The Asia-Pacific Journal | Japan Focus Volume 14 | Issue 17 | Number 4 | Article ID 4954 | Sep 01, 2016

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“We need to recognize this hopeless sight…. To recognize thatthis horrible crime is what our country is doing to us”:Interview with Mutō Ruiko

Mutō Ruiko interviewed by Katsuya Hirano

Translation by Ryoko Nishijima

Transcription by Akiko Anson

Mutō Ruiko is a long-time antinuclear activistbased in Fukushima. She represents 1,324Fukushima residents who filed a criminalcomplaint in June 2012 pressing chargesagainst TEPCO executives and governmentofficials. In July 2015, an inquest committeedecided that three former executives of TEPCOmerited indictment, clearing the way for acriminal trial. This marked an unprecedenteddevelopment in the history of criminal justice inJapan since indictment against the nuclearindustry had never been granted in thecountry. On August 26, 2015, I visited Mutō inMiharumachi, Fukushima to hear about heractivism, understanding of the Fukushimasituations, and view of ecological issues on aglobal scale. Norma Field, a close friend ofMutō and a scholar who has been working onFukushima issues since 2011, contributes ana c c o m p a n y i n g e s s a y(https://apjjf.org/2016/17/Field.html) that putsthis interview into a critical perspective. Fordetails about the content of the criminalcomplaint and Mutō’s background, seeYamaguchi Tomomi and Mutō Ruiko, “MutoRuiko and the Movement of FukushimaResidents to Pursue Criminal Charges againstTepco Executives and Government Officials” int h e A s i a - P a c i f i c J o u r n a l ( L i n k(https://apjjf.org/2012/10/27/Tomomi-Yamaguchi/3784/article.html)). (K.H.)

Mutō Ruiko

How the Complainants for the CriminalProsecution of the Fukushima NuclearDisaster Came into Being

Hirano: Thank you very much for agreeing toan interview today. Ms. Mutō, you representthe organization, The Complainants for theCriminal Prosecution of the Fukushima NuclearDisaster, which has sought criminal indictmentof those deemed responsible for the disaster. Afew days ago, an inquest committee decidedthat three former executives of TEPCO shouldbe indictment, clearing the way for a criminaltrial.2 (https://apjjf.org/#_edn2) First, could youexplain how the Complainants group wasformed?

Mutō: Concerning The Complainants for the

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Criminal Prosecution of the Fukushima NuclearDisaster… I actually knew nothing aboutnuclear power plants until the Chernobylaccident. After that, I realized how dangerousnuclear power could be, and became deeplyinvolved in the anti-nuclear movement. Before,there was a small group in Fukushima called“Fukushima Network for the Abolition ofNuclear Power,” which continued its activitieson a smaller scale. After the accident inFukushima, I had the opportunity to reunitewith some members of this group.

We held two workshops to discuss things wecould do as a group experienced in anti-nuclearactivism. Many young people with children hadevacuated outside the prefecture after theaccident. It was at this moment when the linkbetween those who evacuated and those whoremained was getting weaker that I felt theurgent necessity to somehow find a way toreconnect.

We had planned a major event on March 26thand 27th, 2011, but the accident occurred twoweeks before the date we had originally set.Everyone had evacuated and left. On March26th, Saeko Uno-san from Kyoto – maybe shewas in Kyushu at the time – suggested we holda simultaneous press conference from each oft h e p l a c e s w e h a d e v a c u a t e d . 3

(https://apjjf.org/#_edn3) “Let’s tell the worldabout our difficult circumstances fromwherever we are,” she said. Through this eventwe gradually came to realize how the evacueeswere living their lives. Eventually, after severalevents and study camps, in January 2012, wec a m e u p w i t h t w o g o a l s : t o p u r s u eaccountability, and to set up some form ofofficial record like the hibakusha techō, abooklet that certifies one’s radiation exposure.You know about the Atomic Bomb SurvivorsRelief Law. That took 12 years to becomeeffective after the bomb was dropped, but wewanted to act more swiftly to establish suchlegal protection, and we wanted to follow thee x a m p l e o f t h e C h e r n o b y l l a w s . 4

(https://apjjf.org/#_edn4) We weren’t actuallyable to accomplish much since we were only asmall group with 20 members or so, but at leastwe identified two goals for the future.

In January 2012, we consulted with Mr. Kawai,the lawyer with whom we work now. At first,Kawai-san seemed to find our aims ratherunrealistic. Soon, a writer named HiroseTakashi and Akashi Shōjiro, along with lawyerYasuda Yukuo, filed a criminal complaint andw r o t e a b o o k a b o u t i t . 5

(https://apjjf.org/#_edn5) We invited thosethree to our study group to discuss whether wecould also attempt to fi le for criminalprosecution. Around 100 people gathered andthere was great momentum to take this action.In March 2012, the Complainants for theCriminal Prosecut ion was of f ic ia l lyinaugurated.

Hirano: The Fukushima nuclear power plant(NPP) had various problems even before theaccident in 2011. In 1989, for example, therewas a massive accident at Plant 2 Reactor Unit3, where the circulation pump for sendingcoolant water into the reactor was broken, andthe reactor was off line for almost two years.Mutō-san, you had already organized theFukushima Network for the Abolition ofNuclear Power in 1988, and for over 20 yearsdemanded that TEPCO investigate the cause ofthe problem in order to prevent futureaccidents. How did TEPCO respond to you backin those days?

Mutō: The damage at Reactor 3 occurred atthe end of the year in 1989. The alarm went offand sounded continuously for about a weekthrough the New Year holidays. At first I hadno idea what was going on, but it turned out tobe a serious problem. The recirculation pumpwas fractured – it is called the guillotine break– and, had it gone wrong, would have led to aterrible disaster. After this incident, manypeople in Tokyo who participated as consumersin the anti-nuclear movement came to support

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us, like Higashii Rei who is in Shizuoka rightnow, and Oga Ayaka who ended up moving toFukushima – I think she had just graduatedfrom high school back then. Many people fromvarious backgrounds came and our movementgained a lot of momentum.

TEPCO had covered up the fact that the sirenshad been going off for a week. This incidentalready reveals their tendency to hide thetruth. When they were going to resumeoperation, we held a referendum about whetherlocal residents were for or against restartingthe reactor. We visited residents individuallyand handed out flyers discussing the dangers.We went on an all-female hunger strike, andthere were others who set up a tent and startedsomething like an Occupy action. We triedmany different things, but we weren’t able tostop them.

Around that time, we began negotiationmeetings with TEPCO. Each month, we wouldgo to places like the service halls in FukushimaPlants 1 or 2; the publicity people from theplants would come over and answer ourquestions, and we would hand them documentslisting our demands. We continued this monthlynegotiation for 20 years until the accidentoccurred. Resuming this activity after twoyears of hiatus following the accident, I noticedthat TEPCO’s corporate culture essentiallyremains the same (laughter). Even now, once amonth, we hold negotiations with TEPCO forabout three hours and end up almost feelingsick.

Hirano: What sort of attitude do they displayduring those three hours?

Mutō: Well, you might say they’re obsequious,or—they act as if they’re truly sorry, but whenwe start pressing for details, they fly into arage.

Hirano: They get mad at you? (laughter) Wow.

Mutō: Yes, they get angry. Basically, they have

no awareness that they’re the perpetrators.They think that they’re the victims.

Hirano: Why the victims?

Mutō: Of course they realize that TEPCO is theone that caused the accident. But from theirperspective, they probably feel that it was thetsunami that brought about this unfortunatesituation and they were frantically doing theirbest, so why should they be getting suchcomplaints?

The predisposition of the organization might besomething like “We’re not doing anythingwrong, we’re the ones with the highesttechnology and proper understanding of thesituation, which ordinary citizens can’t grasp.”Of course they won’t say this directly to ourface, but this is what it feels like.

H i r a n o : T h e y b r u s h y o u o f f w i t hcondescension. The gap between citizens andexperts is unavoidable because ordinary peopleare ignorant and uneducated.

Mutō: I always sense that. Sometimes we justcan’t take it anymore and feel like bursting out,“This is too much!” “We are the victims! Youbrought this on us, don’t you understand!?”Maybe this is too grandiose, but I think wehave an opportunity to rethink what“development” means. They believe thatcertain sacrifices are inevitable. Using nuclearpower to generate electricity requires sacrificeon a fundamental level, right? But is it reallyokay for us to keep thinking that certainsacrifices are necessary for the sake ofdevelopment and economic outcomes? We needto revisit this question. This is a human rightsissue.

Developmentalism and Sacrif ice,Education and Victimhood

Hirano: So from your perspective, at the coreof the nuclear power plant issue, as you justmentioned, is the idea of developmentalism

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(hattenshugi/発展主義). The nuclear powerplant is the ultimate outcome, in the mostdisfigured form, of an idea that prioritizesdevelopment, that a society will and shouldcontinue to maximize wealth at the expense ofcertain peoples or communities. Is this how youfeel?

Mutō: Yes, that is the very symbol of a nuclearpower plant. Especially, the idea of “necessarysacrifice” is embedded in a structure ofdiscrimination against those who are sacrificed.The nuclear accident revealed the structuralproblem in which those subjected todiscrimination have been exposed to astupendous amount of danger for the benefit ofbig corporations or those who live in the city.However, this danger has been concealed withthe power of money and the safety myth, andeven after the accident, when people havebecome victims, they are hindered fromrecognizing themselves as such. Being a victimmeans that you must make a conscious effort tobecome aware of your victimhood. Otherwise,you become numb, or are made to becomenumb, to the fact that you have been subjectedto something very unreasonable. I think that isone of the main issues.

I often feel like shouting out, is it really okay ifwe end up just crying ourselves to sleep? Iknow everybody’s concerned about life andlivelihood, and that a lot of energy is taken upthere, and that there’re important things wewant to protect. But the way in which peopleare constantly being discriminated against,exploited, and faced with outrageous situationsin this social structure—if we don’t gain self-awareness of these things, it’s going to bedifficult to change them from our end. So Ithink it’s extremely important to be consciousof our v ic t imhood. Then, as we ga inconsciousness of our victimhood, I think westart seeing our own participation invictimization, which also needs to be examined.

Hirano: I could not agree more. In your book

From Fukushima to You you wrote, “We havebeen molded into citizens who do not speak out– citizens who have had to lock up their anger.”You also mentioned this point during the“Goodbye Nuclear Power: Gathering of50,000.” As someone who has long been part ofthe field of education, do you think thisdifficulty in recognizing one’s victimhood issomehow related to Japan’s educationalsystem?

Mutō: Previously, I had been teaching at aschool for people with disabilities. Myconnection with them has had a big influenceon me. It is obvious that they have been sociallyoppressed for their disabilities. Yet, those whoare mentally challenged, for example, are in avery difficult position to point this out and tryto change the situation with their own hands,though of course, there are many who havebravely fought for it.

Also, facing these disabled students as ateacher, you find yourself in a position of powerin the school – inside the classroom, you are theauthority figure (laughter). Of course, it wasfun spending time with the children, and therewas a lot I learned from them. There weremany things I couldn’t handle on my own. Butto be a teacher in a school is to be in an awfullypowerful position, and you look down from onhigh. I’ve always felt uneasy being in thatposition. I’m not very smart so I can’t expressthis feeling with the right words, but I’vealways wondered, what is this structure? Thereare certain wonderful aspects of education, butwhen you think about how schools came intobeing, you have to think one of its purposes isto produce people conveniently suited for theneeds of the nation, to mold citizens convenientfor society.

Hirano: Especially compulsory education.

Fear and Deception, Despair and Accuracy

Hirano: In your speech at the Gathering of50,000, you said, “After half a year has passed

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[since the accident], it has gradually becomeclear that the truth is concealed. The Statedoes not protect its citizens. The accident hasnot ended. Fukushima residents will be turnedinto the subjects of nuclear experimentation. Astupendous amount of nuclear waste will beleft. There exists a force bent on promotingnuclear power despite the sacrifice alreadymade . We have been abandoned . ” 6

(https://apjjf.org/#_edn6) Unfortunately, itseems like these words accurately foretoldwhat would soon become reality. It has beenfour years since the accident, but the situationhas not changed.

Mutō: No it hasn’t. I feel a sense of shock overhow reality has become exactly as I depicted.Why did I write this at the time? But it is true Ialready had this feeling then. Sometimes Iwonder if I should have written this sort ofthing. But you are right. What I said hasbecome true. It might actually be worse.

Hirano: You started this speech with anapology, an apology to the young generation.Why did you want to start your speech likethat?

Mutō: That was about leaving behind thewaste. Radiation will not be gone during ourlifetime. We can’t clean up this thing thatwould last for hundreds, even thousands andtens of thousands of years. We will die, leavingthe waste with them. I couldn’t bear that fact.

Even without the nuclear accident, youngpeople were already under awful pressure.They didn’t feel good about themselves, theycouldn’t feel confident. Add to that, radiatione x p o s u r e . Y o u n g p e o p l e w h o w e r eexposed—wouldn’t they become self -destructive, wouldn’t they be bullied and hurt.How could they have any self-confidence?These thoughts burst into my mind. So ofcourse we have to apologize, I thought. Thenuclear waste is bad enough, but thepsychological burden we’ve imposed seemshuge. I couldn’t help wondering if this wasn’t a

generation that wouldn’t be able to find thepower to push back.

But I shouldn’t generalize. There’re lots ofyoung people coming forward. The other day, Iran into Okuda-kun, you know, one of theleaders of SEALDs (http://www.sealds.com/)(Student Emergency Action for LiberalDemocracy) at a park in Kamakura. I had achance to talk with him for a bit. Watchingsomebody like him, I can see that there’s animagination and footwork and a sensibility wedon’t have. If I think about that, I begin to feelthat even though their approach is totallydifferent from ours, they’re going to be able toovercome this situation. That’s the feeling I getfrom talking with young people. Not all ofthem, but some. That’s why I want to behopeful, and I want to say to them, please,you’ve got to love yourself. That’s what I wantto tell them.

Radioactive contamination and exposure is afrightening, serious issue. That is a fact, so Idon’t want people to look away, but at the sametime, I don’t want this to be a movement purelymotivated by fear. I want us to choose adifferent route, to bring imagination to themovement.

Hirano: You have repeatedly made the pointthat you do not wish it to be a movementmotivated by fear. Can you elaborate?

Mutō: Well, radiation is indeed terrifying, but Ithink emotions like fear and anger aresomething we don’t really want to see inourselves. “Legitimate anger” is a necessarypart of our emotion. Yet, you suffer greatlywhen beset by emotions like anger and fear,right? It is hard to watch others feeling angry. Iam the type of person who can’t really dealwith those who are livid or speak aggressively.I myself am not very hot-tempered. I am notgood at giving in to my feelings and letting myanger explode, even if harsh words come tomind. There are good and bad sides to this, butI can’t endure the pain of experiencing such

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anger. That’s why I want so much to be calm.

In my speech, I described the people inFukushima as “the ogres of the Northeastquietly burning their anger.” I put a lot ofthought into the word choice of “quietly.” Ofcourse, anger is very important, and you haveto be angry, but I want that anger to be calm.Now, people tell me that we can’t be so “quiet”with our anger, and I think to myself, that’s notexactly what I mean (laughter). But everyonecan interpret it differently, I think (laughter).So, yes, I want to stay calm and look intently atreality. Even despair. I want to take on despair,too, and despair properly. It’s by looking at itsquarely that I want to go about finding thenext step.

Hirano: You want to calmly accept despair asdespair. Otherwise, you cannot find the nextstep or discover new hope. Is this what youmean?

Mutō: I think humans can’t go on livingwithout hope. But we need to acknowledge thishopeless sight before us. This is what ournation is doing. Our anger and sadness willdeepen and mature. That can give birth to theprospect of a future. Everybody’s different, Iknow, but for me, I am a person who wants toknow (laughter). I just want to know the truth.

Hirano: I see. You want to have a clear idea ofthe situation, even if it is an absolutely hopelessone.

Mutō: Yes. Of course, I do feel angry and sad.But I really hate the feeling that there arethings I don’t know (laughter). That is a strongdesire in me.

But there i s no way I can have a fu l lunderstanding of the truth about everything,and frankly, I can’t hold too many things in mymind anymore. There is just too muchinformation, so it’s a somewhat painful task.But there’s a lot of information that I don’tneed to know, so maybe it’s a question of the

ability to sift through information. I want toknow before I act.

Hirano: As an activist in the position of leadinga movement, has your experience led you tothink that it’s extremely important to stay calm,and to speak and act based on a firm grasp ofthe facts?

Mutō: I do understand that in some cases it isalso important to let your emotions show. But ifyou only pick up and transmit the incorrect,most sensational parts, there are lots of peoplewho will gladly seize on them [for theirsensational effects]. But if in fact, what you’resaying is a bit inaccurate, or includes manyproblematic issues, you’re likely to get trippedup. But at the same time, because so much isconcealed, some details, what looks like fakeinformation, might turn out to be true. It’scrucial to be able to make those distinctions. Iguess I hate the feeling of being manipulated.

So if possible, I prefer to speak only after I’velooked into an issue carefully. I have a lot ofconcerns regarding health threats, and certainthings are showing up that make me wonder,but I feel it’s still early to talk about them yet.

Hirano: Are there examples from here inMiharu-machi (三春町)?

Mutō: Yes. For a long time I’ve maintained theposition that while I do have concerns abouthealth issues, I can’t speak to them. Startingaround this year, however, many people aroundme in their 20s, 30s, 40s and 50s have died.Just this year, eight or nine people whom Iknow died. Half of those were sudden deaths,like heart attack. According to surveys,Fukushima is now ranked at the top in all ofJapan for heart disease. It was fifth in thenation until 2011 so there was quite a lot ofcardiac disease to begin with. But to be at thetop in the whole country after 2011. I can’t helpthinking there might be some connection.

Hirano: What do you think about the

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responsibility of those scholars receivinggovernment patronage who came to Fukushimaright after the accident and defended the safetymyth? In your first Complaint, they (YamashitaShunichi, Kamiya Kenji, Komura Noboru) wereincluded, right?7 (https://apjjf.org/#_edn7)　

Mutō: Yes.

Hirano: So they came here and claimed that itwas safe even after the accident. They spreadthe safety myth: “100 mSv is fine. Under 10mSv/hour, it’s safe to play outside.” When somepeople raised concerns about health, theywould respond with irresponsible and irrationalarguments like “If you worry too much, youreally will get exposed.” How do you think theirpresence affected the residents of Fukushima?

Mutō: Oh it was massive. It certainly played ahuge role in providing a strong sense ofsecurity. It was March of 2011 when thesepeople came. They had already done a seminarin Iwaki city at the end of March. After that,they went around the cities with high radiationlevels like Iitate village, Fukushima city, andDate city. On May 3rd, I went to a talk byYamashita Shunichi (then at NagasakiUniversity) in Nihonmatsu city (二本松市).There were already some people who weren’tfeeling just right. So there was a suggestionpassed around various mailing lists that wewear something yellow if we weren’t feelingwell. So I went with a yellow bandana.

During that talk on May 3rd, Sasaki Michinori –he is from the local temple in Nihonmatsu, thehusband of Sasaki Ruri, who appears in HitomiKamanaka’s documentary film “Little voices ofFukushima” – asked a question of Yamashita-san. “Would you bring your own grandchildrenhere and let them play in the sand box at adaycare center in Nihonmatsu?” Then heanswered, “Of course I would. I’ll bring them.”I thought, wow. I hoped he wouldn’t actuallybring his grandchildren there (laughter). Afterthat, one after another, people wearing someyellow item asked him questions. In the end, he

was sent off to applause from the whole room.An acquaintance who was a schoolteacherhappened to be sitting next to me. She said,“That was a great talk.” But I still rememberthe last words he said. When many peoplecriticized him, he lost it. He said “I amJapanese. I follow what my country hasdecided.” That was his final remark. Manypeople thought this comment was wonderful. InMarch, while I was sti l l away, havingevacuated, people would call and tell me aboutthis professor who was giving lectures inFukushima, appearing on radio and TV manytimes, and that the local paper wrote up a Q&Aarticle using his words. “Apparently thisscholar is a second-generation hibakusha (被爆者—those exposed to radiation) from Nagasaki,and a doctor who went to Chernobyl.” This ishow he gained trust.

I think more people have come to realize thetruth now, but I think everyone trusted him alot.

Hirano: I see. Because they are all worried,they tend to be drawn to those who say thewords they want to hear.

Mutō: Yes. So I personally find it very hard toforgive them, especially these three people.Extremely unforgivable, and that is why weincluded them in the complaint. However, asexpected, it is extremely difficult to prove thecorrelation between radiation and healthissues.

That’s why I thought that it was necessary tocollect a lot of data in order to be able topursue their crime effectively, but I was alsoafraid the statute of limitations might run out inthe meanwhile. It’s hard to balance thesefactors. I am not sure what I should do.

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The red colored part of Route 6 wasopened to the public. It is only 1.5 km

away from the power plant, and cutthrough the areas designated in beige asuninhabitable for now. (picture provided

by Mutō Ruiko)

Hirano: So if you had the data to prove thecorrelation between health and radiation, youwould want to pursue the responsibility oft h e s e s c h o l a r s o n c e a g a i n . 8

(https://apjjf .org/#_edn8)

Mutō: Yes, yes I do, of course. I really want to.However, this has become an impossible taskfor just us. I hope more complainant groups willform, especially involving those in the medicalprofession, so these three can be indicted.

Hirano: So professionals are reluctant toparticipate in the movement?

Mutō: I wonder. Within Fukushima, it seems itwould be very difficult to defy the PrefecturalMedical University. The Fukushima MedicalAssociation might be developing a sense ofcrisis about radiation exposure. But, I don’treally know how things are in the medicalworld.

Hirano: I feel that the most prominent exampleof official irresponsibility can be seen in thereturn home policy. What do you think?

The poster that declares the road iscomplete and opened to traffic. It says

“connecting thoughts, connecting smiles.”In some areas of Route 6 that are close tothe Fukushima Daiichi, people are advisednot to open the windows while driving. Theposter promotes the completely opposite

view. When I drove on Route 6 thissummer (2016), most cars I encountered

were trucks, vans, and cars used fordecontamination and reconstruction

works. (photo provided by Mutō Ruiko)

Mutō: The return policy started at the end of2011, and the elimination of the relocationzones was among the many things thatoccurred under this policy. For example, Route6 opened last September. At its closest point,this national road is only 1.5 km away from thepower plant. Anyone can pass by there, evenchildren. Some data show that the radiationlevel measures 4-7 mSv even inside the car.

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Hirano: Inside the car.

Mutō: Yes, inside. The levels get higher if youget out of the car.

Hirano: You shouldn’t get out of the car,shouldn’t even open a window.

Mutō: Right. There are barricades all along theexpressway, and police are standing guard insome places. These policemen are all beingexposed to radiation.

This March, the Jōban Expressway wasdeclared complete and opened to traffic. Theydidn’t have this section completed before theaccident. They hadn’t been making progress. Itwas only after the accident that they proceededwith the construction. There’s an electronicbulletin board that says “Today’s RadiationLevel: 5.5 mSv.” It was about 4.9 the other day.I haven’t passed by there yet. I don’t even wantto go on Route 6. Here’s a poster that a friendbrought back from the service area.“Connecting thoughts, connecting smiles,” thetagline says, with children smiling with theirfaces outside the car window. It is horrific, likewartime promotion of using your hands tocatch mere bombs.9 (https://apjjf.org/#_edn9)

Hirano: Wow. Once it reaches this level ofdishonesty and manipulation, it is nothing butpropaganda.

Mutō: It is indeed propaganda. These thingsare actually happening in Fukushima and otheraffected regions.

Area where some police officers andconstruction workers remain active onRoute 6. The radiation level is 5.5 mSv.

(2015). When I drove through theTomioka-machi area near the Fukushima

Daiichi this summer (2016), a bulletinboard indicated 4.8 mSy. (photo provided

by Mutō Ruiko)

Gender and Activism

Hirano: Let me switch to a slightly differenttopic. In your involvement with activism, youhave always placed emphasis on the power ofwomen, pursuing a shape of activism thatmakes use of feminine sensibilities. Could youelaborate on this point?

Mutō: Yes. This sentiment is rather intuitive.When we filed the complaint the first time, weoriginally named 33 people, only one of whomwas a woman, someone from the Ministry ofEducation. I think that it’s mostly men who areresponsible for shaping this nuclear society.For a long time, men were in the position ofnation-building. In a way, those who were onthe frontline of the postwar economic boomwere all male. They were forced into suchcompetitive positions.

Those deeply embedded in that kind of worldhave difficulties shifting their perspectives

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when social values must change. I think thesemen are “worn out,” so to speak.

It’s true that women took part in creating thatsociety as well, but I think women may stillhave some energy left. In that sense, I thinkthey might have a set of values different fromthose of the society we’ve had. It sounds simplewhen put into words. During my involvementwith the earlier anti-nuclear movement inFukushima, or the one at Rokkasho village,there were many moments where I foundmyself working with other women and feelingat ease.10 (https://apjjf.org/#_edn10)

Hirano: Is it because you were able toempathize with each other and share manythings in common?

Mutō: Yes. It was like, “Hey, what do you thinkof this, do you think we should do it?” “Oh thatsounds good.” Teamwork felt so easy in such anatmosphere. Certainly, there was a lot ofpainstaking work to be done, like writing texts.We would do that, but generally, we didn’t haveto discuss much. I really liked how we couldproceed under empathic consensus.

Hirano: What kind of values and sentimentswere you able to share the most? For example,was it something like “The nuclear issue isimmediately relevant to our l ives andlivelihood,” or “What concerns our childrenmust be our highest priority,” or “It isdangerous to l ive with only economicdevelopment in mind?”

Mutō: Well…I can only say how “comfy”(rakuchin/楽チン) it was. The basic line is that,first of all, what’s important are those thingsthat immediately affect our everyday lives.

Hirano: Ah, the feelings and sensibility of theeveryday. Not some grand theories about thestate or unions, but the sensibility of a livingbeing, rooted in the mundane.

Mutō: Yes, well those things might actually

become more directly tied to things like life,the earth, and the universe. So instead of beingcaught up in petty discussions, we could rely onour instinctive senses about what we feel isimportant. I appreciated that kind ofatmosphere.

Hirano: I see. On the contrary, when you workwith, or negotiate with, other men, do you facemoments where things don’t work well? Arethere things you cannot seem to communicatewell or feel uneasy about?

Mutō: Well, not all men are like that, and I tryto work with them (laughter). But there aremoments where it feels more difficult tocommunicate. Demonstrating power relationsfor example. I feel a little sad about that. If theycannot agree on something, they are notsatisfied until they defeat the other side. In asituation where you could just say, no that’s it,they have to keep pressing the point. Also theyalways argue about who does what (laughter).To me, it feels like a waste of energy to argueabout such power dynamics and differentstances.

Hirano: Related to your earlier comment,perhaps men felt as if they had discovered themeaning of life when working hard as a“soldier” for corporations or governmentbureaucracies, especially after the post-wareconomic boom. Such an ethic continues toburden them, even when they are working fororganizations like anti-establishment unions. Asa result, it has become difficult to liberate theirimaginations and social relationships. They’reunable to hold more flexible, multidimensionalvalues or ideas that lead away from commonsense.

Mutō: Right. In a way, I feel sorry for them.For us, our student years (1970s) coincidedwith the Women’s Liberation era. Feminism is amore recent term, but that kind of sentimentalready existed. We breathed that air, althoughwe didn’t quite know what exactly it was about.On the most basic level, a sense of equality and

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the idea that women are fun and strong andsmart, have always been present inside me.

Hirano: Is that something you strongly feltwhen you were young, perhaps during yourcollege years?

Mutō: Perhaps. During college, I shared anapartment with a girl with whom I got along. Atthat time, many girls came to visit us.Everyday, our place was filled with a sense ofsisterhood. I had a boyfriend too, but I found itmore interesting spending time with thosegirls. It was fun.

So everyone in general – and this remains thesame today – women can do household chores,right? Some men are good at it too nowadays;my current partner can do household tasksmuch better than myself. It’s so easy to workwith someone who has those skills. Forexample, even when organizing a simple gettogether, everyone ends up doing just the righttask without having to meticulously decideeach person’s role. “She did the cooking, so I’lldo the cleaning.” Things operate so naturally.

When we did an all-female camp at Rokkashovillage, the men got upset about limiting theparticipants to women (laughter). When we toldthe old guys in the village that it was awomen’s camp, he asked me when were weholding the “real” camp. No, this was the realone (laughter).

Hirano: (laughter). Things may have changednow, but it was such a division of laborbetween male and female that constructed thepost-war society. Men were the breadwinnerswho fought outside and brought back money.Women did the mundane household tasks likelaundry. Men have come a long way withouthaving to deal with “everyday survival” so tospeak, merely living as someone belonging to acompany or organization, they have lost theexperience and knowledge of living a life as asingle individual. For this reason, their valuesand actions are also bound to the so-called

“common sense” of the larger society andorganization.

So when they burst into your activist group,things get more complicated (laughter).

Mutō: It just makes for extra work. We have tospell it all out—ok you do this, you do that(laughter). It’s like, I don’t have time foreducating you (laughter). You know, theseissues should already be behind us after allthese years of anti-nuclear movements, fromdecades before the accident. Yet, there are stilla lot of small things that strike us. For example,even when planning for this one meeting, theymake comments like, “The MC should be awoman.” Huh? “Better have the statement readby a woman, too. Oh, but the opening remarksshould come from a guy” (laughter). These areprobably problems that they’re totally unawareof, that we’ve been aware of all along.

You might think that because teachers enjoyequal pay, sexism is not a very big issue, butthis is not necessarily true. Take the division oflabor, for example. Schoolteachers must takeon administrative tasks, which are divided intodifferent sections, such as research,administration, school lunch and health. Thesections that women chair are always healthand lunch. Always. All the schools were likethat. Also, accounting. Even when there aretwo teachers in the same classroom, it isa lways the female one that does theaccounting. I wondered why it was like that. Ireally thought, wow the education world isn’tany better.

Hirano: So this kind of discriminatorystructure that has supported a systemicdivision of labor has reached the unconsciouslevel. The most troublesome case is when aman who claims to be “progressive” ends upembodying that kind of view (laughter).

Mutō: Yes, yes, yes that is true (laughter).

Hirano: So including all those points, you can

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work with women more casual ly andcommunicate easily with a shared femalesensibility.

Mutō: Yes. But that can also be said about theyounger generation. They may be feelingsomething about our generation’s unconsciousstructure of discrimination. It is reallyimportant for people with different sensibilitiesto try something new in a different form. Itdoesn’t necessarily have to take the form ofcriticism. We can all learn new ways to thinkand act.

Tricks and Traps of Words

Hirano: Allow me to switch topics here. Termslike “Reconstruction”(fukkō/復興) “Reputationaldamage” (fūhyō higai/風評被害) “Hang inthere” (gambare/頑張れ) and “Friendship”(kizuna/絆) – these words were everywhere,especially after the quake, and we still seethem today all over the place. What do youthink about the influence of these words andthe meanings they have come to represent insociety?

Mutō: Right. “Friendship” “Hang in there”“Reconstruction” “Reputational damage.” Forexample, there is one episode aboutreputational damage. I went to Minamata lastmonth and learned that middle school studentsfrom Minamata came to Fukushima. 1 1

(https://apjjf.org/#_edn11) Apparently, thestudents learned about radiation and found outthat the food in Fukushima was safe. However,they discovered, that consumers were notbuying the products at all because of thedamaged reputation. “So, let’s send them toMinamata, and let’s have our school lunch atMinamata using made-in-Fukushima products,”the middle schooler proposed. Such a shockingthing could happen. I could not believe what Iheard. “What?!” I said.

I met a mother who wanted to address thisissue at the PTA. She told me that some adultsin Minamata supported the idea, saying, “What

a wonderful idea by a middle school student.Let’s all do it!” She asked me how she couldargue against them. I said, yes this is aproblem.

Of course, there are some Fukushima productsthat are safe, but there is no need to send themall the way to Minamata where they alreadyhave safe food. Nor would there be a guaranteethat only safe th ings would be sent .“Reputational damage” is meant to refer todamage caused by false rumors stirred upabout something without any basis whatsoever,but in the case of Fukushima, it’s not just somefabricated rumor. Some products actually showhigh levels of radiation contamination. I was soshocked about how this kind of thing couldpossibly happen.

I heard that this school lunch project isundergoing some difficulties right now due tothe extra costs required for air shipment. Ireally hope the project will fall through. Inother news, my friend at Minamata sent me anewspaper article about middle school studentswho baked a dessert using Fukushima productsand won a patisserie contest. “In hopes forhelping out the reconstruction of Fukushima,”they claimed.

Well, words like “Friendship” have cleverlytaken advantage of people’s pure, or not-so-pure, feelings of sympathy. Their willingness tohelp has been exploited.

For me, the term “reconstruction” entails anenvironment where everyone can truly feelsafe, their livelihood fully recovered. This iswhat reconstruction means in a true sense, notsimply bouncing back to old habits like a shape-memory alloy. Reconstruction is a word thathas been constantly redefined. The rhetoric ofhelping others was also used in the sense that,“It’s unfair to let Fukushima deal all by itselfwith contaminated rubble, so other placesshould share the burden.” With regard to thedisparity between regions acceptingcontaminated rubble, the word “Friendship”

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was deliberately misused. I think it isdisgusting. These words can move people’shearts so easily, but they don’t accuratelyreflect the reality. These words carry aconsiderable burden of guilt. These things canbe divisive. Many traps lie in Fukushima, so Itry not to get caught in them.

Hirano: One of those traps which youmentioned is a misplaced morality and sense ofrighteousness: “As a true Japanese, we shoulddo certain things in order to root forFukushima.” You could ca l l th is thecontemporary ideology of national morality.What other kinds of “traps” are there thatprovoke division among the people?

Mutō: Hmm, perhaps things like geographicdivision. They created areas called the SpecificAreas Recommended for Evacuation. Thisproduced disparities such as one side of theroad being so designated while the other sidewasn’t.

The issue of compensation is very big as well.Just yesterday, my friend who works at theagricultural coop visited me. She is thisperfectly moral citizen. She says that people inthe Restricted Areas are receiving tons ofmoney, which they use to play pachinko and eatgood food. Isn’t that a bit unfair since they arethe ones who benefited from the nuclear powerplant in the first place? They lost their housestoo, but still. These financial matters graduallydivide people from each other. For example,those of us living around this area were able toreceive 80,000 yen (laughter). But people inAizu Wakamatsu (会津若松) only received40,000 yen. Dividing the areas incrementallybased on the amount of compensation ordif ferentiat ing places qual i fying forcompensation also becomes one of the trapsthat give rise to antagonism. But complaintsabout unfairness shouldn’t be made toward theindividuals, they should be directed toward thegovernment or TEPCO. If you have alsosuffered damage, you could take legal action.

It’s easy to be mistaken about where to directour accusations.

Hirano: So people feel envious towards thosewho receive more money. You can no longerconverse with those whom you used to know asa friend or neighbor, just because they drew aline between you two.

Mutō: Yes, right right. That also happens.Another factor concerning radiation—this ispartly a problem of those on the receivingend—is the safety myth, the safety propagandathat keeps flowing in. I think everyone more orless feels anxious. Those who have childrenespecially worry about the future of their ownchildren and damage to the health of the futuregeneration. If they are told that it is safe, thenof course they want to believe it, right? Theydon’t want to dwell upon this issue any longerbecause it is troublesome, tiring, andheartbreaking. For them, people who continueto worry become a nuisance – these irritatingpeople who continue to say blasphemous thingsthey would rather not hear.

Those in the primary sector, who are workinghard to get their sales back to normal, feel thatpeople who still worry about radiation areobstructing the path of reconstruction. This isanother way the local population continues tobe divided. If there were a legitimate form ofcompensation, like providing them with land toallow them to restart farming elsewhere,maybe they wouldn’t have to fall into that trap.

On the one hand, there are intentionallycreated divisions. On the other hand, distancesdeepen because of the weakness and insecurityfundamental to human nature, such as feelingsof envy towards people who are doing betterthan you (laughter). These two are easily tiedtogether. The government spreads the “safetymyth” by exploiting this tendency. I believe thatsuch strategically well-planned operationsmight have been inspired by how Chernobylwas handled.

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Hirano: This is rule by division.

Mutō: Yes. I think they are good at thismethod.

I have a friend in Rwanda. I was teaching herJapanese when she was in Japan a bit beforethe civil war. She went back to Rwanda, butshe evacuated to Japan again when the warbroke out. When I asked her about the civilwar, she told me that even though it is oftenunderstood as an ethnic war, that was notreally the case. It was the status systemcreated under Belgian rule.

Those who were originally of a single ethnicitywere divided into three tribes, with thosehaving a certain number of cows designated asone group, those with fewer another group, andthose living in the forests yet a third. Only thehighest group was hired under colonial rule, sowhen Belgium left, a dispute broke out.Hearing this story I realized how institutingdivisions is tightly linked to governance. Ithought, perhaps the same thing happenseverywhere in the world.

Hirano: Those who benefit from the currentadministration are afraid of people turningagainst them in solidarity.

Mutō: Yes.

Hirano: Inevitably, money gets in the way.

Mutō: Yes, it is human nature to succumb tomoney (laughter). Alas, they get caught up in it.

Hirano: Do you feel that kind of pressureduring your involvement with the anti-nuclearmovement and effort to have criminal chargesbrought against TEPCO and governmentofficials. As the trial unfolds, you may facerealities which you don’t want to be remindedof. You may end up shedding light on truthswhich not only the government or TEPCO, butalso the residents of Fukushima, don’t want toknow. Would emotions erupt concerning why

they need to face these difficult realities afterall these years? Facts will come out that aredisagreeable not only to the government andTepco, but to Fukushima residents, too. Is itpossible that emotions will be stirred up, aboutwhy people need to confront such painful truthsat this point?

Mutō: Hmm, that might be true. For one, Iwant those who suffered damage to participate.Since the victims are limited, I am currentlytalking with the surviving families of theFutaba hospital. Fifty elderly patients diedduring and after evacuation. The doctors andnurses of the Hospital could not find evacuationsites equipped with appropriate facilitiesduring the evacuation. The elderly patientsdied of dehydration, stress, and the lack ofintravenous drip after over 14 hours of roadtrip. In many cases however, they tell me theywould like to be left alone. “We’ve beencompensated, there has been a settlement, andwe don’t want to be involved any further.” Forone thing, I’ve wanted the victim-participationmodel to be adopted. Since who counts as avictim has been delimited, we’re now indiscussion with such parties as the bereavedfamilies from Futaba Hospital. Please leave usalone, some of them say. The compensationissue is over, we’ve settled, and we don’t wantto be involved any more.

There’s that, but also the fact that after thedecision to indict, opening the path for a trial,the first attacks came from the mass media.They focused on the fact that of the nine caseswhere a Committee for the Inquest ofProsecution decided in favor of indictment, onlytwo led to a guilty verdict. That’s the messagethey wanted to spread. Even articles written inthe spirit of welcoming the indictment and thetruths that might come out were apt to end upwith such pessimistic observation. Otherarticles were skeptical from start to finish.

Hirano: One of the big goals of the trial is, asyou mentioned, putting an end to the system of

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irresponsibility that is prevalent throughoutthis nation.

Mutō: That hope is definitely present. I don’tknow if we can put an end to it completely, butit is important to call attention to this system ofirresponsibility. I do believe that our action canbe meaningful in leading us closer to the truth,and we sincerely think that the same tragedyshould never be repeated again. In order toachieve that, the victims have our ownresponsibility. My political involvement withthis issue is driven by a sense of obligation.

Since I don’t think that our activities canresolve every problem, we must incorporatedifferent approaches and different movements– we need a variety of complaints and lawsuits.I would be much happier if we receivedmessages of support, “We will take action aswell, let’s fight together.”

Hirano: The first goal is to shed light on theirresponsibility of nuclear policy over time.

Mutō: Yes. Despite the numerous warnings orsuggestions they had received concerningproblems inherent in the Fukushima NPP, theyfailed to take necessary actions. They couldhave, but they didn’t. That caused the currentsituation. Even after the accident occurred, aswe have seen, the irresponsibility continues,right? I doubt that anyone would takeresponsibility if anything happens at SendaiNPP.12 (https://apjjf.org/#_edn12)

Hirano: Yes. For example, if a company causesenvironmental pollution, there will be acompulsory investigation in which thecorporation’s legal responsibility will beinvestigated. Yet for some reason, it seems as ifthe nuclear industry functions mysteriouslyoutside legal obligations.

Mutō: Right. That may be the power of“national policy,” but we can’t let them getaway with it, can we? (laughter)

Hirano: As long as you claim to be a societyunder the rule of law, one who commits a crimemust be tried. You are demanding what’s onlycommonsense, that they adhere to the law. But,both the nuclear power accident and the stateof war expose the aporia wherein the law thatis created by the state, can also be suspendedin circumstances deemed exceptional by thatstate. “National policy” is a magic word thatcan normalize such an exceptional state. Theperpetrators do not get tried and the victimsare abandoned.

Mutō: Yes, that’s right. The law looks like it’smeant to apply to all people, but I’ve come tofeel from my experience that it’s deliberatelymanipulated. But if you’re going to say that thisis a country governed by the rule of law, andthat this is a democratic society, then if, at thevery least, people aren’t held responsible forwhat they’ve done, there’s no way to protecthuman rights. I think it’s important to hang onto the consciousness that states of exceptionshouldn’t be allowed.

I also think that it is not enough to merelypursue the legal responsibility of TEPCO or thegovernment. I think each one of us wasresponsible. As discussed earlier, we haveconveniently enjoyed our civilized society. Wedidn’t try to imagine what was behind theelectric outlet. We are guilty of lack ofimagination.

Hirano: You have ins is ted upon theimpossibility of reconstruction in a true sense.I f th is is the case, then what k ind ofcompensation do you believe to be appropriatefor Fukushima residents? For example, do youthink the government should have secured newland and homes for people who live inFukushima (or other people who live in placeswith high radiation areas like Gunma, Tochigi,Ibaraki, Miyagi)? Should TEPCO havedistributed resources in order to supportpeople’s new lives?

Mutō: I think new land and housing should

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have been provided. Financial assistance forrelocation should also have been provided.

The arbitrary return policy, legislated only toput an easy end to the accident while keepingthe compensation price cheap, imposed a falsesense of safety on people and unnecessarilyexposed them to radiation. In other words, thegovernment is telling them to give up and putup wi th the s i tuat ion . The fu ture i sunpredictable due to their inconsistentattitude.

Hirano: The other day, when the committee forthe inquest of prosecution cal led forindictment, you had a press conference underthe banner of “citizens’ justice.”

Mutō holds the banner of “citizens’justice.”

Mutō: (laughter) In fact, I don’t really care forthe word “justice.” (laughter) Mostly, it’s notused in a good sense, is it? It sounds like self-legitimation. Of course, it was meant to be awonderful word. I wasn’t crazy about it, buteverybody else was saying this was the way togo, so I just said, all right.

Hirano: But the way it came through on thescreen, it felt good. They’re using the word“justice” in the way it should be used .... Goodfor them for talking about the issue in this way,

I thought. The state just speaks using its ownlogic, right? The logic of the state and the logicof citizens, the way they look at things or theway things look to them—they’re totallydifferent, I think. And you were talking aboutthat clearly as a matter of justice. That’s whatmade me feel good, watching the pressconference.

Mutō: Is that right? (laughter) I felt it wasembarrassing. (laughter) But, if you think howcitizens decided that indictment wasappropriate where the prosecutors had not, youbegin to see the difference, the gap betweenthem. You referred to the difference betweenhow the state sees things and how citizens seethem, and I think that’s exactly right. What’scommonsensical for me isn’t so for the state,and the opposite might be true, too. I have tothink that it’s not good to have this muchdiscrepancy between the two.

Hirano: The government’s reasoning comesthrough clearly from the major media outlets,but citizens do not have the chance to retort,“No, we don’t see it that way,” or, “Your logicto me seems like a form of violence.” I believethere should be more space where theseclashing views can be aired in public, on equalfooting, so to speak.

Mutō: Yes. With regard to Fukushima, therehave been dozens of negotiations with thegovernment in many places. Yet, we really can’thold an actual conversation with them, perhapsbecause government spokespeople areespecially cautious on such occasions. We justend up talking past each other. In response toour questions, they say something that iscompletely irrelevant.

Do you know what they started doing recently?They send officials who are from Fukushima.

And then, before the negotiation begins, theysay things like, “My family grave is also inNihonmatsu,” “It has only been three monthssince I joined the Ministry of Environment, I’m

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from Fukushima.” They let some 23-year-old dothis kind of job. They do disgusting things likethat.

Hirano: Well, that is also a form of division.They can’t say no to their boss either since theystarted working there just recently.

Mutō: Yes. But I think that they must also feela great deal of sadness facing other peoplefrom Fukushima. I think it is kind of disgusting.

Practicing Non-violence: Guerrilla Theater,Greenham Common, Rokkasho Village

Hirano: Could you talk a little about non-violence? Why do you place non-violence at thecore of your activism?

Mutō: Let’s see. I first learned about theconcept of “non-violent direct action” when aperson called Agi Yukio, who wrote a book –what was the title – something about non-violence and direct action (note: Hiboryokutore-ningu: Shakai wo jibun wo hiraku tameni,1984) – held a workshop about non-violencetraining. This was about 30 years ago, rightwhen we were doing the movement opposingFukushima plants 2 and 3 in 1988. InYokohama, there was a group called the “hi-boryokudan,” the non-violence gang. Thesepeople from the non-violence gang were theinstructors for our non-violence trainingsession.

I was wondering what it was all about when Iwent. First, we did an icebreaker to get toknow each other. Then they taught us about“guerilla theater.” In guerilla theater, weproduce a short skit, act it out in the middle ofthe street, and leave the scene right away.

There is a place called the “Bakugenjin village”which is like a hippie commune in Kawauchivillage – my friends are there – and we put thisguerilla theater into practice when we did aworkshop retreat there. The village is close toTomioka-machi, where they have Fukushiima

2-3. There was a service center for TEPCO, sortof like a building to promote nuclear powerplants. It is shaped like a beautiful castle, andchildren would go and learn about the controlrod inside a nuclear reactor or a whole-bodycounter – they even had things like that backthen, a device that measures your internalradioactive level. We decided to storm into thatfacility singing anti-nuclear songs, perform ashort skit, and run out. That was the plan.

Hirano: Oh I see, guerilla. In recent years theycall it flash mob (laughter)

Mutō: So we actually went and did the skit.And then we came back. That was so fun(laughter). Afterwards, when I participated inthe Rokkasho village movement, a lady namedKondo Kazuko showed a documentary filmabout a peace camp at a US military basecalled Greenham Common in the UK, wherewomen camped for 19 years. Eventually theGreenham Common base closed down.13

(https://apjjf.org/#_edn13) It was a film calledCarry Greenham Home. It was so interesting,how all women surrounded the base.

The women made their case through non-violent action. I was curious how they actuallymade it work. There’s a gate at the base thatlocks protesters out. When the women protest,the military shuts the gate. The activiststhought, if they’re going to close the doors, whynot try locking it? So they padlocked the gatefrom outside while the guards were not looking.In the morning, the guards were dumbfoundedto find out the gate wouldn’t open, and try tocut the padlock open but to no avail. Soeventually, they end up breaking down thegate. In an ironic turn of events, theythemselves end up destroying the very gatesthat had prevented the protestors from comingin.

It was fascinating to watch. I found it intriguingto learn that non-violence does not simplyindicate the absence of violent methods.Instead, it uses your ideas, body, and a sense of

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humor.

I’m not very good at public speaking, really,and I’m actually quite bad at writing as well. Idon’t want to write or speak if I don’t need to.With “non-violent direct action,” you canbecome part of the action just by quietly beingthere. Your presence itself becomes a form ofresistance. I thought that was great.

When we did the women’s camp at Rokkashovillage, we decided to take non-violent directionaction. We were going to lie on the ground andstop the trucks carrying radioactive materials.During the planning, I realized that non-violentaction is not just one act, but includes a lot ofelements like building relations with yourfriends and rethinking your lifestyle. At thecamp, we made time to listen to each other’spersonal histories and share our sufferings.Together we made a song for signaling to eachother and we went to the beach to practice it.Everyday, we would cook food, eat, and cleanup as a group while dividing the labor. This wasreally fun. It was the right kind of activity forme.

Also, because we chose direct action, therewere limits to what we could do. We were onlyable to stop the trucks for 50 minutes. But thenagain, we did stop them for 50 minutes, andthat gave us a sense of accomplishment. It wasmeaningful to realize that we were notcompletely powerless, and that we could takeaction in order to change the situation,however slightly.

Of course, this is not enough. Nothing can besolved just by doing this kind of thing. You havenon-violent direct action, you have legalbattles, you have protests and negotiations withthe government, which might then lead topolicy recommendations or elections resultingin representatives who’ll speak up. You need avariety of such activities. I think it’s good if weeach participate in whatever we’re good at.

Hirano: I see. Listening to your story, I feel

like you know how to enjoy life and cherish itsmoments. I mean, it must be hard standing atthe frontlines and fighting like this. Verydifficult. As you said earlier, you’ll be crushed ifanger is your main driving source, and fearwould not sustain you for very long. Even inthat condition, you manage to enjoy life to thefullest and carefully build human relationship,always with a sense of humor. You are perhapsa kind of person who can do that naturally andflexibly.

Mutō: (laughter)

Hirano: Do you think that kind of attitude isimportant?

Mutō: Ah, yes, I do.

Hirano: For activism too.

Mutō: Yes, it’s too hard otherwise. It’s a lot ofwork (laughter). I think that maybe humans, nomatter what the situation, can still appreciate amoment of beauty, fun, and delicious food. Inwhatever hardship you may be facing, you’llprobably still get hungry, too. I want to createsomething fun and beautiful like that.

Right after the nuclear accident, I wascompletely devastated. I like music, I can’t playany instrument but I really love it. Especially, Ilike the sound of the guitar. It has always beenmy morning routine to choose one CD andlisten to it while drinking coffee. But after theaccident, I wasn’t able to do that at all. I didn’tfeel like listening to music. I just couldn’t.

Hirano: How long did that condition continue?

Mutō: About a year and a half to two years.

Hirano: That long.

Mutō: Yes, it was very hard. I couldn’t open upmy heart, perhaps. But slowly I was able tolisten again. There was a time when LeeJeongmi, a zainichi Korean singer, came to

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Fukushima and sang a song for all the womenin Fukushima. I think that might have been theturning point. Gradually, I felt like listening tomusic once more.

I think that things like art and sensibility arevery important to political activism. Thisincludes, for example, singing together witheveryone, thinking about what clothes to wear,or what colorful protest signs to make for thedemonstration.

Back when I was in Rokkasho village, there wasa ship that showed up with high-levelradioactive waste. There was a long fence bythe port, and we tied colorful ribbons there.Also, right outside the nuclear fuel cycle at thereprocessing plant in Rokkasho village, there isa triple-layered wall. There is a fence on theoutside, then a lot of cement sticks in themiddle, then another fence inside. In that spacein the middle, we threw in balls of dirt withflower seeds in them. When we went there thefollowing year, flowers were blooming. Don’tyou think that is kind of nice?

Hirano: That’s very nice.

Mutō: I don’t know if I can call it “art,” but Ithink these kinds of things are quite important.

Hirano: Yes. It sends out a message. It’s quiteimpressive that you could let flowers bloom at aplace like that. You speak directly to people’shearts and point out the issue from its verycore.

Mutō: Yes. For the record, it wasn’t me whocame up with this idea. Someone else had theidea and we all decided to do it. I thought itwas quite wonderful.

But after the nuclear accident actuallyoccurred, we were no longer able to take directaction at the actual site of Fukushima NPP.Sometimes we would do it at Koriyama orFukushima, but we still wear masks. We all riskour own health to protest. We’re always

wondering if we should be going that far.

In the fa l l o f 2011 when 100 womensurrounded the police station in Tokyo, we laterfound out that the radiation level was in factquite high around there as well. But we allknitted a rope with colorful yarns andsurrounded the area. I went around thepremise, dancing. I want to continue engagingin those activities.

Hirano: You are saying that in Fukushima, it isdifficult to carry out those fun activities whereyou speak to people’s emotions and expressyour thoughts?

Mutō: Yes. It’s hard to do it inside Fukushima.The other day, as we saw in the picturese a r l i e r , w e d i d a H i d a n r e n(http://hidanren.blogspot.com/) (Gempatsu JikoHigaisha Dantai Renrakukai, or the LiaisonCouncil of Victims of the Nuclear Disaster)protest. Most of the participants were elderlypeople, demonstrating in sweltering weather,38.6 degrees Celsius. I was so afraid they weregoing to collapse. The demonstration lastedabout 40 minutes, but I thought to myself, wow,we are really putting our lives on the line(laughter).

Hidanren march. (photo provided by MutōRuiko)

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Why Kirara?

Hirano: (laughter). I also want to ask aboutKirara, your home that was also a café until3.11. Why and how did this begin?

Kirara in winter (photo provided by MutōRuiko)

Mutō: I used to work at a school, but before Istarted up Kirara, I had many opportunities toreflect upon my own life in the course of theanti-nuke movement. As I questioned mylifestyle, I wanted to start cultivatingmountainside land.

I went to a university called Wako University,in the age of the hippie movement. There was acountercultural trend to resist the society ofconvenience. I was only an observer at thattime, but after I joined the anti-nuclearmovement, I met people who were trying toconserve energy, using as little electricity aspossible, and build their own house. It reallymade me want to live like that.

There was a mountain I inherited when myfather passed away. It was just a wild mountainwith nothing, but my partner and I decided tocultivate it. We started out with one mattockand slowly opened up a small plot of land. Webuilt a lodge there. I wanted to live therewithout bringing many unnecessary things

from outside, so we only had a lamp and awood stove. We didn’t have electricity.

We lived like that for a few years, and it wasjust incredibly interesting to me. Soon, I didn’twant to continue teaching at school. Well, otherthings happened, and I eventually decided toquit my job. I had to think about what I wasgoing to do after that, so I started looking forwork I could do at home. Perhaps a café or ashop, I thought. So I used the land cultivated atthe bottom of the mountain and built thestructure for Kirara using my retirementmoney. That’s how it happened.

I wanted to use that space to hold study eventsabout the energy problem, or set up aninformation corner about the nuclear powerplant. I also wanted to plan live music eventsthat would include discussions about moderntechnology and civilization. I made Kirara inorder to create a space to transmit that kind ofinformation.

Hirano: I see. Could you talk a little about yourview of modern civilization?

Mutō: (laughter) I can’t really talk aboutmodern civilization, but when I first learnedabout the existence of a TV, it was – how oldwas I – about when I was in elementary school,or sometime before that. My point is, when Iwas little, I didn’t have a TV or a refrigerator ora washing machine.

I’m 62 years old right now, but my lifestylechanged drastically within the past 60 years. Ithas really become convenient. But I wonderabout the heat in summer, whether summerused to be this hot in the past. Of course we didfeel hot since we didn’t have an air conditioner,but summer wasn’t as uncomfortably hot asright now.

In the meantime, many things were inventedlike a drier to dry your hair, or a pot thatconstantly provides hot water. Consumption ofelectricity thus greatly increased. People kept

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buying those devices, thinking they wereconvenient, but I started wondering if we werebuying things that we really wanted. Suchconsumerism is related to things like how the“trending color” of a decade from now hasalready been decided, or the “10 principles ofconsumption” made by Dentsu (電通). I thinkthe bullet train is convenient, but I wonder ifwe really need the “linear” (magnetic-levitation) cars. We used to be able to have agood time traveling without the bullet train, aslong as we could take the time. But once youstart using it, there is no going back. You usethe extra time you saved on something else.People become busier and busier.

There is a picture book called “The LittleHouse” (by V i rg in ia Lee Bur ton) . 1 4

(https://apjjf.org/#_edn14) It was the firstpicture book we had in my house – someonehad given it to my older sister as a gift. It is astory about a little house in the countrysidethat suffers the constant transformation of itssurroundings. In the end, the little house istaken away to the countryside once again andlives happily ever after. But when you thinkabout it, that story leaves behind the issues ofthe city. The little house went back, but the cityjust keeps on growing like that? After I grewup, I realized that that part hasn’t been solvedin that story.

Hirano: I see, that’s true. I used to read thatbook all the time to my daughter when she wasyounger. The little house gets to move back tothe countryside and regain its happiness, but Inever thought about how it leaves behind theissue of the city. That’s a new perspective toreading that book. It becomes all the more realwhen you bring in the issue of the nuclearpower plant into the picture, doesn’t it?

Mutō: Yes, yes.

Hirano: In order to support the materialprosperity of the booming city, you need tobuild the nuclear power plant next to the littlehouse that should have been happy in the

countryside.

Mutō: Yes. I really identified with the story asmy own. In the countryside I tried to build anideal life, using natural energy like solar power,eating food from the mountains, farming on ourown. The life I had was supposed to be as faraway as possible from nuclear energy, while inreality, it was only 45km away. It destroyedeverything about the way of life I had built. Youcan clearly see that story from the frameworkof the picture book.

Hirano: I see. You could get a little cynical andsay that there is no longer a place where thelittle house can take refuge. No matter whereyou evacuate, there is no place on earth that iscompletely free of contamination. Modernitygave birth to that kind of civilization.

Mutō: Right. This really isn’t a problem ofFukushima. It is an issue for each living personon the face of the earth. I want people to knowabout the actuality of damage in Fukushima. Ibelieve there is much to be learned from it,whether about the environment, the structureof discrimination prevailing in society, or whathappens in people’s minds.

Since there are so many issues embedded inthis problem, we as a species must learn manythings from it. Especially with this nuclearaccident, Chernobyl as well, we involved thelives of so many non-human species. I thinkthat is a cr ime, or rather , a mass ivecatastrophe.

Hirano: Yes. One of the reasons I visited Iitatevillage two years ago was to talk to farmerswho could not sacrifice their horses or cowsbecause they were part of the family.1 5

(https://apjjf.org/#_edn15) Animals can’texpress themselves. All they can do is get sickfrom radiation and die. If they survive, thegovernment will order them slaughtered. Thedairy farmers were suffering. They also saidthat weird things were happening with wildanimals they encountered.

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Mutō: Yes. From their point of view, I’m sure itwas a disaster out of nowhere. The wild boarsmust have thought, what in the world is this?(laughter)

Hirano: Right, just for human desire for moreprofit and convenience of life.

Mutō: I think they would wonder why theirspecies had to suffer like this (laughter). Theymight not, but this is something we humansmust think, us the perpetrators.

Hirano: Thank you very much for your time.

I would like to thank Ms. Mutō Ruiko foragreeing to do this interview. My sincerethanks extend to Norma Field who kindlyreviewed and edited the interview and wrotethe excellent introductory essay. Akiko Ansonand Ryoko Nishijima made possible thepublication of the interview by transcribing ortranslating it. I am grateful to both of them.

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Norma Field’s Introduction to this interview (https://apjjf.org/2016/17/Field.html)

Full transcription of the interview in Japanese(https://apjjf.org/data/4954-interview-rev.docx)

Katsuya Hirano is Associate Professor of History, UCLA. He is the author of The Politics ofDialogic Imagination: Power and Popular Culture in Early Modern Japan (U of Chicago Press).He has published numerous articles and book chapters on early modern Japan, thecolonization of Hokkaidō, settler colonialism, cultural studies, and critical theory, including“The Politics of Colonial Translation: On the Narrative of the Ainu as a ‘Vanishing Ethnicity’”(https://apjjf.org/-Katsuya-HIRANO/3013/article.html). You can also find the series ofinterviews related to the Fukushima nuclear disaster in the Asia-Pacific Journal, a projectwhich Hirano started in 2013. He can be reached at hirano@history.ucla.edu.

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Ryoko Nishijima is a PhD candidate in Anthropology at UCLA.

Notes1 The title was taken from my email correspondence with Mutō of August 27th, 2015. She goeson to say, “it deepens our anger and sadness, and then allows them to mature; only after thatwill the perspective for a future be born, I believe.” She repeats this point in the interview.2 For more updated information about the legal case, see Norma Field, “To Despair Properly(https://apjjf.org/2016/17/Field.html).”3 Uno moved to Fukushima in 1999. She began to participate in the Fukushima network forthe abolition of nuclear power plants in 2010. She became the chairperson of the associationfor the abolition of nuclear power plants, which was founded to demand the termination ofnuclear reactors that were in operation for 40 years in Fukushima. Immediately after 3.11,she and her family evacuated from Fukushima, first moving to Kyushu and then settling inKyoto. She continues to be active in various anti-nuclear and 3.11 related movements,working together with Mutō. She authored Mewo Korashimasho, Mienai Hōshanō ni (Let’slook closely, the invisible radiation). She and Nakasatomi Satomi, her spouse and aconstitutional scholar, organizes a monthly study group at a café in Shintanabe, Kyoto, withlocals and evacuees from Fukushima to share experiences and knowledge.4 The Chernobyl NPP accident of 1986 led to the formation of the environmental rightsmovement and development of citizens’ rights to environmental information, which eventuallyresulted in laws of Ukraine, Belarus and Russia in the 1990s. Based on these laws, some legalscholars argue for the development of national and international law that will further ensureenvironmental human rights and processes of rehabilitation of ecological systems. In the caseof Fukushima Daiichi, under the existing Abe government, debates leading to the installationof such laws protecting human and environmental rights have been absent.5 In July 2011, Hirose Takashi, a writer, and Akagi Shōjirō filed a criminal complaint againstTepco executives who underestimated the seriousness of the nuclear disaster and mislead thepublic, and the scientists who denied any correlation between the nuclear disaster andillnesses such as thyroid cancer and heart attack by spreading the myth about thenonexistence of the danger of radioactive exposure. Hirose and Akagi also insisted that thedisaster caused many deaths based on the fact that there were some farmers who took theirlives out of despair and a number of elderly patients who lost their lives during the evacuationfrom hospitals. They expressed their concerns about the detrimental effects of radioactiveexposure on Fukushima children who had been misled by Tepco and nuclear scientistsworking for the company and the government to remain for several months in areas heavilyaffected by radiation from Fukushima Daiichi after March 11.6 For Mutō’s whole speech, see speech(https://m.facebook.com/notes/embrace-transition/ruiko-mutos-speech-at-the-goodbye-genpatsu-demonstration-of-september-19-transla/271616939526959/) and the youtube video(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=559qQJz2bmk).7 As a radiation risk management adviser appointed by Fukushima prefecture after March 11,Yamashita lectured numerous times on radiation mainly in the prefecture.　He claimed that

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radiation exposure of 100 mSv/yr was safe by arguing that when people were exposed toradiation does of 100mSV or more, the possibility of getting cancer increased only to one inten-thousand people. He also reiterated that the radiation dose was equivalent to that ofreceiving 10 times the dose of one CT scan. Since CT scans are used for medical diagnosis ona regular basis, he argued, there is no danger involved in the Fukushima case. He madehimself infamous and a focus of public criticism by stating that radiation affects only thosewho are concerned about its effects, but “not those who live with smiles”; adding that thosewho like to drink are rarely affected by radiation. He continues to serve as the advisor atFukushima Medical University to this day.8 Concerned scientists such as Koide Hiroaki have been advocating the necessity of carryingout thorough epidemiological studies. But the existing government under the Abeadministration and TEPCO have shown no interest in conducting or sponsoring such research.9 In 1941, Nippon Polydor released a song called “bakudan kurai wa tede ukeyo” (use yourhands to catch mere bombs), state propaganda contributed by Eguchi Yoshi (music) andFujita Masato (lyrics).10 10 (https://apjjf.org/#_ednref10) Rokkasho (六ヶ所村) is a village(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_villages_in_Japan) in Kamikita District(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kamikita_District,_Aomori) of northeastern Aomori Prefecture(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aomori_Prefecture) in the Tōhoku region(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T%C5%8Dhoku_region) of northern Japan(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japan). As of September 2015, the village had an estimatedpopulation (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Population) of 10,726. Since the 1970s villagers ofRokkasho and environmentalists opposed plans to operate Japan's first large commercialplutonium plant in the village by focusing on the threat of a large-scale release ofradioactivity (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radioactivity). The facility in full operation isdesigned to separate as much as 8 tons of plutonium each year from spent reactor fuel fromJapan's domestic nuclear reactors. As of 2006 Japan owned approximately 45 tons ofseparated plutonium. Construction and testing of the facility were completed in 2013, and thesite was intended to begin operating in October 2013; however this was delayed by newsafety regulations. In December 2013 JNFL announced the plant would be ready for operationin October 2014. In 2015, the start of the reprocessing plant was postponed again, this timeto as late as September 2018. Since 1993 US$ 20 billion has been invested in the project,nearly triple the original estimate. A 2011 estimate put the cost at US$27.5 billion.Consumers Union of Japan (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Consumers_Union_of_Japan)together with 596 organizations and groups participated in a parade on 27 January 2008 incentral Tokyo opposing the Rokkasho Reprocessing Plant. Over 810,000 signatures werecollected and handed in to the government on 28 January 2008. Representatives of theprotesters, which include fishery associations, consumer cooperatives and surfer groups,handed the petition to the Cabinet Office and the Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ministry_of_Economy,_Trade_and_Industry).11 Minamata disease was first discovered in Minamata(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minamata,_Kumamoto) city in Kumamoto prefecture(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kumamoto_prefecture), Japan(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japan), in 1956. It was caused by the release of methylmercury(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Methylmercury) in the industrial wastewater

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(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wastewater) from the Chisso Corporation(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chisso)'s chemical factory, which continued from 1932 to 1968.This highly toxic (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toxic) chemical bioaccumulated(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bioaccumulation) in shellfish and fish in Minamata Bay(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minamata_Bay) and the Shiranui Sea(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shiranui_Sea), which, when eaten by the local populace,resulted in mercury poisoning. While cat, dog, pig, and human deaths continued for 36 years,the government and company did little to prevent the pollution. The animal effects weresevere enough in cats that they came to be named as having "dancing cat fever". As of March2001, 2,265 victims had been officially recognized as having Minamata disease (1,784 ofwhom had died) and over 10,000 had received financial compensation from Chisso. By 2004,Chisso Corporation had paid $86 million in compensation, and in the same year was orderedto clean up its contamination. On March 29, 2010, a settlement was reached to compensateas-yet uncertified victims12 The Sendai Nuclear Power Plant is located in the city of Satsumasendai(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Satsumasendai,_Kagoshima) in Kagoshima Prefecture(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kagoshima_Prefecture). The Kyūshū Electric Power Company(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ky%C5%ABsh%C5%AB_Electric_Power_Company) owns andoperates it. The plant, like all other nuclear power plants in Japan, suspended operation sincethe nationwide shutdown in the wake of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fukushima_Daiichi_nuclear_disaster) in 2011. However, despitenation-wide protests, it was the first plant to be restarted on August 11, 2015.13 Greenham Common Women's Peace Camp was a peace camp(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peace_camp) established to protest siting of nuclear weapons atRAF Greenham Common (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RAF_Greenham_Common) inBerkshire, England. The camp began in September 1981 after a Welsh(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wales) group, Women for Life on Earth, arrived at Greenham toprotest against the decision of the British government to allow cruise missiles(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cruise_missile) to be based there. The first blockade of the baseoccurred in May 1982 with 250 women protesting, during which 34 arrests were made. Thecamp was active for 19 years and disbanded in 2000.14 The Little House, by Virginia Lee Burton, is a story about a Little House that originally livedin the country, but as the years go by the countryside transforms into an urban city. What wasonce green grass and natural surroundings turned into large skyscrapers and loud trainstations. The Little House grew shabbier and shabbier with each passing day. Soon enough,the Little House disliked living in a developing city, and “returned home” to the countryside.15 Iitate is located outside the nominal 30 kilometres (19 miles) radiation exclusion zone of theFukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fukushima_Daiichi_nuclear_power_plant). The Japanesegovernment initially announced that it was safe for the residents to remain in the village afterthe Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fukushima_Daiichi_nuclear_disaster) on 30 March 2011. Manypeople in the nearby towns and villages in the radiation exclusion zone evacuated to Iitata,being misled to believe in the area’s safety. However, as a result of wind patterns followingthe disaster, according to the International Atomic Energy Agency

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(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Atomic_Energy_Agency), its operational criteriafor evacuation were exceeded in Iitate. On 22 April 2011, a more than a month later, theentire population (over 6,000 people) of the village was ordered to evacuate by thegovernment. In early June about 1,500 residents still remained, but by August only about 120residents, mostly elderly, continued to live there. In 2012, according to an official survey,some 1,743 former residents began experiencing growing frustration and instability due tothe nuclear crisis and an inability to return to the lives they had lived before the disaster. TheIitate case represents many tragic cases in which Fukushima residents were not only forcedto move several times but also exposed to radiation for a substantial period of time as a resultof the Japanese government’s utter lack of evacuation planning and Tepco’s cover-up of vitalinformation about the scale of the crisis. Many children and their parents who are the victimsof radioactive exposure continue to live with anxiety and fear. Kamanaka Hitomi’sdocumentary “Little Voices from Fukushima” (2015) follows their stories.