Globalization and Cultural Diversity 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Lecture at Centre for Bhutan Studies 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Octover 21, 2003 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　by Katsusuke Miyauchi 　　　I am deeply honored to have the opportunity to speak to you today. I have long felt a powerful pull to Bhutan because of its unique ability to hold into its own culture in this homogenizing world. I have been to India six times, but never had the chance to come to Bhutan. My long-awaited dream has come true. 　　　Though I have read a number of books about Bhutan, I stand in front of you today as someone who knows virtually nothing about the country. So I must begin with apologies for my impertinence. 　　　Though Bhutan and Japan are geographically far apart, but certain similarities between the two cultures strike me on an intuitive level. Nothing about my face, for example, distinguishes it from the face of a Bhutanese. The, the traditional Japanese kimono, looks exactly like garments the Bhutanese wear. Moreover, both are Buddhist countries. 　　　The numbers even sound similar. Here are the numbers from one to ten in Japanese. Ichi, ni, san, shi, go, roku, shichi, hachi, kyu, ju. What do you think? Are they not similar to the corresponding Bhutanese numbers? Numbers are basic to language. Do we not share a cultural commonality on a basic level? 　　　Certainly, I must acknowledge that Bhutan and Japan have pursued entirely different paths for several hundred years. 　　　Let me now offer a brief summary of Japanese history. Japan was once as closed to the world as Bhutan is today. What happened to Japan after it opened its borders? That information might be of use to your country. Please listen to Japan’s history as an example of the course traveled by a particular country. 　　　For more than 200 years, Japan isolated itself from the world, thereby cutting itself off from world history. The isolation ended in 1853, exactly 150 years ago. A U.S. fleet sailed to Japan and demanded that the country open to the world. Unable to muster a military response to the pressure applied, Japan opened-grudgingly. That was the beginning of our modern history. 　　　The fear-induced compulsion to open their doors was humiliating to the Japanese people. A psychoanalyst named Shu Kishida likened Japan’s forced opening by the U.S. fleet to “a kind of rape.” That sense of humiliation cast a dark, if unconscious, shadow over the Japanese people. Japan’s twisted history in modern times has its origin in this emotion. 　　　Once open to the world, Japan maneuvered a sharp turn and accelerated into a headlong rush toward modernization. It overhauled its educational system and marshaled its resources for industrialization. The prevailing national slogan during that period was “wealth and military strength.” Japan aimed to become a rich nation with a strong military. Aligning its shoulders with the major Western powers, it set about colonizing other Asian countries. 　　　Japan insisted that its intention was to those countries from Western rule to create a “Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere.” The slogan “Asia is one” reinforced this interpretation. Of course, this ostensible goal was merely cover for an invasion that imposed great hardship on the people of Asia and resulted in countless deaths. However, many Japanese believed that the slogan was sincere. 　　　Japan plunged into World War II. Although there was no rational basis for believing it could defeat superpower United States, Japan hit Pearl Harbor with a surprise attack. Why the grievous miscalculation? I see it as stemming from a longing to shake off the humiliation of the coerced opening in 1853 by the U.S. fleet. This clannish drive set modern Japan into motion. The “yellow-skinned” Japanese wanted a victory over Western people. 　　　The war dragged on and on. The peoples of Asia were dragged in, at a cost of the lives of many. The exact number is unknown, but 20 million and 30 million have been estimated. The slogan “Asia is one” was a fraud. 　　　After atomic bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan’s war came to an end. Roughly 200,000 people fell victim to the tremendous flash and the heat of the mushroom cloud. Tokyo, Osaka, and many other cities around Japan crumbled into vast stretches of burnt plain. 　　　Out of those burnt ruins, Japan stood up again, now under U.S. occupation. In 1946, a new constitution was issued. The constitution, entirely shaped by U.S. intentions, contains a unique provision in Article 9. I quote: 　　　Aspiring sincerely to an international peace based on justice and order, the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settling international disputes. 　　　This is Article 9 under the Constitution. It clearly declares that Japan will not wage war. During the 58 years between then and now, Japan has neither warred with another country nor exported weapons. 　　　Discussing the past 58 years is a thorny matter, but let me try to sum them up. Having renounced military force, Japan put all its energy into exporting ships, steel, radios, televisions, and other electrical goods, autos, and more. It flung every ounce of energy into developing its economy. 　　　I believe you know that this effort turned Japan into an economic giant with the second highest GNP in the world. During the 1980s, the slogan “Japan as number one” was touted; many believed that Japan was on the verge of overtaking the U.S. The U.S. auto industry, for example, was severely crippled by the flood of Japanese autos. I lived in New York during those years, and U.S. newspapers and magazines were putting special reports on Japan on a daily or monthly basis. Japan’s economic success was even being termed “revenge.” 　　　Arrogance grew among the Japanese during that period, in tandem with a smug confidence that Japan would topple the U.S. as the world’s most powerful country. Naturally, lurking behind these sentiments was an emotional conflict seeded during the forced opening in 1853, and reinforced later by the atomic bombing. 　　　However, Japan’s sojourn at the top of the economic heap was not long-lived. At the end of the 80s, stock prices began to drop and Japan’s economy teetered toward collapse. Now we are mired in prolonged recession-while still the world’s number two economic power. 　　　It’s fair to say that there are no starving people in Japan these days. Anyone can find some sort of job unless he or she is simply too lazy to try. Delicious foods from around the world are flown into Japan daily and artfully displayed in Japanese department stores and supermarkets. We import huge quantities of fish from Alaska, India, and Northern Europe. Sausages from Italy, fruit from the U.S., goose liver from France, caviar from Russia, shrimp from Vietnam. Needless to say, we don’t lack material goods. 　　　Japan has no caste or class system. No caste or class restrictions bar any two people from loving or marrying. We enjoy freedom of speech. No one is arrested and sent to prison for criticizing the government or the prime minister. We may apply for whatever job we choose. We have the freedom to become politicians, company presidents, priests, lawyers, comedians, university professors, dancers, doctors, professional athletes. Our choices have opened up infinitely. 　　　Social welfare is quite adequate. Working persons pay a percentage of wages or salary to the government, which compensates us with a pension when we get old. Japan’s elderly are now living off those pensions. When we get sick, we can buy medical care cheaply. Because I lived for years in the U.S., I can assure you that social security and medical insurance benefits are far more advanced in Japan. If I keep on in this vein, I’ll have you thinking that Japan is some kind of utopia. 　　　But now I need to move to the darker aspects of Japan. Japan’s sweeping industrialization has left a trail of environmental destruction that pervades and contaminates the country. In a place called “Minamata,” factory-discharged mercury polluted the sea and contaminated the fish. People who ate the fish suffered mercury poisoning and suffer partial paralysis decades later. At a place called “Isahaya,” landfill construction virtually wiped out all the seaweed and shellfish in a large harbor. You can find similar stories all around Japan. 　　　If you look down upon Tokyo Harbor from the air, the water looks dark. The water in most of Japan’s rivers is polluted, undrinkable.Auto exhaust defiles the air of the cities. 　　　Human relations have deteriorated as well. Our dependence on imported foods is steadily decimating farming households, which are now down to less than 10% of the population. The shortage of women in farming villages who are willing to stay and marry the men is alarming. The youth prefer to gravitate to the cities. The sense of community in rural areas is collapsing. 　　　Family structure is also changing. Cities with exploding populations grapple with severe housing shortages, and very few households conjoin three generations. Most households are comprised of parents and children, but the number of children is declining as well. Proceeding in tandem is a trend toward less and less contact with people in one’s environment. 　　　Most city residents work for corporations that strictly control them and force them to work long hours. Competition is cutthroat. People rarely help each other. Incredibly, Tokyo trains arrive at stations every three minutes, an indicator of how busy and hard-working people are. 　　　The pressure to perform well on entrance examinations hangs over children. As they proceed from kindergarten to elementary school, junior high, high school, and college, they are sorted and resorted by their performance on tests. Our society classifies people according to their mental acuity (their IQ) from childhood. This cannot help but engender a tremendous amount of stress in children. 　　　Increasingly, children use television and video games to escape into fantasy worlds. Where can we find children still capable of smiling with innocent delight? Some become introverted, shutting themselves up in their rooms, rejecting communication with their families and the outside world. 　　　Sadly, child crimes are on the rise. We see cold-blooded murder even by children of 12, 13, or 14. A grave social problem is middle-class girls who have never lacked for anything but still find reasons to engage in prostitution (disguised as financial support). The collapse of family life is surely implicated in these trends. Families that appear absolutely normal and typical to the outside seem to have forgotten what true communication is. 　　　For five years straight, Japan’s suicide rate has topped 30,000, which may make it the advanced nation with the most suicides. As Japan’s recession drags on, suicide among middle-aged and older Japanese men who have been fired by their companies mounts. Given that-recession notwithstanding-we are still the world’s number two economic power, job loss sentences no one to starvation. If survival is assured, why would job loss immediately eviscerate one’s will to live and turn the mind to suicide? Such fragility points to a pathology endemic to people in advanced nations. 　　　Depression is increasingly common among the young. A quiet new trend is using razor blades to cut one’s wrist. Another is using anti-depressives. I am a guest professor at Tokyo’s Waseda University. I teach literature and novel-writing. Maybe it’s because my students are among the gifted, but I rarely encounter rebellious students. They are virtually all gentle, delicate, and quiet. 　　　Nonetheless, more and more students have a dark place in their hearts Many girls are anorexic. Some students are given to inciting mass panics inside train cars or other crowded places. Of the 150 or so students I teach, more than ten have confidentially admitted to me that they have cut their wrists or that they are taking anti-depressive medication. Surely, other students do so without reporting it to me. I am regularly meeting those students after class for discussion. What they tell me is that the world around them feels empty, unreal, like a shadow picture. It’s hard even to feel alive. Everything feels distant, vacuous. The red blood flowing from the freshly cut skin finally gives them the feeling, “Oh, I must be alive!” 　　　In the midst of material prosperity, the hearts of the youth are locked in despair. Simply put, Japanese society no longer affords a purpose for living. This phenomenon is common to advanced nations. 　　　I have spoken bluntly about Japanese society. I have described the good and not attempted to conceal the bad. It is a society in which no one goes hungry, an egalitarian society that guarantees all the freedoms. Pensions, welfare, medical care-all those systems are fully developed to meet societal need. On the flip side, we also have environmental destruction, increasing crime, and ravaged human hearts. Pure joy in life eludes us. 　　　I dared to speak of the bright side and the dark side, the inescapable truths about Japan, which opened to the world 150 years ago, plunged into modernization, and grew into the world’s number two economic power. 　　　The introduction was lengthy, but what I really wanted to talk to you about today is this. 　　　Today, Bhutan is partially closed to the world. This has fascinated me for years for the following reasons. 　　　In every country, human history has taken roughly the same course. Hunting and gathering communities evolved into settled farming communities. Cities formed and society inexorably moved toward capitalism and market economies. I see this movement as a historical necessity. 　　　Korea, Thailand, and other Asian countries have followed the same course. Even the socialist countries are now in the process of choosing market economies. Every country in the world is simultaneously marching in the same direction. Did history leave us any choice? Was there anything else we could have done? I always question this. 　　　“Globalization” is on everyone’s lips, bespeaking the general desire to see every country united under the rubric of capitalism. Capitalism is the tidal current rolling over the world. But I question this. When all is said and done, I cannot believe that globalization is the best course for humanity. 　　　Crime and violence are rife in the United States. More than 30,000 people kill themselves yearly in Japan. These two countries are, respectively, first and second in GNP. Can this be the peak toward which humankind is climbing, the pinnacle of our dreams? 　　　Globalization is costing us cultural diversity. Violent Hollywood films have taken the world by storm, edging out of the market artistically superior European films. Cultures with unique spirituality and character are in decline, as egoistic societies that believe in nothing but money proliferate. 　　　Bhutan is now standing at a crossroads. I hear that satellite television is now available in Bhutan. If you open your country to outside influences, the market economy will flood through the gate. It is unstoppable, because capitalism is based on desire. Capitalism is the exact opposite principle from the elimination of desire espoused by Buddhism. 　　　Japan, once a Buddhist country like Bhutan, now has been swallowed up by the market economy. And what sort of country did it become? I have already discussed the pluses and minuses. Only the facade of Buddhism now remains in Japan. Warm-heartedness and kindness have been chased out by fierce competition and a desolate coldness. I do not mean to say that Bhutan should remain completely closed. A newcomer is unqualified to make such statements. Neither can I,　representative of a modernized, rich country that has freely contaminated the global environment, have the audacity to tell you not to modernize. Anyone who takes such a position only reveals the egoism inherent to advanced countries. 　　　All that said, I wish more than ever for Bhutan to walk its own path. I understand that the Kingdom of Bhutan espouses the principle of GNH. The term we are familiar with is GNP. Gross National Product is used to measure a country’s power. The term derives from modern Western Europe’s penchant for valuing nothing but economic might. 　　　GNH is a completely different concept. The idea of making Gross National Happiness the highest good is based on an insight capable of countering economic absolutism and globalization. Included in the word “happiness” are surely nature, environmental preservation, spirituality, culture, and more. 　　　I am not advocating rigid protection of your unique culture. Over the long term, cultures must influence each other. No completely independent cultures exist anywhere. Rather than pushing a simple, unified culture on everyone, we must respect cultures that are different from our own. Cultural diversity serves as a pool of possibility in human history. We should be able to change slowly in response to the influences we receive from each other, and form composite cultures. 　　　Thus, cultures respond to change and gradually become stable composite cultures. When they grow old and lose the ability to create, a new phase begins. New dimensions are generated; the culture is revitalized and brightened. Is not peace the revitalization of culture? I do not wish to live in a rigid world, but one that is endlessly engaged in blending cultures. 　　　I know not what direction Bhutan will take. Rather than becoming engulfed in the flood of capitalization, the market economy, and globalization, I hope you will weather the modern age, preserving your cultural depth and richness. 　　　There is no other country like Bhutan, a precious experiment in world history. I will be watching closely to see what kind of country Bhutan becomes. I hope Bhutan will be the world’s number one nation in Gross National Happiness. 　　　I thank you from my heart for giving me an opportunity to speak in Bhutan, a country I have yearned to visit. I hope that Bhutan and Japan will grow close and that I may come back another day. Thank you, and thank you once again.