Meditating Santa during Buy Nothing Day in Kyoto.
Photo by Paul Crouse

uy Nothing Day (November 25, 2006) started over 14 years ago in Vancouver, Canada but like many social memes, the power of its ideas propelled it around the world, where it eventually landed in Japan; most prominently in the form of Gabi Hadl’s Zenta Claus.

In 1999, Hadl was appropriately inspired by Santa suits she found tossed in the garbage in Kyoto.  Following the Japanese tradition of taking a foreign idea and turning it into their own, Hadl and some like-minded supporters put on these suits and sat themselves down in front of a Hankyu department store in a Zen-like posture. 

The meditating Santas easily grabbed the attention of not only the passing Japanese, but also of Adbusters (www.adbusters.org) magazine, which transmitted this image beyond its humble origins to become one of the year’s best culture jams.  The Zenta image has since been used as far afield as Taiwan, the UK and Italy. Hadl has continued to use Zenta to annually spearhead Buy Nothing Day in Japan (www.bndjapan.org) and has managed to develop a network of like-minded campaigners throughout the country.

One question this raises is whether or not such a successful piece of activism could have occurred naturally in Japan without the inspiration and leadership of a foreigner.  Hadl said that certain movements display homegrown momentum, but that addressing the drawbacks of consumerism is not one of them.

“There is a long tradition of very vocal and radical one-issue movements; for example, the phrase ‘human rights’ (jinken) has been practically monopolized by the buraku liberation movement. The anti-nuclear energy movement is on the upswing now- rock stars like Sakamoto Ryuichi take up the cause - and the peace movement is very much part of popular culture,” she said.

“However, the problem is that few people, including those in the movements recognize advertising, the corporate-centered economy, star-centered media and consumer culture as a problem. This is were there's still a lot of work to do, but with peace, social entrepreneurism and slow life becoming part of everyday culture, there's a better base now than there was just 5 years ago.”

Undoubtedly, Japan can lay claim to also being the birthplace of some significant non-governmental organizations in the areas cited by Hadl. The Peace Boat (www.peaceboat.org) is an NGO that was organized by a group of Japanese university students in 1983 to protest the lack of honesty in government-approved history books. It not only organizes human rights and peace-related protests but also offers university courses during its voyages.  The International Movement Against All Forms of Discrimination and Racism (IMADR) (www.imadr.org) was also founded in Japan, in 1988, and is devoted to the elimination of all forms of discrimination, as well as ensuring that the human rights of minority groups are protected.  IMADR has since grown into a global network of activist citizens. 

What is particularly noteworthy about these two organizations however, is that most of their activities (and activism) have taken place overseas, even though they have attempted to bring attention to their causes domestically.  IMADR has promoted the struggle of ethnic minorities in Japan, such as the Ainu and Koreans, in addition to marginalized groups such as the Burakumin but has not had much success changing state policy.  In an interview with Masters student Sara Margaryan, the group’s Under-Secretary-General, Ryo Onoyama, is noted as identifying the influence of the government on NGOs, the apolitical attitude of the populace and limited funding as challenges to effective domestic activism.

“Most of the Japanese NGOs are independent, but they have limited power, and…are still influenced by the government,” Onoyama explained.  “An obstacle to becoming more independent is the lack of energy and time.  It requires changing the Japanese people’s minds, [which is] difficult in politics and international relations.”

While Onoyama undoubtedly has a point, the situation is probably not as gloomy as he might think.  Clearly, activism and NGO participation in Japan is not on par with other developed countries, but Japanese do recognize the contributions these groups make to society.  Mari Maebori, a 20-something administrative assistant in Tokyo is one such person.

“NGOs are organizations that are absolutely necessary; I suppose that is a truth.  They provide key points to discuss politics and they play great roles in international society,” she acknowledged.  But she also indicated that she had never been part of an advocacy campaign, the only person she knows who did was a foreigner and is very skeptical about donating money somewhat affirming Onoyama’s concerns.

Without the financial support of individual Japanese, many NGOs have to rely on the government for funding or otherwise whatever cash flow they can bring in from their own pockets.  The former situation creates new problems, as it tends to curb an NGO’s enthusiasm for criticizing state policy or representatives for fear of losing the funding provided by the government.

Even when Japanese are supportive of friends or family members who engage in activism, it tends to be qualified.  Chiharu Nara is a 19-year-old university student who volunteers for Habitat for Humanity and was shocked to hear that this NGO is actually well known throughout the world.

“In Japan, many people don’t know about Habitat or what it does.  It is difficult to teach people about it, even though my friends and family are interested,” she explained, “My parents are supportive but they don’t agree with me going to a developing country.”

A recurring theme is that there is a general lack of enthusiasm for protest.  Hadl points out that Japanese work long hours, which tire them out, and they’re not used to this sort of creative campaigning because their education system puts a premium on rote learning.  Maiko Fujii, a second-year lawyer in Tokyo, echoed Hadl’s concerns with the latter issue.

“The education system doesn’t offer us much choice or teach us how to critically think about an issue,” Fujii said.  She then added, “Moreover, there is very little academic analysis of the media.  I think there’s no real journalism in Japan.  They just say whatever supports the main idea given to them by the government or business and provide no real criticism.”

Japan faces a chicken-and-egg dilemma when it comes to creating an environment hospitable to a wider variety of activism.  If the media raised a greater awareness of the challenges facing Japanese society, people might be more inclined to participate in or donate to causes that they feel are important.  In addition, people like Nara’s mother might be more inclined to let her daughter work abroad with Habitat if she had heard about the success of Habitat’s worldwide projects.  However, before the media starts critically assessing society, it needs people who can provide insightful analysis, which in turn requires reforming the current education system.  And changing the education system would require a courageous degree of activism that is unlikely to garner much attention from a media culture unfamiliar with critical journalism. 

Perhaps one reason potential activists should remain optimistic is the Japanese penchant for fanatically committing themselves to their jobs, education or outside pursuits.  If an NGO can somehow harness this latent character trait, epitomized by a salaryman’s infamous devotion to his company, it would provide that NGO with a highly motivated campaign crew.  The key is cutting through the apathetic media and getting a message out to the general public that they can identify with.  Maebori provides the last word as someone who was moved by media reports to display her sense of civic duty.

“The media works effectively for cities that are damaged by earthquakes to help their reconstruction.  For example, I donated money to the reconstruction of Kobe and Niigata.  The point is whether I can have sympathy with those people or not,” Maebori affirmed.