To Die in Shina|The Fate of Those Who Entrusted Their Dreams to Communist States|Masayuki Takayama Exposes Shina’s Reflexive Retaliation
Published on July 18, 2019.
This article introduces Masayuki Takayama’s essay from Shukan Shincho and examines the nature of communist states and Shina’s retaliatory instincts through the tragedies of Kim Philby, Okada Yoshiko, and Sugimoto Ryokichi.
It discusses the detention of Canadians after Huawei vice chair Meng Wanzhou’s arrest, the detention of Fujita employees, and Itochu’s investment in CITIC, questioning the danger of Japanese companies and employees that still entrust their dreams to Shina.
July 18, 2019.
When Huawei vice chair Meng Wanzhou was arrested in Canada, Shina immediately arrested thirteen Canadians in Shina.
The following is from Shukan Shincho, released the day before yesterday.
All those who subscribed to and read the following must surely have exclaimed, “Masayuki Takayama is truly extraordinary!” and must also have silently nodded at my assessment that he is the one and only journalist in the postwar world.
To Die in Shina.
Kim Philby, a well-bred young gentleman who went from public school to Cambridge, for reasons unknown, became infatuated with communism and volunteered to become a Soviet spy.
After graduating from university, he plunged into the Spanish Civil War under the title of a Times correspondent and submitted to Moscow a plan to assassinate General Franco.
Although this came to nothing, at that time he murdered a reporter from another company who had seen through him as a spy, making it look as if the man had been caught up in the fighting.
After returning to Britain, he entered the British intelligence service MI6 and, unbelievably, was put in charge of the intelligence network against the Soviet Union.
For the Soviet Union, he was an extraordinarily valuable spy, and through Kim’s reports, both the Polish spy network and the Albanian anti-communist organization could be wiped out.
A Soviet spy sitting in the very heart of the British intelligence agency.
His true colors were finally exposed in 1963, fully thirty years later.
After being interrogated, he defected to the Soviet Union that very night and was given employment by Khrushchev as an adviser to the KGB.
But the Soviet Union that Kim had admired so much was poor and shabby.
At the GUM department store, there was not a single item like those that would have been lined up at Harrods.
For him, raised in the British upper class, this seems to have hit him hard, and his dying words were, “More Worcestershire sauce.”
Around the time he committed his first killing in Spain, the director Sugimoto Ryokichi and the actress Okada Yoshiko, who likewise admired the Soviet Union, crossed the border into northern Sakhalin.
But that was a communist state without even a fragment of common sense.
The two were arrested on suspicion of spying.
Okada was known for her exotic beauty, with one-eighth Dutch blood, but resembling her eccentric socialist father, her character and conduct were also bad.
She hated pain as well, and when tortured, she confessed, “Yes, I am a spy,” and also admitted that her companion Sugimoto was a spy.
She was also made to say that the Russian director Meyerhold, whom she had never even met, was a spy.
Because of her confession, Sugimoto and Meyerhold were shot after being tortured.
She too was sentenced to ten years and was moved around to prisons here and there that were starved of women.
Why had she admired such a country?
She too must have repeated the same question to herself as Kim Philby.
But Kim did not beg his homeland to send him sauce.
Okada also did not ask her homeland to rescue her.
Both quietly felt ashamed of their own lack of judgment.
Okada later returned to Japan, but perhaps thinking she had no qualification to live comfortably here, she went back to the Soviet Union, where she had nothing but hateful memories.
She was潔かった.
The Chinese are cunning.
Mao Zedong lied, saying that the chemical weapons he had left unused had been “abandoned by the Japanese Army,” and made the Japanese government pay one trillion yen in disposal costs.
Even such filthy money was something Fujita eagerly jumped at.
When four employees went to Shina, they were detained on suspicion of spying.
Just before that, near the Senkaku Islands, a Shina fishing boat had rammed a patrol vessel and its captain had been arrested.
The Fujita employees were arrested in retaliation for that.
As proof, the captain was detained for nineteen days, and the Fujita employees were also released exactly nineteen days later.
When Huawei vice chair Meng Wanzhou was arrested in Canada, Shina immediately arrested thirteen Canadians in Shina.
On top of that, it put another Canadian, who had been serving a fifteen-year sentence for bringing in stimulants, on retrial and sentenced him to death.
A country that carries out this kind of retaliation like a patellar tendon reflex is Shina.
The Japanese ambassador at the time was Niwa Uichiro, chairman of Itochu, who was infatuated with Shina.
Rather, he went so far as to viciously criticize Japan for not yielding the Senkaku Islands, calling it “a brat making a fuss with his penis exposed.”
In that same spirit, Itochu invested 600 billion yen in the declining Shina CITIC Group, but suffered an unprecedented loss.
At once, Shina detained a male employee of the company.
If Itochu withdraws its investment, Shina may even intend to sentence him to death.
Kim and Okada Yoshiko proved with their lives just how worthless communist states are.
And yet, without learning even that, there are still companies that entrust their dreams to Shina.
The employees may appear to have become their victims, but that is not so.
Employees who gladly join such companies and joyfully study the Shina language are also quite guilty.
