13 Meet the Press: The Danger and the Whitewash
Nobody trusted the government very much in 2011; that is a fact (by now – totally forgotten). TEPCO was trusted even less (that too, is forgotten). Radiation measurements were undertaken by several amateur groups, often with the help of professionals. Greenpeace and other international organizations were active. Arnold Gundersen of Fairewinds, an anti-nuclear veteran, and many others came to try and expose TEPCO’s lies.
TEPCO didn’t even admit to the meltdowns until summer, for example. They knew exactly what had happened (of course) but kept us in the dark. This, and other important information (three meltdowns are nothing to be glossed over, one should think) was withheld by TEPCO. It was made possible by the government’s policies and the media’ s acquiescence only.
The media! Journalists (trained by the three wise monkeys of the Toshogu Shrine in Nikko: see no evil, hear no evil, say no evil) are not really fit to report well, as far as I can see. How else do you explain the fact they ignored things like the mysterious “Black Stuff” so persistently? Like it was stories about apple pie from outer space? This stuff exists, unfortunately. The mysterious “Black Stuff,” tiny specks (size: 10 microns, 0.01 mm, fortunately too large to inhale accidentally) of highly radioactive matter found as far away as Tokyo, and even Nagoya has never been explained by TEPCO. What is it?
It was a collaborator of Gundersen’s, Marco Kaltofen, who first discovered and analyzed this “roadside dust” in Namie, close to Dai-ichi. Kaltofen’s findings and analyses are briefly reported. The team of Simply Info has been doing an incredible job over the years. A shining example of providing thoroughly informed explanations of extremely complicated matters to the layman. Kaltofen’s findings were taken up and consolidated by Japanese scientists. Sakaguchi et al. agree (as I understand their abstract notion) that the isotopes found by Kaltofen (“light radioactive isotopes of the elements yttrium and silver, plus the heavier isotopes tin, antimony, cesium, cerium, neodymium, and lanthanum,” he is quoted) point to material produced in reactor cores. Reactor cores! These hot particles are potentially dangerous for many, many years.
Mainstream media ignore unpleasant facts with incomparable impertinence. How else do you explain the fact that four highly radioactive pieces of polyethylene and wood, found by TEPCO and featured in detail on their own website, got practically no attention in the press at all? For crying out loud – this is important. There is a TEPCO documentation, plus an analysis of radioactive contents. It is in Japanese only, unfortunately, but has international references such as Pu-239. That’s right: “contains traces of plutonium-239” as well as numerous other delicacies. What a story. In short: on July 23, 2013, workers found these four scraps of whatever, origin unclear, 15 km (around 9 miles) from Dai-ichi. They weigh between 0.3 and 6.9 grams and contain 17 highly radioactive isotopes (from manganese-54 up to curium-244), produced and found inside reactor cores. No, you have not misread: it is really “found inside reactor cores.” Which is a hard nut to crack, given that Dai-ichi didn’t throw its reactor cores up into the sky like Chernobyl reactor No. 4 did.
TEPCO offered no explanation. Arnold Gundersen, however, did. He is an expert on nuclear matters. He was an engineer and a licensed Critical Facility Reactor Operator before he became a whistleblower in 1990. He served as an expert witness on the Three Mile Island investigation. Gundersen investigated Dai-ichi, and he thinks these pieces of matter prove that indeed Dai-ichi reactor No. 3 had an explosion that spewed core material into the air! He bases this crazy sounding assumption on the isotopes found in TEPCO’s analysis. Officially there have never been any explosions but hydrogen ones. So, dear patriotic Japanese journalists, isn’t this a story worth pursuing? If only to prove the snooping Americans wrong? An explosion involving core material obviously is a very different beast from a hydrogen explosion, isn’t it? Will the truth ever come to light? And there is still another question. If these four bits of hot stuff managed to travel 15 km, give or take, where are all the others? It is not really common sense to think only four bits of highly radioactive polyethylene, and wood traveled all by themselves over such a distance to be found close to each other (all four of them, by the banks of lovely Iida River in Naraha. Such tiny chits! Who would notice them at all, I cannot stop asking myself. Only four, now? Really? There must be millions of them, spread all over hill and dale, who could doubt that? The area is heavily forested, but there are rice fields, too. Draw your conclusions. Where is all the rest of these “Flying Burrito Brothers?” “An explosion with nuclear components” is what Gundersen called the explosion in reactor No. 3. When I first read that, I was extremely doubtful. I thought it was crazy, to be precise. Now, I am not so sure anymore. It has often been pointed out that the cloud rising up from the No. 3 building looked different from the white hydrogen cloud emanating from building 1, and indeed, it is striking how different both plumes look.
What really happened is still very unclear, and Japanese media are not helpful in determining causes, timelines, and effects. It should be their task, of course. Don’t they understand they are responsible? “Fukushima” is not like a dirty family secret, after all. It is a matter of great importance to get to the bottom of what happened and why it happened.
The government discourages all such efforts. Prime Minister Abe, oh, how we loved him, declared: “Let me assure you, everything is under control!” when he was in Buenos Aires in 2013 to get Tokyo the 2020 Olympics. Dressed up as Super Mario, if I remember correctly. “Under control”? He tried his very best to control critical reporting, so much is true. It is a matter of concern to the United Nations. Special rapporteur David Kaye expressed deep and genuine concern about the freedom of expression in Japan after his fact-finding mission in 2015.
As bad as the situation is, there are heroes in this field, too. Let me name the Asahi Shimbun, a daily newspaper with a circulation of more than six million copies. Courageous, and in constant trouble. Mr. Abe hated the “Asahi.” How painful to see it humiliated again and again. It was the Asahi that leaked the Yoshida Papers – a document of great importance. “Fukushima” is not a Japanese problem only! Best known for his independent reporting is Takashi Uesugi, a friendly voice that will not be silenced. See him in the Foreign Correspondents’ Club of Japan. It was Uesugi who first reported the meltdowns – denied by TEPCO for two months (and their silence only fully acknowledged as an attempt to cover up what had happened in 2016) – can you believe it?
Another courageous reporter, Shigeaki Koga, lost his job as anchor of a popular evening news program after holding up a handwritten message saying, “I am not Abe.” Then there is the case of Tetsu Kariya. He dared to take up “Fukushima” in his Oishinbo (“Gourmet”) magazine. Oishinbo was (it closed down after Kariya’s venture into the dangerous terrain of radioactive problems related to Dai-ichi) a mainstay of Japanese gourmet culture. It sold 120 million copies since it was first published in 1983! How is that? Then, in 2014, the editor, Shogakukan, decided to suspend its bestselling magazine indefinitely, because of bleeding noses! No, not their own bleeding noses. It was like this: Kariya took up the often heard rumor of nosebleed as a result of living or working near the stricken Dai-ichi power plant, and this caused outrage.
Local governments were in an uproar, and, of course, Mr. Abe, too. “Fukushima” is safe, and there is nothing to worry about! Fake news! The Huffington Post covered this affair.
One man who needs mentioning before all others is a great favorite of Mariko’s, who met her hero in the biggest protest demonstration Tokyo had seen since 1960 when the Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security Between the United States and America was fought by many. At that time, Mr. Abe’s grandfather, wily and extremely corrupt Nobusuke Kishi, was Prime Minister. We’ll meet him in a moment. Mariko’s favorite, though, is of quite a different character. Taro Yamamoto (who was an actor and a fearless activist before he turned politician) is a man of the people, and for the people, who frequently appears in public (something no other politician will do except for campaigning). He gives speeches – provoking and inviting debate. Yamamoto is much loved, and of course, bitterly opposed. He was a member of the Upper House before he lost his seat – but still led his party (the newly established Reiwa Shinsengumi) to win two seats in parliament. Being a staunch defender of liberty and civil rights, Yamamoto opposes nuclear power. He still maintains some of his fire and pulls off quite unexpected stunts from time to time. One of these was to hand a letter on “Fukushima” to Emperor Akihito – an absolute taboo in Japan. It caused an uproar across the political spectrum, as the Emperor is not to be involved in politics. I think it was worth trying to get some support for this good cause. I wonder if the Emperor (living in his gilded cage) ever got to see the letter? He is a very respectable man, by the way, who cares deeply about his 123 million children.
Now, for Mr. Abe. I have seen the great man from up close. He visited Yotsukura in the summer of 2013. Abe came to express his support for Fukushima’s agriculture, was greeted obsequiously by the mayor of Iwaki, bit into a locally grown tomato, and was duly interviewed as he stepped back from the window. Some minutes later, his security detail arranged for his local admirers to stand in line outside the “Michinoeki” building right next to the ruined fishing port. Mariko and I, for lack of a better place, stood on a bench in the second row, but high above the crowd (well, 50 cm, high enough to look down on our dear leader). It was the summer of 2013. Mariko and I had been on our way to the beach to catch some fresh air when we felt something strange was going on in Yotsukura: a helicopter circling, TV crews to be seen, and then – “right, let’s have a look!” we found out about the visitor.
We were in our beach clothes; we definitely represented “the people of Fukushima” better than the ladies who cheered on him, the great man. We did not cheer. On the contrary, we stood there trembling with rage, glaring down at him like two gargoyles. It was nothing but fear for our safety, if not physical safety, then for our jobs and social standing, that held us back. That very morning we had talked about Edward Snowden, who had made headlines just a few weeks earlier. Both of us were sure the Japanese police were targeting and blacklisting protesters against Abe’s policies. There had been enough incidents to prove this. Mr. Abe Shinzo, his first name, does not like resistance. If only the great man had looked up to us two, glowering down at him! But, of course, he didn’t.
When Abe was elected in December 2012, I had no idea who he was. He had been Prime Minister before and thrown in the towel because of some irrelevant illness then. Japanese Prime Ministers don’t last long; their average tenure less than two years. Many didn’t even last that long. I expected nothing of the fight, and furor Abe displayed right from day 1. He had been elected with an overwhelming majority (setting off his election campaign in Iwaki, adding insult to injury) and plowed ahead with his nationalist agenda (without ever looking back). Abe intended to “make Japan great again.” The regrettable interlude of Naoto Kan (the LDP’s temporary loss of power) was to be erased as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Abe unleashed a storm on us – calling us “Abenomics.” In case this rings a bell – yes, just like the “Reaganomics” (of ill repute) – the Abenomics were very successful in making the rich even more so. For the paltry rest of us, the 99%, it was amazing to see the Bank of Japan buy into this scheme, supporting it with enormous amounts of money, ratcheting the national debt up to 240% of GDP.
Abe militarized the country – antagonizing Japan’s neighbors (China, and especially Korea) – by surrounding himself with the most unsavory right-wingers. There were scandals from the beginning, but Mr. Abe really seems to be a cat of nine lives. Japan enjoyed worldwide sympathy and commiseration after 2011. It is gone. Abe and his government had only one big, fat agenda: to redefine the past.
I don’t want to go too deeply into this, as we are still trying to account for the years 2011 and 2012; Mariko and I just back from a long holiday: one we had never meant to take. Trying to get our feet back onto the ground, trying to reclaim our lives. It has to be said in this context, though, that all Mr. Abe and his friends ever did and refrained from doing is deplorable to many of us, “us” representing the best of Japan.
Japanese history cannot be understood, though, without realizing how close the country came to being colonized in the Age of Imperialism and how strong and successful its resistance was. Japan modernized and grew – possibly too fast. It fought and won modern wars (against China and Russia) and became a colonizing power itself (Taiwan, Korea) before it was stopped dead in 1945.
After World War II, it rose from the ashes, a true phoenix, and how we had hoped it would rise from “Fukushima” once more. Abe didn’t let it happen. His party (the LDP) had other plans. Which plan? “Continue to do what worked so well.” What worked so well, now? Japan’s history after 1945 seems a miracle to the casual observer. How could this resource-poor nation, devastated in a catastrophic war, grow to be second to none within the space of 40 years? In the 1980s, Japan was about to take over world leadership from the USA, or so it seemed for a short moment.
It was the LDP that was elected into power again and again during all these years: and the LDP delivered. “Japan as Number One” became a nightmare to American power, just as China is gearing up to become its next. Japan grew by hard work, as everybody knows. There was also a little bit of luck, though … Japan was needed as a base against communism and profited from it. Okinawa suffered while Tokyo enjoyed the benefits.
Which brings us back to Mr. Abe – and his family history. The man who got the LDP started in 1955 – building on some foundations laid earlier and kept it going and going – was a man called Nobusuke Kishi (nicknamed the “Showa Monster.”) He was Abe’s beloved grandfather. Young Shinzo Abe doted on the man, and he is trying to do right by his so deeply venerated grandfather now. This, in a nutshell, was Mr. Abe’s psychological background and all you need to understand his policies. “Make Japan Great Again” is a work in progress – and, unfortunately, for “progress,” read “REGRESS.” To Mr. Abe, there is nothing as good as the past.
Grandpa Kishi and modern Japan, Grandpa Kishi and money. Black money, ahhh …. Grandpa Kishi and corruption! Modern Japan is a country erected on cash. Cash in suitcases, cash considerately given and duly received. Money to cement structures so carefully crafted. Structures that easily withstood a magnitude M 9.0 earthquake with the ensuing tsunami. Structures that were shaken but not shattered by some explosions in its aftermath. Quite to the contrary: these structures proved resilient beyond expectation. Money was printed in piles that would reach up to the moon! (Am I wrong here? A hundred 10,000 yen-notes neatly stacked will give you a centimeter of height. That’s a million yen. A hundred million yen, roughly equal to a million dollars, will give you a meter. A billion dollars will give you a kilometer. A trillion dollars, which is about the amount injected after 2011, will take us up to a thousand kilometers! Whoa!) Now, the Japanese national debt was calculated to be 11.06 trillion U.S. dollars in 2015: let me take you higher, baby … are you dizzy already? We’re in outer space; we’re floating at 10,000 kilometers from planet Earth! Sorry – still far from the moon. Well, we’ll get there someday soon, I fear …)
How much of this impressive pile might be “black money” now, you feel inclined to ask? The rate for kickbacks on public work projects used to be 5%, as everyone in Japan knows. Recently it is down to 3%, I was told. Of course, I have no way to ascertain these figures, but then, others have done this for me. Like Koki Ishii (a true patriot) – a member of parliament and Parliamentary Vice-Minister of the Management and Coordination Agency – who paid with his life for trying to bring “systemic corruption” to light. He was assassinated in 2002 under highly suspicious circumstances. His murder was never properly investigated. Japan is not usually seen as a corrupt country, and in most ways, it isn’t. Should you ever be tempted to try and shove a 10,000 yen note into a policeman’s hand: think again. Few people on earth are as “straight” and as honest as the Japanese. Systemic corruption is what we are talking about – an entirely different thing.
It’s what brings us back to the beloved grandfather of Abe. Read what Richard J. Samuels (professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology) – in 2011 decorated with the “Order of the Rising Sun” – wrote about Nobusuke Kishi in his working paper “Kishi and Corruption.” It makes your hair stand on end, doesn’t it? Remember that Kishi is dead in body but very much alive in the spirit.
I still see Mariko and myself standing up on that bench, hands clenched into fists. We didn’t utter a word. I feared for her, trembling with suppressed emotion as she was. She was afraid I might burst open and shout: “Abe – Japan’s disgrace!” We didn’t speak a single word. After it was over, the cavalcade of black cars swooshed by as in a bad dream, one particular bodyguard sticking his fat head out of a rolled-down car window, and was gone. A helicopter hovered overhead for a while, then turned north. Mr. Abe continued his journey into the outskirts of the “zone.” He would be seen on TV later, commending the reconstruction efforts and announcing that tomatoes from Fukushima Prefecture were delicious.
Fukushima agriculture was especially hard hit after 2011, of course. Fukushima was a byword for “poison.” Cars with an “Iwaki” registration had been vandalized in Tokyo. For weeks there had been no delivery services into Iwaki, and nobody in their right minds would think of coming up here. Relatives came to visit, sure, and the highway back to Tokyo was littered with return gifts tossed out of car windows. You couldn’t be too careful with “Fukushima.” The rumors …
Mariko and I got into our run-down car, drove for a couple of minutes, and then stretched out in the hot sand, still speechless. We had met corruption, and it gnawed at us. I threw pebbles at something and missed it continuously. We didn’t enjoy the sunshine at all that day.
The ocean! We love the sea so much, and still, in that first year and the next, and even the one after that, we couldn’t help feeling a certain dread looking at the sea. The ocean that had come ashore to kill and destroy. Where there once had been promise and solace – now there was nothing but menace, provoking a silent disgust. “You betrayed us!” It hurt to look at the wide expense of blue that pretended to be innocent. Well, we knew better. Still, one day in mid-August of 2011, we couldn’t bear the heat any longer. “Let’s go to the beach! If only once.” Mariko and I drove down to Shinmaiko, ten minutes by car, and stopped at the damaged bridge they have there. The road was closed, and suddenly we were far away from everything: far from all the dirt, the mountains of rubbish, the destroyed houses, the overturned cars, the stench.
We felt peace – for the first time since March 11, 2011. Mariko had brought an old umbrella to use as a parasol, and I had a towel. No swimsuits. We hadn’t planned to go swimming – but then I just couldn’t resist. I slipped out of my jeans and found some shallow water. Carefully I slid in, not wanting to wet my face. How ridiculous! Somehow I felt safer without the tainted water in my eyes, my ears, my hair, my mouth. How good it was to float weightless, if only for a few moments! I walked back to Mariko, who frowned at my antics, feeling like Adam, with his Eve in paradise.
Just then, a very low flying helicopter approached, looking for bodies, we thought. She shielded me with her parasol, and a moment later, the engine roar subsided, and all was quiet again. “Wouldn’t it be nice to bring a hammock next time? Look, those trees over there!” It was so good to be away from it all for once. “We could even build a hut out here! There is so much driftwood – wouldn’t that be cool?” “Oh … yes … “
Of course, it never happened. We didn’t even go back with our hammocks. We had had an hour of peace: more than that was not granted to us that first summer. We just could not bring ourselves to trust the gently smiling monster, whose waters were poisonous, adding a dimension of revulsion. Fortunately, that unspoken reproach is gone now. We are back in the water in summer – but, admit it, Giorgio, it’s different. Once trust is lost, it can’t be regained easily, sometimes, not ever. We got old over “Fukushima,” too. A traumatic event – even if you survive it, even if you never were in real danger, even then – will kill you from the inside, slowly.