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In Bridge Across the Pacific, Marvin Matthews proves himself to be a truly unsavory character, with no business teaching in Japan. His opinions about the country were also shaped in no small form by a guidebook on Japan called The Land BeYond (the 'Y' in the actual novel is replaced with the yen sign). In the sequel (self-imposed deadline: March 2010 or earlier), Marvin is back in the country, and still relying on the information provided by the guidebook. The following is a draft of an excerpt that I hope to include in the sequel, in which the author of The Land Beyond attempts to explain the reality behind the apparent Japanese arrogance which so infuriates Marvin. The author considers himself (laughably) somewhat of an intellectual and (even more mistakenly) an expert on Japan, and his explanation is dubious at best (although, oddly, there are a number of people in real life who would believe this nonsense!).
Toward the end of the American occupation of Japan following World War II, Douglas MacArthur, the brilliant general appointed by the military brass to oversee the American efforts to get Japan back on its feet, famously declared that the nation could be likened, both mentally and emotionally, to a twelve year old child. This upset many in the country, not because what he said was untrue , but rather because the general had stated, with pinpoint accuracy, what they already knew, and had desperately hoped to keep hidden from the rest of the world.
Equating the Japanese psyche to that of a young child is indeed a fair assessment, and goes a long way in explaining the often strained relationship the country has with the United States. If we extend MacArthur’s analogy, it becomes apparent that Japan is not merely a small child, but a fearful and envious one at that. Namely, it plays the role of little brother, one that forever lags behind the bigger, stronger and more advanced sibling that is the United States. Nowhere is this more evident than in the famous photograph taken during the occupation in which MacArthur is standing next to the emperor Hirohito. The two men are a study in contrast. MacArthur appears relaxed and supremely confident, towering over the frail looking and ill-at-ease emperor. In other words, he is the older brother—one who has persevered and emerged triumphant through life’s hardships—whereas Hirohito is the little boy who needs and craves guidance from his more mature sibling.
The sibling analogy goes beyond mere physical differences, of course. The United States is also the greatest military and economic power in the world, with Japan trailing far behind. Much is made of the supposed Japanese economic “miracle” of the 1970s and 80s. However, even at its peak, it never reached a level higher than second-best, still far behind the United States. Indeed, despite those who criticize MacArthur for being insensitive, the fact remains that he was absolutely correct. Even today, the big brother-little brother comparison is apt, and accurately depicts the yawning gulf between the two countries.
However, like all little brothers, Japan suffers from great bouts of envy, recognizing that it is not as polished as its older sibling, but at the same time wishing to step out of the shadow of the United States, and make a name for itself. As such, the Japanese are prone to overstating their self-perceived international influence, stubbornly (and yes, childishly) playing up their importance, trying to make themselves look good, most often at the expense of the United States. That is the primary reason why they constantly exaggerate the greatness of their country; they hope that if they repeat it often and loudly enough, they will be able to convince both themselves and the foreigners in their land (who are assumed to be Americans regardless of actual nationality) they so envy that their claims are valid. In other words, the near endless boasting about Japan is a desperate attempt at pride building. Moreover, and what most foreigners do not actually realize, this self-congratulatory talk is not limited simply to when the Japanese are in conversation with visitors from other countries; it occurs at all times. It is especially apparent in the content of popular television programs. “We’re number #1!” is a constant rallying cry of endless variety shows that appear nightly. Nearly every other show seemingly focuses on a Japanese person’s attempt to get himself into the Guinness Book of World Records, as if being the most skillful at breaking watermelons with one’s head, or creating the world’s largest omelet is a matter of immense national pride. It is no coincidence, moreover, that the records most often targeted are those held by Americans. They are frantic endeavors by the Japanese entirely designed to assuage their egos, so that they may congratulate themselves and say, in effect, “See, we’re better than big brother.” Not surprisingly, of course, most of these attempts to enter the pages of Guinness result in failure; the world records the Japanese so wish to eclipse remain intact, never really in danger of being broken. However, these unsuccessful attempts are rarely, if ever, actually broadcast, and in fact are not even mentioned. Viewers see only the success stories, leading to the misguided belief that the Japanese succeed at every task they undertake.
Successful endeavors abroad are replayed endlessly on television as well. This is especially true in the world of sports. There are a number of Japanese baseball players who currently play in the American Major Leagues. Although a very small number have proven to be exceptional, most are marginal players, average at best. However, you would never know this by the way Japanese television lavishes praise upon them, and broadcasts repeatedly any instance of success they may have achieved. If a Japanese player, for example, comes to bat five times in a given game, and strikes out four times, but manages to hit a soft single once, highlights of the base hit are shown over and over again to the people watching in Japan. The unsuccessful at bats are not likely to even be mentioned. Moreover, a Japanese pitcher may find himself being shelled in a game, giving up seven runs in only three innings, but if he manages to strike out one or two batters, there is no doubt as to what will be broadcast back home. Simply put, any example of a Japanese athlete getting the better of an American is what the Japanese public is shown. Furthermore, if a player happens to have a successful outing, but his team still loses, more times than not, after the highlights of the Japanese player’s triumphs are shown countless times, the camera will focus on the news anchorman, who will undoubtedly shake his head sadly and express disappointment over the fact that the player did all he could for the team, but was let down by his American teammates.
On the rare occasion that the failures of Japanese athletes playing abroad are broadcast, the media bends over backwards to provide excuses explaining how this could have possibly occurred. In baseball, if a Japanese pitcher has a bad outing in the Major Leagues, it is because the size of the ball he was throwing was bigger than what he was used to back in Japan. That the pitcher had been playing in the United States for several years—and should therefore have become used to the difference in size—is irrelevant. This is just one of many ludicrous excuses; there are countless more, covering just about any sport. In skiing, Japanese lack of success is because the quality of snow in foreign countries is different (and no doubt worse, the public will be informed) than that in Japan; golfers who struggle do so because the grass is cut at a different level or angle than what they are used to; swimmers lose to their foreign counterparts because the pool water level is either slightly higher or lower to that which exists in Japanese pools; in tournaments held abroad, judo team members unable to win gold medals are excused because they were unable to operate at full strength due to the lack of Japanese food available to them pre-competition. The list can go on endlessly. Never once is credit given to the foreign athletes who have proven themselves superior to their Japanese rival; instead, great pains are taken to justify each and every failure. Every one of the excuses is ridiculous, certainly, and reinforces the realization that the Japanese are indeed capable of behaving like children.
Television commercials are designed as well to boost the Japanese self-esteem, very often at the expense of the West. Any advertisement that features a Japanese and Westerner interacting together follows a basic theme. The Japanese is always portrayed as “smooth” and “cool,” while the Westerner is depicted as a bumbling clown. More often than not, the Westerner does something foolish in the commercial, and it is up to the Japanese to swoop in and save the day. This formula applies to almost any product being pitched, be it a cleaning appliance, car, or credit card. Of course, being a hero is not without its rewards. These commercials often feature very attractive Western women (inevitably equipped with blonde hair, blue eyes, and ample bosoms), who swoon over the Japanese character once he has finished saving the buffoonish Westerner from himself. The hero, of course, merely nods his head modestly in response to the adulation he receives. The message sent to Japanese viewers is that it is by no means out of the ordinary for beautiful female foreigners to adore Japanese men; in fact, it is something they can take for granted.
Television can often employ much nastier methods to demonstrate Japanese superiority. Not content with merely lauding the greatness of the Japanese in comparison with those people from other countries, hosts and participants on various shows will often launch all-out attacks on foreigners, belittling them whenever the opportunity presents itself. One common tactic is to portray foreigners as ridiculous in appearance. The method in doing so is not particularly inventive—in most cases, it consists of a Japanese person donning a blonde wig and attaching a giant fake nose. If it is a foreign woman being mocked, it is almost always a man playing the role, with pillows or cushions stuffed under his shirt (or dress) that are meant to represent giant breasts. It is all very juvenile (remember, this is a nation of children), but the studio audience reaction indicates enthusiastic approval. In a sense, to the Japanese, who are so insecure in the presence of foreigners, it is cathartic.
The shows do not stop merely at making fun of Western appearances, however. Often, the “Western” characters attempt to converse with one other in Japanese. However, the Japanese that comes out of their mouths is spoken with the absolute worst possible accent, perpetuating the myth that Westerners cannot possibly speak a language as complex as Japanese. It is ironic that the Japanese do this, considering that Japanese is in reality such a simple language to learn, and that most Westerners residing in Japan have a better grasp of it after three months than most Japanese do of English after six or more years of study.
Variety shows, while unpleasant, are merely entertainment and should not be taken seriously. More ominous is the manner in which foreigners are depicted in actual society. With almost astonishing regularity, matters of a criminal nature are blamed on the foreigners. If one were to believe everything reported in the news, in fact, he could easily be forgiven for concluding that nearly all crime in the country is committed by the foreign population. Statistics, of course, reveal that this is anything but the case. Foreigners, especially Westerners, are guilty of very few crimes, and percentage-wise, far less than the natives.
If they cannot find real crimes to blame on the foreigners, the Japanese will simply conjure them up. Here, in a rare instance of creativity, they actually are able to create some outlandish—and untrue —stories. It is almost mind-boggling that they would expect anybody to believe some of the tales they claim as fact, such as foreigners tripping people on the street, urinating on doors, or throwing bicycles at garbage trucks. Yet the people accept these fabrications verbatim, and solemnly talk about the danger that the foreign population poses to the country.
When not describing them in a mocking fashion, the Japanese are vigorous in their attempts to convince themselves that people in other lands hold a great interest in Japanese culture. Whenever a new Japanese restaurant opens in a city such as New York, for example, the Japanese media descends upon the scene, breathlessly reporting every detail about what is being consumed and by whom. Customers are accosted by these reporters, constantly asked for their impression of the ramen or tofu or raw fish they just ate. Being polite, and most likely not wanting to offend the millions of Japanese viewers who are hanging on every word of their response, most customers will offer unadorned praise, mostly along the lines of, “It was nice.” This simple compliment, however, upon translation into Japanese, will be twisted to convey the image that the customer is gushing over what seems to have been the most satisfying meal he has ever consumed. News anchors back in their studios will beam with delight (one can almost picture tears of joy rolling down their faces), and comment on this indisputable proof that Japanese cuisine is the best in the world, even, of course, if the customer probably could not fully appreciate it in the same manner as the Japanese. If the owner of the new restaurant happens to be non-Japanese, the reporter will also routinely comment that although the food is good, it is not quite up to the standards of “real” Japanese food. That is, there is something foreign about it, making it not quite authentic, and if customers like it nevertheless, one can only imagine how much they would love the “true thing.”
Japanese artists are also portrayed by the media as enjoying great success in countries such as the United States. One example of this is coverage of Japanese pop music artists when they embark upon an American tour. These artists, although enormously popular at home, are virtually unknown outside the shores of Japan. This is not surprising; Japanese pop music, after all, is universally reviled as a shallow copy of what is produced in the United States and other Western countries. “Big in Japan” has long been a joke in the music industry, referring to a Western artist with insufficient talent to succeed in his home country, who thus takes his trade to Japan, where the standards are significantly lower. Despite all of this, the Japanese media regularly portrays Japanese artists as being the next great wave, on the verge of dominating Western music charts. As evidence, they will point to the fact that more and more Japanese “artists” are conducting tours in the United States, and that their concerts regularly sell out. What is not mentioned, however, is that these concerts only take place in big cities which have large Japanese populations, such as New York or Los Angeles, and that more than 90% of the fans attending these concerts are, in fact, Japanese. Highlights of the concerts concentrate solely on the artist on stage, who usually addresses the audience in broken English (which is lauded as perfect by the media), and there are rarely—if ever—shots of those in attendance. To do so would of course reveal that considering the lack of actual Americans present, for all intent and purpose, the artist may as well be singing in Tokyo. Upon the completion of the concert, Japanese reporters will trip over themselves in their attempts to find the few Americans who attended, and ask their impressions. Similar to the example about Japanese restaurants mentioned above, the Americans will diplomatically be complimentary of the artist, leading reporters and the news anchors back home to conclude that Japanese pop music is taking the United States by storm.
All of this can be most frustrating for the foreigner living in Japan, and many will often mistakenly perceive this as arrogance. However, as I have demonstrated, more accurately interpreted, this constant talk about the superiority of Japan is merely a mask, one that hides the true feelings of inferiority all Japanese hold. It is telling that the Japanese consider it one of their greater accomplishments that throughout their history, they were able to avoid being made into a colony by Western powers. That is the standard at which they truly judge themselves against the West, and if they are bragging about this, it is indicative of the awe in which they have for countries such as the United States.
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