Chapter V—
Families View Their Government
The National Identity
The Mamachi resident unquestionably has a positive, though amorphous, attachment to his country. He feels that he shares with other Japanese a race, language, and culture which, as a result of Japan's long isolation from other countries, are distinctive. He does not lack positive sentiment about Japan, but he has difficulty finding parts of his national tradition which he can be proud of. Unlike the old middle class who have more commonly responded to Western contact by chauvinistic nationalism and a revival of tradition, most salary men are convinced that Japan must adapt its traditions to the modern age. But the problem of national identity is the problem of finding in their tradition something that is both unique and worthy of the modern age.
Some Japanese have attempted to solve this problem by arguing that Japan's superior spirituality should be combined with the West's superior material development. But for Mamachi residents, who consider much of Japanese tradition as unsophisticated, superstitious, irrational, and feudalistic, this formula is clearly inadequate. The popular mythology of Japan which was officially propagated as literal truth[1] before the war is clearly unacceptable to the scientifically trained salary man. The image of Japan expressed in the fervent nationalist indoctrination in the 1930's was probably never completely internalized by most salary men, and it is certainly incongruous with their image of present-day Japan. Today, they laugh among themselves about having memorized the names of all 124
[1] For an account of many Japanese myths, see Mock Joya, Things Japanese , Tokyo: Tokyo News Service, 1958. The stories connected with the founding of the country and the succession of divine emperors were accepted as official.
emperors when they were school children. Even the story of the founding of the country, a crucial symbol for national unity in all countries, was originally promulgated as literal truth, but has now been reduced to the status of a Shinto myth.[2]
The problem for the salary man is that since he accepts the superiority of modern science and many Western values, he has difficulty taking pride in his heritage—he is not even sure what is unique to his heritage. Unlike citizens of other countries where the definition of a nation's uniqueness has undergone continual modification through close contact with other countries, the Mamachi citizen has not had an accurate definition of what is distinctly Japanese, and he has, therefore, been less prepared for the sudden massive assault of Western culture.[3]
The Mamachi salary man is in the anomalous position of loving his country but of depreciating it on the basis of Western standards, which he increasingly accepts as his own. Just as Mamachi residents are sensitive to each other's personal evaluations, so are they sensitive to a Westerner's view of Japan. Not having firm convictions of their own about which Japanese characteristics are valuable or desirable, they are seeking the evaluations of foreigners and doing everything possible to gain their respect. In 1959–1960, during our field work, Mamachi residents were already talking about things they could do in improving Japan so it will make a good impression on foreigners when the next Olympics are held in Tokyo in 1964.
Their defeat at the end of World War II came as a crushing blow to their pride and left them without a sense of national purpose. As much as Mamachi residents resented the military rule during wartime and realize in retrospect how mistaken Japan was to embark on such an ambitious program of territorial expansion, they admit that they had shared the dreams of glory about Japan's becoming a leader of Asia and a great world power. Now, like citizens of European countries which recently have divested themselves of empire, Mamachi residents must adjust themselves to seeing their
[2] According to this myth, the grandchild of the Sun Goddess descended into Kyushu with the three sacred treasures with a heavenly blessing that Japan should prosper and endure forever.
[3] See Masao Maruyama's essays for an analysis of the problem of opening the country and other problems of the Japanese political order. (English translation published by Oxford University Press, 1963.)
nation as weaker in relative power and feeling helpless in doing much about it. The Mamachi resident is left with little sense of a national goal except to be relatively more modern or rational, and this goal seems unexciting by contrast with the dreams of glory and the superpatriotism before and during the war.
Unlike totalitarian countries, Japan is not undertaking an official rewriting of history. But an analogous process is going on in Mamachi. People have discarded much of the history as taught until the end of World War II, and are emphasizing some aspects of their history and neglecting others. They de-emphasize the entire military period of the 1930's and World War II and talk more about the great cultural accomplishments of the Nara and Heian periods, about the courage of liberal leaders in the 1920's and 1930's who fought for a modern pluralistic society; and some are beginning to see the work of Emperor Meiji more for its contribution to modernization than for its contribution to absolutism, which set an example for the militarists in the late 1930's.
As with history, so with other symbols of national pride. Although they still enjoy the tea ceremony, flower arrangement, ancient temples, and traditional art, these are now less a source of national pride than Tokyo Tower, the modern Ginza area of Tokyo, the rate of economic growth, and Japan's standing in international sports contests.
New bases of national pride are beginning to emerge, not in what is unique to the Japanese tradition but in what is the most desirable combination of East and West. Unlike citizens of Western countries who enjoy only Western culture, Mamachi residents feel they can share the benefits of Western and Japanese culture. They can, for example, have Western electrical equipment along with Japanese gardens and tatami mats, Western and Japanese-style food, Western and Japanese-style clothing, Western and Japanese music, Western and Japanese-style painting. Although there are difficulties in reconciling specific traditional practices with modern ones, the over-all goal of building a superior culture by combining the best of the East and West does give a general perspective for the solution of these difficulties.
The Imperial family remains the most important single focus for patriotic sentiments. Unlike the politicians, the Emperor was not
considered responsible for the war, and because he is no longer so aloof, many people have come to have even more affection for him since the war.[4] Mamachi residents recall that before the war the Emperor rarely appeared in public and that if he did, people bowed so low they did not have a chance even to look at his face. During the war, when the streetcar conductor announced the approach to the Imperial Palace, everyone bowed to the floor of the car. Since the war, however, the Emperor personally greets the crowds at the palace on the first two days of the New Year and on his birthday. Everyone can see his pictures on TV and read stories about the Imperial family in the newspapers and magazines. Although some of the most progressive youths of Mamachi raise questions about the value of the Imperial system, the overwhelming majority of these families feel devotion, affection, and enthusiasm for the Imperial family.
For popular and spontaneous excitement no event during our period of research could be compared to the wedding of the Crown Prince and the new Princess. Everyone devoured the newspapers and magazines before, during, and after the wedding, and decorations were everywhere. The only time that a request was made to interrupt an interview during our entire research period was when a family wanted to watch televised films of the Crown Prince and Princess on their honeymoon trip to the national shrine of Ise. The little girls of Mamachi idolized Princess Michiko and copied her hair styles and clothing. Though few people in Mamachi took up tennis because the Prince and Princess met on the tennis courts, many were well aware that tennis became more popular because of this fortuitous event. They were pleased and proud that the Princess was a commoner, and they avidly followed the activities of the Princess's household. The birth of a child to Princess Michiko was followed in minute detail and was a favorite topic of conversation for Mamachi residents. Similarly, although to a lesser extent, they followed the marriage of the Emperor's daughter Princess Suga, reading the newspaper and magazine stories about the house furnishings and family plans. They were delighted when one of the princesses agreed to have her own radio program, and their respon-
[4] Cf. Takeshi Ishida, "Popular Attitudes toward the Japanese Emperor," Asian Survey , 1962, 2:29–39.
siveness helps explain why requests for public appearances of members of the Imperial family have been far greater than can possibly be met.
Before and during World War II, because the Emperor and the government officials were linked together as representatives of the national interest, it was difficult for Mamachi residents to have a legitimate basis for criticizing government officials. Although politicians never had wide popular support, the officials who acted in the name of the Emperor were ordinarily immune from public criticism.[5] As far as political attitudes of Mamachi residents are concerned, the important change in the Emperor's status after the war was not his official renunciation of his divinity. Many Mamachi residents had not believed in his divinity before the war, and they remained devoted to him after the renunciation. The important change was the separation of the Imperial institution from governmental power. No longer can the Emperor be used to cloak and legitimize the actions of governmental leaders.
As a result, national officials have been deprived of their most important source of popular support, and political leaders who were never even cloaked by the Emperor still have no legitimate basis for winning the people's respect.[6] Although elections provide a basis for legitimizing them, even if elected they do not enjoy the high status accorded to government bureaucrats, and even government bureaucrats no longer enjoy the immunity of servants of the Emperor. From the point of view of the Mamachi resident, in order to be respected, a person should be committed to his group and should
[5] Cf. Robert A. Scalapino, Democracy and the Party Movement in Prewar Japan , Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1953.
[6] For example, in a 1956 Mainichi poll, in answer to the question, "Do you think the House of Councilors has accomplished its appointed talks?" 78 percent of salary men said no, compared to 64 percent of merchants and industrialists, 68 percent laborers, and 60 percent of farmers and fishermen. Cited in Allan B. Cole, Japanese Opinion Polls with Socio-political Significance , 1947–1957. Medford, Mass.: Tufts University, 1958, p. 370.
In a 1957 Asahi poll, in answer to the question, "Do you think government is trying to eliminate the three evils of corruption, violence, and poverty?" 46 percent of the salary men said no, compared to 41 percent merchants and industrialists, 43 percent industrial laborers, and 25 percent farmers and fishermen. Ibid. , p. 372.
In a 1954 Yomiuri poll in Tokyo, Osaka, and Yokohama, in answer to the question of "Do you have confidence in your present congressmen?" on the average 68 percent said no, but among salary men, 77 percent replied no, 9 percent replied yes, and 21 percent said they did not know. Ibid. , p. 409.
not be pursuing his own self-interests. But political leaders continually are expressing individual interests or, at best, the interests of a small clique without respecting the rights of others. There is no underlying consensus whereby the supporters of the losing candidate support the person elected simply because he is elected. The loser does not form a "loyal opposition"; he expects, in return, that his wishes will not be respected by the majority. Even those who vote for the winning candidate, however, usually do not feel their candidate is looking out for their interests but for the interest of a small clique. From the view of the Mamachi resident, there is a big difference between, for example, the Meiji leaders who were devoted to their country and the opportunistic politicians who now hold office. Their vague affection toward things Japanese may be expressed through occasions like the wedding of the Crown Prince but it is not expressed by the acts of their political leaders.
In part, the problem of legitimizing political leaders stems from disagreement over the value of various aspects of the national heritage. It is difficult for a politician to find any broad basis of consensus by which he could obtain a large following, even among Mamachi residents alone.
The problem of legitimation of political leaders has been compounded by the onus laid on many groups and individuals associated with the military effort in wartime. Even the residents of Mamachi who were themselves soldiers feel a repulsion toward the military leaders. Before and during World War II, the military was extremely contemptuous of the civilian population. The residents of Mamachi still recall the fear they had of their own military and the danger of trying to oppose any of their wishes. They feel that they endured many years of suffering in vain for a military which led them to a national debacle. Many of their friends and relatives died during the war because of the military's mistaken judgment. The repulsion to the military could hardly be more extreme and more complete.[7]
[7] Mary Ellen Goodman, an American anthropologist, analyzed compositions of 1250 Japanese and 3750 American children in grades one to eight on "What I want to be when I grow up and why." She reports as follows: "Most striking of all Japanese/American contrasts are those having to do with the military and religious roles. . . . The Japanese child . . . totally ignores all roles related to the military or to the national defense, and discusses national welfare solely in terms of health, peace,and prosperity. This is distinctly not true of the American children" (p. 996). She further reports, "Americans express much patriotic sentiment and much concern for the national safety; in fact, they do a great deal of verbal flag-waving. We get absolutely nothing of the sort from the Japanese boys" (p. 983). Mary Ellen Goodman, "Values, Attitudes, and Social Concepts of Japanese and American Children," American Anthropologist , 1957, 59:979–999.
Military forces have been declared illegal under the new constitution, but most Mamachi residents see little distinction between the military and the new "Self-Defense Forces." Even the police are regarded with much the same fear and caution as the prewar military, and to some extent the attitudes toward the discredited military are transferred to the police. During the period of research, when the Diet debated the strengthening of the police force, many Mamachi residents agreed heartily with vigorous press warnings about the dangers of such a measure.
The same opprobrium extends to civilian leaders connected with the wartime government, thus including many of Japan's ablest political leaders and bureaucrats. Kishi, the prime minister at the time of the interviews, is one example. The residents of Mamachi felt that it was difficult to place full confidence in such a man who turned so easily from participating in a militarist campaign to representing Japan in the era of peace. Indeed many Mamachi residents could not understand why the United States would allow Eisenhower, a former World War II general, to become president in peacetime. They asked whether America's victory led America to respect the military so much. Even the Japanese flag and the national anthem were so closely associated with the discredited war effort that they have been slow to revive as national symbols. For many years after the war most residents did not use the flag, and only few are beginning to fly it again.
The wholehearted rejection of militarism by most Japanese is not sufficient to give Mamachi residents confidence that there is no danger of a return to prewar authoritarianism. Many are genuinely afraid that in time of some domestic economic or political crisis an unselfish national leader might arise with sufficient appeal as an unselfish patriot as to win the necessary following from the more selfish politicians and lead the country back to totalitarianism, and that they would be powerless to stop such a trend. It is partly this fear that makes them so adamant in their objections to the strengthening
of the police and other measures which might provide the foundation for the return of a totalitarian regime.
The average person in Mamachi does not feel a part of the collective guilt for starting the war in the same way many Americans feel guilty for the dropping of the atomic bombs. On the one hand, Mamachi residents feel that Japan was forced to go to war, and on the other, that it was the decision of the militarists, not their own decision. They do feel, however, that Japan made an enormous mistake to launch a war she could not win, and their feelings about Hiroshima are more resentment at the devastation than moral criticism of the United States for using the atomic bombs.
In thinking about foreign affairs, Mamachi residents seem to feel strongly on three points. Firstly, they want international alignments that will be of benefit to Japan. They feel they have more to gain from close relationships with the West than with China or Russia. They are grateful for the economic help and technical advice they received during the occupation, which, they think, they would not have received had they been occupied, for example, by Russia or China. They consider the United States to be very wealthy and Americans more humanitarian than the Russians. But they also think it in their interest to have some trade and cultural relations with China and Russia within the context of keeping their strongest ties to the West.
At the same time, however, another strong consideration is their sensitivity to any situation in which Japan is placed in an inferior position. They wish Japan to be treated with respect. They resent it when the United States considers the opinion of European allies, without giving equal weight to Japanese opinion. To be in a position of economic and political dependence on the United States in which Americans can dictate the terms of economic and political arrangements reminds them of the bitter days when the United States imposed unequal treaties, excluded Orientals from migrating to the United States, and sent her troops to occupy their country. As one Mamachi man put it, "Because of Japan's mistake in starting and losing the war, we are forced to be America's samurai." In their personal relations, most salary men are happy they have been largely emancipated from "feudalistic" relationships where they, as inferiors, had their personal lives controlled by paternalistic su-
periors. In their identification with the nation as well, they are anxious for Japan to be freed of pressures restricting their independent action. This feeling seems to underlie the unpopularity of the Security Pact which was signed during the period of our field work.[8] The widespread objections to the Security Pact in no way affected their personal relationship to Americans, nor did it seriously damage their friendly feelings to the United States as a whole. In their view, Kishi railroaded the Security Pact through the Diet to please the United States. Eisenhower's desire to come to Japan so soon afterward was taken as evidence that the American government supported Kishi's tactics, and that Kishi had been responding to American pressure to enact a measure that was not in the best interests of Japan. Many residents of Mamachi did feel that it was necessary and even wise for Japan to accept the Security Pact in one form or another, but all were bitter about Kishi's tactics and American pressure. They do not criticize the United States for legitimately pursuing her own interests, but resent that Japan must still play the subordinate role. It is a wound to their national pride rather than a criticism of American policy as such.
Despite their feelings about the Security Pact they are inclined, on the basis of stories about American soldiers in Japan, American movies they have seen, and second-hand reports, to regard Americans as basically generous and human, albeit a bit overbearing. Most have much less knowledge about Russia, and the few stories from people repatriated by Russia or about the problems of Russian restriction on Japanese fishing have given Russians a somewhat more frightening and less humane image. Many people were in China during the period of Japanese expansion, and this tends to give them a healthy respect for and a feeling of guilt toward the Chinese peasant, which is coupled with a historic tradition of close relations in language, religion, and a wide range of customs. Although many are sympathetic with the efforts of the Chinese Communist government to improve the lot of the common man, they are happy that
[8] The original Security Treaty between United States and Japan was signed September 9, 1951. During our period of research in Mamachi, the Kishi government was debating the renewal of this treaty. At one point in the debate on whether the Diet term should be extended, Socialist members were carrying on a demonstration in the corridors of the Diet. The government had police remove the demonstrators and during their absence passed the renewal of the revised Security Treaty in 1960.
they do not have to live under such tight governmental regimentation. But they consider China much less frightening and dangerous than Americans do, and they would like to have somewhat closer economic and cultural relations with China than they now have.
The third consideration that dominates their thinking about foreign affairs is an intense hatred and fear of war. Having been devastated in World War II and having had two cities of their country destroyed by atomic bombs, Mamachi residents not only despise their own country's military but all countries' military. To have American soldiers on their territory seems terrible to them because it means subordination of Japan's wishes to the wishes of Americans and greater likelihood of becoming involved in war. They are annoyed at the United States for having forced them to build up their "self-defense" forces after having previously urged on Japan a constitution renouncing all military forces.[9]
Most Mamachi residents would prefer to have closer relations with the West than with the East because they think their best interests are served in this direction. But neutralism,[10] within the context of stronger ties to the West, has a great appeal both because Japan might escape the position of servitude in its alliance with the West and because they think Japan would be less likely to become involved even if war should break out between East and West.
The Role of the Citizen
The ability of present-day residents of Mamachi to laugh at their fear of officialdom before 1945 indicates that they now feel greater freedom and confidence in facing government officials. Yet, in comparison with American standards, they still are very humble before officials and still regard encounters with them as trying experiences. From their view, the manner in which government bureaus operate depends in part on the whim and disposition of the officials. The applicant's strategy is to get on the official's good side and win
[9] Cf. the symposium, "Japan Since Recovery of Independence," The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science , November 1956, No. 308.
[10] In answer to the question of whether they prefer a pro-American, pro-Soviet, or neutralist policy, salary men are slightly stronger in their preference for neutralism than most Japanese. In a Shimbun Yoron Choosa Renmei poll in 1953, 42 percent of salary men favored pro-America, 2 percent pro-Soviet, 46 percent neutralism, and the rest gave no opinion. Cited in Cole, op. cit. , p. 694.
his favor. The applicant will smile when angry and reply pleasantly to brusk remarks. Unless they have introductions, Mamachi people seem to feel it necessary to plead in order to get an official to respond in the desired manner. They know about the bureaucratic techniques of systematic postponement, indefinite answers, and "passing the buck," and they expect that the least sign of annoyance will mean a longer wait and poorer service. Most Mamachi residents are uncertain about the rights of a citizen vis-à-vis the government and think that it is rude or senseless to try to oppose an official on the basis of regulations. They believe that it is not might or law that makes right, but position. A person in a position of authority is always right and can ensure that his wishes are carried out. Despite attempts to define the situation differently, even government welfare assistance is viewed not as a right but as a privilege granted at the pleasure of an official.
Because Mamachi residents, and especially women, feel helpless before the government, they try to avoid contact with government officials whenever possible. If a meeting cannot be avoided, they will try to obtain a personal introduction to an official. A man who brings letters of introduction or establishes mutual contacts can hope for better treatment than would be accorded a stranger. With good introductions, he is likely to be received in grand style, be treated with efficiency, and be made to feel important. Although the average salary man does not necessarily look up to a bureaucrat as a person, even if he himself works in a government office he is hesitant in applying to another government bureau without the introduction of friends or colleagues.
The Japanese are generally law-abiding but they do not equate rules with morality. They have seen law changed drastically with shifts in power—some laws rigidly enforced by their own military, other laws laid down by their conquerors. Obedience to laws then, seems to reflect prudence rather than morality.
In certain cases, cheating or deceiving the government, particularly about taxes, is not considered reprehensible. It is difficult for a salaried employee to hide the amount he is paid, because it is known at the company. But the independent businessman, the small shopkeeper, or the independent professional often systematically
understates his income. Large businessmen, by their contacts and consultants, frequently can arrange their accounts so that they do not have to fear punishment by the government. But small businessmen almost inevitably worry that the tax officer will require them to pay more money and in a way lacking in grace and dignity.
Although an individual person almost never objects directly to the government about the way he is treated in a government office, groups of citizens occasionally present complaints collectively. For example, some Mamachi residents went in large numbers to complain about the sewer system in their area. Other groups protest plans for roads, noise from factories, or heavy traffic. But even large delegations do not expect to receive much consideration unless they are introduced by a person of power or position in that bureau.
As yet there are few groups devoted to securing or preserving the rights of citizens. Generally, it is felt that these functions will be served by the people in power, or by the more powerful citizens of the community, and if these functions are not served residents feel that all they can do about it is protest loudly. It is difficult to imagine organizations with a wide membership base such as the Civil Liberties Union, and since women are so removed from politics it is even more difficult to imagine an effective Japanese League of Women Voters. Despite the growing interest in public opinion, most residents of Mamachi do not expect that under ordinary circumstances public opinion and the activities of the citizenry will have a serious impact on their government's decisions.
The experience of Mamachi men as salaried employees in large organizations has served to lend support to the prevailing view of the powerlessness of the citizenry. They have found that the way to be most effective in their organizations is to work through people with whom they have a special relationship. If they have a connection with people in power, then usually it is possible for them to express their opinions, and the people in power will tend to assist them in getting what they wish. However, if they do not have such contacts, it is hopeless for them to try to affect company policy. Thus in business as in politics, a man's influence on decisions depends in large part on his position within the organization and upon his relationship with the people at the top. By their contacts
and power, influential high-status salary men are more conservative politically[11] and expect to play a role in governmental processes, but ordinary salary men do not.
Even in the local community salary men take little part in political activities. Because their center of activity is in the firm or bureau which has no ties to the local community, they have much less interest in suburban politics than the old middle class of small business owners and independent professionals who control the reins of local power. Furthermore, the salary man and his family are generally among the newcomers to Mamachi and would have difficulty breaking into local politics even if they were interested, expecially since most important issues like budgets for schools and road and sewage construction are decided by the local bureaucracies rather than by local elections in which all can participate. Even participation often means only petitioning the local government.
The feeling of powerlessness of the citizen in relation to the government is unmitigated by confidence in the democratic processes. Residents value the right to vote and have a vague hope that their combined votes may have some influence, but they do not feel that voting, in fact, has much effect on government decisions. From their point of view, government decisions are made by the higher-ups in private meetings, often at geisha houses, and are completely beyond the control of the average citizen. They are not happy with the situation but they feel powerless to change it.[12] Although the average American citizen may have little more influence in governmental decisions than his Japanese counterpart, the American is taught to feel that his vote and opinions do count and that he has effective avenues for redress of grievances. The Mamachi resident,
[11] In a Tokyo survey in 1962, it was found that 39 percent of one group of office workers in large enterprises and 51 percent of another group supported Socialists. However, only 14 percent of the officers in these enterprises supported the Socialists. Nihon Shakai Koozoo Choosakkai, Howaito Karaa no Ishiki Koozoo (The Structure of White Collar Ideology), Tokyo, March, 1962, p. 265. The evidence from this and other voting studies shows that ordinary salary men are more likely to vote Socialist than are laborers.
[12] Indeed, books like the Japanese translation of C. Wright Mills, Power Elite, which argue that elitist cliques exist, are extremely popular among salary men, especially those who are recent graduates of universities. In Japan, the government bureaucracy has more power and political functions vis-à-vis the political parties than in America and many Western countries. Therefore, the feeling of being excluded is likely to be greater than when officials are more subject to the will of the people.
being more cynical of the government's tendency to look out for its own interests and ignore the interests of outsiders, has no such basis of optimism.[13]
Salary and the Moderation of Alienation
Part of the alienation toward the government in power rests on this feeling of being looked down upon by governmental leaders. The salary man, like other Japanese, feels intense loyalty to his own groups and intense hostility to groups from which he is excluded. Because government leaders, and particularly government bureaucrats, tend to have close-knit elitist groups unresponsive to the wishes of the average person, it is difficult for the salary man to identify with governmental leaders. One of the strongest complaints against the government, that it is a "tyranny of the majority," clearly reflects the concern about exclusive government groups imposing their will without giving sufficient consideration to others. The salary man does not feel that the government leaders are "of the people," but of a series of in-groups to which he does not belong.
In part, the alienation to the government in power seems to rest on the desire to modernize government institutions. Since the government has more than its share of leaders representing rural and special-interest conservative groups, it seems far more traditional than salary men wish it to be. Many salary men connect their feeling of disillusionment with the government to what they had learned in their university days. In contrast to many of the older middle class who support conservatives and even the radical right, salary men are in favor of developing a rational approach to government just as they wish to develop rational procedures in their own firm. But even if they could respect the methods of operation of government departments, salary men cannot identify with what they see as the primary purpose of any government bureau, the perpetuation and strengthening of its own power.
For many Mamachi residents, criticism of the government gives them a feeling of remaining true to their feelings of protest and the
[13] Many Westerners had hoped that with the rise of the middle class, the democratic processes would be strengthened. Although the participation of the middle class in voting and in free speech and criticism undoubtedly poses certain restraints on authoritarian rule, the relatively closed nature of groups still poses formidable obstacles to the broad expansion of political participation and influence.
ideals of democracy which they had espoused so vocally during their college days. They are convinced that the militarists came to power in Japan because people did not stand up for more democratic practices. In general, as salary men grow older and rise higher in their firms, they become more conservative. Some salary men seem to feel slightly ashamed of having adjusted so well to the firm, to have lost the feeling of protest, and of doing so little to help the cause of democracy and the nation's welfare. However, many who in their own behavior have become more conservative retain much of their strong ideological opposition to the government.
Although feeling excluded from governmental processes, the salary man maintains an active interest in political affairs and keeps himself well abreast of the news, especially in national affairs.[14] Japanese are avid readers, but the salary man, being better educated than the average, is particularly well read on broader issues affecting his country. The Mamachi man commonly reads both the morning and evening editions of one of the three large dailies, as well as weekly and monthly magazines, and he often discusses politics with friends at work. Although wives are generally much less informed about national political activities than their husbands, they, too, follow at least the main trend of important political events.
Most salary men are moderate in the manner in which they express opposition to the government. They enjoy many of the virulent criticisms of the government in the newspapers and pass on their bitter criticism in conversation with friends, but they are not likely to participate in riots and demonstrations. Even if they vote for the Socialists, as many salary men do, they explain that they do not really respect the Socialists, who seem to them irresponsible in their behavior. They are not as much for the Socialists, as they are against the government; they doubt that the Socialists would be freer of corruption and mismanagement.
The moderate way in which salary men express opposition is not simply a result of the fact that companies prefer to hire college students with moderate political views—many a salary man admits
[14] In an Asahi poll in 1952, 87 percent of salary men questioned knew the Diet was in session compared to 70 percent of merchants and industrialists, 65 percent industrial laborers, and 57 percent of farmers and fishermen. Cited in Allan B. Cole, op. cit., p. 392.
having been more leftist in his youth. Rather, his moderation seems to be a result of the fact that he seems sufficiently comfortable with his present position and sufficiently pessimistic as to what would be accomplished by more active political participation; thus he is reluctant to place his position in jeopardy. Mamachi men know that although firms are ordinarily loyal to their members they have been known to sacrifice a member should he become too embarrassing; and that short of dismissing an employee, the firm can exert powerful informal pressure on the deviant.