＊＊津軽海峡を挟んだ北海道の函館市が建設停止を求めて訴訟を起こした、マグロ漁で有名な青森県大間市に建設されている J Power の原子力発電所に対し、母、熊谷あさこさんの意志を継ぎ、命を守るための反対運動を続ける「あさこはうす」の小笠原厚子さん。
"Civil disobedience" 市民的不服従 - Wikipedia
大間原発敷地内でひとり土地を守る 小笠原厚子さん単独ロングインタビュー！（市民ジャーナリスト チーム青森）
あさこはうすインタビュー by 小山内頼人 2012.11.15.（57:04）市民ジャーナリストチーム青森
Published on Sep 27, 2012 （32:21）by Masayuki Tojo:
あさこはうす郵便 振込先：ゆうちょ 02760 3 66063 あさこはうすの会
２００９年まで続いた自衛隊のイラク派遣ですが、公の目的である人道復興支援活動は、全体のたった２３パーセント。残り７７パーセントの実質的活動は、戦場への米兵移送でした。私たち市民は、自衛隊活動も日常的に監視し続けなければいけません。http://t.co/Kdhg5hUwOd— 大野純一 (@ohnojunichi) May 2, 2014
2011年9月13日放映の豪ABCニュース、青森県大間の「あさこはうす」"The Fukushima Syndrome" 動画有り
The Fukushima Syndrome 2011.9.13. Mark Willacy (ABC News)
The nuclear meltdowns at Fukushima earlier this year shocked the world, but they shocked the Japanese people even more. For years they've been earnestly reassured by their governments and the energy companies that atomic power was safe, clean and cheap.
Industry drove a well-oiled marketing machine, backed by buckets of government cash. A largely compliant, unquestioning media toed the line. For heavily industrialised, gadget and appliance obsessed, energy-hungry Japan, nuclear was the future.
Opponents were savaged and consigned to the fringe.
Then the earth shook, tsunamis hurtled onto the coast sweeping away communities, seriously damaging a huge, seaside power plant thought indestructible and - suddenly - Japan was in the grip of the worst nuclear disaster since Chernobyl.
With the radiation clouds and plumes came a dramatic shift in opinion as confidence in the nuclear industry crashed.
She'd never want it this way but it was nevertheless vindication for people like Atsuko Ogasawara. Many in her fishing community had decided to take compensation payments and buyouts from a power company busily establishing a nuclear plant on the town's outskirts. The Ogasawaras weren't among them.
First Atsuko's mother refused to take the company's ever escalating offers of cash for her small wooden home. Then when she died, Atsuko continued the resistance. Her's is the last home standing - all but enveloped by the power plant - but she's not giving in. And her stand is inspiring others across Japan mobilising against the construction of nuclear power plants.
North Asia Correspondent Mark Willacy - who's spent much of this year reporting on the quake, tsunami and the consequential Fukushima incident travels to meet Atsuko Ogasawara and on to other anti-nuclear stand-offs across Japan where the resistance has been inspired by her tenacity and emboldened by the deepening national concern about industry and government guarantees about safety.
Along the way Willacy finds himself suiting-up and heading into what many believe to be the world's most dangerous nuclear plant - Hamaoka - which sits on several major active fault lines. The area is due for what some expect to be a magnitude 8 earthquake. "If ever there was going to be another Fukushima disaster" Willacy notes, " it's likely it would happen here".
WILLACY: Japan is energy hungry and addicted to nuclear power, but the tide is turning. The tsunami washed away old certainties and there's a growing wave of anger about the way the nuclear industry operates.
In a country infatuated with fish, this is one of Japan's most famous tuna towns. These colossal bullet-shaped creatures once made the little village of Oma rich - single specimens selling for hundreds of thousands of dollars. But look around in the crowd at today's marine festival and waving back at you is Oma's future and it's not tuna... it's nuclear.
Together with the Japanese Government, the J-Power electric company has dug deep to persuade this windswept community to let it build a nuclear reactor on the outskirts of town. When it's finished, it'll be the 55th reactor in Japan, which has few fossil fuels and depends on nuclear for a quarter of its energy.
Local fishermen got a hundred and thirty thousand dollars each for agreeing to have it here.
ATSUKO OGASAWARA: "A person's life is not about money. I will not sell. I have no intention to sell. It's not about money".
WILLACY: Atsuko Ogasawara is one of the few who hasn't given in. Oma's new reactor is just 250 m from her cottage.
ATSUKO OGASAWARA: [walking down to her cottage] "When the fences and barbed wire went up I felt really overwhelmed. It's like being in a cage. It's oppressive. I felt depressed and felt I wasn't being treated like a human being".
WILLACY: Like her mother before her, she's stubbornly refused to make way for it, so the nuclear company J-Power is simply building the plant around her. This is the only way into her property, a narrow track fenced in by J-Power. Everyone who visits is watched by a company security guard.
This is the single-room wooden shack on the property she inherited. Of the 176 landholders around here, her mother was the only one who refused to take the nuclear company's mountains of money.
ATSUKO OGASAWARA: "My mother said it was two and a half million dollars but my mother didn't care about the money. So she told the company she wouldn't sell whether it was two and a half or twelve million dollars".
WILLACY: She says with its incredible offer spurned, the company turned nasty.
ATSUKO OGASAWARA: "They stalked my mother all the time. She drove a car and they always followed - or they walked behind her wherever she went. They also sent gangsters to try to persuade her to sell. Then there were threatening letters and the town mayor and officials came every day to pressure her. It caused her physical problems and she was mentally stressed as well".
WILLACY: People in Oma used to look to the sea for survival.
ATSUKO OGASAWARA: [looking at pictures with large caught fish] "That was about 200 kilos". This one was about 160... or 130 kilos".
WILLACY: Now the town depends on payouts from the nuclear industry.
ATSUKO OGASAWARA: "If it's a fishing town it should prosper from fishing but they take subsidies, because people are weak. Taking easy money without working for it is like taking drugs".
WILLACY: The operator of the Oma nuclear plant, J-Power, refused to speak to Foreign Correspondent or to respond to the allegations of harassment made by Atsuko Ogasawara. It may be shy with the media, but in this town J-Power is an omnipresent force. Everywhere you look at Oma's annual marine festival, there are people sporting J-Power shirts and fans. There's even a J-Power stall where kids can have fun generating their own electricity.
It's a tuna town with hardly any fish, supplies have been destroyed by foreign trawlers. With many young people leaving for the city, local businessmen like Nariatsu Miyano see nuclear power as the town's saviour.
NARIATSU MIYANO: "It's been said we've received nearly 200 million dollars so far. We can use that to pay for our labour costs for fire fighters and kindergarten teachers".
WILLACY: For Atsuko Ogasawara, it's an intensely personal issue. She's honouring a deathbed promise to her mother. But for the nation as a whole, there's also a powerful emotional connection to the nuclear debate.
More than just about anyone on the planet, the Japanese know the destructive power of the atom. Every year they come here, to the site of the world's first atomic attack at Hiroshima, to remember the victims. Each lantern represents a lost soul. But now, there are new souls to pray for.
The meltdowns at Fukushima earlier this year are the world's worst atomic disaster since Chernobyl a quarter a century ago. They're believed to have led to as much radioactive caesium oozing into the ocean, earth and atmosphere as nearly 200 Hiroshima bombs.
HITOMI KAMANAKA: "There's been a lot of cover-up regarding this contamination. In order to avoid paying compensation they hide information - about the contamination of farm produce and food, for example".
WILLACY: After decades of accepting the message that nuclear is safe, many Japanese are now not so sure and they're questioning the way power companies operate.
HITOMI KAMANAKA: "I think the Japanese people need to reflect on how their areas can be bought and sold out by money. Nuclear power companies scatter their money around skilfully. They do what they want and have great tactics".
WILLACY: Filmmaker Hitomi Kamanaka is heading towards the heart of the latest disaster at Fukushima. Once dismissed as an alarmist fringe dweller, her anti-nuclear films have now become essential viewing. Her most recent work, produced just a year before the meltdowns, investigated how nuclear companies buy off and divide Japanese communities.
HITOMI KAMANAKA: "I feel very angry as if my head is on fire, or as if it will blow off! Unless we provide accurate information to people who have no knowledge of radiation or radiation exposure, and support them to make their own decisions, nothing will change".
WILLACY: Before Fukushima, Hitomi Kamanaka struggled to be heard but tonight, just 60 kilometres from the smouldering plant, she's treated like a hero.
HITOMI KAMANAKA: "The safety myth about nuclear power plants has been sunk deeply into people's hearts - but because of the accident, that lie has been exposed. And many people felt they had to watch my films because they wanted to know more".
WILLACY: For more than 20 years Hitomi Kamanaka has ranged far and wide making anti-nuclear films, investigating what happens to spent nuclear fuel and even travelling to Iraq after the first Gulf War to explore the impact of depleted uranium munitions on children there.
HITOMI KAMANAKA: "Children died in front of me and I couldn't accept the fact that I was supporting a society that let children die from radiation exposure. Where does the depleted uranium ammunition come from? It was the rubbish of the nuclear power plant. I realised I was connected to the killing of children in a faraway place".
WILLACY: It made her question why Japanese were so accepting of nuclear power, especially given the atom bombs at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. She says past governments teamed up with power companies and a compliant media to push the nuclear option through.
HITOMI KAMANAKA: "Those messages were conveyed by popular talents or famous actors who were loved by the people - so the propaganda was very powerful and effective. There were stigmas attached to people who opposed nuclear power and people were scared so they kept quiet, like this... against people who opposed and stereotyped them".
WILLACY: And now she's warning of another potential nuclear disaster that could even affect Tokyo.
HITOMI KAMANAKA: "If you ask me what is the most dangerous nuclear power plant in the world I'd have to say Hamaoka".
WILLACY: "I'm about 200 kilometres south-west of Tokyo, on my way to the Hamaoka nuclear plant. Now this nearly 40 year old plant sits right on top of a major active fault line which is widely believed to be the focal point of a much anticipated magnitude 8 plus earthquake. So there's a worry here that if there's going to be another Fukushima disaster, it's going to happen here at Hamaoka".
KANJI NISHIDA: [greeting Mark at plant] "Welcome to our nuclear power station. I'm glad to meet you.
WILLACY: [shaking hands] "You too. Thank you very much".
Kanji Nishida is the public face of the Hamaoka nuclear plant. After the Fukushima disaster Hamaoka was ordered to be shut down, with fears it was not prepared for the big one, known here as the Great Tokai Quake.
KANJI NISHIDA: "Our nuclear power station has an 87% likelihood of being hit by the Tokai earthquake in the near future - and the Prime Minister has asked us to stop operations until counter measures are completed. But as I told you before, we believe even now the plant is safe".
WILLACY: "Well I'm told that this is standard procedure and standard precaution here at Hamaoka. We're about to enter reactor building number 4 so that is one of the newer reactors here and to do that we have to put on all these safety clothes from under garments on so we're going to go in there now and one of the things I will take in is this radiation reader and at the end of my stint inside I'll be checked to make sure that everything's all right".
Hamaoka's three functioning reactors are now in a state of cold shutdown, costing the company millions in lost revenue every day.
KANJI NISHIDA: "This is a spent fuel pool. As you can see, there are white shining materials - one, two, three, four - and in seven lines. They are new fuel rods".
WILLACY: The operator of Hamaoka, the Chubu Electric Power Company, is planning to build an 18 metre high wall to keep out the worst-case tsunami. The last earthquake here, 160 years ago, caused a large tsunami which hit along the coast right where the plant now stands. With Hamaoka so close to greater Tokyo's 35 million people, that sounds frightening. However the company says it's planned for the worst possible scenario.
KANJI NISHIDA: "Luckily this region is only hit by a huge quake every 100 to 150 years. So by studying those earthquakes we are preparing for bigger tremors and tsunamis than in past earthquakes that hit this area - and our preparations are sufficient".
WILLACY: Just as we were given the all clear after our tour, the company is equally confident the Hamaoka reactors will eventually get the all clear to fire up again.
HITOMI KAMANAKA: "Japan's whole society is being divided into two. One believes the nuclear propaganda - the other doesn't want to be deceived anymore".
WILLACY: And nowhere is that divide more obvious than 1000 kilometres west of Hamaoka where two communities are pitted against each other over the issue. It's known as Japan's Galapagos, a paradise brimming with bird and marine species and for 30 years the people on the island of Iwaishima in Japan's Inland Sea have been fighting to stop the construction of a nuclear power plant just across the water on the mainland.
MASAAKI OKAMOTO: "They will reclaim the sea. Then they're going to build on top of it. That is a strange technique. I can foresee the reclaimed land sinking when an earthquake hits".
WILLACY: While other communities on the nearby peninsula have accepted the Chugoku Power Company's money in return for allowing the plant to go ahead, Iwaishima islanders like fisherman Masaaki Okamoto have stood firm. They worry the proposed plant will poison the Inland Sea, along with it a way of life that's changed little in centuries.
MASAAKI OKAMOTO: "The sea water temperature will also rise because the plant will discharge warm water. They say it will be two to three degrees higher. But if the sea temperature is raised just one degree the shrimp will be annihilated".
SADAO YAMOTO: [protest leader] "The company had no choice but to admit that the sea water will be affected by the nuclear power plant. So they tried to pay 22 million dollars to our island as compensation for fishing. But if we accepted the money we would forfeit our right to protest. So we refused the money".
WILLACY: The Chugoku Power Company declined our requests for an interview, refusing to answer questions about safety fears or answer what amount to allegations of bribery. We joined the islanders as they set off to the mainland to protest against the nuclear plant. While construction at the site has been suspended, they want the government to scrap the project altogether.
SADAO YAMOTO: [at protest] "We have to protect our lives".
WILLACY: For 30 years they've defied the national government, the nuclear power company and its fistful of dollars and what happened in the tsunami has only made them stronger than ever.
MOYOKO IWAMOTO: "What the Chugoku Electric Power Company says is very irresponsible. They are shameless. I do not like them at all".
WILLACY: The final insult, the proposed site for the reactor is the very spot where the sun rises each morning over their island.
MASAAKI OKAMOTO: "I want to say the Chugoku Electric Power Company "please give up". I will say to its president - "please give up now, and let me enjoy my fishing"."
WILLACY: Fisherman Okamoto, like most of the 500 residents here, has been fighting against the Chugoku Power Company for more than half his life. Together with his fellow men of the sea, he won't sell out his lifestyle for any amount of money.
MASAAKI OKAMOTO: [on his boat] "Assembly men in the past were bought off. And many prominent persons were bought off. We have not been bought off - otherwise we wouldn't have been able to continue our protest for 30 years".
WILLACY: Back up north in Oma, anti-nuclear holdout Atsuko Ogasawara welcomes another visitor. Kazuo Miura has come all the way from Fukushima, 500 kilometres to the south, and as well as moral support, he's offering something else.
KAZUO MIURA: "I brought peaches from Fukushima. There might be some radiation in them".
ATSUKO OGASAWARA: "No, it's all right, as I'm old. Thank you very much".
WILLACY: This little log bungalow has become a focal point for Japan's anti-nuclear movement. As well as visitors, there's a constant stream of calls and letters of support.
KAZUO MIURA: "Human beings are all about money. But she has a heart that doesn't flinch in front of money or threats".
WILLACY: And she shows me what she says is the nuclear company's latest act of harassment.
ATSUKO OGASAWARA: "This stream comes down from the company's land over there. It's been stopped so it won't flow to this area".
WILLACY: Living in the shadow of a nuclear power plant doesn't stop her from enjoying her garden, but lack of water might. Nonetheless this determined woman says there's nothing the nuclear power company can do to force her from her cottage.
ATSUKO OGASAWARA: "There's the memory that my mother and I built it, so this house is filled with our feelings (becomes emotional). I want to protect this house. My mother risked her life to protect this land, while being ostracised, and I don't know how hard that was".
WILLACY: It's the night of the dead, the Buddhist festival of Bon and like her neighbours, Atsuko Ogasawara is paying tribute to her ancestors. It's a time of prayer and pyrotechnics and a chance to honour her beloved mother.
ATSUKO OGASAWARA: "I worked hard together with my mother and I'll respect her dying wishes and work hard as long as I live. I'll continue fighting".
WILLACY: After Hiroshima, Nagasaki and now Fukushima, she's far from alone in that fight. However in a country that's the world's third biggest consumer of electricity, others feel there's no choice but to accept nuclear power. What they want is an industry that spends less on buying off its opponents and more on rigorous and transparent safety controls.