This essay criticizes the childish attacks on Abenomics promoted by media such as Sunday Mainichi and exposes how journalists like Atsushi Yamada buried the Miyazawa administration’s decisive public-fund policy, which could have rescued Japan’s economy. It argues that fabricated anti-Japan narratives in line with Chinese communist propaganda helped create Japan’s long-term deflation, while asserting that today’s Doshisha students possess enough sound realism not to be poisoned by such ideological harm.

I am convinced that their sound sense of reality is not so fragile as to be tainted by the poison of “Hama Obasan.”
January 26, 2016.
The following is a continuation of what I sent out this morning under the title, “This is the uniquely Japanese rare spectacle that the world has never known.”

At the rest area of my favorite spot, my close friend was waiting for me while reading the Kyoto Shimbun that was there. He showed me the lower advertisement section, in which a large advertisement for Sunday Mainichi was placed. The top item featured the truly childish economics professor of Doshisha University whom I mentioned at the outset: “Scolding Abenomics.” As I have repeatedly mentioned in connection with the unbearable bias of TBS’s News 23 and the appalling nature of Report Special (including the unmistakably leftist-degenerate faces of its panelists), the vulgarity and stupidity of the Mainichi group are simply intolerable. This newspaper has long followed the course of the Asahi, yet perhaps imagines that, unlike Asahi, its true nature has not been exposed. But in reality, it now walks at the very forefront of biased reporting in Japan. Thus, the article in Sunday Mainichi was exactly what one would expect.

What the Miyazawa Kiichi administration had perceived at the time was buried in darkness, and through their habitual pseudo-moralistic “chorus of justice” (for those who grew up reading the Asahi were also Japan’s elites), even the leaders of the banking industry themselves helped consign Miyazawa’s far-sighted policy to oblivion. They allowed the bad-loan problem to be masked with a mere 800 billion yen. The person responsible was Atsushi Yamada, then a reporter in the economics department of the Asahi Shimbun.

While they repeatedly fabricated reports such as the Nanjing Massacre and the so-called “hundred-man killing” in accordance with the scenario of China’s one-party communist dictatorship, shaping public opinion and gleefully forcing the Japanese people to pay 30 trillion yen of their tax money to China, they buried the Miyazawa cabinet’s attempt to resolve the crisis by boldly injecting 10 to 15 trillion yen of public funds at once in order to save the Japanese state and its citizens. In doing so, they produced the Japanese-style long-term deflation that is now loathed like a plague throughout the world.

Around July 16, 2010, when I was forced to make my appearance in this arena, this same Yamada shamelessly put forward another idiotic commentary—claiming an exchange rate of 60 yen to the dollar—something so childish that it could only be described as being manipulated by information agencies such as those of South Korea. He was again attempting to weaken Japan even further.

At that time there was also the utterly hopeless “Hama Obasan” of Doshisha University. I visit the Kyoto Imperial Palace dozens of times a year, and occasionally dine at the restaurant on the first floor of the Doshisha Hall facing Karasuma Street. On such occasions I have even passed her by. If she were merely drinking late into the night in Kitashinchi, that would be one thing. But when matters reach this level, they are no longer tolerable.

Even so, it is unlikely that she has much influence on the students of Doshisha University. For Doshisha is still a university attended by young men and women from good families, and they live lives so fortunate that they have no time to be infected by the distorted ideologies of failed leftists or failed financiers.

Today’s students live in a world completely different from that of the Zenkyōtō generation in which Hama Obasan spent her youth. I am convinced that their sound sense of reality is not so weak as to be stained by her poisonous influence. The power of affluence—that is, not being poor—is exceedingly strong.