 251, 264; education, 146, 357–59; experience of facing, 20; highest altitude of, 337; history of, 20, 22; impact on children, 269; impact on distribution systems, 30, 307; and Internet, 269; in Japanese literature, 20; and literature in modern times, 86; mapping, 289; measures of power, 47; observation system, 144; picture story shows, 22, 160, 357; prediction systems, 145, 147; progress of reconstruction in damaged areas, 35; rebuilding after, 455, 457; regions, 45; and social media, 288; and volunteer organizations, 364– 77; schools in tsunami-prone areas, 337–43; and support for non-Japanese residents, 382–87; travel times, 51; warning systems, 45, 49

Index  477   T. T. Ranganathan Clinical Research Foundation, 453 UNIQLO, 308 United Nations Department of Development Support and Management Services, 422 United Nations International Atomic Energy Agency, 25 University of Tokyo, 210, 218; Institute of Nuclear Power Research, 224 Urayasu City, Japan, 37–38, 453; damage from liquefaction, 435–36; response to disaster, 440–42 U.S. Army, 153 Vidyasagar Institute of Mental Health and Neuroscience, 453 Volkswagen, 31

Wajima, 64 Wakayama, 60, 62, 86 Watari Town, 175–76 Yamada, Japan, 111, 156, 333–34 Yamada Denki, 308 Yamagata Prefecture, 64, 77, 320, 325 Yamakiya district, 231, 309 Yamamoto Folklore Society, 80 Yamamoto Town, 74, 76–77, 106, 175–76 Yamamoto waterfront, 14 Yamato clan, 10 Yasuhiro Nakasone, 210, 214–15, 217–19, 224, 226 Yayoi era, 11 Yeyama tsunami, 65 Yonezawa City, Japan, 320, 324 Yoshimura, Akira, 169 Yucatán Peninsula, 47

Asia in the New Millennium Series Editor: Shiping Hua, University of Louisville Asia in the New Millennium is a series of books offering new interpretations of an important geopolitical region. The series examines the challenges and opportunities of Asia from the perspectives of politics, economics, and culturalhistorical traditions, highlighting the impact of Asian developments on the world. Of particular interest are books on the history and prospect of the democratization process in Asia. The series also includes policy-oriented works that can be used as teaching materials at the undergraduate and graduate levels. Innovative manuscript proposals at any stage are welcome. Advisory Board William Callahan, University of Manchester, Southeast Asia, Thailand Lowell Dittmer, University of California at Berkeley, East Asia and South Asia Robert Hathaway, Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars, South   Asia, India, Pakistan Mike Mochizuki, George Washington University, East Asia, Japan, and Korea Peter Moody, University of Notre Dame, China and Japan Brantly Womack, University of Virginia, China and Vietnam Charles Ziegler, University of Louisville, Central Asia and Russia Far East Books in the Series The Future of China-Russia Relations Edited by James Bellacqua North Korea and the World: Human Rights, Arms Control, and Strategies for Negotiation Walter C. Clemens Jr. Contemporary Chinese Political Thought: Debates and Perspectives Edited by Fred Dallmayr and Zhao Tingyang China Looks at the West: Identity, Global Ambitions, and the Future of SinoAmerican Relations Christopher A. Ford The Mind of Empire: China’s History and Modern Foreign Relations Christopher A. Ford

State Violence in East Asia Edited by N. Ganesan and Sung Chull Kim Challenges to Chinese Foreign Policy: Diplomacy, Globalization, and the Next World Power Edited by Yufan Hao, C. X. George Wei, and Lowell Dittmer The Price of China’s Economic Development: Power, Capital, and the Poverty of Rights Zhaohui Hong Japan after 3/11: Global Perspectives on the Earthquake, Tsunami, and Fukushima Meltdown Edited by Pradyumna P. Karan and Unryu Suganuma Korean Democracy in Transition: A Rational Blueprint for Developing Societies HeeMin Kim Modern Chinese Legal Reform: New Perspectives Edited by Xiaobing Li and Qiang Fang Democracy in Central Asia: Competing Perspectives and Alternative Strategies Mariya Y. Omelicheva China’s Encounter with Global Hollywood: Cultural Policy and the Film Industry, 1994–2013 Wendy Su Growing Democracy in Japan: The Parliamentary Cabinet System since 1868 Brian Woodall Inside China’s Grand Strategy: The Perspective from the People’s Republic Ye Zicheng, Edited and Translated by Steven I. Levine and Guoli Liu Civil Society and Politics in Central Asia Edited by Charles E. Ziegler