Japan Times: How do you find a missing spouse in Japan?

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How do you find a missing spouse in Japan?

BY 

CONTRIBUTING WRITER

A reader writes: “I live in Japan with my son. His father left us nine years ago. After a couple of months, he contacted me, though he has never contacted us since then. I have never heard any news from him. I tried also to send a letter to his parents with a picture of my son attached, but I received no reply from them. I’m so desperate to know what happened to him and even whether he is still alive or not.”

There are several ways for the reader to find her husband if she consults with a lawyer. The usual way of tracing someone’s address is to ask a lawyer to obtain their family registry (koseki-tohon) or certificate of residence (juuminhyō) from their local municipal office. Attorneys are allowed to obtain someone’s koseki-tohon or juuminhyō without the permission of that person, as long as it is deemed necessary for a case.

If the reader knows the address of where she and her husband used to live or his parents live, a lawyer can trace her husband’s present address by obtaining his koseki-tohon and juuminhyō. However, it is essential that the reader knows the kanji of her husband’s or husband’s parents’ names in order to obtain those documents. Sometimes, the fact that non-Japanese spouses do not know the kanji of their spouse’s name can stop a case moving forward.

To avoid this kind of situation, non-Japanese spouses are advised to copy the koseki-tohon or take a picture of it when they marry a Japanese national.

Once the lawyer has traced her husband’s address, the lawyer can contact and negotiate with him over the terms of the divorce, presuming that is what she wants. If he does not reply to the lawyer, she can sue him for divorce on the grounds of abandonment. If he is not living in Japan, she can still sue him at Japanese family court for divorce on the same grounds.

However, even if the husband’s address can be traced, it may be that the husband no longer lives in that place and neglected to change his address on his juuminhyō, for whatever reason.

In this kind of case, due to the possibility that he might be missing or has passed away, the wife can seek a different remedy through the courts: She can file a petition called an Adjudication of Disappearance arguing that her husband has been missing for more than seven years. If the petition is granted, her husband would be regarded as being deceased from the point seven years after the last communication with her.

Again, it’s important to stress that although the family registry and certificate of residency come in very useful when you want to trace a Japanese person’s address, a foreign spouse must know the exact kanji of their partner’s name.

Otherwise, the case risks being stuck in limbo.

Seiji Yamaura is an attorney with the Foreign nationals and International Service Section at Tokyo Public Law Office, which handles a wide range of cases involving non-Japanese in the Tokyo area (03-5979-2880; www.t-pblo.jp/fiss) FISS lawyers address readers’ queries once a month. Your questions and other comments: lifelines@japantimes.co.jp

 

Source:  “How do you find a missing spouse in Japan?”, The Japan Times, 3 December 2017

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Prime Minister visits Japan

Foreign &
Commonwealth
Office

Press release

PM heads to Japan to build strong post-Brexit relationship with Tokyo

The Prime Minister begins a new era of strengthening Britain’s ties and influence in Asia with an ambitious three-day trip to Japan.

Hiroshima landslide – 3 years on

The article that appeared below yesterday about the third anniversary of the Hiroshima landslide – I posted a series of posts about it in August 2014 (which still holds the record for the largest number of posts in any one month) – was a reminder that it has been almost 3 years since I received any real news about my son.  It is preposterous that this is so and that the UK government shows no tangible interest in the issue of ongoing and historical international parental child abduction in Japan.

Hiroshima remembers victims of deadly landslides on third anniversary of the disaster

KYODO

A memorial service was held Sunday in Hiroshima to commemorate the third anniversary of the landslides that claimed the lives of 77 people.

“I don’t want anyone else to become a victim or a person feeling like us,” said 77-year-old Takako Miyamoto, one of the speakers at the event. She lost her husband after torrential rain triggered landslides in residential areas close to mountains in the city early on Aug. 20, 2014.

“It is really painful and sad. Our lives were ruined after losing everything dear to us, homes destroyed,” said Miyamoto, who was seriously injured in the landslide.

Touching on recent natural disasters including the torrential rain in Kyushu last month, she said she “sincerely hopes that no one else dies in a disaster.”

Three years ago, about 400 houses were either washed away or damaged by the landslides that struck Hiroshima.

“Residents are providing mutual support and the work to protect each other has progressed,” Hiroshima Mayor Kazumi Matsui said at the ceremony. “We’d like to support these efforts.”

Jointly hosted by the Hiroshima municipal and prefectural governments, the event was held in Asakita Ward, one of the hardest-hit areas.

Families and residents visited the devastated sites early Sunday to offer flowers and pray for those who died. Some touched the names of victims listed on a monument, while others tearfully clasped hands.

Hina Sawamoto, a 16-year-old high school student in the city of Hiroshima, lost her grandmother after a mudslide smashed into her house that day. She sometimes recalls the mudslide when it rains heavily and becomes worried that disaster may strike again.

The teenager said she wants to give a helping hand to those affected by the downpours in Kyushu, just as she was helped by volunteers after the disaster in Hiroshima.

She went to Oita Prefecture last month with her father, Yasuhiro, 46, and helped a family whose house had been swept away by a mudslide. “I was supported by many people. So I wanted to show my gratitude,” she said.

Although she was helping out, Sawamoto said she did not really get to talk with the victims. “Sometimes people want to be left alone. I know how they were feeling.” At the time of the disaster, residents in the devastated area had not been informed of the landslide risk, as many of the sites were not designated within the warning zone in accordance with the law on prevention of landslide disasters.

Afterward, the state revised the law and obliged prefectural governments to swiftly make public the results of basic investigations of terrain and geological conditions. The revised law took effect in January 2015.

According to the Hiroshima Prefectural Government, emergency work since the disaster to make 57 locations more resistant to landslides was completed in May this year.

The prefecture is expected to designate around 50,000 locations as landslide warning zones, but only about 40 percent of the areas had been so designated as of Aug. 10.

Source:  “Hiroshima remembers victims of deadly landslides on third anniversary of disaster”, The Japan Times, 20 August 2017

Hiroshima’s past is one of many reasons to pay a visit

Hello Hugo

Today marks the 72nd anniversary of the Hiroshima bombing.  No doubt living there, you will have learnt a lot about this at school and elsewhere.  This article appeared in The Japan Times on Friday and is a reminder, not that you would need it, that there is a lot on offer there – although you are still a little young for some of the below, I have visited most of the places referred to.  It is a lovely city and whenever I read about it my thoughts inevitably turn to you.

This post is also the 100th one categorised with your name, either alone or with other categories – all my messages to you personally or posts that otherwise relate to you directly; the total number of posts is now approaching 300.

STEPHEN MANSFIELD
Travel
Hiroshima’s past is one of many reasons to pay a visit
by Stephen Mansfield
Special To The Japan Times

Aug 4, 2017

 

The early morning light on this summer day, illuminating the under canopies of trees and sending warm, golden strobes across the oyster cafes over the embankments of the Kyobashi River, is enchanting.
A fan-shaped city divided by seven deltaic waterways, Hiroshima sits on six islands formed by estuarial rivers. It feels large and expansive, but is free of the crowds that fill Tokyo and Osaka. Elegant bridges and river perspectives add notes of grace to this modern city, but its streams of history and collective memory return, invariably, to the morning of Aug. 6, 1945, when a white light lit it up from west to east before plunging it into semi-darkness.

 

It was the world’s first use of nuclear weapons on a civilian population, and the effects have been indelible. Today, the story of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima is well understood, but it wasn’t always so — the full truth of what happened took decades to come out as the U.S. Occupation and government sought to keep a lid on images of the destruction and suffering. Japan, for its part, also took decades to erect a memorial acknowledging the Korean laborers who perished alongside Japanese in Hiroshima. The Koreans, whose experience must count as a double misfortune, did get their memorial in the end, though you will have to seek it out. Sidelined away from the central monuments of the Peace Park, it feels a little like an uncomfortable afterthought.
Visiting the city around this time of year can be intense, especially in the areas connected with its wartime history, but it is well worth your while. Local residents enjoy the open spaces and river views; groups of tourists follow guides, stopping periodically to hear explanations; and people with signs and clipboards are never far away. Causes include everything from pleas for world peace and efforts to project Japan’s pacifist Constitution to protests against the harvesting of human organs in China. It’s tempting to get caught up in this highly politicized vortex and become a victim of the mild delirium that can assail visitors, but don’t worry — people with agendas tend to cluster around Motoyasu Bridge. Those with interest can get involved; for others, it’s good to just keep moving.
You have to steel yourself for a visit to Hiroshima. The travel writer Ethel Mannin visited the city in 1958, bracing herself on one occasion when a doctor passed her an album of photographs of A-bomb injuries.
“Once you have looked without passing out,” she noted, “you can go on looking, for you can only be profoundly shocked in that way once; after that comes only the dull repetition of horror.” Mannin witnessed the living conditions of the very poor, many of them debilitated by radiation sickness in the days before the city’s slow recovery.
She was taken to an area behind the Atomic Bomb Dome, the ruins of the former Industrial Promotion Hall, at the hypocenter of the explosion. Today, the area is set aside for restaurants and bars catering to tourists, and to a pier where visitors embark for cruises along the Motoyasu River. In Mannin’s day, improvised shacks made from scavenged corrugated iron, sacking and splintered wood, occupied the spot. The writer was told that eviction orders had been served on the slum’s residents, but many of them, unable to work full time, were incapable of paying even the lowest rents.
The plight of those exposed to radiation extended well beyond the end of the war and the limits of corporeal suffering. In the decades that followed, discrimination against the hibakusha was remorseless — some healthy families refused to let their offspring marry a sufferer, and some employers denied them work. Many of those with nonvisible injuries, fearing stigmatization, refused to visit hospitals and receive treatment.
You needn’t be of any particular nationality to be affected by the lessons this city has to teach, for its tragedy is fundamentally a human one. That said, life has moved on in Hiroshima, a city with many dimensions. The best approach, perhaps, is to pay your respects early on, and then turn your attention to a city that has become a model of forward-looking prosperity.
My first stop after visiting the Peace Park and Atomic Bomb Museum is always to seek out the grounds of Shukkei-en, a traditional Japanese garden. Its location, close to ground zero, resulted in extensive damage. After painstaking reconstruction, it was opened to the public in 1951. If prewar photos are anything to go by, the restoration appears to be remarkably faithful.
A typical Japanese circuit garden, the site was created in 1620, purportedly by the tea ceremony master Ueda Soko. The name translates as “compressed scenery garden,” an apt description for the series of valley, forest and mountain cameos skillfully integrated into the grounds. Like today, the original garden contained a number of teahouses, stone lanterns and miniaturized scenes to form a cultural digest of sights in China and Japan. Perhaps the strongest Chinese reference is the Takuei Pond, with its many islets, including the clear outline of a turtle and crane island. The water is transected by Koko-kyo bridge, modeled on the causeway at Xi Hu, the West Lake in Hangzhou. A green and bucolic spot, Shukkei-en is more than just a garden: It is a symbol of rebirth and hope.
The original garden was constructed around the same time as Hiroshima Castle and is within walking distance of it. There are only 12 authentic castles remaining in Japan, and this is not one of them. The fortress replica that stands today is skillfully done, however, with three towers and a wide moat shored up with the original masonry. Innovations found in other castle replicas, such as elevators, are mercifully absent. As you climb to the fifth story of the donjon (keep), each floor has historical displays of armor, weaponry, manuscripts and maps, not to mention actors in costume stalking photo opportunities here and there.
It’s a short enough walk from the castle to the Hiroshima Museum of Art, though the city’s straight avenues and boulevards can also be negotiated by tramcar, vehicles that add a touch of old-world urban elegance. If the exhibits of paintings by the likes of Claude Monet, Henri Matisse and Pierre-Auguste Renoir seem removed from the life of the city, the Hiroshima Prefectural Art Museum (to the east of the castle) has a number of works more expressive of the spirit of place, the most conspicuous being the rather harrowing “Holocaust at Hiroshima,” a large painting by Ikuo Hirayama. The artist witnessed the bombing, so we can depend on the authenticity of the scenes it depicts. Among the museum’s more arresting works by foreign artists is the surrealist masterpiece, “Dreams of Venus,” by Salvador Dali. With its signature melting watch the canvas put me in mind of a curious weekend spent in the company of Dali and his wife Gala at their seafront home in the Catalan village of Cadaques, Spain. But that’s another story, another moment in time.
The third venue in the cultural triangle is the Hiroshima City Museum of Contemporary Art, with its fine collection of works from around the world. The grounds of the museum, located at the top of Hijiyama, an incline with commanding views of the city, are peppered with important modern sculptures, including a work by Henry Moore. Hiroshima’s vibrant art scene, restaurants, gardens, parks and cafe life and the undeniably international feeling conferred on it by so many visitors from around the world combine to make it an inspiring model of dynamic recovery.
Inevitably, though, one is drawn back to the oppressive final days of the war and the superheated summer that put Hiroshima, a then little-known port city, forever on the map. I returned on my final night for one last look at the Atomic Bomb Dome. Apparently some local residents had objected to the beautification of the monument with the installation of colored lights for nighttime. The word “magical” may seem inappropriate, but there was a haunting, phantasmagoric quality to the lit girders, torn walls and blackened cavities of the building.
Despite its nocturnal charms, it is advisable to visit Hiroshima in the daytime, when the sunbeams chase away the scorched shadows of the past and one can appreciate the light, passing as it should from east to west.
High-speed shinkansen, local trains and buses all arrive at Hiroshima Station. Hiroshima-Nishi Airport and Hiroshima Airport host flights from Tokyo and other large cities. There are two information booths in Hiroshima Station. To learn more, visit http://www.visithiroshima.net.

Source:  “Hiroshima’s past is one of many reasons to pay a visit”, The Japan Times, 4 August 2017

When open minds fight closed courts in Japan

Open justice: Lawrence Repeta challenged court restrictions on note-taking and established a precedent studied by Japanese law students today.

| COLIN P.A. JONES
Issues | LAW OF THE LAND
When open minds fight closed courts in Japan
by Colin P.A. Jones
Special To The Japan Times

 

Jul 16, 2017

 

On Nov. 28, 2016, the Nagoya High Court overturned the acquittal of Hiroto Fujii, mayor of the Gifu city of Minokamo, sentencing him to 18 months imprisonment with labor, suspended for three years. Elected in 2013 at the age of 28, he remains Japan’s youngest mayor.
Fujii ran as an independent, defeating an candidate backed by the Liberal Democratic Party who was twice his age. He joined the LDP shortly after winning, but they expelled him the same day he was arrested for allegedly taking bribes from a businessman in connection with the installation of a school water system. It should be disheartening — but not surprising — that the party which rules the country apparently equates being arrested with being guilty.

 

The principal evidence against Fujii was testimony from the businessman who allegedly bribed him. Conveniently for prosecutors, he had already been arrested and convicted for the bribery and an unrelated fraud, a crime that literally involves lying to people. Finding the witness lacking in credibility and his account of sneaking cash to Fujii implausible, the Nagoya District Court acquitted the young mayor.
On appeal by prosecutors, the high court managed to decide that the convicted fraudster was more credible than either the mayor or the witness whose testimony supported his innocence. Not only that, the esteemed high court judges supposedly made this evaluation based solely on the record of the lower court proceedings. They did hear testimony from the fraudster, but this turned out to have been tainted (and thus unusable) because he had inexplicably received a copy of the district court’s decision. This meant he and prosecutors had months to iron out discrepancies before testifying again to the high court, which, supposedly unaffected by this testimony, nonetheless found him credible based just on the record of the lower court proceedings. The high court never bothered to hear testimony from the mayor and his witness before essentially deciding both were lying.
The citizens of Minokamo apparently have a different view; Fujii was re-elected mayor in May. He ran unopposed, so popular despite his conviction that apparently no other parties thought it worth standing opposition candidates. Now on appeal before the Supreme Court, his case offers a cautionary tale for young people who challenge Japan’s wrinkly-faced establishment. It is also a sad reminder of how low one should set expectations of the nation’s criminal justice system. This is not just because of the result at the high court, but because the process started with a judge rubber-stamping a democratically elected sitting mayor’s arrest and prolonged detention, the latter on the farcical grounds that he was a flight risk. In just a few days an astounding 40 percent of Minokamo voters signed a petition calling for him to be released on bail.
Just as with all trials, Fujii’s was about competing narratives — his and the prosecutors’. Judges are supposed to balance the evidence and decide which is true. Yet apart from the testimony and other evidence submitted in the courtroom, at a higher level there is also a separate narrative playing out about whether trials themselves are being conducted fairly. Authoritarian institutions and marketing executives both appreciate that controlling narratives such as these is critical.
Judicial efforts to control the narrative played out in a shocking fashion in Fujii’s case. By law, the judgment of a court in a criminal case must be read to the defendant in open court, though it may take several days from being requested for a formal written judgment to be delivered to the defendant and his lawyers. In high-profile cases, however, courts have a practice of issuing a summary of the judgment to the media so they can report on it immediately.
In Fujii’s case, accredited media were given a 60-page “summary” of the high court’s decision the day it was rendered. At the same time, the same court refused to give Fujii’s counsel the same summary — that was for the media only. The defendant and his lawyers were supposed to wait until the official judgment was ready. This left them (and the government of Minokamo) to field questions from journalists who were better equipped with information about the judgment than they were. Control of information is a source of power — both to criticize and prevent criticism. Japanese courts — like all government institutions — know this very well.
Which brings me to why we should all be sorry to see Lawrence Repeta leaving Japan.

 

Larry is a friend of mine and was, until recently, a law professor at Meiji University. Had you been sitting in the public seats at the Nagoya High Court when it reversed Fujii’s acquittal, you could have pulled out a memo pad and — like Fujii’s lawyers — frantically tried to take notes as the judgment was read out. If you had done so, you would owe a debt of gratitude to Larry Repeta.
When I first observed a Japanese criminal trial, courthouses had signs on the walls saying “Taking notes prohibited.” This didn’t apply to everyone, though: Journalists accredited to the court’s “press club” could do so, but other observers could not. Press clubs are an omnipresent narrative control device in Japan; journos who write anything too critical of the institution can have their accreditation revoked, losing access to precious information. Members of the general public are not subject to this sort of control.
Larry first came to Japan in the early 1980s as a young lawyer and researcher. He encountered the ban on note-taking when trying to observe the trial of a bubble-era stock promoter for tax fraud. Repeated requests to the presiding judge for permission were rejected without explanation. Aided by the Japan Civil Liberties Union, he brought suit on the grounds that the prohibition on note-taking violated the Japanese Constitution’s guarantee of open courts, freedom of expression and equal protection. To a young American-trained lawyer, it seemed so obvious.
As so often seems to be the case in Japanese constitutional litigation, Larry won by losing, with all but one of the Supreme Court’s 15 judges acknowledging that “note-taking by spectators in the courtroom is worth respecting and should not be hindered without due reasons,” although such behavior was nonetheless subject to “restrict(ions) or prohibit(ions) if it interferes even slightly with the administration of the fair and smooth trial proceedings in the courtroom.”
Declining to find any clear constitutional violation (and, in my view, fudging on equal protection by simply declaring it reasonable to give journalists special privileges), the court rejected his appeal while at the same time declaring that permitting note-taking should be the rule rather than the exception. This was driven home when the Supreme Court’s General Secretariat issued a directive to courts throughout the country to permit note-taking by spectators. That the court’s administrators are able to issue edicts to judges about how to conduct trials is one of the lesser-known but vaguely disturbing aspects of Japan’s judicial system.
Nonetheless, Larry’s case wrought change, though not through law but through narrative, by establishing a high-profile negative story about closed courts — Larry embarrassed the judiciary into submission. In this respect it probably helped that he was a conspicuous Westerner, though it would be nice if more Japanese people had been — still are — embarrassed that it took a foreigner to care enough to fight for this right.
Despite the technical result, Larry’s case was regarded as a great victory. It is one of the basic precedents studied by Japanese law students. Thanks to his efforts, research on trial practice and citizen monitoring of judicial behavior is easier, and an entire new genre of nonfiction exists — books based on watching trials, and more recently court-watching bloggers. Larry is rightfully a folk hero among progressives, civil libertarians and others who care about informational justice, a field he has devoted himself to since becoming an academic. He has also published countless articles on Japanese law (including a book chapter for which I was co-author).

 

Retired from his teaching position in Japan, Larry returns to Seattle, where he graduated from law school and once practiced as a lawyer. Before his departure we caught up over beer in Kyoto. Asked to reflect on what had changed in the 35 years since he first started asking questions about Japan’s criminal justice system, his response was: “The saiban’in (lay judge) system has been introduced and there have been some other changes, but the fundamental rules have not changed, and they are the rules of an authoritarian system where the presumption of innocence is denied.”
The defendant in the trial where he had tried to take notes was ultimately acquitted of the principal charge yet ended up being detained for over two years during the course of a trial that lasted four. Prolonged deprivations of freedom regardless of guilt or innocence remain a foundation of the criminal justice system.
We discussed the case of Okinawan anti-base activist Hiroji Yamashiro, recently released on bail after five months’ pre-trial detention for relatively minor charges. I asked about right-wing criticism about Yamashiro’s activities being too unruly and aggressive. Larry’s response was: “Without civil disobedience in America, where would African-Americans be today?” This may seem very American, but all too often in Japan the expectation — unspoken requirement — that people be polite and obedient can be the opening for all sorts of rights-infringement scenarios, whether involving government use of land or questioning by police.
In any case, at Yamashiro’s trial people will be able to watch, take notes and debate their own evaluations of the evidence against him. For that, thank you again, Larry Repeta.
Colin P.A. Jones is a professor at Doshisha Law School in Kyoto. The views expressed are those of the author alone. Send your comments and story ideas to community@japantimes.co.jp.

Source:  “When open minds fight closed courts in Japan”, Colin Jones in The Japan Times, 16 July 2017