THE RACIAL POLITICS OF COMPARISON

Since at least the eighteenth century, racial classifications and hierarchies have been based in large part (although not exclusively) on visible physical characteristics, most notably skin color (Bernasconi and Lott, Reference Bernasconi and Lott2000). This approach reflected a tendency to biologize sociocultural differences and colonial relations of power. It was increasingly challenged in the second half of the twentieth century, when social scientists started defining race as a sociohistorical phenomenon rather than a biological fact. But the assumption that race is necessarily linked to “phenotype” persists to this day even in some of the most sophisticated sociological frameworks. For example, in their foundational work on racial formation theory, Michael Omi and Howard Winant ([1986] Reference Omi and Winant2015) forcefully argue that race is a social construct whose meaning varies across space and changes over time. Yet, they write that “there is a crucial corporeal dimension to the race-concept. Race is ocular in an irreducible way” (p. 13). They define race as “a concept, a representation or signification of identity that refers to different types of human bodies, to the perceived corporeal and phenotypic markers of difference and the meanings and social practices that are ascribed to these differences” (p. 111). This definition implies that anatomical differences inevitably undergird racial oppression—the latter qualifies as “racial” only insofar as phenotype serves as a tool of classification. Thus, while they usually do not consider other forms of social inequality and hierarchy (e.g. class, religion, ethnicity, caste, nationality) to be based on visible physical differences, many social scientists continue to attribute a central role to phenotype in their definitions of race and racism.

My goal in this article is not to argue that corporeal features play an insignificant part in racial formation processes. Colorism and other bodily hierarchies tied to global White supremacy and anti-Blackness clearly attest to the contrary. Rather, I contend that racism does not necessarily imply a reference to phenotype. If this were the case, anti-Korean oppression in Japan could not qualify as a form of racism, even though it is rooted in colonial domination and sustained by racialized discourses and practices. The history of Japanese colonialism and Zainichi Korean activism will show that social scientists should revise the role attributed to somatic features in current definitions of race. It will demonstrate that racism can rely on any markers that suggest belonging to a racially defined group, whether or not those markers are visible anatomical traits. In short, references to phenotype cannot serve to define “race” in a universal or transhistorical way.

To explore these issues, I attend to the racial politics of comparison. Specialists of racial politics in Japan have called for more comparative research on race, pointing toward latent U.S.-centrism and other limitations in the field of racial and ethnic studies (Hanchard and Chung, Reference Hanchard and Chung2004; Suzuki Reference Suzuki2017). While I am sympathetic to their call, I do not aim here to offer a systematic comparison of Zainichi Koreans and other minority groups like African Americans. Instead, I focus on the theoretical and political issues at stake in how scholars and activists compare racial minority groups. Comparisons between Japan and other colonial powers, or between Zainichi Koreans and other groups, are not purely intellectual exercises. They play a key role in debates about racial justice because of their concrete political implications. Different comparisons imply different choices as to which parallels to draw and which differences to highlight. These choices are in turn tied to conflicting views of what counts as racial domination and how best to resist it. As Ann Stoler (Reference Stoler2001) points out with regard to colonial history, “depending on how ‘the colonial’ is defined, both the possible terms of comparison and the issues are different” (p. 839). The same goes for how “the racial” is defined, whether it is located on the surface of the body or in less visible configurations of power that stem from modern colonialism and enslavement.

The approach I adopt here emphasizes both the perils and rewards associated with the practice of comparison (Felski and Friedman, Reference Felski and Friedman2013; Hong and Ferguson, Reference Hong and Ferguson2011). The tendency to use Blackness as a metaphor for all sorts of oppression is a problematic one, which can serve to deny the unique experiences attached to racial slavery and its legacies. Arguing that Zainichi Koreans are “like” Black Americans or, worse, that they are the “Black people of Japan,” risks obscuring distinctive aspects of these two groups’ respective experiences, as well as erasing the presence of African descendants within Japanese society. The point therefore is not to equate anti-Korean racism in Japan with anti-Blackness, nor to posit that the experiences of Zainichi Koreans and African Americans are perfectly commensurable, but to reflect on the purposes for which comparisons between these two groups have been made. These concerns stem from a “relational” understanding of racial formation which not only draws parallels between different cases but is also attentive to the ways in which these cases are connected to one another (Goldberg Reference Goldberg2009; Molina et al., Reference Molina, HoSang and Gutiérrez2019). As Shu-Mei Shih (Reference Shih2008) puts it, different “instances of racialization” exist within “a totality produced by the colonial turn,” and the history of modern colonialism “reveals potential and concrete relations” between each one of those instances (p. 1349; see also Shih Reference Shih, Felski and Friedman2013). Racial formation is best understood as a global historical process with distinct yet interconnected local manifestations.

My argument is divided into three parts. The first section addresses the history of Japanese colonialism. In the late nineteenth century, Japan created its own colonial empire based on European models. While some African American activists and intellectuals saw the Japanese empire as an ally in the fight against White supremacy, others recognized that colonial subjects like Koreans were bearing the brunt of Japanese domination. I trace this history while examining how historians have used race as a category of analysis to study Japanese colonialism. The second section discusses how scholars have interpreted the legacy of anti-Korean racism in postwar Japan. While most have likened the status of Zainichi Koreans to that of African Americans, some have used Korean Americans as an alternative point of comparison to emphasize the decline of anti-Korean racism in Japan. I examine how these debates relate to the racial politics of comparison. Finally, the third section explores the political effects of racial comparisons. I show how perceived similarities with Black Americans have shaped Zainichi Korean resistance and fostered political alliances between members of the two groups. While it does not suggest perfect commensurability, the capacity of certain comparisons to generate such alliances reveals tangible affinities. Ultimately, my analysis challenges definitions of race that are based on phenotype.

RACE AND JAPANESE COLONIALISM

Before discussing how Zainichi Koreans have been compared to other minority groups, it is important to situate Japanese colonialism in its historical context. In the early 1600s, the government of the Tokugawa implemented strict isolationist policies to limit the encroachment of European empires on Japanese sovereignty. These measures were effective at preventing the colonization of Japan. The country only had scarce contact with Western powers until 1853, when the United States sent warships that forced Japan to sign “unequal treaties” and to open its ports to international trade (Auslin Reference Auslin2004). The U.S. intervention triggered a period of political instability which led to the fall of the shogunate and to the Meiji restoration in 1868. While creating the structures of the new imperial state, Meiji leaders drew inspiration from European legal, political, and economic institutions. They established a capitalist industrial economy, set up a modern army, and adopted a constitution. Most importantly, they put Japan on the path toward developing its own colonial empire (Beasley Reference Beasley1987).

As is often noted, Japan is the only non-European country that both avoided being colonized by Europe and created its own colonial empire (Peattie Reference Peattie, Myers and Peattie1984). The formation of the Japanese empire resulted from a deliberate imitation of European colonialism (Tierney Reference Tierney2010). Japan first annexed the islands of Hokkaido and Okinawa during the 1870s in a process that amounted to settler colonialism. It then gained control of Taiwan in 1895, established a protectorate over Korea in 1905, and turned the latter into a colony in 1910. The colonization of Korea was directly inspired by European methods of conquest. In 1876, in a move that recalled the U.S. intervention of 1853, Japan used the threat of naval warfare to force Korea to sign unequal treaties and open its ports to trade. When it officially annexed the peninsula, the Japanese empire employed methods of political and economic subjugation similar to those of Western powers (Duus Reference Duus1995). It relied on international law to justify the legitimacy of its conquest (Dudden Reference Dudden2005) and developed strategies of cultural domination akin to those employed by other empires (Kal Reference Kal2005; Lee Reference Lee and Takezawa2011). It is in this context that the Japanese started to use racialized discourses and practices in their relations with Koreans and other conquered peoples.

Scholars have noted that the notion of race was virtually nonexistent in Japan before the second half of the nineteenth century, when contacts with Europe intensified (Duus Reference Duus1995; Kowner Reference Kowner and Sugita2016). Modern racism started spreading in Japanese thought and culture at that point in time, especially in the form of social Darwinism (Kawai Reference Kawai2015; Morris-Suzuki Reference Morris-Suzuki1998; Weiner Reference Weiner and Dikötter1997). Yet the extent to which Japan relied on racial ideology to justify its rule in Korea is a matter of debate. For those who think that racial classifications are necessarily based on phenotype, Japanese colonialism cannot be described as a racist enterprise (Zachmann Reference Zachmann, Berg and Wendt2011). The situation is further complicated by the fact that in the early twentieth century, the Japanese state had to contend with Western dominance on the international scene. Because they were classified as “Asians” in the White supremacist imagination, the Japanese were perceived as inferior to “Europeans.” In contrast to other colonial empires, in which Europeans ruled over people belonging to purportedly different racial groups, from a Western point of view the Japanese empire placed Asians in a position of power over members of the same racial category (Itagaki et al., Reference Itagaki, Mizutani, Tobe, Levine and Marriott2012). Aware of their ambiguous position in the international system, Japanese politicians and intellectuals sometimes tried to turn this situation to their advantage. They used pan-Asianism—the notion that “Asia” forms a single geographical, cultural, and racial entity—as an ideological justification for imperial domination. They thus stressed their cultural and racial proximity to Koreans and other East Asian peoples in order to portray their conquests as benevolent enterprises (Chae Reference Chae and Steinmetz2013; Ching Reference Ching and Chen1998). After World War I, at the 1919 Paris Peace Conference, Japan even pretended to champion the cause of racial equality against European colonialism (Shimazu Reference Shimazu1998). Depending on the political imperatives of the moment, the Japanese could either assert their racial superiority over other Asians or fashion themselves as proponents of pan-Asian unity in the face of Western dominance (Oguma Reference Oguma2002). This unique situation defined the “triangle structure” of Japanese colonialism (Tierney Reference Tierney2010, p. 21; see also Horne Reference Horne2003).

These dynamics help explain why, at the beginning of the twentieth century, many African Americans saw Japan as a counterforce to Western powers and as the “champion of the darker races” (Gallichio Reference Gallichio2000). Japan’s victory in the Russo -Japanese war (1904–1905), which opened the door to the colonization of Korea, was hailed by many Black Americans as a success for all peoples of color against White supremacy. In the following decades, Black intellectuals and activists frequently took part in “pro-Japan provocation,” cheering Japan’s victories in order to criticize the U.S. government (Onishi Reference Onishi2013, p. 21). W. E. B. Du Bois himself became one of imperial Japan’s most ardent supporters. After touring Japanese-occupied Manchuria in 1936, he made what has been described as “the most egregious, if temporary, political misjudgement” of his career when he expressed support for Japan’s colonial expansion in East Asia, failing to see through the Japanese state’s “racial propaganda” (Mullen Reference Mullen2004, p. 24; Onishi Reference Onishi2013, p. 73). At the time, Du Bois and others accepted the notion that Japan’s annexation of Taiwan, Korea, and Manchuria was a benevolent enterprise geared toward pan-Asian unity. As George Lispsitz ([1998] Reference Lipsitz2018) explains: “The African American encounter with Japan has been especially fraught with contradictions. In their zeal to identify with a non-white nation whose successes might rebuke Eurocentric claims about white supremacy, Blacks have often overlooked, condoned, and even embraced elements of Japanese fascism and imperialism” (p. 203). The problem with this support for Japan was of course that it ignored the plight of colonial subjects like Koreans, who bore the brunt of Japanese domination.

However, not all African Americans thought that the Japanese empire had the best interests of its subjects at heart. In the late 1930s, Black members of the U.S. Communist Party like Cyril Biggs and Harry Haywood questioned the benevolence of Japanese imperialists in their pamphlet, “Is Japan the Champion of the Colored Races?” (Gallichio Reference Gallichio2000). The poet and playwright Langston Hughes, who traveled to Japan in 1933, also criticized Japanese state propaganda, remarking that the portrayal of Koreans in the local press was similar to the treatment of Black Americans in U.S. newspapers. In his autobiography, Hughes (Reference Hughes1993) wrote: “It seemed that the Korean subjects of Japan were in somewhat the same position as Negroes in the United States in relation to newspaper coverage. Seldom was anything good about Koreans mentioned, but if one committed a crime, it was headlined with a racial identification tag included” (p. 276). For these critics, the experience of Koreans under Japanese rule pointed toward similarities with Africans Americans. These resemblances belied the fantasy of Japanese colonialism as a humane enterprise unburdened by racism.

In Race and Migration in Imperial Japan, historian Michael Weiner (Reference Weiner1994) makes a strong case for using race as a category of analysis to describe Japanese colonialism. For him, race is a sociohistorical construct that only took hold in Japan after the Meiji restoration. Inspired by the work of racial theorist Robert Miles (Reference Miles1982), Weiner describes racism as “a supportive ideology, which is the product of specific sets of unequal economic and political relationships, and which serves to explain and justify the continued existence of those relationships” (Weiner Reference Weiner1994, p. 10). From 1910 to 1945, the status of Korean migrants in Japan was shaped by colonial state policies and by their subordinate integration into the Japanese labor market. Since Korean migrants were subjected to harsher policing and exploitation than members of the dominant Japanese population, it is safe to say that they experienced a unique form of oppression. Whether this oppression was “racial” or not, however, depends on how one defines race itself. Scholars who attach the meaning of race to the appearance of the body prefer indefinite terms like “discrimination” to describe anti-Korean oppression in imperial Japan (Bayliss Reference Bayliss2013). But those who insist on the racialized nature of Japanese colonialism recognize that racism can rely on other markers than visible anatomical differences. The Japanese drew inspiration from European racial thought as they used terms like “race” and “ethnicity” (jinshu and minzoku) to distinguish themselves from their imperial subjects (Weiner Reference Weiner1994). This suggests that anti-Korean oppression can be seen as an instance of racism in Japan.

At first, the migration of Koreans to Japan was triggered by colonial policies that displaced them from their lands and limited their economic opportunities. By imposing a capitalist monetary economy, implementing new taxes and cadastral surveys, and seizing lands for the benefit of settlers, the Japanese state deprived many Korean peasants of their means of subsistence. Meanwhile, the industrialization of the Japanese economy created a demand for labor which only increased with the invasion of Manchuria in 1931, the start of the war with China in 1937, and Japan’s entry in the Asia-Pacific War in 1941. As Weiner (Reference Weiner1994) makes clear, the working and living conditions of Korean migrants in Japan were not the same as those of even the most impoverished Japanese workers:

Koreans who lived in Japan were also subjected to a “racially determined system of wage differentials,” being paid on average a third less than Japanese workers in the same occupations (Weiner Reference Weiner1994, p. 57). They served as a reserve army of labor in sectors such as mining, construction, and munition factories (Weiner Reference Weiner1994; see also Kawashima Reference Kawashima2009).

Throughout the colonial era, the exploitation of Korean workers was compounded with political control, repression, and policing. In times of social instability, like in the aftermath of the Great Kanto earthquake that ravaged Tokyo in 1923, migrants from Korea were scapegoated and hunted down by Japanese soldiers, policemen, and vigilantes who massacred more than six thousand of them (Weiner Reference Weiner1994). While Koreans were far from passive in the face of oppression, their resistance was met with strong repression. From 1939 to 1945, the Japanese government implemented a system of labor conscription that forced colonial subjects to participate in the war effort. Korean workers were sometimes brutalized by their supervisors, their strikes were broken down by the military police, and they were often deprived of their wages (Weiner Reference Weiner1994; see also Hisako Reference Hisako and Kratoska2005). Many Korean women were also coerced into sexual slavery in military brothels throughout the empire. In short, Koreans endured conditions of forced labor reserved for colonial subjects. For Weiner, their plight resembles that of “other immigrant groups” exploited on the basis of their nationality, race, or ethnicity (Weiner Reference Weiner1994, p. 211). They experienced every hardship commonly associated with modern forms of imperialism and racial oppression, except for being identified on the basis of visible anatomical features. Whether one uses race as a category of analysis to compare Koreans in Japan with minority groups in other societies therefore depends on what role one attributes to phenotype in definitions of race and racism.

ANTI-KOREAN RACISM IN POSTWAR JAPAN

After their military victory, U.S. forces occupied Japan for seven years (1945–1952). They imposed changes in the political and legal structure of the country, notably by adopting a new constitution and setting up a parliamentary system. They also oversaw the dismantling of the Japanese empire. While the settler colonies of Hokkaido and Okinawa remained integral parts of Japan, the country lost control over Taiwan, Korea, Manchuria and other territories. The Korean peninsula was placed under the shared supervision of the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. Most Koreans who had been forced to migrate to Japan returned to the peninsula, but out of almost two and a half million migrants who had left Korea before 1945, about six hundred thousand stayed in Japan. In the context of the Cold War, the split between North and South Korea had a strong impact even on those who stayed within the former imperial metropole, as political tensions led to factionalism in the local Korean community. After the Korean War (1950–1953), most Koreans in Japan aligned themselves with one of two competing organizations, Chongryon and Mindan, which respectively supported North and South Korea. The strongest of the two, Chongryon, maintained ties with Pyongyang and operated its own school system for Koreans in Japan (Ryang Reference Ryang1997). It acted more or less as a buffer against the discriminatory policies of the state, which did not recognize former colonial subjects as citizens with equal rights.

Since bodily differences could not serve to distinguish Koreans from the dominant population within Japanese society, other markers had to be used for discriminatory purposes. In the postwar era, citizenship policies became “the principal institutional device employed to sever Koreans from the Japanese body politic and quarantine them from potentially contaminating Japanese society and culture” (Chung Reference Chung2010, pp. 80–81). The state created a system of political and legal control that set Koreans apart from the rest of the population. Following the San Francisco Peace Treaty which put an end to the U.S. occupation, in 1952 Japan stripped its former colonial subjects of their nationality status and left them stateless. It became the only former colonial power whose citizenship policies are based on a strict principle of jus sanguinis, meaning that birthright citizenship is not recognized and the only path to citizenship—even for so-called “foreigners” born in the country—is to apply for naturalization (Chung Reference Chung2010). After 1952, Korean descendants were also subjected to the Alien Registration Law, which required them to register periodically with the authorities and to carry a special certificate of identification at all times. They became referred to as Zainichi, a word which connotes their “resident” status. With these policies, the Japanese state effectively equated nationality with racial and ethnic identity. By excluding former colonial subjects from the body politic, the country could portray itself as a culturally and racially homogenous nation (Befu Reference Befu2001; Oguma Reference Oguma2002; Yoshino Reference Yoshino1992).

These changes point toward important social and political transformations in the postwar era. Japan went from being an expansionist empire built on a notion of “pan-Asianism” to being an exclusionary nation-state cherishing its purported homogeneity. Korean migrants also went from being colonial subjects recognized as Japanese nationals to being stateless “residents” of Japan (Chee Reference Chee1982). Despite these changes, there were clear continuities in the status of Korean migrants and their descendants. Being relegated to less prestigious economic sectors, living in substandard housing conditions, and being subjected to intense policing were ongoing realities for Zainichi Koreans. Contemporary observers noted how little “race relations” had changed after the war (Wagner Reference Wagner1951). For many, this situation invited comparisons with African Americans. Scholars involved in the early development of Black Studies in Japan emphasized similarities between the two groups (Onishi Reference Onishi2013), as did U.S. specialists of Japanese society (De Vos Reference De Vos1992; De Vos and Wetherall, Reference De Vos and Wetherall1974; Lee and De Vos, Reference Lee and De Vos1981; De Vos Reference De Vos1992). As I explain below, Zainichi Koreans also likened their status to that of Blacks Americans to advance their struggle for liberation. Yet, the experience of Korean Americans has provided an alternative point of comparison to interpret the legacy of anti-Korean racism in postwar Japan.

The situation of Korean Americans has usually served as a foil for specialists of Zainichi Korean history. It has been used to highlight the divergent paths taken by people coming from the same country of origin in different host societies. Compared with Zainichi Koreans who are perceived as having “done so poorly” in Japan, Korean Americans are often said to have performed “extremely well” in U.S. society (De Vos Reference De Vos1992, p. 179; see also De Vos and Kim Reference De Vos, Kim, Light and Bhachu1993). The latter have historically been one of the only minority groups “whose academic achievement surpasses that of the majority whites” in the United States (Lee Reference Lee, Gibson and Ogbu1991, p. 131). Their socioeconomic position has been similar to that of Japanese Americans, with “much higher achievement levels than those of blacks” (Lee Reference Lee, Gibson and Ogbu1991, p. 162; see also De Vos Reference De Vos1992). In Japan, by contrast, the gap between Koreans and Japanese has been more pronounced, with Korean achievement levels being “surprisingly similar to those of blacks in the United States” (Lee Reference Lee, Gibson and Ogbu1991, p. 162). Put this way, the description of Korean Americans risks falling into the trap of the “model minority” stereotype. It is crucial to remember that Asian Americans are also the targets of discrimination in the United States, making it harder for them than it is for Whites to transform academic credentials into economic and political power. But it is still relevant to recognize differences in status between Koreans in the United Staes and in Japan. Zainichi Koreans are descendants of colonial subjects who were forced to migrate to Japan, whereas most Korean Americans migrated voluntarily to the United States (Lee Reference Lee, Gibson and Ogbu1991). The two groups have been subjected to different citizenship policies, with Koreans in Japan being made stateless in 1952 and Korean Americans being given access to U.S. citizenship from 1952 onward (Chung Reference Chung, Ryang and Lie2009). These facts suggest that Korean descendants occupy a lower position in Japanese society than they do in the United States.

However, not all scholars agree with this contradistinction. In Zainichi (Koreans in Japan): Diasporic Nationalism and Postcolonial Identity, sociologist John Lie (Reference Lie2008) argues that Zainichi Koreans and Korean Americans are more alike than scholars usually admit. He writes that “considerable convergences” characterize the experiences of the two groups (p. 190). For him, “Zainichi historiography exaggerates the involuntary character of Korean immigration to Japan” (Lie Reference Lie2008, p. 190). The author insists on the gradual reconciliation of Zainichi Koreans with the dominant Japanese population, as he stresses their ideological, political, and socioeconomic resemblances with Korean Americans. Interestingly, Lie’s views about comparisons are compounded with a historical account that posits “the decline of colonial racism and its legacy” (Reference Lie2008, pp. 146–147). He writes that “the status of an ethnic group is correlated with the standing of its home country,” and that the situation of Zainichi Koreans has improved along with that of South Korea since the 1960s (Lie Reference Lie2008, p. 149). Therefore, he downplays the persistence anti-Korean oppression in postwar Japan and even claims that in some cases, Zainichi Korean identity has been transformed from a “stigmatized status” to a “privileged position” (Lie Reference Lie2008, p. 151). He also diagnoses the integration of Korean descendants into the Japanese economy despite admitting that most of them are self-employed or working for other Zainichi Koreans. In another book, Lie argues that the concept of systemic racism does not apply to Japanese society, where isolated individuals may be racist, but institutions are not (Lie Reference Lie2001). These arguments contrast with his work on U.S. society, where he recognizes the reality of systemic racism against both African Americans and Korean Americans (Abelmann and Lie, Reference Abelmann and Lie1995). When it comes to Koreans in Japan, however, the author adopts an optimistic view of historical progress that stresses ruptures with the colonial past.

By contrast, in Divided Fates: The State, Race, and Korean Immigrants’ Adaptation in Japan and the United States, sociologist Kazuko Suzuki (Reference Suzuki2016) draws a clear distinction between Zainichi Koreans and Korean Americans, as she examines how different contexts of reception have shaped the experiences of these two populations. As she states in her introduction, “the more I study about American racial/ethnic relations, the more analogies I find between the social position of Zainichi Koreans and that of African Americans, rather than with Korean Americans in the United States” (Suzuki Reference Suzuki2016, p. xx). Drawing on the work of Robert Blauner ([1972] Reference Blauner2001), who distinguished the forms of oppression affecting colonized groups and other migrants, Suzuki insists that Koreans are a “colonized migrant group” in Japan, whereas they are “typical voluntary immigrants” in the United States (Suzuki Reference Suzuki2016, p. xxvii). Their different “modes of incorporation” have given them a different position in the socioracial hierarchies of each country (Suzuki Reference Suzuki2016, p. xxix). While the author recognizes the extent of Zainichi Korean economic mobility, she refrains from adopting a linear narrative of integration into Japanese society. Instead, she shows that upward class mobility has taken place amidst ongoing marginalization. She contends that the enrichment of some Korean descendants is an effect of their relegation to economic sectors that can be lucrative but are also disreputable, like the slot machine (pachinko) industry, barbecue (yakiniku) restaurants, and parts of the sex industry. Hence, economic capital does not translate as easily into prestige for Zainichi Koreans as it does for members of the dominant Japanese population (Suzuki Reference Suzuki2016). Together, Lie’s and Suzuki’s books illustrate what I call the racial politics of comparison. They show how different comparative strategies can be tied to conflicting interpretations of racial domination in the work of scholars. The following section addresses the political implications of racial comparisons by examining connections between Zainichi Korean activism and the Black liberation struggle.

ZAINICHI KOREANS AND BLACK LIBERATION

Since their postwar disenfranchisement, Zainichi Koreans have used various means of resistance to defend their rights and protect themselves from abuse. As previously mentioned, they have formed associations like Chongryon that offered services to the community. Hiding their ancestry has been another common survival strategy. In a context where there are no clear bodily differences separating descendants of colonial subjects from the dominant population, opportunities for “racial passing” are increased (Chung Reference Chung2010). Since Zainichi Koreans speak Japanese fluently and often use Japanese aliases in public to avoid revealing their ancestry, their nationality status is one of the only markers that sets them apart from the Japanese population. In this context, applying for naturalization may provide an avenue for integration, but it is a costly and cumbersome process involving lengthy investigations and a great deal of discretion on the part of state authorities (Chung Reference Chung2010; Suzuki Reference Suzuki2016). It is indeed a “racialized process” that opens the door to various forms of discrimination (Arudou Reference Arudou2015, p. 83).

In addition to individual strategies of resistance, Zainichi Koreans have confronted systemic discrimination head-on through activism and protest. As they tried to make sense of their condition and enlist the support of allies, members of the community often drew parallels between their situation and that of other minority groups. An example of how Zainichi Koreans have identified with global anticolonial struggles is found in an interview with author and activist Pak Sunam (Reference Pak1970): “I have a copy of Frantz Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth here with me and I find that what he says is exactly what we have been saying about ourselves. We feel that Fanon is a brother. He speaks the same language as we do, especially when he refers to violence and the question of national culture and ethnic consciousness” (p. 49). Reflecting on similarities between Zainichi Koreans and other colonized peoples, the interviewee noted the effects that systemic discrimination and cultural assimilation were having on the formation of Korean identity in Japan. Her observations prompted her to recognize Frantz Fanon, a Black Martinican man who fought for the Algerian Revolution, as the “brother” of Koreans in Japan. Imagining political kinships of this kind allowed Zainichi Korean activists to break their relative isolation and connect themselves to a global community of struggle.

In many instances, transnational solidarities took on concrete forms. In Reinventing Citizenship: Black Los Angeles, Korean Kawasaki, and Community Participation, American Studies scholar Kazuyo Tsuchiya (Reference Tsuchiya2014) gives an account of the intellectual and political ties that have connected Zainichi Koreans to the U.S. Civil Rights and Black Power movements. Her work offers a comparison of welfare activism among Zainichi Koreans in Kawasaki and African Americans in Los Angeles throughout the 1960s and 1970s. While she recognizes the specific experiences that these two groups have had with different states and welfare policies, Tsuchiya also highlights crucial resemblances. For example, she remarks that Black liberation theology has provided a “language” for Zainichi Koreans to address their marginalization (Tsuchiya Reference Tsuchiya2014, p. 2). This shared language served as a basis to establish contacts with religious leaders involved in the Black liberation struggle. During the Cold War, when the Zainichi Korean community was sharply divided along ideological lines, the Korean Christian Church in Japan provided a vehicle for grassroots activism and “inter-racial cooperation” (Tsuchiya Reference Tsuchiya2014, p. 122). Reverend Lee In Ha, the leader of the Kawasaki Church, was at the forefront of struggles for welfare, education, and civil rights. Reverend Lee is sometimes referred to as the “Martin Luther King, Jr. of the Korean civil rights movement” in Japan (Chung Reference Chung2010, p. 99). One of the services provided by his church was an “ethnic nursery” aimed at promoting political consciousness and countering the sense of cultural alienation among young Zainichi Koreans. Lee was also the director of the Research-Action Institute for Koreans in Japan (RAIK), which conducted surveys and studies on the situation of Korean descendants (RAIK 1975, 1990).

Reverend Lee’s endeavors were inspired by the teachings of James H. Cone, whose publications made a major impact on Black liberation theology at the turn of the 1970s (Cone Reference Cone1969, Reference Cone1970). In his work, Cone adopted a broad conception of Blackness, which he defined as an “ontological symbol and a visible reality” attached to certain experiences of oppression, rather than an essential property of African descendants (quoted in Tsuchiya Reference Tsuchiya2014, p. 127). This definition was appealing for Zainichi Korean activists, who drew inspiration from the Black liberation struggle even if they did not bear visible markers of racial difference on their bodies. In 1975, Lee made arrangements to receive Cone in Japan. According to Tsuchiya, who interviewed Cone in 2010, during his travel the theologian “came to realize that what black people had gone through in the U.S. was actually quite similar to what zainichi Koreans had endured” (Tsuchiya Reference Tsuchiya2014, p. 127). Lee and Cone also strove to unite Zainichi Korean theology, known as “sojourner theology,” and Black liberation theology into a “common antiracist cause” (Tsuchiya Reference Tsuchiya2014, p. 128).

Further parallels between the struggles of Zainichi Koreans and African Americans emerged in the course of political action. In 1970, the Hitachi employment discrimination trial marked the beginning of a new era of antiracist activism in Japan (Chung Reference Chung2010; Tsuchiya Reference Tsuchiya2014). The case involved a young Zainichi Korean man who had obtained a job at Hitachi until the firm learned of his nationality status and canceled his employment. The man filed a lawsuit for discrimination and his case quickly became a rallying cause for Koreans in Japan. A committee was formed to assist him in his legal battle and over the course of a few years, he received the support of thousands of activists as well as national and international church organizations. The events would not have unfolded this way if, like most Africans Americans, Zainichi Koreans had been identifiable on the basis of phenotype. It is likely that the young man would never have been hired by Hitachi if the firm had been aware of his Korean ancestry in the first place. But Reverend Lee and other activists involved in the trial drew analogies between their campaign and the fight against racial segregation in the United States, comparing the Hitachi case to the Montgomery Bus Boycott. According to Tsuchiya, Lee was instrumental in “translating” the Hitachi case into the language of struggles for “racial and ethnic equality on a supranational scale” (Reference Tsuchiya2014, p. 132). His position as a vice chairperson for the World Council of Churches’ Program to Combat Racism put him in direct contact with U.S. Civil Rights leaders such as Andrew Young. In his conversations with African American activists, he argued that racism was not strictly a matter of discrimination on the basis of skin color, since Korean descendants were also the targets of racial oppression in Japan. When Hitachi lost the trial in 1974, young Zainichi Koreans seized the momentum to create Mintoren, a civil rights organization dedicated to fighting racial and ethnic discrimination. The trial had provided Kawasaki activists with “a framework for voicing alternative visions of citizenship” (Tsuchiya Reference Tsuchiya2014, p. 140). Taking advantage of a progressive municipal administration, they expanded the ethnic nursery program to create what became known as the “Kawasaki system” of welfare. Zainichi Korean women were also at the forefront of efforts to secure education services for children of the community (Tsuchiya Reference Tsuchiya2014). Hence, the struggles of the 1970s pushed many Korean descendants to redefine their position within Japanese society.

Another political protest that invited analogies with the Black liberation struggle was the anti-fingerprinting movement that gained steam in the 1980s. As mentioned above, the Japanese 1952 Alien Registration Law had required disenfranchised Koreans to register periodically with the authorities and carry a special identification at all times. From 1952 to 1982, all “foreigners” over fourteen years old had to submit their fingerprints to the police every three years. In 1982, the age requirement was raised to sixteen years old and the renewal period extended to five years (Chung Reference Chung2010). Zainichi Koreans strongly resented and resisted these forms of control. Interestingly, their participation in the anti-fingerprinting movement overlapped with the fight against apartheid in South Africa. Zainichi Korean activists and foreign scholars sympathetic to their cause pointed toward similarities between Japan’s Alien Registration Law and South Africa’s apartheid system to describe the situation of Koreans in Japan as a “hidden” or “subtle” apartheid (Hicks Reference Hicks1997; RAIK 1990). For instance, they remarked that Zainichi Koreans’ certificates of identification had the same size and shape as the passbooks carried by Black South Africans. Like Zainichi Koreans, the latter were also fingerprinted from the age of sixteen onward. Indeed, the main discriminatory laws of the two countries had been adopted and revised at the same time, suggesting that the Japanese and South African states were drawing inspiration from one another (RAIK 1990). To make sense of their situation, Zainichi Koreans employed the sociological framework of “internal colonialism,” which was being used both by African Americans and Black South Africans (RAIK 1990; see also Blauner [1972] Reference Blauner2001; Gutiérrez Reference Gutiérrez2004; Wolpe Reference Wolpe, Oxaal, Barnett and Booth1975). They also enlisted the support of Black American political leaders such as Jesse Jackson, who visited Osaka in 1986 (RAIK 1990). As Tsuchiya (Reference Tsuchiya2014) writes, “Black liberation struggles and the zainichi pursuit of citizenship were not only parallel movements from which a comparison could be drawn, but they were also linked with each other” (p. 169). Perceived similarities generated concrete dialogues and alliances between minority groups in spite of linguistic differences, geographic distance, and the fact that Zainichi Koreans who were deprived of a passport had limited transnational mobility.