During the past few weeks, while Japan has experienced the horrendous triple disasters of earthquake, tsunami and nuclear crisis, I have been amazed at the encouraging and uplifting power of simple, heartfelt words.
During the past few weeks, while Japan has experienced the horrendous triple disasters of earthquake, tsunami and nuclear crisis, I have been amazed at the encouraging and uplifting power of simple, heartfelt words.
Take the pledge of fair play made by Shinsuke Noyama, captain of Soshi Gakuen High School from Okayama Prefecture, at the March 23 opening ceremony for the 83rd National High School Baseball Invitational Tournament held at Koshien Stadium in Nishinomiya, Hyogo Prefecture.
"Ganbaro, Nippon!" (Let's hang in there together, Japan), Noyama said. "We pledge to play fair and with all our might, while grateful for the lives given to us."
Emperor Akihito, in his video message to the nation on March 16, said, "It is my heartfelt hope that the people will continue to work hand in hand, treating each other with compassion, in order to overcome these trying times."
These are words of pledge and prayer. Brief, plain and to the point, they are deeply touching.
Yet our political leaders have yet to offer a single convincing statement about the disaster that strikes an emotional chord in the hearts of the people.
Prime Minister Naoto Kan said recently, "Whether we Japanese can overcome this crisis, that's a question posed to each and every one of us, I believe."
That was no pledge, nor did it offer a prayer. Was this question aimed at the public, or a rhetorical attempt to raise an issue? I have no idea.
Indeed, politicians and bureaucrats involved in the relief and recovery efforts are struggling over what and how much they should say in public.
"If we were to publish all information under the assumption that the worst could happen, not only the prime minister's office, but also the public would become upset," said one bureaucrat working to contain the nuclear crisis and prevent economic damage due to wild, unfounded rumors.
"If, however, we withhold certain information, we would, of course, lose our credibility when it finally is revealed. This crisis has made very clear to us, for the first time ever, how difficult it is to disclose information in such a way as to not panic the public amid such extraordinary circumstances," the bureaucrat said.
A midranking member of the opposition Liberal Democratic Party who is involved in developing a national reconstruction plan, faces another sticky dilemma.
"On one hand, if we don't learn the lessons of past major disasters like the Great Hanshin Earthquake (in 1995), we could end up with an unworkable plan," the LDP lawmaker said.
"But on the other hand, if we rely too much on past experiences, we won't be able to speak effectively about our responses to this unprecedented disaster, and we won't be able to use our imaginations (to improve the current crisis response)."
Since this is an unforeseen challenge for the nation, there is no immediate answer to such questions.
The public communication dilemmas facing politicians and bureaucrats are clear evidence that the March 11 triple disasters have badly shaken the foundation of this nation's political culture.
All this reminds me of comments that Izuru Makihara, a Tohoku University professor of political science, said in a debate published in the vernacular Asahi Shimbun opinion page just before the political regime change in 2009.
The Democratic Party of Japan, which was just about to usurp the LDP, should focus on how to "create a vision that appeals to voters" and "fit its policy agenda to that vision," Makihara said.
Individual policy initiatives and financing plans are only "parts of the political road map," he argued.
Makihara's observation is even more relevant today. Election manifestoes have lost their power to persuade. Making simple lists of numerical targets is passe.
Instead, political parties and politicians need to start shaping a new vision for this nation's future in their postquake rebuilding plans for eastern Japan, a powerful and persuasive goal for the 21st century.
Of course, a picture is worth a thousand words. The harrowing videos and photos of what happened in the quake and tsunami areas were far more effective than any words in making us grasp the horrifying scale of the devastation.
The only way to enable the people to envision a post-reconstruction future for this nation is to craft an imaginative and powerful plan for rebirth.
The nation is waiting to hear the voice of a great orator describing that future.
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Takeshi Soga is a senior staff writer of The Asahi Shimbun.