Fishing for Stars (24 page)

‘Not in Japan. Our young men were exhausted by the war; they thought of themselves as a collective failure.’

‘Are you saying there is, or was, mass confusion? People, even the post-war generation, didn’t know how to respond to the new world they inhabited?’

‘In the West it is the individual who has a set of behavioural rules. Guilt, morality, ethics are all personal standards, the individual is responsible for his own behaviour. Our religion does not teach individual guilt or morality. In Japan collective behaviour is safe behaviour and correct behaviour, whereas individual behaviour is dangerous and leads to trouble. So the people collect into groups and it is these groups that make the rules and teach them, especially to the young, about how they must behave. And so we are able to embrace the new ways necessary to prosper and compete with the outside world while maintaining the essential character of our own culture.’

‘And the
yakuza
as a power group is not alien to Japanese society, but a part of it.’

‘Yes, you have it. For instance, the
yakuza
group I belong to is part of the
Yamaguchi-gumi
. We are the
Inagawa-kai
,
part of an alliance created by the honourable Yoshio Kodama. When we speak it is not one voice but four thousand voices in my region alone, and in all of Japan, many, many more. In this way we are seen as a legitimate power group by other power groups – banking, industry, manufacture, politics, agriculture, fishing and all the other sections of Japanese society. If there is a legitimate need for violence we supply it, or the threat of violence, then we prevent it. We will act in the name of the
yakuza
power group for whichever organisation requires our services.’

‘Legitimate need for violence?’

‘If one power group feels it has the need to discipline or exert its authority over a section of its own group, and it does not possess its own disciplinary force, it calls on us, the
yakuza
,
to act on its behalf.’

‘But what if the section of the group that is being “disciplined” by you still feels aggrieved and wants to retaliate? Who do
they
call upon?’

‘Us.’

I laughed. ‘But now you are acting for both sides? In effect disciplining yourselves?’

‘Ah, that is a good Japanese question,
Duncan-san
. That is my job, or the job of my honourable leader. He or I will decide which section of the group is to be supported.’

‘And that decision will be accepted by the disaffected group?’

‘That is the Japanese way. If they continue to object we will “persuade” them that it is pointless to resist.’

I was receiving a valuable insight into the
yakuza
, but perhaps more importantly into Japanese society. We, that is the West, always assume that democracy is a logical idea and its ways can be grasped without effort, particularly the rights of individuals, whereas this simply isn’t the case. The concepts of individual freedom and equal justice for all can seem quite bizarre to the Japanese.

‘But what about the conventional justice system, does it not play a part?’

‘It is there to interpret the law. We will always cooperate with it.’

‘As a criminal organisation, isn’t cooperating with the law a contradiction in terms? For instance, what about conventional crime – prostitution, sex bars, pinball and
pachinko
parlours, drugs, extortion?’

Fuchida-san
shrugged. ‘Those things, yes, they are always with us. They are a part of any big city. We control them. Crime is not for amateurs; we are professionals and the police are professionals. We negotiate. There is room for both.’

I must have looked puzzled because he went on, ‘
Duncan-san,
we try to maintain what you in the West would call the status quo, only it is more complex than that.’

‘But what if the status quo is not to the advantage of the group as a whole?’

‘Ah, another good question. If the status quo is not going to benefit Japan, the government must bring about change. The
yakuza
do not get involved at this level.’

‘But government and industry, it seems to me, are closely entwined. We have just negotiated a deal with Mitsubishi, and I understand that the present government has a strong working relationship with the shipping industry, almost a controlling influence.’

‘Yes, shipbuilding is a vital national industry.’

‘So, if there was a strike in the shipyards, would the
yakuza
be brought in?’

‘At the beginning, under the Americans, yes, that would happen, but not now that we are a strong democracy. The government will send the police or the military, unless it does not wish to be seen to be involved in limiting the democratic right of unions to protest, then the shipping company would call on us.’

‘With the government’s approval?’

‘Unspoken.’

‘And government and opposition parties, do the
yakuza
play a part in deciding who will be in power?’

Fuchida-san
seemed alarmed by such a notion. ‘No,
Duncan-san
, we are now a democratic nation! Of course, we have influence in every political group and do them many favours in return, as long as they are not communists or leftwing parties who encourage disruptive labour unions and cause strikes and interrupt our national progress.’ The
yakuza
boss paused for emphasis. ‘Japan
must
be competitive with the rest of the world. Every power group
must
accept this. We would
never
interfere with responsible and progressive government. But it is our duty to control those disruptive forces that want to endanger our prosperity.’

‘But labour unions are
meant to be the free voice of the workers, their way of being heard.’

‘Legitimate unions are acceptable, but if we had allowed the communists and their followers to control the unions, Japan would never have risen from its knees. If you receive a scratch or a cut you treat it immediately, you do not allow it to fester and make you sick.’

‘And rightwing groups such as your present government?’

‘Rightwing? That is just another term for democracy,
Duncan-san
. I am a patriot. Japan needs continuity,
not
disruption.’

I grinned. ‘In the West we would not agree with this definition of democracy.’

It was the wrong thing to say and I realised it was time to stop asking questions. It is commonplace in life that no matter how bizarre any group in society may be, it will find a way to justify its existence. Clearly my butterfly swap mate believed that his criminal organisation of thugs and standover men played an essential, influential and beneficial role in Japanese society.

I was also reluctantly forced to admit that, while everything he believed in was in direct opposition to my own political beliefs, nevertheless, a Japan with a regulated labour force and without industrial strikes was beginning to flex its industrial muscle and was already on its way to becoming one of the world’s leading economies. In fact, the early influence of the
yakuza
, heinous as it was, probably helped post-war Japan to recover and prosper. I was learning that pragmatism was the linchpin in Japan’s industrial success. But then, of course, pragmatism is not unknown in the West either.

I had one more question to ask. ‘
Fuchida-san
, if
yakuza
have such an accepted place in Japanese society, then why is it necessary for you to be so heavily protected . . . er . . . escorted?’

Again he laughed uproariously. ‘In the West it is called public relations. The people need to see that there is a
yakuza
presence, a
powerful yakuza
presence,’ he repeated. ‘It is like your Western politicians who must be seen to be out and about.’ He grinned. ‘Only we do it with a display of power and you do it by kissing babies.’

I laughed at his clever analogy. ‘But, in the hotel, people seemed to be genuinely fearful.’

‘No, no!’ he insisted. ‘Not fear, respect! Respect is very important; it is
everything
in our society.’

We had arrived at one of the more impressive high-rise buildings I had seen in Tokyo. Preceded by the two Toyotas, we passed through an electronic gate into the underground parking lot, the big Mercedes driving up to a private lift where the six lieutenants had disembarked. Three had already gone ahead and the others waited for it to return, carrying one of the original three riding shotgun to ensure it contained no surprises. The remaining two escort vehicles blocked the entrance to the underground car park.

If the extroverted public display in the hotel lobby was a perverted type of public relations, then why the elaborate measures involved in entering this building?

‘There is no need for public relations here, so why the precautions?’ I asked.

‘The Shield Society,’ he said, just as the lift arrived. ‘They want to bring back the
old
Japan. I tell you, all Japanese, myself included, are paranoid.’

While none of this made sense to me he explained no further and we entered the lift and rose in silence.

Fuchida-san
occupied the penthouse and, I was later to learn, the apartment immediately below that as well, converted into two dormitories and used as accommodation for his lieutenants.

The two
yakuza
lieutenants who had preceded us to the penthouse met us at the door of the lift. With a nod they immediately re-entered the lift and the doors closed behind them. We’d stepped directly into a large room where a
mama-san
, an elderly woman in a working day kimono, waited to greet us. She was an elderly, dumpy, flat-faced, crinkle-eyed woman without make-up, who from her general appearance seemed to be of peasant stock, except that hanging from her ears were what appeared to be diamond pendants of considerable worth, assuming they were genuine.

Fuchida-san
seemed to read my thoughts, or otherwise was accustomed to guests commenting, although I hadn’t remarked on the earrings. ‘Yes, diamonds,’ he pronounced. ‘I gave them to her for her seventieth birthday.’ He laughed. ‘At least we guessed it was her seventieth.’ He turned to address her. ‘You weren’t sure, were you,
Mama-san
?’ The old woman covered her mouth and giggled, shaking her head. ‘She has not taken them off since that day five years ago,’ he laughed. ‘Sometimes in the morning, when she brings me green tea, the shape of one of them is imprinted into her cheek.’

Turning back to me he said, ‘She has been with me since I was made
wakagashira
with Yoshio Kodama, when I was twenty-three. He sent her.’ He gave her a hard stare and said, ‘I think she was
really
a spy on the American payroll!’ She giggled again, this time shaking her head vigorously in protest. This was obviously a routine they often performed. ‘Come,
Duncan-san
, let me show you,’ my host volunteered. ‘Bring green tea,’ he ordered the
mama-san,
who it appeared was to go without either a name or a formal introduction to me, yet it was obvious the crime boss was fond of her.

I must say the penthouse was impressive, although I had expected
tatami
floors and paper screens, low tables and silk cushions. I was surprised by the immediate impression of smoked glass and chrome. The furniture – chairs, settees and low tables, with their framework of tubular chrome, plus the pristine glass surfaces – looked like a spread from an interior-design magazine. Even the floor appeared to be of polished black glass tiles. The whole effect was as formal as the foyer in a modern New York skyscraper, except for several antique Japanese silk screens, each of which blazed in yellows and reds, peacock blues and browns to warm and humanise the fashionably minimalist decor.

‘You like it?’
Fuchida-san
asked proudly. ‘It is American. The best interior decorator from Dallas, Texas.’

‘Yes, very nice,’ I replied.

He grinned. ‘It is the
new
Japan.’

We walked from the large room into another that was in complete darkness, the light from the open door penetrating no more than a couple of feet. ‘
Duncan-san
, you must walk twelve steps slowly towards the centre of the room.’ He hesitated momentarily. ‘No, you are too tall; for you only ten steps, then feel for a swivel chair, where you must be seated. Tell me when you are ready.’

I did as I had been told, not knowing what to expect. At nine steps I bumped into the leather swivel chair and sat down. ‘Do I face the door?’ I called out.

‘No, any way but that,’ he replied.

I swung the chair away from the direction of his voice and called out, whereupon the lights came on and I was dazzled by his astonishing collection of butterflies. Under single sheets of glass, from floor to ceiling on three walls of a large room, were literally thousands set out in family groups and regions. I would someday boast one of the world’s finest collections of the butterflies of the Pacific, and even then I had an impressive collection, but this was something else. There are around eighteen thousand species of butterfly, and on the walls around me there must have been butterflies from at least five thousand species. I grinned then laughed and clapped my hands. ‘Remarkable! Stunning! Impossible!’ I exclaimed. ‘I have never seen so many in a private collection!’