Tokyo: Trans Pacific Press, 2021. xiv, 230 pp. (Tables, B&W photos.) US$41.95, paper. ISBN 9781920901851.
Amorphous Dissent examines what the authors term the “huge upswell of social movements” in Japan after the earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear meltdowns of March 11, 2011. They see these movements as a new phenomenon in Japan, distinguishing them from earlier movements, especially the hierarchically organized movements of the 1960s. These amorphous social movements, the authors argue, have “non-hierarchical,” “non-organizational,” and “non-ideological” tendencies (xi). They are based on independent individuals—“diverse and disparate people” (7)—who use “horizontal communications” and social networking services such as Twitter to mobilize for specific causes like anti-nuclear power rallies, anti-hate speech campaigns, and protests against the conservative government. The new movements apparently employ “fresh styles of disobedience” and their modes of action are more playful, fun, and festive compared to the serious protest of old. For the authors, the amorphous movements are themselves a product of Japan’s increasingly amorphous society, born in the years of stagnation after the bursting of the economic bubble in the early 1990s.
For an edited volume the book is quite compact (probably because it grew out of a conference panel), comprising a general introduction, a chapter conceptualizing “amorphous dissent,” a chapter on what post-3.11 movements have changed, followed by three case studies of amorphous movements. The case study on the Amateur Revolt movement sits nicely in this theoretical framework, but I was less clear about how the detailed case study on anti-US military base protest in the Okinawa chapter fit. And the third case study on hate speech seems more interested in political theory than explaining the actual movement. Nonetheless, these case studies are well written and interesting, if somewhat tangential.
In general, I am in agreement with the authors’ treatment of post-3.11 social movements. They do a good job of emphasizing just how different these movements are from the hierarchical organized movements of the past. That said, I cannot help but feel that the authors may be drawing too sharp a historical disjuncture before and after 3.11. More specifically, in the wake of the social movements of the 1960s and early 1970s many new movements based on individual participation, loose organization, and even enjoyment actually proliferated throughout Japanese society, although they may have been invisible. In the 1970s, for example, many former student activists began to form loose alliances around issues such as the environment and organic farming; women organized in the spaces of daily life around food safety, consumption, and healthy living spaces; and some activists began to form connections with activists throughout Asia. Like the amorphous movements of the present, these movements intentionally distinguished themselves from serious protests of the past. Moreover, in the days before the Internet, and particularly in the 1980s, independent groups began a proactive networking movement which in many ways can be seen as the “analogue” antecedent to the social media-led movements of the present. In short, the post-Fukushima movements may not be as new as the authors claim. What differs is the role of new technologies like Twitter which make it possible for networking to happen on national and global scales, and for people to participate virtually—none of this was possible even in the 1980s. Indeed, this instantaneous digital interconnectivity may be one of the most distinguishing factors of the new movements, and my sense is that this interconnectivity may be playing an important role in shaping the amorphousness. While the volume notes the use of digital networking technologies, I think there is a lot more work to be done in this area in relation to Japanese social movements.
The other question that occurred to me as I read the volume was about what these movements signify. Numerous times, the authors refer to the “great frequency” with which large demonstrations are occurring in Japan after having been invisible (i.e., not happening) for a great many decades (81). There is no doubt that Japan witnessed some large demonstrations against nuclear power after the disaster in 2011 and again following the passage of security legislation in 2015, but I am not convinced this is representative of an upsurge or part of any kind of new “protest cycle”—the occurrence seems too sporadic. So, what are these amorphous movements producing as a result of their action? What role do they play? There is no doubt that movements protesting nuclear power or hate speech are broadcasting important messages to Japanese society otherwise not expressed in politics or the mainstream media. What impact this is having on societal values or policy is less clear—I suspect not much.
Nonetheless, the amorphous movements may be doing more for their own participants than anyone else. Describing antinuclear protests following the Fukushima disaster, Kinoshita Chigaya notes that it was “not necessarily the case that most of the participants in these demonstrations and rallies endorsed the appeals, demands, or styles of the organizers. People were instead looking for an ‘opportunity’ to express the feelings of hopelessness … following the earthquake … and to find others with whom to share their distress and pain” (70–71). Furthermore, Kinoshita notes that in these movements “there is no firm idea regarding the goals that ought to lie at the end of this path or even when they might be achieved” (78). Discussing the individuals in the Amateur Revolt movement, Tanaka Hikaru notes that the aim of “key movement members was the creation of a community lifestyle based on the ideal of ‘here and now’” and the “creation of alternate value systems and mindsets” (114). My hunch is that a key role of these new movements is helping atomized (amorphous) individuals create communities with likeminded others; once connected they sometimes build alternative structures. Their movements seem to serve mostly as vessels for members to share their frustrations about society and occasionally to vent these frustrations in a public way. If socioeconomic or political change results, then all the better, but this may not be the main objective of the movements. In fact, I suspect that members would be skeptical as to the socially and politically transformative capacity of their movements, although this question is not asked in the volume.
Simon Avenell
The Australian National University, Canberra