Within this rigidly regimented society, no one could be self-made. Thus the competitive, adventurous Japanese of the sixteenth century became, by the nineteenth century, a docile people depending mainly on their rulers for leadership and following all orders from above with few questions. They grew accustomed to firmly established patterns of conduct, and found their ways in accordance with the traditions of their culture.
Out of this traditional background developed four cultural distinctions: (1) group-directed individualism, (2) pragmatic religion, (3) rank-consciousness, and (4) feudalistic capitalism. These are modern Japan's inheritance from the past isolation and feudalistic control. We shall now examine each one of them.
Group-Directed Individualism
Various social phenomena give evidence to the fact that "group-directed individualism" remains a cultural distinction in present-day Japanese society. This may be called a "spirit of the governed"—people preferring "mutual dependence" within a group to the autonomous exercise of individual rights and duties.
This spirit was fostered in the Japanese character during the long feudal age when people were subjected to the iron rule of the sword. It is the mother institution responsible for the passive attitude of the Japanese toward authority today.
There is a saying passed down from the Tokugawa era: "Nagai mono niwa makarero." ("No matter what you say to your superiors, you have no chance of winning. So if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Don't go against the tide.") The best policy for individuals is to go along with the direction established by the governing authorities, or to follow the consensus of the group. Yet the Japanese people find individual satisfaction in this group-directed lifestyle, owing to their belief that the prosperity of the group brings them a personal benefit to live on. This is Japan's inheritance from the Tokugawa society—the belief that the virtues of self-sacrifice and self-effacement are not necessarily incompatible with those of self-assertion and interior self-possession and that self-respect exists in the successful devotion of oneself to the group.
These traditions have enabled the Japanese people to live together in their cramped islands with relatively few outward signs of friction and violence. Nowhere in the world is govern-ability more apparent among all classes in all situations than in Japan. In other words, few other civilized peoples are so dependent upon instructions or directions from above and on long-established rules of the group. The Japanese, if forced to rely on their own judgment away from their normal group-directed environment, will probably be more at a loss than peoples accustomed to greater individual freedom of action.
Sumo Wrestling
Sumo is the spectacular national sport of Japan, highly popular among visitors from foreign countries. Even here, in this one-on-one contest, the forces of group-directed individualism come into play.
A sumo bout gets under way with a series of ceremonial deeds. The yobidashi kotetsu (sumo announcer) stands in the center of the sand-made dohyo (ring) and calls the names of two wrestlers. One from the east side and one from the west side show up on the dohyo. Following an initial stamping of feet at the edge of the dohyo, the wrestlers pick up a handful of salt, scatter it about to purify the ring, and squat down facing each other at a respectful distance in the center of the arena. (The arena is the inner, round boundary within the square ring.) The referee keeps a watchful eye on them while barking out words of instruction.
After this ritual, the wrestlers crouch down, their noses almost touching the sand, pound the floor with their fists, and glare at each other. This set pattern, called shikiri, is repeated for four minutes. It is during these "four-legged" animal posturings that each wrestler seeks to read what is on the other's mind— whether his rival appears likely to spring at once to the attack or to try to ward off his opponent's onrush. Sumo starts with such psychological warfare. When time is up, the referee and the wrestlers are informed. The prebout proceedings are over. The referee crouches down, gives the word, and the contestants spring toward each other. This is the tachi-ai (initial clash). Then the bout begins.
The Japanese attach absolute importance to the initial clash, not only in sports but in any event of life. They believe in general that a man who is late in the initial clash usually goes down to defeat, because in their national sport, sumo, the wrestler who is up first in tachi-ai can usually direct the course of the bout as he pleases, putting his opponent on the defensive and often dominating him.
A sumo bout may be won either by ejecting one's opponent from the arena or by downing him inside the arena. In the former case, a wrestler goes down to defeat if so much as a toe is over the edge; in the latter case, the bout is lost if any part of the body above the feet hits the sandy dirt. The 48 recognized techniques for winning are almost impossible to translate, for a rival may be thrown, pushed, pulled, slapped, crushed, and so on, either down or out. The referee decides the winner immediately.
The bout is vigorously competitive within the narrow arena. Two gigantic bodies tackle at full capacity, hurtle through space, and fall down with a thud somewhere in the ring. It is often difficult for the referee to determine the winner. Occasionally one behemoth is thrown beautifully out of the arena while his opponent remains inside it. In such a case the winner is apparent in the eyes of spectators. However, there could be a critical moment that alters the outcome. For example, if a wrestler steps even a third of an inch outside the arena before sending his rival out of the arena, he would be the loser. The referee has to keep his eyes wide open so as not to miss these delicate points. But a referee is only human, and of course makes mistakes sometimes.
In most sports in the world, the referee or umpire is sup posed to efface himself, making his decision impartially while maintaining control of the game. His decision is absolute, even if he makes a mistake as a result of the close plays. He calls them as he sees them. His judgment cannot be challenged by the players or by the fans. This is not so in sumo. Seated at intervals around the ring are five kensayaku (overseeing judges). Should the decision of the referee be in doubt or should he err in his judgment, a protest would come from one or more of these judges. Then follows what is known as a mono-ii, or appealing verdict. The five judges hoist themselves out of their seats into the ring and discuss the critical moment, using gestures to indicate what has happened. The referee, a long-trained professional, cannot participate in these deliberations. He simply awaits the outcome. The conclusion drawn by the five judges sometimes reverses the decision of the referee. This system of judgment is based on the Japanese sense of justice—the belief that the decision of victory should be fair and that any mistake should be corrected by the group. In Japan, a group's conclusion generally supersedes an individual member's decision. Of course, despite a lot of close plays in the ring, the referee's calls are usually accurate and are not often protested by the judges. As a rule, his decisions are accepted, and he finds self-satisfaction in performing his duty without any protest from the group. This is what I have described as group-directed individualism (the inner willingness or desire of an individual to be directed by the group). Whenever individualism appears in Japanese society, it is surrounded and controlled by the group. Therefore, the basic ethical principle governing individual behavior is duty or loyalty to the group. Every public performance of an individual is directed by this principle.