Beginning with a December 20, 2011 visit to the Sentō Imperial Palace, this essay develops reflections recorded in The Turntable of Civilization on Japan’s rebirth, the essence of the Internet, and the intellectual stance of Robert Scalapino. By referencing Sōseki, Akutagawa, and Miyazawa, it conveys the vision of solitary intellect and the mission of civilization.

Inspired by a scholar’s online writing—someone who has seen every garden in Kyoto—who stated, “the Sento Imperial Palace’s suhama [pebble beach] is the most magnificent,” I finally had the chance to visit on December 20, 2011, just before 2:30 p.m.

I am convinced that for Japan to regenerate (return to its original state), become a country that can save the world, and stand on par with the U.S. to lead the globe, the “solution” I wrote in the first volume of my book, “The Turntable of Civilization,” must be implemented. No matter which page you open, you will encounter my original thoughts—the words of a true Gifted individual fulfilling a mission given by God.

So, for whom do I write?

I want to continue to spin words that will remain forever in this, the largest library in human history, for as long as I live—words that reach thousands of kilometers away, as a person who was given a mission in the 21st century as described above.

Though readers cannot see it, my words have reached the ends of the earth from the very beginning. Just as many people at the core of Japan’s government are reading my words every day—officials in Kasumigaseki, politicians, editorial writers for newspapers, scholars at all national universities, and private universities like Waseda and Keio, and those at the core of Japan’s leading corporations.

People from America, China, South Korea, Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, France, Germany, Austria, Italy, and Sweden—people from all over the world are reading my words. On a certain day recently, the ratio of Japanese to American readers was two to one.

I want to continue writing only such words, just like in the wonderful song “Angela” by John Lennon and Yoko Ono, with the lyric “Your words reaches far.”

The world they inhabited could achieve nothing; they couldn’t even create peace.
Diary entry: Today, while in the car heading to Kyoto, I was reading this week’s Weekly Asahi.

There was an article where an “insider” author, Mr. H, was having a dialogue, and both he and his partner were criticizing the internet. The negative aspects of the online world they pointed out are indeed true, but the lack of intellect, lack of education, and lack of philosophy they noted exist in the real world in the same proportion. For this reason, the internet cannot be rejected entirely.

In the first place, it is a well-known fact that despite the internet being a world created by PCs that emerged only 30 years ago, most businesses cannot operate without it today.

The real problem that should be addressed is how site operators and administrators, who profit greatly from their sites, can create systems to exclude those who exploit anonymity and the lack of precedents to commit misdeeds—in other words, the parts that are uneducated, unintellectual, unphilosophical, and “evil.”

I am convinced that the essence of the internet is the largest library in human history—and one that is open to everyone, all over the world.

That is why even the “Arab Spring” was born… it was born even in that Arab region. The world inhabited by Mr. H and his dialogue partner could achieve nothing; they couldn’t even create peace (Folk Crusaders).

Diary entry: Actually, his close friends say it was because he disliked being mired in the unjust torrent of politics. From Asahi, 12/9, page 12.

Around that time, a young naval officer from Harvard University was ordered to learn Japanese. After an 18-month intensive course, he was assigned the task of deciphering Japanese military codes and interrogating prisoners of war. This was Dr. Robert Scalapino, who would become a pioneer of Asian studies in the United States at the University of California, Berkeley, after the war.

Reading his autobiography, The Asian Storm: A Life in the Study of Asia, one is struck by his timeless insight. After traversing various parts of Asia from his base in postwar Japan, the doctor became acutely aware in the 1950s that the shadow of the Chinese Communist Party was beginning to permeate the entire region. He realized the irreplaceable importance of an alliance with Japan, a rare democratic country.

Having served as an advisor to three presidents—Johnson, Nixon, and Carter—Dr. Scalapino dedicated his life to scholarship and consistently refused invitations to join the government. He used to say, “I prefer to debate with young people on an equal footing,” but his close friends say the real reason was that he disliked being mired in the unjust torrent of politics.

Every intelligent person must, by nature, dislike being mired in the unjust torrent of the world. Even I, who have received trials and a mission like Buddha or Christ, am inherently that way. The other day, when I was speaking with an acquaintance, I said, “I truly believe there is no greater happiness than being born a true elite and living a life as a true elite.” He smiled and said, “Kisara-san, I don’t think so. Various hardships follow everyone…”

This is probably a state of mind that can only be attained by someone who maintains a solitary or academic-like existence. Or, to put it another way, a state of mind given only to people who live in places like the one I visited today. No matter how calmly and purely one lives, one will be visited by calamities—that is the nature of the mundane world. One could say that Natsume Soseki and Akutagawa Ryunosuke wrote about this, while Miyazawa Kenji tried to overcome it by communing with nature and the cosmos.