A critique of public broadcasting that exposes subtle opinion-shaping through selective cultural narratives and symbolic reporting.

2016-02-22

What remains puzzling, after all, is NHK’s broadcasting intent.

Why would a nationwide broadcast feature a conductor in whom most Japanese people have little interest, merely because he conducted an orchestra in Austria—probably in a rural town—an orchestra that no one in the world seems to know?

It almost appears as though they want to suggest that Austria is a culturally superior nation to Japan.

The only people who believe Japan to be culturally inferior to Austria are likely those from South Korea or China.

Is this meant to imprint upon the Japanese public the idea that Japan is a nation that did wrong, that Japanese are bad people, while Austrians, as shown here, are cultured and progressive?

Could this orchestra and the venue have some connection to the Austrian female committee member mentioned in the previous chapter?

After all, NHK is the broadcaster that gleefully aired the so-called “Women’s International War Crimes Tribunal,” an event organized jointly by an Asahi Shimbun reporter—Matsui Yayori, a notorious activist—and North Korean spies, an event that was nothing short of treason itself.

Is it inconvenient for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to awaken and begin working for Japan?

As reported by the Sankei Shimbun, just as the Ministry finally began speaking the truth, China is said to be taking the lead, with figures like that Austrian female committee member agreeing, to issue a statement criticizing Japan.

At that moment, they likely wish to create public opinion telling the Japanese people: “As you can see, even Austria—a cultural nation that lets a conductor like Yutaka Sado perform—supports this view, so you should quietly comply.”

China and South Korea must, without doubt, be frantically maneuvering behind the scenes to have such statements issued, in order to cover up their own lies by condemning Japan.

The reason I was forced to step forward like this—and nearly lost my life as a result—was, when I think about it, also due to NHK’s reporting.

For three months, entirely alone, I fought against the Kansai Economic Federation, the Association of Corporate Executives, and Osaka City Hall.

Regarding the sudden absurd proposal to halt the second phase of the North Yard development and turn it into a green park, I believed I had extinguished that foolish idea.

Yet one evening, NHK broadcast on its 6 p.m. news an unbelievable program: cameras were brought into a Minoo elementary school classroom, and students were prompted to say things like, “Let’s build a soccer stadium in North Yard and invite the World Cup.”

There is something deeply suspicious about this broadcaster.