This is a continuation of the previous chapter.
Masayuki Takayama recounts his decades-long feud with Asahi Shimbun, which resurfaced when the paper dismissed his career as merely “former Sankei reporter.”
He recalls the 1984 “poison gas operation” photo scandal, where Asahi’s fabricated report was exposed despite attempts to silence criticism.
Subsequent scandals, including the coral reef graffiti incident, further shattered Asahi’s prestige and toppled its presidents.
Takayama argues that Asahi continues to distort history and wield petty revenge, showing the danger of a press culture built on falsehoods rather than reporting.

A Long and Deep Feud with Asahi

This column, in addition to the issue of foreign naturalization, pointed out that there are those like Jusen Asuka who use assumed names to mock Japan and that Asahi encourages them.
I admonished Asahi to maintain the pride of a newspaper.
Then it seemed I was hit back with Asahi’s sure-kill “word-trap tactic.”
But when I read Asahi’s articles and editorials carefully, I felt, “So this is the persistence of Asahi.”
It was in the passage: “The column was part of Masayuki Takayama’s series Henken Jizai published in the July 31 issue of Shūkan Shinchō. He is a former Sankei Shimbun reporter.”
I left the Sankei Shimbun in March 2001, more than twenty-four years ago.
Since then I have worked as a lecturer at a private university while writing columns for monthly opinion magazines such as Themis and Voice.
A year later I began writing Henken Jizai for Shūkan Shinchō.
So I have written as a columnist for a quarter of a century, and naturally I thought my title was “columnist.”
Yet Asahi went back twenty-four years to call me “former Sankei reporter.”
I cannot understand it.
By the way, Mainichi introduces me as “journalist,” and Sankei as “writer” (laughs). That is correct.
I have written nonfiction works on Japanese aviation history such as 25,000 Hours of Flight (Bungeishunju), the mystery novel The Hellfire of Cherenkov (same), and The Black Trap Set by White Men (WAC), which recounts the battlefields of the last war.
I could even be a member of the Japan PEN Club.
Why ignore all that and dig up an old title from a quarter century ago?
Thinking about it, my feud with Asahi is long and deep.
Perhaps this is a revenge drama filled with that grudge.
To omit the details, the affair that became a matter of public commentary was Asahi’s front-page article of October 31, 1984: “This Is the Poison Gas Operation,” with photos.
The photo showed a dozen gray plumes rising into the sky.
Anyone could see it was not poison gas but a smoke screen.
Then freelance reporter Mizuho Ishikawa submitted a draft verifying that both the article and the photo were fake.
At the time, I was a desk editor in the social affairs department.
In fact, Ishikawa’s draft had been held back for two days.
The responsible desk editor hesitated to “pick a fight with Asahi Shimbun.”
In those days newspapers did not criticize each other even if there were errors.
It was a gentleman’s agreement led by Asahi.
During the first Security Treaty struggle, Asahi Journal had incited students, the demonstrators stormed the Diet, and even deaths occurred.
Then Nobutaro Riki of Asahi summoned the editors of Tokyo’s newspapers and had them publish a joint declaration opposing violent demonstrations, crafted by Asahi itself.
It was the very definition of playing both arsonist and fireman, yet other papers followed suit.
Because Asahi had such authority, Ishikawa’s draft was being shelved.
But I knew Asahi’s lack of discernment and would not bow to its prestige.
Without hesitation I ran it in flashy style on the top of the social affairs page.
Poison gas crawls along the ground.
It is common sense.
I joked, “If it rises into the sky it can only kill glass.”
The next morning Asahi’s head of the cultural desk, Akimi Satake, stormed into Sankei Shimbun yelling.
The editor-in-chief, deputy editors, and social affairs chief—unaware that Asahi was the naked king—all ran away.
As the one responsible for publication, I faced him alone.
Satake barked like a madman.
“You have a lot of nerve to defy Asahi,” he said.
I replied, “Thank you.”
That made him even more furious, and he went so far as to say, “You dare call it a false article? We will crush Sankei.”

The Collapse of Asahi’s Prestige

They were truly shocked that someone dared to mock Asahi.
Though he hurled every abuse, even from Mainichi, which usually acted like Asahi’s vassal, came information that “that photo was fake.”
In the end, indisputable evidence photos and living witnesses appeared, and Asahi admitted the blunder.
Sankei survived (laughs).
My exchanges with Satake spread across Japan as I recounted them in many places.
At the time Asahi was also claiming “the Nanjing Massacre occurred, involving the Miyazaki Regiment,” but that too was exposed as false and President Seiki Watanabe lost his head.
The prestige of Asahi crumbled.
Soon after came the coral reef graffiti scandal, when even Mainichi, which had once followed Asahi, denounced it thoroughly as a lying newspaper.
After that, newspapers no longer tolerated indecency by other outlets.
The criticism spread, beginning with “North Korea is a paradise on earth,” and grew into “all articles are lies,” “the only trustworthy part of Asahi is the ads.”
In fact, the coral graffiti scandal brought down President Toichiro Ichiyanagi, and his successor Toshitada Nakae was also forced out when it was revealed that he had demanded lavish entertainment from Recruit.
Since then, successive presidents have continued to fall over false reports and fabricated articles.
I have written in Henken Jizai that “Asahi writes lies without reporting.”
“Reporting first,” I stressed.
That is the background.
So perhaps Asahi ignored my actual career titles and dug up a label from twenty-five years ago.
Maybe they believe they have avenged Seiki Watanabe and Akimi Satake.
It feels like Asahi’s malicious intent, a petty act of revenge.
(To be continued.)