swiped from OTHERBOARD
OKYO, April 22 The young Japanese taken hostage in Iraq returned home this week, not to the warmth of a yellow ribbon embrace but to a disapproving nation's cold stare.
The first three hostages, including a woman who helped street children on the streets of Baghdad, first appeared on television two weeks ago as their knife-brandishing kidnappers threatened to slit their throats. A few days after their release, they landed here on Sunday, in the eye of a peculiarly Japanese storm.
"You got what you deserve!" one Japanese held up a hand-written sign at the airport where they landed. "You are Japan's shame," another wrote on the Web site of one of the hostages. They had "caused trouble" for everybody. The government, not to be outdone, announced it would bill them $6,000 for airfare.
Treated like criminals, the three have gone into hiding, effectively becoming prisoners inside their own homes. The kidnapped woman was last seen arriving at her parents' house, looking defeated and dazed from taking tranquilizers, flanked by relatives who helped her walk and bow deeply before the media, as a final apology to the nation.
Dr. Satoru Saito, a psychiatrist who has examined the three twice since their return, said the stress they are enduring now is "much heavier" than what they endured during their captivity in Iraq. Asked to name their three most stressful moments, the ex-hostages told him, in ascending order: the moment when they were kidnapped on their way to Baghdad; the knife-wielding incident; and the moment they watched a television show, on the morning after their return here, and realized Japan's anger with them.
"Let's say the knife incident, which lasted about 10 minutes, ranks 10 on a stress level," Dr. Saito said in an interview at his clinic today. "After they came back to Japan and saw the morning news show, their stress level ranked 12."
Beneath the surface of Japan's ultra-sophisticated cities lie the hierarchical ties that have governed this island nation for centuries and that, at moments of crises, invariably reassert themselves. The ex-hostages' transgression was to ignore a government advisory against traveling to Iraq. But their sin, in a vertical society that likes to think of itself as classless, was to defy what people call here "okami," or, literally, "what is higher."
To the angry Japanese, the first three hostages Nahoko Takato, 34, who started her own non-profit organization to help Iraqi street children; Soichiro Koriyama, 32, a freelance photographer; and Noriaki Imai, 18, a freelance writer also interested in the issue of depleted uranium munitions had acted selfishly. Two others kidnapped and released in a separate incident Junpei Yasuda, 30, a freelance journalist, and Nobutaka Watanabe, 36, a member of a pro-peace non-governmental organization were equally guilty.
Pursuing individual goals by defying the government and causing trouble for Japan was simply unforgivable. So the single government official to praise them was, not surprisingly, an American one.
"Well, everybody should understand the risk they are taking by going into dangerous areas," said Secretary of State Colin Powell. "But if nobody was willing to take a risk, then we would never move forward. We would never move our world forward.
"And so I'm pleased that these Japanese citizens were willing to put themselves at risk for a greater good, for a better purpose. And the Japanese people should be very proud that they have citizens like this willing to do that."
As an example of the unbridgeable gap between Japan and America, consider this comment by Yasuo Fukuda, the government's spokesman: "They may have gone on their own but they must consider how many people they caused trouble to because of their action."
The criticism began almost immediately after the first three were kidnapped two weeks ago. The environment minister, Yuriko Koike, blamed them for being "reckless."
OKYO, April 22 The young Japanese taken hostage in Iraq returned home this week, not to the warmth of a yellow ribbon embrace but to a disapproving nation's cold stare.
The first three hostages, including a woman who helped street children on the streets of Baghdad, first appeared on television two weeks ago as their knife-brandishing kidnappers threatened to slit their throats. A few days after their release, they landed here on Sunday, in the eye of a peculiarly Japanese storm.
"You got what you deserve!" one Japanese held up a hand-written sign at the airport where they landed. "You are Japan's shame," another wrote on the Web site of one of the hostages. They had "caused trouble" for everybody. The government, not to be outdone, announced it would bill them $6,000 for airfare.
Treated like criminals, the three have gone into hiding, effectively becoming prisoners inside their own homes. The kidnapped woman was last seen arriving at her parents' house, looking defeated and dazed from taking tranquilizers, flanked by relatives who helped her walk and bow deeply before the media, as a final apology to the nation.
Dr. Satoru Saito, a psychiatrist who has examined the three twice since their return, said the stress they are enduring now is "much heavier" than what they endured during their captivity in Iraq. Asked to name their three most stressful moments, the ex-hostages told him, in ascending order: the moment when they were kidnapped on their way to Baghdad; the knife-wielding incident; and the moment they watched a television show, on the morning after their return here, and realized Japan's anger with them.
"Let's say the knife incident, which lasted about 10 minutes, ranks 10 on a stress level," Dr. Saito said in an interview at his clinic today. "After they came back to Japan and saw the morning news show, their stress level ranked 12."
Beneath the surface of Japan's ultra-sophisticated cities lie the hierarchical ties that have governed this island nation for centuries and that, at moments of crises, invariably reassert themselves. The ex-hostages' transgression was to ignore a government advisory against traveling to Iraq. But their sin, in a vertical society that likes to think of itself as classless, was to defy what people call here "okami," or, literally, "what is higher."
To the angry Japanese, the first three hostages Nahoko Takato, 34, who started her own non-profit organization to help Iraqi street children; Soichiro Koriyama, 32, a freelance photographer; and Noriaki Imai, 18, a freelance writer also interested in the issue of depleted uranium munitions had acted selfishly. Two others kidnapped and released in a separate incident Junpei Yasuda, 30, a freelance journalist, and Nobutaka Watanabe, 36, a member of a pro-peace non-governmental organization were equally guilty.
Pursuing individual goals by defying the government and causing trouble for Japan was simply unforgivable. So the single government official to praise them was, not surprisingly, an American one.
"Well, everybody should understand the risk they are taking by going into dangerous areas," said Secretary of State Colin Powell. "But if nobody was willing to take a risk, then we would never move forward. We would never move our world forward.
"And so I'm pleased that these Japanese citizens were willing to put themselves at risk for a greater good, for a better purpose. And the Japanese people should be very proud that they have citizens like this willing to do that."
As an example of the unbridgeable gap between Japan and America, consider this comment by Yasuo Fukuda, the government's spokesman: "They may have gone on their own but they must consider how many people they caused trouble to because of their action."
The criticism began almost immediately after the first three were kidnapped two weeks ago. The environment minister, Yuriko Koike, blamed them for being "reckless."
