HKU Bulletin August 2010 (Vol. 11 No. 3)

18 The University of Hong Kong Bulletin 19 August 2010 Acts of God, or revealers exposing social problems real or imagined, natural disasters have been interpreted and explored in various ways throughout history. Frequently, they have provided fertile ground for religious zealots, politicians and social commentators intent on peddling their individual ideologies. The Great Kanto Earthquake that reduced Tokyo to a smouldering wreck in September 1923, leaving more than 110,000 dead, was no exception. DISASTERS AND opportunities The response to the Great Kanto earthquake of 1923 is a recurring theme throughout history. “It caused people to think about the state of the nation and on the nature of the city in profound ways. It was modern Japan’s first national trauma. People compared it to the First World War in Europe,” says Charles Schencking, Associate Professor and Chairperson of the Department of History. “It was described as Tokyo’s baptism by fire and Japan’s unprecedented national tragedy.” It compelled people to reflect on all aspects of life – religion, science, politics, urban planning, death and mourning. Sin cities In looking at major natural disasters around the world, the reaction – an act of God brought on by a society’s love of luxury, materialism, decadence, and hedonism – is not unusual. After Katrina hit Louisiana in 2005, people claimed that New Orleans was a sinful city replete with gambling, social degeneracy, crime, and debauchery. Select commentators suggested that Katrina was an act of divine intervention, brought about by a desire to clean up the city. “In terms of New Orleans those voices emanated from the margins and were distinctly religious, but in Tokyo in 1923 they came from individuals across the spectrum,” says Dr Schencking, who is in the final stages of completing a book entitled Japan’s Earthquake Calamity . “In Japan, people without strong religious convictions argued that society had become too materialistic, too hedonistic, too luxury minded following the First World War.” More than a few commentators claimed that the people had brought the calamity upon themselves through their decadent, selfish, and spendthrift practices. Elites used the earthquake to admonish the people and to compel them to become more frugal, serious, diligent, and sincere. Over the long run, it didn’t change peoples’ behaviours much. The consumption of items deemed luxuries by the government fell in 1925 due in large part to the introduction of a steep tariff (up to 1,000% in some cases) on items such as jewellery, perfume, cosmetics, cameras, and phonographic records. But by 1927, people were buying more luxuries than ever before, even with the tariffs. If people can afford luxuries they will buy them despite government proscriptions.” Earthquake nation Japan is often referred to as the ‘earthquake nation’ as it experiences 20 per cent of the world’s earthquakes of 6.0 magnitude and over each year. But the 7.9 magnitude Great Kanto Earthquake resulted in unprecedented death and destruction. Most of this was caused by firestorms that broke out across the city. One response was to try and turn a tragedy into an opportunity by constructing a modern, disaster resistant city from the ashes. Almost immediately, however, plans for a grandiose reconstruction were challenged. Rather than bonding the fragments of Tokyo, reconstruction plans opened new fissures throughout the city and within the political establishment: with opportunity came contestation. “When people developed large, expensive plans, many financial commentators claimed the nation could not afford such a reconstruction. Some suggested, in fact, that developing a great new city would ultimately be futile as it would only be destroyed again by a future calamity: Tokyo had been devastated by earthquakes and fire before in 1855 and 1703.” Shelving the grand plans For all intents and purposes, the grand plans were shelved and the city was rebuilt along previous lines. “Although a few structures such as schools, hospitals, and bridges became showcases of modernity, most of what was included in the grand plans never materialized.” “There is logic to the idea of an easily replaceable city and rebuilding the city as it stood prior to the disaster, but I’m of two minds about whether the failure of the grandiose reconstruction dreams were a good thing or a shame. Looking at it from the perspective of 80 years I think if the grand reconstruction plans had been followed, Tokyo would have looked and felt very modern, impressive, and in a sense, awe inspiring. In a way, I really feel for the big dreamers who were left disillusioned.” “But, on the other hand, the people who lived in the city didn’t embrace what planners had put forward. They fought against a total makeover of ‘their city’. The average landowner didn’t want to give up 20 to 30 per cent of his land to widen streets, build community centres, social infrastructure projects, or add green space to the capital. This was particularly true because so many landholders had lost so much and insurance failed to cover damage caused by earthquakes. People wanted to return to their normal lives, they didn’t want to sacrifice and then wait ten years for a city that would be totally foreign to them.” Dr Schencking credits this project with making him a different historian. “When I began this book, I focused on the reconstruction of Tokyo from a political and urban planning perspective. As I delved into the archives, I realized that this calamity cut across science, religion, economics, trauma, commemoration, and memory. It was a totalizing event for interwar Japan and its people. I started this book as a political and institutional historian but as I read more and more survivor accounts, I really found myself focusing on the human side of this calamity and what it, and the subsequent reconstruction meant for average Tokyoites. As I drew myself into the human side I realized I had to bring out the stories of ordinary people. It is a history from the top down and the bottom up. Dr Charles Schencking Research