Hiroshima, Shinto Worker’s State of Japan
The man I’m walking alongside is wrinkled and his hair completely white, but his back is unbent and he moves with a vigor rarely seen in men even half his age.
“The name scares a lot of people,” he says, “when they hear Shinto Worker’s State most of them must think that we’re some sort of theocratic communist dictatorship...but they’re wrong of course.” He’s referring to the name of his nation since 1997, when the current Prime Minister agreed with the Diet to officially change it. There’s a popular joke in Japan that the country might be a state, but it is neither Shinto nor full of workers.
“But most people keep on calling it Japan anyways.” The man, Ikkei Araya, is the President of Hiroshima’s chapter of the Shinto Club, which exists solely to celebrate Japan’s new name.
“Yes. They don’t appreciate how ‘Shinto Worker’s State’ rolls off of the tongue.” I think back and remember that there was a brief flurry of activity where many signs had to be replaced, informing visitors arriving in airports and shipping inputs all across the nation that they were now in the Shinto Worker’s State of Japan.
“It does sound very important.” Araya smiles. He is a retiree and freely admits that he has nothing better to do with his time than espouse the virtues of his nation’s title. Whether or not the club is a clever act of satire he refuses to admit.
“There were some concerns over whether or not it would impact religious tolerance,” Araya says, with some solemnity, “there are a lot of religious minorities in Japan. But the Diet agreed that there would be no laws made favoring Shinto over any other religion in Japan, and so the name ended up coming into being.” I nod and look out across the park that we’re walking through. The cherry blossoms have already bloomed but there are a few shriveled pink petals left over, scattered across the grass.
“I remember that there was a big advertisement campaign to sell the name, where they had Hindu, Christian, Muslim and Jewish citizens come forwards on television and say that they liked the name just fine.” Araya nods.
“And it worked. To this day there are the customary hundred odd complaints, a few freedom from religion organizations sue the government every year, but their cases are thrown out of court. The nation is happy with the name, maybe not as happy as me,” he laughs, exposing a dozen straight, white teeth, “but happy all the same. The name endures.” Araya’s smile seems perpetual, he hasn’t stopped since we first met for our conversation.
“Yes. But in a lot of other places this sort of thing wouldn’t stand.” That makes Araya stop smiling, instead he nods, like he’s contemplating a difficult chess move.
“That’s true. But Japan is a very interesting country. We’ve grown very religious...yet completely avoided theocracy.” We come to a small hill and Araya produces a telescopic cane from his pocket to aid him in the climb, expanding it with a flick of his wrist. The Japanese characters on the side presumably say that it was made in the Shinto Worker’s State.
“That’s true. Would you say it has more to do with the nature of Shinto itself or how Japan as a country works?” Araya nods.
“I don’t think that there’s a fundamental difference between the two. Shinto has played an enormous role in how Japan operates. We are not an inherently religious country, but we choose to be, and that benefits us greatly...in our times of need.”
“Times of need?” I ask as we begin our ascent.
“To fully understand you have to think of the Japanese view of nuclear weapons. For a long time we were the only nation that had ever had an atomic bomb used on us in anger.” I nod, Araya is old enough to remember those days, though he would have been a child when Hiroshima and Nagasaki were bombed.
“But that changed with the Sino-Soviet Exchange and the later conflicts.” Araya nods.
“I still remember when the bombing started. One moment I was with a client in my office, the next my boss poked his head in and told me very calmly, ‘Ikkei, the Chinese just got nuked.‘ Then he left the office and took his family out of the city for a few days. Now I can look back on that and laugh...the client looked completely terrified and I’m sure that I did too, but at the time it was the most frightened that I’d been in a long time. Not since the bombing raids during the war.” Araya smiles ruefully and notes my look of surprise.
“You have to find humor in things,” he says, somewhat sternly, “or else you’ll worry yourself sick. At first I fell into panic...I bought iodine pills, a thick rain slicker and a face mask...all of the gear for an atomic survival kit so that I could be ready for the fallout. I was alive when the first bomb hit Hiroshima and heard all the stories about how the fallout would fill the insides of your lungs with blood and punch holes in your cells. It was no joke to me, and I took it very seriously, going to and from the office each day wrapped in layers and layers of rubber and plastic so that not a speck of ash or radioactive snow would touch me.” I nod.
“That sounds like a good thing to do.” Araya shrugs.
“Sure. But I was still panicked, even months later, well into the winter, when there wasn’t any further danger of us getting nuked. But you see, while I was worried about being irradiated by fallout and wrapping myself with rubber and taking iodine pills by the fistful...I was killing myself with worry. My hair was going gray, I started to have stomach problems...me and my wife were fighting more than we had in years. I kept my job, which was very lucky with the economy as bad as it was, but I was a shadow of my former self.” We reach the top of the hill and Araya folds his cane back up, moving over to a nearby bench. The hill offers a commanding view of the rest of the park, and beyond it we can see the city of Hiroshima, a few electric trolleys moving through the streets, the sidewalks packed with pedestrians.
“But you clearly overcame that. What did you do?” Araya smiles slyly.
“This is where my story starts to have a point. I had a really bad fight with my wife one weekend and I got mad enough that I went on a long walk, wrapped up in my raincoat and gloves...I must have been quite a sight. But as I was walking I came across my local Shinto shrine, and on a whim decided to go visit. I was used to nobody really attending, but when I got closer I saw that there was quite a crowd, all made up of people who were just as scared of the Exchange as I was.” Araya points to a distant point in the park as he speaks and I can see the distinctive arch of a shrine over by the street, a few people stopped near it.
“And that was the first you saw of Japan’s religious revival?” Araya nods.
“Yes. At first I only stopped by the shrine occasionally, I was convinced that it would be useless. But eventually I was drawn in, and so were millions of others all across the nation. All religions in Japan underwent growth, but none so dramatic as Shinto...it’s really no surprise that we’re showing our dedication to it by putting it into our nation’s name...really the only thing that shocked me was how long it took.” Down below us there are at least a dozen people kneeling before the shrine, using bamboo dippers to pour water on their hands. Shinto does not make heavy usage of prayer but is instead more ritual based than many other major religions.
“Do you think that the growth of Shinto in Japan is intrinsically linked to hard times?” Araya hesitates for a moment before nodding.
“To a certain degree...yes. People like to find comfort when they’re lonely, frightened or hurt, and religion, whether it be Shinto, Christianity, Buddhism or Islam does help people to feel safer in what can be a very scary world. I personally believe that Japan would have come to terms with its Shinto roots with or without the Exchange and the Crisis, but those events definitely helped to make people realize just how important Shinto is.” It’s almost impossible to determine just how differently much of anything would have gone if the Exchange and the Crisis, amongst other events, had never happened, but the link between hardship and the growth of religious belief cannot be denied.
“When you first participated in the revival, did you think that it would get nearly as big as it did?” Araya nods emphatically, no hesitation whatsoever.
“Absolutely. I knew that I was participating in something very special. I’d gone to all the festivals as a kid and believed quite fervently in the kami back then, but my visits to the shrine and participation in Shinto tradition grew less frequent as I grew up. I had a job, I had a wife, I didn’t think I had any room for Shinto, but I was wrong. If you have room for doubt and worry in your life, then you have room for remedies, and Shinto is my remedy.” He sweeps his hand out, encompassing the entire city.
“This entire city...this entire country went through many harsh trials, not just during the Exchange and the Crisis, but since then...and we’ve always been able to work through them because of our faith. That is why I love the name of this country so much, it recognizes that we owe our wellbeing to Shinto.” Araya’s eyes are bright with devotion and he speaks with the excitement of a true believer.
“Would you say that Shinto is superior to any other faith?” Araya shakes his head.
“No. People are free to believe in what they want...and I don’t believe in proselytizing necessarily...what’s right for the people of Japan isn’t necessarily right for the people of other countries...I certainly wouldn’t expect the Arabians or the Europeans to embrace Shinto, they’ve already got Islam and Christianity as a blanket against their fears.” I nod, intrigued.
“But it is important to have some sort of faith.” Araya nods vigorously.
“Absolutely. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with not believing in a higher power or at least some form of advancement...like with Buddhism, but not believing in anything at all just seems so dark and empty...I don’t know how people cope with it.” Araya frowns at the thought but his smile returns almost instantly.
“Many people worry that Shinto may be taken for granted once again and that the number of faithful in Japan will fall. Do you foresee a decline in Shinto?” Araya nods, somewhat hesitantly.
“It’s happened before,” he allows, “and it could happen again. I don’t want to say that it could mostly because I feel that it wouldn’t be good for the nation...but it might. I just hope that people don’t forget about how important it is.” At this we get up again and make our way down the hill, to the Shinto shrine where Araya first rediscovered his faith all those years ago. Clothes with Shinto stylings on them have become popular in Japan and many of the people here to partake in the rituals are very fashionably dressed. The Shinto arch has become almost as popular as Mount Fuji for identifying Japan, and there has been talk in the Diet of emphasizing the importance of shrines in tourism literature.
We bow respectfully at the entrance of the shrine before heading in. There are some spaces available and so we kneel on the stone. The water in the basin is clear and I can see that there are filters in the bottom of the basin, neatly camouflaged with grey paint. I take a bamboo dipper in my right hand and pour water over my left hand before switching hands. Though there are a dozen people doing the same ritual with us, the shrine is very quiet, the only sounds the hum of trolleys and other solar vehicles passing on the street outside.
After the purification ritual is complete I follow Araya to the main body of the shrine. This being a public shrine we are allowed to wear our shoes, but in most Shinto shrines you may not wear footwear inside. At the shrine itself there is a small brass bell that both Araya and I ring before praying. I close my eyes and pray quietly to understand more about Shinto and other world religions, before opening them again. I leave a donation of five thousand yen, bow twice and follow Araya back out onto the street. The shrine attracts perhaps a tenth of the people who pass it at any given moment, which adds up to a truly stupendous number of people, especially given how outwardly secular Japanese society is.
“Thank you for taking me along,” I tell Araya, “that was quite an experience.” Araya flashes me his signature grin.
“And thank you for interviewing me. I’m glad that you’re putting this in your book, a lot of people overlook just how important Shinto is when they come to Japan, I’m glad that the truth is finally being seen.” And with that Araya and I part ways, the old man walking vigorously down the street before he is lost in the crowd. I head back to my hotel, I have to fly out in the morning, but make an internal note to stop by at least one more shrine before I go.
