Jean-Pierre Lehmann
"The Clash of Communities: Japan and the International Political Disorder"

Original Electronic Texts at the Japan web site of Mt. Holyoke.

Almost thirty years after the initial outbreak of violence in Northern Ireland, it looks as if the peace process may bear some results. There is no shortage of intellectual explanations for the Northern Irish tragedy, but it nevertheless remains incomprehensible to most people that such sectarian barbarity --the murder and maiming of so many innocent people--could have been sustained for so long. The Northern Irish phenomenon, however, corresponds to a fairly universal pattern. As the twentieth century comes to an end, it is striking how hatred--especially, indeed emphatically, hatred of one's neighbor--remains such a powerful force.

What could be called a hatred matrix contains many different possibilities and permutations. Religions (especially religious differences) play a crucial role. Jews and Muslims are at each others' throats in the Middle East, as are Christians and Muslims in Lebanon, the former Yugoslavia, and the Philippines. Animosity between Hindus and Muslims in India has a long and bloody history. Christian hostility (to put it mildly) toward Jews was once again sadly manifested recently at the 50th anniversary ceremony of the liberation of the Auschwitz death camp, when Polish president Lech Walesa managed to make a speech without once referring to the massacre of the Jews.

In Algeria, though Islamic fundamentalist terrorists are engaged in indiscriminate killing, including foreigners, most of the killings are done by Muslims to other Muslims. On a broader Muslim canvas, there are also the divisions between the Shi'a and the Sunni sects. Intra-Christian rivalries can be illustrated by the example of Protestants versus Catholics in Northern Ireland cited above, but also by that of Christian Orthodox Serbs versus Catholic Croats, and many others. Tensions between Jew and Jew are not far below the surface, especially between Ashkenazi Jews from Eastern Europe and Sephardic Jews from the Mediterranean region. Religious communities therefore may often have a common external enemy, but what is also remarkable is the degree to which internal enemies are generated in virtually all major religions, most prominently in the monotheistic ones.

Religion is just one cause of communitarian strife. Ethnicity, race, language, or simply the destiny of history are other powerful causes. Thus, more than three decades after civil rights legislation and the inspiring "I have a dream" speech of Martin Luther King, black and white communities in the United States remain divided, and relations are often tense. If the exterior differences between white and black skin are striking--and thereby render hostility understandable, if reprehensible--other communal divisions seem more baffling. The cases of the Basques, the Kurds, and the Armenians, who on the surface would seem to blend completely in their surroundings (an ordinary Basque is indistinguishable from an ordinary Spaniard), are among the more puzzling aspects of animosity.

The resentments, tensions, hostilities, and violence found in one form or another in most countries are products of history. Blacks resent whites in the United States not simply because of discrimination, but also because of the great injustice of history, the slave trade. Countless variations exist on historical myth and historical grudge, and on what events or forces may stand out in the collective memory of any particular community.

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A fairly moderate example can be drawn from the region where I keep my residence in France, the Vendee. Just over two hundred years ago the natives of the Vendee fought a civil war against the forces of the Revolution. The Vendeens (as they are called) were trounced. In 1995 there is no "Vendee problem" in France comparable to the Basque problem in Spain or indeed the Corsican problem in France; that is, there are no separatist--let alone terrorist--movements. Nevertheless, the influence of history can be seen when walking into any book shop in the Vendee; one sees a variety of publications on the eighteenth century Vendee wars. The Vendeens remain acutely conscious of what is widely perceived in the collective memory as a great historical injustice, but the rest of France remains fairly oblivious to this particular "grudge."

Communities vs. Civilizations

The title of this article was obviously inspired from Samuel Huntington's very famous Foreign Affairs article in the summer of 1993, "The Clash of Civilizations?" The distinction I wish to draw might be illustrated by the following anecdote. In October 1992 I attended a conference in London entitled "The New Europe in the Global Environment" sponsored by the Yomiuri Shimbun and the Independent. At one point a Japanese participant raised a question about "Japan-bashing" in Europe, to which the very distinguished scholar and politician Lord Dahrendorf replied, "We have no time for Japan-bashing in Europe; we are too busy bashing each other." Dahrendorf's remarks were not meant and should not be read as a joke. Earlier he had spoken in the most distressed terms of the barbarity of that abysmal term "ethnic cleansing," which had reentered the political vocabulary.

Although Samuel Huntington's article has been widely criticized from a variety of political perspectives, I personally found it stimulating, though there are many aspects of it that I find questionable. As should be clear from what I am writing here, however, my own view is that the clash of communities is a far greater and more imminent threat than the clash of civilizations. As Dahrendorf indicated, and as has also forcefully been developed recently by the remarkable twentieth century historical study by Eric Hobsbawn, The Age of Extremes, what is most striking (and immensely distressing) about the end of this century is the degree to which the world is returning to the most primitive form of barbarism.

Thus, while there are "frictions" of various forms between, say, China and the United States over both intellectual property and human rights, and while both these nations possess advanced nuclear military capability, the scenario of a nuclear war between China and the United States remains reasonably remote. Although technology, including military technology, has become immensely more sophisticated in recent decades, the kind of communal killing going on is undertaken generally with very primitive technology--perhaps a shotgun, a bombing device, but also often with a knife, a rock, or a pair of fists.

The clashes of communities demonstrate two salient points. The first is that they can easily proliferate. What is happening in Algeria appears to be having a spillover effect in Egypt, and may ultimately have an effect on some of the other Maghreb countries. The second is that the clashes can generate broader conflicts at Huntington's "civilization" level. There can be no doubt that the Muslim world, including Muslims all across the political spectrum (that is, moderates to radicals), is incensed at the West's inaction in the face of the Bosnian tragedy, thus exacerbating the "clash of civilizations" between Muslims and Christians. In East Asia a scenario could be envisaged in which, for example, socio-economic and political turmoil in Indonesia might result, as in 1965, in hostilities toward and massacres of the Chinese minority there. With China currently in its resurgent nationalistic, and possibly expansionist, mood, the prospect of Chinese military intervention in Indonesia should not be discarded.

From a somewhat different perspective on the issue of regional versus global tensions, there is no doubt, as indicated above, that there are and will be tensions between, for example, the West and China; indeed, perhaps also between the West and Japan. In both situations, the cause of conflict is, on the surface, economic. Deeper down, the cultural (or civilizational) dimension may well be prominent. Still, as things stand now, the prospects of a war between the West and China, let alone between the West and Japan, are very, very remote. Wars generally occur within a society (as in Lebanon and Algeria) or between neighboring countries. The latest variation of this latter pattern is the showdown between Peru and Ecuador.

Similarly, scenarios of conflict in East Asia would at least initially focus more on those within the region; especially between a resurgent China, a unified (and hence nuclearized) Korea and a defensive Japan. Wars across continents and between civilizations have of course occurred and may well occur again, but a priori they are more unlikely than wars between neighbors. This is partly because of the much greater expense and the far more complex logistics involved, but also because wars between states are often caused by disputes over borders. Conflicting claims over the Spratley Islands may therefore serve as a more probable casus belli between China and its neighbors than between the United States and China over differing Confucianist and Christian interpretations of intellectual property rights!

This chaotic and turbulent world at the end of the twentieth century has an almost infinite number of fault lines. George Bush's famous (and rather silly) remark about a "new world order" has proved to be the opposite of what has occurred. Not since World War II has the world been in such disorder. The clash of communities, as stressed here, is one of the major sources of instability and inhumanity.

The Japanese Experience and Perspective

Communal tensions in Japan are either non-existent or are minimized by being effectively brushed under the carpet. In this respect, more than in any other, Japan is really very different. Thus if "fighting yesterday's battles" is characteristic of most of the world's societies, the syndrome seems conspicuous by its absence in Japan. Not so long ago Japan was still divided into some three hundred or more fiefs (han), with, in some instances, strong forces of particularism. In the process of unification leading up to the Meiji Restoration, military hostilities were rife. One example is the invasion of Aizu by Satsuma forces. Yet in the city of Aizu (today known as Akamatsu), local book shops, unlike in the Vendee, are not stacked with publications on this "tragic" event. Similarly, in respect to the uprising and brief civil war that occurred in 1877, its leader, Saigo Takamori, may have become something of a local legend, but he is better known as a national figure; he is not a historical hero who inspires a potential "Kagoshima Liberation Front." The very thought would strike Japanese as absurd; indeed, in a Japanese context it is absurd. But it is precisely that kind of absurdity that motivates a good deal of humanity elsewhere.

Many Japanese writers and politicians, especially former Prime Minister Nakasone Yasuhiro, like to stress the fundamental homogeneity of the Japanese people. At one level it is true that there are, especially in the domain of religion, comparatively few centrifugal forces in Japan. Homogeneity, however, may be more in the eye of the beholder, more a figment of the imagination, than objective reality. One could expect, for example, that South Koreans would be very homogenous. Yet one finds that the particularism of, say, the people of Cholla remains very strong. In China, linguistic, historical, and other divisions exert centrifugal pressures even among the Han Chinese, not to mention the Tibetans, Uighurs, and other minorities. Thus the Japanese homogeneity is in some sense a reality, but the alleged roots of its existence are more myth than fact. Certainly history would provide ample opportunities for various regions and groups to feel resentful towards other regions or towards Tokyo. In fact, however, not only do most Japanese not engage, as suggested above, in fighting yesterday's battles, they have, to a large extent forgotten--indeed erased--history.

One of the most extraordinary achievements of Japan is the abolishment of individual particularisms of the fiefs; they have been transformed into a vast national particularism. To put it another way, whereas most of the world is still plagued with internal tribal conflict (Catholic and Protestant tribes in Northern Ireland, Dutch and French-speaking tribes in Belgium, Christian and Muslim tribes in Lebanon, Tamil and Singhalese tribes in Sri Lanka, ad infinitum), Japan has emerged as one vast tribe of 124 million people. The great Japanese myth, therefore, is that there is no enemy within, only enemies outside.

At one level this is admirable. Japan is not only "homogenous," but it lives in harmony with itself. It is certainly among the most peaceful countries in the world. The "familism" of the Japanese people was apparent and remarked on again recently on the occasion of the Hanshin earthquake, in that no civil disruption, looting, or other social maladies occurred.

There is, however, a darker side to this nationalized particularism. As many authors have often repeated, the homogeneity and familism of the Japanese nation render them less empathetic to the outside world. Japanese are often insensitive, sometimes appallingly so. The particularism of the Japanese people has also been an impediment to the development of a more universal perspective, or, as David Williams in his brilliant book, Japan: Beyond the End of History, has put it: "What [some] Japanese intellectuals have sought in place of Japanese universalism is universal recognition of the superiority of Japanese particularism."

By projecting the enemy as invariably external, the result may occasionally be not only distasteful, but quite bizarre. In most societies, dislike and discrimination are reserved for internal social elements as perceived enemies or pollutants, or both. Japan, however, is different, and it is in this context that the pernicious side of the harmonious-Japanese family syndrome can manifest itself. Thus the rising chorus and occasional outbursts of anti-Semitism in Japan are truly extraordinary. In Japan, where there are no Japanese Jews apart from the rare convert, anti-Semitism makes as much sense as a hypothetical anti-gypsy movement in Thailand.

As mentioned above, a more negative derivative of the all-embracing national Japanese particularism that is constantly nurtured by a great deal of internal sensitivity--that is, sensitivity vis-ˆ-vis fellow Japanese--is a corresponding lack of sensitivity to outsiders. Thus the Japanese often seem surprised that Jews (and others) get upset when one of Japan's leading and respected publishers runs an article denying the existence of the holocaust, just as the Chinese (and others) get upset when Japanese cabinet ministers or other prominent officials deny or downplay the existence of the Nanjing massacre. Japan's national particularism has resulted in a greater degree of self-centeredness than one would find elsewhere.

The way Japan has dealt with its experience has contributed significantly to its efforts at nation-building. The achievement of having inhabitants of Mito, Satsuma, Aizu, and other areas forget their historical grievances is impressive. Putting a tight lid on problems that minorities in Japan might face, besides the taboo of discussing these issues in the national mainstream press, may also have positive effects in preserving internal harmony. However, internal pacification has its painful side-effects: enemies or bogeymen tend to always come from the outside, as the strange case of anti-Semitism in Japan illustrates.

Japan's Role?

As the debate about Japan's role in the world and status in international organizations--especially its desire to have a permanent seat on the United Nations Security Council--proceeds, this crucial issue of the clash of communities and its global effects needs to be addressed. In this context, given Japan's potential as role model in light of its extraordinary achievements in achieving domestic peace and harmony, Japan's leadership position should be assured. The reverse side of that particular coin, however, is its lack of experience of intracommunitarian strife; it is not in a position to understand what that phenomenon is all about, let alone be able to decide or even advise on what course of action should be taken.

As I have commented on occasion regarding Japan's desire to have a permanent seat on the UNSC, it is not so much that one would not wish Japan to have a seat; it's just difficult to imagine what the Japanese would say once they had it. Japanese participants at international conferences on global political or geopolitical affairs are notoriously silent, giving the impression that they either do not understand the proceedings or are not interested; perhaps it is a combination of both. This incomprehension, coupled with its fairly widespread lack of sensitivity, may preclude it from taking a leadership position.

Jean-Pierre Lehmann is Director of the European Institute of Japanese Studies, Stockholm School of Economics.


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