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Tatsuo Arima '57 is a teaching
May 15, 1932, the prime minister of Japan assassinated by a group of fanatic soldiers ultra-nationalists. His final plea, "Let us then you would understand," was silenced Briefly speaking, the series of After the unexpected passage of the treaty, the opposition to the government came to include not only those who had strongly opposed the treaty, but many of those who had favored it, and most of those who had remained indifferent. From this time on, quite abruptly, the anti-government program widened its base to embrace, besides opposition to the treaty, the questions of the "preservation of democracy," the "normalization of parliamentary politics," and, as a concomitant to the anti-Kishi slogans, the movement against Eisenhower's visit. In this sense, a purely partisan, leftist movement was converted into a city-centered mass movement against the allegedly anti-parliamentarian attitude of the Kishi cabinet. The main argument was that the government had refused to deliberate further on the treaty, but had resorted to a direct action, even daring to employ the police within the Diet building. The Socialists, too, had used force, but this was considered a lesser offense to parliamentarianism than the acts of the government. The demonstrators demanded the resignation of the prime minister and the dissolution of the Diet, so that public opinion could be heard anew on the treaty. In doing so, they had the almost unanimous support of the major newspapers. It was a selfconscious movement to restore faith in parliamentarianism. The government strongly defended its stand, and claimed that it, too, was holding parliamentarianism against attempts to overthrow it violently. It was encouraging that both the government and the anti-government forces supported their respective positions in terms of the defense of Japanese parliamentary democracy. There were, however, discouraging symptoms in both camps which complicated the issue and yet which went to the heart of the problem. Let us first take the Socialists. They had not enjoyed the confidence of the people. During the riots of May and June, there were few placards proposing the establishment of a Socialist government. Their abstract arguments and self-righteous criticisms of the government had had little appeal to the average voter. Further-more, they had failed to address themselves to the solution of concrete problems, while deeply immersed within theoretical controversies among themselves. The atrophy of confidence in the opposition party, as well as in the governmental party, might suggest an eventual demise of parliamentarianism itself, reminding one of the situation in the thirties and forties. That this is not an idle speculation can be seen in the attitude of some of the Japanese bureaucrats. In a country where the parliamentary system emerged not as an indigenous political force but as a transplanted mechanism, there is a repeated assertion on the part of those critical of the system that parliamentarianism only defines the rules of political decision making, and as such has no intrinsic normative value. Once one of us was invited to attend a discussion meeting of a few young bureaucrats from a certain ministry. There he had the frightfully uncomfortble experience of listening to them expound the notion of the inherent inefficiency of the parliamentary system. They exhibited a peculiar combination of Marxist-Leninist contempt for parliamentarianism as a bourgeois facade with the impatient frustration of bureaucrats at the irritating inefficiency of the parliamentary procedure. This elitist outlook toward politics was also shared by the intellectuals, particularly college professors. They exhibited their sceptical attitude toward members of the Diet and insisted that the majority in the Diet did not represent the "will of the people," revealing their contempt for the competence of the voters to choose. Nevertheless, unless the intellectuals are very careful in approaching the subject of "enlightening the voting public," they will further alienate themselves from the common strata of Japanese society. After the hypertheoretical per- spective of the intellectual results in a lack of realism in answering more concrete questions of daily life. For example, one of the most persistently repeated words during the demonstrations was "Doutralism." Enchanting though the expression was, we felt discouraged each time we asked more prominent intellectuals to articulate this idea within the realistic context of international politics. They failed to define specific means through which this goal would be reached, or to point out concrete alternatives to the present alliance with the United States. The most disturbing feature of the whole episode was the attitude of some of the more radical students. Throughout the month and a half between May and June, the Japanese students, we were told, revealed an impressive ability in planning their strategy and in organizing themselves and discussion groups in the best democratic tradition. Such an ability, however, was confined only to those who shared the same views. Once they were placed in a situation where they had to express their opinion to other groups of people, they ordinarily evinced an attitude of arrogant contempt and self-righteousness, refusing to create a channel of communication. Their sense of "crisis" as well as their emotional commitment to "orthodox Marxism" compelled them to negate altogether the possibility of parliamentary gradualism. Seen in such a framework as we have tried to describe, the gigantic political movements of May and June were one more instance of the Japanese people's effort to gain political expression. Those for and against the government both exhibited eagerness to defend "parliamentarianism," but their attitudes were often its very opposite. At that time we hoped that the people had sufficiently grappled with the problem of implementing parliamentary democracy in a society which had lacked a tradition of the logical articulation of ideas. We hoped that amid the confusion and chaos of the period, the principles of parliamentarianism would sink deeply into the consciousness of the Japanese people. The assassination last week indicated that the threat to parliamentarianism has never been eradicated. It was third in a series of attempts made on eminent political figures since last June. The first assassin, attacking the life of a moderate Socialist leader, had no relations with a rightist group, and except for his hatred of the Zengakuren, he committed his act in a schizophrenic fit. The second attacker, aiming at Kishi, had no intention of killing him, but wanted merely to punish the prime minister for having "clumsily handled the problems of the Liberal Democratic Party." The third incident differed from the previous two in that the youth had undertaken the act out of a genuine political conviction. Obviously, the governmental party had nothing to do with this tragic event. Nor does it seem that the assassin represents a significant portion of the population, or Both the Liberal Democratic and Socialist Parties must now stand together against their common foes
Briefly speaking, the series of After the unexpected passage of the treaty, the opposition to the government came to include not only those who had strongly opposed the treaty, but many of those who had favored it, and most of those who had remained indifferent. From this time on, quite abruptly, the anti-government program widened its base to embrace, besides opposition to the treaty, the questions of the "preservation of democracy," the "normalization of parliamentary politics," and, as a concomitant to the anti-Kishi slogans, the movement against Eisenhower's visit. In this sense, a purely partisan, leftist movement was converted into a city-centered mass movement against the allegedly anti-parliamentarian attitude of the Kishi cabinet. The main argument was that the government had refused to deliberate further on the treaty, but had resorted to a direct action, even daring to employ the police within the Diet building. The Socialists, too, had used force, but this was considered a lesser offense to parliamentarianism than the acts of the government. The demonstrators demanded the resignation of the prime minister and the dissolution of the Diet, so that public opinion could be heard anew on the treaty. In doing so, they had the almost unanimous support of the major newspapers. It was a selfconscious movement to restore faith in parliamentarianism. The government strongly defended its stand, and claimed that it, too, was holding parliamentarianism against attempts to overthrow it violently. It was encouraging that both the government and the anti-government forces supported their respective positions in terms of the defense of Japanese parliamentary democracy. There were, however, discouraging symptoms in both camps which complicated the issue and yet which went to the heart of the problem. Let us first take the Socialists. They had not enjoyed the confidence of the people. During the riots of May and June, there were few placards proposing the establishment of a Socialist government. Their abstract arguments and self-righteous criticisms of the government had had little appeal to the average voter. Further-more, they had failed to address themselves to the solution of concrete problems, while deeply immersed within theoretical controversies among themselves. The atrophy of confidence in the opposition party, as well as in the governmental party, might suggest an eventual demise of parliamentarianism itself, reminding one of the situation in the thirties and forties. That this is not an idle speculation can be seen in the attitude of some of the Japanese bureaucrats. In a country where the parliamentary system emerged not as an indigenous political force but as a transplanted mechanism, there is a repeated assertion on the part of those critical of the system that parliamentarianism only defines the rules of political decision making, and as such has no intrinsic normative value. Once one of us was invited to attend a discussion meeting of a few young bureaucrats from a certain ministry. There he had the frightfully uncomfortble experience of listening to them expound the notion of the inherent inefficiency of the parliamentary system. They exhibited a peculiar combination of Marxist-Leninist contempt for parliamentarianism as a bourgeois facade with the impatient frustration of bureaucrats at the irritating inefficiency of the parliamentary procedure. This elitist outlook toward politics was also shared by the intellectuals, particularly college professors. They exhibited their sceptical attitude toward members of the Diet and insisted that the majority in the Diet did not represent the "will of the people," revealing their contempt for the competence of the voters to choose. Nevertheless, unless the intellectuals are very careful in approaching the subject of "enlightening the voting public," they will further alienate themselves from the common strata of Japanese society. After the hypertheoretical per- spective of the intellectual results in a lack of realism in answering more concrete questions of daily life. For example, one of the most persistently repeated words during the demonstrations was "Doutralism." Enchanting though the expression was, we felt discouraged each time we asked more prominent intellectuals to articulate this idea within the realistic context of international politics. They failed to define specific means through which this goal would be reached, or to point out concrete alternatives to the present alliance with the United States. The most disturbing feature of the whole episode was the attitude of some of the more radical students. Throughout the month and a half between May and June, the Japanese students, we were told, revealed an impressive ability in planning their strategy and in organizing themselves and discussion groups in the best democratic tradition. Such an ability, however, was confined only to those who shared the same views. Once they were placed in a situation where they had to express their opinion to other groups of people, they ordinarily evinced an attitude of arrogant contempt and self-righteousness, refusing to create a channel of communication. Their sense of "crisis" as well as their emotional commitment to "orthodox Marxism" compelled them to negate altogether the possibility of parliamentary gradualism. Seen in such a framework as we have tried to describe, the gigantic political movements of May and June were one more instance of the Japanese people's effort to gain political expression. Those for and against the government both exhibited eagerness to defend "parliamentarianism," but their attitudes were often its very opposite. At that time we hoped that the people had sufficiently grappled with the problem of implementing parliamentary democracy in a society which had lacked a tradition of the logical articulation of ideas. We hoped that amid the confusion and chaos of the period, the principles of parliamentarianism would sink deeply into the consciousness of the Japanese people. The assassination last week indicated that the threat to parliamentarianism has never been eradicated. It was third in a series of attempts made on eminent political figures since last June. The first assassin, attacking the life of a moderate Socialist leader, had no relations with a rightist group, and except for his hatred of the Zengakuren, he committed his act in a schizophrenic fit. The second attacker, aiming at Kishi, had no intention of killing him, but wanted merely to punish the prime minister for having "clumsily handled the problems of the Liberal Democratic Party." The third incident differed from the previous two in that the youth had undertaken the act out of a genuine political conviction. Obviously, the governmental party had nothing to do with this tragic event. Nor does it seem that the assassin represents a significant portion of the population, or Both the Liberal Democratic and Socialist Parties must now stand together against their common foes
Briefly speaking, the series of After the unexpected passage of the treaty, the opposition to the government came to include not only those who had strongly opposed the treaty, but many of those who had favored it, and most of those who had remained indifferent. From this time on, quite abruptly, the anti-government program widened its base to embrace, besides opposition to the treaty, the questions of the "preservation of democracy," the "normalization of parliamentary politics," and, as a concomitant to the anti-Kishi slogans, the movement against Eisenhower's visit. In this sense, a purely partisan, leftist movement was converted into a city-centered mass movement against the allegedly anti-parliamentarian attitude of the Kishi cabinet. The main argument was that the government had refused to deliberate further on the treaty, but had resorted to a direct action, even daring to employ the police within the Diet building. The Socialists, too, had used force, but this was considered a lesser offense to parliamentarianism than the acts of the government. The demonstrators demanded the resignation of the prime minister and the dissolution of the Diet, so that public opinion could be heard anew on the treaty. In doing so, they had the almost unanimous support of the major newspapers. It was a selfconscious movement to restore faith in parliamentarianism. The government strongly defended its stand, and claimed that it, too, was holding parliamentarianism against attempts to overthrow it violently. It was encouraging that both the government and the anti-government forces supported their respective positions in terms of the defense of Japanese parliamentary democracy. There were, however, discouraging symptoms in both camps which complicated the issue and yet which went to the heart of the problem. Let us first take the Socialists. They had not enjoyed the confidence of the people. During the riots of May and June, there were few placards proposing the establishment of a Socialist government. Their abstract arguments and self-righteous criticisms of the government had had little appeal to the average voter. Further-more, they had failed to address themselves to the solution of concrete problems, while deeply immersed within theoretical controversies among themselves. The atrophy of confidence in the opposition party, as well as in the governmental party, might suggest an eventual demise of parliamentarianism itself, reminding one of the situation in the thirties and forties. That this is not an idle speculation can be seen in the attitude of some of the Japanese bureaucrats. In a country where the parliamentary system emerged not as an indigenous political force but as a transplanted mechanism, there is a repeated assertion on the part of those critical of the system that parliamentarianism only defines the rules of political decision making, and as such has no intrinsic normative value. Once one of us was invited to attend a discussion meeting of a few young bureaucrats from a certain ministry. There he had the frightfully uncomfortble experience of listening to them expound the notion of the inherent inefficiency of the parliamentary system. They exhibited a peculiar combination of Marxist-Leninist contempt for parliamentarianism as a bourgeois facade with the impatient frustration of bureaucrats at the irritating inefficiency of the parliamentary procedure. This elitist outlook toward politics was also shared by the intellectuals, particularly college professors. They exhibited their sceptical attitude toward members of the Diet and insisted that the majority in the Diet did not represent the "will of the people," revealing their contempt for the competence of the voters to choose. Nevertheless, unless the intellectuals are very careful in approaching the subject of "enlightening the voting public," they will further alienate themselves from the common strata of Japanese society. After the hypertheoretical per- spective of the intellectual results in a lack of realism in answering more concrete questions of daily life. For example, one of the most persistently repeated words during the demonstrations was "Doutralism." Enchanting though the expression was, we felt discouraged each time we asked more prominent intellectuals to articulate this idea within the realistic context of international politics. They failed to define specific means through which this goal would be reached, or to point out concrete alternatives to the present alliance with the United States. The most disturbing feature of the whole episode was the attitude of some of the more radical students. Throughout the month and a half between May and June, the Japanese students, we were told, revealed an impressive ability in planning their strategy and in organizing themselves and discussion groups in the best democratic tradition. Such an ability, however, was confined only to those who shared the same views. Once they were placed in a situation where they had to express their opinion to other groups of people, they ordinarily evinced an attitude of arrogant contempt and self-righteousness, refusing to create a channel of communication. Their sense of "crisis" as well as their emotional commitment to "orthodox Marxism" compelled them to negate altogether the possibility of parliamentary gradualism. Seen in such a framework as we have tried to describe, the gigantic political movements of May and June were one more instance of the Japanese people's effort to gain political expression. Those for and against the government both exhibited eagerness to defend "parliamentarianism," but their attitudes were often its very opposite. At that time we hoped that the people had sufficiently grappled with the problem of implementing parliamentary democracy in a society which had lacked a tradition of the logical articulation of ideas. We hoped that amid the confusion and chaos of the period, the principles of parliamentarianism would sink deeply into the consciousness of the Japanese people. The assassination last week indicated that the threat to parliamentarianism has never been eradicated. It was third in a series of attempts made on eminent political figures since last June. The first assassin, attacking the life of a moderate Socialist leader, had no relations with a rightist group, and except for his hatred of the Zengakuren, he committed his act in a schizophrenic fit. The second attacker, aiming at Kishi, had no intention of killing him, but wanted merely to punish the prime minister for having "clumsily handled the problems of the Liberal Democratic Party." The third incident differed from the previous two in that the youth had undertaken the act out of a genuine political conviction. Obviously, the governmental party had nothing to do with this tragic event. Nor does it seem that the assassin represents a significant portion of the population, or Both the Liberal Democratic and Socialist Parties must now stand together against their common foes
After the unexpected passage of the treaty, the opposition to the government came to include not only those who had strongly opposed the treaty, but many of those who had favored it, and most of those who had remained indifferent. From this time on, quite abruptly, the anti-government program widened its base to embrace, besides opposition to the treaty, the questions of the "preservation of democracy," the "normalization of parliamentary politics," and, as a concomitant to the anti-Kishi slogans, the movement against Eisenhower's visit. In this sense, a purely partisan, leftist movement was converted into a city-centered mass movement against the allegedly anti-parliamentarian attitude of the Kishi cabinet. The main argument was that the government had refused to deliberate further on the treaty, but had resorted to a direct action, even daring to employ the police within the Diet building. The Socialists, too, had used force, but this was considered a lesser offense to parliamentarianism than the acts of the government. The demonstrators demanded the resignation of the prime minister and the dissolution of the Diet, so that public opinion could be heard anew on the treaty. In doing so, they had the almost unanimous support of the major newspapers. It was a selfconscious movement to restore faith in parliamentarianism. The government strongly defended its stand, and claimed that it, too, was holding parliamentarianism against attempts to overthrow it violently.
It was encouraging that both the government and the anti-government forces supported their respective positions in terms of the defense of Japanese parliamentary democracy. There were, however, discouraging symptoms in both camps which complicated the issue and yet which went to the heart of the problem.
Let us first take the Socialists. They had not enjoyed the confidence of the people. During the riots of May and June, there were few placards proposing the establishment of a Socialist government. Their abstract arguments and self-righteous criticisms of the government had had little appeal to the average voter. Further-more, they had failed to address themselves to the solution of concrete problems, while deeply immersed within theoretical controversies among themselves. The atrophy of confidence in the opposition party, as well as in the governmental party, might suggest an eventual demise of parliamentarianism itself, reminding one of the situation in the thirties and forties. That this is not an idle speculation can be seen in the attitude of some of the Japanese bureaucrats. In a country where the parliamentary system emerged not as an indigenous political force but as a transplanted mechanism, there is a repeated assertion on the part of those critical of the system that parliamentarianism only defines the rules of political decision making, and as such has no intrinsic normative value. Once one of us was invited to attend a discussion meeting of a few young bureaucrats from a certain ministry. There he had the frightfully uncomfortble experience of listening to them expound the notion of the inherent inefficiency of the parliamentary system. They exhibited a peculiar combination of Marxist-Leninist contempt for parliamentarianism as a bourgeois facade with the impatient frustration of bureaucrats at the irritating inefficiency of the parliamentary procedure.
This elitist outlook toward politics was also shared by the intellectuals, particularly college professors. They exhibited their sceptical attitude toward members of the Diet and insisted that the majority in the Diet did not represent the "will of the people," revealing their contempt for the competence of the voters to choose. Nevertheless, unless the intellectuals are very careful in approaching the subject of "enlightening the voting public," they will further alienate themselves from the common strata of Japanese society. After the hypertheoretical per- spective of the intellectual results in a lack of realism in answering more concrete questions of daily life. For example, one of the most persistently repeated words during the demonstrations was "Doutralism." Enchanting though the expression was, we felt discouraged each time we asked more prominent intellectuals to articulate this idea within the realistic context of international politics. They failed to define specific means through which this goal would be reached, or to point out concrete alternatives to the present alliance with the United States.
The most disturbing feature of the whole episode was the attitude of some of the more radical students. Throughout the month and a half between May and June, the Japanese students, we were told, revealed an impressive ability in planning their strategy and in organizing themselves and discussion groups in the best democratic tradition. Such an ability, however, was confined only to those who shared the same views. Once they were placed in a situation where they had to express their opinion to other groups of people, they ordinarily evinced an attitude of arrogant contempt and self-righteousness, refusing to create a channel of communication. Their sense of "crisis" as well as their emotional commitment to "orthodox Marxism" compelled them to negate altogether the possibility of parliamentary gradualism.
Seen in such a framework as we have tried to describe, the gigantic political movements of May and June were one more instance of the Japanese people's effort to gain political expression. Those for and against the government both exhibited eagerness to defend "parliamentarianism," but their attitudes were often its very opposite. At that time we hoped that the people had sufficiently grappled with the problem of implementing parliamentary democracy in a society which had lacked a tradition of the logical articulation of ideas. We hoped that amid the confusion and chaos of the period, the principles of parliamentarianism would sink deeply into the consciousness of the Japanese people.
The assassination last week indicated that the threat to parliamentarianism has never been eradicated. It was third in a series of attempts made on eminent political figures since last June. The first assassin, attacking the life of a moderate Socialist leader, had no relations with a rightist group, and except for his hatred of the Zengakuren, he committed his act in a schizophrenic fit. The second attacker, aiming at Kishi, had no intention of killing him, but wanted merely to punish the prime minister for having "clumsily handled the problems of the Liberal Democratic Party." The third incident differed from the previous two in that the youth had undertaken the act out of a genuine political conviction. Obviously, the governmental party had nothing to do with this tragic event. Nor does it seem that the assassin represents a significant portion of the population, or Both the Liberal Democratic and Socialist Parties must now stand together against their common foes
Both the Liberal Democratic and Socialist Parties must now stand together against their common foes
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