An impassioned critique of the Japanese government’s response to the unprecedented disaster of the Great East Japan Earthquake. The author condemns Prime Minister Naoto Kan’s actions and press conference remarks as “vulgar,” accusing him of attempting to use the disaster for his own political gain. While praising the engineering excellence of Japan Steel Works, which ensured the safety of the nuclear containment vessel, the author harshly criticizes the government’s response, which he claims was full of pointless showmanship and caused unnecessary anxiety among the public. The piece ends by labeling the leader’s failure to order a full mobilization of the military as “utterly idiotic,” calling for a true leader who would prioritize saving lives above all else.

The tsunami footage from Kamaishi on NHK’s 7 p.m. news just now crushed my chest.

Shot by people who had evacuated to high ground, this footage aired for the first time tonight. Watching it, I felt my heart cave in…

Even those residents on high ground—little children among them—were crying. Of course they were.

Here’s what I thought while watching today’s press conferences.

For reasons I’ve already mentioned, I’ve had two TVs running nonstop since yesterday. Just before 6 p.m. today, something bothered me greatly—about Fukushima Daiichi.

Then at 8:30 p.m., the Chief Cabinet Secretary’s press conference on the same subject was completely the opposite in tone.

If I had to draw one conclusion: good. Chalk it up to Japan Steel Works—proof of Japanese industrial excellence.

Many will know this: not only does Japan Steel Works hold over 80% of the global market for nuclear containment vessels, in practice they’re the only company that can make them. I once heard a Singapore-based Japan equity fund manager say in an interview that he built portfolios around these “only-one” Japanese firms.

“The containment vessel is completely undamaged.” So JSW really is the real thing, I thought.

Another issue is how they explained it.

After the prime minister’s 8:30 p.m. “message to the people,” the Chief Cabinet Secretary presented information that he could—indeed should—have announced at the 6 p.m. briefing.

Instead, at 6 p.m. he talked about chain emails, and—though I’ve been watching since yesterday and think TV networks are doing well this time—he asked the media to include comments like “don’t enter restricted areas” (presumably “don’t film there”). This was not the occasion for such remarks.

Was that because only Nippon TV aired the footage of the building blown apart by a hydrogen explosion? If so, that contradicts how the very same Nippon TV leaked a decisive Ozawa scandal to a weekly magazine at the climax of the party leadership race.

What struck me, in simple terms, is that the man cornered by a front-page Asahi scoop on his political donations—dead to rights—now seems intent on using even this unprecedented disaster of earthquake and tsunami to preserve his power. It shows.

After a press conference that mainly served to say, “I was on a helicopter at 6 a.m. and conducted an inspection,” he basically withdrew, leaving the rest to his underling: “He’ll take your questions now.”

In order to stage a moment to declare “I’m on top of everything,” he imposed an unnecessary, pointless two and a half hours of stress on the public. That’s what I think.

Given the gravity of events, whatever could be said at 6 p.m. should have been said. Even the Chief Cabinet Secretary admitted as much—he apologized.

Now I’m hearing that in Arahama, Sendai, 200 to 300 bodies believed to be drowning victims have been found.

Arahama is across the river from my town—the very first area shown when the tsunami on the Natori River appeared on screen.

As a child, I’d cross the river by boat and wiggle my toes in the shorebreak to catch lots of sole; in junior high, my friends and I gathered clams there, built a roaring fire on the spot, and ate them.

If I may be blunt…

If a “politician” truly wanted to prevent secondary disasters following a cataclysm on the scale of this one—the greatest earthquake and tsunami in centuries—then, for example, he would consider closing the Tokyo Stock Exchange on Monday. That’s what it would take.

Bureaucrats can handle disaster response—there are precedents and playbooks. It can be executed quickly. After years of exploiting the media and hoarding information, to turn around now and scold them like children—even as so many reporters are showing genuine journalistic spirit—is unacceptable.

Allow me to say it plainly: utter fools.

Yesterday’s briefing, too. Even this morning, news came in of many people stranded across the country. I thought: deep down, these men are thinking, “This will save our necks; we can divert public criticism.” Why do I think so?

Even in Osaka, that abnormal, long, eerie shaking told us this quake was no ordinary event.

This prime minister and his hangers-on are, in my view, hopeless. Why? Because before embarking on a so-called “inspection” and wasting his subordinates’ time and energy on theater everyone sees through—

He should have ordered the entire Self-Defense Forces into action. That is what a real commander does.

Why? Suppose Japan were in a limited war with another country. Even then, the other side wouldn’t invade at a moment like this. They would offer condolences and perhaps send rescue teams.

If we had spun up the SDF’s full capabilities, we would not still have so many people isolated today.

Here too, there’s a class of people who live in Tokyo—eating the rice, produce, meat, eggs, and fish supplied by the very people now sacrificed—while this prime minister is, frankly, base. Vulgar.

Why couldn’t he say “full mobilization”? What a damned fool.