Stop the Nukes

As Japan marks the six-month anniversary of the March 11 quake and tsunami this Sunday, some people will be doing it more loudly than others. At precisely 3.11pm, an anti-nuclear demonstration featuring punk groups, DJs and a 'Doka-Doka Roaring Marching Band' will depart from outside Shinjuku Alta in Shinjuku, led by members of Shiroto no Ran, a.k.a. Amateur Riot. This Suginami-ku collective has been behind some of the more ebullient demos held in response to the unfolding nuclear crisis, including the April 10 march in Koenji that drew as many as 15,000 people.

They're far from alone in these activities, however: on September 11, there will be separate parades held in other parts of town by peaceniks Be-In Tokyo, environmentalists Energy Shift, and the more politicised People's Plan Study Group. The situation was mirrored on June 11, when rival demonstrations took place around the city, although marchers later converged outside Shinjuku Alta for a mass gathering that police would spend a good few hours attempting to disperse.

'We had a meeting with all the people who were involved in the different demonstrations, and we talked about doing something together,' recalls Shiroto no Ran member Higuchi at a press conference at Shinjuku's Café Lavandería on September 5. 'But everyone has their own preferred style of demonstrating. There are people who want to do lots of call-and-response, and there are people who don't want to do any; there are people who just want to have gentle messages on their placards; there are people who want to make it as easy as possible for newcomers to join in with the parade; there are people who want to use sound trucks...

'If we all tried to do one big demonstration together, we'd just end up fighting.'

A veteran of the 2003 marches against the Iraq War and the anti-G8 protests in 2008, Higuchi says that he saw similar problems arise back then. Rallying together outside Studio Alta once the separate demonstrations had finished on June 11 presented a convenient solution, though it's hard not to feel that the different factions of the protest movement could achieve much more if they just learnt to get along.

Divided or no, the protestors have seen some positive developments during the past six months. Higuchi claims that then-PM Naoto Kan's order to shut the reactors at the Hamaoka power plant in Shizuoka Prefecture on May 6 was a preemptive response to the parade that Shiroto no Ran were organising in Shibuya the following day. (Make of that what you will.) Throughout the country, too, nuclear reactors have remained idle after being taken offline for routine safety checks, meaning that just 11 of the country's 54 reactors are currently in service. If the current trend continues, that number will have dropped to zero by next May.

However, this situation looks set to change. Kan's replacement, Yoshihiko Noda, was quick to distance himself from his predecessor's anti-nuclear stance: during his first week in office, he announced that atomic energy was necessary to save Japan's economy.

'It was inevitable that whoever came after Kan would be more in favour of nuclear power,' says Karin Amamiya, a writer who has been actively covering and participating in a variety of protests for the past five years. 'Even though the new prime minister says he's going to continue Kan's policies [to reduce dependence on nuclear power], in fact he's planning to restart the reactors. The situation is going to get worse.' It's a view that's echoed by the other participants at the press conference.

'I don't know why people are so afraid of turning the reactors off,' says another Shiroto no Ran member, who goes simply by the nickname of Tamago. 'They're so clearly dangerous. If there's such a thing as a safe reactor, sure, but…'

Therein lies one of the mysteries of Kan's departure: though he had an approval rating of less than 20 percent by the time he left office, public support for his anti-nuclear views remains high. And that, in turn, leads to another mystery: if more than 70 percent of the population are in favour of phasing out nuclear power, why aren't there tens, if not hundreds of thousands of people taking to the streets to say as much? Why, in fact, are there nearly as many people heading to Odaiba to rail against the glut of Korean dramas on Fuji TV?

'There's been a breakdown in society, where even though there's an input, there's no output,' says Higuchi, getting philosophical all of a sudden. 'Because of the nuclear accident and all the radiation, people should be participating in the anti-nuclear demos, but they end up taking part in the Fuji TV protests instead. It's not logical, but it's what happens.'

Rukitsura Matsumoto, who's participated in three of the Shiroto no Ran marches to date, describes the Fuji TV protests as 'like a parody of the anti-nuclear demonstrations, like something that's half in jest.' However, the others see them in a more serious light.

'People who take part in the Shiroto no Ran demonstrations are angry about the government, or the way they're dealing with the radiation and nuclear situation,' says Tamago. 'The people who gather in front of Fuji TV think that if they go there, they'll be saved. It's almost religious. They're angry, too, but there's something they don't understand.'

Amamiya says that there's been a marked increase in popular protest in Japan over the past few years, particularly among young people, though sometimes they seem to get their priorities twisted. 'When I went back to Hokkaido, I talked to a close friend of mine who knows how strongly I feel about the nuclear issue. "It's not the time to be participating in anti-nuclear demos," she told me. "Fuji TV is much more important.'"

If you don't agree with that, you know where to head on Sunday afternoon.

The Stop the Nukes Demo starts at Shinjuku Alta at 3.11pm, Sept 11