I. A TALE OF TWO TERRORISTS

On November 25, 1970, the internationally famous writer Mishima Yukio, a frequent nominee for the Nobel Prize, shocked the world by committing an act of suicidal terrorism. With a half dozen members of his private army, the ‘Shield Society’, he entered the office of the commanding officer of a Tokyo military base and forcibly took him hostage – delivering sword blows to some other officers in the process. Then he coerced the commander to call an assembly of his troops on the parade ground outside. While helicopters hovered noisily overhead, almost drowning out his words (the media-savvy Mishima had summoned the Press that morning to record what he called his ‘little show’), he stood precariously perched on the balustrade of a balcony high above the assembled troops and harangued them at the top of his voice. If he had fallen off at that point, as seemed quite likely, his ‘attempted coup’ would have come to the abrupt and farcical ending that perhaps it deserved. But, luckily for Mishima, he kept his balance, and for ten minutes or so tried to incite the troops to rebel against a ‘corrupt’ government that had consigned them to the ‘shameful’ status of a mere ‘self-defense force’ – in such sad contrast to their proud erstwhile role as the ‘Imperial Army’, the shield of the divine emperor and the scourge of all his enemies. It was as if he were addressing a pathetic paper tiger that had been de-fanged and de-clawed, imploring it to recover its fighting spirit.

No doubt Mishima knew beforehand that it would be a hopeless attempt; in fact, he had already made meticulous plans for what he would do next.