In this essay, I use the term denunciation to refer to the organized practice of holding perpetrators of discrimination publicly accountable, as developed by the Buraku Liberation Movement.

I have exposed a considerable number of denouncements regarding Buraku discrimination incidents. However, I have rarely spoken about myself. It is fair to say that I have consciously avoided recounting my own experiences, what I thought at the time, and the resolve I had when confronting the condemnation of discrimination.

The reason is not simple. Speaking about discrimination incidents is an activity that conveys the experiences of the discriminated to society. However, this also carries the risk of wasting individual experiences. For a long time, I have felt uneasy about what might be called "exploitation of narrative." For example, I have some ability as an athletic coach. I taught my two children to ride bicycles within two hours. I taught my eldest daughter, who was not good at running, proper running form at her request, and she became the fastest runner in her class. This is a parent-child activity completely unrelated to the Buraku issue, but her teachers promoting Dowa education presented it at the "Dowa Education Research Conference" as if it were their own achievement. Such experiences fostered a sense of caution regarding the exploitation of the narrator's personal activities and the wasteful use of the Buraku issue. Therefore, I have politely declined requests for interviews, especially from peisons of non-Buraku origin.

However, as I have grown older, and at the request of younger members of the Buraku, I have felt a growing desire to share my experiences of denunciation of discrimination. The presentation I gave, as indicated in the title of this document, served as a catalyst, and I now intend to record it in writing.

The discrimination incidents I have exposed, focusing solely on those targeting businesses, include discriminatory remarks by hotel employees, discrimination by security company employees, discriminatory remarks and attitudes by matchmakers, discriminatory letters issued by advertising companies, discriminatory remarks by university lecturers, and responses to discriminatory treatment by department store-related companies—a wide range of incidents, both large and small. I believe the 1995 T Printing discrimination case very clearly illustrates my involvement with the Buraku issue.

What actions do Buraku people take when they encounter discrimination? According to a 1998 survey conducted by the Buraku Liberation Research Institute, only about 20% of respondents said they had protested to the perpetrator, and only 4.5% said they had consulted with an a Buraku liberation organization. On the other hand, nearly half (46.6%) said they had silently endured the discrimination. Furthermore, not all consultations with social activist groups escalated into denunciation campaigns. In reality, probably less than half of those consultations actually led to protests. In other words, protesting discrimination is an extremely exceptional activity, even from a statistical standpoint.

The reason is not a lack of courage. Those who perpetrate discrimination and those who are discriminated against often have vested interests through work or daily life—that is, they are people bound by ongoing social and economic relationships. They might be bosses at work, business partners, neighbors, school staff, or customers.

The Burakumin are not outside of society. Rather, they are integrated into seken (society), yet placed in the contradictory position of not being fully accepted. They are both included and excluded. They live in a suspended state. This tendency is particularly pronounced in Buraku, which are composed of small numbers of households. If they protest against discrimination, they are attacked further, and their very livelihood is threatened. So they remain silent. They are protected by no one, and their silence cannot be called cowardice.

Why was I able to denounce discriminators? At the time, I was a business owner, and T Printing, the company I exposed, was one of my clients. But it was not because I was brave. I had consciously designed my business policies with the conditions for confronting discrimination in mind. I ended up running a company due to circumstances, but since my student days, I had believed in maintaining an anti-discrimination stance throughout my life. The methods I devised to achieve this were: not relying on more than 10% of operating profits from a single client; not competing with local competitors; adhering to the principle of one client per industry; and adjusting the ratio of direct to indirect transactions.

At first glance, these seem like perfectly normal business decisions. However, the Buraku issue lay behind my policy. When a discrimination incident occurred, even if I lost a business relationship as a result of condemning the other company, I had created a system that would prevent the company from falling into a financial crisis. That was the purpose of my management. Competition with local competitors meant that if I won, the Buraku issue would come to the forefront and bad rumors would spread. A successful restaurant owner I knew was subjected to malicious rumors from a competitor who fell behind, claiming he "made money by using unjustly cheap meat from Dowa." It was impossible to ignore such situations. I chose to avoid this and not expend unproductive effort.

In fact, my clients included companies listed on the First Section of the Tokyo Stock Exchange, as well as local advertising agencies, major printing companies, and recruiting agencies affiliated with the Nihon Keizai Shimbun. I intentionally maintained business relationships that did not place me in direct competition with local firms. I also designed my business so that losing any single client would never threaten the company's stability. This allowed me to pursue profit while preserving the freedom to act according to my principles whenever I encountered discrimination.

February 27, 1995, was the day this way of thinking was practiced. That day, I was attending an seminar on language and expression titled "Creativity and Troubles - From the Front Lines of Production," hosted by the T Printing Idea Center at the C Electric Power Company Headquarters Hall. There were almost 300 attendees, consisting of T Printing cooperative firm and C Electric Power Company employees. I was attending as a member of a cooperative firm. The lecturer was Mr. Y, the head of the T Printing Idea Center. Towards the end of the lecture, under the section " Let's Learn About Expressions and Terms to Avoid " on the distributed handout, he gave the following explanation:

Be careful not to depict four fingers in manga or illustrations. You may receive protests from some related organizations. While four fingers are common in overseas works, it is better to revise them in Japan.

"You may receive protests from certain organizations." I immediately felt uneasy at the moment I heard that explanation. His statement was presented as a fact. However, I was unaware of any such cases. I had never heard of the Buraku Liberation League condemning a company solely because of a four-fingered illustration. Moreover, the rumor that the number "four" itself could be a target of condemnation has been repeatedly circulated as malicious misinformation against the Buraku Liberation Movement. I was absolutely dumbfounded by the rumor that Yottsu no Onegai (Four Wishes)—a hit song by a famous singer—was also going to be banned from broadcast. If Y was presenting this as fact in a corporate training session, it could not simply be dismissed as a misunderstanding. After the lecture, I approached him.

I decided first to confirm the facts with Y. we had the following conversation, which can also be confirmed from the remaining documents:

I : Have you ever received protests regarding the finger issue?"
Y: I haven't.
I : Then has your company?
Y: I will investigate and get back to you.
I : Who would protest a four-fingered illustration?
Y: Related organizations.
I : What kind of organizations are these related organizations?
Y: Dowa organizations.

I asked further questions. "There are several organizations related to the Buraku issue. Which organization are you referring to? I don't think such a thing exists." Y repeated, "I will investigate and get back to you."

I gave him my business card. Y also handed over his. At that point, I did not press the issue any further. However, the problem was not over. Rather, it was just beginning.

This "four-finger controversy " was the result of confusing Buraku discrimination with the false rumors that justified that discrimination. Historically, since the Edo period, the term yotsu has been used as a derogatory term for the senmin. There was also the insidious act of discrimination where people would point to someone of Buraku origin by showing four fingers and saying, "That person is this." However, completely separate from that, rumors began to circulate nationwide, especially after the 1970s, that the number "four" itself, or the illustration of four fingers, was a target of condemnation by the Buraku Liberation League. These were stories like, "The song 'Four Wishes' was banned," or "The sign 'Yotsutsji (four-way intersection) could no longer be used." However, these were not true. Malicious rumors were spreading, portraying the Buraku Liberation Movement as an "unreasonable organization."

Actually, I had a similar experience just before the T Printing incident. A lecturer from the Manga Department at S University stated on an FM radio program that he had received a storm of protests from Buraku liberation organizations for drawing an illustration with four fingers. I asked for factual details, but the lecturer avoided giving specific explanations. Ultimately, I decided to raise the issue with the Buraku Liberation League Central Headquarters.

Meanwhile, reality was ironic. Around the same time as the T Printing incident, a four-fingered mascot was being displayed without attracting any criticism at the election office of a candidate affiliated with the Buraku Liberation League in Onomichi.

The following day, February 28th, the chief director of the T Printing Idea Center visited me early in the morning. He simply said, "What happened? Are you unhappy about something? Just handle it calmly," and left. I learned that he had been ordered to exert pressure without being informed of the background of that incident. I also received a phone call. The caller was demanded, "Why would a subcontracting business of our company do something like that?"
I felt a strong sense of unease about their response. The problem is not my personal feelings. It lies in the fact that a major corporation openly propagated false information regarding Buraku discrimination and exerted pressure on anyone who questioned it. I immediately went to T Printing Chugoku branch, which was then located in Gion, Hiroshima City. There, I stated clearly, "If you want to stop doing business with my company, please feel free to do so. However, if you do, I will also pursue the matter thoroughly." This was not an emotional outburst. That was precisely why I had built my business that way. I have maintained a management style independent of business partners precisely so that I could speak freely in situations like this. Later, this affair escalated into a protest campaign by the Buraku Liberation League Hiroshima Prefectural Federation.

Initially, Y tried to resolve the situation by claiming he "did not know about the Buraku issue." However, the company's management viewed this incident not as an individual slip of the tongue, but as a corporate responsibility.

I later heard that the company's top management was furious with the staff, telling them, "you should be denounced more strongly by the BLL." On the surface, these words sound strange. However, their meaning is understandable. A company cannot prevent recurrence unless it thoroughly identifies its own problems. The company's leadership understood that half-hearted self-defense weakens the organization. Therefore, the denunciation meeting itself did not take long. At the second confirmation meeting in July, the problems were clarified, and it was confirmed that completely revising the internal training materials would be a practical step.

Meanwhile, this incident was not limited to T Printing. C Electric Power, a co-sponsor, was also held accountable. Approximately 300 people were at the lecture venue. Not a single person questioned, "Is that true?" Behind this was the reality that, even after the incident involving the Incident of Purchasing the Directory of Buraku Locations, understanding of the Buraku issue had not sufficiently permeated the company.

In C Electric Power, the question of responsibility was pursued. I told them, "Please don't take disciplinary action," but a demotion was carried out. Personnel from the C Electric Power Economics Research Center and the public relations director were transferred or seconded to affiliated companies. Meanwhile, no demotions occurred at T Printing. This left C Electric Power with significant resentment. I heard that they pressed T Printing, saying, "We bled. Are you unscathed?" As a result, C Electric Power terminated its business relationship with T Printing. I was appalled by this extremely old-fashioned way of taking responsibility, but what was important to me was not the punishment. It was what happened afterward.

My company had an office in Tokyo, and one day, while in Tokyo on business, I wondered how Y was doing and decided to visit him. I visited his office. I found that he was isolated within the company. "The company was embarrassed because of Y," was the prevailing sentiment, and he was being forced to bear the responsibility alone. I could not just stand by and do nothing.

I decided I would at least complete the training materials for him. I traveled to Tokyo almost every month. I think this continued for nearly two years. A simple list of discriminatory terms or a collection of alternative phrases would not be meaningful. The teaching materials had to foster an understanding of why a particular expression is considered discriminatory—requiring an appreciation of the context—as well as the historical structures that give rise to discrimination and the reasons why human rights education is necessary. I was both the one denouncing the discrimination and a collaborator. and a collaborator.

The booklet was finally completed in 1999. Immediately afterward, Y resigned from his company and became involved in the activities of the Kanagawa Prefectural Human Rights Center. Life is strange. The person who made unfounded statements during a corporate training session that day later became involved in human rights activities. Of course, I am not saying that it was all due to my influence. His daughter, who aspired to a legal career, also seems to have had a significant impact by pointing out his mistakes. However, it was certain that the denunciation became a turning point in one person's life.

Whenever I look back on this experience, I ask myself, "Did you forgive Y?" The answer has been consistent. I have always believed that denunciation is not about excluding someone from society. It is about holding them accountable and ensuring they fulfill that responsibility to the end. Therefore, I believe it is also the responsibility of the person making the denunciation to support the other party in fulfilling their responsibilities. In this case, Y, in particular, acknowledged his wrongdoing and agreed to act accordingly. From that moment on, it became my duty to share the responsibility with him and to work together with him. However, I have not forgiven him. This is the answer to my own question.

Regarding forgiveness, Jacques Derrida said, "Forgiveness is only worthy of its name when it is directed towards what is inherently unforgivable." I do not believe I have reached that state. I will never forget the impact Y's remarks had on society. However, precisely because of this, I have continued to demand that he confront discrimination to the very end, without turning away from that responsibility.

For me, denunciation is an expression of anger, but it is not merely an expression of indignation. It is a social practice to eliminate discrimination, an endeavor to change people, change organizations, and change society. That is the meaning of the "denunciation of discrimination" that has been carried on for nearly sixty years.