We feel obliged to express our deepest dismay and sorrow of the Japanese authorities’ grotesque violation of his [Fischer’s] human rights and of international law.… As we protest in the strongest possible terms against your handling of this matter, we request immediate release of Mr. Robert J. Fischer.
Palsson began visiting Bobby at the jail and met with some of the Japanese officials to see what he could do. Having a representative there from Iceland, although Saemi wasn’t an official, helped Bobby somewhat to make a credible case that the country was considering asylum. The problem was that he wasn’t helping his own case.
Bobby continued making broadcasts, this time directly from the detention center’s pay telephone, and they went immediately on the World Wide Web. Most of his vitriol was directed toward the Jews (“absolute pigs”), with a slight softening of his invective against the United States. Although still unkind (“the whole country has no culture, no taste, it’s filled with pollution”), his anti-American remarks were tempered somewhat—though hardly enough to win points with the U.S. Justice Department.
Fischer then announced that he was going to marry Miyoko Watai, his longtime companion. “I could be a sacrifice pawn,” she said to the press. “But in chess there is such a thing as pawn promotion, where a pawn can become a queen. Bobby-san is my king and I will become his queen.” Shortly after that the couple was married in a private ceremony in the prison. John Bosnitch was a witness. But was the marriage ceremony legal? More than a year later, when asked by a reporter whether she ever “tied the knot” with Fischer, Miyoko replied, “I’d rather not say,” and then added, “I prefer not to talk about private things.” Immediately, the media began implying that the alleged marriage was just a ploy to help Fischer obtain his release and live in Japan, but Suzuki disagreed: “It was already a de-facto marriage,” she said. “Now it is a legal marriage. I have never seen a case where there is so much passion and devotion.” Miyoko was more forthright when she stated: “We had been satisfied with our life before he was detained. Marrying him legally may be helpful to avoid the possible deportation and enable him to get a permanent visa in Japan.”
Fischer, on the advice of the RJF Committee, wrote to Iceland’s foreign minister, David Oddsson, and requested a residence permit, which was forwarded to him immediately. The Japanese court didn’t accept it, though. If a country offered Fischer citizenship, they specified, they’d consider deporting him to that country. In the meantime, the Tokyo District Court issued an injunction to stay the deportation order on the grounds that a passport violation was not an extraditable offense. The final lawsuit against the deportation could take as long as a year. After months behind bars, it didn’t look as though Bobby could emotionally survive for much longer.
Almost every day Fischer’s team attempted a new strategy. He was encouraged to write a letter to the Althingi, the Icelandic parliament, and he composed a five-hundred-word plea, extracts of which follow:
Ushiku, Japan January 19, 2005
Althingi, The Icelandic Parliament
150 Reykjavik
Iceland
Honorable Members of Althingi:
I, the undersigned, Robert James Fischer sincerely thank the Icelandic nation for the friendship it has shown to me ever since I came to your country many years ago and competed for the title of World Champion in chess—and even before that.…
For the past six months I have been forcibly and illegally imprisoned in Japan on the completely false and ludicrous grounds that I entered Japan on April 15, 2004 and that I “departed” or attempted to depart Japan on July 13, 2004 with an invalid passport. During this period my health has steadily deteriorated, I’ve been dizzy for about the past two months now.…
When the Narita Airport Immigration Security authorities brutally and violently “arrested” me … I was seriously injured and very nearly killed. Furthermore it is surely not beneficial to my health either physically or psychologically that they’ve dragged me here to Ushiku which is only about 66 kilometers from the leaking Tokaimura Nuclear Power Plant (Japan’s Chernobyl!!) in Tokai City. They just had another accident there on October 14, 2004! …
Neither the Japanese nor the American authorities have ever bothered to offer any explanation whatsoever for this outrageously criminal act [his arrest]. Apparently, they’re strictly heeding Disraeli’s advice which was to “Never apologize, never explain!”
Because of all of the foregoing I would therefore like to formally request that Althingi grant me Icelandic citizenship so that I may actually enjoy the offer of residence in Iceland that your Minister of Foreign Affairs, Mr. David Oddsson has so graciously extended to me.
Most Respectfully,
BOBBY FISCHER
During his incarceration in Japan, the only respites Bobby had from boredom and emotional turmoil were the visits from his lawyers and Miyoko, and his use of the telephone. He was allowed out of his cell to make collect calls, and the jailers seemed to put no time limit on them. He talked with Palsson, and later he had long, wide-ranging conversations with Gardar Sverrisson, the Icelandic political scientist on the RJF Committee. These calls to Gardar were important to Bobby because they went beyond the complicated aspects of his imprisonment and touched on other matters, such as politics, religion, and philosophy. Bobby asked Gardar in what religion, if any, he’d been raised, and when he was told it was Catholicism, Bobby pressed for more insight, wanting to know the nuances of that theology. The two men created a tele-pal relationship, forming a bond that would last for years.
Bobby also discussed Catholicism with a second person during this time. Richard Vattuone of San Diego, California, was another attorney who was helping out with the case. He visited Bobby in the jail and gave him a copy of The Apostle of Common Sense, a book about the writer G. K. Chesterton, which covered various matters of religion and culture. Bobby read some of the book and had conversations with Vattuone about religion. Chesterton was a convert to Catholicism.
When Miyoko came to visit, often she’d have to wait to see Bobby if he had another visitor—such as Suzuki or Bosnitch—since the detention center only allowed one visitor at a time, and visiting hours were limited. Fischer would have to pass through sixteen locked doors before reaching the visitors’ room, and could only talk through a plate-glass wall, as if he were not just in an immigration detention center but a maximum security prison.
Three members of the RJF Committee—Einarsson, Thorarinsson, and Sverrisson—traveled to Japan at their own expense to see if they could find a way to expedite Fischer’s release. No matter what logic they offered to the authorities, such as the fact that Iceland’s foreign minister David Oddsson had issued Bobby a foreigner’s passport—similar to what is called a green card in the United States—the rules-conscious, bureaucratic Japanese were not persuaded. They continued to maintain that Bobby would be deported back to the United States once the legal proceedings were concluded.
The RJF members were about to leave Japan, depressed that they’d made little headway, when a call came in from Suzuki that bore potentially good news. A member of the Japanese parliament was willing to meet with the committee to see whether there was a way he could help. He’d studied the issues and sided with Bobby.
The meeting was held in secret, and the parliamentarian, who spoke perfect English, having been educated at Oxford, asked for anonymity, which he believed would enable him to better work behind the scenes. After he heard all of the arguments as to why Bobby should be released, and judged that the RJF members were committed to their cause, he went into action. Somehow he ignited the interest of Miszuko Fukushima, chairman of the Japanese Social Democratic Party. The goal was to get Fukushima to petition for Bobby’s right to be deported to—and accepted by—Iceland. Fukushima criticized Chieko Nohno, Japan’s minister of justice, for the arrest and detention, and asked him to reconsider the case. Although it was not a watershed moment, the current was beginning to shift, and as Bobby saw the accumulation of small advantages—a concept in chess described by Wilhelm Steinitz—he became optimistic, although not exhilarated.