Some 37 million people make for the veritable crush of commuters moving towards their destinations, grim-faced, from 7 am in the Greater Tokyo Area (14 million in the metropolitan area). They weave their way through the labyrinthine stations or cascade down the city pavements, especially in downtown Tokyo, almost in pin-drop silence. Not a dropped scrap of paper or a speck of dirt anywhere in sight. One cannot help being impressed. Just as one is delightfully impressed by the autumnal transformation of the monotonous Tokyo skyline – with its grey and brown, tin box-like structures, densely packed into limited space, climbing astronomical heights – courtesy Nature’s overwhelming vivacity.
The trees don a fascinating array of colours; gold and yellow, dark green and lemon green, scarlet and orange, with the ginkgo and maple lining the streets, like gorgeously bedecked Indian ladies welcoming the ‘baraati’ to a wedding; even the pathways laden with the colours of the fall. Minimalism and modernism, with clean lines and neutral materials, might make sense to the frugal architect concerned with economy of resource use but such a consistently visually subdued landscape does not impress an Indian, accustomed to homes and even off ices driven by artistic expressiveness and visual richness. What much of Japan lacks by way of variation in architecture is more than compensated for by these vibrant tunnels of colour.
One appreciates Japan’s obsession with utilitarianism, though. Probably a psyche developed in the aftermath of the holocaust, building a modern society and economy from scratch and standing abreast with the advanced world as it based its foundations on durability and subtlety, ever respectful of environmental conditions. Seismic sensitivity is the key, given Japan’s proneness to earthquakes. In this bleak landscape, one appreciates the bright yellow coloured pachinko houses (casinos) that invite one to have a go. For the rest, the Tokyo station stands out for its red-brick facade in a Queen Anne Revival style. Its sophisticated grandeur combines Western masonry with seismic resilience. So does the building housing the Ministry of Justice. Another building that catches one’s attention is the made-of-granite Diet, with a central pyramid-shaped dome that is rather artistic, even though in monochrome and looks solid for the heavyweight legislative work that happens in Japan’s bicameral legislature.
There is probably nothing utilitarian about a smile or chatting with a friend on the way to work, which is why the sea of dark-suited men and women commuters keep their teeth firmly within their mouths. Nobody smokes outside the closed designated smoking spaces. Nobody eats outside permitted areas. No one eats when walking. There are rules everywhere: do not talk inside the elevator, do not talk on the train, do not, do not, do not. Such behaviour codes extend to buildings as well, with strict zoning laws controlling height and form, driving more uniformity. Yet when the old lady, a co-passenger on the Shinkansen (Japan’s bullet train) rushes to wipe the floor, when another passenger has accidentally spilt some liquid, with a wet tissue that she extracts from her purse, you cannot but be impressed.
In this case, as the lady went to throw the tissue into a garbage bag (a very difficult find in Japan), a younger lady spotted a mark that the senior citizen had missed, promptly took out a tissue to wipe the train floor clean. Doubly impressed! It is not easy to figure out a country and its culture in a short visit but it is obvious that despite the serious demeanour, the Japanese is not a sullen soul. Ask for directions in a confusing tube station and the person might actually change course to guide you to your gate. Courtesy trumps personal convenience any time. By nightfall, it is clear that while Tokyo’s innumerable skyscrapers are all lit up, it is all rather muted.
The street lamps, just about provide yellow spots of light on the pavement, do not bathe their area in light. Fortunately, the pavements are never potholed and the roads are billiard table smooth. Indeed, when the aircraft descends on a Tokyo night, there is none of the brilliance that a Chicago, for instance, sports. Tokyo is a prettily dotted expanse with large dark patches: Japan’s parks. It is in the parks that the Japanese smiles, when a couple plays with their child after work. Every neighbourhood has one just to provide spaces for families to relax; at the Odaiba beach or when the family is out visiting a shrine, which the highly religious Japanese do by the droves. The other element relieving the bland cityscape is the innumerable temples and shrines that tell fascinating tales. Their cypress bark roofs (hiwadabuki) or the more functional gabled roofs, often found together in a structure, using different materials, cypress bark, thatch, reeds, wood shingles and even present-day tiles for a specific shape.
A local Japanese explains that the exposed triangular ends (gable) often carry decorative cross-pieces (chigi) and horizontal billets (katsuogi), which are not only significant Shinto symbols but also provide a visual sense of balance and even grandeur, conveying the hierarchy of the structure, apart from being very useful for rain runoff. The third element providing relief to the homogeneity of buildings is the Tori gates, in black or vermillion, in stone or wood, serving as entrances to Shinto shrines and, as the guide tells me, demarcating the ordinary, secular world from the sacred. Two vertical posts support two horizontal crossbeams, with the upper, usually curved, crossbeam often extending beyond the posts and the lower one, positioned slightly below.
They seem to be doing more than easing the monotony of the built space, as they ward off the evil spirits and probably bring a measure of stability to the Japanese economy in these times of international headwinds. For all its travails, corporate profits still hold their own in Japan, while its innovative spirit is striving to push the country to the frontlines of renewable energy, biotechnology and artificial intelligence. These are being leveraged to sustain industrial competitiveness, notwithstanding Japan’s internal economic imbalances. These include a very high government debt-to-GDP ratio (around 251 per cent in 2024), a less than satisfying industrial output, disruptions in the automotive sector and some disturbing demographic trends that include a shrinking working-age population.
There are strange dichotomies in the economic landscape where, despite a tight labour market, wage growth is stagnant, limiting consumer purchasing power and broader demand. Then there is the apparent sense of loneliness where pets seem to be the companions of choice. Even on a national holiday, the Japanese youth are out with a perambulator carrying a dog and a cat. Pets are VIPs, they are fussed over and dressed to kill but such companionship does not quite compensate for the human touch, one thinks. Why else would Japan have such a worrisome suicide rate? I am told that a sense of isolation (hikikomori) and overwork (karoshi), are the main drivers of suicide.
Besides, there is a culture of heavy drinking in which the Japanese find a safety valve for their pent-up emotions and stress levels at work. One wonders if the strict adherence to rules adds to the pressure. The Japanese were heavy smokers too but are becoming a little wiser today. There is also Japan’s “practised pacifism,” rooted in its post-World War II constitution. Article 9 renounces war and limits its military to a self-defence force and has shaped Japan’s identity till recent times, with shifts toward increased military capability.
Is such “proactive pacifism,” as it is being described, add another complicated layer to the Japanese mind? I think, I begin to understand Murakami a bit. In to this he a dwinds- afflicted landscape, Japan has elected a new female Prime Minister, Sanae Takaichi, portrayed on some city walls. Will she soften and enliven the population while charging its economy? One has heard of her feisty spirit, her prioritising of defence and tech sovereignty. How will she instil a healing touch, a greater sense of colour, a sense of lightening up? One wonders; one feels somewhat sad too about a culture that one has learnt to love and admire from one’s childhood. There are so many Ps and Qs to mind in Japanese society but none as overwhelming as the Japanese’ love for the queue. One has heard of flash mobs; the Japanese have flash queues. Lines appear out of nowhere within seconds, whether to buy the famous Japanese shoe brand, the Onitsuka Tiger or to try out a popular shop for sushi. The writer is a veteran journalist and the Dean of the Tagore Institute of Peace Studies