A Lone Protester, Rain or Shine

Photographs by Chisato Hikita

The way Japan’s grassroots activism has shown up for the people of Palestine has been nothing short of extraordinary. In a country known for its low political engagement, I’ve met countless newly woken activists who not only joined the international movement but have also incorporated direct action into their daily lives through street protests, fundraising events and content creation, writing campaigns, etc. Many of them express frustration that demonstrations in Japan aren’t as large as those abroad, or that their efforts seem to yield little visible change, but their persistence and quiet stubbornness are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

One of the figures who has emerged from this movement is Yusuke Furusawa, who has taken to the streets every single day, seven days a week, for more than two years, usually for an hour or so each time. I came across him on social media and reached out while I was in Tokyo.

The day we met was an excruciatingly hot Saturday in July. On my way to meet him near Shinjuku Station, a sprawling terminal of train lines, subways, and shopping complexes, he messaged to say he’d had to relocate because of a nearby Uyoku (right-wing nationalist) presence. As I exited one wing of the station, I passed a large crowd gathered around Uryu Hirano, a young hardline activist who had just lost her bid for a national council seat.

Then I found Furusawa, delivering a monologue about what the Palestinian people have been enduring, about the complicity of the Japanese government, and about the tangled relationship between the U.S. military-industrial complex and the Israeli state. He stood in the middle of two opposing streams of foot traffic, turning every few seconds to address people coming from both directions, waving a large flag and holding a sign that read “Stop GAZA Genocide.”

In October 2023, he had been home-bound for Covid. “I was frustrated because I wanted to go to the protests but couldn’t. Finally, feeling restless, I eventually stumbled out holding a placard, that’s how it all began. When I thought about how I’ve never really taken any actions on this issue while seeing these terrible situations unfolding every day, I just couldn’t sort out my feelings.”

Furusawa makes his living as a prop maker for a broadcasting company while occasionally getting gigs as a theater actor. He wasn’t particularly political until a few years ago when he joined a local grass-roots movement to elect Satoko Kishimoto, an environmental activist and water rights activist who had lived in Belgium, to be Suginami Ward mayor against the pro-business, pro-development incumbent. Especially, he was inspired by the Hitori Gaisen, solo street demonstration, movement which was triggered by one person who decided to campaign by standing quietly on the street with a sign, which spread like a wild fire and resulted in a win by Kishimoto, a move viewed as a victory of the People, who were determined to stop the over development and gentrification.

'I’m not really good at group activities, so rallies and marches aren’t really my thing. I get too tired trying too hard to chant or keep up with everyone else.” Previously, he had been suffering from depression. “This has been helpful like as a daily rehabilitation activity.”

Thus, he stands alone, daily and consistently. As I watched him speak under the glaring sun, I was struck by how most people don’t even look up, or notice him, seemingly so self-absorbed or focused on where they are going. Occasionally, non-Japanese people stop and take pictures of/with him. While I was there, a mother and a kid from Turkey stopped him to thank him through a translation app on her phone. She had tears in her eyes. Furusawa said he does get yelled at a few times a day and was once even choked by a person who identified as an IDF personnel.

This was a few days after July 20th, when Japan had a national council election where more than 8 million people voted for candidates from the Sansei Party, which ran on “Japanese First” platform and a far-right, nationalist political messaging. Furusawa says, a few Japanese people who walk up to him with encouraging signs tend to be ultra nationalists and conservatives. “A lot of times, these guys who say to me ‘you are great for standing against the United States,’ are far right people, which makes me feel defeated.” And there are younger ones who mock him or laugh at him.

Do you have an idea as to how long you’d be doing this? I asked him. Furusawa told me about the time an Aljazeela crew came to his apartment to shoot a segment on him. When he told them, “I will stop if Israel stopped bombing Gaza,” the reporter said, “That is how Japanese people forget about the Middle East.” Furusawa thinks about this episode daily. “I realized I hadn’t understood anything at all, and I felt this helplessness like all my actions over the past four months were being erased in an instant. That’s when I made the decision to do it every day. Those words swirled around me daily.”

After I came back to New York, I procrastinated writing this story. I tried writing it many times in my head, but between being disappointed in the surge of xenophobia and racism in Japan, dealing with medical issues and being scared as an immigrant, my head was not in the right place to give a proper ending to this story. Then, so called “ceasefire” was announced. I thought of him and reached out.

I apologized to him for not writing a story sooner. “I didn’t know how to write the story without glorifying the protest movements.”

He told me attacks by people from Israel were happening increasingly, probably like three times more, especially after the UK recognized the state of Palestine. “They come at me with anger. I’ve also met a few people from Palestine thanking me with tears for what I do. I feel l need to keep a distance from these emotions because what I am really protesting against is the illegal occupation and apartheid of Palestine and how we are not really facing it.”

He hadn’t stopped his protests, still standing out there every day with a flag and a sign, delivering his monologue. He does so because, for one, he did not trust the “ceasefire,” but also because what he stands against is not just the current wave of assaults, bombing, starvation, etc.

“I want to keep going until we seriously tackle the issue, not just go through the superficial motions of Palestine’s state recognition. It isn’t about just stopping the war. It is about getting people to care so that nations collectively help them. I am not talking about months, more like years because it is going to take time.”

Lately, after spending an hour on anti-genocide protest, he stands with another sign for 30 minutes or so before he goes home. The sign says “Delusion of Hate.” That is because he thinks Japan’s xenophobia and hatred come from delusions. “A mix of victim mentality and inferiority complex, plus delusions inflated by conspiracy theories that don’t even exist.”

That is when I realized what he is really fighting is indifference. He went on, “Some might find my style of protests noisy, annoying, or unpleasant. I want them to reject it. I want to get on their nerves, or talk to their hearts. Maybe that is how we can break through the indifference. That is going to take time, like years of time.”