Strategic narratives and US military bases in Japan: How ‘deterrence’ makes the Marine base on Okinawa ‘indispensable’

Introduction

Modern history has not been kind to the islands of Okinawa. Once home to the Ryukyu Kingdom, the last 150 years have witnessed annexation, destruction and militarization. From 1879 to 1945, the islands were under Tokyo rule, characterized by assimilationist and discriminatory policies. In 1945, the main island (literally translated from the Japanese, Okinawa Hontō, the largest and most populous of the Okinawan islands) was decimated in the Battle of Okinawa, the only major engagement to take place on Japanese soil, which killed more Okinawans than Japanese or US troops. Direct US rule of the islands lasted from 1945–1972, during which the main island was militarized as the hub of the US military in the western Pacific. Despite reverting to Japan, as the capital of Okinawa Prefecture in 1972, the US military bases remained, and probably the most famous statistic about the prefecture is that it hosts the majority of the land area of US military bases in Japan although it comprises only a fraction of a percent of the total land area of the state. ¹ With as much as one quarter of the main island occupied by US bases, the presence of the US military has shaped Okinawan life. Co-existence has never been easy: on the one hand, the income from the bases has made the local economy structurally dependent on their continued presence while, on the other hand, a number of high-profile incidents associated with the bases, including military accidents and sexual assaults, have led to a resurgence of anti-base and anti-Tokyo sentiment. The central government in Tokyo has refused to countenance substantial revision of the status quo in the face of increasing local opposition, including mass protests and the election of anti-base politicians at the local, prefectural and national level.

The relocation of the controversial US Marine base at Futenma, to Henoko, in the north of the island, has become the locus of opposition in recent years. The Futenma base is located in Ginowan City, a densely populated urban area, and has been at the centre of many of the highest-profile incidents, including the rape of a schoolgirl by US servicemen in 1995 and the helicopter crash at Okinawa International University in 2005. All sides agree the base must be relocated elsewhere. Activists, local media and local politicians call for the base to be relocated outside Okinawa to reduce the burden on the island. However, the central government, the conservative national media and the US maintain that the current relocation plan, to Henoko, must be implemented. Pro-Henoko actors insist that to do otherwise would undermine ‘deterrence’ (yokushiryoku), stating that the base is ‘indispensable’ (fukaketsu), linking the US Marines’ presence to the ‘China threat’, the nearby Senkaku/Diaoyu Islands dispute and the very existence of the Japan–US alliance. This deterrence narrative has developed, despite the fact that the US Marines do not play an obvious role in deterrence: they are a minor part of the US deployment in Japan, relative to, for example, the US Seventh Fleet based at Yokosuka, or the US Fifth Air Force, based at Yokota, Tokyo and Kadena, also on Okinawa. ² Moreover, the foundation of US extended deterrence is the US–Japan Security Treaty, which not only grants the US access to Japanese territory for its own military use, but also obliges the US to defend Japan in case of attack. Despite this, the current relocation plan is narrated as the ‘only’ (yuiitsu) solution to alleviate the burden on Okinawa, and to block or delay it puts the lives of the residents of Ginowan City at risk. This strategic narrative of deterrence became the common sense understanding of the issue; however, the unintended consequences of the narrative may ironically include a negative impact on the extended deterrence Japan enjoys courtesy of the US.

This article analyses the projection of the deterrence strategic narrative in two conservative Japanese newspapers, Yomiuri Shimbun (hereafter Yomiuri) and Nikkei Shimbun (hereafter Nikkei). The first section locates the concept of strategic narratives in a discursive epistemology and highlights the importance of discursively empowered actors, before placing the newspapers in the broader context of the Japanese media environment, which differs from that of other highly developed countries in the way it empowers traditional actors. The main section of the article then traces the development of the narrative from the late 1990s, illustrating how it emphasizes the ostensible role of the US Marines in a hypothetical conflict with China over the disputed Senkaku/Diaoyu Islands and how it discursively links the Marines’ presence with China’s improved maritime capabilities and its ‘aggressive’ behaviour in the East China Sea (ECS). This section also shows how actors who question the deterrence narrative are rendered as naive, even ‘reckless’ (ranbo), with the warning that questioning the move risks undermining the Japan–US alliance, and thus the security of all of Japan. The article concludes by considering the effects of the narrative, including the unintended consequences that may ironically undermine the extended deterrence that Japan currently enjoys.

The politics of the base relocation issue, and more broadly the politics of the US bases in Okinawa, are too complex, and the history too long, for detailed treatment here. Rather, see Williams (2013, 2015) for studies of the subnational and local politics, Hook et al. (2015) for analysis of the impact of the bases on everyday life in Okinawa, Son and Mason (2013), for analyses of the bases in a regional strategic context, and Inoue (2004) for the post-1995 development of the anti-base movement. Kerr’s (2000) history of the islands is the most comprehensive English-language work, while Angst’s (2001) study of the infamous 1995 rape case highlights the complex interplay between gender and identity in the contemporary Okinawa narratives of victimhood. This article complements and builds upon these Okinawa-specific studies, while also contributing to the literature on strategic narratives through the application of the approach to a highly developed non-Western media environment: one where the new media ecology has not wrought the same political changes. The article also builds upon existing discursive approaches to Japan’s international relations, though approaching from a focus on narrative, rather than identity (Hagström and Gustafsson, 2015; Hagström and Jerdén, 2010; Lindgren and Lindgren, 2017). Finally, the article confines itself to tracing the development of the strategic narrative of deterrence from its origins in the late 1990s to the current impasse: although the counter-narrative(s), and some of the proponents, are referred to where relevant, the focus of the article is the strategic narrative of deterrence. ³

Strategic narratives in the Japanese media environment

The central claim of this article is that the Japanese conservative newspapers project a strategic narrative of deterrence in which the US Marines are rendered as indispensable and the base relocation to Henoko is produced as the only possible solution to alleviating the burden on Okinawa. This section defines the concept of a strategic narrative from a discursive epistemological perspective, and outlines how their use is dependent on the deployment of discursive power. It further identifies the actors involved in the narrative, and justifies the choice of Yomiuri and Nikkei as sources, due to the nature of the Japanese media environment and the way in which it empowers traditional, and conservative, media actors.

A narrative is a sequence of selected events tied together by causality and consequence. A given narrative will have actors, whose actions or conflict take place in a particular setting. Narratives create meaning by structuring otherwise apparently random events, and creating a context for understanding the past, the present and the future. In creating order, a narrative thus ‘sets constraints on the imaginable and actionable, and shapes perceived interests’ (Roselle et al., 2014: 76). Using narratives strategically, then, can create an environment favourable to a particular policy. Roselle et al. (see also Miskimmon et al., 2013) have developed the concept of strategic narratives as a tool in understanding international politics. They break the strategic narrative down to its component parts: the actors, the setting, the conflict and the resolution. The actors presented in a narrative are attributed with ‘characteristics, interests, and behaviours’ (Roselle et al., 2014: 75) that shape and constrain their actions. The setting is the international system – or more precisely, the nature of the international system. In a strategic narrative, the international system can be depicted as an anarchic place where hard power rules, or a world of good and evil, or of cooperation and peace. The characteristics of the setting and of the actors are mutually constitutive: an anarchic world will consist of rival great powers whereas a globalized, interconnected world will include multinational corporations, international institutions, and so on. The action/conflict between these actors in the specific setting determines the resolution or possible resolutions. In this way, the strategic narrative makes certain policy outcomes necessary or inevitable and rules out others as infeasible or even unthinkable. The strategic narrative of deterrence takes place in an anarchic world, where a rising, revisionist China is depicted as waiting for its opportunity to seize Japanese territory. Meanwhile, the US Marines in Okinawa are cast as a crucial deterrent, due to their own military capabilities as well as the symbolic status of their presence. Therefore, the narrative concludes the only way for Japan to stay safe is for the Marines to stay. This narrative is used to silence other narratives, for example one in which the Marines’ presence makes Okinawa a target for Chinese or North Korean missiles, or in which Okinawa’s particular history could see it develop not as a base location but as a bridge between Japan and China.

What kind of effects do narratives have? This article draws on discourse analysis as theory and method (Epstein, 2008; Hansen, 2006; Jørgensen and Phillips, 2002), taking the discursive epistemological stance that produces an analytical focus not on a causal relationship between narratives and policy, but rather on how the narrative is the precondition for and is reproduced through articulations of policy (adapted from Hansen, 2006: 10). ⁴ In other words, narratives have constitutive, not causal effects: as stated above, they create an environment favourable to a specific policy. The analytical focus is thus on the construction of a stable link between the strategic narrative of deterrence and the policy – the relocation to Henoko. Coherence is key: the narrative must produce a representation of the issue that fits logically into the broader security discourse (e.g. in which a rising China requires a strong US–Japan alliance). Methodologically, this requires empirical investigation of articulations of the narrative, considering the aforementioned four components and the themes that emerge from the investigation (e.g. China, the ECS dispute, the alliance). This approach requires not only close reading of the texts, but also background knowledge of the issues and the broader discourse. Not all texts are equal, raising the question of how a given narrative comes to dominate a given discourse. It is not enough for the narrative to maintain internal stability, or that the narrative appears plausible to the target audience, although obviously these are important elements. In order to become dominant, the story-teller must wield discursive power. Discursive power accrues to those ‘subjects authorized to speak and to act (e.g. foreign policy officials, defence intellectuals, development experts)’ (Milliken, 1999: 229, parentheses in original). Discursively powerful subjects can ‘define and enable’ as well as ‘silence and exclude’ by determining what counts as expertise and by ‘endorsing a certain common sense’ (see also Epstein, 2008: 10–11). This article focuses on the projection (rather than production or reception) of the narrative, which necessitates identifying those actors with the discursive resources to narrate a compelling, persuasive story which convinces the audiences of its prescribed resolution. As the next section outlines, both Yomiuri and Nikkei enjoy credibility and influence across a broad swath of Japanese society, and both draw on US and Japanese security officials and academics to support their story.

A key argument of Miskimmon et al. (2013: 10–11) is that the changing communications environment has had a fundamental impact on politics and the efficacy of strategic narratives. The new media ecology is said to have increased transparency and empowered new actors. This article does not seek to dispute these points. Rather, one contribution this article makes is the recognition that these changes are contextual, shaped by social context. In some ways, the Japanese communications environment does mirror developments elsewhere. Newspaper sales are in decline, and young people in particular are finding their news online (Nippon.com, 2014). There is a growing scepticism of conventional media outlets, epitomized by the term masugomi, a play on the word masukomi (mass media) in which the media part (komi) is exchanged for the word for garbage (gomi). Bulletin boards such as 5Channeru (formerly Ni-Channeru) enable like-minded people to critically discuss politics anonymously, often expressing opinions unacceptable in daily conversation. The government’s handling of the Fukushima nuclear disaster and the failure of both the state and the mainstream media to provide reliable information during the crisis have undermined their credibility.

However, even within the group of highly industrialized countries, the Japanese environment stands out. Newspaper sales remain at levels unimaginable in the rest of the world – the conservative Yomiuri Shimbun is comfortably the world’s best-selling newspaper, the Asahi Shimbun and Mainichi Shimbun take second and third place, while the Nikkei Shimbun comes fourth, and is (by far) the world’s best-selling financial newspaper. ⁵ As many as 80 percent of households subscribe to a daily newspaper, and digital-only subscriptions are on the rise (Japan Newspaper Publishers and Editors Association, 2015; Nippon.com, 2014). In the West, and especially in the US, the proliferation of online media outlets has created a media environment notorious for ‘fake news’ stories. Indeed, the President of the US has gone so far as to repeatedly describe CNN, a well-established media outlet, as ‘fake news media’. Another neologism, ‘alternative facts’, risks reducing media credibility to uncharted lows. The main Japanese newspapers (and their associated TV stations) still dominate the media environment (Mizukoshi, 2014) and enjoy a relatively high degree of editorial credibility (McCargo and Lee, 2010). This is despite Japan’s position as 72nd on the World Press Freedom Index (Reporters without Borders, 2017). This low score reflects the inability of new media outlets to gain access to information due to the kisha-club (reporters’ club) system, which continues to reproduce the dependent relationship between the mainstream media and the state, as well as self-censorship and collusion, and a new state secret law aimed at whistleblowers. This contributes to an environment in which powerful traditional actors are well placed to shape the dominant media narratives.

Furthermore, the use of the internet in elections was actually prohibited until 2013 – it is now increasing, but from a standing start. Thus, television and newspapers still dominate politics, unlike for example in the US, where social media has been critical to presidential campaigns since 2008. Moreover, for various cultural and societal reasons, social media usage, at least in public and semi-public fora, is relatively apolitical (Takeshita et al., 2014). Indeed, it is striking that, despite the very high use of blogging, plus increasing penetration of Twitter and Facebook, social media is neither a major source of news nor a forum for debate as elsewhere. To be clear, sharing of political stories, critique and ridicule of politicians and parties does take place, but largely in closed groups with friends: public fora are much less commonly used for political debate (the contrast between American, or British, Facebook and Japanese Facebook is striking). ⁶ Moreover, when political stories are shared on social media, those stories tend to be from the traditional media actors – the big newspapers – rather than newer online outlets (Mizukoshi, 2014). They may trigger a big reaction, which in turn is reported on by the newspapers, and shared again on social media. Finally, although public broadcaster Nihon Hōsō Kyōkai (NHK) remains a credible outlet, it has a complex relationship with the (conservative) government, as illustrated by former NHK Director General Momii Katsuto’s statement that ‘we cannot turn left when the government says right’, as well as the administration of Prime Minister Shinzō Abe’s interference in NHK’s programming output (Morris-Suzuki, 2006, 2013). Again, all of this is to say that, relative to other highly industrialized countries, the Japanese media environment empowers traditional actors such as the national newspapers and government officials. It is precisely these actors who have, with no small degree of success, deployed the deterrence strategic narrative to convince the Japanese public of the necessity of the US Marines in Okinawa.

As we have seen, the Yomiuri is comfortably the world’s best-selling daily, and similarly the Nikkei is by far the world’s best-selling financial newspaper – remarkable, given Japan’s population of 127 million. The Yomiuri is a conservative broadsheet that supports and has close ties with the ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). Tsuneo Watanbe, Chief Executive of the newspaper since 1991, has a long history of close involvement in LDP party politics, especially in the 1970s and 1980s, thanks to a personal relationship with former Prime Minister Nakasone (1982–1987). The Yomiuri under Watanabe takes the same policy stances as the LDP on a wide variety of issues, with very few exceptions (notably Yasukuni Shrine visits). According to Kōichi Nakano, since Abe’s re-election in 2012, Yomiuri has shed any pretence of being a government watchdog, and, seeing the opportunity for the realization of long-term political objectives (such as constitutional revision), has become a government cheer-leader (Nakano, 2016). The taken-for-granted nature of this relationship is illustrated by Abe’s extremely unusual response to an opposition question during Diet deliberations: ‘my thoughts as the president of the Liberal Democratic Party are written in detail in the Yomiuri Shimbun, so please read through that thoroughly’ (Mainichi Shimbun, 2017; Abe had recently given Yomiuri an interview).

While Yomiuri’s readership is relatively evenly spread across society, Nikkei’s readership is predominantly highly educated, upper-middle class and male (Nikkei, 2017). Nikkei is more moderate, especially on issues relating to Japan’s neighbours (and key trading partners). Both follow the government’s lead on the Henoko relocation, and therefore are the obvious sources for the deterrence narrative. As for the rest of the ‘big five’ dailies, Asahi and Mainichi demonstrate more scepticism of the narrative (although this varies over time), while Sankei, further to the right than Yomiuri, follows it closely – and with harsher rhetoric – but has neither the mainstream appeal nor the reputation of Yomiuri or Nikkei. While hundreds of articles of all types were analysed in the research process, the analysis here focuses on editorials and features, as these more clearly demonstrate the newspapers’ editorial line, which the rest of the reportage follows. In the time frame of the study, the late 1990s until today, based on the search terms of Futenma and yokushi (deterrence), only the Nikkei published articles critical of the narrative, in the form of (at least two) interviews with Japan Communist Party Diet members. This is consistent with Nikkei’s more moderate position, and with Yomiuri’s closer government ties. The coding was reflexive, based on the entire sample of articles, and is reflected in the structure of the analysis (discursively disempowering actors, China and the ECS dispute, and the US–Japan alliance). All articles cited are from the Japanese-language edition, accessed via the newspapers’ digital archive, Yomidasu Rekishikan and Nikkei21, and all translations are my own.

The deterrence narrative

The aforementioned rape of a schoolgirl by three US servicemen triggered massive anti-base protests and re-invigorated the overall anti-base movement on Okinawa, putting pressure on both Japan and the US to alleviate the burden on the island. This culminated in the 1996 decision to relocate the Futenma base from Ginowan City to Henoko as part of a new roadmap for the Japan–US alliance. The fact that the base would remain on Okinawa, albeit in a less populated location, inevitably triggered local opposition, and this is the point at which the deterrence narrative emerges. A brief Nikkei article in March 1996 quoted then Deputy Secretary of State Thomas Hubbard, who described the base as both ‘necessary for emergencies and a peacetime deterrent’, going on to say ‘he pointed out that it would be difficult to return’ (Nikkei, 1996). As early as 1997, the relocation was described in a Yomiuri editorial as necessary for preserving the ‘indispensable deterrence of the US military’ (Yomiuri, 1997a). This line of argument was repeated in various other subsequent editorials (e.g. Yomiuri, 1997b, 1998), including one that specified that reducing the number of bases in Okinawa would ‘reduce deterrence’ (yokushiryoku genjiru)’ and such a move ‘must be avoided’ (Yomiuri, 1999). The issue went quiet for some years as various committees were set up to iron out the details of the new base and consultation proceeded with local residents in Nago (the municipality of Henoko), resurfacing in 2005 in advance of the publication of the 2006 US–Japan Roadmap for Realignment Implementation. Meanwhile, in 2004, a helicopter from the Futenma base crashed into the main administration building at nearby Okinawa International University, leading to massive anti-base demonstrations and further fuelling anti-base opposition on the island. The roadmap detailed the relocation plan, including the controversial V-shaped runways which would require massive land reclamation over the coral bay at Henoko. As opposition mounted, the importance of the Marines in Okinawa in terms of the overall US deterrent was restated in multiple editorials and articles in both newspapers, often contextualized using both the North Korean missile threat and China’s military modernization as well as the importance of not weakening the alliance with the US (Nikkei, 2004, 2006, 2007; Yomiuri, 2005).

A Yomiuri editorial published in October 2005, entitled ‘The Futenma relocation is going off course: Don’t expose the Japan–US alliance relationship to a crisis’ is illustrative (Yomiuri, 2005). It criticized the LDP government itself for not ‘moving aggressively to solve the problem’, instead allowing local opposition and environmental issues to delay the move. The editorial went on to cite North Korea and China’s improved maritime capabilities and incursions into Japanese maritime space as a context for the final point: ‘decreasing the US deterrent would have a major impact on Japan’s security situation.’ An editorial from Nikkei two years later echoed this sentiment, citing North Korean missile launches, the Taiwan issue and trust in the alliance as reasons why the relocation must proceed as planned (Nikkei, 2007).

However, it was from 2009 that the US Marines and deterrence became truly inseparable. The period after the publication of the roadmap saw three LDP leaders come and go in as many years. Meanwhile the opposition Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ) came to power following the historic 2009 landslide Lower House victory under Prime Minster Yukio Hatoyama (2009–2010). The Roadmap (and move to Henoko) had been forced through the Diet in the final days of LDP rule, despite Upper House opposition. Thus, Hatoyama pledged to find an alternative kengai (outside the Okinawa prefecture) solution. However, his plans came up against resistance from both his own government and the US. The bureaucracy secretly conspired with US officials to prevent any change in the roadmap, while US officials told their new DPJ counterparts that attempting to change the roadmap would lead to losing ‘all realignment plans’ and that our ‘alliance will be seriously damaged’ (O’Shea, 2014). His inability to reopen the discussions with the US or find an alternative location in Japan, together with a media narrative that vilified him on the premise that his actions were fundamentally undermining the alliance, led to a massive drop in his approval ratings (from 71% to 21% in just over six months), and finally his resignation in June 2010. Shortly before resignation, on announcing that he would renege on his pledge and return to the original Henoko relocation plan, he apologized to the Okinawan people and stated that he had ‘come to realize’ the ‘interoperability’ of the Marines in terms of the overall US forces in Okinawa, and the relocation was ‘the only way to maintain deterrence’ (Norimatsu, 2011). Only a few months later, Hatoyama admitted in an interview that ‘deterrence’ was simply a ‘pretext’ and that, in truth, it was a political decision based on the aforementioned facts that the US refused to re-open negotiations and that, perhaps unsurprisingly, no region in Japan was willing to accept a large-scale Marine base. The startling revelation that deterrence was not part of the calculation made front pages of the local Okinawa newspapers, but was relegated to the middle pages of the national press, receiving little coverage. As we shall see, while Hatoyama’s original deterrence utterance was incorporated into the narrative and its history, the admission that it was a pretext was conveniently forgotten.

There was little movement on the issue until 2013 when Okinawan Governor Hirokazu Nakaima reversed his previous anti-Henoko position and approved the central government’s land reclamation petition, enabling the commencement of runway construction. ⁷ Less than a year later, he lost his re-election campaign against Takeshi Onaga, who opposed the relocation to Henoko and who subsequently withdrew the land reclamation permission, halting construction of the runways and beginning a complex legal battle that continues at the time of writing. It is perhaps ironic that Onaga has the legal rights to do this thanks to the US-authored constitution, which sought to reduce the central power of the Japanese government in the aftermath of the Pacific War by empowering local and regional governments. Since then, the deterrence narrative has been further reinforced. Illustrative of the current discourse is a Special Feature (tokushu) in Yomiuri (2016c). The feature tells the story of the base relocation issue, beginning with the rape in 1995, and eventually reaches Hatoyama’s failed pledge and resignation. Interestingly, the lengthy and detailed article includes Hatoyama’s resignation and his statement that the Marines were crucial to deterrence. Yet there is no mention of Hatoyama’s retraction and admission that deterrence was simply a pretext for an entirely political decision. This is all the more surprising since the feature does linger on the question of Hatoyama’s role in the whole issue, criticizing him for ‘inviting the confusion that has had a lasting effect’ on Okinawa, and blaming him for the subsequent victories of anti-base politicians in Nago and even Onaga’s victory in the gubernatorial election. It goes on to cite former Vice-Minister for Defence Masahiro Akiyama who states that ‘we almost reached an agreement with local people on the relocation issue’ before Hatoyama’s pledge changed everything. It is true that Hatoyama’s pledge deepened Okinawans’ distrust of the central government, but assigning this level of blame to Hatoyama ignores the longstanding and vocal opposition to the relocation on the island (opposition hardened in 2005 after the helicopter crash), as well as discounting the fact that so many years after the first announcement of the move to Henoko there had been almost no progress.

Indeed, critique of anti-relocation politicians is an important element of the deterrence narrative. Today, the narrative is the same but the characters have changed: instead of criticizing Hatoyama, ire is reserved for Onaga, the anti-relocation Governor of Okinawa. In various editorials, Onaga has been criticized for making political gain out of Okinawa’s difficult situation (2016b), for preventing the reduction of the burden on Okinawa (2015b), and for failing to understand deterrence (2015a). Indeed, when the Okinawa prefectural government published a White Paper questioning the logic of the US Marines in deterrence, Yomiuri responded with an editorial criticizing the report, describing Onaga’s actions as reckless (ranbo), the same word used to describe Hatoyama five years before, and citing China’s increased activity in the ECS and its military build-up as increasing the importance of the Marines’ mobility and station in Okinawa (2015a). Where Yomiuri lays the blame clearly at Onaga’s feet, Nikkei takes a more moderate line, criticizing Onaga’s actions as unhelpful, but calling for both sides to sit down and find a way forward, for the sake of both the people of Okinawa and for the maintenance of deterrence (2015a, 2015b). Meanwhile, while Onaga and others were criticized, editorials approvingly quoted Prime Minister Abe:

Prime Minister Abe, on the matter of the Henoko relocation, emphasized that ‘The idea of there being only one alternative in order to return the Futenma Air Base has not changed’. After spending an enormous amount of time and energy, the Japanese and US governments, together with the local stakeholders, reached a final decision which was the Henoko base. In order to maintain the deterrence of the US military presence as well as reducing the burden on the residents, it is important that the government maintain its current position. (Yomiuri, 2016b)

Conclusion: Deterrence and the future of the bases on Okinawa

The conservative Japanese media projected and developed the deterrence narrative. The emergence of the narrative correlates with opposition to the proposed relocation plan in the late 1990s, and both Yomiuri and Nikkei largely echoed the LDP administration’s position on the issue: the US Marines are rendered as indispensable and the base relocation to Henoko is put forward as the only possible solution to alleviating the burden on Okinawa. We have seen how the base relocation was linked to China’s ‘maritime expansion’ in the ECS, and how those who oppose the relocation are rendered as ‘naïve’ and ‘reckless’ in an attempt to discursively disempower them. We further saw how the narrative warns that opposition to the relocation represents a grave threat to the Japan–US alliance, and thus the security not only of Okinawa, but of all Japan. This final section considers the constitutive effects of the narrative and its implications.

The article has focused on projection, rather than production or reception, and on constitution, rather than causality. Opinion polls abound and, perhaps unsurprisingly, public opinion on the base relocation varies depending on which poll you consult: the progressive Asahi Shimbun poll states that 55 percent of respondents are against the relocation, and only 25 percent are in favour (Asahi Shimbun, 2015b), while Yomiuri (2016a) generally finds a majority in favour, with 69 percent for and 19 percent against in 2016, the highest in recent years. While this contrast may tell us more about polling in the mainstream press in Japan than it does about public opinion towards the relocation, the very fact that the narrative is dominant in the conservative press, in a conservative country, and in a media landscape that continues to privilege this press, suggests that it has played a major role in framing the issue for millions of readers/voters. It is possible, but unlikely, that the narrative has little effect: after all, despite openly refuting the narrative, even Hatoyama recognized its power, resorting to it in order to justify his abandonment of the kengai plan in 2010. Since Hatoyama, it has remained the key justification for what remains a controversial plan.

As for Okinawa itself, public opinion hardened in the mid-2000s with subsequent polls indicating a consistent 60 percent plus majority against the plan (Asahi Shimbun, 2005, 2015a; Ryukyu Shimpo, 2014). One might well question the reliability of these polls since they come from outlets that oppose the base relocation plan. Gubernatorial and national elections in Okinawa indicate strong anti-relocation sentiment yet, even here, local elections muddy the waters as both pro- and anti-Henoko candidates have won mayoral elections in Henoko itself. These elections are not single issue, and 30 percent of those who voted in favour of a pro-relocation candidate in the last mayoral election were themselves against the relocation (Japan Times, 2018). Rather, the complexities emerge from a deep entanglement of local politics and the structural base economy (Williams, 2013). Still, even pro-Henoko actors – including both Yomiuri and Nikkei – recognize that the majority of Okinawans oppose it, and that this represents a problem. There are two unintended consequences which may arise from the continued dominance of the deterrence narrative, despite local resistance.

The first relates to the strategic logic of deterrence. Deterrence is psychological, involving not simply capabilities but also credibility and communication. The deterrence narrative is aimed at a domestic audience, but Japan’s neighbours have been observing the base issue with more than a passing interest. The original issue, the relocation of a controversial runway and associated Marine base and training ground, is at face value of little relevance to the US’s overall extended deterrence. However, it has been narrated as a fundamental issue at the core of the alliance. Thus, the narrative may actually be making the ultimate outcome of the base relocation relevant in terms of the external credibility of deterrence. Simply put, the public and vocal insistence by conservative media and politicians that failure to relocate to Henoko would seriously undermine deterrence and even the alliance itself, is creating a situation where failure to relocate to Henoko could actually undermine deterrence and the alliance. Top officials in both states, together with a slew of experts, have stated that deterrence would be undermined, that the alliance would be damaged, and Japan’s security put at risk if the plan does not go ahead. This is difficult to ‘unsay’, and, since local opposition appears implacable, has put the government in a bind.

The second potential unintended consequence develops out of the first, and relates to Okinawan opinion on the question of US bases in Okinawa more broadly. Currently, Okinawan public opinion is not fundamentally anti-base in general, rather it is anti-Henoko relocation in particular. This is seen as simply a question of fairness, relieving the overall burden on the island. Much of the islanders’ ire is in fact aimed not at the US but at Tokyo, based on a deep-rooted local identity which draws on the victimized history of the prefecture, emphasizing the assimilation policies of the post-annexation era, the sacrifice and near total destruction in 1945, the US military occupation until 1972, and the continuing and apparently indefinite militarization. From this perspective, the Henoko issue is emblematic of the treatment of Okinawa going back over a century. By disregarding local opinion and forcing the relocation, justified by a narrative that, on Okinawa at least, lacks persuasive power, the Japanese government risks further inflaming Okinawan opinion. This runs the risk of transforming Okinawan opinion from anti-Henoko relocation sentiment into general anti-base sentiment. Given that Okinawa hosts the majority of the land area of US bases in Japan, were the islanders to unite against all US bases, this would represent a much greater threat to the future of US deployment on Okinawa, and therefore to what both the government and conservative media describe as the basis of the deterrence – and the alliance.