This chapter features Masayuki Takayama’s incisive analysis of when the collapse of the Asahi Shimbun began—during a party leaders’ debate on the eve of Abe’s second administration. The column recounts Asahi’s decades-long history of fabrications, including the Yoshida Seiji comfort-women hoax, false claims regarding the Nanjing Massacre, and politically motivated reporting on the Moritomo and Kake scandals. It also criticizes opposition parties for aligning themselves with Asahi’s agenda, such as promoting separate surnames for married couples. A powerful and essential commentary.

November 7, 2024

“The opposition parties, too, have made Asahi’s favorite agenda—separate surnames for married couples—a central pillar of their policies.
Their earnestness in accommodating a dying Asahi is almost endearing.”

October 29, 2021

“What about you, Mr. Hoshi?
Wasn’t it your Asahi Shimbun that spread the lies of the swindler Yoshida Seiji?”

What follows is the concluding column of Masayuki Takayama published in yesterday’s issue of Weekly Shincho.
This essay again proves that he is the one and only journalist in the postwar world.
It is a must-read for all voters before casting their ballots.
Not only the Japanese people but readers around the world must read it.

Let the Asahi Die Alone

When did the collapse of the Asahi Shimbun begin?
The exact date, time, and place are known.
It was just before the launch of the second Abe administration, at the party leaders’ debate hosted by the Japan National Press Club in the Press Center Building.

The highlight of the debate was that the Press Club would grill the ruling party leader in the form of a press conference.
The questioners were four representatives from Asahi, Mainichi, Yomiuri, and Nikkei.
There were concerns that “red” Asahi and Mainichi would dominate the proceedings, and there was even a movement to include Sankei.
However, Asahi, Mainichi, and Nikkei had China behind them, and due to that external pressure, the reorganization plan was halted.

Thus, the questioning proceeded as usual, led by Asahi’s Hoshi Hiroshi.
Asahi harbored deep resentment toward Abe.
Abe had openly criticized Asahi in the magazine Shokun!, and their attempt to attack him with the fabricated “NHK program alteration” story had backfired disastrously.
Someone even said, “We will hold Abe’s funeral.”
That is how much they hated him.

Hoshi first questioned Abe’s visits to the Yasukuni Shrine.
He asked whether Abe intended to antagonize China and South Korea.
Abe’s response was the same as Sanae Takaichi’s in the recent example:
Casually, “So what?”

Hoshi then brought up the comfort-women issue, which he claimed the world criticized Japan for.
Abe replied, “Mr. Hoshi, wasn’t it your Asahi Shimbun that spread the lies of the fraudster Yoshida Seiji?”
On national television, Asahi was accused of having broadcast fake news for thirty years.

Hoshi knew the comfort-women stories were false.
He simply believed that if a lie fit the Tokyo Tribunal view of history, it wasn’t such a bad lie.
But it was the first time he had been confronted head-on, and he panicked and fell silent.

This was when Asahi’s collapse began.

It continued steadily afterward, but the groundwork had long existed.
Asahi had mercilessly printed one lie after another.
That the 23rd Miyakonojo Regiment committed the Nanjing Massacre.
That Japanese smoke screens were poison gas.
That coral had been defaced and “the Japanese” were to blame.
The only “good” lie was crafting North Korea into a paradise and encouraging the return of ethnic Koreans living in Japan.
Everything else was nasty and malicious.

It is no wonder their circulation has halved, but they show no remorse.
They simply want to continue writing lies as they please and destroy Abe, who drove them into hardship.

In reviewing their past lies, they discovered something.
They were condemned because they had written complete falsehoods and labeled them “facts.”
So long as they didn’t call them facts, they wouldn’t be accused of misreporting.
If they wrote “there are suspicions,” it wouldn’t be a false report even if it wasn’t true.
Convenient, indeed.

Thus, under editorial chief Nemoto Seiki, the campaign to attack Abe with “suspicions” began.

The first salvo was the Moritomo Gakuen case.
Abe’s wife had given a lecture, and the Finance Ministry had discounted the price of land sold to the school.
They wrote that it “seemed suspicious.”
But the neighboring park owned by Toyonaka City was sold at a much cheaper price, and furthermore, Tsujimoto Kiyomi—with a history of public-fund embezzlement—was involved.
The suspicions were far stronger on that side.

“Don’t write about that.
We are writing suspicions to bring down Abe, not to report facts.”

The Kake Gakuen case was similar.
They claimed Abe approved it by overruling the opposition of the Japan Veterinary Medical Association to favor a friend.
Suspicious, they said.
But the one truly close to the association was Ishiba.

“We do not report facts.
Ignore Ishiba.
Write only that Abe is suspicious.”

It was under these circumstances that another party leaders’ debate was held.
Hoshi’s successor, Tsuboi Yuzuru, confronted Abe over the Kake issue.
Abe countered, saying, “Asahi failed to report Governor Kado’s testimony.”
He pointed out that Asahi had ceased factual reporting.

When Tsuboi faltered, Abe pressed further, asking, “Can you proudly say you reported the facts?”
According to a column by Abiru Rui, Tsuboi’s face turned bright red, and laughter leaked from the audience.

Asahi’s collapse gathered even more momentum.

Still, Nemoto did not relent.
He stirred up the wife of the Finance Ministry official who committed suicide in the Moritomo case, demanding she “release the Akagi Memo.”
When the memo was released, it showed that the official had clearly denied any improper discounting.
Rather, the pressure from opposition lawmakers such as Konishi Hiroyuki—who had ridden on Asahi’s suspicion-mongering—appeared to be a contributing factor to the suicide.

These “suspicion reports” continued to be recycled during the House of Representatives election, and anti-Abe stories still danced across Asahi’s pages.

The opposition parties, too, adopted Asahi’s favorite agenda—promoting separate surnames for married couples—as a central pillar of their platform.
Their earnestness in keeping pace with a dying Asahi is almost charming.