Dismantling Japan’s Ministry of Home Affairs Was the Fastest Way to Weaken the Nation
November 17, 2023
The following is from Masayuki Takayama’s book “Wake Up, Japanese People! See Through the Lies of Putin, Xi Jinping, Kim Jong-un, and the Asahi Shimbun” published on September 1, 2022.
This essay also proves that he is a truly one-of-a-kind journalist in the postwar world.
It is essential reading not only for the Japanese people, but for readers around the world.
All emphasis in the body text is mine.

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From the Lessons of the Wuhan Coronavirus, Japan Must Establish an “Emergency Powers Act”!

The Asahi Shimbun Glorifies Whites and Panders to the Chinese Even in Its COVID Coverage

The ongoing vertical fragmentation of Japan’s infectious disease control system
“The Spanish flu of a hundred years ago left behind countless insights and lessons for future generations.”
“Therefore, we too must leave something from the current COVID crisis for humanity 100 years from now,” wrote Wataru Sawamura, an editorial writer for the Asahi Shimbun, in a recent “Sunday Reflections” column.
If I recall correctly, he previously served as a correspondent in Washington and wrote articles that sounded like “I love Americans, but I hate Trump.”
In this column, too, he emotionally praises “wonderful Americans,” particularly the Smithsonian Institution for its COVID preservation efforts.

For example, he highlights how “Governor Murphy of New Jersey, in every press conference, spoke about each citizen who had died of COVID, describing their personalities.”
He praises the way “the tension of the battle against COVID” was communicated.
While it could also be interpreted as pre-election campaigning, let’s leave that aside.
He continues by saying that, in contrast to America’s sincere effort to leave a historical record, “Japan, by comparison,” is sealing off the memory of the pandemic.

His candid admiration for white people is almost endearing, but saying Japan is erasing the memory of COVID goes too far.
When the Wuhan coronavirus landed in Japan in January of last year, experts were already voicing serious concern over Japan’s border defense system.
The central issue was that disease control responsibilities were divided among multiple ministries—such as the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare (MHLW), the Immigration Bureau of the Ministry of Justice, and others—raising concerns over whether coordination would function.

As expected, while the government did dispatch a special aircraft to rescue Japanese citizens from Wuhan, two passengers who tested positive refused quarantine upon return and went home freely.
Authorities failed to prevent this.
A year later, the same problem persisted.

While the virus mutated into the more contagious Indian variant, Japan’s immigration control remained divided among the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, MHLW, the Ministry of Justice, and the National Tax Agency.
Even as the highly contagious Indian variant raged in India, direct flights from India continued to land at Narita and other airports daily—without any restrictions.

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Forced Quarantine Blocked by the MacArthur Constitution

Post-entry quarantines were lax.
Even as the Indian variant quickly spread within Japan, Health Minister Tamura coolly stated, “We have no legal authority to enforce restrictions.”
Although the LDP’s Foreign Affairs Division eventually raised its voice, and mandatory quarantines for travelers from India were implemented—though belatedly—the question remained:
Why can’t Japan enforce mandatory quarantine or entry bans in the first place?

The answer lies in Article 22 of the MacArthur Constitution, which can be interpreted as prohibiting forced quarantine under public authority, under the guise of “freedom of residence.”
If so, then the Constitution should be amended.
If time does not allow for that, the “Emergency Powers Act” once proposed by the Democratic Party should be passed.

At the same time, the vertical fragmentation of ministries responsible for disease control needed to be urgently resolved.
Fortunately, this is not especially difficult.

Before the war, infectious disease control was handled by the Ministry of Home Affairs.
Disease prevention was addressed in unison by the Police Affairs Bureau (now the National Police Agency), the Medical Affairs Bureau (now MHLW), the Local Administration Bureau (now the Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications), and the Immigration Bureau (now Ministry of Justice).

When outbreaks of plague or other infectious diseases occurred, police would first respond by transporting and isolating patients, and enforcing traffic restrictions.
The Immigration Bureau would conduct quarantine at airports and ports.
Because Taiwan and Korea retained this colonial-era Home Affairs system, their initial COVID responses produced strong results.

The Ministry of Home Affairs was dismantled by the GHQ, giving rise to today’s fragmented system.
They believed that to weaken Japan’s national strength, the fastest way was to dismantle the administrative core—the Home Affairs Ministry, where the brightest minds gathered.
If so, Japan should simply restore it without delay.

At first glance, there seems to be no problem in doing so—but in fact, the Ministry of Finance strongly opposes it.
The Ministry of Internal Affairs also dislikes the idea.

Why?
Because the Home Ministry had been home to giants like Masaharu Gotōda, Matsutarō Shōriki, Shunji Suzuki, and Yasuhiro Nakasone—figures who shaped postwar Japan.
It was a top-tier elite ministry, and its dissolution allowed the now-mediocre Ministry of Finance to play first fiddle, pretending to be a first-rate institution while pushing Japan into crisis.

The resurrection of the Home Affairs Ministry would mean the sunset of the Finance Ministry.
That’s why they resist, and that’s why Japan’s fragmented administration continues.

Japan’s First COVID Case Was a “Chinese National”
What the Japanese people should pass on to future generations as a lesson from the COVID-19 pandemic is the necessity of reviving a Ministry of Home Affairs on par with those in Western nations, and the need for an Emergency Powers Act.
What has made such reform difficult is none other than the MacArthur Constitution.
It is precisely the role of the National Diet to amend that—but look back over the past year.
Not once was the idea of constitutional reform even mentioned.
Instead, Parliament spent its time obsessing solely over the “cherry blossom viewing party.”
A brief intermission came in the form of an uproar over the suicide note of a bureaucrat linked to the Moritomo Gakuen scandal.
And it was undeniably the Asahi Shimbun that led the charge.

While Asahi wasted the nation’s time and let the COVID crisis unfold unchecked, even its very first report on the pandemic—dated January 16 of last year—was bizarre.
The article stated: “A man in his 30s from Kanagawa Prefecture who returned from Wuhan is the first domestic COVID case.”
What was bizarre was that, two weeks later, when the seventh patient appeared, Asahi wrote: “The first Japanese patient.”
Which means that patients one through six were all Chinese nationals.
The “return from Wuhan” in the first report wasn’t a return—it was an entry.

Why did Asahi present a Chinese national as though he were Japanese?
Why did they continue to maintain that illusion—or deliberately try to create it?
If from the start Asahi had honestly reported “Chinese nationals are high-risk” and “a wave of infections is arriving,” public opinion would have recognized the danger of the inbound shopping tourists.
By January 31—around the same time the United States imposed travel bans—Japan could have also blocked the entry of Chinese nationals.

That they didn’t, and instead ran misleading articles, stems from a corporate culture steeped in pandering to China, dating back to Akikazu Midoro and Tomoo Hirooka.
On top of that, Xi Jinping was scheduled to visit Japan in April.
As pro-China sympathizers, Asahi no doubt wanted to ensure that visit went forward at all costs.
Even during the pandemic, they colluded with opposition parties to hinder the government’s COVID response.
The aim was likely to suppress anti-China sentiment among the Japanese public and to redirect all criticism toward the mismanagement of Prime Ministers Abe and Suga.

One hundred years from now, Japan must tell the truth about the Asahi Shimbun’s cowardly and deceitful conduct.

(From the August 2021 issue)