The following is from an article by Professor Emeritus Yasuhiro Hirakawa of the University of Tokyo, which appeared in the Sound Argument section of the Sankei Shimbun on August 23, titled “Rootlessness is no good in the world.

All’s Well that Ends Well　

The 2020 Tokyo Olympic Games, which initially divided the nation between supporters and opponents, have ended.

After the exciting and heated games, one can’t help but feel that it was a good idea to hold the Olympics.　　

The fact that some people called for the cancellation of the Olympics was just an empty racket to ruin the reputation of the Suga cabinet, and I hate that it put a damper on the celebration.

It is also a pity that there was no constructive solution other than opposition.

It should have suggested that “elementary school students have never been infected with corona. Open the audience seats to children for free.”

I say this because the most memorable Olympics for me was the Berlin Olympics when I was a child.

In 1936, when I first entered kindergarten, I was asked to draw a picture of the Japanese flag, followed by the Olympic flag.

From left to right, the colors were blue, yellow, black, green, and red, forming a circle of five.

My elementary school P.E. teacher was a member of the Berlin Olympic delegation, which alone gave me a halo.　

However, I have particularly fond memories of the documentary film “Festival of Nations,” released a few years later.

It was a time when Japan and Germany were trying to ally, so it highlighted the efforts of the Japanese athletes in the film.

After the war, the female director, Leni Riefenstahl, was accused of making a Nazi propaganda film, but I disagree.

I saw the film with my sister, who suddenly jumped out at me because she was a black athlete, whom the racist Hitler hated.

Owens was the first American in both the 100 meters and the long jump.

In the 10,000-meter race, the diminutive Kohei Murasha ran hard in front of the taller Finnish runners and was eventually overtaken but finished fourth.

In the marathon, Sohn Kee-chung and Nam Sung-yong came in first and third, respectively, and the children were happy that Japan had won.

The two from the peninsula must have been regarded as heroes in Korea when they returned to Korea, but how were their later years?

They must have been accused of being “pro-Japanese” for running with a Japanese flag on their chest.　

Watching the Tokyo Olympics

The scene that left a deep impression on me was when Shuhei Nishida and Toshio Oe competed with American athletes in the pole vault.

They raised the height of the pole vault, but they could not reach an end. The sky gradually darkened. The fight to the death continues. Finally, the U.S. athlete finishes first, and Nishida and Oe finish second and third.

I remember that Oe’s name appeared in the newspaper reporting the enemy’s casualties landing on Luzon Island at the beginning of the war between Japan and the United States.　

I was relieved when the junior high school sports club, a hive of bullying among the upperclassmen, changed its participation from compulsory to optional after the defeat in the war.

As a literary weakling, I had little interest in the Tokyo Olympics or other competitions, and even when the women’s volleyball team won the championship in 1994, I was disgusted when the coach, “Oni no Omatsu,” was extolled, as his intense training reminded me of the discipline of recruits during the war.　

As such, I could only remember the players’ names at the Berlin games, which was the first time I had watched the games in detail, so I refrained from going out unnecessarily and watched the games on T.V.　

In the women’s softball game, the shortstop behind the third baseman caught the ball and stabbed the U.S. player who ran out from the second base.

I couldn’t help but shout “hurray” at the miracle of the double play.　

Between watching T.V. every day, I also read Kei Ushimura’s “The Rising Sun of Stockholm” (Chuko Sensho).

Knowing the efforts of our predecessors since the Meiji era, who hoped to join the ranks of civilized nations by participating in the Olympics, I was somewhat ashamed that I had looked down on sports clubs as barbaric.　

I was amazed at the beautiful mixed-gender table tennis competition.

Once the competition started, even the prominent newspapers, which used to be anti-Olympic in their editorials, widely reported Japan’s victory as “the most gold medals in history.

A large photo of an athlete jumping up and down with the Japanese flag spread out was shown. But is it right to incite nationalism in such a manner?

Should the Olympics be nationalistic, not internationalistic, or stateless?　

Are the Olympics national or internationalist?　

My daughter, a teacher, gave the textbook answer that the Olympics are a festival of peace, while my grandson, a university student, said that the Olympics increase nationalism among ethnic groups.　

Well, the “Festival of Nations” is not a stateless event. As long as athletes represent their countries in the games, it will strengthen nationalism.

When the old-fashioned “Kimigayo” is played, the old layers of my heart are moved, and I affirm such honest feelings.

It is precise because of this nationalism that internationalism is possible.

Only when you have one foot in your own country and another foot in the world can you be a valuable and practical human resource.　

However, there seems to be a pseudo-internationalist in the Japanese Olympic community who mistakenly believes that denying one’s own country and criticizing one’s own people is enough to gain international acceptance.

“They say, “The expression ‘the people’ is completely outdated so that we will get rid of it, and we will not use Japanese, only English.　

We will eliminate the expression ‘the people’ because it is completely outdated.” 

It cannot accept such a person either in Japan or in the world. 

It is disqualified.

It is a red card for anyone involved in the Olympics.　　　　　

(Sukehiro Hirakawa)