TV & Radio
Japan's "baby hatch plan" draws PM's criticism
24 Feb 2007 04:03:07 GMT
TOKYO, Feb 24 (Reuters) - A Japanese hospital's plan to open a "baby hatch" where people can anonymously drop off infants they feel unable to care for has been criticised by the prime minister.
Jikei Hospital in the southwestern city of Kumamoto plans to place an incubator-like hatch with access from the outside of the building to allow babies to be dropped off safely. An alarm will alert hospital staff when a baby is placed there.
The plan has been cleared by the Health Ministry after it found there were no legal obstacles.
"I feel very resistant to the idea of creating a system where people can abandon a child anonymously," the Sankei Shimbun daily quoted Prime Minister Shinzo Abe as telling reporters on Friday.
"It is important to take responsibility as parents for bearing children," he said, adding that he felt Japan already had adequate provision for babies whose parents were unable to care for them.
The system, which the hospital calls "cradle of storks" is based on a similar facility in Germany. Children left there would be handed over to the local authorities, Kyodo news agency quoted the hospital as saying.
Domestic media have reported that Jikei Hospital, which traces its origins back to a clinic founded by Catholics, aims to discourage abortion, as well as prevent deaths through the abandonment of children.
Official figures show there are about 300,000 abortions a year in Japan, although researchers say the actual incidence is much higher.
Earlier in the week, Health Minister Hakuo Yanagisawa also expressed doubt about the hospital's plan.
"In one regard it will help sustain lives of infants who might otherwise be lost unnecessarily, but there also are concerns that it might encourage parents to entrust their children to others," Kyodo news agency quoted him as saying.
Abe Plan for More Forceful Military Fades With His Popularity
By John Brinsley
Feb. 13 (Bloomberg) -- Shinzo Abe's aim of revising Japan's pacifist constitution to allow the nation to assert itself militarily for the first time in more than 60 years may be petering out, a casualty of the prime minister's falling popularity.
``He's set himself up for failure,'' said Gerald Curtis, author of ``The Japanese Way of Politics'' and a professor of political science at Columbia University in New York. ``There's no enthusiasm for constitutional revision from society as a whole. For it to happen he has to be pretty popular, and he's not.''
Less than five months after taking office, Abe's popularity is plummeting amid scandals and doubts over his ability to address problems including welfare costs and a rising disparity in incomes. Abe, 52, may face pressure to step down if his Liberal Democratic Party does poorly in July elections for parliament's upper house.
A Kyodo News survey published Feb. 5 found that only 40.3 percent of Japanese approve of his performance, while 44.1 disapprove; his ratings have plummeted 25 points since he took office.
``Abe's lack of popularity in opinion polls is doing serious damage to his credibility,'' said Koichi Nakano, a political science professor at Sophia University in Tokyo. ``For him to make constitutional reform the centerpiece of July's elections is a huge risk.''
Japan's constitution, written by U.S. occupation forces after its defeat in 1945, renounces war as a sovereign right and forbids military forces. Japan can't exercise the right of collective self-defense -- to defend an ally that is attacked -- although courts have ruled that it can maintain troops for self- defense purposes.
Most Japanese prime ministers since World War II have concentrated on economic issues or, in the case of Abe's immediate predecessor Junichiro Koizumi, on revitalizing the LDP. Abe argues that with its pacifist approach, the constitution has made Japan ``incapable of adapting to the great changes taking place in the 21st century,'' as he told parliament on Jan. 26.
He pledged to enact legislation this year calling for a national referendum on how to revise the document .
While Abe's effort has drawn support from some -- former Prime Minister Yasuhiro Nakasone, an advocate of constitutional revision, said in an interview that Abe's Jan. 4 speech outlining his proposed changes was ``great'' -- it hasn't resonated with the public.
Opinion polls show that Japanese are ambivalent to constitutional change, and consider other issues more important, such as rising social welfare costs due to Japan's aging population.
Abe's popularity has been diminished by a series of scandals and miscues by his ministers. In December, his administrative reform minister resigned after his supporters falsified financial records, and the head of the government's tax panel quit over the improper use of a subsidized apartment.
Last month, Abe's health minister, Hakuo Yanagisawa, referred to Japanese females as ``baby-making machines,'' enraging women and prompting calls from the opposition for the minister's resignation. Abe has yet to ask Yanagisawa to quit, partly because he's already lost so many members of his cabinet, said Jeff Kingston, a professor of political science at Temple University in Tokyo. ``It certainly wouldn't look good for Abe to have to keep on replacing his ministers,'' Kingston said.
Changing Japan's constitution for the first time would require two-thirds approval from both chambers of parliament followed by a national referendum.
Proponents of the change say it would boost Japan's power and prominence on the world stage. ``In that respect, politics is at a major turning point,'' said Nakasone in an interview Feb. 6. Nakasone conceded that Abe may not be able to change the constitution in a first term. ``Five years may be too short to achieve that goal,'' he said, ``but the fact that the prime minister has taken such a strong stance has probably made a good impression on voters.''
The constitution is illegitimate and riddled with errors, said Tokyo Governor Shintaro Ishihara in a Feb. 6 interview. ``The text was written by Americans, so the Japanese is grammatically incorrect,'' Ishihara said. ``If I were an English teacher, I would give the Japanese translation a grade of 70.''
Ishihara, often described as a nationalist, says the constitution should be ``torn up'' and rewritten from scratch.
Ishihara said he doubted that Abe's declining popularity will sap his efforts to change the constitution. ``There's no use worrying too much about approval ratings because they go up and down,'' he said. ``There will be more opportunities for them to go up, so the cabinet should focus on doing a good job.''
To contact the reporter on this story: John Brinsley in Tokyo at email@example.com
Last Updated: February 12, 2007 17:01 EST
Viewpoint: Abe is no Reagan
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
By William Pesek
Shinzo Abe seems to be channeling the spirit of Ronald Reagan. Japan's prime minister is championing Reagan-like policies such as restoring national pride and deregulating a rigid economy.
Given Abe's focus in his first four months, it's not surprising that pundits are buzzing about "Morning in Japan." It's a not-so-subtle reference to the U.S. president's 1984 re-election campaign. Reagan ran on a platform of the United States being "prouder, stronger, better" after his first four years.
Many credit Reagan, who died in 2004, with restoring U.S. power and prosperity after a period of economic hardship and national soul- searching.
It's not unlike what many of Japan's 127 million people have entrusted Abe to do.
They are likely to be disappointed.
Abe's predecessor, Junichiro Koizumi, unleashed a bit of Reaganomics on Asia's biggest economy in his five years in power. He worked to push through spending cuts, tax reductions for the wealthy, privatization and deregulation.
Koizumi had to move gingerly, given Japan's preference for consensus over conflict. Yet his direction was clear enough.
The idea always was for Koizumi's successor to build on his achievements, no matter how incomplete. Abe's charge was to bring Japan's recovery to the next level, encouraging companies and households to spend more and making an over-regulated economy more efficient.
Abe is also focused on "building a beautiful country," something that seems quite Reaganesque. It's not about planting trees or cleaning up the streets — it's about boosting national pride, instilling patriotism in youngsters and, ultimately, creating a bigger global role for the nation.
Yet Abe is unlikely to succeed on the economy. Nor is he likely to bolster Japan's confidence, at least not with the strategies he's currently employing.
One can argue whether Reaganomics is best for Japan. Reagan's "trickle-down economics" and cuts in welfare spending favored the wealthy, widening the gap between rich and poor. He built up a massive public debt and his deregulation efforts arguably contributed to the U.S. savings and loan crisis.
In fact, looking at Japan right now, it seems Reaganomics is gaining some traction. Stocks are up, the yen is at four- year lows, corporations are enjoying record profits, production is booming, and yet middle-class households have concerns about the future and aren't increasing spending.
Even so, few will quibble with the idea that Japan is ripe for economic streamlining, whether it be along the lines of a Reagan or a Margaret Thatcher.
As a conservative, Abe isn't likely to deviate from Koizumi's free-market philosophies. The trouble comes in the area of implementation. Koizumi was always a big-picture, macroeconomic guy; his plans were a broad blueprint for how Japan needs to change, and he put the issue on the front burner.
What Japan needs now is an economics wonk to get under the hood and engineer a major tuneup.
Other than choosing Koji Omi, a tax-policy expert, as his finance minister, Abe has dropped few hints he's the micro- economy man that Japan needs. In fact, the question doesn't seem to be whether Abe will accelerate Japan's economic upgrade, but if he can keep the ruling Liberal Democratic Party from returning to its sclerotic tendencies.
Japan, it's often forgotten, is a one-party state. Sure, there are opposition parties, yet Japan's elections are rarely more exciting than Singapore's. Even Koizumi rode to power in April 2001 with the slogan "Change the LDP, Change Japan."
In other words, the man perceived to be Japan's biggest reformer in decades put his political party before the nation.
Abe can only do as much as his party allows him, and his support is sliding. A Sankei newspaper survey this week showed Abe's approval rating (39.1 percent) fell below his disapproval rating (40.9 percent). Two members of his Cabinet have already resigned in separate scandals. Another, the health minister, Hakuo Yanagisawa, has come under criticism for calling women "baby-making machines" in a speech on Saturday.
Abe's growing unpopularity appears to be sharpening his attention on noneconomic issues — like his "beautiful country" campaign.
While Reagan was dubbed "The Great Communicator," Abe is struggling to explain what exactly he means with all this talk about tweaking the education system to boost patriotism. The fact he's articulated it in a book called "Toward a Beautiful Country" hasn't clarified things.
As his country's first prime minister born after World War II, the 52-year- old Abe wants to rid Japan of historical baggage. Hence his early efforts to improve relations with China and South Korea. Koizumi damaged ties with annual visits to the Yasukuni Shrine, where 14 convicted war criminals are honored among the dead.
Yet national pride can't be taught in the schools of an open society any more than Abe's reminder that the economy is growing again will get households to spend more.
If Abe can heal old wounds in Asia and restore Japan's economic power globally, the respect he desires for his country may follow.
Giving Japanese more hope for the future is key. China's 10 percent-plus growth has drawn attention away from Japan, and cheap Chinese labor is holding back wage gains in Japan.
Politicians in Tokyo need to raise optimism among young Japanese and improve the nation's outlook.
We can debate whether applying full-blown Reaganomics is best for Japan. Either way, Abe doesn't seem the person to do it.
Cabinet minister remarks give Japan PM a headache
By Linda Sieg
Mon Jan 29, 1:31 AM ET
First, his defense minister risks offending Japan's key ally, the United States, by calling the start of the Iraq war a "mistake." Then, his health minister sparks a domestic fuss by calling women "birth-giving machines."
Gaffes by cabinet ministers are giving Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe a political headache when his support ratings are already slipping due to doubts about his leadership ability -- hardly cheering ahead of an upper house election in July.
"I want to make clear that our cabinet is not allowing people to just say what they want," Chief Cabinet Secretary Yasuhisa Shiozaki told a news conference on Monday at which he was bombarded with questions about the comments by the two ministers.
Abe came under fire when he took office in September for creating a 'crony cabinet" of lawmakers who had supported his bid to become prime minister. Now, some critics say his choices are coming back to haunt him.
"These people are not media savvy. They are feudal warlords who voice their frank opinions," said Jesper Koll, chief economist at Merrill Lynch in Tokyo. "He put them in the cabinet ... and now he's stuck with them."
Abe told parliament he had given a strong warning to Health Minister Hakuo Yanagisawa about his "inappropriate" phrase, and Yanagisawa himself apologized for "hurting women's feelings."
Yanagisawa, 71, had been speaking to local lawmakers about Japan's rock-bottom birth rate, which has raised concerns about economic growth and the ability to fund ballooning pension costs.
"Because the number of birth-giving machines and devices is fixed, all we can ask for is for them to do their best per head, although it may not be so appropriate to call them machines," Kyodo quoted Yanagisawa as saying.
Defense MINISTER REMARKS
Shiozaki was also grilled about the latest controversial remarks by Defense Minister Fumio Kyuma, who last week said President Bush had been wrong to start the Iraq war on the assumption that Baghdad had nuclear weapons.
Kyuma was quoted as saying on Saturday that Washington didn't understand the need for "spadework" to win approval from the governor of Okinawa to relocate a U.S. military base on the southern Japanese island in line with a U.S.-Japan agreement.
"I am telling (the U.S. side) not to say such patronizing things, that I am talking to the governor, so please wait a bit and leave Japanese matters to Japan," Kyuma was quoted as saying.
Shiozaki acknowledged that U.S. officials had contacted Japanese authorities to check on Kyuma's comments about the Iraq war, but added there had not been any criticism.
The fuss over cabinet ministers' remarks coincides with new public opinion polls underscoring the decline in Abe's popularity.
Support for his cabinet fell six points to 40 percent, while that for his Liberal Democratic Party dropped six points to 25 percent, according to a weekend survey by the Mainichi newspaper.
Still, the main opposition Democratic Party -- which is aiming to deprive the ruling coalition of its majority in the upper house -- could take little consolation from the results, which showed its support rate fell four points to 13 percent.
The percentage of voters who said they backed no party at all rose 10 points to 49 percent, the newspaper said.
A defeat in the upper house election would not automatically force Abe from office, but it would raise doubts about the longevity of his administration.
(Additional reporting by George Nishiyama and Chisa Fujioka)
寺町みどりの一期一会blog 2007-01-22 09:28:05
Au Japon, polémique autour du gibet
LE MONDE | 15.01.07 | 14h39 • Mis à jour le 15.01.07 | 14h39
haque matin, ils comptent les pas dans le couloir. Si les pas sont nombreux, ils comprennent qu'une exécution va avoir lieu. Qui a été désigné ? Les pas s'arrêtent. Un gardien devant chaque cellule. Les condamnés attendent les yeux rivés sur la porte. Puis, l'une d'entre elles est ouverte et tombe la phrase fatidique : "Le temps est venu."
Telle est l'épreuve, racontée par ceux qui ont échappé au gibet, qu'endurent chaque matin la centaine de condamnés à mort japonais. Une cinquantaine ont épuisé tous les recours et vivent dans la hantise des petits matins. Pour certains - une vingtaine -, cela dure depuis une à deux décennies. Pour quatre d'entre eux, cette attente a pris fin le 25 décembre 2006. La pendaison de quatre condamnés, dont Yoshimitsu Akiyama (77 ans) et Yoshio Fujinami (75 ans) - qui attendaient la mort respectivement depuis 1987 et 1993 -, a soulevé l'indignation des abolitionnistes au Japon comme dans le reste du monde.
Noël est certes un jour ordinaire dans l'Archipel mais il est symbolique pour une bonne partie de l'humanité. Il l'était particulièrement pour l'un des condamnés, Yoshio Fujinami, converti au christianisme en prison en 1989... Celui-ci avait en outre perdu l'usage de ses jambes. "C'est un homme incapable de se mouvoir que vous avez exécuté", écrit-il dans une ultime lettre adressée à son frère où il met en cause le ministre de la justice.
"UNE FORME DE TORTURE"
Cette quadruple exécution marque la fin d'un moratoire de fait de quinze mois dans le seul des pays développés, avec les Etats-Unis, à pratiquer la peine capitale. Les autorités se retranchent derrière les sondages où 80 % des Japonais se disent favorables à la peine de mort. Ce sentiment a été renforcé par une série de crimes commis contre des enfants. Mais il est surtout dû à l'impact psychologique de l'attentat au sarin dans le métro de Tokyo en 1995 (12 morts et 4 000 intoxiqués), perpétré par la secte Aum, dont le chef Shoko Asahara a été condamné à mort avec douze autres membres de l'organisation.
Un récent séminaire à la Maison franco-japonaise à Tokyo - "L'expérience de l'Europe face à la question de la peine de mort" - a mis en lumière les difficultés à sensibiliser l'opinion publique japonaise à cette question. Si bien que les abolitionnistes placent leurs espoirs dans une pression accrue de la communauté internationale.
Rares sont les ministres de la justice qui refusent de contresigner la sentence autorisant l'exécution. Ce fut le cas du précédent titulaire du poste, Seiken Sugiura, un avocat opposé à la peine capitale en raison de ses convictions bouddhistes. La dernière exécution remontait à septembre 2005. Son successeur, Jinen Nagase, ne partage pas ces valeurs. Quatre condamnés exécutés le même jour, cela ne s'était pas vu depuis 1997.
Le mouvement abolitionniste japonais comme des organisations internationales de défense des droits de l'homme dénoncent aussi le secret qui entoure les exécutions. La plupart se déroulent entre les sessions parlementaires afin d'éviter des interpellations. A la suite des exécutions de Noël, Mizuho Fukushima, présidente du Parti social-démocrate et avocate, membre du groupe d'une centaine de parlementaires opposés à la peine de mort, a réclamé un débat national sur cette question.
Dans un rapport de 2003, la Fédération internationale des ligues des droits de l'homme (FIDH) a qualifié la peine de mort au Japon de pratique "indigne d'une démocratie moderne". Elle dénonce les conditions de détention des condamnés : isolement absolu, surveillance permanente, crainte quotidienne de l'exécution. Une situation qui constitue "une forme de torture incompatible avec les principes d'une société civilisée et une sanction qu'aucun crime, si grave soit-il, ne saurait justifier".
Sept prisons sur la soixantaine que compte le Japon disposent d'une chambre d'exécution. Elle comporte une mezzanine à laquelle on accède par un petit escalier de treize marches, raconte un ancien gardien. La mezzanine est séparée en deux par un rideau. D'un côté : un petit autel et une statue de bouddha. De l'autre : la corde. Cinq gardiens sont choisis par leur supérieur pour procéder à l'exécution. Le condamné récite un sutra en compagnie d'un moine, puis on lui bande les yeux et on lui lie les mains avant de lui passer la corde au cou. La trappe est commandée par cinq boutons que les gardiens pressent en même temps. L'un des boutons est neutralisé afin que chacun d'entre eux puisse espérer que ce n'est pas lui qui a donné la mort.
Les familles ne sont prévenues que le lendemain de l'exécution. C'est ainsi qu'un jour de 1995, la mère d'un condamné, venue voir son fils à la prison, apprit qu'il avait été exécuté le matin même...
Les lenteurs procédurières conjuguées aux réticences de certains ministres de la justice à envoyer au gibet des condamnés contribuent à un "engorgement" des couloirs de la mort. Il y a une dizaine d'années, le Japon comptait de 50 à 60 condamnés à la peine capitale. Mais le nombre des exécutions ayant diminué, ils sont désormais plus nombreux à attendre. D'autant que le nombre des condamnations, lui, augmente : de 2 à 7 par an jusqu'en 2003, il est passé à 20 en 2006. Selon le quotidien Asahi, le ministère de la justice pourrait vouloir réduire la surpopulation dans les couloirs de la mort. "2007 ne sera pas une année record de non-exécution", a déclaré au journal un haut fonctionnaire alors que l'année écoulée avait été la première depuis quatorze ans au cours de laquelle il n'y avait eu aucune exécution.
Les partisans de la peine de mort font valoir que tant qu'elle est inscrite au code pénal, ne pas l'appliquer reviendrait à affaiblir le système judiciaire. Les abolitionnistes espèrent que le jury, qui sera introduit au Japon en 2009, permettra de réduire les condamnations à la peine capitale. Les parlementaires abolitionnistes proposent, eux, un moratoire de deux ans aux exécutions afin de faire mûrir un projet d'abolition accompagné de la création d'une peine de prison à perpétuité assortie d'une période de sûreté de trente ans.
Article paru dans l'édition du 16.01.07
ニッポンの死刑の真実と 『ル・モンド』 -保坂展人のどこどこ日記 2006/01/17
Japan Tackles School Violence
Critics say new education-reform plans don't address crucial issues affecting students.
By Christian Caryl and Akiko Kashiwagi
Jan. 15, 2007 issue - For Ayumi Yabe, now 18, the agony started back in first grade. A boy in her class singled her out for harassment. "Go die!" he'd scream at her—and a crowd of others soon joined in. As she got older, still other boys took to harrying her with taunts and threats on the way home. Sometimes the bullies would push her to the ground and make her eat berries that made her sick. Most painfully, she says, her teachers refused to help. Once, after receiving a death threat from a fifth-grade classmate, she passed the note to her teacher, who then read it in front of the class. "Our school was so detached," she remarks. Small wonder that she soon began to think about finding a way out. "I began to wish I was dead. I just didn't have the energy to live."
Luckily for Yabe, her resourceful mom managed to track down a refuge—one of Japan's rare alternative schools. Most children in the country aren't so fortunate. In recent months the media have been rife with gruesome stories about school-age suicides, most of them apparent responses to an epidemic of bullying. In the eyes of many Japanese, that scandal merely mirrors the country's lingering education crisis. Experts say standardized-test scores are falling, and so is the motivation to learn among secondary-school students. Critics also say there is less order and discipline in today's classrooms. Bullying, long a problem, is said to be worse than ever. "I think the number of bullying cases has been rising sharply, but it's getting increasingly difficult to keep track because many are not straightforward," says Midori Komori, a housewife turned antibullying activist. (Since her daughter committed suicide after being bullied, she's been visiting dozens of schools to fight the problem.) "The nature of bullying has become entirely different from years ago. Thanks to mobile phones and the Internet, kids today can send a curse in a click behind the scenes, without alerting the parents of the bullied."
Small wonder, then, that the new administration of Prime Minister Shinzo Abe has rushed to enact what the government calls a "bold" new plan to reform the schools. Last month Japan's Diet, or Parliament, easily passed the educational-reform bill. The problem, critics say, is that the plan isn't bold at all. Indeed, Abe now is facing a revolt from disappointed teachers, parents and even some of his own education experts, who say that the new bill does little more than institutionalize the teaching of morality and "patriotism" in Japanese schools and fails to address the day-to-day concerns of the country's beleaguered schoolkids. Critics say Abe's education plans don't even mention the need to promote more creative thinking among students—which experts have cited for years as a weakness in the system—and do not address other key issues, such as school vouchers and the reform of local boards of education. "Educational reform continues to go astray," blared the influential liberal daily Asahi Shimbun, which criticized Abe's education reform for its failure to address core problems.
The controversy has heightened concern about Abe's lack of leadership. Three months ago, following his deft handling of the North Korean nuclear test and his diplomatic overtures to China and South Korea, his approval rating was about 70 percent. But it's since plummeted to 47 percent, according to a recent survey, partly because of the public's growing unease about Japan's education system. Experts say that improving the school system is necessary to foster future global leaders, boost the productivity of the Japanese economy and, by extension, strengthen the country's creaky welfare state, which is under severe strain from a rapidly aging population.
Reformers say that Japan's education system is too rigid, bureaucratic and obsessed with rote learning and conformity, to the detriment of students. The Ministry of Education runs the school system with an iron fist; it has strict guidelines for teacher hiring, establishes the curriculum and mandates how student problems should be handled. Bullying, say social experts, is a manifestation of the pressure kids are under to succeed. Kids in hypercompetitive classrooms seem to require little incentive to gang up on each other. One favored tactic: the silent treatment, which can translate into entire classrooms resolutely refusing to dignify the target with greetings or routine chitchat.
Reliable statistics are elusive, but the number of bullying cases handled by the National Police Agency hit 165 in 2005, compared with 93 in 1997. Many social commentators argue that the problem is, in fact, much worse, since many (if not most) cases simply aren't reported to teachers or school administrators. Worries about the issue peaked last fall, when at least seven children committed suicide in a two-month period. Bunmei Ibuki, Japan's minister of Education, Science and Technology, blamed the problem on deteriorating social morality and said: "We have to seek ways to restores ties among families and the community, which are now shifting their responsibilities onto teachers." The MOE is supersensitive about the bullying problem—so much so that the agency insists, astoundingly, that there were no student suicides linked to bullying between 1999 and 2005.
Komori begs to differ. Her daughter committed suicide in 1998. Komori has spent the past eight years trying to get information pertaining to her daughter's death from the high school she attended. But neither the school nor the MOE will provide any details. Now she's taking the school to court. The case is all too emblematic, Komori says, of an entrenched bureaucratic mentality. "The basic rule is, you look the other way," she says.
Reformers assert that individual schools need more autonomy when dealing with issues such as bullying, and should be allowed to hire teachers from varied backgrounds to help nurture creativity. Abe supposedly agrees. But the new law only gives more power to the MOE. "[The reform] will increase government control and reinforce the current trend toward intensifying competition in school," insists Yoshihiro Izumi, a 51-year-old Tokyo elementary-school teacher who recently joined 5,000 other protesters in front of the Diet objecting to the new bill, which they fear would increase the state's oversight. "I believe that bullying occurs in a society where human rights are oppressed."
An education-advisory panel is now studying how Japan can revitalize its schools. The group is supposed to make its recommendations to Abe in late January. The final report must be vetted by the Ministry of Education and politicians from the ruling LDP, who reformers say would rather not see existing policies radically modified. If Abe wants to convince voters that his heart is in the right place, he may have to come back to the education issue and show that he's genuinely committed to reform.
© 2006 Newsweek, Inc.
[특파원리포트] 극우화된 ‘요미우리’, ‘산케이’가 초라해
극우화된 ‘요미우리’, ‘산케이’가 초라해
政務調査費でカーナビも購入、公明党区議団が辞職願 (読売 2006/11/24)
毎日新聞 2006年11月24日 21時30分
毎日新聞 2006年11月24日 21時30分